p/? 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PR2411.P631886 
 
 C.2 
 
 The pilgrimage to Parnassus with the two 
 
 3 1924 013 127 182 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013127182 
 
The Pilgrimage 'to Parnassus 
 
 WITH 
 
 The Two Parts of 
 
 The Return from Parnassus 
 
HENRY FROWDE 
 
 Oxford Unxversity Press Warehouse 
 Amen Corner, E.G. 
 
^^±^(^/f^ff;M\ 
 
 ^M 
 
 1 
 
 ^fts^s^rii 
 
 HE PILGRIMAGE TO 
 PARNASSUS with THE 
 TWO PARTS OF THB 
 RETURN FROM PARNASSUS. 
 Three Comedies performed in ST. 
 JOHN'S COLLEGE CAMBRIDGE 
 A.D. MDXCVII-MDCI. Edited 
 from MSS. by the REV. IV^ Df^ 
 MA CRAY, M.A., F.S.A. 
 
 OXFORD AT THE CLARENDON PRESS 
 MDCCCLXXXVI 
 
/fcORNELlS 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 [All rights reserved] 
 
 I J <;■^t-'i^-«' V'S-' 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 I HE present volume contains a trilogy of dramas 
 which, although Icnown to have once existed, has 
 lain perdu to the world from the time of its com- 
 position, except with regard to the third part. That 
 third part was twice printed in 1606, rather more than four 
 years after the date of its first representation ; was reprinted 
 in the last century ; was included a few years ago in Mr. 
 W. Carew Hazlitt's edition of Dodsley's Select Plays ; and 
 in 1879 obtained a place in Prof. Arber's English Scholar's 
 Library. But why this third part should alone have been 
 published by its author does not clearly appear; it was 
 described by its eighteenth-century editor, Thos. Hawkins, 
 in somewhat exaggerated terms, as being ' perhaps the most 
 singular composition in our language,' but its singularity of 
 design and character is shared equally by the earlier parts, 
 which display also as much humour and are fuller of illus- 
 trations of the academic life of the period. They have, 
 unhappily, as much too of that coarseness which is such a 
 blot on the popular literature of the time, but they have no 
 such pages of repulsive rant as are assigned at the close of 
 the third part to the extravagant characters Furor Poeticus 
 and Phantasma. Probably the secret of the greater 
 popularity of the third part may be found in the personal 
 satire expressed in the character of the Recorder. In him 
 is personified Francis Brackyn, who in his office as Re- 
 corder of Cambridge incurred extreme unpopularity in the 
 
 b 
 
vi Preface. 
 
 University by maintaining the right of the Mayor to 
 precedency over. the Vice-Chancellor in certain cases. -^ He 
 had already been satirized in Club-Law, a play acted at 
 Clare Hall in 1597-8 ; and it is possible that he may also 
 be the lawyer who at a later date figures as Ignoramus in 
 Ruggles' famous comedy. It may well be that it was on 
 this account that the last part of our trilogy won the 
 greater popularity amongst the academic auditors to 
 whose sympathies it appealed ; and the prominence 
 given through its second title, The Scourge of Simony, to 
 that portion of the play which represents the lawyer's 
 co-operation with a patron in the sale of an ecclesiastical 
 benefice, makes it also probable that the latter greedy 
 reprobate, called by the different names of Sir Frederick, 
 Sir Raderick, and Sir Randall, may have been some other 
 easily recognised and notorious character of the time. It 
 was only some twenty-five years before that a statute had 
 been passed (13 Eliz. cap. 6) forbidding the taking money 
 for presentation to a vacant benefice, and making that an 
 off'ence by civil law which had before been only cognizable 
 under canon law, but no doubt unscrupulous patrons and 
 lawyers had already begun to find ways for driving the' 
 proverbial coach and horses through the technicalities 
 of the enactment. 
 
 The first two comedies are now printed from a MS. 
 preserved in one of Thomas Hearne's volumes of miscellane- 
 ous collections in the Bodleian Library. With a true sense 
 of the possible value to others, if not to himself, of all 
 remnants of earlier times, of the very rags of writings, 
 Hearne (who, in the words of his self-written epitaph, 
 ' studied and preserved antiquities ' in a way for which we 
 of the later generations can never be too grateful) stored up 
 
 ' See Mr. James Bass MuUmger's University of Cambridge 1535-1625, 
 published in 1884, p. 526. An abstract of the third play is there given at 
 PP- 522-526. 
 
all kipds of papers, binding them together just as they came 
 to his hands, in most admired confusion. His MSS. now 
 form part of Dr. Richard Rawlinson's vast collection ; and 
 there, in one of his mixed volumes numbered Rawlinson D 
 398, I met with these lost plays. The MS. consists of 
 twenty folio leaves (besides one outside leaf) written 
 evidently by a copyist, who, as evidently, has sometimes- 
 been unable to read, or too careless to read, his original 
 correctly. The stage directions are written in pale red ink. 
 There is a curious peculiarity in the scribe's spelling, which 
 may perhaps help to determine his provincial locality; words 
 ending in ce, such as ' once,' ' fence,' ' hence,' are written 
 without the final e, ' one,' ' fenc,' ' henc' And ' they ' is 
 frequently used for ' the.' On the outside leaf is written, as 
 an owner's name, ' Edmunde Rishton, Lancastrensis.' It is 
 possible that, as the plays were acted at St. John's College, 
 this person was a member of the College ; but as un- 
 fortunately the registers there only reach back to the year 
 1634 (as I am informed by Mr. J. B. Mullinger), there 
 are no means of tracing him through College records. Nor 
 has Mr. J. Eglington Bailey, whose knowledge with respect 
 to the families and worthies of Lancashire is extensive and 
 well known, been able to identify him by this his short 
 local description of himself. And while this mark of owner- 
 ship connects this MS. with a northern county, it is worthy 
 of notice that the second MS., to be described further on, 
 came to its present possessor's hands from a library in the 
 north.^ We should be prepared therefore to look thither 
 for the author ; and in the prologue to the second play we 
 seem to find some evidence that he was a native of Cheshire. 
 The two lines in the professed description of the author, 
 
 'Hee never since durst name a peece of cheese, 
 Though Chessire seems to priviledge his name,' 
 
 ' The provincial philologist will, I believe, find vfords of northern use not 
 infrequent ; e.g. ' sooping.' 
 
 b 3 
 
viii ^VZtaCZ. 
 
 appear to connect him with that county, although the 
 allusion is one which, in our ignorance of the author, defies 
 explanation. If the lines preceding these are to be taken 
 azi s/rieux, and not simply as jocular, he was one who had 
 failed to secure his B.A. hood at Cambridge, and had 
 migrated thence to Germany, where he had at last obtained 
 some ' silie poore degree ' ; and then, it would seem, had 
 returned to his Alma Mater. 
 
 The plays were all of them ' Christmas toys.' The date 
 of the third has been proved from internal evidence (see 
 Prof. Arber's Introduction to his reprint) to be December, 
 1 60 1. The fresh readings in the prologue to that play, 
 which have been gained from Mr. Hallivvell-Phillipps' MS., 
 show us that the first part (which was written in three 
 days) was acted four years before, i.e. in December, i597> 
 and that the third was the final conclusion of the series. 
 That prologue tells us also that the author and a friend^ 
 described as the Philomusus and Studioso of the comedies, 
 had meanwhile been to Italy, which we learn also from the 
 fourth scene of the first act. The two friends represent 
 themselves as having contemplated, in the mercenary hope 
 of profitable preferment, secession abroad to that Roman 
 Faith for which many others had at that time abandoned 
 both Cambridge and Oxford, but finding that ' discontented 
 clerks ' could not get a cardinal's cap as easily as they 
 expected, they preferred want at home to mendicancy at 
 Rome or Rheims ; in this, no doubt, satirizing the supposed 
 motives of some of the Roman converts. We learn too 
 that the earlier plays had been acted more than once at 
 Cambridge, although some of the allusions which appear 
 to imply this, viz. those to the 'sophisters' knocks' and 
 the ' butler's box,' are by no means clear. 
 
 In the former printed texts of the third play there are 
 frequent passages which are unintelligible from errors of 
 the press. These are now rendered clear by readings 
 
gained from a MS. in the possession of Mr. Halliwell- 
 Phillipps, for the use of which I am greatly indebted to that 
 gentleman. The new readings show how fair a field is 
 really open to conjecture in the attempted correction of old 
 texts for which no MS. authority exists, and justify much 
 of the conjectural criticism which is applied to Shakespearean 
 difficulties.^ They prove also the critical- acumen and 
 ingenuity of Edm. Malone, since several of the corrections 
 are found to correspond with emendations noted by him, as 
 apparently his own guesses, in the margins of one of his 
 printed copies.^ The MS. in question forms a small 
 quarto volume, in a parchment cover, and is written by 
 a contemporary hand. There is no trace of authorship 
 or ownership ; but it came to its present possessor's hands 
 from an old family library, where it may well have been 
 from the days of James I. 
 
 It has already been mentioned that this third play was 
 twice printed in the year 1606. Both the editions were 
 printed at London by G. Eld for John Wright, and are 
 exactly similar in title-page and appearance. But there are 
 frequent verbal variations in their texts. The one which 
 is here designated in the foot-notes as ' B ' is that which 
 was used by Mr. Arber for his reprint. Unfortunately this 
 is by far (as the notes show) the less correct of the two. 
 The other, designated as ' A,' has been adopted in the 
 main for the text here given, with the corrections of the 
 MS. (enclosed in brackets) and occasionally a few correc- 
 tions also from ' B.' Of both these editions there are 
 copies in Malone's collection in the Bodleian Library. 
 
 For illustrations of University life and scholars' struggles 
 
 ' It is needless here to point out to those who vrill examine text and notes 
 the. many corrections which are gained from the MS. It is enough to refer to 
 p. 87 for the important correction in the first of the lines upon Shakespeare, 
 and to p. 139 for the reading of ' size que ' for ' sice kne.' 
 
 ' These places are pointed out in the footnotes of the various readings. 
 
the newly-recovered plays will be found very curious and 
 interesting. Very witty and amusing, too, and full of real 
 life-like character, are the pictures of the carrier Leonard and 
 the tapster Simson, and the village churchwarden Perceval. 
 But the chief interest lies in the fresh notices afforded of 
 Shakespeare, of so early a date as 1 600. The quotations 
 with which Gullio interlards his discourse, and which he 
 appropriates as his own, the respect with which he speaks 
 of the poet as ' Mr. Shakspeare,' his declaration that he will 
 have his picture in his study and keep his Vejius and Adonis 
 under his pillow, and the preference which he gives at once 
 to lines that profess to imitate Shakespeare before those 
 which imitate Chaucer and Spenser, are all signs of the 
 popularity which had already been won. But it is popu- 
 larity only with a certain class. The notices in the third 
 play seem (as Mr. MuUinger has remarked, Univ. of Cambr. 
 p. 524 n) ' to convey the notion that Shakespeare is the 
 favourite of the rude half-educated strolling players, as 
 distinguished from the refined geniuses of the University.' 
 And those in the second play, which all come from the 
 mouth of Gullio, the arrant braggart, the empty pretender 
 to knowledge, and the avowed libertine, and from his page, 
 tend to show that while the Venus and Adonis was the 
 best known of the already published writings, this in the 
 esteem of Cambridge scholars made Shakespeare to be re- 
 garded as specially being the favourite of the class which 
 that character represents. Certainly the popularity assigned 
 to him is not of a sort to be desired ; but the popularity 
 itself is indisputable. 
 
 A comparison with Bishop Hall's Satires brings to view 
 a great similarity alike in subjects and in language. The 
 second book of the Satires deals, in fact, with many of the 
 abuses of which our unknown author treats. The second 
 satire in that book is a complaint of the poverty of scholars ; 
 
preface. xi 
 
 the third deals with lawyers ; the fourth with doctors ^; 
 the fifth with the growing sin of simony, in relation to which 
 we meet with the same term of ' steeple-fair ' which is used 
 infra at p. 137 ; the sixth is respecting the engagement of 
 a tutor, in which the conditions are very nearly identical, 
 and the payment wholly so, ' five marks and winter livery.' 
 The Satires were first printed in 1597 ; and the coincidences 
 are so many and striking that it is plain that the writer of 
 the plays had them at least freshly in remembrance, and 
 may even have been consciously borrowing ideas from 
 them. 
 
 It may be well to mention that in the first two plays I 
 have supplied the punctuation, the MS. itself being but 
 scantily pointed. In regard to the third I have followed the 
 example of previous editors, and have left the punctuation 
 as it is found in the edition of i5o6 noted as A, bad and 
 irregular as that often is, and have also retained capital 
 letters as there given, in order that the text of that edition 
 may be correctly represented. 
 
 ' By both writers the medical consultation-fee is said to be a groat ; to which 
 in the play the patient of his bounty adds eight pence. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The Pilgrimage to Parnassus i 
 
 The Return from Parnassus 25 
 
 The Return from Parnassus (Part II), or the Scourge 
 
 OF Simony 76 
 
 Notes 155 
 
 Glossary 158 
 
THE 
 
 PILGRIMAGE TO PARNASSUS. 
 
 actors. 
 
 CONSILIODORUS. AMORETTO. 
 
 Philomusus. Ingenioso. 
 
 Studioso. Clowne. 
 
 Madido. Dromo. 
 Stupido. 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 Spectators, take youe noe severe accounte 
 
 Of our twoo pilgrims to Parnassus' mount. 
 
 If youle take three daies studie in good cheare, 
 
 Our muse is blest that ever shee came here. 
 
 If not, wele eare noe more the barren sande, s 
 
 But let our pen seeke a more fertile lande. 
 
 ACTUS I"^. 
 
 Enter Consiliodorus with Philomusus and Studioso. 
 
 Consil. Now, Philomusus, doe youre beardless years, 
 Youre faire yonge spring time, and youre budded youth. 
 Urge mee to advise youre younge untutord thoughte, 
 And give gray-bearded counsell to youre age. lo 
 
 Unto an ould man's speache one minute give. 
 Who manie years have schooled how to live: 
 
 B 
 
3 %^t ^Hsvimasz [Acti. 
 
 To an advisinge tounge one halfe houre tende ; 
 Whatsoere I speake experience hath pend. 
 Perhaps this tounge, this minde-interpretor, 15 
 
 Shall never more borrowe youre lisninge eare; 
 Eare youe returne from greene Parnassus' hill 
 My corps shall lie within some senceless urne, 
 Some litel grave my ashes shall inclose. 
 My winged soul 'gins scorne this slimie jayle 20 
 
 And thinke upon a purer mansion. 
 ^ Elde summons mee to appeare at Pluto's courte, 
 Amonge the shadie troups of aerie ghostes. 
 lie therefore counsell youe while I have time, 
 For feare youre faire youth wither in her prime. 35 
 
 Take good advise from him who lovs youe well ; 
 Plaine dealing needs not Retoricks tinklinge bell. 
 
 • Philo. Father, what ere youre lovinge tounge shall utter, 
 
 He drinke youre words with an attentive eare. 
 
 Age in his speach a majestie doth beare. 30 
 
 Stud. I love to heare love play the oratoure. 
 Younge men's advise can beare but litell swaye, 
 Counsell comes kindlie from a heade thats graye. 
 
 Consil. What wisedom manie winters hath begott 
 Tyme's midwifrey at length shall bringe to light. 35 
 
 Youe twoo are pilgrims to Parnassus' hill, 
 Where with sweet nectar you youre vaines may fill ; 
 Wheare youe maye bath youre drye and withered quills 
 And teache them write some sweeter poetrie 
 That may heareafter live a longer daye. 40 
 
 There may youe bath youre lipps in Hellicon, 
 And wash youre tounge in Aganippe's well, > 
 
 And teache them warble out some sweet sonnete 
 To ravishe all the filde and neighboure-groves; 
 That aged Collin, leaninge on his stafFe, j, 45 
 
 Feedinge his milkie flocke upon the downs 
 
Acti] to i&atna00usf* 3 
 
 May wonder at. youre sweete melodious pips, 
 
 And be attentive to youre harmonic. 
 
 There may youre templs be adornd with bays ; 
 
 There may youe slumber in sweet extasies ; 50 
 
 There may you sit in softe greene lauriate shade, 
 
 And heare the Muses warble out a laye, 
 
 And mountinge singe like larke in somer's daye. 
 
 There may youe scorne each Mydas of this age, 
 
 Eache earthlie peasant and each drossie clowne, 55 
 
 That knoweth not howe to weigh youre worthiness, 
 
 But feedeth on beste come, like a stall fed ass. 
 
 Whose statelie mouth in scorne by wheate doth pass. 
 
 I doe comende youre studious intent 
 
 In that youe make soe faire a pilgrimage. 60 
 
 If I were younge who nowe am waxen oulde, 
 
 Whose yonts^ youe see are dryde, benumd and coulde, 
 
 Though I foreknewe that gold runns to the boore 
 
 He be_a scholler, though I live but poore. 
 
 If youe will have a joyfull pilgrimage 65 
 
 Youe muste be warie pilgrims in the waye, 
 
 Youe muste not truste eache glozinge flatteringe vaine; 
 
 Ofte when the sunn shins bright it straight will raine. 
 
 Consorte not in the waye with graceless boys. 
 
 That feede the taverne with theire idle coyne 70 
 
 Till their leane purses starve at last for foode. 
 
 O why shoulde schoUers by unthriftiness 
 
 Seeke to weaken theire owne poore estate! 
 
 Let schoUers be as thriftie as they maye. 
 
 They will be poore ere theire last dyinge daye; 75 
 
 Leaminge and povertie will ever kiss. 
 
 Each carter caries fortune by his side. 
 
 But fortune will with schoUers nere abide. 
 
 Eschew all lozell, lazie, loiteringe gromes. 
 
 All foggie sleepers and all idle lumps, 80 
 
 ' joints ? 
 
 B a 
 
4 %lt ^ilffvimage [ach. 
 
 That doe burne out theire base inglorious days 
 
 Without or frute or joye of theire loste time. 
 
 Let lazie grill snorte till the midst of the day, 
 
 Be you industrious pilgrims in the way. 
 
 There is another sorte of smooth-faced youthes, 85 
 
 Those Amorettoes that doe spend theire time 
 
 In comminge of their smother-dangled heyre, 
 
 The^ court a lookinge glass from morne till nighte. 
 
 Theise would entise youe to some curtezan, 
 
 And tell youe tales of itchinge venerie ; 9° 
 
 But let not theire entisemente cause youre falls, 
 
 Esteeme them as faire, rotten, painted walls. 
 
 Nore will I have you truste each rugged browe, 
 
 Each simple-seeminge mate, cache hearie chin ; 
 
 Crafte ofte in suche plaine cottages doth in[n]. 95 
 
 Associate yourselvs with studious youthes, 
 
 That, as Catullus saith, devours the waye 
 
 That leads to Parnassus where co ntent doth d well. 
 
 Happie I wish maye be youre pilgrimage! 
 
 Joyfull maye youe returne from that faire hill, 100 
 
 And make the vallies heare with admiration 
 
 Those songs which youre refined tounge shall singe. 
 
 But what? doe I prolong my studious speache, 
 
 Hindringe the forwarde hastninge of youre steps? 
 
 Goe happilie with a swifte swallowes winge 105 
 
 To Hellicon faire, that pure and happie springe! 
 
 Returne triumphant with your laurell boughes, 
 
 With Phoebus' trees decke youre deservinge brows! 
 
 Haste, haste with speed unto that hallowed well ! 
 
 Soe take from mee a lovinge, longe farewell. no 
 
 Philom. Farewell, good father ! and youre counsell sage 
 Be my safe guide in this my pilgrimage! 
 
 Stud. Farewell, good uncle! and youre wise-said says 
 Keepe mee from devious and by-wandringe wayes! 
 
 ' i?«arf'That.' 
 
Acti.J to ^attia!2(0u0» 5 
 
 Consil. Farewell ! Farewell ! to parte with youe is paine, 
 But haste! let not the sunn-lighte burne in vain! ii6 
 
 Philom. Come, Studioso, shall wee gett us gone? 
 Thinks thou cure softe and tender feet canne bide 
 To trace this roughe, this harsh, this craggie waye 
 That leadeth unto faire Parnassus' hill? 120 
 
 Stud. Why, man ! each lazie groome will take the paine 
 To drawe his slowe feete ore the clayie lande, 
 Soe he maye reste upon a faire greene banke. 
 Theise pilgrims feete, which nowe take wearie toile, 
 Male one day on a bedd of roses rest 125 
 
 Amidst Parnassus' shadie laurell greene. 
 
 Philom. But cann we hit this narowe curious waye, 
 Where are such by wayes and erronious paths? 
 Saye, whate the firste ile wee muste travell in? 129 
 
 Stud. The firste lande that wee muste travell in (as that 
 oulde Herrnite toulde me) is Logique. I have gotten Jack 
 Seton's mapp to directe us through this cuntrie. This 
 island is, accordinge to his discription, muche like Wales, 
 full of craggie mountaines and thornie vallies. There are 
 twoo robbers in this cuntrie caled genus and species, that take 
 captive everie true mans invention that come by them ; 
 Pacius in his returne from Parnassus hadd beene robt 
 by these twoo forresters, but for one Carterus a lustie club- 
 man, muche like the PinderofWakfield, that defended him. 
 
 Philom. Come let us jorney on with winged pace ; 140 
 Rough way shall not dismay our studious mindes. 
 Let us then hasten to our wished port, 
 Longe is our jorney and the way^ is short. 
 Then, Phoebus, guide us to thy Hellicon, 
 And when our ruder pipes are taught to singe 145 
 
 The eccoinge wood with thy praise shall ringe. 
 
 ' Read ' day' ? 
 
6 %^e i@ilffn'mage [achi. 
 
 ACTUS II!^^. 
 Enter Madido alone, reading Horace Epistles. 
 
 Modi. O poeet Horace! if thou were alive T woulde 
 bestowe a cupp of sacke on thee for theise liquid verses f 
 theise are not drie rimes like Cato's, Si deus est animus, 
 but the true moist issue of a poeticall soule. O if the 
 tapsters and drawers knewe what thou sayest in the 
 commendacon of takinge of liquoure, they would score 
 up thy prayses upon everie bjjt and barrell ; and, in faith, 
 I care not if I doe for the benefite of the unlearned 
 bestowe some of my English poetrie uppon thy Latin 
 rimes, that this Romane tonge maye noe longer outface 
 ^" our poore Englishe skinkers. He onlie rouse up my muse 
 out of her den with this liquid sacrifice, and then, have 
 
 he drinks amongste youe, poets and rimers ! The common people will 
 now thinke I did drincke, and did nothinge but conferr 
 with the ghostes of Homer, Ennius, Virgill, and they ^ rest 
 
 ^Horac^s *^^* dwell in this watterie region. Marke, marke! here 
 
 verses springs a poeticall partridge! Zouns! I want a worde 
 
 ^ miserablely! I must looke for another worde in my dic- 
 
 tionarie ; I shall noe sooner open this pinte pott but the 
 
 he drinks Yvorde like a knave tapster will crie, Anon, Anon, Sir I 
 Ey marye Sir ! nowe I am fitt to write a book ! Woulde 
 anie leaden Mydas, anie mossie patron, have his asses 
 ears deified, let him but come and give mee some prettie 
 sprinkling to maintaine the expences of my throate, and 
 He dropp out suche an encomium on him that shall imor- 
 talize him as long as there is ever a booke-binder in 
 
 he trans- Englande. But I had forgotten my frind Horace. Take 
 not in snuffe (my prettie verses !) if I turne you out of 
 youre Romane coate into an Englishe gaberdine. 175 
 
Act II.] to |@ai;nag(s(us<» 7 
 
 [Enter Philomusus and Studioso.] 
 
 Philom. In faith, Madido, thy poetrie is good; 
 Some gallant Genius doth possess thy corps. 
 
 Stud. I think a furie ravisheth thy braine, 
 Thou art in such a sweet phantasticke vaine. 
 But tell mee, shall wee have thy companie iSo 
 
 Throughe this craggie ile, this harsh rough waye.' 
 Wilt thou be pilgrime to Parnassus' hill? 
 
 Madi. I had rather be a horse to griride in mill. 
 Zouns! Itravell to Parnassus? I tell thee its not a pilgrim- 
 age for good wits. Let slowe-brainde Athenians travell 
 thither, those drie sober youths which can away to reede 
 dull lives, fustie philosophers, dustie logicians. lie turne 
 home, and write that that others shall reade ; posteritie 
 shall make them large note books out of my writings. 
 Naye, there is another thinge that makes mee out of love 
 with this jorney ; there is scarce a good taverne or ale- 
 house betwixte this and Parnassus ; why, a poeticall spirit 
 muste needs starve 1 
 
 Philom. Naye, when thou comes to high Parnassus' hill 
 Of Hellicons pure stream drincke thou thy fill. 195 
 
 Stud. There Madido may-quaff the poets boule, 
 And satisfie his thirstie dryed soule. 
 
 Madi. Nay, if I drinke of that pudled water of Hellicon 
 in the companie of leane Lenten shadowes, let mee for a 
 punishement converse with single beare soe long as I live ! 
 This Parnassus and Hellicon are but the fables of the 
 poets : there is noe true Parnassus but the third lofte in a 
 wine taverne, noe true Hellicon but a cup of browne bastard. 
 Will youe travell quicklie to Parnassus? doe but carie 
 youre drie feet into some drie taverne, and straight the 
 drawer will bid youe to goe into the Halfe Moone or the 
 Rose, that is into Parnassus ; then call for a cup of pure 
 Hellicon, and he will bringe youe a cup of pure hypocrise, 
 
8 '2ri)« pilgrimage [achi. 
 
 that will make youe speake leapinge lines and dauncinge 
 periodes. Why, give mee but a quart of bui'nt sacke by 
 mee, and if I doe not with a pennie worth of candles make 
 a better poeme then Kinsaders Satyrs^ Lodge's Fig for 
 Momus, Bastard's ^/z^ra/;^^, Leichfild's Trimming of Nask, 
 lie give my heade to anie good felowe to make a memento 
 mori of I O the genius of xij'^! A quart will indite manic 
 livelie lines in an houre, while an ould drousie Academicke, 
 an old Stigmaticke, an ould sober Dromeder, toiles a- whole 
 month and often scratcheth his witts' head for the bringinge 
 of one miserable period into the worlde ! If therefore you 
 be good felowes or wise felowes, travell noe farther in the 
 craggie way to the fained Parnassus ; returne whome with 
 mee, and wee will hire our studies in a taverne, and ere 
 longe not a poste in Paul's churchyarde but shall be 
 acquainted with our writings. 224 
 
 Philom. Nay then, I see thy wit in drincke is drounde ; 
 Wine doth the beste parte of thy soule confounde. 
 
 Stud. Let Parnass be a fond phantasticke place. 
 Yet to Parnassus lie hould on my pace. 
 But tell mee, Madido, how camest thou to this ile? 229 
 
 Madi. Well, lie tell yque ; and then see if the phisicke 
 of good counsel will worke upon youre bodies. I tooke 
 shippinge at Qui mihi discipulus, and sailed to Propria 
 quae maribus ; then came to As in praesenti, but with great 
 danger, for there are certaine people in this cuntrie caled 
 schoolmaisters, that take passingers and sit all day whippinge 
 pence out of there tayls ; these men tooke mee prisoner, 
 and put to death at leaste three hundred rodes upon my 
 backe. Henc traveled I into the land of Sintaxis, a land 
 full of joyners, and from thenc came I to Prosodia, a litell 
 iland, where are men of 6 feete longe, which were never 
 mentioned in Sir John Mandefilde's cronicle. Hence did I 
 set up my unluckie feete in this ile Dialectica, where I can 
 
Act III.] to parna00u0, 9 
 
 see nothinge but ideefe and phantasmes ; as soone as I came 
 hither I began to reade Ramus his mapp, Dialectica est 
 &c. ; then the slovenHe knave presented mee with such an 
 unsavorie worde that I dare not name it unless I had some 
 frankensence readie to perfume youre noses with after. 
 Upon this I threw away the mapp in a chafe, and came 
 home, cursing my witless head that woulde suffer my head- 
 less feete to take such a tedious journey. 250 
 
 Philom. The harder and the craggier is the waye 
 The joy will be more full another day. 
 Ofte pleaslire got with paine wee dearlie deeme ; 
 Things dearlie boughte are had in great esteeme. 
 
 Modi. Come on, Come on, TuUie's sentences! Leave 
 youre pulinge of prouerbs, and hearken to him that knowes 
 whats good for youe. If you have anie care of youre eyes, 
 blinde them not with goinge to Parnassus ; if you love youre 
 feete, blister them not in this craggie waye. Staie with 
 mee, and one pinte of wine shall inspire youe with more 
 witt than all they nine muses. Come on ! lie lead you 
 to a merie companie ! 
 
 Stud. Fie, Philomusus! 'gin thy loitringe feet 
 To faint and tire in this so faire a waie? 
 Each marchant for a base inglorious prize 265 
 
 Fears not with ship to plowe the ocean ; 
 And shall not wee for learnings glorious meede 
 To Parnass hast with swallowe-winged speede ? 
 
 Philom. Studio. Stupido. 
 
 Philom. I'faithe, Studioso, I was almost wonne 
 To cleave unto yonder wett phantasticke crewe 1 3>/o 
 
 I see the pinte pott is an oratoure! 
 The burnt sacke made a sweet oration 
 
lo %^t pilgrimaffe [Actin. 
 
 Againste Appollo and his followers; 
 
 Discourste howe schollers unregarded walke, 
 
 Like threedbare impecunious animals, '75 
 
 Whiles servinge men doe swagger it in silks, 
 
 And each earth-creepinge peasant russet-coate 
 
 Is in requeste for his well-lined pouche : 
 
 Tolde us howe this laborious pilgrimage 
 
 Is wonte to eate mens marrowes, drye there bloude, a8o 
 
 And make them seem leane shadowles pale ghostes. 
 
 This counsell made mee have a staggeringe minde, 
 
 Untill I sawe there beastlie bezolinge. 
 
 There drowned soules, there idle meriment, 
 
 Voyde of sounde solace and true hartes content : 285 
 
 And now I love my pilgrimage the more, 
 
 I love the Muses better than before. 
 
 But tell mee, what lande do wee travell in? 
 
 Mee thinks it is a pleasante fertile soile. 
 
 Stud. Let idle tongues talke of our tedious waye, 290 
 I never sawe a more delicious earth, 
 A smoother pathwaye, or a sweeter ayre. 
 Then liere is in this lande of Rhetorique. 
 Hearke howe the birds delight the moving ayre 
 With prettie tunefull notes and artless lays ! 295 
 
 Harke shrill Don Cicero, how sweete he sings! 
 See how the groves wonder at his sweet note. 
 And listen unto theire sweet nightingale! 
 Harken how Muretus, Bembus, Sadolet, 
 Haddon and Ascham, chirpe theire prettie notes, 300 
 And too good ears make tunefull melodie! 
 Theire chirping doth delight each mounte, each dale, 
 Thoughe not so sweet as Tullie's nightingale. 
 
 Philom. Indeed I like theire sugred harmonie ; 
 I like this grassie diapred greene earth. 305 
 
 Heare tender feete maye travell a whole daye, 
 And heare with joy the aerye people's laye. 
 
Act III.] to ^arna0g(u0» n 
 
 Enter Stupido. 
 But who is yonder? Stupido I see! 
 The earth hath ten times binne disrobbed quite 
 Of Tier greene gowne and flowrie coveringe, , 310 
 
 Since Stupido began his' pilgrimage 
 Unto the place where those nine Muses dwell; 
 And now our swifter feet have overtooke him ! 
 
 Stud. It is not our swifte feet but his slowe pace, 
 That makes us overtake him in this race. 315 
 
 He interrupt his graver meditations, 
 Kindlie salutinge my friende Stupido. 
 Well overtaken, M"^ Stupido! 
 I hope wee shall have youre good companie 
 To travell, and directe us in the waye 320 
 
 That leads us to that laureat twoo-topt mounte. 
 
 Stup. Welcome, my welbeloved brethren ! trulie (I 
 thank God for it ! ) I have spent this day to my great 
 comfort. I have (I pray God prosper my labours !) 
 analised a peece of an hommelie according to Ramus;, 
 and surelie in my minde and simple opinion M' Peter 
 maketh all things verie plaine and easie. As for Setons 
 Logique, trulie I never looke on it but it makes my head 
 ache ! And now not having anie serious business to goe 
 aboute, least the bad-disposed people shoulde corrupte and 
 contaminate my pure thoughts by there ungodlie con- 
 versations, I am goinge abroad to take the benefite of the 
 aire, and contemplate, whiles they play the reprobate at 
 home, some persecutinge poore creaturs, cattes, others 
 spendinge theire moste precious time in card plaie. But 
 whither are you going.? to Parnassus? 336 
 
 Stud. Eye! and wee hope to have youre companie. 
 
 Stup. You speake like a younge man indeede ! I have 
 beene to vaine and forwarde this way, but now that I am 
 come into this Rketorique, and see the follie of theise 
 
la f^^z ^ilgn'map [achii. 
 
 vaine artes, I will not travell a foot further. I have 
 a good man to my uncle, that never wore capp nor surples 
 in his life, nor anie suche popishe ornament, who sent mee 
 yesterday a letter and this maildition, and a frize coate 
 for a token, and the same counsell that he gave mee I, 
 as I am bounde in charitie, will give you. ' Studie not 
 these vaine arts of Rlietorique, Poetrie and Philosophic ; 
 there is noe sounde edifying knowledg in them.' Why, 
 they are more vaine than a paire of organs or a morrice . 
 daunce ! If you will be good men indeede, goe no further 
 in this way; follow noe longer these profane artes that 
 are the raggs and parings of learning ; sell all these books, 
 and by a good Martin, and twoo or three hundreth of 
 chatechismcs of Jeneva's , printe, and I warrant you will 
 have learning enoughe. M"^ Martin and other good men 
 tooke this course. 356' 
 
 Philom. Are then the artes foolish, profane and vaine. 
 That gotten are with studie, .toile and paine? 
 
 Stud. Artistes belike then are phantastique fools. 
 That learne these artes in the laborious schools. 360 
 
 Stup. Artistes, fools; and that you may knowe by 
 there undecent apparell. Why, you shall not see a Rhe- 
 torician, a rimer (as^ poet as you call it) but he wears such 
 diabolicall ruffs and wicked great breeches full of sin, that 
 it would make a zelous professor's harte bleed for grife. 
 Well, M' Wigginton and M' Penorie never wore such pro- 
 fane hose, but such plaine apparell as I doe. Goe with 
 mee, and you shall heare a good man exercise. I will 
 get him to handle for youre better direction this pointe 
 by the way ; I would gladlie doe some good of you if I 
 coulde. 371 
 
 Philom. I' faith, etc. 
 
 Stup. O sweare not, sweare not! 
 
 ' Read 'or.' 
 
Act IV.] to ^aarnagiiSUiS, 13 
 
 Stud. With thee, my loving Stupido, weele wende, 
 And to thy counsell listning ears will I'ende. 375 
 
 Stup. Folowe mee; He bringe youe into a sober 
 companie. 
 
 AC1VS 4'^'-^- 
 Enter Amoretto alone, reading these 2 verses out of Ovid. 
 
 Amor. Oscula qui sumpsit, qui non et coetera sumpsit, 
 Oscula quae sumpsit perdere dignus erat; 
 Who takes a kiss and leaves to doe the rest, 380 
 
 Doth take the worse and doth neglect the beste. 
 Zouns ! What an honest animal was I 
 To part with my Corinna with a kiss! 
 Yet doe I wronge her devine tempting lipps 
 To name her kiss with noe more reverence. 385 
 
 One touch of her sweete nectar-breathinge mouth 
 Would ravishe senceless Cinicks with delight, 
 And make them homage doe at Venus' shrine. 
 All books are dull which speake not of her praise ; 
 Hange ploddinge doultes, and all there dulled race! 390 
 True learninge dwels in her faire beautuous face. 
 I love thee, Ovid, for Corinna's sake, 
 Thou loves, Corinna, as turtle loves her make. 
 Of my Corinnaes haire love makes his nett 
 To captivate poore mortall wandringe hartes. 395 
 
 Love keeps his revels in Corinna's browes, 
 Daunces levaltoes in her speaking eye, 
 Dyes and is buried in her dimpled cheeke. 
 Revives and quickens in her cherie lipps, 
 Keeps watch and warde in her faire snowie chin 400 
 That noe roughe swaine approach or enter in. 
 Loves cradle is betwixte her rising brest, 
 Her[e] sucking Cupid feedes and takes his rest. 
 
14 %\it pilgn'mafft [achv. 
 
 Touch not her mount of joy! it is devine; 
 
 There Cupid grazes or els he would pine. 405 
 
 Expect, the world, my poesie ere longe, 
 
 Where He commende her daintie quivering thighe, 
 
 Sing of her foot in my sweet minstralsie. 
 
 Enier PHIL, and Studioso. 
 But who comes yonder? Philomusus and Studioso! 
 I saw them latelie in the companie 4'° 
 
 Of stricte Stupido, that pulinge puritane, 
 A moving peece of clay, a speaking ass, 
 A walking image and a senceless stone! 
 If they be of his humor I care not, I, 
 For such pure honest-seeminge companie. 4' 5 
 
 Philom. Fye, Studioso! what nowe almost caught 
 By Stupido, that plodding puritane, 
 That artless ass, and that earth-creeping dolt, 
 Who, for he cannot reach unto the artes. 
 Makes showe as though he would neglect the artes, 430 
 And cared not for the springe of Hellicon? 
 
 Stud. Who can resist seeminge devotion. 
 Or them that are of the reformed world? 
 A flintie harte muste needes relent to see 
 A puritane up-twinckling of his eye, 425 
 
 Muche like a man newlie cast in a traunce. 
 Or hke a cuntrie fellowe in a daunce. 
 
 Philom. Eye! these doe norishe a neglected bearde. 
 Much like a grunting keeper of a hearde ; 
 Speake but a fewe wordes, because the[y] would seeme 
 
 wise ; 
 Weare but a plaine coate after the wonted guise. 430 
 Thou owest mee thanks, for but for mee I wis 
 Thou hadest beene a plaine puritane ere this ! 
 
 Stud. I kept thee, Philomusus, from moiste Madido; 
 Thou savest mee latelie from dull Stupido. 435 
 
Act IV.] to ^avna00u0. 15 
 
 Amor. And are they parted from strict Stupido? 
 Then are they fit for my societie! 
 
 What, Philomusus and Studioso ! well met in faith in the 
 land of poetrie ! how doe you away with this aire ? 
 
 Philom. Well met, Amoretto! I did longe 440 
 
 To meet some poet of a pleasante tounge. 
 
 Stud. It argueth the goodnes of the aire 
 Because here breathes full mania a cruell faire! 
 
 Philom. Indeede this lande hath manie a wanton nymphe 
 That knowes alwayes all sportfull daUiance. 445 
 
 Here are soe manie pure brighte shininge starrs. 
 That Cynthiaes want theire faire Endimions 
 Wherewith to pass away the loittring nighte ; 
 Here are Corinnaes, but here Ovids wante. 
 "Saye, will you staye with mee in poetrie? 450 
 
 Why shoulde you vainelie spende your bloominge age 
 In sadd dull plodding on philosophers, 
 Which was ordained for wantone merrimentes? 
 
 Stud. Yea, but our springe is shorte and winter longe : 
 Our youth by travelling to Hellicon 455 
 
 Must gett provision for our latter years. 
 
 Amor. Who thinks on winter before winter come 
 Maks winter come in sommers fairest shine. 
 There is noe golden minte at Hellicon ! 
 Cropp you the joyes of youth while that you maye, 460 
 Sorowe and grife will come another daye. 
 
