Chapter I: Part 1

A SELECT COLLECTION OF OLD ENGLISH PLAYS

VOL. I

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

BY W. CAREW HAZLITT.

CONTENTS

Preface Interlude of the Four Elements Calisto and Melibaea Everyman: a Moral Play Hickscorner The Pardoner and the Friar The World and the Child (Mundus and Infans) God's Promises The Four P.P. A New Interlude, called Thersites Footnotes

PREFACE.

After the lapse of about half a century since the issue of the last edition of _Dodsley's Select Collection of Old Plays_,[1] and the admittance of that work into the honourable rank of scarce and dear books, it seemed a desirable thing to attempt, with such additional improvements as might be practicable or expedient, a revival of a publication which has been a favourite with the lovers of our early drama since its first publication more than a hundred years ago. Between 1744, the date of its original appearance, and 1825, it passed through three editions; and it may be remarked that the tendency in each successive edition has been to remodel the undertaking on the principle of rejecting plays which from time to time have been lifted up (so to speak) into the collected works of their respective authors, and to substitute for them plays which have either suffered unmerited obscurity in original and rare editions, or have lain so far scattered about in various other collections; and in the present instance that principle has been strictly adhered to.[2]

It is desirable that it should be seen precisely in what manner, and to what extent, the edition now offered differs from its predecessors as regards the contents. The points of variation are three: 1. Omissions; 2. Additions of pieces not included in the former editions; 3. Additional plays now first reprinted from the originals. The first division comprises the following productions which, since the last republication of Dodsley, have been taken up into the collected editions of their respective authors:--

Ferrex and Porrex _Sackville, &c_. Alexander and Campaspe _Lyly_. Jew of Malta _Marlowe_. Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay _Greene_. Edward the First _Peele_ Edward the Second _Marlowe_. Pinner of Wakefield _Greene_. Four Prentices of London _Heywood_. Mayor of Quinborough _Middleton_. Malcontent _Marston, &c_. All Fools _Chapman_. Woman Killed with Kindness _Heywood_. Honest Whore (two parts) _Decker and Middleton_. The White Devil _Webster_. Eastward Hoe _Marston, &c_. A Mad World, my Masters _Middleton_. The Roaring Girl _Middleton_. The Widow's Tears _Chapman_. The Widow _Jonson, &c_. The Wits _Davenant_. The Jovial Crew _Brome_.

The second and third characteristics of our book are the ADDITIONS, which, as we have stated, are of two kinds. In the first place, we may enumerate the dramas new to Dodsley's collection, though previously edited in a variety of forms:

Interlude of the Four Elements _Anon_. Disobedient Child _Ingelend_. Trial of Treasure _Anon_. Youth _Anon_. Lusty Juventus _Wever_. Hickscorner, An Interlude _Anon_. Everyman, An Interlude _Anon_. Pardoner and Friar, An Interlude _Heywood_. Jack Juggler | _Anon_. Thersites | Interludes _Anon_. Ralph Roister Doister _Udall_. Cambyses _Preston_. Conflict of Conscience _Woodes_. Three Ladies of London _Wilmot_. Three Lords and Three Ladies of London _Wilmot_. Rare Triumphs of Love and Fortune _Anon_. Knack to Know a Knave _Anon_. Jeronimo (Part the First) _Anon_. Two Angry Women of Abingdon _Porter_. Spanish Tragedy _Kyd_. Solyman and Perseda _Anon_. How a Man may choose a Good Wife from a Bad _Anon_. Englishmen for my Money _Haughton_. Second Maiden's Tragedy _Anon_. Wily Beguiled _Anon_. Return from Parnassus _Anon_. New Wonder _Rowley_. Rebellion _Rawlins_. Lust's Dominion _Anon_.

"The Lost Lady," by Sir William Berkley or Barkley; "The Marriage Night," by Lord Falkland; "The Shepherd's Holiday," by Joseph Butter; "Andromana," by J.S., and "All Mistaken, or the Mad Couple," which were given by Dodsley in 1744, but were omitted in the second and third impressions, have been restored to their places.

The remaining feature, recommending the undertaking to indulgent notice, is perhaps the most important and interesting. Subjoined is a list of the dramatic compositions which have never hitherto appeared in any series of Old English Plays, and of which the originals are of the utmost rarity:--

1. The Tragi-Comedy of Calisto and Melibaea, 1520. 2. Nice Wanton, An Interlude, 1560. 3. An Interlude, called Like Will to Like, by Ulpian Fulwell, 1568. 4. The History of Jacob and Esau, 1568. 5. The Marriage of Wit and Science, 1570.

