Chapter I: Part 1

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A SELECT COLLECTION

OF

OLD ENGLISH PLAYS.

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY ROBERT DODSLEY
IN THE YEAR 1744.

_FOURTH EDITION_,

NOW FIRST CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED, REVISED AND ENLARGED,
WITH THE NOTES OF ALL THE COMMENTATORS
AND NEW NOTES

BY

W. CAREW HAZLITT.

BENJAMIN BLOM, INC.

New York

NOTICE.

Since the Preface to this Work appeared, a very important augmentation of the new matter has been decided on, and the following early Dramas, never hitherto reprinted, have already been transcribed for insertion in our series under their respective dates. All are of the greatest rarity; and each, in its own way, seemed to possess literary and illustrative value:--

Life and Death of Jack Straw, 1593.
⁂ _The first dramatisation of the story of Wat Tyler._
Mucedorus, 1598.
Look About You, 1600.
The Contention between Liberality and Prodigality, 1602.
The London Chanticleers, 1659.
Lady Alimony; or, The Alimony Lady, 1659.
⁂ _Both of the two last named are earlier than the period of
publication._

On the other hand, new collected editions of Randolph and Suckling have quite recently been announced; and, in consequence, the “Muses’ Looking-Glass,” by the former, and Suckling’s “Goblins,” will be excluded from the present Collection, agreeably to the principle explained in our Preface.

W. C. H.

KENSINGTON, _May 1, 1874_.

DAMON AND PITHIAS.

_EDITIONS._

_For the titles of the two old copies, see Hazlitt’s
“Handbook,” p. 177._

MR HAZLITT’S PREFACE.[1]

Richard Edwards (the elder), a Somersetshire man, was born about the year 1523, and is said to have received his education at Corpus Christi College, Oxford, whence “in youthful years,” as he himself narrates, in the “Paradise of Dainty Devices,” but not until after August 1544, “his young desires pricked him forth to serve in court, a slender, tall young man.” What his service at court may have been, does not appear, and he relinquished it for a time in 1547, when he was nominated a Senior Student of Christ Church, Oxford, then newly founded by Henry VIII., and created M.A. Here, among other studies, he applied himself to that of music, under George Etheridge, with a view, probably, to further service at court. On his return to London, he entered himself of Lincoln’s Inn, and ultimately was constituted by Queen Elizabeth a Gentleman of the Chapel Royal, and, in 1561, Master of the Children or singing boys of that establishment. Warton, after stating that Edwards “united all those arts and accomplishments which minister to popular pleasantry,” which may be very true, adds what (as Collier points out) is unquestionably a mistake, that the children of the chapel were first formed by him into a company of players; for they had regularly acted plays long before.

In 1566, Edwards attended the Queen in her visit to Oxford, where he composed a play called “Palamen and Arcite,” which was acted before Her Majesty in Christ Church Hall.

Stow, in his “Chronicle,” mentions the name of the play, and adds that “it had such tragical success as was very lamentable; for at that time, by the fall of a wall and a paire of staires & great prese (press) of the multitude, three men were slain.” “At night” (Sept. 2[2]), writes Anthony Wood, “the Queen heard the first part of an English play, named Palamon & Arcyte, made by M. Richard Edwards, a gentleman of her Chapel, acted with very great applause, in Christ Church Hall, at the beginning of which play, there was, by part of the stage which fell, three persons slain, besides five that were hurt. Afterwards the actors performed their parts so well, that the Queen laughed heartily thereat, and gave the author of the play great thanks for his pains” (quoted by Collier, “Annals of the Stage,” i., 191). “Her Majesty also presented eight guineas to one of the young performers who gave her peculiar satisfaction. It is fair to add, in behalf of good Queen Bess, that from Peshall’s ‘History of the University,’ it would seem that the Queen was not present on the occasion of the accident.” He died on the 31st October in the same year, according to Hawkins; and in Turbervile’s Poems, printed in 1567, are two elegiac compositions on his decease, one by Turbervile himself, the other by Thomas Twine, the translator of Virgil.[3]

“Edwards,” writes Collier,[4] “enjoyed a very high reputation as a dramatic poet, but he seems to have owed much of it to the then comparative novelty of his undertakings.” Thomas Twine, in an epitaph upon his death, calls him--

“The flower of our realm
And Phœnix of our age,”

and specifically mentions two of his plays, “Damon and Pythias” and “Palamon and Arcyte,” adding, however, that he had written more equally fit for the ears of princes--

“Thy tender Tunes and Rimes
Wherein thou woont’st to play,
Eche princely Dame of Court and Towne,
Shall beare in minde alway.
Thy Damon and his Friend,
Arcyte and Palemon,
With moe full fit for princes’ eares,
Though thou from earth art gone,
Shall still remain in fame,” &c.

He is mentioned in Webbe’s “Discourse of English Poetry,” 1586, and Puttenham, in his “Art of English Poesie,” 1589, tells us that the Earl of Oxford (of whose dramatic productions there is no other trace) and Edwards deserve the highest prize for “comedy and interlude; and Lord Buckhurst and Master Edward Ferrys [George Ferrers] for tragedy.” Meres, in his “Palladis Tamia,” 1598, repeats the applause given by Puttenham, with the omission of the word “interlude,” then out of fashion, terming Edwards “one of the best for comedy.”