 Philom. I alwayes was sworne Venus' servitoure ; 
 I have a wantone eye for a faire wenche. 
 Hee is noe man but a rude senceless ass 
 That doth not for refined beautie pass. 465 
 
 Perswade thou Studioso if thou can, 
 And He be Cupides loyall duteous man. 
 
 Stud. I am not suche a peece of Cinicke earthe 
 That I neglect sweete beauties deitie. 
 
i6 %^t ^©ilffrimage. [Activ. 
 
 I reverence Venus, and her carpet knights 470 
 
 That in that wanton warfarre weare theire lipps : 
 Yet loth I am our pilgrimage to staye 
 In wanton dalliance and in looser playe. 
 
 Amor. Tushe ! talk not of youre purposed pilgrimage, 
 Nor doe forsake this poets' pleasant lande 475 
 
 To treade upon philosophers' harshe grounde. 
 Taste but the joyes that poetrie afifordes, 
 And youle all crabbed solaceis forsweare^ 
 He bringe you to sweet wantoninge yonge maides 
 Wheare you shall all youre hungrie sences feaste, 480 
 That they, grow[n]e proude with this felicitie, 
 Shall afterwarde all maner object scorne. 
 Nor are they puling maides, or curious nuns 
 That strictlie stande upon virginitie; 
 Theile freelie give what ere youre luste shall crave, 485 
 And make you melte in Venus' surquerie. 
 These joyes, and more, sweete poetrie afifordes: 
 Let not youre headless feete forsake this lande 
 Till you have tasted of this joyisance. 
 Come to my sweet Corinna! He you bringe, 490 
 
 And bless youe with a touch of her softe li^ps. 
 Then shall you have the choice of earthlie starrs 
 That shine on earth as Cynthia in her skye; 
 There maye youe melte with soiled sweet delighte, 
 And taste the joyes of the darke gloomie night. 49s 
 
 Stud. Well said the poet that a wantone speache 
 Like dallyinge fingers tickles up the luste. 
 Chast thoughtes can lodge no longer in that soule 
 That lendes an eare to wantone poesie. 
 Well, He staye somwhat longer in this lande 500 
 
 To cropp those joyes that Amoretto speakes of. 
 If in them anie sounde contente I finde. 
 He leave Parnassus waye that is behinde. 
 
Act v.] to ^artia00u0* 17 
 
 Philom. Let not thenvious time hinder that joye 
 That wee shall tast in this thy poetrie; 505 
 
 Luste is impatient of all slack delaye. 
 Come, Amoretto, lette's noe longer staye: 
 Phoebus hath laid his golden tressed locks 
 In the moist cabinet of Thetis' lapp ; 
 Now shadie night hath dispossest the daye, 510 
 
 Providing time for maides to sporte and playe. 
 
 Amor. Come haste with mee unto faire beauties 
 beddes, 
 On Venus' pillow shall you laye youre heades. 
 
 Philom. Luste's wonte to ride on a faire winged steede. 
 
 Stud. Noe marvel!, when he lookes for suche a meede. 
 
 ACTUS Z"^. 
 Philomusus. Studioso. 
 
 Stud. Howe sourelie sweete is meltinge venerie! 516 
 It yealdeth honie, but it straighte doth stinge. 
 I'le nere hereafter counsell chaster thoughtes 
 To travell through this lande of poetrie. 
 Here are entisinge pandars, subtile baudes, 52° 
 
 Catullus, Ovid, wantone Martiall. 
 Heare them whilest a lascivious tale they tell, 
 Theile make thee fitt in Shorditche for to dwell, 
 Here had wee nighe made shipwracke of our youthe, 
 And nipte the blossomes of our buddinge springe! 525 
 Yet are wee scaped frome poetrie's faire baites. 
 And sett our footinge in philosophie. 
 
 Philom. Noe soure reforminge enimye of arte 
 Coulde doe delightfuU poetrie more wronge 
 Than thy unwarie sliperie tongue hath done. 530 
 
 C 
 
i8 .(^^z pUsvimast [Act v. 
 
 Are these the thankes thou givest for her mirthe 
 
 Wherewith shee did make shorte thy pilgrim's waye, 
 
 Made monthes seeme minutes spente in her faire soile? 
 
 O doe not wronge this musicke of the soule, 
 
 The fairest childe that ere the soule broughte foorthe, 
 
 Which none contemn but some rude foggie squires 536 
 
 That knowe not to esteeme of witt or arte! 
 
 Noe epitaphe adorne his baser hearse 
 
 That in his lifetime cares not for a verse! 
 
 Nor thinke Catullus, Ovid, Martiall, 540 
 
 Doe teache a chaste minde lewder luxuries. 
 
 Indeede if leachers reade a wantone clause, 
 
 It tickles up each lustfull impure vaine; 
 
 But who reades poets with a chaster minde 
 
 Shall nere infected be by poesie. 545 
 
 An honest man that nere did stande in sheete 
 
 Maye chastlie dwell in unchaste Shordiche streete. 
 
 Take this from mee ; a well disposed minde 
 
 Shall noe potato rootes in poets finde. 
 
 Siud. I doe not whet my tongue againste poetrie, 
 Yet maye youe give a looser leave to talke. 551 
 
 Longe have wee loitred idle in [t]his lande, 
 Her joyes made us unmindfull of our waie. 
 Our feet are growne too tender and unapte 
 To travell in the roughe philosophic. 555 
 
 Nowe cheare thyselfe in this laborious facte, 
 Nor like a sluggarde fainte in the laste acte. 
 
 Philom. Indeede, the pleasure poetrie did yelde 
 Made further harshnes to philosophic ; 
 Yet havinge skilfull Aristotle our guide 560 " 
 
 I hope wee soone shall end our pilgrimage. 
 
 Enter Ingenioso. 
 
 Ingen. A plague on youe, Javel, Toilet, Tartare 1 
 they have poysned mee with there breathes! 
 
Act v.] to ^arna'00u0» 19 
 
 Philom. Why, how nowe, Ingenioso, shewinge philo- 
 sophic a faire paire of heeles? 5^5 
 
 Stud. Why, whiter nowe in a chafe, Ingenioso?, 
 
 Ingen. What, Philomusus and Studioso ? well met, ould 
 schoolefelowes ! I have beene guiltie of mispending some 
 time in philosophic, and nowe, growinge wiser, I begin to 
 forsake this cuntrie as faste as I can ; and can youe blame 
 mee? whie, I have bene almoste stifled with the breath 
 of three Barbarians, Toilet, Javel, Tartarett. They stande 
 fearefullie gapinge, and everye one of them a fustie, moulie 
 worde in his mouthe that's able to breede a plague in 
 a pure aire; they breede suche an ayre as is wonte to 
 proceede from an evaporatinge dunghill in a summer's 
 daye. But what doe youe twoo here, in this griggie bar- 
 barous cuntrie? 
 
 Philom. Wee pilgrims are unto Parnassus hill, 
 At Hellicon wee meane to drinke our fill. 580 
 
 Ingen. What, goe soe farr to fetche water? goe to 
 Parnassus to converse with ragged innocentes ? If youe be 
 wise and meane to live, come not there ; Parnassus is out 
 of silver pitifuUie, pitifullie. I talked with a frende of mine 
 that latelie gave his horse a bottell of haye at the bottome 
 of the hill, who toulde mee that Apollo had sente to Pluto 
 to borowe twentie nobles to paye his commons : he added 
 further, that hee met comming downe from the hill a 
 companie of ragged vicars and forlorne schoolemaisters, who 
 as they walked scrached there unthriftie elbowes, and often 
 putt there bandes into there unpeopled pockets, that had 
 not beene possessed with faces this manie a day. There, 
 one stoode digginge for golde in a standishe ; another look- 
 ing ■ for cockpence in the bottome of a pue ; the third 
 towling for silver in a belfree : but they were never soe 
 happie as Esope's cocke, to fiinde a' precious stone : nay, 
 they coulde scarce get enoughe to apparell there heade in 
 
 C % 
 
ao %^t pi'lffr im age [Act v. 
 
 an unlined hatt, there bodie in a frize jerkin, and there feet 
 in clouted paire of shoes. Come not there, seeke for 
 povertie noe further ; it's too farr to goe to Parnassus to 
 fetche repentance. 6oi 
 
 Philom. Thoughe I foreknowe that doults possess the 
 goulde, • 
 Yet my intended pilgrimage I'le houlde. 
 
 Stud. Within Parnassus dwells all sweete contente. 
 Nor care I for those excrements of earthe. 605 
 
 Ingen. Call youe gold and silver the excrements of 
 earthe? If those be excrements, I am the cleanest man 
 upon the earth, for I seldome sweate goulde. 
 
 Philom. Yes, they are excrements ; and henc a man 
 that wants money is caled a cleane gentleman. 610 
 
 Ingen. If that be to be cleane, then the water of 
 HelHcon will quicklie make youe cleane : it is an excellent 
 good thinge to make a man impecunious. 
 
 Stud. Come, shall wee have youre companie on the 
 waye? 614 
 
 Ingen. What, I travell to Parnassus ? why, I have burnt 
 my bookes, splitted my pen, rent my papers, and curste the 
 cooseninge harts that brought mee up to noe better fortune. 
 I, after manie years studie, havinge almoste. brought my 
 braine into a consumption, looking still when I shoulde 
 meete with some good Maecenas that liberallie would rewarde 
 my deserts, I fed soe long upon hope, till I had almoste 
 starved. Why, our emptie-handed sattine sutes doe make 
 more account of some foggie faulkner than of a wittie 
 schoUer, had rather rewarde a man for setting of a hayre 
 than a man of wit for makinge of a poeme ; cache long- 
 eared ass rides on his trappinges, and thinkes it sufRciente 
 to give a schoUer a majesticke nodd with his rude nodle. 
 Goe to Parnassus? Alas, Apollo is banckroute, there is 
 nothing but silver words and golden phrases for a man ; 
 
") 
 
 Actv.] to i©arna00u0* 21 
 
 his followers wante the goulde, while tapsters, ostlers, 
 carters and coblers have a fominge pauch, a belchinge bagg, 
 that serves for a cheare of est[ate] for regina pecunia. 
 1 Seest thou not my hoste Johns of the Crowne, who latelie 
 lived like- a moule 6 years under the grounde in a cellar, 
 and cried Anon, Anon, Sir, now is mounted upon a horse 
 of twentie' marke, and thinkes the earth too base to beare 
 the waighte of his refined bodie. Why, woulde it not greeve 
 a man of a good spirit to see Hobson finde more money in the 
 tayles of la jades than a scholler in 300 bookes? Why, 
 Newman the cobler will leave large legacies to his haires 
 while the posteritie of humanissimi auditores, and esse 
 posse videaturs must be faine to be kept by the parishel 
 Turne home againe, unless youe meane to be vacui via- 
 tores, and to curse youre wittless heades in youre oulde age 
 for takinge themselves to no better trades in there youthe. 
 
 Stud. Cease to spende more of thy id[l]e breathe, 
 Effecting to divert us from our waye. 647 
 
 I knowe that schollers commonlie be poore, 
 And that the dull worlde there good parts neglecte. 
 A scholler's coate is plaine, lowlie his gate; 650 
 
 Contente consists not in the highest degree. 
 
 Philom. I thinke not worse of faire Parnassus' hill 
 For that it wants that sommer's golden clay, 
 The idol of the foxfur'd usurer. 
 
 Though it wants coyne it wants not true contente, 655 
 True solace, or true happie merrimente. . 
 If thou will weende with us, plucke up thy feete ; 
 If not, farewell, till next time wee doe meete. 
 
 Ingen. Farewell, and take heede I take youe not 
 napping twentie years henc in a viccar's seate, asking for 
 the white cowe with the blacke foote, or els interpretinge 
 pueriles confdbulationes to a companie of seaven-yeare- 
 olde apes. 663 
 
Philom. Farewell, Ingenioso, and take heede I finde not 
 a ballet or a pamphlet of thy makinge. 665 
 
 Stud. Come, Philomusus, chearfullie let's warke; 
 Our toiling day will have a night to rest, 
 Where wee shall thinke with joy on labors past. 
 Leade on apace; Parnassus is at hande; 
 Nowe wee have almost paste this wearie lande. 670 
 
 Enter Dromo, drawing a clowne in with <? rope. 
 
 Cfowne. What now? thrust a man into the common- 
 wealth whether hee will or noe? what the devill should 
 I doe here ? 
 
 Dromo. Why, what an ass art thou ! dost thou not 
 knowe a playe cannot be without a clowne ? Clownes have 
 bene thrust into playes by head and shoulders ever since 
 Kempe could make a scurvey face ; and therefore reason 
 thou shouldst be drawne in with a cart-rope. 678 
 
 Clowne. But what must I doe nowe? 
 
 Dromo. Why, if thou canst but drawe thy mouth awrye, 
 laye thy legg over thy staffe, sawe a peece of cheese 
 asunder with thy dagger, lape up drinke on the earth, I 
 warrant thee theile laughe mightilie. Well, I'le turne thee 
 loose to them ; ether sale somwhat for thy selfe, or hang 
 and be non plus. \Exit. 
 
 Clowne. This is fine, y-faith ! nowe, when they have noe- 
 bodie to leave on the stage, they bringe mee up, and, which 
 is worse, tell mee not what I shoulde saye ! Gentles, I dare 
 sale youe looke for a fitt of mirthe. I'le therfore present 
 unto you a proper newe love-letter of mine to the tune of 
 Put on the smock 0' Mundaye, which in the heate of my 
 charitie I pende ; and thus it begins : — 692 
 
 ' O my lovely Nigra, pittie the paine of my liver ! That 
 litell gallowes Cupid hath latelie prickt mee in the breech 
 
Actv.] to ^artta00u0» 33 
 
 with his great pin, and almoste kilde mee thy woodcocke 
 with his birdbolte. Thou hast a prettie furrowed forheade, 
 a fine leacherous eye; methinks I see the bawde Venus 
 keeping a bawdie house in thy lookes, Cupid standing hke 
 a pandar at the doore of thy lipps.' 699 
 
 How Hke you, maisters ? has anie yonge man a desire to 
 copie this, that he may have formam epistolae conscribendae ? 
 Now if I could but make a fine scurvey face, I were a 
 kinge ! O nature, why didest thou give mee soe good a 
 looke ? 704 
 
 Dromo. Give us a voyder here for the foole ! Sirra, you 
 muste begone ; here are other men that will supplie the 
 roome. 
 
 Clowne. Why, shall I not whistle out my whistle ? Then 
 farewell, gentle auditors, and the next time you see mee 
 I'le make you better sporte. 710 
 
 Philom. Nowe ends the travell. of one tedious daye. 
 In 4 years have wee paste this wearie waye. 
 Nowe are wee at the foote of this steepe hill. 
 Where straght our tired feet shall rest there fill. 
 
 Stud. Seest thou how yonder laurell shadie grove 
 Is greene in spite of frostie Boreas, 716 
 
 Scorninge his roughe blasts and ungentle breath 
 That makes all trees mourne in a mossye ragg? 
 Nere let the pilgrims to this laurell mounte 
 Fainte, or retire in this theire pilgrimage, 720 
 
 Through the misleading of some amorous boye. 
 Some swearinge unthrifte, or some blockishe dolte, 
 Or throughe the counsell of some wilie knave. 
 Nowe let us boldlie rushe amonge theese trees, 
 And heare the Muses' tunefull harmonic. 725 
 
»4 %le ^Usvimase to ^©arnasf^ujS* [Actv. 
 
 Philom. Let vulgar witts admire the common songes, 
 rie lie with Phoebus by the Muses' springes, 
 Where wee will sit free from all envie's rage, 
 And scorne eache earthlie Gullio of this age. 
 
 Stud. Haste hither all good witts, with winged speede, , 
 Where youre faire browes shall have a laureat meedel 
 And youe that love the Muses' deitie 
 Give our extemporall showe the PlauditeX 733 
 
THE 
 
 RETURNE FROM PARNASSUS. 
 
 3ctots. 
 
 CONSILIODORUS. DRAPER ) 
 
 pHiLOMUsifs. Tayler \ '°^s"»en. 
 
 Studioso. Simson, an inne keeper. 
 
 INGENIOSO. Parcevall, a clowne. 
 
 LUXURIOSO. Boy unto Luxurioso. 
 
 GULLIO. Boy unto Studioso. 
 Leonarde, a carier. 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 "Gentle"— 
 
 Stage Keeper. Howe gentle? saye, youe cringinge 
 parasite, 
 That scrapinge legg, that doppinge curtisie, 
 That fawninge bowe, those sycophant's smoothe tearmes, 
 Gained our stage muche favoure, did they not? 
 Surelie it made our poet a staide man, 6 
 
 Kepte his proude necke from baser lambskins weare, 
 Had like to have made him senior sophister. 
 He was faine to take his course by Germanie 
 Ere he coulde gett a silie poore degree. 
 Hee never since durst name a peece of cheese, lo 
 
 Thoughe Chessire seems to priviledge his name. 
 His looke was never sanguine since that daye ; 
 
a6 %\it laeturne [ach. 
 
 Nere since he laughte to see a mimick playe. 
 
 Sirra, begone! you play noe prologue here, 
 
 Call noe rude hearer gentle, debonaire. iS 
 
 We'le spende no flatterlnge on this carpinge croude, 
 
 Nor with gold tearmes make each rude dullard proude. 
 
 A Christmas toy thou haste; carpe till thy deathel 
 
 Our Muse's praise depends not on thy breathe! 
 
 AC1VS PRIMUS. SCOENA PRIMA. 
 CONSILIODORUS. LEONARDE. 
 
 Consil. Leonarde, I have made thee staye somwhat 
 longe for my letters, but here they be at laste. I pray 
 thee, deliver them to Studioso and Philomusus ; give them 
 some good counsell, I pray thee. 23 
 
 Leon. Mass, Mr., and soe I will ! I'le tell them what's 
 fit for men of there 'haviour! by that time they have 
 scene as manie winters as I and youe have done, the'le 
 be a litel wiser. 
 
 Consil. Eye, well said, Leonarde ! manie frosts indeed 
 have made thee wise. 29 
 
 Leon. I thanke God, Mr., none of my kinred were fooles. 
 My father (God rest his soule I) was wonte to tell mee (God 
 rest his soule! he was as honest a carter as ever whip 
 horse) — he tolde mee, I saye (I remember at that time he 
 sate upon a stoole by the fire warminge his boots) that 
 these yonge schollers woulde spend God's abbies, if they 
 had them, and then woulde sende there fathers home false 
 notaries. He would tell our neighboure Jenkin that he 
 enquired after his sonn's breeches, and tooke them nappinge 
 but with one pointe, and tooke him to the next shopp and 
 bought him a dozen of good substantial! lether points. He 
 woulde' counsell them, yea ( — and which is more ; marke you . 
 
sc. 1.] from parna00u0, 37 
 
 mee Sir ? — ) he woulde advise them, to turne there ould 
 jerkiiigs, and keepe a good housholde loafe in there cheste, 
 to save charges ; nay, and which is more, he woulde have 
 rounded them in the eare, and wished them to provide a 
 nail, and he woulde bring them some hempe from home, to 
 the good husbaning of there shoes. Ohl he was a wise 
 man ! he coulde give such fine rules concerning the liquor- 
 ing of boots for the houlding out of water (nay, list you 
 Sir ?) ; he coulde have tolde by a cowe's water how manie 
 gallons of milke shee woulde have given, foretolde by the 
 motion of his dun horse his taile the change of the weather, 
 insomuche that he was supposed amonge his neighboures to 
 have gathered up some art in the Universitie. Well, this 
 bagg was his, and I meane for his sake to leave it to my 
 sonile. But I thinke by this time, Tib and Cutt have eaten 
 the provender I gave them ; I'le sadle them, and be jogging 
 forwarde. 
 
 Consil. He was a good man, and thou foUowes his 
 steps, Leonarde. I'le holde thee noe longer ; farewell, good 
 Leonarde. \Exit. 
 
 Seaven times the earth in wantone liverie 
 Hath deckt herselfe to meete her blushinge love, 
 Since I twoo sch oilers to 'Parnassus sent, 
 The place of solace and true merimente. 65 
 
 There tender yeare, much like a frutefull springe. 
 Promised a plenteous harvest shoulde ensue. 
 Where I mighte gather store of golden frute. 
 But nowe, when I shoulde reape what I had sowne, 
 Ther's nought but thornes and thistles to be mowne. 70 
 My poore smale farme, my litell, lite'll, store, 
 Hath yealded fuell for so longe expence ; 
 Whatever nowe is left muste serve to warme 
 My live's December, age's chillie froste. 
 Sufficeth it I cared for there springe, 75 
 
 In hope ther somer woulde a harvest bringe. 
 
38 %^t lOleturne [Acti. 
 
 If they have lived by a watchinge lampe, 
 
 Prysinge each minute of a flyinge houre, 
 
 If they have spent there oyle, there strength, there store, 
 
 In art's quicke subtelties and learninge's lore, 80 
 
 Then will god Cynthius (if a god he be) 
 
 Keepe these his sonns from baser povertie. 
 
 But if they have burnt out the sun's faire torch 
 
 In foolish riot and regardless plaie, 
 
 Then lett them live in want perpetuallie ; 85 
 
 As they have sowne soe let them reape for mee. 
 
 Noe care for them shall rouse mee out of bedde ; 
 
 I knowe this well, arts seldome beg there breade. [Exi/. 
 
 Enter Studioso, reading a letter. 
 
 Stud. Fie coosninge arts ! is this the meede you yelde 
 To youre leane followers, youre palied ghosts? 90 
 
 Hencfoorth youre shrines be worshipt by noe knee, 
 Noe foolish tonge adore youre deitie! 
 Wee, foolish wee, have sacrificed our youth 
 At youre coulde altars everie winter's morne. 
 Our barckinge stomacks have had slender fare, 95 
 
 Our eyes have bene deluded of there sleepe; 
 Yet all this while noughte els to us doth gaine 
 But onlie helps our fortunes to there waine. 
 
 Pkilom. What! I leave Parnassus and these sisters Nine, 
 These murmuringe springes, this pleasant grove, this ayre? 
 What greater ills hath fortune then in store loi 
 
 Then to expose my state to miserye? 
 The partiall heavens doe favoure eche rude boore, 
 Mackes droviers riche, and makes each schoUer poore. 
 Well may my face weare sorowe's liverie 105 
 
 Whiles angry I do chide this luckless ayre. 
 Where I am learninge's outcast, fortun's scorne. 
 Nowe, wandring, I muste seeke my destinie. 
 And spende the remnante of my wretched life 
 
sc. i] from |Sarna0!Sus(. 29 
 
 'Mongst russet coates and mossy idiotts. no 
 
 Nere shall I heare the Muses sing againe, 
 Whose musicke was like nectar to my soule. 
 
 Stud. How now, Philomusus? what, singinge Fortune 
 my foe} 
 
 Philom. If sorowe laye on mee her worst disgrace. 
 Give sorowe leave sadd passions to embrace. 115 
 
 Stud. Fortune and vertue jarred longe agoe, 
 Foule fortune ever was faire vertue's foe. 
 
 Philom. Th'arts are unkinde that doe theire sonns 
 
 neglect. 
 Stud. Unkinder frendes, that schollers doe rejecte. 
 Philom. Dissemblinge arts lookt smoothlie on our 
 youth. 120 
 
 Stud. But loade our age with discontent and ruthe. 
 Philom. Frends foolishlie us to this woe doe traine. 
 Stud. Fick[l]e Appollo promised future gaine. 
 Philom. Wee want the prating coyne, the speaking 
 
 golde. 
 Stud. Yea, frends are gained by that yellow moulde. 
 Philom. Adew, Parnassus ! I must pack away. 126 
 Stud. Fountaines, farewell 1 where beautuos nimphes 
 
 do plaie. 
 Philom. In Hellicon noe more I'le dipp my quill. 
 Stud. I'le sing noe more upon Parnassus' hill. 
 Philom. Let's taike noe more, since noe relife wee finde. 
 Stud. In vaine to skore our losses on the winde. 131 
 
 Philom. Let us resolve to wander in the worlde, 
 And reape our fortunes whersoe're they growe. 
 Some thacked cottage or some cuntrie hall, 
 Some porche, some belfry, or some scrivener's stall, 135 
 Will yealde some harboure to our wandringe heades. 
 
30 %^t Heturtie [ach. 
 
 Stud. Be merie then in spite of Fortun's change! 
 We'le finde some lucke, or throughe the worlde we'le range. 
 But, Philomusus, I here that Ingenioso is in towne follow- 
 inge a goutie patron by the smell, hoping to wringe some 
 water from a flinte. 141 
 
 Philom. Faith, coulde wee meete that ladd of jollitie 
 This duller discontent woulde quicklie die. 
 And here he comes! 
 
 Stud. What? Ingenioso come to Parnassus to fetche 
 water? or to looke for a ragged coate? I thought thou 
 hadest forsworne this starved aire I How goes the worlde 
 withyoue? 148 
 
 Philom. Give mee that hand of thine that's not ac- 
 quainted with the corrupting mettall ! say, how hath thy 
 pocket fared since our laste partinge ? 
 
 Ingen. What ? Philomusus and Studioso ? have no hungrie 
 schools swallowde youe up before this time? yt's merie 
 y-faith when vacui viatores meete ! As for my state, I am 
 not put to my shiftes, for I wante shiftes of shirtes, bandes, 
 and all thinges els ; yet I remaine thrise humblie and most 
 afifectionatelie bounde to the right honourable printing 
 house for my poore shiftes of apparell. 
 
 Stud. But, I pray thee, how haste thou fared since I 
 sawe thee laste?. 160 
 
 Ingen. In faith, I have bene posted to everie poste in 
 Paules chtirchyarde cum gratia et privilegio, and like Dicke 
 Pinner have put out newe boohs of the maker, new books of 
 the maker. 
 
 Philom. I am glad, y-faith, thy father hath lefte thee 
 suche a good stocke of witt to set up withall! Why, 
 thou cariest store of landes and livinges in thy heade ! 167 
 
 Ingen. But the'le scarse pay for the cariage! I had 
 rather have more in my purse and less in my heade ! I see 
 
sc. I.] from ^arnaiSstujS* 31 
 
 wit is but a phantasme and idea, a quareling shadowe that 
 will seldome dwell in the same roome with a full purse, but 
 commonly is the idle folower of a forlorn e creature. Nay, 
 it is a devill, that will never leave a man till it hath brought 
 him to beggerie ; a malicious spirit, that delights in a close 
 libell or an open satyre. Besides, it is an unfortunate 
 thinge ; I have observed that that heade where it dwelleth 
 hath seldome a good hatt, or the back it belonges unto a 
 good sute of apparell. ■ 178 
 
 Stud. Soe thou wilt make an ass the most fortunate 
 creature that lives ! Indeede, the time was when long ears 
 and gould dwelt together, and so they doe still : but if 
 nature had given thee noe more wit than wealth, thou 
 migh[t]st betake thyselfe in forma pauperis to a boxe and v- 
 a passporte. But husbande thy witt, if thou beest wise ; it's 
 all the goods and cattels thy father lefte thee. Nourishe it 
 with oyles and waters ; if that be gone one, ther's noe waye 
 but thou muste either plaie the counterfeit criple or else 
 beare a parte in the consorte of Three blinde beggars. 188 
 
 Ingen. That I may doe nowe, for my purse wants these 
 gray silver eyes that stande idlelye in the face of a citizen's 
 daughter, and those silver noses that stande out daringe 
 mee in the face of everie base broker. And yet I was even 
 with one of them verie latelie ; for I tell youe what, it was 
 my chance in a taverne to light on the companie of a knave 
 seargaunt with a silver nose ; the villaine woulde not parte 
 with a denaire ; the drawer came making of curtesies, and 
 had an eye to my worshipps purse, litell knowing what 
 solitarines was there ; my companions were as impecunious 
 as myselfe ; I had noe devise therfore but to call for more 
 wine ; while, wee had drunke him deade, and then I tooke 
 his nose, and paide the reckoninge. How he did, when he 
 wakt, to purg the rheume, I know not, but I thinke if ever 
 he purchase a new nose againe, he were best entertaine 
 
3a %^t Witmvm [Act I. 
 
 some caste boy to wach his fugitive nose while he sleepe! 
 But to the pointe ; for the husbanding of my witt I put 
 it out to interest, and make it retume twoo phamphlets 
 a weeke. 207 
 
 Philom. If thou haste stuft thy pocket with ere a pam- 
 phlet, lett's see one, to make our worshipps laughe ! 
 
 Stud. Indeede, Ingenioso, thou was wonte to carie some 
 dissolute papers in thy bosome, that a man which hadd 
 not knowne thy witt would have thought they had bene 
 licences that the constables of sundrye townes had sub- 
 scribed unto. But if thou haste ere an omne tulit punctum, 
 ere a ■magister artium utriusque academiae, ere an opus 
 and usus, ere a needie pamphlet, drincke of a sentence 
 to us, to the healthe of mirth and the confusion of melan- 
 cholye. 21S 
 
 Ingen. I have indeede a pamphlet here that none is 
 privie unto but a pinte of wine and a pipe of tobacco. It 
 pleased my witt yesternighte to make water, and to use 
 this goutie patron instead of an urinall, whome I make the 
 subject and content of my whole speache. 223 
 
 Stud. What patron is that youe speak ol} Art thou 
 traveling towarde a Maecenas ? 
 
 Ingen. In faith, laying a snare to catche a dottrell! 
 Why, her's Midas his grandchilde, one that will put him 
 downe in a paire of long eares and a rude witt, braggs, 
 when he comes abroade, of his liberalitie to schoUers and 
 what a rewarder he is of wittie devises : but indeed he is a 
 meere man of strawe, a great lumpe of drousie earth. Yet 
 I have better hope of him now that he is sicke, that the 
 divell and his conscience betwixt them will let him bloude 
 in the liberall vaine ; however it happeneth, He to him, and 
 trie if there be ere a dropp of Maecenas his bloude in his 
 whole bodie. 236 
 
 Stud. Well, Ingenioso, we will trouble youe noe longer. 
 
sc. I.] from parnagfsiugf, 33 
 
 Wee shall meete anon at the signe of the Sunn, and make 
 some good jeste of it. {Exeunt. 
 
 Ingen. Crowes flie to carion, and good witts to dyeng 
 churles. The carle lyeth here, att the house of this Phar- 
 macopola, this seller of dreggs and potions. I'le marche 
 on with a light purse and a nimble tonge, and picke a 
 quarell with his doore. \He knocks. 
 
 Enter Serving-Man. 
 
 Serving-man. Fellowe, youre too saucye ! youre rude 
 knockinge hath wakened my maister out of a napp, that he 
 prisde at an hundret pounde ! 247 
 
 Ingen. Saucie .' no, my good frende, unless thou takest 
 hunger to be a sauce, as wee schollers say, optimum condi- 
 mentum fames. I would thy father had brought thee up to 
 learninge, then woulde I make thee mends for my knockinge 
 with an hundreth Latin sentences, which thou migh[t]est 
 make use of in the elevation of the serving-man's blacke 
 Jacke or the confusion of a mess of brewes ; but, frend, for 
 thy better instruction, answerr not a man of art so churl- 
 eshlye againe while thou livest. Why, man, I am able 
 to make a pamphlet of thy blew coate, and the button in 
 thy capp, to rime thy bearde of thy face, to make thee a 
 ridiculous blew-sleevd creature while thou livest. I have 
 immortalitie in my pen, and bestowe it on whome I will. 
 Well, helpe mee to the speache of thy maister quicklie, and 
 I'le make that obscure name of thyne, which is knowne 
 amongst none but hindes and milkmaides, ere longe to 
 florishe in the press and the printer's stall ! 264 
 
 Serving-man. Faith, thou seems a mad Greeke, and I 
 have lovd such ladds of mettall as thou seems to be from 
 mine infancie; and wheras thou proferest such favours, 
 I will but demande this onlie, that thou wilte make mee a 
 love letter in elegant tearmes to our chambermaide. 269 
 
 D 
 
34 %^t Mnuvne [Act i. 
 
 Ing-en. Give mee but a taste of thy love, and I'le so fitt 
 thy fancie that the litell god Cupid shall put on his pumps, 
 and, caper it on a paper stage to please thy lovinge 
 wenche ! 273 
 
 Serving-man. Give mee thy hande ! faith, I am sorie I 
 shewed my selfe so unmanered, but I hope we shall be 
 better acquainted hereafter! well, I'le bringe my maister 
 downe to youe presentlie. , \Exit. 
 
 Ingen." O fustie worlde ! were there anie commendable 
 passage to Styx and Acharoij I would go live with Tarleton, 
 and never more [b]less this dull age with a good line. Wh}5, 
 what an unmanerlie microcosme was this swine-faced 
 clowne ! But that the vassall is not capable of anie infamie, 
 I would bepainte him ; but a verie goose quill scornes such 
 a base subject, and there is no inke fitt to write his servill 
 name but a scholeboye's, that hath bene made by the 
 mixture of urin and water. Yet must I forsooth sooth upp 
 this bearded point-trusser, this cursie creator, this ingrosser 
 of cringers, this ante-ambulo of a clokbagge, this great 
 hilted dagger! But 'st! I heare his worshipp's fleame 
 stirringe. 290 
 
 I 
 Enter Patron. 
 
 Patron. How nowe, felowe? have you anie thinge to 
 saye to mee ? 
 
 higen. Pardon, Sir, the presumpsion of a poore schoUer, 
 whose humble devoted ears being familiar with the commen- 
 dacions that unpartiall fame bestoweth upon youre worship, 
 reporting what a free-harted Maecenas you are unto poore 
 artists, that other favorers of learninge in comparison of 
 youre worship are unworthie to untie youre worship's purse- 
 stringes, that it hath beene youre ancient desire to get 
 wittie subjects for youre liberalitie, that you coulde never 
 endure the seven liberall sciences to carie there fardles on 
 
sc. I.] from parna00ug(t 35 
 
 there backes like footemen, but have animated there poore 
 dyinge pens, and put life to there decayed purses ; here- 
 uppon I, unfurnished of all thinges but learninge, caste 
 myselfe downe at your worship's toose, resolving that 
 liberalitie sojourneth here with you or else it hath cleane 
 lefte our untoward cuntrie. Take in good part, I beseech 
 youe, youre owne eternitie, my pains, wherin in the ages 
 to come men shall reade youre prases and give a shrewde 
 gess at youre vertues. 310 
 
 Patron, reading in the, epistle dedicatorie this sentence, 
 ' Desolat eloquence and forlorne poetrie, youre moste 
 humble suppliant[s] in forma pauperum, laye prostrate at 
 youre daintie feete and adore youre excellencie,' &c. 
 
 I doe in some sorte like this sentence, for in my dayes He nods 
 I have bene a great favorer of schollers, but surelie of 
 late the utensilia of potions and purges have bene verie 
 costlie unto mee. For my owne part I had not cared for 
 dying, but when I am deade I know not what will become 
 of schollers ; hitherto I have bespringled them prltilie with 
 the drops of my bountie. , 320 
 
 Ingen. O youre worshippe may be bolde with youre 
 selfe ! Noe other tong will be soe nigarde as to call those 
 dropes which indeede are plentuous showres, that so often 
 have refreshed thirstie brains and sunburnt witts ; and 
 might it nowe please the cloude of youre bountie to breake, 
 it never founde a drier soile to worke upon, or a grounde 
 that will yealde a more plenteous requitall. 327 
 
 Patron. Indeed these lines are pritie, and in time thou 
 maist doe well. I have not leasure as yet to reade over 
 this booke, yet, howsoever, I doe accept of thy dutie, and 
 will doe somthinge if occasion serve; in the meane \Sxa.&, He gives 
 houlde, take a rewarde. I tell thee Homer had scarse soe ^roats. 
 much bestowed upon him in all his lifetime ; indeede, our 
 countinance is enough for a scholler, and the sunshine of 
 
 D a 
 
3<5 %^e Mttuxne [ach. 
 
 our favoure yealdes good heate of itselfe ; howesoever, I am 
 somwhat prodigall that waye, in joyninge gifts to my 
 countenance ; ' yet it is fitt that all suche younge men as 
 you are should knowe that all dutie is farr inferiour to our 
 deserts, that in great humilitie doe vouchsake to reade 
 your labours. Well, my phisicke workes ; I cannot stay to 
 take a full sight of youre pamphlet ; hereafter I will look 
 on it, and at my better leasure, and in my good discretion, 
 favoure you accordinglie. [Exit. 
 
 Ingen. Goe in a poxe and neere returne agajne, 344 
 Thou lave-ear'd ass, that loves dross more than arts! 
 Thinkest thyselfe liberall, if thy mule's dull heade 
 Give a poore schoUer a ungratious nodd? 
 Our lives are bounde unto thy churlishe eyes. 
 If thou bestowest on them a squintinge glanse, / 
 If thou givest three dayes housroome to a booke, 350 
 Reprivinge it from thy unsavorie stoole. 
 Yet afterwarde, in Mounsier's Ajax vaine. 
 With poesie thou doest a coursie straine. / 
 Foole I, to angell in a miser's mudd! 354 
 
 But hope of goulde did make mee guilde this woode. 
 Farewell, gross peece of earth, base braginge dunge ; 
 Soone maist thou grovell in the lowlie duste. 
 And nere be spoken of but in obloquie: 
 And if I live, I'le make a poesie 
 Shall loade thy future's yeares with infamie. 360 
 
 Enter Philomusus and STUDIOSO. 
 
 Philo. Howe now, Ingenioso? what, well relived? 
 
 Ingen. Slender relife I can assure youe in the predica- 
 ment of privation ! yonder 's a churle thinkes it enough for 
 his favoure like a sunn to shine on the dunghill of learning ! 
 I came to the apothecarie's dore by the smell ; his worshipp 
 perfumde through five dores ; outsteps the yeoman of his 
 privie chamber, and with the face of an Iseland curr grind 
 
sc. I.J from ^ai*na00u0. 37 
 
 upon mee. I was faine to take paines to washe his doges 
 face with a few good tearmes, and then he steps, and 
 bringes out signiour Barbarisme in a case of nightcapps, 
 in a case of headpeeces all-to-be wrought, like a blocke 
 in a seamster-shopp, who, with a camelion's gape an a 
 verie emphaticall nodd of the heade, solemlye strokinge 
 his lousie bearde, asked my errand ; and when I had pro- 
 nounsed my litell speach, with a hundred damnable lies, of 
 his liberalitie, he puts his hande into the pocket of a paire 
 of breeches that were made in William the Conquerour's 
 dayes, groping in his pocket with greate deliberation, and 
 while I s'toode by dreaminge of the goulde of India, he 
 drew mee out twoo leane faces, gave mee fidler's wages, 
 and dismiste mee. 3S1 
 
 Stud. Well, Ingenioso, the worlde is badd, and wee . 
 schoUers are ordayned to be beggars. 
 
 Philom. But, Ingenioso, how doest thou meane to shifte 
 for thy livinge ? 
 
 Ingen. To London Tie go ; I'le live by the printinge 
 house, as I have done hitherto. 
 
 Stud. Nay then, take us with thee; for wee muste 
 provide us a poore capp of mantenance. 389 
 
 Ingen. Well then, let's launch forwarde ; if wee can get 
 noe livinge wee'le dye learned beggars. 
 
 Philom. Naye, staye awhile ; wee'le take Luxurio with 
 us, for he is in the same predicament. 
 
 Enter LUXURIOSO. 
 
 Lux. O brave witts of mine acquaintance, howe doe 
 yee? howe doe yee.' what, Ingenioso? how haste thou 
 helde out rubbers ere since thou wentest from Parnassus ? 
 