A strictly chronological arrangement has been adopted. Such a plan appeared to be the most desirable and the most obvious, as it facilitates our appreciation of the gradual and progressive development of dramatic composition. If it may be thought to labour under any disadvantage, it is perhaps that it has the effect of throwing into a single consecutive series, without discrimination, pieces which are mere interludes, and others which are characterised by higher qualities, and aspire to belong to the regular drama. But the evil will be found not to be of a very serious kind, and it will disappear after the earlier volumes of the collection.

In fixing the order of sequence, the place of a production in the series has been occasionally determined by the date at which it is believed to have been written or presented, rather than by the date at which it left the printer's hands. Such is the case with Heywood's "Pardoner and Friar," and the anonymous interlude of "New Custom;" as well as with "Ralph Roister Doister," and "Gammer Gurton's Needle," all of which may be taken to belong to a period some time anterior to their publication.

A leading characteristic of the collection as now reconstructed is the great preponderance of pieces, of which the authors are not known, or by authors who have not left more than one or two dramatic productions. It was judged expedient, in the interest of purchasers, to give a preference to these single or anonymous plays, as it will probably not be long before the works of every voluminous writer are collected. Those of Jonson, Shirley, Peele, Greene, Ford, Massinger, Middleton, and Chapman, have already been edited, and Brome's, Deckers, Heywood's, and Glapthorne's will follow in due course. To all these the new DODSLEY will serve as a supplement and companion.

The editor felt himself in a position of somewhat special difficulty and delicacy, when it became necessary to consider the question of retaining or excluding the prefatory matter attached to the impressions of this work in 1744 and 1780. A careful and impartial perusal of that matter made it evident that the prudent course, on the whole, was to reject these prolegomena. There was no alternative but their entire preservation or their entire suppression; for any arbitrary alterations or curtailments would have been liable to objection or censure. In the first place, there was Dodsley's own preface, chiefly occupied by a sketch of the history of our stage, but based on the most imperfect information, and extremely unsatisfactory, if not misleading. Then there was, like Pelion heaped on Ossa, Isaac Reed's introduction, more elaborate and copious than Dodsley's, yet far from complete or systematic, and not improved by the presence of an appendix or sequel. Reed, of course, went over the same ground as Dodsley had already traversed with inferior ability and less ample resources at his command, and there were repetitions, as might be expected, of the same particulars. There seemed to be two forms of weakness--redundancy on the one hand and meagreness on the other. Again, all the information collected by Dodsley and Reed was to be found elsewhere, with innumerable improvements and corrections of mistakes, the subject itself more methodically handled, and the early annals of the English drama and theatre almost presented to the public view under a new aspect, by Mr Collier, in his well-known work printed in 1831, a publication heartily welcomed and appreciated at the time of its appearance and long after, and even now a literary monument, of which it may be said that, with whatever defects it may possess, it reflects as much credit on its author as a far more perfect performance brought to completion at the present day under more favourable auspices could reflect on any one else. It was a long advance on anything which had been attempted so far in the same direction; and to reproduce, in the face of Mr Collier's volumes, the obsolete and superseded labours of Dodsley and even Reed, seemed to be a waste of space which might be far more beneficially occupied by additional texts.

As regards the orthography, it has to be pointed out that, in consonance with the system adopted by Dyce and others, it has been reduced to our modern standard; but at the same time it should be understood that the _language_ of the writers has in every case been held sacred. Than the spelling which occurs in early plays and tracts, more especially perhaps those of a popular character, nothing can well be more capricious and uncouth; but the phraseology and terms are on all accounts of value. Not a word, therefore, nor even part of a word, has suffered alteration; and wherever there was a doubt, as there might be in preparing for the press once more such an extensive collection of pieces, it was thought better to err on the side of caution. Weever, the author of "Funeral Monuments," retained with scrupulous exactitude the ancient spelling _ipsissimis verbis_; and such a plan might be advisable and convenient with sepulchral inscriptions or records; but in the matter before us what an editor had principally, if not almost exclusively, to consider, was the preservation in their fullest integrity of the language of the time and the sense of the playwright.

The first and second editions of Dodsley's collection appear, notwithstanding what is asserted to the contrary in Reed's preface, to have been superintended with no very high degree of care, and the late Mr Dyce, indeed, used to observe that the same criticism was applicable to the edition of 1825. But the latter, with the fullest admission of its defects, is certainly marked by great improvements on its predecessors in more than one way. The labours of Hawkins[3] and Dilke[4] reflect considerable honour upon those gentlemen.