“The earliest notice we have of Edwards as a dramatic poet,” continues Collier, “occurs in 1564-5, when a tragedy by him, the name of which is not given, was performed by the children of the chapel, under his direction, before the Queen at Richmond. This might possibly be his ‘Damon and Pythias,’ termed by Lord Burghley, in the uncertain phraseology of that time, ‘a tragedy,’ or it might be one of the other dramatic performances of which, according to Twine, Edwards was the author. ‘Damon and Pythias,’ however, is the only extant specimen of his talents in this department of Poetry.” Besides his dramatic productions, Edwards was the author of several poems in “The Paradyse of Daynty Devises” (1576), the _sundry pithie and learned inventions_ of which, indeed, are announced in the title to have been “devised and written for the most part by M. Edwards, sometime of her Majesties Chapel.” Two of these _learned inventions_ are given by Ellis, in his “Specimen of Early English Poets,” vol. ii., and one of them in especial has aroused the enthusiasm of Mr Haslewood by the happiness of the illustration, the facility, elegance, and tenderness of the language, and the exquisite turn of the whole.[5] “When he was in extremitie of his sickness,” writes Wood, narrating our author’s death, “he composed a noted poem, called ‘Edwards’ Soul Knil’ (knell), or the ‘Soul Knil of M. Edwards,’ which was commended for a good piece. In support of this tradition, Anthony quotes Gascoigne, whereas Gascoigne, on the contrary, only refers to the story for the purpose of ridiculing the idea that the ‘Knil’ was written under any such circumstances.”[6]

Among the Cotton MSS. in the British Museum are four poems by Edwards, one of which is addressed to some court beauties of his time;[7] one of these also is given by Mr Ellis in his “Specimens.” A part of his song “In Commendation of Musick,” in the “Paradise of Dainty Devices,” is given by Shakespeare, “Romeo and Juliet,” act iv., sc. 5: “Where gripyng grief the hart would wound,” &c. Ritson mentions “An Epytaphe of the lord of Pembroke” by Mr Edwards (1569-70); but this is merely said to be written by a _Mr Edwardes_, and was not, at any rate, from the pen of the author of “Damon and Pithias.”[8]

“Among the books of my friend, the late Mr William Collins, of Chichester, now dispersed,” writes Warton,[9] “was a collection of short comic stories in prose, printed in the black letter, and, in the year 1570, ‘Set forth by Maister Richard Edwardes, Mayster of Her Maiesties Revels.’ There is a mistake in assigning this office to Edwards, for Sir Thomas Cawarden and Sir Thomas Benger were successively Masters of the Revels in our author’s time. However, among these tales was that of the ‘Induction of the Tinker’ in Shakespeare’s ‘Taming of the Shrew;’ and perhaps,” writes Warton, “Edwards’ story book was the immediate source from which Shakespeare, or rather, the author of the old ‘Taming of the Shrew’ drew that diverting apologue.”

The drama here reprinted from the earliest known edition of 1571,[10] collated with that of 1582, may have been the same as the _tragedy_ performed before Queen Elizabeth by the children of the chapel at Christmas, 1564-5. “Although,” writes Collier, “Edwards continued in this play to employ rhymes, he endeavoured to get rid of some part of its monotony, by varying the length of his lines, and by not preserving the cæsura. It was nearly new, at the date when this piece was written, to bring stories from profane history upon the stage. ‘Damon and Phythias’ was one of the earliest attempts of the kind; and at any other period, and without the Queen’s extraordinary commendation, it may at least be doubted whether Edwards would have acquired an equal degree of notoriety.[11]

THE SPEAKERS’ NAMES.

ARISTIPPUS, _a Pleasant Gentleman_.
CARISOPHUS, _a Parasite_.
DAMON, } _Two Gentlemen of Greece_.
PITHIAS,}
STEPHANO, _Servant to Damon and Pithias_.
WILL, _Aristippus’ Lackey_.
JACK, _Carisophus’ Lackey_.
SNAP, _the Porter_.
DIONYSIUS, _the King_.
EUBULUS, _the King’s Councillor_.
GRONNO, _the Hangman_.
GRIM, _the Collier_.

THE PROLOGUE.

On every side, whereas I glance my roving eye,
Silence in all ears bent I plainly do espy:
But if your eager looks do long such toys to see,
As heretofore in comical wise were wont abroad to be,
Your lust is lost, and all the pleasures that you sought,
Is frustrate quite of toying plays. A sudden change is wrought:
For lo, our author’s muse, that masked in delight,
Hath forc’d his pen against his kind[12] no more such sports to
write.
Muse he that lust (right worshipful), for chance hath made this
change,
For that to some he seemed too much in young desires to range:
In which, right glad to please, seeing that he did offend,
Of all he humbly pardon craves: his pen that shall amend.
And yet (worshipful audience) thus much I dare avouch,
In comedies the greatest skill is this, rightly to touch
All things to the quick; and eke to frame each person so,
That by his common talk you may his nature rightly know:
A roister ought not preach, that were too strange to hear,
But as from virtue he doth swerve, so ought his words appear:
The old man is sober, the young man rash, the lover triumphing
in joys.
The matron grave, the harlot wild, and full of wanton toys.
Which all in one course they no wise do agree;
So correspondent to their kind their speeches ought to be.
Which speeches well-pronounc’d, with action lively framed,
If this offend the lookers on, let Horace then be blamed,
Which hath our author taught at school, from whom he doth not
swerve,
In all such kind of exercise decorum to observe.
Thus much for his defence (he saith), as poets earst have done,
Which heretofore in comedies the self-same race did run.
But now for to be brief, the matter to express,
Which here we shall present, is this: Damon and Pithias.
A rare ensample of friendship true, it is no legend-lie,
But a thing once done indeed, as histories do descry,
Which done of yore in long time past, yet present shall be here.
Even as it were in doing now, so lively it shall appear.
Lo, here in Syracuse th’ ancient town, which once the Romans won,
Here Dionysius palace, within whose court this thing most strange
was done.
Which matter mix’d with mirth and care, a just name to apply,
As seems most fit, we have it termed a tragical comedy.
Wherein talking of courtly toys, we do protest this flat,
We talk of Dionysius court, we mean no court but that:
And that we do so mean, who wisely calleth to mind
The time, the place, the author,[13] here most plainly shall it find.
Lo, this I speak[14] for our defence, lest of others we should be
shent:
But, worthy audience, we you pray, take things as they be meant;
Whose upright judgment we do crave with heedful ear and eye
To hear the cause and see th’ effect of this new tragical comedy.
[_Exit._

DAMON AND PITHIAS.[15]

_Here entereth_ ARISTIPPUS.

