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THE  ANATOMY 

OF  WYT. 

Very  pleafant  for  all  Gentle- 
men  to  reade,  and'mojl  necej- 

fary  to  remember: 

ypkerin  are  contained  the  delights 

that  Wyt  follow  cth  in  his  youth  by  the 

pleafauntncflc  of  Loue,  and  the 

happynefle  he  rcapcth  in 


the  perfe^nefle  of 
Wifedome. 

f  By  lohn  Lylly  Maftcr  of 
Artc.    Oxon, 


^Imprinted  at  London  for 

Gabriell 


ling  in  Paulcs  Church- 
yarde, 


B 


FACSIMILE    OF    TITLE-PAGE    OF    LYLY  S    FIRST    NOVEL 

From  the  copy  of  the  Editio  Princ^pa  (Dec.  1578)  in  the  British  Museum 


THE  COMPLETE  WORKS 

||f;  •        OF     '          '      •  '  'l]  : 

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  cloore. —  The  Bee. 

Ceux  qui  ont  etc  les  predecesseurs  des  grands  esprits,  et  qui 
ont  contribue  en  quelque  fa9on  a  leur  education,  leur  doivent  d'etre 
sauves  de  1'oubli.  Dante  fait  vivre  Brunette  Latini,  Milton  du 
Bartas;  Shakespeare  fait  vivre  Lyly. — MEZIERES. 


VOL.   II 

EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 
THE   PLAYS 


OXFORD 

AT  THE   CLARENDON    PRESS 
MDCCCCII 


O  2. 


HENRY  FROWDE,   M.A. 

PUBLISHER  TO  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  OXFORD 

LONDON,   EDINBURGH 

NEW   YORK 


1030270 


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        .        .  542 

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) 302 

„             (TEXT) 313 

SAPHO  AND  PHAO  (INTRODUCTION)         .        .        .        .362 

(TEXT) 369 

GALLATHEA  (INTRODUCTION) 418 

(TEXT) 429 

NOTE  ON  ITALIAN  INFLUENCE 473 

NOTES: 

EUPHUES  AND  HIS  ENGLAND 486 

CAMPASPE 540 

SAPHO  AND  PHAO 554 

GALLATHEA 564 


iv  CONTENTS 

VOLUME    III 

AUTOGRAPH  LETTER  OF  LYLY  (Feb.  4,  1602-3)    .        .       Frontispiece 

THE  PLAYS  (CONTINUED)  :  PAGE 

INTRODUCTORY  MATTER  OF  BLOUNT'S  EDITION    .          ,  i 

ENDIMION  (INTRODUCTION) 6 

(TEXT) 17 

ESSAY  ON  THE  ALLEGORY  IN  .          .81 

MIDAS  (INTRODUCTION) 106 

(TEXT) 113 

MOTHER  BOMBIE  (INTRODUCTION) 164 

(TEXT) I7I 

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 

„           „             „           (TEXT)     ....  393 

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

(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 


^Euphuesandhis  England. 


CONTAINING 

his  voyage  and  aduentures ,  myxed  with 

fundry  pretie  difcourfcs  of  honed 

Louc  j  thcdifcription  of  the 

conn  trey,  the  Court, and 

the  manner*  of  that: 

We. 


VSLIGHTFVL  TO 

be  readpnd  nothing  hurtfull  to  be  regar 
ded  :  whcr-in  there  is  frnall  offence 
by  light ne (Tc  giuen  to  the  wife, 
and  lc(Tc  occafion  of  loofc- 
ncs  proffered  Co  the 
wanton. 

^[By  IohnLyIy,Maiftcr 
of  Artc, 

Commend  it,or  amend  it. 

^Imprinted  at  London  for 

Gabriell  Cawood^dwclling  in 
Panics  Church-yard. 


SYMBOLS,   ETC.,   USED  IN  THE  TEXTUAL  FOOTNOTES 

EDITIONS  are  referred  to  by  the  letter  attached  to  them  in  the  List  of  Editions, 
pp.  100-3  >  where  no  such  letter  is  attached,  by  the  date,  actual  or  supposed,  of 
the  edition.  The  reading  of  the  text  is  always  that  of  A  for  Part  I,  or  of  M  for 
Part  II,  unless  otherwise  specified.  *  Where  the  reading  of  either  of  these  appears 
in  the  footnotes,  the  reading  adopted  is  that  of  the  next  edition  (T  in  Part  I,  A  in 
Part  II)  or  of  the  earliest  in  which  the  error  of  A  or  M  is  corrected. 

Every  footnote  implies  a  collation  of  all  the  old  editions  down  to  1636,  except 
those  marked  with  a  dagger  in  the  List,  i.e.  except  those  of  1585,  1587,  1605, 
1606  of  Part  I,  and  of  1581-1592,  1605,  1613  of  Part  II,  though  for  1582  (G)  of 
Part  II  I  have  reproduced  the  variations  or  omissions  reported  in  Arber's  text. 
For  example,  *  B '  or  '  C-E '  attached  to  any  variant  or  omission  reported  implies 
that  all  collated  editions  before  and  after  B,  or  before  C  and  after  E,  follow  the 
reading  of  the  text. 

'  Rest '  after  a  symbol  ('  G  rest,'  '  F  rest ')  implies  the  agreement  of  all  subsequent 
editions  with  that  denoted  by  the  symbol. 

'  Before  '  and  '  after  '  always  relate  to  some  word  or  words  added,  not  to  words 
merely  substituted,  nor  to  a  mere  transposition. 

'Only'  after  a  symbol  means  that  the  word  (or  words)  cited  in  the  note  is 
unrepresented  by  any  word  at  all,  like  or  unlike,  in  the  other  collated  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,  his1]. 

Unless  the  footnote  be  solely  orthographical,  the  spelling  given  therein  is  not 
necessarily  that  of  any  other  edition  than  the  first  named  in  such  footnote. 


<9*?To  the  Right  Honourable  my 

very  good   Lorde  and   Maister,    Edward   de   Vere, 
Earle  of  Oxenforde,  Vicount  Bulbeck,  Lorde  of 
Escales  and  Badlesmere,  and  Lorde  great 
Chamberlaine  of  England,  lohn  Lyly 
wisheth  long  lyfe,  with  en- 
crease  of  Honour. 


THE  first  picture  that  Phydias  the  first  Paynter  shadowed,  was 
the  protraiture  of  his  owne  person,  saying  thus  :   if  it   be 
10  well,  I  will  paint  many  besides  Phydias,  if  ill,  it  shall  offend  none 
but  Phydias. 

In  the  like  manner  fareth  it  with  me  (Right  Honourable)  who 

neuer   before   handling  the  pensill,   did  for  my  fyrst  counterfaite, 

coulour  mine  owne  Euphues,  being  of  this  minde,  that  if  it  wer 

15  lyked,  I  would  draw  more  besides  Euphues,  if  loathed,  grieue  none 

but  Euphues. 

Since  that,   some  there  haue  bene,  that  either  dissembling  the 

faultes  they  saw,  for  feare  to  discourage  me,  or  not  examining  them, 

for  the  lone  they  bore  me,  that  praised  mine  olde  worke,  and  vrged 

20  me  to  make  a  new,  whose  words  I  thus  answered.     If  I  should  coyne 

a  worse,  it  would  be  thought  that  the  former  was  framed  by  chaunce, 

as  Protogenes  did  the  foame  of  his  dogge,  if  a  better,  for  flatterie, 

as  Narcissus  did,  who  only  was  in  loue  with  his  own  face,  if  none  at 

all,  as  froward  as  the  Musition,  who  being  entreated,  will  scarse 

25  sing  sol  fa,  but  not  desired,  straine  aboue  Ela. 

But  their  importunitie  admitted  no  excuse,  in-so-much  that  I  was 
enforced  to  preferre  their  friendship  before  mine  owne  fame,  being 
more  carefull  to  satisfie  their  requestes,  then  fearefull  of  others 

5  Lyly  MAB  \  Lilly  E  1617,  1630-31  :  Lily  FH ':  Lyllie  1623:  Lylie  1636 
9  portraiture  E  rest  10  it]  I  E  14  were  B  rest  19  the  om.  E  rest 

bore  to  me  F;  bare  to  me  H  rest  my  F  rest  22  foame]  forme  E  rest 

of  before  a  E  23  Narsissus  AB  24  forward  .£  Musitions 

H  rest  27  owne]  owe  A 

B  2 


4  THE   EPISTLE   DEDICATORY 

reportes :  so  that  at  the  last  I  was  cotent  to  set  an  other  face  to 
Euphues,  but  yet  iust  behind  the  other,  like  the  Image  of  lanus, 
not  rdning  together,  lik  the  Hopplitides  of  Parrhasius  least  they 
should  seeme  so  vnlike  Brothers,  that  they  might  be  both  thought 
bastardes,  the  picture  wherof  I  yeeld  as  common  all  to  view,  but  5 
the  patronage  onely  to  your  Lordshippe,  as  able  to  defend,  knowing 
that  the  face  of  Alexander  stamped  in  copper  doth  make  it  currant, 
that  the  name  of  Caesar,  wrought  in  Canuas,  is  esteemed  as  Cam- 
bricke,  that  the  very  feather  of  an  Eagle,  is  of  force  to  consume  the 
Beetle.  10 

I  haue  brought  into  the  worlde  two  children,  of  the  first  I  was 
deliuered,  before  my  friendes  thought  mee  conceiued,  of  the  second 
I  went  a  whole  yeare  big,  and  yet  when  euerye  one  thought  me 
ready  to  lye  downe,  I  did  then  quicken :  But  good  huswiues  shall 
make  my  excuse,  who  know  that  Hens  do  not  lay  egges  when  they  15 
clucke,  but  when  they  cackle,  nor  men  set  forth  bookes  when  they 
promise,  but  when  they  performe.  And  in  this  I  resemble  the 
Lappwing,  who  fearing  hir  young  ones  to  be  destroyed  by  passengers, 
fiyeth  with  a  false  cry  farre  from  their  nestes,  making  those  that 
looke  for  them  seeke  where  they  are  not :  So  I  suspecting  that  20 
Euphues  would  be  carped  of  some  curious  Reader,  thought  by  some 
false  shewe  to  bringe  them  in  hope  of  that  which  then  I  meant  not, 
leading  them  with  a  longing  of  a  second  part,  that  they  might 
speake  well  of  the  first,  being  neuer  farther  from  my  studie,  then 
when  they  thought  mee  houering  ouer  it.  25 

My  first  burthe  comming  before  his  time,  must  needes  be  a 
blind  whelp,  the  secod  brought  forth  after  his  time  must  needes 
be  a  monster.  The  one  I  sent  to  a  noble  man  to  nurse,  who  with 
great  loue  brought  him  vp,  for  a  yeare :  so  that  where-soeuer  he 
wander,  he  hath  his  Nurses  name  in  his  forhead,  wher  sucking  his  3° 
first  milke,  he  can-not  forget  his  first  Master. 

The  other  (right  Honourable)  being  but  yet  in  his  swathe  cloutes, 
I  commit  most  humbly  to  your  Lordships  protection,  that  in  his 
infancie  he  may  be  kepte  by  your  good  care  from  fals,  and  in 
his  youth  by  your  great  countenaunce  shielded  from  blowes,  and  in  his  35 
age  by  your  gracious  continuaunce,  defended  from  cotempt.  He  is 
my  youngest  and  my  last,  and  the  paine  that  I  sustained  for  him 

3  like  B  rest  5  for  before  all  ABE  rest  19  their]  the  GE  rest 

21  curteous  1617  rest         22  I  then  E  rest        32  but  om.  E  rest        36  counten 
ance  E  rest 


THE   EPISTLE   DEDICATORY  5 

in  trauell,  hath  made  me  past  teeming,  yet  doe  I  thinke  my  selfe 
very  fertile,  in  that  I  was  not  altogether  barren.  Glad  I  was  to 
sende  them  both  abroad,  least  making  a  wanton  of  my  first,  with 
a  blinde  conceipt,  I  should  resemble  the  Ape,  and  kill  it  by  cullyng 
5  it,  and  not  able  to  rule  the  second,  I  should  with  the  Viper,  loose 
my  bloud  with  mine  own  brood.  Twinnes  they  are  not,  but  yet 
Brothers,  the  one  nothing  resemblyng  the  other,  and  yet  (as  all 
children  are  now  a  dayes)  both  like  the  father.  Wherin  I  am  not 
vnlike  vnto  the  vnskilfull  Painter,  who  hauing  drawen  the  Twinnes 

10  of  Hippocrates,  (who  wer  as  lyke  as  one  pease  is  to  an  other)  &  being 
told  of  his  friends  that  they  wer  no  more  lyke  then  Saturne  and 
Appollo,  he  had  no  other  shift  to  manifest  what  his  worke  was, 
then  ouer  their  heads  to  write  :  The  Twinnes  of  Hippocrates.  So 
may  it  be,  that  had  I  not  named  Euphues,  fewe  woulde  haue 

15  thought  it  had  bene  Euphues,  not  that  in  goodnes  the  one  so  farre 
excelleth  the  other,  but  that  both  beeing  so  bad,  it  is  hard  to  iudge 
which  is  the  worst. 

This  vnskilfulnesse  is  no  wayes  to  be  couered,  but  as  Accius  did 
his  shortnesse,  who  being  a  lyttle  Poet,  framed  for  himselfe  a  great 

20  picture,  &  I  being  a  naughtie  Painter,  haue  gotten  a  most  noble 
Patron  :  being  of  Vlysses  minde,  who  thought  himselfe  safe  vnder 
the  Shield  of  Aiax. 

I  haue  now  finished  both  my  labours,   the   one   being  hatched 
in  the  hard  winter  with  the  Alcyon,  the  other  not  daring  to  bud  till 

25  the  colde  were  past,  like  the  Mulbery,  in  either  of  the  which  or  in 
both,  if  I  seeme  to  gleane  after  an  others  Cart,  for  a  few  eares  of 
corne,  or  of  the  Taylors  shreds  to  make  me  a  lyuery,  I  will  not  deny, 
but  that  I  am  one  of  those  Poets,  which  the  painters  faine  to  come 
vnto  Homers  bason,  there  to  lap  vp,  that  he  doth  cast  vp. 

30  In  that  I  haue  written,  I  desire  no  praise  of  others  but  patience, 
altogether  vnwillyng,  bicause  euery  way  vn worthy,  to  be  accompted 
a  workeman. 

It  sufficed!  me  to  be  a  water  bough,  no  bud,  so  I  may  be  of  the 
same  roote,  to  be  the  yron,  not  steele,  so  I  be  in  the  same  blade, 

35  to  be  vineger,  not  wine,  so  I  be  in  the  same  caske,  to  grinde  colours 
for  Appelles,  though  I  cannot  garnish,  so  I  be  of  the  same  shop. 
What  I  haue  done,  was  onely  to  keepe  my  selfe  from  sleepe,  as 

4  cullyng  MAB  :  culling  Erest        20  &]  so  Frest        21  thought]  though  £ 
23  laboure  1617,  1630-31  28    one  om.  1617  rest          33  bough]  bouth  1617, 

1630-31        34  no  E  rest       may  before  be2  F l rest       35  no  F rest      I]  it  E  rest 


6  THE   EPISTLE   DEDICATORY 

the  Crane  doth  the  stone  in   hir  foote,  &  I  would  also  with  the 
same  Crane,  I  had  bene  silent  holding  a  stone  in  my  mouth. 

But  it  falleth  out  with  me,  as  with  the  young  wrastler,  that  came 
to  the  games  of  Olympia,  who  hauing  taken  a  foyle,  thought  scorne 
to  leaue,  till  he  had  receiued  a  fall,  or  him  that  being  pricked  in  5 
the   finger   with   a   Brable,  thrusteth   his  whole   arme   among  the 
thornes,  for  anger.      For  I  seeing  my  selfe  not  able  to  stande  on 
the  yce,  did  neuerthelesse  aduenture  to  runne,  and  being  with  my 
first  booke  striken  into  disgrace,  could  not  cease  vntil  I  was  brought 
into  contempt  by  the  secod  :  wherein  I  resemble  those  that  hauing  10 
once  wet  their  feete,  care  not  how  deepe  they  wade. 

In  the  which  my  wading  (right  Honourable)  if  the  enuious  shal 
clap  lead  to  my  heeles  to  make  me  sinke,  yet  if  your  Lordship  with 
your  lyttle  finger  doe  but  holde  me  vp  by  the  chinne,  I  shall  swimme, 
and  be  so  farre  from  being  drowned,  that  I  shall  scarce  be  duckt.  15 

When  Bucephalus  was  painted,  Appelles  craued  the  iudgement 
of  none  but  Zeuxis :  when  luppiter  was  carued,  Prisius  asked  the 
censure  of  none  but  Lysippus  :  now  Euphues  is  shadowed,  only 
I  appeale  to  your  honour,  not  meaning  thereby  to  be  carelesse 
what  others  thinke,  but  knowing  that  if  your  Lordship  allowe  it,  20 
there  is  none  but  wil  lyke  it,  and  if  ther  be  any  so  nice,  whom 
nothing  can  please,  if  he  will  not  commend  it,  let  him  amend  it. 

And  heere  right  Honourable,  although  the  Historic  seeme  vnper- 
fect,  I  hope  your  Lordship  will  pardon  it. 

Appelles  dyed  not  before  he  could  finish  Venus,  but  before  he  25 
durst,   Nichomachus  left  Tindarides  rawly,  for  feare  of  anger,  not 
for  want  of  Art,  Timomachus  broke  off  Medea  scarce  halfe  coloured, 
not  that  he  was  not  willing  to  end  it,  but  that  he  was  threatned  : 
I  haue  not  made  Euphues  to  stand  without  legges,  for  that  I  want 
matter  to  make  them,   but  might  to  maintein  the  :    so  that  I  am  30 
enforced  with  the  olde  painters,   to  colour  my  picture  but  to  the 
middle,  or  as  he  that  drew  Ciclops,  who  in  a  little  table  made  him 
to  lye  behinde  an  Oke,  wher  one  might  perceiue  but  a  peece,  yet 
coceiue  that  al  the  rest  lay  behinde  the  tree,  or  as  he  that  painted 
an  horse  in  the  riuer  with  halfe  legges,  leauing  the  pasternes  for  the  35 
viewer,  to  imagine  as  in  the  water. 

For  he  that  vieweth  Euphues,   wil  say  that  he  is  drawen  but  to 

4  Olympus  E  rest  6  arme  among]  hande  amongst  E  rest  9  striken] 

brought  E  rest  17  Zeuxes  F  rest    '         25-6  Appelles  .  .  .  durst  om.  1617 

rest  32  or  om.  E  rest  35  an]  a  E  rest 


THE   EPISTLE   DEDICATORY  7 

the  wast,  that  he  peepeth,  as  it  were  behinde  some  screene,  that 
his  feet  are  yet  in  the  water :  which  maketh  me  present  your 
Lordship,  with  the  mangled  body  of  Hector,  at  it  appeared  to 
Andromache,  &  with  half  a  face  as  the  painter  did  him  that  had  but 
5  one  eye,  for  I  am  compelled  to  draw  a  hose  on,  before  I  can  finish 
the  legge,  &  in  steed  of  a  foot  to  set  downe  a  shoe.  So  that  whereas 
I  had  thought  to  shew  the  cunning  of  a  Chirurgian  by  mine  Anatomy 
with  a  knife,  I  must  play  the  Tayler  on  the  shoppe  boorde  with 
a  paire  of  sheeres.  But  whether  Euphues  lympe  with  Vulcan,  as 

10  borne  lame,  or  go  on  stilts  with  Amphionax,  for  lack  of  legs,  I  trust 
I  may  say,  that  his  feet  shold  haue  ben,  olde  Helena  :  for  the  poore 
Fisher-man  that  was  warned  he  should  not  fish,  did  yet  at  his  dore 
make  nets,  and  the  olde  Vintener  of  Venice,  that  was  forbidden  to 
sell  wine,  did  notwithstanding  hang  out  an  luie  bush. 

15  This  Pamphlet  right  honorable,  coteining  the  estate  of  England, 
I  know  none  more  fit  to  defend  it,  the  one  of  the  Nobilitie  of 
England,  nor  any  of  the  Nobilitie,  more  auntient  or  more  honorable 
the  your  Lordship,  besides  that,  describing  the  codition  of  the 
English  court,  &  the  maiestie  of  our  dread  Souereigne,  I  could  not 

20  finde  one  more  noble  in  court,  the  your  Honor,  who  is  or  should  be 
vnder  hir  Maiestie  chiefest  in  court,  by  birth  borne  to  the  greatest 
Office,  &  therfore  me  thought  by  right  to  be  placed  in  great  autho- 
ritie :  for  who  so  copareth  the  honor  of  your  L.  noble  house,  with 
the  fidelitie  of  your  aucestours,  may  wel  say,  which  no  other  can 

25  truly  gainsay,  Vero  nihil  verius.  So  that  I  commit  the  ende  of  al 
my  pains  vnto  your  most  honorable  protectio,  assuring  my  self  that 
the  little  Cock  boat  is  safe,  whe  it  is  noised  into  a  tall  ship,  that  the 
Cat  dare  not  fetch  the  mouse  out  of  the  Lions  den,  that  Euphues 
shal  be  without  daunger  by  your  L.  Patronage,  otherwise,  I  canot 

30  see,  wrier  I  might  finde  succour  in  any  noble  personage.  Thus 
praying  cotinually  for  the  encrease  of  your  Lordships  honour,  with 
all  other  things  that  either  you  woulde  wish,  or  God  will  graunt, 

I  ende. 

Your  Lordships  most  dutifully  to  commaund. 

35  JOHN  LYLY. 

i  from  before  behinde  E  rest  2  yet]  as  yet  E :    as  it  were  F  rest  3 

wounded  F  rest  10  lack]  want  F  rest  n  that  om.  E  rest  15  This 

Pamphlet  &c.  new  par.  first  in  E  20  in  court]  in  the  Court  E  rest  21 

in  chiefest  Court  .£-1617,  1630-36  23,  29  L.]  Lordships  E  rest  23 

with]  and  BE  rest  28  out  om.  B  32  either  om.  E  rest  35  LYLY 

MAB.  Lilly  E :  Lily  Fff:  Lylie  1617  rest 


1  TO    THE  LADIES 

and  Gentlewoemen  of  England, 

lohn  Lyly  wisheth  what 

they  would. 

ARachne  hailing  wouen  in  cloth  of  Arras,  a  Raine-bow  of  sundry  5 
silkes,  it  was  obiected  vnto  hir  by  a  Ladie  more  captious  then 
cunning,  that  in  hir  worke  there  wanted  some  coulours  :   for  that  in 
a  Raine-bow  there  should  bee  all :  Unto  whom  she  replyed,  if  the 
coulours  lacke  thou  lookest  for,  thou  must  imagine  that  they  are  on 
the  other  side  of  the  cloth  :  For  in  the  Skie  wee  canne  discerne  but  10 
one  side  of  the  Raine-bowe,  and  what  couloures  are  in  the  other,  see 
wee  can-not,  gesse  wee  may. 

In  the  like  manner  (Ladies  and  Gentlewoemen)  am  I  to  shape  an 
aunswere  in  the  behalfe  of  Euphues,  who  framing  diuers  questions 
and  quirkes  of  loue,  if,  by  some  more  curious  then  needeth,  it  shall  15 
be  tolde  him,  that  some  sleightes  are  wanting,  I  must  saye  they  are 
noted  on  the  backside  of  the  booke.  When  Venus  is  paynted,  we 
can-not  see  hir  back,  but  hir  face,  so  that  all  other  thinges  that  are  to 
be  recounted  in  loue,  Euphues  thinketh  them  to  hang  at  Venus  back  in 
a  budget,  which  bicause  hee  can-not  see,  hee  will  not  set  downe.  20 

These  discourses  I  haue  not  clapt  in  a  cluster,  thinking  with  my 
selfe,  that  Ladies  had  rather  be  sprinckled  with  sweete  water,  then 
washed,  so  that  I  haue  sowed  them  heere  and  there,  lyke  Strawberies, 
not  in  heapes,  lyke  Hoppes  :  knowing  that  you  take  more  delyght, 
to  gather  flowers  one  by  one  in  a  garden,  then  to  snatche  them  by  25 
handfulles  from  a  Garland, 

It  resteth  Ladies,  that  you  take  the  paines  to  read  it,  but  at  such 
times,  as  you  spend  in  playing  with  your  little  Dogges,  and  yet  will 
I  not  pinch  you  of  that  pastime,  for  I  am  content  that  your  Dogges 
lye  in  your  laps,  so  Euphues  may  be  in  your  hads,  that  when  you  30 
shall  be  wearie  in  reading  of  the  one,  you  may  be  ready  to  sport 

i    This  Address  is  in  black  letter  in  MAB,  in  ordinary  ronians  in  1623,  in  small 
italics  in  £-161 7,  1630-36  3  Lyly  MAB :  Lilly  E  :  Lily  FH:  Lylie  1617 

rest  15  if,]  if  all  eds.  17  on]  in  F  rest  18-9  to  be  om.  H  rest 

21   Those  E  rest  23  lyke]  as  it  were  E  rest  24  lyke  Hoppes]  as  Hops 

be  E  rest  knowing  .  .  .  take]  because  I  perceiue  you  haue  E  rest  27 

take]  vouchsafe  E  rest 


TO   THE   LADIES   AND    GENTLEWOMEN  9 

With  the  other :  or  handle  him  as  you  doe  your  lunckets,  that  when 
you  can  eate  no  more,  you  tye  some  in  your  napkin  for  children,  for 
if  you  be  filled  with  the  first  part,  put  the  second  in  your  pocket 
for  your  wayting  Maydes  :  Euphues  had  rather  lye  shut  in  a  Ladyes 
5  casket,  then  open  in  a  Schollers  studie. 

Yet  after  dinner,  you  may  ouerlooke  him  to  keepe  you  from 
sleepe,  or  if  you  be  heauie,  to  bring  you  a  sleepe,  for  to  worke  vpon 
a  full  stomacke  is  against  Phisicke,  and  therefore  better  it  were 
to  holde  Euphues  in  your  hands,  though  you  let  him  fal,  when 
10  you  be  willing  to  winke,  then  to  sowe  in  a  clout,  and  pricke  your 
fingers,  when  you  begin  to  nod. 

What-soeuer  he  hath  written,  it  is  not  to  flatter,  for  he  neuer 
reaped  anye  rewarde  by  your  sex,  but  repentaunce,  neyther  canne  it 
be  to  mocke  you,  for  hee  neuer  knewe  anye  thing  by  your  sexe,  but 
15  righteousnesse. 

But  I  feare  no  anger  for  saying  well,  when  there  is  none    but 
thinketh  she  deserueth  better. 

She  that  hath  no  glasse  to  dresse  hir  head,  will  vse  a  bole  of 
water,  shee  that  wanteth  a  sleeke-stone  to  smooth  hir  linnen,  wil 
20  take  a  pebble,  the  country  dame  girdeth  hir  selfe  as  straight  in  the 
wast  with  a  course  caddis,  as  the  Madame  of  the  court  with  a  silke 
riband,  so  that  seeing  euerye  one  so  willing  to  be  pranked,  I  could 
not  thinke  any  one  vnwilling  to  be  praised. 

One  hand  washeth  an  other,  but  they  both  wash  the  face,  one 

25  foote  goeth  by  an  other,  but  they  both  carrye  the  body,  Euphues 

and  Philautus  prayse  one  an  other,  but  they  both  extoll  woemen  : 

Therfore  in  my  minde  you  are  more  beholding  to  Gentlemen  that 

make  the  coulours,  then  to  the  Painters,  that  drawe  your  counter- 

faites  :  for  that  Apelles  cunning  is  nothing  if  hee  paint  with  water, 

30  and  the  beautie  of  women  not  much  if  they  go  vnpraised. 

If  you  thinke  this  Loue  dreamed  not  done,  yet  mee  thinketh  you 
may  as  well  like  that  loue  which  is  penned  and  not  practised,  as  that 
flower  that  is  wrought  with  the  needle,  and  groweth  not  by  nature, 
the  one  you  weare  in  your  heades,  for  the  faire  sight,  though  it 
35  haue  no  fauour,  the  other  you  may  reade  for  to  passe  the  time, 
though  it  bring  small  pastime.  You  chuse  cloth  that  will  weare 
whitest,  not  that  will  last  longest,  coulours  that  looke  freshest,  not 
that  endure  soundest,  and  I  would  you  woulde  read  bookes  that 

2  your  before  children  E  rest         for 2]  or  E  rest  5  casket]  coffer  E  rest 

7  hauie  B  28-9  counterfaite  E  rest  33  the]  a  E  rest 


io  TO   THE   LADIES   AND   GENTLEWOMEN 

haue  more  shewe  of  pleasure,  then  ground  of  profit,  then  should 
Euphues  be  as  often  in  your  hands,  being  but  a  toy,  as  Lawne 
on  your  heads,  being  but  trash,  the  one  will  be  scarce  liked  after 
once  reading,  and  the  other  is  worne  out  after  the  first  washing. 

There  is  nothing  lyghter  then  a  feather,  yet  is  it  sette  a  loft  in  5 
a  woemans  hatte,  nothing  slighter  then  haire,  yet  is  it  most  frisled  in 
a  Ladies  head,  so  that  I  am  in  good  hope,  though  their  be  nothing 
of  lesse  accounte  then  Euphues,  yet  he  shall  be  marked  with  Ladies 
eyes,  and  lyked  somtimes  in  their  eares :  For  this  I  haue  diligently 
obserued,  that  there  shall  be  nothing  found,  that  may  offend  the  ro 
chast  minde  with  vnseemely  tearmes,  or  vncleanly  talke. 

Then  Ladies  I  commit  my  selfe  to  your  curtesies,  crauing  this 
only,  that  hauing  read,  you  conceale  your  censure,  writing  your 
iudgments  as  you  do  the  posies  in  your  rings,  which  are  alwayes 
next  to  the  finger,  not  to  be  scene  of  him  that  holdeth  you  by  15 
the  hands,  and  yet  known  to  you  that  wear  them  on  your  hands : 
If  you  be  wronge  (which  cannot  be  done  with-out  wrong)  it  were 
better  to  cut  the  shooe,  then  burne  the  last. 

If  a  Tailour  make  your  gowne  too  little,  you  couer  his  fault  with 
a  broad  stomacher,  if  too  great,  with  a  number  of  plights,   if  too  20 
short,  with  a  faire  garde,   if  too  long,   with  a  false  gathering,  my 
trust  is  you  will  deale  in   the   like   manner  with  Euphues,   that  if 
he  haue  not  fead  your  humor,  yet  you  will  excuse  him  more  then 
the   Tailour :    for  could  Euphues  take  the  measure  of  a  womans 
minde,  as  the  Tailour  doth  of  hir  bodie,  hee  would  go  as  neere  25 
to  fit  them  for  a  fancie,  as  the  other  doth  for  a  fashion. 

Hee  that  weighes  wind,  must  haue  a  steadie  hand  to  holde  the 
ballaunce,  and  he  that  sercheth  a  woemans  thoughts  must  haue 
his  own  stayed.  But  least  I  make  my  Epistle  as  you  do  your  new 
found  bracelets,  endlesse,  I  wil  frame  it  like  a  bullet,  which  is  no  3° 
sooner  in  the  mould  but  it  is  made.  Committing  your  Ladiships 
to  the  Almightie,  who  graunt  you  al  you  would  haue,  and  should 
haue :  so  your  wishes  stand  with  his  will.  And  so  humbly  I  bid 

you  farewell. 

Your  Ladiships  to  commaund  35 

IOHN  LYLY. 

7  there  GE  rest         17  wronge]  wrunge  B '£f rest :  wroong  GE        20   pleights 
Frest  22Euph:^^  2  3  he]  we  H  rest  fedde  GE  rest  27 

winds  E  rest  29  your  om.  Frest  33  1  humbly  E  rest  36  LYLY 

MAB  :  Lily  E-H\  Lylie  1617  rest 


To  the  Gentlemen 
Readers. 


Entlemen,  Euphues  is  come  at  the  length  though  too  late,  for 
V_T     whose  absence,  I  hope  three  badde  excuses,  shall  stande  in 
5  steede  of  one  good  reason. 

First  in  his  trauaile,  you  must  think  he  loytered,  tarying  many 

a  month  in  Italy  viewing  the  Ladyes  in  a  Painters  shop,  when  he 

should  haue  bene  on  the  Seas  in  a  Merchaunts  ship,  not  vnlike 

vnto  an  idle  huswife,  who  is  catching   of  flyes,   when  she  should 

10  sweepe  downe  copwebs. 

Secondly,  being  a  great  start  from  Athens  to  England,  he  thought 
to  stay  for  the  aduantage  of  a  Leape  yeare,  and  had  not  this  yeare 
leapt  with  him,  I  think  he  had  not  yet  leapt  hether. 

Thirdly,  being  arriued,  he  was  as  long  in  viewing  of  London,  as 
15  he  was  in  comming  to  it,  not  farre  differing  from  Gentlewome,  who 
are  longer  a  dressing  their  heads  then  their  whole  bodyes. 

But  now  he  is  come  Gentlemen,  my  request  is  onely  to  bid  him 
welcome,  for  diuers  ther  are,  not  that  they  mislike  the  matter,  but 
that  they  hate  the  man,  that  wil  not  stick  to  teare  Euphues,  bicause 
20  they  do  enuie  Lyly :  Where-in  they  resemble  angry  Dogges,  which 
byte  the  stone,  not  him  that  throweth  it,  or  the  cholaricke  Horse- 
rider,  who  being  cast  from  a  young  Colt,  &  not  daring  to  kill  the 
Horse  went  into  the  stable  to  cutte  the  saddle. 

These  be  they,  that  thought  Euphues  to  be  drowned  and  yet 
25  were  neuer  troubled  with  drying  of  his  clothes,  but  they  gessed  as 
they  wished,  and  I  woulde  it  had  happened  as  they  desired. 

They  that  loath  the  Fountaines  heade,   will  neuer  drinke  of  the 
lyttle  Brookes  :  they  that  seeke  to  poyson  the  Fish,  will  neuer  eate 
the  spawme  :  they  that  lyke  not  mee,  will  not  allowe  anye  thing, 
30  that  is  mine. 

3  at  the  length  so  all  (cf.p.  74,  /.  10)  6  trauell  H  rest  10  downe  om.  E 
rest  16  all  before  their2  E  rest  18  mislike]  dislike  F  rest  20  Lily 

E-H\  Lylie  1617  rest  29  Spawn  E  rest 


12  TO   THE   GENTLEMEN   READERS 

But  as  the  Serpent  Porphirius,  though  he  bee  full  of  poyson  yet 
hauing  no  teeth,  hurteth  none  but  himselfe,  so  the  enuious,  though 
they  swell  with  malyce  till  they  burst,  yet  hauing  no  teeth  to  bite, 
I  haue  no  cause  to  feare. 

Onely  my  sute  is  to  you  Gentlemen,  that  if  anye  thing  bee  amisse,  5 
you  pardon  it :  if  well,  you  defende  it :  and  how-soeuer  it  bee,  you 
accepte  it. 

Faultes  escaped  in  the  Printing,  correcte  with  your  pennes : 
omitted  by  my  neglygence,  ouerslippe  with  patience  :  committed  by 
ignoraunce,  remit  with  fauour.  10 

If  in  euery  part  it  seeme  not  alyke,  you  know  that  it  is  not  for 
him  that  fashioneth  the  shoe,  to  make  the  graine  of  the  leather. 

The  olde  Hermit  will  haue  his  talke  sauour  of  his  Cell :  the  olde 
Courtier,  his  loue  taste  of  Saturne  :  yet  the  last  Louer,  may  happely 
come  somwhat  neere  luppiter.  15 

Louers  when  they  come  into  a  Gardeine,  some  gather  Nettles, 
some  Roses,  one  Tyme,  an  other  Sage,  and  euerye  one,  that,  for 
his  Ladyes  fauour,  that  shee  fauoureth :  insomuch  as  there  is  no 
Weede  almoste,  but  it  is  worne.  If  you  Gentlemen,  doe  the  lyke  in 
reading,  I  shall  bee  sure  all  my  discourses  shall  be  regarded,  some  20 
for  the  smell,  some  for 

the  smart,  all  for  a  kinde  of  a  louing  smacke : 

Lette  euerye  one  followe  his  fancie,  and 

say  that  is  best,  which  he  lyketh  best. 

And  so  I  commit  euerye  mans  25 

delight  to  his  own  choice,  & 

my  selfe  to  all  your 

courtesies. 

Yours  to  vse, 
lohn  Lyly.  30 

6  de-defende  MA  13  his2]  the  E  rest  14  first  before  loue  F  rest 

17  an]  one  E  19  it  cm.  F  rest  22  a2  om.  E  rest  23  owne  before 

fancie  E  rest  25  I  om,  BE  1623  30  Lily  FH  \  Lylie  1617  rest 


Euphues  and  his  England. 


EVphues  hauing  gotten  all  things  necessary  for  his  voyage  into 
t     England,  accompanied  onelye  with  Philautus,  tooke  shipping 
the  first  of  December,  1579,  by  our  English  Computation:  Who  as 
5  one  resolued  to  see   that  with  his  eies,  which  he  had  oftentimes 
heard  with  his  eares,   began  to  vse  this  perswasion  to  his  friend 
Philautus,  aswell  to  counsell  him  how  he  should  behaue  him-selfe  in 
England,  as  to  comfort  him  beeing  nowe  on  the  Seas. 

As  I  haue  found  thee  willing  to  be  a  fellow  in  my  trauell,  so  would 

10  I  haue  thee  ready  to  be  a  follower  of  my  counsell :  in  the  one  shalt 
thou  shew  thy  good  will,  in  the  other  manifest  thy  wisdome.  Wee 
are  now  sayling  into  an  Hand  of  smal  compasse  as  I  gesse  by  their 
Maps,  but  of  great  ciuility  as  I  hear  by  their  maners,  which  if  it  be 
so,  it  behooueth  vs  to  be  more  inquisitiue  of  their  conditions,  then 

15  of  their  countrey  :  and  more  carefull  to  marke  the  natures  of  their 
men,  then  curious  to  note  the  situation  of  the  place.  And  surely 
me  thinketh  we  cannot  better  bestow  our  time  on  the  Sea,  then  in 
aduise  how  to  behaue  our  selues  when  we  come  to  ye  shore  :  for 
greater  dauger  is  ther  to  ariue  in  a  straunge  countrey  where  the 

20  inhabitants  be  pollitique,  then  to  be  tossed  with  the  troublesome 
waues,  where  the  Mariners  be  vnskilfull.  Fortune  guideth  men  in 
the  rough  Sea,  but  Wisdome  ruleth  them  in  a  straunge  land. 

If  Trauailers  in  this  our  age  were  as  warye  of  their  conditions,  as 
they  be  venterous  of  their  bodyes,  or  as  willing  to  reape  profit  by 

25  their  paines,  as  they  are  to  endure  perill  for  their  pleasure,  they 
would  either  prefer  their  own  foyle  before  a  straunge  Land,  or  good 
counsell  before  their  owne  conceyte.  But  as  the  young  scholler  in 
Athens  went  to  heare  Demosthenes  eloquence  at  Corinth,  and  was 
entangled  with  Lais  beautie,  so  most  of  our  trauailers  which  pretend 

?,o  to  get  a  smacke  of  straunge  language  to  sharpen  their  wits,   are 

6  to2]  with  A  rest  8  now  being  F rest  10-1  thou  shalt  E  rest 

1 8  ye  om.  FH 


i4  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

infected  with  vanity  by  following  their  wils.  Daunger  and  delight 
growe  both  vppon  one  stalke,  the  Rose  and  the  Canker  in  one  bud, 
white  and  blacke  are  commonly  in  one  border.  Seeing  then  my 
good  Philautus,  that  we  are  not  to  coquer  wilde  beasts  by  fight,  but 
to  confer  with  wise  men  by  pollicie  :  We  ought  to  take  greater  heede  5 
that  we  be  not  intrapped  in  follye,  then  feare  to  bee  subdued  by 
force.  And  heere  by  the  way  it  shall  not  be  amisse,  aswell  to  driue 
away  the  tediousnesse  of  time,  as  to  delight  our  selues  with  talke,  to 
rehearse  an  olde  treatise  of  an  auncient  Hermitte,  who  meeting  with 
a  pylgrime  at  his  Cell,  vttered  a  straunge  and  delightfull  tale,  which  10 
if  thou  Philautus  art  disposed  to  heare,  and  these  present  atten- 
tiue  to  haue,  I  will  spende  some  time  about  it,  knowing  it  both  fit 
for  vs  that  be  trauailers  to  learne  wit,  and  not  vnfit  for  these  that  be 
Merchaunts  to  get  wealth. 

Philautus  although  the  stumpes  of  loue  so  sticked  in  his  mind,  15 
that  he  rather  wished  to  heare  an  Eelegie  in  Quid,  then  a  tale  of  an 
Hermit :  yet  was  hee  willing  to  lend  his  eare  to  his  friende,  who 
had  left  his  heart  with  his  Lady,  for  you  shal  vnderstand  that 
Philautus  hauing  read  the  Cooling  Carde  which  Euphues  sent  him, 
sought  rather  to  aunswere  it,  then  allowe  it.  And  I  doubt  not  but  20 
if  Philautus  fall  into  his  olde  vaine  in  England,  you  shall  heare  of 
his  new  deuice  in  Italy.  And  although  some  shall  thinke  it  imper 
tinent  to  the  historic,  they  shall  not  finde  it  repugnant,  no  more  then 
in  one  nosegay  to  set  two  flowers,  or  in  one  counterfaite  two  coulours, 
which  bringeth  more  delight,  then  disliking.  25 

Philautus  aunswered  Euphues  in  this  manner. 

]\/T  Y  good  Euphues,  I  am  as  willing  to  heare  thy  tale,  as  I  am  to 
be  pertaker  of  thy  trauaile,  yet  I  knowe  not  howe  it  commeth 
to  passe,  that  my  eyes  are  eyther  heauy  against  foule  weather,  or  my 
head  so  drowsie  against  some  ill  newes,  that  this  tale  shall  come  in  3° 
good  time  to  bring  me  a  sleepe,  and  then  shall  I  get  no  harme  by 
the  Hermit,  though  I  get  no  good  :  the  other  that  wer  then  in  the 
shippe  flocked  about  Euphues,  who  began  in  this  manner. 

'  I  ^"Here    dwelt   some-tymes    in    the    Hand    Scyrum,   an   auncient 

gentleman  called  Cassander,  who  aswell  by  his  being  a  long  35 
gatherer,  as  his  trad  being  a  lewd  vsurer,  waxed  so  wealthy,  that  he 

i  by]  in  G  rest         8  to1  om.  H  rest          13  those  E  rest          16  a]  the  E  rest 
31  asleepe  FH  1623  res'.  36  at  his  trade,  E  lewd  A-F  1623,  1636: 

lowd  M\  leaud  H  1617,  1630-31 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  15 

was  thought  to  haue  almost  all  the  money  in  that  countrey  in  his 
owne  coffers,  being  both  aged  and  sickly,  found  such  weaknesse  in 
him-selfe,  that  he  thought  nature  would  yeeld  to  death,  and  phisicke 
to  his  diseases.  This  Gentleman  had  one  onely  sonne,  who  nothing 
5  resembled  the  father  either  in  fancie  or  fauour,  which  the  olde  manne 
perceiuing,  dissembled  with  him  both  in  nature  and  honestie,  whom 
he  caused  to  be  called  vnto  his  bedside,  and  the  chamber  beeing 
voyded,  he  brake  with  him  in  these  tearmes. 

Callimachus  (for  so  was  hee  called)  thou  art  too  young  to  dye,  and 

10  I  too  old  to  lyue :  yet  as  nature  must  of  necessitie  pay  hir  debt  to 
death,  so  must  she  also  shew  hir  deuotion  to  thee,  whome  I  aliue 
had  to  be  the  comfort  of  myne  age,  and  whome  alone  I  must  leaue 
behynde  mee,  for  to  bee  the  onely  maynteiner  of  all  myne  honour. 
If  thou  couldest  aswell  conceiue  the  care  of  a  father,  as  I  can  leuel 

15  at  the  nature  of  a  childe,  or  wer  I  as  able  to  vtter  my  affectio  towards 
a  sonne  as  thou  oughtest  to  shew  thy  duety  to  thy  sire,  then  wouldest 
thou  desire  my  life  to  enioy  my  counsell,  and  I  should  correct  thy 
life  to  amend  thy  conditions  :  yet  so  tempered,  as  neyther  rigor  might 
detract  any  thing  from  affection  in  me,  or  feare  any  whit  from  thee, 

20  in  duety.  But  seeing  my  selfe  so  feeble  that  I  cannot  liue  to 
bee  thy  guyde,  I  am  resolued  to  giue  thee  such  counsell  as  may 
do  thee  good,  wher-in  I  shal  shew  my  care,  and  discharge  my 
duetie. 

My  good  sonne,  thou  art  to  receiue  by  my  death  wealth,   and 

25  by  my  counsel  wisdom,  and  I  would  thou  wert  as  willing  to  imprint 
the  one  in  thy  hart,  as  thou  wilt  be  ready  to  beare  the  other  in  thy 
purse :  to  bee  rich  is  the  gift  of  Fortune,  to  bee  wise  the  grace  of 
God.  Haue  more  minde  on  thy  bookes  then  my  bags,  more  desire 
of  godlinesse  then  gold,  greater  affection  to  dye  well,  then  to  liue 

30  wantonly. 

But  as  the  Cypresse  tree,  the  more  it  is  watered,  the  more  it 
withereth,  and  the  oftner  it  is  lopped,  the  sooner  it  dyeth,  so 
vnbrideled  youth,  the  more  it  is  also  by  graue  aduise  counselled, 
or  due  correction  controlled,  the  sooner  it  falleth  to  confusion,  hating 

35  all  reasons  that  would  bring  it  from  folly,  as  that  tree  doth  all 
remedies,  that  should  make  it  fertile. 

Alas  Callimachus,  when  wealth  commeth  into  the  handes  of  youth 
before  they  can  vse  it,  then  fall  they  to  al  disorder  that  may  be, 

13  my  E  rest         17  corrupt  G  28  my]  thy  ABG  :  on  thy  E  rest  33 

also  oni.  E  rest 


16  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

tedding  that  with  a  forke  in  one  yeare,  which  was  not  gathered 
together  with  a  rake,  in  twentie. 

But  why  discourse  I  with  thee  of  worldly  affaires,  being  my  self 
going  to  heauen,  heere  Callimachus  take  the  key  of  yonder  great 
barred  Chest,  wher  thou  shalt  finde  such  store  of  wealth,  that  if  5 
thou  vse  it  with  discretion,  thou  shalt  become  the  onely  rich  man 
of  the  world.  Thus  turning  him  on  his  left  side,  with  a  deepe  sigh 
and  pitifull  grone,  gaue  vp  the  ghoast. 

Callimachus  )  hauing  more  minde  to  looke  to  the  locke,  then  for 
a   shrowding  sheete,  the  breath  beeing   scarce   out  of  his  fathers  IP 
mouth,  &  his  body  yet  panting  with  heate,  opened  the  Chest,  where 
he  found  nothing,  but  a  letter  written  very  faire,  sealed  vp  with  his 
Signet  of  armes,  with  this  superscription  : 

U  In  finding  nothing,  thou  shalt  gaine  all  things. 

Callimachus,  although  hee  were  abasshed  at  sight  of  the  emptie  15 
Chest,  yet  hoping  this  letter  would  direct  him  to  the  golden  Myne, 
he  boldly  opened  it,  the  contents  whereoff,  follow  in  these  termes. 


is  great  wealth.  Sparing,  is  good  getting.  Thrift 
consisteth  not  in  golde,  but  grace.  It  is  better  to  dye 
with-out  mony,  then  to  liue  with  out  modestie.  Put  no  more  clothes  20 
on  thy  back,  then  will  expell  colde  :  neither  any  more  meat  in  thy 
belly,  then  may  quech  hunger.  Use  not  chauge  in  attire,  nor 
varietie  in  thy  dyet  :  the  one  bringeth  pride,  the  other  surfets.  Each 
vaine,  voyd  of  pietie  :  both  costly,  wide  of  profit. 

Goe   to   bed  with   the   Lambe,    &   rise   with  the    Larke  :    Late  25 
watching  in  the  night,  breedeth  vnquyet  :    &  long  sleeping  in  the 
day,    vngodlinesse  :    Flye   both  :   this,    as    vnwholsome  :    that,    as 
vnhonest. 

Enter  not  into  bands,  no  not  for  thy  best  friends  :  he  that  payeth 
an  other  mans  debt  seeketh  his  own  decay,  it  is  as  rare  to  see  a  rich  30 
Surety,  as  a  black  Swan,  and  he  that  lendeth  to  all  that  will  borowe, 
sheweth  great  good  will,  but  lyttle  witte.  Lende  not  a  penny  with 
out  a  pawne,  for  that  will  be  a  good  gage  to  borowe.  Be  not  hastie 
to  marry,  it  is  better  to  haue  one  plough  going,  then  two  cradells  : 
and  more  profit  to  haue  a  barne  filled  then  a  bedde.  But  if  thou  35 

7  his]  the  A  rest          12  &  before  sealed  F  rest         13  of]  at  F  rest          15  the 
before  sight  A  rest  17  followed  B  rest  21  thy2]  the  H 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  17 

canst  not  liue  chastly,  chuse  such  an  one,  as  maye  be  more  com 
mended  for  humilitie,  then  beautie.  A  good  huswife,  is  a  great 
patrimony:  and  she  is  most  honourable,  that  is  most  honest.  If 
thou  desire  to  be  olde,  beware  of  too  much  wine :  If  to  be  healthy, 

5  take  heede  of  many  women  :  If  too  be  rich,  shunne  playing  at  al 
games.  Long  quaffing,  maketh  a  short  lyfe :  Fonde  lust,  causeth 
drye  bones  :  and  lewd  pastimes,  naked  pursses.  Let  the  Cooke  be 
thy  Phisition,  and  the  shambles  thy  Apothecaries  shop :  He  that 
for  euery  qualme  wil  take  a  Receipt,  and  can-not  make  two  meales, 

10  vnlesse  Galen  be  his  Gods  good  :  shall  be  sure  to  make  the  Phisition 
rich,  and  himselfe  a  begger :  his  bodye  will  neuer  be  with-out 
diseases,  and  his  pursse  euer  with-out  money. 

Be  not  too  lauish  in  giuing  almes,  the  charitie  of  this  Countrey, 
is,  God  helpe  thee  :  and  the  courtesie,  I  haue  the  best  wine  in  towne 

1 5  for  you. 

Liue  in  the  Countrey,  not  in  the  Court :  where  neither  Grasse 
will  growe,  nor  Mosse  cleaue  to  thy  heeles. 

Thus  hast  thou  if  thou  canst  vse  it,  the  whole  wealth  of  the  world  : 
and  he  that  can-not  follow  good  counsel,  neuer  can  get  cornmoditie. 

20  I  leaue  thee  more,  then  my  father  left  me :  For  he  dying,  gaue  me 
great  wealth,  without  care  how  I  might  keepe  it :  and  I  giue  thee 
good  counsell,  with  all  meanes  how  to  get  riches.  And  no  doubt, 
what  so  is  gotten  with  witte,  will  bee  kept  with  warinesse,  and 
encreased  with  Wisedome. 

25  God  blesse  thee,  and  I  blesse  thee :  and  as  I  tender  thy  safetie, 
so  God  deale  with  my  soule. 

Callimachus  was  stroken  into  such  a  maze,  at  this  his  fathers  last 
Will,   that  he  had  almost  lost  his  former  wit  :    And  being  in  an 
extreame  rage,  renting  his  clothes  and  tearing  his  haire,  began  to 
3°  vtter  these  words. 

IS  this  the  nature  of  a  Father  to  deceiue  his  sonne,  or  the  part  of 
crabbed  age,  to  delude  credulous  youth  ?     Is  the  death  bedde 
which  ought  to  bee  the  ende  of  deuotion,  become  the  beginning  of 
deceipt  ?     Ah  Cassander^  friend  I  can-not  terme  thee,  seeing  thee 
35  so  vnkinde:   and   father  I  will  not  call  thee,   whome  I   nnde  so 
vnnaturall. 

i  an]  a  ^-1623  4  healthy]  wealthie  E  rest  5  al  om.  E  rest  8 

thy2]  the  E         14  the  before  towne  E  rest          27  strooken  EF:  strucken  H  rest 
29-30  began  to  vttcr]  he  vttered  G  rest 

BOND  II  C 


1 8  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Who  so  shall  heare  of  this  vngratefulnesse,  will  rather  lament  thy 
dealyng,  then  thy  death :  and  maruel  y*  a  man  affected  outwardly 
with  such  great  grauitie,  should  inwardly  be  infected  with  so  great 
guile.  Shall  I  then  shew  the  duetie  of  a  childe,  when  thou  hast 
forgotten  the  Nature  of  a  Father  ?  No,  no,  for  as  the  Torch  tourned  5 
downewarde,  is  extinguished  with  the  selfe  same  waxe  which  was 
the  cause  of  his  lyght :  so  Nature  tourned  to  vnkindenesse,  is 
quenched  by  those  meanes  it  shoulde  be  kindeled,  leauing  no 
braunch  of  loue,  where  it  founde  no  roote  of  humanitie. 

Thou  hast  caryed  to  thy  graue  more  graye  haires,  then  yeares  :  10 
and  yet  more  yeares,  then  vertues.     Couldest  thou  vnder  the  Image 
of  so  precise  holynesse,  harbour  the  expresse  patterne  of  barbarous 
crueltie  ?     I  see  now,  that  as  the  Canker  soonest  entreth  into  the 
white  Rose,  so  corruption  doth  easliest  creepe  into  the  white  head. 

Would  Callimachns  could  as  well  disgest  thy  malyce  with  patience,  15 
as  thou  diddest  disguise  it  with  craft :  or  would  I  might  either  burie 
my  care  with  thy  carcasse,  or  that  thou  hadst  ended  thy  defame  with 
thy  death. 

But  as  ye  hearb  Moly  hath  a  floure  as  white  as  snow,  &  a  roote 
as  blacke  as  incke  :  so  age  hath  a  white  head,  showing  pietie,  but  20 
a  black  hart  swelling  w*  mischiefe. 

Wher-by  I  see,  that  olde  men  are  not  vnlyke  vnto  olde  Trees, 
whose  barkes  seemeth  to  be  sound,  when  their  bodies  are  rotten. 

I  will  mourne,  not  that  thou  art  now  dead,  but  bicause  thou  hast 
liued  so  long  :  neither  doe  I  weepe  to  see  thee  without  breath,  but  25 
to  finde  thee  without  mony. 

In  steede  of  coyne,  thou  hast  left  me  counsaile  :  O  polytique  olde 
man.  Didst  thou  learne  by  experience,  that  an  edge  can  be  any 
thing  worth,  if  it  haue  nothing  to  cut,  or  y*  Myners  could  worke 
without  mettals,  or  Wisedome  thriue,  with-out  where-with.  30 

What  auayleth  it  to  be  a  cunning  Lapidarie,  and  haue  no  stones  ? 
or  a  skilfull  Pilot,  and  haue  no  ship  ?  or  a  thriftie  man,  and  haue  no 
money.  Wisdome  hath  no  Mint,  Counsell  is  no  Coyner.  He  that 
in  these  dayes  seeketh  to  get  wealth  by  wit,  with-out  friends,  is  lyke 
vnto  him,  that  thinketh  to  buye  meate  in  the  market  for  honestie  35 
with-out  money  :  which  thriueth  on  either  side  so  well,  that  the  one 
hath  a  wittie  head  and  an  emptie  pursse  :  the  other  a  godly  minde, 
&  an  emptie  belly. 

i  this]  his  E  3  with1  om.  A  13  sooner  E-H  14  easily  E  rest 

20  pittie  E  rest  23  seemeth]  seeme  F  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  19 

Yea,  such  a  world  it  is,  that  Gods  can  do  nothing  with-out  golde, 
and  who  of  more  might  ?  nor  Princes  any  thing  with-out  gifts,  and 
who  of  more  Maiestie  ?  nor  Philosophers  any  thing  with-out  guylt, 
and  who  of  more  wisedome  ?  For  as  among  the  Aegyptians,  there 
5  was  no  man  esteemed  happie,  that  had  not  a  beast  full  of  spots,  so 
amongst  vs  ther  is  none  accompted  wise  that  hath  not  a  purse  full 
of  golde.  And  haddest  thou  not  loued  money  so  well,  thou  wouldest 
neuer  haue  liued  so  warily  and  died  so  wickedly,  who  either  burying 
thy  treasure,  doest  hope  to  meete  it  in  hell,  or  borowing  it  of  the 
10  Diuel  hast  rendred  him  the  whole,  the  interest  where-of  I  feare  me 
commeth  to  no  lesse  then  the  price  of  thy  soule. 

But  whether  art  thou  caried,  Callimachus,  rage  can  neither  reduce 
thy  fathers  life,  nor  recouer  his  treasure.     Let  it  suffice  thee,  that  he 
was  vnkinde,  and  thou  vnfortunate,  that  he  is  dead  and  heareth  thee 
15  not,  that  thou  art  a  liue  and  profitest  nothing. 

But  what  did  my  father  think,  that  too  much  wealth  would  make 

me  proud,  and  feared  not  too  great  misery  would  make  me  desperate  ? 

Whilest  he  was  beginning  a  fresh  to  renew  his  complaints  &  reuile. 

his  parents,  his  kinsfolke  assembled,  who  caused  him  to  bridle  his 

20  lauish  tongue,  although  they  meruailed  at  his  pitious  tale  :  For  it 

was  well  knowne  to  them  all,  that  Cassandcr  had  more  mony  then 

halfe  the  countrey,  and  loued  Callimachus  better  then  his  own  selfe. 

Callimachus  by  the  importunitie  of  his  allies,  repressed  his  rage, 

setting  order  for  all  thinges  requisite  for  his  fathers  funeralles,  who 

25  being  brought  with  due  reuerence  vnto  the  graue,  hee  returned  home, 

making   a   short  Inuentorie  to  his  fathers  long  Wil.     And  hauing 

made  ready  money  of  such  mouable&  as  were  in  his  house,  putte 

both  them  and  his  house  into  his  purse,  resoluing  now  with  him-selfe 

in  this  extremitie,  eyther  with  the  hazarde  of  his  labour  to  gayne 

30  wealth,  or  by  mysfortune  to  seeke  death,  accompting  it  great  shame 

to  liue  with-out  trauell,  as  griefe  to  bee  left  with-out  treasure,  and 

although  hee  were    earnestly   entreated,  as   well   by  good  proffers 

of  gentle  perswasions  to  weane  him-selfe  from  so  desolate,  or  rather 

desperate  lyfe,  hee  would  not  hearken  eyther  to  his  owne  commodi- 

35  ties  or  their  counselles :  For  seeing  (sayd  hee)  I  am  left  heyre  to  all 

the  worlde,  I  meane  to  execute  my  authoritie,  and  clayme  my  lands 

in  all  places  of  the  world.     Who  now  so  rich  as  Callimachus  ?     Who 

I  that]  ye  E  rest  3  of  more]  of  who  more  A  gylt  ABG\  guilt  E  : 

gilt  F  rest          6  a]  his  A  rest          15  aliue  A  rest         30  as  before  great  GE  rat 
32  -was  F  rest  33  Qi~]s&Frest  35  their  om.  E  rest  36  to  before 

claime  E  rest 

C  2 


20  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

nad  as  many  reuenues  euery  where  as  in  his  owne  countrey  ?  Thus 
beeyng  in  a  readines  to  departe,  apparrelled  in  all  coulours,  as  one 
fitte  for  all  companies,  and  willing  to  see  all  countries,  iournyed 
three  or  foure  dayes  verye  deuoutlye  lyke  a  pilgrime,  who  straying 
out  of  his  pathway,  &  somwhat  weary,  not  vsed  to  such  day-labours,  5 
rested  him-self  vppon  the  side  of  a  siluer  streame,  euen  almost  in 
the  grisping  of  the  euening,  where  thinking  to  steale  a  nappe, 
beganne  to  close  his  eyes.  As  he  was  thus  between  slumbring  and 
waking,  he  heard  one  cough  pitiously,  which  caused  him  to  start : 
and  seeing  no  creature,  hee  searched  diligently  in  euery  bushe  and  10 
vnder  euery  shrubbe,  at  the  last  he  lyghted  on  a  little  caue,  where 
thrusting  in  his  head  more  bolde  then  wise,  hee  espyed  an  olde  man 
cladde  all  in  gray,  with  a  head  as  white  as  Alablaster,  his  hoarie 
beard  hanging  downe  well  neere  to  his  knees,  with  him  no  earthly 
creature,  sauing  onelye  a  Mouse  sleeping  in  a  Cattes  eare.  Ouer  15 
the  fyre  this  good  olde  man  satte,  leaning  his  head  to  looke  into 
a  little  earthen  vessell  which  stoode  by  him. 

Callimachus  delyghted  more  then  abashed  at  this  straunge  sight, 
thought  to  see  the  manner  of  his  hoste,  before  he  would  be  his 
guest.  20 

This  olde  manne  immediatelye  tooke  out  of  his  potte  certayne 
rootes,  on  the  which  hee  fedde  hungerlye,  hauing  no  other  drinke 
then  fayre  water.  But  that  which  was  moste  of  all  to  bee  considered 
and  noted,  the  Mouse  and  the  Catte  fell  to  their  victualles,  beeing 
such  reliques  as  the  olde  manne  had  left,  yea  and  that  so  louinglye,  25 
as  one  wotilde  haue  thought  them  both  married,  Judging  the  Mouse 
to  be  verye  wilde,  or  the  Cat  very  tame. 

Callimachus  coulde  not  refrayne  laughter  to  beholde  the  solempne 
feaste,  at  the  voyce  where-of  the  olde  manne  arose,  and  demaunded 
who  was  there :    vnto  whome  Callimachus  aunswered :   Father,  one  3° 
that  wisheth  thee  both  greater  cheere  and  better  seruaunts :    vnto 
whome  hee  replyed  shoaring  vp  his  eyes,  by  yis  sonne,  I  accompt 
the   cheere   good,   which  maintayneth  health,   and  the  seruauntes 
honest,  whome  I  finde  fay th full.     And  if  thou  neyther  thinke  scorne 
of  my  company  nor  my  Cell,  enter  and  welcome :  the  which  offer  35 
Callimachus  accepted  with  great  thankes,  who  thought  his  lodging 
would  be  better  then  his  supper. 

The   next  morning  the   olde   manne   being   very    inquisitiue   of 

7  grisping  so  all  8  was  thus]  thus  lay  E  rest  32  shoaring  so  all 

yis  sonne]  lis  sonne  MAB :  lis  son  E  rest     Qy  ?  by  Isis,  son  or  by  Isis(')  son 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  21 


Callimachus  what  he  was,  wher  he  dwelt,  and  whether  he 
Callimachus  discoursed  with  him  in  perticulers,  as  before,  touching 
his  Fathers  death  and  despite,  against  whome  hee  vttered  so  many 
bytter  and  burning  wordes,  as  the  olde  Hermittes  eares  gloed  to 
5  heare  them,  and  my  tonge  would  blyster  if  I  should  vtter  them. 
More-ouer  he  added  that  he  was  determined  to  seeke  aduentures 
in  straunge  lands,  and  either  to  fetch  the  golden  fleece  by  trauaile, 
or  susteine  the  force  of  Fortune  by  his  owne  wilfull  follye. 

Now  PhilautuS)  thou  shalt  vnderstand  that  this  olde  Hermitte, 

10  whiche  was  named  also  Cassander,  was  Brother  to  Callimachus 
Father,  and  Uncle  to  Callimachus,  vnto  whom  Cassander  had  before 
his  death  conueyed  the  summe  of  tenne  thousand  poundes,  to  the 
vse  of  his  sonne  in  his  most  extremitie  and  necessitie,  knowing 
or  at  the  least  foreseeing  that  his  young  colt  will  neuer  beare  a  white 

15  mouth  with-out  a  harde  bridle.  Also  hee  assured  him-selfe  that  his 
brother  so  little  tendred  money  being  a  professed  Hermitte,  and 
so  much  tendred  and  esteemed  Callimachus^  beeing  his  neere  kins 
man,  as  he  put  no  doubt  to  stand  to  his  deuotion. 

Cassander  this  olde  Hermitte  hearing  it  to  bee  Callimachus  his 

20  Nephewe,  and  vnderstanding  of  the  death  of  his  brother,  dissembled 
his  griefe  although  he  were  glad  to  see  thinges  happen  out  so  well, 
and  determined  with  him-selfe  to  make  a  Cosinne  of  his  young 
Neuew,  vntyll  hee  had  bought  witte  with  the  price  of  woe,  wherefore 
he  assayed  first  to  staye  him  from  trauell,  and  to  take  some  other 

25  course,  more  fitte  for  a  Gentleman.  And  to  the  intent  sayde  hee, 
that  I  may  perswade  thee,  giue  eare  vnto  my  tale,  and  this  is  the 
tale  Philautus  that  I  promised  thee,  which  the(-JIermitte  sitting  nowe 
in  the  Sunne,  began  to  vtter  to  Callimachus. 

~\li  7  Hen  I  was  younge  as  thou  nowe  art,  I  neuer  thought  to  bee 

30  olde,  as  nowe  I  am,  which  caused  lustye  bloud  to  attempte 

those  thinges  in  youth,  which  akyng  boanes  haue  repented  in  age. 

I  hadde  one  onely  Brother,  which  also  bore  my  name,  being  both 

borne  at  one  tyme  as  twinnes,  but  so  farre  dysagreeing  in  nature, 

as  hadde  not  as  well  the  respecte  of  the  iust  tyme,  as  also  the 

35  certeyntie  and  assuraunce  of  our  Mothers  fidelitie,  perswaded  the 

worlde  wee  hadde  one  Father,  it  would  verye  hardelye  haue  beene 

i  whither  H  rest         12  pound  E  rest         13  most]  greatest  Erest         14  would 
F  rest  22  Cosin  AB  :    cosin  EF\    cosen  H  1617,  1630-36:    Cozen  1623 

23  his  before  woe  G          .  26  vnto]  to  ABE  rest  32  mame  M 


22  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

thought,  that  such  contrarye  dispositions  coulde  well  haue  beene 
bredde  in  one  wombe,  or  issued  from  ones  loynes.  Yet  as  out  of 
one  and  the  selfe-same  roote,  commeth  as  well  the  wilde  Olyue, 
as  the  sweete,  and  as  the  Palme  Persian  Fig  tree,  beareth  as  well 
Apples,  as  Figs :  so  our  mother  thrust  into  the  world  at  one  time,  5 
the  blossome  of  grauitie  and  lyghtnesse. 

We  were  nurssed  both  with  one  teate,  where  my  brother  sucked 
a  desire  of  thrift,  and  I  of  theft :  which  euidently  sheweth  that  as 
the  breath  of  the  Lyon,  engendreth  aswell  the  Serpent,  as  the  Ant : 
and  as  the  selfe  same  deaw  forceth  the  Earth  to  yeelde  both  the  10 
Darnell  and  Wheat :  or  as  the  Easterly  winde  maketh  the  blossomes 
to  blast,  and  the  buddes  to  blowe :  so  one  wombe  nourished  con 
trary  wits,  and  one  milke  diuers  manners,  which  argueth  something 
in  Nature  I  know  not  what,  to  be  meruaylous,  I  dare  not  saye 
monstrous.  15 

As  we  grew  olde  in  yeares,  so  began  we  to  be  more  opposit  in 
opinions :  He  graue,  I  gamesome :  he  studious,  I  carelesse  :  he 
without  mirth,  and  I  without  modestie. 

And  verely,  had  we  resembled  each  other,  as  little  in  fauour, 
as  we  did  in  fancie,  or  disagreed  as  much  in  shape  as  we  did  in  20 
sence :   I  know  not  what  Dedalus  would  haue  made  a  Laborynth 
for  such   Monsters,   or  what  Appelks  could  haue  couloured  such 
Misshapes. 

But  as  the  Painter  Tamantes  could  no  way  expresse  the  griefe 
of  Agamemnon  who  saw  his  onely  daughter  sacraficed,  and  therefore  25 
drew  him  with  a  vale  ouer  his  face,  whereby  one  might  better  con- 
ceiue  his  anguish,  th^n  he  colour  it :  so  some  Tamantes  seeing  vs, 
would  be  constrained  with  a  Curtaine  to  shadow  that  deformitie, 
which  no  counterfait  could  portraie  lyuely.    But  nature  recompensed 
ye  dissimilitude  of  mindes,  with  a  Sympathy  of  bodies,  for  we  were  30 
in  all  parts  one  so  like  the  other,  that  it  was  hard  to  distinguish 
either   in    speach,   countenaunce,   or  height,   one  from    the  other : 
sauing  that  either  caried  the  motion  of  his  mind,  in  his  manners, 
and  that  the  affects  of  the  hart  were  bewrayed  by  the  eyes,  which 
made  vs  knowen  manifestly.     For  as  two  Rubies  be  they  neuer  35 
so  lyke,   yet  if  they  be  brought  together  one  staineth  the  other, 

8  thrift  GE  rest :  thirst  MAB  1 1   as  om.  E  12  nourisheth  ABE  rest 

21  not  what]  that  A  23  mishapes  B  1630-36  :  mishaps  ^-1623  24 

Tamantes  so  all,  for  Timanthes  in  before  no  E  rest  25  sacrificed  A  rest 

29  protraie  ABE  30  dissimilitude]  similitude  ABG 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  23 

so  we  beeing  close  one  to  the  other,  it  was  easely  to  imagine  by 
the  face  whose  vertue  deserued  most  fauour,  for  I  could  neuer  see 
my  brother,  but  his  grauitie  would  make  me  blush,  which  caused 
me  to  resemble  the  Thrushe,  who  neuer  singeth  in  the  companye 
5  of  the  Nightingale.  For  whilest  my  Brother  was  in  presence,  I  durst 
not  presume  to  talke,  least  his  wisedome  might  haue  checked  my 
wildnesse :  Much  lyke  to  Roscius,  who  was  alwayes  dumbe,  when 
he  dined  with  Cato.  Our  Father  being  on  his  death-bed,  knew  not 
whom  to  ordein  his  heire,  being  both  of  one  age :  to  make  both, 

Jo  woulde  breede  as  he  thought,  vnquiet :  to  appoint  but  one,  were 
as  he  knew  injury:*  to  deuide  equally,  were  to  haue  no  heire:  to 
impart  more  to  one  then  to  ye  other,  were  partiality :  to  disherite 
me  of  his  wealth,  whom  Nature  had  disherited  of  wisedome,  were 
against  reason  :  to  barre  my  brother  from  golde,  whome  God  seemed 

15  to  endue  with  grace,  were  flatte  impietie :  yet  calling  vs  before  him, 
he  vttered  with  watrie  eyes,  these  words. 

^\1  7Ere  it  not  my  sonnes,  that  Nature  worketh  more  in  me,  then 

Justice,  I  should  disherite  the  one  of  you,  who  promiseth 

by  his  folly  to  spende  all,  &  leaue  the  other  nothing,  whose  wisedome 

20  seemeth  to  purchase  all  things.  But  I  well  know,  that  a  bitter  roote 
is  amended  with  a  sweete  graft,  and  crooked  trees  proue  good  Cam- 
mocks,  and  wilde  Grapes,  make  pleasaunt  Wine.  Which  perswadeth 
me,  that  thou  (poynting  to  me)  wilt  in  age  repent  thy  youthly  affec 
tions,  &  learne  to  dye  as  well,  as  thou  hast  lyued  wantonly.  As 

25  for  thee  (laying  his  hande  on  my  brothers  head)  although  I  see  more 
then  commonly  in  any  of  thy  yeares,  yet  knowing  that  those  that 
giue  themselues  to  be  bookish,  are  oftentimes  so  blockish,  that  they 
forget  thrift  (where-by  the  olde  Saw  is  verified,  that  the  greatest 
Clearkes  are  not  the  wisest  men,  who  digge  still  at  the  roote,  while 

30  others  gather  the  fruite)  I  am  determined  to  helpe  thee  forward, 
least  hauing  nothing  thou  desire  nothing,  and  so  be  accompted  as 
no  body.  He  hauing  thus  said,  called  for  two  bags,  the  one  ful 
of  gold,  the  other  stuft  with  writings,  &  casting  them  both  vnto  us, 
sayd  this  :  There  my  sonnes  deuide  all  as  betweene  you  it  shal  be 

35  best  agreed,  and  so  rendred  vp  his  ghoast,  with  a  pitifull  grone. 

My  brother  as  one  that  knew  his  owne  good,  &  my  humour,  gaue 
me  leaue  to  chuse  which  bag  I  lyked,  at  the  choice  I  made  no  great 
curiositie,  but  snatching  the  gold,  let  go  ye  writings,  which  wer  as 

i  easie  F  rest  1 1  equalitie  E  1 2  the  before  one  F  rest 


24  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

I  knew  Euidences  for  land,  oblygations  for  debt,  too  heauy  for  me 
to  cary,  who  determined  (as  now  thou  doest  Callimachus)  to  seeke 
aduetures.  My  pursse  now  swelling  w*  a  timpany,  I  thought  to 
serch  al  coutries  for  a  remedy,  &  set  many  golde  Angels  into  euery 
quarter  of  ye  world,  which  neuer  brought  newes  again  to  their  master,  5 
being  either  soared  into  heaue,  wher  I  cannot  fetch  the,  or  sunke 
into  Hell  for  pride,  wher  I  meane  not  to  follow  the.  This  life 
I  continued  ye  space  of  .xiiij.  yeares,  vntil  I  had  visited  &  viewed 
euery  coutry,  &  was  a  strager  in  mine  owne :  but  finding  no  treasure 
to  be  wrapped  in  trauell,  I  returned  wt  more  vices,  then  I  went  forth  10 
w*  pence,  yet  wfc  so  good  a  grace,  as  I  was  able  to  sinne  both  by 
experience  and  authoritie,  vse  framing  me  to  the  one,  and  the 
Countryes  to  the  other.  There  was  no  cryme  so  barbarous,  no 
murther  so  bloudy,  no  oath  so  blasphemous,  no  vice  so  execrable, 
but  yfc  I  could  readely  recite  where  I  learned  it,  and  by  roate  repeate  15 
the  peculiar  crime,  of  euerye  perticular  Country,  Citie,  Towne, 
Village,  House,  or  Chamber. 

If  I  met  with  one  of  Creete,  I  was  ready  to  lye  with  him  for  the 
whetstone.       If  with    a    Grecian,    I    could   dissemble   with  Synon. 
I  could  court  it  with  the  Italian,  carous  it  with  the  Dutch-man.  20 
I  learned  al  kinde  of  poysons,  yea,  and  such  as  were  fit  for  the 
Popes  holynesse.     In  Aegypt  I  worshipped  their  spotted  God,  at 
Memphis.      In   Turkey,   their  Mahomet.      In  Rome,  their  Masse : 
which  gaue   me  not   onely  a  remission   for  my  sinnes   past  with 
out  penaunce,  but  also  a  commission  to  sinne  euer  after  with-out  25 
preiudice. 

There  was  no  fashion  but  fitted  my  backe,  no  fancie  but  serued 
my  tourne :  But  now  my  Barrell  of  golde,  which  Pride  set  a  broche, 
Loue  began  to  set  a  tilte,  which  in  short  time  ranne  so  on  the  lees, 
that  the  Diuell  daunced  in  the  bottome,  where  he  found  neuer  30 
a  crosse.  It  were  too  tedious  to  vtter  my  whole  lyfe  in  this  my 
Pilgrimage,  the  remembraunce  where-off,  doth  nothing  but  double 
my  repentaunce. 

Then  to  grow  to  an  ende,  I  seeing  my  money  wasted,  my  apparell 
worne,  my  minde  infected  with  as  many  vices,  as  my  body  with  35 
diseases,  and  my  bodye  with  more  maladyes,  then  the  Leopard  hath 
markes,  hauing  nothing  for  amends  but  a  few  broken  languages, 

16  peculiar]  perticular  .£  rest  19  Lynon  E  20  it2  om,  E  rest  21 

kindes  E  rest  fit  om.  ABE  rest  23  their1]  }e  E  rest  24  me  om. 

E  rest  36  hath]  with  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  25 

which  serued  me  in  no  more  steede,  then  to  see  one  meat  serued 
in  diuers  dishes :  I  thought  it  best  to  retourne  into  my  natiue  soyle, 
where  finding  my  brother  as  farre  now  to  exceede  others  in  wealth, 
as  hee  did  me  in  wit,  and  that  he  had  gayned  more  by  thrift,  then 

5  I  could  spende  by  pride,  I  neither  enuyed  his  estate,  nor  pityed 
mine  owne  :  but  opened  the  whole  course  of  my  youth,  not  thinking 
there- by  to  recouer  that  of  him  by  request,  which  I  had  lost  my  selfe 
by  riot,  for  casting  in  my  minde  the  miserie  of  the  world  with  the 
mischiefes  of  my  life,  I  determined  from  that  vnto  my  Hues  end, 

10  to  lead  a  solitary  life  in  this  caue,  which  I  haue  don  the  tearm  of 
ful  forty  winters,  from  whence,  neither  the  earnest  entreatie  of  my 
Brother,  nor  the  vaine  pleasures  of  the  world  could  draw  me,  neyther 
shall  any  thing  but  death. 

Then  my  good  Callimachus,  recorde  with  thy  selfe  the  incon- 

15  ueniences  that  come  by  trauailing,  when  on  the  Seas  euery  storme 
shall  threaten  death,  and  euery  calme  a  daunger,  when  eyther  thou 
shalt  be  compelled  to  boord  others  as  a  pyrate,  or  feare  to  be 
boorded  of  others  as  a  Marchaunt :  when  at  all  times  thou  must 
haue  the  back  of  an  Asse  to  beare  all,  and  the  snowt  of  a  swine  to 

20  say  nothing,  thy  hand  on  thy  cap  to  shew  reuerence  to  euery  rascall, 
thy  purse  open  to  be  prodigall  to  euery  Boore,  thy  sworde  in  thy  sheath, 
not  once  dang  either  to  strick  or  ward,  which  maketh  me  think  that 
trauailers  are  not  onely  framed  not  to  commit  iniuries,  but  also  to  take 
them.  Learne  Callimachus  of  the  Byrde  Acanthis,  who  being  bredde 

25  in  the  thistles  will  liue  in  the  thistles,  and  of  the  Grashopper,  who  being 
sproung  of  the  grasse,  will  rather  dye  then  depart  from  the  grasse. 
I  am  of  this  minde  with  Homer,  that  as  the  Snayle  that  crept  out 
of  hir  shell  was  turned  eftsoones  into  a  Toad,  and  therby  was  forced 
to  make  a  stoole  to  sit  on,  disdaining  hir  own  house  :  so  the  Trauailer 

30  that  stragleth  from  his  own  countrey,  is  in  short  tyme  transformed 
into  so  monstrous  a  shape,  that  hee  is  faine  to  alter  his  mansion  with 
his  manners,  and  to  liue  where  he  canne,  not  where  he  would.  What 
did  Vlysses  wish  in  the  middest  of  his  trauailing,  but  onely  to  see 
the  smoake  of  his  owne  Chymnie  ?  Did  not  all  the  Romaines  saye 

35  that  he  that  wandered  did  nothing  els  but  heap  sorowes  to  his  friends, 
and  shame  to  himself,  and  resembled  those  that  seeking  to  light 
a  Lynke,  quenched  a  Lamp,  imitating  the  barbarous  Gothes,  who 


4  me  om.  E  rest          5  I2  om.  G  rest          estate]  state  E          8  miseries  ABG 
20  re-reuerence  M  33  all  before  his  E  rest 


26  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

thought  the  rootes  in  Alexandria,  sweeter  then  ye  resons  in  Barbary  : 
But  he  that  leaueth  his  own  home,  is  worthy  no  home.  In  my 
opinion  it  is  a  homely  kinde  of  dealing  to  preferre  the  curtesie  of 
those  he  neuer  knew,  before  the  honesty  of  those  among  whom  he 
was  born :  he  that  cannot  Hue  with  a  grot  in  his  own  country,  shal  5 
neuer  enioy  a  penny  in  an  other  nation.  Litle  dost  thou  know 
Callimachus  with  what  wood  trauailers  are  warmed,  who  must  sleepe 
with  their  eies  open,  least  they  be  slain  in  their  beds,  &  wake  with 
their  eyes  shut,  least  they  be  suspected  by  their  lookes,  and  eat  with 
their  mouths  close,  least  they  be  poysoned  with  theyr  meates.  Where  10 
if  they  wax  wealthy,  they  shall  be  enuied,  not  loued  :  If  poore 
punished,  not  pittied :  If  wise,  accounted  espials  :  If  foolish,  made 
drudges.  Euery  Gentle-man  will  be  their  peere  though  they  be 
noble,  and  euery  pesaunt  their  Lord  if  they  be  gentle.  Hee  there 
fore  that  leaueth  his  own  house  to  seeke  aduentures,  is  like  the  15 
Quaile  that  forsaketh  the  Malowes  to  eat  Hemlock,  or  the  Fly  that 
shunneth  the  Rose,  to  light  in  a  cowshard.  No  Callimachus,  there 
wil  no  Mosse  sticke  to  the  stone  of  Sisiphus,  no  grasse  hang  on 
heeles  of  Mercury,  no  butter  cleaue  on  ye  bread  of  a  trauailer. 
For  as  the  Egle  at  euery  flight  looseth  a  fether,  which  maketh  hir  20 
bald  in  hir  age  :  so  the  trauailer  in  euery  country  looseth  some  fleece, 
which  maketh  him  a  begger  in  his  youth,  buying  that  with  a  pound, 
which  he  cannot  sell  againe  for  a  penny,  repentaunce.  But  why  go 
I  about  to  disswade  thee  from  that,  which  I  my  self  followed,  or  to 
perswade  thee  to  that  which  thou  thy  selfe  flyest?  My  gray  haires  25 
are  like  vnto  a  white  frost,  thy  read  bloud  not  vnlike  vnto  a  hot  fyre : 
so  that  it  cannot  be  yfc  either  thou  shouldest  follow  my  counsell, 
or  I  allow  thy  conditions  :  such  a  quarrel  hath  ther  alwaies  bin 
betwene  the  graue  &  the  cradle,  that  he  y*  is  young  thinketh  the 
olde  man  fond,  and  the  olde  knoweth  the  young  man  to  be  a  foole.  30 
But  Callimachus,  for  the  towardnes  I  see  in  thee,  I  must  needs  loue 
thee,  &  for  thy  frowardnes,  of  force  counsel  thee :  &  do  in  ye  same 
sort,  as  Phoebus  did  yfc  daring  boy  Phaton.  Thou  goest  about 
a  great  matter,  neither  fit  for  thy  yeares  being  very  young,  nor  thy 
profit  being  left  so  poore,  yu  desirest  y*  which  thou  knowest  not,  35 
neither  can  any  performe  yfc  which  thou  seemest  to  promise.  If  thou 

i  Raisons  ABG  1623  :  Reisons  E  rest  2  But  ...  no  home  At  only  5 

groate  A  rest  9  by]  in  E  rest         H  they  shall]  thou  shalt  MAB  13 

their]  thy  MAB  14  they]  he  G  19  the  before  heeles  A  rest  22  by  before 
buying  E  rest  26  redde  GEF\  red  H  rest  a2  om.  E  rest  33  y*  M\  the 
A  rest  Thseton  AB :  Phaeton  E  rest  35  yu]  thou  AB :  that  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  27 

coiiet  to  trauaile  straunge  countries,  search  the  Maps,  there  shalt 
thou  see  much,  with  great  pleasure  &  smal  paines,  if  to  be  conuersat 
in  al  courts,  read  histories,  where  thou  shalt  vnderstand  both  what 
the  men  haue  ben,  &  what  their  maners  are,  &  me  thinketh  ther 
5  must  be  much  delight,  whe  ther  is  no  dauger.  And  if  thou  haue 
any  care  either  of  ye  greene  bud  which  springeth  out  of  the  tender 
stalke,  or  the  timely  fruite  which  is  to  grow  of  so  good  a  roote,  seeke 
not  to  kill  the  one,  or  hasten  ye  other :  but  let  time  so  work  that 
grafts  may  be  gathered  off  the  tree,  rather  the  sticks  to  burn.  And 

10  so  I  leaue  thee,  not  to  thy  self,  but  to  him  y*  made  thee,  who  guid 
thee  with  his  grace,  whether  thou  go  as  thou  wouldest,  or  tarry  at 
home  as  thou  shouldest. 

Callimachus  obstinate  in  his  fond  conceit,  was  so  far  from  being 
pers waded  by  this  old  Hermit,  y*  he  rather  made  it  a  greater  occasion 

15  of  his  pilgrimage,  &  with  an  answer  betwen  scorning  and  resoning, 
he  replied  thus. 

Father  or  friend  (I  know  not  verye  well  howe  to  tearme  you) 
I  haue  beene  as  attentiue  to  heare  your  good '  discourse,  as  you 
were  willing  to  vtter  it :  yet  mee  thinketh  you  deale  maruailouslye 

20  with  youth,  in  seeking  by  sage  counsell  to  put  graye  hayres  on  their 
chins,  before  nature  hath  giuen  them  almost  any  hayres  on  their 
heades  :  where-in  you  haue  gone  so  farre,  that  in  my  opinion  your 
labour  had  bene  better  spent  in  trauailing  where  you  haue  not  lyued, 
then  in  talking  wher  you  cannot  be  beleeued.  You  haue  bene 

25  a  Trauailer  and  tasted  nothing  but  sowre,  therefore  who-soeuer 
trauaileth,  shall  eate  of  the  same  sauce :  an  Argument  it  is,  that 
your  fortune  was  ill,  not  that  others  should  be  as  bad,  and  a  warning 
to  make  you  wise,  not  a  warning  to  proue  others  vnfortunate.  Shal 
a  souldier  that  hath  receiued  a  skar  in  the  battaile,  giue  out  that 

30  all  warriours  shall  be  maymed  ?  Or  the  Marchaunt  that  hath  lost 
by  the  Seas,  be  a  cause  that  no  other  should  venture,  or  a  trauailer 
that  hath  sustained  harm  by  sinister  fortune,  or  bene  infected  by 
his  own  folly,  disswade  al  Gentlemen  to  rest  at  their  own  home  till 
they  come  to  their  long  home  ?  Why  then  let  al  men  abstaine  'from 

35  wine,  bicause  it  made  Alexander  tipsie,  let  no  ma  loue  a  woman  for 
yt  Tarquine  was  banished,  let  not  a  wise  man  play  at  al,  for  yfc 
a  foole  hath  lost  al :  which  in  my  minde  would  make  such  medly, 
that  wee  should  bee  enforced  to  leaue  things  that  were  best,  for 

8  not  om.  F  rest  9  ofT]of.#:  on  G  rest  u  go]  goest  E  rest  37 
medly]  melodic  E  rest 


28  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

feare  they  may  bee  badde,  and  that  were  as  fond  as  not  to  cut  ones 
meate  with  that  knife  y*  an  other  hath  cut  his  finger.  Things  are 
not  to  be  iudged  by  the  euent,  but  by  the  ende,  nor  trauailing  to  be 
condemned  by  yours  or  manies  vnluckie  successe,  but  by  the  common 
and  most  approued  wisdome  of  those  that  canne  better  shew  what  5 
it  is  then  I,  and  will  better  speake  of  it  then  you  doe. 

Where  you  alledge  Vlisses  that  he  desired  nothing  so  much,  as  to 
see  the  smoake  of  Ithaca^  it  was  not  bicause  he  loued  not  to  trauaile, 
but  yfc  he  loged  to  see  his  wife  after  his  trauaile :  and  greater  com 
mendation  brought  his  trauail  to  him,  the  his  wit :  the  one  taught  but  10 
to  speake,  the  other  what  he  should  speake.  And  in  this  you  tourne 
the  poynt  of  your  owne  bodkin  into  your  owne  bosome.  Vlisses  was 
no  lesse  esteemed  for  knowledge  he  had  of  other  countryes,  then  for 
ye  reuenewes  he  had  in  his  own,  &  wher  in  ye  ende,  you  seeme  to 
refer  me  to  yt  viewing  of  Maps,  I  was  neuer  of  that  minde  to  make  1 5 
my  ship  in  a  Painters  shop,  which  is  lyke  those,  who  haue  great 
skill  in  a  wodden  Globe,  but  neuer  behold  the  Skie.  And  he  that 
seeketh  to  bee  a  cunning  trauailer  by  seeing  the  Mappes,  and  an 
expert  Astronomer,  by  turning  the  Globe,  may  be  an  Apprentice  for 
AppelleS)  but  no  Page  for  Vlisses.  20 

Another  reason  you  bring,  that  trauailing  is  costly  :  I  speake  for 
my  selfe,  He  that  hath  lyttle  to  spende,  hath  not  much  to  lose,  and 
he  that  hath  nothing  in  his  owne  countrey,  can-not  haue  lesse  in  any. 

Would  you  haue  me  spend  the  floure  of  my  youth,  as  you  doe  the 
withered  rase  of  your  age  ?  can  ye  faire  bloud  of  youth  creepe  into  25 
the  ground  as  it  were  frost  bitten?  No  Father  Hermit,  I  am  of 
Alexanders  minde,  if  there  were  as  many  worlds,  as  there  be  cities 
in  the  world,  I  would  neuer  leaue  vntill  I  had  seene  all  the  worlds, 
and  each  citie  in  euerie  world.  Therefore  to  be  short,  nothing  shall 
alter  my  minde,  neither  penny  nor  Pater  noster.  3° 

This  olde  man  seeing  him  so  resolute,  resolued  to  let  him  depart, 
and  gaue  him  this  Fare-well. 

good  sonne  though  thou  wilt  not  suffer  mee  to  perswade 
thee,  yet  shalt  thou  not  let  mee  to  pittie  thee,  yea  and  to 
pray  for  thee  :   but  the  tyme  will  come  when  comming  home  by  35 
weeping  crosse,  thou  shalt  confesse,  that  it  is  better  to  be  at  home 

i  they]  the  A  15  y4]  the  A  rest  that]  the  F  rest  16  who] 

that  E  rest          19  an  om.  H rest         22  a  before  little  H  rest         25  race  E  rest 
bloud]  bud  Frest  32  this]  his  B 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  29 

in  the  caue  of  an  Hermit  then  abroad  in  the  court  of  an  Emperour, 
and  that  a  crust  with  quietnesse,  shall  be  better  then  Quayles  with 
vnrest.  And  to  the  ende  thou  maist  proue  my  sayings  as  true,  as 
I  know  thy  selfe  to  bee  wilfull,  take  the  paines  to  retourne  by  this 
5  poore  Cel,  where  thy  fare  shall  be  amended,  if  thou  amende  thy 
fault,  and  so  farewell. 

Callimachus  courteously  tooke  his  leaue,  and  went  his  waye  :  but 
we  will  not  leaue  him  till  we  haue  him  againe,  at  the  Cell,  where  we 
found  him. 

10  l\f  ®W  Philautus  and  Gentlemen  all,  suppose  that  Callimachus  had 

as  il  fortune,  as  euer  had  any,  his  minde  infected  with  his 

body,  his  time  cosumed  w*  his  treasure  :  nothing  won,  but  what  he 

canot  loose  though  he  would,  Miserie.     You  must  imagine  (bicause 

it  were  too  long  to  tell  all  his  iourney)  that  he  was  Sea  sicke,  (as  thou 

15  beginnest  to  be  Philautus]  that  he  hardly  escaped  death,  that  he 
endured  hunger  and  colde,  heate  with-out  drinke,  that  he  was 
entangled  with  women,  entrapped,  deceiued,  that  euery  stoole  he 
sate  on,  was  penniles  bench,  that  his  robes  were  rags,  that  he  had 
as  much  neede  of  a  Chirurgian  as  a  Phisition,  and  that  thus  he  came 

20  home  to  the  Cell,  and  with  shame  and  sorrow,  began  to  say  as 
followeth. 

IFinde  too   late   yet  at  length  that  in  age  there  is  a  certeine 
foresight,  which  youth  can-not  search,   and  a  kinde  of  experi 
ence,  vnto  which  vnripened  yeares  cannot  come  :  so  that  I  must  of 

25  necessitie  confesse,  that  youth  neuer  raineth  wel,  but  when  age 
holdeth  the  bridell,  you  see  (my  good  father)  what  I  would  say  by 
outward  shew,  and  I  neede  not  tell  what  I  haue  tryed,  bicause 
before  you  tolde  me  I  should  finde  it :  this  I  say,  that  whatsoeuer 
miserie  happened  either  to  you  or  any,  the  same  hath  chaunced  to 

30  me  alone.     I  can  say  no  more,  I  haue  tryed  no  lesse. 

The  olde  Hermit  glad  to  see  this  ragged  Colte  retourned,  yet 
grieued  to  see  him  so  tormented,  thought  not  to  adde  sower  words 
to  augment  his  sharp  woes,  but  taking  him  by  the  hande,  and  sitting 
down,  began  after  a  solempn  manner,  from  the  beginning  to  ye  ende, 

35  to  discourse  with  him  of  his  fathers  affaires,  euen  after  the  sort  that 
before  I  rehearsed,  and  delyuered  vnto  him  his  money,  thinking 

4  by]  to  GE  rest  12  what]  that  E  rest  23  si  before  a  M-E  25 

raigneth  E  1617-31:    reigneth  ,FIfi6$6  27  what]  before  Ernest  30 

alone  so  all  36  I  before  E  rest 


3o  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

now  that  miserie  woulde  make  him  thriftie,  desiring  also,  that  aswell 
for  the  honour  of  his  Fathers  house,  as  his  owne  credite,  hee  would 
retourne  againe  to  the  Islande,  and  there  be  a  comfort  to  his  friends, 
and  a  reliefe  to  his  poore  neighbours,  which  woulde  be  more  worth 
then  his  wealth,  and  the  fulfilling  of  his  Fathers  last  Will.  5 

Callimachus  not  a  little  pleased  with  this  tale,  &  I  thinke  not  much 
displeased  with  the  golde,  gaue  such  thankes,  as  to  such  a  friend 
appertained,  and  following  the  counsel  of  his  vnckle,  which  euer 
after  he  obeyed  as  a  comaundement,  he  came  to  his  owne  house, 
liued  long  with  great  wealth,  and  as  much  worship  as  any  one  in  10 
Scyrum,  and  whether  he  be  now  lyuing,  I  know  not,  but  whether  he 
be  or  no,  it  skilleth  not. 

Now  Philautus,   I  haue  tolde  this  tale,  to  this  ende,   not  that 
I  thinke  trauailing  to  be  ill  if  it  be  vsed  wel,  but  that  such  aduice 
be  taken,  y*  the  horse  carry  not  his  own  bridle,  nor  youth  rule  him-  15 
self  in  his  own  coceits.     Besides  yt,  such  places  are  to  be  chosen, 
wher-in  to  inhabit  as  are  as  commendable  for  vertue,  as  buildings  : 
where  the  maners  are  more  to  be  marked,  then  ye  men  scene.     And 
this  was  my  whole  drift,  either  neuer  to  trauaile,  or  so  to  trauaile,  as 
although  ye  pursse  be  weakened,  ye  minde  may  be  strengthened.  20 
For  not  he  y*  hath  scene  most  countries  is  most  to  be  esteemed, 
but  he  that  learned  best  conditions  :  for  not  so  much  are  ye  scitua- 
tion  of  the  places  to  be  noted,  as  the  vertues  of  the  persons.     Which 
is  contrarie  to  the  common  practise  of  our  trauailers,  who  goe  either 
for  gaine,  and  returne  with-out  knowledge,  or  for  fashion  sake,  and  25 
come    home  with-out  pietie  :    Whose  estates   are  as  much   to   be 
lamented,  as  their  follyes  are  to  be  laughed  at. 

This  causeth  youth,  to  spende  their  golden  time,  with-out  either 
praise  or  profit,  pretending  a  desire  of  learning,  when  they  onely 
followe  loytering.     But  I  hope  our  trauell  shal  be  better  employed,  30 
seeing  vertue  is  the  white  we  shoote  at,  not  vanitie  :  neither  the 
English  tongue  (which  as  I  haue  heard  is  almost  barbarous)  but  the 
English  manners,  which  as  I  thinke  are  most  precise.     And  to  thee 
Philautus  I  begin  to  addresse  my  speach,  hauing  made  an  end  of 
mine  hermits  tale,  and  if  these  few  precepts  I  giue  thee  be  obserued,  35 
then  doubt  not  but  we  both  shall  learne  that  we  best  lyke.     And 
these  they  are. 

5  the]  a  E  rest  n  he2]  I  A  12  no]  not  E  rest  17  as1]  that  E  rest 
19  as]  that  E  rest  22  hath  before  learned  1636  28  to  om.  ^-1623  32 
as  .  .  .  is]  is  as  ...  heard  E-H\  is  cm.  1617-36  35  my  B  rest 


A 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  31 

T  thy  comming  into  England  be  not  too  inquisitiue  of  newes, 
neither  curious  in  matters  of  State,  in  assemblies   aske   no 
questions,  either  concerning  manners  or  men.     Be  not  lauish  of  thy 
tongue,   either  in  causes  of  weight,  least  thou  shew  thy  selfe  an 
5  espyall,  or  in  wanton  talke,  least  thou  proue  thy  selfe  a  foole. 

It  is  the  Nature  of  that  country  to  sift  straungers  :  euery  one  that 
shaketh  thee  by  the  hand,  is  not  ioyned  to  thee  in  heart.  They 
thinke  Italians  wanton,  &  Grecians  subtill,  they  will  trust  neither 
they  are  so  incredulous :  but  vndermine  both,  they  are  so  wise.  Be 

10  not  quarrellous  for  euery  lyght  occasion  :  they  are  impatient  in  their 
anger  of  any  equal,  readie  to  reuenge  an  iniury,  but  neuer  wont  to 
prefer  any  :  they  neuer  fight  without  prouoking,  &  once  prouoked 
they  neuer  cease.  Beware  thou  fal  not  into  ye  snares  of  loue,  ye 
women  there  are  wise,  the  men  craftie :  they  will  gather  loue  by  thy 

15  lookes,  and  picke  thy  minde  out  of  thy  hands.  It  shal  be  there 
better  to  heare  what  they  say,  the  to  speak  what  thou  thinkest :  They 
haue  long  ears  and  short  tongues,  quicke  to  heare,  and  slow  to  vtter, 
broad  eyes,  and  light  fingers,  ready  to  espy  and  apt  to  stricke. 
Euery  straunger  is  a  marke  for  them  to  shoote  at:  yet  this  must 

20  I  say  which  in  no  country  I  can  tell  the  like,  that  it  is  as  seldome  to 
see  a  straunger  abused  there,  as  it  is  rare  to  see  anye  well  vsed  els 
where :  yet  presume  not  too  much  of  the  curtesies  of  those,  for  they 
differ  in  natures,  some  are  hot,  some  cold,  one  simple,  and  other 
wilie,  yet  if  thou  vse  few  words  and  fayre  speaches,  thou  shalt 

25  commaund  any  thing  thou  standest  in  neede  of. 

Touching  the  situation  of  the  soile  I  haue  read  in  my  studie, 
which  I  partly  beleeue  (hauing  no  worse  Author  then  Ccesar)  yet  at 
my  comming,  when  I  shal  conferre  the  thinges  I  see,  with  those 
I  haue  read,  I  will  iudge  accordingly.  And  this  haue  I  heard,  that 

30  the  inner  parte  of  Brittaine  is  inhabited  by  such  as  were  born  and 
bred  in  the  Isle,  and  the  Sea-choast  by  such  as  haue  passed  thether 
out  of  Belgick  to  search  booties  &  to  make  war.  The  country  is 
meruailouslye  replenished  with  people,  and  there  be  many  buildings 
almost  like  in  fashio  to  the  buildings  of  Gallia,  there  is  great  store 

35  of  cattell,  ye  coyn  they  vse  is  either  of  brasse  or  els  rings  of  Iron, 
sised  at  a  certain  weight  in  steede  of  money.  In  the  inner  parts  of 

2  in1]  of  F  rest  3  question  E  rest  too  before  lauish  E  rest  19 

this]  thus  .£-1623  22  those]  them  E  rest  23  nature  E  rest          and]  an 

A  rest  25  them  before  any  E  rest  29  thus  E-H  30  inward  H  rest 

32  boates  E  rest  35  elsj  also  E-H  36  sised  so  all 


32  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

the  Realme  groweth  tinne,  and  in  the  sea  coast  groweth  yron.  The 
brasse  y*  they  occupy  is  brought  in  from  beyond-sea.  The  ayre  is 
more  temperate  in  those  places  then  in  Fraunce,  and  the  colde  lesser. 
The  Island  is  in  fashion  three  cornered,  wher-of  one  side  is  toward 
Fraunce,  the  one  corner  of  this  side  which  is  in  Kent,  where  for  the  5 
most  part  Shippes  ariue  out  of  Fraunce,  is  in  the  East,  and  the  other 
nethermore,  is  towardes  the  South.  This  side  containeth  about  flue 
hundred  miles,  an  other  side  lyeth  toward  Spain  and  the  Sunne 
going  down,  on  the  which  side  is  Ireland,  lesse  then  Brittain  as  is 
supposed  by  the  one  halfe :  but  the  cut  betweene  them,  is  like  10 
the  distaunce  that  is  betweene  Fraunce  and  Brittaine. 

In  the  middest  of  this  course  is  an  Island  called  Man,  the  length 
of  this  side   is  (according  to  the  opinio   of  the  Inhabiters)  seuen 
hundred  miles.     The  third  side  is  northward,  &  against  it  lyeth  no 
land,    but   the  poynt  of  that  side  butteth    most    vppon    Germany.  15 
This   they  esteeme   to   be  eight   hundred  miles  long,   and  so  the 
circuit  of  the  whole  Island  is  two  thousad  miles.     Of  al  the  Inhabi 
tants   of  this   Isle,  the  Kentish  men  are  most  ciuilest,   the  which 
country  marcheth  altogether  vpon  the  sea,  &  differeth  not  greatly 
from  the  maner  of  France.     They  that  dwell  more  in  the  hart  of  the  20 
Realme  sow  corne,  but  Ikie  by  milk  and  flesh,  and  cloth  themselues 
in  lether.     All  the  Brittaines  <ioe  die  them-selues  with  woad,  which 
setteth  a  blewish  coulour  vpon  them,  and  it  maketh   them  more 
terrible  to  beholde  in  battaile.     They  weare  their  hayre  long  and 
shatie  all  partes  of  their  bodyes,  sauing  the  head  and  the  vpper  lippe.  25 
Diuers  other  vses  and  customes  are  among  them,  as  I  haue  read 
Philautus  :  But  whether  these  be  true  or  no,  I  wil  not  say :  for  me 
thinketh  an  Island  so  well  gouerned  in  peace  then,  and  so  famous 
in  victories,  so  fertile  in  all  respects,  so  wholsome  and  populous, 
must  needes   in   the  terme  of  a  .thousand  yeares  be  much   better,  3° 
and  I  beleeue  we  shall  finde  it  such,  as  we  neuer  read  the  like  of 
any,  and  vntil  we  ariue  there,  we  wil  suspend  our  iudgementes  :  Yet 
do  I  meane  at  my  returne  from  thence  to  draw  the  whole  discription 
of  the  Land,   the  customes,   ye  nature    of  ye   people,   ye    state,   ye 
gouernment,  &  whatsoeuer  deserueth  either  meruaile  or  comendatio.  35 

Philautus    not    accustomed    to    these    narrow    Seas,    was    more 
redy  to  tell  what  wood  the  ship  was  made   of,  then  to  aunswer 

5  in  oin.  A  rest  7  neathermost  E  rest  16  estemed  E  rest  18 

most]  the  E  rest  23  it  om.  E  rest          25  bodie  E  rest          26  are  om.  M-E 

32  and  om.  B  rest  33  my]  our  E  rest  36  those  BE  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  33 

to  Euphues  discourse:  yet  between  waking  and  winking,  as,  one 
halfe  sicke  and  some-what  sleepy,  it  came  in  his  braynes,  aunswered 
thus. 

In  fayth  Euphues  thou  hast  told  a  long  tale,  the  beginning  I  haue 

5  forgotten,  ye  middle  I  vnderstand  not,  and  the  end  hangeth  not 

together :  therfore  I  cannot  repeat  it  as  I  would,  nor  delight  in  it  as 

I  ought :  yet  if  at  our  arriuall  thou  wilt  renew  thy  tale,  I  will  rub 

my  memorie :    in  the  meane  season,   would  I  wer  either  again  in 

Italy,  or  now  in  England.     I  cannot  brook  these  Seas,  which  prouoke 

10  my  stomack  sore.     I  haue  an  appetite,  it  wer  best  for  me  to  take 

a  nap,  for  euery  word  is  brought  forth  with  a  nod. 

Euphues  replied.  I  cannot  tell  Philautus  whether  the  Sea  make 
thee  sicke,  or  she  that  was  borne  of  the  Sea :  if  the  first,  thou  hast 
a  quesie  stomacke  :  if  the  latter,  a  wanto  desire.  I  wel  beleue  thou 
15  remembrest  nothing  y*  may  doe  thee  good,  nor  forgettest  any  thing, 
which  can  do  thee  harme,  making  more  of  a  soare  then  a  plaister, 
and  wishing  rather  to  be  curssed  then  cured,  where-in  thou  agreest 
with  those  which  hauing  taken  a  surfet,  seeke  the  meanes  rather  to 
sleepe  then  purge,  or  those  that  hauing  ye  greene  sicknes,  &  are 
20  brought  to  deaths  dore  follow  their  own  humour,  and  refuse  the 
Phisitions  remedy.  And  such  Philauttis  is  thy  desease,  who  pining 
in  thine  owne  follies,  chusest  rather  to  perish  in  loue,  then  to  Hue  in 
wisdome,  but  what-soeuer  be  the  cause,  I  wish  the  effect  may 
answer  my  friendly  care :  then  doubtles  yu  shalt  neither  die  being 
25  seasick,  or  doat  being  loue  sick.  I  would  ye  Sea  could  aswel  purge 
thy  mind  of  fond  conceits,  as  thy  body  of  grose  humours.  Thus 
ending,  Philautus  againe  began  to  vrge. 

Without  dout  Euphues  yu  dost  me  great  wrong,  in  seeking  a  skar 

in  a  smoth  skin,  thiking  to  stop  a  vain  wher  none  opened,  and  to 

30  cast  loue  in  my  teeth,  which  I  haue  already  spit  out  of  my  mouth, 

which  I  must  needes  thinke  proceedeth  rather  for  lacke  of  matter, 

then  any  good  meaning,  els  woldest  thou  neuer  harp  on  yfc  string 

which  is  burst  in  my  hart,  and  yet  euer  souding  in  thy  eares.     Thou 

art  like  those  that  procure  one  to  take  phisick  before  he  be  sick,  and 

35  to  apply  a  searcloth  to  his  bodye,  when  he  feeleth  no  ach,  or  a  vomit 

for  a  surfet,  whe  his  stomacke  is  empty.     If  euer  I  fall  to  mine  old 

2  it]   as  E  rest,  reading  as  one  .  . .  (without  comma — and  so  all]  in  line  before 
14  queasie  G  rest  16  of  before  a2  E  rest  19  then]  than  to  E  rest 

are  so  all,  though  grammar  requires  being  2  2  owne]  one  B  :  owe  H     follie 

E  rest         24  neuer  E  rest         28  great  om.  E  rest         29  is  before  opened  A  rest 
35  searecloth  (i.e.  cerecloth)  E  rest  36  a]  his  E  rest 

BOND   II  D 


34  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Byas,  I  must  put  thee  in  the  fault  that  talkes  of  it,  seeing  thou 
didst  put  me  in  the  minde  to  think  of  it,  wher-by  thou  seemest 
to  blow  ye  cole  which  thou  woldest  quench,  setting  a  teene  edge, 
wher  thou  desirest  to  haue  a  sharp  poynt,  ymping  a  fether  to 
make  me  flye,  when  thou  oughtest  rather  to  cut  my  wing  for  feare  of  5 
soaring. 

Lucilla  is  dead,  and  she  vpon  whome  I  gesse  thou  harpest  is 
forgotten  :  the  one  not  to  be  redeemed,  the  other  not  to  be  thought 
on  :  Then  good  Euphues  wring  not  a  horse  on  the  withers,  with 
a  false  saddle,  neither  imagin  what  I  am  by  thy  thoughts,  but  by  10 
mine  own  doings  :  so  shalt  thou  haue  me  both  willing  to  followe 
good  counsell,  and  able  hereafter  to  giue  thee  comfort.  And  so 
I  rest  halfe  sleepy  with  the  Seas. 

With  this  aunswere  Euphues  held  him-self  content,  but  as  much 
weary ed  with  talke  as  the  other  was  with  trauaile,  made  a  pyllow  of  15 
his  hand,  and  there  let  them  both  sleepe  their  fill  and  dreame  with 
their  fancies,  vntill  either  a  storme  cause  them  to  wake,  or  their  hard 
beds,  or  their  iournies  ende. 

Thus  for  the  space  of  an  eight  weekes  Euphues  &  Philautus  sailed 
on  ye  seas,  from  their  first  shipping,  betwen  whome  diuers  speaches  20 
were  vttered,  which  to  resite  were  nothing  necessary  in  this  place,  & 
weighing   the   circumstances,    scarse   expedient,   what   tepests   they 
endured,  what  straug   sights  in  ye  elemet,  what  monstrous    fishes 
were  seene,  how  often  they  were  in  daunger  of  drowning,  in  feare  of 
boording,  how  wearie,  how  sick,  how  angrie,  it  were  tedious  to  write,  25 
for  that  whosoeuer  hath  either  read  of  trauailing,  or  himselfe  vsed  it, 
can  sufficiently  gesse  what  is  to  be  sayd.     And  this  I  leaue  to  the 
iudgement  of  those  that  in  the  like  iourney  haue  spent  their  time 
from  Naples  to  England,  for  if  I  should  faine  more  then  others  haue 
tryed,  I  might  be  thought  too  Poeticall :  if  lesse,  partiall :  therefore  30 
I  omit  the  wonders,  the  Rockes,  the  markes,  the  goulfes,  and  what- 
soeuer  they  passed  or  saw,  least  I  should  trouble  diuers  with  things 
they  know,  or  may  shame  my  selfe,  with  things  I  know  not.     Lette 
this  suffice,  that  they  are  safely  come  within  a  ken  of  Douer,  which 
the  Master  espying,  with  a  cheerefull  voyce  waking  them,  began  to  35 
vtter  these  words  vnto  them. 

i  talkest  E  rest  3  a  teene]  keen  E  rest              4  not  before  to1  H  rest 

10  thy]  my  E  rest  15  wearie  E  rest  17  fantasies  G :  fantasie  E  rest 

20  their]  the  GE  rest  23  sight  E  rest  26  either  oin.  E  rest    hath  before 

himselfe  G  rest             27  this]  thus  E  rest  32  diuerse  EF 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  35 

r~^  Entlemen  and  friends,  the  longest  Summers  day  hath  his  euening, 

Vlisses  arriueth  at  last,  &  rough  windes  in  time  bring  the  ship 

to  safe  Road.     We  are  now  with-in  foure  houres  sayling  of  our 

Hauen,  and  as  you  wil  thinke  of  an  earthly  heauen.     Yonder  white 

5  Cliffes  which  easely  you  may  perceiue,  are  Douer  hils,  where- vnto 
is  adioyning  a  strong  and  famous  Castle,  into  the  which  lulius  Cczsar 
did  enter,  where  you  shall  view  many  goodly  monuments,  both 
straunge  &  auncient.  Therefore  pull  vp  your  harts,  this  merry 
winde  will  immediately  bring  vs  to  an  easie  bayte. 

10  Philautus  was*  glad  he  slept  so  long,  and  was  awaked  in  so  good 
time,  beeing  as  weary  of  the  seas,  as  he  that  neuer  vsed  them. 
Euphues  not  sorrowfull  of  this  good  newes,  began  to  shake  his 
eares,  and  was  soone  apparailed.  To  make  short,  the  windes  were 
so  fauorable,  the  Mariners  so  skilfull,  the  waye  so  short,  that  I  feare 

'5  me  they  will  lande  before  I  can  describe  the  manner  how,  and 
therefore  suppose  them  now  in  Douer  Towne  in  the  noble  Isle  of 
England,  somwhat  benighted,  &  more  apt  to  sleepe  then  suppe. 
Yet  for  manners  sake  they  enterteined  their  Master  &  the  rest  of  the 
Merchants  and  Marriners,  wher  hauing  in  due  time  both  recorded 

20  their  trauailes  past,  and  ended  their  repast,  euery  one  went  to  his 

lodging,  where  I  wil  leaue  them  soundly  sleeping  vntill  the  next  day. 

The  next  day  they  spent  in  viewing  the  Castle  of  Douer,  the  Pyre, 

the  Cliffes,  the  Road,  and  Towne,  receiuing  as  much  pleasure  by  the 

sight  of  auncient  monuments,  as  by  their  curteous  enterteinment,  no 

25  lesse  praising  ye  persons  for  their  good  mindes,  then  the  place  for 
ye  goodly  buildigs :  &  in  this  sort  they  refreshed  theselues  3.  or  .4. 
daies,  vntil  they  had  digested  ye  seas,  &  recouered  again  their  healths, 
yet  so  warely  they  behaued  themselues,  as  they  wer  neuer  heard, 
either  to  enquire  of  any  newes,  or  point  to  any  fortres,  beholding  the 

3°  bulwarkes  w*  a  slight  &  careles  regard,  but  y8  other  places  of  peace, 
with  admiration.  Folly  it  wer  to  shew  what  they  saw,  seing  there 
after  in  ye  descriptio  of  England,  it  shall  most  manifestly  appeare. 
But  I  will  set  them  forwarde  in  their  iourney,  where  now  with-in  this 
two  houres,  we  shall  finde  them  in  Caunterbury. 

35  Trauailing  thus  like  two  Pilgrimes,  they  thought  it  most  necessary 
to  direct  their  steppes  toward  London,  which  they  hard  was  the  most 
royall  seat  of  the  Queene  of  England.  But  first  they  came  to 
Canterbury,  an  olde  Citie,  somewhat  decayed,  yet  beautiful  to 

3  our]  the  E  rest        8  yours  B  22  Fire  (i.e.  pier)  E  rest  24  no]  as 

H  rest  26  >e]  their  GE  rest  29  to'']  at  ABE  rest 

D  2 


36  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

behold,  most  famous  for  a  Cathedrall  Church,  the  very  Maiestie 
whereoff,  stroke  them  into  a  maze,  where  they  saw  many  monu 
ments,  and  heard  tell  of  greater,  then  either  they  euer  saw,  or  easely 
would  beleeue. 

After  they  had  gone  long,  seeing  them-selues  almost  benighted,  5 
determined  to  make  the  nexte  house  their  Inne,  and  espying  in  their 
way  euen  at  hande  a  very  pleasaunt  garden,  drew  neere  :  where  they 
sawe  a  comely  olde  man  as  busie  as  a  Bee  among  his  Bees,  whose 
countenaunce  bewrayed  his  conditions  :  this  auncient  Father,  Euphues 
greeted  in  this  manner.  10 

,  if  thecourtesie  of  Englande  be  aunswerable  to  the  custome 

of  Pilgrimes,  then  will  the  nature  of  the  Countrey,  excuse  the 
boldnesse  of  straungers :  our  request  is  to  haue  such  enterteinment, 
beeing  almost  tyred  with  trauaile,  not  as  diners  haue  for  acquaint- 
aunce,  but  as  all  men  haue  for  their  money,  which  curtesie  if  you  15 
graunt,  we  will  euer  remaine  in  your  debt,  although  euery  way  dis 
charge  our  due  :  and  rather  we  are  importunate,  for  that  we  are  no 
lesse  delighted  with  the  pleasures  of  your  garden,  then  the  sight  of 
your  grauitie.  Unto  whom  the  olde  man  sayd. 

Entlemen,  you  are  no  lesse  I  perceiue  by  your  maners,  and  you  20 

can  be  no  more  beeing  but  men,  I  am  neither  so  vncourteous 
to  mislyke  your  request  nor  so  suspicious  to  mistrust  your  truthes, 
although  it  bee  no  lesse  perillous  to  be  secure,  then  peeuish  to  be 
curious.  I  keepe  no  victualling,  yet  is  my  house  an  Inne,  &  I  an 
Hoste  to  euery  honest  man,  so  far  as  they  with  courtesie  wil,  &  25 
I  may  with  abilytie.  Your  enterteinmet  shal  be  as  smal  for  cheere, 
as  your  acquaintance  is  for  time,  yet  in  my  house  ye  may  happely 
finde  some  one  thing  cleanly,  nothing  courtly  :  for  that  wisedome 
prouideth  things  necessarie,  not  superfluous,  &  age  seeketh  rather 
a  Modicum  for  sustenaunce,  then  feastes  for  surfets.  But  vntil  30 
some  thing  may  be  made  ready,  might  I  be  so  bold  as  enquire  your 
names,  countreys,  and  ye  cause  of  your  pilgrimage,  where-in  if  I  shalbe 
more  inquisitiue  then  I  ought,  let  my  rude  birth  excuse  my  bolde 
request,  which  I  will  not  vrge  as  one  importunate  (I  might  say) 
impudent.  35 

EuphueS)  seeing  this  fatherly  and  friendlye  Sire,  (whom  we  will 
name  Fidus]  to  haue  no  lesse  inwarde  courtesie,  then  outward 
comelynesse,  coniectured  (as  well  he  might)  that  the  prefer  of  his 

4  could  E  rest  17  for  that]  the  for  that  H\  the  more,  for  that  1617  rest 

24  mine  E  rest  25  to]  for  A  rest  33  excuse]  satisfie  A  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  37 

bountie,  noted  the  noblenesse  of  his  birth,  beeing  wel  assured  that 
as  no  Thersites  could  be  transformed  into  Vlisses,  so  no  Alexander 
could  be  couched  in  Damocles. 

Thinking  therefore   now  with  more   care   and   aduisednesse   to 
5  temper  his  talke,  least  either  he  might  seeme  foolysh  or  curious,  he 
aunswered  him,  in  these  termes. 

Ood  sir,  you  haue  bound  vs  vnto  you  with  a  double  chaine,  the 
one  in  pardoning  our  presumption,  the  other  in  graunting  our 
peticion.     Which  great  &  vndeserued  kindenesse,  though  we  can-not 

10  requit  with  the  lyke,  yet  if  occasion  shall  serue,  you  shall  finde  vs 
heereafter  as  willing  to  make  amends,  as  we  are  now  ready  to  giue 
thankes. 

Touching  your  demaunds,  we  are  not  so  vnwise  to  mislyke  them, 
or  so  vngratefull  to  deny  them,  least  in  concealing  our  names,  it 

15  might  be  thought  for  some  trespasse,  and  couering  our  pretence,  we 
might  be  suspected  of  treason.  Know  you  then  sir,  that  this 
Gentleman  my  fellow,  is  called  Philautus^  I  Euphues  :  he  an  Italian^ 
I  a  Grecian :  both  sworne  friendes  by  iust  tryall,  both  Pilgrim es  by 
free  will.  Concerninge  the  cause  of  our  comming  into  this  Islande, 

20  it  was  onely  to  glue  our  eyes  to  our  eares,  that  we  might  iustifie 
those  things  by  sight,  which  we  haue  oftentimes  with  incredible 
admiration  vnderstoode  by  hearing  :  to  wit,  the  rare  qualyties  as  well 
of  the  body  as  the  minde,  of  your  most  dreade  Souereigne  and 
Queene,  the  brute  of  the  which  hath  filled  euery  corner  of  the  worlde, 

25  insomuch  as  there  is  nothing  that  moueth  either  more  matter  or  more 
meruaile  then  hir  excellent  maiestie,  which  fame  when  we  saw,  with- 
-out  comparison,  and  almost  aboue  credit,  we  determined  to  spend 
some  parte  of  our  time  and  treasure  in  the  English  court,  where  if 
we  could  finde  the  reporte  but  to  be  true  in  halfe,  wee  shoulde  not 

30  onelye  thinke  our  money  and  trauayle  well  employed,  but  returned 
with  interest  more  then  infinite.  This  is  the  onely  ende  of  our 
comming,  which  we  are  nothing  fearefull  to  vtter,  trusting  as  well  to 
the  curtesie  of  your  countrey,  as  the  equitie  of  our  cause. 

Touching  the  court,  if  you  can  giue  vs  any  instructions,  we  shal 

35  think  the  euening  wel  spent,  which  procuring  our  delight,  can  no  way 
worke  your  disliking. 

4  aduisement  E  rest  26  which]  with  M   _        29  we]  I  BE  rest  33 

case  EF  34  instruction  E  rest  35  can]  may  E  rest         36  your]  our 

E  rest 


38  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Entle-men  (aunswered  this  olde  man)  if  bicause  I  entertaine  you, 
you  seeke  to  vndermin  me,  you  offer  me  great  discurtesie  : 
you  must  needes  thinke  me  verye  simple,  or  your  selues  very  subtill, 
if  vpon  so  small  acquaintaunce  I  should  answer  to  such  demauds, 
as  are  neither  for  me  to  vtter  being  a  subiect,  nor  for  you  to  know  5 
being  straungers.  I  keepe  hiues  for  Bees,  not  houses  for  busibodies 
(pardon  me  Gentlemen,  you  haue  moued  my  patience)  &  more  wel 
come  shal  a  wasp  be  to  my  honny,  then  a  priuy  enimy  to  my  house. 
If  the  rare  reporte  of  my  most  gracious  Ladye  haue  brought  you 
hether,  mee  thinketh  you  haue  done  very  ill  to  chuse  such  a  house  10 
to  confirme  your  mindes,  as  seemeth  more  like  a  prison  then 
a  pallace,  where-by  in  my  opinion,  you  meane  to  derogate  from  the 
worthines  of  the  person  by  ye  vilnes  of  the  place,  which  argueth 
your  pretences  to  sauor  of  malice  more  then  honest  meaning.  They 
vse  to  consult  of  loue  in  ye  Capitol,  of  Ccesar,  in  the  senat,  of  our  15 
noble  Queene,  in  hir  owne  court.  Besides  that,  Alexander  must  be 
painted  of  none  but  Appelles,  nor  engrauen  of  any  but  Lisippus,  nor  our 
Elizabeth  set  forth  of  euery  one  that  would  in  duety,  which  are  all, 
but  of  those  that  can  in  skyll,  which  are  fewe,  so  furre  hath  nature 
•ouercome  arte,  and  grace  eloquence,  that  the  paynter  draweth  a  vale  20 
ouer  that  he  cannot  shaddow,  and  the  Orator  holdeth  a  paper  in  his 
hand,  for  that  he  cannot  vtter.  But  whether  am  I  wandring,  rapt 
farther  by  deuotion  then  I  can  wade  through  with  discretion.  Cease 
then  Gentle-men,  and  know  this,  that  an  English-man  learneth  to 
speake  of  menne,  and  to  holde  his  peace  of  the  Gods.  Enquire  no  25 
farther  then  beseemeth  you,  least  you  heare  that  which  can-not  like 
you.  But  if  you  thinke  the  time  long  before  your  repast,  I  wil  finde 
some  talk  which  shall  breede  your  delight  touching  my  Bees. 

And  here  Euphues  brake  him  off,  and  replyed  :    though  not  as 
bitterly  as  he  would,  yet  as  roundlye  as  he  durst,  in  this  manner.         30 

We  are  not  a  little  sory  syr,  not  that  we  haue  opened  our  mindes, 
but  that  we  are  taken  amisse,  and  where  we  meant  so  well,  to  be 
entreated  so  ill,  hauing  talked  of  no  one  thing,  vnlesse  it  be  of  good 
wil  towards  you,  whome  we  reuerenced  for  age,  and  of  dutye  towarde 
your  Souereigne,  whom  we  meruailed  at  for  vertue :  which  good  35 
meaning  of  ours  misconstrued  by  you,  hath  bread  such  a  distem- 
perature  in  our  heads,  that  we  are  fearfull  to  praise  hir,  whom  al  the 

7  Genentle-men  M         16  noble  oni.  E  rest  19  farre  A  rest  24  then 

om.  E  rest       an]  a  B         28  your]  you  E  rest  32  are]  art  E       when^A'  rest 

meane  E  rest  34  towards]  towars  M          we  ont.  M          reuerence  A  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  39 

world  extolleth,  and  suspitious  to  trust  you,  whom  aboue  any  in 

the  worlde  we  loued.     And  wheras  your  greatest  argument  is,  the 

basenes  of  your  house,  me  thinketh  that  maketh  most  against  you. 

Ccesar  neuer  reioyced  more,  then  when  hee  heard  that  they  talked 

5  of  his  valyant  exploits  in  simple  cotages,  alledging  this,  that  a  bright 

Sunne  shineth  in  euery  corner,  which  maketh  not  the  beames  worse, 

but  the  place  better.     When  (as  I  remember)  Agesilaus  sonne  was 

set  at  the  lower  end  of  the  table,  &  one  cast  it  in  his  teeth  as 

a  shame,  he  answered :  this  is  the  vpper  end  where  I  sit,  for  it  is  not 

10  the  place  that  maketh  the  person,  but  the  person  that  maketh  the 

place  honorable.     When  it  was  told  Alexander  that  he  was  much 

praysed  of  a  Myller,  I  am  glad  quoth  he,  that  there  is  not  so  much 

as  a  Miller  but  loueth  Alexander.     Among  other  fables,  I  call  to  my 

remembrance  one,  not  long,  but  apt,  and  as  simple  as  it  is,  so  fit 

15  it  is,  that  I  cannot  omit  it  for  y*  opportunitie  of  the  time,  though 

I  might  ouer-leap  it  for  the  basenesse  of  the  matter.     When  all  the 

Birds  wer  appointed  to  meete  to  talke  of  ye  Eagle,  there  was  great 

contention,  at  whose  nest  they  should  asseble,  euery  one  willing 

to  haue  it  at  his  own  home,  one  preferring  the  nobilitie  of  his  birth, 

20  an  other  the  statelynes  of  his  building :  some  would  haue  it  for  one 

qualitie,  some  for  an  other :   at  the  last  the  Swalow,  said  they  should 

come  to   his  nest  (being  commonly  of  filth)   which  all  the   Birds 

disdaining,    sayd :    why    thy   house   is    nothing    els   but   durt,    and 

therfore   aunswered   ye  Swalow  would   I  haue   talke  there   of  the 

25  Eagle :  for  being  the  basest,  the  name  of  an  Eagle  wil  make  it  ye 

brauest.     And  so  good  father  may  I  say  of  thy  cotage,  which  thou 

seemest  to  account  of  so  homly,   that  mouing  but  spech  of  thy 

Souereigne,  it  will  be  more  like  a  court  then  a  cabin,  and  of  a  prison 

the  name  of  Elizabeth  wil  make  it  a  pallace.    The  Image  of  a  Prince 

30  stampt  in  copper  goeth  as  currant,  and  a  Crow  may  cry  Ane  Ccesar 

with-out  any  rebuke. 

The  name  of  a  Prince  is  like  the  sweete  deaw,  which  falleth  as 
well  vppon  lowe  shrubbes,  as  hygh  trees,  and  resembleth  a  true 
glasse,  where-in  the  poore  maye  see  theyr  faces  with  the  rych,  or 
35  a  cleare  streame  where-in  all  maye  drincke  that  are  drye  :  not  they 
onelye  that  are  wealthy.  Where  you  adde,  that  wee  shoulde  feare 
to  moue  anye  occasion  touching  talke  of  so  noble  a  Prince,  truly  our 
reuerence  taketh  away  the  feare  of  suspition.  The  Lambe  feareth 

13  tables  E  :  tales  F  rest          15  y*]  the  ABE  rest  30  and]  as  E 


40  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

not  the  Lion,  but  the  Wolfe :  the  Partridge  dreadeth  not  the  Eagle, 
but  the  Hawke :  a  true  and  faythfull  heart  standeth  more  in  awe 
of  his  superior  whom  he  loueth  for  feare,  the"  of  his  Prince  whom  he 
feareth  for  loue.    A  cleere  conscience  needeth  no  excuse,  nor  feareth 
any  accusation.     Lastly  you  conclude,  that  neither  arte  nor  heart  5 
can  so  set  forth  your  noble  Queene,  as  she  deserueth.     I  graunt  it, 
and  reioyce  at  it,  and  that  is  the  cause  of  our  comming  to  see  hir, 
whom  none  can  sufficiently  commend :  and  yet  doth  it  not  follow, 
that  bicause  wee  cannot  giue  hir  as  much  as  she  is  worthy  off, 
therefore  wee  should  not  owe  hir  any.     But  in  this  we  will  imitate  10 
the   olde   paynters   in    Greece,  who   drawing   in   theyr  Tables   the 
portrature  of  Jupiter,  were  euery  houre  mending  it,  but  durst  neuer 
finish  it :  And  being  demaunded  why  they  beganne  that,  which  they 
could  not  ende,  they  aunswered,  in  that  we  shew  him  to  bee  lupiter, 
whome  euery  one  may  beginne  to  paynt,  but  none  can  perfect.     In  15 
the  lyke  manner  meane  we  to  drawe  in  parte  the  prayses  of  hir, 
whome  we  cannot  throughly  portraye,  and  in  that  we  signifie  hir  to 
be  Elyzabeth.     Who  enforceth  euery  man  to  do  as  much  as  he  can, 
when  in  respect  of  hir  perfection,  it  is  nothing.     For  as  he  that 
beholdeth  the  Sunne  stedfastly,  thinking  ther-by  to  describe  it  more  20 
perfectly,  hath  his  eies  so  daseled,  that  he  can  discerne  nothing, 
so  fareth  it  with  those  that  seeke  marueilously  to  praise  those,  y*  are 
without  ye  compasse  of  their  iudgements,  &  al  comparison,  y*  the  more 
they  desire,  the  lesse  they  discern,  &  the  neerer  they  think  the  selues 
in  good  wil,  the  farther  they  finde  themselues  of  in  wisdo,  thinking  25 
to  mesure  y*  by  the  ynch,  which  they  cannot  reach  with  ye  ell.    And 
yet  father,  it  can  be  neither  hurtful  to  you,  nor  hateful  to  your 
Prince,  to  here  the  commendation  of  a  straunger,  or  to  aunswere  his 
honest  request,  who  will  wish  in  heart  no  lesse  glorye  to  hir,  then 
you   doe :    although  they  can   wish   no  more.     And   therfore   me  30 
thinketh  you  haue  offered  a  little  discourtesie,  not  to  aunswere  vs, 
and  to  suspect  vs,  great  iniury :  hauing  neither  might  to  attempt  any 
thing  which  may  do  you  harme,  nor  malice  to  reuenge,  wher  we  finde 
helpe.     For  mine  owne  part  this  I  say,  &  for  my  friend  present  the 
lyke  I  dare  sweare,  how  boldly  I  can-not  tell,  how  truely  I  know :  35 
that  there  is  not  any  one,  whether  he  be  bound  by  benefit  or  duetie, 
or  both :   whether  linked  by  zeale,  or  time,  or  bloud,  or  al :   that 
more  humbly  reuerenceth  hir  Maiestie,  or  meruaileth  at  hir  wisedome, 

14  answere  E  rest  24  that  before  they1  E  rest      elues  M         26  the  .... 

ye]  an  ....  an  E  rest  27  father]  farther  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  41 

or  prayeth  for  hir  long  prosperous  and  glorious  Reigne,  then  we : 
then  whom  we  acknowledge  none  more  simple,  and  yet  dare  auowe, 
none  more  faithfull.  Which  we  speake  not  to  get  seruice  by  flatterie,- 
but  to  acquite  our  selues  of  suspition,  by  faith :  which  is  al  that 
5  either  a  Prince  can  require  of  his  subiect,  or  a  vassal  yeeld  to  his 
Souereign,  and  that  which  we  owe  to  your  Queene,  &  all  others 
should  offer,  that  either  for  feare  of  punishment  dare  not  offend, 
or  for  loue  of  vertue,  will  not. 

Heere  olde  Fidus  interrupted  young  Euphues,  being  almost 
10  induced  by  his  talke,  to  aunswere  his  request,  yet  as  one  neither  too 
credulous,  nor  altogether  mistrustful,  he  replyed  as  a  friend,  &  so 
wisely  as  he  glauced  from  the  marke  Euphues  shot  at,  &  hit  at  last 
the  white  which  Philautus  set  vp,  as  shall  appeare  heereafter.  And 
thus  he  began. 

15  A/TY  sonnes  (mine  age  giueth  me  the  priuiledge  of  that  terme,  and 

your  honesties  can-not  refuse  it)  you  are  too  young  to  vnder- 

stand  matters  of  state,  and  were  you  elder  to  knowe  them  it  were 

not  for  your  estates.     And  therfore  me  thinketh,  the  time  were  but 

lost,  in  pullyng  Hercules  shooe  vppon  an  Infants  foot,  or  in  setting 

20  Atlas  burthen  on  a  childes  shoulder,  or  to  bruse  your  backes,  with 
the  burthen  of  a  whole  kingdome,  which  I  speake  not,  that  either 
I  mistrust  you  (for  your  reply  hath  fully  resolued  yfc  feare)  or  yt 
I  malice  you  (for  my  good  will  maye  cleare  me  of  y*  fault)  or  that  I 
dread  your  might  (for  your  smal  power  cannot  bring  me  into  such 

25  a  folly)  but  that  I  haue  learned  by  experience,  y*  to  reason  of  Kings 
or  Princes,  hath  euer  bene  much  mislyked  of  ye  wise,  though  much 
desired  of  fooles,  especially  wher  old  men,  which  should  be  at  their 
beads,  be  too  busie  with  the  court,  &  young  men  which  shold 
follow  their  bookes,  be  to  inquisitiue  in  ye  affaires  of  princes.  We 

30  shold  not  looke  at  y*  we  canot  reach,  nor  long  for  y*  we  shold  not 
haue :  things  aboue  vs,  are  not  for  vs,  &  therfore  are  prices  placed 
vnder  ye  gods,  yt  they  should  not  see  what  they  do,  &  we  vnder 
princes,  that  we  might  not  enquire  what  they  doe.  But  as  ye  foolish 
Eagle  y*  seing  ye  sun  coueteth  to  build  hir  nest  in  ye  sun,  so  fond 

35  youth,  which  viewing  ye  glory  &  gorgeousnesse  of  ye  court,  longeth 
to  know  the  secrets  in  ye  court.  But  as  ye  Eagle,  burneth  out  hir 

5  require]  desire  G  rest          9  interrupting  G  rest  12  the  before  last  G  rest 

20  shoulders  E  rest  22  fully  om.  E  rest  35  gorgeousnesse]  gloriousnes 

E  rest  36  in]  of  G  rest 


42  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

eyes  wfc  that  proud  lust :  so  doth  youth  break  his  hart  with  y*  peeuish 
conceit.  And  as  Satirus  not  knowing  what  fire  was,  wold  needs 
embrace  it,  &  was  burned,  so  these  fonde  Satiri  not  vnderstanding 
what  a  Prince  is,  runne  boldly  to  meddle  in  those  matters  which 
they  know  not,  &  so  feele  worthely  ye  heat  they  wold  not.  And  5 
therfore  good  Euphues  &  Philautus  content  your  selues  w*  this,  y*  to 
be  curious  in  things  you  should  not  enquire  off,  if  you  know  the, 
they  appertain  not  vnto  you  :  if  you  knew  the  not,  they  canot  hinder 
you.  And  let  Appelles  answere  to  Alexander  be  an  excuse  for  me. 
When  Alexander  would  needes  come  to  Appelles  shop  and  paint,  10 
Appelles  placed  him  at  his  backe,  who  going  to  his  owne  worke,  did 
not  so  much  as  cast  an  eye  back,  to  see  Alexanders  deuises,  which 
being  wel  marked,  Alexander  said  thus  vnto  him :  Art  not  thou 
a  cunning  Painter,  and  wilt  thou  not  ouer-looke  my  picture,  &  tel 
me  wherin  I  haue  done  wel,  &  wherin  ill?  whom  he  answered  15 
wisely,  yet  merily :  In  faith  O  king  it  is  not  for  Appelles  to  enquire 
what  Alexander  hath  done,  neither  if  he  shew  it  me,  to  iudge  how  it 
is  done,  &  therefore  did  I  set  your  Maiestie  at  my  back,  y*  I  might 
not  glaunce  towards  a  kings  work,  &  that  you  looking  ouer  my  head 
might  see  mine,  for  Appelles  shadowes  are  to  be  scene  of  Alexander,  20 
but  not  Alexanders  of  Appelles.  So  ought  we  Euphues  to  frame  our 
selues  in  all  our  actions  &  deuises,  as  though  the  King  stood  ouer 
vs  to  behold  vs,  and  not  to  looke  what  the  King  doth  behinde  vs. 
For  whatsoeuer  he  painteth  it  is  for  his  pleasure,  and  wee  must  think 
for  our  profit,  for  Appelles  had  his  reward  though  he  saw  not  the  25 
worke. 

I  haue  heard  of  a  Magnifico  in  Millaine  (and  I  thinke  Philautus 
you  being  an  Italian  do  remeber  it,)  who  hearing  his  sonne 
inquisitiue  of  the  Emperours  lyfe  and  demeanour,  reprehended  him 
sharply,  saying :  that  it  beseemed  not  one  of  his  house,  to  enquire  30 
how  an  Emperour  liued,  vnlesse  he  himself  were  an  Emperour :  for 
yt  the  behauiour  &  vsage  of  so  honourable  personages  are  not  to  be 
called  in  question  of  euery  one  that  doubteth,  but  of  such  as  are 
their  equalls. 

Alexander  being  commaunded  of  Philip  his  Father  to  wrastle  in  35 
the  games  of  Olympia,  aunswered  he  woulde,  if  there  were  a  King 
to  striue  with  him,  where-by  I  haue  noted  (that  others  seeme  to 
inforce)  that  as  Kings  pastimes  are  no  playes  for  euery  one :  so  their 

i  yl  peeuish]  foolish  H.rest  2,  3  Satynis  and  Satyri  F  rest  6  wfc] 

in  E  rest      y*  so  all,  but  qy.  ?  not       8  knew]  know  1630-36      14  thou  om.  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  43 

secretes,  their  counsells,  their  dealings,  are  not  to  be  either  scanned 
or  enquired  off  any  way,  vnlesse  of  those  that  are  in  the  lyke  place, 
or  serue  the  lyke  person.  I  can-not  tell  whether  it  bee  a  Caunterbury 
tale,  or  a  :Fable  in  Aesope,  (but  pretie  it  is,  and  true  in  my  minde) 
5  That  the  Foxe  and  the  Wolfe,  gooing  both  a  filching  for  foode, 
thought  it  best  to  see  whether  the  Lyon  were  a  sleepe  or  awake, 
least  beeing  too  bolde,  they  should  speede  too  bad.  The  Foxe 
entring  into  the  Kings  denne,  (a  King  I  call  the  Lyon)  brought  word 
to  the  Wolfe,  that  he  was  a  sleepe,  and  went  him-selfe  to  his  owne 

10  kenell,  the  Wolfe  desirous  to  searche  in  the  Lyons  denne,  that  hee 
might  espye  some  fault,  or  steale  some  praye,  entered  boldly,  whom 
the  Lyon  caught  in  his  pawes  and  asked  what  he  would  ?  the  sillye 
Wolfe  (an  vnapte  tearme,  for  a  Wolfe,  yet  fit,  being  in  a  Lyons 
handes)  aunswered,  that  vnderstanding  by  the  Foxe  he  was  a  sleepe, 

15  hee  thought  he  might  be  at  lybertie  to  suruey  his  lodging :  vnto 
whome  the  princelye  Lyon  with  great  disdaine  though  little  despite 
(for  that  there  can  be  no  enuy  in  a  King)  sayde  thus :  Doest  thou 
thinke  that  a  Lyon,  thy  Prince  and  gouernour  can  sleepe  though 
he  winke,  or  darest  thou  enquire,  whether  he  winke  or  wake  ?  The 

20  Foxe  had  more  craft  then  thou,  and  thou  more  courage  (courage 
I  wil  not  say,  but  boldnes  :  &  boldnes  is  too  good,  I  may  say 
desperatenesse)  but  you  shal  both  wel  know,  &  to  your  griefs  feele, 
yt  neither  ye  wilines  of  the  Fox,  nor  ye  wildnes  of  ye  Wolf,  ought 
either  to  see,  or  to  aske,  whether  ye  Lyon  either  sleepe  or  wake,  bee 

25  at  home  or  abroad,  dead  or  alyue.  For  this  is  sufficient  for  you  to 
know,  that  there  is  a  Lyon,  not  where  he  is,  or  what  he  doth.  In 
lyke  manner  Euphues,  is  the  gouernment  of  a  Monarchic  (though 
homely  bee  the  comparison,  yet  apte  it  is)  that  it  is  neither  the  wise 
Fox,  nor  the  malitious  Wolfe,  should  venture  so  farre,  as  to  learne 

30  whether  the  Lyon  sleepe  or  wake  in  his  denne,  whether  the  Prince 
fast  or  feaste  in  his  court :  but  this  shoulde  bee  their  order,  to  vnder- 
stand  there  is  a  king,  but  what  he  doth  is  for  the  Goddes  to  examine, 
whose  ordinaunce  he  is,  not  for  men,  whose  ouer-seer  he  is.  Then 
how  vaine  is  it  Euphues  (too  mylde  a  worde  for  so  madde  a  minde) 

35  that  the  foote  should  neglect  his  office  to  correct  the  face,  or  that 
subiectes  shoulde  seeke  more  to  knowe  what  their  Princes  doe,  then 
what  they  are :  where-in  they  shewe  them-selues  as  badde  as  beasts, 
and  much  worse  then  my  Bees,  who  in  my  conceite  though  I  maye 

12  his  om.  EF          17  can]  ran  E          22  your]  our  B  24  to2  om.  E  rest 

31  his]  ye  EF\  the  H  rest 


44  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

seeme  partiall,  obserue  more  order  then  they,  (and  if  I  myght  saye 
so  of  my  good  Bees,)  more  honestie:  honestie  my  olde  Graund-father 
called  that,  when  menne  lyued  by  law,  not  lyst :  obseruing  in  all 
thinges  the  meane,  which  wee  name  vertue,  and  vertue  we  account 
nothing  els  but  to  deale  iustly  and  temperately.  5 

And  if  I  myght  craue  pardon,  I  would  a  little  acquaint  you  with 
the  common  wealth  of  my  Bees,  which  is  neyther  impertinent  to  the 
matter  we  haue  now  in  hand,  nor  tedious  to  make  you  weary. 

Euphues  delighted  with  the  discourses  of  old  fidus,  was  content 
to  heare  any  thing,  so  he  myght  heare  him  speake  some  thing,  and  10 
consenting  willingly,  hee  desired  Fidus  to  go  forward  :    who  nowe 
remouing  him-selfe  neerer  to  the  Hyues,  beganne  as  followeth. 

C~*  Entlemen,  I  haue  for  ye  space  of  this  twenty  yeares  dwelt  in  this 
^~^   place,  taking  no  delight  in  any  thing  but  only  in  keeping  my 
Bees,  &  marking  them,  &  this   I  finde,  which  had  I  not  scene,  15 
I    shold   hardly  haue   beleeued.     That   they  vse   as   great  wit   by 
induction,  and  arte  by  workmanship,  as   euer  man   hath,  or  can, 
vsing  betweene  themeselues  no  lesse  iustice  then  wisdome,  &  yet 
not  so  much  wisdome  as  maiestie :    in-somuch  as  thou  wouldest 
thinke,  that  they  were  a  kinde  of  people,  a  common  wealth  for  Plato^  20 
where  they  all  labour,  all  gather  honny,  flye  all  together  in  a  swarme, 
eate  in  a  swarm,  and  sleepe  in  a  swarm,  so  neate  and  finely,  that 
they  abhorre  nothing  so  much  as  vncleannes,  drinking  pure  and 
cleere  water,  delighting  in  sweete  and  sound  Musick,  which  if  they 
heare  but  once  out  of  tune,  they  flye  out  of  sight :  and  therefore  are  25 
they  called  the  Muses  byrds,  bicause  they  folow  not  the  sound  so 
much  as  the  consent.    They  lyue  vnder  a  lawe,  vsing  great  reuerence 
to  their  elder,  as  to  the  wiser.     They  chuse  a  King,  whose  pallace 
they  frame  both  brauer  in  show,  and  stronger  in  substaunce :  whome 
if  they  finde  to  fall,  they  establish  again  in  his  thron,  with  no  lesse  3° 
duty  then  deuotion,  garding  him  continually,  as  it  were  for  feare 
he  should  miscarry,  and  for  loue  he  should  not :  whom  they  tender 
with  such  fayth  and  fauour,  that  whether-soeuer  he  flyeth,  they  follow 
him,  and  if  hee  can-not  flye,  they  carry  him :   whose  lyfe  they  so 
loue,  that  they  will  not  for  his  safety  stick  to  die,  such  care  haue  35 
they  for  his  health,  on  whome  they  build  all  their  hope.     If  their 

3  lyst]  lust  E  rest  13  this1]  these  E  rest  17  induction  E  rest :  indution 
M-G\  qy.  ?  intuition  18  beweene  M  32  and  om.  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  45 

Prince  dye,  they  know  not  how  to  Hue,  they  languish,  weepe,  sigh, 
neither  inteding  their  work,  nor  keeping  their  olde  societie. 

And  that  which  is  most  meruailous,  and  almoste  incredible :  if 
ther  be  any  that  hath  disobeyed  his  commaundements,  eyther  of 
5  purpose,  or  vnwittingly,  hee  kylleth  him-selfe  with  his  owne  sting, 
as  executioner  of  his  own  stubbornesse.  The  King  him-selfe  hath 
his  sting,  which  hee  vseth  rather  for  honour  then  punishment : 
And  yet  Euphues,  al-beit  they  lyue  vnder  a  Prince,  they  haue  their 
priueledge,  and  as  great  liberties  as  straight  lawes. 

10  They  call  a  Parliament,  wher-in  they  consult,  for  lawes,  statutes, 
penalties,  chusing  officers,  and  creating  their  king,  not  by  affection 
but  reason,  not  by  the  greater  part,  but  ye  better.  And  if  such 
a  one  by  chaunce  be  chosen  (for  among  men  som-times  the  worst 
speede  best)  as  is  bad,  then  is  there  such  ciuill  war  and  dissention, 

15  that  vntill  he  be  pluckt  downe,  there  can  be  no  friendship,  and 
ouer-throwne,  there  is  no  enmitie,  not  fighting  for  quarrelles,  but 
quietnesse. 

Euery   one    hath   his   office,    some   trimming   the    honny,   some 
working  the  wax,  one  framing  hiues,  an  other  the  combes,  and  that 

20  so  artificially,  that  Dedalus  could  not  with  greater  arte  or  excellencie, 
better  dispose  the  orders,  measures,  ^proportions,  distinctions,  ioynts 
&  circles.  Diuers  hew,  others  polish,  all  are  carefull  to  doe  their 
worke  so  strongly,  as  they  may  resist  the  craft  of  such  drones,  as 
seek  to  Hue  by  their  labours,  which  maketh  them  to  keepe  watch 

25  and  warde,  as  lyuing  in  a  campe  to  others,  and  as  in  a  court  to  them- 
-selues.  Such  a  care  of  chastitie,  that  they  neuer  ingender,  such 
a  desire  of  cleannesse,  that  there  is  not  so  much  as  meate  in  all 
their  hiues. 

When  they  go  forth  to  work,  they  marke  the  wind,  the  clouds, 

30  &  whatsoeuer  doth  threaten  either  their  ruine,  or  raign,  &  hauing 

gathered   out   of  euery   flower   honny  they  return   loden   in   their 

mouthes,  thighs,  wings,  and  all  the  bodye,  whome  they  that  tarried 

at  home  receyue  readily,  as  easing  their  backes  of  so  great  burthens. 

The  Kyng  him-selfe  not  idle,  goeth  vp  and  downe,    entreating, 

35  threatning,  commanding,  vsing  the  counsell  of  a  sequel,  but  not 
loosing  the  dignitie  of  a  Prince,  preferring  those  yfc  labour  to  greater 
authoritie,  and  punishing  those  that  loyter,  with  due  seueritie.  All 

16  ouerthrowed  E        not]  no  H  rest  18  Euery]  Either  EF          22  all] 

and  E  rest  24  keepe  watch]  keepe,  to  watch  GEF  30  raign]  rage 

E  rest  35  sequell  A  rest  36  to]  in  E  rest 


46  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

which  thinges  being  much  admirable,  yet  this  is  most,  that  they  are 
so  profitable,  bringing  vnto  man  both  honnye  and  wax,  each  so 
wholsome  that  wee  all  desire  it,  both  so  necessary  that  we  cannot 
misse  them.  Here  Euphues  is  a  common  wealth,  which  oftentimes 
calling  to  my  minde,  I  cannot  chuse  but  commend  aboue  any  that  5 
either  I  haue  heard  or  read  of.  Where  the  king  is  not  for  euery 
one  to  talke  of,  where  there  is  such  homage,  such  loue,  such  labour, 
that  I  haue  wished  oftentimes,  rather  be  a  Bee,  then  not  be  as 
I  should  be. 

In  this  little  garden  with  these  hiues,  in  this  house  haue  I  spent  10 
the  better  parte  of  my  lyfe,  yea  and  the  best :   I  was  neuer  busie  in 
matters  of  state,  but  referring  al  my  cares  vnto  the  wisdom  of  graue 
Counsellors,  and  my  confidence  in  the  noble  minde  of  my  dread 
Souereigne  and  Queene,  neuer  asking  what  she  did,  but  alwayes 
praying  she  may  do  well,  not  enquiring  whether  she  might  do  what  15 
she  would,  but  thinking  she  would  do  nothing  but  what  she  might. 

Thus  contented  with  a  meane  estate,  and  neuer  curious  of  the 
high  estate,  I  found  such  quiet,  that  mee  thinketh,  he  which  knoweth 
least,  lyueth  longest :  insomuch  that  I  chuse  rather  to  be  an 
Hermitte  in  a  caue,  then  a  Counsellor  in  the  court.  20 

Euphues  perceyuing  olde  Fidus,  to  speake  what  hee  thought, 
aunswered  him  in  these  shorte  wordes. 

He  is  very  obstinate,  whome  neither  reason  nor  experiynce  can 
perswade :  and  truly  seeing  you  haue  alledged  both,  I  must  needes 
allow  both.     And  if  my  former  request  haue  bred  any  offence,  let  25 
my  latter  repentaunce  make  amends.     And  yet  this  I  knowe,  that 
I  enquyred  nothing  that  might  bring  you  into  daunger,  or  me  into 
trouble :   for  as  young  as  I  am,  this  haue  I  learned,  that  one  maye 
poynt  at  a  Starre,  but  not  pull  at  it,  and  see  a  Prince  but  not  search 
him :    And  for   mine   own   part,    I   neuer  mean    to    put    my  hand  30 
betweene  the  barke  and  the  tree,  or  in  matters  which  are  not  for  me 
to  be  ouer  curious. 

The  comon  wealth  of  your  Bees,  did  so  delight  me,  that  I  was 
not  a  lyttle  sory  yt  either  their  estate  haue  not  ben  longer,  or  your 
leasure  more,  for  in  my  simple  iudgement,  there  was  such  an  orderlye  35 
gouernment,  that  men  may  not  be  ashamed  to  imitate  the,  nor  you 
wearie  to  keepe  them. 

5-6  that  I  haue  either  read  or  heard  of  E  rest  8  to  before  be  (bis)  E  rest  13 
in]  to  E  rest  18  me  before  such  E  rest  ap  in]  in  in  M  28  I  haue 

BE  rest  30  my]  mine  E  rest  31  or]  nor  E  rest  34  estates  E  rest 

35  there]  their  A 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  47 

They  hauing  spent  much  time  in  these  discourses,  were  called  in 

to  Supper,  Philautus  more  willing  to  eate,  then  heare  their  tales,  was 

not  the  last  y*  went  in  :  where  being  all  set  downe,  they  were  serued 

al   in   earthen    dishes,   al   things   so   neat   and   cleanly,    that   they 

5  perceiued  a  kinde  of  courtly  Maiestie  in  the  minde  of  their  host, 

though  he  wanted  matter  to  shew  it  in  his  house.    Philautus  I  know 

not  whether  of  nature  melancholy,  or  feeling  loue  in  his  bosome, 

spake  scarce  ten  words  since  his  comming  into  the  house  of  Fidus^ 

which   the   olde   man   well    noting,    began    merily    thus    to  park 

jo  with  him. 

IMeruaile  Gentleman  that  all  this  time,  you  haue  bene  tongue 
tyed,  either  thinking  not  your  selfe  welcome,  or  disdayning  so 
homely  enterteinment :   in  the  one  you  doe  me  wrong,  for  I  thinke 
I  haue  not  shewed  my  selfe  straunge :  for  the  other  you  must  pardon 

15  me,  for  that  I  haue  not  to  do  as  I  would,  but  as  I  may  :  And 
though  England  be  no  grauge,  but  yeeldeth  euery  thing,  yet  is 
it  heere  as  in  euery  place,  al  for  money.  And  if  you  will  but  accept 
a  willing  minde  in  steede  of  a  costly  repast,  I  shall  thinke  my  selfe 
beholding  vnto  you :  and  if  time  serue,  or  my  Bees  prosper,  I  wil 

20  make  you  part  of  amends,  w*  a  better  breakfast. 

Philautus  thus  replyed  :  I  know  good  Father,  my  welcome  greater 
then  any  wayes  I  can  requite,  and  my  cheere  more  bountifull  then 
euer  I  shall  deserue,  and  though  I  seeme  silent  for  matters  that 
trouble  me,  yet  I  would  not  haue  you  thinke  me  so  foolish,  that 

25  I  should  either  disdaine  your  company,  or  mislyke  your  cheere,  of 
both  the  which  I  thinke  so  well,  that  if  time  might  aunswere  my  true 
meaning,  I  would  exceede  in  cost,  though  in  courtesie  I  know  not 
how  to  compare  with  you,  for  (without  flatterie  be  it  spoken)  if  the 
common  courtesie  of  Englande  be  no  worse  then  this  towarde 

3°  straungers,  I  must  needes  thinke  them  happy  that  trauaile  into  these 
coasts,  and  the  inhabitaunts  the  most  courteous,  of  all  countreyes. 

Heere  began  Euphues  to  take  the  tale  out  of  Philautus  mouth, 
and  to  play  with  him  in  his  melancholicke  moode,  beginning  thus. 

"M"  O  Father  I  durst  sweare  for  my  friend,  that  both  he  thinketh 

35  himselfe  welcome,  and  his  fare  good,  but  you  must  pardon 

a  young  courtier,  who  in  the  absence  of  his  Lady  thinketh  himselfe 

1-2  in  to]  into  AB          7  loue]  one  E  rest          9  parly  E  rest  16  Qy  ?  in 

before  England  but  cf.  note  19  or]  and  GE  rest  26  the  om.  H  rest 

29  towards  ABE  rest        33  melancholy  E  rest 


48  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

forlorne :  And  this  vile  Dog  Loue  will  so  ranckle  where  he  biteth, 
that  I  feare  my  friends  sore,  will  breed  to  a  Fistula :  for  you  may 
perceiue  that  he  is  not  where  he  Hues,  but  wher  he  loues,  and  more 
thoughts  hath  he  in  his  head,  then  you  Bees  in  your  Hiues :  and 
better  it  were  for  him  to  be  naked  among  your  Waspes,  though  his  5 
bodye  were  al  blistered,  then  to  haue  his  heart  stong  so  with  affection, 
where-by  he  is  so  blinded.  But  beleeue  mee  Fidus,  he  taketh  as 
great  delight  to  course  a  cogitacion  of  loue,  as  you  doe  to  vse  your 
time  with  Honny.  In  this  plight  hath  he  bene  euer  since  his 
comming  out  of  Naples,  and  so  hath  it  wrought  with  him  (which  10 
I  had  thought  impossible)  that  pure  loue  did  make  him  Seasicke, 
insomuch  as  in  all  my  trauaile  with  him,  I  seemed  to  euery  one  to 
beare  with  me  the  picture  of  a  proper  man,  but  no  liuing  person,  the 
more  pitie,  &  yet  no  force.  Philautus  taking  Euphues  tale  by  the 
ende,  &  the  olde  man  by  the  arme,  betweene  griefe  and  game,  iest  15 
and  earnest,  aunswered  him  thus. 

Vphues  would  dye  if  he  should  not  talke  of  loue  once  in  a  day, 
and  therfore  you  must  giue  him  leaue  after  euery  meale  to 
cloase  his  stomacke  with  Loue,  as  with  Marmalade,  and  I  haue 
heard,  not  those  that  say  nothing,  but  they  that  kicke  oftenest  20 
against  loue,  are  euer  in  loue :  yet  doth  he  vse  me  as  the  meane 
to  moue  the  matter,  and  as  the  man  to  make  his  Myrrour,  he 
himselfe  knowing  best  the  price  of  Corne,  not  by  the  Market  folkes, 
but  his  owne  foote-steppes.  But  if  he  vse  this  speach  either  to  make 
you  merry e,  or  to  put  me  out  of  conceipt,  he  doth  well,  you  must  25 
thanke  him  for  the  one,  and  I  wil  thinke  on  him  for  the  other. 
I  haue  oftentimes  sworne  that  I  am  as  farre  from  loue  as  he,  yet 
will  he  not  beleeue  me,  as  incredulous  as  those,  who  thinke  none 
balde,  till  they  see  his  braynes. 

As  Euphues  was  making  aunswere,  Fidus  preuented  him  in  this  30 
manner. 

r  I  "Here  is  no  harme  done  Philautus^  for  whether  you  loue,  or 
Euphues   iest,   this   shall  breed   no  iarre.      It  may  be   when 
I  was  as  young  as  you,  I  was  as  idle  as  you  (though  in  my  opinion, 
there  is  none  lesse  idle  then  a  louer.)     For  to  tell  the  truth,  I  35 
my  self  was  once  a  Courtier,  in  the  dayes  of  that  most  "noble  King 

6  ?o  om.  PI  rest  13  a  proper]  an  honest  E  rest  20  kickt  E  rest 

24  this]  his  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  49 

of  famous  memorie  Henry  the  eight,  Father  to  our  most  gratious 
Lady  Elizabeth. 

Where,  and  with  that  he  paused,  as  though  the  remembraunce 
of  his  olde  lyfe,  had  stopped  his  newe  speach,  but  Philautus  eytching 
5  to  hear  what  he  would  say,  desired  him  to  goe  forward,  vnto  whome 
Fidus  fetching  a  great  sigh  sayd,  I  will.  And  there  agayne  made 
a  full  poynt.  Philautus  burning  as  it  were,  in  desire  of  this  discourse, 
vrged  him  againe  with  great  entreatie :  then  the  olde  man  com- 
maunded  the  boorde  to  be  vncouered,  grace  being  sayd,  called  for 

10  stooles,  and  sitting  al  by  the  fire,  vttered  the  whole  discourse  of  his 
loue,  which  brought  Philautus  a  bedde,  and  Euphues  a  sleepe. 

And  now  Gentlemen,  if  you  will  giue  eare  to  the  tale  of  Fidus, 
it  may  be  some  will  be  as  watchfull  as  Philautus^  though  many  as 
drousie  as  Euphues.  And  thus  he  began  with  a  heauie  countenaunce 

15  (as  though  his  paines  were  present,  not  past)  to  frame  his  tale. 

I  Was  borne  in  the  wylde  of  £ent,  of  honest  Parents,  and  worship- 
full,  whose  tender  cares,  (if  the  fondnesse  of  parents  may  be  so 
termed)  prouided  all  things  euen  from  my  very  cradell,  vntil  their 
graues,  that  might  either  bring  me  vp  in  good  letters,  or  make  me 

20  heire  to  great  lyuings.  I  (with-out  arrogancie  be  it  spoken)  was  not 
inferiour  in  wit  to  manye,  which  rinding  in  my  selfe,  I  flattered  my 
selfe,  but  in  ye  ende,  deceiued  my  selfe  :  For  being  of  the  age  of  .xx. 
yeares,  there  was  no  trade  or  kinde  of  lyfe  that  either  fitted  my 
humour  or  serued  my  tourne,  but  the  Court :  thinking  that  place 

25  the  onely  meanes  to  clymbe  high,  and  sit  sure :  Wherin  I  followed 
the  vaine  of  young  Souldiours,  who  iudge  nothing  sweeter  then 
warre  til  they  feele  the  weight.  I  was  there  enterteined  as  well 
by  the  great  friends  my  father  made,  as  by  mine  own  forwardnesse, 
where  it  being  now  but  Honnie  Moone,  I  endeauoured  to  courte 

30  it  with  a  grace,  (almost  past  grace,)  laying  more  on  my  backe  then 
my  friendes  could  wel  beare,  hauing  many  times  a  braue  cloke  and 
a  thredbare  purse. 

Who  so  conuersant  with  the  Ladyes  as  I  ?  who  so  pleasaunt  ? 
who  more  prodigall  ?  In-somuch  as  I  thought  the  time  lost,  which 

35  was  not  spent  either  in  their  company  with  delight,  or  for  their 
company  in  letters.  Among  all  the  trpupe  of  gallant  Gentle-men, 
I  singled  out  one  (in  whome  I  mysliked  nothing  but  his  grauitie) 

i  eighth  H  4  itching  A  rest.  Qy  ?  aching          10  al  0m.  BE  rest          14 

a  om.  E  rest 

BOND  II  E 


50  EUPHUES  AND  HIS   ENGLAND 

that  aboue  all  I  meant  to  trust:  who  aswell  for  ye  good  qualities 
he  saw  in  me,  as  the  little  gouernment  he  feared  in  mee,  beganne 
one  night  to  vtter  these  fewe  wordes. 

Friend  Fidus  (if  Fortune  allow  a  tearm  so  familiar)  I  would  I  might 
liue  to  see  thee  as  wise,  as  I  percieue  thee  wittie,  then  should  thy  5 
life  be  so  seasoned,  as  neyther  too  much  witte  might  make  thee 
proude,  nor  too  great  ryot  poore.  My  acquaintaunce  is  not  great 
with  thy  person,  but  such  insight  haue  I  into  thy  conditions,  that 
I  feare  nothing  so  much,  as  that,  there  thou  catch  thy  fall,  where 
thou  thinkest  to  take  thy  rising.  Ther  belogeth  more  to  a  courtier  10 
then  brauery,  which  ye  wise  laugh  at,  or  persoage,  which  ye  chast 
mark  not,  or  wit,  which  the  most  part  see  not.  It  is  sober  &  discret 
behauiour,  ciuil  &  gentle  demeanor,  that  in  court  winneth  both  credit 
&  commoditie  :  which  counsel  thy  vnripened  yeares  thinke  to  pro- 
ceede  rather  of  the  malice  of  age,  then  the  good  meaning.  To  ryde  15 
well  is  laudable,  &  I  like  it,  to  runne  at  the  tilt  not  amisse,  and 
I  desire  it,  to  reuell  much  to  be  praised,  and  I  haue  vsed  it :  which 
thinges  as  I  know  them  all  to  be  courtly,  so  for  my  part  I  accompt 
them  necessary,  for  where  greatest  assemblies  are  of  noble  Gentle 
men,  there  should  be  the  greatest  exercise  of  true  nobilitie.  And  20 
I  am  not  so  presise,  but  that  I  esteeme  it  as  expedient  in  feates 
of  armes  and  actiuitie  to  employ  the  body,  as  in  study  to  wast  the 
minde  :  yet  so  should  the  one  be  tempered  with  the  other,  as  it  myght 
seeme  as  great  a  shame  to  be  valiaunt  and  courtly  with-out  learning, 
as  to  bee  studious  and  bookish  with-out  valure.  25 

But  there  is  an  other  thing  Fidus,  which  I  am  to  warn  thee  of, 
and  if  I  might  to  wreast  thee  from  :  not  that  I  enuy  thy  estate,  but 
that  I  would  not  haue  thee  forget  it.  Thou  vsest  too  much  (a  little 
I  thinke  to  bee  too  much)  to  dallye  with  woemen,  which  is  the  next 
way  to  doate  on  them  :  For  as  they  that  angle  for  the  Tortois,  hauing  30 
once  caught  him,  are  dryuen  into  such  a  lythernesse,  that  they  loose 
all  their  sprightes,  being  beenummed,  so  they  that  seeke  to  obtayne 
the  good-will  of  Ladyes,  hauing  once  a  little  holde  of  their  loue,  they 
are  driuen  into  such  a  traunce,  that  they  let  go  the  holde  of  their 
libertie,  bewitched  like  those  that  viewe  the  head  of  Medusa,  or  the  35 
Uiper  tyed  to  the  bough  of  the  Beech  tree,  which  keepeth  him  in 
a  dead  sleepe,  though  it  beginne  with  a  sweete  slumber.  I  my  selfe 
haue  tasted  new  wine,  and  finde  it  to  bee  more  pleasaunt  then  whol- 
some,  and  Grapes  gathered  before  they  bee  rype,  maye  set  the  eyes 

26  of]  off  AB  32  spirights  A  :  spirites  B  rest  37  it]  he  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND  HIS   ENGLAND  5r 

on  lust,  but  they  make  the  teeth  an  edge,  and  loue  desired  in  the 
budde,  not  knowing  what  the  blossome  were,  may  delight  the  con- 
ceiptes  of  the  head,  but  it  will  destroye  the  contemplature  of  the 
heart.  What  I  speake  now  is  of  meere  good-will,  and  yet  vpon  small 
5  presumption,  but  in  things  which  come  on  the  sodaine,  one  cannot 
be  too  warye  to  preuent,  or  too  curious  to  mystrust :  for  thou  art 
in  a  place,  eyther  to  make  thee  hated  for  vice,  or  loued  for  vertue, 
and  as  thou  reuerencest  the  one  before  the  other,  so  in  vprightnesse 
of  lyfe  shewe  it.  Thou  hast  good  friendes,  which  by  thy  lewde 

10  delights,  thou  mayst  make  great  enimies,  and  heauy  foes,  which  by 
thy  well  doing  thou  mayst  cause  to  be  earnest  abettors  of  thee,  in 
matters  that  nowe  they  canuasse  agaynst  thee. 

And  so  I  leaue  thee,  meaning  herafter  to  beare  the  reign  of  thy 
brydell  in  myne  hands :  if  I  see  thee  head  stronge :  And  so  he 

*5  departed. 

I  gaue  him  great  thanks,  and  glad  I  was  we  wer  parted  :  for  his 
putting  loue  into  my  minde,  was  like  the  throwing  of  Buglosse  into 
wine,  which  encreaseth  in  him  that  drinketh  it  a  desire  of  lust,  though 
it  mittigate  the  force  of  drunkennesse. 

20  I  now  fetching  a  windlesse,  that  I  myght  better  haue  a  shoote, 
was  preuented  with  ready  game,  which  saued  me  some  labour,  but 
gained  me  no  quiet.  And  I  would  gentlemen  y*  you  could  feel 
the  like  impressions  in  your  myndes  at  the  rehersall  of  my  mishappe, 
as  I  did  passions  at  the  entring  into  it.  If  euer  you  loued,  you 

25  haue  found  the  like,  if  euer  you  shall  loue,  you  shall  taste  no  lesse. 
But  he  so  eger  of  an  end,  as  one  leaping  ouer  a  stile  before  hee 
come  to  it,  desired  few  parentheses  or  digressions  or  gloses,  but  the 
text,  wher  he  him-self,  was  coting  in  the  margant.  Then  said  Fidus^ 
thus  it  fell  out. 

30  It  was  my  chaunce  (I  know  not  whether  chaunce  or  destinie)  that 
being  inuited  to  a  banket  where  many  Ladyes  were  and  too  many 
by  one,  as  the  end  tryed,  though  then  to  many  by  al  sauing  y*  one, 
as  I  thought,  I  cast  mine  eies  so  earnestly  vpon  hir,  y*  my  hart 
vowd  hir  the  mistris  of  my  loue,  and  so  fully  was  I  resolued  to 

35  prosecut  my  determination,  as  I  was  earnest  to  begin  it.      Now 

I  an]  on  E  rest  2-3  conceite  E  rest  3  contemplatiue  E  rest  n 

doing  well  E  rest  arbettors  AB  :  arbitrers  E  rest  1 2  they  now  E  rest 

13  rayn  AB ':  raine  EF\  reine  H  rest          17  into1]  in  E  rest          20  wine  glasse 
E  rest  23  my  om.  E  rest  25  euer  you  shall]  neuer  you  E  rest  no] 

the  1617  rest         26  he  i.  e.  Philautus  (Arb.)          27  glosses  H  rest          28  coat 
ing  AF\  quoting  H  rest  29  felll  M 

E  2 


52  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Gentlemen,  I  commit  my  case 'to  your  considerations,  being  wiser 
then  I  was  then,  and  somwhat  as  I  gesse  elder :  I  was  but  in  court 
a  nouice,  hauing  no  friende,  but  him  before  rehearsed,  whome  in 
such  a  matter  I  was  lyklier  to  finde  a  brydell,  then  a  spurre.  I  neuer 
before  that  tyme  could  imagin  what  loue  should  meane,  but  vsed  5 
the  tearm  as  a  flout  to  others,  which  I  found  now  as  a  feuer  in 
my  selfe,  neither  knowing  from  whence  the  occasion  should  arise, 
nor  where  I  might  seeke  the  remedy.  This  distresse  I  thought 
youth  would  haue  worne  out,  or  reason,  or  time,  or  absence,  or  if 
not  euery  one  of  them,  yet  all.  But  as  fire  getting  hould  in  the  10 
bottome  of  a  tree,  neuer  leaueth  till  it  come  to  the  toppe,  or  as 
stronge  poyson  Antidotum  being  but  chafed  in  the  hand,  pearceth 
at  the  last  the  hart,  so  loue  which  I  kept  but  low,  thinking  at  my 
will  to  leaue,  entred  at  the  last  so  farre  that  it  hdd  me  conquered. 
And  then  disputing  with  my  selfe,  I  played  this  on  the  bit.  J5 

Fidus,  it  standeth  thee  vppon  eyther  to  winne  thy  loue,  or  to 
weane  thy  affections,  which  choyce  is  so  hard,  that  thou  canst  not 
tel  whether  the  victory  wil  be  the  greater  in  subduing  thy  selfe,  or 
conquering  hir. 

To  loue  and  to  lyue  well  is  wished  of  many,  but  incident  to  fewe.  20 
To  Hue  and  to  loue  well  is  incident  to  fewe,  but  indifferent  to  all. 
To  loue  with-out  reason  is  an  argument  of  lust,  to  lyue  with-out 
loue,  a  token  of  folly.     The  measure  of  loue  is  to  haue  no  meane, 
the  end  to  be  euerlasting. 

2^hesius  had  no  neede  of  Ariadnes  threed  to  finde  the  way  into  25 
the  Laborinth,  but  to  come  out,  nor  thou  of  any  help  how  to  fal 
into  these  brakes,  but  to  fall  from  them.     If  thou  be  witched  with 
eyes,  weare  the  eie  of  a  wesill  in  a  ring,  which  is  an  enchauntment 
against  such  charmes,  and  reason  with  thy  self  whether  ther  be  more 
pleasure  to  be  accounted  amorous,  or  wise.     Thou  art  in  the  view  3° 
of  the  whole  court,  wher  the  ielous  wil  suspecteth  vppon  euery  light 
occasion,  where  of  the  wise  thou  shalt  be  accounted  fond,  &  of  the 
foolish  amorous :  the  Ladies  themselues,  how-soeuer  they  looke,  wil 
thus  imagine,  that  if  thou  take  thought  for  loue,  thou  art  but  a  foole, 
if  take  it  lyghtly,  no  true  seruaunt.     Besides  this  thou  art  to  be  35 
bounde  as  it  were  an  Apprentice  seruing  seauen  yeares  for  that, 

i  I  om.  E  rest        cause  E  rest          7  know  M  9  or1]  by  GE  rest          15 

this]  thus  E  rest  20  of  many  A-G:  of  myne  M\  to  many  E  rest  21  To 

loue  and  to  line  well  E  rest          25  Theseus  E  rest          27  bracks  M         witched] 
bewitched  GE  rest  28  eie]  eyes   GE  rest  31  wil  suspecteth  M-G\ 

will  suspect  E  rest  32  of2  om.  BGE 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  53 

which  if  thou  winne,  is  lost  in  seauen  houres,  if  thou  loue  thine 
equall,  it  is  no  conquest :  if  thy  superiour,  thou  shalt  be  enuyed : 
if  thine  inferiour,  laughed  at.  If  one  that  is  beautifull,  hir  colour 
will  chaunge  before  thou  get  thy  desire :  if  one  that  is  wise,  she  will 
5  ouer-reache  thee  so  farre,  that  thou  shalt  neuer  touch  hir  :  if  vertuous, 
she  will  eschue  such  fonde  affection,  if  one  deformed,  she  is  not 
worthy  of  any  affection :  if  she  be  rich,  she  needeth  thee  not :  if 
poore,  thou  needest  not  hir :  if  olde,  why  shouldest  thou  loue  hir, 
if  young,  why  should  she  loue  thee. 

10  Thus  Gentlemen  I  fed  my  selfe  with  mine  owne  deuices,  thinking 
by  peecemeale  to  cut  off  that  which  I  could  not  diminish :  for  the 
more  I  striued  with  reason  to  conquere  mine  appetite,  the  more 
against  reason,  I  was  subdued  of  mine  affections. 

At  the  last  calling  to  my  remembrance,  an  olde  rule  of  loue,  which 

15  a  courtier  then  tolde  me,  of  whom  when  I  demaunded  what  was  the 
first  thing  to  winne  my  Lady,  he  aunswered,  Opportunitie,  asking 
what  was  the  second,  he  sayd  Opportunitie :  desirous  to  know  what 
might  be  the  thirde,  he  replyed  Opportunitie.  Which  aunsweres 
I  marking,  as  one  that  thought  to  take  mine  ayme  of  so  cunning 

20  an  Archer,  coniectured  that  to  the  beginning,  cotinuing  and  ending 
of  loue,  nothing  could  be  more  conuenient  then  Opportunitie,  to 
the  getting  of  the  which  I  applyed  my  whole  studie,  &  wore  my  wits 
to  the  hard  stumpes,  assuring  my  selfe,  that  as  there  is  a  time,  when 
the  Hare  will  lycke  the  Houndes  eare,  and  the  fierce  Tigresse  play 

25  with  the  gentle  Lambe:  so  ther  was  a  certein  season,  when  women 
were  to  be  won,  in  the  which  moment  they  haue  neither  will  to  deny, 
nor  wit  to  mistrust. 

Such  a  time  I  haue  read  a  young  Gentleman  found  to  obtaine 
the  loue  of  the  Duchesse  of  Millayne :  such  a  time  I  haue  heard 

30  that  a  poore  yeoman  chose  to  get  the  fairest  Lady  in  Mantua. 

Unto  the  which  time,  I  trusted  so  much,  that  I  solde  the  skinne 
before  the  Beaste  was  taken,  reconing  with-out  mine  hoast,  and 
setting  downe  that  in  my  bookes  as  ready  money,  which  afterwards 
I  found  to  be  a  desperate  debt. 

35  T  T  chaunced  that  this  my  Lady  (whome  although  I  might  name 
\_  for  the  loue  I  bore  hir,  yet  I  will  not  for  the  reuerence  I  owe  hir, 
but  in  this  storye  call  hir  Iffidd]  for  to  recreate  hir  minde,  as  also  to 

3  thine]  thy  F rest  12  striued  so  all          20  and  G  rest:  an  MAB         23 

hard  om.  A  rest  26  were]  are  GE  rest  28  haue  I  E  rest 


54  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

solace  hir  body,  went  into  the  countrey,  where  she  determined  to 
make  hir  abode  for  the  space  of  three  moneths,  hauing  gotten  leaue 
of  those  that  might  best  giue  it.  And  in  this  iourney  I  founde  good 
Fortune  so  fauourable,  y*  hir  abiding  was  within  two  miles  of  my 
Fathers  mantion  house,  my  parents  being  of  great  familiaritie  with  5 
the  Gentleman,  where  my  Iffida  lay.  Who  now  so  fortunate  as 
Fidus  ?  who  so  fralicke  ?  She  being  in  ye  countrey,  it  was  no  being 
for  me  in  ye  court  ?  wher  euery  pastime  was  a  plague,  to  the  minde 
yt  lyued  in  melancholy.  For  as  the  Turtle  hauing  lost  hir  mate, 
wandreth  alone,  ioying  in  nothing,  but  in  solitarinesse,  so  poore  10 
Fidus  in  the  absence  of  Iffida  t  walked  in  his  chamber  as  one  not 
desolate  for  lacke  of  company,  but  desperate.  To  make  short  of  ye 
circumstaunces,  which  holde  you  too  long  from  that  you  would  heare, 
&  I  faine  vtter,  I  came  home  to  my  father,  wher  at  mine  entraunce, 
supper  being  set  on  the  table,  I  espyed  Iffida,  Iffida  Gentlemen,  15 
whom  I  found  before  I  sought,  and  lost  before  I  wonne.  Yet  least 
the  alteration  of  my  face,  might  argue  some  suspition  of  my  follyes, 
I,  as  courtly  as  I  could,  though  god  knowes  but  coursly,  at  that  time 
behaued  my  selfe,  as  though  nothing  payned  me,  when  in  truth 
nothing  pleased  me.  In  the  middle  of  supper,  Iffida  as  well  for  the  20 
acquaintance  we  had  in  court,  as  also  the  courtesie  she  vsed  in 
generall  to  all,  taking  a  glasse  in  hir  hand  filled  with  wine,  dranke 
to  me  in  this  wise.  Gentleman,  I  am  not  learned,  yet  haue  I  heard, 
that  the  Uine  beareth  three  grapes,  the  first  altereth,  the  second 
troubleth,  the  third  dulleth.  Of  what  Grape  this  Wine  is  made  25 
I  cannot  tell,  and  therefore  I  must  craue  pardon,  if  either  this 
draught  chaunge  you,  vnlesse  it  be  to  the  better,  or  grieue  you, 
except  it  be  for  greater  gaine,  or  dull  you,  vnlesse  it  be  your  desire, 
which  long  preamble  I  vse  to  no  other  purpose,  then  to  warne  you 
from  wine  heere-after,  being  so  well  counselled  before.  And  with  30 
that  she  drinking,  deliuered  me  the  glasse.  I  now  taking  heart  at 
grasse,  to  see  hir  so  gamesome,  as  merely  as  I  could,  pledged  hir  in 
this  manner. 

IT  is  pitie  Lady  you  want  a  pulpit,  hauing  preached  so  well  ouer 
the  pot,  wherin  you  both  shewe  the  learning,  which  you  pro-  35 
fesse  you  haue  not,  and  a  kinde  of  loue,  which  would  you  had :  the 

4  y*]  ye  E  7  frolicke  E  rest  being2]  abiding  E  rest  8  ye  ont. 

E  rest  14  Fathers  G  21  court]   crout  B  28  for  om.  E  rest 

32  merrily  G  rest  36  I  before  would  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  55 

one  appeareth  by  your  long  sermon,  the  other  by  the  desire  you 
haue  to  keepe  me  sober,  but  I  wil  refer  mine  answere  till  after 
supper,  and  in  the  meane  season,  be  so  temperate,  as  you  shall  not 
thinke  my  wit  to  smell  of  the  wine,  although  in  my  opinion,  such 
5  grapes  set  rather  an  edge  vpon  wit,  then  abate  the  point.  If  I  may 
speak  in  your  cast,  quoth  Iffida  (the  glasse  being  at  my  nose)  I  thinke, 
wine  is  such  a  whetstone  for  wit,  that  if  it  be  often  set  in  that  manner, 
it  will  quickly  grinde  all  the  steele  out,  &  scarce  leaue  a  back  wher 
it  found  an  edge. 

10  With  many  like  speaches  we  continued  our  supper,  which  I  will 
not  repeat,  least  you  should  thinke  vs  Epicures  to  sit  so  long  at  our 
meate  :  but  all  being  ended,  we  arose,  where  as  the  manner  is, 
thankes  and  cursie  made  to  each  other,  we  went  to  the  fire,  wher 
I  boldened  now,  with  out  blushing  tooke  hir  by  the  hand,  &  thus 

15  began  to  kindle  the  flame  which  I  shoulde  rather  haue  quenched, 
seeking  to  blow  a  cole,  when  I  should  haue  blowne  out  the  candle. 


Entlewoman  either  thou  thoughts  my  wits  verye  short,  y*  a  sippe 
of  wine  could  alter  me,  or  els  yours  very  sharpe,  to  cut  me  off 
so  roundly,  when  as  I  (without  offence  be  it  spoken)  haue  heard, 
20  that  as  deepe  drinketh  the  Goose  as  the  Gander. 

Gentleman  (quoth  she)  in  arguing  of  wittes,  you  mistake  mine, 
and  call  your  owne  into  question.  For  what  I  sayd  proceeded 
rather  of  a  desire  to  haue  you  in  health,  then  of  malyce  to  wish 
you  harme.  For  you  well  know,  that  wine  to  a  young  blood,  is  in 
25  the  spring  time,  Flaxe  to  fire,  &  at  all  times  either  vnwholsome,  or 
superfluous,  and  so  daungerous,  that  more  perish  by  a  surfet  then 
the  sword. 

I  haue  heard  wise  Clearkes  say,  that  Galen  being  asked  what  dyet 
he  vsed  that  he  lyued  so  long,  aunswered  :  I  haue  dronke  no  wine, 
30  I  haue  touched  no  woman,  I  haue  kept  my  selfe  warme. 

Now  sir,  if  you  will  lycence  me  to  proceede,  this  I  thought,  y*  if 
one  of  your  yeares  should  take  a  dram  of  Magis,  wherby  conse 
quently  you  shold  fal  to  an  ounce  of  loue,  &  then  vpon  so  great 
heat  take  a  little  colde,  it  were  inough  to  cast  you  away,  or  turne  you 
35  out  of  the  way.  And  although  I  be  no  Phisition,  yet  haue  I  bene 
vsed  to  attend  sicke  persons,  where  I  founde  nothing  to  hurt  them 

3  be]  to  bee  E  rest  4  the  om.  E  rest  13  curtesie  E  rest  being 

before  made  E  rest  14  wthout  M  17  you  thought  E  rest  22  in 

E  rest  sayd]  say:  £-1623  33  to]  into  BE  rest 


56  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

so  much  as  Wine,  which  alwayes  drew  with  it,  as  the  Adamant  doth 
the  yron,  a  desire  of  women  :  how  hurtfull  both  haue  bene,  though 
you  be  too  young  to  haue  tryed  it,  yet  you  are  olde  enough  to 
beleeue  it.  Wine  should  be  taken  as  the  Dogs  of  Egypt  drinke 
water,  by  snatches,  and  so  quench  their  thirst,  and  not  hynder  theyr  5 
running,  or  as  the  Daughters  of  Lysander  vsed  it,  who  with  a  droppe 
of  wine  tooke  a  spoonefull  of  water,  or  as  the  Uirgins  in  Rome,  whoe 
dryncke  but  theyr  eye  full,  contenting  them-selues  as  much  with  the 
sight,  as  the  taste. 

Thus  to  excuse  my  selfe  of  vnkindenesse,  you  haue  made  me  10 
almost  impudent,  and  I  you  (I  feare  mee)  impatient,  in  seeming  to 
prescribe  a  diette  wher  there  is  no  daunger,  giuing  a  preparatiue 
when  the  body  is  purged  :  But  seeing  all  this  talke  came  of  drinkeing, 
let  it  ende  with  drinking. 

1  seeing  my  selfe  thus  rydden,  thought  eyther  shee  should  sit  fast,  ifi- 
or  els  I  would  cast  hir.     And  thus  I  replyed. 

Lady,  you  thinke  to  wade  deepe  where  the  Foorde  is  but  shallow, 
and  to  enter  into  the  secretes  of  my  minde,  when  it  lyeth  open 
already,  wher-in  you  vse  no  lesse  art  to  bring  me  in  doubt  of  your 
good  wil,  then  craft  to  put  me  out  of  doubt,  hauing  bay  ted  your  20 
hooke  both  with  poyson  and  pleasure,  in  that,  vsing  the  meanes  of 
phisicke  (where-of  you  so  talke)  myngling  sweete  sirroppes  with 
bytter  dragges.  You  stand  in  feare  that  wine  should  inflame  my 
lyuer  and  conuert  me  to  a  louer  :  truely  I  am  framed  of  that  mettall, 
that  I  canne  mortifye  anye  affections,  whether  it  bee  in  dryncke  or  25 
desire,  so  that  I  haue  no  neede  of  your  playsters,  though  I-  must 
needes  giue  thankes  for  your  paynes. 

And  nowe  Philauttts,  for  I  see  Euphues  begynne  to  nodde,  thou 
shalt  vnderstand,  that  in  the  myddest  of  my  replye,  my  Father  with 
the  reste  of  the  companye,  interrupted  mee,  sayinge  they  woulde  all  3° 
fall  to  some  pastyme,  whiche  bycause  it  groweth  late  Philautus,  wee 
wyll  deferre  tyll  the  morning,  for  age  must  keepe  a  straight  dyot  or 
els  a  sickly  life. 

Philautus  tyckled  in  euerye  vaine  with  delyght,  was  loath  to  leaue 
so,  although  not  wylling  the  good  olde  manne  should  breake  his  35 
accustomed  houre,  vnto  whome  sleepe  was  the  chiefest  sustenaunce. 

2  a  cm.  B  rest  3  are]  be  E  rest  9  with  before  the  ABEF  12 
in  before  giuing  A  rest             18  my]  the  E  rest           21  that,  vsing]  y*  vsing  EF\ 
the  vsing  H  rest             22  mingled  E  rest             23  dregs  A-G :    dregges  E  rest 
30  the8]  yc  EF\  that  H  rest            30-1  fal  all  B  :  all  om.  E  rest           32  dyette 
G :  diet  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  57 

And  so  waking  Euphues^  who  hadde  taken  a  nappe,  they  all  went  to 
their  lodging,  where  I  thinke  Philautus  was  musing  vppon  the  euent 
of  Fidus  his  loue  :  But  there  I  will  leaue  them  in  their  beddes,  till 
the  next  morning. 


Entle-menne  and  Gentle-woemenne,  in  the  discourse  of  this  loue, 
it  maye  seeme  I  haue  taken  a  newe  course  :  but  such  was  the 
tyme  then,  that  it  was  straunge  to  loue,  as  it  is  nowe  common,  and 
then  lesse  vsed  in  the  Courte,  then  it  is  now  in  the  countrey  :  But 
hauing  respecte  to  the  tyme  past,  I  trust  you  will  not  condempne 
10  my  present  tyme,  who  am  enforced  to  singe  after  their  plaine-songe, 
that  was  then  vsed,  and  will  followe  heare-after  the  Crotchetts  that 
are  in  these  dayes  cunninglye  handled. 

For  the  mindes  of  Louers  alter  with  the  madde  moodes  of  the 
Musitions  :  and  so  much  are  they  within  fewe  yeares  chaunged,  that 
15  we  accompt  their  olde  wooing  and  singing  to  haue  so  little  cunning, 
that  we  esteeme  it  barbarous,  and  were  they  liuing  to  heare  our  newe 
quoyings,  they  woulde  iudge  it  to  haue  so  much  curiositie,  that  they 
would  tearme  it  foolish. 

In  the  time  of  Romulus  all  heades  were  rounded  of  his  fashion, 
20  in  the  time  of  Caesar  curled  of  his  manner.     When  Cyrus  lyued, 
euerye  one  praysed  the   hooked   nose,  and  when  hee  dyed,  they 
allowed  the  straight  nose. 

And  so  it  fareth  with  loue,  in  tymes  past  they  vsed  to  wooe  in 

playne  tearmes,  now  in  piked  sentences,  and  hee  speedeth  best,  that 

25  speaketh  wisest  :  euery  one  following  the  newest  waye,  which  is  not 

euer  the  neerest  way  :  some  going  ouer  the  stile  when  the  gate  is 

open,  and  other  keeping  the  right  beaten  path,   when  hee  maye 

crosse  ouer  better  by  the  fieldes.     Euery  one  followeth  his  owne 

fancie,  which  maketh  diuers  leape  shorte  for  want  of  good  rysinge, 

30  and  many  shoote  ouer  for  lacke  of  true  ayme. 

And  to  that  passe  it  is  come,  that  they  make  an  arte  of  that, 

which  was  woont  to  be  thought  naturall  :    And  thus  it  standeth, 

that  it  is  not  yet  determyned  whether  in  loue  Vlysses  more  preuailed 

with   his  wit,   or   Paris  with   his   personage,   or   Achilles   with    his 

35  prowesse. 

For  euerye  of  them  haue    Venus  by  the  hand,  and  they  are  all 
assured  and  certaine  to  winne  hir  heart. 

7  as  before  straunge  A  BE  rest  17  quoyings  so  all          24  picked  A  rest 

27  and  other  M  1630-36  :  an  other  AB  :  another  G  rest  36  hath  E  rest 


58  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

But  I  hadde  almost  forgotten  the  olde  manne,  who  vseth  not 
to  sleepe  compasse,  whom  I  see  with  Euphues  and  Philautus  now 
alreadye  in  the  garden,  readye  to  proceede  with  his  tale  :  which  if 
it  seeme  tedious,  wee  will  breake  of  againe  when  they  go  to 
dynner.  5 


calling  these  Gentle-men  vppe,  brought  them  into  his  garden, 
where  vnder  a  sweete  Arbour  of  Eglentine,  the  byrdes  recording 
theyr  sweete  notes,  hee  also  strayned  his  olde  pype,  and  thus 
beganne. 

Entle-menne,    yester-nyght   I  left   of  abruptlye,   and   therefore  10 
I  must  nowe  begynne  in  the  like  manner. 

My  Father   placed  vs  all   in  good  order,  requesting  eyther  by 
questions  to  whette  our  wittes,  or  by  stories  to  trye  our  memoryes, 
and  Iffyda  that  might  best  there  bee  bolde,  beeing  the  best  in  the 
company  e,  and  at  all  assay  es  too  good   for   me,  began   againe  to  15 
preach  in  this  manner. 

Thou  art  a  courtier  Fidus^  and  therefore  best  able  to  resolue  any 
question  :  for  I  knowe  thy  witte  good  to  vnderstand,  and  ready  to 
aunswere  :  to  thee  therfore  I  addresse  my  talke. 

HPHere  was  som-time  in  Sienna  a  Magnifico,  whom  God  blessed  20 

with  three  Daughters,  but  by  three  wiues,  and  of  three  sundrye 
qualities  :  the  eldest  was  verye  fayre,  but  a  very  foole  :  the  second 
meruailous  wittie,  but  yet  meruailous  wanton  :  the  third  as  vertuous 
as  any  liuing,  but  more  deformed  then  any  that  euer  lyued. 

The  noble  Gentle-man  their  father  disputed  for  the  bestowing  of  25 
them  with  him-selfe  thus. 

I  thank  the  Gods,  that  haue  giuen  me  three  Daughters,  who  in 
theyr  bosomes  carry  theyr  dowries,  in-somuch  as  I  shall  not  neede  to 
disburse  one  myte  for  all  theyr  marryages.  Maydens  be  they  neuer 
so  foolyshe,  yet  beeynge  fayre,  they  are  commonly  fortunate  :  for  30 
that  men  in  these  dayes,  haue  more  respect  to  the  out  ward  show 
then  the  inward  substance,  where-in  they  imitate  good  Lapidaryes, 
who  chuse  the  stones  that  delyght  the  eye,  measuring  the  value 
not  by  the  hidden  vertue,  but  by  the  outwarde  glistering  :  or 

7  the]  be  M  n  nowe  om.  BE  rest  the  like]  like  G:  this  E  rest 

23  yet  om.  E  rest          26  with  him-selfe  om.  E  rest         27  thank  .  .  .  that]  thinck 
the  Gods  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  59 

wise  Painters,   who    laye  their    best    coulours,   vpon    their    worst 
counterfeite. 

And  in  this  me  thinketh  Nature  hath  dealt  indifferently,  that  a 
foole  whom  euery  one  abhorreth,  shoulde  haue  beautie,  which  euery 
5  one  desireth  :  that  the  excellencie  of  the  one  might  excuse  the 
vanitie  of  the  other  :  for  as  we  in  nothing  more  differ  from  the  Gods, 
then  when  we  are  fooles,  so  in  nothing  doe  we  come  neere  them 
so  much,  as  when  we  are  amiable.  This  caused  Helen  to  be 
snatched  vp  for  a  Starre,  and  Ariadne  to  be  placed  in  the  Heauens, 

10  not  that  they  were  wise,  but  faire,  fitter  to  adde  a  Maiestie  to  the 
Skie,  then  beare  a  Maiestie  in  Earth.  luno  for  all  hir  iealousie, 
beholding  /<?,  wished  to  be  no  Goddesse,  so  she  might  be  so  gallant. 
Loue  commeth  in  at  the  eye,  not  at  the  eare,  by  seeing  Natures 
workes,  not  by  hearing  womens  words.  And  such  effects  and 

15  pleasure  doth  sight  bring  vnto  vs,  that  diuers  haue  lyued  by  looking 
on  faire  and  beautifull  pictures,  desiring  no  meate,  nor  harkning  to 
any  Musick.  What  made  the  Gods  so  often  to  trewant  from 
Heauen,  and  mych  heere  on  earth,  but  beautie  ?  What  made  men 
to  imagine,  that  the  Firmament  was  God  but  the  beautie?  which 

20  is  sayd  to  bewitch  the  wise,  and  enchaunt  them  that  made  it. 
Pigmalion  for  beautie,  loued  an  Image  of  luory,  Appelles  the 
counterfeit  of  Campaspe,  and  none  we  haue  heard  off  so  sence- 
lesse,  that  the  name  of  beautie,  cannot  either  breake  or  bende.  It 
is  this  onely  that  Princes  desire  in  their  Houses,  Gardeins,  Orchards, 

25  and  Beddes,  following  Alexander,  who  more  esteemed  the  face  of 
Venus,  not  yet  finished,  then  the  Table  of  the  nyne  Muses  perfected. 
And  I  am  of  that  minde  that  there  can  be  nothing  giuen  vnto 
mortall  men  by  the  immortall  Gods,  eyther  more  noble  or  more 
necessary  then  beautie.  For  as  when  the  counterfeit  of  Ganimedes, 

3°  was  showen  at  a  market,  euery  one  would  faine  buye  it,  bicause 
Zeuxis  had  there-in  shewed  his  greatest  cunning  :  so  when  a  beauti 
full  woman  appeareth  in  a  multitude,  euery  man  is  drawne  to  sue 
to  hir,  for  that  the  Gods  (the  onely  Painters  of  beautie)  haue  in  hir 
expressed,  the  art  of  their  Deitie.  But  I  wil  heere  rest  my  selfe, 

35  knowing  that  if  I  should  runne  so  farre  as  Beautie  would  carry 
me,  I  shoulde  sooner  want  breath  to  tell  hir  praises,  then  matter 


10  to2]  in  E  rest  12  beeheld  E  rest         14  effects  MAB\fa$  \  affects  GE- 

1617,   1630-36  18  mich  GE\  miche  F  'rest                 19  the2  om.  GE  rest 

21  an]  the  E  rest  25  and]  or  E  rest            26  perfcted  M             31   Zuexis 
MA  :  Zeuxes  E  rest 


60  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

to  proue  them,  thus  I  am  pers waded,  yfc  my  faire  daughter  shal  be 
wel  maryed,  for  there  is  none,  that  will  or  can  demaund  a  greater 
ioynter  then  Beautie. 

My  second  childe  is  wittie,  but  yet  wanton,  which  in  my  minde, 
rather  addeth  a  delyght  to  the  man,  then  a  disgrace  to  the  mayde,  5 
and  so  lynked  are  those  two  qualyties  together,  that  to  be  wanton 
without  wit,  is  Apishnes :  &  to  be  thought  wittie  without  wantrfhnes, 
precisenesse.     When  Lais  being  very  pleasaunt,  had  told  a  merry 
iest :  It  is  pitie  sayde  Aristippus,  that  Lais  hauing  so  good  a  wit, 
should  be  a  wanton.     Yea  quoth  Lais,  but  it  were  more  pitie,  that  10 
Lais  shoulde  be  a  wanton  and  haue  no  good  wit.     Osyris  King  of  the 
AegyptianS)  being  much  delyghted  with  pleasaunt  conceipts,  would 
often  affirme,  that  he  had  rather  haue  a  virgin,  that  could  giue 
a  quicke  aunswere  that  might  cut  him,  then  a  milde  speach  that 
might  claw  him.     When  it  was  obiected  to  a  gentlewoman,  yt  she  15 
was  neither  faire  nor  fortunate,  &  yet  quoth  she,  wise  &  wel  fauoured, 
thinking  it  the  chiefest  gift  y*  Nature  could  bestow,  to  haue  a  Nut- 
browne  hue,  and  an  excellent  head.     It  is  wit  y*  allureth,  when  euery 
word  shal  haue  his  weight,  whe  nothing  shal  proceed,  but  it  shal 
either  sauour  of  a  sharpe  conceipt,  or  a  secret  conclusion.     And  this  20 
is   the  greatest  thing,   to  conceiue  readely  and  aunswere  aptly,  to 
vnderstand  whatsoeuer  is  spoken,  &  to  reply  as  though  they  vnder- 
stoode  nothing.     A  Gentleman  yfc  once  loued  a  Lady  most  entirely, 
walking  with  hir  in  a  parke,  with  a  deepe  sigh  began  to  say,  O  yfc 
women  could  be  constant,  she  replyed,  O  yt  they  could  not,  Pulling  25 
hir  hat  ouer  hir  head,  why  quoth  the  gentleman  doth  the  Sunne 
offend  your  eyes,  yea,  aunswered  she  the  sonne  of  your  mother, 
which  quicke  &  ready  replyes,  being  well  marked  of  him,  he  was 
enforced   to    sue    for  yfc  which  he  was  determined    to    shake    off. 
A  noble  man  in  Sienna,  disposed  to  iest  w*  a  gentlewoman  of  meane  30 
birth,  yet  excellet  qualities,  between  game  &  earnest  gan  thus  to 
salute  hir.     I  know  not  how  I  shold  corned  your  beautie,  bicause  it 
is  somwhat  to  brown,  nor  your  stature  being  somwhat  to  low,  &  of 
your  wit  .1  ca  not  iudge,  no  quoth  she,  I  beleue  you,  for  none  ca 
iudge  of  wit,  but   they  that   haue  it,  why  then    quoth   he,  doest  35 
thou  thinke  me  a  foole,  thought  is  free  my  Lord  quoth  she,  I  wil 
not  take  you  at  your  word.     He   perceiuing   al  outward  faults  to 
be  recopenced  with  inward  fauour,  chose  this  virgin  for  his  wife. 

2  will  or  can]  can  or  will  E  rest  6  be]  the  .£-1623  15  him  om.  E  rest 

30  gentlewoman]  gentleman  E  33  to1]  too  ABG\  om.  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  61 

And  in  my  simple  opinion,  he  did  a  thing  both  worthy  his  stocke 
and  hir  vertue.  It  is  wit  that  flourisheth,  when  beautie  fadeth  :  that 
waxeth  young  when  age  approcheth,  and  resembleth  the  luie  leafe, 
who  although  it  be  dead,  continueth  greene.  And  bicause  of  all 
5  creatures,  the  womans  wit  is  most  excellent,  therefore  haue  the  Poets 
fained  the  Muses  to  be  women,  the  Nimphes,  the  Goddesses :  en- 
samples  of  whose  rare  wisedomes,  and  sharpe  capacities  would 
nothing  but  make  me  commit  Idolatry  with  my  daughter. 

1  neuer  heard  but  of  three  things  which  argued  a  fine  wit,  Inuen- 
10  tion,  Conceiuing,  Aunswering.      Which   haue   all   bene  found   so 

common  in  women,  that  were  it  not  I  should  flatter  the,  I  should 
think  the  singular. 

Then  this  sufficeth  me,  that  my  seconde  daughter  shall  not  lead 
Apes  in  Hell,  though  she  haue  not  a  penny  for  the  Priest,  bicause 

15  she  is  wittie,  which  bindeth  weake  things,  and  looseth  strong  things, 
and  worketh  all  things,  in  those  that  haue  either  wit  themselues,  or 
loue  wit  in  others. 

My  youngest  though  no  pearle  to   hang  at   ones  eare,  yet   so 
precious  she  is  to  a  well  disposed  minde,  that  grace  seemeth  almost 

ao  to  disdaine  Nature.  She  is  deformed  in  body,  slowe  of  speache, 
crabbed  in  countenaunce,  and  almost  in  all  parts  crooked :  but  in 
behauiour  so  honest,  in  prayer  so  deuout,  so  precise  in  al  hir 
dealings,  that  I  neuer  heard  hir  speake  anye  thing  that  either  con 
cerned  not  good  instruction,  or  godlye  mirth. 

25  Who  neuer  delyghteth  in  costly  apparell,  but  euer  desireth  homely 
attire,  accompting  no  brauery  greater  then  vertue :  who  beholding 
hir  vglye  shape  in  a  glasse,  smilyng  sayd :  This  face  were  faire,  if  it 
were  tourned,  noting  that  the  inward  motions  would  make  the  out 
ward  fauour  but  counterfeit.  For  as  ye  precious  stone  Sandastra, 

30  hath  nothing  in  outward  appearaunce  but  that  which  seemeth 
blacke,  but  being  broken  poureth  forth  beames  lyke  the  Sunne :  so 
vertue  sheweth  but  bare  to  the  outward  eye,  but  being  pearced  with 
inward  desire,  shineth  lyke  Christall.  And  this  dare  I  auouch  y*  as 
the  Trogloditcz  which  digged  in  the  filthy  ground  for  rootes,  and 

35  found  the  inestimable  stone  Topason,  which  inriched  them  euer 
after :  so  he  that  seeketh  after  my  youngest  daughter,  which  is 
deformed,  shall  finde  the  great  treasure  of  pietie,  to  comfort  him 
during  his  lyfe.  Beautifull  women  are  but  lyke  the  Ermine,  whose 

2  wit]  it  E  rest  6  Goddesse  M  9  which]  that  E  rest  10  all] 
also  E  rest            27  shape]  face  E  rest 


62  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

skinne  is  desired,  whose  carcasse  is  dispised,  the  vertuous  contrari 
wise,  are  then  most  lyked,  when  theyr  skinne  is  leaste  loued. 

Then  ought  I  to  take  least  care  for  hir,  whom  euerye  one  that  is 
honest  will  care  for :    so  that  I  will  quiet  my  self  with  this  perswa- 
sion,  that  euery  one  shal  haue  a  wooer  shortly.     Beautie  cannot  Hue  5 
with-out  a  husband,  wit  will  not,  vertue  shall  not. 

IVTOw   Gentleman,  I    haue   propounded   my  reasons,    for   euery 
one  I  must  now  aske  you  the  question.     If  it  were  your 
chaunce  to  trauaile  to  Sienna,  and  to  see  as  much  there  as  I  haue 
tolde  you  here,  whether  would  you  chuse  for  your  wife  the  faire  10 
foole,  the  witty  wanton,  or  the  crooked  Saint. 

When  shee  had  finished,  I  stoode  in  a  maze,  seeing  three  hookes 
layed  in  one  bayte,  vncertaine  to  aunswere  what  myght  please  hir, 
yet  compelled  to  saye  some-what,  least  I  should  discredit  my  selfe : 
But  seeing  all  were  whist  to  heare  my  iudgement,  I  replyed  thus.  15 

TAdye  Iffyda^  and  Gentle-woemenne  all,  I  meane  not  to  trauayle  to 
"*-~*  Sienna  to  wooe  Beautie,  least  in  comming  home  the  ayre 
chaunge  it,  and  then  my  labour  bee  lost :  neyther  to  seeke  so  farre 
for  witte,  least  shee  accompt  me  a  foole,  when  I  myght  speede  as 
well  neerer  hande :  nor  to  sue  to  Uertue,  least  in  Italy  I  be  infected  20 
with  vice :  and  so  looking  to  gette  lupiter  by  the  hand,  I  catch 
Pluto  by.  the  heele. 

But  if  you  will  imagaine  that  great  Magnifico  to  haue  sent  his 
three  Daughters  into  England,  I  would  thus  debate  with  the  before 
I  would  bargin  with  the.  25 

I  loue  Beautie  wel,  but  I  could  not  finde  in  my  hart  to  marry 
a  foole  :  for  if  she  be  impudent  I  shal  not  rule  hir  :  and  if  she  be 
obstinate,  she  will  rule  me,  and  my  selfe  none  of  the  wisest,  me 
thinketh  it  were  no  good  match,  for  two  fooles  in  one  bed  are  too 
many.  30 

Witte  of  all  thinges  setteth  my  fancies  on  edge,  but  I  should 
hardly  chuse  a  wanton  :  for  be  she  neuer  so  wise,  if  alwayes  she  want 
one  when  she  hath  me,  I  had  as  leife  she  should  want  me  too,  for  of 
all  my  apparell  I  woulde  haue  my  cappe  fit  close. 

Uertue  I  cannot  mislike,  which  hether-too  I  haue  honoured,  but  35 
such  a  crooked  Apostle  I  neuer  brooked  :  for  vertue  may  well  fatte 
my  minde,  but  it  will  neuer  feede  mine  eie,  &  in  manage,  as  market 

9  to3]  so  E  20  to2]  for  E  rest  31  fancy  E  rest          33  should]  would 

£-1623          of  om.  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  63 

folkes  tel  me,  the  husband  should  haue  two  eies,  &  the  wife  but  one  : 
but  in  such  a  match  it  is  as  good  to  haue  no  eye,  as  no  appetite. 

But  to  aunswere  of  three  inconueniences,  which  I  would  chuse 
(although  each  threaten  a  mischiefe)  I  must  needes  take  the  wise 
5  wanton  :  who  if  by  hir  wantonnesse  she  will  neuer  want  wher  she 
likes,  yet  by  hir  wit  she  will  euer  conceale  whom  she  loues,  &  to 
weare  a  home  and  not  knowe  it,  will  do  me  no  more  harme  then  to 
eate  a  flye,  and  not  see  it. 

IJfyda  I  know  not  whether  stong  with  mine  answer,  or  not  content 

10  with  my  opinio,  replied  in  this  maner. 

Then  Fidus  when  you  match,  God  send  you  such  a  one,  as  you 
like  best :  but  be  sure  alwaies,  that  your  head  be  not  higher  then 
your  hat.  And  thus  faining  an  excuse  departed  to  hir  lodging,  which 
caused  al  the  company  to  breake  off  their  determined  pastimes, 

15  leauing  me  perplexed  with  a  hundred  contrary  imaginations. 

For  this  Philautus  thought  I,  that  eyther  I  did  not  hit  the  question 
which  she  would,  or  that  I  hit  it  too  full  against  hir  will :  for  to  saye 
the  trueth,  wittie  she  was  and  some-what  merrie,  but  God  knoweth 
so  farre  from  wantonnesse,  as  my  selfe  was  from  wisdome,  and  I  as 

20  farre  from  thinking  ill  of  hir,  as  I  found  hir  from  taking  me  well. 

Thus  all  night  tossing  in  my  bedde,  I  determined  the  next  daye,  if 
anye  opportunitie  were  offered,  to  offer  also  my  importunate  seruice. 
And  found  the  time  fitte,  though  hir  minde  so  froward,  that  to 
thinke  of  it  my  heart  throbbeth,  and  to  vtter  it,  wil  bleede  freshly. 

25  The  next  daye  I  comming  to  the  gallery  where  she  was  solitary ly 
walking,  wfc  hir  frowning  cloth,  as  sick  lately  of  the  solens,  vnder- 
standing  my  father  to  bee  gone  on  hunting,  and  al  other  the 
Gentlewomen  either  walked  abrod  to  take  the  aire,  or  not  yet  redy 
to  come  out  of  their  chambers,  I  aduentured  in  one  ship  to  put  all 

30  my  wealth,  and  at  this  time  to  open  my  long  conceled  loue,  deter 
mining  either  to  be  a  Knight  as  we  saye,  or  a  knitter  of  cappes. 
And  in  this  manner  I  vttered  my  first  speach. 

T  Ady,  to  make  a  long  preamble  to  a  short  sute,  wold  seeme  super 
fluous,  and  to  beginne  abruptly  in  a  matter  of  great  waight, 

35  might  be  thought  absurde  :  so  as  I  am  brought  into  a  doubt  whether 
I  should  offend  you  with  too  many  wordes,  or  hinder  my  selfe  with 
too  fewe.  She  not  staying  for  a  longer  treatise  brake  me  of  thus 
roundly. 

15  an  E-H  21  tossed  E  rest  26  of]  on  E  rest  sullens  A  rest 

28  abroad  A  rest  30-1  determined  GE  rest 


64  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Gentle-man  a  short  sute  is  soone  made,  but  great  matters  not  easily 
graunted,  if  your  request  be  reasonable  a  word  wil  serue,  if  not, 
a  thousand  wil  not  suffice.  Therfore  if  ther  be  any  thing  that  I  may 
do  you  pleasure  in,  see  it  be  honest,  and  vse  not  tedious  discourses 
or  colours  of  retorick,  which  though  they  be  thought  courtly,  yet  are  5 
they  not  esteemed  necessary  :  for  the  purest  Emeraud  shineth 
britest  when  it  hath  no  oyle,  and  trueth  delighteth  best,  when  it  is 
apparayled  worst. 

Then  I  thus  replyed. 

"T^Ayre  Lady  as  I  know  you  wise,  so  haue  I  found  you  curteous,  10 

which  two  qualities  meetig  in  one  of  so  rare  beautie,  must 
forshow  some  great  meruaile,  and  workes  such  effectes  in  those, 
that  eyther  haue  heard  of  your  prayse,  or  scene  your  person,  y*  they 
are  enforced  to  offer  them-selues  vnto  your  seruice,  among  the 
number  of  which  your  vassalles,  I  though  least  worthy,  yet  most  15 
willing,  am  nowe  come  to  proffer  both  my  life  to  do  you  good,  and 
my  lyuinges  to  be  at  your  commaund,  which  franck  offer  proceeding 
of  a  faythfull  mynde,  can  neyther  be  refused  of  you,  nor  misliked. 
And  bicause  I  would  cut  of  speaches  which  might  seeme  to  sauor 
either  of  flattery,  or  deceipte,  I  conclude  thus,  that  as  you  are  the  20 
first,  vnto  whome  I  haue  vowed  my  loue,  so  you  shall  be  the  last, 
requiring  nothing  but  a  friendly  acceptaunce  of  my  seruice,  and 
good-will  for  the  rewarde  of  it. 

Iffyda  whose  right  eare  beganne  to  gloe,  and  both  whose  cheekes 
waxed  read,  eyther  with  choler,  or  bashfulnesse,  tooke  me  vp  thus  25 
for  stumbling. 


Entle-man  you  make  me  blush  as  much  for  anger  as  shame, 
that  seeking  to  prayse  me,  &  proffer  your  selfe,  you  both 
bring  my  good  name  into  question,  and  your  ill  meaning  into 
disdaine  :  so  that  thinking  to  present  me  with  your  hart,  you  haue  30 
thrust  into  my  hands  the  Serpent  Amphisbena,  which  hauing  at  ech 
ende  a  sting,  hurteth  both  wayes.  You  tearme  me  fayre,  and  ther-in 
you  flatter,  wise  and  there-in  you  meane  wittie,  curteous  which  in 
other  playne  words,  if  you  durst  haue  vttered  it,  you  would  haue 
named  wanton.  35 

Haue  you  thought  me  Fidus,  so  light,  that  none  but  I  could  fit 

2  reasoble  M  4  honost  M  5  cuolors  M  6  Emerauld  BG  : 

Emerald  E  rest  7  best  om.  BE  rest  \  2  workes  such  effect  G  :  work 

such  effect  E  rest  25  redde  B  rest  29  into1]  in  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  65 

your  loosenesse  ?  or  am  I  the  wittie  wanton  which  you  harped  vpon 
yester-night,  that  would  alwayes  giue  you  the  stynge  in  the  head? 
you  are  much  deceyued  in  mee  Fidus,  and  I  as  much  in  you  :  for 
you  shall  neuer  finde  me  for  your  appetite,  and  I  had  thought  neuer 
5  to  haue  tasted  you  so  vnplesant  to  mine.  If  I  be  amiable,  I  will 
doe  those  things  that  are  fit  for  so  good  a  face  :  if  deformed,  those 
things  which  shall  make  me  faire.  And  howsoeuer  I  lyue,  I  pardon 
your  presumption,  knowing  it  to  be  no  lesse  common  in  Court  then 
foolish,  to  tell  a  faire  tale,  to  a  foule  Lady,  wherein  they  sharpen 

10  I  confesse  their  wittes,  but  shewe  as  I  thinke  small  wisedome,  and 
you  among  the  rest,  bicause  you  would  be  accompted  courtly,  haue 
assayed  to  feele  the  veyne  you  cannot  see,  wherein  you  follow  not 
the  best  Phisitions,  yet  the  most,  who  feeling  the  pulses,  doe  alwayes 
say,  it  betokeneth  an  Ague,  and  you  seeing  my  pulses  beat  pleasauntly, 

15  iudge  me  apte  to  fall  into  a  fooles  Feuer  :  which  leaste  it  happen 
to  shake  mee  heere-after,  I  am  minded  to  shake  you  off  now,  vsing 
but  one  request,  wher  I  shold  seeke  oft  to  reuenge,  that  is,  that  you 
neuer  attempt  by  word  or  writing  to  sollicite  your  sute,  which  is  no 
more  pleasaunt  to  me,  then  the  wringing  of  a  streight  shoe. 

20  When  she  had  vttered  these  bitter  words,  she  was  going  into  hir 
chamber  :  but  I  that  now  had  no  staye  of  my  selfe,  began  to  staye 
hir,  and  thus  agayne  to  replye. 

IPerceiue  Iffida  that  where  the  streame  runneth  smoothest,  the 
water  is  deepest,  and  where  the  least  smoake  is,  there  to  be  the 
25  greatest  fire:  and  wher  the  mildest  countenaunce  is,  there  to  be 
the  melancholiest  conceits.    I  sweare  to  thee  by  the  Gods,  and  there 
she  interrupted  me  againe,  in  this  manner. 


the  more  you  sweare,  the  lesse  I  beleeue  you,  for  that  it  is 
a  practise  in  Loue,  to  haue  as  little  care  of  their  owne  oathes, 
30  as  they  haue  of  others  honors,  imitating  lupiter,  who  neuer  kept 
oath  he  swore  to  Iunoy  thinking  it  lawfull  in  loue  to  haue  as  small 
regard  of  Religion,  as  he  had  of  chastitie.     And  bicause  I  wil  not 
feede  you  with  delayes,  nor  that  you  should  comfort  your  selfe  with 
tryall,  take  this  for  a  flatte  aunswere,  that  as  yet  I  meane  not  to  loue 
35  any,  and  if  I  doe,  it  is  not  you,  &  so  I  leaue  you.     But  once  againe 

2  yesterdaie  F  rest        head]  hand  E  rest          7  which  shall]  y*  should  E  rest 
12  assayed]  assailed  E-H\  assoiled  1617-36  14  pleasauntly  so  all.    ^-1623 

place  the  comma  at  beat  32  chastitie]  charitie  E 

BOND  II  F 


66  EUPHUES  AND  HIS   ENGLAND 

I  stayed  hir  steppes  being  now  throughly  heated  as  well  with  loue 
as  with  cholar,  and  thus  I  thundered. 

IF  I  had  vsed  the  polycie  that  Hunters  doe,  in  catching  of  Hiena^ 
it  might  be  also,  I  had  now  won  you :  but  coming  of  the  right 
side,  I  am  entangled  my  selfe,  &  had  it  ben  on  ye  left  side,  I  shold  5 
haue  inueigled  thee.  Is  this  the  guerdon  for  good  wil,  is  this  ye 
courtesie  of  Ladies,  the  lyfe  of  Courtiers,  the  foode  of  louers  ?  Ah 
Iffida,  little  dost  thou  know  the  force  of  affection,  &  therfore  thou 
rewardest  it  lightly,  neither  shewing  curtesie  lyke  a  Louer,  nor  giuing 
thankes  lyke  a  Ladye.  If  I  should  compare  my  bloud  with  thy  10 
birth,  I  am  as  noble :  if  my  wealth  with  thine,  as  rich :  if  confer 
qualities,  not  much  inferiour :  but  in  good  wil  as  farre  aboue  thee, 
as  thou  art  beyond  me  in  pride. 

Doest  thou  disdaine  me  bicause  thou  art  beautiful  ?  why  coulours 
fade,  when  courtesie  flourisheth.  Doest  thou  reiect  me  for  that  thou  15 
art  wise  ?  why  wit  hauing  tolde  all  his  cardes,  lacketh  many  an  ace 
of  wisedome,  But  this  is  incident  to  women  to  loue  those  that  least 
care  for  them,  and  to  hate  those  that  most  desire  them,  making 
a  stake  of  that,  which  they  should  vse  for  a  stomacher. 

And  seeing  it  is  so,  better  lost  they  are  with  a  lyttle  grudge,  then  20 
found  with  much  griefe,  better  solde  for  sorrow,  then  bought  for 
repentaunce,  and  better  to  make  no  accompt  of  loue,  then  an 
occupation :  Wher  all  ones  seruice  be  it  neuer  so  great  is  neuer 
thought  inough,  when  were  it  neuer  so  lyttle,  it  is  too  much.  When 
I  had  thus  raged,  she  thus  replyed.  25 

"V^Idus  you  goe  the  wrong  way  to  the  Woode,  in  making  a  gappe, 
when  the  gate  is  open,  or  in  seeking  to  enter  by  force,  when 
your  next  way  lyeth  by  fauor.  Where-in  you  follow  the  humour  of 
Aiax>  who  loosing  Achilles  shielde  by  reason,  thought  to  winne  it 
againe  by  rage :  but  it  fell  out  with  him  as  it  doth  commonly,  with  30 
all  those  yfc  are  cholaricke,  that  he  hurt  no  man  but  himself,  neither 
haue  you  moued  any  to  offece  but  your  selfe.  And  in  my  minde, 
though  simple  be  the  comparison,  yet  seemely  it  is,  that  your  anger 
is  lyke  the  wrangling  of  children,  who  when  they  cannot  get  what 
they  would  haue  by  playe,  they  fall  to  crying,  &  not  vnlyke  the  vse  35 
of  foule  gamesters,  who  hauing  lost  the  maine  by  true  iudgement, 

9  nor]  or  E  rest          16  lacked  E  rest         19  stake]  stacke  A  rest         20  a  om. 
E  rest  29  treason  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  67 

thinke  to  face  it  out  with  a  false  oath,  and  you  missing  of  my  loue, 
which  you  required  in  sport,  determine  to  hit  it  by  spite.  If  you 
haue  a  commission  to  take  vp  Ladyes,  lette  me  see  it :  if  a  priuiledge, 
let  me  know  it :  if  a  custome,  I  meane  to  breake  it. 
5  You  talke  of  your  birth,  when  I  knowe  there  is  no  difference  of 
blouds  in  a  basen,  and  as  lyttle  doe  I  esteeme  those  that  boast 
of  their  auncestours,  and  haue  themselues  no  vertue,  as  I  doe  of 
those  that  crake  of  their  loue,  and  haue  no  modestie.  I  knowe 
Nature  hath  prouided,  and  I  thinke  our  lawes  allow  it,  that  one  maye 

10  loue  when  they  see  their  time,  not  that  they  must  loue  when  others 
appoint  it. 

Where-as  you  bring  in  a  rabble  of  reasons,  as  it  were  to  bynde 
mee  agaynst  my  will,  I  aunswere  that  in  all  respectes  I  thinke  you 
so  farre  to  excell  mee,  that  I  cannot  finde  in  my  heart  to  matche 

15  with  you. 

For  one  of  so  great  good  will  as  you  are,  to  encounter  with  one  of 
such  pride  as  I  am,  wer  neither  commendable  nor  conuenient,  no 
more  then  a  patch  of  Fustian  in  a  Damaske  coat. 

As  for  my  beautie  &  wit,  I  had  rather  make  them  better  then  they 

20  are,  being  now  but  meane,  by  vertue,  then  worse  then  they  are,  which 
woulde  then  be  nothing,  by  Loue. 

Now  wher-as  you  bring  in  (I  know  not  by  what  proofe,  for 
I  thinke  you  were  neuer  so  much  of  womens  counsells)  that  there 
women  best  lyke,  where  they  be  least  beloued,  then  ought  (you)  the 

25  more  to  pitie  vs,  not  to  oppresse  vs,  seeing  we  haue  neither  free  will 
to  chuse,  nor  fortune  to  enioy.  Then  Fidus  since  your  eyes  are  so 
sharpe,  that  you  cannot  onely  looke  through  a  Milstone,  but  cleane 
through  the  minde,  and  so  cunning  that  you  can  leuell  at  the  dis 
positions  of  women  whom  you  neuer  knew,  me  thinketh  you  shold 

30  vse  the  meane,  if  you  desire  to  haue  the  ende,  which  is  to  hate  those 
whom  you  would  faine  haue  to  loue  you,  for  this  haue  you  set  for 
a  rule  (yet  out  of  square)  that  women  then  loue  most,  when  they  be 
loathed  most.  And  to  the  ende  I  might  stoope  to  your  lure,  I  pray 
begin  to  hate  me,  that  I  may  loue  you. 

35  Touching  your  loosing  and  finding,  your  buying  &  sellyng,  it 
much  skilleth  not,  for  I  had  rather  you  shoulde  loose  me  so  you 
might  neuer  finde  me  againe,  then  finde  me  that  I  should  thinke 

2  hit]  get  GE  rest  6  in]  is  M  8  crake  M-G  1623  :  cracke  E  rest  21 
no-hing  M  24  the  M:  they  A  rest  33  lure]  rule  E  34  you  before 

begin  GE  rest 

F  2 


68  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

my  selfe  lost :  and  rather  had  I  be  solde  of  you  for  a  penny,  then 
bought  for  you  with  a  poud.  If  you  meane  either  to  make  an  Art 
or  an  Occupation  of  Loue,  I  doubt  not  but  you  shal  finde  worke 
in  the  Court  sufficient :  but  you  shal  not  know  the  length  of  my 
foote,  vntill  by  your  cunning  you  get  commendation.  A  Phrase  5 
now  there  is  which  belongeth  to  your  Shoppe  boorde,  that  is,  to 
make  loue,  and  when  I  shall  heare  of  what  fashion  it  is  made,  if 
I  like  the  pattern,  you  shall  cut  me  a  partlet :  so  as  you  cut  it  not 
with  a  paire  of  left  handed  sheeres.  And  I  doubte  not  though  you 
haue  marred  your  first  loue  in  the  making,  yet  by  the  time  you  haue  10 
made  three  or  foure  loues,  you  will  proue  an  expert  work-manne : 
for  as  yet  you  are  like  the  Taylours  boy,  who  thinketh  to  take 
measure  before  he  can  handle  the  sheeres. 

And  thus  I  protest  vnto  you,   bicause   you   are   but  a   younge 
begynner,  that  I  will  helpe  you  to  as  much  custome  as  I  canne,  so  15 
as  you  will  promyse  mee  to  sowe  no  false  stitches,  and  when  myne 
old  loue  is  worne  thread-bare,  you  shall  take  measure  of  a  newe. 

In  the  meane  season  do  not  discourage  your  self.     Appelles  was 
no  good  Paynter  the  first  day :    For  in  euery  occupation  one  must 
first  endeauour  to  beginne.     He  that  will  sell  lawne  must  learne  to  20 
folde  it,  and  he  that  will  make  loue,  must  learne  first  to  courte  it. 

As  she  was  in  this  vaine  very  pleasaunt,  so  I  think  she  would 
haue  bene  verye  long,  had  not  the  Gentlewoemen  called  hir  to  walk, 
being  so  faire  a  day :  then  taking  hir  leaue  very  curteously,  she  left 
me  alone,  yet  turning  againe  she  saide :  will  you  not  manne  vs  25 
Fidus,  beeing  so  proper  a  man?  Yes  quoth  I,  and  without  asking 
to,  had  you  beene  a  proper  woman.  Then  smyling  shee  saide :  you 
should  finde  me  a  proper  woman,  had  you  bene  a  proper  work-man. 
And  so  she  departed. 

Nowe  Philautus  and  Euphues,  what  a  traunce  was  I  left  in,  who  30 
bewailing  my  loue,  was  answered  with  hate  :   or  if  not  with  hate,  with 
such  a  kind  of  heate,  as  almost  burnt  the  very  bowels  with-in  me. 
What  greter  discurtesie  could  ther  possibly  rest   in  the   minde  of 
a  Gentle-woman,  then  with  so  many  nips,  such  bitter  girdes,  such 
disdainfull  glickes   to   answere    him,   that   honoured   hir  ?      What  35 
crueltie  more  vnfit  for  so  comely  a  Lady,  then  to  spurre  him  that 
galloped,  or  to  let  him  bloud  in  the  hart,  whose  veine  she  shold 
haue  stanched  in  the  liuer  ?     But  it  fared  with  me  as  with  the  herb 

21  first  learne  E  rest  25  me]  him  E  rest  33  possible  EF  35 

gliekes  AB ;  glikes  E :  gleekes  F  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  69 

Basill,  the  which  ye  more  it  is  crousshed,  the  sooner  it  springeth,  or 
the  rue,  which  the  oftner  it  is  cutte,  the  better  it  groweth,  or  the 
poppy,  which  the  more  it  is  troden  with  the  feete,  the  more  it 
florisheth.  For  in  these  extremities,  beaten  as  it  were  to  the  ground 
5  with  disdain,  my  loue  recheth  to  the  top  of  the  house  with  hope, 
not  vnlike  vnto  a  Tree,  which  though  it  be  often  felled  to  the  hard 
roote,  yet  it  buddeth  againe  &  getteth  a  top. 

But  to  make  an  ende  both  of  my  tale  and  my  sorrowes,  I  will 
proceede,    onely  crauing  a  little  pacience,  if  I  fall  into  mine  old 

10  passions  :  With-that  Philautus  came  in  with  his  spoake,  saying :  in 
fayth  fiduSj  mee  thinketh  I  could  neuer  be  weary  in  hearing  this 
discourse,  and  I  feare  me  the  ende  will  be  to  soone,  although  I  feele 
in  my  self  the  impression  of  thy  sorows.  Yea  quoth  Euphues,  you 
shall  finde  my  friend  Philautus  so  kinde  harted,  that  before  you 

15  haue  done,  he  will  be  farther  in  loue  with  hir,  then  you  were  :  for  as 
your  Lady  saide,  Philautus  will  be  bound  to  make  loue  as  warden 
of  y*  occupation.  Then  Fidus,  well  God  graunt  Philautus  better 
successe  than  I  hadde,  which  was  too  badde.  For  my  Father  being 
returned  from  hunting,  and  the  Gentle-women  from  walking,  the 

20  table  was  couered,  and  we  all  set  downe  to  dinner,  none  more 
pleasaunt  then  Iffyda^  which  would  not  conclude  hir  mirth,  and 
I  not  melancholic,  bicause  I  would  couer  my  sadnesse,  least  either 
she  might  thinke  me  to  doat,  or  my  Father  suspect  me  to  desire 
hir.  And  thus  we  both  in  table  talke  beganne  to  rest.  She 

25  requesting  me  to  be  hir  caruer,  and  I  not  attending  well  to  that 
she  craued,  gaue  hir  salt,  which  when  she  receiued,  shee  gan 
thus  to  reply. 

TN  sooth  Gentle-manne  I  seldome  eate  salte  for  feare  of  anger, 

and  if  you  giue  it  mee  in  token  that  I  want  witte,  then  will  you 

30  make  me  cholericke  before  I  eate  it :  for  woemen  be  they  neuer  so 

foolish,  would  euer  be  thought  wise. 

I  stayd  not  long  for  mine  aunswere,  but  as  well  quickened  by  hir 

former  talke,  and  desirous  to  crye  quittaunce  for  hir  present  tongue, 

sayd  thus. 
35      If  to  eate  store  of  salt  cause  one  to  frette,  and  to  haue  no  salte 

signifie  lacke  of  wit,  then  do  you  cause  me  to  meruaile,  that  eating 

no  salte  you  are  so  captious,  and  louing  no  salt  you  are  so  wise, 

3  foote  E  rest  20  sate  E  rest  26  craued]  earned  M  29  it  ont. 

£-1623  32  stayd]  stand  M  33  and]  as  E  rest 


70  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

when  in  deede  so  much  wit  is  sufficient  for  a  woman,  as  when 
she  is  in  the  faine  can  warne  hir  to  come  out  of  it. 

You  mistake  your  ayme  quoth  Iffyda,  for  such  a  showre  may 
fall,  as  did  once  into  Danaes  lap,  and  then  y*  woman  were  a  foole 
that  would  come  out  of  it :   but  it  may  be  your  mouth  is  out  of  5 
taste,  therfore  you  were  best  season  it  with  salt. 

In  deede  quoth  I,  your  aunsweres  are  so  fresh,  that  with-out  salt 
I  can  hardly  swallow  them.  Many  nips  were  returned  that  time 
betweene  vs,  and  some  so  bitter,  that  I  thought  them  to  proceede 
rather  of  mallice,  to  worke  dispite,  then  of  mirth  to  shewe  disporte.  10 

My  Father  very  desirous  to  heare  questions  asked,  willed  me  after 
dinner,  to  vse  some  demaund,  which  after  grace  I  did  in  this  sorte. 

T  Ady  Iffyda,  it  is  not  vnlikly  but  y*  you  can  aunswer  a  question 
•*— '     as  wisely,  as  the  last  nyght  you  asked  one  wilylie,  and  I  trust 
you  wil  be  as  ready  to  resolue  any  doubt  by  entreatie,  as  I  was  by  15 
commaudement. 

There  was  a  Lady  in  Spaine,  who  after  the  decease  of  hir  Father 
hadde  three  sutors,  (and  yet  neuer  a  good  Archer)  the  one  excelled 
in  all  giftes  of  the  bodye,  in-somuch  that  there  could  be  nothing 
added  to  his  perfection,  and  so  armed  in  all  poyntes,  as  his  very  20 
lookes  were  able  to  pearce  the  heart  of  any  Ladie,  especially  of 
such  a  one,  as  seemed  hir  selfe  to  haue  no  lesse  beautie,  than  he  had 
personage. 

For  that,  as  betweene  the  similitude  of  manners  there  is  a  friend 
ship  in  euerie  respecte  absolute  :  so  in  the  composition  of  the  bodye  25 
there  is  a  certaine  loue  engendred  by  one  looke,  where  both  the 
bodyes  resemble  each  other  as  wouen  both  in  one  lombe.  The 
other  hadde  nothing  to  commend  him  but  a  quicke  witte,  which 
hee  hadde  alwayes  so  at  his  will,  that  nothing  could  be  spoken,  but 
he  would  wrest  it  to  his  ovvne  purpose,  which  wrought  such  delight  30 
in  this  Ladye,  who  was  no  lesse  wittie  then  hee,  that  you  woulde 
haue  thought  a  manage  to  be  solempnized  before  the  match  could 
be  talked  of.  For  there  is  nothing  in  loue  more  requisite,  or  more 
delectable,  then  pleasaunt  and  wise  conference,  neyther  canne  there 
aryse  any  storme  in  loue  which  by  witte  is  not  turned  to  a  calme.  35 

The  thirde  was  a  Gentle-man  of  great  possessions,  large  reuenues, 

9  the  EF\  then  .// 1617  17  desease  ftf  22  he]  she  all  eds.  {see 

note]  26  ones  GE  rest         lookes  E  rest  27  loome  A  rest  30  it 

om.  F  31  in  this]  to  this  B  :  to  his.-fi1  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  71 

full  of  money,  but  neither  the  wisest  that  euer  enioyed  so  much, 
nor  ye  properst  that  euer  desired  so  much,  he  had  no  plea  in  his 
sute,  but  gyllt,  which  rubbed  well  in  a  hoat  hand  is  such  a  grease 
as  will  supple  a  very  hard  heart.  And  who  is  so  ignorant  that 
5  knoweth  not,  gold  be  a  key  for  euery  locke,  chieflye  with  his  Ladye, 
who  hir  selfe  was  well  stored,  and  as  yet  infected  with  a  desyre  of 
more,  that  shee  could  not  but  lende  him  a  good  countenaunce  in 
this  match. 

Now  Lady  Iffida,  you   are  to  determine   this  Spanish  bargaine, 
10  or  if  you  please,  we  wil  make  it  an  English  controuersie  :  supposing 
you  to  be  the  Lady,  and  three  such  Gentlemen  to  come  vnto  you 
a  woing,  In  faith  who  should  be  the  speeder  ? 

C^  Entleman  (quoth  Iffida)  you  may  aunswere  your  owne  question 
^"^     by  your  owne  argument  if  you  would,  for  if  you  coclude  the 

15  Lady  to  be  beautiful,  wittie  and  wealthy,  then  no  doubt  she  will  take 
such  a  one,  as  should  haue  comelynesse  of  body,  sharpenesse  of 
wit,  and  store  of  riches:  Otherwise,  I  would  condempne  that. wit  in 
hir,  which  you  seeme  so  much  to  commend,  hir  selfe  excelling  in 
three  qualyties,  shee  should  take  one,  which  was  endued  but  with 

20  one :  in  perfect  loue  the  eye  must  be  pleased,  the  eare  delighted, 
the  heart  comforted  :  beautie  causeth  the  one,  wit  the  other,  wealth 
the  third. 

To  loue  onely  for  comelynesse,  were  lust :  to  lyke  for  wit  onely, 
madnesse  :  to  desire  chiefly  for  goods,  couetousnesse :  and  yet  can 

•25  there  be  no  loue  with-out  beautie,  but  we  loath  it :  nor  with-out 
wit,  but  wee  scorne  it :  nor  with-out  riches,  but  we  repent  it.  Euery 
floure  hath  his  blossome,  his  sauour,  his  sappe  :  and  euery  desire 
should  haue  to  feede  the  eye,  to  please  the  wit,  to  maintaine  the 
roote. 

30  Ganimedes  maye  cast  an  amiable  countenaunce,  but  that  feedeth 
not :  Vlysses  tell  a  wittie  tale,  but  that  fatteth  not  :  Croesus  bring 
bagges  of  gold,  &  that  doth  both :  yet  with-out  the  ayde  of  beautie 
he  cannot  bestow  it,  and  with-out  wit  he  knowes  not  how  to  vse  it. 
So  that  I  am  of  this  minde,  there  is  no  Lady  but  in  hir  choyce  wil 

35  be  so  resolute,  that  either  she  wil  lyue  a  virgin  till  she  haue  such 
a  one,  as  shall  haue  all  these  three  properties,  or  els  dye  for  anger, 
if  she  match  with  one  that  wanteth  any  one  of  them. 

2  properest  AB GF rest:  propprest  E         5  to  before  be  A  rest         6  as]  are  M 
7  him  om.  E  rest  33  he1]  wee  E  rest  37  one2  om.  E  rest 


72  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

I  perceiuing  hir  to  stand  so  stifly,  thought  if  I  might  to  remoue 
hir  footing,  and  replyed  againe. 

TAdy  you  now  thinke  by  pollicie  to  start,  where  you  bound  me 
•*— •  to  aunswere  by  necessitie,  not  suffering  me  to  ioyne  three 
flowers  in  one  Nosegay,  but  to  chuse  one,  or  els  to  leaue  all.  The  5 
lyke  must  I  craue  at  your  hands,  that  if  of  force  you  must  consent 
to  any  one,  whether  would  you  haue  the  proper  man,  the  wise,  or 
the  rich. 

She  as  not  without  an  answere,  quickly  requited  me. 
A  Lthough  there  be  no  force,  which  may  compel  me  to  take  anye,  10 
^^     neither  a  profer,  where-by  I  might  chuse  all  :  Yet  to  aunswere 
you  flatly,  I  woulde  haue  the  wealthiest,  for  beautie  without  riches, 
goeth  a  begging,  and  wit  with-out  wealth,  cheapeneth  all  things  in 
the  Faire,  but  buyeth  nothing. 

Truly  Lady  quoth  I,  either  you  speake  not  as  you  think,  or  you  15 
be  far  ouershot,  for  me  thinketh,  that  he  y*  hath  beautie,  shal  haue 
money  of  ladyes  for  almes,  and  he  that  is  wittie  wil  get  it  by  craft : 
but  the  rich  hauing  inough,  and  neither  loued  for  shape  nor  sence, 
must  either  keepe  his  golde  for  those  he  knowes  not,  or  spend  it 
on  them,  that  cares  not.     Well,  aunswered  Iffida,  so  many  men,  so  20 
many  mindes,  now  you  haue  my  opinion,  you  must  not  thinke  to 
wring  me  from  it,  for  I  had  rather  be  as  all  women  are,  obstinate 
in    mine    owne    conceipt,    then    apt    to    be    wrought    to    others 
constructions. 

My  father  liked  hir  choyce,  whether  it  were  to  flatter  hir,  or  for  25 
feare  to  offend  hir,  or  that  he  loued  money  himselfe  better  then  either 
wit  or  beautie.  And  our  conclusions  thus  ended,  she  accompanied 
with  hir  gentlewomen  and  other  hir  seruaunts,  went  to  hir  Uncles, 
hauing  taried  a  day  longer  with  my  father,  then  she  appoynted, 
though  not  so  manye  with  me,  as  shee  was  welcome.  30 

Ah  Philautus,  what  torments  diddest  thou  thinke  poore  ftdus 
endured,  who  now  felt  the  flame  euen  to  take  full  holde  of  his 
heart,  and  thinking  by  solitarinesse  to  driue  away  melancholy,  and 
by  imagination  to  forget  loue,  I  laboured  no  otherwise,  then  he  that 
to  haue  his  Horse  stande  still,  pricketh  him  with  the  spurre,  or  he  35 
that  hauing  sore  eyes  rubbeth  them  with  salt  water.  At  the  last 
with  continual  abstinence  from  meat,  from  company,  from  sleepe, 

6  must  I]  I  must  E  rest  n  may  E  rest  15  or]  for  E  19  or]  &  M 
20  care  Si  rest  21  haue  you  £  rest  23  wrought]  brought  E  rest  27  for 
before  wit  H  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  73 

my  body  began  to  consume,  &  my  head  to  waxe  idle,  insomuch  that 
the  sustenance  which  perforce  was  thrust  into  my  mouth,  was  neuer 
disgested,  nor  ye  talke  which  came  from  my  adle  braines  liked  :  For 
euer  in  my  slumber  me  thought  Iffida  presented  hir  self,  now  with 

5  a  countenance  pleasaunt  and  merry,  streight-waies  with  a  colour  full 
of  wrath  and  mischiefe. 