It is almost superfluous to observe that the preceding editions, the last and best not excepted, present a very large number of statements, opinions, and readings, which more recent and more exact information has shown to be erroneous. All these mistakes have been carefully rectified, wherever the knowledge and experience of the editor enabled him to detect them.[5]

A certain number of corruptions and obscurities remain, which it passed the editor's ingenuity to eradicate or clear away. The printed remains of our early drama have come down to us, for the most part, in a sadly mutilated state, and the attempt to amend and restore the text to its original purity will, it may be safely affirmed, never succeed more than to a very imperfect extent. Even the late Mr Dyce's revised edition of Shakespeare, 1868, abounds with misprints and other distortions of the writer's sense; and we must abandon in some cases the hope of ever arriving at the true readings. So it is with the miscellaneous assemblage of dramatic productions here brought together. A great deal has been done by a succession of editors to reduce the errors of the printer or copyist to a minimum; but, after all, there are places where it would require the assistance of the Sphinx to supply a chasm, or rectify a palpable mistake.

The work, in its present state, should assuredly have some degree of interest and worth; for it offers in one collected body the best specimens of dramatic literature which the English language affords, castigated and enriched by some of our best commentators and critics.

In these volumes, as now rearranged, it is trusted that very few uncollected plays of real importance will be found wanting; but as an enterprise of this kind can never amount to more than a _selection_, as it purports to be, it appeared judicious, in making the choice, to give the preference to such pieces as either illustrated the manners of the period, or marked the gradual development of the dramatic art.

The only basis on which the present editor can rest, so far as he is aware, the slightest claim to credit is the attention which he has bestowed on the rearrangement of the collection as it now stands; the conscientious and vigilant supervision of the whole matter here brought together--prefaces, texts, and notes--and the correction of errors on the part of his predecessors, occasioned by a variety of causes. In carrying out even this unambitious programme, there was a fair share of labour and difficulty, and, of course, it has involved the addition of a new crop of notes scattered up and down the series, as well as the occasional displacement of certain illustrative remarks founded on wrong _data_.

The Notes without any initial attached to them in the following pages, may be presumed to be from the pen of Isaac Reed, with the exception of a limited number, which were written by Dodsley himself, and which are not easily mistakable. The matter signed _S_. appears to have been communicated to Reed by George Steevens. The _C_. notes are Mr Collier's, and _O.G_. stands for Octavius Gilchrist. For the notes which remain, and which have been enclosed between brackets, the present editor alone is answerable.

It is proposed to introduce in the concluding volume two indexes, one of names and another of subjects, as the want of a ready means of reference to passages, phrases, and characters in these old plays, is one which the editor himself has so strongly felt as to make him desirous of removing it, so far as possible, for his own sake and that of the public.

The long table of _errata_ to the former edition has, of course, been attended to, and the _additional notes_ there placed at the end have been arranged under their respective heads.

W.C.H. KENSINGTON, _1st November_ 1873.

DEDICATION.

TO SIR CLEMENT COTTEREL DORMER, KT.

Sir,--If there be anything in this collection worthy of being preserved, it is to you the public is indebted for the benefit. Your obliging readiness to communicate the stores of which you were possessed, encouraged me to undertake the design, which otherwise I should have despaired of prosecuting with success. Under the sanction of your name, therefore, I beg leave to shelter the remains of these old dramatic writers, which, but for your generosity had fallen with their authors into utter oblivion. To your candour I submit the pains I have taken to give a tolerably correct edition of them, and am with great respect, Sir, your most obliged and obedient humble servant,

R. DODSLEY.[6]

INTERLUDE OF THE FOUR ELEMENTS.

_A new interlude and a merry of the nature of the Four Elements, declaring many proper points of philosophy natural, and of divers strange lands, and of divers strange effects and causes; which interlude, if the whole matter be played, will contain the space of an hour and a half; but, if ye list, ye may leave out much of the sad matter, as the Messenger's part, and some of Nature's part, and some of Experience's part, and yet the matter will depend conveniently, and then it will not be past three-quarters of an hour of length. London: John Rastell_.

1519. 8vo, black letter.

MR HALLIWELL'S PREFACE TO THE FORMER EDITION.[7]

The curious interlude reprinted in the following pages is one of the earliest moral plays in the English language known to exist, and it possesses an interest beyond its connection with the history of the stage, as being the only dramatic piece extant in which science is attempted to be made popular through the medium of theatrical representation. Only one copy of it is known to exist, but that is unfortunately imperfect, a sheet in the middle and concluding leaves being lost, so that we are left without the means of giving the reader much information respecting it. On the other hand, while this circumstance must excuse the brevity of these preliminary observations, its singularity and extreme rarity offered additional inducements for selecting it for republication.