ARISTIPPUS. Tho’ strange (perhaps) it seems to some,
That I, Aristippus, a courtier am become:
A philosopher of late, not of the meanest name,
But now to the courtly behaviour my life I frame.
Muse he that list, to you of good skill,
I say that I am a philosopher still.
Loving of wisdom is termed philosophy,[16]
Then who is a philosopher so rightly as I?
For in loving of wisdom proof doth this try,
That _frustra sapit, qui non sapit sibi_.
I am wise for myself: then tell me of troth,
Is not that great wisdom, as the world go’th?
Some philosophers in the street go ragged and torn,
And feed on vile roots, whom boys laugh to scorn:
But I in fine silks haunt Dionysius’ palace,
Wherein with dainty fare myself I do solace.
I can talk of philosophy as well as the best,
But the strait kind of life I leave to the rest.
And I profess now the courtly philosophy,
To crouch, to speak fair, myself I apply,
To feed the king’s humour with pleasant devices,
For which I am called _Regius canis_.
But wot ye who named me first the king’s dog?
It was the rogue Diogenes, that vile grunting hog.
Let him roll in his tub, to win a vain praise:
In the court pleasantly I will spend all my days;
Wherein what to do I am not to learn,
What will serve mine own turn, I can quickly discern.
All my time at school I have not spent vainly,
I can help one: is not that a good point of philosophy?

_Here entereth_ CARISOPHUS.

CARISOPHUS. I beshrew your fine ears, since you came from school,
In the court you have made many a wise man a fool:
And though you paint out your feigned philosophy,
So God help me, it is but a plain kind of flattery,
Which you use so finely in so pleasant a sort,
That none but Aristippus now makes the king sport.
Ere you came hither, poor I was somebody;
The king delighted in me, now I am but a noddy.

ARISTIPPUS. In faith, Carisophus, you know yourself best,
But I will not call you noddy, but only in jest,
And thus I assure you, though I came from school
To serve in this court, I came not yet to be the king’s fool;
Or to fill his ears with servile squirrility.[17]
That office is yours, you know it right perfectly.
Of parasites and sycophants you are a grave[18] bencher,
The king feeds you often from his own trencher,
I envy not your state, nor yet your great favour,
Then grudge not at all, if in my behaviour
I make the king merry with pleasant urbanity,
Whom I never abused to any man’s injury.

CARISOPHUS. By Cock, sir, yet in the court you do[19] best thrive,
For you get more in one day than I do in five.

ARISTIPPUS. Why, man, in the court do you not see
Rewards given for virtue to every degree?
To reward the unworthy--that world is done:
The court is changed, a good thread hath been spun
Of dog’s wool heretofore, and why because it was liked,
And not for that it was best trimmed and picked:
But now men’s ears are finer, such gross toys are not set by,
Therefore to a trimmer kind of mirth myself I apply:
Wherein though I please, it cometh not of my desert,
But of the king’s favour.

CARISOPHUS. It may so be; yet in your prosperity
Despise not an old courtier: Carisophus is he,
Which hath long time fed Dionysius’ humour:
Diligently to please still at hand: there was never rumour
Spread in this[20] town of any small thing, but I
Brought it to the king in post by and by.
Yet now I crave your friendship, which if I may attain,
Most sure and unfeigned friendship I promise you again:
So we two link’d in friendship, brother and brother,
Full well in the court may help one another.

ARISTIPPUS. By’r Lady, Carisophus, though you know not philosophy,
Yet surely you are a better courtier than I:
And yet I not so evil a courtier, that will seem to despise
Such an old courtier as you, so expert and so wise.
But where as you crave mine, and offer your friendship so willingly,
With heart I give you thanks for this your great courtesy:
Assuring of friendship both with tooth and nail,
Whiles life lasteth, never to fail.

CARISOPHUS. A thousand thanks I give you, O friend Aristippus.

ARISTIPPUS. O friend Carisophus.

CARISOPHUS. How joyful am I, sith I have to friend Aristippus now?

ARISTIPPUS. None so glad of Carisophus’ friendship as I, I make God
a vow,
I speak as I think, believe me.

CARISOPHUS. Sith we are now so friendly joined, it seemeth to me,
That one of us help each other in every degree:
Prefer you my cause, when you are in presence,
To further your matters to the king let me alone in your absence.

ARISTIPPUS. Friend Carisophus, this shall be done as you would wish:
But I pray you tell me thus much by the way,
Whither now from this place will you take your journey?

CARISOPHUS. I will not dissemble, that were against friendship,
I go into the city some knaves to nip
For talk, with their goods to increase the king’s treasure,
In such kind of service I set my chief pleasure:
Farewell, friend[21] Aristippus, now for a time.
[_Exit._