My  father  no  lesse  sorrowfull  for  my  disease,  then  ignorant  of  ye 
cause,  sent  for  diuers  Phisitions,  among  the  which  ther  came  an 
Italian,  who  feeling  my  pulses,  casting  my  water,  &  marking  my 

10  lookes,  commaunded  the  chamber  to  be  voyded,  &  shutting  the 
doore  applyed  this  medicine  to  my  malady.  Gentleman,  there  is 
none  that  can  better  heale  your  wound  than  he  y*  made  it,  so  that 
you  should  haue  sent  for  Cupid,  not  Aesculapius,  for  although  they 
be  both  Gods,  yet  will  they  not  meddle  in  each  others  office. 

15  Appelks  wil  not  goe  about  to  amed  Lisippus  earning,  yet  they  both 
wrought  Alexdder :  nor  Hippocrates  busie  himself  w*  Quids  art,  & 
yet  they  both  described  Venus.  Your  humour  is  to  be  purged  not 
by  the  Apothecaries  confections,  but  by  the  following  of  good 
counsaile. 

20  You  are  in  loue  Fidus  ?  Which  if  you  couer  in  a  close  chest, 
will  burne  euery  place  before  it  burst  the  locke.  For  as  we  know 
by  Phisick  that  poyson  wil  disperse  it  selfe  into  euery  veyne,  before 
it  part  the  hart :  so  I  haue  heard  by  those  y*  in  loue  could  say 
somwhat,  that  it  maimeth  euerye  parte,  before  it  kill  the  Lyuer. 

25  If  therefore  you  will  make  me  priuie  to  all  your  deuises,  I  will 
procure  such  meanes,  as  you  shall  recouer  in  short  space,  otherwise 
if  you  seeke  to  conceale  the  partie,  and  encrease  your  passions,  you 
shall  but  shorten  your  lyfe,  and  so  loose  your  Loue,  for  whose  sake 
you  lyue. 

3°  When  I  heard  my  Phisition  so  pat  to  hit  my  disease,  I  could  not 
dissemble  with  him,  least  he  shold  bewray  it,  neither  would  I,  in  hope 
of  remedy. 

Unto  him  I  discoursed  the  faith  full  loue,  which  I  bore  to  Iffida, 
and  described  in  euery  perticular,  as  to  you  I  haue  done.  Which 

35  he  hearing,  procured  with  in  one  daye,  Lady  Iffida  to  see  me,  telling 
my  Father,  that  my  disease  was  but  a  consuming  Feuer,  which  he 
hoped  in  short  time  to  cure. 

When  my  Lady  came,  and  saw  me  so  altered  in  a  moneth,  wasted 

2  substance  E  rest  8  diuerse  G  18  the1  om.  ABE  rest  22  in 

F  rest  23  part]  pearce  Frest  28  but  om.  E  rest 


74  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

to  the  harde  bones,  more  lyke  a  ghoast  then  a  lyuing  creature,  after 
many  words  of  comfort  (as  women  want  none  about  sicke  persons) 
when  she  saw  opportunitie,  she  asked  me  whether  the  Italian  wer 
my  messenger,  or  if  he  were,  whether  his  embassage  were  true,  which 
question  I  thus  aunswered.  5 

T  Ady  to  dissemble  with  the  worlde,  when  I  am  departing  from  it, 
woulde  profite  me  nothing  with  man,  &  hinder  me  much  with 
god,  to  make  my  deathbed  the  place  of  deceipt,  might  hasten  my 
death,  and  cncrcase  my  daunger. 

I  haue  loued  you  long,  and  now  at  the  length  must  leaue  you,  10 
whose  harde  heart  I  will  not  impute  to  discurtesie,  but  destinie, 
it  contenteth  me  that   I  dyed  in  fayth,  though  I  coulde  not  liue 
in  fauour,  neythcr  was  I  euer  more  desirous  to  begin  my  loue,  the" 
I  am  now  to  cnde  my  life.     Thinges  which  cannot  be  altered  are  to 
be    borne,   not  blamed :    follies   past  are  sooner   remembred  then  15 
redressed,  and  time  lost  may  well  be  repented,  but  neuer  recalled. 
I  will  not  recount  the  passions  I  haue  suffered,  I  think  the  effects 
show  them,  and  now  it  is  more  behoofull  for  me  to  fall  to  praying 
for  a  new  life,  then  to  remember  the  olde  :    yet  this  I  ad  (which 
though  it  merit  no  mercy  to  sane,  it  deserueth  thankes  of  a  friend)  ao 
that  onely  I  loued  thee,  and  liued  for  thee,  and  nowe  dye  for  thee. 
And  so  turning  on  my  left  side,  I  fetched  a  deepe  sigh. 

Ijfyda  the  water  standing  in  hir  eyes,  clasping  my  hand  in  hirs, 
with  a  sadde  countcnaunce  answered  nice  thus. 

IV /T  Y  good  Itdus,  if  the  encreasing  of  my  sorrowes,  might  mittigate  25 
^  the  extremitie  of  thy  sicknes,  I  could  be  content  to  resolue 
my  selfe  into  teares  to  ridde  thee  of  trouble  :  but  the  making  of 
a  fresh  wound  in  my  body,  is  nothing  to  the  healing  of  a  festred 
sore  in  thy  bowelles  :  for  that  such  diseases  are  to  be  cured  in  the 
end,  by  the  meanes  of  their  originall.  For  as  by  Basill  the  Scorpion  30 
is  engendred,  and  by  the  meanes  of  the  same  hearb  destroyed :  so 
loue  which  by  time  &  fancie  is  bred  in  an  idle  head,  is  by  time  and 
fancie  banished  from  the  heart :  or  as  the  Salamander  which  being 
a  long  space  nourished  in  the  fire,  at  the  last  quencheth  it,  so 
affection  hauing  taken  holde  of  the  fancie,  and  liuing  as  it  were  in  35 

10  the  om.  E  rest  (cf.  p.  n,  /.  3)              I  before  must  GE  rest             16  lost] 

past  GE  rest  17  effects  11 rest :  effect  M-CEF  (the  's'  having  dropped  out 

l>efore  show)  18  behoouefull   GE  rest           23  hands  E  rest           30  meanes] 

names  M  32  headj  braine  E  rest            35  hauing  taking  M 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS  ENGLAND  75 

the  minde  of  the  louer,  in  tract  of  tyme  altereth  and  chaungeth  the 
heate,  and  turneth  it  to  chilnesse. 

It  is  no  small  griefe  to  me  Fidus,  that  I  should  bee  thought  to  be 
the  cause  of  thy  languishing,  and  cannot  be  remedy  of  thy  disease. 
5  For  vnto  thee  I  will  reueale  more  then  either  wisdome  would  allowe, 
or  my  modestie  permit. 

And  yet  so  much,  as  may  acquit  me  of  vngratitude  towards  thee, 
and  ridde  thee  of  the  suspition  concieued  of  me. 

C  O  it  is  Fidus  and  my  good  friende,  that  about  a  two  yeares  past, 

10  ther  was  in  court  a  Gentlema,  not  vnknown  vnto  thee,  nor 
I  think  vnbeloued  of  thee,  whose  name  I  will  not  conceale,  least 
thou  shouldest  eyther  thinke  me  to  forge,  or  him  not  worthy  to  be 
named.  This  Gentleman  was  called  T/iirsus,  in  all  respectes  so 
well  qualified  as  had  he  not  beene  in  loue  with  mce,  I  should  haue 

15  bene  enamoured  of  him. 

But  his  hastinesse  preuented  my  heate,  who  began  to  sue  for  that, 
which  I  was  ready  to  proffer,  whose  sweete  tale  although  I  wished 
it  to  be  true,  yet  at  the  first  I  could  not  beleeue  it :  For  that  men  in 
matters  of  loue  haue  as  many  wayes  to  decciue,  as  they  haue  wordes 

ao  to  vtter. 

I  seemed  straight  laced,  as  one  neither  accustomed  to  such  suites, 
nor  willing  to  entertaine  such  a  seruant,  yet  so  warily,  as  putting  him 
from  me  with  my  little  finger,  I  drewe  him  to  rne  with  rny  whole 
hand. 

as  For  I  stoode  in  a  great  mamering,  how  I  might  behaue  my  selfe, 
least  being  too  coye  he  might  thinke  nice  proud,  or  vsing  too  mm  h 
curtesie,  he  might  Judge  mee  wanton.  Thus  long  time  I  held  him 
in  a  doubt,  thinking  there-by  to  haue  iust  tryall  of  his  faith,  or  plaine 
knowledge  of  his  falshood.  In  this  manner  I  led  my  life  almost 

30  one  yeare,  vntill  with  often  meeting  and  diuers  conferences,  I  felt 
my  selfe  so  wounded,  that  though  I  thought  no  heauen  to  my  happe, 
yet  I  lyued  as  it  were  in  hell  till  I  had  enioyed  my  hope. 

For  as  the  tree  Ebenus  though  it  no  way  be  set  in  a  flame,  yet  it 
burncth  with  sweete  sauors  :  so  rny  minde  though  it  could  not  be 

35  fired,  for  that  I  thought  rny  selfe  wise,  yet  was  it  almost  consumed 
to  ashes  with  pleasaunt  delights  and  sweete  cogitations :  in-somuch 
as  it  fared  with  mee,  as  it  doth  with  the  trees  striken  with  thunder, 

7  ingratitude  F  rest  9  a  om.  F  rest  10  vnto]  to  E  rest  17  offer 

GE  rest  18  it2  om.  E  rest  36  delight  E  rut  37  as1]  that  E  rest 


76  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

which  hairing  the  barkes  sounde,  are  brused  in  the  bodye,  for  finding 
my  outwarde  partes  with-out  blemyshe,  looking  into  my  minde, 
coulde  not  see  it  with-out  blowes. 

I  now  perceiuing  it  high  time  to  vse  the  Phisition,  who  was 
alwayes  at  hande,  determined  at  the  next  meeting  to  conclud  such  5 
faithful  and  inuiolable  league  of  loue,  as  neither  the  length  of  time, 
nor  the  distance  of  place,  nor  the  threatning  of  friendes,  nor  the 
spight  of  fortune,  nor  the  feare  of  death,  should  eyther  alter  or 
diminish  :  Which  accordingly  was  then  finished,  and  hath  hether-to 
bene  truely  fulfilled.  10 

Thirsus,  as  thou  knowest  hath  euer  since  bene  beyonde  the  Seas, 
the  remembraunce  of  whose  constancie  is  the  onely  comfort  of  my 
life :  neyther  do  I  reioyce  in  any  thing  more,  then  in  the  fayth  of  my 
good  Thirsus. 

Then  Fidus  I  appeale  in  this  case  to  thy  honestie,  which  shall  15 
determine  of  myne  honour.     Wouldest  thou  haue  me  inconstant  to 
my  olde  friend,  and  faythfull  to  a  newe?    Knowest  thou  not  that  as 
the  Almond  tree  beareth  most  fruite  when  he  is  olde,  so  loue  hath 
greatest  fayth  when  it  groweth  in  age.     It  falleth  out  in  loue,  as  it 
doth  in  Uines,  for  the  young  Uines  bring  the  most  wine  but  the  olde  20 
the  best :  So  tender  loue  maketh  greatest  showe  of  blossomes,  but 
tryed  loue  bringeth  forth  sweetest  iuyce. 

And  yet  I  will  say  thus  much,  not  to  adde  courage  to  thy 
attemptes,  that  I  haue  taken  as  great  delight  in  thy  company,  as 
euer  I  did  in  anyes,  (my  Thirsus  onely  excepted)  which  was  the  25 
cause  that  oftentymes,  I  would  eyther  by  questions  moue  thee  to 
talke,  or  by  quarrels  incese  thee  to  choller,  perceiuing  in  thee  a  wit 
aunswerable  to  my  desire,  which  I  thought  throughly  to  whet  by 
some  discourse.  But  wert  thou  in  comlines  Alexander,  and  my 
Thirsus,  Thersites,  wert  thou  Vlysses,  he  Mydas,  thou  Crasus,  he  30 
Codrus,  I  would  not  forsake  him  to  haue  thee :  no  not  if  I  might 
ther-by  prolong  thy  life,  or  saue  mine  owne,  so  fast  a  roote  hath  true 
loue  taken  in  my  hart,  that  the  more  it  is  digged  at,  the  deeper 
it  groweth,  the  oftener  it  is  cut,  the  lesse  it  bleedeth,  and  the  more 
it  is  loaden,  the  better  it  beareth.  35 

What  is  there  in  this  vile  earth  that  more  commendeth  a  woman 
then  constancie  ?  It  is  neyther  his  wit,  though  it  be  excellent  that 

6  a  before  faithful  ABE  rest  10  cruelly  II  rest  16  myne]  mine  owne 

E  rest  17  my]  mine  ABE  rest  18  he]  it  E  rest  24  a  before  delight 

Erest        2 5  any  Erest         30  Croesus  Frest        31  Cordus.£        33at0w.  Erest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  77 

I  esteeme,  neyther  his  byrth  though  it  be  noble,  nor  his  bringing 
vppe,  which  hath  alwayes  bene  courtlye,  but  onelye  his  constancie 
and  my  fayth,  which  no  torments,  no  tyrant,  not  death  shall  dissolue. 
For  neuer  shall  it  be  said  that  Iffyda  was  false  to  Thirsus,  though 
5  Thirsus  bee  faythlesse  (which  the  Gods  forfend)  vnto  Iffyda. 

For  as  Amulius  the  cunning  painter  so  protrayed  Minerua,  that 
which  waye  so-euer  one  cast  his  eye,  she  alwayes  behelde  him :  so 
hath  Cupid  so  exquisetlye  drawne  the  Image  of  Thirsus  in  my  heart, 
that  what  way  so-euer  I  glaunce,  mee  thinketh  hee  looketh  stedfastlye 

10  vppon  mee :  in-somuch  that  when  I  haue  scene  any  to  gaze  on  my 
beautye  (simple  God  wotte  though  it  bee)  I  haue  wished  to  haue  the 
eyes  of  Augustus  Casar  to  dymme  their  sightes  with  the  sharp  and 
scorching  beames. 

Such  force  hath  time  and  triall  wrought,  that  if  Thirsus  shoulde 

15  dye  I  woulde  be  buried  with  him,  imitating  the  Eagle  which  Sesta 
a  Uirgin  brought  vp,  who  seeing  the  bones  of  the  Uirgin  cast  into 
the  fire,  threw  him  selfe  in  with  them,  and  burnt  himself  with  them. 
Or  Hippocrates  Twinnes,  who  were  borne  together,  laughed  together, 
wept  together,  and  dyed  together. 

20  For  as  Alexander  woulde  be  engrauen  of  no  one  man,  in  a  precious 
stone,  but  onely  QiPergotales  :  so  would  I  haue  my  picture  imprinted 
in  no  heart,  but  in  his,  by  Thirsus. 

Consider  with  thy  selfe  Fidus,  that  a  faire  woman  with-out  con 
stancie,  is  not  vnlyke  vnto  a  greene  tree  without  fruit,  resembling  the 

25  Counterfait  that  Praxitiles  made  for  Flora,  before  the  which  if  one 
stoode  directly,  it  seemed  to  weepe,  if  on  the  left  side  to  laugh, 
if  on  the  other  side  to  sleepe :  where-by  he  noted  the  light 
behauiour  of  hir,  which  could  not  in  one  constant  shadow  be  set 
downe. 

30  And  yet  for  ye  great  good  wil  thou  bearest  me,  I  can  not  reiect 
thy  seruice,  but  I  will  not  admit  thy  loue.  But  if  either  my  friends, 
or  my  selfe,  my  goods,  or  my  good  will  may  stande  thee  in  steede, 
vse  me,  trust  mee,  commaund  me,  as  farre  foorth,  as  thou  canst 
with  modestie,  &  I  may  graunt  with  mine  honour.  If  to  talke  with 

35  me,  or  continually  to  be  in  thy  company,  may  in  any  respect  satisfie 
thy  desire,  assure  thy  selfe,  I  wil  attend  on  thee,  as  dilygently  as  thy 
Nourse,  and  bee  more  carefull  for  thee,  then  thy  Phisition.  More 

3  not]  no  E  rest  5  vnto]  to  E  rest  6  Amulus  E  rest  portrayed 

A  rest  7  eies  E  rest  1 2  eyes]  eye  E  rest  20  ingraued  E  rest 

23-4  constancice  M        24  vnto  om.  F  rest         25  if]  it  E         27  where  E  rest 


78  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

I  can  not  promise,  without  breach  of  my  faith,  more  thou  canst  not 
aske  without  the  suspition  of  folly. 

Heere  Fidus  take  this  Diamond,  which  I  haue  hard  olde  women 
say,  to  haue  bene  of  great  force,  against  idle  thoughts,  vayne  dreames, 
and  phrenticke  imaginations,  which  if  it  doe  thee  no  good,  assure  5 
thy  selfe  it  can  do  thee  no  harme,  and  better  I  thinke  it  against 
such  enchaunted  fantasies,  then  either  Homers  Moly,  or  Plinyes 
Centaurio. 

When  my  Lady  had  ended  this  straunge  discourse,  I  was  striken 
into  such  a  maze,  that  for  the  space  almost  of  halfe  an  houre,  I  lay  10 
as  it  had  ben  in  a  trauce,  mine  eyes  almost  standing  in  my  head 
without  motio,  my  face  without  colour,  my  mouth  without  breath, 
in  so  much  that  Iffida  began  to  scrich  out,  and  call  company,  which 
called  me  also  to  my  selfe,  and  then  with  a  faint  &  trembling  tongue, 
I  vttered  these  words.    Lady  I  cannot  vse  as  many  words  as  I  would,  15 
bicause  you  see  I  am  weake,  nor  giue  so  many  thankes  as  I  should, 
for  that  you  deserue  infinite.     If  Thirsus  haue  planted  the  Uine, 
I  wil  not  gather  the  grapes  :    neither  is  it  reason,  that  he  hauing 
sowed  with  payne,  that  I  should  reape  the  plesure.     This  sufficeth 
me  and  delighteth  me  not  a  litle,  y*  you  are  so  faithfull,  &  he  so  ao 
fortunate.     Yet  good  lady,  let  me  obtain  one  smal  sute,  which  dero 
gating  nothing  from  your  true  loue,  must  needes  be  lawful,  that  is, 
that  I  may  in  this  my  sicknesse  enioy  your  company,  and  if  I  recouer, 
be  admitted  as  your  seruaunt  :  the  one  wil  hasten  my  health,  the 
other  prolong  my  lyfe.     She  courteously  graunted  both,  and  so  care-  25 
fully  tended  me  in  my  sicknesse,  that  what  with  hir  merry  sporting, 
and  good  nourishing,  I  began  to  gather  vp  my  crumbes,  and  in  short 
time  to  walke  into  a  gallerie,  neere  adioyning  vnto  my  chamber, 
wher  she  disdained  not  to  lead  me,  &  so  at  al  times  to  vse  me,  as 
though  I  had  ben  Thirsus.     Euery  euening  she  wold  put  forth  either  3° 
some  pretie  questio,  or  vtter  some  mery  conceit,  to  driue  me  fro 
melancholy.      There  was  no  broth  that  would  downe,  but  of  hir 
making,  no  meat  but  of  hir  dressing,  no  sleepe  enter  into  mine  eyes, 
but  by  hir  singing,  insomuch  as  she  was  both  my  Nurse,  my  Cooke, 
and  my  Phisition.     Being  thus  by  hir  for  the  space  of  one  moneth  35 
cherished,  I  waxed  strong  &  so  lustie,  as  though  I  had  neuer  bene 
sicke. 


5  no  om.  E  13  scrich  ME  1636:  scriteh  AB\  scriche  G\  scriech  ^- 

19  sowen  E-ffidiz:  sowne  1617,  1630-36  30  either  om.  A  rest  36 

cherishe  M  &  so  lustie  om.  ABE  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  79 

TVTOw  Philautus  iudge  not  parcially,  whether  was  she  a  lady  of 
•*•         greater  constancie  towards  Thirsus^  or  courtesie  towards  me  ? 
Philautus  thus  aunswered.     Now  surely  Fidus  in  my  opinion,  she 
was  no  lesse  to  be  commended  for  keeping  hir  faith  inuiolable,  then 

5  to  be  praised  for  giuing  such  almes  vnto  thee,  which  good  behauiour, 
differeth  farre  from  the  nature  of  our  Italian  Dames,  who  if  they  be 
constant  they  dispise  al  other  that  seeme  to  loue  them.  But  I  long 
yet  to  heare  the  ende,  for  me  thinketh  a  matter  begon  with  such 
heate,  shoulde  not  ende  with  a  bitter  colde. 

10  O  Philautus^  the  ende  is  short  and  lamentable,  but  as  it  is 
haue  it. 

e  after  long  recreating  of  hir  selfe  in  the  country,  repayred 
againe  to  the  court,  and  so  did  I  also,  wher  I  lyued  as  the 
Elephant  doth  by  aire,  with  the  sight  of  my  Lady,  who  euer  vsed 

15  me  in  all  hir  secrets  as  one  that  she  most  trusted.  But  my  ioyes 
were  too  great  to  last,  for  euen  in  the  middle  of  my  blisse,  there 
came  tidings  to  Iffida,  that  Thirsus  was  slayn  by  the  Turkes,  being 
then  in  paye  with  the  King  of  Spaine,  which  battaile  was  so  bloody, 
that  many  gentlemen  lost  their  lyues. 

20  Iffida  so  distraught  of  hir  wits,  with  these  newes  fell  into  a  phrensie, 
hauing  nothing  in  hir  mouth,  but  alwayes  this,  Thirsus  slayne,  Thirsus 
slayne,  euer  dubling  this  speach  with  such  pitiful  cryes  &  scriches, 
as  it  would  haue  moued  the  souldiers  of  Vlisses  to  sorrow.  At  the 
last  by  good  keeping,  and  such  meanes  as  by  Phisicke  were  prouided, 

25  she  came  againe  to  hir  selfe,  vnto  whom  I  writ  many  letters  to  take 
patiently  the  death  of  him,  whose  life  could  not  be  recalled,  diuers 
she  aunswered,  which  I  will  shewe  you  at  my  better  leasure. 

But  this  was  most  straunge,  that  no  sute  coulde  allure  hir  againe 
to  loue,  but  euer  shee  lyued  all  in  blacke,  not  once  comming  where 

30  she  was  most  sought  for.  But  with-in  the  terme  of  flue  yeares,  she 
began  a  lyttle  to  lysten  to  mine  old  sute,  of  whose  faithfull  meaning 
she  had  such  tryall,  as  she  coulde  not  thinke  that  either  my  loue  was 
buylded  vppon  lust,  or  deceipt. 

But  destenie  cut  off  my  loue,  by  the  cutting  off  hir  lyfe,  for  falling 

35  into  a  hot  pestilent  feuer,  she  dyed,  and  how  I  tooke  it,  I  meane  not 

8  matter]  -ter  M         pa  before  heate  AB        not  om.  E  rest         14  using  BE 
20  these]  this  E  rest  22  doubling  ABGF  rest:    doubting  E  scritches 

BGE:   scrieches  F  rest         24  was  E  rest         26  diuerse  E-H         38  was]  is 
Erest 


8o  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

to  tell  it :  but  forsaking  the  Court  presently,  I  haue  heere  lyued  euer 
since,  and  so  meane  vntill  Death  shall  call  me. 

TVJOw  Gentlemen  I  haue  helde  you  too  long,  I  feare  me,  but 
•*•  I  haue  ended  at  the  last.  You  see  what  Loue  is,  begon  with 
griefe,  continued  with  sorrowe,  ended  with  death.  A  paine  full  of  5 
pleasure,,  a  ioye  replenished  with  misery,  a  Heauen,  a  Hell,  a  God, 
a  Diuell,  and  what  not,  that  either  hath  in  it  solace  or  sorrowe? 
Where  the  dayes  are  spent  in  thoughts,  the  nights  in  dreames,  both 
in  daunger,  either  beguylyng  vs  of  that  we  had,  or  promising  vs  that 
we  had  not.  Full  of  iealousie  with-out  cause,  and  voyde  of  feare  10 
when  there  is  cause :  and  so  many  inconueniences  hanging  vpon  it, 
as  to  recken  them  all  were  infinite,  and  to  taste  but  one  of  them, 
intolerable. 

Yet  in  these  dayes,  it  is  thought  the  signes  of  a  good  wit,  and  the 
only  vertue  peculyar  to  a  courtier,  For  loue  they  say  is  in  young  15 
Gentlemen,  in  clownes  it  is  lust,  in  olde  men  dotage,  when  it  is  in  al 
menne,  madnesse. 

But  you  Philautus,  whose  bloud  is  in  his  chiefest  heate,  are  to 
take  great  care,  least  being  ouer-warmed  with  loue,  it  so  inflame  the 
liuer,  as  it  driue  you  into  a  consumption.  20 

And  thus  the  olde  man  brought  them  into  dinner,  wher  they 
hauing  taken  their  repast,  Philautus  aswell  in  the  name  of  Euphues 
as  his  own,  gaue  this  answer  to  the  old  mans  tale,  and  these  or  the 
like  thankes  for  his  cost  and  curtesie. 

Father,   I  thanke   you,   no  lesse  for  your  talke  which  I  found  25 
pleasaunt,  then  for  your  counsell,  which  I  accompt  profitable,  and 
so  much  for  your  great  cheere  and  curteous  entertainment  as  it 
deserueth  of  those  that  can-not  deserue  any. 

I  perceiue  in  England  the  woemen  and  men  are  in  loue  constant, 
to  straungers  curteous,  and  bountifull  in  hospitalitie,  the  two  latter  3° 
we  haue  tryed  to  your  cost,  the  other  we  haue  heard  to  your  paines, 
and  may  iustifie  the  al  whersoeuer  we  become  to  your  praises  and 
our  pleasure.  This  only  we  craue,  that  necessitie  may  excuse  our 
boldnesse,  and  for  amendes  we  will  vse  such  meanes,  as  although  we 
can-not  make  you  gaine  much,  yet  you  shall  loose  little.  35 

i  it  om.  GE  rest  2  I  before  meane  E  rest      till  F  rest        shall  ont.  E  rest 

5  sorrowe]  griefe  E  rest  7  solace]  sence  E  rest  10  had]  haue  GE  rest 

14  the1  om.  E  rest  19  greater  E  rest  21  they]  thy  F  30  later  E 

32  become]  come  1623  33  our1  om.  E  rest  35  leese  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  8i 

Then  Fidus  taking  Philautus  by  the  hand,  spake  thus  to  them 
both. 


Entle-men  and  friendes,   I  am   ashamed  to   receiue   so   many 
thankes  for  so  small  curtesie,  and  so  farre  off  it  is  for  me  to 
5  looke  for  ameds  for  my  cost,  as  I  desire  nothing  more  then  to  make 
you  ammendes  for  your  company,  &  your  good  wills  in  accompting 
well  of  ill  fare  :  onely  this  I  craue,  that  at  your  returne,  after  you 
shall  be  feasted  of  great  personages,  you  vochsafe  to  visitte  the  cotage 
of  poore  jFidus,  where  you  shall  be  no  lesse  welcome  then  lupiter 
10  was  to  Bacchus  :  Then  Euphues. 

We  haue  troubled  you  too  long,  and  high  tyme  it  is  for  poore 
Pilgrimes  to  take  the  daye  before  them,  least  being  be-nighted,  they 
straine  curtesie  in  an  other  place,  and  as  we  say  in  Athens,  fishe  and 
gestes  in  three  dayes  are  stale  :  Not-withstanding  we  will  be  bold  to 
15  see  you,  and  in  the  meane  season  we  thank  you,  and  euer,  as  we 
ought,  we  will  pray  for  you. 

Thus  after  many  farewelles,  with  as  many  welcomes  of  the  one 
side,  as  thankes  of  the  other,  they  departed,  and  framed  their  steppes 
towards  London.     And  to  driue  away  the  time,  Euphues  began  thus 
20  to  instruct  Philautus. 

HPHou  seest  Philautus  the  curtesie  of  England  to  surpasse,  and 

the   constancie   (if   the    olde    Gentleman    tolde    the   trueth) 

to  excell,  which  warneth  vs  both  to  be  thankfull  for  the  benefits 

we  receiue,  and  circumspect  in  the  behauiour  we  vse,  least  being 

25  vnmindfull  of  good  turnes,  we  bee  accompted  ingrate,  and  being 

dissolute  in  our  Hues,  we  be  thought  impudent. 

When  we  come  into  London,  wee  shall  walke  in  the  garden  of 
the  worlde,  where  amonge  many  flowers  we  shall  see  some  weedes, 
sweete  Roses  and  sharpe  Nettles,  pleasaunt  Lillyes  and  pricking 
30  Thornes,  high  Uines  and  lowe  Hedges.  All  thinges  (as  the  fame 
goeth)  that  maye  eyther  please  the  sight,  or  dislike  the  smell,  eyther 
feede  the  eye  with  delight,  or  fill  the  nose  with  infection. 

Then  good  Philautus  lette  the  care  I  haue  of  thee  be  in  steede 
of  graue   counsell,  and  my  good  will   towardes  thee  in  place  of 
35  wisdome. 

I   hadde  rather   thou   shouldest   walke   amonge  the   beddes   of 

6  will  GE  rest        14  gestes  (cf.p,  150,  /.  17)  :  gesse  M-E\  ghesse  FH:  geese 
1617-36  1  8  as]  and  E  rest  19  thus  om.  E  rest  20  to  om.  A 

24  the  om.  AB  34  counselll  M 

BOND  II  G 


82  EUPHUES  AND  HIS  ENGLAND 

wolsome  potte-hearbes,  then  the  knottes  of  pleasaunt  flowers,  and 
better  shalt  thou  finde  it  to  gather  Garlyke  for  thy  stomack,  then 
a  sweete  Uiolet  for  thy  sences. 

I  feare  mee  Philautus,  that  seeing  the  amyable  faces  of  the 
Englyshe  Ladyes,  thou  wilt  cast  of  all  care  both  of  my  counsayle  5 
and  thine  owne  credit.  For  wel  I  know  that  a  fresh  coulour  doth 
easily  dim  a  quicke  sight,  that  a  sweete  Rose  doth  soonest  pearce 
a  fine  sent,  that  pleasaunt  sirroppes  doth  chiefeliest  infecte  a  delicate 
taste,  that  beautifull  woemen  do  first  of  all  allure  them  that  haue  the 
wantonnest  eyes  and  the  whitest  mouthes.  i° 

A  straunge  tree  there  is,  called  Alpina,  which  bringeth  forth  the 
fayrest  blossomes  of  all  trees,  which  the  Bee  eyther  suspecting  to  be 
venemous,  or  misliking  bicause  it  is  so  glorious,  neither  tasteth  it, 
nor  commeth  neere  it. 

In  the  like  case  Philautus  would  I  haue  thee  to  imitate  the  Bee,  15 
that  when  thou  shalt  beholde  the  amiable  blossomes  of  the  Alpine 
tree  in  any  woemanne,  thou  shunne  them,  as  a  place  infected  eyther 
with  poyson  to  kill  thee,  or  honnye  to  deceiue  thee :  For  it  were 
more  conuenient  thou  shouldest  pull  out  thine  eyes  and  Hue  with-out 
loue,  then  to  haue  them  cleare  and  be  infected  with  lust.  20 

Thou  must  chuse  a  woeman  as  the  Lapidarie  doth  a  true  Saphire, 
who  when  he  seeth  it  to  glister,  couereth  it  with  oyle,  &  then  if  it 
shine,  he  alloweth  it,  if  not,  hee  breaketh  it :  So  if  thou  fall  in  loue 
with  one  that  is  beautifull,  cast  some  kynde  of  coulour  in  hir  face, 
eyther  as  it  were  mislykinge  hir  behauiour,  or  hearing  of  hir  light-  25 
nesse,  and  if  then  shee  looke  as  fayre  as  before,  wooe  hir,  win  hir, 
and  weare  hir. 

Then  my  good  friende,  consider  with  thy  selfe  what  thou  art,  an 
Italian^  where  thou  art,  in  England,  whome  thou  shalt  loue  if  thou 
fall  into  that  vaine,  an  Aungell :  let  not  thy  eye  go  beyond  thy  eare,  30 
nor  thy  tongue  so  farre  as  thy  feete. 

And  thus  I  coniure  thee,  that  of  all  thinges  thou  refrayne  from  the 
hot  fire  of  affection. 

For  as  the  precious  stone  Anthradtis  beeing  throwne  into  the  fyre 
looketh  blacke  and  halfe  dead,  but  being  cast  into  the  water  glistreth  35 
like  the  Sunne  beames  :  so  the  precious  minde  of  man  once  put  into 
the  flame  of  loue,  is  as  it  were  vglye,  and  loseth  his  vertue,  but 

I  wholesome  A  rest  25  myslylinge  M  30  thy1]  the  AB  31 

so]  as  E  rest  thy2]  the  AB  32  that  repeated  before  thou  M-G  34 

Autharsitis  alleds.  37  his]  hir  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  83 

sprinckled  with  the  water  of  wisdome,  and  detestation  of  such  fond 
delightes,  it  shineth  like  the  golden  rayes  of  Phoebus. 

And  it  shall  not  be  amisse,  though  my  Phisicke  be  simple,  to 
prescribe  a  straight  diot  before  thou  fall  into  thine  olde  desease. 

5  First  let  thy  apparell  be  but  meane,  neyther  too  braue  to  shew  thy 
pride,  nor  too  base  to  bewray  thy  pouertie,  be  as  careful  to  keepe  thy 
mouth  from  wine,  as  thy  fingers  from  fyre.  Wine  is  the  glasse  of  the 
minde,  and  the  onely  sauce  that  Bacchus  gaue  Ceres  when  he  fell  in 
loue :  be  not  daintie  mouthed,  a  fine  taste  noteth  the  fond  appetites, 

10  that  Venus  sayde  hir  Adonis  to  haue,  who  seing  him  to  take  chiefest 
delight  in  coastle  cates,  smyling  sayd  this.  I  am  glad  that  my  Adonis 
hath  a  sweete  tooth  in  his  head,  and  who  knoweth  not  what  followeth? 
But  I  will  not  wade  too  farre,  seeing  heeretofore  as  wel  in  my  cooling 
card,  as  at  diuers  other  times,  I  haue  giuen  thee  a  caueat,  in  this 

15  vanity  of  loue  to  haue  a  care :  &  yet  me  thinketh  the  more  I  warne 
thee,  the  lesse  I  dare  trust  thee,  for  I  know  not  how  it  commeth  to 
passe,  that  euery  minute  I  am  troubled  in  minde  about  thee. 
When  Euphues  had  ended,  Philautus  thus  began. 

TTJ*  Vphues,  I  thinke  thou  wast  borne  with  this  word  loue  in  thy 

20  •*— '  mouth,  or  y*  thou  art  bewitched  with  it  in  minde,  for  ther  is 
scarce  three  words  vttered  to  me,  but  the  third  is  Loue  :  which  how 
often  I  haue  aunswered  thou  knowest,  &  yet  that  I  speake  as  I  thinke, 
thou  neuer  beleeuest :  either  thinking  thy  selfe,  a  God,  to  know 
thoughts,  or  me  worse  then  a  Diuell,  not  to  acknowledge  them. 

35  When  I  shall  giue  anye  occasion,  warne  me,  and  that  I  should  giue 
none,  thou  hast  already  armed  me,  so  that  this  perswade  thy  selfe, 
I  wil  sticke  as  close  to  thee,  as  the  soale  doth  to  the  shoe.  But 
truely,  I  must  needes  commende  the  courtesie  of  England,  and  olde 
JFtdus  for  his  constancie  to  his  Lady  Iffida,  and  hir  faith  to  hir  friende 

30  Thirsus,  the  remembraunce  of  which  discourse  didde  often  bring 
in  to  my  minde  the  hate  I  bore  to  Lucilla,  who  loued  all,  and  was 
not  found  faithfull  to  any.  But  I  lette  that  passe,  least  thou  come 
in  againe  with  thy  fa-burthen,  and  hit  me  in  the  teeth  with  loue,  for 
thou  hast  so  charmed  me,  that  I  dare  not  speake  any  word  that  may 

35  be  wrested  to  charitie,  least  thou  say,  I  meane  Loue,  and  in  truth, 
I  thinke  there  is  no  more  difference  betweene  them,  then  betweene 
a  Broome,  and  a  Beesome. 

2  golden]  glorious  E  rest  n  costly  A  rest  21  scare  E  26 

armed]  warned  E  rest  27  doth  om.  E  rest  the2]  thy  H  rest  shoe] 

show  1617,  1630-31  31  bare  ABE  rest 

G  2 


84  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

I  will  follow  thy  dyot  and  thy  counsayle,  I  thanke  thee  for  thy 
good  will,  so  that  I  wil  now  walke  vnder  thy  shadowe  and  be  at  thy 
commaundement :  Not  so  aunswered  Euphues,  but  if  thou  follow  me, 
I  dare  be  thy  warrant  we  will  not  offend  much.  Much  talke  ther 
was  in  the  way,  which  much  shortned  their  way :  and  at  last  they  5 
came  to  London,  where  they  met  diuers  straungers  of  their  friends, 
who  in  small  space  brought  them  familiarly  acquainted  with  certaine 
English  gentlemen  who  much  delighted  in  ye  company  of  Euphues, 
who  they  found  both  sober  &  wise,  yet  some  times  mery  &  pleasant. 
They  wer  brought  into  al  places  of  ye  citie,  &  lodged  at  ye  last  in  10 
a  Merchaunts  house,  wher  they  cotinued  till  a  certeine  breach.  They 
vsed  continually  the  Court,  in  ye  which  Euphues  tooke  such  delyght, 
y*  he  accepted  al  ye  praises  he  hard  of  it  before,  rather  to  be  enuious, 
the  otherwise,  &  to  be  parciall,  in  not  giuing  so  much  as  it  deserued, 
&  yet  to  be  pardoned  bicause  they  coulde  not.  It  happened  y*  these  15 
English  gentlemen  conducted  these  two  straungers  to  a  place,  where 
diuers  gentlewome  wer  :  some  courtiers,  others  of  ye  country  :  Wher 
being  welcome,  they  frequeted  almost  euery  day  for  ye  space  of  one 
moneth,  enterteining  of  time  in  courtly  pastimes,  though  not  in  ye 
court,  inso  much  yt  if  they  came  not,  they  wer  sent  for,  &  so  vsed  as  20 
they  had  ben  countryme,  not  straungers.  Philautus  w*  this  continual 
accesse  &  ofte  coference  wt  gentlewome,  began  to  weane  himselfe 
fro  y®  counsaile  of  Euphues,  &  to  wed  his  eyes  to  the  comelines  of 
Ladies,  yet  so  warily  as  neither  his  friend  could  by  narrow  watching 
discouer  it,  neither  did  he  by  any  wanto  countenance,  bewray  it,  but  25 
carying  the  Image  of  Loue,  engrauen  in  ye  bottome  of  his  hart, 
&  the  picture  of  courtesie,  imprinted  in  his  face,  he  was  thought  to 
Euphues  courtly,  and  knowen  to  himselfe  comfortlesse.  Among 
a  number  of  Ladyes  he  fixed  his  eyes  vpon  one,  whose  countenaunce 
seemed  to  promise  mercy,  &  threaten  mischief,  intermedling  a  desire  30 
of  liking,  with  a  disdain  of  loue  :  shewing  hir  selfe  in  courtesie  to  be 
familyar  with  al,  &  with  a  certein  comly  pride  to  accept  none,  whose 
wit  wold  comonly  taunt  wfcout  despite,  but  not  w*out  disport,  as  one 
y*  seemed  to  abhorre  loue  worse  then  lust,  &  lust  worse  then  murther, 
of  greater  beautie  the  birth,  &  yet  of  lesse  beautie  the  honestie,  which  35 
gate  hir  more  honor  by  vertue  then  nature  could  by  Arte,  or  fortune 
might  by  promotio.  She  was  redy  of  answer,  yet  wary  :  shril  of 

2  thy1]  the  AB  1623          5  the  before  last  E  rest         10  at  ye]  the  at  A          13 
it  om.  E  rest  14  in  om.  A  rest  21  this]  his  E  rest  27  to]  cf. 

p.  165,  /.  10  36  gate  hir]  gather  £  1623 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  85 

speach,  yet  sweet :  in  al  hir  passios  so  temperate,  as  in  hir  greatest 
mirth  none  wold  think  hir  wanton,  neither  in  hir  deepest  grief  solum, 
but  alwaies  to  looke  w*  so  sober  cheerfulnes,  as  it  was  hardly  thought 
wher  she  wer  more  comeded  for  hir  grauitie  of  ye  aged,  or  for  hir 
5  courtlines  of  ye  youth :  oftentimes  delighted  to  heare  discourses  of 
loue,  but  euer  desirous  to  be  instructed  in  learning  :  somwhat  curious 
to  keepe  hir  beautie,  which  made  hir  comly,  but  more  careful  to 
increase  hir  credit,  which  made  hir  comendable  :  not  adding  ye  length 
of  a  haire  to  courtlines,  y*  might  detract  ye  bredth  of  a  haire  fro 

10  chastitie :  In  al  hir  talke  so  pleasant,  in  al  hir  lookes  so  amiable,  so 
graue  modestie  ioyned  with  so  wittie  mirth,  y*  they  y*  wer  entangled 
w*  hir  beautie,  wer  inforced  to  prefer  hir  wit  before  their  wils  : 
&  they  y*  loued  hir  vertue,  wer  compelled  to  prefer  their  affections 
before  hir  wisdome :  Whose  rare  qualyties,  caused  so  straunge  euents, 

15  y*  the  wise  wer  allured  to  vanitie,  &  the  wantons  to  vertue,  much 
lyke  ye  riuer  in  Arabia,  which  turneth  golde  to  drosse,  &  durt  to 
siluer.  In  conclusion,  ther  wanted  nothing  in  this  English  Angell 
y*  nature  might  adde  for  perfection,  or  fortune  cooild  giue  for  wealth, 
or  god  doth  comonly  bestow  on  mortal  creatures  :  And  more  easie  it 

20  is  in  ye  descriptio  of  so  rare  a  personage,  to  imagine  what  she  had 
not,  then  to  repeat  al  she  had.  But  such  a  one  she  was,  as  almost 
they  all  are  y*  serue  so  noble  a  Prince,  such  virgins  cary  lights  before 
such  a  J^es fa,  such  Nymph es,  arrowes  w*  such  a  Diana.  But  why  go 
I  about  to  set  hir  in  black  &  white,  whome  Philautus  is  now  w*  all 

25  colours  importraying  in  ye  Table  of  his  hart.  And  surely  I  think  by 
this  he  is  half  mad,  whom  log  since,  I  left  in  a  great  maze.  Philautus 
viewing  all  these  things,  &  more  the  I  haue  vttered  (for  y*  the  louers 
eye  perceth  deeper)  wythdrew  himself  secretly  into  his  lodging  and 
locking  his  dore,  began  to  debate  with  himselfe  in  this  manner. 

30  A  H  thrice  vnfortunate  is  he  that  is  once  faithful,  and  better  it  is  to 
•**•  be  a  mercilesse  souldiour,  then  a  true  louer :  the  one  liueth  by 
an  others  death,  ye  other  dyeth  by  his  owne  life.  What  straunge 
fits  be  these  Philautus  y*  burne  thee  with  such  a  heate,  y*  thou 
shakest  for  cold,  &  all  thy  body  in  a  shiuering  sweat,  in  a  flaming 

35  yce,  melteth  like  wax  &  hardeneth  like  the  Adamant  ?  Is  it  loue  ? 
then  would  it  were  death :  for  likelyer  it  is  y*  I  should  loose  my  life, 

2  sullom  B\  sullen  GE  rest  4  wher  MEF\    where  AB\  whether  H  rest 

(for  which  wher  is  prob.  an  abbreviation]  hir]  ye  E  rest  10  amible  A 

13  vertue]  beautie  E  rest         15  vanities  ABE  rest         22  all  they  E  rest        29 
his]  the  GE  rest        35  the]  that  //  rest        Adamat  M         36  should]  would  EF 


86  EUPHUES  AND  HIS  ENGLAND 

then  win  my  Loue.  Ah  Camilla,  but  why  do  I  name  thee,  when 
thou  dost  not  heare  me,  Camilla,  name  thee  I  will,  though  thou  hate 
me.  But  alas  ye  sound  of  thy  name  doth  make  me  sofld  for  grief. 
What  is  in  me  y*  thou  shouldest  not  dispise,  &  what  is  ther  not  in 
thee  that  I  should  not  wonder  at.  Thou  a  woman,  ye  last  thing  God  5 
made,  &  therefore  ye  best.  I  a  man  yb  could  not  Hue  without  thee, 
&  therfore  ye  worst.  Al  things  wer  made  for  man,  as  a  souereign, 
and  man  made  for  woman,  as  a  slaue.  O  Camilla,  woulde  either 
thou  hadst  ben  bred  in  Italy,  or  I  in  England,  or  wold  thy  vertues 
wer  lesse  then  thy  beautie,  or  my  vertues  greater  then  my  affections.  10 

I  see  that  India  bringeth  golde,  but  England  breedeth  goodnesse : 
And  had  not  England  beene  thrust  into  a  corner  of  the  world  it 
would  haue  filled  ye  whole  world  with  woe.  Where  such  women  are 
as  we  haue  talked  of  in  Italy,  heard  of  in  Rome,  read  of  in  Greece, 
but  neuer  found  but  in  this  Island:  And  for  my  part  (I  speake  softly,  15 
bicause  I  will  not  heare  my  selfe)  would  there  were  none  such  here, 
or  such  euery  wher.  Ah  fond  Euphues  my  deere  friend,  but  a  simple 
foole  if  thou  beleeue  now  thy  cooling  Garde,  and  an  obstinate  foole 
if  thou  do  not  recant  it.  But  it  may  be  thou  layest  that  Garde  for 
ye  eleuation  of  Naples  like  an  Astronomer.  If  it  wer  so  I  forgiue  20 
thee,  for  I  must  beleeue  thee :  if  for  the  whole  world,  behold  England, 
wher  Camilla  was  borne,  the  flower  of  courtesie,  the  picture  of 
comelynesse :  one  that  shameth  Venus,  beeing  some-what  fairer,  but 
much  more  vertuous,  and  stayneth  Diana  being  as  chast,  but  much 
more  amiable.  I  but  Philautus  ye  more  beuti  she  hath,  ye  more  25 
pride,  &  ye  more  vertue  ye  more  precisenes.  The  Pecock  is  a  Bird 
for  none  but  luno,  the  Doue  for  none  but  Vesta  :  None  must  wear 
Venus  in  a  Tablet,  but  Alexander,  none  Pallas  in  a  ring  but  Vlysses. 
For  as  there  is  but  one  Phoenix  in  the  world,  so  is  there  but  one 
tree  in  Arabia,  where-in  she  buyldeth,  and  as  there  is  but  one  Camilla  3° 
to  be  heard  off,  so  is  ther  but  one  Cczsar  that  she  wil  like  off.  Why 
then  Philautus  what  resteth  for  thee  .but  to  dye  with  patience,  seing 
thou  mayst  not  lyue  with  plesure.  When  thy  disease  is  so  daungerous 
yt  the  third  letting  of  bloud  is  not  able  to  recouer  thee,  when  neither 
Ariadnes  thrid,  nor  Sibillas  bough,  nor  Medeas  seede,  may  remedy  35 
thy  griefe.  Dye,  dye,  Philautus,  rather  with  a  secret  scarre,  then  an 
open  scorne.  Patroclus  can-not  maske  in  Achilles  armour  without 

3  soud]  swound  H  rest  (except  1623  sound)         8  a  before  woman  E  rest  n 

breedeth]  bringeth  E  rest  18  thy]  the  E  rest  19  corde  H  rest  21 

thee,  if  ...  world.     Behold  M-G ' :    thee,  if  ...  world,  beehould  EF  23 
but]  and  E  rest         28  Table  E  rest         31  there  is  E  rest         one]  on  A 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  87 

a  maime,  nor  Philautus  in  the  English  Court  without  a  mocke.  I  but 
ther  is  no  Pearle  so  hard  but  Viniger  breaketh  it,  no  Diamond  so 
stony,  but  bloud  molly fieth,  no  hart,  so  stif  but  Loue  weakeneth  it. 
And  what  then  ?  Bicause  shee  may  loue  one,  js  it  necessarye  shee 
5  should  loue  thee  ?  Bee  there  not  infinite  in  England,  who  as  farre 
exceede  thee  in  wealth,  as  she  doth  all  the  Italians  in  wisedome,  and 
are  as  farre  aboue  thee  in  all  qualyties  of  the  body,  as  she  is  aboue 
them  in  all  giftes  of  the  minde  ?  Doest  thou  not  see  euery  minute 
the  noble  youth  of  England  frequent  the  Court,  with  no  lesse  courage 
10  then  thou  cowardise.  If  Courtlye  brauery,  may  allure  hir,  who  more 
gallant,  then  they  ?  If  personage,  who  more  valyant  ?  If  wit  who 
more  sharp,  if  byrth,  who  more  noble,  if  vertue,  who  more  deuoute  ? 

When  there  are  all  thinges  in  them  that  shoulde  delyght  a  Ladye, 
and  no  one  thing  in  thee  that  is  in  them,  with  what  face  Philautus 
15  canst  thou  desire  that,  which  they  can-not  deserue,  or  with  what 
seruice  deserue  that,  whiche  so  manye  desyre  before  thee  ? 

The  more  beautye  Camilla  hath,  the  lesse  hope  shouldest  thou 
haue :  and  thinke  not  but  the  bayte  that  caught  thee,  hath  beguiled 
other  Englyshe-men  or  now.  Infanntes  they  canne  loue,  neyther  so 
20  hard  harted  to  despyse  it,  nor  so  symple  not  to  discerne  it. 

It  is  likely  then  Philautus  that  the  Foxe  will  let  the  Grapes  hang 
for  the  Goose,  or  the  English-man  bequeath  beautie  to  the  Italian  ? 
No  no  Philautus  assure  thy  selfe,  there  is  no  Venus  but  she  hath  hir 
Temple,  where  on  the  one  side  Vulcan  may  knocke  but  Mars  shall 
25  enter :  no  Sainte  but  hath  hir  shrine,  and  he  that  can-not  wynne 
with  a  Pater  noster,  must  offer  a  pennye. 

And  as  rare  it  is  to  see  the  Sunne  with-out  a  light,  as  a  fayre 
woeman  with-out  a  louer,  and  as  neere  is  Fancie  to  Beautie,  as  the 
pricke  to  the  Rose,  as  the  stalke  to  the  rynde,  as  the  earth  to  the 
30  reote. 

Doest  thou  not  thinke  that  hourely  shee  is  serued  and  sued  vnto, 
of  thy  betters  in  byrth,  thy  equales  in  wealth,  thy  inferiors  in  no 
respect. 

If  then  she  haue  giuen  hir  fayth,  darest  thou  call  hir  honour  into 
35  suspition  of  falshood  ? 

If  she  refuse  such  vaine  delightes,  wilt  thou  bring  hir  wisdome 
into  the  compasse  of  folly  ? 

I  maime]  maine  MAE        the  om.  H  rest  n  witte^Z?:  wittie,   GE  rest 

15  that  1630-36  only  19  or]  ere  E  rest  Infanntes  so  all  21  Is  it 

E  rest  23  as-assure  M  25  hir]  his  E  rest  28  is  Fancie]  infancie 

E  rest  32  thy3  om.  GE  rest         inferious  ^-1 


88  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

If  she  loue  so  beautiful  a  peece,  the"  wil  she  not  be  vnconstant : 
If  she  vow  virginitie,  so  chast  a  Lady  cannot  be  periured :  and  of 
two  thinges  the  one  of  these  must  be  true,  that  eyther  hir  minde  is 
alreadye  so  weaned  Jrom  loue,  that  she  is  not  to  be  moued,  or  so 
settled  in  loue,  that  she  is  not  to  be  remoued.  5 

I  but  it  maye  bee,  that  so  younge  and  tender  a  heart  hath  not 
yet  feltte  the  impression  of  Loue  :  I  but  it  can-not  bee,  that  so  rare 
perfection  should  wante  that  which  they  all  wish,  affection. 

A  Rose  is  sweeter  in  the  budde,  then  full  blowne.  Young  twigges 
are  sooner  bent  then  olde  trees.  White  Snowe  sooner  melted  then  10 
hard  Yce :  which  proueth  that  the  younger  shee  is,  the  sooner  she 
is  to  bee  wooed,  and  the  fayrer  shee  is,  the  likelier  to  be  wonne. 
Who  wil  not  run  with  Atlanta,  though  he  be  lame?  Who  whould 
not  wrastle  with  Cleopatra,  though  he  were  sicke  ?  Who  feareth  to 
loue  Camilla,  though  he  were  blinde?  15 

Ah  beautie,  such  is  thy  force,  that  Vulcan  courteth  Venus,  she  for 
comlinesse  a  Goddesse,  he  for  vglinesse  a  diuell,  more  fit  to  strike 
with  a  hammer  in  his  forge,  then  to  holde  a  Lute  in  thy  chamber. 

Whether  dost  thou  wade  Philautus  in  launcing  the  wound  thou 
shouldest  taint,  and  pricking  the  heart  which  asketh  a  plaister  :  for  20 
in  deciphering  what  she  is,  thou  hast  forgotten  what  thou  thy  selfe 
art,  and  being  daseled  with  hir  beautie,  thou  seest  not  thine  own 
basenesse.  Thou  art  an  Italian  poore  Philautus,  as  much  misliked 
for  the  vice  of  thy  countrey,  as  she  meruailed  at  for  the  vertue  of 
hirs,  and  with  no  lesse  shame  dost  thou  heare,  then  know  with  griefe,  25 
how  if  any  English-man  be  infected  with  any  mysdemeanour,  they 
say  with  one  mouth,  hee  is  Italionated :  so  odious  is  that  nation  to 
this,  that  the  very  man  is  no  lesse  hated  for  the  name,  then  the 
countrey  for  the  manners. 

O  Italy  I  must  loue  thee,  bicause  I  was  borne  in  thee,  but  if  the  30 
infection  of  the  ayre  be  such,  as  whosoeuer  breede  in  thee,  is  poysoned 
by  thee,  then  had  I  rather  be  a  Bastard  to  the  Turke  Ottomo,  then 
heire  to  the  Emperour  Nero. 

Thou  which  here-tofore  wast  most  famous  for  victories,  art  become 
most  infamous  by  thy  vices,  as  much  disdaied  now  for  thy  beastly-  35 
nesse  in  peace,  as  once  feared  for  thy  battayles  in  warre,  thy  Ccesar 
being  turned  to  a  vicar,  thy  Consulles  to  Cardinalles,  thy  sacred 

4  is  not  to]  may  not  E  rest  18  thy]  hir  E  rest  19  Whither  E  rest 

25-6  griefe,  how  AB\    grief.    How  M ':    the  words  then  know  with  griefe  om. 
E  rest        35-6  bealines  M 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  89 

Senate  of  three  hundred  graue  Counsellors,  to  a  shamelesse  Sinod 

-  of  three  thousand  greedy  caterpillers.  Where  there  is  no  vice 
punished,  no  vertue  praysed,  where  none  is  long  loued  if  he  do  not 
ill,  where  none  shal  be  long  loued  if  he  do  well.  But  I  leaue  to 
5  name  thy  sinnes,  which  no  Syphers  can  number,  and  I  would  I  were 
as  free  from  the  infection  of  some  of  them,  as  I  am  far  from  the 
reckoning  of  all  of  them,  or  would  I  were  as  much  enuied  for  good, 
as  thou  art  pittied  for  ill. 

Philautus  would  thou  haddest  neuer  liued  in  Naples  or  neuer  left 

10  it.  What  new  skirmishes  dost  thou  now  feele  betweene  reason  and 
appetite,  loue  and  wisdome,  daunger  and  desire. 

Shall  I  go  and  attyre  my  selfe  in  costly  apparell,  tushe  a  faire 
pearle  in  a  Murrians  eare  cannot  make  him  white  ?  Shall  I  ruffle 
in  newe  deuices,  with  Chaines,  with  Bracelettes,  with  Ringes  and 

15  Robes,  tushe  the  precious  Stones  of  Mausolus  Sepulchre  cannot 
make  the  dead  carcasse  sweete. 

Shall  I  curie  my  hayre,  coulour  my  face,  counterfayte  courtly- 
nesse  ?  tushe  there  is  no  paynting  can  make  a  pycture  sensible.  No 
no  Philautus,  eyther  swallowe  the  iuyce  of  Mandrak,  which  maye 

20  cast  thee  into  a  dead  sleepe,  or  chewe  the  hearbe  Cheruell,  which 
may  cause  thee  to  mistake  euery  thing,  so  shalt  thou  either  dye  in 
thy  slumber,  or  thinke  Camilla  deformed  by  thy  potion. 

No  I  can-not  do  so  though  I  would,  neither  would  I  though 
I  could.  But  suppose  thou  thinke  thy  selfe  in  personage  comely,  in 

25  birth  noble,  in  wit  excellent,  in  talke  eloquent,  of  great  reuenewes  : 
yet  will  this  only  be  cast  in  thy  teethe  as  an  obloquie,  thou  art  an 
Italian. 

I  but  all  that  be  blacke  digge  not  for  coales,  all  things  that  breede 
in  the  mudde,  are  not  Euets,  all  that  are  borne  in  Italy,  be  not  ill. 

30  She  will  not  think  what  most  are,  but  enquire  what  I  am.  Euerye 
one  that  sucketh  a  Wolfe  is  not  rauening,  ther  is  no  coutrey  but 
hath  some  as  bad  as  Italy,  many  that  haue  worse,  none  but  hath 
some.  And  canst  thou  thinke  that  an  English  Gentleman  wil  suffer 
an  Italian  to  be  his  Riuall?  No,  no,  thou  must  either  put  vp 

35  a  quarrell  with  shame,  or  trye  the  Conibat  with  perill.  An  English 
man  hath  three  qualyties,  he  can  suffer  no  partner  in  his  loue,  no 
straunger  to  be  his  equal,  nor  to  be  dared  by  any.  Then  Philautus 

4  long  om.  A  rest          5  thy]  the  E  rest            Ciphers  A  rest  13  Morians 

F  rest            15  Mausolus  1630-36  :  Mansolus  preceding  eds.  23-4  neither  ... 

could  om.  A  rest           26  oblique  EF           29  are2]  be  E  rest  be]  are  E  rest 
30  think]  enquire  A  rest             32  as  bad  .  .  .  many  om.  E  rest 


90  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

be  as  wary  of  thy  life,  as  careful  for  thy  loue  :  thou  must  at  Rome, 
reuerence  Romulus,  in  Bai(o)tia  Hercules,  in  Englande  those  that  • 
dwell  there,  els  shalt  thou  not  lyue  there. 

Ah  Loue  what  wrong  doest  thou  me,  which  once  beguildest  me 
with  y*  I  had,  &  now  beheaddest  me  for  that  I  haue  not.     The  loue  5 
I  bore  to  Lutilla  was  cold  water,  the  loue  I  owe  Camilla  hoate  fire, 
the  firste  was  ended  with  defame,  the  last  must  beginne  with  death. 

1  see  now  that  as  the  resiluation  of  an  Ague  is  desperate,  and  the 
second  opening  of  a  veyne  deadly,  so  the  renuing  of  loue  is,  I  know 
not  what  to  terme  it,  worse  then  death,  and  as  bad,  as  what  is  worst.  10 
I  perceiue  at  the  last  the  punishment  of  loue  is  to  Hue.     Thou  art 
heere  a  straunger  without  acquaintance,  no  friend  to  speake  for  thee, 
no  one  to  care  for  thee,  Euphues  will  laugh  at  thee  if  he  know  it, 
and  thou  wilt  weepe  if  he  know  it  not.     O  infortunate  Philautus, 
born  in  the  wane  of  the  Moone,  and  as  lykely  to  obtain  thy  wish,  15 
as  the  Wolfe  is  to  catch  the  Moone.     But  why  goe  I  about  to  quench 
fire  with  a  sword,  or  with  affection  to  mortifie  my  loue  ? 

O   my  Euphues,  would  I  had  thy  wit,  or  thou  my  wil.      Shal 
I  vtter  this  to  thee,  but  thou  art  more  likely  to  correct  my  follyes 
with  counsaile,  then  to  comfort  me  with  any  pretie  conceit.     Thou  20 
wilt  say  that  she  is  a  Lady  of  great  credit,  &  I  heere  of  no  counte- 
naunce.     I  but  Euphues,  low  trees  haue  their  tops,  smal  sparkes 
their  heat,  the  Flye  his  splene,  ye  Ant  hir  gall,  Philautus  his  affection, 
which  is  neither  ruled  by  reason,  nor  led  by  appointment.     Thou 
broughtest  me  into  Englande  Euphues  to  see  &  I  am  blynde,  to  25 
seeke  aduentures,  and  I  haue  lost  my  self,  to  remedy  loue,  &  I  am 
now  past  cure,  much  like  Seriphuis  y*  ole  drudge  in  Naples,  who 
coueting  to  heale  his  bleard  eye,  put  it  out.     My  thoughts  are  high, 
my  fortune  low,  &  I  resemble  that  foolish  Pilot,  who  hoyseth  vp  all 
his  sayles,  &  hath  no  winde,  &  launceth  out  his  ship,   &  hath  no  3° 
water.      Ah   Loue   thou  takest  away  my   tast,    &   prouokest  mine 
appetite,  yet  if  Euphues  would  be  as  willing  to  further  me  now,  as 
he  was  once  wily  to  hinder  me,  I  shold  think  my  self  fortunate  & 
all  y*  are  not  amorous  to  be  fooles.     There  is  a  stone  in  the  floud 
of  Thracia,  yfc  whosoeuer  findeth  it,  is  neuer  after  grieued,  I  would  35 
I  had  y*  stone  in  my  mouth,  or  that  my  body  were  in  y*  Riuer,  yt 
either  I  might  be  w*out  griefe,  or  without  lyfe.     And  with  these 

2  Boetia  A  rest  4  beguiledst  F:  beguiled  H  rest  5  that]  that  that 
A  rest             10  not  om.  A             n  it  before  at  E  rest           15  lyke  A  rest          16 
is  to  catch]  to  eate  A  rest        23  his1]  hir  E  rest         25  I  am  E  rest:  I  om.  M-G 
26  I2  om.  .£-1631            37  I  might  either  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  91 

wordes,  Euphues  knocked  at  the  dore,  which  Philautus  opened 
pretending  drousinesse,  and  excusing  his  absence  by  Idlenesse,  vnto 
whom  Euphues  sayd. 

What   Philautus  doest  thou  shunne  the   Courte,  to   sleepe   in 

5  a  corner,  as  one  either  cloyed  with  delight,  or  hauing  surfeited 
with  desire,  beleeue  me  Philautus  if  the  winde  be  in  that  doore, 
or  thou  so  deuout  to  fall  from  beautie  to  thy  beads,  &  to  forsake 
ye  court  to  lyue  in  a  Cloister,  I  cannot  tel  whether  I  should  more 
woder  at  thy  fortune,  or  prayse  thy  wisedome,  but  I  feare  me,  if 

10  I  liue  to  see  thee  so  holy,  I  shall  be  an  old  man  before  I  dye,  or 
if  thou  dye  not  before  thou  be  so  pure,  thou  shalt  be  more  meruayled 
at  for  thy  yeares,  then  esteemed  for  thy  vertues.  In  sooth  my  good 
friende,  if  I  should  tarry  a  yeare  in  England,  I  could  not  abide  an 
houre  in  my  chaber,  for  I  know  not  how  it  cometh  to  passe,  y*  in 

15  earth  I  thinke  no  other  Paradise,  such  varietie  of  delights  to  allure 
a  courtly  eye,  such  rare  puritie  to  draw  a  well  disposed  minde,  y* 
I  know  not  whether  they  be  in  Englande  more  amorous  or  vertuous, 
whether  I  shoulde  thinke  my  time  best  bestowed,  in  viewing  goodly 
Ladies,  or  hearing  godly  lessons.  I  had  thought  no  woman  to  excel 

20  Lima  in  ye  world,  but  now  I  see  yfc  in  England  they  be  al  as  good, 
none  worse,  many  better,  insomuch  y*  I  am  enforced  to  thinke,  y*  it 
is  as  rare  to  see  a  beautifull  woma  in  Englad  w*out  vertue,  as  to  see 
a  faire  woman  in  Italy  w*out  pride.  Curteous  they  are  w*out 
coynes,  but  not  w*out  a  care,  amiable  w*out  pride,  but  not  w^out 

25  courtlines :  mery  w*out  curiositie,  but  not  w*out  measure,  so  y* 
conferring  ye  Ladies  of  Greece,  with  ye  ladies  of  Italy,  I  finde  the 
best  but  indifferet,  &  coparing  both  coutries  with  ye  Ladies  of 
Englad,  I  accept  the  al  stark  naught.  And  truly  Philautus  thou 
shalt  not  shriue  me  like  a  ghostly  father,  for  to  thee  I  will  cofesse 

30  in  two  things  my  extreme  folly,  ye  one  in  louing  Ludlla,  who  in 
copariso  of  these  had  no  spark  of  beautie,  ye  other  for  making 
a  cooling  card  against  wome,  whe  I  see  these  to  haue  so  much 
vertue,  so  y*  in  the  first  I  must  acknowledge  my  iudgement  raw, 
to  discerne  shadowes,  and  rash  in  the  latter  to  giue  so  peremtory 

35  sentence,  in  both  I  thinke  my  selfe,  to  haue  erred  so  much,  that 
I  recant  both,  beeing  ready  to  take  any  penaunce  thou  shalt  enioyne 
me,  whether  it  be  a  faggot  for  Heresie,  or  a  fine  for  Hipocrisie. 
An  Hereticke  I  was  by  mine  inuectiue  against  women,  and  no  lesse 
then  an  Hipocrite  for  dissembling  with  thee,  for  nowe  Philautus 
24  but  not ...  pride,  om.  E  rest  25  vv^ut1]  with  ^-1623 


92  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

I  am  of  that  minde  that  women,  but  Philautus  taking  holde  of  this 
discourse,  interrupted  him  with  a  sodaine  reply,  as  followeth. 

Taye  Euphues,  I  can  leuell  at  the  thoughtes  of  thy  heart  by  the 
words  of  thy  mouth,  for  that  commonly  the  tongue  vttereth 
the  minde,  &  the  out  ward  speach  bewrayeth  ye  inward  spirit.  For  5 
as  a  good  roote  is  knowen  by  a  faire  blossome,  so  is  the  substaunce 
of  the  heart  noted  by  ye  shew  of  the  countenaunce.  I  can  see  day 
at  a  little  hole,  thou  must  halt  cuningly  if  thou  beguile  a  Cripple, 
but  I  cannot  chuse  but  laugh  to  see  thee  play  with  the  bayt,  that 
I  feare  thou  hast  swallowed,  thinking  with  a  Myst,  to  make  my  sight  10 
blynde,  bicause  I  shold  not  perceiue  thy  eyes  bleared,  but  in  faithe 
Euphues,  I  am  nowe  as  well  acquainted  with  thy  conditions  as  with 
thy  person,  and  vse  hath  made  me  so  expert  in  thy  dealyngs,  that 
well  thou  mayst  iuggle  with  the  world,  but  thou  shalt  neuer 
deceiue  me.  15 

A  burnt  childe  dreadeth  the  fire,  he  that  stumbleth  twice  at  one 
stone  is  worthy  to  breake  his  shins,  thou  mayst  happely  forsweare 
thy  selfe,  but  thou  shalt  neuer  delude  me.  I  know  thee  now  as 
readely  by  thy  visard  as  thy  visage :  It  is  a  blynde  Goose  that 
knoweth  not  a  Foxe  from  a  Fearne-bush,  and  a  foolish  fellow  that  20 
cannot  discerne  craft  from  conscience,  being  once  cousened.  But 
why  should  I  lament  thy  follyes  with  griefe,  when  thou  seemest 
to  colour  them  with  deceite.  Ah  Euphues  I  loue  thee  well,  but  thou 
hatest  thy  selfe,  and  seekest  to  heape  more  harms  on  thy  head  by 
a  little  wit,  then  thou  shalt  euer  claw  of  by  thy  great  wisdom,  al  fire  25 
is  not  quenched  by  water,  thou  hast  not  loue  in  a  string,  affection 
is  not  thy  slaue,  yu  canst  not  leaue  when  thou  listest.  With  what 
face  Euphues  canst  thou  returne  to  thy  vomit,  seeming  with  the 
greedy  hounde  to  lap  vp  that  which  thou  diddest  cast  vp.  I  am 
ashamed  to  rehearse  the  tearmes  that  once  thou  diddest  vtter  of  30 
malice  against  women,  and  art  thou  not  ashamed  now  again  to 
recant  the?  they  must  needs  think  thee  either  enuious  vpon  smal 
occasion,  or  amourous  vpon  a  light  cause,  and  then  will  they  all 
be  as  ready  to  hate  thee  for  thy  spight,  as  to  laugh  at  thee  for  thy 
loosenesse.  35 

No  Euphues  so  deepe  a  wound  cannot  be  healed  with  so  light 

20  Fearne-]  fame  E:  feme  F  rest  21  cousened  is  the  catchword  in  M fol.  52 
•verso,  -which  is  followed  in  the  text  of  A  rest ;  but  M  prints  as  the  first  word  of 
the  following  fol.  construed  25  of]  off  A  rest  33  amarous  AB 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  93 

a  playster,  thou  maist  by  arte  recouer  the  skin,  but  thou  canst  neuer 
couer  the  skarre,  thou  maist  flatter  with  fooles  bicause  thou  art  wise, 
but  the  wise  will  euer  marke  thee  for  a  foole.  Then  sure  I  cannot 
see  what  thou  gainest  if  the  simple  condemne  thee  of  flatterie,  and 
5  the  graue  of  folly.  Is  thy  cooling  Garde  of  this  propertie,  to  quench 
fyre  in  others,  and  to  kindle  flames  in  thee?  or  is  it  a  whetstone 
to  make  thee  sharpe  and  vs  blunt,  or  a  sword  to  cut  wounds  in  me 
and  cure  them  in  Euphuesl  Why  didst  thou  write  that  agaynst 
them  thou  neuer  thoughtest,  or  if  thou  diddest  it,  why  doest  thou 

10  not  follow  it  ?  But  it  is  lawfull  for  the  Phisition  to  surfet,  for  the 
sheepeheard  to  wander,  for  Euphues  to  prescribe  what  he  will,  and 
do  what  he  lyst. 

The   sick   patient  must  keepe  a  straight  diot,  the  silly  sheepe 
a  narrow  folde,  poore  Philautus  must  beleeue  Euphues  and  all  louers 

*5  (he  onelye  excepted)  are  cooled  with  a  carde  of  teene,  or  rather 
fooled  with  a  vaine  toy.  Is  this  thy  professed  puritie  to  crye  peccauit 
thinking  it  as  great  sinne  to  be  honest,  as  shame  not  to  be  amorous, 
thou  that  diddest  blaspheme  the  noble  sex  of  women  with-out  cause, 
dost  thou  now  commit  Idolatrie  with  them  with-out  care?  obseruing 

20  as  little  grauitie  then  in  thine  vnbrideled  furie,  as  yu  dost  now  reason 
by  thy  disordinate  fancie.  I  see  now  that  there  is  nothing  more 
smooth  then  glasse,  yet  nothing  more  brittle,  nothing  more  faire 
the  snow,  yet  nothing  les  firm,  nothing  more  fine  then  witte,  yet 
nothing  more  fickle.  For  as  Polypus  vpon  what  rock  soeuer  he 

25  liketh,  turneth  himselfe  into  the  same  likenesse,  or  as  the  bird 
Piralis  sitting  vpon  white  cloth  is  white,  vpon  greene,  greene,  and 
changeth  hir  coulour  with  euery  cloth,  or  as  our  changeable  silk, 
turned  to  ye  Sunne  hath  many  coulours,  and  turned  backe  the 
contrary,  so  wit  shippeth  it  self  to  euery  conceit  being  costant  in 

30  nothing  but  incostancie.  Wher  is  now  thy  conference  with  Atheos, 
thy  deuotion,  thy  Diuinitie?  Thou  sayest  that  I  am  fallen  from 
beautie  to  my  beades,  and  I  see  thou  art  come  from  thy  booke  to 
beastlines,  from  coting  of  ye  scriptures,  to  courting  with  Ladies,  from 
Paule  to  Quid,  from  the  Prophets  to  Poets,  resembling  ye  wanto 

35  DiophantuS)  who  refused  his  mothers  blessing,  to  heare  a  song,  and 
thou  forsakest  Gods  blessing  to  sit  in  a  warme  Sunne.  But  thou 

i  playster]  pastime  ^-1631          i,  2  the]  thy  E  rest         n  shepherad  M        15 
tenne  A  rest  17  not  om.  E  rest  25  lyteth  A  rest  26  a  before  white1 

E  rest          27  hir]  his  E  rest          29  shippeth]  shapeth  E-H\  sharpeth  1617-31  : 
sharpneth  1636          30  in  before  inconstancie  E  rest          thy]  the  AB  32  my 

om.  H  rest        36  warne  E 


94  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Euphues  thinkest  to  haue  thy  prerogatiue  (which  others  will  not 
graunt  thee  for  a  priuiledge)  that  vnder  the  couler  of  wit,  thou  maist 
be  accounted  wise  and,  being  obstinate,  thou  art  to  be  thought 
singuler.  There  is  no  coyne  good  siluer,  but  thy  half-penny,  if  thy 
glasse  glister  it  must  needs  be  gold,  if  yu  speak  a  sgtence  it  must  5 
be  a  law,  if  giue  a  censer  an  oracle,  if  dreame  a  Prophecie,  if  con- 
iecture  a  truth :  insomuch,  y*  I  am  brought  into  a  doubt,  whether 
I  should  more  lament  in  thee,  thy  want  of  gouernement,  or  laugh 
at  thy  fained  grauity  :  But  as  that  rude  Poette  Cherilus  hadde  nothing 
to  be  noted  in  his  verses,  but  onely  the  name  of  Alexander,  nor  that  10 
rurall  Poet  Daretus  any  thing  to  couer  his  deformed  ape,  but  a  white 
curtain,  so  Euphues  hath  no  one  thing  to  shadow  his  shamelesse 
wickednes,  but  onely  a  shew  of  wit.  I  speake  al  this  Euphues,  not 
that  I  enuie  thy  estate,  but  that  I  pitty  it,  and  in  this  I  haue  dis 
charged  the  duetye  of  a  friend,  in  that  I  haue  not  wincked  at  thy  15 
folly.  Thou  art  in  loue  Euphues,  contrarie  to  thine  oth,  thine  honor, 
thine  honestie,  neither  would  any  professing  that  thou  doest,  Hue 
as  thou  doest,  which  is  no  lesse  grief  to  me  then  shame  to  thee : 
excuse  thou  maist  make  to  me,  bicause  I  am  credulous,  but  amends 
to  the  world  thou  canst  not  frame,  bicause  thou  art  come  out  of  20 
Greece,  to  blase  thy  vice  in  England,  a  place  too  honest  for  thee, 
and  thou  too  dishonest  for  any  place.  And  this  my  flat  &  friendly 
deling  if  thou  wilt  not  take  as  I  meane,  take  as  thou  wilt :  I  feare 
not  thy  force,  I  force  not  thy  friendship :  And  so  I  ende. 

Euphues  not    a    little   amased   with   the   discurteous   speach   of  25 
Philautus,  whome  he  sawe  in  such  a  burning  feuer,  did  not  applye 
warme  clothes  to  continue  his  sweate,  but  gaue  him  colde  drink 
to  make  him  shake,  eyther  thinking  so  straunge  a  maladie  was  to 
be  cured  with  a  desperate  medicine,  or  determining  to  vse  as  little 
arte  in  Phisicke,  as  the  other  did  honestie  in  friendshippe,  and  ther-  30 
fore  in  steede  of  a  pyll  to  purge  his  hotte  bloud,  he  gaue  him  a  choake- 
peare  to  stoppe  his  breath,  replying  as  followeth. 

I  had  thought  Philautus,  that  a  wounde  healing  so  faire  could 
neuer  haue  bred  to  a  Fistula,  or  a  bodye  kept  so  well  from  drinke, 
to  a  dropsie,  but  I  well  perceiue  that  thy  fleshe  is  as  ranke  as  the  35 
wolues,  who  as  soone  as  he  is  stricken  recouereth  a  skinne,   but 
rankleth  inwardly  vntill  it  come  to  the  lyuer,  and  thy  stomacke  as 

5  yn]  thou  A  rest        6  a1  om.  E-H        censar  B  :  censure  E  rest      8  thy]  the 
2?  1617  rest        gouerment  M          9  that"]  the  E  rest        Cherillus  E  rest  17 

that]  as  E  rest  24  I  force  not]  nor  E  rest  34  haue  om.  A  rest :  hence 

breed  B  rest  35  perceiued  E  rest  rantke  M 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  95 

quesie  as  olde  Nestors^  vnto  whome  pappe  was  no  better  then  poyson, 
and  thy  body  no  lesse  distempered  then  Hermogenes^  whom  abstinence 
from  wine,  made  oftentimes  dronke".  I  see  thy  humor  is  loue,  thy 
quarrell  ielousie,  the  one  I  gather  by  thine  addle  head,  the  other 

5  by  thy  suspicious  nature :  but  I  leaue  them  both  to  thy  will  and  thee 
to  thine  owne  wickednesse :  pretily  to  cloake  thine  own  folly,  thou 
callest  me  theefe  first,  not  vnlike  vnto  a  curst  wife,  who  deseruing 
a  check,  beginneth  first  to  scolde. 

There  is  nothing  that  can  cure  the  kings  Euill,  but  a  Prince, 

10  nothing  ease  a  plurisie  but  letting  bloud,  nothing  purge  thy  humour, 
but  that  which  I  cannot  giue  thee,  nor  thou  gette  of  any  other, 
libertie. 

Thou  seemest  to  coulour  craft  by  a  friendly  kindnes,  taking  great 
care  for  my  bondage,  that  I  might  not  distrust  thy  follies,  which  is, 

15  as  though  the  Thrush  in  the  cage  should  be  sory  for  the  Nightingale 
which  singeth  on  the  tree,  or  the  Bear  at  the  stake  lament  the  mishap 
of  the  Lion  in  the  forest. 

But  in  trueth  Philautus  though  thy  skin  she  we  thee  a  fox,  thy 
little  skil  tryeth  thee  a  sheep.     It  is  not  the  coulour  that  comendeth 

20  a  good  painter,  but  the  good  coutenance,  nor  the  cutting  that  valueth 
the  Diamond,  but  the  vertue,  nor  the  glose  of  the  tongue  that  tryeth 
a  fried,  but  ye  faith.  For  as  al  coynes  are  not  good  yfc  haue  the 
Image  of  Ccesar,  nor  al  golde  that  are  coyned  with  the  kinges  stampe, 
so  all  is  not  trueth  that  beareth  the  show  of  godlines,  nor  all  friends 

25  that  beare  a  faire  face,  if  thou  pretende  such  loue  to  Euphues,  carry e 
thy  heart  on  the  backe  of  thy  hand,  and  thy  tongue  in  the  palme, 
that  I  may  see  what  is  in  thy  minde,  and  thou  with  thy  fingers  claspe 
thy  mouth.  Of  a  straunger  I  canne  beare  much,  bicause  I  know 
not  his  manners,  of  an  enimy  more,  for  that  al  proceedeth  of  malice, 

30  all  things  of  a  friend,  if  it  be  to  trye  me,  nothing  if  it  be  to  betray 
me :  I  am  of  Scipios  minde,  who  had  rather  that  Hannibal  should 
eate  his  hart  with  salt,  then  Lczlius  grieue  it  with  vnkindenesse :  and 
of  the  lyke  with  L&lius,  who  chose  rather  to  bee  slayne  with  the 
Spaniards,  then  suspected  of  Scipio. 

35  I  can  better  take  a  blister  of  a  Nettle,  then  a  prick  of  a  Rose : 
more  willing  that  a  Rauen  should  pecke  out  mine  eyes,  then  a  Turtle 

2  Hermogineus  M-G:  Hermogeneus  E  rest        4  iealousie  ABFrest:  eialously 
E        thine]  thy  F  rest        the2]  thy  M  5  thy1]  they  M  6  to  cloake] 

cloaking  E  rest  10  ease]  else  E-H          pleurisie  H  20  a]  the  E  rest 

the1]  a  E  rest         21  the3]  a  E  rest          23  are]  is  E  rest        26  the2]  thy  E  rest 
plame  M        33  with2]  by  1617  rest 


96  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

pecke  at  them.  To  dye  of  the  meate  one  lyketh  not,  is  better 
then  to  surfet  of  that  he  loueth  :  and  I  had  rather  an  enemy  shoulde 
bury  me  quicke,  then  a  friende  belye  me  when  I  am  dead. 

But  thy  friendship  Philautus  is  lyke  a  new  fashion,  which  being 
vsed  in  the  morning,  is  accompted  olde  before  noone,  which  varietie  5 
of  chaunging,  being   often-times   noted  of  a  graue  Gentleman  in 
Naples,  who  hauing  bought  a  Hat  of  the  newest  fashion,  &  best 
block  in  all  Italy,  and  wearing  but  one  daye,  it  was  tolde  him  y*  it 
was  stale,  he  hung  it  vp  in  his  studie,  &  viewing  al  sorts,  al  shapes, 
perceiued  at  ye  last,   his  olde  Hat  againe  to  come  into  the  new  10 
fashion,  where-with  smiling  to  himselfe  he  sayde,  I  haue  now  lyued 
compasse,  for  Adams  olde  Apron,  must  make  Eue  a  new  Kirtle : 
noting  this,  that  when  no  new  thing  could  be  deuised,  nothing  could 
be  more  new  then  ye  olde.     I  speake  this  to  this  ende  Philautus,  y* 
I  see  thee  as  often  chaunge  thy  head  as  other  do  their  Hats,  now  15 
beeing   friend   to   Aiax,  bicause   he    shoulde   couer   thee  with  his 
buckler,    now   to    Vlysses,    that  he  may  pleade  for   thee    with  his 
eloquence,  now  to  one,  and  nowe  to  an  other,  and  thou  dealest  with 
thy  friendes,  as  that  Gentleman  did  with  his  felt,  for  seeing  not  my 
vaine,  aunswerable  to  thy  vanities,  thou  goest  about  (but  yet  the  20 
neerest  way)  to  hang  me  vp  for  holydayes,  as  one  neither  fitting  thy 
head  nor  pleasing  thy  humor,  but  whe  Philautus  thou  shalt  see  that 
chaunge  of  friendships  shal  make  thee  a  fat  Calfe,  &  a  leane  Gofer, 
that  there  is  no  more  hold  in  a  new  friend  then  a  new  fashion,  y* 
Hats  alter  as  fast  as  the  Turner  can  turne  his   block,   &  harts  as  25 
soone  as  one  can  turne  his  back,  when  seeing  euery  one  return  to 
his  olde  wearing,  &  finde  it  ye  best,  then  copelled  rather  for  want  of 
others,  then  good  wil  of  me,  thou  wilt  retire  to  Euphues,  whom  thou 
laydst  by  ye  wals,  &  seeke  him  againe  as  a  new  friend,  saying  to  thy 
self,  I  haue  lyued  compasse,  Euphues  olde  faith  must  make  Philautus  30 
a  new  friend.     Wherein  thou  resemblest  those  y*  at  the  first  comming 
of  new  Wine,  leaue  ye  olde,  yet  finding  that  grape  more  pleasaunt 
then  wholesome,  they  begin  to  say  as   Calisthenes  did  to  Alexander, 
yfc  he  had  rather  carous  olde  grains  with  Diogenes  in  his  dish,  the 
new  grapes  wfc  Alexander  in  his  standing  Cup,  for  of  al  Gods  sayd  35 
he,   I  loue  not  Aesculapius.     But  thou  art  willing  to  chaunge,  els 
wouldest  thou  be  vnwilling  to  quarrel,  thou  keepest  only  copany  out 

6  in]  ofZ?  rest         8  it  before  but  A  rest         15  others  A  rest        19  not]  now,  E 
21  either  B  29  againe  om.  A  rest  33  Calisthenes  F  rest :   Calistines 

MAB  :  Callisthines  G  :  Callistenes  E  36  not  om.  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  97 

of  my  sight,  with  Reynaldo  thy  country-man,  which  I  suspecting, 
cocealed,  &  now  prouing  it  do  not  care,  if  he  haue  better  deserued 
ye  name  of  a  fried  then  I,  god  knoweth,  but  as  Achilles  shield  being 
lost  on  ye  seas  by  Vlisses,  was  tost  by  ye  sea  to  ye  Tombe  of  Aiax, 

5  as  a  manifest  token  of  his  right :  so  thou  being  forsaken  of  Reynaldo, 
wilt  bee  found  in  Athens  by  Euphues  dore,  as  ye  true  owner.  Which 
I  speak  not  as  one  loth  to  loose  thee,  but  careful  thou  loose  not  thy 
selfe.  Thou  thinkest  an  Apple  maye  please  a  childe,  &  euery  odde 
aunswere  appease  a  fried.  No  Philautus,  a  plaister  is  a  small 

10  ameds  for  a  broke  head,  &  a  bad  excuse,  will  not  purge  an  ill 
accuser.  A  friend  is  long  a  getting,  &  soone  lost,  like  a  Merchants 
riches,  who  by  tempest  looseth  as  much  in  two  houres,  as  he  hath 
gathered  together  in  twentie  yeares.  Nothing  so  fast  knit  as  glasse, 
yet  once  broken,  it  can  neuer  be  ioyned,  nothing  fuller  of  mettal 

15  then  steele,  yet  ouer  heated  it  wil  neuer  be  hardned,  friedship  is  ye 
best  pearle,  but  by  disdain  thrown  into  vineger,  it  bursteth  rather  in 
peeces,  the  it  wil  bow  to  any  softnes.  It  is  a  salt  fish  yfc  water  canot 
make  fresh,  sweet  honny  yt  is  not  made  bitter  wfc  gall,  harde  golde  y* 
is  not  to  bee  mollified  w*  fire,  &  a  miraculous  friend  y*  is  not  made 

20  an  enimy  w*  cotempt.     But  giue  me  leaue  to  examine  ye  cause  of 

*     thy  discourse  to  ye  quick,  &  omitting  ye  circustance,  I  wil  to  ye 

substance.     The  onely  thing  thou  layest  to  my  charge  is  loue,  &  that 

is  a  good  ornament,  ye  reasons  to  proue  it,  is  my  praising  of  wome, 

but  yt  is  no  good  argument.     Am  I  in  loue  Philautus  ?  w*  whom  it 

25  shold  be  thou  canst  not  conjecture,  &  that  it  shold  not  be  w*  thee, 
thou  giuest  occasion.  Priamus  began  to  be  iealous  of  Hecuba, 
when  he  knew  none  did  loue  hir,  but  when  he  loued  many,  &  thou 
of  me,  whe  thou  art  assured  I  loue  none,  but  thou  thy  self  euery 
one.  But  whether  I  loue  or  no,  I  canot  Hue  in  quiet,  vnlesse  I  be 

3o  fit  for  thy  diet,  wherin  thou  dost  imitate  Scyron  &  Procrustes,  who 
framing  a  bed  of  brasse  to  their  own  bignes,  caused  it  to  be  placed 
as  a  lodging  for  all  passengers,  insomuch  y*  none  could  trauel  yfc  way, 
but  he  was  enforced  to  take  measure  of  their  sheets  :  if  he  wer  to 
long  for  ye  bed,  they  cut  off  his  legs  for  catching  cold,  it  was  no 

35  place  for  a  logis,  if  to  short  they  racked  him  at  legth,  it  was  no  pallet 

4  seas]  Sea  H  rest  7  loth]  doth  E  rest  loose  (bis)}  lose  1623  rest 

9  a3  om.  A  rest         16  brusteth  E         19  to  bee  om.  E  rest         21  circumstances 
E  rest  23  reason  E  rest  24  whome  AB  :   home  E  26  Hecuba] 

Hercules  E  rest  29  in  om.  E  rest  30  Procrustes  1617  rest'.   Pio- 

custes  M-H  31  it  om.  E  rest  35  lungis  EF\   lung  is  H        be  before^ 

short  E 

BOND  II  H 


98  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

for  a  dwarfe  :  &  certes  Philautus,  they  are  no  lesse  to  be  disco- 
mgded  for  their  crueltie,  the  thou  for  thy  folly.  For  in  like  maner 
hast  thou  built  a  bed  in  thine  owne  brains,  wherin  euery  one  must 
be  of  thy  legth,  if  he  loue  yu  cuttest  him  shorter,  either  w*  some 
od  deuise,  or  graue  cousel,  swearing  (rather  the  thou  woldst  not  be  5 
beleued)  yfc  Protogenes  portraid  Venus  wfc  a  sponge  sprinkled  wfc 
sweete  water,  but  if  once  she  wrong  it,  it  would  drop  bloud  :  that 
hir  luorie  Combe  would  at  the  first  tickle  the  haires,  but  at  the 
last  turne  all  the  haires  into  Adders  :  so  that  nothing  is  more  hate- 
full  then  Loue.  If  he  loue  not,  then  stretchest  out  lyke  a  Wyre-  10 
drawer,  making  a  wire  as  long  as  thy  finger,  longer  then  thine  arme, 
pullyng  on  with  the  pincers  with  the  shoemaker  a  lyttle  shoe  on 
a  great  foote,  till  thou  crack  thy  credite,  as  he  doth  his  stitches, 
alleadging  that  Loue  followeth  a  good  wit,  as  the  shadowe  doth  the 
body,  and  as  requisite  for  a  Gentleman,  as  steele  in  a  weapon.  15 

A  wit  sayest  thou  with-out  loue,  is  lyke  an  Egge  with-out  salte, 
and  a  Courtier  voyde  of  affection,  like  salt  without  sauour.  Then 
as  one  pleasing  thy  selfe  in  thine  owne  humour,  or  playing  with 
others  for  thine  owne  pleasure,  thou  rollest  all  thy  wits  to  sifte  Loue 
from  Lust,  as  the  Baker  doth  the  branne  from  his  flower,  bringing  in  20 
Venus  with  a  Torteyse  vnder  hir  foote,  as  slowe  to  harmes  :  hir 
Chariot  drawen  with  white  Swannes,  as  the  cognisance  of  Vesta,  hir 
birds  to  be  Pigeons,  noting  pietie  :  with  as  many  inuentions  to  make 
Venus  currant,  as  the  Ladies  vse  slights  in  Italy  to  make  themselues 
counterfaite.  Thus  with  the  Aegyptian  thou  playest  fast  or  loose,  25 
so  that  there  is  nothing  more  certeine,  then  that  thou  wilt  loue,  and 
nothing  more  vncerteine  then  when,  tourning  at  one  time  thy  tayle 
to  the  winde,  with  the  Hedge-hogge,  &  thy  nose  in  the  winde,  with 
the  Weather-cocke,  in  one  gale  both  hoysing  sayle  &  casting  Anker, 
with  one  breath,  making  an  Alarme  and  a  Parly,  discharging  in  the  30 
same  instaunt,  both  a  Bullet  and  a  false  fire.  Thou  hast  rackte  me, 
and  curtalde  me,  sometimes  I  was  too  long,  sometimes  to  shorte, 
now  to  bigge,  then  too  lyttle,  so  that  I  must  needes  thinke  thy  bed 
monstrous,  or  my  body,  eyther  thy  brains  out  of  temper,  or  my  wits 
out  of  tune  :  insomuch  as  I  can  lyken  thy  head  to  Mercuris  pipe,  35 
who  with  one  stop  caused  Argus  to  stare  and  winke.  If  this  fault 
bee  in  thy  nature,  counsel  canne  do  little  good,  if  in  thy  disease, 


3  braine  #>£T/            5  graue]  greene  H  rest           6  Protagenes  old  eds.  10 

then2]  thou  GE  rest            20  his]  the  A  rest           21  hir1]  the  £"-1623  24 

sleightes  E  rest         29  casting]  weighing  all  eds.         30  allarum  E  rest       32  cur- 
taild  1617,  1630-36            34  brains]  braine  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND  HIS   ENGLAND  99 

phisicke  can  do  lesse  :  for  nature  will  haue  hir  course,  so  that  per- 
swasions  are  needelesse,  and  such  a  mallady  in  the  Marrowe,  will 
neuer  out  of  the  bones,  so  that  medicines  are  bootelesse. 

Thou  sayest  that  all  this  is  for  loue,  and  that  I  beeing  thy  friend, 

5  thou  art  loth  to  wink  at  my  folly  :  truly  I  say  with  Tutty,  with  faire 
wordes  thou  shalt  yet  perswade  me  :  for  experience  teacheth  me, 
that  straight  trees  haue  crooked  rootes,  smooth  baites  sharpe  hookes, 
that  the  fayrer  the  stone  is  in  the  Toades  head,  the  more  pestilent 
the  poyson  is  in  hir  bowelles,  that  talk  the  more  it  is  seasoned  with 

10  fine  phrases,  the  lesse  it  sauoreth  of  true  meaning.  It  is  a  mad 
Hare  y*  wil  be  caught  with  a  Taber,  and  a  foolish  bird  that  staieth 
the  laying  salt  on  hir  taile,  and  a  blinde  Goose  that  commeth  to  the 
Foxes  sermon,  Euphues  is  not  entangled  with  Philautus  charm es. 
If  all  were  in  iest,  it  was  to  broad  weighing  the  place,  if  in  earnest 

1 5  to  bad,  considering  the  person,  if  to  try  thy  wit,  it  was  folly  to  bee  so 
hot,  if  thy  friendship,  mallice  to  be  so  hastie :  Hast  thou  not  read 
since  thy  comming  into  England  a  pretie  discourse  of  one  Phialo, 
concerning  the  rebuking  of  a  friende?  Whose  reasons  although 
they  wer  but  few,  yet  were  they  sufficient,  and  if  thou  desire  more, 

20  I  coulde  rehearse  infinite.  But  thou  art  like  the  Epicure,  whose 
bellye  is  sooner  filled  then  his  eye  :  For  he  coueteth  to  haue  twentie 
dishes  at  his  table,  when  hee  can-not  disgest  one  in  his  stomacke,  and 
thou  desirest  manye  reasons  to  bee  brought,  when  one  might  seme 
thy  turne,  thinking  it  no  Rayne-bowe  that  hath  not  al  coulours, 

25  nor  auncient  armoury,  that  are  not  quartered  with  sundry  cotes,  nor 
perfect  rules  y*  haue  not  thousand  reasons,  and  of  al  the  reasons 
would  thou  wouldest  follow  but  one,  not  to  checke  thy  friende  in 
a  brauerie,  knowing  that  rebuckes  ought  not  to  weigh  a  graine  more 
of  salt  then  suger  :  but  to  be  so  tempered,  as  like  pepper  they  might 

30  be  hoat  in  the  mouth,  but  like  treacle  wholsom  at  the  heart :  so  shal 
they  at  ye  first  make  one  blushe  if  he  were  pale,  and  well  considered 
better,  if  he  were  not  past  grace. 

If  a  friende  offend  he  is  to  be  whipped  with  a  good  Nurses  rodde, 
who  when  hir  childe  will  not  be  still,  giueth  it  together  both  the 

35  twigge  and  the  teate,  and  bringeth  it  a  sleepe  when  it  is  waywarde, 
aswell  with  rocking  it  as  rating  it. 

The  admonition  of  a  true  friend  should  be  like  the  practise  of 

8  the4]  that  ^"-1631         9  the1]  her  GE  rest         16   hot  om.  E  rest  17 

Phiola  E  rest          19  a  before  few  E  rest         they2]  thy  E         thou]  you  E  rest 
24  not  om.  MAB  25  are]  is  E  rest  coates  A  rest  26  a  before 

thousand  B  rest 

H  2 


ioo  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

a  wise  Phisition,  who  wrappeth  his  sharpe  pils  in  fine  sugar,  or  the 
cuning  Chirurgian,  who  launcing  ye  wound  wfc  an  yro,  immediatly 
applyeth  to  it  soft  lint,  or  as  mothers  deale  with  their  childrg  for 
worms,  who  put  their  bitter  seedes  into  sweete  reasons,  if  this  order 
had  beene  obserued  in  thy  discourse,  that  enterlasing  sowre  tauntes  5 
with  sugred  counsell,  bearing  aswell  a  gentle  raine,  as  vsing  a  hard 
snaffle,  thou  mightest  haue  done  more  with  the  whiske  of  a  wand, 
then  now  thou  canst  with  the  prick  of  the  spur,  and  auoyded  that 
which  now  thou  maist  not,  extream  vnkindnesse.  But  thou  art  like 
that  kinde  ludge,  which  Propertius  noteth,  who  condempning  his  10 
friend,  caused  him  for  the  more  ease  to  be  hanged  with  a  silken 
twist.  And  thou  like  a  friend  cuttest  my  throat  with  a  Rasor,  not 
with  a  hatchet  for  my  more  honor.  But  why  should  I  set  downe 
the  orifice  of  a  friend,  when  thou  like  our  Athenians,  knowest  what 
thou  shouldest  doe,  but  like  them,  neuer  dost  it.  Thou  saiest  I  eat  15 
mine  own  words  in  praysing  women,  no  Philautus  I  was  neuer  eyther 
so  wicked,  or  so  witlesse,  to  recant  truethes,  or  mistake  coulours. 
But  this  I  say,  that  the  Ladyes  in  England  as  farre  excell  all  other 
countryes  in  vertue,  as  Venus  doth  all  other  woemen  in  beautie. 
I  flatter  not  those  of  whome  I  hope  to  reape  benefit,  neyther  yet  so  20 
prayse  them,  but  that  I  think  them  women  :  ther  is  no  sword  made 
of  steele  but  hath  yron,  no  fire  made  of  wood  but  hath  smoake, 
no  wine  made  of  grapes  but  hath  leese,  no  woeman  created 
of  flesh  but  hath  faultes  :  And  if  I  loue  them  Philautus,  they 
deserue  it.  25 

But  it  grieueth  not  thee  Philautus  that  they  be  fayre,  but  that 
they  are  chaste,  neyther  dost  thou  like  mee  the  worse  for  com 
mending  theyr  beautie,  but  thinkest  they  will  not  loue  thee  well, 
bicause  so  vertuous,  where-in  thou  followest  those,  who  better 
esteeme  the  sight  of  the  Rose,  then  the  sauour,  preferring  fayre  30 
weedes  before  good  hearbes,  .chusing  rather  to  weare  a  painted 
flower  in  their  bosomes,  then  to  haue  a  wholsome  roote  in  their 
broathes,  which  resembleth  the  fashion  of  your  Maydens  in  Italy, 
who  buy  that  for  the  best  cloth  yfc  wil  weare  whitest,  not  that  wil 
last  longest.  There  is  no  more  praise  to  be  giuen  to  a  faire  face  35 
then  to  a  false  glasse,  for  as  the  one  flattereth  vs  with  a  vaine 
shaddow  to  make  vs  proud  in  our  own  conceits,  so  ye  other 

i  fine  om.  E  rest  4  Raysons  E :    Raisins  F  rest  5  enterlasing  AB  : 

enterlaching  M:   interlasing  GE  rest  8  the2]  a  BE  rest  14  Athenian 

E  rest        15  doest  E  rest          19  other  om.  E  rest  20  so]  to  E  rest  23 

lees  E  rest  33  our  E  rest        in]  in  in  A  37  so  om.  A  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  ioi 

feedeth  vs  with  an  idle  hope  to  make  vs  peeuish  in  our  owne  con 
templations. 

Chirurgians  affyrme,  that  a  white  vaine  beeing  striken,  if  at  the 
fyrst  there  springe  out  bloud,  it  argueth  a  good  constitution  of  bodye : 
5  and  I  thinke  if  a  fayre  woeman  hauing  heard  the  suite  of  a  Louer, 
if  she  blush  at  ye  first  brunt,  and  shew  hir  bloud  in  hir  face,  sheweth 
a  well  dysposed  minde  :  so  as  vertuous  woemenne  I  confesse  are  for 
to  bee  chosen  by  the  face,  not  when  they  blushe  for  the  shame  of 
some  sinne  committed,  but  for  feare  she  should  comitte  any,  al 

10  women  shal  be  as  CcRsar  would  haue  his  wife,  not  onelye  free  from 
sinne,  but  from  suspition :  If  such  be  in  the  Englysh  courte,  if 
I  should  not  prayse  them,  thou  wouldest  saye  I  care  not  for  their 
vertue,  and  now  I  giue  them  their  commendation,  thou  swearest 
I  loue  them  for  their  beautie :  So  that  it  is  no  lesse  labour  to  please 

15  thy  mind,  then  a  sick  mas  mouth,  who  can  realish  nothing  by  the 
taste,  not  that  the  fault  is  in  the  meat,  but  in  his  malady,  nor  thou 
like  of  any  thing  in  thy  hed,  not  that  ther  is  any  disorder  in  my 
sayings,  but  in  thy  sences.  Thou  dost  last  of  all  obiecte  y*  which 
silence  might  well  resolue,  that  I  am  fallen  from  Prophets  to  Poets, 

20  and  returned  againe  with  the  dog  to  my  vomit,  which  GOD  knoweth 
is  as  farre  from  trueth  as  I  knowe  thou  art  from  wisdome. 

What  haue  I  done  Philautus,  since  my  going  from  Naples  to 
Athens,  speake  no  more  then  the  trueth,  vtter  no  lesse,  flatter  me 
not  to  make  me  better  then  I  am,  be-lye  me  not  to  make  me  worse, 

25  forge  nothing  of  malice,  conceale  nothing  for  loue :  did  I  euer  vse 
any  vnseemelye  talke  to  corrupt  youth  ?  tell  me  where  :  did  I  euer 
deceiue  those  that  put  me  in  trust  ?  tell  mee  whome  :  haue  I  com 
mitted  any  fact  worthy  eyther  of  death  or  defame  ?  thou  canst  not 
recken  what.  Haue  I  abused  my  selfe  towardes  my  superiors, 

3°  equalles,  or  inferiors  ?  I  thinke  thou  canst  not  deuise  when  :  But 
as  there  is  no  wooll  so  white  but  the  Diar  can  make  blacke,  no 
Apple  so  sweete  but  a  cunning  grafter  can  chaunge  into  a  Crabbe  : 
so  is  there  no  man  so  voyde  of  cryme  that  a  spightful  tongue  cannot 
make  him  to  be  thought  a  caitife,  yet  commonly  it  falleth  out  so 

35  well  that  the  cloth  weareth  the  better  being  dyed,  and  the  Apple 
eateth  pleasaunter  beeing  grafted,  and  the  innocentte  is  more 
esteemed,  and  thriueth  sooner  being  enuied  for  vertue,  and  belyed 

i  owne  om.  E  rest  4  constituion  M  7  for  om.  E  rest  10  shal]  should 
E  rest  12  should]  Sould  A  thou  wouldest]  then  wouldest  A  :  the  wouldst 

thou  B  rest  31  it  before  black  E  rest  32  it  before  into  E  rest          36  the 

innocent  AB :  the  innocence  EF\  the  innocencie  H  rest         37  and2]  than  E  rest 


102  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

for  malice.  For  as  he  that  stroke  lason  on  the  stomacke,  thinking 
to  kill  him,  brake  his  impostume  with  ye  blow,  wherby  he  cured 
him :  so  oftentimes  it  fareth  with  those  that  deale  malitiously,  who 
in  steed  of  a  sword  apply  a  salue,  and  thinking  to  be  ones  Priest, 
they  become  his  Phisition.  But  as  the  Traytour  that  clyppeth  the  5 
coyne  of  his  Prince,  maketh  it  lyghter  to  be  wayed,  not  worse  to 
be  touched :  so  he  that  by  sinister  reports,  seemeth  to  pare  the 
credite  of  his  friend,  may  make  him  lighter  amog  the  common  sort, 
who  by  weight  often-times  are  deceiued  with  counterfaites,  but 
nothing  empayreth  his  good  name  with  the  wise,  who  trye  all  gold  ro 
by  the  touch-stone. 

A  Straunger  comming  into  the  Capitol  of  Rome  seeing  all  the 
Gods  to  be  engrauen,  some  in  one  stone,  some  in  an  other,  at  the 
last  he  perceiued  Vulcan,  to  bee  wrought  in  luory,  Venus  to  be 
earned  in  leate,  which  long  time  beholding  with  great  delyght,  at  15 
the  last  he  burst  out  in  these  words,  neither  can  this  white  luory 
Vulcan^  make  thee  a  white  Smith,  neither  this  faire  woman  leat, 
make  thee  a  faire  stone.  Where-by  he  noted  that  no  cunning  could 
alter  the  nature  of  the  one,  nor  no  Nature  transforme  the  colour 
of  the  other.  In  lyke  manner  say  I  Philautus,  although  thou  haue  20 
shadowed  my  guiltlesse  life,  with  a  defamed  couterfait,  yet  shall  not 
thy  black  Vulcan  make  either  thy  accusations  of  force,  or  my  inno- 
cencie  faultie,  neither  shal  the  white  Venus  which  thou  hast  portrayed 
vpon  the  blacke  leat  of  thy  malyce,  make  thy  conditions  amiable, 
for  Vulcan  cannot  make  luory  blacke,  nor  Venus  chaunge  the  coulour  25 
of  leat,  the  one  hauing  receiued  such  course  by  Nature,  the  other 
such  force  by  Uertue. 

What  cause  haue  I  giuen  thee  to  suspect  me,  and  what  occasion 
hast  thou  not  offered  me  to  detest  thee  ?  I  was  neuer  wise  inough 
to  giue  thee  counsaile,  yet  euer  willing  to  wish  thee  well,  my  wealth  3° 
small  to  do  thee  good,  yet  ready  to  doe  my  best :  Insomuch  as  thou 
couldest  neuer  accuse  me  of  any  discurtesie,  vnlesse  it  were  in  being 
more  carefull  of  thee,  then  of  my  selfe.  But  as  all  floures  that  are 
in  one  Nosegay,  are  not  of  one  nature,  nor  all  Rings  that  are  worne 
vppon  one  hande,  are  not  of  one  fashion  :  so  all  friendes  that  asso-  35 
ciate  at  bedde  and  at  boord,  are  not  one  of  disposition.  Scipio  must 
haue  a  noble  minde,  Lcelius  an  humble  spirite :  Titus  must  lust  after 
Sempronia,  Gisippus  must  leaue  hir :  Damon  must  goe  take  order 

7  pare]  paire  E  rest  1 6  burst  into  E  rest  20  I  say  E  rest  36 

at2  om.  Erest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS  ENGLAND  103 

for  his  lands,  Pithias  must  tarry  behinde,  as  a  Pledge  for  his  life : 
Philautus  must  doe  what  he  will,  Euphues  not  what  he  should.  But 
it  may  be  that  as  the  sight  of  diuers  colours,  make  diuers  beasts 
madde  :  so  my  presence  doth  drive  thee  into  this  melancholy.  And 
£  seeing  it  is  so,  I  will  absent  my  selfe,  hier  an  other  lodging  in 
London,  and  for  a  time  giue  my  selfe  to  my  booke,  for  I  haue  learned 
this  by  experience,  though  I  be  young,  that  Bauins  are  knowen  by 
their  bands,  Lyons  by  their  clawes,  Cockes  by  their  combes,  enuious 
mindes  by  their  manners.  Hate  thee  I  will  not,  and  trust  thee 

10  I  may  not :  Thou  knowest  what  a  friende  shoulde  be,  but  thou  wilt 
neuer  Hue  to  trye  what  a  friend  is.  Fare-well  Philautus,  I  wil  not 
stay  to  heare  thee  replye,  but  leaue  thee  to  thy  lyst,  Euphues  carieth 
this  Posie  written  in  his  hande,  and  engrauen  in  his  heart.  A  faith- 
full  friend,  is  a  wilfull  foole.  And  so  I  taking  leaue,  till  I  heare  thee 

J5  better  minded,  England  shall  be  my  abode  for  a  season,  depart  when 
thou  wilt,  and  againe  fare-well. 

Euphues  in  a  great  rage  departed,  not  suffering  Philautus  to 
aunswere  one  word,  who  stood  in  a  maze,  after  the  speache  of 
Euphues,  but  taking  courage  by  loue,  went  immediatelye  to  the 

20  place  where  Camilla  was  dauncing,  and  ther  wil  I  leaue  him,  in 
a  thousand  thoughts,  hammering  in  his  head,  and  Euphues  seeking 
a  new  chamber,  which  by  good  frieds  he  quickly  got,  and  there 
fell  to  his  Pater  noster,  wher  a  while  I  will  not  trouble  him  in  his 
prayers. 

25  ^JOw  you  shall  vnderstand  that  Philautus  furthered  as  well  by  the 

opportunitie  of  the  time,  as  the  requests  of  certeine  Gentlemen 

his  friends,  was  entreated  to  make  one  in  a  Masque,  which  Philautus 

perceiuing   to   be   at   the  Gentlemans  house  where   Camilla  laye, 

assented  as  willyngly  to  goe,  as  he  desired  to  speede,  and  all  things 

30  beeing  in  a  readinesse,  they  went  with  speede :  where  beeing  wel- 
commed,  they  dauced,  Philautus  taking  Camilla  by  the  hande,  and 
as  time  serued,  began  to  boord  hir  in  this  manner. 

IT  hath  ben  a  custome  faire  Lady,  how  commendable  I  wil  not 
dispute,  how  common  you  know,  that  Masquers  do  therfore 
35  couer  their  faces  that  they  may  open  their  affectios,  &  vnder  y9 
colour  of  a  dauce,  discouer  their  whole  desires  :  the  benefit  of  which 

4  presence]  pretence  E         8  their1]  the  E  rest         12  lust  B  rest         13  this] 
his  E  rest  Poesie  ^-1631  29  willing  E  rest  32  in]  on  E  rest 


104  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

priueledge,  I  wil  not  vse  except  you  graunt  it,  neither  can  you 
refuse,  except  you  break  it.  I  meane  only  with  questions  to  trye 
your  wit,  which  shall  neither  touch  your  honour  to  aunswere,  nor  my 
honestie  to  aske. 

Camilla  tooke  him  vp  short,  as  one  not  to  seeke  how  to  reply,  in  5 
this  manner. 


Entleman,  if  you  be  lesse,  you  are  too  bolde,  if  so,  too  broade, 
in  clayming  a  custome,  where  there  is  no  prescription.  I 
knowe  not  your  name,  bicause  you  feare  to  vtter  it,  neither  doe 
I  desire  it,  and  you  seeme  to  be  ashamed  of  your  face,  els  would  10 
you  not  hide  it,  neither  doe  I  long  to  see  it  :  but  as  for  any  custome, 
I  was  neuer  so  superstitious,  that  either  I  thought  it  treason  to  breake 
them,  or  reason  to  keepe  them. 

As  for  the  prouing  of  my  witte,  I  had  rather  you  should  accompt 
me  a  foole  by  silence,  then  wise  by  aunswering?   For  such  questions  15 
in  these  assemblyes,  moue  suspition  where  there  is  no  cause,  and 
therefore  are  not  to  be  resolued  least  there  be  cause. 

Philautus,  who  euer  as  yet  but  played  with  the  bait,  was  now 
stroke  with  the  hooke,  and  no  lesse  delyghted  to  heare  hir  speake, 
then  desirous  to  obtaine  his  suite,  trayned  hir  by  the  bloud  in  this  20 
sort. 

IF  the  patience  of  men  were  not  greater  then  the  peruersenesse 
of  women,  I  should  then  fall  from  a  question  to  a  quarrell, 
for  that  I  perceiue  you  draw  the  counterfaite  of  that  I  would  say, 
by  the  conceit  of  that  you  thinke  others  haue  sayd  :  but  whatsoeuer  25 
the  colour  be,  the  picture  is  as  it  pleaseth  the  Paynter  :  and  what 
soeuer  were  pretended,  the  minde  is  as  the  hart  doth  intend.  A 
cunning  Archer  is  not  knowen  by  his  arrow  but  by  his  ayme  :  neither 
a  friendly  affection  by  the  tongue,  but  by  the  faith.  Which  if  it  be 
so,  me  thinketh  common  courtesie  should  allow  that,  which  you  30 
seeke  to  cut  off  by  courtly  coynesse,  as  one  either  too  young  to 
vnderstand,  or  obstinate  to  ouerthwart,  your  yeares  shall  excuse  the 
one,  and  my  humour  pardon  the  other. 

And  yet  Lady  I  am  not  of  that  faint  minde,  that  though  I  winke 
with  a  flash  of  lyghtening,  I  dare  not  open  mine  eyes  againe,  or  35 

1  1  neither  doe  I  desire  it  :  repeated  from  above  before  neither  E  rest  any]  a 

£  rest          22  not]  no  E  rest  31  seeke]  thinke  E  rest  33  my  humour] 

your  honour  E  rest          the  om.  M  35  with]  at  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  105 

hauing  once  suffered  a  repulse,  I  should  not  dare  to  make  fresh 
assault,  he  that  striketh  sayle  in  a  storme,  hoyseth  them  higher  in 
a  calm,  which  maketh  me  the  bolder  to  vtter  that,  which  you  disdaine 
to  heare,  but  as  the  Doue  seemeth  angry,  as  though  she  had  a  gall, 
5  yet  yeeldeth  at  the  last  to  delight :  so  Ladyes  pretende  a  great  skyr- 
mishe  at  the  first,  yet  are  boorded  willinglye  at  the  last. 

I  meane  therefore  to  tell  you  this  which  is  all,  that  I  loue  you  : 
And  so  wringing  hir  by  the  hand,  he  ended :  she  beginning  as 
followeth. 

10  /^Entleman  (I  follow  my  first  tearme)  which  sheweth  rather  my 
^^  modestie  then  your  desart,  seeing  you  resemble  those  which 
hauing  once  wet  their  feete,  care  not  how  deepe  they  wade,  or  those 
that  breaking  the  yce,  weigh  not  how  farre  they  slippe,  thinking 
it  lawfull,  if  one  suffer  you  to  treade  awry,  no  shame  to  goe  slipshad  : 

15  if  I  should  say  nothing  then  would  you  vaunt  that  I  am  wonne : 
for  that  they  that  are  silent  seeme  to  consent,  if  any  thing,  then  would 
you  boast  that  I  would  be  woed,  for  that  castles  that  come  to  parlue, 
and  woemen  that  delight  in  courting,  are  willing  to  yeelde :  So  that 
I  must  eyther  heare  those  thinges  which  I  would  not,  &  seeme  to 

20  be  taught  by  none,  or  to  holde  you  talke,  which  I  should  not,  and 
runne  into  the  suspition  of  others.  But  certainlye  if  you  knewe  how 
much  your  talke  displeaseth  me,  and  how  litle  it  should  profit  you, 
you  would  think  the  time  as  vainely  lost  in  beginning  your  talke,  as 
I  accompt  ouer  long,  vntill  you  ende  it. 

25  If  you  build  vpon  custome  that  Maskers  haue  libertie  to  speake 
what  they  should  not,  you  shall  know  that  woemen  haue  reason 
to  make  them  heare  what  they  would  not,  and  though  you  can  vtter 
by  your  visarde  what-soeuer  it  be  with-out  blushing,  yet  cannot 
I  hear  it  with-out  shame.  But  I  neuer  looked  for  a  better  tale 

30  of  so  ill  a  face,  you  say  a  bad  coulour  maye  make  a  good  counten- 
aunce,  but  he  that  conferreth  your  disordered  discourse,  w*  your 
deformed  attyre,  may  rightly  saye,  that  he  neuer  sawe  so  crabbed 
a  visage,  nor  hearde  so  crooked  a  vaine.  An  archer  saye  you  is 
to  be  knowne  by  his  ayme,  not  by  his  arrowe :  but  your  ayme  is  so 

35  ill,  that  if  you  knewe  how  farre  wide  from  the  white  your  shaft 
sticketh,  you  would  here-after  rather  break  your  bow,  then  bend 

13  farre]  faroe  E  14  treade]  goe  E  rest          slipshood  A  rest          17  for] 

or  E  rest      ye  before  castles  G     parle  GE  rest        31  w*]  not  M-G\  with  E  rest 
35  white]  marke  E  rest 


106  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

it.  If  I  be  too  young  to  vnderstand  your  destinies,  it  is  a  signe 
I  can-not  like,  if  too  obstinate,  it  is  a  token  I  will  not :  therefore 
for  you  to  bee  displeased,  it  eyther  needeth  not,  or  booteth  not. 
Yet  goe  you  farther,  thinking  to  make  a  great  vertue  of  your  little 
valure,  seeing  that  lightning  may  cause  you  wincke,  but  it  shall  not  5 
stricke  you  blinde,  that  a  storme  may  make  you  strycke  sayle,  but 
neuer  cut  the  mast,  that  a  hotte  skyrmishe  may  cause  you  to  retyre, 
but  neuer  to  runne  away :  what  your  cunning  is,  I  knowe  not,  and 
likely  it  is  your  courage  is  great,  yet  haue  I  heard,  that  he  that  hath 
escaped  burning  with  lightning,  hath  beene  spoyled  with  thunder,  10 
and  one  that  often  hath  wished  drowning,  hath  beene  hanged  once 
for  al,  and  he  that  shrinketh  from  a  bullette  in  the  maine  battaile, 
hath  beene  striken  with  a  bil  in  the  rerewarde.  You  fall  from  one 
thing  to  an  other,  vsing  no  decorum,  except  this,  that  you  study 
to  haue  your  discourse  as  farre  voyde  of  sence,  as  your  face  is  of  1 5 
fauor,  to  the  ende,  that  your  disfigured  countenaunce  might  supplye 
the  disorder  of  your  ill  couched  sentences,  amonge  the  which  you 
bring  in  a  Doue  with-out  a  gall,  as  farre  from  the  matter  you  speake 
off,  as  you  are  from  the  mastrye  you  would  haue,  who  although  she 
can-not  be  angry  with  you  in  that  she  hath  no  gall,  yet  can  she  laugh  20 
at  you  for  that  she  hath  a  spleene. 

I  will  ende  where  you  beganne,  hoping  you  will  beginne  where 
I  end,   you  let  fall  your  question  which  I  looked  for,  and   pickt 
a  quarrell  which  I  thought  not  of,  and  that  is  loue :  but  let  hir  that 
is  disposed  to  aunswere  your  quarrell,  be  curious  to  demaund  your  25 
question. 

And   this   Gentle-manne  I  desire  you,  all   questions  and  other 
quarrelles  set  aparte,  you  thinke  me  as  a  friende,  so  farre  forth  as 
I  can  graunt  with  modestie,  or  you  require  with  good  manners,  and 
as  a  friende  I  wishe  you,  that  you  blowe  no  more  this  fire  of  loue,  30 
which  will  waste  you  before  it  warme  mee,  and  make  a  colde  in  you, 
before  it  can  kindle  in  me  :  If  you  think  otherwise  I  may  aswell  vse 
a  shift  to  driue  you  off,  as  you  did  a  shewe  to  drawe  me  on.     I  haue 
aunswered   your  custome,  least  you   should   argue  me  of  coynes, 
no  otherwise   then  I  might   mine   honour  saued,  and  your  name  35 
vnknowen. 

By  this  time  entered  an  other  Masque,  but  almost  after  the  same 

2  like]  looke  GE  rest  5  saying  E  rest          15  to  om.  B          16  disfugured 

M-B  21  for  that]  because  E  rest  27  this]  thus  A  rest  31  mee]  you  E 
rest  colde]  codle  yi  :  coale  BGEF-.  cole  H  rest  32  can  om.  E  rest  may] 
can  B  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  107 

manner,  and  onely  for  Camillas  loue,  which  Philautus  quickly  espyed, 
and  seeing  his  Camilla  to  be  courted  with  so  gallant  a  youth, 
departed :  yet  with-in  a  corner,  to  the  ende  he  might  decipher  the 
Gentle-man  whom  he  found  to  be  one  of  the  brauest  youthes  in  all 

5  England,  called  Surius,  then  wounded  with  griefe,  hee  sounded  with 
weaknesse^and  going  to  his  chamber  beganne  a  freshe  to  recount  his 
miseries  in  this  sorte. 

Ah  myserable  and  accursed  Philautus,  the  verye  monster  of 
Nature  and  spectacle  of  shame,  if  thou  Hue  thou  shalt  be  despysed, 

10  if  thou  dye  not  myssed,  if  woe  poynted  at,  if  win  lothed,  if  loose 
laughed  at,  bred  either  to  Hue  in  loue  and  be  forsaken,  or  die  with 
loue  and  be  forgotten. 

Ah  Camilla  would  eyther  I  had  bene  born  without  eyes  not  to 
see  thy  beautie,  or  with-out  eares  not  to  heare  thy  wit,  the  one  hath 

15  enflamed  me  with  the  desire  of  Venus,  the  other  with  the  giftes  of 
Pallas,  both  with  the  fire  of  loue  :  Loue,  yea  loue  Philautus,  then 
the  which  nothing  canne  happen  vnto  man  more  miserable. 

I  perceiue  now  that  the  Chariotte  of  the  Sunne  is  for  Phcebus,  not 
for  Phaeton,  that  Bucephalus  will  stoupe  to  none  but  Alexander,  that 

20  none  can  sounde  Mercurius  pipe  but  Orpheus,  that  none  shall  win 
Camillas  liking  but  Surius,  a  Gentlemanne,  I  confesse  of  greater 
byrth  then  f,  and  yet  I  dare  say  not  of  better  faith.  It  is  he 
Philautus  that  will  fleete  all  the  fat  from  thy  bread,  in-somuch  as  she 
will  disdaine  to  looke  vpon  thee,  if  she  but  once  thinke  vppon  him. 

25  It  is  he  Philautus  that  hath  wit  to  trye  hir,  wealth  to  allure  hir, 
personage  to  entice  hir,  and  all  thinges  that  eyther  Nature  or  Fortune 
can  giue  to  winne  hir. 

For  as  the  Phrigian  Harmonic  being  moued  to  the  Calenes  maketh 
a  great  noyse,  but  being  moued  to  Apollo  it  is  still  and  quiet :  so  the 

30  loue  of  Camilla  desired  of  mee,  mooueth  I  knowe  not  how  manye 
discordes,  but  proued  of  Surius,  it  is  calme,  and  consenteth. 

It  is  not  the  sweete  flower  that  Ladyes  desyre,  but  the  fayre, 
whiche  maketh  them  weare  that  in  theyr  heades,  wrought  forth  with 
the  needle,  not  brought  forth  by  Nature :  And  in  the  lyke  manner 

35  they  accompte  of  that  loue,  whiche  arte  canne  coulour,  not  that  the 
heart  dooth  confesse,  where-in  they  imitate  the  Maydens  (as  Euphues 
often  hath  told  mee)  of  Athens,  who  tooke  more  delight  to  see 

5  sounded]  swounded  £:  swouned  FH\  swound  1617  rest  7  on  E  rest 

10  wooe  ABGF  rest  15  the1]  a  E  rest  22  better]  greater  GE  rest 

23  thy]  the  G  (cf.  note'}         beard  all  preceding  eds.         she]  hee  H  rest         28  to 
the  Calenes  so  all  36  dooth]  can  //  rest  37  take  E  rest 


io8  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

a  freshe  and   fine  coulour,  then   to  tast  a  sweete  and  wholsome 
sirrop. 

I  but  howe  knowest  thou  that  Surius  fayth  is  not  as  great  as  thine, 
when  thou  art  assured  thy  vertue  is  no  lesse  then  his  ?     He  is  wise, 
and  that  thou  seest :  valyaunt,  and  that  thou  fearest :  rich,  and  that  5 
thou  lackest :  fit  to  please  hir,  and  displace  thee  :  and  wjthout  spite 
be  it  sayd,  worthye  to  doe  the  one,  and  willing  to  attempt  the  other. 

Ah  Camilla,  Camilla,  I  know  not  whether  I  should  more  commend 
thy  beautie  or  thy  wit,  neither  can  I  tell  whether  thy  lookes  haue 
wounded  me  more  or  thy  words,  for  they  both  haue  wrought  such  an  10 
alteration  in  my  spirites,  that  seeing  thee  silent,  thy  comelynesse 
maketh  me  in  a  maze,  and  hearing  thee  speaking,  thy  wisedome 
maketh  me  starke  madde. 

I  but  things  aboue  thy  height,  are  to  be  looked  at,  not  reached  at. 
I  but  if  now  I  should  ende,  I  had  ben  better  neuer  to  haue  begon.  15 
I  but  time  must  weare  away  loue,  I  but  time  may  winne  it.  Hard 
stones  are  pearced  with  soft  droppes,  great  Oakes  hewen  downe 
with  many  blowes,  the  stoniest  heart  mollyfied  by  cotinuall  perswa- 
sions,  or  true  perseueraunce. 

If  deserts  can  nothing  preuaile,  I  will  practise  deceipts,  and  what  20 
faith  cannot  doe,  coniuring  shall.  What  saist  thou  Philautus,  canst 
thou  imagine  so  great  mischiefe  against  hir  thou  loues't  ?  Knowest 
thou  not,  that  Fish  caught  w*  medicines,  &  women  gotten  with 
witchcraft  are  neuer  wholesom  ?  No,  no,  the  Foxes  wiles  shal  neuer 
enter  into  ye  Lyons  head,  nor  Medeas  charmes  into  Philautus  heart.  25 
I,  but  I  haue  hard  that  extremities  are  to  be  vsed,  where  the  meane 
will  not  serue,  &  that  as  in  loue  ther  is  no  measure  of  griefe,  so 
there  should  be  no  ende  of  guile,  of  two  mischiefes  the  least  is  to  be 
chosen,  and  therefore  I  thinke  it  better  to  poyson  hir  with  the  sweet 
bait  of  loue,  then  to  spoile  my  selfe  with  the  bitter  sting  of  death.  30 

If  she  be  obstinate,  why  should  not  I  be  desperate  ?  if  she  be 
voyd  of  pitie,  why  shoulde  I  not  be  voyde  of  pietie  ?  In  the  ruling 
of  Empires  there  is  required  as  great  policie  as  prowes  :  in  gouerning 
an  Estate,  close  crueltie  doth  more  good  then  open  clemencie,  for 
ye  obteining  of  a  kingdome,  as  well  mischiefe  as  mercy,  is  to  be  35 
practised.  And  then  in  the  winning  of  my  Loue,  the  very  Image 
of  beautie,  courtesie  and  wit,  shall  I  leaue  any  thing  vnsought, 
vnattempted,  vndone?  He  that  desireth  riches,  must  stretche  the 

10  both  om.  E  rest         15  I  should  now  A  rest      begun  GE  rest        24  will  E 
rest       32  not  I  E  rest        33  prowesse :  A  rest,  M  has  no  stop       36  practisee  M 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  109 

string  that  will  not  reach,  and  practise  all  kindes  of  getting.     He 

that  coueteth  honour,  and  can-not  clymbe  by  the  ladder,  must  vse 

al  colours  of  lustinesse :  He  that  thirsteth  for  Wine,  must  not  care 

how  he  get  it,  but  wher  he  maye  get  it,  nor  he  that  is  in  loue,  be 
5  curious,  what  meanes  he  ought  to  vse  but  redy  to  attempt  any :  For 

slender  affection  do  I  think  that,  which  either  the  feare  of  Law,  or 

care  of  Religion  may  diminish. 

Fye  Philautus^  thine  owne  wordes  condempne  thee  of  wickednesse  : 

tush  the  passions  I  sustaine,  are  neither  to  be  quieted  with  coun- 
10  saile,  nor  eased  by  reason  :  therefore  I  am  fully  resolued,  either  by 

Arte  to  winne  hir  loue,  or  by  despayre  to  loose  mine  owne  lyfe. 
I  haue  hearde  heere  in  London  of  an  Italian,  cunning  in  Mathe- 

maticke  named  Psellus,  of  whome  in  Italy  I  haue  hearde  in  suche 

cases  canne  doe  much  by  Magicke,  and  will  doe  all  thinges  for 
15  money,  him  will  I  assaye,  as  well  with  golde  as  other  good  tournes, 

and  I  thinke  there  is  nothing  that  can  be  wrought,  but  shal  be 

wrought  for  gylt,  or  good  wil,  or  both. 

And  in  this  rage,  as  one  forgetting  where  hee  was,  and  whome  hee 

loued,  hee  went  immediately  to  seeke  Phisicke  for  that,  which  onely 
20  was  to  bee  found  by  Fortune. 

HEere  Gentlemen  you  maye  see,  into  what  open  sinnes  the  heate 
of  Loue  driueth  man,  especially  where  one  louing  is  in  dis- 
payre,  either  of  his  owne  imperfection  or  his  Ladyes  vertues,  to  bee 
beloued  againe,  which  causeth  man  to  attempt  those  thinges,  that  are 
25  contrarie  to  his  owne  mind,  to  Religion,  to  honestie. 

What  greater  villany  can  there  be  deuised,  then  to  enquire  of 
Sorcerers,  South-sayers,  Coniurers,  or  learned  Clearkes  for  the 
enioying  of  loue  ?  But  I  will  not  refell  that  heere,  which  shall  bee 
confuted  heere-after. 

30  Philautus  hath  soone  founde  this  Gentleman,  who  conducting 
him  into  his  studie,  and  demaunding  of  him  the  cause  of  his 
comming,  Philautus  beginneth  in  this  manner,  as  one  past  shame  to 
vnfold  his  sute. 

TV/T  Aster  Psellus  (and  Countrey-man,)   I  neyther  doubt  of  your 
35  ^   -*•      cunning  to  satisfie  my  request,  nor  of  your  wisedome   to 
conceale  it,  for  were  either  of  them  wanting  in  you,  it  might  tourne 
mee  to  trouble,  and  your  selfe  to  shame. 

I   haue  hearde   of  your  learning   to  be  great  in  Magicke,  and 
23  of  before  his2  BE  rest  31  into]  to  E  rest 


no  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

somewhat  in  Phisicke,  your  experience  in  both  to  be  exquisit,  which 
caused  me  to  seeke  to  you  for  a  remedie  of  a  certeine  griefe,  which 
by  your  meanes  maye  be  eased,  or  els  no  wayes  cured. 

And  to  the  ende  such  cures  may  be  wrought,  God  hath  stirred  vp 
in  all  times  Clearkes  of  greate  vertue,  and  in  these  our  dayes  men  5 
of  no  small  credite,  among  the  which,  I  haue  hearde  no  one,  more 
commended  then  you,  which  althoughe  happelye  your  modestye  will 
denye,  (for  that  the  greatest  Clearkes  doe   commonlye   dissemble 
their  knowledge)  or  your  precisenesse  not  graunt  it,  for  that  cunning 
men  are  often  daungerous,  yet  the  worlde  doth  well  know  it,  diuers  10 
haue  tryed  it,  and  I  must  needes  beleeue  it. 

Psellus   not   suffering   him  to  raunge,  yet  desirous  to  know  his 
arrant,  aunswered  him  thus. 

/^Entleman  and  countryman  as  you  say,  and  I  beleeue,  but  of 
^^     that  heereafter:  if  you  haue  so  great  confidence  in  my  cun-  J5 
ning  as  you  protest,  it  may  bee  your  strong  imagination  shall  worke 
yt  in  you,  which  my  Art  cannot,  for  it  is  a  principle  among  vs,  y* 
a  vehement  thought  is  more  auayleable,  then  ye  vertue  of  our  figures, 
formes,   or  charecters.      As  for   keeping  your  cousayle,   in   things 
honest,  it  is  no  matter,  &  in  causes  vnlawful,  I  will  not  meddle.  20 
And  yet  if  it  threaten  no  man  harme,  and  maye  doe  you  good,  you 
shall  finde  my  secrecie  to  be  great,  though  my  science  be  smal,  and 
therefore  say  on. 

PHere  is  not  farre  hence  a  Gentlewoman  whom  I  haue  long  time 

loued,  of  honest  parents,  great  vertue,  and  singular  beautie,  25 
such  a  one,  as  neither  by  Art  I  can  describe,  nor  by  seruice  deserue : 
And  yet  bicause  I  haue  heard  many  say,  that  wher  cunning  must 
worke,  the  whole  body  must  be  coloured,  this  is  hir  shape. 

She  is  a  Uirgin  of  the  age  of  eighteene  yeares,  of  stature  neither 
too  high  nor  too  low,  and  such  was  luno  :  hir  haire  blacke,  yet  30 
comely,  and  such  had  Lceda  :  hir  eyes  hasill,  yet  bright,  and  such 
were  the  lyghtes  of  Venus. 

And  although  my  skill  in  Phisognomie  be  small,  yet  in  my  Judge 
ment  she  was  borne  vnder  Venus t  hir  forhead,  nose,  lyppes,  and 
chinne,  fore-shewing  (as  by  such  rules  we  gesse)  both  a  desire  to  lyue,  35 

3  waie  E  rest  10  more  before  daungerous  A  rest  13  arrant  so  all  20 
cases  A  rest  29  stature]  statute  E  30  nor]  or  E  rest  33 

Phisiognomy  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  in 

and  a  good  successe  in  loue.  In  complection  of  pure  sanguine,  in 
condition  a  right  Sainte,  seldome  giuen  to  play,  often  to  prayer,  the 
first  letter  of  whose  name  (for  that  also  is  necessary)  is  Camilla. 

T I  "His  Lady  I  haue  serued  long,  and  often  sued  vnto,  in-somuch 
5  that  I  haue  melted  like  wax  against  the  fire,  and  yet  liued 

in  the  flame  with  the  flye  Pyrausta.  O  Psellus  the  tormentes  sus 
tained  by  hir  presence,  the  griefes  endured  by  hir  absence,  the 
pyning  thoughtes  in  the  daye,  the  pinching  dreames  in  the  night, 
the  dying  life,  the  liuing  death,  the  ielousie  at  all  times,  and  the 

10  dispaire  at  this  instant,  can  neyther  be  vttered  of  me  with-out  fludes 
of  teares,  nor  heard  of  thee  with-out  griefe. 

No  Psellus  not  the  tortures  of  hell  are  eyther  to  be  compared,  or 
spoken  of  in  the  respect  of  my  tormentes :  for  what  they  all  had 
seuerally,  all  that  and  more  do  I  feele  ioyntly :  In-somuch  that  with 

*5  Sysiphus  I  rolle  the  stone  euen  to  the  toppe  of  the  Hill,  when  it 
tumbleth  both  it  selfe  and  me  into  the  bottome  of  hell :  yet  neuer 
ceasing  I  attempt  to  renewe  my  labour,  which  was  begunne  in  death, 
and  can-not  ende  in  life. 

What  dryer  thirst  could  Tantalus  endure  then  I,  who  haue  almost 

ao  euerye  houre  the  drinke  I  dare  not  taste,  and  the  meate  I  can-not  ? 
In-somuch  that  I  am  torne  vpon  the  wheele  with  Ixion,  my  lyuer 
gnawne  of  the  Vultures  and  Harpies  :  yea  my  soule  troubled  euen 
with  the  vnspeakeable  paines  of  Meg(era,  Tisiphone,  Alecto-.  whiche 
secrete  sorrowes  although  it  were  more  meete  to  enclose  them  in 

25  a  Laborinth,  then  to  sette  them  on  a  Hill :  Yet  where  the  minde 
is  past  hope,  the  face  is  past  shame. 

It  fareth  with  me  Psellus  as  with  the  Austrich,  who  pricketh  none 
but  hir  selfe,  which  causeth  hir  to  runne  when  she  would  rest :  or  as 
it  doth  with  the  Pelicane,  who  stricketh  bloud  out  of  hir  owne  bodye 

30  to  do  others  good  :  or  with  the  Wood  Culuer,  who  plucketh  of  hir 
fethers  in  winter  to  keepe  others  from  colde  :  or  as  with  the  Storke, 
who  when  she  is  least  able,  carrieth  the  greatest  burthen.  So 
I  practise  all  thinges  that  may  hurt  mee  to  do  hir  good  that  neuer 
regardeth  my  paynes,  so  farre  is  shee  from  rewarding  them. 

35  For  as  it  is  impossible  for  the  best  Adamant  to  drawe  yron  vnto  it 
if  the  Diamond  be  neere  it,  so  is  it  not  to  bee  looked  for,  that  I  with 

i  of]  a  E  rest  4  haue  I  E  rest  10  fludds  A  :  flouds  BG:  floods  E  rest 
13  my]  thy  B  17  attempe  M  23  Megera  B :  Megara  E  rest 

Tisiphon  E  27  Ostrich  AB :  Ostiidge  GE  rest  30  hir]  his  G  34  she 
is  E  rest 


ii2  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

all  my  seruice,  suite,  desartes,  and  what  els  so-euer  that  may  draw 
a  woemanne,  should  winne  Camilla,  as  longe  as  Surius,  a  precious 
stone  in  hir  eyes,  and  an  eye  sore  in  mine,  bee  present,  who  loueth 
hir  I  knowe  too  wel,  and  shee  him  I  feare  me,  better,  which  loue  wil 
breed  betweene  vs  such  a  deadly  hatred,  that  beeing  dead,  our  bloud  5 
cannot  bee  mingled  together  like  Florus  and  Aegithus,  and  beeing 
burnt,  the  flames  shall  parte  like  Polinices  and  Eteocles,  such  a  mortall 
enmitie  is  kindled,  that  nothing  can  quench  it  but  death :  and  yet 
death  shall  not  ende  it. 

What  counsell  canne  you  giue  me  in  this  case?  what  comfort?  10 
what  hope  ? 

When  Acontius  coulde  not  perswade  Cydippe  to  loue,  he  practised 
fraude.  When  Tarquinius  coulde  not  winne  Lucretia  by  prayer,  hee 
vsed  force. 

When  the  Gods  coulde  not  obtaine  their  desires  by  suite,  they  15 
turned  them-selues  into  newe  shapes,  leauing  nothing  vndonne,  for 
feare,  they  should  bee  vndonne. 

The  desease  of  loue  Psellus,  is  impatient,  the  desire  extreame, 
whose  assaultes  neyther  the  wise  can  resist  by  pollicie,  nor  the 
valiaunt  by  strength.  20 

lulius  Ctzsar  a  noble  Conquerour  in  warre,  a  graue  Counsaylour 
in  peace,  after  he  had  subdued  Fraunce,  Germanic,  Britaine,  Spaine, 
Italy,  Thesalay,  Aegipt,  yea  entered  with  no  lesse  puissaunce  then 
good  fortune  into  Armenia,  into  Pontus,  into  Africa,  yeelded  in  his 
chiefest  victories  to  loue  Psellus,  as  a  thing  fit  for  Ccesar,  who  25 
conquered  all  thinges  sauing  him-selfe,  and  a  deeper  wound  did 
the  small  Arrowe  of  Cupid  make,  then  all  the  speares  of  his 
enimies. 

Hannibal  not  lesse  valiaunt  in  armes,  nor  more  fortunate  in  loue, 
hauing  spoyled  Ticinum,  Trebia,  Trasmena  and  Cannas,  submitted  30 
him-selfe  in  Apulia  to  ye  loue  of  a  woman,  whose  hate  was  a  terrour 
to  all  men,  and  .became  so  bewitched,  that  neyther  the  feare  of 
death,  nor  the  desire  of  glorye  coulde  remoue  him  from  the  lappe 
of  his  louer. 

I  omitte  Hercules,  who  was  constrained  to  vse  a  distaffe  for  the  35 
desire  of  his  loue.     Leander,  who  ventured  to  crosse  the  Seaes  for 
Hero.     Iphis  that  hanged  him-selfe,  Pyramus  that  killed  him-selfe 


.   2  should]  would  E  rest  3  eye-sore  F  rest  8  yet  om.  E  rest  9 

it  om.  M  23  Thessalia  A  rest  27  &\\om.  E  rest  29  not]  no  E  rest 

30  Trasmena  so  all        Ganna  E\  Canna  F  rest  37  Iphis]  Hyphus  M 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  113 

and  infinite  more,  which  coulde  not  resist  the  hot  skyrmishes  of 

affection. 

And  so  farre  hath  this  humour  crept  into  the  minde,  that  Biblis 

loued  hir  Brother,  Myrra  hir  Father,  Canace  hir  nephew:  In-somuch 
5  as  ther  is  no  reason  to  be  giuen  for  so  straung  a  griefe,  nor  no 

remedie    so   vnlawefull,    but   is   to    bee    sought   for   so   monstrous 

a  desease.     My  desease  is  straung,  I  my  selfe  a  straunger,  and  my 

suite  no  lesse  straunge  then  my  name,  yet  least  I  be  tedious  in 

a  thing  that  requireth  haste,  giue  eare  to  my  tale. 
10  T  Haue  hearde  often-tymes  that  in  Loue  there  are  three  thinges  for 

J.     to  bee  vsed,  if  time  serue,  violence,  if  wealth  be  great,  golde,  if 

necessitie  compel,  sorcerie. 

But  of  these  three  but  one  can  stand  me  in  steede,  the  last,  but 

not  the  least,  whiche  is  able  to  worke  the  mindes  of  all  woemen  like 
15  wax,  when  the  other  can  scarse  wind  them  like  with.   Medicines  there 

are  that  can  bring  it  to  passe,  and  men  ther  are  that  haue,  some  by 

potions,   some   by   verses,   some   by   dreames,  all   by   deceite,  the 

ensamples  were  tedious  to  recite,  and  you  knowe  them,  the  meanes 

I  come  to  learne,  and  you  can  giue  them,  which  is  the  onely  cause 
30  of  my  comming,  and  may  be  the  occasion  of  my  pleasure,  and 

certainlye  the  waye  both  for  your  prayse  and  profit. 

Whether  it  be  an  enchaunted  leafe,  a  verse  of  Pythia,  a  figure  of 

Amphion,  a  Charecter  of  Osthanes,  an  Image  of  Venus,  or  a  braunch 

of  Sybilla,  it  skilleth  not. 
35      Let  it  be  eyther  the  seedes  of  Medea,  or  the  bloud  of  Phillis,  let  it 

come  by  Oracle  of  Apollo,  or  by  Prophecie,  of  Tyresias,  eyther  by 

the  intrayles  of  a  Goat,  or  what  els  soeuer  I  care  not,  or  by  all  these 

in  one,  to  make  sure  incantation  and  spare  not. 

If  I  winne  my  loue,  you  shall  not  loose  your  labour,  and  whether 
30  it  redound  or  no  to  my  greater  perill,  I  will  not  yet  forget  your 

paines. 

Let  this  potion  be  of  such  force,  that  she  may  doat  in  hir  desire, 

and  I  delight  in  hir  distresse. 

And  if  in  this  case  you  eyther  reueale  my  suite  or  denye  it,  you 
35  shall  soone  perceyue  that  Philautus  will  dye  as  desperatelye  in  one 

minute,  as  he  hath  liued  this  three  monethes  carefully,  and  this  your 

studie  shall  be  my  graue,  if  by  your  studye  you  ease  not  my  griefe. 

4  Myrrha  GE  rest  15  a  before  with  GE  rest  17  some  by  verses,  om. 

E  rest  18  receite  M  23  Oschanes  all  eds.         or  om.  E  rest  24 

Sibillo  E  rest          25  Media  H  rest  30  yet  om.  E  rest  33  I  om.  E  rest 

36  this1  om.  E  rest 

BOND  II  I 


ii4  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

When  he  had  thus  ended,  he  looked  so  sternly  vpon  Psellus,  that 
he  wished  him  farther  off,  yet  taking  him  by  the  hande,  and  walking 
into  his  chamber,  this  good  man  began  thus  to  aunswere  him. 


Entleman,  if  the  inward  spirite  be  aunswerable  to  the  outward 

speach,  or  the  thoughtes  of  your  heart  agreeable  to  the  words  5 
of  your  mouth,  you  shal  breede  to  your  selfe  great  discredite,  and 
to   me  no  small  disquyet.     Doe   you  thinke  Gentleman  that  the 
minde  being  created  of  God,  can  be  ruled  by  man,  or  that  anye  one 
can  moue  the  heart,  but  he  that  made  the  heart  ?     But  such  hath 
bene  the  superstition  of  olde  women,  &  such  the  folly  of  young  men,  10 
y*  there  could  be  nothing  so  vayne  but  the  one  woulde  inuent,  nor 
anye  thing  so  sencelesse  but  the  other  would  beleeue  :  which  then 
brought  youth  into  a  fooles  Paradise,  &  hath  now  cast  age  into  an 
open  mockage. 

What  the  force  of  loue  is,  I  haue  knowen,  what  the  effects  haue  15 
bene  I  haue  heard,  yet  could  I  neuer  learne  that  euer  loue  could  be 
wonne,  by  the  vertues  of  hearbes,  stones  or  words.     And  though 
many  there  haue  bene  so  wicked  to  seeke  such  meanes,  yet  was 
there  neuer  any  so  vnhappy  to  finde  them. 

Parrhasius  painting  Hopplitides,  could    neither   make    him'  that  20 
ranne  to  sweate,  nor  the  other  that  put  off  his  armour  to  breathe, 
adding  this  as  it  were  for  a  note,  No  further  then  colours  :   meaning 
that  to  giue  lyfe  was  not  in  his  Pencill,  but  in  the  Gods. 

And  the  like  may  be  said  of  vs  that  giue  our  mindes  to  know  the 
course  of  the  Starres,  the  Plannets,  the  whole  Globe  of  heauen,  25 
the  Simples,  the  Compounds,  the  bowels  of  the  Earth,  that  something 
we  may  gesse  by  the  out-ward  shape,  some-thing  by  the  natiuitie  : 
but  to  wrest  the  will  of  man,  or  to  wreath  his  heart  to  our  humours, 
it  is  not  in  the  compasse  of  Arte,  but  in  the  power  of  the  most 
highest.  3° 

But  for  bicause  there  haue  bene  manye  with-out  doubt,  that  haue 
giuen  credit  to  the  vayne  illusions  of  Witches,  or  the  fonde  inuentions 
of  idle  persons,  I  will  set  downe  such  reasons  as  I  haue  heard,  and 
you  wil  laugh  at,  so  I  hope,  I  shal  both  satisfie  your  minde  and 
make  you  a  lyttle  merry,  for  me  thinketh  there  is  nothing  that  can  35 
more  delyght,  then  to  heare  the  things  which  haue  no  weight,  to  be 
thought  to  haue  wrought  wonders. 

9  made  it  E  rest  17  vertue  F  rest  20  not  before  neither  F  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  115 

If  you  take  Pepper,  the  seede  of  a  Nettle,  and  a  pretie  quantitie 
of  Pyretum,  beaten  or  pounded  altogether,  and  put  into  Wine 
of  two  yeares  olde,  whensoeuer  you  drinke  to  Camilla,  if  she  loue 
you  not,  you  loose  your  labour.  The  cost  is  small,  but  if  your 
5  beliefe  be  constant  you  winne  the  goale,  for  this  Receipt  standeth  in 
a  strong  conceipt. 

Egges  and  Honnye,  blended  with  the  Nuts  of  a  Pine  tree,  &  laid 
to  your  left  side,  is  of  as  great  force  when  you  looke  vppon  Camilla 
to  bewitch  the  minde,  as  the  Quintessence  of  Stocke-fish,  is  to  nourish 

10  the  body. 

An  hearbe  there  is,  called  Anacamsoritis,  a  strange  name  and 
doubtlesse  of  a  straunge  nature,  for  whosoeuer  toucheth  it,  falleth 
in  loue,  with  the  person  shee  next  seeth.  It  groweth  not  in  England, 
but  heere  you  shal  haue  that  which  is  not  halfe  so  good,  that  will  do 

15  as  much  good,  and  yet  truly  no  more. 

The  Hearbe  Caristum,  moystened  with  the  bloude  of  a  Lysarde, 
and  hanged  about  your  necke,  will  cause  Camilla  (for  hir  you  loue 
best)  to  dreame  of  your  seruices,  suites,  desires,  desertes,  and  what- 
soeuer  you  would  wish  hir  to  thinke  of  you,  but  beeing  wakened  she 

ao  shall  not  remember  what  shee  dreamed  off.  And  this  Hearbe  is  to 
be  founde  in  a  Lake  neere  Bce(o)tia,  of  which  water  who  so  drinketh, 
shall  bee  caught  in  Loue,  but  neuer  finde  the  Hearbe :  And  if  hee 
drincke  not,  the  Hearbe  is  of  no  force. 

There  is  in  the  Frogges  side,  a  bone  called  Apocynon,  and  in  the 

25  heade  of  a  young  Colte,  a  bounch  named  Hippomanes,  both  so 
effectuall,  for  the  obteining  of  loue,  that  who  so  getteth  either  of 
them,  shall  winne  any  that  are  willyng,  but  so  iniuriouslye  both 
crafte  and  Nature  dealt  with  young  Gentlemen  that  seeke  to  gaine 
good  will  by  these  meanes,  that  the  one  is  lycked  off  before  it  can 

3°  be  gotten,  the  other  breaketh  as  soone  as  it  is  touched.  And  yet 
vnlesse  Hippomanes  be  lycked,  it  can-not  worke,  and  except  Apocynon 
be  sound  it  is  nothing  worth. 

I  omit  the  Thistle  Eryngium,  the  Hearbes  Catanance  and 
Pityusa,  luba  his  Charito  blepharon,  and  Orpheus  Staphilinus,  all 

35  of  such  vertue  in  cases  of  loue,  that  if  Camilla  shoulde  but  tast  any 

I  pretie]  lyttle  A  rest  2  Pyretum  all  eds.  9  a  before  Stockfish  E  rest 

n  Anacamforitis  A  rest  1 6  Carisum  E  rest  19  awaked  E  rest  21 

Boetia  all  eds.  (but  cf.  p.  90,  /.  2)  24  Apocycon  M-G :    Apocyon  E  rest 

25  bonch  E  :  bunch  F  rest  27  hath  before  both  E  rest  31  Apocycon 

M-GE-.  Apocyon  H rest  32  sound]  found  E  rest  33  Catanenci  all  eds. 

34  PyteumayJ/-<7:  Pytuma  E  rest      blaepheron  M-G:  blephaeton  .£ :  blsepheton 
F  rest  Staphelinus  H  rest 

I  2 


n6  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

one  of  them  in  hir  mouthe,  shee  woulde  neuer  lette  it  goe  downe  hir 
throate,  leaste  shee  shoulde  bee  poysoned,  for  well  you  knowe 
Gentleman,  that  Loue  is  a  Poyson,  and  therefore  by  Poyson  it  must 
be  mayntayned. 

But  I  will  not  forgette  as  it  were  the  Methridate  of  the  Magitians,  5 
the  Beast  Hiena,  of  whom  there  is  no  parte  so  small,  or  so  vyle, 
but  it  serueth  for  their  purpose  :  Insomuch  that  they  accompt  Hyena 
their  God  that  can  doe  al,  and  their  Diuel  that  will  doe  all. 

If  you  take  seauen  hayres  of  Hyenas  lyppes,  and  carrye  them  sixe 
dayes  in  your  teeth,  or  a  peece  of  hir  skinne  nexte  your  bare  hearte,  10 
or  hir  bellye  girded  to  your  left  side,  if  Camilla  suffer  you  not  to 
obtaine  your  purpose,  certeinely  she  can-not  chuse,  but  thanke  you 
for  your  paines. 

And  if  you  want  medicines  to  winne  women,  I  haue  yet  more, 
the  lungs  of  a  Vultur,  the  ashes  of  Stellio,  the  left  stone  of  a  Cocke,  15 
the  tongue  of  a  Goose,  the   brayne  of  a  Cat,   the   last  haire  of 
a  Wolues  taile.   Thinges  easie  to  be  hadde,  and  commonlye  practised, 
so  that  I  would  not  haue  thee  stande  in  doubte  of  thy  loue,  when 
either  a  young  Swallow  famished,  or  the  shrowding  sheete  of  a  deere 
friend,  or  a  waxen  Taper  that  burnt  at  his  feete,  or  the  enchaunted  20 
Needle  that  Medea  hid  in  lasons  sleeue,  are  able  not  onely  to  make 
them  desire  loue,  but  also  dye  for  loue. 

How  doe  you  now  feele  your  selfe  Philautus!  If  the  least  of 
these  charmes  be  not  sufficient  for  thee,  all  exorcismes  and  coniura- 
tions  in  the  world  will  not  serue  thee.  25 

You  see  Gentleman,  into  what  blynde  and  grose  errours  in  olde 
time  we  were  ledde,  thinking  euery  olde  wiues  tale  to  be  a  truth, 
and  euery  merry  word,  a  very  witchcraft.  When  the  Aegyptians  fell 
from  their  God  to  their  Priests  of  Memphis,  and  the  Grecians,  from 
their  Morall  questions,  to  their  disputations  of  Pirrhus,  and  the  30 
Romaines  from  Religion,  to  polycie  :  then  began  all  superstition  to 
breede,  and  all  impietie  to  blome,  and  to  be  so  great,  they  haue 
both  growen,  that  the  one  being  then  an  Infant,  is  nowe  an  Elephant, 
and  the  other  beeing  then  a  Twigge,  is  now  a  Tree. 

They  inuented  as  many  Enchauntments  for  loue,  as  they  did  for  35 
the  Tooth-ach,  but  he  that  hath  tryed  both  will  say,  that  the  best 
charme  for  a  Toothe,  is  to  pull  it  out,  and  the  best  remedie  for  Loue, 
to  weare  it  out. 

ii  your]  hir  MA  29  to  the  Priest  Memphis  E  rest  32  bloome  GE  rest 
haue]  are  E  rest  37  for  a  tooth-ache  is  to  pull  out  the  tooth  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  117 

If  incantations,  or  potions,  or  amorous  sayings  could  haue  pre- 
uailed,  Circes  would  neuer  haue  lost  ffysses,  nor  Phadra  Hippolitus, 
nor  Phillis  Demophoon. 

If  Coniurations,  Characters,  Circles,  Figures,  Fendes,  or  Furies 
5  might   haue  wrought  anye  thing  in  loue,  Medea  woulde  not  haue 
suffered  lason  to  alter  his  minde. 

If  the  sirropes  of  Macaonias,  or  the  Uerses  of  Aeus,  or  the  Satyren 
of  Dipsas  were  of  force  to  moue  the  minde,  they  all  three  would  not 
haue  bene  martired  with  the  torments  of  loue. 

10  No  no  Philautus  thou  maist  well  poyson  Camilla  with  such 
drugges,  but  neuer  perswade  hir :  For  I  confesse  that  such  hearbes 
may  alter  the  bodye  from  strength  to  weakenesse,  but  to  thinke  that 
they  can  moue  the  minde  from  vertue  to  vice,  from  chastitie  to  lust, 
I  am  not  so  simple  to  beleeue,  neither  would  I  haue  thee  so  sinfull 
15  as  to  doubt  it. 

F  Vdlia  ministring  an  amorous  potion  vnto  hir  husband  Lucretius^ 
•^     procured  his  death,  whose  life  she  onely  desired. 

Aristotle  noteth  one  that  beeing  inflamed  with  the  beautie  of  a  faire 
Ladye,  thought  by  medicine  to  procure  his  blisse,  and  wrought  in  the 

ao  ende  hir  bane  :  So  was  Caligula  slaine  of  C<zsonia>  and  Lucius 
Lucullus  of  Calistine. 

Perswade  thy  selfe  Philautus  that  to  vse  hearbes  to  winne  loue 
will  weaken  the  body,  and  to  think  that  hearbes  can  further,  doth 
hurt  the  soule :  for  as  great  force  haue  they  in  such  cases,  as  noble 

25  men  thought  them  to  haue  in  the  olde  time.  Achimenis  the  hearbe  was 
of  such  force,  that  it  was  thought  if  it  wer  thrown  into  the  battaile, 
it  would  make  all  the  soldiers  tremble  :  but  where  was  it  when  the 
Cimbri  and  Teutoni  were  exiled  by  warre,  wher  grewe  Achimenis^ 
one  of  whose  leaues  would  haue  saued  a  thousand  Hues  ? 

30  The  Kinges  of  Persia  gaue  their  souldiers  the  plant  Latace,  which 
who  so  hadde,  shoulde  haue  plentye  of  meate  and  money,  and  men 
and  al  things :  but  why  did  the  soldiers  of  Casar  endure  such 
famine  in  Pharsalia^  if  one  hearbe  might  haue  eased  so  many  heartes. 

2  Circes  all  eds.,  except  Circis  H  Hippolitas  F  rest  4  If]  It  E 

Fiends  A  rest,  except  Friends  1623  5  not]  neuer  E  rest  7  Micaonias 

BE-H:    Micanios  1617  rest         Aeus]  Aeneas  A  rest        Satyren  so  all  8 

Dipsus  1623  ii  drugges]  dregges  E  rest  15  doubt]  doe  A  rest  16 

Lvcilla  a// £*&.  18  beautie]  loue  E  rest  20  hir]  his  E  rest  23  the] 

thy  E  rest  25  Achimenius  A  rest  28  Humbri  and  Tentoni  all  eds. 

Achiminis  M-B :  Achimenius  GE  rest        then,  after  Achimenius  E  rest 


u8        EUPHUES  AND  HIS  ENGLAND 

Where  is  Balis  that  luba  so  commendeth,  the  which  coulde  call 
the  dead  to  lyfe,  and  yet  hee  himselfe  dyed  ? 

Democritus  made  a  confection,  that  who-soeuer  dranke  it  should 
haue  a  faire,  a  fortunate,  and  a  good  childe.  Why  did  not  the  Persian 
Kinges  swill  this  Nectar,  hauing  such  deformed  and  vnhappy  issue  ?  5 

Cato  was  of  that  minde,  that  three  enchaunted  wordes  coulde  heale 
the  eye-sight :  and  Varro,  that  a  verse  of  Sybilla  could  ease  the 
goute,  yet  the  one  was  fayne  to  vse  running  water,  which  was  but  a 
colde  medicine,  the  other  patience,  which  was  but  a  drye  playster. 

I  would  not  haue  thee  thinke  Philautus  that  loue  is  to  bee  obteined  10 
by  such  meanes,  but  onely  by  faith,  vertue,  and  constancie. 

Philip  King  of  Macedon  casting  his  eye  vppon  a  fayre  Uirgin 
became  enamoured,  which  Olympias  his  wife  perceiuing,  thought 
him  to  bee  enchaunted,  and  caused  one  of  hir  seruauntes  to  bring 
the  Mayden  vnto  hir,  whome  shee  thought  to  thrust  both  to  exile  15 
and  shame  :  but  vieweing  hir  fayre  face  with-out  blemyshe,  hir  chaste 
eyes  with-out  glauncinge,  hir  modest  countenaunce,  hir  sober  and 
woemanlye  behauiour,  finding  also  hir  vertues  to  be  no  lesse  then 
hir  beautie,  shee  sayde,  in  thy  selfe  there  are  charmes,  meaning  that 
there  was  no  greater  enchauntment  in  loue,  then  temperaunce,  30 
wisdome,  beautie  &  chastitie.  Fond  therefore  is  the  opinion  of 
those  that  thinke  the  minde  to  be  tyed  to  Magick,  and  the  practise 
of  those  filthy,  that  seeke  those  meanes. 

Loue  dwelleth  in  the  minde,  in  the  will,  and  in  the  hearts,  which 
neyther  Coniurer  canne  alter  nor  Phisicke.  For  as  credible  it  is,  25 
that  Cupid  shooteth  his  Arowe  and  hytteth  the  heart,  as  that  hearbes 
haue  the  force  to  bewitch  the  heart,  onelye  this  difference  there  is, 
that  the  one  was  a  fiction  of  poetrie,  the  other  of  superstition.  The 
will  is  placed  in  the  soule,  and  who  canne  enter  there,  but  hee  that 
created  the  soule  ?  30 

No  no  Gentle-man  what-soeuer  you  haue  heard  touching  this, 
beleeue  nothing  :  for  they  in  myne  opinion  which  imagine  that  the 
mynde  is  eyther  by  incantation  or  excantation  to  bee  ruled,  are  as  far 
from  trueth,  as  the  East  from  the  West,  and  as  neere  impietie  against 
God,  as  they  are  to  shame  among  men,  and  so  contrary  is  it  to  the  35 
profession  of  a  Christian,  as  Paganisme. 

Suffer    not   your   selfe   to    bee    lead   with    that  vile    conceypte, 
practise  in  your  loue  all  kinde  of  loyaltie.     Be  not  mute,  nor  full 

19  thy]  my  all  eds.  21  beautie  om.  E  rest  24  dwellith^          hart 

E  rest  25  Coniurer  nor  Phisick  can  alter  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  119 

of  bable,  bee  sober,  but  auoyde  sollennesse,  vse  no  kinde  of  ryotte 
eyther  in  banqueting,  which  procureth  surfeites,  nor  in  attyre,  which 
hasteth  beggerye. 

If  you  thinke  well  of  your  witte,  be  alwayes  pleasaunt,  if  yll  bee 
5  often  silent :  in  the  one  thy  talke  shal  proue  thee  sharpe,  in  the  other 
thy  modestie,  wise. 

All  fyshe  are  not  caught  with  Flyes,  all  woemenne  are  not  allured 
with  personage.  Frame  letters,  ditties,  Musicke,  and  all  meanes 
that  honestie  may  allowe :  For  he  wooeth  well,  that  meaneth  no  yll, 
I0  and  hee  speedeth  sooner  that  speaketh  what  hee  should,  then  he  that 
vttereth  what  he  will.  Beleeue  me  Philautus  I  am  nowe  olde,  yet 
haue  I  in  my  head  a  loue  tooth,  and  in  my  minde  there  is  nothing 
that  more  pearceth  the  heart  of  a  beautifull  Ladye,  then  writinge, 
where  thou  mayst  so  sette  downe  thy  passions  and  hir  perfection, 
J5  as  shee  shall  haue  cause  to  thinke  well  of  thee,  and  better  of  hir 
selfe :  but  yet  so  warilye,  as  neyther  thou  seeme  to  prayse  hir  too 
much,  or  debase  thy  selfe  too  lowelye  :  for  if  thou  flatter  them 
with-out  meane  they  loath  it,  and  if  thou  make  of  thy  selfe 
aboue  reason  they  laugh  at  it,  temper  thy  wordes  so  well,  and 
20  place  euerye  sentence  so  wiselye,  as  it  maye  bee  harde  for  hir 
to  iudge,  whether  thy  loue  be  more  faythfull,  or  hir  beautie 
amiable. 

Lions  fawne  when  they  are  clawed,  Tygers  stoupe  when  they  are 
tickled,  Bucephalus,  lyeth  downe  when  he  is  curryed,  woemen  yeelde 
a5  when  they  are  courted. 

This  is  the  poyson  Philautus,  the  enchauntment,  the  potions  that 
creepeth  by  sleight  into  the  minde  of  a  woeman,  and  catcheth  hir  by 
assuraunce,  better  then  the  fonde  deuices  of  olde  dreames,  as  an 
Apple  with  an  Aue  Marie,  or  a  hasill  wand  of  a  yeare  olde  crossed 
30  with  six  Characters,  or  the  picture  of  Venus  in  Uirgin  Wax,  or  the 
Image  of  Camilla  vppon  a  Moulwarpes  skinne. 

It  is  not  once  mencioned  in  the  Englishe  Courte,  nor  so  much  as 

thought  of  in  any  ones  conscience,  that  Loue  canne  bee  procured 

by  such  meanes,  or  that  anye  canne  imagine  suche  myschiefe,  and 

35  yet  I  feare  mee  it  is  too  common  in  our  Countrey,  where-by  they 

incurre  hate  of  euerye  one,  and  loue  of  none. 

Touching  my  cunning  in  any  vile  deuices  of  Magick  it  was  neuer 
my  studie,  onely  some  delyght,  I  tooke  in  the  Mathematicks  which 

2  in1]  by  BE  rest  5  procure  E  rest  18  it  om.  A  rest  26  potion 

H  rest  29  Auie  AB  Maria  EF  old,  Crosses  .£-1623 


120  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

made  me  knowen  of  more  then  I  would,  and  of  more  then  thinke 
well  of  me,  although  I  neuer  did  hurt  any,  nor  hindred. 

But  be  thou  quiet  Philautus,  and  vse  those  meanes  that  may 
winne  thy  loue,  not  those  that  may  shorten  hir  lyfe,  and  if  I  can  any 
wayes  stande  thee  in  steade,  vse  me  as  thy  poore  friend  and  countrey-  5 
man,  harme  I  will  doe  thee  none,  good  I  cannot.  My  acquaintance 
in  Court  is  small,  and  therefore  my  dealyngs  about  the  Courte  shall 
be  fewe,  for  I  loue  to  stande  aloofe  from  loue  and  lyghtning.  Fire 
giueth  lyght  to  things  farre  off,  and  burneth  that  which  is  next  to  it. 
The  Court  shineth  to  me  that  come  not  there,  but  singeth  those  10 
that  dwell  there.  Onely  my  counsayle  vse,  that  is  in  writing,  and 
me  thou  shalt  finde  secret,  wishing  thee  alwayes  fortunate,  and  if 
thou  make  me  pertaker  of  thy  successe,  it  shall  not  tourne  to  thy 
griefe,  but  as  much  as  in  mee  lyeth,  I  will  further  thee. 

When  he  had  finished  his  discourse,  Philautus  liked  very  well  of  15 
it,  and  thus  replyed. 

W'Ell  Psellus,  thou  hast  wrought  that  in  me,  which  thou  wishest, 
for  if  the  baites  that  are  layde  for  beautie  be  so  ridicu 
lous,  I  thinke  it  of  as  great  effect  in  loue,  to  vse  a  Plaister  as  a 
Potion.  20 

I  now  vterly  dissent  from  those  that  imagine  Magicke  to  be  the 
meanes,,  and  consent  with  thee,  that  thinkest  letters  to  be,  which 
I  will  vse,  and  howe  I  speede  I  will  tell  thee,  in  the  meane  season 
pardon  me,  if  I  vse  no  longer  aunswere,  for  well  you  know,  that  he 
that  hath  the  fit  of  an  Ague  vpon  him,  hath  no  lust  to  talke  but  to  25 
tumble,  and  Loue  pinching  me  I  haue  more  desire  to  chew  vpon 
melancholy,  then  to  dispute  vpon  Magicke,  but  heereafter  I  will  make 
repaire  vnto  you,  and  what  I  now  giue  you  in  thankes,  I  will  then 
requite  with  amends. 

Thus  these  two  country-men  parted  with  certeine  Italian  embrac-  3° 
ings  and  termes  of  courtesie,  more  then  common.     Philautus  we  shal 
finde  in  his  lodging,  Psellus  we  will  leaue  in  his  studie,  the  one 
musing  of  his  loue,  the  other  of  his  learning. 

T  T  Ere  Gentlewomen  you  may  see,  how  iustly  men  seeke  to  entrap 

you,  when  scornefuly  you  goe  about  to  reiect  them,  thinking  35 
it  not  vnlawfull  to  vse  Arte,  when  they  perciue  you  obstinate,  their 

a  neuer  hurt  or  hindered  any  E  rest          6  will  I  E  rest  10   cingeth  H  rest 

15  his]  this  E  rest  25  list  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  121 

dealings  I  wil  not  allow,  neither  can  I  excuse  yours,  and  yet  what 
should  be  the  cause  of  both,  I  can  gesse. 

When  Phydias  first  paynted,  they  vsed  no  colours,  but  blacke, 
white,  redde,  and  yeolow  :  Zeuxis  added  greene,  and  euery  one 
5  inuented  a  new  shadowing.  At  the  last  it  came  to  this  passe,  that 
he  in  painting  deserued  most  prayse,  that  could  sette  downe  most 
coulours :  wherby  ther  was  more  contention  kindeled  about  the 
colour,  then  the  counterfaite,  &  greater  emulation  for  varietie  in 
shew,  then  workmanship  in  substaunce. 

10  In  the  lyke  manner  hath  it  fallen  out  in  Loue,  when  Adam  woed 
there  was  no  pollycie,  but  playne  dealyng,  no  colours  but  blacke 
and  white.  Affection  was  measured  by  faith,  not  by  fancie  :  he  was 
not  curious,  nor  Eue  cruell :  he  was  not  enamoured  of  hir  beautie, 
nor  she  allured  with  his  personage :  and  yet  then  was  she  the  fairest 

15  woman  in  the  worlde,  and  he  the  properest  man.  Since  that  time 
euery  Louer  hath  put  too  a  lynke,  and  made  of  a  Ring,  a  Chaine, 
and  an  odde  Corner,  and  framed  of  a  playne  Alley,  a  crooked  knot, 
and  of  Venus  Temple,  Dedalus  Laborinth.  One  curleth  his  hayre, 
thinking  loue  to  be  moued  with  faire  lockes,  an  other  layeth  all  his 

20  lyuing  vppon  his  backe,  iudging  that  women  are  wedded  to  brauerie, 
some  vse  discourses  of  Loue,  to  kindle  affection,  some  ditties  to 
allure  the  minde,  some  letters  to  stirre  the  appetite,  diuers  fighting 
to  proue  their  manhoode,  sundry  sighing  to  shew  their  maladyes, 
many  attempt  with  showes  to  please  their  Ladyes  eyes,  not  few  with 

25  Musicke  to  entice  the  eare  :  Insomuch  that  there  is  more  strife  now, 
who  shal  be  the  finest  Louer,  then  who  is  the  faithfullest. 

This  causeth  you  Gentlewomen,  to  picke  out  those  that  can  court 
you,  not  those  that  loue  you,  and  hee  is  accompted  the  best  in  your 
conceipts,  that  vseth  most  colours,  not  that  sheweth  greatest 

30  courtesie. 

A  playne  tale  of  faith  you  laugh  at,  a  picked  discourse  of  fancie, 
you  meruayle  at,  condempning  the  simplicitie  of  truth,  and  preferring 
the  singularitie  of  deceipt,  where-in  you  resemble  those  fishes  that 
rather  swallow  a  faire  baite  with  a  sharpe  hooke,  then  a  foule  worme 

35  breeding  in  the  mudde. 

Heere-off  it  commeth  that  true  louers  receiuing  a  floute  for  their 
fayth,  and  a  mocke  for  their  good  meaning,  are  enforced  to  seeke 


4  Xeuxis  F  rest  5  this  om.  H  rest  8  veritie  E  rest  1 1  noa]  in 

E  rest  14  by  E  rest  18  curled  ^-1623  19  lookes  E  rest  20 

to]  in  E  rest  31  ye  AB  33  the  om.  E  rest 


122  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

such  meanes  as  might  compell  you,  which  you  knowing  impossible, 
maketh  you  the  more  disdainefull  and  them  the  more  desperate. 
This  then  is  my  counsaile,  that,  you  vse  your  louers  lyke  friends, 
and  chuse  them  by  their  faith,  not  by  the  shew,  but  by  the  sound, 
neither  by  the  waight,  but  by  the  touch,  as  you  do  golde  :  so  shall  5 
you  be  praysed,  as  much  for  vertue  as  beautie.  But  retourne  we 
againe  to  Philautus  who  thus  beganne  to  debate  with  himselfe. 

WHat  hast  thou  done  Philautus,  in  seeking  to  wounde  hir  that 
thou  desirest  to  winne  ? 

With  what  face  canst  thou  looke  on  hir,  whome  thou  soughtest  10 
to  loose?  Fye,  fye  Philautus,  thou  bringest  thy  good  name  into 
question,  and  hir  lyfe  into  hazard,  hauing  neither  care  of  thine  owne 
credite,  nor  hir  honour.  Is  this  the  loue  thou  pretendest  which  is 
worse  then  hate  ?  Diddest  not  thou  seeke  to  poyson  hir,  that  neuer 
pinched  thee?  15 

But  why  doe  I  recount  those  thinges  which  are  past,  and  I  repent, 
I  am  now  to  consider  what  I  must  doe,  not  what  I  would  haue 
done  ?  Follyes  past,  shall  be  worne  out  with  faith  to  come,  and  my 
death  shal  shew  my  desire.  Write  Philautus,  what  sayest  thou? 
write,  no,  no  thy  rude  stile  wil  bewray  thy  meane  estate,  and  thy  20 
rash  attempt,  will  purchase  thine  ouerthrow.  Venus  delyghteth  to 
heare  none  but  Mercury,  Pallas  wil  be  stolne  of  none  but  Vlysses, 
it  must  bee  a  smoothe  tongue,  and  a  sweete  tale  that  can  enchaunt 
Vesta. 

Besides  that  I  dare  not  trust  a  messenger  to  carye  it,  nor  hir  to  35 
reade  it,  least  in  shewing  my  letter  shee  disclose  my  loue,  &  then 
shall  I  be  pointed  at  of  those  that  hate  me,  and  pitied  of  those  that 
lyke  me,  of  hir  scorned,  of  all  talked  off.  No  Philautus,  be  not  thou 
the  bye  word  of  the  common  people,  rather  suffer  death  by  silence, 
then  derision  by  writing.  30 

I,  but  it  is  better  to  reueale  thy  loue,  then  conceale  it,  thou 
knowest  not  what  bitter  poyson  lyeth  in  sweet  words,  remember 
Psellus,  who  by  experience  hath  tryed,  that  in  loue  one  letter  is  of 
more  force,  then  a  thousand  lookes.  If  they  lyke  writings  they  read 
them  often,  if  dislyke  them  runne  them  ouer  once,  and  this  is  35 
certeine  that  she  that  readeth  suche  toyes,  will  also  aunswere  them. 

10  whome  om.  E  rest  14  Doost  not  thou  E-H ' :    Dost  now  thou  1617  : 

Doest  thou  now  1623  rest  20  thy  meane]  thine  E  rest  21  thy 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  123 

Onely  this  be  secret  in  conueyaunce,  which  is  the  thing  they  chieflyest 
desire.  Then  write  Philautus  write,  he  that  feareth  euery  bush, 
must  neuer  goe  a  birding,  he  that  casteth  all  doubts,  shal  neuer  be 
resolued  in  any  thing.  And  this  assure  thy  selfe  that  be  thy  letter 

5  neuer  so  rude  and  barbarous,  shee  will  reade  it,  and  be  it  neuer 
so  louing  she  will  not  shewe  it,  which  were  a  thing  contrary  to  hir 
honor,  and  the  next  way  to  call  hir  honestie  into  question.  For 
thou  hast  heard,  yea  and  thy  selfe  knowest,  that  Ladyes  that  vaunt 
of  their  Louers,  or  shewe  their  letters,  are  accompted  in  Italy 

10  counterfait,  and  in  England  they  are  not  thought  currant. 

Thus  Philautus  determined,  hab,  nab,  to  sende  his  letters, 
flattering  him-selfe  with  the  successe  which  he  to  him-selfe  faigned  : 
and  after  long  musing,  he  thus  beganne  to  frame  the  minister  of 
his  loue. 

,5  f   To  the  fay  rest,   Camilla. 

HArd  is  the  choyce  fayre  Ladye,  when  one  is  compelled  eyther 
by  silence  to  dye  with  griefe,  or  by  writing  to  Hue  with 
shame  :  But  so  sweete  is  the  desire  of  lyfe,  and  so  sharpe  are  the 
passions  of  loue,  that  I  am  enforced  to  preferre  an  vnseemely  suite, 

ao  before  an  vntimely  death.  Loth  I  haue  bin  to  speake,  and  in 
dispayre  to  speede,  the  one  proceeding  of  mine  own  cowardise,  the 
other  of  thy  crueltie.  If  thou  enquire  my  name,  I  am  the  same 
Philautus,  which  for  thy  sake  of  late  came  disguised  in  a  Maske, 
pleading  custome  for  a  priuiledge,  and  curtesie  for  a  pardon.  The 

35  same  Philautus  which  then  in  secret  tearmes  coloured  his  loue,  and 
now  with  bitter  teares  bewrayes  it.  If  thou  nothing  esteeme  the 
brynish  water  that  falleth  from  mine  eyes,  I  would  thou  couldest  see 
the  warme  bloud  that  droppeth  from  my  heart.  Oftentimes  I  haue 
beene  in  thy  copany,  where  easily  thou  mightest  haue  perceiued  my 

30  wanne  cheekes,  my  holow  eies,  my  scalding  sighes,  my  trebling 
tongue,  to  forshew  y*  then,  which  I  cofesse  now.  Then  consider 
with  thy  self  Camilla,  the  plight  I  am  in  by  desire,  and  the  perill 
I  am  like  to  fall  into  by  deniall. 

To  recount  the  sorrowes  I  sustaine,  or  the  seruice  I  haue  vowed, 

35  would  rather  breede  in  thee  an  admiration,  then  a  belief :  only  this 
I  adde  for  the  time,  which  the  ende  shall  trye  for  a  trueth,  that  if  thy 

i  chiefest  £"-1631  :  chiefly  1636  6  were]  weare  M  9  Louers,  or  shewe 
their  om.  E  rest  '  n  hab,  nab,  so  all  22  require  F  rest  25  my 

E  rest  26  bewray  E  rest 


124  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

aunswer  be  sharpe,  my  life  wil  be  short,  so  farre  loue  hath  wrought 
in  my  pyning  and  almost  consumed  bodye,  that  thou  onely  mayst 
breath  into  me  a  new  life,  or  bereaue  mee  of  the  olde. 

Thou  art  to  weigh,  not  how  long  I  haue  loued  thee,  but  how 
faythfully,  neyther  to  examine  the  worthynesse  of  my  person,  but  5 
the  extremitie  of  my  passions  :  so  preferring  my  desarts  before  the 
length  of  time,  and  my  desease,  before  the  greatnes  of  my  byrth, 
thou  wilt  eyther  yeelde  with  equitie,  or  deny  with  reason,  of  both 
the  which,  although  the  greatest  be  on  my  side,  yet  the  least  shall 
not  dislike  me  :  for  y*  I  haue  alwayes  found  in  thee  a  minde  neyther  10 
repugnaunt  to  right,  nor  void  of  reson.  If  thou  wouldst  but  permit 
me  to  talke  with  thee,  or  by  writing  suffer  me  at  large  to  discourse 
w*  thee,  I  doubt  not  but  yfc,  both  the  cause  of  my  loue  wold  be 
beleeued,  &  the  extremitie  rewarded,  both  proceeding  of  thy  beautie 
and  vertue,  the  one  able  to  allure,  the  other  ready  to  pittie.  Thou  15 
must  thinke  that  God  hath  not  bestowed  those  rare  giftes  vpon  thee 
to  kyll  those  that  are  caught,  but  to  cure  them.  Those  that  are 
stunge  with  the  Scorpion,  are  healed  with  the  Scorpion,  the  fire  that 
burneth,  taketh  away  the  heate  of  the  burn,  the  Spider  Phalangium 
that  poysoneth,  doth  w*  hir  skinne  make  a  playster  for  poyson,  and  20 
shall  thy  beautie  which  is  of  force  to  winne  all  with  loue,  be  of  the 
crueltie  to  wound  any  with  death?  No  Camilla,  I  take  no  lesse 
delight  in  thy  fayre  face,  then  pleasure  in  thy  good  conditions, 
assuring  my  selfe  that  for  affection  with-out  lust,  thou  wilt  not  render 
malyce  with-out  cause.  25 

I  commit  my  care  to  thy  consideration,  expecting  thy  Letter 
eyther  as  a  Cullise  to  preserue,  or  as  a  sworde  to  destroy,  eyther  as 
Antidotum,  or  as  Aconitum  :  If  thou  delude  mee,  thou  shalt  not  long 
triumphe  ouer  mee  lyuing,  and  small  will  thy  glory  be  when  I  am 
dead.  And  I  ende.  Thine  euer>  though  30 

he  be   neuer  thine. 
Philautus. 

r~PHis  Letter  beeing  coyned,  hee  study ed  how  hee  myght  conueie 
it,  knowing  it  to  be  no  lesse  perrilous  to  trust  those  hee  knewe 
not   in   so  weightye  a  case,  then   dyffycult  for  him-selfe  to  haue  35 

i  hath  loue  E  rest  6  extremities  GE  rest  16  not  thinke  that  God  hath 
E  rest  1 8  with  .  .  .  with]  of  ...  of  E  rest  19  Phalangium  E  rest :  MAB 
turn  the  n  22  with]  to  E  rest  take  om.  E  rest  24  thou  om,  H  rest 

wil  1617-23  26  commit]  omit  GE  rest  28  Aconitum  Erest\  Auconitum 

M-G  33  coyned]  ended  E  rest  33~4  how  it  might  be  conueyed  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  125 

opportunitie  to  delyuer  it  in  so  suspitious  a  company :  At  the  last 
taking  out  of  his  closette  a  fayre  Pomegranet,  and  pullyng  all  the 
kernelles  out  of  it,  hee  wrapped  his  Letter  in  it,  closing  the  toppe  of 
it  finely,  that  it  could  not  be  perceyued,  whether  nature  agayne 
5  hadde  knitte  it  of  purpose  to  further  him,  or  his  arte  hadde  ouercome 
natures  cunning.  This  Pomegranet  hee  tooke,  beeing  him-selfe  both 
messenger  of  his  Letter,  and  the  mayster,  and  insinuating  him-selfe 
into  the  companie  of  the  Gentlewoemen,  amonge  whom  was  also 
Camilla,  hee  was  welcommed  as  well  for  that  he  had  beene  long 

10  tyme  absent,  as  for  that  h'ee  was  at  all  tymes  pleasaunt,  much  good 
communication  there  was  touching  manye  matters,  which  heere  to 
insert  were  neyther  conuenient,  seeing  it  doth  not  concern  the 
Hystorie,  nor  expedient,  seeing  it  is  nothing  to  the  delyuerie  of 
Philautus  Letter.  But  this  it  fell  out  in  the  ende,  Camilla  whether 

*5  longing  for  so  faire  a  Pomegranet,  or  willed  to  aske  it,  yet  loth  to 
require  it,  she  sodeinlye  complayned  of  an  old  desease,  wherwith 
shee  manye  times  felt  hir  self  grieued,  which  was  an  extreame  heate 
in  ye  stomack,  which  aduatage  Philautus  marking,  would  not  let  slip, 
whe  it  was  purposely  spoken,  that  he  should  not  giue  them  the  slippe : 

20  and  therefore  as  one  gladde  to  haue  so  conuenient  a  time  to  offer 
both  his  duetie  and  his  deuotion,  he  beganne  thus. 

I  Haue  heard  Camilla,  of  Phisitions,  that  there  is  nothing  eyther 
more  comfortable,  or  more  profitable  for  the  stomack  or  enflamed 
liuer,  then  a  Poungranet,  which  if  it  be  true,  I  am  glad  that  I  came 

35  in  so  good  tyme  with  a  medicine,  seeing  you  were  in  so  ill  a  time 
supprised  with  your  maladie :  and  verily  this  will  I  saye,  that  there  is 
not  one  Kernell  but  is  able  both  to  ease  your  paine,  and  to  double 
your  pleasure,  and  with  that  he  gaue  it  hir,  desiring  that  as  she  felte 
the  working  of  the  potion,  so  shee  would  consider  of  the  Phisition. 

30  Camilla  with  a  smyling  countenaunce,  neyther  suspecting  the  craft, 
nor  the  conueyer,  answered  him  with  these  thankes. 

I  thank  you  Gentleman  as  much  for  your  counsell  as  your  curtesie, 
and  if  your  cunning  be  answerable  to  eyther  of  them,  I  will  make 
you  amendes  for  all  of  them  :  yet  I  wil  not  open  so  faire  a  fruite  as 

35  this  is,  vntill  I  feele  the  payne  that  I  so  much  feare.  As  you  please 
quoth  Philautus,  yet  if  euery  morning  you  take  one  kernell,  it  is  the 

10  at]  as  B  n  was  there  E  rest  14  thus  F  rest  19  she  should 

not  giue  him  E  rest  24  Pomgranet  A  rest  28  to   before  her 

E  rest 


126  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

way  to  preuent  your  disease,  and  me  thinketh  that  you  should  be  as 
carefull  to  worke  meanes  before  it  come,  that  you  haue  it  not,  as  to 
vse  meanes  to  expell  it  when  you  haue  it. 

I  am  content,  aunswered  Camilla,  to  trye  your  phisick,  which  as 
I  know  it  can  do  me  no  great  harme,  so  it  may  doe  me  much  good.  5 

In  truth  sayd  one  of  the  Gentlewomen  then  present,  I  perceiue  this 
Gentleman  is  not  onely  cunning  in  Phisicke,  but  also  very  carefull 
for  his  Patient. 

It  behoueth,  quoth  Philautus,  that  he  that  ministreth  to  a  Lady, 
be  as  desirous  of  hir  health,  as  his  owne  credite,  for  that  there  10 
redoundeth  more  prayse  to  the  Phisition  that  hath  a  care  to  his 
charge,  then  to  him  that  hath  only  a  show  of  his  Art.  And  I  trust 
Camilla  will  better  accept  of  the  good  will  I  haue  to  ridde  hir  of  hir 
disease,  then  the  gift,  which  must  worke  the  effect. 

Otherwise  quoth  Camilla,  I  were  verye  much  to  blame,  knowing  15 
that  in  manye  the  behauiour  of  the  man,  hath  wrought  more  then 
the  force  of  the  medicine.     For  I  would  alwayes  haue  my  Phisition, 
of  a   cheerefull   countenaunce,    pleasauntlye   conceipted,  and   well 
proportioned,  that  he  might  haue  his  sharpe  Potions  mixed  with 
sweete  counsayle,  and  his  sower  drugs  mitigated  with  merry  dis-  ao 
courses. 

And  this  is  the  cause,  that  in  olde  time,  they  paynted  the  God  of 
Phisicke,  not  lyke  Saturne  but  Aesculapius  :  of  a  good  compaction, 
fine  witte,  and  excellent  constitution. 

For  this  I  know  by  experience,  though  I  be  but  young  to  learne,  25 
and  haue  not  often  bene  sicke,  that  the  sight  of  a  pleasant  and  quicke 
witted  Phisitian,  hath  remoued  that  from  my  heart  with  talke,  that 
he  could  not  with  all  his  Triacle. 

That  might  well  be,  aunswered  Philautus,  for  the  man  that  wrought 
the  cure,  did  perchaunce  cause  the  disease,  and  so  secret  might  the  30 
griefe  be,  that  none  could  heale  you,  but  he  that  hurte  you,  neither 
was  your  heart  to  be  eased  by  any  in-ward  potion,  but  by  some 
outward  perswasion :  and  then  it  is  no  meruaile  if  the  ministring  of 
a  few  wordes,  were  more  auayleable  then  Methridate. 

Wei  Gentleman   said  Camilla,  I  wil  neither  dispute  in  Phisick,  35 
wherin  I  haue  no  skill,  neither  aunswere  you,  to  your  last  surmise, 
which  you  seeme  to  leuell  at,  but  thanking  you  once  againe  both  for 
your  gift  &  good  will,  we  wil  vse  other  communication,  not  forgetting 

i  thinks  E  rest  28  Treacle  E  rest  32  by1]  with  E  rest  34 

Mithiidate  H  rest  36  least  E        surmises  GE  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  127 

to  aske  for  your  friend  Euphues,  who  hath  not  long  time  bene, 
where  he  might  haue  bene  welcommed  at  all  times,  &  that  he  came 
not  with  you  at  this  time,  we  both  meruayle,  and  would  faine  know. 
This  question  so  earnestlye  asked  of  Camilla,  and  so  hardlye  to 
5  bee  aunswered  of  Philautus,  nipped  him  in  the  head,  notwithstanding 
least  he  shold  seeme  by  long  silence  to  incurre  some  suspition,  he 
thought  a  bad  excuse  better  then  none  at  all,  saying  that  Euphues 
now  a  dayes  became  so  studious  (or  as  he  tearmed  it,  supersticious) 
that  he  could  not  himselfe  so  much,  as  haue  his  company. 
10      Belike  quoth  Camilla,  he  hath  either  espyed  some  new  faults  in 
the  women  of  England,  where-by  he  seeketh  to  absent  himselfe,  or 
some  olde  haunt  that  will  cause  him  to  spoyle  himselfe. 

Not  so  sayd  Philautus,  and  yet  that  it  was  sayd  so  I  will  tell  him. 
Thus  after  much  conference,  many  questions,  and  long  time  spent, 
15  Philautus  tooke  his  leaue,  and  beeing  in  his  chamber,  we  will  ther 
leaue  him  with  such  cogitations,  as  they  commonly  haue,  that  either 
attende  the  sentence  of  lyfe  or  death  at  the  barre,  or  the  aunswere 
of  hope  or  dispaire  of  their  loues,  which  none  can  set  downe  but  he 
that  hath  them,  for  that  they  are  not  to  be  vttered  by  the  coniecture 
20  of  one  that  would  imagine  what  they  should  be,  but  by  him  that 
knoweth  what  they  are. 

Camilla  the  next  morning  opened  the  Pomegranet,  and  saw  the 
letter,  which  reading,  pondering  and  perusing,  she  fell  into  a 
thousande  contrarieties,  whether  it  were  best  to  aunswere  it  or  not, 
25  at  the  last,  inflamed  with  a  kinde  of  cholar,  for  that  she  knew  not 
what  belonged  to  the  perplexities  of  a  louer,  she  requited  his  frawd 
and  loue,  with  anger  and  hate,  in  these  termes,  or  the  lyke. 

To  Philautus, 

I   Did  long  time  debate  with  my  selfe  Philautus,  whether  it  might 
stand  with  mine  honour  to  send  thee  an  aunswere,  for  comparing 
my  place  with  thy  person,  me  thought  thy  boldnes  more,  then  either 
good  maners  in  thee  wold  permit,  or  I  with  modestie  could  suffer. 
Yet  at  ye  last,  casting  with  my  selfe,  y*  the  heat  of  thy  loue  might 
clean  be  razed  with  ye  coldnes  of  my  letter,  I  thought  it  good  to 
35  commit  an  inconuenience,  y*  I  might  preuent  a  mischiefe,  chusing 
rather  to  cut  thee  off  short  by  rigour,  then  to  giue  thee  any  iot  of 
hope  by  silence.     Greene  sores  are  to  be  dressed  roughly,  least  they 

8  was  now  a  dales  become  E  rest  10  hath  om.  E  rest  12  spoyle] 

soile  £  rest  13  sayd J]  aunswered  E  rest  31  thy1]  my  E  rest  34 

raced  E  rest         thy  E  rest  35  I]  it  E  rest  37  by]  of  H  rest 


128  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

fester,  tetars  to  be  drawen  in  the  beginning  least  they  spread,  ring 
wormes  to  be  anoynted  when  they  first  appeare,  least  they  compasse 
ye  whole  body,  &  the  assalts  of  loue  to  be  beaten  back  at  ye  first 
siege,  least  they  vndermine  at  ye  second.  Fire  is  to  be  quenched  in 
ye  spark,  weedes  are  to  be  rooted  in  ye  bud,  follyes  in  ye  blossome.  5 
Thinking  this  morning  to  trye  thy  Phisick,  I  perceiued  thy  frawd, 
insomuch  as  the  kernel  y*  shoulde  haue  cooled  my  stomack  with 
moistnes,  hath  kindled  it  with  cholar,  making  a  flaming  fire,  wher  it 
found  but  hot  imbers,  conuerting  like  the  Spider  a  sweet  floure  into 
a  bitter  poyson.  I  am  Philautus  no  Italian  Lady,  who  commonly  10 
are  woed  with  leasings,  &  won  with  lust,  entangled  with  deceipt, 
&  enioyed  with  delight,  caught  with  sinne,  and  cast  off  with  shame. 

For  mine  owne  part,  I  am  too  young  to  knowe  the  passions  of 
a  louer,  and  too  wise  to  beleeue  them,  and  so  farre  from  trusting  any, 
that  I  suspect  all :  not  that  ther  is  in  euery  one,  a  practise  to  deceiue,  15 
but  that  ther  wanteth  in  me  a  capacitie  to  conceiue. 

Seeke  not  then  Philautus  to  make  the  tender  twig  crooked  by 
Arte,  which  might  haue  growen  streight  by  Nature.  Corne  is  not  to 
be  gathered  in  the  budde,  but  in  the  eare,  nor  fruite  to  be  pulled 
from  the  tree  when  it  is  greene,  but  when  it  is  mellow,  nor  Grapes  ao 
to  bee  cut  for  the  presse,  when  they  first  rise,  but  when  they  are  full 
ripe :  nor  young  Ladies  to  be  sued  vnto,  that  are  fitter  for  a  rodde 
then  a  husbande,  and  meeter  to  beare  blowes  then  children. 

You  must  not  think  of  vs  as  of  those  in  your  own  countrey,  that 
no  sooner  are  out  of  the  cradell,  but  they  are  sent  to  the  court,  and  35 
woed  some-times  before  they  are  weaned,  which  bringeth  both  the 
Nation  and  their  names,  not  in  question  onely  of  dishonestie,  but 
into  obliquie. 

This  I  would  haue  thee  to  take  for  a  flat  aunswere,  that  I  neither 
meane  to  loue  thee,  nor  heereafter  if  thou  follow  thy  sute  to  heare  30 
thee.  Thy  first  practise  in  the  Masque  I  did  not  allow,  the  seconde 
by  thy  writing  I  mislyke,  if  thou  attempt  the  third  meanes,  thou 
wilt  enforce  me  to  vtter  that,  which  modestie  now  maketh  me  to 
conceale. 

If  thy  good  will  be  so  great  as  thou  tellest,  seeke  to  mitigate  it  by  35 
reason  or  time,  I  thanke  thee  for  it,  but  I  can-not  requit  it,  vnlesse 
either  thou  wert  not  Philautus^  or  I  not  Camilla.     Thus  pardoning 

I  tettars  B  rest  6  thy1]  my  E  rest  7  as]  that  E  rest  9  embers 

H  rest  10  1  am  not  Philautus  an  E  rest  n  leasing  F  rest  15  a  om. 

E  rest  16  that  om.  E  rest  19  budde]  blade  E  rest  28  oblique 

AB  :  obloquie  E  rest  37  either  .  .  .  wert]  thou  either  were  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  129 

thy  boldnes  vppon  condition,  and  resting  thy  friend  if  thou  rest  thy 

sute,  I  ende. 

Neither  thine,  nor  hir  owne, 
Camilla. 

5  'T""*  His  letter  Camilla  stitched  into  an  Italian  Petrark  which  she 

i       had,  determining  at  the  next  coming  of  Philautus,  to  deliuer 

it,  vnder  the  pretence  of  asking  some  question,  or  the  vnderstanding 

of  some  worde.     Philautus  attending  hourelye  ye  suecesse  of  his 

loue,   made  his   repaire  according   to   his   accustomable  vse,  and 

10  rinding  the  Gentlewomen  sitting  in  an  herbor,  saluted  them  cur- 
teously,  not  forgetting  to  be.  inquisitiue  how  Camilla  was  eased  by 
his  Poungranet,  which  oftentimes  asking  of  hir,  she  aunswered  him 
thus. 

In  faith  Philautus,  it  had  a  faire  coat,  but  a  rotten  kernell,  which 

15  so  much  offended  my  weake  stomacke,  that  the  very  sight  caused  me 
to  loth  it,  and  the  sent  to  throw  it  into  the  fire. 

I  am  sory  quoth  Philautus  (who  spake  no  lesse  then  trueth)  that 
the  medicine  could  not  worke  that,  which  my  mind  wished,  &  with 
that  stoode  as  one  in  a  traunce,  which  Camilla  perceiuing,  thought 

20  best  to  rub  no  more  on  that  gall,  least  the  standers  by  should  espy 
where  Philautus  shooe  wronge  him. 

Well  said  Camilla  let  it  goe,  I  must  impute  it  to  my  ill  fortune, 
that  where  I  looked  for  a  restoritie,  I  found  a  consumption  :  and 
with  that  she  drew  out  hir  petrarke,  requesting  him  to  conster  hir 

25  a  lesson,  hoping  his  learning  would  be  better  for  a  scholemaister, 
then  his  lucke  was  for  a  Phisition.  Thus  walking  in  the  ally,  she 
listned  to  his  construction,  who  turning  the  booke,  found  where  the 
letter  was  enclosed,  and  dissembling  that  he  suspected,  he  saide  he 
would  keepe  hir  Petrark  vntill  the  morning,  do  you  quoth  Camilla. 

30  With  y*  the  Gentlewomen  clustred  about  them  both,  eyther  to  hear 
how  cunningly  Philautus  could  conster,  or  how  readily  Camilla 
could  conceiue.  It  fell  out  that  they  turned  to  such  a  place,  as 
turned  them  all  to  a  blanke,  where  it  was  reasoned,  whether  loue 
came  at  the  sodeine  viewe  of  beautie,  or  by  long  experience  of  vertue, 

35  a  long  disputation  was  like  to  ensue,  had  not  Camilla  cut  it  off 
before  they  could  ioyne  issue^  as  one  not  willing  in  ye  company  of 
Philautus  eyther  to  talke  of  loue,"  or  thinke  of  loue,,  least  eyther  hee 


5  in  .Em/        Petrark  F  rest  :  petrack  MA  :    Petracke  BGE  10  Arbour 

Brest  20  that]  the  E  rest  23  a1  om.  H  rest  24  petracke  AB  '•: 

Petracke  DE  26  was  om.  E  rest  29  Petrark  F  rest  \   petracke  M-E 

31  cunning  E  rest 


BOND  it 


1 3o  EUPHUES   AND  HIS   ENGLAND 

should  suspect  she  had  beene  wooed,  or  might  be  won,  which  was 
not  done  so  closelye,  but  it  was  perceiued  of  Philautus^  though  dis 
sembled.  Thus  after  many  words,  they  went  to  their  dinner,  where 
I  omit  their  table  talke,  least  I  loose  mine. 

After  their  repast,  Surius  came  in  with  a  great  train,  which  5 
lightened  Camillas  hart,  &  was  a  dagger  to  Philautus  breast,  who 
taried  no  longer  then  he  had  leysure  to  take  his  leaue,  eyther 
desirous  to  read  his  Ladyes  aunswer,  or  not  willing  to  enioy  Surius 
his  companie,  whome  also  I  will  now  forsake,  and  followe  Philautus^ 
to  heare  how  his  minde  is  quieted  with  Camillas  curtesie.  i° 

Philautus  no  sooner  entred  his  chamber,  but  he  read  hir  letter, 
wich  wrought  such  skirmishes  in  his  minde,  that  he  had  almost  forgot 
reason,  falling  into  the  olde  vaine  of  his  rage,  in  this  manner. 

Ah  cruell  Camilla  and  accursed  Philautus,  I  see  now  that  it  fareth 
with  thee,  as  it  doth  with  the  Harpey,  which  hauing  made  one  J5 
astonied  with  hir  fayre  sight,  turneth  him  into  a  stone  with  hir 
venemous  sauor,  and  with  me  as  it  doth  with  those  that  view  the 
Basiliske,  whose  eyes  procure  delight  to  the  looker  at  the  first  glymse, 
and  death  at  the  second  glaunce. 

Is  this  the  curtesie  of  England  towardes  straungers,  to  entreat  20 
them  so  dispightfullye  ?     Is  my  good  will  not  onely  reiected  with-out 
cause,  but  also  disdained  without  coulour  ?     I  but  Philautus  prayse 
at  the  parting,   if  she  had  not  liked  thee,   she  would  neuer  haue 
aunswered  thee.     Knowest  thou  not  that  wher  they  loue  much,  they 
dissemble  most,  that  as  fayre  weather  commeth  after  a  foule  storme,  25 
so  sweete  tearmes  succeede  sowre  taunts  ? 

Assaye  once  againe  Philautus  by  Letters  to  winne  hir  loue,  and 
followe  not  the  vnkinde  hounde,  who  leaueth  the  sent  bycause  hee 
is  rated,  or  the  bastarde  Spanyell,  which  beeing  once  rebuked,  neuer 
retriueth  his  game.     Let  Atlanta  runne  neuer  so  swiftelye,  shee  will  30 
looke  backe  vpon  Hyppomanes,  let  Medea  bee  as  cruell  as  a  fende 
to  all  Gentle-men,  shee  will  at  the  last  respect  lason.     A  denyall  at 
the  first  is  accompted   a   graunt,    a   gentle  aunswere   a  mockerie. 
Ladyes  vse  their  Louers  as  the  Storke   doth  hir  young  ones,  who 
pecketh  them  till  they  bleed  with  hir  bill,  and  then  healeth  them  35 
with   hir   tongue.       Cupid  him-self  must   spend   one  arrowe,    and 

15  Harpey  E  rest :  Hare  Sea  MABD  18  Basiliske  E  rest :  Basil  ike  MAB 
glymse]  glance  E  rest  19  glaunce]  sight  E  rest  23  the]  thy  B  rest 

26  after  before  sower  H  rest  31  Hyppomanes  so  all  fiend  DE  rest 

35  pickethZ;^:^  1636:  pricketh  ^"-1631 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  131 

thinkest  thou  to  speede  with  one  Letter  ?  No  no  Philautus,  he  that 
looketh  to  haue  cleere  water  must  digge  deepe,  he  that  longeth  for 
sweete  Musicke,  must  set  his  stringes  at  the  hyghest,  hee  that  seeketh 
to  win  his  loue  must  stretch  his  labor,  and  hasard  his  lyfe.  Venus 

5  blisseth  Lions  in  the  fold,  and  Lambes  in  the  chamber,  Eagles  at 
the  assaulte,  and  Foxes  in  counsayle,  so  that  thou  must  be  hardy  in 
the  pursuit,  and  meeke  in  victory,  venterous  in  obtaining,  and  wise 
in  concealing,  so  that  thou  win  that  with  prayse,  which  otherwise 
thou  wilt  loose  with  peeuishnesse.  Faint  hart  Philautus  neither 

10  winneth  Castell  nor  Lady  :  therfore  endure  all  thinges  that  shall 
happen  with  patience,  and  pursue  with  diligence,  thy  fortune  is  to  be 
tryed,  not  by  the  accedents  but  by  the  end. 

Thus  Gentlewoemen,  Philautus  resembleth  the  Uiper,  who  beeing 
stricken  with  a  reede  lyeth  as  he  were  dead,  but  stricken  the  second 

15  tyme,  recouereth  his  stregth  :  hauing  his  answer  at  the  first  in  ye 
masque,  he  was  almost  amased,  and  nowe  againe  denied,  he  is 
animated,  presuming  thus  much  vpon  ye  good  dispositio  and  kind- 
nesse  of  woemen,  that  the  higher  they  sit,  the  lower  they  looke,  and 
the  more  they  seeme  at  the  first  to  loth,  the  more  they  loue  at  the 

20  last.  Whose  iudgement  as  I  am  not  altogether  to  allow,  so  can  I  not 
in  some  respect  mislike.  For  in  this  they  resemble  the  Crocodile, 
who  when  one  approcheth  neere  vnto  him,  gathereth  vp  him-self 
into  the  roundnesse  of  a  ball,  but  running  from  him,  stretcheth 
him-self  into  the  length  of  a  tree.  The  willing  resistance  of  women 

25  was  ye  cause  y*  made  Arellius  (whose  arte  was  only  to  draw  women) 
to  paynt  Venus  Cnydia  catching  at  the  ball  with  hir  hand,  which  she 
seemed  to  spurn  at  with  hir  foote.  And  in  this  poynt  they  are  not 
vnlike  vnto  the  Mirre  Tree,  which  being  hewed,  gathereth  in  his 
sappe,  but  not  moued,  poureth  it  out  like  sirrop.  Woemen  are 

30  neuer  more  coye  then  when  they  are  beloued,  yet  in  their  mindes 
neuer  lesse  constant,  seeming  to  tye  themselus  to  the  mast  of  the 
shippe  with  Vlysses,  when  they  are  wooed,  with  a  strong  Cable  : 
which  being  well  discerned  is  a  twine  threed :  throwing  a  stone  at 
the  head  of  him,  vnto  whome  they  immediately  cast  out  an  aple, 

35  of  which  their  gentle  nature  Philautus  being  perswaded,  followed 
his  suit  againe  in  this  manner. 

5  blesseth  B  rest          6  in1]  in  in  M        7  thy  E  rest          8  that1]  shalt  E  rest 
ii  happen]  sharpen  B  12  accidents  GE  rest  14  he]  it  E  rest  15 

ye]  &  GE  rest          23  the]  a  E  25  Arelius  M-E :  Aurelius  H  rest  27 

feete  H  rest  28  Mirre]  Mirt  M  hewen  E  rest  34  immediatly 

they  E  rest  foorth  E  rest 

K  2 


13*  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Philautus  to  the  fair e,  Camilla. 

I  Cannot  tell  (Camilla)  whether  thy  ingratitude  be  greater,  or  my 
misfortune,  for  perusing  the  few  lynes  thou  gauest  me,  I  found 
as  small  hope  of  my  loue  as  of  thy  courtesie.  But  so  extreame  are 
the  passions  of  loue,*  that  the  more  thou  seekest  to  quench  them  by  5 
disdayne,  the  greater  flame  thou  encreasest  by  desire.  Not  vnlyke 
vnto  lupiters  Well,  which  extinguisheth  a  firie  brande,  and  kindleth 
a  wet  sticke.  And  no  lesse  force,  hath  thy  beautie  ouer  me,  then 
the  fire  hath  ouer  Naphtha  which  leapeth  into  it,  whersoeuer  it 
seeth  it.  I0 

I  am  not  he  Camilla  that  will  leaue  the  Rose,  bicause  I  pricked 
my  finger,  or  forsake  the  golde  that  lyeth  in  the  hot  fire,  for  that 
I  burnt  my  hande,  or  refuse  the  sweefce  Chesnut,  for  that  it  is 
couered  with  sharpe  huskes.  The  minde  of  a  faithfull  louer,  is 
neither  to  be  daunted  with  despite,  nor  afrighted  with  daunger.  15 
For  as  the  Load-stone,  what  winde  soeuer  blowe,  tourneth  alwayes 
to  the  North,  or  as  Aristotles  Quadratus,  which  way  soeuer  you 
tourne  it,  is  alwayes  constant :  so  the  faith  of  Philautus^  is  euermore 
applyed  to  the  loue  of  Camilla^  neither  to  be  remoued  with  any 
winde,  or  rolled  with  any  force.  But  to  thy  letter.  20 

Thou  saist  greene  wounds  are  to  be  dressed  roughly  least  they 
fester :  certeinly  thou  speakest  lyke  a  good  Chyrurgian,  but  dealest 
lyke  one  vnskilfull,  for  making  a  great  wound,  thou  puttest  in  a  small 
tent,  cutting  the  flesh  that  is  sound,  before  thou  cure  the  place  that 
is  sore  :  striking  the  veyne  with  a  knife,  which  thou  shouldest  stop  25 
with  lynt.  And  so  hast  thou  drawn  my  tettar,  (I  vse  thine  owne 
terme)  that  in  seeking  to  spoyle  it  in  my  chinne,  thou  hast  spreade  it 
ouer  my  body. 

Thou  addest  thou  art  no  Italyan  Lady,  I  answer,  would  thou 
wert,  not  that  I  would  haue  thee  wooed,  as  thou  sayst  they  are,  but  30 
that  I  might  win  thee  as  thou  now  art :  and  yet  this  I  dare  say, 
though  not  to  excuse  al,  or  to  disgrace  thee,  y*  some  there  are  in 
Italy  too  wise  to  be  caught  with  leasings,  and  too  honest  to  be 
entangled  with  lust,  and  as  wary  to  eschue  sinne,  as  they  are  willing 

i  the  om.  F  rest  5  quence  .#"1617  7  to  E  rest        firie]  fire  GE  rest 

9  Naplytia  all  eds.  n  l*~]\\.  GE  rest        pricketh  F  rest  13  burne  AB 

1 6  windes  H  rest  alway  E  rest  20  nor  rolled  by  E\    nor  rolled 

with  F  rest  my  E  rest  22  Surgion  E  rest  32  to2  om.  E  rest 

34  vnwilling  F  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  133 

to  sustaine  shame,  so  that  what-soeuer  the  most  be,  I  would  not  haue 
thee  thinke  ill  of  the  best. 

Thou  alleadgest  thy  youth  and  allowest  thy  wisedome,  the  one  not 

apt   to  know  ye  impressions   of  loue,  the  other  suspitious  not  to 

5  beleeue  them.     Truely   Camilla  I-  haue  heard,  that  young  is  the 

Goose  yfc  wil  eate  no  Gates,  and  a  very  ill  Cocke  that  will  not  crow 

before  he  be  olde,  and  no  right  Lyon,  that  will  not  feede  on  hard 

meat,  before  he  tast  sweet  milke,  and  a  tender  Uirgin  God  knowes 

it   must   be,    that   measureth   hir  affections   by   hir  age,   when   as 

10  naturally  they  are  enclyned  (which-  thou  perticularly  puttest  to  our 

countrey)  to  play  the  brides,  before  they  be  able  to  dresse  their 

heades. 

Many  similytudes  thou  bringest  in  to  excuse  youth,  thy  twig,  thy 
corne,  thy  fruit,  thy  grape,  &  I  know  not  what,  which  are  as  easelye 
15  to  be  refelled,  as  they  are  to  be  repeated. 

But  my  good  Camilla,  I  am  as  vnwillyng  to  confute  any  thing 
thou  speakest,  as  I  am  thou  shouldst  vtter  it :  insomuch  as  I  would 
sweare  the  Crow  were  white,  if  thou  shouldest  but  say  it. 

My  good  will  is  greater  than  I  can  expresse,  and  thy  courtesie 

20  lesse  then  I  deserue  :  thy  counsayle  to  expell  it  with  time  and  reason, 

of  so  lyttle  force,  that  I  haue  neither  the  will  to  vse  the  meane,  nor 

the  wit  to  conceiue  it.     But  this  I  say,  that  nothing  can  break  off 

my  loue  but  death,  nor  any  thing  hasten  my  death,  but  thy  dis- 

courtesie.     And  so  I  attend  thy  finall  sentence,  &  my  fatall  destenie. 

25  Thine  euer,  though  he 

be  neuer  thine. 
Philautus. 

THis  letter  he  thought  by  no  meanes  better  to  be  conueyed, 
then  in  the  same  booke  he  receiued  hirs,  so  omitting  no 

30  time,  least  the  yron  should  coole  before  he  could  strike,  he  presently 
went  to  Camilla,  whome  he  founde  in  gathering  of  flowers,  with 
diuers  other  Ladyes  and  Gentlewomen,  which  came  aswell  to 
recreate  themselues  for  pleasure,  as  to  visite  Camilla,  whom  they 
all  loued.  Philautus  somewhat  boldened  by  acquaintaunce, 

35  courteous  by  nature,  and  courtly  by  countenance,  saluted  them  al 
with  such  termes,  as  he  thought  meete  for  such  personages,  not 
forgetting  to  call  Camilla  his  schollar,  when  she  had  schooled  him 
being  hir  master. 

14  easie  E  rest  2 1  is  before  of  F  rest  36  such  2J  their  E  rest 


i34  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

One  of  the  Ladies  who  delighted  much  in  mirth,  seing  PhilauttiS 
behold  Camilla  so  stedfastly,  saide  vnto  him. 

/^Entleman,  what  floure  like  you  best  in  all  this  border,  heere 
^•*  be  faire  Roses,  sweete  Uiolets,  fragrant  primroses,  heere  wil 
be  lilly-floures,  Carnations,  sops  in  wine,  sweet  Johns,  and  what  may  5 
either  please  you  for  sight,  or  delight  you  with  sauour :  loth  we  are 
you  should  haue  a  Posie  of  all,  yet  willing  to  giue  you  one,  not  y* 
which  shal  looke  best,  but  such  a  one  as  you  shal  lyke  best. 
Philautus  omitting  no  opportunitie,  yfc  might  either  manifest  his 
affection  or  commend  his  wit,  aunswered  hir  thus.  10 

Lady,  of  so  many  sweet  floures  to  chuse  the  best,  it  is  harde, 
seeing  they  be  all  so  good,  if  I  shoulde  preferre  the  fairest  before 
the  sweetest  you  would  happely  imagine  that  either  I  were  stopped 
in  the  nose,  or  wanton  in  the  eyes,  if  the  sweetnesse  before  the 
beautie,  then  would  you  gesse  me  either  to  lyue  with  sauours,  or  to  15 
haue  no  iudgement  in  colours,  but  to  tell  my  minde  (vpon  correction 
be  it  spoken)  of  all  flowers,  I  loue  a  faire  woman. 

In  deede  quoth  Flauia  (for  so  was  she  named)  faire  women  are 
set  thicke,  but  they  come  vp  thinne,  and  when  they  begin  to  budde, 
they  are  gathered  as  though  they  wer  blowne,  of  such  men  as  you  20 
are  Gentleman,  who  thinke  greene  grasse  will  neuer  be  drye  Hay, 
but  when  y6  flower  of  their  youth  (being  slipped  too  young)  shall 
fade  before  they  be  olde,  then  I  dare  saye,  you  would  chaunge  your 
faire  flower  for  a  weede,  and  the  woman  you  loued  then,  for  the 
worst  violet  you  refuse  now.  25 

Lady  aunswered  Philautus,  it  is  a  signe  that  beautie  was  no 
niggard  of  hir  slippes  in  this  gardein,  and  very  enuious  to  other 
grounds,  seing  heere  are  so  many  in  one  Plot,  as  I  shall  neuer  finde 
more  in  all  Italy,  whether  the  reason  be  the  heate  which  killeth 
them,  or  the  country  that  cannot  beare  them.  As  for  plucking  30 
them  vp  soone,  in  y*  we  shew  the  desire  we  haue  to  them,  not  the 
malyce.  Where  you  coniecture,  that  men  haue  no  respect  to  things 
when  they  be  olde,  I  cannot  consent  to  your  saying  for  well  doe  they 
know  that  it  fareth  with  women  as  it  doth  with  the  Mulbery  tree, 
which  the  elder  it  is,  the  younger  it  seemeth,  and  therfore  hath  it  35 
growen  to  a  Prouerb  in  Italy,  whe  one  see-eth  a  woman  striken  in 

13  happilie  £-1623:   haply  1630-36  15  sauour  E  rest  30  pulling 

E  rest  31  to]  vnto  H  rest  33  but  before  consent  E  rest        they2]  you 

E  rest  36  one]  on  M 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  135 

age  to  looke  amiable,  he  saith  she  hath  eaten  a  Snake :  so  that 
I  must  of  force  follow  mine  olde  opinion,  that  I  loue  fresh  flowers 
well,  but  faire  women  better. 

Flauia  would  not  so  leaue  him,  but  thus  replyed  to  him. 

u  are  very  amorous  Gentleman,  otherwise  you  wold  not  take 
the  defence  of  that  thing  which  most  men  contemne,  and 
women  will  not  confesse.  For  where-as  you  goe  about  to  currey 
fauour,  you  make  a  fault,  either  in  praysing  vs  too  much,  which 
we  accompt  in  Englande  flatterye,  or  pleasing  your  selfe  in  your 

10  owne  minde,  which  wise  men  esteeme  as  folly.  For  when  you 
endeauour  to  proue  that  woemen  the  older  they  are,  the  fayrer  they 
looke,  you  thinke  them  eyther  very  credulous  to  beleeue,  or  your 
talke  verye  effectuall  to  perswade.  But  as  cunning  as  you  are  in 
your  Pater  nosier,  I  will  add  one  Article  more  to  your  Crede,  that 

15  is,  you  may  speak  in  matters  of  loue  what  you  will,  but  women  will 
beleeue  but  what  they  lyst,  and  in  extolling  their  beauties,  they  giue 
more  credit  to  their  owne  glasses,  then  mens  gloses. 

But  you  haue  not  yet  aunswered  my  request  touching  what  flower 
you  most  desire  :  for  woemen  doe  not  resemble  flowers,  neyther  in 

20  shew  nor  sauour. 

Philautus  not  shrinking  for  an  Aprill  showre,  followed  the  chace 
in  this  manner. 

Lady,  I  neither  flatter  you  nor  please  my  selfe  (although  it  pleaseth 
you  so  to  coniecture)  for  I  haue  alwayes  obserued  this,  that  to  stand 

25  too  much  in  mine  owne  conceite  would  gaine  me  little,  and  to  claw 
those  of  whome  I  sought  for  no  benefite,  woulde  profit  me  lesse  : 
yet  was  I  neuer  so  ill  brought  vp,  but  that  I  could  when  time  and 
place  should  serue,  giue  euery  one  I  lyked  their  iust  commendation, 
vnlesse  it  were  among  those  that  were  with-out  comparison  :  offending 

30  in  nothing  but  in  this,  that  beeing  too  curious  in  praising  my  Lady, 
I  was  like  to  the  Painter  Protogenes,  who  could  neuer  leaue  when 
his  worke  was  well,  which  faulte  is  to  be  excused  in  him,  bicause 
hee  would  make  it  better,  and  may  be  borne  with  in  mee,  for  that 
I  wish  it  excellent.  Touching  your  first  demaund  which  you  seeme 

35  againe  to  vrge  in  your  last  discourse,  I  say  of  al  flowers  I  loue  the 

2  colours  E  rest          n  elder  E  rest        they1]  the  M  12  credilous  E 

13  you]  yru  A  :  your  H  14  will  be  bolde  to  adde  E  rest  15  speak] 

seeke  E  rest  16  but  om.  E  rest  18  what]  that  E  rest  25  but  before 

little  A  rest  27  wha  A  28  I  lyked  om.  A  rest  31  was]  am  E  rest 

32  is]  was  E  rest  33  with  om.  E  rest.   B  reads  within  for  with  in 


136  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Rose  best,  yet  with  this  condition,  bicause  I  wil  not  eate  my  word, 
I  like  a  faire  Lady  well.  Then  quoth  Flauia  since  you  wil  needes 
ioyne  the  flower  with  the  woman,  amonge  all  vs  (&  speake  not 
partially)  call  hir  your  Rose  yfc  you  most  regarde,  and  if  she  deny 
that  name,  we  will  enioyne  hir  a  penance  for  hir  pride,  &  rewarde  5 
you  with  a  violet  for  your  paynes. 

Philautus   being   driuen   to   this   shift   wished  him  selfe   in   his 
chamber,  for  this  he  thought  that  if  he  shoulde  choose    Camilla 
she  woulde  not  accept  it,  if  an  other,  she  might  iustly  reiect  him. 
If  he  shoulde  discouer  his  loue,  then  woulde  Camilla  thinke  him  10 
not  to  be  secreate,  if  concele  it,  not  to  be  feruent :  besides  all,  the 
Ladyes  woulde  espie  his  loue  and  preuent  it,  or  Camilla  despise 
his  offer,  and  not  regarde  it.     While  he  was  thus  in  a  deepe  medita 
tion,   Flauia   wakened    him    saying,   why   Gentleman  are   you    in 
a  dream  e,   or  is  there  none  heere  worthy  to  make  choyce  of,  or  15 
are  wee  all  so  indifferent,  that  there  is  neuer  a  good. 

Philautus  seeing  this  Lady  so  curteous,  and  louing  Camilla  so 
earnestly,  coulde  not  yet  resolue  with  himselfe  what  to  doe,  but  at 
the  last,  loue  whiche  neither  regardeth  what  it  speaketh,  nor  where, 
he  replied  thus  at  all  aduentures.  20 

TAdyes  and  Gentlewomen,  I  woulde  I  were  so  fortunate  that 
~^- **  I  might  choose  euery  one  of  you  for  a  flower,  and  then  would 
I  boldely  affirme  that  I  coulde  shewe  the  fayrest  poesie  in  the 
worlde,  but  follye  it  is  for  me  to  wish  that  being  a  slaue,  which  none 
can  hope  for,  that  is  an  Emperour.  If  I  make  my  choyse  I  shall  25 
speede  so  well  as  he  that  enioyeth  all  Europe.  And  with  that 
gathering  a  rose  he  gaue  it  to  Camilla,  whose  coulour  so  encreasd 
as  one  would  haue  iudged  al  hir  face  to  haue  been  a  Rose,  had  it 
not  beene  stayned  with  a  naturall  whitnesse,  which  made  hir  to 
excell  the  Rose,  30 

Camilla  with  a  smiling  countenance  as  though  nothing  greeued, 
yet  vexed  inwardly  to  the  heart,  refused  the  gifte  flatly,  pretending 
a  redy  excuse,  which  was,  that  Philautus  was  either  very  much  ouer 
seene  to  take  hir  before  the  Ladie  Flauia,  or  els  disposed  to  giue 
hir  a  mocke  aboue  the  rest  in  the  companie.  35 

Well  quoth  Flauia  to  Philautus,  (who  nowe  stoode  like  one  that 

5  enoyne  B                7  this]  his  E  rest                9  might]  may  F  rest               \  i 

besides,  all  the  A  rest             15  your  before  choise  E  rest  18  with  om.  E  rest 

19  neither]  neuer  E  rest                  20  he  om.  E  rest  21  I1  om.  E  rest 
23  posie  ABE  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  137 

had  beene  besmered)  there  is  no  harme  done,  for  I  perceiue  Camilla 
is  otherwise  spedde,  and  if  I  be  not  much  deceiued,  she  is  a  flower 
for  Surius  wearing,  the  penance  shee  shall  haue  is  to  make  you 
a  Nosegay  which  shee  shall  not  denye  thee,  vnlesse  shee  dene  vs, 

5  and  the  rewarde  thou  shalt  haue,  is  this,  while  you  tarrie  in 
Englande  my  neece  shal  be  your  Uiolet. 

This  Ladyes  cousin  was  named  Fraunds,  a  fay  re  Gentlewoman 
and  a  wise,  young  and  of  very  good  conditions,  not  much  inferiour 
to  Camilla,  equall  shee  could  not  be. 

10  Camilla  who  was  loth  to  be  accompted  in  any  company  coye, 
endeuoured  in  the  presence  of  the  Ladie  Flauia  to  be  very  curteous, 
and  gathered  for  Philautus  a  posie  of  all  the  finest  flowers  in  the 
Garden,  saying  thus  vnto  him,  I  hope  you  will  not  be  offended 
Philautus  in  that  I  coulde  not  be  your  Rose,  but  imputing  the 

15  faulte  rather  to  destinie  then  discurtesie. 

Philautus  plucking  vp  his  spirits,  gaue  hir  thanks  for  hir  paynes, 
and  immediately  gathered  a  violet,  which  he  gaue  mistres  Frauncis, 
which  she  curteously  receiued,  thus  all  partes  were  pleased  for  that 
time. 

20  Philautus  was  inuited  to  dinner,  so  that  he  could  no  longer  stay, 
but  pulling  out  the  booke  wherein  his  letter  was  enclosed,  he 
deliuered  it  to  Camilla,  taking  his  humble  leaue  of  the  Lady  Flauia 
and  the  rest  of  the  Gentlewomen. 

When  he  was  gone  there  fell  much  talke  of  him  between  the 

25  Gentlewomen,  one  commending  his  wit,  an  other  his  personage, 
some  his  fauour,  all  his  good  conditions  insomuch  that  the  Ladie 
Flauia  bound  it  with  an  othe,  that  she  thought  him  both  wise  and 
honest. 

When  the  company  was  dissolued,  Camilla  not  thinking  to  receiue 

30  an  aunswere,  but  a  lecture,  went  to  hir  Italian  booke  where  shee 
founde  the  letter  of  Philautus,  who  without  any  further  aduise,  as 
one  very  much  offended,  or  in  a  great  heate,  sent  him  this  bone  to 
gnawe  vppon. 

To  Philautus. 

35  O  Ufficed  it  not  thee  Philautus  to  bewraie  thy  follies  &  moue  my 

pacience,   but   thou   must   also    procure    in   me  a  minde  to 

reuenge,   &  to  thy  selfe  the  meanes  of  a   farther   perill?      Where 

4  thee  oni.  E  rest  5  thou  shalt]  you  shal  E  rest          is]  in  E  9 

sequall  M  14  impute  E  rest  26  all]  other  E  rest  33  on  F  rest 


138  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

diddest  thou  learne  that  being  forbidden  to  be  bold,  thou  shouldest 
growe  impudent?  or  being  suffered  to  be  familiar  thou  shouldest 
waxe  haile  fellowe?  But  to  so  malepert  boldnes  is  the  demeanor 
of  young  Gentlemen  come,  that  where  they  haue  bene  once  welcome 
for  curtesie,  they  thinke  themselues  worthie  to  court  any  Lady  by  5 
customes  :  wherin  they  imagine  they  vse  singuler  audacitie  which 
we  can  no  otherwise  terme  then  saucinesse,  thinking  women  are  to 
be  drawen  by  their  coyned  &  counterfait  conceipts,  as  the  straw  is 
by  the  Aumber,  or  the  yron  by  ye  Loadstone,  or  the  gold  by  the 
minerall  Chrysocolla.  10 

But  as  there  is  no  serpent  that  can  breede  in  the  Box  tree  for 
the  hardnesse,  nor  wil  build  in  the  Cypres  tree  for  the  bitternesse, 
so  is  there  no  fond  or  poysoned  louer  that  shall  enter  into  my  heart 
which  is  hardned  like  the  Adamant,  nor  take  delight  in  my  words, 
which  shalbe  more  bitter  then  Gall.  T5 

It  fareth  with  thee  Philautus,  as  with  the  droone,  who  hauing  lost 
hir  owne  wings,  seekes  to  spoile  the  Bees  of  theirs,  &  thou  being 
clipped  of  thy  libertie,  goest  about  to  bereaue  me  of  mine,  not  farre 
differing  from  the  natures  of  Dragons,  who  sucking  bloud  out  of  the 
Elephant,  kill  him,  and  with  the  same,  poyson  themselues  :  &  it  20 
may  be  that  by  the  same  meanes  that  thou  takest  in  hande  to 
inueigle  my  minde,  thou  entrap  thine  owne  :  a  iust  reward,  for  so 
vniust  dealing,  and  a  fit  reuenge  for  so  vnkinde  a  regard. 

But  I  trust  thy  purpose  shall  take  no  place,  and  that  thy  mallice 
shall  want  might,  wherein  thou  shalt  resemble  the  serpent  Porphirius,  25 
who  is  full  of  poyson,  but  being  toothlesse  he  hurteth  none  but 
riimselfe,  and  I  doubt  not  but  thy  minde  is  as  ful  of  deceipt,  as  thy 
words  are  of  flatterie,  but  hauing  no  toothe  to  bite,  I  haue  no  cause 
to  feare. 

I   had   not   thought    to   haue  vsed  so   sower  words,    but  where  3° 
a  wande  cannot  rule  the  horse,  a  spurre  must.     When  gentle  medi 
cines,   haue  no  force  to  purge,  wee  must  vse  bitter  potions  :    and 
where   the  sore  is  neither  to  be   dissolued  by  plaister,  nor  to  be 
broken,  it  is  requisite,  it  should  be  launced. 

Hearbes  that  are  the  worse  for  watering,  are  to  be  rooted  out,  35 
trees  that  are  lesse  fertile  for  the  lopping,  are  to  be  hewen  downe. 

3  wexe  EF  4  welcommed  E  rest  6  custome  E  rest  9  Amber 

E  rest  10  Chrysocholla  AB  12  or  E  rest  13  fond]  sound  1630-36 

1 6  Drone  GE  rest  17  hir]  his  A  rest  19  nature  E  rest  24  millice  B 
25  Prophirus  E  rest  28  teethe  A  rest  32  potion  H 1617,  1630-31  36 
fruitfull  E  rest  be  om.  M 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  139 

Hawkes  that  waxe  haggard  by  manning,  are  to  be  cast  off,  &  fonde 
louers,  that  encrease  in  their  follyes  when  they  be  reiected,  are  to 
bee  dispised. 

But  as  to  be  without  haire,  amongst  y6  Mycanions,  is  accepted  no 
5  shame,  bicause  they  be  al  borne  balde,  so  in  Italy  to  lyue  in  loue, 
is  thought  no  fault,  for  that  there  they  are  all  giuen  to  lust,  which 
maketh  thee  to  coniecture,  that  we  in  England  recken  loue  as  ye 
chiefest  vertue,  which  we  abhorre  as  ye  greatest  vice,  which  groweth 
lyke  the  luie  about  the  trees,  and  killeth  them  by  cullyng  them. 

10  Thou  arte  alwayes  talking  of  Loue,  and  applying  both  thy  witte 
and  thy  wealth  in  that  idle  trade  :  only  for  that  thou  thinkest  thy 
selfe  amiable,  not  vnlyke  vnto  the  Hedgehogge,  who  euermore 
lodgeth  in  the  thornes,  bicause  he  himselfe  is  full  of  prickells. 

But  take  this  both  for  a  warning   &  an  aunswer,  that  if  thou 

15  prosecute  thy  suite,  thou  shalt  but  vndoe  thy  selfe,  for  I  am  neither 
to  be  woed  with  thy  passions,  whilest  thou  liuest,  nor  to  repent  me 
of  my  rigor  when  thou  art  dead,  which  I  wold  not  haue  thee  think 
to  proceede  of  anye  hate  I  beare  thee,  for  I  malyce  none,  but  for 
loue  to  mine  honour,  which  neither  Italian  shal  violate,  nor  English 

20  man  diminish.  For  as  the  precious  stone  Chalazias,  being  thro  wen 
into  the  fire  keepeth  stil  his  coldnesse,  not  to  be  warmed  with  any 
heate,  so  my  heart  although  dented  at  with  ye  arrowes  of  thy  burning 
affections,  and  as  it  were  enuironed  with  the  fire  of  thy  loue,  shall 
alwayes  keepe  his  hardnesse,  &  be  so  farre  from  being  mollyfied, 

25  that  thou  shalt  not  perceiue  it  moued. 

The  Uiolet  Ladie  Flauia  bestowed  on  thee,  I  wishe  thee,  and  if 
thou  lyke  it,  I  will  further  thee,  otherwise  if  thou  persist  in  thine 
olde  follyes,  wherby  to  encrease  my  new  griefes,  I  will  neither  come 
where  thou  art,  nor  shalt  thou  haue  accesse  to  the  place  where  I  am. 

30  For  as  little  agreement  shal  there  be  betweene  vs,  as  is  betwixt  the 
Uine,  and  the  Cabish,  the  Oke  and  the  Olyue  tree,  the  Serpent  and 
the  Ash  tree,  the  yron  and  Theamedes. 

And  if  euer  thou  diddest  loue  me,  manifest  it  in  this,  that  heere- 
after  thou  neuer  write  to  mee,  so  shall  I  both  be  perswaded  of  thy 

35  faith,  and  eased  of  mine  owne  feare.  But  if  thou  attempt  againe  to 
wring  water  out  of  the  Pommice,  thou  shalt  but  bewraye  thy 
falshoode,  and  augment  thy  shame,  and  my  seueritie. 

4  Mycannions  H  rest  7  as  ye]  to  be  the  GE  rest  1 2  to  F  rest 

13  in  the]  amongst  E  rest  20  Calazias  E  rest  22  dinted  at  E  rest 

27  thy  F  rest  28  my]  thy  E  rest        neither]  neuer  B  rest  30  betwixt] 

betweene  E  rest  31   Cabbish  E  rest  32  Theamides  BE  rest 


140  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

For  this  I  sweare,  by  hir  whose  lyghts  can  neuer  dye,  Vesta,  and 
by  hir  whose  heasts  are  not  to  be  broken,  Diana,  that  I  will  neuer 
consent  to  loue  him,  whose  sight  (if  I  may  so  say  with  modestie)  is 
more  bitter  vnto  me  then  death. 

If  this  aunswere  wil  not  content  thee,  I  wil  shew  thy  letters,  5 
disclose  thy  loue,  and  make  thee  ashamed  to  vndertake  that,  which 
thou  cannest  neuer  bring  to  passe.     And  so  I  ende,  thine,  if  thou 

leaue  to  be  mine. 

Camilla. 

C^Amilla   dispatched    this    letter    with    speede,   and   sent    it   to  10 
^     Philautus  by  hir  man,  which  Philautus  hauing  read,  I  commit 
the  plyght  he  was  in,  to  the  consideration  of  you  Gentlemen  that 
haue  ben  in  the  like  :  he  tare  his  haire,  rent  his  clothes,  and  fell 
from  the  passions  of  a  Louer  to  the  panges  of  phrensie,  but  at  the 
last  callying  his  wittes  to  him,  forgetting  both  the  charge  Camilla  15 
gaue  him,  and  the  contents  of  hir  Letter,  hee  greeted  hir  immediately 
agayne,  with  an  aunswere  by  hir  owne  Messenger  in  this  manner. 

To  the  cruell  Camilla, 
greeting. 

IF  I  were  as  farre  in  thy  bookes  to  be  beleeued,  as  thou  art  in  20 
mine  to   be  beloued,  thou   shouldest  either  soone  be  made 
a  wife,  or  euer  remaine  a  Uirgin,  the  one  would  ridde  me  of  hope, 
the  other  acquit  mee  of  feare. 

But  seeing  there  wanteth  witte  in  mee  to  perswade,  and  will  in 
thee  to  consent :  I  meane  to  manifest  the  beginning  of  my  Loue,  25 
by  the  ende  of  my  lyfe,  the  affects  of  the  one  shal  appeare  by  the 
effects  of  the  other. 

When  as  neither  solempne  oath  nor  sound  perswasion,  nor  any 
reason  can  worke  in  thee  a  remorse,  I  meane  by  death  to  shew  my 
desire,  the  which  the  sooner  it  commeth,  the  sweeter  it  shalbe,  and  30 
the  shortnes  of  the  force,  shal  abate  the  sharpnes  of  the  sorrow. 
I  cannot  tel  whether  thou  laugh  at  my  folly,  or  lament  my  phresie, 
but  this  I  say,  &  with  salt  teares  trickling  down  my  cheekes,  I  swere, 
y*  thou  neuer  foundst  more  plesure  in  reiecting  my  loue,  then  thou 
shalt  feele  paine  in  remebring  my  losse,  &  as  bitter  shal  lyfe  be  to  35 

7  cannesse^:  canst  E  rest  n  omit  E  rest  14  pangues  G  15 

wit  Brest  16  immedialye  M  26  effects  E :   affect  1623-36  33 

sweare  A  rest  35  feele]  finde  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS  ENGLAND  141 

thee,  as  death  to  me,  and  as  sorrowfull  shai  my  friends  be  to  see 
thee  prosper,  as  thine  glad  to  see  me  perish. 

Thou  thinkest  all  I  write,  of  course,  and  makest  all  I  speake,  of 
small  accompt  :    but   God   who    reuengeth    the    periuries  of  the 
5  dissembler,  is  witnesse  of  my  truth,  of  whom  I  desire  no  longer  to 
lyue,  the  I  meane  simply  to  loue. 

I  will  not  vse  many  wordes,  for  if  thou  be  wise,  few  are  sufficient, 
if  froward,  superfluous  :  one  lyne  is  inough,  if  thou  be  courteous, 
one  word  too  much,  if  thou  be  cruell.  Yet  this  I  adde  and  that 
10  in  bitternes  of  soule,  that  neither  my  hande  dareth  write  that,  which 
my  heart  intendeth,  nor  my  tongue  vtter  that,  which  my  hande  shall 
execute.  And  so  fare-well,  vnto  whom  onely  I  wish  well. 

Thine  euer,  though 

shortly  neuer. 
15  Philautus. 

PHis  Letter  beeing  written  in  the  extremitie  of  his  rage,  he  sent 

by  him  that  brought  hirs.     Camilla  perceiuing  a  fresh  reply, 

was  not  a  little  melancholy,  but  digesting  it  with  company,  &  burning 

the  letter,  she  determined  neuer  to  write  to  him,  nor  after  y4  to  see 

20  him,  so  resolute  was  she  in  hir  opinion,  I  dare  not  say  obstinate 
least  you  gentlewomen  shoulde  take  pepper  in  the  nose,  when  I  put 
but  salt  to  your  mouthes.  But  this  I  dare  boldly  affirme,  that  Ladies 
are  to  be  woed  with  Appelks  pencill,  Orpheus  Harpe,  Mercuries 
tongue,  Adonis  beautie,  Crcesus  welth,  or  els  neuer  to  be  wone,  for 

25  their  bewties  being  biased,  their  eares  tickled,  their  mindes  moued, 
their  eyes  pleased,  there  appitite  satisfied,  their  coffers  filled,  when 
they  haue  al  thinges  they  shoulde  haue  and  would  haue,  then  men 
neede  not  to  stande  in  doubt  of  their  comming,  but  of  their 
constancie. 

30  But  let  me  followe  Philautus^  who  nowe  both  loathing  his  life  and 
cursing  his  lucke,  called  to  remembrance  his  old  friend  Euphues, 
whom  he  was  wont  to  haue  alwayes  in  mirth  a  pleasant  companio, 
in  griefe  a  comforter,  in  al  his  life  the  only  stay  of  his  lybertie,  the 
discurtesie  which  hee  offered  him  so  encreased  his  greefe,  that  he 

35  fell  into  these  termes  of  rage,  as  one  either  in  an  extascie,  or  in 
a  lunacie. 

Nowe  Philautus  dispute  no  more  with  thy  selfe  of  thy  loue,  but 

4-5  of  dissemblers  E  rest  22  to]  in  AB  24  to  om.  E  rest 

wonne  A  rest  25  tickle  E 


142  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

be  desparate  to  ende  thy  life,  thou  hast  cast  off  thy  friende,  and  thy 
Lady  hath  forsaken  thee,  thou  destitute  of  both,  canst  neither  haue 
comfort  of  Camilla,  whom  thou  seest  obstinate,  nor  counsaile  of 
Euphues,  whom  thou  hast  made  enuious. 

