Read Ebook: A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume 01 by Dodsley Robert Compiler Hazlitt William Carew Editor

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Those things to know for me be full expedient, But yet in those points which Nature late showed me, My mind in them as yet is not content, For I can no manner wise perceive nor see, Nor prove by reason why the earth should be In the middes of the firmament hanging so small, And the earth with the water to be round withal.

STUDIOUS DESIRE.

Me thinketh myself, as to some of those points I could give a sufficient solution; For, first of all, thou must needs grant this, That the earth is so deep, and bottom hath none, Or else there is some gross thing it standeth upon, Or else that it hangeth, thou must needs consent, Even in the middes of the firmament.

HUMANITY.

What then? go forth with thine argument.

STUDIOUS DESIRE.

Then mark well, in the day or in a winter's night, The sun and moon, and stars celestial, In the east first they do appear to thy sight, And after in the west they do down fall, And again in the morrow next of all, Within twenty-four hours they be come just To the east point again, where thou sawest them first. Then if the earth should be of endless deepness, Or should stand upon any other gross thing, It should be an impediment, doubtless, To the sun, moon, and stars in their moving; Therefore, in reason, it seemeth most convenient The earth to hang in the middes of the firmament.

HUMANITY.

Thine argument in that point doth me confound, That thou hast made, but yet it proveth not right That the earth by reason should be round; For though the firmament, with his stars bright, Compass about the earth each day and night, Yet the earth may be plane, peradventure, Quadrant, triangle, or some other figure.

STUDIOUS DESIRE.

That it cannot be plane I shall well prove thee: Because the stars, that arise in the orient, Appear more sooner to them that there be, Than to the other dwelling in the Occident. The eclipse is thereof a plain experiment Of the sun or moon which, when it doth fall, Is never one time of the day in places all; Yet the eclipse generally is alway In the whole world as one time being; But when we, that dwell here, see it in the midday, They in the west parts see it in the morning, And they in the east behold it in the evening; And why that should so be, no cause can be found, But only by reason that the earth is round.

HUMANITY.

That reason proveth the earth at the least, One ways to be round, I cannot gainsay, As for to account from the east to the west; But yet, notwithstanding all that, it may Lese his roundness by some other way.

STUDIOUS DESIRE.

Nay, no doubt it is round everywhere, Which I could prove, thou shouldst not say nay, If I had thereto any time and leisure; But I know a man called Experience, Of divers instruments is never without, Could prove all these points, and yet by his science Can tell how many mile the earth is about, And many other strange conclusions, no doubt. His instruments could show thee so certain, That every rude carter should them perceive plain.

TAVERNER.

Who is that calleth so hastily? I shrew thine heart, speak softly; I tell thee I am not here.

THE DANCERS AND SENSUAL.

Peace, sirs, peace now! peace, sirs, all!

HUMANITY AND IGNORANCE.

Why, who is that so high doth call?

THE DANCERS.

Silence, I say, be you among, For we be disposed to sing a song.

HUMANITY AND IGNORANCE.

Come in, then, boldly among this presence, For here ye shall have good audience. Time to pass with goodly sport, Our sprites to revive and comfort, To pipe, to sing, To dance, to spring, With pleasure and delight, Following Sensual Appetite, To pipe, &c.

IGN. I can you thank; that is done well; It is pity ye had not a minstrel For to augment your solace. SEN. As for minstrel, it maketh no force, Ye shall see me dance a course Without a minstrel, be it better or worse; Follow all: I will lead a trace. HU. Now have among you, by this light! IGN. That is well said, by God Almight! Make room, sirs, and give them place.

Dance we, dance we, prance we, prance we, So merrily let us dance ey, so merrily, &c. And I can dance it gingerly, and I, &c. And I can foot it by and by, and I, &c. And I can prank it properly, And I can countenance comely, And I can croak it courtesly, And I can leap it lustily, And I can turn it trimly, And I can frisk it freshly, And I can look it lordly. IGN. I can thee thank, Sensual Appetite! That is the best dance without a pipe, That I saw this seven year. HU. This dance would do mich better yet, If we had a kit or taberet, But alas! there is none here. SEN. Then let us go to the tavern again, There shall we be sure of one or twain Of minstrels, that can well play. IGN. Then go, I pray ye, by and by, And purvey some minstrel ready, And he and I will follow shortly, As fast as ever we may. HU. Therewith I am right well content. SEN. Then will I go incontinent, And prepare every thing That is metely to be done; And for lack of minstrels, the mean season, Now will we begin to sing. Now we will here begin to sing, For dance can we no more, For minstrels here be all lacking; To the tavern we will therefore.