ARISTIPPUS. Adieu, friend Carisophus--In good faith now,
Of force I must laugh at this solemn vow.
Is Aristippus link’d in friendship with Carisophus?
_Quid cum tanto asino talis philosophus?_
They say, _Morum similitudo consuit[22] amicitias_;
Then how can this friendship between us two come to pass?
We are as like in condition as Jack Fletcher and his bolt;[23]
I brought up in learning, but he is a very dolt
As touching good letters; but otherwise such a crafty knave,
If you seek a whole region, his like you cannot have:
A villain for his life, a varlet dyed in grain,
You lose money by him, if you sell him for one knave,[24] for he
serves for twain:
A flattering parasite, a sycophant also,
A common accuser of men, to the good an open foe.
Of half a word he can make a legend of lies,
Which he will avouch with such tragical cries,
As though all were true that comes out of his mouth.
Whereas indeed, to be hanged by and by,[25]
He cannot tell one tale, but twice he must lie.
He spareth no man’s life to get the king’s favour,
In which kind of service he hath got such a savour,[26]
That he will never leave. Methink then that I
Have done very wisely to join in friendship with him, lest perhaps I
Coming in his way might be nipp’d; for such knaves in presence
We see oft times put honest men to silence:
Yet I have played with his beard in knitting this knot,
I promis’d friendship; but, you love few words--I spake it, but I
meant it not.[27]
Who marks this friendship between us two
Shall judge of the worldly friendship without any more ado.
It may be a right pattern[28] thereof; but true friendship indeed
Of nought but of virtue doth truly proceed.
But why do I now enter into philosophy,
Which do profess the fine kind of courtesy?
I will hence to the court with all haste I may;
I think the king be stirring, it is now bright day.
To wait at a pinch still in sight I mean,
For wot ye what? a new broom sweeps clean[29]
As to high honour I mind not to climb,
So I mean in the court to lose no time:
Wherein, happy man be his dole,[30] I trust that I
Shall not speed worst, and that very quickly.
[_Exit._

_Here entereth_ DAMON _and_ PITHIAS _like mariners._

DAMON. O Neptune, immortal be thy praise,
For that so safe from Greece we have pass’d the seas
To this noble city Syracuse, where we
The ancient reign of the Romans may see.
Whose force Greece also heretofore hath known,
Whose virtue the shrill trump of fame so far hath blown.

PITHIAS. My Damon, of right high praise we ought to give
To Neptune and all the gods, that we safely did arrive:
The seas, I think, with contrary winds never raged so;
I am even yet so seasick, that I faint as I go;
Therefore let us get some lodging quickly.
But where is Stephano?

_Here entereth_ STEPHANO.

STEPHANO. Not far hence: a pox take these mariner-knaves,
Not one would help me to carry this stuff, such drunken slaves
I think be accursed of the gods’ own mouths.

DAMON. Stephano, leave thy raging, and let us enter Syracuse,
We will provide lodging, and thou shalt be eased of thy burden by
and by.

STEPHANO. Good master, make haste, for I tell you plain,
This heavy burden puts poor Stephano to much pain.

PITHIAS. Come on thy ways, thou shalt be eased, and that anon.
[_Exeunt._

_Here entereth_ CARISOPHUS.

CARISOPHUS. It is a true saying, that oft hath been spoken,
The pitcher goeth so long to the water, that it[31] cometh home
broken.
My own proof this hath taught me, for truly, sith I
In the city have used to walk very slyly,
Not with one can I meet, that will in talk join with me,
And to creep into men’s bosoms,[32] some talk for to snatch,
But which, into one trip or other, I might trimly them catch,
And so accuse them--now, not with one can I meet,
That will join in talk with me, I am shunn’d like a devil in the
street.
My credit is crack’d, where I am known; but I hear say,
Certain strangers are arrived: they were a good prey;
If happily I might meet with them, I fear not, I,
But in talk I should trip them, and that very finely.
Which thing, I assure you, I do for mine own gain,
Or else I would not plod thus up and down, I tell you plain.
Well, I will for a while to the court, to see
What Aristippus doth; I would be loth in favour he should overrun me;
He is a subtle child, he flattereth so finely, that I fear me
He will lick the fat from my lips, and so outwear[33] me:
Therefore I will not be long absent, but at hand,
That all his fine drifts I may understand.
[_Exit._

_Here entereth_ WILL _and_ JACK.

WILL. I wonder what my master Aristippus means now-a-days,
That he leaveth philosophy, and seeks[34] to please
King Dionysius with such merry toys:
In Dionysius’ court now he only joys,
As trim a courtier as the best,
Ready to answer, quick in taunts, pleasant to jest;
A lusty companion to devise with fine dames,
Whose humour to feed his wily wit he frames.

JACK. By Cock, as you say, your master is a minion:
A foul coil he keeps in this court; Aristippus alone
Now rules the roost with his pleasant devices,
That I fear he will put out of conceit my master Carisophus.

WILL. Fear not that, Jack; for, like brother and brother,
They are knit in true friendship the one with the other;
They are fellows, you know, and honest men both,
Therefore the one to hinder the other they will be loth.

JACK. Yea, but I have heard say there is falsehood in fellowship,
In the court sometimes one gives another finely the slip:
Which when it is spied, it is laugh’d out with a scoff,[35]
And with sporting and playing quickly[36] shaken off:
In which kind of toying thy master hath such a grace,
That he will never blush, he hath a wooden face.
But, Will, my master hath bees in his head,
If he find me here prating, I am but dead:
He is still trotting in the city, there is somewhat in the wind;
His looks bewray his inward troubled mind:
Therefore I will be packing to the court by and by;
If he be once angry, Jack shall cry, woe the pie!

WILL. By’r Lady, if I tarry long here, of the same sauce shall I
taste,
For my master sent me on an errand, and bad me make haste,
Therefore we will depart together.
[_Exeunt._

_Here entereth_ STEPHANO.