Ah  my  good  friende  Euphues,  I  see  nowe  at  length,  though  too  5 
late,  y*  a  true  friend  is  of  more  price  then  a  kingdome,  and  that  the 
faith  of  thee  is  to  be  preferred,  before  the  beautie  of  Camilla. 

For  as  salfe  being  is  it  in  the  company  of  a  trustie  mate,  as 
sleeping  in  the  grasse  Trifole,  where  there  is  no  serpent  so  venemous 
that  dare  venture.  10 

Thou  wast  euer  carefull  for  my  estate,  &  I  carelesse  for  thine, 
thou  diddest  alwayes  feare  in  me  the  fire  of  loue,  I  euer  flattered 
my  selfe  with  the  bridle  of  wisedome,  when  thou  wast  earnest  to  giue 
me  counsaile,  I  waxed  angrie  to  heare  it,  if  thou  diddest  suspect  me 
vpo  iust  cause,  I  fel  out  with  thee  for  euery  light  occasion,  nowe  15 
now  Euphues^  I  see  what  it  is  to  want  a  friend,  &  what  it  is  to  loose 
one,  thy  wordes  are  come  to  passe  which  once  I  thought  thou  spakest 
in  sport,  but  nowe  I  finde  them  as  a  prophecie,  that  I  should  be 
constrayned  to  stande  at  Euphues  dore  as  the  true  owner. 

What  shal  I  do  in  this  extremitie?  which  way  shal  I  turne  me?  20 
of  who  shal  I  seeke  remedie?   Euphues  wil  reiect  me,  &  why  shoulde 
he  not?     Camilla  hath  reiected  me,  &  why  should  she?  the  one 
I  haue  offended  with  too  much  griefe,  the  other  I  haue  serued  with 
too  great  good  will,  the  one  is  lost  w*  loue,  the  other  w*  hate,  he  for 
that  I  cared  not  for  him,  she  because  I  cared  for  hir.     I  but  though  25 
Camilla  be  not  to  be  moued,  Euphues  may  be  mollified.     Trie  him 
Philautus,  sue  to  him,  make  friends,  write  to  him,  leaue  nothing 
vndone  that  may  either  shew  in  thee  a  sorrowful  heart,  or  moue  in 
him  a  minde  that  is  pitifull.    Thou  knowest  he  is  of  nature  curteous, 
one  that  hateth  none,,  that  loueth  thee,  that  is  tractable  in  al  things,  30 
Lions  spare  those  yt  couch  to  the,  the  Tygresse  biteth  not  when  shee 
is  clawed,  Cerberus  barketh  not  if  Orpheus  pipe  sweetly,  assure  thy 
self  that  if  thou  be  penitent,  he  will  bee  pleased  :   and  the  old 
friendship  wilbe  better  then  the  newe. 

Thus  Philautus  ioying  nowe  in  nothing  but  onely  in  the  hope  35 
he  had  to  recouer  the  friendship  with  repetance,  which  he  had  broke 
off  by  rashnesse,  determined  to  greet  his  friend  Euphues,  who  al  this 

6-7  the  .  .  .  thee]  thy  faith  E  rest  8  safe  A  rest  it  is  E  rest  9  Trifoile 
£-1623:  Trifolie  1630-36  14  heare]  beare  -#"-1631  15  nowe  om.  E  rest 

21  me]  thee  B  29  a  pittifull  mind  E  rest  36  the]  y*  B 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  143 

while  lost  no  time  at  his  booke  in  London,  but  howe  he  imployed  it, 
he  shall  himselfe  vtter,  for  that  I  am  neither  of  his  counsaile  nor 
court,  but  what  he  hath  done  he  will  not  conceale,  for  rather  he 
wisheth  to  be  wray  his  ignorance,  then  his  ydlenes,  and  willinger  you 
5  shall  find  him  to  make  excuse  of  rudenesse  then  lasinesse. 
But  thus  Philautus  saluted  him. 

Philautus  to  Euphues. 

THe  sharpe  Northeast  winde  (my  good  Euphues)  doth  neuer 
last  three  dayes,  tempestes  haue  but  a  short  time,  and  the 
10  more  violent  the  thunder  is,  the  lesse  permanent  it  is.     In 

the  like  maner  it  falleth  out  with  ye  iarres  &  crossings  of  friends 
which  begun  in  a  minuit,  are  ended  in  a  moment. 

Necessary  it  is  that  among  frinds  there  should  bee  some  ouer- 
thwarting,  but  to  cotinue  in  anger  not  conuenient,  the  Camill  first 
15  troubleth  the  water  before  he  drinke,  the  Frankensence  is  burned 
before  it  smell,  friendes  are  tryed  before  they  are  to  be  trusted,  least 
shining  like  the  Carbuncle  as  though  they  had  fire,  they  be  found 
being  touched,  to  be  without  fire. 

Friendshippe  should  be  like  the  wine  which  Homer  much  com- 

20  mending,  calleth  Maroneum,  whereof  one  pient  being  mingled  w* 

fiue  quartes  of  water,  yet  it  keepeth  his  old  strength  &  vertue,  not  to 

be  qualified  by  any  discurtesie.     Where  salt  doth  grow  nothing  els 

can  breede,  where  friendship  is  built,  no  offence  ca  harbour. 

Then  good  Euphues  let  the  falling  out  of  frinds  be  a  renewing  of 
25  affection,  that  in  this  we  may  resemble  the  bones  of  the  Lyon,  which 
lying  stil  &  not  moued  begin  to  rot,  but  being  striken  one  against 
another  break  out  like  fire,  and  wax  greene. 

The  anger  of  friends  is  not  vnlike  vnto  the  phisitions  Cucurbitce 

which  drawing  al  ye  infectio  in  ye  body  into  one  place,  doth  purge  al 

30  diseases  :  and  the  rages  of  friendes,  reaping  vp  al  the  hidde  malices,, 

or  suspicions,  or  follyes  that  lay  lurking  in  the  minde,  maketh  the 

knot  more  durable :   For  as  the  bodie  being  purged  of  melancholy 

waxeth  light  and  apt  to  all  labour,  so  the  minde  as  it  were  scoured 

of  mistrust,  becommeth  fit  euer  after  for  beleefe. 

35      But  why  doe  I  not  confesse  that  which  I  haue  comitted,  or  knowing 

4  wished  E  rest  6  thus]  mithus  H,  i.  e.  thus  mixed  with  with  this  ('  m  'for 
'w')  ii  ye  om.  E  rest  12  minute  ^-^1623, 1636 :  minut  H  1617,  1630-31 
16  are  to  om.  A  rest  20  Maronium  F  rest  pinte  A  rest  24  good  om. 

E  rest        a]  the  A  rest          29  the  after  al2  E  rest          30  rages]  iarres  B  rest 
ripping  F  rest  malice  H  rest  31  lie  E  rest 


144  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

my  selfe  guilty,  why  vse  I  to  glose,  I  haue  vniustly  my  good  Euphues, 
picked  a  quarrel  against  thee,  forgetting  the  counsell  thou  gauest 
me,  &  despising  that  which  I  nowe  desire.  Which  as  often  as  I  call 
to  my  minde,  I  cannot  but  blush  to  my  selfe  for  shame,  and  fall  out 
with  my  selfe  for  anger,  For  in  falling  out  with  thee,  I  haue  done  5 
no  otherwise  then  he  that  desiring  to  saile  salfely  killeth  him  at  the 
helme,  resembling  him  that  hauing  neede  to  alight  spurreth  his  horse 
to  make  him  stande  still,  or  him  that  swimming  vpon  anothers  backe, 
seeketh  to  stoppe  his  breath. 

It  was  in  thee  Euphues  that  I  put  all  my  trust,  &  yet  vppon  thee  10 
that  I  powred  out  all  my  mallice,  more  cruel  then  the  Crocadile,  who 
suffereth  the  birde  to  breede  in  hir  mouth,  y*  scoureth  hir  teeth, 
&  nothing  so  gentle  as  the  princely  Lyon,  who  saued  his  life,  that 
helped  his  foote.     But  if  either  thy  good  nature  can  forget,  that 
which  my  ill  tongue  doth  repent,  or  thy  accustomable  kindnesse  15 
forgiue,  that  my  vnbridled  furie  did  commit,  I  will  hereafter  be  as 
willing  to  be  thy  seruant,  as  I  am  now  desirous  to  be  thy  friend,  and 
as  redie  to  take  an  iniurie,  as  I  was  to  giue  an  offence. 

What  I  haue  done  in  thine  absence  I  will  certifie  at  thy  comming, 
and  yet  I  doubt  not  but  thou  cannest  gesse  by  my  conditio,  yet  this  20 
I  add,  that  I  am  as  ready  to  die  as  to  Hue,  &  were  I  not  animated 
w*  the  hope  of  thy  good  counsell,  I  would  rather  haue  suffered  the 
death  I  wish  for,  the  sustained  the  shame  I  sought  for.    But  nowe  in 
these  extremities  reposing  both  my  life  in  thy  hands,  and  my  seruice 
at  thy  commaundement,  I  attend  thine  aunswere,  and  rest  thine  to  25 
vse  more  then  his  owne. 

Philautus* 

HP  His  letter  he  dispatched  by  his  boye,  which  Euphues  reading, 
could  not  tell  whether  he  shoulde  more  reioyce  at  his  friends 
submission,  or  mistrust  his  subtiltie,  therefore  as  one  not  resoluing  30 
himselfe  to  determine  any  thing,  as  yet,  aunswered  him  thus  imme 
diately  by  his  owne  messenger. 

2  giuest  BG  6  desireth  G  safely  A  rest  12  tooth  H  rest 

15  repeat  H  rest  19  thine]  thy  E  rest  20  thereof  before  by  E  rest  this] 
thus  much  E  rest  23  sustaine  E  rest  24-5  seruice  at]  unfained  seruice 

and  good  will  for  euer  hereafter  at  E  rest  28  This  .  .  .  boye]  This  Letter 

beeing  ended,  Philautus  sent  the  same  by  his  seruant  E  rest  28-9  reading,  .  .  . 
whether]  reading,  stoode  as  one  in  a  quandarie,  not  knowing  whether  E  rest  30-2 
therefore  .  .  .  messenger]  these  two  lines  are  thus  developed  in  E  rest — therefore 
beeing  as  yet  not  fullie  determined  to  any  thing,  hee  presently  departed  into  his 
chamber,  and  without  further  search  of  Philautus  well  meaning,  sent  him  an 
aunswere  by  his  owne  messenger,  in  manner  as  heereafter  followeth. 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  145 

Euphues  to  him,  that  was 
his  Philautus. 

IHaue  receiued  thy  letter,  and  know  the  man  :   I  read  it  and 
perceiued  the  matter,  which  I  am  as  farre  from  knowing  how  to 
5  aunswere,  as  I  was  from  looking  for  sueh  an  errand. 

Thou  beginnest  to  inferre  a  necessitie  that  friends  should  fall  out, 
when  as  I  can-not  allowe  a  conuenience.  For  if  it  be  among  such 
as  are  faithfull,  there  should  be  no  cause  of  breach  :  if  betweene 
dissemblers,  no  care  of  reconciliation. 

10  The  Camel  saist  thou,  loueth  water,  when  it  is  troubled,  &  I  say, 
the  Hart  thirsteth  for  the  cleare  streame  :  &  fitly  diddest  thou  bring 
it  in  against  thy  selfe  (though  applyed  it,  I  know  not  how  aptlye  for 
thy  selfe)  for  such  friendship  doest  thou  lyke,  where  braules  maye  be 
stirred,  not  quietnesse  sought. 

15  The  wine  Maroneum  which  thou  comendest,  &  the  salt  groud 
which  thou  inferrest,  ye  one  is  neither  fit  for  thy  drinking,  nor  the 
other  for  thy  tast,  for  such  strong  Wines  will  ouercome  such  lyght 
wits,  and  so  good  salt  cannot  relysh  in  so  vnsauory  a  mouth,  neither 
as  thou  desirest  to  applye  them,  can  they  stande  thee  in  steede.  For 

20  often-times  haue  I  found  much  water  in  thy  deedes,  but  not  one  drop 
of  such  wine,  &  the  ground  where  salte  should  grow,  but  neuer  one 
corne  that  had  sauour. 

After  many  reasons  to  conclude,  that  iarres  were  requisit,  thou 
fallest  to  a  kinde  of  submission,  which  I  meruayle  at :  For  if  I  gaue 

25  no  cause,  why  diddest  thou  picke  a  quarrell :  if  any,  why  shouldest 
thou  craue  a  pardon?  If  thou  canst  defie  thy  best  friend,  what 
wilt  thou  doe  to  thine  enemie  ?  Certeinly  this  must  needes  ensue, 
that  if  thou  canst  not  be  constant  to  thy  friend,  when  he  doth  thee 
good,  thou  wilt  neuer  beare  w*  him,  when  hee  shall  do  thee  harme  : 

30  thou  that  seekest  to  spil  the  blond  of  the  innocent,  canst  shew  small 
mercye  to  an  offender :  thou  that  treadest  a  Worme  on  ye  taile,  wilt 
crush  a  Waspe  on  the  head :  thou  that  art  angry  for  no  cause,  wilt 
I  thinke  runne  madde  for  a  light  occasion. 

Truly  Philautus,  that  once  I  loued  thee,  I  can-not  deny,  that  now 

35  I  should  againe  doe  so,  I  refuse :   For  smal  confidence  shal  I  repose 
in  thee,  when  I  am  guiltie,  that  can  finde  no  refuge  in  innocencie. 
The  malyce  of  a  friend,  is  like  the  sting  of  an  Aspe,  which  nothing 

7  when  as]  when  E  rest        aa  inconuenience  GE  rest  20  I  haue  E  rest 

26  a  om.  E  rest 

BOND   II  L 


146  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

can  remedie,  for  being  pearced  in  the  hande  it  must  be  cut  off,  and 
a  friend  thrust  to  the  heart  it  must  be  pulled  out. 

I  had  as  liefe  Philautus  haue  a  wound  that  inwardly  might  lyghtly 
grieue  me,  then  a  scar  that  outwardly  should  greatly  shame  me. 

In  that  thou  seemest  so  earnest  to  craue  attoneme't  thou  causest  5 
me  ye  more  to  suspect  thy  truth :   for  either  thou  art  copelled  by 
necessitie,  &  then  it  is  not  worth  thankes,  or  els  disposed  againe  to 
abuse  me,  and  then  it  deserueth  reuenge.     Eeles  cannot  be  helde 
in  a  wet  hande,  yet  are  they  stayed  with  a  bitter  Figge  leafe,  the 
Lamprey  is  not  to  be  killed  with  a  cudgel,  yet  is  she  spoiled  with  10 
a  cane,  so  friends  that  are  so  slipperie,  and  wauering  in  all  their 
dealyngs  are  not  to  be  kept  with  fayre  and  smooth  talke,  but  with 
rough  and  sharp  taunts :  and  contrariwise,  those  which  with  blowes, 
are  not  to  be  reformed,  are  oftentimes  wonne  with  light  perswasions. 

Which  way  I  should  vse  thee  I  know  not,  for  now  a  sharpe  word  15 
moued  thee,  when  otherwhiles  a  sword  wil  not,  then  a  friendly  checke 
killeth  thee,  when  a  rasor  cannot  rase  thee. 

But  to  conclude  Philautus,  it  fareth  with  me  now,  as  with  those, 
that  haue  bene  once  bitten  with  ye  Scorpion,  who  neuer  after  feele 
anye  sting,  either  of  the  Waspe/  or  the  Hornet,  or  the  Bee,  for  20 
I  hauing  bene  pricked  with  thy  falsehoode  shall  neuer  I  hope 
againe  be  touched  with  any  other  dissembler,  flatterer,  or  fickle 
friend. 

Touching  thy  lyfe  in  my  absence,  I  feare  me  it  hath  bene  too 
loose,  but  seeing  my  counsell  is  no  more  welcome  vnto  thee  then  25 
water  into  a  ship,  I  wil  not  wast  winde  to  instruct  him,  that  wasteth 
himselfe  to  destroy  others. 

Yet  if  I  were  as  fully  perswaded  of  thy  conuersion,  as  thou  wouldest 
haue  mee  of  thy  confession,  I  might  happely  doe  that,  which  now 
I  will  not.  30 

And  so  fare-well  Philautus,  and  though  thou  lyttle  esteeme  my 
counsayle,  yet  haue  respect  to  thine  owne  credite :  So  in  working 
thine  owne  good,  thou  shalt  keepe  me  from  harme. 

Thine  once> 
Euphues.  35 

This  letter  pinched  Philautus  at  the  first,  yet  trusting  much  to  ye 
good  dispositio  of  Euphues^  he  determined  to  perseuer  both  in  his 

i  for]  but  E  rest  4  then]  as  E  rest  19  feeleth  GE  rest  29  happily 
.£"-1623:  haply  1630-36 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  147 

sute  &  amendment,  &  therfore  as  one  beating  his  yron  that  he  might 
frame  it  while  it  were  hoat,  aunswered  him  in  this  manner. 

To  mine  onely  friend% 
Euphues. 

5  r  I  ^Here  is  no  bone  so  hard  but  being  laid  in  vineger,  it  may  be 

J.       wrought,  nor  luory  so  tough,  but  seasoned  with  Zutho  it  may 

be  engrauen,  nor  Box  so  knottie,  that  dipped  in  oyle  can-not  be 

carued,  and  can  ther  be  a  heart  in  Euphues^  which  neither  will  yeelde 

to  softnesse  with  gentle  perswasions,  nor  true  perseueraunce  ?    What 

10  canst  thou  require  at  my  hande,  that  I  will  deny  thee  ?  haue  I  broken 
the  league  of  friendship?    I  confesse  it,   haue  I  misused  thee  in 
termes,  I  will  not  deny  it.     But  being  sorrowfull  for  either,  why 
shouldest  not  thou  forgiue  both. 
.     Water  is  praysed  for  that  it  sauoureth  of  nothing,  Fire,  for  that  it 

15  yeeldeth  to  nothing :  &  such  should  the  nature  of  a  true  friend  be, 
that  it  should  not  sauour  of  any  rigour,  and  such  the  effect,  that  it 
may  not  be  conquered  with  any  offence :  Otherwise,  faith  put  into 
the  breast  that  beareth  grudges,  or  contracted  with  him  that  can 
remember  griefes,  is  not  vnlyke  vnto  Wine  poured  into  Firre  vessels, 

20  which  is  present  death  to  the  drinker. 

Friends  must  be  vsed,  as  the  Musitians  tune  their  strings,  who 
finding  them-  in  a  discorde,  doe  not  breake  them,  but  either  by 
intention  or  remission,  frame  them  to  a  pleasant  consent:  or  as 
Riders  handle  their  young  Coltes,  who  finding  them  wilde  &  vntract- 

25  able,  bring  them  to  a  good  pace,  with  a  gentle  rayne,  not  with 
a  sharp  spurre,  or  as  the  Scithians  ruled  their  slaues  not  with  cruell 
weapons,  but  with  the  shewe  of  small  whippes.  Then  Euphties 
consider  with  thy  selfe  what  I  may  be,  not  what  I  haue  beene,  and 
forsake  me  not  for  that  I  deceiued  thee,  if  thou  doe,  thy  discurtesie 

30  wil  breede  my  destruction. 

For  as  there  is  no  beast  that  toucheth  the  hearbe  whereon  the 
Beare  hath  brethed,  so  there  is  no  man  that  will  come  neere  him, 
vpon  whom  the  suspicion  of  deceipt  is  fastened. 

Concerning  my  life  passed,  I  conceale  it,  though  to  thee  I  meane 

35  hereafter  to  confesse  it :  yet  hath  it  not  beene  so  wicked  y*1  thou 
shouldest  be  ashamed,  though  so  infortunate,  that  I  am  greeued. 
Consider  we  are  in  England,  where  our  demeanour  will  be  narrowly 

9  nor]  or  H  rest  19  vnto  om.  E  rest  22  a  om.  E  rest  29  deceiue 
E  rest  36  ashamed]  shamed  E  rest 

L  2 


148  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

marked  if  we  treade  a  wrie,  and  our  follyes  mocked  if  vse  wrangling, 
I  thinke  thou  art  willing  that  no  such  thing  shoulde  happen,  and 
I  knowe  thou  art  wise  to  preuent  it. 

I  was  of  late  in  the  company  of  diuers  gentlewomen,  among 
whom  Camilla  was  present,  who  meruailed  not  a  little,  that  thou  5 
soughtest  either  to  absent  thy  selfe  of  some  conceiued  iniurie,  where 
there  was  none  giuen,  or  of  set  purpose,  bicause  thou  wouldest 
giue  one. 

I  thinke  it  requisite  as  well  to  auoyd  the  suspicion  of  malice,  as  to 
shunne  ye  note  of  ingratitude,  that  thou  repayre  thither,  both  to  10 
purge   thy   selfe   of  the   opinion,   may  be  conceiued,  and  to  giue 
thanks  for  the  benefits  receiued. 

Thus  assuring  my  selfe  thou  wilt  aunswere  my  expectation,  and 
renue  our  olde  amitie,  I  ende,  thine  assured  to  commaunde. 

Philautus.  1  5 


did  not  sleepe  about  his  busines,  but  presetly  sent  this 
letter,  thinking  that  if  once  he  could  fasten  friendshippe  againe 
vppon  Euphues,  that  by  his  meanes  he  should  compasse  his  loue 
with  Camilla^  and  yet  this  I  durst  affirme,  that  Philautus  was  both 
willing  to  haue  Euphues^  and  sorrowfull  that  he  lost  him  by  his  29 
owne  lauishnes. 

Euphues  perused  this  letter  oftentimes    being  in  a  mammering 
what  to  aunswere,  at  the  last  he  determined    once   againe  to   lie 
a  loofe,  thinking  that  if  Philautus  meant  faithfully,  he  woulde  not 
desist  from  his  suite,  and  therefore  he  returned  salutations  in  this  25 
manner. 

Euphues  to  Philauttis. 

T^Here  is  an  hearbe  in  India  Philautus  of  plesaunt  smell,  but 
who  so  cometh  to  it  feeleth  present  smart,  for  that  there 
breede  in  it  a  number  of  small  serpents.  And  it  may  be  that  3° 
though  thy  letter  be  full  of  sweete  words,  there  breed  in  thy  heart 
many  bitter  thoughts,  so  that  in  giuing  credite  to  thy  letters,  I  may 
be  deceiued  with  thy  leasings. 

The  Box  tree  is  alwayes  greene,  but  the  seede  is  poyson  :   Tilia 
hath  a  sweete  rinde  &  a  pleasant  leafe,  but  ye  fruite  so  bitter  that  no  35 
beast  wil  bite  it,  a  dissembler  hath  euer-more  Honnye  in  his  mouth, 

r  a  wrie]  awrye  A  rest          we  before  vse  A  rest          16  this]  his  A  rest          25 
salutation  E  rest          33  leasing  H  rest  34  Tila  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  149 

and  Gall  in  his  minde,  whiche  maketh  me  to  suspecte  their  wiles, 
though  I  cannot  euer  preuent  them. 

Thou  settest  downe  the  office  of  a  friend,  which  if  thou  couldst  as 
well  performe  as  thou  canst  describe,  I  woulde  be  as  willing  to  con- 
5  firme  our  olde  league,  as  I  am  to  beleeue  thy  newe  lawes.  Water 
that  sauoureth  nothing  (as  thou  sayest)  may  bee  heated  and  scald 
thee,  and  fire  whiche  yealdeth  to  nothing  may  be  quenched,  when 
thou  wouldest  warme  thee. 

So  the  friende  in  whome  there  was  no  intent  to  offende,  may 
20  thorowe  the  sinister  dealings  of  his  fellowe  bee  turned  to  heate, 
beeing  before  colde,  and  the  faith  which  wrought  like  a  flame  in 
him,  be  quenched  and  haue  no  sparke. 

The  powring  of  Wine  into  Firre  vessels  serueth  thee  to  no  purpose, 
for  if  it  be  good  Wine,  there  is  no  man  so  foolish  to  put  into  Firre, 
15  if  bad,  who  woulde  power  into  better  then  Firre. 

Mustie  Caskes  are  fitte  for  rotten  Grapes,  a  barrel  of  poysoned 
luie  is  good  ynough  for  a  tunne  of  stinking  Oyle,  and  crueltie 
too  milde  a  medicine  for  crafte 

Howe  Musitions  tune  their  instruments  I  knowe,  but  how  a  man 

20  should  temper  his  friend  I  cannot    tel,  yet  oftentimes  the  string 

breaketh  that  the  Musition  seeketh  to  tune,  &  the  friend  cracketh 

which  good  counsell  shoulde  tame,  such  coltes  are  to  be   ridden 

with   a   sharpe    snafle,    not   with  a   pleasant  bitte,    and   little   will 

the  Sithian  whippe  be  regarded,  where  the  sharpnes  of  the  sword  is 

25  derided. 

If  thy  lucke  haue  beene  infortunate,  it  is  a  signe  thy  liuing  hath 
not  beene  Godly,  for  commonly  there  commeth  an  yll  ende  where 
there  was  a  naughtie  beginning. 

But  learne  Philautus  to  liue  hereafter  as  though  thou  shouldest 
3°  not  liue  at  all,  be  constant  to  them  that  trust  thee,  &  trust  them  that 
thou  hast  tried,  dissemble  not  with  thy  friend,  either  for  feare  to  dis 
please  him,  or  for  malice  to  deceiue  him,  know  this  y*  the  best 
simples  are  very  simple,  if  the  phisition  could  not  applie  them,  that 
precious  stones  were  no  better  then  Pebbles,  if  Lapidaries  did  not 
35  knowe  them,  that  the  best  friende  is  worse  then  a  foe,  if  a  man  doe 
not  vse  him. 

Methridate  must  be  taken  inwardly,  not  spread  on  plaisters, 
purgations  must  be  vsed  like  drink,  not  like  bathes,  the  counsaile  of 

12  quenthed  M  14  it  before  into  A  rest  15  powre  ABHrest : 

poure  GEF        26  haue]  hath  E        35  that]  and  E  rest        37  on]  in  E  rest 


150  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

a  friend  must  be  fastened  to  the  minde,  not  to  the  eare,  followed, 
not  praysed,  employed  in  good  liuing,  not  talked  off  in  good 
meaning. 

I  know  Philautus  we  are  in  Englad,  but  I  would  we  wer  not,  not 
yt  the  place  is  too  base,  but  that  we  are  too  bad,  &  God  graunt  5 
thou  haue  done  nothing  which  may  turne  thee  to  discredite,  or  me 
to  displeasure.  Thou  sayest  thou  werte  of  late  with  Camilla,  I  feare 
me  too  late,  and  yet  perhaps  too  soone,  I  haue  alwayes  tolde  thee, 
that  she  was  too  high  for  thee  to  clymb,  &  too  faire  for  others  to 
catch,  and  too  vertuous  for  any  to  inueigle.  10 

But  wilde  horses  breake  high  hedges,  though  they  cannot  leap 
ouer  the,  eager  Wolues  bark  at  ye  Moone  though  they  cannot 
reach  it,  and  Mercurie  whisteleth  for  Vesta,  though  he  cannot 
winne  hir. 

For  absenting  my  selfe,  I  hope  they  can  take  no  cause  of  offence,  15 
neither  that  I  knowe  have  I  giuen  any.     I  loue  not  to  be  bold,  yet 
would  I  be  welcome,  but  gestes  and  fish  say  we  in  Athens  are  euer 
stale  within  three  dayes,  shortly  I  will  visite  them,  and  excuse  my 
selfe,  in  the  meane  season  I  thinke  so  well  of  them,  as  it  is  possible 
for  a  man  to  thinke  of  women,  and  how  well  that  is,  I  appeale  to  20 
thee  who  alwayes  madest  them  no  worse  then  sancts  in  heauen, 
and  shrines  in  no  worse  place  then  thy  heart. 

For  aunswering  thy  suite  I  am  not  yet  so  hastie,  for  accepting  thy 
seruice  I  am  not  so  imperious,  for  in  friendeship  there  must  be  an 
equalitie  of  estates,  &  be  that  may  bee  in  vs,  also  a  similitude  of  25 
manners,  and  that  cannot,  vnlesse  thou  learne  a  newe  lesson,  and 
leaue  the  olde,  vntill  which  time  I  leaue  thee,  wishing  thee  well  as 

to  my  selfe. 

Euphues. 

THis  Letter  was  written  in  hast,  sent  with  speed,  &  aunswered  3° 
againe  in  post.     For  Philautus  seeing  so  good  counsaile  could 
not  proceede  of  any  ill  conceipt,  thought  once  againe  to  sollicite  his 
friend,  and  that  in  such  tearmes  as  he  might  be  most  agreeable  to 
Euphues  tune.     In  this  manner. 

i  to3  om.  E  rest         12  the]  him  B          17  guestes  A  rest,  except  guesses  1623 
19  it  om.  E  rest  21  Saints  E  rest  22  shrines  so  all  24  so  om.  AB 

25  be  om.  A  rest,  E  rest  placing  colon  after  in  vs  26  diners  before  manners 

GE  rest          that  om.  GE  rest         32  any]  an  E  rest         33  he  might  om.  E  rest 
34  tune]  time  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  151 

To  Euphues  health  in  body, 
and  quietnesse  in  minde* 

IN  Musicke  there  are  many  discords,  before  there  can  be  framed 
a  Diapason,  and  in  contracting  of  good  will,  many  iarres  before 
5  there  be  established  a  friendship,  but  by  these  meanes,  the  Musicke 
is  more  sweet,  and  the  amitie  more  sound.     I  haue  receiued  thy 
letter,  where-in  there  is  as  much  good  counsaile  conteined  as  either 
I  would  wish,,  or  thou  thy  selfe  couldest  giue  :  but  euer  thou  harpest 
on  that  string,  which  long  since  was  out  of  tune,  but  now  is  broken, 
10  my  inconstancie. 

Certes  my  good  Euphues,  as  I  can-not  but  commend  thy  wisedome 
in  making  a  staye  of  reconciliation,  (for  that  thou  findest  so  lyttle 
stay  in  me)  so  can  I  not  but  meruayle  at  thy  incredulytie  in  not 
beleeuing  me,  since  that  thou  seest  a  reformation  in  me. 
15  But  it  maye  be  thou  dealest  with  me,  as  the  Philosopher  did  with 
his  knife,  who  being  many  yeares  in  making  of  it,  alwayes  dealyng 
by  the  obseruation  of  the  starres,  caused  it  at  the  last  to  cut  the  hard 
whet-stone,  saying  that  it  skilled  not  how  long  things  were  a  doing, 
but  how  well  they  were  done. 

20  And  thou  holdest  me  off  with  many  delayes,  vsing  I  knowe  not 
what  obseruations,  thinking  thereby  to  make  me  a  friend  at  the  last, 
that  shall  laste :  I  prayse  thy  good  meaning,  but  I  mislyke  thy 
rigour. 

Me,  thou  shalt  vse  in  what  thou  wilt,  and  doe  that  with  a  slender 
25  twist,  that  none  can  doe  with  a  tough  wyth.     As  for  my  being  with 
Camilla,  good  Euphues,  rubbe  there  no  more,  least  I  winch,  for  deny 
I  wil  not  that  I  am  wroung  on  the  withers. 

This  one  thing  touching  my  selfe  I  saye,  and  before  him  that 

seeth  all  things  I  sweare,  that  heereafter  I  wil  neither  dissemble  to 

30  delude  thee,  nor  pick  quarrells  to  fall  out  with  thee,  thou  shalt  finde 

me  constat  to  one,  faithlesse  to  none,  in  prayer  deuout,  in  maners 

reformed,  in  lyfe  chast,  in  words  modest :  not  framing  my  fancie  to 

the  humour  of  loue,  but  my  deedes  to  the  rule  of  zeale :  And  such 

a  man  as  heere-tofore  merilye  thou  saidest  I  was,  but  now  truly  thou 

35  shalt  see  I  am,  and  as  I  know  thou  art. 

Then  Euphues  appoint  the  place   where   we   maye   meete,  and 

5  but  by  these]  and  by  this  E  rest  9-10  broken  by  E  rest  13  can 

twice  M  15  did]  doth  E  rest  18  skilleth  E  rest  21  the  om.  A  rest 

22  but  om,  E  rest  26  wince  1623  27  am  wrong  AB  :  haue  wroong  E  : 

haue  wrung  F  rest      weathers  E        29  to]  nor  E  rest        34  man]  one  E  rest 


15*  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

reconcile  the  mindes,  which  I  confesse  by  mine  owne  follies  were 
seuered.  And  if  euer  after  this,  I  shall  seeme  iealous  ouer  thee,  or 
blynded  towards  my  selfe,  vse  me  as  I  deserue,  shamefully. 

Thus  attending  thy  speedy  aunswere,  for  that  delayes  are  perillous, 
especially  as  my  case  now  standeth.     I  ende  thine  euer  to  vse  as  5 

thine  owne. 

Philautus. 

TJ*  Vphues  seeing   such   speedye   retourne  of  an  other  aunswere, 
"^     thought  Philautus  to  be  very  sharp  set,  for  to  recouer  him, 
and  weighing  with  himselfe,  that  often  in  manages,  ther  haue  fallen  10 
out  braules,  wher  the  chiefest  loue  should  be,  and  yet  againe  recon 
ciliations,  that  none  ought  at  any  time  so  to  loue,  that  he  should 
finde  in  his  heart,  at    any  time  to  hate :    Furthermore,  casting  in 
his  minde  the  good  he  might  doe  to  Philautus  by  his  friendship, 
and  the  mischiefe  that  might  ensue  by  his  fellowes  follye,  aunswered  *5 
him  thus  agayne  speedely,  aswell  to  preuent  the  course  hee  might 
otherwise  take,  as  also  to  prescribe  what  way  he  should  take. 

Euphues  to  his  friend, 
Philautus. 

1V[  Ettells  Philautus  haue  no  prickells,  yet  they  sting,  and  wordes  20 

haue  no  points,  yet  they  pearce :  though  out-wardlye  thou 
protest  great  amendement,  yet  often-times  the  softnesse  of  Wooll, 
which  the  Seres  sende  sticketh  so  fast  to  the  skinne,  that  when  one 
looketh  it  shold  keepe  him  warme,  it  fetcheth  bloud,  and  thy  smooth 
talke,  thy  sweete  promises,  may  when  I  shal  thinke  to  haue  them  25 
perfourmed  to  delight  me,  be  a  corrosiue  to  destroy  me. 

But  I  wil  not  cast  beyonde  the  Moone,  for  that  in  all  things 
I  know  there  must  be  a  meane. 

Thou  swearest  nowe  that  thy  lyfe  shall  be  leade  by  my  lyne,  that 
thou  wilt  giue  no  cause  of  offence,  by  thy  disorders,  nor  take  anye  30 
by  my  good  meaning,  which  if  it  bee  so,  I  am  as  willyng  to  bee  thy 
friend,  as  I  am  to  be  mine  owne. 

But  this  take  for  a  warning,  if  euer  thou  iarre,  when  thou  shouldest 
iest,  or  follow  thine  owne  will,  when  thou  art  to  heare  my  counsayle, 
then  will  I  depart  from  thee,  and  so  display  thee,  as  none  that  is  35 
wise  shall  trust  thee,  nor  any  that  is  honest  shall  lyue  with  thee. 

6  thine]  his  GE  rest  13  in1  om.  H  rest  20  prickells]  pricks  E  rest 

21  thou]  they  E  rest  26  corasiue  E  rest  27  wil]  wll  M          31  my  om. 

E  rest  34  counsayle]  counsels  H  rest  36  or  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  153 

I   now  am  resolued  by  thy  letter,  of  that  which  I  was  almost 
perswaded  off,  by  mine  owne  coniecture,  touching  Camilla. 

Why  Philautus  art  thou  so  mad  without  acquaintaunce  of  thy  part, 
or  familiaritie  of  hirs,  to  attempt  a  thing  which  will  not  onely  be 
5  a  disgrace  to  thee,  but  also  a  discredite  to  hir  ?  Thinkest  thou  thy 
selfe  either  worthy  to  wooe  hir,  or  she  willyng  to  wedde  thee  ?  either 
thou  able  to  frame  thy  tale  to  hir  content,  or  shee  ready  to  giue  eare 
to  thy  conclusions  ? 

No,  no  Philautus,  thou  art  to  young  to  wooe  in  England,  though 

10  olde  inough  to  winne  in  Italy,  for  heere  they  measure  more  the  man 

by  the  qualyties  of  his  minde,  then  the  proportion  of  his  body. 

They  are  too  experte  in  loue,  hauing  learned  in  this  time  of  their 

long  peace,  euery  wrinckle  that  is  to  be  scene  or  imagined. 

It  is  neither  an  ill  tale  wel  tolde,  nor  a  good  history  made  better, 
15  neither  inuention  of  new  fables,  nor  the  reciting  of  olde,  that  can 
eyther  allure  in  them  an  appetite  to  loue,  or  almost  an  attention  to 
heare. 

It  fareth  not  with  them  as  it  doth  with  those  in  Italy,  who  preferre 

a  sharpe  wit,  before  sound  wisdome,  or  a  proper  man  before  a  perfect 

20  minde  :  they  lyue  not  by  shaddowes,  nor  feede  of  the  ayre,  nor  luste 

after  winde.     Their  loue  is  not  tyed  to  Art  but  reason,  not  to  the 

precepts  of  Quid,  but  to  the  perswasions  of  honestie. 

But  I  cannot  but  meruayle  at  thy  audacitie,  that  thou  diddest 
once  dare  to  moue  hir  to  loue,  whom  I  alwayes  feared  to  sollicite 
25  in  questioning,  aswel  doubting  to  be  grauelled  by  hir  quicke  and 
readye  witte,  as  to  bee  confuted,  by  hir  graue  and  wyse  aunsweres. 

But  thou  wilt  saye,  she  was  of  no  great  birth,  of  meaner  parentage 
then  thy  selfe.     I  but  Philautus  they  be  most  noble  who  are  com 
mended  more  for  their  perfection,  then  their  petegree,  and  let  this 
30  suffice  thee  that  hir  honour  consisted  in  vertue,  bewtie,  witte,  not 
bloode,  auncestors,  antiquitie.     But  more  of  this  at  our  next  meeting, 
where  I  thinke  I  shal  bee  merry  to  heere  the  discourse  of  thy  mad- 
nesse,    for  I  imagine  to  my   selfe   that   shee   handled   thee  verye 
hardely,  considering  both  the  place  shee  serued  in,  and  the  person 
35  that  serued  hir.     And  sure  I  am  shee  did  not  hang  for  thy  mowing. 
A  Phoenix  is  no  foode  for  Philautus,  that  dayntie  toothe  of  thine 
must  bee  pulled  out,  els  wilt  thou  surfette  with  desire,  and  that 

I  thy]  the  B            Letters  E  rest                4  or]  and  E  rest               11  his1]  the 

GE  rest                 13  to  be  om.  GE  rest  16  to1]  in  E  rest            attention] 

intention  GE  rest                21  to1]  by  E  rest  25  questioning  M                29 

pedigree  E-Hi6$(>:  pedegree  1617-31  37  surfecte  M 


i54  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Eagles   eye  pecked  out,  els  wilt  bee  daseled   with  delyght.      My 
counsaile  must  rule  thy  conceipte,  least  thou  confounde  vs  both. 

I  will  this  euening  come  to  thy  lodging,  where  wee  will  conferre. 
And  till  then,  I  commende  mee  to  thee. 

Thine  euer  to  vse,  if  5 

thou  be  thine  owne. 
Euphues. 

HPHis   letter  was   so  thankefully  receiued  of  Philautus,  that   he 
"*•      almost  ranne  beyonde  himselfe  for  ioye,  preparing  all  thinges 
necessary  for  the  entertainement  of  his  friende,  who  at  the  houre  10 
appointed  fayled  not. 

Many  embracings  there  were,  much  straunge  curtesie,  many  pretie 
glaunces,  being  almost  for  the  time  but  straungers  bicause  of  their 
long  absence. 

But  growing  to  questioning  one  with  another,   they  fell  to  the  15 
whole  discourse  of  Philautus  loue,  who  left  out  nothing  that  before 
I  put  in,  which  I  must  omitte,  least  I  set  before  you,  Colewortes 
twise  sodden,  whiche  will  both  offende  your  eares  which  I  seeke  to 
delight  and  trouble  my  hande  which  I  couet  to  ease. 

But  this  I  am  sure  that  Euphues  conclusion  was  this,  betweene  20 . 
waking  and  winking,  that  our  English  Ladies  and  Gentlewomen 
were  so  cunning  in  loue,  that  the  labour  were  more  easie  in  Italie 
to  wed  one  and  burie  hir,  then  heere  to  wooe  one  and  marrie  hir. 
And  thus  they  with  long  talking  waxed  wearie,  wher  I  leaue  them, 
not  willing  to  talke  any  longer,  but  to  sleepe  their  fills  till  morning.  25 

Now  Gentlewomen  I  appeale  in  this  controuersie  to  your  con 
sciences,  whether  there  be  in  you  an  art  to  loue,  as  Euphues 
thinketh,  or  whether  it  breede  in  you  as  it  doth  in  men  :  by  sight,  if 
one  bee  bewtifull,  by  hearing,  if  one  be  wittie,  by  desertes  if  one  be 
curteous,  by  desire,  if  one  be  vertuous,  which  I  woulde  not  knowe,  30 
to  this  intent  that  I  might  bee  instructed  howe  to  winne  any  of  you, 
but  to  the  ende  I  might  wonder  at  you  all  :  For  if  there  be  in  loue 
an  arte,  then  doe  I  not  meruaile  to  see  men  that  euerie  way  are  to 
bee  beloued,  so  oftentimes  to  be  reiected.  But  so  secreate  is  this 
matter,  that  perteyning  nothing  to  our  sex,  I  will  not  farther  enquire  35 
of  it,  least  happily  in  gessing  what  art  woemen  vse  in  loue,  I  should 

i  picked  A  rest        wilt]  wil  it  A  rest  13  biause  B  15  questoning  M 

23  one3  om.  E  rest  27  there  be]  it  breede  E  rest  35  that  om.  A  rest 

36  happely  AB  :  haply  1630-36 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  155 

minister  an  art  they  neuer  before  knewe :  And  so  in  thinking  to 
bewray  the  bayte  that  hath  caught  one,  I  giue  them  a  nette  to 
drawe  many,  putting  a  sworde  into  the  hande,  where  there  is  but 
a  sheath,  teaching  them  to  strike,  that  put  vs  to  our  tryings  by 
5  warding,  whiche  woulde  double  our  perrill,  who  without  art  cannot 
allure  them,  and  encrease  their  tyrany,  who  with-out  they  torment 
will  come  to  no  parley. 

But  this  I  admonish  you,  that  as  your  owne  bewties  make  you 
not  couetous  of  your  almes  towardes  true  louers,  so  other  mens 

10  flatterie  make  you  not  prodigall  of  your  honours  towardes  dis 
semblers.  Let  not  them  that  speake  fairest  be  beleeued  soonest, 
for  true  loue  lacketh  a  tongue,  and  is  tryed  by  the  eyes,  whiche  in 
a  hearte  that  meaneth  well,  are  as  farre  from  wanton  glaunces,  as  the 
minde  is  from  idle  thoughts. 

15  And  this  art  I  will  giue  you,  which  we  men  doe  commonly 
practise,  if  you  beholde  any  one  that  either  your  curtesie  hath 
allured,  or  your  beautie,  or  both,  triumph  not  ouer  him,  but  the 
more  earnest  you  see  him,  the  more  redie  be  to  followe  him,  &  when 
he  thinketh  himselfe  neerest,  let  him  be  farthest  off:  Then  if  he 

20  take  that  with  patience,  assure  your  selfe  he  cannot  be  faithlesse. 

He  that  Angleth  plucketh  the  bayte  away  when  he  is  neere  a  byte, 
to  the  ende  the  fish  may  be  more  eager  to  swallowe  the  hooke,  birds 
are  trayned  with  a  sweet  call,  but  caught  with  a  broade  nette  :  and 
louers  come  with  fayre  lookes,  but  are  entangled  with  disdainfull 

25  eyes. 

The  Spaniel  that  fawneth  when  he  is  beaten,  will  neuer  forsake  his 
maister,  the  man  that  doteth  when  he  is  disdained,  will  neuer  forgoe 
his  mistres. 

But  too  much  of  this  string  which  sowndeth  too  much  out  of 

30  square,  and  returne  we  to  Euphues  and  Philautus. 

The  next  morning  when  they  were  rysen  they  went  into  a  gallerie, 
where  Euphues,  who  perceiued  Philautus  grieuously  perplexed  for 
the  loue  of  Camilla^  beganne  thus  betweene  iest  and  earnest  to  talke 
with  him. 

35  "T^ffilautus  I  haue  well  nigh  all  this  night  beene  disputing  wfc  my 
selfe  of  thy  distresse,  yet  can  I  resolue  my  selfe  in  nothing 
that  either  may  content  mee,  or  quiet  thee. 

i  knewe  before  E  rest  2  one]  me  H  rest  10  flatteries  E  rest         12 

it  before  is  E  rest :  it  is  is  H  13  are]  is  E  rest  15  doe  om.  E  rest 

24  come  om.  E  rest  30  we  om.  .£-1623:    .  We  returne  1630-36 


156  EUPHUES   AND  HIS   ENGLAND 

What  mettall  art  thou  made  of  Philautus  that  thinkest  of 
nothing  but  loue,  and  art  rewarded  with  nothing  lesse  then  loue  : 
Lucilla  was  too  badde,  yet  diddest  thou  court  hir,  thy  sweete  heart 
now  in  Naples  is  none  of  the  best,  yet  diddest  thou  follow  hir, 
Camilla  exceeding  all,  where  thou  wast  to  haue  least  hope,  thou  hast  5 
woed  not  without  great  hazard  to  thy  person,  and  griefe  to  mine. 

I  haue  perused  hir  letters  which  in  my  simple  iudgment  are  so  far 
from  alowing  thy  suit,  that  they  seeme  to  loath  thy  seruice.  I  wil 
not  flatter  thee  in  thy  follies,  she  is  no  match  for  thee,  nor  thou  for 
hir,  the  one  wanting  liuing  to  mainteine  a  wife,  the  other  birth  to  10 
aduance  an  husbande.  Surius  whome  I  remember  thou  diddest 
name  in  thy  discourse,  I  remember  in  the  court  a  man  of  great  byrth 
and  noble  blood,  singuler  witte,  &  rare  personage,  if  he  go  about  to 
get  credite,  I  muse  what  hope  thou  couldest  conceiue  to  haue  a  good 
countenaunce.  Well  Philautus  to  set  downe  precepts  against  thy  15 
loue,  will  nothing  preuaile,  to  perswade  thee  to  go  forward,  were 
very  perillous,  for  I  know  in  the  one  loue  will  regarde  no  lawes,  and 
in  the  other  perswasions  can  purchase  no  libertie.  Thou  art  too 
heddie  to  enter  in  where  no  heed  can  helpe  one  out. 

Theseus  woulde  not  goe  into  the  Laborinth  without  a  threede  that  20 
might  shew  him  the  way  out,  neither  any  wise  man  enter  into  the 
crooked  corners  of  loue,  vnlesse  he  knew  by  what  meanes  he  might 
get  out.     Loue  which  should  continue  for  euer,  should  not  be  begon 
in  an  houre,  but  slowly  be  taken  in  hande,  and  by  length  of  time 
finished  :  resemblyng  Zeuxis,  that  wise  Painter,  who  in  things  that  25 
he  would  haue  last  long,  tooke  greatest  leasure. 

1  haue  not  forgotten  one   Mistres  Frauncis,    which  the    Ladye 
Flauia  gaue  thee  for  a  Uiolet,  and  by  thy  discription,  though  she 
be  not  equall  with  Camilla,  yet  is  she  fitter  for  Philautus.     If  thy 
humour  be  such  that  nothing  can  feede  it  but  loue,  cast  thy  minde  30 
on  hir,  conferre  the  impossibilytie  thou  hast  to  winne  Camilla,  with 
the  lykelyhoode  thou  mayst  haue  to  enioy  thy  Uiolet :  and  in  this 

I  will  endeauour  both  my  wit  and  my  good  will,  so  that  nothing  shall 
want  in  mee,  that  may  work  ease  in  thee.     Thy  violet  if  she  be 
honest,  is  worthy  of  thee,  beautiful  thou  sayst  she  is,  &  therfore  too  35 
worthy  :  Hoat  fire  is  not  onely  quenched  by  ye  cleere  Fountaine,  nor 
loue  onely  satisfied  by  the  faire  face.     Therefore  in  this  tell  me  thy 

2  are  #-1623  n  an]  her  F:   a  H  rest  15  preceps  M  18  no] 
to  B             19  heady  A  rest             25  Xeuxis  H  rest           33  I  will]  will  I  E  rest 
34  Thy]  The  E  rest           37  sanctified  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  157 

minde,  y*  either  we  may  proceede  in  that  matter,  or  seeke  a  newe 
medicine.     Philautus  thus  replyed. 

my  good  Euphues,  I  haue  neither  the  power  to  forsake  mine 
owne  Camilla,  nor  the  heart  to  deny  thy  counsaile,  it  is  easie 
5  to  fall  into  a  Nette,  but  hard  to  get  out.     Notwithstanding  I  will  goe 
against  the  haire  in  all  things,  so  I  may  please  thee  in  anye  thing, 

0  my  Camilla.     With  that  Euphues  stayed  him  saying. 

HE  that  hath  sore  eyes  must  not  behold  the  candle,  nor  he  that 
would  leaue  his  Loue,  fall  to  the  remembring  of  his  Lady, 
10  ye  one  causeth  the  eye  to  smart,  the  other  the  heart  to  bleede,  wel 
quoth  Philautus,  I  am  content  to  haue  the  wounde  searched,  yet 
vnwilling  to  haue  it  cured,  but  sithens  that  sicke  men  are  not  to 
prescribe  diets  but  to  keepe  them,  I  am  redie  to  take  potions,  and 
if  welth  serue  to  paye  thee  for  them,  yet  one  thing  maketh  to  feare, 
15  that  in  running  after  two  Hares,  I  catch  neither. 

And  certeinelye  quoth  Euphues,  I  knowe  manye  good  Hunters, 
that  take  more  delyght  to  haue  the  Hare  on  foote,  and  neuer  catch 
it,  then  to  haue  no  crye  and  yet  kill  in  the  Fourme  :  where-by 

1  gesse,  there  commeth  greater  delyght  in  the  hunting,  then  in  the 
ao  eating.     It  may  be  sayd  Philautus,  but  I  were  then  verye  vnfit  for 

such  pastimes,  for  what  sporte  soeuer  I  haue  all  the  day,  I  loue  to 
haue  the  game  in  my  dish  at  night. 

And  trulye  aunswered  Euphues,  you  are  worse  made  for  a  hound 
then  a  hunter,  for  you  marre  your  sent  with  carren,  before  you  start 

35  your  game,  which  maketh  you  hunt  oftentimes  counter,  wher-as  if 
you  had  kept  it  pure,  you  might  ere  this  time  haue  tourned  the 
Hare  you  winded,  and  caught  the  game  you  coursed.  Why  then 
I  perceiue  quoth  Philautus,  that  to  talke  with  Gentlewomen,  touching 
the  discourses  of  loue,  to  eate  with  them,  to  conferre  with  them,  to 

30  laugh  with  them,  is  as  great  pleasure  as  to  enioye  them,  to  the 
which  thou  mayst  by  some  fallacie  driue  me,  but  neuer  perswade 
me  :  For  then  were  it  as  pleasaunt  to  behold  fruit,  as  to  eate  them, 
or  to  see  fayre  bread,  as  to  tast  it.  Thou  errest  Philautus,  sayd 
Euphues,  if  thou  be  not  of  that  minde,  for  he  that  cometh  into  fine 

35  gardens,  is  as  much  recreated  to  smell  the  flower,  as  to  gather  it. 
And  many  we  see  more  delyghted  with  pictures,  then  desirous  to 

9  the  om.  E  rest  12  that]  the  E  rest  14  me  before  to2  A  rest          24 

carrion  1636  26  tourned]  tour-  M  35  flowers  GE  rest  it]  them 

Erest 


158  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

be  Painters  :  the  effect  of  lone  is  faith,  not  lust,  delightfull  confer 
ence,  not  detestable  concupiscence,  which  beginneth  with  folly  and 
endeth  with  repentaunce.  For  mine  owne  part  I  would  wish 
nothing,  if  againe  I  should  fall  into  that  vaine,  then  to  haue  the 
company  of  hir  in  common  conference  that  I  best  loued,  to  heare  5 
hir  sober  talke,  hir  wise  aunsweres,  to  behold  hir  sharpe  capacitie, 
and  to  bee  perswaded  of  hir  constancie :  &  in  these  things  do  we 
only  differ  from  brute  beasts,  who  haue  no  pleasure,  but  in  sensuall 
appetite.  You  preach  Heresie,  quoth  Philautus^  and  besides  so 
repugnant  to  the  text  you  haue  taken,  that  I  am  more  ready  to  pull  10 
thee  out  of  thy  Pulpit,  than  to  beleeue  thy  gloses. 

I  loue  the  company  of  women  well,  yet  to  haue  them  in  lawfull 
Matrimony,  I  lyke  much  better,  if  thy  reasons  should  goe  as  currant, 
then  were  Loue  no  torment,  for  hardlye  doeth  it  fall  out  with  him, 
that  is  denyed  the  sighte  and  talke  of  his  Ladye.  15 

Hungry  stomackes  are  not  to  be  fed  with  sayings  against  sur- 
fettings,  nor  thirst  to  be  quenched  with  sentences  against  drunken- 
nesse.  To  loue  women  &  neuer  enioy  them,  is  as  much  as  to  loue 
wine,  &  neuer  tast  it,  or  to  be  delighted  with  faire  apparel,  &  neuer 
weare  it.  An  idle  loue  is  that,  and  fit  for  him  that  hath  nothing  but  20 
eares,  that  is  satisfied  to  heare  hir  speak,  not  desirous  to  haue  him- 
selfe  speede.  Why  then  Euphues^  to  haue  the  picture  of  his  Lady, 
is  as  much,  as  to  enjoy  hir  presence,  and  to  reade  hir  letters  of  as 
great  force  as  to  heare  hir  aunsweres  :  which  if  it  be,  my  suite  in 
loue  should  be  as  much  to  the  painter  to  draw  hir  with  an  amyable  25 
face,  as  to  my  Lady  to  write  an  amorous  letter,  both  which,  with 
little  suite  being  obteined,  I  may  lyue  with  loue,  and  neuer  wet  my 
foot,  nor  breake  my  sleepes,  nor  wast  my  money,  nor  torment  my 
minde. 

But  this  worketh  as  much  delyght  in  the  minde  of  a  louer,  as  the  30 
Apples  that  hang  at  Tantalus  nose,  or  the  Riuer  that  runneth  close 
by  his  chinne. 

And  in  one  word,  it  would  doe  me  no  more  good,  to  see  my 
Lady  and  not  embrace  hir,  in  the  heate  of  my  desire,  then  to  see 
fire,  and  not  warme  me  in  the  extremitie  of  my  colde.  35 

No,  no  Euphues,  thou  makest  Loue  nothing  but  a  continual 
wooing,  if  thou  barre  it  of  the  effect,  and  then  is  it  infinite,  or  if  thou 

6  \.Qom.Erest  n  glosses  F  rest  20  An]  And  AE  rest  21 

satified  M  1623  25  to1]  as  GE  26  to1  om.  H rest  34  to  before 

embrace  A  rest  37  is  it]  it  is  E  rest        or  om.  BE  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  159 

allow  it,  and  yet  forbid  it,  a  perpetuall  warfare,  and  then  is  it 
intollerable. 

From  this  opinion  no  man  shall  with-drawe  mee,  that  the  ende  of 
fishing  is  catching,  not  anglying :  of  birding,  taking,  not  whistlyng : 
5  of  loue,  wedding,  not  wooing.  Other- wise  it  is  no  better  then 
hanging. 

Euphues  smilyng  to  see  Philautus  so  earnest,  vrged  him  againe,  in 
this  manner. 

WHy  Philau.tuS)  what   harme  were  it  in   loue,    if  the  heart 
should  yeelde  his  right  to  the  eye,  or  the  fancie  his  force 
to  the  eare.     I  haue  read  of  many,  &  some  I  know,  betweene  whom 
there  was  as  feruent  affection  as  might  be,  that  neuer  desired  any 
thing,  but  sweete  talke,  and  continuall  company  at  bankets,  at  playes, 
and  other  assemblyes,  as  Phrigius  and  Pieria,  whose  constant  faith 
15  was  such,  that  there  was  neuer  word  nor  thought  of  any  vncleannesse. 
Pigmalion  loued  his  luory  Image,  being  enamoured  onely  by  the 
sight,  &  why  should  not  the  chast  loue  of  others,  be  builded  rather 
in  agreeing  in  heuenly  meditations,  then  temporall  actions.     Beleeue 
me  Philautus,  if  thou  knewest  what  it  were  to  loue,  thou  wouldest 
20  bee  as  farre  from  the  opinion  thou  boldest,  as  I  am. 

Philautus  thinking  no  greater  absurditie  to  be  held  in  the  world 
then  this,  replyed  before  the  other  coulde  ende,  as  followeth. 

IN  deede  Euphues,  if  the  King  would  resigne  his  right  to  his 
Legate,  then  were  it  not  amisse  for  the  heart  to  yeelde  to  the 
25  eyes.     Thou  knowest  Euphues  that  the  eye  is  the  messenger  of  loue, 
not  the  Master,  that  the  eare  is  the  caryer  of  newes,  the  hearte  the 
disgester.     Besides  this  suppose  one  haue  neither  eares  to  heare  his 
Ladie  speake,  nor  eyes  to  see  hir  beautie,  shall  he  not  therefore  be 
subiect  to  the  impression  of  loue.     If  thou   aunswere  no,   I  can 
30  alledge  diuers  both  deafe  and  blinde  that  haue  beene  wounded,  if 
thou  graunt  it,  then  confesse  the  heart  must  haue  his  hope,  which  is 
neither  seeing  nor  hearing,  and  what  is  the  thirde  ? 

Touching  Phrigius  &  Pieria,  thinke  them  both  fooles  in  this,  for 

he  that  keepeth  a  Hen  in  his  house  to  cackle  and  not  lay,  or  a  Cocke 

35  to  crowe  and  not  to  treade,  is  not  vnlike  vnto  him  that  hauing  sowen 

his  wheat  neuer  reapeth  it,  or  reaping  it  neuer  threasheth  it,  taking 

3  should  E  rest  9  it  om.  E  rest  10  the3]  his  E  rest  12  desired] 

desire  E  26  Master,  ...  is  the]  Maister  :  the  eare  a  E  rest        the 5]  a  E  rest 

29  impressions  E  rest  33  Pieria  E  rest :  Peria  M-G 


160  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

more  pleasure  to  see  faire  corne,  then  to  eate  fine  bread  :  Pigmalion 
maketh  against  this,  for  Uenus  seeing  him  so  earnestly  to  loue,  &  so 
effectually  to  pray,  graunted  him  his  request,  which  had  he  not  by 
importunate  suit  obtained,  I  doubt  not  but  he  would  rather  haue 
hewed  hir  in  peeces  then  honoured  hir  w*  passions,  &  set  hir  vp  5 
in  some  Temple  for  an  image,  not  kept  hir  in  his  house  for  a  wife. 
He  that  desireth  onely  to  talke  and  viewe  without  any  farther  suit,  is 
not  farre  different  from  him,  that  liketh  to  see  a  paynted  rose  better 
then  to  smell  to  a  perfect  Uiolet,  or  to  heare  a  birde  singe  in  a  bush, 
rather  then  to  haue  hir  at  home  in  his  owne  cage.  10 

This  will  I  followe,  that  to  pleade  for  loue  and  request  nothing 
but  lookes,  and  to  deserue  workes,  and  Hue  only  by  words,  is  as  one 
should  plowe  his  ground  &  neuer  sowe  it,  grinde  his  coulours  and 
neuer  paint,  saddle  his  horse  and  neuer  ryde. 

As  they  were  thus  comuning  there  came  from  the  Ladie  Flauia  15 
a  Gentleman  who  inuited  them  both  that  night  to  supper,  which  they 
with  humble  thankes  giuen  promised  to  doe  so,  and  till  supper  time 
I  leaue  them  debating  their  question. 

Nowe  Gentlewomen  in  this  matter  I  woulde  I  knewe  your  mindes, 
and  yet  I   can  somewhat  gesse  at  your  meaninges,  if  any  of  you  20 
shoulde  loue  a  Gentleman  of  such  perfection  as  you  can  wish,  woulde 
it  content  you  onely  to  heare  him,,  to  see  him  daunce,  to  marke  his 
personage,  to  delight  in  his  witte,  to  wonder  at  all  his  qualities,  and 
desire  no  other  solace  ?     If  you  like  to  heare  his  pleasant  voyce  to 
sing,  his  fine  fingers  to  play,  his  proper  personage  to  vndertake  any  25 
exployt,  woulde  you  couet  no  more  of  your  loue  ?     As  good  it  were 
to  be  silent  and  thinke  no,  as  to  blushe  and  say  I. 

1  must  needes  conclude  with  Philautus,  though  I  shoulde  cauill 
with  Euphues,  that  the  ende  of  loue  is  the  full  fruition  of  the  partie 
beloued,  at  all  times  and  in  all  places.     For  it  cannot  followe  in  30 
reason,  that  bicause  the  sauce  is  good  which  shoulde  prouoke  myne 
appetite,  therefore  I  shoulde  for-sake  the   meate  for  which  it  was 
made.     Beleeue  me  the  qualities  of  the  minde,  the  bewtie  of  the 
bodie,  either  in  man  or  woman,  are  but  the  sauce  to  whette  our 
stomakes,  not  the  meate  to  fill  them.     For  they  that  Hue  by  the  vew  35 
of  beautie  stil  looke  very  leane,  and  they  that  feede  onely  vpon  vertue 

at  boorde,  will  goe  with  an  hungry  belly  to  bedde. 

2  him"!  them  E  10  to  om.  E  rest       cage]  trs.  in  M  with  first  line  of  next 
paragraph             17  so  om.  E  rest  23  all  om.  E  rest  27  for  you  before 
to '  E  rest             34  the  om.  BE  rest              35  the '  om.  BE  rest          view  A  rest 
37  an]  a  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  161 

But  I  will  not  craue  herein  your  resolute  aunswere,  bicause  be- 
tweene  them  it  was  not  determined,  but  euery  one  as  he  lyketh,  and 
then — ! 

Euphues  and  Philautus  being  nowe  againe  sent  for  to  the  Lady 
5  Flauia  hir  house,  they  came  presently,  where  they  founde  the  worthy 
Gentleman   Surius,  Camilla,    Mistres   Frauncis,   with    many   other 
Gentlemen  and  Gentlewomen. 

At  their  first  entrance  doing  their  duetie,  they  saluted  all  the  com- 
panic,  and  were  welcommed. 

10  The  Lady  Flauia  entertayned  them  both  very  louingly,  thanking 
Philautus  for  his  last  company,  saying  be  merry  Gentleman,  at  this 
time  of  the  yeare  a  Uiolette  is  better  then  a  Rose,  and  so  shee  arose 
and  went  hir  way,  leauing  Philautus  in  a  muse  at  hir  wordes,  who 
before  was  in  a  maze  at  Camillas  lookes.  Camilla  came  to  Euphues 

15  in  this  manner. 

I  am  sory  Euphues  that  we  haue  no  greene  Rushes,  considering 
you  haue  beene  so  great  a  straunger,  you  make  me  almost  to  thinke 
that  of  you  which  commoly  I  am  not  accustomed  to  iudge  of  any, 
that  either  you  thought  your  selfe  too  good,  or  our  cheere  too  badde, 

20  other  cause  of  absence  I  cannot. imagine,  vnlesse  seing  vs  very  idle, 
you  sought  meanes  to  be  well  imployed,  but  I  pray  you  hereafter  be 
bolde,  and  those  thinges  which  were  amisse  shall  be  redressed,  for 
we  will  haue  Quailes  to  amende  your  commons,  and  some  questions 
to  sharpen  your  wittes,  so  that  you  shall  neither  finde  faulte  with 

25  your  dyot  for  the  grosenesse,  nor  with  your  exercise  for  the  easinesse. 
As  for  your  fellowe  and  friencle  Philautus  we  are  bounde  to  him,  for 
he  would  oftentimes  see  vs,  but  seldome  eate  wfc  vs,  which  made  vs 
thinke  that  he  cared  more  for  our  company,  then  our  meat. 

Euphues  as  one  that  knewe  his  good,  aunswered  hir  in  this  wise. 

30  Fayre  Ladye,  it  were  vnseemely  to  strewe  grene  rushes  for  his 
comming,  whose  companie  is  not  worth  a  strawe,  or  to  accompt  him 
a  straunger  whose  boldenesse  hath  bin  straunge  to  all  those  that 
knew  him  to  be  a  straunger. 

The  smal  abilitie  in  me  to  requite,  compared  w*  the  great  cheere 

35  I  receiued,  might  happlie  make  me  refraine  which  is  contrary  to  your 
coniecture  :  Neither  was  I  euer  so  busied  in  any  weightie  affaires, 
whiche  I  accompted  not  as  lost  time  in  respect  of  the  exercise 

2-3  lyketh  and  then,  all  previous  eds.  8  the]  his  E  rest  11-2  Gentleman 
at  ...  yeare,  a  MB  19  OUT]  your  E  rest  25  the2  om.  BE  rest  35  happely 
B  :  happily  .£-1623  :  haply  1630-36  36  Neither  GE  rest :  Whether  MAB 

BOND   II  M 


162  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

I  alwayes  founde  in  your  company,  whiche  maketh  me  thinke  that 
your  latter  obiection  proceeded  rather  to  conuince  mee  for  a  treuant, 
then  to  manyfest  a  trueth. 

As  for  the  Quailes  you  promise  me,  I  can  be  content  with  beefe, 
and  for  the  questions  they  must  be  easie,  els  shall  I  not  answere  the,  5 
for  my  wit  will  shew  with  what  grosse  diot  I  haue  beene  brought  vp, 
so  that  conferring  my  rude   replyes  with  my  base  birth,  you  will 
thinke  that  meane  cheare  will  serue  me,  and  resonable  questions 
deceiue  me,,  so  that  I  shall  neither  finde  fault  for  my  repast,  nor 
fauour  for  my  reasons.     Philautus  in  deede  taketh  as  much  delight  10 
in  good  companie  as  in  good  cates,  who  shall  answere  for  him-selfe, 
with  that  Philautus  saide. 

Truely  Camilla  where  I  thinke  my  selfe  welcome  I  loue  to  bee 
bolde,  and  when  my  stomake  is  filled  I  care  for  no  meat,  so  that 
I  hope  you  will  not  blame  if  I  came  often  and  eate  little.  1 5 

I  doe  not  blame  you  by  my  faith  quoth  Camilla,  you  mistake  mee, 
for  the  oftener  you  come  the  better  welcome,  and  the  lesse  you  eate, 
the  more  is  saued. 

Much  talke  passed  which  being  onely  as  it  were  a  repetition  of 
former  thinges,  I  omitte  as  superfluous,  but  this  I  must  note,  that  20 
Camilla  earnestly  desired  Surius  to  be  acquainted  with  Euphties,  who 
very  willingly  accomplished  hir  request,  desiring  Euphues  for  the 
good  report  he  had  harde  of  him,  that  he  woulde  be  as  bolde  with 
him,  as  with  any  one  in  Englande,  Euphues  humbly  shewing  his 
duetie,  promised  also  as  occasion  should  serue,  to  trye  him.  25 

It  now  grew  toward  Supper  time,  when  the  table  being  couered, 
and  the  meate  serued  in,  Ladye  Flauia  placed  Surius  ouer  against 
Camilla  and  Philautus  next  Mistres  Frauncis,  she  tooke  Euphues 
and  the  rest,  &  placed  the  in  such  order,  as  she  thought  best.  What 
cheere  they  had  I  know  not,  what  talke  they  vsed,  I  heard  not :  but  30 
Supper  being  ended,  they  sate  still,  the  Lady  Flauia  speaking  as 
followeth. 

/^Entlemen  and   Gentlewomen   these  Lenten  Euenings  be  long, 
and  a  shame  it  were  to  goe  to  bedde  :   colde  they  are,  and 
therefore  follye  it  were  to  walke  abroad  :  to  play  at  Gardes  is  common,  35 
at  Chestes  tedious,   at    Dice  vnseemely,   with   Christmasse  games, 
vntimely.    In  my  opinion  therefore,  to  passe  awaye  these  long  nights, 

15  me,  before  if  A  rest  come  A  rest  17  the3  om.  E  23  heard 

A  rest  36  Chesse  F  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  163 

I  would  haue  some  pastime  that  might  be  pleasaunt,  but  not  vn- 
profitable,  rare,  but  not  without  reasoning  :  so  shall  we  all  accompt 
the  Euening  well  spent,  be  it  neuer  so  long,  which  other-wise  would 
be  tedious,  were  it  neuer  so  short. 

5  Surius  the  best  in  the  companye,  and  therefore  best  worthy  to 
aunswere,  and  the  wisest,  and  therefore  best  able,  replyed  in  this 
manner. 

Ood  Madame,  you  haue  preueted  my  request  with  your  owne,  for 
as  the  case  now  standeth,  there  can  be  nothing  either  more 

10  agreeable  to  my  humour,  or  these  Gentlewomens  desires,  then  to  vse 
some  discourse,  aswell  to  renue  olde  traditions,  which  haue  bene 
heertofore  vsed,  as  to  encrease  friendship,  which  hath  bene  by  the 
meanes  of  certeine  odde  persons  defaced.  Euery  one  gaue  his 
consent  with  Surius,  yeelding  the  choyce  of  that  nights  pastime,  to 

15  the  discretion  of  the  Ladie  Flauia  who  thus  proposed  hir  minde. 

Your  taske  Surius  shall  be  to  dispute  wyth  Camilla,  and  chose 
your  owne  argumente,  Philautus  shall  argue  with  mistresse  Fraunris, 
Martius  wyth  my  selfe.  And  all  hauing  finished  their  discourses, 
Euphues  shal  be  as  iudge,  who  hath  done  best,  and  whatsoeuer  he 

20  shal  allot  eyther  for  reward,  to  the  worthiest,  or  for  penance  to  the 
worst,  shal  be  presently  accomplished.  This  liked  them  all  exceed 
ingly.  And  thus  Surius  with  a  good  greace,  and  pleasaunt  speache, 
beganne  to  enter  the  listes  with  Camilla. 


Ladie,  you  knowe  I  flatter  not,  I  haue  reade  that  the  sting 
25          of  an  Aspe  were  incurable,  had  not  nature  giuen  them  dimme 
eyes,  &  the  beautie  of  a  woman  no  lesse  infectious,  had  not  nature 
bestowed  vpon  them  gentle  hearts,  which  maketh  me  ground  my 
reason  vpon  this  comon  place,  that  beautiful  women  are  euer  merci- 
full,  if  mercifull,  vertuous,  if  vertuous  constant,  if  constant,  though 
30  no  more  than  goddesses,  yet  no  lesse  than  Saintes,  all  these  things 
graunted,  I  vrge  my  question  without  condition. 

If  Camilla,  one  wounded  with  your  beautie  (for  vnder  that  name 

I  comprehende  all  other  vertues)  shold  sue  to  open  his  affection, 

serue  to  trie  it,  and  driue  you  to  so  narrow  a  point,  that  were  you 

35  neuer  so  incredulous,  he  should  proue  it,  yea  so  farre  to  be  from 

suspition  of  deceite,  that  you  would  confesse  he  were  cleare  from 

10  humour]  honor  E  rest        then  om.  M-G  20  to2]  vnto  E  rest  25 

vncurable  E  rest  26  of  women  //  rest  27  on  F  rest 

M  2 


1 64  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

distrust,  what  aunsweare  woulde  you  make,  if  you  gaue  your  consent, 
or  what  excuse  if  you  deny  hys  curtesie. 

Camilla  who  desired  nothing  more  than  to  be  questioning  with 
Sitrius,  with  a  modest  countenaunce,  yet  somewhat  bashefull  (which 
added  more  commendation  to  hir  speache  then  disgrace)  replyed  in  5 
thys  manner. 

'T'  Hough  ther  be  no  cause  noble  gentleman  to  suspect  an  iniurie 
•*•     where  a  good  turne  hath  bene  receyued,  yet  is  it  wisdome  to  be 
carefull,  what  aunswere  bee  made,  where  the  question  is  difficult. 

I  haue  hearde  that  the  Torteise  in  India  when  the  Sunne  shineth,  10 
swimmeth  aboue  the  water  wyth  hyr  back,  and  being  delighted  with 
the  faire  weather,  forgetteth  hir  selfe  vntill  the  heate  of  the  Sunne  so 
harden  hir  shell,  that  she  cannot  sincke  when  she  woulde,  whereby 
she  is  caught.  And  so  maye  it  fare  with  me,  that  in  this  good  com- 
panye,  displaying  my  minde,  hauing  more  regarde  to  my  delight  in  15 
talkyng,  then  to  the  eares  of  the  hearers,  I  forget  what  I  speake  and 
so  be  taken  in  some  thing,  I  shoulde  not  vtter,  whiche  happilye  the 
itchyng  eares  of  young  gentlemen  woulde  so  canuas,  that  when 
I  woulde  call  it  in,  I  cannot,  and  so  be  caughte  with  the  Torteise, 
when  I  would  not.  2° 

Therefore  if  any  thing  be  spoken  eyther  vnwares  or  vniustly,  I  am 
to  craue  pardon  for  both  :  hauyng  but  a  weake  memorie,  and  a  worse 
witte,  which  you  can  not  denye  me,  for  that  we  saye,  women  are  to 
be  borne  withall  if  they  offende  againste  theyr  wylles,  and  not  muche 
to  be  blamed,  if  they  trip  with  theyr  willes,  the  one  proceeding  of  25 
forgetfulnesse,  the  other,  of  their  natural  weakenesse,  but  to  the 
matter. 

IF  my  beautie  (whiche  God  knowes  how  simple  it  is)  shoulde 
entangle  anye  wyth  desyre,  then  shold  I  thus  thinke,  yfc  either 
he  were  enflamed  wfc  lust  rather  then  loue  (for  yfc  he  is  moued  by  my  30 
countenance  not  enquiring  of  my  conditions,)  or  els  that  I  gaue 
some  occasion  of  lightnesse,  bicause  he  gathereth  a  hope  to  speede, 
where  he  neuer  had  the  heart  to  speake.     But  if  at  the  last  I  should 
perceiue,  that  his  faith  were  tried  lyke  golde  in  the  fire,  that  his 
affection  proceeded  from  a  minde  to  please,  not  from  a  mouth  to  35 
delude,  then  would  I  either  aunswer  his  loue  with  lyking,  or  weane 

2  hys]  your  E  rest  3  who  desiring  E  8  it  is  E  10  Tortoise 

F  rest  17  I  would  G\   the  which  I  would  E  rest  19  Tortoise  F  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  165 

him  from  it  by  reason.  For  I  hope  sir  you  will  not  thinke  this,  but 
that  there  should  be  in  a  woman  aswell  a  tongue  to  deny,  as  in 
a  man  to  desire,  that  as  men  haue  reason  to  lyke  for  beautie,  where 
they  loue,  so  women  haue  wit  to  refuse  for  sundry  causes,  where  they 
5  loue  not. 

Other-wise   were   we    bounde    to    such    an    inconuenience,   that 

whosoeuer  serued  vs,  we  should  aunswere  his  suite,  when  in  euery 

respect  we  mislyke  his  conditions,  so  that  Nature  might  be  sayd  to 

frame  vs  for  others  humours  not  for  our  owne  'appetites.     Wherein 

30  to  some  we  should  be  thought  very  courteous,   but  to  the  most 

scarce  honest.     For  mine  owne  part  if  ther  be  any  thing  in  me  to  be 

lyked  of  any,  I  thinke  it  reason  to  bestow  on  such  a  one,  as  hath 

also  somewhat  to  content  me,  so  that  where  I  knowe  my  selfe  loued, 

and  doe  loue  againe,  I  woulde  vppon  iust  tryall  of  his  constancie, 

*5  take  him. 

Surius  with-out  any  stoppe  or  long  pause,  replyed  presently. 

TAdy  if  the  Torteyse  you  spake  off  in  India,  wer  as  cunning  in-' 
•*— '  swimming,  as  you  are  in  speaking,  hee  would  neither  feare  the 
heate  of  the  Sunne,  nor  the  ginne  of  the  Fisher.  But  that  excuse 

20  was  brought  in,  rather  to  shewe  what  you  could  say,  then  to  craue 
pardon,  for  that  you  haue  sayd.  But  to  your  aunswere. 

What  your  beautie  is,  I  will  not  heere  dispute,  least  either  your 
modest  eares  shoulde  glowe  to  heare  your  owne  prayses,  or  my 
smoth  tongue  trippe  in  being  curious  to  your  perfection,  so  that  what 

25  I  cannot  commende  sufficiently,  I  will  not  cease  continually  to 
meruaile  at.  You  wander  in  one  thing  out  of  the  way,  where  you 
say  that  many  are  enflamed  with  the  countenance,  not  enquiring  of 
the  conditions,  when  this  position  was  before  grounded,  that  there 
was  none  beautifull,  but  she  was  also  mercifull,  and  so  drawing  by 

30  the  face  of  hir  bewtie  all  other  morrall  vertues,  for  as  one  ring  being 
touched  with  the  Loadstone  draweth  another,  and  that  his  fellow,  til 
it  come  to  a  chaine,  so  a  Lady  endewed  with  bewtie,  pulleth  on 
curtesie,  curtesie  mercy,  and  one  vertue  linkes  it  selfe  to  another, 
vntill  there  be  a  rare  perfection. 

35  Besides  touching  your  owne  lightnesse,  you  must  not  imagine  that 
loue  breedeth  in  the  heart  of  man  by  your  lookes,  but  by  his  owne 

4  Euen  before  so  E  rest          9  appetite  E  rest  10  to  (bis]\  cf.  p.  84,  /.  27 

13  to  ...  me]  tontent  to  me  A         17  Tortoise  F  rest      speake  E  rest        21  our 
E  rest  30  face  so  all.     Qy.  /force  cf.  vol.  i. /.  265,  /.  32  ring]  thing 

G£-i6$i  :  linke  1636 


1 66  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

eyes,  neyther  by  your  wordes  when  you  speake  wittily,  but  by  his 
owne  eares,  which  conceiue  aptly.  So  that  were  you  dumbe  and 
coulde  not  speak,  or  blinde  and  coulde  not  see,  yet  shoulde  you  be 
beloued,  which  argueth  plainely,  that  the  eye  of  the  man  is  the 
arrow,  the  bewtie  of  the  woman  the  white,  which  shooteth  not,  but  5 
receiueth,  being  the  patient,  not  the  agent :  vppon  triall  you  confesse 
you  woulde  trust,  but  what  triall  you  require  you  conceale,  whiche 
maketh  me  suspect  that  Cither  you  woulde  haue  a  triall  without 
meane,  or  without  end,  either  not  to  bee  sustained  being  impossible, 
or  not  to  be  fynished  being  infinite.  Wherein  you  would  haue  one  10 
runne  in  a  circle,  where  there  is  no  way  out,  or  builde  in  the  ayre, 
where  there  is  no  meanes  howe. 

This  triall  Camilla  must  be  sifted  to  narrower  pointes,  least  in 
seeking  to  trie  your  louer  like  a  lenet,  you  tyre  him  like  a  lade. 

Then  you  require  this  libertie  (which  truely  I  can  not  denie  you)  15 
that  you  may  haue  the  choyce  as  well  to  refuse,  as  the  man  hath  to 
offer,  requiring  by  that  reason  some  quallities  in  the  person  you  would 
bestow  your  loue  on  :    yet  craftily  hyding  what  properties  eyther 
please  you  best,  or  like  woemen  well :   where-in  againe  you  moue 
a  doubt,  whether  personage,  or  welth,   or  witte,  or  all  are  to  be  20 
required  :    so  that  what  with  the  close  tryall  of  his  fayth,  and  the 
subtill  wishinge  of  his  quallities,  you  make  eyther  your  Louer  so  holy, 
that  for  fayth  hee  must  be  made  all  of  trueth,  or  so  exquisite  that  for 
shape  hee  must  be  framed  in  wax :  which  if  it  be  your  opinion,  the 
beautie  you  haue  will  be  withered  before  you  be  wedded,  and  your  25 
wooers  good  old  Gentlemen  before  they  be  speeders. 

Camilla  not  permitting  Surius  to  leape  ouer  the  hedge,  which  she 
set  for  to  keepe  him  in,  with  a  smiling  countenaunce  shaped  him 
this  aunswer. 

T  F  your  position  be  graunted,  that  where  beautie  is,  there  is  also  30 

vertue,  then  myght  you  adde  that  where  a  fayre  flower  is,  there 
is  also  a  sweete  sauour,  which  how  repugnant  it  is  to  our  common 
experience,  there  is  none  but  knoweth,  and  how  contrary  the  other 
is  to  trueth,  there  is  none  but  seeth.  Why  then  do  you  not  set 
downe  this  for  a  rule  which  is  as  agreeable  to  reason,  that  Rhodope  35 
beeing  beautifull  (if  a  good  complection  and  fayre  fauour  be  tearmed 
beautie)  was  also  vertuous  ?  that  Lais  excelling  was  also  honest  ?  that 

8  to  before  suspect  E  rest  13  narrow  E  rest  14  try  Eff-i6$i  :  tire  F 

35  Rodophe  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  167 

Phrine  surpassing  them  both  in  beautie,  was  also  curteous  ?  But  it 
is  a  reason  among  your  Philosophers,  that  the  disposition  of  the 
minde,  followeth  the  composition  of  the  body,  how  true  in  arguing 
it  maye  bee,  I  knowe  not,  how  false  in  tryall  it  is,  who  knoweth  not  ? 
5  Beautie,  though  it  bee  amiable,  worketh  many  things  eontfarye  to 
hir  fayre  shewe,  not  vnlyke  vnto  Syluer,  which  beeing  white,  draweth 
blacke  lynes,  or  resembling  the  tall  trees  in  Ida  which  allured  many 
to  rest  in  them  vnder  their  shadow,  and  then  infected  them  with 
their  sent. 

10  No  we  where-as  you  sette  downe,  that  loue  commeth  not  from  the 
eyes  of  the  woeman,  but  from  the  glaunces  of  the  man  (vnder 
correction  be  it  spoken)  it  is  as  farre  from  the  trueth,  as  the  head 
from  the  toe.  For  were  a  Lady-blinde,  in  what  can  she  be  beautifull? 
if  dumbe,  in  what  manifest  hir  witte  ?  when  as  the  eye  hath  euer 

1 5  bene  thought  the  Pearle  of  the  face,  and  the  tongue  the  Ambassadour 
of  the  heart?  If  ther  were  such  a  Ladie  in  this  company  Surius, 
that  should  wincke  with  both  eyes  when  you  would  haue  hir  see 
your  amorous  lookes,  or  be  no  blabbe  of  hir  tongue,  when  you  would 
haue  aunswere  of  your  questions,  I  can-not  thinke,  that  eyther  hir 

20  vertuous  conditions,  or  hir  white  and  read  complection  coulde  moue 
you  to  loue. 

Although  this  might  somwhat  procure  your  liking,  that  doing  what 
you  lyst  shee  will  not  see  it,  and  speaking  what  you  would,  she  will 
not  vtter  it,  two  notable  vertues  and  rare  in  our  sex,  patience  and 

25  silence. 

But  why  talke  I  about  Ladyes  that  haue  no  eies,  when  there  is  no 
manne  that  will  loue  them  if  hee  him-selfe  haue  eyes.  More  reason 
there  is  to  wooe  one  that  is  doumbe,  for  that  she  can-not  deny  your 
suite,  and  yet  hauing  eares  to  heare,  she  may  as  well  giue  an  answer 

30  with  a  signe,  as  a  sentence.     But  to  the  purpose. 

Loue  commeth  not  from  him  that  loueth,  but  from  the  partie 
loued,  els  must  hee  make  his  loue  vppon  no  cause,  and  then  it  is 
lust,  or  thinke  him-selfe  the  cause,  and  then  it  is  no  loue.  Then 
must  you  conclude  thus,  if  there  bee  not  in  woemen  the  occasion, 

35  they  are  fooles  to  trust  men  that  praise  them,  if  the  cause  bee  in 
them,  then  are  not  men  wise  to  arrogate  it  to  themselues. 

It  is  the  eye  of  the  women  that  is  made  of  Adamant,  the  heart 

2  amongst  E  rest           8  in  om.  E  rest           1 7  her  before  eyes  E  rest  would] 

should  F  rest           19  hir  before  answere  ABE  rest           to  BE  rest  20  con- 

dititions  M       red  B  rest          28  dumbe  A  rest          32  take  ABE  rest  37 
woman  E  rest 


1 68  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

of  the  man  that  is  framed  of  yron,  and  I  cannot  thinke  you  wil  say 
that  the  vertue  attractiue  is  in  the  yron  which  is  drawen  by  force, 
but  in  the  Adamant  that  searcheth  it  perforce. 

And  this  is  the  reason  that  many  men  haue  beene  entangled 
against  'their  wills  with  loue,  and  kept  in  it  with  their  wills.  5 

You  knowe  Surius  that  the  fire  is  in  the  flinte  that  is  striken,  not 
in  the  steele  that  striketh,  the  light  in  the  Sunne  that  lendeth,  not 
in  the  Moone.that  boroweth,  the  loue  in  the  woman  that  is  serued, 
not  in  the  man  that  sueth. 

The  similitude  you  brought  in  of  the  arrowe,  flewe  nothing  right  10 
to  beautie,  wherefore  I  must  shute  that  shafte  at  your  owne  brest. 
For  if  the  eye  of  man  be  the  arrow,  &  beautie  the  white  (a  faire  mark 
for  him  that  draweth  in  cupids  bow)  then  must  it  necessarily  ensue, 
that  the  archer  desireth  with  an  ayme  to  hitte  the  white,  not  the 
white  the  arrowe,  that  the  marke  allureth  the  archer,  not  the  shooter  1 5 
the  marke,  and  therfore  is    Venus  saide  in  one  eye   to  haue  two 
Apples,  which  is  comonly  applied  to  those  that  witch  with  the  eyes, 
not  to  those  that  wooe  with  their  eyes. 

Touching  tryall,  I  am  neither  so  foolish  to  desire  thinges  impos 
sible,  nor  so  frowarde  to  request  y*  which  hath  no  ende.     But  wordes  20 
shall  neuer  make  me  beeleeue  without  workes,  least  in  following 
a  faire  shadowe,  I  loose  the  firme  substance,  and  in  one  worde  to 
set  downe  the  onely  tfiall  that  a  Ladie  requireth  of  hir  louer,  it  is 
this,   that  he  performe  as  much  as  he  sware,   that  euery  othe  be 
a  deede,  euery  gloase  a  gospell,  promising  nothing  in  his  talke,  that  25 
he  performe  not  in  his  triall. 

The  qualities  that  are  required  of  the  minde  are  good  conditions, 
as  temperance  not  to  exceede  in  dyot,  chastitie  not  to  sinne  in  desire, 
constancie  not  to  couet  chaunge,  witte  to  delight,  wisdome  to  instruct, 
myrth  to  please  without  offence,  and  modestie  to  gouerne  without  30 
presisenes. 

Concerning  the  body,  as  there  is  no  Gentlewoman  so  curious  to 
haue  him  in  print,  so  is  there  no  one  so  careles  to  haue  him  a  wretch, 
onlye  his  right  shape  to  shew  him  a  man,  his  Christedom  to  proue 
his  faith,  indifferent  wealth  to  maintaine  his  family,  expecting  al  35 
things  necessary,  nothing  superfluous.  And  to  conclude  with  you 
Surius,  vnlesse  I  might  haue  such  a  one,  I  had  as  leaue  be  buried 

3  serceth  M  \  8  and  not  to  those  A  :    and  not  those  B :    not  those  E  rest 

the  E  rest  22  to  om.  M-E  25  glospell  M  33  there  is 

E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  169 

as  maried,  wishing  rather  to  haue  no  beautie  and  dye  a  chast  virgin, 
then  no  ioy  and  Hue  a  cursed  wife. 

Surius  as  one  daunted  hauing  little  to  aunswere,  yet  delighted  to 
heare  hir  speak,  with  a  short  speech  vttered  these  words. 

5  T  Perceiue  Camilla,  that  be  your  cloath  neuer  so  badde  it  will 
A  take  some  colour,  &  your  cause  neuer  so  false,  it  will  beare 
some  shew  of  probabilytie,  wherein  you  manifest  the  right  nature  of 
a  woman,  who  hauing  no  way  to  winne,  thinketh  to  ouercome  with 
words.  This  I  gather  by  your  aunswere,  that  beautie  may  haue 

10  faire  leaues,  &  foule  fruite,  y*  al  that  are  amiable  are  not  honest, 
that  loue  proceedeth  of  the  womans  perfection,  and  the  mans  follies, 
that  the  triall  loked  for,  is  to  performe  whatsoeuer  they  promise, 
that  in  minde  he  be  vertuous,  in  bodye  comelye,  suche  a  husband  in 
my  opinion  is  to  be  wished  for,  but  not  looked  for.  Take  heede 

15  Camilla,  that  seeking  al  the  Woode  for  a  streight  sticke  you  chuse 
not  at  the  last  a  crooked  staffe,  or  prescribing  a  good  counsaile  to 
others,  thou  thy  selfe  follow  the  worst :  much  lyke  to  Chius,  who 
selling  the  best  wine  to  others,  drank  him  selfe  of  the  lees. 

Truly  quoth  Camilla,  my  Wooll  was  blacke,  and  therefore  it  could 

20  take  no  other  colour,  and  my  cause  good,  and  therefore  admitteth 
no  cauill :  as  for  the^rules  I  set  downe  of  loue,  they  were  not  coyned 
of  me,  but  learned,  and  being  so  true,  beleeued.  If  my  fortune  bee 
so  yll  that  serching  for  a  wande,  I  gather  a  camocke,  or  selling  wine 
to  other,  I  drinke  vineger  my  selfe,  I  must  be  content,  that  of  ye 

25  worst  poore  helpe  patience,  which  by  so  much  the  more  is  to  be 
borne,  by  howe  much  the  more  it  is  perforce. 

As  Surius  was  speaking,  the  Ladie  Flauia  preuented  him,  saying, 
it  is  time  that  you  breake  off  your  speach,  least  we  haue  nothing  to 
speak,  for  should  you  wade  anye  farther,  you  woulde  both  waste  the 

30  night  and  leaue  vs  no  time,  and  take  our  reasons,  and  leaue  vs  no 
matter,  that  euery  one  therefore  may  say  some  what,  we  commaunde 
you  to  cease,  that  you  haue  both  sayd  so  well,  we  giue  -you  thankes. 
Thus  letting  Surius  and  Camilla  to  whisper  by  themselues  (whose 
talke  we  wil  not  heare)  the  Lady  began  in  this  manner  to  greet 

35  Martius. 

We  see  Martius  that  where  young  folkes  are  they  treat  of  loue, 
when  souldiers  meete  they  conferre  of  warre,  painters  of  their 

10  not  before  amiable  E  16  describing  B  rest  17  not  before  the  E  rest 

18  of  om.  E  rest         20  admitted  E  rest         22  true  beleeued  M        24-5  that... 
helpe]  so  all,   Qy.  ?  that  poore  helpe  of  ye  worst,  but  cf.  note          35  Matius  M 


iyo  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

coulours.  Musitians  of  their  crochets,  and  euery  one  talketh  of  that 
most  he  liketh  best.  Which  seeing  it  is  so,  it  behoueth  vs  yfc  haue 
more  yeres,  to  haue  more  wisdome,  not  to  measure  our  talk  by  the 
affections  we  haue  had,  but  by  those  we  should  haue. 

In  this  therefore  I  woulde  know  thy  minde  whether  it  be  conue-  5 
nient  for  women  to  haunt  such  places  where  Gentlemen  are,  or  for 
men  to  haue  accesse  to  gentlewomen,  which  me  thinketh  in  reason 
cannot  be  tollerable,  knowing  y*  there  is  nothing  more  pernicious  to 
either,  then  loue,  &  that  loue  breedeth  by  nothing  sooner  then 
lookes.  They  that  feare  water  will  come  neere  no  wells,  they  that  10 
stande  in  dreade  of  burning  flye  from  the  fire  :  and  ought  not  they 
that  woulde  not  be  entangled  with  desire  to  refraine  company? 
If  loue  haue  ye  panges  which  the  passionate  set  downe,  why  do 
they  not  abstaine  from  the  cause?  if  it  be  pleasant  why  doe  they 
dispraise  it.  15 

We  shunne  the  place  of  pestilence  for  feare  of  infection,  the  eyes 
of  Catoblepas,  bicause  of  diseases,  the  sight  of  the  Basilisk,  for 
dreade  of  death,  and  shall  wee  not  eschewe  the  companie  of  them 
that  may  entrappe  vs  in  loue,  which  is  more  bitter  then  any 
distruction?  20 

If  we  flye  theeues  that  steale  our  goods,  shall  wee  followe  mur- 
therers  yfc  cut  our  throates  ?  If  we  be  heedie  to^come  where  Waspes 
be,  least  we  be  stong,  shal  wee  hazarde  to  runne  where  Cupid  is, 
where  we  shall  bee  stifeled  ?  Truely  Martius  in  my  opinion  there 
is  nothing  either  more  repugnant  to  reason,  or  abhorring  from  nature,  25 
then  to  seeke  that  we*shoulde  shunne,  leauing  the  cleare  streame  to 
drinke  of  the  muddye  ditch,  or  in  the  extremitie  of  heate  to  lye  in 
the  parching  Sunne,  when  he  may  sleepe  in  the  colde  shadow  or 
being  free  from  fancy,  to  seeke  after  loue,  which  is  as  much  as  to 
coole  a  hott  Liuer  with  strong  wine,  or  to  cure  a  weake  stomake  30 
with  raw  flesh.  In  this  I  would  heare  thy  sentence,  induced  ye 
rather  to  this  discourse,  for  that  Surius  and  Camilla  haue  begunne 
it,  then  that  I  like  it  :  Loue  in  mee  hath  neither  power  to  com- 
maunde,  nor  perswasion  to  entreate.  Which  how  idle  a  thing  it  is, 
and  how  pestilent  to  youth,  I  partly  knowe,  and  you  I  am  sure  can  35 
gesse. 

Martius  not  very  young  to  discourse  of  these  matters,  yet  desirous 

10  bookes   A                    17  Catoblepas]   doubtfully  emending  Cathritiuss  M: 

Catherismes  ABG:  Catharismes  E  rest             18  feare  E  rest  21  stale  B 

22  heedie  so  all  28  we  E  rest  32  haue]  hath  E  33  neuer  E  rest 
37  those  H 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  171 

to  vtter  his  minde,  whether  it  were  to  flatter  Surius  in  his  will,  or 
to  make  triall  of  the  Ladies  witte :  Began  thus  to  frame  his 
aunswere. 

jV/TAdame,  ther  is  in  Chio  the  Image  of  Diana,  which  to  those 
5  that  enter  seemeth   sharpe  and   sower,  but  returning  after 

their  suites  made,  loketh  with  a  merrie  and  pleasaunt  countenaunce.  • 
And  it  maye  bee  that  at  the  entraunce  of  my  discourse  yee  will 
bende  your  browes  as  one  displeased,  but  hearing  my  proofe  be 
delighted  and  satisfied. 

10  The  question  you  moue,  is  whether  it  be  requisite,  that  Gentlemen 
and  Gentlewomen  should  meete.  Truly  among  Louers  it  is  conue- 
nient  to  augment  desire,  amogst  those  that  are  firme,  necessary  to 
maintaine  societie.  For  to  take  away  all  meeting  for  feare  of  loue, 
were  to  kindle  amongst  all,  the  fire  of  hate.  There  is  greater 

15  daunger  Madame,  by  absence,  which  breedeth  melancholy,  then  by 
presence,  which  engendreth  affection. 

If  the  sight  be  so  perillous,  that  the  company  shold  be  barred, 
why  then  admit  you  those  to  see  banquets,  that  may  there-by  surfet, 
or  suffer  them  to  eate  their  meate  by  a  candle  that  haue  sore  eyes  ? 

20  To  be  seperated  from  one  I  loue,  would  make  me  more  constant, 
and  to  keepe  company  with  hir  I  loue  not,  would  not  kindle  desire. 
Loue  commeth  as  well  in  at  the  eares,  by  the  report  of  good  condi 
tions,  as  in  at  the  eyes  by  the  amiable  countenaunce,  which  is  the 
cause,  that  diuers  haue  loued  those  they  neuer  saw,  &  seene  those 

25  they  neuer  loued. 

You  alleadge  that  those  that  feare  drowning,  come  neere  no  wells, 
nor  they  that  dread  burning,  neere  no  fire.  Why  then  let  them  stand 
in  doubt  also  to  washe  their  handes  in  a  shallow  brooke,  for  that 
Serapus  fallying  into  a  channell  was  drowned  :  &  let  him  that  is 

30  colde  neuer  warme  his  hands,  for  that  a  sparke  fell  into  the  eyes  of 
Acting  whereoff  she  dyed.  Let  none  corrte  into  the  companye  of 
women,  for  that  diuers  haue  bene  allured  to  loue,  and  being  refused, 
haue  vsed  vyolence  to  them-selues. 

Let  this  be  set  downe  for  a  law,  that  none  walke  abroad  in  the 

35  daye  but  men,  least  meeting  a  beautifull  woman,  he  fall  in  loue,  and 
loose  his  lybertie. 

1  thinke  Madam  you  will  not  be  so  precise,  to  cut  off  al  conferr- 
ence,  bicause  loue  commeth  by  often  communication,  which  if  you 

2  witte  om.  E  rest        5  seeme  Q       14  among  E  rest        2$  that1]  all  E  rest 


1 72  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

do,  let  vs  all  now  presentlye  departe,  least  in  seeing  the  beautie 
which  daseleth  our  eies,  and  hearing  the  wisdom  which  tickleth  our 
ears,  we  be  enflamed  with  loue. 

But  you  shall  neuer  beate  the  Flye  from  the  Candell  though  he 
burne,  nor  the  Quaile  from  Hemlocke  though  it  bee  poyson,  nor  5 
the  Louer  from  the  companye  of  his  Lady  though  it  be  perillous. 

It  falleth  out  sundry  tymes,  that  company  is  the  cause  to  shake  off 
loue,  working  the  effects  of  the  roote  Rubarbe,  which  beeinge  full  of 
choler,  purgeth  choler,  or  of  the  Scorpions  sting,  which  being  full  of 
poyson,  is  a  remedy  for  poyson.  10 

But  this  I  conclude,  that  to  barre  one  that  is  in  loue  of  the 
companye  of  his  lady,  maketh  him  rather  madde,  then  mortified, 
for  him  to  refraine  that  neuer  knewe  loue,  is  eyther  to  suspect  him 
of  folly  with-out  cause,  or  the  next  way  for  him  to  fall  into  folly 
when  he  knoweth  the  cause.  15 

A  Louer  is  like  ye  hearb  Heliotropium,  which  alwaies  enclyneth  to 
that  place  where  the  Sunne  shineth,  and  being  depriued  of  the  Sunne, 
dieth.  For  as  Lunaris  hearbe,  as  long  as  the  Moone  waxeth,  bringeth 
forth  leaues,  and  in  the  waining  shaketh  them  of :  so  a  Louer  whilst 
he  is  in  the  company  of  his  Lady,  wher  al  ioyes  encrease,  vttereth  20 
manye  pleasaunt  conceites,  but  banyshed  from  the  sight  of  his 
Mistris,  where  all  mirth  decreaseth,  eyther  lyueth  in  Melancholic,  or 
dieth  with  desperation. 

The  Lady  Flauia  speaking  in  his  cast,  proceeded  in  this  manner. 

Martius  I  had  not  thought  that  as  yet  your  coltes  tooth  25 
stucke  in  your  mouth,  or  that  so  olde  a  trewant  in  loue,  could 
hether-to  remember  his  lesson.     You  seeme  not  to  inferre  that  it  is 
requisite  they  should  meete,  but  being  in  loue  that  it  is  conuenient, 
least  falling  into  a  mad  moode,  they  pine  in  their  owne  peuishnesse. 
Why  then  let  it  follow,  that  the  Drunckarde  which  surfeiteth  with  30 
wine  be  alwayes  quaffing,  bicause  hee  liketh  it,  or  the  Epicure  which 
glutteth  him-selfe  with  meate  be  euer  eating,  for  that  it  contenteth 
him,  not  seeking  at  any  time  the  meanes  to  redresse  their  vices,  but 
to  renue  them.     But  it  fareth  with  the  Louer  as  it  doth  with  him 
that  powreth  in  much  wine,  who  is  euer  more  thirstie,  then  he  that  35 
drinketh  moderately,  for  hauing  once  tasted  the  delightes  of  loue,  he 

2  wisedonves  E  rest  4  she  E  resi,  except  we  1617  5  ye  before 

Hemlock  A  rest  8  effect  E  rest  of  before  Rubarbe  E  rest  9 

who  E  rest  16  Helitropium,  E  rest    .        33  not]  nor  H  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  173 

desireth  most  the  thing  that  hurteth  him  most,  not  laying  a  playster 
to  the  wounde,  but  a  corasiue. 

I  am  of  this  minde,  that  if  it  bee  daungerous,  to  laye  Flaxe  to  the 

fyre,  Salte  to  the  eyes,  Sulphure  to  the  nose,  that  then  it  can-not  bee 

5  but  perillous  to  let  one  Louer  come  in  presence  of  the  other.     Surius 

ouer-hearing  the  Lady,  and  seeing  hir  so  earnest,  although  hee  were 

more  earnest  in  his  suite  to  Camilla,  cut  hir  off  with  these  wordes. 

Ood  Madame  giue  mee  leaue  eyther  to  departe,  or  to  speake, 
for  in  trueth  you  gall  me  more  with  these  tearmes,  then  you 

i  o  wist,  in  seeming  to  inueigh  so  bitterly  against  the  meeting  of  Louers, 
which  is  the  onelye  Marrow  of  loue,  and  though  I  doubt  not  but  that 
Martins  is  sufficiently  armed  to  aunswere  you,  yet  would  I  not  haue 
those  reasons  refelled,  which  I  loath  to  haue  repeated.  It  maye  be 
you  vtter  them  not  of  malice  you  beare  to  loue,  but  only  to  moue 

15  controuersie  where  ther  is  no  question :  For  if  thou  enuie  to  haue 
Louers  meete,  why  did  you  graunt  vs,  if  allow  it,  why  seeke  you  to 
seperate  vs  ? 

The  good  Lady  could  not  refraine  from  laughter,  when  she  saw 
Surius  so  angry,  who  in  the  middest  of  his  own  tale,  was  troubled 

20  with  hirs,  whome  she  thus  againe  aunswered. 

I  crye  you  mercie  Gentleman,  I  had  not  thought  to  haue  catched 
you,  when  I  fished  for  an  other,  but  I  perceiue  now  that  with  one 
beane  it  is  easie  to  gette  two  Pigions,  and  with  one  baight  to  haue 
diuers  bites.  I  see  that  others  maye  gesse  where  the  shooe  wringes, 

25  besides  him  that  weares  it.  Madame  quoth  Surius  you  haue  caught 
a  Frog,  if  I  be  not  deceiued,  and  therfore  as  good  it  were  not  to 
hurt  him,  as  not  to  eate  him,  but  if  all  this  while  you  angled  to 
haue  a  bytte  at  a  Louer,  you  should  haue  vsed  no  bitter  medicines, 
but  pleasaunt  baightes. 

3o  I  can-not  tell  answered  Flauia,  whether  my  baight  were  bytter  or 
not,  but  sure  I  am  I  haue  the  fishe  by  the  gill,  that  doth  mee  good. 
Camilla  not  thinking  to  be  silent,  put  in  hir  spoke  as  she  thought 
into  the  best  wheele,  saying. 

i  the  thing  most  F  rest  3  Besides,  before  I  E  rest  5  in  the  presence 

E  rest  Surius]  in  M-G  the  name  is  preceded  by  For.  It  may  be,  as  Prof.  Arber 
thinks,  a  slip  of  the  pen,  or  may  point  to  the  accidental  omission  of  something  which 
preceded  it  in  the  original  MS.  10  wish  E  :  wisse  F  rest  15  thou]  you 

E  rest  23  gette]  catch  E  rest  Pigeons  A-G  1623,   1636  :    Pidgions 

.£-1617,  1630-31  24  bits  MAB  27  you]  your  Ladiship  E  rest  28 

byt  A  :  bit  B  :  bite  E  rest  29  baytes  A  :   baites  ^^-1623  :  baits  E  1630-36 

32  thinking]  willing  E  rest  33  into]  in  E  rest          saying]  and  began  in  this 

manner  E  rest 


174  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Lady  your  cunning  maye  deceiue  you  in  fishing  with  an  Angle, 
therfore  to  catch  him  you  would  haue,  you  were  best  to  vse  a  net. 
A  net  quoth  Flauia,  I  neede  none,  for  my  fishe  playeth  in  a  net 
already,  with  that  Surius  beganne  to  winche,  replying  immediately, 
so  doth  manye  a  fishe  good  Ladye  that  slyppeth  out,  when  the  5 
Fysher  thinketh  him  fast  in,  and  it  may  be,  that  eyther  your  nette 
is  too  weake  to  houlde  him,  or  your  hand  too  wette.  A  wette  hande 
quoth  Flauia  will  holde  a  dead  Hearing :  I  quoth  Surius^  but  Eeles 
are  no  Hearinges,  but  Louers  are,  sayde  Flauia. 

Surius  not  willing  to  haue  the  grasse  mowne,  where-of  hee  meant  10 
to  make  his  haye,  beganne  thus  to  conclude. 

Ood  Lady  leaue  off  fishing  for  this  time,  &  though  it  bee  Lent, 
rather  breake  a  statute  which  is  but  penall,  then  sew  a  pond 
that  maye  be  perpetuall.     I  am  content  quoth  Flauia  rather  to  fast 
for  once,  then  to  want  a  pleasure  for  euer :  yet  Surius  betwixte  vs  15 
two,  I  will  at  large  proue,  that  there  is  nothinge  in  loue  more  vene- 
mous  then  meeting,,  which  filleth  the  mind  with  grief  &  the  body 
with  deseases :  for  hauing  the  one,  hee  can-not  fayle  of  the  other. 
But  now  Philautus  and  Neece  Frauncis,  since  I  am  cut  off,  beginne 
you  :  but  be  shorte,  bicause  the  time  is  short,  and  that  I  was  more  20 
short  then  I  would. 

Frauncis  who  was  euer  of  witte  quicke,  and  of  nature  pleasaunt, 
seeing  Philautus  all  this  while  to  be  in  his  dumpes,  beganne  thus  to 
playe  with  him. 

Entleman  either  you  are  musing  who  shal  be  your  seconde  wife,  25 

or  who  shall  father  your  first  childe,  els  would  you  not  all  this 
while  hang  your  head,  neither  attending  to  the  discourses  that  you 
haue  hard,  nor  regarding  the  company  you  are  in :  or  it  may  be 
(which  of  both  coniectures  is  likeliest)  that  hearing  so  much  talke  of 
loue,  you  are  either  driuen  to  the  remembrace  of  the  Italian  Ladyes  30 
which  once  you  serued,  or  els  to  the  seruice  of  those  in  Englande 
which  you  haue  since  your  comming  seene,  for  as  Andromache  when 
so  euer  she  saw  the  Tombe  of  Hector  coulde  not  refraine  from 
weeping,  or  as  Laodamia  could  neuer  beholde  the  picture  of  Pro- 
tesilaus  in  wax,  but  she  alwayes  fainted,  so  louers  when-soeuer  they  35 
viewe  the  image  of  their  Ladies,  though  not  the  same  substance, 

8  Herring  GE  rest  9  Herrings  GE  rest  ia  Lady]  Madame  E  rest 

13  sue  a  Pond  EF\  sue  a  Bond  H  rest  19,  22  Fraunces  E  :  Francis  1623- 

31  :  Frances  1636  32  for]  or  E  rest  34  Laodomia  E  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  175 

yet  the  similitude  in  shadow,  they  are  so  benummed  in  their  ioints, 
and  so  bereft  of  their  wittes,  that  they  haue  neither  the  power  to 
moue  their  bodies  to  shew  life,  nor  their  tongues  to  make  aunswere, 
so  y*  I  thinking  that  with  your  other  sences,  you  had  also  lost  your 
5  smelling,  thought  rather  to  be  a  thorne  whose  point  might  make 
you  feele  somewhat,  then  a  Uiolet  whose  sauour  could  cause  you  to 
smell  nothing. 

Philautus  seing  this  Gentlewoman  so  pleasantly  disposed,  replyed 
in  this  manner. 

10  /^  Entlewoman,  to  studie  for  a  seconde  wife  before  I  knowe  my 

first,  were  to  resemble  the  good  Huswife  in  Naples,  who  tooke 

thought  to   bring   forth  hir  chikens  before   she  had  Hens  to  lay 

Egs,  &  to  muse  who  should  father  my  first  childe,  wer  to  doubt 

when  the  cowe  is  mine,  who  should  owe  the  calfe.      But  I  will 

15  neither  be  so  hastie  to  beate  my  braines  about  two  wiues,  before 
I  knowe  where  to  get  one,  nor  so  ielous  to  mistrust  hir  fidelitie 
when  I  haue  one.  Touching  the  view  of  Ladies  or  the  remem 
brance  of  my  loues,  me  thinketh  it  should  rather  sharpe  the  poynt 
in  me  then  abate  the  edge.  My  sences  are  not  lost  though  my 

20  labour  bee,  and  therefore  my  good  Uiolet,  pricke  not  him  forwarde 
with  sharpenesse,  whom  thou  shouldest  rather  comfort  with  sauours. 
But  to  put  you  out  of  doubt  that  my  witts  were  not  al  this  while 
a  wol-gathering,  I  was  debating  with  my  selfe,  whether  in  loue  it  were 
better  to  be  constant,  bewraying  all  the  counsailes,  or  secreat  being 

25  ready  euery  hour  to  flinch  :  And  so  many  reasons  came  to  confirme 
either,  that  I  coulde  not  be  resolued  of  any.  To  be  constant  what 
thing  more  requisite  in  loue,  when  it  shall  alwayes  be  greene  like  the 
luie,  though  the  Sun  parch  it,  that  shal  euer  be  hard  like  ye  true 
Diamod,  though  the  hammer  beate  it,  that  still  groweth  with  the 

30  good  vine,  though  the  knife  cut  it.  Constancy  is  like  vnto  the 
Storke,  who  wheresoeuer  she  flye  commeth  into  no  neast  but  hir 
owne,  or  the  Lapwinge,  whom  nothing  can  driue  from  hir  young 
ones,  but  death :  But  to  reueale  the  secreats  of  loue,  the  counsailes, 
the  conclusions,  what  greater  dispite  to  his  Ladie,  or  more  shame- 

35  full  discredite  to  himselfe,  can  be  immagined,  when  there  shall  no 
letter  passe  but  it  shalbee  disclosed,  no  talke  vttered  but  it  shall 
bee  againe  repeated,  nothing  done  but  it  shall  be  reuealed :  Which 

8  perceiuing  E  rest        replyed]  with  a  merry  countenaunce  and  quick  wit,  be- 
ganne  to  make  aunswere  £  rest  15  braine  E  rest  18  loue  E  rest  20 

him  not  E  rest  26  of]  in  B  rest 


I76  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

when  I  considered,  mee  thought  it  better  to  haue  one  that  shoulde 
be  secreate  though  fickle,  then  a  blab  though  constant. 

For  what  is  there  in  the  worlde  that  more  deliteth  a  louer  then 
secrecie,   whiche   is  voyde  of  feare,  without   suspition,   free    from 
enuie :    the  onely  hope  a  woeman  hath  to  builde  both  hir  honour  5 
and  honestie  vppon. 

The  tongue  of  a  louer  should  be  like  the  poynt  in  the  Diall, 
which  though  it  go,  none  can  see  it  going,  or  a  young  tree  which 
though  it  growe,  none  can  perceiue  it  growing,  hauing  alwayes  the 
stone  in  their  mouth  which  the  Cranes  vse  when  they  flye  ouer  10 
mountaines,  least  they  make  a  noyse.  But  to  bee  sylent,  and 
lyghtly  to  esteeme  of  his  Ladye,  to  shake  hir  off  though  he  be 
secreat,  to  chaunge  for  euerything  though  he  bewray  nothing,  is 
the  -onely  thing  that  cutteth  the  heart  in  peeces  of  a  true  and 
constant  louer,  which  deepely  waying  with  my  selfe,  I  preferred  15 
him  that  woulde  neuer  remoue,  though  he  reueiled  all,  before  him 
that  woulde  conceale  all,  and  euer  bee  slyding.  Thus  wafting  to 
and  fro,  I  appeale  to  you  my  good  Uiolet,  whether  in  loue  be  more 
required  secrecie,  or  constancy. 

Fraunds  with  hir  accustomable  boldnes,  yet  modestly,  replyed  as  20 
followeth. 

Entleman  if  I  shoulde  aske  you  whether  in  the  making  of 
a  good  sworde,  yron  were  more  to  bee  required,  or  steele, 
sure  I  am  you  woulde  aunswere  that  both  were  necessarie  :  Or  if  I 
shoulde  be  so  curious  to  demaunde  whether  in  a  tale  tolde  to  your  25 
Ladyes,  disposition  or  inuention  be  most  conuenient,  I  cannot 
thinke  but  you  woulde  iudge  them  both  expedient,  for  as  one 
mettall  is  to  be  tempered  with  another  in  fashioning  a  good  blade, 
least  either,  being  all  of  steele  it  quickly  breake,  or  all  of  yron  it 
neuer  cutte,  so  fareth  it  in  speach,  which  if  it  be  not  seasoned  as  30 
well  with  witte  to  moue  delight,  as  with  art,  to  manifest  cunning, 
there  is  no  eloquence,  and  in  no  other  manner  standeth  it  with 
loue,  for  to  be  secreate  and  not  constant,  or  constant  and  not 

4  feare,]  comma  om.  ME  7  the3]  a  E  rest  10  their]  his  E  rest 

ii  the  before  mountaines  E  rest  12  shee  E  rest  15  preferred]  presented  E 
16  reueale  B  rest  17  wafting  .£  rest',  wasting  M-G  20  Fraunces^: 

Francis  1630-31 :    Frances  1636  24  that  before  you  E  rest  26  Ladyes 

M-E  without  comma,  M-G  placing  one  at  disposition:  Ladie,  FH  1630-36: 
Lady  1617-23  inuention  F rest:  mention  M-E  (the  'be'  is  in  /.  26)  be  om. 
M-G  28  tempered  A  rest  blade,]  the  comma  at  fashioning  M 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  177 

secret,  were  to  builde  a  house  of  morter  without  stones,  or  a  wall 
of  stones  without  morter. 

There  is  no  liuely  picture  drawen  with  one  colour,  no   curious 
Image   wrought   with  one  toole,  no   perfect    Musike   played   with 
5  one  string,  and  wouldest  thou  haue  loue,  the  patterne  of  eternitie, 
couloured  either  with  constancie  alone,  or  onely  secrecie  ? 

There  must  in  euery  triangle  be  three  lines,  the  first  beginneth, 
the  seconde  augmenteth,  the  third  concludeth  it  a  figure.  So  in  loue 
three  vertues,  affection  which  draweth  the  heart,  secrecie  which 

10  increaseth  the  hope,  constancie,  which  finish  the  worke  :  without  any 
of  these  lynes  there  can  be  no  triangle,  without  any  of  these  vertues, 
no  loue. 

There  is  no  man  that  runneth  with  one  legge,  no  birde  that 
flyeth  with  one  winge,  no  loue  that  lasteth  with  one  lyrri.  Loue  is 

I5  likened  to  the  Emerald  which  cracketh  rather  then  consenteth  to 
any  disloyaltie,  and  can  there  be  any  greater  villany  then  being 
secreat,  not  to  be  constant  or  being  constant  not  to  be  secret.  But 
it  falleth  out  with  those  that  being  constant  are  yet  full  of  bable,  as 
it  doth  with  the  serpent  laculus  &  the  Uiper,  who  burst  with  their 

20  owne  brood,  as  these  are  torne  with  their  owne  tongues. 

It  is  no  question  Philautus  to  aske  which  is  best,  when  being 
not  ioyned  there  is  neuer  a  good.  If  thou  make  a  question  where 
there  is  no  doubt,  thou  must  take  an  aunswere  where  there  is  no 
reason.  Why  then  also  doest  thou  not  enquire  whether  it  were 

25  better  for  a  horse  to  want  his  foreleggs  or  his  hinder,  when  hauing 
not  all  he  cannot  trauell :  why  art  thou  not  inquisitiue,  whether 
it  were  more  conuenient  for  the  wrastlers  in  the  games  of  Olympia 
to  be  without  armes  or  without  feete,  or  for  trees  to  want  rootes 
or  lacke  tops  when  either  is  impossible?  Ther  is  no  true  louer 

30  bele^ue  me  Philautus,  sence  telleth  me  so,  not  triall,  that  hath  not 
faith,  secrecie,  and  constancie.  If  thou  want  either  it  is  lust,  no 
loue,  and  that  thou  hast  not  them  all,  thy  profound  question 
assureth  me :  which  if  thou  diddest  aske  to  trie  my  wit,  thou 
thoughtest  me  very  dull,  if  thou  resolue  thy  selfe  of  a  doubt, 

35  I  cannot  thinke  thee  very  sharpe. 

Philautus  that  perceiued  hir  to  be  so  sharp,  thought  once  againe 

3  with  one  GE-H 1 630-36 :  without  MAB :  with  ode  1617:  with  od  1623 
10  finisheth  GE  rest  n  lynes]  rules  E  rest  14  limme  G\  lim  -£"-1631  : 

limb  1636  15  linked  E        Emrold  E\    Emeraud  F  rest  18  being]  be 

E  rest        are]  and  all  eds.         babble  GE  rest  20  as]  and  GE  rest  25 

betber  M          26  trauaile  GEF          31  no]  not  E  rest          34  thou]  to  E  rest 

Finvn  IT  N 


1  78  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

like  a  whetston  to  make  hir  sharper,  and  in  these  wordes  returned 
his  aunswere. 

1\/|"  Y  sweete  violet,  you  are  not  vnlike  vnto  those,  who  hauing 
gotten  the  startte  in  a  race,  thinke  none  to  bee  neere  their 
heeles,  bicause  they  be  formost  :  For  hauing  the  tale  in  your  mouth,  5 
you  imagine  it  is  all  trueth,  and  that  none  can  controll  it. 

Frauncis  who  was  not  willing  to  heare  him  goe  forward  in  so  fond 
an  argument,  cut  him  off  before  he  should  come  to  his  conclusion. 

f~*  Entle-man,  the  faster  you  runne  after  me,  the  farther  you  are 

from  me  :    therefore  I  would  wish  you  to  take  heede,  y*  in  10 
seeking  to  strik  at  my  heeles,  you  trippe  not  vp  your  owne.     You 
would  faine  with  your  witte  cast  a  white  vpon  blacke,  where-in  you 
are  not  vnlike  vnto  those,  that  seing  their  shadow  very  short  in  the 
Sunne,  thinke  to  touch  their  head  with  their  heele,  and  putting  forth 
their  legge  are  farther  from  it,  then  when  they  stoode  still.     In  my  15 
opinion  it  were  better  to  sit  on  the  ground  with  little  ease,  then  to 
ryse  and  fall  with  great  daunger. 

Philautus  beeing  in  a  maze  to  what  end  this  talke  should  tende, 
thought  that  eyther  Camilla  had  made  hir  priuie  to  his  loue,  or  that 
she  meant  by  suspition  to  entrappe  him  :  Therfore  meaning  to  leaue  20 
his  former  question,  and  to  aunswere  hir  speach  proceeded  thus. 


Fraunris,  you  resemble  in  your  sayings  the  Painter 
Tamantes,  in  whose  pictures  there  was  euer  more  vnder- 
stoode  then  painted  :  for  with  a  glose  you  seeme  to  shadow  yt, 
which  in  coulours  you  wil  not  shewe.  It  can-not  be,  my  violet,  that  25 
the  faster  I  run  after  you,  the  farther  I  shoulde  bee  from  you, 
vnlesse  that  eyther  you  haue  wings  tyed  to  your  heeles,  or  I  thornes 
thrust  into  mine.  The  last  dogge  oftentimes  catcheth  the  Hare, 
though  the  fleetest  turne  him,  the  slow  Snaile  clymeth  the  tower  at 
last,  though  the  swift  Swallowe  mount  it,  the  lasiest  winneth  the  gole,  3° 
somtimes,  though  the  lightest  be  neere  it.  In  hunting  I  had  as  liefe 
stand  at  the  receite,  as  at  the  loosing,  in  running  rather  endure  long 
with  an  easie  amble,  then  leaue  off  being  out  of  winde,  with  a  swifte 
gallop  :  Especially  when  I  runne  as  Hippomanes  did  with  Atlanta, 

4  to  bee]  too  E  rest  7  was  very  much  vnwilling  E  rest  8  in  this 

manner,  after  conclusion,  E  rest  10  to  cm.  If  rest  16  a  before  little 

E  rest  1  8  this]  his  H  rest  23  Tamantes  so  all,  for  Timanthes  29 

climbeth  G\  climeth  to  E  rest          32  the1  om.  E-H          34  Hippomenes  F  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  179 

who  was  last  in  the  course,  but  first  at  the  crowne  :  So  that  I  gesse 
that  woemen  are  eyther  easie  to  be  out  stripped,  or  willing. 

1  seeke  not  to  trippe  at  you,  bicause  I  might  so  hynder  you  and 
hurt  my  self :  for  in  letting  your  course  by  striking  at  your  shorte 

5  heeles,  you  woulde  when  I  should  craue  pardon,  shew  me  a  high 
instep. 

As  for  my  shadowe,  I  neuer  go  about  to  reach  it,  but  when  the 
Sunne  is  at  the  highest,  for  then  is  my  shadowe  at  the  shortest,  so 
that  it  is  not  difficult  to  touch  my  head  with  my  heele,  when  it  lyeth 
10  almoste  vnder  my  heele. 

You  say  it  is  better  to  sit  still  then  to  aryse  and  fall,  and  I  saye 
hee  that  neuer  clymbeth  for  feare  of  falling,  is  like  vnto  him  that 
neuer  drincketh  for  feare  of  surfeting. 

If  you  thinke  eyther  the  ground  so  slipperie,  wherin  I  runne,  that 

15  I  must  needes  fall,  or  my  feete  so  chill  that  I  must  needes  founder, 

it  maye  be  I  will  chaunge  my  course  here-after,  but  I  meane  to  ende 

it  now :  for  I  had  rather  fall  out  of  a  lowe  window  to  the  ground, 

then  hang  in  midde  way  by  a  bryer. 

Fraunds  who  tooke  no  little  pleasure  to  heare  Philantus  talke, 
20  began  to  come  on  roundly  in  these  tearmes. 

J"T  is  a  signe  Gentleman  that  your  footemanship  is  better  then 

•*•      your  stomacke  :  for  what-soeuer  you  say,  me  thinketh  you  had 

rather  be  held  in  a  slippe,  then  let  slippe,  where-in  you  resemble  the 

graye-hounde,  that  seeing  his  game,  leapeth  vpon  him  that  holdeth 

25  him,  not  running  after  that  he  is  held  for :  or  the  Hawke  which 

being  cast  off  at  a  Partridge,  taketh  a  stand  to  prune  hir  fethers, 

when  she  should  take  hir  flight.     For  it  seemeth  you  beare  good 

will  to  the  game  you  can-not  play  at,  or  will  not,  or  dare  not,  where-in 

you  imitate  the  Cat  that  leaueth  the  Mouse,  to  follow  the  milk-pan  : 

30  for  I  perceiue  that  you  let  the  Hare  go  by,  to  hunt  the  Badger. 

Philautus  astonied  at  this  speache,  knew  not  which  way  to  frame 

his  aunswere,  thinking  now  that  shee  perceiued  his  tale  to  be  adressed 

to  hir,  though  his  loue  were  fixed  on  Camilla :  But  to  rydde  hir  of 

suspition,  though  loth  that  Camilla  should  conceue  any  inckling,  he 

35  played  fast  and  loose  in  this  manner. 

Gentlewoman  you  mistake  me  very  much,  for  I  haue  beene  better 

2  either  are  .£-1631  out  tripped  GE  5  an  E  rest  14  eyther 
.  .  .  so]  the  ground  eyther  too  E  rest              whereon  GE  rest              18  the  before 
midde  ABE  rest          19  talke  om.  E  rest          22-3  had  rather]  hather  H\  rather 
1617  rest             25  he]  shee  G            27  it  seemeth  you  A  rest:  you  seeme  you  M 
30  to]  and  F  rest            33  was  E  rest            36  Gentleman  MH 

N  2 


i8o  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

taught  then  fedde,  and  therefore  I  knowe  how  to  follow  my  game,  if 
it  be  for  my  gaine  :  For  wer  there  two  Hares  to  runne  at,  I  would 
endeauor  not  to  catch  the  first  that  I  followed,  but  the  last  that 
I  started  :  yet  so  as  the  firste  shoulde  not  scape,  nor  the  last  be 

caught.  5 

You  speake  contraries,  quoth  Frauncis,  and  you  wil  worke  wonders, 
but  take  heede  your  cunning  in  hunting,  make  you  not  to  loose 
both. 

Both  said  Philautus,  why  I  seeke  but  for  one,  and  yet  of  two 
quoth  Frauncis  ^  you  can-not  tell  which  to  follow,  one  runneth  so  fast  10 
you  wil  neuer  catch  hir,  the  other  is  so  at  the  squat,  you  can  neuer 
finde  hir. 

The  Ladie  Flania,  whether  desirous  to  sleepe,  or  loth  these  iests 
should  be  too  broad  as  moderater  commaunded  them  both  to 
silence,  willing  Eitphues  as  vmper  in  these  matters,  briefly  to  speake  15 
his  minde.  Camilla  and  Surius  are  yet  talking,  Frauncis  and 
Philautus  are  not  idle,  yet  all  attentiue  to  heare  Enphues,  as  well 
for  the  expectation  they  had  of  his  wit,  as  to  knowe  the  drift 
of  theyr  discourses,  who  thus  began  the  conclusion  of  all  their 
s  peaches.  20 

T  T  was  a  lawe  among  the  Persians,  that  the  Musitian  should  not 
•*•  iudge  of  the  Painter,  nor  anye  one  meddle  in  that  handy  craft, 
where-in  hee  was  not  expert,  which  maketh  me  meruaile  good 
Madam  yt  you  should  appoynt  him  to  be  an  vmper  in  loue,  who 
neuer  yet  had  skill  in  his  lawes.  For  although  I  seemed  to  consent  25 
by  my  silence  before  I  knewe  the  argument  where-of  you  would 
dispute,  yet  hearing  nothing  but  reasons  for  loue,  I  must  eyther  call 
backe  my  promyse,  or  call  in  your  discourses,  and  better  it  were  in 
rny  opinion  not  to  haue  your  reasons  concluded,  then  to  haue  them 
confuted.  But  sure  I  am  that  neyther  a  good  excuse  will  serue,  30 
where  authority  is  rigorous,  nor  a  bad  one  be  hard,  where  necessitie 
compelleth.  But  least  I  be  longer  in  breaking  a  web  then  the  Spider 
is  in  weauing  it,  Your  pardons  obteyned,  if  I  offend  in  sharpnesse, 
and  your  patience  graunted,  if  molest  in  length,  I  thus  beginne  to 
conclude  against  you  all,  not  as  one  singuler  in  his  owne  conceite,  35 
but  to  be  tryed  by  your  gentle  constructions. 

4  escape  F  rest  15  vmpire  1617  rest  19  theyr]  his  E  rest  22  of 

om.  A  rest  23  expert]  perfect  E  rest  24  vmpier  1623  :  vmpire  1636 

31   heard  A  rest 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS  ENGLAND  181 

O  Vrius  beginneth  with  loue,  which  procedeth  by  beautie  (vnder 

the  whiche  hee  comprehendeth  all  other  vertues)  Ladye  Flauia 

moueth  a  question,  whether  the  meeting  of  Louers  be  tollerable. 

Philautus  commeth  in  with  two  bratmches  in  his  hande,  as  though 

5  there  were  no  more  leaues  on  that  tree,  asking  whether  constancie  or 

secrecie  be  most  to  be  required,  great  holde  there  hath  beene  who 

shoulde  proue  his  loue  best,  when  in  my  opinion  there  is  none  good. 

But  such  is  the  vanitie  of  youth,  that  it  thinketh  nothing  worthie  either 

of  commendation  or  conference,  but  onely  loue,  whereof  they  sowe  much 

jo  and  reape  little,  wherein  they  spende  all  and  gaine  nothing,  where-by 
they  runne  into  daungers  before  they  wist,  and  repent  their  desires 
before  they  woulde.  I  doe  not  discommende  honest  affection,  which 
is  grounded  vppon  vertue  as  the  meane,  but  disordinate  fancie  whiche 
is  builded  vppon  lust  as  an  extremitie  :  and  lust  I  must  tearme  that 

I5  which  is  begunne  in  an  houre  and  ended  in  a  minuit,  the  common 

loue  in  this  our  age,  where  Ladyes  are  courted  for  beautye,  not  for 

vertue.,  men  loued  for  proportion  in  bodie,  not  perfection  in  minde. 

It  fareth  with  louers  as  with  those  that  drinke  of  the  ryuer  Gal/us 

in  Phrigia,  whereof  sipping  moderately  is  a  medecine,  but  swilling 

20  with  excesse  it  breedeth  madnesse. 

Lycurgus  set  it  downe  for  a  lawe,  that  where  men  were  commonly 
dronken,  the  vynes  shoulde  bee  destroyed,  and  I  am  of  that  minde, 
that  where  youth  is  giuen  to  loue,  the  meanes  shoulde  be  remoued. 
For  as  the  earth  wherein  the  Mynes  of  Siluer  and  golde  are  hidden 

25  is  profitable  for  no  other  thing  but  mettalles,  so  the  heart  wherein 
loue  is  harboured,  receiueth  no  other  seede  but  affection.  Louers 
seeke  not  those  thinges  which  are  most  profitable,  but  most  pleasant, 
resembling  those  that  make  garlands,  who  choose  the  fayrest  flowers, 
not  the  holsomest,  and  beeing  once  entangled  with  desire,  they 

30  alwayes  haue  ye  disease,  not  vnlike  vnto  the  Goat,  who  is  neuer 
without  an  aigue,  then  beeing  once  in,  they  followe  the  note  of  the 
Nightingale,  which  is  saide  with  continual  strayning  to  singe,  to 
perishe  in  hir  sweete  layes,  as  they  doe  in  their  sugred  Hues  :  where 
is  it  possible  either  to  eate  or  drinke,  or  walke  but  he  shal  heare 

35  some  question  of  loue  ?  in  somuch  that  loue  is  become  so  common, 
that  there  is  no  artificer  of  so  base  a  crafte,  no  clowne  so  simple,  no 

5  on]  of  ABE  rest  9  conference,  E  rest :  the  comma  at  commendation  M, 
at  neither  AB  n  danger  E  rest  12  his  before  honest  E  rest  which]  that 
E  rest  15  minute  A-F  1636:  minut  1617-31  17  for  before  perfection  E  rest 
18  Callus]  lellus  all  eds.  23  is]  are  B  rest  24-5  is  hidden,  are  E  rest 

29  wholsomest  A  rest  31  Ague  A  rest 


182  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

begger  so  poore,  but  either  talketh  of  loue,  or  liueth  in  loue,  when 
they  neither  know  the  meanes  to  come  by  it,  nor  the  wisedome  to 
encrease  it :  And  what  can  be  the  cause  of  these  louing  wormes,  but 
onely  idlenesse  ? 

But  to  set  downe  as  a  moderator  the  true  perfection  of  loue,  not  5 
like  an  enemie  to  talke  of  the  infection,  (whiche  is  neither  the  part 
of  my  office,  nor  pleasaunt  to  your  eares,)  this  is  my  iudgement. 

True  and  vertuous  loue  is  to  be  grounded  vppon  Time,  Reason, 
Fauour  &  Uertue.     Time  to  make  trial,  not  at  the  first  glaunce  so  to 
settle  his  minde,  as  though  he  were  willing  to  be  caught,  when  he  10 
might  escape,  but  so  by  obseruation  and  experience,  to  builde  and 
augment  his  desires,  that  he   be  not  deceaued  with  beautie,   but 
perswaded  with  costancie.      Reason,  that  all  his  doings  and  pro 
ceedings  seeme  not  to  flowe  from  a  minde  enflamed  with  lust,  but 
a  true  hart  kindled  with  loue.     Fauour,  to  delight  his  eyes,  which  15 
are  the  first  messengers  of  affection,  Uertue  to  allure  the  soule,  for 
the  which  all  thinges  are  to  be  desired. 

The  arguments   of  faith  in   a   man,  are   constancie   not   to    be 
remoued,  secrecie  not  to  vtter,  securitie  not  to  mistrust,  credulitie 
to  beleeue :    in  a  woman  patience  to  endure,  ielousie  to  suspect,  20 
liberalise   to    bestowe,    feruency,    faithfulnes,    one    of    the    which 
braunches  if  either  the  man  want,  or  the  woman,  it  may  be  a  lyking 
betweene   them   for   the  time,  but  no  loue  to  continue  for  euer. 
Touching  SuHus  his  questio  whether  loue  come  from  the  man  or 
the  woman,  it  is  manifest  that  it  beginneth  in  both,  els  can  it  not  25 
ende  in  both. 

To  the  Lady  Flauias  demaunde  concerning  companie,  it  is 
requisite  they  shoulde  meete,  and  though  they  be  hindered  by 
diuers  meanes,  yet  is  it  impossible  but  that  they  will  meete. 

Philautus   must   this   thinke,    that    constancie   without    secrecie  30 
auaileth  little,  and  secrecie  without  constancie  profiteth  lesse. 

Thus  haue  I  good  maddame  according  to  my  simple  skill  in  loue 
set  downe  my  iudgement,  which  you  may  at  your  Ladishippes  plea 
sure  correcte,  for  hee  that  neuer  tooke  the  oare  in  hand  must  not 
think  scorne  to  be  taught.  Well  quoth  the  Lady,  you  can  say  more  35 
if  you  list,  but  either  you  feare  to  offende  our  eares,  or  to  bewray 
your  owne  follies,  one  may  easily  perceiue  y*  you  haue  bene  of  late 

6  like  as  an  BEH  1617,  1630-36 :    like  as  as  F  n  so  by]  by  his  E  rest 

12  y*  before  that  A  14  enflame  A  15  true  om.  A  rest        with]  with 

with  A  29  it  is  E  rest          30  this]  thus  A  rest          34  the  om.  GE  rest 


EUPHUES  AND  HIS  ENGLAND  183 

in  the  painters  shop,  by  ye  colours  that  sticke  in  your  coate,  but  at 
this  time  I  will  vrge  nothing  though  I  suspect  somewhat. 

Surius  gaue  Euphues  thanks,  allowing  his  iudgmgt  in  the  descrip 
tion  of  loue,  especially  in  this,  y*  he  would  haue  a  woman  if  she  were 
5  faithful  to  be  also  ielious,  which  is  as  necessary  to  be  required  in 
them  as  constancie. 

Camilla  smiling  saide  that  Euphues  was  deceiued,  for  he  would 
haue  saide  that  men  should  haue  bene  ielious,  and  yet  that  had 
bene  but  superfluous,  for  they  are  neuer  otherwise. 

10  Philautus  thinking  Camilla  to  vse  that  speach  to  girde  him,  for 
that  all  that  night  he  vewed  hir  with  a  suspitious  eye,  answered  that 
ielousie  in  a  man  was  to  be  pardoned,  bicause  there  is  no  difference 
in  the  looke  of  a  louer,  that  can  distinguish  a  ielious  eye,  from 
a  louing. 

15  Frauncis  who  thought  hir  part  not  to  be  the  least,  saide  that  in  all 
thinges  Euphues  spake  gospel  sauing  in  that  he  bounde  a  woman  to 
patience,  which  is  to  make  them  fooles. 

Thus  euery  one  gaue  his  verdit,  and  so  with  thanks  to  the  Lady 
Flauia,  they  all  tooke  their  leaue  for  that  night.  Surius  went  to  his 

20  lodging,  Euphues  and  Philautus  to  theirs,  Camilla  accompaned  with 
hir  women  and  hir  wayting  maide,  departed  to  hir  home,  whome 
I  meane  to  bring  to  hir  chamber,  leauing  all  the  rest  to  their  rest 

Camilla  no  sooner  had  entred  in  hir  chamber,  but  she  began  in 
straunge  tearmes  to  vtter  this  straunge  tale,  hir  doore  being  cloose 

25  shutte,  and  hir  chamber  voyded. 

A  H  Camilla,  ah  wretched  wench  Camilla,  I  perceiue  nowe,  that 
when  the  Hoppe  groweth  high  it  must  haue  a  pole,  whe  ye 

luie   spreadeth,  it   cleaueth   to   ye  flint,  when   the   Uine  riseth  it 

wretheth  about  ye  Elme,  whe  virgins  wax  in  yeares,  they  follow  that 
30  which  belongeth  to  their  appetites,  loue, — loue?  Yea  loue  Camilla, 

the  force  whereof  thou  knowest  not,  and  yet  must  endure  the  furie. 

Where  is  that  precious  herbe  Panace  which    cureth  all  diseases  ? 

Or  that  herbe  Nepenthes  that  procureth  all  delights  ?     No  no  Camilla  : 

loue  is  not  to  bee  cured  by  herbes  which  commethI*by  fancy, 
35  neither  can  plaisters  take  away  the  griefe,  which  is  growen  so  great 

by  perswasions.      For  as  the  stone  Draconites  can  by  no  meanes  be 

i  your]  you  H  5>  T7  is]  was  GE  rest          10  such  E  rest          21  woman 

GE  rest  23  in  om.  GE  rest  24  cloose  om.  E  rest  29  wreatheth  AB  : 
dra%veth  E  rest  30  appeties  M  loue,  loue  ?  MAB :  loue,  loue.  E-H :  loue, 
loue,  1617-23:  loue,  loue;  1630-36  32  Panace  so  all  33  Nepenthe  E  rest 


1 84  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

polished  vnlesse  the  Lapidarie  burne  it,  so  the  mind  of  Camilla  can 
by  no  meanes  be  cured  except  Surius  ease  it. 

I  see  that  loue  is  not  vnlike  vnto  the  stone  Pansura,  which 
draweth  all  other  stones,  be  they  neuer  so  heauy,  hauing  in  it  the  three 
rootes  which  they  attribut  to  Musicke,  Mirth,  Melancholic,  Madnesse.  5 

I  but  Camilla  dissemble  thy  loue,  though  it  shorten  thy  lyfe,  for 
better  it  were  to  dye  with  griefe,  then  lyue  with  shame.  The  Spunge 
is  full  of  water,  yet  is  it  not  scene,  the  hearbe  Adyaton  though  it  be 
wet,  looketh  alwayes  drye,  and  a  wise  Louer  be  she  neuer  so  much 
tormented,  behaueth  hir  selfe  as  though  shee  were  not  touched.  10 
I  but  fire  can-not  be  hydden  in  the  flaxe  with-out  smoake,  nor 
Muske  in  the  bosome  with-out  smell,  nor  loue  in  the  breast  with-out 
suspition  :  Why  then  confesse  thy  loue  to  Surius,  Camilla,  who  is 
ready  to  ask  before  thou  graunt.  But  it  fareth  in  loue,  as  it  doth 
w*  the  roote  of  ye  Reede,  which  being  put  vnto  the  feme  taketh  15 
away  all  his  strength,  and  likewise  the  Roote  of  the  Feme  put  to  the 
Reede,  depriueth  it  of  all  his  force  :  so  the  lookes  of  Surius  hauing 
taken  all  freedome  from  the  eyes  of  Camilla,  it  may  be  the  glaunces 
of  Camilla  haue  bereaued  Surius  of  all  libertie,  which  if  it  wer  so, 
how  happy  shouldest  thou  be,  and  that  it  is  so,  why  shouldest  not  20 
thou  hope.  I  but  Surius  is  noble,  I  but  loue  regardeth  no  byrth, 
I  but  his  friendes  will  not  consent,  I  but  loue  knoweth  no  kindred, 
I  but  he  is  not  willing  to  loue,  nor  thou  worthy  to  bee  wooed,  I  but 
loue  maketh  the  proudest  to  stoupe,  and  to  court  the  poorest. 

Whylst  she  was  thus  debating,  one  of  hir  Maidens  chaunced  to  25' 
knocke,  which  she  hearing  left  off  that,  which  al  you  Gentlewome 
would  gladly  heare,  for  no  doubt  she  determined  to  make  a  long 
sermon,  had  not  she  beene  interrupted  :  But  by  the  preamble  you 
may  gesse  to  what  purpose  the  drift  tended.     This  I  note,  that  they 
that  are  most  wise,  most  vertuous,  most  beautiful,  are  not  free  from  30 
the   impressions    of  Fancy :    For   who   would   haue   thought    that 
Camilla,  who  seemed  to  disdaine  loue,  should  so  soone  be  entangled. 
But  as  ye  straightest  wands  are  to  be  bent  when  they  be  small,  so 
the  presisest  Uirgins  are  to  be  won  when  they  be  young.     But  I  will 
leaue  Camilla,  with  whose  loue  I  haue  nothing  to  meddle,  for  that  35 
it  maketh  nothing  to  my  matter.     And  returne  we  to  Euphues,  who 
must  play  the  last  parte. 

•*f>- 

i  of  Camilla  B  rest :   of  om.  MA  :    qy.  ?  thy  mind  Camilla  2  cursed  M 

3  Pantura  a/ feds.       4  heauy]  hauie  M      8  is  it]  it  is£  rest      Aditon  E  rest       15 
vnto]  into  E  rest      19  all]  his  E  rest      ao-J  thou  not  E  rest      34  precisest  A  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  185 

"C*  Vphues  bestowing  his   time  in   the    Courte,  began   t6   marke 

diligentlye  the  men,  and"  their  manners,,  not  as  one  curious 

to  misconster,  but  desirous   to   be  instructed.      Manye  dayes  hee 

vsed  speach  with  the  Ladyes,  sundrye  tymes  with  the  Gentle-women, 

5  with  all  became  so  familyar,  that  he  was  of  all  earnestly  beloued. 

Philautus  had  taken  such  a  smacke  in  the  good  entertainment  of 
the  Ladie  Flauia,  that  he  beganne  to  looke  askew  vppon  Camilla, 
driuing  out  the  remembrance  of  his  olde  loue,  with  the  recording 
of  the  new.  Who  now  but  his  violet,  who  but  Mistris  Fraunds,  whom 

10  if  once  euery  day  he  had  not  scene,  he  wold  haue  beene  so  solen, 
that  no  man  should  haue  scene  him. 

Euphues  who  watched  his  friend,  demaunded  how  his  loue  pro- 
ceded  with  Camilla,  vnto  whom  Philautus  gaue  no  aunswere  but 
a  smile,  by  the  which  Euphues  thought  his  affection  but  small.  At 

15  the  last  thinking  it  both  contrary  to  his  oth  and  his  honestie  to  con- 
ceale  anye  thinge  from  Euphues,  he  confessed,  that  his  minde  was 
chaunged  from  Camilla  to  Fraunds.  Loue  quoth  Euphues  will 
neuer  make  thee  mad,  for  it  commeth  by  fits,  not  like  a  quotidian, 
but  a  tertian. 

20  In  deede  quoth  Philautus,  if  euer  I  kill  my  selfe  for  loue,  it  shall 
be  with  a  sigh,  not  with  a  sworde. 

Thus  they  passed  the  time  many  dayes  in  England,  Euphues 
commonlye  in  the  court  to  learne  fashions,  Philautus  euer  in  the 
countrey  to  loue  Frauncis :  so  sweete  a  violet  to  his  nose,  that  he 

25  could  hardly  suffer  it  to  be  an  houre  from  his  nose. 

But  nowe  came  the  tyme,  that  Euphues  was  to  trye  Philautus 
trueth,  for  it  happened  that  letters  were  directed  from  Athens  to 
London,  concerning  serious  and  waightie  affayres  of  his  owne,  which 
incited  him  to  hasten  his  departure,  the  contentes  of  the  which  when 

30  he  had  imparted  to  Philautus,  and  requested  his  company,  his 
friende  was  so  fast  tyed  by  the  eyes,  that  he  found  thornes  in  his 
heele,  which  Euphues  knewe  to  be  thoughtes  in  his  heart,  and  by  no 
meanes  hee  could  perswade  him  to  goe  into  Italy,  so  sweete  was  the 
very  smoke  of  England. 

35  Euphues  knowing  the  tyde  would  tarrye  for  no  man,  and  seeing 
his  businesse  to  require  such  speede,  beeing  for  his  great  preferment, 
determined  sodeinly  to  departe,  yet  not  with-out  taking  of  his  leaue 
curteouslye,  and  giuing  thankes  to  all  those  which  since  his  comming 
had  vsed  him  friendlye  :  Which  that  it  myght  be  done  with  one 

32  thoughes  M 


1 86  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

breath,  hee  desired  the  Merchaunt  with  whome  all  this  while  he 
soiournied  to  inirite  a  great  number  to  dynner,  some  of  great  calling, 
manye  of  good  credit,  amonge  the  which  Surius  as  chiefe,  the  Ladie 
Flauia,  Camilla  and  Mistris  Frauncis  were  not  forgotten. 

The   time  being  come  of  meeting,  he  saluted  them  all  in  this  5 
manner. 

1  was  neuer  more  desirous  to  come  into  England  then  I  am  loth 
to  departe,  such  curtesie  haue  I  found,  which  I  looked  not  for,  and 
such  qualities  as  I  could  not  looke  for,  which  I  speake  not  to  flatter 
any,  when  in  trueth  it  is  knowne  to  you  all.     But  now  the  time  is  10 
come  that  Euphues  must  packe  from  those,  whome  he  best  loueth, 
and  go  to  the  Seas,  which  he  hardlye  brooketh. 

But  I  would  Fortune  had  delt  so  fauourable  with  a  poore  Grecian, 
that  he  might  haue  eyther  beene  borne  heere,  or  able  to  Hue  heere  : 
which  seeing  the  one  is  past  and  can-not  be,  the  other  vnlikly,  and  15 
therfore  not  easie  to  be,  I  must  endure  the  crueltie  of  the  one,  and 
with  patience  beare  the  necessitie  of  the  other. 

Yet  this  I  earnestly  craue  of  you  all,  that  you  wii  in  steede  of 
a  recompence  accept  thankes,  &  of  him  that  is  able  to  giue  nothing, 
take  prayer  for  payment.  What  my  good  minde  is  to  you  all,  my  20 
tongue  can-not  vtter,  what  my  true  meaning  is,  your  heartes  can-not 
conceiue  :  yet  as  occasion  shall  serue,  I  will  shewe  that  I  haue  not 
forgotten  any,  though  I  may  not  requit  one.  Philautus  not  wiser 
then  I  in  this,  though  bolder,  is  determined  to  tarry  behinde  :  for 
hee  sayth  that  he  had  as  liefe  be  buried  in  England,  as  married  in  25 
Italy  :  so  holy  doth  he  thinke  the  ground  heere,  or  so  homely  the 
women  ther,  whome  although  I  would  gladly  haue  with  me,  yet 
seeing  I  can-not,  I  am  most  earnestlye  to  request  you  all,  not  for  my 
sake,  who  ought  to  desire  nothing,  nor  for  his  sake  who  is  able  to 
deserue  little,  but  for  the  curtesies  sake  of  England,  that  you  vse  30 
him  not  so  well  as  you  haue  done,  which  wold  make  him  proud, 
but  no  worse  then  I  wish  him,  which  wil  make  him  pure :  for  thogh 
I  speak  before  his  face,  you  shall  finde  true  behinde  his  backe,  that 
he  is  yet  but  wax,  which  must  be  wrought  whilest  the  water  is  warme, 
and  yron  which  being  hot,  is  apt  either  to  make  a  key  or  a  locke.  35 

It  may  be  Ladies  and  Gentlewoemen  all,  that  though  England  be 
not  for  Euphues  to  dwell  in,  yet  it  is  for  Euphues  to  send  to. 

2  soiourned  B  rest         10  But]  For  E  rest         13  fauorably  E  rest          23  one] 
on  M  25  buried]  burned  GE  rest  33  it  before  true  1623  34  while 
E  rest           36  all  om.  E  rest           although  E  rest 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  187 

When  he  had  thus  sayd,  he  could  scarse  speake  for  weeping,  all 

the  companye  were  sorye  to  forgoe  him,  some  proffered  him  mony, 

some  lands,  some  houses,  but  he  refused  them  all,  telling  them  that 

not   the  necessitie   of  lacke   caused  him   not  to   departe,  but   of 

5  importance. 

This  done  they  sate  downe  all  to  dinner,  but  Euphues  could  not 
be  merry,  for  yfc  he  should  so  soone  depart,  ye  feast  being  ended, 
which  was  very  sumptuous,  as  Merchaunts  neuer  spare  for  cost, 
whe  they  haue  ful  coffers,  they  al  heartely  tooke  their  leaues  of 

10  Euphues,  Camilla  who  liked  verie  well  of  his  company,  taking  him 
by  the  hande,  desired  him  that  being  in  Athens,  he  woulde  not 
forget  his  friends  in  Englande,  and  the  rather  for  your  sake  quoth 
she,  your  friende  shalbe  better  welcome,  yea,  &  to  me  for  his 
owne  sake  quoth  Flauia,  where  at  Philautus  reioyced  and  Frauncis 

15  was  not  sorie,  who  began  a  little  to  listen  to  the  lure  of  loue. 

Euphues  hauing  all  thinges  in  a  redinesse  went  immediately 
toward  Douer,  whether  Philautus  also  accompanied  him,  yet  not 
forgetting  by  the  way  to  visite  the  good  olde  father  Fidus,  whose 
curtesie  they  receaued  at  their  comming.  Fidus  glade  to  see  them, 

20  made  them  great  cheare  according  to  his  abilitie,  which  had  it  beene 
lesse,  woulde  haue  bene  aunswerable  to  either  desires.  Much 
communication  they  had  of  the  court,  but  Euphues  cryed  quittance, 
for  he  saide  thinges  that  are  commonly  knowne  it  were  folly  to 
repeat,  and  secretes,  it  were  against  mine  honestie  to  vtter. 

2?  The  next  morning  they  went  to  Douer  where  Euphues  being 
readie  to  take  ship,  he  first  tooke  his  farewell  of  Philautus  in  these 
wordes. 

"V^Ifilautus  the  care  that  I  haue  had  of  thee,  from  time  to  time, 

hath  beene  tried  by  the  counsaile  I  haue  alwayes  giuen  thee, 

30  which  if  thou  haue  forgotten,  I  meane  no  more  to  write  in  water,  if 

thou  remember  imprint  it  still.     But  seeing  my  departure  from  thee 

is  as  it  were  my  death,  for  that  I  knowe  not  whether  euer  I  shall  see 

thee,  take  this  as  my  last  testament  of  good  will. 

Bee   humble   to   thy  superiours,  gentle   to   thy   equalls,    to   thy 
35  inferiours  fauourable,  enuie  not  thy  betters,  iustle  not  thy  fellowes, 
oppresse  not  the  poore. 

The  stipende  that  is  allowed  to  maintaine  thee  vse  wisely,  be 

2  promised  E  rest  4  not2  om.  A  rest  21  either]  their  B  rest  31 

still]  in  steele  E  rest  departing  E  rest  33  my  before  good  H  rest 


1 88  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

neither  prodigall  to  spende  all,  nor  couetous  to  keepe  all,  cut  thy 
coat  according  to  thy  cloth,  and  thinke  it  better  to  bee  accompted 
thriftie  among  the  wise,  then  a  good  companion  among  the  riotous. 

For  thy  studie  or  trade  of  life,  vse  thy  booke  in  the  morning,  thy 
bowe  after  dinner  or  what  other  exercise  shall  please  thee  best,  but  5 
alwayes  haue  an  eye  to  the  mayne,  what  soeuer  thou  art  chaunced 
at  the  buy. 

Let  thy  practise  be  lawe,  for  the  practise  of  Phisike  is  too  base 
for  so  fyne  a  stomacke  as  thine,  and  diuinitie  too  curious  for  so  fickle 
a  heade  as  thou  hast.  I0 

Touching  thy  proceedings  in  loue,  be  constant  to  one,  and  trie  but 
one,  otherwise  thou  shalt  bring  thy  credite  into  question,  and  thy 
loue  into  derision. 

Weane  thy  selfe  from  Camilla,  deale  wisely  with  Fraunds,  for  in 
Englande  thou  shalt  finde  those  that  will  decypher  thy  dealings  be  15 
they  neuer  so  politique,  be  secret  to  thy  selfe,  and  trust  none  in 
matters  of  loue  as  thou  louest  thy  life. 

Certifie  me  of  thy  proceedings  by  thy  letters,  and  thinke  that 
Euphues  cannot  forget  Philautus,  who  is  as  deare  to  mee  as  my  selfe. 
Commende  me  to  all  my  friendes  :  And  so  farewell  good  Philautus,  2° 
and  well  shalt  thou  fare  if  thou  followe  the  counsell  of  Euphues. 

"V^Hilautus  the  water  standing  in  his  -eyes,  not  able  to  aunswere 
one  worde,  vntill  he  had  well  wepte,  replyed  at  the  last  as  it 
were  in  one  worde,  saying,  that  his  counsaile  shoulde  bee  engrauen 
in  his  heart,  and  hee  woulde  followe  euerie  thing  that  was  pre-  25 
scribed  him,  certifying  him  of  his  successe  as  either  occasion,  or 
opportunitie  should  serue. 

But  when  friendes  at  departing  woulde  vtter  most,  then  teares 
hinder  most,  whiche  brake  off  both  his  aunswere,  and  stayde  Euphues 
replye,   so  after  many  millions  of  embracinges,    at   the   last   they  30 
departed.      Philautus  to  London  where  I  leaue  him,  Euphues  to 
Athens  where  I  meane  to  followe  him,  for  hee  it  is  that  I  am  to  goe 
with,  not  Philautus. 
HTHere   was   nothing   that   happened   on   the   Seas   worthie   the 

writing,  but  within  fewe  dayes  Euphues  hauing  a  merrye  winde  35 
arryued  at  Athens,  where  after  hee  had  visited  his  friendes,  and  set 

5  other  om.  H  rest  7  the  buy]  to  buy  E\  the  by  F:  the  bye  H  rest  18 
thy1]  the  M  proceeding  E  rest  (except  1623)  19  vnto  E  rest  23 

the  om.  E  rest  28  parting  GE  rest  29  breake  all  eds.  (aural  error} 

34  vpon  E  rest 


EUPHUES'   GLASS   FOR   EUROPE  189 

an  order  in  his  affayres,  he  began  to  addresse  his  letters  to  Liuia 
touching  the  state  of  Englande  in  this  manner. 

JIm'a  I  salute  thee  in  the  Lorde,  &c.     I  am  at  length  returned 
^•"^     out  of  Englande,  a  place  in  my  opinion  (if  any  such  may  be . 
5  in  the  earth)  not  inferiour  to  a  Paradise. 

I  haue  here  inclosed  sent  thee  the  discription,  the  manners,  the 
conditions,  the  gouernement  and  entertainement  of  that  countrie. 

I  haue  thought  it  good  to  dedicate  it  to  the  Ladies  of  Italy ',  if 
thou  thinke  it  worthy,  as  thou  cannest  not  otherwise,  cause  it  to  be 
10  imprinted,  that  the  praise  of  such  an  Isle,  may  cause  those  y*  dwell 
els  where,  both  to  commende  it,  and  maruell  at  it. 

Philautus  I  haue  left  behinde  me,  who  like  an  olde  dogge  fol- 
loweth  his  olde  sent,  loue,  wiser  he  is  then  he  was  woont,  but  as  yet 
nothing  more  fortunate.  I  am  in  helth,  and  that  thou  art  so,  I  heare 
15  nothing  to  the  contrarie,  but  I  knowe  not  ho  we  it  fareth  with  me, 
for  I  cannot  as  yet  brooke  mine  owne  countrie,  I  am  so  delighted 
with  another. 

Aduertise  me  by  letters  what  estate  thou  art  in,  also  howe  thou 
likest  the  state  of  Englande,  which    I    haue   sent   thee.     And   so 
20  farewell. 

Thine  to  vse  Euphues. 


To  the  Ladyes  and  Gentlewomen  of 

Italy :  Euphues  ivisheth  helth 

and  honour. 

25  T  F  I  had  brought  (Ladyes)  little  dogges  from  Malta,  or  straunge 

-L      stones  from  India,  or  fine  carpets  from  Turkie,  I  am  sure  that 

either  you  woulde  haue  woed  me  to  haue  them,  or  wished  to  see  them. 

But  I  am  come  out  of   Englande  with  a    Glasse,   wherein    you 

shall  behold  the  things  which  you  neuer  sawe,  and  maruel  at  the 

30  sightes  when  you  haue  scene.  Not  a  Glasse  to  make  you  beautiful, 
but  to  make  you  blush,  yet  not  at  your  vices,  but  others  vertues, 
not  a  Glasse  to  dresse  your  haires  but  to  redresse  your  harmes, 
by  the  which  if  you  euery  morning  correcte  your  manners,  being  as 
carefull  to  amend  faultes  in  your  hearts,  as  you  are  curious  to  finde 

5  a  om.  E  rest  23  Italy]  England  E  rest  30  when]  which  B  rest 

scene]  here  1630-36 


i9o  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

faults   in   your   heads,  you  shall  in  short  time  be  as  much  com 
mended  for  vertue  of  the  wise,  as  for  beautie  of  the  wanton. 

Yet  at  the  first  sight  if  you  seeme  deformed  by  looking  in  this 
glasse,  you  must  not  thinke  that  the  fault  is  in  the  glasse,  but  in 
your  maners,  not  resembling  Lama,  who  seeing  hir  beautie  in  a  5 
true  glasse  to  be  but  deformitie,  washed  hir  face,  and   broke  the 
glasse. 

Heere   shall  you  see  beautie  accompanyed  with  virginitie,  tem- 
peraunce,  mercie,  iustice,  magnanimitie,  and  all  other  vertues  what- 
soeuer,  rare  in  your  sex,  and  but  one,  and  rarer  then  the  Phoenix  10 
where  I  thinke  there  is  not  one. 

In  this  glasse  shall  you  see  that  the  glasses  which  you  carrye  in 
your  fannes  of  fethers,  shewe  you  to  be  lyghter  then  fethers,  that 
the  Glasses  wher-in  you  carouse  your  wine,  make  you  to  be  more 
wanton  then  Bacchus,  that  the  new  found  glasse  Cheynes  that  you  15 
weare  about  your  neckes,  argue  you  to  be  more  brittle  then 
glasse.  But  your  eyes  being  too  olde  to  iudge  of  so  rare  a  spectacle, 
my  counsell  is  that  you  looke  with  spectacles  :  for  ill  can  you  abyde 
the  beames  of  the  cleere,  Sunne,  being  skant'able  to  view  the 
blase  of  a  dymme  candell.  The  spectacles  I  would  haue  you  vse,  20 
are  for  the  one  eie  Judgment  with-out  flattering  your  selues,  for 
the  other  eye,  beliefe  with-out  mistrusting  of  mee. 

And  then  I  doubte  not  but  you  shall  both  thanke  mee  for  this 
Glasse  (which  I  sende  also  into  all  places  of  Europe)  and  thinke 
worse  of  your  garyshe  Glasses,  which  maketh  you  of  no  more  price  25 
then  broken  Glasses. 

Thus  fayre  Ladyes,  hoping  you  will  be  as  willing  to  prye  in  this 
Glasse  for  amendement  of  manners,  as  you  are  to  prancke  your 
selues  in  a  lookinge   Glasse,  for  commendation  of  menne,  I  wishe 
you  as  much  beautie  as  you  would  haue,  so  as    you  woulde  en-  30 
deuor  to  haue  as  much  vertue  as  you  should  haue.     And  so  farewell. 

Euphues. 

3  if  om.  M  5  Liuia  E  rest  8  you  shall  BE  rest  Q-IO  whatsouer  M 
it  where]  wherof  F rest  one]  two  E  rest  13  your  om.  E  rest  19  beame 
E  rest  25  makes  E  :  make  F  rest  28  Glasse]  glasses  H 


f  Euphues  Glassefor 
Europe. 

THere  is  an  Isle  lying  in  the  Ocean  Sea,  directly  against  that 
part  of  Fraunce,  which  contain  eth  Picardie  and  Normandie, 
5  called  now  England,  heeretofore  named  Britaine,   it  hath  Ireland 
vpon  the  West  side,  on  the  North  the  maine  Sea,  on  the  East  side, 
the   Germaine   Ocean.     This  Islande  is  in  circuit  1720.   myles,  in 
forme  like  vnto  a  Triangle,  beeing  broadest  in  the  South  part,  and 
gathering  narrower  and  narrower  till  it  come  to  the  farthest  poynt  of 

10  Cathnesse,  Northward,  wher  it  is  narrowest,  and  ther  endeth  in 
manner  of  a  Promonterie.  To  repeate  the  auncient  manner  of  this 
Island,  or  what  sundry  nations  haue  inhabited  there,  to  set  downe  the 
Giauntes,  which  in  bygnesse  of  bone  haue  passed  the  common  sise, 
and  almost  common  creditte,  to  rehearse  what  diuersities  of  Lan- 

15  guages  haue  beene  vsed,  into  how  many  kyngdomes  it  hath  beene 
deuided,  what  Religions  haue  beene  followed  before  the  comming 
of  Christ,  although  it  would  breede  great  delight  to  your  eares,  yet 
might  it  happily  seeme  tedious :  For  that  honnie  taken  excessiuelye 
cloyeth  the  stomacke  though  it  be  honnie. 

20  But  my  minde  is  briefly  to  touch  such  things  as  at  my  being  there 
I  gathered  by  myne  owne  studie  and  enquirie,  not  meaning  to  write  a 
Chronocle,  but  to  set  downe  in  a  word  what  I  heard  by  conference. 

It  hath  in  it  twentie  and  sixe  Cities,  of  the  which  the  chiefest 
is  named  London,  a  place  both  for  the  beautie  of  buyldinge,  in- 

25  finite  riches,  varietie  of  all  things,  that  excelleth  all  the  Cities  in 
the  world :  insomuch  that  it  maye  be  called  the  Store-house  and 
Marte  of  all  Europe.  Close  by  this  Citie  runneth  the  famous  Ryuer 
called  the  Theames,  which  from  the  head  wher  it  ryseth  named  Isis, 
vnto  the  fall  Middway  it  is  thought  to  be  an  hundred  and  forescore 

3°  myles.  What  can  there  be  in  anye  place  vnder  the  heauens,  that  is 
not  in  this  noble  Citie  eyther  to  be  bought  or  borrowed  ? 

It  hath  diuers  Hospitals  for  the  relieuing  of  the  poore,  six-scoie 
fay  re  Churches  for  diuine  seruice,  a  glory  ous  Burse  which  they  call 
the  Ryoll  Exchaung,  for  the  meeting  of  Merchants  of  all  countries 

6  vpon]  on  E  rest  side2  om.  E  rest  7  Germaine  ABG:  Germanic  ME: 
Germany  FHi6i 7:  German  1623  :  Germane  1630-31  Islade  M  10  Cath- 
nesse  so  all  13  bygnesse]  highnesse  BG  17  eyes  GE  rest  22  Chronicle 
ABE  rest :  Cronicle  G  28  Thames  BGE  rest  29  fall  middway  MAB  : 

full  middway  GE  rest  (cf.  note}        an]  one  E  rest        34  Royall  Exchange  A  rest 


i92  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

where  anye  traffique  is  to  be  had.  And  among  al  the  straung  and 
beautifull  showes,  mee  thinketh  there  is  none  so  notable,  as  the 
Bridge  which  crosseth  the  Theames,  which  is  in  manner  of  a  con- 
tinuall  streete,  well  replenyshed  with  large  and  stately  houses  on  both 
sides,  and  situate  vpon  twentie  Arches,  where-of  each  one  is  made  of  5 
excellent  free  stone  squared,  euerye  one  of  them  being  three-score 
foote  in  hight,  and  full  twentie  in  distaunce  one  from  an  other. 

To  this  place  the  whole  Realme  hath  his  recourse,  wher-by  it 
seemeth  so  populous,  that  one  would  scarse  think  so  many  people 
to  be  in  the  whole  Island,  as  he  shall  see  somtymes  in  London.  10 

This  maketh  Gentlemen  braue,  and  Merchaunts  rich,  Citisens  to 
purchase,  and  soiourns  to  morgage,  so  that  it  is  to  be  thought,  that 
the  greatest  wealth  and  substaunce  of  the  whole  Realme  is  couched 
with-in  the  walles  of  London,  where  they  that  be  rich  keepe  it  from 
those  that  be  ryotous,  not  deteining  it  from  the  lustie  youthes  of  15 
England  by  rigor,  but  encreasing  it  vntill  young  men  shall  sauor  of 
reason,  wherein  they  shew  them-selues  Tresurers  for  others,  not 
borders  for  the-selues,  yet  although  it  be  sure  enough,  woulde  they 
had  it,  in  my  opinion,  it  were  better  to  be  in  the  Gentle-mans  purse, 
then  in  the  Merchants  handes.  20 

There  are  in  this  Isle  two  and  twentie  Byshops,  which  are  as  it 
wer  superentedaunts  ouer  the  church,  men  of  great  zeale,  and 
deepe  knowledge,  diligent  Preachers  of  the  worde,  earnest  followers 
of  theyr  doctrine,  carefull  watchmenne  that  the  Woulfe  deuoure  not 
the  Sheepe,  in  ciuil  gouernment  politique,  in  ruling  the  spirituall  25 
sworde  (as  farre  as  to  them  vnder  their  Prince  apperteineth)  iust, 
cutting  of  those  members  from  the  Church  by  rigor,  that  are  obstinate 
in  their  herisies,  and  instructing  those  that  are  ignoraunt,  appoynt- 
ing  godlye  and  learned  Ministers  in  euery  of  their  Seas,  that  in  their 
absence  maye  bee  lightes  to  such  as  are  in  darkenesse,  salt  to  those  30 
that  are  vnsauorie,  leauen  to  such  as  are  not  seasoned. 

Uisitations  are  holden  oftentymes,  where-by  abuses  and  disorders, 
eyther  in  the  laitie  for  negligence,  or  in  the  clergie  for  superstition, 
of  in  al  for  wicked  liuing  there  are  punyshements,  by  due  execution 
wherof  the  diuine  seruice  of  God  is  honoured  with  more  puritie,  and  35 
followed  with  greater  sinceritie. 

2  thinkes  E  rest  3  Thames  GE  rest  in  a  manner  E :  in  ye  manner  F  rest 
6  stones  E  rest  12  soiourners  GF  rest :  soiournours  E  15  them  E  rest 
21  Hand  E  rest  25  in  ciuil]  the  Ciuil  EF\  in  the  Ciuill  H  rest  sprituall  M 
26  to]  in  GE  rest  27  their]  the  E  rest  29  Sees  E  rest  31  are  un 
seasoned  E  rest  34  al]  al,  MAB  there]  three  M 


EUPHUES'  GLASS  FOR  EUROPE  193 

There  are  also  in  this  Islande  two  famous  Uniuersities,  the  one 
Oxforde,  the  other  Cambridge,  both  for  the  profession  of  all  sciences, 
for  Diuinitie,  phisicke,  Lawe,  and  all  kinde  of  learning,  excelling  all 
the  Uniuersities  in  Christendome. 

5  I  was  my  selfe  in  either  of  them,  &  like  them  both  so  well,  that 
I  meane  not  in  the  way  of  controuersie  to  preferre  any  for  the  better 
in  Englande,  but  both  for  the  best  in  the  world,  sauing  this,  that 
Colledges  in  Oxenford  are  much  more  stately  for  the  building,  and 
Cambridge  much  more  sumptuous  for  the  houses  in  the  towne,  but 

10  the  learning  neither  lyeth  in  the  free  stones  of  the  one,  nor  the  fine 
streates  of  the  other,  for  out  of  them  both  do  dayly  proceede  men 
of  great  wisedome,  to  rule  in  the  common  welth,  of  learning  to 
instruct  the  common  people,  of  all  singuler  kinde  of  professions  to 
do  good  to  all.  And  let  this  suffice,  not  to  enquire  which  of  them 

15  is  the  superiour,  but  that  neither  of  them  haue  their  equall,  neither 
to  aske  which  of  them  is  the  most  auncient,  but  whether  any  other 
bee  so  famous. 

But  to  proceede  in  Englande,  their  buildings  are  not  very  stately 
vnlesse  it  be  the  houses  of  noble  men  and  here  &  there,  the  place  of 

20  a  Gentleman,  but  much  amended,  as  they  report  y*  haue  told  me. 
For  their  munition  they  haue  not  onely  great  stoore,  but  also  great 
cunning  to  vse  the,  and  courage  to  practise  them,  there  armour  is 
not  vnlike  vnto  that  which  in  other  countries  they  vse,  as  Corselets, 
Almaine  Riuetts,  shirts  of  male,  iacks  quilted  and  couered  ouer  with 

35  Leather,  Fustion,  or  Canuas,  ouer  thicke  plates  of  yron  that  are 
sowed  in  the  same. 

The  ordinaunce  they  haue  is  great,  and  thereof  great  store. 
Their  nauie  is  deuided  as  it  were  into  three  sorts,  of  the  which  the 
one  serueth  for  warres,  the  other  for  burthen,  the  thirde  for  fishermen. 

30  And  some  vessels  there  be  (I  knowe  not  by  experience,  and  yet  I  be- 
leeue  by  circumstance)  that  will  saile  nyne  hundered  myles  in  a  weeke, 
when  I  should  scarce  thinke  that  a  birde  could  flye  foure  hundred. 

Touching  other  commodities,  they  haue  foure  bathes,  the  first 
called  Saint  Vincents  :  the  seconde,  Hallie  well,  the  third  Buxton, 

35  the  fourth  (as  in  olde  time  they  reade)  Cair  Bledud,  but  nowe  taking 
his  name  of  a  town  neere  adioyning  it,  is  called  the  Bath. 

5  like]  like  of  E  rest  7  that]  y*  B  :  the  E  rest  8  Oxford  E  rest 

13  of2  om.  Erest,  except  1623  14  to  all]  withall  E  rest  15  neither2]  nor 

E  rest          22  their  A  rest          24  iackes  G  1630-36:  lackts  1623  26  in]  to 

GE  rest          29  burden  AB       thirde]  other  E  rest          30  I2  om.  E  rest         32 
could]  will  E  rest  33  other]  their  E  rest  35  they]  we  E  rest 

BOND  II  O 


194  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Besides  this  many  wonders  there  are  to  be  found  in  this  Island, 
which  I  will  not  repeat  bicause  I  my  selfe  neuer  sawe  them,  and  you 
haue  hearde  of  greater. 

Concerning  their  dyot,  in  number  of  dishes  and  chaug  of  meate, 
ye  nobilitie  of  England  do  exceed  most,  hauing  all  things  y*  either  5 
may  be  bought  for  money,  or  gotten  for  the  season  :  Gentlemen  and 
merchaunts  feede  very  finely,  &  a  poore  man  it  is  that  dineth  with 
one  dish,  and  yet  so  content  with  a  little,  that  hauing  halfe  dyned, 
they  say  as  it  were  in  a  prouerbe,  y*  they  are  as  well  satisfied  as  the 
Lorde  Maior  of  London  whom  they  think  to  fare  best,  though  he  10 
eate  not  most. 

In  their  meales  there  is  great  silence  and  grauitie,  vsing  wine 
rather  to  ease  the  stomacke,  then  to  load  it,  not  like  vnto  other 
nations,  who  neuer  thinke  y*  they  haue  dyned  till  they  be  dronken. 

The  attire  they  vse  is  rather  ledde  by  the  imitation  of  others,  then  15 
their  owne  inuention,  so  that  there  is  nothing  in  Englande  more 
constant,  then  the  inconstancie  of  attire,  nowe  vsing  the  French 
fashion,  nowe  the  Spanish,  then  the  Morisco  gownes,  the  one  thing, 
then  another,  insomuch  that  in  drawing  of  an  English  man  ye  paynter 
setteth  him  downe  naked,  hauing  in  ye  one  hande  a  payre  of  sheares,  20 
in  the  other  a  peece  of  cloath,  who  hauing  cut  his  collar  after  the 
french  guise  is  readie  to  make  his  sleeue  after  the  Barbarian  maner. 
And  although  this  were  the  greatest  enormitie  that  I  coulde  see  in 
Englande,  yet  is  it  to  be  excused,  for  they  that  cannot  maintaine  this 
pride  must  leaue  of  necessitie,  and  they  that  be  able,  will  leaue  when  25 
they  see  the  vanitie. 

The  lawes  they  vse  are  different  from  ours  for  although  the 
Common  and  Ciuil  lawe  be  not  abolished,  yet  are  they  not  had  in 
so  greate  reputation  as  their  owne  common  lawes  which  they  tearme 
the  lawes  of  the  Crowne.  30 

The  regiment  that  they  haue  dependeth  vppon  statute  lawe,  &  that 
is  by  Parlament  which  is  the  highest  court,  consisting  of  three  seueral 
sortes  of  people,  the  Nobilitie,  Clergie,  &  Commons  of  the  Realme, 
so  as  whatsoeuer  be  among  them  enacted,  the  Queene  striketh  the 
stroke,  allowing  such  things  as  to  hir  maiesty  seemeth  best.  Then  35 
vpon  common  law,  which  standeth  vpon  Maximes  and  principles, 

i  Besides  .  .  .  Island]  Besides,  in  this  Hand  are  many  wonders  to  be  founde  E 
rest  2  you]  I  E  rest  5  of  before  all  H  rest  14  vntill  E  rest  20  ye 

om.  E  rest  21  peech //  collar  E  rest :  cholerJ/^:  cholar/?^  23  were] 
weare  E  24  it  is  A  28  Common  all eds. :  qy.  /Canon  29  tearmes  1617 
34  King  ^(1609)  rest  35  his  H  rest 


EUPHUES'   GLASS   FOR  EUROPE  195 

yeares  &  tearmes,  the  cases  in  this  lawe  are  called  plees,  or  actions, 
and  they  are  either  criminall  or  ciuil,  ye  meane  to  determine  are 
writts,  some  originall,  some  iudiciall :  Their  trials  &  recoueries  are 
either  by  verdect,  or  demur,  confession  or  default,  wherin  if  any 

5  fault  haue  beene  committed,  either  in  processe  or  forme,  matter  or 
Judgement,  the  partie  greeued  may  haue  a  write  of  errour. 

Then  vpon  customable  law,  which  consisteth  vppon  laudable  cus- 
tomes,  vsed  in  some  priuate  countrie. 

Last  of  all  vppon  prescription,  whiche  is  a  certeine  custome  continued 

10  time  out  of  minde,but  it  is  more  particuler  then  their  customary  lawe. 
Murtherers  &  theeues  are  hanged,  witches  burnt,  al  other  villanies 
that  deserue  death  punished  w*  death,  insomuch  that  there  are  very 
fewe  haynous  offences  practised  in  respecte  of  those  that  in  other 
countries  are  commonly  vsed. 

15  Of  sauage  beastes  and  vermyn  they  haue  no  great  store,  nor  any 
that  are  noysome,  the  cattell  they  keepe  for  profite,  are  Oxen,  Horses, 
Sheepe,  Goats,  and  Swine,  and  such  like,  whereof  they  haue  abun 
dance,  wildfole  and  fish  they  want  none,  nor  any  thing  that  either 
may  serue  for  pleasure  or  profite. 

20  They  haue  more  store  of  pasture  then  tillage,  their  meddowes 
better  then  their  corne  field,  which  maketh  more  grasiors  then 
Cornemungers,  yet  sufficient  store  of  both. 

They  excel  for  one  thing,  there  dogges  of  al  sorts,  spanels,  hounds, 
maistiffes,  and  diuers  such,  the   one   they  keepe  for  hunting  and 

25  hawking,  the  other  for  necessarie  vses  about  their  houses,  as  to  drawe 
water,  to  watch  theeues,  &c.  and  there-of  they  deriue  the  worde 
mastiffe  of  Mase  and  thiefe. 

There  is  in  that  Isle  Salt  made,  &  Saffron,  there  are  great  quarries 
of  stone  for  building,  sundrie  minerals  of  Quicksiluer,  Antimony, 

30  Sulphur,  blacke  Lead  and  Orpiment  redde  and  yellowe.  Also  there 
groweth  ye  finest  Alum  y*  is,  Uermilion,  Bittament,  Chrisocolla, 
Coporus,  the  mineral  stone  whereof  Petreolum  is  made,  and  that 
which  is  most  straunge,  the  minerall  pearle,  which  as  they  are  for 
greatnesse  and  coulour  most  excellent,  so  are  they  digged  out  of  the 
-35  maine  lande,  in  places  farre  distant  from  the  shoare. 

i  Pleas  E  rest          3  triall  E  rest  4  verdit  A  rest,  except  verdict  F          6 

writ  B  rest  9  vppon  om.  E  rest          10  customable  E  rest  17  and1  om. 

Frest  18  wildefoule  A-F:  Wilde  fowle  ^-1636  21  fields  B  rest 

23  their  A  rest  Spaniels  B  rest  24  maistifts  A  :  mastifs  B\  Mastifes  EF\ 
Maistifes  H :  Mastiffes  1617  rest  for]  of  E  27  Mastife  BE-H  29 

stones  BG         buildings  E  rest  31  Allnm  AB  :  Allom  E  rest         Bittamen 

E  rest  32  Coperus  G:  Coporas  Frest  Tetrolium  E  rest 

O  2 


J96  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Besides  these,  though  not  straunge,  yet  necessarie,  they  haue  Cole 
mines,  salt  Peter  for  ordinance,  Salt  Sode  for  Glasse. 

They  want  no  Tinne  nor  Leade,  there  groweth  Yron,  Steele  and 
Copper,  and  what  not,   so  hath  God  blessed  that  countrie,  as  it 
shoulde   seeme   not   onely  to  haue   sufficient   to  serue  their  owne  5 
turnes,  but  also  others  necessities,  whereof  there  was  an  olde  saying, 
all  countries  stande  in  neede  of  Britaine,  and  Britaine  of  none. 

Their  Aire  is  very  wholsome  and  pleasant,  their  ciuilitie  not  in- 
feriour  to  those  that  deserue  best,  their  wittes  very  sharpe  and  quicke, 
although  I  haue  heard  that  the  Italian  and  the  French-man  have  ac- 10 
compted  them  but  grose  and  dull  pated,  which  I  think  came  not  to 
passe  by  the  proofe  they  made  of  their  wits,  but  by  the  Englishmans 
reporte. 

For  this  is  straunge  (and  yet  how  true  it  is  there  is  none  that  euer 
trauailed  thether  but  can  reporte)  that  it  is  alwayes  incident  to  an  15 
English-man,  to  thinke  worst  of  his  owne  nation,  eyther  in  learning, 
experience,  commo  reason,  or  wit,  preferring  alwaies  a  straunger 
rather  for  the  name,  then  the  wisdome.  I  for  mine  owne  parte  thinke, 
that  in  all  Europe  there  are  not  Lawyers  more  learned,  Diuines  more 
profound,  Phisitions  more  expert,  then  are  in  England.  20 

But  that  which  most  allureth  a  straunger  is  their  curtesie,  their 
ciuilitie,  &  good  entertainment.  I  speake  this  by  experience,  that 
I  found  more  curtesie  in  England  among  those  I  neuer  knewe,  in 
one  yeare,  then  I  haue  done  in  Athens  or  Italy  among  those  I  euer 
loued,  in  twentie.  25 

But  hauing  entreated  sufficiently  of  the  countrey  and  their  condi 
tions,  let  me  come  to  the  Glasse  I  promised  being  the  court,  where 
although  I  should  as  order  requireth  beginne  with  the  chiefest,  yet 
I  am  enforced  with  the  Painter,  to  reserue  my  best  coulors  to  end 
Venus,  and  to  laie  the  ground  with  the  basest.  30 

First  then  I  must  tell  you  of  the  graue  and  wise  Counsailors,  whose 
foresight  in  peace  warranteth  saftie  in  warre,  whose  prouision  in 
plentie,  maketh  sufficient  in  dearth,  whose  care  in  health  is  as  it 
were  a  preparatiue  against  sicknesse,  how  great  their  wisdom  hath 
beene  in  all  things,  the  twentie  two  yeares  peace  doth  both  shew  35 
and  proue.  For  what  subtilty  hath  ther  bin  wrought  so  closly,  what 
priuy  attempts  so  craftily,  what  rebellions  stirred  vp  so  disorderly, 

3  no]  neither  E  rest  4  that]  the  F  rest  9  vnto  E  rest  II  pated] 

paced  E  16  worse  E  rest  25  yeeres  after  twentie  E  rest  27  in 

before  the2  E  rest  29  forced  E  rest  35  both]  best  E  rest 


EUPHUES'  GLASS   FOR  EUROPE  197 

but  they  haue  by  policie  bewrayed,  preuented  by  wisdome,  repressed 
by  iustice  ?  What  conspiracies  abroad,  what  confederacies  at  home, 
what  iniuries  in  anye  place  hath  there  beene  contriued,  the  which  they 
haue  not  eyther  fore-seene  before  they  could  kindle,  or  quenched 
5  before  they  could  flame  ? 

If  anye  wilye  Vlysses  should  faine  maddnesse,there  was  amonge  them 
alwayes  some  Palamedes  to  reueale  him,  if  any  Thetis  went  about  to 
keepe  hir  sonne  from  the  doing  of  his  countrey  seruice,  there  was 
also  a  wise  Vlysses  in  the  courte  to  bewraye  it :  If  Sinon  came  with 

10  a  smoothe  tale  to  bringe  in  the  horse  into  Troye,  there  hath  beene 
alwayes  some  couragious  Laocoon  to  throwe  his  speare  agaynst  the 
bowelles,  whiche  beeing  not  bewitched  with  Laocoon,  hath  vnfoulded 
that,  which  Laocoon  suspected. 

If  Argus  with  his  hundred  eyes  went  prying  to  vndermine  lupiter, 

15  yet  met  he  with  Mercuric,  who  whiselled  all  his  eyes  out :  in-somuch 
as  ther  coulde  neuer  yet  any  craft  preuaile  against  their  policie,  or 
any  chalenge  against  their  courage.  There  hath  alwayes  beene 
Achilles  at  home,  to  buckle  with  Hector  abroad,  Nestors  grauitie  to 
counteruaile  Priams  counsail,  Vlisses  subtilties  to  mach  with  Antenors 

20  policies.  England  hath  al  those,  y*  can  and  haue  wrestled  with  al 
others,  wher-of  we  can  require  no  greater  proofe  then  experience. 

Besides  they  haue  al  a  zelous  care  for  the  encreasing  of  true 
religio,  whose  faiths  for  the  most  part  hath  bin  tried  through  the 
fire,  which  they  had  felt,  had  not  they  fledde  ouer  the  water.  More- 

35  -ouer  the  great  studie  they  bend  towards  schooles  of  learning,  doth 
sufficiently  declare,  that  they  are  not  onely  furtherers  of  learning, 
but  fathers  of  the  learned.  O  thrise  happy  England  where  such 
Counsaylours  are,  where  such  people  Hue,  where  such  vertue 
springeth. 

30  Amonge  these  shall  you  finde  Zopirus  that  will  mangle  him-selfe 
to  do  his  country  good,  Achates  that  will  neuer  start  an  ynch  from 
his  Prince  Aeneas,  Nausicaa  that  neuer  wanted  a  shift  in  extre- 
mitie,  Cato  that  euer  counsayled  to  the  best,  Ptolomeus  Philadel- 
phus  that  alwaies  maintained  learning.  Among  the  number  of  all 

3  hath  there]  hath  at  any  time  E :   haue  at  any  time  F  rest  4,  5  they]  it 

E  rest  7  alwayes  om.  E  rest  8  his]  her  E  rest  9  Vylisses  A  n,  12,  13 
Lacaon  all  eds.  u  thrust  E  rest  15  whisteled  GE  rest  18  Achillis  M 
19  match  A  rest  20  al2  om.  E  rest  23  hath]  haue  F  rest  24  not 

they]  they  not  E  rest  30  Zophirus  F  rest  31  Atchates  AB  32  Nausicla 
all  eds.  his  after  in  E  rest  33  vnto  E  rest  Ptholomeus  AB  rest 

Philodelphus  E  rest,  except  1623 


198  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

which  noble  and  wise  counsailors,  (I  can-not  but  for  his  honors  sake 
remember)  the  most  prudent  &  right  honourable  ye  Lorde  Burgleigh, 
high  Treasurer  of  that  Realme,  no  lesse  reuerenced  for  his  wisdome, 
than  renowmed  for  his  office,  more  loued  at  home  then  feared  abroade, 
and  yet  more  feared  for  his  counsayle  amonge  other  nations,  then  5 
sworde  or  fyre,  in  whome  the  saying  of  Agamemnon  may  be  verified, 
who  rather  wished  for  one  such  as  Nestor,  then  many  such  as  Aiax. 

This  noble  man  I  found  so  ready  being  but  a  straunger,  to  do  me 
good,  that  neyther  I  ought  to  forget  him,  neyther  cease  to  pray  for 
him,  that  as  he  hath  the  wisdome  of  Nestor,  so  he  may  haue  the  10 
age,  that  hauing  the  policies  of  Vlysses,  he  may  haue  his  honor, 
worthye  to  lyue  long,  by  whome  so  manye  lyue  in  quiet,  and  not 
vnworthy  to  be  aduaunced,  by  whose  care  so  many  haue  beene 
preferred. 

Is  not  this  a  Glasse  fayre  Ladyes  for  all  other  countrie  to  beholde,  15 
wher  there  is  not  only  an  agreement  in  fayth,  religion,,  and  counsayle, 
but  in  friend-shyppe,  brother-hoode  and  lyuing?     By  whose  good 
endeuours  vice  is  punyshed,  vertue   rewarded,  peace   establyshed, 
forren  broyles  repressed,  domesticall  cares  appeased  ?   what  nation 
can  of  Counsailors  desire  more  ?  what  Dominion,  yfc  excepted,  hath  20 
so  much  ?  whe  neither  courage  can  preuaile  against  their  chiualrie, 
nor  craft  take  place  agaynst  their  counsayle,  nor  both  ioynde  in  one 
be  of  force  to  vndermine  their  country,  when  you  haue  daseled  your 
eies  with  this  Glasse,  behold  here  an  other.     It  was  my  fortune  to 
be  acquaited  with  certaine  English  Gentlemen,  which  brought  mee  25 
to  the  court,  wher  when  I  came,  I  was  driuen  into  a  maze  to  behold 
the  lusty  &  braue  gallants,  the  beutiful  &  chast  Ladies,  ye  rare  & 
godly  orders,  so  as  I  could  not  tel  whether  I  should  most  comend 
vertue  or  brauery.     At  the  last  coming  oftner  thether,  then  it  be 
seemed  one  of  my  degree,  yet  not  so  often  as  they  desired  my  30 
company,  I  began  to  prye  after  theyr  manners,  natures,  and  lyues, 
and  that  which  followeth  I  saw,  where-of  who  so  doubteth,  I  will 
sweare. 

The  Ladyes  spend  the  morning  in  deuout  prayer,  not  resembling 
the  Gentlewoemen  in   Greece  &  Italy,  who  begin  their  morning  at  35 
midnoone,  and  make  their  euening  at  midnight,  vsing  sonets  for 
psalmes,  &  pastymes   for   prayers,  reading  ye  Epistle  of  a  Louer, 

i  which  .  .  .  wise]  wise,  noble,  and  which  E  rest,  except  wise  noble,  and  with 
1623  9  neyther  1]  I  neither  F  rest,  except  I  neuer  1623  15  other 

om.  E  rest  countrys  A  rest  21  Chiualries  H  rest  28  goodly  E  rest 

31  manners  .  .  .  lyues]  manners,  and  natures,  E  rest 


EUPHUES'   GLASS   FOR   EUROPE  199 

when  they  should  peruse  the  Gospell  of  our  Lorde,  drawing  wanton 
lynes  when  death  is  before  their  face,  as  Archimedes  did  triangles  & 
circles  when  the  enimy  was  at  his  backe.  Behold  Ladies  in  this 
glasse,  that  the  seruice  of  God  is  to  be  preferred  before  all  things, 
5  imitat  the  Englysh  Damoselles,  who  haue  theyr  bookes  tyed  to  theyr 
gyrdles,  not  fethers,  who  are  as  cunning  in  ye  scriptures,  as  you  are 
in  Ariosto  or  Petrarck  or  anye  booke  that  lyketh  you  best,  and 
becommeth  you  worst. 

For  brauery  I  cannot  say  that  you  exceede  them,  for  certainly 

10  it  is  ye  most  gorgious  court  that  euer  I  haue  scene,  read,  or  heard 
of,  but  yet  do  they  not  vse  theyr  apperell  so  nicelye  as  you  in  Italy, 
who  thinke  scorn  to  kneele  at  seruice,  for  feare  of  wrinckles  in  your 
silks,  who  dare  not  lift  vp  your  head  to  heaue,  for  feare  of  rupling  ye 
rufs  in  your  neck,  yet  your  hads  I  cofesse  are  holden  vp,  rather 

15  I  thinke  to  shewe  your  ringes,  then  to  manifest  your  righteousnesse. 
The  biauerie  they  vse  is  for  the  honour  of  their  Prince,  the  attyre 
you  weare  for  the  alluring  of  your  pray,  the  ritch  apparell  maketh 
their  beautie  more  scene,  your  disguising  causeth  your  faces  to  be 
more  suspected,  they  resemble  in  their  rayment  the  Estrich  who  being 

20  gased  on,  closeth  hir  winges  and  hideth  hir  fethers,  you  in  your  robes 
are  not  vnlike  the  pecocke,  who  being  praysed  spreadeth  hir  tayle, 
and  bewrayeth  hir  pride.  Ueluetts  and  Silkes  in  them  are  like  golde 
about  a  pure  Diamond,  in  you  like  a  greene  hedge,  about  a  filthy 
dunghill.  Thinke  not  Ladies  that  bicause  you  are  decked  with 

25  golde,  you  are  endued  with  grace,  imagine  not  that  shining  like  the 
Sunne  in  earth,  yea  shall  climbe  the  Sunne  in  heauen,  looke  diligently 
into  this  English  glasse,  and  then  shall  you  see  that  the  more  costly 
your  apparell  is,  the  greater  your  curtesie  should  be,  that  you  ought 
to  be  as  farre  from  pride,  as  you  are  from  pouertie,  and  as  neere  to 

30  princes  in  beautie,  as  you  are  in  brightnes.  Bicause  you  are  braue, 
disdaine  not  those  that  are  base,  thinke  with  your  selues  that  russet 
coates  haue  their  Christendome,  that  the  Sunne  when  he  is  at  his 
hight  shineth  aswel  vpon  course  carsie,  as  cloth  of  tissue,  though  you 
haue  pearles  in  your  eares,  lewels  in  your  breastes,  preacious  stones 

35  on  your  fingers,  yet  disdaine  not  the  stones  in  the  streat,  which 

2  Archimides  M        5-6  who  haue  theyr fethers  om.  E  rest  7  or1] 

and  E  rest  Petrarck  E:    Petrack  M-G  :    Petrark  Frest  9  certaine 

E  rest  10  gorgious  GE  rest :   gorgeoust  MAB  12  your]  their  E  rest 

13  lift]  life  H  heads  £  rest  1 7  the 2 J  their  F  rest  19  garments  E  rest 
26  yea]  ye  E  rest  30  in2]  for  E  rest  32-3  at  the  highest  E  rest  33 
Kersie  1623  34  eares]  eyes  E  rest 


206  EUPHUES  AND  HIS   ENGLAND 

although  they  are  nothing  so  noble,  yet  are  they  much  more  neces- 
sarie.  Let  not  your  robes  hinder  your  deuotion,  learne  of  the  English 
Ladies,  y*  God  is  worthy  to  be  worshipped  with  the  most  price,  to 
whom  you  ought  to  giue  all  praise,  then  shall  you  be  like  stars  to  ye 
wise,  who  now  are  but  staring  stockes  to  the  foolish,  the  shall  you  be  5 
praysed  of  most,  who  are  now  pointed  at  of  all,  then  shall  God  beare 
with  your  folly,  who  nowe  abhorreth  your  pride. 

As  the  Ladies  in  this  blessed  Islande  are  deuout  and  braue,  so  are 
they  chast  and  beautifull,  insomuch  that  when  I  first  behelde  them, 
I  could  not  tell  whether  some  mist  had  bleared  myne  eyes,  or  some  10 
strang  enchauntment  altered  my  minde,  for  it  may  bee,  thought  I,  that 
in  this  Islad,  either  some  Artemidorus  or  Lisimandro,  or  some  odd 
Nigromancer  did  inhabit,  who  would  shewe  me  Fayries,  or  the  bodie 
of  Helen,  or  the  new  shape  of  Venus,  but  comming  to  my  selfe,  and 
seeing  that  my  sences  were  not  chaunged,  but  hindered,  that  the  15 
place  where  I  stoode  was  no  enchaunted  castell,  but  a  gallant  court, 
I  could  scarce  restraine  my  voyce  fro  crying,  There  is  no  beautie  but 
in  Englad.     There  did  I  behold  the  of  pure  complexion,  exceeding 
the  lillie,  &  the  rose,  of  fauour  (wherein  ye  chiefest  beautie  consisteth) 
surpassing  the  pictures  that  were  feyned,  or  the  Magition  that  would  20 
faine,  their  eyes  percing  like  the  Sun  beames,  yet  chast,  their  speach 
pleasant  &  sweete,  yet  modest  &  curteous,  their  gate  comly,  their 
bodies  straight,  their  hands  white,  al  things  that  man  could  wish,  or 
women  woulde  haue,  which  howe  much  it  is,  none  can  set  downe, 
when  as  ye  one  desireth  as  much  as  may  be,  the  other  more.     And  25 
to  these  beautifull  mouldes,  chast  minds  :    to  these  comely  bodies 
teperance,  modestie,   mildenesse,  sobrietie,  whom  I  often   beheld, 
merrie  yet  wise,  conferring  with  courtiers  yet  warily  :  drinking  of  wine 
yet  moderately,  eating  of  delicats  yet  but  their  eare  ful,  listing  to 
discourses  of  loue  but  not  without  reasoning  of  learning  :  for  there  it  30 
more  delighteth  them  to  talke  of  Robin  hood,  then  to  shoot  in  his 
bowe,  &  greater  pleasure  they  take,  to  heare  of  loue,  then  to  be  in 
loue.     Heere  Ladies  is  a  Glasse  that  will  make  you  blush  for  shame, 
&  looke  wan  for  anger,  their  beautie  commeth  by  nature,  yours  by 
art,  they  encrease  their  fauours  with  faire  water,  you  maintaine  yours  35 
with  painters  colours,  the  haire  they  lay  out  groweth  vpon  their  owne 
heads,  your  seemelines  hangeth  vpon  others,  theirs  is  alwayes  in  their 

2  your2]  you  EF  3  the  om.  E  rest  12  Artimedorus  M-G:  Artimidorus 
EF  1630-36  :  Artimodorus  ^-1623  22  gate]  grace  E  rest  23  men  E  rest 
26  minds  to  M  these2]  the  F  rest  29  eare]  eares  E  rest  lystning 

A  rest  32  of  om.  H  rest  34  wan]  pale  F  rest 


EUPHUES'  GLASS   FOR  EUROPE  201 

Owne  keeping,  yours  often  in  the  Dyars,  their  bewtie  is  not  lost  with 
a  sharpe  blast,  yours  fadeth  with  a  soft  breath  :  Not  vnlike  vnto  Paper 
Floures,  which  breake  as  soone  as  they  are  touched,  resembling  the 
birds  in  Aegypt  called  Ibes,  who  being  handled,  loose  their  feathers, 
5  or  the  serpent  Serapie,  which  beeing  but  toucht  with  a  brake, 
bursteth.  They  vse  their  beautie,  bicause  it  is  commendable,  you 
bicause  you  woulde  be  common,  they  if  they  haue  little,  doe  not 
seeke  to  make  it  more,  you  that  haue  none  endeauour  to  bespeake 
most,  if  theirs  wither  by  age  they  nothing  esteeme  it,  if  yours  wast  by 

10  yeares,  you  goe  about  to  keepe  it,  they  knowe  that  beautie  must 
faile  if  life  continue,  you  sweare  that  it  shall  not  fade  if  coulours 
last. 

But  to  what  ende  (Ladies)  doe  you  alter  the  giftes  of  nature,  by 
the  shiftes  of  arte  ?     Is  there  no  colour  good  but  white,  no  Planet 

15  bright  but  Venus,  no  Linne  faire  but  Lawne  ?  Why  goe  yee  about 
to  make  the  face  fayre  by  those  meanes,  that  are  most  foule,  a  thing 
loathsome  to  man,  and  therefore  not  louely,  horrible  before  God,  and 
therefore  not  lawefull. 

Haue  you  not  hearde  that  the  beautie  of  the  Cradell  is  most 

20  brightest,  that  paintings  are  for  pictures  with  out  sence,  not  for 
persons  with  true  reason.  Follow  at  the  last  Ladies  the  Gentle 
women  of  England,  who  being  beautifull  doe  those  thinges  as  shall 
beecome  so  amyable  faces,  if  of  an  indifferent  hew,  those  things  as 
shall  make  them  louely,  not  adding  an  ounce  to  beautie,  that  may 

25  detract  a  dram  from  vertue.  Besides  this  their  chastitie  and  tem- 
parance  is  as  rare,  as  their  beautie,  not  going  in  your  footesteppes, 
that  drinke  wine  before  you  rise  to  encrease  your  coulour,  and  swill  it 
when  you  are  vp,  to  prouoke  your  lust :  They  vse  their  needle  to 
banish  idlenes,  not  the  pen  to  nourish  it,  not  spending  their  times  in 

30  answering  ye  letters  of  those  that  woe  them,  but  forswearing  the  com- 
panie  of  those  that  write  them,  giuing  no  occasion  either  by  wanton 
lookes,  vnseemely  gestures,  vnaduised  speach,  or  any  vncomly  be- 
hauiour,  of  lightnesse,  or  liking.  Contrarie  to  the  custome  of  many 
countries,  where  filthie  wordes  are  accompted  to  sauour  of  a  fine 

35  witte,  broade  speach,  of  a  bolde  courage,  wanton  glaunces,  of  a  sharpe 
eye  sight,  wicked  deedes,  of  a  comely  gesture,  all  vaine  delights,  of 
a  right  curteous  curtesie. 

i  in]  at  F  rest          4  Ibis  1630-36  8  but  before  you  E  rest          14  shiftes] 

gifts  E  rest  15  you  BE  rest  17  men  E  rest  22  as]  that  F  rest 

24  they  before  shall  M  an]  one  E  rest  30  those]  them  E  rest 


202  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

And  yet  are  they  not  in  England  presise,  but  wary,  not  disdainefull 
to  conferre,  but  careful  to  offende,  not  without  remorse  where  they 
perceiue  trueth,  but  wfcout  replying  where  they  suspect  trecherie,  when 
as  among  other  nations,  there  is  no  tale  so  lothsome  to  chast  eares 
but  it  is  heard  with  great  sport,  and  aunswered  with  great  speade.  5 

Is  it  not  then  a  shame  (Ladyes)  that  that  little  Island  shoulde  be 
a  myrrour  to  you,  to  Europe,  to  the  whole  worlde  ? 

Where  is  the  temperance  you  professe  when  wine  is  more  common 
then  water  ?  where  the  chastity  whe  lust  is  thought  lawful,  where  the 
modestie  when  your  mirth  turneth  to  vncleanes,  vncleanes  to  shame-  10 
lesnes,  shamelesnesse  to  al  sinfulnesse  ?  Learne  Ladies  though  late, 
yet  at  length,  that  the  chiefest  title  of  honour  in  earth,  is  to  giue  all 
honour  to  him  that  is  in  heauen,  that  the  greatest  brauerie  in  this 
worlde,  is  to  be  burning  lampes  in  the  worlde  to  come,  that  the 
clearest  beautie  in  this  life,  is  to  be  amiable  to  him  that  shall  giue  life  15 
eternall :  Looke  in  the  Glasse  of  England,  too  bright  I  feare  me  for 
your  eyes,  what  is  there  in  your  sex  that  they  haue  not,  and  what  that 
you  should  not  haue  ? 

They  are  in  prayer  deuoute,  in  brauery  humble,  in  beautie  chast, 
in  feasting  temperate,  in  affection  wise,  in  mirth  modest,  in  al  their  20 
actions    though    courtlye,    bicause   woemen,    yet  Aungels,   bicause 
virtuous. 

Ah  (good  Ladies)  good,  I  say,  for  that  I  loue  you,  I  would  yee 
could  a  little  abate  that  pride  of  your  stomackes,  that  loosenesse  of 
minde,  that  lycentious  behauiour  which  I  haue  seene  in  you,  with  no  25 
smal  sorowe,  and  can-not  remedy  with  continuall  sighes. 

They  in  England  pray  when  you  play,  sowe  when  you  sleep,  fast 
when  you  feast,  and  weepe  for  their  sins,  when  you  laugh  at  your 
sensualitie. 

They  frequent  the  Church  to  serue  God,  you  to  see  gallants,  they  30 
deck  them-selues  for  clenlinesse,  you  for  pride,  they  maintaine  their 
beautie  for  their  owne  lyking,  you  for  others  lust,  they  refraine  wine, 
bicause  they  fear  to  take  too  much,  you  bicause  you  can  take  no 
more.     Come  Ladies,  with  teares  I  call  you,  looke  in  this  Glasse, 
repent  your  sins  past,  refrain  your  present  vices,  abhor  vanities  to  35 
come,  say  thus  with  one  voice,  we  can  see  our  faults  only  in  the 
English  Glasse  :  a  Glas  of  grace  to  them,  of  grief  to  you,  to  them  in 

i  they  are  E  rest  2  fearefull  B  rest  4  talke  E  rest  9  your 

before  lust  E  rest  13  this]  the  E  rest  15  life2  om.  E  rest  17  your2] 

you^      they]  you /?  ra/         23  yee]  you  B  rest         27  sewe  F  rest         28  their] 
your  E  rest          34  into  EF          35  vice  H  rest          36  thus]  this  BE  rest 


EUPHUES'   GLASS   FOR   EUROPE  203 

the  steed  of  righteousnes,  to  you  in  place  of  repetance.  The  Lords 
&  Gentlemen  in  y*  court  are  also  an  example  for  all  others  to  folow, 
true  tipes  of  nobility,  the  only  stay  and  staf  to  honor,  braue  courtiers, 
stout  soldiers,  apt  to  reuell  in  peace,  and  ryde  in  warre.  In  fight 
5  fearce,  not  dreading  death,  in  friendship  firme,  not  breaking  promise, 
curteous  to  all  that  deserue  well,  cruell  to  none  that  deserue  ill. 
Their  aduersaries  they  trust  not,  that  sheweth  their  wisdome,  their 
enimies  they  feare  not,  that  argueth  their  courage.  They  are  not  apt 
to  proffer  iniuries,  nor  fit  to  take  any :  loth  to  pick  quarrels,  but 

10  longing  to  reuenge  them. 

Actiue  they  are  in  all  things,  whether  it  be  to  wrestle  in  the  games 
of  Olympia,  or  to  fight  at  Barriers  in  Palestra,  able  to  carry  as  great 
burthens  as  Milo,  of  strength  to  throwe  as  byg  stones  as  Turnus,  and 
what  not  that  eyther  man  hath  done  or  may  do,  worthye  of  such 

J5  Ladies,  and  none  but  they,  and  Ladies  willing  to  haue  such  Lordes, 
and  none  but  such. 

This  is  a  Glasse  for  our  youth  in  Greece,  for  your  young  ones  in 
Italy,  the  English  Glasse,  behold  it  Ladies  and  Lordes,  and  all,  that 
eyther  meane  to  haue  pietie,  vse  brauerie,  encrease  beautie,  or  that 

20  desire  temperancie,  chastitie,  witte,  wisdome,  valure,  or  any  thing  that 
may  delight  your  selues,  or  deserue  praise  of  others. 

But  an  other  sight  there  is  in  my  Glasse,  which  maketh  me  sigh 
for  griefe  I  can-not  shewe  it,  and  yet  had  I  rather  offend  in  derogating 
from  my  Glasse,  then  my  good  will. 

2 5  Blessed  is  that  Land,  that  hath  all  commodities  to  encrease  the 
common  wealth,  happye  is  that  Islande  that  hath  wise  counsailours 
to  maintaine  it,  vertuous  courtiers  to  beautifie  it,  noble  Gentle-menne 
to  aduaunce  it,  but  to  haue  suche  a  Prince  to  gouerne  it,  as  is  their 
Soueraigne  queene,  I  know  not  whether  I  should  thinke  the  people 

30  to  be  more  fortunate,  or  the  Prince  famous,  whether  their  felicitie  be 
more  to  be  had  in  admiration,  that  haue  such  a  ruler,  or  hir  vertues 
to  be  honoured,  that  hath  such  royaltie :  for  such  is  their  estat  ther, 
that  I  am  enforced  to  think  that  euery  day  is  as  lucky  to  the 
Englishmen,  as  the  sixt  daye  of  Februarie  hath  beene  to  the 

35  Grecians. 

But  I  see  you  gase  vntill  I  shew  this  Glasse,  which  you  hauing 

i  the  om.  A  rest  3  types  GF  rest  to]  of  B  rest  g  nor]  not 

F  rest  ii  are]  bee  E  rest  17-8  for  our  ...  it]  for  youth  in  Greece  and 

Italic,  behold  it  E  rest  18  Ladies  and  Lordes  all,  A  rest,  except  G  Ladies 

Lordes,  and  all  26  Islande]  land  E  rest  34  Englishman  E  rest 


204  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

once  scene,  wil  make  you  giddy :  Oh  Ladies  I  know  not  when  to 
begin,  nor  where  to  ende :  for  the  more  I  go  about  to  expresse  the 
brightnes,  the  more  I  finde  mine  eyes  bleared,  the  neerer  I  desire  to 
come  to  it,  the  farther  I  seme  from  it,  not  vnlike  vnto  Simonides,  who 
being  curious  to  set  downe  what  God  was,  the  more  leysure  he  tooke,  5 
the  more  loth  hee  was  to  meddle,  saying  that  in  thinges  aboue  reach, 
it  was  easie  to  catch  a  straine,  but  impossible  to  touch  a  Star :  and 
therfore  scarse  tollerable  to  poynt  at  that,  which  one  can  neuer  pull 
at.  When  Alexander  had  commaunded  that  none  shoulde  paint  him 
but  Appelles,  none  carue  him  but  Lysippus,  none  engraue  him  but  10 
Pirgoteles,  Parrhasius  framed  a  Table  squared,  euerye  way  twoo 
hundred  foote,  which  in  the  borders  he  trimmed  with  fresh  coulours, 
and  limmed  with  fine  golde,  leauing  all  the  other  roume  with-out 
knotte  or  lyne,  which  table  he  presented  to  Alexander,  who  no  lesse 
meruailing  at  the  bignes,  then  at  the  barenes,  demauded  to  what  15 
ende  he  gaue  him  a  frame  with-out  face,,  being  so  naked,  and  with-out 
fashion  being  so  great.  Parrhasius  aunswered  him,  let  it  be  lawful 
for  Parrhasius,  O  Alexander,  to  shew  a  Table  wherin  he  would  paint 
Alexander,  if  it  were  not  vnlawfull,  and  for  others  to  square  Timber, 
though  Lysippus  carue  it,  and  for  all  to  cast  brasse  though  Pirgoteles  20 
ingraue  it.  Alexander  perceiuing  the  good  minde  of  Parrhasius, 
pardoned  his  boldnesse,  and  preferred  his  arte  :  yet  enquyring  why 
hee  framed  the  table  so  bygge,  hee  aunswered,  that  hee  thought  that 
frame  to  bee  but  little  enough  for  his  Picture,  when  the  whole  worlde 
was  to  little  for  his  personne,  saying  that  Alexander  must  as  well  bee  25 
praysed,  as  paynted,  and  that  all  his  victoryes  and  vertues,  were  not 
for  to  bee  drawne  in  the  Compasse  of  a  Sygnette,  but  in  a  fielde. 

This  aunswer  Alexander  both  lyked  &  rewarded,  insomuch  that  it 
was  lawful  euer  after  for  Parrhasius  both  to  praise  that  noble  king 
and  to  paint  him.  30 

In  the  like  manner  I  hope,  that  though  it  be  not  requisite  that  any 
should  paynt  their  Prince  in  England,  that  can-not  sufficiently  perfect 
hir,  yet  it  shall  not  be  thought  rashnesse  or  rudenesse  for  Euphues, 
to  frame  a  table  for  Elizabeth,  though  he  presume  not  to  paynt  hir. 
Let  Apelles  shewe  his  fine  arte,  Euphues  will  manifest  his  faythfull  35 
heart,  the  one  can  but  proue  his  conceite  to  blase  his  cunning,  the 
other  his  good  will  to  grinde  his  coulours :  hee  that  whetteth  the 

2  or  £  rest  4  vnto]  to  E  rest  8  one]  none  F  rest  1 1  Pergotales 

GE  rest  Pharrasius  E  rest  1 3  roome  GE  rest  17,  18,  21,  29  Pharrasius  F 
rest  20  Pergoteles  G:  Pergotales  E  rest  27  for  om.  E  rest  Signet  A  rest 
28  that]  as  E  rest  31  the  om.  E  rest 


EUPHUES'  GLASS   FOR  EUROPE  205 

tooles  is  not  to  bee  misliked,  though  hee  can-not  carue  the  Image, 
the  worme  that  spinneth  the  silke,  is  to  be  esteemed,  though  she 
cannot  worke  the  sampler,  they  that  fell  tymber  for  shippes,  are  not 
to  be  blamed,  bicause  they  can-not  builde  shippes. 

5  He  that  caryeth  morter  furthereth  the  building,  though  hee  be 
no  expert  Mason,  hee  that  diggeth  the  garden,  is  to  be  considered, 
though  he  cannot  treade  the  knottes,  the  Golde-smythes  boye  must 
haue  his  wages  for  blowing  the  fire,  though  •  he  can-not  fashion  the 
lewell. 

10  Then  Ladyes  I  hope  poore  Euphues  shalt  not  bee  reuiled,  though 
hee  deserue  not  to  bee  rewarded. 

I  will  set  downe  this  Elizabeth,  as  neere  as  I  can  :  And  it  may  be, 
that  as  the  Venus  of  Apelles,  not  finished,  the  Tindarides  of  Nicho- 
machus  not  ended,  the  Medea  of  Timomachus  not  perfected,  the  table 

15  of  Parrhasius  not  couloured,  brought  greater  desire  to  them,  to  con- 
sumate  them,  and  to  others  to  see  them  :  so  the  Elizabeth  of  Euphues, 
being  but  shadowed  for  others  to  vernish,  but  begun  for  others  to 
ende,  but  drawen  with  a  blacke  coale,  for  others  to  blase  with  a  bright 
coulour,  may  worke  either  a  desire  in  Euphues  heereafter  if  he  Hue, 

20  to  ende  it,  or  a  minde  in  those  that  are  better  able  to  amende  it,  or 
in  all  (if  none  can  worke  it)  a  wil  to  wish  it.  In  the  meane  season 
I  say  as  Zeuxis  did  when  he  had  drawen  the  picture  of  Atalanta, 
more  wil  enuie  me  then  imitate  me,  and  not  commende  it  though 
they  cannot  amende  it.  But  I  come  to  my  England. 

25  There  were  for  a  long  time  ciuill  wars  in  this  coutrey,  by  reason  of 
seueral  claymes  to  the  Crowne,  betweene  the  two  famous  and  noble 
houses  of  Lancaster  and  Yorke,  either  of  them  pretending  to  be  of 
the  royall  bloude,  which  caused  them  both  to  spende  their  vitall 
bloode,  these  iarres  continued  long,  not  without  great  losse,  both 

30  to  the  Nobilitie  and  Comminaltie,  who  ioyning  not  in  one,  but  diuers 
parts,  turned  the  realme  to  great  ruine,  hauing  almost  destroyed  their 
countrey  before  they  coulde  annoynt  a  king. 

But  the  lyuing  God  who  was  loath  to  oppresse  England,  at  last 
began  to  represse  iniuries,  and  to  giue  an  ende  by  mercie,  to  those 

35  that  could  finde  no  ende  of  malice,  nor  looke  for  any  ende  of  mis- 
chiefe.  So  tender  a  care  hath  he  alwaies  had  of  that  England,  as  of 
a  new  Israel,  his  chosen  and  peculier  people. 


5  the  before  Morter  E  rest  13  Trindarides  EF  Nicomachus  ^- 

15  Pharrasius  F  rest          19  eitheir  M          22  Zeuxes^:  Xeuxes  -Fra*          25 
were]  was  E  rest        this]  the  GE  rest  37  peculier]  beloued  E  rest 


206  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

This  peace  began  by  a  marriage  solemnized  by  Gods  speciall 
prouidence,  betweene  Henrie  Earle  of  Ritchmond  heire  of  the  house 
of  Lancaster,  and  Elizabeth  daughter  to  Edward  the  fourth,  the 
vndoubted  issue  and  heire  of  the  house  of  Yorke,  where  by  (as  they 
tearme  it)  the  redde  Rose  and  the  white,  were  vnited  and  ioyned  5 
together.  Out  of  these  Roses  sprang  two  noble  buddes,  Prince 
Arthur  and  Henrie,  the  eldest  dying  without  issue,  the  other  of  most 
famous  memorie,  leauing  behinde  him  three  children,  Prince  Ed- 
warde,  the  Ladie  Marie,  the  Ladie  Elizabeth.  King  Edivarde  liued 
not  long,  which  coulde  neuer  for  that  Realme  haue  liued  too  long,  ip 
but  sharpe  frostes  bite  forwarde  springes,  Easterly  windes  blasteth 
towardly  blossoms,  cruell  death  spareth  not  those,  which  we  our  selues 
liuing  cannot  spare. 

The  elder  sister  the  Princes  Marie,  succeeded  as  next  heire  to  the 
crowne,  and  as  it  chaunced  nexte  heire  to  the  graue,  touching  whose  15 
life,  I  can  say  little  bicause  I  was  scarse  borne,  and  what  others  say, 
of  me  shalbe  forborne. 

This  Queene  being  deceased,  Elizabeth  being  of  the  age  of  xxij. 
yeares,  of  more  beautie  then  honour,  &  yet  of  more  honour  then  any 
earthly  creature,  was  called  from  a  prisoner  to  be  a  Prince,  from  the  20 
castell  to  the  crowne,  from  the  feare  of  loosing  hir  heade,  to  be 
supreame  heade.  And  here  Ladies  it  may  be  you  wil  moue  a  ques 
tion,  why  this  noble  Ladie  was  either  in  daunger  of  death,  or  cause 
of  distresse,  which  had  you  thought  to  haue  passed  in  silece,  I  would 
notwithstanding  haue  reueiled.  25 

This  Ladie  all  the  time  of  hir  sisters  reigne  was  kept  close,  as  one 
that  tendered  not  those  proceedings,  which  were  contrarie  to  hir 
conscience,  who  hauing  diuers  enemies,  endured  many  crosses,  but 
so  patietly  as  in  hir  deepest  sorrow,  she  would  rather  sigh  for  the 
libertie  of  the  gospel,  then  hir  own  freedome.  Suffering  hir  inferiours  3_o 
to  triumph  ouer  hir,  hir  foes  to  threate  hir,  hir  dissembling  friends  to 
vndermine  hir,  learning  in  all  this  miserie  onely  the  patience  that 
Zeno  taught  Eretricus  to  beare  and  forbeare,  neuer  seeking  reuenge 
but  with  good  Lycurgus,  to  loose  hir  owne  eye,  rather  then  to  hurt 
an  others  eye.  35 

But  being  nowe  placed  in  the  seate  royall,  she  first  of  al  established 
religion,  banished  poperie,  aduaunced  the  worde,  that  before  was  so 

3  to")  of  E  rest  u  blaste  F  rest  12  whom  E  rest  14  elder] 

eldest  E  rest  18  deseased  MAH  1617  :  disceased  B  20  be  om.  E  rest 

25  reuealed  B  rest,  <?;m?// reueled  1617  33  Ereticus  E  rest          36  stablished 

A  rest 


EUPHUES'  GLASS   FOR  EUROPE  207 

much  defaced,  who  hauing  in  hir  hande  the  sworde  to  reuenge,  vsed 
rather  bountifully  to  reward :  Being  as  farre  from  rigour  when  shee 
might  haue  killed,  as  hir  enemies  were  from  honestie  when  they 
coulde  not,  giuing  a  general  pardon,  when  she  had  cause  to  vse 
5  perticuler  punishments,  preferring  the  name  of  pittie  before  the 
remgbrance  of  perils,  thinking  no  reuenge  more  princely,  then  to 
spare  when  she  might  spill,  to  staye  when  she  might  strike,  to  profer 
to  saue  with  mercie,  when  she  might  haue  destroyed  with  iustice. 
Heere  is  the  clemencie  worthie  commendation  and  admiration, 

10  nothing  inferiour  to  the  gentle  disposition  oY  Aristides,  who  after 
his  exile  did  not  so  much  as  note  them  that  banished  him,  saying 
with  Alexander  that  there  can  be  nothing  more  noble  then  to  doe 
well  to  those,  that  deserue  yll. 

This  mightie  and  merciful  Queene,  hauing  many  bils  of  priuate 

.15  persons,  y*  sought  before  time  to  betray  hir,  burnt  them  all,  resem 
bling  Julius  C<zsar,  who  being  preseted  with  ye  like  complaints  of  his 
commos,  threw  them  into  ye  fire,  saying  that  he  had  rather,  not 
knowe  the  names  of  rebels,  then  haue  occasion  to  reueng,  thinking 
it  better  to  be  ignorant  of  those  that  hated  him,  then  to  be  angrie 

20  with  them. 

This  clemencie  did  hir  maiestie  not  onely  shew  at  hir  comming 
to  the  crowne,  but  also  throughout  hir  whole  gouernement,  when  she 
hath  spared  to  shedde  their  bloods,  that  sought  to  spill  hirs,  not 
racking  the  lawes  to  extremitie,  but  mittigating  the  rigour  with  mercy 

25  insomuch  as  it  may  be  said  of  yfc  royal  Monarch  as  it  was  of  Anto 
ninus,  surnamed  ye  godly  Emperour,  who  raigned  many  yeares  with- 
-out  the  effusion  of  blood.  What  greater  vertue  can  there  be  in  a 
Prince  then  mercy,  what  greater  praise  then  to  abate  the  edge  which 
she  should  whette,  to  pardon  where  she  shoulde  punish,  to  rewarde 

3°  where  she  should  reuenge. 

I  my  selfe  being  in  England  when  hir  maiestie  was  for  hir  recrea 
tion  in  her  Barge  vpon  ye  Thames,  hard  of  a  Gun  that  was  shotte  off 
though  of  the  partie  vnwittingly,  yet  to  hir  noble  person  daungerously, 
which  fact  she  most  graciously  pardoned,  accepting  a  iust  excuse 

35  before  a  great  amends,  taking  more  griefe  for  hir  poore  Bargeman 
that  was  a  little  hurt,  then  care  for  hir  selfe  that  stoode  in  greatest 
hasarde  :  O  rare  example  of  pittie,  O  singuler  spectacle  of  pietie. 

1 6  his]  the  E  rest  23  had  E  rest  25-6  Antonius  all,  except  Antonus  E 
29  to*]  and  to  E  rest  32  heard  E  rest  33  vnwittngly  M  34  a  om. 

E  rest          36  stoode]  was  E  rest          37  pittie]  pietie  E 


208  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Diuers  besides  haue  there  beene  which  by  priuate  conspiracies, 
open  rebellions,  close  wiles,  cruel  witchcraftes,  haue  sought  to  ende 
hir  life,  which  saueth  all  their  Hues,  whose  practises  by  the  diuine 
prouidence  of  the  almightie,  haue  euer  beene  disclosed,  insomuch  that 
he  hath  kept  hir  safe  in  the  whales  belly  when  hir  subiects  went  5 
about  to  throwe  hir  into  the  sea,  preserued  hir  in  the  hoat  Ouen, 
when  hir  enimies  encreased  the  fire,  not  suffering  a  haire  to  fal  from 
hir,  much  lesse  any  harme  to  fasten  vppon  hir.  These  iniuries  & 
treasons  of  hir  subiects,  these  policies  &  vndermining  of  forreine 
nations  so  littled  moued  hir,  yt  she  woulde  often  say,  let  them  10 
knowe  that  though  it  bee  not  lawfull  for  them  to  speake  what  they 
list,  yet  it  is  lawfull  for  vs  to  doe  with  them  what  we  list,  being 
alwayes  of  that  mercifull  minde,  which  was  in  Theodosius,  who  wishid 
rather  that  he  might  call  the  deade  to  life,  then  put  the  liuing  to 
death,  saying  with  Augustus  when  she  shoulde  set  hir  hande  to  any  15 
condempnation,  I  woulde  to  God  we  could  not  writ.  Infinite  were 
the  ensamples  that  might  be  alledged,  and  almost  incredible,  whereby 
shee  hath  shewed  hir  selfe  a  Lambe  in  meekenesse,  when  she  had 
cause  to  be  a  Lion  in  might,  proued  a  Doue  in  fauour,  whe  she  was 
prouoked  to  be  an  Eagle  in  fiercenesse,  requiting  iniuries  with  benefits,  20 
reuenging  grudges  with  gifts,  in  highest  maiestie  bearing  the  lowest 
minde,  forgiuing  all  that  sued  for  mercie,  and  forgetting  all  that 
deserued  lustice. 

0  diuine  nature,  O  heauenly  nobilitie,  what  thing  can  there  more 
be  required  in  a  Prince,  then  in  greatest  power,  to  she  we  greatest  25 
patience,  in  chiefest  glorye,  to  bring  forth  chiefest  grace,  in  abund- 
aunce  of  all  earthlye  pompe,  to  manifest  aboundaunce  of  all  heauenlye 
pietie?     O  fortunate  England  that  hath  such  a  Queene,  vngratefull 

if  thou  praye  not  for  hir,  wicked  if  thou  do  not  loue  hir,  miserable,  if 
thou  loose  hir.  3o 

Heere  Ladies  is  a  Glasse  for  all  Princes  to  behold,  that  being 
called  to  dignitie,  they  vse  moderation,  not  might,  tempering  the 
seueritie  of  the  lawes,  with  the  mildnes  of  loue,  not  executing  al  they 
wil,  but  shewing  what  they  may.  Happy  are  they,  and  onely  they 
that  are  vnder  this  glorious  and  gracious  Souereigntie  :  in-somuch  that  35 
I  accompt  all  those  abiects,  that  be  not  hir  subiectes. 

1  there  haue  E  rest  6  hotte  ABGF 1623  :  hote  E  :  hot  1630-36  7 
increase  H  rest             12  is  it  BG             16  write  A  rest            17  examples  E  rest 
24-5  can  there  be  more  AB\  can  be  more  E  rest         27  pome  M:  felicitie  E  rest 
all2  om.  E  rest            29  thou  (bis)}  you  E  rest            30  you  F rest          33  they] 
their  E  rest        35  Soueraigne  E  rest 


EUPHUES'   GLASS   FOR   EUROPE  309 

But  why  doe  I  treade  still  in  one  path,  when  I  haue  so  large 

a  fielde  to  walke,  or  lynger  about  one  flower,  when  I  haue  manye 

to  gather :   where-in  I  resemble  those  that  beeinge  delighted  with 

the  little  brooke,  neglect  the  fountaines  head,  or  that  painter,  that 

5  being  curious  to  coulour  Cupids  Bow,  forgot  to  paint  the  string. 

As  this  noble  Prince  is  endued  with  mercie,  pacience  and  modera 
tion,  so  is  she  adourned  with  singuler  beautie  and  chastitie,  excelling 
in  the  one  Venus,  in  the  other  Vesta.  Who  knoweth  not  how  rare 
a  thing  it  is  (Ladies)  to  match  virginitie  with  beautie,  a  chast  minde 

10  with  an  amiable  face,  diuine  cogitations  with  a  comelye  counten- 
aunce  ?  But  suche  is  the  grace  bestowed  vppon  this  earthlye  God- 
desse,  that  hauing  the  beautie  that  myght  allure  all  Princes,  she  hath 
the  chastitie  also  to  refuse  all,  accounting  it  no  lesse  praise  to  be 
called  a  Uirgin,  then  to  be  esteemed  a  Venus,  thinking  it  as  great 

15  honour  to  bee  found  chast,  as  thought  amiable :  Where  is  now 
Electra  the  chast  Daughter  of  Agamemnon  ?  Where  is  Lala  that 
renoumed  Uirgin?  Wher  is  Aemilia,  that  through  hir  chastitie 
wrought  wonders,  in  maintayning  continuall  fire  at  the  Alter  of 
Vestal  Where  is  Claudia,  that  to  manifest  hir  virginitie  set  the 

20  Shippe  on  float  with  hir  finger,  that  multitudes  could  not  remoue 
by  force  ?  Where  is  Tuccia  one  of  the  same  order,  that  brought 
to  passe  no  lesse  meruailes,  by  carrying  water  in  a  siue,  not  shedding 
one  drop  from  Tiber  to  the  Temple  of  Vesta  ?  If  Uirginitie  haue 
such  force,  then  what  hath  this  chast  Uirgin  Elizabeth  don,  who 

25  by  the  space  of  twenty  and  odde  yeares  with  continuall  peace  against 
all  policies,  with  sundry  myracles,  contrary  to  all  hope,  hath  gouerned 
that  noble  Island.  Against  whome  neyther  forren  force,  nor  ciuill 
fraude,  neyther  discorde  at  home,  nor  conspirices  abroad,  could 
preuaile.  What  greater  meruaile  hath  happened  since  the  beginning 

30  of  the  world,  then  for  a  young  and  tender  Maiden,  to  gouern  strong 
and  valiaunt  menne,  then  for  a  Uirgin  to  make  the  whole  worlde, 
if  not  to  stand  in  awe  of  hir,  yet  to  honour  hir,  yea  and  to  Hue  in 
spight  of  all  those  that  spight  hir,  with  hir  sword  in  the  sheth,  with 
hir  armour  in  the  Tower,  with  hir  souldiers  in  their  gownes,  inso- 

35  much  as  hir  peace  may  be  called  more  blessed  then  the  quiet  raigne 
of  Numa  Pompilius^  in  whose  gouernment  the  Bees  haue  made  their 
hiues  in  the  soldiers  helmettes.  Now  is  the  Temple  of  lanus  re- 

4  fountaine  F  rest        that J]  the  E  rest  5  forgat  H  rest  7  adourned] 

indued  E  rest        17  renowned  E  rest       21  Tuccia]  Tuscia  M-G :  Tuseia  E  rest 
25  peach  H  26  sundry  om.  E  rest  28  conspiracies  A  rest 

BOND  H  P 


2io  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

moued  from  Rome  to  England,  whose  dore  hath  not  bene  opened 
this  twentie  yeares,  more  to  be  meruayled  at,  then  the  regiment 
of  Debora,  who  ruled  twentie  yeares  with  religion,  or  Semyramis 
that  gouerned  long  with  power,  or  Zenobia  that'  reigned  six  yeares 
in  prosperitie.  5 

This  is  the  onelye  myracle  that  virginitie  euer  wrought,  for  a  little 
Island  enuironed  round  about  with  warres,  to  stande  in  peace,  for 
the  walles  of  Fraunce  to  burne,  and  the  houses  of  England  to  freese, 
for  all  other  nations  eyther  with  ciuile  sworde  to  bee  deuided,  or 
with  forren  foes  to  be  inuaded,  and  that  countrey  neyther  to  be  10 
molested  with  broyles  in  their  owne  bosomes,  nor  threatned  with 
blasts  of  other  borderers  :  But  alwayes  though  not  laughing,  yet 
looking  through  an  Emeraud  at  others  iarres. 

Their   fields   haue   beene    sowne   with   corne,    straungers    theirs 
pytched  with  Camps,  they  haue  their  men  reaping  their  haruest,  15 
when  others  are  mustring  in  their  harneis,  they  vse  their  peeces  to 
fowle  for  pleasure,  others  their  Caliuers  for  feare  of  perrill. 

0  blessed  peace,  oh  happy  Prince,  O  fortunate  people  :  The  lyuing 
God  is  onely  the  Englysh  God,  wher  he  hath  placed  peace,  which 
bryngeth  all  plentie,  annoy nted  a  Uirgin  Queene,  which  with  a  wand  20 
ruleth  hir  owne  subiects,  and  with  hir  worthinesse,  winneth  the  good 
willes  of  straungers,  so  that  she  is  no  lesse  gratious  among  hir  own, 
then  glorious  to  others,  no  lesse  loued  of  hir  people,  then  merualed 

at  of  other  nations. 

This  is  the  blessing  that  Christ  alwayes  gaue  to  his  people,  peace  :  25 
This  is  the  curse  that  hee  giueth  to  the  wicked,  there  shall  bee  no 
peace  to  the  vngodlye :  This  was  the  onelye  salutation  hee  vsed  to 
his  Disciples,  peace  be  vnto  you  :  And  therefore  is  hee  called  the  GOD 
of  loue,  and  peace  in  hollye  writte. 

In  peace  was  the  Temple  of  the  Lorde  buylt  by  Salomon,  Christ  30 
would  not  be  borne,  vntill  there  were  peace  through-out  the  whole 
worlde,  this  was  the  only  thing  that  Esechias  prayed  for,  let  there  be 
trueth  and  peace,  O  Lorde  in  my  dayes.  All  which  examples  doe 
manifestly  proue,  that  ther  can  be  nothing  giuen  of  God  to  man 
more  notable  then  peace.  ?5 

1  dores  haue  H  rest  3  Semyramis  G:   Semeriamis  MA  :   Semiriamis  B  : 
Semiramis  E  rest       4  gouerned]  ruled  Erest        9  ciuile]  cruel  A£G         12  blast 
E  rest        borders  E  rest  13  Emrald  E\   Emerald  F  rest  14  theirs] 
their  //:  there  1617  rest          17  perrils  E  rest          22  will  E  rest          27  onely 
the  F  rest          29  holy  A  rest           30  Salamon  AB           34  giuen  of  God  to  man 
cm,  E  rest 


EUPHUES'   GLASS   FOR  EUROPE  211 

This  peace  hath  the  Lorde  continued  with  great  and  vnspeakeable 
goodnesse  amonge  his  chosen  people  of  England.  How  much  is 
that  nation  bounde  to  such  a  Prince,  by  whome  they  enioye  all 
benefits  of  peace,  hauing  their  barnes  full,  when  others  famish,  their 

5  cofers  stuffed  with  gold,  when  others  haue  no  siluer,  their  wiues 
without  daunger,  when  others  are  defamed,  their  daughters  chast, 
when  others  are  defloured,  theyr  houses  furnished,  when  others  are 
fired,  where  they  haue  all  thinges  for  superfluitie,  others  nothing  to 
sustaine  their  neede.  This  peace  hath  God  giuen  for  hir  vertues, 

10  pittie,  moderation,  virginitie,  which  peace,  the  same  God  of  peace 
continue  for  his  names  sake. 

nPOuching  the  beau  tie  of  this  Prince,  hir  countenaunce,  hir  per- 

sonage,  hir  maiestie,  I  can-not  thinke  that  it  may  be  sufficiently 

commended,  when  it  can-not  be  too  much  meruailed  at :    So  that 

15  I  am  constrained  to  saye  as  Praxitiles  did,  when  hee  beganne  to 
paynt  Venus  and  hir  Sonne,  who  doubted,  whether  the  worlde  could 
affoorde  coulours  good  enough  for  two  such  fayre  faces,  and  I  whether 
our  tongue  canne  yeelde  wordes  to  blase  that  beautie,  the  perfection 
where-of  none  canne  imagine,  which  seeing  it  is  so,  I  must  doe  like 

20  those  that  want  a  cleere  sight,  who  being  not  able  to  discerne  the 
Sunne  in  the  Skie  are  inforced  to  beholde  it  in  the  water.  Zeuxis 
hauing  before  him  fiftie  faire  virgins  of  Sparta  where  by  to  draw  one 
amiable  Venus,  said,  that  fiftie  more  fayrer  then  those  coulde  not 
minister  sufncent  beautie  to  shewe  the  Godesse  of  beautie,  therefore 

25  being  in  dispaire  either  by  art  to  shadow  hir,  or  by  imagination  to 
coprehend  hir,  he  drew  in  a  table  a  faire  temple,  the  gates  open, 
&  Venus  going  in,  so  as  nothing  coulde  be  perceiued  but  hir  backe, 
wherein  he  vsed  such  cunning,  that  Appelles  himselfe  seeing  this 
worke,  wished  y*  Venus  would  turne  hir  face,  saying  yfc  if  it  were  in 

30  all  partes  agreeable  to  the  backe,  he  woulde  become  apprentice  to 
Zeuxis,  and  slaue  to  Venus.  In  the  like  manner  fareth  it  with  me, 
for  hauing  all  the  Ladyes  in  Italy  more  then  fiftie  hundered,  whereby 
to  coulour  Elizabeth,  I  must  say  with  Zeuxis,  that  as  many  more  will 
not  suffise,  and  therefore  in  as  great  an  agonie  paint  hir  court  with 

35  hir  back  towards  you,  for  y*  I  cannot  by  art  portraie  hir  beautie, 
wherein  though  I  want  the  skill  to  doe  it  as  Zeuxis  did,  yet  vewing 
it  narrowly,  and  comparing  it  wisely,  you  all  will  say  y*  if  hir  face  be 

12-3  her  Maiestie,  her  personage,  E  rest        15  Praxitiles  so  all       18  my  E  rest 
34  sufficient  A  rest  30  an  Apprentize  E  rest  37  all  om.  E  rest 

P  2 


212  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

aunswerable  to  hir  backe,  you  wil  like  my  handi-crafte,  and  become 
hir  handmaides.  In  the  meane  season  I  leaue  you  gasing  vntill  she 
turne  hir  face,  imagining  hir  to  be  such  a  one  as  nature  framed,  to 
yt  end  that  no  art  should  imitate,  wherein  shee  hath  proued  hir  selfe 
to  bee  exquisite,  &  painters  to  be  Apes.  5 

This  Beautifull  moulde  when  I  behelde  to  be  endued,  with  chas- 
titie,  temperance,  mildnesse,  &  all  other  good  giftes  of  nature  (as 
hereafter  shall  appeare)  when  I  saw  hir  to  surpasse  all  in  beautie, 
and  yet  a  virgin,  t£>  excell  all  in  pietie,  and  yet  a  prince,  to  be  in- 
feriour  to  none  in  all  the  liniaments  of  the  bodie,  and  yet  superiour  no 
to  euery  one  in  all  giftes  of  the  minde,  I  beegan  thus  to  pray,  that  as 
she  hath  liued  fortie  yeares  a  virgin  in  great  maiestie,  so  she  may  lyue 
fourescore  yeares  a  mother,  with  great  ioye,  that  as  with  hir  we  haue 
long  time  hadde  peace  and  plentie,  so  by  hir  we  may  euer  haue  quiet- 
nesse  and  aboundaunce,  wishing  this  euen  from  the  bottome  of  a  heart  15 
that  wisheth  well  to  England,  though  feareth  ill,  that  either  the  world 
may  ende  before  she  dye,  or  she  lyue  to  see  hir  childrens  children  in 
the  world :  otherwise,  how  tickle  their  state  is  y*  now  triumph,  vpon 
what  a  twist  they  hang  that  now  are  in  honour,  they  y*  Hue  shal  see 
which  I  to  thinke  on,  sigh.  But  God  for  his  mercies  sake,  Christ  for  20 
his  merits  sake,  ye  holy  Ghost  for  his  names  sake,  graunt  to  that 
realme,  comfort  with-out  anye  ill  chaunce,  &  the  Prince  they  haue 
without  any  other  chaunge,  that  ye  longer  she  liueth  the  sweeter  she 
may  smell,  lyke  the  bird  Ibis,  that  she  maye  be  triumphant  in  vic 
tories  lyke  the  Palme  tree,  fruitfull  in  hir  age  lyke  the  Uyne,  in  all  25 
ages  prosperous,  to  all  men  gratious,  in  all  places  glorious  :  so  that 
there  be  no  ende  of  hir  praise,  vntill  the  ende  of  all  flesh. 

Thus  did  I  often  talke  with  my  selfe,  and  wishe  with  mine  whole 
soule. 

What  should  I  talke  of  hir  sharpe  wit,  excellent  wisedome,  ex-  30 
quisite  learning,  and  all  other  qualities  of  the  minde,  where-in  she 
seemeth  as  farre  to  excell  those  that  haue  bene  accompted  singular, 
as  the  learned  haue  surpassed  those,  that  haue  bene  thought  simple. 