And leant him till a maple thistle; Then came our lady and sweet Saint Andrew. Sleepest thou, wakest thou, Geffrey Coke? A hundred winter the water was deep, I can not tell you how broad. He took a goose neck in his hand, And over the water he went. He start up to a thistle top, And cut him down a hollen club. He stroke the wren between the horns, That fire sprang out of the pig's tail. Jack boy, is thy bow i-broke? Or hath any man done the wriguldy wrag? He plucked muscles out of a willow, And put them into his satchel! Wilkin was an archer good, And well could handle a spade; He took his bent bow in his hand, And set him down by the fire. He took with him sixty bows and ten, A piece of beef, another of bacon. Of all the birds in merry England So merrily pipes the merry bottle!

NATURE.

Well, Humanity, now I see plainly That thou hast used much folly, The while I have been absent.

HU. Sir, I trust I have done nothing That should be contrary to your pleasing, Nor never was mine intent; For I have followed the counsel clear, As ye me bade, of Studious Desire, And for necessity among Sometime Sensual Appetite's counsel, For without him, ye know right well, My life cannot endure long.

NATURE.

Though it be for thee full necessary For thy comfort sometime to satisfy Thy sensual appetite, Yet it is not convenient for thee To put therein thy felicity And all thy whole delight; For if thou wilt learn no science, Nother by study nor experience, I shall thee never advance; But in the world thou shalt dure then, Despised of every wise man, Like this-rude beast Ignorance.

THE TRAGI-COMEDY OF CALISTO AND MELIBAEA.

The only copy known of this piece is among the books of Malone in the Bodleian Library, and it has never hitherto been reprinted. An account of it is given, however, by Collier .

AN INTERLUDE, SHOWING THE BEAUTY AND GOOD PROPERTIES OF WOMEN.

MELIBAEA.

CEL. Now the blessing that our lady gave her son, That same blessing I give now to you all! That I come thus homely, I pray you of pardon; I am sought and send for as a woman universal. Celestina, of truth, my name is to call; Sempronio for me about doth inquire, And it was told me I should have found him here. I am sure he will come hither anon; But the whilst I shall tell you a pretty game: I have a wench of Sempronio's, a pretty one, That sojourneth with me: Elicaea is her name. But the last day we were both nigh a stark shame, For Sempronio would have her to himself several; And she loveth one Crito better or as well. This Crito and Elicaea sat drinking In my house, and I also making merry; And as the devil would, far from our thinking, Sempronio almost came on us suddenly. But then wrought I my craft of bawdry; I bade Crito go up, and make himself room To hide him in my chamber among the broom. Then made I Elicaea sit down a-sewing, And I with my rock began for to spin; As who saith of Sempronio we had no knowing. He knocked at the door, and I let him in; And for a countenance I did begin To catch him in mine arms, and said, see, see! Who kisseth me, Elicaea, and will not kiss thee? Elicaea for a countenance made her grieved, And would not speak, but still did sew. Why speak ye not? quoth Sempronio, be ye moved? Have I not a cause, quoth she? no, quoth he, I trow. Ah! traitor, quoth she, full well dost thou know! Where hast thou been these three days from me, That the imposthumes and evil death take thee! Peace, mine Elicaea, quoth he, why say ye thus? Alas! why put you yourself in this woe? The hot fire of love so brenneth between us, That my heart is with yours, wherever I go; And for three days' absence to say to me so, In faith, methinketh, ye be to blame. But now hark well, for here beginneth the game! Crito, in my chamber above that was hidden, I think lay not easily, and began to rumble; Sempronio heard that, and asked who was within, Above in the chamber that so did tumble. Who? quoth she; a lover of mine! may-hap, ye stumble, Quoth he, on the truth, as many one doth. So up, quoth she, and look, whether it be sooth. Well, quoth he, I go. Nay, thought I, not so, I said, come, Sempronio, let this fool alone; For of thy long absence she is in such woe, And half beside herself, and her wit nigh gone. Well, quoth he, above yet there is one. Wilt thou know, quoth I? yea, quoth he, I thee require; It is a wench, quoth I, sent me by a friar. What friar? quoth he. Wilt thou needs know? quoth I; then It is the friar ... Oh, quoth he, what a load hath that woman To bear him! Yea, quoth I; though women per case Bear heavy full oft, yet they gall in no place. Then he laughed; yea, quoth I, no more words of this For this time; too long we spend here amiss.