STEPHANO. Ofttimes I have heard, before I came hither,
That no man can serve two masters together;
A sentence so true, as most men do take it,
At any time false that no man can make it:
And yet by their leave, that first have it spoken,
How that may prove false, even here I will open:
For I, Stephano, lo, so named by my father,
At this time serve two masters together,
And love them alike: the one and the other
I duly obey, I can do no other.
A bondman I am, so nature hath wrought me,
One Damon of Greece, a gentleman, bought me.
To him I stand bound, yet serve I another,
Whom Damon my master loves as his own brother:
A gentleman too, and Pithias he is named,
Fraught with virtue, whom vice never defamed.
These two, since at school they fell acquainted,
In mutual friendship at no time have fainted.
But loved so kindly and friendly each other,
As though they were brothers by father and mother.
Pythagoras learning these two have embraced,
Which both are in virtue so narrowly laced,
That all their whole doings do fall to this issue,
To have no respect but only to virtue:
All one in effect, all one in their going,
All one in their study, all one in their doing.
These gentlemen both, being of one condition.
Both alike of my service have all the fruition:
Pithias is joyful, if Damon be pleased:
If Pithias is served, then Damon is eased.
Serve one, serve both (so near[37]), who would win them:
I think they have but one heart between them.
In travelling countries we three have contrived[38]
Full many a year, and this day arrived
At Syracuse in Sicilia, that ancient town,
Where my masters are lodged; and I up and down
Go seeking to learn what news here are walking,
To hark of what things the people are talking.
I like not this soil, for as I go plodding,
I mark there two, there three, their heads always nodding,
In close secret wise, still whispering together.
If I ask any question, no man doth answer:
But shaking their heads, they go their ways speaking;
I mark how with tears their wet eyes are leaking:
Some strangeness there is, that breedeth this musing.
Well, I will to my masters, and tell of their using,
That they may learn, and walk wisely together:
I fear we shall curse the time we came hither.
[_Exit._

_Here entereth_ ARISTIPPUS _and_ WILL.

ARISTIPPUS. Will, didst thou hear the ladies so talk of me?
What aileth them? from their nips[39] shall I never be free?

WILL. Good faith, sir, all the ladies in the court do plainly
report,
That without mention of them you can make no sport:
They are your plain-song to sing descant upon;[40]
If they were not, your mirth were gone.
Therefore, master, jest no more with women in any wise,
If you do, by Cock, you are like to know the price.

ARISTIPPUS. By’r Lady, Will, this is good counsel: plainly to jest
Of women, proof hath taught me is not the best:
I will change my copy, howbeit I care not a quinch,[41]
I know the gall’d horse will soonest winch:
But learn thou secretly how privily they talk
Of me in the court: among them slyly walk,
And bring me true news thereof.

WILL. I will, sir master, thereof have no doubt, for I
Where they talk of you will inform you perfectly.

ARISTIPPUS. Do so, my boy: if thou bring it finely to pass,
For thy good service thou shalt go in thine old coat at Christmas.
[_Exeunt._

_Enter_ DAMON, PITHIAS, STEPHANO.

DAMON. Stephano, is all this true that thou hast told me?

STEPHANO. Sir, for lies hitherto ye never controll’d me.
O, that we had never set foot on this land,
Where Dionysius reigns with so bloody a hand!
Every day he showeth some token of cruelty,
With blood he hath filled all the streets in the city:
I tremble to hear the people’s murmuring,
I lament to see his most cruel dealing:
I think there is no such tyrant under the sun.
O, my dear masters, this morning what hath he done!

DAMON. What is that? tell us quickly.

STEPHANO. As I this morning pass’d in the street,
With a woful man (going to his death) did I meet,
Many people followed, and I of one secretly
Asked the cause, why he was condemned to die?
[Who] whispered in mine ear, nought hath he done but thus,
In his sleep he dreamed he had killed Dionysius:[42]
Which dream told abroad, was brought to the king in post,
By whom, condemned for suspicion, his life he hath lost.
Marcia was his name, as the people said.

PITHIAS. My dear friend Damon, I blame not Stephano
For wishing we had not come hither, seeing it is so,
That for so small cause such cruel death doth ensue.

DAMON. My Pithias, where tyrants reign, such cases are not new,
Which fearing their own state for great cruelty,[43]
To sit fast as they think, do execute speedily
All such as any light suspicion have tainted.

STEPHANO (_aside_). With such quick carvers I list not be acquainted.

DAMON. So are they never in quiet, but in suspicion still,
When one is made away, they take occasion another to kill:
Ever in fear, having no trusty friend, void of all peoples’ love,
And in their own conscience a continual hell they prove.

PITHIAS. As things by their contraries are always best proved,
How happy then are merciful princes, of their people beloved!
Having sure friends everywhere, no fear doth touch them:
They may safely spend the day pleasantly, at night _securè dormiunt
in utramque aurem_,
O my Damon, if choice were offered me, I would choose to be Pithias,
As I am Damon’s friend, rather than to be king Dionysius.

STEPHANO. And good cause why; for you are entirely beloved of one,
And as far as I hear, Dionysius is beloved of none.

DAMON. That state is most miserable; thrice happy are we,
Whom true love hath joined in perfect amity:
Which amity first sprung--without vaunting be it spoken, that is
true--
Of likeness of manners, took root by company, and now is conserved
by virtue;
Which virtue always though[44] worldly things do not frame,
Yet doth she achieve to her followers immortal fame:
Whereof if men were careful for virtue’s sake only,
They would honour friendship, and not for commodity.
But such as for profit in friendship do link,
When storms come, they slide away sooner than a man will think.
My Pithias, the sum of my talk falls to this issue,
To prove no friendship is sure, but that which is grounded on virtue.

PITHIAS. My Damon, of this thing there needs no proof to me,
The gods forbid, but that Pithias with Damon in all things should agree.
For why is it said, _Amicus alter ipse_,
But that true friends should be two in body, but one in mind?
As it were transformed into another, which against kind
Though it seem, yet in good faith, when I am alone,
I forget I am Pithias, methink I am Damon.

STEPHANO. That could I never do, to forget myself; full well I know,
Wheresoever I go, that I am _pauper_ Stephano:
But I pray you, sir, for all your philosophy,
See that in this court you walk very wisely.
You are but newly come hither; being strangers, ye know,
Many eyes are bent on you, in the streets as ye go:
Many spies are abroad, you can not be too circumspect.