An allusion to the discovery of the West Indies and America, "within this twenty year," would appear to ascertain the date of the composition of the play; but I suspect from internal evidence, the form and manner of its dialogue, that it was not written so early as some authors have supposed, Dr Dibdin assigning 1510 to the period of its appearance.[8] The same writer considers it to be a production of Rastell's press; and it has been stated, on somewhat doubtful authority, that the printer was also the author; a combination that has seldom effected much service, and has too frequently deteriorated the efforts of both. Be this as it may, no great talent is displayed in the construction of the following piece, the value of which must be allowed to consist in the curious illustration it affords of the phraseology and popular scientific knowledge of the day, and its curiosity as a link in the history of the drama, rather than in any intrinsic merits of its own.

It is only necessary to add that the play was rather carelessly printed, and a few very obvious errors have been corrected. With these exceptions, the following pages present a faithful copy of the original, a very small octavo volume in black letter.[9]

INTERLUDE OF THE FOUR ELEMENTS.

THE NAMES OF THE PLAYERS.

_Here follow the names of the players_.

The Messenger, Nature Natura[t]e, Humanity, Studious Desire, Sensual Appetite, the Taverner, Experience, Ignorance; also, if ye list, ye may bring in a Disguising.

_Here follow divers matters which be in this interlude contained_.

Of the situation of the four elements, that is to say, the earth, the water, the air, and fire, and of their qualities and properties, and of the generation and corruption of things made of the commixtion of them.

Of certain conclusions proving that the earth must needs be round, and that it hangeth in the midst of the firmament, and that it is in circumference above 21,000 miles.

Of certain conclusions proving that the sea lieth round upon the earth.

Of certain points of cosmography, as how and where the sea covereth the earth, and of divers strange regions and lands, and which way they lie; and of the new-found lands, and the manner of the people.

Of the generation and cause of stone and metal, and of plants and herbs.

Of the generation and cause of well-springs and rivers; and of the cause of hot fumes that come out of the earth; and of the cause of the baths of water in the earth, which be perpetually hot.

Of the cause of the ebb and flood of the sea.

Of the cause of rain, snow, and hail.

Of the cause of the winds and thunder.

Of the cause of the lightning, of blazing stars, and flames flying in the air.

THE MESSENGER.