In  questioning  not  inferiour  to  Nicaulia  the  Queene  of  Saba,  that 
did  put  so  many  hard  doubts  to  Salomon,  equall  to  Nicostrata  in  the  35 
Greeke  tongue,  who  was   thought  to   giue  precepts  for  the  better 

1 1  the  before  gifts  H  rest  14  long . .  hadde]  had  long  time  E  rest  euer  may 
E  rest  1 6  fareth  E  rest  18  fickle  1630-36  19  now  om.  E  rest  22-3 
&  the  Prince  . .  .  other  chaunge,  om.  E  rest  24  vnto  after  like  E  rest  27 

praises  E  rest        29  heart  GE  rest        32  as]  so  E  rest        35  Salamon  AB 


EUPHUES'  GLASS   FOR   EUROPE  213 

perfectio :  more  learned  in  the  Latine,  then  Amalasunta :  passing 
Aspasia  in  Philosophic,  who  taught  Pericles :  exceeding  in  iudg€- 
ment  Themistoclea,  who  instructed  Pithagoras,  adde  to  these  qualyties, 
those,  that  none  of  these  had,  the  French  tongue,  the  Spanish,  the 
5  Italian,  not  meane  in  euery  one,  but  excellent  in  all,  readyer  to 
correct  escapes  in  those  languages,  then  to  be  controlled,  fitter  to 
teach  others,  then  learne  of  anye,  more  able  to  adde  new  rules,  then 
to  erre  in  ye  olde :  Insomuch  as  there  is  no  Embassadour ,  that 
commeth  into  hir  court,  but  she  is  willing  &  able  both  to  vnderstand 

10  his  message,  &  vtter  hir  minde,  not  lyke  vnto  ye  Kings  of  Assiria, 
who  aunswere  Embassades  by  messengers,  while  they  theselues  either 
dally  in  sinne,  or  snort  in  sleepe.  Hir  godly  zeale  to  learning,  with 
hir  great  skil,  hath  bene  so  manifestly  approued,  y*  I  cannot  tell 
whether  she  deserue  more  honour  for  hir  knowledge,  or  admiration 

1 5  for  hir  curtesie,  who  in  great  pompe ,,  hath  twice  directed  hir  Progresse 
vnto  the  Uniuersities,  with  no  lesse  ioye  to  the  Students,  then  glory 
to  hir  State.  Where,  after  long  &  solempne  disputations  in  Law, 
Phisicke,  &  Diuinitie,  not  as  one  weried  with  Schollers  arguments, 
but  wedded  to  their  orations,  when  euery  one  feared  to  offend  in 

20  length,  she  in  hir  own  person,  with  no  lesse  praise  to  hir  Maiestie, 
then  delight  to  hir  subiects,  with  a  wise  &  learned  conclusion,  both 
gaue  them  thankes,  &  put  hir  selfe  to  paines.  O  noble  patterne  of 
a  princelye  minde,  not  like  to  ye  kings  of  Persia,  who  in  their  pro 
gresses  did  nothing  els  but  cut  stickes  to  driue  away  the  time,  nor 

25  like  ye  delicate  Hues  of  the  Sybarites,  who  would  not  admit  any  Art 
to  be  exercised  w^in  their  citie,  y*  might  make  ye  least  noyse.  Hir 
wit  so  sharp,  that  if  I  should  repeat  the  apt  aunsweres,  ye  subtil 
questions,  ye  fine  speaches,  the  pithie  sentences,  which  on  ye  soddain 
she  hath  vttered,  they  wold  rather  breed  admiratio  the  credit.  But 

30  such  are  ye  gifts  y*  the  liuing  God  hath  indued  hir  with-all,  that  looke 
in  what  Arte  or  Language,  wit  or  learning,  vertue  or  beautie,  any 
one  hath  perticularly  excelled  most,  she  onely  hath  generally  ex 
ceeded  euery  one  in  al,  insomuch,  that  there  is  nothing  to  bee 
added,  that  either  ma  would  wish  in  a  woman,  or  God  doth  giue  to 

35  a  creature. 

I  let  passe  hir  skil  in  Musicke,  hir  knowledg  in  al  ye  other  sciences, 

I  Acalasunta  E  rest  3  Themistocles  H  rest  4  of  these"]  haue  E  rest 

7  to  before  learne  E  rest  8  Ambassadour  AB  1 1  aunswered  GE  Ambas- 
sades  AB  :  Embassages  H  rest  13  appreued  E  17  hir]  the  E  rest  the 
before  Law  F rest  22  very  great  before  paines  E  rest  23  vnto  E  rest 

28  the]  ye  M  32  gnerally  M  34  men  E  rest 


214  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

whg  as  I  feare  least  by  my  simplicity  I  shoulde  make  them  lesse  then 
they  are,  in  seeking  to  shewe  howe  great  they  are,  vnlesse  I  were 
praising  hir  in  the  gallerie  of  Olympia,  where  gyuing  forth  one  worde, 
I  might  heare  seuen. 

But  all  these  graces  although  they  be  to  be  wondered  at,  yet  hir  5 
politique  gouernement,  hir  prudent  counsaile,  hir  zeale  to  religion, 
hir  clemencie  to  those  that   submit,  hir  stoutnesse  to  those  that 
threaten,  so  farre  exceede  all  other  vertues,  that  they  are  more  easie 
to  be  meruailed  at,  then  imitated. 

Two  and  twentie  yeares  hath  she  borne  the  sword  with  such  iustice,  10 
that  neither  offenders  coulde  complaine  of  rigour,  nor  the  innocent 
of  wrong,  yet  so  tempered  w*  mercie,  as  malefactours  haue  beene 
sometimes  pardoned  vpon  hope  of  grace,  and  the  iniuried  requited 
to  ease  their  griefe,  insomuch  that  in  ye  whole  course  of  hir  glorious 
raigne,  it  coulde  neuer  be  saide,  that  either  the  poore  were  oppressed  15 
without  remedie,  or  the  guiltie  repressed  without  cause,  bearing  this 
engrauen  in  hir  noble  heart,  that  iustice  without  mercie  were  ex- 
treame  iniurie,  and  pittie  without  equitie  plaine  partialitie,  and  that 
it  is  as  great  tyranny  not  to  mitigate  Laws,  as  iniquitie  to  breake 
them.  20 

Hir  care  for  the  flourishing  of  the  Gospell  hath  wel  appeared, 
when  as  neither  the  curses  of  the  Pope,  (which  are  blessings  to 
good  people)  nor  the  threatenings  of  kings,  (which  are  perillous 
to  a  Prince)  nor  the  perswasions  of  Papists,  (which  are  Honny  to 
the  mouth)  could  either  feare  hir,  or  allure  hir,  to  violate  the  holy  25 
league  contracted  with  Christ,  or  to  maculate  the  blood  of  the 
aunciente  Lambe,  whiche  is  Christ.  But  alwayes  constaunt  in  the 
true  fayth,  she  hath  to  the  exceeding  ioye  of  hir  subiectes,  to  the 
vnspeakeable  comforte  of  hir  soule,  to  the  great  glorye  of  God,  estab- 
lyshed  that  religion,  the  mayntenance  where-of,  shee  rather  seeketh  30 
to  confirme  by  fortitude,  then  leaue  off  for  feare,  knowing  that  there 
is  nothing  that  smelleth  sweeter  to  the  Lorde,  then  a  sounde  spirit e, 
which  neyther  the  hostes  of  the  vngodlye,  nor  the  horror  of  death, 
can  eyther  remoue  or  moue. 

This  Gospell  with  inuincible  courage,  with  rare  constancie,  with  ?5 
hotte   zeale    shee    hath  maintained  in  hir  owne  countries  with-out 
chaunge,  and  defended  against  all  kingdomes  that  sought  chaunge, 
insomuch  that  all  nations  rounde  about  hir,  threatninge  alteration, 

10  Two]  Fiue  E  rest,  prob.  first  in  1582  13  iniurie  E  rest         22  course  E 

32  vnto  E  rest  37  defenced  ^-1631 


EUPHUES'  GLASS  FOR  EUROPE  215 

shaking  swordes,  throwing  fyre,  menacing  famyne,  murther,  de 
struction,  desolation,  shee  onely  hath  stoode  like  a  Lampe  on  the 
toppe  of  a  hill,  not  fearing  the  blastes  of  the  sharpe  winds,  but 
trusting  in  his  prouidence  that  rydeth  vppon  the  winges  of  the 
5  foure  windes.  Next  followeth  the  loue  shee  beareth  to  hir  subiectes, 
who  no  lesse  tendereth  them,  then  the  apple  of  hir  owne  eye,  shewing 
hir  selfe  a  mother  to  the  aflicted,  a  Phisition  to  the  sicke,  a  Soue- 
reigne  and  mylde  Gouernesse  to  all. 

Touchinge  hir  Magnanimitie,  hir  Maiestie,  hir  Estate  royall,  there 

10  was  neyther  Alexander •,  nor  Galba  the  Emperour,  nor  any  that  might 
be  compared  with  hir. 

This  is  she  that  resembling  the  noble  Queene  of  Nauarr,  vseth 
the  Marigolde  for  hir  flower,  which  at  the  rising  of  the  Sunne 
openeth  hir  leaues,  and  at  the  setting  shutteth  them,  referring  all 

15  hir  actions  and  endeuours  to  him  that  ruleth  the  Sunne.  This  is 
that  Ccesar  that  first  bound  the  Crocodile  to  the  Palme  tree, 
bridling  those,  that  sought  to  raine  hir :  This  is  that  good  Pelican 
that  to  feede  hir  people  spareth  not  to  rend  hir  owne  personne : 
This  is  that  mightie  Eagle,  that  hath  throwne  dust  into  the  eyes 

20  of  the  Hart,  that  went  about  to  worke  destruction  to  hir  subiectes, 
into  whose  winges  although  the  blinde  Beetle  would  haue  crept, 
and  so  being  carryed  into  hir  nest,  destroyed  hir  young  ones,  yet 
hath  she  with  the  vertue  of  hir  fethers,  consumed  that  flye  in  his, 
owne  fraud. 

25  She  hath  exiled  the  Swallowe  that  sought  to  spoyle  the  Gras- 
hopper,  and  giuen  bytter  Almondes  to  the  rauenous  Wolues,  that 
endeuored  to  deuoure  the  silly  Lambes,  burning  euen  with  the 
breath  of  hir  mouth  like  ye  princly  Stag,  the  serpents  y*  wer  en- 
gendred  by  the  breath  of  the  huge  Elephant,  so  that  now  all  hir 

30  enimies,  are  as  whist  as  the  bird  Attagen,  who  neuer  singeth  any 
tune  after  she  is  taken,  nor  they  beeing  so  ouertaken. 

But  whether  do  I  wade  Ladyes,  as  one  forgetting  him-selfe,  think 
ing  to  sound  the  depth  of  hir  vertues  with  a  few  fadomes,  when 
there  is  no  bottome :  For  I  knowe  not  how  it  commeth  to  passe, 

35  that  being  in  this  Laborinth,  I  may  sooner  loose  my  selfe,  then 
finde  the  ende. 

Beholde  Ladyes  in  this  Glasse  a  Queene,  a  woeman,  a  Uirgin,  in 

2  Lambe  GE  rest  7  mother  to]  louing  mother  vnto  E  rest        to2]  vnto 

E  rest  17  rayne  ABG\  reigned  1623:   reine  1630-36  19  thrownd  E 

32  whither  EH  rest  33  deph  M  37  in2]  in  twice  H 


2i6  EUPHUES  AND  HIS  ENGLAND 

all  giftes  of  the  bodye,  in  all  graces  of  the  minde,  in  all  perfection 
of  eyther,  so  farre  to  excell  all  men,  that  I  know  not  whether 
I  may  thinke  the  place  too  badde  for  hir  to  dwell  amonge  men. 

To  talke  of  other  thinges  in  that  Court,  wer  to  bring  Egges  after 
apples,  or  after  the  setting  out  of  the  Sunne,  to  tell  a  tale  of  a  5 
Shaddow. 

But  this  I  saye,  that  all  offyces  are  looked  to  with  great  care,  that 
vertue  is  embraced  of  all,  vice  hated,  religion  daily  encreased, 
manners  reformed,  that  who  so  seeth  the  place  there,  will  thinke  it 
rather  a  Church  for  diuine  seruice,  then  a  Court  for  Princes  delight.  10 

This  is  the  Glasse  Ladies  wher-in  I  would  haue  you  gase,  where-in 
I  tooke  my  whole  delight,  imitate  the  Ladyes  in  England,  amende 
your  manners,  rubbe  out  the  wrinckles  of  the  minde,  and  be  not 
curious  about  the  weams  in  the  face.  As  for  their  Elizabeth,  sith 
you  can  neyther  sufficiently  meruaile  at  hir,  nor  I  prayse  hir,  let  vs  15 
all  pray  for  hir,  which  is  the  onely  duetie  we  can  performe,  and  the 
greatest  that  we  can  proffer. 

Yours  to  commaund 

Euphues. 

f  louis  Elizabeth.  20 

Alias,  Juno,  Venus,  cum  Nympham  numine  plenam 

Spectarunt,  "  nostra  hgc,"  quceq$  triumphat,  "  eriiT 
Contendunt  auide  :  sic  tandem  regia  luno, 

"  Est  mea,  de  magnis  stemma  petiuit  auis." 
"Hoc  leue,  (nee  sperno  tantorum  insignia  patrum)  :  25 

Ingenio  pollet  ;  dos  mea,"  Pallas  ait. 
Dulce  Venus  risit,  vultusq)  in  lumina  fixit, 

"  Hcec  mea  "  dixit  "  erit,  nam  quod  ametur  habet. 
Judicio  Paridis,  cum  sit  pralata  venustas, 

Ingenium  Pallas  ?  luno  quid  vrget  auos  ?  "  30 

Hcec  Venus  :  impatiens  veteris  Saturnia  damni, 
'"''Arbiter  in  cczlis  non  Pan's,"  inquit  "erit." 
Intumuit  Pallas  nunquam  passura  priorem, 

li  Priamides  Helenem"  dixit,  "  adulter  amet" 

Risit,  Sj-  erubuit,  mixto  Cytherea  colore,  35 

"  Indicium?  dixit,  "  luppiter  ipse  ferat" 

7  that2]  and  F  rest  9  so  om.  E  rest          10  a  before  Princes  E  rest          15 

you]  ye  E  rest  22  "  nostra]  /  have  added  the  inverted  commas  throughout, 

and  one  or  two  stops  haec  A  rest        quseq'  ;  B  :  quseque  E  rest      triumphant  E 

25  partum  £"1623  27  vultusque  E  rest           lumnia  E           29  Paraidis  B 

30  vrgit  BE  rest  34  Priamedes  F  rest             Helenam  BE  rest 


JOVIS   ELIZABETH  217 

Assensere,  louem,  compellant  vocibus  vitro : 

Incipit  affari  regia  Juno  louem. 
"  luppiter,  Elizabeth  vestras  si  venit  ad  aures, 

(Quam  certe  omnino  ccelica  turba  stupenf] 
5          Hanc  propria,  fy  merito  semper  vult  esse  Monarcham 

Qugfosuam,  namq)  est  pulchra,  diserta,  potens. 
Quod  pulchra,  est  Veneris,  quod polleat  arte,  Minerug, 

Quod  Princeps,  Nympham  quis  neget  esse  meant  ? 
Arbiter  istius,  modo  vis,  certaminis  esto, 
10  Sin  minus,  est  nullum  Us  habitura  modum." 

Obstupet  Omnipotes,  "durum  est  quod  poscitis"  inquit, 

"Est  tamen  arbitrio  res  per  agenda  meo. 
Tu  soror  et  coniux  luno,  tu  filia  Pallas, 

Es  quoqz,  quid  simulem  ?  ter  mihi  chara  Venus. 
15          Non  tua,  da  veniam,  luno,  nee  Palladis  ilia  est, 

Nee  Veneris,  credas  hoc  licet  alma  Venus. 
H&c  luno,  hgc  Pallas,  Venus  hgc,  §  qugqj  Dearum, 

Diuisum  Elizabeth  cum  loue  numen  habet. 
Ergo  quid  obstrepitis  ?  frustra  contenditis  "  inquit, 
*°  "  Vltima  vox  h<zc  est,  Elizabetha  mea  est? 

Euphues 

Es  louis  Elizabeth,  nee  quid  loue  mams  habendum, 
Et,  loue  teste,  loui  es  luno,  Minerua,  Venus. 

THese  Uerses  Euphues  sent  also  vnder  his  Glasse,  which  hauing 
once  finished,  he  gaue  him-selfe  to  his  booke,  determininge 
to  ende  his  lyfe  in  Athens,  although  he  hadde  a  moneths  minde  to 
England,  who  at  all  tymes,  and  in  all  companies,,  was  no  niggarde  of 
his  good  speach  to  that  Nation,  as  one  willyng  to  Hue  in  that  Court, 
and  wedded  to  the  manners  of  that  countrey. 

30  It  chaunced  that  being  in  Athens  not  passing  one  quarter  of  a 
yeare,  he  receiued  letters  out  of  England,  from  Philautus,  which 
I  thought  necessarye  also  to  insert,  that  I  might  giue  some  ende  to 
the  matters  in  England,  which  at  Euphues  departure  were  but  rawly 
left.  And  thus  they  follow. 

5  Monarchum  EF  1617  rest :  Nonarchum  H  6  Qnseque  E  rest        sanam 

MA  desertaa//^.  7  Mineruse  AB  1617  rest:  Minerua  E-H  8 

negit  A  :  neg&tFrest          14  quoquse  E  16  veneris  Frest  17  haec  (bis} 

A  rest  cpvK.c{ZAB:  queque  E  :  quseque  .Fratf  18  mumen  M  22 

Est  E  rest  23  loue]  loui  EF  es]  est  BE  rest          33  in]  of  DE  rest 


218  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Philautus  to  his  owne 
Euphues. 

IHaue  oftentimes  (Euphues)  since  thy  departure  complained,  of 
the  distance  of  place  that  I  am  so  farre  from  thee,  of  the  length 
of  time  that  I  coulde  not  heare  of  thee,  of  the  spite  of  Fortune,  that  5 
I  might  not  sende  to  thee,  but  time  at  length,  and  not  too  late, 
bicause  at  last,  hath  recompensed  the  iniuries  of  all,  offering  me  both 
a  conuenient  messenger  by  whom  to  send,  and  straung  newes  whereof 
to  write. 

Thou  knowest  howe  frowarde  matters  went,  whe   thou  tookest  10 
shippe,  &  thou  wouldest  meruaile  to  heere  howe  forwarde  they  were 
before  thou  strokest  saile,  for  I  had  not  beene  long  in  London,  sure 
I  am  thou  wast  not  then  at  Athens,  when  as  the  corne  whiche  was 
greene  in  the  blade,  bega  to  wax  ripe  in  the  eare,  when  the  seede 
which  I  scarce  thought  to  haue  taken  roote,  began  to  spring,  when  15 
the  loue  of  Surius  whiche  hardly  I  would   haue   gessed  to  haue 
a  blossome,  shewed  a  budde.     But  so  vnkinde  a  yeare  it  hath  beene 
in  England,  that  we  felt  the  heate  of  the  Sommer,  before  we  could 
discerne  the  temperature  of  the  Spring,  insomuch  that  we  were  ready 
to  make  Haye,  before  we  coulde  mowe  grasse,  hauing  in  effecte  the  20 
Ides  of  May  before  the  Calends  of  March,  which  seeing  it  is  so 
forward  in  these  things,  I  meruailed  the  lesse  to  see  it  so  redy  in 
matters  of  loue,  wher  oftentimes  they  clap  hands  before  they  know  the 
bargaine,  and  scale  the  Oblygation,  before  they  read  the  condition. 

At  my  being  in  the  house  of  Camilla,  it  happened  I  found  Surius  25 
accompanied  with  two  knights,  and  the  Lady  Flauia  with  three  other 
Ladyes,  I  drew  back  as  one  somewhat  shamefast,  when  I  was  willed 
to  draw  neere,  as  one  that  was  wished  for.  Who  thinking  of  nothing 
lesse  then  to  heare  a  cotract  for  manage,  wher  I  only  expected 
a  conceipt  for  mirth,  I  sodainly,  yet  solempnly,  hard  those  wordes  of  3° 
assurance  betweene  Surius  &  Camilla,  in  the  which  I  had  rather 
haue  bene  a  partie,  then  a  witnes,  I  was  not  a  lyttle  amazed  to  see 
them  strike  the  yron  which  I  thought  colde,  &  to  make  an  ende  before 
I  could  heere  a  beginning.  When  they  saw  me  as  it  were  in  a  traunce, 
Surius  taking  mee  by  the  hand,  began  thus  to  iest.  35 

You  muse  Philautus  to  see  Camilla  &  me  to  bee  assured,  not  that 
you  doubted  it  vnlikely  to  come  to  passe,  but  that  you  were  ignorant 

7  it  before  hath  E  rest  offered  E  rest  17  hath  it  E  rest  23 

their  before  hands  E  rest  24  conditon  M  25  in]  at  DE  rest  30 

for]  of  BE  rest 


PHILAUTUS  TO   EUPHUES  219 

of  the  practises,  thinking  the  diall  to  stand  stil,  bicause  you  cannot 
perceiue  it  to  moue.  But  had  you  bene  priuie  to  all  proofes,  both  of 
hir  good  meaning  towards  me,  and  of  my  good  wil  towards  hir,  you 
wold  rather  haue  thought  great  hast  to  be  made,  then  long  deliberation. 
5  For  this  vnderstande,  that  my  friends  are  vnwilling  yt  I  shold  match 
so  low,  not  knowing  yt  loue  thinketh  ye  luniper  shrub,  to  be  as  high 
as  ye  tal  Oke,  or  ye  Nightingales  layes,  to  be  more  precious  then  ye 
Ostritches  feathers,  or  ye  Lark  yt  breedeth  in  ye  ground,  to  be  better 
then  ye  Hobby  yt  mounteth  to  the  cloudes.  I  haue  alwaies  hetherto 

10  preferred  beautie  before  riches,  &  honestie  before  bloud,  knowing 
that  birth  is  ye  praise  we  receiue  of  our  auncestours,  honestie  the 
renowne  we  leaue  to  our  successours,  &  of  to  britle  goods,  riches 
&  beautie,  I  had  rather  chuse  that  which  might  delyght  me,  then 
destroy  me.  Made  manages  by  friends,  how  daungerous  they  haue 

15  bene  I  know,  PhUautus,  and  some  present  haue  proued,  which  can 
be  likened  to  nothing  els  so  well,  then  as  if  a  man  should  be 
constrayned  to  pull  on  a  shooe  by  an  others  last,  not  by  the  length 
of  his  owne  foote,  which  beeing  too  little,  wrings  him  that  weares  it, 
not  him  yt  made  it,  if  too  bigge,  shameth  him  that  hath  it,  not  him 

20  that  gaue  it.  In  meates,  I  loue  to  carue  wher  I  like,  &  in  mariage 
shall  I  be  earned  where  I  lyke  not  ?  I  had  as  liefe  an  other  shold 
take  mesure  by  his  back,  of  my  apparel,  as  appoint  what  wife  I  shal 
haue,  by  his  minde. 

In  the  choyce  of  a  wife,  sundry  men  are  of  sundry  mindes,  one 

25  looketh  high  as  one  yt  feareth  no  chips,  saying  yt  the  oyle  that 
swimmeth  in  ye  top  is  ye  wholsomest,  an  other  poreth  in  ye  ground, 
as  dreading  al  daungers  that  happen  in  great  stocks,  alledging  that 
ye  honny  yt  lieth  in  ye  bottome  is  ye  sweetest,  I  assent  to  neither, 
as  one  willing  to  follow  the  meane,  thinking  yt  the  wine  which  is  in 

30  the  middest  to  be  the  finest.  That  I  might  therfore  match  to  mine 
owne  minde,  I  haue  chose  Camilla^  a  virgin  of  no  noble  race,  nor 
yet  the  childe  of  a  base  father,  but  betweene  both,  a  Gentle- woman 
of  an  auncient  and  worshipfull  house,  in  beautie  inferior  to  none,  in 
vertue  superior  to  a  number. 

35  Long  time  we  loued,  but  neither  durst  she  manifest  hir  affection, 
bicause  I  was  noble,  nor  I  vtter  myne,  for  feare  of  offence,  seeing 

7  Oakes  DE  rest  8  Estridges  E  rest  12  to2]  two  A  rest  15 

not  after  know  E  rest  16    liked  E\   likned  F  rest  20     carue]  craue 

.#1617,1623  21  craued  B  1617,  1623  22  shal]  should  DE  rest  23 

my  E  26  in1]  on  E  rest  poring  E  rest  in2]  on  F  rest  27 

alleadgeth  F  rest  29  y*  om.  F  rest 


220  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

in  hir  alwayes  a  minde  more  willing  to  cary  torches  before  Vesta, 
then  tapers  before  luno.  But  as  fire  whe  it  bursteth  out  catcheth 
hold  soonest  of  the  dryest  wood,  so  loue  when  it  is  reueyled, 
fasteneth  easiest  vppon  the  affectionate  will,  which  came  to  passe  in 
both  vs,  for  talking  of  Loue,  of  his  lawes,  of  his  delyghts,  torments,  5 
and  all  other  braunches,  I  coulde  neither  so  dissemble  my  liking, 
but  that  she  espied  it,  where  at  I  began  to  sigh,  nor  she  so  cloake 
hir  loue,  but  that  I  perceiued  it,  where  at  shee  began  to  blush : 
at  the  last,  though  long  time  strayning  curtesie  who  should  goe  ouer 
the  stile,  when  we  had  both  hast,  I  (for  that  I  knew  wome  would  10 
rather  die,  then  seeme  to  desire)  began  first  to  vnfolde  the  extremities 
of  my  passions,  the  causes  of  my  loue,  the  constancie  of  my  faith, 
the  which  she  knowing  to  bee  true,  easely  beleeued,  and  replyed  in 
the  like  manner,  which  I  thought  not  certeine,  not  that  I  mis 
doubted  hir  faith,  but  that  I  coulde  not  perswade  my  selfe  of  so  15 
good  fortune.  Hauing  thus  made  ech  other  priuie  to  our  wished 
desires,  I  frequeted  more  often  to  Camilla,  which  caused  my  friendes 
to  suspect  that,  which  nowe  they  shall  finde  true,  and  this  was  the 
cause  that  we  al  meete  heere,  that  before  this  good  company,  we 
might  knit  that  knot  with  our  tongues,  that  we  shall  neuer  vndoe  20 
with  our  teeth. 

This  was  Surius  speach  vnto  me,  which  Camilla  with  the  rest 
affirmed.  But  I  Euphues,  in  whose  hart  the  stumpes  of  Loue  were 
yet  sticking,  beganne  to  chaunge  colour,  feelyng  as  it  were  newe 
stormes  to  arise  after  a  pleasaunt  calme,  but  thinking  with  my  selfe,  25 
that  the  time  was  past  to  woe  hir,  that  an  other  was  to  wedde, 
I  digested  the  Pill  which  had  almost  chockt  me.  But  time  caused 
me  to  sing  a  new  Tune  as  after  thou  shalt  heare. 

After  much  talke  and  great  cheere,  I  taking  my  leaue  departed, 
being  willed  to  visite  the  Ladie  Flauia  at  my  leasure,  which  worde  3° 
was  to  me  in  steede  of  a  welcome. 

Within  a  while  after  it  was  noysed  that  Surius  was  assured  to 
Camilla,  which  bread  great  quarrells,  but  hee  like  a  noble  Gentle- 
-man  reioycing  more  in  his  Loue,  then  esteeminge  the  losse  of  his 
friendes,  maugre  them  all  was  maried,  not  in  a  chamber  priuatelye  35 
as  one  fearing  tumultes,  but  openlye  in  the  Church,  as  one  ready  to 
aunswer  any  obiections. 

3  reuealed  A  rest  5  of  before  vs  B  rest  7  I]  she  DE  rest  not 

she  so  B  :  nor  she  to  E:  or  shee  to  F\    or  shee  so  Hrest         10  haste  BFH 1623 
rest  15  of]  to  E  17  by  before  my  E  26  was1  om.  Hrest  27 

choakt  B  rest        30  willing  H  rest        33  bred  DE  rest        great  om.  ABE  rest 


PHILAUTUS   TO   EUPHUES  221 

This  mariage  solemnised,  could  not  be  recalled,  which  caused 
his  Allies  to  consent,  and  so  all  parties  pleased,  I  thinke  them  the 
happyest  couple  in  the  worlde. 

~\T Ow  Euphues  thou  shalt  vnderstand,  that  all  hope  being  cut  off, 
5  •*•  ^  from  obtaining  Camilla^  I  began  to  vse  the  aduauntage  of 
the  word,  that  Lady  Flauia  cast  out,  whome  I  visited  more  lyke  to 
a  soiourner,  then  a  stranger,  being  absent  at  no  time  from  breackfast, 
till  euening. 

Draffe  was  mine  arrand,  but  drinke  I  would,  my  great  curtesie 

jo  was  to  excuse  my  greeuous  tormentes  :  for  I  ceased  not  continuallye 
to  courte  my  violette,  whome  I  neuer  found  so  coye  as  I  thought, 
nor  so  curteous  as  I  wished.  At  the  last  thinking  not  to  spend  all 
my  wooinge  in  signes,  I  fell  to  flatte  sayinges,  reuealing  the  bytter 
sweetes  that  I  sustained,  the  ioy  at  hir  presence,  the  griefe  at  hir 

15  absence,  with  al  speeches  that  a  Louer  myght  frame :  She  not 
degenerating  from  the  wyles  of  a  woeman,  seemed  to  accuse  men 
of  inconstancie,  that  the  painted  wordes  were  but  winde,  that 
feygned  sighes,  were  but  sleyghtes,  that  all  their  loue,  was  but  to 
laugh,  laying  baites  to  catch  the  fish,  that  they  meant  agayne  to 

20  throw  into  the  ryuer,  practisinge  onelye  cunninge  to  deceyue,  not 
curtesie,  to  tell  trueth,  where-in  she  compared  all  Louers,  to  Mizaldus 
the  Poet,  which  was  so  lyght  that  euery  winde  would  blowe  him  awaye, 
vnlesse  hee  had  lead  tyed  to  his  heeles,  and  to  the  fugitiue  stone 
in  Cyzico,  which  runneth  away  if  it  be  not  fastened  to  some  post. 

25  Thus  would  she  dally,  a  wench  euer-more  giuen  to  such  disporte  : 
I  aunswered  for  my  selfe  as  I  could,  and  for  all  men  as  I  thought. 

Thus  oftentimes  had  we  conference,  but  no  conclusion,  many 
meetinges,  but  few  pastimes,  vntill  at  the  last  Surius  one  that  could 
quickly  perceiue,  on  which  side  my  bread  was  buttered,  beganne 

30  to  breake  with  me  touching  Fraimcis,  not  as  though  he  had  heard 
any  thing,  but  as  one  that  would  vnderstand  some-thing.  I  durst 
not  seeme  straunge  when  I  founde  him  so  curteous,  knowing  that 
in  this  matter  he  might  almoste  worke  all  to  my  lyking. 

1  vnfolded  to  him  from  time  to  time,  the  whole  discourses  I  had 
35  with  my  Uiolet,  my  earnest  desire  to  obtaine  hir,  my  landes,  goodes, 

and  reuenues,  who  hearing  my  tale,  promised  to  further  my  suite, 

2  parts  E  rest         6  ye  before  Lady  B          to  om.  E  rest  9  errand  DE  rest 
13  sayinges]  saying  DE  rest          17  the]  their  F  rest           18  slights  AB           21 
Mizaldos  F  rest               24  Cicyco  AB:    Cicico  DE  rest  30  Fraunces  Elf: 
Francis  1617-1631  :  P'rances  1636            33  to  em.  £  rest  34  discourse  E  rest 


222  EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

where-in    he    so    besturred   his   studie,    that  with-in    one    moneth, 
I  was  in  possibilitie  to  haue  hir,  I  most  wished,  and  least  looked  for. 

It  were  too  too  long  to  write  an  historic,  being  but  determined  to 
send  a  Letter  :  therefore  I  will  diferre  all  the  actions  and  accidentes 
that  happened,  vntill  occasion  shall  seme  eyther  to  meete  thee,  or  5 
minister  leasure  to  me. 

To  this  ende  it  grewe,  that  conditions  drawen  for  the  perform- 
aunce  of  a  certaine  ioynter  (for  the  which  I  had  manye  Italians 
bounde)  we  were  both  made  as  sure  as  Surius  and  Camilla. 

Hir  dowrie  was  in  redy  money  a  thousand  pounds,  and  a  fayre  10 
house,  where-in  I  meane  shortelye  to  dwell.      The  ioynter  I  must 
make  is  foure  hundred  poundes  yearelye,  the  which  I  must  heere 
purchase  in  England,  and  sell  my  landes  in  Italy. 

Now  Euphues  imagine  with  thy  self  that  Philautus  beginneth  to 
chaunge,  although  in  one  yeare  to  marie  and  to  thriue  it  be  hard.  15 

But  would  I  might  once  againe  see  thee  heere,  vnto  whome  thou 
shalt  be  no  lesse  welcome,  then  to  thy  best  friende. 

Surius  that  noble  Gentleman  commendeth  him  vnto  thee,  Camilla 
forgetteth  thee  not,  both  earnestly  wish  thy  returne,  with  great 
promises  to  do  thee  good,  whether  thou  wish  it  in  the  court  or  in  20 
the  countrey,  and  this  I  durst  sweare,  that  if  thou  come  againe 
into  England,  thou  wilt  be  so  friendly  entreated,  that  either  thou 
wilt  altogether  dwell  here,  or  tarry  here  longer. 

The  Lady  Flauia  saluteth  thee,  and  also  my  Uiolet,  euery  one 
wisheth  thee  so  well,  as  thou  canst  wish  thy  selfe  no  better.  25 

Other  newes  here  is  none,  but  that  which  lyttle  apperteyneth  to 
mee,  and  nothing  to  thee. 

Two  requestes  I  haue  to  make,  aswel  from  Surius  as  my  selfe, 
the  one  to  come  into  England,  the  other  to  heare  thyne  aunswere. 
And  thus  in  hast  I  byd  the  farewell.      From  London  the  first   of  30 
Februarie.  1579. 

Thyne  or  not  his  owne  : 
PHILAVTVS. 

HP  His  Letter  being  deliuered  to  Euphues,  and  well  perused,  caused 

him  both  to  meruaile,  and  to  ioy,  seeing  all  thinges  so  straungly  35 
concluded,  and  his  friende  so  happilye  contracted :  hauing  therefore  by 

i  bestirred  E  rest  4  deferre  A  rest  9  bounde]  bonds  H  rest  1 5 

thrue  M         21  and  <?w.  H  rest         22  enterated  M         25  as]  that  E  rest         26 
there  Hrest  27  vnto  E  rest         28  haue]  am  E  rest  30  the1]  thee  AB\ 

you  £  rest 


EUPHUES  TO  PHILAUTUS  223 

the  same  meanes  opportunitie  to  send  aunswere,  by  the  whiche  he 
had  pleasure  to  receiue  newes,  he  dispatched  his  letter  in  this  forme. 

H  Euphues  to  Pkilautus. 

THer  cold  nothing  haue  come  out  of  Englad,  to  Euphues  more 
welcome  the  thy  letters,  vnlesse  it  had  bin  thy  person,  which 
when  I  had  throughly  perused,  I  could  not  at  ye  first,  either  beleeue 
the  for  ye  straugnes,  or  at  the  last  for  the  happinesse  :  for  vpon  the 
sodaine  to  heare  such  alterations  of  Surius,  passed  all  credit,  and  to 
vnderstand  so  fortunate  successe  to  Philautus,  all  expectation :  yet 

jo  considering  that  manye  thinges  fall  betweene  the  cup  and  the  lippe, 
that  in  one  lucky  houre  more  rare  things  come  to  passe,  the  som- 
times  in  seuen  yeare,  that  manages  are  made  in  heauen,  though 
consumated  in  yearth,  I  was  brought  both  to  beleeue  the  euents, 
and  to  allow  them.  Touching  Surius  and  Camilla,  there  is  no  doubt 

1 5  but  that  they  both  will  lyue  well  in  manage,  who  loued  so  well  before 
theyr  matching,  and  in  my  mind  he  delt  both  wisly  &  honorably, 
to  prefer  vertue  before  vain-glory,  and  the  godly  ornaments  of  nature, 
before  the  rich  armour  of  nobilitie  :  for  this  must  we  all  think,  (how 
well  soeuer  we  think  of  our  selues)  that  vertue  is  most  noble,  by  the 

20  which  men  became  first  noble.  As  for  thine  own  estat,  I  will  be 
bold  to  cousel  thee,  knowing  it  neuer  to  be  more  necessary  to  vse 
aduise  the  in  mariag.  Solon  gaue  counsel  that  before  one  assured 
him-self  he  should  be  so  warie,  that  in  tying  him-selfe  fast,  he  did 
not  vndo  him-selfe,  wishing  them  first  to  eat  a  Quince  peare,  y*  is 

25  to  haue  sweete  conference  with-out  brawles,  then  salt  to  be  wise 
with-out  boasting. 

In  £(e(o)tia  they  couered  the  bride  with  Asparagonia  the  nature 
of  the  which  plant  is,  to  bring  sweete  fruit  out  of  a  sharpe  thorne, 
wher-by  they  noted,  that  although  the  virgin  were  somwhat  shrewishe 

30  at  the  first,  yet  in  time  shee  myght  become  a  sheepe. 

.  Therefore  Philautus,  if  thy  Uyolet  seeme  in  the  first  moneth  either 
to  chide  or  chafe,  thou  must  heare  with  out  reply,  and  endure  it  with 
patience,  for  they  that  can-not  suffer  the  wranglyngs  of  young  maryed 
women,  are  not  vnlyke  vnto  those,  that  tasting  the  grape  to  be  sower 

35  before  it  be  ripe,  leaue  to  gather  it  when  it  is  ripe,  resemblyng  them, 
that  being  stong  with  the  Bee,  forsake  the  Honny. 

4  There  could  A  rest  6  cuold  M  12  yeares  DF  rest          1 3  yearth] 

Earth  A  rest  17  goodly  DF  rest  nature]  vertue  DE  rest  25 

a  before  sweete  DE  rest  27  Boetia  MABDF  rest-.  Boetie  E  28  the 

em.  DFrest          31  seemeth  BE          32  it  om.  BE  rest          34  vnto]  to  F  rest 


224  EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Thou  must  vse  sweete  words,  not  bitter  checkes,  &  though  happely 
thou  wilt  say  that  wandes  are  to  be  wrought  when  they  are  greene, 
least  they  rather  break  then  bende  when  they  be  drye,  yet  know 
also,  that  he  that  bendeth  a  twigge,  bicause  he  would  see  if  it  wold 
bow  by  strength,  maye  chaunce  to  haue  a  crooked  tree,  when  he  5 
would  haue  a  streight. 

It  is  pretelye  noted  of  a  contention  betweene  the  Winde,  and  the 
Sunne,  who  should  haue  the  victory e.  A  Gentleman  walking  abroad, 
the  Winde  thought  to  blowe  of  his  cloake,  which  with  great  blastes 
and  blusterings  striuing  to  vnloose  it,  made  it  to  stick  faster  to  his  10 
backe,  for  the  more  the  winde  encreased  the  closer  his  cloake  clapt 
to  his  body,  then  the  Sunne,  shining  with  his  hoat  beames  began  to 
warme  this  getleman,  who  waxing  somwhat  faint  in  this  faire  weather, 
did  not  onely  put  of  his  cloake  but  his  coate,  which  the  Wynde 
perceiuing,  yeelded  the  conquest  to  the  Sunne.  15 

In  the  very  like  manner  fareth  it  w*  young  wiues,  for  if  their 
husbads  with  great  threatnings,  w*  iarres,  with  braules,  seeke  to  make 
the  tractable,  or  bend  their  knees,  the  more  stiffe  they  make  them 
in  the  ioyntes,  the  oftener  they  goe  about  by  force  to  rule  them,  the 
more  froward  they  finde  them,  but  vsing  milde  words,  gentle  per-  20 
swasions,  familyar  counsaile,  entreatie,  submission,  they  shall  not 
onely  make  them  to  bow  their  knees,  but  to  hold  vp  their  hands, 
not  onely  cause  the  to  honour  them,  but  to  stand  in  awe  of  them  : 
for  their  stomackes  are  al  framed  of  Diamond,  which  is  not  to  be 
brused  with  a  hammer  but  bloode,  not  by  force,  but  flatterie,  resem-  25 
blyng  the  Cocke,  who  is  not  to  be  feared  by  a  Serpent,  but  a  glead. 
They  that  feare  theyr  Uines  will  make  too  sharpe  wine,  must  not 
cutte  the  armes,  but  graft  next  to  them  Mandrage,  which  causeth 
the  grape  to  be  more  pleasaunt.  They  that  feare  to  haue  curst  wiues, 
must  not  with  rigor  seeke  to  calme  them,  but  saying  gentle  words  in  30 
euery  place  by  them,  which  maketh  them  more  quyet. 

Instruments  sound  sweetest,  when  they  be  touched  softest,  women 
waxe  wisest,  when  they  be  vsed  mildest.     The  horse  striueth  when 
he  is  hardly  rayned,  but  hauing  ye  bridle  neuer  stirreth,  women  are 
starke  mad  if  they  be  ruled  by  might,  but  w*  a  gentle  rayne  they  will  35 
beare  a  white  mouth.     Gal  was  cast  out  fro  ye  sacrifice  of  Iunoy 

i  happily  ^-1623:  haply  1630-36  2  are1]  bee  DF  1617,  1630-36  9 

off  DE  rest  n  his]  the  BE  rest  13  this1]  the  E  rest  14  off  BE  rest 
16  the  very  om.  DErest  25  a]  the  E  28  Mendrage  DE  rest  30  seeke 
. .  .  calme]  seeme  to  reclaime  DE  rest  33  waxe]  are  E  rest  be]  are  DF  rest 
36  Gall  A  rest 


EUPHUES  TO  PHILAUTUS  225 

which  betokened  that  the  manage  bed  should  be  without  bitternes. 
Thou  must  be  a  glasse  to  thy  wife  for  in  thy  face  must  she  see  hir 
owne,  for  if  when  thou  laughest  she  weepe,  when  thou  mournest  she 
gigle,  the  one  is  a  manifest  signe  she  delighteth  in  others,  the  other 

5  a  token  she  dispiseth  thee.  Be  in  thy  behauiour  modest,  temperate, 
sober,  for  as  thou  framest  thy  manners,  so  wil  thy  wife  fit  hirs.  Kings 
that  be  wrastlers  cause  their  subiects  to  exercise  that  feate.  Princes 
that  are  Musitians  incite  their  people  to  vse  Instruments,  husbands  that 
are  chast  and  godly,  cause  also  their  wiues  to  imitate  their  goodnesse. 

10  For  thy  great  dowry  that  ought  to  be  in  thine  own  handes,  for 
as  we  call  that  wine,  where-in  there  is  more  then  halfe  water,  so  doe 
we  tearme  that,  the  goods  of  the  husband  which  his  wife  bringeth, 
though  it  be  all. 

Helen  gaped  for  goods,  Paris  for  pleasure,  Vlysses  was  content 

15  with  chast  Penelope,  so  let  it  be  with  thee,  that  whatsoeuer  others 
marie  for,  be  thou  alwayes  satisfied  with  vertue,  otherwise  may  I  vse 
that  speach  to  thee  that  Olympias  did  to  a  young  Gentleman  who  only 
tooke  a  wife  for  beautie,  saying  :  this  Gentleman  hath  onely  maryed 
his  eyes,  but  by  that  time  he  haue  also  wedded  his  eare,  he  wil  con- 

20  fesse  that  a  faire  shooe  wringe,  though  it  be  smoothe  in  the  wearing. 
Lycurgus  made  a  law  that  there  should  be  no  dowry  giuen  with 
Maidens,  to  the  ende  that  the  vertuous  might  be  maryed,  who  com 
monly  haue  lyttle,  not  the  amorous,  who  oftentimes  haue  to  much. 
Behaue  thy  self  modestly  with  thy  wife  before  company,  remem- 

25  bring  the  seueritie  of  Cato,  who  remoued  Manilius  fro  the  Senate, 
for  that  he  was  scene  to  kisse  his  wife  in  presence  of  his  daughter : 
olde  men  are  seldome  merry  before  children,  least  their  laughter 
might  breede  in  them  loosenesse,  husbands  shold  scarce  iest  before 
their  wiues,  least  want  of  modestie  on  their  parts,  be  cause  of  wanton- 

30  nes  on  their  wiues  part.  Imitate  the  Kings  of  Persia,  who  when 
they  were  giuen  to  ryot,  kept  no  company  with  their  wiues,  but  when 
they  vsed  good  order,  had  their  Queenes  euer  at  their  table.  Giue 
no  example  of  lyghtnesse,  for  looke  what  thou  practisest  most,  yt  will 
thy  wife  follow  most,  though  it  becommeth  hir  least.  And  yet 

35  woulde  I  not  haue  thy  wife  so  curious  to  please  thee,  yfc  fearing  least 
hir  husband  shold  thinke  she  painted  hir  face,  she  shold  not  there 
fore  wash  it,  onely  let  hir  refraine  from  such  things  as  she  knoweth 

3  weepe]  sheepe  A  5  a]  is  a  F  rest  14  his  before  goods  DE  rest 

19  haue]  hath  D Brest        20  wrings  ABDE  rest        35  Manlius  all edst  (see  note) 
32  vse  E  their8]  the  DE  rest  33  practises  E 

BOND  II  Q 


226  EUPHUES  AND   HIS    ENGLAND 

canot  wel  like  thee,  he  y*  cometh  before  an  Elephat  will  not  weare 
bright  colors,  nor  he  that  cometh  to  a  Bui,  red,  nor  he  y*  standeth 
by  a  Tiger,  play  on  a  Taber :  for  that  by  the  sight  or  noyse  of  these 
things,  they  are  commonly  much  incensed.  In  the  lyke  manner, 
there  is  no  wife  if  she  be  honest,  that  will  practise  those  things,  that  $ 
to  hir  mate  shall  seeme  displeasaunt,  or  moue  him  to  cholar. 

Be  thriftie  and  wane  in  thy  expences,  for  in  olde  time,  they  were 
as  soone  condemned  by  law  that  spent  their  wiues  dowry  prodigally, 
as  they  that  diuorced  them  wrongfully. 

Flye   that  vyce  which  is  peculiar  to  al  those  of  thy  countrey,  10 
lelousie :  for  if  thou  suspect  without  cause,  it  is  the  next  way  to  haue 
cause,  women  are  to  bee  ruled  by  their  owne  wits,  for  be  they  chast, 
no  golde  canne  winne  them,  if  immodest  no  griefe  can  amende  them, 
so  that  all  mistrust  is  either  needelesse  or  bootlesse. 

Be  not  too  imperious  ouer  hir,  that  will  make  hir  to  hate  thee,  nor  15 
too  submisse,  that  will  cause  hir  to  disdaine  thee,  let  hir  neither  be 
thy  slaue,  nor  thy  souereigne,  for  if  she  lye  vnder  thy  foote  she  will 
neuer  loue  thee,  if  clyme  aboue  thy  head  neuer  care  for  thee :  the 
one  will  breed  thy  shame  to  loue  hir  to  little,  the  other  thy  griefe  to 
suffer  too  much.  ao 

In  gouerning  thy  householde,  vse  thine  owne  eye,  and  hir  hande, 
for  huswifery  consisteth  as  much  in  seeing  things  as  setlyng  things, 
and  yet  in  that  goe  not  aboue  thy  latchet,  for  Cookes  are  not  to  be 
taught  in  the  Kitchin,  nor  Painters  in  their  shoppes,  nor  Huswiues  in 
their  houses,  let  al  the  keyes  hang  at  hir  girdel,  but  the  pursse  at  thine,  25 
so  shalt  thou  knowe  what  thou  dost  spend,  and  how  she  can  spare. 

Breake  nothing  of  thy  stocke,  for  as  the  Stone  Thyrrenus  beeing 
whole,  swimmeth,  but  neuer  so  lyttle  diminished,  sinketh  to  the 
bottome  :  so  a  man  hauing  his  stocke  full,  is  euer  a  float,  but  wasting 
of  his  store,  becommeth  bankerout.  30 

Enterteine  such  men  as  shall  be  trustie,  for  if  thou  keepe  a  Wolfe 
within  thy  doores  to  doe  mischiefe,  or  a  Foxe  to  worke  craft  and 
subtiltie,  thou  shalt  finde  it  as  perrilous,  as  if  in  thy  barnes  thou 
shouldest  mainteyne  Myce,  or  in  thy  groundes  Moles. 

Let  thy  Maydens  be  such,  as  shal  seeme  readier  to  take  paynes,  35 
then  follow  pleasure,  willinger  to  dresse'  vp  theyr  house,  then  their 

10  which]  that  BE  rest  15  nor]  not  B  16  demisse  DFH 1617,  1630-36  : 
dismisse  E  :  remisse  1623  cause]  case  H  19  to3]  so  B  rest  21  thy]  thine 
^-1631  23  aboue]  about //-i 62 3  25  kayes  E  27  Thirrennius  D 

1636  :  Thirreneus  £"-1631        30  bankrupt  DFrest        32  to  worke.  .  .  FINIS  com 
pleted  from  A  (Mai.  713)       33  Barne  E  rest      34  or]  and  E  rest     ground  E  rest 


EUPHUES  TO  PHILAUTUS  227 

heades,  not  so  fine  fingered,  to  call  for  a  Lute,  when  they  shoulde 
vse  the  distaffe,  nor  so  dainetie  mouthed,  that  their  silken  throtes 
should  swallow  no  packthred. 

For  thy  dyet  be  not  sumptuous,  nor  yet  simple  :  For  thy  attyre 

5  not  costly,  nor  yet  clownish,  but  cutting  thy  coat  by  thy  cloth,  go 

no  farther  then  shal  become  thy  estate,  least  thou  be  thought  proude, 

and  so  enuied,  nor  debase  not  thy  byrth,  least  thou  be  deemed  poore, 

and  so  pittied. 

Now  thou  art  come  to  that  honourable  estate,  forget  all  thy  former 

10  follyes,  and  debate  with  thy  selfe,  that  here-to-fore  thou  diddest  but 

goe  about  the  world,  and  that  nowe,  thou  art  come  into  it,  that  Loue 

did  once  make  thee  to  folow  ryot,  that  it  muste  now  enforce  thee  to 

pursue  thrifte,  that  then  there  was  no  pleasure  to  bee  compared  to  the 

courting  of  Ladyes,  that  now  there  can  be  no  delight  greater  then  to 

15  haue  a  wife. 

Commend  me  humbly  to  that  noble  man  Surius,  and  to  his  good 
Lady  Camilla. 

Let  my  duetie  to  the  Ladie  Flauia  be  remembred,  and  to  thy 
Violyt,  let  nothing  that  may  be  added,  be  forgotten. 
20  Thou  wouldest  haue  me  come  againe  into  England,  I  woulde  but 
I  can-not  :  But  if  thou  desire  to  see  Euphues,  when  thou  art  willing 
to  visite  thine  Uncle,  I  will  meete  thee,  in  the  meane  season,  know, 
that  it  is  as  farre  from  Athens  to  England,  as  from  England  to 
Athens. 

25  Thou  sayest  I  am  much  wished  for,  that  many  fayre  promises  are 
made  to  mee  :  Truely  Philautus  I  know  that  a  friende  in  the  court 
is  better  then  a  penney  in  the  purse,  but  yet  I  haue  heard  that  suche 
a  friend  cannot  be  gotten  in  the  court  without  pence. 

Fayre  words  fatte  fewe,  great  promises  without  performance,  delight 
30  for  the  tyme,  but  yerke  euer  after. 

I  cannot  but  thanke  Surius,  who  wisheth  me  well,  and  all  those 
that  at  my  beeing  in  England  lyked  me  wel.  And  so  with  my 
hartie  commendations  vntill  I  heare  from  thee,  I  bid  thee  farewell. 

Thine  to  vse,  if  mari- 

35  age  chaunge  not  man 

ners  Euphues. 


2  the]  a  DE  rest        nor]  not  //><?.tf         23  to'2]  vnto  £-1617,  1630-36          38 
in  the  court  om.  E  rest  30  yearke  DFrest:  yeerke  £  (mod.  irk)          32  that 

dm.  E  33  commendation  £"-1617,  1630-36 


Q  2 


228  EUPHUES  AND  HIS  ENGLAND 


Letter  dispatched,  Euphues  gaue  himselfe  to  solitarinesse, 
•*"      determining  to  soiourne  in  some  vncauth  place,  vntil  time 
might  turne  white  salt  into  fine  sugar  :  for  surely  he  was  both  tor 
mented  in  body  and  grieued  in  minde. 

And  so  I  leaue  him,  neither  in  Athens  nor  els  where  that  I  know  :  5 
But  this  order  he  left  with  his  friends,  that  if  any  newes  came  or 
letters,  that  they  should  direct  them  to  the  Mount  of  Silixsedra,  where 
I  leaue  him,  eyther  to  his  musing  or  Muses. 

Entlemen,  Euphues  is  musing  in  the  bottome  of  the  Mountaine 

Silixsedra  :  Philautus  marryed  in  the  Isle  of  England  :   two  10 
friendes  parted,  the  one  liuing  in  Jhe  delightes  of  his  newe  wife,  the 
other  in  contemplation  of  his  olde  griefes. 

What  Philautus  doeth,  they  can  imagine  that  are  newly  married, 
how   Euphues  liueth,   they  may  gesse  that  are  cruelly  martyred: 
I  commit  them  both  to  stande  to  their  owne  bargaines,  for  if  I  should  15 
meddle  any  farther  with  the  marriage  of  Philautus,  it  might  happely 
make  him  iealous,  if  with  the  melancholy  of  Euphues,  it  might  cause 
him  to  be  cholaricke  :  so  the  one  would  take  occasion  to  rub  his 
head,  sit  his  hat  neuer  so  close,  and  the  other  offence,  to  gall  his 
heart,  be  his  case  neuer  so  quiet.     I  Gentlewomen,  am  indifferent,  20 
for  it  may  be,  that  Philautus  would  not  haue  his  life  knowen  which 
he  leadeth  in  mariage,  nor  Euphues,  his  loue  descryed,  which  he 
beginneth  in  solitarinesse  :    least  either  the  one  being  too  kinde, 
might  be  thought  to  doat,  or  the  other  too  constant,  might  be  iudged 
to  bee  madde.     But  were  the  trueth  knowen,  I  am  sure  Gentle-  25 
women,  it  would  be  a  hard  question  among  Ladies,  whe 
ther  Philautus  were  a  better  wooer,  or  a  husband,  whe 
ther  Euphues  were  a  better  louer,  or  a  scholler.     But 
let  the  one  marke  the  other,  I  leaue  them  both, 

to  conferre  at  theyr  next  meeting,  and  3° 

committe  you,  to  the  Al- 
mightie. 

FINIS. 

H  Imprinted  at  London,  by  Thomas  East,  for  Gabriel 

Cawood  dwelling  in  Paules  Churchyard.     1580.  35 

2  vncouth  BDE  rest         10  is  before  marryed  DE  rest        16  happily  £"-1623  : 
haply  1630-36  34  The  colophon  of  B  is  precisely  the  same  as  that  here  given 

from  A,  save  that  the  leaf  is  mutilated  and  Gabriel  and  1580  are  torn  away.     No 
other  edition  has  any  colophon 


THE    PLAYS 


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LYLY  AS  A  PLAYWRIGHT1 

JOHN  Lyly  was  the  author  of  eight  plays,  with  a  possible  but  doubt 
ful  and  in  any  case  slight  share  in  a  ninth,  The  Maydes  Metamor 
phosis.  The  conclusions  I  have  reached  about  their  dates  of  com 
position  and  production  are  tabulated  on  the  opposite  page  :  for  the 
grounds  of  the  order  I  assign  I  must  refer  the  reader  to  the  discussion 
of  '  Date'  in  the  introductory  matter  prefixed  to  each.  Here  I  have 
only  to  note,  generally,  that  my  investigation  leads  me  to  affirm  the 
order  of  their  first  publication,  and  of  Blount's  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies, 
as  that  also  of  their  composition ;  with  the  single  exception  of  En- 
dimion,  which  must,  I  feel  convinced,  have  been  produced  after 
Gallathea  and  perhaps  after  the  earlier  version  of  Loves  Metamor 
phosis^  but  before  Midas. 

I.  REMARKS  ON  THE  DRAMA  ANTECEDENT  TO  LYLY. 

The  importance  of  Lyly's  dramatic  work  is  greater  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  drama's  development  than  in  regard  to  its  absolute 
literary  merit,  though  I  am  far  from  thinking  that  it  has  received  its 
merited  recognition  even  in  this  latter  respect.  These  eight  plays 
are  chiefly  remarkable  because  they  appear  on  the  very  threshold  of 
self-conscious  fully-developed  dramatic  art  in  England.  For  some 
two  hundred  years  before  this  point  the  history  of  our  drama  is  the 
history  of  religious  and  moral  education  by  stage-representation, 
using  as  its  chief  instrument  allegorical  personification.  The  dramatic 
work  of  this  period  is  covered  by  the  general  name  of  Moralities  or 
Moral-Plays;  stretching  from  the  first  introduction  of  abstract  per 
sonages — Truth,  Justice,  Mercy  and  the  like — into  the  Miracle-Plays 
to  amplify,  explain,  or  point  the  lesson  of  the  sacred  narrative 
represented,  on  to  their  appearance  as  a  separate  species  designed  to 
convey  doctrinal  or  practical  teaching  as  distinct  from  historical,  and 
then  through  the  various  stages  of  treatment  of  God's  dealings  with 
the  human  race  as  a  whole  (e.  g.  The  Castell  of  Perseverance  >  Every- 
man\  inculcation  of  warnings  or  exhortations  in  regard  to  a  part  of 

1  For  a  summary  of  the  contents  of  this  Essay,  see  Index,  voL  iii. 


232  LYLY  AS  A  PLAYWRIGHT 

life  or  to  particular  temptations  (e.  g.  Hickscorner,  Lusty  Juventus), 
the  diffusion  of  knowledge  or  the  praise  of  learning  (e.  g.  Interlude  of 
the  Four  Elements,  The  Marriage  of  Wit  and  Science),  the  appearance 
of  political  and  satirical  allusions  and  the  increasing  intermingling  of 
comic  matter  and  approximation  to  real  life  (e.  g,  Thersites,  Jack 
Juggler,  The  Nice  Wanton,  The  Disobedient  Child,  &<;.).  Allegorical 
personification,  i.  e.  the  representation  by  single  figures  of  virtues, 
vices,  actions,  feelings  and  states  of  mind,  or  of  classes  of  men, 
trades  and  occupations — in  a  word  the  attempt  to  present  the 
abstract  in  a  concrete  individual  form — is  the  general  note  of  the 
whole  process  :  and  since  human  personality,  which  is  a  complex  of 
innumerable  feelings,  states  and  actions,  cannot  properly  be  repre 
sented  as  of  only  one  feeling,  state  or  action,  nor  can  the  merely 
generic  qualities  of  a  body  or  class  of  men  be  widened  to  a  man 
—for  reality  can  only  be  given  to  such  figures  by  introducing  a 
variety  inconsistent  with  the  simple  personification  allotted  them — 
this  vast  body  of  work  is  excluded  from  the  title  of  drama. 
Pure  We  must  mark  1530  as  the  approximate  date  when  the  latter 

appears  begins  to  emerge  in  those  single  scenes  of  John  Heywood  which 
T53o-i56o.  have  obtained  the  name  of  Interludes.  About  ten  years  later,  in 
1540,  we  get  our  first  pure  comedy  in  UdalFs  Ralph  Roister  Doister  ; 
ten  years  after  that  (before  1552)  our  first  dramatization  of  history  in 
Bale's  Kynge  Johan ;  and  about  ten  years  later  still,  in  1561,  the 
performance  of  our  first  English  tragedy,  Norton  and  Sackville's 
Gorboduc.  From  1562-1570,  says  Collier1,  Moral-Plays  divided  the 
stage  with  early  attempts  in  Tragedy,  Comedy,  and  History,  and 
endeavours  were  made  to  combine  the  two  methods  of  writing :  but 
after  the  latter  date  the  Moralities  declined  in  popularity,  though 
they  lingered  till  1600. 

But  mixed  The  point  about  this  progress  which  requires  emphasis  is  its 
drama  continuity.  It  would  be  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  after  1540  pure 
Morality  comedies  were  frequently  written,  or  regular  tragedies  after  1561. 

type  holds     Roister  Doister  and  Gorboduc  were  single  efforts  by  men  of  classical 

the  stage  3 

until  Lyly,  cultivation,  which  may  have  found  an  imitator  here  and  there,  but 

1580.  the  generai  result  of  which,  during  this  period  of  the  drama's  incuba 

tion,  was  simply  to  introduce  a  greater  preponderance  of  human 
elements  into  the  Moralities  which  still  held  the  stage.  After  1530 
the  Moralities  are  seldom,  if  ever,  found  pure,  without  infusion  of 
human  characters ;  while  the  earliest  tentatives  in  history,  tragedy,  or 
1  History  of  Dramatic  Poetry,  ii.  326-7. 


MIXED  WORK  BEFORE  LYLY  233 

comedy  are  generally  mingled  with  allegorical  personages  and  a  Vice 
borrowed  from  the  Moralities.  The  Moralities  are  in  course  of 
becoming  dramas:  but  these  early  tentatives  in  history,  tragedy, 
or  comedy  are  still  Moralities.  Except  in  a  very  few  cases  the 
pieces  are  identical.  Even  in  Kynge  Johan,  generally  considered 
our  first  historical  play,  there  is  a  Vice,  Sedition,  and  generic  types 
like  Nobility  and  Clergy :  so  are  there  in  the  later  and  inferior 
Cambyses  (circ.  1561)  of  Preston,  and  the  much  poorer  Appius  and 
Virginia  (circ.  1563),  which,  with  Damon  and  Pit  hi  as,  are  the  only 
other  extant  plays  on  historical  subjects  preceding  Campaspe.  So, 
too,  in  Jack  Juggler  we  have  a  piece  produced  almost  at  the  same 
time  as  Roister  Doister  (circ.  1540),  which,  except  that  it  is  ushered 
in  by  an  Expositor,  that  it  is  less  regularly  constructed,  and  that 
there  is  a  distinct  air  of  sulphur  about  Jack  himself,  has  quite  as 
good  a  claim  to  the  title  of  pure  comedy.  In  regard  to  Collier's  list 
of  fifty-two  plays  given  at  Court  between  1568-1 580*  inclusive,  of 
which  he  considers  that  eighteen  were  based  on  classical  subjects, 
twenty-one  derived  from  modern  history,  romances,  or  stories  of  a 
more  general  kind,  seven  may  have  been  comedies,  and  six  Moral- 
Plays,  we  must  remark  that,  as  they  have  all  perished,  we  have  only 
their  titles  to  judge  from ;  that  their  disappearance,  in  spite  of  their 
enjoyment,  through  Court-performance,  of  the  best  chance  of  preserva 
tion,  is  good  argument  for  supposing  that  they  were  not  superior 
in  novelty,  human  interest,  or  dramatic  merit  to  those  which  have 
survived ;  and  that  the  best  commentary  on  them  is  furnished  by 
these  latter,  among  which  I  find  not  more  than  four  pieces  besides 
Roister  Doister  and  Gorboduc  which  deserve  the  title  of  pure  comedy 
or  tragedy  at  all.  These  four  are  Gammer  Gurtorfs  Needle  (ent.  Sta. 
Reg.  1563),  Damon  and  Pithias  (played  1564?),  Tancred  and  Gis- 
munda  (MS.  1568),  Promos  and  Cassandra  (printed  1578).  The 
first  is  a  rude  country-farce,  whose  pervading  coarseness  throws 
a  curious  light  on  the  springs  of  Tudor  merriment.  The  third 
is  a  classical  tragedy  on  the  lines  of  Gorboduc,  though  far  inferior 
to  that  even  in  its  printed  form,  which  represents  a  revision  made  in 
1591.  The  other  two  are  pure  comedies.  Promos  and  Cassandra, 
as  its  author,  Whetstone,  informs  us  in  1582,  was  'yet  never  pre 
sented  upon  stage.'  Damon  and  Pithias  is  the  sole  surviving  play 
of  Richard  Edwardes,  a  predecessor  of  Lyly  in  catering  for  the 
royal  amusement,  whose  labours  are  classed  by  Puttenham  in  i^Sy2 
1  Hist.  Dram.  Poet.  ii.  410-1.  2  The  Arte  of  Poesie,  p.  77,  ed.  Arber. 


234  LYLY  AS  A  PLAYWRIGHT 

with  those  of  that  eccentric  genius,  Edward  de  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford, 
as  'deseruing  the  hyest  price  for  Comedy  and  Enterlude.'  Both 
Whetstone's  and  Edwardes'  work  will  require  a  little  more  attention 
further  on.  They  are  mentioned  here  as  indicating  the  high-water 
mark  reached  by  Comedy  in  England  before  Campaspe,  and  as 
forming  indeed,  with  Gammer  Gurton,  the  sole  surviving  instances 
of  pure  Comedy  in  the  thirty  years  immediately  preceding  Lyly. 
Probably  Edwardes'  lost  Palamon  and  Arcite  was  a  pure  comedy,  all 
or  some  of  Oxford's  work  may  have  been  such,  and  so  may  a  few  of 
the  plays  named  in  Collier's  list :  but  the  fact  remains  that  the  great 
majority  of  surviving  pieces  anterior  to  Campaspe  (1580)  are  not 
pure,  but  largely  intermingled  with  abstract  personages  and  the 
symbolism  proper  to  the  Moral-Plays ;  and  that  the  production  of 
such  mixed  pieces  continues  for  more  than  ten  years  after  that  date. 
Under  these  circumstances  it  is  a  mistake  to  regard  the  reign  of 
drama  proper  as  having  in  any  real  sense  commenced  before  1580, 
as  Collier's  account  seems  to  imply  it  had.  Up  to  Lyly  in  fact  it  is 
still  embryonic.  The  distinctions  marked  by  modern  critics  between 
Moral-Play,  Interlude,  History,  Tragedy,  Comedy,  Pastoral,  &c., 
were  hardly  perceptible  to  the  contemporaries  of  the  process,  the 
several  steps  in  which  were  taken  with  hesitation  and  delay.  Tran 
sition  was  going  on,  but  can  be  indicated  by  periods  better  than  by 
moments,  and  hardly  with  precision  at  all.  The  advance  is  always 
partial,  the  whole  movement  continuous. 

But  when  in  1580  we  reach  a  large  body  of  work  by  a  single 
hand  which  definitely  breaks  with  the  tradition  that  preceded  it,  we 
are  justified  in  regarding  its  author  as  the  first  regular  English 
dramatist :  and  at  this  date  it  is  natural,  as  before  turning  to  Lyly's 
work  it  is  necessary,  to  glance  at  the  condition  in  which  he  found 
the  stage,  and  briefly  summarise  the  achievement  of  the  long  period 
of  preparation  through  which  it  had  passed. 

The  Looked  at  as  a  whole,  the  grand,  though  unconscious,  function  of 

Moralities    fae  Moralities,  fulfilled  by  the  time  of  Lyly's  advent,  was  the  secu- 

seculanzed  ,  ,  .     , 

the  drama  larization  of  the  drama,  both  in  subject  and  purpose.  Forced  along 
its  path  of  evolution  by  the  selective  impulse  of  popular  approval, 
the  stage  had  turned  gradually  from  the  representation  of  religious 
truth  to  the  representation  of  life,  and  substituted  for  a  purpose 
at  first  entirely  didactic  a  purpose  of  amusement.  This  secularizing 
process  has  two  main  consequences,  or  constituents,  closely  connected 
with  each  other. 


MORAL-PLAYS  SECULARIZED  THE   DRAMA       235 

(1)  The  presentation  of  human  character  becomes  the  proper  business  (i)  devot- 
of  the  drama.     The  abstract  personages,  the  types  and  personifi-  ™fe%S;on 
cations  of  qualities  and  states,  virtues  and  vices,  which  had  been  at  to  human 
first  a  mere  accessory  of  the  Miracle-Plays,  gradually  became  an  character 
object  in  themselves ;  and  the  further  step  from  the  personification 

of  a  quality  to  that  of  a  congeries  of  qualities,  a  human  being,  might 
be  long  but  was  inevitable.  Nor  are  we  really  justified  in  regarding 
this  era  of  allegorical  personification  as  a  retrogression  \  So  long  as 
a  prescribed  series  of  events  or  a  fixed  body  of  doctrine  was  to  be 
represented,  as  in  the  Miracles  and  earliest  liturgical  Moralities, 
human  character  could  only  be  shown  in  that  limited  degree  in 
which  it  appeared  in  the  given  series  of  events,  or  in  which  it  could 
be  made  to  illustrate  the  given  doctrine.  But,  freed  from  the  tram 
mels  of  a  predetermined  plan,  the  Moralist  could  deal  with  his 
personified  vices  and  virtues  more  fully  and  at  large;  and,  more 
than  that,  his  exhibition  of  them  became  the  main  thing,  and  not  an 
aim  subordinate  to  that  of  dramatizing  a  story.  Such  story  as  his 
piece  contained  would  arise  out  of  the  interplay  of  those  personified 
qualities ;  a  circumstance  wherein  we  may  find  the  germ  of  the  sound 
principle  that  plot  should  be  generated  by,  rather  than  imposed  on, 
character.  Moreover  single  qualities,  if  they  are  not  human  beings, 
are  the  constituent  elements  of  human  beings ;  and  this  period  of 
concentration  on  the  single  facets  of  character  must  have  formed 
an  admirable  school  for  the  presentation  of  character  as  a  whole, 
at  least  for  those  writers  who  lived  in  the  latest  period  of  the  Moral- 
Plays,  when  the  drama  proper  was  beginning  to  emerge.  Analysis, 
or  the  study  of  parts,  is  the  first  condition  of  a  true  imaginative 
synthesis. 

(2)  The  rights  of  the  imagination  are  asserted.     Invention,  at  first   (a)  subject- 
the  handmaid  of  tradition,  now  becomes  independent  or  responsible  ^^truct- & 
only  to  reason.     The  respective  positions  of  subject  and  treatment  iveimagin- 
are  reversed :  and  whereas  in  earlier  days  the  play  must  follow  the  a  wn' 
subject,  the  subject   is   henceforward   entirely  subordinate   to  the 
dramatist's  will,  and  especially  to  what  he  feels  desirable  from  the 

point  of  view  of  character.  At  the  same  time  the  prime  neces 
sity  of  interesting  people  who  are  not  all  psychologists,  and  the 

1  Perhaps  the  single  cavil  I  should  venture  against  Mr.  A.  W.  Pollard's 
admirable  introduction  to  English  Miracle  Plays  (Clar.  Press)  would  be  that  he 
hardly  perceives  the  importance  of  personification  of  qualities  as  a  step  towards 
true  characterization.  See  p.  xliii. 


236  LYLY  AS   A  PLAYWRIGHT 

limitations  of  his  own  invention,  compel  the  dramatist  to  lean  largely 
on  established  fact,  leading  him  to  borrow  his  matter  whence  he  can, 
but  modify  it  as  he  pleases.  So  emerges  the  idea  of  constructed 
Plot,  with  the  further  liberty  of  introducing  such  ornament,  of  wit,  of 
learning,  of  eloquence,  of  poetry,  as  his  own  information  and  capa 
city,  or  the  slow  growth  of  taste,  render  possible. 

So  then  we  find  that,  by  1580,  the  same  tendency  to  character 
ization  which  had  led  the  English  stage  from  the  Bible  and  the 
Hagiology  to  the  personification  of  human  qualities  has  brought  it 
back  again  to  actual  men  and  women,  to  whose  representation 
it  returns  with  the  fuller  grasp  and  power  of  portraiture  engendered 
by  the  school  through  which  it  has  passed.  It  has  learned,  mean 
while,  to  draw  its  material  from  a  far  wider  range,  to  lay  under 
contribution  the  whole  field  of  classical  history  and  mythology,  as 
well  as  the  incidents  of  contemporary  life,  in  Court  and  countryside, 
in  the  tavern  and  the  street ;  while  it  is  beginning  to  exhibit,  in  its 
reproduction  of  what  it  has  read  or  observed,  something  of  the 
ideality  and  poetry  that  mark  the  creative  artist.  English  Drama 
had  entered  on  the  period  of  the  Moral-Plays  the  conventional 
interpreter  to  an  illiterate  populace  of  fixed  religious  traditions,  from 
whose  beauty  and  sanctity  it  often  derogated  in  the  process.  It 
issued  from  that  period  still  hampered,  indeed,  by  conventions,  but 
wielder  of  a  new  power  of  conscious  invention ;  with  some  notion  of 
grouping,  some  intelligence  of  motive,  and  ambitious  to  impart 
dignity  and  seriousness  by  its  own  treatment  rather  than  to  owe  them 
merely  to  the  august  character  of  its  established  themes.  It  aims 
now,  chiefly,  at  depicting  many-sided  life  :  yet  in  abandoning  religion 
and  instruction  as  its  main  object,  it  has  not  ceased  to  be  instructive. 
Didactic  purpose  may  have  vanished,  but  didactic  results  remain : 
perhaps  it  would  be  truer  to  say  that  didactic  purpose  is  still  present, 
and  must  ever  be  present  if  the  work  is  to  be  noble  and  impressive ; 
but  it  has  learned  to  instil  its  lesson  silently,  not  to  force  it  down  the 
throat,  it  consents  to  teach  under  the  conditions  of  amusing  and 
interesting.  Since  human  life  interests  mainly  as  it  is  the  embodi 
ment  and  result  of  human  characteristics,  the  stage  becomes  the 
school  of  human  character ;  and  the  drama,  though  an  amusement, 
remains  ethical. 

But  in  These  are  the  effects  perceptible  to  one  who  reviews  the  long 

jnttufis       Period   1380-1580  as  a  whole  t    but  in  truth,  though   a   modern 

still  unde-     observer  can  trace  the  process  distinctly,  the  results  of  this  silent 
tided 


ABSENCE  OF  DRAMATIC  PRINCIPLES  237 

evolution  were  as  yet  but  partially  recognized,  were  indeed  still 
incomplete.  The  bulk  of  the  work  immediately  preceding  Lyly  was 
still  chaotic  in  form  and  substance ;  of  hybrid  nature  and  indecisive 
aim,  part  sermon,  part  story,  half  spectacle,  half  rough-and-tumble 
romp.  The  general  design  of  entertaining  was  common  to  it  all ;  that 
was  the  condition  of  its  existence,  the  motive  that  called  into  being 
the  whole  class  of  professional  players  and  induced  individuals  to 
supply  them  with  matter  for  performance.  And  we  may  further  take 
it  that  the  end  of  the  drama  was  by  this  time  generally  recognized  to 
be  the  representation  of  human  life,  to  which  any  other  matter,  such 
as  spectacle,  or  clownage,  should  be  subordinate.  But  for  a  clear  (a)  in 
perception  of  the  means  by  which  this  representation  may  be  made 
effective — a  perception  that  the  elements  employed  should  possess 
a  certain  congruity,  or  that,  if  incongruous  elements  are  employed, 
and  allegorical,  supernatural,  and  human  personages  intermingled, 
the  mingling  should  be  postulated  and  presupposed ;  that  probability 
must  not  be  outraged  by  gross  anachronisms  in  plan ;  that  repre 
sented  matter  should  possess  completeness,  finality,  and  interdepend 
ence,  and  that  a  plot  is  not  made  by  taking  a  mere  chance  excerpt 
from  the  shifting  scene  of  human  life,  nor  by  transcribing  some  tale 
without  manipulation  by  compression,  selection,  and  idealization; 
that  character  is  of  paramount  importance,  not  only  in  itself,  but  as 
the  engine  of  plot ; — for  any  clear  and  general  recognition  of  these 
things  we  may  look  in  vain. 

Allied  with  this  absence  of  regulating  principles,  this  incapacity  to  (*)  *'«  stage 
define  the  rights  and  limitations  of  the  imagination  in  the  treatment  conventton 
of  subject,  is  the  dramatist's  uncertainty  on  the  point  of  realism  and 
idealism  in  the  manner  of  its  production  on  the  stage.  We  have 
a  perpetual  conflict  between  what  the  spectators  actually  see  and 
what  they  are  supposed  to  see,  between  the  time  actually  passed  and 
that  supposed  to  have  elapsed;  an  outrageous  demand  on  the 
imagination  in  one  place,  a  refusal  to  exercise  or  allow  us  to  exercise 
it  in  another :  we  have  the  evidence,  in  short,  of  a  stage-convention 
not  yet  fixed,  but  which  is  gradually  acquiring  fixity  as  the  playwrights 
gain  experience  and  become  acquainted  with  the  rules  of  the  Roman 
and  Italian  stage.  The  infusion  of  a  share  at  least  of  order  and  regu 
larity  was  the  great  service  rendered  to  the  Romantic  Drama  by  that 
abortive  effort  to  resuscitate  classical  drama,  which  gave  birth  to 
Gorboduc,  Tancred  and  Gismunda,  The  Misfortunes  of  Arthur *,  and 
later  to  the  Cleopatra  and  Philotas  of  Samuel  Daniel. 


238 


LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 


(f)  in  lite-  And  lastly  the  literary  form,  mechanical  or  spiritual,  is  still  chaotic 
raryform.  or  poverty-stricken.  Mechanically  —  though  some  effort  at  unity  is 
perceptible,  and  a  progress  may  be  traced  from  the  rambling  doggrell 
of  Roister  Doister  and  Kynge  Johan^  chopped  into  rough  lengths 
with  a  rhyme  at  the  end,  to  the  i2-and-i4-sy  liable  Alexandrine 
adopted  about  1560,  on  to  the  lo-syllable  line  rhymed  alternately 
or  in  couplets,  the  adoption  of  which  and  of  greater  regularity  in 
metre  may  be  put  about  1568-1570  (e.g.  The  Marriage  of  Wit  and 
Science},  and  finally  (1584-1590)  to  the  ic-syllable  unrhymed  line 
or  blank  verse—  though  this  progress  is  traceable,  yet  practice  is  not 
fixed,  and  the  various  competing  forms,  to  which  we  should  add 
verse  of  dactylic  movement,  make  their  appearance  in  the  same  play 
side  by  side.  And,  on  the  spiritual  side,  the  entrance  into  dramatic 
work  of  literary  skill  and  mastery  over  words,  as  shown  in  diction 
elegant,  nervous,  and  precise,  in  sentiment  of  force  and  fire  and 
poetic  beauty,  is  long  delayed,  and  has  rarely  been  visible  at  all 
before  1580;  though  ethical  import,  and  the  elements  of  humour 
and  pathos  had  been  present,  however  rudely,  with  whatever  failure 
to  recognize  shades  and  gradations  in  the  gamut  of  human  feeling, 
from  the  very  first. 

Illustra-          The  actual  stage  reached  is  rather  favourably  represented  in  the 

^anwnand  two  P*eces  w^^c^  I  nave  mentioned  above  as  the  high-water  mark  of 

Pithias,        comedy  before  Lyly  —  the  Damon  and  Pithias  of  Richard  Edwardes, 

ctrc.  1564.     c}rc^  ^64,  and  the  Two  Parts  of  Promos  and  Cassandra  by  George 

Whetstone,  printed  1578.     The  former  piece  anticipates  Lyly,  who 

was  evidently  familiar  with  it  *,  in  the  spirit  of  the  Page-scenes  (Grim, 

Will,  and  Jack  are  reproduced  with  improvements  in  Motto  the 

barber,  Licio  and  Petulus  in  Midas\  in  the  balancing  of  pairs  of 

characters  with  a  central  personage  in  authority  and  another  to  give 

wise  advice,  in  the  introduction  of  four  or  five  songs2,  and  in  the 

liberal  use  of  English  proverbs  and  Latin  quotations.     Doubtless  it 

was  written  for  the  Children  of  the  Chapel,  of  which  Edwardes  was 

one  of  the  '  Gentlemen.' 

The  Prologue,  which  alludes  to  previous  wanton  c  toying  plays  '  of 
the  same  author,  is  interesting  as  announcing  his  dramatic  creed, 

1  Euphues  exhibits  traces  of  it  in  the  description  of  the  friendship  between  the 
hero  and  Fhilautus  ;  the  frequent  allusion  to  Damon  and  Pithias,  the  counsellor 
Eubulus,  Euphues'  warning  his  friend  on  their  arrival  in  England  not  to  seem  too 
curious  about  the  fortifications,  and  the  reproduction  or  translation  of  five  or  six  of 
its  quotations. 

8  One  seems  to  be  lost  ;  see  the  stage-direction,  Hazlitt's  Dodsky,  iv.  p.  58. 


EDWARDES'  DAMON  AND  PITHIAS  239 

i.e.  as  the  earliest  critical  utterance  extant,  anticipating  by  some 
fifteen  to  twenty  years  Whetstone's  Dedication  and  Sidney's  Apologie, 
Edwardes  gives  to  his  piece,  '  matter  mixed  with  mirth  and  care,'  the 
name  of  a  'tragical  comedy,'  thus  asserting  the  right  to  mingle 
the  two  elements  which  Sidney  and  the  scholars  afterwards  denied  \ 
though  at  the  same  time  he  professes  allegiance  to  Horace.  He 
insists  that  the  language  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  personages  shall 
be  consistent  with  their  several  characters  and  positions,  a  principle 
he  may  fairly  be  said  to  observe  e.  g.  in  Grim  the  collier,  Gronno  the 
hangman,  and  Stephano  the  confidential  servant  of  the  two  friends. 

In  comedies  the  greatest  skill  is  this,  rightly  to  touch 
All  things  to  the  quick;   and  eke  to  frame  each  person  so, 
That  by  his  common  talk  you  may  his  nature  rightly  know: 
A  roister  ought  not  preach,  that  were  too  strange  to  hear, 
But  as  from  virtue  he  doth  swerve,  so  ought  his  words  appear : 
The  old  man  is  sober,  the  young  man  rash,  the  lover  triumphing 

in  joys. 

The  matron  grave,  the  harlot  wild,  and  full  of  wanton  toys. 
Which  all  in  one  course  they  no  wise  do  agree ; 
So  correspondent  to  their  kind  their  speeches  ought  to  be. 
Which  speeches  well-pronounced,  with  action  lively  framed, 
If  this  offend  the  lookers  on,  let  Horace  then  be  blamed, 
Which  hath  our  author  taught  at  school,  from  whom  he  doth  not 

swerve, 
In  all  such  kind  of  exercise  decorum  to  observe. 

Lastly  the  protest 

We  talk  of  Dionysius'  Court,  we  mean  no  court  but  that 
is  evidence  that  already,  some  score  of  years  before  Lyly,  allegorical 
allusion  to  current  events  was  not  unknown  upon  the  stage. 

The  play  itself  deserves  the  praise  of  design :  the  matter  is  so 
handled  as  to  keep  the  subject,  the  nature  of  true  friendship,  in  view 
throughout.  The  magnanimous  league  between  the  two  friends^ 
which  enlists  for  them  a  general  sympathy,  kindles  the  good  Eubulus 
to  efforts  on  their  behalf,  awakens  pity  even  in  the  time-serving 
Aristippus,  and  finally  converts  the  tyrant  himself,  is  contrasted  with 
the  hollow  and  self-seeking  compact  between  the  flatterer  Aristippus 
and  the  informer  Carisophus,  which  profits  neither,  and  falls  to  pieces 
at  the  first  breath  of  adversity ;  and  it  is  balanced  on  the  comic  side 
by  the  relation  between  the  pages,  Will  and  Jack,  who  alternately 

1  An  ApoJogie  for  Poetrie,  composed  about  1581,  first  printed  1595 ;  p.  65, 
ed.  Arber. 


240  LYLY  AS  A   PLAYWRIGHT 

quarrel  and  unite  to  bamboozle  Grim  the  collier.  Though  the  pages 
come  to  blows  in  defence  of  their  respective  masters'  credit,  yet  Jack 
evidently  despises  Carisophus,  and  will  not  stir  a  finger  to  aid  him 
against  the  cudgel  with  which  Stephano  revenges  his  master  Damon's 
wrong.  The  piece  may  thus  boast  an  adequate  unity;  and  the  comic 
portion  is  given,  if  not  a  vital,  at  least  an  external  connexion  with 
the  main  action  by  making  Damon's  fate  the  subject  of  talk  between 
Grim  and  the  pages.  The  author  evidently  felt  connexion  to  be 
neeessary.  Gronno  the  hangman  exhibits  a  grim  humour,  like  that 
of  Abhorson  in  Measure  for  Measure  or  of  the  Gaoler  in  Cymbeline. 
The  total  absence  of  female  characters  is  a  defect ;  and  anachronism 
is  carried  to  a  further  point  than  in  Lylian  work  by  the  introduction 
at  Syracuse  of  a  Croydon  collier,  the  exchange  of  French  phrases 
between  him  and  Jack,  an  allusion  to  Pope  Joan,  and  the  exclamation 
*  James  Christe,'  while  even  Aristippus  mentions  '  Christmas '  and 
'the  three  Cranes  in  Vintree.'  Though  the  piece  is  free  from 
allegorical  personages,  yet  the  mythological  Muses  are  unexpectedly 
introduced  bewailing  Pithias'  fate  in  duet  with  Eubulus.  There  are 
no  divisions  into  Acts  and  scenes  marked,  but  the  piece  may  be 
portioned,  by  the  directions  for  exit,  into  five  Acts,  between  which  the 
required  intervals  of  time  may  fall,  the  longest  being  that  of  the  '  two 
months '  of  Damon's  absence  between  Acts  iii  and  iv,  a  single  day 
in  each  case  sufficing  for  the  others.  There  is  no  instance  of  an 
imaginary  transfer  of  place  within  the  limits  of  a  scene  :  indeed  the 
action  may  consistently  be  confined  to  a  single  locality,  a  public 
place  outside  the  palace,  including  the  house  where  the  friends 
lodge.  But  Edwardes  fails  to  produce  a  proper  interplay  between 
his  characters.  Too  many  of  his  scenes  are  mere  soliloquies  or 
duologues,  without  action ;  though  those  of  Damon's  arrest,  of  Pithias 
offering  himself  as  pledge,  of  the  shaving  of  the  collier,  and  of  the 
denouement,  may  be  excepted. 

But  the  prime  defect  to  modern  ears  of  this  and  all  plays  of  the 
time  is  its  inability  to  move  with  ease  and  naturalness  except  in 
the  comic  portions.  It  is  impossible  not  to  feel  that  good  material 
is  being  spoiled  for  sheer  want  of  literary  skill.  The  want  of 
smoothness  continually  distracts  attention  from  the  story  and  the 
characters.  The  stilted  effect,  fatal  to  all  verisimilitude,  is  due 
partly  to  ill  management  of  the  scenes,  partly  to  the  absence  of 
emotional  and  poetic  vigour  in  the  diction,  but  mainly  to  the 
unskilful  employment  of  rhyme,  secured  often  by  strained  inversions, 


ITS   METRICAL  IRREGULARITY  -241 

and  the  absence  of  a  fixed  metrical  principle.  Edwardes  employs 
ordinarily  the  long  shambling  doggrell  of  Roister  Doister,  making 
no  attempt  to  count  either  syllables  or  accents,  content  to  insert 
a  rhyme  after  a  certain  interval,  sometimes  merely  repeating  the 
previous  word,  sometimes  rhyming  a  monosyllable  with  a  di- 
syllable  of  penultimate  accent,  e.  g.  '  nip '  with  '  friendship.'  Here 
and  there,  especially  at  the  commencement,  the  verse  seems  dactylic; 
elsewhere  it  leans  to  the  Alexandrine  in  twelve  or  fourteen  syllables. 
Greater  regularity  appears  in  the  last  Act,  which  is  opened  by 
Eubulus  with  four  six-lined  stanzas  of  decasyllabic  verse  rhyming 
ababcc,  while  the  closing  pages  beginning  with  Damon's  speech  to 
the  tyrant  are  written  fairly  evenly  in  the  fourteener.  This  is  the 
least  faulty  verse  of  the  play;  but  the  touch  of  poetry  is  quite  wanting, 
nor  is  it  found  even  in  the  songs.  In  several  places  throughout  the 
play  the  rhyme  is  dropped  for  a  line  or  two,  as  though  the  author 
were  half  in  the  mind  to  abandon  his  hobbling  jingle  for  confessed 
prose  \ 

1  I  cannot  better  exhibit  Lyly's  immense  superiority  over  his  predecessors  in 
literary  form  than  by  giving  a  single  passage  from  Edwardes'  play,  quite  a  fair 
average  specimen  in  diction,  sentiment,  and  versification ;  reminding  the  reader 
at  the  same  time  that  Damon  and  Pithias  is  the  best  comedy  of  its  date,  though 
inferior  to  Whetstone's  work  of  1578. 

*  Can's.     Sith  we  are  now  so  friendly  joined,  it  seemeth  to  me, 
That  one  of  us  help  each  other  in  every  degree : 
Prefer  you  my  cause,  when  you  are  in  presence, 
To  further  your  matters  to  the  king  let  me  alone  in  your  absence. 
Arist.     Friend  Carisophus,  this  shall  be  done  as  you  would  wish : 
But  I  pray  you  tell  me  thus  much  by  the  way, 
Whither  now  from  this  place  will  you  take  your  journey  ? 
Carts.     I  will  not  dissemble,  that  were  against  friendship, 
I  go  into  the  city  some  knaves  to  nip 
For  talk,  with  their  goods  to  increase  the  king's  treasure, 
In  such  kind  of  service  I  set  my  chief  pleasure. 
Farewell,  friend  Aristippus,  now  for  a  time.  \_Exit. 

Arist.     Adieu,  friend  Carisophus. — In  good  faith  now, 
Of  force  I  must  laugh  at  this  solemn  vow. 
Is  Aristippus  link'd  in  friendship  with  Carisophus  ? 
Quid  cum  tanto  asino  talis  philosophus  ? 
They  say,  Morum  similitude  consult  amicitias ; 
Then  how  can  this  friendship  between  us  two  come  to  pass? 
W7e  are  as  like  in  condition  as  Jack  Fletcher  and  his  bolt ; 
I  brought  up  in  learning,  but  he  is  a  very  dolt 
As  touching  good  letters ;   but  otherwise  such  a  crafty  knave, 
If  you  seek  a  whole  region,  his  like  you  cannot  have : 
A  villain  for  his  life,  a  varlet  dyed  in  grain, 
You  lose  money  by  him,  if  you  sell  him  for  one  knave,  for  he  serves 

for  twain  : 

A  flattering  parasite,  a  sycophant  also, 
A  common  accuser  of  men,  to  the  good  an  open  foe.'     &c. 

Hazlitt's  Dodsley,  iv.  pp.  19-20. 


242  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

Promosand  The  dedication  prefixed  by  Whetstone  to  Promos  and  Cassandra, 
'  which  has  been  cited  by  Collier  and  Symonds  and  suggests  some  of 
Sidney's  subsequent  criticism,  is  founded  in  part  on  Edwardes' 
Prologue.  The  play  in  plot  and  conduct,  in  unity  of  purpose  and 
steady  march  to  an  issue,  is  much  the  best  hitherto  produced ;  and  is 
not  open  to  the  charges  of  irregularity,  impossibility,  and  inconsistent 
characterization  which  Whetstone  brings  against  contemporary 
writers.  His  sense  of  dignity,  which  disapproves  of  'making  a  Clowne 
companion  to  a  Kinge,'  does  not  forbid  the  union  of  tragic  with 
comic  matter  in  one  play  :  he  is  for  '  entermingling  all  these  actions, 
in  such  sorte,  as  the  grave  matter  may  instruct  and  the  pleasant 
delight :  for  without  this  chaunge,  the  attention  would  be  small,  and 
the  likinge  lesse.'  It  represents  a  considerable  advance  on  Edwardes' 
work  in  realism  and  naturalness ;  it  is  less  directly  didactic :  the 
diction  is  freer  and  stronger,  both  less  strained  and  less  slipshod ; 
above  all,  the  verse  is  not  the  excruciating  compromise  of  Damon 
and  Pithias,  but  written  with  regularity  almost  throughout.  The 
play  is  about  equally  divided  between  Alexandrine  and  decasyllabic 
verse,  the  latter  rhymed  for  the  most  part  alternately  but  very  often 
in  couplets,  while  in  rare  cases  a  single  rhyme  is  run  on  for  several 
lines.  Here  and  there,  in  scenes  between  lower  characters  like 
Rosko,  Gripax,  and  Rapax,  irregularity  is  designedly  permitted,  and 
the  old  indecision  between  dactylic  and  iambic  measure  momentarily 
felt.  A  hemistich  appears  now  and  again,  but  it  can  hardly  be  said 
that  prose  is  ever  consciously  adopted  save  in  the  royal  proclamation 
in  ii.  2.  of  the  Second  Part.  Lastly,  to  the  King  is  reserved  the  use 
of  blank  verse  in  several  speeches  of  some  length.  Poetry  is  still 
absent,  but  the  stuff  of  the  play  and  of  the  songs  is  on  the  whole 
superior  to  that  of  Damon  and  Pithias.  If  Whetstone  be  not  too 
much  in  advance  of  his  time  we  may  conclude  from  his  play  that 
regularity  and  design  have  now  won  the  victory  over  disorder  and 
haphazard,  but  that  competing  metrical  forms  are  still  freely  admitted 
side  by  side.  In  scene  Whetstone  takes  a  greater  freedom,  the 
stage  representing  in  turn  Promos'  judgement-hall,  the  streets  of  Julio, 
or  a  forest :  and  there  is  one  instance  of  imaginary  transfer  while  the 
characters  remain  on  the  stage,  in  Part  I.  iii.  3,  where  to  Cassandra, 
still  in  Promos'  house,  comes  the  boy  Ganio  to  summon  her  to  visit 
Andrugio  in  the  prison,  and  en  receiving  her  assent  turns  at  once 
and  says  '  Sir,  your  syster  Cassandra  is  here.'  Since  the  tale  may  be 
conceived  as  taking  place  in  comparatively  modem  days,  anachronism 


LYLY  NOT  MERELY   'THE   EUPHUIST '         243 

is  avoided ;  and,  while  in  unity  and  directness  it  is  the  equal  of 
Edwardes'  play,  from  which  it  borrows  the  scene  of  picking  a  pocket 
while  its  owner  is  being  shaved,  in  dramatic  interest  and  verisimili 
tude  and  in  the  play  of  character,  it  is  much  superior.  In  wit  and 
eloquence,  in  ease  and  naturalness,  in  grace  and  poetry,  and  in 
character,  it  is,  however,  as  far  below  Lyly's  work  as  it  stands  above 
what  came  before  it.  To  Lyly  himself  we  must  now  turn. 


II.    LYLY'S  DRAMATIC  WORK:  ITS  ORIGINALITY  AND 

IMPORTANCE. 

Lyly's  claims  as  a  dramatist  have  been  blurred  or  overshadowed, 
not  only  by  his  fame  as  the  author  of  Euphues,  but  by  the  actual 
presence  in  his  plays,  though  in  ever  diminishing  degree,  of  the 
euphuistic  style,  which  blending  all  their  variety  and  workmanship 
into  an  indistinct  haze  of  similarity  and  repetition  has  blinded  modern 
critics,  with  the  exception  of  Symonds  and  in  some  degree  Stein- 
hauser,  to  his  real  originality,  to  the  immense  superiority  of  his  work 
to  anything  that  preceded  it,  and  to  his  prime  importance  as  Shake 
speare's  chief  master  and  exemplar.  In  tragedy  Shakespeare  learned 
from  Marlowe,  with  whom  he  may  even  have  collaborated  in  some 
early  work;  but  it  is  a  distinction  that  Marlowe  must  probably  share 
with  Kyd.  In  comedy  Lyly  is  Shakespeare's  only  model :  the 
evidence  of  the  latter's  study  and  imitation  of  him  is  abundant,  and 
Lyly's  influence  is  of  a  far  more  permanent  nature  than  any  exercised 
on  the  great  poet  by  other  writers.  It  extends  beyond  the  boun 
daries  of  mechanical  style  to  the  more  important  matters  of  structure 
and  spirit :  and  it  is  further  traceable  in  Ben  Jonson's  method  of 
handling  history,  pastoral,  and  the  comedy  of  humours.  In  en 
deavouring  to  estimate  the  merits  and  defects  of  Lyly's  work,  the 
advance  he  effected,  and  the  details  of  the  influence  alluded  to,  it 
will  be  desirable  to  consider  it  briefly  under  the  heads  of — 

1.  His  invention  and  handling  of  his  materials. 

2.  His  recognition,  and  fusion,  of  different  dramatic  species. 

3.  His  dramatic  structure  and  technique. 

4.  His  characterization. 

5.  His  dialogue,  diction,  and  the  vehicles  he  employed. 

6.  Shakespeare's  debt  to  him. 

R  2 


244  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

i.  His  INVENTION  AND  HANDLING  OF  MATERIALS. 

It  is  small  blame  to  Lyly  that,  living  amid  a  society  dominated  by 
an  almost  tyrannical  classical  taste,  and  writing  his  plays  for  the 
amusement  of  a  learned  Queen  and  Court,  he  follows  the  trend  of 
fashion  and  personal  inclination,  and  makes  large  drafts  upon  the 
classics  for  the  materials  of  his  plays.  Seven  of  these  are  founded 
in  varying  degrees  on  classical  history  or  mythology;  while  the 
eighth,  Mother  Bombie,  a  transcript  from  contemporary  life,  is  still 
written  on  the  plan  and  in  the  spirit  of  Terentian  comedy.  But  his 
obligation  to  the  classics  has,  nevertheless,  been  absurdly  overstated ; 
while,  except  by  Steinhauser  and  myself1,  his  large  additions  have 
been  ignored,  and  no  account  taken  of  his  constructive  handling  of 
what  he  borrows.  A  distinct  advance  in  originality  and  -creative 
freedom  is  apparent  as  he  proceeds ;  and  the  matter  as  well  as  the 
manner  of  his  dialogue  is  almost  everywhere  entirely  his  own.  Some 
exception  in  regard  to  this  latter  point  must  be  acknowledged  in 
Campaspe,  his  earliest  effort,  and  that  in  which  he  is  most  dependent. 
He  drew  for  this  on  Plutarch's  Life  of  Alexander,  combining  there 
with  Pliny's  stories  about  Apelles  in  the  Thirty-fifth  Book  of  his 
Natural  History,  '  De  Pictura,'  and  those  about  Diogenes  in 
Diogenes  Laertius'  Vita  Philosophorum,  vi.  2.  But  the  comic  pages, 
and  all  the  dialogue  between  Alexander  and  Hephaestion,  Parmenio 
and  Clitus,  Apelles  and  Campaspe,  are  his  own  :  while  he  adds, 
with  some  disregard  of  chronology,  the  chamberlain  and  the  philo 
sophers  of  i.  3.  For  his  second  play  he  combined  Sappho's  epistle 
in  Ovid's  Heroides,  xv,  with  Aelian's  tale  of  Venus'  gift  of  beauty  to 
Phao  (Var.  Hist.  xii.  18);  adding  to  this  combination  the  Court  of 
Syracuse,  represented  by  Pandion,  Trachinus,  Mileta  and  the  rest 
of  Sapho's  ladies,  and  the  Pages,  the  crone  Sybilla,  and  the  machinery 
of  Venus,  Vulcan,  and  Cupid,  with  the  smith  Calypho.  The  additions 
here  quite  outweigh  what  is  borrowed ;  while  the  whole  subject, 
subordinated  to  the  purposes  of  Court  allegory,  is  treated  with 
an  inventive  freedom  that  recreates  the  story.  Phao  is  made  to 
reciprocate  Sapho's  passion,  and  at  the  close  is  left  disconsolate ; 
while  Sapho,  a  princess  rather  than  a  poetess,  is  left  heart-whole  and 

1  John  Lyly  ah  Dramatiker :  Inaugural-Dissertation  .  .  .  von  Karl  Stein 
hauser.  Halle,  1884.  'John  Lyly:  Novelist  and  Dramatist,'  Quarterly  Review, 
Jan.  1896.  I  should  add  that  my  Quarterly  article  was  written  long  before  I  knew 
of  the  existence  of  Herr  Steinhauser' s  thoughtful  essay,  from  which  I  have  been 
glad  to  accept  some  suggestions  in  the  present  edition. 


HIS   DEBT   FOR  PLOTS   MUCH   EXAGGERATED  245 

victorious  over  Venus,  whose  rivalry  with  her  has  set  the  action  in 
motion.     Gallalhea  is  indebted  to  Ovid's  Metamorphoses  (bk.  ix. 
fab.  x)  for  the  bare  suggestion  of  a  passion  between  two  girls,  one  of 
whom  is  eventually  changed  into  a  boy ;  while  the  story  of  a  virgin- 
tribute  to  a  sea-monster  has  two  or  three  classical  representatives. 
But,  as  Steinhauser  remarks,  neither  myth  is  very  prominent :  they 
supply  some  scaffolding,  but  not  all  of  that.     Our  interest  is  chiefly 
invoked  for  the  pretty  loves  of  the  two  girls,  who  are  here  both 
disguised  as  boys :  the  two  myths  are  linked  by  making  the  disguise 
a  means  of  evading  the  tribute  :  the  tribute-myth  is  cleverly  associated 
with  the  bore  on  the  Humber,  is  amplified  by  the  addition  of  the 
farmers  Melebeus  and  Tyterus,  of  Haebe,  Ericthinis  and  the  Augur, 
and  by  the  personal  intervention  of  Neptune,  and  is  further  combined 
with  a  subject  of  equal  importance  invented  by  Lyly,  the  attack 
namely  of  Cupid  on  Diana's  nymphs  and  the  goddess's  vengeance  on 
the  culprit,  and  with  the  comic  humours  of  the  Mariner,  Alchemist, 
Astrologer,  and   the   boys.     Endimion    owes   nothing  to  Lucian's 
Dialogue  of  Venus  and  the  Moon  beyond  the  bare  suggestion  of 
Selene's   kiss   given   to   the    sleeping    shepherd.      This   long   and 
elaborate  story  of  love  and  enchantment  is  entirely  of  Lyly's  invention, 
a  clever  allegorical  adaptation  of  Court-intrigue  and  political  events. 
In  Midas  he  follows  Ovid  (Met.  xi.  85-193)  closely  enough  ;  but  here 
again  he  adds  many  characters,  the  three  councillors,  the  King's 
daughter  and  her  ladies,  the  pages,  the  barber,  and  the  huntsman, 
besides  adapting  the  character  of  Midas  to  the  purposes  of  political 
satire.     For  Mother  Bombie  he   takes  merely  the   old   motive  of 
Latin  comedy,  the  stealing  of  a  marriage  by  young  folk  against  their 
parents'  wishes  with  the  aid  of  quick-witted  rascally  servants ;   with 
which  he  interweaves  a  parallel  element  of  his  own,  the  old  men's 
attempt  to  palm  off  their  half-witted  children  and  the  discovery  of 
a  child-changing  at  the  close,  adding  the  somewhat  otiose  figure 
of  the  wise  woman.     The  Woman  in  the  Moone  is  all  his  own,  except 
for  the  suggestion  of  Pandora  in  Hesiod  as  endowed  with  the  attributes 
of  various  gods,  the  translation  of  these  gods  into  planets  in  reference 
to  a  character  of  the  same  name  in  one  of  Fenton's  Tragicall  Dis 
courses,  and  the  competition  of  the  planets  for  influence  in  Greene's 
Planetomachia,  and  in  The  Rare  Triumphs  of  Love  and  Fortune.    The 
whole  relations  of  Pandora  with  the  Utopian  shepherds  and  with 
Gunophilus,  i.  e.  the  whole  structure  of  the  play,  as  well  as  the 
denouement,  is   Lyly's;    and  the  treatment  seems  to  me  especially 


246  LYLY  AS  A   PLAYWRIGHT 

dramatic.  In  Loves  Metamorphosis,  again,  while  following  Ovid 
(Met.  viii.  738-878)  very  closely,  he  adds  another  element  in  the 
loves  of  the  foresters  and  nymphs,  with  the  transformation  and  re 
storation  of  the  latter,  linking  this  new  thread  to  the  other  by  the 
presence  of  Cupid  and  his  shrine,  and  adding  even  to  the  first  the 
adventure  of  Petulius  and  Protea  with  the  Siren. 

These  combinations,  changes,  and  additions  abundantly  prove  that 
Lyly  is  no  mere  slavish  reproducer,  but  a  creative  artist,  whose  work 
is  constantly  superintended  by  the  critical  faculty  with  an  eye  to  the 
total  effect.  His  choice  of  subjects  reveals  a  true  dramatic  sense : 
they  are  always  intrinsically  beautiful,  interesting,  and  dramatic,  even 
though  a  failure  to  grasp  the  principles  underlying  dramatic  con 
struction,  or  at  least  to  apply  them,  leads  him  sometimes  into  error, 
as  where  the  duality  of  incident  in  Midas  impairs  the  unity  of  the 
piece,  or  where  the  comic  matter,  e.  g.  Diogenes  in  Campaspe^  and 
the  boys  in  Gallathea,  stands  out  of  relation  to  the  main  action.  It 
was  an  artist's  eye  that  selected  from  the  career  of  Alexander  the 
brief  incident  of  his  passion  for  Campaspe  \  with  its  opportunities  of 
introducing  painting  and  giving  philosophical  tincture.  It  was  a 
poet's  instinct  that  led  him  to  the  theme  of  Sappho.  The  stories 
of  Erisichthon  and  Protea,  and  of  Midas'  misfortunes  are  in  them 
selves  extremely  attractive ;  and  the  play  of  Endimion  constantly 
hovers  on  the  borders  of  a  romantic  beauty  which  it  never  quite 
attains.  Only  once,  perhaps,  does  Lyly  offend  in  taste,  when  he 
chooses  as  a  subject  of  farce  the  half-witted  incoherence  of  poor 
Accius  and  Silena.  With  this  exception  he  is  most  successful 
where  he  is  most  independent,  as  in  Endimion,  MotJier  Bombie,  The 
Woman  in  the  Moone,  and  in  the  relations  between  Cupid,  Diana,  and 
her  nymphs  in  Gallathea-.  a  sufficient  indication  of  his  real  origin 
ality.  He  is  not  free  indeed  from  the  charge  of  repetition,  both  in 
the  general  grouping  of  his  pieces,  and  in  the  recurrence  in  later 
plays  of  scenes  or  situations  employed  before,  without  the  touch  of 
variety  that  Shakespeare  almost  always  contrives  to  impart.  The 
sameness,  which  must  be  acknowledged,  is  mainly  a  matter  of  dialogue, 
e.  g.  the  talk  between  Sapho's  and  Sophronia's  ladies,  between  minor 
courtiers,  between  Diana's  and  Ceres'  nymphs  (especially  Cupid  to  the 
former,  pp.  435,  458—60,  and  to  Ceres,  Loves  Met.  ii.  2,  iv.  i,  v.  i,  and 
cf.  Venus'  directions  to  Cupid  in  Sapho,  v.  i).  Talk  among  courtiers 

1  '  We  calling  Alexander  from  his  graue,  seeke  onely  who  was  his  loue.'— 
Prologue  at  Court. 


POPULAR   ELEMENTS  247 

and  idle  folk  can  hardly  avoid  harping  on  the  subject  of  love,  though 
Lyly  strives  to  avert  monotony  by  the  relation  of  dreams,  e.  g.  Sapho, 
iv.  3  :  and  intercourse  between  pages  and  servants  turns  naturally 
enough  on  such  matters  as  eating  and  drinking,  the  want  of  cash,  and 
the  prospects  of  punishment  for  their  escapades,  though  here  too  he 
found  an  admirable  and  popular  source  of  variety  in  the  introduction 
of  different  trades — a  smith,  a  sailor,  a  prostitute,  watchmen,  a  bar 
ber,  a  huntsman,  a  horse-dealer,  a  fortune-teller.  Beside  these 
distinctly  popular  elements  from  modern  life  introduced  into  the 
comic  portions  everywhere,  he  appeals  for  other  means  of  variety,  in 
such  plays  as  rest  on  a  mythological  or  fanciful  basis,  (i)  to  folklore, 
in  the  Fairies  of  Gallathea  and  Endimion,  the  fate  assigned  to  Stesias 
and  Gunophilus,  and  the  Siren  assimilated  to  the  mermaid  of  Teu 
tonic  superstition  in  Loves  Metamorphosis,  (2)  to  mediaeval  astrology 
in  Gallathea  and  The  Woman,  (3)  to  alchemy  in  Gallathea,  and 
(4)  to  powers  of  magic  in  Endimion,  exercised  in  the  slumbrous 
charm  laid  upon  the  hero,  in  the  marvellous  oracular  fountain,  and  in 
the  transformation  and  restoration  of  Bagoa.  And  there  is  scarce 
a  play,  where  some  other  striking  or  beautiful  element  is  not  intro 
duced,  e.  g.  Diogenes  and  his  tub,  the  aged  Sybilla  and  her  cave, 
Cupid  captive,  Haebe  bound  for  sacrifice,  Sir  Tophas  the  foolish 
braggart,  Geron  in  exile,  the  whole  plan  of  The  Woman  in  the  Moone, 
the  tree-nymph  slaughtered  by  Erisichthon,  the  description  of 
Famine,  and  Protea's  disguise. 

If  Lyly  fails,  it  is  not  in  inventive  plan  or  original  conception,  but 
in  the  detail,  in  the  constant  imaginative  power  which  can  project 
itself  continuously  onto  the  upthrow  of  the  working  mind  and  vivify 
its  successive  suggestions  by  ever  fresh  jets  and  sallies  of  the  vital 
luminous  force.  It  is  owing  to  this  imaginative  defect  in  the  detail, 
joined  with  the  marked  and  monotonous  character  of  the  style,  that 
much  of  his  work  which  would  have  lived  under  the  touch  of  a  more 
inspired  hand,  bears  the  stamp  of  artificiality  and  mechanical  dullness. 
It  fails  in  the  passing  and  superficial  impression ;  and  failure  in  this 
respect  means,  with  the  vast  majority  of  readers,  the  negation  of  all 
those  constructive  or  conceptive  merits  that  may  lie  beneath. 

2.  His  RECOGNITION,  EMPLOYMENT,  AND  FUSION  OF  DIFFERENT 
DRAMATIC  SPECIES. 

Among  the  chief  points  in  which  Lyly's  plays  stand  out  so  superior 
to  their  rude  predecessors  and  are  of  such  moment  to  what  follows. 


248  LYLY  AS  A  PLAYWRIGHT 

is  their  pervading  sense  of  form  and  the  evidence  they  afford  of  clear 
thought  and  presiding  intelligence.  To  the  artist  in  them,  quite  as 
much  as  to  the  finical  daintiness  of  their  style,  they  owe  their  somewhat 
metallic  brilliance.  Doubtless  Lyly  enjoyed  exceptional  oppor 
tunities.  Educated  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  passing  from  the 
universities  to  the  Court,  acting  as  private  secretary  to  the  literary 
Earl  of  Oxford,  and  secured  by  this  position  on  the  one  hand  from 
the  waste  of  his  talents  on  drudgery,  and  by  his  own  literary  ambition 
on  the  other  from  their  dissipation  in  frivolity,  he,  if  any,  must  have 
lain  open  to  intellectual  influences  and  kept  touch  with  the  best 
criticism  current.  Through  him  at  any  rate,  more  than  any  other, 
there  passes  into  the  romantic  drama  of  England  that  infusion  of 
regularity  and  artistic  form  which  it  gleaned  from  its  contact  with  the 
rival  pseudo-classic  school.  While  his  dramatic  contemporaries  were 
driven  by  their  necessities  to  cater  for  the  popular  stage,  where  form 
was  always  in  danger  of  being  swamped  by  licence,  Lyly  writing  rather 
for  the  wits  and  scholars,  for  a  learned  queen  and  her  blue-stockinged 
ladies,  admits  in  a  considerable  degree  the  regulating  check  and 
control  of  classical  taste.  The  Blackfriars  Prologue  to  Sapho  and 
Phao  acknowledges  an  effort  to  refine  the  stage,  and  deprecates  any 
discontent  on  the  part  of  his  alternative,  popular,  audience  '  because 
you  cannot  reape  your  wonted  mirthes.'  From  allusions  here  and 
at  the  beginning  of  Campaspe  it  is  evident  that  he  has  been  studying 
the  Ars  Poetica  of  Horace:  yet  he  would  not  endorse  that  rigid 
severance  of  tragedy  and  comedy  which  Sidney  was  about  this  time 
proclaiming  as  correct.  In  the  Prologue  to  Midas,  while  asserting 
the  distinction  of  kinds,  he  claims  the  right  to  mingle  them — *  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.  .  .  .  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  Gallimaufrey.  If  wee  now  present 
a  mingle-mangle,  our  fault  is  to  be  excused,  because  the  whole 
worlde  is  become  an  Hodge-podge.'  Here  at  any  rate  is  a  frank 
adoption  of  the  principle  of  Edwardes  and  Whetstone,  that  tragic 
and  comic  matter  may  be  mingled,  at  any  rate  in  comedy.  The 
apparent  reluctance  of  the  admission  is  somewhat  strange,  because 
in  effect  this  has  always  been  his  working  principle.  In  the  Black- 
friars  Prologue  to  his  earliest  play  he  says  '  We  haue  mixed  mirth 


THE   PLAYS   CLASSIFIED  249 

with  counsell,  and  discipline  with  delight,  thinking  it  not  amisse  in 
the  same  garden  to  sowe  pot-hearbes,  that  we  set  flowers ' ;  and  every 
one  of  his  plays  contains  a  distinctly  farcical  element,  except  that  last 
published,  Loves  Metamorphosis,  from  which  I  believe  such  element, 
there  at  first,  has  been  expunged.  The  apology  of  the  Midas 
prologue  probably  refers,  however,  to  the  mingling  of  courtly  with 
Arcadian  scenes  :  and  at  any  rate  in  that  play  first  the  farcical  portions 
appear  properly  connected  with  the  main  action.  Their  better 
fusion  in  this  and  subsequent  plays  is  perhaps  as  much  attributable 
to  change  of  principle  as  to  advance  in  skill  or  knowledge. 

If  we  attempt  a  classification  of  his  eight  undoubted  plays l  we  find  Classifica- 
that  one  of  them,  Campaspe,  is  a  pure  history  without  admixture  of  ton° 
mythological  or  allegorical  elements,  a  play,  that  is,  of  real  life, 
an  imaginative  reconstruction  of  a  real  past :  one  other,  Mother 
J3ombie,  is  a  realistic  comedy  of  modern  life  on  a  Terentian  model, 
equally  devoid  of  mythological  or  allegorical  savour :  three  others, 
Sapho  and  Phao,  Endimion,  and  Midas,  are  comedies  of  Court- 
life  under  classical  names,  giving  an  allegorical  representation 
of  current  political  events,  but  with  marked  differences  in  the 
relation  of  the  allegory  to  the  plot  and  in  the  degree  in  which 
recourse  is  had  to  mythological  machinery :  while  the  remaining 
three,  Gallathea,  Loves  Metamorphosis,  and  The  Woman  in  the 
Moone,  are  pastoral  comedies,  with  a  purely  mythological  machinery, 
and  only  such  limited  share  of  allegory  as  may  serve  to  convey 
a  compliment  to  Elizabeth  or  assist  the  mythological  framework — 
comedies,  in  fact,  approximating  to  the  masque,  whose  fully  de 
veloped  later  form  is  in  part  a  derivative  from  these  very  plays.  In 
all  of  them  save  Loves  Metamorphosis  there  is  included  an  element  of 
farce;  while  in  four  of  them,  Gallathea,  Endimion,  Midas  t  and 
Loves  Metamorphosis,  the  action  approaches  at  times  the  gravity  of 
tragic  matter. 

But,  the  reader  may  ask,  can  a  writer  who  employed  and  mingled  Hisftision 
so  many  styles — farce,  comedy,  history,  tragedy,  allegory,  masque,   °{^^e-nt 
pastoral — really  claim  to  have  contributed   to   and  advanced   the  deliberate, 
drama  proper?     With  so  large  an  admixture  of  allegory,  pastoral,   €^n^!le^ 
and  mythology,  especially,  should  he  not  rather  be  classed  with  the  a  careless 
chaotic  earlier  work  which  I  have  lumped  together  under  the  wide  JumblinS* 

1  His  possible  share  in  a  ninth,  The  Maydes  Metamorphosis,  is  so  slight,  and  so 
little  susceptible  of  positive  proof,  that  it  may  quite  safely  be  ignored  in  estimating 
his  dramatic  power. 


250  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

title  of  Moralities  ?  Undoubtedly  Lyly  represents  a  transition  stage, 
wherein  the  boundaries  of  dramatic  species  are  less  rigidly  fixed  than 
they  became  later.  But  examination  proves  not  only  that  he,  unlike 
his  predecessors  except  perhaps  Whetstone,  had  a  clear  notion  of 
these  distinctions,  but  that  in  reality  his  practice  does  not  confound 
them.  The  question  of  propriety  in  art  must,  largely,  be  one  of  the 
presence  or  absence  of  clear  perception  and  intention  in  the  artist ; 
and  Lyly  seems  always  to  have  known  what  he  was  doing.  Campaspe 
and  Mother  Bombie  are  evidence  that  he  knew  allegorical,  mytho 
logical,  and  Arcadian  elements  to  have  no  proper  business  in  a  play 
of  real  life :  but  these  artificialities  may  nevertheless  be  employed, 
subordinate  to  rule  and  in  a  sphere  of  their  own.  The  abstrac 
tions  or  deities,  which  would  violate  our  sense  of  propriety  in 
realistic  work,  may  fitly  find  a  place  in  some  romantic  land  of  our 
imagination.  You  will  not  find  in  Lyly  Conscience,  Avarice,  or 
Impudence,  striding  onto  the  stage  to  make  respectable  living  men 
and  women  uncomfortable :  you  will  find  a  remorseful  king  or 
beldame,  a  grasping  farmer  or  courtier,  a  cheeky  page  or  grisette. 
Beyond  once  in  The  Woman  in  the  Moone,  where  Nature,  Concord, 
and  Discord  are  employed  in  the  framework  of  the  piece,  Lyly  uses 
no  abstractions  at  all.  His  allegory  is  of  another  kind,  of  which  more 
anon.  So,  too,  his  deities  do  not  appear  casually  and  unexpectedly  : 
their  existence  and  interest  is,  in  every  case,  postulated  at  the  outset ; 
and  for  the  most  part  mortals  address  them  with  respect,  and  are 
treated  by  them  as  inferiors.  In  all  Lyly's  work  there  is  no  such 
marked  inconsistency  as  the  appearance  of  Hymen  at  the  end  of  As 
You  Like  It,  or  the  scroll  left  by  supernatural  agency  in  the  bosom 
of  the  sleeping  Posthumus  in  Cymbeline1— dramas  too  obviously 
realistic  to  allow  these  liberties  to  pass  as  part  and  parcel  of  an  idyllic 
pastoral  or  a  legendary  period.  Again,  the  pastoral  talk  of  Lyly's 
nymphs,  shepherds,  and  foresters  is  fairly  distinguished  from  that  of 
his  courtiers,  though  of  course  they  have  in  common  the  subject 
of  love.  In  Midas,  the  only  play  in  which  both  courtiers  and 
shepherds  appear,  the  simplicity  of  the  latter  is  carefully  guarded : 
and  in  The  Woman  the  pastoral  atmosphere  is  particularly  well- 
maintained.  The  introduction  of  serious  or  tragic  matter  into 
comedy  has  already  been  sanctioned  by  the  theory  and  practice  of 
his  best  predecessors,  and  needs  no  defence.  With  the  converse 
and  much  more  hazardous  introduction  of  comic  matter  into  tragedy 
1  This  incident  is,  perhaps,  not  Shakespeare's, 


DISTINGUISHES   FARCE   AND   COMEDY          251 

Lyly's  comedy  has  nothing  to  do.  Lastly,  in  introducing  farcical 
elements  he  does  not  lose  the  sense  of  the  distinction,  which  may  be 
said  indeed  to  originate  with  him,  between  the  farcical  and  the  comic 
spirit.  His  nymphs,  his  ladies,  and  his  courtiers  talk  in  a  refined, 
ideal  strain,  witty  and  euphuistic ;  and  the  subjects  of  which  they 
talk  are  not  vulgar.  His  pages  and  servants  employ  the  blunter 
style  of  romp  and  chaff  and  farce :  there  is  more  punning  and  less 
wit,  occasional  obscenity,  and  hardly  a  trace  of  euphuism '.  They 
associate  with  persons  of  mechanical  or  menial  occupation,  and  the 
distinction  of  styles  is  maintained  by  their  general  isolation  from  the 
ideal  characters.  In  this  production  of  a  more  refined  style  of 
comedy  than  had  yet  been  seen  in  England,  a  style  necessarily 
dependent  on  personal  knowledge  of  and  power  to  represent  well-bred 
women,  Lyly  anticipates  Sidney's  distinction  between  Delight  and 
Laughter,  and  exempts  himself  from  Sidney's  rebuke 2. 

Having  marked  his  sense  of  distinction  between  these  several  styles, 
I  will  now  devote  a  few  words  to  his  work  in  each,  and  especially 
in  Allegory ;  following  the  order  that  I  find  most  convenient. 

In  Campaspe  (1580)  Lyly  may  claim  to  have  produced  the  first  (a}  Hi  story. 
English  historical  play.     Kynge  Johan,   Camfyses,  and  Appius  and 

1  Contrast  Dromio's  description  of  the  horse  in  M.  Bombie,  iv.  2,  vol.  iii.  p.  214, 
or  Lucio  and  Halfpenny's  dreams  in  iii.  4,  with  the  banter  of  Sophronia's  ladies 
{Midas,  iii.  3),  the  dreams  of  Sapho's,  iv.  3,  or  the  talk  of  the  nymphs  in 
Gall.  iii.  I  or  Loves  Metamorphosis. 

3  '  So  falleth  it  out,  that  hauing  indeed  no  right  Comedy,  in  that  comicall  part 
of  our  Tragedy,  we  haue  nothing  but  scurrility,  vnwoorthy  of  any  chast  eares : 
or  some  extreame  shew  of  doltishnes,  indeed  fit  to  lift  vp  a  loude  laughter,  and 
nothing  els :  where  the  whole  tract  of  a  Comedy,  shoulde  be  full  of  delight,  as 
the  Tragedy  shoulde  be  still  maintained,  in  a  well  raised  admiration.  But  our 
Comedians,  thinke  there  is  no  delight  without  laughter,  which  is  very  wrong,  for 
though  laughter  may  come  with  delight,  yet  commeth  it  not  of  delight :  as  though 
delight  should  be  the  cause  of  laughter,  but  well  may  one  thing  breed  both 
together:  nay,  rather  in  themselues,  they  haue  as  it  were,  a  kind  of  contrarietie : 
for  delight  we  scarcely  doe,  but  in  things  that  haue  a  conueniencie  to  our  selues, 
or  to  the  generall  nature :  laughter,  almost  euer  commeth,  of  things  most  dis- 
proportioned  to  our  selues,  and  nature.  Delight  hath  a  ioy  in  it,  either  permanent,  " 
of  present.  Laughter,  hath  onely  a  scornful  tickling. 

For  example,  we  are  rauished  with  delight  to  see  a  faire  woman,  and  yet  are 
far  from  being  moued  to  laughter.  We  laugh  at  deformed  creatures,  wherein 
certainely  we  cannot  delight.  We  delight  in  good  chaunces,  we  laugh  at  mis- 
chaunces ;  we  delight  to  heare  the  happines  of  our  friends,  or  Country ;  at  which 
he  were  worthy  to  be  laughed  at,  that  would  laugh  ;  wee  shall  contrarily  laugh 
sometimes,  to  finde  a  matter  quite  mistaken,  and  goe  downe  the  hill  agaynst  the 
byas,  in  the  mouth  of  some  such  men,  as  for  the  respect  of  them,  one  shalbe 
hartely  sorry,  yet  he  cannot  chuse  but  laugh;  and  so  is  rather  pained,  then 
delighted  with  laughter.  Yet  deny  I  not,  but  that  they  may  goe  well  together  .  .  . 
But  I  speake  to  this  purpose,  that  all  the  end  of  the  comicall  part,  bee  not  vpon 
such  scornefull  matters,  as  stirreth  laughter  onely :  but  mixt  with  it,  that  delightful 
teaching  which  is  the  end  of  Poesie.'  Apologiefor  Poetrie,  pp.  65-6,  ed.  Arber. 


252  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

Virginia^  which  preceded  it,  the  first  by  some  thirty,  the  other  two 
by  some  twenty  years,  are  Moral-Plays  on  historical  subjects ;  and 
its  only  real  competitor  is  Edwardes'  Damon  and  Pithias,  which  has 
the  defect  of  obtruding  the  moral  aim  and,  as  we  saw,  of  introducing 
mythological  Muses  in  a  duet  with  one  of  the  characters.  Campaspe 
set  Shakespeare  the  example  of  drawing  on  North's  Plutarch  for 
historical  matter,  and  Ben  Jonson  the  example  of  making  verbal 
transcripts  from  the  classics  \  though  Catiline  and  Sejanus  carry  the 
method  far  beyond  Lyly's  initiative.  Campaspe  can  in  no  sense  be 
called,  like  Jonson's  two  plays,  a  compilation ;  it  is  a  true  imaginative 
treatment  of  history  for  the  stage,  and  shows  admirable  discretion  in 
selecting  an  event  of  minor  importance,  the  conqueror's  passion  for 
his  Theban  captive,  which  does  not  tie  the  dramatist  down  by  too 
great  fullness  of  detail,  but  permits  to  him  an  imaginary  presentation 
of  famous  characters,  yet  one  faithful  to  their  well-known  lines.  Variety 
is  purchased  at  the  cost  of  some  minor  anachronisms,  such  as  bringing 
Diogenes  and  Lais  from  Corinth  to  Athens,  and  making  Plato,  who 
died  in  347  B.  c.,  contemporary  with  Alexander's  capture  of  Thebes 
in  335.  The  play's  defect  is  one  of  passion.  The  dramatic  oppor 
tunity  for  conflict  in  Alexander's  breast  between  jealousy  and  magna 
nimity  is  quite  missed,  the  same  situation  being  much  better  treated 
by  Robert  Greene  in  Bacon  and  Bungay,  where  Prince  Edward 
surrenders  fair  Margaret  of  Fressingfield  to  Earl  Lacy.  The  earlier 
struggle,  however,  between  Alexander's  passion  and  the  imperial  duty 
and  dignity  which  require  him  to  stifle  it,  is  better  given ;  and  the 
studio-scenes  are  light  and  happy,  as  those  with  Diogenes  are  tren 
chant  and  amusing.  As  a  first  dramatic  essay  Campaspe  in  its 
imaginative  handling  might  do  credit  to  any  dramatist :  I  should 
pronounce  it  superior  in  skill  and  in  some  points  of  naturalness  to 
Shakespeare's  first  historical  effort,  the  Second  Part  of  Henry  VI, 
even  though  I  have  seen  the  latter  upon  the  stage.  It  is  further 
remarkable  as  the  earliest  original  prose-play  in  England,  for  Gas- 
coigne's  prose  Supposes,  acted  at  Gray's  Inn  in  1566,  was  almost 
entirely  a  translation  from  Italian  sources. 

(/;)  Comedy       In  Comedy  Lyly's  chief  merit  is  that  above-noted,  of  introducing 

ami  Farce.    the  refinecj  ideal-comic  style.     But  his  Mother  Bombie  (1590),  in 

which  the   ideal-comic  does  not  appear,   is,  if  not  the  first   pure 

1  E.g.  Alexander's  talk  with  the  philosophers  is  taken  in  part  verbatim  from 
Plutarch,  and  most  of  Diogenes'  repartees  are  lifted  from  the  Life  of  him  in  his 
namesake,  Diogenes  Laertius'  Vita  Philosophorum,  lib.  vi.  c.  2. 


SHAKESPEARE  AND   LYLY'S   COMIC  SCENES     253 

farce  in  England,  at  least  the  first  of  well-constructed  plot  and 
literary  form.  Andrew  Merygreke  in  Roister  Doister  is  a  little  too 
like  the  Vice  of  the  Moralities ;  Damon  and  Pithias  with  its  marked 
didacticism  savours  of  the  same  Moral-Play  connexion;  while 
Gammer  Gurton  is  rude  and  gross.  Peele's  Old  Wives  Tale 
(c.  1590),  however,  and  some  of  Greene's  work,  may  have  preceded 
Mother  Bombie.  In  spite  of  its  Latin  model  it  makes,  with  Prisius' 
fulling-mill,  the  tavern,  the  wise-woman,  the  hackneyman,  and  the 
matutinal  musicians,  an  excellent  representation  of  middle-class  life 
in  an  English  country-town.  The  large  number  of  characters — three 
young  couples,  four  scheming  old  men,  two  old  women,  four  rascally 
servants,  besides  six  subordinate  personages — makes  the  intrigue 
a  little  intricate ;  but  it  is  an  undeniably  clever  piece  of  work,  which 
avoids  the  mistake  of  Ben  Jonson,  Dekker,  and  Middleton,  of 
subordinating  plot  to  the  exhibition  either  of  humours  or  manners. 

Lyly's  farcical  scenes  are  undoubtedly  the  model  for  the  similar 
scenes  in  Shakespeare's  early  work  between  Moth,  Armado  and 
Costard,  the  two  Dromios,  Launce  and  Speed,  Peter  and  the  Nurse, 
Launcelot  and  Old  Gobbo,  and  for  the  wit-contests  between  folk 
of  higher  rank,  Boyet  and  the  French  ladies,  the  Two  Gentlemen, 
Romeo  and  Mercutio ;  while  he  is  indebted  also  to  Lyly's  example 
of  graceful  and  witty  interchange  between  ladies  and  courtiers, 
nymphs  and  foresters,  for  many  a  gentle  and  pretty  scene  between 
Julia  and  Lucetta,  Portia  and  Nerissa,  Rosalind  and  Celia,  Hero 
and  Ursula,  and  for  the  witty  war  between  Benedick  and  Beatrice,  and 
others.  Shrews  and  scoffers  like  Katharine,  Beatrice,  and  Rosalind, 
have  obvious  originals  in  Mileta,  Suavia,  Niobe,  and  Nisa.  There 
is  no  need  to  institute  a  close  comparison  :  Shakespeare's  natural 
touch  and  imaginative  instinct  carry  him  well  beyond  the  best  Lyly 
ever  attained.  But  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that,  beneath  the 
sameness  of  his  style,  Lyly  has  no  small  share  of  wit  and  grace, 
of  verve  and  variety ;  that  in  these  qualities  he  is  absolutely  without 
a  predecessor ;  and  that  Shakespeare  followed  him. 

For  the  introduction  of  mythological  and  Arcadian  elements  Lyly  (0  Masque 
was  not  without  a  precedent.     In  Thersites,  which  dates  by  internal  apastoral 
evidence  about  1537,  is  introduced  'Mulciber,  whom  the  poets  doth 
call  the  god  of  fire,  Smith  unto  Jupiter,'  with  a  blacksmith's  shop 
in  which  he  forges  weapons  for  the  hero  :  while  in  Cambyses,  c.  1561, 
when  the  king  is  to  be  smitten  with  love  for  his  kinswoman,  the 
stage-direction  runs  '  Enter  Venus  leading  out  her  son  Cupid  blind  : 


254  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

he  must  have  a  bow  and  two  shafts,  one  headed  with  gold  and  the 
other  headed  with  lead,'  and  Venus  bids  him  shoot  the  king  with 
the  gold-headed  arrow,  promising,  since  he  is  blind,  to  give  the 
signal ;  which  done,  they  disappear.  Both  these  instances  may  have 
been  in  Lyly's  recollection  when  he  wrote  in  Sapho  the  scenes  of  the 
forging  of  the  arrows  by  Vulcan,  and  Venus'  directions  to  Cupid. 
The  little  god  had  also  spoken  two  soliloquies  or  prologues  in 
Tancred  and  Gismunda,  1568.  Pallas  and  Hercules  figured  in 
a  masque  at  Whitehall  in  I5721:  and  in  Sidney's  Lady  of  May  at 
Wanstead  in  1578  we  had  shepherds  and  rustics.  But  certainly 
none  before  Lyly  had  given  them  dramatic  life.  Venus  in  Sapho, 
Cupid  in  Gallathea,  and  Jupiter  in  The  Woman  are  particularly  lively 
and  well  conceived;  while  the  rustics  of  Gallathea  are  admirably 
realistic,  and  the  shepherds  of  Midas  and  The  Woman  consistently 
ideal.  The  relations  between  Cupid,  Diana,  and  her  Nymphs  in 
Gallathea  form  perhaps  the  best  and  most  charming  instance  of  the 
ease  and  grace  with  which  Lyly  moved  upon  mythological  ground : 
the  punishment  of  Cupid  is  like  a  picture  by  Priou.  For  the 
introduction  of  a  fairy-ballet  in  this  play  and  Endimion — an  appeal 
to  folklore  with  which  we  should  range  the  fates  of  Stesias  and 
Gunophilus  at  the  end  of  The  Woman,  and  the  siren-mermaid  of 
Loves  Metamorphosis — I  do  not  know  that  he  had  any  example: 
while,  besides  the  Alchemist  and  Astrologer  of  Gallathea  we  have 
magic  powers  introduced  in  Endimion  in  the  slumbrous  spell  laid 
upon  the  hero,  the  oracular  fountain  copied  byPeele,the  transformation 
and  restoration  of  Bagoa2.  These  mediaeval  elements  were  turned  to 
account  a  little  later  by  Greene  in  Bacon  and  Bungay ;  while  Lyly's 
fairies  were  copied  in  Greene's  fames  IV,  by  Shakespeare  in 
A  Midsummer  Nighfs  Dream  and  The  Merry  Wives,  and  by  others. 
Gallathea  and  Loves  Metamorphosis  lent  something  in  structure  and 
spirit  to  As  You  Like  It,  where  we  have  two  disguised  girls  and  three 
Arcadian  couples ;  while  The  Woman  as  well  as  Endimion  supplied 
some  hints  again  for  the  Dream  (see  below,  p.  297).  Endimion  2^. 
Lyly's  courtly  talk  in  general  helped  much  for  Ben  Jonson's  allegorical 
Cynthia's  Revels  and  for  his  masques ;  while  finally  Fletcher's  Faithful 
Shepherdess  bears  marked  structural  affinities  to  Lyly's  work 3. 

(d]  A  lie-          Lyly's  use   of  Allegory  must  claim  somewhat  fuller   notice,  his 
gory. 

1  English  Masques,  by  H.  A.  Evans,  p.  xxiii. 

2  I  have  already  mentioned  these  last  few  points,  p.  247,  under  (  Materials.' 

3  See,  further,  the  note  on  Italian  influence,  pp.  473  sqq. 


HOW  FAR   HE   RETAINS   ALLEGORY  255 

innovations  herein  forming  so  good  an  example  of  his  dramatic 
insight.  He  seems  to  have  perceived  that  Allegory  had  no  proper 
place  upon  the  stage  at  all;  but,  not  venturing  entirely  to  reject 
a  tradition  which  still  had  a  strong  hold  on  popular  taste,  he  set 
about  converting  it  to  realistic  uses.  He  rejected  almost  entirely 
the  method  of  pure  allegorical  abstractions  which  marked  the  Moral- 
Plays,  Nature,  Concord,  and  Discord  in  the  framework  of  The 
Woman  forming,  as  we  saw,  the  sole  instances  of  such  in  his  work l : 
and  he  infused  concreteness  into  the  allegory  in  three  ways,  two  or 
even  all  three  being  sometimes  combined  in  the  same  character. 

He  substitutes,  for  abstractions,  recognized  mythological  personages  (i)  Mytho- 
to  represent  the  qualities  required :  thus,  for  Wantonness,  Jae  gives 
us  Venus ;  for  Love,  Cupid ;  for  Chastity  or  Virginity,  Diana ;  for 
Cruelty  or  Devastation,  Neptune;  for  Bounty  or  Pity,  Ceres;  for  Poetry 
and  Music,  Apollo;  for  Rudeness,  Pan;  and,  in  The  Woman,  for 
Melancholy,  Pride  of  Place,  Strife,  Chicanery,  Fickleness,  and 
Mirth,  we  have  Saturn,  Jupiter,  Mars,  Mercury,  Luna,  and  Joculus 
respectively. 

Secondly,  we  have  in  two,  or  even  in  three,  plays  a  physical  (2)  Physi- 
allegory,  something  akin  to  that  of  the  later  Morals  like  The  Four  ca^ 
Elements  (printed  1519),  whose  object  it  was  to  diffuse  secular 
knowledge.  In  Endimion  one  of  the  functions  performed  by  Cynthia 
and  Tellus  is  to  represent  the  Moon  and  the  Earth  respectively, 
a  function  not  easily  reconcileable  with  their  other  functions  as 
members  of  a  Court.  For  instance  Tellus,  on  whom  Floscula,  the 
little  flower,  is  dependent,  and  from  whom  the  witch  Dipsas  gathers 
simples,  is  imprisoned  and  also  beloved  by  the  warrior  Corsites.  If 
this  might  pass,  yet  her  intrigues  to  detach  Endimion  from  Cynthia 
would  be  appropriate  to  her  only  as  representing  worldliness  or  the 
lower  passions,  not  as  representing  the  physical  world.  Nor  can 
Cynthia,  the  Moon,  be  appropriately  represented  as  holding  her 
court  on  the  Earth,  i.  e.  on  Tellus,  whom  she  imprisons,  rather  than 
in  heaven2.  So,  too,  in  The  Woman,  as  Steinhauser  points  out3, 

1  Famine,  however,  described,  not  introduced,  in  Loves  Met.  Act  ii,  affords  an 
exact  parallel ;  and  we  may  compare  the  figures  of  Ingratitude,  Treachery,  and 
Envy  in  Endimion's  dream  described  Act  v.  sc.  i,  vol.  iii.  p.  67.  Of  the  three  instances 
in  The  Woman,  Discord  at  least  was  personified  by  the  ancients. 

8  This  physical  allegory,  for  the  fuller  illustration  of  which  the  reader  is  referred 

to  the  essay  appended  to  Endimion,  vol.  iii.  p.  82,  appears  most  prominently 

« in  the  first  Act,  where  Endimion's  purpose  of  misleading  Eumenides  about  the  object 

of  his  passion  harmonizes  with  the  author's  caution  in  introducing  his  real  subject. 

3  John  Lyly  als  Dramatiker:  Inaugural-Dissertation,  Halle,  1884,  p.  19.    I  have 


256  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

the  Seven  Planets  are  not  merely  gods  of  antiquity,  nor  astrological 
influences,  but  also  heavenly  bodies,  in  one  of  which  Pandora  finds 
a  resting-place.  To  these  I  think  we  may  add  the  less  marked 
identification  of  Ceres  with  her  own  corn  in  Loves  Metamorphosis, 
Act  ii  (near  the  beginning) ;  the  good  relations  in  the  play  between 
Cupid  and  Ceres  being  part  of  the  same  physical  allegory,  suggested 
probably  by  the  proverb  quoted  by  Cupid  himself,  v.  i.  45,  and  by 
Lyly  elsewhere — Sine  Cerere  et  Baccho  friget  Venus. 
(3)  Pet-so-  Lyly's  third  and  by  far  his  most  frequent  and  important  use  of 
Allegory  consists  in  his  bold  introduction  to  the  stage  of  a  new  form, 
personal  and  political,  by  which  real  people  in  the  Court-life  around 
him  are  represented  under  some  known  mythological  figure,  or 
simply  under  the  cloak  of  a  classical  name.  For  allegory  of  this 
kind  he  had,  in  lyric  poetry,  the  example  of  Spenser.  Steinhauser 
notes  its  presence  in  The  Shepheardes  Kalender,  1579 ;  and  we  may 
add  the  instance  of  another  early  work  of  Spenser's,  Mother  Hubberds 
Tale  (the  alternative  title  of  which  is  actually  Prosopopoia,  or  '  mask- 
making,'),  though  it  did  not  appear  in  print  till  the  Complaints,  1591. 
This  third  kind  of  allegory  is,  except  in  the  case  of  The  Woman, 
uniformly  employed  by  Lyly  for  the  purpose  of  flattering  his  royal 
mistress.  It  is  found  in  all  the  plays  except  the  two  which  represent 
real  life.  In  four,  Endimion,  Sapho  and  Phao,  Midas,  and  Loves 
Metamorphosis,  it  is  more  or  less  elaborate,  introducing  other  persons 
besides  Elizabeth  :  in  the  other  two  it  is  confined  to  the  Queen,  who 
is  represented  by  Diana  in  Gallathea,  and  possibly  by  Pandora  or 
Luna  in  The  Woman  \  In  no  case,  however,  is  it  allowed  to  usurp 

found  Steinhauser's  remarks  on  Lyly's  use  of  Allegory  very  helpful  in  clearing 
my  own  ideas,  though  I  think  he  considers  a  little  too  curiously  in  regard  to  the 
singly-  and  doubly- allegorical  figures. 

1  If  personal  allegory  exists  in  this  play,  it  is  satirical  rather  than  compli 
mentary.  The  idea  was  suggested  by  Mezieres  {Pr£d£ces$eurs  et  Contcmporains 
de  Shakespeare,  1863,  p.  70).  '  Revoke  de  Pava/ice  de  la  reine,  il  composa,  sous 
le  title  de  "La  Femme  dans  la  Lune,"  une  cotnedie  en  vers  assez  spirituelle,  dont 
les  defauts  des  femmes  font  tous  les  frais.  II  n'en  mettait  aucune  hors  de  cause, 
et  ses  epigrajnmes  retombaient  sur  la,  souveraine  aussi  bien  que  sur  toutes  les 
personnes  de  son  sexe.  II  condamna  Elisabeth  a  voir  sur  la  scene  une  femme  qui 
est  considered  comme  le  type  de  toutes  les  autres,  Pandore,  la  premiere-nee  de  la 
nature,  passer  par  toute  la  serie  des  faiblesses  humaines,  par  la  mauvaise  humeur, 
par  1' ambition,  par  la  lubricite,  par  la  fureur,  par  le  mensonge  et  par  1'inconstance. 
Ce  qu'il  y  a  de  plus  piquant,  c'est  que  cette  Pandore,  sollicitee  par  les  differentes 
planetes  de  choisir  1'une  d'elles  pour  demeure,  fixe  sa  residence  ^.dans  la  lune,  et 
que  la  lune  porte  pre'cise'ment  le  nom  de  Cynthie,  sous  lequel  Elisabeth  aimait 
a  etre  designee.  C'etait  presque  insinuer  que  tous  les  defauts  se  donnaient 
rendez-vous  chez  la  reine.  Sauf  cette  petite  vengeance,  dont  il  ne  parait  pas  que 
la  reine  se  soit  irritee,  mais  qui  ne  delia  probablement  pas  les  cordons  de  sa  bourse, 


PLAYS  CONTAINING  POLITICAL  ALLEGORY      257 

upon  the  play;  it  is  given  only  such  development  as  is  consistent 
with  the  dramatic  form ;  and  the  fact  of  this  steady  subordination,  or 
rather  independence,  which  allows  the  play  to  be  understood  simply 
as  it  stands  without  any  underlying  signification,  is  no  doubt  the 
reason  why  its  true  extent  so  long  passed  unrecognized.  The 
allusions  in  Midas  to  Philip  of  Spain  and  his  designs  on  England 
were  the  first  to  attract  the  notice  of  a  modern  critic,  being  pointed 
out  in  Dilke's  introductory  remarks  (Old  Plays,  vol.  i.  1814) :  in 
1843  Halpin  propounded  in  Oberorfs  Vision  his  elaborate  inter 
pretation  of  Endimion  as  a  version  of  the  relations  between 
Leicester,  Elizabeth,  and  two  other  ladies  *,  an  interpretation  which 
I  feel  to  require  extensive  modifications :  while  to  Mr.  Fleay  must, 
I  believe,  be  credited  the  discovery  that  Sapho  and  Phao  relates 
to  Elizabeth's  courtship  by  the  Due  d'Alengon.  The  allusion 
in  Loves  Metamorphosis  to  Essex'  quarrel  with  the  Queen  is  first 
suggested  here. 

To  these  instances  should  perhaps  be  added  some  work  re 
ferred  to  in  Pappe,  vol.  iii.  ('Would  those  Comedies  might  be 
allowed  to  be  plaid  that  are  pend,  and  then  I  am  sure  he  would 
be  decyphered,'  &c.)  as  introducing  Martin  Marprelate  'in  a 
cap'de  cloak'  and  sombre  attire,  of  which  work  Lyly  may  have 
been  the  author.  'Martin,'  he  says,  'can  play  nothing  but  the 
knaues  part';  and  the  work  referred  to  may  have  formed  the  missing 

Lyly  ne  s'applique  qu'a  varier  la  forme  des  compliments  qu'il  lui  adresse.'  It  is 
a  point  very  difficult  to  decide.  The  idea  is  not  impossible,  though  the  piece  was 
played  before  the  Queen  herself.  Lyly  may  have  trusted  his  covert  satire  to  get 
home,  and  yet  escape  punishment.  At  any  rate  the  publication  of  the  play  was 
delayed  for  two  years  after  the  date  of  its  entry  on  the  Register,  Sept.  22,  1595, 
and  it  may  possibly  have  been  the  cause  of  that  sudden  royal  displeasure  to  which 
Lyly  refers  in  his  first  petition,  presented  the  same  year.  Yet  satire  of  the  Queen 
is  inconsistent  with  those  expectations  of  royal  favour  which  this  petition  reveals. 
See  Life,  vol.  i.  pp.  63-4.  If  we  acknowledge  merely  a  satire  on  the  sex  in 
general,  it  must  rather  be  classed  among  the  first  of  the  three  kinds  of  allegory 
here  noted. 

1  Dilke  (Old  Plays,  vol.  ii.  1814)  merely  says,  '  Who  was  the  person  that  sat 
for  the  picture  of  Endymion  in  the  present  drama  (or  whether  any  particular 
person  was  intended),  is  left  to  the  judgment  or  imagination  of  the  reader';  while 
Hazlitt  (Lectures  on  the  Dram.  Lit.  of  the  Age  of  Elizabeth,  1821)  is  so  far  from 
suspecting  the  scope  of  Lyly's  intention  that  he  writes — '  It  does  not  take  away 
from  the  pathos  of  this  poetical  allegory  on  the  chances  of  love  and  the  progress 
of  human  life,  that  it  may  be  supposed  to  glance  indirectly  at  the  conduct  of  Queen 
Elizabeth  to  our  author,  who,  after  fourteen  years'  expectation  of  the  place  of 
Master  of  the  Revels,  was  at  last  disappointed.  This  princess  took  no  small 
delight  in  keeping  her  poets  in  a  sort  of  Fool's  Paradise.1 

For  the  limits  of  the  allegory  in  these  three  plays  the  reader  is  referred,  for 
Endimion  to  the  essay,  vol.  iii.  pp.  81-103,  for  Sapho  and  Midas  to  what  is  said 
under  Sources  in  the  introductions  to  these  plays  and  to  the  Notes  passim* 

BOND  ii  S 


'58 


LYLY   AS   A  PLAYWRIGHT 


Story  in 
dependent 
«f  allegory. 


Summary 

of  the 
allegories 


comic  element  in  Loves  Metamorphosis,  expunged  before  performance 
or  publication. 

In  making  these  allegorical  plays  able  to  stand  without  their 
allegory,  Lyly  showed  a  true  dramatic  instinct  which  has  no  doubt 
tended  to  preserve  them  from  oblivion ;  but  of  course  the  allegory 
suffered  in  readiness  of  effect  and  appeal.  To  be  sure  of  its  stage- 
effect  an  allegory  should  be  not  only  simple,  but  obvious :  if  the 
action  is  intelligible  without  it,  the  audience  will  probably  not 
trouble  itself  about  an  allegory  at  all.  In  Sapho  and  Midas  we  may 
perhaps  consider  that  it  remains  within  the  bounds  of  a  ready 
comprehensibility :  but  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  a  symbolism  so 
elaborate  as  that  of  Endimion,  where  Cynthia  stands  for  (i)  Chastity 
or  the  Moon-goddess,  (2)  the  Moon,  (3)  Elizabeth,  and  where 
there  is  a  complex  multiplicity  of  other  interests;  or  of  Loves 
Metamorphosis,  where  Ceres  stands  for  (i)  Bounty  or  the  goddess 
of  crops,  (2)  corn,  (3)  Elizabeth,  could  easily  be  followed  except  by 
a  reader.  Yet  we  must  remember  the  allegorical  custom  of  the  time, 
the  attentive  habit  of  mind  fostered  by  the  Moralities,  and  the  fact 
that  the  events  and  persons  involved  were  still  in  fresh  occupation 
of  the  auditors'  thoughts.  The  Prologues  and  Epilogues  to  Sapho 
and  Endimion  at  any  rate  quite  clearly  anticipate  that  the  audience 
will  seize  the  author's  meaning.  On  Lyly's  side,  too,  as  Steinhauser 
points  out,  was  the  modernity  of  Elizabethan  classical  conceptions, 
which  allowed  contemporary  men  and  women  to  be  represented 
under  classical  guise  without  obliterating  their  identity 1.  Nor  must 
it  be  forgotten  that  the  prohibition  against  treating  matters  of  state 
upon  the  stage  compelled  Lyly  to  maintain  at  least  such  veil  as 
might  warrant  the  Master  of  the  Revels  in  authorizing  performance. 
Cautiously  at  first,  he  weds  to  the  classical  tale  of  Sappho  and  Phao 
the  marriage-negotiations  between  the  Queen  and  Alengon,  repre 
senting  both  parties  as  puppets  in  the  hands  of  the  classical  divinity 

1  '  Ungeachtet  seiner  Belesenheit  war  es  dem  damaligen  Publikum  im  allge- 
meinen  nicht  moglich,  sich  in  den  Geist  des  klassischen  Alterthums  zu  versetzen. 
Sie  betrach teten  vielmehr  jenes  nur  als  ein  Spiegelbild  ihrer  eigenen  Zeit,  iibertrugen 
ihre  Anschauungen  auf  dasselbe  und  vollzogen  so  unbewnsst  eine  Umbildung  des 
klassischen  Alterthums  in  das  Romantische.  Die  zahlreichen  Berijhrungspunkte, 
welche  klassisches  Alterthum  und  Mittelalter  dadurch  erhielten,  erleichterten  den 
fantasiereichen  Zeitgenossen  Lyly's  eine  Vermengung  beider.  Unser  Dichter  steht 
also  durchaus  in  der  Anschauung  seiner  Zeit,  wenn  er  in  der  einen  Scene  Jupiter 
als  Lenker  der  menschlichen  Geschicke  und  verliebten  Gemahl  der  eiferslichtigen 
Juno  {The  Woman,  ii.  i)  ganz  im  Geiste  Ovids  auftreten  lasst,  und  dann  in  der 
letzten  Scene  den  erlauchten  Weltbeherrscher  als  einfachen  Planeten  rait  anderen 
Ilimmelskorpern  zusammen  im  Sinne  des  christlichen  Mittelalters  mitwirken  lasst' 
{John  Lyly  als  Dramatiker,  pp  22-3). 


ITS   VARYING   RELATION  TO   THE   PLOT        259 

of  Love.  With  more  directness,  later  on,  he  utters  by  the  mouth  of 
Diana  and  Ceres,  chosen  as  representatives  of  an  enthroned  Chastity, 
the  sentiments  (somewhat  softened  in  the  later  case)  under  which 
Elizabeth  was  wont  to  cover  her  jealousy  of  marriage  among  the 
members  of  her  Court.  At  length,  with  a  daring  that  must  fairly 
have  astonished  his  contemporaries,  he  ventures  in  Endimion  on  an 
elaborate  transcription  of  the  history  of  the  reign;  introducing 
Elizabeth  with  hardly  an  attempt  at  disguise,  and  exhibiting  not 
only  that  love  for  Leicester  which  was  the  one  real  passion  of  her 
life,  but  also  the  danger  she  stood  in  from  the  constant  rivalry  of  the 
Scottish  queen  (Tellus),  while  he  surrounds  her  with  some  of 
the  most  conspicuous  figures  in  the  courtly  circle,  Sir  Philip  Sidney, 
the  Shrewsburies,  Sir  Amyas  Paulet  (Mary's  gaoler),  and  others. 
His  sense  of  his  own  temerity  is  reflected  in  the  Epilogue ;  but  in 
this  case  at  least  he  may  have  had  the  powerful  support  of  Leicester. 
Later  on  he  embodies  in  Midas  (1589)  the  national  sense  of  triumph 
over  the  insolent  aggression  of  Philip  of  Spain ;  and  last  of  all  he 
reproduces  in  the  churlish  farmer,  Erisichthon,  who  owes  his  wealth 
to  Ceres'  bounty,  the  ungrateful  designs  of  the  favourite  Essex 
against  his  royal  mistress..  Loves  Metamorphosis  was  written,  or,  as 
I  think,  rewritten,  in  the  latter  part  of  1599,  when  Essex  was  under 
the  royal  displeasure  on  account  of  his  misconduct  of  affairs  in 
Ireland,  but  before  his  final  revolt  had  compelled  the  Queen  to 
harden  her  heart  against  him ;  so  that  it  was  still  possible  for  Lyly 
to  attribute  the  reconciliation  of  Ceres  with  Erisichthon  to  the 
intervention  of  Cupid. 

The  allegories  here  noted,  though  never  necessary  to  the  plot,   Deg>-c.e  of 
receive  a  very  varying  degree  of  fusion  with  it.     Where,  as  in  the  ffa°£$or 
case  of  Diana,  the   allegory  is   confined  to  a  single  figure,  it   is  with  the 
comparatively  insignificant;    but   in   the  more   elaborate   cases  its 
management  is  a  difficult  matter.     The  fusion  is  most  perfect  in 
Endimion,  because  there  the  allegory  is  the  plot.     Though  the  play 
might  be  witnessed  or  read  without  a  thought  of  the  underlying 
reference,  or   at   least  without  further   identification   than   that   of 
Cynthia  with  the  Queen,  yet  the  story  it  tells  is  entirely  dictated 
by  the  Court-history  to  which  it  corresponds,  and  has  no  original 
apart  from  that ;  the  kiss  of  Cynthia,  though  it  dictates  the  title  of 
the  play,  being  a  mere  poetical  ornament  transplanted  by  Lyly  from 
the  field  of  classical  myth.     In  Sapho  the  identification  of  story  and 
allegory  is  far  less  complete.     The   allegory  is  still   powerful ;    it 

s  2 


260  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

dictates  the  choice  and  the  modifications  of  the  subject :  but  never 
theless  the  plot  reposes  on  a  definite  classical  tale,  however  ingeniously 
amplified  and  accommodated  to  the  Court-history.  Loves  Metamorpho 
sis  exhibits  a  third  degree  of  fusion,  dramatically,  perhaps,  the  best ; 
the  classical  tale  adopted  being  closely  followed,  and  the  allegory, 
though  correspondent  to  it,  lying  merely  parallel  and  attached,  and 
not  dictating  any  of  the  events  in  the  play.  Lastly,  in  Midas  the 
allegory  is  neither  fused  with,  nor  properly  speaking  parallel  to, 
the  plot ;  but  is  simply  foisted  into  a  subject  to  which  it  is  not  really 
applicable.  The  ambitions  of  Midas  do  indeed  dictate  his  request 
for  the  golden  gift ;  but,  for  a  perfect  fusion,  his  greed  and  tyranny, 
his  oppression  of  surrounding  countries  (i.  e.  Portugal  and  the 
Netherlands),  his  designs  on  the  heroic  islanders  and  King  of  Lesbos 
(i.  e.  England)  and  the  defeat  of  those  designs,  should  have  been 
made  identical  with  the  two  instances  of  folly  which  bring  such 
suffering  upon  him.  Instead  of  that,  the  allusions  to  Midas'  political 
action  remain  outside  of  those  incidents,  which  happen  in  his  purely 
personal  and  domestic  sphere,  though  his  remorseful  soliloquies 
endeavour  to  give  them  an  external  connexion  with  his  policy. 
Hence  the  inconsistency  that,  while  the  expedition  against  Lesbos 
seems  about  to  commence  in  i.  i,  vol.  iii.  p.  119,  we  hear  of  it  as  having 
failed  in  iii.  i,  p.  131,  though  in  the  meantime  Midas,  under  the  tyranny 
of  his  fatal  gift,  has  been  quite  incapable  of  attention  to  external  mat 
ters.  And  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  place  the  expedition  before  the 
commencement  of  the  play,  the  change  of  tone  in  these  two  passages 
is  hardly  explicable.  Halpin  does,  indeed,  attempt  to  identify  the 
second  incident,  the  choice  between  Pan  and  Apollo,  with  Philip's 
preference  for  the  Roman  Catholic  over  the  Protestant  faith ;  but,  if 
this  were  intended,  the  warlike  or  aggressive  acts  by  which  Philip 
chiefly  manifested  that  preference  should  not  have  been  alluded  to 
by  Midas  as  separate  affairs,  nor  the  choice  itself  have  been  jealously 
kept  secret  by  the  King  from  his  daughter  and  courtiers  till  the  very 
close  of  the  play  (see  pp.  151-2,  158-9).  The  political  charges 
against  Midas  and  Philip  alike  are  greed  and  usurpation :  greed, 
indeed,  is  one  of  the  faults  for  which  Midas  suffers  in  the  play ;  but 
in  the  second  incident,  and  partly  in  the  first,  he  is  censured  rather 
for  folly,  conceit  of  judgement,  and  bad  taste.  In  fact  the  story  told 
by  Ovid  did  not  really  admit  of  the  close  application  Lyly  wished 
to  make. 

I  have  alluded  to  the  satire  on  women  in  Pandora.     With  this  we 


OTHER   REALISTIC   ELEMENTS  261 

may  range  some  milder  instances  of  satire  used  to  give  point  and 
variety  to  his  comic  scenes — notably  Diogenes'  invective  in  Campaspe 
against  the  vices  of  Athens,  which  may  possibly  stand  for  Oxford  as 
it  did  in  Euphues ;  the  ridicule  of  formal  logic  in  Sapho,  ii.  3,  and  of 
the  Latin  Grammar  of  Lilly  and  Colet  in  Endimion,  iii.  3  and  Mother 
Bombie,  iii.  2,  Lyly  making  the  boys  who  acted  his  plays  repeat 
jokingly,  as  boys  have  immemorially  done,  the  phrases  he  had  taught 
them  seriously  in  the  class-room;  the  ridicule  in  Gallathea  of  alchemy 
and  astrology  which  still  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth  counted  their 
votaries  and  their  dupes  ;  of  sailors'  jargon  in  the  same  play ;  of  the 
vocabulary  of  sport  and  the  lingo  of  barbers  in  Midas ;  and  of  poets' 
fine  talk  about  Love  in  a  clever  speech  of  Nisa  in  Loves  Metamorphosis, 
ii.  i,  vol.  iii.  p.  308.  In  these,  as  in  the  quarrel  of  Scintilla  and 
Favilla  in  Endimion,  ii.  2,  in  women's  shrewd  criticism  of  men 
(Sapho,  i.  4,  p.  379),  in  Pandion's  satirical  remarks  on  Court-life  after 
Guevara  and  Euphues,  and  in  Mellacrites'  eulogy  of  the  power  of 
gold  (Midas,  i.  i,  vol.  iii.  p.  117),  Lyly  anticipates  the  gloomier,  sterner 
work  of  Marston.  I  do  not  find,  however,  that  either  Marston  or 
Dekker,  who  may  be  said  to  owe  something  to  Lyly's  character-parts, 
exhibits  distinct  echoes  of  him  ! ;  though  in  Chapman's  earliest  play 
All  Fools  Day  is  a  scene  (iii.  i)  where  a  page,  making  fun  of  the 
jealous  Cornelio,  reproduces  the  euphuistic  style,  and  even  some 
phrases  from  Euphues. 

The  instances  of  his  infusion  of  the  tragic  spirit  are  not  very  (/)  Tra 
numerous,  nor  very  moving :  Whetstone  is  his  superior  in  this  elements- 
respect.  But  we  may  note  the  scene  of  Haebe  condemned  to  the 
sacrifice  (Gallathea,  v.  2),  the  sleep  of  Endimion  and  the  matter  of 
the  Dumb  Show,  the  general  temper  of  the  scene  between  Geron 
and  Eumenides  by  the  magic  fountain,  Midas'  danger  of  starvation 
by  the  golden  gift,  the  slaughter  of  Fidelia  in  Loves  Metamorphosis, 
the  wasting  of  Erisichthon  by  famine  and  the  sale  of  Protea.  None 
of  them  reach  a  true  tragic  dignity.  Whether  from  natural  incapacity, 
or  because  the  Queen  and  Court  preferred  to  be  amused  rather  than 
stirred  or  touched,  Lyly  never  handles  a  theme  either  weightily  or 
with  real  tenderness.  I  have  noted  the  failure  to  rise  to  the 
opportunity  of  passion  in  Campaspe :  just  so  the  opportunity  of 
pathos  in  Eumenides'  surrender  of  Semele,  and  in  Endimion's 

1  Fairholt,  however,  cites  a  single  instance  from  Marston's  What  You  Will 
(pub.  1607),  v.  i,  where  among  the  'variety  of  discourse'  and  '  coppy  of  phrase  ' 
with  which  Simplicius  proposes  to  court  his  mistress,  is  '  Sweete  lady;  Ulisses 
dog ;  there's  a  stone  called  —  ' ;  but  it  goes  no  further  than  this. 


262  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

awakening  after  forty  years  of  slumber,  if  perceived,  is  but  faintly 
grasped.  Lyly  seems  to  have  had  some  constitutional  difficulty  in 
getting  away  from  the  artificial,  in  piercing  the  crust  of  courtly 
manner  and  observance.  His  characters  gambol  or  saunter  grace 
fully  through  an  ideal  world,  where  everybody  quotes  Latin  and  has 
wit  and  high  spirits ;  a  world  where  suffering,  if  not  absent,  is  but 
faintly  realized  or  expressed,  a  world  therefore  somewhat  lacking  in 
that  true  humour  whose  best  nurse  is  the  kindly  sternness  of  real 
life.  It  is  here  that  he  shows  so  far  inferior  to  his  great  pupil.  Even 
in  those  earliest  plays  where  Shakespeare  is  most  influenced  by  Lyly's 
structural  tendencies,  there  is  a  humour,  a  humanity,  behind  the 
trifling,  the  jokes,  and  thQ  affectations,  to  which  Lyly  in  his  ripest 
work  never  attains  ;  while  Love's  Labours  Lost  contains  an  obvious 
satire  on  the  notion  that  polite  society,  its  sayings  and  doings — the 
very  sphere  of  Lyly's  excellence — was  life  in  any  real  sense  at  all. 

3.  His  DRAMATIC  CONSTRUCTION  AND  TECHNIQUE. 

The  established  playwright  of  to-day  would  probably  agree  with 
the  modern  manager  and  actor  that  for  the  inditing  of  a  good  play 
much  more  is  needed  than  general  education,  close  observation  of 
life  and  the  vital  force  of  imagination.  He  would  insist  not  merely 
on  the  study  of  past  drama,  but,  above  all,  on  such  acquaintance 
with  the  preparation,  mounting,  and  rendering  of  plays  as  can  only 
be  gleaned  behind  the  scenes  of  a  theatre,  and  possibly  by  actual 
personal  appearance  upon  the  boards.  And  he  would  point  to  the 
fact  that  most  of  the  early  playwrights,  including  Shakespeare, 
possessed  this  practical  knowledge  of  dramatic  art.  But  the  modern 
critic  may  question  whether  this  dictum  is  much  more  than  mere 
professionalism ;  or  an  instance  of  the  fallacy  of  elevating  personal 
experience  into  an  absolute  rule.  Such  personal  acquaintance  with 
the  stage  has  doubtless  drawn  many  to  become  playwrights,  and  has 
facilitated  the  acceptance  and  performance  of  their  work ;  but,  in 
spite  of  modern  scenic  conditions  and  the  widened  range  of  dramatic 
effect,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  an  adequate  technique  cannot  be 
acquired  from  thoughtful  study  of  the  printed  drama,  and  intelligent 
observation  of  the  stage  from  the  auditorium.  We  must,  however, 
admit  that  the  first  acceptance  of  a  piece  initiates  practical  acquaint 
ance  ;  and  an  increased  familiarity,  at  least  with  the  personnel  of  the 
stage,  must  be  the  result. 
llh  inter-  So  far  as  we  know,  Lyly,  unlike  many  of  his  dramatic  contemporarieSj 


MORE   ROMANTIC   THAN   CLASSICAL  2(33 

was  not,  or  not  at  first,  an  actor  *.    By  occupation  and  social  position  mediate 
he  belonged  rather  to  the  number  of  those  educated  and  privileged  ^t^een  (/ie 
persons  who  enjoyed  the  opportunity  of  witnessing  private  perform-  pseudo- 
anees  of  work  by  University  scholars ;  and  to  the  imitation  of  such  ca^l/^e 
he  must  have  addressed  himself.     At  the  same  time,  since  Court  romantic 
performances  were  mainly  furnished  by  the  actors  of  the  popular 
stage,  he  must  also  have  seen  many  of  their  pieces.    Hence  it  comes 
that  his  plays  occupy  in  many  respects  a  midway  position  between 
the  revived  classical  dramas  and  the  freedom  of  the  romantic  play 
wrights  ;  and  to  his  example  more  than  to  any  other  must  be  credited 
the  gradual  infusion  of  order  and  a  sense  of  form  into  the  irregular 
and  shapeless  products  of  the  popular  stage. 

Of  the  traditional  devices  of  classic  drama,  however,  at  least  as  (#)  devices. 
revived  in  England,  he  is  hardly  an  adherent:  they  were,  indeed,  ^•c^assicai: 
more  proper  to  tragedy,  which  he  does  not  attempt.  He  has  no 
instance  of  a  Chorus  between  the  Acts  or  within  them  ;  no  Nuntius 
to  recite  what  cannot  be  acted ;  Dumb  Show  (a  mediaeval  growth) 
only  once,  and  then  not  to  represent  the  action  of  the  play  but 
to  supplement  the  allegory ;  no  instance  of  Stichomythia,  though  his 
punning  and  word-play  may  be  considered  as  replacing  it;  and 
though  he  deals  in  Prologues  and  Epilogues,  they  are  used  in  ever 
diminishing  measure,  and  are  not  designed  to  inform  or  assist 
comprehension  of  the  argument  (except  in  the  case  of  The  Woman), 
but  to  conciliate  the  favour  of  the  Queen  or  the  audience  by  flatteries 
and  a  judicious  show  of  modesty 2.  Considering  the  large  mytho 
logical  element  in  his  work,  the  deus  ex  machina  could  hardly  be 
avoided :  it  appears  properly  only  once,  in  the  person  of  Venus  in 
Gallathea  ;  although  in  Sapho  Cupid,  in  The  Woman  Nature,  and 
in  Midas  and  Loves  Metamorphosis  Apollo  and  Cupid  respectively, 
untie  at  the  close  the  knot  they  have  previously  entangled. 

Of  devices  for  securing  variety  and   enhancing  interest,  devices   2.  roman- 
which   may  perhaps   more  properly    be   claimed   by  the   romantic  5^"    •. 
drama,  he  is  fairly  liberal,     (i)  He  is  the  introducer  of  dramatic 
disguise,  especially  of  a  woman  as  a  man,  of  which  Shakespeare  and 
Beaumont  made  such  excellent  use  later  on — the  instances  being 
Gallathea  and  Phillida  disguised  as  boys,  and  in  the  same  play 

1  See  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  37. 

2  Campaspe  has  two  prologues  and  two  epilogues,  Sapho  two  prologues  and  one 
epilogue,  Gallathea  and  Endimion  one  prologue  and  one  epilogue,  Midas  and 
Tht  Woman  each  a  prologue  only,  Mother  Bombie  and  Loves  Met.  neither  prologue 
nor  epilogue. 


264 


LYLY   AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 


Cupid  as  a  nymph,  and  Neptune  as  a  shepherd,  announced  in  ii.  2, 
but  not  extant  in  the  present  version  of  the  play ;  in  Mother  Bombie, 
Accius  and  Silena  disguised  as  Candius  and  Livia,  and  vice  versa, 
while  in  Moestius  and  Serena  we  have  cases  of  concealed  identity  ; 
in  The  Woman  Stesias  disguises  himself  in  his  wife's  clothes  to  inflict 
chastisement  on  the  amorous  shepherds;  while  in  Loves  Metamorphosis 
Protea  assumes  the  form  first  of  a  fisherman  (reported)  and  then  of 
Ulysses.  Disguises  give,  of  course,  excellent  opportunity  for  what 
has  been  called  'dramatic  irony'  or  the  utterance  of  speeches 
intelligible  to  the  audience  who  are  in  the  secret,  but  not  to  the 

dreams,  other  characters  upon  the  stage.  (2)  A  favourite  device  is  the 
narration  by  the  characters  of  their  dreams,  on  the  imagination  of 
which  Lyly  expends  much  taste  and  trouble :  those  told  by  Sapho, 
iv.  3  and  Endimion,  v.  i,  vol.  iii.  pp.  66-7,  are  allegorical,  those 
of  Sapho's  ladies  (iv.  3)  of  an  ideal  and  poetic  character,  while  that  of 
Sir  Tophas  (Endimion,  iii.  3,  p.  46)  and  the  most  ingenious  ones 
of  Lucio  and  Halfpenny  in  Mother  Bombie,  iii.  4,  vol.  iii.  pp.  202-3, 

ballet,  &<-.,  are  comic.  (3)  Nor  does  Lyly  neglect  the  element  of  ballet  and 
pantomime,  which  is  closely  bound  up  with  the  songs  strewn  through 
out  his  work.  In  Campaspe,  v.  i  we  have  dancing  by  Perim  and 
tumbling  by  Milo ;  in  Sapho  the  drinking-song  of  iii.  2  and  the 
1  Song,  in  making  of  the  Arrowes,'  iv.  4  were  probably  accompanied 
by  a  good  deal  of  pantomimic  action ;  in  Gallathea,  ii.  3  we  have 
a  ballet  of  Fairies  unconnected  with  the  plot ;  in  Endimion,  besides 
the  Dumb  Show,  a  ballet  of  Fairies  who  have  some  connexion  with 
the  action ;  the  song  in  Midas,  iii.  2  is  evidently  accompanied  by  the 
actual  extraction  of  Petulus'  tooth ;  in  The  Woman  there  is  a  good 
deal  of  action,  fighting,  banqueting,  and  dancing ;  while  in  Loves 
Metamorphosis  the  stage-direction  prescribes  a  dance  by  the  nymphs 

fongs.  in  i.  2.  (4)  Of  songs  Lyly  is  lavish ;  they  were,  as  Symonds  pointed 

out1,  the  natural  and  very  pleasing  result  of  employing  choir-boys 
to  act.  We  have  earlier  instances  in  Gammer  Gurton  and  Damon 
and  Pithias.  Lyly's  eight  plays  contain  no  fewer  than  thirty-two, 
of  which  twenty-one  are  preserved  to  us  in  Blount's  edition — three 
in  Campaspe,  four  in  Sapho,  two  in  Gallathea,  three  in  Endimion, 
five  in  Midas,  four  in  Mother  Bombie,  while  the  remaining  eleven 
are  indicated  in  the  oldest  texts,  though  their  actual  words  are 
omitted,  except  of  two  in  The  Woman,  which  have  hitherto  been 

1  Shakespeare's  Predecessors,  p.  303.     For  some  comparative  estimate  of  Lyly's, 
see  below,  p.  293. 


SONGS,    LOST   AND   SURVIVING  265 

printed,  the  first  altogether,  the  second  in  part,  as  part  of  the 
ordinary  dialogue.  The  missing  nine  occur  in  Campaspe,  v.  3,  p.  353 
(by  Lais,  Milectus,  and  Phrygius),  Endimion,  ii.  3,  vol.  iii.  p.  39 
(Bagoa  ordered  to  'sing  the  inchantment  for  sleepe'),  iii.  4,  p.  47 
(Geron  at  the  opening  of  the  scene),  Mother  Bombie,  v.  3,  p.  2 1 7  (by 
the  musicians,  specified  as  'The  Love-Knot '),  The  Woman,  i.  i,  p.  243 
('a  roundelay  in  praise  of  Nature'),  i.  i,  p.  248  (by  the  shepherds  to 
calm  Pandora),  Loves  Metamorphosis,  i.  2,  p.  304  (by  the  nymphs), 
iii.  i,  p.  313  (Niobe  and  Silvestris),  iv.  2,  p.  322  (where  the  Siren 
sings  twice).  The  absence  of  the  whole  thirty-two  (except  the  two 
just  mentioned  as  merged  in  the  dialogue  of  The  Woman]  from  the 
quarto  editions  has  cast  some  doubt  upon  Lyly's  authorship  :  but 
some  of  them  seem  too  dainty  to  be  written  by  an  unknown  hand, 
there  is  a  uniformity  of  alternative  manners  and  measures,  and 
I  believe  we  may  find  the  true  explanation  of  their  omission  in 
the  fact  that  Lyly  was  his  own  stage- manager,  and  the  probability 
that  he  was  also  his  own  composer.  Handed  by  him  to  his  boys  in 
manuscript  together  with  the  music,  the  words  of  them  would  not 
need  to  be  inserted  at  all  in  the  separate  acting-parts,  nor  in  the 
prompt  copy ;  and  when  the  plays  found  their  way  to  the  printer's, 
there  may  still  have  been  some  reason  connected  with  the  sale  of  the 
music  for  not  inserting  them.  Or  perhaps  Lyly  had  parted  with  his 
printing-rights  in  the  plays ;  and  the  publication,  of  which  he  may 
have  been  ignorant,  was  carried  out  without  obtaining  the  songs 
from  him.  But  in  every  case,  both  of  those  preserved  by  Blount 
and  those  that  are  wanting,  the  occurrence  of  a  song  is  indicated 
either  in  the  dialogue  or  stage-directions  of  the  oldest  editions. 

Stage-furniture  or  properties  may  claim  a  word.  The  central  stage- 
structure  at  the  back  is  constantly  in  evidence ;  being  used  for  fur 
Alexander's  palace  and  Apelles'  studio,  for  Sapho's  bedchamber, 
Sybilla's  cave  and  Vulcan's  forge,  for  the  lunary-bank  and  Corsites' 
castle,  for  Apollo's  shrine  in  Midas,  for  the  tavern  and  Mother 
Bombie's  house  and  other  dwellings  required,  for  Nature's  workshop, 
and  for  Cupid's  temple.  The  upper  portion  of  it  would  be  used  for 
the  windows  from  which  Sperantus  and  Memphio  abuse  the  fiddlers, 
and  also  as  the  station  of  the  successive  Planets  in  The  Woman, 
whence  Cupid  and  Joculus  descend  to  dance  with  Pandora  (iii.  2. 
38).  The  same  play  in  the  same  scene  (p.  265)  involves  the  use  of 
a  trap-door  to  represent  the  '  hollow  vault,'  rising  out  of  which  Stesias 
is  to  surprise  the  lovers.  In  Diogenes'  tub  we  have  an  instance  of 


266  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

a  property  thrust  on,  or  up,  when  required,  its  appearance  in  the 
middle  of  a  scene  being  understood  to  constitute  a  transfer  to 
the  market-place.  In  the  two  pastorals,  Gallathea  and  Loves 
Metamorphosis,  a  large  tree  plays  a  prominent  part  upon  the  stage. 
It  can  hardly  be  identified  with  the  central  structure,  since  in  the 
latter  play  it  is  hewn  down  in  the  first  Act,  and  left  lying  during 
the  second.  Out  of  it  emerges  the  nymph  Fidelia :  and  we  may 
compare  this  with  the  transformation  of  Bagoa  from  an  aspen  to  her 
proper  shape  in  Endimion,  v.  3,  vol.  iii.  p.  79,  and  of  Gunophilus  to 
a  hawthorn  in  The  Woman,  p.  287  \  Protea's  change  to  and  from 
Ulysses  is  effected  by  her  passing  through  the  central  structure 
(iv.  2,  pp.  322-3).  The  only  other  changes  are  those  of  the  three 
nymphs  into  their  own  shape.  Just  as  'a  thicke  mist  which 
Proserpine  shall  send,'  i.e.  a  smoke  rising  through  a  trap,  is  suggested 
(p.  320)  as  the  agency  by  which  the  original  Metamorphosis  was 
to  be  effected,  so  a  'showre'  sent  down  by  Venus  (p.  328)  is  the 
cover  of  their  restoration,  which  is  performed  before  the  audience. 

But,  on  the  whole,  the  text  furnishes  little  explicit  information 
of  additions  made  at  these  Court  performances  to  the  simple  scenic 
apparatus  which  sufficed  for  Shakespeare  and  the  popular  stage ; 
though  the  Revels  Accounts  imply  the  expenditure  of  considerable 
ingenuity,  and  prove  that  of  large  sums. 
His  Lyly's  balance  between  classic  precedent  and  romantic  freedom  is 

ttide        admirably  shown  in  his  treatment  of  the  famous  Unities,  with  which 
towards  the  J 

( 'nities.        most  of  the  points  just  discussed  are  bound  up.     Growing,  all  three, 

out  of  the  conditions  under  which  the  drama  in  Greece  took  its 
rise — a  religious  occasion  which  intruded  a  large  choral  element,  an 
enormous  auditorium  in  which  detailed  action  would  have  been  lost 
and  which  induced  the  exaggeration  of  the  human  face  and  figure  by 
mask,  buskin,  and  long  robes — the  Unities  of  Time,  Place,  and 
Action  formulated  by  ancient  critics  had  obtained  the  sanction  of 
traditional  practice,  surviving  the  local  and  national  conditions 
which  gave  them  birth,  because  they  were  seen  to  enhance  the  value 
of  the  dramatic  spectacle  as  a  work  of  literature  and  art.  Deduced 
from  Greek  practice  by  Aristotle  in  the  Poetics,  they  were  nearly 
reproduced  on  the  Latin  stage  and  were  reformulated  by  Horace; 
and,  on  the  revival  of  classical  studies,  they  became  the  code  of 
scholars  writing  plays  in  direct  imitation  of  the  ancients,  first  in  Italy 
and  a  little  later  in  England.  The  outcome  of  the  contest  between 
1  Cf.  note  on  Gascoigne's  Princely  Pleasures,  below,  p.  477. 


BALANCE   ABOUT  THE   UNITIES  267 

classic  tradition  and  the  romantic  spirit  may  be  summarised  as  the 
rejection  of  what  was  purely  formal  in  the  former,  and  the  retention 
and  development  of  what  was  grounded  permanently  on  reason — as 
the  modification  of  the  rules  about  Time  and  Place,  but  the  enforce 
ment  with  wider  and  deeper  application  of  Unity  of  Action. 

Time  and  Place,  indeed,  had  been  doomed  from  the  very  first. 
The  impossibility  of  transgressing  the  limits  of  a  single  day  or  of 
shifting  the  locality  from  a  single  spot,  an  impossibility  solely  due 
to  the  continuous  presence  of  the  Chorus  on  the  stage,  disappeared 
as  soon  as  the  division  of  the  play  by  distinct  pauses  allowed  the 
stage  to  be  left  empty  during  the  intervals.  The  slight  exercise  of 
imagination  which  had  sometimes  required  the  audience  to  suppose 
a  lapse  of  hours  even  during  the  time  that  the  Chorus,  still  con 
tinuously  present,  was  singing  a  choral  ode,  could,  now  that  the  stage 
was  left  free  for  an  interval,  easily  be  extended  to  the  passing  of 
many  days :  while  the  change  of  scene  from  one  locality  to  another 
in  its  near  neighbourhood  made  inevitable  its  future  transference 
to  a  far  more  distant  place.  Both  Unities,  however,  were  strictly 
observed  in  Roister  Doister  and  Gammer  Gurton's  Needle,  as  well  as 
that  rule  of  the  continuity  of  scene  within  the  limits  of  an  Act,  by 
which  a  new-comer  always  has  business  with  people  already  on  the 
stage,  or  has  his  advent  heralded  by  them  before  they  depart.  It 
was  always  easier  to  observe  these  rules  in  Comedy,  than  to  crowd 
the  weighty  events  of  Tragedy  into  such  brief  space  and  concentrate 
them  on  one  narrow  spot ;  and  Sidney,  who  commends  Gorboduc 
for  its  classic  spirit  and  Senecan  style,  blames  it  for  its  demand  of 
*  many  dayes,  and  many  places,  inartificially  imagined  V  Of  the 
two  plays  I  have  singled  out  as  Lyly's  best  exemplars,  Damon  and 
Pithias  disregards  Time,  but  may  be  said  to  observe  Place  quite 
strictly ;  while  Promos  and  Cassandra  also  disregards  Time,  but  lays 
its  scene  at  several  spots  in  Julio  and  its  neighbourhood. 

All  Lyly's  plays  require  the  lapse  of  a  considerable  time,  with  the  Time. 
exceptions  of  Mother  Bombie  and  The  Woman,  which  occupy  two 
days  and  one  day  respectively.  And  he  is  frankly  careless  about 
exactitude  or  consistency,  where  he  has  decided  to  break  the  rule  • 
co-ordinating,  in  Gallathea,  a  year's  adventure  by  the  boys  in  the 
woods  with  the  month  or  less  required  between  the  disguise  of 
the  girls  and  the  day  when  the  virgin-tribute  falls  due;  and  repre 
senting  Endimion's  sleep  of  forty  years  as  compatible  with  the, 
1  Apologia  for  Poetrie,^.  63,  ed.  Arber. 


268 


LYLY   AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 


Place. 


Partial 
•continuity 
cf  scene. 


retention  of  youth  by  all  the  other  characters l.  Of  Place  he  is  much 
more  careful.  In  no  play  are  we  transported  far  from  the  spot 
at  which  it  opened;  save  in  Midas,  where  we  have  the  hunting- 
expedition  from  Phrygia  or  Sardis  to  Mount  Tmolus,  and  the  longer 
journey  to  Apollo's  shrine  at  'Delphos';  and  in  Endimion,  which 
includes  the  Court,  a  scene  at  Corsites'  *  castle  in  the  desert,'  and 
another  by  the  magic  fountain  which  has  taken  Eumenides  so 
many  years  to  reach,  both  these  distances  being,  however,  negatived 
elsewhere  by  Tellus'  proposal  to  re-enter  her  castle-prison  and  *  watch 
Corsites  sweating '  at  the  lunary-bank  in  the  palace-gardens,  and  by 
the  allusion  of  Epiton,  the  Court-page,  to  the  fountain  as  lying  '  hard 
by '  the  same  spot.  In  other  plays  the  Unity  is  observed,  i.  e.  the 
scene,  though  varied,  is  confined  to  one  neighbourhood;  while  in 
Gallathea,  Mother  Bombie^  and  (with  one  brief  exception  near  the 
close)  The  Woman,  the  stage  may  be  considered  as  representing 
an  identical  spot  throughout.  Further,  Lyly  endeavours  fitfully  to 
observe  that  continuity  of  scenes  which  is  a  corollary  from  the  strict 
observation  of  Time  and  Place ;  occasionally  linking  his  scenes  by 
express  words  in  the  dialogue 2,  and  sometimes  extending  their  close 
continuity  to  successive  Acts,  though  the  action  contained  therein 
may  require  a  considerable  lapse  of  time,  or  the  continuity  may  have 
been  broken  by  a  change  of  place  within  the  limits  of  the  Act. 
Thus  Act  iv  in  Sapho  immediately  follows  on  Act  iii,  and  Act  v  on 
Act  iv,  the  journey  to  the  forge  and  back  being  accomplished  within 
the  Acts :  the  last  two  Acts  of  Gallathea  both  occur  on  the  day  of 
the  sacrifice,  though  the  play  as  a  whole  asks  a  year  from  its  com 
mencement  :  and  in  Midas,  Acts  ii  and  iii,  iii  and  iv,  iv  and  v,  are 
closely  continuous,  in  spite  of  changes  of  scene.  In  plays  where 
the  Unity  of  Time  is  observed,  like  Mother  Bombie  and  The  Woman^ 
such  continuity  of  the  Acts  is  natural ;  but  in  those  which  imply  not 
only  changes  of  scene  but  considerable  lapses  of  time,  the  intervals 
should  rather  have  been  arranged  to  fall  between  the  Acts — thus 

1  So,  too,  in  Loves  Metamorphosis,  Acts  iii  and  iv  are  closely  connected  by  the 
visit  to  Cupid  announced  in  iii.  i,  and  carried  out  in  iv.  i.  though  an  interval  of 
some  hours  is  required  between  Protea's  departure  with  the  Merchant  in  iii.  2  and 
her  return  in  iv.  2,  which  we  are  thus  compelled  to  place  between  iv.  i  and  iv.  2. 
Acts  iv  and  v  are  closely  connected  by  the  '  strange  discourse '  of  Protea,  begun 
iv.  2,  vol.  iii.  p.  323,  and  just  over  in  v.  2,  p.  325  ;  yet  some  interval  is  necessary 
between  iv.  i,  where  the  foresters  plan  their  revenge,  and  v.  i,  where  Ceres  protests 
against  it,  and  v.  3,  where  the  foresters  repent  of  it. 

3  E.g.  the  opening  words  of  Gall.  v.  3  link  it  closely  to  the  scene  just  over:  the 
closing  words  of  Midas,  iv.  2  link  it  to  the  following  scene ;  Moth.  Bombie,  iii.  2 
and  3  are  verbally  linked,  and  so  are  Loves  Met.  v.  3  and  4. 


ABRUPT   TRANSFER   OF   SCENE  269 

Phao  is  made  to  visit  Sybilla  twice  in  the  single  Act  ii,  Midas' 
journey  to  Delphi  occurs  in  the  course  of  Act  v,  and  the  interval  of 
the  second  night  in  Mother  Bombie  falls  between  the  first  and  second 
scenes  of  Act  v,  not,  as  it  should  have  done,  between  Acts  iv  and  v. 
Thus  Lyly  sometimes  denies  in  one  passage  an  interval  that  he  has 
granted  in  another ;  and,  where  the  intervals  are  not  contradicted, 
he  is  not  careful  to  throw  them  between  the  Acts.  Something  Imaginary 
similar  is  his  indulgence  in  a  licence,  of  which  Whetstone's  play  ^"course* 
furnished  at  least  one  instance — the  imaginary  transfer  of  locality  of  a  scene. 
within  the  limits  of  a  scene.  Four  such  cases  at  least  occur  in 
Campaspe  (i.  3.  no;  ii.  2.  119;  iii.  4.  45,  and  again  iii.  4.  57), 
one  in  Endimion,  iv.  3,  vol.  iii.  pp.  60-1,  one  in  The  Woman,  iv. 
1.  292,  and  two  in  Loves  Metamorphosis,  ii.  i.  75-81,  iii.  157  for  fuller 
details  of  all  which  I  must  refer  the  reader  to  what  is  said  under  the 
head  of  '  Time  and  Place '  in  the  separate  Introductions  to  each  of 
those  plays.  Such  transfer  would  naturally  arise  on  a  stage  which 
possessed  no  movable  scenery  to  identify  the  locality  with  some 
particular  spot  at  the  outset;  and  would  disappear  with  the  intro 
duction  of  such.  In  Greene's  plays  occur  several  instances,  noted 
in  Dyce's  edition :  one  in  Bacon  and  Bungay,  p.  1 60  b  (from  the 
street  to  the  inside  of  the  Friar's  study),  one  in  Alphonsus  of  Arragon, 
p.  237  a  (where  two  ladies  in  a  palace  announcing  their  intention  of 
repairing  to  some  '  groves '  to  consult  the  witch  Medea,  are  met  by 
her  as  they  go  out),  and  two  others  in  George  a  Greene,  pp.  262  a, 
265  a.  I  doubt  if  any  instance  can  be  shown  in  Shakespeare's  work. 
In  some  cases,  e.g.  Campaspe,  pp.  326,  338,  Endimion,  vol.  iii.  p.  60, 
the  transition  from  one  place  to  another  is  supposed  to  be  covered  by 
the  characters  pacing  up  and  down  the  stage  as  they  converse ;  and 
this  idea  of  imaginary  progress  while  remaining  on  the  stage  should 
perhaps  be  applied  to  Campaspe's  soliloquy  in  iv.  2  after  leaving 
Apelles'  studio,  to  Apelles'  soliloquy  in  v.  2,  where,  though  he 
remains  all  the  while  in  the  market-place  near  Diogenes'  tub  (at 
which  the  preceding  and  following  scenes  take  place),  he  is  really 
on  his  way  home  from  the  palace,  and  certainly  to  the  progress  of 
Venus  and  Cupid  in  Sapho,  v.  i,  which,  commencing  outside  the 
forge,  ends  evidently  at  some  distance  from  it. 

It  should  be  further  noted  that  Lyly,  working  on  the  general  intrusive 

principle  that  there  must  be  farcical  relief  to  every  Act — a  rule  he  farce  d?.s~ 

regardm11" 
follows  in  every  play  except  Loves  Metamorphosis — does  not  scruple  scenic 

to  introduce  such,  in  his  two  earliest  plays  at  least,  even  in  some  Pro$ricty- 


270  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

interior  to  which  they  are  quite  inappropriate,  but  in  which  the  pre 
ceding  and  succeeding  scenes  are  laid.  Thus  in.  Campaspe,  iii.  2 
Psyllus,  left  by  Apelles  in  the  outer  studio  *  at  the  window,'  is  joined 
there,  somewhat  oddly,  by  Manes,  and  there  follows  the  scene  of  the 
crying  of  Diogenes'  flight,  before  Psyllus  plays  truant :  and  in  Sapho, 
Acts  ii  and  iii,  which  otherwise  take  place  wholly  before  the  cave  or 
in  Sapho's  chamber,  are  intercalated  scenes  between  the  pages  and 
the  smith  which  propriety  compels  me  to  locate  in  *  A  Street.'  This, 
like  the  imaginary  transfer,  illustrates  the  greater  freedom  claimed 
for  the  imagination  in  the  absence  of  localizing  scenery.  In  later 
plays,  however,  Lyly  takes  more  thought  for  the  proprieties,  both  by 
keeping  the  whole  Act  out  of  doors,  in  some  place  where  pages  and 
servants  might  shout  and  romp  at  ease,  and  also  by  preparing 
the  scene  by  some  hint,  e.g.  the  appearance  of  the  pages  with  the 
Huntsman  in  Midas,  iv.  3  on  their  return  from  the  hunt  is  prepared 
by  Mellacrites'  statement  at  the  end  of  Act  iii  that  the  boys  are 
probably  with  the  king.  The  absence  of  such  care  in  the  former 
instances  is  a  relic  of  the  patchwork  juxtaposition  of  farce  with 
serious  matter  in  the  Moralities,  where  clownage  was  introduced 
without  attempt  to  interweave  it  with  the  action.  Several  similar 
scenes  in  Shakespeare's  earlier  work,  if  they  do  not  violate  pro 
priety,  are  at  least  indictable  for  want  of  necessary  connexion  with 
the  action.  An  advancing  degree  of  skill  is  finely  perceptible  in 
the  incongruous,  unpleasing,  yet  properly-motived  appearance  of  the 
Musicians  after  the  tragic  scene  in  Juliet's  chamber ;  in  the  broad 
and  callous  Gravediggers,  deepening  the  pathos  of  Ophelia  and 
ministering  to  Hamlet's  macabre  mood;  and  in  the  terrible  irony 
underlying  the  drink-fuddled  moralizing  of  Macbeth's  honest,  in 
dispensable  Porter. 

To  sum  up,  Lyly  in  the  matter  of  Time  and  Place  balances  be 
tween  classical  precedent  and  romantic  freedom,  obviously  aware  of 
the  rules  and  sometimes  closely  observing  them,  at  others  pretending 
to  observe  while  he  really  violates,  at  others  frankly  disregarding 
them  and  claiming  licences  which  the  later  romantics  abandoned. 
Anachron-  Nor  did  fuller  knowledge  or  a  better-trained  taste  preserve  him 
from  the  anachronisms  which  abound  in  contemporary  work,  though 
I  think  his  instances  are  fewer.  When  Sir  Tophas  and  the  pages  make 
a  joke  of  Lilly  and  Colet's  Latin  Grammar,  when  Epiton  talks  of  '  a 
Westerne  (Thames)  barge,' vol. iii. p. 56,  andCalyphoofa  'Parenthesis,' 
vol.  ii.  p.  394,  or  when  alchemy  is  introduced  along  with  virgin-sacrifices 


ANACHRONISMS,  ETC.  271 

to  Neptune,  we  may  connect  the  anachronism  with  that  detachment 
of  the  farcical  matter  just  alluded  to,  as  an  instance  of  modern 
colouring  given  to  scenes  intended  chiefly  for  the  unlearned.  But 
no  such  excuse  can  be  urged  for  Neptune's  anger  at  a  Danish 
destruction  of  his  temple,  for  Venus'  proposal  to  change  a  girl's  sex 
1  at  the  Church-dore,'  for  the  appearance  of  Pythagoras  along  with 
Endimion,  for  Apollo's  writing  *  Sonnets '  in  Midas,  or  the  nymphs  of 
Diana  studying  them,  or  their  samplers  either,  vol.  ii.  p.  454,  for  Plato 
appearing  after  the  capture  of  Thebes,  for  Alexander's  soldiers  wearing 
gloves  as  favours  in  their  caps,  for  Pandora  promising  her  glove,  com 
plaining  that  she  has  been  made  '  a  Puritan,'  ordering  Gunophilus 
to  bear  her  train,  or  alluding  to  'our  holy  herb  Nicotian,'  vol.  iii.  p.  67 : 
and  still  less  for  the  all  but  universal  habit  of  making  Latin  quotations, 
a  habit  shared  by  Greek  gods  (Bacchus  quotes  Ovid  in  Midas,  i.  i, 
vol.  iii.  p.  119)  and  by  servants  ancient  and  modern  (Criticus,  vol.  ii. 
p.  393,  quotes  Catullus  or  Phaedrus,  and  Gunophilus  shows  an  un 
expected  acquaintance  with  the  De  Officiis  of  Cicero,  vol.  iii.  p.  282). 
That  Lyly  reached  at  least  in  his  later  work  a  perception  of  the 
absurdity  is  evident  from  Motto's  ' fauente  dento '  and  Petulus' 
surprise  at  Latin  in  a  barber's  mouth,  as  also  from  Livia's  confession 
that  sheisnoLatinist,vol.  iii.  p.  i8i,and  Dromio's  mistake, p.  206.  But 
habit  was  too  strong ;  elsewhere  in  this  same  play  the  servants  bandy 
Latin  freely, and  Gunophilus,  later,  has  the  accomplishment  in  common 
with  his  primaeval  mistress.  The  mistake  '  Delphos '  for  '  Delphi,' 
borrowed  by  Shakespeare  in  Winter's  Tale  from  Greene's  Pandosto^  is 
perhaps  original  in  Midas,  v.  i  and  3,  vol.  iii.  pp.  152,  i$8\ 

Passing  to  the  much  more  important  question  of  the  action  of  (c}  The 
Lyly's  plays  and  the  degree  of  its  conformity  with  dramatic  require-  ^lot^Jea 
ments,  I  do  not  think  the  charge  of  want  of  action  can  be  brought  ing  of  the 
against  any  of  them  as  a  whole,  though  Campaspe  has  too  little ;  nor 
that  he  fails  in  the  matter  of  entanglement  and  solution,  in  that 
art  of  rousing  expectation  and  leading  us  on  to  an  issue  which  is 
the  most  potent  engine  of  dramatic  interest.     His  apology  in  the 
Epilogue  to  Sapho  for  having  brought  his  audience  out  of  a  maze  at 
the  point  at  which  they  entered  it,  shows  his  grasp  of  the  principle ; 
and  even  though  in  this  case  the  imperial  votaress  passes  on  un 
scathed,  yet  we  watch  for  the  outcome  of  Venus'  machinations,  and, 
in  the  other  plays,   of  Neptune's   wrath   and  Cupid's   designs,  of 

1  Most  of  these  instances  were  fiist  observed  by  Hense,  Shakespeare-Jahrbuch, 
vii.  261-3  (1872). 


272  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

Tellus'  plot,  of  Midas'  folly,  of  the  cross-intrigues  at  Rochester, 
of  Nature's  experiment  and  the  Planets'  hostility  thereto,  of  the 
opposition  between  Ceres  and  Erisichthon,  the  nymphs  and  their 
lovers,  with  an  interest  due  to  skill  of  presentment — skill  which  lends 
Lyly's  dramas,  for  me  at  least,  more  attraction  than  belongs  to 
more  highly-rated  work  by  some  of  his  successors.  Steinhauser's 
objection  to  three  of  them,  that  the  display  of  passion  by  Alexander, 
by  Sapho,  and  by  Gallathea  and  Phillida,  fails  to  lead  on  to  action, 
seems  to  me  a  little  to  misconceive  the  dramatic  problem.  In  the 
two  first  cases  the  problem  was  not  what  would  ensue  from  yielding 
to  passion,  but  whether  passion  or  reason  should  triumph ;  and  the 
victory  of  the  latter  provides  a  suitable  comic  issue,  as  that  of  the 
former  would  have  provided  a  tragic.  Nor  is  Alexander's  passion 
resultless,  since  it  leads  to  the  union  of  Campaspe  with  the  painter ; 
nor  yet  Sapho's,  since  it  leads  to  her  alienation  from,  and  dis 
comfiture  of,  her  rival  Venus.  Perhaps,  however,  Steinhauser  is 
right  in  requiring  that  Venus  shall  be  regarded  as  the  true  prota 
gonist.  His  objection  in  the  case  of  Gallathea  is  better  grounded ; 
yet  the  passion  of  the  two  girls  is  only  an  incident  arising  out  of 
their  disguise,  the  success  or  failure  of  the  attempt  to  evade  the 
sacrifice  being  the  main  concern.  It  may  be  conceded,  however, 
that  their  affection  lies  too  much  apart  from  the  plot  for  the  attention 
it  receives ;  and  that  love-making  is  made  more  productive  of  action 
in  the  two  other  pastorals,  The  Woman  and  Loves  Metamorphosis.  The 
earlier  plays  do,  no  doubt,  contain  some  elements  merely  episodical 
and  abortive,  among  which  may  be  reckoned  the  talk  between  Clitus 
and  Parmenio,  between  Pandion  and  Trachinus,  between  Sapho's 
ladies,  between  Sopbronia's,  between  the  shepherds  in  Midas,  and 
between  the  servants  and  pages  of  the  two  first  plays ;  none  of  which 
talk  can  be  said  to  serve  any  but  a  generally  illustrative  purpose,  and 
sometimes  not  even  that.  So  too  the  philosophers,  Plato,  Aristotle, 
and  the  rest,  have  no  connexion  with  the  action,  except  as  illustrating 
Alexander's  assumption  of  a  more  peaceful  attitude :  the  relations 
of  Diogenes  with  Alexander  or  others  cannot  be  said  to  have  any 
dramatic  issue :  Sybilla's  conferences  with  Phao  do  not  influence  his 
conduct  or  his  fortunes  one  whit :  nothing  follows  from  Vulcan's 
annoyance  with  Venus,  or  Mileta's  attempt  on  Phao  (iii.  4) :  while 
Tellus'  unmotived  deception  of  Corsites,  equally  barren  of  result  on 
the  main  action,  fails  also  of  its  own  proper  effect  of  estranging 
Corsites  from  her. 


HIS  GENERAL  PLAN  OF  A  CAST       273 

These  instances  show  that,  though  Lyly  had  from  the  first  some 
intelligence  of  the  means  for  securing  variety  and  interest,  it  was 
some  time  before  he  learned  their  proper  management.  His  pro-  Fixed 
cedure  by  conscious  method  and  plan,  as  also  the  persistence  in  his  '£ fame* an 
mind  of  a  conception  or  plan  once  formed,  is  shown  very  clearly  by  balancing 
the  striking  resemblance  in  the  character-scheme  of  all  his  plays.  0fsrouPs- 
In  all  we  have  groups  of  characters,  e.g.  in  Campaspe  of  warriors, 
philosophers,  and  pages;  in  Sapho  of  ladies,  two  courtiers,  two 
pages ;  in  Gallathea  two  parents,  two  daughters,  three  brothers,  four 
or  five  nymphs ;  in  Endimion  three  pages,  two  councillors,  two 
philosophers,  and  Tellus  and  Dipsas  working  for  the  estrangement 
of  Cynthia  and  Endimion,  as  Eumenides  and  Geron  are  working 
for  their  union ;  in  Midas  three  councillors,  three  pages,  a  group  of 
ladies,  a  group  of  shepherds  ;  in  Mother  Bombie  four  old  fathers,  four 
rascally  servants,  three  young  couples,  two  old  women,  three  fiddlers  ; 
in  The  Woman  three  allegorical  figures,  seven  planet-deities,  four 
shepherds ;  in  Loves  Metamorphosis  Cupid  against  Ceres,  three 
foresters  over  against  three  nymphs,  and  Protea  in  love  with  Petulius. 
In  the  two  latest  plays,  especially,  the  tendency  to  symmetrical  balance 
of  group  against  group  is  strongly  marked.  Then  almost  every  play 
contains  some  central  figure,  king,  queen,  or  goddess,  who  presides  by 
right  of  position  rather  than  of  superior  character  or  fuller  drawing, 
e.  g.  Alexander,  Sapho,  Diana,  Cynthia,  Midas,  Pandora,  Ceres ;  and 
some  other  figure  in  the  background,  sometimes  of  equal  authority, 
whom,  as  witch,  hermit,  or  oracle,  the  other  characters  consult, 
e.  g.  Diogenes,  Sybilla,  the  Augur,  Dipsas,  Bacchus  and  Apollo, 
Mother  Bombie,  Nature,  Cupid.  It  can  hardly  be  said  that  Lyly's 
scheme  includes  a  villain  as  a  recognized  ingredient  (Tellus  in 
Endimion^  Vicinia  in  Mother  Bombie,  and  Erisichthon  in  Loves  Meta 
morphosis^  are  the  nearest  instances  of  such) ;  nor  yet  a  Vice,  the 
comic  or  mischief-making  element  being  usually  distributed  among 
a  group  of  servants  or  pages,  and  concentrated  in  a  single  figure 
only  in  the  case  of  Gunophilus  in  The  Woman — one  of  the  links,  as 
Steinhauser  points  out,  which  connects  that  play  with  the  Moralities *. 
It  may  be  remarked  that  this  symmetry  of  construction  is  the  latest 
development  of  Lyly's  tendency  to  antithesis ;  but  that  he  had  some 

1  Resemblance  is  also  shown  in  the  reference  to  the  general  scheme  of  Nature, 
in  the  personification  of  the  abstractions,  Nature,  Concord,  and  Discord,  and  in 
the  embodiment  of  moral  qualities  in  the  Seven  Planets.  But  Steinhauser  is  in 
clined  to  exaggerate  the  likeness,  which  leads  him  to  overlook  the  many  arguments 
which  exist  for  a  late  date,  and  to  place  it  as  Lyly's  earliest. 


274 


LYLY   AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 


Advance  in 
plot-con 
st  rttct  ion. 


Campaspe. 


Sapho  and 
Phao. 


example  for  such  grouping  in  Damon  and  Pithias,  where  we  get  two 
friends,  two  flatterers,  two  pages,  and  Dionysius  in  authority. 

But  the  uniformity  in  the  materials  chosen  by  no  means  extends 
to  the  use  made  of  them.  Here  a  steady  advance  is  traceable 
throughout  his  work,  an  advance  which  tends  to  confirm  the  order 
I  assign  to  the  plays.  Under-plot,  absent  from  Campaspe  and  Sapho, 
appears  first  in  Gallathea,  after  which  (except  in  Midas)  greater 
complexity  is  always  apparent,  and  the  weaving  well  done.  Similarly 
the  comic  scenes,  though  inter-connected  even  in  Campaspe  and 
Sapho,  are  first  given  a  superficial  connexion  -with  the  main  action  in 
Gallathea,  a  much  closer  but  still  an  artificial  one  in  Endimion, 
a  real  and  organic  one  in  Midas,  and  lastly  a  fruitful  and  important 
one  in  Mother  Bombie  and  The  Woman.  A  few  words  on  each  play 
will  illustrate  this  advance  in  plot-construction. 

In  Campaspe  the  only  interests  beyond  that  of  Alexander,  Camp 
aspe,  and  Apelles,  round  which  are  grouped  Hephaestion,  Clitus, 
Parmenio,  and  Timoclea,  are  those  of  the  philosophers,  the  servants, 
the  Athenian  citizens,  and  Lais.  One  figure,  Diogenes,  is  chosen  to 
connect  these  scattered  units  by  entering  into  relations  with  each  of 
them  in  turn  ;  but  it  cannot  be  said  that  any  development  takes  place 
in  Diogenes,  or  that  anything  he  says  in  his  talk  with  Alexander  or 
any  of  the  others  has  any  effect  on  the  action  of  the  piece.  He 
serves  to  give  cohesion  to  the  character-scheme,  but  not  complexity 
to  the  action. 

In  Sapho  there  is  a  fuller  intrigue.  Venus,  dissatisfied  with  her 
home-life  in  the  dirty  forge,  seeks  adventures  and  resolves  to  subdue 
Sapho.  Her  gift  of  beauty  to  the  ferryman  Phao,  and  her  orders  to 
Cupid  to  wound  Sapho,  are  both  fatal  to  herself,  kindling  in  the  pair 
a  passion  which  is  the  rival  of  that  she  has  unwittingly  aroused  in  her 
own  breast ;  and  when  she  has  procured  new  weapons,  she  is  betrayed 
by  Cupid,  who  cures  Sapho  of  love,  but  fills  Phao  with  hatred  of 
Venus ;  so  that  her  enemy  triumphs,  and  so  far  from  yielding  to  her, 
has  detached  Cupid  from  her  side  and  aspires  to  rule  as  queen  of 
love.  This  is  cleverly  handled  as  a  piece  of  flattery — it  is  difficult 
to  believe  that  there  can  have  been  anything  nearly  so  good  before 
it ;  but  none  of  the  attempts  to  create  a  side-interest — Pandion's  dis 
content,  Sybilla's  counsels,  Mileta  wooing  Phao,  Vulcan  and  Venus 
at  home — are  brought  to  any  issue,  and  so  none  can  deserve  the  title 
of  an  under-plot,  though  from  Venus'  initial  grumblings  Lyly  seems 
to  have  intended  the  forge-life  to  serve  as  such.  The  comic  element 


CONNEXION   OF   THREADS         .  275 

of  Molus,  Criticus,  and  Calypho,  though,  like  that  in  Campaspe, 
possessing  the  merely  external  connexion  that  its  personages  are 
imagined  in  some  relation  with,  and  actually  speak  of,  those  of  the 
main  action — can  be  said  neither  to  grow  out  of  it,  nor  to  minister 
to  it,  nor  yet  to  contain  any  definite  action  within  itself. 

In  Gallathea  first  do  we  get  two  distinct,  yet  inter-connected  Gallathea: 
threads.  Neptune,  his  tribute  and  the  evasion  of  it,  constitute  the 
first,  incidental  to  which  are  the  loves  of  the  two  disguised  girls ; 
while  the  second  is  provided  in  the  defiance  of  Cupid  by  a  nymph 
of  Diana,  his  successful  war  upon  the  nymphs  in  revenge,  his  detec 
tion  by  Diana,  and  punishment  by  his  victims,  and  his  final  rescue 
by  Venus.  A  real  connexion  and  mutual  ministration  between  them 
is  supplied  by  the  fact  that  not  only  do  the  disguised  girls  fall  into 
the  hands  of  Diana's  nymphs,  but  form  the  means  employed  by 
Cupid  to  subject  the  nymphs  to  love,  while  it  is  in  order  to  procure 
the  remission  of  the  virgin-tribute  that  Diana  is  induced  to  release 
Cupid  at  the  close.  And  the  comic  element — boys,  mariner,  alche 
mist,  astrologer — is  both  more  important  and  better  managed  within 
itself  than  heretofore,  having  a  distinct  beginning,  development  (in 
which  it  receives  reinforcements),  and  end ;  while,  though  its  char 
acters  have  no  original  relation  with  those  of  the  serious  action,  yet 
they  have  obviously  been  shipwrecked  in  the  storm  raised  by  Neptune, 
and  at  the  close  are  brought  in  to  assist  at  the  wedding. 

In  Endimion,  though  perhaps  no  under-plot  can  be  said  distinctly  Etidimion. 
to  detach  itself  from  the  serious  action,  yet  the  interests  are  so  various 
that  the  same  impression  of  fullness  and  complexity  is  produced. 
Steinhauser  rightly  finds  the  protagonist  of  the  piece  in  Tellus,  whose 
plots  against  her  former  lover  Endimion,  their  success,  their  defeat, 
and  the  bringing  of  their  contriver  to  justice  form  the  stuff  of  the 
action,  to  which  all  other  elements,  save  the  comic,  are  directly 
subordinate.  After  discrediting  Endimion  with  his  adored  mistress 
Cynthia,  Tellus  procures  the  aid  of  Dipsas'  magic,  and  lulls  him  to 
a  forty  years'  sleep.  Eumenides,  by  sacrifice  of  his  love  for  Semele 
to  friendship,  wins  the  secret  of  his  deliverance ;  and  in  doing  so 
discovers  a  former  victim  of  Dipsas,  in  Geron  her  aged  husband, 
whose  return  to  Court  has  awaited  the  arrival  of  a  true  lover  and 
a  true  friend.  Besides  these  three  couples  and  the  issue  of  their 
affairs,  we  have  the  connected  passion  of  Corsites  for  Tellus,  with 
whom  he  is  eventually  paired ;  but  his  attempt  at  her  instigation  on 
the  sleeping  Endimion  is  a  blemish,  having  no  effect  whatever  upon 

T  2 


276  ^   LYLY   AS   A  PLAYWRIGHT 

the  plot,  and  merely  serving  to  introduce  the  fairy-ballet.  Lastly 
there  is  a  comic  element  with  a  story  of  its  own,  which,  though  it 
still  fails  to  minister  to  the  main  action,  yet  includes  some  minor 
characters  of  the  latter,  touches  it  through  Cynthia's  words  and 
action  at  the  close,  and  moreover  serves  as  parallel  and  parody  of  it. 
Sir  Tophas,  a  foolish  braggart,  who  at  first  exhibits  complete  indif 
ference  to  love  and  is  intent  on  triumphs  over  sheep  and  wrens  and 
fish,  is  seized  with  a  ridiculous  passion  for  the  crone  Dipsas,  which 
seems  to  hint  at  the  extravagance  of  Endimion's  for  Cynthia.  Tophas 
even  desires  to  slumber  like  Endimion  for  forty  or  fifty  years  (iv.  2. 
1 8):  like  Endimion,  he  dreams  of  his  mistress,  and  narrates  his 
dream  when  he  wakes  (iii.  3.  p.  46)  \  '  This  kind  of  by-plot/  says 
Steinhauser,  '  appears  first  in  English  Comedy  with  Lyly,  and  with 
Lyly  in  its  fullness  only  in  Endimion.  It  need  not  be  pointed  out 
that  such  a  by-plot  is  in  particular  accord  with  the  method  of 
Comedy,  and  affords  the  author  the  best  opportunity  for  fine  shading 
and  deepening,  if  he  understands  how  to  avail  himself  of  it.  It  can 
best  be  studied  in  Shakespeare.  To  say  that  Shakespeare  learnt 
this  art  entirely  from  Lyly's  Endimion  would  be  pronounced  an 
exaggeration ;  yet  there  is  undoubtedly  a  manifold  correspondence 
between  Endimion  and  Love's  Labour's  Lost  in  this  matter2.'  Lastly 
we  may  note  that  here  first  the  comic  element  is  enriched  by  a  femi 
nine  interest,  not  merely  in  Bagoa  but,  earlier,  in  Scintilla  and  Favilla. 
In  Midas  unity  of  action  suffers  by  the  duality  of  incident,  and 
the  second  of  the  two  incidents  is  not  necessarily,  only  accidentally, 
derived  from  the  first,  though  both  are  meant  to  illustrate  the  pingue 
mgenium  of  the  king.  The  groups  of  the  three  councillors  and 
Sophronia  with  her  ladies  supply  dialogue  rather  than  motive  to  the 
action ;  nor  can  there  properly  be  said  to  be  an  under-plot,  though 
a  slight  side-interest  is  created  by  Eristus'  unsuccessful  suit  of  Celia. 
The  true  under-plot  must  be  sought  once  more  in  the  comic  element, 
the  scenes  of  which  are  not  only  inter-connected  by  a  story  of  their 
own,  but  arise  for  the  first  time  definitely  out  of  the  main  action, 
though  they  still  fail  in  the  last  point  of  ministering  to  it.  Midas 

1  Cf.  iv.  2.  70  '  resolued  to  weep  some  three  or  foure  paylefuls,'  with  Eumenides 
in  iii.  4.  44,  73. 

2  John  Lyly  als  Dramatiker,  pp.  39,  40,  an  essay  which  first  suggested  to  me 
this  view  of  parallelism  and  parody  in  the  comic  action  of  Endimion.     The  chief 
points  of  connexion  between  Endimion  and  L.  L.  L.  would  be  the  four  couples  in 
each,  and  on  the  comic  side  the  magnificent  Armado  chaffed  by  his  page  Moth 
and  declining  on  Jaquenetta,  as  Sir  Tophas  is  chaffed  by  Epiton  and  subsides  on 
Bagoa. 


THE   FARCE   AT   LAST   INTRINSIC  277 

has  touched  his  own  beard ;  and  the  golden  spoil,  a  perquisite  of  his 
barber,  Motto,  has  been  stolen  by  one  of  the  Pages.  The  latter  is 
compelled  to  restore  it  in  order  to  procure  Motto's  aid  in  relieving 
his  toothache.  An  inventory  of  his  goods,  which  Motto  has  given 
them  as  a  means  of  redeeming  it  from  pawn,  turns  out  to  be  a  ficti 
tious  document ;  but  by  entrapping  the  barber,  who  has  observed 
Midas'  asses  ears,  into  a  treasonable  speech,  they  are  able  to  recover 
possession  of  the  beard  as  the  price  of  their  silence.  Here,  too, 
a  pretty  feminine  element  is  introduced  in  Celia's  maid,  Pipenetta ; 
and  the  Pages  are  occasionally  spoken,  or  alluded,  to  by  the  serious 
characters. 

In  Mother  Bombie  the  fusion  is  more  perfect  than  in  any  other  of  Mother 
the  plays.  It  represents  the  extreme  of  Lyly's  tendency  to  antithetic  Bombie- 
grouping ;  and  the  number  and  likeness  of  the  characters  produce 
an  intricate  plot  in  which  the  distinction  between  ideal  and  farcical 
elements  is  lost,  though  Maestius  and  Serena,  their  foster-mother 
Vicinia  and  Mother  Bombie  are  serious  throughout.  The  double 
scheme  to  match  the  half-witted  Accius  and  Silena,  its  defeat  and 
the  substitution  of  the  happier  match  of  Maestius  with  Serena,  form 
the  main  plot,  which  exchanges  mutual  obligations  of  advancement 
with  the  under-plot,  whose  subject  is  the  stolen  match  of  Candius 
and  Li  via.  It  may  be  objected,  however,  that  there  is  gross  improb 
ability  in  the  device  whereby  (iv.  2)  the  *  old  huddles '  are  deceived ; 
and  the  ramblings  of  sheer  idiocy  are,  as  noted  above,  painful  rather 
than  pleasing,  and  no  proper  subject  for  comic  treatment.  But  the 
play  is  managed  with  humour  and  spirit,  and  contains  some  good 
dramatic  situations,  e.  g.  the  informal  betrothal  of  Candius  and  Livia, 
overheard  and  interrupted  by  their  parents  (i.  3),  their  formal  troth- 
plight,  to  which  their  parents  are  unwittingly  made  parties  (iv.  i),  the 
wooing-scene  of  Accius  and  Silena  (iv.  2),  overlooking  the  improb 
ability,  where  their  own  deficiencies  and  their  parents'  trickery  are 
made  manifest,  and  the  visit  of  the  fiddlers  to  Sperantus'  and 
Memphio's  houses  in  v.  3.  Steinhauser  notes  that  the  child-chang 
ing  and  the  restoration  of  the  true  children  to  their  rightful  position 
are  of  Plautine  derivation  :  the  restoration,  at  least,  is  also  found  in 
the  Andria  of  Terence. 

The  scheme  of  The  Woman  (c.  1591-3)  was  one  difficult  of  execu-   The 

tion  :  and  there  is  force  in  the  criticism  that  it  robs  Pandora  of  in-   Woman  in 

the  Moone. 
dividuality,  since  she  becomes  the  mere  puppet  of  the  planet  that 

happens  to  be  in  the  ascendant.     The  lack  of  distinctive  traits  in 


278  LYLY   AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

the  shepherds  is  hardly  traceable  to  the  scheme ;  unless  they  too 
are  to  be  considered  as  subject  to  the  planetary  influence,  as  seems 
to  be  the  case  under  the  sway  of  Mars  (vol.  iii.  p.  254),  of  Apollo  (p.  259, 
where  Stesias  exhibits  a  ridiculous  sympathy  with  Pandora's  prophetic 
vein),  of  Venus  (pp.  262  sqq.),  which  converts  the  hitherto  respectful 
Gunophilus  into  a  lover,  and  of  Mercury  (pp.  271  sqq.),  which  turns 
them  all  into  intriguers.  Saturn,  Jupiter,  and  Luna  exercise  no  such 
wide  effect ;  and  perhaps  it  would  be  more  correct  to  say  that,  as 
regards  the  shepherds,  it  is  really  Venus  who  is  in  the  ascendant 
throughout,  though  love  prompts  them  to  different  actions  accord 
ing  as  Mars,  Venus,  or  Mercury  preside.  Again,  Luna's  crowning 
influence,  which  is  to  make  Pandora 

1  New-fangled,  fyckle,  slothful,  foolish,  mad,' 

seems  hardly  distinguishable  from  the  sum  of  those  already  exerted  ; 
though  the  results  are  certainly  different,  and  Lyly  has  written  for 
her  a  dialogue  at  once  lunatic  and  poetical.  It  should  perhaps  be 
noted  rather  as  a  point  of  character  that,  while  the  other  planets 
are  content  merely  to  influence  her,  Jupiter  and  Apollo  are  candi 
dates  for  her  love,  the  latter  exhibiting  the  higher  type  of  passion. 
All  the  seven,  however,  have  at  the  close  laid  aside  their  original 
envy  of  her,  and  unite  in  petitioning  Nature  to  place  her  in  their 
particular  sphere.  It  seems  uncertain  whether  these  varieties  in 
their  attitude,  and  in  their  several  effect  on  the  Utopians,  were  in 
tentional  on  the  author's  part,  or  mere  exigencies  into  which  he  was 
driven  by  the  inherent  difficulties  of  the  scheme.  Yet  the  action  as 
a  whole  remains  one.  The  experiment  of  Nature,  which  inflicts 
injury  upon  all  the  planets,  fails  owing  to  their  united  opposition  to 
it ;  and  this  failure  is  exhibited  by  a  series  of  events  among  the 
Utopians,  of  connected  interest  and  progress  as  a  human  story,  and 
yet  placed  in  skilful  and  fairly  consistent  relation  with  the  planetary 
contest  behind  it.  Finally  the  comic  element,  here  concentrated  in 
Gunophilus,  interpenetrates  every  portion  of  the  action ;  exhibiting 
indeed  less  wit  and  word-play  than  in  earlier  work,  but  a  far  greater 
proportion  of  genuine  humour,  so  that  Gunophilus,  in  his  rueful 
appreciation  of  his  own  mishaps,  forms  the  nearest  approach  in 
Lyly's  work  to  the  early  Shakespearean  clown,  a  type  to  which  he 
is  perhaps  indebted.  Altogether,  in  spite  of  some  defects,  I  am 
inclined  to  regard  The  Woman  as  the  cleverest  and  most  original 
of  Lyly's  plays :  it  certainly  possesses  the  largest  share  of  poetic 
beauty. 


MUTUAL   MINISTRATION   OF   PARTS  279 

The  general  relation  of  Loves  Metamorphosis  to  Gallathea  is  re-  Loves 
fleeted  in  its  composition,  which  is  of  two  separate  threads,  properly 
connected.  Erisichthon's  outrage  on  Ceres,  the  penalty  and  his  de 
liverance  from  it  through  the  agency  of  Protea,  form  the  main  plot ; 
while  the  under-plot  is  furnished  by  the  disdain  of  Ceres'  nymphs  for 
the  foresters,  their  punishment  and  final  restoration  on  condition  of 
submission  to  love.  The  connexion  between  the  two  consists  (i)  in 
the  fact  that  the  husbandman's  outrage  is  prompted  by  the  honours 
paid  to  Ceres  by  her  nymphs,  and  involves  the  death  of  another 
nymph,  which  outrage  and  death  they  report  to  the  goddess ;  (2)  in 
Cupid's  central  position  between  the  two  threads,  which  makes  him 
the  protector  of  Protea  in  the  one,  and  the  avenger  of  the  foresters 
in  the  other,  so  that  in  order  to  procure  from  him  the  release  of  her 
nymphs  Ceres  has  to  remit  her  punishment  of  famine  inflicted  on 
Erisichthon.  The  foresters  touch  Erisichthon  only  through  the 
nymphs,  though  Lyly  as  usual  supplies  the  external  connexion  of 
mere  words  (vol.  iii.  pp.  314,  320,  327,  332).  Both  plots  justify 
the  title ;  the  revengeful  transformation  which  Love  inflicts  upon  the 
nymphs  being  balanced  by  those  voluntarily  undergone  by  Protea 
on  behalf  of  her  father  and  her  lover  Petulius.  The  merciful  close 
is,  like  that  of  Midas  (cf.  Cynthia's  indulgence  to  Tellus),  a  departure 
from  Ovid's  account,  proper  to  a  comic  issue.  The  absence  of  a 
farcical  element  in  this  play  has  already  been  noted. 

The  reader,  who  examines  Lyly's  plays  in  the  light  of  the  foregoing 
suggestions,  will,  I  hope,  realize  how  important  was  the  advance  he 
effected  in  the  science  of  dramatic  architecture.  If  he  fails  in  his  earlier 
plays,  and  in  some  minor  respects  in  his  later,  it  is  because  the  stock 
of  available  example  is  so  poor  in  quality,  because  he  is  the  experi 
menter  whose  efforts  are  to  establish  rules  of  dramatic  practice  for 
the  guidance  of  his  successors.  That  Shakespeare  was  his  disciple 
in  this  respect  is  beyond  a  doubt.  To  the  fundamental  brain-work 
which  Lyly  put  into  his  plays,  the  greater  poet  and  the  Shakespearean 
stage  in  general  are  almost  as  much  indebted  as  they  are  to  his  intro 
duction  of  a  lively,  witty,  and  coherent  dialogue. 

4.    His  CHARACTERIZATION. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  he  cannot  claim  the  same  praise  on  the 
ground  of  character-drawing,  though  his  real  merits  in  this  depart 
ment  have  been  somewhat  obscured  by  the  even  uniformity  of  his 
style.  That  he  paid  attention  to  character  is  obvious  from  the  efforts, 


28o  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

detailed  below,  to  distinguish  members  of  a  group1.  I  note  here, 
generally,  his  employment  of  a  method,  not  the  most  artistic  but 
a  good  deal  used  by  Shakespeare  in  his  earlier  work — the  plan, 
I  mean,  of  putting  a  description  of  a  character  into  the  mouth  of 
some  other  character.  To  this  method  belong  the  remarks  of  the 
servants  upon  their  masters,  e.g.  on  Plato,  Diogenes,  and  Apelles 
(p.  321),  of  Calypho  on  Venus  and  Vulcan  (pp.  386,  394),  of  Epiton 
on  Sir  Tophas,  of  Peter  and  Raffe  on  the  Alchemist,  and  we  may  add 
Melippus  on  Diogenes  (p.  323),  the  shepherds  on  Midas  (iv.  2),  and 
Prisius  on  his  daughter  Li  via  (vol.  iii.  pp.  178-9).  The  method  is 
legitimate  enough  when  used,  as  Lyly  generally  uses  it,  with  a  comic 
as  well  as  a  characteristic  purpose,  or,  as  with  the  description  of 
Petruchio's  wedding,  to  convey  briefly  what  it  is  not  convenient  to 
represent.  It  is  useful,  too,  to  exhibit  the  light  in  which  a  character 
is  regarded  by  those  around  him,  especially  when  this  differs  in  some 
respects  from  that  in  which  the  author  intends  us  to  conceive  him,  as 
in  some  of  the  remarks  made  about  each  other  by  the  characters  in  The 
Merchant  of  Venice  :  and  it  is  particularly  skilful  when  such  description 
is  intended  chiefly  to  illustrate  the  character  of  the  describer,  as  when 
Caliban  talks  of  Prospero,  or  Falstaff  complains  of  Prince  John  that 
'a  man  cannot  make  him  laugh'  (2  Henry  IV,  iv.  3.  95).  It  is  in 
artistic  when  used  merely  to  summarize  the  traits  which  a  character 
actually  exhibits,  as  by  Shakespeare  several  times  in  Love's  Labour's 
Lost,  e.g.  the  King  on  Armado  (i.  i),  the  Princess's  ladies  on  the 
King's  three  lords  (ii.  i),  and  Biron  on  Boyet  (v.  2.  315  sqq.) 2.  Lyly, 
by  whose  work  the  habit  was  probably  suggested,  never  carried  it  to 
this  length,  perhaps  because  his  characterization  never  attempts  the 
fullness  of  detail  in  which  Shakespeare  delighted. 
His  render-  Speaking  generally,  he  is  more  successful  in  his  grasp  of  the 

?//,<•  of  class-  generai  features  of  classes  than    in   his  realization    of  individuals. 
character 
istics.  Where  he  introduces  a  single  representative  of  some  recognized  trade 

or  occupation  the  class-characteristics  are  well  rendered.  These 
popular  portraits  are  not  full-length  figures,  but  the  vignettes  are 
faithful  and  vigorous,  in  surprising  contrast  to  the  labelled  puppets 
which  formed  Lyly's  only  examples  in  preceding  work.  Petted  Lais 

1  My  later   study  shows   me   that  in  my  Quarterly  article,  Jan.  1896,  I  too 
summarily  dismissed  Lyly's  claims  as  a  limner  of  character,  just  as  I  all  but 
ignored  his  more  decisive  ones  as  a  constructor  of  plot. 

2  Ben  Jonson  is  only  a  degree  less  faulty  when  he  prefixes  to  Every  Man  Out  of 
His  Humour  an  elaborate  sketch  of  each  character  represented,  as  if  he  could  not 
trust  them  to  speak  for  themselves. 


VARIOUS   TYPES:    HIS   SERVANTS  281 

is  luxurious  and  insolent;  Calypho  the  smith  will  carry  by  round 
assertion  the  point  he  cannot  gain  by  logic;  the  Mariner  is  bluff, 
frank,  and  careless ;  the  Watchmen,  especially  their  Constable,  are 
obstinate  and  foolish ;  barber  Motto  may  be  a  shrewd,  clever  fellow, 
but  he  cannot  hold  his  tongue;  the  Huntsman,  self-important  and 
tetchy,  is  as  inflexible  a  pedant  in  his  craft  as  the  philosophers  in 
theirs ;  the  horsedealer  lets  out  broken-kneed  jades  and  is  ready 
with  his  claims  of  compensation  for  injury,  but  proves  the  easy 
victim  of  a  little  conviviality ;  and  the  fortune-teller,  a  very  favour 
able  portrait  for  the  date,  enunciates  her  doggrell  oracles  without  loss 
of  dignity  or  a  suspicion  of  their  inanity.  Perhaps  the  best  of  these 
figures  are  the  alchemist  and  astrologer  in  Gallathea,  who  are  not  the 
mere  impostors  of  Chaucer  or  Walter  Scott,  but  genuine  enthusiasts, 
nursing  their  dreams  amid  rags  and  poverty,  through  constant  failure 
and  mishap,  constrained  at  times  to  keep  an  incredulous  world  at 
bay  with  lying  excuses,  yet  simple  enough  to  fall  an  unsuspecting 
prey  to  the  theft  and  trickery  of  their  own  servants. 

And  looking  at  other  broad  divisions  we  find  a  sufficient  distinc-  Shepherds, 
tion  maintained  between  the  members  of  one  class  and  those  of 
another.  An  exception  should  be  made  in  regard  to  the  nymphs 
and  foresters  of  Loves  Metamorphosis,  who  talk  in  a  witty  and  courtly 
rather  than  a  pastoral  vein.  But  the  shepherds  of  Gallathea  are 
shrewd  realistic  rustics,  the  note  of  ideality  being  reserved  for  the 
two  girls ;  while  in  those  of  Midas  and  The  Woman  the  simplicity 
and  emotionalism  proper  to  pastoral  is  quite  adequately  preserved. 
Lyly's  deities,  again,  are  well  done ;  moving  among  mortals  with  deities, 
a  sufficient  irresponsibility,  and  exhibiting  the  passions,  imposed  on 
them  by  dramatic  necessity  and  by  the  myth  whence  they  are  taken, 
mainly  between  each  other.  Venus,  indeed,  is  brought  into  com 
petition  with  a  mortal ;  but  Sapho's  attitude  of  humility  changes  to 
defiance  only  when  she  has  seduced  a  deity  to  her  side :  in  other 
cases  gods  contend  with  gods,  or  wreak  on  men  a  wrath  from  which 
only  a  god  can  rescue  them.  And  individually  Venus,  Vulcan, 
Neptune,  Cupid,  Diana,  Ceres,  Pan  and  Apollo,  may  all  claim  to  be 
well  portrayed,  with  an  imagination  and  appropriateness  utterly 
wanting  to  preceding  sporadic  attempts  in  this  direction  (see 
above,  pp.  253-4). 

Lyly's  servants  form  a  class  of  recognized  merit,  which  appears  in  servants. 
every  play  except  the  last.   He  gives  us  the  perfect  picture  of  the  Court- 
page,  precocious  compound  of  mischief  and  swagger,  always  hatching 


282  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

some  profitable  scheme,  some  piece  of  gratuitous  impertinence,  some 
practical  joke  on  a  recognized  butt,  presuming  on  his  youth  and  the 
protection  of  an  indulgent  master  to  be  as  insolent  as  he  pleases  to 
those  not  of  the  Court — the  same,  precisely,  as  he  is  drawn  by  Nash 
a  little  later  in  his  novel  Jacke  Wilton.  All  these  pages  are  endowed 
with  high  spirits,  and  all  strain  after  wit  which  they  seldom  attain,  and 
still  more  rarely  the  native  humour  of  Launce  and  Launcelot, 
Gunophilus  always  excepted.  The  Court-pages  are  lacking  in 
distinction  amongst  themselves :  but  Manes,  who  is  intended  to 
reflect  the  character  of  Diogenes  his  master,  is  a  rougher,  simpler, 
older  creature  than  his  comrades  Psyllus  and  Granichus ;  Epiton  has 
a -brighter  wit  than  Dares  and  Samias;  and  Dello,  the  barber's  boy, 
is  distinguished  by  his  championship  of  his  master  against  the  wags  ]. 
In  several  cases,  e.g.  Molus  and  Criticus,  Lyly  follows  the  rule  of 
'  like  master,  like  man/  The  practice  of  embodying  the  nimblest 
wit,  or  at  least  the  greatest  impudence,  in  the  smallest  choir-boy  is 
exemplified  in  Epiton,  Halfpenny,  and  Minutius. 

His  And   lastly,    if,    considering   Lyly's    date   and   the   condition   of 

dramatic  art,  we  may  speak  of  his  women  merely  as  a  single  class, 
he  deserves  the  highest  praise  for  his  representation  of  them.  True, 
he  gives  us  for  the  most  part  only  their  outward  husk  of  wit  and 
raillery  and  flirtation.  It  is 

Woman  in  our  hours  of  ease, 
Uncertain,  coy,  and  hard  to  please, 

that  he  chiefly  paints ;  the  lepida  et  dicacula  puella,  woman  on  her 
social  and  superficial  side.  But  on  this  side — and  what  an  achieve 
ment ! — he  is  excellent;  as  much  at  home  in  their  foibles  and 
weaknesses  as  in  their  quips  and  pretences,  witness  Sybilla's  advice 
to  Phao,  pp.  390-1,  and  the  talk  of  Sapho's  ladies  passim.  These 
witty,  sprightly,  and  beneath  their  euphuism  so  natural,  girls  of 
Lyly's  drawing  are  the  examples  from  which  Shakespeare  derived  so 
much  of  that  power  to  paint  refined  women  which  is  generally 
accredited  to  his  divine  instinct.  To  Mileta,  Suavia,  Livia,  Nisa, 
and  Niobe,  the  mockers  and  skirmishers  of  Lyly's  ante-chamber  and 
woodland,  are  we  chiefly  indebted  for  Katharine,  Rosalind,  Beatrice, 
and  all  the  tiger-lilies,  larkspurs,  and  geraniums  of  Shakespeare's 
garden.  The  languorous  despairs  of  Sapho,  the  shy,  mutual 
approaches  of  Gallathea  and  Phillida,  the  little  pet  that  flames  up 
between  Scintilla  and  Favilla  and  is  quenched  in  a  shower  of  tears, 
1  Cf.  Jack  and  Will's  quarrel  on  the  same  account  in  Damon  and  Pit  hi  as. 


HE    DISCOVERS   WOMEN  283 

the  lament  of  Hsebe  condemned  to  death  as  the  most  beautiful,  the 
lament  of  Haebe  delivered  from  death  because  there  is  a  fairer  than 
she,  the  girls'  shrewd  perception  of  male  vanity  and  empty  manner, 
and  their  confession  to  each  other  of  their  own  weakness — all  these 
form  a  first  and  admirable,  if  only  a  one-sided,  delineation  of  the 
eternal  feminine  on  the  English  stage.  Lyly  is,  perhaps,  no  deep 
master  of  woman's  nature ;  he  lacks  reliable  card  and  compass  to 
guide  him  amid  these  'winds  and  waters.'  He  knows  little  of  the 
storms  and  hot  blasts  of  passion1,  little  of  the  still  clear  depths 
where  heaven's  face  is  mirrored.  A  gentle  breeze,  now  sportive, 
now  languid  and  heavy  with  roses ;  a  surface,  broken  into  a  thousand 
sparkling  ripples — this  is  his  general  representation  of  woman.  Yet, 
though  he  never  caught  as  fully  even  as  Greene  their  power  of 
tenderness  and  sweetness,  of  fidelity  and  self-sacrifice,  he  is  not 
without  indications  of  their  softer  side  and  what  Ruskin  called  their 
'  heavenly  timidity,'  in  Campaspe  as  contrasted  with  Timoclea,  in 
Eugenua,  in  Gallathea  and  Phillida,  in  Floscula  and  Bagoa ;  and 
looking  at  the  grave  strength  of  Sophronia,  the  brave  and  loving 
helpfulness  of  Protea,  I  cannot  help  thinking  that,  had  he  essayed 
tragedy,  Lyly  might  possibly  have  done  greater  things.  What  he  has 
done  is  great  enough,  and  perhaps  harder.  First  among  English 
writers  for  the  stage  did  he  master  a  knowledge  close  enough,  a  taste 
fine  enough,  a  hand  light  enough,  to  render  in  her  wonted  speech 
and  fashion  that  inconstant  gleam,  that  dancing  firefly,  the  English 
girl :  and  that  is  a  proud — it  is  his  proudest— achievement. 

No  doubt  some  distinctions  might  be  drawn  among  his  female 
figures,  but  they  would,  I  think,  mainly  resolve  themselves  into  one 
between  his  sober,  serious  women  and  his  witty  and  light-hearted 
ones.  Steinhauser  divides  them  into  prudes  opposed  even  to 
marriage,  like  Sapho,  Diana,  and  Cynthia,  and  those  who,  like 
Livia  and  Suavia,  'knowe  honest  loue  to  bee  a  thing  inseperable 
from  our  sex 2 ' :  but  there  are  other  varieties  of  attitude  on  the 
matter,  exemplified  by  Ceres,  hovering  between  jealousy  of  marriage 
and  exhortations  to  her  nymphs  to  submit  their  pride  to  Cupid,  by 
Mileta  with  her  direct  advances  to  Phao,  by  Protea  resolved  both  to 
reward  and  to  retain  her  lover's  affection,  by  the  inconstant  flirt 
Niobe,  and  by  Pipenetta,  whose  song  in  dispraise  of  virginity  may  be 
compared  with  Fidelia's  lament,  vol.  iii.  p.  305,  on  the  sufferings 

1  Tellus  must  be  mentioned  as  an  exception.  a  Midas,  iii.  3.  65. 


284 


LYLY   AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 


His  single 
figures. 


Some  dis 
tinction 
ittiveen 
members  of 
a  group. 


incurred  by  chastity.  Lyly  does  riot  fail,  however,  to  distinguish 
his  ladies  from  his  servant-girls ;  and  there  is  a  further  recognizable 
distinction  between  Rixula,  the  buttery-maid  of  Prisius'  household, 
and  the  '  pretie  mops '  Pipenetta,  who  dresses  Celia's  hair. 

If  we  turn  to  his  representation  of  single  figures  we  find  not  many 
of  them  to  possess  distinctness.  Apelles  and  Diogenes,  Venus  (in 
Saphd],  Tellus,  and  Sir  Tophas,  Midas,  Candius  and  the  old  men, 
and  Gunophilus,  are  the  most  alive;  and  of  these  perhaps  only 
Apelles,  Venus,  Tellus,  and  Midas  can  be  said  to  exhibit  develop 
ment  by  the  action.  Diogenes'  churlishness,  independence  and  tart 
replies  have  caused  him  to  be  singled  out ;  but  not  much  of  his  part 
is  original,  nor  is  he  allotted  any  action.  Apelles  is  better  in  his 
various  relations  with  the  king,  with  his  apprentice,  and  with  his 
beautiful  sitter,  and  in  his  gradual  exchange  of  urbanity  for  a  pained 
and  powerful  interest,  as  to  which  it  should  be  noted  that  the  tone  of 
his  charming  song  is  much  too  light  and  airy  for  the  point  of  passion 
he  has  reached  at  the  end  of  the  third  Act.  Venus,  in  Sapho, 
gracious,  wanton,  teasing,  amorous,  is  much  better  than  Venus 
feeling  the  pain  of  passion  or  the  sting  of  jealousy ;  she  is  best,  that 
is,  in  the  first  scene  with  Phao  and  in  the  scene  at  Vulcan's  forge. 
Tellus  is,  perhaps,  the  strongest  part  in  Lyly's  work— his  sole 
attempt,  indeed,  to  exhibit  stormy  passion ;  and  the  conversion  of 
her  love  to  jealous  hate,  the  woman's  sleights  she  practises  on 
Endimion  and  Corsites,  professing  that  a  woman  needs  such  weapons 
for  her  self-defence,  her  passionate  sense  of  the  rights  of  her  love 
even  against  Cynthia's  overshadowing  claims,  and  her  defence  of 
her  action  on  this  all-compelling  ground,  are  all  well  conceived. 
Sir  Tophas  as  a  burlesque  figure  is  also  of  importance,  and  constitutes 
with  Tellus  Lyly's  main  addition  to  our  dramatic  types.  Candius  is 
good  as  the  youthful  lover,  ready  of  tongue,  open  of  hand,  quick  of 
wit  to  seize  his  chance,  and  carrying  things  always  with  an  easy 
bonhomie-,  but  the  old  men  are  even  better,  were  they  only  more 
individualized. 