 Ingen. What, oulde pipe of Tobacco ! why, what's to 
 paye? give mee thy liquid hande! How haste thou 
 mantained thy nose in that redd sute of apparell ere since 
 
38 %^e laeturtie [Act i. 
 
 I lefte thee ? as for my holdinge out rubbers, I have ruled 
 so longe in apparell that my clothes cannot be taken 
 nappinge. .4°^ 
 
 Lux. Why, youe whoreson Opus and usus, you I Be it 
 knowne unto all people that the bearer hereof, you tattered 
 prodigall, thou enviest that a man's nose shoulde be better 
 apparelled than thy backe! Were thy disapointed selfe 
 possest with such a spirit as inhabiteth my face, thou 
 wouldest never goe fidlinge thy pamphlets from doore to 
 dore, like a blinde harper, for breade and chease, present- 
 inge thy poems like oulde broomes to everie farmer. 410 
 
 Ingen. Spirit calest thou it? it shoulde seeme by the 
 fier ther's a divell ! But I pray thee, Luxurio, how meanest 
 thou to bestowe thy waterie witt ? 
 
 Lrix. My waterie wit shall dwell in a waterie region. 
 And yet thou doest abuse my witt to call it waterie : much 
 have I spente in rare Alcamie, in brewinge of wine and 
 burninge sackes to make my witt a philosophers stone, • 
 when I shoulde make use of it. And now the time is. 
 come, I hope, whatere I make will beare marmelett and- 
 sacket in the mouthe, and savore of witts that have benei 
 familiar with the other quart and a reckoninge. 421 
 
 Ingen. Let it be a French wit for mee ! Tell me howe 
 thou meanest to bestowe it. 
 
 Lux. To London I'le goe, for there is a great nosde 
 
 ^ balletmaker deceaste, and I am promised to be the rimer 
 
 of the citie. lie fit them for a wittie in Creete when 
 
 Daedalus. I have alwaies more than naturallie affected 
 
 that poeticall vocation. 
 
 Ingen. Wilt thou leave Parnassus then ? 429 
 
 Lux. Is it not time thinkest thou ? I have served here 
 an apprentishood of some seaven yeares, and have lived 
 with the Pythagorean and Platonicall Ata/cas, as they call 
 
sc. I.] from ^arna00u0» 39 
 
 it ; why, a good horse woulde not have endured it ! Adew 
 single beare and three qus of breade! if I converse with 
 you anie longer, some sexton must toll the bell for the 
 death of my witt. Here is nothing but levelinge of colons, 
 squaringe of periods, by the monthe. My sanguin scorns 
 all such base premeditation ; I'le have my pen run like a 
 spigot, and my invention answerr it as quick as a drawer. 
 Melancholick art, put downe thy hose ; here is a suddaine 
 wit that will lashe thee in the time to come ! 441 
 
 Stud. Luxurio, wee are not disposed to laugh anie 
 longer ; we'ele make more use of youre merrie vaine in our 
 jorney. 
 
 Philom. Thy mirth helps to drowne that melancholicke 
 that our departure from Parnassus doth create. Longe for 
 a rewarde may youre witts be warmde with the Indian 
 herbe ! Nowe it's time for us to provide for our jorney, and 
 closly convey ourselves away, least aes alienum be knock- 
 inge at our doores. 45° 
 
 Lux. Marrye, all my debts stande chaukt upon the 
 poste for liquor ! Mine hostis may cross it if shee will, for I 
 have done my devotion ! Farewell, mine alone hostis, thou 
 shalt heare newes of thy ale-knighte ! 
 
 Stud. Muses, adewe! longe may youre groves growe 
 greene, 465 
 
 Though you to us too too unkinde have beene ! 
 
 Philom. Farewell, Apollo! e're will I adore thee. 
 Though thy poore hande's not able to relive mee! 
 
 Ingen. Youe beautuous nimphes of Hellicon, adew! 
 However poore, yet I will worship youe! 460 
 
 Lux. Farewell, the Sisters nine ! the truth for to saye, 
 Luxurio will youre goodchilde be, and love youe everie 
 
 daye! 
 Why, here's poetrie hath a foot of the twelves! why, I 
 cannot abide these scipjake blanke verses ! 464 
 
40 
 
 ttlie laeturtie [achi. 
 
 Ingen. Peace ! what musicke is this ? Marrye, I thinke 
 the Muses bestowe a fitt of mirth upon there poore 
 attendants at our departure ! \The Muses piaye. 
 
 Lux. Good wenches ! y-faith, the'Ie scrape where ther's 
 no hops of silver! This is for the love of there loving 
 Luxurio. 47° 
 
 Stud. Thanks, gentle nimphes, for this sweete harmonic ! 
 Soe musick yealdes some ease to miserie. 
 
 Philom. Thanks, sweet Apollo, for this smoother 
 strayne ! 
 To dwell with thee is joy, to part is paine. 474 
 
 Ingen. Thanks, Muses, that a part in sorrowe beare! 
 Longe may youre musick bless ech listninge eare! 
 
 Lux. Thankes to the Muses majestic of Pamass pro- 
 pertie ! 
 For they have eased my carefull hart that I may tell no lie. 
 
 Ingen. Why, thou beginest to practise alreadie! but 
 let's begone ? 480 
 
 Stud. Fairewell, Parnassus ! farwell, faire content ! 
 Philom. Welcome, good sorowe ! farewell, meriment! 
 Lux. Hangesorow! care will kill a catt ! 
 
 ACTUS 2^"^. SCAENA H. 
 
 Enter Draper attd Tayler. 
 
 Draper. Neighboure Birde, wee townsmen have such 
 kinde harts that it will goe neare to undoe us ! Why, who 
 woulde thinke that men in such grave gownes and capps, 
 and that can say soe bravlye, woulde use honest men soe 
 badlie ? Philomusus and Studioso hath not beene ashamed 
 to run 20 nobles in my debt for apparell, and after theire 
 departure abuse mee with a letter, and also my neighboure 
 
sc. i.j from parna00u0» 41 
 
 Giles, recantinge in the colde of his feare for preachinge on 
 his shopborde againste organs, in the heat of his choller, 
 was laught at by them, though he spake verie wiselie, as 
 became a man of his clothe. 494 
 
 Tayler. Fye, neighboure! if they had our wisdome 
 joyned to theire learninge they woulde prove grave men. 
 Well, God forgive them! They shoulde shewe good 
 examples to others, as our towne clarke shewed verie 
 learnedly in an oration he made, and they are the worste 
 themselves. They came to mee, and were as curteous as 
 passeth ; I doe not like they shoulde put of theire hatts so 
 much to mee ; well, they needs upon oulde acquaintance 
 woulde borowe 40J for three dayes ; I (as I had alwayes 
 bene a kinde man to schollers) lent it them, and delivered 
 them theire breeches new turned and there stockings new 
 footed, even as thoughe I had bene privie to there runninge 
 awaye. 50? 
 
 Draper. Well, whersoever they be they are a couple of 
 my men, they weare my clothe ; for there sakes I'le truste 
 but few, unless I knowe them well, and those shall be none 
 of these fine youthes that have their apparell in printe, there 
 treble cypresses, double ruffs, silke stockings. I have 
 gotten thus much by my owne experience that the more 
 willinge^ he is that trust es, the slower he'le be to paye ; a 
 note, neighboure, worthy thy retention, for (marke you 
 mee !) if wee will needs be trustinge, let us truste honest, 
 simple, plaine felowes, such as ourselves, that weare foure- 
 pennie garters, and winter shoos that have kept the cobler's 
 companie ; but as for those neat youths they are out of my 
 books ; and yet I lie, for they are more in them than the'le 
 pay in haste. 521 
 
 Tayler. Nay, that grives mee moste of all. When I 
 came to enquire for them, out steps a leane-faced schoUer 
 
 ' willninge MS. 
 
4* i:t)C TSietutne [Act n, 
 
 (surlie I thinke he was well learned, for he was redinge a 
 great booke with a smale printe), he stept out, I saye, and 
 told mee they were not within; which answerr when I 
 woulde not take (for it urged my conscience somwhat when 
 I remembered my money) he cald me ' Pagan, Tartarian, 
 heathen man, base plebeian,' and (which grived mee most 
 of all) he caled mee ' simple animal.' Well, saide I, simple 
 may I be, but animal was I never; and I added that ' 
 Philomusus and Studioso were rather animals, to use an '^ 
 honest, simple, plaine man so as they have not bene / 
 ashamed to doe. 534 
 
 Draper. Why, I thinke it was the same scipjacke that 
 when I knockt at the dore asked what clothwritt was there.' 
 and said he was makinge an oration which everie scurvey 
 vulgar felowe, everie measuringe pesante, must not interrupt; 
 he said he was about a sentence that was worth all the 
 cloth in my shopp. So these schoUers use as long as they 
 have anie cloths on there backs; and when the knaves 
 begin to be ragged, then they scrape acquaintance to be 
 trusted, and give us an Ita est, with a scurvey coozeninge 
 name, and ther's all the paiment wee can gett. 544 
 
 Enter Simson the Tapster speaking alone. 
 
 Simson. O my frozen balderkine of strdnge ale! well 
 might I have foretold by the burninge of a pot of youre 
 liquor that some dry lucke hunge over my moiste heade ! 
 And is Luxurio gone ? the answer is, he is gone ! Ey, but 
 one will say, Will not Luxurio returne againe ? I answer, I 
 knowe not. Ey, but some will object and saye. Did not 
 Luxurio strike of the score before he wente } I answer, he 
 did not. 552 
 
 Draper. Good morow, good man Simson 1 how goes the 
 world with youe.' 
 
 Tayler. Good morow, neighboure, good morowe ! 555 
 
 Simson. O, good morowe, my good neighbours! by 
 
sc. I.] from parna00U!af» 43 
 
 cocke, the worlde squints upon mee! it hath not lookt 
 straight upon mee this good while, but nowe it hath given 
 mee a bob will stick by mee ! Wott yee what ? Luxurio, as 
 they say, a man of God's makinge, as they saye, came to 
 my house, as they saye, and was trusted by my wife, a 
 kinde woman, as they saye, for a dozen of ale, as they saye, 
 and he a naughtie felowe, as they saye, is run away, as they 
 saye ; for even as an emptie barrell soundeth moste, as 
 they saye, even so Luxurio came to my house and was 
 welcom, as they saye, and even as a pot of ale and a 
 puddinge are good in a frostie morninge, even soe Luxurio 
 hath betaken himselfe to his heels, and hath overrune the 
 reckoninge. My wife arid I, twoo honest folkes, as they 
 saye, ment no harme, but even as the ape wanteth a tale, 
 as they saye, even so wee wanted all malice, as they saye ; 
 but nowe I finde, I finde at length t[h]roughe much 
 experience, that, even as wishers and woulders are never 
 good housholders, soe trusters and lenders are never good 
 housholders. Well, neighbours, I have it here in white, as 
 they saye; my ale had alwayes a verie good name, and 
 Luxurio was a good drinker, for even as a changlinge the 
 more hee eats the more he maye, even soe Luxurio the 
 more he drancke the more he mighte, which I founde, as 
 they saye. 580 
 
 Draper. Well, for all this, good man Simson, you have 
 it in youre cellar that will kill care and hange sorowe. 
 
 Tayler. Nay theii, let's in and be merie. 
 
 Simson. Neighbours, I have as good a cupp of ale as 
 ere was turnde over tonge, as they saye ; it's it will do the 
 deede, as they saye. [Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Philomusus with a blacke frise coate, solus. 
 
 Philont. Come, black frise coat ! become my sable minde! 
 Helpe me to painte forth blackefaced discontentel 
 
44 %^e Mttuvnt [Act ti. 
 
 Come, keyes and spade! the ensigns of my state, 
 
 That treads the ragged stepps of fortun's race. 590 
 
 My fortune, that whileome did seeme to floate, 
 
 Is now at length brought to the lowest ebb, 
 
 And I that lately in Parnassus sunge. 
 
 And consort kept in Muses' melodye, 
 
 Doe live moste baselie now 'mongst russet coats 595 
 
 And earns my livinge here moste painfullie. 
 
 Thus am I nipt by winter's chillie froste 
 
 That seemd of late to florish in my Maye. 
 
 I mighte have learnde to see by risinge morne 
 
 This cloudie daye'that threatens now to poure 600 
 
 Both storms and tempests on my beaten barke. 
 
 That faine woulde a[n]chor upon vertue's shore, 
 
 Where I might staye untill some warblinge winds 
 
 Might drive my shipp unto my wished porte. 
 
 But why doe I prolonge my tedious speeche? 605 
 
 Studioso promisd to be here ere longe 
 
 To beare a parte in this our mournful! songe. 
 
 And here he comes. 
 
 " Enter StuDIOSO. 
 Stud. What, Philomusus? thou art well mett! 
 I have oft heard that to have companie 610 
 
 Hath alwayes bene an ease to miserie. 
 Thus farr hath fortune plagued us equallie, 
 And caused us both to weare her servile yoke ; 
 And now mee thinks shee 'gins to leade the chase, 
 And here hath given to us a baitinge place. 615 
 
 Philom. True, Studioso, she needs to doe noe more. 
 For wee have yealded to her conqueringe hande, 
 And wilninglie goe captives in her bande. 
 But saye, canste thou endure this servile life? 
 What shall wee doe in this adversitie? 620 
 
 Stud. We muste make profit of necessitie. 
 
sc. i] from |&arnasf0u0, 45 
 
 Philom. When thinkest thou better fortune will begin? 
 
 Stud. I nere sawe winter but a springe came in. 
 
 Philom. Get I my pence by digginge of the earthe? 
 
 Stud. Ey! so the planets raigned at thy birthe. 625 
 
 Philom. Banisht am I from Phoebus lovely bowrs? 
 
 Stud. The Muses dwell as oft in woods as towres. 
 
 Philom. The cuntrie moss noe true contente here yelds. 
 
 Stud. Apollo once did dwell in cuntrie fildes. 
 
 Philom. Noe fairies dance upon this ruder greene. 
 
 Stud. By ruder springes oft beautous nymphes are 
 scene. 631 
 
 Philom. I'faith, Studioso, this dull patience of thine 
 angers mee ! Why, can a man be galde by povertie, free 
 spirits subjected to base fortune, and put it up like a 
 Stoick.' But saye, I pray thee, upon what condition art 
 thou intertayned to thy ould master and ould mistris .'' to 
 thy yonge master and yonge mistris ? 637 
 
 Stud. Marrie, I had like have missed of this preferment 
 for wante of one to be. bounde for my truthe! Mistris 
 Mincks, with a tonge as swifte as a swalowe, cride, ' The 
 world's nought, the worlde's noughte ! ' whiles her husbande 
 like a phisiognomer put on his spectacles, and gasde me in 
 the face as thoughe he woulde have tolde my fortune. 
 Well, the conclusion was this ; they indented with mee ; 
 ether I muste set my hande to the conditions followinge, or 
 els I muste take up my staffe and be packinge. The 
 conditions were these : — 647 
 
 I. That I shoulde faire no worse than there owne hous- 
 holde servants did ; have breade and beare and bacon 
 enoughe, whils my mistris, mincinge Avaritia, sayde, ' there 
 was not such a house within fortie miles.' 
 
 3. I shoulde lye cleane in hempen sheets and a good 
 mattress, to keepe mee from growinge pursie. 653 
 
46 %lt Heturne [Act ii, 
 
 3. That I shoulde waite at meals. 
 
 4. That I shoulde worke all harvest time. And upon 
 this pointe the olde churle gave a signe with a 'hemm!' 
 to the whole householde of silence, and began a solem 
 senc[e]less oration againste- Idlenes, noddinge his head, 
 knockinge his hande on his fatt breste, shakinge the hayrie 
 attire of his chin, usinge the verie grace of Dametas; 660 
 
 5. That I shoulde never teache my yonge master his 
 lesson without doinge my dutie as becometh mee to the 
 offspringe of such a schoUer. 
 
 6. That I shoulde complane to his mother when^ he 
 coulde not say his lesson. And lastlie, for all this, my 
 wages muste be five marke a yeare, and some caste out of 
 his forlorne wardropp that his ploughmen woulde scarse 
 accept of. And now let mee heare of thy promotion, what 
 thy rents are that come in by thy spade and thy church 
 dore keyes. 670 
 
 Philom. I am double benefisde with my sextonshipp and 
 my clearkeshippe ! a faire age when a schoUer must come to 
 live upon cations, and a voice that was made to pronounce 
 a poet or an oratour be imployed, like a belman, in the in- 
 quirie of a strayed beaste ; yet the beste is, I meete nowe 
 and then with a clown's heade that is as good to one as the 
 poesie ' ut hora sic vital ready to putt mee in minde of the 
 end of this my miserie. For my conditions, the hoydons, for 
 want of further rhetorique, made them but few, and con- 
 tained them in these twoo, ' Digg well and Ring well,' 'and 
 in soe doinge,' quoth our churchwarden, ' thou shall gaine 
 not onlie our praise but also our commendations.' 682 
 
 Stud. Well, Philo, we'le meete once a weeke and 
 laughe at our fortuns ! Fortie pounde to a pennie, ere this 
 th'ould churle hath swore manie an othe, and asked for 
 the knave scholler ! 
 
 Philom. Then wee may fitlie parte, for here comes 
 a rusticke knave will interrupte us. 688 
 
sc. I.J from ^arna00u0, 47 
 
 Stud. Farewell, Phil. \Exit. 
 
 Percev. Nowe good man Sexton, I sende our maide 
 Johne to youe even now to bid you toll for my good ould 
 father, that God hath taken full sore againste my will, and 
 I pray you, good man Sexton, make him a good large 
 grave, that he may lie easilie ; he coulde never abide to be 
 crouded in his life time, and therfore he was wonte to chide 
 with a good oulde woman my mother for takinge soe muche 
 roome in the bed, more than was fit for a woman of her 
 condition and place. I will see him as well as I can brought 
 to his grave honestlie ; he shall have a faire coverlet over 
 him, and lie in a good flaxon sheete, and youe and the reste 
 of my good neighbours shall have breade and cheese 
 enoughe. And I pray youe, good man Sexton, laye twoo or 
 three good .thick clods under his heade, for I'le tell youe, of 
 a cuntrie felowe he was as sqemish in his bed as ye woulde 
 wonder at, he coulde not abide to lie lowe, insomuche that 
 he was wonte to put his lether breeches and his cotton 
 dublet under his boulster. 707 
 
 Philo. Surelie, good man Percevall, the towne shall have 
 a great miss of him ; he was as honeste a cunstable as ever 
 put beggar in stocks. But saye, good man Percevale, where 
 will youe have youre father lie .' 
 
 Perce. Marrie, I coulde be contente to be at coste to 
 burie him in the churche, but that I will not bringe up 
 newe customs ; he shall lie with his posteritie in the church- 
 yarde, and I that am the aire of the house may about twoo 
 hundred years henc lie by him. But harke you. Sexton, I 
 pray you burie him quicklie ; for he was a good man, and 
 I knowe he is in a better place, that's fitter for him than 
 this scurvey worlde, and I woulde not have him alive againe 
 to his hindrance : it will be better for him and mee too, 
 for ther's a greate change with mee within this two hours, 
 for the ignorant ^ people that before calde mee Will nowe 
 
 ' ingorant MS. 
 
48 %^z W^nuvne [Act n. 
 
 call mee William, and you of the finer sorte call mee good 
 man Percevall. 1H 
 
 Philom. Well, good man Percevall, you speake like a wise 
 yonge man. Why, if death shoulde repente him, and give 
 youre father his life againe, then were youe but plaine Will. 
 Dispache him, man, dispache him quicklie ; bringe him to 
 the grave, and for thy sake I'le make him sure. 729 
 
 Perce. Goodlie Lorde, howe sen youe ? howe sen 
 youe? Nay, I woulde not wish my father soe muche 
 hurte as to live againe ! But harke you, good man Sexton, 
 they saie you can write and reade ; I'le please youe for 
 youre paines if youe will write out my father's will : ther's 
 as good matter in it as ere youe sawe, howe he is well in 
 minde and sicke in bodie, and a hundretli such prettie 
 thinges. He gave all to mee but the lambs that 2 or 3 ewes 
 will aytie at the nexte ayninge time, and a drye cowe shall 
 be 7 years oulde at the nexte roode daye, and a pann, all 
 which he gave to his base daughter. O good man 
 Sexton ! that was a foule facte, to be soe wilde ; if he 
 remember it in the other worlde it will goe harde with 
 him. 
 
 Philom. I'le doe a greater matter for youe than this 
 comes too, good man Percevalle. 745 
 
 Perce. Marrie, I thanke youe and you shall have my 
 carte to carrie home a Jagg of haye when you wonn. I 
 pray let the grave be readie quicklie ; its time my father 
 were takinge his reste. 
 
 Philom. It shall, good man Percevall. 750 
 
 Perce. I'le goe home to get my neighbours carrye him 
 to churche. Fare well. \Exit. 
 
 Philom. Woulde I were laide upon a balefuU beare, 
 Toste longe enoughe with fortun's mockeries! 
 Yet this the comforth for all miserie, 755 
 
 Who findes not where to live findes where to dye. 
 
sc. I.J from Parna00u0» 49 
 
 Enter Studioso with his scholler. 
 
 Stud. Ey, her's a true Pedantius, and yet no truculent 
 Orsylius', one that can heare a boy speake false Lattin 
 without stampinge of his feete, can looke on a false verse 
 without wrincklinge of his bi'owe, one that will give his 
 scholler leave to prove as verie a dunce as his father and 
 nere commaunde the untrussinge of his points. My hands 
 are bounde to the peace, and his wit is bounde to the good 
 bearinge, for it will not beare. I have in the bottom of my 
 dutie broughte my yonge master a stoole and a boss, a boss 
 for his worship's feete and a stoole for the yonge foole to 
 speake false Lattin on. Well, here comes the dandipratt ! 
 
 Boy. Schoolmaister, cross or pile nowe for 4 counters ? 
 
 Stud. Why cross, my wagg ! for thinges goe cross with 
 mee. 
 Els woulde I whipp this childishe vanitie. 770 
 
 Boy. Scholmaster, it's pile. 
 
 Stud. Well may it pile in suche a pilled age. 
 When schoUers serve in such base vassalage. 
 
 Boy. I muste have 4 counters of youe. 
 
 Stud. Full manie a time Fortune encounters mee ; 
 More happie they that in the Counter be. 776 
 
 Boy. You'le paye them, I hope? 
 
 Stud. Fortune hath paide mee home, that I may pay ; 
 And yet, sweet wagg, I hope you'le give mee daye. 
 
 Boy. What day will you take to paye. them ? 780 
 
 Stud. That day I'le take when learninge florisheth, 
 When schollers are esteemde by cuntrie churles. 
 When ragged pedants have there pasports sealde 
 To whip fonde wagges for all there knaverie. 
 When schollers weare noe baser livorie 785 
 
 Nor spend there dayes in servile slaverie. 
 
 Boy. But when will this be, scholmaister ? 
 
 ' Sic. Read OiiiSSims.. \ 
 
 E 
 
50 %^z Mztuvnz [Actii. 
 
 Stud. When silie shrubs th'ambitious cedars beate, 
 Or when hard oakes softe honie 'gins to sweate. 
 But wilt please you to goe to youre booke a litell? 
 
 Boj/. What will you give mee then? 791 
 
 Siud. A resin, or an aple ; or a rod if I had authoritie. 
 Wilt please you, Sir, to sit downe and repeate youre lecture? 
 
 Boj/. Quamquam te, Marce fili, etc. 
 
 Stud. Quae pars orationis, A thenis ? 795 
 
 Boy. I'le speake English todaye. 
 
 Stud. What parte of speache is it then? 
 
 Boy. A nowne adjective. 
 
 Stud. Noe ; it's a nowne substantive. 
 
 Boy. I saye it's a nowne adjective, and if I feche my 
 mother to youe I'le make you confess as muche. 801 
 
 Stud. I woulde thy mother coulde stande as well by 
 herselfe as this worde doth ! 
 
 Then shoulde thy sire have a more naked heade. 
 And less shame waitinge on his jaded bedd. 805 
 
 Boy. I am wearie of learninge : I'le goe bowle awhile, 
 and then I will goe to my booke againe. \Exif. 
 
 Stud. Doe what thou wilt, starve thou thy minde for 
 me, 
 I'le never frett to see thy vanitie. 
 
 If thou prove sottish in the after time 810 
 
 Thy parents beare the shame ; their's is the crime. 
 Fonde they to thinke that this child's waxen daye 
 Will be well spente when maister beares no swaye. 
 That tender sprig must timely bended be 
 Which will hereafter prove a stately tree. 815 
 
 For my base usage this is tolde by mee, 
 The sire a clowne, the sonne a foole shall bee. 
 
sc. i] from ^arna0s(usf» 51 
 
 Enter LuxuRio and Ms Boy. 
 
 Lux. Come boy, if thou chante it finely at the fayre 
 wee'll make a good markitt of it. I will put thee into 
 a new sute of apparell, and thy nose into that sanguin 
 complexion which it hath loste for wante of good com- 
 panie and good dyet. I am sure I have done my parte, 
 for I am sure my pen hath sweated through a quire of 
 paper this laste weeke ; and they are noe small verses like 
 ' Captame couragiaus, whome death coulde not daunte', but- 
 verses full of a poeticall spirit, such that if Elderton were 
 alive to heare (happie is he that is not alive to heare them, 
 els!) his blacke potts shoulde put on mourninge apparell, 
 and his nose for verie envie departe out of the worlde. 
 
 Boy. I warrante youe He purchase suche an auditorie 
 of clowns that shall gape, nodd and laughe ! one shall crye 
 ' a goodlie matter,' another ' bravely wanton,' and a thirde 
 'commende the sweet master.' I'le make every hoydon 
 bestowe a fairinge on bis dore, his wall, his windowe. 
 
 Liix. Thtnficuspro diabolo — Kinge Harrie loved a man ! 
 Take heede youe clowns ! here comes a juggling rimester 
 that will pull you by the rude ears with a ballet ! my 
 father's sonne might have had a better trade if it had pleased 
 Fortune ; but shee is a drab, and Luxurio will drinke to her 
 confusion ! Exercise thy voice, boy, in some of my prettier 
 sonnets, while wee go on. 841 
 
 Boy. 'Nowe listen all good people 
 Unto a strange event 
 That did befall to two yonge men 
 As they to market went. 845 
 
 The one of them height Richarde, 
 The truthe for to saye. 
 The other they cal'd him Robert, 
 Upon a holiday. 
 
 E % 
 
52 ^^z IRfturne [Actin. 
 
 And are not the Spaniards knaves 850 
 
 To put us to this paine ? 
 They woulde have conquered Englande once, 
 But nowe we'le conquer Spaine ! 
 
 jiCTtlS 3. SCOENJ 1. 
 
 INGENIOSO. GULLIO. 
 
 Ingen. Nowe, gentlemen, youe may laughe if you will, 
 for here comes a gull. 855 
 
 Gul. This rapier I bough te when I sojourned in the 
 universitie of Padua. By the heavens, its a pure T.2lledaj it 
 was the death of a Pollonian, a Germaine and a Ducheman, 
 because the[y] woulde not pledge the health of Englande. 
 
 Ingen. (He was never anie further than Flushinge, and then 
 he came home sicke of the scurveys.) Surely, Sir, a notable 
 exploite worthy to be cronicled ! but had you anie witness 
 of youre valiancie ? 863 
 
 Gul. Why, I coulde never abide to fighte privatelie, by- 
 cause I woulde not have obscuritie soe familiar with my 
 vertues. Since my arrivall in Englande (which is nowe 6 
 months, I take, sithens) I ha(i bene the death of one of our 
 pulinge Liteltomans^ for passinge by mee in the Moore 
 Fildes unsaluted, but that there was noe historiographer by 
 to have recorded it. 870 
 
 Ingen. Please you now, Sir, to lay the rayns on the necke 
 of youre vertuous disposition ; you have gotten a suppliant 
 poet that will teach mossy posteritie to know howe that 
 this earthe in such a raigne was blest with a yonge Jupiter. 
 
 Gul. I'faith I care not for fame, but valoure and vertue 
 will be spoken of in spite of oblivion. Had I cared for that 
 pratinge eccho, fame, my exploits at Cosmopolis, at Cals, 
 at Portingall voyage, and nowe verie latelie in Irelande, 
 had bene gettinge ere this throughe everie by-streete, and 
 ' Qu. ' Liteltonians ' ? 
 
sc. i] from pacna00usf» 53 
 
 talk[ed] of as well at the wheele of a cuntrie maide as the 
 tilts and turnaments of the courte. 88 1 
 
 Ingen. I dare sweare youre worship scapt knightinge 
 verie hardly. 
 
 Gull. That's but a pettie requitall to good deserts ! He 
 that esteems mee of less worth than a knight is peasande 
 and a gull. Give mee a new knight of them all, in fenc- 
 schoole, att a Nimbrocado or at a Stocado ! Sir Oliver, Sir 
 Randal, base, base chamber-tearmes ! I am saluted every 
 morninge by the name of ' Good morow, Captaine, my 
 sworde is at youre service ! ' 890 
 
 Ingen. Good faith, an honorable title ! Why, this is the 
 life of a man, to commande quick rapier in a taverne, to 
 blowe two or three simple felowes out of a roome with a 
 valiant othe, to bestowe more smoke on the worlde with 
 the draught of a pipe of tobacco than proceeds from the 
 chimnie of a solitarie hall ! But say. Sir, you were tellinge 
 me a tale even nowe of youre Hellen, youre Venus, that 
 better parte of youre amorous soule. 898 
 
 Gull. Well remembred. Etas prima canit venerem, 
 postrema tuniultus. Since souldieiye is not regarded, I'le 
 make the ladies happie with enjoyinge my youth, and 
 hange up my sworde and buckler to the behoulders. 
 Amonge manie daintie court nymphes that with petition- 
 inge looks have sued for my love, it pleased mee to bestowe 
 love, this pleasinge fire, upon Lady Lesbia: manie a 
 health have I drunke to her upon my native knees, eating 
 that happie glass in honour of my mistris ! 907 
 
 Ingen. Valiantlie done ! admirable, admirable ! 
 
 Gtdl. And for matters of witt oft have I sonnetted it in 
 the commendacons of her sqirill; and verie latelie (I 
 remember) that time I had a muske jerkin layde all with 
 golde lace, and the rest of my furniture answerable, pretty 
 sleightie apparell, stood mee not paste in twoo hundred 
 
54 Ci)C laeturtte [Actm. 
 
 pounds, they frowarde fates cut her munkey's threed 
 asunder, and I in the abondance of poetrie bestowed an 
 Epitaphe upon the deceased litell creature. 916 
 
 Ingen. I 'faith, an excellent witt that can poetize upon 
 such meane subjects! everie John Dringle can make a 
 booke in the commendacions of temperance, againste the 
 seven deadlie sinns, but that's a rare wit that can make 
 somthinke of nothinge, that can make an Epigram of a 
 Mouse and an Epitaphe on a Munkey. But love is very 
 costlie, for I have hearde that you were wonte to weare 
 seven sundry sutes of apparell in a weeke, and them no 
 meane ones. 925 
 
 Gull. Tushe, man ! at the courte I thinke I shoulde 
 growe lousie if I wore less than two a daye. 
 
 Ingen. The divell of the sute hath he but this, and 
 that's not payd for yet {aside). 
 
 Gull. I am never scene at the courte twise in one sute 
 
 of apparell ; that's base ! as for boots, I never wore one paire 
 
 above two hours ; as for bands, stockings, and handcher- 
 
 chiefs, myne hostes, where my trunkes lye, nere the courte, 
 
 ' hath inoughe to make her sheets for her housholde. 
 
 htgen. I wonder such a gallante as you are scaps the 
 marriage of some Countess. 936 
 
 Gull. Nay, I cannot abide to be tide to Cleopatra, if 
 shee were alive. It's enough-for me to crop virginitie, and 
 to take heed that noe ladies dye vestalls and leade aps in 
 hell. But seest thou this? O touche it not! it is divine! 
 why, man, it was a humble retainer to her buske. And 
 here is another favoure, which I snached from her as I was 
 in a gentleman-like curtesie tyinge of her shooe stringes. 
 It is my nature, to be debonaire with faire ladies, and 
 vouchsake to employ this happie hande in anie service 
 ether domesticall or private. 946 
 
 Ingen. Amonge other of youre vertues I doe observe 
 
sc. i.J from i©arnas(0u0. 55 
 
 youre stile to be most pure; youre English tonge comes 
 as neere TuUie's as anie man's livinge. 
 
 Gull. Oh, Sir, that was my care to prove a complet 
 gentleman, to be tarn M arte quant Mercuric; insomuche 
 that I am pointed at for a poet in Paul's church yarde, 
 and in the tilte-yarde for a champion ; nay, every man 
 enquires after my abode. 954 
 
 Gnats are unnoted where soe ere they flie, , 
 But Eagles waited on with every eye. 
 
 I had in my dayes not unfitly bene likned to Sir Phillip 
 Sidney, only with this difference, that I had the better 
 ^^SSt ^^^ ^ more amiable face : his Arcadia was prettie, soe 
 are my sonnets : he had bene at Paris, I at Padua : he 
 fought, and so dare I : he dyed in the Lowe Cuntries, and 
 soe I thinke shall I : he loved a scholler, I mantaine them, 
 witness thyselfe nowe. Because I sawe thee haue the 
 wit to acknowledge those vertus to be mine which indeede 
 are, I have restored thy dylaniated back and ruinous estate 
 to those prittie clothes wherin thou now walkest. 966 
 
 Ingen. (Oh! it is a moste lousie caste sute of his that he 
 before bought of an Irish souldier !) Durste envie other- 
 wise reporte of youre excellence than I have done, I would 
 bob him on the pate, and make forlorne malice recante. If 
 I live, I will lim[n]e out your vertues in such rude colours 
 as I have, that youre late nephewes may knowe what good 
 witts were youre worshipp's most bounden ! 973 
 
 Gull. Nay, I have not onlie recreated thy could state 
 with the warmth of my bountie, but also mantaine other 
 poetical spirits, that live upon my trenchers, insomuche that 
 I cannot come to my inn in Oxforde without a dozen 
 congratulorie orations, made hy genus and species and his 
 ragged companions. I reward the poore ergoes most 
 bountifullie, and send them away. I am verie latelie 
 
 ' Read and. 
 
56 %'^e Eeturne [Actm. 
 
 registered in the roules of fame in an Epigram made by 
 a Cambridge man, one weaver fellow I warrant him, els 
 coulde he never have had such a quick sight into my 
 vertues ; however, I merit his praise : if I meet with him 
 I will vouchsafe to give him condigne thankes. 985 
 
 Ingen. Great reason the Muses shoulde flutter about 
 youre immortall heade, since youre bodye is nothinge but 
 a faire inne of fairer guests that dwell therin. But you 
 have digrest from your mistris, for whose sake you and I 
 began this parley. 990 
 
 Gull. Marrie, well remembred ! I'le repeat unto you an 
 enthusiasticall oration wherwith my new mistris' ears were 
 verie lately made happie. The carriage of my body, by 
 the reporte of my mistriss, was excellent : I stood stroking 
 up my haire, which became me very admirably, gave a low 
 congey at the beginning of each period, made every 
 sentence end sweetly with an othe. It is the part of an 
 Oratoure to perswade, and I know not how better than to 
 conclude with such earnest protestations. Suppose also 
 that thou wert my mistris, as somtime woodden statues 
 represent the goddesses ; thus I woulde looke amorously, 
 thus I would pace, thus I would salute thee. 1002 
 
 Ingen. (It will be my lucke to dye noe other death than 
 by hearinge of his follies! I feare this speach that's a 
 comminge will breede a deadly disease in my ears.) 1005 
 
 Gull. Pardon, faire lady, thoughe sicke-thoughted Gullio 
 maks amaine unto thee, and like a bould-faced sutore 
 'gins to woo thee'- 
 
 Ingen. (We shall have nothinge but pure Shakspeare 
 and shreds of poetrie that he hath gathered at the theators!) 
 
 ' ' Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him, 
 And lilte a bold-faced suitor 'gins to woo him.' 
 
 Venus and Adonis, st. i . 
 
sc. I.] from ^earna00ugf» 57 
 
 Gull. Pardon mee, moy mittressa, ast am a gentleman, 
 the moone in comparison of thy bright hue a meere slutt, 
 Anthonie's Cleopatra a blacke browde milkmaide, Hellen a 
 dowdie. J014 
 
 Ingen. (Marke, Romeo and Juliet ! O monstrous thefts ! 
 I thinke he will runn throughe a whole booke of Samuell 
 Daniell's !) 
 
 Gull. Thrise fairer than myselfe ( — thus I began — ■) 
 The gods faire riches, sweete above compare, 
 Staine to all nimphes, [m]ore lovely the[n] a man, 
 More white and red than doves and roses are! 102 1 
 
 Nature that made thee with herselfe had^ strife, 
 Saith that the worlde hath ending with thy life^. 
 
 Ingen. Sweete Mr. Shakspeare ! 
 
 Gull. As I am a scholler, these arms of mine are long 
 and strong withall, 1025 
 
 Thus elms by vines are compast ere they falle. 
 
 Ingen. Faith, gentleman ! youre reading is wonderfull 
 in our English poetts ! 
 
 Gull. Sweet Mistris, I vouchsafe to take some of there 
 wordes, and applie them to mine owne matters by a 
 scholasticall invitation. 1031 
 
 Report thou, upon thy credit ; is not my vayne in courtinge 
 gallant and honorable ? 
 
 Ingen. Admirable, sanes compare, never was so melli- 
 fluous a witt joynet to so pure a phrase, such comly gesture, 
 suche gentlemanlike behaviour. 1036 
 
 Gull. But stay! it's verie true good witts have badd 
 memories. I had almoste forgotten the cheife pointe. I 
 cal'd thee out for new year's day approcheth, and wheras 
 
 ^ Cf. Romeo and Juliet, ii. 4. ^ sic: far sX. 
 
 ^ Venus and Adonis, st. 2. 
 
58 %^t Wittuvnz [Actiii. 
 
 other gallants bestowe Jewells upon there mistrisses (as I 
 have done whilome) I now count it base to do as the 
 common people doe ; I will bestowe upon them the precious 
 stons of my witt, a diamonde of invention, that shall be 
 above all value and esteeme ; therfore, sithens I am 
 employed in some weightie affayrs of the courte, I will have 
 thee, Ingenioso, to make them, and when thou hast done I 
 will peruse, poUish, and correcte them. 1047 
 
 Ingen. My pen is youre bounden vassall to commande. 
 But what vayne woulde it please you to have them in ? 
 
 Gull. Not in a vaine veine (prettie, i'faith !) : make mee 
 them in two or three divers vayns, in Chaucer's, Gower's 
 and Spencer's and Mr. Shakspeare's. Marry, I thinke I 
 shall entertaine those verses which run like these ; 
 Even as the sunn with purple coloured face 
 Had tane his laste leave on^ the weeping morne, &c. 
 O sweet Mr. Shakspeare ! He have his picture in my study 
 at the courte. 1055 
 
 Ingen. (Take heed, my maisters! he'le kill you with 
 tediousness ere I can ridd him of the stage !) 
 
 Gull. Come, let us in ! Tie eate a bit of phesaunte, and 
 drincke a cupp of wine in my cellar, and straight to the 
 courte rie goe. A Countess and twoo lordes expect mee 
 to day at dinner ; they are my very honorable frendes ; I 
 muste not disapointe them. \Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Leonarde and CONSILIODORUS. 
 
 Leon. Mr. Consiliodorus, are you within ? God be here! 
 