Th' abundant grace of the power divine, Which doth illumine the world environ, Preserve this audience, and cause them to incline To charity, this is my petition; For by your patience and supportation A little interlude, late made and prepared, Before your presence here shall be declared, Which of a few conclusions is contrived, And points of philosophy natural. But though the matter be not so well declared, As a great clerk could do, nor so substantial, Yet the author hereof requireth you all, Though he be ignorant, and can little skill, To regard his only intent and good-will; Which in his mind hath ofttimes pondered, What number of books in our tongue maternal Of toys and trifles be made and imprinted, And few of them of matter substantial; For though many make books, yet unneth ye shall In our English tongue find any works Of cunning, that is regarded by clerks. The Greeks, the Romans, with many other mo, In their mother tongue wrote warks excellent. Then if clerks in this realm would take pain so, Considering that our tongue is now sufficient To expound any hard sentence evident, They might, if they would, in our English tongue Write works of gravity sometime among; For divers pregnant wits be in this land, As well of noble men as of mean estate, Which nothing but English can understand. Then if cunning Latin books were translate Into English, well correct and approbate, All subtle science in English might be learned, As well as other people in their own tongues did. But now so it is, that in our English tongue Many one there is, that can but read and write, For his pleasure will oft presume among New books to compile and ballads to indite, Some of love or other matter not worth a mite; Some to obtain favour will flatter and glose, Some write curious terms nothing to purpose. Thus every man after his fantasy Will write his conceit, be it never so rude, Be it virtuous, vicious, wisdom or folly; Wherefore to my purpose thus I conclude, Why should not then the author of this interlude Utter his own fantasy and conceit also, As well as divers other nowadays do? For wisdom and folly is as it is taken, For that the one calleth wisdom, another calleth folly, Yet among most folk that man is holden Most wise, which to be rich studieth only; But he that for a commonwealth busily Studieth and laboureth, and liveth by God's law, Except he wax rich, men count him but a daw![10] So he that is rich is ever honoured, Although he have got it never so falsely. The poor, being never so wise, is reproved. This is the opinion most commonly Thoroughout the world, and yet no reason why; Therefore in my mind, when that all such daws Have babbled what they can, no force of two straws! For every man in reason thus ought to do, To labour for his own necessary living, And then for the wealth of his neighbour also; But what devilish mind have they which, musing And labouring all their lives, do no other thing But bring riches to their own possession, Nothing regarding their neighbour's destruction; Yet all the riches in the world that is Riseth of the ground by God's sending, And by the labour of poor men's hands; And though thou, rich man, have thereof the keeping, Yet is not this riches of thy getting, Nor oughtest not in reason to be praised the more, For by other men's labour it is got before. A great-witted man may soon be enriched, That laboureth and studieth for riches only; But how shall his conscience then be discharged? For all clerks affirm that that man precisely, Which studieth for his own wealth principally, Of God shall deserve but little reward, Except he the commonwealth somewhat regard; So they say that that man occupied is For a commonwealth, which is ever labouring To relieve poor people with temporal goods, And that it is a common good act to bring People from vice, and to use good living. Likewise for a commonwealth occupied is he, That bringeth them to knowledge that ignorant be; But man to know God is a difficulty, Except by a mean he himself inure, Which is to know God's creatures that be: As first them that be of the grossest nature, And then to know them that be more pure; And so, by little and little ascending, To know God's creatures and marvellous working. And this wise man at the last shall come to The knowledge of God and His high majesty, And so to learn to do his duty, and also To deserve of His goodness partner to be. Wherefore in this work declared shall ye see, First of the elements the situation, And of their effects the cause and generation; And though some men think this matter too high, And not meet for an audience unlearned, Methink for man nothing more necessary Than this to know, though it be not used, Nor a matter more low cannot be argued; For though the elements God's creatures be, Yet they be most gross and lowest in degree. How dare men presume to be called clerks, Disputing of high creatures celestial, As things invisible and God's high warks, And know not these visible things inferial? So they would know high things, and know nothing at all: Of the earth here whereon they daily be, Neither the nature, form, nor quantity. Wherefore it seemeth nothing convenient A man to study, and his time to bestow, First for the knowledge of high things excellent, And of light matters beneath nothing to know, As of these four elements here below, Whose effects daily appear here at eye, Such things to know first were most meet study; Which matter before your presence shortly In this interlude here shall be declared Without great eloquence in rhyme rudely, Because the compiler is but small learned. This work with rhetoric is not adorned, For perhaps in this matter much eloquence Should make it tedious or hurt the sentence. But because some folk be little disposed To sadness, but more to mirth and sport, This philosophical work is mixed With merry conceits, to give men comfort, And occasion to cause them to resort To hear this matter, whereto if they take heed, Some learning to them thereof may proceed. But they that shall now this matter declare Openly here unto this audience, Behold, I pray you, see where they are. The players begin to appear in presence; I see well it is time for me go hence, And so I will do; therefore now shortly To God I commit all this whole company.

_Hic intrat_ NATURA NATURATA, HUMANITY, _and_ STUDIOUS DESIRE, _portans figuram_.

NATURA NATURATA.

The high, mighty, most excellent of all, The Fountain of goodness, virtue, and cunning, Which is eterne[11] of power most potential, The Perfection and First Cause of everything, I mean that only high Nature naturing. Lo, He by His goodness hath ordained and created Me here His minister, called Nature Naturate. Wherefore I am the very naturate nature, The immediate minister for the preservation Of everything in His kind to endure, And cause of generation and corruption Of that thing that is brought to destruction. Another thing still I bring forth again, Thus wondersly I work, and never in vain. The great world behold, lo, divided wondersly Into two regions, whereof one I call The ethereal region with the heavens high, Containing the planets, stars, and spheres all; The lower region, called the elemental, Containing these four elements below, The fire, the air, the water, and earth also. But yet the elements and other bodies all Beneath take their effects and operations Of the bodies in the region ethereal. By their influence and constellations, They cause here corruptions and generations; For if the movings above should once cease, Beneath should be neither increase nor decrease. These elements of themselves so single be Unto divers forms cannot be divided, Yet they commix together daily, you see, Whereof divers kinds of things be engendered, Which things eftsones, when they be corrupted, Each element I reduce to his first estate, So that nothing can be utterly annihilate; For though the form and fashion of anything That is a corporal body be destroyed, Yet every matter remaineth in his being, Whereof it was first made and formed; For corruption of a body commixed Is but the resolution by time and space Of every element to his own place. For who that will take any body corporal, And do what he can it to destroy, To break it or grind it into powder small, To wash, to drown, to bren it, or to dry, Yet the air and fire thereof naturally To their own proper places will ascend, The water to the water, the earth to the earth tend; For if heat or moisture of anything certain By fire or by water be consumed, Yet earth or ashes on earth will remain, So the elements can never be destroyed. For essentially there is now at this tide As much fire, air, water, earth, as was Ever before this time, neither more nor less; Wherefore thou, man--now I speak to thee-- Remember that thou art compound and create Of these elements, as other creatures be, Yet they have not all like noble estate, For plants and herbs grow and be insensate. Brute beasts have memory and their wits five, But thou hast all those and soul intellective; So by reason of thine understanding, Thou hast dominion of other beasts all, And naturally thou shouldst desire cunning To know strange effects and causes natural; For he that studieth for the life bestial,[12] As voluptuous pleasure and bodily rest, I account him never better than a beast.