Yet  in  this  matter  of  distinction  between  the  various  members  of 
a  group  Lyly  is  not  so  faulty  as  he  at  first  appears.  There  are 
distinctions  between  these  old  men  :  Stellio  is  rich,  free  of  hand  and 
unsuspicious ;  Memphio  poor  and  hen-pecked ;  Prisius  has  an  eye 
to  his  business ;  Sperantus  aspires  to  be  mayor.  Examination 
reveals  minute  differences  among  Sapho's  and  Sophronia's  ladies, 
of  temperament  or  accomplishment :  Midas'  three  councillors  are 


HE   ESSAYS   DISTINCTIONS  285 

broadly  enough  distinguished  by  their  advocacy  of  wealth,  love,  or 
conquest,  while  to  Martius  is  added  a  well-marked  scepticism  (vol.  iii. 
pp.  128, 152, 158-9).  The  likeness  between  Gallathea  and  Phillida  is 
not  absolute.  Telusa  falls  in  love  with  the  latter  *  by  the  eyes,'  Eurota 
with  the  former  '  by  the  eares '  (p.  448),  and  the  distinction  is  borne 
out  by  the  slightly  more  vigorous  character  assigned  to  Gallathea, 
who  is  selected  to  speak  the  Epilogue,  and  who  at  first  finds 
a  dishonour  in  her  father's  plan  for  evading  the  sacrifice,  while 
Phillida  is  deterred  mainly  by  shyness  of  assuming  male  dress.  The 
three  nymphs  of  Loves  Metamorphosis  are  consistently  distinguished  ; 
Nisa  as  obdurate,  Celia  as  proud  of  her  beauty,  and  Niobe  as  fickle, 
characteristics  to  which  their  punishments  are  severally  calculated, 
vol.  iii.  pp.  302,  319-20  :  the  foresters  are  less  carefully  differentiated, 
but  still  distinction  is  attempted  (pp.  314,  317,  327).  Other  instances 
are  hinted  at  above ;  but  on  the  whole  Lyly's  characterization  halts 
behind  his  other  merits.  The  society  in  which  he  moved  was  courtly  ; 
and  the  tendency  of  all  society  conventionally  supposed  *  the  best ' 
is  the  suppression  of  individuality l.  A  general  propriety  of  outline 
without  distinctive  marks  inevitably  produces,  in  successive  works, 
the  sense  of  repetition.  An  exception  should  be  made  in  the  case  of 
Cupid,  who  appears  as  a  wanton,  mischievous  boy  in  Sapho\  as 
a  truant  still  in  Gallathea,  yet  as  a  god  with  power  and  will  to 
avenge  a  want  of  respect ;  and  in  Loves  Metamorphosis  as  an  awe- 
inspiring  deity,  whose  shrine  must  be  approached  with  humble 
offerings,  and  who  visits  with  dire  penalties  the  injuries  inflicted  on 
himself  and  his  loyal  worshippers.  The  relation,  too,  between 
Ceres  and  her  nymphs  is  varied  on  that  between  Diana  and  hers. 
But  ordinarily,  where  folk  appear  in  the  same  position — courtiers, 
court-ladies,  nymphs,  or  servants — the  figures  seem  the  same  as 
those  we  met  before;  and  in  the  relation  between  Protea  and 
Erisichthon  we  have  a  close  repetition  of  that  between  Sophronia 
and  Midas.  Shakespeare,  who  imitates  Lyly's  grouping  and,  like 
him,  repeats  a  relation  or  situation  in  successive  plays,  learns  to  avoid 
monotony  better  by  variety  of  portraiture  and  interaction  of  the 
different  members.  The  fortunes  and  characters  of  the  Two 
Gentlemen  are  distinct :  of  their  two  servants  one  represents  wit, 

1  '  Ebenso  wie  am  Hofe  ein  wenigstens  ausserlicher  Mangel  an  Charakter 
herrscht,  so  findet  sich  auch  unter  diesen  Gestalten  der  Lyly'schen  Dramen  nicht 
die  Mannigfaltigkeit  der  Charaktere,  welche  sich  bei  ihrer  grossen  Zahl  (liber  140) 
erwarten  liesse.'  Steinhauser,  p.  44. 


286  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

the  other  humour :  while  their  two  mistresses  differ  in  position  and 
character,  and  are  at  first  Unacquainted.  Adding  Gratiano  to 
Bassanio,  and  Nerissa  to  Portia,  he  takes  care  that  the  relation  be  not 
precisely  the  same ;  moreover  he  makes  Gratiano  aid  in  Jessica's 
elopement,  and  gives  him  distinction  in  his  open  mockery  of  all  that 
savours  of  Puritanism. 

5.  His  DIALOGUE  AND  USE  OF  PROSE  :  HIS  DICTION  AND  POETRY. 

It  is  doubtful  how  far  care  for  style  can  be  said  to  engender  a  care 
for  matter,  or  whether  they  should  not  rather  be  regarded  as  separate 
manifestations  of  the  critical  instinct,  which  may  indeed  occasionally 
be  combined  in  the  same  writer,  but  are  really  independent  of  one 
another.      In  an  age  like  our  own,  when  authors  read  at  least  as 
much  critical  as  original  work,  and  are  moreover  themselves  largely 
engaged  in  criticism,  the  preoccupation  with  style  is  certain  to  tell, 
and  has  told,  against  vigour  and  soundness   in  matter.     The  pre 
liminary  test  to   be  satisfied  by  any  writer,  not  a  novelist,  ere  he 
receives  his  passport  to  the  public,  is  rather  that  he  shall  be  in 
geniously  pretty  and  mannered,  than  that  what  he  says  shall  be  strong 
and  true,  wise  and  beautiful :   the  latter  qualities,  together  with  his 
architecture  and  all  that  does  not  lie  quite  on  the  surface,  being 
cheerfully  ignored  or  postponed  for  later  consideration.     But  in  an 
earlier   age   when  criticism    is    in   its   infancy,   in   such  an  age   as 
Lyly's,  the  same  selective  instinct  which  leads  a  writer  to  pick  and 
fastidiously  arrange  his  words,  rejecting  the  tame  and   slipshod  in 
expression,  will  also  influence  his  choice  of  matters  to  talk  about 
and  sentiments  to  express.     In  Lyly's  case  care  for  the  vehicle  went 
hand  in  hand  with  attention  to  its  freight.    The  praise  most  generally 
allotted  him  as  a  dramatist  has  been  that  he  adopted  prose  as  his 
regular  vehicle  for  comedy ;  and  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  vast 
improvement  he  effected   in   dramatic   dialogue  would  have  been 
impossible  without  this    step,  one  more  important  even  than  the 
nearly  concurrent  adoption  of  blank  verse.     In  the  years  before  Lyly 
not  verse  merely,  but  rhymed  verse,  had  been  the  all  but  universal 
dramatic  vehicle.     It  is   obvious   that,  with  the  great  majority  of 
writers,  to  impose  the  fetters  of  rhyme  was  to  ensure  the  presence, 
not  of  poetry  or  beauty  of  any  kind,  but  of  stiffness  and  crudity,  of 
slipshod  inversions,  of  a  want  of  ease,  grace,  and  nature.     A  partial 
recognition  of  this  is  seen  in  the  fact  that  for  some  years  before 
1580  prose  had  been  slowly  edging  its  way  into  the  plays  of  the  time, 


HIS   MERIT   IN   ADOPTING   PROSE  287 

especially  in  farcical  scenes.  It  is  used  exclusively  in  Gascoigne's 
translation  The  Supposes  of  1566,  and  in  the  rude  Famous  Victories  of 
Henry  the  fifth,  which  probably  preceded  Lyly's  work;  while  Gosson 
allots  high  praise  to  '  twoo  prose  Bookes  plaied  at  the  Belsauage ' 
before  1579.  But  no  surviving  play  of  the  time  affords  an  example 
of  its  successful  use.  The  absence  of  all  authority  in  dramatic 
matters,  and  the  haphazard  method  of  composition  pursued,  are 
admirably  illustrated  by  the  presence  even  in  Promos  and  Cassandra 
(1578)  of  so  many  contending  forms1.  Lyly's  keen  sense  of  form 
told  him  that  such  disordered  jumble  and  interchange  of  metre  was 
inadmissible ;  and  at  the  same  time  his  previous  achievements  in 
Euphues  showed  him  how  much  was  being  lost  in  the  bondage  to 
verse.  He  resolved  to  throw  the  whole  of  his  matter  into  prose, 
prose  which  he  made  now  serious  and  dignified,  now  bright  and  witty, 
but  such  as  always  gave  the  sense  of  selective  skill  and  controlling 
power.  He  asserted  his  freedom  from  mechanical  slavery,  but  only 
that  he  might  better  obey  the  higher  laws  of  dramatic  and  literary 
effect.  He  was  not  the  first  dramatist  to  use  prose ;  but  he  was  the 
first  to  demonstrate,  by  persistent  and  successful  use  of  it,  its  claim 
to  be  the  received  vehicle  for  English  comedy.  And  the  secret 
of  his  successful  use  of  it  lies  in  his  care  for  the  liveliness  and 
naturalness,  the  pith  and  vigour,  the  wit  and  humour,  of  the  things 
said;  in  his  recognition  of  the  truth,  the  imperfect  recognition  of 
which  weakens  so  much  of  the  later  Elizabethan  drama  and  retains 
most  of  his  predecessors'  work  at  a  level  of  hopeless  crudity — the 
truth  that,  just  as  the  action  of  the  stage  must  be  a  concentrated 
essence  of  real  life,  so  its  speech  must  likewise  be  intensified,  must 
be  infused  with  more  point  and  emphasis,  more  wisdom  and  earnest 
ness,  must  in  a  word  be  more  premeditated  than  common  talk  can 
ever  be,  if  it  is  to  enchain  attention  and  distract  us  from  the  real 
life  around  us  to  the  fictitious  life  of  the  stage.  Before  Shakespeare's 
advent  the  dawning  perception  of  this  had  sufficiently  embodied 
itself  in  our  drama,  in  the  '  high  astounding  terms '  of  Marlowe's 
tragedy  on  the  one  hand,  in  the  conceited  antithetic  dialogue  of 
Lyly's  comedy  on  the  other.  On  both  of  these  did  Shakespeare 
fasten ;  in  both  did  he  find  useful  training  during  his  earlier  work. 
But  while  the  influence  of  Marlowe  soon  passed  away,  the  prose  of 
Lyly  coloured  his  own  for  a  much  longer  period.  To  the  shrewd, 
sensible,  or  witty  talk  of  Lyly's  characters  we  must  look  as  the  chief 
1  See  above,  pp.  242,  238. 


288  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

exemplar  for  the  lifelike  and  admirable  dialogue  of  Shakespeare's 
ripest  work ;  for  the  talk  of  Hamlet  with  Rosencrantz  and  Guilden- 
stern,  or  of  Kent  with  Gloucester,  no  less  than  for  the  witty  skirmish 
ing  of  Rosalind  with  Orlando,  or  Benedick  with  Beatrice. 

It  will  readily  be  perceived  that  Euphuism,  the  characteristics  of 
which  have  been  amply  discussed  in  the  preceding  volume,  included 
much  that  might  be  turned  to  account  in  dramatic  dialogue.  Its 
antithetic  habit,  its  punning  and  point,  gave  exactly  that  heightened 
intensity  that  was  desirable.  Those  who  have  watched  in  our  own 
day  the  rapid  extension  of  the  cracker-and-popgun  style  of  talk  in 
society,  in  the  novel,  and  on  the  stage,  will  easily  understand  that 
the  Euphuist,  if  anybody,  was  the  man  to  popularize  prose  as  the 
dramatic  vehicle.  It  was  moreover,  as  Ulrici1  and  Steinhausei* 
have  pointed  out,  peculiarly  fitted,  by  its  rhythmical  and  rhetorical 
qualities,  to  compensate  for  the  loss  of  rhyme  and  metre :  even 
its  peculiar  methods  of  ornamentation,  its  elaborate  similes  and 
classical  allusions,  its  series  of  parallel  clauses,  points  which  we 
should  justly  consider  as  disqualifications,  may  have  shared  on  its 
introduction  something  of  this  compensatory  function.  But  it  is  the 
clearest  proof  of  the  correctness  of  Lyly's  instinct  at  the  outset,  and 
of  his  sensitiveness  to  the  impression  being  made,  that  even  in  his 
first  play  we  perceive  a  considerable  modification  of  the  style,  and 
that  this  modifying  process  went  on  steadily  to  the  end,  affording 
useful  confirmation,  as  does  his  advance  in  dramatic  structure,  of  the 
order  assigned  to  his  plays.  There  is  a  marked  excess,  for  instance, 
in  the  amount  of  simile  and  allusion  in  the  Prologues  and  Epilogues 
to  Campaspe  and  Sapho  over  the  amount  employed  in  the  actual 
dialogue.  In  the  former  play  the  allusions  are  almost  entirely  such 
as  personally  concern  the  characters,  i.  e.  to  Theban  or  Macedonian 
history,  the  life  of  Apelles,  or  the  tenets  of  the  philosophers  who 
appear.  In  the  other  plays  the  introduction  of  mythological  cha 
racters  justifies  an  increase  of  mythological  allusion ;  but  we  never 
find  such  in  the  mouths  of  the  townsfolk  of  Rochester,  except  a  little 
in  that  of  Livia,  who  is  Candius'  pupil,  and  Latin  quotations  in  those 
of  the  servants,  whom  their  masters  frankly  confess  to  be  cleverer 
than  themselves 2.  From  the  first,  too,  the  dialogue  in  Lyly's  farcical 
scenes  is  distinct  from  that  between  persons  of  more  consideration ; 

1  Shakespeare's  Dramatic  Art,  translated  by  L.  D.  Schmitz,  i.  88-9. 
8  Sperantus  says  of  Halfpenny,  *  Hee  learnde  his  leere  of  my  sonne,  his  young 
master,  whom  I  haue  brought  vp  at  Oxford.'     M.  Bomb.  ii.  5.  47. 


STRUCTURAL   EUPHUISM   DIMINISHES 


289 


it  is  brisk  and  sharp,  without  long  speeches,  too  much  antithesis,  or 
any  natural-history  similes  at  all :  while  in  the  talk  of  more  dignified 
characters  we  note  a  gradual  diminution  of  those  'mechanical 
devices '  of  the  style,  wherein  its  artificiality  chiefly  resides  \  Mr.  G. 
C.  Child,  who  has  elaborately  investigated  the  amount  of  euphuism 
in  the  plays,  furnishes  us2  with  the  following  table,  in  considering 
which  the  length  of  each  play  should  be  carefully  borne  in  mind, 
and  the  fact  that  much  of  the  text  of  Loves  Metamorphosis  is  probably 
part  of  an  earlier  version  produced  between  Endimion  and  Midas. 
I  have  reversed  only  his  order  for  Gallathea  and  Endimion,  in 
accordance  with  what  I  believe  to  be  the  later  date  of  the  latter ; 
and  I  have  added  a  column  for  the  Latin  quotations. 


Alliteration 

"« 

• 

, 

6, 

,  x  —  - 

•S 

« 

"Q  ^\ 

1 

! 

II 

'alanced 
equence 

1 

1 

msonana 

1 

I 

lassical 
Hustons 

ll 

^  g 

X 

^ 

^ 

«3«0 

EN 

^ 

U 

°N 

^ 

^^ 

^ 

S  "* 

CAMPASPE     . 

46 

70 

3 

26 

4 

6 

6 

2 

22' 

5 

ii  (all     in     first 

half). 

SAPHO     AND 

46 

65 

4 

15 

4 

8 

5 

6 

10 

22 

3    (all  in  comic 

PHAO 

scene,  iii.  2). 

GALLATHEA  . 

50 

42 

2 

ii 

2 

I5 

6 

i 

10 

8 

2    (in  v.  i,  from 

Lat.  Gr.)- 

ENDIMION    . 

61 

7° 

65 

12 

3 

16 

5 

i 

I 

6 

14  (confined  to  far 

cical  scenes). 

MIDAS      .     . 

46 

21 

o 

36 

2 

i 

i 

i 

6 

2 

23 

MOTHER  BOM- 

56 

19 

I 

i 

I 

3 

i 

i 

o 

0 

18 

BIE 

LOVES  META 

32 

28 

I 

2 

2 

9 

o 

o 

0 

2 

14  (no       farcical 

MORPHOSIS 

scenes). 

1  Compare,  too,  what  is  said  as  to  the  matter  of  the  dialogue  of  his  farcical  and 
his  other  characters,  on  pp.  246-7  and  250-1  above. 

2  Munchener  Beitrdge,  vii.  p.  99  (Erlangen  und  Leipzig,  1894). 

3  By  Annomination    Mr.  Child    means   consonantal  without  vowel  similarity, 
e.  g.  nature,  nurture ;  hopeless,  hapless ;  lover,  liver  :  by  Consonance,  an  identity 
in    both  vowels  and  consonants,  but  confined  to  some  part  or  parts  of  words, 
e.g.  immoderate,  immodest. 

4  Many  of  these  are  mere  snatches  from  the  Latin  grammar,  recollected  jokingly 
by  the  boys  in  the  comic  scenes  :   and  indeed  quotations  are  always  introduced 
with  a  comic  purpose,  except  when  A:istotle  quotes  himself  Camp.  i.  3,  and  those 
in  Midas,  Loves  Met.,  and  The  Woman,  which  has  14. 

5  All  in  one  place,  and  used  for  humorous  effect,  v.  2.  9-13. 

6  Two  of  them  not  pure  cases. 


290  LYLY   AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

The  table,  the  results  of  which  I  have  not  personally  verified, 
shows  a  gradual  decrease  in  particular  structural  habits  and  in  the 
natural-history  allusions  ;  but  account  should  also  be  taken  of  general 
effect  depending  partly  on  these  and  partly  on  matters  too  numerous 
and  minute  for  classification.  Like  Mr.  Child  I  trace  in  Endimion  the 
entry  of  a  more  smooth,  flowing,  and  varied  composition,  a  tendency 
to  discard  a  too  brief  and  balanced  precision.  It  is  perceptible  not 
only  in  the  ordinary  interchange  of  the  dialogue,  but  in  the  longer 
speeches,  where  euphuism  is  chiefly  to  be  looked  for,  since  they 
alone  give  full  scope  for  its  successions  and  parallelisms.  It  would, 
perhaps,  be  impossible  to  prove  a  progressive  diminution,  step  by 
step,  in  the  successive  plays ;  but  the  reader  will  find  it  instructive 
to  compare,  in  the  matter  of  flow  and  freedom,  the  speeches  of 
Hephaestion,  pp.  3  2  9-3 1 ,  of  Venus  and  Phao,  pp.  3  7  3-4, 4 1  o,  4 1 4,  of  the 
Augur  and  shepherds,  pp.  456-7,  of  Endimion,  vol.  iii.  pp.  31,  38,  of 
Fidelia,  p.  305,  of  Midas,  p.  144,  and  of  Prisius  and  Sperantus,  p.  182 
(the  last  being  the  most  distinctly  euphuistic  passage  in  the  play). 

The  increase  in  the  proportion  of  Latin  quotations  points  to 
a  continued  study  of  the  classics,  and  is  connected  with  the  con 
stancy  of  another  feature,  the  gnomic  element.  To  the  end  the 
plays  abound  in  pithy  vigorous  propositions  on  moral  and  social 
subjects ;  maxims  of  life  and  conduct,  borrowed  in  some  cases 
directly  from  the  classics  (seldom  from  Seneca),  in  others  such  as 
had  been  crystallized  in  some  English  proverb,  and  often  introduced 
by  some  such  phrase  as  '  It  is  an  old  said  saw,'  '  an  old  word,'  '  the 
old  verse,'  &c.  And  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  familiarity  with 
a  host  of  such  sayings  tended  to  give  pith  and  pertinence  to  the 
expression  of  his  original  reflections.  To  the  generally-recognized 
repartees  of  Diogenes,  I  add  an  instance  or  two  from  elsewhere. 

P.  340.  Apelles.  '  Alwayes  in  absolute  beauty  there  is  something 
aboue  art.' 

P.  378.  Criticus.  '  Where  we  mislike  for  some  perticular  grudge, 
there  we  pick  quarrels  for  a  generall  griefe.' 

Vol.  iii.  p.  36.  Scintilla.  '  Report  hath  beene  prodigal ;  for  shee  hath 
left  you  no  equall,  nor  her  selfe  credite.' 

P.  140.  Pan.  4A  Carter  with  his  whistle  and  his  whip  in  true  eare, 
mooues  as  much  as  Phoebus  with  his  fierie  chariot  and  winged  horses.' 

P.  282.  Gunophilus.  '  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.' 

P.  312.  Niobe.     '  The  onely  way  to  be  mad  is  to  bee  constant.' 


PERSISTENCE   IN   SET  SPEECHES  291 

Occasionally  Lyly  makes  his  antithetic  habit,  apt  to  grow  weari 
some  in  long  speeches,  contribute  to  the  vivacity  of  a  dialogue,  by 
distributing  the  different  members  between  two  interlocutors,  e.g.  in 
the  talk  between  Niobe  and  Silvestris  in  Loves  Metamorphosis,  iii.  i. 
Nor  are  there  lacking  speeches  of  wit  and  vigour  without  undue 
sententiousness.  Such  are  Sybilla's  advice  to  wooers,  pp.  390-1, 
Suavia's  tirade,  vol.  iii.  pp.  137-8,  Candius'  and  Livia's  remarks  on 
parental  authority,  p.  180,  and  Nisa's  exposure  of  poetic  fictions  about 
love,  p.  308  :  while  for  graceful  ease  and  naturalness  the  talk  of  Cam- 
paspe  and  Apelles  in  the  studio,  of  Phao  and  Mileta,  pp.  400-1,  be 
tween  Sapho's  ladies,  between  Cupid  and  Diana's  nymphs,  or  between 
Protea  and  the  merchant,  leaves  little  to  be  desired.  Scenes  and 
passages  like  these  impart  a  peculiar  air  of  modernity  to  Lyly's  work, 
and  are  certainly  surprising  when  we  remember  the  tedious  harangues 
of  Euphues.  And  it  is  not  the  least  of  his  merits  that,  beyond  a  very 
few  instances  in  the  farcical  portions  l,  the  plays  are  free  from  coarse 
ness.  Who  that  has  waded  through  the  earlier  volumes  of  Dodsley's 
collection  can  repress  a  sigh  of  relief  as  he  turns  to  Lyly's  bright  and 
lucid  scenes  from  the  dull  obscenities,  the  saddening  attempts  at  fun, 
the  slipshod,  incoherent,  pointless,  and  poverty-stricken  talk  of 
preceding  writers  ?  Who  does  not  feel  the  dialogue,  even  of  men 
like  Greene  and  Marlowe,  with  Lyly's  example  before  their  eyes,  poor 
or  stilted  by  the  side  of  these  nervous,  witty,  polished  sentences  ? 

The  long  speeches  and  soliloquies  continue  up  to  the  end,  though 
with  growing  modification  of  their  euphuistic  character,  and,  in  Mother 
Bombie  and  Loves  Metamorphosis  at  least,  of  their  length.  Their 
continuance,  as  also  their  free  imitation  by  Shakespeare,  is  due  to 
the  recognition  of  what  the  modern  playwright  and  manager  are  too 
much  inclined  to  neglect,  the  opportunity  they  afford  for  passion  and 
pathos.  These  were  gifts  denied,  as  already  said,  in  any  fullness  to  Lyly: 
his  heart,  perhaps,  was  always  too  worldly,  or  he  lacked  the  faculty 
of  isolating  himself  at  will  from  the  crowded  sphere  in  which  he  moved. 
But  at  least  he  can  recognize  and  attempt  them.  If  he  misses  in  the 
orations  of  Hephaestion,  pp.  329-31,  Apelles,  pp.  341-3,  Venus, p.  404, 
Phao,  p.  4 1 4 ;  yet  he  comes  near  in  Hsebe,  pp.  464-5  ,,m  Endimion,  vol .  iii. 
p.  38,  in  Midas,  pp.  129-31  ;  and  may  be  said  to  attain  in  Tellus,  p.  52, 
and  Fidelia,  p.  305,  as  he  had  in  the  case  of  Fidus  and  Iffida  in  Euphues. 

Such  occasions  afford  a  natural,  though  not  the  only,  opportunity 

1  E.g.  Callathea,  pp.  462-3;  Midas,  vol.  iii.  p.  120;  M.  Bomb.  p.  204. 

U  2 


•293  LYLY  AS  A  PLAYWRIGHT 

for  infusing  poetry  into  the  diction  ;  an  element  banished,  along  with 
blank  verse,  from  the  modern  stage  by  the  current  taboo  of  all  but 
smartness.  Mr.  Child  calls  attention  to  the  growth  of  this  element 
as  Lyly's  work  proceeds,  and  it  would  have  attracted  notice  sooner 
but  for  his  euphuism.  Absent  in  Campaspe,  it  appears  in  the 
dreams  of  Sapho,  Mileta,  and  Favilla,  pp.  405-7,  and  thereafter  in 
an  increased  metaphorical  and  imaginative  quality  in  matter  and 
phrasing.  Cupid's  discourses  of  love  in  Gallathea,  pp.  435,  458-9, 
469,  and  in  Loves  Metamorphosis,  ii.  2,  iv.  i,  are  markedly  poetical  and 
Petrarcan ;  and  there  is  poetry  in  the  imaginary  operations  of  the 
Alchemist,  silver  drops  made  of  smoke,  and  a  silver  steeple  of 
a  Spanish  needle,  the  turning  of  fire  to  gold,  the  wind  to  silver,  the 
sky  to  brass,  and  men's  thoughts  to  firm  metals;  as  also  in 
the  Astronomer's  boast,  p.  452  'When  I  list  I  can  sette  a  trap  for 
the  Sunne,  catch  the  Moone  with  lyme-twigges,  and  goe  a  bat 
fowling  for  starres.'  There  is  poetry  in  the  allegories  of  Sapho  and 
Midas  (in  the  latter  case  not  the  political  allegory  about  Lesbos,  but 
that  which  underlies  the  story  told  by  Ovid):  while  the  whole 
allegory  and  treatment  of  Endimion  is  strongly  poetical,  especially 
that  side  of  the  allegory  which  regards  Tellus  and  Cynthia  as 
embodiments  of  the  earthly  and  heavenly  beauty  respectively.  The 
spell  laid  upon  Endimion  and  the  contest  of  the  women  over  the 
unconscious  sleeper,  the  wanderings  of  Eumenides,  the  exile  of 
Geron,  the  magic  fountain,  its  troubling,  its  clearing,  and  its  mysterious 
message,  are  all  in  the  very  spirit  of  romance ;  and  the  fountain  is 
borrowed  in  Peele's  Old  Wives  Tale  and  Jonson's  Cynthids  Revels. 
There  is  poetry  too  in  Geron's  contrast  between  love  and  friendship, 
vol.  iii.  p.  50,  Endimion's  dream,  pp.  66-7,  and  Tellus'  self-exculpa 
tion  ;  as  also  in  the  following  : 

P.  23.  (of  the  waning  moon)  '  comming  out  of  thy  royall  robes,  where 
with  thou  dazelist  our  eyes,  downe  into  thy  swath  clowtes '. 

P.  33.  '  the  statelie  Cedar  whose  top  reacheth  vnto  the  clowdes  .  ,  .  get 
hold  of  the  beames  of  the  Sunne  '. 

P.  42.  '  there  is  no  sweeter  musicke  to  the  miserable  then  dispayre '. 

P.  42.  '  a  Captain,  who  should  sound  nothing  but  terrour,  and  suck 
nothing  but  blood '. 

P.  50.  grey  hairs  as  '  Embassadours  of  experience '. 

P.  56.  Epiton's  *  my  Pallace  is  pau'd  with  grasse,  and  tyled  with 
starres '. 

P.  70.  « Goe  to  the  Sexton,  and  tell  him  desire  is  deade,  and  will  him 
to  digge  his  graue '. 


POETIC   TINCTURE   OF  THE   PROSE  293 

In  Midas  the  poetic  phraseology  is  more  frequent  and  more 
daring : 

Vol.  iii.  p.  117.  *  King  Coin  hath  a  mint  to  stamp  gentlemen,  and  art  to 
make  amiableness '. 

P.  117.  *  loue  is  sweet,  and  the  marrowe  of  a  mans  minde '. 

P.  1 1 8.  '  Justice  her  selfe,  that  sitteth  wimpled  about  the  eyes,  doth 
it  not  because  shee  will  take  no  gold,  but  that  she  would  not  bee  scene 
blushing  when  she  takes  it '. 

P.  126.  'ambition  hath  but  two  steps,  the  lowest  bloud,  the  highest 
enuie '. 

P.  126.  '  digging  mines  of  gold  with  the  liues  of  men '. 

P.  126.  '  ambition  hath  one  heele  nayled  in  hell,  though  she  stretch  her 
finger  to  touch  the  heauens '. 

P.  130.  '  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  Gods  a  stewes  for 
strumpets '. 

P.  144.  '  report  flies  as  swift  as  thoghts,  gathering  wings  in  the  aire, 
&  dubling  rumors  by  her  owne  running '. 

P.  158.  'Tush!  Apollo  is  tuning  his  pipes,  or  at  barlybreake  with 
Daphne,  or  assaying  on  some  Shepheardes  coate,  or  taking  measure  of 
a  serpents  skinne '. 

Loves  Metamorphosis  does  not  exhibit  the  same  vigour  of  poetical 
imagery,  with  the  exception  of  the  Petrarcan  talk  about  love  and 
lovers  already  noted  :  but  it  was  probably  mainly  composed  just 
after  Endimion.  The  farcical  temper  of  Mother  Bombie  affords  little 
scope  for  it,  beyond  a  very  little  in  Livia's  part  (i.  3). 

In  formal  poetry  Lyly's  achievement  is  confined l  to  the  thirty-two 
songs  scattered  through  the  plays,  of^which  twenty-three  survive 2 ; 
the  blank  verse  of  The  Woman ;  and  a  couple  of  Latin  eulogies  of 
Elizabeth3.  Of  the  nine  missing  songs  'the  inchantment  forsleepe' 
mEnd.  ii.  3  is  most  to  be  regretted — an  accepted  theme  for  the  rivalry 
of  sonneteers  in  the  next  decade.  Of  those  preserved  I  do  not  claim 
much  merit  for  more  than  nine  or  ten  :  (i)  the  exquisite  '  Cupid  and 
my  Campaspe';  (2)  Trico's  song  on  bird-notes  in  the  same  play; 
(3)  the  drinking-song  in  Sapho,  p.  395;  (4)  Sapho's  on  love,  which 
reminds  us  of  the  closing  stanzas  of  Venus  and  Adonis ;  (5)  Apollo's  on 

1  I  find,  later,  that  this  list  requires  very  considerable  additions.  Cf.  Biograph. 
Appendix,  vol.  i.  pp.  377  sqq. 

3  See  above,  p.  264. 

3  The  '  louis  Elizabeth'  of  Euphues,  p.  216,  better  as  an  ingenious  invention 
than  as  Latin  verse;  and  the  seven  lines  prefixed  to  Lok's  Ecclesiastes.  See 
Life,  vol.  i.  p.  67. 


294  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

Daphne  in  Midas,  iv.  i  (and  perhaps  we  should  add  Pan's  on  Syrinx, 
for  it  is  quite  as  good,  the  ears  notwithstanding);  (6)  Pipenetta's 
on  maidenhood,  v.  2  ;  (7)  the  hymn  to  Apollo  at  the  close  of  the 
play ;  (8)  on  Cupid  in  Mother  Bombie,  iii.  3,  and  (9)  the  charming 
trio  of  Diana's  nymphs  in  Gallathea,  iv.  2.  A  tenth  or  eleventh, 
that  of  the  fairies  in  Endimion,  was  thought  worth  imitation  by 
Shakespeare  in  The  Merry  Wives.  The  remaining  dozen  are  poor 
enough,  duets  or  trios  between  saucy  pages  and  their  victims,  little 
more  than  metrical  dialogue  without  such  universal  application  as 
could  alone  confer  perennial  freshness.  Songs  like  these  were  not 
unknown  to  the  drama  before  Lyly  :  they  appear  in  Gammer  Gurton, 
in  Damon  and  Pithias,  in  Promos  and  Cassandra ;  but  in  none  of 
them  is  there  the  slightest  hint  of  the  lyric  grace  or  vigour  that  so 
conspicuously  marks  the  best  of  our  author.  In  this  wedding  of 
pure  poetry  with  drama,  he  is,  as  in  so  much  else,  the  first ;  or,  if  the 
uncertain  date  of  composition  of  The  Arraignment  of  Paris,  printed 
1584,  points  to  a  possible  exception  in  George  Peele,  Lyly  must  at 
least  claim  the  lion's  share  of  Nash's  praise  of  the  latter  as  primus 
verborum  artifex, 

And  in  what  is  practically  his  last  play  he  tries  his  hand  with 
conspicuous  success  at  the  blank  verse  which  had  now  become  the 
fashion.  His  lines  present  the  same  distinct  and  isolated  character 
as  those  of  Gorboduc,  the  Jocasta  of  Gascoigne  and  Kinwelmarsh, 
Hughes'  Misfortunes  of  Arthur,  and  even  of  Marlowe  himself:  they 
are  seldom  run  on,  but  they  do  exhibit  something  of  the  variety  of 
cadence,  some  of  those  deviations  from  the  normal  line,  the  credit 
of  which  is  generally  assigned  to  Marlowe,  who  was  the  first  to  adopt 
on  principle  improvements  which  his  predecessors  stumbled  on  occa 
sionally  by  chance.  I  have  counted  over  thirty  lines  in  the  play 
where  such  welcome  deviations  appear — a  few  examples  are  quoted 
under  'Date'  in  the  prolegomena  to  that  play — and  Lyly  sought 
further  variety  by  an  occasional  hemistich.  But  he  also  wrote  the 
line  fluently,  musically,  and  sometimes  with  beauty.  Without  deny 
ing  the  supreme  poetic  genius  which  enabled  Marlowe  to  fix  the 
blank  line  authoritatively  as  the  right  vehicle  for  the  rising  English 
drama,  I  think  that  the  regular  decasyllabics  of  Lyly  represent  a  con 
scious  metrical  skill  seldom  shown  by  the  greater  poet  for  many  lines 
in  succession.  Passages  like  the  following  exhibit  an  ear  for  musical 
variety  that  defies  and  overcomes  the  monotonous  tendency  of  the 
rules  by  which  it  chooses  to  be  bound  : — 


POETRY   OF   THE    WOMAN  295 

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, 

To  fetch  the  fethers  of  the  Arabian  bird, 

The  golden  apples  from  the  Hesperian  wood, 

Maremayde's  glasse,  Flora's  abbiliment, 

So  I  may  haue  Pandora  for  my  loue.     (iii.  2.  157-63.) 

Her  pretended  attempt  at  suicide  calls  forth  the  following  from 
another  shepherd : — 

Diuine  Pandora,  stay  thy  desperat  hand ! 

May  summers  lightning  burne  our  Autumne  crop, 

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,     (iv.  i.  189-94.) 

She  assigns  him,  and  another  shepherd  too,  a  meeting  : — 

Mel.  When  will  the  sun  go  downe  ?   flye,  Phcebus,  flye ! 

O,  that  thy  steeds  were  winged  with  my  swift  thoughts  : 
Now  shouldst  thou  fall  in  Thetis  azure  armes ; 
And  now  would  I  fall  in  Pandoraes  lap. 
Iph.  (apart}.     Wherefore  did  lupiter  create  the  day? 
Sweete  is  the  night  when  euery  creature  sleepes. 
Come  night,  come  gentle  night,  for  thee  I  stay.   (iv.  I.  248-54.) 

Finally  the  rival  shepherds  abjure  her : — 

The  springs  that  smild  to  see  Pandoraes  face, 
And  leapt  aboue  the  bankes  to  touch  her  lippes ; 
The  proud  playnes  dauncing  with  Pandoraes  weight ; 
The  iocund  trees  that  vald  when  she  came  neare, 
And  in  the  murmur  of  their  whispering  leaues, 
Did  seem  to  say  '  Pandora  is  our  Queene ! ' 
Witnesse  how  fayre  and  beautifull  she  was, 
But  now  alone  how  false  and  treacherous,     (v.  I.  161-8.) 

I  have  quoted  enough  to  show,  not  merely  that  Lyly  could  some 
times  write  blank  verse  of  capital  quality,  but  that  there  is  in  The 
Woman  in  the  Moone,  besides  this  metrical  sweetness,  a  poetic  fancy 
which  may  have  suggested  more  to  Shakespeare  than  the  description 
of  his  own  exquisite  fairy-tale  as  a  dream.  Lyly  and  Peele.  are  at  any 
rate  his  only  models  for  idyllic  grace,  and  that  power  of  fusing  lyric 
feeling  with  dramatic  work  which  he  shows  in  A  Midsummer  Nighfs 
Dream,  Romeo  and  Juliet^  and  As  You  Like  It;  and  of  his  close 
acquaintance  with  Lyly's  writings  there  is  abundant  proof. 


296  LYLY  AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

Following  Marlowe's  example  Lyly  had,  too,  the  sense  to  perceive, 
not  only  that  comic  matter  hardly  admits  of  verse,  but  that  its  effect 
may  be  greatly  enhanced  by  a  transition  to  prose,  the  vehicle  of 
common  sense.  Gunophilus  makes  the  transition  on  pp.  252,  262—3, 
265-8,  272,  278,  282-3  ;  though  elsewhere  he  speaks  in  verse  like  the 
other  characters. 

6.    WHAT  SHAKESPEARE  OWES  TO  LYLY. 

Let  me  close  this  essay  with  a  brief  statement  of  Shakespeare's 
obligations  to  Lyly's  plays,  apart  from  his  numerous  imitations  and 
reminiscences  of  Euphues  collected  in  the  former  essay.  First  of  all 
he  owes  him  very  much  for  the  example  of  intercourse  between 
refined  and  well-bred  folk,  conducted  with  ease,  grace,  and  natural 
ness  ;  and  especially  of  such  among  women,  and  of  the  flippant, 
tantalizing  treatment  of  their  lovers  by  women.  As  part  of  this  he 
is  his  debtor  for  the  example  of  a  prose-dialogue,  either  brisk  and 
witty  or  adorned  with  learning  and  fancy — a  dialogue  which,  if  it 
seem  heavy  to  a  far  from  impeccable  and  often  confessedly  vulgar 
modern  taste,  is  yet  as  near  the  best  talk  of  its  day  as  was  consistent 
with  the  literary  heightening  demanded  for  current  effect  and  per 
manent  vitality.  He  is  indebted  to  him,  further,  for  some  closer  percep 
tion  and  definition  of  the  various  provinces  and  styles  of  dramatic 
work,  for  the  example  of  how  they  might  be  fused  or  interchanged,  and 
for  the  introduction  of  humorous  servants  and  some  popular  types 
of  character.  Undoubtedly,  too,  Lyly  taught  him  something  in  the 
matter  of  unity  and  coherence  of  plot-construction,  in  the  introduc 
tion  of  songs  and  fairies,  in  the  infusion  of  that  '  breath  and  finer 
spirit '  of  romance  and  poetry  which  could  be  brought  to  their  full 
flower  only  by  one  of  larger  gifts  than  Lyly — of  fuller  insight,  of 
a  stricter,  sterner  grasp  of  truth,  of  a  diviner  tenderness  and  pity. 
And  in  proof  of  Shakespeare's  familiarity  with  his  work,  to  which 
Lyly's  far  more  conspicuous  position  when  Shakespeare  began  lends 
a  prima  facie  probability,  we  are  able  to  point  to  many  detailed  re 
semblances  which  cannot  be  held  accidental.  Among  those  given 
in  my  notes  are  the  following.  Richard's  dissatisfaction  with  effemi 
nate  peace,  Benedick's  ruminations  on  Claudio,  or  Enobarbus'  on 
Antony's  entanglement,  are  all  anticipated  in  Parmenio's  lament 
over  and  Hephaestion's  remonstrance  with  the  love-fettered  Alex 
ander.  Plato's  respect  for  the  supernatural  (pp.  3  2  3-4)  probably  suggests 
a  striking  utterance  by  Lafeu  (AWs  Well,  ii.  3.  i  sqq.) ;  while  Timon  and 


SHAKESPEARE'S   BORROWINGS  297 

Apemantus  recall  Alexander  and  Diogenes.  The  parody  of  logic  in 
Sapho  and  elsewhere  is  echoed  by  Olivia's  fool  and  Ophelia's  grave- 
digger  ;  and  Hamlet's  dissatisfaction  with  the  Court  after  the  Univer 
sity  is  known  also  to  Pandion,  as  it  was  to  Euphues  and  to  Guevara 
before  him.  The  scene  in  Gallathea  (iii.  i)  where  Diana's  nymphs, 
entering  one  by  one,  confess  their  broken  vow  and  agree  to  pursue 
their  passion,  has  often  been  quoted  as  the  original  of  that  between 
the  four  anchorites,  which  is  dramatically  the  best  in  Love's  Labour's 
Lost.  The  idea  of  disguising  girls  as  boys  and  of  complications 
resulting  therefrom,  which  Shakespeare  imitated  in  six  cases,  those 
of  Julia,  Portia,  Nerissa,  Rosalind,  Viola,  and  Imogen,  besides  La 
Pucelle  and  Perdita  (W.  T*  iv.  4,  663-72),  is  original  in  Lyly ;  and 
Viola  in  her  page's  dress,  half  absently  confessing 

I  am  all  the  daughters  of  my  father's  house. 
And  all  the  brothers  too, 

reminds  us  strongly  of  Phillida's  forgetfulness  in  a  similar  situation 
(iii.  2) — 'My  father  had  but  one  daughter,  and  therefore  I  could 
have  no  sister ' — while  Cupid's  conceited  prettiness  about  love  and 
lovers  is  the  original  of  much  that  is  said  in  the  same  vein  by  Romeo, 
if  not  by  Rosalind.  The  pretentious  Sir  Tophas,  the  ridicule  of  him 
by  the  pages,  and  his  pairing  with  Bagoa,  are  the  originals  of  the 
magnificent  Armado,  of  his  relation  with  Moth  and  his  declension 
upon  the  country-wench  Jaquenetta.  Falstaff  shares  both  Sir  Tophas' 
grossness  and  Corsites'  punishment  by  elvish  pinching,  and  some 
resemblance  to  the  Master  Constable  of  Endimion  is  traceable  in 
Dogberry.  The  feeling  of  Tellus  that  '  there  is  no  sweeter  Musicke 
to  the  miserable  then  dispayre'  (vol.  iii.  p.  42),  and  Geron's  estimation 
of  sorrow  as  his  chief  solace  (p.  47),  are  repeated  in  Richard  II,  Con 
stance,  and  Alonso.  Dares'  pun  on  '  grave '  and  ( gravity '  is  borrowed 
by  Mercutio  (iii.  i,  103).  Eumenides'  dread  of  an  excess  of  joy  in 
his  union  with  his  mistress  (pp.  49,  78)  is  still  more  appropriate  in  the 
self-controlled  Portia  (iii.  2.  in)  at  the  happy  moment  of  Bassanio's 
choice.  The  allegory  of  the  play  suggests  that  of  Oberon's  speech ; 
and  in  some  smaller  points  Shakespeare's  Dream  recalls  Endimion  or 
The  Woman.  An  ass-head  is  fitted  on  Bottom's  asinine  self-conceit 
as  asses'  ears  are  on  the  arrogant  Midas  :  in  the  Dream,  as  in  Endi 
mion,  fairies  make  sport  of  rude  simplicity,  and  lovers  sleeping  under 
enchantment  are  aroused  by  the  entry  of  a  courtly  train :  Puck  the 
clown  is  dispatched  for  a  flower,  Gunophilus  the  clown  for  herbs ; 


298  LYLY   AS   A   PLAYWRIGHT 

the  flower  is  misused,  the  herbs  ignored ;  later  '  Dian's  bud  '  is  called 
in  to  counteract  the  effects  of  Cupid's  flower,  just  as  lunary  is  sug 
gested  as  a  cure  for  the  harms  into  which  Corsites'  passion  has 
brought  him  (iv.  3.  131):  the  fable  of  the  Man  in  the  Moon,  ap 
pearing  in  The  Woman  (v.  3 1 1—9)  and  in  the  title  of  Endimion,  is 
introduced  again  by  Moonshine ;  and  Puck's  apology  for  the  play  as 
a  dream  is  borrowed  from  Lyly's  prologue  to  his  own  pastoral.  So, 
too,  the  bloody  napkin  which  figures  in  the  latter  is  brought  in  again 
by  Oliver  in  As  You  Like  It,  and  Melos'  impatience  for  sunset  re 
minds  us  of  Juliet's.  Licio,  cataloguing  his  mistress'  features  and 
properties  in  Midas  (i.  2),  gives  hints  to  Speed  in  The  Two  Gentle 
men  :  Mellacrites'  eulogy  of  gold  suggests  some  important  speeches 
in  the  mouth  of  Timon  of  Athens :  and  Midas'  reflection,  '  What 
should  I  doe  with  a  world  of  ground,  whose  body  must  be  content 
with  seauen  foot  of  earth?'  (iii.  i),  anticipated  by  Diogenes'  warning 
to  Alexander  in  Campaspe  (v.  4.  53),  is  echoed  in  a  later  con 
queror's  pensive  apostrophe  of  the  *  ill-weaved  ambition '  of  the  Percy. 
The  mad-scene  in  the  hovel  in  Lear  confers  immortality  on  the  half 
witted  Silena's  mistake  (Mother  Bombie,  iv.  2)  of  Accius  for  a  joint- 
stool.  Sperantus,  interrupting  the  troth-plight  of  Candius  and  Livia 
(i.  3.  155),  says  satirically  'God  give  you  joy,  Candius:  I  was  worth 
the  bidding  to  dinner,  though  not  worthy  to  be  of  the  counsell ' :  and 
Shakespeare,  using  the  same  dramatic  opposition  of  youthful  inclina 
tion  to  parental  wish  and  the  same  dramatic  interruption,  makes 

Polixenes  tell  Florizel 

Methinks  a  father 
Is  at  the  nuptial  of  his  son  a  guest 
That  best  becomes  the  table— 

and  urge  his  right  to  '  hold  some  counsel  in  such  a  business.'  The 
suppressed  wrath  of  Prisms' '  Soft,  Liuia,  take  me  with  you '  (vol.  iii. 
p.  181)  is  exactly  repeated  in  Capulet's  '  Soft !  take  me  with  you,'  in 
regard  to  Juliet's  opposition ;  and  the  denouement  of  the  play,  turning 
on  marks  of  the  person,  bears  some  resemblance  to  that  of  Cymbeline. 
The  three  Arcadian  couples  of  Loves  Metamorphosis  find  greater 
vitality  and  distinction  in  Arden  Forest  as  Audrey  and  William, 
Phoebe  and  Silvius,  Rosalind  and  Orlando ;  while  the  sprightly 
banter  of  Lorenzo  and  Jessica  need  not  wholly  disdain  Protea  and 
Petulius  (v.  2).  The  lark  who  claps  her  wings  at  heaven's  gates  in 
Trico's  song  in  Campaspe  mounts  thither  again  some  thirty  years 
later  to  forward  the  suit  of  Cloten  :  Apelles  learns  untaught  the 


QUI   NIL  MOLITUR   INEPTE  299 

lesson  the  Duke  gives  to  Valentine,  that  *  starres  are  to  be  looked 
at,  not  reached  at ' :  and  lastly,  the  complaint  of  Lyly's  prologue  that 
an  author,  like  a  torch,  consumes  himself  in  giving  light  to  others,  is 
answered  in  Measure  for  Measure  by  the  lines  which  declare  that 
such  is  the  divine  intention. 

And  now  I  must  leave  my  author  to  speak  for  himself.  I  do  so 
with  the  assurance  that,  if  these  volumes  should  induce  a  more 
thorough  study  of  him,  he  will  be  acknowledged  to  have  received 
hitherto  much  less  than  justice.  John  Lyly  is  far  from  being  merely 
the  high-priest  of  a  style :  he  is  the  introducer  of  much  besides 
that  is  of  first-rate  importance.  He  is  the  herald  of  an  epoch,  the 
master  of  the  king  :  the  first  to  establish  prose  in  comedy ;  the  first 
to  write  plays  at  once  cleanly  and  coherent,  bright  and  smooth ;  the 
first  to  present  to  us  on  the  stage  woman  in  all  her  charm  of  wit  and 
grace  and  laughter ;  the  first  to  utilize  and  insist  on  love-making  as  the 
grand  perennial  source  of  interest  in  fiction  and  drama  alike ;  the  first 
founder,  finally,  of  that  *  college  of  wit-crackers '  who  have  lightened 
for  Englishmen  the  weight  and  seriousness  of  life,  down  from  his 
days,  through  those  of  Congreve  and  Sheridan,  Fielding  and  Sterne, 
Hood  and  Praed  and  Sydney  Smith,  unto  our  own. 

Mille  habet  ornatus,  mille  decenter  habet. 

Blount,  who  published  the  Second  Folio  Shakespeare  in  the  same 
year  1632,  says  of  Lyly,  '  This  poet  sat  at  the  Sunne's  Table.  Apollo 
gave  him  a  wreath  of  his  owne  Bayes,  without  snatching.  The  Lyre 
he  played  on  had  no  borrowed  strings.'  This  is  partial  testimony, 
yet  has  much  of  truth.  Among  the  poets  of  that  mighty  time  we 
hail  in  John  Lyly  one  to  whose  lips  the  exultant  and  immortal 
draught  was  held,  indeed,  but  seldom ;  yet  one  perhaps  the  cleverest, 
with  the  possible  exception  of  Ben  the  most  learned,  and  in  spite  of 
that  the  most  modern,  of  them  all.  And  he  came  before  them  all : 
first  in  the  long  roll  of  Englishmen  who  have  brought  to  the  difficult 
task  of  the  Playwright  the  service  of  a  powerful  brain,  quickened, 
illuminated,  and  conducted  to  successful  issue  by  a  sense  of  art. 


NOTE   ON    THE   TREATMENT  ADOPTED 
IN    THE   TEXT   OF   THE   PLAYS 

THE  text  followed  in  the  Plays  is  that  of  the  earliest  quarto,  in  every  case 
except  that  of  Campaspe,  where  only  the  seco'nd  (though  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  modern  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,  my  own.  I  have 
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,  un- 
bracketed  and  in  italics,  the  original  spelling  being  always  retained.  Many,  even  for 
entry  and  exit,  were  omitted  in  the  old  editions  ;  some  carelessly,  some  as  inferable 
from  the  dialogue.  In  inserted  stage-directions  names  are  spelt  as  in  the  modern  list 
of  Dramatis  Personac,  to  which  the  prefixes  to  speeches  are  also  conformed,  any 
mistakes  of  the  quartos  being  noted. 

In  speeches  the  general  rule  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  transposed  stops  with  less  scruple 
than  in  the  Enphties,  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.  231-99  of 
this  volume. 

In  the  footnotes  italics  are  reserved  for  the  editor's  comment.  All  other 
explanations  given  on  p.  2  of  this  volume  are  applicable  also  to  the  footnotes  for 
the  Plays. 

Q.I  QQ  —  Quarto,  Quartos :  the  small  distinguishing  numbers  referring  to  the 

list  of  '  Editions  '  prefixed  to  each  play. 
Bl.  =  Blount's  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies  (1632). 
Dil.  =  C.  W.  Dilke's  Old  Plays,  vol.  i  or  ii  (1814). 
Dods.  =  all  three  editions  of  Dodsley's  Old  Plays:   (i)  1744,  (2)   1780  (ed. 

Reed;,  (3)  1825  (ed.  Collier). 
F.  --=  F.  W.  Fairholt's  edition  of  Lyly's  Plays  (Library  of  Old  Authors, 

2  vols.  1858). 

Kelt.  =  J.  S.  Keltic's  Works  of  the  British  Dramatists  (1870). 
S.D.  —  Stage-direction. 


CAMPASPE 


EDITIONS 

[The  original  entry  of  Campaspe  in  the  Stationers  Register  has  disappeared,  or 
was  perhaps  delayed.  Under  date  '  13  maij  1588'  are  entered  to  *  Thomas  Cad- 
man  Twoo  Copies  whereof  he  is  to  bringe  the  titles  .  .  .  xijd '  (Sta.  Reg.  Arb.  ii. 
490).  One  of  these  may  have  been  Campaspe ,  whose  title  was  changed  in  the  year 
of  its  first  publication.] 

Ql.  A  moste  excellent  Comedie  of  Alexander,  Campaspe,  and  Diogenes,  Played  beefore 
the  Queenes  Maiestie  on  twelfe  day  at  night  by  her  Maiesties  children,  and  the 
children  of  Poules.  Imprinted  at  London  for  Thomas  Cadman.  1584.  4to. 
Signatures  A  (4  leaves,  with  title  on  A  2),  A  (repeated)— F  in  fours.  (ffuth 
Library?) 

Q2.  Campaspe,  \  Played  beefore  the  \  Queenes  Maiestie  on  \  newyeares  day  at  night, 
by  her  \  Maiesties  Children,  and  the  \  Children  of  Paules.  \  ^  Imprinted  at 
London  \for  Thomas  Cadman.  \  1584.  4to.  Signatures  — ,  — ,  — ,  A3,  then 
A-E4  in  fours,  and  four  more  leaves  signed  G  mounted  from  the  1591  410. 
(Dyce  Collection,  S.  Kensington^} 

Qa.  Campaspe,  \  Played  beefore  the  \  Queenes  Maiestie  on  \  newyeares  day  at  night, 
by  |  her  Maiesties  Childre,  and  \  the  Children  of  Paules  \  H  Imprinted  at  London  \ 
for  Thomas  Cadman.  \  1584.  4to.  27  leaves.  Signatures  — ,  — ,  A  3,  then 
A-F4  in  fours.  No  colophon.  (Br.  Mus. :  Bodl.} 

Q4.  Campaspe  \  Played  beefore  the  \  Queenes  maiestie  on  twelfe  day  \  at  night,  by  her 
Maiesties  \  Children,  and  the  C1iil-\dren  of  Paiiles.  \  Imprinted  at  London  by 
Thomas  \  Orwin,for  William  Broome.  \  1591.  410.  27  leaves.  — ,  A  3,  — ,  then 
B-G  4  in  fours.  No  col.  {Brit.  Mus.  :  BodL :  Magd.  Coll.  Ox.  (wanting  first 
three  and  last  four  leaves)  :  Camb.  Univ.  Lib.  (wanting  title  and  last  eight 
leaves)  :  Trin.  Coll.  Camb.  :  Dyce  Coll.  S.  Kens.") 

[Cadman's  rights — he  published  from  1584  to  1589 — in  Campaspe  had  evidently 
lapsed,  but  no  transference  of  them  is  recorded  in  William  Broome's  lifetime.  The 
first  entry  in  the  Sta.  Reg.  that  certainly  concerns  the  play  is — '12  Aprilis  1597 
Jone  brome  widowe.  Entred  for  her  copies  in  full  courte  holden  this  Day  iiij 
bookes  :  called  the  Trewnes  of  Christian  religion,  Pandosto,  Sapho  and  Phao,  and 
Campaspe,  To  enioy  Duringe  her  widowe[hood]  or  that  she  shalbe  a  free  Stationers 
wife  of  this  companye  The  which  copies  were  Thomas  Cadmans  .  .  .  ijs '  (Sta. 
Reg.  Arb.  iii.  82). 

'  23°  Augusti  1601  George  potter.  Entred  for  his  copies  in  full  Court  holden 
this  Day  these  copies  folowinge  whiche  belonged  to  mystres  Brome  Lately  De 
ceased  .  .  .  vjs  viz.  Sapho  and  Phao  Campaspe  Endimion  Mydas  Galathea  '  and 
eight  other  works.  (Sta.  Reg.  Arb.  iii.  191.) 

'  9°  Januarij  i627[-8]  Master  Blount.  Entred  for  his  Copies  by  order  of  a  full 
Court  Sixe  playes  of  Peter  [John]  Lillyes  to  be  printed  in  one  volume  .  .  vjd 
viz*.  Campaste,  Sapho,  and  Phao.  Galathea  :  Endimion  Midas  and  Mother  Bomby.' 
(Sta.  Reg.  Arb.  iv.  192).] 

Fifth  ed.  Campaspe  Played  before  the  Queenes  Maiestie  on  Twelfe  day  at  Night :  By  her 
Blount.  Maiesties  Children,  and  the  Children  of  Paules.  London,  Printed  by  William 
Stansby,  for  Edward  Blount,  1632.  I2mo;  occupying  sigs.  G2-L  (in  twelves)  of  the 
Sixe  Covrt  Comedies.  (Br.  Mus.  (2  copies) :  Dyce  Collect.  S.  Kens. :  Bodl. :  Magd. 
Coll.  Oxf.  :  Ch.  Ch.  Oxf.  :  Qu.  Coll.  Oxf.  :  Trin.  Coll.  Camb.  (wanting  all  before 
L  2,  i.  e.  wanting  Endimion  and  Campaspe}  :  Advoc.  Libr.  Edinb.  :  Free  Libr. 
Birtn.} 

The  play  is  also  given  in  Dodsley's  Select  Collection  of  Old  Plays,  vol.  ii.  1744 ; 
in  the  second  ed.  of  that  work  with  notes  by  Reed,  1780;  in  the  third  ed.  with 
fresh  notes  by  J.  P.  Collier  and  O.  Gilchrist,  1825  ;  in  vol.  i  of  the  Ancient  British 
Drama,  1810;  in  Fairholt's  edition  of  Lyly's  Dramatic  Works,  vol.  i  (Library  of 
Old  Authors,  1858) ;  and  in  Keltic's  Works  of  the  British  Dramatists,  1870. 


CAMPASPE 

Argument.  —  Alexander  the  Great  falling  in  love  with  his  beautiful 
Theban  captive,  Campaspe,  gives  her  freedom,  and,  disregarding  the 
dissuasions  of  his  confidant  Hephaestion,  engages  Apelles  to  paint 
her  portrait.  A  mutual  passion  arises  between  the  painter  and  his 
sitter;  and,  the  portrait  finished,  Apelles  injures  it,  to  secure  fresh 
sittings.  When  he  finally  presents  it,  his  strange  demeanour  betrays 
his  secret  to  the  king,  who  magnanimously  resigns  Campaspe  to  him, 
and  resumes  the  warlike  schemes  he  has  for  a  while  forgotten. 
Variety  is  sought  in  the  intercourse  of  Alexander  with  famous 
philosophers,  especially  with  Diogenes  of  Sinope,  who  excites 
sustained  interest  by  his  tart  and  independent  replies  to  the  king, 
by  his  diatribe  against  the  Athenians  at  large,  and  by  his  witty 
encounters  with  various  individuals.  Among  these  Manes,  his 
servant,  with  two  others,  furnish  a  purely  farcical  element  on  the 
model  of  Terence,  except  that  it  is  quite  unconnected  with  the  plot. 

Text  and  Bibliography.  —  The  title  printed  above  as  that  of  Q1.  i584- 
Q1  is  taken  from  the  Catalogue  of  the  Huth  Library,  verified  and 
corrected  for  me  by  Mr.  A.  H.  Huth,  the  removal  of  whose  library 
into  the  country  has  prevented  him  from  allowing  me  an  opportunity 
of  inspecting  it.  No  other  copy  of  this  quarto  is  known  to  me, 
though  the  title  was  given,  inaccurately,  in  the  second  edition  of 
Dodsley's  Old  Plays,  1780  (vol.  ii.  ed.  Reed).  Reed  reports  only  one 
difference  of  reading  from  the  second  quarto,  '  Turkes '  for  '  Turkies ' 
i.  i.  12.  The  title  differs  from  those  of  QQ23  not  only  in  the 
additional  names  included  therein,  but  in  the  date  of  production  at 
Court — '  twelfe  day  at  night,'  instead  of '  newyeares  day  at  night,' 
a  point  in  which  it  is  followed  by  the  titles  of  Q4  and  Blount. 
Hazlitt,  quoting  the  title  of  Q1  in  his  Handbook,  1867,  wrongly  gives 
the  date  as  '  new  yeares  day.'  Nevertheless  I  believe  the  latter  was 
the  true  date,  wrongly  reported  by  Q1.  The  collation  reported  in 
the  Huth  Catalogue — '  A,  4  leaves,  with  title  on  A  2  ;  A  (repeated )— 
F  in  fours/  confirms  Hazlitt's  statement  that  Q1  has  28  leaves. 

The  text  followed  in  our  edition  is  that  of  the  second  quarto,  of  Q<l!-  X584- 
the  same  year  as  the  first.     The  only  copy  known  to  me  exists  in  the 


304  CAMPASPE 

Dyce  Collection  in  South  Kensington  Museum.  It  has  hitherto 
been  supposed  to  be  of  the  same  edition  as  the  copies  of  the  same 
date  in  the  British  Museum  and  the  Bodleian  Library;  but  its 
distinction  from  them  is  established  : — • 

(1)  by  three  minute  differences  on  the  title-page,  (a)  the  fourth 
line  ends  with  the  word  '  her ',  in  the  other  two  copies  with  '  by ', 
(b)  the  fifth   line  ends  with  'the',   in  the  other  two  copies  with 
'  and ',  (c)  the  Dyce  copy  prints  '  Maiesties  Children/  the  other  two 
print  '  Maiesties  Childre.' 

(2)  by  the  following  differences  in  the  position  of  the  signatures — • 

A  3  lies  under  e  egg  in  Dyce  (Q2),  and  under  e  eg  in  Bodi.  and  Br.  Mus.  (Q3). 
B  „  vvn  ,,  ,,  ,,  ,w  ,,  ,,  „ 

C  „          nd       ,,  „  ,,  ell      „          „  „ 

D  •)  ^  ))  5>  »  °°          »  M  >J 

E  j,          eSj       ,,  ,,  ,,          to      ,?          j,  „ 

(3)  by  the  differences  of  reading  recorded  in  the  footnotes,  which 
sufficiently  establish  the  Dyce  copy  as  of  an  earlier  edition. 

The  title-page  of  this  copy  is  followed  by  a  blank  leaf  unsigned 
(in  Q1  this  blank  leaf  precedes  the  title-page),  then  by  the  Prologue 
at  Court  on  the  recto  of  an  unsigned  leaf  whose  verso  is  blank,  then 
by  the  Prologue  at  Blackfriars  on  both  sides  of  a  leaf  signed  A  3,  and 
then  by  the  commencement  of  the  play  itself  on  the  first  leaf  of  sig.  A 
repeated.  Clearly  the  Blackfriars  Prologue  signed  A  3  should  have 
preceded  that  at  Court,  the  leaf  containing  the  latter  being  really  A  4, 
though  its  lack  of  signature  has  won  for  it  a  prior  position  at  the 
hands  of  the  binder,  as  also  in  Br.  Mus.  copies  of  Q3  and  Q4,  where 
the  disappearance  of  the  blank  leaf,  the  real  A  2,  made  the  mistake 
natural,  though  it  is  avoided  in  the  Dyce  copy  of  Q*.1  The  Black 
friars  Epilogue  precedes  that  at  Court ;  and  in  both  quartos  of  Sapho 
and  Phao  the  Blackfriars  Prologue  precedes,  being  printed  on  the 
recto  of  sig.  A  2,  while  the  Prologue  at  Court  occupies  the  verso.  The 
four  leaves  of  sig.  F  are  wanting,  being  replaced  by  the  corresponding 
four  leaves  of  sig.  G  from  a  copy  of  the  quarto  of  1591.  For  the  text 
of  these  four  leaves  I  have  followed  the  next  quarto  of  the  same  year, 
Q3  1584.  It  should  be  noted  that  the  running-title  of  this  and  the 
two  following  quartos,  as  also  of  the  play  as  given  in  Blount's  edition, 
is  'A  tragical  Comedie  of  Alexander  and  Campaspe' — the  only  case 
among  the  plays  where  the  running-title  of  the  old  eds.  differs  from 
that  on  the  title-page. 

1  Cf.-the  first  line  of  the  Prol.  at  Court,  and  note. 


INTRODUCTION  305 

The  third   quarto   differs  from   the   second   only  in   18   words,  Q5.  1584. 
of  which   9   are   trifling   emendations   or  corruptions   of  spelling, 
2    bad    corruptions,    5    needed     corrections,    and    2     indifferent 
changes. 

The  fourth  quarto,  which  prints  from  Q3,  has  16  needed  correc-    Q*.  1591. 
tions,  10  corruptions,  and  about  a  dozen  indifferent  changes,  mostly 
in  the  direction  of  modernization. 

Blount's  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies  (1632),  printing  in  this  as  in  the 
other  plays  from  the  latest  quarto,  repeats  all  its  corruptions  save 
one,  and  all  its  corrections  save  two ;  but  makes  20  corruptions  of 
its  own,  while  it  has  no  original  emendations. 

Dodsley  included  the  play  under  the  title  Alexander  and  Campaspe. 
A  Comedy,  in  his  Old  Play >s,  1744.  He  modernized  or  substituted 
some  words,  and  omitted  others,  with  the  songs ;  but  supplied  a  list 
of  the  dramatis  personae,  and  four  needed  stage-directions.  In  a 
second  edition,  1780,  Reed  generally  restored  the  reading  of  the 
quartos,  adding  the  songs,  four  more  stage-directions  and  some  good 
notes ;  but  there  remained  16  changes,  of  which  only  4  can  be  classed 
as  emendations:  and  the  third  edition,  1825,  to  which  Collier  and 
others  added  a  few  notes,  makes  further  omissions,  e.  g.  a  whole  line, 
iv.  4.  19—20.  The  reprint  of  the  play  in  the  Ancient  British  Drama, 
1810,  vol.  i,  simply  follows  Reed. 

Fairholt's  two- volume  edition,  1858,  the  only  form  in  which  all  the 
plays  have  hitherto  been  accessible  to  the  modern  reader,  follows 
Blount's  text  for  this  and  the  five  other  plays  included  in  the  Sixe  Covrt 
Comedies — a  most  unfortunate  choice,  by  which  Lyly's  reputation  with 
modern  scholars  must  have  suffered  very  considerably.  Blount  not 
only  printed  from  late  and  corrupted  quartos,  but  himself  added 
enormously  to  the  list  of  corruptions,  which  Fairholt  generally 
repeats,  though  he  corrects  a  few  by  the  earlier  quartos  in  his  notes 
at  the  end.  These  notes  are  often  very  useful :  but  they  make  no 
attempt  to  identify  the  classical  quotations  and  allusions  in  which 
the  plays  abound,  and  much  else  that  required  comment  is  passed 
over.  In  the  text  of  Campaspe  Fairholt  corrects  10  of  Blount's 
corruptions,  but  himself  corrupts  the  text  in  9  places,  while  he 
hesitates  to  insert  the  necessary  stage-directions,  even  when  already 
added  by  Dodsley. 

Keltic  (British  Dramatists,  1870)  prints  the  play  from  Fairholt, 
adding  a  few  brief  and  useful  notes,  and  indicating  one  or  two 
errors. 


306  CAMPASPE 

Authorship.  —  Lyly's  name  is  not  on  the  title-page  of  the  quartos ; 
but  the  style,  the  unusual  number  (about  30)  of  reminiscences  of 
Euphues  that  it  contains,  and  its  inclusion  by  Blount  in  the  Sixe 
Covrt  Comedies,  leave  no  doubt  as  to  the  authorship. 


Sources. — Warton  (History  of  English  Poetry,  Hi.  p.  342)  suggests 
that  the  play  might  originate  from  '  A  ballett  entituled  an  history  of 
Alexander  Campaspe  and  Appelles,  and  of  the  faythfull  fryndeshippe 
betweene  theym'  printed  for  Colwell  in  1565  and  entered  in  the 
Stationer?  Register  under  the  period  I565-I5661.  It  is  true,  as 
Warton  suggests,  that*  a  play  is  sometimes  described  in  the  Register 
as  a  '  ballett ' ;  and  Lyly  may  have  had  before  him  some  ruder  piece 
on  the  same  subject.  But  his  play  bears  throughout,  in  diction  and 
treatment,  the  special  mark  of  the  Euphuist ;  and  it  appears  extremely 
improbable  that  Lyly,  accustomed  to  draw  so  largely  on  a  wide  range 
of  classical  reading,  was  indebted  considerably,  if  at  all,  to  native 
sources.  His  chief  source  is  undoubtedly  the  passage  in  Pliny's 
Natural  History,  bk.  xxxv.  c.  10,  narrating  the  surrender  of  Campaspe 
by  Alexander  to  the  painter,  the  latter  part  of  which  was  indicated  as 
the  source  in  Reed's  notes  to  the  second  edition  of  Dodsley,  1780  : — 

'  Fuit  enim  et  comitas  illi,  propter  quam  gratior  Alexandra  Magno 
erat,  frequenter  in  officinam  ventitanti :  nam,  ut  diximus,  ab  alio 
pingi  se,  vetuerat  edicto.  Sed  et  in  officina  imperite  multa  disserenti 
silentium  comiter  suadebat,  "rideri  eum"  dicens  "a  pueris  qui 
colores  tererent "  [compare  the  dialogue,  Act  iii.  sc.  4.  60- 1 1 5  *]. 
Tantum  erat  auctoritati  juris  in  regem,  alioqui  iracundum :  quam- 
quam  Alexander  honorem  ei  clarissimo  perhibuit  exemplo.  Namque 
cum  dilectam  sibi  ex  pallacis  suis  prsecipue,  nomine  Campaspen, 
nudam  pingi  ob  admirationem  formae  ab  Apelle  jussisset,  eumque, 
dum  paret,  captum  amore  sensisset,  dono  earn  dedit :  magnus  animo, 
major  imperio  sui :  nee  minor  hoc  facto,  quam  victoria  aliqua. 
Quippe  se  vicit,  nee  torum  tantum  suum,  sed  etiam  affectum  donavit 
artifici :  ne  dilectae  quidem  respectu  motus,  ut  quae  modo  regis  fuisset, 
modo  pictoris  esset.  Sunt  qui  Venerem  Anadyomenen  illo  pictam 
exemplari  putant.' 

1  Several  other  '  balletts '  connected  with  Apelles  appear  in  the  Register  about 
the  same  time,  e.g.  'a  songe  of  Appelles  with  an  other  Dytty,'  a  'ballett  of 
Appelles  and  Pygmalyne  to  the  tune  of  the  fyrst  Appelles,'  &c. 

8  Aelian,  Var.  Hist.  ii.  2,  relates  the  story  of  Zeuxis  and  Megabyzus. 


INTRODUCTION  307 

One  or  two  other  details  about  Apelles  from  the  same  source  are 
referred  to  in  their  proper  places  in  the  notes.  Some  of  Pliny's 
stories  of  the  painter,  used  by  Lyly  here  or  in  Euphues,  had  already 
appeared  in  the  seventh  chapter  of  T.  Fortescue's  Foreste,  1571* 
As  noted  in  discussing  the  sources  for  Euphues,  there  is  no  English 
translation  of  Pliny  before  that  of  Philemon  Holland  (Lon.  1601, 
2  vols.  fol.). 

For  the  historical  matter,  the  relations  of  Alexander  with  Timoclea, 
Hephaestion,  Clitus,  Parmenio,  &c.,  Lyly  drew  on  Plutarch's  Life 
of  Alexander  in  North's  translation,  the  dedication  of  which  to 
Elizabeth  is  dated  'the  sixteene  day  of  January  1579,'  i.e.  1580. 
That  he  used  North  rather  than  the  original  is  clear  from  the  verbal 
identity  in  the  batch  of  questions  Alexander  puts  to  the  philosophers 
in  Act  i.  sc.  3.  81-98,  with  those  put  to  the  Gymnosophistae  in 
Plutarch's  sixty-fourth  chapter.  I  quote  this  passage,  with  that 
about  Timoclea  and  that  about  Diogenes,  relegating  one  or  two 
minor  points  to  their  proper  places  in  the  notes. 

4  Now  amongest  the  other  miseries  and  calamities  of  the  poore 
citie  of  Thebes,  there  were  certaine  Thracian  souldiers,  who  having 
spoyled  and  defaced  the  house  of  Timoclea,  a  vertuous  ladie  and  of 
noble  parentage,  they  devided  her  goods  among  them :  and  their 
captaine  having  ravished  her  by  force,  asked  her,  whether  she  had 
any  where  hidden  any  gold  or  silver.  The  ladie  told  him,  she  had. 
Then  leading  him  into  her  garden,  she  brought  him  unto  a  well : 
where  she  said  she  had  cast  all  her  juells  and  precious  things,  when 
she  heard  the  citie  was  taken.  The  barbarous  Thracian  stouped  to 
looke  into  the  well :  she  standing  behind  him,  thrust  him  in,  and 
then  threw  stones  enow  on  him,  and  so  killed  him.  The  souldiers 
when  they  knew  it,  tooke  and  bound  her,  and  so  caried  her  unto 
Alexander.  When  Alexander  saw  her  countenance,  and  marked  her 
gate  :  he  supposed  her  at  the  first  to  be  some  great  lady,  she  followed 
the  souldiers  with  such  a  majestic  and  boldnes.  Alexander  then 
asking  her  what  she  was  :  She  aunswered,  that  she  was  the  sister  of 
Theagenes,  who  fought  a  battell  with  King  Philip  before  the  citie 
of  Chaeronea,  where  being  generall  he  was  slaine,  valiantly  fighting 
for  the  defense  of  the  libertie  of  Graece.  Alexander  wondering  at 
her  noble  aunswere  and  couragious  deede,  commaunded  no  man 
shoud  touche  her  nor  her  children,  and  so  freely  let  her  goe  whether 
she  would.  He  made  league  also  with  the  Athenians,'  &c. 
(chap.  xii). 

X  2 


3o8  CAMPASPE 

*  Then  the  Grecians  having  assembled  a  generall  counsell  of  all 
the  states  of  Graece  within  the  straights  of  Peloponnesus :  there  it 
was  determined  that  they  would  make  warre  with  the  Persians. 
Whereupon  they  chose  Alexander  generall  for  all  Graece.  Then 
divers  men  comming  to  visite  Alexander,  aswell  philosophers,  as 
governors  of  states,  to  congratulate  with  him  for  his  election,  he 
looked  that  Diogenes  Sinopian  (who  dwelt  at  Corinth)  would  likewise 
come  as  the  rest  had  done  :  but  when  he  saw  he  made  no  reckoning 
of  him,  and  that  he  kept  still  in  the  suburbes  of  Corinthe,  at  a  place 
called  Cranium,  he  went  him  selfe  unto  him,  and  found  him  layed 
all  a  long  in  the  sunne.  When  Diogenes  saw  so  many  comming 
towardes  him,  he  sate  up  a  litle,  and  looked  full  apon  Alexander, 
Alexander  courteously  spake  unto  him,  and  asked  him,  if  he  lacked 
any  thinge.  Yea  said  he,  that  I  do :  that  thou  stand  out  of  my 
sunne  a  litle.  Alexander  was  so  well  pleased  with  this  aunswere, 
and  marvelled  so  much  at  the  great  boldnes  of  this  man,  to  se  how 
small  account  he  made  of  him :  that  when  he  went  his  way  from 
him,  Alexanders  familliers  laughing  at  Diogenes,  and  mocking  him, 
he  told  them :  Masters  say  what  you  lyst,  truely  if  I  were  not 
Alexander,  I  would  be  Diogenes '  (chap.  xiv). 

'  He  did  also  take  tenne  of  the  wise  men  of  the  contry,  which  men 
doe  all  go  naked,  and  therefore  are  called  Gymnosophistae,  (to  wit, 
Philosophers  of  India)  who  had  procured  Sabbas  to  rebell  against 
him,  and  had  done  great  hurt  unto  the  Macedonians.  And  bicause 
they  were  taken  to  be  the  sharpest  and  readiest  of  aunswer,  he  did 
put  them  (as  he  thought)  many  hard  questions,  and  told  them  he 
would  put  the  first  man  to  death,  that  aunswered  him  worst,  and  so 
the  rest  in  order :  and  made  the  eldest  amonge  them  ludge  of  their 
aunswers.  The  question  he  asked  the  first  man,  was  this  : 

1.  Whether  the  dead  or  the  living,  were  the  greater  number.     He 
aunswered,  the  living.     For  the  dead  sayd  he,  are  no  more  men. 

2.  The  second  man  he  asked  :  whether  the  earth,  or  the  sea  brought 
forth  most  creatures.     He  aunswered,  the  earth.     For  the  sea  sayd 
he,  is  but  a  part  of  the  earth. 

3.  To  the  third  man  :  which  of  all  beastes  was  the  subtillest.    That 
(sayd  he)  which  man  hetherto  never  knew. 

4.  To  the  fourth  :  why  did  he  make  Sabbas  rebell  ?     Bicause  sayd 
he,  he  should  live  honorably,  or  dye  vilely. 

5.  To  the  fift,  which  he  thought  was  first,  the  daye,  or  the  night  ? 
He  aunswered,  the  daye,  by  a  day.     The  kinge  finding  his  aunswer 


INTRODUCTION  309 

sf  raunge,  added  to  this  speech  :  Straunge  questions,  must  needes  have 
straunge  aunswers.. 

6.  Comming  to  the  sixt  man,  he  asked  him :  how  a  man  should 
Come  to  be  beloved  :  If  he  be  a  good  man  sayd  he,  not  terrible. 

7.  To  the  seventh,  how  a  man  should  be  a  god  ?     In  doing  a  thing, 
said  he,  impossible  for  a  man. 

8.  To  the  eight,  which  was  the  stronger:  life  or  death?     Life, 
said  he,  that  suffreth  so  many  troubles. 

9.  And  unto  the  ninth  and  last  man  :  how  long  a  man  should  live  ? 
Untill  sayd  he,  he  thinke  it  better  to  dye,  then  to  live. 

.  * In  fine  Alexander  did  let  them  go  with  rewardes ' 

(chap.  Ixiv). 

Plutarch  does  not  mention  Campaspe  at  all ;  nor  is  there  any 
further  allusion  in  the  Life  of  Alexander  to  Diogenes,  except  that 
Onesicritus  was  his  scholar.  We  must  look  for  the  materials  for 
Lyly's  Diogenes  chiefly  in  the  life  of  him  included  in  Diogenes 
Laertius'  Vitae  Philosophorum^  lib.  vi.  ch.  2.  There  was  no  English 
translation  of  this  author  before  1688.  The  Greek  text  was  published 
by  Frobenius  at  Basle,  1533,  and  again  with  a  Latin  translation  by 
H.  Stephens  at  Paris  in  1570.  That  Diogenes  Laertius  was  Lyly's 
source,  as  well  as  those  allusions  to  Diogenes  in  other  works  of 
Plutarch  which  we  have  traced  in  the  Euphues,  is  proved  by  the 
allusion  in  the  Prologue  at  Blackfriars  to  the  Myndians  and  their 
gates,  a  story  found,  so  far  as  I  know,  only  in  this  life  of  the 
philosopher  by  his  namesake,  vi.  2.  §  6  (57).  This  and  all  other 
passages  used  by  Lyly  are  quoted  in  the  notes. 

Date.  —  An  upward  limit  is  supplied  by  the  passage  (cf.  i.  3.  81-98) 
quoted  above  (pp.  308-9)  from  North's  Plutarch,  the  dedication 
of  which  to  Elizabeth  is  dated  January  16,  1579-80:  a  downward, 
by  the  play's  publication  in  1584.  The  very  large  number  of  echoes 
from  Ruphues — I  have  counted  thirty,  far  more  than  are  found  in 
any  other  play — suggests  that  this  was  his  next  labour  after  the 
completion  of  the  novel  in  the  spring  of  1580;  and  the  note  of 
modesty  and  hesitation  appropriate  to  a  first  dramatic  essay  is  more 
noticeable  in  the  Prologues  and  Epilogues  of  Campaspe  than  in  those 
of  Sapho  and  Phao.  The  title-pages  of  the  second  and  third  quartos 
(1584)  announce  the  play  as  given  before  the  Queen  'on  newyeares 
day  at  night  by  her  Maiesties  Children  and  the  Children  of  Paules ' ; 
while  the  fourth  quarto  (1591)  substitutes  'twelfe  day  at  night/  with 


3io  CAMPASPE 

which  the  title  of  the  original  edition  agrees.  Supposing,  as  is 
natural,  that  these  dates  refer  to  its  first  production  at  Court,  the 
earliest  date  that  can  be  fixed  for  such  is  Christmas,  1580-1581. 
Chalmers'  payment-lists  extracted  from  the  Council  Registers l  record 
the  payment  of  £10  on  January  30,  1580-1  to  the  master  of  the 
Children  of  Paul's  for  a  play  on  Twelfth  Day:  but  the  Revels 
Accounts 2  enable  us  to  identify  this  with  '  A  storie  of  Pompey, 
enacted  in  the  hall  on  twelfnighte '  in  that  year  by  *  the  Children  of 
Pawles ' :  while  the  '  Newe  yeres  daye  at  nyght '  of  the  same  Christmas 
1580-1  is  stated3  to  have  been  occupied  by  a  performance  of  *  The 
Earl  of  Derbies  men.'  The  next  period  dealt  with  in  the  Revels 

Accounts  is  'Betwene  the  daie  of 1581  ...  and  the  xiiij^ 

of  February  is82[-3]V  But  since  on  a  later  page  (p.  179)  the 
Master's  personal  expenses  and  fees  are  calculated  only  '  from  the 
laste  of  October  1582  untill  Ashewednesdaie,'  it  would  seem  that 
the  ( feates  of  Tumbling '  put  down  for  '  Newe  yeares  daie  at  night,' 
and  the  '  Maske  of  Ladies '  for  '  Twelf  Eve  night/  and  the  '  Historic 
of  Ferrar '  for  '  Twelfdaie  at  night ' 5  refer  solely  to  the  Christmas 
1582-3,  and  that  the  entries  for  the  Christmas  of  1581-2  are  lost. 
Returning  to  Chalmers'  payment-lists  we  find  the  entry 

1  iet  April  1582  Pd  the  master  of  the  children  of  the  Chapel  for  two 
plays  on  the  last  of  December  and  Shrove  Tuesday  20  marks,  And 
by  way  of  reward  20  nobles.' 

In  all  probability  these  two  plays  are  Campaspe  and  Sapho  and 
Phao.  The  title-page  of  the  latter  informs  us  it  was  given  on 
a  Shrove-Tuesday ;  the  difference  between  New  Year's  Eve  ('  the  last 
of  December ')  and  '  new  yeares  day '  of  the  Campaspe  title-page  may 
be  due  to  a  natural  mistake ;  and  the  title-pages  of  both  plays 
announce  them  as  given  by  the  Chapel  Children  in  conjunction  with 
the  Paul's  Boys.  Lyly  had  as  yet  no  regular  official  connexion  with 
the  latter.  If  he  received  anything  at  all  as  author,  it  would  be  from 
the  master  of  the  Chapel  Children,  to  whom  payment  for  the  joint 
efforts  of  the  two  companies  was  made. 

But  though  New  Year's  Eve  or  New  Year's  Day  of  Christmas 
1581-2  be  the  date  of  production  at  Court,  that  at  Blackfriars  was 
earlier,  as  is  clear  from  the  opening  of  the  Prologue  at  Court.  In 
the  Blackfriars'  Prologue  Lyly  excuses  his  play  on  the  ground  of 

1  Boswell's  Malones  Shakespeare ,  vol.  iii.  pp.  423-5. 

2  Cunningham,  p.  167.  3  Cunningham,  p.  167. 
4  Ibid.  pp.  167,  176,  186.  5  Ibid.  p.  177. 


INTRODUCTION  311 

f  haste  in  performing.'  We  may  perhaps  infer  that  it  was  composed 
in  the  latter  part  of  1580,  and  produced  somewhat  hurriedly  on  the 
popular  stage  in  the  hope  of  getting  it  accepted  by  the  Master  of 
the  Revels  for  the  Court-festivities  of  that  same  winter,  1580-1 ;  but 
that  time  was  lacking,  either  for  Tylney  to  give  it  proper  considera 
tion,  or  to  perfect  the  actors  or  complete  the  properties,  and  so  its 
appearance  at  Court  was  deferred  till  the  following  Christmas. 

It  is  worth  mention  that  in  Euphues  and  his  England,  p.  59, 
occurs  '  Appelles  (loued)  the  counterfeit  of  Campaspe/  a  statement, 
hardly  warranted  by  Pliny's  brief  account,  which,  if  not  a  reminiscence 
of  one  of  the  ballads  mentioned  under  Sources,  suggests  that  the  play 
was  already  in  1579  partly  written  or  planned.  The  number  of 
references  to  Apelles  and  the  Greek  painters  in  the  prefatory  matter 
of  Part  II  points  the  same  way,  particularly  the  excuse  alleged  p.  1 1 
for  the  delay  in  its  appearance,  that  Euphues  '  loytered,  tarying  many 
a  month  in  Italy  viewing  the  Ladyes  in  a  Painters  shop';  and, 
perhaps,  the  allusions  to  Apelles'  unfinished  Venus,  pp.  6,  59,  205  ; 
cf.  Camp.  ii.  2.  159-61.  (See  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  23.) 

Stage-history. — Genest  in  his  Account  of  tke  English  Stage,  1660- 
1830  (1832,  vol.  iii.  pp.  319—20),  notes  the  performance  at  Goodman's 
Fields  on  February  22  and  23,  1731,  of  a  piece  'never  acted  before, 
The  Cynick,  or  the  Force  of  Virtue  ...  no  doubt  an  alteration  of 
Alexander  and  Campaspe  written  by  Lilly,'  which  Genest  pro 
nounces  *  superior  to  the  generality  of  Lilly's  plays.'  He  gives  the 
cast  as  follows  :  Cynick  (Diogenes)  =  Huddy  :  Apelles  =  Giffard  : 
Manes  =  Morgan  :  Hephaestion  =  Havard  :  Parmenio  =  Beaumont : 
Melippus  =  Bullock  :  Campaspe  =  Mrs.  Giffard :  Lais  =  Miss  Smith : 
the  other  characters  omitted. 

Place  and  Time  in  the  Play.  —  Inasmuch  as  the  scene  is  laid 
throughout  in  Athens,  the  Unity  of  Place  may  be  said  to  be  strictly 
observed ;  but  it  is  vain  to  look  in  this  play  for  any  such  consistent 
view  of  the  stage,  as  representing  one  and  the  self-same  spot  through 
out  the  piece,  as  is  traceable  in  Gallathea  and  in  Mother  Bombie. 
No  economy  can  reduce  the  number  of  scenes  below  four.  fc  The  first 
must  be  placed  in  a  suburb  (i.  i.  21-2).  The  third  is  held  at  the 
palace,  as  is  clear  from  Diogenes'  remark,  ii.  2.  123,  which  shows  that 
its  locality  must  be  regarded  as  distinct  from  that  where  he  has  placed 
his  tub;  cf.  v.  4.  71.  From  Manes'  proclamation,  iii.  2.  54,  we  may 


3i2  CAMPASPE 

infer  that  the  tub  stands  in  the  market-place.  Apelles'  direction 
to  Psyllus  to  'stay  heere  at  the  window'  (iii.  i.  18),  while  he  and 
Campaspe  retire  into  the  studio,  necessitates  our  regarding  all  the 
scenes  at  his  house  as  taking  place  indoors,  in  a  hall  or  room  from 
which  the  studio  opens ;  and  the  distinction  between  the  localities 
of  the  tub  and  of  Apelles'  house  is  confirmed  by  the  long  absence 
of  the  Page  whom  Alexander  dispatches,  from  the  tub,  to  summon 
Apelles  (ii.  2.  117-154),  and  by  the  king's  reference,  in  a  scene  where 
he  has  just  been  conversing  at  the  tub,  to  his  presence  in  a  pre-' 
vious  scene  at  Apelles'  shop  (v.  4.  95).  These  evidences  entirely 
prevent  our  regarding  the  palace,  the  tub,  and  the  studio  as  embraced 
in  a  single  scene  which  remains  throughout  the  piece ;  and  compel 
us,  further,  to  recognize  in  Lyly's  earliest  play  four  at  least  of  those 
imaginary  scene-transfers  which  marked  the  pre-Shakespearean  stage. 
Thus  in  i.  3.  no,  which  commences  at  the  palace  (ii.  2.  122),  the 
philosophers,  when  Alexander  has  left  the  stage,  visit  Diogenes  at 
his  tub.  The  same  transition  to  the  tub  is  made  in  ii.  2.  119  and 
iii.  4.  45,  the  opening  of  both  scenes  being  laid  most  naturally  at 
the  palace;  while  the  latter  of  the  two  contains  (1.  57)  yet  another 
transition  from  the  tub  to  the  interior  of  Apelles'  house  (cf.  1.  114  and 
v.  4.  94-5).  Transition  from  the  palace  to  the  tub  is  possibly  to 
be  supposed  <also  in  v.  4.  37,  though  as  it  is  not  inevitable  here 
I  have  marked  the  locality  as  the  market-place.  In  the  first  three 
cases  the  transition  is  covered  by  the  characters  walking  to  and  fro 
upon  the  stage  as  they  converse.  Only  four  times  in  later  work 
does  Lyly  avail  himself  of  this  licence;  in  Endimion,  iv.  3.  44,  75, 
near  the  end  of  Act  iv  of  The  Woman  in  the  Moone,  vol.  iii.  p.  278, 
and  in  Acts  ii.  1.75,  iii.  157  of  Loves  Metamorphosis,  pp.  308,  314 : 
though  in  Sapho  and  Phao,  v.  i  (end),  Venus  and  Cupid  have 
evidently  walked  some  distance  from  Vulcan's  forge,  where  the 
scene  most  naturally  commences. 

Neither  in  this  nor  in  any  other  of  the  plays  save  Mother  Bombie 
and  The  Woman  in  the  Moone  is  the  Unity  of  Time  regarded. 
Though  some  of  the  scenes  are  continuous,  and  occasionally  an 
attempt  is  made  to  connect  those  of  one  Act  with  another  by  back- 
reference  (cf.  iii.  2.  13-4  with  ii.  i.  64-5),  yet  general  considera 
tions,  such  as  the  painting  of  the  portrait,  the  development  of 
Alexander's  and  Apelles'  passion,  and  the  exchange  of  the  martial 
for  the  luxurious  temper  which  Parmenio  laments  (iv.  3),  require  the 
lapse  of  a  considerable  interval. 


ted  at  London 

for  Thomas  Cadman, 


(DRAMATIS    PERSONAE 

ALEXANDER,  King  of  Macedon. 
HEPHAESTION,  his  General. 
CLITUS,       \ 
PARMENIO,  I 

MlLECTUS,    I 

PHRYGIUS,  J 

MELIPPUS,  Chamberlain  to  Alexander. 

PLATO, 

ARISTOTLE, 

DIOGENES, 

CHRYSIPPUS, 


CRATES, 


Philosophers. 


CLEANTHES, 

ANAXARCHUS, 

CRYSUS, 

APELLES,  a  Painter. 

SOLINUS,)    „ 

0  r  Citizens 

SYLVIUS,  J 

PERIM,  \  20 

MILO,    I  Sons  to  Sylvius. 

TRICO,  J 

GRANICHUS,  Servant  to  Plato. 

MANES,  Servant  to  Diogenes. 

PSYLLUS,  Apprentice  to  Apelles.  25 

Page  to  Alexander. 

Citizens  of  Athens. 

CAMPASPE, 

TlMOCLEA, 

LAIS,  a  Courtezan.  30 

SCENE — Athens.) 

i  DRAM.  PERS.  list  first  supplied  by  Dodsley  16  CRYSUS  om.  Dodsley 

35  PSYLLUS,  Apprentice,  &c.]  Servant,  &c.  Dods.  and  F. :  but  see  i.  2.  71,  ii.  i.  32 
3 1  SCENE — Athens  supplied  by  Dods. 


THE  PROLOGUE  AT  THE 
BLACK  FRYERS 

THEY  that  feare  the  stinging  of  waspes  make  fannes  of  peacockes 
tailes,  whose  spots  are  like  eies.  And  Lepidus,  which  coulde 
not  sleepe  for  the  chatting  of  birdes,  set  vp  a  beaste,  whose  head 
was  like  a  dragon :  and  we  which  stande  in  awe  of  reporte,  are 
5  compelled  to  sette  beefore  our  owle  Pallas  shield,  thinking  by  her 
vertue  to  couer  the  others  deformitie.  It  was  a  signe  of  famine  to 
Aegypte,  when  Nilus  flowed  lesse  then  twelue  Cubites,  or  more  then 
eighteene :  and  it  may  threaten  dispaire  vnto  vs,  if  we  be  lesse 

.     curious  then  you  looke  for,  or  more  combersome.     But  as  Theseus 

10  being  promised  to  be  brought  to  an  Eagles  neast,  and  trauailing  al 
the  day,  found  but  a  wrenne  in  a  hedg,  yet  said,  this  is  a  bird :  so 
we  hope,  if  the  shower  of  our  swelling  mountaine  seeme  to  bring 
foorth  some  Eliphant,  perfourme  but  a  mouse,  you  will  gently  say, 
this  is  a  beast.  Basill  softly  touched,  yeeldeth  a  sweete  sent,  but 

15  chafed  in  the  hand,  a  ranke  sauour.  Wee  feare  euen  so  that  our 
labours  slylye  glaunced  on,  will  breede  some  content,  but  examined 
to  the  proofe,  small  commendation.  The  haste  in  performing  shall 
bee  our  excuse.  There  went  two  nightes  to  the  begetting  of  Hercules. 
Feathers  appeare  not  on  the  Phoenix  vnder  seauen  monethes,  and  the 

20  mulbery  is  twelue  in  budding :  but  our  trauailes  are  like  the  Hares, 
who  at  one  time  bringeth  foorth,  nourisheth,  and  engendreth  againe ; 
or  like  the  broode  of  Trochilus,  whose  egges  in  the  same  moment 
that  they  are  layd,  become  birdes.  But  howsoeuer  we  finish  our 
worke,  we  craue  pardo,  if  we  offend  in  matter,  and  patience  if  we 

25  transgresse  in  manners.  We  haue  mixed  mirth  with  counsell,  and 
discipline  with  delight,  thinking  it  not  amisse  in  the  same  garden  to 
sowe  pot-hearbes,  that  we  set  flowers.  But  we  hope,  as  Harts  that 
cast  their  homes,  Snakes  their  skinnes,  Eagles  their  bils,  become 
more  fresh  for  any  other  labour  :  so  our  charge  being  shaken  of,  we 

30  shalbe  fitte  for  greater  matters.  But  least  like  the  Mindyans,  we 
make  our  gates  greater  then  our  towne,  and  that  our  play  runnes 
out  at  the  preface,  we  here  conclude :  wishing  that  although  there 
bee  in  your  precise  iudgementes  an  vniuersall  mislike,  yet  wee  maye 
enioy  by  your  woonted  courtisies  a  general  silece. 

2  who  1744  3  chatting  QQ*S:  chattng  Q4  BL  mods.  \  qy.  ?  chanting  9 
curious  QQZS  Dods.  :  curteous  Q*  Bl.  F.  Kelt.  12  shower]  shew  1744  seeme 
oldeds.  F.  Kelt. :  seeming  Dods.  16  slylye  all  old  and  mod.  eds.\  but  qy.  ?  slightly 


THE   PROLOGUE   AT   THE   COURT 

WEe  are  ashamed  that  our  birde  which  fluttered  by  twilight 
seeming  a  swan,  should  bee  proued  a  Batte  set  against  the 
sunne.  But  as  lupiter  placed  Silenus  Asse  among  the  starres,  and 
Alcebiades  couered  his  pictures  beeing  Owles  and  Apes,  with  a 
courtaine  embroidered  with  Lions  and  Eagles,  so  are  we  enforced  5 
vpon  a  rough  discource  to  drawe  on  a  smooth  excuse ;  resembling 
Lapidaries,  who  thinke  to  hide  the  crake  in  a  stone  by  setting  it 
deepe  in  golde.  The  Gods  supped  once  with  poore  Baucis,  the 
Persian  kings  sometimes  shaued  stickes  :  our  hope  is  your  heigh- 
nesse  wil  at  this  time  lend  an  eare  to  an  idle  pastime.  Appion  raising  10 
Homere  from  hell,  demanded  onely  who  was  his  father,  and  we 
calling  Alexander  from  his  graue,  seeke  onely  who  was  his  loue. 
Whatsoeuer  we  present,  we  wish  it  may  be  thought  the  daunsing  of 
Agrippa  his  shadowes,  who  in  the  moment  they  were  scene,  were 
of  any  shape  one  woulde  conceiue  :  or  Lynces,  who  hauing  a  quicke  15 
sight  to  discerne,  haue  a  short  memorie  to  forget.  With  vs  it  is  like 
to  fare,  as  with  these  torches,  which  giuing  light  to  others,  consume 
themselues  :  and  wee  shewing  delight  to  others,  shame  our  selues. 

i  fluttered  QQZS:  fluttereth  Q*  Bl.  mods.  2  swan]  swallow  Dods. 

1 7  these  om,  1 744 


CAMPASPE 


ACTUS   PRIMUS 

SCH^NA  PRIMA. — (Outside  the  walls  of  Athens.) 

CLYTUS,  PERMENIO,  TIMOCLEA,  CAMPASPE,  ALEXANDER, 
HEPHESTION. 

(Enter  CLITUS  and  PARMENIO.  ) 

Clitus.      ~T~)Armenio  I   cannot   tel  whether  I  should    more    com- 
JL          mend  in  Alexanders  victories,  courage,  or  curtesie,  in 

the  one  being  a  resolution  without  feare,  in  the  other  a  liberality 

aboue  custome :    Thebes  is  rased,  the   people  not  racked,  towers 
5  throwne  down,  bodies  not  thrust  aside,  a  conquest  without  conflict, 

and  a  cruell  warre  in  a  milde  peace. 

Par.    Cfytus,  it  becommeth  the  sonne  of  Phillip  to  be  none  other 

then  Alexander  is  :  therfore  seeing  in  the  father  a  ful  perfection,  who 

could  haue  doubted  in  the  son  an  excellencie  ?     For  as  the  moone 
10  can  borrow  nothing  els  of  the  sunne  but  light,  so  of  a  sire,  in  whome 

nothing  but  vertue  was,  what  coulde  the  childe  receiue  but  singular  ? 

it  is  for  Turkies  to  staine  each  other,  not  for  Diamondes  ;  in  the  one 

to  bee  made  a  difference  in  goodnes,  in  the  other  no  comparison. 

Clitus.    You  mistake  mee  Parmenio,  if  whilest  I  commend  Alex- 
15  ander,  you  imagine  I  call  Phillip  into  question ;   vnlesse  happely 

you  coniecture  (which  none  of  iudgment  will  conceiue)  that  because 

I  like  the  fruit,  therefore  I  heaue  at  the  tree,  or  coueting  to  kisse  the 

child,  I  therfore  go  about  to  poyson  the  teat. 

Par.    I  but   Cfytus,  I  perceiue  you  are  borne  in  the  East,  and 
20  neuer  laugh  but  at  the  sunne  rising,  which  argueth  though  a  duetie 

where  you  ought,  yet  no  great  deuotion  where  you  might. 

ACTUS  PRIMUS  .  .  .  Athens]  The  division  into  Acts  and  Scenes  is  that  of  the 
second  and  all  succeeding"  editions.  The  localities  of  the  several  scenes  are  first 
marked  in  this  4  rased  Q*  Dods. :  raysed  QQ2  3  :  razed  Bl.  F.  Kelt.  5 

thurst  <23  12  Turkies  QQ2S4  Bl.  (cf.  p.  404  /.  14) :   turquois  Dods.  :  Reed 

reports  Turkesy^wTz  the  earliest  quarto         15  happely  QQ  :  happily  Bl.  F.  Kelt. : 
haply  Dods.  20  sun-rising  Dods.  21  where2]  were  Q* 


318  CAMPASPE  [ACT  i 

Clitus.  We  will  make  no  controuersie  of  that  which  there  ought 
to  be  no  question ;  onely  this  shal  be  the  opinion  of  vs  both,  that 
none  was  worthy  to  be  the  father  of  Alexander  but  Phillip,  nor  any 
meete  to  bee  the  sonne  of  Phillip  but  Alexander.  25 

Par.  Soft  Clytus,  behold  the  spoiles  &  prisoners  !  a  pleasaunt 
sight  to  vs,  because  profit  is  ioyned  with  honour ;  not  much  paineful 
to  them,  because  their  captiuitie  is  eased  by  mercy. 

(  Enter  TIMOCLEA,  CAMPASPE,  with  other  captives,  and  spoils, 
guarded. ) 

Timo.  Fortune,  thou  didst  neuer  yet  deceiue  vertue,  because 
vertue  neuer  yet  did  trust  fortune.  Sworde  and  fire  will  neuer  get  30 
spoyle,  where  wisdome  and  fortitude  beares  sway.  O  Thebes,  thy 
walles  were  raysed  by  the  sweetnesse  of  the  harpe,  but  raced  by  the 
shrilnes  of  the  trumpet.  Alexander  had  neuer  come  so  neere  the 
wals,  had  Epaminondas  walkt  about  the  walles ;  and  yet  might 
the  Thebanes  haue  beene  mery  in  there  streetes,  if  he  had  beene  to  35 
watch  their  towers.  But  destinie  is  seldome  foreseene,  neuer  pre- 
uented.  We  are  here  now  captiues,  whose  neckes  are  yoaked  by 
force,  but  whose  harts  can  not  yeelde  by  death.  Come  Campaspe 
and  the  rest,  let  vs  not  be  ashamed  to  cast  our  eyes  on  him,  on  whom 
wee  feared  not  to  cast  our  dartes.  40 

Par.  Madame,  you  neede  not  doubt,  it  is  Alexander,  that  is  the 
conquerour. 

Timo.    Alex,  hath  ouercome,  not  conquered. 

Par.   To  bring  al  vnder  his  subiection  is  to  coquer. 

Timo.    He  cannot  subdue  that  which  is  diuine.  45 

Par.    Thebes  was  not. 

Timo.   Vertue  is. 

Clitus.   Alexander  as   he   tendreth   vertue,   so  he  will  you ;    he 
drinketh  not  bloud,  but  thirsteth  after  honor,  he  is  greedy  of  victory, 
but  neuer  satisfied  with  mercy.     In  fight  terrible,  as  becometh  a  cap-  50 
taine ;  in  conqueste  milde,  as  beseemeth  a  king.     In  al  things,  then 
which  nothing  can  be  greater,  he  is  Alexander. 

Camp.  Then  if  it  be  such  a  thing  to  be  Alexander,  I  hope  it  shalbe 
no  miserable  things  to  be  a  virgin.  For  if  he  saue  our  honors,  it  is 
more  the"  to  restore  our  goods.  And  rather  doe  I  wish  hee  preserue  55 

27  not  all  old  and  mod.  eds.  32  raced  Q*  :  rased  QQS*  BL  Dods.  F. :  razed 
Kelt.  39  on1  Q*rest:  one  Q2  41  not  ont.  Q*  after  is*  QQ23 place 

a  needless  comma  54  thing  Qs  rest  55  heej  he'd  Dods. 


sc.  i]  CAMPASPE  319 

our  fame,  then  our  lyues ;  which  if  he  do,  wee  will  confesse  there  can 
be  no  greater  thing  then  to  be  Alexander. 

{Enter  ALEXANDER,  HEPHAESTION,  and  Attendants.) 

Alex.    Clitus,  are  these  prisoners  ?  of  whece  these  spoiles  ? 

Clitus.    Like  your  maiesty,  they  are  prisoners,  &  of  Thebes. 
60      Alex.    Of  what  calling  or  reputation  ? 

CHtus.    I  know  not,  but  they  seeme  to  be  Ladies  of  honor. 

Alex.    I  wil  know.    Madam,  of  whence  you  are  I  know  :  but  who, 
I  cannot  tell. 

Timo.   Alexander,  I  am  the  sister  of  Theagenes,  who  fought  a  battell 
65  with  thy  father  before  the  City  of  Chyronie,  where  he  died,  I  say 
which  noe  ca  gainsay,  valiatly. 

Alex.   Lady,  there  seeme  in  your  words  sparkes  of  your  brothers 
deedes,  but  woorser  fortune  in  your  life  then  his  death :  but  feare 
not,  for  you  shall  Hue  without  violence,  enemies,  or  necessitie :  but 
70  what  are  you  fay  re  Lady,  another  sister  to  Theagines  ? 

Camp.    No  sister  to  Theagines,  but  an  humble  hand-maid  to  Alex 
ander,  borne  of  a  meane  parentage,  but  to  extreame  fortune. 

Alex.  Well  Ladies,  for  so  your  vertues  shew  you,  whatsoeuer  your 
birth es  be,  you  shalbe  honourably  entreated.  Athens  shall  be  your 
75  Thebes,  &  you  shal  not  be  as  abiectes  of  warre,  but  as  subiectes  to 
Alexander.  Permenio,  conducte  these  honourable  Ladies  into  the 
Citie  :  charge  the  souldiers  not  so  much  as  in  wordes  to  offer  them 
any  offence,  and  let  all  wants  be  supplyed,  so  farre  forth  as  shalbe 
necessary  for  such  persons  &  my  prisoners. 

Exeunt  PARME.  6°  captiui. 

80  Hephestion,  it  resteth  now  that  we  haue  as  great  care  to  gouerne  in 
peace,  as  conquer  in  war  :  that  whilest  armes  cease,  artes  may  flourish, 
and  ioyning  letters  with  launces,  we  endeuor  to  be  as  good  Philoso 
phers  as  soldiers,  knowing  it  no  lesse  praise  to  be  wise,  the  commen 
dable  to  be  vailiant. 

'  85  Hep.  Your  Maiestie  therin  sheweth  that  you  haue  as  great  desire 
to  rule  as  to  subdue :  &  needes  must  that  common  wealth  be  fortu 
nate,  whose  captaine  is  a  Philosopher,  and  whose  Philosopher  is 
a  Captaine. 

Exeunt. 

65  Chyronie  Q2 :    Chyeronie  (X3 :    Chyeronte  Q*  Bl.  Dods.  F.      Reed  (1780) 
wrongly  reports  QQ1*  as  reading  Chieronie  67  seems  1744  75  abiectes] 

objects  1744  87  is2  om.  Bl.  F.  Kelt. 


320  CAMPASPE  [ACTI 

SCH^ENA  SECUNDA. — {A  Street.) 
{Enter)  MANES,  GRANICHUS,  PSYLLUS. 

Manes.  I  serue  in  steede  of  a  maister,  a  mouse,  whose  house  is 
a  tub,  whose  dinner  is  a  crust,  and  whose  bed  is  a  boord. 

Psyllus.  Then  art  thou  in  a  state  of  life,  which  Philosophers  com 
mend.  A  crumme  for  thy  supper,  an  hande  for  thy  cup,  and  thy 
clothes  for  thy  sheetes.  For  Natura  pauris  contenta.  5 

Gran.  Manes,  it  is  pittie  so  proper  a  man  should  be  cast  away 
vppon  a  Philosopher :  but  that  Diogenes  that  dogge  should  haue 
Manes  that  dogbolt,  it  grieeueth  nature  and  spiteth  arte,  the  one 
hauing  found  thee  so  dissolute,  absolute  I  would  say,  in  body,  the 
other  so  single,  singular  in  minde.  10 

Manes.  Are  you  mery  ?  it  is  a  signe  by  the  trip  of  your  tongue, 
and  the  toyes  of  your  head,  that  you  haue  done  that  to  day,  which 
I  haue  not  done  these  three  dayes. 

Psyllus.    What  is  that  ? 

Manes.    Dined.  15 

Gran.    I  thinke  Diogenes  keepes  but  cold  cheere. 

Manes.    I  would  it  were  so,  but  hee  keepeth  neither  hot  nor  cold. 

Gran.  What  then,  luke  warme  ?  That  made  Manes  runne  from 
his  maister  last  day. 

Psyllus.   Manes  had  reason  :  for  his  name  foretold  as  much.  20 

Manes.    My  name  ?  how  so,  sir  boy  ? 

Psyllus.  You  know  that  it  is  called  Mons,  a  mouendo,  because  it 
standes  still. 

Manes.    Good. 

Psyllus.   And  thou  art  named  Manes,  a  manendo,  beecause  thou  25 
runst  away. 

Manes.    Passing  reasons  !  I  did  not  runne  awaye,  but  retire. 

Psyllus.  To  a  prison,  because  thou  woldest  haue  leisure  to  contem 
plate. 

Manes.    I  will  proue  that  my  body  was  immortall :  beecause  it  was  30 
in  prison. 

Gran.    As  how  ? 

Manes.  Didde  your  maisters  neuer  teach  you  that  the  soule  is 
immortall  ? 

Gran.    Yes.  35 

2  boord  is  a  bed   ()<2123  14  What  is  Qz:   Whats  Q*  rest  18  kicke 

warme  Q*    That]  What  1744        19  the  last  Q*  Bl.  mods.         2  7  reasons,  old  eds. 


sc.ii]  CAMPASPE  321 

Manes.   And  the  body  is  the  prison  of  the  soule. 
Gran.   True. 

Manes.   Why  then,  thus  to  make  my  body  immortal,  I  put  it  to 
prison. 
40      Gran.    Oh  bad  ! 

Psyllus.    Excellent  ill ! 

Manes.   You  may  see  how  dull  a  fasting  wit  is  :  therfore  Psyllus 
let  vs  go  to  supper  with  Granichus  :   Plato  is  the  best  fellow  of  al 
Phylosophers.     Giue  me   him   that  reades  in  the  morning  in  the 
45  schoole,  and  at  noone  in  the  kitchin. 
Psyllus.   And  me. 

Gran.  Ah  sirs,  my  maister  is  a  king  in  his  parlour  for  the  body, 

and  a  God  in  his  study  for  the  soule.      Among  all  his  menne  he 

commendeth  one  that  is  an  excellent  Musition,  then  stand  I  by, 

50  and  clap  another  on  the  shoulder,  and  say,  this  is  a  passing  good 

Cooke. 

Manes.  It  is  well  doone  Granichus ;  for  giue  me  pleasure  that 
goes  in  at  the  mouth,  not  the  eare ;  I  had  rather  fill  my  guttes  then 
my  braines. 

55      Psyllus.    I  serue  Apelles,  whoe   feedeth    mee  as   Diogenes  doth 
Manes ;  for  at  dinner  the  one  preacheth  abstinence,  the  other  com 
mendeth  counterfeiting  :  when  I  would  eat  meat,  he  paintes  a  spit, 
&  whe  I  thirst,  O  saith  he,  is  not  this  a  faire  pot  ?   and  points  to 
a  table  whiche  coteines  the  banquet  of  the  Gods,  where  are  many 
60  dishes  to  feede  the  eie,  but  not  to  fill  the  gut. 
Gran.    What  doost  thou  then  ? 

Psyllus.  This  doeth  hee  then,  bring  in  many  examples  that  some 
haue  liued  by  sauours,  &  proueth  that  much  easier  it  is  to  fatte  by 
colours  :  and  telles  of  birdes  that  haue  beene  fatted  by  painted  grapes 
65  in  winter :  &  how  many  haue  so  fed  their  eies  with  their  mistresse 
picture,  that  they  neuer  desired  to  take  food,  being  glutted  with  the 
delight  in  their  fauours.  Then  doth  he  shew  me  couterfeits,  such  as 
haue  surfeited  with  their  filthy  &  lothsome  vomits,  and  with  the  riotous 
Bacchanalles  of  the  God  Bacchus,  &  his  disorderly  crew,  which  are 
70  painted  al  to  the  life  in  his  shop.  To  coclude,  I  fare  hardly,  thogh 
I  go  richly,  which  maketh  me  when  I  shuld  begin  to  shadow  a  Ladies 
face,  to  draw  a  Lambes  head,  &  sometime  to  set  to  the  body  of 

38  thus]  this  Bl.  to2  QQ*3:  in  Q*  BL  mods.  49  commedeth  Q*  57 
a  om.  Bl.  63  fatte]  grow  fat  Dods. 


322  CAMPASPE  [ACT  i 

a  maide  a  shoulder   of  mutton  :    for  semper  animus  meus  est  in 
patinis. 

Manes.  Thou  art  a  God  to  me :  for  could  I  see  but  a  Cookes  75 
shop*  painted,  I  would  make  mine  eyes  fatte  as  butter.  For  I  haue 
nought  but  sentences  to  fil  my  maw,  as  plures  occidit  crapula  quam 
gladius,  musa  ieiunantibus  arnica :  repletion  killeth  delicately :  &  an 
old  saw  of  abstinence,  Socrates' :  The  belly  is  the  heads  graue.  Thus 
with  sayings,  not  with  meate,  he  maketh  a  gaily  mafrey.  80 

Gran.    But  how  doest  thou  then  liue  ? 

Manes.   With  fine  iests,  sweet  aire,  &  the  dogs  almes. 

Gran,   Wei,  for  this  time  I  will  stanch  thy  gut,  &  amog  pots  & 
platters  thou  shalt  see  what  it  is  to  seme  Plato. 

Psyllus.    For  ioy  of  Granichus  lets  sing.  85 

Manes.   My  voice  is  as  cleare  in  the  euening  as  in  the  morning. 

Gran.   Another  commodity  of  emptines. 


SONG. 

Gran.        S~\  For  a  Bowie  of  fatt  Canary, 

^^^     Rich  Palermo,  sparkling  Sherry, 

Some  Nectar  else,  from  luncfs  Daiery,  $3 

O  these  draughts  would  make  vs  merry. 

Psyllus.    O  for  a  wench,  (I  deale  in  faces, 
And  in  other  dayntier  things,) 
Tickled  am  I  with  her  Embraces, 
Fine  dancing  in  such  Fairy  Ringes.  95 

Manes.     O  for  a  plump  fat  leg  of  Mutton, 

Veale,  Lambe,  Capon,  Pigge,  £  Conney, 

None  is  happy  but  a  Glutton, 

None  an  Asse  but  who  wants  money. 

Chor.       Wines  (indeed,)  &  Girles  are  good,  100 

But  braue  victuals  feast  the  bloud, 
For  wenches,  wine,  and  Lusty  cheere, 
loue  would  leape  down  to  surfet  heere. 

{Exeunt) 

79  Socrates  old  eds.:  by  bef.  Socrates  Dods.  P  greue  QQ*3  85  of 

Granichus  QQ :  of  Granicus  Dods. :  of  it  Granichus  Bl.  F.  Kelt.  s.  D.  Song. 

This  word  alone  in  Q  Q  1 744 ;  Bl.  fir  striving  the  words  of  the  song        96  fat  om.  F. 


sc.  in]  CAMPASPE  323 

SCH^NA    TERTIA. —  (Interior  of  the  Palace   (with  transfer  to  the 
Market-place  at  I.  no).} 

MELIPUS,  PLATO,  ARISTOTLE,  CRISIPPUS,  CRATES,  CLEANTHES, 
ANAXARCHUS,  ALEXANDER,  HEPHESTION,  PARMENIO,  CLYTUS, 
DIOGENES. 

(Enter  MELIPPUS.) 

Melip.  I  had  neuer  such  a  doe  to  warne  schollers  to  come  before 
a  king.  First,  I  cam  to  Crisippus,  a  tall  leane  old  mad  man,  willing 
him  presently  to  appeare  before  Alexander ;  he  stoode  staring  on  my 
face,  neither  mouing  his  eies  nor  his  body;  I  vrging  him  to  giue 

'  5  some  answer,  hee  tooke  vp  a  booke,  sate  downe,  and  saide  nothing  : 
Melissa  his  maid  told  me  it  was  his  manner,  and  that  oftetimes  she 
was  fain  to  thrust  rrieate  into  his  mouth :  for  that  he  wold  rather 
starue  the  ceasse  studie.  Well  thoght  I,  seeing  bookish  men  are  so 
blockish,  &  so  great  clarkes  such  simple  courtiers,  I  wil  neither  be 

10  partaker  of  their  comons  nor  their  comme'dations.  Fro  thence 
I  came  to  Plato  &  to  Aristotle,  and  to  diuerse  other,  none  refusing 
to  come,  sauing  an  olde  obscure  fellowe,  who  sitting  in  a  tub  turned 
towardes  the  sunne,  reade  Greek  to  a  yong  boy  ;  him  when  I  willed 
to  appeare  before  Alexander,  he  answeared,  if  Alexander  wold  faine 

15  see  me,  let  him  come  to  mee ;  if  learne  of  me^lette  him  come  to  me  ; 
whatsoeuer  it  be,  let  him  come  to  me  :  why,,  said  I,  he  is  a  king ;  he 
answered,  why,  I  am  a  Philosopher ;  why,  but  he  is  Alexander  ; 
I,  but  I  am  Diogenes.  I  was  halfe  angry  to  see  one  so  crooked  in 
his  shape,  to  be  so  crabbed  in  his  sayings.  So  going  my  way,  I  said, 

20  thou  shalt  repent  it,  if  thou  comest  not  to  Alexander:  nay,  smiling 
answered  he,  Alexander  may  repent  it,  if  he  come  not  to  Diogenes  ; 
vertue  must  be  sought,  not  offered :  and  so  turning  himself  to  his 
eel,  he  grunted  I  know  not  what,  like  a  pig  vnder  a  tub.  But  I  must 
be  gone,  the  Philosophers  are  comming.  Exit. 

(Enter  PLATO,  ARISTOTLE,  CLEANTHES,  ANAXARCHUS,  CRATES,  and 

CHRYSIPPUS.) 

25  Plato.  It  is  a  difficult  controuersie,  Aristotle^  and  rather  to  be 
wondred  at  then  beleeued,  how  natural  causes  should  worke  super 
natural  effects. 

Arts.    I  doe  not  so  much  stand  vpon  the  apparition  is  seene  in 

9  &  so  QQDods. :  so  om.  Bl.  F.  Kelt.         u  others  Dods.        28  is  om.  Dods. 

Y  2 


324  CAMPASPE  {ACT  I 

the  Moone,   neither  the  Demonium  of  Socrates,  as    that  I  cannot 
by  naturall  reason  giue  any  reason  of  the  ebbing  and  flowing  of  the  3° 
Sea,  which  makes  me  in  the  depth  of  my  studies  to  crye  out,  O  ens 
entium,  miserere  met. 

Plato.    Cleanthes  and  you  attribute  so  muche  to  nature  by  searching 
for  things  which  are  not  to  be  found,  that  whilest  you  studie  a  cause 
of  your  owne,  you  omitte  the  occasion  it  selfe.     There  is  no  man  so  35 
sauage  in  whom  resteth  not  this  diuine  particle,  that  there  is  an 
omnipotent,  eternal,  and  deuine  mouer,  which  may  be  called  God. 

Cleant.  I  am  of  this  minde,  that  that  first  mouer,  which  you 
tearme  God,  is  the  instrument  of  all  the  mouings,  which  we  attribute 
to  nature.  The  earth  which  is  masse,  swimmeth  on  the  sea,  seasons  40 
deuided  in  themselues,  fruits  growing  in  themselues,  the  rnaiestie  of 
the  skie,  the  whole  firmament  of  the  world,  &  whatsoeuer  els 
appeareth  miraculous,  what  man  almost  of  meane  capacity  but  can 
proue  it  naturall  ? 

Anaxar.    These  causes  shalbe  debated  at  our  Philosophers  feast,  45 
in  which  controuersie  I  wil  take  parte  with  Aristotle,  that  there  is 
Natura  naturans,  &  yet  not  God. 

Crates.    And  I  with  Plato,  that  there  is  Deus  optimus  maximus, 
and  not  nature. 

Arts.    Here  commeth  Alexander.  5° 

{Enter  ALEXANDER,  HEPHAESTION,  PARMENIO,  and  CLITUS.) 

Alex.    I  see  Hephestion,  that  these  Philosophers  are  here  attending 
for  vs. 

Hep.    They  were  not  Philosophers,  if  they  knew  not  their  dueties. 

Alex.    But  I  much  maruaile  Diogenes  shoulde  be  so  dogged. 

Hep.    I  doe  not  think  but  his  excuse  wilbe  better  then  Melippus  55 
message. 

Alex.  I  will  go  see  him  Hephestion,  because  I  long  to  see  him 
that  would  cornmaund  Alexander  to  come,  to  whom  al  the  world  is 
like  to  come.  Aristotle  &  the  rest,  sithence  my  comming  from  Thebes 
to  Athens,  from  a  place  of  conquest  to  a  pallace  of  quiet,  I  haue  60 
resolued  with  my  self  in  my  court  to  haue  as  many  Philosophers,  as 
I  had  in  my  camp  soldiers.  My  court  shalbe  a  schole,  wherein  I  wil 
haue  vsed  as  great  doctrine  in  peace,  as  I  did  in  warre  discipline. 

29  as  old  eds.  Dods. :  so  F.  38  that 2]  the  Dods.  48  Crates.     Reed  cor 

recting  old  eds.  Craterus,  1744  Crat.  53  were  QQZ5  1780,  1825  :    are  Q*  HI. 

1 744  F.  Kelt. :  Reed  wrongly  reports  Q*  Bl.  as  reading  These  for  They          knew 
QQ  Dods.  :  know  Bl.  F.  Kelt.  58  commaund  om.  Bl.  60  of2  om.  Bl. 


sc.  in]  CAMPASPE  325 

Arts.   We  are  al  here  ready  to  be  commaunded,  &  glad  we  are 
6^  that  we  are  commaunded  :  for  that  nothing  better  becommeth  kings 
the  literature,  which  maketh  them  come  as  neere  to  the  Gods  in 
wisdome,  as  they  do  in  dignitie. 

Alex.    It  is  so  Aristotle  :  but  yet  there  is  among  you,  yea  &  of 
your  bringing  vp,   that  sought  to   destroy   Alexander:    Calistenes, 
7°  Aristotle,  whose  treasons  againste  his  prince  shall  not  bee  borne  out 
with  the  reasons  of  his  Phylosophy. 

Arts.  If  euer  mischiefe  entred  into  the  heart  of  Calistenes,  let 
Calistenes  suffer  for  it;  but  that  Aristotle  euer  imagined  any  such 
thing  of  Calistenes ,  Aristotle  doth  denie. 

75  Alex.  Well  Aristotle,  kindred  may  blind  thee,  and  affection  mee, 
but  in  kinges  causes  I  will  not  stande  to  schollers  arguments.  This 
meeting  shalbe  for  a  comandement,  that  you  all  frequent  my  courte, 
instructe  the  young  with  rules,  confirme  the  olde  with  reasons  :  lette 
your  Hues  be  answerable  to  your  learnings,  leaste  my  proceedings  by 
80  contrary  to  my  promises. 

Hep.  You  sayde  you  woulde  aske  euery  one  of  them  a  question, 
which  yester  night  none  of  vs  coulde  aunswere. 

Alex.    I  will.     Plato,  of  all  beastes,  which  is  the  subtillest  ? 
Plato.   That  which  man  hetherto  neuer  knew. 
85      Alex.   Aristotle,  how  should  a  man  be  thought  a  God  ? 
Arts.   In  doing  a  thing  vnpossible  for  a  man. 
Alex.    Crisippus,  which  was  first,  the  day  or  the  night  ? 
Chrys.    The  day,  by  a  day. 

Alex.    Indeede   straunge  questions  must  haue  straung  answeres. 
90  Cleanthes,  what  say  you,  is  life  or  death  the  stronger  ? 
Cle.    Life,  that  suffereth  so  many  troubles. 
Alex.    Crates,  how  long  should  a  man  Hue  ? 
Crates.   Till  he  thinke  it  better  to  die  then  Hue. 
Alex.   Anaxarchus,  whether  doth  the  sea  or  the  earth  bring  forth 
95  most  creatures  ? 

Anax.    The  earth,  for  the  sea  is  but  a  parte  of  the  earth. 
Alex.   Hephestion,  me  thinkes  they  haue  aunswered  all  well,  &  in 
such  questions  I  meane  often  to  trie  them. 

Hep.    It  is  better  to  haue  in  your  courte  a  wise  man,  then  in  your 
i  oo  ground  a  golden  mine.      Therefore  would  I  leaue  war,  to  studie 
wisdom,  were  I  Alexander. 

78  rules]  rulers  Bl.  corrected  by  F.  79  by  Q*  :  be  QQ3'  Bl.  mods,  93 

then  QQ*3:  than  to  Q*  Bl.  mods. 


326  CAMPASPE  [ACT  I,  sc.  in 

Alex.  So  would  I,  were  I  Hephestion.  But  come,  let  vs  go  and 
giue  release,  as  I  promised,  to  our  Theba  thralles. 

Exeunt  (ALEX.,  HEPH.,  FARM.,  andCiAT.) 

Plato.    Thou  art  fortunate  Aristotle,  that  Alexander  is  thy  scholler. 

Arts.   And  you  happy  that  he  is  your  soueraigne.  105 

Chrys.  I  could  like  the  man  well,  if  he  could  be  conteted  to  be 
but  a  man. 

Aris.  He  seeketh  to  draw  neere  to  the  Gods  in  knowledge,  not  to 
be  a  God. 

(DIOGENES'  tub  is  thrust  on.) 

Plato.   Let  us  questio  a  litle  with  Diogenes,  why  he  went  not  with  no 
vs  to  Alexander.     Diogenes,  thou  didst  forget  thy  dutie,  that  thou 
wentst  not  with  vs  to  the  king. 

Diog.  (from  his  tub).  And  you  your  profession,  that  you  went  to 
the  king. 

Plato.   Thou  takest  as  great  pride  to  bee  peeuish,  as  others  doe  115 
glory  to  bee  vertuous. 

Diog.  And  thou  as  great  honor  being  a  Philosopher  to  bee 
thought  courtlike,  as  others  shame  that  be  courtiers,  to  be  accounted 
Philosophers. 

Aris.    These  austere  maners  set  a  side,  it  is  wel  known  that  thou  1 20 
didst  counterfeate  monye. 

Diog.  And  thou  thy  maners,  in  that  thou  didste  not  counterfeite 
money. 

Aris.  Thou  hast  reason  to  cotemn  the  courte,  being  both  in  body 
and  mynde  too  crooked  for  a  courtier.  125 

Diog.  As  good  be  crooked,  and  endeuour  to  make  my  self 
straight,  from  the  court,  as  to  be  straight,  and  learne  to  be  crooked 
at  the  court. 

Crates.    Thou  thinkest  it  a  grace  to  be  opposite  against  Alexander. 

Diog.    And  thou  to  be  iump  with  Alexander.  13°. 

Anax.  Let  vs  go  :  for  in  contemning  him,  wee  shall  better  please 
him,  than  in  wondring  at  him. 

Aris.   Plato,  what  dost  thou  thinke  of  Diogenes  ? 

Plato.    To  be  Socrates  furious.     Let  vs  go. 

Exeunt  Philosophi. 

103  thralles  QQ  Dods. :  thrall  Bl.  F.  Kelt.  105  all  bef.  you  Q*  Bl.  mods. 

s.  D.  [DIOGENES'  tub  is  thrust  on.]  not  in  previous  eds.  Dodsley  supplied  the  absence 
of  any  stage-direction  in  old  eds.  by  Enter  DIOGENES,  but  see  note  113  you2 

am.  Bl.  F.  Kelt.  127  to1  om.  Bl.  F.  Kelt.  129  Crates.  QQ  Reed:  Crat. 

1744:  Cr.  Bl. :  Cris.  F.  Kelt. 


ACT  ii,  sc.  i]  CAMPASPE  327 

ACTUS   SECUNDUS 

SCH^ENA  PRIMA.— {A  Street.) 

{Enter  on  one  side)  DIOGENES  {with  a  lantern  ;  on  the  other)  PSYLLUS, 
MANES,  GRANICHUS. 

Psyllus.  Behold  Manes  where  thy  maister  is,  seeking  either 
for  bones  for  his  dinner,  or  pinnes  for  his  sleeues.  I  wil  go  salute 
him. 

Manes.    Doe  so ;  but  mum,  not  a  woord  you  sawe  Manes. 
5      Gran.   Then  stay  thou  behinde,  and  I  will  goe  with  Psyllus. 

Psyllus.    All  haile  Diogenes  to  your  proper  person. 

Diog.   All  hate  to  thy  peeuish  conditions. 

Gran.    O  Dogge. 

Psyllus.    What  dost  thou  seeke  for  here  ? 
10      Diog.    For  a  man  and  a  beast. 

Gran.  That  is  easie  without  thy  light  to  be  found,  bee  not  all 
these  men  ? 

Diog.   Called  men. 

Gran.   What  beast  is  it  thou  lookest  for  ? 
15      Diog.   The  beast  my  man,  Mams* 

Psyllus.    He  is  a  beast  indeede  that  will  serue  thee. 

Diog.    So  is  he  that  begat  thee. 

Gran.    What  wouldest  thou  do,  if  thou  shouldest  find  Manes  ? 

Diog.    Giue  him  leaue  to  doo  as  hee  hath  done  before. 
20      Gran.   Whats  that  ? 

Diog.   To  runne  away. 

Psyllus.   Why,  hast  thou  no  neede  of  Manes  ? 

Diog.  It  were  a  shame  for  Diogenes  to  haue  neede  of  Manes,  & 
for  Manes  to  haue  no  need  of  Diogenes. 

25      Gran.    But  put  the  case  he  were  gone,  wouldest  thou  entertaine 
any  of  vs  two  ? 

Diog.   Vpon  condition. 

Psyllus.   What? 

Diog.   That  you  should  tell  me  wherefore  any  of  you  both  were 
30  good. 

Gran.    Why,  I  am  a  scholler,  and  well  scene  in  Phylosophy. 

Psyllus.   And  I  a  prentice,  and  well  scene  in  painting. 

4  after  word  add  that  Q*  Bl.  mods. 


328  CAMPASPE  [ACT  n 

Diog.  Well  then  Granichus^  bee  thou  a  painter  to  amend  thine  yll 
face,  &  thou  Psyllus  a  Phylosopher,  to  correct  thine  euil  manners. 
But  who  is  that,  Manes?  35 

Manes.    I  care  not  who  I  were,  so  I  were  not  Manes. 

Gran.    You  are  taken  tardie. 

Psyllus.  Let  vs  slip  aside  Granichus^  to  see  the  salutation  betweene 
Manes  and  his  maister. 

JDiog.   Manes,  thou  knowest  the  last  day  I  threw  away  my  dish,  to  40 
drink  in  my  had,  because  it  was  superfluous  ;  now  I  am  determined 
to  put  away  my  man,  and  serue  my  selfe  :  Quia  non  egeo  tui  vel  te. 

Manes.  Maister,  you  know  a  while  a  goe  I  ran  awaye,  so  doe 
I  meane  to  do  againe,  quia  scio  tibi  non  esse  argentum. 

Diog.    I  know  I  haue  no  mony,  neither  will  I  haue  euer  a  man  :  45 
for  I  was  resolued  longe  sithence  to  put  away  both  my  slaues,  money 
and  Manes. 

Manes.  So  was  I  determined  to  shake  of  both  my  dogs,  hunger 
and  Diogenes. 

Psyllus.    O  sweete  consent  beetweene  a  crowde  and  a  lewes  harp.  50 

Gran,    Come,  let  vs  reconcile  them. 

Psyllus.  It  shall  not  neede  :  for  this  is  their  vse,  nowe  do  they 
dine  one  vpon  another.  ^  DIOGENES. 


Gran.  How  now  Manes,  art  thou  gone  from  thy  maister  ? 
Manes.    Noe,  I  didde  but  nowe  bynde  my  selfe  to  him.  55 

Psyllus.    Why,  you  were  at  mortall  iars. 

Manes.    In  faith  no,  we  brake  a  bitter  iest  one  vppon  another. 
Gran.    Why,  thou  art  as  dogged  as  he. 
Psyllus.    My  father  knew  them  both  litle  whelpes. 
Manes.    Well,  I  will  hie  mee  after  my  maister.  60 

Gran.    Why,  is  it  supper  time  with  Diogenes  ? 
Manes.    I,  with  him  at  al  times  when  he  hath  meate. 
Psyllus.    Why  then,  euery  man  to  his  home,  and  lette  vs  steale  out 
againe  anone. 

Gran.   Where  shall  we  meete  ?  65 

Psyllus.   Why,  at  Alee  vendibili  suspensa  hedera  non  est  opus. 
Manes.    O  Psyllus  ',  habeo  te  loco  parentis,  thou  blessest  me. 

Exeunt. 

37  Gran.]  Manes.  1825  wrongly         45  I3  om.  Bl.  F.         62  time  Bl.  F.  Kelt. 
66  Ala]  I  emend  Ala  of  all  preceding  eds.  Keltic  noted  the  error  hsedera  all 

eds.  except  hoedera  F. 


sc.  ii]  CAMPASPE  329 

SCHLENA  SECUNDA. — (Interior  of  the  Palace  (with  transfer  to  the 

Market-place  at  I.  119).} 
ALEXANDER,  HEPHESTION,  Page,  DIOGENES,  APELLES. 

(Enter  ALEXANDER,  HEPHAESTION,  and  Page.) 
Alex.   Stand  aside  sir  boy,  till  you  be  called.     Hephestion,  how 
doe  yee  like  the  sweete  face  of  Campaspe  ? 

Hep.   I  cannot  but  commend  the  stoute  courage  of  Timoclea. 
Alex.    Without  doubt  Campaspe  had  some  great  man  to  her  father. 
5      Hep.    You  know  Timoclea  had  Theagines  to  her  brother. 
Alex.    Timoclea  stil  in  thy  mouth  !  art  thou  not  in  loue  ? 
Hep.   Not  I. 

Alex.   Not  with  Timoclea  you  meane ;  wherein  you  resemble  the 
Lapwing,  who  crieth  most  where  her  neast  is  not.     And  so  you  lead 
10  me  from  espying  your  loue  with  Campaspe,  you  cry  Timoclea. 

Hep.  Could  I  aswell  subdue  kingdomes,  as  I  can  my  thoughtes ; 
or  were  I  as  farre  from  ambition,  as  I  am  fro  loue ;  al  the  world 
wold  account  mee  as  valiant  in  armes,  as  I  know  my  self  moderate 
in  affection. 

*5      Alex.    Is  loue  a  vice  ? 
Hep.    It  is  no  vertue. 

Alex.  Well,  now  shalt  thou  see  what  small  difference  I  make 
betweene  Alexander  and  Hephestion.  And  sith  thou  haste  beene 
alwayes  partaker  of  my  triumphes,  thou  shalt  be  partaker  of  my 
20  tormetes.  I  loue,  Hephestion,  I  loue !  I  loue  Campaspe,  a  thing 
farre  vnfit  for  a  Macedonian,  for  a  king,  for  Alexander.  Why 
hangest  thou  down  thy  head  Hephestion  ?  blushing  to  heare  that 
which  I  am  not  ashamed  to  tell. 

Hep.    Might  my  wordes  craue  pardon,  and  my  counsel  credite, 
25  I  woulde  both  discharge  the  duetie  of  a  subiect,  for  so  I  am,  &  the 
office  of  a  friend,  for  so  I  will. 

Alex.  Speake  Hephestion ;  for  whatsoeuer  is  spoken,  Hephestion 
speaketh  to  Alexander. 

Hep.     I   can  not  tel,  Alexander,  whether   the  reporte  be  more 

30  shameful  to  be  heard,  or   the   cause   sorrowfull   to   be   beleeued ! 

What !  is  the  sonne  of  Phillip,  king  of  Macedon,  become  the  subiect 

of  Campaspe,  the  captiue  of  Thebes  ?    Is  that  minde,  whose  greatnes 

the  world  could  not  containe,  drawn  within  the  compasse  of  an  idle 

alluring  eie  ?     Wil  you  handle  the  spindle  with  Hercules,  when  you 

2  you  Q4  Bl.  mods.  9  you]  to  1744  20  I  loue2  oin.  1780,  1825 


3JO  CAMPASPE  [ACT  11 

should   shake  the  speare  with  Achilles?     Is  the  warlike  sofld  of  35 
drumme  and  trumpe  turned  to  the  soft  noyse  of  lire  and  lute  ?  the 
neighing  of  barbed  steeds,  whose  loudnes  filled  the  ayre  with  terrour, 
and  whose  breathes  dimmed  the  sunne  with  smoak,  conuerted  to 
dilicate  tunes  and  amorous  glaunces  ?     O  Alexander,  that  soft  and 
yeelding  minde  should  not  bee  in  him,  whose  hard  and  vnconquered  4° 
heart  hath  made  so   many  yeelde.     But  you  loue,  ah  griefe  !  but 
whom  ?      Campaspe,     ah    shame !     a    maide    forsooth    vnknowne, 
vnnoble,  &  who  can  tell  whether  immodest  ?  whose  eies  are  framed 
by  arte  to  inamour,  &  whose  heart  was  made  by  nature  to  inchaunt. 
I,  but  she  is  bewtiful ;  yea,  but  not  therefore  chast :    I,  but  she  is  45 
comly  in  al  parts  of  the  body  :  yea,  but  she  may  be  crooked  in  some 
part  of  the  mind :    I,  but  she  is  wise,  yea,  but  she  is  a  woman ! 
Bewty  is  like  the  blackberry,  which  seemeth  red,  when  it  is  not  ripe, 
resembling  pretious  stoes  that  are  polished  with  honny,  which  the 
smother  they  look,  the  sooner  they  breake.     It  is  thought  wonderful  50 
among  the  seamen,  that  Mugil,  of  all  fishes  the  swiftest,  is  found  in 
the  belly  of  the  Bret,   of  al  the  slowest :  And  shall  it  not  seeme 
monstrous  to  wisemen,  that  the  hearte  of  the  greatest  conquerour 
of  the  worlde,  should  be  found  in  the  handes  of  the  weakest  creature 
of  nature  ?  of  a  woman  ?  of  a  captiue  ?     Hermyns  haue  faire  skinnes,  55 
but  fowle  liuers ;  Sepulchres  fresh  colours,  but  rotte  bones ;  women 
faire  faces,    but  false   heartes.      Remember  Alexander  thou    hast 
a  campe  to  gouerne,  not  a  chamber ;   fall  not  from  the  armour  of 
Mars  to  the  armes  of  Venus  t  from  the  fiery  assaults  of  war,  to  the 
maidely  skirmishes   of  loue,   from  displaying  the   Eagle   in   thine  60 
ensigne,  to  set  downe  the  sparow.      I  sighe  Alexander  that  where 
fortune  could  not  conquer,  folly  shuld  ouercome.     But  behold  al  the 
perfection  that  may  be  in  Campaspe  ;  a  hayre  curling  by  nature,  not 
arte ;  sweete  alluring  eies  ;  a  faire  face  made  in  dispite  of  Venus, 
and  a  stately  porte  in  disdaine  of  luno  ;  a  witte  apt  to  conceiue,  and  65 
quick  to  answere ;    a  skin  as  soft  as  silk,  and  as  smooth  as  iet ; 
a   longe   white   hand,  a   fine  litle   foote ;    to   conclude,   all   partes 
answerable   to   the   best   part— what   of  this  ?      Though  she  haue 
heauenly  giftes,  vertue  and  bewtie,  is  she  not  of  earthly  mettall, 
flesh  and  bloud  ?     You  Alexander  that  would  be  a  God,  shew  your  70 
selfe  in  this  worse  then  a  man,  so  soone  to  be  both  ouerseene  and 
ouertaken  in  a   woma,  whose  false   teares  know  their  true  times, 

44  arte  QQ**  Bl.  mods. :  nature  Q*  46  yea,  om.  Bl.  F.  Kelt.  51 

a  bef.  mugil  j  744. 


sc.  n]  CAMPASPE  331 

whose  smooth  words  wound  deeper  then  sharpe  swordes.     There  is 
no   surfeit  so  dangerous  as  that  of  honney,  nor  anye  poyson  so 
75  deadly  as  that  of  loue ;  in  the  one  phisicke  cannot  preuaile,  nor  in 
the  other  counsell. 

Alex.  My  case  were  light  Hephestion,  and  not  worthy  to  be  called 
loue,  if  reason  were  a  remedy,  or  sentences  could  salue,  that  sense 
canot  conceiue.  Litle  do  you  know,  and  therefore  sleightly  do  you 
So  regarde,  the  dead  embers  in  a  priuate  perso,  or  Hue  coles  in  a  great 
prince,  whose  passions  and  thoughts  do  as  far  exceede  others  in 
extremitie,  as  their  callings  doe  in  Maiestie.  An  Eclipse  in  the 
Sunne  is  more  then  the  falling  of  a  starre ;  none  can  conceiue  the 
torments  of  a  king,  vnlesse  hee  be  a  king,  whose  desires  are  not 
85  inferior  to  their  dignities.  And  then  iudge  Hephestion  if  the  agonies 
of  loue  be  dangerous  in  a  subiect,  whether  they  be  not  more  then 
deadly  vnto  Alexander,  whose  deep  and  not  to  be  conceiued  sighes, 
cleaue  the  hart  in  shiuers ;  whose  wouded  thoughtes  can  neither  be 
expressed  nor  endured.  Cease  then  Hephestion,  with  arguments  to 
90  seeke  to  refel  that,  which  with  their  deitie  the  Gods  cannot  resist ; 
&  let  this  suffice  to  aunswere  thee,  that  it  is  a  king  that  loueth  and 
Alexander,  whose  affectios  are  not  to  be  measured  by  reason,  being 
immortall,  nor  I  feare  me  to  be  borne,  being  intolerable. 

Hep.   I  must  needs  yeeld,  when  neither  reason  nor  counsell  can 
95  be  heard. 

Alex.  Yeeld  Hephestion,  for  Alexander  doth  loue,  and  therefore 
must  obtaine. 

Hep.    Suppose   she   loues   not  you?    affection  commeth  not  by 
appointmente  or  birth;  &  then  as  good  hated  as  enforced. 
100      Alex.    I  am  a  king,  and  will  commaund. 

Hep.  You  may,  to  yeelde  to  luste  by  force ;  but  to  consent  to  loue 
by  feare,  you  cannot. 

Alex.    Why,  what  is  that  which  Alexander  may  not  conquer  as  he 
list? 
1 05      Hep.    Why,  that  which  you  say  the  Gods  cannot  resiste,  Loue. 

Alex.  I  am  a  conquerour,  she  a  captiue ;  I  as  fortunate,  as  she 
faire :  my  greatnes  may  aunswere  her  wants,  and  the  giftes  of  my 
minde  the  modestie  of  hers :  Is  it  not  likely  then  that  she  should 
loue  ?  Is  it  not  reasonable  ? 

no      Hep.    You  say  that  in  loue  there  is  no  reason,  &  therfore  there  can 
be  no  likelyhood. 

Alex.    No  more  Hephestion:  in  this  case  I  wil  vse  mine  owne 


332  CAMPASPE  [ACT  n 

counsel!,  and  in  all  other  thine  aduice  :  thou  maist  be  a  good  soldier, 
but  neuer  good  louer.     Cal  my  Page.    (Page  advances.)     Sirha,  goe 
presently  to  Apelles,  and  will  him  to  come  to  me  without  either  115 
delay  or  excuse. 

Page.    I  goe.  {Exit.) 

{  The  tub  is  thrust  on. } 

Alex.  In  the  meane  season  to  recreate  my  spirits,  being  so  neare, 
we  will  goe  see  Diogenes.  And  see  where  his  tub  is.  Diogenes  ? 

Diog.    Who  calleth  ?  1 20 

Alex.  Alexander.  How  happened  it  that  you  woulde  not  come 
out  of  your  tub  to  my  palace  ? 

Diog.  Because  it  was  as  far  from  my  tub  to  your  pallace,  as  from 
your  palace  to  my  tub. 

Alex.    Why  the"  doest  thou  ow  no  reuerece  to  kings  ?  I25 

Diog.    No. 

Alex.    Why  so  ? 

Diog.    Because  they  be  no  Gods. 

Alex.    They  be  Gods  of  the  earth. 

Diog.    Yea,  Gods  of  earth.  130 

Alex.    Plato  is  not  of  thy  mind. 

Diog.    I  am  glad  of  it. 

Alex.    Why? 

Diog.  Because  I  would  haue  none  of  Diogenes  minde  but 
Diogenes.  135 

Alex.  If  Alexander  haue  any  thing  that  may  pleasure  Diogenes, 
let  me  know,  and  take  it. 

Diog.  Then  take  not  from  me,  that  you  cannot  giue  me,  the  light 
of  the  world. 

Alex.    What  doest  thou  want  ?  140 

Diog.    Nothing  that  you  haue. 

Alex.    I  haue  the  world  at  commaund. 

Diog.    And  I  in  contempt. 

Alex.    Thou  shalt  Hue  no  longer  than  I  will. 

Diog.    But  I  will  die  whether  you  will  or  no.  M5 

Alex.    How  should  one  learn  to  be  content  ? 

Diog.    Vnlearn  to  couet. 

Alex.  Hephestion,  were  I  not  Alexander,  I  wolde  wishe  to  be 
Diogenes. 

114  s.  D.  [Page  advances]  old  eds.  have  ho  stage-direction.  Dods.  supplied  Enter 
Page  119  Diogenes,  and  QQ™  120  callath  Q3  145  will ']  shall  Q*  Bl.  mods. 


sc.  n]  CAMPASPE  333 

150      Hep.    He  is  dogged,  but  discrete;  I  cannot  tel  how  sharpe,  with 
a  kinde  of  sweetenes ;  ful  of  wit,  yet  too  too  wayward. 

Alex.  Diogenes,  whs  I  come  this  way  again,  I  will  both  see  thee, 
and  confer  with  thee. 

Diog.    Doe.  (Re-enter  Page  with  APELLES.) 

155      Alex.    But  here  commeth  Apelles :  how  now  Apelles,  is  Venus  face 
yet  finished  ? 

Apel.  Not  yet :  Bewty  is  not  so  soone  shadowed,  whose  perfection 
commeth  not  within  the  compasse  either  of  cunning  or  of  colour. 

Alex.    Well,  let  it  rest  vnperfect,  &  come  you  with  me,  where  I  wil 

160  shewe  you  that  finished  by  nature,  that  you  haue  beene  trifling  about 

by  art.  (Exeunt.) 

ACTUS   TERTIUS 

SCH^ENA  PRIMA. — (Room  in  APELLES'  House.) 

(Enter)  APELLES,    CAMPASPE,  (and  PSYLLUS). 

Apel.  Lady,  I  doubt  whether  there  bee  any  colour  so  fresh,  that 
may  shadow  a  countenance  so  faire. 

Camp.    Sir,  I  had  thought  you  had  beene  commaunded  to  paint 

with  your  hand,  not  to  glose  with  your  tongue ;  but  as  I  haue  heard, 

5  it  is  the  hardest  thing  in  painting  to  set  down  a  hard  fauour,  which 

maketh  you  to  dispair  of  my  face  ;  and  then  shall  you  haue  as  great 

thanks  to  spare  your  labour,  as  to  discredit  your  arte. 

Apel.    Mistresse,  you  neither  differ  from  your  selfe  nor  your  sex : 

for  knowing  your  owne  perfection,  you  seeme  to  dispraise  that  which 

10  men  most  comend,  drawing  the  by  that  meane  into  an  admiration, 

where  feeding  them  selues  they  fall  into  an  extasie ;  your  modestie 

being  the  cause  of  the  one,  and  of  the  other,  your  affections. 

Camp.  I  am  too  young  to  vnderstand  your  speache,  thogh  old 
enough  to  withstand  your  deuise :  you  haue  bin  so  long  vsed  to 
*5  colours,  you  ca  do  nothing  but  colour. 

Apel.  Indeed  the  colours  I  see,  I  feare  wil  alter  the  colour  I  haue  : 
but  come  madam,  will  you  draw  neere,  for  Alexander  will  be  here 
anon.  Psyllus,  stay  you  heere  at  the  window,  if  anye  enquire  for 
me,  aunswere,  Non  lubet  esse  domi.  Exeunt  (into  studio). 

150  how]  how,  1 744 :  how:  1780,1825.  The  old eds.  have  no  stop  154  S.D. 
[Re-enter  Page  &c.]  Reed  supplied  Enter  APELLES  161  s.  D.  [Exeunt] 

supplied  Dods.  s.  D.  [and  PSYLLUS]  required  by  I.  18  4  haue  om.  F. 

8  your1]  you  Q2  12  affections]  perfections  Dods. 


334  CAMPASPE  [ACT  in 


SECUNDA.  —  {The  same.) 
PSYLLUS,  MANES. 

Psyllus  {solus).  It  is  alwayes  my  maisters  fashion,  when  any  fair 
Gentlewoman  is  to  be  drawne  within,  to  make  mee  to  stay  without. 
But  if  he  shuld  paint  lupiter  like  a  Bui,  like  a  Swan,  like  an  Eagle, 
then  must  Psyllus  with  one  hand  grind  colours,  and  with  the  other 
hold  the  candle.  But  let  him  alone,  the  better  he  shadowes  her  5 
face,  the  more  will  he  burne  his  owne  heart.  And  now  if  a  manne 
cold  meet  with  Manes,  who,  I  dare  say,  lookes  as  leane  as  if  Diogenes 
dropped  out  of  his  nose  — 

{Enter  MANES.) 

Manes.  And  here  comes  Manes,  whoe  hath  as  muche  meate  in  his 
maw,  as  thou  hast  honestie  in  thy  head.  10 

Psyllus.    Then  I  hope  thou  art  very  hungry. 

Manes.    They  that  know  thee,  know  that. 

Psyllus.  But  doest  thou  not  remember  that  wee  haue  certaine  licour 
to  conferre  withall. 

Manes.    I,  but  I  haue  busines  ;  I  must  go  cry  a  thing.  1  5 

Psyllus.    Why,  what  hast  thou  lost  ? 

Manes.    That  which  I  neuer  had,  my  dinner. 

Psyllus.    Foule  lubber,  wilt  thou  crye  for  thy  dinner  ? 

Manes.  I  meane,  I  must  cry  ;  not  as  one  would  saye  cry,  but  cry, 
that  is  make  a  noyse.  20 

Psyllus.  Why  foole,  that  is  al  one;  for  if  thou  cry,  thou  must 
needes  make  a  noise. 

Manes.  Boy,  thou  art  deceiued.  Cry  hath  diuerse  significations, 
and  may  bee  alluded  to  manye  things  ;  knaue  but  one,  and  can  be 
applyed  but  to  thee.  25 

Psyllus.    Profound  Manes  \ 

Manes.  Wee  Cynickes  are  madde  fellowes,  didste  thou  not  finde 
I  did  quip  thee  ? 

Psyllus.    No  verely  !  why,  what  is  a  quip  ? 

Manes.    Wee  great  girders  cal  it  a  short  saying  of  a  sharp  witte,  30 
with  a  bitter  sense  in  a  sweete  word. 

Psyllus.  How  canst  thou  thus  diuine,  deuide,  define,  dispute,  and 
all  on  the'suddaine? 

2  to3  om.  1825  6  a]  any  Q{  Bl.  mods.  7  cold]  should  F.  23  divers 
Dods.  24  to  before  one  F.  Kelt.  29  whats  Q*  Bl.  mods.  32  How!  1744 


sc.  ii]  CAMPASPE  335 

Manes.   Wit  wil  haue  his  swing  ;  I  am  bewitcht,  inspird,  inflamed, 
35  infected. 

Psyllus.    Well,  then  will  not  I  tempt  thy  gybing  spirite. 
Manes.    Do  not  Psyllus,  for  thy  dull  head  will  bee  but  a  grind 
stone   for   my   quick   wit,   which   if  thou   whet   with   ouerthwarts, 
perijsti,  actum  est  de  te.     I  haue  drawne  bloud  at  ones  braines  with 
40  a  bitter  bob. 

Psyllus.    Let  me  crosse  my  selfe  :  for  I  die,  if  I  crosse  thee. 
Manes.    Let  me  do  my  busines,  I  my  self  am  afraid,  least  my  wit 
should  waxe  warm,  and  then  must  it  needs  consume  some  hard  head 
with  fine  &  prety  iests.     I  am  some  times  in  such  a  vaine,  that  for 
45  want  of  some  dull  pate  to  worke  on,  I  begin  to  gird  my  selfe. 

Psyllus.   The  Gods  shield  mee  from  such  a  fine  fellowe,  whose 
words  melt  wits  like  waxe. 

Manes.    Well  then,  let  vs  to  the  matter.     In  fayth  my  maister 
meaneth  to  morrow  to  fly. 
50      Psyllus.    It  is  a  iest. 

Manes.    Is  it  a  iest  to  flye?    shouldest  thou  flye  so,  soone  thou 
shouldest  repent  it  in  earnest. 
Psyllus.    Well,  I  will  be  the  cryer. 

Manes  and  Psyllus  one  after  an  other.    O  ys !    O  ys  !    O  ys  !    Al 
55  mariner  of  men,  women,  or  children,  that  will  come  to  morow  into 
the  market  place,  between  the  houres  of  nine  and  ten,  shall  see 
Diogenes  the  Cynick  flye. 

{The  last  word  is  pronounced  by  MANES  only.} 
Psyllus.    I  do  not  think  he  will  flye. 
Manes.   Tush,  say  fly. 
60      Psyllus.    Fly. 

Manes.   Now  let  vs  goe :  for  I  will  not  see  him  againe  til  midnight, 
I  haue  a  back  way  into  his  tub. 

Psyllus.    Which  way  callest  thou  the  backwaye,  when  euery  way 
is  open? 
65      Manes.    I  meane  to  come  in  at  his  back. 

Psyllus.   Well,  let  vs  goe  away,  that  wee  may  returne  speedily. 

Exeunt. 

36  I  not  F.  Kelt.  38  ouerwhartes  Q2 :  ouertwhartes  Q*  39  peristi 

QQZ9  51  so,  soone]  so  soone,  old  and  mod.  eds.  54  Manes  .  .  .  other  so 

old  and  mod.  eds.  s.  D.  [The  last  .  .  .  only]  /  insert  this  on  F's  suggestion 

in  a  note 


33$  CAMPASPE  [ACT  in 

SCH^NA  TERTIA. — (The  same.) 

{ The  curtains  of  the  central  structure  are  withdrawn^  discovering 
the  studio  with)  APELLES,  CAMPASPE. 

Apel.    I  shall   neuer  drawe  your  eies   well,  because   they  blind 
mine. 

Camp.   Why  the",  paint  me  without  eies,  for  I  am  blind. 

Apel.    Were  you  euer  shadowed  before  of  any  ? 

Camp.    No.     And  would  you  could  so  now  shadow  me,  that  I  5 
might  not  be  perceiued  of  any. 

Apel.    It  were  pittie,  but  that  so  absolute  a  face  should  furnish 
Venus  temple  amongst  these  pictures. 

Camp.    What  are  these  pictures  ? 

Apel.    This  is  Lteda,  whom  loue  deceiued  in  likenes  of  a  swan.        10 

Camp.    A  faire  woman,  but  a  foule  deceit. 

Apel.    This  is  Alcmena,  Vnto  who  lupiter  came  in  shape  of  Am- 
phitrio  her  husband,  and  begat  Hercules. 

Camp.    A  famous  sonne,  but  an  infamous  fact. 

Apel.    He  might  do  it,  because  he  was  a  God.  15 

Camp.    Nay,  therefore  it  was  euill  done,  because  he  was  a  God. 

Apel.    This  is  Danae,  into  whose  prison  lupiter  drisled  a  golden 
shewre,  and  obtained  his  desire. 

Camp.    What  Gold  can  make  one  yeelde  to  desire  ? 

Apel.    This  is  Europa,  whom  lupiter  rauished ;  this  Antiopa.  20 

Camp.    Were  al  the  Gods  like  this  lupiter  ? 

Apel.    There  were  many  Gods  in  this  like  lupiter. 

Camp.    I  thinke  in  those  dayes  loue  was  wel  ratified  among  men 
on  earth,  when  lust  was  so  ful  authorised  by  the  Gods  in  heauen. 

Apel.    Nay,  you  may  imagine  there  wer  wome  passing  amiable,  25 
when  there  were  Gods  exceeding  amorous. 

Camp.    Were  women  neuer  so  faire,  me  wold  be  false. 

Apel.    Were  wome  neuer  so  false,  men  wold  be  fond. 

Camp.    What  counterfeit  is  this,  Apelles  ? 

Apel.    This  is  Venus^  the  Goddesse  of  loue.  30 

Camp.    What,  be  there  also  louing  Goddesses  ? 

Apel.    This  is  she  that  hath  power  to  commaunde  the  very  affec 
tions  of  the  heart. 

10  loue  Q*  Bl.  mods. :  loue  QQ*  s         17  drisled  QQ* s :  driz'ed  Q*  Bl.  Dods.  F. 
18  shewre  QQZS:  showre  <9*  ,#/.  F. :  shower  Dods.  19  What,  can  gold  1744: 

What !  gold  can  1780,  1825         base  bef.  desire  1744  24  fully  Dods. 


sc.  m]  CAMPASPE  337 

Camp.    How  is  she  hired  :  by  praier,  by  sacrifice,  or  bribs  ? 
35      ApeL    By  praier,  sacrifice,  and  bribes. 

Camp.    What  praier  ? 

ApeL   Vowes  irreuocable. 

Camp.    What  sacrifice  ? 

Apel.    Heartes  euer  sighing,  neuer  dissembling. 
40      Camp.    What  bribes  ? 

ApeL    Roses  and  kisses  :  but  were  you  neuer  in  loue  ? 

Camp.    No,  nor  loue  in  me. 

ApeL   Then  haue  you  iniuried  many. 

Camp.    How  so  ? 
45      Apel.    Because  you  haue  beene  loued  of  many. 

Camp.    Flattered  parchance  of  some. 

ApeL  It  is  not  possible  that  a  face  so  faire,  &  a  wit  so  sharpe,  both 
without  comparison,  shuld  not  be  apt  to  loue. 

Camp.    If  you  begin  to  tip  your  tongue  with  cunning,  I  pray  dip 

50  your  pensil  in  colours ;  and  fall  to  that  you  must  doe,  not  that  you 

would  doe.  {  The  curtains  close. ) 

SCH^ENA  QUARTA. — {The  Palace  (with  two  transfers,  at  IL  40 
and  $>]).) 

CLYTUS,  PARMENIO,  ALEXANDER,  HEPHESTION,  CRISUS, 
DIOGENES,  APELLES,  CAMPASPE. 

{Enter  CLITUS  and  PARMENIO.) 

Clitus.  Parmenio,  I  cannot  tel  how  it  commeth  to  passe,  that  in 
Alexander  now  a  daies  there  groweth  an  vnpatiet  kinde  of  life :  in 
the  morning  he  is  melancholy,  at  noone  solomne,  at  all  times  either 
more  sower  or  seuere,  then  he  was  accustomed. 

5  Par.  In  kinges  causes  I  rather  loue  to  doubt  then  coniecture,  and 
think  it  better  to  be  ignoraunt  then  inquisitiue  :  they  haue  long  eares 
and  stretched  armes,  in  whose  heades  suspition  is  a  proofe,  and  to  be 
accused  is  to  be  condemned. 

Clitus.    Yet  betweene  vs  there  canne  be  no  danger  to  finde  out 

10  the  cause  :  for  that  there  is  no  malice  to  withstand  it.     It  may  be  an 

vnquenchable  thirste  of  conquering  maketh  him  vnquiet :  it  is  not 

vnlikly  his  long  ease  hath  altred  his  humour  :  that  he  should  bee  in 

loue,  it  is  not  impossible. 

43  iniuried  old  eds. :  injured  Dads.  F.  s.  D.  [The  curtains  close]  no  direc 

tion/or  exit  in  previous  eds*  13  not  om.  Bl.  F. 


338  CAMPASPE  [ACT  nr 

Par.  In  loue  Clytus  ?  no,  no,  it  is  as  farre  from  his  thought,  as 
treason  in  ours ;  he  whose  euer  waking  eye,  whose  neuer  tyred  15 
heart,  whose  body  patient  of  labour,  whose  mind  vnsatiable  of 
victory,  hath  alwayes  bin  noted,  cannot  so  soone  be  melted  into 
the  weak  conceites  of  loue.  Aristotle  told  him  there  were  many 
worlds,  &  that  he  hath  not  conquered  one  that  gapeth  for  al,  galleth 
Alexander.  But  here  he  commeth.  20 

{Enter  ALEX,  and  HEPHAEST.) 

Alex.  Parmenio,  and  Clitus,  I  would  haue  you  both  redy  to  go 
into  Persia  about  an  ambassage  no  lesse  profitable  to  me,  then  to  your 
selues  honourable. 

Clitus.  We  are  ready  at  all  commaundes;  wishing  nothing  els, 
but  continually  to  be  commaunded.  .  25 

Alex.  Well,  then  withdraw  your  selues,  till  I  haue  further  con 
sidered  of  this  matter. 

Exeunt  CLYTUS  <j-  PARMENIO. 

Alex.  Now  we  wil  see  how  Apelles  goeth  forward  :  I  doubt  me 
that  nature  hath  ouercome  arte,  &  her  countenance  his  cunning. 

Hep.    You  loue,  and  therefore  think  any  thing.  30 

Alex.  But  not  so  far  in  loue  with  Campaspe^  as  with  Bucephalus, 
if  occasion  serue  either  of  coflicte  or  of  conquest. 

Hep.  Ocasion  cannot  want,  if  wil  doe  not.  Behold  all  Persia 
swelling  in  the  pride  of  their  owne  power  :  the  Scithians  carelesse 
what  courage  or  fortune  can  do :  the  Aegiptians  dreaming  in  the  35 
southsayings  of  their  Augures,  and  gaping  ouer  the  smoak  of  their 
beasts  intralles.  All  these  Alexander,  are  to  bee  subdued,  if  that 
world  be  not  slipped  out  of  your  head,  which  you  haue  sworne  to 
conquere  with  that  hand. 

{During  the  following  speech  the  tub  is  thrust  on,  from  which 
appears  DIOGENES,  to  whom  enter  CRYSUS.  } 

Alex.  I  confesse  the  labours  fit  for  Alexander,  and  yet  recreation  40 
necessary  among  so  many  assaults,  bloudye  wounds,  intollerable 
troubles :  giue  mee  leaue  a  litle,  if  not  to  sitte,  yet  to  breath.  And 
doubt  not  but  Alexander  can,  when  he  wil,  throw  affections  as  farre 
from  him  as  he  can  cowardise.  But  behold  Diogenes  talking  with 
one  at  his  tub.  45 

Crysus.    One  penny  Diogenes,  I  am  a  Cynick. 

15  in]  from  Dods.         tried  QQ23          36  Auguries  QQZZ        40  labour's 
and  mods.  43  affections  old  eds.  Dods. :  his  affections  F, 


sc.  iv]  CAMPASPE  339 

Diog.    He  made  thee  a  begger,  that  first  gaue  thee  any  thing. 

Crysus.    Why,  if  thou  wilt  giue  nothing,  no  body  will  giue  thee. 

Diog.    I  want  nothing,  till  the  springs  dry,  &  the  earth  perish. 
50      Crysus.    I  gather  for  the  Gods. 

Diog.    And  I  care  not  for  those  gods  which  want  money. 

Crysus.    Thou  art  a  right  Cynicke  that  will  giue  nothing. 

Diog.    Thou  art  not,  that  will  beg  any  thing. 

Crysus.   Alexander,  King  Alexdder,  giue  a  poore  Cynick  a  groat. 
55      Alex.    It  is  not  for  a  king  to  giue  a  groat. 

Crysus.   Then  giue  me  a  talent. 

Alex.    It  is  not  for  a  begger  to  aske  a  talent.    A  waye !      Apelles  ? 

{The  curtains    open,  discovering  the  studio  with  APELLES    and 
CAMPASPE.  ) 

Apel    Here. 

Alex.    Now  Gentlewomanne,  doeth  not  your  beauty  put  the  painter 
60  to  his  trump  ? 

Camp.    Yes  my  Lorde,  seeing  so  disordered  a  countenaunce,  he 
feareth  he  shall  shadow  a  deformed  counterfeit. 

Alex.    Wold  he  could  colour  the  life  with  the  feature.     And  me 

thinketh  Apelles,  were  you  as  cuning  as  report  saith  you  are,  you 

65  may  paint  flowers  aswell  with  sweete  smels,  as  fresh  colours,  obseru- 

ing   in   your   mixture   such   things  as  should  draw  neere  to   their 

•  sauours. 

Apel.   Your  maiestie  must  know,  it  is  no  lesse  harde  to  paint 
sauours,  the  vertues ;  colours  can  neither  speake  nor  think. 
70      Alex.    Where  doe  you  first  begin,  when  you  drawe  any  picture  ? 
Apel.    The  proposition  of  the  face  in  iust  compasse,  as  I  can. 
Alex.    I  would  begin  with  the  eie,  as  a  light  to  all  the  rest. 
Apel.    If  you  will  paint,  as  you  are  a  king,  your  Maiestie  may 
beginne  where  you  please ;  but  as  you  wold  be  a  painter,  you  must 
75  begin  with  the  face. 

Alex.    Aurelius  would  in  one  houre  colour  four  faces. 
Apel.    I  meruaile  in  half  an  houre  he  did  not  foure. 
Alex.    Why,  is  it  so  easie  ? 
Apel.    No,  but  he  doth  it  so  homely. 
80      Alex.    When  will  you  finish  Campaspe  ? 

52  a  QQ  Dods. :  not  a  Bl.  F.  Kelt.  52,  53  will  QQZS  :   wilt  Q*  Bl.  mods. 

57  A  waye!]  after  this  word,  QQZ*  mods,  place  a  full  stop,  Qs  a  comma,  BL  no 
stop          s.  D.  [The  curtains  open,  &c.]  See  note  71  proposition]  proportion. 

<23  rest 

Z  2 


340  CAMPASPE  [ACTIH 

Apel.  Neuer  finishe  :  for  alwayes  in  absolute  bewtie  there  is  som- 
what  aboue  arte. 

Alex.    Why  should  not  I  by  labour  bee  as  cunning  as  Apelles  1 

Apel.  God  shield  you  should  haue  cause  to  be  so  cunning  as 
Apelles!  85 

Alex.  Me  thinketh  4.  colours  are  sufficiet  to  shadow  any  counter 
ance,  &  so  it  was  in  the  time  of  Phydias. 

Apel.    The  had  me"  fewer  fancies,  &  wome"  not  so  many  fauors. 
For  now,  if  the  haire  of  her  eie  browes  be  black,  yet  must  the  haire 
of  her  head  be  yellowe :  the  attire  of  her  head  must  be  different  90 
from  the  habit  of  her  body,  els  must  the  picture  seeme  like  the  blason 
of  auncient  armorie,  not  like  the  sweet  delight  of  new  found  amiable-     - 
nes.      For  as  in  garden  knottes  diuersitie  of  odours  make  a  more 
sweet  sauor,  or  as  in  musicke  diuers  strings  cause  a  more  delicate 
consent,   so  in  painting,   the  more  colours,  the  better  counterfeit,  95 
obseruing  blacke  for  a  ground,  and  the  rest  for  grace. 

Alex.  Lend  me  thy  pensil  Apelles,  I  will  paint,  &  thou  shalt 
iudge. 

Apel.    Here. 

Alex.    The  coale  breakes.  100 

Apel.    You  leane  too  hard. 

Alex.    Now  it  blackes  not. 

Apel.    You  leane  too  soft. 

Alex.    This  is  awry. 

Apel.    Your  eie  goeth  not  with  your  hand.  105 

Alex.    Now  it  is  worse. 

Apel.    Your  hand  goeth  not  with  your  mind. 

Alex.    Nay,  if  al  be  too  hard  or  soft,  so  many  rules  and  regardes, 
that  ones  hand,  ones  eie,  ones  minde  must  all  draw  together,  I  had 
rather  bee  setting  of  a  battell  then  blotting  of  a  boord.      But  how  no 
haue  I  done  heere  ? 

Apel.    Like  a  king. 

Alex.  I  thinke  so :  but  nothing  more  vnlike  a  Painter,  Wei 
Apelles,  Campaspe  is  finished  as  I  wish,  dismisse  her,  and  bring 
presently  her  counterfeit  after  me.  115 

Apel    I  will. 

{ALEX,  and  HEPH.  come  from  the  studio.} 

Alex.    Now  Hephestion,  doth  not  this  matter  cotton  as  I  would? 

'     86  4.  QQ*3:  four  Q4  rest  91  mttst  QQ"*3:    would  Q*  Bl.  mads.  no 

boord  Bl.  F. :  bourd  QQ  :  board  Dods.  rest  114  and  om.        ** 


sc.iv]  CAMPASPE  341 

Campctspe  looketh  pleasauntlye,  liberty  wil  encrease  her  bewty,  &  my 
loue  shall  aduaunce  her  honour. 

120      Hep.    I  will  not  contrary  your  maiestie,  for  time  must  weare  out 
that  loue  hath  wrought,  and  reason  weane  what  appetite  noursed. 

(CAMPASPE  comes  from  the  studio.) 

Alex.    How  stately  she  passeth  bye,  yet  how  soberly !   a  sweet 
consent  in  her  countenance  with  a  chast  disdaine,  desire  mingled 
with  coynesse,  and  I  cannot  tell  how  to  tearme  it,  a  curst  yeelding 
125  modestie! 

Hep.    Let  her  passe. 

Alex.    So  she  shall  for  the  fairest  on  the  earth.  Exeunt. 


SCH^ENA  QUINTA. — {The  same.) 

PSYLLUS,  MANES,  APELLES. 
(  Enter  PSYLLUS  and  MANES.  ) 

Psyllus.    I  shalbe  hanged  for  tarying  so  long. 

Manes.    I  pray  God  my  maister  be  not  flowne  before  I  come. 

Psyllus.    Away  Manes !  my  maister  doth  come. 

{Exit  MANES.     APELLES  comes  from  the  studio,) 
Apel.    Where  haue  you  bin  all  this  while  ? 
5      Psyllus.    No  where  but  heere. 

Apel.    Who  was  here  since  my  comming  ? 
Psyllus.    No  body. 

Apel.    Vngratious  wag,  I  perceiue  you  haue  beene  a  loytering  :  was 
Alexander  no  body? 
10      Psyllus.    He  was  a  king,  I  meant  no  meane  body. 

Apel.    I  will  cogell  your  body  for  it,  and  then  will  I  say  it  was 
no  bodie,  because  it  was  no  honeste  body.     Away  in  ! 

Exit  Psyllus. 

Vnfortunate  Apelles,  and  therfore  vnfortunate  beecause  Apelles ! 
Hast  thou  by  drawing  her  bewty  broght  to  passe  that  thou  canst 
15  scarse  draw  thine  own  breath?  And  by  so  much  the  more  hast  thou 
encreased  thy  care,  by  how  much  the  more  thou  hast  shewed  thy 
cuning :  was  it  not  sufficient  to  behold  the  fire  and  warme  thee,  but 
with  Satyrus  thou  must  kisse  the  fire  and  burne  thee  ?  O  Campaspe, 

124  curst]  curteous  1744  6  since  QQ**  1744:  sithens  Q*  Bl.  F.  Kelt.'. 

sithence  1780  rest  14  that]  yfc  Q3  16  hast  before  thou  hast  Bl. 


342  CAMPASPE  [ACT  HI 

Campaspe,  arte  must  yeeld  to  nature,  reason  to  appetite,  wisdom  to 
affection.     Could  Pigmalion  entreate  by  prayer  to  haue  his  luory  20 
turned  into  flesh  ?  and  cannot  Apelles  obtaine  by  plaints  to  haue  the 
picture  of  his  loue  chaunged  to  life  ?     Is  painting  so  farre  inferiour 
to  earning?  or  dost  thou    Venus,  more  delight  to  be  hewed  with 
Chizels,  then   shadowed   with  colours?   what  Pigmalyon,  or  what 
Pyrgoteles,  or  what  Lysippus  is  hee,  that  euer  made  thy  face  so  fayre,  25 
or  spread  thy  fame  so  farre  as  I  ?  vnlesse,  Venus,  in  this  thou  enuiest 
mine  arte,  that  in  colouring  my  sweete  Campaspe,  I  haue  left  no  place 
by  cunning  to  make  thee  so  amiable.     But  alas  !  she  is  the  paramour 
to  a  prince.   Alexander  the  monarch  of  the  earth  hath  both  her  body 
and  affection.     For  what  is  it  that  kinges  cannot  obtaine  by  praiers,  30 
threates  and  promises?     Wil  not  she  think  it  better  to  sit  vnder 
a  cloth  of  estate  like  a  queene,  then  in  a  poore  shop  like  a  huswife  ? 
and  esteme  it  sweeter  to  be  the  concubine  of  the  Lord  of  the  world, 
then  spouse  to  a  painter  in  Athes?    Yes,  yes,  Apelles,  thou  maist 
swimme  against  the  streame  with  the  Crab,  and  feede  against  the  35 
winde  with  the  deere,  and  pecke  against  the  steele  with  the  Cocka 
trice  :  starres  are  to  be  looked  at,  not  reched  at :  princes  to  bee 
yeelded  vnto,  not  contended  with :  Campaspe  to  bee  honored,  not 
obtained,    to   be   painted,    not   possessed   of  thee.      O    fair    face ! 
O  vnhappy  hand  !  &  why  didst  thou  draw  it  so  faire  a  face  ?     O  4° 
bewtifull   countenance,  the   expresse  image  of   Venus,  but   sowhat 
fresher :  the  only  pattern  of  that  eternitie,  which  lupiter  dreaming 
of  aslepe,  could  not  conceiue  again  wakig.     Blush  Venus,  for  I  am 
ashamed  to  end  thee.     Now  must  I  paint  things  vnpossible  for  mine 
arte,  but  agreeable  with  my  affections :  deepe  and  hollowe  sighes,  45 
sadde  and  melancholye  thoughtes,  wounds  and  slaughters  of  con- 
ceites,  a  life  posting  to  death,  a  death  galloping  from  life,  a  wauering 
constancie,  an  vnsetled  resolution,  and  what  not,  Apellest     And 
what  but  Apelles  ?     But  as  they  that  are  shaken  with  a  feuer  are  to 
bee  warmed  with   clothes,  not  groanes,  &  as  he   that  melteth  in  50 
a  consumption  is  to  bee  recured  by  Colices,  not  conceites :  so  the 
feeding  caker  of  my  care,  the  neuer  dying  worm  of  my  hart,  is  to  be 
killed  by  cousel,  not  cries,  by  applying  of  remedies,  not  by  replying 
of  reasons.     And  sith  in  cases  desperat  there  must  be  vsed  medicines 
that  are  extreme,  I  wil  hazard  that  litle  life  that  is  left,  to  restore  the  55 

24  Pigmalyon  so  all,  but  see  note  28  pararamour  Q3  31   shee  not  F. 

39  obtained,  the  comma  first  in  Q3  not]  nor  Q*  43  of  otn.  Q*  BL 

mods.  49  but]  no  ed.  prints  a  comma  53  of  om.  Dods. 


sc.  v]  CAMPASPE  343 

greater  part  that  is  lost,  &  this  shalbe  my  first  practise  :  for  wit  must 
work,  where  authoritie  is  not.  Assoone  as  Alexander  hath  viewed 
this  portraiture,  I  will  by  deuise  giue  it  a  blemish,  that  by  that 
meanes  she  may  come  again  to  my  shop ;  and  then  as  good  it  were 
60  to  vtter  my  loue,  and  die  with  deniall,  as  conceale  it,  &  Hue  in 

despaire. 

SONG  BY  APELLES, 

/~*Vpid  and  my  Campaspe  playd 

At  Gardes  for  kisses,  Cupid  payd ; 

He  stakes  his  Quiuer,  Bow,  £  Arrows, 
65  His  Mothers  doues,  &  teeme  of  sparows; 

Looses  them  too ;  then,  downe  he  throwes 

The  corrall  of  his  lippe,  the  rose 

Growing  on's  cheek  (but  none  knows  how), 

With  these,  the  cristall  of  his  Brow, 
70  And  then  the  dimple  of  his  chinne : 

All  these  did  my  Campaspe  winne. 

At  last,  hee  set  her  both  his  eyes ; 

Shee  won,  and  Cupid  blind  did  rise. 

O  Loue !   has  shee  done  this  to  Thee  ? 
75  What  shall  (Alas!)  become  of  mee? 

(Exit.) 


ACTUS   QUARTUS 

SCH^ENA  PRIMA. — (The  Market-place,  with  DIOGENES'  tub.) 

SOLINUS,    PSYLLUS,    GRANICHUS,    MANES,    DlOGENES,    PopuluS. 

(Enter  SOLINUS,  PSYLLUS,  GRANICHUS.) 

Soli.  This   is  the  place,  the  day,  the   time,  that  Diogenes  hath 
appointed  to  flye. 

Psyllus.    I  will  not  loose  the  flight  of  so  faire  a  fowle  as  Diogenes 
is,  though  my  maister  cogel  my  no  bodie,  as  he  threatned. 
5       Gran.   What  Psyllus,  will  the  beaste  wag  his  winges  to-day  ? 

Psyllus.    We  shall  heare  :  for  here  commeth  Manes :  Manes  will 

Jt  be?  (Enter  MANES.) 

Manes.    Be  ?  he  were  best  be  as  cunning  as  a  Bee,  or  else  shortly 
he  will  not  be  at  all. 

S.D.  Song  by  Apelles  BL  who  alone  of  old  eds.  gives  the  words:  The  Song  QQ: 
A  Song  1744  without  giving  it  71  All  Bl.  1780,  1825  :  And  F.  73  At 

Bl.  1780,  1825:  And  F. 


344  CAMPASPE  [ACT  iv 

Gran.   How  is  he  furnished  to  fly?  hath  he  feathers?  10 

Manes.  Thou  art  an  asse  !  Capons,  Geese,  &  Owles  haue  feathers. 
He  hath  found  Dedalus  old  waxen  wings,  and  hath  beene  peecing 
them  this  moneth,  he  is  so  broade  in  the  shoulders.  O  you  shall  see 
him  cut  the  ayre  euen  like  a  Tortoys. 

Sol.    Me  thinkes  so  wise  a  man  should  not  be  so  mad,  his  body  15 
must  needes  be  to  heauy. 

Manes.  Why,  hee  hath  eaten  nothing  this  seuennight  but  corke 
and  feathers. 

Psyllus  {aside).   Tutch  him  Manes. 

Manes.    He  is  so  light,  that  he  can  scarse  keepe  him  from  flying  20 
at  midnight. 

Populus  intrat. 

Manes.  See  they  begin  to  flocke,  and  behold  my  mayster  bustels 
himselfe  to  flye.  (DIOGENES  comes  out  of  his  tub.) 

Diog.   Yee  wicked  and  beewitched  Atheneans,  whose  bodies  make 
the  earth  to  groane,  and  whose  breathes  infect  the  aire  with  stench.  25 
Come  ye  to  see  Diogenes  fly  ?    Diogenes  commeth  to  see  you  sinke  ! 
yee  call  me  dog :  so  I  am,  for  I  long  to  gnaw  the  boanes  in  your 
skins.  -  Yee  tearme  me  an  hater  of  menne  :  no,  I  am  a  hater  of  your 
maners.     Your  Hues  dissolute,  not  fearing  death,  will  proue  your 
deaths  desperate,  not  hoping  for  life  :  what  do  you  els  in  Athens  but  3° 
sleepe  in  the  day,    and  surfeite  in  the  night :   back  Gods   in  the 
morning  with  pride,  in  the  euening  belly  Gods  with  gluttonie  !     You 
flatter  kings,  &  call  them  Gods  :  speake  trueth  of  your  selues,  & 
confesse  you  are  diuels  !     From  the  Bee  you  haue  taken  not  the 
honney,  but  the  wax  to  make  your  religion,  framing  it  to  the  time,  35 
not  to  the  trueth.      Your  filthy  luste  you  colour  vnder  a  courtly 
colour  of  loue,  iniuries  abroad  vnder  the  title  of  pollicies  at  home, 
and  secrete  malice  creepeth  vnder  the  name  of  publick  iustice.    You 
haue  caused  Alexander  to  dry  vp  springs  &  plant  Vines,  to  sow  roket 
and  weede  endiffe,  to  sheare  sheepe,  and  shrine  foxes.     Al  coscience  40 
is  sealed  at  Athens.     Swearing  commeth  of  a  hot  mettal :  lying  of 
a  quick  wit :  flattery  of  a  flowing  tongue :  vndecent  talk  of  a  mery 
disposition.    Al  things  are  lawfull  at  Athens.    Either  you  thinke  there 

19  Touch  Q*  rest  20  Manes]  Manichus  1780:  Granichus  1825  24 

You  Q^B  I.  1744  F.  Kelt.         24-5  whose  . . . ,  and  cm.  1 744          27  yee  QQ :  yea 
BL  F.  Kelt. :  you  Dods.        28  Yee  old  eds.  1780  F. :  You  1744 :  Yet  1825  36 

colour]  cover  Dods.  37  pass  bef.  vnder  1744  39  rocket  Q4  BL  mods. 

41  sealed  all  old  eds.  F.  Kelt.-,    seared  Dods.  mettle  Q4  Bl.  F.  Kelt.',  metal 

Dods. 


sc.  i]  CAMPASPE  345 

are  no  Gods,  or  I  must  think  ye  are  no  men.  You  build  as  though 
45  you  should  Hue  for  euer,  and  surfet  as  though  you  should  die  to 
morow.  None  teacheth  true  Phylosophy  but  Aristotle,  because  he 
was  the  kings  schoolemaister  !  O  times  !  O  menne  !  O  coruption 
in  manners  !  Remember  that  greene  grasse  must  turne  to  dry  hay. 
When  you  sleep,  you  are  not  sure  to  wake ;  and  when  you  rise,  not 
50  certeine  to  tye  downe.  Looke  you  neuer  so  hie,  your  heads  must 
lye  leuell  with  your  feete.  Thus  haue  I  flowne  ouer  your  disordered 
Hues,  and  if  you  wil  not  amend  your  manners,  I  wil  study  to  fly 
further  from  you,  that  I  may  be  neerer  to  honesty. 

Sol.   Thou  rauest  Diogenes,  for  thy  life  is  different  from  thy  words. 
.65  Did  not  I  see  thee  come  out  of  a  brothel  house  ?  was  it  not  a  shame  ? 

Diog.   It  was  no  shame  to  go  out,  but  a  shame  to  goe  in. 

Gran.    It  were  a  good  deede  Manes,  to  beate  thy  maister. 

Manes.  You  were  as  good  eate  my  maister. 

One  of  the  people.    Hast  thou  made  vs  all  fooles,  and  wilt  thou 
60  not  flye  ? 

Diog.    I  tell  thee  vnlesse  thou  be  honest,  I  will  flye. 

People.    Dog  !  dog  !  take  a  boane  ! 

Diog.    Thy  father  neede  feare  no  dogs,  but  dogs  thy  father. 

People.  We  wil  tel  Alexander,  that  thou  reprouest  him  behinde 
65  his  back. 

Diog.   And  I  will  tell  him,  that  you  flatter  him  before  his  face. 

People.   We  wil  cause  al  the  boyes  in  the  streete  to  hisse  at  thee. 

Diog.    Indeede  I  thinke  the  Athenians  haue  their  children  ready 
for  any  vice,  because  they  be  Athenians. 
70      Manes.   Why  maister,  meane  you  not  to  flye  ? 

Diog.    No  Manes,  not  without  wings. 

Manes.   Euery  body  will  account  you  a  lyar. 

Diog.    No,  I  warrant  you  :  for  I  will  alwaies  say  the  Athenians  are 
mischieuous. 

75      Psyllus.    I  care  not,  it  was  sport  ynogh  for  me  to  see  these  old 
huddles  hit  home. 

Gran.   Nor  I. 

Psyllus.   Come,  let  vs  goe,  and  hereafter  when  I  meane  to  raile 
vpon  any  body  openly,  it  shall  be  giuen  out,  I  will  flye.          Exeunt. 

47  the  kings  schoolemaister  '  altered  without  authority  by  Dods.  to  the  king  of 
school-masters '  (Fairhol?) 


346  CAMPASPE  [ACT  iv 

SCH^NA  SECUNDA. — {Room  in  APELLES'  House,  as  before.) 
CAMPASPE,  APELLES. 

Campaspe  sola.  Campaspe,  it  is  hard  to  iudge  whether  thy  choice 
be  more  vnwise,  or  the  chaunce  vnfortunate.  Doest  thou  preferre — 
but  stay,  vtter  not  that  in  woordes,  which  maketh  thine  eares  to  glow 
with  thoughts.  Tush  !  better  thy  tongue  wagge,  then  thy  heart  break  ! 
Hath  a  painter  crept  further  into  thy  mind  then  a  Prince  ?  Apelles  5 
the  Alexander  ?  Fond  wench !  the  basenes  of  thy  mind  bewraies 
the  meannesse  of  thy  birth.  But  alas  !  affection  is  a  fyre  which 
kindleth  as  well  in  the  bramble  as  in  the  oake,  &  catcheth  hold  where 
it  first  lighteth,  not  where  it  may  best  burne.  Larkes  that  mount 
aloof  in  the  ayre,  build  their  neastes  below  in  the  earth ;  and  women  10 
that  cast  their  eies  vpon  kinges,  may  place  their  hearts  vpon  vassals. 
A  needle  will  become  thy  fingers  better  then  a  Lute,  and  a  distaffe 
is  fitter  for  thy  hand  then  a  Scepter.  Ants  Hue  safely,  til  they  haue 
gotten  wings,  &  Juniper  is  not  blowne  vp  till  it  hath  gotten  an  hie 
top.  The  meane  estate  is  without  care,  as  long  as  it  continueth  15 
without  pride.  But  here  commeth  Apelles^  in  whom  I  woulde  there 
were  the  like  affection. 

{Enter  APELLES.) 

Apel.    Gentlewoman,  the  misfortune  I  had  with  your  picture,  wil 
put  you  to  some  paines  to  sitte  againe  to  be  painted. 

Camp.    It  is  smal  paines  for  me  to  sit  still,  but  infinit  for  you  to  20 
draw  still. 

Apel.   No  Madame,  to  painte  Venus  was  a  pleasure,  but  to  shadowe 
the  sweete  face  of  Campaspe  it  is  a  heauen ! 

Camp.    If  your  tongue  were  made  of  the  same  flesh  that  your  heart 
is,  your  wordes  would  bee  as  your  thoughtes  are  :  but  such  a  common  25 
thing  it  is  amogst  you  to  commed,  that  oftentimes  for  fashion  sake 
you  cal  the  beautifull,  whom  you  know  black. 

Apel.   What  might  men  doe  to  be  beleeued  ? 

Camp.    Whet  their  tongues  on  their  heartes. 

Apel.   So  they  doe,  and  speake  as  they  thinke.  30 

Camp.   I  would  they  did  ! 

Apel.   I  would  they  did  not ! 

Camp.    Why,  would  you  haue  them  dissemble  ? 

2  the]  thy  Q*  rest  10  aloof  Q2:    aloft  QQ3*  Bl.  mods.  S.D.  [Enter 

APELLES]  supplied  by  Reed  1780  29  tongues  QQ  Dods.:  tongue  Bl.  F.  Kelt. 


sc.  ii]  CAMPASPE  34} 

Apel.   Not  in  loue,  but  their  loue.     But  wil  you  giue  me  leaue  to 
35  aske  you  a  question  without  offence  ? 

Camp.   So  that  you  wil  aunswere  me  an  other  without  excuse. 

Apel.   Whom  do  you  loue  best  in  the  world  ? 

Camp.    He  that  made  me  last  in  the  world. 

Apel.   That  was  a  God. 

40  Camp.  I  had  thought  it  had  beene  a  man.  But  whome  do  you 
honour  most,  Apelles  j3 

Apel.   The  thing  that  is  lykest  you,  Campaspe. 

Camp.   My  picture  ? 

Apel.   I  dare  not  venture  vpon  your  person.     But  come,  let  vs  go 
45  in  :  for  Alexander  will  thinke  it  long  till  we  returne. 

Exeunt  {into  the  studio). 

SCH^ENA  TERTIA. — (Room  in  the  Palace) 
(Enter)  CLYTUS,   PERMENIO. 

Clitus.   We  heare  nothing  of  our  Embassage,  a  colour  belike  to 

bleare  our  eyes,  or  ticle  our  eares,  or  inflame  our  heartes.     But  what 

doth  Alexander  in  the  meane  season,  but  vse  for  Tantara,  Sol.  Fa. 

La,  for  his  harde  couch,  downe  beddes,  for  his  handfull  of  water, 

5  his  starfdinge  Cup  of  wine  ? 

Par.  Clytus,  I  mislike  this  new  delicacie  &  pleasing  peace  :  for 
what  els  do  we  se  now  then  a  kind  of  softnes  in  euery  mans  mind ; 
Bees  to  make  their  hiues  in  soldiers  helmets  ;  our  steedes  furnished 
with  foote  clothes  of  gold,  in  steede  of  saddles  of  steele ;  more  time 

10  to  bee  required  to  scoure  the  rust  of  our  weapons,  the  there  was 
woot  to  be  in  subdewing  the  countries  of  our  enemies.  Sithence 
Alexander  fell  from  his  harde  armour  to  his  softe  robes,  beholde  the 
face  of  his  court :  youthes  that  were  woont  to  carry  deuises  of  victory 
in  their  shieldes,  engraue  now  posies  of  loue  in  their  ringes :  they 

15  that  were  accustomed  on  trotting  horses  to  charge  the  enimy  with 
a  launce,  now  in  easie  coches  ride  vp  &  downe  to  court  Ladies; 
in  steede  of  sword  and  target  to  hazard  their  Hues,  vse  pen  and 
paper  to  paint  their  loues.  Yea,  such  a  feare  and  faintnes  is 
growne  in  courte,  that  they  wish  rather  to  heare  the  blowing  of 

20  a  home  to  hunt,  the  the  sound  of  a  trumpet  to  fight !  O  Phillip, 
wert  thou  aliue  to  see  this  alteration,  thy  men  turned  to  wome, 

8  to]  do  QQ1'9  :  om.  1744        are  bef.  furnished  Dods.  10  to  bee]  is  Dods. 

of]  off  Dods. 


348  CAMPASPE  [ACT  iv 

thy  soldiers  to  louers,  gloues  worne  in  veluet  caps,  in  steede  of  plumes 
in  grauen  helmets,  thou  wouldest  ether  die  among  them  for  sorrow, 
or  confound  them  for  anger. 

Clitus.    Cease  Permenio,  least  in  speaking  what  becommeth  thee  25 
not,  thou   feele   what  liketh   thee  not :   truth  is   neuer  without   a 
scratcht  face,  whose  togue  although  it  cannot  be  cut  out,  yet  must  it 
be  tied  vp. 

Par.  It  grieueth  me  not  a  little  for  Hephestion,  whoe  thirsteth  for 
honour,  not  ease  :  but  such  is  his  fortune  &  neerenesse  in  friendship  30 
to  Alexander^  that  he  must  lay  a  pillowe  vnder  his  head,  when  he 
would  put  a  targette  in  his  hand.  But  let  vs  draw  in,  to  see  how  well 
it  becomes  them  to  tread  the  measurs  in  a  daunce,  that  were  wont  to 
sette  the  order  for  a  march.  Exeunt. 

SCH^ENA    QUARTA. (APELLES'    StttdtO.) 

APELLES,  CAMPASPE  {discovered). 

ApeL    I  haue  now,  Campaspe,  almost  made  an  ende. 

Camp.    You  tolde  me,  Apelles,  you  would  neuer  ende. 

ApeL    Neuer  end  my  loue  :  for  it  shal  be  eternal. 

Camp.    That  is,  neither  to  haue  beginning  nor  ending. 

ApeL    You  are  disposed  to  mistake,  I  hope  you  do  not  mistrust.      5 

Camp.    What  will  you  saye  if  Alexander  perceiue  your  loue  ? 

ApeL    I  will  say  it  is  no  treason  to  loue. 

Camp.    But  how  if  he  wil  not  suffer  thee  to  see  my  person  ? 

ApeL    Then  will  I  gase  continually  on  thy  picture. 

Camp.    That  will  not  feede  thy  heart.  10 

ApeL  Yet  shall  it  fill  mine  eye  :  besides  the  sweete  thoughtes,  the 
sure  hopes,  thy  protested  faith,  wil  cause  me  to  imbrace  thy  shadow 
continually  in  mine  armes,  of  the  which  by  strong  imagination  I  will 
make  a  substaunce. 

Camp.    Wei,  I  must  be  gon :  but  this  assure  your  self,  that  I  had  T  5 
rather  bee  in  thy  shop  grinding  colours,  then  in  Alexanders  court, 
following  higher  fortunes. 

Campaspe  alone. 

Foolish  wensh,  what  hast  thou  done  ?  that,  alas  !  which  cannot  be 
vndone,  and  therefore  I  feare  me  vndone.  But  content  is  such 

22  veluet,  caps  QQZ  8  23  either  Q4  rest  24  counfound  Bl.  F.          12 

thy2]  the  1744  17  fortune  1744  s.  D.  Campaspe  alone  all eds.,  i.e.  she 

comes  from  the  studio  and  the  curtains  close  behind  her:  Dods.  prefixes  Exit  APELLES 


sc.  iv]':  CAMPASPE  349 

20  a  lif,  I  care  not  for  aboundance.  O  Apelles,  thy  loue  commeth  from 
the  heart,  but  Alexanders  from  the  mouth.  The  loue  of  Kinges  is 
like  the  blowinge  of  windes,  whiche  whistle  sometimes  gentlye 
amonge  the  leaues,  and  straight  wayes  turne  the  trees  vp  by  the 
rootes ;  or  fire  which  warmeth  a  farre  off,  and  burneth  neere  hand ; 

25  or  the  sea,  which  maketh  men  hoyse  their  sayles  in  a  flattering 
calme,  and  to  cut  their  mastes  in  a  rough  storme.  They  place 
affection  by  times,  by  pollicie,  by  appointment ;  if  they  frowne,  who 
dares  cal  them  vnconstant  ?  if  bewray  secretes,  who  will  tearme  them 
vntrue?  if  fall  to  other  loues,  who  trembles  not,  if  he  call  them 

30  vnfaithfull  ?  In  kinges  there  can  be  no  loue,  but  to  Queenes :  for 
as  neere  must  they  meete  in  maiestie,  as  they  doe  in  affection. 
It  is  requisite  to  stande  aloofe  from  kinges  loue,  loue,  and 
lightening.  Exit. 

SCHENA  QUINTA. — {The  same.) 
APELLES,  Page. 

{Enter  APELLES  from  the  studio.) 

Ape  1.  Now  Apelles,  gather  thy  wits  together  :  Campaspe  is  no  lesse 
wise  then  fayre,  thy  selfe  must  bee  no  lesse  cunning  then  faithfull. 
It  is  no  small  matter  to  be  riuall  with  Alexander. 

{Enter  Page.) 

Page.  Apelles,  you  must  come  away  quicklye  with  the  picture; 

5  the  king  thinketh  that  now  you  haue  painted  it,  you  play  with  it. 

Apel.  If  I  would  play  with  pictures,  I  haue  ynough  at  home. 

Page.  None  parhaps  you  like  so  well. 

Apel.  It  may  be  I  haue  painted  none  so  well. 

Page.  I  haue  knowne  many  fairer  faces. 

10      Apel.  And  I  many  better  boyes.  Exeunt. 

19-20  But  content  .  .  .  aboundance  om.  1825,  as  noted  by  F.  25  makes  Dods. 
Sayles]  scales  Q*  10  boyes]  Gilchrist  in  edt  1825  needlessly  queries  toys 


350  CAMPASPE  [ACT  v 

ACTUS   QUINTUS 

SCH^ENA  PRIMA. — {The  Market-place,  with  DIOGENES'  tub.) 
(Enter,  to)  DIOGENES,  SYLUIUS,  PERIM,  MILO,  TRICO,  MANES. 

Sylvi.    I  haue  brought  my  sons,  Diogenes,  to  be  taught  of  thee. 

Diog.    What  can  thy  sonnes  doe  ? 

Syl.    You  shall  see  their  qualities  :  Daunce,  sirha ! 

Then  PERIM  daunceth. 

How  like  you  this  ?  doth  he  well  ? 

Diog.    The  better,  the  worser.  5 

Syl.    The  Musicke  very  good. 

Diog.    The  Musitions  very  badute  ;  who  onelye  study  to  haue  their 
stringes  in  tune,  neuer  framing  their  manners  to  order. 
Syl.    Now  shall  you  see  the  other.     Tumble,  sirha  ! 

MILO  tumble th. 

How  like  you  this  ?  why  do  you  laugh  ?  10 

Diog.  To  see  a  wagge  that  was  born  to  break  his  neck  by  distinie, 
to  practise  it  by  arte. 

Milo.    This  dogge  will  bite  me,  I  will  not  be  with  him. 

Diog.    Feare  not  boy,  dogges  eate  no  thistles. 

Perim.    I  maruel  what  dog  thou  art,  if  thou  be  a  dog.  15 

Diog.  When  I  am  hungry,  a  mastyue,  and  whe  my  belly  is  full, 
a  spaniell. 

Syl.  Doest  thou  beleeue  that  there  are  any  gods,  that  thou  art  so 
dogged  ? 

Diog.    I  must  needs  beleeue  there  are  gods :  for  I  think  thee  an  20 
enimie  to  them. 

Syl.    Why  so  ? 

Diog.  Because  thou  hast  taught  one  of  thy  sonnes  to  rule  his 
legges,  and  not  to  follow  learning ;  the  other  to  bend  his  body  euery 
way,  and  his  minde  no  way.  25 

Perim.    Thou  doest  nothing  but  snarle,  and  barke  like  a  dogge. 

Diog.    It  is  the  next  way  to  driue  away  a  theefe. 

Syl.  Now  shall  you  heare  the  third,  who  singes  like  a  Nightin- 
gall. 

17  spannell  Bl.  F.  28  signes  QQ*S 


sc.i]  CAMPASPE  351 

30      Diog.    I  care  not :  for  I  haue  heard  a  Nightingall  sing  her  selfe. 
Syl.    Sing,  sirha ! 

TRICO  singeth. 

SONG.  ^ 

VX/'Hat  Bird  so  sings,  yet  so  dos  wayle? 
O  t'is  the  rauish'd  Nightingale. 

lug,  lug,  lug,  lug,  tereu,  shee  cryes, 
35  And  still  her  woes  at  Midnight  rise. 

Braue  prick  song!   who  is't  now  we  heare  ? 

None  but  the  Larke  so  shrill  and  cleare; 

How  at  heauens  gats  she  claps  her  wings, 

The  Morne  not  waking  till  shee  sings. 
40  Heark,  heark,  with  what  a  pretty  throat 

Poore  Robin  red-breast  tunes  his  note ; 

Heark  how  the  iolly  Cuckoes  sing 

Cuckoe,  to  welcome  in  the  spring, 

Cuckoe,  to  welcome  in  the  spring. 

45      Syl.    Loe  Diogenes!  I  am  sure  thou  canst  not  doe  so  much. 

Diog.    But  there  is  neuer  a  Thrush  but  can. 

Syl.    What  hast  thou  taught  Manes  thy  man  ? 

Diog.    To  be  as  vnlike  as  may  be  thy  sonnes. 

Manes.   He  hath  taught  me  to  fast,  lye  hard,  &  runne  away. 
50      Syl.    How  sayest  thou  Perim,  wilte  thou  bee  with  him  ? 

Perim.    I,  so  he  will  teache  me  first  to  run  away. 

Diog.    Thou  needest  not  be  taught,  thy  legges  are  so  nimble. 

Syl.    How  sayest  thou  Milo,  Wilte  thou  bee  with  hym  ? 

Diog.    Nay,  holde  your  peace,  he  shal  not. 
55      Syl.    Why? 

Diog.    There  is  not  roome  enough  for  him  and  mee  both  to  tumble 
in  one  tub. 

Syl.    Well    Diogenes,    I    perceaue  my   sonnes    brooke    not   thy 
manners. 
60      Diog.    I  thought  no  lesse,  when  they  knewe  my  vertues. 

Syl.    Farewel  Diogenes,  thou  neededst  not  haue  scraped  rootes,  if 
thou  wouldest  haue  followed  Alexander. 

Diog.   Nor  thou  haue  followed  Alexader,  if  thou  hadst  scraped 
roots.  Exeunt. 

30  heard  om.  Z?/.,  -whence  F.  Kelt,  insert  to  before  sing  s.  D.  TRYCO  singeth. 

SONG  so  Bl.  who  alone  of  old  eds.  gives  the  words.      QQ  1744  TRICO  singeth 
merely  $6  to  tumble  both  Q*  Bl.  mods. 


353  CAMPASPE  [ACTV 

SCH,ENA  SECUNDA.  —  (The  same.) 

APELLES  alone. 

I  feare  me  Apelles,  that  thine  eies  haue  blabbed  that,  which  thy 
tongue  durst  not.  What  little  regard  hadst  thou  !  whilst  Alexander 
viewed  the  conterfeite  of  Campaspe,  thou  stoodest  gazing  on  her 
countenaunce  !  If  he  espie  or  but  suspect,  thou  must  needes  twice 
perish,  with  his  hate,  and  thine  owne  loue.  Thy  pale  lookes  when  5 
he  blushed,  thy  sadde  countenaunce  when  hee  smiled,  thy  sighes 
when  he  questioned,  may  breede  in  him  a  ielosie,  perchaunce 
a  frenzye.  O  loue  !  I  neuer  before  knewe  what  thou  wert,  and  nowe 
haste  thou  made  mee  that  I  know  not  what  my  selfe  am?  Onely 
this  I  knowe,  that  I  must  endure  intolerable  passions,  for  vnknowne  10 
pleasures.  Dispute  not  the  cause,  wretch,  but  yeeld  to  it  :  for  better 
it  is  to  melt  with  desire,  then  wrastle  with  loue.  Cast  thy  selfe  on 
thy  carefull  bedde,  be  content  to  lyue  vnknowne,  and  die  vnfounde. 
O  Campaspe,  I  haue  painted  thee  in  my  heart  :  painted  ?  nay, 
contrary  e  to  myne  arte,  imprinted,  and  that  in  suche  deepe  15 
Characters,  that  nothing  can  rase  it  out,  vnlesse  it  rubbe  my  heart 
out.  Exit. 


TERTIA.  —  (The  same.) 
(Enter)  MILECTUS,  PHRIGIUS,  LAYS,  {to)  DIOGENES  (in  his  tub). 

Mil.    It  shal  go  hard,  but  this  peace  shall  bring  vs  some  pleasure. 

Phry.  Downe  with  armes,  and  vp  with  legges,  this  is  a  world  for 
the  nonce. 

Lais.  Sweete  youthes,  if  you  knew  what  it  were  to  saue  your 
sweete  bloud,  you  would  not  so  foolishly  go  about  to  spend  it.  5 
What  delight  can  there  be  in  gashinge,  to  make  foule  scarres  in 
faire  faces,  &  crooked  maimes  in  streight  legges?  as  though  men 
being  borne  goodlye  by  nature,  would  of  purpose  become  deformed  by 
follye  ;  and  all  forsooth  for  a  new  found  tearme,  called  valiant,  a  word 
which  breedeth  more  quarrelles  then  the  sense  can  commendation,  10 

Mil.  It  is  true  Lays,  a  featherbed  hath  no  fellow,  good  drinke 
makes  good  bloud,  and  shall  pelting  words  spill  it  ? 

2-4  thou  !  .  .  .  Campaspe,  .  .  .  countenaunce  !]  thou,  .  .  .  Campaspe  ?  .  .  .  counte 
naunce.  Q'2  P.;  and  1780,  1825,  exc.  Campaspe!:  thou,.  .  .Campaspe,  .  .  .  counten 
aunce?  QQ3*  Bl.  1744  ;  and  Kelt.  exc.  countenance  !  16  my  Dods.  foil,  by  F. 

for  thy  of  old  eds.  3  nonce  here  the  collation  of  Q*  ends,  the  remaining  four 

leaves  in  the  Dyce  copy  being  mounted  from   Q*  and  signed  G  instead  of  F   as 
required  in  QQZ3.     Our  text  follows  Q3  to  end  of  'play  4  know  Bl. 


sc.  in]  CAMPASPE  353 

Phry.    I  meane  to  inioy  the  world,  and  to  draw  out  my  life  at  the 
wiredrawers,  not  to  curtail  it  off  at  the  Cuttelers. 

i 5  Lais.  You  may  talke  of  warre,  speake  bigge,  conquer  worldes 
with  great  wordes :  but  stay  at  home,  where  in  steede  of  Alarums 
you  shall  haue  daunces,  for  hot  battelles  with  fierce  menne,  gentle 
Skirmishes  with  fayre  womenne.  These  pewter  coates  canne  neuer 
sitte  so  wel  as  satten  dublets.  Beleeue  mee,  you  cannot  conceaue 
20  the  pleasure  of  peace,  vnlesse  you  despise  the  rudenesse  of  warre. 

Mil.    It  is  so.     But  see  Diogenes  prying  ouer  his  tubbe  :  Diogenes, 
what  sayest  thou  to  such  a  morsel  ? 

Diog.    I  say,  I  would  spit  it  out  of  my  mouth,  because  it  should 
not  poyson  my  stomack. 

25      Phry.  Thou  speakest  as  thou  art,  it  is  no  meate  for  dogges. 
Diog.    I  am  a  dogge,  and  Phylosophy  rates  mee  from  carion. 
Lais.    Vnciuill  wretch,   whose  manners  are  aunswerable  to   thy 
callynge,  the  time  was  thou  wouldest  haue  hadde  my  company,  had 
it  not  beene,  as  thou  saidst,  too  deare. 

3°  Diog.  I  remember  there  was  a  thinge  that  I  repented  me  of,  and 
now  thou  haste  told  it :  indeed  it  was  to  deare  of  nothing,  and  thou 
deare  to  no  bodye. 

Lais.    Downe,  villaine,  or  I  wil  haue  thy  head  broken ! 
Mil.    Will  you  couch  ? 

35  Phry.  Auaunt,  curre !  Come  sweete  Lays,  let  vs  go  to  some 
place  and  possesse  peace.  But  first  let  vs  sing,  there  is  more  pleasure 
in  tuning  of  a  voyce,  then  in  a  volly  of  shotte.  {Song.) 

Mil,    Now  let  vs  make  haste,  least  Alexander  finde  vs  here. 

Exeunt. 

SCH^ENA  QUARTA. — (The  same.} 

ALEXANDER,  HEPHESTION,  Page,  DIOGENES, 
APELLES,  CAMPASPE. 

(Enter  ALEXANDER,  HEPHAESTION  and  Page.) 

Alex.    Mee  thinketh,  Hephestion,  you  are  more  melancholy  then 

you  were  accustomed ;  but  I  perceiue  it  is  all  for  Alexander.     You 

can  neither  brooke  this  peace,  nor  my  pleasure ;  be  of  good  chearer 

though  I  winke,  I  sleepe  not. 

5      Hep.    Melancholy  I  am  not,  nor  well  content :  for  I  know  not 

36  let  vs  sing]  neither  QQ  BL  nor  mods,  give  song  nor  any  stage-direction  for  it 
BOND  ii  A  a 


354  CAMPASPE  [ACT  v 

how,  there  is  such  a  rust  crept  into  my  bones  with  this  long  ease,  that 
I  feare  I  shal  not  scowre  it  out  with  infinite  labours. 

Alex.    Yes,  yes,  if  all  the  trauails  of  conquering  the  world  will  set 
either  thy  body  or  mine  in  tune,  wee  will  vndertake  them.     But 
what  think  you  of  Apelles?     Did  ye  euer  see  any  so  perplexed?  10 
Hee  neither  aunswered  directly  to  any  question,  nor  looked  stedfastly 
vppon  anye  thing.     I  hold  my  life  the  Painter  is  in  loue. 

Hep.  It  may  be :  for  commonly  we  see  it  incident  in  artificers  to 
be  inamoured  of  their  own  workes,  as  Archidamus  of  his  woodden 
Doue,  Pigmalyon  of  his  iuorie  Image,  Arachne  of  his  wodde  swan;  15 
especially  painters,  who  playing  with  their  owne  conceits,  now 
coueting  to  draw  a  glaucing  eie,  then  a  rolling,  now  a  wincking,  stil 
mending  it,  neuer  ending  it,  til  they  be  caught  with  it ;  and  then 
poore  soules  they  kisse  the  colours  with  their  lippes,  with  which 
before  they  were  loth  to  taint  their  fingers.  20 

Alex.  I  wil  finde  it  out :  page,  goe  speedely  for  Apelles,  wil  him 
to  come  hither,  and  when  you  see  vs  earnestly  in  talke,  sodenly  cry 
out  Apelles  shoppe  is  on  fire  ! 

Page.    It  shalbe  done. 

Alex.    Forget  not  your  lesson.  (Exit  Page.)  25 

Hep.    I  maruaile  what  your  deuice  shalbe. 

Alex.    The  euent  shall  proue. 

Hep.    I  pittie  the  poore  painter,  if  he  be  in  loue. 

Alex.  Pittie  him  not,  I  pray  thee :  that  seuere  grauity  set  aside, 
what  do  you  think  of  loue  ?  30 

Hep.  As  the  Macedonians  doe  of  their  hearbe  Beet,  which  loking 
yellow  in  the  ground,  and  blacke  in  the  hand,  thinke  it  better  scene 
then  toucht. 

Alex.    But  what  do  you  imagine  it  to  be  ? 

Hep.    A  word  by  superstition  thought  a  god,  by  vse  turned  to  an  35 
humour,  by  selfwil  made  a  flattering  madnesse. 

Alex.  You  are  too  hard  harted  to  think  so  of  loue.  Let  vs  go  to 
Diogenes.  Diogenes,  thou  maist  think  it  somwhat  that  Alexander 
commeth  to  thee  againe  so  soone. 

Diog.    If  you  come  to  learne,  you  could  not  come  soone  enough ;  40 
if  to  laugh,  you  be  come  to  soone. 

Hep.  It  would  better  become  thee  to  be  more  curteous,  and  frame 
thy  selfe  to  please. 

Diog.    And  you  better  to  be  lesse,  if  you  durst  displease. 
15  Arachne  so  all 


•sc.iv]  CAMPASPE 


355 


45      Alex.    What  dost  thou  think  of  the  time  we  haue  here  ? 

Diog.    That  we  haue  little,  and  lose  much. 

Alex.    If  one  be  sick,  what  wouldest  thou  haue  him  do  ? 

Diog.    Be  sure  that  he  make  not  his  Phisition  his  heire. 

Alex.    If  thou  mightest  haue  thy  wil,  how  much   groud  would 
50  content  thee  ? 

Diog.    As  much  as  you  in  the  ende  must  be  contented  withall. 

Alex.    What,  a  world? 

Diog.    No,  the  length  of  my  body. 

Alex.    Hephestion,  shal  I  be  a  litle  pleasant  with  him  ? 
55      Hep.    You  may  :  but  he  will  be  very  peruerse  with  you. 

Alex.    It  skilleth  not,   I  cannot  be  angry  with  him.     Diogenes, 
I  pray  thee,  what  doost  thou  think  of  loue  ? 

Diog.    A  little  worser  then  I  can  of  hate. 

Alex.    And  why? 

60      Diog.    Because  it  is  better  to  hate  the  thinges  whiche  make  to  loue, 
the  to  loue  the  things  which  giue  occasion  of  hate. 

Alex.    Why,  bee  not  women  the  best  creatures  in  the  world? 

Diog.    Next  men  and  Bees. 

Alex.    What  dost  thou  dislyke  chiefly  in  a  woman?' 
65      Diog.    One  thing. 

Alex.    What? 

Diog.    That  she  is  a  woman. 

Alex.    In  mine  opinion  thou  wert  neuer  born  of  a  woman,  that 

thou  thinkest  so  hardly  of  wome.     But  now  cometh  Apelles,  who 

70  I  am  sure  is  as  far  from  thy  thoght,  as  thou  art  fro  his  cunning. 

Diog.  I  will  haue  thy  cabin  remoued  nerer  to  my  court,  bicause  I  wilbe 

a  philosopher. 

Diog.    And  when  you  haue  done  so,  I  pray  you  remoue  your 
court  further  from  my  cabinne,  because  I  wil  not  be  a  courtier. 

(Enter  APELLES.) 

75      Alex.    But  here  commeth  Apelles.     Apelles ,  what  peece  of  worke 
haue  you  in  hand  ? 

Apel.    None  in  hand,  if  it  like  your  maiestie :  but  I  am  deuising 
a  platforme  in  my  head. 

Alex.    I  think  your  hand  put  it  in  your  head.     Is  it  nothing  about 
So  Venus  ? 

48  Mere  Qs  51  whitall  Q*  56  skilleth  Q*  1780, 1825  :  skills  Q*  Bl.  1744 
F.  Kelt.  70  thogt  Qs :  thoughts  Q4  Bl.  mods.  s.  D.  [Enter  APELLES]  stip- 
plied  by  Reed  1780  76  in  hand  Q3 :  now  in  hand  Q*  Bl.  mods.  79  in]  into  Dads. 

A  a  2 


356  CAMPASPE  [ACTV 

(Re-enter  Page.) 

ApeL    No,  but  some  thing  aboue  Venus. 

Page.   Apelles,  Apelles,  looke  about  you,  your  shop  is  on  fire  ! 

ApeL    Ay   me!    if  the   picture   of  Campaspe   be    burnt,    I   am 
vndone ! 

Alex.    Stay  Apelles,  no  hast :  it  is  your  hart  is  on  fire,  not  your  85 
shop ;  &  if  Camp,  hang  ther,  I  wold  she  were  burnt.     But  haue  you 
the  picture  of  Campaspe  ?     Belike  you  loue  her  wel,  that  you  care 
not  thogh  al  be  lost,  so  she  be  safe. 

ApeL    Not  loue  her :  but  your  Maiestie  knowes  that  painters  in 
their  last  works  are  said  to  excel  themselues,  and  in  this  I  haue  9° 
so   much   pleased   my  selfe,  that  the  shadow  as  much  delighteth   - 
mee   being   an   artificer,  as   the   substaunce   doth  others   that  are 
amorous. 

Alex.    You  lay  your  colours  grosely;  though  I  could  not  paint  in 
your  shop,  I  ca  spy  into  your  excuse.     Be  not  ashamed  Apelles,  it  is  95 
a  Gentlemans  sport  to  be  in  loue.     (To  Attendants.)     Call  hither 
Campaspe.      Me   thinks  I  might   haue   bin   made   priuie   to   your 
affection  \   though   my   counsell   had   not  bene  necessary,   yet  my 
countenance  might  haue  bin  thought  requisite.     But  Apelles,  for 
sooth,  loueth  vnder  hand,  yea  &  vnder  Alexanders  nose,  and — but  100 
I  say  no  more. 

ApeL    Apelles  loueth  not  so  :  but  he  liueth  to  do  as  Alexander  will. 

(Enter  CAMPASPE.) 

Alex.    Campaspe,  here  is  newes.     ApeL  is  in  loue  with  you. 

Camp.    It  pleaseth  your  maiestie  to  say  so. 

Alex,  (aside).    Hephestion,  I  wil  tryeher  to. — Campas.  for  the  good  105 
qualities  I   know  in  Apelles,   and   the  vertue    I  see  in  you,   I  am 
determined  you  shal  enioy  one  the  other.     How  say  you  Campaspe^ 
would  you  say  I  ? 

Camp.    Your  handmaid  must  obey,  if  you  commaund. 

Alex,  (aside).    Think  you  not,  Hephestion,  that  she  wold  faine  be  no 
commaunded  ? 

Hep.    I  am  no  thought  catcher,  but  I  gesse  vnhappily. 

Alex,  (to  CAMP.).    I  will  not  enforce  manage,  where  I  cannot  copel 
loue. 

81  aboue  Q*  mods. :  about  Q3  Bl.          82  about  QQ  mods.  :  aboue  Bl.          100 
loueth  old  eds. :  lov'd  Dods.  s.  D.  [Enter  CAMPASPE]  supplied  by  Reed  1780 

107  the  other  Q3 :  another  Q*  Bl.  mods.  « 


sc.  iv]  CAMPASPE  557 

115      Camp.    But  your  maiestie  may  moue  a  question,  where  you  be 
willing  to  haue  a  match. 

Alex.  Beleeue  me,  Hephestion,  these  parties  are  agreed,  they 
would  haue  me  both  priest  and  witnesse.  Apelles,  take  Campaspe : 
why  moue  ye  not  ?  Campaspe,  take  Apelles  :  wil  it  not  be  ?  If  you 
1 20  be  ashamed  one  of  the  other,  by  my  consent  you  shal  neuer 
come  togeather.  But  dissemble  not  Campaspe,  do  you  loue 
Apelles ? 

Camp.    Pardon  my  Lord,  I  loue  Apelles  ! 

Alex.    Apelles,  it  were  a  shame  for  you,  being  loued  so  openly  of 
125  so  faire  a  virgin,  to  say  the  contrary.     Doe  you  loue  Campaspe  ? 
Apel.    Onely  Campaspe! 

Alex.    Two  louing  wormes,  Hephestion!     I  perceiue   Alexander 

cannot   subdue   the   affections    of    men,    though    he   coquer   their 

countries.     Loue  falleth  like  dew  aswel  vpo  the  low  grasse,  as  vpon 

130  the  high  Caeder.     Sparkes  haue  their  heate,  Antes  their  gall,  Flyes 

their  splene.     Well,   eioy  one   an   other,  I  giue  her  thee  frackly, 

Apelles.     Thou  shalt  see  that  Alexander  maketh  but  a  toye  of  loue, 

and  leadeth  affection  in  fetters ;  vsing  facy  as  a  foole  to  make  him 

sport,  or  a  minstrell  to  make  him  mery.     It  is  not  the  amorous 

135  glauce  of  an  eie  can  settle  an  idle  thought  in  the  heart ;  no,  no,  it  is 

childrens  game,  a  life  for  seamsters  and  scholers ;  the  one  pricking 

in  cloutes  haue  nothing  els  to  thinke  on,  the  other  picking  fancies 

out  of  books,  haue  little  els  to  meruaile  at.     Go  Apelles,  take  with 

you  your  Campaspe ',  Alexander  is  cloied  with  looking  on  that  which 

140  thou  wondrest  at. 

Apel.    Thankes   to   your   maiestie   on    bended   knee,    you   haue 
honoured  Apelles. 

Camp.    Thankes  with  bowed  heart,  you  haue  blessed  Campaspe. 

Exeunt  (APELL.  and  CAMP.). 

Alex.    Page,  goe  warne  Clitus  and  Parmenio  and  the  other  Lordes 
145  to  be  in  a  readines,  let  the  trumpet  sound,  strike  vp  the  drumme,  and 
I  will  presently  into  Persia.     How  now  Hephestion, \s>  Alexander  able 
to  resiste  loue  as  he  list  ? 

Hep.    The  conquering  of  Thebes  was  not  so  honourable  as  the 
subdueing  of  these  thoughts. 
150      Alex.    It  were  a  shame  Alexander  should  desire  to  commaund  the 


128  he  cm.  Q*  Bl.  129  dew  Q3:   a  dew  Q*  Bl.  mods.  145  a  oia. 

Dods. 


358  CAMPASPE  [ACT  v,  sc.  iV 

world,  if  he  could  not  commaund  himselfe.  But  come,  let  vs  go, 
I  wil  try  whether  I  can  better  beare  my  hand  with  my  hart,  then 
I  could  with  mine  eie.  And  good  Hephestion,  when  al  the  world  is 
woone,  and  euery  countrey  is  thine  and  mine,  either  find  me  out 

an  other  to  subdue,  or  of  my  word  I  wil  fall  in  loue.  155 

Exeunt.    ' 

152  beare  om.  1825  hand  with  my  hart  so  all;  qy.  ?  heart  with  my  hand  as 

r744  J55  <&  old  eds. :  on  mods.,  though  F.  prefers  of 


THE   EPILOGUE   AT   THE   BLACKE    FRYERS 

Where  the  Rainebowe  toucheth  the  tree,  no  Caterpillers  wii 
hang  on  the  leaues  :  where  the  Gloworm  creepeth  in  the 
night,  no  Addar  wil  goe  in  the  day.     We  hope  in  the  eares  where 
our  trauails  be  lodged,  no  carping  shal  harbour  in  those  tongues. 
5  Our  exercises  must  be  as  your  iudgment  is,  resembling  water,  which 
is  alwaies  of  the  same  colour  into  what  it  runneth. 

In  the  Troiane  horse  lay  couched  soldiers,  with  childre,  and  in 
heapes  of  many  words  we  feare  diuerse  vnfitte,  among  some  allow 
able.     But  as  Demosthenes  with  often  breathing  vp  the  hill  amended 
10  his  stammering,  so  wee  hope  with  sundry  labours  against  the  haire, 
to  correcte  our  studies.     If  the  tree  be  blasted  that  blossomes,  the 
faulte  is  in  the  wind,  and  not  in  the  roote ;  and  if  our  pastimes  be 
misliked,  that  haue  bin  allowed,  you  must  impute  it  to  the  malice  of 
others,  and  riot  our  endeuour.     And  so  wee  rest  in  Good  case  if  you 
J5  rest  well  content. 


THE   EPILOGUE   AT    THE   COURT 

WE  cannot  tell  whether  we  are  fallen  among  Diomedes  birds  or 
his  horses ;  the  one  receiued  some  men  with  sweet  notes, 
the  other  bitte  al  men  with  sharp  teeth.  But  as  Homers  Gods 
conueied  them  into  clouds,  whom  they  would  haue  kept  from 
curses,  and  as  Venus ^  least  Adonis  shuld  be  pricked  with  the  stings  5 
of  Adders,  couered  his  face  with  the  winges  of  Swans;  so  we  hope, 
being  shielded  with  your  highnesse  countenaunce,  wee  shall,  though 
heare  the  neighing,  yet  not  feele  the  kicking  of  those  iades,  and 
receiue,  though  no  praise  (which  we  cannot  deserue)  yet  a  pardon, 
which  in  all  humilytie  we  desire.  As  yet  we  cannot  tell  what  we  10 
should  tearme  our  labours,  yron  or  bullyon;  only  it  belongeth  to 
your  Maiestie  to  make  them  fitte  either  for  the  forge,  or  the  mint, 
currant  by  the  stampe,  or  counterfeit  by  the  Anuil.  For  as  nothing 
is  to  be  called  whit,  vnles  it  had  bin  named  white  by  the  firste 
creator,  so  can  there  be  nothing  thought  good  in  the  opinion  of  15 
others,  vnlesse  it  be  christened  good  by  the  iudgement  of  your  selfe. 
For  our  selues  againe,  we  are  those  torches  waxe,  of  whiche  being  in 
your  highnesse  handes,  you  may  make  Doues  or  Vultures,  Roses  or 
Nettles,  Lawrell  for  a  garland,  or  elder  for  a  disgrace. 

FINIS. 


8  Dods.  and  mods,  insert  we  before  heare  15  creator  Dods.  mods. :  creature 

QQ34  Bl.  17  those  torches  waxe  Qs  :    like  these  torches  of  waxe  Q*  BL  F. 

Kelt. :  like  these  torches,  wax,  Dods.. 


SAPHO  AND  PHAO 


EDITIONS 

*6to  Aprilis  1584  Thomas  cadman  Lyllye  yt  is  graunted  vnto  him  yat  yf  he  gett 
ye  commedie  of  Sappho  laufully  alowed  vnto  him.  Then  none  of  this  cumpanie 
shall  Interrupt  him  to  enjoye  yt  .  .  .  .  vjd.'  (Sta.  Reg.  ed.  Arb.  ii.  430.) 

Q1.  Sapho  and  Phao,  \  Played  beef  ore  the  \  Queenes  Maiestie  on  Shroue-\tewsday , 
by  her  Maiesties  \  Children,  and  the  Boyes  \  of  Paules.  \  <ft  Imprinted  at  London  \ 
for  Thomas  Cadman.  \  1584.  | 

[Colophon]  Imprinted  at  London  by  Thomas  \  Dawson,for  Thomas  Cadman.  \ 
4to.  A-G  2  in  fours,  G  2  verso  blank.  (Brit.  Afus.) 

Cadman  ceased  to  publish  in  1589,  and  his  rights  in  this  play  and  Campaspe 
evidently  passed  to  William  Broome,  who  published  an  edition  of  both  in  1591. 
The  Stationers'  Register,  however,  contains  no  record  of  the  transfer  earlier  than 
that  of  April  12,  1597,  which  enters  both  plays  and  two  other  books,  '  The  which 
copies  were  Thomas  Cadmans,'  to  Broome's  widow,  Joan  :  see  entry  quoted  under 
'  Editions'  of  Campaspe  from  Sta.  Reg.  ed.  Arber,  iii.  82. 

Q2.  Sapho  and  Phao,  \  Played  beefore  the  \  Queenes  maiestie  on  Shroue  \  tewsday, 
by  her  Maiesties  \  Children,  and  the  Boyes  \  of  Paules.  \  Imprinted  at  London  by 
Thomas  \  Orivin,for  William  Broome.  \  1591.  |  4to.  A— G  2  in  fours,  G  2  verso 
blank.  No  col.  (Br.  Mus. :  Bodl. :  Dyce  Coll.  S.  Kensington.} 

On  Aug.  23,  1601,  the  play  is  transferred,  together  with  Campaspe,  Gallathea, 
Endimion,  and  Midas,  from  '  mystres  Brome  Lately  Deceased '  to  George  Potter 
(Sta.  Reg.  iii.  191,  ed.  Arb.);  and  on  Jan.  9,  1628,  is  entered  to  Blount  as  one 
of  the  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies.  (Sta.  Reg.  iv.  192.) 

Third  ed.  Sapho  \  and  \  Phao,  \  Played  before  the  Queenes  \  Maiestie  on  Shroue-\tuesday :  \ 
By  her  Maiesties  \  Children,  and  the  Chil-\dren  of  Paules.  \  London,  \  Printed 
by  William  Stansby,  \  for  Edward  Blount.  \  1632.  |  I2mo,  occupying  L  2-0 1 2  in 
twelves  of  the  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies. 

Also  in  Fairholt's  edition  of  Lyly's  Dramatic  Works,  \  858,  vol.  i. 


SAPHO  AND   PHAO 

Argument.  —  Venus,  travelling  to  Syracuse  to  reduce  the  pride  of 
queen  Sapho,  dowers  the  ferryman  Phao  with  preternatural  beauty, 
which  while  filling  his  heart  with  vague  desires  makes  him  scornful 
of  all  women,  until  a  chance  meeting  kindles  a  mutual  passion 
between  Sapho  and  himself.  The  lovesick  queen,  torn  with  the 
conflict  between  pride  and  affection,  prays  Venus'  aid,  and  mean 
while  sends  for  Phao  to  cure  with  his  simples  the  fever  she  feigns 
before  her  ladies.  Venus  meets  Phao  in  the  palace;  and  herself 
falls  a  victim  to  the  beauty  she  has  created.  Jealous  of  Sapho,  she 
cajoles  Vulcan  to  furnish  Cupid  with  special  arrows  which  may  undo 
the  work  of  his  former  shaft,  and  transfer  the  ferryman's  love  to  her 
self.  But  Cupid,  having  fulfilled  part  of  his  task  by  cooling  Sapho's 
affection,  is  won  to  betray  the  design  and  to  inspire  Phao  with  loathing 
instead  of  love  for  Venus;  nor  can  the  goddess  by  threats  or  coaxing 
disengage  her  son  from  Sapho,  with  whom  he  takes  up  his  abode, 
while  Phao  quits  Sicily  in  despair. 

Variety  is  sought  in  the  conjugal  relations  of  Venus  and  Vulcan, 
in  the  opposition  between  the  spirit  of  the  Court  and  that  of  the 
student  as  represented  by  the  two  friends  Trachinus  and  Pandion, 
in  the  sprightly  talk  of  Sapho's  ladies,  among  whom  Mileta  is  chief, 
in  the  love-precepts  given  to  Phao  by  the  crone  Sybilla,  and  in  the 
intercourse  between  the  smith  Calypho  and  a  couple  of  Pages,  which 
is  made  the  occasion  for  a  parody  of  formal  logic. 

Text  and  Bibliography.  —  The  text  followed  is  that  of  the  first 
quarto,  1584,  which  presents  the  play  in  a  singularly  perfect  state, 
with  not  more  than  half  a  dozen  errors  of  any  importance.  I  have 
corrected  all  obvious  mistakes  (one  or  two  of  them  by  Q'2),  recording 
every  change  in  the  footnotes,  I  have  emended  the  text  in  one  or  two 
places,  e.  g.  iv.  3.  46,  v.  3.  13,  have  added  the  songs  which  first  appear 
in  Blount,  and  inserted  many  necessary  stage-directions  for  entry  and 
exit,  a  matter  in  which  the  old  editions  are  always  careless.  The 
{  }  clearly  indicate  every  such  addition  to  the  original  text. 


364  SAPHO   AND   PHAO 

The  second  quarto,  1591,  has  about  a  dozen  bad  corruptions, 
half  a  dozen  of  less  importance,  and  several  indifferent  changes ; 
while  it  corrects  four  of  the  errors  of  its  predecessor,  and  in  several 
places  improves  the  punctuation. 

Blount's  edition  repeats  nearly  all  the  corruptions  of  Q-,  and 
introduces  six  bad  ones  of  its  own,  e.g.  'loue'  for  'loue,'  iv.  2.  40, 
'my  selfe '  for  the  verb  'mysell,'  iv.  3.  59,  'cold'  for  the  participle 
'coold,'  iv.  3.  89,  together  with  a  fair  number  of  misprints  and  minor 
changes  :  but  it  gives  the  songs,  and  corrects  one  or  two  mistakes. 

Fairholt,  following  Blount,  corrects  half  a  dozen  of  his  mistakes  by 
reversion  to  Q1,  but  repeats  all  the  rest  and  adds  one  or  two  of  his 
own. 

Authorship.  —  Lyly's  name  is  not  on  the  title-page,  but  appears 
in  the  first  entry  of  the  play  in  the  Stationers'  Register ;  and  his 
authorship  is  confirmed  by  the  style,  by  twelve  echoes  from 
Euphues,  and  by  Blount's  inclusion  of  the  play  among  the  Sixe  Covrt 
Comedies. 

Sources  and  Allegory.  —  He  avails  himself  of  the  classical 
legend  of  a  passion  between  Sappho  and  Phao,  which,  -appearing 
first  in  several  lost  Attic  comedies,  and  'probably  derived,'  says 
Smith,  '  from  the  story  of  the  love  of  Aphrodite  for  Adonis,  who  in 
the  Greek  version  of  the  myth  was  called  Phaethon  or  Phaon,' 
receives  beautiful  development  in  Ovid's  Epistle  (Heroid.  xv),  which 
formed  our  author's  chief  authority.  With  this  he  combines  the 
fable,  unconnected  with  Sappho,  which  is  related  in  Aelian's  Varia 
Historia,  xii.  18,  and  Palaephatus'  De  Fab.  Narrat.  lib.  i,  of  Venus' 
gift  to  Phao  of  extraordinary  beauty  on  the  occasion  of  his  ferrying 
her  across  a  strait  at  Mytilene  in  Lesbos.  Aelian's  work  had  been 
translated  by  Abraham  Fleming  with  the  title  A  registre  of  Hy  stories  ^ 
conteining  Martiall  exploites  of  worthy  warriours  .  .  .  Written  in 
Greeke  by  sElianus  a  Romane  :  and  deliuered  in  Englishe  by  Abraham 
Fleming.  .  .  .  Imprinted  at  London  .  .  .  1576  (4to,  black  letter), 
from  which,  rather  than  from  the  Greek,  I  quote  the  chapter,  and  the 
following  one  about  Sappho. 

'  U  That  Phaon  was  of  a  fayre  complexion. 

Phaon,  a  proper  youth,  excelling  al  other  in  fauour  and  comly- 
nesse,  was  hidden  of  Venus  among  long  lettisse  which  sprung  vp 
and  grew  very  rackly.  Some  holde  opinion  that  this  Phaon  was 


INTRODUCTION  365 

a  ferry  man,  and  that  he  vsed  that  trade  of  lyfe  and  exercise.  So 
it  fortuned  that  Venus  had  occasion  to  passe  ouer  the  water,  whom 
he  not  so  redely  as  willingly,  tooke  by  the  hand,  and  receiued  into 
his  whery,  and  carryed  her  ouer  with  as  great  dilligence  as  he  could 
for  his  lyfe,  not  knoying  all  this  while  what  she  was :  For  which 
dutifull  seruice  at  that  instaunt  exhibited,  Venus  bestowed  vppon 
him  an  Allablaster  box  full  of  oyntment  for  her  ferrage,  wherwith 
Phaon  washing  and  skouring  his  skin,  had  not  his  fellow  in  faire- 
nesse  of  fauour,  and  beutyful  complexion  aliue :  insomuch  that  the 
women  of  Mitylen  were  inflamed  with  the  loue  of  Phaon,  his 
comlynesse  did  so  kindle  their  affections.'  The  Greek  merely  adds 
that  he  was  afterwards  taken  in  adultery  and  killed. 

'  IF  Of  Sapho. 

Plato  the  sonne  of  Aristo,  numbreth  Sapho  the  Versifyer,  and 
daughter  of  Scamandronymus  amonge  such  as  were  wise,  lerned 
and  skilful.  I  heare  also,  that  there  was  another  Sapho  in  Lesbus  : 
which  was  a  stronge  whore,  and  an  arrant  strumpet.' 

Combining  Ovid  and  Aelian,  Lyly  makes  Venus  the  enemy  and 
rival  of  Sapho  and  protagonist  of  his  plot ;  and  amplifies  her  part 
by  introducing  her  conjugal  relations  with  Vulcan.  A  transfer  of 
the  scene  from  Lesbos  to  Sicily,  where  in  Ovid's  Epistle  Sappho 
addresses  her  lover,  enables  him  to  introduce  Vulcan's  forge  at  the 
neighbouring  Aetna,  and  suggests  the  addition  of  the  Cyclops,  not 
the  pastoral  monster  of  Homer,  but  one  of  the  smiths  of  Virgil's 
Fourth  Georgic,  11.  170-5. 

'Ac  veluti,  lentis  Cyclopes  fulmina  massis 
Cum  properant,  alii  taurinis  follibus  auras 
Accipiunt  redduntque,  alii  stridentia  tingunt 
Aera  lacu ;  gemit  impositis  incudibus  Aetna ; 
Illi  inter  sese  magna  vi  brachia  tollunt 
In  numerum,  versantque  tenaci  forcipe  ferrum :   &c. 

See  also  what  is  said  in  the  essay  on  *  Lyly  as  a  Playwright,' 
pp.  253-4;  about  Mulciber  and  his  workshop  in  Thersites,  where  he 
forges  weapons  for  the  hero ;  and  about  Venus  and  Cupid  and  the  gold- 
and  lead-headed  arrows  in  Cambyses.  And  further  Lyly  introduces 
the  Sibyl  and  her  cave  from  Ovid,  Met.  xiv.  104  sqq.1  Sybilla's 

1  In  a  show  presented  to  the  Queen  at  Woodstock,  1575,  and  printed  by 
Gascoigne  as  The  tale  of  Hemetes  the  heremyte,  1577,  in  Eng.,  Lat.,  Ital.  and  Fch., 
had  appeared  '  the  grott  of  Sibilla/  to  which  ladies  and  knights  resort  to  learn  the 
future.  (W.  C.  Hazlitt's  ed.  of  Gascoigne,  vol.  ii.  p.  143.)  See  also  what  is  said 
about  Daphne  in  Tasso's  Aminta,  in  the  Note  on  Italian  Influence,  pp.  473  sqq. 


366  SAPHO   AND   PHAO 

account  of  Apollo's  suit  of  her,  ii.  i.  50,  *  caught  up  my  handful  of 
sand,'  &c.,  is  only  to  be  paralleled  by  Ovid's  11.  132-44 ;  cf.  especially 

'Ego  pulveris  hausti 

Ostendens  cumulum,  quot  haberet  corpora  pulvis, 
Tot  mihi  natales  contingere  vana  rogavi.' 

This  medley  of  classical  suggestion  is  made  to  serve  the  author's 
main  purpose  of  flattering  the  Queen  by  an  allegorical  representation 
of  the  relations  between  herself  and  her  suitor,  the  Due  d'Alengon. 
The  idea  of  this  match,  first  mooted  by  Catherine  de'  Medici  when 
Anjou,  the  elder  brother,  showed  signs  of  cooling  in  his  suit,  was 
seriously  renewed  in  1578,  and  not  wholly  abandoned  till  1582. 
Froude's  History  (vol.  xi)  details  the  long  course  of  vacillation  and 
chicanery  by  which  Elizabeth  used  her  marriage-negotiations  in  the 
nice  balance  of  her  political  relations  with  France,  Spain,  and  the 
revolted  Netherlands.  On  Feb.  6,  1582,  Alengon  finally  quitted 
England  to  assume  the  sovereignty  of  the  United  Provinces  that 
had  been  offered  him  by  the  Prince  of  Orange,  a  sovereignty  never 
more  than  nominal,  and  soon  terminated  by  his  unsuccessful  military 
attempt  on  the  liberties  of  Antwerp  (Jan.  1583).  He  died  on 
June  9,  1584.  It  is  to  this  underlying  allegory,  clearly  alluded  to 
in  the  Prologue  at  Court  and  the  Epilogue,  especially  in  the  words 
about  *  the  necessitie  of  the  hystorie '  and  the  comparison  of  the 
whole  inconclusive  story  to  the  mazes  of  a  labyrinth,  that  the  changes 
made  in  the  classical  myth  of  Sappho  are  chiefly  due.  Hence  the 
representation  of  her  as  a  queen  with  a  Court,  and  the  suppression, 
surprisingly  and  needlessly  thorough,  of  her  poetic  fame  and  func 
tions  :  hence  the  striking  beauty  and  majesty  of  person  with  which 
she  is  dowered,  whereas  Ovid  represents  her  as  of  dark  complexion 
and  short  stature  (11.  33-6) :  hence  the  invitation  of  Phao  to  her 
Court,  her  struggle  against  her  passion  and  final  conquest  of  it : 
while  her  secure  assumption  at  the  close  of  the  prerogatives  of  Venus 
and  the  person  of  Cupid  are  in  the  happiest  vein  of  courtly  flattery. 
The  distress  and  perplexities  of  Phao,  and  his  departure  from  Sicily 
at  the  call  of  other  destinies,  are  quite  in  keeping  with  the  facts  of 
Alengon's  courtship  ;  nor  need  the  marked  ugliness  of  the  duke  dis 
qualify  him  for  the  part.  Elizabeth  had  declared  in  1579  that  'she 
had  never  seen  a  man  who  pleased  her  so  well,  never  one  whom 
she  could  so  willingly  make  her  husband'  (Froude,  xi.  155);  and 
the  courtly  poet  saw  and  seized  his  opportunity  in  the  tale  that  Love 
herself  had  made  Phao  beautiful. 