 Consil. What, Leonarde.? fill us a cupp of beare for 
 Leonard ! what good news, Leonarde ? 1065 
 
 Leon. Oh, I have had great affliction since I sawe you 
 laste. Tib is fallen sore sicke of the glanders, and Dun, 
 poore jade, I thinke he hath eaten a feather. But I have 
 
 ' 'of: Venus and Adonis, 1. 2. 
 
sc. I.J from i9arnas(0u0» 59 
 
 letters for youe, and as manie commendacions as there are 
 greene grass betwixt you and them. I told them of there 
 'havioure, I warrant youe ; I tolde them howe costlie there 
 nutreringe was, and they might by this time if they had 
 bene good boyes have learned all there bookes. I chid 
 them roundlie, without hawking, for blowing at tabecca; 
 I toulde them plainely it was nothing but a docke leafe 
 stept in a chamber pott ; and by cocke ! Mr. Consiliodorus, 
 I did such good upon them, that I thinke by this time they 
 are gone into the cuntrie to teache. I warrant Mr. Philo- 
 musus will prove a greate clarke, he is such a ready man of 
 his tongue; yet I thinke Mr. Studioso is as well book- 
 learned as he is. 1081 
 
 Consil. I pray thee, Leonarde, goe in, and eate a bit of 
 meate. I'le followe thee straighte. 
 
 Leon. God thanke youe, Mr., wee that are stirringe 
 
 betimes have good stomackes ; but I'le firste leade my 
 
 horses to the hay racke ; they, poore jades, are as shallowe 
 
 ^as a cloakbagg. \Exit. 
 
 Consil. Hencforthe let none be sent by carefull syres, 
 Nor sonns nor kinred, to Parnassus hill. 
 Since waywarde fortune thus rewardes our coste 1090 
 
 With discontent, theire paines with povertie. 
 Mechanicke arts may smile, there followers laughe, 
 But liberall arts bewaile there destinie, 
 Since noe M^cenas in this niggard age 
 Guerdons they sonns of Muses and of skill. 1095 
 
 My joyless minde foretells this sad event, 
 That learning needs muste leave this duller clime 
 To be possest by rude siraplicitie. 
 And thither hasten with a nimble winge 
 Where arts doe florishe like the gaudy springe. 1100 
 
 Too longe ^weet birds have carrolde in our woodes. 
 Too longe they nightingales have jo[y]de our groves. 
 
6o qiift Eetitrne [achv. 
 
 If thus they be rewarded with disdayne. 
 Hencfoorth night-ravens nessle in our trees, 
 And scrichinge owles dwell in those leavie cages 1105 
 Where erst did chaunt they springtime's prettie pages ! 
 Never dare anie boulde attemptinge pen 
 Seeke to expell the Tyrant of the northe, 
 Rough Barbarisme, that in those ackhorns^ times 
 Commanded our whole ilande as his owne. mo 
 
 But stay, my tounge ! too lavish of her tearmes ! 
 Pray God the times be faultie of this ill ! 
 I feare mee, I, the times be innocent. 
 While guile doth cleave to thjCire unstayed youthe, 
 In trewantinge there time, wastinge whole years, 11 15 
 Without or feedinge time or harvest hope. 
 Howe ere it be, blameworthy am not I, 
 That cared for them with a wakefull eye. 
 Litell I have ; that litell muste mantaine 
 That litell scene of life which doth remaine. nao- 
 
 My soule ere longe will leave this house of clay, 
 Death's nighte will come, and ende my livinge daye. * 
 
 Exti. 
 
 ACTUS 4. SCOENA 1. 
 GULLIO. INGENIOSO. 
 
 Gull. The Countess and my lorde entertayned mee verie 
 honorablely. Indeede they used my advise in sonie state 
 matters, and I perceyved the Earle woulde faine have 
 thruste one of his daughters upon mee ; but I will have noe 
 knave priste to medle with my ringe. I bestowed 20 angells 
 upon the officers of the house att my departure, kist the 
 Countess, tooke my leave of my lorde, and came awaye. 1129 
 
 Ingen. (I thinkes he meanes to poyson mee with a lie ! 
 Why he is acquainted with nere a lorde except my lorde 
 
 ' Qu. Acheron's? 
 
sc. i.j from parna0!Susf» 6t 
 
 Coulton, and for Countesses, he never came in the cuntrie 
 where a Countess dwells !) Faith, Sir, I must needs com- 
 mende youre generous high spirit that cannot endure to be^ 
 stinted to one, though shee were a goddess, consideringe 
 ■fihat there are soe manie ladies that sue, for youre favoure. 
 
 Gull. I thinke there is such a sayinge in Homer — ui 
 
 ameris amabilis esto, that is, be a complet gentleman, and 
 
 they ladies will love thee ; howsoever prating Tullie in his. 
 
 poem saith, Cum amarem eram. miser, when I loved I was 
 
 a drivell ; yet he was well taunted by another poet in this 
 
 goulden sayinge, vir sapit qui parum loquitur, that is, 
 
 Tullie might have houlde his peace with more honestie. 
 
 True it is that Ronzarde spake — Thi pecora si pha illupola 
 
 mangia, which I thus translated — Quisquis amat ranam, 
 
 ranam putat esse Dianam, and thus extempore into Eng- 
 
 lishe, ' 1 147 
 
 What man soever loves a crane 
 
 The same he thinkeS to be Diane. 
 
 A dull universitie's heade woulde have bene a month 
 aboute thus muche ! 
 
 Ingen. Is it possible you should utter such highe 
 spirited poettrie without premeditation? 1153 
 
 Gull. As I am a gentleman and a scholler, it was but a 
 suddaine flash of my invention. It is my custome in my 
 common talke to make use of my readinge in the Greeke, 
 Latin, French, Italian, Spanishe poetts, and to adorne my 
 oratorye with some prettie choice extraordinarie sayinges.. 
 But have youe finished those verses in an ambrosiall 
 veyne that must kiss my mistris' daintie hande? I'le nowe 
 steale some time from my weightie affayres to peruse 
 them. 1162 
 
 Ingen. Yes, Sir, I have made them in there several! 
 vaynes. Lett them be judged by youre elegante eares, and 
 soe acquitted or condemned. 
 
62, %^t Mttuvm [Activ. 
 
 Gull. Lett mee heare Chaucer's vaine firste. I love 
 antiquitie, if it be not harshe. 
 
 Ingen. Even as the flowers in the coulde of night 
 Yclosed slepen in there stalkes lowe, 
 Red ressen them the sunne brighte 1170 
 
 And spreaden in theife kinde course by rowe, 
 Right soe mine eyne, when I up to thee throwe 
 They bene yclear'd ; therfore, O Venus deare, 
 Thy might, thy grace, yheried be it here. 
 
 Nor scrivener nor craftilie I write, 117s 
 
 Blott I a litell the paper with my tears, 
 
 Nought might mee gladden while I endite 
 
 But this poore scroule that thy name ybears. 
 
 Go, blessed scroule ! a blisfuU destinie 
 
 Is shapen thee, — my lady sh alt thou see. nSo 
 
 Nought fitteth mee in this sad thinge I feare 
 To usen jolly .tearmes of meriment ; 
 Solemne tearmes better fitten this mattere 
 Then to usen tearmes of good content. 
 For if a painter a pike woulde painte 1185 
 
 With asse's feet and headed like an ape, 
 It cordeth not; soe were it but a jape. 
 Gull. Noe more! nowe, in my discreet judgment, this 
 I judge of them, that they are dull, harshe and spiritless ; 
 my mistris will soohe finde them not to savoure of my 
 sweet vayne. Besides, thers a worde in the laste canto 
 which my chaste Ladye will never endure the readinge of. 
 Thou shouldest have insinuated soe much, and not toulde 
 it plainlye. What is becomne of arte ? Well, dye when I 
 will, I shall leave but litell learninge behinde mee upon the 
 earthe ! Well, those verses have purchast my implacable 
 anger ; lett mee heare youre other vayns. 1197 
 
 Ingen. Sir, the worde as Chaucer useth it hath noe 
 unhonest meaninge in it, for it signifieth a jeste. 
 
sc. I.J from ^arna00usf* 6^ 
 
 Gull. Tush ! Chaucer is a foole,and you are another for 
 defendinge of him. 
 
 Ingen. Then you shall heare Spencers veyne. 
 A gentle pen rides prickinge on the plaine, 
 This paper plaine, to resalute my love. 1204 
 
 Gull. Stay, man ! thou haste a very lecherous witt ; 
 what wordes are these ? Though thou comes somwhat neare 
 my meaninge yet it doth not become my gentle witt to sett 
 it downe soe plainlye Youe schollers are simple felowes, 
 men that never came where ladies growe ; I that have 
 spente my life amonge them knowes best what becometh 
 my pen and theire ladishipps ears. Let mee heare Mr. 
 Shakspear's veyne. 1212 
 
 Ingen. Faire Venus, queene of beutie and of love, 
 Thy red doth stayne the blushinge of the morne. 
 Thy snowie necke shameth the milkwhite dove, 
 Thy presence doth this naked worlde adorne; 
 Gazinge on thee all other nymphes I scorne. 
 When ere thou dyest slowe shine that Satterday,' 
 Beutie and grace muste sleepe with thee for aye ! 1219 
 
 Gull. Noe more ! I am one that can Judge accordinge 
 to the proverbe, bovem ex unguibus. Ey marry, Sir, these 
 have some life in them ! Let this duncified worlde esteeme 
 of Spencer and Chaucer, I'le worshipp sweet Mr. Shakspeare, 
 and to honoure him will lay his Venus and Adonis under 
 my pillowe, as wee reade of one (I doe not well remember 
 his name, but I am sure he was a kinge) slept with Homer 
 under his bed's heade. Well, I'le bestowe a Frenche crowne 
 in the faire writinge of them out, and then I'le instructe 
 thee about the delivery of them. Meanewhile I'le have 
 thee make an elegant description of my mistris ; liken the 
 worste part of ' her to Cynthia ; make also a familiar 
 dialogue betwixt her and myselfe. I'le now in, and correct 
 these verses. \Exit. 
 
64 %^t Hcturne [achv, 
 
 Ingen. Why, who coulde endure this post put into a 
 sattin sute, this haberdasher of lyes, this bracchidochio, this 
 ladyemunger, this'meere rapier and dagger, this cringer, 
 this foretopp, but a man that's ordayned to miserie ! Well, 
 madame Pecunia, one more for thy sake will I waite on 
 this truncke, and with soothinge him upp in time will leave 
 him a greater foole than I founde him. \Exit. 
 
 Enter Warden. 
 
 Warden. Mass, maisters! the case is alterd with mee 
 since I was here laste. They call mee noe more plaine ' Will,' 
 nor 'William,' nor 'goodman Percevall,' but 'Mr. Warden,' 
 at everye worde. Well, if yee please mee well you may 
 happ make the bells speake sometime for this. But stay, 
 I seeke our Sexton, and yonder he is. Now good Sexton, 
 I am tirde as anie of my plage jades with enquiringe you. 
 You shoulde have 'pearde 'fore Mr. Maior his maistershipp, 
 for, wott you what ? The parish have put up a subligation 
 against you, and say you are the most'e unnegligent Sexton 
 that ever came these forty years and upwarde, for in 
 Jenkin's dayes (well may the bons rest of the good ould 
 Sexton!) the chauncell was kept in order, the church 
 swept, and the bords rubde that thou mightest have scene 
 youre face in them, and for my parte I never used other 
 lookinge glass ; well he woulde have gott our prelate hadle. 
 up service ! Moreover they saye the bells are never tungie ^, 
 and they complaine youe are too proude to whipp they 
 doggs out, as youre predecessours have done. Thus much 
 can I saye of mine owne knowledge, that since you were" 
 Sexton, the parish doggs have not been ashamed to beraye 
 mine owne pue. 1262- 
 
 Philo. But I pray youe, in breefe, what did they 
 magistrats conclude of Philomusus ? 
 
 » Sic. 
 
sc. I.] from ^arna!50u0» 65 
 
 Warden. Faith, Philomusus, ways mee for yee, gud 
 ladd ! ther's sorowfull tydings ; you are out of office, and 
 I was readie to crye to heare the sentence pronounced. 
 Yet thus much of frenshipp, I bespoke you a pasport, 
 least the' clarigols att some town's ende catche you. Well, 
 give mee upp youre keys, for I must begone. {Exit. 
 
 Philo-m. Take them, for the[y] are better lost than 
 founde ! 
 That day I tooke them dyd my fortune frowne, 
 Yet may I see fortuns inconstancye 
 As well in this as in some dignitie. 
 
 Longe since I gave a farewell to good haps, 1275 
 
 And bade them cozen whom they woulde for mee ; 
 I longe had bene there faithfull follower. 
 Yet reapt noe guerdon but disgrace of them. 
 Come, colde and scarcitie! for youe have bene 
 My faithfull bedfelowes this manie a yeare, 1280 
 
 And kept mee companie in sorrowe's bedd, 
 Where care hath chased slumbers quite away 
 That would have ceas'd upon my watchfull eyes. 
 Longe since my fortun's sunshine's bene eclypst 
 With foggie clouds and made as black as piche; 1285 
 Soe that I see my mournfull funerall 
 Of all good happs and faire felicitie. 
 My thoughts like mourners follow this my hearse, 
 My sobbs resounde like to a passinge bell, 
 And drearie sighes ring out my dolefull knell. 1290 
 
 Enter Studioso. 
 Stud. And is it soe.' will fortune nere have done? 
 Longe since I thought that shee had left mee quite 
 When shee had brought mee to this slauerie. 
 But nowe I see shee hath more whipps in store 
 To scourge my corps and lash my galled sides. t295 
 
 My bloominge flowers, which did daylie waite 
 
 F 
 
66 %i)t Heturne [acuv. 
 
 To be refreshed with an Aprill shower. 
 
 And promised some frutes in latter years, 
 
 Are nowe quite nipt with the chillie froste, 
 
 And blasted by the breath of Boreas. 1300 
 
 Thus, thus, alas ! my winter now is come 
 
 Ere I had thought the springe time had bene done ! 
 
 But who is this,? Philomusus I see ? he carries the oulde 
 
 characters of Melancholy in his face ; I'le put him out of 
 
 his dumps ! howe now, Philomusus, howe goes the worlde 
 
 with youe ? 1306 
 
 Philo. Nere worse, and seldome better ; one againe 
 I muste goe wander nowe from place to place, 
 Till it please Fortune take mee to her grace. 
 
 Stud. Art thou to seeke thy fortuns new againe? 
 And soe am I ; He keepe thee companie, 13^1 
 
 Till Fortune give us one a restinge place. 
 I thinke it is ordayned by destinie 
 That wee shoulde still match in adversitie. 
 But I pray thee, Philomusus, how did the parish fall out 
 with thee? 13 16 
 
 Philom. I was put out by a stuttringe churchwarden 
 because I woulde not be a dogg whipper. The clowne 
 toulde mee suche an absurde tale, howe since I was Sexton 
 they doggs have not bene ashamed to bewray his seate. 
 But why shoulde I recite this drivell's speches? To 
 conclude, I am put out, and am sent away with a pasporte. V 
 But tell mee, art thou put away nowe for whippinge thy 
 yonge M' ? 1324 
 
 Stud. Noe, not soe. I am putt out for a matter of less 
 importance ; marry, because I would not suffer one of the 
 blew coates to pearch above mee at the latter dinner. My 
 yonge maister whome I taughte was verie forwarde to have 
 mee gone, and toulde his mother he never learned in a 
 greate booke since I came ; my mistris with a shrill voice 
 
sc. I.] from ^arna00u0, 67 
 
 cride, ' These schollers are proude, these schollers are 
 proude,' and sent mee packinge awaye. 
 
 Philom. Yea, every tawnye trull, each mincinge dame, 
 Each ambling minion, may commande the arts. 
 Kill a poore scholler with a suddaine frowne, 1335 
 
 Place or displace him as her humor goes. 
 Minerva, see! and shame to see thy sonns. 
 Made servile druges to the female sex, 
 Of less repute than is each whislinge groome, 
 Each unrefined hinde, each start-upp clowne. 1340 
 
 Stud. It heats thy bloude, endeared Philomusus, 
 To see the happs of thy unhappie frendes. 
 It grives my sp'rits to see thy great deserts 
 Soe litell guerdon'd by this thankless age. 
 The gapinge grave, they could dead carcasses 1345 
 
 Of more humanitie than livinge men, 
 Seemed alate to paye to thy poore stale 
 Some tribute pence for meaner mantenance. 
 Soe learning is of senseless things regarded, 
 Thoughe scarse of anie living wight rewarded. 1350 
 
 Philom. Well, Studioso, better happ befall thee 
 In whatsoever ayre thou livest or breathest. 
 I meane to change this heaven for another. 
 And finde or better happ or kinder grave. 
 Alter I will my soyle, but not my minde ; 1355 
 
 That lives with thee ; soe soules live where they love. 
 When as I treade upon a stranger earthe 
 I'le thinke on thee, and with a deepe breath'd sighe, 
 Recounte our springtime's hapless destinies : 
 Then straight a smile shall smooth my clouded browe. 
 Whiles hope perswads mee of thy happiness.^ 1361 
 
 Stud. Nay, where thy happs be nipt my hopes must 
 wither ! 
 
 ' ' pappiness" MS. ! 
 
 F 2 
 
68 %\ft Metuvm [Actv. 
 
 The ayre that not rewards thee scorneth mee. 
 
 Then lett us flye together with a winge 
 
 Whither good starrs and happie fates us bringe. 1365 
 
 Philom. As I was loath to pull thee from thy frendes, 
 Distracte thee from thy cuntries sweet embrace, 
 To robb thy lipps from suckinge of that ayre 
 Where firste thou sawest the gawdye flatteringe light, 
 Soe nowe my partinge harte doth leape for joy, 137° 
 Since I shall have a mate for my longe waye 
 Whose talke will add winges to the tedious daye. 
 
 Stud. Come, let us caste our cards before wee goe, 
 Summon our losses if wee nere returne, 
 Cross our oulde cares, and turne the leafe anew, 1375 
 And, after, give our soyle a longe adewe! 
 
 Actus quarti finis. 
 
 ACTUS 5. SCCENA H. 
 GULLIO. INGENIOSO. 
 
 Gull. Howe nowe, Ingenioso, didest thou accordinge 
 to my direction deliver my letters ? 
 
 Ingen. I did, if it please youre worshipp. 
 
 Gull. What answerr did faire Lesbia, the mistris of 
 thoughtes, returne mee? 1381 
 
 Ingen. Shee tooke youre letter, and red it over. 
 
 Gull. Then surely by this time shee is mightilie 
 enamour'd of mee. 
 
 Ingen. And after shee hadd redd over youre letter, 
 shee gave it mee againe, as if shee knew you not. 1386 
 
 Gull. Not knowe mee ? You are a verie Jacke to mis- 
 take my mistris in that sorte ! Suche an inhumane worde 
 coulde not proceede from the mouthe of my sweete mistris. 
 
sc.i.] from partta00usf* 69 
 
 Noe less than a million of times have I participated unto 
 her both mercurial} and martiall discourses in the active 
 and chivalrous vaunt of Don Bellerephon 1 How often of 
 yore have I sunge my sonnets under her windowe to a con- 
 sorte of musicke, I myselfe playinge upon my ivorie lute 
 moste enchantinglie ! 1395 
 
 Ingen. (The divell of the musition is he acquainted with, 
 but onlye Jacke fidler !) 
 
 Gull. Whenc shoulde this chaunge of hers proceede ? 
 canst thou gess ? 
 
 Ingen. I cannot imagine, except that younge gallant 
 that stoode dallyinge with her be some rivall in youre love. 
 
 Gull. Have I a rivall? by Bellona my goddess, he 
 shoulde dye, coulde I meete with anie such audacious puny 
 longe cloke ! I woulde make him not refuse the humblest 
 vassalage to the soale of my boots ! But I warrant my 
 mistris mistooke! Indeede, I use not to sende on such 
 messages suche unmanerlye knaves as thyselfe. Thou 
 shouldst, accordinge to thy portion of witt, have described 
 unto her the perfections of my minde and bodie. 1409 
 
 Ingen. I gave you as sweet a reporte as was possible ; 
 I sayde there is not a more compleat gentleman on the 
 earth ;. but all woulde not serve the turne : she gave youe 
 a nescio, and youre letter a scornefull smile. 1415 
 
 Gull. True it is that Virgill saithe. 
 Quid pluma levius ? Flamen. Quid flamine ? Ventus. 
 Quid vento.? Mulier. Quid muliere? Nihil. 1416 
 
 These pulinge minions had rather have a carpett knighte a 
 capringe page, than a man of warr and a schoUer ! Ha, Ha, 
 see thee nowe ! I smell it ! It was youre duncerie wrought 
 mee this disgrace, and yet I adorn'd thy seely invention 
 with a prettie wittie Latinn sentence. Hencforthe I will 
 not norishe any such unlearned pedants. These universities 
 send not foorth a good witt in an age ! I'le travell to Paris 
 
70 %'^e lfil£turtt£ [AcfV. 
 
 myselfe, and there commence ior filius nobilis, and converse 
 noe more with anie of our base English witts, which have^ 
 somwhat corrupped the generous spirit of my poetrie. As ' 
 for the sute, thy wittie lines have thus dishonoured mee, - 
 thy Mfficenas here cassceeres thee, and dothe bequeath 
 thee to the travellinge trade. 1429 
 
 Ingen. Sir, it was not my lines but youre Lattin that" 
 spoyled youre love markett. To say the truthe, I deliver'd 
 youre letter, and was rewarded with the tearmes of ' What, 
 youe saucye groome, are you bringinge mee such paper 
 wisps ? from what sattin sute I pray you comes this ? what 
 foretopp bewrayed this, this paper ? ' and when I named 
 you, ' What, Gullio, that knowne foole ? ' sayde shee. 
 
 Gull. Why, that's verie true, my fame is spread farr and 
 neare, but why saide shee that shee knew mee not ? 1438 
 
 Ingen. Belike she was ashamed of you before her 
 gallant ; but interrupt mee not. ' If it be his ' (sayd shee) • 
 I am sure not a worde of it proceeds from his pen but a 
 sentence of Lattin (which I was toulde is false) : well, warne 
 him that hee looke to his rheumeticke witt, that he bespitt 
 paper pages noe more to mee ; if he doe, lie have some 
 porter or bearewoode to cudgell the vayne braggadochio.' 
 
 Gull. Peace, youe impecunious peasant ! As I am a soul- 
 dier, I was never so abus'd since I firste bore arms ! What, 
 you vassall, if a lunaticke bawdie trull, a pocketinge 
 queane, detracte from my vertues, will thy audacious selfe 
 dare to repeate them in the presence of this blade ? Were 
 it not that I will not file my haiides upon suche a con- 
 temptible rascalde, and that I will not have my name in the 
 time to come, where myselfe shall be cronicled, disgraced 
 with the base victorie of such an earth worme, I woulde 
 prove it upon that carrion of thy witt, that my Lattin was 
 pure Lattin, and such as they speake in Rhems and Padua. 
 Why, it is not the custome in Padua to obsei-ve such base 
 
sc.i.J from parna0!Su0* 71 
 
 ruls as Lilie, Priscian, and such base companions have sett 
 downe ; wee of the better sorte have a priveledge to create 
 Lattin like knights, and to saye, Rise up, Sir Phrase. But, 
 Sirra, begone 1 thou haste moved my chollar ; report of my 
 clemencie that in mine anger, contrarie to my custome, 
 [I] suffer thy contemptible carcass to possess thy cowadly 
 ghoste. 1464 
 
 Ingen. What, youe whorsonn tintunabulum, thou that 
 art the scorne of all good witts, the ague of all souldiers, 
 that never spokest wittie thinge but out of a play, never 
 hardest the reporte of a gun without trembjinge, why, 
 Mounsier Mingo, is youre asse's heade growne proude with 
 scratchinge? thinkest thou a man of art can endure thy 
 base usage? 147 1 
 
 Gull. Terrence, thou art a gentleman of thy worde : 
 familiaritas parit contemptum ! Sirra, Alexander did never 
 strive with anie but kinges, and Gullio will fight with none 
 but gallants. Farewell, base peasante, and thanke God thy 
 fathers were noe gentlemen ; els thou shouldest not live an 
 houre longer. Base, base, base peasant, peasant ! Soe hares 
 may pull deade lions by the bearde ! YExif 
 
 Ingen. Farewell, base carlcclothed in a sattin sute. 
 Farewell, guilte ass, farewell, base broker's poste! 1480 
 Too ofte have I rub'd over thy mule's dull head, 
 Fedd like a flie on thy corruption. 
 Nowe had I rather live in povertie 
 Than be tormented with the tedious talks 
 Of Gullio's wench and of his luxuries, 1485 
 
 To heare a thousand lies in one short day 
 Of his false warrs at Portingale or Calls. 
 My freer spirit did lie in tedious woe 
 Whiles it applauded bragging Gullio, 
 Applide my veyne to sottishe Gullio, 1490 
 
 Made wanton lines to please lewd GuUio. 
 
73 C!)£ Ifilcturtie [Act v. 
 
 Attend hencforth on Gulls for mee who liste, 
 For GuUio's sake I'le prove a Satyrist. 
 
 I heard that Studioso and Philomusus, discontented with 
 theire fortuns, meane to trye another ayre ; they appointed 
 to call on mee at Gullio's chamber in Shordiche; I'le 
 thither, and truss upp my trincketts, and enquire after, 
 them, that our fortuns may shake handes before they parte. 
 Then I'le goe to the press, they to the seas. 1499 
 
 SCCENA 2. 
 
 LuxuRio. Boy. 
 
 Lux. There is a beaste in India call'd a polecatt, that 
 the further shee is from youe the less she stinks and the 
 further she is from you the less you smell her. This dry 
 cuntrie is that polecatt, that creats such an unsavourie smell 
 in the noistrells of a liquid scholler, it's better nowe adayes 
 to be a mute than a liquidd, and a consonant cryer than a 
 voacall academicke. 1506 
 
 Boy. Why, Mr., are you growne melancholicke ? 
 
 Lux. V faith noe, boy! I have a jollie soule, that scorns 
 sorow i but I am in some choller with this assheaded age, 
 where the honorable trade of ballet makinge is of such base 
 reckoninge; but soe it hath bene in ancient time, when 
 Homer first sett up his riminge shopp, one of the firste that 
 ever was of my trade. 
 
 Boy. Why, was Homer of our trade } I tooke him to 
 have bene a blinde harper. 15 15 
 
 Lux. Blinde he was indeede, and that is the onlie 
 , difference betwixt us. And ere longe I'le drincke out 
 mine eyes, and then be as true a Homer as jUTjvtV aetSe flea. 
 He was poore in his life, I was as verie a beggar as hee for 
 his soule. No man carde for him in his life time, I am sure 
 I am in as litell reckoninge as he for his life. Seaven 
 
sc.2.] from i@arna00u0. 73 
 
 cuntries strove about him when he was deade, and I doubt 
 not when I am made tapster of the lower cuntries, and the 
 workes of my witt left behinde mee here upon earthe, 
 manie a towne will chalenge unto itselfe the creditt of my 
 birthe. Howsoever now I am a plaine Si nihil attuleris, ibis, 
 Homere, foras ; noe pennie, noe pott of ale. 1527 
 
 Boy. Indeed, Sir, noe doubt but that cuntries will miss 
 youe when youe are gone ; when they shall have a calfe 
 with 5 feet, see a hare at a crosslande, here a pye chatter 
 or a raven sitt uppon the top of a new kitchen, they shall 
 want there oulde poet to emparte it to the worlde, and. 
 there younge Ismenias to singe it at a stall. They maidens 
 shall want sonnets at there pales, and they cuntrie striplings 
 ditties to sing at the maydes windowes ; the cart-horses will 
 goe discontented for want of there wonted musicke, and the 
 cowes lowe for the want of there Luxurio. But as for 
 youre tapstershipp in hell, it were a good office in soe 
 whott a place ; and unless youe provide youe some such 
 place, youre drye soule will quicklie wilP be out of drincke. 
 
 Lux. V faith, well saide ! I meane to drincke the worlde 
 drye before I leave it, and not leave soe muche as the 
 element of water for generation. Let us loiter noe longer, 
 leaste the clarigoles catche us, but travell towards our 
 frends, to be kept like honeste oulde beggars by the parishe. 
 Farewell, daintie poetrie, I kiss my hande, and humblie take 
 my leave of thep ; thou art but a ragged patroness, and soe 
 I leave thee. 1548 
 
 Boy. Shee makes her followers ragged, and soe shee 
 leavs them. But lett us marche forwarde to the confusion 
 of these cellars, which our thristie^ soules shall besiege. 
 
 Lux. Farewell, thou mustie worlde! I meane to beare 
 
 no coals, 1553 
 
 And therfore will I straight drincke out these seeinge holes. 
 
 > Sic. 
 
74 CSe l&eturnt [Act v. 
 
 Boy. Farewell, thou impecunious clyme ! Luxurio and 
 his page 
 Will beggars prove elsewheare, and run from thee in rage. 
 
 \E,xei^nt. 
 
 SCCENA 3. 
 
 Ingenioso. Studioso. Philomusus. 
 
 Ingen, Nay, sighe not, men! laughe at the foolish 
 worlde ; 
 They have the shame, though wee the miserie.' 
 Strange regions well may scoff at our rude clyme, 
 And other schools laugh at Parnassus' hill, 1560 
 
 That better doe rewarde each scrivener's pen, 
 Each tapster's cringe, each rubbinge ostler, 
 Than those that live like anchors in a mue 
 And spend there youthe in contemplation, 
 Bycause they woulde refine the ruder worlde, 1565 
 
 And rouse the souls in clayie cottages. 
 
 Stud. SchoUars cride longe agoe, the worlde was 
 naught ! 
 And yet, like Marius' mules, they laboure still 
 To get these arts, these poore contemned arts, 
 As though they studied with a wakeful! eye 157° 
 
 To goe the nearest way to povertie. 
 
 Philom. I'le spende noe treuan breath in this stale 
 theame ! 
 Full ofte have I chid this unkinder worlde, 
 Tould groves and murmuringe brooks of this sad tale, 
 Rated my luck, my thwartinge destinie, 
 That train'd mee upp in learninge's vanitie. 1576 
 
 Ingen. Raj^le wee for eare, asses will folowe kinde, 
 A fox may change his heyre but not his minde. 
 
 Stud. Yea, Midas' brood fore eare must honoured be, 
 While Phoebus followers live in miserie. 1580 
 
So. 3-] from ^atna00u0. 75 
 
 Philom. Nor envie I each painted dunghill store : 
 A schoUer is alwayes better than a bore. 
 
 Ingen. Well, fawne the worlde or frowne, my wit 
 mantaine mee ; 
 The press shall keepe me from base beggarie. 
 
 Stud. To Rome or Rhems I'le hye, led on by fate, 
 Where I will ende my dayes or mende my state. 1586 
 
 Philom. And soe will I ; heard -hearted clyme, farewell! 
 In regions farr I'le thy unkindness tell. 
 
 Ingen. If schollers' wants -would end with our short 
 scene. 
 Than should our litell scene end more content. 1590 
 
 Stud. But schollers still must live in discontent ; 
 What reason than our scene shoulde end content? 
 
 Philom. Till then our acts some happier fortuns see, 
 We'le banish from our stage all mirth and glee. 
 
 Ingen. Whatever schollers 
 
 Stud. discontented be 1595 
 
 Philom. Let none but them 
 
 All. give us a Plaudite. 
 
 PLA UDITE. 
 
THE 
 
 RETVRNE FROM PERNASSVS: 
 
 OR 
 
 THE SCOURGE OF SIMONY. 
 
 Publiquely acted by the Students in Saint Johns 
 Colledge in Cambridge. 
 
 [The bracketed words are the corrections adopted from Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps' 
 MS. The list of characters follows the prologue in the printed copies.] 
 
 Wqz Ji3ame0 of tfje actors. 
 
 Dramatis Persona. 
 [Boy, Stagekeeper, and two other in the Prologue.] 
 
 iNGENIOSO. 
 lUDICIO. 
 
 Danter. 
 
 Philomusus. 
 
 Studioso. 
 
 Furor Poeticus. 
 
 Phantasma. 
 
 Patient. 
 
 RiCHARDETTO '. 
 
 Theodore, phisition. 
 Burgesse, patient. 
 Iaques, studioso. 
 academico. 
 
 Amoretto. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Signer Immerito. 
 
 Stercutio, his father. 
 
 Sir Frederick'*. 
 
 Recorder. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Prodigo. 
 
 BURBAGE. 
 
 Kempe. 
 Fidlers. 
 Patients man. 
 
 ' Rhicardetto, A. 
 
 ^ In the printed text this name is always afterwards given as Roderick. 
 'Sir Randall," MS. 
 
1^5 e lEleturne from. ^evtia00u&, 77 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 Boy, Stagekeeper, Momus, Defensor. 
 
 Boy. Spectators we will act a Comedy {non plus). 
 
 Stage. A pox on't this booke hath it not in it, you 
 
 would be whipt, [you^] raskall^: [you] must be sitting vp 
 
 all night at cardes, when [you] should be conning your^ 
 
 part. s 
 
 Boy. Its all long [of*] you, I could not get my part a 
 night or two before that I might sleepe on it. 
 
 Stagekeeper carrieth the boy away vnder his arme. 
 
 Mo. It's euen well done, here is such a stirre about a 
 scuruie English show. 9 
 
 Defen.^ Scuruy in thy face, thou scuruie Jack, if this 
 company were not, you paultry Crittick,* [Gentlemen,''] you 
 that knowe what it is to play at primero, or passage, you 
 that haue beene deepe students at post and paire, saint* 
 and Loadam. You that haue spent all your quarters 
 reueneues in riding post one night in ' Chrismas, beare with 
 the weake memory of a gamster. i6 
 
 Mo. Gentlemen you that can play at noddy, or rather 
 play vpon nodies : you that can set vp a least, at primero^" 
 insteed of a rest, laugh at the prologue that was taken 
 away in a voyder. 20 
 
 Defen. What we present I must needes confesse is but 
 slubbered inuention : [but] if your wisedome [observe] ^^ 
 the circumstance, your kindenesse will pardon the sub- 
 stance. 24 
 
 Mo. What is presented here, is an old musty show, 
 that hath laine this twelue moneth in the bottome of a 
 
 1 • thou,' edits. = 'rakehele,' MS. = 'thy,' B. *' on,' edits. 
 '" Defender of the Playwas non plus; ViS. « ' crickhett,' MS. ''Gentle- 
 man,' edits. » ' sanul,' MS. ^ The last line is lost in the MS. 
 
 ' priemero,' B ; ' primero or passage,' MS. ' " 'obscure,' edits. 
 
 10 ( . 
 
78 11^ t 3R,fturne [p™'- 
 
 coalehouse amongst broomes and old shooed, an inuension 
 that we are ashamed of, and therefore we haue promised 
 the Copies to the -Chandlers to wrappe his candles in. 29 
 
 Defen. It's but a Christenmas^ toy, and [so] may it 
 please your curtisies to let it passe. 
 
 Mom. Its a Christmas toy indeede, as good a conceit 
 as [stanging^] hotcockles, or blinde-man buffe. 
 
 Defen. Some humors you shall see aymed at, if not 
 well resembled. 35 
 
 Mom. Humors indeede : is it not a pretty humor to 
 stand hammering vpon two indiuiduum vagum^ 2. schol- 
 lers some whole* yeare. These same Phil and Studio: 
 haue beene followed with a whip, and a verse like a Couple 
 of Vagabonds through England and Italy. The Pilgrimage 
 to Pernassus, and the retume from Pernassus haue stood 
 the honest Stagekeepers in many a Crownes expence for 
 linckes^ and vizards: purchased [many] a Sophister a knock 
 [with ^] a clubbe : hindred the buttlers box, and emptied 
 the Colledge barrells; and now vnlesse you know the 
 subiect welF you may retume home as wise as you came, 
 for this last is the [last'] part of the returne from Pernassus, 
 that is^ the last time that the Authors wit wil turne vpon 
 the toe in this vaine, and at this time the scene is npt at 
 Pernassus, that is, lookes not good inuention in the 
 face. 51 
 
 Defen. If the Catastrophe please you not, impute it to 
 the vnpleasing fortunes of discontented schollers. 
 
 Mom. For Catastrophe ther's neuer a tale in sir lohn 
 Mandeuil, or Beuis of Southampton but hath a better 
 turning. 56 
 
 ' ' Christmas,' B. ^ ' slanging,' edits. ^ ind. vag. omitted in MS. 
 
 ' ' fonre,' MS. ^ ' torches,' MS. « ' which,' edits. ' ' unless 
 
 you have heard the former,' MS. ' ' least,' edits. ° ' both the first 
 
 and,' inserted in edits. 
 
proi] from ^tcna00u0. 79 
 
 Stagekeeper. What you ieering asse, be gon with 
 a pox. 
 
 Mom. You may doe better to busy your selfe in pro- 
 uiding beere, for the shew will be pittifull drie, pittifull 
 drie. ' \Exit. 
 
 \Pefeti\. No more of this, I heard the spectators aske for 
 a hlanke verse^. 
 
 What[ear] we shew, is but a Christmas iest, 
 
 Conceiue of this and guesse of^ all the rest : 65 
 
 Full like a schollers haplesse fortunes peh'd, 
 
 Whose former griefes seldome haue happy end, 
 
 Frame[n] aswell, we might with easie straine. 
 
 With far more praise, and with as little paine. 
 
 Storyes of loue, where forne the wondring bench, 70 
 
 The lisping gallant might inioy his wench. 
 
 Or make some Sire acknowledge his lost sonne,^ 
 
 Found when the weary act is almost done. 
 
 Nor vnto this, nor [that is our scene] bent,* 
 
 We onely shew a schollers discontent. 75 
 
 In Scholers fortunes twise forlorne and dead 
 
 Twise hath our weary pen earst laboured. 
 
 Making them Pilgrims [to °] Pernassus hill, 
 
 Then penning their returne with ruder quill. 
 
 Now we present vnto each pittying eye, 80 
 
 The schollers progresse in their misery. 
 
 Refined wits^ your patience is our blisse, 
 
 Too weake our scene : too great your'' judgment is. 
 
 To you we seeke to shew a schollers state, 
 
 His scorned fortunes, his vnpittyed fate. 85 
 
 To you : for if you did not schollers blesse. 
 
 Their case (poore case) were too too pittilesse. 
 
 ' The first twelve lines of this speech are in the MS. transposed to the end. 
 ^ 'at,' MS. ' 'Perhaps alluding to Patient Grissill, a comedy, 1603,' 
 
 Malone. * ' nor onto that our scene is bent,' edits. ' ' in,' edits. 
 
 « • spirrits,' MS. ' ' our,' B. « ' made,' B. 
 
8o 'die TSittuvne [Acti. 
 
 Vou shade the muses vnder fostering, 
 
 And make^ them leaue to sigh, and learne to sing. 
 
 ACTUS 1. SCENA 1. 
 Ingenioso, with luuenall in his hand. 
 
 Difficile est, Satyram non scribere, nam quis iniqucB 96 
 
 Tarn fattens vrbis, tarn \^ferreus'^ ] vt teneat se ? 
 
 I, luuenall : thy ierking hand is good, 
 
 Not gently laying on, but fetching bloud, 
 
 So surgean-like thou dost with cutting heale, 
 
 Where nought but lanching can the wound auayle. 95 
 
 O suffer me, among so many men, 
 
 To tread aright the traces of thy^ pen. 
 
 And light my linke at thy eternall flame. 
 
 Till with it I brand euerlasting shame 
 
 On the worlds forhead, and with thine owne spirit, 100 
 
 Pay home the world according to his merit. 
 
 Thy purer soule could not endure to see, 
 
 Euen smallest spots of base impurity : 
 
 Nor* could small faults escape thy cleaner hands. 
 