DAMON. Stephano, because thou art careful of me, thy master, I do
thee praise;
Yet think this for a surety: no state to displease
By talk or otherwise my friend and I intend: we will here,
As men that come to see the soil and manners of all men of every
degree.
Pythagoras said, that this world was like a stage,[45]
Whereon many play their parts: the lookers-on, the sage.
Philosophers are, saith he, whose part is to learn
The manners of all nations, and the good from the bad to discern.

STEPHANO. Good faith, sir, concerning the people they are not gay,
And as far as I see, they be mummers; for nought they say,
For the most part, whatsoever you ask them.
The soil is such, that to live here I cannot like.

DAMON. Thou speakest according to thy learning, but I say,
_Omne solum forti partia_,[46] a wise man may live everywhere;
Therefore, my dear friend Pithias,
Let us view this town in every place,
And then consider the people’s manners also.

PITHIAS. As you will, my Damon; but how say you, Stephano?
Is it not best, ere we go further, to take some repast?

STEPHANO. In faith, I like this question, sir: for all your haste,
To eat somewhat I pray you think it no folly;
It is high dinner time, I know by my belly.

DAMON. Then let us to our lodging depart: when dinner is done,
We will view this city as we have begun.
[_Exeunt._

_Here entereth_ CARISOPHUS.

CARISOPHUS. Once again in hope of good wind, I hoise up my sail,
I go into the city to find some prey for mine avail:
I hunger while I may see these strangers that lately
Arrived: I were safe, if once I might meet them happily.
Let them bark that lust at this kind of gain,
He is a fool that for his profit will not pain:
Though it be joined with other men’s hurt, I care not at all
For profit I will accuse any man, hap what shall.
But soft, sirs, I pray you hush: what are they that comes here?
By their apparel and countenance some strangers they appear.
I will shroud myself secretly, even here for a while,
To hear all their talk, that I may them beguile.

_Here entereth_ DAMON _and_ STEPHANO.

STEPHANO. A short horse soon curried[47]; my belly waxeth thinner,
I am as hungry now, as when I went to dinner:
Your philosophical diet is so fine and small,
That you may eat your dinner and supper at once, and not surfeit at
all.

DAMON. Stephano, much meat breeds heaviness: thin diet makes thee
light.

STEPHANO. I may be lighter thereby, but I shall never run the faster.

DAMON. I have had sufficiently discourse of amity,
Which I had at dinner with Pithias; and his pleasant company
Hath fully satisfied me: it doth me good to feed mine eyes on him.

STEPHANO. Course or discourse, your course is very coarse; for all
your talk,
You had but one bare course, and that was pick, rise, and walk:
And surely, for all your talk of philosophy,
I never heard that a man with words could fill his belly.
Feed your eyes, quoth you? the reason from my wisdom swerveth,
I stared on you both, and yet my belly starveth.

DAMON. Ah, Stephano, small diet maketh a fine memory.

STEPHANO. I care not for your crafty sophistry,
You two are fine, let me be fed like a gross knave still;
I pray you licence me for a while to have my will,
At home to tarry, whiles you take view of this city!
To find some odd victuals in a corner I am very witty.

DAMON. At your pleasure, sir: I will wait on myself this day;
Yet attend upon Pithias, which for a purpose tarrieth at home:
So doing, you wait upon me also.

STEPHANO. With wings on my feet I go.
[_Exit._

DAMON. Not in vain the poet saith, _Naturam furcâ expellas, tamen
usque recurret_;
For train up a bondman never to so good a behaviour,
Yet in some point of servility he will savour:
As this Stephano, trusty to me his master, loving and kind,
Yet touching his belly a very bondman I him find.
He is to be borne withal, being so just and true,
I assure you, I would not change him for no new.
But methinks this is a pleasant city;
The seat is good,[48] and yet not strong; and that is great pity.

CARISOPHUS (_aside_). I am safe, he is mine own.

DAMON. The air subtle and fine, the people should be witty,
That dwell under this climate in so pure a region:
A trimmer plat I have not seen in my peregrination.
Nothing misliketh me in this country,
But that I heard such muttering of cruelty:
Fame reporteth strange things of Dionysius,
But kings’ matters passing our reach, pertain not to us.

CARISOPHUS. Dionysius, quoth you? since the world began,
In Sicilia never reigned so cruel a man:
A despiteful tyrant to all men; I marvel, I,
That none makes him away, and that suddenly.

DAMON. My friend, the gods forbid so cruel a thing
That any man should lift up his sword against the king!
Or seek other means by death him to prevent,
Whom to rule on earth the mighty gods have sent.
But, my friend, leave off this talk of King Dionysius.

CARISOPHUS. Why, sir? he cannot hear us.

DAMON. What then? _An nescis longas regibus esse manus?_
It is no safe talking of them that strikes afar off.
But leaving kings’ matters, I pray you show me this courtesy,
To describe in few words the state of this city.
A traveller I am, desirous to know
The state of each country, wherever I go:
Not to the hurt of any state, but to get experience thereby.
It is not for nought, that the poet doth cry,
_Dic mihi musa virum, captæ post tempora Trojæ,
Qui mores hominum multorum vidit et urbes._[49]
In which verses, as some writers do scan,
The poet describeth a perfect wise man:
Even so I, being a stranger, addicted to philosophy,
To see the state of countries myself I apply.

CARISOPHUS. Sir, I like this intent, but may I ask your name without
scorn?

DAMON. My name is Damon, well known in my country, a gentleman born.

CARISOPHUS. You do wisely to search the state of each country
To bear intelligence thereof, whither you lust. He is a spy, [_Aside._
Sir, I pray you, have patience awhile, for I have to do hereby:
View this weak part of this city as you stand, and I very quickly
Will return to you again, and then will I show
The state of all this country, and of the court also.

DAMON. I thank you for your courtesy.
[_Exit Caris._]
This chanceth well, that I
Met with this gentleman so happily,
Which, as it seemeth, misliketh something,
Else he would not talk so boldly of the king,
And that to a stranger: but lo, where he comes in haste.