INTRODUCTION  367 

I  do  not  know  that  it  is  necessary  to  find  originals  for  any  of  the 
other  characters  :  but  Mr.  Fleay  (Biograph.  Chron.  vol.  ii.  40)  identi 
fies  Pandion,  the  university  student  newly  arrived  at  Court,  with  Lyly 
himself;  the  Sibyl  might  stand  for  Catherine  de'  Medici;  and  the 
clear  personality  of  the  witty  Mileta,  with  her  obvious  attempt  on 
Phao  in  iii.  4,  suggests  that  an  original  might  also  be  found  for  her, 
if  our  knowledge  of  the  Court  history  were  fuller. 

Date.  —  The  entry  of  the  play  in  the  Stationers'  Register,  under 
date  April  6,  1584,  supplies  us  with  a  downward  limit  for  its  com 
position,  which  must  have  been  completed  at  latest  in  1583.  The 
identification  of  Phao  with  Alengon,  and  the  latter's  departure  from 
England  on  Feb.  6,  1582,  supplies  us  with  an  upward  limit,  not  for 
its  completion,  but  for  its  performance  at  Court.  A  reference  to  the 
discussion  of  the  date  of  Campaspe  (p.  310)  will  show  that  I  identify 
this  earliest  Court  performance  with  that  on  Shrove  Tuesday,  1582 
(February  27,  says  Mr.  Fleay),  for  which  the  master  of  the  Chapel 
Children  received  payment  on  April  i  of  the  same  year  \  But,  since  the 
interval  between  February  6  and  February  27  is  altogether  too  short 
for  the  composition,  rehearsal,  and  preliminary  production  of  the  play 
at  Blackfriars,  I  am  constrained  to  believe  that  it  was  begun  a  good 
deal  earlier,  in  1581,  at  the  time  when  the  end  of  Alengon's  suit  was 
already  foreseen  or  surmised.  In  spite  of  the  marked  favour  of  his 
reception  in  August,  1579,  Elizabeth  never  really  loved  him ;  and  it 
must  soon  have  become  apparent  that  her  declarations  of  affection 
proceeded  far  more  from  her  policy  than  from  her  heart.  In 
January,  1581,  she  would  not  purchase  his  refusal  of  the  Crown  of 
the  Netherlands  by  the  definite  promise  of  her  hand ;  and  if  in  the 
autumn  she  seemed  to  hark  back  to  the  match,  and  even  on  his  visit 
in  November  presented  him  to  the  Court  as  her  chosen  husband,  yet 
she  reassured  her  ministers  by  a  mention  of  the  impossible  conditions 
she  meant  to  demand  of  France,  and  in  December  she  told  the  duke 
plainly  that  she  could  never  conquer  her  disinclination  \  It  is  quite 
conceivable  that  Lyly  began  his  play  in  the  spring  or  summer  of 
1581,  that  the  subsequent  course  of  events  kept  its  conclusion 
awhile  in  suspense,  but  that  before  the  end  of  the  year  the  issue  was 
so  far  certain  that  he  could  safely  finish  it. 

In  regard  to  the  doubt  expressed  in  the  Stationer?  Register  as  to 

1  Boswell's  Malone,  iii.  424.  3  Froude,  xi.  416,  451. 


368  SAPHO   AND   PHAO 

whether  the  printing  would  be  allowed,  it  seems  unnecessary  to 
interpret  it,  with  Mr.  Fleay,  as  evidence  of  any  royal  displeasure 
under  which  Lyly  then  rested.  Probably  it  merely  reflects  the 
licenser's  caution  in  a  matter  of  state,  which  might  even  then  >affect 
Elizabeth's  delicate  relations  with  France.  At  any  rate,  the  book 
actually  appeared  in  the  same  year,  1584. 

Place  and  Time.  —  The  attempt  at  continuity  of  scene  within  the 
single  Act  is  much  more  marked  in  this  play  than  in  Campaspe. 
Act  I  is  laid  wholly  at  the  ferry :  Act  II  wholly  before  Sybilla's  cave, 
which,  however,  from  scene  ii,  must  be  conceived  to  lie  close  to  the 
ferry :  Act  III  wholly  in  Sapho's  chamber,  including  its  ante 
chamber.  Each  of  these  Acts  contains  a  comic  scene ;  of  which 
i.  3  is,  by  the  text,  in  the  same  place  as  the  rest  of  the  Act ;  ii.  3 
might  conceivably  but  not  probably  be  so ;  while  iii.  2,  which  intro 
duces  the  smith,  must  necessarily  break  the  continuity.  It  seems  as 
though  Lyly  conceived  himself  at  liberty  to  introduce  a  comic  scene 
when  and  where  he  pleased  ;  not  changing  the  scene,  but  simply 
ignoring  the  scenic  proprieties.  Act  IV,  being  continuous  with 
Act  III,  is  therefore  also  in  Sapho's  chamber,  though  the  fourth 
scene  shifts  to  Vulcan's  forge.  Act  V  is  less  regular.  It  begins 
most  naturally  at  the  forge,  in  close  continuation  of  the  preceding 
Act ;  but,  though  neither  in  this  nor  any  other  scene  of  the  play  is 
anything  said  which  requires  us  to  suppose  the  locality  changed 
within  the  limits  of  the  scene,  yet  the  closing  words  seem  to  imply 
that  Venus  and  Cupid  have  travelled  away  from  the  forge  during 
their  talk ;  and  the  next  scene  is  laid  in  Sapho's  palace,  while  the 
third  and  last  is  again  before  Sybilla's  cave.  The  fact  that  Aetna, 
some  fifty  miles  away  from  Syracuse,  and  the  proper  site  of  Vulcan's 
forge,  is  nowhere  mentioned  in  the  play,  and  the  presence  of  the 
smith  Calypho  in  or  near  Syracuse,  may  be  taken  as  evidence  that 
Lyly  wished  to  appear  observant  of  the  Unity  of  Place. 

As  regards  Time,  the  same  latitude  is  observable  as  in  Campaspe  \ 
allusions  being  introduced,  like  that  to  Phao's  disdain  of  the  Sicilian 
ladies  (i.  4.  7-10,  ii.  4.  5),  his  two  visits  to  Sybilla  within  the  limits  of 
the  single  Act  II,  and  the  development  and  waning  of  Sapho's  passion, 
which  are  really  inconsistent  with  the  close  continuity  otherwise 
affected. 


SaphoandPhao, 


^Played  bee  fore  the 

Queencs  Maieftie  on  Shroue 
tcwfdayjby  her  M  aicfties 
Chtldren^ndthe  Bcyes 
ofPattlcs. 

John  Lflly 


Imprinted  at  London 

for  Thoraas  Cadman* 
3584* 


Bb 


(DRAMATIS   PERSON AE 

VULCAN. 

CUPID. 

PHAO,  a  young  Ferryman. 

TRACHINUS,  a  Courtier.  5 

PANDION,  a  Scholar. 

CRITICUS,  Page  to  Trachinus. 

MOLUS,  Servant  to  Pandion. 

CALYPHO,  one  of  the  Cyclops. 

VENUS.  10 

SAPHO,  Princess  of  Syracuse. 

Ml  LET  A, 

LAMIA, 

FAVILLA,       T    ,.      r  c  . ,  ,    „ 

Ladies  of  bap  ho  s  Court. 

ISMENA,  15 

CANOPE, 

EUGENUA, 

SYBILLA,  an  aged  Soothsayer. 

SCENE — Syracuse. ) 

i  DRAM.  PERS.  the  list  first  given  in  Fairholt,  -whom  I  follow         9  CALYPHO, 
one  of  the  Cyclops  Fairholt  19  SCENE— Syracuseyfr^  in  Fairholt 


The  Prologue  at  the  Black  fryers. 

WHere  the  Bee  can  suck  no  honney,  she  leaueth  her  stinge 
behinde,  and  where  the  Beare  cannot  finde  Origanum  to 
heale  his  griefe,  he  blasteth  all  other  leaues  with  his  breath.  Wee 
feare  it  is  like  to  fare  so  with  vs,  that  seeing  you  cannot  draw  from 

5  our  labours  sweete  content,  you  leaue  behinde  you  a  sowre  mislike  : 
and  with  open  reproach  blame  our  good  meaninges,  because  you 
cannot  reape  your  wonted  mirthes.  Our  intet  was  at  this  time  to 
moue  inward  delight,  not  outward  lightnesse,  and  to  breede  (if  it 
might  bee)  soft  smiling,  not  loude  laughing :  knowing  it  to  the  wise 

10  to  be  as  great  pleasure  to  heare  counsell  mixed  with  witte,  as  to  the 
foolish  to  haue  sporte  mingled  with  rudenesse.  They  were  banished 
the  Theater  at  Athens,  and  from  Rome  hyssed,  that  brought 
parasites  on  the  stage  with  apish  actions,  or  fooles  with  vnciuill 
habites,  or  Curtisans  with  immodest  words.  We  haue  endeuoured 

15  to  be  as  farre  from  vnseemely  speaches,  to  make  your  eares  glowe,  as 
wee  hope  you  will  bee  from  vnkinde  reportes  to  make  our  cheekes 
blush.  The  Griffyon  neuer  spreadeth  her  wings  in  the  sunne,  when 
she  hath  any  sick  feathers  :  yet  haue  we  ventured  to  present  our 
exercises  beefore  your  iudgements,  when  we  know  them  full  of 

20  weak  matter,  yeelding  rather  our  selues  to  the  curtesie,  which 
we  haue  euer  found,  then  to  the  precisenesse,  which  wee  ought  to 
feare. 

12  at  Q1 :  of  <22  Bl.  F.  16  bee  from  Ql :  bee  free  from  Q'z  BL  F.  17 

Griffyon  Ql :  Gryffon  Q*  BL  F.          19  exercises  /  amend  exercise  of  all  prev.  eds. 


B  b  2 


The  Prologue  at  the  Court. 

THe  Arabyas  being  stuffed  with  perfumes,  burn  Hemblock, 
a  ranck  poison  :  &  in  Hybla  being  cloid  with  honey,  they 
account  it  daintie  to  feede  on  waxe.  Your  Highnesse  eies,  whom 
varietie  hath  filled  with  fayre  showes,  and  whose  eares  pleasure  hath 
possessed  with  rare  soundes,  will  (we  trust)  at  this  time  resemble  the  5 
princely  Eagle,  who  fearing  to  surfeit  on  spices,  stoupeth  to  bite  on 
wormwood.  We  present  no  conceites  nor  warres,  but  deceites  and 
loues,  wherein  the  trueth  may  excuse  the  plainenesse  :  the  necessitie, 
the  length  :  the  poetrie,  the  bitternesse.  There  is  no  needles  point 
so  smal,  which  hath  not  his  copasse :  nor  haire  so  slender,  which  10 
hath  not  his  shadowe :  nor  sporte  so  simple,  which  hath  not  his 
showe.  Whatsoeuer  we  preset,  whether  it  be  tedious  (which  we 
feare)  or  toyishe  (which  we  doubt)  sweete  or  sowre,  absolute  or 
imperfect,  or  whatsoeuer,  in  all  humblenesse  we  all,  &  I  on  knee  for 
all,  entreate,  that  your  Highnesse  imagine  your  self  to  be  in  a  deepe  15 
dreame,  that  staying  the  conclusio,  in  your  rising  your  Maiestie 
vouchsafe  but  to  saye,  And  so  you  awakte. 

i    This  Prologue  was  printed  in  romans  1584,  italics  1591  9  needles  Q2 

BL  F. :  needelesse  Ql  10  which2  Ql :  that  Q*  Bl.  F. 


SAPHO  AND  PHAO 

ACTUS   PRIMUS 

SCH.ENA  PRIMA. — (At  the  Ferry.} 
PHAO,  VENUS,  CUPID. 

(Enter  PHAO.} 

Phao.    r  I  ^Hou  art  a  Ferriman,   Phao,  yet   a  free   man,  possess- 

X       ing  for  riches  content,  and  for  honors  quiet.     Thy 

thoughts  are  no  higher  the  thy  fortunes,  nor  thy  desires  greater  then 

thy  calling.     Who  climeth,  standeth  on  glasse,  and  falleth  on  thorne. 

5  Thy  hearts  thirste  is  satisfied  with  thy  hands  thrift,  and  thy  gentle 
labours  in  the  day,  turne  to  sweete  slumbers  in  the  night.  As  much 
doth  it  delight  thee  to  rule  thine  oare  in  a  calme  streame,  as  it  dooth 
Sapho  to  swaye  the  Scepter  in  her  braue  court.  Enuie  neuer  casteth 
her  eie  lowe,  ambition  pointeth  alwaies  vpwarde,  and  reuenge 

jo  barketh  onely  at  starres.  Thou  farest  dilicately,  if  thou  haue  a  fare 
to  buy  any  thing.  Thine  angle  is  ready,  when  thine  oar  is  idle, 
and  as  sweet  is  the  fish  which  thou  gettest  in  the  ryuer,  as  the  fowle 
which  other  buye  in  the  market.  Thou  needst  not  feare  poyson  in 
thy  glasse,  nor  treason  in  thy  garde.  The  winde  is  thy  greatest 

15  enemy,  whose   might   is   withstoode  with   pollicy.      O  sweete  life, 

seldom  found  vnder  a  golde  couert,  ofte  vnder  a  thached  cotage. 

But  here  commeth  one,  I  will  withdrawe  my  selfe  aside,  it  may  be 

a  passenger.  (Retires ',  as  enter  VENUS  and  CUPID.) 

Venus.    It  is  no  lesse  vnseemely  then  vnwholsom  for  Venus,  who 

20  is  most  honoured  in  Princes  courtes,  to  soiourne  with  Vulcan  in 
a  smithes  forge,  where  bellowes  blow  in  steede  of  sighes,  dark  smokes 
rise  for  sweet  perfumes,  &  for  the  panting  of  louing  hearts,  is  only 
heard  the  beating  of  steeled  hamers.  Vnhappy  Venus,  yt  cariing 

ACTUS  PRIMUS  ...  At  the  Ferry]  The  division  into  Acts  and  Scenes  is  that  of  the 
old  editions  and  Fairholt.  The  localities  of  the  several  scenes  are  first  marked  in 
this  10  dilicately  Ql :  delicatly  Qz  rest  23  steeled  so  all  y'  £"  : 

that  Q2  rest 


374  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  [ACT  I 

fire  in  thine  own  breast,  thou  shouldest  dwel  with  fire  in  his  forge. 
What  doth  Vulcan  all  day  but  endeuour  to  be  as  crabbed  in  maners,  25 
as  he  is  crooked  in  body  ?  driuing  nailes,  when  he  should  giue  kisses, 
and  hammering  hard  armours,  when  he  should  sing  sweete  Amors. 
It  came  by  lot,  not  loue,  that  I  was  lincked  with  him.  He  giues  thee 
bolts,  Cupid,  in  steed  of  arrowes,  fearing  belike  (iealous  foole  that 
he  is)  that  if  he  shuld  giue  thee  an  arrow  head,  he  should  make  30 
himself  a  broad  head.  But  come,  we  wil  to  Syracusa,  where  thy 
deitie  shal  be  shown,  and  my  disdaine.  I  will  yoke  the  necke,  that 
yet  neuer  bowed,  at  which,  if  loue  repine,  loue  shal  repent.  Sapho 
shal  know,  be  she  neuer  so  faire,  that  there  is  a  Venus,  which  can 
coquer,  were  she  neuer  so  fortunate.  35 

Cupid.    If  loue  espie  Sapho,  he  wil  deuise  some  new  shape  to 
entertaine  her. 

Venus.    Strike  thou  Sapho,  let  loue  deuise  what  shape  he  can. 

Cupid.    Mother,  they  say  she  hath  her  thoughtes  in  a  string,  that 
she   conquers   affections,   and   sendeth   loue  vp   and   downe   vpon  40 
arrandes ;  I  am  afraid  she  wil  yerke  me,  if  I  hit  her. 

Venus.    Peeuish  boy,  can  mortal  creatures  resist  that,  which  the 
immortall  Gods  cannot  redresse  ? 

Cupid.    The   Gods   are   amorous :    and    therefore   willing   to   be 
pearsed.  45 

Venus.    And  she  amiable,  &  therefore  must  be  pearsed. 

Cupid.    I  dare  not. 

Venus.    Draw  thine  arrow  to  the  head,  els  I  wil  make  thee  repent 
it  at  the  heart.     Come  away— and  behold  the  ferry  boy  ready  to 
conduct  vs.     (PHAO  advances.)     Prety  youth, do  you  keep  the  ferry  50 
that  bendeth  to  Syracusa  ? 

Phao.    The  ferrie,  faire  Lady,  that  bendeth  to  Syracusa. 

Venus.    I  feare  if  the  water  should  begin  to  swel,  thou  wilt  want 
cunning  to  guide. 

Phao.    These   waters  are  commonly  as  the   passengers  be,  and  55 
therefore  carying  one  so  faire  in  shew,  there  is  no  cause  to  feare 
a  rough  sea, 

Venus.    To  passe  the  time  in  thy  boate,  canst  thou  deuise  any 
pastime  ? 

Phao.    If  the  winde  be  with  me,  I  can  angle,  or  tell  tales  :  if  60 
against  me,  it  will  be  pleasure  for  you  to  see  mee  take  paines. 

28  not  QQ1*:  and  not  BL  F.  41  arrandes  QQ  :  errands  Bl.  F.  49 

away,  Q-  BL  F. :    Q?  has  no  stop 


sc.  i]  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  375 

Venus.    I  like  not  fishing  :  yet  was  I  borne  of  the  sea. 
Phao.    But  he  may  blesse  fishing,  that  caught  such  an  one  in  the 
sea. 

65      Venus.    It  was  not  with  an  angle,  my  boy,  but  with  a  nette. 
Phao.    So  was  it  said,  that  Vulcan  caught  Mars  with  Venus. 
Venus.    Didst  thou  heare  so  ?     It  was  some  tale. 
Phao.   Yea  Madame,  and  that  in  the  boate  I  didde  meane  to  make 
my  tale. 

70  Venus.  It  is  not  for  a  ferry  man  to  talk  of  the  Gods  loues  :  but  to 
tell  how  thy  father  could  dig,  and  thy  mother  spinne.  But  come,  let 
vs  away. 

Phao.    I  am  ready  to  waite.  Exeunt. 

SCH^NA  SECUNDA. — {The  same.) 

{Enter)  TRACHINUS,  PANDION,  CRYTICUS,  MOLUS. 

Trachi.  Pandion,  since  your  comming  from  the  vniuersitie  to  the 
court,  from  Athens  to  Syracusa,  how  doe  you  feele  your  self  altered 
either  in  humor  or  opinion  ? 

Pandi.    Altered  Trachinus,  I  say  no  more,  and  shame  that  any 
5  should  know  so  much. 

Trachi.  Here  you  see  as  great  vertue,  far  greater  brauery,  the 
action  of  that  which  you  cotemplate.  Sapho,  faire  by  nature,  by 
birth  royall,,  learned  by  education,  by  gouernment  politike,  rich  by 
peace :  insomuch  as  it  is  hard  to  iudge,  whether  she  be  more 

10  beautifull  or  wise,  vertuous  or  fortunate.  Beesides,  doe  you  not 
looke  on  faire  Ladies  in  steede  of  good  letters,  and  behold  faire 
fac6s  in  steed  of  fine  phrases  ?  In  vniuersities  vertues  and  vices  are 
but  shadowed  in  colours,  white  and  blacke,  in  courtes  shewed  to 
life,  good  and  bad.  There,  times  paste  are  read  of  in  old  bookes, 

15  times  present  set  downe  by  new  deuises,  times  to  come  coniectured 
at  by  aime,  by  prophesie,  or  chaunce :  here,  are  times  in  perfection, 
not  by  deuise,  as  fables,  but  in  execution,  as  trueths.  Beleeue  me 
Pandion,  in  Athens  you  haue  but  tombs,  we  in  court  the  bodies,  you 
the  pictures  of  Venus  &  the  wise  Goddesses,  we  the  persons  &  the 

20  vertues.  What  hath  a  scholler  found  out  by  study,  that  a  courtier 
hath  not  found  out  by  practise  ?  Simple  are  you  that  think  to  see 
more  at  the  candle  snuffe  then  the  sunne  beams,  to  saile  further  in 

5  so  om.  Bl.  F.  12  steeed  Ql :  stead  Bl.  F. 


376  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  [ACT  i 

a  litle  brooke,  then  in  the  maine  Ocean,  to  make  a  greater  haruest 
by  gleaning,  then  reaping.  How  say  you  Pandion,  is  not  all  this 
true?  2* 

Pandi.    Trachinus,  what  would  you  more,  all  true. 

Trachi.  Cease  then  to  lead  thy  life  in  a  study,  pinned  with 
a  fewe  boardes,  and  endeuour  to  be  a  courtier  to  liue  in  emboste 
rouffes. 

PandL    A  labour  intollerable  for  Pandion.  3° 

Trachi,    Why? 

Pandi.  Because  it  is  harder  to  shape  a  life  to  dissemble,  then  to 
goe  forward  with  the  libertie  of  trueth. 

Trachi.    Why,  do  you  thinke  in  court  any  vse  to  dissemble  ? 

Pandi.    Doe  you  knowe  in  court  any  that  meane  to  liue?  35 

Trachi.    You  haue  no  reaso  for  it,  but  an  old  reporte. 

Pandi.    Reporte  hath  not  alwaies  a  blister  on  her  tongue. 

Trachi.  I,  but  this  is  the  court  of  Sapho,  natures  miracle,  which 
resembleth  the  tree  Salurus,  whose  roote  is  fastned  vpon  knotted 
steele,  &  in  whose  top  bud  leaues  of  pure  gold.  4° 

Pandi.  Yet  hath  Salurus  blasts,  and  water  boughes,  wormes  and 
Caterpillers. 

Trachi.  The  vertue  of  the  tree  is  not  the  cause :  but  the 
Easterly  wind,  which  is  thought  commonly  to  bring  cankers  and 
rottenesse.  45 

Pandi.  Nor  the  excellencie  of  Sapho  the  occasion :  but  the 
iniquitie  of  flatterers,  who  alwaies  whisper  in  Princes  eares  suspition 
and  sowrenesse. 

Trachi.  Why,  then  you  conclude  with  me,  that  Sapho  for  vertue 
hath  no  copartner.  50 

Pandi.  Yea,  &  with  the  Judgement  of  the  world,  that  she  is  without 
comparison. 

Trachi.    We  wil  thither  streight. 

Pandi.    I  would  I  might  returne  streight. 

Trachi.   Why,  there  you  may  liue  stil.  55 

Pandi.    But  not  still. 

Trachi.    Howe  like  you  the  Ladies,  are  they  not  passing  faire  ? 

Pandi.    Mine  eie  drinketh  neither  the  colour  of  wine  nor  women. 

Trachi.    Yet   am   I   sure   that   in   iudgemente    you   are   not   so 
seuere,  but  that  you  can  be  content  to  allowe  of  bewtie  by  day  or  by  60 
night. 

29  rouffes  QQ :  roofes  Bl.  F.  34  Why,]  Why  Ql. 


sen]  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  37? 

Pandi.    When  I  behold  bewty  before  the  sunne,  his  beams  dimme 

bewtie  :  when  by  candle,  bewty  obscures  toarch  light :  so  as  no  time 

I  can  iudge,  because  at  anie  time  I  cannot  discerne,  being  in  the 

65  sunne  a  brightnesse  to  shadow  bewtie,  and  in  bewtie  a  glistering  to 

extinguish  light. 

Trachi.  Schollerlike  said ;  you  flatter  that,  whiche  you  seeme  to 
mislike,  and  (seek)  to  disgrace  that,  which  you  moste  wonder  at. 
But  let  vs  away. 

70  Pandi.  I  follow.  And  you  sir  boy  {to  MOLUS)  goe  to  Syracusa 
about  by  land,  where  you  shall  meete  my  stuffe ;  pay  for  the  cariage, 
and  conuey  it  to  my  lodging. 

Trachi.    I  think  all  your  stuffe  are  bundles  of  paper:  but  now 

must  you  learne  to  turne  your  library  to  a  wardrope,  &  see  whether 

75  your  rapier  hang  better  by  your  side,  then  the  penne  did  in  your  eare. 

Exeunt  (  TRACHI NUS  and  PANDION). 

SCH.ENA  TERTIA.— {The  same.) 
CRYTICUS,  MOLUS. 

Criti.  Molus,  what  oddes  betweene  thy  commons  in  Athens,  and 
the  diet  in  court  ?  A  pages  life,  &  a  scollers  ? 

Molus.    This  difference  :  there  of  a  litle  I  had  somewhat,  here  of 
a  great  deale  nothing,  there  did  I  weare  Pantopheles  on  my  legs,  here 
5  doe  I  beare  them  in  my  handes. 

Criti.    Thou  maist  be  skilled  in  thy  Logick,  but  not  in  thy  Lery- 
poope  :  belike  no  meate  can  downe  with  you,  vnlesse  you  haue  a  knife 
to  cutte  it :  but  come  among  vs,  and  you  shall  see  vs  once  in  a 
morning  haue  a  mouse  at  a  bay. 
10      Molus.    A  mouse?  vnproperly  spoken. 

Criti.    Aptly  vnderstoode,  a  mouse  of  beafe. 

Molus.  I  thinke  indeed  a  peece  of  beafe  as  bigge  as  a  mouse, 
semes  a  great  companie  of  such  cattes.  But  what  els  ? 

Criti.    For  other  sportes,  a  square  die  in  a  pages  pocket,  is  as 
15  decent  as  a  square  cap  on  a  Graduates  head. 

Molus.  You  courtiers  be  mad  fellowes  !  wee  silly  soules  are  onely 
plodders  at  Ergo,  whose  wittes  are  claspt  vppe  with  our  bookes,  &  so 
full  of  learning  are  we  at  home,  that  we  scarce  know  good  manners 

64  discerne,  the  necessary  comma  first  in  Qz  68  [seek]  supplied  F.  70  boy 
&  F. :  boyes  Q*  Bl.  75  your1  QQ:  you  Bl.  2  the]  thy  O2  Bl.  F. 

4  did  IQQ:I  did  Bl.  F. 


378  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  [ACT  J 

when  wee  come  abroad.     Cunning  in  nothing  but  in  making  small 
things  great  by  figures,  pulling  on  with  the  sweate  of  our  studies  20 
a  great  shooe  vpon  a  litle  foote,  burning  out  one  cadle  in  seeking  for 
an  other,  raw  wordlings  in  matters  of  substaunce,  passing  wranglers 
about  shadowes. 

Criti.    Then   is   it   time  lost  to  be  a   scholler.      We  pages  are 
Politians  :  for  looke  what  we  heare  our  maisters  talke  of,  we  deter-  25 
mine  of :  where  we  suspect,  we  vndermine :  and  where  we  mislike 
for  some  perticular  grudge,   there  we  pick  quarrels  for  a  generall 
griefe.      Nothing  amonge  vs  but  in  steede  of  good  morow,   what 
newes  ?  wee  fal  from  cogging  at  dice,  to  cogge  with  states :  &  so 
forward  are  meane  me"  in  those  matters,  that  they  wold  be  cocks  to  30 
tread   down   others,   before    they   be   chickes    to    rise    themselues. 
Youthes   are   very   forwarde    to    stroke    their    chins,    though   they 
haue  no  beardes,  and  to  lie  as  lowd  as  hee  that  hath  liued  longest. 

Molus.    These  be  the  golden  daies  ! 

Criti.    Then  be  they  very  darke  daies  :  for  I  can  see  no  golde.        35 

Molus.    You  are  grosse  witted,  maister  courtier. 

Criti.    And  you  maister  scholler  slender  witted. 

Molus.  I  meant  times  which  were  prophecied  golden  for  plentie 
of  all  things,  sharpnesse  of  wit,  excellencie  in  knowledge,  pollicy  in 
gouernment,  for —  40 

Criti.    Softe  Scholaris,  I  denie  your  argument. 

Molus.    Why,  it  is  no  argument. 

Criti.  Then  I  denie  it  because  it  is  no  argument.  But  let  vs  go 
and  follow  our  maisters.  Exeunt. 

SCH^NA  QUARTA. — (  The  same. ) 

(Enter)  MILETA,  LAMIA,  FAUILLA,  ISMENA,  CANOPE,  EUGENUA. 

Mileta.  Is  it  not  straung  that  Phao  on  the  sodain  shuld  be  so 
faire  ? 

Lamia.  It  cannot  be  straunge,  sith  Venus  was  disposed  to  make 
him  faire.  That  cunning  had  beene  better  bestowed  on  women, 
which  would  haue  deserued  thankes  of  nature.  g 

fsme.    Haplye  she  did  it  in  spite  of  women,  or  scorne  of  nature. 

Canope.    Proud  elfe  !  how  squeamish  he  is  become  alreadie,  vsing 

20  with  repeated  in  Bl.  22  wordlings  (21 :  worldlings   Q*  Bl.  F.  25 

Politians  so  all.     See  note  26  where1  QQ:  and  where  Bl.  F.  37  you 

QQ  F. :  your  Bl. 


sc.iv]  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  379 

both   disdaineful   lookes,    &   imperious  words :    insomuch  that  he 
galleth  with  ingratitude.     And  then  Ladies,,  you  know  how  it  cutteth 
f  o  a  woman  to  become  a  wooer. 

Euge.    Tush  !  children  and  fooles,  the  fairer  they  are,  the  sooner 
they  yeeld ;  an  apple  will  catch  the  one,  a  baby  the  other. 

Isme.    Your  loouer  I  thinke  be  a  faire  foole  :  for  you  loue  nothing 
but  fruit  and  puppets. 

15  Mileta.  I  laugh  at  that  you  all  call  loue,  and  iudge  it  onely 
a  worde  called  loue.  Me  thinks  lyking,  a  curtesie,  a  smile,  a  beck, 
and  such  like,  are  the  very  Quintessence  of  loue. 

Favilla.    I,  Mileta,  but  were  you  as  wise,  as  you  would  be  thought 
faire,  or  as  faire,  as  you  think  your  self  wise,  you  would  bee  as  ready 
20  to  please  men,  as  you  are  coye  to  pranke  your  selfe,  &  as  carefull  to 
bee  accounted  amorous,  as  you  are  willing  to  be  thought  discrete. 

Mileta.  No,  no,  men  are  good  soules  (poore  soules  :)  who  neuer 
enquire  but  with  their  eies,  louing  to  father  the  cradle,  though  they 
but  mother  the  child e.  Giue  me  their  giftes,  not  their  vertues ; 
25  a  graine  of  their  golde  weigheth  downe  a  pound  of  their  witt ;  a  dram 
of  'giue  me,'  is  heauier  then  an  ounce  of  *  heare  me.'  Beleeue  mee 
Ladies,  *  giue '  is  a  pretie  thing. 

Isme.    I  cannot  but  oftentimes  smile  to  my  selfe,  to  heare  men 

call  vs  weake  vesselles,  when  they  proue  theselues  broken  hearted,  vs 

30  fraile,  when  their  thoughtes  cannot  hang  togeather,  studying  with 

words  to  flatter,  and  with  bribes  to  allure,  when  wee  commoly  wish 

their  tongues  in  their  purses,  they  speake  so  simply,  and  their  offers 

.     in  their  bellies,  they  doe  it  so  peeuishly. 

Mileta.    It  is  good  sporte  to  see  them  want  matter :  for  then  fall 

35  they  to  good  manners,  hauing  nothing  in  their  mouthes  but  '  sweet 

mistresse,'  wearing  our  hands  out  with  courtly  kissings,  when  their 

wits  faile  in  courtly  discourses.     Now  Rifling  their  haires,  now  setting 

their  ruffes,  then  gazing  with  their  eies,  then  sighing  with  a  priuie 

wring  by  the  hand,   thinking  vs  like  to  be  wowed  by  signes  and 

40  ceremonies. 

Euge.    Yet  we,  when  we  sweare  with  our  mouthes  wee  are  not  in 
loue,  then  we  sigh  from  the  heart  and  pine  in  loue. 

Canope.    Wee  are  madde  wenches,  if  men  marke  our  wordes  :  for 

whe  I  say,  I  would  none  cared  for  loue  more  then  I,  what  meane 

45  I,  but  I  woulde  none  loued  but  I  ?  where  we  cry  '  away,'  doe  we  not 

26  '  giue  me,'  &c.  the  inverted  commas  here  and  IL  35-6,  45-7  are  minet  F. 
italicizes        39  wowed  Q1 :  wooed  Q'2  rest.    Cf.  pp.  404,  409 


380  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  [ACTI,  sc.  iv 

presently  say,  '  go  too ' :  &  when  men  striue  for  kisses,  we  exclaime,  *  let 
vs  alone,'  as  though  we  would  fall  to  that  our  selues. 

Favilla.  Nay,  then  Canope,  it  is  time  to  goe, — and  beehold 
Phao! 

Isme.    Where  ?  50 

Favilla.  In  your  heade  Ismena,  no  where  els  :  but  let  vs  keepe  on 
our  way. 

Isme.   Wisely.  Exeunt. 


ACTUS   SECUNDUS 

SCH^NA  PRIMA. — (Before  SYBILLA'S  Cave.) 
PHAO,  SYBILLA. 

(Enter  PHAO  with  a  small  mirror:  SYBILLA  sitting  in  her  Cave.) 

Phao.  Phao,  thy  meane  fortune  causeth  thee  to  vse  an  oare, 
and  thy  sodaine  bewtie  a  glasse :  by  the  one  is  scene  thy 
need,  in  the  other  thy  pride.  O  Venus  !  in  thinking  thou  hast 
blest  me,  thou  hast  curst  me,  adding  to  a  poore  estate,  a  proud 
heart ;  and  to  a  disdained  man,  a  disdaining  minde.  Thou  doest  5 
not  flatter  thy  selfe  Phao,  thou  art  faire  :  faire  ?  I  feare  mee  faire  be 
a  word  too  foule  for  a  face  so  passing  fayre.  But  what  auaileth 
bewtie  ?  hadst  thou  all  things  thou  wouldest  wish,  thou  mightst  die 
to  morrow ;  and  didst  thou  want  al  things  thou  desirest,  thou  shalt 
Hue  till  thou  diest.  Tushe  Phao  !  there  is  growne  more  pride  in  thy  i  o 
minde,  thenfauour  in  thy  face.  Blush  foolish  boy,  to  think  on  thine 
owne  thoughts :  cease  complaints,  &  craue  counsell.  And  loe ! 
behold  Sybilla  in  the  mouth  of  her  caue  :  I  will  salute  her.  Ladye, 
I  feare  me  I  am  out  of  my  way,  and  so  benighted  withall  that  I  am 
compelled  to  aske  your  direction.  is 

Sybi.  Faire  youth,  if  you  will  be  aduised  by  mee,  you  shal  for  this 
time  seeke  none  other  Inne,  then  my  caue :  for  that  it  is  no  lesse 
perillous  to  trauaile  by  night,  then  vncomfortable. 

Phao.  Your  curtesie  offered  hath  preuented  what  my  necessity 
was  to  entreate.  20 

Sybi.  Come  neere,  take  a  stoole,  and  sit  downe.  Now,  for  that 
these  winter  nights  are  long,  and  that  children  delight  in  nothing 
more  then  to  heare  old  wiues  tales,  we  will  beguile  the  time  with 


ACTII/SC.  i]  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  381 

some  storie.     And  though  you  behold  wrinkles  and  furrowes  in  my 
25  tawny  face,  yet  may  you  happily  finde  wisdome  and  counsell  in  my 
white  haires. 

Phao.    Lady,  nothing  can  content  me  better  the  a  tale,  neither  is 
there  any  thing  more  necessary  for  mee  then  counsell. 

Sybi.    Were  you  borne  so  faire  by  nature  ? 
30      Phao.    No,  made  so  faire  by  Venus. 
SybL    For  what  cause  ? 
Phao.    I  feare  me  for  some  curse. 
Sybi.    Why,  doe  you  loue,  and  cannot  obteine  ? 
Phao.    No,  I  may  obteine,  but  cannot  loue. 
35      Sybi.    Take  heede  of  that  my  childe  ! 
Phao.    I  cannot  chuse,  good  Madame. 

Sybi.    Then  hearken  to  my  tale,  which  I  hope  shall  be  as  a  streight 
thread  to  leade  you  out  of  those  crooked  conceites,  and  place  you  in 
the  plaine  path  of  loue. 
40      Phao.    I  attend. 

Sybi.    When  I  was  young,  as  you  nowe  are,  I  speake  it  without 

boasting,  I  was  as  bewtifull :  for  Phoebus  in  his  Godhead  sought  to 

gette  my  maydenhead  :  but  I,  fonde  wench,  receiuing  a  benefit  from 

aboue,  began  to  waxe  squemishe  beneath,  not  vnlike  to  Asolis,  which 

4  5  beeing  made  greene  by  heauenly  droppes,  shrinketh  into  the  grounde 

when  there  fall  showers  :  or  the  Syrian  mudde,  which  being  made 

white  chalk  by  the  sunne,  neuer  ceaseth  rolling,   til  it  lie  in  the 

shadow.      He  to  sweete  praiers  added   great   promises ;    I,  either 

desirous  to  make  trial  of  his  power,  or  willing  to  prolong  mine  owne 

50  life,  caught  vp  my  handful  of  sand,  consenting  to  his  suite,  if  I  might 

Hue  as  many  yeares   as  there  were  graines.      Phoebus,    (for  what 

cannot  Gods  doe,  and  what  for  loue  will  they  not  do,)  graunted 

my  petition.     And  then,  I  sighe  and  blushe  to  tell  the  rest,  I  recalled 

my  promise. 

55      Phao.    Was  not  the  God  angry  to  see  you  so  vnkinde  ? 

Sybi.   Angry  my  boy,  which  was  the  cause  that  I  was  vnfortunate. 
Phao.    What  reuenge  for  such  rigor  vsed  the  Gods  ? 
Sybi.    None,  but  suffring  vs  to  Hue,  and  know  wee  are  no  Gods. 
Phao.    I  pray  tell  on. 

60      Sybi.    I  will.     Hauing   receiued   long   life   by   Phoebus,    &   rare 
bewtie  by  nature,  I  thought  all  the  yeere  woulde  haue  beene  May, 

25  happily  Q1  Bl.  iF. :  happely  Q*        44  wexe  Qz        52  Gods  QQ :  the  Gods 
Bl.  F.  57  vsed  so  all,  tlmtgh  Sybi  lias  reply  suggests  vse  as  better 


382  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  [ACTII 

that  fresh  colours  would  alwaies  continue,  y*  time  &  fortune  could 
not  weare  out,  what  Gods  and  nature  had  wrought  vppe :  not  once 
imagining  that  white  and  read  should  returne  to  black  and  yellow  ; 
the  luniper,  the  longer  it  grew,  the  crookedder  it  waxed ;  or  that  in  a  65 
face  without  blemish,  there  should  come  wrinkles  without  number. 
I  did  as  you  do,  go  with  my  glasse,  rauished  with  the  pride  of  mine 
own  bewtie ;  &  you  shall  do  as  I  doe,  loath  to  see  a  glasse,  disdain 
ing  deformitie.  There  was  none  that  heard  of  my  fault,  but  shunned 
my  fauour,  insomuch  as  I  stooped  for  age  before  I  tasted  of  youth,  70 
sure  to  be  long  liued,  vncerteine  to  bee  beloued.  Gentlemen  that 
vsde  to  sigh  from  their  heartes  for  my  sweete  loue,  began  to  point 
with  their  fingers  at  my  withered  face,  &  laughed  to  see  the  eies, 
out  of  which  fire  seemed  to  sparkle,  to  be  suckered  being  old  with 
spectacles.  This  causeth  me  to  withdraw  my  selfe  to  a  solitary  caue,  75 
where  I  must  leade  sixe  hundred  yeeres  in  no  lesse  pensiuenesse  of 
crabbed  age,  then  grief  of  remembred  youth.  Only  this  comfort, 
that  being  ceased  to  be  faire,  I  study  to  be  wise,  wishing  to  be 
thought  a  graue  matro,  since  I  cannot  returne  to  be  a  young  maide. 

Phao.    Is  it  not  possible  to  die  before  you  become  so  old  ?  80 

Sybi.   No  more  possible  then  to  returne  as  you  are,   to  be  so 
young. 

Phao.    Could   not   you   settle   your   fancie   vpon  any,  or  would 
not  destinie  suffer  it  ? 

Sybi.   Women  willingly e  ascribe  that  to  fortune,  which  wittingly  85 
was  committed  by  frowardnesse. 

Phao.   What  will  you  haue  me  doe  ? 

Sybi.  Take  heede  you  do  not  as  I  did.  Make  not  too  much  of 
fading  bewty,  which  is  fair  in  the  cradle,  &  foul  in  the  graue ;  re 
sembling  Polyon,  whose  leaues  are  white  in  the  morning,,  and  blew  90 
before  night,  or  Anyta,  which  being  a  sweet  flower  at  the  rising  of  the 
sunne,  becommeth  a  weede,  if  it  be  not  pluckt  before  the  setting. 
Fair  faces  haue  no  fruites,  if  they  haue  no  witnesses.  When  you 
shall  behold  ouer  this  tender  flesh  a  tough  skinne,  your  eies  which 
were  wont  to  glaunce  on  others  faces  to  be  suncke  so  hollow,  that  95 
you  can  scarce  looke  out  of  your  own  head,  and  when  all  your  teeth 
shall  wagge  as  faste  as  your  tongue,  the  wil  you  repent  the  time 
which  you  cannot  recall,  and  be  enforced  to  beare  what  moste  you 

64  read  £1  :  red  Q*  BL  F.  65  the1  om.  Bl.  F.  wexed  Q'*  Bl.  F. 

74  suckered  (21 :  succored  Q'2 ;  succoured  Bl.  F.         90  Polyon  oldeds. :  Polgon  F. 
95  on  <2l :  at  Qz  Bl.  F. 


sc.  i]  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  383 

blame.     Loose  not  the  pleasaunt  time  of  your  youth,  then  the  which 

ioo  there  is  nothing  swifter,  nothing  sweeter.  Bewtie  is  a  slippery  good, 
which  decreaseth  whilest  it  is  encreasing,  resebling  the  Medler,  which 
in  the  moment  of  his  full  ripenes  is  known  to  be  in  a  rottennes. 
Whiles  you  looke  in  the  glasse,  it  waxeth  old  with  time ;  if  on  the 
Sunne,  parcht  with  heate;  if  on  the  winde,  blasted  with  cold. 

105  A  great  care  to  keepe  it,  a  short  space  to  enioy  it,  a  sodain  time  to 
loose  it.  Bee  not  coy  when  you  are  courted.  Fortunes  wings  are 
made  of  times  feathers,  which  stay  not  whilest  one  may  measure 
them.  Be  affable  and  curteous  in  youth,  that  you  may  be  honoured 
in  age.  Roses  that  lose  their  colours,  keepe  their  sauours,  and 

nopluckt  from  the  stalke,  are  put  to  the  still.  Cotonea,  because  it 
boweth  when  the  sunne  riseth,  is  sweetest,  when  it  is  oldest :  and 
children,  which  in  their  te"der  yeeres  sow  curtesie,  shal  in  their  de 
clining  states  reap  pitie.  Be  not  proud  of  bewties  painting  :  whose 
colours  cosume  themselues,  because  they  are  bewties  painting. 

115  Phao.  I  am  driuen  by  your  counsell  into  diuerse  conceites,  neither 
knowing  how  to  stande,  or  where  to  fall :  but  to  yeelde  to  loue  is  the 
only  thing  I  hate. 

Sybi.  I  comit  you  to  fortune,  who  is  like  to  play  such  prancks 
with  you,  as  your  teder  yeeres  can  scarse  beare,  nor  your  greene  wits 

120  vnderstand.  But  repaire  vnto  me  often,  and  if  I  cannot  remoue  the 
effectes,  yet  I  will  manifest  the  causes. 

Phao.  I  goe,  ready  to  returne  for  aduice,  before  I  am  resolued  to 
aduenture. 

Sybi.   Yet  hearken  two  words  :  thou  shalt  get  friendshippe  by  dis- 

125  sembling,  loue  by  hatred,  vnlesse  thou  perish,  thou  shalt  perish  :  in 
digging  for  a  stone,  thou  shalt  reach  a  starre :  thou  shalt  be  hated 
most,  because  thou  art  loued  most.  Thy  death  shalbe  feared  & 
wished :  so  much  for  prophecie,  which  nothing  can  preuent :  and 
this  for  counsell,  which  thou  maist  follow.  Keepe  not  companie 

1 30  with  Antes  that  haue  winges,  nor  talke  with  any  neere  the  hill  of 
a  mowle;  where  thou  smellest  the  sweetnesse  of  serpents  breath, 
beware  thou  touch  no  parte  of  the  bodie.  Be  not  mery  among  those 
that  put  Buglosse  in  their  wine,  and  suger  in  thine.  If  any  talke  of 
the  Eclipse  of  the  sunne,  say  thou  neuer  sawest  it.  Nourishe  no 

135  conies  in  thy  vaultes,  nor  swallowes  in  thine  cues.     Sowe  next  thy 

121  I  will  Ql :  will  I  Q2  Bl.  F.  124  two  QQ :  to  my  Bl.  F.  125  hatred, 
Ql :  hatred  ;  Qz  rest  131  mowle ;  Qz  Bl.  F. :  Ql  reads  Antes,  .  .  .  winges,  .  .  . 
any,  . . .  mowle, 


384  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  [ACT  it 

vine  Mandrage,  and  euer  keepe  thine  eares  open,  and  thy  mouth 
shut,  thine  eies  vpwarde,  and  thy  fingers  downe  :  so  shalt  thou  doe 
better  then  otherwise,  though  neuer  so  well  as  I  wishe. 

Phao.  Alas !  Madame,  your  prophesie  threatneth  miseries,  and 
your  counsell  warneth  impossibilities.  r4° 

Sybi,   Farewell,  I  can  answere  no  more.  Exit  {into  cave). 

SCH.ENA  SECUNDA. — {The  same.) 

{Enter,  to)  PHAO,  SAPHO,  TRACHINUS,  PANDION,  CRITICUS, 
MOLUS. 

Phao.  Vnhappy  Phao ! — But  softe,  what  gallant  troupe  is  this  ? 
what  Gentlewoman  is  this  ? 

Criti.    Sapho,  a  Lady  heere  in  Sycily. 

Sapho.    What  faire  boy  is  that  ? 

Trachi.   Phao,.  the  Ferrie  man  of  Syracusa.  5 

Phao.  I  neuer  saw  one  more  braue  :  be  al  Ladies  of  such 
maiestie  ? 

Criti.    No,  this  is  she  that  al  wonder  at  and  worship. 

Sapho.  I  haue  seldome  scene  a  sweeter  face.  Be  all  Ferrie  men 
of  that  fairenesse  ?  I0 

Trachi.  No  Madame,  this  is  he  that  Venus  determined  among 
men  to  make  the  fairest. 

Sapho.  Seeing  I  am  onely  come  forth  to  take  the  ayre,  I  will 
crosse  the  Ferrie,  and  so  the  fieldes,  then  going  in  through  the  park, 
I  thinke  the  walke  wil  be  pleasant.  T5 

Trachi.  You  will  much  delight  in  the  flattering  greene,  which 
now  beginneth  to  be  in  his  glory. 

Sapho.  Sir  boy,  will  yee  vndertake  to  cary  vs  ouer  the  water  ? 
Are  you  dumb,  can  you  not  speake  ? 

Phao.    Madame,  I  craue  pardon,  I  am  spurblinde,  I  could  scarse  20 
see. 

Sapho.    It  is  pitie  in  so  good  a  face  there  should  bee  an  euill  eie. 

Phao.    I  would  in  my  face  there  were  neuer  an  eie. 

Sapho.  Thou  canst  neuer  bee  rich  in  a  trade  of  life  of  all  the 
basest.  25 

Phao.  Yet  content  Madame,  which  is  a  kind  of  life  of  all  the 
best. 

136  vine  Ql :  vines  Q2  Bl.  F.          s.  D.  Exit,  so  all  2  is  Q*  Bl.  F. :  in  Ql 

26  of  om.  Bl. 


sc.ii]  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  385 

Sap  ho.  Wilt  thou  forsake  the  feme,  and  followe  the  court  as 
a  Page  ? 

30     Phao.   As  it  pleaseth  fortune  Madame,  to  whome  I  am  a  prentice. 
Sapho.    Come,  let  vs  goe. 
Trachi.   Will  you  goe  Pandion  ? 
PandL   Yea.  Exeunt. 

SCH^NA  TERTIA. — (A  Street.) 

MOLUS,  CRYTICUS,  CALYPHO. 

{Enter  MOLUS  and  CRITICUS,  meeting.) 

Molus.  Cryticus  comes  in  good  time,  I  shall  not  bee  alone.  What 
newes  Cryticus? 

Criti.    I  taught  you  that  lesson,  to  aske  what  newes,  &  this  is  the 
newes :  to  morow  ther  shalbe  a  desperate  fray  betweene  two,  made 
5  at  all  weapons,  from  the  browne  bill  to  the  bodkin. 

Molus.  Now  thou  talkest  of  frayes,  I  pray  thee  what  is  that, 
whereof  they  talke  so  commonlye  in  courte,  valour,  the  stab,  the 
pistoll,  for  the  which  euery  man  that  dareth  is  so  much  honoured  ? 

Criti.    O  Molus,  beware  of  valour  !  hee  that  can  looke  bigge,  and 

jo  weare  his  dagger  pomel  lower  the  the  point,  that  lyeth  at  a  good 

warde,  and  can  hit  a  button  with  a  thrust,  and  will  into  the  field  man 

to  man  for  a  boute  or  two,  he,  Molus,  is  a  shrewd  fellow,  and  shall 

be  well  followed. 

Motes.   What  is  the  end  ? 
15       Criti.    Daunger  or  death. 

Molus.  If  it  be  but  death  that  bringeth  all  this  commendation, 
I  account  him  as  valiant  that  is  killed  with  a  surfet,  as  with 
a  sword. 

Criti.    How  so  ? 

20  Molus.  If  I  venture  vpon  a  full  stomacke  to  eat  a  rasher  on  the 
coales,  a  carbonado,  drinke  a  carouse,  swallow  all  things  that  may 
procure  sicknesse  or  death,  am  not  I  as  valiaunt  to  die  so  in  a 
house,  as  the  other  in  a  field  ?  Me  thinkes  that  Epicures  are  as 
desperate  as  soldiours,  and  cookes  prouide  as  good  weapons  as 
25  cutlers. 

28  the1  & :  thy  Q2  Bl.  F.  4  be  om.  Q"1,  inserted  before  betweene  by  Bl.  F. 
22  a  Q1:  an  Q*  Bl.  F. 

BOND   II  C    C 


386  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  [ACT  n 

Criti.    O  valiaunt  knight ! 

Molus.    I  will  die  for  it,  what  greater  valor  ? 

Criti.    Schollers'  fight,  who  rather  seeke  to  choak  their  stomackes, 
then  see  their  blood. 

Molus.    I  will  stand  vppon  this  point :  if  it  bee  valour  to  dare  die,  30 
he  is  valiaunt  how  soeuer  he  dieth. 

Criti.    Well,  of  this  hereafter :    but  here  commeth  Calipho,  we 
will  haue  some  sporte. 

(Enter  CALYPHO.) 

Caly.  My  mistresse,  I  think,  hath  got  a  Gadfly,  neuer  at  home, 
and  yet  none  can  tel  where  abrode.  My  maister  was  a  wise  man,  35 
when  he  matcht  with  such  a  womanne.  When  she  comes  in,  we 
must  put  out  the  fire,  because  of  the  srnoake,  hang  vp  our  hammers 
because  of  the  noise,  and  doe  no  worke,  but  watch  what  shee 
wanteth.  She  is  faire,  but  by  my  troath  I  doubt  of  her  honestie. 
I  muste  seeke  her,  that  I  feare  Mars  hath  found.  40 

Criti.    Whom  doest  thou  seeke  ? 

Caly.    I  haue  found  those  I  seeke  not. 

Molus.    I  hope  you  haue  found  those,  which  are  honest. 

Caly.    It  may  be  :  but  I  seeke  no  such. 

Molus.    Cryticus,  you  shall  see  me  by  learning  to  proue  Calipho  45 
to  bee  the  deuill. 

Criti.    Let  vs  see,  but  I  pray  thee  proue  it  better  then  thou  didst 
thy  self  to  be  valiant. 

Molus.    Calipho,  I  will  proue  thee  to  bee  the  diuell. 

Caly.    Then  will  I  sweare  thee  to  bee  a  God.  50 

Molus.    The  diuell  is  black. 

Caly.  What  care  I  ? 

Molus.    Thou  art  black. 

Caly.    What  care  you  ? 

Molus.    Therefore  thou  art  the  diuell.  55 

Caly.    I  denie  that. 

Molus.    It  is  the  conclusion,  thou  must  not  denie  it. 

Caly.    In  spite  of  all  conclusions,  I  will  denie  it. 

Criti.    Molus,  the  Smith  holdes  you  hard. 

Molus.    Thou  seest  he  hath  no  reason.  60 

Criti.    Trie  him  againe. 

28  Schollers  old  eds.  which  always  omit  a  final  apostrophe  after  &  46 

deiull  Q1 :  diuell  Q*  Bl.  F.  49  the  Q1 :  a  Q*  Bl.  F. 


sc.  in.]  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  387 

Molus.    I  will  reason  with  thee  now  from  a  place. 
Caly.    I  meane  to  aunswere  you  in  no  other  place. 
Molus.    Like  maister,  like  man. 
65      Caly.    Yt  may  be. 

Molus.    But  thy  maister  hath  homes. 
Caly.    And  so  maist  thou. 

Molus.    Therefore  thou  hast  homes,  and  ergo  a  deuill. 
Caly.  Be  they  all  diuelles  haue  homes  ? 
70      Molus.    All  men  that  haue  homes,  are. 

Caly.    Then  are  there  moe  diuels  on  earth  the  in  hell. 
Molus.    But  what  doest  thou  answere  ? 
Caly.    I  deny  that. 
Molus.    What? 

75  Caly.  Whatsoeuer  it  is,  that  shall  proue  mee  a  diuell.  But 
hearest  thou  scholler,  I  am  a  plaine  fellow,  and  can  fashion 
nothing  but  with  the  hammer.  What  wilt  thou  say,  if  I  proue  thee 
a  smith  ? 

Molus.    Then  will  I  say  thou  art  a  scholler. 

80       Criti.    Proue  it  Calipho,  and  I  will  give  thee  a  good  Colaphum. 
Caly.    I  will  proue  it,  or  els — 
Criti.    Or  els  what  ? 

Caly.    Or  els  I  will  not  prooue  it.     Thou  art  a  Smith  :  therefore 
thou  art  a  smith.     The  conclusion,  you  say,  must  not  bee  denyed  : 
85  &  therfore  it  is  true,  thou  art  a  smith. 

Molus.    I,  but  I  denie  your  Antecedent. 

Caly.    I,  but  you  shal  not.     Haue  I  not  toucht  him,  Cryticus  ? 
Criti.    You  haue  both  done  learnedly  :  for  as  sure  as  he  is  a  smith, 
thou  art  a  diuell. 

9°  Caly.  And  then  he  a  deuill,  because  a  smith  :  for  that  it  was  his 
reaso  to  make  me  a  deuil,  being  a  smith. 

Molus.    There  is  no  reasoning  with  these  Mechanical  doltes,  whose 
wits  are  in  their  hands,  not  in  their  heads. 

Criti.    Be  not  cholericke,  you  are  wise :  but  let  vs  take  vp  this 
95  matter  with  a  song. 

Caly.    I  am  content,  my  voice  is  as  good  as  my  reason. 
Molus.    Then  shall  we  haue  sweete  musick.     But  come,  I  will  not 
breake  of. 

69  haue  Ql :  that  haue  Qz  Bl.  F. 


C  C  2 


388  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  [ACT  n 

SONG. 

Criti.  TV/TErry  Knaues  are  we  three-a. 

Molus.  When  our  Songs  do  agree-a.  100 

Caly.  O  now  I  well  see-a, 

What  anon  we  shall  be-a. 
Criti.  If  we  ply  thus  our  singing, 

Molus.  Pots  then  must  be  flinging, 

Caly.  If  the  drinke  be  but  stinging.  105 

Molus.    I  shall  forget  the  Rules  of  Grammer. 
Caly.      And  I  the  pit-apat  of  my  Hammer. 

To  th'  Tap-house  then  lets  gang,  and  rore, 

Cal  hard,  tis  rare  to  vamp  a  score, 

Draw  dry  the  tub,  be  it  old  or  new,  IIO 

And  part  not  till  the  ground  looke  blew. 

Exeunt, 


Chor.  + 


SCH^ENA  QUARTA. — {Before  SYBILLA'S  Cave.} 
PHAO,  SYBILLA. 
{Enter  PHAO.) 

Phao.  What  vnacquainted  thoughtes  are  these  Phao,  farre  vnfit 
for  thy  thoughtes,  vnmeet  for  thy  birth,  thy  fortune,  thy  yeares,  for 
Phao !  vnhappy,  canst  thou  not  be  content  to  beholde  the  sunne, 
but  thou  muste  couet  to  build  thy  nest  in  the  Sunne  ?  Doth  Sapho 
bewitch  thee,  whome  all  the  Ladies  in  Sicily  coulde  not  wooe  ?  Yea,  5 
poore  Phao,  the  greatnesse  of  thy  mind  is  far  aboue  the  bewtie  of 
thy  face,  and  the  hardnesse  of  thy  fortune  beyonde  the  bitternesse 
of  thy  words.  Die  Phao,  Phao  die  :  for  there  is  no  hope  if  thou  bee 
wise ;  nor  safetie,  if  thou  be  fortunate.  Ah  Phao,  the  more  thou 
seekest  to  suppresse  those  mounting  affections,  they  soare  the  loftier,  10 
&  the  more  thou  wrestlest  with  them,  the  stronger  they  waxe,  not 
vnlike  vnto  a  ball,  which  the  harder  it  is  throwne  against  the  earth, 
the  higher  it  boundeth  into  the  ayre  :  or  our  Sycilyan  stone,  which 
groweth  hardest  by  hammeringe.  O  diuine  loue !  and  therefore 
diuine,  because  loue,  whose  deitie  no  conceite  canne  compase,  and  15 
therfore  no  authoritie  canne  constraine ;  as  miraculous  in  working  as 
mightie,  &  no  more  to  bee  suppressed  then  comprehended.  Howe 
now  Phao,  whether  art  thou  caried,  committing  idolatrie  with  that 
God,  whome  thou  hast  cause  to  blaspheme  ?  O  Sapho !  faire 

s.  D.  SONG.]  QQ,  without  the  words ,  first  given  in  Bl.         3  Phao!]  Phao  :  Ql : 
Phao  ?  (as  often  for  !)  Qz  Bl. :  Phao,  F.  (with  yeares ;  for  yeares,)  wrongly 


sc.  iv]  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  389 

20  Sapho !  peace  miserable  wretch,  enioy  thy  care  in  couert,  weare 
willow  in  thy  hatte,  and  baies  in  thy  hart.  Leade  a  Lamb  in  thy 
hand,  &  a  Fox  in  thy  head,  a  doue  on  the  back  of  thy  hand, 
&  a  sparow  in  the  palme.  Gold  boyleth  best,  whe"  it  bubleth 
least ;  water  runneth  smoothest,  where  it  is  deepest.  Let  thy  loue 

25  hang  at  thy  hearts  bottome,  not  at  the  tongues  brimme.  Things 
vntold,  are  vndone;  there  can  be  no  greater  comforte,  then  to 
know  much,  nor  any  lesse  labour,  then  to  saye  nothing.  But  ah ! 
thy  bewty  Sapho,  thy  bewty  !  Beginnest  thou  to  blabbe  ?  I,  blabbe 
it  Phao,  as  long  as  thou  blabbest  her  bewty.  Bees  that  die  with 

30  honney,  are  buried  with  harmonic.  Swannes  that  end  their  Hues 
with  songs,  are  couered  when  they  are  dead  with  flowers :  and  they 
that  till  their  latter  gaspe  commend  bewty,  shall  be  euer  honoured 
with  benefites.  In  these  extreamities  I  will  goe  to  none  other 
Oracle  then  Sybilla,  whose  olde  yeares  haue  not  beene  idle  in  these 

35  young  attemptes,  &  whose  sound  aduice  may  mitigate  (though  the 
heaues  cannot  remoue)  my  miseries.  O  Sapho !  sweete  Sapho ! 
Sapho!— Sibilla? 

(SYBILLA  appears  in  the  mouth  of  the  Cave.) 

Sybi.    Who  is  there  ? 
Phao.    One  not  worthy  to  be  one. 
40      Sybi.    Faire  Phao  ? 

Phao.    Vnfortunate  Phao ! 
Sybi.    Come  in. 

Phao.    So  I  wil ;  and  quite  thy  tale  of  Phcebus,  with  one  whose 
brightnesse  darkeneth  Phcebus.     I  loue  Sapho,  Sybilla ;  Sapho,  ah 
45  Sapho,  Sybilla ! 

Sybi.  A  short  tale  Phao,  and  a  sorowfull ;  it  asketh  pitie  rather  then 
counsell. 

Phao.    So  it  is   Sybilla :   yet  in  those  firm  yeares   me  thinketh 
there  shold  harbour  such  experience,  as  may  deferre,  though  not  take 
50  away,  my  destinie. 

Sybi.    It  is  hard  to  cure  that  by  wordes,  which  cannot  be  eased  by 
hearbes  ;  and  yet  if  thou  wilt  take  aduice,  be  attentiue. 

Phao.    I  haue  brought  mine  eares  of  purpose,  and  will  hag  at  your 
mouth,  til  you  haue  finished  your  discourse. 

55      Sybi.    Loue,  faire  child,  is  to  be  gouerned  by  arte,  as  thy  boat  "by 
an  oare  :  for  fancie,  thogh  it  cometh  by  hazard,  is  ruled  by  wisdome. 
32  latter  Ql:  later  Qz  Bl.  F. 


39o  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  [ACTII 

If  my  preceptes  may  perswade,  (and  I  pray  thee  let.  them  perswade) 
I  woulde  wish  thee  first  to  be  diligent:  for  that  womenne  desire 
nothing  more  then  to  haue  their  seruants  officious.  Be  alwaies  in 
sight,  but  neuer  slothful.  Flatter,  I  meane  lie ;  litle  things  catch  60 
light  mindes,  and  fancy  is  a  worme,  that  feedeth  first  vpon  fenell. 
Imagine  with  thy  selfe  all  are  to  bee  won,  otherwise  mine  aduise  were 
as  vnnecessary  as  thy  labour.  It  is  vnpossible  for  the  brittle  mettall 
of  worne"  to  withstand  the  flattering  attemptes  of  men  :  only  this,  let 
them  be  asked ;  their  sex  requireth  no  lesse,  their  modesties  are  to  65 
be  allowed  so  much.  Be  prodigall  in  prayses  and  promises,  bewtie 
must  haue  a  trumpet,  &  pride  a  gifte.  Peacocks  neuer  spread  their 
feathers,  but  when  they  are  flattered,  &  Gods  are  seldome  pleased, 
if  they  be  not  bribed.  There  is  none  so  foule,  that  thinketh  not 
her  selfe  faire.  In  commending  thou  canst  loose  no  labor ;  for  of  7° 
euery  one  thou  shalt  be  beleeued.  Oh  simple  women !  that  are 
brought  rather  to  beleeue  what  their  eares  heare  of  flattering  men, 
then  what  their  eies  see  in  true  glasses. 

Phao.   You  degresse,  onely  to  make  mee  beleeue  that  women  do 
so  lightly  beleeue.  75 

Sybi.  Then  to  the  purpose.  Chuse  such  times  to  break  thy 
suite,  as  thy  Lady  is  pleasant.  The  wooden  horse  entred  Troy, 
when  the  soldiers  were  quaffyng ;  and  Penelope  forsooth,  whome 
fables  make  so  coy,  among  the  pottes  wrong  her  wooers  by  the  fists, 
when  she  lowred  on  their  faces.  Grapes  are  minde  glasses.  Venus  80 
worketh  in  Bacchus  presse,  &  bloweth  fire  vpon  his  lycour.  When 
thou  talkest  with  her,  let  thy  speach  be  pleasant,  but  not  incredible. 
Chuse  such  words  as  may  (as  many  may)  melt  her  minde.  Honney 
ranckleth,  when  it  is  eaten  for  pleasure,  and  faire  words  wound, 
when  they  are  hearde  for  loue.  Write,  and  persist  in  writing ;  they  85 
read  more  then  is  written  to  them,  &  write  lesse  then  they  thinke. 
In  coceite  studie  to  be  pleasaunt,  in  attire  braue,  but  not  too  curious  ; 
when  she  smileth,  laugh  outright ;  if  rise,  stande  vp  ;  if  sit,  lye  downe. 
Loose  al  thy  time  to  keepe  time  with  her.  Can  you  sing,  shew  your 
cunning ;  can  you  daunce,  vse  your  legges  ;  can  you  play  vppo  any  90 
instrument,  practise  your  fingers  to  please  her  fancy  ;  seeke  out  qualy- 
ties.  If  she  seeme  at  the  first  cruell,  be  not  discouraged.  I  tell 
the  a  straung  thing,  womenne  striue,  because  they  would  be  ouer- 

61  light  QQ  Bl. :  little  F.  65  lesse  Q*:  losse  £2  Bl.  F.  74  digresse 

Q*  rest  79  wrong  QQ:  wrung  Bl.  F.  80  on  their]  wrong  Q*          are 

om.  Q2  BL  F.  which  all  read  faces,  for  faces,  of  Ql 


sc.iv]  SAPHO  AND  PHAO  391 

come :  force  they  call  it,  but  such  a  welcome  force  they  account  it, 
95  that  continually  they  study  to  be  enforced.  To  faire  words  ioyne 
sweet  kisses,  which  if  they  gently  receiue,  I  say  no  more,  they  wil 
gently  receiue.  But  be  not  pinned  alwaies  on  her  sleeues,  straungers 
haue  greene  rushes,  whg  daily  guests  are  not  worth  a  rushe.  Looke 
pale,  and  learne  to  be  leane,  that  who  so  seeth  thee,  may  say,  the 
zoo  Gentleman  is  in  loue.  Vse  no  sorcerie  to  hasten  thy  successe : 
wit  is  a  witch :  Ulysses  was  not  faire,  but  wise,  not  cunning  in 
charmes,  but  sweete  in  speach,  whose  filed  togue  made  those  in- 
amoured  that  sought  to  haue  him  inchauted.  Be  not  coy,  beare, 
sooth,  sweare,  die  to  please  thy  Lady  :  these  are  rules  for  poore 
105  louers,  to  others  I  am  no  mistresse.  He  hath  wit  ynough,  that  can 
giue  ynough.  Dumbe  men  are  eloquent,  if  they  be  liberall.  Beleeue 
me  great  gifts  are  little  Gods.  When  thy  mistresse  doth  bend  her 
brow,  do  not  thou  bend  thy  fiste.  Camokes  must  be  bowed  with 
sleight,  not  stregth;  water  (is)  to  be  trained  with  pipes,  not  stopped 
1 10  with  sluses;  fire  to  be  quenched  with  dust,  not  with  swordes.  If 
thou  haue  a  ryuall,  be  pacient ;  arte  muste  winde  him  out,  not 
malice ;  time,  not  might ;  her  chaunge,  and  thy  constancie.  What- 
soeuer  she  weareth,  sweare  it  becomes  her.  In  thy  loue  be  secrete. 
Venus  cofers,  though  they  bee  hollow,  neuer  sound,  &  when  they 
115  seeme  emptiest,  they  are  fullest.  Old  foole  that  I  am  !  to  doe  thee 
good,  I  beginne  to  doate,  &  counsell  that,  which  I  woulde  haue 
concealed.  Thus,  Phao,  haue  I  giuen  thee  certeine  regardes,  no 
rules, — only  to  set  thee  in  the  way,  not  to  bring  thee  hoe. 

Phao.   Ah,  Sybilla,  I  pray  goe  on,  that  I  may  glutte  my  selfe  in 
120  this  science. 

Sybi.  Thou  shalt  not  surfette  Phao,  whilest  I  diet  thee.  Flyes 
that  die  on  the  honneysuckle  become  poyson  to  bees.  A  little  in 
loue  is  a  great  deale. 

Phao.    But  all  that  can  be  saide  not  enough. 

125      Sybi.    White  siluer  draweth  blacke  lines,  and  sweete  wordes  will 
breede  sharpe  tormentes. 

Phao.   What  shall  become  of  mee  ? 

Sybi.    Goe  dare.  (Exit  into  cave.) 

Phao.    I  goe ! — Phao,  thou  canst  but  die,  &  then  as  good  die  with 

130  great  desires,  as  pine  in  base  fortunes.  Exit. 

«t 

108  do  repeated  in  Q*  in  not  Ql  /?/.  F. :  nor  Qz          s.  n.   [Exit  &c.]  / 

supply  this  for  Sybilla  here,  since  all  eds.  print  Exit  for  Phao  below 


392  SAPHO  AND  PHAO  [ACT  lit 


ACTUS   TERTIUS 

SCH^ENA  PRIMA.- — {Ante-room  <T/"SAPHO'S  Chamber.) 
{Enter)    TRACHINUS,    PANDION,    MILETA,    ISMENA,    {and  later) 

EUGENUA. 

Trachi.  Sapho  is  falne  sodenly  sick,  I  cannot  guesse  the 
cause. 

Mileta.    Some  colde  belike,  or  els  a  womans  qualme. 

Pandi.  A  straunge  nature  of  colde,  to  driue  one  into  such  an 
heate.  5 

Mileta.  Your  Phisick  sir,  I  thinke  be  of  the  second  sort,  els 
would  you  not  iudge  it  rare,  that  whot  feuers  are  ingendred  by 
cold  causes. 

Pandi.    Indeede  Lady,  I  haue  no  more  Phisick  then  wil  purge 
choller,  and  that  if  it  please  you,  I  will  practise  vpon  you.     It  is  good  10 
for  women  that  be  waspish. 

Isme.  Fayth,  sir,  no,  you  are  best  purge  your  owne  melancholy  : 
belike  you  are  a  male  content. 

Pandi.    It  is  true,  and  are  not  you  a  female  content  ? 

Trachi.    Softe  !  I  am  not  content,  that  a  male  and  Female  content,  15 
should  go  together. 

Mileta.    Ismena  is  disposed  to  be  merie. 

Isme.    No,  it  is  Pandion  would  faine  seeme  wise. 

Trachi.  You  shall  not  fall  out !  for  Pigions  after  byting  fall  to 
billing,  and  open  iarres  make  the  closest  iestes.  20 

{Enter  EUGENUA.) 

Euge.  Mileta  !  Ismena  !  Mileta  !  Come  away,  my  Lady  is  in 
a  sowne ! 

Mileta.    Aye  me ! 

Isme.    Come,  let  vs  make  haste.  {Exeunt  EUG.  MIL.  ISM.) 

Trachi.    I  am  sorie  for  Sapho  :  because  shee  will  take  no  Phisicke ;  25 
like  you  Pandion,  who  being  sick  of  the  sullens,  will  seeke  no  friend. 

Pandi.  Of  men  we  learne  to  speake,  of  Gods  to  holde  our  peace. 
Silence  shall  disgeste  what  follye  hath  swallowed,  and  wisdome 
weane  what  fancie  hath  noursed. 

Trachi.    Is  it  not  loue  ?  30 

Pandi.    If  it  were,  what  then  ? 


sc.  i]  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  393 

Trachi.    Nothing,  but  that  I  hope  it  be  not. 

Pandi.    Why,  in  courtes  there  is  nothing  more  common.      And  as 
to  be  bald  among  the  Micanyans  it  was  accounted  no  shame,  because 
35  they  were  all  balde  :    so  to  be  in  loue   among   courtiers  it   is   no 
discredit :  for  that  they  are  al  in  loue. 

Trachi.    Why,  what  doe  you  think  of  our  Ladies  ? 

Pandi.    As  of  the  Seres'  wooll,  which  beeing  whitest  &  softest, 
fretteth  soonest  and  deepest. 

4°  Trachi.  I  will  not  tempt  you  in  your  deepe  Melacholy,  least  you 
seeme  sowre  to  those  which  are  so  sweete.  But  come,  let  vs  walke 
a  litle  into  the  fieldes,  it  may  bee  the  open  ayre  will  disclose  your 
close  conceites. 

Pandi.    I  will  goe  with  you  :  but  send  our  pages  away.       Exeunt. 

SCH^NA  SECUNDA. — {A  Street.) 
{Enter)  CRYTICUS,  MOLUS,  {afterwards)  CALYPHO. 
Criti.    What  browne  studie  art  thou  in  Molus  ?  no  mirth  ?  no  life  ? 
Molus.    I  am  in  the  depth  of  my  learning  driuen  to  a  muse,  how 
this  lent  I  shall  scamble  in  the  court,  that  was  woont  to  fast  so  ofte 
in  the  Vniuersitie. 
5       Criti.    Thy  belly  is  thy  God. 

Molus.    Then  is  he  a  deaffe  God. 
Criti.    Why? 

Molus.    For  venter  non  habet  aures.     But  thy  backe  is  thy  God. 
Criti.   Then  is  it  a  blind  God. 
10      Molus.    How  proue  you  that  ? 

Criti.    Easie.     Nemo  videt  manticce  quod  in  tergo  est. 
Molus.    Then  woulde  the  sachell  that  hanges  at  your  God,  id  est, 
your  backe,  were  full  of  meate  to  stuffe  my  God,  hoc  est,  my  belly. 

Criti.    Excellent.     But  how  canst  thou  studie,  when  thy  minde  is 
1 5  onely  in  the  kitchen  ? 

Molus.   Doth  not  the  horse  trauell  beste,  that  sleapeth  with  his 
head  in  the  maunger  ? 
Criti.    Yes,  what  then  ? 

Molus.    Good  wittes  wil  apply.      But  what  cheere  is  there  here 
20  this  Lent  ? 

Criti.    Fish. 

Molus.    I  can  eate  none,  it  is  winde. 

9  is  it  Q1 :   it  is  Qz  BL  F.  16  trauell  Q1 :    trauaile  Qz  Bl.  F.  22 

winde  Ql :  windie  £'2  Bl.  F\ 


394  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  [ACT  in 

Criti.    Egges. 

Molus.    I  must  eate  none,  they  are  fire. 

Criti.    Cheese.  25 

Molus.   It  is  against  the  old  verse,  Caseus  est  nequam. 

Criti.    Yea,  but  it  disgesteth  all  things  except  it  selfe. 

Molus.  Yea,  but  if  a  man  hath  nothing  els  to  eate,  what  shall 
it  disgest  ? 

Criti.    You   are   disposed  to  iest.      But  if  your  silkg  throat  can  30 
swallow  no  packthread,  you  must  pick  your  teeth,  and  play  with  your 
trencher. 

Molus.  So  shall  I  not  incurre  the  fulsome  &  vnmannerly  sinne 
of  surfetting.  But  here  commeth  Calipho. 

{Enter  CALYPHO.) 

Criti.    Whatnewes?  35 

Caly.  Since  my  being  here,  I  haue  sweat  like  a  dogge,  to  proue 
my  maister  a  deuill ;  hee  brought  such  reasons  to  refel  me,  as 
I  promise  you,  I  shall  like  the  better  of  his  witte,  as  long  as  I  am 
with  him  ? 

Molus.    How  ?  4° 

Caly.  Thus,  I  alwayes  arguing  that  he  had  homes,  &  therefore 
a  diuell,  hee  saide  :  foole,  they  are  things  lyke  homes,  but  no  homes. 
For  once  in  the  Senate  of  Gods  being  holde  a  solemn  session,  in 
the  midst  of  their  talk  I  put  in  my  sentence,  which  was  so  indif 
ferent,  that  they  all  concluded  it  might  aswel  haue  beene  lefte  out,  45 
as  put  in,  and  so  placed  on  each  side  of  my  head  things  lyke 
homes,  and  called  me  a  Parenthesis.  Nowe  my  maisters,  this  may  be 
true,  for  I  haue  scene  it  my  selfe  aboute  diuerse  sentences. 

Molus.  It  is  true,  and  the  same  time  did  Mars  make  a  full  point, 
that  Vulcans  head  was  made  a  Parenthesis.  5° 

Criti.  This  shall  go  with  me  :  I  trust  in  Syracusa  to  giue  one  or 
other  a  Parenthesis. 

Molus.    Is  Venus  yet  come  home  ? 

Caly.    No,  but  were  I  Vulcan,  I  would  by  the  Gods — 

Criti.    What  wouldest  thou  ?  55 

Caly.    Nothing,  but  as  Vulcan,  halt  by  the  Gods. 

Criti.    I  thought  you  would  haue  hardly  entreated  Venus. 

Caly.    Nay,  Venus  is  easily  entreated  :  but  let  that  goe  bie. 

24  fire  so  all      38  like  Q*  :  thinke  Q'*  Bl.  F.        43  holde  Q1 :  holden  Q*  Bl.  F. 


395 


sc.ii]  SAPHO   AND   PHAO 

Criti.    What? 
60      Caly.    That  which  maketh  so  many  Parenthesis. 

Molus.  I  must  goe  by  too,  or  els  my  maister  will  not  go  by 
mee :  but  meete  me  full  with  his  fiste.  Therfore,  if  we  shall  sing, 
giue  me  my  part  quickly :  for  if  I  tarrie  long,  I  shall  cry  my  parte 
wofully. 

SONG. 


75 


80 


90 


Omnes. 

Caly. 

Molus. 

Criti. 

Molus. 


Caly. 
Molus. 


Criti. 

Molus. 

Caly. 


Criti. 
Molus. 


Caly. 
Molus. 
Criti. 
Caly. 

Molus. 
Omnes. 


A  Rme,  Arme,  the  Foe  comes  on  apace. 

Whats  that  red  Nose,  and  sulphury  face  ? 
Tis  the  hot  Leader. 

Whats  his  Name? 

Bacchus,  a  Captaine  of  plumpe  fame : 
A  Goat  the  Beast  on  which  he  rides, 
Fat  grunting  swine  run  by  his  sides, 
His  Standerd-bearer  feares  no  knockes, 
For  he's  a  drunken  Butter-box, 
Who  when  ith'  Red  field  thus  he  reuels, 
Cryes  out,  '  ten  towsan  Tunne  of  Tiuells  ! ' 
Whats  he  so  swaggers  in  the  Van  ? 
O !   thats  a  roring  Englishman, 
Who  in  deepe  healths  do's  so  excell, 
From  Dutch  and  French  he  beares  the  bel. 
What  Victlers  follow  Bacchus  Campes  ? 
Fooles,  Fidlers,  Panders,  Pimpes,  and  Rampes. 
See,  see,  the  Battaile  now  growes  hot, 
Here  legs  flye,  here  goes  Heads  to  th'  Pot, 
Here  Whores  and  Knaues  tosse  broken  glasses, 
Here  all  the  Souldiers  looke  like  Asses. 
What  man  ere  heard  such  hideous  noyse  ? 
O  !  thats  the  Vintners  bawling  Boyes. 
Anon,  Anon,  the  Trumpets  are, 
Which  call  them  to  the  fearefull  barre. 
Rush  in,  and  lets  our  forces  try. 
O  no,  for  see  they  flie,  they  flic ! 
And  so  will  I. 

And  I. 

And  I. 
Tis  a  hot  day,  in  drinke  to  die. 


Exeunt. 


s.  D.  SONG.]  QQ,  without  the  words,  which  first  appear  in  Blotmt 


396  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  [ACT  in 

SCH^ENA  TERTIA. — (SAPHO'S  Chamber.) 

SAPHO  in  her  bed,  MILETA,  ISMENA,  KANOPE,  EUGENUA,  FAUILLA, 

LAMYA. 

Sapho.  Hey  ho  :  I  know  not  which  way  to  turne  me.  Ah !  ah  ! 
I  fainte,  I  die  ! 

Mileta.  Madame,  I  thinke  it  good  you  haue  more  clothes,  and 
sweate  it  out. 

Sapho.    No,  no,  the  best  ease  I  finde  is  to  sigh  it  out.  5 

Isme.    A  straunge  disease,  that  should  breede  such  a  desire. 

Sapho.    A  strang  desire  that  hath  brought  such  a  disease. 

Canope.    Where  Ladie,  doe  you  feele  your  most  paine? 

Sapho.    Where  no  bodie  els  can  feele  it  Canope. 

Canope.    At  the  heart?  10 

Sapho.    In  the  heart. 

Canope.    Will  you  haue  any  Mithrydate  ? 

Sapho.    Yea,  if  for  this  disease  there  wer  any  Mithrydate. 

Mileta.    Why  ?  what  disease  is  it  Madam,  that  phisick  ca  not  cure  ? 

Sapho.    Onely  the  disease,  Mileta,  that  I  haue.  15 

Mileta.    Is  it  a  burning  ague  ? 

Sapho.    I  thinke  so,  or  a  burning  agonie. 

Euge.  Will  you  haue  any  of  this  Syrope,  to  moysture  your 
mouth  ? 

Sapho.    Would  I  had  some  local  things  to  dry  my  brain.  20 

Favilla.    Madame  will  you  see  if  you  can  sleepe  ? 

Sapho.    Sleepe  Fauilla  ?     I  shall  then  dreame. 

Lamia.    As  good  dreame  sleeping,  as  sigh  waking. 

Euge.  Phao  is  cunning  in  all  kind  of  simples,  and  it  is  hard,  if 
there  bee  none  to  procure  sleepe.  25 

Sapho.    Who? 

Euge.    Phao. 

Sapho.    Yea,  Phao  !  Phao  ! — ah  Phao  !  let  him  come  presetly. 

Mileta.  Shall  we  draw  the  curteines,  whilest  you  gyue  your  selfe 
to  slumber?  3° 

Sapho.  Doe,  but  departe  not :  I  haue  such  startes  in  my  sleepe, 
disquieted  I  know  not  how.  In  a  slumber. 

Phao  !  Phao ! 

18  moysture  QQ :    moysten  Bl.  F.  20  local  things  so  all  30  leaue 

before  to  Q2  BL  F.  32  In  a  slumber  old  eds. 


sc.  in]  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  397 

Isme.    What  say  you  Madame  ? 
35      Sapho.    Nothing,  but  if  I  sleepe  not  now,  you  sende  for  Phao. 

Ah  Gods ! 

Sheefalleth  asleepe.     The  Curtaines  drawne. 

Mileta.  There  is  a  fish  called  Garus,  that  healeth  al  sicknesse,  so 
as  whilest  it  is  applyed  one  name  not  Garus. 

Euge.    An  euill  medicine  for  vs  women :  for  if  we  shuld  be  for- 
40  bidden  to  name  Garus,  we  shuld  chat  nothing  but  Garus. 
Canope.    Well  said,  Eugenua,  you  know  your  selfe. 
Euge.    Yea  Canope,  and  that  I  am  one  of  your  sexe. 
Isme.    I  haue   hearde  of  an   hearbe  called  Lunary,  that  being 
bound  to  the  pulses  of  the  sick,  causeth  nothinge  but  dreames  of 
45  weddings  and  daunces. 

Favilla.  I  think  Ismena,  that  hearb  be  at  thy  pulses  now :  for 
thou  art  euer  talking  of  matches  and  merymentes. 

Canope.    It  is  an  vnlucky  signe  in  the  chamber  of  the  sick  to  talke 
of  manages  :  for  my  mother  saide,  it  foresheweth  death. 
50      Mileta.    It  is  very  euill  to(o)  Canope  to  sitte  at  the  beddes  feete, 
and   foretelleth   daunger :  therefore  remoue   your  stoole,  and  sitte 
by  me. 

Lamia.    Sure  it  is  some  cold  she  hath  taken. 
Isme.    If  one  were  burnt,  I  thinke  wee  women  woulde  say,  he  died 
55  of  a  cold. 

Favilla.    It  may  be  some  conceite. 

Mileta.  Then  is  there  no  feare  :  for  yet  did  I  neuer  heare  of 
a  woman  that  died  of  a  conceite. 

Euge.    I  mistruste  her  not :  for  that  the  owle  hath  not  shrikte  at 
60  the  window,  or  the  night  Rauen  croked,  both  being  fatall. 

Favilla.  You  are  all  superstitious  :  for  these  bee  but  fancies  of 
doting  age :  who  by  chance  obseruing  it  in  some,  haue  set  it  downe 
as  a  religion  for  all. 

Mileta.    Fauilla,    thou   art   but   a   Girle :    I    would   not  haue   a 
65  Weesel  crye,  nor  desire  to  see  a  Glasse,  nor  an  old  wife  come  into 
my  chamber ;  for  then  though  I  lyngred  in  my  disease,  I  should 
neuer  escape  it. 

Sapho.    Ah,   whoe  is  there?  {The  curtains  again  drawn   back) 
what  sodeine  affrightes  bee  these?     Me  thought  Phao  came  with 
70  simples  to  make  me  sleep.     Did  no  bodie  name  Phao  beefore  I 
beganne  to  slumber  ? 

44  causeth  Q1 :  cause  Q2  BL  F. 


398  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  [ACT  m 

Mikta.    Yes,  we  told  you  of  him. 

Sapho.    Let  him  be  heere  too  morow. 

Mikta.    He  shall,  will  you  haue  a  litle  broth  to  comforte  you  ? 

Sapho.    I  can  relish  nothing.  75 

Mikta.    Yet  a  little  you  must  take  to  sustaine  nature. 

Sapho.    I  cannot  Mileta,  I  will  not.     Oh,  which  way  shall  I  lye  ? 
what  shall  I  doe  ?     Heygh  ho !  O  Mileta,  help  to  reare  me  vp,  my 
bed,  my  head  lyes  too  lowe.     You  pester  mee  with  too  many  clothes. 
Fie,  you  keepe  the  chamber  too  hotte  ! — auoide  it !  it  may  be  I  shall  80 
steale  a  nappe  when  all  are  gone. 

Mikta.    Wee  will.  {Exeunt  all  the  Ladies.) 

Sapho  sola.  Ah  !  impacient  disease  of  loue,  and  Goddesse  of  loue 
thrise  vnpitifull.  The  Eagle  is  neuer  stricken  with  thunder,  nor  the 
Olyue  with  lightning,  and  maye  great  Ladies  be  plagued  with  loue  ?  85 

0  Venus,  haue  I  not  strawed  thine  Altars  with  sweete  roses  ?  kepte 
thy  swannes  in  cleare  ryuers  ?  fead  thy  sparrowes  with  ripe  corne, 
&  harboured   thy  doues   in   faire   houses?     Thy  Tortoys  haue  I 
nourished  vnder  my  fig  tree,  my  chaber  haue  I  ceeled  with  thy 
Cockleshels,  &  dipped  thy  spung  into  the  freshest  waters.     Didst  90 
thou  nourse  me  in  my  swadling  clouts  with  wholsome  hearbes,  that 

1  might  perish  in  my  flowring  yeares  by  fancie  ?     I  perceiue,  but  to 
late  I  perceiue,  and  yet  not  too  late,  because  at  last,  that  straines 
are  caught  aswell  by  stooping  too  low,  as  reaching  to  high :  that  eies 
are  bleared  as  soone  with  vapours  that  come  from  the  earth,  as  with  95 
beames  that  precede  from  the  sunne.     Loue  lodgeth  sometimes  in 
caues  :  &  thou  Phoebus,  that  in  the  pride  of  thy  hearte  shinest  all 
day  in  our  Horizon,  at  night  dippest  thy  head  in  the  Ocean.     Resiste 

it  Sapho,  whilest  it  is  yet  tender.  Of  Acornes  comes  Oakes,  of 
droppes  floudes,  of  sparkes  flames,  of  Atomies  Elementes.  But  alas  J°0 
it  fareth  with  mee  as  with  waspes,  who  feeding  on  serpents,  make 
their  stings  more  venomous  :  for  glutting  my  selfe  on  the  face  of 
Phao,  I  haue  made  my  desire  more  desperate.  Into  the  neast  of  an 
Alcyon  no  birde  can  enter  but  the  Alcyon,  and  into  the  hart  of  so 
great  a  Ladie  can  any  creep  but  a  great  Lord?  There  is  an  hearbe  i°5 
(not  vnlike  vnto  my  loue)  whiche  the  further  it  groweth  from  the  sea, 
the  salter  it  is ;  and  my  desires  the  more  they  swarue  from  reason, 
the  more  seeme  they  reasonable.  When  Phao  commeth,  what  the"  ? 
wilt  thou  open  thy  loue  ?  Yea.  No  !  Sapho  :  but  staring  in  his  face 

90  spung  QQ:    sponge  Bl.  F.  97  hearte  Ql :    heate  Qz  Bl.  F.  99 

comes  so  all 


sc.  m]  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  399 

no  till  thine  eies  dasell,  and  thy  spirites  fainte,  die  before  his  face  :  then 
this  shall  be  written  on  thy  Tomb,  that  though  thy  loue  were  greater 
then  wisdome  could  endure,  yet  thine  honour  was  such,  as  loue 
could  not  violate.—  Mileta  ! 


(Re-enter  MILETA 

Mileta.    I  come. 

115  Sapho.  It  wil  not  be,  I  can  take  no  reste,  which  way  soeuer 
I  turne. 

Mileta.    A  straunge  maladie  ! 

Sapho.    Mileta,  if  thou  wilt,  a  Martiredom.     But  giue  me  my  lute, 
and  I  will  see  if  in  songe  I  can  beguile  mine  owne  eies. 
120      Mileta.    Here  Madame. 

Sapho.    Haue  you  sent  for  Phao  ? 
Mileta.    Yea. 

Sapho.    And  to  bring  simples  that  will  procure  sleepe  ? 
Mileta.    No. 

I25  Sapho.  Foolish  wensh,  what  should  the  boy  doe  heere,  if  he  bring 
not  remedies  with  him  ?  you  thinke  belike  I  could  sleep,  if  I  did  but 
see  him.  Let  him  not  come  at  al  :  yes,  let  him  come  :  no,  it  is  no 
matter  :  yet  will  I  trie,  lette  him  come  :  doe  you  heare  ? 

Mileta.    Yea  Madame,  it  shall  be  doone.     (She  comes  from  the 
130  recess.)     Peace,  no  noise  :  shee  beginneth  to  fall  asleepe.     I  will  goe 
to  Phao. 

Isme.  Goe  speedily  :  for  if  she  wake,  and  finde  you  not  heere, 
shee  will  bee  angry.  Sicke  folkes  are  testie,  who  though  they  eate 
nothing,  yet  they  feede  on  gall. 

(Exit  MILETA  while  ISMENA  retires.) 

SONG. 

135     Sapho.  r\  Cruell  Loue  !  on  thee  I  lay 

^^^     My  curse,  which  shall  strike  blinde  the  Day: 

Neuer  may  sleepe  with  veluet  hand 

Charme  thine  eyes  with  Sacred  wand  ; 

Thy  laylours  shalbe  Hopes  and  Feares; 
14°  Thy  Prison-mates,  Grones,  Sighes,  and  Teares  ; 

Thy  Play  to  weare  out  weary  times, 

Phantasticke  Passions,  Uowes,  and  Rimes  ; 

no  and  old  eds.  :  F.  misprints  any  s.  D.  [Exit  MILETA,  &c.]  prev.  eds.  contain 
no  stage-  direction  s.  D.  SONG.]  QQ  have  The  Song;  Bl.  alone  of  old  eds. 

gives  the  words 


400  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  [ACTJII 

Thy  Bread  bee  frownes,  thy  Drinke  bee  Gall, 

Such  as  when  you  Phao  call 

The  Bed  thou  lyest  on  by  Despaire;  145 

Thy  sleepe,  fond  dreames ;  thy  dreames  long  Care ; 

Hope  (like  thy  foole)  at  thy  Beds  head, 

Mocke  thee,  till  Madnesse  strike  thee  Dead; 
As  Phao,  thou  dost  mee,  with  thy  proud  Eyes; 

In  thee  poore  Sapho  Hues,  for  thee  shee  dies.  150 

(The  curtains  close.} 

SCH^NA  QUARTA. — (The  same.) 

MlLETA,  PHAO,  ISMENA,  SAPHO,  VENUS. 

(Enter  MILETA  and  PHAO.} 

Mileta.  I  woulde  eyther  your  cunning,  Phao,  or  your  fortune 
might  by  simples  prouoke  my  Lady  to  some  slumber. 

Phao.  My  simples  are  in  operation  as  my  simplicitie  is,  which  if 
they  do  litle  good,  assuredly  they  can  doe  no  harme. 

Mileta.    Were  I  sicke,  the  verye  sight  of  thy  faire  face  would  driue  5 
me  into  a  sound  sleepe. 

Phao.  Indeede  Gentlewomen  are  so  drowsie  in  their  desires,  that 
they  can  scarce  hold  vp  their  eies  for  loue. 

Mileta.  I  meane  the  delight  of  bewtie  would  so  blinde  my  senses, 
as  1  shoulde  bee  quickly  rocked  into  a  deepe  rest.  10 

Phao.  You  women  haue  an  excuse  for  an  aduauntage,  which  must 
be  allowed :  because  onely  to  you  women  it  was  allotted. 

Mileta.    Phao,  thou  art  passing  faire,  &  able  to  drawe  a  chaste  eie 
not  only  to  glaunce,  but  to  gaze  on  thee.     Thy  yong  yeares,  thy 
quick  wit,  thy  staied  desires  are  of  force  to  controll  those  which  15 
should  commaund. 

Phao.  Lady,  I  forgot  to  commend  you  first,  and  leaste  I  shoulde 
haue  ouerslipped  to  praise  you  at  all,  you  haue  brought  in  my 
bewtie,  which  is  simple,  that  in  curtisie  I  might  remember  yours, 
which  is  singular.  20 

Mileta.    You  mistake  of  purpose,  or  miscoster  of  malice. 

Phao.  I  am  as  farre  from  malice,  as  you  from  loue,  &  to  mistake 
of  purpose,  were  to  mislike  of  peeuishnes. 

144  call  I  omit  Blounfs  comma  here  148  Mocke]  /  emend  Mockes  ofBL  F. 
S.  D.  [The  curtains  close]  not  in  prev.  eds.  but  necessitated  by  the  ensuing  dialogue 
S.  D.  SCH^NA  QUARTA.]  Actus  tertius,  Schaena  prima  old  eds.  2  Ladies  Bl. 

9  blinde  Q  :  bind  Q*  BL  F.  12  allowed  :  Q1 :  allowed,  Q'2  Bl.  F, 


sc.iv]  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  401 

Mileta.   As  far  as  I  from  loue?     Why,  think   you   me   so  dul 
25  I  cannot  loue,  or  so  spitefull  I  will  not? 

Phao.  Neither  Lady  :  but  how  shoulde  men  imagine  women  can 
loue,  when  in  their  mouths  there  is  nothing  rifer,  then  *  in  faith  I  do 
not  loue.' 

Mileta.    Why,  wil  you  haue  worries  loue  in  their  tongs  ? 
30      Phao.   Yea,  els  do  I  think  there  is  none  n  their  harts. 
Mileta.   Why? 

Phao.  Because  there  was  neuer  any  thing  in  the  bottS  of  a 
womans  hart,  that  commeth  not  to  her  tongs  end. 

Mileta.    You  are  too  young  to  cheapen  loue. 
35      Phao.   Yet  old  ynough  to  talke  with  market  folkes. 
Mileta.   Well,  let  vs  in. 

{  The  curtains  are  drawn  back. ) 

Isme.   Phao  is  come. 

Sapho.  Who  ?    Phao  ?     Phao,  let  him  come  neere  :  but  who  sent 
for  him  ? 
40      Mileta.   You  Madame. 

Sapho.  I  am  loath  to  take  any  medicins :  yet  must  I  rather  the 
pine  in  these  maladies.  Phao,  you  may  make  me  sleepe,  if  you  will ! 

(Exeunt  MILETA  and  ISMENA.) 
Phao.    If  I  can,  I  must,  if  you  will! 
Sapho.    What  hearbes  haue  you  brought  Phao  ? 

45      Phao.    Such  as  will  make  you  sleepe  Madame,  though  they  cannot 
make  me  slumber. 

Sapho.  Why,  how  can  you  cure  me,  when  you  cannot  remedy 
your  selfe  ? 

Phao.   Yes  Madame,  the  causes  are  contrary.     For  it  is  onely 
50  a  drinesse  in  your  braines,  that  keepeth  you  from  rest ;  but — 
Sapho.    But  what  ? 
Phao.    Nothing,  but  mine  is  not  so. 

Sapho.   Nay,  then  I  despaire  of  helpe,  if  our  disease  bee  not  all  one. 
Phao.    I  would  our  diseases  were  all  one. 

55      Sapho.    It  goes   hard  with   the   pacient,    wh6   the    Phisition    is 
desperate. 

Phao.  Yet  Medaea  made  the  euerwaking  Dragon  to  snorte,  when 
$hee  poore  soule  could  not  winke. 

27-8  'in  faith  . .  .  loue'  the  inverted  commas  are  mine,  F.  italicizes  32  was 
so  all.  Qy.  ?  is  for  was  or  cumefar  commeth 

BOND  II  D  d 


402  SAPHO  AND  PHAO  [ACTIII 

Sapho.  Medaea  was  in  loue,  &  nothing  could  cause  her  rest  but 
lason.  60 

Phao.  Indeede  I  know  no  hearb  to  make  louers  sleepe  but 
Heartes  ease,  which  beecause  it  groweth  so  high,  I  cannot  reach : 
for— 

Sapho.    For  whom  ? 

Phao.    For  such  as  loue.  65 

Sapho.    It  groweth  very  low,  and  I  can  never  stoope  to  it,  that — 

Phao.    That  what  ? 

Sapho.   That  I  may  gather  it :  but  why  doe  you  sigh  so,  Phao  ? 

Phao.    It  is  mine  vse  Madame. 

Sapho.    It  will  doe  you  harme,  and  mee  too :  for  I  neuer  heare  70 
one  sighe,  but  I  must  sigh't  also. 

Phao.  It  were  best  then  that  your  Ladyship  giue  mee  leaue  to  be 
gone  :  for  I  can  but  sigh. 

Sapho.    Nay  stay :  for  now  I  beginne  to  sighe,  I  shall  not  leaue, 
though  you  be  gone.     But  what  do  you  thirike  best  for  your  sighing  75 
to  take  it  away  ? 

Phao.   Yew  Madame. 

Sapho.    Mee  ? 

Phao.    No  Madame,  yewe  of  the  tree. 

Sapho.    Then  will  I  loue  yewe  the  better.     And  indeede  I  think  2o 
it  would  make  mee  sleepe  too,  therfore  all  other  simples  set  aside, 
I  will  simply  vse  onely  yewe. 

Phao.  Doe  madame :  for  I  think  nothing  in  the  world  so  good 
as  yewe. 

Sapho.    Farewell  for  this  time.  85 

(He  comes  from  the  recess,  the  curtains  closing  behind  him.  Enter 
VENUS  and  CUPID.  ) 

Venus.    Is  not  your  name  Phao  ? 

Phao.    Phao,  faire  Venus,  whom  you  made  so  faire. 

Venus.  So  passing  faire !  O  faire  Phao,  O  sweete  Phao :  what 
wilt  thou  doe  for  Venus  ? 

Phao.  Any  thing  that  commeth  in  the  compasse  of  my  poore  fortune.  90 

Venus.  Cupid  shal  teach  thee  to  shoote,  &  I  will  instruct  thee  to 
dissemble. 

62  reach:  for,  QQ:  reach  for.  Bl.  F.  66  groweth  Ql:   stoopeth  Q2  Bl.  F. 

68  sigh  Q*  Bl.  F. :   sight  Q?         71  sigh't]  sight  Q1 :  sigh  Qz  Bl.F.       S.D.  [He 
comes  .  . .  CUPID]  no  stage-direction  in  f  rev.  eds.  91-2  to  dissemble  QQ: 

in  dissembling  Bl.  F. 


sc.iv]  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  403 

Phao.    I  will  learne  any  thing  but  dissembling. 

Venus.   Why  my  boy  ? 
95      Phao.    Because  then  I  must  learne  to  be  a  woman. 

Venus.    Thou  heardest  that  of  man. 

Phao.    Men  speake  trueth. 

Venus.    But  truth  is  a  she,  and  so  alwaies  painted. 

Phao.    I  thinke  a  painted  trueth. 
oo       Venus.    Well,  farewell  for  this  time  :  for  I  must  visit  Sapho. 

Phao  exit. 


ACTUS   QUARTUS 

SCILENA  PRIMA. — (  The  same.    The  curtains  are  drawn  back. ) 
VENUS,  SAPHO,  CUPID. 

Venus.    Sapho,  I  haue  heard  thy  complaintes,  and  pittied  thine 
agonies. 

Sapho.    O  Venus,  my  cares  are  onely  knowne  to  thee,  and  by  thee 
only  came  the  cause.     Cupid,  why  didst  thou  wound  me  so  deepe  ? 
5      Cupid.    My  mother  bad  me  draw  mine  arrow  to  ye  head. 

Sapho.    Venus,  why  didst  thou  proue  so  hatefull  ? 

Venus.    Cupid  tooke  a  wrong  shafte. 

Sapho.    O  Cupid  too  vnkinde,  to  make  me  so  kind,  that  almost 
I  transgresse  the  modestie  of  my  kinde. 
10      Cupid.    I  was  blind,  and  could  not  see  mine  arrow. 

Sapho.    How  came  it  to  passe,  thou  didst  hit  my  hearte  ? 

Cupid.    That  came  by  the  nature  of  the  head,  which  being  once 
let  out  of  the  bowe,  ca  finde  none  other  lighting  place  but  the  heart. 

Venus.    Be  not  dismaide,  Phao  shall  yeelde. 

15  Sapho.  If  hee  yeelde,  then  shal  I  shame  to  embrace  one  so 
meane ;  if  not,  die,  because  I  cannot  embrace  one  so  meane.  Thus 
doe  I  finde  no  meane. 

Venus.    Well,  I  will  worke  for  thee.     Farewell. 

Sapho.    Farewell  sweet  Venus,  and  thou  Cupid,  which  art  sweetest 
20  in  thy  sharpenesse.  Exit  Sapho. 

S.  D.  Phao  exit  so  old  eds.,  showing  Acts  Hi  and  iv  to  be  continuous  5  y« 

Ql :  the  Q*  Bl.  F.  16  meane,  if  not,  die  :  because  old  eds.  :  meane, — if  not 

die ;   because  F.          S.  D.  Exit  Sapho  so  old  eds.  i.  e.  the  curtains  close  again, 
leaving  Venus  and  Cupid  on  the  stage 

D  d  2 


404  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  [ACTIV 

SCH^ENA  SECUNDA.—  {The  same.) 
VENUS,  CUPID. 

Venus.    Cupid,  what  haste  thou  done  ?  put  thine  arrowes  in  Phaoes 
eies,  and  wounded  thy  mothers  heart  ? 

Cupid.   You  gaue  him  a  face  to  allure,  then  why  should  not  I  giue 
him  eies  to  pearce  ? 

Venus.    O  Venus  !  vnhappy  Venus  !  who  in  bestowinge  a  benefit  5 
vpon  a  man,  haste  brought  a  bane  vnto  a  Goddesse.    What  perplexi 
ties  dost  thou  feele !     O  faire  Phao  !   and  therefore  made  faire  to 
breede  in  me  a  frenzie !     O  would  that  when  I  gaue  thee  golden 
locks  to  curie  thy  head,  I  had  shackled  thee  with  yron  lockes  on 
thy  feete  !     And  when  I  noursed  thee,  Sapho,  with  lettice,  woulde  it  10 
had  turned  to  hemlocke  !     Haue  I  brought  a  smooth  skin  ouer  thy 
face,  to  make  a  rough  scarre  in  my  heart  ?   and  giuen  thee  a  fresh 
colour  like  the  damask  rose,  to  make  mine  pale  like  the  stained 
Turkic  ?     O  Cupid,  thy  flames  with  Psyches  were  "but  sparks,  and 
my  desires  with  Adonis  but  dreames,  in  respecte  of  these  vnac-  15 
quainted  tormentes.    Laugh  luno  !  Venus  is  in  loue  ;  but  luno  shall 
not  see  with  whom,  least  shee  be  in  loue.     Venus  belike  is  become 
stale.     Sapho  forsooth  because  she  hath  many  vertues,  therfore  she 
must  haue  all  the  fauours.     Venus  waxeth  old :  and  then  she  was 
a  pretie  wench,  when  luno  was  a  young  wife,  nowe  crowes  foote  is  20 
on  her  eie,  and  the  blacke  oxe  hath  troad  on  her  foote.     But  were 
Sapho  neuer  so  vertuous,  doth  she  thinke  to  contend  with  Venus  to 
be  as  amorous  ?     Yeelde  Phao  !  but  yeeld  to  me  Phao :  I  entreate 
where  I  may  command ;   commaunde  thou,  where  thou  shouldest 
entreate.    In  this  case  Cupid  what  is  thy  cousell  ?    Venus  must  both  25 
play  the  louer  &  the  dissembler,  &  therfore  the  dissembler,  because 
the  Louer. 

Cupid.   You  will  euer  be  playing  with  arrows,  like  childre  with 
kniues,  &  the  when  you  bleede,  you  cry  :  go  to  Vulcan,  entreat  by 
praiers,  threats  with  blowes,  wowe  with  kisses,  banne  with  curses,  trie  30 
al  meanes  to  rid  these  extremities. 

Venus.   To  what  end  ? 

Cupid.   That  he  might  make  mee  new  arrowes :  for  nothing  can 
roote  out  the  desires  of  Phao,  but  a  new  shafte  of  inconstancie,  nor 

9  on  QQ  BL  :  in  F.          14  Turkic  QQ :  Turkis  Bl.  F.  Psyches  QQ  Bl : 

Psyche's  F.   Cf.  p.  455  /.  K^andEuph.  Pt.  II,  p.  117  Circes  for  Circe  29  you 

cry :  Q*  rightly  for  you  cry,  £l         30  wowe  Ql  :  wooe  Q*  Bl.  F.  Cf.  pp.  379,  409 


sc.ii]  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  405 

35  any  thing  turne  Saphoes  hart,  but  a  new  arrow  of  disdaine.     And 

then    they   dislyking   one    the   other,    who   shall    inioy   Phao    but 

Venus  ? 

Venus.    I  will  follow  thy  counsell.     For  Venus,  though  she  be 

in  her  latter  age  for  yeares  :  yet  is  she  in  her  Nonage  for  affections. 
40  When  Venus  ceaseth  to  loue,  let  loue  cease  to  rule.     But  come,  let 

vs  to  Vulcan.  Exeunt. 

SCHLENA  TERTIA. — {The  same.      The  curtains  again  drawn  back.) 

SAPHO,  MlLETA,  ISMENA,  EUGENUA, 
LAMYA,  FAUILLA,  CANOPE. 

Sapho.    What  dreames  are  these  Mileta?   and  can  there  be  no 

trueth  in   dreams  ?   yea,  dreams   haue   their   trueth.     Me  thought 

I  saw  a  Stockdoue  or  woodquist,  I  knowe  not  how  to  tearm  it,  that 

brought  short  strawes  to  build  his  neast  in  a  tall  Caedar,  where,  whiles 

5  with  his  bill  hee  was  framing  his  buylding,  he  lost  as  many  fethers 

from  his  wings,  as  he  laid  strawes  in  his  neast :    yet  scambling  to 

catch  hold  to  harbor  in  the  house  he  had  made,  he  sodenly  fell 

from  the  bough  where  he  stoode.     And  the  pitifully  casting  vp  his 

eies,  he   cried   in   such   tearmes  (as  I  imagined)  as   might   either 

10  codemne  the  nature  of  such  a  tree,  or  the  daring  of  such  a  minde. 

Whilest  he  lay  quaking  vpo  the  ground,  &  I  gazing  one  the  Caeder, 

I  might  perceiue  Antes  to  breede  in  the  rinde,  coueting  only  to 

hoord,  &  caterpillers  to  cleaue  to  the  leaues,  labouring  only  to  suck, 

which  caused  mo  leaues  to  fall  fro  the  tree,  the  there  did  feathers 

15  before  fro  the  doue.     Me  thought  Mileta  I  sighed  in  my  sleepe, 

pittying  both  the  fortune  of  the  bird,  &  the  misfortun  of  the  tree : 

but  in  this  time  quils  began  to  bud  againe  in  the  bird,  which  made 

him  looke  as  though  he  would  flie  vp,  and  then  wished  I  that  the 

body  of  the  tree  woulde  bowe,  that  hee  might  but  creepe  vp  the  tree ; 

20  then — and  so —     Hey  ho  ! 

Mileta.    And  so  what  ? 

Sapho.  Nothing  Mileta  :  but,  and  so  I  waked.  But  did  no  bodie 
dreame  but  I  ? 

Mileta.    I  dreamed  last  night,  but  I  hope  dreames  are  contrary, 

40  loue  QQ :  loue  Bl.  F.          4  whiles  Ql :  whilst  Q*  Bl.  F.  6  scambling 

QQ  BL\    scrambling/^.  iione^1:    on  @2  Bl.  F.    Cf.  p.  408  141110 

Ql :  moe  Q'2  Bl.  F.  19-20  tree;  then,  and  so —  F. :  tree,  then  and  so.  Ql : 

tree  then  and  so,  Q2  :  tree,  then  and  so,  Bl. 


4o6  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  [ACT  iv 

that  holding  my  heade  ouer  a  sweete  smoke,  al  my  haire  blazd  on  25 
a  bright  flame.  Me  thought  Ismena  cast  water  to  quench  it :  yet 
the  sparks  fell  on  my  bosom,  and  wiping  them  away  with  my  hand, 
I  was  all  in  a  gore  bloud,  till  one  with  a  few  fresh  flowers  staunched 
it.  And  so  stretching  my  self  as  stif,  I  started,  it  was  but  a 
dream.  30 

Isme.  It  is  a  signe  you  shall  fall  in  loue  with  hearinge  faire  words. 
Water  signifieth  counsell,  flowers  death.  And  nothing  can  purge 
your  louing  humour  but  death. 

Mileta.  You  are  no  interpreter  :  but  an  interprater,  harping  alwaies 
vpon  loue,  till  you  be  as  blind  as  a  Harpar.  35 

Isme.  I  remember  last  night  but  one,  I  dreamed  mine  eie  tooth 
was  lose,  &  that  I  thrust  it  out  with  my  tonge. 

Mileta.  It  foretelleth  the  losse  of  a  friende :  and  I  euer  thought 
thee  so  ful  of  prattle,  that  thou  wouldest  thrust  out  the  best  friend 
with  thy  tatling.  40 

Isme.  Yea  Mileta  :  but  it  was  loose  beefore,  and  if  my  friend  bee 
lose,  as  good  thrust  out  with  plaine  words,  as  kept  in  with  dissem 
bling. 

Euge.    Dreams  are  but  dotings,  which  come  either  by  things  wee 
see  in  the  day,  or  meates  that  we  eate,  and  so  (flatter)  the  common  45 
sense,  preferring  it  to  bee  the  imaginatiue. 

Isme.  Softe  Philosophatrix,  well  scene  in  the  secretes  of  arte,  and 
not  seduced  with  the  superstitions  of  nature  ! 

Sap/io.    Ismenaes  tongue  neuer  lyeth  still,  I  think  all  her  teeth  will 
bee  loose,  they  are  so  often  iogged  againste  her  tongue.     But  say  on  50 
Eugenua. 

Euge.    There  is  all. 

Sapho.    What  did  you  dreame,  Canope  ? 

Canape.  I  seldome  dreame  Madame  :  but  sithence  your  sicknesse, 
I  cannot  tell  whether  with  ouer  watching  but  I  haue  had  many  55 
phantastical  visions,  for  euen  now  slumbring  by  your  beddes  side, 
mee  thought  I  was  shadowed  with  a  clowd,  where  labouring  to  vn- 
wrap  my  selfe,  I  was  more  intangled.  But  in  the  midst  of  my 
striuing,  it  seemed  to  mysell  gold,  with  faire  drops;  I  filled  my 
lap,  and  running  to  shew  it  my  fellowes,  it  turned  to  duste,  I  60 

29  stif,  F.  inserts  the  comma  40  thy  Q*  Bl.  F. :  the  Ql  41  Yea  om. 

Bl.  F.  46  bee  the  imaginatiue  Ql :  be  imaginatiue  Q'2  Bl.  F.     The  comma  at 

sense,  with  flatter,  are  my  insertion  47  the  om.  Bl.  F.  55  ouer  Ql  : 

our  Q*  Bl.  F.  59  mysell   QQ  (see  note} :  my  selfe  Bl.  F.,  though  F.  rightly 

substitutes  semicolon  for  comma  at  drops 


sc.  m]  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  407 

blushed,  they  laughed ;  and  then  I  waked,  being  glad  it  was  but  a 
dream  e. 

Isme.    Take  heede  Canope,  that  gold  tempt  not  your  lappe,  and 
then  you  blush  for  shame. 

65      Canope.    It  is  good  lucke  to  dreame  of  gold. 
Isjne.   Yea,  if  it  had  continued  gold. 

Lamia.  I  dreame  euery  night,  and  the  last  night  this.  Me  thought 
that  walking  in  the  sunne,  I  was  stung  with  the  flye  Tarantula,  whose 
venom  nothing  can  expell  but  the  sweete  consent  of  musicke.  I 
70  tried  all  kinde  of  instruments,  but  found  no  ease,  till  at  the  last  two 
Lutes  tuned  in  one  key  so  glutted  my  thirsting  eares,  that  my  griefe 
presently  seased,  for  ioye  whereof  as  I  was  clapping  my  handes,  your 
Ladyship  called. 

Mileta.    It  is  a  signe  that  nothing  shall  asswage  your  loue  but 

75  mariage :  for  such  is  the  tying  of  two  in  wedlocke,  as  is  the  tuning 

of  two  Lutes  in  one  key :    for  strikinge  the  stringes  of  the  one, 

strawes  will  stirre  vpon  the"  stringes  of  the  other,  and  in  two  mindes 

lincked  in  loue,  one  cannot  be  delighted  but  the  other  reioyceth. 

Favilla.    Mee   thought   going   by  the   sea   side   amonge  Pebels 

80  I  sawe  one  playing  with  a  rounde  stone,  euer  throwing  it  into  the 

water,  when  the  sunne  shined :  I  asked  the  name,  hee  saide,  it  was 

called  Abeston,  which  being  once  whotte,  would  neuer  be  cold,  he 

gaue  it  me,  and  vanished.     I  forgetting  my  selfe,  delighted  with  the 

fayre  showe,  woulde  alwayes  shewe  it  by  candle  light,  pull  it  out  in 

85  the  Sunne,  and  see  ho  we  bright  it  woulde  look  in  the  fire,  where 

catching  heate,  nothing  could  coole  it :  for  anger  I  threwe  it  against 

the  wall,  and  with  the  heauing  vp  of  myne  arme  I  waked. 

Mileta.   Beware  of  loue,  Fauilla  :  for  womens  hearts  are  such  stones, 
which  warmed  by  affection,  cannot  be  coold  by  wisdome. 
90      Favilla.    I  warrant  you  :  for  I  neuer  credit  mennes  words. 

Isme.    Yet  be  warie  :  for  women  are  scorched  somtimes  with  mens 
eies,  though  they  had  rather  consume  then  confesse. 

Sapho.    Cease  your  talking :    for  I  would  faine  sleepe,  to  see  if 
I  can  dreame,  whether  the  birde  hath  feathers,  or  the  Antes  wings. 
95  Draw  the  curteine. 

(  The  curtains  close. ) 


67  thought  Qz  Bl.  F. :    though  Ql  88  womens  Q'*  Bl.  F. :   women  Ql 

89  coold  QQ:  cold  Bl.  F.  94  Antes  QQ :  Ant  Bl.  F.  95  Draw  the 

curteine  as  part  of  Sapho' s  speech  in  all  eds.,  none  having  any  stage- direction  for 
exit 


4o8  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  [ACTIV 

SCH^NA    QUARTA. — (VULCAN'S    Forge.) 

VENUS,  VULCAN,  CUPID. 

{Enter  VENUS  and  CUPID.) 

Venus.    Come  Cupid,  Vulcans  flames  must  quench  Venus  fires. 
Vulcan  ? 

(VULCAN  looks  out  of  the  Forge.) 

Vulcan.    Who? 

Venus.    Venus. 

Vulcan.    Ho,  ho  !  Venus.  5 

Venus.  Come  sweete  Vulcan,  thou  knowest  how  sweete  thou  hast 
found  Venus,  who  being  of  all  the  goddesses  the  most  faire,  hath 
chosen  thee  of  all  the  Gods  the  most  foule ;  thou  must  needes  then 
confesse  I  was  most  louing.  Enquire  not  the  cause  of  my  suite  by 
questions  :  but  preuent  the  effects  by  curtisie.  Make  me  six  arrowe  10 
heads  :  it  is  giuen  thee  of  the  Gods  by  peTmission  to  frame  them  to 
any  purpose,  I  shall  request  them  by  praier.  Why  lowrest  thou 
Vulcan  ?  wilt  thou  haue  a  kisse  ?  holde  vppe  thy  head.  Venus  hath 
young  thoughtes,  and  fresh  affections.  Rootes  haue  stringes,  when 
boughs  haue  no  leaues.  But  hearken  in  thine  eare  Vulcan  :  how  15 
saiest  thou? 

Vulcan.    Vulcan  is  a  God  with  you,  when  you  are  disposed  to 
flatter.     A  right  womanne,  whose  tongue  is  lyke  a  Bees  stinge,  which 
pricketh  deepest,  when  it  is  fullest  of  honnye.     Because  you  haue 
made  mine  eies  dronk  with  fayre  lookes,  you  wil  set  mine  eares  on  20 
edge  with  sweete  words.     You  were  woont  to  say  that  the  beating 
of  hammers  made  your  head  ake,  and  the  smoake  of  the  forge  your 
eies  water,  and  euery  coale  was  a  blocke  in  your  way.     You  weepe 
rose  water,  when  you  aske,  and  spitte  vineger,  when  you  haue  ob- 
teined.     What  would  you  now,  with  new  arrowes?  belike  Mars  hath  25 
a  tougher  skin  one  his  heart,  or  Cupid  a  weaker  arme,  or  Venus 
a  better  courage.     Well  Venus,  there  is  neuer  a  smile  in  your  face 
but  hath  made  a  wrinkle  in  my  forehead.    Ganymedes  must  fill  your 
cuppe,  and  you  wil  pledge  none  but  lupiter.     But  I  wil  not  chide 
Venus.     Come  Cyclops,  my  wife  must  haue  her  will :  let  vs  doe  that  30 
in  earth,  which  the  Gods  cannot  vndoe  in  heauen. 

Venus.    Gramercie  sweete  Vulcan  :  to  your  worke  ! 

7  gooddesses  01  12  purpose,  I  QQ  (i.e.  for  which  I  &c.)  Bl.  italicizes 

the  I  26  one  Ql :  on  Q'1  Bl.  F.     Cf.  p.  405 


sc.  iv]  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  409 

The  SONG,  in  making  of  the  Arrowes. 

Vulcan.     TV/TY  shag-haire  Cyclops,  come,  lets  ply 
Our  Lemnion  hammers  lustily; 

By  my  wifes  sparrowes, 
I  sweare  these  arrowes 
Shall  singing  fly 
Through  many  a  wantons  Eye. 
These  headed  are  with  golden"  Blisses, 
4o  These  siluer-ones  featherd  with  Kisses, 

But  this  of  Lead 
Strikes  a  Clowne  Dead, 
When  in  a  Dance 
Hee  fals  in  a  Trance, 
4£  To  se  his  black-brow  Lasse  not  busse  him, 

And  then  whines  out  for  death  t'  vntrusse  him. 
So,  so,  our  worke  being  don  lets  play, 
Holliday  (Boyes)  cry  Holliday. 

Vulcan.    Heere  Venus,  I  haue  finished  these  arrowes  by  arte,  be- 
50  stowe  them  you  by  witte :  for  as  great  aduise  must  he  vse  that  hath 
them,  as  hee  cunning  that  made  them. 

Venus.  Vulcan,  nowe  you  haue  done  with  your  forge,  lette  vs  alone, 
with  the  fancye :  you  are  as  the  Fletcher,  not  the  Archer,  to  meddle 
with  the  arrowe,  not  the  aime. 

55  Vulcan.  I  thought  so  :  when  I  haue  done  working,  you  haue  done 
woowing.  Where  is  now  sweete  Vulcan  ?  Wei,  I  can  say  no  more, 
but  this  which  is  enoughe,  and  as  much  as  any  can  say  :  Venus  is 
a  woman. 

Venus.    Bee  not  angrye  Vulcan,  I  will  loue  thee  agayne,  when 
60  I  haue  eyther  businesse,  or  nothing  els  to  doe. 

Cupid.  My  mother  will  make  muche  of  you,  when  there  are  no 
more  men  then  Vulcan. 

(VULCAN  retires  into  the  Forge.) 

S.  D.  The  Song  .  . .  Arrowes  QQ  Bl. ,  but  Blount  alone  of  old  eds.  gives  the  words 
54  arrowe  QQ :  arrows  BL  F.  56  woowing  Ql :  wooing  Q2  BL  F.  Cf. 

//•  379>  4°4  s-  D'  [VuLCAN  .  .  .  Forge]  no  direction  for  exit  in  any  previous 

edition.     Acts  iv  and  v  are  evidently  continuous ,  as  were  Acts  Hi  and  iv 


4io  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  [ACTV 


ACTUS   QUINTUS 

SCH^ENA  PRIMA. — (The  same.) 
VENUS,  CUPID. 

Venus.  Come,  Cupid,  receiue  with  thy  fathers  instruments,  thy 
mothers  instructions :  for  thou  must  be  wise  in  conceite,  if 
thou  wilt  be  fortunate  in  execution.  This  arrow  is  feathered  with 
the  winges  of  Aegitus,  which  neuer  sleepeth  for  feare  of  his  hen : 
the  heade  toucht  with  the  stone  Perillus,  which  causeth  mistruste  5 
and  ielousie.  Shoote  this,  Cupid,  at  men  that  haue  faire  wiues,  which 
will  make  them  rubbe  the  browes,  when  they  swell  in  the  braines. 
This  shaft  is  headed  with  Lidian  steel,  which  striketh  a  deepe  dis 
dain  of  yt  which  we  most  desire,  ye  feathers  are  of  Turtel,  but  dipped 
in  the  bloud  of  a  Tigresse,  draw  this  vp  close  to  the  head  at  Sapho,  10 
that  she  may  despise,  where  now  she  doates.  Good  my  boye,  gall 
her  on  the  side,  that  for  Phaos  loue  she  may  neuer  sighe.  This 
arrow  is  feathered  with  the  Phoenix  winge,  and  headed  with  the 
Eagles  bill ;  it  maketh  me  passionate  in  desires,  in  loue  constant, 
and  wise  in  conueiaunce,  melting  as  it  were  their  fancies  into  faith :  15 
this  arrowe,  sweete  childe,  and  with  as  great  ayme  as  thou  canst, 
must  Phao  be  striken  withall,  and  cry  softly  to  thy  selfe  in  the  very 
loose  *  Venus  ' !  Sweete  Cupid  mistake  me  not,  I  wil  make  a  quiuer 
for  that  by  it  selfe.  The  fourth  hath  feathers  of  the  Peacocke,  but 
glewed  with  the  gum  of  the  Mirtle  tree,  headed  with  fine  golde,  and  20 
fastened  with  brittle  Chrysocoll :  this  shoote  at  daintie  and  coy  Ladies, 
at  amiable  and  young  Nymphes,  chuse  no  other  white  but  women  : 
for  this  will  worke  lyking  in  their  mindes,  but  not  loue,  affabilitie  in 
speach,  but  no  faith,  courtly  fauours  to  bee  Mistresses  ouer  many, 
but  constant  to  none  :  sighes  to  be  fetcht  from  the  longes,  not  the  25 
heart,  and  teares  to  bee  wronge  out  with  their  fingers,  not  their  eies, 
secrete  laughing  at  mens  pale  lookes  and  neate  attire,  open  reioycinge 
at  their  owne  comlinesse  and  mens  courtinge.  Shoote  this  arrowe 
among  the  thickest  of  them,  whose  bosomes  lye  open,  because  they 
woulde  be  striken  with  it.  And  seeing  men  tearme  women  lupiters  3° 

8-9  disdain  QQ  :  daine  Bl.  F.  9  y*  Q* :  that  Q"1  BL  F.        ye  Ql :  the  Qz 

BL  F.  10  a  om.  BL  18  me  Ql :  it  Q*  BL  F.  25  longes  Ql :  lungs 

<22  Bl.  F.  26  wronge  QQ  :  wrung  BL  F. 


sc.  i]  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  411 

fooles,  women  shall  make  men  Venus  fooles.  This  shafte  is  leade 
in  the  head,  and  whose  feathers  are  of  the  night  Rauen,  a  deadly 
and  poysoned  shafte,  which  breedeth  hate  onely  against  those  which 
sue  for  loue.  Take  heede  Cupid  thou  hitte  not  Phao  with  this 

35  shafte :  for  then  shall  Venus  perishe.  This  laste  is  an  old  arrow, 
but  newlye  mended,  the  arrow  which  hitte  both  Sapho  and  Phao, 
working  onely  in  meane  mindes  an  aspiring  to  superiours,  &  in  high 
estates  a  stooping  to  inferiours  :  with  this  Cupid  I  am  galled  my  selfe, 
till  thou  haue  galled  Phao  with  the  other. 

40  Cupid.  I  warrant  you  I  will  cause  Phao  to  languishe  in  your  loue, 
and  Sapho  to  disdaine  his. 

Venus.  Goe,  loyter  not,  nor  mistake  your  shafte.  (Exit  CUPID.) 
Now  Venus,  hast  thou  plaide  a  cunning  parte,  though  not  curraunt. 
But  why  should  Venus  dispute  of  vnlawfulnesse  in  loue,  or  faith  in 

45  affection  ?  beeing  both  the  Goddesse  of  loue  and  affection  ?  knowing 
there  is  as  litle  trueth  to  be  vsed  in  loue,  as  there  is  reason.  No, 
sweete  Phao,  Venus  will  obtaine  because  she  is  Venus.  Not  thou 
loue  with  thuder  in  thy  hand,  shalt  take  him  out  of  my  hands. 
I  haue  new  arrowes  now  for  my  boy,  and  fresh  flames,  at  which  the 

5°  Gods  shall  tremble,  if  they  beginne  to  trouble  me.  But  I  will  expect 
the  euent,  and  tarye  for  Cupid  at  the  forge.  (Exit.) 

SCH^NA  SECUNDA. — (A  room  in  SAPHO'S  Palace.) 
SAPHO,  CUPID,  MILETA,  VENUS. 

Sapho.    What  hast  thou  done  Cupid  ? 

Cupid.    That  my  mother  commaunded,  Sapho. 

Sapho.    Mee  thinkes  I  feele  an  alteration  in  my  minde,  and  as  it 
were  a  withstanding  in  my  self  of  mine  own  affections. 
5       Cupid.    Then  hath  mine  arrow  his  effect. 

Sapho.    I  pray  thee  tell  me  the  cause  ? 

Cupid.    1  dare  not. 

Sapho.    Feare  nothing :    for  if  Venus  fret,  Sapho  canne  frowne, 
thou  shalt  bee  my  sonne.     Mileta,  giue  him  some  sweete  meates ; 
10  speake  good  Cupid,  and  I  will  giue  thee  many  pretie  things. 

Cupid.  My  mother  is  in  loue  with  Phao,  she  willed  mee  to  strike 
you  with  disdain  of  him,  and  him  with  desire  of  her. 

s.  D.  [Exit  CUPID]  not  in  prev.  eds.  46  there  is2  Q1 :  there  is  there  Q"2  Bl.  F. 
49  boy  QQ  :  body  Bl.  F.  s.  D  [Exit]  no  stage- direction  in  prev.  eds.  3 

Mee  Q-  Bl.  F. :  My  g1  4  withstanding  Ql :  withdrawing  Q*  Bl.  F. 


4i2  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  [ACTV 

Sapho.  O  spitefull  Venus  !  Mileta  giue  him  some  of  that.  What 
els  Cupid  ? 

Cupid.    I  could  be  euen  with  my  mother :  and  so  I  will,  if  I  shall  1 5 
call  you  mother. 

Sapho.    Yea  Cupid,  call  me  any  thing,  so  I  may  be  euen  with  her. 

Cupid.  I  haue  an  arrow,  with  which  if  I  strike  Phao,  it  will  cause 
him  to  loth  onely  Venus. 

Sapho.    Sweete  Cupid,  strike  Phao  with  it.     Thou  shalt  sitte  in  20 
my  lappe,  I  will  rocke  thee  asleepe,  and  feede  thee  with  all  these 
fine  knackes. 

Cupid.    I  will  about  it. 

Exit  CUPID. 

Sapho.    But  come  quickly  againe.     Ah  vnkinde  Venus,  is  this  thy 
promise  to  Sapho  ?     But  if  I  gette  Cuppid  from  thee,  I  my  selfe  will  25 
be  the  Queene  of  loue.     I  will  direct  these  arrowes  with  better  aime, 
and  conquer  mine  own  affections  with  greater  modesty.    Venus  heart 
shal  flame,  and  her  loue  be  as  common  as  her  crafte.     O  Mileta, 
time  hath  disclosed  that,  which  my  temperance  hath  kept  in  :  but 
sith  I  am  rid  of  the  disease,  I  will  not  be  ashamed  to  confesse  the  3° 
cause.     I  loued  Phao,  Mileta,  a  thing  vnfit  for  my  degree,  but  forced 
by  my  desire. 

Mileta.    Phao? 

Sapho.    Phao,  Mileta,  of  whom  nowe  Venus  is  inamoured. 

Mileta.    And  doe  you  loue  him  still  ?  35 

Sapho.  No,  I  feele  relenting  thoughtes,  and  reason  not  yeelding 
to  appetite.  Let  Venus  haue  him, — no,  shee  shall  not  haue  him. 
But  here  corns  Cupid. 

(Re-enter  CUPID.) 

How  now  my  boy,  haste  thou  done  it  ? 

Cupid.    Yea,  and  left   Phao  rayling  on  Venus,  and  cursing  her  40 
name :  yet  stil  sighing  for  Sapho,  and  biasing  her  vertues. 

Sapho.  Alas  poore  Phao  !  thy  extreame  loue  should  not  be  requited 
with  so  meane  a  fortune,  thy  faire  face  deserued  greater  fauours : 
I  cannot  loue,  Venus  hath  hardened  my  heart. 

(Enter  VENUS.) 

Venus.    I  meruale  Cupid  commeth  not  all  this  while.     How  now,  45 
in  Saphoes  lappe  ? 

Sapho.    Yea  Venus,  what  say  you  to  it  ?  in  Saphoes  lap. 
i ;  Yea  old  eds.  :  Yes  F.  21  these  om.  Q'z  Bl.  F.  30  I*  om.  BI. 


sc.ii]  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  413 

Venus.    Sir  boy,  come  hither. 
Cupid.    I  will  not. 

50       Venus.   What  now?    will  you  not?    hath   Sapho   made   you   so 
sawcie  ? 

Cupid.  I  wil  be  Saphoes  sonne,  I  haue  as  you  commanded  striken 
her  with  a  deepe  disdaine  of  Phao,  and  Phao  as  she  entreated  me, 
with  a  great  despite  of  you. 

55       Venus.   Vnhappy  wag,  what  hast  thou  done  ?     I  will  make  thee 
repent  it  (in)  euery  vaine  in  thy  heart. 

Sapho.    Venus,  be  not  collerick,  Cupid  is  mine,  he  hath  giuen  me 
his  Arrowes,  and  I  will  giue  him  a  new  bowe  to  shoote  in.     You  are 
not  worthy  to  be  the  Ladye  of  loue,  that  yeelde  so  often  to  the  im- 
60  pressions  of  loue.     Immodest  Venus,  that  to  satisfie  the  vnbrideled 
thoughtes  of  thy  hearte,  transgressest  so  farre  from  the  staye  of  thine 
honour !     Howe  sayest  thou  Cupid,  wilt  thou  bee  with  me? 
Cupid.    Yes. 

Sapho.    Shall  not  I  bee  on  earth  the  Goddesse  of  affections  ? 
65       Cupid.    Yes. 

Sapho.    Shall  not  I  rule  the  fansies  of  men,  and  leade  Venus  in 
chaines  like  a  captiue  ? 
Cupid.    Yes. 

Sapho.    It  is  a  good  boy  ! 

70  Venus.  What  haue  we  here?  you  the  Goddesse  of  Loue?  and 
you  her  sonne,  Cupid  ?  I  will  tame  that  proud  heart,  els  shall  the 
Gods  say,  they  are  not  Venus  friendes.  And  as  for  you,  sir  boy, 
I  will  teach  you  how  to  run  away :  you  shalbe  stript  from  toppe  to 
toe,  and  whipt  with  nettles,  not  roses.  I  will  set  you  to  blowe 
75  Vulcans  coales,  not  to  beare  Venus  quiuer,  I  will  handle  you  for 
this  geare  :  well,  I  say  no  more.  But  as  for  the  new  Mistresse  of  loue, 
— or  Lady,  I  cry  you  mercie,  I  think  you  would  be  called  a  God 
desse — you  shall  know  what  it  is  to  vsurpe  the  name  of  Venus  ! 
I  will  pull  those  plumes,  and  cause  you  to  cast  your  eyes  on  your 
80  feete,  not  your  feathers :  your  softe  hayre  will  I  turne  to  harde 
bristles,  your  tongue  to  a  stinge,  and  those  alluring  eyes  to  vnlucky- 
nes,  in  which  if  the  Gods  ayde  me  not,  I  will  cursse  the  Gods. 

Sapho.   Venus,  you  are  in  a  vaine  aunswerable  to  your  vanitie, 
whose  highe  woordes  neither  beecome  you,   nor  feare  mee.     But 
85  lette  this  suffice,  I  will  keepe  Cupid  in  dispighte  of  you,  and  yet  with 
the  contente  of  the  Gods. 

Venus.   Will  you  ?  why  then  we  shal  haue  pretie  Gods  in  heauen, 


4i4  SAPHO   AND   PHAO  [ACTV 

when  you  take  Gods  prisoners  on  earth.     Before  I  sleepe  you  shall 
both  repent,  and  finde  what  it  is  but  to  thinke  vnreuerently  of  Venus. 
Come  Cupid,  shee  knowes  not  how  to  vse  thee,  come  with  mee,  you  90 
knowe  what  I  haue  for  you  :  will  you  not  ? 

Cupid.    Not  I ! 

Venus.   Well,  I  will  be  euen  with  you  both,  &  that  shortlye. 

Exit. 

Sapho.    Cupid,  feare  not,  I  will  direct  thine  arrowes  better.    Euery 
rude  asse  shall  not  say  he  is  in  loue.     It  is  a  toye  made  for  Ladies,  95 
and  I  will  keepe  it  onely  for  Ladies. 

Cupid.    But  what  will  you  doe  for  Phao  ? 

Sapho.    I  will  wish  him  fortunate.     This  wil  I  do  for  Phao,  be 
cause  I  once  loued  Phao  :  for  neuer  shall  it  be  said  that  Sapho  loued 
to  hate,  or  that  out  of  loue  she  coulde  not  be  as  courteous,  as  she  100 
was  in  loue  passionate.     Come  Mileta,  shut  the  doore. 

Exeunt. 

SCH^ENA  TERTIA. — {Before  SYBILLA'S  Cave.) 
PHAO,  SYBILLA. 

{Enter  PHAO  to  SYBILLA  in  the  Cave.) 

Phao.    Goe  to  Sybilla,  tell  the  beginning  of  thy  loue  and  the  end  of 
thy  fortune.    And  loe  how  happilye  shee  sitteth  in  her  caue.    Sybilla  ? 

Sybi.    Phao,  welcome,  what  newes  ? 

Phao.    Venus,  the  Goddesse  of  loue,  I  loth,  Cupid  causd  it  with 
a  new  shafte.     Sapho  disdaineth  mee,  Venus  causd  it  for  a  new  5 
spite.     O   Sybilla,  if  Venus  be  vnfaithfull  in  loue,  where  shall  one 
flye  for  trueth  ?     Shee  vseth  deceite,  is  it  not  then  likely  she  will 
dispence  with  subtiltie  ?     And  being  carefull  to  commit  iniuries,  will 
shee  not  be  carelesse  to  reuenge  them  ?     I  must  nowe  fall  from  loue 
to  labour,  and  endeuour  with  mine  oare  to  gette  a  fare,  not  with  my  10 
penne  to  write  a  fancie.     Loues  are  but  smokes,  which  vanish  in  the 
seeing,  and  yet  hurte  whilest  they  are  scene.     A  Ferrie,  Phao,  no  the 
starres  cannot  call  thee  to  a  worser  fortune.     Raung  rather  ouer  the 
world,  forsweare  affections,  entreate  for   death.      O   Sapho !    thou 
haste  Cupid  in  thine  armes,  I  in  my  hearte,  thou  kissest  him  for  15 
sporte,  I  muste  curse  him  for  spite :  yet  will  I  not  curse  him  Sapho, 

8-9  subtiltie  ?  .  .  .  them  ?]  subtiltie.  .  .  .  them  1  Ql :  subtiltie  ? .  .  .  them.  Q- : 
subtiltie?  .  .  .  them,  Bl.  (them  ;  F.)  13  call  thee  to  a  I  emend  call  it  a  of  all 

frev.  eds. 


sc.  in]  SAPHO  AND   PHAO  415 

whome  thou  kissest.  This  shalbe  my  resolutio,  where  euer  I  wader 
to  be  as  I  were  euer  kneeling  before  Sapho,  my  loyalty  vnspotted, 
though  vnrewarded.  With  as  litle  malice  wil  I  goe  to  my  graue,  as 

20  I  did  lye  with  all  in  my  cradle.  My  life  shalbe  spente  in  sighing 
and  wishing,  the  one  for  my  bad  fortune,  the  other  for  Saphoes 
good. 

Sybi.  Doe  so  Phao  :  for  destinie  calleth  thee  aswell  from  Sycily  as 
from  loue.  Other  things  hange  ouer  thy  head  :  which  I  must  neither 

25  tell,  nor  thou  enquire.     And  so  farewell. 

Phao.  Farewell  Sybilla,  and  farewell  Sycily.  Thoughtes  shalbe 
thy  foode,  and  in  thy  steppes  shalbe  printed  beehinde  thee,  that 
there  was  none  so  loyall  lefte  behinde  thee.  Farewell  Syracusa,  vn- 
worthy  to  harbour  faith,  and  when  I  am  gone,  vnlesse  Sapho  be 

30  here,  vnlikely  to  harbour  any. 

(Exeunt.) 


The  Epilogue 

THey  that  treade  in  a  maze,  walke  oftentimes  in  one  path,  &  at 
the  last  come  out  where  they  entred  in.  Wee  feare  we  haue 
lead  you  all  this  while  in  a  Labyrinth  of  conceites,  diuerse  times 
hearing  one  deuice,  &  haue  now  brought  you  to  an  end,  where  we 
first  beganne.  Which  wearisome  trauaile,  you  must  impute  to  the  5 
necessitie  of  the  hystorie,  as  Theseus  did  his  labour  to  the  arte  of 
the  Labyrinth.  There  is  nothing  causeth  such  giddines,  as  going 
in  a  wheele,  neither  ca  there  any  thing  breede  such  tediousnesse,  as 
hearing  manie  words  vttered  in  a  small  compass.  But  if  you  accept 
this  dauce  of  a  Farie  in  a  circle,  wee  will  herafter  at  your  willes  10 
frame  our  fingers  to  all  formes.  And  so  we  wish  euery  one  of  you 
a  thread  to  leade  you  out  of  the  doubts,  wherwith  we  leaue  you 
intangled :  that  nothing  be  mistaken  by  our  rash  ouersightes,  nor 
misconstrued  by  your  deepe  insights. 

Imprinted  at  London  by  Thomas 
Dawson  for  Thomas  Cadman. 


The  Epilogue]  none  of  the  old  eds.  specify  whether  at  the  Blackfriars  or  at  the 
Court,  therefore  probably  used  at  both 


GALLATHEA 


£  e 


EDITIONS 

'  i.  Aprilis  1585  Gabriel  Cawood  Receaued  of  him  for  printinge  A  Commoedie 
of  Titirus  and  Galathea'  [no  sum  stated]  —  Stationers'  Register,  ii.  440  (ed.  Arb.). 
Gabriel  Cawood  was  the  publisher  of  both  Parts  of  Euphues.  The  publication  of 
Gallathea  does  not  seem  to  have  been  proceeded  with,  and  any  rights  Cawood  had 
acquired  in  it  must  have  been  cancelled  by  subsequent  arrangement. 

'  4to  Octobris  1591  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  ......  xviijd.'  Sta.  Reg.  ii.  596. 

Gallathea.  \  As  it  was  playde  before  \  the  Queenes  Maiestie  at  \  Greene-wiche,  on 
Neuiyeeres  \  day  at  Night.  \  By  the  Chyldren  of  \  Paules.  \  At  London,  \  Printed 
by  lohn  Charl-\woode  for  the  Wid-\doiu  Broome.  \  1592.  j  4°.  A,  Aij,  B-H  2  in 
fours,  H  2  verso  blank.  No  col.  (Br.  Mus.} 

Under  date  23  Aug.  1601  Gallathea,  along  with  Campaspe,  Sapho  and  Phao, 
Endimion,  and  Midas,  is  transferred  to  George  Potter  (Sta.  Reg.  iii.  191).  The 
Sixe  Covrt  Comedies  are  entered  to  Blount  under  date  Jan.  9,  1628  (Sta.  Reg.  iv. 
192).  Both  entries  quoted  under  C 


Second  ed.        Gallathea.  \  Played  before  the  Queenes  \  Maiestie  at  Greenwich,  \  on  New-yeeres 
(Blount'  s).     Day  \  at  Aright.  \  By  the    Children   of\  Pavls.  \  London,  \  Printed  by  William 

Stansby,  \  for  Edward  Blount.  \  1632.  |  I2'ri°;  occupying  sigs.  P-SII,  in  twelves, 

of  the  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies. 

Also  in  Fairholt's  edition  of  Lyly's  Dramatic  Works,  vol.  i.  1858. 


GALLATHEA 

Argument.  —  Neptune,  angered  with  the  inhabitants  of  North 
Lincolnshire,  floods  their  fields ;  and  is  only  appeased  by  a  tribute 
of  their  fairest  virgin  to  be  exposed  to  the  sea-monster  Agar  every 
five  years.  Two  fathers,  Tyterus  and  Melebeus,  each  supposing  his 
daughter  (Gallathea  and  Phillida  respectively)  to  be  the  fairest, 
disguise  them  as  boys  in  order  to  evade  the  tribute,  So  disguised 
they  meet  in  the  woods,  and,  deceived  as  to  each  other's  sex,  fall  in 
love.  In  the  same  woods  Cupid  has  assumed  the  dress  of  a  girl, 
the  better  to  attack  Diana's  nymphs,  who  have  defied  him.  He 
inspires  Telusa  with  a  passion  for  the  disguised  Phillida,  and  Eurota 
and  Ramia  with  a  passion  for  the  disguised  Gallathea :  but  Diana, 
discovering  the  mischief,  institutes  a  search,  captures  the  intruder, 
and  sets  him  to  untie  love-knots  for  a  punishment.  In  the  end 
Venus,  who  has  claims  on  Neptune,  persuades  him  to  effect  Cupid's 
ransom  from  Diana  by  remitting  the  virgin-tribute.  The  natives, 
who  have  vainly  offered  Hsebe  as  a  substitute,  are  pardoned  by  the 
god  on  the  confession  of  Tyterus  and  Melebeus;  and  in  order  to 
gratify  the  mutual  passion  of  Gallathea  and  Phillida,  Venus  under 
takes  to  change  one  of  them  into  a  boy. 

Comic  matter,  entirely  unconnected  with  the  plot,  is  supplied  by 
three  shipwrecked  brothers,  of  whom  Raffe,  the  eldest,  is  induced  to 
enter  an  Alchemist's  service,  thereby  affording  Peter,  his  former 
assistant,  an  opportunity  of  escape.  Raffe  soon  exchanges  golden 
dreams  for  the  hardly  more  sustaining  pursuits  of  an  Astronomer ; 
but  in  the  end  the  three  brothers  are  reunited  and  join  the  wedding- 
festivities. 

Text  and  Bibliography.  —  The  text  here  followed  is  that  of  the 
only  known  quarto,  whose  date  is  1592.  The  entry  to  Gabriel 
Cawood,  the  publisher  of  both  Parts  of  Euphues,  of  *  A  Commoedie 
of  Titirus  and  Galathea'  in  the  Stationers'  Register,  Ap.  i,  1585,  can 
hardly  refer  to  any  but  Lyly's  work,  though  we  may  well  doubt 
whether  any  edition  was  actually  printed  then.  The  quarto  of  1592 

E  e  2 


420  GALLATHEA 

has  comparatively  few  errors.  It  omits  five  directions  for  entry  or 
exit,  and  two  words  ii.  4.  2,  v.  2.  59,  necessary  to  the  sense.  It  has, 
besides,  two  mistakes  in  prefixes — iii.  4.  58,  v.  3.  175 — and  seven 
other  misprints  easily  corrigible.  The  four  errors  here  specified,  and 
four  of  the  stage-directions  omitted,  remain  uncorrected  and  unin- 
serted  until  the  present  edition. 

Blount's  Sixe  Covrt  Comedies  inserts  one  Exit  and  the  two  songs 
(in  i.  4  and  iv.  2),  and  corrects  the  seven ,  misprints  of  the  quarto ; 
but  makes  nine  fresh  corruptions,  e.g.  i.  2.  8-9,  i.  4.  55,  ii.  3.  95, 
iv.  2.  5,  v.  3.  151,  the  first  and  last  being  of  punctuation  with  damage 
to  the  sense ;  and  omits  five  single  words,  noted  in  their  places. 

Fairholt,  following  Blount  as  usual  with  hardly  an  attempt  £t 
revision  except  in  the  pointing,  corrects  only  four  of  his  corruptions, 
reproduces  all  his  other  faults,  omits  four  more  single  words,  and 
corrupts  fourteen  others. 

Authorship.  —  Lyly's  authorship,  though  nowhere  definitely 
asserted  before  the  entry  to  Blount  in  the  Stationers'  Register  of 
*  Sixe  playes  of  Peter  [i.e.  John]  Lillyes  to  be  printed  in  one  volume ' 
under  date  January  9,  1627-8,  admits  of  no  dispute.  The  play 
contains  ,an  allusion  (v.  3,  p.  469)  to  Sapho  (a  comedy  identified  with 
Lyly  by  the  Sta.  Reg.  Ap.  6,  1584)  as  if  it  were  the  author's  work; 
it  is  played,  like  most  of  the  rest,  '  before  the  Queenes  Maiestie  .  . 
By  the  Chyldren  of  Paules ' ;  it  recalls  one  or  two  of  Lyly's  most 
frequent  puns  or  antitheses,  e.g.  iii.  4,  p.  454  'time  so  idle  .  .  . 
heads  so  addle,'  and  ib.  1.  48  '  vse  the  penne  for  Sonets,  not  the 
needle  for  Samplers,'  and  the  longer  speeches  are  markedly 
euphuistic,  e.g.  Prologue,  Tyterus'  speech,  pp.  432-3,  those  of  the 
Nymph  and  Melebeus,  pp.  435-6,  Telusa's,  pp.  446-7,  the  Augur's, 
p.  456,  Hsebe's  lament,  pp.  464-6,  and  the  speeches  of  Neptune, 
Venus  and  Diana,  on  pp.  467-8. 

Sources  \  —  The  story  of  a  virgin-tribute  paid  to  Neptune  has 
two  or  three  classical  representatives  :  there  is  the  sacrifice  of  his 
daughter  by  Erechtheus  to  secure  victory  for  Athens  over  the 
Eleusinians,  who  are  supported  by  Poseidon;  there  is  the  more 
famous  story  of  Andromeda,  daughter  of  King  Cepheus  of  Ethiopia 
(Ov.  Met.  iv.  670  sqq.) ;  and  there  is  that  of  Hesione,  daughter  of 
Laomedon  of  Troy.  In  both  these  latter  a  sea-monster  is  the 

1  See  Additional  Note  on  Italian  influence,  below,  pp.  473  sqq. 


INTRODUCTION  42I 

instrument  of  Poseidon's  wrath,  but  Tn  Hesione's  alone  is  there 
previous  sacrifice  of  other  virgins.  Apollodorus  and  Hyginus  are 
the  chief  authorities  for  all  three ;  and  I  have  been  fortunate  enough 
to  light  upon  an  edition  of  the  Fables  of  the  latter  (Paris,  1578,  8vo) 
bound  up  with  several  other  classical  writers  on  mythology,  and 
including  a  Latin  translation  of  the  Bibliotheca  of  Apollodorus. 
I  have  little  doubt  that  this  volume  formed  Lyly's  chief  mythological 
authority,  the  more  so  that  it  boasts  a  very  full  and  reliable  index. 
I  quote  the  story  of  Hesione  from  Hyginus,  Fab.  89. — 'Neptunus 
&  Apollo  dicuntur  Troiam  muro  cinxisse.  his  rex  Laomedon  vouit, 
quod  regno  suo  pecoris  eo  anno  natum  esset,  immolaturum.  Id 
votum  auaritia  fefellit.  Alij  dicunt,  parum  eum  promisisse :  ob  earn 
rem  Neptunus  cetum  misit,  qui  Troiam  vexaret.  Ob  quam  causam 
rex  ad  Apollinem  misit  consultum.  Apollo  iratus  ita  respondit :  si 
Troianorum  virgines  ceto  religatae  fuissent,  finem  pestilentiae  futuram. 
Cum  coplures  consumptae  essent,  &  Hesione  sors  exisset,  &  petris 
religata  esset,  Hercules  &  Telamon  cum  Colchos  Argonautae  irent, 
eodem  venerunt,  &  cetum  interfecerunt,'  &c. — Upon  this  ground 
work  Lyly  inwove  pretty  fancies  of  his  own  about  Cupid's  truancy, 
his  attack  on  Diana's  nymphs,  his  capture  and  punishment  by  Diana 
and  rescue  by  Venus,  which  forms  the  occasion  of  the  remission  of 
the  tribute.  The  change  of  sex  in  one  of  the  two  girls  is  confessedly 
(v.  3,  p.  470)  borrowed  from  the  tale  of  Iphis  being  transformed  into 
a  boy  by  Isis  to  gratify  his  love  of  lanthe,  in  Ovid's  Metamorphoses •, 
ix.  665-796.  The  name  'Telusa'  is  abbreviated  from  'Telethusa' 
in  that  passage ;  '  Clymene '  meets  the  eye  once  or  twice  in  turning 
over  the  pages  of  Hyginus ;  '  Eurota '  seems  borrowed,  somewhat 
oddly,  from  Virgil's  Aen,  i.  498  :  *  Qualis  in  Eurotae  ripis,  aut  per 
juga  Cynthi  |  Exercet  Diana  choros ' ;  and  a  parallel  for  this  pressing 
of  geography  into  the  service  of  mythology  is  found  in  the  name 
'Larissa,'  taken  perhaps  from  Pliny,  iv.  8.  15. 

The  comic  matter,  entrusted  as  usual  to  boys,  was  probably  suggested 
by  some  current  almanac,  whence  Lyly  might  borrow  the  points  of 
the  compass  and  the  idea  of  astrological  prediction.  As  to  the  latter, 
however,  I  believe  he  had  before  him  that  pamphlet  which  Richard 
Harvey  addressed  to  his  brother  Gabriel  at  Cambridge  'from  my 
Fathers  in  Walden  the  6  of  December,  1582  ' ;  of  which  I  give  a  few 
details,  as  it  has  an  important  bearing  on  the  date  of  the  play.  The 
title  runs — An  Astrological  Discourse  vpon  the  great  and  notable 
Coniunction  of  the  two  superiour  Planets,  Saturne  6°  Jupiter,  which 


422  GALL^rHEA 

shall  happen  the  28  day  of  April,  1583.  With  a  brief e  Declaration 
of  the  effectes,  which  the  late  Eclipse  of  the  Sunne  1582.  is  yet  heer- 

after  to  woorke.      Written  newly  by  Richard  Harvey 

At  London.  Imprinted  by  Henrie  Bynneman.  Anno  Domini.  1583. 
On  pp.  44—5  the  author  alludes  to  '  that  olde  and  common  prophecie, 
touching  the  year  1588  .  .  .  which  prophecie  .  .  .  I  wil  here  sette 
downe,  as  it  is  deliuered  by  Leouitius  in  Latine  verses,  made,  as 
most  suppose,  by  Regiomontanus^  but  translated  out  of  a  former  stile, 
farre  more  auncient  .  .  . 

Post  mille  expletos  a  partu  Virginis  annos, 

Et  post  quingentos  rursus  ab  orbe  datos : 
Octogesimus  octauus  mirabilis  Annus 
Ingruet,  is  secum  tristia  fata  feret. 
Si  non  hoc  anno  totus  malus  occidet  orbis, 
Si  non  in  nihilum  terra,  fretumque'  ruet : 
Cuncta  tamen  mundi  sursum  ibunt,  atq5  retrorsum 
Imperia,  £  luctus  vndique  grandis  erit.' 

And  on  p.  58  he  asserts  that  the  recent  eclipse  'betokeneth,  accord 
ing  to  the  ludicials  of  Astrologie  (cf.  "  our  ludicials  Astronomicall " 
"i-  3-  73)>  tnat  greate  aboundaunce  of  rayne  is  like  to  ensue, 
with  many  perilous  ouerflowinges  by  rage  of  waters  ....  it  will 
also  cause  much  rawe,  inconstant,  and  distemperate  weather,  euill 

for  all  kinde  of  cattle,  but  especially  for  sheepe tempestuous 

and  immoderate  weather,  wherewith  many  shippes  shalbe  ouerthrowne, 
many  mariners,  and  watermen  drowned,  many  townes  and  cities  deso 
late,  nigh  vnto  the  sea ' — a  passage  that  would  form  the  natural  sug 
gestion  of  Tyterus'  description  of  the  flood  in  the  opening  scene,  and 
of  the  introduction  of  the  shipwrecked  Mariner  and  boys  in  scene  4. 
But  Miss  Ingelow  has  revived  for  us  the  memory  of  an  actual 
bore  and  flood,  which  would  be  fresh  in  the  recollection  of  Lyly  and 
his  audience,  in  her  poem  *  The  High  Tide  :  on  the  coast  of  Lincoln 
shire,  1571-'  The  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  stanzas  run  as  follow : 

With  that  he  cried  and  beat  his  breast; 
For,  lo !   along  the  river's  bed 

A  mighty  eygre  reared  his  crest, 

And  uppe  the  Lindis  raging  sped. 

It  swept  with  thunderous  noises  loud ; 

Shaped  like  a  curling  snow-white  cloud, 

Or  like  a  demon  in  a  shroud. 

And  rearing  Lindis  backward  pressed 

Shook  all  her  trembling  bankes  amaine ; 


INTRODUCTION  423 

,  Then  madly  at  the  eygre's  breast 

Flung  uppe  her  weltering  walls  again. 
Then  bankes  came  downe  with  ruin  and  rout — 
Then  beaten  foam  flew  round  about — 
Then  all  the  mighty  floods  were  out. 

For  his  alchemical  terms  Lyly  was  indebted  to  Reginald  Scot's 
Discouerie  of  Witchcraft  (Bk.  xiv.  ch.  i),  published  1584.  It  is  true 
that  Scot  cites  Chaucer's  Canon's  Yeoman's  Tale  (11.  200-418), 
whence. indeed  he  derives  most  of  the  passage  quoted  below;  and 
a  close  comparison  shows  that  Lyly  had  Chaucer,  too,  before  him. 
But  the  nearness  of  the  date  and  the  interest  Scot's  work  excited 
make  it  most  probable  that  it  was  the  latter  which  sent  Lyly  to 
Chaucer :  and  if  there  are  points  in  which  he  obviously  follows  the 
old  poet,  e.g.  the  mention  of  'Egrimony  [agrimony],  Lumany 
[lunary],  Valerian'  (C.  Y.  T.  1.  247,  none  of  them  in  Scot),  the 
spelling  of '  vnsleked  lyme '  (Scot,  '  vnsliked '),  the  expression  '  Breeme- 
-worte'  (Chaucer's  'berrn  [barm],  wort'  1.  260,  Scot  has  'woort, 
yest'),  the  term  'circulation'  (a  mistake  for  Chaucer's  'citrinacioun' 
1.  263,  Scot  misprinting  'ritrination '),  and  lastly  the  order  of  the  four 
spirits — yet  there  are  at  least  two  points  which  show  his  indebted 
ness  to  Scot,  the  spelling,  namely,  '  Argoll,  Resagar '  (Scot,  '  argoll, 
resagor';  Chaucer,  'argoile  Resalgar'  1.  260),  and  Peter's  excuse  that 
beggarly  attire  is  necessary  '  such  cunning  men  must  disguise  them- 
selues  .....  for  otherwise  they  shall  be  compelled  to  worke  for 
Princes,'  p.  444,  which  is  taken  from  Scot's  fifth  chapter,  p.  305, 
where  the  Alcumyster  fears  that,  if  discovered,  '  I  shall  be  shut  up 
in  some  castell  or  towre,  and  there  shall  be  forced  to  tug  about  this 
worke  and  broile  in  this  businesse  all  the  daies  of  my  life,'  whereas 
Chaucer  merely  says  they  are  'clothed  so  unthriftily'  because  'if 
that  they  espyed  were,  |  Men  wolde  hem  slee,  by-cause  of  hir 
science.'  I  quote,  therefore,  the  passage  from  the  Discouerie  where 
these  terms  occur,  leaving  the  reader  to  collate  the  Chaucer  passage 
for  himself :—' For  what  plaine  man  would  not  beleeve,  that  they  are 
learned  and  jollie  fellowes,  that  have  in  such  readinesse  so  many 
mysticall  termes  of  art :  as  (for  a  tast)  their  subliming,  amalgaming, 
engluting,  imbibing,  incorporating,  cementing,  ritrination,  termina 
tions,  mollifications,  and  indurations  of  bodies,  matters  combust  and 
coagulat,  ingots,  tests,  &c.  Or  who  is  able  to  conceive  (by  reason 
of  the  abrupt  confusion,  contrarietie,  and  multitude  of  drugs,  simples, 
and  confections)  the  operation  and  mysterie  of  their  stuffe  and 


424  GALLATHEA 

workemanship.  For  these  things  and  many  more,  are  of  necessitie 
to  be  prepared  and  used  in  the  execution  of  this  indevor ;  namelie 
orpiment,  sublimed  Mercuric,  iron  squames,  Mercuric  crude,  groundlie 
large,  bole  armoniake,  verdegrece,  borace,  boles,  gall,  arsenicke,  sal 
armoniake,  brimstone,  salt,  paper,  burnt  bones,  unsliked  lime,  claie, 
saltpeter,  vitriall,  saltartre,  allum,  glasse,  woort,  yest,  argoll,  resagor, 
gleir  of  an  eye,  powders,  ashes,  doong,  pisse,  &c.  Then  have  they 
waters  corosive  and  lincall,  waters  of  albification,  and  waters  rubi- 
fieng,  &c.  Also  oiles,  ablutions,  and  metals  fusible.  Also  their 
lamps,  their  urinalles,  discensories,  sublimatories,  alembecks,  viols, 
croslets,  cucurbits,  stillatories,  and  their  fornace  of  calcination :  also 
their  soft  and  subtill  fiers,  some  of  wood,  some  of  cole,  composed 
speciallie  of  beech,  &c.  And  because  they  will  not  seeme  to  want 
anie  point  of  cousenage  to  astonish  the  simple,  or  to  moove  admira 
tion  to  their  enterprises,  they  have  (as  they  affirme)  foure  spirits  to 
worke  withall,  whereof  the  first  is,  orpiment;  the  second,  quicksilver; 
the  third,  sal  armoniake;  the  fourth,  brimstone.  Then  have  they 
seven  celestiall  bodies ;  namelie,  Sol,  Luna,  Mars,  Mercurie,  Saturne, 
Jupiter,  and  Venus ;  to  whome  they  applie  seven  terrestriall  bodies ;  to 
wit,  gold,  silver,  iron,  quicksilver,  lead,  tinne,  and  copper,  attributing 
unto  these  the  operation  of  the  other;  speciallie  if  the  terrestriall  bodies 
be  qualified,  tempered,  and  wrought  in  the  house  and  daie  according 
to  the  feats  [seats  ?]  of  the  celestiall  bodies  :  with  more  like  vanitie.' 
Bk.  xiv.  chap,  i,  pp.  353-4  (p.  249  of  Brinsley  Nicholson's  reprint). 

Of  Allegory  in  the  play  there  is  very  little.  In  Sapho  and  Phao 
there  had  been  perhaps  too  much,  or  too  thinly  veiled :  here  we 
have  only  in  Diana's  exhortation  of  her  nymphs  (iii.  4,  p.  454)  the 
representation  of  Elizabeth's  dislike  of  marriages  among  her  courtiers  ; 
and  perhaps  some  slight  allusion,  in  Cupid's  captivity,  to  Leicester's 
confinement  at  Greenwich  in  1579;  another  faint  anticipation  of 
Endimion  possibly  occurring  iv.  2,  p.  459,  where  Cupid,  left  alone 
with  Larissa,  attempts  to  soften  her  heart  (cf.  Bagoa  and  the  sleeping 
Endimion,  ii.  3.  45-52). 

Date.  —  The  question  of  date,  whether  of  composition  or  perform 
ance,  is  one  of  some  difficulty.  Mr.  Fleay  (Biog.  Chron.  ii.  41) 
rightly  notes  the  allusion  v.  3,  p.  271,  to  Cupid  as  'alwaies  taken, 
first  by  Sapho,  nowe  by  Diana,'  as  proof  that  it  was  composed  after 
Sapho  and  Phao,  not  earlier,  therefore,  than  1582.  I  have  further 
shown  that  Lyly  makes  use  both  of  Richard  Harvey's  astrological 


INTRODUCTION  425 

tract  published  in  '1583'  before  'April  28,'  and  of  Reginald  Scot's 
Discouerie  of  Witchcraft  published  1584.  On  the  other  hand  we 
need  not  doubt  that '  A  Commoedie  of  Titirus  and  Galathea,'  entered 
to  Cawood  on  April  i,  1585,  refers  to  our  play.  Cawood  is  the 
publisher  of  Euphues  until  1597;  and  the  Register  is  markedly 
careless  about  titles,  so  that '  Titirus  and  Galathea '  is  in  all  likelihood 
merely  copied  from  the  names  of  those  two  characters  written  in  the 
MS.  (as  printed  in  the  quarto)  at  the  head  of  the  first  scene  as  meant 
to  take  part  in  it.  A  remark  of  Raffe's,  i.  4.  70-1,  'let  vs  to  the 
woods  .  .  .  before  they  be  made  shippes '  may  with  probability  be 
referred  to  that  considerable  ship-building  programme  carried  out  in 
1584  as  a  result  of  the  commission  appointed  to  overhaul  the  navy  in 
the  previous  autumn  (Froude's  History »,  xii.  428  sqq.  and  Calendar  of 
State  Papers ;  Domestic,  1581—1590,  under  dates  October  6,  Decem 
ber  29,  1583,  January  30,  February  3,  June  28,  1584).  This  would 
naturally  point  us  to  the  latter  part  of  1584  for  the  composition,  and 
to  January  i,  1585,  '  Newyeeres  day  at  Night'  of  the  title-page,  for 
the  Court-performance.  Unfortunately,  however,  the  Revels  Accounts, 
p.  1 88,  show  that  particular  evening  as  already  occupied  by  'Dyvers 
feates  of  Actyvytie  ....  by  Symons  and  his  fellowes ' ;  so  that  the 
Court-performance  of  Gallathea  must  be  deferred  to  some  later  year. 
Mr.  Fleay,  believing  in  a  continuous  inhibition  of  the  Paul's  boys 
from  1583  to  1587  (History  of  the  Stage,  p.  40)  and  misled  by  the 
allusions  to  ' octogesimus  octauus"1  (iii.  3,  p.  452  ;  v.  i,  p.  462),  places 
the  performance  January  i,  1588.  'I  think  the  play,'  he  adds,  'was 
originally  written  1582;  then  thrown  aside  when  the  children  were 
inhibited ;  taken  up  again  and  recomposed  1587.'  But  Raffe  tells  us, 
p.  462,  that  the  Astronomer  talked  of  'the  meeting  of  the  Coniunc- 
tions  &  Planets,'  clearly  alluding  to  the  title  of  Harvey's  tract  of 
T583  (quoted  above);  while  on  p.  452  the  Astronomer  undertakes 
to  foretell  the  weather  'betweene  this  and  Octogessimus  octauus,' 
which  almost  forbids  us  to  defer  the  production  till  the  very  threshold 
of  that  year,  which  began  March  25.  I  know  of  no  reason  for 
Mr.  Fleay's  asserted  continuous  inhibition  save  the  absence  of  a 
record  of  Paul's  boys'  performances  at  Court,  which  may  be  fairly 
explained  by  the  gap  in  the  payment-lists  extracted  by  Chalmers 
( Malone's  Shakespeare,  iii.  423-5)  from  June  26,  1582,  to  February  19, 

1586,  and  by  the  similar  gap  in  the  Revels  Accounts  recovered  by 
Cunningham,  pp.  196,  198,  from  November  i,  1585,  to  November  i, 

1587.  This  gap  allows  us  to  place  the  performance  of  Gallathea 


426  GALLATHEA 

on  New  Year's  Day  of  1586  or  of  1587.  In  favour  of  Mr.  Fleay's 
date,  however,  is  the  fact  that  the  Queen  did  spend  the  Christmas 
1587—8  at  Greenwich  (as  required  by  our  title-page),  and  that  the 
Paul's  boys  played  before  her  on  some  date  '  betwixte  Christmas  't 
Shrovetid'  (Cunningham,  Revels  Accounts,  p.  198). 

But  whether  the  '  Newyeeres  day '  of  the  Court-performance  was 
January  i  of  1586,  1587,  or  1588,  it  is  vastly  improbable  that  it 
would  be  entered  in  the  Stationers'  Register  on  April  i,  1585,  without 
having  been  previously  performed,  at  least  at  St.  Paul's.  If  we  are 
to  allow,  as  I  think  we  must,  that  Lyly  makes  use  of  Reginald  Scot's 
work,  such  public  performance  cannot  be  placed  earlier  than  the 
autumn  of  1584,  and  must  have  been  in  violation  or  evasion  of 
the  inhibition  which  we  should  infer  from  the  publication  of 
Campaspe  and  Sapho  to  have  existed  at  least  in  that  year.  True  the 
two  plays  may  have  been  published  merely  because  the  public  had 
had  enough  of  them  on  the  stage;  but  the  idea  of  an  inhibition, 
extending  from  pretty  early  in  1584  to  April,  1585,  is  confirmed  by 
the  appearance  of  Gallathea  in  the  Register  so  soon  as  April  i  of 
the  latter  year.  The  non-procedure  with  publication  is  attributed 
with  probability  by  Mr.  Baker  in  his  introduction  to  Endymion, 
pp.  cxxiii  sqq.,  to  the  issue  on  April  26  of  a  writ  authorizing 
Thomas  Giles,  the  master  of  the  Paul's  boys,  to  'take  up'  fresh 
boys  for  the  choir,  a  writ  which  may  be  taken  as  implying  renewal 
of  the  permission  to  act  *.  On  the  other  hand  the  stay  of  publication 
may  have  been  due,  not  to  renewed  opportunity  of  performance,  but 
to  the  presence  in  the  piece  of  matter  in  some  way  objectionable, 
which  was  removed  by  Lyly  or  'reformed  and  altered'  by  the 
Master  of  the  Revels  before  the  subsequent  Court-performance, 
the  Prologue  professing  express  care  that  the  play  '  shoulde  neyther 
offend  in  Scasne  nor  sillable.'  A  trace  of  the  change  may  possibly 
be  seen  in  the  unsatisfactory  part  of  Neptune,  as  it  stands  at  present. 
In  ii.  2.  20  he  announces  an  intention  of  *  vsing  the  shape  of 

1  In  confirmation  of  Mr.  Baker's  supposition  see  a  most  interesting  petition  of 
Henry  Clifton  in  1601  against  Nathaniel  Gyles,  Master  of  the  Chapel  Children, 
for  kidnapping  on  similar  authority  boys  who  could  not  sing  in  order  to  use  them 
for  theatrical  purposes.  The  petition  asserts  that  Gyles  and  his  '  confederates ' 
had  met  remonstrances  by  saying  '  that  yf  the  Queene  would  not  bcare  them  furth 
in  that  accion  she  .  .  .  should  gett  another  to  execute  her  comission  for  them,' 
and  again  'that  were  yt  not  for  the  benefitt  they  made  by  the  sayd  play  howse, 
whoso  would  should  serve  the  Chapell  wth  childeren  for  them/  The  petition  is 
given  at  length  in  Fleay's  Hist,  of  the  Stage,  1890,  pp.  126  sqq. ;  see  especially 
pp.  130-1.  From  the  language  1  have  quoted  it  seems  clear  that  the  permission 
to  employ  the  boys  as  actors,  though  nowhere  stated  in  the  writs,  was  understood. 


INTRODUCTION  427 

a  Sheepehearde ' ;  a  promise  unkept,  for  the  'strange  boy  in  the 
woods'  of  iii.  i.  87  is  afterwards  identified  with  Melebeus  (Phillida), 
and  Venus'  reference,  v.  3.  61-2,  to  some  amorous  escapade  of 
Neptune  'when  thou  wast  a  Sheepe-hearde '  has  nothing  to  corre 
spond  to  it  in  the  play,  nor  any  precise  original  in  classical  mythology1. 
The  anger  he  expresses  at  the  evasion  of  the  tribute  on  his  first 
appearance  (ii.  2),  is  merely  repeated  on  his  second,  iv.  3,  with 
a  promise  to  attend  *  at  the  houre '  of  the  offering,  on  which  occasion 
v.  3,  p.  466,  his  tone  is  once  more  that  of  the  indignant  surprise 
appropriate  to  one  who  has  not  touched  on  the  subject  before. 
These  repetitions,  and  his  verbal  relegation  to  the  part  of  deus  ex 
machina^  ii.  2,  p.  441 — '  I  will  into  these  woodes  and  marke  all,  and 
in  the  end  will  marre  all,'  look  like  lame  substitutes  for  previous 
matter  in  which  he  took  perhaps  a  more  conspicuous  part  in  the 
action,  but  in  which  his  speech  or  conduct  as  a  '  Sheepe-hearde '  may 
have  been  a  trifle  too  '  liberal.' 

On  this  supposition  of  revision  and  excision,  other  things  may 
have  been  inserted  which  were  not  in  the  original  draft.  If  the 
Alchemist  were  such  a  later  addition,  we  should  be  relieved  from 
the  necessity  of  dating  the  original  draft  subsequent  to  the  appear 
ance  of  Scot's  work,  and  should  be  able  to  push  back  our  upward 
limit  to  the  issue  of  Harvey's  tract  in  April,  1583  :  if  the  Astronomer, 
too,  be  an  addition  (and  he  hangs  with  the  other)  we  might  even 
accept  Mr.  Fleay's  1582  as  a  possible  date  for  the  original  draft.  But 
I  incline  to  think  both  characters  were  there  from  the  first. 

To  sum  up,  the  play,  if  the  present  is  the  original  form,  cannot 
have  been  composed  before  the  latter  half  of  1584,  and  may  have 
been  produced  at  St.  Paul's  before  April  i,  1585,  while  the  Court- 
performance  may  date  on  January  i  of  either  1586,  1587,  or  1588, 
probably  in  the  first  of  those  years.  If  there  was  once  an  earlier 
form  of  the  play,  we  may  fix  April,  1583,  or  spring,  1582,  as  the 
upward  limit  for  composition  of  that  earlier  form,  and  autumn,  1584, 
as  its  probable  date,  and  suppose  the  revision  made  after  April,  1585, 
including  the  cutting  and  altering  of  Neptune's  part,  and,  perhaps, 
the  introduction  of  Alchemist  and  Astronomer.  Probably  no  earlier 
form  was  ever  given  at  Court. 

Imitations.  —  An  obvious  imitation  is  noticeable  in  that  most 
distinctly  Lylian  of  all  Shakespeare's  plays,  Lovds  Labour's  Lost, 
1  Cf.  however  Ov.  Met.  viii.  849-51,  another  link  with  Loves  Metamorphosis. 


428  GALLATHEA 

iv.  3,  where  the  successive  entry  of  Biron  and  the  three  partners  of 
his  vow  of  celibacy,  confessing  their  passion  while  they  imagine 
themselves  alone,  is  borrowed  from  that  of  Telusa  and  her  fellow 
nymphs  in  iii.  i  of  our  play. 

In  The  Maydes  Metamorphosis  which  I  print  as  '  doubtful,'  the  sex 
of  the  heroine  Eurymine  is  changed,  and  rechanged. 

'  Iphis  and  lanthe  or  A  marriage  without  a  man  [is  entered  Sta. 
Reg.]  29  June  1660,  and  absurdly  ascribed  to  W.  Shakespeare.' 
(Fleay's  Biog.  Chron.  ii.  335,  Anon.  Plays,  temp.  Charles  I.) 

Place  and  Time.  —  The  Manner,  i.  4,  p.  226,  informs  us  that  we 
are  in  Lincolnshire,  and  from  the  opening  scene  we  gather  that  we 
are  near  the  sea  and  the  Humber,  the  bore  or  eagre  on  that  estuary 
being  symbolized  by  the  monster  Agar.  The  'faire  Oake'  of  the 
opening  speech,  to  which  the  victim  is  bound,  is  mentioned  as 
present  in  three  other  scenes,  iv.  i,  3,  and  v.  2,  while  the  words 
1  seeing  we  are  to  be  absent,  let  vs  wander  into  these  Groues,'  in  iv.  4, 
are  evidence  that  that  scene  too  is  held  on  the  same  spot.  The 
same  woods  are  expressly  mentioned  in  every  other  scene  of  the  play 
except  iii.  3  and  iv.  2,  which  there  is  no  reason  to  regard  as  laid  else 
where  ;  while  in  the  majority  of  cases  they  are  indicated  as  lying  near 
at  hand,  as  a  place  to  which  a  retirement  may  be  made,  not  as  actually 
occupying  the  stage.  Clearly  the  locality  is  regarded  as  identical 
throughout,  the  scene  imagined  being  the  outskirts  of  a  forest  not  far 
from  the  estuary  of  the  Humber,  with  a  large  oak  in  the  foreground. 

In  the  matter  of  Time  Lyly  has  not  merely  disregarded  the  rule  of 
one  day  prescribed  by  the  Unity,  but  has  been  at  no  pains  to  reconcile 
the  indications  he  gives.  Thus  while  the  disguise  of  the  two  girls 
would  naturally  take  place  a  few  months  only  before  the  time  of  the 
offering,  and  in  iv.  i,  p.  457,  Tyterus  has  seen  Melebeus  kissing  his 
daughter  'very  lately';  yet  the  three  brothers  part  at  the  end  of 
Act  i  for  a  'twelue-month,'  and  at  the  end  of  the  play  can  tell  what 
fortunes  they  have  had  '  these  twelue  monthes  in  the  woods.'  Within 
its  own  limits,  however,  each  of  the  first  three  Acts  may  be  regarded 
as  continuous  in  scene,  though  the  scenes  are  never  verbally  linked ; 
while  the  last  two  Acts  occupy  but  one  day,  that  of  the  offering, 
announced  as  such  by  the  opening  words  of  the  Augur  in  iv.  i, 
and  also  by  the  opening  words  of  Phillida  in  v.  3,  the  closing  scene. 
The  same  attempt  at  a  close  continuity  of  scenes,  irreconcileable 
with  the  lapse  of  time  required  by  the  plot,  is  visible  in  other  plays, 
e.  g.  Sapho  and  Phao,  Midas,  and  Loves  Metamorphosis. 


As  it  was  playde  before 

the  Queenes  Maicftie  at 

Greene- wichc,  onNewyccres 

day  at  Night. 


B)  the  Children  of 


IT 


AT    LONDON. 

Printed  by  lohn  Charl- 
woodeforthe  VVid- 
dow  Brooine. 
/ 


(DRAMATIS   PERSON  AE 


NEPTUNE. 

CUPID. 

Fairies. 


ERICTHINIS,  another  native. 

Augur. 

Alchemist. 

Astronomer.  I0 

Mariner. 

RAFFE.  \ 

ROBIN.  Y  three  brothers,  sons  of  a  Miller. 

DICKE.  ) 

PETER,  the  Alchemist's  Boy.  I5 

VENUS. 

DIANA. 

TELUSA. 

EUROTA. 

RAMIA. 

LARISSA. 

And  another  (i.  2.) 

GALLATHEA,  daughter  to  Tyterus. 

PHILLIDA,  daughter  to  Melebeus. 

H^BE,  a  young  woman.  25 

SCENE  —  The  outskirts  of  a  forest  on  the  Lincolnshire  shore  of  the 
Humber  estuary  :  a  large  tree  in  the  foreground.) 

Dramatis  Personae]  No  list  in  Q,  BL  26  No  statement  of  Scene  in  Q.  Z?/.  : 

'  Lincolnshire  '  F. 


-Diana's  Nymphs.  20 


THE   PROLOGUE 

/JS  and  Smyrna  were  two  sweete  Cytties,  the  first  named  of  the 
Violet,  the  latter  of  the  Myrrh :  Homer  was  borne  in  the  one, 
and  buried  in  the  other.      Your  Modesties  iudgement  and  fauour,  are 
our  Sunne  and  shadowe,  the  one  comming  of  your  deepe  wisdome, 
5  the  other  of  your  wonted  grace.      Wee  in  all  humilitie  desire,  that  by 
the  former,  receiuing  our  first  breath,  we  may  in  the  latter,  take  our 
last  rest. 

Augustus  Caesar  had  such  pearcing  eyes,  that  who  so  looked  on  him, 

was  constrained  to  wincke.    .  Your  highnesse  hath  so  perfit  a  iudgement, 

10  that  what  soeuerwe  offer,  we  are  enforced  to  blush  ;  yet  as  the  Athenians 

were  most  curious,  that  the  Lawne,  wherewith  Minerua  was  couered, 

should  be  without  spotte  or  wrinkle,  so  haue  we  endeuoured  with  all 

care,  that  what  wee  present  your  Highnesse,  shoulde  neyther  offend  in 

Sccene  nor  tillable,  knowing  that  as  in  the  ground  where  Gold  groweth, 

15  nothing  will  prosper  but  Golde,  so  in  your  Maiestes  minde,  where 

nothing  doth  harbor  but  vertue,  nothing  can  enter  but  vertue. 


GALLATHEA 


ACTUS  PRIMUS 


PRIMA. 
(Enter)  TYTERUS.     GALLATHEA  {disguised  as  a  boy). 


Tyte.  'nn'HE  Sunne  dooth  beate  vppon  the  playne  fieldes,  where- 
JL  fore  let  vs  sit  downe  Gallathea,  vnder  this  faire  Oake, 
by  whose  broade  leaues  beeing  defended  from  the  warme  beames, 
we  may  enioy  the  fresh  ayre,  which  softly  breathes  from  Humber 
floodes.  5 

Galla.  Father,  you  have  deuised  well  :  and  whilst  our  flocke  doth 
roame  vp  and  downe  this  pleasant  greene,  you  shall  recount  to  mee, 
if  it  please  you,  for  what  cause  thys  Tree  was  dedicated  vnto  Neptune^ 
and  why  you  haue  thus  disguised  me. 

Tyte.    I  doe  agree  thereto,  and  when  thy  state  and  my  care  be  10 
considered,  thou  shalt  knowe  thys  question  was  not  asked  in  vaine. 

Galla.    I  willingly  attend. 

(They  recline.) 

Tyte.  In  tymes  past,  where  thou  seest  a  heape  of  small  pyble, 
stoode  a  stately  Temple  of  white  Marble,  which  was  dedicated  to 
the  God  of  the  Sea,  (and  in  right  beeing  so  neere  the  Sea)  :  hether  15 
came  all  such  as  eyther  ventured  by  long  trauell  to  see  Countries, 
or  by  great  traffique  to  vse  merchandise,  offering  Sacrifice  by  fire, 
to  gette  safety  by  water  ;  yeelding  thanks  for  perrils  past,  &  making 
prayers  for  good  successe  to  come  :  but  Fortune,  constant  in  nothing 
but  inconstancie,  did  change  her  copie,  as  the  people  their  custome  ;  20 
for  the  Land  being  oppressed  by  Danes,  who  in  steed  of  sacrifice, 
committed  sacrilidge,  in  steede  of  religion,  rebellion,  and  made  a  pray 
of  that  in  which  they  should  haue  made  theyr  prayers,  tearing  downe 
the  Temple  euen  with  the  earth,  being  almost  equall  with  the  skyes, 

ACTUS  PRIMUS.    SC/ENA  PRIMA]  the  division  into  Acts  and  Scenes  is  that  of 
Q.  Bl.  F.     No  localities  are  marked 


sc.  i]  GALLATHEA  433 

25  enraged  so  the  God  who  bindes  the  windes  in  the  hollowes  of  the 
earth,  that  he  caused  the  Seas  to  breake  their  bounds,  sith  men  had 
broke  their  vowes,  and  to  swell  as  farre  aboue  theyr  reach,  as  men 
had  swarued  beyond  theyr  reason  :  then  might  you  see  shippes  sayle 
where  sheepe  fedde,  ankers  cast  where  ploughes  goe,  fishermen  throw 
30  theyr  nets,  where  husbandmen  sowe  theyr  Corne,  and  fishes  throw 
their  scales  where  fowles  doe  breede  theyr  quils :  then  might  you 
gather  froth  where  nowe  is  dewe,  rotten  weedes  for  sweete  roses, 
&  take  viewe  of  monstrous  Maremaides,  in  steed  of  passing  faire 
Maydes. 

35      Galla.   To  heare  these  sweete  maruailes,  I  would  mine  eyes  were 
turned  also,  into  eares. 

Tyte.   But  at  the  last,  our  Country-men  repenting,  and  not  too 
late,  because  at  last,  Neptune  either  wearie  of  his  wroth,  or  warie 
to    doe    them  wrong,   vpon    condition    consented    to   ease   theyr 
40  miseries. 

Galla.    What  condition  will  not  miserable  men  accept  ? 
Tyte.   The  condition  was  this,  that  at  euery  flue  yeeres  day,  the 
fairest  and  chastest  virgine  in  all  the  Countrey,  should  be  brought 
vnto  this  Tree,  &  heere  beeing  bound,  (whom  neither  parentage  shall 
45  excuse  for  honour,  nor  vertue  for  entegrity)  is  left  for  a  peace  offering 
vnto  Neptune. 

Galla.    Deere  is  the  peace  that  is  bought  with  guiltlesse  blood. 
Tyte.    I  am  not  able  to  say  that;   but  hee  sendeth  a  Monster 
called  the  Agar^  against  whose  comming  the  waters  rore,  the  fowles 
50  flie  away,  and  the  Cattell  in  the  field  for  terror  shunne  the  bankes. 
Galla.   And  she  bound  to  endure  that  horror  ? 
Tyte.   And  she  bound  to  endure  that  horror. 
Galla.    Doth  thys  Monster  deuoure  her  ? 

Tyte.   Whether  she  be  deuoured  of  him,  or  conueied  to  Neptune 
55  or  drowned  between  both,  it  is  not  permitted  to  knowe,  and  encur- 
reth  danger  to  coniecture.     Now  Gallathea  heere  endeth  my  tale,  & 
beginneth  thy  tragedie. 

Galla.  Alas  father,  and  why  so? 

Tyte.  I  would  thou  hadst  beene  lesse  faire,  or  more  fortunate, 
60  then  shouldest  thou  not  repine  that  I  haue  disguised  thee  in  this 
attyre,  for  thy  beautie  will  make  thee  to  be  thought  worthy  of  this 
God ;  to  auoide  therfore  desteny  (for  wisedome  ruleth  the  stars) 
I  thinke  it  better  to  vse  an  vnlawfull  meanes  (your  honour  preserued) 
then  intollerable  greefe  (both  life  and  honor  hazarded),  and  to  pre- 


434  GALLATHEA  [ACT  I 

uent  (if  it  be  possible)  thy  constellation  by  my  craft.     Now  hast  thou  65 
heard  the  custome  of  this  Countrey,  the  cause  why  thys  Tree  was 
dedicated  vnto  Neptune,  and  the  vexing  care  of  thy  fearefull  Father. 

Galla.    Father,   I   haue  beene  attentiue  to  heare,  and  by  your 
patience  am  ready  to  aunswer.     Destenie  may  be  deferred,  not  pre- 
uented :  and  therefore  it  were  better  to  offer  my  selfe  in  tryumph,  70 
then  to  be  drawne  to  it  with  dishonour.     Hath  nature  (as  you  say) 
made  mee  so  faire  aboue  all,  and  shall  not  vertue  make  mee  as 
famous  as  others?     Doe  you  not  knowe,  (or  dooth  ouercarefulnes 
make  you  forget)  that  an  honorable  death  is  to  be  preferred  before 
an  infamous  life?     I  am  but  a  child,  and  haue  not  liued  long,  and  75 
yet  not  so  childish,  as  I  desire  to  Hue  euer :   vertues  I  meane  to 
carry  to  my  graue,  not  gray  haires.     I  woulde  I  were  as  sure  that 
destiny  would  light  on  me,  as  I  am  resolued  it  could  not  feare  me. 
Nature  hath  giue"  me  beauty,  Vertue  courage;   Nature  must  yeeld 
mee  death,  Vertue  honor.     Suffer  mee  therefore  to  die,  for  which  80 
I  was  borne,  or  let  me  curse  that  I  was  borne,  sith  I  may  not  die 
for  it. 

Tyte.  Alas  Gallathea,  to  consider  the  causes  of  change,  thou 
art  too  young;  and  that  I  should  find  them  out  for  thee,  too  too 
fortunate.  85 

Galla.  The  destenie  to  me  cannot  be  so  hard  as  the  disguising 
hatefull. 

Tyte.  To  gaine  loue,  the  Gods  haue  taken  shapes  of  beastes,  and 
to  saue  life  art  thou  coy  to  take  the  attire  of  men  ? 

Galla.   They  were  beastly  gods,  that  lust  could  make  them  seeme  90 
as  beastes. 

Tyte.  In  health  it  is  easie  to  counsell  the  sicke,  but  it's  hard  for 
the  sicke  to  followe  wholesome  counsaile.  Well  let  vs  depart,  the 
day  is  farre  spent.  •  Exeunt. 

SC^ENA  SECUNDA. 

{Enter}  CUPID,  {and)  NIMPH  OF  DIANA. 

Cupid.  Faire  Nimphe,  are  you  strayed  from  your  companie  by 
chaunce,  or  loue  you  to  wander  solitarily  on  purpose  ? 

Nymph.  Faire  boy,  or  god,  or  what  euer  you  bee,  I  would  you 
knew  these  woods  are  to  me  so  wel  known,  that  I  cannot  stray 
though  I  would,  and  my  minde  so  free,  that  to  be  melancholy  I  haue  5 

83  change  so  all :  qy  ?  this  change.     See  note  84-5  too  too  fortunate  so  all 


sc.  11]  GALLATHEA  435 

no  cause.     There  is  none  of  Dianaes  trayne  that  any  can  traine, 
either  out  of  their  waie,  or  out  of  their  wits. 

Cupid.   What  is  that  Diana  1  a  goddesse?   what  her  Nimphes? 
virgins  ?  what  her  pastimes  ?  hunting  ? 

10  Nymph.  A  goddesse  ?  who  knowes  it  not  ?  Virgins  ?  who  thinkes 
it  not  ?  Hunting  ?  who  loues  it  not  ? 

Cupid.    I  pray  thee  sweete  wench,  amongst  all  your  sweete  troope, 
is  there  not  one  that  followeth  the  sweetest  thing,  sweete  loue  ? 

Nymph.   Loue  good  sir,  what  meane  you  by  it  ?  or  what  doe  you 
1 5  call  it? 

Cupid.   A  heate   full  of  coldnesse,  a  sweet  full  of  bitternesse, 

a  paine  ful  of  pleasantnesse ;  which  maketh  thoughts  haue  eyes,  and 

harts  eares ;  bred  by  desire,  nursed  by  delight,  weaned  by  ielousie, 

kild  by  dissembling,  buried  by  ingratitude  j  and  this  is  loue !  fayre 

20  Lady,  wil  you  any  ? 

Nymph.    If  it  be  nothing  els,  it  is  but  a  foolish  thing. 

Cupid.    Try,  and  you  shall  find  it  a  prettie  thing. 

Nymph.  I  haue  neither  will  nor  leysure,  but  I  will  followe  Diana 
in  the  Chace,  whose  virgins  are  all  chast,  delighting  in  the  bowe  that 
25  wounds  the  swift  Hart  in  the  Forrest,  not  fearing  the  bowe  that 
strikes  the  softe  hart  in  the  Chamber.  This  difference  is  betweene 
my  Mistris  Diana,  and  your  Mother  (as  I  gesse)  Venus,  that  all  her 
Nimphes  are  amiable  and  wise  in  theyr  kinde,  the  other  amorous 
and  too  kinde  for  their  sexe ;  and  so  farewell  little  god. 

Exit. 

30  Cupid.  Diana,  and  thou,  and  all  thine,  shall  knowe  that  Cupid  is 
a  great  god :  I  will  practise  a  while  in  these  woodes,  and  play  such 
pranckes  with  these  Nimphes,  that  while  they  ayme  to  hit  others 
with  their  Arrowes,  they  shall  be  wounded  themselues  with  their 
owne  eyes.  Exit 

SCVENA  TERTIA. 

{Enter)  MELEBEUS,  PHILLIDA. 

Meleb.    Come  Phillida,  faire  Phillida,  and  I  feare  me  too  faire 

being   my  Phillida,  thou  knowest  the  custome  of  this  Countrey, 

&  I  the  greatnes  of  thy  beautie,  we  both  the  fiercenesse  of  the 

monster  Agar.      Euerie   one  thinketh  his  owne  childe  faire,  but 

5  I  know  that  which  I  most  desire,  and  would  least  haue,  that  thou 

8-9  what  .  .  .  hunting?]  What,  her    Nymphs  Virgins?    What,  her  pastimes 
hunting?  Bl. 

Ff  2 


436  GALLATHEA  [ACT  i 

art  fairest.  Thou  shalt  therefore  disguise  thy  selfe  in  attire,  least 
I  should  disguise  my  selfe  in  affection,  in  suffering  thee  to  perrish 
by  a  fond  desire,  whom  I  may  preserue  by  a  sure  deceipt. 

Phil.    Deere  father,  Nature  could  not  make  mee  so  faire  as  she 
hath  made  you  kinde,  nor  you  more  kinde  then  me  dutifull.     What  10 
soeuer  you  commaunde  I  will  not  refuse,  because  you  commaund 
nothing  but  my  safetie,  and  your  happinesse.     But  howe  shall  I  be 
disguised  ? 

Meleb.    In  mans  apparell. 

Phil.    It  wil  neither  become  my  bodie,  nor  my  minde.  15 

Meleb.    TN\xy  Phttlida? 

Phil.    For  then  I  must  keepe  companie  with  boyes,  and  commit 
follies  vnseemelie  for  my  sexe  ;  or  keepe  company  with  girles,  and 
be  thought  more  wanton  then  becommeth  me.     Besides,  I  shall  be 
ashamed  of  my  long  hose  and  short  coate,  and  so  vnwarelie  blabbe  20 
out  something  by  blushing  at  euery  thing. 

Meleb.    Feare  not  Phillida,  vse  will  make  it  easie,  feare  must  make 
it  necessarie. 

Phil.    I  agree,  since  rny  father  will  haue  it  so,  and  fortune  must. 

Meleb.    Come  let  vs  in  ;    and  when   thou   art   disguised,   roame  25 
about  these  woods  till  the  time  be  past,  and  Neptune  pleased. 

Exeunt. 


QUARTA, 

{Enter)  Mariner,  RAFFE,  ROBIN,  and  DICKE. 

Robin.    Now  Mariner,  what  callest  thou  this  sport  on  the  Sea  ? 

Mar.    It  is  called  a  wracke. 

Raffe.  I  take  no  pleasure  in  it.  Of  all  deathes  I  wold  not  be 
drownd  ;  ones  clothes  will  be  so  wet  when  hee  is  taken  vp. 

Dicke.    What  calst  thou  the  thing  wee  were  bounde  to  ?  5 

Mar.    A  raughter. 

Raffe.  I  wyll  rather  hang  my  selfe  on  a  raughter  in  the  house,  then 
be  so  haled  in  the  Sea,  —  there  one  may  haue  a  leape  for  his  lyfe  :  but 
I  maruaile  howe  our  Master  speedes. 

Dicke.    lie  warrant  by  this  time  he  is  wetshod.     Dyd  you  euer  see  10 
water  buble  as  the  Sea  did  ?     But  what  shall  we  doe  ? 

Mar.   You  are  now  in  Lincolnshire,  where  you  can  want  no  foule, 

19  me  Q  only  20  so  om.  F.  6,  7  raughter  so  Q  Bl.  8  in] 

in  in  Bl. 


sc.  iv]  GALLATHEA  437 

if  you  can  deuise  meanes  to  catch  them  :  there  be  woods  hard  by, 
and  at  euery  myles  ende  houses  :  so  that  if  you  seeke  on  the  Lande, 

1  5  you  shall  speede  better  then  on  the  Sea. 

Robin.  Sea  ?  nay  I  will  neuer  saile  more,  I  brooke  not  their  diet  : 
their  bread  is  so  hard,  that  one  must  carrie  a  whetstone  in  his  mouth 
to  grinde  his  teeth  :  the  meate  so  salt,  that  one  woulde  thinke  after 
dinner  his  tongue  had  been  powdred  ten  daies. 

20  Raffe.  O  thou  hast  a  sweet  life  Mariner  to  be  pinde  in  a  few 
boordes,  and  to  be  within  an  inche  of  a  thing  bottomlesse.  I  pray 
thee  howe  often  hast  thou  beene  drowned  ? 

Mar.    Foole  thou  seest  I  am  yet  aliue. 

Robin.   Why  be  they  deade  that  be  drownd  ?     I  had  thought  they 

2  5  had  beene  with  the  fish,  and  so  by  chance  beene  caught  vp  with  them 

in  a  Nette  againe.     It  were  a  shame  a  little  cold  water  should  kill 

a  man  of  reason,  when  you  shall  see  a  poore  My  now  lie  in  it,  that  ^ 

hath  no  vnderstanding.  \^ 

Mar.    Thou  art  wise  from  the  crowne  of  thy  heade  vpwards  ;  seeke^X  /,  ^\)     /-  V 
30  you  new  fortunes  nowe,  I  will  followe  mine  olde.     I  can  shift  the    / 

Moone  and  the  Sunne,  and  know  by  one  Carde,  what  all  you  cannot  t,>' 

do  by  a  whole  payre.     The  Lode-stone  that  alwaies  holdeth  his  nose    /    vv>    ^r 
to  the  North,  the  two  and  thirty  poynts  for  the  winde,  the  wonders     \ 
I  see  woulde  make  all  you  blinde  :  you  be  but  boyes,  I  feare  the  Sea     )  x 
35  no  more  then  a  dish  of  water.    Why  fooles,  it  is  but  a  liquid  element.  /     ^ 
Farewell.  {  Going.  ) 

Robin.  It  were  good  wee  learned  his  cunning  at  the  Gardes,  for 
we  must  Hue  by  cosenage;  we  haue  neyther  Lands  nor  wit,  nor 
Maisters,  nor  honestie. 

40  Raffe.  Nay  I  would  faine  haue  his  thirty  two,  that  is,  his  three 
dozen  lacking  foure  points  ;  for  you  see  betwixt  vs  three  there  is  not 
two  good  points. 

Dicke.    Let  vs  call  him  a  little  backe  that  wee  may  learne  those 
points.     Sirra,  a  word  :  (Mariner  rejoins  them)  I  pray  thee  shewe 
45  vs  thy  points. 

Mar.    Will  you  learne  ? 

Dicke.    I. 

Mar.   Then,  as  you  like  this,  I  will  instruct  you  in  all  our  secretes  : 
for  there  is  not  a  clowte  nor  carde,  nor  boord,  nor  post,  that  hath  not 
50  a  speciall  name,  or  singuler  nature. 

20  pind  BL  :  pin'd  F.  40  Raffe]  Rafe  here  as  frequently  hereafter  Q>  so 

Bl.  /.  20  and  often  thereafter 


438  GALLATHEA  [ACT  I 

Dicke.  Well  begin  with  your  points,  for  I  lacke  onlie  points  in  this 
world. 

Mar.  North.  North  &  by  East.  North  North  East.  North-east 
and  by  North.  North-east.  North-east  and  by  East.  East  North 
east.  East  and  by  North.  East.  55 

Dicke.  He  say  it.  North,  north-east,  North-east,  Nore  nore  and 
by  Nore-east — I  shall  neuer  doe  it ! 

Mar.    Thys  is  but  one  quarter. 

Robin.  I  shall  neuer  learne  a  quarter  of  it.  I  will  try.  North, 
North-east,  is  by  the  West  side,  North  and  by  North.  60 

Dicke.    Passing  ill ! 

Mar.    Hast  thou  no  memorie  ?     Try  thou.  ( To  RAFFE.  ) 

Raffe.    North  North  and  by  North.     I  can  goe  no  further. 

Mar.  O  dullerde,  is  thy  head  lighter  then  the  wind,  and  thy  tongue 
so  heauie  it  will  not  wagge  ?  I  will  once  againe  say  it.  65 

Raffe.  I  will  neuer  learne  this  language,  it  wil  get  but  small  liuing, 
when  it  will  scarce  be  learned  till  one  bee  olde. 

Mar.  Nay  then  farewell,  and  if  your  fortunes  exceede  not  your 
wits,  you  shall  starue  before  ye  sleepe.  Exit. 

Raffe.    Was  there  euer  such  cosening  ?    Come  let  vs  to  the  woods,  70 
and  see  what  fortune  we  may  haue  before  they  be  made  shippes  :  as 
for  our  Maister  hee  is  drownd. 

Dicke.    I  will  this  way. 

Robin.    I  this. 

Raffe.    I  this,  &  this  day  twelue-month  let  vs  all  meete  heere  75 
againe :  it  rnay  be  we  shall  eyther  beg  together,  or  hang  together. 

Dicke.  It  skils  not  so  we  be  together.  But  let  vs  sing  now,  though 
we  cry  heereafter. 

SONG. 

Omnes.    "D  Ockes,  shelues,  and  sands,  and  Seas,  farewell. 

Fie  !  who  would  dwell  80 

In  such  a  hell 

As  is  a  ship,  which  (Drunke)  does  reele, 

Taking  salt  healths  from  deck  to  keele. 
Robin.     Vp  were  we  swallowed  in  wet  graues, 
Dicke.  All  sowc't  in  waues,  85 

Raffe.  By  Neptune's  slaues. 

Omnes.    What  shall  wee  doe  being  toss'd  to  shore? 
Robin.     Milke  some  blinde  Tauerne,  and  (there)  roare. 

55  North.East.]  North-East.  Bl.  F.  S.D.  Exit  om.  Q  SONG  .  .  . 

feather  om.  Q 


sc.  iv]  GALLATHEA  439 

Raffe.    Tis  braue  (my  boyes)  to  saile  on  Land, 
90  For  being  well  Man'd, 

We  can  cry  stand. 

Dicke.    The  trade  of  pursing  neare  shal  faile, 
Vntil  the  Hangman  cryes  strike  saile. 
Omnes.  Roue  then  no  matter  whither, 

95  In  faire  or  stormy  wether. 

And  as  wee  Hue,  lets  dye  together, 
One  Hempen  Caper  cuts  a  feather. 

Exeunt. 


ACTUS  SECUNDUS 

#• 

SC^ENA  PRIMA. 

(Enter  in  her  disguise)  GALLATHEA  alone. 

Galla.    TI)  Lush  Gallathea  that  must  frame  thy  affection  fitte  for  thy 

habite,  and  therefore  be  thought  immodest,  because  thou 

art  vnfortunate.     Thy  tender  yeeres  cannot  dissemble  this  deceipt, 

nor  thy  sexe  beare  it.     O  woulde  the  gods  had  made  mee  as  I  seeme 

5  to  be,  or  that  I  might  safelie  be  what  I  seeme  not.     Thy  Father 

doteth  Gallathea,  whose  blind  loue  corrupteth  his  fonde  iudgement, 

and,  iealous  of  thy  death,  seemeth  to  dote  on  thy  beauty ;   whose 

fonde  care  carrieth  his  parciall  eye  as  farre  from  trueth,  as  his  hart 

is  fro  falshood.     But  why  doost  thou  blame  him,  or  blab  what  thou 

10  art,  when  thou  shouldest  onelie  counterfet  what  thou  art  not?     But 

whist !  heere  commeth  a  ladde :  I  will  learne  of  him  how  to  behaue 

my  selfe.  (Retires.) 

Enter  PHILLIDA  in  mans  attire. 

Phil.    I  neither  like  my  gate,  nor  my  garments ;  the  one  vntoward, 
the  other  vnfit,  both  vnseemely.     O  Phillida  ! — but  yonder  staieth 
pi  5  one,  and  therefore  say  nothing.     But  6  Phillida  ! 

Galla.  (aside).  I  perceiue  that  boyes  are  in  as  great  disliking  of 
themselues  as  maides,  therefore  though  I  weare  the  apparell,  I  am 
glad  I  am  not  the  person. 

Phil,  (aside).    It  is  a  pretty  boy  and  a  faire,  hee  might  well  haue 

*o  beene  a  woman ;  but  because  he  is  not,  I  am  glad  I  am,  for  nowe 

vnder  the  color  of  my  coate,.  I  shall  decipher  the  follies  of  their 

kind. 

s.  D.  Exeunt  before  the  song  in  Bl. 


a. 

.f, 


440  GALLATHEA  [ACT  n 

Galla.  (aside).    I  would  salute  him,  but  I  feare  I  should  make 
a  curtsie  in  steed  of  a  legge. 

Phil,  (aside).    If  I  durst  trust  my  face  as  well  as  I  doe  my  habite,  25 
would  spend  some  time  to  make  pastime  :  for  saie  what  they  will 
<r  V^*O   j-'    /  of  a  mans  wit,  it  is  no  seconde  thing  to  be  a  woman. 
-\>r  Galla.  (aside).   All  the  blood  in  my  bodie  would  be  in  my  face,  if 

he  should  aske  me  (as  the  question  among  men  is  common)  are  you 
a  maide  ?  3° 

Phil,  (aside).   Why  stande  I  still  ?   boyes  shoulde  be  bolde ;  but 
heere  commeth  a  braue  traine  that  will  spill  all  our  talke. 

Enter  DIANA,  TELUSA,  and  EUROTA. 

Diana.    God  speede  faire  boy. 

Galla.    You  are  deceiued  Ladie. 

Diana.    Why,  are  you  no  boy  ?  35 

Galla.  (confused).    No  faire  boy. 

Diana.    But,  I  see,  an  vnhappie  boy. 

Tel.  Saw  you  not  the  Deare  come  this  waie  ?  hee  flewe  downe  the 
winde,  &  I  beleeue  you  haue  blancht  him. 

Galla.    Whose  Deare  was  it  Ladie  ?  4° 

Tel.    Dianaes  Deare. 

Galla.    I  saw  none  but  mine  owne  Deare. 

Tel.    This  wagge  is  wanton  or  a  foole !   aske  the  other,  Diana. 

Galla.    (aside).     I  knowe  not  howe  it  commeth  to  passe,  but 
yonder  boy  is  in  mine  eye  too  beautifull !     I  pray  gods  the  Ladies  45 
thinke  him  not  their  Deare. 

Diana  (to  PHILLIDA).  Prettie  lad,  doe  your  sheepe  feede  in  the 
Forrest,  or  are  you  straied  from  your  flocke,  or  on  purpose  come  ye 
to  marre  Dianaes  pastime  ? 

Phil.    I  vnderstande  not  one  word  you  speake.  5° 

Diana.    What,  art  thou  neither  Ladde  nor  sheepehearde  ? 

Phil.  My  mother  said  I  could  be  no  ladde  til  I  was  twentie 
yeere  olde,  nor  keepe  sheepe  till  I  coulde  tell  them ;  and  therefore 
Ladie,  neither  lad  nor  sheephearde  is  heere. 

Tel.   These  boyes  are  both  agreed ;  either  they  are  verie  pleasant  55 
or  too  peruerse :    you  were  best,   Ladie,  make  them   tuske   these 
Woodes,  whilst  wee  stande  with  our  bowes,  and  so  vse  them  as 
Beagles  since  they  haue  so  good  mouthes. 

32  spill  so  all  45  the  before  gods  Bl.  F.  48  your]  you  Q 


sc.  i]  GALLATHEA  441 

Diana.    I  wil.     Follow  me  without  delaie,  or  excuse,  &  if  you  can 
60  doe  nothing,  yet  shall  you  hallow  the  Deare. 

Phil.  I  am  willing  to  goe, — (aside)  not  for  these  Ladies  copanie, 
because  my  selfe  am  a  virgine,  but  for  that  fayre  boyes  fauor,  who 
I  thinke  be  a  God. 

Diana  (to  GALL.).   You,  sir  boy,  shall  also  goe. 

65  Galla.  I  must  if  you  commaunde, — (aside)  and  would  if  you  had 
not.  Exeunt. 

SC^ENA  SECUNDA. 
CUPID  alone  in  Nimphes  apparell,  and  NEPTUNE  lystening. 

Cupid.  Nowe  Cupid,  vnder  the  shape  of  a  sillie  girle  shewe  the 
power  of  a  mightie  God.  Let  Diana  and  all  her  coy  Nimphes 
know,  that  there  is  no  hart  so  chaste  but  thy  bowe  can  wounde,  nor 
eyes  so  modest,  but  thy  brandes  can  kindle,  nor  thoughts  so  staied, 
5  but  thy  shafts  can  make  wauering,  weake  and  wanton  :  Cupid  though 
he  be  a  child,  is  no  babie.  I  will  make  their  paines  my  pastimes,  & 
so  confound  their  loues  in  their  owne  sexe,  that  they  shall  dote  in 
their  desires,  delight  in  their  affections,  and  practise  onely  impossi 
bilities.  Whilst  I  trewant  from  my  mother,  I  will  vse  some  tyranny 

10  in  these  woodes,  and  so  shall  their  exercise  in  foolish  loue,  be  my 
excuse  for  running  away.  I  wil  see  whether  faire  faces  be  alwaies 
chast,  or  Dianaes  virgins  onelie  modest,  els  will  I  spende  both  my 
shafts  and  shyfts,  and  then  Ladies  if  you  see  these  daintie  Dames 
intrapt  in  loue,  saie  softlie  to  your  selues,  wee  may  all  loue. 

Exit. 

15  Nept.  Doe  sillie  Sheepeheards  goe  about  to  deceiue  great  Neptune, 
in  putting  on  mans  attire  vppon  women :  and  Cupid  to  make  sport 
deceiue  them  all,  by  vsing  a  womans  apparell  vpon  a  God  ?  then 
Neptune  that  hast  taken  sundrie  shapes  to  obtaine  loue,  stick  not  to 
practise  some  deceipt  to  shew  thy  deitie,  and  hauing  oftg  thrust  thy 

20  self  into  the  shape  of  beastes  to  deceiue  men,  be  not  coy  to  vse  the 
shape  of  a  Sheepehearde,  to  shew  thy  selfe  a  God.  Neptune  cannot 
be  ouer-reached  by  Swaines,  himselfe  is  subtile ;  and  if  Diana  be 
ouertaken  by  craft,  Cupid  is  wise.  I  will  into  these  woodes  and 
marke  all,  and  in  the  end  will  marre  all.  Exit. 

65  had]  bad  Bl.  F.  n  whither  Q 


442  GALLATHEA  [ACT  n 


TERTIA. 
Enter  RAFFE  alone. 

Raffe.  Call  you  this  seeking  of  fortunes  when  one  can  finde 
nothing  but  byrds  nestes  ?  would  I  were  out  of  these  Woodes,  for 
I  shall  haue  but  wodden  lucke,  heers  nothing  but  the  skreeking  of 
Owles,  croking  of  Frogs,  hissing  of  Adders,  barking  of  Foxes,  walking 
of  Hagges.  But  what  be  these  ?  5 

Enter  Fayries  daundng  and  playing  and  so,  Exeunt. 

I  will  follow  them  :  to  hell  I  shall  not  goe,  for 

so  faire  faces  neuer  can  haue  such  hard  fortunes.     What  blacke  boy 
is  this  ? 

Enter  the  Alcumists  boy  PETER. 

Peter.  What  a  life  doe  I  leade  with  my  Maister,  nothing  but 
blowing  of  bellows,  beating  of  spirits,  &  scraping  of  Croslets  ?  it  is  10 
a  very  secrete  Science,  for  none  almost  can  vnderstand  the  language 
of  it.  Sublimation,  Almigation,  Calcination,  Rubification,  Encorpo- 
ration,  Circination,  Sementation,  Albification,  and  Frementation. 
With  as  many  termes  vnpossible  to  be  vttered,  as  the  Arte  to  be 
compassed.  15 

Raffe.  Let  me  crosse  my  selfe,  I  neuer  heard  so  many  great  deuils 
in  a  little  Monkies  mouth. 

Peter.  Then  our  instruments,  Croslets,  Subliuatories,  Cucurbits, 
Limbecks,  Decensores,  Violes,  manuall  and  murall,  for  enbibing  and 
conbibing,  Bellowes,  molificatiue  and  enduratiue.  20 

Raffe.    What  language  is  this  ?  doe  they  speake  so  ? 

Peter.  Then  our  Mettles,  Saltpeeter,  Vitrioll,  Sal  tartar,  Sal  per- 
perat,  Argoll,  Resagar,  Sal  Armonick,  Egrimony,  Lumany,  Brimstone, 
Valerian,  Tartar  Alam,  Breeme-worte,  Glasse,  Vnsleked  lyme,  Chalke, 
Ashes,  hayre,  and  what  not,  to  make  I  know  not  what.  25 

Raffe.  My  haire  beginneth  to  stande  vpright,  would  the  boy 
would  make  an  end  ! 

Peter.  And  yet  such  a  beggerly  Science  it  is,  and  so  strong  on 
multiplication,  that  the  ende  is  to  haue  neyther  gold,  wit,  nor 
honestie.  3° 

Raffe.   Then  am  I  iust  of  thy  occupation.     What  fellow,  well  met. 

Peter.    Felow  !  vpon  what  acquaintance  ? 

Raffe.    Why  thou  saist,   the  end   of  thy  occupation  is    to  haue 

3  woodden  Bl.  F.  s.  D.  Enter  ...  so,  Exeunt  ()  Bl.  F.          s.  D.  Enter  ... 

PETER  Q  BL  F.  18  Subliuatories  so  all:  cf.  note  31  well]  met  F. 


sc.  in]  GALLATHEA  443 

neither  wit,  money,  nor  honestie :    &  me  thinks  at  a  blush,  thou 
35  shouldest  be  one  of  my  occupation. 

Peter.   Thou  art  deceiued,  my  Maister  is  an  Alcumist. 
Raffe.    Whats  that,  a  man  ? 

Peter.   A  little  more  then  a  man,  and  a  hayres  bredth  lesse  then 
a  God.     He  can  make  of  thy  cap  gold,  and  by  multiplication  of  one 
40  grote,  three  old  Angels.     I  haue  knowne  him  of  the  tagge  of  a  poynt, 
to  make  a  siluer  boole  of  3,  pint. 

Raffe.  That  makes  thee  haue  never  a  point,  they  be  al  turned  to 
pots  :  but  if  he  can  doe  thys,  he  shall  be  a  god  altogether. 

Peter.   Yf  thou  haue  any  gold  to  worke  on,  thou  art  then  made  for 
45  euer :  for  with  one  pound  of  golde,  hee  will  goe  neere  to  paue  tenne 
Akers  of  ground. 

Raffe.    Howe  might  a  man  serue  him  and  learne  hys  cunning  ? 
Peter.    Easilie.     First    seeme    to    vnderstand    the    termes,    and 
speciallie  marke  these  points.     In  our  Arte  there  are  foure  Spirits. 
50      Raffe.    Nay,  I  haue  doone  if  you  worke  with  deuils. 

Peter.  Thou  art  grosse ;  we  call  those  Spirits  that  are  the  grounds 
of  our  Arte,  &  as  it  were  the  mettles  more  incorporatiue  for  domina 
tion.  The  first  Spirit  is  Quick-siluer. 

Raffe.    That  is  my  Spirit,  for  my  siluer  is  so  quicke,  that  I  haue 
55  much  a  doe  to  catch  it,  and  when  I  haue  it,  it  is  so  nimble  that  I 
cannot  holde  it ;  I  thought  there  was  a  deuill  in  it. 
Peter.   The  second,  Orpyment. 

Raffe.   Thats  no  Spirit,  but  a  worde  to  coniure  a  Spirit. 
Peter.   The  third,  Sal  Armoniack. 
60      Raffe.   A  propper  word. 

Peter.    The  fourth,  Brimstone. 

Raffe.    Thats  a  stincking  Spirit,  I  thought  there  was  some  spirit  in 
it  because  it  burnt  so  blew.     For  my  Mother  would  often  tell  mee 
that  when  the  candle  burnt  blew,  there  was  some  ill  Spirit  in  the 
65  house,  and  now  I  perceiue  it  was  the  spirit  Brimstone. 
Peter.   Thou  canst  remember  these  foure  spirits  ? 
Raffe.    Let  me  alone  to  coniure  them. 

Peter.  Now  are  there  also  seauen  bodies, — but  heere  commeth 
my  Maister.  {They  retire.) 

Enter  Alcumist. 

70      Raffe.   This  is  a  begger. 

Peter.    No,  such  cunning  men  must  disguise  themselues,  as  though 
41  boule  Bl.  F.  56  a  om.  Bl.  F.  66  canst]  cast  Q 


444  GALLATHEA  [ACT  n 

there  were  nothing  in  them,  for  otherwise  they  shall  be  compelled  to 
worke  for  Princes,  and  so  be  constrained  to  bewray  their  secrets. 

Raffe.    I  like  not  his  attire,  but  am  enamored  of  hys  arte. 

Alch.  (pondering}.   An  ounce  of  $iluer  limde,  as  much  of  crude  75 
Mercury,  of  Spirits  foure,  beeing  tempered  with  the  bodies  seauen, 
by  multiplying  of  it  ten  times,  comes  for  one  pound,  eyght  thousand 
pounds,  so  that  I  may  haue  onely  Beechen  coales. 

Raffe.   Is  it  possible  ? 

Peter.    It  is  more  certaine  then  certainty.  80 

Raffe.  He  tell  thee  one  secrete,  I  stole  a  siluer  thimble ;  dost  thou 
thinke  that  he  will  make  it  a  pottle  pot  ? 

Peter.  A  pottle  pot,  nay  I  dare  warrant  it  a  whole  Cupbord  of 
plate  :  why  of  the  quintessence  of  a  leaden  plummet,  he  hath  framed 
xx.  dozen  of  siluer  Spoones.  Looke  howe  hee  studies !  I  durst  85 
venture  my  life  hee  is  nowe  casting  about,  howe  of  his  breath  hee 
may  make  golden  braselets,  for  often-times  of  smoke  hee  hath  made 
siluer  drops. 

Raffe.    What  doe  I  heare  ? 

Peter.    Dydst  thou  neuer  heare  howe  lupiter  came  in  a  golden  90 
shower  to  Danae  ? 

Raffe.    I  remember  that  tale. 

Peter.  That  shower  did  my  Master  make  of  a  spooneful  of  Tartar- 
alom !  but  with  the  fire  of  blood,  &  the  corasiue  of  the  ayre,  he  is 
able  to  make  nothing  infinit, — but  whist !  he  espieth  vs.  95 

Alch.  What  Peter  doe  you  loyter,  knowing  that  euerie  minute 
increaseth  our  Mine  ? 

Peter.  I  was  glad  to  take  ayre,  for  the  mettle  came  so  fast,  that 
I  feared  my  face  would  haue  beene  turned  to  siluer. 

Alch.    But  what  stripling  is  this  ?  100 

Peter.    One  that  is  desirous  to  learne  your  craft. 

Alch.    Craft  sir  boy,  you  must  call  it  misterie. 

Raffe.    All  is  one,  a  craftie  misterie,  and  a  mysticall  craft. 

Alch.    Canst  thou  take  paynes  ? 

Raffe.    Infinite.  105 

Alch.  But  thou  must  be  sworne  to  be  secret,  and  then  I  wyll 
entertaine  thee. 

Raffe.  I  can  sweare,  though  I  be  a  poore  fellow,  as  wel  as  the 
best  man  in  the  Shyre.  But  Sir  I  much  maruaile  that  you,  beeing 
so  cunning,  should  be  so  ragged.  no 

95  whist !]  whiles!  Bl.  F. 


sc.  in]  GALLATHEA  445 

Alch.    O  my  childe,  Gryphes  make  theyr  nestes  of  gold  though 

their  coates  are  fethers,  and  we  fether  our  nestes  with  Diamonds, 

though  our  garments  be  but  frize.     Yf  thou  knewest  the  secret  of 

this  Science,  the  cunning  woulde  make  thee  so  proude  that  thou 

115  wouldest  disdaine  the  outward  pompe, 

Peter.    My  Maister  is  so  rauisht  with  his  Arte,  that  we  manie 
times  goe  supperlesse  to  bed,  for  he  wil  make  gold  of  his  breade, 
and  such  is  the  drouth  of  his  desire,  that  we  all  wish  our  very  guts 
were  gold. 
120      Raffe.    I  haue  good  fortune  to  light  vpon  such  a  Maister. 

Alch.   When  in  the  depth  of  my   skill   I   determine  to  try  the 

vttermost  of  mine  Arte,  I  am  disswaded  by  the  gods  ;  otherwise, 

I  durst  vndertake  to  make  the  fire  as  it  flames,  gold,  the  winde 

as  it  blowes,  siluer,  the  water  as  it  runnes,  lead,  the  earth  as  it 

125  standes,  yron,  the  skye,  brasse,  and  mens  thoughts,  firme  mettles. 

Raffe.    I  must  blesse  my  selfe,  and  maruell  at  you. 

Alch.    Come  in,  and  thou  shalt  see  all.  Exit. 

Raffe.    I   followe,   I   runne,   I   flye;    they   say   my    Father   hath 
a  golden  thumbe,  you  shall  see  me  haue  a  golden  bodie. 

Exit. 

130  Peter.  I  am  glad  of  this,  for  now  I  shall  haue  leysure  to  runne 
away  :  such  a  bald  Arte  as  neuer  was  !  let  him  keepe  his  newe  man, 
for  he  shall  neuer  see  his  olde  againe  :  God  shelde  me  from  blowing 
gold  to  nothing,  with  a  strong  imagination  to  make  nothing  any 
thing.  Exit. 

QUARTA. 


{Enter)  GALLATHEA  alone. 

Galla.    How  now   Gallatheat   miserable   Gallathea,  that  hauing 

put  on  the  apparell  of  a  boy,  thou  canst   (not)  also  put  on  the 

minde.     O  faire  Melebeus,  I,  too  faire,  and  therefore   I  feare,  too 

proude.     Had  it  not  beene  better  for  thee  to  haue  beene  a  sacrifice 

5  to  Neptune,  then  a  slaue  to  Cupid?  to  die  for  thy  Countrey,  then  to 

Hue  in  thy  fancie  ?  to  be  a  sacrifice,  then  a  Louer  ?     O  woulde,  when 

I  hunted  his  eye  with  my  harte,  hee  might  haue  scene  my  hart  with 

his  eyes  !     Why  did  Nature  to  him,  a  boy,  giue  a  face  so  faire,  or  to 

me,  a  virgine,  a  fortune  so  hard  ?     I  will  now  vse  for  the  distaffe  the 

10  bowe,  and  play  at  quaites  abroade,  that  was  wont  to  sowe  in  my 

in  Grypes  Bl.  F.  118  drougth  Bl.  F.          a  not  om.  Q  BL  F.  10 

quaites  so  all 


446  GALLATHEA  [ACT  11,  sc.  v 

Sampler  at  home.  It  may  be  Gallathea, — foolish  Gallathea,  what 
may  be  ?  nothing.  Let  mee  followe  him  into  the  Woods,  and  thou 
sweete  Venus  be  my  guide.  Exit. 

SCVENA   QUINTA. 

Enter  PHILLIDA  alone. 

Phil.  Poore  Phillida,  curse  the  time  of  thy  birth  and  rarenes 
of  thy  beautie,  the  vnaptnes  of  thy  apparel,  and  the  vntamednes 
of  thy  affections.  Art  thou  no  sooner  in  the  habite  of  a  boy,  but 
thou  must  be  enamored  of  a  boy  ?  what  shalt  thou  doe  when  what 
best  lyketh  thee,  most  discontenteth  thee?  Goe  into  the  Woods,  5 
watch  the  good  times,  his  best  moodes,  and  transgresse  in  loue 
a  little  of  thy  modestie.  I  will, — I  dare  not ;  'thou  must, — I  cannot. 
Then  pine  in  thine  owne  peeuishnes.  I  will  not :  I  wil.  Ah  Phil- 
lida  doe  something,  nay  anie  thing  rather  then  Hue  thus.  Well,  what 
I  will  doe,  my  selfe  knowes  not ;  but  what  I  ought  I  knowe  too  well,  10 
and  so  I  goe  resolute,  eyther  to  bewray  my  loue,  or  suffer  shame. 

Exit. 


ACTUS   TERTIUS 


PRIMA. 

(Enter)  TELUSA  alone. 

Tel.  T  T  Owe  nowe  ?  what  newe  conceits,  what  strange  contraries 
breede  in  thy  minde  ?  is  thy  Diana  become  a  Venus, 
thy  chast  thoughts  turnd  to  wanton  lookes,  thy  conquering  modestie 
to  a  captiue  imagination  ?  Beginnest  thou  with  Piralis  to  die  in  the 
ayre  and  Hue  in  the  fire,  to  leaue  the  sweete  delight  of  hunting,  and  5 
to  followe  the  hote  desire  of  loue  ?  O  Telusa,  these  words  are  vnfit 
for  thy  sexe  beeing  a  virgine,  but  apt  for  thy  affections  being  a  Louer. 
And  can  there  in  yeeres  so  young,  in  education  so  precise,  in  vowes 
so  holy,  and  in  a  hart  so  chaste,  enter  eyther  a  strong  desire,  or 
a  wish,  or  a  wauering  thought  of  loue  ?  Can  Cupids  brands  quench  10 
Vestas  flames,  and  his  feeble  shafts  headed  with  feathers,  pearce 
deeper  the  Dianaes  arrowes  headed  with  steele  ?  Breake  thy  bowe 
Telusa  that  seekest  to  breake  thy  vowe,  and  let  those  hands  that 
aymed  to  hit  the  wilde  Hart,  scratche  out  those  eyes  that  haue 


ACT  in,  sc.  i]  GALLATHEA  447 

15  wounded  thy  tame  hart.     O  vaine  and  onely  naked  name  of  Chas- 
title,  that  is  made  eternall,  and  perisheth  by  time:    holy,  and  is     - 
infected  by  fancy :    diuine,  and  is  made  mortall  by  folly.    \Vjrgins  *"     -  %Y  v  °O 
harts  I  perceiue  are  not  vnlike  Cotton  trees,  whose  fruite  is  so  hard 
in  the  budde,  that  it  soundeth  like  steele,  and  beeing  rype,  poureth 

20  forth  nothing  but  wooll,  and  theyr  thoughts  like  the  leaues  of  Lunary, 
which  the  further  they  growe  from  the  Sunne,  the  sooner  they  are 
scorched  with  his  beanies7[  O  Melebeus,  because  thou  art  fayre,  must 
I  be  fickle,  and  false  my  vowe  because  I  see  thy  vertue?  Fonde 
gyrle  that  I  am  to  thinke  of  loue !  nay  vaine  profession  that  I  follow 

25  to  disdaine  loue !  but  heere  commeth  Eurota,  I  must  nowe  put 
on  a  redde  maske  and  blushe,  least  she  perceiue  my  pale  face  and 
laugh. 

Enter  EUROTA. 

Eurota.  Telusa,  Diana  bid  me  hunt  you  out,  &  saith  that  you 
care  not  to  hunt  with  her,  but  if  you  followe  any  other  Game  then 

30  she  hath  rowsd,  your  punishment  shall  be  to  bend  all  our  bowes, 
and  weaue  al  our  strings.     Why  looke  ye  so  pale,  so  sad,  so  wildly  ? 
Tel.   Eurota,  the  Game  I  follow  is  the  thing  I  flye :  my  strange 
disease  my  chiefe  desire. 

Eurota.    I  am  no  Oedipus  to  expound  riddles,  and  I  muse  how 

35  thou  canst  be  Sphinx  to  vtter  them.  But  I  pray  thee  Telusa  tell 
mee  what  thou  aylest :  if  thou  be  sicke,  this  ground  hath  leaues  to 
heale :  if  melancholic,  heere  are  pastimes  to  vse :  if  peeuish,  wit 
must  weane  it,  or  time,  or  counsell.  Yf  thou  be  in  loue  (for  I  haue 
heard  of  such  a  beast  called  loue)  it  shall  be  cured :  why  blushest 

40  thou  Telusa  ? 

Tel.  To  heare  thee  in  reckoning  my  paines  to  recite  thine  owne. 
I  sawe  Eurota  how  amorouslie  you  glaunced  your  eye  on  the  faire 
boy  in  the  white  coate,  and  howe  cunninglie  (now  that  you  would 
haue  some  talke  of  loue)  you  hit  me  in  the  teeth  with  loue. 

45  Eurota.  I  confesse  that  I  am  in  loue,  and  yet  sweare  that  I  know 
not  what  it  is.  I  feele  my  thoughts  vnknit,  mine  eyes  vnstaied,  my 
hart  I  know  not  how  affected,  or  infected,  my  sleepes  broken  and 
full  of  dreames,  my  wakenesse  sad  and  full  of  sighes,  my  selfe  in  all 
thinges  vnlike  my  selfe.  If  this  be  loue,  I  woulde  it  had  neuer  beene 

50  deuised. 

1 6  perish  Q  18  Cotton  Q  F. :  cotte  BL  23  false]  falsifie  Bl.  F. 

38  thou]  you  Bl.  F.  48  wakenesse  so  all 


448  GALLATHgA  [ACT  m 

Tel.  Thou  hast  told  what  I  am  in  vttering  what  thy  selfe  is  :  these 
are  my  passions  Eurota,  my  vnbridled  passions,  my  intolerable 
passions,  which  I  were  as  good  acknowledge  and  craue  counsell, 
as  to  denie  and  endure  perill. 

Eurota.    How  did  it  take  you  first  Telusa  ?  55 

Tel.  By  the  eyes,  my  wanton  eyes  which  conceiued  the  picture  of 
his  face,  and  hangd  it  on  the  verie  strings  of  my  hart.  O  faire  Mele- 
beus  !  6  fonde  Telusa  !  but  how  did  it  take  you  Eurota  ? 

Eurota.    By  the  eares,  whose  sweete  words  suncke  so  deepe  into 
my  head,  that  the  remembrance  of  his  wit  hath  bereaued  mee  of  my  60 
wisedome  ;  6  eloquent  Tyterus  /  6  credulous  Eurota  !   But  soft,  heere 
commeth  Ramia,  but  let  her  not  heare  vs  talke  :  wee  will  withdrawe 
our  selues,  and  heare  her  talke.  (  They  retire. ) 

Enter  RAMIA. 

Ramia.    I  am  sent  to  seeke  others  that  haue  lost  my  selfe. 

Eurota  {aside  to  TEL.).   You  shall  see  Ramia  hath  also  bitten  on  65 
a  loue  leafe. 

Ramia.  Can  there  be  no  hart  so  chast,  but  loue  can  wound? 
nor  vowes  so  holie  but  affection  can  violate?  Vaine  art  thou 
vertue,  &  thou  chastity  but  a  by  word,  when  you  both  are  sub- 
iect  to  loue,  of  all  thinges  the  most  abiect.  If  Loue  be  a  God,  7° 
why  should  not  louers  be  vertuous  ?  Loue  is  a  God,  and  Louers  are 
vertuous. 

Eurota  {advancing).  Indeede  Ramia,  if  Louers  were  not  vertuous, 
then  wert  thou  vicious. 

Ramia.   What  are  you  come  so  neere  me  ?  75 

Tel.    I  thinke  we  came  neere  you  when  wee  saide  you  loued. 

Eurota.  Tush  Ramia,  tis  too  late  to  recall  it,  to  repent  it  a  shame  : 
therfore  I  pray  thee  tell  what  is  loue  ? 

Ramia.    If  my  selfe  felt  onelie  this  infection,  I  would  then  take 
vpon  me  the  definition,  but  beeing  incident  to  so  manie,  I  dare  not  80 
my  selfe  describe  it ;  but  we  will  all  talke  of  that  in  the  Woodes. 
Diana  stormeth  that  sending  one  to  seeke  another,  shee  looseth  all. 
Seruia,  of  all  the  Nimphes  the  coyest,  loueth  deadly,  and  exclaimeth 
against  Diana,   honoureth   Venus,  detesteth   Vesta,  and   maketh  a 
common  scorne  of  vertue.     Clymene,  whose  statelie  lookes  seemed  85 
to  amaze  the  greatest  Lordes,  stoopeth,  yeeldeth,  and  fauneth  on 
the  strange  boy  in  the  Woods.     My  selfe  (with  blushing  I  speak  it) 
am  thrall  to  that  boy,  that  faire  boy,  that  beautifull  boy. 


sc.  i]  GALLATHEA  449 

Tel.   What  haue  wee  heere,  all  in  loue  ?  no  other  foode  then  fancie  ? 
90  no,  no,  she  shall  not  haue  the  fayre  boy. 
Eurota.    Nor  you  Telusa. 
Ramia.   Nor  you  Eurota. 

Tel.  I  loue  Melebeus,  and  my  deserts  shalbe  aunswerable  to  my 
desires.  I  will  forsake  Diana  for  him.  I  will  die  for  him. 
95  Ramia.  So  saith  Clymene,  and  shee  will  haue  him.  I  care  not ; 
my  sweete  Tyterus,  though  he  seeme  proude,  I  impute  it  to  childish- 
nes :  who  beeing  yet  scarce  out  of  his  swath-clowtes,  cannot  vnder- 
stande  these  deepe  conceits ;  I  loue  him. 

Eurota.    So  doe  I,  and  I  will  haue  him. 

ioo  Tel.  Immodest  all  that  wee  are,  vnfortunate  all  that  we  are  like  to 
be !  shall  virgins  beginne  to  wrangle  for  loue,  and  become  wanton  in 
their  thoughts,  in  their  words,  in  their  actions?  O  deuine  Loue, 
which  art  therfore  called  deuine,  because  thou  ouer-reachest  the 
wisest,  conquerest  the  chastest,  and  doost  all  things  both  vnlikely 
105  and  impossible,  because  thou  art  Loue.  Thou  makest  the  bashfull 
impudent,  the  wise  fond,  the  chast  wanton,  and  workest  contraries 
to  our  reach,  because  thy  selfe  is  beyond  reason. 

Eurota.   Talke  no  more  Telusa,  your  words  wound.     Ah,  would 
I  were  no  woman  ! 
no      Ramia.    Would  Tyterus  were  no  boy  ! 

Tel.    Would  Telusa  were  no  body  !  Exeunt. 

SCTENA  SECUNDA. 
{Enter)  PHILLIDA  and  GALLATHEA. 

Phil.    It  is  pitty  that  Nature  framed  you  not  a  woman,  hauing 
a  face  so  faire,  so  louely  a  countenaunce,  so  modest  a  behauiour. 

Galla.    There  is  a  Tree  in  Tylos,  whose  nuttes  haue  shels  like  fire, 
and  beeing  cracked,  the  karnell  is  but  water. 

5      Phil.    What  a  toy  is  it  to  tell  mee  of  that  tree,  beeing  nothing  to 
the  purpose :  I  say  it  is  pitty  you  are  not  a  woman. 

Galla.    I  would  not  wish  to  be  a  woman,  vnlesse  it  were  because 
thou  art  a  man. 

Phil.    Nay,  I  doe  not  wish  (thee)  to  be  a  woman,  for  then  I  should 
10  not  loue  thee,  for  I  haue  sworne  neuer  to  loue  a  woman. 

Galla.   A  strange  humor  in  so  prettie  a  youth,  and  according  to 
myne,  for  my  selfe  will  neuer  loue  a  woman. 

97  his  om.  F.  4  kernell  BL  F.  12  loue  om.  Bl.  F. 

BOND    II  G   g 


450  GALLATHEA  [ACT  in 

Phil.  It  were  a  shame  if  a  mayden  should  be  a  suter,  (a  thing 
hated  in  that  sexe)  that  thou  shouldest  denie  to  be  her  seruant. 

Gotta.    If  it  be  a  shame  in  me,  it  can  be  no  commendation  in  you,  1 5 
for  your  selfe  is  of  that  minde. 

Phil    Suppose  I  were  a  virgine  (I  blush  in  supposing  my  selfe  one) 
and  that  vnder  the  habite  of  a  boy  were  the  person  of  a  mayde,  if 
I  should  vtter  my  affection  with  sighes,  manifest  my  sweete  loue  by 
my  salte  teares,  and  proue  my  loyaltie  vnspotted,  and  my  griefes  in-  20 
tollerable,  would  not  then  that  faire  face  pittie  thys  true  hart  ? 

Galla.  Admit  that  I  were  as  you  woulde  haue  mee  suppose  that 
you  are,  and  that  I  should  with  intreaties,  prayers,  othes,  bribes,  and 
what  euer  can  be  inuented  in  loue,  desire  your  fauour,  would  you  not 
yeeld  ?  25 

Phil.   Tush,  you  come  in  with  '  admit '. 

Galla.    And  you  with  '  suppose '. 

Phil,  {aside).  What  doubtfull  speeches  be  these  ?  I  feare  me  he 
is  as  I  am,  a  mayden. 

Galla.  {aside).   What  dread  riseth  in  my  minde  !     I  feare  the  boy  30 
to  be  as  I  am  a  mayden. 

Phil,  {aside).  Tush,  it  cannot  be,  his  voice  shewes  the  con- 
trarie. 

Galla.  {aside).  Yet  I  doe  not  thinke  it,  for  he  woulde  then  haue 
blushed.  35 

Phil.    Haue  you  euer  a  Sister  ? 

Galla.  If  I  had  but  one,  my  brother  must  needs  haue  two ;  but 
I  pray  haue  you  euer  a  one  ? 

Phil.  My  Father  had  but  one  daughter,  and  therefore  I  could  haue 
no  sister.  40 

Galla.  {aside).  Aye  me,  he  is  as  I  am,  for  his  speeches  be  as 
mine  are. 

Phil,  {aside).  What  shall  I  doe,  eyther  hee  is  subtill  or  my  sexe 
simple. 

Galla.  {aside).    I  haue  knowne  diuers  of  Dianaes  Nimphes  ena-  45 
mored  of  him,  yet  hath  he  reiected  all,  eyther  as  too  proude,  to 
disdaine,  or  too  childish,  not  to  vnderstande,  or  for  that  he  knoweth 
himselfe  to  be  a  Virgin. 

Phil,  {aside).  I  am  in  a  quandarie ;  Dianaes  Nimphes  haue  fol 
lowed  him,  and  he  despised  them,  eyther  knowing  too  well  the  50 

26,  27  admit  .  .  .  suppose  Q  BL  :  itals.  F.  4.6-?  proude,  .  .  .  childish, 

commas  here  first  48  be]  he  Q 


sc.ii]  GALLATHEA  451 

beautie  of  his  owne  face,  or  that  himselfe  is  of  the  same  moulde. 
I  will  once  againe  try  him. — {Aloud).  You  promised  me  in  the 
woods,  that  you  would  loue  me  before  all  Dianaes  Nimphes. 

Galla.    I,  so  you  would  loue  mee  before  all  Dianaes  Nimphes. 
55      Phil.   Can  you  preferre  a  fonde  boy  as  I  am_,  before  so  faire  Ladies 
as  they  are  ? 

Galla.   Why  should  not  I  as  well  as  you  ? 