 Then foule faced Vice was in his swadling bands, 105 
 
 Now like Anteus growne a monster is, 
 
 A match for none but mighty Hercules. 
 
 Now can the world practise in playner guise, 
 
 Both sinnes of old and new borne villanyes. 
 
 Stale sinnes are [stale®] : now doth the world begin no 
 
 To take sole pleasure in a witty sinne. 
 
 Vnpleasant is" the lawlesse sinne has bin. 
 
 At midnight rest, when darknesse couers sinne. 
 
 It's Clownish vnbeseeming a young Knight, 
 
 Vnlesse it dare out-face the [glaring''] light. 115 
 
 " ' made,' B. = ' furens,' edits. = ' my,' MS. * ' For," 
 
 MS., incorrectly. ° ' stole,' edits. ° ?«. 'as'? ' ' gloring,' edits. 
 
sc. ^j from ^£t;na00u0. 8i 
 
 Nor can it ['mongst^] our gallants praises reape, 
 
 Vnlesse it be [y]done in staring Cheape 
 
 In a sinne-guilty Coach not cloasely pent, 
 
 logging along the harder pauement. 
 
 Did not feare check my repining sprit, 120 
 
 Soone should my angry ghost a story write, 
 
 In which I would new fostred sinnes combine, 
 
 Not knowne earst by truth telUng Aretine. 
 
 SCENA 2. 
 Enter'' Ingenioso, Iudicio. 
 
 lud. What, Ingenioso, carrying a Vinegar bottle about 
 thee, like a great schole-boy giuing theworld a bloudy nose ? 
 
 Ing. Faith, Iudicio, if I carry [a^] vineger bottle, it's 
 great reason I should confer it vpon the bald pated-world : 
 and againe, if my kitchen want the vtensilies of viands, it's 
 great reason other men should haue the sauce of vineger, 
 and for the bloudy nose, Iudicio, I may chance indeed 
 giue the world a bloudy nose, but it shall hardly giue me 
 a crakt crowne, though it giues other Poets French crownes. 
 
 lud. I would wish thee, Ingenioso, to sheath thy pen, for 
 thou canst not be successefull in the fray, considering thy 
 enemies haue the aduantage of the ground. 135 
 
 Ing. Or rather, Iudicio, they haue the grounds with 
 aduantage, and the French crownes with a pox, and I would 
 they had them with a plague too : but hang them swadds, 
 the basest corner in my thoughts is too gallant a roome to 
 lodge them in ; but say, Iudicio, what newes in your presse, 
 did you keepe any late corrections vpon any tardy pam- 
 phlets ? 142 
 
 lud. Veterem tubes renouare dolorem. Ingenioso, what ere 
 
 ' ' nought,' edits. ^ ' lud.' inserted wrongly in both editions. ' ' the,' edits. 
 
 G 
 
8a %^z lEletucne [Act. i. 
 
 [befalP ] thee, keepe thee from the trade of the corrector of 
 the presse. 145 
 
 In£: Mary so I will, I warrant thee, if pouerty presse not 
 too much. He correct no presse but the presse of the people. 
 
 lud. Would it not grieue any good [spiritt ^] to sit a whole 
 moneth nitting [over^] a lousie beggarly Pamphlet, and 
 like a needy Phisitian to stand whole yeares, tossing * and 
 tumbling the filth that falleth^ from so many draughty 
 inuentions as daily swarme in our printing house? 152 
 
 /Ǥ-. Come (I thinke) we shall haue you put finger in the 
 eye and cry, O friends, no friends^, say man, what new 
 paper hobby horses, what rattle babies are come out in your 
 late May morrice daunce ? '' 156 
 
 lud. Slymy rimes^ as thick as flies in the sunne, I thinke 
 there be neuer an [ale']-house in England, not any so 
 base a maypole on a country greene, but sets forth some 
 poets petternels or demilances to the paper warres in Paules 
 Church-yard. 161 
 
 Ing. And well too may the issue of a strong hop learne 
 to hop all ouer England, when as better wittes sit like 
 lame coblers in their studies. Such barmy heads wil alwaies' 
 be working, when as sad vineger wittes sit souring at the 
 bottome of a barrell : plaine Meteors, bred of the exhalation 
 of Tobacco, and the vapors of a moyst pot, that [soare^"] 
 vp into the open ayre, when as sounder wit keepes^^ belowe. 
 
 lud. Considering the furies of the times, I could better 
 endure to see those young Can quaffing hucksters shoot of [f] 
 their pellets so they would keepe them from these ^x\%- 
 Wshijlores-poetarum, but now the world is come to that passe, 
 that there starts vp euery day an old goose that sits hatching 
 
 ' 'befalls,' edits. ' ' spirits,' edits. ' 'out, 'edits. ' ' tooting,' MS. 
 ° 'which hath fallen,' MS. ° 'A parody on "O eyes, no eyes" ; Span. Trag.' 
 Malone. ' ' late morrice edition,' MS. * ' rimers,' MS. ; ' Flye my 
 
 rimes,' B. ' ' AH,' A. '" ' soure,' edits. '' ' witts keepe,' MS. 
 
sc. 2.J from ^jrnag(0u0» 83 
 
 vp those eggs which haue ben filcht from the nest[s] of 
 Crowes and Kestrells : here is a booke Ing: why to con- 
 demne it to [Cloaca^] the vsuall Tiburne of all misliuing 
 papers, were too faire a death for so foule an offender. 177 
 
 Ing. What's the name of it, I pray thee /ud. ? 
 
 lud. Looke [heere, its cald] Beluedere'^. 
 
 Ing. What a bel-wether in Paules Church-yeard, so cald 
 because it keeps a bleating, or because it hath the tinckling 
 bel of so many Poets about the neck of it ? what is the rest 
 of the title? 
 
 lud. The garden of the Muses. 
 
 Ing. [" What have we here ? The Poett garish 185 
 Gayly bedeckt like forehorse^ of the Parish."] 
 what followes ? , — — 
 
 lud. Quern referent muscB, viuet dum rob or a tellus, 
 Dum calum stellas, dum vehit amnis aquas. 
 
 [Ing.] Who blurres fayer paper with foule bastard rimes, 
 Shall Hue full many an age in latter* times: 191 
 
 Who makes a ballet for an ale-house doore. 
 Shall Hue in future times for euer more. 
 Then [Bodenham^] thy muse shall live so^ long, 
 As drafty ballats to [the paHe''] are song. 195 
 
 But what's his deuise? Parnassus with the sunne and the 
 lawrel : I wonder this owle dares looke on the sunne, and 
 I maruaile this go[o]se flies not; the laurell?^ his deuise 
 might haue bene better a foole going into the market place 
 to be scene, with this motto, scrib'imus indocti, or a poore 
 beggar gleahing of cares in the end of haruest, with this 
 vfotd, sua cuique gloria. 202 
 
 lud. Turne ouer the leafe, Ing: and thou shalt see the 
 
 ' ' cleare,' edits. ^ ' Looke, its here Belvedere,' edits. ^ ' horses, 
 
 edits. The arrangement of the lines is from the MS. ' ' after,' MS. 
 
 ' ' "Antony," i.e. Antony Mundy, the eulogist of Belvidere" ; Malone, incor- 
 rectly, as the MS. shows. " ' as,' MS. ' ' thy praise,' edits. 
 ° The punctuation is from the MS. 
 
 G 2 
 
84 %^t 'Enuvnt [Act I. 
 
 paynes of this worthy gentleman, Sentences gathered out of 
 all kind of Poetts, referred to certaine methodicall heads, 
 profitable for the vse of these times^, to rime vpon any 
 occasion at a little warning : Read the names. 207 
 
 Ing^. So I will, if thou wilt helpe me to censure them. 
 
 Michaell Drayton, 
 lohn Dauis. 
 lohn Mars ton. 
 Kit: Marlowe. 
 
 Edmund Spencer. 
 Henry Constable. 
 Thomas Lodge. 
 Samuel Daniell. 
 Thomas Watson. 
 
 Good men and true, stand togither : heare your censure, 
 what's thy iudgement of Spencer} 215 
 
 lud. A sweeter^ Swan then euer song in Poe, 
 A shriller Nightingale then euer blest 
 The prouder groues of selfe admiring Rome. 
 Blith was each vally, and each sheapeard proud, 
 While he did chaunt his rurall minstralsie. 220 
 
 Attentiue was full many a dainty eare. 
 Nay, hearers hong vpon his melting tong. 
 While sweetly of his Faiery Queene he song, 
 While to the waters fall he tun'd [her^] fame, 
 And in each barke engrau'd* Elizaes name. 225 
 
 And yet for all this, vnregarding soile 
 Vnlac't the line of his desired life. 
 Denying mayntenance for his deare releife. 
 Carelesse [ere^] to preuent his exequy. 
 Scarce deigning to shut vp his dying eye. 230 
 
 Ing. Pity it is that gentler witts should breed, 
 Where thick skin chuffes laugh at a schoUers need. 
 But softly may our [Homer's ^] ashes rest, 
 That lie by mery Chancers noble chest. 
 
 But I pray thee proceed breefly in thy censure, that I 
 
 ' 'this time,' MS. ^ 'swifter,' B. '' for,' edits. * 'endorc't.'MS. 
 ' ' care,' edits. « ' honours,' edits. 
 
s-^-^J from ^zvna&&u0. 85 
 
 may be proud of my selfe, [if] as in the first, so in the 
 last, my censure may^ iumpe with thine. Henry Constable, 
 Samuel DanielP, Thomas Lodg, Thomas Watson. 
 
 lud. Sweete Constable doth take the [wandring^] eare, 
 And layes it vp in willing prisonment : 240 
 
 Sweete hony dropping Daniell^ doth' wage 
 Warre with the proudest big Italian, 
 That melts his heart in sugred sonneting. 
 Onely let him more sparingly make vse 
 Of others wit, and vse his owne the more : 345 
 
 That well may scorne base imitation. 
 For Lodge and Watson, men of some desert, 
 Yet subiect to a Critticks marginall. 
 Lodge for his oare in euery paper boate. 
 He that turnes ouer Galen euery day, 250 
 
 To sit and simper Euphues legacy. 
 
 Ing. Michael Drayton. 
 
 \Iud. ^] Dray tons sweete muse is like '' a sanguine dy, 
 Able to rauish the rash gazers eye. 254 
 
 How * euer he wants one true note of a Poet of our 
 times, and that is this, hee cannot swagger it well in a 
 Tauerne, nor dominere in a hot house. 
 
 [Ing. ^] John Dauis. 
 
 [lud.^ Acute lohi Dauis, I affect thy rymes. 
 That ierck ^^ in hidden charmes these looser times : 260 
 Thy plainer verse, thy vnaffected vaine, 
 Is grac'd with a faire [end and sooping traine".] 
 
 Ing. Locke and Hudson. 
 
 ' ' may ' omitted in the MS., where the names that follow are given as the 
 beginning of Judicio's speech. '''S.D.,'B. '' wondring,' edits. 
 
 ^ ' D.,' B. = ' may,' MS. = Correctly inserted in MS. ' ' of,' MS. 
 
 * Incorrectly in the edits, assigned to Ingenioso. ' ' lud.' edits. 
 
 '" ' jerckt,' MS. '' ' Is grac't with a faire and a sooping trayne,' edits. ; 
 
 ' Martiall and he may sitt npon one bench. Either wrote well, and either lov'd 
 his wencb,' added in MS. 
 
86 %^z 5K,eturtte [Act i. 
 
 lud. Locke and Hudson, sleepe you quiet shauers, among 
 the shauings of the presse, and let your bookes lye in some 
 old nookes amongst old bootes and shooes, so you may 
 auoide ^ my censure. 
 
 Ing. Why then clap a lock on their feete, and turne them 
 to commons. 
 
 lohn Marston. 270 
 
 lud. What Monster Kynsader, lifting vp your legge and 
 pissing against the world, put vp man, put vp for shame. 
 ^ Me thinks he is a Ruffian in his stile, 
 Withouten bands or garters ornament, 
 He quaffes a cup of Frenchmans Helicon. 275 
 
 Then royster doyster in his oylie tearmes, 
 Cutts, thrusts, and foines at whomesoeuer he meets. 
 And strewes about Ram-all 3'^ meditations. 
 Tut, what cares he for modest close CQuch.t_termes, 
 Cleanly to gird our looser libertines. , 280 
 
 Giue him plaine naked words stript from their shirts 
 That might beseeme plaine dealing Aretine : 
 I, there is one^ that backes a paper steed 
 And manageth a pen-knife gallantly. 
 Strikes his poinado at a buttons breadth, 285 
 
 Brings the great battering ram of tearmes to towns 
 And at first volly of his Cannon shot. 
 Batters the walles of the Old fustie world. 
 
 Ing. Christopher Marlowe. 
 
 lud. Marlowe was happy in his buskind * muse, 290 
 Alas vnhappy in his life and end. 
 Pitty it is that wit so ill should dwell. 
 Wit lent from heauen, but vices sent from hell, 
 
 ' ' may happ to avoyd,' MS. ^ Assigned to ' Ingen.' in the MS. 
 
 ' This is a description of Marlowe ' ; Malone. But quare ? The lines beginning 
 here are assigned in the MS. to Judicio, and appear to express his opinion of 
 Marston, as in sequence to Ingenioso's. ' ' buskine,' B. 
 
sc. 2.] from Perna00u0, 87 
 
 Ing. Our Theater hath lost, Pluto hath got, 
 A Tragifck penman for a driery plot. 295 
 
 Beniamin Johnson ^. 
 
 lud. The wittiest fellow of a Bricklayer in England. 
 
 Ing. A meere Empyrick, one that getts what he hath 
 by obseruation, and makes onely nature priuy to what he 
 indites, so slow an Inuentor that he were better betake 
 himselfe to his old trade of Bricklaying, a bould whorson, 
 as confident now in making a ^ booke, as he was in times 
 past in laying of a brick. 303 
 
 William Shakespeare *. 
 
 lud. Who loues [not Adotis loue, or Lucrece rape? *] 
 His sweeter verse contaynes hart [throbbing line ^], 
 Could but a grauer subiect him content, 
 Without loues foolish lazy^ languishment. 
 
 Ing. Churchyard- 
 Hath not Shor's wife, although a light skirts she, 310 
 Gii;en him a chast long lasting memory ? 
 
 lud. No, all light pamphlets [one day '] finden shall, 
 A Churchyard and a graue to bury all. 
 
 Inge. Thomas [Nash ^]. 
 
 I, heare is a fellow, ludicio, that carryed the deadly stock- 
 [ado] in his pen, whose muse was armed with a gagtooth 
 and his pen possest with Hercules furies'. 
 
 hid. Let all his faultes sleepe with his mournfull chest. 
 And [there ^"j for euer with his ashes rest. 
 His style was wittie, though [it ^^J had some gal[l], 320 
 Something[s] he might haue mended, so may all. 
 Yet this I say, that for a mother witt. 
 Few men haue euer seene the like of it. 
 
 ' ' B.I.,' B. ^ ' of a,' MS. ' Mis-spelt ' Shatespeare ' in A. 
 
 * ' Who loves Adonis love or Lucre's rape,' edits. ^ ' robbing life,' edits. 
 
 « ' lazy ' omitted in B. ' ' once I,' edits. ' ' Nashdo,' edits. 
 
 " 'the spiritte of Hercules furens,'MS. "'then,' " 'he,' edits. 
 
88 %-^e laetucne [ach. 
 
 fn^. Re odes the rest. 3=4 
 
 lud. As for these, they haue some of them beene the 
 old hedgstakes of the presse, and some of them are at 
 this instant the botts and glanders of the printing house. 
 Fellowes that stande only vpon tearmes to serue the 
 tearme ~^, with their blotted papers, write as men go to stoole, 
 for needes, and when they write, they write as a [boare ^] 
 pisses, now and then drop a pamphlet. 331 
 
 Ing. Durum telum necessitas, Good fayth they do as 
 I do, exchange words for mony. I haue some traffique this 
 day with. Danter, about a little booke ^ which I haue made, 
 the name of it is a Catalogue of Cantbrige Cuckolds, but 
 *this Beluedere, this methodicall asse, hath made me almost 
 forget my time : He now to Paules Churchyard ; meete 
 me an houre hence, at the signe of the iPegasus in Cheap- 
 side, and He moyst thy temples with a cuppe of Claret, 
 as hard as the world goes, Ex. Iudicio. 340 
 
 ACIUS ]. SCENA 3. 
 
 Enter Danter the Printer. 
 
 Ing. Danter thou art deceiued, wit is dearer then thou 
 takest it to bee. I tell thee this libel of Cambridge has 
 much [salt ®] and pepper in the nose : it will sell sheerely 
 vnderhand, when all ^ these bookes of exhortations and 
 Catechismes, lie moulding on thy shopboard. 345 
 
 Dan. It's true, but good fayth M. Ingenioso, I lost by 
 your last booke ; and you knowe there is many a one that 
 payes me largely for the printing of their inuentions, but 
 for all this you shall haue 40 shillings and an odde pottle 
 of wine. 350 
 
 i'tume,'B. = 'beare,' edits. •^ ' a libell,' MS. * The rest 
 
 of this speech is assigned in the MS to Judicio. » ' fat,' edits. 
 
 ' ' when as,' MS. 
 
SC.4.J from ^trnag(0u0» 89 
 
 Inge. 40 Shillings ? a fit reward for one of your reuma- 
 tick poets, that ]^eslauers_all the paper he comes by, and 
 furnishes the Chaundlers with wast papers to wrap candles 
 in : but as for me, He be paid deare euen for the dreggs 
 of my wit : little knowes the world what belong[s] to the 
 keeping of a good wit in waters, dietts, drinckes. Tobacco, 
 &c. it is a dainty and costly creature, and therefore I must 
 be payd sweetly : furnish mee with mony, that I may 
 put my selfe in a new sute of clothes, and He sute thy 
 shop with a new suite of tearmes : it's the gallantest Child 
 my inuention was euer deliuered off. The title is, a 
 Chronicle of Cambrige Cuckolds : here a man may see, 
 what day of the moneth such a mans commons were in- 
 closed, and when throwne open, and when any entayled 
 some odde crownes vpon the heires of their bodies vnlaw- 
 fully begotten : speake quickly, ells I am gone. 366 
 
 Dan. Oh this will sell gallantly : He haue it whatsoeuer 
 it cost, will you walk on, M. Ingenioso, weele sit ouer a cup 
 of wine and agree on it. 
 
 Ing. A cup of wine is as good a Constable as can be, to 
 take vp the quarrell betwixt vs. {Exeunt. 
 
 Actus 1. SCENA 4. 
 
 PhilomuSUS in a PMsitions habite : StudioSO thai is lAQUES 
 man\ And patient. 
 
 Phil. Tit tit tit, non poynte, non debet fieri phlebetomotio^ 
 
 in coitu luncB : here is a Recipe. 
 Fat. A Recipe. 374 
 
 PMl. Nos l^Gailici^] non curamus quantitatem sylla- 
 
 barum: Lpt me heare how many stooles you doe make. 
 
 Adeiu mounseir, adeiu good mounseir, what* laques, Una 
 
 personne apres icy f 
 
 ' ' Stndioso like his man,' MS. ^ ' phlebotomatio,' MS. » ' Gallia,' 
 
 edits. * 'what how,' MS.. 
 
90 %^z Ifiletucne [Acti. 
 
 Siud. Non. 
 
 Phil. Then let vs steale time [from^] this borrowed 
 shape, 380 
 
 Recounting our vnequall haps of late. 
 Late did the Ocean graspe vs in his armes. 
 Late did we Hue within a stranger ayre : 
 Late did we see the cinders of great Rome. 
 We thought that English fugitiues there eate 385 
 
 Gold, for restoratiue, if gold were meate. 
 Yet now we find by bought experience, 
 That where so ere we wander vp and downe, 
 On the rounde shoulders of this massy world. 
 Or our ill fortunes, or the worlds ill eye, 390 
 
 Forspeake our good, procures our misery. 
 
 Stud. So oft the Northe[r]n winde with frozen wings, 
 Hath beate the flowers that in our^ garden grewe : 
 Throwne downe the stalkes of our aspiring youth, 
 So oft hath winter nipt our trees faire rinde, 395 
 
 That now we seeme nought but two bared boughes. 
 Scorned by the basest bird that chirps in groaue. 
 Nor Rome, nor Rhemes, that wonted are to giue 
 A Cardinall['s] cap, to discontented clarkes, 
 That haue forsooke the[ir] home-bred [thatched^] roofes, 
 Yeelded vs any equall maintenance : 401 
 
 And it's as good to starue mongst English swine. 
 As in a forraine. land to beg and pine : 
 
 Pkil^- He scorne the world that scorneth me againe. 
 
 Stud. He vex the world that workes me so much paine. 
 
 Phil. [Thy lame reuenging power °,] the world well 
 weenes. 406 
 
 '' for,' edits. ='one,'A. ' 'thanked,' edits. ' This line 
 
 is given in the MS. to Studioso, and the names are consequently changed in all 
 the following lines, and apparently, from the subsequent reference to the 
 ' capping of rimes,' correctly. * ' Fly lame revengirg's power,' edits. 
 
sc,4J from ^cctta!50u0* 91 
 
 Stud. Flyes haue their spleene, each sylly ant his 
 teenes. 
 
 Phil. We haue the words, they the possession haue. 
 
 Stud. We all are equall in our latest graue. 409 
 
 Phil. Soon then : O soone may we both graued be. 
 
 Stud. Who -wishes death, doth wrong wise destinie. 
 
 Phil. It's wrong to force life loathing men to breath. 
 
 Stud. It's sinne for[e] doomed day to wish thy death. 
 
 Phil. Too late our soules flit to their resting place. 
 
 Stud. Why mans whole life is but a breathing space. 
 
 Phil. A painefull minute seemes a tedious yeare. 
 
 Stud. A constant minde eternall woes will beare. 
 
 Phil. When shall our soules their wearied lodge forgoe ? 
 
 Stud. When we haue tyred misery and woe. 
 
 Phil. Soone [then may fates this gayle deliuery^] 
 
 send vs. 420 
 
 ^ Small woes vex long, great woes [will] quickly end vs. 
 
 But letts leaue this capping of rimes, Studioso, and follow 
 our late deuise, that wee may maintaine our heads in 
 cappes, our bellyes in prouender, and our [hacks^] in sadle 
 and bridle : hetherto wee haue sought all the honest meanes 
 wee could to Hue, and now let vs dare*, aliquid breuibus 
 \giaris^ ei\ carcere dignum: let vs run through all the lewd 
 formes of lime-twig purloyning villanyes : let vs proue 
 Cony-catchers, Baudes, or any thing, so we may rub out ; 
 and first my plot for playing the French Doctor, that shall 
 hold : our lodging stand [s] here [fitly*] in shooe lane, for if 
 our commings in be not the better, London may shortely 
 
 ' ' may then fates this gale deliuer, edits. Malone rightly conjectured what 
 the reading should be. ^ Assigned to 'Phil.' in MS. ' ' backs," edits. 
 
 ' 'Letts audere^ MS. ^ ' gracis, and,' edits. The correct reading was 
 
 conjectured by Malone. * 'filthy,' edits. Malone again conjectured 
 
 rightly what the reading should be. 
 
92 "^5^ Heturtit [Act I. 
 
 throw an old shooe after vs, and with those shredds of 
 French, that we gathered vp in our hostes house in Paris, 
 wee'l gull the world, that hath in estimation forraine 
 Phisitians, and if any of the hidebound bretheren. of 
 Cambridge and Oxforde, or any of those Stigmatick 
 malsters of arte, that abused vs in times past, leaue their 
 owne Phisitians, and become our patients, wee'l alter quite 
 the stile of them, for they shall neuer hereafter write, your 
 Lordships most bounden : but your Lordships most 
 laxatiue. 442 
 
 Stud. It shalbe so, see [how^] a little vermine pouerty 
 altereth a whole milkie disposition. 
 
 Phil. So then my selfe streight with reuenge He [sate^] 
 
 Stud. Prouoked patience growes intemperate. 
 
 ACTUS 1. SCENA 5. 
 Enter Richardetto, Iaques Scholler learning French. 
 
 laq. How now my little knaue, quelle nouelle mounseir. 
 
 Richard. Ther's a fellow with a night cap on his head, 
 an vfinal in his hand, would faine speake with master 
 Theodore. 450 
 
 laq. Park Francoyes maun petit garsoun. 
 
 [^ Richard. II y a un home avec le bonnet de la 
 
 teste et un urinell en la main qui veult parler Theodore. 
 
 laq. For Men. 
 
 Theod. Iaques alonns. Exeunt.} 
 
 ' ' what,' edits. " ' seate,' edits. Correctly altered by Malone. 
 
 ' ' Richard. Hy a vn hovitne aue le bonnet de et vn vrinell in la mens, 
 
 pie veut parter. 
 
 laq. For bien. (' Foe beieu' A.) La teste. 
 
 Theod. Iaques, a bonus. Exeunt THEODORE,' edits. 
 
sc.6.] from ^ernajsgiusf* 93 
 
 ACTUS 1. SCENA 6. 
 
 Furor POETICUS : and ■presently after enters Phantasma. 
 
 Furor POETICUS rapt within contemplation. 
 
 Fur. Why how now Pedant Phcehis, are you smoutching 
 Thalia on her tender lips ? There hoie : pesant avant : 
 come Pretty short-nosd nimph ; oh sweet Thalia, I do • 
 kisse thy foote. What Cleio ? O sweet Cleio, nay pray 
 thee do not weepe Melpomene. What! Vrania, Polimnia, 
 and CalliopL let me doe reuerence to your deities. 461 
 
 Phantasma puis Mm by the sleeue. 
 
 Fur} I am your holy swayne, that night and day, 
 Sit for your sakes rubbing my wrinkled browe, 
 Studying a moneth for on[e] [fitt] Epithete. 
 Nay siluer \Cinthia\ do not trouble me : 465 
 
 Straight will I thy Endim.ion\ storye write, 
 To which thou hastest me on [both] day and night. 
 You light ^ skirt starres, this is your wonted guise. 
 By glomy light perke out your doutfull heads : 
 But when Don Phoebus showes his flashing snout, 470 
 You are sky puppies, streight your hght is out. 
 
 Phan. So ho. Furor. 
 Nay preethee good Furor in sober sadnes. 
 
 Furor. Odi profanum vulgus et arceo. | 
 
 Phant. Nay sweet Furor, ipsm te Tytire pinus, 475 
 Ipsi te fontes, ipsa hcBc arbusta vocarunt. 
 
 Fur or ^- Who's that runs headlong on my quills shai'pe 
 point, 
 That wearyed of his life and baser breath, 
 Offers himselfe to an lambicke verse.* 
 
 ■ In the MS. the three first lines are given (apparently more correctly) to 
 Phant., and Furor's speech recommences at 'Nay.' ^ 'like,' MS. 
 
 ' Wrongly placed on the preceding line in the editions. * ' death,' sug- 
 
 gested by Malone ; but the MS. has ' verse.' 
 
,94 %^e Wietuvm [Actn. 
 
 Phant. Si quoties peccant homines, sua fulmina mittat 
 lupiter, exiguo tempore inermis erit. 481 
 
 Fur. What slimie bold presutntious groome is he, 
 Dares with his rude audacious hardye chatt, 
 Thus seuer me from [skybredd^] contemplation? 
 
 Phant. Carmina vel ccelo possunt deducere lunam. 483 
 
 Furor. Oh Phantasma : what my indiuiduall mate ? 
 
 \_Phant^ O mihi post nullos Furor memorande sodales. 
 
 Furor. Say whence comest thou? sent from what 
 deytye ? 
 From great Apollo or sly Mercury"^ 
 
 Phan. I come from [that^] litle Mercury,Ingeuioso. For, 
 Ingenio pollet cui vim natura negauit. 491 
 
 Furor. Ingenioso ? 
 He is a pretty inuenter of slight prose ^ : 
 But there's no spirit in his groaueling speach. 
 Hang him whose verse cannot out-belch the wind : 495 
 That cannot beard and braue Don Eolus, 
 That when the cloud of his inuention breakes. 
 Cannot out-cracke the scarr-crow thunderbolt. 
 
 Phan. Hang him I say *, Pendo pependi, tendo tetendi, 
 
 pedo pepedi. Will it please you maister Furor to walke 
 
 with me ? I promised to bring you to a drinking ^ in 
 
 Cheapside, at the signe of the nagges head, For, 502 
 
 Tempore lenta pati frcena docentur equi. 
 
 Furor. Passe the[e] before. He come incontinent. 
 
 Phan. Nay faith maister Furor, letts go togither, 
 Quoniam Conueniinus ambo. 506 
 
 Furor. [Let us®] march on vnto the house of fame : 
 
 ' ' skibbered,' edits. ' ' the,' edits. ' ' slight inventor of base 
 
 prose,' MS. * These four words are the end of Furores speech in the MS. 
 
 ° ' drinking Inne,' edits. ' ' Lett's,' edits. 
 
sc. 3.] from Pcnia00u0, 95 
 
 There quaffing bowles of Bacchus bloud ful nimbly, 
 Endite a Tiptoe, strouting poesy. 
 
 They offer the way one to the other. 
 
 Ph'an. Quo me Bacche rapis tui plenum, 510 
 
 \Furor^ Tu maior : tibi me est cequum, purer e Menalca. 
 
 ACT. SECUNDUS. SCENA 3'. 
 
 Enter Philom. Theod. his patient the Burgesse, and his man 
 with his staffe ^. 
 
 Theod. puis on his spectacles. 
 
 Mounseiur here are atomi Natantes, which doe make shew 
 your worship to be as leacherous as a bull. 
 
 Burg. Truely maister Doctor we are all men, [all men]. 
 
 Theod. This vater is intention^ of heate, are you not 
 perturbed with an ake in [your vace] * or in your occiput. 
 I meane your head peece, let me feele the pulse of your 
 little finger. 518 
 
 Burg. He assure you [sir] M. Tkeodour, the pulse of 
 my head beates exceedingly, and I thinke I haue disturbed 
 my selfe by studying the penall statutes. 
 
 Theod. Tit, tit, your worship takes cares of^ your 
 speeches. O, cource leues loquuntur, ingentes " stoupent, it is 
 an Aphorisme in Galen. 
 
 Burg. And what is the exposition of that } 525 
 
 Theod. That your worship must take a gland, vt emit- 
 tatur sanguis: the signe is for[t] execellent, for excellent. 
 
 Burg. Good maister Doctor vse mee gently, for marke 
 you Sir, there is a double consideration to be had of me : 
 first as I am a publike magistrate, secondly as I am a 
 priuate butcher : and but for the worshipfuU credit of the 
 
 ' Sic. ' ' state,' A. ' ' intation,' MS. * ' you race,' edits. 
 
 ^ ' for,' MS. ' ' ingantes,' MS., apparently continuing to represent the 
 
 foreign pronunciation. 
 
96 %\ie B,ztuvnt [Actn. 
 
 place, and office wherein I now stand and Hue, I would not 
 [so] hazard my worshipful! apparell, with a suppositor or a 
 glister : but for the countenancing of the place, I must go 
 oftener to stoole, for as a great gentleman told me of good j 
 experience ^ that it was the chiefe note of a magistrate, not 
 to go to the stoole without a phisition. , 537, 
 
 T/ieo. ^ A, vous ettes vn gentell home vraiment, what ho 
 Toques, laques, dou e vous ? vn fort gentel purgation for 
 monsier Burgesse. 
 
 Jaq. Vostre ires humble seruiture a vostre commande- 
 ment. 
 
 Theod. Donne vous vn gentell purge a Monsier Burgesse. 
 I haue considered of the crasis, and syntoma of your 
 disease, and here is vn fort gentell purgation per euacua- 
 tionem excrem,entorum., as we Phisitions vse to parlee. 546 
 
 Burg. I hope maister Doctor you haue a care of the 
 countryes officer. I tell you I durst not haue trusted my 
 selfe with euery phisition, and yet I am not afraide for my 
 selfe, but I would not depriue the towne of so carefull a 
 magistrate. 551 
 
 Theod. O monsier, I haue a singular care of your 
 valetudo, it is requisite that the French Phisitions be 
 learned and carefull, your English veluet cap is malignant 
 and enuious. 555 
 
 Burg. Here is maister Doctor foure pence your due, 
 and eight pence ray bounty, you shall heare from me 
 good maister Doctor, farewell farewell, good maister 
 Doctor. 559 
 
 Theod. Adieu, good Mounsier, adieu good Sir mounsier. 
 Then burst with teares ^ vnhappy graduate : 
 Thy fortunes [wayward still*] and backward bin : 
 Nor canst thou thriue by vertue, nor by sinne. 
 
 ' ' a gentleman of good experience told me,' MS. '' This line is given in 
 
 the MS. ' donnee vous un gentill purge a mounsieur Burgesse.' ^ ' teene,' MS. 
 ' ' still wayward,' edits. 
 
sc. I.] from P£rna00u0, 97 
 
 Stud. O how it greeues my vexed soule to see, 
 Each painted asse in chayre of dignitye : 565 
 
 And yet we grouell on the ground alone. 
 Running through euery trade, yet^ thriue by none. 
 More we must act in this Hues Tragedy. 
 
 Phi. Sad is the plott, sad the Catastrophe. 
 
 Sttid. Sighs are the Chorus in our Tragedy. 570 
 
 Phi. And rented thoughts continuall actors be. 
 
 Stud. Woe is the subiect : Phil, earth the loathed stage, 
 Whereon we act this fained personage. 
 Mossy ^ barbarians the spectators be, 
 That sit and laugh at our calamity. 675 
 
 Phil. Band be those houres when mongst the learned 
 throng, < 
 
 By Grantaes muddy bancke we whilome song, 
 
 Stud. Band be that hill which learned witts adore, 
 Where earst we sjient our stock and little store. 
 
 Phil. Band be those musty mewes, where we haue 
 spent 580 
 
 Our youthfull dayes in paled langu[i]shment. 
 
 Stud. Band be those cosening arts that wrought our 
 woe. 
 Making vs wandring Pilgrimes too and fro. 
 
 Phil. And Pilgrimes must we be without reliefe, 
 And wheresoeuer we run there meets vs greefe. s^s 
 
 Stud. Where euer we tosse vpon this crabbed^ stage 
 Griefe's our companion, patience be our page. 
 
 Phil. Ah but this patience is a page of ruth, 
 A tyred Lacky to our wandering youth. 589 
 
 ' 'but,' MS. ^ In the margin is printed in italics 'most like,' 
 
 as apparently a ' various reading,' but the MS. has ' mossy.' 
 = ' troubled,' MS. 
 
 H 
 
98 'JEfje Beturne ^ [Actn. 
 
 yiCrUS 2. SCENA 2. 
 ACADEMICO solus. 
 
 Acad. Faine would I haue a liuing, if I could tel how 
 to come by it. Eccho. Buy it. 591 
 
 Acad. Buy it fond Ecc[ho] ? why thou dost greatly 
 mistake it. Ecc. stake it. 
 
 Stake it ? what should I stake at this game of simony ? 
 
 Ecc. mony. ' 595 
 
 What is the world a game, are Huings gotten by playing .' 
 
 Eccho. Paying. 
 
 Paying.? but say what's the nearest way to come by 
 a liuing ? 
 
 Eccho. Giuing. ^ 600 
 
 Must his worships fists bee needs then oyled with Angells ? 
 
 Eccho. Angels. 
 
 Ought his gowty fists then first with gold to be greased .'' 
 
 Eccho. Eased. 
 
 And it is then such an ease for his asses backe to carry 
 mony } 606 
 
 Eccho. I. 
 
 Will then this golden asse bestowe a vicarige guilded ? 
 
 Eccho. Gelded. 
 
 What shall I say to good &\x Roderick, that haue [no^] 
 gold here.? 611 
 
 Eccho. Cold cheare. 
 
 He make it my lone request, that he wold be good 
 to a scholler. 
 
 Eccho. Choller. 615 
 
 Yea, will hee be cholerike, to heare of an art or a science ? 
 
 Eccho. hence. 
 
 ' The MS. omits the rest of this scene, adding here ' &c. &c. &c.' 
 " Correctly inserted in B. 
 
sc. 3-] from |@£rtia00u?f. 99 
 
 Hence with liberal arts, what then wil he do with his 
 chancel ? 
 
 Eccho. sell. 620 
 
 Sell it ? and must a simple clarke be fayne to compound 
 then ? 
 
 Eccho. pounds then. 
 
 What if I haue no pounds, must then my sute be 
 proroagued ? 625 
 
 Eccho. Roagued. 
 
 Yea? giuen to a Roague? shall an asse this vicaridge 
 compasse ? 
 
 Eccho. Asse. 
 
 What is the reason that I should not be as fortunate 
 as he? 631 
 
 Eccho. Asse he. 
 
 Yet for al this, with a penilesse purse wil I trudg to 
 his worship. 
 
 Eccho. words cheape. 635 
 
 Wei, if he giue me good words, it's more then I haue 
 from an Eccho. 
 Eccho. goe. 
 
 ACTUS 2. SCENA 3. 
 
 Amoretto with an Ouidin his hand. Immerito. 
 
 Amor. Take it on the word of a gentleman thou cannot 
 haue it a penny vnder, thinke ont, thinke ont, while I 
 meditate on my fayre mistres. 641' 
 
 Nu7ic sequor imperium magne Cupido tuum. 
 What ere become of this dull^ thredbare clearke, 
 I must be costly in my mistresse's eye : 
 Ladyes regard not ragged company. 645 
 
 I will with the reuenewes of my chafred church, 
 
 > ' bare,' MS. 
 
 H a « 
 
loo %'^t Metuvnz [A":'"- 
 
 First buy an ambling hobby for my fayre: 
 
 Whose measured pace may teach the world to dance, 
 
 Proud of his burden when he gins to praunce : 
 
 Then must I buy a iewell for her eare, 650 
 
 A Kirtle of some hundred crownes or more : 
 
 With these fayre giftes when I accompanied goe, 
 
 Sheele giue loues breakfast: Sidny tearmes it so. 
 
 I am her needle, she is my Adamant : 
 
 [Shee's a^] fayre Rose, I her vnworthy pricke. 655 
 
 Acad. Is there no body heere will take the paines to 
 geld his mouth? 
 
 Amor. Sh[e]'s Cleopatra, I Marke Anthony, 
 
 Acad. No thou art a meere marke for good witts^ to 
 shoote at-: and in that suite thou wilt make a fine man 
 to dashe poore [clownes^] out of countenance. 661 
 
 Amor. She is my Moone, I her Endimion, 
 Acad. No she is thy shoulder of mutton, thou her 
 onyon : or she may be thy Luna [well], and thou her 
 Lunaticke. 665 
 
 Amor. I her ^neas, she my Dido is. 
 
 Acad. She is thy lo,* thou her brazen asse, 
 Or she Dame Phantasy and thou her gull : 
 She thy Pasiphae, and thou her louing bull. 
 
 ACTUS 2. SCENA 4. 
 Enter Immerito, and Stercutio his father. 
 
 Ster. Sonne, is this the gentleman that sells vs the 
 lining? 671 
 
 Im. Fy father, thou must not call it selling, thou must 
 say is this the gentleman that must haue the gratuito? 
 
 ' ' She is my,' edits. ^ 'judgments,' MS. ' ' crowes,' edits. 
 
 * 'heyho,' MS. 
 
sc.4.] from ^erna00u0* loi 
 
 Acad. What haue we heere, old trupenny come to 
 towne, to fetch away the liuing in his old greasy slops ? 
 then He none : the time hath beene when such a fellowe 
 medled with nothing but his plowshare, his spade, and 
 his hobnayles, and so to a peece of bread and cheese, 
 and went his way : but now these [scurvy] fellowes are 
 growne the onely factors for preferment. 680 
 
 Ster. O is this the grating gentleman, and howe many 
 pounds must I pay ? 
 