HUMANITY.

O excellent prince, and great lord Nature, I am thine own child and formed instrument! I beseech thy grace, take me to thy cure, And teach me such science thou thinkest expedient.

NATURE.

Then sith thou art so humble and benevolent, That thing that is meet for thy capacity And good for thy knowledge I shall instruct thee. First of all, thou must consider and see These elements, which do each other penetrate, And by continual alteration they be Of themselves daily corrupted and generate. The earth as a point or centre is situate In the midst of the world, with the water joined, With the air and fire round, and whole environed. The earth of itself is ponderous and heavy, Cold and dry of his own nature proper; Some part lieth dry continually, And part thereof covered over with water, Some with the salt sea, some with fresh river, Which earth and the water together withal So joined make a round figure spherical; So the water which is cold and moist is found In and upon the earth filling the hollowness, In divers parts, lying with the earth round, Yet the hills and mountains of the earth excess Take nothing of it away the roundness, In comparison because they be so small, No more than the pricks do that be on a gall. The air which is hot and moist also, And the fire which is ever hot and dry, About the earth and water jointly they go, And compass them everywhere orbicularly, As the white about the yoke of an egg doth lie. But the air in the lower part most remaineth; The fire naturally to the higher tendeth. The ethereal region which containeth The stars and planets, and every sphere, About the elements daily moveth, And covereth them round about everywhere. Every star and sphere in strange manner Upon his own poles moveth diversely, Which now to declare were too long to tarry. The fire and the air of their natures be light, Therefore they move by natural providence; The water, because it is ponderous in weight, Moveth not naturally, but by violence Of the stars and planets, by whose influence The sea is compelled to ebb and flow daily, And fresh waters to spring continually. And though that the water be gross and heavy, Yet nothing so gross as the earth, I wiss; Therefore by heat it is vapoured up lightly, And in the air maketh clouds and mists; But as soon as ever that it grossly is Gathered together, it descendeth again, And causeth upon the earth hail, snow, and rain. The earth, because of his ponderosity, Avoideth equally the movings great Of all extremities and spheres that be, And tendeth to the place that is most quiet; So in the midst of all the spheres is set Foremost object from all manner moving, Where naturally he resteth and moveth nothing. Mark well now, how I have thee showed and told Of every element the very situation And quality, wherefore this figure behold For a more manifest demonstration. And because thou shouldst not put to oblivion My doctrine, this man, called Studious Desire, With thee shall have continual habitation, Thee still to exhort more science to acquire. For the more that thou desirest to know anything, Therein thou seemest the more a man to be; For that man that desireth no manner cunning, All that while no better than a beast is he. Why been the eyes made, but only to see, The legs, to bear the body of a creature? So everything is made to do his nature; So likewise reason, wit, and understanding, Is given to thee, man, for that thou shouldst indeed Know thy Maker and cause of thine own being, And what the world is, and whereof thou dost proceed; Wherefore, it behoveth thee of very need The cause of things first for to learn, And then to know and laud the high God eterne.

HUMANITY.

O glorious Lord and Prince most pleasant! Greatly am I now holden unto thee, So to illumine my mind, that was ignorant, With such noble doctrine as thou hast here shown me; Wherefore I promise, upon my fidelity, My diligence to do to keep in memory, And thee for to honour still perpetually.

STUDIOUS DESIRE.

And sith it hath pleased thy grace to admit Me upon this man to give attendance, With thy doctrine here shown I shall quicken his wit, And daily put him in remembrance; His courage and desire I shall also enhance, So that his felicity shall be most of all To study and to search for causes natural.

NATURE.

Well, then, for a season I will depart, Leaving you together here both twain; What I have shown, man, print well in thine heart,[13] And mark well this figure that here shall remain, Whereby thou mayest perceive many things more plain Concerning the matter I spoke of before; And when that I shall resort here again, Of high points of cunning I shall show thee more.

STUDIOUS DESIRE.

Now, Humanity, call to your memory The cunning points that Nature hath declared; And though he has shown divers points and many Of the elements so wondersly[14] formed Yet many other causes there are would be learned, As to know the generation of things all Here in the earth, how they be engendered, As herbs, plants, well-springs, stone, and metal.