_Here entereth_ CARISOPHUS _and_ SNAP.

CARISOPHUS. This is the[50] fellow: Snap, snap him up: away with
him.

SNAP. Good fellow, thou must go with me to the court.

DAMON. To the court, sir? and why?

CARISOPHUS. Well, we will dispute that before the king. Away with
him quickly.

DAMON. Is this the courtesy you promised me, and that very lately?

CARISOPHUS. Away with him, I say.

DAMON. Use no violence, I will go with you quietly.
[_Exeunt omnes._

_Here entereth_ ARISTIPPUS.

ARISTIPPUS. Ah, sirrah, by’r Lady, Aristippus likes Dionysius’ court
very well,
Which in passing joys and pleasures doth excel.
Where he hath _dapsiles cœnas, geniales lectos, et auro
Fulgentem tyranni zonam_.[51]
I have plied the harvest, and stroke when the iron was hot;
When I spied my time, I was not squeamish to crave, God wot!
But with some pleasant toy[52] I crept into the king’s bosom,
For which Dionysius gave me _Auri talentum magnum_--
A large reward for so simple services.
What, then? the king’s praise standeth chiefly in bountifulness:
Which thing though I told the king very pleasantly,
Yet can I prove it by good writers of great antiquity:
But that shall not need at this time, since that I have abundantly:
When I lack hereafter, I will use this point of philosophy:
But now, whereas I have felt the king’s liberality,
As princely as it came, I will spend it as regally:
Money is current, men say, and current comes of _Currendo_:
Then will I make money run, as his nature requireth, I trow.
For what becomes a philosopher best,
But to despise money above the rest?
And yet not so despise it, but to have in store
Enough to serve his own turn, and somewhat more.
With sundry sports and taunts yesternight I delighted the king,
That with his loud laughter the whole court did ring,
And I thought he laugh’d not merrier than I, when I got this money.
But, mumbudget,[53] for Carisophus I espy
In haste to come hither: I must handle the knave finely.

_Here entereth_ CARISOPHUS.

O Carisophus, my dearest friend, my trusty companion!
What news with you? where have you been so long?

CARISOPHUS. My best beloved friend Aristippus, I am come at last;
I have not spent all my time in waste.
I have got a prey, and that a good one, I trow.

ARISTIPPUS. What prey is that? fain would I know.

CARISOPHUS. Such a crafty spy I have caught, I dare say,
As never was in Sicilia before this day;
Such a one as viewed every weak place in the city,
Surviewed the haven and each bulwark in talk very witty:
And yet by some words himself he did bewray.

ARISTIPPUS. I think so in good faith, as you did handle him.

CARISOPHUS. I handled him clerkly, I joined in talk with him
courteously:
But when we were entered, I let him speak his will, and I
Suck’d out thus much of his words, that I made him say plainly,
He was come hither to know the state of the city;
And not only this, but that he would understand
The state of Dionysius’ court and of the whole land.
Which words when I heard, I desired him to stay,
Till I had done a little business of the way.
Promising him to return again quickly; and so did convey
Myself to the court for Snap the tipstaff, which came and upsnatched
him,
Brought him to the court, and in the porter’s lodge dispatched him,
After I ran to Dionysius, as fast as I could,
And bewrayed this matter to him, which I have you told;
Which thing when he heard, being very merry before,
He suddenly fell in dump, and foaming like a boar,
At last he swore in great rage, that he should die
By the sword or the wheel, and that very shortly.
I am too shamefast: for my travail and toil
I crave nothing of Dionysius, but only his spoil:
Little hath he about him, but a few motheaten crowns of gold,
Cha pouch’d them up already, they are sure in hold:
And now I go into the city, to say sooth,
To see what he hath at his lodging to make up my mouth.[54]

ARISTIPPUS. My Carisophus, you have done good service, But what is
the spy’s name?

CARISOPHUS. He is called Damon, born in Greece, from whence lately
he came.

ARISTIPPUS. By my troth, I will go see him, and speak with him too,
if I may.

CARISOPHUS. Do so, I pray you; but yet by the way,
As occasion serveth, commend my service to the king.

ARISTIPPUS. _Dictum sapienti sat est_: friend Carisophus, shall I
forget that thing?
No, I warrant you: though I say little to your face,
I will lay on with my mouth for you to Dionysius,[55] when I am in
place.
[_Aside_] If I speak one word for such a knave, hang me.
[_Exit._

CARISOPHUS. Our fine philosopher, our trim learned elf,
Is gone to see as false a spy as himself.
Damon smatters as well as he of crafty philosophy,
And can turn cat in the pan[56] very prettily:
But Carisophus hath given him such a mighty check,
As I think in the end will break his neck.
What care I for that? why would[57] he then pry,
And learn the secret estate of our country and city?
He is but a stranger, by his fall let others be wise,
I care not who fall, so that I may rise.
As for fine Aristippus, I will keep in with him,
He is a shrewd fool to deal withal, he can swim;
And yet by my troth, to speak my conscience plainly,
I will use his friendship to mine own commodity.[58]
While Dionysius favoureth him, Aristippus shall be mine;
But if the king once frown on him, then good night, Tomalin:
He shall be as strange, as though I never saw him before.
But I tarry too long, I will prate no more.
Jack, come away.

JACK. At hand, sir.

CARISOPHUS. At Damon’s lodging, if that you see
Any stir to arise, be still at hand by me:
Rather than I will lose the spoil, I will blade[59] it out.
[_Exeunt._

_Here entereth_ PITHIAS _and_ STEPHANO.

PITHIAS. What strange news are these! ah, my Stephano,
Is my Damon in prison, as the voice doth go?

STEPHANO. It is true, O cruel hap! he is taken for a spy,
And as they say, by Dionysius’ own mouth condemned to die.

PITHIAS. To die! Alas! For what cause?