 Im. O thou must not call them pounds, but thanks, 
 and harke thou father, thou must tell of nothing that is 
 done: for I must seeme to come cleere^ to it. 685 
 
 Acad. Not pounds but thanks : see whether this simple 
 fellow that hath nothing of a scholler, but that the 
 draper hath blackt him ouer, hath not gotten the stile 
 of the time. 689 
 
 Ster. By my fayth, sonne, looke for no more portion. 
 
 Im. Well father, I will not, vppon this condition, that 
 when thou haue gotten me the gratuito of the liuing, thou 
 wilt likewise disburse a little monyto the bishops poser, for 
 there are certaine questions I make scruple to be posed in. 
 
 Acad. He meanes any question in Latin, which he 
 counts a scruple ; oh this honest man could neuer abide 
 this popish tounge of Latine, oh he is as true an English 
 man as Hues. 
 
 Ster. He take the gentleman now, he is in a good vayne, 
 for he smiles. 7°° 
 
 Amor. Sweete Ouid, I do honour euery page. 
 
 Acad. Good Ouid that in his life time, lined with ^ the 
 Getes, and now after his death conuerseth with a Bar- 
 barian. 
 
 ' ' cleerely,' MS., which has 'you' for 'thou ' in Immerito's speeches. 
 " ' among,' MS. 
 
loa %^t WittUVnt [Act II. 
 
 Ster. God bee at your worke Sir : my Sonne told me 
 you were the grating gentleman, I am Stercutio his 
 father Sir, simple as I stand here. 707 
 
 \Amory\ Fellow, I had rather giuen thee an hundred 
 pounds, then thou should[st] haue put me out of my 
 excellent meditation[;] by the faith of a gentleman I 
 was [even] rapt in contemplation. 711 
 
 Im. Sir you must pardon my father, he wants bring- 
 ing vp. 
 
 Acad. Many it seemes he hath good bringing vp, when 
 he brings vp so much mony. 715 
 
 Ster. Indeed Sir, you must pardon me, I did not 
 knowe you were a gentleman of the Temple before. 
 
 Amor. Well I am content in a generous disposition to 
 beare with country education, but fellow whats thy name ? 
 
 Ster. My name Sir, Stercutio Sir. 720 
 
 Amor. Why then Stercutio, I would be very willing to 
 be the instrument to my father, that this liuing might be 
 conferred vpon your sonne : mary I would haue you know, 
 that I haue bene importuned by two or three seueral 
 Lordes, my Kinde cozins, in the behalfe of some Cambridge 
 man ^ : and haue almost engaged my word. Mary if I 
 shall see your disposition to be more thankfuU then other 
 men, I shalbe very ready to respect kind natur'd men : 
 for as the Italian prouerbe speaketh wel, Chi ha haura? 
 
 Acad. Why here is a gallant young drouer of linings. 
 
 Ster. I beseech you sir speake English, for that is 
 naturall to me & to my sonne, and all our kindred, to 
 vnderstand but one language. 
 
 Amor. Why [then] thus in plaine english : I must be 
 respected with thanks. 73,5 
 
 ' ' Acad.' edits., but evidently a misprint. " ' schoUers,' MS. ' The 
 
 last three words omitted in the MS. 
 
sc-s.j from ^tvna0&ti0* 103 
 
 Acad. This is a subtle tractiue ^, when thanks may be 
 felt and seene. 
 
 SUr. And I pray you Sir, what is the lowest thanks 
 that you will take? 
 
 Acad. The verye same Method that -he vseth at the 
 buying^ of an oxe. 741 
 
 Amor. I must haue some odd sprinckling of an hundred 
 pounds [or ^ so, so I shall thinke you thankfull, and com- 
 mend your Sonne as a man of good giftes to my father. 
 
 Acad. A sweete world, giue an hundred poundes, and 
 this is but counted thankfullnesse. 746 
 
 Ster. Harke thou Sir, you shall haue 80. thankes. 
 
 Amor. I tell thee fellow, I neuer opened my mouth 
 in this kind so cheape before in my hfe. I tel thee, 
 few young gentlemen are found, that would deale so 
 kindely with thee as I doe. 751 
 
 Ster. Well Sir, because I knowe my sonne to be a 
 [good] toward thing, and one that hath taken all his learn- 
 ing * on his owne head, without sending to the vniuer- 
 sitye, I am content to giue you as many thankes as you 
 aske, so you will promise ine to bring it to passe. 756 
 
 Amor. I warrant you for that : if I say it once, repayre 
 you to the place, and stay there, for my father, he is 
 walked abroad [into the parke] to take the benefit of 
 the ayre. He meete him as he returnes, and make way 
 for your suite. {Exeunt Ster. Im. 
 
 ACT. 2. SCEN. 5. 
 Enter Academico, Amoretto. 
 Amor. Gallant, I faith. ■ 762 
 
 Acad. I see we schollers fish for a liuing in these 
 shallow foardes without a siluer hoock. Why, wold it 
 
 ' 'tactive,'MS. = 'in buying,' MS. » 'if,' edits. * 'taken all he hath,' MS. 
 
I04 ^'ift Heturnc [Actii. 
 
 not gal a man to see a spruse gartered youth, of our 
 Colledge a while ago, be a broker for a liuing, & an 
 old Baude for a benefice? This sweet Sir profered me 
 much kindenesse when hee was of our Colledge, and now 
 He try what winde remaynes in [t]his bladder. God 
 saue you Sir. 770 
 
 Amor. By the masse I feare me I [have seene^] this 
 Genus & Species in Cambridge before now : He take no 
 notice of him now : by the faith of a gentleman this is 
 [a] pretty Ellegy^- Of what age is the day fellow.? 
 Syrrha boy, hath the groome saddled my hunting hobby.? 
 can Robin hunter tel where a hare sits. 776 
 
 Acad. [Sir^] a poore old friend of yours, [sir] of S. 
 [John's] Colledge in Cambridge. 
 
 Am. Good fayth Sir you must pardon me. I haue 
 forgotten you. 780 
 
 Acad. My name is Academico Sir, one that made an 
 oration for you once on the Queenes day, and a show that 
 you got some credit by. 
 
 Amor. It may be so, it may bee so, but I haue for- 
 gotten it: marry yet I remember there was such a fellow 
 that I was very beneficiall vnto in rriy time. But how- 
 soeuer Sir, I haue the curtesie of the towne for you. I 
 am sory you did not take me at my fathers house : 
 but now I am in exceding great hast, for I haue vowed 
 the death of a hare that wee found this morning musing 
 on her meaze. 791 
 
 Acad. Sir I am imboldned, by that great acquaint- 
 ance that heretofore I had with you, as likewise it hath 
 pleased you heretofore — 
 
 Amor. Looke syrrha, if you see my Hobby come 
 hetherward as yet.* 796 
 
 ' ' saw,' edits. ^ ' prety pretye elegie,' MS. = ' See,' edits. 
 
 * The last three words omitted in the MS. 
 
sc.sj from P0rna00us(. 105 
 
 Acad. To make me some promises, I am to request 
 your good mediation^ to the Worshipfull your father, in 
 my behalfe : and I will dedicate to your selfe in the way 
 of thankes, those dayes I haue to Hue. 800 
 
 Amor. O good sir, if I had knowne your minde before, 
 for my father hath already giuen the induction to a 
 Chaplaine of his owne, to a proper man^ I know not of 
 what Vniuersitie he is. 
 
 Acad. Signior Immerito, they say, hath bidden fayrest 
 for it. 806 
 
 Amor. I know not his name, but hee is a graue 
 discreet man I warrant him, indeede hee wants vtterance 
 in some measure. 
 
 Acad. Nay, me thinkes he hath very good vtterance, 
 for his grauitie, for hee came hether very graue, but I 
 thinke he will returne light enough, when he is ridde of 
 the heauy element he carries about him. 813 
 
 Amor. Faith Sir, you must pardon mee, it is my 
 ordinarie custome to be too studious, my Mistresse hath 
 tolde me of it often, and I finde it to hurt my ordinary 
 discourse : but say sweete Sir, do yee affect the most 
 gentle-man-like game of hunting. 818 
 
 Acad. How say you to the crafty gull, hee would 
 faine get mee abroad to make sport with mee in their 
 Hunters termes, which we schollers are not acquainted 
 with : sir I haue loued this kinde of sporte [well], but 
 now I begin to hate it, for it hath beene my luck 
 alwayes to beat the bush, while another kild the Hare. 
 
 Amor. Hunters luck, Hunters luck Sir, but there was 
 a fault in your Hounds that did [not] spend well. 826 
 
 Acad. Sir, I haue had worse luck alwayes at hunting 
 [of] the Fox. 
 
 ' 'meditation,' B. 
 
io6 %ifz Heturne [achi. 
 
 Am\or\. What sir, do you meane at the vnkennelling, 
 vntapezing ^, or earthing of the Fox ? 830 
 
 Acad. I meane earthing, if you terme it so, for I 
 neuer found yellow earth enough to couer the old Fox 
 your father [in]. 
 
 Amor. Good faith sir, there is an excellent skill in 
 blowing for the terriers, it is a word that we hunters vse 
 when the Fox is earthed, you must blow one long, two 
 short, the second winde one long two short : now sir in 
 blowing, euery long containeth 7. quauers [one miniim 
 and one quaver, one mimim conteynelh 4 quauers], one 
 short containeth 3. quauers. 840 
 
 Acad. Sir might I finde any fauour in my sute, I 
 would wind the home wherein your boone deserts^ 
 should bee sounded with so many minims, so many 
 quauers. 844 
 
 Amor. Sweet sir, I would I could conferre this or 
 any kindnesse vpon you : I wonder the boy comes not 
 away with my Hobby. Now sir, as I was proceeding: 
 when you blow the death of your Fox in the field or 
 couert, then must you sound 3. notes, with 3. windes, and 
 recheat : marke you sir, vpon the same with 3. windes. 
 
 Acad. I pray you sir — 851 
 
 Am^r. Now sir, when you come to your stately gate, 
 as you sounded the recheat before, so now you must 
 sound the releefe three times. 
 
 Acad. Releefe call you it? it were good euery patron 
 would [wind that horne.]^ 856 
 
 Amor. O sir, but your reliefe is your [cheifest and] 
 sweetest note, that is sir, when your hounds hunt after 
 a game vnknowne, and then you must sound one long 
 
 ' ' untapering," MS. ^ ' beau deserte,' MS. = ' finde the 
 
 home,' edits. 
 
sc.s] from pernag(0u0» 107 
 
 and six short, the second wind, two short and one long, 
 the third wind, one long and two short. 86i 
 
 Acad. True sir, it is a very good trade now adayes 
 to be a villaine, I am the hound that hunts after a game 
 vnknowne, and [hee] blowes the villaine. 864 
 
 Amor. Sir, I will blesse your eares with a very pretty 
 story, my father out of his owne cost and charges keepes 
 an open table for all kinde of dogges. 
 
 Acad. And he keepes one more by thee. 868 
 
 Amor. He hath your Grey -hound, your Mungrell, 
 your Mastife, your Leurier, your Spaniell, your Kennets, 
 Terriers, Butchers dogs, Bloud-hounds, Dunghill dogges, 
 trindle tailes, prick-eard curres, small Ladies puppies, 
 [raches ^] and Bastards. 873 
 
 Acad. What a bawdy knaue hath he to his father, 
 that keepes his Rachell, hath^ his bastards, and lets his 
 [sonne^] be plaine Ladies [puppye*], to beray a Ladies 
 
 Chamber. 877 
 
 Amor. It was my pleasure two dayes ago, to take a 
 gallant leash of Grey-hounds, and into my fathers Parke 
 I went, accompanied with two or three Noblemen of 
 my neere acquaintance, desiring to show them some of 
 the sport: I causd the Keeper to seuer the rascall 
 Deere, from the Buckes of the first head: now sir, a 
 Biicke the first yeare is a Fawne, the second yeare a 
 pricket, the third yeare a Sorell, the fourth yeare a Soare, 
 the fift a Buck of the first head, the sixt yeare a compleat 
 Buck : as likewise your Hart is the first yeare a Calfe, 
 the second yeare a Brochet, the third yeare a Spade, the 
 fourth yeare a Stagge, the fift yeare a great Stag, the 
 sixt yeare a Hart : as likewise the Roa-bucke is the first 
 
 '' Caches,' edits. ^'getts.'MS. '' sonnes,' edits. ''puppets,' 
 
 edits. 
 
io8 %^z Wittnvm [Act II. 
 
 ■ yeare a Kid, the second yeare a Girle, the third yeare a 
 Hemuse: and these are your speciall beasts for chase, or 
 as wee Huntsmen calP it, for venery. 
 
 Acad. If chaste be taken for venery, thou art a more 
 speciall beast then any in thy fathers forrest. Sir I am 
 sorry I haue been so troublesome to you. 896 
 
 Am. I [knewe^] this was the readiest way to chase 
 away the Scholler, by getting him into a subiect he can- 
 not talke of, for his life. Sir I will borrow so much 
 time of you as to finish this my begun storie. Now sir, 
 after much trauell we singled a Buck, I rode that same 
 time vpon a Roane gelding, and stood to intercept [him] 
 from the thicket : the Buck broke gallantly : my great 
 Swift being disaduantaged in his slip was at the first 
 behinde, marry presently [hee] coted and out-stript them, 
 when as the Hart ^ presently discended to the Riuer, and 
 being in the water, proferd, and reproferd, and proferd 
 againe: and at last he vpstarted at the other side of the 
 water which we call [the] soyle of the Hart, and there other 
 huntsmen met him with an adauntreley*, we followed in 
 hard chase for the space of eight hours, thrise our hounds 
 were at default, and then we cryed a slaine, streight ^ so ho : 
 through good reclaiming my faulty hounds found their, 
 game againe, and so went through the wood with gallant 
 noice ® of musicke, resembling so many Violls Degambo : at 
 last the Hart laid him downe, and [whilst] the Hounds 
 seized vpon him, he groned and wept, and dyed. In 
 good faith it made me weepe too, to think of Acteons 
 fortune, which my Ouid speakes of. He reades Quid. 
 Militat omnis amans, et hdbet sua castra Cupido. 
 
 Acad. Sir, can you put me in any hope of obtayning 
 my sute. 922 
 
 ' ' terme/ MS. " ' know,' edits. ^ ' bucke,' MS. • ' advan- 
 
 treilley,' MS. ' ' streare,' MS. ' ' notice,' B. 
 
sc. 6.] from ^£rna00u0* 109 
 
 Amor. In good faith Sir, if I did not loue you as 
 my soule, I would not make you acquainted with the 
 mysteries of my'- art. 925 
 
 Acad. Naye, I will not dye of a discourse yet, if I 
 can choose. 
 
 Amor. So sir, when we had rewarded our Dogges 
 with the small guttes and the lights, and the bloud : the 
 Huntsmen hallowed, so ho, \yenus accoupler^\ and so 
 coupled the Dogges, and then [returning^] homeward, 
 another company of Houndes that lay at aduantage, had 
 their couples cast off and we might heare the Huntsmen 
 cry, horse, decouple, Auant, but streight we hearde him 
 cry, le Amend, and by that I knewe that they had the 
 hare and on foote, and by and by I might see [him] 
 sore and resore, prick and reprick : what is he gone .' ha 
 ha ha ha, these schoUers are the simplest creatures. 938 , 
 
 ACTUS 2. SCEN.'e. 
 
 Enter AmoreTTO and his Page. 
 
 Page. I • wonder what is become of that Ouid de arte 
 amandi, my maister he that for the practise of his discourse 
 is wonte to court his hobby abroad and at home, in his 
 chamber makes a sett speech to his greyhound, desiring 
 that most fayre and amiable dog to grace his company in 
 a stately galliard, and if the dog, seeing him practise his 
 [lofty *] pointes, as his crospoynt [and his] backcaper, 
 chance to beray the roome, he presently doffes his Cap, 
 most solemnly makes a low-leg to [her] ® Lady Ship, 
 taking it for the greatest fauour in the world, that shee 
 would vouchsafe to leaue her Ciuet box, or her sweete gloue 
 behind her. 950 
 
 ' ' our,' MS. ^ ' Venue a. coupler,' edits. ^ ' returned,' edits. 
 
 * ' lusty,' edits. " ' his,' edits. 
 
ijo %^t Mztuvnt [Act II. 
 
 Amor. He open/s Ouid and reads it} 
 
 Page. Not a word more Sir, an't please you, your 
 Hobby will meete you at the lanes end. 
 
 Am. What lack ^, faith I cannot but vent vnto thee a 
 most witty iest of mine. 9SS 
 
 Page. I hope my maister will not breake winde : wilt 
 please you sir to blesse mine eares with the discourse 
 of it. 
 
 Am. Good faith, the boy begins to haue an elegant 
 smack of my stile : why then thus it was lack : a scuruie 
 meere Cambridge scholler, I know not how to define 
 him. 962 
 
 Page. Nay maister, let mee define a meere Scholler. I 
 heard a Courtier once define a meere scholler, to bee animall 
 scabiosum, that is, a liuing creature that is troubled with 
 the itch : or a meere scholler, is a creature that can strike 
 fire in the morning at his Tinder-box, put on a pair of 
 lined slippers, sit rewming till dinner, and then go to his 
 meate when the Bell rings, one that hath a peculiar gift in 
 a cough, and a licence to spit : or if you will ^ haue him 
 defined by negatiues, He is one that cannot make a good 
 legge, one that cannot eat a messe of broth cleanly, one 
 that cannot ride a horse without spur-galling: one that 
 cannot salute a wonan, and looke on her directly, one that 
 cannot — 975 
 
 Am. Inough lacke, I can stay no longer, I am so 
 great in child-birth with this iest : Sirrha, this prsedicable, 
 this saucy groome, because when I was in Cambridge, and 
 lay in a Trundlebed vnder my Tutor, I was content in 
 discreet humilitie, to giue him some place at [my *] Table, 
 and because I inuited the hungrie slaue sometimes to my 
 
 This line is erroneously printed in Roman type in both editions. 
 'Jackey.'MS. ^ ' would,' MS. '' the,' edits. 
 
sc.6.] from ^zvna00u0. m 
 
 Chamber, to the canuasing of a Turkey Pye, or a piece of 
 Venison, which my Lady Grand-mother sent me, he thought 
 himselfe therefore eternally possest of my loue, and came 
 hither to take acquaintance of me, and thought his old 
 familiaritie did continue, and would beare him out in a 
 matter of weight. I could not tell how to rid my selfe 
 better of the troublesome Burre, then by getting him into 
 the discourse of Hunting, and then tormenting him awhile 
 with our wordes of Arte, the poore Scorpion became 
 speechelesse, and suddenly rauished. These Clearkes are 
 simple fellowes, simple fellowes. J^e reads Quid. 
 
 Page. Simple indeede they are, for they want your 
 courtly composition of a foole and of a knaue. Good faith 
 sir a most absolute iest, but me thinkes it might haue beene 
 followed a little farther. 996 
 
 Am. As how my little knaue. 
 
 Page. Why thus Sir, had you inuited him [home] to 
 dinner at your table, and haue put the earning of a Capon 
 vpon him, you should haue scene him handle the knife so 
 foolishly, then run through a iury of faces, then wagging 
 his head, & shewing his teeth in familiaritie, venter vpon it 
 with the same method that he was wont to vntrusse an 
 apple pie or tyrannise [over] an Egge and Butter; then 
 would I have [plied ^] him all dinner time with cleane 
 trenchers, cleane trenchers, and still when he had a good 
 bit of meate, I would haue taken it from him, by giuing 
 him a cleane trencher, and so haue [starv'd^] him in 
 kindnesse. 1009 
 
 Am. Well said subtle lack, put me in minde when I 
 returne againe, that I may make my Lady Mother laugh at 
 the Scholler. He to my game : for you lacke, I would 
 haue you imploy your time till my comming ^, in watching 
 what houre * of the day my Hawke mutes. Exit. 
 
 ' 'applyed,' edits. =' serv'd,' edits. ' ' retume,' MS. *' the time,' MS. 
 
113 %^e MrZtuvnz [Actm. 
 
 Page. Is not this an excellent office to be Apothecarie 
 to his worships hawke, to sit [skoring^] on the wall, how 
 the Phisicke workes, and is not my maister an absolute 
 villaine, that loues his Hawke, his Hobby, and his Grey- 
 hound, more then any mortall creature : do biit dispraise a 
 feather of his hawkes traine, and he writhes his mouth, and 
 sweares, for he can do that onely with a good grace, that 
 you are the most shallow braind fellow that liues : do but 
 say his horse stales with a good presence, and hee's your 
 bond-slaue : when he returnes He tell twentie admirable 
 lyes of his hawke, and then I shall be his little rogue, and 
 his white villaine for a whole week after. Well let others 
 complaine, but I thinke there is no felicitie to the seruing of 
 a foole. 1028 
 
 ACT. 3. 5CjSZV. 1. 
 Sir Rad.^ Recorder. Page. Sig. iMMERl'ro. 
 
 5'. Rad. Signior Immerito, you remember my caution, 
 for the * tithes, and my promise for farming^ my tithes at 
 such a rate. 1031 
 
 Im. I, and please your worship Sir. 
 
 6'. Rad. You must put in security for the performance 
 of it in such sorte as I and maister Recorder shall 
 like* of. 1035 
 
 Im. I will an't please your worship. 
 
 ^. Rad. And because I will be sure that I haue con- 
 ferred this kindenesse vpon a sufficient man, I haue desired 
 maister Recorder to take examination of you. 1039 
 
 Pag. My maister (it seemes) tak's him for a thiefe, but 
 he hath small reason for it, as for learning it's plaine he 
 neuer stole any, and for the liuing he knowes himselfe 
 how he comes by it, for lett him but eate a measse of fur- 
 
 '' scouting,' edits. '^ ' Randoll,' MS. =' your,' MS. * 'thinke,' MS. 
 
sc. 1.] from ^erna!50ue(. 113 
 
 menty this seauen yeare, and yet he shall neuer be able to 
 recouer himselfe : alas poore sheepe that hath fallen into the 
 hands of such a fox. 1046 
 
 Sir Rad. Good maister Recorder take your place by me, 
 and make tryall of his gifts, is the clerke there to recorde 
 his examination, [oh ^'J the Page shall serue the turne. 
 
 Pag. Tryal of his gifts, neuer had any gifts a better 
 trial, why Immerito his gifts haue appeared in as many 
 coloures, as the Rayn-bowe, first to maister Amoretto in 
 colour of the sattine suite he weares : to my Lady in the 
 similitude of a loose gowne: to my maister, in the likenesse^ 
 of a siluer basen, and ewer : to vs Pages in the semblance 
 of new suites and poyntes. So [that] maister Amoretto 
 playes the gul in a piece of a parsonage: my maister 
 adornes his cuppoord with a piece of a parsonage, my 
 mistres vpon good dayes, puts on a piece of a parsonage*, 
 and we Pages playe at blowe pointe for a piece of a 
 parsonage, I thinke heer's tryall inough for one mans 
 gifts. 1062 
 
 Reco. For as much as nature hath done her part in 
 making you a hansome 'likely man. 
 
 Pag. He is a hansome * young man indeed, and hath a 
 proper gelded parsonage. 1066 
 
 Reco. In the next place^ some art is requisite for the 
 perfection of nature : for the tryall whereof, at the request 
 of my worshipfull friend, I will in some sort propound 
 questions fitt to be resolued by one of your pro- 
 fession, say what ' is a [parson ^] that was neuer at the 
 vniuersity ? 1072 
 
 Im. A [parson ^] that was neuer in the vniuersity, is a 
 lining creature that can eate a tithe pigge. 
 
 ^ ' or,' MS. " ' similitude,' MS. ^ ' my misters . . . parsonage ' 
 
 omitted in the MS. ' ' proper,' MS, ° ' person,' edits. 
 
 I 
 
114 %'^e 1R,ctuunc [Actin. 
 
 Rec. Very well answerd, but you should haue added, 
 and must be officious to his patrone: write downe that 
 answer to .shew his learning in logick. 1077 
 
 Sir Rod. Yea boy write that downe. Very learnedly in 
 good faith, I pray now let me aske you one question that 
 I remember, whether is the Masculine gender or the feminine 
 more worthy? 108 1 
 
 Im. The Feminine sir. 
 
 6'. Rod. The right answer, the right answer. In good 
 faith I haue beene of that mind alwayes ; write boy that, 
 to shew hee is a Grammarian. 1085 
 
 Pag. No maruell my maister be against the Grammer, 
 for he hath alwayes made false latine in the Genders. 
 
 Rec. What Vniuersity are you of ? 
 
 Im. Of none [sir]. 1089 
 
 Sir Rad. He tells trueth, to tell trueth is an excellent 
 vertue. Boy make two heads, one for his learning, another 
 for his vertues, and referre this to the head of his vertues, 
 not of his learning. 
 
 Pag. What, halfe a messe of good qualities referred to 
 an asse head .^ 1095 
 
 Sir Rad. Nowe maister Recorder, if. it please you I 
 will examine him in an author, that will sound him to 
 the depth, a booke of Astronomy otherwise called an 
 Almanacke. 1099 
 
 Rec. Very good, Sir Raderike ^, it were to be wished that 
 there were no other booke of humanity, then there would 
 not bee such busie state-prying fellowes as are now a dayes, 
 proceede good sir. 
 
 Sir Rad. What is the Dominicall letter ? 
 
 Im. C, sir, and please your worship. 1105 
 
 < ' Randall,' MS. 
 
sc-'] from ^ccna00u0, 115 
 
 6". Rod. A very good answer, a very good answer, 
 the very answer of the booke, write downe that, and referre 
 it to his skill in philosophy. 
 
 Pag. C, the Dominican letter: it is true, craft and 
 cunning do so dominere : yet rather C and D, are domini- 
 call letters, that is crafty Dunsery. im 
 
 6". Rod. How many dales hath September ? 
 
 Im. [Thirty dayes hath September] Aprill, lune and 
 Nouember, February hath 38. alone and all the rest hath 
 30 and one. 1115 
 
 .S. Rod. Very learnedly in good faith, he hath also a 
 smacke in poetry, write downe that boy, to shew his 
 learning in poetry. 
 How many miles from Waltham to London ? 
 
 Im. Twelue Sir. 1120 
 
 6". Rad. How many from Newmarket to Grantham ? 
 
 Im. Ten Sir. 
 
 Pag. Without doubt [in his dayes] he hath beene some 
 Carriers horse. 
 
 6". Rad. How call you him that is cunning in 1.2. 3. 4. 5. 
 and the Cipher? 1126 
 
 Im. A good Arithmatician. 
 
 5". Rad. Write downe that answeare of his, to show his 
 learning ^ in Arithmetick. 
 
 Pag. He must nedes be a good Arithmetician that 
 counted money so lately. 1131 
 
 vS. Rad. When is the new moone ? 
 Im. The last quarter the 5. day, at a. of the cloke and 
 38. minuts in the morning. 
 
 6'. Rad. Write him downe, how cal you him, that is 
 weather-wise.' 1136 
 
 ' ' cunning," MS. 
 I a 
 
ii6 %^e Heturnt [achii. 
 
 Recor. A good Ast[r]onomer. 
 
 ^'e Rod. Sirrha boy, write him downe for a good 
 Astronomer. 
 
 Page. As Colit astra. "4° 
 
 6". Rod. What day of the month lights the Queenes day 
 on? 
 
 Im. The 17. of Nouember. 
 
 vS. Rod. Boy refeere this to his vertues, and write him 
 down a good subiect. "45 
 
 Pag. Faith he were an excellent subiect for 3. or 3. 
 good wits, he would make a fine Asse for an ape to 
 ride vpon. 
 
 6'. Rod. And these shall suffice for the parts of his 
 learning, now it remaines to try whether you bee a man 
 of good Utterance, that is, whether you can aske for the 
 strayed Heifer with the white face, as also chide the boyes 
 in the belfrie, and bid the Sexton whippe out the dogges : 
 let mee heare your voyce. 1154 
 
 Im. If any man or woman. 
 
 6'. Rod. Thats too high. 
 
 Im. If any man or woman. 
 
 S. Rod. Thats too lowe. 
 
 Im. If any man or woman, can tell any .tydings of a 
 Horse with fowre feete, two eares, that did straye' about 
 the seuenth howre, three minutes in the forenoone the 
 fift day. , 1162 
 
 Pag. [He talks ^] of a horse iust as it were the Ecclipse 
 of the Moone. 
 
 5. Rod. Boy wryte him downe for a good vtterance : 
 Maister Recorder, I thinke he hath beene examined 
 sufficiently. 
 
 ' ' I tooke,' edits. ; ' A talks,' qonjectured by Malone. 
 
sc. 2.J from ^zvna00u0* 117 
 
 Rec. I, Sir Radericke,^ tis so, wee haue tride him very 
 throughly. 
 
 Pag. I, we haue taken an inuentory of his good parts 
 and prized them accordingly. 1171 
 
 S. Rod. Signior Immerito, forasmuch as we haue made 
 a double tryall of thee, the one, of your learning, the other 
 of your erudition : it is expedient also in the next place to 
 giue you a fewe exhortations, considering [that] the^ 
 greatest Clarkes are not the wisest men : this is therefore first 
 to exhort you to abstaine from Controuersies. Secondly 
 not to gird, at men of worship, such as my selfe, but to 
 vse your [witt^] discreetly. Thirdly not to speake when 
 any man or woman coughs : doe so, and in so doing 
 I will perseuer to bee your woi'shipfuU friend and louing 
 patron. 1182 
 
 Im. I thanke your worship, you haue beene the deficient 
 cause of my preferment. 
 
 Sir Rad. Lead Immerito in to my sonne, and let him 
 dispatch him, and remember my tithes to bee reserued, 
 paying twelue pence a yeare. I am going to Moore-fieldes, 
 to speake with an vnthrift I should meete at the middle 
 Temple about a purchase, when you haue done follow vs. 
 
 Exeunt Immerito and the Page. 
 
 ACT. 3. SCEN. 2. 
 
 Sir Rad.' and Recorder, 
 
 Sir Rad. Harke you Maister Recorder, I haue flesht 
 my prodigall boy notably, notablie in letting him deale for 
 this liuing, that hath done him much, much good I assure 
 you. "93 
 
 1 'Randall,' MS. ' 'this,' B. = 'selfe,' edits. 
 
ii8 %'^t ISleturne [Actm. 
 
 Hec. You doe well Sir Roderick^, to bestowe your 
 Huing vpon such an one as will be content to share, and on 
 Sunday to say nothing, whereas your proud uniuersity 
 princox thinkes he is a man of such merit the world cannot 
 sufficiently endow him with preferment, an vnthankfuU 
 viper, an vnthankefull Viper that will sting the man that 
 reuiued^him. 120&- 
 
 Why ist not strange to see a ragged clarke. 
 
 Some [start upp ^] weauer or some butchers sonne : 
 
 That scrubd [of*] late within a sleeueles gowne. 
 
 When the commencement, like a morice dance. 
 
 Hath put a bell or two about his legges, 1205 
 
 Created him a sweet cleane gentleman : 
 
 How then he gins to follow fashions. 
 
 He whose thin sire dwell[sj in a smokye roufe. 
 
 Must take Tobacco and must weare a locke. 
 
 His thirsty Dad drinkes in a wooden bowle, 1210 
 
 But his sweet selfe is seru'd in siluer plate. 
 
 His hungry sire will scrape you twenty legges. 
 
 For one good Christmas meale on New-yeares day. 
 
 But his mawe must be Capon crambd each day, 
 
 He must ere long be triple beneficed, 1215 
 
 Els with his tongue hee'l thunderbolt the world. 
 
 And shake each pesant by his deafe-mans eare. 
 
 But had the world no wiser men then I, 
 
 Weede pen the prating parates in a cage, 
 
 A chayre, a candle and a Tinderbox. 1220 
 
 A thacked chamber and a ragged gowne, 
 
 Should be their landes and whole possessions. 
 
 Knights, Lords, and lawyers^ should be log'd & dwel 
 
 Within those ouer stately heapes of stone. 
 
 Which doting syres in old age did erect. 1225 
 
 '' Randall,' MS. ^ ' relieved,' MS. * 'stamell,' edits. "'a,' edits. 
 
 « 'ladies,' MS. 
 
sc. 2.] from ^£rnag(0u0* 119 
 
 Well it were to be wished that neuer a scholler in England 
 might haue aboue fortie pound a yeare. 
 
 6'. Rad. Faith maister Recorder, if it went by wishing, 
 there should neuer a one of them all haue aboue twentie a 
 yeare : a good stipend, a good stipend, maister Recorder. 
 I in the meane time, howsoeuer I hate them all deadly, yet 
 I am fayne to giue them good words. Oh they are 
 pestilent fellowes, they speake nothing but bodkins, and 
 pisse vinegar. Well, do what I can in outward kindnesse 
 to them, yet they doe nothing but beray -^ my house : as 
 there was one that made a couple of knauish verses on my 
 country Chimney now in the time of my soiourning here at 
 London : and it was thus. 1238 
 
 Sir Roderick ^ keepes no Chimney Cauelere, 
 That takes Tobacco aboue once a yeare. 
 And an other made a couple of verses on my Daughter that 
 learnes to play on the viall de gambo. 
 
 Her vyall de gambo is her best content. 
 For twixt her legges she holds her instrument. 1244 
 Very knauish, very knauish, if you looke [intoo't"] maister 
 Recorder. Nay they haue playd many a knauish tricke 
 beside with me. Well, tis a shame indeede there should be 
 any such priuilege for proud beggars as Cambridge, and 
 Oxford are. But let them go, and if euer they light in my 
 handes, if I do not plague them, let me neuer returne home 
 againe to see my wifes wayting mayde. 1251 
 
 Recor. This scorne of knights is too egregious. 
 But how should* these young coltes proue amblers. 
 When the old heauy galled iades do trot : 
 There shall you see a puny boy start vp, 1255 
 
 And make a theame against common lawyers : 
 Then the old vnweldy Camels gin to dance, 
 
 > ' berime,' MS. ^ ' Randall,' MS. ' ' unto it,' edits. 
 
 * 'should' omitted in the MS. 
 
I30 f^^e Beturne [Acriii. 
 
 This fiddling boy playing ^ a fit of mirth : 
 
 The gray bearde scrubbe, and laugh and cry good, good, 
 
 To them againe, boy^ scurdge the barbarians: 1260 
 
 But we may giue the loosers leaue to talke. 
 
 We haue the coyne, then tel them laugh for mee. 
 
 Yet knights and lawyers hope to see the day. 
 
 When we may share here there possessions^, 
 
 And make Indentures of their chaffred skins : 1265 
 
 Dice of their bones to throw in meriment. ^ 
 
 Sir Rod. O good fayth maister Recorder, if I could see 
 that day once. 
 
 Rec. Well, remember another day, what I say : schollers 
 are pryed into of late, and are found- to bee busye fellowes, 
 disturbers of the peace. He say no more, gesse at my 
 meaning, I smel a ratt. 1272 
 
 Sir Rad. I hope at length England will be wise enough, 
 'I hope so, I faith, then an old knight may haue his wench 
 in a corner without any Satyres or Epigrams. But the day 
 is farre spent, Maist. Recorder, & I feare by this time the 
 vnthrift is arriued at the place appointed in Moore fields, 
 let vs hasten to him. He lookes on Ms-watch. 
 
 Recor. Indeed this dayes * subiect transported vs too late, 
 I thinke we shall not come much too late. Exeunt. 
 
 ACT. 3. 5CEN. 3. 
 
 Enter Amoretto, his page, IMMERITO booted. 
 
 Amor. Maister Immerito deliuer this letter to the poser 
 in my fathers name : marry withall some sprinkling, some 
 sprinkling, verbum sapienti sat est, farwell maister Im- 
 merito. T2S4 
 
 ^ 'paying,' B.. ^ 'boy' omitted in the MS. ' 'share their large 
 
 possessions,' MS. * ' this eager,' MS. 
 
sc. 3.] from |@ernasf0u0* 121 
 
 Imer. I thanke your worship most hartely. 1285 
 
 Pag. Is it not a shame to see this old dunce learning his 
 Induction at these yeares : but let him go, I loose nothing 
 by him, for He be sworne but for the bootye of selling the 
 parsonage I should haue gone in mine old cloathes this 
 Christmas. A dunce I see is a neighbourlike ^ brute beast, 
 a man may liue by him. Amor, seemes to make verse. 
 
 Amor. A pox on it, my muse is not so witty as shee was 
 wonte to be ; her nose is like — not yet ^, plague on these 
 mathematikes, they haue spoyled my brayne in making a 
 verse ^. ' 1295 
 
 Page. Hang me if he hath any more mathematikes then 
 wil serue to count the clocke, or tell the meridian howre by 
 rumbling of his panch. 
 
 Am. Her nose is like — 
 
 Page. A coblers shooinghorne. 1300 
 
 Am., Her nose is like a beautious maribone. 
 
 Pag. Marry a sweete snotty mistres. 
 
 Amor. Fayth I do not like it yet : asse as I was to reade 
 a peece of Aristotle in greeke yesternight, it hath put mee 
 out of my English vaine quite. 1305 
 
 Pag. O monstrous lye*, let me be a pointtrusser while 
 I liue if he vnderstands any tongue but English. ■ 
 
 Amor. Sirrha boy remember me when I come in[to] 
 Paules Churchyard to by a Ronzard, and Dubartas in 
 french and Aretine in Italian, and our hardest writers in 
 Spanish, they wil sharpen my witts gallantly. I doe rellish 
 these tongues in some sort. Oh now I do remember I 
 
 • ' is a good neighbourly,' MS. " The punctuation here is taken from 
 
 the MS., andVas also suggested by Malone. = ' veyne in a verse,' MS. 
 
 * 'lyar/MS." 
 
laa %^t 1R,eturn« [Act III. 
 
 hear[d] a report of a Poet newly come out in hebrew, it is a 
 pretty harsh tongue, and [doth] rellish a gentleman traueller, 
 but come letts haste after my father, the fields are fitter 
 [for] ^ heauenly meditations. \Exit^^ i3>6 
 
 Page. My maisters, I could wish your presence at an 
 admirable iest, why presently this great linguist my master 
 will march through Paules Church-yard. Come to a booke 
 binders shop, and with a big Italian looke and a Spanish 
 face aske- for these bookes in Spanish and Italian, then 
 turning, through his ignorance, the wrong end of the booke , 
 vpward vse action, on^ this vnknowne tong after* this sort, 
 first looke on the title and wrinckle his browe, next make as 
 though he red the first page and bites a lip, then with his 
 nayle score the margent as though there were some notable 
 conceit, and lastly when he thinkes hee hath guild the 
 standers by sufficiently, throwes the booke away in a rage, 
 swearing that hee could neuer finde bookes of a true printe 
 s;nce he was last in [Padua ^], enquire [s] after the next 
 marte,_ and so departes. And so must I, for by this time 
 his contemplation is ariued at his mistres nose end, [and] 
 he is as [bragg^] as if he had taken Ostend: by [t]his time 
 he begins to spit, and cry boy, carry my cloake : and now 
 I go to attend on his worship. 1335 
 
 ACT. 3.' SCEN. 4. 
 
 Enter Ingenioso, Furor, Phantasma. 
 
 Ing. Come ladds, this wine whetts your resolution in our 
 designe : it's a needy world with subtill spirits, and there's 
 a gentlemanlike kinde of begging, that may beseeme Poets 
 in this age. 1339 
 
 1' to,' edits. "' Exeunt,' edits. ''over/ MS. »'on,'MS. 
 