Phil.    Come  let  vs  into  the  Groue,  and  make  much  one  of  another, 
that  cannot  tel  what  to  think  one  of  another.  Exeunt. 

SOENA  TERTIA. 
{Enter)  Alcumist,  RAFE. 

Akh.   Rafe,  my  boy  is   run   away,  I  trust  thou  wilt  not  runne 
after. 

Raffe.    I  would  I  had  a  paire  of  wings  that  I  might  flie  after. 
Akh.    My  boy  was  the  veriest  theefe,  the  arantest  lyar,  and  the 
5  vildest  swearer  in  the  worlde,  otherwise  the  best  boy  in  the  world ; 
he  hath  stolen  my  apparell,  all  my  money,  and  forgot  nothing  but 
to  bid  mee  farewell. 

Raffe.    That  will  not  I  forget ;  farewell,  Maistej. 
Akh.    Why  thou  hast  not  yet  scene  the  ende  of  my  Arte. 
10      Raffe.    I  would  I  had  not  known  the  beginning.     Did  not  you 
promise  mee,  of  my  siluer  thimble  to  make  a  whole  cupboord  of 
plate,    and   that   of  a   Spanish   needle   you   would   build   a   siluer 
steeple  ? 

Akh.  I  jRafe,  the  fortune  of  this  Arte  consisteth  in  the  measure 
15  of  the  fire ;  for  if  there  be  a  cole  too  much,  or  a  sparke  too  little,  if 
it  be  a  little  too  hote,  or  a  thought  too  softe,  all  our  labour  is  in  vaine  ; 
besides,  they  that  blowe,  must  beate'  tyme  with  theyr  breathes,  as 
Musicions  doe  with  their  breasts,  so  as  there  must  be  of  the  mettals, 
the  fire  and  workers  a  verie  harmonie. 

20  Raffe.  Nay,  if  you  must  weigh  your  fire  by  ounces,  &  take  measure 
of  a  mans  blast,  you  may  then  make  of  a  dramme  of  winde  a  wedge 
of  gold,  and  of  the  shadowe  of  one  shilling  make  another,  so  as  you 
haue  an  Organist  to  tune  your  temperatures. 

Akh.    So  is  it ;  and  often  doth  it  happen  that  the  iust  proportion 
25  of  the  fire  and  all  things  concurre. 

Raffe.    Concurre  ?  condogge  !     I  will  away. 

Akh.   Then  away  !  Exit  Alcumist. 

5  vilest  Bl.  F. 
Gg  2 


452  GALLATHEA  [ACT  in 

Enter  Astronomer. 

Raffe.  An  arte  quoth  you,  that  one  multiplieth  so  much  all  day, 
that  he  wanteth  money  to  buy  meate  at  night  ?  But  what  haue  we 
yonder  ?  What  deuoute  man  ?  he  will  neuer  speake  till  he  be  vrged.  3° 
I  wil  salute  him. — {To  the  Astronomer.)  Sir,  there  lieth  a  purse 
vnder  your  feete;  if  I  thought  it  were  not  yours,  I  would  take 
it  vp. 

Astron.    Doost  thou  not  knowe  that  I  was  calculating  the  natiuity 
of  Alexanders  great  horse  ?  35 

Raffe.    Why  what  are  you  ? 

Astron.    An  Astronomer. 

Raffe.    What  one  of  those  that  makes  Almanacks  ? 

Astron.    Ipsissimus.      I   can   tell   the   minute   of  thy  byrth,   the 
moment  of  thy  death,  and  the  manner.     I  can  tel  thee  what  wether  40 
shall   be  betweene  this  and   Octogessimus  octauns  mirabilis  annus. 
When»I  list  I  can  sette  a  trap  for  the  Sunne,  catch  the  Moone  with 
lyme  twigges,  and  goe  a  batfowling  for  starres.    I  can  tell  thee  things 
past,  and  things  to  come,  &  with  my  cunning,  measure  how  many 
yards  of  Clowdes  are  beneath  the  Skye.    Nothing  can  happen  which  45 
I  fore-see  not ;  nothing  shall. 

Raffe.    I  hope  sir  you  are  no  more  then  a  God. 

Astron.    I  can  bring  the  twelue  signes  out  of  theyr  Zodiacks,  and 
hang  them  vp  at  Tauerns. 

Raffe.    I  pray  you  sir  tell  me  what  you  cannot  doe,  for  I  perceiue  50 
there  is  nothing  so  easie  for  you  to  compasse  as  impossibilities.    But 
what  be  those  signes  ? 

Astron.    As  a  man  should  say,  signes  which  gouerne  the  body. 
The  Ramme  gouerneth  the  head. 

Raffe.    That  is  the  worst  signe  for  the  head.  55 

Astron.    Why? 

Raffe.    Because  it  is  a  signe  of  an  ill  Ewe. 

Astron.    Tush,  that  signe  must  be  there.     Then  the  Bull  for  the 
throte,  Capricornus  for  the  knees. 

Raffe.    I  will  heare  no  more  signes,  if  they  be  all  such  desperate  60 
signes :    but  seeing  you  are,  (I  know  not  who  to  terme  you)  shall 
I  serue  you  ?     I  would  faine  serue. 

Astron.    I  accept  thee. 

Raffe.    Happie  am   I,  for  now  shall   I  reach  thoughts,   and  tell 
how  many  drops  of  water  goes  to  the  greatest  showre  of  rayne.  65 


sc.  m]  GALLATHEA  453 

You  shall  see  me  catch  the  Moone  in  the  clips  like  a  Conny  in 

a  pursnet. 

Astron.    I  will  teach  thee  the  Golden  number,  the  Epact,  and  the 

Prime. 
70      Raffe  (aside).    I  wil  meddle  no  more  with  numbring  of  gold,  for 

multiplication  is  a  miserable  action  :  (aloud)  I  pray  sir  what  wether 

shall  we  haue  this  howre  three-score  yeere  ? 

Astron.    That  I  must  cast  by  our  ludicials  Astronomicall  ;  there 

fore  come  in  with  me,  and  thou  shall  see  euerie  wrinkle  of  my  Astro- 
75  logicall  wisedome,  and  I  will  make  the  Heauens  as  plaine  to  thee  as 

the  high  waie,  thy  cunning  shall  sitte  cheeke  by  iole  with  the  Sunnes 

Chariot  ;  then  shalt  thou  see  what  a  base  thing  it  is,  to  haue  others 

thoughts  creepe  on  the  grounde,  when  as  thine  shall  be  stitched  to 

the  starres. 
80      Raffe.    Then  I  shall  be  translated  from  this  mortality. 

Astron.    Thy  thoughts  shall  be  metamorphosed,  and  made  haile 

fellowes  with  the  Gods. 

Raffe.    O  fortune  !     I  feele  my  very  braines  moralized,  and  as  it 

were  a  certaine  contempt  of  earthly  actions  is  crept  into  my  minde, 
85  by  an  etheriall  contemplation.  —  Come  let  vs  in.  Exeunt. 


QUARTA. 

(Enter)  DIANA,  TELUSA,  EUROTA,  RAMIA,  LARISSA. 

Diana.  What  newes  haue  we  heere  Ladies  ;  are  all  in  loue  ?  are 
Dianaes  Nimphes  become  Venus  wantons  ?  is  it  a  shame  to  be  chast, 
because  you  be  amiable  ?  or  must  you  needes  be  amorous,  because 
you  are  faire  ?  O  Venus,  if  thys  be  thy  spight,  I  will  requite  it  wyth 

5  more  then  hate,  well  shalt  thou  know  what  it  is  to  drib  thine  arrowes 
vp  and  downe  Dianaes  leies.  There  is  an  vnknowne  Nimph  that 
straggleth  vp  and  downe  these  woods,  which  I  suspect  hath  beene 
the  weauer  of  these  woes,  I  saw  her  slumbring  by  the  brooke  side, 
go  search  her  &  bring  her,  if  you  find  vpon  her  shoulder  a  burne,  it 

10  is  Cupid  :  if  any  print  on  her  backe  like  a  leafe,  it  is  Medea  :  if  any 
picture  on  her  left  breast  like  a  birde,  it  is  Calisto  ;  who  euer  it  be, 
bring  her  hether,  and  speedilie  bring  her  hether. 

Tel.    I  will  goe  with  speede.  (Exit  TELUSA.)" 

66  'clips  /'.  as  for  eclipse  :  unnecessary,  though  possibly  the  ptin  is  intended 
74  of]  in  F.  78  stiched  F.  1  1  Calisto]  Calipso  all  eds. 


V 

GALLATHEA  [ACT  m 


'     Diana.   Goe  you  Larissa  and  helpe  her, 

Larissa.   I  obey.  {Exit  LARISSA.)  15 

—  Diana.  Nowe  Ladies,  dooth  not  that  make  your  cheekes  blushe, 
that  makes  mine  eares  glowe?  or  can  you  remember  that  without 
sobs,  which  Diana  can  not  thinke  on  without  sighes  ?  What  greater 
dishonour  could  happen  to  Diana,  or  to  her  Nimphes  shame,  then 
that  there  can  be  any  time  so  idle,  that  shold  make  their  heads  so  20 
addle  ?  Your  chast  harts  my  Nimphes,  should  resemble  the  Onix, 
which  is  hotest  when  it  is  whitest,  and  your  thoughts,  the  more  they 
are  assaulted  with  desires,  the  lesse  they  should  be  affected.  You 
should  thinke  loue  like  Homers  Mp]y,  a  white  leafe  &  a  blacke  roote, 
a  faire  shewe,  and  a  bitter  taste.  [Of  all  Trees  the  Cedar  is  greatest,  25 
and  hath  the  smallest  seedes  :  of  all  affections,  loue  hath  the  greatest 
name,  &  the  least  vertueT]  Shall  it  be  said,  and  shall  Venus  say  it  ? 
nay  shall  it  be  scene,  and  shall  wantons  see  it?  —  that  Diana  the 
goddesse  of  chastity,  whose  thoughts  are  alwaies  answerable  to  her 
vowes,  whose  eyes  neuer  glanced  on  desire,  and  whose  hart  abateth  30 
the  poynt  of  Cupids  arrowes,  shall  haue  her  virgins  to  become  vn- 
chast  in  desires,  immoderate  in  affection,  vntemperate  in  loue,  in 
foolish  loue,  in  base  loue?  Eagles  cast  their  euill  feathers  in  the 
Sunne,  but  you  cast  your  best  desires  vpon  a  shadowe.  The  birdes 
Ibes  lose  their  sweetnesse  when  they  lose  theyr  sights,  and  virgins  all  35 
"theyr  vertues  with  theyr  vnchast  thoughts  ;  vnchast,  Diana  calleth 
that,  that  hath  eyther  any  showe  or  suspicion  of  lightnesse.  O  my 
deere  Nimphes,  if  you  knewe  howe  louing  thoughts  staine  louely 
faces,  you  woulde  bee  as  careful  to  haue  the  one  as  vnspotted;  as  the 
other  beautiful.  40 

Cast  before  your  eyes  the  loues  of  Venus  truls,  their  fortunes,  theyr 
fancies,  their  ends.  What  are  they  els  but  Silenus  pictures  ;  without, 
Lambes  &  Doues,  within,  Apes  and  Owles  ;  who  like  Ixion  imbrace 
clowdes  for  luno,  the  shadowes  of  vertue  in  steede  of  the  substance. 
The  Eagles  fethers  consume  the  fethers  of  all  others,  and  loues  desire  45 
corrupteth  all  other  vertues.  I  blush  Ladies  that  you  hauing  beene 
heretofore  patient  of  labours,  should  nowe  become  prentises  to  idle- 
nesse,  and  vse  the  penne  for  Sonets,  not  the  needle  for  Samplers. 
And  howe  is  your  loue  placed?  vppon  pelting  boyes,  perhaps  base 
of  birth,  without  doubt  weake  of  discretion.  I  but  they  are  fayre.  50 
O  Ladies,  doe  your  eyes  begin  to  loue  collours,  whose  harts  were 

34  birds'/1.         42  pictures,  Q  Bl.        43  with  in  Q        51  were]  was  Q 


sc.  iv]  GALLATHEA  455 

wont  to  loath  them  ?  is  Dianaes  Chase  become  Venus  Courte  ?  and 

are  your  holy  vowes  turnd  to  hollow  thoughts  ? 

Ramia.    Madame,  if  loue  were  not  a  thing  beyonde  reason,  we 
55  might  then  giue  a  reason  of  our  doings,  but  so  deuine  is  his  force, 

that  it  worketh  effects  as  contrarie  to  that  wee  wishe,  as  vnreasonable 

against  that  wee  ought. 

Eurota.    Lady,  so  vnacquainted  are  the  passions  of  loue,  that  we 

can  neither  describe  them  nor  beare  them. 
60      Diana.    Foolish  gyrles,  how  willing  you  are  to  follow  that  which 

you  should  flie  !     But  heere  commeth  Telusa. 

(Re-)Enter  TELUSA  and  other  with  CUPID. 
Tel.   We  have  brought  the  disguised  Nimphe,  &  haue  found  on 
his  shoulder  Psiches  burne,  and  he  confesseth  himselfe  to  be  Cupid. 
Diana.    Howe  now  sir,  are  you  caught  ?  are  you  Cupid  ? 

65  Cupid.  Thou  shalt  see  Diana  that  I  dare  confesse  my  selfe  to  be 
Cupid. 

Diana.  And  thou  shalt  see  Cupid  that  I  will  shewe  my  selfe  to 
be  Diana,  that  is,  Conquerer  of  thy  loose  &  vntamed  appetites. 
Did  thy  mother  Venus  vnder  the  colour  of  a  Nimphe,  sende  thee 

70  hether  to  wounde  my  Nimphes  ?  Doth  she  adde  craft  to  her 
malice,  and  mistrusting  her  deitie,  practise  deceite :  is  there  no  place 
but  my  Groues,  no  persons  but  my  Nimphes  ?  Cruell  and  vnkind 
Venus,  that  spighteth  onely  chastitie,  thou  shalt  see  that  Dianaes 
power  shal  reuenge  thy  pollicie,  and  tame  thys  pride.  As  for  thee 

75  Cupid,  I  will  breake  thy  bowe,  and  burne  thine  arrowes,  binde  thy 
handes,  clyp  thy  wings,  and  fetter  thy  feete.  Thou  that  fattest  others 
with  hopes,  shalt  be  fedde  thy  selfe  with  wishes  ;  &  thou  that  bindest 
others  with  golden  thoughts,  shalt  be  bound  thy  selfe  with  golden 
fetters :  Venus  rods  are  made  of  Roses,  Dianaes  of  Bryers.  Let 

80  Venus  that  great  Goddesse,  raunsome  Cupid  that  little  God.  These 
Ladies  heere  whom  thou  hast  infected  with  foolish  loue,  shall  both 
tread  on  thee  and  triumph  ouer  thee.  Thine  owne  arrow  shall  be 
shot  into  thine  owne  bosome,  and  thou  shalt  be  inamored,  not  on 
Psiches,  but  on  Circes.  I  will  teach  thee  what  it  is  to  displease 

85  Diana,  distresse  her  Nimphes,  or  disturbe  her  Game. 

Cupid.  Diana,  what  I  haue  doone,  cannot  be  vndone,  but  what 
you  meane  to  doe,  shall.  Venus  hath  some  Gods  to  her  friends, 
Cupid  shall  haue  all. 

58  Eurota]  Larissa  all  eds.,  but  she  was  sent  to  help  Telusa,  /.  15.  s.  D.  and 

other  Q  BL  F.,  i.e.  Larissa  84  Psiche's  but  on  Circe's  F.t  cf.  p.  404 


456  GALLATHEA  [ACT  in,  sc.  iv 

Diana.  Are  you  prating  ?  I  will  bridle  thy  tongue  &  thy  power, 
and  in  spight  of  mine  owne  thoughts,  I  will  sette  thee  a  taske  euery  90 
day,  which  if  thou  finish  not,  thou  shalt  feele  the  smart.  Thou  shalt 
be  vsed  as  Dianaes  slaue,  not  Venus  sonne.  All  the  worlde  shall 
see  that  I  will  vse  thee  like  a  captiue,  and  shew  my  selfe  a  Conquerer. 
Come  haue  him  in,  that  wee  may  deuise  apt  punishments  for  his 
proude  presumptions.  95 

Eurota.   We  will  plague  yee  for  a  little  God. 

Tel.   We  wyll  neuer  pittie  thee  though  thou  be  a  God. 

Ramia.    Nor  I. 

Larissa.    Nor  I.  Exeunt. 


ACTUS   QUARTUS 

SC^ENA  PRIMA. 

(Enter)  Augur,  MELLEBEUS,  TYTERUS,  Populus. 

Augur.  'T^His  is  the  day  wherein  you  must  satis-fie  Neptune  and 
saue  your  selues ;  call  together  your  fayre  Daughters, 
and  for  a  Sacrifice  take  the  fayrest ;  for  better  it  is  to  offer  a  Virgine 
then  suffer  ruine.  If  you  think  it  against  nature  to  sacrifice  your 
children,  thinke  it  also  against  sence  to  destroy  your  Countrey.  If  5 
you  imagine  Neptune  pittilesse  to  desire  such  a  pray,  confesse  your 
selues  peruerse  to  deserue  such  a  punishment.  You  see  this  tree, 
this  fatall  Tree,  whose  leaues  though  they  glister  like  golde,  yet  it 
threatneth  to  fayre  virgins  griefe.  To  this  Tree  must  the  beauti- 
fullest  be  bounde  vntill  the  Monster  Agar  carry  her  awaie,  and  if  the  10 
Monster  come  not,  then  assure  your  selues  that  the  fairest  is  con 
cealed,  and  then  your  countrey  shall  be  destroyed ;  therefore  consult 
with  your  selues,  not  as  fathers  of  children,  but  as  fauourers  of  your 
Countrey.  Let  Neptune  haue  his  right  if  you  will  haue  your  quiet ; 
thus  haue  I  warned  you  to  be  carefull,  and  would  wish  you  to  be  15 
wise,  knowing  that  who  so  hath  the  fairest  daughter,  hath  the  greatest 
fortune,  in  loosing  one  to  saue  all ;  and  so  I  depart  to  prouide  cere 
monies  for  the  Sacrifice,  and  commaund  you  to  bring  the  Sacrifice. 

Exit  Augur. 

Meleb.    They  say  Tyterus  that  you  haue  a  faire  daughter :  if  it  be 
so,  dissemble  not,  for  you  shall  be  a  fortunate  father.    St  is  a  thing  20 
holy  to  preserue  ones  Country,  and  honorable  to  be  the  causeT) 


ACT  iv,  sc.  i]  GALLATHEA  457 

Tyte.  In  deede  Mekbeus  I  haue  heard  you  boast  that  you  had 
a  faire  daughter,  then  the  which  none  was  more  beautiful.  ]T  hope 
you  are  not  so  careful  of  a  child,  that  you  will  be  carelesse  of  your 

25  Countrey,  or  adde  so  much  to  nature,  that  you  will  detract  from 
wisedomJTl-  <$<o^^ 

Meleb.  I  must  confesse  that  I  had  a  daughter,  and  I  knowe  you 
haue ;  but  alas !  my  Childes  cradle  was  her  graue,  and  her  swath- 
clowte  her  winding  sheete.  I  would  she  had  liued  til  now,  she 

30  should  willingly  haue  died  now ;  for  what  could  haue  happened  to 
pore  Melebeus  more  comfortable,  then  to  bee  the  father  of  a  fayre 
child,  and  sweet  Countrey. 

Tyte.  O  Mellebeus,  dissemble  you  may  with  me,  deceiue  the  Gods 
you  cannot :  \dyd  not  I  see,  (and  very  lately  see)  your  daughter  in 

35  your  armes,   when   as  you  gaue  her  infinite  kisses,   with   affection  ~ 
I  feare  mee  morejhen  fatherly  F]  You  haue  conueyed  her  away,  that 
you  might  cast  vs  all  away ;  bereauing  her  the  honour  of  her  beauty, 
and   vs  the  benefite,  [preferring  a   common   inconuenience,  before 
a  priuate  mischiefej  —    ft\>JO^C  cJ**-^ 

40  Meleb.  It  is  a  bad  cloth  Tyterus  that  will  take  no  colour,  and 
a  simple  Father  that  can  vse  no  cunning :  you  make  the  people 
beleeue  that  you  wish  well,  when  you  practise  nothing  but  ill ;  wish 
ing  to  be  thought  religious  towards  the  Gods,  when  I  knowe  you 
deceitful  towards  men.  You  cannot  ouer-reach  me  Tyterus,  ouer- 

45  shoote  your  selfe  you  may.  It  is  a  wilie  Mouse  that  will  breede  in 
the  Cats  eare,  and  hee  must  halt  cunninglie,  that  will  deceiue 
a  Cripple.  Did  you  euer  see  me  kisse  my  Daughter?  you  are 
deceiued,  it  was  my  wife.  And  if  you  thought  so  young  a  peece 
vnfit  for  so  old  a  person,  and  therefore  imagined  it  to  be  my  childe, 

50  not  my  spouse,  you  must  knowe  that  siluer  haires  delight  in  golden 
lockes,  and  the  olde  fancies  craue  young  Nurses,  and  frostie  yeeres 
must  bee  thawed  by  youthfull  fyers.  But  this  matter  set  aside, 
you  haue  a  faire  daughter  Tyterus,  and  it  is  pittie  you  are  so  fond 
a  Father. 

55  Popu.  You  are  bothe  eyther  too  fonde  or  too  froward :  for 
whilst  you  dispute  to  saue  your  Daughters,  we  neglect  to  preuent 
our  destruction. 

Alter.  Come  let  vs  away  and  seeke  out  a  sacrifice.  Wee  must 
sift  out  their  cunning,  and  let  them  shift  for  themselues.  Exeunt. 

30  should]  would  F.  58  Alter  Q :   Alt.  Bl.  F.,  meaning  a  second  repre 

sentative  of  the  Populus 


458  GALLATHEA  [ACTIV 

SoffiNA  SECUNDA. 

CUPID,  TELUSA,  EUROTA,  LARISSA,  (KAMI A)  enter  singing. 

Tel.    r\  Yes,  O  yes,  if  any  Maid, 

^     Who  lering  Cupid  has  betraid 

To  frownes  of  spite,  to  eyes  of  scorne, 

And  would  in  madnes  now  see  torne 

The  Boy  in  Pieces,— 
All  3.  Let  her  come  5 

Hither,  and  lay  on  him  her  doome. 

Eurota.    O  yes,  O  yes,  has  any  lost 

A  Heart,  which  many  a  sigh  hath  cost  j'XNy^' 
Is  any  cozened  of  ateare, 

Which  l(as  a  Pearle)  /disdaine  does  weare  ?  I0 

All  3.  Here  stands  the  TFfiefe,  let  her  but  come 
Hither,  and  lay  on  him  her  doome. 

Larissa.    Is  any  one  vndone  by  fire, 

And  Turn'd  to  ashes  through  desire? 

Did  euer  any  Lady  weepe,  15 

Being  cheated  of  her  golden  sleepe, 

Stolne  by  sicke  thoughts? 
All  3.  The  pirats  found, 

And  in  her  teares  hee  shalbe  drownd. 

Reade  his  Inditement,  let  him  heare 

What  hees  to  trust  to:    Boy,  giue  eare !  20 

Tel.  Come  Cupid  to  your  taske.  First  you  must  vndoe  all  these 
Louers  knots,  because  you  tyed  them. 

Cupid.  If  they  be  true  loue  knots,  tis  vnpossible  -to  vnknit  them  ; 
if  false,  I  neuer  tied  them. 

Eurota.    Make  no  excuse,  but  to  it.  25 

Cupid.  Loue  knots  are  tyde  with  eyes,  and  cannot  be  vndoone 
with  hands ;  made  fast  with  thoughts,  and  cannot  be  vnlosed  with 
fingers  :  had  Diana  no  taske  to  set  Cupid  to  but  things  impossible  ? 
{  They  threaten  him. )  I  wil  to  it. 

Ramia.    Why  how  now  ?  you  tie  the  knots  faster.  3° 

Cupid.  I  cannot  chuse,  it  goeth  against  my  mind  to  make  them 
loose. 

Eurota.    Let  me  see,  nowe  tis  vnpossible  to  be  vndoone. 

s.  D.  CUPID  .  .  .  singing   Q  BL  F.  1-20  Tel.   O  yes  ...  Boy,  giue  eare ! 

om.  Q,  though  giving  stage-direction          5  All  3  here  and  below,  I.  17,  B I.  prints 
this  at  the  beginning  of  the  line.     Corrected  by  F.  21  Cupid]  Sirra  Bl,  F. 


sc.  n]  GALLATHEA  459 

Cupid.    It  is  the  true  loue  knotte  of  a  womans  hart,  therefore 
35  cannot  be  vndoone. 

Ramia.    That  fals  in  sunder  of  it  selfe. 

Cupid.  It  was  made  of  a  mans  thought,  which  will  neuer  hang 
together. 

Larissa.    You  have  vndoone  that  well. 
40      Cupid.    I,  because  it  was  neuer  tide  well. 

Tel.  To  the  rest,  for  shee  will  giue'you  no  rest.  These  two  knots 
are  finely  vntide. 

Cupid.    It  was  because  I  neuer  tide  them ;  the  one  was  knit  by 
Pluto,  not  Cupid,  by  money,  not  loue ;  the  other  by  force,  not  faith, 
45  by  appointment,  not  affection. 

Ramia.    Why  doe  you  lay  that  knot  aside  ? 
Cupid.    For  death. 
Tel.    Why? 

Cupid.    Because  the  knot  was  knit  by  faith,  and  must  onely  be 
50  vnknit  of  death. 

Eurota.    Why  laugh  you  ? 

Cupid.    Because   it   is   the   fairest   and   the   falsest,    doone   with 
greatest    arte    and    least    trueth,   with    best    collours,    and    worst 
conceits. 
55      Tel.    Who  tide  it? 

Cupid.    A  mans  tongue. 

Larissa.    Why  doe  you  put  that  in  my  bosome? 
Cupid.    Because  it  is  onely  for  a  Womans  bosome. 
Larissa.    Why  what  is  it  ? 
60      Cupid.    A  womans  hart. 

Tel.  Come  let  vs  goe  in,  and  tell  that  Cupid  hath  doone  his 
taske;  stay  you  behind  Larissa,  and  see  hee  sleepe  not,  for  Loue 
will  be  idle ;  and  take  heede  you  surfette  not,  for  loue  will  be  wanton. 

Exit  TELUSA,  {RAMIA,  EUROTA). 

Larissa.    Let  me  alone,  I  wil  find  him  some-what  to  do. 
65       Cupid.    Lady,  can  you  for  pittie  see  Cupid  thus  punished  ? 
Larissa.    Why  did  Cupid  punish  vs  without  pittie  ? 
Cupid.    Is  loue  a  punishment  ? 
Larissa.    It  is  no  pastime. 
Cupid.    O  Venus,  if  thou  sawest  Cupid  as  a  captiue,  bound  to  obey 

S.  D.  [Ramia,  Eurota]  om.  old  eds.  F.,  but  the  context  implies  that  Larissa  is  left 
alone  with  Cupid,  and  Ramia 's  next  speech  shoivs  her  to  have  just  come  from 
Diana 


460  GALLATHEA  [ACT  iv 

that  was  wont  to  commaunde,  fearing  Ladies  threates,  that  once  70 
pearced  their  harts,  I  cannot  tell  whether  thou  wouldest  reuenge  it 
for  despight,  or  laugh  at  it  for  disport.     The  time  may  come  Diana, 
and  the  time  shall  come,  that   thou   that   settest  Cupid  to  vndoe 
knots,  shalt  intreate  Cupid  to  tye  knots,  and  you  Ladies  that  with 
solace   haue   behelde    my   paines,    shall    with    sighes    intreate   my  75 
pittie.  '<£>  T* 

Hee  offer eth  to  sleep e. 

Larissa.    How  now  Cupid,  begin  you  to  nod? 


{Re-enter  RAMIA 

^ 
Ramia.    Come  Cupid,  Diana  hath  deuised  newe  labours  for  you 

that  are  God  of  loues  :  you  shall  weaue  Samplers  all  night,  and 
lackie  after  Diana  all  day.  You  shall  shortlie  shoote  at  beastes  for  So 
men,  because  you  haue  made  beastes  of  men,  &  waight  on  Ladies 
traines,  because  thou  intrappest  Ladies  by  traines.  All  the  stories 
that  are  in  Dianaes  Arras,  which  are  of  loue,  you  must  picke  out 
with  your  needle,  &  in  that  place  sowe  Vesta  with  her  Nuns,  and 
Diana  with  her  Nimphes.  How  like  you  this  Cupid?  85 

Cupid.    I  say  I  will  pricke  as  well  with  my  needle,  as  euer  I  d^ 
with  mine  arrowes. 

Tel.    Diana  cannot  yeelde,  she  conquers  affection.  V 

Cupid.    Diana  shall  yeeld,  she  cannot  conquer  destenyf 
Larissa.    Come  Cupid,  you  must  to  your  busines.  90 

Cupid.    You  shall  find  me  so  busie  in  your  heads,  that  you  shall 
wish  I  had  beene  idle  with  your  harts.  Exeunt. 

SCHEMA  TERTIA. 

{Enter)  NEPTUNE  alone. 

Neptune.  Thys  day  is  the  solemne  Sacrifice  at  thys  Tree,  wherein 
the  fairest  virgine  (were  not  the  inhabitants  faithlesse)  should  be 
offered  vnto  mejbut  so  ouer  carefull  are  Fathers  to  their  children, 
y&~^  that  they  forgette  the  safetie  of  their  Countrey,  &  fearing  to  become 
vnnaturall,  become  vnreasonable :  their  slights  may  bleere  men,  5 
deceiue  me  they  cannot ;  I  wil  be  here  at  the  houre,  and  shew  as 
great  crueltie  as  they  haue  doone  craft,  &  well  shall  they  know  that 
Neptune  should  haue  beene  intreated,  not  cosenedLj  Exit. 

84  sow  Bl.  F.  L  e.  sew  s.  D.  Exeunt  om.  Bl.  F. 


sc.  iv]  GALLATHEA  461 

SCVENA   QUARTA. 

Enter  GALLATHEA  and  PHILLIDA. 

Phil.  I  maruell  what  virgine  the  people  will  present,  it  is  happy 
you  are  none,  for  the"  it  would  haue  falne  to  your  lot  because  you  are 
so  faire. 

Galla.    If  you   had  beene  a  Maiden  too  I  neede  not   to  haue 
5  feared,  because  you  are  fairer. 

Phil.  I  pray  thee  sweete  boy  flatter  not  me,  speake  trueth  of  thy 
selfe,  for  in  mine  eye  of  all  the  world  thou  art  fayrest. 

Galla.    These  be  faire  words,  but  farre  from  thy  true  thoughts, 
I  know  mine  owne  face  in  a  true  Glasse,  and  desire  not  to  see  it  in 
10  a  flattering  mouth. 

Phil.  O  would  I  did  flatter  thee,  and  that  fortune  would  not 
flatter  me.  I  loue  thee  as  a  brother,  but  loue  not  me  so. 

Galla.  Noe  I  will  not,  but  loue  thee  better,  because  I  cannot  loue 
as  a  brother. 

15  Phil.  Seeing  we  are  both  boyes,  and  •  both  louers,  that  our 
affection  may  haue  some  showe,  and  seeme  as  it  were  loue,  let  me 
call  thee  Mistris. 

Galla.    I   accept   that   name,    for   diuers   before   haue    cald    me 
Mistris. 
20      Phil    For  what  cause  ? 

Galla.    Nay  there  lie  the  Mistrisse. 
Phil.    Wyll  not  you  be  at  the  sacrifice  ? 
Galla.   Noe. 
Phil    Why? 

25  Galla.  Because  I  dreamt  that  if  I  were  there,  I  shold  be  turned 
to  a  virgine,  and  then  being  so  faire  (as  thou  saist  I  am)  I  shoulde 
be  offered  as  thou  knowest  one  must.  But  will  not  you  be  there  ? 

Phil.    Not  vnlesse  I  were  sure  that  a  boy  might  be  sacrificed,  and 
not  a  mayden. 
30      Galla.    Why  then  you  are  in  danger. 

Phil.  But  I  would  escape  it  by  deceite :  but  seeing  we  are 
resolued  to  be  both  absent,  let  vs  wander  into  these  Groues,  till  the 
howre  be  past. 

Galla.    I  am  agreed,  for  then  my  feare  wil  be  past. 
35      Phil.    Why,  what  doost  thou  feare  ? 

Galla.    Nothing  but  that  you  loue  me  not.  Exit. 

i  pre-present  Q  27  I  before  must  Bl.,  slipped  down  from  bef.  shoulde 


462  GALLATHEA  [ACT  iv,  sc.  iv 

Phil.  I  will.  Poore  Phillida,  what  shouldest  thou  thinke  of  thy 
selfe,  that  louest  one  that  I  feare  mee,  is  as  thy  selfe  is :  and  may  it 
not  be,  that  her  Father  practized  the  same  deceite  with  her,  that  my 
Father  hath  with  me,  and  knowing  her  to  be  fayre,  feared  she  shold  4° 
be  vnfortunate  ?  if  it  be  so,  Phillida  how  desperate  is  thy  case  ?  if  it 
be  not,  howe  doubtfull  ?  For  if  she  be  a  Mayden  there  is  no  hope 
of  my  loue ;  if  a  boy,  a  hazarde  :  I  will  after  him  or  her,  and  leade 
a  melancholic  life,  that  looke  for  a  miserable  death.  Exit 


ACTUS   QUINTUS 

SCLENA  PRIMA. 

Enter  RAFE  alone. 

•R<*ffe*    "M"  O  more  Maisters  now,  but  a  Mistrisse  if  I  can  light  on 


her.  An  -Astronomer?  of  all  occupations  thats  the 
worst  ;  yet  well  fare  the  Alcumist,  for  he  keepes  good  fires  though 
he  gets  no  golde  ;  the  other  standes  warming  himselfe  by  staring  on 
the  starres,  which  I  think  he  can  as  soone  number  as  know  their  5 
vertues.  He  told  me  a  long  tale  of  Octogessimus  octauus,  and  the 
meeting  of  the  Coniunctions  &  Planets,  and  in  the  meane-time  he 
fell  backwarde  himselfe  into  a  ponde.  I  askt  him  why  he  fore-saw  e 
not  that  by  the  starres,  he  said  hee  knewe  it,  but  contemnd  it.  But 
soft,  is  not  this  my  brother  Robin  ?  10 

Enter  ROBIN. 

Robin.    Yes  as  sure  as  thou  art  Rafe. 

Raffe.    What  Robin  ?  what  newes  ?  what  fortune  ? 

Robin.  Faith  I  haue  had  but  badde  fortune,  but  I  prie-thee  tell 
me  thine. 

Raffe.    I  have  had  two  Maisters,  not  by  arte  but  by  nature  ;  one  15 
sayd,  that  by  multiplying  he  woulde  make  of  a  penny  tenne  pound. 

Robin.    I  but  coulde  he  doe  it  ? 

Raffe.  Could  he  doe  it  quoth  you?  why  man,  I  sawe  a  prettie 
wench  come  to  his  shoppe,  where  with  puffing,  blowing,  and  sweating, 
he  so  plyed  her,  that  hee  multiply  ed  her.  2<? 

Robin.    Howe  ? 

7  in  Q  only  9  he  said  Q  only 


ACT  v,  sc.  i]  GALLATHEA  463 

Raffe.    Why  he  made  her  of  one,  two. 
Robin.    What  by  fire  ? 
Raffe.    No,  by  the  Philosophers  stone. 
25      Robin.    Why,  haue  Philosophers  such  stones? 
Raffe.    I,  but  they  lie  in  a  priuie  cupboord. 

Robin.    Why   then   thou    art    rich    if   thou    haue    learned    this 
cunning. 

Raffe.    Tush !    this   was  nothing !   hee  would,  of  a  little  fasting 
3°  spittle,  make  a  hose  &  dublet  of  cloth  of  siluer. 

Robin.    Would  I  had  beene  with  him  !  for  I  haue  had  almost  no 
meate  but  spittle  since  I  came  to  the  woods. 
Raffe.    How  then  didst  thou  Hue  ? 

Robin.    Why  man  I  serued  a  fortune-teller,  who  saide  I  should 
35  Hue  to  see   my  Father  hangd,  and  both  my  brothers  beg.      So  I 
conclude  the  Mill  shall  be  mine,  and  I  Hue  by  imagination  still. 

Raffe.    Thy  Maister  was  an  Asse,  and  lookt  on  the  lines  of  thy 
hands ;  but  my  other  Maister  was  an  Astronomer,  which  could  picke 
my  natiuitie  out  of  the  stars.     I  shoulde  haue  halfe  a  dozen  starres 
40  in   my  pocket  if  I  haue  not  lost  them,  but  heere  they  be.     Sol, 
Saturne,  lupiter.  Mars,  Venus. 
Robin.    Why  these  be  but  names. 

Raffe.    I,  but  by  these  he  gathereth,  that  I  was  a  loualist,  borne 
of  a  Thursday,  &  that  I  should  be  a  braue  Venerian,  and  gette  all  my 
45  good  lucke  on  a  Fry  day. 

Robin.    Tis  strange  that  a  fishe  day  should  be  a  flesh-day. 
Raffe.   O  Robin,  Venus  orta  mart,  Venus  was  borne  of  the  Sea,  the 
Sea  will  haue  fishe,  fishe  must  haue  wine,  wine  will  haue  flesh,  for 
Caro  carnis  genus  est  muliebre  :  but  soft,  heere  commeth  that  notable 
50  villaine,  that  once  preferd  me  to  the  Alcumist. 

Enter  PETER. 

Peter.    So   I   had   a   Maister,    I  would   not   care   what   became 
of  me. 

Raffe   {aside).    Robin   thou   shalt   see   me   fitte   him. — {Aloud) 
So  I  had  a  seruaunt,  I  care  neither  for  his  conditions,  his  qualities, 
55  nor  his  person. 

Peter.    What  Rafel  well   mette.     No  doubt   you  had  a  warme 
seruice  of  my  Maister  the  Alcumist  ? 

Raffe.   Twas  warme  indeede,  for  the  fire  had  almost  burnt  out 
25  philosopher's  F.         33  then  om.  F.        43  gathered  F.         54  qualilities  Q 


464  GALLATHEA  [ACT  v 

mine  eyes,  and  yet  my  teeth  still  watred  with  hungar :  so  that  my 
seruice  was  both  too  whote  &  too  cold.     I  melted  all  my  meate,  and  60 
made  onely  my  slumber  thoughts,  and  so  had  a  full  head  and  an 
empty  bellie.     But  where  hast  thou  beene  since? 

Peter.  With  a  brother  of  thine  I  thinke,  for  hee  hath  such  a  coate, 
and  two  brothers  (as  hee  saith)  seeking  of  fortunes. 

Robin.    Tys  my  brother  Dtcke,  I  prie-thee  lets  goe  to  him.  65 

Raffe.    Syrra,  what  was  he  dooing  that  hee  came  not  with  thee  ? 

Peter.  Hee  hath  gotten  a  Maister  nowe,  that  will  teach  him  to 
make  you  both  his  younger  brothers. 

Raffe.  I,  thou  passest  for  deuising  impossibilities  :  thats  as  true  as 
thy  Maister  could  make  siluer  pottes  of  tagges  of  poynts.  7° 

Peter.  Nay  he  will  teach  him  to  cozen  you  both,  &  so  gette  the 
Mill  to  himselfe. 

Raffe.  Nay  if  he  be  both  our  cozens,  I  will  bee  hys  great  Grand- 
-father,  and  Robin  shall  be  his  Vncle ;  but  I  pray  thee  bring  vs  to  him 
quickly,  for  I  am  great  bellied  with  conceite  till  I  see  him.  75 

Peter.  Come  then  and  goe  with  me,  and  I  will  bring  ye  to  him 
straight.  Exeunt. 

SC^NA  SECUNDA. 

{Enter)  Augur,  ERICTHINIS. 

Augur.  Bring  forth  the  virgine,  the  fatall  virgin,  the  fairest 
virgine,  if  you  meane  to  appease  Neptune,  and  preserue  your 
Countrey. 

Erict.    Heere   shee    commeth,    accompanied    onelie   with   men, 
because  it  is  a  sight  vnseemely  (as  all  virgins  say)  to  see  the  mis-  5 
-fortune  of  a  mayden,  and  terrible  to  behold  the  fiercenes  of  Agar 
that  Monster. 

Enter  H^EBE,  with  other  to  the  sacrifice. 

Hcebe.  Myserable  and  accursed  Hcebe,  that  beeing  neither  faire 
nor  fortunate,  thou  shouldest  be  thought  most  happy  and  beautifull. 
Curse  thy  birth,  thy  lyfe,  thy  death,  beeing  borne  to  Hue  in  danger,  10 
and  hauing  liude,  to  die  by  deceit.  Art  thou  the  sacrifice  to  appease 
Neptune,  and  satis-fie  the  cusio.me,  the  bloodie  custom,  ordained  for 
the  safetie  of  thy  Country  ?  \\Hcebe,  poore  Hcebe,  men  will  haue  it 
so,  whose  forces  commaund  our  weake  natures ;  nay  the  Gods  wil 

66  that]  when  F.  69  passeth  F.  7  that]  the  F. 


sc.  n]  GALLATHEA  465 

15  haue  it  so,  whose  powers  dally  with  our  purposesj  The  Egiptians 
neuer  cut  their  Dates  from  the  tree,  because  they  are  so  fresh  and 
greene.  It  is  thought  wickednes  to  pul  Roses  from  the  stalkes  in 
the  Garden  of  Palestine,  for  that  they  haue  so  liuelie  a  redde :  and 
who  so  cutteth  the  incense  Tree  in  Arabia  before  it  fal,  committeth 

20  sacriledge. 

Shall  it  onely  be  lawfull  amongst  vs  in  the  prime  of  youth,  and 
pride  of  beautie,  to  destroy  both  youth  and  beautie :  and  what  was 
honoured  in  fruites  and  flowres  as  a  vertue,  to  violate  in  a  virgine 
as  a  vice  ?  But,  alas !  destenie  alloweth  no  dispute ;  die  Habe, 

25  Habe  die  !  wofull  Habe  \  and  onely  accursed  Habe  \  Farewell  the 
sweete  delights  of  life,  and  welcome  nowe  the  bitter  pangs  of  death. 
Fare-well  you  chast  virgins,  whose  thoughts  are  diuine,  whose  faces 
faire,  whose  fortunes  are  agreeable  to  your  affections,  enioy  and  long 
enioy  the  pleasure  of  your  curled  locks,  the  amiablenesse  of  your 

30  wished  lookes,  the  sweetnes  of  your  tuned  voices,  the  content  of 
your  inwarde  thoughts,  the  pompe  of  your  outward  showes :  onely 
Habe  biddeth  farewell  to  all  the  ioyes  that  she  conceiued,  and  you 
hope  for,  that  shee  possessed,  and  you  shall ;  fare-well  the  pompe  of 
Princes  Courts,  whose  roofes  are  imbosst  with  golde,  and  whose 

35  pauements  are  decked  with  faire  Ladies,  where  the  daies  are  spent 
in  sweet  delights,  the  nights  in  pleasant  dreames,  where  chastitie 
honoreth  affections  and  commaundeth,  yeeldeth  to  desire  and  con- 
quejreth.  ^ 

CFare-well  the  Soueraigne  of  all  vertue,  and  Goddesse  of  all  virgins,     ^  ^  x 

40  Diana,  whose  perfections  are  impossible  to  be  numbred,  and  there 
fore  infinite,  neuer_to  he  matrbpr!,  and  therefore  immortall.  |  Fare- 
-well  sweet  Parents,  yet,  to  be  mine,  vnfortunate  Parents  ItHowe 
blessed  had  you  beene  in  barrennes7[  how  happy  had  I  been,  if 
I  had  not  beene !  Fare-well  life,  vaine  life,  wretched  life,  whose 

45  sorrowes  are  long,  whose  ende  doubtfull,  whose  miseries  certaine, 
whose  hopes  innumerable,  whose  feares  intolerable.  Come  death, 
and  welcome  death  whom  nature  cannot  resist,  because  necessity 
ruleth,  nor  deferre  because  destenie  hasteth.  Come  Agar  thou 
vnsatiable  Monster  of  Maidens  blood,  &  deuourer  of  beauties  bowels, 

5o  glut  thy  selfe  till  thou  surfet,  &  let  my  life  end  thine.  Teare  these 
tender  ioynts  wyth  thy  greedie  iawes,  these  yellow  lockes  with  thy 
black  feete,  this  faire  face  with  thy  foule  teeth.  Why  abatest  thou 

42  yet  to  all  eds.  49  douourer  Q 

BOND  n  H  h 


466  .GALLATHEA  [ACTV 

thy  wonted  swiftnesse  ?  I  am  faire,  I  am  a  virgine,  I  am  readie. 
Come  Agar  thou  horrible  monster,  &  farewell  world  thou  viler 
Monster.  5  5 

(During  the  above  speech  H/EBE  has  been  bound  to  the  sacrificial  tree. 
A  pause  follows. ) 

Augur.  The  Monster  is  not  come,  and  therefore  I  see  Neptune  is 
abused,  whose  rage  will  I  feare  mee,  be  both  infinite  and  intolerable : 
take  in  this  Virgine,  whose  want  of  beauty  hath  saued  her  owne  life, 
and  (destroyed)  all  yours. 

Erict.    We  could  not  finde  any  fairer.  60 

(H^BE  is  unbound.) 

Augur.    Neptune  will.     Goe  deliuer  her  to  her  father. 

Hcebe.  Fortunate  H<zbey  howe  shalt  thou  expresse  thy  ioyes  ?  Nay 
vnhappy  girle  that  art  not  the  fairest.  Had  it  not  been  better  for 
thee  to  haue  died  with  fame,  then  to  Hue  with  dishonour,  to  haue 
preferred  the  safetie  of  thy  Countrey  and  rarenesse  of  thy  beautie,  65 
before  sweetnes  of  life,  &  vanity  of  the  world  ?  But  alas  !  desteny 
would  not  haue  it  so,  desteny  coulde  not,  for  it  asketh  the  beauti- 
fullest.  I  would  Hcebe  thou  hadst  been  beautifullest. 

Erict.  Come  H&be,  heere  is  no  time  for  vs  to  reason,  it  had  beene 
best  for  vs  thou  hadst  beene  most  beautiful!.  Exeunt.  70 


TERTIA. 
(Enter)  PHILLIDA,  GALLATHEA. 

Phil.  We  mette  the  virgine  that  shoulde  haue  beene  offered  to 
Neptune^  belike  eyther  the  custome  is  pardoned,  or  she  not  thought 
fairest. 

Galla.    I  cannot  coniecture  the  cause,  but  I  feare  the  euent. 

Phil.    Why  should  you  feare  ?  the  God  requireth  no  boy.  5 

Galla.    I  would  he  did,  then  should  I  haue  no  feare. 

Phil.  I  am  glad  he  doth  not  tho,  because  if  he  did,  I  should  haue 
also  cause  to  feare.  But  soft,  what  man  or  God  is  this  ?  Let  vs 
closely  withdrawe  our  selues  into  the  Thickets.  Exeunt  ambo. 

Enter  NEPTUNE  alone. 

Nept.    And  doe  men  beginne  to  bee  equall  with  Gods,  seeking  by  10 
craft  toouer-reach  the  that  by  power  ouer-see  them?  r5oe  they  dote 

59  destroyed  om.  all  cds.  7  tho  Q  Bl.  =  then  :  tho1  F. 


sc.  in]  GALLATHEA  467 

so  much  on  their  daughters,  that  they  stick  not  to  dallie  with  our 
deities?  well  shall  the  inhabitants  see,  that  destinie  cannot  be 
preuented  by  craft,  nor  my  anger  be  appeased  by  submission?")  I  will 
15  make  hauocke  of  Dianaes  Nimphes,  my  Temple  shall  bee  died  with 
Maydens  blood,  and  there  shal  be  nothing  more  vile  then  to  be 
a  Virgine.  To  be  young  and  fay  re,  shall  be  accounted  shame 
&  punishment,  in  so  much  as  it  shall  be  thought  as  dishonorable  to 
be  honest,  as  fortunate  to  be  deformed. 

(Rages  about  the  stage.) 

Enter  DIANA  with  her  Nimphes. 

20  Diana.  O  Neptune ',  hast  thou  forgotten  thy  selfe  or  wilt  thou 
cleane  for-sake  mee  ?  Hath  Diana  therfore  brought  danger  to  her 
Nimphes,  because  they  be  chast  ?  shal  vertue  suffer  both  paine  and 
shame,  which  alwaies  deserueth  praise  and  honor  ? 

Enter  VENUS. 

Venus.    Prayse  and  honour  (Neptune]  ?  nothing  lesse  !  except  it  be 

25  commendable  to  be  coy,  and  honorable  to  be  peeuish.  Sweet 
Neptune,  if  Venus  can  do  any  thing,  let  her  try  it  in  this  one  thing, 
that  Diana  may  finde  as  small  comfort  at  thy  hands,  as  Loue  hath 
found  curtesie  at  hers. 

This  is  shee  that  hateth  sweete  delights,  enuieth  louing  desires, 

3o  masketh  wanton  eyes,  stoppeth  amorous  eares,  bridleth  youthfull 
mouthes,  and  vilder  a  name,  or  a  worde  constancie,  entertaineth  all 
kinde  of  crueltie  :  shee  hath  taken  my  sonne  Cupid,  Cupid  my  louely 
sonne,  vsing  him  like  a  prentise,  whypping  him  like  a  slaue,  scorning 
him  like  a  beast ;  therefore  Neptune  I  intreate  thee  by  no  other  God 

35  then  the  God  of  loue,  that  thou  euill  intreate  this  Goddesse  of  hate. 
Nept.    I  muse  not  a  little  to  see  you  two  in  this  place,  at  this  time, 
and  about  this  matter;  but  what  say  you  Diana,  haue  you  Cupid 
captiue  ? 

Diana.    I  say  there  is  nothing  more  vaine,  then  to  dispute  with 

40  VenuS)  whose  vntamed  affections  haue  bred  more  brawles  in  heauen, 
then  is  fitte  to  repeate  in  earth,  or  possible  to  recount  in  number. 
I  haue  Cupid,  and  will  keepe  him ;  not  to  dandle  in  my  lappe, 
whom  I  abhor  in  my  hart,  but  to  laugh  him  to  scorne,  that  hath 
made  in  my  virgins  harts  such  deepe  scarres. 

24  (Neptune)  nothing  lesse,  all eds.         44  virgins  (i.e.  virgins')  Q  Bl. :  virgin's/". 

H  h  2 


468  GALLATHEA  [ACT  v 

Venus.   Scarres  Diana  call  you  them  that  I  know  to  be  bleeding  45 
woundes  ?   alas  !   weake  deitie,  it  stretcheth  not  so  farre,  both  to 
abate  the  sharpnesse  of  his  Arrowes  and  to  heale  the  hurts.     No  ! 
Loues   woundes   when    they   seeme   greene,   rankle;    and    hauing 
a  smooth  skinne  without,  fester  to  the  death  within.      Therefore 
Neptune,  if  euer  Venus  stoode  thee  in  steed,  furthered  thy  fancies,  50 
or  shall  at  all  times  be  at  thy  comaund,  let  eyther  Diana  bring 
her   Virgins   to   a   continuall    massacre,    or    release    Cupid  of  his 
martyrdome. 

C        Diana.    It  is  knowne    Venus,  that  your  tongue  is_as  vnrulie  as  _ 
\   your  thoughts  ;  and  your  thoughts  as  vnstaied  as  your  eyes ;  Diana  55 
(   (^TmoTchatter,  Venus  cannot  chuse. 

Venus.  It  is  an  honour  for  Diana  to  haue  Venus  meane  ill,  when 
she  so  speaketh  well ;  but  you  shal  see  I  come  not  to  trifle ;  therefore 
once  againe  Neptune,  if  that  be  not  buried,  which  can  neuer  die, 
fancie,  or  that  quenched  which  must  euer  burne,  affection,  shew  thy  60 
selfe  the  same  Neptune  that  I  knew  thee  to  bee  when  thou  wast 
a  Sheepe-hearde,  and  let  not  Venus  wordes  be  vaine  in  thyne  eares, 
since  thyne  were  imprinted  in  my  hart. 

Nept.    It  were  vnfitte  that  Goddesses  shoulde  striue,  and  it  were 
vnreasonable  that  I  shold  not  yeeld,  and  therefore  to  please  both,  65 
"fcf '  "-  both  attend ;  Diana  I  must  honor,  her  vertue  deserueth  no  lesse ; 
""£       but  Venus  I  must  loue,  I  must  confesse  so  much. 
v   (~         Diana,  restore  Cupid  to    Venus,  and  I  will  for  euer  release  the 
•!s      J  sacrifice  of  Virgins ;    if  therefore  you  loue  your  Nimphes  as  shee 
/  doth  her  Sonne,  or  preferre  not  a  priuate  grudge  before  a  common  7° 
V  griefej  aunswere  what  you  will  doe. 

Diana.  I  account  not  the  choyse  harde,  for  had  I  twentie 
Cupids,  I  woulde  deliuer  them  all  to  saue  one  Virgine ;  knowing 
loue  to  be  a  thing  of  all  the  vainest,  virginitie  to  be  a  vertue  of 
all  the  noblest.  I  yeeld  :  Larissa,  bring  out  Cupid:  (.£".#/? LARISSA.)  75 
and  now  shall  it  be  saide,  that  Cupid  saued  those  he  thought  to 
spoyle. 

Venus.    I   agree  to  this  willinglie  :  for  I  will  be  warie  howe  my 
Sonne  wander  againe.     But  Diana  cannot  forbid  him  to  wounde. 
Diana.    Yes,  chastitie  is  not  within  the  leuell  of  his  bowe.  80 

Venus.    But  beautie  is  a  fayre  marke  to  hit. 

Nept.    Well  I  am  gladde  you  are  agreed :  and  saie  that  Neptune 
hath  delt  well  wyth  Beautie  and  Chastitie. 


sc.  in]  GALLATHEA  469 

{Re-)  Enter  (LARISSA  with)  CUPID. 
Diana.    Heere  take  your  sonne. 

85       Venus.   Syr  boy  where  haue  you  beene?  alwaies  taken,  first  by 
Sapho,  nowe  by  Diana  ;  howe  hapneth  it  you  vnhappie  Elphe  ? 

Cupid.    Comming  through  Dianaes  woodes,  and  seeing  so  manie 
fayre  faces  with  fonde  hearts,  I  thought  for  my  sport  to  make  them 
smart,  and  so  was  taken  by  Diana. 
90       Venus.    I  am  glad  I  haue  you. 

Diana.   And  I  am  gladde  I  am  ridde  of  him. 
Venus.   Alas  poore  boy  !  thy  Winges  clypt  ?  thy  brandes  quencht  ? 
thy  Bowe  burnt  ?  and  thy  Arrowes  broke  ? 

Cupid.    I  but  it  skilleth  not !     I  beare  nowe  myne  Arrowes  in 
95  mine  eyes,  my  Winges  on  my  thoughts,  my  brandes  in  myne  eares, 
my  bowe  in  my  mouth,  so  as  I  can  wounde  with  looking,  flye  with 
thinking,  burne  with  hearing,  shoote  with  speaking. 

Venus.    Well  you  shall  vp  to  heauen  with  mee,  for  on  earth  thou 
wilt  lose  me. 

Enter  TYTERUS,  MELEBEUS  {on  one  side),  GALLATHEA  and 

PHYLLIDA  {on  the  other). 
ioo      Nept.    But  soft,  what  be  these  ? 

Tyte.   Those  that  haue  offended  thee  to  saue  their  daughters. 
Nept.    Why,  had  you  a  faire  daughter  ? 
Tyte.   I,  and  Melebeus  a  faire  daughter. 
Nept.    Where  be  they  ? 

105      Meleb.    In  yonder  Woods,  and  mee  thinkes  I  see  them  comming. 
Nept.    Well,    your   deserts   haue   not   gotten   pardon,    but   these 
Goddesses  iarres. 

Meleb.    Thys  is  my  Daughter,  my  sweete  Phillida. 
Tyte.    And  this  is  my  faire  Gallathea. 
1 10      Galla.    Vnfortunate  Gallathea,  if  this  be  Phillida  \ 
Phil.    Accursed  Phillida,  if  that  be  Gallathea  \ 
Galla.    And  wast  thou  all  this  while  enamoured  of  Phillida,  that 
sweete  Phillida  ? 

Phil.    And  couldest  thou  doate  vpon  the  face  of  a  Maiden,  thy 
115  selfe  beeing  one,  on  the  face  of  fayre  Gallatheat 

Nept.    Doe  you  both  beeing  Maidens  loue  one  another  ? 
Galla.    I  had  thought  the  habite  agreeable  with  the  Sexe,  and  so 
burned  in  the  fire  of  mine  owne  fancies. 

95  mine]  my  F. 


470  GALLATHEA  [ACT  v 

Phil.    I  had  thought  that  in  the  attyre  of  a  boy,  "there  could  not 
haue  lodged  the  body  of  a  Virgine,  &  so  was  inflamed  with  a  sweete  120 
desire,  which  now  I  find  a  sower  deceit. 

Diana.  Nowe  things  falling  out  as  they  doe,  you  must  leaue  these 
fond  fond  affections  ;  nature  will  haue  it  so,  necessitie  must. 

Galla.  I  will  never  loue  any  but  Phillida  :  her  loue  is  engrauen 
in  my  hart,  with  her  eyes.  125 

Phil.  Nor  I  any  but  Gallathea,  whose  faith  is  imprinted  in  my 
thoughts  by  her  words. 

Nept.  An  idle  choyce,  strange,  and  foolish,  for  one  Virgine  to 
doate  on  another;  and  to  imagine  a  constant  faith,  where  there  can 
be  no  cause  of  affection.  Howe  like  you  this  Venus'?  130 

Venus.  I  like  well  and  allowe  it,  they  shall  both  be  possessed  of 
their  wishes,  for  neuer  shall  it  be  said  that  Nature  or  Fortune  shall 
ouer-throwe  Loue  and  Fayth.  Is  your  loues  vnspotted,  begunne 
with  trueth,  continued  wyth  constancie,  and  not  to  bee  altered  tyll 
death?  135 

Galla.    Die  Gallathea,  if  thy  loue  be  not  so  ! 

Phil.    Accursed  bee  thou  Phillida,  if  thy  loue  be  not  so  ! 

Diana.    Suppose  all  this  Venus,  what  then  ? 

Venus.  Then  shall  it  be  seene,  that  I  can  turne  one  of  them  to 
be  a  man,  and  that  I  will.  140 

Diana.    Is  it  possible  ? 

Venus.  What  is  to  Loue  or  the  Mistrisse  of  Loue  vnpossible  ? 
Was  it  not  Venus  that  did  the  like  to  Iphis  and  lantlies  ?  howe  say 
yee  ?  are  ye  agreed  ?  one  to  bee  a  boy  presently  ? 

Phil.    I  am  content,  so  I  may  imbrace  Gallathea.  145 

Galla.    I  wish  it,  so  I  may  enioy  Phillida. 

Meleb.  Soft  Daughter,  you  must  know  whether  I  will  haue  you 
a  Sonne. 

Tyte.  Take  mee  with  you  Galftithea,  I  will  keepe  you  as  I  begatte 
you,  a  Daughter.  150 

Meleb.    Tyterus,  let  yours  be  a  boy  and  if  you  will :  mine  shall  not. 

Tyte.  Nay,  mine  shall  not,  for  by  that  meanes  my  young  sonne 
shall  lose  his  inheritance. 

Meleb.  Why  then  gette  him  to  be  made  a  Maiden  and  then  there 
is  nothing  lost.  n-g 

123  fond  fond  old eds. :  fond  F. ;  but  they  occur  in  the  middle  of  a  line  in  Q  and 
are  probably  right  124  engraved  F.  133  loues]  love  F.  143  lanthes 

so  all,  cf.  pp.  404,  455          151  hoy  and  if  you  will,  Q  (and  if  =  an  if)  :  boy,  and 
if  you  will,  Bl.  F.,  spoiling  sense 


sc.  in]  GALLATHEA  471 

Tyte.  If  there  bee  such  changing,  I  woulde  Venus  could  make  my 
wife  a  Man. 

Meleb.    Why? 

Tyte.   Because  shee  loues  alwaies  to  play  with  men. 
160       Venus.   Well  you  are  both  fonde,  therefore  agree  to  thys  changing, 
or  suffer  your  Daughters  to  endure  harde  chaunce. 

Meleb.    Howe  say  you  Tyterus,  shall  wee  referre  it  to  Venus  ? 

Tyte.    I  am  content,  because  she  is  a  Goddesse. 

Venus.   Neptune  you  will  not  dislike  it  ? 
165      Nept.  Not  I. 

Venus.    Nor  you  Diana. 

Diana.    Not  I. 

Venus.    Cupid  shall  not. 

Cupid.   I  will  not. 

J7°  Venus.  Then  let  vs  depart,  neither  of  them  shall  know  whose  lot 
it  shal  be  til  they  come  to  the  Church-dore.  One  shall  be  :  doth  it 
suffise  ? 

Phil.   And  satis-fie  vs  both,  dooth  it  not  Gallathea  ? 

Galla.    X^Phillida. 

Enter  RAPE,  ROBIN,  and  DICKE. 

J75  Dicke.  Come  Robin,  I  am  gladde  I  haue  mette  with  thee,  for 
nowe  wee  will  make  our  Father  laugh  at  these  tales. 

Diana.  What  are  these  that  so  malepartlie  thrust  themselues  into 
our  companies  ? 

Robin.    Forsooth  Madame  we  are  fortune  tellers, 
i  So       Venus.    Fortune  tellers  !  tell  me  my  fortune. 

Raffe.  We  doe  not  meane  fortune  tellers,  we  meane  fortune 
tellers  :  we  can  tell  what  fortune  wee  haue  had  these  twelue  monthes 
in  the  Woods. 

Diana.    Let  them  alone,  they  be  but  peeuish. 

185  Venus.  Yet  they  will  be  as  good  as  Minstrils  at  the  marriage,  to 
make  vs  all  merrie. 

Dicke.    I,  Ladies  we  beare  a  very  good  Consort. 
Venus.    Can  you  sing  ? 
Raffe.    Baselie. 
190       Venus.    And  you? 

175  Dicke  I  alter  Rafe  of  old  eds.  F.  because  Robin  and  Raffe  have  already  met 
and  talked  in  v.  i,  /.  464,  and  at  tlie  close  of  that  scene  Peter  -was  conducting  them 
to  the  third  of  the  trio,  Dicke 


472  GALLATHEA  [ACT  v,  sc.  m 

Dicke.  Meanely. 

Venus.  And  what  can  you  doe  ? 

Robin.  If  they  duble  it,  I  will  treble  it. 

Venus.  Then  shall  yee  goe  with  vs,  and  sing  Hymen  before  the 
marriage.     Are  you  content  ? 

Raffe.  Content  ?   neuer  better  content !  for  there  we  shall  be  sure 
to  fill  our  bellies  with  Capons  rumpes,  or  some  such  daintie  dishes. 

Venus.  Then  follow  vs.  Exeunt. 


THE   EPILOGUE 


Galla.  r^  OE   all,  tis  I  onely  that  conclude  al.     [You  Ladies 
~7  ^^     may  see,  that    Venus  can  make   constancie   fickle- 

nes,  courage  cowardice,  modestie  lightnesse  ;  working  things  impos 
sible  in  your  Sexe,  and  tempering  hardest  harts  like  softest  wooJlTj 
Yeelde   Ladies,  yeeM_to  loue—Ladies,  which  lurketh  vnder  your  5 
eye-lids  whilst  you  sleepe,  and  plaieth  with  your  hart  strings  whilst 
you  wake  :    whose  sweetnes  neuer  breedeth  satietie,  labour  wearP" 
nesse,  nor  greefe  bitternesse.     Cupid  was  begotten  in  a  miste,  nursed 
in   Clowdes,   and   sucking   onelie    vpon   conceits.      Confesse    him 
a  Conquerer,  whom  yee  ought  to  regarde,  sith  it  is  vnpossible  to  10 
resist;   for  this  is  infallible,  that  Loue  conquereth  all  things  but 
it  selfe,  and  Ladies  all  harts  but  their  owne. 


FINIS 


sweetnesse  Bl.  :  sweetnesses  F. 


NOTE   ON    ITALIAN   INFLUENCE   IN 
LYLY'S   PLAYS 

IN  the  essay  prefixed  to  the  plays  I  have  made  only  the  barest  allusion 
to  the  influence  of  Italian  literature  on  Lyly's  dramatic  work1.  The 
general  debt  of  the  English  to  the  example  of  the  Italian  stage  has  been 
often  acknowledged  ;  as  has  the  much  more  considerable  and  definite 
debt  of  particular  plays  to  the  Italian  novellieri  or  poets— a  debt  of  which 
Whetstone's  Promos  and  Cassandra,  the  earlier  Tancred  and  Gtsmunda 
(1568),  and  the  still  earlier  Supposes  of  Gascoigne  (1566),  announced  on 
its  title-page  as  a  translation  from  the  Suppositi  of  Ariosto,  furnish 
particular  instances.  Modern  written  drama,  indeed,  may  be  said  to 
begin  with  Ariosto  :  and,  further,  the  extemporal  plays  (commedia  deW  arte 
or  air  improvuisd)  in  which  the  dialogue  was  supplied  by  the  actors  to 
a  given  skeleton  or  framework  of  the  action,  served,  no  doubt,  to  diffuse 
the  practice  of  the  Italian  stage  beyond  the  confines  of  Italy ;  for,  while 
such  improvisations  would  command  a  general  popularity,  we  may  take 
it  they  would  seldom  be  attempted  with  success  save  by  Italians.  It  has 
been  pointed  out  that  to  this  commedia  del?  arte$  and  its  successor  or 
coeval  the  Masked  Comedy,  played  by  typical  local  figures  in  masks, 
we  owe  the  stereotyped  figures  of  Pantomime — Harlequin,  Columbine, 
Pantaloon  and  Clown  2.  Collier  told  us  long  ago  of  Drousiano  and  his 
company  of  Italian  players,  who  attended  Elizabeth  in  her  progress  and 
performed  at  Windsor,  1 577-8 3;  and  it  is  not  impossible  that  Lyly  with 
his  special  advantages  may  have  seen  either  them  or  some  others.  Even 
if  he  had  not  seen  Italian  actors,  yet  he  had  almost  certainly  witnessed 
masques  and  entertainments  at  Court  ;  of  which  it  is  difficult  not  to  regard 
Italian  practice,  with  its  introduction  of  pastoral  and  mythological  elements, 
as  the  general  example,  though  Mr.  H.  A.  Evans  makes  some  stand  against 
the  idea  4.  In  the  instructive  paper  on  early  English  Pastoral 5  referred 
to  in  my  Introduction  to  the  Entertainments  in  vol.  i,  Mr.  A.  H.  Thorndike 
made  general  acknowledgement  of  this  Italian  influence,  which  is  apparent, 
for  instance,  in  the  earliest  formal  specimen  of  such  a  show  surviving, 

1  Cf.  pp.  237,  252,  266,  292. 

a  Cf.  Ward's  Eng.  Dram.  Lit.  vol.  i.  pp.  228  sqq. 

3  Hist.  Dram.  Poetry,  i.  226 ;  iii.  201. 

*  English  Masques  (1897);  Introduction,  p.  xx. 

5  Modern  Language  Notes  for  April,  1899  :  vol.  xiv  (Baltimore). 


474    ON   ITALIAN   INFLUENCE   IN   LYLY'S   PLAYS 

The  Princely  Pleasures  at  Kenilworth,  1576,  8o1.  'It  seems  certain,' 
says  Mr.  Thorndike  (col.  231),  'that  Gascoigne  borrowed  most  of  this 
pastoral  material  directly  from  similar  Italian  performances':  and  the 
evidence  of  connexion  might,  no  doubt,  be  considerably  strengthened, 
could  we  recover  the  texts  or  accounts  of  all  the  similar  shows  that  have 
perished.  Modern  Arcadianism,  with  its  mingling  of  pastoral  and  mytho 
logical  elements,  was  born  in  Italy  with  Sannazarro's  Arcadia*,  and 
constitutes  of  course  one  .of  the  chief  results  of  the  classical  revival.  But 
at  the  same  time  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  classical  impulse,  once 
imparted,  would  work  on  somewhat  the  same  lines  in  different  countries  ; 
and  some  caution  is  required  in  accepting  this  or  that  completed  product 
as  a  direct  derivative  from  a  similar  completed  product  in  Italy,  when  the 
same  elements  which  produced  it  there  were  present  also  elsewhere. 
Mr.  Thorndike  pertinently  remarks  (col.  299)  'The  theory  of  Rossi  (ed. 
Pastor  Fido,  1886,  Pt.  II,  ch.  i)  that  the  Italian  pastoral  drama  was 
developed  from  the  eclogue  through  the  medium  of  public  pageants  in 
honor  of  noble  families,  at  once  suggests  the  possibility  of  a  similar 
development  in  England  ' .  .  .  the  pastoral  plays  of  Lyly,  Peele  and  Daniel 
were  Court  entertainments — '  in  royal  shows,  then,  if  anywhere,  we  might 
expect  to  find  the  germs '  ;  and  accordingly  he  passes  in  brief  review  some 
of  the  specimens  preserved  in  Nichols'  Progresses — a  review  which 
induced  my  close  examination  of  them,  and  led  me  at  once  to  identify 
a  large  number  of  them  as  Lyly's  work,  though  the  identification  does  not 
seem  to  have  occurred  at  all  to  Mr.  Thorndike.  Now  for  all  such  shows 
after  1580  there  is  the  material  of  English  pastoral  poetry,  beginning  with 
The  Shepheardes  Kalender  in  1579,  and  including  a  great  deal  of  work  in 
the  various  Miscellanies,  produced  by  Sidney,  Dyer,  '  A.  W,'  Breton,  and 
other  poets,  among  whom  was  almost  certainly  Lyly  himself,  in  the  years 
immediately  succeeding  :  and,  further,  these  shows  exhibit,  as  Mr.  Thorn- 
dike  excellently  urges,  a  large  and  distinctively  English  element  of  native 
characters  and  comic  rusticity,  to  which  we  may  fairly  trace  the  similar 
element  in  Lovers  Labour's  Lost  and  William  and  Audrey  in  As  You  Like 
It ;  e.g.  Rombus,  the  Suitor,  Lalus  and  Dorcas  in  Sidney's  Lady  of  May, 
at  Wanstead  1578,  with  which  the  reader  may  compare  Lyly's  Gardener 
and  Molecatcher  at  Theobalds  1591,  his  Fisherman  and  Netter  at 
Cowdray  1591,  his  comic  treatment  of  Nereus  and  Silvanus  at  Elvetham 
1591,  and  his  Cutter  of  Cotswold  at  Sudeley  1592.  But  Lyly's  more 
elaborate  pastoral  plays — Gallathea,  Loves  Metamorphosis,  and  the 
pastoral  scenes  in  Midas— were  all  produced  (though  not  The  Woman) 
before  he  had  taken,  so  far  as  we  know,  any  share  in  the  manufacture  of 
these  slighter  Entertainments,  which  cannot  therefore  be  regarded,  in  his 

1  The  Complete  Poems  of  George  Gascoigne ',  by  W.  C.  Hazlitt,  vol.  ii.  pp.  91-134 
(Roxburgh  Library). 

2  Substantially  completed  by  1489,  though  not  published  in  a  correct  edition  till 
1504  (Dr.  R.  Garnett's  Italian  Literature,  p.  123;. 


HIS  DRAMATIC  EXAMPLES  ENGLISH  475 

ease,  in  the  light  of  an  intermediate  step.  In  Gallathea  we  have  the 
same  native  figures,  e.g.  Mariner  and  Astronom,  and  the  same  comic 
rusticity  in  the  treatment  of  Melebeus  and  Tyterus  (iv.  I  and  v.  3) ;  in 
Midas,  the  same  comic  tinging  of  the  part  of  Pan ;  while  there  was 
probably  a  similar  infusion  of  comedy  in  Loves  Metamorphosis,  of  which 
the  traces  have  been  since  removed.  It  is  to  The  Lady  of  May '  that  we 
must  look  for  the  example  of  this  rustic  and  comic  style ;  while  for  the 
more  conventional  pastoral  manner  Lyly,  whether  in  his  plays  or  shows, 
had  the  model  of  The  Princely  Pleasures.  In  one  of  the  set  pieces 
composed  by  Gascoigne  for  that  occasion,  but  by  some  accident  of  weather 
never  actually  performed,  Diana  formally  exhorts  her  nymphs  to  chastity  ; 
and  afterwards  dispatches  them  severally  in  search  of  her  favourite 
nymph  Zabeta  (Elizabetha),  absent  from  her  train  since  she  assumed  an 
exalted  position  some  sixteen  years  before— points  in  which  the  reader 
may  find  slight  suggestions  of  Lyly's  far  more  accomplished  work2. 
The  idea  of  such  pastoral  was  doubtless  derived  from  Italy,  and 
Gascoigne's  actual  work  in  this  kind  seems  directly  indebted ;  but 
beyond  this  general  debt  of  the  younger  English  to  the  slightly  older 
Italian  drama,  I  doubt  if  there  be  any  reason,  in  Lyly's  case,  to  go.  At 
this  early  period  the  debt  of  particular  plays  to  Italy  was,  as  Ward  shows, 
mainly  in  the  sphere  of  Tragedy  ;  and  with  a  continuous  stream  of  native 
English  production,  a  steady  advance  in  secularization  and  reality, 
a  growing  custom  of  Court-pageantry,  a  vigorous  and  varied  national  as 
well  as  Court  life  on  which  to  draw,  a  wide  study  of  the  classics  and  an 
obvious  and  direct  influence  of  Seneca,  Plautus,  and  Terence  upon  the 
university  playwrights,  there  is  surely  no  need  to  assume  that  all  English 
plays  must  have  an  Italian  source. 

The  originating  cause  of  these  remarks  lies  in  a  work,  to  which  my 
attention  was  drawn  only  when  my  own  Essay,  and,  indeed  nearly  all  of 
the  plays,  were  already  in  print.  It  is  entitled  Die  Stofflichen  Beziehungen 
der  Englischen  Komodie  zur  Italienischen  bis  Lilly,  von  L.  L.  Schiicking ; 
Halle,  1901  (no  pp.) ;  and  is  preliminary  only  to  a  fuller  study  which  shaU 
exhibit  the  debt  of  the  later  dramatists,  Shakespeare,  Ben  Jonson  and 
the  rest.  The  sixth  and  longest  chapter  is  devoted  to  Lyly.  I  cannot 
say  that  I  have  found  it  very  illuminating 3.  The  author  has  a  very 
considerable  acquaintance  with  early  English  dramatic  work,  and  a  wider 
than  I  can  boast  with  that  of  Italy.  He  has  diligently  made  himself 
master  of  all  the  scattered  references  to  Italy  and  Italian  plays  and 
*  deuises '  which  might  illustrate  his  theme.  He  acknowledges,  too,  that 

1  Referred  to  in  the  Essay  above,  p.  254. 

2  Compare  Act  iii.  sc.  I.  28,  64  of  our  play,  and  the  speech,  p.  454. 

3  Let  me  acknowledge  here  that  it  was  from  the  table  of  cited  works  at  the  end 
of  Herr  Schiicking's  essay,  p.  106,  that  I  first  heard  of  Mr.  Thorndike  s  paper, 
some  detail  in  which  led  me  to  suspect  Lyly's  hand  in  one  of  the  shows  in  Nichols, 
and  so  to  the  discovery  of  his  authorship  of  all  those  I  print  in  vol.  i. 


476     ON   ITALIAN   INFLUENCE   IN   LYLY'S   PLAYS 

the  desire  for  completeness  has  led  him  to  include  some  instances  where 
the  debt  is  *  doubtful,  or  merely  possible ' ;  and  since  he  denies  neither 
the  independent  character  of  Lyly's  art  in  general,  nor  his  direct 
connexion  with  the  classics,  we  may  perhaps  infer  that  his  is  the  doubtful 
case  referred  to l.  But  this  general  profession  is  contradicted  by  more 
positive  language  used  in  the  attempt  to  show  detailed  debt,  an  attempt 
which  impresses  me  as  of  the  flimsiest  character.  It  is  confined  to  four 
plays — Gallathea,  Loves  Metamorphosis,  Mother  Bombie,  and  Endimion. 
Starting  from  the  fact  that  pastoral  drama  in  Italy  reached  its  flower 
about  this  time,  the  author  endeavours  to  bring  Lyly's  two  first-named 
pastorals  into  direct  connexion  with  it.  Guarini's  Pastor  Fido,  though 
composed  in  1583,  was  not  performed  till  1587,  nor  published  till  1590; 
but  in  order  to  the  desired  connexion  we  are  to  date  Gallathea  at  the  end 
of  1587,  and  to  suppose  a  knowledge  of  the  Pastor  Fido  to  be  rapidly 
diffused  by  the  extemporal  actors  (p.  86,  note).  Gallathea,  we  are  told, 
'bears  the  impress  of  Italy  throughout'  (p.  83).  Although  its  motives 
are  of  fairly  diverse  origin,  yet  the  maiden-offering  may  be  derived  from 
the  Pastor  Fido  (p.  84),  where  a  similar  penalty  is  exacted  by  Diana  for 
the  violation  of  a  vow,  where  one  of  the  characters  is  named  Titiro, 
where  a  river-god  delivers  a  soliloquy  (I  cannot  find  it,  but  let  that  pass), 
where  a  shepherd  assumes  the  dress  of  a  shepherdess,  and  where  the 
piece  ends  with  a  wedding  !  Then  we  have  word-play  in  Italian  comedies 
as  well  as  in  Lyly  ;  and,  for  aught  we  know,  the  fun  made  about  the 
points  of  the  compass  (i.  4)  may  be  traceable  to  the  Italian  extemporizers. 
It  is  hardly  safe,  indeed,  to  assume  that  the  English  were  capable  of 
originating  the  simplest  joke,  though  under  the  influence  of  Italian 
example  they  might  be  brought  to  assimilate  and  reproduce  some  easy 
puns.  The  Alchemist  and  his  servant  Peter  are  '  doubtless  '  modelled  on 
one  of  the  Italian  necromancers,  e.  g.  the  Negromante  of  Ariosto,  and  his 
rascal  Nibbio,  whose  theft  of  his  master's  property  at  the  close  is  re 
produced  in  Peter  (iii.  3.  6) 2.  This  last  is,  with  the  exception  of  an 

1  Cf.  Vorwort,  and  the  following  passage  on  p.  87  :  c  Das  Motiv  der  Jungfrauen, 
die  sich  verschiedenen  Geschlechts  wahnen  und  in  einander  verlieben,  1st  freilich 
unmittelbar  aus  Ovids  Metamorphosen  (ix)  entnommen,  nichtsdestoweniger  kann 
die  Wahl  gerade  eines  solchen  Motivs  vorbereitet  sein  und  mit  Recht  sagt  Hense 
(Shakesp.-Jahrb.  viii.  s.  226):  "Mit  der  Neigung  des  Zeitalters  zu  Pantomimen 
und  Maskenspielen  hangt  auch  das  Interesse  zusammen,  das  man  an  den  Verwick- 
lungen  nahm,  die  durch  Verkleidung  entstanden."  Wir  konnen  hinzufiigen  :  wie 
sie  John  Lilly  tiberreich  gerade  auf  der  italienischen  Biihne  vorbereitet  finden 
konnte.  Eine  Beeinflussung  in  fler  Wahl  der  Motive  aufzuzeigen,  darauf  muss  sich 
bei  einem  so  selbstandigen  Kiinstler  wie  Lilly  iiberhaupt  unsere  Aufgabe  beschran- 
ken ;  mag  beispielsweise  die  weiter  unten  erwahnte  Szene  der  aus  dem  Baume 
sprechenden  Seele  immerhin  unmittelbar  dem  Ovid  entlehnt  sein — die  Drama- 
tisierung  desselben  Motivs  in  Italien  zeigt,  wie  sehr  der  englische  Kiinstler  ob 
mit  oder  ohne  Willen  in  der  Tradition  bleibt.'  This,  of  course,  is  fair  and  sound 
enough  :  only  parallelism  is  not  derivation. 

a  Comedie:  il  Negromante,  la  Lena,  i  Stippositi,  la  Cassaria,  la  Scolastica. 
Vinegia,  Gabr.  Giolito,  1551.  12°.  All  five  had  appeared  separately  at  earlier 


SMALL  DEBT  TO  ITALIAN  PASTORAL  STAGE     477 

allusion  to  Tasso's  Aminta  (1573),  the  single  one  of  Herr  Schiicking's 
points  which  wears  the  least  air  of  probability.  I  am  reminded  of  an 
expression  in  Euphues  and  his  England,  p.  200,  *  some  Artemidorus  or 
Lisimandro,  or  some  odd  Nigromancer,'  for  light  on  which  I  had  already 
consulted  Ariosto's  comedy  in  vain ;  of  the  fact  that  Psellus,  to  whose 
reputed  skill  in  magic  Philautus  appeals,  is  an  Italian  ;  of  the  story  about 
the  Duke  and  the  Alchemist  in  Pappe  with  a  Hatchet,  which  I  have  also 
failed  to  allocate.  But  on  the  other  hand  there  is  a  strong  probability,  as 
Herr  Schiicking  himself  partly  feels  (p.  85  note),  that  Gallathea  already 
existed  in  1585:  and  not  only  have  I  shown,  in  my  Introduction,  that 
Lyly  had  sufficient  example  for  his  Alchemist  and  Astronomer  and  Peter 
in  Chaucer  and  Reginald  Scot  and  Richard  Harvey,  and  that  he  actually 
used  those  writers,  but  we  must  note  further  that  his  Alchemist  and 
Astronomer  are  enthusiasts,  conceived  in  a  somewhat  different  spirit  from 
Ariosto's  impostor1,  who  has  much  more  affinity  with  Ben  Jonson's 
Subtle;  while  rascality  among  servants  has  the  same  features  all  the 
world  over  2. 

Believing  as  I  do  in  the  early  composition  (1584-8)  of  Loves  Meta 
morphosis,  at  least  in  first  draft,  I  see  little  more  likelihood  that  this 
play,  either,  is  indebted  to  the  Pastor  Fido,  in  the  Corisca  of  which  Herr 
Schiicking  sees  the  obvious  model  for  Niobe  (p.  93).  I  am  unmoved 
by  the  extraordinary  coincidence  that  an  English  and  an  Italian  flirt 
should  both  find  constancy  an  inconvenience  3 ;  nor  does  the  fish-tail  of 
Lyly's  Siren  persuade  me  of  her  derivation  from  the  Triton  in  Antonio 
Ongaro's  Alceo*,  nor  Ceres'  prayer  for  her  Nymphs'  chastity  in  Act  ii 
oblige  me  to  recall  any  similar  aspiration  in  foreign  work — and  these  are 
the  sole  points  of  comparison  cited,  save  that  the  scene  is  laid  in  woodland, 
and  that  the  Nymph  speaking  from  the  tree,  though  borrowed  direct  from 
Ovid,  also  figures  in  Italian  literature 5. 

dates;  the  two  first  at  Venice  1535,  4°,  the  three  others  at  Venice  in  1542,  1546, 
1547,  8°  (Brunet,  i.  446^. 

1  Contrast  with  Lyly's  sketch,  Nibble's  account  of  his  master  in  Act  ii.  sc.  r. 

2  Herr  Schiicking  admits  alchemy  in  England  :  why  then  must  Lyly  go  abroad 
for  an  alchemist  ? — '  Die  Alchemic  war  jener  Zeit  in  England  sehr  auf  der  Woge  : 
unter  Rudolf  II  kommen  sogar  zahlreiche  englische  Alchemisten  an  den  Wiener 
Hof,  in  dessen  geheimen  Ausgaben  betrachtliche  Summen  fur  sie  figurieren,  urn 
so  charakteristischer  ist  die  Entlehnung  eines  so  nahe  liegenden  Motivs  aus  fremder 
Quell e.'  [! !]  p.  88. 

3  Herr  Schiicking  compares  (p.  93)  a  passage  in  Act  iii.  sc.  I  (vol.  iii.  pp.  231-2) 
with  the  following  from  Corisca's  soliloquy  in  i.  3  of  the  Pastor  Fido  : 

Malconsigliata  donna,  che  si  lascia 
Ridurre  in  poverta  d'un  solo  amore. 
SI  sciocca  mai  non  sara  gia  Corisca. 
Che  fede?   che  costanza?   imaginate 
Favole  de'  gelosi,  e  nomi  vani 
Per  ingannar  le  semplici  fanciulle. 

4  A Icto :  f avola  pescatoria  .  .  Venetia,  1582.     8°.     Cf.  Schiicking,  p.  94. 

5  In  The  Princely  Pleasures  Gascoigne,  personating  Sylvanus,  meets  Elizabeth 
going  out  hunting,  and  after  enumerating  various  personages  whom  Zabeta's  disdain 


478     ON   ITALIAN   INFLUENCE   IN   LYLY'S   PLAYS 

,  Mother  Bombie,  which  he  acknowledges  to  exhibit  less  of  Italian  spirit 
and  colour,  is  treated  in  the  same  manner.  Steinhauser's  praise  of  it  as 
an  excellent  national  Comedy  of  intrigue  is  disallowed  because  it  employs 
the  motives  which  recur  in  all  such  comedies,  Italian  among  the  rest. 
For  the  supposed  specific  Latin  trait,  that  changed  children  are  finally 
landed  in  a  higher  social  position,  we  are  pointed  to  Dulippo  in  the 
Suppositi  ;  the  motive  of  servants'  help  is  frequent  in  Italian  work  ;  that 
of  affection  between  people  who  know  not  how  closely  they  are  related  to 
each  other  [but  Msestius  and  Serena,  Accius  and  Silena,  are  not  parallel, 
hardly  akin,  to  this]  is  anticipated  by  Cecchi ;  and  a  child-changing  by 
nurses  occurs  in  Cinthio's  Gli  Antivalomeni.  The  plot  of  the  latter,  which 
is  sketched,  presents,  however,  but  scant  resemblance  to  that  of  Mother 
Bombie ;  and  had  Herr  Schiicking  consulted  the  original  quartos  of  Lyly's 
play,  he  would  not  have  leaned  upon  the  slender  reed  of  descriptions  in 
a  Dramatis  Personae  list  found  only  in  modern  editors.  Again,  while 
allowing  that  the  use  of  disguise  on  the  Italian  stage  is  not  conclusive  to 
a  borrowing  by  Lyly,  he  finds  a  special  link  in  what  was  surely  quite  as 
hackneyed  a  matter,  the  brief  introduction  of  palmistry  in  ii.  3,  as  in  Ariosto's 
Suppositi  (i.  2).  Even  the  Hackneyman  is  not  to  be  allowed  as  of  native 
origin,  because  the  Sergeant  to  whom  he  appeals  for  redress  is  paralleled 
by  similar  invocations  of  the  law  in  Italian  extemporal  comedies.  These 
are  insufficient  arguments  to  induce  us  to  qualify  Baker's  description  of 
the  piece  as  '  a  comedy  on  the  Terentian  model.' 

As  regards  Endimion,  it  is  merely  claimed  that  the  Italian  extemporal 
comedy  shared  with  Plautus,  Terence  and  Roister  Doister  in  the  inspira 
tion  of  Sir  Tophas,  a  claim  illustrated  only  by  the  following  unconvincing 
parallels. 

Birds,  or  boyes,  sagt  Sir  Tophas  II  pranzo  del  Capitano  deve  essere  di 
(I.  Akt,  3.  Sz.),  they  are  both  but  a  tre  piatti  di  carne:  il  primo  sia  di  came 
pittance  for  my  breakfast ;  therefore  d'  Hebrei,  il  secondo  di  carne  di  Turchi, 
have  at  them,  for  their  braines  must  as  ed  il  terzo  di  carne  di  Luterani  (Bar- 
it  were  imbroder  my  bolts.  toli :  Scenari  inediti  della  commedia 

dell'  arte.     Florenz  1880  :  XXIII). 

I  was  the  first  that  ever  devised  warre  La  sua  spada  fu   fabricata  da  Vul- 

and  therefore  by  Mars  himselfe  given  cano. 
me  for  my  armes  a  whole  armorie. 

For  commonly  I  kill  by  the  doozen  Fa  sempre  il  bravaccio,  P  ammazza- 

and  have  for  every  particular  adversarie  sette. 
a  peculier  weapon  .  .  . 

By  way  of  padding  to  these  slender  arguments  the  chapter  includes 
full  sketches  of  the  action  of  the  plays  in  question  (useful,  no  doubt,  to 
German  readers),  and  a  good  deal  of  talk  round  about  the  general  subject 

has  metamorphosed  into  trees — oak,  poplar,  bramble,  ash-tree,  ivy — conducts  her 
to  a  holly-bush,  from  which  she  is  addressed  by  '  Deepe  Desire '  (Complete  Poems, 
ii.  129). 


A  READER  OF  SANNAZARRO  479 

comedy— on  the  absence  of  the  figure  of  the  mother  in  the  comedy- 
household,  on  the  importance  of  disguise  in  creating  comic  interest,  on 
the  entire  [asserted]  want  of  distinction  between  the  individuals  composing 
Lyly's  groups,  on  the  comparative  freedom  of  his  plays  from  grossness — 
talk,  in  fact,  on  a  variety  of  not  uninteresting  points  which,  yet,  does  not 
compensate  us  for  the  lack  of  that  convincing  evidence  required  to  justify 
the  chapter's  existence.  The  allusion  to  the  Aminta  excepted,  I  cannot 
•  think  that  it  succeeds  in  showing  anything  more  than  the  possibility  that 
Lyly  may  have  picked  up  something  from  witnessing  Italian  extemporal 
acting.  The  relations  of  Peter  with  the  Alchemist  are  perhaps  just  near 
enough  to  those  of  Nibbio  with  the  Negromante  to  suggest  that  Lyly  may 
have  read  Ariosto's  comedy  in  addition  to  the  native  sources  he  plainly 
uses ;  and  it  is  extremely  probable  that  he  had  read  Gascoigne's  Supposes, 
though  I  see  no  evidence  that  he  actually  borrowed  from  it.  The  use  of 
servants'  names  in  -to  is  really  no  argument  for  Italian  debt,  when  similar 
names  abound  in  Plautus  and  Terence l.  In  the  next  section  of  his  work 
Herr  Schiicking  will  find  much  more  solid  and  abundant  support  for  his 
thesis  :  I  cannot  help  feeling  the  present  chapter  as  somewhat  of  an  effort 
to  make  bricks  without  straw. 

Nevertheless  I  am  obliged  to  him  for  having  led  me  to  look  more 
closely  into  the  matter.  Though  there  is  no  evidence  of  Lyly's  having 
travelled  until  late  in  life — we  should  infer  from  a  passage  in  Euphues12- 
that  he  had  not,  before  1580 — yet  as  a  member  of  an  Italianized  Court, 
and  as  confidential  secretary  to  the  Italianate  Earl  who  was  said  to  be 
the  original  of  Harvey's  Mirrour  of  Tuscanismo,  he  could  hardly  escape 
the  infection.  It  would  be  strange  if  he  could  not  read  Italian,  which 
Gascoigne  says  he  himself  '  lerned  in  London ' 3  ;  and  several  things  in 
Euphues,  the  allusions  to  Petrarch,  the  social  customs  reproducing  those 
in  Boccaccio's  Filocopo  (trans.  1567) 4,  and  Philautus'  apostrophe  of  Italy 
(p.  88)  imply  some  acquaintance  with  Italian  literature.  I  have  already 
noted  what  seem  to  me  some  echoes  of  Capella's  or  Domenichi's  treatises 
in  praise  of  women 5 ;  and  I  have  to  note  now  one  or  two  other  points 
which  seem  to  show  that,  before  Euphues  was  completed,  Lyly  had 
dipped  into  the  chief  fountain  of  modern  pastoral 6.  The  story  told  in  the 

1  E.g.  Tranio  and  Grumio  (Mostellarid) ,  Milphio  (Poenulus\  Lucrio  (Mil. 
Glor.},  Doric  and  Hegio  (Phormio),  Dromo,  Thraso,  Gnatho,  Parmeno,  &c. 

See  above,  p.  34,  11.  19-33. 

Dedication  of  Hemetes  the  heremyte,  1576  (Complete  Poems,  ii.  139). 

See  vol.  i.  pp.  135,  161. 

See  vol.  i.  p.  175,  note. 

1  must  admit  a  previous  suspicion  that  work  so  fixed  and  set  in  manner,  and  so 
successful  in  its  kind,  as  Gallathea  and  Loves  Metamorphosis,  might  have  some 
original  in  Italy  besides  the  classical  and  native  sources  of  which  I  had  demon 
strated  Lyly's  use  :  and  I  had  accordingly  made  such  cursory  examination  of  San- 
nazarro's  Arcadia  and  of  the  Galatea  of  Cervantes  (pub.  Dec.  1584)  as  led  me  to 
conclude  him  unindebted  to  these  in  the  matter  of  plot.  I  had  however,  as  I  find, 
failed  to  gather  all  there  was  to  glean. 


480     ON   ITALIAN   INFLUENCE   IN   LYLY'S   PLAYS 

Glasse1  to  flatter  Elizabeth,  that  Zeuxis  despairing  of  doing  justice  to 
Venus  '  drew  in  a  table  a  faire  temple,  the  gates  open,  &  Venus  going 
in,  so  as  nothing  coulde  be  perceiued  but  hir  backe ' ; — a  tale  for  which 
I  know  of  no  classical  authority — seems  adapted  from  a  passage  in 
Sannazarro's  Arcadia,  where  a  company  repairing  to  a  temple  of  Pales 
notice  among  the  frescoes  above  the  entrance  one  of  the  Judgement  of 
Paris — '  But  what  was  not  less  subtle  in  the  thought  than  pleasant  in  the 
seeing  was  the  shrewdness  of  the  wary  painter,  who  having  made  Juno 
and  Minerva  of  such  extreme  beauty  that  to  surpass  them  was  impossible, 
and  doubting  of  his  power  to  make  Venus  so  lovely  as  the  tale  demanded, 
had  painted  her  with  back  turned,  covering  the  defect  of  art  by  ingenuity 
of  invention2.'  Again  Psellus'  humorous  recital  to  Philautus  of  love- 
charms  professed  by  the  magicians  is  very  possibly  a  burlesque  of  the 
serious  recital  of  such  in  the  Arcadia. 

'  Togliendo  il  veleno  delle  innamorate  '  The  Methridate  of  the  Magitians,  the 

cavalle,  il  sangue  della  vipera,  il  cerebro  Beast  Hiena,  of  whom  there  is  no  parte 

del  rabbiosi  orsi,  e  i  peli  della  estrema  so  small,  or  so  vyle,  but  it  serueth  for 

coda  del  lupo,  con  altre  radici  di  erbe,  their  purpose :  Insomuch  that  they  ac- 

e  sughi  potentissimi,  sapeva  fare  molte  compt  Hyena  their  God  that  can  doe 

altre  cose  maravigliosissime,  ed  incredi-  al,  and  their  Diuel  that  will  doe  all. 

bili  a  raccontare  .  .  . '  '  e  questo  detto,  If  you  take  seauen  hayres  of  Hyenas 

seguito  d'  un  dente  tolto  di  bocca  alia  lyppes,  and  carrye  them  sixe  dayes  in 

destra  parte  di  un  certo  animale  chia-  your  teeth,  or  a  peece   of  hir   skinne 

mato  Jena:   il  qual  dente  e  di  tanto  nexte  your  bare   hearte,  or  hir  bellye 

vigore,   che    qualunque   cacciatore    sel  girded   to  your  left    side,    if   Camilla 

legasse  al  braccio,  non   tirerebbe  mai  suffer  you  not  to  obtaine  your  purpose, 

colpo   in  vano  ;    e  non  partendosi  da  certeinely  she  cannot  chuse,  but  thanke 

questo  animale,  disse,  che  chi  sotto  al  you  for  your  paines. 

piede  ne  portasse  la  lingua,  non  sarebbe  And  if  you  want  medicines  to  winne 

mai  abbajato  da'  cani :   chi  i  peli  del  women,  I  haue  yet  more,  the  lungs  of 

muso,  con  la  pelle  delle  oscene  parti  a  Vultur,  the  ashes  of  Stellio,  the  left 

nel  sinistro   braccio  legata  portasse,  a  stone  of  a  Cocke,  the  tongue  of  a  Goose, 

qualunque  pastorella  gli  occhi  volgesse,  the  brayne  of  a  Cat,  the  last  haire  of  a 

si  farebbe   subito   a  mai  grado  di  lei  Woluestaile.  Thinges  easie  to  be  hadde, 

seguitare  . . .  e  . .  che  chi  sovra  la  sintstra  and  commonlye  practised,'  &c.  Euphues 

mammella  di  alcuna  donna  ponesse  un  and  his  Eng.  p.  116. 
cuore   di   notturno   gufo,  le   sarebbe   i 
secreti  .  .  manifestare.'     Prosa  ix. 

Then  the  laments  of  Lyly's  unfortunate  lovers,  Euphues,  Philautus, 
Apelles  or  Phao,  may  owe  something  to  those  of  Sannazarro's  shepherds  : 
the  picture  of  Geron  in  lonely  exile  may  be  suggested  by  that  in  Prosa  vii, 
where  Sincere  contrasts  the  pleasant  life  of  his  native  land,  whence  he 
has  been  driven  by  love,  with  that  '  tra  queste  solitudini  di  Arcadia,  ove 
non  che  i  giovani  nelle  nobili  citta  nudriti,  ma  appena  mi  si  lascia  credere 

1  Above,  p.  211. 

2  Prosa  iii,  translated  by  Symonds  (Renaissance  in  Italy,  v.  179). 


HIS   ECLOGAE  PISCATORIAL  48  * 

che  le  salvatiche  bestie  vi  possano  con  diletto  dimorare  '  ;  and  the  fountain 
by  that  of  magic  clearness  described  in  Prosa  viii,  almost  identically  as 
Boccaccio  had  described  it  in  his  Ameto  from  Ovid,  Met.  iii.  407-12  :  the 
mutual  attraction  of  Gallathea  and  Phillida  may  own  a  debt  to  that  of 
Carino  and  his  love  in  Prosa  viii  '  che  al  mio  giudicio  con  le  sue  bellezze 
non  che  1'  altre  pastorelle  d5  Arcadia,  ma  di  gran  lunga  avanza  le  sante 
Dee  ;  la  quale,  perocche  dai  teneri  anni  a'  servigj  di  Diana  disposta,  ed  io 
similmente  nei  boschi  nato  e  nodrito  era,  volentieri  con  meco,  ed  io  con 
lei,  per  le  selve  insieme  ne  dimesticammo,'  £c.  J  :  and  the  mention  of  Pan's 
'temple  in  Arcadie'  and  the  allusion  to  Syrinx  in  his  song  (Midas,  iv.  I. 
34,  103)  are  at  least  paralleled  in  Prosa  x.  In  the  Arcadia,  too,  may  be 
found  some  of  Lyly's  non-Virgilian  names,  e.  g.  Montano,  Fillida,  Climene, 
Tirrena  .  (Lyly's  'Tirtena').  And,  further,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that 
Loves  Metamorphosis  shows  some  trace  of  Sannazarro's  Latin  Eclogae 
Piscatoriae  ;  not  merely  in  the  bringing  of  pastoral  down  to  the  seashore, 
for  which,  as  for  the  heroine's  prayer  to  Neptune,  he  had  direct  example 
in  the  Ovidian  story  2,  but  in  the  transformation  of  the  stony-hearted  Nisa 
into  a  rock  Svorne  with  the  continuall  beating  of  waues  '  (v.  4.  68), 
and  in  the  introduction  of  a  Siren.  Written  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Naples,  these  Eclogues  of  Sannazarro  teem  with  allusions  to  the  Sirens, 
who  were  associated  in  classical  myth  with  that  coast  ;  and  in  the 
following  prayer  of  lolas,  conjoined  with  Ovidian  suggestions  noted  in 
my  Introduction  to  the  play,  we  may  perhaps  recognize  one  of  the  germs 
of  Lyly's  work. 

{  Sirenes,  mea  cura,  audite  haec  ultima  vota. 
Aut  revocet  jam  Nisa  suum,  nee  spernat  lolam, 
Aut  videat  morientem.     Haec  saxa  impulsa  marinis 
Fluctibus,  haec  misero  vilis  dabit  alga  sepulcrum3. 

Ille  habet  ;  ille  meos  scopulos  mihi  servat  amores.' 

The  same  fleeting  suggestion  of  Loves  Metamorphosis,  such  as  might 
be  reproduced  in  the  work  of  an  artist  of  independent  constructive  powers, 
occurs  to  me  in  reading  the  Ameto  of  Boccaccio.  In  the  story  told  by  the 
nymph  Acrimonia,  we  have  her  unwilling  marriage,  brought  about  by 
a  father  whom  she  loves,  to  a  Sicilian  (  sparuto  e  male  conveniente  alia 
mia  forma,'  who  takes  her  off  on  shipboard  (cf.  Protea  in  iv.  2.  3—  a  point 
not  in  Ovid)  to  Rome,  where,  besieged  by  importunate  lovers,  she  remains 
'  like  a  marble  image,'  and  is  reminded  by  her  companions  of  the  fleeting 

1  So  Phillida,  commanded  by  Diana  to  serve  her,  says  '  I  am  willing  to  goe,  — 
not  for  these  Ladies  copanie,  .  .  .  but  for  that  fayre  boyes  fauor,  who  I  thinke  be 
a  God.'     Act  ii.  sc.  i.  61-3. 

2  Metam.  viii.  849-51.     Theocritus  had  also  introduced  two  fishermen  in  his 
aist  Idyll. 


3  Ed.  iii.  50-3.     Cf.  Loves  Met.  v.  4.  116",  where  Nisa's  lover  says  '  vpon  that 
ke  did  I  resolue  to  end  m    life.' 


Rocke  did 


4S2     ON  ITALIAN   INFLUENCE  IN  LYLY'S  PLAYS 

nature  of  youth  and  beauty  in  terms  which  recall  those  of  Euphues  to 
Lucilla  or  Sybilla  to  Phao  *.  Like  Sapho,  she  arouses  the  anger  of  Venus 
by  her  stubborn  defiance.  One  of  her  lovers  makes  urgent  appeal  against 
her  cruelty  to  the  goddess,  who  thereupon  at  a  solemn  festival  suddenly 
isolates  her  from  the  rest  by  a  strong  light  which  renders  her  invisible, 
and  after  a  stern  rebuke  receives  her  submission  and  restores  her  to  her 
friends,  when  she  accepts  her  lover's  addresses.  This  certainly  bears 
some  likeness  to  the  tale  of  Lyly's  three  nymphs ;  and  the  story,  which 
only  occupies  a  portion  of  the  work,  includes  allusions  to  Ceres,  Niobe 
and  Ulysses. 

Politian's  Orfeo  yields  nothing  ;  but  I  note  the  same  kind  of  fragmentary 
suggestion  in  Tasso's  beautiful  Amznta,  a  play  which  Herr  Schiicking,  in 
deed,  mentions  as  among  Lyly's  general  examples  of  pastoral,  though  the 
single  special  parallel  he  cites  is  that  to  Cupid's  disguise  in  Gallathea** 
Amor's  part  in  Tasso  is  confined  to  a  prologue  spoken '  in  habito  pastorale ' ; 
but  the  lines,  nevertheless,  are  such  as  Lyly  may  have  drawn  upon,  especi 
ally  in  the  idea  of  his  truancy  from  Venus,  who  wants  to  dispose  of  him 
entirely  herself  and  keep  him  in  Courts,  while  he  is  determined  to  try  his 
weapons  on  more  simple  hearts  : 

'  lo  voglio  hoggi  con  questo  [dardo] 

Far  cupa  ed  immedicabile  ferita 

Nel  duro  sen  de  la  piu  cmda  Ninfa, 

Che  mai  seguisse  il  Choro  di  Diana.' 

To  this  end  he  will  mingle  with  the  feasting  and  garlanded  shepherds  : 

'  Queste  selve  hoggi  ragionar  d'  araore 
S'  udiranno  in  nuova  guisa  :   e  ben  parrassi, 
Che  la  mia  Delta  sia  qul,  presente 
In  se  medesima,  e  non  ne'  suoi  ministri.' 

This  is  certainly  like  the  attitude  of  Cupid  to  his  mother  in  Sapho,  Act  v, 
and  like  his  language  after  his  colloquy  with  the  nymph  in  Gallathea,  i.  2. 
30-4  '  Diana,  and  thou,  and  all  thine,  shall  knowe  that  Cupid  is  a  great 
god  :  I  will  practise  a  while  in  these  woodes,  and  play  such  pranckes  with 
these  Nimphes'  &c.  ;  and  cf.  ii.  2.  1-14.  In  the  piece  itself  we  get  the 
same  warnings  against  disdain  of  love  in  youth  as  in  the  Ameto  and 
Arcadia,  and  as  in  the  mouths  of  Euphues,  Sybilla,  or  Ceres.  Eurota's 
words  about  the  insensible  approach  of  love  may  be  suggested  by 
Aminta's 3 :  the  assertion  of  Tasso's  Thyrsis,  that  girls  from  their  infancy 

1  Vol.  i.  p.  203  11.  3-20 ;  Sapho  and  Phao,  ii.  i.  93  sqq. 

'J  All  he  says  on  the  point  is — c  Aehnlich  wie  hier  im  II.  Akt  Cupido,  geht  in 
Tassos  Aminta  Amor  im  Schaferkleide  auf  die  Plirsche,'  p.  87. 
3  'A  poco,  a  poco  nacque  nel  mio  petto, 
Non  so  da  qual  radice, 

Com'  herba  suol,  che  per  se  stessa  germini, 
Un'  incognito  affetto, 
Che  mi  fea  desiare 
D'  esser  sempre  presente 


TASSO'S   AMINTA  483 

understand  the  art  of  charming1,  might  I  think  be  paralleled  in  Euphues ; 
and  I  find  in  the  following  speech  of  the  elderly  shepherdess  Dafne  a 
considerable  resemblance  to  one  of  Sybilla : 

'  E  spacciato  un'  Amante  rispettoso ;  '  If  she  seeme  at  the  first  cruell,  be 

Consiglial  pur,  che  faccia  altro  me-  not  discouraged.     I  tell  the  a  straung 

stiero;  thing,   womenne    striue,  because   they 

Poich'  egli  e  tal :  chi  imparar  vuol  would  be  ouercome :  force  they  call  it, 

d*  amare,  but  such  a  welcome  force  they  account 

Desimpari  il  respetto;  osi,  domandi,  it,  that  continually  they  study  to  be 

Solleciti,  importuni,  al  fine  involi :  enforced.     To  faire  words  ioyne  sweet 

E,  se  questo  non  basta,  anco  rapisca.  kisses,  which  if  they  gently  receiue,  I  say 

Hor,    non    sai    tu,    com'    e    fatta    la  no  more,  they  wil  gently  receiue.     But 

Donna?  be  not  pinned  alwaies  on  her  sleeues, 

Fugge,  e   fuggendo  vuol  che  altri  la  straungers  haue  greene  rushes,  whe  daily 

giunga ;  guests  are  not  worth  a  rushe  .  .     Be 

Niega,   e    negando  vuol  ch'  altri   si  not  coy,  beare,  sooth,  sweare,  die  to 

toglia  ;  please  thy  Lady :  .  .  ,     Old  foole  that 

Pugna,  e   pugnando  vuol  ch'  altri  la  I  am  !   to  doe  thee  good,  I  beginne  to 

vinca.  doate,  &  counsell  that,  which  I  woulde 

Ve',  Tirsi,  io  parlo  teco  in  confidenza ;  haue  concealed.1    Sapho  and  P/iao,  ii. 

Non  ridir,  ch'  io  cio  dica,  e  sovra  tutto  4.  92  sqq. 
Non  porlo  in  rime.'    (Act  ii.  sc.  2.) 

I  am  therefore  obliged  to  Herr  Schiicking  for  the  suggestion  which  has 
led  me  to  observe  these  likenesses,  and  to  state  here  what  I  have  not 
stated  explicitly  in  the  Essay,  the  ultimate  and  general  debt  of  English 
pastoral  to  similar  Italian  work,  whether  on  the  stage  or  in  less  regular 
masques  and  shows.  Lyly  adopts  the  set  pastoral  air,  the  long  speeches 
and  soliloquies,  the  artificiality — which  marks  the  whole  genre,  and  for 
which  Cervantes  in  the  Preface  to  his  own  Galatea  tenders  some  apology — 

A  la  mia  bella  Silvia, 
E  bevea  da'  suoi  lumi 
Un'  estranea  dolcezza, 
Che  lasciava  nel  fine 
Un  non  so  che  d'  amaro : 
Sospirava  sovente,  e  non  sapeva 
La  cagion  de'  sospiri. 
Cosl  fui  prima  Amante,  ch'  intendessi 
Che  cosa  fosse  Amore.'     (Act  i.  sc.  2.) 

'  Eurota.  I  confesse  that  I  am  in  loue,  and  yet  sweare  that  I  know  not  what  it 
is.  I  feele  my  thoughts  vnknit,  mine  eyes  vnstaied,  my  hart  I  know  not  how 
affected,  or  infected,  my  sleepes  broken  and  full  of  dreames,  my  wakenesse  sad  and 
full  of  sighes,  my  selfe  in  all  thinges  vnlike  my  selfe.  If  this  be  loue,  I  woulde  it 
had  neuer  beene  deuised.'  Act  iii.  sc.  i.  45-50.  Perhaps  Niobe  in  Loves  Met.  ii. 
i.  64-71  is  closer. 

1  '  Ma,  quale  e  cosl  semplice  Fanciulla, 
Che,  uscita  da  le  fascie,  non  apprenda 
L'  arte  del  parer  bella,  e  del  piacere  ? 
De  1'  uccider  piacendo,  e  del  sapere 
Qual  arme  fera,  e  qual  dia  morte,  e  quale 
Sani,  e  ritorni  in  vita?'     (Act  ii.  sc.  2.) 

i  i  2 


484    ON   ITALIAN   INFLUENCE   IN   LYLY'S  PLAYS 

of  representing  folk  of  evident  culture  and  refinement  as  living  a  life  of 
woodland  simplicity:  and  since  the  elaborate  pastoral  works  of  Sidney 
and  of  Lodge  only  made  their  appearance  in  1590,  his  example  for  these 
things  must  be  sought  partly  in  the  classics  and  partly  in  Italy.  But  to 
search  for  close  or  abundant  detailed  debt  in  Lyly's  plays  is  probably 
vain.  He  was  too  original  an  artist  to  borrow  wholesale ;  he  constantly 
prides  himself  on  his  '  invention ' :  and  though  I  think  he  must  have 
known  the  Amtnta,  I  recognize  no  trace  of  the  Pastor  Fido,  which 
I  consider  to  have  appeared  too  late  to  exercise  a  possible  influence  on 
Gallathea,  or  on  the  first  form  of  Loves  Metamorphosis,  if  indeed  the 
second  draft  was  not  completed  before  its  appearance.  The  Woman  in 
the  Moone,  though  less  elegant,  is  in  some  respects  nearer  to  the  simplicity 
of  pastoral  life ;  but  this  is  a  point  which  puts  it  farther  from  work  like 
Tasso's  and  Guarini's,  to  which  Herr  Schiicking  notes  no  detailed 
resemblance1.  And  even  in  the  matter  of  general  resemblance  Lyly's 
work  lacks  some  of  the  chief  marks  of  pastoral.  In  the  first  two  the 
usual  allusions  to  sheep  and  goats  are  almost  entirely  suppressed  2,  Lyly 
substituting  forestry,  with  which  he  was  more  familiar.  Then  we  have 
not  only  the  introduction  of  farcical  elements  into  the  woodland  life,  but 
the  infusion  of  a  distinctly  gayer  and  more  sportive  note  of  ideal  comedy 
than  is  audible  in  Sannazarro  or  Tasso.  And  further  Lyly  eliminates  the 
pessimist  harping  back  to  a  golden  age  which  forms  an  integral  part  of 
the  Italians'  work,  e.  g.  the  long  eclogue  of  old  Opico  in  praise  of  the  past 
at  the  end  of  Prosa  vi,  and  the  famous  and  beautiful  chorus  at  the  end  of 
the  first  Act  of  the  Aminta.  The  loss  of  poetry  is,  perhaps,  compensated 
by  some  gain  in  fitness  :  for  in  this  shepherd-life,  which  attempts  to 
reconstruct  the  age  of  gold,  the  note  of  regret  is  really  an  intrusion  ;  and 
to  accept  Dafne's 

'  II  Mondo  invecchia, 
E  invecchiando  intristisce ' 3 

as  the  natural  utterance  of  such  an  age,  is  practically  to  admit  that  life 
may  be  golden  still.  Even  the  contrast  between  rural  simplicity  and  the 
life  of  cities,  which  we  might  have  expected  the  adapter  of  Guevara  to 
emphasize,  only  makes  some  faint  appearance  in  Sapho  and  Phao,  in  the 
ferryman's  content  before  his  simple  occupation  is  interrupted,  and  in  the 
discomfort  felt  by  Pandion,  the  pensive  university  student,  when  suddenly 
plunged  into  Court-life. 

And  it  is  no  small  argument  against  the  claim  of  detailed  debt  that  it 
is  quite  unsupported  by  such  authorities  as  Ward  and  Symonds.  The 
latter  especially,  coming  fresh  from  his  elaborate  study  of  Italian  Renaiss- 

1  P.  TOT. 

2  Gallathea  alludes  to  'our  flocke'  in  i.  I.  6;  and  there  is  more  of  it  in  The 
Woman. 

3  Aminta,  ii.  2. 


OUR   FOREIGN    CRAZE  485 

ance  literature  to  the  study  of  our  early  drama,  in  his  excellent  chapter  on 
Lyly  is  silent  of  any  such  close  connexion  *.  The  tendency  among  English 
critics  for  some  time  past  has  been  to  allot  as  much  importance  as  possible 
to  foreign  influence :  and  this  reaction  from  a  past  neglect  justifies  the 
exhibition  of  some  caution  in  accepting  claims  which  our  own  investigators 
have  quite  failed  to  recognize.  It  may  be  that  the  suggestions  of  debt 
that  I  have  made  here  myself  are  as  numerous  as  those  of  Herr  Schiicking  : 
I  hope  at  least  that  they  are  more  convincing.  I  offer  them  for  what  they 
are  worth. 

1  The  Preface  to  Symonds'  two  volumes  on  Italian  Literature  is  dated  March, 
1 88 1  :  that  to  Shakespeare's  Predecessors,  Nov.  9,  1883.  In  the  latter,  chap,  xiii, 
he  only  speaks  of  Petrarcan  love-conceits,  pp.  507,  511 :  though  of  course  both  he 
and  Ward  freely  acknowledge  the  general  debt  to  Italy. 


NOTES 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Page  1.  Title — Ms  voyage  and  aduentures,  myxed  with  stmdry  pretie 
discourses,  &c. :  the  promise  of  the  title  is  on  the  whole  better  kept  than 
was  the  case  with  the  former  novel.  Though  Philautus  is  here  the 
protagonist  rather  than  Euphues,  there  is  much  more  action;  and  the 
'  discourses,'  which  still  occupy  the  chief  place  in  the  book,  are  no  longer 
merely  moral  or  pious.  It  is  modern  social  life,  and  especially  love  and 
love-making  under  the  conditions  imposed  by  such  life,  that  is  Lyly's 
subject  here ;  and  accordingly  it  is  to  Euphues  and  his  England,  rather 
than  to  The  Anatomy  of  Wit,  that  the  title  of  the  earliest  English  novel 
may  properly  be  assigned.  See  Introd.  Essay,  vol.  i.  pp.  159-60. 

to  be  regarded',  heeded  or  followed  as  a  rule  of  action. 

Commend  it,  or  amend  it :  this  motto,  found  on  the  title-page  of  all 
editions,  appears  also  in  the  Epist.  Dedicatory,  p.  6  1.  22,  and  on  p.  205  in 
regard  to  his  portrait  of  the  Queen,  where  it  is  appended  to  a  saying  of 
Zeuxis,  Plin.  xxxv.  36. 

P.  3.  Dedication :  the  wording  is  precisely  the  same  as  that  of  the 
First  Part.  We  know  from  Harvey  that  the  position  Lyly  actually  occu 
pied  in  Lord  Oxford's  household  was  that  of  his  secretary.  See  Life, 
vol.  i.  p.  24. 

8.  Phydias  the  first  Paynter :  a  description  founded  on  Pliny,  xxxv. 
34,  where  Pliny  corrects  the  Greek  notion  that  painting  appeared  much 
later  than  statuary  by  the  tradition  that  Phidias  (fior.  448  B.C.)  painted 
a  shield  at  Athens.  This  story  about  his  painting  his  own  portrait 
seems,  however,  as  fictitious  as  that  about  Parrhasius  with  which  the 
former  dedication  opens. 

13.  did  for  myfyrst  coiinterfaite,  coulour  mine  owne  Euphues :  plainly 
negativing  theories  of  Endimion  or  The  Woman  in  the  Moone  as  his 
earliest  work ;  while  the  story  about  Phidias  implies  an  autobiographical 
element,  at  least,  in  Part  I.  Autobiography  enters  also  into  the  present 
work.  See  Life,  vol.  i.  pp.  2-4. 

21.  by  chaunce,  as  Protogenes  did  the  foame  of  his  dogge :  Pliny, 
xxxv.  36,  relates  that  after  many  efforts  to  paint  this  foam  aright,  the  happy 
effect  was  reached  by  his  throwing  at  the  picture  in  a  fit  of  impatience  the 
sponge  loaded  with  the  colour  previously  wiped  off. 

24.  scarse  sing  sol  fa  . . .  straine  aboue  Ela :  C  sol  fa  ut  was  the 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  487 

name  generally  applied  in  Solmisation  to  C,  because  this  note  bore  those 
various  names  according  as  the  Hard,  the  Soft,  or  the  Natural  Hexachord 
was  in  question,  i.e.  according  as  the  scale  began  on  G,  F,  or  C.  E  was 
similarly  indicated  by  the  general  name  E  la  mi.  (See  Grove's  Diet,  of 
Music,  art.  Solmisation^)  The  interval  between  C  and  E  is  two  full  tones, 
a  very  important  difference  in  the  upward  limit  of  a  singer's  register. 
Lyly  means  that  the  willing  singer  can  get  two  notes  higher  than  the 
unwilling.  He  uses  the  same  phraseology  in  M.  Bombie,  ii.  i.  132,  and 
the  Prologue  to  Midas.  For  the  affected  reluctance  of  musicians,  cf. 
Much  Ado,  ii.  3.  40. 

26.  their  importunitie  :  the  excuse  has  seen  much  service  since. 
P.  4,  1.  cotent  to  set  an  other  face  to  Euphues :   so  a  page  below,  *  had 
I  not  named  Euphues,  fewe  woulde  haue  thought  it  had  bene  Euphues.' 
See  Introductory  Essay,  vol.  i.  pp.  159,  160. 

3.  not  runing  together,  lik  the  Hopplitides  of  Parrhasiits :  Pliny, 
xxxv.  36  (Bost.  and  Riley,  vi.  253)  'There  are  also  two  most  noble  pictures 
by  him,  one  of  which  represents  a  Runner  contending  for  the  prize, 
completely  armed,  so  naturally  depicted  that  he  has  all  the  appearance  of 
sweating.  In  the  other  we  see  the  Runner  taking  off  his  armour,  and  can 
fancy  that  we  hear  him  panting  aloud  for  breath.3  Pliny's  word  for 
'  Runner '  is  variously  given  as  hoplites,  hoplitites,  aftd  hoplitides,  the  last 
being  characterized  by  the  Delphin  edition  as  'ridiculous.'  The  word  is 
intended  as  the  equivalent  of  the  Greek  oTrXiroSpd/zos-,  or  runner  in  full 
armour — a  form  of  contest  at  the  Olympic  Games.  The  more  detailed 
allusion  (p.  114)  shows  that  Lyly  did  not,  as  the  text  here  appears  to 
imply,  misunderstand  the  passage. 

9.  the  very  feather  of  an  Eagle,  &c. :  this  seems  to  be  Lyly's  varia 
tion  on  Pliny,  x.  4  'Aquilarum  pennae  mixtas  reliquarum  alitum  pennas 
devorant.' 

18.  the  Lappwing,  &c. :  several  times  repeated.  Cf.  '  Far  from  her 
nest  the  lapwing  cries  away,'  Com.  of  Errors,  iv.  2.  27 ;  and  Campaspe,\\. 
2.  9  'You  resemble  the  Lapwing,  who  crieth  most  where  her  neast 
is  not.' 

26.  before  his  time  .  . .  a  blind  whelp :  recalling  the  proverb  given  in 
Erasmus'  Adagia  (p.  315,  ed.  1574)  '  Canis  festinans  caecos  parit  catulos ' 
— of  undertakings  spoiled  by  undue  haste. 

28.  The  one  I  sent  to  a  noble  man,  &c. :  i.e.  to  Sir  William  West,  the 
dedicatee  of  Part  I. 

35.  countenaunce  .  .  .  continuaunce :  as  vol.  i.  p.  199  1.  22. 
P.  5,  4.  kill  it  by  cullyng'.  i.e.  by  embracing,  an  obsolete  variant 
of  coll,  probably  from  Fr.  coler  —  accoler,  to  put  the  arms  round  the  neck 
(col).  Pliny,  viii.  80  '  Simiarum  generi  praecipua  erga  foetum  affectio  . . . 
Itaque  magna  ex  parte  complectando  necant.'  Cf.  p.  139  1.  9  '  luie  about 
the  trees,  killeth  them  by  cullyng  them.' 


488  NOTES 

5.  with  the  Viper,  loose  my  bloud  with  mine  own  brood:  '  That  the 
young  vipers  force  their  way  through  the  bowels  of  their  dam,  or  that 
the  female  viper  in  the  act  of  generation  bites  off  the  head  of  the  male,  in 
revenge  where  of  the  young  ones  eat  through  the  womb  and  belly  of  the 
female,  is  a  very  ancient  tradition  .  .  .  affirmed  by  Herodotus,  Nicander, 
Pliny,  Plutarch  .  . .  from  hence  is  commonly  assigned  the  reason  why  the 
Romans  punish  parricides  by  drowning  them  in  a  sack  with  a  viper.'  Sir 
Thos.  Browne's  Vulgar  Errors,  bk.  iii.  ch.  16.  The  reference  to  Pliny  is 
x.  82.  See  note  on  p.  177  1.  19  'serpent  laculus  and  the  Uiper.' 

10.  one  pease\  a  true  singular,  from  which,  regarded  as  a  plural,  the 
mod.  Eng.  sing,  pea  has  been  formed. 

13.  The  Twinnes  of  Hippocrates :  cf.  p.  77  1. 1 8,  while  the  mention  of 
Hippocrates,  p.  73  1. 1 6,  implies,  what  is  not  necessarily  implied  here,  that 
he  was  a  painter  ;  but  none  such  is  known  to  Pliny,  Plutarch,  or  Aelian. 

18.  Accius'.  L.  Accius,  or  Attius,  the  writer  of  tragedies,  born 
170  B.  c.,  who  lived  to  know  Cicero.  Hor.  Sat.  i.  10.  53.  The  story  seems 
of  Lyly's  invention. 

21.  Vlysses  .  .  .  Shield  of  Aiax:  Iliad,  xi.  485  Aias-  8'  eyyvdev  rj\6e, 
(freptov  <TO.K.OS,  r)vre  Ttvpyov,  \  OTJ)  fie  7rape£.  Cf.  bk.  iii.  226  sqq. 

23.  hatched  in  the  hard  winter  with  the  Alcyon :    Pliny,  x.  47 
*  Foetificant  bruma,  qui  dies  halcyonides  vocantur.'     Cf.  Part  I,  Address 
to  the  Gent.  Readers  *  the  booke  that  at  Christmas  lyeth  bound  on  the 
Stacioners  stall.' 

24.  not  daring  to  bud  till  the  colde  were  past,  like  theMulbery:  Pliny, 
xvi.  41  'morus,  quae  novissima  urbanarum  germinat,  nee  nisi  exacto  frigore.' 
Cf.  p.  134  1.  34.    Two  later  editions,  also  dated  1580,  point  us  to  March  25 — 
April  1580  for  the  first,  rather  than  February — March  24,  1580-1. 

28.  Poets,  which  the  painters  faine ,  £c. ;  possibly  some  contemporary 
allegorical  picture. 

33.  water  bough :  i.  e.  fruitless.  Probably  Kentish.  Cf.  Sapho  and 
Phao,  i.  2.  41  '  Yet  hath  [the  tree]  Salurus  blasts  and  water  boughes.' 

37.  keepe  my  self  e  from  sleeps,  as  the  Crane  doth  the  stone  in  hirfoote, 
&c. :  Pliny,  x.  30  relates  of  cranes  that  '  During  the  night,  also,  they  place 
sentinels  on  guard,  each  of  which  holds  a  little  stone  in  its  claw :  if  the 
bird  should  happen  to  fall  asleep,  the  claw  becomes  relaxed,  and  the  stone 
falls  to  the  ground,  and  so  convicts  it  of  neglect '  (Bostock  and  Riley). 
Later  in  the  same  chapter  he  tells  how  they  ballast  themselves  with  coarse 
sand  when  about  to  fly  over  the  Euxine,  ejecting  it  from  their  throat  when 
the  passage  is  effected.  For  the  stone  in  mouth,  cf.  p.  176  1.  10  (note). 

P.  6,  11.  once  wet  their  feet  e,  &c. :    again  p.  105  1.  12.     The  proverb 
is  used  by  Pettie. 

14.  holde  me  -vp  by  the  chinne,  £c. :  in  Heywood's  Proverbes  (1546) 
occurs  'He  must  needes  swim  that  is  hold  up  by  the  chinne'  (p.  20, 
Reprint). 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  489 

16.  When  Bucephalus  was  painted,  &c. :  an  imaginary  occasion,  though 
a  story  about  a  life-like  horse  painted  by  Apelles  is  given  Pliny,  xxxv.  36. 

17.  when  luppiter  was  earned,  Prisius  asked . .  .  Lysippus :  it  looks 
as  if  Prisius  were  a  compositor's  error  for  Phidias,  whose  Olympian  Jove 
is  mentioned  Pliny,  xxxiv.  19,  while  the  colossal  Zeus  of  Lysippus  at 
Tarentum  is  mentioned  in  c.  18.     But  '  Phidias'  would  be  chronologically 
wrpng ;    and  *  Prisfus,'  used  in  M.  Bomb.,  may  stand  as  one  of  Lyly's 
inventions.    For  *  commend '  or  *  amend,'  cf.  below,  p.  205  1.  23,  note. 

25.  Appelles  dyed .  .  .  before  he  durst :  Pliny,  xxxv.  36  *  Apelles  had 
begun  another  Aphrodite  at  Kos,  intending  to  surpass  even  the  fame  of 
his  earlier  achievement  [the  Venus  Anadyomene],  but  when  only  a  part 
was  finished  envious  death  interposed,  and  no  one  was  found  to  finish  the 
outlines  already  traced5  (trs.  by  Misses  Sellers  and  Jex-Blake,  p.  129). 
Cf.  pp.  59  1.  25,  205  1.  13  :  again  p.  40 1.  n  of  Greek  painters  and  Jupiter. 

26.  Nichomachus  left  Tindarides :  i.  e.  Tyndaris,  as  parallel  to  Venus 
above.     Pliny,  xxxv.  36  (ad  fin.)  mentions  no  such  work  of  Nicomachus, 
but  cf.  Ael.  V.  H.  xiv.  47.    These  instances  are  repeated  p.  205  1.  13. 

27.  Timomachus  broke  off  Medea :    mentioned   Pliny,  xxxv.  40  as 
painted  in  Caesar's  time,  and  bought  by  him  for  the  temple  of  Venus 
Genetrix.     Ausonius'   I29th  Epigram   praises  its  rendering  of  mental 
conflict  in  Medea  meditating  the  death  of  her  sons,  and  Lyly's  'halfe 
coloured '  may  be  founded  on  some  misunderstanding  of  this  epigram. 

P.  7,  10.  on  stilts  with  Amphionax:  nothing  correspondent  in  the 
story  of  the  classical  Amphianax  of  Lycia  (Apoll.  ii.  I.  §  10).  Wanting 
a  parallel  to  Vulcan,  Lyly  probably  coined  the  name  from  the  latter's 
epithet  of  'Apfayvrifis. 

11.  olde  Helena:  i.e.  absolutely  beautiful.  For  the  intensive  'old' 
cf.  '  Yonder's  old  coil  at  home/  Much  Ado,  v.  2.  98  ;  '  he  should  have  old 
turning  the  key,'  Macb.  ii.  3.  2.  It  is  unconsciously  reproduced  in  the 
modern  slang  '  good  old,'  '  fine  old,'  '  high  old,'  as  epithets. 

25.  Vero  nihil  "uerius :  the  Vere  motto,  as  inscribed  under  their  coat 
of  arms,  which  occupies  the  verso  of  title-page  of  the  first  edition. 

P.  8,  1.  Ladies  and  Gentlewoemen :  ladies,  titled  and  untitled.  Cf. 
p.  185  1.  4. 

5.  Arachne  .  .  .  cloth  of  Arras,  &c. :  the  Lydian  girl  who  ventured  to 
rival  Athena  in  weaving,  and  was  transformed  by  her  into  a  spider.  Ov. 
Met.  vi.  1-145.  Cloth  of  Arras,  tapestry,  is  strictly  an  anachronism. 
Cf.  Prol.  to  Midas  l  like  Arras,  full  of  deuise.'  The  story  of  the  rainbow 
is  not  classical. 

15.  quirkes:  properly  'sharp  turns,'  'angles' ;  then  'quibbles,' '  con 
ceits,'  'flourishes'  (Whitney). 

21.  These  discourses:  i.e.  the  'sundry  pretie  discourses  of  honest 
Loue '  promised  by  the  title. 

29.  pinch  you  of:  stint  you  of. 


490  NOTES 

P.  9,  7.  bring  you  a  sleepe:  again  p.  14  1.  31,  but  not  the  origin  of 
the  adv.  'asleep,'  in  which  a-  is  shortened  for  an,  ME.  form  of '  on  sleep.' 

10.  clout:  cf. '  swathe  cloutes,3  p.  4  1.  32. 

19.  sleeke-stone,  &c. :  smoothing-stone.  Cf.  Comus,  1.  882  '  Sleeking 
her  soft  alluring  locks '  (with  a  comb).  Opposed  to  a  pebble  for  its  size 
and  weight.  Vol.  i.  219  1.  6  '  the  pure  sleeke  stone.' 

21.  course  caddis:  coarse  worsted  or  woollen  scarf.  Vol.  i.  224  1.  4 
'  Leere  and  Caddys '  were  opposed  to  '  Owches  and  Bracelettes.' 

29.  with  water:  i.e.  without  colour  in  his  brush. 

P.  10,  17.  wronge :  wrung,  squeezed  or  pinched.  If  the  ladies  find 
in  the  novel  a  reflection  on  their  own  conduct,  they  had  better  alter  the 
latter  than  blame  the  former. 

19.  too  little :  too  narrow,  so  that  it  would  not  meet  round  the  waist. 
The  stomacher  formed  the  general  front  of  the  dress,  projecting  down 
wards  and  lapping  over  the  skirt. 

20.  plights :  pleats. 

21.  garde:  trimming,  ornamental  border.     Cf.  Merck,  of  Ven.  ii.  2. 
164  '  Give  him  a  livery  more  guarded  than  his  fellows'.' 

P.  11,  10.  copwebs :  the  p  is  not  an  error  for  b.  '  Copwebbe '  occurs 
Golden  Bake,  c.  17  (R)  :  cop  being  in  this  case  shortened  for  ME.  attercop, 
spider,  from  AS.  dtor,  poison,  and  coppa,  head,  tuft,  bunch. 

13.  leapt  with  him  :  coincided  with  his  convenience. 
P.  12,  1.  the  Serpent  Porphirius :   product  of  a  tropical  imagination, 
appearing  again  p.  138  1.  25  (where  see  note). 

13.  the  olde  Hermit:  Cassander,  p.  21  1.  10,  whose  conduct  towards 
his  nephew  Callimachus  Euphues  narrates  on  shipboard. 

the  olde  Courtier:  Fidus,  the  bee-keeper  at  Canterbury,  p.  36  1.  8. 
Saturne  represents  what  is  out  of  date,  luppiter  what  is  in  fashion,  'the 
last  Louer '  being  Philautus,  who  marries  at  the  end  of  the  book. 

22.  louing  smacke  :  taste  of  love. 

P.  13,  4.  the  first  of  December,  1579,  by  our  English  Computation: 
interesting  because  the  rectification  of  the  Julian  Calendar  was  only 
undertaken  by  Gregory  XIII  in  1577,  and  the  ten  days  (which  would  alter 
this  date  to  Dec.  n)  were  not  annulled  until  the  bull  of  Feb.  13,  1582, 
which  ordained  that  the  following  5th  of  October  should  be  reckoned  as 
the  1 5th.  Lyly's  phrase  reflects  that  dislike  of  a  Papal  reform  which 
delayed  its  acceptance  in  England  till  1751,  and  is  evidence  that  the 
scheme  was  matter  of  common  talk,  if  not  of  precise  knowledge,  even 
before  the  promulgation  of  the  bull.  Ranke  says  '  the  new  calendar  was 
shewn  to  no  one,  not  even  to  the  ambassadors,  until  it  had  been  approved 
by  the  several  courts.  Gregory  then  solemnly  proclaimed  it,'  i.e.  in  1582 
(Hist,  of  the  Popes — Austin's  trs.  i.  293).  The  date  1579  is  inconsistent 
with  others  in  the  novel,  particularly  that  of  Philautus'  letter,  p.  222. 
Originally,  I  believe,  Lyly  wrote  here  1578  ;  but  altered  it  to  suit  the 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  491 

altered  date  of  issue  of  the  successive  editions  of  Part  I,  and  keep  up 
the  fiction  of  continuity.  Originally  he  had  hoped  to  issue  Part  1 1  by  the 
summer  of  1579. 

28.  Demosthenes  eloquence . .  .  Lais  beautie :  neither  of  the  courtesans 
named  Lais  was  of  the  orator's  date,  the  elder  being  contemporary  with 
the  Peloponnesian  War,  the  younger  about   fifteen  at  the  close  of  it, 
404  B.C.  ;  while  Demosthenes  was  only  born  385.     The  mistake,  and  the 
placing  him  at  Corinth,  are  probably  borrowed  from  Painter's  Palace  of 
Pleasure,   1566,  i.  15   ' Of  Lais  and  Demosthenes,'  where  'that  noble 
Philosopher'  is  represented  as  seeking  her  favours  (Aul.  Cell.  N.  A.  i.  8). 
But  cf.  Fenton's  Tragicall  Discourses,  1567,  fol.  149  rect.  'the  Grecian 
curtisan  whom  the  orator  refused  for  that  he  wolde  not  buy  his  repen- 
taunce  at  sohighe  a  rate/  where  Demosthenes  and  Lays  are  named  in 
the  margin. 

P.  14,  19.  hauing  read  the  Cooling  Carde,  £c. :  this  reference  ignores 
the  '  tenne  yeares '  subsequently  passed  by  Euphues  as  '  publyque  Reader' 
in  Athens,  vol.  i.  286  11.  26-8,  a  period  which  the  contents  of  the  Letters  of 
Part  I  and  Euphues'  retirement  to  Silixsedra,  p.  228,  forbid  us  to  place 
after  the  English  visit. 

34.  Hand  Scyrum  :  cf.  vol.  i.  232  1.  30.     Scyros  in  the  Aegean. 
36.  lewd:   properly  'unlearned,'  here  perhaps  'common';    but  the 
ordinary  sense  of '  wicked '  would  accurately  reflect  the  general  opinion, 
and  legal  status,  of  usury  in  the  time  of  Elizabeth.     Lowd,  the  reading  of 
the  first  edition,  is  unsupported  by  ME.  spelling. 

P.  15,  31.  the  Cypresse  tree,  &c. :  Pliny,  xvi.  60  has  not  these  details. 

P.  16,  1.  tedding:  to  spread  new-mown  grass  (Scand.).  'To  tedde 
and  make  hay,'  Fitzherbert,  Book  of  'Husbandry,  §  25.  Cf.  Skeat.  Same 
metaphor,  M.  Bomb.  i.  3. 187 ;  Pappe,  vol.  iii.  p.  412  1.  39. 

P.  17,  7.  Let  the  Cooke  be  thy  Phisition,  £c. :  i.  e.  make  doctor  and 
drugs  unnecessary  by  plain  cooking,  and  not  killing  ('shambles')  more 
food  than  nature  requires. 

10.  vnlesse  Galen  be  his  Cods  good:  i.e.  without  a  doctor  to  watch 
over  his  digestion.  Halliwell  suggests  for  God's  good ''a  blessing  on  the 
meal ' ;  and  that  may  indeed  be  the  thought  behind  the  application  of  the 
term  to  yeast,  as  making  bread  light  and  wholesome  (M.  Bomb.  ii.  I. 
117  '  yest,  alias  sizing,  alias  rising,  alias  Gods  good '). 

29.  renting:    rending.     Endim.   v.  3.  42  'my  rented  and  ransackt 
thoughts ' ;  also  iv.  3.  22  'rent  thy  selfe  in  peeces.' 

P.  18,  5.  Torch  tourned  downewarde,  £c. :  Rushton  quotes  as  a  re 
miniscence  of  Euphues  the  device  and  motto  of  the  Fourth  Knight  in 
Pericles,  ii.  2.  32  'A  burning  torch  that's  turned  upside  down  ;  |  The  word, 
"  Quod  me  alit,  me  extinguit " ' :  but  probably  both  Lyly  and  Shakespeare 
derive  it  from  some  common  source,  such  as  a  book  of  Emblems. 

19.  y*  hearb  Moly,  £c. :  Gallathea,  iii.  4.  24-5  Mike  Homers  Moly, 


492  NOTES 

a  white  leafe  &  a  blacke  roote,  a  faire  shewe,  and  a  bitter  taste.'    p.5>\v  is 
the  herb  given  by  Hermes  to  Odysseus  as  an  antidote  against  Circe's 

spells,   in    Odyss.   X.    302-6    pi£iy  fj.ev   peXav   etrKf,  ydXaKTt  de  et/ceXoj/  av6os. 
Again  p.  78  1.  7. 

P.  19,  4.  Aegyptians  .  .  .  beast  full  of  spots.  Plut.  Quaesf.  Conviv. 
vii.  4  says  that  each  Egyptian  household  supports  one  representative  of 
the  kind  of  animal  chosen  for  worship  :  '  full  of  spots '  refers  to  Apis.  See 
note  on  '  their  spotted  God/  p.  24  1.  22. 

12.  reduce:  bring  back.  Whitney  quotes  several  instances,  e.g. 
Rich.  ///,  v.  5.  36  *  (traitors)  That  would  reduce  these  bloody  days 
again.' 

P.  20,  7.  grisping'.  Halliwell  says  it  is  the  same  as  '  griginge} 
which  means  '  dawn,'  '  opening,'  '  twilight,'  quoting  '  To  the  grygynge  of 
the  daye,  that  byrdes  gane  synge/  Morte  Arthure,  MS.  Lincoln,  fol.  80 ; 
but  no  instance  of  grisping. 

15.  Mouse  sleeping  in  a  Cattes  eare:  recalling  the  proverb  'It  is 
a  wilie  Mouse  that  will  breede  in  the  Cats  eare,'  which  Lyly  uses,  Gallathea, 
iv.  i.  45. 

22.  hungerlye :  '  I  feed  |  Most  hungerly  on  your  sight.'  Tim.  of  Ath. 
i.  I.  261  (Whitney). 

27.  -wilde:  'bold.'  Cf.  p.  43  1.  23  cye  wildnes  of  ye  Wolf  specified 
just  before  as  '  boldnes/ 

32.  shearing  vp :  '  shoar '  is  given  by  Whitney  as  an  obsolete  spelling 
of  '  shore,'  to  support,  or  prop.  As  he  sits  the  old  man  rests  his  elbow 
on  his  knee  and  peers  at  his  visitor  from  underneath  his  hand,  an  action 
appropriate  to  the  mention  of  the  sun,  whose  setting  light  dazzles  him. 
My  suggestion  '  Isis('}  son'  would  be  the  same  in  effect  as  'yis  sonne,3 
Horus  being  equivalent  to  the  Greek  Apollo.  Cf.  Hdt.  ii.  144,  156. 

P.  21,  14.  beare  a  white  mouth,  &c. :  i.  e.  be  submissive,  cease  to 
chafe  and  bloody  the  bit.  See  note  on  vol.  i.  181  1.  16,  and  p.  224  1.  36 
'  w*  a  gentle  rayne  they  will  beare  a  white  mouth.' 

22.  make  a  Cosinne  of:  i.e.  to  cosen.     Merely  a  pun. 

P.  22,  4.  the  Palme  Persian  Fig  tree,  &c. :  so  all  eds. ;  the  probable 
explanation  being  that  Lyly  first  wrote  '  Palme '  and  then,  changing  his 
mind,  '  Persian  Fig  tree,'  forgetting  to  erase  '  Palme.'  The  statement 
about  figs  and  apples  has  probably  no  better  origin  than  the  opening 
words  of  Pliny,  xv.  19  'E  reliquo  genere  pomorum  ficus  amplis- 
sima  est.' 

9.  breath  of  the  Lyon,  engendreth  . .  .  Serpent .  .  .  Ant :  Pliny,  xi.  115, 
merely  says  '  Animae  leonis  virus  grave.' 

11.  Darnell:  lolium,  a  weed  that  grows  among  corn,  as  in  King 
Lear,  iv.  4.  5. 

12.  to  blast :  '  wither,'  or  '  fall  under  a  blight.'     Cf.  N.  E.  D.  s.  v. 
21.  Dedalus  . . .  Monsters:  Hyg.  Fab.  40. 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  493 

24.  Painter  Tamantes :  for  '  Timanthes '  again  p.  178 1.  23.  The  ref. 
is  Pliny,  xxxv.  36  (73  in  Sellers'  and  Jex-Blake's  trs.). 

36.  staineth'.  dims,  makes  inferior.    Vol.  i.  199  1.  29  of  the  ruby. 
P.  23,  7.  Roscius  .  .  .  dumbe  when  he  dined  with  Cato :    I  know  of 
no  authority  for  this.     Cato  the  Elder  must  be  meant,  whose  eloquence  is 
noted  near  the  beginning  of  Plutarch's  Life. 

21.  crooked  trees  proue  good  Cammocks:   see  note,  vol.  i.  196  1.  I. 
Cammock,   ME.    kambok,    LL.    cambuca,   crook,   hockey-   or   golf-stick 
(Strutt,  Sports,  &c.,  bk.  ii.  p.  81,  ed.  1801). 

23.  youthlyi  cf.  vol.  i.  pp.  194  1.  7,  250  1.  28. 

28.  the  greatest  Clearkes,  &c. :. '  The  gretteste  clerkes  been  noght  the 
wysest  men,'  Chaucer's  Reves  Tale,  4054  ;  and  Hey  wood's  Proverbes, 
1546,  p.  115  reprint  (Bartlett).  Cf.  Campaspe,  i.  3.  9. 

P.  24,  1.  Euidences  for  land',  title-deeds.  Whitney  quotes  Webster, 
Devil's  Law  Case,  i.  i  '  I  sent  you  the  evidence  of  the  piece  of  land  I 
motion'd  to  you  for  the  sale.' 

3.  timpany  :  a  kind  of  dropsy,  in  which  the  stomach  is  stretched  tight 
like  a  drum,  Gk.  ru/zTraWa?.     Dryden,  Mac  Flecknoe,  194,  where  Shadwell's 
1  mountain  belly '  is  dubbed  *  a  tympany  of  sense,'  meaning  '  empty  of 
sense'  (Skeat)— but  also  with  allusion  to  the  disease. 

4.  Angels:  gold  coin  worth  about  ios.,  of  course  with  pun  on  the 
original  sense   'messenger,'  and  the   intermediate  religious    sense:    cf. 
*  sunke  into  Hell  for  pride,'  below. 

18.  Creete  .  .  .  lye  .  .for  the  whetstone,  &c.:  Ov.  Ars  Am.  i.  298 
'  mendax  Creta.'  To  give,  deserve,  or  win  the  whetstone  are  old  pro 
verbs  which  represent  the  whetstone  as  the  prize  for  lying.  Confirmed 
liars  or  slanderers  were  sometimes  publicly  exhibited  with  a  whetstone 
fastened  to  them.  Cf.  '  libels,  calumnies,  slanders,  lies  for  the  whetstone, 
what  not/  Gab.  Harvey's  Foitr  Letters.  Bacon,  hearing  Sir  Kenelm 
Digby  tell  King  James  that  he  had  seen  the  philosopher's  stone  in  Italy, 
is  said  to  have  remarked,  *  Perhaps  it  was  a  whetstone '  (Whitney).  The 
series  of  foreign  faults  acquired  is  much  the  same  as  those  boasted  by 
Euphues,  vol.  i.  186  11.  18-22. 

22.  Aegypt .  .  .  their  spotted  God,  at  Memphis  :  the  Sacred  Bull,  Apis, 
whose  temple  was  at  Memphis.     Pliny,  viii.  71   'Bos  in  Aegypto  etiam 
numinis  vice  colitur,  Apim  vocant.     Insigne  ei,  in  dextro  latere  candicans 
macula,  cornibus  Lunae  crescere  incipientis.     Nodus  sub  lingua,  quem 
cantharum  appellant  .  . .  Inventus  deducitur  Memphim  a  sacerdotibus. 
Delubra  ei  gemina,'  £c.     Herodotus'  account  of  the  marks,  iii.  28,  differs 
slightly.     Cf.  above,  p.  19  1.  5  '  beast  full  of  spots.' 

31.  a  crosse\   many  coins  were  marked  with  the  cross  on  one  side. 
P.  25,  14.   recorde  with  thyself',   remember.     The  same   Latinism, 
p.  35  1.  19,  vol.  i.  303  1.  31. 

24.  Byrde  Acanthis  ,  .  .  thistles :    the  bird  Acanthis  (gold-finch)  is 


494  NOTES 

spoken  of  by  Pliny,  x.  83,  but  the  passage  Lyly  has  in  mind  is  probably 
xxv.  1 06,  where  to  the  plant  *  erigeron '  are  attributed  the  further  names 
'  acanthis  '  and  'pappus  '  =  thistledown. 

27.  Homer .  . .  Snayle  .  .  .  Toad . .  .  stoole :  in  reality  these  curious 
facts  in  natural  history  seem  to  have  escaped  Homer. 

33.  Vlysses  .  .  .  smoake,  £c.  I  Od.  i.  58  avrap  'Odvo-o-evs  \  itpfvos  KOL 
Karrvbv  dirodpfovKovra  voijcrai  \  T/S  yairjs,  Qaveciv  ipeipcrtu. 

37.  Gothes  . . .  rootes  in  Alexandria,  £c.  :  the  Goths  shared  the  revolt 
and  defeat  of  Procopius  A.D.  366,  and  were  distributed  as  captives  among 
towns  of  the  East.  For  Barbary  generally,  as  the  country  of  Barbarians, 
cf.  Phil.  Holland's  Plutarch's  Moralia,  p.  1032.  Their  real  habitat  was 
the  Ukraine,  southern  Russia  and  central  Europe,  and,  originally,  the 
shores  of  the  Baltic. 

P.  26, 12.  espials  :  spies,  and  p.  31 1.  5,  from  ME.  verb  espy  en.    Hamlet, 
iii.  i.  32.     Cf.  N.  E.  D. 

P.  27,  17.  Father  or  friend :  so  Euphues  to  Eubulus,  vol.  i.  190. 
P.  28,  2.  y  :  wherewith. 

12.  bodkin :  dagger,  cf.  vol.  i.  256  1.  13,  and  Hamlet,  iii.  I.  76. 

25.  rase :  scraping,  remnant :  but  I  find  no  such  use  quoted,  and  it 
may  be  explained  as  race,  course  of  life. 

creepe  into  the  ground',  i.e.  retreat  inward,  as  moisture  seems  to 
do  before  frost,  with  further  allusion,  perhaps,  to  '  sinking  into  the  grave.' 

27.  of  Alexanders  minde,  &c.  :    Plut.  De  Tranquillitate  Animi,  c.  4 
'Ava£apxov  Trept  Kooyi<Bi>  arreipias  anovvv  eftaKpve  .  . .  OVK  af-tov,  e'0^, 
,  et  Kofr/iwi'  ovTtov  arret'pcoz/j  evbs  ouSeVrco  Kvpioi  yeyovap-ev;  Camp.\\\.^.  19. 

30.  neither  penny  nor  Pater  noster:  i.  e.  neither  gifts  nor  prayers. 

35.  camming  home  by  weeping  crosse :  Nares  quotes,  among  other 
instances  of  this  proverb  for  repentance,  Wither's  Prince  Henries 
Obsequies,  1612  'And  doe  my  pennance  at  the  weeping  crosse,'  and 
mentions  three  places  which  retain  such  a  name,  (i)  between  Oxford  and 
Banbury,  (2)  near  Stafford,  where  the  road  branches  to  Walsall,  (3)  near 
Shrewsbury. 

P.  29, 18.  penniles  bench :  Nares  quotes  Massinger's  City  Madam,  iv.  i 
*  Bid  him  bear  up,  he  shall  not  |  Sit  long  on  penniless  bench,'  and  adds 
that  this  name  was  given  to  a  seat  for  loungers  under  a  wooden  canopy  at 
the  east  end  of  old  Carfax  Church.  Cf.  Wood's  Antiquities  of  Oxford 
(ed.  Clark),  i.  221,  477  ;  ii.  86.  Even  the  later  Carfax  Church  is  now 
(1899)  gone,  though  the  tower  remains. 

19.  Chirurgian\  OF.  cirurgien,  later  serurgien,  zw\\x.  surgien.    The 
prodigal  needs  him  to  cure  wounds  received  in  quarrel. 

P.  31,  10.  Be  not  quarrellous  for  euery  lyght  occasioji :  for  the  resem 
blance  to  Polonius'  advice,  see  Intro.  Essay,  vol.  i.  p.  165. 

20.  seldome:  rare  as  adjective.     Shaksp.  Sonnet  52  'the  fine  point 
of  seldom  pleasure.' 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  495 

27.  hauing  no  worse  Author  then  Ccesar:  from  whose  De  Bell.  Gall. 
v.  12-14,  tne  following  page  '  the  inner  parte  of  Brittaine  .  .  .  and  the 
vpperlippe  '  is  literally  translated,  with  the  omission  of  a  few  lines.   Lyly's 
few  errors  or  departures  are  noted  separately. 

35.  rings  of  Iron :  Caesar  says,  '  taleis  ferrets*  sticks   or  bars   of 
iron. 

36.  sised:  Caesar,  *txamincftis}$t<yt&examen,  the  tongue  of  a  balance. 
The  verb  '  to  size '  means  to  regulate  the  weight.    J.  Speed,  translating 
the  same  passage  of  Caesar  in  his  Hist.  Great  Britain  (p.  169,  ed.  1650), 
says  '  iron  rings  sized  at  a  certaine  waight.'    A  '  sizar '  at  the  universities 
was  a  student  who  received  an  allowance  of  food  or  drink. 

P.  32,  1.  tinne  :  'plumbum  album '  in  Caesar,  who  probably  meant  that 
tin  is  found  near  the  coast,  and  iron  in  the  interior,  though  he  says  the 
contrary. 

2.  occupy :  use  in  manufacture,  as  vol.  i.  196  1.  II '  Beeche  is  easier  to 
be  carued  and  occupyed.' 

7.  nethermore  :  Caes.  *  inferior?  The  Land's  End  or  Lizard  is  meant. 
'  Nethermore,' '  nethermost,'  are  falsely  built  on  the  comparative  *  nether.' 
No  other  instance  is  quoted  except  Longfellow's  translation  of  Dante,  Inf. 
iii.  41  *  the  nethermore  abyss.' 

10.  the  cut  betweene  them  :  Caes.  '  trawmissus.' 

12.  Island  called  Man  :  Lyly  omits  Caesar's  mention  of  many  smaller 
islands,  which  are  said  to  have,  in  winter,  a  continuous  night  of  thirty  days' 
duration. 

18.  Kentish  men  are  most  dullest :  Lyly's  county.  Cf.  2  Henry  VI, 
iv.  7.  65  '  Kent,  in  the  Commentaries  Caesar  writ,  Is  termed  the  civil'st 
place  of  all  this  isle.' 

21.  sow  come :    Lyly  followed  the  reading  conserunt :    the  better 
reading  is  non  serunt. 

22.  in  lether  :  Lyly's  substitute  for  Caesar's  '  pellibus? 

28.  then :  i.  e.  in  Caesar's  time. 

SO.  a  thousand  yeares:  Caesar's  invasion  54  B.C.  is  more  than  1600 
years  before  Euphues'  lucubration,  but  we  have  had  previous  evidence 
that  Lyly  regarded  exact  chronology  as  slavish. 

33.  Yet  do  I  meane .  .  .to  draw  the  whole  discription,  &c. :  a  promise 
fulfilled  in  the  '  Glasse  for  Europe,'  pp.  191-203. 

37.  tell  what  wood  the  ship  was  made  of:  explained  by  Mr.  P.  A. 
Daniel  (Trans.  New  Sh.  Soc.  1887-92,  Part  II,  p.  268)  as  a  jocular  ex 
planation  of  the  motive  of  a  seasick  passenger  in  leaning  over  the  vessel's 
side.     In  the  doubtful  Cromwell,  ii.  2,  the  question  is  put  to  the  seasick 
Hodge  by  the  sailors :  and  cf.  Armin's  Nest  of  Ninnies,  p.  18,  ed.  Collier, 
Sh.  Soc.,  '  Jemy  stood  fearful  of  every  calme  billow,  where  it  was  no  boote 
to  bid  him  tell  what  the  ship  was  made  of,  for  he  did  it  deuoutly.' 

P.  33,  4.     In  fayth,  &c. :   against  this  paragraph  is  written  in  M  in 


496  NOTES 

a  contemporary  hand  'the  forme  of  this  booke  is  contayned  in  three  voluns 
wch  I  wil  not  speake  of  tyou.' 

10..  an  appetite,  it  iver  best,  £c.  :  i.  e.  an  instinct  that  it  were,  &c. 

16.  making  more  of  a  soare  then  a  plaister ;  preferring  the  disease  to 
the  remedy. 

35.  a  searcloth,  &c. :  i.e.'  cerecloth,'  waxed  linen  used  as  a  shroud. 
Merck,  of  Ven.  ii.  7.  51  '  (lead)  were  too  gross  |  To  rib  her  cerecloth  in  the 
obscure  grave.' 

P.  34,  3.  teem:  keen.  Vol.  i.  184  1.  30  '  the  teenest  Rasor.'  Ed.  1597 
substitutes  'keen.' 

4.  ymping :  of  repairing  the  broken  wing  of  a  falcon.  Cf.  William 
Basse's  Metamorphosis  of  the  Wallnut  Tree,  ii.  15  '  On  his  sad  wings, 
with  sweet  encouragement  |  Thus  strongly  ymp'd.' 

7.  she  vpon  whome  .  .  .  thou  harpest :  some  unnamed  love  that 
'possessed  the  interregnum  of  Philautus'  'breast'  between  Lucilla  of 
Part  I  and  Camilla  of  Part  II.  Cf.  p.  156  1.  4  'thy  sweete  heart  now  in 
Naples.' 

9.  wring:  pinch,  gall,  as  p.  lo  1.  17.  A  false  saddle  is  one  that  does 
not  sit  true. 

19.  eight  weekes  :  between  Naples  and  Dover;  whereas  the  modern 
Englishman  voyages  from  London  to  Adelaide  in  four!  The  delays 
incidental  at  this  date  may  be  abundantly  illustrated  from  the  miscarriage 
of  Spanish  expeditions  against  England  after  the  Armada.  Euphues, 
however,  returns  with  '  a  merrye  winde '  from  Dover  to  Athens  '  within 
fewe  dayes,'  p.  188  1.  35,  and  see  p.  193  1.  31  (note). 

23.  sights  in  ye  elemet ;  i.  e.  the  air.  Cf.  '  fine  impressions  in  the 
Elemente,'  vol.  i.  293  1.  23. 

25.  boarding :  by  privateers. 

31.  markes  :  buoys. 

goulfes:  whirlpools.  Cf.  'fell  Charybdis  goulfe,'  Turbervile,  Pyn- 
dards  answer  to  Ty metes  (Skeat). 

P.  35,  6.  Castle  . .  .  lulius  Caesar  did  enter:  Hasted's  Hist,  of  Kent, 
iv.  57  rejects  the  common  tradition  that  Julius  Caesar  built  Dover  Castle  ; 
and  Caesar  would  have  mentioned  any  existing  fort. 

9.  bayte :  halt  or  stoppage,  properly  the  bite  taken  by  a  traveller  at 
an  inn,  cf.  vol.  i.  323  1.  9.  Cf.  N.  E.  D. 

12.  shake  his  eares :  here  evidently  akin  to  pricking  up  his  ears — 
'  bestir  himself.'  The  only  instance  in  N.  E.  D.  which  bears  the  idea  of 
preparation  is  '  Shooke  mine  eares  And  lickt  my  lipps,  as  if  I  begg'd 
attention.'  Chapman's  Mons.  d?  Olive,  ii  (D.),  1606. 

19.  recorded:  recalled,  as  p.  25  1.  14,  vol.  i.  303  1.  31. 

22.  Pyre:  pier.  On  Aug.  18,  1579,  probably  shortly  after  this  was 
written,  we.  find  Commissioners  for  the  repair  of  Dover  haven  writing  to 
the  Council  about  plans  for  such  repair  at  an  estimated  cost  of  ,£21,000, 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  497 

and  the  subject  occupies  much  attention  in  succeeding  years.     {Calendar 
of  State  Papers,  Domestic,  1547-1580,  1581-90.) 

29.  point  to  any  fortres,  &c. :  this  excessive  caution  (cf.  Euphues' 
advice,  p.  31,  and  Fidus'  reserve,  p.  38)  reflects,  the  contemporary 
suspicion  of  foreigners  in  England,  and  may  be  illustrated  by  Carisophus' 
accusation  of  the  stranger  Damon  at  the  Court  of  Dionysius  in  Richard 
Edwardes'  Damon  and  Pythias,  lie.  1567  (pp.  35,  36,  39  of  vol.  iv  in 
Hazlitt's  Dodsley).  Damon  remarks  '  a  pleasant  city  ;  the  seat  is  good, 
and  yet  not  strong ;  and  that  is  great  pity,'  whereupon  Carisophus  says 
aside  '  I  am  safe  ;  he  is  mine  own.' 

P.  37,  20.  glue  our  eyes  to  oureares  :  make  them  of  a  piece,  make  obser 
vation  and  report  agree. 

24.  brute',  bruit. 

P.  38, 12.  meane  to  derogate  . . .  mines  of  the  place',  to  allow  the  un  worthi 
ness  of  my  poor  roof  to  colour  your  report  of  the  queen— though  the  notion 
is  extremely  strained. 

16.  Alexander  .  .  .  painted  of  none  but  Appelles,  &c. :  Pliny,  vii.  38 
'  Idem  hie  imperator  edixit,  ne  quis  alius,  quam  Apelles,  pingeret  ;  quam 
Pyrgoteles,  sculperet:  quam  Lysippus,  ex  aere  duceret' :  referred  to  again, 
pp.  73  1.  15,  77  1.  20,  204  1.  10.  Cf.  Hor.  Epp.  ii.  I.  239-40. 

20.  draweth  a  vale,  &c. :  alluding  to  Pliny's  story  (xxxv.  36)  about 
Timanthes,  given  p.  22  1.  24. 

P.  39,  4.  Ctzsar  .  .  .  alledging .  .  .  bright  Sunne,  &c. :  not  in  Plutarch's 
Life  nor  in  the  Reg.  et  Imp.  Apophthegmata.  Lyly  probably  founds  it  on 
the  popular  character  of  Caesar's,  other  sayings  and  doings. 

7.  Agesilaus  sonne,  &c. :  founded  on  a  story  put  into  Thales'  mouth 
in  Plutarch's  Septem  Sapientium  Convivium,  c.  3 ;  and  told  also  in 
Apophtheg.  Laconica  not  of  Agesilaus'  son,  Archidamus,  but  (in  close 
proximity)  of  Damonidas,  whose  comment  on  the  low  place  assigned  him 
was  *  thou  hast  found  the  means  to  make  this  place  honourable  which 
heretofore  was  but  base'  (Holland's  trs.  1602). 

P.  40,  11.   olde  paynters  in  Greece,   &c. :   adapted  from  what  Pliny 
(xxxv.  36)  says  of  Apelles  in  regard  to  Venus  ;  cf.  note  on  p.  6  1.  25. 
33.  malice  to  reuenge :  others'  malice  calling  for  retaliation. 

P.  41,  23.  I  malice  you',  cf.  p.  139  1.  18  'I  malyce  none.' 

25.  to  reason  of  Kings  or  Princes  .  . .  mislyked  ofye  wise:  e.  g.  Plut. 
De  Curiositate,  though  none  of  Lyly's  illustrations  here  are  to  be  found 
there. 

28.  beads  .  .  .  bookes :  Protestantism  sacrificed  to  alliteration. 

31.  things  above  vs,  are  not  for  vs :  translating  the  adage  '  Qiiae  supra 
nos,  nihil  ad  nos'  of  vol.  i.  195  1.  26. 

P.  42,  1.  peeuish  :  foolish,  as  vol.  i.  190  1.  23,  &c. 

2.  Satirus,&LC.i  Fabulae  Aesopicae  (Lyons,  1571),  No.  403,  De  Satyr o 
et  Igne.  Again  Camp.  iii.  5.  18. 

BOND   II  K    K 


498  NOTES 

9.  Appelles  answere  to  Alexander  :  not  in  Pliny  or  Plutarch,  but  pro 
bably  founded  by  Lyly  on  Pliny,  xxxv.  36. 

20.  shadowes'.  paintings. 

35.  Alexander  .  .  .  Olympia:  from  Plutarch's  Reg.  et  Imperat. 
Apophtheg.  Alex.  2,  but  of  running  not  wrestling. 

P.  43,  3.  a  Caunterbury  tale  :  synonym  for  an  invention  ;  so  in  Greene's 
Menaphon,  p.  54  (ed.  Arber).  Lyly's  uncertainty  is  probably  affected :  it  is 
not  in  Aesop,  ed.  Lyons,  1571. 

23.  wildnes  of  ye  Wolf:  p.  20  1.  27,  a  mouse  is  said  to  be  'verye 
wilde  '  in  venturing  near  a  cat. 

P.  44,  3.  lyst\  inclination,  as  p.  103  1.  12,  and  vol.  i.  201  1.  17,  and 
Othello,  ii.  i.  105  'have  list  to  sleep  ' ;  but  not  common  as  sb. 

13.  this  twenty  yeares  :  not  enough  ;  for  Fidus  is  old,  the  Court  which 
he  knew  as  a  young  man  of  20-30  is  specified  as  that  of  Henry  VIII 
(p.  48  1.  36),  and  he  forsook  it  and  retired  to  Canterbury  immediately  on 
his  disappointment  (p.  Sol.  i). 

14.  my  Bees',  this  description,  on  which  Shakespeare  probably  based 
his  in  Henry  V,  i.  2,  is  freely  transcribed  from  Pliny,  xi.  ch.  4-22,  supple 
mented  perhaps  by  Lyly's  own  observation.     Pliny  says  nothing  about 
the  suicide  of  the  unwittingly  disobedient,  nor  about  their  Parliament, 
except  '  convocantur,'  c.  22. 

21.  in  a  swarme\  Pliny,  xi.  4  'nihil  novere,  nisi  commune.' 

26.  the  sound .  .  .  the  consent :  opposed  as  mere  noise  to  harmony. 
Pliny,  xi.  22  merely  says  '  Gaudent  plausu  atque  tinnitu  aeris,  eoque 
convocantur.' 

28.  a  King,  -whose  pallace,  &c.  :  Pliny,  xi.  12  '  Regias  imperatoribus 
futuris  in  ima  parte  alvei  exstruunt  amplas,  magnificas,  separatas,  tuber- 
culo  eminentes.' — c.  17  '  Mira  plebei  circa  eum  obedientia.  Cum  pro- 
cedit,  una  est  totum  examen,  circaque  eum  globatur,  cingit,  protegit,  cerni 
non  patitur.  Reliquo  tempore,  cum  populus  in  labore  est,  ipse  opera 
intus  circuit,  similis  exhortanti,  solus  immunis.  Circa  eum  satellites  qui- 
dam  lictoresque,  assidui  custodes  auctoritatis.'  (See  below,  '  The  Kyng 
him-selfe  not  idle  .  .  .  due  seueritie.')  c.  18  '  Fessum  humeris  sublevant : 
validius  fatigatum  ex  toto  portant.'  c.  20  '  Rege  consumto  maeret  plebs 
ignavo  dolore,  non  cibos  convehens,  non  procedens,  tristi  tantum  murmure 
glomeratur  circa  corpus  eius.' 

P.  45,  7.  sting,  'which  hee  vseth  rather  for  honour  then  punishment : 
Pliny,  xi.  17  '  Illud  constat,  imperatorem  aculeo  non  uti.'  Lyly  is  think 
ing  perhaps  of  a  sword  in  Elizabeth's  hand. 

18.  Euery  one  hath  his  office,  &c. :  Pliny,  xi.  10  '  Sunt  enim  intus  quo- 
que  officia  divisa.  Aliae  struunt,  aliae  poliunt,  aliae  suggerunt,  aliae  cibum 
comparant  ex  eo,  quod  allatum  est.' 

23.  drones:  Pliny,  xi.  II  deals  with  these. 

25.  as  lyuing  in  a  camps  :  Pliny,  xi.  10  '  castrorum  more 3  of  the  signal 
for  repose. 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  499 

26.  they  neuer  ingender  :  Pliny,  xi.  16  c  Apium  coitus  visus  est  nun- 
quam.'  It  takes  place  on  the  wing. 

29.  When  they  go  forth  . . .  so  great  burthens :  Pliny,  xi.  10  '  Praedi- 
vinant  enim  ventos  imbresque,  et  se  continent  tectis.     Itaque  temperie 
caeli  (et  hoc  inter  praescita  habent)  cum  agmen  ad  opera  processit,  aliae 
flores  aggerunt  pedibus,  aliae  aquam  ore,  guttasque  lanugine  totius  corporis 
.  .  .  totaeque  onustae  remeant  sarcina  pandatae.     Excipiunt  eas  ternae, 
quaternaeque,  et  exonerant.' 

30.  threaten  either  their  mine,  or  raign  :    antithesis  of  form,  not 
sense;  a  mere  play  on  the  double  sense  of  threaten  as  'portend'  and 
*  menace ' — but  a  good  instance  of  the  educative  value  of  Euphuism  for  the 
exact  force  of  words. 

31.  loden  :  i.  e.  '  loaden,'  the  verb  being  a  variant  of  lade. 

35.  a  sequel',  subordinate,  one  who  follows  in  rank.  Surrey  uses  it 
for '  descendants.' 

P.  46, 2.  profitable  . . .  vnto  man  :  Pliny,  xi.  4 '  Apibus  solis  ex  eo  genere 
hominum  causa  genitis.  Mella  contrahunt .  .  .  favos  confingunt  et  ceras, 
mille  ad  usus  vitae.' 

30.  hand  betweene  .  .  .  barke  and  tree :  where  is  no  room  for  it.  In 
H ey wood's  Proverbes,  1562,  of  interference  between  man  and  wife. 

P.  47, 16.  no grauge,  biityeeldeth  euery  thing',  either graunge  is  opposed, 
as  a  lonely  farm  (cf.  Othello,  i.  i.  107),  or  a  granary  which  jealously  held 
the  grain  paid  as  tithe,  to  a  well-stocked  town ;  or  else  '  in '  has  dropped 
out  before  England. 
P.  48,  2.  Fistula  :  abscess. 

14.  no  force:  i.e.  no  matter,  abbreviated  from  'it  makes  no  force.5 
'  I  force  not  thy  friendship,'  p.  94  1.  24,  means  '  make  of  no  force  or  impor 
tance,'  'care  not  for.'  Cf.  vol.  i.  225  1.  31,  note. 

23.  not  by  the  Market  folkes,  but  his  cwne  foote-steppes  :  not  by  hear 
say,  but  experience.  Proverb  from  one  who  walks  to  estimate  the  value 
of  a  harvest  for  himself.  Child  sees  a  pun  in  Corne  oxAfootesteppes. 

25.  put  me  out  of  conceipt :  divert  my  thoughts. 
P.  49, 16.  the  -wylde  of  Kent',  i.  e.  the  Weald.     See  Life,  p.  2. 

29.  but  Honnie  Moone:    as  a  time  of  thoughtless  inexperience,  in 
Heywood's  Proverbes  (Reprint,  p.  28). 

P.  50,  16.  riinne  at  the  tilt',  not  yet  an  anachronism.  Sir  Philip  Sidney 
and  others  figured  in  a  tournament  given  in  the  tilt-yard  at  Whitehall  to 
entertain  Anjou's  ambassador,  May,  1581.  Cf.  Endimion,  v.  i.  61  '  lustes, 
turneys ' ;  and  the  Tilt-yard  Speeches  on  Accession-day  in  vol.  i. 

30.  angle  for  the  Tortois :    i.  e.  turtle,  absurdly  attributing  to  the 
sailor  the  inertia  which  allows  the  creature  to  be  taken.     Pliny,  ix.  12, 
quoted  in  note  on  p.  164.     Cf.  xxxii.  14. 

31.  lythernesse'.    idleness,   languor,   properly  wickedness,    fr.  AS. 
lythre,  bad.    Northbrook  has  '  sloth,  lithernesse,  ceasing  from  occupation.' 

K  k  2 


500  NOTES 

36.  the  Uiper  tyed  to  .  .  .  the  Beech :  Plut.  Quaest.  Conviv.  ii.  7 
exiftvav  Sf,  (frrjyov  K\o)viov  eai/  irpoo-aydyrjs  Kal  diyrjs,  lOTTjirtV,  Pliny  mentions 
their  torpor  underground  (viii.  59). 

P.  51,  1.  make  the  teeth  an  edge',  i.e.  'on  edge,'  an  being  the  ME. 
form  of '  on,'  used  here  before  another  vowel  instead  of  the  usual  abbre 
viation  a-,  seen  in  *  asleep  '  =  '  on  sleep.' 

3.  contemplature :  cf.  N.  E.  D.  s.v.  Contemplatiue,  the  reading  of 
E  rest,  is  inadmissible,  being  found  only  of  persons,  like  '  Religious.' 

17.  Buglosse  into  wine,  £c. :  i.e.  borage,  still  used  in  cider-cup, 
claret-cup,  £c.  Pliny,  xxv.  40  '  In  vinum  deiecta  animi  voluptates  auget, 
et  vocatur  euphrosynum.' 

20.  fetching  a  windlesse,  &c. :  windlesse  or  windlass  is  a  winding, 
a  circuit.  ME.  windels.  Whitney  quotes  '  bidding  them  fetche  a  wind- 
lasse  a  great  waye  about.'  Golding's  trans,  of  Caesar,  fol.  206. 

26.  But  he  so  eger,  £c. :  referring  to  Philautus,  as  Arber  points  out. 

28.  coting  in  the  margant :  to  cote,  or  quote,  is  not  (from  Fr.  cote] 
1  to  put  by  the  side  of,'  but  from  OF.  quoter  (mod.  F.  coter),  and  LL. 
quotare,  '  to  say  how  many]  to  mark  off  into  chapter  and  verse  (Skeat). 
Cf.  '  coting  of  ye  scriptures/  p.  93  1.  33. 

P.  52,  10.  if  not  euery  one  of  them,  yet  all',  if  not  each  of  them 
severally,  yet  all  collectively.  P.  57  1.  36  'euerye  of  them'  =  'each  of 
them.'  P.  192  1.  29  '  Ministers  in  euery  of  their  Seas.' 

12.  poyson  Antidotum,  &c. :  nonsense,  repeated  of  '  gyllt,'  p.  71  1.  3. 

20.  To  lone  and  to  lyue  well .  .  .  incident  to  f ewe  :  '  Amare  et  sapere 
vix  adeo  conceditur,'  Publ.  Syrus,  i.  22. 

21.  indifferent  to  all:  the  antithesis  to  'wished  of  many'  requires  us 
to  interpret  as  '  an  object  to  which  all  are  indifferent ' ;  but  I  think  Lyly 
also  means  '  allowed  impartially  to  all.' 

28.  weare  tJie  eie  of  a  wesill  in  a  ring :  obvious  nonsense.  Pliny, 
xxix.  1 6,  mentions  some  remedies  derived  from  the  weasel. 

81.  ielous  wil  suspecteth'.  the  predisposition  to  jealousy  causes  sus 
picion.  I  retain  the  reading  of  the  earliest  editions,  which  yields  sense. 

33.  the  Ladies  themselues  .  .  .  no  true  seruaunt :  borrowed  from  The 
DiaU  of  Princes,  ii.  16,  fol.  in,  ed.  1568,  quoted  in  notes  to  vol.  i.  249. 

36.  Apprentice  seruing  seatten  yeares  :  the  regular  period.  '  Appren 
ticeship'  has  actually  been  used  as  a  synonym  for  seven  years. 

P.  53,  12.   striued'.  Romans  xv.  20  'so  have  I  strived  to  preach  the 
Gospel.' 

28.  a  young  Gentleman  .  .  .  Duchesse  of  Millayne  .  .  .  a  poore  yeoman 
.  .  .fairest  Lady  m  Mantua :  I  find  no  source  for  these ;  and  Mr.  P.  A. 
Daniel  tells  me  he  looked  through  Bandello  and  Cinthio  in  vain.  In 
default  of  other  source  I  suggest  that  the  two  stories  may  have  formed  the 
substance  of  'A  History  of  the  Duke  of  Millayn  and  the  Marques  of 
Mantua  shewed  at  Whitehall  on  St.  Stephens  daie  at  nighte  enacted  by 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  501 

the  Lord  Chamberlayne's  servantes,'  as  stated  in  the  Revels  Accounts  for 
Nov.  I,  1579,  to  Nov.  i,  1580  (Cunningham's  Extracts,  p.  154). 

35.  my  Lady  .  .  .  call  hir  Iffida :  i.  e.  perhaps  In-fida,  implying  her 
negative  to  Fidus  ;  but  the  name  is  given  to  a  Turkish  heroine,  who  dies 
in  wild  grief  for  her  parents'  loss,  in  the  Spanish  romance  of  Palmendos 
or  Primaleon  of  Greece  (1524),  c.  25.  There  was  a  Fr.  transl.  1550,  an 
Italian  1559,  but  no  English  before  A.  Munday's  1589. 

P.  54,  6.  the  Gentleman  where  my  Iffida  lay  :  her  uncle,  as  appears  on 
her  return  to  him  (p.  72 1.  28)  after  a  day  or  two  spent  with  Fidus'  parents. 
Was  she  a  niece  of  George  Wyatt  of  Boxley  Abbey  ?  (Biog.  App.  vol.  i.  385. 

7.  fralickei  frolic,  frolicsome. 

9.  the  Turtle  hauing  lost  hir  mate :  Earth.  Angl.  xii.  34  '  Yf  he 
lesyth  his  make,  he  sekith  not  company  of  any  other,  but  gooth  alone,  and 
hath  mynde  of  the  felyship  that  is  loste ;  And  gronyth  alway,  and  louyth 
ajid  chesy th  solytary  place,  and  fleeth  moche  company  of  men.' 

24.  the  Uine  beareth  three  grapes,  &c. :  cf.  vol.  i.  248  1.  13  'the  first 
draught  of  wine  doth  comfort  the  stomacke,  the  seconde  inflame  the  lyuer, 
the  thirde  fume  into  the  heade,'  where  see  note. 

altereth  :  in  obs.  medical  sense  :  cf.  '  alteration,'  i.  204  1.  35,  note. 

31.  heart  at  grasse  :  above,  vol.  i.  212  1.  12,  where  see  note. 

P.  55,  6.  speak  in  your  cast :  speak  during  your  part,  interrupt.  Again, 
p.  172  1.  24,  and  Moth.  Bomb.  v.  3.  20. 

28.  Galen  .  .  .  dronke  no  wine  .  .  .  selfe  warme  :  the  nearest  approach 
I  can  find  is  Erasmus'  Adag.  Chiliad,  ed.  Basle,  1533,  p.  929  '  Tria  Salu- 
berrima :  ,  .  .  vnde  optimum  dictum  est,  uesci  citra  saturitatein,  non 
refugere  laborem,  naturae  semen  conservare.'  Cf.  Rawl.  MS.  Poet.  85,  f.  43. 

32.  Magis :  real  or  imaginary  name  for  some  love-powder. 

P.  56,  4.  Dogs  of  Egypt  drinke  water,  by  snatches:  Pliny,  viii.  61 
1  Certum  est  iuxta  Nilum  amnem  currentes  lambere,  ne  crocodilorum 
aviditati  occasionem  praebeant.'  Also  Ael.  Var.  Hist.  i.  4. 

6.  Daughters  of  Lysander,  &c. :  invented,  I  believe,  by  Lyly  after  the 
model  of  their  strict  bringing  up,  quoted  vol.  i.  223  1.  34  from  Plut.  Reg. 
et  Imp.  Apophtheg. 

1.  Uirgins  in  Rome,  whoe  dryncke  but  theyr  eye  full :  Aelian,  Var. 
Hist.  ii.  38  OVKOVV  KCU  'Poo/ucu'oiff  rjv  €V  rols  /xdXtora  6  v6p.os  ode  eppa>/u,ei/o?*  ovre 
Acvdepa  yvvr)  frriev  av  olvov  OVTC  OIKCTIS,  [ot/re  fjifjv  rS>v  ev  yeyoi/orcoi/  01  e(p'  fjftrjs] 

/ie'xp*  TTfire  K.CU  TpiaKovra  eVcwj/.  On  p.  2oo  1.  29  the  English  ladies  eat  of 
delicates  '  but  their  eare  ful.? 

21.  in  that,  vsing:  and,  in  doing  so,  you  use.  The  comma  is  in  the 
original. 

23.  dragges  :  a  I4th  cent,  form  of  '  drugs/  Piers  Plowm.  B.  xx.  173 
'  And  dryuen  awey  deth  with  dyas  and  dragges,'  where  the  same  passage 
in  the  C-text  has  '  drogges.'  Dragges  is  however  found  in  i6th  cent,  for 
'  dregs,'  here  perhaps  of  bitter  sediment  in  a  sweet  medicine. 


502  NOTES 

P.  57,  5.  Gentlemenne  .  .  .  in  the  discourse  of  this  hue,  it  maye 
seeme  I  hane  taken  a  newe  course :  the  first  in  Part  II  of  those  digressions 
aside  to  the  reader  of  which  we  had  an  example  vol.  i.  195,  and  in  a  less 
degree  on  pp.  197,  215.  The  '  newe  course '  for  which  Lyly  here  apologizes 
purports  to  consist  in  the  old-fashioned  simplicity  and  '  playne  tearmes ' 
of  the  love-making  of  Fidus'  day,  i.e.  under  Henry  VIII  (p.  49  1.  i),  as 
compared  with  the  '  piked  sentences '  and  '  Crotchetts  cunninglye  handled ' 
of  the  date  of  writing,  1579,  some  forty  years  later,  of  which  we  are 
promised  a  specimen  farther  on,  i.e.  presumably  in  the  account  of 
Philautus'  passion  for  Camilla  and,  afterwards,  for  Fraunces.  The  reason 
alleged  for  the  difference  is  the  absurd  one  that  love-making  was  rare  in 
Fidus'  day  ;  while  to  the  modern  reader  the  distinction  is  not  apparent. 
Neither  between  the  respective  matter  or  manner  of  Fidus'  and  Philautus' 
wooing  is  there  any  such  great  gulf  as  exists,  for  instance,  between  the 
society  of  Jane  Austen's  novels  and  that  of  Thackeray's ;  and  the  excuse 
seems  the  more  unnecessary  when  we  remember  that  Lyly  as  a  novel- 
writer  was  almost  without  competitor  or  predecessor.  I  am  inclined  to 
think  this  apology  for  simplicity  a  mere  affectation,  like  that  of  the  Epistle 
Dedicatory  to  the  First  Part ;  or  else  a  clever  attempt  to  cover  the  defect 
of  which  he  was  really  conscious,  monotony  of  style. 

17.  quoyings  :  coyings,  blandishments.  Drayton  has  it  (Odes,  vi.  46) 
in  the  sense  of  a  mother's  petting. 

20.  Cyrus  .  . .  the  hooked  nose :  Plut.7?^.  et  Imp.  Apophtheg.,  alluded 
to  above,  vol.  i.  179  1.  25. 

25.  not  euer\  not  always. 

P.  58,  2.  compassei  i.e.  the  whole  round  of  the  clock.  On  p.  96  1.  12 
'lyued  compasse,'  i.e.  through  a  cycle  of  fashion. 

7.  recording  theyr  sweete  notes',  i.e.  piping  them.  Woman  in  the 
Moone,  iii.  i.  79  'Where  warbling  birds  recorde  our  happines.'  The 
1  recorder'  was  a  kind  of  flute  or  flageolet  (Hamlet,  iii.  2.  303). 

14.  that  might  best  there  bee  bolde :  so  p.  163 1.  5,  Lyly  assigns  social  rank 
as  a  reason  for  the  word  being  left  to  Surius  by  the  rest  of  the  company. 

15.  at  all  assay  es\  at  all  events,  Marr.  of  Wit  and  Science,  v.  4 
(Hazlitt's  Dodsley,  ii.  389)  '  God  speed  us  well,  I  will  make  one  at  all 
assays  '  (N.  E.  D.). 

20.  in  Sienna  a  Magnifico  .  .  .  with  three  Daughters :  I  can  only 
suggest  that  Lyly  may  be  transferring  to  Siena  some  recollection  of '  An 
Inventyon  or  playe  of  the  three  Systers  of  Mantua  shewen  at  Richmond 
on  S*  Stephens  daie  at  night  enacted  by  thearle  of  Warwick  his  srvntes,'  as 
recorded  in  the  Revels  Accounts  for  Feb.  14,  1577-8  to  March  6,  1578-9 
(Cunningham's  Extracts,  p.  125). 

P.  59,  8.  amiable-,  of  personal  beauty.  So  Coverdale  (1$$$),  Judith 
x.  4  '  She  was  exceadinge  amyable  and  welfauored  in  all  mens  eyes.' 
To-day  the  epithet  almost  implies  beauty's  absence. 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  503 

8.  Helen  .  .  .  a  Starre  :  it  is  of  no  importance  to  Lyly  that  he 
twice  (with  more  accuracy)  denied  her  stellification  in  Part  I.  pp.  317,  325. 

11.  luno  .  .  .  beholding  lo,  wished  to  be  no  Goddesse:  Ov.  Met.  i.  612 
(  Bos  quoque  formosa  est :  speciem  Saturnia  vaccae,  |  Quamquam  invita, 
probat.' 

18.  mych :  skulk,  loiter,  always  of  some  action  underhand  or  against 
rule.  Moth.  Bomb.  ii.  2.  28  'that  mite  is  miching  in  this  groue*  (of 
Halfpenny  in  the  tavern). 

21.  Pigmalion  . .  .  Image  ofluory :  the  story,  transferred  to  Piedmont, 
forms  the  eleventh  in  Pettie's  Pal  lace,  on  fql.  83  v.  of  which  is  found  '  loue 
fyrst  entreth  in  at  the  eyes,'  which  Lyly  repeats  ten  lines  above.  Also 
Ov.  Met.  x.  243. 

Appelles  the  counterfeit  of  Campaspe:  Pliny's  brief  account  in 
Nat.  Hist.  xxxv.  10  hardly  warrants  this  idea,  which  Lyly  makes  use  of 
again  in  Campaspe.  It  looks  as  if  that  play  was  partially  written  or  else 
conceived  as  early  as  1579. 

25.  Alexander . . .  Venus,  not  yet  finished,  &c. :  I  find  no  authority  for 
this,  nor  for  the  Ganymede  by  Zeuxis,  in  Pliny,  xxxv.  36.  Cf.  p.  6 1.  25,  note. 
P.  60,  9.  Aristippits  .  .  .  Lais :  the  story  is  probably  of  Lyly's  in 
vention.  The  connexion  between  the  Cyrenaic  philosopher  and  the 
courtesan  is  stated  by  Diog.  Laertius,  ii.  8.  4 :  ?^o>,  aXX'  owe  6^0/xai,  he  said 
in  his  own  defence.  See  also  Plut.  Amatorius,  c.  4. 

11.  Osyris  King  of  the  Aegyptians,  &c. :  has  no  more  precise  authority 
than  the  civilizing  influence  of  Osiris'  reign  in  Egypt,  as  mentioned  by 
Plut.  De  hide  et  Osiride,  c.  13. 

15.  claw  him  :  smooth,  humour,  properly  to  give  pleasure  by  scratch 
ing.  Cf.  pp. 135  1.  25,  142  1.  31  '  the  Tygresse  biteth  not  when  shee  is  clawed.' 
Much  Ado,  i.  3.  18. 

P.  61,  4.  And  bicause  .  .  .  womans  wit  .  .  .  Goddesses :  borrowed, 
probably  from  L.  Domenichi's  Delia  Nobilta  delle  Donne,  Vinegia,  1549, 
or  from  G.  F.  Capella's  earlier  Delia  Eccellenza  et  Dignita  delle  Donne, 
Roma,  1525,  sig.  H.  i.  v  'Et  quindi  precede  che  1' antiquita  imagino 
&  pinse  le  Muse  excitatrici  de  gli  eleuati  ingegni,  femine,  et  pjnse  anchora 
Minerua  .  .  .  donna,  .  .  .  Philosophanti  .  .  .  parlando  de  la  natura  de  gli 
animali  dicono  generalmente  le  femine  esser  piu  disciplinabili  £  ageuoli  de 
imparare,'  £c. 

13.  lead  Apes  in  Hell',  the  imagined  fate  of  old  maids,  as  vol.  i.  220 
1.  32,  230  1.  26,  and  often. 

29.  stone  Sandastra,  &c. :  adapted  from  the  account  of  the  Indian 
stone  '  sandaresus '  or  '  sandastrosj  Pliny,  xxxvii.  28  (  The  great  recom 
mendation  of  it  is  that  it  has  all  the  appearance  of  fire  placed  behind 
a  transparent  substance,  it  burning  with  star-like  scintillations  within, 
that  resemble  drops  of  gold,  and  are  always  to  be  seen  in  the  body  of  the 
stone,  and  never  upon  the  surface'  (Bostock  and  Riley). 


5o4  NOTES 

34.  TrogioditcE  .  .  .  stone  Topason :  Pliny,  xxxvii.  32  '  Troglodytae 
praedones,  diutius  fame  et  tempestate  pressi,  cum  herbas  radicesque 
effoderent,  eruerunt  topazion.' 

P.  62,  15.  whist :  silent.  Tempest,  i.  2.  379  '  kissed  |  The  wild  waves 
whist.' 

P.  63,  12.  head  be  net  higher  then  your  hat:  apparently  of  ambitious 
dreams  inconsistent  with  one's  station. 

26.  Mr  frowning  cloth :  cf.  Pappe,  vol.  iii.  p.  410 1. 17  '  pull  his  powting 
croscloath  ouer  his  brows,'  and  vol.  i.  p.  502  1.  26  a  wrap  worn  round  the 
head  and  across  the  forehead,  which  cast  deep  shadows  over  the  face. 

31.  a  Knight .  .  .  or  a  knitter  of  cappes\  i.e.  decide  his  fate,  for 
exaltation  or  abasement. 

P.  64,  6.  Emeraud  shineth  britest  'when  it  hath  no  oyle :  cf.  p.  82  1.  21 
1  as  the  Lapidarie  doth  a  true  Saphire,  who  when  he  seeth  it  to  glister, 
couereth  it  with  oyle,  &  then  if  it  shine,  he  alloweth  it,  if  not,  hee  breaketh 
it.'  Pliny,  xxxvii.  74,  speaks  of  stones  being  boiled  in  honey  to  improve 
their  brilliance. 

24.  right  eare  beganne  to  gloe :  the  signification  more  commonly 
attached  to  glowing  ears  is,  and  was,  that  one  is  being  spoken  about. 
With  Iffida's  reception  of  Fidus'  suit  compare  Camilla's  reception  of 
that  of  Philautus,  both  resembling  Horatia's  reply  to  Curiatius  in  Pettie's 
eighth  Tale. 

31.  Serpent  Amphisbena  .  .  .  hauing  at  ech  ende  a  sting:  Pliny,  viii. 
35  '  Geminum  caput  amphisbenae,  hoc  est,  et  a  cauda,  tanquam  parum 
esset  uno  ore  fundi  venenum.' 

P.  65,  2.  the  stynge  in  the  head:  referring  to  Fidus'  remark  (p.  63  1.  7) 
that  if  he  married  the  \v-ise  wanton  he  would  '  weare  a  home  and  not 
knowe  it.' 

23.  streame  runneth  smoothest,  &c. :  2  Henry  VI,  iii.  I.  53  'Smooth 
runs  the  water  where. the  brook  is  deep.' 

P.  66,  3.  catching  of  Hiena  .  .  .  on  ye  left  side :  Pliny,  xxviii.  27 
'When  the  hyaena  flies  before  the  hunter,  it  turns  off  on  the  right,  and 
letting  the  man  get  before  it,  follows  in  his  track  ;  should  it  succeed  in 
doing  which,  the  man  is  sure  to  lose  his  senses  and  fall  from  his  horse 
even.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  it  turns  off  to  the  left,  it  is  a  sign  that 
the  animal  is  losing  strength,  and  that  it  will  soon  be  taken '  (Bostock  and 
Riley's  trs.). 

19.  stake :  treating  marriage  as  a  gambler's  throw,  instead  of  a  wise 
investment  in  what  may  comfort  and  protect.  A  rest  read  stacke ;  but 
I  find  no  use  of  the  word  for  any  portion  of  dress. 

26.  goe  the  wrong  way  to  the  Wo  ode  :  '  ye  tooke  |  The  wrong  way  to 
wood,'  Heywood's  Proverbes,  1546  (p.  156  Reprint). 

28.  next:  nearest. 

29.  Aiax  . .  .  by  rage :  alluding  to  the  mad  slaughtering  of  the  oxen 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  505 

by  Ajax,  when  defeated  by  Ulysses  in  the  competition  for  the  arms  of 
Achilles;  mentioned  Hyg.  Fab.  107.  Ovid  (Met.  xiii.  382  sqq.)  merely 
relates  his  suicide,  and  I  doubt  whether  Lyly  knew  Sophocles'  play. 

P.  67,  5.  there  is  no  difference  of  blouds  in  a  basen  .  .  .  auncestours 
.  .  .  vertue :  AWs  Well,  ii.  3.  125  sqq. 

8.  crake  of:  crack  of,  boast  of,  as  vol.  i.  235  1.  22  and  Royster  Doyster, 
i.  I  '  craking  Of  his  great  actes  in  fighting.' 

27.  looks  through  a  Milstone:  Hey  wood's  Proverbes,  Part  I.  ch.  10 
(Bartlett). 

P.  68,  4.  know  the  length  of  myfoote :  be  taken  into  my  confidence. 

8.  partlet :  a  kind  of  neckerchief,  or  inner  front  to  cover  the  neck  and 
shoulders,  worn  with  a  dress  cut  open  in  front.  Beau,  and  Flet.  Knight 
of  Malta,  i.  i  'Their  wires,  their  partlets,  pins  and  perriwigs.' 

25.  manne  vs :    escort  us.     '  Such  manning  them  home  when  the 
sportes  are  ended,'  Gosson's  Schoole  of  Abuse \  p.  35,  ed.  Arb. 

38.  herb  Basill .  .  .  rue  .  .  .poppy :  Pliny,  xix.  45,  says  that  rue  (ruta) 
reproduces  itself,  and  adds '  Eadem  et  ocimo  (Basil)  natura,  nisi  quod 
difficilius  crescit.  Sed  durata  runcatur  non  sine  difncultate.' 

P.  69,  10.  came  in  with  his  spoake\  an  adaptation  of  'putting 
a  spoke  in  another's  wheel,'  which  is  Elizabethan. 

16.  warden  of  yl  occupation',  term  applied  to  a  chief  officer  in 
a  trade-guild,  e.  g.  the  Wardens  of  the  Stationers'  Company,  mentioned  so 
often  in  their  Register.  Occupation  is  properly  some  manual  craft ;  cf. 
vol.  i.  196  1.  12,  of  beechwood  being  '  carued  and  occupyed.'  So  in  Jul. 
Caes.  i.  2.  266.  Cf.  Endim.  i.  3.  46. 

24.  to  rest :  i.  e.  to  settle  down  to  table-talk. 

28.  salte  .  .  .feare  of  anger:  no  authority  in  Pliny,  xxxi.  39-42. 

P.  70,  18.  sutors  .  .  .  Archer] :  I  fear  Lyly  intends  a  pun  on 'shooter.' 
Cf.  L.  L.  L.  iv.  I.  109  'Who  is  the  suitor?'  'Why,  she  that  bears 
the  bow.' 

22-3.  he  had  personage :  all  the  eds.  are  unanimous  for  she.,  which 
would  require  personage  to  mean  'distinction/  'importance';  but  its 
Elizabethan  use  is  more  commonly  of  personal  beauty,  especially  male, 
e.g.  p.  57  1. 34  '  Paris  with  his  personage,'  and  p.  119  1.  8  '  all  woemenne  are 
not  allured  with  personage5  ;  also  p.  121  1.  14  and  Faerie  Queene,  III.  ii. 
26  '  The  damzell  well  did  vew  his  personage,  |  And  liked  welL' 

26.  by  one  looke:  by  a  similarity  of  appearance. 

P.  71,  3.  rubbed  in+ .  .  .  hand .  .  .  supple  .  .  .  heart :  so  of  the  '  poyson 
Antidotum,'  p.  52  1.  12. 

P.  72,  3.  to  start:  to  shirk.    '  Starter'  is  used,  vol.  i.  222  I.  10,  of  Jason. 
20.  them  that  cares  not :    i.  e.   that    care    not  for   him.     For  the 
grammar,  cf.  p.  206  1.  u '  windes  blasteth  .  .  .  blossoms,'  and  vol.  i.  191 1.  i 
1  perfumes  doth  refresh.' 

28.  hir  Uncles:  cf.  p.  54  1.  6  'the  Gentleman,  where  my  Ifnda  lay.' 


506  NOTES 

P.  73,  15.  both  wrought  Alexdder'.  referring  to  Pliny,  vii.  38,  as 
above,  p.  38,  and  later,  p.  204. 

16.  Hippocrates',  this  allusion  implies  what  is  not  implied  in  those  of 
pp.  5  1.  13,  77  1.  18,  that  he  was  a  painter,  but  no  such  is  known  to  Pliny 
or  Plutarch,  or  to  Smith's  Biographical  Dictionary. 

22.  poyson  wil  disperse  it  selfe  into  euery  veyne-.  cf.  vol.  i.  218  1.  22 
and  Rom.  and  Jul.  v.  i.  60. 
P.  74,  28.  is  nothing  to  :  contributes  nothing  to. 

30.  by  Basill  the  Scorpion  is  engendred,  £c. :  loosely  from  Pliny, 
xx.  48  '  Addunt  quidam  tritum  si  operiatur  lapide,  scorpionem  gignere  . . . 
Afri  vero,  si  eo  die  feriatur  quispiam  a  scorpione,  quo  ederit  ocimum, 
servari  non  posse.' 

33.  Salamander  .  . .  quencheth  it :  Pliny,  x.  86  '  Huic  tantus  rigor,  ut 
ignem  tactu  restinguat,  non  alio  modo  quam  glacies.' 

P.  75,  23.  little  finger .  .  .  whole  hand'.  Niobe  reverses  the  process, 
Loves  Met.  i.  2.  40. 

25.  a  great  mamering'.  hesitation,  paralysis.  Again,  p.  148  1.  22, 
vol.  i.  253  1.  14,  note. 

31.  thought  no  heauen  to  my  happe :  thought  no  bliss  of  heaven  was 
to  be  compared  to  my  good  fortune. 

33.  tree  Ebenus,  &c. :    Pliny,  xii.  9  '  Accendi  Fabianus  negat :  uritur 
tamen  odore  iucundo.' 

37.  trees  striken  with  thtinder,  &c. :  see  vol.  i.  p.  309  1.  13,  note,  and 
cf.  End.  v.  3.  88. 

P.  76,  30.  he  My  das',  opposed  to  the  wise  Ulysses  for  the  two 
instances  of  'pingue  ingenium'  recorded  Ov.  Met.  xi.  85-193. 

he  Codrus:  either  the  Athenian  king,  whose  early  date  (nth  cent. 
B.C.)  fits  him  to  be  opposed  as  a  type  of  simplicity  to  the  wealthy  Croesus  ; 
or  the  poor  man  whose  little  all  is  burnt  in  Juvenal's  Third  Satire,  208 
'Nilhabuit  Codrus.  Quis  enim  negat?  et  tamen  illud  Perdidit  infelix 
totum  nihil.' 

34.  the  more  it  is  loaden,  the  better  it  beareth  :  cf.  vol.  i.  191  1.  9  about 
the  palm— 'the  heauyer  you  loade  it  the  higher  it  sprowteth,'  and  note. 

P.  77,  6.  Amulius  .  .  .  so  protrayed  Minerua,  &c. :  a  Roman  painter 
chiefly  employed  in  decorating  the  Golden  House  of  Nero  ;  Pliny,  xxxv.  37 
*  Fuit  et  nuper  gravis  ac  severus,  idemque  floridus,  humilis  rei  pictor 
Amulius.  Huius  erat  Minerva,  spectantem  spectans,  quacumque  aspi- 
ceretur.' 

12.  eyes  of  Augustus  Ccesar  .  .  .  beames  :  Suet.,  De  Caesaribus,  ii.  79 
'  Oculos  habuit  claros  ac  nitidos  :  quibus  etiam  existimari  volebat  inesse 
quiddam  divini  vigoris  :  gaudebatque,  si  sibi  quis  acrius  contuenti,  quasi 
ad  fulgorem  Solis  vultum  submitteret.'  Alluded  to  again  in  the  Prologue 
to  Gallathea. 

15.  Eagle  which  Sesta  a  Virgin  brought  up :  Pliny,  x.  6  relates  the 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  507 

story  of  an  unnamed  girl  of  Sestos  '  Est  percelebris  apud  Seston  urbem 
aquilae  gloria :  educatam  a  virgine  retulisse  gratiam,  aves  primo,  mox 
deinde  venatus  aggerentem.  Defuncta  postremo,  in  rogum  accensum  eius 
iniecisse  sese,  et  simul  conflagrasse.'  For  this  personification  of  a  local  or 
national  name,  cf. '  the  Turke  Ottomo,'  p.  881.  32. 

18.  Hippocrates  Twinnes :  cf.  pp.  5  1.  13  note,  73  1.  16  note. 

20.  Alexander  .  .  .  engrauen  .  .  .  Pergotales  :  Pliny,  vii.  38,  and  again 
p.  204. 

25.  Praxitiles. . .  Flora :  a  statue  of  Flora  by  Praxiteles  is  mentioned 
by  Pliny,  xxxvi.  4  as  existing  in  the  Gardens  of  Servilius  at  Rome,  but  the 
details  here  given  are  probably  Lyly's  improvement  on  Amulius3  Minerva, 
above,  like  *  the  image  of  Diana  in  Chio,3  p.  171  1.  4. 

P.  78,  5.  phrenticke :   frantic.      The    old    spelling  better  recalls   the 
etymology  Lat.  phreneticus>  corruptly  fr.  (frpeviriKos,  fr.  cppevms. 

1.  Homers  Moly  :  Odyss.  x.  302-6.     See  p.  18  1.  19  note. 

Pliny es  Centaurio  :  according  to  Pliny,  xxv.  30,  centaury  is  said 
to  have  cured  Chiron,  when  wounded  in  the  foot  with  one  of  Hercules' 
arrows. 

P.  79,  13.  lyued  as  the  Elephant  doth  by  aire  :    Pliny  has  nothing  to 
warrant  this. 

17.  Tfa'rsus  slayn  by  the  Titrkes,  being  then  in  paye  'with  the  King 
of  Spaine :  i.  e.  fighting  for  Spain  against  the  Turks,  recognized  as  the 
general  foe  of  Europe  at  this  period.  The  defeat  of  the  Turkish  fleet 
at  Lepanto,  Oct.  7,  1571,  was  no  doubt  in  Lyly's  mind — there  was  a  revolt 
of  Moriscoes  in  Spain  itself  1567-1570:  but  more  particular  mention  would 
have  contradicted  the  date  roughly  assigned  to  Fidus'  courtship,  as  temp. 
Henry  VIII.  Cf.  pp.  44  1.  13,48  1.  36,  49  1.  22,  74  1.  10,  75  11.  9-16,  80  1.  2. 

23.  souldiers  of  Vlisses:  Aen.  ii.  7  '  Quis  talia  fando 

Myrmidonum,  Dolopumve,  aut  duri  miles  Ulixi 
Temperet  a  lacrymis  ?  ' 

P.  80,  32.  whersoeuer we  become',  wheresoever  we  find  ourselves. 
P.  81,  9.  welcome  then  lupiter  was  to  Bacchus :  I  find  nothing  more 
apposite  than  Lucian,  Dialog,  viii.  9.     Cf.  Eurip.  Bacchae,  286  sqq.     But 
Bacchus  must  be  a  misprint  for  Baucis ;    Ov.  Met.  viii.  629  sqq.      Cf. 
Camp.  Prol.,  &c. 

13.  straine  curtesie  :  either  scant  their  own,  or  put  a  strain  on  their 
host's,  by  arriving  too  late  at  riight.  Cf.  M.  Bomb.  iii.  3.  34  '  I  must 
straine  cursie  with  you  ;  I  haue  busines,  I  cannot  stay.' 

as  we  say  in  Athens ',  jftshe  and  gestes  m  three  dayes  are  stale  :  quoted 
again  as  Athenian,  p.  150  1.  17.  Plautus,  Asinaria,  i.  3.  26  has  '  Quasi 
piscis,  itidem  est  amator  lenae,  nequam  est,  nisi  recens ' :  and  this  is 
quoted  in  the  Adagia  of  Erasmus,  with  the  comment  *  Dicitur  peculiariter 
in  hospitem  aut  vulgarein  amicum,  qui  primo  quidem  adventu  non  ingratus 
est,  caeterum  ante  triduum  exactum  putet*  (ed.  1666,  p.  312). 


$o8  NOTES 

P.  82,  1.  knottes*.  ornamental  beds.  Cf.  'Gardeiners  in  their  curious 
knottes,'  vol.  i.  187  1.  29. 

10.  wantonnest  eyes  and  the  whitest  mouthes:   cf.  'sift  the   finest 
meale,  and  beare  the  whitest  mouthes,'  of  a  spoiled,  fastidious   taste, 
vol.  i.  181  1.  1 6,  note. 

11.  straunge  tree  .  .  .  called  Alpina\  nothing  in  Pliny,  xxi.  41-3 
(bees'  food),  nor  xi.  19,  20  (their  dislikes). 

13.  glorious :  boastful. 

21.  Lapidarie  .  .  .  a  trite  Saphire  .  .  .  oyle  :  cf.  p.  64  1.  6  '  the  purest 
Emeraud  shineth  britest  when  it  hath  no  oyle.' 

24.  cast  some  kynde  of  coulour  in  hir  face  :  i.  e.  '  imagine  her  stained 
with  some  fault ' — coulour  in  sense  of  pretence,  pretended  fault :  but 
possibly  '  accuse  her  of  some  pretended  fault,  and  see  if  she  meets  the 
charge  calmly,'  as  being  innocent. 

34.  Anthracitis:    Pliny,  xxxvii.  27  '  Est  et  anthracitis  appellata  in 
Thesprotia  fossilis,carbonibus  similis  . . .  harum  igneus  color,  ut  superiorum 
est :  peculiare  quidem,  quod  iactatae  in  ignem  velut  intermortuae  extin- 
guuntur,  contra  aquis  perfusae  exardescunt.' 

P.  83,  5.  meane:  moderate,  as  p.  108  1.  26. 

7.  Wine  is  the  glasse  of  the  minde  :  Aeschylus,  Frag.  393  KaroTrrpoi/ 
ei'Soi'?  ^a\Ko?  ear',  ofi/o?  5e  vov.     Erasmus'  Adagia,  ed.  1666,  p.  368  '  Vinum 
animi   speculum.'     Repeated  Saph.  and  Phao,   ii.   4.  80  '  Grapes   are 
minde  glasses.' 

8.  onely  sauce . . .  Bacchus  gaue  Ceres,  &c. :  i.  e.  love-philtre,  but  also  as 
natural  accompaniment  of  Ceres'  corn.     In  Eurip.  Bacchae,  274-84,  where 
Demeter  and  Dionysus  are  coupled,  occurs  ovfi'  eW  aXAo  ^>app.a<ov  TTUVOW. 

11-2.  I  am  glad  that  my  Adonis,  &c. :  nothing  of  this  in  Ov.  Met.  x. 
Cf.  '  Castera  quis  nescit  ? '  Woman,  iv.  i.  28  from  Ov.  Amor.  i.  5.  25. 

33.  fa-burthen :  '  false  burthen '  or  '  bass,'  originally  a  system  of 
harmonizing  a  given  plain-song,  especially  by  adding  thirds  and  sixths 
(N.  E.  D.).  From  Fr.  faux-bourdon  ;  not  ;  Fa,'  the  musical  note. 

P.  84,  6.  straungers  of  their  friends  :  foreigners  of  their  acquaintance, 
i.e.  Italians  or  Greeks  like  themselves. 

27.  ivas  thought  to  E^^phues  courtly  :  appeared  to  Euphues  to  be 
merely  in  a  pleasant  social  vein :  cf.  p.  165  1.  10. 

35.  of  greater  beautie  .  .  .  and  yet  of  lesse  beautie,  &c. :  for  the  form  cf. 
vol.  i.  184  1.  9  '  of  more  wit  then  wealth,'  &c.,  and  185  1.  23  of  Naples. 

P.  85,  2.  solum  :  sullen.  I  leave  the  text  alone,  though  B  has  perhaps 
the  better  reading.  If  solemn  were  meant,  the  spelling  would  probably 
have  been  solempne. 

16.  ye  riuer  in  Arabia,  &c. :  this  extraordinary  stream  finds  no  men 
tion  in  Pliny's  long  chapter  32  of  bk.  vi. 

P.  86,  3.  soiid :  swoon.  Cf.  p.  107  1.  5  '  sounded  with  weaknesse '  and 
'she  weeping  sounds,'  Woman  in  the  Moone,  i.  i.  217. 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  509 

5.  woman, ye  last .  .  .  made,  &*  therefore  ye  best',  cf.  H.  Cornelius 
Agrippa's  De  Nobilitate  &*  Praecellentia  Faeminei  Sexus,  1529  (Lyons 
ed.  1531,  p.  520)  *  Sic  mulier  dum  creatur  mundus  inter  omnia  creata  tern- 
pore  fuit  ultima,  eademque  cum  authoritate  turn  dignitate  in  ipso  divinae 
mentis  conceptu  omnium  fuit  prima.' 

19.  layest  that  Carde  for  ye  eleuation  of  Naples  :  calculate  it  for  the 
latitude  of  Naples— '  elevation '  being  an  obsolete  astronomical  term,  mean 
ing  the  elevation  of  the  Pole  at  that  place,  i.  e.  the  height  to  which  the 
earth's  pole  would  have  to  be  produced  to  bring  it  above  the  horizon  as 
seen  from  Naples,  or  the  angle  made  by  a  line  vertical  at  Naples  with  the 
plane  of  the  equator. 

28.  Tablet :  miniature,  diminutive  of  *  table '  =  picture. 

29.  one  tree  in  Arabia,  &c. :  referring  to  the  nest  of  cassia  and  frank 
incense  built  by  the  phoenix  in  its  old  age,  Pliny,  x.  2. 

35.  Ariadnes  thrid :  by  which  Theseus  was  to  find  his  way  out  of  the 
Labyrinth.  Hyg.  Fab.  42. 

Sibillas  bough  :  the  golden  bough  plucked  by  Aeneas,  Aen.  vi.  140. 

Medeas  seede :  the  dragon's  teeth  sown  by  Jason.  Lyly's  allusions  are 
not  often  so  inapposite. 

P.  87, 3.  bloud  molly fieth  :  see  vol.  i.  210  1.  28  (note),  also  305  1.  20,  and 
below,  p.  224  1.  25.  The  diamond  was  supposed  to  be  broken  by  the 
warm  blood  of  a  goat. 

19.  or  now.  before  now.     'Or'  =  before  (prep,  and  conjunction)  in 
ME.,  e.  g.  Piers  Plow.  c.  viii.  66  '  or  daye.' 

Infanntes  they  canne  loue,  £c.  :  if  the  text  is  right  the  meaning 
must  be  'Even  in  their  childhood  they  can  love,'  which  yields  but  poor 
sense.  I  incline  to  think  Lyly  wrote  '  In  faith,'  &c.  But  cf.  above, 
p.  483,  note  I. 

P.  88,  1.  so  beautiful  a  peece :  i.e.  some  man  as  comely  as  herself. 
Gall.  iv.  i.  48  '  so  young  a  peece.' 

20.  taint :  i.  e.  tent,  keep  open  with  a  piece  of  sponge  or  fabric  for  the 
use  of  emollients.     Cf.  vol.  i.  212  1.  n. 

27.  Italionated-.  Ascham,  Scolemaster  (p.  78,  ed.  Arb.)  quotes  it  as  an 
Italian  proverb  '  Englese  Italionato,  e  vn  diabolo  incarnato?  In  the 
following  apostrophe  to  Italy  Lyly  may  have  had  in  mind  those  of  Dante, 
Purg.  vi.  96,  and  Petrarch,  Cans.  29,  though  both  are  more  political. 

32.  the  Turke  Ottomo :  '  Ottomans,'  the  European  name  for  the 
Turks,  is  formed  from  Othman  or  Osman,  born  in  1258.  Lyly  loosely 
creates  an  eponymous  '  Ottomo.'  Cf.  *  Sesta  a  Uirgin,'  p.  77  1.  15,  where 
he  should  have  written  'a.  virgin  of  Sestos.' 

37.  a  vicar :  i.  e.  the  Pope,  the  Vicar  of  Christ  upon  earth. 
P.  89,  1.     Senate  of  three  hundred:  the  normal  number  throughout 
Republican  times  until  Liv.  Drusus  introduced  3ooEquites,  91  B.C.    After 
some  fluctuations,  Augustus  fixed  it  at  600. 


5io  NOTES 

13.  a  Murrians  eare  :  Murrian,  Morian  (F  rest)  from  OF.  Morien, 
Maurten,  or  Moriane,  a  Moor. 

15.  Mausolus  Sepulchre :  mentioned  Strabo,xiv.  2.  1 6,  and  Cic.  Tusc. 
iii.  31  'Artemisia  ilia,  Mausoli  Cariae  regis  uxor,  quae  nobile  illud  Hali- 
carnassi  fecit  sepulchrum,  quamdiu  vixit,  vixit  in  luctu,'  &c.     Mausolus 
died  353  B.C. 

19.  Mandrak :  i.e.  mandragora,  mentioned  as  a  narcotic,  Pliny,  xxv.  94. 

20.  hearbe  Cheruell :  Pliny's  '  scandix,'  xxii.  38  is  supposed  to  be  chervil. 
29.  Euets :  efts.     Browne's  Brit.  Past.  i.  2 

'  May  never  euet,  nor  the  toade, 
Within  thy  banks  make  their  abode.' 

P.  9O,  2.  in  Bce^o^tia  Hercules :  his  worship,  initiated  at  Opus  in 
Locris,  was  adopted  at  Thebes. 

8.  resiluation :  resilience,  renewed  attack.  Hall's  Edward  V,  f.  1 1 
'  double  the  perell  in  the  resilvacion  that  was  in  the  fyrste  sycknes ' 
(Halliwell). 

16.  Wolfe  . . .  catch  the  Moone  :  As  You  Like  //,  v.  2. 1 18  (  the  howling 
of  Irish  wolves  against  the  moon.' 

17.  affection:  'emotion';  or  (like  'passion ')  =  his  passionate  soliloquy; 
or  =  ' affectation,'  i.e.  feigned  arguments. 

27.  SeriphuiS)  &c. :  not  classical. 

34.  stone  in  the  floud  of  Thracia  :  Pliny,  xxxvi.  68  enumerates  three 
kinds  of  a  stone  '  Thracia,'  or  a  Thracian  stone,  but  without  this  happy 
property. 

P.  91,  36.  /  recant,  &c. :  with  this  handsome  '  amends  to  ladies '  cf.  his 
language  in  'The  Glasse,'  pp.  198-203.  It  is  only  Englishwomen  who 
are  so  admirable. 

P.  92,  1.  see  day  at  a  little  hole  :  the  smallest  indication  of  the  expected 
is  enough. 

8.  halt  cuningly  if  thou  beguile  a  Cripple :  the  proverb  is  repeated, 
Gallathea,  iv.  I.  46.     It  occurs  in  Chaucer's  Troylus,  iv.  1.  1458. 
26.  hast  not  loue  in  a  string'.  \.  e.  under  control. 

'  But  she  that  had  occasion  in  a  string 

Of  vses  bridled.' — Basse's  Woman  in  the  Moone,  ii.  27. 
P.  93,  15.  a  carde  of  teene  (tenne  A)  :    i.e.  of  ten  pips,  a  strong  card. 
The  nearest  parallel  in  N.  E.  D.  is  Brinklow's  Compl.  xiv.  45  'bragg  it  out 
with  a  carde  of  x.' 

24.  Polypus,  £c. :  as  above,  vol.  i.  219  1.  8.     Pliny,  ix.  46. 

25.  bird  Piralis :  the  name  is  given  (Pliny,  xi.  42)  as  an  alternative  to 
pyrausta,  a  large-winged  four-footed  insect  which  can  only  live  in  the  fire. 
Cf.  '  the  flye  Pyrausta,'  p.  ill  1.6,  and  bird  '  Piralis,'  Gallathea,  iii.  I.  4  as 
living  in  fire.     Pliny  says  nothing  about  chameleon-like  properties. 

29.  shippeth :  sets  sail  for ;  but  perhaps  a  misprint  for  shapeth,  to 
which  E-H  correct  it. 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  511 

34.  ye  wanto  Diophantus :  named  asThemistocles'  son,  Plut.  De  Edtic. 
c.  2  :  cf.  vol.  i.  262  1. 1 1.  Details  invented  by  Lyly  from  Plutarch's  mention 
of  his  spoiled  petulance,  Reg.  et  Imp.  Apophth.  (Themis  f.  10). 

36.  forsakest  Gods  blessing .  .  .  warme  Sunne  :  vol.  i.  322  1.  3,  note. 
P.  94,  4.  siluer  .  .  .  half-penny,    such  were  coined  by   Henry  VIII, 
Edward  VI,  and  Elizabeth,  1582.     Moth.  Bomb.  ii.  I.  52  Halfpenny  says, 
' 1  shall  goe  for  siluer,  when  you  shall  be  nailed  vp  for  slips.'     Cf.  vol.  i. 
195  1.  16,  note. 

5.  setence  :  maxim.     Censer :  censure,  opinion. 

9.  rude  Poette  Cherilus,  &c.  :  loosely  from  Horace,  Epp.  ii.  I.  232-4 
'  Gratus  Alexandra  regi  Magno  fuit  ille 
Choerilus,  incultis  qui  versibus  et  male  natis 
Rettulit  acceptos,  regale  nomisma,  Philippos.' 

11.  rurall  Poet  Daretus  .  .  .  deformed  ape,  &c.  :  is  this  an  allusion  to 
the  Daretis  Phry glide  Excidio  Troiae  Historia,  as  a  poaching  on  Homer's 
ground  ;  the  'white  curtain'  being  the  attribution  to  Cornelius  Nepos  ?— - 
but  probably  it  is  merely  another  of  Lyly's  fictions.  Rurall  may  be  due 
to  Aelian's  report  (V.  H.  xi.  2)  that  he  lived  before  Homer. 

24.  force  not:  p.  48  1.  14,  and  vol.  i.  225  1.  31,  note. 

31.  choake-peare :  rough  and  unpalatable,  not  to  be  swallowed. 
P.  95,  2.  Hermogenes  :  probably  from  Galen's  Aphorisms.     There  were 
several  ancient  physicians  of  the  name. 

31.  Scipios  .  .  .  Hannibal .  .  .  Lcelius  :  C.  Laelius  the  father  was  the 
friend  of  the  Elder  Africanus  ;  C.  Laelius  the  son,  of  the  Younger :  but 
there  is  nothing  correspondent  in  Plutarch,  nor  in  the  De  Amicitia. 
P.  96,  11.  lyued compasse :  cf.  '  sleepe  compasse,'  p.  58  1.  2. 

16.  Aiax .  .  .  couer  thee,  &c.  :  Iliad,  xi.  485.     See  p.  5  1.  21,  note. 

33.  Calisthenes :  the  philosopher,  Aristotle's  cousin,  who  offended 
Alexander  by  his  outspokenness,  and  was  put  to  death,  c.  328  B.C.,  for 
alleged  complicity  with  Hermolaus'  plot  to  assassinate  the  king.  Cf. 
Campaspe,  i.  3.  69,  note.  This  story  is  from  Plut.  De  Cohib.  Ira,  c.  3,  where 
Callisthenes  merely  says,  when  the  big  goblet  comes  round,  Ou  /3ouXo/*ai 
TTicbv  'AXe£av§pou  'AavcXrjTrioC  delaOai. 

P.  97, 1.  Reynaldo  thy  countryman  :  so  Shakespeare  connects  a  fellow- 
countryman  called  Reynaldo  with  Laertes,  of  whom  Philautus  is  the  proto 
type,  in  character  and  in  his  contrast  withEuphues  (represented  by  Hamlet). 

3.  Achilles  shield . .  .  tost  to  yK  Tombe  of  Aiaoc  :  from  Pausanias, 
i.  35.  4  Aoyoi/  5e  T£>V  /uei>  AtoXe'coy  TO>I>  v&rcpov  olK.r]aravTa>v  iXioj/  ey  TI]V  Kpicriv 
rfjv  eVi  TOiff  oTrXoi?  f)Kov(ra,  01  TTJS  vavayias  'OSuo-rrei  av^a(rr]s  e'£ei/ex$?ywu  Kara 
TOV  rti(j)ov  TOV  A.'LUVTOS  TO.  o?rXa  Xeyovcrt.  There  is  no  English  translation  of 
the  Description  of  Greece  before  1794 ;  but  a  Latin  translation  by  N. 
Loescher  was  published  at  Basle,  1550,  and  another  by  Amasaeus  at 
Florence,  1551.  Lucian,  xii.  23  mentions  Ajax's  tomb  as  situate  at 
Rhoeteum,  on  the  coast  opposite  Sigeum  in  the  Troad. 


5i2  NOTES 

6.  by  Euphues  dore,  as  ye  true  owner :  like  a  lost  dog.  Recurred  to 
by  Philautus,  p.  142  1.  19. 

30.  Scyron  &>  Procrustes  :  Hyg.  Fab.  38.    Here,  and  in  Pappe,  vol.  iii. 
P-  396  1.  31,  Lyly  makes  them  partners  ;  but  the  pests,  both  slain  by 
Theseus,  were  distinct.     Sciron  compelled  travellers  to  wash  his  feet, 
before  hurling  them  over  the  cliff. 

35.  Idgis :  a  tall  fellow,  as  vol.  i.  254  1.  2. 

P.  98,  21.  Venus  with  a  Torteyse  -under  hirfoote:  Plut.  Coniug.  Prae- 
cepta,  29,  mentions  a  statue  by  Phidias  in  which  she  is  so  represented,  to 
admonish  women  to  home-keeping  and  quietness. 

25.  with  the  Aegyptian,  £c. :  for  gipsy,  as  Othello,  iii.  4.  56  'That 
handkerchief  |  Did  an  Egyptian  to  my  mother  give.'  N.  E.  D.  classes  the 
use  as  '  humorous ' :  why  not  a  piece  of  popular  ethnology  ?  Cf.  Ant.  and 
Cleop.  iv.  12.  28  '  Like  a  right  gipsy,  hath  at  fast  and  loose  |  Beguiled  me 
to  the  very  heart  of  loss.' 

27.  tayle  to  the  winde,  £c. :  in  Pliny,  viii.  56  hedgehogs'  movements 
indicate  change  of  wind. 

29.  casting  Anker  :  no  contemp.  use  to  justify  weighing  of  all  eds. 

31.  false  fire  :  blank  cartridge. 

36.  Argus  to  stare  and  winke  :  Ovid.  Met.  i.  713-6. 

P.  99,  5.  say  with  Tully,  &c. :  De  Amic.  xxiv  '  primum  ut  monitio 
acerbitate,  deinde  ut  obiurgatio  contumelia  careat.' 

10.  mad  Hare  .  .  .  caught  with  a  Taber :  cf.  vol.  i.  193  1.  35,  note. 

13.  the    Foxes    sermon  :    cf.  vol.  i.  p.  220  1.  26   '  When   the   Fox 
preacheth  the  Geese  perishe.'      A  MS.  in  the  Brit.  Mus.  (2.  B.  VII,  fol. 
156)  has  a  drawing,  c.  1320,  of  a  fox  preaching  in  a  mitre,  and  with  a  crook, 
while  a  goose  listens  open-mouthed,  and  a  stork,  drake,  and  robin  indicate 
disapproval. 

17.  a  pretie  discourse  ofonePhialo,  £c. :  alluding  to  Stephen  Gosson's 
'The  Ephemerides  of  Phialo,  deuided  into  three  Bookes.  The  first, 
A  method  which  he  ought  to  follow  that  desireth  to  rebuke  his  freend, 
when  he  seeth  him  swarue  .  .  .  Imprinted  at  London  by  Thomas  Dawson. 
Anno  1579.'  I2mo.  As  this  work  was  only  entered  to  Dawson  on  Nov.  7, 
1579  it  is  clear  that  the  end  of  the  year  found  Lyly  still  only  half  way 
through  his  new  novel.  See  note  on  the  date  of  Philautus'  letter,  p.  222. 

30.  treacle  :  a  medicine,  see  note  on  vol.  i.  236  1.  26. 

35.  the  twigge  and  the  teate\  from  Plut.  De  Educ.  c.  12,  reproduced 
Euph.  and  his  Eph.  vol.  i.  277  1.  24. 

P.  1OO,  10.  kinde  ludge,  which  Propertius  noteth  :  not  to  be  found  in 
Propertius. 

14.  like  our  Athenians,  &c. :  recalling  the  story  told  from  Plutarch, 
vol.  i.  275  1.  17  (note). 

P.  101,  10.  as  Casar  would  haue  his  wife,  &c. :  Plutarch's  Life  of 
him,  ch.  8. 


EUPHUES  AND  HIS   ENGLAND  513 

25.  forge  nothing  of  malice,  &c. :  recalled  by  Shakespeare,  Oth.  v.  2. 
342-3  'Speak  of  me  as  I  am;  nothing  extenuate,  |  Nor  set  down  aught 
in  malice.' 

P,  102,  1.  stroke  lason  on  the  stomacke  . . .  brake  his  impostume'.  i.e. 
abscess.  This  Jason  was  tyrant  of  Pherae  and  Tagus  of  Thessaly  about 
the  date  of  the  battle  of  Leuctra,  371  B.C.  (Xen.  Hellenica,  bk.  vi).  The 
story  is  from  Cic.  De  Nat.  Dear.  iii.  28  'nee  [voluit]  prodesse  Pheraeo 
lasoni  is,  qui  gladio  vomicam  eius  aperuit,  quam  sanare  medici  non 
poterant.1 

4.  to  be  ones  Priest :  i.  e.  perform  one's  funeral. 
12.  A  Straunger,  £c. :  the  tale  is  probably  of  Lyly's  invention. 
37.  Titus  . .  .  Sempronia,  Gisippus,  &c.:  note  on  vol.  i.  198  1.  23. 
P.  103,  7.  Bauins  knowen  by  their  bands :  i.  e.  faggots  by  their  fastenings. 
32.  boord :  to  rally  ;  from  obsolete  bourde  or  boorde,  a  jest  or  game. 
But  perhaps  naval,  as  p.  34  1.  25. 

P.  104,  20.  trayned  hir  by  the  bloudi  i.  e.  drew  her  on.  Metaphor 
from  '  fleshing '  hounds  or  hawks. 

P.  105,  4.  Done  .  .  .  as  though  she  had  a  gall:  Pliny,  xi.  75  speaks  of 
the  pigeon,  not  as  lacking  the  gall,  but  as  having  it  united  to  the  intestines. 
Cf.  note  on  the  wood-culver  below,  p.  1 1 1  1.  30. 

17.  come  to  parluei  i.  e.  parlye,  for  parley.  The  proverb  is  in  Ray's 
collection,  p.  27  'Valour  that  parlies,  is  near  yielding.' 

P.  106,  10.  spoyled  with  thunder :  conceived  as  discharging  the 
thunderstone.  Vol.  i.  194  1.  27,  note. 

P.  107,  19.  Bucephalus,  &c. :  Plut.  De  Solertia  Animal,  xiv.  5  says 
that  when  caparisoned  he  would  allow  only  Alexander  to  mount  him. 

23.  fleete  all  the  fat  from  thy  bread-.  '  to  fleet '  is  properly  to  skim  the 
fat  from  a  floating  surface.  The  context  shows  beard  of  previous  editions 
to  be  a  mistake  for  bread,  from  which  the  dripping  is  scraped. 

28.  Phrigian  Harmonie  being  moued  to  the  Cale?ies,  £c. :  Aelian, 
Var.  Hist.  xiii.  21  "On  eV  KeXatixus1  rfj  8opa  TOV  ^puyoy,  eav  7Tpo(ravXfj  TIS  rr]v 
apfj-oviav  rr\v  Qfpvyiav,  77  Sopa  Ktz/etrai*  eai>  Se  els  'ATroXXcopa,  arpf/Ltei  /cat  eoixe 
Koxfrf) :  i.  e.  the  skin  of  Marsyas  hung  up  by  the  victorious  Apollo  in  the 
cave  at  Celaenae  (whence  the  river  Marsyas  issued)  responds  by  movement 
to  his  own  Phrygian  flute-music,  but  remains  obstinately  motionless  to 
music  in  praise  of  Apollo.  Lyly  blindly  follows  Abr.  Fleming's  transl. 
(1576,  4°,  f.  152  <Yf  any  man  sound  the  harmonie  of  Phrygia  vnto  the 
Celasnes,  the  pipe  moueth  as  if  it  were  quicke ' :  £c.),  understanding  it 
perhaps  of  the  noisy  worship  of  Cybele. 

P.  108,  23.  Fish  caught  wt  medicines :  i.  e.  with  poisoned  bait.  Endim. 
i.  2.  79  'they  that  haue  neyther  nette  nor  hooke,  will  poyson  dowe.' 

26.  meane :  moderate,  as  p.  83  1.  5. 

P.  109,  28.  refell:  refute,  Lat.  refellere.    Again,  pp.  133  1.  15,  173  1. 13. 
P.  110,  2.  seeke  to  you :  I  Kings  x.  24  '  the  earth  sought  to  Solomon.' 


Si4  NOTES 

P.  Ill,  6.  the  fly e  Pyrausta  :  see  above,  p.  93 1.  25, '  the  bird  Piralis,'  note. 
27.  the  Austrich :  nothing  of  this  in  Pliny,  x.  i,  nor  Bartholomaeus 
Anglicus,  xii.  33. 

30.  the   Wood  Culuer:    i.e.  wood-pigeon.     Pliny,  x.  35  in  winter 
« turtur  occultatur,  pennasque  amittit.'    Dr.  Rd.  Morris  in  his  Old  English 
Miscellany  (Pref.  p.  viii)  suggests  that  Lyly  derived  this  plucking  off  of 
the  feathers  from  the  Bestiary  he  there  prints,  where  it  is  said  of  the  dove, 
!•  7^9)  *  ge  ne  haue'S  in  hire  non  galle '  (see  above,  p.  105 1. 4),  and  1. 795  '  wid 
o^re  briddes  ge  do^  as  moder'  (she  plays  the  mother  to  other  birds).     It 
seems  to  me  in  the  last  degree  improbable  that  Lyly  busied  himself  with 
manuscript  Bestiaries,  though  the  natural  history  of  works  current  in  his 
day  would  be  much  the  same  as  theirs. 

31.  the  Storke  .  .  .  carrieth  . .  .  burthen :  Pliny,  x.  30  says  that  cranes 
crossing  the   Euxine  ballast  themselves  with   coarse  sand;    and  hold 
a  stone  in  the  foot  to  keep  themselves  from  falling  asleep  when  acting  as 
sentinels  at  night ;  cf.  pp.  6  1.  I,  176  1.  10  note. 

35.  Adamant .  .  .  Diamond,  &c. :  vol.  i.  321  1.  2,  note. 
P.  112,  6.   Florus  and  Aegithus\   not  in  Smith:   perhaps  invented 
to  match  the  next  instance,  or  misprint  for  Danaus  and  Aegyptus. 

7.  flames  shall  parte,  £c. :  Hyg.  Fab.  68  '  Eteocles  &  Polynices  inter 
se  pugnantes  alius  alium  interfecerunt.  His  cum  Thebis  parentaretur, 
etsi  ventus  vehemens  esset,  tamen  fumus  se  nunquam  in  unam  partem 
conuertit,  sed  alius  alio  seducitur.' 

12.  Acontius  .  .  .  Cydippe,  £c. :  Ov.  Heroid.  20,  21.  The  'fraude' 
consisted  in  making  her  read  before  the  altar  a  vow  of  whose  binding  force 
she  was  unaware. 

21.  Iitlius  C&sar  .  .  .  yeelded  to  I  cue:    i.e.  probably  of  Cleopatra. 
Cf.  Pint.  Life  of  him,  cc.  48,  49. 

29.  Hannibal,  &c. :  Guevara  (North's  Diall  '  Certen  Letters,'  ch.  x. 
ed.  1568),  enumerating  famous  men  ensnared  by  women,  couples  '  Anibal 
with  Tamira.'  The  lady  is  unknown  to  Polybius,  Livy,  Val.  Max.,  or 
Plutarch  ;  though  '  Thamyris '  occurs  in  Boccaccio's  De  Claris  Mulieribits, 
c.  47,  for  Tomyris,  the  queen  of  Scythia.  The  fiction  is,  of  course, 
deduced  from  the  loss  of  morale  among  his  troops  at  Capua  and  after 
Cannae.  Cannas  seems  carelessly  adopted  from  some  Latin  translation  of 
Plutarch  :  cf.  p.  1 15  1. 1 1 '  Anacamsoritis '  from  an  orig.  '  anacampserotem.' 
37.  Iphis  that  hanged  himselfe  :  despairing  of  Anaxarete's  love,  Ov. 
Met.  xiv.  698-738.  Cf.  Loves  Met.  iv.  i.  15-6  and  Poems  vol.  iii.  p.  466. 

P.  113,  4.  Canace  hir  nephew :  Hyg.  Fab.  242  '  Macareus  Aeoli  filius 
propter  Canacem  sororem,  id  est  sponsam,  ipse  se  interfecit,'  and  Fab.  243 
*  Canace  Aeoli  filia  propter  amorem  Macarei  fratris,  ipsa  se  interfecit.' 
Nephew,  '  relative' ;  '  brother '  having  just  been  used  for  Biblis. 
15.  like  with',  like  willow. 

22.  enchauntedleafe:  recalling  the  Sibyl  of  A  en.  iii.  444  sqq. 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS  ENGLAND  515 

a  figure  of  Amphion,  a  CharecterofOsthanes\  p.  nol.  18  'figures, 
formes,  or  characters.'  Amphion  is  gifted  by  Apollo  with  a*  lyre  (Hor. 
Ep.  i.  1 8.  41)  and  so  perhaps  with  prophecy.  Osthanes  in  Pliny,  xxx.  2 
is  the  earliest  writer  on  magic,  who  accompanies  Xerxes  to  Greece  and 
inspires  a  rage  for  the  study. 

25.  bloud  of  Phillis'.  who  hung  herself  for  love  of  Demophoon,  Hyg. 
Fab.  59. 

P.  114,  8.  that  anye  one  .  . .  but  he  that  made  the  heart :   so  Dipsas 
(Endtm.  i.  4.  24)  '  I  differ  from  the  Gods,  that  I  am  not  able  to  rule  harts.' 

14.  mockage:  mockery,  as  in   Bible  of  1551  (2  Chron.  xviii)  and 
Middleton,  More  Dissemblers,  i.  2  (Whitney). 

20.  Parrhasius  painting  Hopplitides  :  p.  4  1.  3  note.  Pliny,  xxxv.  36, 
describing  the  picture  of  the  two  Runners,  says  nothing  of  the  motto. 

P.  115,  2.  Pyretum :  i.  e.  pyrethrum,  '  Spanish  camomile  or  pellitory ' 
(Bost.  and  Ril.  on  Pliny,  xxviii.  42). 

11.  Anacamsoritis :  Pliny,  xxiv.  102  '  Anacampserotem  .  .  .  cuius 
omnino  tactu  redirent  amores,  vel  cum  odio  depositi.' 

16.  Carisium,  £c. :  this  wondrous  herb,  and  the  Boeotian  lake,  are  as 
mythical  as  the  marvellous  Boeotian  fountains  of  Pliny,  xxxi.  II. 

24.  Apocynon  [OTTO  KWOS]  said  to  assuage  the  madness  of  dogs,  and 
to  conciliate  love,  Pliny,  xxxii.  18. 

25.  Hippomanes :  used  in  love-philtres,  Pliny,  viii.  66. 

33.  Thistle  Eryngium,  &c. :  '  Eryngion  spinosum  '  Pliny,  xxi.  56,  xxii. 
9 ;  '  Catanance,  Thessala  herba '  xxvii.  35  ;  '  Pityttsa  '  xxiv.  21. 

34.  luba  his  Charito  blepharon :   Pliny,  xiii.  52  '  luba  tradit  .  .  , 
alium  (fruticem)  qui   vocatur  charitoblepharon  [eyelid  of  the   Graces] 
efficacem  in  amatoriis ' ;  perhaps  red  coral.    Pliny  often  borrows  from  the 
history  of  Africa  by  Juba  II,  king  of  Mauretania  the  son  of  Pompey's  ally. 

Orpheus  Staphilinus :  Pliny,  xx.  1 5  *  Orpheus  amatorium  inesse 
staphylino  dixit,'  i.e.  the  mythological  Orpheus,  credited  with  much 
apocryphal  matter,  whom  Pliny,  xxv.  5,  praises  as  the  first  exact  authority 
on  plants.  The  staphylinus,  however,  was  a  kind  of  beetle. 

P.  116, 5.  Methridate :  used  in  the  general  sense  of '  sovereign  remedy ' ; 
but  strictly  an  electuary,  and  supposed  antidote  against  poisons. 

15.  Stellio :  the  spotted  lizard.     Pliny,  xxix.  28,  xxx.  27. 

30.  disputations  of  Pirrhus :  his  Italian  expedition,  280  B.C.,  was 
invited  by  the  cities  of  Magna  Graecia. 

P.  117,  2.    Circes :   the  form  is  used  in  Cornelius  Agrippa's  Opera, 
Lyons,  1531,  vol.  ii.  p.  536.     Cf.  p.  455  1.  84,  and  vol.  iii.  p.  429  1.  32. 

7.  the  sirropes  ofMacaonias,  or  the  Verses  of  Ae^ts,  or  the  Satyren  of 
Dipsas  :  a  good  illustration  of  Lyly's  loose  methods,  which  make  his  allu 
sions  so  hard  to  identify.  In  Ovid's  Art.  Am.  ii.  491  he  sees  '  Ilia 
Machaonios  superant  medicamina  succos,'  alluding  to  the  medical  services 
rendered  to  the  Greeks  by  Machaon,  son  of  Aesculapius  (//.  ii.  732,  xi. 

Ll2 


5*6  NOTES 

515) ;  and  creates  therefrom  a  *  Macaonias/  a  magician  and  victim  of  love. 
Similarly  'the  verses  of  Aeus3  are  grounded  on  the  adj.  '  Aeaea*  (formed 
from  Aeaea,  Circe's  island-home)  in  Amores,  i.  8.  1-6,  where  Dipsas 
appears,  but  not  her  'Satyren' — 'Est  quaedam  (quicumque  volet  cognoscere 
lenam,  |  Audiat)  est  quaedam,  nomine  Dipsas,  anus.  |  . . .  Ilia  magas 
artes,  Aeaeaque  carmina  novit,'  £c. 

16.  Lvcilia  .  .  .  Lucretius:  Smith  (Diet.  Class.  Biog.)  says  the  story 
is  founded  on  a  misinterpretation  of  St.  Jerome's  Ad.  Rufin.  c.  22. 
Lucretius  died  B.C.  51  or  52. 

18.  Aristotle  noteth  one,  &c.:  Lyly  alters  it,  perhaps  at  second  hand, 
from  Aristotle's  Magna  Moralia,  i.  16  (pcuri  ?rore  nva  yvvaiKa  (piXrpov  TIVL 
dovvai  Triflv,  elra  rov  avOparrov  aTTodavelv  VTTO  TOU  (piXrpov,  rr/v  8'  avdpwTrov  €V 
'Apei'w  Trayw  dnofpvyelv. 

20.  Caligula  slaine  of  Cczsonia:  Suet.  Caligula,  50  'Creditur 
potionatus  a  Caesonia  uxore,  amatorio  quidem  medicamento,  sed  quod  in 
furorem  verterit.'  Not  in  Plutarch. 