HUMANITY.

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.

HU. Now would to God I had that man now here
For the contemplation of my mind!
STU. If ye will, I shall for him inquire,
And bring him hither, if I can him find.
HU. Then might I say ye were to me right kind.
STU. I shall assay, by God that me dear bought,
For cunning is the thing that would be sought.
SEN. Well hit, quoth Hykman, when that he smote
His wife on the buttocks with a beer-pot.
Aha! now good even, fool, good even!
It is even thee, knave, that I mean.
Hast thou done thy babbling?
STU. Yea, peradventure, what then?
SEN. Then hold down thy head like a pretty man, and take my blessing.
Benedicite! I grant to thee this pardon,
And give thee absolution
For thy sooth saws; stand up, Jackdaw!
I beshrew thy father's son,
Make room, sirs, and let us be merry,
With huffa gallant, sing tirl on the berry,
And let the wide world wind![15]
Sing, frisky jolly, with hey troly lolly,
For I see well it is but a folly
For to have a sad mind:
For rather than I would use such folly,
To pray, to study, or be pope holy,
I had as lief be dead.
By Gog's body, I tell you true!
I speak as I think now, else I beshrew
Even my next fellow's head!
Master Humanity, sir, by your leave,
I were right loth you to grieve,
Though I do him despise;
For if ye knew him as well as I,
Ye would not use his company,
Nor love him in no wise.
HU. Sir, he looketh like an honest man,
Therefore I marvel that ye can
This wise him deprave.
SEN. Though he look never so well,
I promise you he hath a shrewd smell.
HU. Why so? I pray you tell.
SEN. For he savoureth like a knave.
STU. Hold your peace, sir, ye mistake me!
What, I trow, that ye would make me
Like to one of your kin.
SEN. Hark, sirs, hear ye not how boldly
He calleth me knave again by policy?
The devil pull off his skin!
I would he were hanged by the throat,
For by the mass I love him not:
We two can never agree;
I am content, sir, with you to tarry,
And I am for you so necessary,
Ye cannot live without me.
HU. Why, sir, I say, what man be ye?
SEN. I am called Sensual Appetite,
All creatures in me delight;
I comfort the wits five,
The tasting, smelling, and hearing;
I refresh the sight and feeling
To all creatures alive.
For when the body waxeth hungry
For lack of food, or else thirsty,
Then with drinks pleasant
I restore him out of pain,
And oft refresh nature again
With delicate viand.
With pleasant sound of harmony
The hearing alway I satisfy,
I dare this well report;
The smelling with sweet odour,
And the sight with pleasant figure
And colours, I comfort;
The feeling, that is so pleasant,
Of every member, foot, or hand,
What pleasure therein can be
By the touching of soft and hard,
Of hot or cold, nought in regard,
Except it come by me.
HU. Then I cannot see the contrary,
But ye are for me full necessary,
And right convenient.
STU. Yea, sir, beware yet what ye do,
For if you forsake my company so,
Lord Nature will not be content.
Of him ye shall never learn good thing,
Nother virtue nor no other cunning,
This dare I well say.
SEN. Marry, avaunt, knave! I thee defy!
Did Nature forbid him my company?
What sayest thou thereto? Speak openly.
HU. As for that I know well nay.
SEN. No, by God! I am right sure;
For he knoweth well no creature
Without me can live one day.
HU. Sir, I pray you be content,
It is not utterly mine intent
Your company to exile;
But only to have communication,
And a pastime of recreation
With this man for a while.
STU. Well, for your pleasure I will depart.
HU. Now go, knave, go! I beshrew thy heart!
The devil send thee forward!
SEN. Now, by my troth, I marvel greatly,
That ever ye would use the company
So mich of such a knave;
For if ye do no nother thing,
But ever study and to be musing,
As he would have you, it will you bring
At the last unto your grave!
Ye should ever study principal
For to comfort your life natural,
With meats and drinks delicate
And other pastimes and pleasures among,
Dancing, laughing, or pleasant song;
This is meet for your estate.
HU. Because ye say so, I you promise,
That I have mused and studied such wise,
Me thinketh my wits weary;
My nature desireth some refreshing,
And also I have been so long fasting,
That I am somewhat hungry.
SEN. Well, then, will ye go with me
To a tavern, where ye shall see
Good pastance, and at your liberty
Have whatsoever you will?
HU. I am content so for to do,
If that ye will not fro me go,
But keep me company still.
SEN. Company, quotha? then that I shall point-device,
And also do you good and true service,
And thereto I plight my troth!
And if that I ever forsake you,
I pray God the devil take you!
HU. Marry, I thank you for that oath!
SEN. A mischief on it! my tongue, lo!
Will trip sometime, whatsoever I do;
But ye wot that I mean well.
HU. Yea, no force! let this matter pass;
But saidst even now thou knewest, where was
A good tavern to make solace?
Where is that? I pray thee tell.
SEN. Marry, at the door even hereby;
If we call anything on high,
The taverner will answer.
HU. I pray thee, then, call for him now.
SEN. Marry, I will! How, taverner, how!
Why dost thou not appear?