 ■^ ' Joadna,' edits. «' glad,' edits. ''2' in A. 
 
sc. 4-] from pjrita00ugf* 133 
 
 Fur. Now by the wing of nimble Mercury, 1340 
 
 By my Thalias siluer sounding harpe: 
 By that caelestiall fier within my brayne, 
 That giues a liuing genius to my lines: 
 How ere my dulled^ intellectuall. 
 
 Capres lesse nimbly then it did a fore^, 1345 
 
 Yet will I play a hunt's vp to my muse: 
 And make her mount from out her sluggish nest^, 
 As high as is the highest spheere in heauen: 
 Awake you paltry trulles of Helicon, 
 Or by this light, He Swagger with you streight : 1350 
 You grandsyre Phoebus with your louely eye, 
 The firmaments eternall vagabond. 
 The heauens [prompter*] that doth peepe and prye, 
 Into the actes of mortall tennis balls. 
 Inspire me streight with some rare delicies, 1355 
 
 Or He dismount thee from thy radiant coach: 
 And make thee [a] poore Cutchy here on earth. 
 
 Phan. Currus auriga paterni. 
 
 Ing. Nay prethee good Furor, doe not [roare®] in rimes 
 before thy time: thou hast a very terrible roaring muse, 
 nothing but squibs and [firewoorks ^], quiet thy selfe a while, 
 and heare thy charge. 1362 
 
 Phan. Hue ades hcec ; animo concipe dicta tuo. 
 
 Ingeni. Let vs on to our deuise, our plot, our proiect. 
 That old Sir Roderick'', that new printed comipendum of all 
 in[i]quitye, that hath not ayred his countrey Chimney once 
 in 3. winters * : he that loues to liue in an od comer here at 
 London, and effect' an odde wench in a nooke, one that 
 loues to liue in a narrow roome, that he may with more 
 facility in the darke, light vpon his wifes waiting maide, one 
 
 ^ ■ dnllard,' MS. ^ ' of yore,' MS. ' ' forth her sluggard's nest,' MS. 
 
 * 'promoter,' edits. ' 'roaue,' edits. ° ' fine ierks,' edits. 
 
 ' 'Randall; MS. = 'yeeres,' MS. » 'affect,' MS. 
 
124 %lit Wittuvne [Act III. 
 
 that loues alife a short sermon and a long play, one that 
 goes to a play, to a whore, to his bedde in [a] Circle, good 
 for nothing in the world but to sweate night caps, and foule 
 faire lawne shirtes, feed a few foggy seruing men, and 
 preferre dunces to liuings. This old Sir Raderick^ (Furor) it 
 shall be thy taske to cudgell with thy thick [thwack^] 
 tearmes, [mary at the first give him some sugar candy 
 tearms,] and then if he will not vnty [the] purse stringes, of 
 his liberality, sting him with tearmes layd in aquafortis and 
 gunpowder. i.sSo 
 
 Furor. In noua fert animus mutatas dicere formas. 
 The Seruile current of my slyding verse, 
 [Gently]^ shal runne into his thick skind eares: 
 Where it shall dwell like a magnifico. 
 Command his slymie spright to honour me : 1385 
 
 For my high tiptoe sfrouting poesye. 
 But if his Starrs hath fauour'd him so ill, 
 As to debarre him by his dunghil thoughts,, 
 lustly to esteeme my verses [towring*] pitch: 
 If his earth [rooting^] snout shal gin to scorhe, .1390 
 
 My verse that giueth immortality: 
 Then, Bella per Emathios. 
 
 Phan. Furor arma ministrat. 
 
 Furor. He shake his heart vpon my verses poynte. 
 Rip out his gutts with [riming^] poinard: 1395 
 
 Quarter his credit with a bloody quill. 
 
 Phan. \Scalpellum\ Calami, Atramentum, charta, lihelli, 
 Sunt'' semper study's arma parata tuis. 
 
 Ing. Inough Furor, wee know thou art a nimble swag- 
 gerer with a goose quill : now for you Phantasma, leaue 
 trussing your pointes, and listen. • 1401 
 
 *' Randall,' MS. ^ ' thwart,' edits. '' Gentle,' edits. * 'lowting,' 
 edits. » 'wroting,' edits.' «' riuing,' edits. ''Sint.'MS. 
 
sc.s-] tvotil pernajsgiUiS* 135 
 
 Phan. Omne tulit punctum. 1402 
 
 Ing. Marke you Amoretto Sir Rodericks^ sonne, to him 
 shall thy piping poetry and sugar endes of verses be directed, 
 he is one, that wil draw out his pocket glasse thrise in a 
 walkcj one that dreames in a night of nothing, but muske 
 and ciuet, and talke[s] of nothing all day long but his' 
 hauke, his hound, and his mistres, one that more admires 
 the good wrinckle of a boote, [or] the curious crinkling of a 
 silke stocking, then all the witt in the world : one that loues 
 no scholler but him whose tyred eares can endure halfe a 
 day togither, his fliblowne sonnettes of his mistres, and her 
 Jouing pretty creatures, her munckey and her puppet: it 
 shal be thy task (Phantasma) to cut this guiles throate with 
 faire tearmes, and if h? hold fast for al thy iuggling rettoricke, 
 fal at defyance with him, and the poking sticke he weares. 
 
 Phan. Simul extulit ensem. 141 7 
 
 Ing. Come braue mips ^, gather vp your spiritts, and let 
 vs march on like aduenturous knights, and discharge a 
 hundredth poeticall spiritts vpon them. 
 
 Phan. Est deus in nobis, agitante calescimus illo. 
 
 Exeunt, 
 
 ACT. 3. SCEN. 5. 
 
 Enter Philomusus, STUdiosO. 
 
 Stud. Well Philomusus, we neuer scaped so faire a 
 scouring: why yonder are purseuantes out for the french 
 Doctor, and a lodging bespoken for him and his man in 
 newgate. It was a teirrible feare that made vs cast our 
 hayre. 1426 
 
 Phil. And canst thou sport at our calamityes? 
 And countest vs happy to scape prisonment? 
 
 1 'Randall's,' MS. ' 'nirnphs,' B. 
 
136 qiifz Mttttvnt [Act III. 
 
 Why the wide world that blesseth some with wayle,^ 
 Is to our chayned thoughts a darkesome gayle: 1430 
 
 Sttal. Nay prethee friend these wonted tearmes forgo, 
 He doubles griefe that comments on a wo. 
 
 PMl. Why do fond men tearme it impiety, 
 To send a wearisome sadde grudging Ghost, 
 Vnto his home, his long, long, lasting home? 1435 
 
 Or let them make our life lesse greeuous be. 
 Or suffer vs to end our misery. 
 
 S/ud. Oh no the sentinell his watch must keepe, 
 Vntill his Lord do lycence him to sleepe : 
 
 PAiL It's time to sleepe within our hollowe graues, 
 And rest vs in the darkesome wombe of earth : 1441 
 
 Dead things are graued, and bodies are no lesse 
 Pined and forlorne like Ghostly carcases. 
 
 Stud. Not long this tappe of loathed life can runne, 
 Soone commeth death, and then our woe is done. 
 Mean time good Philomusus be content, 1445 
 
 Letts spend our dayes in hopefull merryment. 
 
 Phil. Curst be our thoughts when ere they dreame 
 of hope : 
 Band be those happs that henceforth flatter vs. 
 When mischiefe doggs vs still and still for aye. 
 From our first byrth vntill our burying day. 1450 
 
 In our first gamesome age, our doting sires 
 Carked and cared to haue vs lettered : 
 Sent vs to Cambridge where our oyle is spent ^ : 
 Vs our kinde CoUedge from the^ teate did teare: 
 And for'st vs walke before we weaned weare, 1455 
 
 From that time since [y]wandered haue we still : 
 In the wide world, vrg'd by our forced will. 
 Nor euer haue we happy fortune tryed : 
 
 1 -wealth,' MS. ^ 'yspent,' MS. ' 'her,' MS. 
 
sc. 5-] from perna00u0* 137 
 
 Then why should hope with our [rent^] state abide? 
 Nay let vs run vnto the [balefull ^] caue, 1460 
 
 Pight in the hollow ribbs of craggy* cliffe, 
 Where dreary owles do shrike the liue-long night, 
 Chasing away the byrdes of chearefuU light : 
 Where yawning Ghosts do howle in ghastly wise, 
 Where that dull hollow ey'd, that staring, syre, 1465 
 
 Yclept Dispaire hath his sad mansion. 
 Him let vs finde, and by his counsell we, 
 Will end our too much yrked misery.* 
 
 Stud. To wayle thy happs argues a dastard minde. 
 
 Phil. To heare^ too long argues an asses kinde. 
 
 Stud^ Long since the worst chance of the die was 
 cast, 14 7 1 
 
 Phil. But why should that word worst so long time 
 last? 
 
 Stud. Why doth ' thou now these sleepie * plaints com- 
 mence ? 
 
 Phil. Why should I ere be duld with patience? 
 
 Stud. Wise folke do beare [what] ^ strugling cannot 
 mend. 1475 
 
 Phil. Good spirits must with thwarting fates contend. 
 
 Stud. Some hope is left our fortunes to redresse, 
 
 Phil. No hope but this, ere^" to be comfortlesse. 
 
 Stud. Our Hues remainder gentler hearts may finde. 
 
 Phil. The gentlest harts to vs will proue vnkind. 
 
 1 'tent,' edits. ^ < ^asefull,' edits. »' crabby,' MS. 'These 
 
 two lines form one in the MS., 'And by his counsell end our miserye.' 
 ' Corrected to ' beare ' in B. * This and the following line are omitted 
 
 in the MS. ' Corrected to ' dost ' in B. ' ' thy sleeping," MS; 
 
 » 'with,' edits. " 'still,' MS. 
 
138 %^z Heturne [Act. iv. 
 
 ACT. i. SCEN. 1. 
 
 Sz'r Radericke and Prodigo, at one corner of the Stage. Record\er\ 
 and Amoretto at the other. Two Pages scouring of Tobacco pipes. 
 
 I 
 Sir Rad. M. Prodigo, M. Recorder hath told you lawe, 
 
 your land is forfeited : and for me not to take the forfeiture, 
 
 were to breake the Queenes law, for marke you, its law to 
 
 take the forfeiture : therfore not to [take ^] it is to breake 
 
 the Queenes law, and to breake the Queenes law is not to 
 
 be a good subiect, and / meane to bee a good subiect. 
 
 Besides, I am a Justice of the peace, and being Justice of 
 
 the peace I must do iustice, that is law, that is to take the 
 
 forfeiture, especially hauing taken notice of it. Marrie 
 
 Maister Prodigo, here are a few shillings, ouer and besides 
 
 the bargaine. 1491 
 
 Prod. Pox on your shillings, sblood a while agoe, before 
 he had me in the lurch, who but my coozen Prodigo, you 
 are welcome my coozen Prodigo, take my coozen Prodigoes 
 horse, a cup of Wine for my coozen Prodigo, good faith you 
 shall sit here good coozen Prodigo, a cleane trencher for 
 my coozen Prodigo, haue a speciall care of my coozen 
 Prodigoes lodging : now maister Prodigo with a pox, and a 
 few shillings for a vantage, a plague on your shillings, pox 
 on your shillings, if it were not for the Sergeant which 
 dogges me at my heeles, a plague on your shillings, pox 
 on your shillings, pox on yqur selfe and your shillings, 
 pox on your worship, if I catch thee at Ostend: I dare not 
 staye for the Sergeant.^ {Exit. 
 
 S. Rad. Pag. Good faith Maister Prodigo is an ex- 
 cellent fellow, he takes the [Cuban ebullition*] so excellently. 
 
 Amor. Page. He is a good liberall Gentleman, he hath 
 bestowed an ounce of Tobacco vpon vs, and as long as it 
 
 ' ' breake,' edits. " This speech is somewhat shortened in the MS. 
 
 ' ' Gulan ebulHtiOt'edxis. 
 
sc.i.] tvom ^tvna0&ix^. 139 
 
 lasts, come cut and long-taile, weele spend it as liberally 
 for his sake.^ • ' 1510 
 
 5". Rad. Page. Come fill the Pipe quickly, while my 
 maister is in his melancholie humour, it's iust the melancholy 
 of a Colliers horse. 
 
 Amor. Page. If you cough lacke after your Tobacco, 
 for a punishment you shall kisse the Pantofle. 1515 
 
 5. Rad. It's a foule ouer-sight, that a man of worship 
 cannot keepe a wench in his house, but there must be 
 muttering and surmising : it was the wisest saying that my 
 father euer vttered, that a wife was the^ name of necessitie, 
 not of pleasure : for what do-mea. marry for, but to stocke 
 their ground, and to haueonelo looke to the linnen, sit at 
 the vpper end of the table, and carue vp a Capon : one that 
 can weare a hood like a Hawke, and couer her foule face 
 with a Fanne : but there's no pleasure alwayes to be tyed 
 to a piece of Mutton, sometimes a messe of stewd broth 
 will do well, and an vnlac'd Rabbet is best of all : well for 
 mine owne part, I haue no great cause to complaine, for I 
 am well prouided of three b'ounsing wenches, that are mine 
 owne fee-simple : one of them I am presently to visit, if I can/ 
 rid my selfe cleanly of this company [without berayeing]. 
 Let me see how the day goes : {hee puis his Watch out.) 
 preciouB coales, the time is at hand, I must meditate on an 
 excuse to be gone. . 1533 
 
 Record. The ^ which I say, is grounded on the Statute 
 I spake of before, enacted in the raigne of Henry the 6. 
 
 Amor. It is a plaine case, whereon I mooted in our 
 Temple, and that was this : put case there be three 
 bretheren, lohn a Nokes, lohn a Nash, and lohn a Stile: 
 lohn a Nokes the elder, lohn a Nash the younger, lohfi a 
 Stile the youngest of all, lohn a Nash the yonger dyeth 
 
 ' ' their sakes/ MS. = ' a,' MS. = 'That,' B. 
 
 K 
 
13© %'^z TSittuvne [achv. 
 
 ■ 
 
 without issue of his body lawfully begotten : whether shall 
 , his lands ascend to /oAn a Noakes the elder, or discend to 
 lohn a Stile the youngest of all ? The answer is : The 
 lands do collaterally descend, not ascend. 1544 
 
 Recor. Very true, and for a proofe hereof I will shew 
 you a place in Littleton, which is verye pregnant in this 
 point. 
 
 AC7US 4. SCENA2. 
 Enter INGENIOSO, FUROR, PHANTASMA. 
 
 Ing. He pawne my wittes, that is, my reuenues, my land, 
 my money, and whatsoeuer I haue, for I haue nothing but 
 my wit, that they are at hand : why any sensible snout 
 may winde [out] Maister Amoretto and his Pomander, 
 Maister Recorder and his two neates feete that weare no 
 sockes. Sir Radericke^ by his rammish complexion. 
 Olet Gorgoinus hyrcum, S't. Lupus in fabula. Furor fire 
 the Touch-box of your^ witte: Pkantasma, let your in- 
 uention play tricks like an Ape : begin thou Furor, and 
 open like a phlapmouthed hound : follow thou Pkantasma 
 like a Ladies Puppie : and as for me, let me alone, He come 
 after like a [good] Water-dogge that will shake them off, 
 when I haue no vse of them. My maisters, the watch- 
 word is giuen. Furor discharge. 1561 
 
 Furor to S. Rad. The great proiector of the Thunder- 
 bolts, 
 He that is wont to pisse whole cloudes of raine. 
 Into the earth vast gaping vrinall. 
 
 Which that one ey'd subsicer of the skie, 1565 
 
 Don Phcebus empties by caliditie : 
 He and his Townesmen Planets [bring ^] to thee. 
 Most fatty lumpes of earths [felicitie*]. 
 
 » ' Randall/ MS. ' ' thy cannon—' MS. = ' brings,' edits. 
 
 ' ' facilitie,' edits. 
 
s<=-2] from P£rna00u0> 131 
 
 5. Rad. Why will this fellowes English breake the 
 Queenes peace, I will not seeme to regard him. 1570 
 
 Phan. to Am. MeccEnas atauis edite regihus, 
 O et prcBsidium, et duke decus meum, 
 Dij faciant votis vela secunda iuis. 
 
 Inge. God saue you good maister Recorder, and good 
 fortunes follow your deserts. I thinke I haue curst him 
 sufficiently in few words. 1576 
 
 5". Rad. What haue we here, three begging Souldiers, 
 come you from Ostend, or from Ireland'^ 
 
 Pag. Cuium pecus, an Mcelibei}-! haue vented all the 
 Latin one man had. 1580 
 
 Phan. Quid dicam amplius? domini similis os. 
 
 Amor. pag. Let him alone I pray thee, to him againfe, 
 tickle him there. 
 
 Phan. Quam dispart domino dominarisf 1584 
 
 Rec. Nay that's plaine in Littleton, for if that fee-simple 
 and the fee taile be put together, it is called hotch potch : 
 now this word hotch potch in English is a Pudding, for in 
 such a pudding is not commonly one thing onely, but one 
 thing with another. 1589 
 
 Amor. I thinke I do remember this also at a mooting 
 in our Temple : so then this hotch potch seemes a terme of 
 similitude. 
 
 Furor to S. Rad. Great Capricornus, of thy ^ head 
 take keepe, 
 Good Virgo watch, while that thy worship sleepe, 
 And when thy swelling [bladder] vents amain^, 1595 
 
 Then Pisces be thy sporting Chamberlaine. 
 
 6". Rad. 1 thinke the deuill hath sent some of his family 
 to torment me. 
 
 » 'the,'B. 
 K 3 
 
132 %'^t Heturne [achv. 
 
 Amor. There is taile generall and taile speciall, and 
 Littleton is very copious in that theame : for taile generall, 
 is, when lands are giuen to a man, and his heyres of his 
 body begotten : Taile speciall, is when lands are giuen 
 to a man, and to his wife, and to the heires of their 
 two bodyes lawfully begotten, and that is called Taile 
 speciall. 1605 
 
 [iS^c.-^] Very well, and for his oath I will giue a distinc- 
 tion: there is a materiall oath, and a formall oath: the 
 formall oath may be broken, the materiall may not be 
 broken : for marke you sir, the law is to take place before 
 the conscience, and therfore you may, vsing me your 
 counsellor, cast him in the suit : there wants nothing to the 
 full meaning of this place, 1612 
 
 Phan. Nihil hie nisi Carmina desunt. 
 
 Ing. An excellent obseruation in good faith, see how 
 the old Fox teacheth the yong Cub to wurry a sheepe, or 
 rather sits himselfe like an old Goose, hatching the addle 
 brarne of maister Amoretto : there is no foole to the Sattin 
 foole, the Veluet foole, the perfumd« foole, and therefore 
 the witty Taylors of this age^ put them vnder colour of 
 kindnesse into a paire of cloath-bags, [breeches and so the 
 fooles are taken away in a cloak-bagg] where a voyder will 
 not serue the turne : and there is no knaue to the barbarous 
 knaue, the [mooting ^] knaue, the pleading knaue : what ho 
 maister Recorder ? Maister Nouerint vniuersi per presentes, 
 not a word he, vnlesse he feele it in his fist. 1625 
 
 Phan. Mitto tibi metulas, cancros imitare legendo. 
 
 S. Rad. to Furor. Fellow what art thou that art so 
 bold? 
 
 Fur. I am the bastard of great Mercurie, 
 Got on Thalia when she was a sleepe : 
 
 ' ' S. Rad.,' edits. '' ' moulting,' edits. 
 
s<=-^-J from ^0rna00usf* 
 
 133 
 
 My Gawdie Grandsire great Apollo high, 1630 
 
 Borne was I heare, but that^ my luck was ill, 
 To all the land vpon the forked hill. 
 
 Phant. O crudelis Alexi nil mea carmina curas'i 
 Nil nostri miserere mori nie deinque cages''-'^ 
 
 S. Rad. Pag. If you vse them thus, my maister is a 
 Justice of peace, and will send you all to the gallowes. 
 
 Phant. Hei inihi quod domino non licet ire tuo. 
 
 Ing. Good maister Recorder, let me retaine you this 
 terme for my cause, for my cause good maister Recorder. 
 
 Recor. I am retained already on ^ the contrary part, I 
 haue taken my fee, be gon, be gon. 1641 
 
 Ing. It's his meaning I should come off: why here is 
 the true stile * of a villaine, the true faith of a Lawyer : it is 
 vsuall with them to be bribed on the one side, and then to 
 take a fee of the other : to plead weakely, and to be bribed 
 and rebribed on the one side, then to be feed and refeed of 
 the other, till at length, per varios casus, by putting the case 
 so often, they make their client so lanke, that they may case 
 them ^ vp in a combe case, and pack them home from the 
 tearme, as though he had trauelled to London to sell his 
 horse onely, and hauing lost their fleeces, liue afterward 
 like p6ore shorne sheepe. 
 
 Furor. The Gods aboue that know great Furors fame, 
 And do adore grand poet Furors name : 
 Granted long since at heauens high parliament, 1655 
 
 That who so Furor shal immortalize. 
 No yawning goblins shall frequent his graue, 
 Nor any bold presumptuous curr shall dare 
 To lifte his legge against his sacred dust. 
 Where ere I [leave*] my rymes, thence vermin fly 1660 
 
 » -all,' MS. ' 'cogis,' MS. » ' by,' MS. « ' slight,' MS. 
 
 ' 'might case him,' MS. ' 'haue,' edits. 
 
134 'QTfi^e Heturttt [Activ. 
 
 All, sauing that foule fac'd vermin pouerty. 
 
 This sucks the eggs of my inuention: 
 
 Euacuates my witts full pigeon house. 
 
 Now may it please thy generous dignity, 
 
 To take this vermin napping as he lyes, 1665 
 
 In the true trappe of liberallity: 
 
 He cause the Pleiades to giue thee thanks, 
 
 He write thy name within the sixteenth spheare : 
 
 He make the Antarticke pole to kisse thy toa. 
 
 And Cinthia to do homage to thy tayle. 1670 
 
 Sir Rad. Pretious coles, thou a man of worship and ' 
 Justice too ? It's euen so, he is ether a madde man or a 
 coniurer : it were well if his words were examined, to see if 
 they be the Queenes [frendes] or no. 
 
 Phant. Nunc si nos audis vt qui es diuinus Apollo, 
 Die mihi, qui mimmos non habet vnde petal} 1676 
 
 Amor. I am stil haunted with these needy [Lattinists; 
 fellow,^] the best counsell I can giue, is to be gone. 
 
 Phaii. Quod peto da Caie, non peto eonsilium. 
 
 Am. Fellow looke to your braines ; you are mad ; you 
 are mad. 1681 
 
 Phan. Semel insaniuimus omnes. 
 
 Am. Maister Recorder, is it not a shame that a gallant 
 
 cannot walke the streete for [these] needy fellowes, and 
 
 that, after there is a statute come out against begging? 
 
 He strikes Ms brest. 
 • • • 
 
 Phant. Pec tor a percussit, pectus quoque robora fiunt. 
 
 Recor. I warrant you, they are some needy graduates : 
 the Vniuersity breakes winde twise a yeare, and lets flie 
 such as these are. 1689 
 
 Ing. So ho maister Recorder, you that are one of the 
 
 ' ' Lattinist fellowes,' edits. 
 
sc. 2-] from ?@erna00usf, 135 
 
 Diuels fellow commoners, one that sizeth [in] the Deuils 
 butteries, sinnes and periuries very lauishly : one that art 
 so deare to Lucifer, that he neuer puts you out of commons 
 for non paiment : you that Hue like a sumner vpon the 
 sinnes of the people : you whose vocation serues to enlarge 
 the territories of Hell, that (but for you) had beene no bigger 
 then a paire of Stockes or a Pillorie : you that hate a 
 schoUer, because he descries your Asses eares : you that are 
 a plague ^ stuffed Cloake-bagge of all iniquitie, which the 
 grand Seruing-man of Hell will one day trusse vp behind 
 him, and carry to his smokie Warde-robe. 1701 
 
 Recor. What frantick fellow art thou, that art possest 
 with the spirit of malediction ? 
 
 Furor. Vile muddy clod of base vnhallowed clay, 
 Thou slimie sprighted vnkinde Saracen : 1705 
 
 When thou wert borne dame Nature cast her Calfe, 
 Forrage and time [hath^] made thee a great Oxe, 
 And now thy grinding iawes deuoure quite. 
 The fodder due to vs of heauenly spright. 
 
 Phant. Nefasio te posuit die quicunque primum et sacri- 
 
 lega manu 1710 
 
 Produxit arhos in nepotum perniciem obpropriumque pagi^. 
 
 Ingeni. I pray yonMonseiur Ploidon, of what Vniuersitie 
 was the first Lawyer of, none forsooth, for your Lawe is 
 ruled by reason, and not by Aite : great reason indeed that 
 a Ploydenist should bee mounted on a trapt Palfrey, with 
 a round Veluet dish on his head, to keepe warme the broth 
 of his witte, and a long Gowne, that makes him looke like 
 a Cedant arma toga, whilest the poore Aristotelians walke 
 in a shorte cloake and a close Venetian hoase, hard by the 
 Oyster-wife : and the silly Poet goes muffled in his Cloake to 
 escape the Counter. And you Maister Amoretto, that art 
 the chiefe Carpenter of Sonets, a priuileged Vicar for the 
 
 » 'plalne,' MS. ^ 'had,' edits. '' pugi,' edits. 
 
136 %'^t lR,eturne [achv. 
 
 lawlesse marriage of Inke and Paper, you that are good for 
 nothing but to commend in a sette speach, [the colour and 
 quantitie ^] of your Mistresses stoole, and sweare it is niost 
 sweete Ciuet : it's fine when that Puppet-player Fortune, 
 must put such a Birchen-lane post in so good a suite, [and 
 suite] such an Asse in so goode fortune. 
 
 Amor. Father shall I draw? 1^29 
 
 5'. Rad. No sohne, keepe thy peace, and hold the 
 peace. 
 
 Inge. Nay do not draw, least you chance to bepisse your 
 credit. 
 
 Furor. Flectere si nequeo superos, Cheronta mouebo. 
 Fearefull Megcera with her snakie twine, 1735 
 
 Was cursed dam vnto thy damned selfe : 
 And Hircan tigers in the desert Rockes, 
 Did foster vp thy loathed hatefull life, 
 Base Ignorance the ^ wicked cradle rockt. 
 Vile Barbarisme was wont to dandle thee : 1740 
 
 Some wicked hell-hound tutored thy youth, 
 And all the grisly sprights of griping hell, 
 With mumming [lookes have ^] dogd thee since thy birth : 
 See how the spirits do houer ore thy head. 
 As thick as gnattes in summer euening tide, 1745 
 
 Balefull Akcto, preethe stay a while. 
 Till with my verses I haue rackt his soule: 
 And when thy soule departs a Cock [may't *] be. 
 No blanke at all in hells great Lotterie. 
 Shame [sit and howle*] vpon thy loathed graue, 1750 
 And howling vomit vp in filthy guise, 
 The hidden stories of thy villanies. 
 
 6". Rad. The Deuill my maisters, the deuill in the 
 likenesse of a Poet, away my maisters, away. [Exit. 
 
 * ' to colour the quantity,' edits. ^ ' thy,' suggested by Malone. 
 
 ' 'looke hath,' edits. * 'may,' edits. ' ' sits and howles,' edits. 
 
sc. 2.J from |B£rna00U0» 137 
 
 Phan. Arma virumque cano, 1755 
 
 Quern fugis ah demens ? 
 
 Amor. Base dog, it is not the custome in Italy to draw 
 vpon euery idle cur that barkes, and did it stand with 
 my reputation : oh, well go too, thanke my Father for 
 your Hues. 1760 
 
 Ing. Fond gul, whom I would vndertake to bastinado 
 quickly, though there were a musket planted in thy mouth, 
 are not you the yong drouer of liuings Academico told me 
 of, that ha[u]nts steeple faires. Base worme must thou 
 needes discharge thy craboun ^ to batter downe the walles 
 of learning. 1766 
 
 Amor. I thinke I haue committed some great sinne 
 against my Mistris, that I am thus tormented with notable 
 villaines : bold pesants I scorne [them], I scorne them. 
 
 Furor to Recor. Nay pray thee good sweet diuell do not 
 thou part, 1770 
 
 I like an honest deuill that will shew 
 Himselfe in a true hellish smoky hew : 
 How like thy snowt is to great Lucifers ! 
 Such tallents had he, such a glaring ^ eye. 
 And such a cunning slight in villanie. 1775 
 
 Recor. Oh the impudencie of this age, and if I take you 
 in my quarters. 
 
 Furor. Base slaue ile hang thee on a crossed rime. 
 And quarter [ — ] 
 
 Ing. He is gone. Furor, stay thy fury. 1780 
 
 5. Rad. Pag. I pray you gentlemen giue 3. groats for 
 a shilling. 
 
 Amo. Pag. What wil you giue me for a good old sute 
 of apparell ? 
 
 Phan. Habet et musca splenem, et formica sua bilis inest. 
 
 1 • crabbyanne,' MS. ^ ' gleering,' B. 
 
138 %^t 'M,etuTnt [Act IV, 
 
 In£: Gramercie good lads : this is our share in hap- 
 pinesse, to torment the happy : lets walke a long and laugh 
 at the iest, its no staying here long, least Szr Radericks^ 
 army of baylifes and clownes be sent to apprehend vs. 
 
 Phan. Procul hinc, procul ite prophani. 1790 
 
 He lash [Apolles ^] selfe with ierking hand, 
 Vnlesse he pawne his wit to buy me land : 
 
 ACT. 4. SCBN. 3. 
 Burbage'- Kempe. 
 
 Bur. Now Will Kempe, if we can intertaine these 
 schollers at a low rate, it wil be well, they haue often- 
 times a good conceite in a part. 1795 
 
 Kempe. Its true indeede, honest Dick, but the slaues are 
 somewhat proud, and besides, it is a good sport in a 
 part, to see them neuer speake in their walke, but at the 
 end of the stage, iust as though in walking with a fellow 
 we should neuer speake but at a stile, a gate, or a ditch, 
 where a man can go no further. I was once at a Comedie 
 in Cambridge, and there I saw a parasite make faces and 
 
 mouths of all sorts on this fashion. 
 
 « 
 
 Bur. A little teaching will mend these faults, and it may 
 bee besides they will be able to pen a part. 1805 
 
 Kemp. Few of the vniuersity [men] pen plaies well, they 
 smell too much of that writer Quid, and that writer Meta- 
 morphosis, and talke too much of Proserpina & luppiter. 
 Why heres our fellow Shakespeare puts them all downe, I 
 and Ben lonson too. O that Ben Tonson is a pestilent fellow, 
 he brought vp Horace giuing the Poets a pill, but our fellow 
 Shakespeare hath giuen him a purge that made him beray 
 his credit : 1813 
 
 ^ 'Randall's, MS. = 'ApoUon,' edits. » 'Eurbidge,' MS. 
 
SC-3.J from ^erna0s(u0* 139 
 
 Bur. Its a shrewd fellow indeed : I wonder these schollers 
 stay so long, they appointed to be here presently that we 
 might try them : oh here they come. 
 
 Stud. Take heart, these lets our clouded thoughts 
 refine^ 
 The sun shines brightest when it gins decline. 
 Bur. M. Phil, and M. Stud. God saue you. ^ - 
 Kemp. M. Phil, and M. Otioso'^ well met.~ "'' 1820 
 
 Phil. The same to you good M. Burbage. What M. 
 Kempe how doth the Emperour of Germany ? 
 
 Stud. God saue you M. Kempe: welcome M. Kempe 
 from dancing the morrice ouer the Alpes, 1824 
 
 Kemp. Well you merry knaues you may come to the 
 honor of it one day, is it not better to make a foole of the 
 world as I haue done, then to be fooled of the world, as you 
 schollers are ? But be merry my lads, you haue happened 
 vpon the most excellent vocation in the world for money : 
 they come North and South to bring it to our playhouse, 
 and for honours, who of more report, then Dick Burbage & 
 Will: Kempe, he is not coqnted a Gentleman, that knowes 
 not Dick Burbage & Wil Kemp, there's not a country 
 wench tha[t] ^ can dance Sellengers Round but can talke of 
 Dick Burbage and Will Kem.pe. 1835 
 
 Phil. Indeed M. Kempe you are very famous, but that is 
 as well for [your] workes in print as your part in [que ^]. 
 
 Kempe. You are at Cambridge still with [size que* ] and 
 be lusty humorous poets, you must vntrusse, I [made^,] this 
 my last circuit, purposely because I would be iudge of your 
 actions. 1841 
 
 Bur. M. Stud. I pray you take some part in this booke 
 and act it, that I may see what will fit you best, I thinke 
 
 ' ' Studioso,' MS. '' ' than,' edits. ^ 'kne,' edits., for 'kue.' 
 
 * 'sicekne,' edits. ° 'road,' edits.' 
 
14° 'ariie IReturne [achv. 
 
 your voice would serue for Hieronimo, obserue how I act it 
 and then imitate mee. 1845 
 
 Stud. Who call[s] Hieronimo from his naked bed ? 
 And, &c. 
 
 Bur. You will do well after a while. 
 
 Kemp. Now for you, [Mr. Philo] me thinkes you should 
 belong to my tuition, and your face me thinkes would be 
 good for a foolish Mayre or a foolish iustice of peace : 
 
 marke me. Forasmuch as there be two states of a 
 
 common wealth, the one of peace, the other of tranquility : 
 two' states of warre, the one of discord, the other of dissen- 
 tion : two states of an incorporation, the one of the 
 Aldermen, the other of the Brethren : two states of magis- • 
 trates, the one of gouerning, the other of bearing rule, now, 
 as I said euen now, for a good thing, thing cannot be said 
 too often : Vertue is the shooinghorne of iustice, that 
 is, vertue is the shooinghorne of doing well, that is, 
 vertue is the shooinghorne of doing iustly, it behooueth 
 mee and is my part to commend this shooinghorne vnto 
 you. I hope this word shooinghorne doth not offend any 
 of you my worshipfull brethren, for you beeing the worship- 
 full headsmen of the towne, know well what the home 
 meaneth. Now therefore I am determined not onely to teach 
 but also to instruct, not onely the ignorant, but also the 
 simple, not onely what is their duty towards their betters, 
 but also what is their dutye towards their superiours : come 
 let mee see how ^ you can doe, sit downe in the chaire. 1870 
 
 Phil. Forasmuch as there be. &c. 
 
 Kemp. Thou wilt do well in time, if thou wilt be ruled by 
 thy betters, that is by my selfe, and such graue Aldermen of 
 the playhouse as I am. 
 
 Bur. I like your face, and the proportion of your body 
 
 ' ' what,' MS. 
 
sc. s] from ?@£rnas(0u0, 141 
 
 for Richard the 3. I pray M. Phil, let me see you act a 
 little of it. 1877 
 
 Phil. Now is the winter of our discontent, 
 Made glorious summer by the sonne of Yorke, 
 
 Bur. Very well I assure you, well M. Phil, and M. Stud. 
 wee see what ability you are of: I pray walke with vs to 
 our fellows, and weele agree presently. 
 
 Phil. We will follow you straight M. Burbage. 
 
 Kempe. Its good manners to follow vs, Maister Phil, and 
 Maister Otioso^. 1885 
 
 Phil. And must the basest trade yeeld vs reliefe? 
 Must we be practis'd to those leaden spouts, 
 That nought [doe^] vent but what they do receiue? 
 Some fatall fire hath scorcht our fortunes wing,. 
 And still we fall, as we do vpward spring: 1890 
 
 As we striue vpward to the vaulted skie, 
 We fall and feele our hatefull destiny. 
 
 Stud. Wonder it is sweet friend thy pleading breath, 
 So like the sweet blast of the southwest wind, 
 Melts not those rockes of yce, those mounts of woe, 
 Congeald in frozen hearts of men below. 1896 
 
 Phil. Wonder as well thou maist why mongst the waues, 
 Mongst the tempestuous [surges of the^] sea. 
 The [waiting*] Marchant can no pitty craue. 
 What cares the wind and weather for their paines? 1900 
 One strikes^ the sayle, another turnes the same. 
 He [slacks*] the maine, an other takes the Ore, 
 An other laboureth and taketh paine, 
 To pumpe the sea into the sea againe. 
 Still they take paines, still the loud windes do blowe,* 
 Till the ships prouder mast be layd belowe: 1906 
 
 1 'Stndioso,' MS. " 'downe,' edits. ' 'waves on raging,' edits. 
 
 * ' waiting,' edits. = ' strikss,' A. '■ ' shakes,' edits. » 
 
142 %'^t TSietuvnt [Activ. sc 3. 
 
 Siu. Fond world that nere thjnkes on that aged man, 
 That Ariostoes old swift paced man, 
 Whose name is Tyme, who neuer lins to run, 
 Loaden with bundles of decayed names, 1910 
 
 The which in Lethes lake he doth intombe, 
 Saue onely those which swanlike schollers take. 
 And doe deliuer from that greedy lake. 
 Inglorious may they Hue, inglorious die. 
 That suffer learning Hue in misery. 1915 
 
 Phil. What caren they, what fame^ their ashes haue, 
 When once thei'r coopt vp in silent graue? 
 
 Stud. If for faire fame they hope not when they dye, 
 Yet let them feare graues stayning Infamy. 
 
 Phil. Their spendthrift heires will [all] those firebrands 
 quench 1920 
 
 Swaggering full moistly on a tauemes bench. 
 
 Stud. No shamed sire for all his glosing heire, 
 Must long be talkt of in the empty ayre. 
 
 &kfd. Beleeue me thou that art my second selfe. 
 My vexed soule is not disquieted, 1925 
 
 For that I misse [th]is gaudy painted state. 
 Whereat my fortunes fairely aim'd of late. 
 For what am I, the meanest of many mo, 
 That earning profit are repaide with wo? 
 But this it is that doth my soule torment, 1930 
 
 To thinke so many actiueable wits. 
 That might contend with proudest birds of Po, 
 Sits now immur'd within their priuate cells. 
 Drinking a long lank watching candles smoake. 
 Spending the marrow of their flowring age, 1935 
 
 In fruitelesse poring on some worme eate leafe : 
 When their deserts shall seeme of due to claime, 
 A cheerfull crop of fruitfull swelling sheafe, 
 
 ' ' forme,' MS. 
 
Actv. sc. ..] from Perna00ugf. 143 
 
 Cockle their haruest is, and weeds their graine \ 
 Contempt their portion their possession paine: 1940 
 
 Stud. Schollers must frame to Hue at a low sayle, 
 
 PMl. Ill sayling where there blowes no happy gale. 
 
 Stud. Our ship is ruin'd, all her^ tackling rent. 
 
 P/iil. And all her gaudy furniture is spent. 
 
 Stud. Teares be the wanes whereon her ruines bide. 
 
 PMl. And sighes the windes that wastes her broken 
 side. 1946 
 
 Stud. Mischiefe the Tilot is the ship to steare. 
 
 FAil. And Wo the passenger this ship doth beare. 
 
 Stud. Come Philomusus, let vs breake this chat, 
 
 Phil. And breake my heart, oh would I could breake 
 that, 1950 
 
 Stud. Lets learne to act that Tragick part we haue. 
 
 Phil. Would I were silent actor in my graue. 
 
 ACTUS 5. SCENA 1. 
 
 Phil, and Stud, become Fidlers with their consort. 
 
 Phil. And tune fellow Fiddlers, Studioso &' I are 
 ready. \They tune. 
 
 Stud, {going aside sayeth.) Fayre felP good Orpheus, that 
 would rather be 
 King of a mole hill, then a Keysars slaue : 1955 
 
 Better it is mongst fidlers to be chiefe, 
 Then at [a] plaiers trencher beg reliefe. 
 But ist not strange [these*] mimick apes should prize 
 Vnhappy Schollers at a hireling rate. 
 