Lucitfs  Lucullus,  &c. :  Plut.,  An  Seni  Sit  Gerenda  Resp.  c.  16,  says 
that  Lucullus,  tended  in  old  age  by  his  freedman  Callisthenes,  '  creditus 
fuit  ab  eo  veneficiis  et  amatoriis  poculis  oorruptus.' 

25 — P.  118,  5.  Achimenis . . .  deformed  andvnhappy  issiie :  these  four 
teen  lines  are  adapted  from  Pliny,  xxvi.Q  'Achaemenide  coniecta  in  aciem 
hostiumtrepidare  agmina,ac  tergavertere.  Latacendari  solitamaPersarum 
rege  legatis,  ut  quocumque  venissent,  omnium  rerum  copia  abundarent,  ac 
multa  similia.  Ubinam  istae  fuere,  cum  Cimbri  Teutonique  terribili 
Marte  ululare.nt,  aut  cum  Lucullus  tot  reges  magorum  paucis  legionibus 
sterneret  ?  Curve  Romani  duces  primam  semper  in  bellis  commerciorum 
habuere  curam  ?  Cur  Caesaris  miles  ad  Pharsaliam  famem  sensit,  si 
abundantia  omnis  contingere  unius  herbae  felicitate  poterat  ? . . .  Nam  quae 
apud  eundem  Democritum  invenitur  compositio  medicament!  quo  pulchri 
bonique  et  fortunati  gignantur  liberi,  cui  unquam  Persarum  regi  tales  dedit?' 

28.  Cimbri  and  Teutoni  were  exiled  by  warre :  Lyly,  or  the  edition 
before  him,  obviously  read  '  exularent '  for  '  ulularent '  in  the  above 
quotation.  Plutarch,  Life  of  Marius,  cc.  22  sqq.  narrates  their  defeat 
B.C.  102-101,  mentioning  the  terrible  cries  of  their  allies,  the  Ambrones. 

%&.  famine  inPharsalia :  Plut.  Life  o/Pompey,  c.  68,  and  of  Caesar,  c.  39. 
P.  118,  1.  Balis  .  .  .  luba,  £c. :  Pliny,  xxv.  5  'Et  luba  in  Arabia  herba 
[bali]  revocatum  ad  vitam  hominem  tradit.' 

3.  Democritus  :  of  Abdera,  born  c.  460  B.C. 

6.  Cato  .  .  .  three  enchaunted  ivordes :  the  Elder  Cato,  author  of  the 
De  Re  Rustica,  whom  Pliny  is  always  quoting.     In  xx,  33  he  mentions 
Cato's  eulogy  of  the  cabbage,  names  three  kinds — '  selinoides,'  {  helia,'  and 
'  crambe,'  and  adds  '  Prodesse  tradit  .  .  .  oculorum   caligini   scintilla- 
tionique.' 

7.  Varro\  M.  Terentius  Varro,  the  opponent  of  Caesar,  ob.  B.C.  26. 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND 

Nearly  all  his  500  volumes  of  works  are  said  to  have  been  destroyed  by 
Gregory  VII,  but  his  treatise  on  agriculture  remains. 

12.  Philip  . . .  Olympias  his  wife :  from  Plut.  Coniug.  Praecepta,  23. 

33.  excantation :  annulling  by  a  counter  charm.  N,  E.  D.  gives  an 
instance  of  1654. 

38.  Be  not  mute,  &c. :  with  these  excellent  maxims  for  a  lover  com 
pare  Sybilla's,  Saph.  and  Phao,  ii.  4. 

P.  119,  8.  personage-,  good  looks,  as  pp.  57  1.  34,  70  1.  23,  121  1.  14. 

27.  by  assuraunce :  with  punning  allusion  to  the  betrothal  ceremony ; 
see  p.  218  1.  30  note. 

31.  Moulwarpes:  mole's.    Properly  mouldivarp,  fr.  AS.  molde,  earth, 
and  weorpan,  to  throw. 

32.  not  once  mentioned  in  theEnglishe  Courte,&.c. :  flattery  sufficiently 
contradicted  by  the  length  and  emphasis  with  which  he  treats  the  subject. 

P.  120,  8.  stande  aloofe  from  loue  andlyghtning-.  Campaspe  (iv.  4.  32) 
adds '  kinges  loue.' 

P.  121,  3.  When  Phydias  first  paynted,  £c. :  cf.  Camp.  iii.  4.  84-5. 
Pliny,  xxxv.  32,  merely  says — '  It  was  with  four  colours  only  that  Apelles, 
Echion,  Melanthius,  and  Nicomachus,  these  most  illustrious  painters, 
executed  their  immortal  works  ;  melinum  for  the  white,  Attic  sil  for  the 
yellow,  Pontic  sinopis  for  the  red,  and  atramentum  for  the  black'  (B.  and 
R.  vi.  245)— a  passage  said  to  be  founded  on  Cic.  Brutus,  c.  18.  Pliny 
has  nothing  about  Phidias  or  Zeuxis,  but  deplores  contemporary  preoccu 
pation  with  the  materials  used,  rather  than  the  genius  shown,  in  painting. 
17.  an  odde  Corner',  i.  e.  'a  puzzle,'  or  perhaps  '  a  piece  over/ 

P.  122,  21.  Venus  .  .  .  Mercury :  parents  of  Hermaphroditus,  Ov. 
Met.  iv.  285  sqq. 

P.  123,  3.  casteth :  M.  Bomb.  ii.  4.  18  *  cast  this  matter.' 

11.  hab,  nab  :  hit  or  miss,  fr.  AS.  habban,  and  nabban  (ne  habban,  not  to 
have — Skeat).  Altered  to  hob,  nob  (Tiv.  Night,  iii.  4.  262),  prob.  by  con 
fusion  with  hob,  which  H  alii  well  gives  as  a  small  piece  of  wood  set  on  end 
by  boys,  to  put  halfpence  on  to  chuck  at ;  cf.  hobler,  M.  Bomb.  v.  3.  14. 

16.  Hard  is  the  choyce,  &c. :  quoted  by  Fallace  in  Ev.  Man  out  of 
his  Hum.  v.  7. 

P.  124, 18.  stunge . . .  healed  with  the  Scorpion :  Pliny,  xxiv.  29  ;  cf.  p.  172 
1. 10,  vol.  i.  pp.  215  1. 4  note,  247  1.  29.  The  Life-History  of  British  Serpents, 
by  G.  R.  Leighton  (1901),  relates  how  '  Brusher  Mills,'  a  famous  snake- 
catcher,  cured  adder-bites  on  his  own  hands  with  oil  made  from  adders  baked 
in  an  oven  in  a  jar.  Phalangium  :  Pliny,  xxix.  27  '  in  remedio  est,  si  quis 
eiusdem  generis  alterum  percusso  ostendat.  Et  ad  hoc  servantur  mortui.' 

P.  125,  2.  Pomegranet .  .  .  kernelles'.  in  AlFs  Well,  ii.  3.  276,  Parolles 
was  'beaten  in  Italy  for  picking  a  kernel  out  of  a  pomegranate.' 

P.  127,  12.  spoyle :  soile  (E  rest)  is  perhaps  preferable,  as  metaphor 
from  a  deer  taking  soil,  or  refuge  (generally  in  water). 


fit:  NOTES 

Si.  person :    of  rank   or    social    status,  personage  being  used  of 
appearance. 
P.  128r  1.  tetars  to  be  draiven :  blisters  to  be  lanced. 

9.  Spider  .  .  .floure  into  poy son  \  i.e.  by  injecting  poison  into  it. 
P.  129,  32-4.  such  a  place  .  .  .  ofvertue:  probably  imaginary.    I  cannot 
find  it  in  the  Sonnetti. 

P.  130,  15.  Harpey.  E's  correction  of  the  unintelligible  Hare  Sea  of 
MABD  is  justified  by  Virgil's  'Virginei  volucrum  vultus'  and  'taetrum 
odorem,'y^;z.  iii.  216,228. 

18.  Basiliske-.  Pliny,  viii.  33,  after  stating  the  fatal  quality  of  the 
glance  of  the  '  catoblepas,'  says  '  Eadem  et  basilisci  serpentis  est  vis.' 

22.  prayse  at  the  parting :  ordinarily  the  proverb  emphasizes  rather 
the  preceding  disapproval,  as  Tempest,  iii.  3.  39. 

28.  vnkinde:  i.e.  not  true  to  his  kind,  not  of  good  breed,  as 
vol.  i.  206  1.  1 1 ,  249  1.  7. 

30.  Atlanta  .  .  .  Hyppomanes\  Ov.  Met.  x.  565  sqq.     Again,  p.  178 
1.  34,  vol.  i.  288  1.  32. 

P.  131,  4.  Venus  blisseth  Lions  in  the  fold :  i.  e.  favours  those  who 
combine  the  predatory  and  lamblike  qualities. 

13.  Viper,  who  beeing  stricken,  &c. :  Aelian,  De  Nat.  Animal,  i.  37 
""G^ecos  de  ft  KdQlKOiO  KaXdp-O),  pera  rrjv  npwTTjv  7T\r)yr)v  arpe/zet,  /cat  rfj  vdpxr] 
TTeftrjdeis,  ^(ru^o^et*  ei  8e  TrAfoi/a/as,  ets  6vp,ov  e'^aTrrerai. 

21.  Crocodile,  &c. :  Pliny,  viii.  31  'Terribilis  haec  contra  fugaces 
bellua  est,  fugax  contra  insequentes.' 

24.  willing  resistance'.  Hor.  Carm.  i.  9  'digito  male  pertinaci.' 

25.  Arellius :  Pliny,  xxxv.  37,  describes  Arellius  as  painting  (temp. 
August.)  goddesses  from  his  mistresses ;  but  the  only  '  Venus  Cnydia '  he 
mentions  is  Praxiteles'  statue  bought  by  the  people  of  Cnidos. 

28.  Mirre  Tree,  &c. :  Pliny,  xii.  35  '  Inciduntur  .  .  .  usque  ad  ramos 
qui  valent.  Sudant  autem  sponte,  priusquam  incidantur.' 

31.  tye  themselus  .  .  .  with  Vlysses:   Odyss.  xii.  179. 

P.  132,  7.  lupiters  Well,  &c. :  at  Dodona.  Pliny,  ii.  306  'extin 
guishes  torches  plunged  into  it,  yet,  if  they  be  brought  near  it,  kindles 
them  again ' — B.  and  R.,  who  suggest  an  exhalation  of  inflammable  gas, 
and  cite  Lucret.  vi.  879. 

9.  Naphtha  :  reversing,  for  his  simile,  Pliny,  ii.  109  'Huic  [naphthae] 
magna  cognatio  ignium,  transiliuntque  protinus  in  earn  undecumque  visam.' 

17.  Aristotles  Quadratus :  reTpayuvia-pos,  the  square.  De  Anima, 
i.  2.  i,  &c. 

24.  tent :  cf.  *  tainted,'  vol.  i.  212  1.  n  note. 

P.  134,  5.  lilly-floures :  clove-pinks  or  carnations ;  sops  in  wine,  the 
common  pink ;  sweet  lohns,  a  narrow-leaved  pink.  The  change  of  tense, 
'  wil  be,'  is  appropriate  to  these  later  blooms.  At  p.  162  1. 33  we  are  still 
only  in  Lent. 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  519 

34.  Mulbery  tree,  &c. :  because  it  blossoms  late ;  p.  5  1.  25  (Pliny, 
xvi.  41). 

36.  Prouerb  in  Italy  . . .  she  hath  eaten  a  Snake :  not  in  Baretti.  Cf. 
Basse's  Ninth  Eclogue  '  Need  eate  no  snake  with  youth  to  cover  age.' 
The  superstition  no  doubt  founded  on  the  casting  of  the  slough. 

P.  135,  31.  Protogenes,  &c. :  Pliny,  xxxv.  36  [Apelles]  *  dixit  .  .  .  uno 
se  praestare,  quod  manum  ille  [Protogenes]  de  tabula  non  sciret  tollere.3 

P.  137,  1.  besmered-.  cf.  Nash's  Pierce  Penn.  (Sh.  Soc.  p.  21)  'lookes 
as  simperingly  as  if  she  were  besmeard.' 

P.  138,  5.  court . .  .  by  customes :  take  advantage  of  social  customs  to 
make  serious  advances. 

8.  straw  is  [drawn]  by  the  Aumber :  Pliny,  xxxvii.  1 1  '  vocare  harpaga, 
quia  folia,  et  paleas,  vestiumque  fimbrias  rapiat.3     Its  electric  properties 
are  attested  by  the  borrowing  of  its  Greek  name  (^Xe/crpoi/)  for  the  late- 
recognized  force.     Of  gold  and  Chrysocolla,  Pliny,  xxxiii.  2,  merely  says 
they  are  found  in  close  proximity. 

11.  serpent . .  .  Box: .  .  .  Cypres\  only  alleged  to  dislike  ash-leaves, 
Pliny,  xvi.  24.  But  cf.  vol.  i.  219  1.  4  note  on  '  the  Ceder.' 

16.  the  droone,  £c. :  Pliny,  xi.  n  'Fucus  ademtis  alis  in  alveum 
reiectus,  ipse  ceteris  adimit.' 

19.  Dragons  .  . .  Elephant,  £c. :  founded  on  Pliny,  viii.  12. 

26.  toothlesse  .  .  .  hurteth  none :  Pliny,  xi.  62,  says  that  snakes  which 
are  handled  lack  the  poison-tooth. 

P.  139,  1.  waxe  haggard  by  manning',  grow  wild  by  the  endeavour 
to  accustom  them  to  men.  Taming  of  Shrew,  iv.  I.  196  'to  man  my 
haggard,  To  make  her  come,'  &c. 

4.  ye  My  cantons  .  .  .  borne  balde:  Pliny,  xi.  47  '  Myconii  [of  Myconos 
in  the  Aegean]  carentes  eo  [i.e.  hair]  gignuntur.'  Again,  Saph.  and  Ph. 
iii.  I.  34. 

9.  cullyng :  clasping,  as  p.  5  1.  4. 
18.  malycei  cf.  p.  41  1.  23. 

20.  Chalazias,  &c. :  fr.  xd\a£a,  hail,  from  its  shape  and  colour.     Pliny, 
xxxvii.  73  '  etiam  in  ignem  additae  manere  suum  frigus.' 

22.  dented  at:  no  other  instance  in  N.  E.  D. 

31.  Cabish  :  cabbage.     Serpent  .  .  .  Ash  tree  :  cf.note  on  p.  138  1.  n. 

32.  Theamedes'.   Pliny,  xxxvi.  25  'lapidem  theamedem,  qui  ferrum 
omne  abigit,  respuitque.' 

P.  141,  3.  thinkest  all  I  write  of  course:  i.e.  as  so  much  conventional 
rejected-lover  talk.  Cf.  vol.  i.  202  1.  22  note,  254  1.  n,  261  1.  6. 

28.  their  comming :  willingness.  In  M.  Bomb.  ii.  3.  14,  Jonson's 
Silent  Woman,  v.  i  and  Volpone,  iii.  5  the  adj.  'coming '  is  used  of  one 
who  makes  advances. 

P.  142,  8.  salfe :  OF.  saulf,  Lat.  salvus.     Cf.  '  salfely,'  p.  144  1.  6. 
9.   grasse   Trifole  .  .  .  no  serpent,  &c. :    this  superstition,  not  in 


520  NOTES 

Pliny,  is  prbbably  of  religious  origin,  the  trefoil  being  emblematic  of  the 
Trinity. 

32.  Cerberus . . .  Orpheus :  Virg.  Georg.  iv.  483  'tenuitque  inhians  tria 
Cerberus  ora.' 

P.  143,  14.  Camill  troubleth  the  water,  £c.  :  Pliny,  viii.  26  '  obturbata 
proculcatione  prius  aqua :  aliter  potu  non  gaudent.'  Again,  M.  Bomb.  v.  3. 
232,  Pappe,  vol.  iii.  p.  396  1. 16. 

19.  ivine  .  . .  Maroneum  :  i.  e.  given  to  Ulysses  by  Maron,  son  of 
Evanthes,  Odyss.  ix.  193-215,  esp.  1.  209  e«/  SeVas  efjur^tjo-as  vSa-roy  aj/a  ei/coo-i 
p.€Tpa.  Lyly  took  it  from  Pliny,  xiv.  6,  changing  the  sense  :  '  Maroneum 
vicies  tanto  addito  aquae  miscendum  Homerus  prodidit.  Durat  etiam  vis 
eadem  in  terra  generi,  vigorque  indomitus.' 

22.  Where  salt  doth  grow,  £c. :  Pliny,  xxxi.  39  '  Omnis  locus  in  quo 
reperitur  sal,  sterilis  est,  nihilque  gignit.' 

24.  falling  out  of  f rinds,  &c.  :  Ter.  Andria,  iii.  3.  23  '  Amantium,'  £c. 

25.  bones  of  the  Lyon,  £c. :  the  sole  foundation  for  this  monstrous  fable 
is  Pliny's  statement  (xi.  86)  that  a  lion's  bones  (except  of  the  thigh  and 
fore-arm)  are  '  tanta  duritia,  ut  ignis  elidatur,  velut  e  silice.' 

28.  Cucurbits :  lit.  gourd,  used  for  a  gourd-shaped  vessel  or  retort 
(Gallathea,  ii.  3.  18),  and  medically  for  a  cupping-glass.  N.  E.  D.  gives  an 
instance  from  R.  Copland's  Galyerfs  Terapeutyke  (1541). 

P.  144,  11.  Crocadile  .  .  .  birde  to  breede\  i.e.  the  Trochilus,  Pliny, 
viii.  37,  breede  being  Lyly's  addition.  Cf.  Camp.  p.  315  1.  22,  Euph.  i.  193. 
13.  JLyon  . . .  helped  his  foote :  Aelian,  De  Nat.  Animal,  vii.  48,  relates 
the  story  of  Androcles  spared  in  the  arena  by  the  lion  from  whose  foot  he 
had,  in  Africa,  extracted  a  thorn.  Pliny,  viii.  21,  merely  relates  how  a  lion, 
by  fawning  on  Mentor  of  Syracuse,  induced  him  to  extract  a  splinter  from 
his  foot. 

P.  145,  37.  sting  of  an  Aspe  .  .  .  cut  off'.  Plin.  viii.  35  'aspidum  ictus 
nullo  remedio,  praeterquam  si  confestim  partes  contactae  amputentur.' 
Pearcedin,  driven  into. 

P.  147,  6.  luory  .  .  .  seasoned  with  Zittho,  &c. :  nothing  under  '  zythum,' 
the  Egyptian  cereal  of  Pliny,  xxii.  82. 

19.   Wine  .  .  .  Firre  'vessels  .  .  .  death  :  because  fir  is  resinous. 
22.  by  intention  :  by  tightening. 

26.  Scithians  .  .  .  ivhippes  :  from  Herodotus,  iv.  3,  doubtful  if  at  first 
hand.     Again,  Pappe,  vol.  iii.  p.  396  1.  22. 

81.  hearbe  whereon  the  Beare  hath  brethed:  Plin.  xi.  115  '  Contacta 
halitu  eius  nulla  fera  attingit.' 

P.  148, 22.  mammering :  p.  75  1.  25,  vol.  i.  253  1. 14.  Not  onomatopoeic, 
but  expressing  paralyzed  powers.  AS.  mamor,  deep  sleep. 

28.  hearbe  in  India  .  .  .  serpents  :  Plin.  xii.  18  'herba  praecipui  odoris 
referta  minutis  serpentibus,'  £c. 

34.  Box. . .  seedeispoyson :  Plin.  xvi.  28  '  cunctis  animantibus  invisum.' 


EUPHUES  AND  HIS   ENGLAND  521 

34.  Tilia,  &c.  :  the  linden.  Plin.  xvi.  25  '  fructum  a  nullo  animalium 
attingi :  foliorum  corticisque  succum  esse  dulcem.' 

P.  150,  17.  gestes  and  fish,  £c. :  as  on  p.  81  1.  13  (note). 
P.  151,  4.  a  Diapason  :  explained  by  N.  E.  D.  here  as  a  '  combination 
of  notes  in  a  harmonious  whole.'    The  word  emphasizes  the  harmonious 
ending  or  result :  cf.  '  The  Diapason  closing  full  in  Man,'  Dryden's  Ode 
for  St.  Cecilia's  Day. 

P.  152,  12.  none  ought . . .  so  to  loue  . .  .  to  hate  :  Lyly,  I  think,  did  not 
know  Sophocles : 

o  T    CX&POS  finiv  e?  T0(roi> 
o)S  Kal  <pi\fj(TQ>v  avdis,  fs 
roa-avd*  inrovpy&v  a><£eXe«/ 
MS-  auv  ov  fjLfvovvra.     (Ajax,  679  sqq.) 

22.  Wool^  which  the  Seres  sende:  i.e.  silk.  Virg.  Georg.  ii.  121 
'Velleraque  ut  foliis  depectant  tenuia  Seres.'  Cf.  Endim.  i.  3.  53,  'not 
Silkes,  nor  Tyssues,  nor  the  fine  wooll  of  Seres' ;  Sapho,  iii.  I.  38. 

P.  153,  13.  long  peace  :  the  desultory  war  with  France,  begun  on  Philip's 
motion  in  1557,  and  marked  by  the  loss  of  Calais  1558,  by  help  sent  to  the 
Scotch  Reformers  1560,  and  to  the  Huguenots  1562,  was  concluded  by  a 
peace  in  1566,  which  remained  unbroken  in  1580.  On  p.  209  1.  37  Lyly 
says  the  temple  of  Janus  has  been  shut  for  *  twentie  yeares.' 

wrinckle  :  fold,  twist,  and  so  device  ;  like  Greek  TrXemi/  TrXoKay  and 
Lat.  nectere  dolos.  One  or  two  other  phrases  in  the  correct  Euphues  are 
unconsciously  reproduced  by  modern  slang,  e.g. '  haue  no  shew,'  vol.  i.  191 
1.  13,  209  1.  32,  321  1.  8,  'grauelled,'  below,  1.  25  (  =  stuck  in  the  gravel). 

P.  155.  23.  trayned :  drawn  ;  call  contains  a  pun  (caule)  on  the  follow 
ing  nette. 

P.  156,  2.  with  nothing  lesse  then  loue :  i.  e.  with  anything  but  love. 

3.  thy  sweete  heart  now  in  Naples  :  cf.  p.  34  1.  7  '  she  vpon  whome 
I  gesse  thou  harpest.' 

P.  159.  3.  the  ende  . . .  of  loue  wedding^  not  wooing :  cf.  Venus  in  Woman 
in  the  Moone,  iii.  2.  21-4 : 

'  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.' 

14.  Phrigius  and  Pieria  :  from  Plut.  De  Mulierum  Virtutibus,  c.  16. 
Above,  vol.  i.  p.  257  1.  36,  note. 

P.  160,  9.  smell  to  :  as  in  M.  Bomb.  ii.  2.  17.     Cf.  '  seeke  to,'  p.  no 

1.2. 

P.  161,  2.  and  then — /  :  I  believe  Lyly  intends  a  playful  aposiopesis, 
implying  his  certainty  of  their  agreeing  with  him. 

16.  greene  Rushes :  a  proverb  for  ceremony  ;  *  green  '=  fresh :  Hey- 
wood's  Proverbes,  1546  '  Greene  rushes  for  this  stranger'  (Repr.  p.  102). 


S22  NOTES 

Cf.  Saph.  and  Phao,  ii.  4.  98  *  straungers  haue  greene  rushes,  when 
daily  guests  are  not  worth  a  rushe.' 

P.  161,  29.  knewe  his  good :  of  good  breeding  and  civil  behaviour.  In 
Loves  Metam.  iii.  2.  70,  the  merchant  reassures  Protea  with  '  Come 
with  me,  and  you  shall  see  that  Marchaunts  know  their  good  as  well  as 
Gentlemen.'  Perhaps  also  Midas,  iii.  3.  41. 

P.  162,  6.  my  wit  .  .  .  grosse  diot,  &c. :  in  Tw.  Night,  i.  3.  90  Sir 
Andrew  says,  '  I  am  a  great  eater  of  beef,  and,  I  believe,  that  does  harm 
to  my  wit.'  In  Tro.  and  Cress,  ii.  i.  14  Thersites  calls  Ajax  '  beef-witted' 
(Aldis  Wright). 

36.  Chestes :  so  Pappe,  vol.  iii.  p.  395  1.  5  ;  i.e.  chess,  which  is  a  corrup 
tion  of  the  plural  checks,  fr.  OF.  esc/zecs,  =  Kings  (Skeat).  Halliwell  quotes 
ljoueraux  eschets,  to  play  at  chests  or  tables,'  Nomenclator  (1585),  p.  294. 

P.  163, 12.  friendship  .  .  .  by  .  .  .  certeine  odde persons  defaced',  perhaps 
referring  to  Puritan  dislike  of  social  pastimes. 

19.  Euphues  shal  be  as  iudge :  this  social  custom  of  discourse  on  a 
set  subject  under  the  presidency  of  one  of  the  company  was  Italian  in  its 
origin,  though  it  had  no  doubt  been  generally  adopted  in  cultivated 
European  society.  It  forms  the  framework  of  many  Italian  tales,  the 
earliest  instance  being  found  perhaps  in  Boccaccio's  Filocopo,  composed 
about  1339,  and  translated  under  the  title  of  A  pleasaunt  disport  of  diners 

Noble  Personages. . .  Englished  by  H.G London  ...  1567  (reprinted  1571 

and  1587),  and  a  later  instance  in  Castiglione's  //  Cortegiano  (Venice  1528 
fol.  translated  by  Sir  Thos.  Hoby,  1 561) ;  while  it  appears  in  original  English 
literature  in  William  Bercher's  MS.  The  Nobylytye  off  Wymen,  1559,  in 
Tylney's  Flower  of  Friendship,  1568,  and  in  *  The  Aduentures  passed  by 
Master  F.I.'  in  Gascoigne's  Hundreth sundrie  Flowres,  1 573,  p.  262.  With 
the  two  latter  works  Lyly  was  clearly  acquainted  (Introd.  vol.  i.  pp.  158-9), 
and  the  following  quotation  from  The  Flower  of  Friendship,  fol.  A  5,  shows 
that  in  writing  the  preceding  thirty  lines  or  so  he  had  Tylney's  little  book 
open  before  him — *  [After  dinner]  the  Lady  lulia  deuised  w*  the  company 
in  what  pastimes  we  should  spende  the  after  noone.  Some  liked  well  of 
carding  and  dicing,  some  of  dauncing,  and  other  some  of  Chestes,  al  which 
were  condemned,  by  the  moste  part,  who  alleged  that  those  Pastimes  were 
not  aunswerable  to  the  tyme  of  the  yeare,  but  more  meete  for  Christmas  : 
and  therefore  suche  games  were  fittest,  y*  might  be  used  abrode  in  the 
fields,  as  bowling,  shooting  and  such  other  lyke.  But  Mr.  Pedro,  nothing 
at  all  lyking  of  such  deuises,  wherein  the  Ladies  should  be  left  out,  said  : 
y*  he  wel  remembred  how  Boccace  &  Countie  Baltizer  [i.  e.  Baldassarre  di 
Castiglione]  with  others  recouted  many  proper  deuises,  for  exercise,  both 
pleasaunt  &  profitable,  which  (quoth  he)  were  vsed  in  ye  courts  of  Italic, 
and  some  much  like  to  them,  are  practised  at  this  day  in  the  English 
court,  wherein  is  not  only  delectation,  but  pleasure  ioyned  with  profite, 
and  exercise  of  the  wit.'  Cf.  above,  p.  137  11.  3-6. 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  523, 

24.  sting  of  an  Aspe  .  .  .  dimme  eyes :   hastily  from  Pliny,  viii.  35 
(cf.  p.  145  1.  37),  where  the  asp's  'hebetes  oculos  '  hinder  it  from  stinging, 
not  lessen  the  effects  of  the  sting. 

P.  164,  10.  Torteise  in  India,  &c. :  i.  e.  the  turtle.  Pliny  ix.  12  'quae 
voluptas  libere  spirandi  in  tantum  fallit  oblitas  sui,  ut  Solis  vapore  siccato 
cortice,  non  queant  mergi,  invitaeque  fluitent,  opportunae  venantium 
praedae.' 

P.  165,  10.  to  some  .  . .  thought  courteous :  '  to  some '  with  '  thought,'  as 
p.  84  1.  27  l  was  thought  to  Euphues  courtly,'  &c. 

30.  ring .  .  .  touched  with  the  Loadstone  .  .  .  come  to  a  chaine :  Pliny, 
xxxiv.  42  (De  magnete)  '  aliud  apprehendens  ferrum,  ut  annulorum  catena 
spectetur  interdum.'  Cf.  p.  121  1.  16. 

P.  166,  14.  lenet:  properly  a  small  Spanish  horse,  from  Arab  zettdta, 
a  Barbary  tribe  (Skeat). 

35.  Rhodope :  i.  e.  Rhodopis,  the  Alexandrian  courtesan,  once  a  fellow 
slave  of  Aesop,  Pliny,  xxxvi.  17  ;  Aelian,  Var.  Hist.  xiii.  33. 

P.  167,  7.  tall  trees  in  Ida,  £c. :  the  nearest  reference  seems  to  be 
Pindar,  frag.  126  (quoted  Plut.  De  Exilic,  c.  9)  lE\a<ppav  nvrrdpiaaov  $tXeeti/  j 
eav  fie  vop&v  Kpyras  TreptSaioi/.  But  Ida  properly  means  '  wood.' 

37.  Adamant:  the  word  by  which  Lyly  always  translates  Pliny's 
'magnes.'  Cf.  vol.  i.  321  1.  2  (note). 

P.  168,  6.  fire  is  in  thefiinte . . .  not  in  the  steele :  the  Bodleian  edition  of 
1630  has  the  following  manuscript  note, '  Of  the  1,001  Vulgar  Errors  in  this 
most  singular  Book,  this  error  is  the  very  opposite  of  truth.  The  fire  is  in 
the  steel,  and  in  the  steel  only.  The  collision  fuses  a  particle  of  steel, 
which  is  visible  from  its  becomming  of  a  red,  or  white,  heat  from  the 
strength  and  quickness  of  the  friction,  1829,  J.  Maude.' 

16.  Venus  saide  in  one  eye  to  haue  two  Apples :  i.  e.  two  pupils,  and 
therefore  to  be  doubly  attractive. 

25.  gloase :    flattery,    with   allusion   also  to    strained   pulpit   inter 
pretation. 

33.  in  print',  as  the  acme  of  neat  and  fine  appearance.  Whitney 
quotes  Anat.  of  Mel.  p.  539  '  He  must  speak  in  print,  walk  in  print,'  &c., 
and  Jonson's  Staple  of  News,  i.  i  *  Fits  my  ruff  well  ? '  '  In  print.' 

P.  169,  17.  Chius,  who,  &c. :  Plut.  De  Tranquil.  Animi,  c.  8  ov8ev  rt 

rov   Xi'ou  /SeXruflv  .yevo^fvos,  6s  iroKvv  KCU   xprj&Tov  olvov   (repots  TTiTrpocrKcoj/, 
eaurcS  TTpos  TO  apKTTOv  O^LVTJV  e£V]ret  8iayfvofj.€vos. 

23.  camocke  :  see  vol.  i.  196  1.  i  note. 

24.  content,  that  ofye  worst  poore  helpe  patience  :  perhaps  requires 
transposition;  or  poore  may  be  for  'poverty,'  as  'fair'  for  'beauty.'     In 
Piers  Plowman,  C  Text,  99  I  find  '  So  that  poure  pacient  is  parfitest  lif  of 
alle.' 

P.  170,  16.  eyes  of  Catoblepas :  Pliny,  viii.  32,  where  the  basilisk  follows, 
which  supports  my  emendation. 


524  NOTES 

22.  heedie:  heedful.     N.  E.  D.  gives  instances  of  1548, 1581  and  1645. 
P.  171,  4.  in  Chio  the  Image  of  Diana,  &c. :  not  in  Plutarch  or  Pliny. 
Cf.  about  Praxiteles'  Flora,  p.  77  1.  25  note. 

29.  Serapus,  &c. :  not  to  be  identified  ;  perhaps  a  misprint. 

30.  sparke  . .  .  eyes  of  Actina  :  imaginary  personification  of  a/m's,  a>os, 
a  ray.     Cf.  '  Lauia '  from  lavare,  p.  190  1.  5. 

P.  172,  5.  Quaile  from  Hemlocke :  Plin.  x.  33  '  Coturnicibus  veneni 
semen  gratissimus  cibus.' 

8.  Rubarbe'.  Plin.  xxvii.  105  'rhacoma'  (Pontic  rhubarb)  has  a  hot 
flavour,  and  allays  inflammation. 

9.  Scorpions  sting:  see  above,  p.  124  1.  18  note. 
13.  suspect  him  :  i.  e.  himself. 

18.  Lunaris  hearbe :  I  find  no  authority  for  this,  nor  for  the  dreams 
of  weddings  and  dances  it  causes  to  the  sick  in  Saph.  and  Ph.  iii.  3.  43-5. 
A  lunary-bank  figures  Endim.  ii.  3,  &c. 

24.  speaking  in  his  cast :  i.  e.  in  his  part,  interrupting  him,  as  p.  55  1. 6 
and  M.  Bomb.  v.  3.  20. 

26.  trewant  in  :  truant  from. 

P.  173, 10.  wist)  as  on  p.  181 1.  n,  erroneously  as  a  present ;  really,  past 
of  wit. 

13.  refelled:  refuted,  as  pp.  109  1.  28,  133  1.  15. 

P.  174,  13.  sew  a  pond,  &c. :  drain  off,  exhaust  a  pond  (here,  of  its  fish). 
ME.  sew  en,  dry,  wipe,  fr.  OF.  essuier — it  survives  in  sewer.  The  statute 
prohibiting  the  sale  of  meat  in  Lent,  and  the  enjoining  of  fish-days  always 
(Wed.  Fri.  Sat.)  was  not  so  much  religious,  as  to  encourage  fisheries  and 
economize  animals  (Malone's  note,  2  Henry  VI,  iv.  3.  6). 

P.  176,  10.  stone  . . .  Cranes . . .  mountaines,  &c. :  so  above,  p.  6 1.2,  refer 
ring  to  Plut.  De  Garrttlitate,  c.  14  '  geese,  when  they  be  to  take  a  flight  into 
Cilicia  over  the  mountaine  Taurus,  which  is  full  of  eagles,  take  up  every 
one  in  their  bill  a  good  big  stone  ...  to  restraine  their  gagling.'  Lyly  con 
fuses  the  passage  with  that  about  cranes  in  Pliny,  x.  30. 

P.  177,  4.  no  perfect  Musike  . .  .  with  one  string:  the  Bodleian  copy  of 
1630  has  a  manuscript  note  *  Paganini  would  frequently  average  five  Guineas 
a  minute  by  playing  upon  one  string  ! ' — born  1784,  first  concert  1793. 
15.  Emerald  which  cracketh,  &c. :  nothing  in  Pliny,  xxxvii.  16-19. 

19.  serpent  laculus  &*  the  Uiper,  who  burst  with  their  owne  brood: 
p.  5  1.  5.     Pliny,  x.  82,  says  that  after  the  viper  has  given  birth  to  twenty 
young,  one  a   day,  '  ceterae,  tarditatis  impatientes,  perrumpunt  latera, 
occisa  parente.'     The  iaculus  is  mentioned,  viii.   35,  merely  as  darting 
from  trees. 

P.  178,  20.  suspition  :  implication,  supposition. 

22.  Painter  Tamantes :  i.  e.  Timanthes,  as  p.  22  1.  24,  who  portrayed 
Agamemnon's  unpicturable  grief  for  Iphigeneia  by  veiling  his  face  (Plin. 
xxxv.  36,  §§  3-6). 


EUPHUES  AND   HIS   ENGLAND  525 

27.  thornes  thrust  into  mine :  p.  185  1.  31,  as  excuse  for  not  stirring. 
32.  at  the  receite :  of  a  toil  or  trap  into  which  the  game  was  driven. 
Again,  Loves  Met.  v.  4.  5.    Cf.  Harl.  MS.  6910,  f.  162  *  But  list,  alas,  Loues 
Beagles  be  vncoupeld,  Beautie  praites  |  And  driues  my  Hart  from  out  the 
thicks,  and  at  Receite  awaites.' 

34.  Hippomanes:  Ov.  Met.  x.  565-605. 

P.  179,  4.  shorte  heeles  :  euphemism  for  frailty  in  women,  explained  by 
Gosynhyll's  (?)  The  Schole  Howse  of  Woman,  c.  1540  (E.  V.  Utterson's 
'  Select  Pieces  of  Early  Popular  Poetry,'  1817,  vol.  ii.  p.  75) 
'  The  fowler  she  is,  the  sooner  it  is  doon  ; 
S6  short  of  heel  they  be  oner  all, 
That  if  ye  blowe  they  must  needs  fall.* 

High  instep :  of  pride,  vol.  i.  202  1. 24  and  Endim.  ii.  2. 34.  The  two  phrases 
are  coupled  of  a  froward  lady  in  Midas,  iii.  3.  33. 

15.  feete . .  .founder:  of  a  swimmer  attacked  by  cramp  in  cold  water. 
P.  180,  15.  vmper:  umpire.     ME.  vmper  e,  properly  nompere,  fr.  OF. 

nomper,  '  not  equal '  (Whitney). 

21.  a  lawe  among  the  Persians,  £c. :  or,  at  least,  it  may  have  been. 
P.  181,  15.  minuit'.  M  has  same  spelling,  p.  143  1.  12. 

18.  ryuer  Callus  :  Pliny,  xxxi.  5,  notes  it  as  good  for  the  stone,  '  sed 
ibi  in  potando  necessarius  modus,  ne  lymphatos  agat.' 

21.  Lycurgus  .  .  .  vynes destroyed:    Plut.  De  Aud.  Poetis ,  c.  I 

Oufie   yap   ovde   Apvavros  vlos  Kparepos  AvKoopyos   vyiaivovra   vovv   flx*vi   ^Tl 

TToXXoDl/  fJLe6v(TKOfJl.eVG)V  KOi  TTapOlVOVVTO)!/)  TO.S    a/j,7T€\OVS  TTfpudbv   e^CKOTTTfV,  K.T.A. 

Also  alluded  to  De  Virt.  Mor.  c.  12. 

25.  profitable  for  no  other  thing  but  mettalles  :  Plin.  xxxviii.  21.     Cf. 
Gall.  Prol.,  note,  Mid.  i.  i.  64. 

30.  Goat .  . .  neuer  withoztt  an  aigue :  Plin.  viii.  76  '  nee  unquam  febri 
carere,'  from  Varro. 

32.  Nightingale,  &c. :  Plin.  x.  43  (of  two  contending)  '  Victa  morte 
finit  saepe  vitam,  spiritu  prius  deficiente,  quam  cantu.' 

P.  182,  3.  these  louing  ivormes  :  Camp.  v.  4.  127  '  Two  louing  wormes, 
Hephestion';  M.  Bomb.  ii.  2.  15  'the  louing  worme  my  daughter"; 
Tempest,  iii.  1.31'  Poor  worm  !  thou  art  infected.' 

P.  183,  1.  he  would  haue  saide,  &c. :  i.  e.  he  really  meant  that  men,  not 
women,  ought  to  feel  jealousy. 

16.  bounde  a  woman  to  patience,  £c. :  Frances'  view  is  perhaps  from 
Lady  Isabella  in  Tylney's  Flower  of  Friendship,  D  viii.  recto,  '  as  meete 
is  it,  that  the  husband  obey  the  wife,'  £c. 

32.  Panace:  Plin.  xxv.  n  '  Panaces  ipso  nomine  omnium  morborum 
remedia  promittit.' 

33.  Nepenthes  :    Plin.  xxv.  5,  plant  conferring  oblivion   of  sorrow 
given  to  Helen  by  Polydamna  (Od.  iv.  221). 

36.  stone  Dr aconites  . .  .  Lapidarie  burne  it :  Plin.  xxxvii.  57  merely 


526  NOTES 

says   'Esse  autem    candore  translucido,  nee  postea  poliri,  aut  artem 
admittere.' 

P.  184,  3.  stone  Pansura :  stone  and  name  (fr.  <rvpa>)  seem  alike  Lyly's 
coinage. 

4.  three  rootes  .  .  .  to  Musicke  :  Plut.  Sympos.  i.  5  '  Three  principall 
causes  or  roots  there  be  of  Musick,  to  wit,  paine  or  griefe,  pleasure  or  joy, 
and  the  ravishment  of  the  spirit '  (Holland). 

8.  hearbe  Adyaton^  £c. :  (a  and  8vw)  another  coinage,  apparently. 

15.  roote  ofye  Reede  .  .  .force  :  Pliny,  xxiv.  50  '  The  root  of  the  reed, 
pounded  and  applied  to  the  part  affected,  extracts  the  prickles  of  fern  from 
the  body,  the  root  of  the  fern  having  a  similar  effect  upon  splinters  of  the 
reed '  (Bostock  and  Riley). 

P.  185,  4.  Ladyes  .  .  .  Gentle-women :  i.  e.  titled  and  untitled.  Again 
in  the  second  prefatory  Address  to  this  Part. 

6.  smacke:  taste,  passing  like  'taste'  into  the  sense  of  'inclina 
tion.' 

31.  t homes  in  hisheele'.  apparently  a  proverbial  excuse  for  not  stir 
ring.  Above,  p.  178  1.  27. 

P.  187,  21.  either-,  probably  for  either 's. 

22.  Euphues  cryed  quittance :  i.  e.  showed  the  same  reserve  as  Fidus 
had  originally  showed,  pp.  38  sqq. 

P.  188,  6.  haue  an  eye  to  the  mayne  .  .  .  the  buy : ,  i.  e.  don't  neglect 
important  affairs  in  attending  to  the  minor  matters  of  amusement  and 
exercise.  Dicing  phraseology,  as  vol.  i.  245  1.  16. 

35.  within  fewe  dayes  .  .  .  arryued  at  Athens :  in  bad  weather  the 
voyage  from  Naples  to  Dover  had  occupied  '  eight  weekes,'  p.  34  1.  19. 

P.  189,  25.  little  dogges  from  Malta  :  Harrison  in  his  Description 
of  Britain?,  iii.  7.  p.  230  a,  describes  them  as  '  little  and  prettie,  proper 
and  fine,  and  sought  out  far  and  neere  to  satisfie  the  nice  delicacie  of 
daintie  dames  .  .  .  Sybariticall  puppies  .  .  .  meet  plaiefellowes  for  minsing 
mistresses  to  beare  in  their  bosoms.' 

P.  190,  5.  Lauia,  who,  &c. :  there  was  a  Roman  gens,  Lavia  or  Labia, 
but  Lyly  evidently  coins  the  name  from  lavare,  to  suit  his  imaginary 
illustration,  as  with  '  Actina,'  p.  171  1.  30. 

10.  but  one :  i.  e.  Elizabeth. 

P.  191,  1.  Euphues  Glasse  for  Europe  :  largely  founded  on  William 
Harrison's  Description  of  Britaine  prefixed  to  Holinshed's  Chronicle 

(1577). 

3-11.  There  is  an  Isle  . . .  Promonterie :  these  nine  lines  verbally  from 
Harrison's  second  chapter,  which  names  the  Promontory  '  Caledonium 
&  Orchas.' 

13.  the  Giauntes-.  'Albion  the  giant'  is  mentioned  as  settling  in 
Britain  in  Harrison's  fourth  chapter,  and  ch.  v  is  devoted  to  discussing 
*  whether  giaunts  inhabited  in  this  ile  or  not.' 


EUPHUES'  GLASS  FOR  EUROPE  527 

14.  Languages  .  .  .  kyngdomes  .  .  .  Religions  .  .  .  before  . . .  Christ : 
the  subjects  of  Harrison's  sixth,  seventh,  and  ninth  chapters  respectively. 

23.  twentie  and  sixe  Cities :  this  is  the  number  stated  in  Harrison, 
bk.  ii.  ch.  13,  i.e.  the  number  of  cathedral-towns,  counting,  as  he  explains, 
only  Bath  for  Bath  and  Wells,  and  Lichfield  for  Lichfield  and  Coventry. 
The  list  is  given  on  fol.  192  b,  '  London,  Yorke,  Canterburie,  Winchester, 
Cairleill,    Durham,     Elie,     Norwich,     Lincolne,    Worcester,    Glocester, 
Hereford,    Salisburie,    Excester,    Bath,   Lichfield,    Bristow,    Rochester, 
Chester,  Chichester,  Oxford,  Peterborow,  Landaffe,  S.  Dauids,  Bangor, 
S.  Asaph.' 

29.  unto  the  fall  Middway  :  i.  e.  to  the  point  where  the  Medway  falls 
into  it,  a  river  spelt  'Midwaie'  by  Harrison,  ch.  n.  I  cannot  find  the 
measurement,  1 80  miles,  in  Harrison,  but  it  is  near  enough,  and  conclusive 
against  'Middway'  meaning  'at  half-course.'  Lippincott's  Gazetteer 
measures  215  miles  to  the  Nore. 

32.  diners  Hospitals,  &c. :  these  details  about  London  must  be  of 
Lyly's  personal  knowledge.      Not    even    Fitzstephen's   account   (temp. 
Henry  II)  was  available,  being  first  printed  with  Stow's  Survey,  1598. 
Existing   Hospitals,   not   surgical,  but  for  affording  board  and  lodging 
to   poor  or  sick  persons,  were  Christ   Church,  St.    Bartholomew's,    St. 
Thomas',  Bridewell,  Bethlehem,  St.  Katharine's,  the  Charterhouse,  the 
Savoy,  Trinity  College,  £c.     (See  Stow,  bk.  i.  chs.  26,  27.) 

33.  a  glory ous  Burse  .  .  .  the  RyollExchaung'.  on  Cornhill,  erected 
1566  (Stow,  ii.  ch.  8). 

P.  192,  12.    soiourns\    I  find  no  parallel  instance  of  soiourns,   the 
reading  of  MAB.     Middle  English  spelling  has  the  suffix. 

18.  woulde  they  had  it :  i.  e.  would  the  lusty  youths  had  it.  Lyly  pro 
bably  means  a  hit  against  the  usurers. 

21.  two  and  tiventie  Byshops :  this  number  is  inconsistent  with  the 
*  twentie  and  sixe  Cities '  of  p.  191 1.  23  ;  but  from  the  list  of  Bishops  that  sat 
in  Parliament  in  1563  Harrison,  p.  165,  omits  Oxford  and  Bristol,  and 
Lyly  perhaps  omits,  further,  the  two  Archbishop  (in  Pappe,  vol.  iii.  p.  407 
1.  3,  he  speaks  of  '  xxiiij  Bishops ') ;  or  else  he  excludes  the  four  Welsh 
sees — cf.  note  on  1.  23,  above. 

P.  193,  5.  1  was  my.  selfe  in  either :  Lyly  took  his  degree  at  both. 

18.  buildings  are  not  very  stately:  so  Harrison,  bk.  ii.  ch.  12  'Of 
the  maner  of  building,'  &c. 

21.  munition,  &c. :  Harrison,  ii.  16,  *  Of  armour  and  munition,' 
laments  the  decay  of  archery,  but  commends  the  skill  of  the  English 
with  the  caliver  and  the  pike,  and  describes  the  ordnance  of  different 
weight. 

22-6.  there  armour ...  sowed  in  the  same',  verbally  from  Harrison, 
ii.  16. 

24.  Almaine  Riuetts'.  armour  made  with  short  plates  connected  by 


528  NOTES 

rivets  sliding  in  slot -holes  so  as  to  allow  of  the  plates  overlapping,  first 
used  by  the  Germans  about  1450  (Whitney). 

24.  tacks :  defensive  coat  for  foot-soldiers,  of  which  *  jacket  *  is  a 
diminutive.  Chapman,  Iliad,  iii,  speaks  of  '  Jacks  well  quilted  with  soft 
wool '  (Whitney). 

28.  Their  nattie  . .  .fishermen :  verbally  from  Harrison,  ii.  17,  p.  200 b. 

31.  saile  nyne  hundered  myles  in  a  weeke,  &c. :  so  Harrison,  p.  20 ib 
of  '  well  builded  vessells.'  In  the  Bodleian  copy  of  1630,  '  J.  Maude '  writes 
1  In  the  days  of  Geo.  4th  Ships  will  sail  above  2000  miles  in  a  week,  and 
Birds  more  than  400  miles  in  a  Day.3  In  1900  we  steam  from  Liverpool 
to  New  York  (3016  miles)  in  about  six  days ;  while  the  Standard  of 
Oct.  17  records  that  a  homing  pigeon,  tossed  at  Marennes  on  the  Bay 
of  Biscay  south  of  Rochelle  at  4.45  a.m.  on  July  10,  reached  Newcastle-on- 
Tyne  (630  miles)  at  5.8  a.m.  July  n. 

33.  foure  bathes,  £c. :  Harrison,  ii.  23  (ad  init.),  who  speaks  of 
St.  Vincents  and  Halliewell  as  '  places  more  obscure  than  the  other  two, 
and  yet  not  seldom  sought  vnto  by  such  as  stand  in  need.'  The  St.  Vincent 
Rocks  near  the  Clifton  suspension-bridge  preserve  the  name  of  the  hot 
springs  once  frequented  there.  Of  Holywell  in  Flintshire,  on  the  Dee, 
Camden,  Britannia,  1586,  p.  394,  says  'Haliwell,  i.(e.)  fons  sacer,  Wene- 
fridas  virginis  memoria  ...  &  musco  gratissimi  odoris  longe  est  cele- 
berrimus.  Ex  quo  emanat  fluuiolus  statim  eximius,  pdrque  molas  agendas, 
tanto  impetu  proruit.' 

P.  194,  4.  Concerning  their  dyot,  &c. :  Harrison,  ii.  ch.  6  '  In  number 
of  dishes  and  change  of  meat,  the  nobilitie  of  England  ...  do  most  exceed,' 
p.  1 66  a;  'The  gentlemen  and  merchants  keepe  much  about  one  rate, 
and  each  of  them  contenteth  himselfe  with  foure,  five,  or  six  dishes,3 
p.  167 a;  while  on  p.  i68a  he  mentions  the  silence  and  sobriety  that 
mark  their  meals. 

8.  hauing  halfe  dyned  .  .  .  Maior  of  London :  i.  e.  '  after  but  a  poor 
meal,'  not  'midway  through  the  meal.'  The  saying  is  attributed  by 
Harrison,  p.  168  a,  to  husbandmen  and  artificers,  'if  they  happen  to  stumble 
vpon  a  peece  of  venison,  and  a  cup  of  wine  or  verie  strong  beere  or  ale.' 

15.  The  attire  they  vse,  &c. :  this  paragraph  is  grounded  on 
Harrison,  ii.  7,  where  mention  is  made  of  '  Morisco  gouns 3  and  '  Bar 
barian  sleeues  '  [i.  e.  of  Barbary],  *  the  Spanish  guise,'  '  the  French  toies ' ; 
and  where  the  picture  of  a  naked  man  with  a  piece  of  cloth  and  pair  of  shears 
is  said  to  have  been  the  only  resource  of  one  who  set  about  to  describe 
English  costume.  The  picture  was  painted  in  1570,  as  part  of  the  deco 
ration  of  the  gallery  of  the  Earl  of  Lincoln,  in  which  national  characteris 
tics  were  represented,  by  the  Fleming,  Lucas  de  Heere,  court-painter  to 
Elizabeth,  who  died  1584.  (English  and  American  Painters,  by  Buxton 
and  Koehler,  p.  20.)  The  story  recurs  in  Coryat's  Crudities  (1611),  and 
is  reproduced  in  Fairholt's  note  on  the  Prologue  to  Midas* 


EUPHUES'  GLASS   FOR  EUROPE  529 

27.  The  lawes  they  vse,  &c. :  these  details  are  all  taken,  without  change 
or  importation  of  fresh  matter,  from  Harrison,  ii.  9  'Of  the  lawes  of 
England,'  where  on  p.  1790  we  find  'We  haue  therefore  in  England 
sundrie  lawes,  and  first  of  all  the  ciuill,  vsed  in  the  chancerie,  admeraltie, 
and  diuerse  other  courts  .  .  .  We  haue  also  a  great  part  of  the  Canon  law 
dailie  practised  among  vs,  especiallie  in  cases  of  tithes,  contracts  of  matri- 
monie,  and  such  like,  as  are  vsuallie  to  be  scene  in  the  consistories  of  our 
bishops  and  higher  courts  of  the  two  archbishops  .  .  .  The  third  sort  of 
lawes  that  we  haue  are  our  owne  [=  Lyly's  'lawes  of  the  Crowne']  .  .  . 
The  regiment  that  we  haue  therefore  after  our  owne  ordinances,  dependeth 
vpon  three  lawes,  to  wit,  Statute  law,  Common  law,  Customarie  law  and 
Prescription  .  .  .  The  first  is  deliuered  vnto  vs  by  parlement,  which  court 
...  is  the  highest  of  all  other,  £  consisteth  of  three  seuerall  sorts  of  people, 
that  is  to  saie,  the  nobilitie,  cleargie,  and  commons  of  this  realme  .  .  .  The 
Common  law  standeth  vpon  sundrie  maximes  or  principles,  and  yeares 
or  termes  .  .  .  Certes  these  cases  are  otherwise  called  plees  or  actions  etc. 
.  .  .  Customarie  law  consisteth  of  certeine  laudable  customes,  vsed  in  some 
priuate  countrie  .  .  .  Prescription  is  a  certeine  custome,  which  hath  con 
tinued  time  out  of  minde,  but  it  is  more  particular  than  customarie 
law.' 

34.  striketh  the  stroke :  is  mainly  or  finally  instrumental  in  it.  Cf. 
Erasmus'  Apophthegmes>  trans,  by  Nicolas  Udall,  1542,  bk.  ii.  c.  16 
'  suche  ...  as  beare  any  rule,  stroke,  or  autoritte  in  the  commen  weale  '  ; 
and  Bercher's  Nobylytye  off  Wymen  (MS.  1559),  f.  31  'the  wymen  in  that 
region  bear  a  greate  stroke.' 

P.  195,  3.  some  originall,  some  iudiciall :  this  seems  to  refer  to  the 
distinction  between  bills  of  complaint  which  proceed  merely  from  the 
plaintiff,  and  those  founded  upon  some  previous  case  where  the  same  or 
similar  issues  were  tried. 

4.  demur :  demurrer,  a  pleading  that,  even  if  the  facts  stated  by  the 
opponent  were  true,  he  cannot  claim  legal  relief. 

11.  Murtherers  &>  theeues,  &c. :  Harrison,  ii.  n  deals  with  punish 
ments. 

15.  sauage  beastes  and  vermyn :  treated  Harrison,  iii.  4 ;  while 
'cattell  kept  for  profite '  are  dealt  with  iii.  i. 

23.  dogges,  &c. :  Harrison,  iii.  7,  where  p.  231  a  is  found  Lyly's  deri 
vation  of '  mastiff' — '  of  the  word  mase  and  theefe  (or  master  theefe  if  you 
will).'  Mesttf,  fr.  sb.  mastm,  '  a  mastive,  or  bandog' ;  fr.  LL.  mastinus 
—  masnatinuS)  fr.  LL.  masnata — a  household. 

28.  Salt  made,  6r*  Saffron,  &c. :  '  Salt  made '  occupies  Harrison,  iii. 
c.  13,  saffron  and  stone  quarries  cc.  8  and  9.    The  whole  passage  '  Quick- 
siluer  .  .  .  distant  from  the  shoare1  is  verbally  from  iii.  10.  p.  236  b,  where 
also  occur  '  colemines,' '  saltpeter  for  our  ordinance  [i.  e.  ordnance]  and  salt 
soda  for  our  glasse ' :  the  metals  tin,  lead,  iron,  steel,  and  copper  occupy 


530  NOTES 

separate  paragraphs  in  chap,  n,  where  also,  p.  237  a,  is  found  the  'olde 
saying'  about  Britain,  which  is  the  last  detail  borrowed  from  Harrison. 

29.  Antimony :  one  of  the  elements,  brittle,  bluish-white,  of  a  flaky 
crystalline  texture. 

30.  Orpiment  redde  and  yellowe :  yellow  orpiment  is  an  arsenic  tri- 
sulphid  ;  red  orpiment  or  realgar  an  arsenic  disulphid. 

P.  196,  16.  English-man,  to  thinke  worst  of  his  owne  nation,  £c. :  the 
habit  of  exaggerated  praise  of  foreign  custom,  scenery,  and  literature,  of 
course  survives,  but  was  probably  never  general. 

P.  197,  6.  Vlysses  .  .  .  faine  maddnesse,  &c. :  among  the  fragments  of 
the  Cyclic  poets.  His  motive  was  to  escape  joining  the  Trojan  expedition, 
but  the  fraud  was  discovered  through  Palamedes'  suggestion  that  they 
should  subject  his  son  Telemachus  to  the  torture. 

12.  with  Laocoon  :  i.  e.  as  Laocoon  was. 

19.  Antenors  policies:  foremost  in  council  among  the  Trojans, 
generally  introduced  as  ncTrvvpevos,  e.  g.  Iliad,  iii.  148,  203  ;  vii.  347,  &c. 

24.  fire,  which  they  had  felt,  £c. :  i.  e.  during  the  Marian  persecution, 

30.  7*opirus\    Herodotus,  iii.   158-60,  and  Plut.  Reg.  et  Imp.  Apo- 
phtheg.  (Darii). 

32.  Nausicaa  .  .  .  shift,  &c. :  punning  allusion  to  Odyss.  vi.  214. 

33.  Ptolomeus  Philadelphus:  Ptolemy  II,  king  of  Egypt,  and  founder 
of  the  Alexandrian  library,  died  247  B.C. 

P.  198,  2.  Lorde  Burgleigh :  an  early  patron  of  Lyly's ;  see  Life, 
vol.  i.  pp.  12,  17,  28. 

6.  saying  of  Agamemnon,  &c. :  Plut.  An  sit  sent  gerenda  respub. 
C.  X  TOV  yovv  /rtoo-iXea  T&V  (3a<n\(O>v  fi>xofJ-fvov  TOIS  tfeots1  Totofroi  5e/ca  /not 
a-vfj.(f)pa8iJLovfs  (lev  'AXCUWV  [//.  ii.  372]  olos  TJV  6  NeVrcop,  ovdels  e/tte/uJraTO. 

10.  Nestor  .  .  .  age:  cf.  Latin  letter  in  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  14  '  etate 
Nestorem  .  .  .  adaequare.' 

P.  199,  2.  Archimedes :  assisted  Hiero  in  the  defence  of  Syracuse 
against  Marcellus,  and  on  its  capture  212  B.C.  was  killed  by  the  Roman 
soldiery,  while  intent  on  a  mathematical  problem.  Plut.  Marcellus,  c.  19. 
Cicero,  De  Fin.  v.  19  '  qui  dum  in  pulvere  quaedam  describit  attentius,  ne 
patriam  quidem  captam  esse  senserit.' 

10.  gorgious:  since  printing  text  I  find  a  parallel  lor  gorge  oust  (superl.) 
in  'famoust,'  Puttenham's  Arte  of  Poesie  1589,  p.  242  ed.  Arber. 

19.  the  Estrich,  £c. :  this  may  be  true,  though  it  does  not  occur  in 
Pliny,  x.  i,  which  deals  with  the  ostrich. 

31.  russet  coates  haue  their  Christendoms:   i.e.  poor-clad  folk  are 
Christians  like  yourselves.     Russet  is  subst.,  or  adj.,  meaning  homespun 
of  ruddy  brown  colour. 

33.  course  carsie :  coarse  kersey,  coarse  woollen  cloth. 
P.  2CO,  5.  staring  stockes  :  gazing-stocks. 

12.  Artemidorus  or  Lisimandro  :  Pliny  mentions  ii.  112  a  geographer 


EUPHUES'  GLASS   FOR  EUROPE  531 

of  Ephesus,  named  Artemidorus ;  but  more  probably  Lyly  refers  to  the 
physician  of  Hadrian's  time,  117-138  A.D.,  who  published  an  edition  of 
Hippocrates'  works.  I  can  make  nothing  of '  Lisimandro.' 

29.  but  their  eare  ful :  of  any  very  small  quantity,  as  the  Roman 
virgins  are  said  to  drink  '  but  theyr  eye  full,'  p.  56  1.  8. 

P.  201,  1.  bewtie  .  .  .  lost  with  a  sharpe  blast',  cf.  Fletcher's  Humor. 
Lieut,  i.  i.  14  '  these  beauties,  |  That  have  been  labouring  to  set  off  their 
sweetness,  |  And  wash'd  and  curl'd,  perfum'd,  and  taken  glisters,  |  For 
fear  a  flaw  of  wind  might  overtake  'em.' 

4.  Ibes,  &c. :  no  authority  ;  nor  for  p.  212  1.  24. 

5.  serpent  Serapie,  &c. :    '  Serapie '   may  be   an    aural    error    for 
*  Cerastes,'  the  serpent  with  little  horns,  of  which  Pliny  speaks  viii.  35,  &c. ; 
but  I  find  no  authority  for  its  *  bursting,'  &c. 

28.  needle  . .  .pen  . .  .  :  the  old  opposition  between  samplers  and 
sonnets,  vol.  i.  224  1.  5,  320,  321,  and  Gall.  iii.  4.  48. 

P.  203,  29.  whether  .  .  .  people  .  .  .  more  fortunate,  or  the  Prince,  &c. : 
cf.  The  Diall, '  Certen  Letters,'  ch.  v,  where  the  Emperor  says  of  Lycurgus, 
'  I  cannot  tel  whych  of  these  two  were  moste  happiest,  the  kyng  hauynge  so 
obedyent  people,  or  els  the  realme  to  haue  soo  worthy  a  kinge.'  It  does 
not  appear  in  Plutarch. 

34.  sixt  daye  of  Februarie  \lucky\  to  the  Grecians  :  February  is  Lyly's 
mistake  for  Thargelion  (May-June).  Aelian,  Var.  Hist.  ii.  25  TV  CKTTJV  TOV 
p.r]vbs  TOV  QapyrjXitoVos  TroXXooi/  KCU  ayaOatv  alriav  ytvtaQai  \eyovaiv  ov  povov 
rots  'A^i/at'oty,  aXXa  KCU  a'XXot?  TroXXoty.  He  instances  Marathon,  Plataea, 
Artemisium,  Mycale,  £c.,  as  won  on  that  date,  and  the  birth  of  Socrates 
and  Alexander.  Abr.  Fleming's  trs.,  1576,  f.  21,  says  '  February.' 

P.  204, 4.  Simonides . . .  what  God  was,  &c. :  from  Cic.  De  Nat.  Deorum, 
i.  22  *  Roges  me,  quid,  aut  quale  sit  Deus  ;  auctore  utar  Simonide  ;  de  quo 
cum  quaesivisset  hoc  idem  tyrannus  Hiero,  deliberandi  sibi  unum  diem 
postulavit :  cum  idem  ex  eo  postridie  quaereret,  biduum  petivit :  cum 
saepius  duplicaret  numerum  dierum,  admiransque  Hiero  requireret,  cur 
ita  faceret ;  "  Quia,  quanto,"  inquit,  "  diutius  considero,  tanto  mihi  res 
videtur  obscurior." ' 

9.  Alexander  .  .  .  Appelles .  .  .  Lysippus  . . .  Pirgoteles  :  Pliny,  vii.  38  ; 
quoted  in  note  on  p.  38  1.  16.  Again  p.  73.  There  seems  to  be  no  authority 
for  this  story  of  Parrhasius.  It  is  merely  the  fiction  under  which  the 
author  prefers  himself  to  Elizabeth's  notice. 

P.  205,  7.  treade  the  knottes :  set  out  the  beds  ;  perhaps  from  the  use 
of  the  foot  to  bank  up  the  soil. 

13.  the  Venus  of  Apelles,  &c. :  cf.  p.  6  1.  25  (note). 
22.  Zeuxis  .  .  .  Atalanta,  &c. :  Pliny,  xxxv.  36  says  the  picture  was 
'  athletam.     Adeoque  sibi  in  illo  placuit,  ut  versum  subscriberet,  celebrem 
ex  eo,  "  Invisurum  aliquem  facilius,  quam  imitaturum."  '     Cf.   p.  6  11. 
21-2. 

M  m  2 


532  NOTES 

P.  206,  11.  windes  blasteth  :  so, '  them  that  cares  not/  p.  72  1.  20,  'per 
fumes  doth  refresh/  vol.  i.  191 1. 1.  For  the  sentiment,  cf.  Rich.  Ill,  iii.  1.94. 

18.  of  the  age  of  xxij.  yeares\  Elizabeth,  born  Sept.  7,  1533,  was 
twenty-five  at  her  accession  on  Nov.  17,  1558,  and  in  1580  would  not 
cavil  at  the  inaccuracy.  On  p.  212  1.  12,  'liued  fortie  yeares/  he  bates  her 
another  four. 

32.  patience  that  Zeno  taught  Eretricus  :  Valer.  Max.  iii.  3.  2  '  de 
patientia/  of  which  Zeno  of  Elea  is  the  second  example.  '  Eretricus '  must 
be  Lyly's  addition. 

34.  Lycurgus  .  .  .  eye:  Plut.  Lycurgus,  c.  II  relates  his  generous 
treatment  of  a  youth  named  Alcander,  who  had  injured  his  eye  in  a  riot 
got  up  by  the  wealthier  citizens  against  the  Syssitia. 

P.  207,  10.  Aristides  .  .  .  exile,  &c. :  Plut.  Aristides,  c.  25,  where  he 
refuses  to  join  in  Alcmaeon  and  Cimon's  attack  on  Themistocles,  who 
had  caused  his  own  ostracism. 

11.  saying  with  Alexander,  &c. :  possibly  from  Reg.  et  Imp.  Apoph. 
j$v,O'ihtK.6v,  e'^>77,  eoTJi/  €v  iroiovvra  KaKoJ?  aKoveiv. 

15.  burnt  them  all  .  .  .  lulius  Ccesar:  I  find  no  authority  for  this, 
though  in  accord  with  her  attitude ;  nor  is  the  tale  of  Caesar  to  be 
found  in  Plutarch's  Life,  nor  in  that  of  Suetonius.  Perhaps  founded  on 
his  entry  of  the  Senate-house  with  a  note  of  the  conspiracy,  unread,  in  his 
hand  ;  Appian,  De  Bell.  Civ.  ii.  116. 

25.  Antoninus  .  .  .  y*  godly  :  i.e.  Antoninus  Pius,  often  referred  to  in 
North's  Diall  of  Princes. 

32.  Gun  that  was  shotte  off,  &c. :  the  occurrence  was  recent,  in  July 
or  August,  1579.  The  attempt  is  considered  by  Camden  to  have  been 
aimed  rather  at  Simier,  the  Duke  of  Anjou's  ambassador  for  Elizabeth's 
hand,  by  some  adherent  of  Leicester  in  revenge  for  his  revelation  to 
Elizabeth  of  his  marriage  with  Lady  Essex. — '  About  this  time  it  happen'd, 
that  while  the  Queen  for  her  Pleasure  was  rowed  in  her  Barge  upon  the 
Thames  near  Greenwich,  attended  by  Simier,  the  Earl  of  Lincoln,  and 
Hatton  her  Vice-Chamberlain,  a  young  Man  discharged  a  Piece  out  of 
a  Boat,  and  shot  one  of  the  Barge-men  in  the  Queen's  Barge  through  both 
his  Arms  ;  who  was  presently  apprehended,  and  led  to  the  Gallows  for 
a  terror  to  him  :  But  he  solemnly  protesting  that  he  did  it  unwittingly, 
and  meant  no  harm,  was  soon  discharg'd.  Neither  would  the  Queen 
believe  what  some  buzzed  in  her  Ears,  that  he  was  purposely  set  on,  to 
mischief  either  her  or  Simier.' — Camden's  History  of  England,  fol.  ed. 
vol.  ii.  p.  471  b.  Another  writer  describes  it  as  a  pure  accident. 

P.  208,  6.  in  the  hoat  Ouen  :  alluding  to  the  story  of  Shadrach, 
Meshach,  and  Abednego,  Daniel  iii. 

13.  Theodosius,  &c. :  probably  alluding  to  the  repentance  of  Theo- 
dosius  I,  Emperor  of  the  East,  383  A.D.,  for  his  massacre  of  the  rebels  of 
Thessalonica  in  390. 


EUPHUES'   GLASS   FOR  EUROPE  533 

15.  with  Augustus  .  .  .  could  not  writ',  it  is  related  of  Nero,  not 
Augustus ;  Suet.  De  Caesar,  vi.  10  '  Et  cum  de  supplicio  cuiusdam  capite 
damnati  ut  ex  more  subscriberet,  admoneretur,  "  Quam  vellem,"  inquit, 
"  nescire  literas  !  " 

36.  abiects  .  .  .  subiectes :  again,  Pappe,  vol.  iii.  p.  411  1.  41. 

P.  2O9,  13.  to  refuse  all:  e.  g.  Philip  II,  the  King  of  Sweden,  the  Arch 
duke  of  Austria,  the  Earl  of  Arran,  the  Due  d'Alen§on,  besides  the  peren 
nial  Leicester,  and  Anjou  two  years  later. 

16.  Lala  that  renoumed  Virgin :    portrait-painter  of  Cyzicus,  un 
married.     Pliny,  xxxv.  40  '  Romae  pinxit .  . .  imagines  mulierum  maxime.' 

17.  Aemilia  . . .  chastitie,  &c. :  this  Vestal,  when  the  sacred  fire  was 
extinguished,  miraculously  rekindled  it  by  throwing  her  best  garment  on 
the  embers  (Val.  Max.  i.  i.  7). 

19.  Claudia,  &c. :  the  vessel  conveying  the  image  of  Cybele  to  Rome 
had  stranded  at  the  mouth  of  the  Tiber,  and  Claudia  Quinta,  probably 
sister  to  App.  Claudius  Pulcher,  vindicated  herself  against  a  charge  of  in- 
continency  by  pulling  it  off  after  prayer  to  the  goddess.  Told  Ov.  Fasti, 
iv.  305,  and  alluded  to  Pliny,  vii.  35. 

2 1 .  Tuccia  .  .  .  sine  :  a  miracle  granted  to  vindicate  her  from  a  charge 
of  incest.  Mentioned  Pliny,  xxviii.  3,  but  the  details  of  place  only  in  Val. 
Max.  viii.  i.  5,  from  whom  Petrarch,  Trionfo  della  Castita, (  Porto  dal  fiume 
al  tempio  acqua  col  cribro.' 

37.  hiues  in  .  .  .  helmettes'.   Pint.  Numa,  c.  20  illustrates  his  peace 
ful  reign  by  a  quotation  about  spiders'  webs  woven  between  soldiers'  pikes  ; 
but   Fairholt's  note  on  Campaspe,  iv.  3.  8  refers  to   one   of  Alciatus' 
Emblems  which  represents  bees  swarming  into  a  helmet.    Cf.  the  *  Sonet ' 
long  attributed  to  Peele,  *  His  Helmet  now  shall  make  a  hiue  for  Bees,' 
vol.  i.  p.  412.     Andreas  Alciatus'  Emblemata  appeared  at  Milan,  1522. 

P.  210,  2.  this  twentieyeares\  see  note  on  'their  long  peace,'  p.  153  1. 13. 

3.  Semyramis'.  several  times  in  Plut,  e.g.  De  Alex,  seu   Virt.  seu 
Fort.  c.  3. 

4.  Zenobia  . .  .  six: year es  :  from  the  death  of  her  husband  Odenathus, 
267  A.  D.,  to  her  overthrow  by  Aurelian  in  273.     She  appears  in  Painter's 
Palace  of  Pleasure,  ii.  14. 

8.  walles  of  Fraunce  to  burne:  i.e.  in  Huguenot  wars. 

13.  looking  through  an  Emeraud  at  others  iarres :  actually  reported 
of  Nero  watching  gladiatorial  combats,  Pliny,  xxxvii.  16.  Possibly,  says 
Beckmann  (Hist.  Inv.  ii.  67),  it  was  fluor  spar,  or  Icelandic  agate. 

P.  211,  15.  Praxitiles,  &c. :  his  statues  of  Venus  and  Cupid  mentioned 
together,  Pliny,  xxxvi.  4,  but  nothing  said  of  his  painting. 

21.  Zeuxis  .  .  .ft/tie  faire  virgins  of  Sparta,  &c. :  Pliny,  xxxv.  36 
Zeuxis  chooses  five  as  models  from  the  virgins  of  Agrigentum.  Venus 
turning  her  back  is  from  Sannazarro's  Arcadia :  above,  p.  480. 

32.  Lady  es  in  Italy  more  then Jif tie  hundered'.  in  Domenichi's  Nobilta 


534  NOTES 

delle  Donne  (1549)  appears  a  Table  of  modern  Italian  ladies,  amounting 
to  about  7,500. 

P.  212,  12.  lined  fortie  yeares  a  virgin  :  actually,  47.  Cf.  p.  206  1.  18, 
note.  The  following  words  allude  to  the  projected  Anjou  match,  which  in  the 
autumn  of  1579  she  was  known  to  favour ;  and  reflect  the  general  anxiety 
for  an  heir  to  the  crown. 

18.  tickle:  easily  moved,  inconstant    (ME.  tiklen,  freq.  of  tikken,  to 
touch  lightly). 

19.  tivist'.  slight  thread.     Cf.  'silken  twist,'  p.  100  1. 12,  and  Coriol.  v. 
6.  96  '  a  twist  of  rotten  silk.' 

24.  lyke  the  bird  Ibis :  neither  this,  nor  the  detail  about  the  bird, 
p.  201  1.4,  is  in  Pliny  or  Aelian.  Gall.  iii.  4.  34  'The  birdes  Ibes  lose  their 
sweetnesse  when  they  lose  theyr  sights.' 

34.  Nicaulia  the   Queene  of  Saba'.  Fenton's  Tragicall  Discourses, 
ep.  ded.  mentions  '  the  quene  of  Saba,  whiche  some  writers  call  Nycaula, 
and  other  Manqueda.'     She  is  '  Nicaulis  '  in  Josephus,  Antiq.Jud.  viii.  c. 
vi.  2.  5. 

35.  Nicostrata  :  adapted  from  Plut.  Quaest.  Rom.  56,  or  his  Romulus, 
21,  where  she  is  said  to  have  been  the  wife  of  Arcadian  Evander,  and  a 
prophetess  who  delivered  oracles  in  verse,  hence  called  Carmenta,  her 
real  name  being  Nicostrata. 

P.  213,  1.  Amalasunta  :  daughter  of  Theodoric,  who  ruled  at  Ravenna 
as  Queen  of  the  Ostrogoths  for  eight  years,  from  522  A.  D.  Foresti's  De 
Claris  Scelestisque  Mul.  I497fol.,  c.  135,  speaks  of  her  as  'graecis  latinis- 
que  literis  egregie  erudita,  adeo  ut  cum  quibusuis  eruditissimis  viris,  de 
omni  ferme  disciplina  cogredi  &  disceptare  non  pertimesceret.' 

2.  Aspasia  .  .  .  taught  Pericles'.  Plut.  Pericles,  c.  24  rfjv  8'  'Aairaaiav 
01  /uei>  00?  vo(j)r]V  riva  /ecu  7ro\iTiKr)i>  VTTO  TOV  IIeptK\eovs  (rrrovdaa dijvai  \eyovat. 

3.  Themistoclea,  who  instructed  Pithagoras :  otherwise  Aristocleia,  a 
Delphic  priestess  from  whom  he  is  said  to  have  received  many  of  his 
precepts  ;  called  Themistocleia  in  Diog.  Laertius,  viii.  I.  8. 

6.  escapes :  faults,  properly  an  error  that  escapes  a  clerk's  or  printer's 
eye  ;  '  the  escapes  of  children,'  vol.  i.  280  1.  24. 

15.  twice  .  .  .  vnto  the  Uniuersities :  i.e.  she  spent  four  days  at  Cam 
bridge  in  Aug.  1564,  and  five  or  six  at  Oxford  Aug.  1566,  three  years  before 
Lyly  came  up.  At  both  she  attended  the  disputations  in  the  schools  and 
made  speeches  in  Greek  and  Latin.  Her  enjoyment  of  the  latter  visit  is 
evident  from  Wood's  Hist,  and  Antiquities,  ii.  pp.  156  sqq.  Edwardes' 
Palamon  and  Arcite  was  given  in  Christ  Church  hall. 

23.  kings  of  Persia  .  .  .  cut  stickes  :  again,  Camp.  Prol.  at  Court. 
Ael.  Var.  Hist.  xiv.  12  "On  6  Ilepo-aJi/  [Bacri\evs  oSoirrop&v,  tva  /LIJ)  a\vy,  <pi\vpiov 
(tablet  of  linden  wood)  ei^f  /cat  fia^m'pioi/,  Iva.  £CTJ  TOVTO  .  .  .  Ila^rcoff  yap  OVK 
£iX*v  °^  /3tj9Aioi>,  ou  didvoiav,  1v  rj  (r/rouSatoi/  Tt  Kai  crcfjivbv  avayivwo'Kij,  tj  yfv- 
valov  TI  Kai  Xoyou  agtoi> 


EUPHUES'   GLASS   FOR  EUROPE  535 

P.  214,  8.  gallerie  of  Olympia,  &c. :  Plut.  De  Garrul.  i  Trjv  /ue«/  -yap  eV 
'OXv/UTTia  (TToav  UTTO  /uiay  (f)a>vf)S  TroXXay  ai/raxXao-fts  7roiov(Tav,€TrTd<pG)vov  KaXoixri. 
10.  7w0  and  t-wentie  yeares  :  her  accession  was  Nov.  17,  1558, 
22.   curses  of  the  Pope :    Pius  V's  bull  of   excommunication  and 
deposition,  issued  Feb.  25,  1570,  was  found  nailed  on  the  Bishop  of 
London's  door,  May  15  (Froude,  x.  10.  56). 

P.  215, 12.  Queene  ofNauarr . . .  the  Marigolde :  Margaret  d'Angouleme, 
queen  of  Henri  II  of  Navarre,  wrote,  besides  the  Heptameron,  a  little 
book  of  religious  meditations,  a  translation  of  which  by  the   Princess 
Elizabeth  was  edited  by  John  Bale  with  a  preface  and  conclusion  in  1548, 
under  the  title  of  '  A  Godly  Medytacyon  of  the  Christen  Sowle  concerning 
a  Love  towardes  God  and  hys  Chryste.'     The  title-page  represents  a  queen 
kneeling  before  Christ,  whose  head  is  resplendent  with  rays  ;  but  the  book 
contains  no  further  warrant  for  Lyly's  '  vseth  the  Marigolde  for  hir  flower/ 
which  must  mean  merely  l  imitates  the  marigold  in  faithful  devotion/    Cf. 
Hecatompathia  ix,  and  Davison's  Poetical  Rapsody,  p.  117,  ed.  1611 
'The  Sunne  doth  make  the  Marigolde  to  flourish, 
The  Sunnes  departure  makes  it  droupe  againe.' 
16.  bound  the  Crocodile  to  the  Palme  tree  :   a  way  of  saying  'made 
Egypt  a  field  for  his  victories ' :  but  cf.  Euph.  i.  223  11.  19-20. 

19.  Eagle  .  . .  throwne  dust,  &c. :   Pliny,  x.  5  says  that  some  eagles 
will  attack  stags.     They  roll  themselves  in  the  dust,  then  perching  between 
the  antlers  blind  the  creature  by  shaking  it  in  its  eyes  and  beating  its  face 
with  their  wings,  till  it  throws  itself  over  a  precipice. 

21.  blinde  Beetle,  &c. :  in  one  of  Aesop's  Fables  (p.  86,  ed.  1671) 
a  beetle  avenges  himself  on  an  eagle  by  invading  its  nest  and  rolling  its 
eggs  down  the  rocks,  while  Pliny  x.  4  says  that  an  eagle's  feathers  will 
consume  those  of  other  birds.  Cf.  Endim.  v.  i.  130,  and  above,  p.  4  L  9. 

25.  Swallowe  .  .  .  Grashopper'.  Aelian,  De  Nat.  Animal,  viii.  6, 
mentions  the  easy  capture  of  grasshoppers  by  swallows. 

27.  burning  .  .  .  with  the  breath  .  .  .  Elephant:  Pliny,  xi.  115  *Ele- 
phantorum  anima  serpentes  extrahit,  cervorum  urit' — where  extrahit 
means,  not  '  engenders,'  but  cavernis  extrahit. 

30.  bird  Attagen,  &c. :  Pliny,  x.  68  '  Attagen,  vocalis  alias,  captus  vero 
obmutescens.' 

P.  216,  14.  weams  :  wems  (AS.  want),  spots,  blemishes. 

20.  IT  louis  Elizabeth  :  I  have  emended  only  the  punctuation  of  these 
lines,  and  the  impossible  reading  sanam,  p.  217  1. 6.    Cf.  those  prefixed  to 
Lok's  Ecclesiastes,  1597  (Life,  p.  67).     In  a  note  to  the  Life,  p.  23,  I  have 
urged  that  this  contest  between  Pallas,  Juno  and  Venus  may  have  been 
suggested  to  Lyly  by  Lucas  de  H cere's  painting  of  Elizabeth  attended  by 
these  three  goddesses.     The  picture  is  dated  1569,  and  is  preserved  at 
Hampton  Court  (No.  635). 

P.  217,  1.  Assensere :  this  active  form  is  ante-classical. 


536  NOTES 

26.  a  moneths  minde  :  a  strong  desire  ;  properly  '  a  woman's  longing, 
usually  commencing  in  the  first  month  of  pregnancy ' ;  distinguished  from 
the  months-mind  or  memorial  service  held  for  a  person  a  month  after  his 
decease  (Nares). 

P.  218,  6.  at  length,  and  not  too  late,  bicause  at  last :  for  the  form  cf. 
Euph.  ii.  29  1.  22,  Mid.  v.  3.  101,  &c. 

17.  vnkinde  :  contrary  to  kind,  unnatural. 

23.  clap  hands  :  cf.  N.E.D.,  s.v.,  also  the  phrase  '  strike  me  luck  with 
earnest,'  Beau,  and  Flet.  (and  Massinger's  ?)  Scornful  Ladie,  ii.  3. 

30.  ivordes  of  assurance  betweene  Surius  &>  Camilla  :  i.  e.  the  formal 
ceremony  of  betrothal  or  precontract,  carrying  at  this  date  wellnigh  as 
much  validity  as  the  complementary  ceremony  of  the  marriage  itself,  as  is 
shown  by  the  fact  that  no  marriage-licence  could  be  given  without  lodging 
at  the  Consistory  Court  a  bond  under  two  responsible  sureties  that  there 
was  no  precontract  of  either  of  the  parties  with  a  third  party.  H  alii  well- 
Phillipps  (Outlines  of  the  Life  of  Shakespeare,  i.  pp.  62-7),  in  discussing 
the  probability  of  such  a  precontract  between  Shakespeare  and  Anne 
Hathaway  in  the  summer  of  1582,  gives  the  following — 'Thus,  in  1585, 
William  Holder  and  Alice  Shaw,  having  privately  made  a  contract,  came 
voluntarily  before  two  witnesses,  one  of  whom  was  a  person  named  Willis 
and  the  other  a  John  Maides  of  Snitterfield,  on  purpose  to  acknowledge 
that  they  were  irrevocably  pledged  to  wedlock.  The  lady  evidently  con 
sidered  herself  already  as  good  as  married,  saying  to  Holder, — "  I  docon- 
fesse  that  I  am  your  wief  and  have  forsaken  all  my  frendes  for  your  sake, 
and  I  hope  you  will  use  me  well  "  ;  and  thereupon  she  "gave  him  her  hand." 
Then,  as  Maides  observes,  "the  said  Holder,  mutatis  mutandis,  used  the 
like  words  unto  her  in  effect,  and  toke  her  by  the  hand,  and  kissed  to 
gether  in  the  presence  of  this  deponent  and  the  said  Willis."  These  pro 
ceedings  are  afterwards  referred  to  in  the  same  depositions  as  constituting 
a  definite  "  contract  of  marriage." '  The  binding  force  of  this  ceremony  is 
implied  in  the  '  amazement '  Philautus  here  acknowledges.  Cf.  vol.  i.  228 
1.  29  '  I  cannot  but  smile  to  heare,  that  a  marriage  should  bee  solemnized, 
where  neuer  was  any  mention  of  assuringe,  and  that  the  woeing  should  bee 
a  day  after  the  weddinge.' 
P.  219,  9.  Hobby  :  falcon. 

25.  feareth  no  chips  :  N.  E.  D.  quotes  also  Breton's  Dignitie  or  Indig. 
of  Men,  197  *  Who  looketh  hye,  may  have  a  Chip  fall  in  his  Eye.'  The  pro 
verb  imagines  one  watching  builders  at  work  above  him.  Cf.  vol.  iii.  p.  467. 

oyle  that  swimmeth  in  ye  top  .  .  .  honny  .  .  .  ye  bottome  .  .  .  wine  .  .  . 
the  middest :  Plutarch's  Quaest.  Conviv.  vii.  3  is  devoted  to  the  discussion 
of  the  reasons  '  why  the  middle  of  wine,  the  top  of  oil,  and  the  bottom  of 
honey,  is  best.'  In  Beau,  and  Flet.  (and  Massinger's?)  Scornful Ladie,  ii.  i, 
in  regard  to  a  posset,  ' Abig.  Sir,  will  you  put  in  deeper?  'tis  the  sweeter. 
Maria.  Well  said,  Old-sayings.' 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  537 

P.  220,  9.  strayning  curtesie :  here  of  excess,  generally  of  defect. 

P.  221, 9.  Draffe  was  mine  arrand,  but  drinke  I  would :  draff  is  dregs, 
lees,  refuse,  e.  g.  of  malt  grains.  Heywood's  .Proverbes  (p.  54  Reprint), 
of  one  who  by  asking  for  some  trifling  favour  hopes  to  secure  one  of  more 
importance.  Philautus,  pretending  mere  civility,  seeks  a  wife. 

21.  Mizaldus  the  Poet,  &c.:  Lyly  wittily  substitutes,  for  Philetas  the 
philosopher  of  Ael.  V.  H.  ix.  14,  Antoine  Mizauld,  the  French  physicist, 
who,   besides  A.  Mizaldi  .  .  .  Ph<znomena>  sive  Aerice  Ephemerides : 
omnium  aura  commotionum  signa  .  .  .  Parisiis,  1546,  8°,  published  in 
verse  a  Planeta  and  Zodiacus,  both  at  Paris,  1553,  8°.    Nash  in  Strange 
Newes  (Works,  ed.  Grosart,  ii.  271)  tells  the  story  of  Accius. 

P.  222,30.  From  London  the  first  of  Februarie,  1579:  i.e.  1579-80, 
and  inconsistent  with  preceding  dates,  as  Arber  pointed  out.  Sailing  from 
Naples,  Dec.  I,  1579  (p.  13),  they  reached  Dover  in  'eight  weekes,' 
p.  34 1. 19,  i.e.  about  the  beginning  of  February,  and  'passed  many  dayes  in 
England,'  p.  185  1.  22,  after  all  the  events  recorded  in  the  novel  (cf.  'one 
yeare,'  p.  196  1.  24)  before  Euphues'  departure;  after  which  it  is  'not 
passing  one  quarter  of  a  yeare,'  p.  21 7  1.  30,  before  he  receives  this  letter,  for 
which  Feb.  1580-1  would  be  a  consistent  date.  The  fact  is,  the  initial  date 
has  been  set  forward  by  a  year.  See  Life,  pp.  21-2. 

P.  223,  3.  ^Euphues  to  Philautus  :  this  letter  is  largely  borrowed  from 
the  Coniugalia  Praecepta  of  Plutarch,  with  amplifications  by  Lyly  as  in 
Euphues  and  his  Ephoebus  and  the  letter  to  Botonio,  and  some  borrowings 
from  Edmund  Tylney's  Flower  of  Friendship,  which  bears  as  title  to  the 
book  proper,  '  A  brief  and  pleasant  discourse  of  duties  in  Mariage,5  and 
is  itself  indebted  to  the  Coniug.  Praecepta.  From  the  words  '  Helen 
gaped  for  goods,'  p.  225  (Gk.  ^iXoVAouroff  17  'EXeVf/)  Lyly  seems  to  have 
used  Xylander's  translation  (Basileae,  1570,  fol.)  (' Inhiabat  opibus  Helena,' 
p.  146),  from  which  therefore  I  quote. 

4-22.   Ther  cold .  .  .  inmariag'.  this  exordium  (19  11.)  is  Lyly's. 

8.  alterations',  of  rapid  changes,  or  gusts  of  feeling,  as  vol.  i.  204  1. 35. 
But  should  we  read  '  altercations  '  ? 

22.  Solon  gaue  counsel,  &c. :  Precept  I  has  only  the  saying  about  the 
quince,  nor  are  the  others  in  Plut.  Solon. 

assured  him-self\  betrothed  himself.  Cf.  'wordes  of  assurance,' 
p.  218  1.  30  note. 

27-36.  In  Bceotia  .  .  .forsake  the  Honny\  these  ten  lines  are  taken 
with  slight  addition  from  Precept  II  ;  'become  a  sheepe '  is  a  vigorous 
substitute  for  'masuetam  ac  dulcem  vitae  sociam  se  praebet,'  and  the 
three  lines  '  Therefore  Philautus  .  .  .  with  patience,'  are  of  course  unrepre 
sented  in  Plutarch. 

P.  224,  1-6.  Thou  must  'use  .  .  .  haue  a  streight :  these  six  lines  are 
unrepresented  in  Plutarch,  whose  Precepts  III-XI  are  entirely  omitted  by 
Lyly. 


538  NOTES 

7-15.  //  ispretelye  noted . . .  to  theSunne:  these  nine  lines  are  founded 
on  the  following  in  Precept  XII,  the  original  source  being  Aesop,  *  Sol  Aqui- 
lonem  vicisse  aliquando  traditur.  cum  enim  ventus  adimere  homini  pallium 
vellet  copioso  flatu,  arctius  hie  id  contraxit  atque  tenuit.  Sole  autem  post 
ventum  calidis  radiis  eum  vrente,  prae  aestu  simul  cum  pallio  tunicam 
exuit.'  Lyly  employs  the  fable  again  in  the  Epilogue  to  Endimion.  The 
remainder  of  Precept  XII  contains  the  application—'  Hoc  modo  plurimae 
agunt  mulieres  :  maritis  vi  luxum  eripere  conantibus  repugnant  &  iras- 
cuntur :  placidis  verbis  suadentibus  missum  eum  faciunt,  mediocritatem- 
que  seruant,' — which  Lyly  renders  in  a  much  more  general  sense,  and 
with  euphuistic  illustrations. 

24.  Diamond  .  .  .  but  bloode  :  i.  e.  the  hot  blood  of  a  goat,  as 
above  vol.  i.  210  1.  28,  305  1.  17  (where  see  notes). 

26.  the  Co  eke  .  .  .  a  glead :  glead  or  gleed  is  a  hot  coal,  AS.  gled. 
Feared,  frightened.  I  find  nothing  nearer  than  Pliny  xxix.  25,  to  the  effect 
that  cock's  flesh,  applied  warm,  neutralizes  the  venom  of  a  serpent. 

28.  graft  next  to  them  Mandrage,  £c. :  again,  Sapho,  ii.  I.  135-6. 
Plut.  De  And.  Poetis,  c.  I  6  pavdpayopaf  rals  dpireXois  napafpvoiJLevos,  Kai  §m- 
dtSovs  TTJV  8vvofj.iv  els  TOV  olvov,  p.a\aKa>Tepav  Trcxet  TTJV  Karatyopav  rois  irivovcri. 

33-6.  The  horse  striueth  .  .  .  beare  a  white  mouth',  reminiscent  of  the 
end  of  Precept  VIII  'cum  oportuerit,  ratione  habita  vt  magnitudinis  in 
equo,  ita  dignitatis  in  muliere,  fraeno  vti.'  Hauingy*  bridle,  as  we  speak 
tot  giving  a  horse  the  rein.  A  white  mouth,  i.  e.  not  bloodied  by  fretting, 
see  pp.  21  1. 14,  82  1.  10,  and  vol.  i.  181  1.  16  note. 

36.  Gal  was  cast  out  .  .  .  bittemes:  from  Precept  XXVII  '  Qui 
lunoni  nuptiali  sen  pronubae  sacrificant,  ij  fel  non  cum  reliqua  conficiunt 
victima,  sed  exemtum  apud  altare  abiiciunt.  quo  instituto  legis  autor 
obscure  significant,  coniugio  nunquam  debere  bilem  iramque  interesse.' 

P.  225,  2-5.  Thou  must  be  a  glasse  to  thy  wife  .  .  .  dispiseth  thee\  Pre 
cept  XIV,  where  this  simile  of '  glasse  '  occurs,  is  merely  to  the  effect  that 
a  wife  ought  to  adapt  herself  to  her  husband's  moods — 'vxor  invtilis  ac 
intempestiua  est,  quae  lusum  quaerente  oblectationemque  viro  toruum 
tuetur,  serias  res  agente  ludit  ac  ridet :  quorum  alterum  insuauis  est,  alterum 
contemnentis  maritu.'  Tylney's  Flower  of  Friendship,  sig.  E  iiij  verso, 
has  '  hir  husbad,  whose  face  must  be  hir  daylie  looking  glasse,  wherein 
she  ought  to  be  alwaies  prying,  to  see  whe  he  is  merie,  when  sad,  when 
content,  and  when  discotent,  wherto  she  must  alwayes  frame  hir  owne 
countenance.' 

6-9.  Kings  that  be  wrastlers  .  .  .  imitate  their  goodnesse :  pretty 
closely  from  Precept  XVII  '  Reges  si  musica  ament,  multos  efficiunt 
musicos  :  si  litteras,  litteratos :  si  athletas,  exercitationibus  corporis 
deditos.  ita  vir  si  corporis  cultui  studet,  vxorem  ornadi  corporis 
studiosam  reddit,  si  voluptatibus  indulget,  libidinosam  &  meretricia,  si 
honestatem  &  pulcras  res  sectatur,  temperantem  ac  modestam.' 


EUPHUES   AND   HIS   ENGLAND  539 

10-18.  For  thy  great  dowry  .  .  .  though  it  be  all:  these  four  lines  are 
from  the  end  of  Precept  XX  ;  '  neque  pars  habitus  alia  propria,  alia  aliena 
habeatur,  sed  omnia  propria  ducantur,  nihil  alienum.  Sicvt  vinum  aqua 
temperatum,  tametsi  aquae  adsit  plus,  vinum  tamen  vocamus  ;  ita  rem 
familiarem  aequum  est  viri  appellari,  quamvis  maiorem  partem  attulerit 
mulier.' 

14-20.  Helen  gaped . . .  smoothe  in  the  wearing',  these  seven  lines  are 
composed  of,  or  suggested  by  the  following— in  Precept  XXI  '  Inhiabat 
opibus  Helena,  voluptatibus  erat  addictus  Paris,  contra  Vlisses  prudens, 
pudica  Penelope '  ;  in  Precept  XXIV  '  Rursum  Olympias  [wife  of  Philip 
of  Macedon]  cum  aulfcus  quidam  adolescensformosam,sed  male  audientem 
duxisset  vxorem  :  Hie,  inquit,  si  ratione  esset  praeditus,  nunquam  profecto 
oculis  matrimonium  coiuisset ' ;  while  the  '  faire  shooe '  is  suggested  by  the 
reply  of  the  Roman  (at  the  beginning  of  Precept  XXII)  who  had  divorced 
a  chaste,  wealthy  and  beautiful  wife ;  '  Hie  quoque,'  inquit,  '  calceus 
pulcer  adspectu  est  ac  nouus,  sed  nemo  scit  vbi  me  premat.' 

21.  Lycurgus  made  a  law  .  . .  haue  to  much :  unrepresented  in  the 
Coniugalia  Praecepta,  but  occurs  in  the  Apophtheg.  Laconica,  1 5 ,  though 
without  asserting  a  connexion  between  virtue  and  poverty,  amorousness 
and  wealth.  Lyly  probably  borrowed  it  from  Tylney's  Flower  of  Friend 
ship,  sig.  B  ij  verso—'  But  Licurgus  the  law  maker  well  considered  that, 
when  he  ordayned  that  women  shoulde  be  married  without  dowries,  so 
that  then  they  had  nothing  to  be  prowde  off,  saue  onely  their  vertues, 
which  ought  to  be  accounted  ye  chiefest  dowrie.  For  that  which  is  more 
excellent,  is  to  be  preferred  before  things  of  lower  valour.' 

24.  Behaue  thy  self  modestly  .  .  .  daughter :  grounded  on  Precept 
XIII  '  Cato  senatu  mouit  eum  qui  praesente  filia  osculatus  erat  vxorem. 
seuerius  fortassis  aequo ' :  but  the  following  four  11.  '  olde  men  .  .  . 
wiues  part'  are  Lyly's.  Plutarch  says  nothing  so  strict.  The  name 
Manilius,  not  found  in  the  Coniug.  Praec.,  occurs  in  Plutarch's  Cato  Maior, 
c.  17,  §  10,  where  the  same  story  is  related. 

30.  Imitate  the  Kings  of  Persia  .  .  .  their  table-.  Precept  XVI  'Per- 
sarum  regibus  in  coena  ac  conuiuiis  adsident  reginae :  verum  vbi  ludendi 
&  inebriandi  incessit  voluntas,  eas  amandant,  £  musicas  pellicesque  ad- 
vocant.  rect£  hoc  quidem,  quod  ebrietatis  &  libidinis  suae  participes  fieri 
vxores  nolunt.' 

32.  Giue  no  example  .  .  .  hir  least :  no  special  original  for  these  two 
lines. 

34.  And  yet  woulde  I  not . . .  wash  it :  these  three  lines  are  shortened 
from  the  opening  of  Precept  XXIX  '  Quae  arridere  viro  metuit,  aut  aliquid 
aliud  id  genus  facere,  ne  videatur  proterua  &  audax,  nihil  ab  ea  distat, 
quae  vt  non  videatur  vnguento  caput  habere  delibutum,  etiam  oleo 
abstineat,  &  ne  fucare  faciem  putetur,  ne  lauet  quidem  earn.' 

37 — P.  226,  6.  onely  let  hir  refraine . . .  moue  him  to  cholar :  these  seven 


540  NOTES 

11.  are  pretty  closely  from  Precept  XLV,  the  last  passage  of  Plutarch  which 
is  laid  under  contribution :  '  Qui  ad  elephantos  accedunt,  splendido,  qui 
ad  tauros,  puniceo  vestitu  non  vtuntur,  quod  his  coloribus  animalia  ista 
in  rabie  vertuntur.  tigres  traditum  est  tympanorum  circum  pulsatorum 
sonitu  omnino  in  furorem  coiici  ac  divellere  seipsas.  Cum  itaque  viri 
quoque  sint,  quibus  coccinae  &  purpureae  vestis  conspectus  sit  moles- 
tissimus,  aut  qui  cymbala  &  tympana  aegre  ferant :  quid  habet  difficultatis 
abstinere  his  mulieres,  neque  perturbare  aut  irritare  maritum,  sed  placide 
£  constanter  cum  eo  degere  ? ' 

P.  226,  7.  Be  thriftie  .  .  .  wrongfully :  not  in  Plutarch  or  Tylney. 

10-14.  Flye  thatvyce . . .  lelousie . . .  boot  less  e:  these  five  11.  seem  to  owe 
something  to  The  Flower  of  Friendship,  sig.  C  vii  verso,  against  jealousy : 
*  For,  trust  me,  no  wisedome,  no  craft,  no  science,  no  strength,  no  sub- 
tiltie,  yea,  no  pacience,  suffiseth  to  enforce  a  woman,  to  be  true  to  hir 
husbande,  if  she  otherwise  determine.  Therefore  I  conclude  to  be  ieolous, 
eyther  needeth  not,  or  booteth  not.' 

1 5-20.  Be  not  too  imperious  ...to  suffer  too  much :  these  six  11.  are  based 
on  The  Flower,  sig.  C  iij  verso :  '  The  married  man  then  must  not  be 
rigorous  toward  his  wife.  For  there  will  discorde  grow  by  hir  inward 
hate,  and  neuer  shall  they  haue  ioy,  or  peace,  if  the  woman  cannot  refraine 
hir  tongue,  nor  the  man  suffer.' 

21.  In  gouerningthy  householde^  £c. :  the  remaining  page  and  a  half 
of  the  letter  are  original:  the  first  part  is  euphuistic,  the  rest  concerned  with 
the  characters  of  the  novel. 

27.  Breake  nothing  of  thy  stocke  :  i.  e.  don't  break  into  your  capital. 

Stone  Thyrremis  :  Lyly's  invention. 

P.  227,  2.  silken  throtes  .  .  .  swallow  no  packthred:  i.e.  turn  up  their 
noses  either  at  coarse  fare  or  coarse  work. 

30.  yerke :  a  variant  of  '  jerk,'  to  lash,  strike  smartly.  Cf.  Pappe, 
vol.  iii.  p.  407  1. 14  'if  they  [children]  tread  it  [their  meat]  vnder  their feete, 
they  ought  to  be  ierkt.'  But  here,  perhaps,  rather  a  variant  of  the  quite 
distinct  word  '  irk.' 

P.  228,  7.  Mount  of  Silixsedra :  imaginary  ;  though  Thomas  Lodge 
found  some  remains  of  Euphues  on  his  voyage  to  the  Canaries,  which  he 
introduced  to  English  readers  as  Rosalynd,  Eiiphues  Golden  Legacie,  1590, 
and  so  gave  rise  to  Shakespeare's  forest-company  in  Arden,  and  the 
revival  of  Euphues  himself  in  the  person  of  the  melancholy  Jaques.  See 
Introductory  Essay,  vol.  i.  167-8. 

18.  the  one  .  .  .  rub  his  head',  i.  e.  Euphues  would  find  some  cause  of 
disquiet. 

CAMPASPE. 

P.  315,  2.  Lepidus  .  .  .  set  -up  a  beaste,  &c. :  the  story  is  told  in  Pliny's 
Nat.  Hist.  xxxv.  38  *  somnum  ademtum  sibi  volucrum  concentu,'  &c. 


CAMPASPE  541 

6.  famine  .  .  .  when  Nilus  flowed  lesse  then  twelue  Cubites  :  Pliny,  v. 
10  '  lustum  incrementum  est  cubitorum  xvi  .  .  .  ampliores  aquae  detinent 
tardius  recedendo  ...  In  duodecim  cubitis  famem  sentit  .  .  .  Maximum 
incrementum  ad  hoc  aevi  fuit  cubitorum  decem  et  octo.' 

14.  Basill,  &c.  :  no  precise  authority  for  this  in  Pliny,  xx.  48,  which 
deals  with  'ocimum'  (basilicum). 

16.  slylye:  'superficially'  (Keltic)  ;  but  no  example  of  this  sense  is 
quoted,  and  probably  the  true  reading  is  '  slightly.' 

18.  two  nightes  .  .  .  Hercules.  Hygin.  Fab.  29  (lupiter)  '  tarn  libens 
cum  ea  (Alcumena)  concubuit,  vt  vnum  diem  vsurparet,  duas  noctes 
congeminaret/ 

20.  mulbery,  &c.  :  founded  on  Pliny,  xv.  27  *  In  novissimis  florent.' 

the  Hares,  who  at  one  time,  £c..:  Pliny,  viii.  81  '  Lepus  .  .  .  super- 
foetat,  aliud  educans,  aliud  in  utero  pilis  vestitum,  aliud  implume,  aliud 
inchoatum  gerens  pariter.' 

22.  Trochilus,  £c.  :  supposed  to  be  the  golden-crested  wren.  The 
detail  is  not  found  in  Pliny,  viii.  37.  Cf.  Euph.  ii.  144  1.  II  note. 

27.  pot-hearbes  .  .  .  flowers  :  Euphues,  vol.  i.  272  1.  29  '  aswel  sow 
the  pothearb  as  the  Margerom,'  &c. 

30.  like  the  Mindyans,  &c.  :  from  the  Life  of  Diogenes,  by  Diog. 
Laertius,  vi.  2.  §  6  (57)  et's  Mwdoy  cXQiav  KOI  $ea<ra/iej/os  /ueyaXa?  ray  TrvXas, 
8e  rr]v  TToXiv,  avdpes  Mwdtot,  e^j/,  KXeurare  ray  TrvXay,  /MJ)  rj  Tro'Xi?  \> 


P.  316,  1.  fluttered',  the  reading  of  the  earliest  quartos,  and  obviously 
right,  for  Lyly  is  alluding  to  a  previous  popular  performance  at  the  Black- 
friars,  which  would  serve  as  a  rehearsal  for  its  production  at  Court.  In 
some  of  the  quarto  copies  the  Court  Prologue  is,  by  a  binder's  mistake, 
placed  before  the  other.  The  Blackfriars  Epilogue  precedes  that  at  Court 
in  all  cases. 

3.  Silenus  Asse,  £c.  :  whose  bray  had  saved  Vesta  from  violation  by 
Priapus,  Ov.  Fast.  vi.  333  sqq. 

4.  Alcebiades,  &c.  :  Lyly's  common  trick  of  capping  an  authorized 
instance  by  an  invented  one. 

8.  Gods  supped  .  .  .  with  .  .  .  Baucis.     Ov.  Met.  viii.  631  sqq. 

9.  Persian  kings  sometimes  shaued  stickes  \  cf.  Eitph.  ii.  213  1.  23  'ye 
kings  of  Persia,  who  in  their  progresses  did  nothing  els  but  cut  stickes  to 
driue  away  the  time  '  —  where  see  note. 

10.  Appion  raising  Homer  e,  &c.  :  Reed  in  Dodsley,  ed.  1780,  quotes 
the  passage  from  Pliny,  xxx.  6  *  Cum  Apion,  grammaticae  artis,  prodiderit 
.  .  .  se  evocasse  umbras  ad  percunctandum  Homerum,  quanam  patria, 
quibusque  parentibus  genitus  esset  ;  non  tamen  ausus  profiteri,  quid  sibi 
respondisse  diceret.'     Apion,  a  native  of  Oasis  in  Egypt,  taught  rhetoric 
at  Rome  under  Tiberius  and  Claudius. 

14.  Agrippa  his  shadowes,  &c.  :  I  find  nothing  in  Pliny. 


542  NOTES 

15.  Lynces:  their  piercing  sight,  only,  is  mentioned,  Pliny,  xxviii.  32. 
17.  these  torches,  £c. :  imitated  by  Shakespeare,  Meas.  for  Meas. 
i.  I.  33  '  Heaven  doth  with  us  as  we  with  torches  do, 

Not  light  them  for  themselves.' 

Wax  '  torches '  are  referred  to  again  in  the  Epilogue  at  Court ;  and 
whether  set  in  '  braunches '  or  carried  by  '  Torche-bearers  '  figure  largely 
in  the  Revels  Accounts. 

P.  317,  5.  thrust  aside :  the  awkward  locution  is  due  to  the  perpetual 
quest  of  alliterative  parallelism. 

12.  Turkies  to  staine  each  other :  turquoises  to  outvie  and  dim  each 
other's  tint.  So  of  rubies,  Euph.  ii.  22  1.  36. 

17.  heaue  at :  vomit  at. 

P.  318,  31.  Thebes  .  .  .  walles  .  .  .  harpe:  Horace,  Ars  Poet.  394 
'  Dictus  et  Amphion,  Thebanae  conditor  arcis, 
Saxa  movere  sono  testudinis  et  prece  blanda 
Ducere  quo  vellet.' 

51.  then  which^  &c. :  Campaspe's  reply  shows  which  to  refer  to  the 
clause  '  he  is  Alexander.' 

P.  319,  59.  Like  your  maiesty.  may  it  please  your  Majesty. 

64.  Theagenes,  &c. :  general  of  the  Theban  forces,  who  fell  at 
Chaeronea  338  B.C.  Alexander's  capture  of  Thebes  was  three  years  later, 
335  B.C.  See  passage  from  Plutarch,  quoted  under  'Sources.' 

71.  No  sister  to  Theagines'.  a  possible  ref.  to  Heliodorus'  ^Ethiopica, 
where  Chariclea  passes  as  her  lover  Theagines'  sister.  Cf.  M.  Bomb. 
i.  i.  29  note. 

P.  32O,  5.  Natura  paucis  content  a :  '  Si  ad  naturam  vives,  nunquam 
eris  pauper/  Seneca,  Epist.  xvi.  7  ;  Lyly's  words  are  perhaps  from  some 
medical  treatise. 

8.  dogbolt'.  contemptible  fellow,  mere  tool.     Cf.  N.E.  D.  s.  v. 
22.  Mons,  &  mouendO)  &c. :  lucus  a  non  lucendo,  which  Lyly  parodies, 
is  from  Quintilian,  De  Inst.  Orat.  i.  6.  34  (Harbottle). 

27.  Passing',  excellent. 
P.  321,  36.  body  is  the  prison  of  the  soule:  Plato's  Phaedo,  82-3. 

43.  Plato  is  the  best  fellow,  &c.:  cf.  Euph.  vol.  i.  190  1.  28  'Plato, 
retayning  alwayes  good  company.' 

57.  counterfeiting',  painting,  especially  of  portraits,  as  repeatedly  in 
Euphues,  e.g.  above,  p.  3  1.  13,  and  just  below.  In  1.  59  table  =  picture. 
63.  liued  by  sauours :  a  much  later  instance  (c.  1604  ?)  is  cited  in 
Middleton  and  Massinger's  Loves  C^tre,  ii.  i  'the  miraculous  Maid  in 
Flanders  .  .  .  she  that  liv'd  three  years  without  any  other  sustenance  than 
the  smell  of  a  rose.' 

67.  fauours  :  features,  looks.     A.Y.L.  I.  iv.  3.  87  '  Of  female  favour.' 
P.  322,  73.  semper  animus  .  .  .  in  patinis'.  Ter.  Eun.  iv.  7.  46  '  lam- 
dudum  animus  est  in  patinis.' 


CAMPASPE  543 

77.  plures  occidit . . .  musa  ieiunantibus  arnica :  these  maxims  are  not 
classical,  but  probably  taken,  like  the  following  saying  attributed  to 
Socrates,  from  some  well-known  textbook  of  medicine.  Musa  is  a  pun, 
by  Lyly  or  the  textbook,  on  the  name  of  Antonius  Musa,  the  physician 
of  Augustus,  whose  (spurious)  work,  De  tuend.  valetud.,  p.  112  '  Decimo 
quoque  die  ieiunando,'  is  quoted  by  Forcellini  as  the  only  classical  instance 
of  the  verb  ieiuno.  It  was  printed  1538,  4to.  *  Plures  occidit  gula  quam 
gladius  '  is  given  among  '  turbam  proverbiorum  e  mediis  triuiis  petitam ' 
at  the  end  of  the  additions  to  Erasmus'  Adagia,  ed.  1574.  It  is  of  no 
classical  authority.  For  the  saying  here  attributed  to  Socrates,  I  can 
quote  nothing  nearer  than  the  proverb  cited  by  Erasmus,  Tra^eta  yao-rqp 

\€7TTOV    OV    TtKTfl    VOOV. 

P.  322,  80.  gaily  mafrey:  cf.  N.E.D.  s.v. 

82.  the  dogs  almes :  such  scraps  as  are  thrown  to  dogs. 

85.  of  Granichus'.  Dodsley  prints  of  Granicus,  understanding, 
I  suppose,  an  allusion  to  the  battle  of  334  B.C.,  which  Alexander  had  not 
yet  fought. 

P.  323.    [Enter  MELIPPUS]  :  this  personage  has  no  historical  repre 
sentative. 

6.  Melissa  his  maid,  £c.  :  this  story,  repeated  from  Euph.  i.  276  1.  2, 
is  related  by  Valerius  Maximus,  viii.  7.  5,  not  of  Chrysippus,  but  of 
Carneades.  Diogenes  Laertius  does  not  give  it  in  his  life  of  either, 
though  he  mentions  that  Chrysippus  was  TO  o-<»/zarioi>  eireX^y  (vii.  7.  4). 

9.  so  great  clarkes  such  simple  courtiers',  this  is  probably  the  sug 
gestion  of  Theseus'  description  of  his  stammering  welcome  by  'great 
clerks,'  Mids.  N.  Dream,  v.  I.  93  sqq. 

12.  sitting  in  a  tub  .  .  .  reade  Greek  to  a  yong  boy  :  for  Diogenes'  tub 
see  Diogenes  Laertius,  Vitae  Philosophorum,  vi.  ch.  2.  §  3  o-ret'Xay  fie  rm 
oiKidtov  at>ra>  Trpovorjo-ao'dat,  /3pa5uj'orros>,  rov  ev  rcS  Mrjrpuxo  iridov  ecr\ev  oiKiav, 
a>s  Kal  avros  ev  rats  eVtaroXai?  §iao-a<pet.  In  a  later  section  it  is  related  that 
the  Athenians  punished  a  young  man  who  had  broken  the  tub,  and 
presented  Diogenes  with  another.  Xeniades  is  specially  mentioned  as 
one  who  entrusted  the  philosopher  with  the  education  of  his  sons.  His 
love  of  sunlight  is  alluded  to  §  6  (38),  and  also  in  Plutarch's  Alexander, 
c.  14. 

17.  but  he  is  Alexander;  I,  but  I  am  Diogenes'.  Diog.  Laert.  vi.  2. 
§  6  (60)  'A\«£af&pou  rrore  eTTicrrai/roff  avr(o  /cat  etVovroy  '  e'ya>  et'/u  'A\e£avdpos 
6  jueyar  jSacrtXeusr,'  '  /ca-ya>,  <j)r)<ri}  Aioyevrjs  6  KVU>V! 

21.  Alexander  may  repent  it,  &c. :  Diog.  Laertius  relates  it  of  Diogenes 
and  Perdiccas,  vi.  2.  §  6  (44)  e'Ke~lv0  <^  p.a\\ov  dneiXelv  rj^iov  <os  '  el  /cat  ^coply 
e/j.ov  {rjcrai,  evdat/j-ovas  £r;(roiTO.' 

25.  Plato.  It  is  a  difficult  controuersie,  &c. :  the  ensuing  discussion 
recalls  the  opinions  attributed  by  Euphues  to  the  various  philosophers  in 
the  dialogue  with  Atheos,  vol.  i.  293,  and  is  founded  largely  on  Cicero's  De 


544  NOTES 

Nat.  Deorum.  Plato's  two  speeches  here  are  probably  the  original  of 
Lafeu's  in  AlFs  Well,  ii.  3. 1-6  *  They  say,  miracles  are  past ;  and  we  have 
our  philosophical  persons,  to  make  modern  and  familiar,  things  super 
natural  and  causeless.  Hence  is  it,  that  we  make  trifles  of  terrors, 
ensconcing  ourselves  into  seeming  knowledge,  when  we  should  submit 
ourselves  to  an  unknown  fear.' 

P.  324,  29.  /  cannot  by  naturall  reason  .  .  .  miserere  met:  repeated 
from  Eiiph.  vol.  i.  293  1. 10  'Aristotle  when  he  coulde  not  finde  out . . .  cryed 
out  .  .  .  O  thing  of  things  haue  mercy  vpon  mee.'  Where  see  note. 

34.  'whitest  you  stiidie  a  cause  of  your  owne:  Diog.  Laertius,  Life  of 
Aristotle,  v.  I.  §  13  ei>  -re  rols  (frvo-iKols  utTioAoyiKooraTO?  iravraiv  cyevfro 
juaXiora,  coare  KCU  Trcpi  TO>V  e'Aa^i'frrooi'  ras  alrias  aTrodtdovat. 

38.  Cleant.  I  am  of  this  minde,  &c. :  what  Cleanthes  here  asserts  is 
that  Nature  is  the  ultimate  cause,  an  emphasis  being  laid  on  the  pronoun 
we,  1.  39.  Lyly  is  perhaps  summarizing  the  passage,  given  more  at  large 
in  Euph.  i.  293,  from  Cicero's  De  Nat.  Dear.  ii.  5. 

47.  Natura  naturans'.  Ducange's  Glossarium  Mediae  et  Infimae 
Latinitatis  s.  v.  Naturare  has  '  Creare,  res  naturales  condere,  iis  naturam 
donare.  Verbum  est  Theologorum  Scholasticorum,  quibus  Deus  dicitur 
Natura  Naturans,  non  natura  naturata,  id  est,  Auctor  naturae  seu 
omnium  in  rerum  natura  constantium,  non  natura  Naturata,  seu  res 
creata,  ab  alio  condita,  constituta.'  In  other  words,  Natura  Naturans 
postulates  for  Nature  a  self-existing  power. 

53.  were  not .  .  .  knew  not,  &c. :  Fairholt  regards  Blount's  corruption 
are  not .  .  .  know  not  as  a  '  correction '  of  the  grammar ! 

P.  325,  69.  Calistenes,  &c. :  the  temerity  of  this  philosopher's  attitude 
towards  Alexander  while  in  Asia,  and  Aristotle's  dissociation  of  himself 
from  such  attitude,  are  touched  on  in  Diog.  Laertius,  v.  I.  §  6.  The 
growth  of  ill-feeling  between  Callisthenes  and  Alexander  is  also  related  in 
Plutarch's  life  of  the  latter,  chs.  52-5,  together  with  Callisthenes'  sup 
posed  connexion  with  the  conspiracy  of  Hermolaus,  and  the  '  ill  will  he 
[Alexander]  bore  unto  Aristotle,  for  that  Callisthenes  had  bene  brought  up 
with  him,  being  his  kinsman,  and  the  sone  of  Hero,  Aristotle's  neece. 
Some  saie,  that  Alexander  trussed  Callisthenes  up.  Others  againe  report, 
that  he  died  of  sickenes  in  prison.'  Cf.  Euphues,  ii.  96  1.  33  note. 

75.  affection :  the  fact  that  I  am  personally  affected. 

79.  by  contrary :  I  think  by,  the  reading  of  Q2,  may  be  right,  the  verb 
be  being  understood,  as  often,  though  subsequent  editions  alter  by  to  be. 

81.  aske  euery  one  of  them  a  question,  &c. :  the  whole  of  this  passage 
is  lifted  direct  from  North's  Plutarch,  Alexander.  See  under  *  Sources,' 
p.  308. 

P.  326,  102.  So  would  I,  were  I  Hephestion'.  Plutarch's  Alexander, 
c.  xxix,  when  Darius  offered  ten  thousand  talents  as  ransom  for  all 
prisoners  taken  and  countries  conquered  to  the  west  of  Euphrates  *  Par- 


CAMPASPE  545 

menio  said  unto  him:  If  I  were  Alexander,  quoth  he,  surely  I  would 
accept  this  offer.  So  would  I  in  deede,  quoth  Alexander  againe,  if  I  were 
Parmenio.' 

Exeunt  [ALEX.  . .  .  CLIT.]  Previous  editions  have  only  Exeunt.  The 
scene  up  to  this  point  has  been  supposed  as  Alexander's  palace,  as  is 
evident  from  his  words  to  Diogenes,  ii.  2.  123.  The  Exeunt  of 
Alexander  and  his  courtiers  is  the  stage-way  of  indicating  that  the  philo 
sophers  have  left  the  palace  and  during  their  next  few  words  are  supposed 
to  be  walking  towards  the  market-place,  where  they  find  Diogenes'  tub. 
The  same  change  is  supposed  to  occur  in  ii.  2.  117  and  iii.  4.  39. 
See  Introduction  under  Place  and  Time.  Actually  the  tub  must  in  each 
case  have  been  thrust  on  from  the  back,  perhaps  over  a  trap-door  through 
which  Diogenes  could  enter  it. 

115.  Plato.  Thou  takest  as  great  pride,  &c. :  Di.  Laert.  vi.  2.  4  (25-6). 

120.  thou  didst  counterfeate  monye :  Diog.  Laert.  vi.  2.  §  I  ou  p)i/ 
aXXa  K.OL  avros  TTfpi  atiToC  (prjviv  eV  ra>  Ilop6aXa>  a>s  napa^apd^at  TO 
v6nKrp.a.  The  charge  is  more  correctly  brought  against  his  father,  Icesias, 
a  banker  at  Sinope. 

130.  be  iump  with :  be  in  accord  with.  *  The  musike  .  .  .  was 
jumpe  concord  betweene  our  wit  and  will.'  Arcadia,  bk.  iii  (Whitney). 

134.  To  be  Socrates  furious'.  Diog.  Laert.  vi.  2.  §  6  (54)  (Plato) 
VTTO     TWOS,     'nows    ri's    aoi     Aioyfvrjs     doKet  ; '    ( Soo/cpar//?,     ewrf, 
'    This,  and  the  tale  of  Manes,  p.  327  1.  23,  are  in  Ael.  V.  H. 
xiii.  28  (Fleming,  ff.  155-6). 

P.  327,   2.    bones  for  his  dinner'.    Diog.  Laert.  vi.  2.  §  3  ^pav  T 
€KOfj.i<raTO,  fvda  airo)  ra  <rm'a  TJV. 

pinnes  for  his  sleeues :  because  in  holes. 

11.  easie  without  thy  light  to  be  found'.  Diog.  Laert.  vi.  2.  §  6  (41) 
\v%vov  [Afff  fjfjLtpav  ax/ray  Trepi/yei  Xeya>j>  '  avdpwnov  ^Ta>.' 

23.  It  were  a  shame  .  . .  need  of  Diogenes  :  Diog.  Laert.  vi.  2.  §  6  (55) 
npos  TOVS  o-vp&ovXevovTas  TOV  OTroSpai/ra  avTOv  Sov\ov  ^rjTelv,  '  -yeXoioi/,  6(^/7,  ft 
M.UVTJS  p.ev  XWP>1?  Awyevovs  f^}  Ato-yei/ijs  fie  ^wpis  Mdvov  ov  dvvrjtrcTai.' 

P.  328,  37.  taken  tardie :   so  J/.  Bombie,  ii.  4.  i  « We  were  all  taken 
tardie '  of  the  pages  caught  by  their  masters  in  the  tavern. 

42.  Quia  non  egeo  tui  vel  te :  schoolboys  apply  in  joke  the  phrases 
learnt  in  school,  and  Lyly  writing  for  the  choir-boys  often  avails  himself 
of  the  habit.  In  the  Shorte  Introduction  of  Grammar  (by  Lilly  and  Colet) 
ed.  1577,  4to,  sig.  C  viii  recto,  among  instances  of  verbs  constructed  with 
a  genitive  occurs  *  Egeo,  or  indigeo  tui  vel  te.' 

50.  consent  beetweene  a  crowde,  &c. :  harmony  (more  properly  spelt 
concent)  between  a  fiddle,  &c.  Crowd  is  a  Celtic  word,  Welsh  crwth, 
*  fiddle/  akin  to  croth, '  swelling '  or  '  belly '  (N.  E.  D.).  Cf.  *  What  crouding 
knaues  haue  we  there  ? '  applied  to  the  fiddlers,  M,  Bombie,  v.  3.  78. 

62.  at  al  times  when  he  hath  meate :  Diog.  Laert.  vi.  2.  §  6  (40) 

HOND     II  N    n 


546  NOTES 

npos  rov  7rv06fifvov  iroia  &pa  8ft  dpicrraz/,  '  fl  pcv  n\ov<nos,  ?<£»;,  orav 
(I  df  irevrjs,  orav  €xn> 

66.  Ales  vendibili,  &c. :  Lyly  latinizes  '  Good  ale  (for  wine)  needs  no 
bush.'  The  wine-bush  has  no  classical  progenitor,  though  ivy  was 
adopted  because  anciently  sacred  to  Bacchus. 

P.  329,  8.  the  Lapwing,  &c. :  a  favourite  simile  among  Elizabethans. 
Cf.  Euph.  ii.  4 1. 1 8  'the  Lappwing  . . .  flyeth  with  a  false  cry  farre  from  their 
nestes  ' ;  Com.  of  Errors,  iv.  2.  27  ;  and  Massinger's  Old  Law ',  iv.  2  'the 
lapwing's  cunning  .  .  .  That  cries  most  when  she's  farthest  from  the  nest.' 

12.  or  were  I  as  farre  from  ambition,  &c. :  hasty  antithesis,  merely  of 
form.  Want  of  ambition  would  be  but  slender  argument  of  valiancy. 

P.  330,  35.  Is  the  warlike  soud,  &c. :  Reed,  Fairholt,  and  Mezieres 
(1863)  note  that  this  speech  of  Hephaestion's  may  be  the  prototype  of 
Richard's  opening  speech  in  Richard  III,  i.  I  '  Grim-visaged  war  .  .  . 
lascivious  pleasing  of  a  lute.'  Barbed  steeds,  in  both,  means  armed  and 
caparisoned.  The  alternative  form  barded  preserves  better  the  derivation 
from  Fr.  barde,  horse-armour. 

49,  pretious  stoes  .  .  .  polished  with  honny :  Pliny,  Nat.  Hist,  xxxvii. 
74  merely  says  that  precious  stones  in  general  are  improved  in  brilliancy 
by  being  boiled  in  honey.  Cf.  Euph.  ii.  64  1.  6,  82.  1.  21. 

51.  Mugil .  .  .  Bret,  £c. :  Mugilis  mullet,  bret  is  ray  (raia pastinaca, 
Linn.).  The  source  is  Pliny,  ix.  67  '  (Pastinaca)  .  .  .  Argumenta  solertiae 
huius,  quod  tardissimi  piscium  hi  mugilem  velocissimum  omnium  habentes 
in  ventre  reperiuntur.' 

55.  Hermyns:  ermines.     Cf.  Euph.  ii.  62  1.  I. 

56.  Sepulchres,  &c. :  borrowed  from  Pettie's  Pallace  as  in  Eiiphues, 
i.  202  1.  ii  (note). 

61.  the  sparow.  associated  with  Venus,  on  account  of  its  philo- 
progenitiveness.  Cf.  Apelles'  song  below,  p.  343,  'His  Mothers  doues, 
&  teeme  of  sparows ' ;  and  Livia  in  M.  Bomb.  i.  3.  121  'Turtles  and 
Sparrowes,  for  our  truth  and  desires.' 

71.  ouerseene  and  ouertaken  :  of  loss  of  judgement  and  liberty. 
P.  331,  78.  sentences :  maxims,  sententiae. 

80.  a  great  prince,  whose  passions,  &c. :  the  flattery  of  Elizabeth,  and 
excuse  for  \\tr  penchants  should  not  escape  the  reader. 

107.  may  aunswere  her  wants  :  i.  e.  may  amend  disparity  by  bestow 
ing  rank  upon  her. 

P.  332,  138.  take  not  from  me  .  .  .  the  light  of  the  world:  Diog.  Laert. 
vi.  2.  §  6  (38)  fv  TO>  Kpavcia)  ^Xtou/ieixB  avrw  'A\e£av8pos  firiaras  <$)r)(Tiv, 
1  <UTr)<r6v  p.e  o  $eXfi9.'  /cat  oy,  ' a.Troo'KQTrjo'ov  /zou,'  (farjari.  See  also  the  passage 
from  Plutarch's  life  of  Alexander  quoted  under  Sotirces. 

144.   Thou  shalt  Hue  no  longer,  &c. :   Diog.  Laert.  vi.  2.  §  6  (44) 
ov  aTT€i\t](ravTos,  el  pf)  eX$ot  irpos  avrov,  anoKreveiv,  e<^T/,  '  ov8ev  ptya' 
i  yap  KavOapos  Ka\  <$>a\ayywv  roCr'  av  7Tpa£ei6j/.' 


CAMPASPE  547 

148.  were  I  not  Alexander,  &c. :   Ib.  (32)  <£a<ri  Be  KOI  *AXe|aj/5pov 

as  fiirep  'A.\€%av8pos  pr)  eyeyoveiv,  rjdfXrjara  av  Aioyevijs  yevevQai. 
P.  333,  150.  with  a  kindeofsweetenesi  Diog.  Laert.  Id.  §  10  (76)  roiavrt) 

Tis  Trpoovji/  "vy£  rols  Atoyevovs  \6yois. 

157.  shadowed:  depicted  (Fairholt).  For Ventis  unfinished  cf.  Euph* 
ii.  6,  59,  205. 

12.  affections :  bent  of  mind,  disposition.     In  Shakespeare  the  word 
is  still  often  used  in  this  more  general  sense. 
P.  334,  13.  remember  .  . .  certaine  licour,  &c. :  referring  to  ii.  i,  p.  328. 

24.  may  bee  alluded  to  manye  things  :  the  Elizabethan  transitive,  and 
therefore  the  passive,  use  of  '  allude  to  '  has  been  replaced  by  our  intransi 
tive  use,  not  found  in  Shakespeare. 

30.  girders :  caustic  critics.  Attention  has  been  called  to  Lyly's 
following  definition  of  a  quip.  It  is  evident  from  Psyllus'  tone  with  Manes 
that  the  latter  is  conceived  as  having  something  of  the  'carterly,'  un 
polished,  disposition  of  his  master,  Diogenes  ;  a  circumstance  which  lends 
humour  to  his  assumption  of  learning  and  logic  in  ii.  i,  and  of  wit  in  the 
present  scene.  In  this  way  he  faintly  adumbrates  the  rustic  shrewdness 
of  the  early  Shakespearean  clowns,  Costard,  Launce,  and  the  Dromios  ; 
and,  after  these  have  appeared,  Lyly  returns  to  the  type  and  exhibits  it 
more  successfully  in  Gunophilus  (Woman  in  the  Moone}.  Manes  is  older 
than  the  others  ;  cf.  ii.  I.  60,  iii.  2.  23. 

P.  335,  38.  ouerthwarts :    sharp   answers.      It  occurs  Endim.  iii.   i. 
17,  Loves  Met.  v.  4.  141 :  cf.  vol.  i.  65,  203  1.  23  '  ouerthwartnesse.' 

39.  perijsti,  actum  est  de  te  :  probably  recalling  Ter.  Eunuch,  i.  I.  9 
*  actum  est :  ilicet :  Peristi,'  and  indicating  the  Terentian  origin  of  Lyly's 
comic  servants. 

40.  bob  :  hit,  repartee. 

51.  flye  so  :  i.  e.  fly  in  jest.  The  context  clearly  justifies  my  change 
of  the  punctuation. 

54.  O ysf:  i.e.  Oyez,  hear  ye,  the  old  French  form  with  which  pro 
clamations  opened. 

63.  when  euery  way  is  open  ?  from  this  question  of  Psyllus,  no  less 
than  from  '  Diogenes  prying  ouer  his  tubbe,'  and  '  Downe,  villaine  ! '  &c., 
addressed  to  him  in  v.  3.  33,  it  seems  as  if  the  tub  was  conceived  as 
resting  on  its  end ;  though  from  Melippus'  description  of  it  as  '  turned 
towardes  the  sunne '  (i.  3.  12),  it  is  also  clear  that  Lyly  imagined  it  as 
sometimes  on  its  side.  The  former  position  lends  itself  better  to  these 
sudden  inclusions  of  Diogenes  in  a  scene  where  he  has  not  previously 
appeared  to  be  present  (i.  3.  no,  ii.  2.  121,  iii.  4.  45,  iv.  i.  24,  v.  3.  22,  v. 
4.  38),  and  where  his  entry  and  exit  are  not  recorded  in  the  old  eds.,  as  his 
exit  is  in  one  other  scene,  ii.  I.  53. 

P.  336,  7.    absolute :  perfect.     '  Absolute  or  imperfect,'  Saph.  Prol.  at 
Court. 

NH2 


548  NOTES 

10.  whom  loue  deceiued :  loue  (Q*)  is  probably  the  true  reading,  but 
loue  yields  sense. 

12.  Alcmena,  &c. :  Hyg.  Fab.  29. 
14.  fact :  deed. 

20.  Antiopa:  Hyg.  Fab.  155  among  a  list  of  Jupiter's  sons  are 
enumerated  'Zethus  &  Amphion  ex  Antiopa  Nictei  filia.' 

P.  337,  6.  they  haue  long  eares,  &c. :  Ov.  Ep.  xvii.  1 66.  Reed  refers 
to  Euph.  i.  221  1.  34  '  kinges  haue  long  armes  &  rulers  large  reches,'  and 
quotes  Ovid's  lines  from  Damon  and  Pithias. 

P.  338,  18.  Aristotle  .  .  .  many  worlds,  &c. :  Plut.  De  Tranq.  An.  c.  4  ; 
cf.  Euph.  ii.  28  1,  27. 

40.  S.  D.  \enter  CRYSUS]  :  an  imaginary  character. 
P.  339,  57.  Apelles  ?  :  this  word  is  the  signal  for  an  imaginary  transfer 
ence  of  scene.  The  previous  course  of  the  scene  has  required  it  to  be  in 
the  market-place  near  Diogenes'  tub,  even  if  an  earlier  transference  is  not 
required  at  11.  28-40  (from  the  palace  to  the  market-place),  effected  by  Alex 
ander  and  Hephaestion  pacing  to  and  fro  as  they  talk.  Now,  with  the  call 
to  Apelles,  the  stage  becomes  the  painter's  house,  as  in  scenes  I,  2,  3,  and 
the  drawing  back  of  the  curtains  discovers  Apelles  painting,  as  at  the 
close  of  scene  3. 

59.  put .  .  .  to  his  trump  :  make  him  play  his  trump  card,  i.e.  put  him 
to  his  last  push  (Keltic).  Whitney  quotes  Peele's  Edward  /,  Act  iv  '  Ay, 
there's  a  card  that  puts  us  to  our  trump.' 

76.  Aurelius,  &c.  :  Lyly  here  supplies  a  name  to  the  story  he  told  us 
before,  Euphues,  i.  271  1.  35,  Plut.  De  Educ.  c.  9. 

P.  340,  86.  4.  colours  are  sufficiet :  Pliny,  xxxv.  32,  who  does  not  men 
tion  Phidias  in  this  connexion,  says  that  Apelles  himself  used  only  four. 
Compare  Euph.  ii.  121  1.  3  'When  Phydias  first  paynted,  they  vsed 
no  colours,  but  blacke,  white,  redde,  and  yeolow  :  Zeuxis  added  greene/  &c. 
See  note  on  that  passage. 

89.  yet  must  the  haire  .  .  .  be  yellowe  :  '  An  allusion  to  the  fashionable 
custom  of  dyeing  the  hair  yellow  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  in  compliment 
to  the  natural  colour  of  that  queen's.  It  was,  however,  a  favourite  tint 
during  the  Middle  Ages,  and  considered  the  type  of  beauty.  Thus  in  the 
romance  of  "  King  Alexander  "  we  hear  of  a  knight  whose  head  is  covered 
with  curls,  "  and  yellow  the  hair"  ;  and  in  Chaucer's  "  Knight's  Tale,"  we 
read  of  fair  Emilie, 

"  Her  yellow  hair  was  broided  in  a  tresse 

Adown  her  backe,  a  yarde  long  I  guesse." 

...  It  went  out  of  fashion  in  the  early  part  of  the  I7th  century,  as  appears 
by  a  little  book  entitled,  "  Artificial!  Embellishments,"  printed  at  Oxford, 
1665,'  &c.  (Fairholt). 

93.  garden  knottes  :  artificially  laid-out  flower-beds. 

96.  obseruing  blacke  for  a  ground :    Lyly   misunderstands   Pliny's 


CAMPASPE  549 

phrase  (xxxv.  36) { absoluta  opera  atramento  illinebat  ita  tenui,  ut  id  ipsum 
repercussu  claritates  colorum  excitaret,  custodiretque  a  pulvere  et  sordibus,' 
which  Bostock  and  Riley  correctly  interpret  of  a  fine  black  varnish  laid 
over  the  finished  picture. 

100.  Thecoale:  piece  of  charcoal. 

110.  a  board:  i.  e.  a  panel. 

117.  cotton  :  go  forward,  succeed  ;  a  metaphor  from  the  finishing  of 
cloth,  which,  when  it  cottons  or  rises  to  a  nap,  is  nearly  complete  (Nares). 
Cf.  M.  Bomb.  iv.  2.  84  *  So  :  twill  cotton.3 
P.  341,  120.  contrary,  contradict  (Reed  in  Dodsley,  1780). 

6.  since  my  camming:  Apelles  only  means  since  he  entered  the 
studio  with  Campaspe  at  the  close  of  scene  I.  Having  dismissed  Cam- 
paspe,  as  Alexander  directed,  1.  114  of  the  last  scene,  he  is  now  about 
to  obey  the  order  to  '  bring  presently  her  counterfeit  after '  the  king :  from 
11.  19  sqq.  below  he  evidently  has  it  in  his  hands. 

17.  cuning:    i.e.    the    very    painting    of   her   has    increased    his 
passion. 

18.  with  Satyrus  .  .  .  kisse  the  fire  \  cf.Euph.  ii.  42  1.  2  'as  Satirus  not 
knowing   what   fire  was,  wold  needs   embrace   it.'     Fabulae  Aesopicae 
(Lyons,  1571)   relates  this  as  occurring  on  the  introduction  of  fire  by 
Prometheus.     Cf.  Dyer's  sonnet  on  it,  Rawl.  MS.  Poet.  85,  f.  8. 

P.  342,  24.  what  Pigmalyon,  or  what  Pyrgoteles,  or  what  Lysippus, 
&c.  :  another  reference  (cf.  Euph.  ii.  38  1. 16,  73,77,  204)  to  Pliny's  state 
ment,  vii.  38  '  Idem  hie  imperator  [Alexander]  edixit,  ne  quis  alius,  quam 
Apelles,  pingeret ;  quam  Pyrogoteles,  sculperet ;  quam  Lysippus,  ex  aere 
duceret.'  Apelles,  who  is  contrasting  sculpture  with  painting,  substitutes 
Pygmalion's  name  for  his  own  in  the  trio. 

32.  cloth  of  estate  :  'the  canopy  placed  over  royalty'  (Fairholt). 

35.  swimme  against  the  streame  with  the  Crab,  &c. :  the  three  similes 
express  the  effort  involved  in,  the  caution  necessary  to,  and  finally  the 
hopelessness  of  his  cause.  The  crab  simile  was  used  in  Euphues.,  i.  208 
1.  10,  possibly  from  Pliny,  ix.  51  *  os  Ponti  evincere  non  valent.' 

37.  starres  are  to  be  looked  at,  not  reched  at :  origin,  perhaps,  of  the 
Duke's  words  in  regard  to  Silvia,  Two  Gent.  iii.  I.  156  'Wilt  thou  reach 
stars,  because  they  shine  on  thee  ? '  as  Collier  noted. 

43.   Venus  .  .  .  end  thee :  cf.  p.  333  1.  157  (note). 

51.  Colices:  cullises,  strong  broths,  Fr.  coulis. 

54.  cases  desperat .  .  .  medicines . . .  extreme :  so  Euph.  i.  214  1.  I. 
P.  343,  62.  Cupid  and  my  Campaspe'.  in  Desportes'  Amoiirs  de  Diane, 
liv.  i.  12,  Love,  Diana,  and  his  mistress  stake  respectively  their  bow, 
beauty,  and  pride  at  a  shooting-match,  and  his  mistress  wins. 

P.  344,  10.  hath  he  feathers  ?  :  probably  Diogenes'  '  flying '  is  sug 
gested  by  the  story  told  in  Diogenes  Laertius'  life  of  him,  vi.  2,  §  4  (27), 
that  having  attracted  attention  by  imitating  the  voices  of  birds,  he  pro- 


550  NOTES 

ceeded  to  rate  the  Athenians  for  their  frivolous  interest  in  such  a  perform 
ance  and  indifference  when  he  talked  of  matters  of  weight. 

14.  cut  the  ayre\  .  .  Tortoys :  alluding  to  Bidpai's  fable  of  one  carried 
through  the  air  hanging  on  a  stick  which  birds  supported — reproduced  in 
Doni's  Morall  Philosophic,  Englished  by  Sir  Thomas  North,  1570.  Cf. 
Marston's  Malcontent,  ii.  3.  20  '  As  foule  the  tortoise  nrockt.' 

24.  Yee  wicked  and  beewitched  Atheneans  :  this  attack  on  Athens  is 
one  of  the  points  of  contact  between  this  play  and  Euphues  ;  and  lends 
some  colour  to  Fleay's  idea  that  Diogenes  represents  Lyly  himself. 

27.  yee  call  me  dog",  a  term  often  applied  to  him  in  Diog.  Laert. 

31.  back  Gods  in  the  morning  with  pride  :  the  allusion  is  to  sump 
tuous  clothes  worn  on  the  back.  In  Sapho,  iii.  2.  5-8  *  Crit.  Thy  belly 
is  thy  God  .  .  .  Mol.  But  thy  backe  is  thy  God.' 

35.  the  wax:  to  make  your  religwn :  thinking,  not  of  candles  and  form 
alism,  but  of  moulding  to  suit  the  times — a  sneer  applicable,  not  to  Athens, 
but  to  contemporary  Oxford. 

39.  sow  roket  and  iveede  endiffe :  Euph.  i.  222  1.  25  '  the  seedes  of 
Rockatte,  which  breede  incontinencie,'  and  Pliny,  x.  83  *  eruca  fit  aviditas 
coitus.'    Endive  is  used  for  salad. 

40.  shear e  sheepe,  and  shrine  foxes  :  i.  e.  oppress  innocence,  and  exalt 
rapacious  cunning  (Keltic). 

41.  sealed'.  Reed  (Dodsley,  I7#o),  while  adopting  Dodsley's  reading 
seared,  suggests  in  a  note  that  sealed,  as  a  term  of  falconry  signifying 
'  blinded,'  may  be  right. 

43.  Al  things  are  lawfull  at  Athens  :  Euph.  i.  275  1. 28  from  Plutarch, 
Apophtheg.  Laconica  (Varid)  62. 

P.  345,  55.  Did  not  I  see  thee  came  out  of  a  brothel  house  ?  founded  on 
Plut.  De  Educat.  c.  vii,  where  Diogenes  is  said  to  have  ironically  advised 
the  repair  to  a  brothel,  in  order  to  learn  that  there  was  no  difference 
between  honourable  and  unworthy  life. 

63.  but  dogs  thy  father:    cf.  Goldsmith's  Elegy  on   the  Death   of 
a  Mad  Dog,  *  The  man  recover'd  of  the  bite,  |  The  dog  it  was  that  died/ 
76.  old  huddles :  I  doubt  if  the  notion  of  sordidness,  which  Fairholt 
traces,  can  be. maintained.     Nares  refers  it  to  old  men's  wraps:  or  it  may 
be  derived  from  the  bowed  figure.     But  see  Glossary,  vol.  iii. 

P.  346, 13.  Ants  .  .  .  gotten  wings :  Bostock  and  Riley's  note  on  Pliny, 
xi.  36,  says  that  male  and  female  ants  are  winged,  while  the  neutrals  or 
working  ants  have  no  wings. 

14.  luniper  .  .  .  blowne  vp :  i.  e.  uprooted  by  the  wind. 

P.  347, 8.  Bees  to  make  their  hiues  in  soldiers  helmets'.  Euph.  ii.  209 1.  36 
*  the  quiet  raigne  of  Numa  Pompilius,  in  whose  gouernment  the  Bees  haue 
made  their  hiues  in  the  soldiers  helmettes.'  'This  simile  is  evidently 
borrowed  from  Alciati's  very  popular  "  Emblems  "  ;  in  which  is  an  engrav 
ing,  representing  bees  swarming  into  the  face-guard  of  an  helmet.  This 


CAMPASPE  551 

is  reproduced  by  Geoffrey  Whitney  in  his  "  Choice  of  Emblemes,"  Leyden, 
1586,  with  the  following  verses  beneath  it : — 

"  The  helmet  strange,  that  did  the  head  defende, 

Beholde,  for  hyve,  the  bees  in  quiet  serv'd : 

And  when  that  warres,  with  bloodie  bloes,  had  ende, 
They,  hony  wroughte,  where  souldiour  was  preserv'd,"  '  &c.  (Fairholt.) 
The  Emblemata  of  Andreas  Alciatus  originally  appeared  at  Milan  1522, 
and  there  had  been  many  eds.,  e.g.  Frankfort  1567,  Lyons  1574,  Antwerp 
1577.     Cf.  '  His  Helmet  now  shall  make  a  hiue  for  Bees,'  vol.  i.  p.  412. 

9.  foote  clothes :  '  housings  of  horses,  such  as  were  worn  in  times  of 
peace,  but  not  adapted  to  purposes  of  war.  Lord  Hastings  in  King 
Richard  III  [iii.  4.  86]  observes  that  his  footcloth  horse  did  stumble.' 
(Note  signed  '  S '  in  Collier,  ed.  of  Dodsley,  1825.) 

P.  348,  1.  gloues  worne  in  veluet  caps :  Reed  (Dodsl.  ed.  1780)  quotes 
a  note  from  Steevens'  Shakespeare,  ix.  467,  to  the  effect  that  a  glove  was 
worn  in  the  hat  (i)  as  the  favour  of  a  mistress,  (2)  as  the  memorial  of  a 
friend,  (3)  as  a  mark  for  the  enemy  to  challenge ;  and  refers  to  Woman 
in  the  Moone,  ii.  I.  155,  where  Pandora  promises  that  he  who  kills  the 
boar  shall  wear  her  glove.  Hense  (Shak.-Jahrbuch,  vol.  vii.  261)  noted 
the  anachronism. 

31.  lay  a  pillowe  imder  his  head :  cf.  Euph.  i.  195  1.  31  '  one  flattereth 
an  other  in  hys  owne  folly,  and  layeth  cushions  vnder  the  elbowe  of  his 
fellowe,'  where  see  note. 

P.  349, 32.  stande  aloof e  .  .  .  lightening'.  Euph.  ii.  120  I.  8  '  my  dealyngs 
about  the  Courte  shall  be  fewe,  for  I  loue  to  stande  aloofe  from  loue  and 
lyghtning.'  This  passage  seems  to  negative  what  would  otherwise  seem 
a  very  probable  emendation  suggested  to  me  by  Mr.  P.  A.  Daniel — '  from 
kinges  loue,  and  loues  lightening.' 

P.  350,  7.  Musitions  . .  .  who  onelye  study,  &c. :  Diog.  Laert.  vi.  2.  §  6 
(65)  iScbv  (i(ppova  \lra\TT)  ptov 

T(a  £v\&>  TrpOlTapp-OTTOV,  TTjV 

14.  Feare  not .  .  .  no  thistles:  Diog.  Laert.  vi.  2.  §  6  (45)  npbs  TO. 
fjifipaKia  .  .  .  etTTOVTa  '  /SXeVw/uej/  /ii?  dany  fjp,as,}  l  tfappetre,  e'cpr),  iratdia'  KV<OV 
TfVT\ia  OVK  effSifi.' 

20.  /  must  needs  beleeue  there  are  gods,  &c. :  Diog.  Laert.  vi.  2.  §  6 
(42)  Atxriou  TOV  (papiJLaKOTr<a\ov  7rvOop.evov  el  Ofovs  vop.i^€i,  l  TTWS  fie,  elrrev,  ov 
yo/Mi^co,  OTTOU  Kai  o~e  6eols  €%0pbi>  vTroXap^dva) ; ' 

P.  351,  36.  prick  song :  properly  written  music,  alluding  to  the  points 
or  dots  of  musical  notation,  and  applied  to  the  nightingale's  song  as  more 
regularly  musical  than  that  of  other  birds  (Nares). 

38.  How  at  heauens  gats  she  claps  her  wings :  Fairholt  and  others 
have  noticed  the  resemblance  to  the  opening  words  of  the  song  in  Cym- 
beline,  ii.  3.  21.  A  different,  but  inferior  and  I  think  later,  version  of  Lyly's 
song  altering  the  fourth  line  and  also  substituting  the  sparrow  for  the 


552  NOTES 

robin  is  given,  with  (  Cupid  and  my  Campaspe '  but  without  source  or 
author  specified,  inThos.  Lyle's  Ancient  Ballads  and  Songs,  1827. 

61.  thou  neededst  not  haue  scraped  rootes,  &c. :  Diog.  Laert.  vi.  2.  §  6 
(58)  (pacriv  on  nXdrav  Qeacrdfjifvo?  avrbv  Xa^ai/a  7r\vvovra  7rpo<reA#a>i/  f)(rvxri 
etrrot  avT<3*  *  ei  &IOVIHTIOV  e$epu7reue?,  OVK  CLV  Aa^ai/a  £TT\VVGS?  TOP  8'  anoKpiva- 
o-dai  6/ioi&)9  f)<rvxr), '  Kai  <ri»  el  Xd^ava  eirXvves,  OVK  av  &IOVWTIOV  efopdneves.' 

P.  352.  SCH^ENA  SECUNDA.— The  same.  Apelles  is  passing  through  the 
market-place  on  his  way  from  the  palace  to  his  house.  In  the  following 
scene  Milectus  and  Phrygius  are  imaginary  characters.  Lais,  like  Diogenes, 
was  properly  of  Corinth  :  but  there  seem  to  have  been  several  courtesans 
of  that  name.  Her  introduction  is  possibly  suggested  by  the  incident  of 
Thais  and  Alexander  at  the  banquet  at  Persepolis  in  Plutarch's  Life,  c.  38. 

2.  for  the  nonce  \  '  for  the  nones,'  Chaucer,  C.  T.  281,  the  older  spell 
ing  being  '  for  then  ones  '  (Skeat). 

12.  pelting',  petty. 

P.  353,  14.  wiredrawers :  taken  as  representing  the  arts  of  peace,  as 
cutlers  (weapon-makers)  the  arts  of  war.  *  Wires '  were  among  the  articles 
of  women's  toilette ;  and  in  the  Revels  Accounts  for  the  Christmas  of 
1582-3  the  '  Wyerdrawers'  percells  *  amount  to  'xiijli.  ijs.  iijd.'  (p.  180). 

21.  prying  ouer  his  tubbe :  which  is  set,  apparently,  upright  on  its 
bottom.  See  note  on  p.  335  1.  63. 

26.  rates  mee  from  :  chides  me  off.      Kentish,  says  Halliwell. 

28.  thou  wouldest  haue  hadde  my  company,  had  it  not  beene  .  .  .  too 
deare :  Lyly  is  transferring  to  Diogenes  the  story  told  by  Aulus  Gellius 
(Noct.  Atticae,  i.  8),  on  the  authority  of  Sotion,  and  repeated  by  Painter 
(Palace  of  Pleasure,  i.  15),  of  Demosthenes  the  orator,  whose  answer  to 
Lais'  demand  of  10,000  drachmae,  was  'Ego  poenitere  tanti  non  emo.' 
See  also  note  on  Euphues,  ii.  13  1.  28. 

36.  let  vs  sing\  the  song  is  lost.     It  would,  perhaps,  have  failed 
to  edify.     But  cf.  the  one  I  print  from  Thos.  Morley  1600,  vol.  iii.  p.  469. 

37.  a  volly  of  shotte  :  the  anachronism  was  noted  by  Reed  (Dodsley 
1780),  but  '  S.'  in  the  next  edition,  1825,  adds  *A  volley  of  shot  means 
only  a  flight  of  arrows.' 

P.  354,  14.  Archidamus  of  his  woodden  Done  .  .  .  Arachne,  &c. :  error 
for  Archytas  of  Tarentum,  whose  flying  wooden  dove,  alluded  to  vol.  iii. 
430  1.  71,  is  recorded,  from  Favorinus,  as  not  incredible  by  Aul.  Cell. 
x.  12.  Arachne,  properly  the  Lydian  girl  (p.  8  I.  5),  is  here  invented 
to  match. 

31.  Macedonians  .  .  .  their  hearbe  Beet,  £c. :  Pliny,  xix.  40  and  xx.  27, 
speaks  of  two  kinds  of  beet,  white  and  black,  and  mentions  that  some 
people  scruple  to  taste  it. 

P.  355,  46.  That  we  haue  little,  and  lose  much :  from  Seneca's  De 
Bremt.  Vitae,  c.  i  *  Non  exiguum  temporis  habemus,  sed  multum  perdimus  ' 
—carelessly  rendered,  as  before,  Euph.  i.  284  1.  36. 


CAMPASPE  553 

52.  Alex.  What,  a  world  f  Diog.  No,  the  length  of  my  body,  so 
Midas,  iii.  i.  12  'What  should  I  doowith  a  world  of  ground,  whose  bodie 
must  be  content  with  seauen  foote  of  earth  ? '  Shakespeare  borrows  it  in 
I  Henry  IV,  v.  4.  89:  — 

'When  that  this  body  did  contain  a  spirit, 
A  kingdom  for  it  was  too  small  a  bound; 
But  now,  two  paces  of  the  vilest  earth 
Is  room  enough.' 

The  sentiment  is  original  in  Philip  of  Macedon,  who  seeing  the  mark  of 
his   body  printed   in   the   sand  of  the  palaestra,  where  he  had  fallen, 
cos  fj,iKpov  pepovs  rrjs  yrjs  cpvfffi.  /nere^oi/res1,  o\rjs  f(piep.fda 
t.  De  Educ.  c.  8).    Lyly  told  the  story  Euph.  i.  314  1.  34. 
78.  platforme :  ground-plan,  picture-scheme.     North's  Plutarch,  ed. 
1656,  p.  456  'drawing  the  Platforme  of  Sicilia  '  (Whitney). 

P.  356,  97.  Me  thinks  I  might  haue  bin  made  priuie  to  your  affection  : 
perhaps  the  one  remark  in  Alexander's  part  which  lends  colour  to  Fleay's 
identification  of  him  with  Elizabeth.  For  the  Queen's  jealousy  of  marriage 
without  her  consent,  see  Loves  Met.  v.  4.  12,  note  on  Galll  p.  454  1.  16, 
and  under  Endimion,  vol.  iii.  pp.  88,  98. 

112.  'unhappily,    mischievously    (Collier    in    Dodsley,    1825).      Cf. 
Lygones'    reproach    of    Spaconia    in    Beau,   and   Flet.   King   and  No 
King,  v.  2  '  Thou  could'st  prate  unhappily,  j  Ere  thou  could'st  go.3 

113.  enforce  mariage :  Alexander  is  alluding  to  her  apparent  coldness 
towards  Apelles. 

P.  357,  127.  fating  wormes :  cf.  Moth.  Bomb.  ii.  2.  15  'the  louing 
worme  my  daughter ' ;  and  Prospero  of  Miranda  in  love  with  Ferdinand, 
Tempest,  \\\.  \.  31  'Poor  worm!  thou  art  infected';  and  Euph.  ii.  182 
1.  3  '  these  louing  wormes.' 

136.  pricking  in  cloutes :  sewing  clothes  or  cloths ;  so  in  M.  Bomb. 
i.  3.  60  '  shee  shall  prick  on  a  clout  till  her  fingers  ake.' 

P.  359,  1.  Raineboive  .  .  .  Caterpillers  :  Pliny,  xvii.  37  speaks  of  rain, 
or  damp  heat,  producing  caterpillars,  which  are  burnt  oft"  the  trees  if  the 
sun  comes  out  strongly  ;  but  in  this  and  the  following  about  the  glow 
worm  Lyly  is  either  reproducing  rustic  superstitions  or  else  inventing. 

9.  Demosthenes  .  .  .  stammering',  the  'breathing  vp  the  hill'  is  not 
among  the  methods  detailed  by  Plutarch  in  his  life  of  Demosthenes,  c.  7 ; 
but  Cicero,  De  Divinat.  46,  says  '  Demosthenem  scribit  Phalereus,  cum 
RHO  dicere  nequiret,  exercitatione  fecisse  ut  planissume  diceret.' 

10.  against  the  haire\    as   of  an   animal   rubbed  the  wrong  way. 
'  Against  the  grain '  is  the  modern  form. 

13.  haue  bin  allowed',  i.  e.  if  after  you  have  patiently  listened  to  the 
end,  we  are  to  suffer  from  subsequent  criticism.  Or  it  may  refer  to 
the  licence  granted  by  the  Master  of  the  Revels. 

P.  360,  1.  Diomedes  birds  or  his  horses',  the  '  Diomedeae  aves'  were 


554  NOTES 

the  companions  of  Diomede  in  his  journey  into  Apulia,  transformed  into 
birds  after,  or,  as  some  say,  before  his  death.  Pliny,  Nat.  Hist.  x.  6l 
*  Nee  Diomedeas  praeteribo  aves :  .  .  .  Uno  hoc  in  loco  totius  orbis 
visuntur,  in  insula,  quam  diximus  nobilem  Diomedis  tumulo  atque  delubro, 
contra  Apuliae  oram,  fulicarum  similes.  Advenas  barbaros  clangore 
infestant,  Graecis  tantum  adulantur,  miro  discrimine,  velut  generi  Diomedis 
hoc  tribuentes.'  The  horses  belonged  to  another  Diomede,  son  of  Mars 
and  king  of  Thrace.  '  Hie  cum  in  Tyria  oppido  equos  suos  peregrinorum 
et  hospitum  carne  aleret,  victus  ab  Hercule,  equis  ipsis  ad  devorandum 
obiectus  est  *  (Forcellini  s.  v.  Diomedes ;  referring  to  Apollodorus,  ii.  5.  8, 
and  Servius  on  Aen.  i.  752).  See  also  Palaephati  de  fab.  Narrat.  ed. 
1578,  fol.  112  b. 

6.  couered  his  face  with  the  winges  of  Swans :  an  imaginary  detail, 
not  found  in  Ovid's  description  of  his  birth,  Met.  bk.  x.  fab.  10,  but  perhaps 
suggested  by  the  line  x.  718,  which  describes  Venus  as  arriving  at  the 
scene  of  his  slaughter  by  the  boar  in  a  chariot  drawn  by  swans. 

17.  those  torches  waxe :  referred  to  also  in  the  Prol.  at  Court,  1.  17. 

19..  elder  for  a  disgrace :  '  because  Judas  is  said  to  have  hung  himself 
on  an  elder-tree1  (Collier's  note  in  Dodsley,  1825). 

SAPHO   AND    PHAO. 

P.  37O.   DRAM.  PERS. 

PHAO,  a  young  Ferryman'.  Bodenstedt  (Shakespeare^  s  Zeitgenossen 
und  ihre  Werke,  Bd.  iii.  44),  in  his  summary  of  the  plot,  wrongly  repre 
sents  Lyly  as  making  Phao  before  he  meets  Venus  old  and  ugly. 
Palaephatus  (De  Fab.  Narrat.  lib.  i)  does  indeed  so  represent  him,  but  in 
the  play  Venus  first  addresses  him  as  '  Prety  youth  ! '  i.  i.  50. 

CALYPHO,  one  of  the  Cyclops',  the  name  Calypho,  not  among  those 
of  the  Cyclopes  given  in  Virgil,  Aen.  viii.  425  '  Brontesque  Steropesque  et 
nudus  membra  Pyracmon,'  is  borrowed  by  Lyly  from  a  comic  character 
(Callipho)  in  Plautus'  Pseudolus. 

P.  371,  2.  the  Beare  .  .  ,  Origanum  to  heale  his  grief e  \  a  reminiscence 
of  Euphues,  i.  208  11.  20-6  '  The  filthy  Sow,'  &c.,  itself  loosely  from  Pliny, 
viii.  4  (note  ad  loc.).  The  bear's  foul  breath  and  its  effect  is  from  Pliny, 
xi.  115,  and  Euph.  ii.  147  1.  32. 

8.  to  breede  .  .  .  soft  smiling,  not  loude  laughing,  &c.  :  noticeable  as 
an  acknowledgement,  made  to  a  popular  audience,  of  a  purpose  sufficiently 
apparent  in  the  plays  themselves,  of  weaning  popular  taste  from  coarse 
farce  and  rough-and-tumble  clownage  to  appreciate  a  more  refined  style 
of  Comedy.  We  may  compare  the  effort  at  tragic  dignity  announced  by 
Marlowe  in  the  Prologue  to  Tamburlaine. 

11.  They  were  banished  the  Theater  at  Athens,  &c. :  probably 
amplified  from  Horace's  brief  account  of  the  suppression  of  the  licence  of 


SAPHO   AND   PHAO  555 

'vetus  comoedia'  at  Athens  (Ars  Poetica,  281  sqq.),  and  the  preceding 
uncomplimentary  reference  to  the  wit  of  Plautus,  1.  270. 

17.  The  Griffyon,  £c. :  no  warrant  for  this  in  Pliny,  vii.  2,  or  x.  70, 
nor  yet  in  Aelian's  ch.  27,  bk.  iv  of  the  De  Natura  Animalium. 

P.  372,  1.  The  Arabyas  .  .  .  burn  Hemblock,  a  ranck  poison :  founded 
on  Pliny,  xii.  38  *  Peregrinos  ipsa  (Arabia)  mire  odores  et  ad  exteros  petit. 
Tanta  mortalibus  suarum  rerum  satietas  est,  alienarumque  aviditas/ 
Cf.  Euph,  i.  194  1.  17  '  burne  hemlocke  to  smoke  the  Bees.' 

6.  Eagle .  .  .  spices .  .  .  'wormwood :  no  authority  for  either  statement. 

8.  the  trueth  .  .  .  the  necessitie,  £c. :  a  confession  that  he  was  alle 
gorizing  facts,  also  implied  in  the  request  that  the  Queen  will  regard  the 
play  as  a  dream,  and  even  more  plainly  in  the  language  of  the  Epilogue. 

9.  needles  point :  the  vagaries  of  old  spelling,  which  often  rendered 
the  privative  suffix  by  -les,  are  responsible  for  the  error  of  Q1  needelesse. 

17.  And  so  you  awakte :  applying  directly  to  Elizabeth  the  expression 
Sapho  actually  uses  of  her  own  dream,  iv.  3.  22. 

P.  373.  SCENE  I.— At  the  Ferry  :  the  ferry  and  the  passage  of  Venus 
is  from  Aelian,  Var.  Hist.  xii.  18.  Lyly,  in  transferring  it  from  Mitylene 
to  Syracuse,  may  have  had  no  thought  of  topography ;  yet  his  mention  of 
a  river,  a  passage  of  some  distance,  the  possibility  of  meeting  rough 
weather,  and,  further,  the  making  Pandion  send  his  boy  '  about  by  land,' 
i.  2.  71,  would  all  correspond  accurately  with  a  ferry  conceived  as  run 
ning  from  somewhere  near  the  mouth  of  the  Anapus  on  the  west  side  of 
the  Great  Harbour  across  to  the  promontory  of  Ortygia,  on  which  the 
oldest  part  of  Syracuse  was  built.  Still,  from  ii.  2.  14,  the  Thames  and 
Greenwich  Park  seem  in  his  mind. 

1.  possessing  for  riches  content,  £c. :  this  opening  soliloquy  of  Phao 
is  reminiscent  of  Euphues'  exhortations  to  Philautus  in  The  Cooling  Carde, 
and  both  of  Guevara's  Menosprecio  del  Corte^  transl.  Sir  F.  Bryan,  1548. 

23.  steeled  hdmers:  hammers  overlaid  or  edged  with  steel.  'Give 
me  my  steeled  coat,'  i  Henry  VI,  i.  i.  85. 

P.  374,  29.  bolts  . .  .  in  steed  of  arrowes :  '  bolts  were  large  and  heavy, 
blunted  at  the  end,  used  only  to  knock  down  or  stun '  (Fairholt).  Hence 
the  pun  below,  '  an  arrow  head,'  opposed  to '  a  broad  head '  or  one  with 
horns.  Cf.  Shakespeare's  use  of  'forked3  for  arrows  A.  Y.  L.  I.  ii.  i.  24, 
and  cuckolds  W.  T.  i.  2.  186. 

33.  if  I  one  repine  :  his  function  in  this  galley,  of  no  classical  authority, 
is  merely  to  flatter  Lyly's  mistress.  Cf.  '  louis  Elizabeth]  Euph.  ii.  216. 

39.  she  hath  her  thoughtes  in  a  string :  i.  e.  bridled,  under  control. 
Cf.  Basse,  Vrania  :  the  Woman  in  the  Moone^  ii.  27  '  But  she,  that  had 
occasion  in  a  string  |  Of  vses  bridled,'  &c. 

41.  arrandes'.  errands.     Cf.  Skeat,  s.  v. 

yerke:  cf.  Pappe,  vol.  iii.  p.  407  1.  14  naughty  children  'ought  to  be 
ierkt.' 


556  NOTES 

P.  375,  1.  Pandion,  since  your  camming  from  the  vniuersitie  to  the 
court,  &c. :  there  is  probability  in  Fleay's  conjecture  that  this  university- 
student  plunged  into  court-life,  and  feeling  painfully  its  insincerity, 
represents  Lyly  himself.  He  is  present  in  ii.  2,  and  has  a  small  part  in 
iii.  i,  but  is  absolutely  unimportant  to  the  action.  His  attitude  is  a  repe 
tition  of  that  of  Euphues  in  some  of  his  letters. 

18.  you  haue  but  tombs :  i.  e.  your  existence  is  that  of  dead  men. 
P.  376,  27.  pinned-,  i.  e.  penned,  in  the  pinfold.    Cf.  the  title  of  Greene's 
play,  The  Pinner  of  Wakefield.     Of  being  on  shipboard  Gall.  i.  4.  20. 

28.  emboste  rouffes  :  *  embossed  roofs,'  with  possible  pun  on 
*  starched  ruffs.' 

34.  any  vse :  any  are  wont. 

39.  the  tree  Sahtrus,  £c. :  a  marvellous  plant,  strangely  overlooked  by 
Pliny  and  Aelian. 

41.  water  boughes'.  i.e.  fruitless;  again  in  Euphues,  ii.  5  1.  33  'a 
water  bough,  no  bud.' 

54.  returne  sir  eight :  i.e.  recover  a  straightforward  mode  of  speech 
and  life.  Still  in  Pandion's  next  reply  means  of  course  'at  peace.' 

P.  377,  4.  Pantopheles:  slippers.  See  note  on  Endimion,  ii.  2.  32 
Pantables. 

6.  Logick  .  .  .  Lerypoope :  originally  the  liripoop  or  liripippe  (liri- 
pipium}  was  a  long  scarf  or  hood  worn  by  clergy  or  by  those  who  took 
a  certain  university  degree.  Then  the  term  was  transferred  to  the  know 
ledge  enabling  them  to  wear  the  hood  ;  and  then  used  more  generally. 
Cotgrave  gives  *  Qui  sgait  bien  son  roulet '  for  '  One  that  knows  his  liri- 
poope.'  In  this  passage,  as  opposed  to  '  Logicke '  it  seems  to  bear  the 
meaning  of  practical  or  intuitive  knowledge,  or  of  common-sense.  And 
something  of  the  same  contrast  is  found  in  Moth.  Bombie,  i.  3.  128, 
where,  after  Livia's  fanciful  catalogue,  Prisius  says  '  Theres  a  girle  that 
knowes  her  lerripoopej  and  Sperantus  replies  '  Listen,  &  you  shall  heare 
my  sons  learning?  So  too  Pappe,  vol.  iii.  p.  407  1.  31 .  Cf.  vol.  i.  p.  483 1.  7. 

9.  at  a  bay  :  at  bay ;  of  game  quite  surrounded  by  the  hounds,  to 
whose  barking  the  phrase  refers. 

11.  a  mouse  ofbeafe  :  portion  between  the  buttock  and  the  loin  :  still 
termed  '  mouse-buttock'  (Fairholt). 

18.  full  of  learning  .  .  .  scarce  know  good  manners :  so  Campaspe, 
i.  3.  8  '  seeing  bookish  men  are  so  blockish,'  &c. ;  and  Bacon's  Ad 
vancement  of  Learning,  I.  iii.  8  'learned  men  ...  do  many  times  fail  to 
observe  decency  and  discretion  in  their  behaviour  and  carriage,'  &c. 

P.  378,  22.  wordlmgs  .  .  .  sicbstaunce :  I  have  retained  the  reading 
of  O1,  which  seems  to  yield  the  better  sense,  that  the  actual  life  of  the 
world  is  to  students  mere  matter  of  wordy  dispute,  not  of  experience.  But 
tubstaunce,  too,  may  bear  a  scholastic  sense. 

25.  Politians :  '  Politien,  this  word  also  is  receiued  from  the  French- 


SAPHO   AND   PHAO  557 

men,  but  at  this  day  vsuall  in  Court .  .  .  and  cannot  finde  an  English  word  to 
match  him  ...  a  man  politique  had  not  bene  so  wel . . .  Politien  is  ...  a  pub- 
lique  minister  or  Counseller  in  the  state.'  Puttenham,  1589,  p.  159  ed.  Arb. 

1.  straung  that  Phao  .  .  .  so  fair e  ?\    clearly  the  ladies  have  just 
landed  from  or  are  passing  near  the  ferry,  to  which  Phao  has  returned, 
dowered  with  his  fatal  gift,  after  carrying  Venus  to  Syracuse.     So  that 
the  four  scenes  of  Act  i  are  continuous. 
P.  379.  14.  puppets  :  dolls. 

23.  to  father  the  cradle,  £c. :  evidently  proverbial,  meaning  either 
4  to  rear  the  child  as  theirs,  on  the  mere  ground  of  likeness  to  the  mother,' 
or  '  to  beget,  leaving  the  mother  to  rear  it.' 

25.  dram  .  .  .  lgiue  me]  £c. :  Lodge's  RosaL  p.  137.  Cf.  Oy.  Am.  i. 
8.  62  '  Crede  mihi,  res  est  ingeniosa  dare,'  quoted  Mid.  i.  i.  83. 

30.  thoughtes  cannot  hang  togeather :  of  inconstancy  Gall.  iv.  2.  37. 

34.  want  matter  .  .  .  courtly  hissings,  when  their  wits  faile  in  courtly 
discourses',  cf.  Rosalind's  advice  to  Orlando,  A.  Y.L.L  iv.  I.  75  'Nay, 
you  were  better  speak  first ;  and  when  you  were  gravelled  for  lack  of 
matter,  you  might  take  occasion  to  kiss.' 

P.  380,  47.  as  though  we,  &c. :  in  a  tone  that  suggests  we  want  to,  &c. 

S.D.  with  a  small  mirror :   suggested  by  line  6,  required  by  line  67. 
P.  381,  44.   Asolis,  &c. :  I  can't  identify  this  plant  in  Pliny,  but  the 
unanimous  spelling  of  the  old  editions  may  be  wrong. 

46.  the  Syrian  mudde,  £c. :  seems  an  invention. 

50.  caught  vp  my  handful  of  sand,  &c. :  Ov.  Met.  xiv.  136.  See 
under  Sources,  p.  366. 

61.  I  thought  all  the  yeere  woulde  haue  beene  May.  Sybilla's  story 
is  but  an  enlargement  of  the  exhortations  of  Euphues  against  pride  of 
beauty,  vol.  i.  203. 

P.  382,  90.  Poly  on  \  Pliny,  xxi.  21  '  polion  herbam,  inclytam  Musaei 
et  Hesiodi  laudibus  .  .  .  prorsusque  miram,  si  modo  (ut  tradunt)  folia  eius 
mane  Candida,  meridie  purpurea,  sole  occidente  coerulea  aspiciuntur.' 
Cf.  the  *  Salamints '  in  Loves  Met.  i.  2.  4. 

91.  Anyta :  Lyly,  as  often,  caps  the  marvel  just  borrowed  from  Pliny 
with  one  invented  by  himself. 

P.  383,  109.  Roses  that  lose  their  colours,  &c. :  cf.  Euph.  i.  203  1.  15 
and  Midas,  ii.  i.  in. 

110.  Cotonea  :  Pliny  has  a  brief  chapter  on  this  plant  'palus,  quam 
Galli  sic  vocant,  Veneti  cotoneam,'  but  only  says  it  is  sweet. 

125.  vnlesse  thou  perish,  thou  shalt  perish  :  no  reason  to  suppose  the 
text  corrupt,  with  Fairholt.  The  repetition  of  a  word  with  slightly 
different  reference  is  one  of  Lyly's  tricks  of  style  ;  and,  as  the  pointing  of 
Ql  shows,  it  is  epexegetic  of  what  immediately  proceeds — unless  he  injures 
himself  by  becoming  a  dissimulator  and  hater,  he  will  suffer  lack  of  love 
and  friendship.  Or  the  first  perish  is  trans.,  as  2  Henry  VI,  iii.  2.  100. 


558  NOTES 

128.  preuent:  anticipate  or  provide  against.  The  prophecy  is 
appropriate  only  to  Alenc.on's  career  at  Court,  and  is  not  fulfilled  in  the  play. 

130.  Antes  that  haue  winges:  in  Campaspe,  iv.  2.  14,  ants  with 
wings  were  used  as  a  proverb  for  ambition.  The  hill  of  a  mowle  means 
any  place  where  there  may  be  concealed  listeners,  with  allusion  to  under 
mining  and  intrigue. 

133.  Buglosse  or  borage  would  improve  the  wine,  sugar  would  spoil 
it.  The  Eclipse  may  be  chosen  as  portending  the  death  of  princes.  The 
conies  and  swallowes  symbolize  parasites  who  share  their  masters' 
secrets  ;  the  wine-vaults  being  supposed  as  dug  in  the  soil.  But  the  *  wise 
woman's '  oracles  need  not  be  explicable  everywhere. 

135.  Sowe  next  thy  vine  Mandrage :    i.  e.  mandragora ;   a  process 
said  to  soften  the  sharpness  of  wine,  Euph.  ii.  224  1.  28  note. 
P.  384.  Exit',  so  all,  rightly,  for  Phao  remains  on  the  stage. 

20.  spurblinde :  apparently  a  variant  of  purblind,  whose  later  sense 
is  ' dim-sighted,'  not  'quite  blind.' 

P.  385,  3.  I  taught  you  that  lesson,  £c. :  see  i.  3.  28. 

5.  browne  bill :  the  watchman's  weapon. 

6.  that,  whereof  they  talke  so  commonly  e  in  courte,  valour,  &c. :  just 
so  in    Campaspe,  v.  3.  9  Lais  speaks  of  'a  new  found  tearme,  called 
valiant,   a  word   which   breedeth  more    quarrelles   then  the  sense  can 
•commendation.'     The  word  was  certainly  not  new  to  the  language ;  and 
the  novelty  must  have   lain   in  its  special  application  to  a  hectoring 
carriage  and  readiness  to  fight  duels. 

10.  pomel  lower  the  the  point :  figurative  of  a  ready  appeal  to  tne 
weapon,  which  would  quit  the  sheath  most  easily  in  this  position. 
lyeth  at  a  good  warde  :  knows  a  strong  posture  of  defence. 
14.  end\  object. 

21.  carbonado  :  a  steak,  or  slashed  slice  of  meat  roasted  on  the  coals. 
P.  386,  34.  Gadfly :  with  pun  on  *  gadding '  about. 

44.  /  seeke  no  such  :  because  in  search  of  Venus,  whose  honesty  he 
doubts. 

P.  387,  62.  from  a  place :  a  logical  term,  meaning  ' I  will  ground  my 
argument  on  a  commonplace,  or  pro  verb,  or  well-known  passage.'  Cf.  Euph. 
i.  299  1.  21  'in  schooles  .  .  .  one  beeing  vrged  with  a  place  in  Aristotle.' 

80.  a  good  Colaphum  :  Lat.  colaphus  (/cdXa(£oy),  a  blow,  or  box  on  the 
ear;  used  for  the  annomination  with  Calypho,  and  as  unintelligible 
to  him. 

P.  388,  108.  gangi  Skeat's  Concise  Diet,  of  ME.  gives  gangen,  to  go. 

rore :  so  in  the  boys'  song  at  the  end  of  Gallathea,  i.  4  '  Milke  some 
blinde  Tauerne,  and  there  roare,'  of  riotous  hectoring  conduct. 

109.  vamp\  ME.  uaumpe  (as  subst.),  the  fore-part  or  upper  leather  of 
a  boot  or  shoe  ;  hence  the  verb  to  vamp,  to  patch  up  (Skeat) ;  so  that  the 
word  is  used  of  additions  to  the  score. 


SAPHO   AND   PHAO  559 

1.  vnacquainted'.  unknown,  unheard  of;  Endim.  v.  3.  62  'this 
vnacquainted  and  most  vnnaturall  practise/  . 

13.  Sycilyan  stone  .  .  .  hammeringe  \  so  Euph.  i.  204  1. 17  'the  stone 
of  Sicilia,'  &c.  (note). 

P.  389,  21.  bates  in  thy  hart:  as  signifying  poetry  and  passion. 

23.  a  sparoiv  in  thepalme :  i.  e.  keep  thy  desire  hidden.  The  '  doue,' 
from  which  the  sparrow  is  distinguished,  is  also  Venus'  bird. 

55.  Loue,faire  child,  is  to  be  gouernedby  arte\  with  these  excellent 
maxims  of  Sybilla  compare  those  of  Psellus  to  Philautus.  in  Eiiph. 
ii.  118-9,  anc^  Euphues'  own  exhortations,  i.  255. 

P.  390,  61.  worme,  that  feedeth  first  vpon  fenell :  Pliny,  xx.  95,  says 
that  serpents  when  they  have  cast  their  skin  sharpen  their  sight  by 
tasting  fennel  (foeniculuin).  Cf.  Bee  poem,  st.  10,  vol.  iii.  p.  496. 

80.  Grapes  are  minde  glasses'.  Aesch.  Frag.  393  Karorrrpov  e'idovs 
XCI\KOS  f err',  olvos  Se  vov.  So  Euph.  ii.  83  1.  7  '  Wine  is  the  glasse  of  the 
minde'  (note),  also  i.  279  1.  14. 

85.  Write,  &c. :  so  Psellus  in  Euph.  ii.  119  1.  13  'there  is  nothing 
that  more  pearceth  the  heart  of  a  beautifull  Ladye,  then  writinge,'  &c. 

P.  391,  97.  straungers  haue greene rushes',  so  Euph.  ii.  161  1.  16  (note). 
Fairholt  says  that  the  favourite  plant  for  strewing  in  chambers  was  the 
flowering  rush  (Butomus  umbellatus],  which  emits  a  sweet  smell  when 
crushed. 

104.  sooth',  give  flattering  assent  to  all  she  says.  Euph.  i.  262  1.  15 
'  what  my  mother  sayth  my  father  sootheth.' 

108.  Camokes'.  a  camock  was  a  crooked  staffer  crook  (LL.  cambuca, 
ME.  kambok],  but  also  a  plant  whose  natural  curve  or  twist  might  be 
improved  for  that  purpose.  In  Endimion,  iii.  i.  36  is  quoted  the 
proverb  'Timely  crookes  that  tree  that  will  be  a  camock.'  The  word 
occurs  also  M.  Bombie,  i.  3.  108,  and  Euph.  ii.  169  L  23  '  serching  for 
a  wande,  I  gather  a  camocke.' 

110.  fire  to  be  quenched  with  ditst,  not  with  sivordes'.  among  the 
precepts  quoted  from  Pythagoras  in  Plutarch's  De  Educat.  c.  17  is  rrvp 
triS^po)  /if)  <TKa\fv€iv,  which  Lyly  misrenders  in  his  Euphues  and  his 
Ephoebus,  vol.  i.  281  1.  18.  Again  Midas,  v.  3.  18. 

If  thou  haue  a  ryuall,  be  pacient'.  from  Ov.  Art.  Am.  ii.  539 
'  Rivalem  patienter  habe  :  victoria  tecum  |  Stabit.'  Lyly  quotes  the  line 
Loves  Met.  vol.  iii.  pp.  302-3. 

P.  392,  13.  a  male  content :  pun  on  '  malcontent,'  often  spelt  with  the 
e  and  generally  with  political  reference.  Trachinus'  '  a  male  and  Female 
content,'  1.  15,  probably  means  'a  couple  in  love.' 

22.  sowne:  swoon. 

27.  holde  our  peace :  Pandion  must  be  supposed  to  have  guessed 
Sapho's  passion  from  her  bearing  in  ii.  2,  and  to  be  rather  big  with  his 
secret.  See  end  of  scene. 


560  NOTES 

P.  393,  34.  laid  among  the  Micanyans,  &c. :  Pliny,  xi.  47,  dealing 
with  hair,  says  '  quippe  Myconii  carentes  eo  gignuntur,'  i.  e.  the  inhabi 
tants  of  the  island  of  Myconos  in  the  Aegean.  Repeated  from  Euphues, 
ii.  139  1.  4. 

38.  Seres'  ivooll:  so  Endim.  i.  3.  53  'not  Silkes,  nor  Tyssues,  nor 
the  fine  wooll  of  Seres,'  where  see  note. 

SCENE  II. — A  Street*,  the  scenes  of  this,  as  of  the  two  preceding 
Acts,  are  meant  as  continuous  ;  and  in  the  absence  of  movable  scenery 
we  need  not  be  surprised  at  the  intrusion  of  a  comic  scene  in  a  place  unfit 
for  it.  But  we  can  hardly  admit  Calypho  to  Sapho's  chamber. 

3.  scamble :  shift,  scramble,  as  in  iv.  3.  6. 

8.  venter  non  habet  aures :  i.  e.  hunger  will  listen  to  no  pleadings. 
Assigned  to  Plutarch — Faarrjp  OVK  e^ci  o>ra — in  an  Epitome  of  Erasmus' 
Adagia,  1593,  p.  345. 

thy  backe  is  thy  God:  alluding  to  his  gay  clothes.  Cf.  Diogenes' 
rebuke  of  the  Athenians  as  '  back  Gods  in  the  morning  with  pride,  in  the 
euening  belly  Gods  with  gluttonie,'  Campaspe,  iv.  I.  31. 

11.  Nemo  videt  manticce,  &c. :  quoted  in  A  Shorte  Introd.  of  Latin 
Grammar,  sig.  H  viii  recto,  from  Catullus  [xxii.  21]  ' Sed  non  videmus, 
manticae  quod  in  tergo  est' ;  mantica  being  a  bag,  scrip,  or  satchel. 
The  proverb  means  that  we  do  not  see  ourselves  as  others  see  us,  and 
alludes  to  a  fable  of  Aesop  to  the  effect  that  a  man  carries  other  people's 
faults  in  a  bag  in  front,  and  his  own  in  a  bag  slung  behind. 

20.  this  Lent\  the  play  was  produced  on  Shrove  Tuesday. 
P.  394,  26.    the  old  verse,   Caseus  est  nequam :    Erasmus,  Adagia, 
p.  574,  ed.  1574,  quotes  et  rvpov  a^ov,  OVK  av  e'Seo/i^v  o\^ou  as  a  proverb  for 
one  '  minimis  contentus ';  a  proverb  to  which,  however,  he  himself  demurs. 

30.  si  Ike  throat  can  swallow  no  packthread',  the  same  proverb  for 
a  dainty  appetite,  or  fastidiousness  in  general,  occurs  in  Euphues,  ii.  227 
1.  2  about  household  '  Maydens.' 

36.  Since  my  being  here  :  i.  e.  since  his  last  entry,  the  occasion  of  his 
logical  encounter  with  Molus,  ii.  3. 

44.  sentence :  opinion,  with  pun  on  grammatical  '  sentence.' 

56.  halt  by  the  Gods :  the  sudden  halt  in  his  former  speech  was  to 
prepare  the  pun  on  Vulcan's  lameness. 

P.  395,  61.  I  must  goe  by  too',  'go  by'  is  still  used  locally  (Somerset) 
for  '  begone !  ' :  goe  buy  has  been  suggested  to  me,  of  catering. 

72.  a  drunken  Butter-box \  'satirical  term  for  a  Dutchman,  all  of 
whom  were  popularly  believed  to  be  great  drinkers,  and  inordinately  fond 
of  butter '  (Fairholt).  Among  the  '  Characters,3  added  to  Sir  Thos.  Over- 
bury's  A  Wife,  &c.  in  ed.  1614,  is  'A  Drunken  Dutchman'  who  'stinkes 
of  butter.' 

80.  Rampes :  jades,  romps.  Whitney  quotes  Middleton  and  Dekker's 
Roaring  Girl,  iii.  3  '  The  bouncing  ramp,  that  roaring  girl  my  mistress.' 


SAPHO   AND   PHAO  561 

88.  to  thefearefull  barre  :  a  pun  on  fighting  at  the  barriers.  This  is 
probably  the  best  of  Lyly's  drinking-songs. 

P.  396.  SCENE  III.— SAPHO'S  Chamber-,  i.e.  the  curtains  covering  the 
central  structure  are  drawn  back,  discovering  Sapho  in  bed. 

4.  it :  i.  e.  the  fever. 

12.  Mithrydate :  an  electuary  of  various  ingredients,  considered  an 
antidote  against  poison,  and  named  after  the  poison-proof  king  of  Pontus. 
Sapho's  reply  shows  its  general  use  also  as  =  remedy.  Often  in  Euph. 

20.  some  local  things,  &c.  :  i.  e.  for  local  application  ('  local '  reme 
dies  contrasted  with  purgatives  in  William  Clowes'  Treatise  of  the  Struma, 
1602,  p.  42) ;  also  with  covert  allusion  to  the  Syracusan  ferryman.    Dry 
my  brain,  check  the  flow  of  imagination. 

P.  397,  37.  fish  called  Garus,  &c. :  Pliny,  xxxi.  43  mentions  a  fish 
called  '  garos '  by  the  Greeks,  but  without  this  remarkable  property. 

43.  hearbe  called  Lunary,  &c. :  moonwort.  Another  superstition 
about  it  is  recorded  in  Euph.  ii.  172  1.  18  ;  and  Endimion,  ii.  3.  10, 
chooses  a  lunary  bank  on  which  to  go  to  sleep. 

P.  398,  80.  auoide  it:  quit  it.  'Avoid  the  gallery,'  Henry  VIII,  v.  I ; 
and  Hamlet  to  the  Players,  iii.  2.  15,  'pray  you,  avoid  it.' 

88.  Thy  Tortoys  .  .  .  thy  Cockleshels  :  cf.  M.  Bomb.  i.  3.  123  '  among 
fishes,  the  cockle  &  the  Tortuse,  because  of  Venus,'  where  Tortitse 
=  turtle.  Perhaps  grounded  on  something  in  Pliny,  but  see  Eitphues, 
ii.  98  1.  21  'Venus  with  a  Torteyse  vnder  hir  foote  '  (note). 

101.  waspes  .  .  .feeding  on  serpents,  &c. :  Pliny,  xi.  116  'Vespae 
serpente  avide  vescuntur,  quo  alimento  mortiferos  ictus  faciunt.' 

103.  Into  the  neast  of  an  Alcyon,  &c. :  Pliny,  x.  47  speaks  of  the  very 
narrow  mouth  of  the  halcyon's  or  kingfisher's  nest,  which  is  really  a  hole 
in  the  ground. 

P.  399.  w/fcz7<?ISMENA  retires']  she  cannot  be  supposed  to  hear  Sapho's 
song,  yet  her  last  words  imply  that  she  will  remain  to  watch,  and  she  is 
certainly  in  the  inner  chamber  on  Phao's  arrival,  1.  37  of  the  next  scene. 

P.  400,  144.  when  you  Phao  call  \  The  Bed,  &c. :  inversion  for 
'  despairingly  call  the  bed  Phao.'  Sapho  wishes  Cupid  such  bitterness  as 
she  herself  tastes  in  vain  imaginations.  Cf.  Tottell's  Miscell.  p.  236,  ed. 
Arber,  'And  telles  her  pelow  al  the  tale 

How  thou  hast  doon  her  wo  and  bale.' 

11.  You  women  haue  an  excuse,  &c. :  euphuism  for  'Women  must, 
I  suppose,  be  excused  when  they  presume  upon  their  sex.' 

21.  miscdster:  old  form  of  'misconstrue.'     So  conster  in  M.  Bomb. 

i.  3-  139- 

23.  peeuishnes :  generally  =  '  folly '  in  Elizabethan  literature,  but  may 
have  something  of  its  modern  sense  here. 
P.  4O1,  50.  a  drinesse  in  your  braines,  &c. :  feverishness,  associated 

BOND  II  O  O 


562  NOTES 

with  sleeplessness  in  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy,  i.  §  2.  Mem.  2. 
Subsec.  7  '  But,  as  I  have  said,  waking  overmuch  is  both  a  symptom,  and 
an  ordinary  cause  [of  Melancholy].  It  causeth  dryness  of  the  brain, 
frenzy,  dotage  ...  as  Lemnius  hath  it.'  In  the  last  scene  Sapho  desired 
some  '  local  things  to  dry  my  brain ' ;  but  we  need  not  press  the  incon 
sistency,  where  the  faculty,  as  reported  by  Burton,  is  not  at  one. 

57.  Medcea  .  . .  Dragon  :  Hyg.  Fab.  22. 

snorte  :  snore.  '  Awake  the  snorting  citizens  with  the  bell,'  Oth.  i.  I.  90. 
P.  402,  68-71.    sigh  .  .  .  sight:  I   did  wrong  to  correct  sight  of  Q1, 
a  recognized  variant  in  MSS.,  and  cf.  Eng.  Helicon,  p.  217,  ed.  Bullen. 

P.  403.  ACT  IV,  SCENE  I.— The  same:  evidently  Acts  iii  and  iv  are 
continuous,  since  the  stage-direction  'Phao  exit'  at  the  end  of  the  last 
scene  leaves  Venus  and  Cupid  on  the  stage.  So  Acts  iv  and  v. 

1.  thy  complaintes :  those  she  offered  in  iii.  3.  83  sqq. 

5.  bad  me  draw  .  .  .  to  y*  head:  in  i.  i.  48. 

P.  404,  10.  with  lettice :  probably  suggested  by  Aelian's  report  that 
Phao  had  been  concealed  by  Venus  among  lettuces.  Pliny  mentions 
one  kind  as  an  ^^/aphrodisiac  xix.  38. 

14.  Turkie  :  turquoise,  as  Camp.  i.  I.  12.  Its  paling  foretold  danger 
to  the  wearer :  cf.  Swan's  Speculum  Mundi — 

*  The  sympathising  turcois  true  doth  tell, 
By  turning  pale,  its  owner  is  not  well.'— (Fairholt.) 

20.  crowes  foote  .  .  .  the  blacke  oxe,  &c. :  of  old  age,  as  Euph.  i.  203 
11.  6-7  notes,  Loves  Met.  iv.  i.  135;  and  the  ' black  oxe3  of  weariness, 
Lodge's  Rosalynde,  p.  41  (Sh.  Libr.). 

23.  /  entreate  .  .  .  command,  &c. :  cf.  Rich.  ///,  iv.  4.  345  (wooing 
Eliz.)  '  Say  that  the  king,  which  may  command,  entreats ' ;  Tw.  Nt.  ii.  5. 
125  (Maria's  letter)  'I  may  command  where  I  adore.3 

P.  405,  3.  a  Stockdoue  or  woodquist :  Whitney  distinguishes  them  as 
the  'wild  pigeon'  (columba  aenas)  and  the  'wood  pigeon3  (columba 
pahimbus).  In  this  dream  of  Sapho3s,  which  is  of  course  allegorical,  the 
lofty  cedar  represents  Elizabeth  herself,  the  ants  those  who  would  enrich 
themselves  at  her  expense,  and  the  caterpillars  probably  the  Jesuits  and 
seminary  priests  with  designs  against  Elizabeth's  government,  a  pro 
clamation  against  whom  was  issued  in  June,  1580.  In  the  stock-dove 
who  strove  to  build  his  nest  in  the  cedar,  who  fell  from  the  bough,  but 
whose  quills  began  to  bud  again,  I  think  we  are  to  recognize  not  Alen$on, 
who  is  represented  by  Phao,  but  Leicester,  his  favour  with  the  Queen,  his 
disgrace  in  1579-1580,  and  his  reviving  credit  with  her,  which  was  no 
doubt  one  of  the  reasons  for  her  recent  rejection  of  Alengon.  Notice  that 
the  dream  is  not  introduced  till  after  the  new  scheme,  which  is  to  divert 
Sapho's  affections  from  Phao,  has  been  set  in  motion.  Compare  the 
allegorical  dream  of  Endimion  (v.  i.  pp.  66-7).  The  other  dreams,  all 
interpreted  in  the  text,  need  not  be  related  to  facts. 


SAPHO   AND   PHAO  563 

6.  scambling :  scrambling,  as  in  iii.  2.  3. 

17.  qitils:  feathers,  as  in  Gallathea,  i.  I.  31. 

P.  406,  28.  all  in  a  gore  bloud\  cf.  Rom.  andjul.  iii.  2.  56  '  all  in  gore 
blood/  and  N.  Morton's  New  England's  Memorial,  p.  175  (quoted  by 
Whitney)  '  They  will  be  all  on  a  gore  of  blood.' 

35.  as  blind  as  a  Harpar  :  the  conventional  or  traditional  idea  of  the 
harper  as  blind  is  seen  in  the  proverbial  expression  *  Have  among  ye, 
blind  harpers  ! '  Dyce  in  an  addendum  to  his  notes  on  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher's  The  Mad  Lover,  i.  2,  says  '  In  Cotton's  Virgil  Travestie,  B.  i,  we 
find  "  Quoth  he,  blind  harpers,  have  among  ye  ! "  and  a  short  poem  by 
Martine  Parker,  printed  1641,  is  entitled  "  The  Poet's  Blind  Man's  bough, 
or  Have  among  you,  my  blind  Harpers."  ' 

46.  preferring :  promoting. 

59.  to  my  sell  gold\  to  mysell,  or  mizzle,  ME.  miselen,  is  to  rain  in 
very  fine  drops.  *  Now  gynnes  to  mizzle,  hye  we  homeward  fast,'  SJiep- 
heardes  Kalender,  November.  Fairholt  blindly  follows  Blount's  corruption 
myselfe.  Canope's  dream  is  reminiscent  of  Danae  and  Jupiter. 

P.  407,  68.  the  flye  Tarantula  .  .  .  musicke'.  Hoby's  Courtyer,  1561, 
p.  36  (Tudor  Transl.)  '  in  Pulia  of  them  that  are  bitten  with  a  Tarrantula, 
about  whom  men  occupye  manye  instrumentes  of  musicke,'  &c.  Cf.  Rosa- 
lynde,  p.  134.  Not  among  the  remedies  in  Pliny  xxix.  27. 

77.  strawes  will  stirre,  &c. :  one  of  the  many  passages  which  prove 
Lyly's  practical  knowledge  of  music. 

80.  into  the  water,  when  the  sunne  shined :  to  prevent  its  being  ignited. 
We  had  *  Abeston '  for  Gk.  oa/3eoro?,  Euph.  i.  191  1.  32.  Lyly's  authority 
for  it  is  Bartholomaeus  Anglicus,  xvi.  12  rather  than  Pliny. 

94.  whether  the  birde  hath  feathers,  &c.  :  referring  to  her  own  dream 
as  recounted  at  the  beginning  of  the  scene.     We  have  had  allusions  to 
winged  ants  in  ii.  i.  130,  and  Campaspe,  iv.  2.  14  to  express  ambition. 
P.  408,  12.  to  any  purpose,!  shall',  i.e.  for  which  I  shall. 

18.  a  Bees  stinge . . .  honnye :  a  perversion  of  Pliny's  statement,  xi.  19, 
that  bees  who  lose  their  sting  become  drones  and  make  no  honey. 

30.  Come  Cyclops :  to  Calypho  within  the  forge. 

P.  409,  34.  Lemnion :  the  reference  to  Lemnos  in  the  Aegean, 
Vulcan's  favourite  residence  among  the  Sintians  (//.  i.  593),  is  inappro 
priately  conjoined  with  the  Sicilian  Cyclops. 

45.  busse :  as  part  of  the  ritual  of  the  dance. 
53.  Fletcher :  arrow-maker  (Yr.fleche). 

P.  410.  ACT  V,  SCENE  I. —  The  same',  from  Venus'  words  at  the  end  of 
it,  however,  it  would  seem  that  the  dialogue  is  supposed  to  occupy  their 
progress  towards  the  palace. 

4.  Aegitus . .  .forfeare  oj  his  hen  :  i.  e.  lest  she  should  be  false  to  him  : 
suggested  by  the  thought  of  herself  and  Vulcan,  for  Pliny,  x.  9  ssay  the 
aegithus,  a  kind  of  hawk,  is  lame  of  one  leg. 

002 


564  NOTES 

5.  stone  Perillus,  £c. :  Lyly's  invention,  like  the  detail  about  Lydian 
steel  below. 

15.  wise  in  conueiaunce  :  i.  e.  in  device,  artifice,  clever  management : 
'  Since  Henry's  death  I  fear  there  is  conveyance,'  I  Henry  VI,  i.  3 
(Whitney). 

17.  the  very  loose  :  the  act  of  loosing  it. 

21.  brittle  Chrysocoll :  Pliny,  xxxiii.  26  speaks  of  chrysocolla  as  a 
liquid  flowing  through  the  veins  of  gold,  which  becomes  indurated  by  the 
winter's  cold,  and  attains  the  hardness  of  pumice. 

22.  white',  mark. 

P.  411.  ACT  V,  SCENE  II.— A  room  in  SAPHO'S  Palace  :  distinguished 
from  Sapho's  chamber  by  the  closing  words  of  the  scene, '  shut  the  doore.' 
P.  412,  18.  arrow  .  .  .  cause  him  to  loth,  &c.  :  that,  namely,  described 
in  the  last  scene  as  winged  with  raven's  feathers. 

22.  knackes  :  trifles,  knick-knacks. 

P.  413,  58.  to  shoote  in  :  the  phrase  suggests  the  elaborate  and  clumsy 
contrivance  of  the  cross-bow. 
76.  geare  :  matter,  affair. 

79.  cast  your  eyes  on  your  feet  e,  &c. :  '  An  allusion  to  the  popular  fable 
which  states  that  the  peacock  was  checked  in  its  overweening  pride  by 
looking  on  its  ugly  feet '  (Fairholt). 

84./eare:  frighten. 

P.  414,  8.  dispence  with  subtiltie :  grant  dispensation  to  it,  tolerate, 
use  it.  The  pessimism  is  quite  general. 

9.  carelesse  to  reuenge  them :  i.  e.  she  will  not  trouble  to  revenge  those 
committed  by  others. 

11.  afancie  :  i.  e.  a  love-sonnet  (Fairholt). 

P.  415,  23.  destinie  calleth  thee  aswell  from  Sycily,  £c. :  the  Due 
d'Alengon,  when  he  finally  quitted  England,  Feb.  1582,  repaired  to  the 
Netherlands,  whose  sovereignty  he  had  formally  accepted  on  the  offer  of 
the  Prince  of  Orange,  Jan.  23,  1581.  On  his  arrival  in  Holland  he  was 
installed  as  Duke  of  Brabant,  and  received  the  oath  of  allegiance  from  the 
States  (Froude's  History,  xi.  454). 

GALLATHEA. 

P.  430.  DRAM.  PERS.  :  RAFFE,  ROBIN,  DICKE,  .  .  .  sons  of  a  Miller: 
see  v.  I.  35-6,  68  note,  73-4.  Chaucer's  Miller  is  called  Robin,  A.  3129. 

25.  H^EBE,  a  young  woman  :  her  father,  mentioned  v.  2.  61,  is  not 
introduced. 

P.  431,  2.  PROLOGUE.  Homer  was  borne  in  the  one,  and  buried 
in  the  other  :  i.  e.  born  at  Smyrna,  and  buried  at  los,  a  small  island  in  the 
Cyclades,  the  sole  claimant  for  his  grave.  Pliny,  iv.  23  '  los  a  Naxo 
viginti  quatuor  mill.  pass.  Homeri  sepulchro  veneranda.' 


GALLATHEA  565 

8.  Augustus  .  .  .  pearcing  eyes  .  .  .  ivincke :  Suet,  de  Caesar,  ii.  79 
'  Oculos  habuit  claros  ac  nitidos  :  quibus  etiam  existimari  volebat  inesse 
quiddam  divini  vigoris  :  gaudebatque,  si  sibi  quis  acrius  contuenti,  quasi 
ad  fulgorem  solis,  vultum  submitteret.'  Alluded  to  Euphues  and  his 
England,  p.  77  1.  12. 

11.  Lawne  .  .  .  without  spotte  or  wrinkle',  the  reference  must  be  to 
the  care  taken  in  weaving  the  peplus  for  the  statue  of  Athene  Polias.  It 
was  wrought  by  four  little  girls  between  the  ages  of  seven  and  eleven, 
chosen  by  the  king  archon  from  noble  families  and  secluded  for  a  year  ; 
and  it  was  carried  in  solemn  procession  to  the  goddess'  temple  on  the  last 
day  of  the  Panathenaea. 

14.  where  Gold  groweth,  nothing  will  prosper,  &c.  :  probably  Lyly  is 
thinking  of  Pliny,  xxxiii.  21  '  Cetero  montes  Hispaniae  aridi  sterilesque, 
et  in  quibus  [nihil  ?  ]  aliud  gignatur,  huic  bono  [sc.  auro]  coguntur  fertiles 
esse.'  So  Euphues,  ii.  181  1.  25,  and  Midas,  i.  I.  64  '  golde  .  .  .  bred  in  the 
barrennest  ground.' 

P.  432,  1.  playne :  open  fields.     Cf.  Euph.  \,  277  1.  32. 

13.    pyble  :  pebble.    Woman,  v.  1. 101  'a  pible  stone' ;  Cor.  v.  3.  58. 

19.  successe  :  issue,  as  in  Endim.  iii.  4.  182  '  tell  her  the  successe.' 

19-20.  Fortune,  constant . . .  inconstancie  :  words  borrowed  in  Lodge's 
Rosalynde,  p.  58  (Sh.  Libr.).  For  change  her  copie  cf.  Euph.  i.  224  1.  31, 
236!.  18. 

21.  Danes',  they  entered  England  by  way  of  the  Humber  in  867, 
1013,  1066,  1069  A.  D.  Lyly  jumbles  mythology  and  history  with  an  in 
difference  which  reaches  its  height  in  Venus'  proposition  to  change  the 
sex  of  one  of  the  girls  at  '  the  Church-dore,'  v.  3.  171. 

P.  433,  25.  the  God  who  bindes  the  windes  in  the  hollowes  of  the  earth  : 
Lyly  cannot  resist  the  reminiscence  of  A  en.  i.  52-4,  though  Aeolus  has  no 
place  in  his  story. 

31.  quils:  again,  Saph.  and  Ph.  iv.  3.  17.  A  'quyller'  in  End.  v.  2. 
22  is  an  unfledged  bird. 

42.  at  euery  fiue  yeeres  day  :  locally  the  Humber  bore  is  said  to  be 
highest  every  nine  years.  I  can  hear  of  no  period  for  that  on  the  Wye. 

48.  a  Monster  called  the  Agar,  &c. :  allegorizing  the  tidal  wave  or 
eagre  (AS.  edgor)  on  the  Humber  estuary.  '  But  like  an  eagre  rode  in 
triumph  o'er  the  tide,3  Dryden,  Thren.  August,  p.  135  (Skeat). 

64.  preuent  .  .  .  thy  constellation  :  hinder  the  fate  the  stars  have 
allotted  thee.  Chaucer,  Wyfs  Prol  616  '  By  vertu  of  my  constellacioun.' 
P.  434,  83.  the  causes  of  change',  referring  to  Gallathea's  discussion  of 
motives  for  life  and  death  ;  but  perhaps  Lyly  wrote  '  this  change,'  referring 
to  her  disguise.  '  Too  too  fortunate '  must  in  either  case  refer  to  her 
beauty,  which  has  rendered  the  speculation,  or  the  disguise,  necessary. 

NIMPH  OF  DIANA  :  her  name  need  not  be  specified.  In  iii.  i.  83,  85 
*  Seruia  '  and  '  Clymene '  are  mentioned,  besides  those  actually  present. 


566  NOTES 

P.  435,  32.  Nimphes . . .  wounded  with  their  owne  eyes :  i.  e.  with  those 
of  Gallathea  and  Phillida,  girls  like  themselves.  Lyly  intends  no  marked 
distinction  between  Diana's  nymphs  and  the  daughters  of  the  district :  the 
nymphs  fall  in  love  with  the  two  girls,  who  are  rendered  mutually  jealous, 
iii.  2.  45  sqq.  Moreover  the  nymphs  share  in  Neptune's  displeasure  at 
being  defrauded  in  the  matter  of  the  tribute  :  his  language  in  v.  3.  15-7  and 
68-9,  practically  includes  them  as  liable  to  it,  and  Diana,  the  protectress 
of  all  virgins,  surrenders  Cupid  to  procure  its  remission. 

P.  436,  2.  a  wracke :  probably  we  are  intended  to  understand  this  ship 
wreck  of  the  Mariner  and  three  lads  as  an  effect  of  Neptune's  displeasure, 
and  the  single  attempt  of  Lyly,  before  their  entry  at  the  end  v.  3.  175,  to 
give  his  comic  matter  some  connexion  with  the  plot. 

6,  7.  raughter:  i.e.  'rafter'  or  'raft,'  the  latter  being  a  collection 
of  spars  or  rafters. 

9.  our  Master:  the  ship's  captain. 

10.  wetshod .  .  .  buble  :  keeping  up  the  litotes  of  Raffe's  first  speech. 
P.  437,  19.  powdred'.  salted,  as  in  the  phrase  'powdred  beef.' 

20.  pinde :  pinned,  pent,  enclosed,  as  in  Saph.  i.  2.  27. 

31.  one  Carde  .  .  .  a  whole  payre:  the  'one  Garde'  is  'the  shipman's 
card'  of  Macbeth^  i.  3.  17,  with  the  'quarters'  marked  upon  it.  Payre, 
WrfL.peire  or  peyre,  is  properly  a  set  of  like  things  (cf.  '  par,' '  peer '),  here 
•&pack  of  cards.  P.  Plowman  B.  xv.  119  '  a  peyre  bedes,'  a  set  of  beads. 
The  term  survives  in  '  a  pair  of  stairs/  i.  e.  flight  (Skeat).  Mid.  v.  2.  79  note. 

41.  not  two  good  points  :  punning  on  their  disordered  dress,  a  '  point ' 
being  a  lace  with  metal  tag  used  for  fastening  dress  before  buttons  were 
introduced.  Cf.  ii.  3.  40,  and  Maydes  Met.  iii.  2.  70. 

49.  clowte  :  rag,  here  of  the  sails  with  their  different  names. 
P.  438,  70.     the  woods .  .  .  be  made  shippes  :  see  under  Date,  p.  425. 

88.  Milke,  &c. :  figuratively  for  drain,  exhaust,  with  a  suggestion  of 
not  paying. 

blinde,  obscure:  Holland's  Suetonius^  237  (1606)  'search  everie 
blind  corner.' 

roare  in  the  usual  sense  of  swaggering,  bullying. 

P.  439,  90.  well  Man'd:  as  a  ship,  but  also  with  a  reference  to  the 
relation  between  master  and  servant.  Cf.  2  Henry  IV,  i.  2.  60  '  manned, 
horsed,  and  wived.' 

97.  One  Hempen  Caper  cuts  a  feather-,  'to  cut  a  feather '  =  (a) 
to  split  hairs,  (b)  nautical.  '  If  the  Bow  be  too  broad,  she  will  seldom  cut 
a  feather,  that  is,  to  make  a  fome  before  her,'  Capt.  Smith,  Seaman's 
Gram.  ii.  10  (1627).  Caper  is  a  Dutch  name  for  a  privateer.  The  line 
means,  '  One  dance  at  the  rope's  end  shall  divide  the  indivisible,  our 
friendship,'  with  punning  maintenance  of  the  nautical  idea. 

P.  440,  24.  a  legge :  masculine  obeisance,  made  by  drawing  one  leg 
backwards  (frequent). 


GALLATHEA  567 

27.  no  seconde  thing :  no  inferior  thing. 

32.  spill :  destroy,  mar  ;  but  Skeat  denies  the  etymological  connexion 
with  '  spoil.'  Hamlet,  iv.  5.  20  '  It  spills  itself  in  fearing  to  be  spilt.' 

39.  blancht  him  :  variant  of  blench,  a  term  of  venery  meaning  to 
cause  to  swerve  or  turn,  to  head  back.  Cf.  F.  E.  Hist,  of  Edw.  II.  117 
(1627)  '  He  would  not  blaunch  the  Deer,  the  Toyl  so  near  '  (N.  E.  D.).  In 
Midas,  iv.  3  Lyly  makes  fun  of  the  refinements  of  sporting  phraseology. 

56.  tuske\  'root  about  in,'  'beat,'  here  by  cries  (cf.  'good  mouthes,' 
below)  ;  properly  of  a  boar  rooting  up  the  ground  with  his  tusk ;  but  the 
lexx.  do  not  give  it. 

P.  441,  60.  hallow  :  halloo,  force  forth  by  cries  (Fairholt). 

13.  and  then  Ladies,  &c. :  for  this  direct  address  of  the  audience 
compare  iv.  2.  74,  also  Gunophilus'  in  The  Woman  in  the  Moone,  iii. 
2.  208  'good  people,'  and  loculo  in  The  Maydes  Met.  ii.  I.  61.  Also 
Greene's/tfw^/F(i59i  or -2)  iii.  2.  p.  204  b,  iv.  3.  p.  208  b  (ed.  Dyce).  It 
is  a  relic  (confined  to  soliloquy)  of  the  formless  earlier  popular  drama. 

20.  vse  the  shape  of  a  Sheepehearde,  to  shew  thy  selfe  a  God:  a 
promise  not  kept,  Venus'  allusion,  v.  3.  60  '  shew  thy  selfe  the  same 
Neptune  that  I  knew  thee  to  bee  when  thou  wast  a  Sheepe-hearde,' 
having  nothing  correspondent  in  the  play  as  it  stands.  See  under  Date, 
p.  427. 

P.  442,  3.  wodden  lucke  :  as  opposed  to  golden. 

skreeking :  '  screech '  and  '  shriek '  are  the  modern  survivals  of 
words  of  the  same  sense  variously  spelt  in  older  authors.  Chaucer,  C.  T. 
15406  has  skriken,  and  elsewhere  schrichen,  schriken.  Spenser  has  shriek, 
F.  Q.  vi.  5.  8,  and  ib.  18  scrike.  Cf.  scriches,  Euph.  ii.  79  1.  22. 

5.  Hagges :  witches,  supernatural  beings  ;  serving  to  introduce  the 
ballet,  unconnected  with  plot,  but  sugg.  by  Scot's  Discouerie,  bk.  ii.  c.  4. 

12.  Sublimation,  &c.  :  all  these  are  genuine  alchemic  terms,  though 
some  are  misspelt ;  perhaps  comically,  rather  than  by  Lyly's  or  the  com 
positor's  mistake,  so  I  leave  them  unaltered.  Sublimation  is  reduction  to 
a  gas  by  heat.  Almigation= amalgamation.  Calcination  is  the  reduction 
by  fire  to  a  calx  or  powder.  Circination,  f  a  circling  or  turning  round,'  is 
not  an  alchemic  term,  and  is  probably  Peter's  mistake  for  '  Citrinacion,' 
the  turning  yellow,  indicating  the  state  of  complete  digestion  of  the 
materials  (Chan.  Yem.  Tale,  263  '  citrinacioun ').  Semenfat£0n=Scot's 
'cementing':  cf.  Ripley's  Compound  of  Alchymy,  transl.  by  Raph  Rab- 
bards,  1591,  sig.  F  2  verso  'For  of  this  world  our  stone  is  called  the 
sement.'  Fomentation,  by  transposition  for  '  fermentation.' 

18.  Croslets,  Subliuatories  .  .  .  Violes :  all  six  instruments  mentioned 
together  by  Chaucer,  11.  239-41,  and  borrowed  by  Scot  (see  under 
Sources).  Croslets,  crucibles.  Subliuatories,  sublimatories.  Cucurbits 
(Lat.  cucurbita,  a  gourd),  explained  by  Albertus  Magnus,  De  Alchemia 
Praefatio,  as  vessels  made  to  stand  in  water,  but  supported  so  as  not  to 


568  NOTES 

touch  the  bottom.  Limbecks,  alembics.  Decensores :  '  to  discend '  was 
a  method  of  distillation,  mentioned  in  The  Compound  of  Alchymy,  sig.  M  2 
recto.  Violes,  vials,  phials. 

22.  our  Mettles,  &c.  :  all  mentioned  in  Scot's  Dtscouerie  (xiv.  i)  or  in 
the  passage  of  Chaucer,  and  many  also  in  The  Compound  of  Alchymy, 
sig.  L  verso.  Sal perperat  ('  sal  preparat'  in  Chaucer,  1.  25 7)  =sal prepa- 
ratum.  Sal  Armoni\a\ck  (Chaucer,  1.  245)  is  a  common  name  for  Sal 
ammoniacum.  Argoll  is  the  tartar  adhering  to  a  cask  of  fermented  wine. 
Resagar,  resalgar,  or  realgar,  is  a  red  powder  composed  of  sulphur  and 
arsenic  in  equal  proportions,  differing  from  orpyment,  which  is  yellow  and 
in  which  there  are  two-fifths  arsenic  and  three-fifths  sulphur.  Breeme- 
ivorte  is  merely  Chaucer's  'berm  [barm],  wort,'  Scot's  'woort,  yest.' 
Vnsleked  lyme  is  lime  unslaked,  unmixed  with  water. 

P.  443,  40.  old  Angels  :  the  gold  angel,  worth  6s.  &d.  when  first  coined 
in  1465,  was  worth  about  los.  from  1553  onwards.  Discontinued  temp. 
Charles  I.  Cf.  Beau.  Flet.  Mass.'s  Scornful  Ladie,  ii.  3,  '  old  Angel  gold.' 

49.  foure  Spirits :  '  Sciendum  ergo  quod  quatuor  sunt  metallorum 
spiritus,  scilicet  Mercurius,  sulphur,  auripigmentum,  vel  arsenicum 
['  Orpyment,'  1.  57,  i.  e.  sulphuret  of  arsenic],  £  sal  ammoniacum  :  isti 
quatuor  spiritus  tingunt  metalla  in  album  £  rubeum  ['  Albification '  and 
'  Rubification '  above,  11.  12,  13],  id  est  in  Solem  &  Lunam,'  &c.  Albert. 
Magn.  De  Alchemia  Praefatio  (Theat.  Chem.  ii.  430).  But  Lyly  takes 
his  spirits  and  their  order  from  Chaucer,  Scot  transposing  the  first  two. 
See  under  Sources. 

51.  grosse  :  stupid,  reproducing  the  Alchemist's  tone  to  himself. 

68.  seauen  bodies  :  i.e.  after  Scot,  cf.  p.  424,  the  seven  metals  known  to 
the  ancients  (gold,  silver,  mercury,  copper,  iron,  tin,  lead),  though  inconsis 
tent  with  the  Alchemist's  first  speech  below,  where  silver  and  mercury  are 
ingredients  in  a  mixture  which  is  further  '  tempered  with  the  bodies  seauen.' 
P.  444,  75.  ounce  of  Siluer  limde\  Chaucer's  'of  siluer  lymaille  |  An 
ounce,'  G.  1162. 

78.  Beechen  coales :  Euph.  i.  189  1.  22  'the  greenest  Beeche  burneth 
faster  then  the  dryest  Oke.' 

82.  a  pottle  pot :  'a  two-quart  measure'  (Fairholt). 

94.  corasiue  :  corsive  or  corrosive,  of  acids  that  consume  by  chemical 
action  :  '  Waters  corsiue  and  waters  ardent,'  Compound  of  Alchymy,  sig.  L. 

108.  sweare  .  .  .  poore  fellow  .  .  .  best  man  in  the  Sky  re:  evidently 
proverbial,  and  perhaps  reminiscent  of  the  system  of  Compurgation,  which 
rated  testimony  by  the  rank  of  the  witness,  and  lasted  till  Edward  I. 

P.  445,  111.  Gryphes:  i.e.  griffins.  Pliny  uses  this  form  vii.  2  'cum 
gryphis,  ferarum  volucri  genere,  .  .  .  eruente  ex  cuniculis  aurum,'  &c. 

113.  frize  :  frieze,  coarse  woollen  cloth,  manufactured  in  Friesland. 

128.  my  Father  hath  a  golden  thumbe  :  Robin  refers  to  the  paternal 
mill,  v.  i.  36.  Fairholt  says  the  proverb  '  Every  miller  has  a  golden 


GALLATHEA  569 

thumb '  originates  in  his  judging  the  quality  of  meal  by  rubbing  it  between 
thumb  and  forefinger.     From  the  Prol.  to  the  Canterbury  Tales,  1.  563,  it 
would  seem  ordinarily  to  have  implied  honesty,  not  the  reverse  : 
'  Wei  coude  he  stelen  corn  and  tollen  thryes ; 
And  yet  he  hadde  a  thombe  of  gold,  pardee.' 
Cf.  Fletcher  and  Rowley's  Maid  in  the  Mill,  ii.  I. 

3.  Melebeus  :  Phillida  has  adopted  her  father's  name.     So  Gallathea 
is  called  '  Tyterus '  by  Ramia,  iii.  I.  96. 

10.  quaites :  variant  of '  quoits,'  still  used  in  the  United  States. 
P.  446,  4.  6V.  V.  what  best  lyketh  thee,  most  discontenteth  thee :  the 
appearance  of  a  boy,  which  pleases  you  in  him,  displeases  you  in  yourself. 

4.  Act  III,  Sc.  I.  Piralis,  &c. :  Pliny,  xi.  42  'pyralis  .  .  .  quamdiu  est 
in  igne,  vivit :  cum  evasit  longiore  paulo  volatu,  emoritur.'     Eufih.  ii.  93 
1.  25  note. 

P.  447,  16.  made  eternall'.  made  out  to  be  so. 

18.  Cotton  trees  .  .  .  soundeth  .  .  .  wooll'.  Pliny,  xix.  2  notes  of  one 
kind  of  flax  '  tinnitus,  cum  dente  libeat  experiri,'  and  '  fruticem  quein 
alioqui  gossipion  vocant,  plures  xylon,  et  ideo  lina  inde  facta  xylina  '  :  and 
xii.  21  '  Ferunt  cotonei  mali  amplitudine  cucurbitas,  quae  maturitate 
ruptae  ostendunt  lanuginis  pilas  .  .  .  Arbores  vocant  gossympinos.' 

23.  false  my  vowe  :  Cymbeline,  ii.  3.  74  '  makes  Diana's  rangers  false 
themselves ' :  B.  Googe,  Eglogs,  vii.  57  '  she  falst  her  troth  to  me.'  Cf. 
Woman  in  the  Moone,  iv.  i.  73  '  Detested  falsor  ! '  Latest  instance  1708. 

48.  wakenesse :  time  spent  awake.     No  other  instance  known. 
P.  448,  75-6.    so  neere  me  .  .  .  neere  yoic :    the  first  of  their  physical 
neighbourhood  ;  the  second  of  tripping  up  or  detecting,  of  a  home-thrust. 

81.  of  that  in  the  Woodes:  of  what  is  doing  in  the  woods. 
P.  449,  90.  she  shall  not  haue  thefayre  boy,  &c. :  each  nymph  applying 
that  title  to  the  object  of  her  particular  fancy. 

3.  Tree  in  Tylos :  a  vegetable  and  country  unknown  to  Pliny  and 
Earth.  Anglicus.  The  latter  speaks  of  the  island  Thile  (Thule  ?). 

9.  I  doe  not  wish  (thee}  to  be  a  woman:  without  'thee'  the  speech 
implies  a  knowledge  of  Gallathea's  real  sex.  Phillida  is  not  answering 
her,  but  merely  retracting  her  own  last  remark. 

P.  450,  39.  My  Father  had  but  one  daughter .  .  .  no  sister :  Shake 
speare  borrows  the  equivoque  for  Viola  in  a  like  situation — Tw.  Night, 
ii.  4.  123  'I  am  all  the  daughters  of  my  father's  house,  And  all  the 
brothers  too.' 

P.  451,  54.  7,  so  you :  '  Ay,  if  you.' 

12.  a  Spanish  needle',  before  1650  the  English  manufacture  was  of 
small  importance,  and  till  1563  the  wire  for  making  them  was  imported 
from  Germany  or  Spain  ( Chambers'  Encycl.). 

18.  Musicians  .  .  .  breasts  :  i.  e.  voices.  Tw.  Night,  ii.  3.  20  '  the  fool 
has  an  excellent  breast.' 


570  NOTES 

25.  concurre :  N.  E.  D.  quotes  Myrrourfor  Mag.,  Henry  VI,  xii.  83- 
'  wrath  and  wreake  divine,  mans  sinnes  and  humours  yll,  Concur  in  one ' ; 
but  Raffe's  exclamation  implies  that  the  English  abstract  use  was  really 
a  metaphor  from  alchemy. 

P.  452,  35.  great  horse:  war-horse  (Bucephalus).     Euph.  i.  287  1.  10. 

41.  Octogessimus  octauus,  &c. :  see  under  Sources,  p.  422. 

43.  batfowling  for  starres\  'batfowling'  was  a  mode  of  catching 
birds  at  night  by  means  of  torches,  poles,  and  sometimes  nets  ;  Tempest, 
ii.  i.  185  (Schmidt). 

49.  hang  them  vp  at  Tauerns'.  alluding  to  the  frequency  of  such 
signs  as  '  The  Sun,'  '  Seven  Stars,'  &c.  (Fairholt). 

53.  goiierne  the  body.  'Almanacks  were  furnished  with  a  woodcut  of 
a  naked  man  surrounded  by  these  figures,  each  pointed  toward  the  part 
of  the  body  they  governed.  "  Stuck  with  points  like  the  man  in  the 
almanack"'  (Fairholt). 

57.  signe  of  an  ill  Eive :  the  inexhaustible  Elizabethan  joke  about 
'  horns/  a  curved  horn  being  the  symbol  for  the  Ram. 

P.  453,  66.  catch  the  Moone  in  the  clips :  i.  e.  the  pincers ;  referring 
to  line  42  (above),  with  pun  on  '  (e)clipse.' 

67.  pursnet :  a  net  the  mouth  of  which  may  be  drawn  close  with 
cords.     '  Conies  are  taken  by  pursenets  in  their  burrows,'  Mortimer,  Hus 
bandry  ;  also  in  Middleton  and  Dekker's  Roaring  Girl,  iv.  2  (Cent.  Diet.}. 

68.  Golden  number  .  .  .  Epact .  .  .  Prime :  golden  number  is  that 
of  any  year  in  the  Metonic  cycle  of  nineteen  years,  used  ecclesiastically 
with  the  epact,  or  number  showing  the  excess  of  solar  over  lunar  year  or 
month,  to  determine  the  day  on  which  the  Easter  full  moon  falls  (Encycl. 
Brit.,  art.  Calendar).     A  prime  number  is  one  indivisible  without  re 
mainder.     Astronomically   'prime   vertical'    is    a   celestial   great   circle 
passing  through  the  east  and  west  points  and  the  zenith. 

83.  moralized',  of  moral  or  symbolical  application. 

5.  drib  thine  arrowes:  'shoot  at  short  paces'  (Halliwell).     Collier 
suggested  'dribbing  dart  of  love'  for  'dribling'  in  Meas.forMeas.  i.  3.  2. 
'  Dribble'  is  frequentative  of  'drib,'  which  is  a  variant  of  drip  (Skeat). 

6.  leies :  leyes,  leas,  =  fields. 

9.  a  burne :  i.  e.  that  made  by  the  drop  of  hot  oil  from  Psyche's 
lamp  ;  see  1.  63  '  Psiches  burne.' 

10.  print  on  her  backe  like  a  leafe  :  merely  Lyly's  allusion  to  her 
skill  in  herbs.     Callisto's  '  picture  like  a  birde '  has  no  authority.     See 
for  her  Hyg.  Poet.  Astr.  ii.  2  (p.  58,  ed.  1578). 

P.  454,  16.  Diana.  Nowe  Ladies,  &c. :  this  speech  is  intended  to 
flatter  Elizabeth's  jealousy  of  marriages  among  her  courtiers.  Halpin,  on 
p.  63  of  his  essay,  Oberon's  Vision,  &c.,  quotes  a  number  of  instances, 
some  of  which,  however,  had  political  justification  : — '  Elizabeth  would  fain 
have  prevented  the  marriage  of  Darnley  ("her  subject")  with  the  Queen 


GALLATHEA  571 

of  Scots.  She  interposed  more  effectually  between  that  lady  and  the 
Duke  of  Norfolk.  She  was  highly  indignant  at  the  marriage  of  Lady 
Lennox's  son  with  the  Countess  of  Shrewsbury's  daughter,  and  punished 
both  mothers  with  a  long  imprisonment  (Lodge's  Illustr.  ii.  123). 
Burghley  declined  a  marriage  between  his  daughter  and  the  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury's  son,  "lest  it  might  offend  the  Queen,  and  render  him 
suspected"  (Ibid.  133).  The  favourite  Essex  fell  under  her  Majesty's 
severe  displeasure  for  marrying,  and  his  wife  was  ordered  to  "  Hue  very 
retired  in  her  mother's  house,"  in  1590  (Ibid.  ii.  n,  16).  Lady  Bridget 
Manners,  and  Robert  Tyrwhit,  of  Kelilby,  incurred  matrimony  in  1594, 
and  were  "  in  a  sort  committed  "  (Ibid.  iii.  65).  And,  to  mention  no  more, 
the  Earl  of  Southampton  long  marred  his  prospects  of  the  royal  favour 
with  his  "too  much  familiarity  in  courting  the  faire  Mistress  Varnon"; 
and,  when  married,  both  bride  and  bridegroom  felt  the  severity  of  the 
Queen's  resentment  in  a  long  imprisonment  (Sidney  Papers,  \.  348).' 
Cf.  Endim.  iv.  I.  66  Corsites  to  Tellus  'Cynthia  beginneth  to  rise,  and  if 
she  discouer  our  loue  we  both  perish,  for  nothing  pleaseth  her  but  the 
fairenesse  of  virginitie.'  Cf.  Camp.  v.  4.  97  ;  Loves  Met,  v.  4.  12. 

21.  Onix .  .  .hotest  when.  .  .  whitest',  probably  a  misreading  of 
Pliny,  xxxvi.  12  or  xxxvii.  24. 

24.  Homers  Moly,  &c. :  Od.  x.  304  pi£rj  ptv  /ueXai/  eWf,  yaXa/cn  Se 
(UeXov  avdos.  Cf.  Euph.  ii.  1 8  1.  19. 

30.  abateth  the  poynt :  blunts  it.  The  unblunted  foil  with  which 
Hamlet  and  Laertes  are  slain  is  called  '  unbated '  (v.  2.  328). 

33.  Eagles  cast  their  euill  feathers  in  the  Siinne  :  Earth.  Angl.  xii.  I, 
fol.  163  verso  b  quotes  Pliny  as  saying  that  an  old  eagle  whose  wings  are 
grown  heavy  finds  a  well  of  fresh  water  '  and  then  she  fleeth  vp  in  to 
the  ayre  as  ferre  as  she  may,  tyll  she  be  full  hotte  by  heate  of  the  ayre  and 
by  traueyle  of  flyght,  and  so  then  by  heate  the  pores  bene  opened,  &  the 
fethers  chauffed,  &  she  falleth  sodaynly  in  to  the  welle,  and  there  the 
fethers  ben  chaunged  .  .  .  and  she  taketh  ayen  her  myght  and  strength.' 

34.  birdes  Ibes :  other  inventions  about  them  occur  Enphues,  ii.  201 
1.  4,  212  1.  24. 

36.  with  :  by  reason  of. 

43.  Ixion  imbrace  clowdes :  Hyginus,  Fab.  62  '  Ixion  .  .  .  conatus  est 
lunonem  comprimere.  luno  lovis  iussu  nubem  supposuit,  quam  Ixion 
lunonis  simulacrum  esse  credidit.'  Cf.  Knight's  speech,  Tilt-yard,  vol.  i. 
pp.  415  1.  14,  416  11.  27,  32. 

45.  Eagles  fethers,  &c. :  Pliny,  x.  4  '  Aquilarum  pennae  mixtas  reli- 
quarum  alitum  pennas  devorant.'  Again  Euphues,  i.  205  1.  31. 

48.  pennefor  Sonets,  not  the  needle  for  Samplers  :  a  reminiscence  of 
Euph.  \.  320,  321,  ii.  201  1.  28. 

P.  456,  90.  in  spight  of  mine  owne  thoughts :  which  would  prefer  not 
to  concern  themselves  with  Cupid  at  all. 


572  NOTES 

P.  457,  25.  adde  so  much  to :  lean  to  the  side  of. 

40-7.  bad  cloth  .  .  .  ivilie  Mouse  .  .  .  halt  cunninglie,  &c. :  all  three 
from  John  Heywood's  Proverbes,  1546  (Reprint  1874,  pp.  125,  157).  The 
cripple  occurs  in  Chaucer's  Troylus,  iv.  1.  1458,  and  Euphues,  ii.  92 

1.  8 ;  the  mouse  mEuph.  ii.  20  1.  15. 

P.  458.  enter  singing}  in  Marston's,  or  Campion's,  Antimasque  of 
Mountebanks,  given  at  Gray's  Inn,  Feb.  2,  1617-8,  and  at  Whitehall  on 
the  iQth  (Nichols5  Progr.Jas.  /,  iii.  466-8  ;  it  was  printed  from  a  bad  MS. 
in  his  Progr.  Eliz.  iii.  332-48 ;  from  a  better  by  Collier,  Inigo  Jones, 
Sh.  Soc.  1848,  and  in  Mr.  Bullen's  Marston,  vol.  iii ;  but  Addit.  MS. 
5956,  ff.  74-82,  gives  a  far  better  text  with  full  stage-directions)  the  first 
verse  of  the  2nd  Mountebank's  Song  reads  like  a  coarse  parody  of  Lyly's, 
espec.  of  verse  3  : 

'  Is  any  deaf?   is  any  blinde  ? 
Is  any  bound  or  loose  behinde  ? 
Is  any  foule  that  would  be  fayer  ? 
Would  any  lady  change  her  haire? 
Does  any  dreame?    does  any  wa(l)ke? 
Or  in  their  sleep  afrighted  talke  ? 
I  come  to  cure  what  ere  you  feele 
Wthin,  wthout,  from  head  to  heele.' 

5.  All  3  :  the  song  is  arranged  as  a  trio,  though  the  prefixes  to  the 
following  dialogue  show  that  four  nymphs  take  part  in  the  scene. 

P.  459,  53.  best  collours,  and  worst  conceits  :  best  pretences  and  worst 
thoughts. 

P.  460,  74.  and  you  Ladies :  to  the  audience.     See  note  on  ii.  2.  13. 

5.  slights  may  bleere  men  :  sleights  may  blind  the  eyes  of  men. 
P.  461,  16.  let  me  call  thee  Mistris :  cf.  proxy  wooing,  A.  Y.  L,  I.  iii. 

2.  448. 

21.  there  lie  the  Mistrisse\  i.e.  mysteries. 
P.  462,  6.  Octogesshmis  octauus-.  as  iii.  3.  41.   See  Sources,  p.  422. 

8.  into  a  ponde :  perhaps  from  Chaucer's  Milleres  Tale,  A.  3457  ; 
but  also  in  Fabulae  Aesopicae phtres  quingentis,  Lyons,  1571,  8vo  (No.  162 
De  Astrologo  &  Viatore).  Reproduced,  says  Fairholt,  in  Whitney's 
EmblemeS)  1586:  — 

'  Th'  astronomer,  by  night  beheld  the  starres  to  shine : 
And  what  should  chaunce  another  yeare,  began  for  to  devine. 
But  while  too  longe  in  skyes,  the  curious  foole  did  dwell, 
As  he  was  marchinge  through  the  shade,  he  slipt  into  a  well,'  &c. 
It  occurs  in  Plato's  Theatetus,  174  A,  of  Thales  (Skeat)  ;  appropriately  of 
one  who  resolved  the  universe  into  water. 

P.  463,  32.  no  meate  but  spittle  since  I  came  to  the  woods :  ( The  froth 
which  they  call  woodseare,  being  like  a  kind  of  spittle,  is  found  but  upon 
certain  herbs  ...  as  lauender .  .  .  sage,'  &c.  Bacon,  Nat.  Hist.  §  497 


GALLATHEA  573 

(Cent.  Diet.  s.  v.  Wood-sare).  Pappe,  vol.  iii.  p.  399  1.  26  '  spittle  is  like 
woodsere.' 

43.  a  lottalist,  borne  of  a  Thursday  .  .  .  a  braue  Venerian  .  .  .  Fry  day : 
the  days  of  the  week  received  their  names  from  the  seven  planets.  In  the 
Liber  aggregations  seu  liber  secretorum  Alberti  magni,  &c.,  circa  1480, 
occurs  the  following : — '  dies  Dmcus  habet  astrum  suum  sub  sole.  Dies 
lunae  habet  astrum  suu  sub  luna.  Dies  Martis  habet  astrum  suum  sub 
Marte.  Dies  Mercurii  habet  astrum  suum  sub  Mercurio.  Dies  louis 
habet  astrum  suum  sub  loue.  Dies  Veneris  habet  astrum  suum  sub 
venere.  Dies  sabbati  habet  astru  suum  sub  Saturno,'  sig.  c  ij  verso.  In 
the  Romance  languages  the  derivation  is  perfectly  clear.  What  seems 
Raffe's  pun  on  '  jovial '  would  be  none  to  astrologers. 

47.  Venus  orta  mart :  Ov.  Her.  xv.  212,  quoted  in  Lyly's  school-book, 
A  Shorte  Introduction  of 'Grammar •,  by  W.  Lilly  and  J.  Colet,  fol.  Kj. 

49.  Caro  carnis,  &c. :  in  the  Shorte  Introduction,  fol.  E  4  verso  (bott.), 
the  first  special  rule  for  gender  is  '  Nomen  non  crescens  genitiuo,  ceu  caro 
carnis,  capra  caprae,  nubes  nubis,  genus  est  muliebre.' 

58.  burnt  out .  .  .  eyes :  so  Chaucer,  C.  T.  G.  730  '  blered  is  myn  ye.' 
P.  464,  61.  onely  my  slumber :  my  very  sleep.  Cf.  Woman  in  the 
Moone,  ii.  i.  126  'The  only  promise  of  thy  future  loue,  Will  drowne  .  .  . 
dispayre.' 

68.  both  his  younger  brothers :  Dicke  then  is  the  youngest ;  and 
11.  35-6,  73-4  suggest  that  Robin  is  the  second. 

69.  passestfor :  excellest  in. 

73.  hys great  Grand-father,  £c.  :  i.e.  very  much  more  than  his  elder 
at  cozening. 

11.  by  deceit",  inasmuch  as  the  proper  victim  is  being  withheld. 

12.  custome:  tribute.     Cf.  Flet.  and  Mass.'s  title  The  Custom  of  the 
Country. 

P.  465,  15-19.  Egiptians  neuer  cut  their  Dates  :  Roses  .  .  .  Garden  of 
Palestine:  incense  Tree  in  Arabia :  these  interesting  details  seem  quite 
unknown  to  Pliny,  though  in  xii.  30  he  speaks  of  the  felling  or  cropping  of 
the  incense  trees  in  Arabia  as  performed  by  a  sacred  guild  with  purifica 
tory  precautions. 

P.  466,  8.  what  man  or  God  is  this  ? :  the  only  suggestion  that  Neptune 
may  have  fulfilled  his  purpose  of  disguise  announced  ii.  2.  20-1. 

P.  468,  48.  Loues  woundes  .  .  .  greene,  rankle,  &c. :  a  green  wound  is 
a  fresh  wound  (2  Hen.  IV,  ii.  I.  106) ;  rankling,  a  later  stage:  i.e.  love 
which  seems  but  recent  has  already  gone  deep,  and  that  which  seems 
healed  is  still  dangerous. 

56.  cannot  chitse  (but  chatter). 

57.  when  she  so  speaketh  well',  when  Diana's  wise  speech  is  of  so 
cruel  a  nature  as  this. 

61.  when  thou  wast  a  Sheepe-hearde :  see  ii.  2.  21,  and  under  Date, 


574  NOTES 

p.  427.     In  Hyginus,  Fab.  188,  Neptune  turns  Theophane  into  a  sheep, 
and  himself  assumes  the  form  of  a  ram. 

80.  leuell\  aim. 

P.  469,  85.  first  by  Sapho,  nowe  by  Diana :  referring  to  Sapho  and 
Phao,  v.  2.  46,  and  proving,  as  Fleay  points  out,  the  priority  of  that  play. 

94.  Arrowes  in  mine  eyes :  the  charming  conceits  put  into  Cupid's 
mouth  here,  and  especially  those  of  iv.  2,  tend  to  confirm  Lyly's  author 
ship  of  the  Songs. 

P.  470,  143.  Iphis  and  lanthes :  Ov.  Met.  ix.  665  sqq.  See  Sources, 
p.  421.  In  Ovid  the  turning  of  Iphis  to  a  boy  is  brought  about  by  Isis. 

P.  471,  181.  fortune  tellers  :  (i)  prophecy,  (2)  relation  of  past  fortunes 
—a  wretched  quibble. 

182.  these  twelue  monthes :  see  on  Time,  p.  428. 

184.  peeuish  :  as  M.  Bomb.  i.  3.  90,  End.  i.  i.  19. 

P.  472,  191.  Meanely.  i.  e.  the  tenor.  This  series  of  musical  puns  is 
repeated  in  the  talk  between  Silvestris  and  Niobe,  Loves  Metam.  iii.  i. 
1 2 1-6. 

194.  sing  Hymen  :  Ov.  Her.  xii.  137  uses  hymen  for  the  nuptial  hymn 
— '  subito  nostras  hymen  cantatus  ad  aures  Venit,'  £c. 

EPILOGUE.  9.  sucking:  suckled. 


ADDITIONAL  NOTE.— It  appears  that  Lyly's  debt  in  his  Alchemist  to 
Chaucer's  Chanouns  Yemannes  Tale  had  also  occurred  to  Professor 
Littledale  of  Cardiff  University  College,  though  he  never  made  it  public. 
I  have  embodied  above,  from  the  notes  he  most  kindly  placed  at  my 
service,  one  or  two  points  which  had  escaped  my  notice,  viz.  the  note  on 
p.  463,  1.  58,  and  the  references  to  the  Miller es  Tale  under  pp.  430,  462 
1.  8.  My  Introduction  to  the  play  was  in  print  before  I  heard  from  him. 


END   OF  VOL.   II 


OXFORD 
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Lyly,  John 

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