STEPHANO. A sycophant falsely accused him: other cause there is
none.
But, O Jupiter, of all wrongs the revenger,
Seest thou this unjustice, and wilt thou stay any longer
From heaven to send down thy hot consuming fire,
To destroy the workers of wrong, which provoke thy just ire?
Alas! Master Pithias, what shall we do,
Being in a strange country, void of friends and acquaintance too?
Ah, poor Stephano, hast thou lived to see this day,
To see thy true master unjustly made away?

PITHIAS. Stephano, seeing the matter is come to this extremity,
Let us make virtue our friend of mere necessity.
Run thou to the court, and understand secretly
As much as thou canst of Damon’s cause, and I
Will make some means to entreat Aristippus:
He can do much, as I hear, with King Dionysius.

STEPHANO. I am gone, sir. Ah, I would to God my travail and pain
Might restore my master to his liberty again!

PITHIAS. Ah woful Pithias! sith now I am alone,
What way shall I first begin to make my moan?
What words shall I find apt for my complaint?
Damon, my friend, my joy, my life, is in peril. Of force I must now
faint.
But, O music, as in joyful times[60] thy merry notes did borrow,
So now lend me thy yearnful tunes to utter my sorrow.

_Here_ PITHIAS _sings and the regals[61] play._

_Awake, ye woful wights,
That long have wept in woe:
Resign to me your plaints and tears,
My hapless hap to show.
My woe no tongue can tell,
No pen can well descry:
O, what a death is this to hear,
Damon my friend must die!_

_The loss of worldly wealth
Man’s wisdom may restore,
And physic hath provided too
A salve for every sore:
But my true friend once lost,
No art can well supply:
Then, what a death is this to hear,
Damon my friend must die!_

_My mouth, refuse the food,
That should my limbs sustain:
Let sorrow sink into my breast,
And ransack every vein:
Ye Furies, all at once
On me your torments try:
Why should I live, since that I hear[62]
Damon my friend must[63] die!_

_Gripe me, you greedy grief
And present pangs of death,
You sisters three, with cruel hands
With speed come[64] stop my breath:
Shrine me in clay alive,
Some good man stop mine eye:
O death, come now, seeing I hear
Damon my friend must die._

_He speaketh this after the song._

In vain I call for death, which heareth not my complaint:
But what wisdom is this, in such extremity to faint?
_Multum juvat in re malâ animus bonus._
I will to the court myself, to make friends, and that presently.
I will never forsake my friend in time of misery--
But do I see Stephano amazed hither to run?

_Here entereth_ STEPHANO.

STEPHANO. O Pithias, Pithias, we are all undone!
Mine own ears have sucked in mine own sorrow;
I heard Dionysius swear, that Damon should die to-morrow.

PITHIAS. How camest thou so near the presence of the king,
That thou mightest hear Dionysius speak this thing?

STEPHANO. By friendship I gat into the court, where in great
audience
I heard Dionysius with his own mouth give this cruel sentence
By these express words: that Damon the Greek, that crafty spy,
Without further judgment to-morrow should die:
Believe me, Pithias, with these ears I heard it myself.

PITHIAS. Then how near is my death also! Ah, woe is me!
Ah my Damon, another myself, shall I forego thee?

STEPHANO. Sir, there is no time of lamenting now: it behoveth us
To make means to them which can do much with Dionysius,
That he be not made away, ere his cause be fully heard; for we see
By evil report things be made to princes far worse than they be.
But lo, yonder cometh Aristippus, in great favour with king
Dionysius,
Entreat him to speak a good word to the king for us,
And in the mean season I will to your lodging to see all things safe
there.

PITHIAS. To that I agree: but let us slip aside his talk to hear.

_Here entereth_ ARISTIPPUS.

ARISTIPPUS. Here is a sudden change indeed, a strange metamorphosis,
This court is clean altered: who would have thought this?
Dionysius, of late so pleasant and merry,
Is quite changed now into such melancholy,
That nothing can please him: he walketh up and down,
Fretting and chaffing, on every man he doth frown;
In so much that, when I in pleasant words began to play,
So sternly he frowned on me, and knit me up so short,
I perceive it is no safe playing with lions, but when it please them;
If you claw where it itch not, you shall disease them,
And so perhaps get a clap; mine own proof taught me this,
That it is very good to be merry and wise.
The only cause of this hurly-burly is Carisophus, that wicked man,
Which lately took Damon for a spy, a poor gentleman,
And hath incensed the king against him so despitefully,
That Dionysius hath judged him to-morrow to die.
I have talk’d with Damon, whom though in words I found very witty,
Yet was he more curious than wise in viewing this city:
But truly, for aught I can learn, there is no cause why
So suddenly and cruelly he should be condemned to die:
Howsoever it be, this is the short and long,
I dare not gainsay the king, be it right or wrong:
I am sorry, and that is all I may or can do in this case:
Nought availeth persuasion, where froward opinion taketh place.

PITHIAS. Sir, if humble suits you would not despise,
Then bow on[65] me your pitiful eyes.
My name is Pithias, in Greece well known,
A perfect friend to that woful Damon,
Which now a poor captive in this court doth lie,
By the king’s own mouth, as I hear, condemned to die;
For whom I crave your mastership’s goodness,
To stand his friend in this his great distress.
Nought hath he done worthy of death; but very fondly,
Being a stranger, he viewed this city:
For no evil practices, but to feed his eyes.
But seeing Dionysius is informed otherwise,
My suit is to you, when you see time and place,
To assuage the king’s anger, and to purchase his grace:
In which doing you shall not do good to one only,
But you shall further two,[66] and that fully.

ARISTIPPUS. My friend, in this case I can do you no pleasure.

PITHIAS. Sir, you serve in the court, as fame doth tell.

ARISTIPPUS. I am of the court indeed, but none of the council.

PITHIAS. As I hear, none is in greater favour with the king, than
you at this day.