SEM. O mother Celestine, I pray God prosper thee. CEL. My son Sempronio, I am glad of our meeting. And, as I hear say, ye go about to seek me? SEM. Of truth, to seek you was mine hither coming. Mother, lay apart now all other thing, And alonely tend to me, and imagine In that that I purpose now to begin. Calisto in the love of fair Melibaea Burneth; wherefore of thee he hath great need. CEL. Thou say'st well, knowest not me Celestina? I have the end of the matter, and for more speed Thou shalt wade no farther; for of this deed I am as glad, as ever was the surgeon For salves for broke heads to make provision. And so intend I to do to Calisto: To give him hope and assure him remedy; For long hope to the heart much trouble will do. Wherefore to the effect thereof I will hie. SEM. Peace, for methinketh Calisto is nigh.

CAL. Mother, as I promised to assoil thy doubt, Here I give thee an hundred pieces of gold. CEL. Sir, I promise you I shall bring it about, All thing to purpose, even as ye would; For your reward I will do as I should. Be merry, fear nothing, content ye shall be. CAL. Then, mother, farewell; be diligent, I pray thee. of my life, My relief from death, the ambassadors of my wealth! My hope, my hap; my quietness, my strife; My joy, my sorrow; my sickness, my health. The hope of this old woman; my heart telleth That comfort shall come shortly, as I intend. Or else come, death, and make of me an end.

PAR. In faith, it maketh no force nor matter mich, CAL. What sayest, Parmeno, what sayest to me? PAR. Marry, I say plainly, that yonder old witch And Sempronio together will undo thee. CAL. Ah, ill-tongued wretch, will ye not see? Thinkest thou, lurden, thou handlest me fair? Why, knave, wouldest thou put me in despair? the same forward or backward. I will go straight to him, and follow him still: Say as he saith, be it good or ill; And sith these bawds get good provoking lechery, I trust flattery shall speed as well as bawdry.

MEL. I pray you, came this woman here never sin'? In faith, to enter here I am half adrad; And yet why so? I may boldly come in: I am sure from you all I shall not be had. But, Jesus, Jesus, be these men so mad On women, as they say? how should it be? It is but fables and lies, ye may trust me.

EVERYMAN: A MORAL PLAY.

HAWKINS'S PREFACE.

DOCTOR.

'This moral men may have in mind; Ye hearers, take it of worth old and young, And forsake pride, for he deceiveth you in the end, And remember Beauty, Five Wits, Strength, and Discretion. They all at the last do Everyman forsake; Save his Good Deeds there doth he take: But beware, and they be small, Before God he hath no help at all.'

"From this short analysis it may be observed that Everyman is a grave, solemn piece, not without some rude attempts to excite terror and pity, and therefore may not improperly be referred to the class of tragedy. It is remarkable that in this old simple drama the fable is conducted upon the strictest model of the Greek tragedy. The action is simply one, the time of action is that of the performance, the scene is never changed, nor the stage ever empty. Everyman, the hero of the piece, after his first appearance, never withdraws, except when he goes out to receive the sacrament, which could not well be exhibited in public; and during this, Knowledge descants on the excellence and power of the priesthood, somewhat after, the manner of the Greek chorus. And, indeed, except in the circumstance of Everyman's expiring on the stage, the 'Samson Agonistes' of Milton is hardly formed on a severer plan."

The woodcuts accompanying this and the succeeding piece , occur in the original editions by Skot, and presumably were also in those by Pynson.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

MESSENGER. KNOWLEDGE. GOD. CONFESSION. DEATH. BEAUTY. EVERYMAN. STRENGTH. FELLOWSHIP. DISCRETION. KINDRED. FIVE WITS. GOODS. ANGEL. GOOD DEEDS. DOCTOR.

HERE BEGINNETH A TREATISE HOW THE HIGH FATHER OF HEAVEN SENDETH DEATH TO SUMMON EVERY CREATURE TO COME AND GIVE ACCOUNT OF THEIR LIVES IN THIS WORLD, AND IS IN MANNER OF A MORAL PLAY.

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