TAVERNER.

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

SEN. Then I beshrew thee, page, of thine age!
Come hither, knave, for thine advantage;
Why makest thou it so tow?
TA. For mine advantage, marry, then I come.
Beware, sirs, ho! let me have room!
Lo, here I am! what sayest thou?
SEN. Marry, thus: here is a gentleman, I say,
That neither ate nor drank this day;
Therefore tell me, I thee pray,
If thou have any good wine.
TA. Ye shall have Spanish wine and Gascon,
Rose colour, white, claret, rampion,
Tyre, Capric, and Malvoisin,
Sack, raspice, Alicant, rumney,
Greek, ipocras, new-made clary,
Such as ye never had;
For if ye drink a draught or two,
It will make you, ere ye thence go,
By Gog's body, stark mad!
SEN. I wot thou art not without good wine;
But here is a gentleman hath list to dine,
Canst thou get him any good meat?
TA. What meat, master, would ye have?
HU. I care not, so God me save,
So that it be wholesome to eat:
I would we had a good stewed capon.
SEN. As for capons ye can get none,
The king's taker took up each one;
I wot well there is none to get.
TA. Though all capons be gone, what then?
Yet I can get you a stewed hen,
That is ready dight.
HU. If she be fat, it will do well.
TA. Fat or lean, I cannot tell,
But as for this I wot well
She lay at the stews all night.
HU. Thou art a mad guest, by this light!
SEN. Yea, sir, it is a fellow that never fails:
But canst get my master a dish of quails,
Small birds, swallows, or wagtails,
They be light of digestion?
TA. Light of digestion! for what reason?
SEN. For physic putteth this reason thereto,
Because those birds fly to and fro,
And be continual moving.
TA. Then know I a lighter meat than that.
HU. I pray thee, tell me what?
TA. If ye will needs know at short and long,
It is even a woman's tongue,
For that is ever stirring![16]
HU. Sir, I pray thee, let such fantasies be,
And come hither near, and hark to me,
And do after my bidding.
Go, purvey us a dinner even of the most
Of all manner of dishes both sod and roast,
That thou canst get: spare for no cost,
If thou make three course.
TA. Then ye get neither goose nor swan,
But a dish of dregs, a dish of bran,
A dish of draff, and I trow then
Ye cannot get three worse!
HU. What, whoreson! wouldst thou purvey
Bran, draff, and stinking dregs, I say;
I hold thee mad, I trow.
TA. Gog's passion! said ye not thus,
That I should purvey you three coarse dishes,
And these be coarse enou'!
HU. Three coarse dishes, quotha?
What, mad fool! thou mistakest me clean!
I see well thou wott'st not what I mean,
And understandest amiss;
I mean this wise, I would have thee
To purvey meat so great plenty,
That thou shouldst of necessity
Serve them at three courses.
That is to understand, at one word,
Thou shouldst bring them unto the board
At three several times.
TA. What then, I see well ye will make a feast.
HU. Yea, by the rood! even with the greatest.
SEN. By my troth, then do your best
Even after my mind;
But ye must have more company.
HU. That is true, and so would I gladly,
If I knew any to find.
SEN. Why, will ye follow my counsel?
HU. Yea.
SEN. Then we will have little Nell,
A proper wench, she danceth well,
And Jane with the black lace;
We will have bouncing Bess also,
And two or three proper wenches mo.
Right fair and smoother of face.
HU. Now be it so! thou art _sans_ peer.
TA. Then I perceive ye will make good cheer.
HU. Why, what should I else do?
TA. If ye think so best, then will I
Go before, and make all things ready
Again ye come thereto.
HU. Marry, I pray thee, do so.
TA. Then, farewell, sirs; for I am gone.
HU. And we shall follow thee anon
Without any tarrying.
SEN. Then it is best, sir, ye make haste,
For ye shall spend here but time in waste,
And do no nother thing.
HU. If ye will, let us go by and by.
SEN. I pray you be it, for I am ready,
No man better willing.

_Exeat Sen. et Hu. Intrat Experiens et Stu_.