 » ' gaine,' MS. ' ' and oar/ MS. = ' fall,' MS. • ' this,' edits. 
 
144 1^1)0 HS-eturnc [Actv. sc. i. 
 
 Vile world, that lifts them vp to hye degree, i960 
 
 And treades vs downe in groueling misery. 
 England affordes those glorious vagabonds, 
 That carried earst their fardels on their backes. 
 Coursers to ride on through the gazing streetes, 
 Sooping it in their glaring Satten sutes, 1965 
 
 And Pages to attend their maisterships : 
 With mouthing words that better wits haue framed. 
 They purchase lands, and now Esquiers are [namde^]. 
 
 Phil. What^ere they seeme being euen at the best, 
 They are but sporting fortunes scornfull [iest^]. ' 1970 
 
 Stud. So merry fortune is wont from ragges to take, 
 [A^] ragged grome, and him [a^] gallant make. 
 
 Phil. The world and fortune hath playd on vs too long. 
 
 Stud. Now to the world we fiddle must a song. 
 
 Phil. Our life is a playne song with cunning pend, 
 Whose highest pitch in lowest base doth end. 1976 
 
 But see our fellowes vnto play are bent : 
 If not our mindes, letts tune our instruments*. 
 
 Stud. Letts in a priuate song our cunning try. 
 Before we sing to stranger company. 1980 
 
 Phil, jzrag-j. The^ tune. 
 
 How can he sing whose voyce is hoarse with care? 
 How can he play whose heart stringes broken are.' 
 How can he keepe his rest that nere found rest.' 
 How can he keepe his time whome time nere blest? 
 Onely he can in sorrow beare a parte, 1985 
 
 With vntaught hand, and with vntuned hart. 
 Fond arts farewell, that swallowed haue my youth. 
 Adew vayne muses, that haue wrought my ruth. 
 
 ' ' made,' edits. ^ 'jests,' edits. ^ 'some — some,' edits. ' 'instru- 
 ment,' B. » ' Tiiey,' B. 
 
sc. 2.] from l©ertia00U!5. 145 
 
 Repent fond syre that traynd'st thy happlesse sonne, 
 In learnings loare since bounteous almes are done. 1990 
 Cease, cease harsh tongue, vntuned musicke rest: 
 Intombe thy sorrowes in thy hollow breast. 
 
 Stud. Thankes PAzl. for thy pleasant song : 
 Oh had this world a tutch of iuster griefe. 
 Hard rockes would weepe for want of our releife. 1995 
 
 F/iil. The cold of wo hath quite vntun'd my voyce. 
 And made it too too harsh for listining eare: 
 Time was in time of my young fortunes spring, 
 I was a gamesome boy and learned to sing. 
 
 But say fellow musitians, you know best whether we go 
 at what dore must we imperiously beg. 2001 
 
 lack. fid. Here dwells ?svc Raderick^ ^i'oA his .sonne: it 
 may be now at this good time of Newyeare he will be 
 liberall, let vs stand neere and drawe. 
 
 Phil. Draw callest thou it, indeed it is the most desperate 
 kinde of seruice that euer I aduentured on. 2006 
 
 ACr. 5. SCENA 2. 
 
 Enter the two Pages. 
 
 Sir Rod. pa. My maister bidds me tell you that he is 
 but newly fallen a sleepe, and you [forsooth] base slaues 
 must come and disquiet him : what neuer a basket of 
 Capons ? masse, and if he comes, heele commit you all. 
 
 Amor. Pag. Sirra lack, shall you and I play Sir 
 Roderick^ and Amoretto, and reward these fiddlers. He 
 [play] my maister Amoretto, and giue them as much as he 
 vseth. 2014 
 
 Sir Rod. \_page\. And I my old maister Sir Raderick"^: 
 fiddlers play : He reward you, fayth I will. 
 
 ' 'Randall,' MS. 
 L 
 
146 %^e lR,£turne [Act v. 
 
 Amor.pag. Good fayth this pleaseth my sweete mistres 
 admirably : cannot you play twytty twatty foole, or to be at 
 her, to be at her. 2019 
 
 Rad. pag. Haue you neuer a song of maister Dowlands 
 making ? 
 
 Am. pag. Or Hos ego versiculos feci &c. A pox on it, 
 my maister Am. vseth it very often. I haue forgotten the 
 verse. 2024 
 
 Rad. pag. [Sirrha Amoretto*] : here are a couple of 
 fellowes brought before me, and I know not how to decide 
 the cause, looke in my Christmas booke [which of them^] 
 brought me a present. 
 
 Am. pag. On New-yeares day goodman Foole brought 
 you a present, but goodman Clowne brought you none. 
 
 Rad. pag. Then the right is on goodman fooles side. 
 
 Am. pag. My mistres is so sweete, that al the Phisitions 
 in the towne cannot make her stinck, she neuer goes to the 
 stoole, oh she is a most sweete little munkey. Please your ' 
 worship good father yonder are some would speake with 
 you. 2036 
 
 Rad. pag. What haue they brought me any thing, if they 
 haue not, say I take Phisick. 
 
 Forasmuch fiddlers, as I am of the peace, I must needs 
 loue all weapons and instruments, that are for the peace, 
 among which I account your fiddles, because they can 
 neither bite nor scratch, marry now finding your fiddles to 
 iarre, and knowing that iarring is a cause of breaking the 
 peace, I am by the vertue of my office and place to commit 
 your quarelling fiddles to close prisonment in their cases. 
 
 They call within. 
 
 [What] 3 ho Richard, lack. 2046 
 
 Am. Page. The foole within, marres our play without. 
 
 ' ' Sir Theon,' edits. ^ 'who,' edits. ' 'sha,' edits. 
 
sc. z.] from i9trnagf0ug(* 147 
 
 Fiddlers set it on my head, I vse to size my musicke, or go 
 on the score for it, He pay it at the quarters end. 
 
 Rad. Page. Farewell good Pan, sweete \Tsmenias^'\ adieu, 
 Don Orpheus a thousand times farewell. 2051 
 
 lack Fid. You swore you would pay vs for our musick. 
 
 Rad. page. For that He giue Maister Recorders law, and 
 that is this, there is a double oath, a formall oath, and 
 a materiall path : a materiall oath cannot be broken, the 
 formall oath may be broken, I swore formally: farewell 
 Fidlers. 2057 
 
 Phil. Farewell good wags, whose wits praise worth I 
 deeme. 
 Though somewhat waggish, so we all haue beene. 
 
 Stud. Faith fellow Fidlers, heres no siluer found in this 
 place, no not so much as the vsuall Christmas entertain- 
 ment of Musitians, a black lack of Beare, and a Christmas 
 Pye. They walke aside from their fellowes. 
 
 Phil. Where ere we in the wide world playing be. 
 Misfortune beares a paj-t^, and marres our melody, 
 Impossible to please with Musickes straine, 2066 
 
 Our hearts strings [broke will nere be^] tun'd againe. 
 
 Stud. Then let vs leaue this baser fidling trade, 
 For though our purse should mend, our credit fades. 
 
 Phil. Full glad I am to see thy mindes free course, 
 Declining from this trencher waiting trade. 
 Well may I now disclose in plainer guise, 
 What earst I meant to worke in secret wise: 
 My busie conscience checkt my guilty soule. 
 For seeking maintenance by base vassallage, 2075 
 
 * 'Irenias,^ edits. " ' misfortune howles,' MS. ' ' broken are nere 
 
 to be,' edits. 
 
 L 2 
 
148 '^it nztUVnz [Actv. 
 
 And then suggested to my searching^ thought, 
 
 A shepheards poore secure contented life, 
 
 On which since then I doted euery houre. 
 
 And meant this same houre ^ in sadder plight, 
 
 To haue stolne from thee in secrecie^ of night. 2080 
 
 l^Stud.*'] Deare friend thou seem'st to wrong my soule ® 
 too much, 
 Thinking that Studioso would account, 
 That fortune sowre, which thou accomptest sweete. 
 Nor any life to me can sweeter be, 
 Then happy swaines in plaine of Arcady. 2085 
 
 Phil. Why then letts both go spend our little store. 
 In the prouision of due furniture : 
 A shepards hooke, a tarbox and a scrippe. 
 And hast vnto those sheepe adorned hills, 
 Where if not blesse our fortunes we may blesse our 
 wills. ' 2090 
 
 Stud? True mirth we may enioy in thacked stall, 
 Nor hoping higher rise, nor fearing lower fall. 
 
 Phil? Weele therefore discharge these fidlers. Fellow 
 musitions, wee are sory that it hath beene your ill happe to 
 haue had vs in your company, that are nothing but scritch- 
 owles, and night Rauens, able to marre the purest melody : 
 and besids, our company is so ominous, that where we are, 
 thence liberality is packing, our resolution is therefore to 
 wish you well, and to bidde you farewell. 
 
 *Come Stud: let vs hast away, 2100 
 
 Returning neare to this accursed place'. 
 
 1 <„ 
 
 'secret,' MS. ° ' the same how ere,' MS. ^ 'in secret time,' MS. 
 
 ' Inserted correctly in B and in MS. ' ' love, MS. ° Part of 
 
 Philomusns' speech in the MS. ' 'Stud.,' MS. « 'Philo,' MS. 
 
 ' ' this unhappy baye,' MS. 
 
sc. 3,4.J from ^ctna0sfu0* 149 
 
 ACrUS 5. SCENJ 3. 
 
 Enter Ingenioso, Academico. 
 
 Inge. Faith Academico, it's the feare of that fellow, I 
 meane the signe of the seargeants head, that makes me to 
 be so hasty ^ to be gone : to be briefe Academico, writts are 
 out for me, to apprehend me for my playes, and now I am 
 bound for the He of doggs. Furor and Phantasma comes 
 after, remoouing the campe as fast as they can : farewell, mea 
 si quid vota valebtmt. 2108 
 
 Acad. Fayth Ingenioso : I thinke the Vniuersity is a 
 melancholik life, for there a good fellow cannot sit two 
 howres in his chamber, but he shall be troubled with the bill 
 of a [Draper ^] or a Vintner : but the point is, I know not 
 how to better my selfe, and so I am fayne to take it. 
 
 ACT. 5. SCEN. 4. 
 
 Phil. Stud. Furor, Phant. 
 
 PAil. Who haue we there, Ingenioso, and Academico} 
 
 Stud. The verye same, who are those. Furor and 
 Phantasma"^ Furor takes a louse off his sleeue. 
 
 Furor. And art thou there six footed Mercury? 
 
 Phan. {with his hand in his bosomed) Are rymes become 
 such creepers now a dayes? 
 Presumptuous louse, that doth good manners lack. 
 Daring to creepe vpon Poet Furors back: 
 Multum^ refert quibuscum vixeris. 2120 
 
 Non videmus Manticce quod in tergo est. 
 
 ' ' hastely,' MS. ' Drawer,' edits. - ' Multi,' MS. 
 
150 1!ri)E IS^ztuvne [Act v. 
 
 ■ PM. What Furor and Phan. too, our old colledge 
 fellowes, let vs incounter them all. Ing: Acad. Furor. 
 Phantasma. God saue you all. 
 
 Stud. What Ingen. Acad. Furor. Phantasma : howe do 
 you braue lads. 2026 
 
 Ing. What our deere friends Phil, and Stud. ? 
 Acad. What our old friends Phil, and Stud. ? 
 Fur. What my supernaturall friends ? 
 \Phant. What my good phantasticall frends ?] 
 Ing. What newes with you in this quarter of the Citty ? 
 
 Phil. We haue run through many trades, yet thriue by 
 none 
 Poore in content, and onely rich in moane, 
 A shephards life thou knowst I wont to admire. 
 Turning a Cambridge apple by the fire. 2135 
 
 To Hue in humble dale we now are bent, 
 Spending our dayes in fearelesse merriment. 
 
 Stud. Weel teach each tree euen of the hardest ^ kind, 
 To keepe our woefuU name within their rinde: 
 Weel watch our flock, and yet weele sleepe withall. 
 Weele tune our sorrowes to the waters fall, 2 141 
 
 The woods and rockes with our shrill songs weele blesse, 
 Let them proue kind since men proue pittilesse. 
 But say whether are you and your company logging : it 
 seemes by your apparell you are about to wander. 2145 
 
 Ing. Faith we are fully bent to be Lords of misrule in 
 the worlds wide [halP] ; our voyage is to the He of Dogges, 
 there where the blattant^ beast doth rule and raigne Renting 
 the credit of whom it please*. 
 
 Where serpents tongs the pen men are to write, 2150 
 
 Where cats ^ do ivaule by day, dogges [barke] by night : 
 
 ' 'knottiest,' MS. '^ 'heath,' edits. ^ ' barcking,' MS. ''whom 
 
 ere he please,' MS. ^ 'goates,' MS. 
 
sc. 4-J from ?9£rtia00u0* 151 
 
 There shall engoared venom be my inke, 
 
 My pen a sharper quill of porcupine, 
 
 My stayned paper, this sin loaden earth: 
 
 There will I write in lines shall neuer die, 2155 
 
 Our feared Lordings crying villany. 
 
 Phil. A gentle wit thou hadst, nor is it blame, 
 To tume so tart for time hath wronged the same, 
 
 Stu. And well thou dost from this fond earth to flit, 
 Where most mens pens are hired parasites. 2160 
 
 Aca. Go happily, I wish thee store of gal, 
 Sharpely to wound the guilty world withall : 
 
 Phil. But say, what shall become of Furor and Phan- 
 tasma ? 
 
 Ing. These my companions still with mee must wend, 
 
 Aca. Fury and Fansie on good wits attend. 2165 
 
 Ftir. When I arriue within the ile of Doggs, 
 Don Phcebus I will make thee kisse the pumpe. 
 Thy one eye pries in euery Drapers stall. 
 Yet neuer thinkes on poet Furors neede: 
 Furor is lowsie, great Furor Ibwsie is, 2170 
 
 Ile make thee run this lowsie case I wis. 
 And thou my [sluttish'] landresse Cinthia, 
 Nere thinkes on Furors linnen, Furors shirt: 
 Thou and thy squirting boy Endimion, 
 Lies slauering still vpon a lawlesse couch. 2175 
 
 Furor will haue thee carted through the dirt. 
 That makest great poet Furor want his shirt. 
 
 Inge. Is not here a [true^] dogge that dare barke so 
 boldly at the Mooone^. 
 
 Phil. Exclayming want and needy care and carke. 
 Would make the mildest spright to bite and barke. 
 
 ■' cluttish,' edits. ^ 'trus,' edits. ^Sic. 
 
i5a %lt ISleturne [Act v. 
 
 Phan. Canes timidi vehementius latrant. There are 
 certaine burrs in the He of doggs called in our English 
 tongue, men of worship, certaine briars as the Indians call 
 them, as we say certayne lawyers, certayne great lumps of 
 earth, as the Ar\a\bians call them, certayne grosers as wee 
 tearme them, quos ego sed motos prcestat componere Jluctus. 
 
 Inge. We three vnto the^ snarling Hand hast, 
 And there our vexed breath in snarling wast. 2189 
 
 Phil. We will be gone vnto the downes of Kent, 
 Sure footing we shall find in humble dale: 
 Our fleecy flocke weel learne to watch and warde, 
 In lulyes heate and cold of January: 
 Weel chant our woes vpon an oaten reede. 
 Whiles bleating flock vpon their supper feede : 2195 
 
 Stud. So shall we shun the company of men, 
 That growes more hatefull as the world growes old, 
 Weel teach the murmering brookes in tears to flow : 
 And steepy rocke to wayle our passed wo. 
 
 Acad. Adew you gentle spirits, long adew : 2200 
 
 Your witts I loue and your ill fortunes rue: 
 He hast me to my Cambridge cell againe, 
 My fortunes cannot wax but they may waine. 
 
 Inge. Adew good sheppards, happy may you Hue, 
 And if heereafter in some secret shade, 2205 
 
 You shall recount poore schollers miseries, 
 Vouchsafe to mention with [teare^] swelling eyes, 
 Ingeniosoes thwarting destinyes, 
 And, thou still happy Academico, 
 
 That still maist rest vpon the muses bed, 2210 
 
 Inioying there a quiet slumbering. 
 When thou repay[r]est vnto thy Grantaes streame, 
 Wonder at thine owne blisse, pitty our case, 
 
 ' ' We thereunto that,' MS. = ' teares,' edits. 
 
sc. 4] from perna00usf* 153 
 
 That still [doe^] tread ill fortunes endless maze. 
 
 Wish them that are preferments Almoners, 2215 
 
 To cherish gentle wits in their greene bud: 
 
 For had not Cambridge bin to me vnkinde, 
 
 I had not turn'd to gall a milkye minde. 
 
 Phil. I wish thee of good hap a plentious store, 
 Thy wit deserues no lesse, my loue can wish no more. • 
 Farewell, farewell good Academico. 3221 
 
 Neuer maist thou tast of our forepassed woe. 
 Wee wish thy fortunes may attaine their due: 
 Furor and you Phantasma both adue. 
 
 Acad. Farewell, farewell, farewell, o long farewell, 
 The rest my tongue conceales, let sorrow tell, 2226 
 
 JPhan. Et longum vale, inquit Tola. 
 
 Furor. Farewell my masters. Furor's a masty dogge. 
 Nor can with a smooth glozing farewell cog. 
 Nought can great Furor do, but barke and howle. 
 And snarle and grin, and [lowre, and lugge^] the world, 
 Like a great swine by his long leane eard^ lugges. 
 Farewell musty, dusty, rusty, fusty London, 
 Thou art not worthy of great Furors wit. 
 That cheatest vertue of her due desert, 2335 
 
 And sufferest great Apolloes sonne to want. 
 
 Inge. Nay stay a while and helpe me to content: 
 So many gentle witts attention, 
 Who [kenne*] the lawes of euery comick stage. 
 And [wonder^] that our scene ends discontent. 2240 
 
 Ye ayrie witts subtill, 
 
 Since that few schoUers fortunes are content. 
 Wonder not if our scene ends^ discontent. 
 When that our'^ fortunes reach their due* content. 
 Then shall our scene end in her" merriment. 2245 
 
 ^ ' doth,' edits. ,' 'carle, and towze,' edits. = ' leverd,' MS. * 'kennes,' 
 edits. » ' wonders,' edits. ^ ' end,' B. ' B. ' your,' A. and MS. 
 
 « 'owne,'MS. ' ' here in,' B. 
 
154 %lit JSittavnc from pzvm^m^. 
 
 Phil. Perhaps some happy wit with feeling hand, 
 Hereafter may recorde the pastorall 
 Of the two schollers of^ Pemassus hill, 
 And then our scene may end and haue content. 
 
 Inge. Meane time if there be any spightfuU Ghost, 
 That smiles to see poore schollers misery^ 2251 
 
 Cold is his charity, his wit too dull. 
 We scorne his censure, he is a leering gull. 
 But whatsoere refined sprights there be, 
 That deepely grone at our Calamity: 2255 
 
 Whose breath is turned to sighes, whose eyes are wet. 
 To see bright arts bent to their latest set : 
 Whence^ neuer they againe their heads shall reere. 
 To blesse our art disgracing hemispheere. 
 
 Ing. Let them. / 
 
 Fur. Let them. { ,7. 
 
 i plaudtte. 
 Phan. Let them, v 
 
 Acad. And none but them. 
 
 Phil. And none but them. 
 
 Stud. And none but them. 
 
 »'to,'MS. '' 'miseries,' Band MS. ''where,' MS. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 Page 5. 1. 131. Jack Seton. JqhnSeton, a Fellow of St. John's College, Chap- 
 lain to Bishop Gardiner, and Canon of Winchester, but one who was deprived 
 of his 'preferments as a recusant on the accession of Queen Elizabeth, wrote a 
 treatise on Logic, on Aristotelian lines, which was for some years the recog- 
 nised text-book at Cambridge. While the treatise of Ramus, the anti-Aristo- 
 telian (whose system was eagerly adopted by Calvinistic Protestants, partly 
 because its author was a Calvinist), was the favourite book with the New 
 School, the men of the Old School adhered to Seton. 
 
 ' Thomas Dranta,' in prefixing encomiastic verses to an edition of Seton by 
 P. Carter in 1577, is careful at the same time to give special praise to Ramus 
 as the popular teacher at that time. 
 
 5. 137. Pacius. Julius Pacins (bom at Vicenza in 1550, died in 1635) 
 wrote a treatise on Logic ' in usum Scholae Sedanensis.' 
 
 5. 138. Carterus. Peter Carter, Fellow of St. John's College (living in 
 1577); wrote annotations on the DiaUctica of his brother collegian Seton, 
 which were often printed with it ; but to understand the allusion in the text to 
 his vindication of Pacius would probably require such an acquaintance iffitlf'^ 
 their respective treatises as ne vaut fas la chandelle, at least to the present 
 Editor. 
 
 8. 212-3. Jol"! Marston published one of his volumes of Satyres in 1598 
 under the name of W. Kinsayder. Thomas Lodge's Fig for Motnus was 
 published in 1595; Thomas Bastard's Chresioleros : seven bookes of Epigrams 
 in 1598 ; and Richard Lichfield's Trimming of Thomas Nashe in 1597. 
 
 8. 223; 30. 141. Posts were used as hoardings for the exhibition of placards 
 of all kinds, play- bills, &c., in the Elizabethan time as in the nineteenth century. 
 
 9. 244 ; 11. 325. Ramus. Peter Ramus first published his system of logic 
 in 1543. See the note to Seton, supra. Ramus was murdered in the massacre 
 on St. Bartholomew's day, 1572. 
 
 10. 299. Muretus. The reference is to the well-known commentaries of 
 Marc. Ant. Fr. Muretus on the Rhetoric of Aristotle. Muretus died in 1585. 
 
 10. 299, 300. Bembus, Ascham. The Efistolae of Peter Bembus, a car- 
 dinal, and secretary (with Sadoletus) to Pope Leo X, who died in 1547, are 
 the ' prettie notes ' which he is said to chirp, together with the like ' notes ' of 
 Roger Ascham, the Latin secretary to three sovereigns, Edward VI, Mary, and 
 Elizabeth, and Greek tutor to the last. 
 
 Sadolet. Jac. Sadoletus, a cardinal, who died in 1547, wrote a treatise 
 De laudibus fkilosophiae, which was highly praised by Bembus. 
 
 Haddon. Walter Haddon, Professor of Law at Cambridge, who died in 
 1572, wrote Oraiiones which were greatly esteemed for their style. 
 
156 iRot£0» 
 
 12. 366. Giles Wiggington, of Trinity College, was several times prose- 
 cuted and imprisoned for non-conformity, and was accused of being engaged 
 with John Penry (the ' Mr. Martin ' of 1. 365) i" writing the MaHin Mar- 
 prelate tracts. 
 
 18. 549. Potato rootes. See Merry Wives of Windsor, v. 5.- 
 18. 562; 19. ii'ji. Javel. Chrysost. Javel, a Dominican, who died about 
 or after 1540, wrote a Cotnpendium Logicae and several commentaries on 
 Aristotle. 
 
 Peter Tartoret, or Tataret, was a lecturer at Paris on Aristotle at 
 the end of the fifteenth century, and his commentaries were several times 
 printed. 
 
 Toilet. Francis Tolet, a cardinal, bom at Cordova in 1532, died in 
 1596. He wrote Introductio ad Logicam. 
 
 21. As the reference to 'Hobson' in 1. 638 is to a real person, the well- 
 Icndwn Cambridge carrier, so no doubt 'hoste Johns of the Crowne' and 
 ' Newman the cobler ' were real Cambridge characters equally well known in 
 their time. The carrier 'Leonarde' of p. 26 and ' Simson the Tapster' of p. 42 
 could also, we may believe, have answered to their names. 
 
 22. 691. Put on the smock on Mundaye. A country dance tune. It is 
 printed in Chappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time, i. 193. It appears from 
 that valuable and interesting work that it was a tune of great popularity, and 
 that for upwards of two hundred years it was the tune to which dying 
 lamentations of criminals were usually chanted. 
 
 26. 6. lambskins weare ; the lambskin hood of the Bachelor of Arts. 
 
 25. 8, 9. Plucked at Cambridge, the poor poet had to betake himself to 
 Germany. Were some German degrees supposed then to be as easily attain- 
 able as sometimes and in some places in more recent years, only not ' in ab- 
 sentia ' ? 
 
 29. 113. Fortune my foe'. This ballad is alluded to by Shakespeare, Merry 
 Wives of Windsor, ii. 3. The air is printed in Chappell's Popular Music of 
 the Olden Time, i. 162. 
 
 30. 142. Dick Pinner. No such name of a publisher occurs in the 
 Stationers' Hall Registers in the time of Queen Elizabeth or James I, as I am 
 informed by the Editor of the Registers, Professor Arber. May Pinner have 
 been only some well-known vendor at Cambridge of popular ballads and 
 booklets? 
 
 31. 188. Three blinde beggars. This ballad is not mentioned in Chappell's 
 Popular Music. There is one called The Blind Beggar's Daughter, otherwise 
 The Cripple, of which Mr. Chappell gives the history and the music at 
 
 pp. 158-9 of his first volume. 
 
 38.425. Balletmaker deceaste. Probably William Elderton, the 'drunken 
 rhymer ' satirized by Bishop Hall, the date of whose death, however, is not 
 known. 
 
 42. 543. lia est. The words used sometimes as the commencing words of 
 the condition of a bond ; hence used in the text for the bond itself. 
 
ipotesf, 157 
 
 49- 757- Pedantius, one of the principal characters in the Latin comedy so 
 entitled, which was acted at Trinity College before 1591, but was not printed 
 untU 1631, and of which the authorship is assigned to iVIatth. or Anth. 
 Wingfield. 
 
 51. 825. Caftaine couragious, &c. This is the first line in the earliest 
 version of the famous ballad of Mary Ambree, as given in Bp. Percy's Folio 
 MS. The common version begins — ' When capteins courageous whom death 
 could not daunt.' 
 
 Elderton, who is mentioned in the next line in the text, was certainly dead 
 before this ballad was written. 
 
 56. g8i. Epigram made by a Cambridge man, one weaver fellow. This is 
 no doubt an allusion to an epigram ' in obitum sepulcrum {sic) GuUionis ' in 
 John Weaver's Epigrammes (ii. 21) 12°. Lond. 1599. It begins 'Here lies 
 fat G'ullio,' and describes him as one who had been hanged at Tyburn in 1598. 
 That Weaver was a Cambridge man appears from references to ' Granta ' in 
 commendatory verses prefixed to his Epigrams. In Hall's Satires also there are 
 lines (iii. 6) in ridicule of a 'thirstie Gullion' beginning 'When Gulliou dy'd 
 (who knowes not Gullion ?) ' 
 
 61. 1132. lorde Coulton. I caimot explain this allusion. May Coulton 
 have been some keeper of a debtors' prison, who was jocularly styled ' lord ' ? 
 
 61. 1 144. The gibberish put as a pretended quotation from Ronsard in the 
 mouth of the pretentious braggart appears to represent a proverbial saying — > 
 Qui picore se fa 
 II loup la mangera. 
 A prose version of the proverb is Qui sefait brebis le loup le mange. 
 
 73. 1534. sonnets at there pales, scil., at their milking-pails. 'Sung to the 
 wheele and sung unto the payle,' says Bp. Hall of Elderton's ballads, Sat. iv. 6. 
 83. 188-9. These lines (from TibuUus, i. 4) are the motto on the title-page 
 of both editions (1600 and 1610) of Bodenham's Bel-vedere ; and on that of the 
 first edition there was the engraved device of the sun shining on a laurel, which 
 is unfairly ridiculed in lines 195-7. 
 
 98. The idea of this dialogue in question and answer with Echo is probably 
 taken from a like dialogue in Book II of Sir P. Sidney's Arcadia. The quota- 
 tion of ' Jove's breakfast ' at p. 100, 1. 653 is probably from the same work. 
 
 119. 1256. Probably the reference to a 'theme against common lawyers ' is 
 to some then well-known academical exercise at Cambridge, in which the form 
 of learned disputation had been used as a vehicle for disguised satire. 
 
GLOSSARIAL INDEX OF WORDS. 
 
 Alate, lately, 67. 1347. 
 
 All-to-be =all-to ; altogether, very 
 
 much, 37. 371. 
 Anchors, anchorites, 74. 1563. 'An 
 
 anchor's cheer in prison,' Hamlet, 
 
 iii. 2. 
 Ayning-time, yeaning-tlme, 48. 738. 
 
 Bastard, brown, a thick Spanish 
 wine, 7. 203. 'Score a pint of bastard 
 in the Half Moon,' i Hen. IV, iv. 2. 
 
 Bear coals, to, to submit to mean 
 offices, to do dirty work, 73. 1553. 
 'We'll not carry coals,' Romeo and 
 Juliet. I. i. 'The men would carry 
 coals,' Henry V, iii. 2. 
 
 Bearwood, a bearward? or a wood- 
 carrier? 70. 1445. 
 
 Beray or bewray, to, to soil, defile, 
 64. 1261; 66. 1320; 70. 1435; 
 107. 876; 109. 946; 119. 1335; 129. 
 1530; 138. 1812. 
 
 Bezoling ; drinking to excess, guz- 
 zling, 10. 203. 
 
 Blow-point, 'a childish game' [Nares' 
 Gloss, q. v.], 113. 1060. 
 
 Boss, a hassock or foot-stool, 49. 
 
 765- . "7 
 
 Brewis, bread soaked in pot-liqnor, 
 
 and made savoury, 33. 254. 
 Burr, one who sticks fa,st to you, of 
 
 whom you cannot get rid. 111. 988 ; 
 
 152. 2183. 
 
 Cast-boy, cast-off, dismissed, boy ; 
 one without employment, 32. 204. 
 
 Chuffs, miserly churls, 84. 232. 
 
 Clarigols, constables. Apparently a 
 humorous application of^fhe word 
 used for an 'instrument of one 
 string,' their instrument of one string 
 
 being a whip, 65. 1269; 73. 1544. 
 
 ' Clari-cords ' in John Weever's Efi- 
 grammes, Epig. i. 16. 
 ClothvPTltt, a clothwright, applied 
 
 in contempt to a draper, 42. 536. 
 Cookpeuoe, holy pence (q. d. '.God's 
 
 pence'), ecclesiastical dues and 
 
 offerings, 19. 594. 
 Cog, to, to cheat, 153. 2229. 
 Counter, prisons in London so called, 
 
 49. 776. 
 Coursie, a race, 36. 353. 
 Craboun, a carbine, 137. 1765. 
 Cross and pile. The same as the 
 
 modem game of Heads and tails, 
 
 the coinage having then a cross on 
 
 one side, 49. 766. 
 Cut and long-tail, a term used for 
 
 all kinds of dogs ; ' come cut and 
 
 long-tail,' come who will, 129. 1509. 
 Cutohy, qu. coachee, a mean coach- 
 
 drivej;? 123. 1357. 
 Cypress, crape, 41. 512. 
 
 Dandiprat, used in contempt as equi- 
 valent to little brat or little con- 
 ceited fool, 49. 767. 
 
 Dopping, dipping, 25. 2. 
 
 Dottrell, dotterel, a species of plover, 
 said to be easily caught; hence, a 
 silly fellow, easily deceived, 32. 
 226. 
 
 Drafty, worthless; 'drafty ballatts,' 
 83. 195. 
 
 Dromeder: 'an ould sober Drome- 
 der.' Can this be put for dromedary, 
 a patient, toiling beast of burden ? 
 If not, I am at a loss for explanation. 
 8. 217. 
 
 Eld, old age, 2. 22. 
 
(0lD0!Sarial 'Sititzx* 
 
 159 
 
 Faulkner, falconer, 20. 623. 
 Fiddler's wages, the smallest silver 
 
 coins, 37. 380. 
 File, to, to defile, 70. 1451. 
 Foin, to, to push in fencing, 86. 277. 
 Foretop, the top of the periwig ; used 
 
 in contempt of a fool as having no 
 
 head of his own, 64. 1237 ; 70. 1436. 
 Forspeak, to, to forbid, 90. 391. 
 Fozfurred, wrapped in a fox-sWn, 
 
 = crafty, 21. 654. 
 
 G-aberdine, a coarse common cloak, 
 6. 175. 
 
 Gird, to, to strike at, or wound, 
 with jeers and sarcasms, 86. 280. 
 
 Griggy, heathery, wild and unculti- 
 vated, 19. 577. 
 
 Grill. A word omitted in glossaries, 
 although used by Bishop Hall ; 
 apparently- meaning a dull senseless 
 clown or sot, 4. 83. ' Let swinish 
 grilldelightin dunghill clay,' Hall's 
 Satires, ii. 2, /as^ line. 
 
 Grosers. Possibly used for ' engross- 
 ers ' ; in double allusion to the 
 engrossing of legal documents and 
 the engrossing of gain, 162. 2186. 
 
 Hippooras, ' hypocrise,' wine mixed 
 with spices ; a cordial, 7. 208. 
 
 Hoydon, a rude, rough man, a clown, 
 46; 678 ; 51. 833. 
 
 Jag, a load or bundle, 48. 747. 
 Jerk, to, to scourge or lash 80. 93 ; 
 85. 260; 138.1791. 
 
 Lave-eared, lap-eared, long-eared, 
 36. 345. 
 
 Iievaltoes, light dances, 13. 397. 
 
 Lin, to; to cease, 142. 1909. 
 
 Liteltomans, probably a mistake for 
 Liteltonians, law-students, 52. 868. 
 
 Xioadam, a game with cards, 77. 14. 
 
 Iiozel, an idle abandoned fellow; 
 usually employed thus as a substan- 
 tive, but at 3. 79 used as an adjec- 
 tive, ' lozel grooms.' 
 
 Make, mate, 13. 393. 
 Marmelett, marmalade, 38. 420. 
 Masty, a mastiff, 153. 2228. 
 Meaze, a hare's form, 104. 791. 
 Mips, nymphs, 125. 1418. 
 Mossy. Apparently used in the 
 
 sense of rude, uncultivated : 'mossy 
 
 patron' 6. 168 ; 'mossy idiots,' 29. 
 
 no; ' mossy posterifie,' 52. 873. 
 
 'mossy barbarians ' 97. 674- 
 Mue, Mew, a retired, enclosed place : 
 
 'mue,' 74. 1563; 'mewes,' 97. 58a 
 
 ITall, 'a nail,' a colloquial mispro- 
 nunciation of ' an awl,' 27. 46. 
 
 Kapping, unawares, 26. 38; 38. 402 
 (with a double play on the word). 
 
 ITimbrocado, = embrocado, a pass in 
 fencing, 53. 887. 
 
 Pantofle, a slipper, 129. 1515. 
 
 Passage, a game with dice, 77. iz. 
 
 Passport, a licence to travel given to 
 beggars, 49. J83 ; 65. 1268 ; 66. 
 1322. ' A box and a passport,' the 
 licence, and the box for alms, 31. 
 183. 
 
 Petternels, (petronels) small car- 
 bines, or large horse-pistols, 82. 
 160. 
 
 Phlapmoutlied= flap-mouthed; hav- 
 ing loose, hanging lips, 130. 1557. 
 
 Pight, pitched, 127. 1461. 
 
 Pilled, plundered, peeled, 49. 772. 
 
 Points, the laces for fastening breeches, 
 =braces, 26. 39, 40 ; 113. 1056, &c. 
 
 Post and pair, a game with cards, 
 77. 13. 
 
 Ploydenist, a lawyer, a student of 
 Edm. Plowden's text-book of Com- 
 mentaires ou Reports, 135. 1715. 
 
 Precious coals ! a silly ejaculation, 
 put here in the mouth of Sir Rader- 
 ick as being, probably, a well- 
 known expression of a well-known 
 individual, 129. 1532 ; 134. 1561. 
 
 Primero, a game with cards, 77. 12. 
 
 Prinoox, a coxcomb, 118. 1197- 
 Romeo and Juliet, i. 5. 
 
i6o 
 
 (Klosfsfarial '^ntitx* 
 
 Q,u or que, a farthing ; a farthing's- 
 worth, 39.434; 139. 1838. 
 
 Que, cue, the prompter's catch-word, 
 139. 1837. 
 
 Earn Alley. A notorious passage 
 
 leading from Fleet Street to the 
 
 Temple, 86. 278. 
 Bood Day, Holy Rood Day, 14 Sept. 
 
 48. 739. 
 Bound, to, to whisper, 27. 45. 
 Eoyster doyster, in a, ruffianly 
 
 turbulent manner, 86. 276. 
 Eubbers, contested decisive games ; 
 
 trials of skill, 37. 396 ; 38. 402. 
 
 Probably in this second line 'ruled' 
 
 is a mistake in the MS. for ' rubbed.' 
 
 Saoket, qu. a contracted form of sack- 
 posset ? 38. 419. 
 
 Saint— cent, a game with cards, in 
 which 100 was the winning number, 
 77. 13. 
 
 Seely, simple, 69. 1420. 
 
 Sen, say, 48. 730. 
 
 Size, to, to take college commons, to 
 battell, 135. 1691 ; 'tosizemy mu- 
 sick,' to take it like college commons 
 on credit for the term,'147. 2048. 
 
 Size que, farthing allowances of food 
 and drink; used at p. 139, 1838, 
 for the commons of poor scholars, 
 called sizers at Cambridge. Used as 
 late as 1670 in Eachard's Contempt 
 of the Clergy, p. 31. 
 
 Skinkers, tapsters, 6. 157, 
 
 Skipjack, an upstart, a conceited 
 puppy, 39. 464 ; 42. 535. 
 
 Snuff, in, in anger or contempt, 6. 
 174. [To snuff at = to make a con- 
 temptuous snuffing sound.] 
 
 Scoping, sweeping, 85. 262 ; 144. 
 
 1965. 
 Stale, a trick, decoy, 67. 1347. 
 Standish., an inkstand, 19. 593. 
 Stanging, stinging, 78. 33. 
 
 Stigmatic, a ; one who is branded 
 and marked as a criminal ; used in 
 the text apparently with reference 
 to one marked with a University 
 degree or distinction, 8. 217; 92. 
 
 437- 
 Stooado, stoekado, a rapier-thrust, 
 
 53. 88.7 ; 87. 315. 
 
 Subcioer, a sub-sizar (used as of a 
 very poor scholar, who performed 
 all menial offices), 130. 1565. 
 
 Subljgation, used as a mispronuncia- 
 tion of ' supplication,' 64. 1 249. 
 
 Sumner, a summoner or apparitor, 
 135. 1694. 
 
 Surquerie, apparently intended for 
 suquerie, sugariness, 16. 486. 
 
 Swadds, coarse rough bumpkins, 81. 
 138. 
 
 Tallents^?- talons, 137. 1774. 
 
 Teen, grief, 91. 407 ; 96 note. 
 
 Thaoked, thatched, 29. 134; 118. 
 1221 ; 148. 2091. 
 
 Thick thwack, fast and furious, 124. 
 1376. ' If Jove speak English in a 
 thund'ring cloud, Thwick thwack 
 and riff raff, roars he out aloud,' 
 Hall's Satires, i. 6. 
 
 Treuan, truant, 74. 1572. 
 
 XTntapezing, uncovering, coming out 
 of concealment, 106. 830. 
 
 Voider, a tray or basket for removing 
 dishes, &c., 23. 705 ; 132. i65i. 
 
 ■Vouchsake= vouchsafe, 36. 339; 54. 
 945- 
 
 ■Whott, hot, 73. 1239. 
 
 ■Wilningly, whether we will or no, of 
 
 necessity, 44. 618. 
 ■Wonn, will ; ' when you woim,' when 
 
 you will, 48. 747. 
 
 Tonts, joints, 3. 62. 
 
 THE END.