Chapter II: Part 2

Now, cousin Experience, as I may say,
Ye are right welcome to this country
Without any feigning.
EX. Sir, I thank you thereof heartily,
And I am as glad of your company
As any man living.
STU. Sir, I understand that ye have been
In many a strange country,
And have had great facility
Strange causes to seek and find.
EX. Right far, sir, I have ridden and gone,
And seen strange things many one,
In Africa, Europe, and India;
Both east and west I have been far,
North also, and seen the south star
Both by sea and land,
And been in sundry nations,
With people of divers conditions,
Marvellous to understand.
STU. Sir, if a man have such courage,
Or devotion in pilgrimage,
Jerusalem unto
For to account the next way,
How many miles is it, I you pray,
From hence thither to go?
EX. Sir, as for all such questions,
Of towns to know the situation,
How far they be asunder,
And other points of cosmography,
Ye shall never learn them more surely
Than by that figure yonder;
For who that figure did first devise,
It seemeth well he was wise,
And perfect in this science;
For both the sea and land also
Lie true and just as they should do,
I know by experience.
STU. Who, think you, brought here this figure?
EX. I wot not.
STU. Certes, Lord Nature,
Himself not long agone,
Which was here personally
Declaring high philosophy,
And laft this figure purposely
For Humanity's instruction.
EX. Doubtless, right nobly done.
STU. Sir, this realm you know is called England,
Sometimes Britain, I understand;
Therefore, I pray you, point with your hand
In what place it should lie.
EX. Sir, this is England lying here,
And that is Scotland that joineth him near,
Compassed about everywhere
With the ocean sea around;
And next from them westwardly,
Here by himself alone, doth lie
Ireland, that wholesome ground.
Here then is the narrow sea,
To Calais and Boulogne the next way,
And Flanders in this part;
Here lieth France next him joining,
And Spain southward from them standing,
And Portugal in this quarter.
This country is called Italy,
Behold where Rome in the midst doth lie,
And Naples here beyond;
And this little sea that here is
Is called the Gulf of Venice,
And here Venice doth stand.
As for Almaine lieth this way;
Here lieth Denmark and Norway;
And northward on this side
There lieth Iceland where men doth fish,
But beyond that so cold it is,
No man may there abide.
This sea is called the Great Ocean,
So great it is that never man
Could tell it, since the world began,
Till now, within this twenty years,
Westward be found new lands,
That we never heard tell of before this
By writing nor other means,
Yet many now have been there;
And that country is so large of room,
Much lenger than all Christendom,
Without fable or guile;
For divers mariners had it tried,
And sailed straight by the coast side
Above five thousand mile!
But what commodities be within,
No man can tell nor well imagine;
But yet not long ago
Some men of this country went,
By the king's noble consent,
It for to search to that intent,
And could not be brought thereto;
But they that were th' adventurers[17]
Have cause to curse their mariners,
False of promise and dissemblers,
That falsely them betrayed,
Which would take no pains to sail farther
Than their own list and pleasure;
Wherefore that voyage and divers other
Such caitiffs have destroyed.
Oh, what a thing had be then,
If that they that be Englishmen
Might have been the first of all
That there should have take possession,
And made first building and habitation,
A memory perpetual!
And also what an honourable thing,
Both to the realm and to the king,
To have had his dominion extending
There into so far a ground,
Which the noble king of late memory,
The most wise prince the seventh Herry,
Caused first for to be found.
And what a great meritorious deed
It were to have the people instructed
To live more virtuously,
And to learn to know of men the manner,
And also to know God their Maker,
Which as yet live all beastly;
For they nother know God nor the devil,
Nor never heard tell of heaven nor hell,
Writing nor other scripture;
But yet, in the stead of God Almighty,
They honour the sun for his great light,
For that doth them great pleasure;
Building nor house they have none at all,
But woods, cots, and caves small,
No marvel though it be so,
For they use no manner of iron,
Neither in tool nor other weapon,
That should help them thereto:
Copper they have, which is found
In divers places above the ground,
Yet they dig not therefore;
For, as I said, they have none iron,
Whereby they should in the earth mine,
To search for any wore:
Great abundance of woods there be,
Most part fir and pine-apple tree,
Great riches might come thereby,
Both pitch and tar, and soap ashes,
As they make in the east lands,
By brenning thereof only.
Fish they have so great plenty,
That in havens take and slain they be
With staves, withouten fail.
Now Frenchmen and other have found the trade,
That yearly of fish there they lade
Above a hundred sail;
But in the south part of that country
The people there go naked alway,
The land is of so great heat:
And in the north part all the clothes
That they wear is but beasts' skins,
They have no nother fete;
But how the people first began
In that country, or whence they came,
For clerks it is a question.
Other things mo I have in store,
That I could tell thereof, but now no more
Till another season.
STU. Then at your pleasure show some other thing;
It liketh me so well your communing,
Ye cannot talk amiss.
EX. Then will I turn again to my matter
Of cosmography, where I was ere:
Behold, take heed to this;
Lo, eastward, beyond the great ocean,
Here entereth the sea called Mediterranean,
Of two thousand miles of length:
The Soldan's country lieth hereby,
The great Turk on the north side doth lie,
A man of marvellous strength.
This said north part is called Europa,
And this south part called Africa,
This east part is called India;
But this new lands found lately
Been called America, because only
Americus did first them find.
Lo, Jerusalem lieth in this country,
And this beyond is the Red Sea,
That Moses maketh of mention;
This quarter is India Minor,
And this quarter India Major,
The land of Prester John:
But northward this way, as ye see,
Many other strange regions there be,
And people that we not know.
But eastward on the sea side
A prince there is that ruleth wide,
Called the Can of Catowe.
And this is called the great east sea,
Which goeth all along this way
Towards the new lands again;
But whether that sea go thither directly,
Or if any wilderness between them do lie,
No man knoweth for certain:
But these new lands, by all cosmography,
From the Can of Catowe's land cannot lie
Little past a thousand miles:
But from those new lands men may sail plain
Eastward, and come to England again,
Where we began erewhile.
Lo, all this part of the earth, which I
Have here descrived openly,
The north part we do it call;
But the south part on the other side
Is as large as this full, and as wide,
Which we know nothing at all,
Nor whether the most part be land or sea,
Nor whether the people that there be
Be bestial or cunning;
Nor whether they know God or no,
Nor how they believe, nor what they do,
Of this we know nothing.
Lo, is not this a thing wonderful?
How that-- [_Et subito Studious Desire dicat_.
STU. Peace, sir, no more of this matter!
Behold where Humanity cometh here.
SEN. How say you, Master Humanity?
I pray you have ye not be merry,
And had good recreation?
HU. Yes, I thank thee thereof every deal,
For we have fared marvellously well,
And had good communication.
TA. What, how, master! where be ye now?
SEN. What! I shrew thee! what haste hast thou,
That thou speakest so high?
TA. So high, quotha? I trow ye be mad, by St Gile!
For did ye not erewhile
Make pointment openly.
To come again all to supper,
There as ye were to-day at dinner?
And yet ye pointed not plain,
What meat that ye will have dressed,
Nor what delicacies ye love best.
Methink you far oversayne.
HU. As for mine own part I care not;
Dress what meat thou lovest, spare not
Whatsoever thou dost best think.
TA. Now, if ye put it to my liberty,
Of all meats in the world that be,
By this light, I love best drink.[18]
SEN. It seemeth by thy face so to do,
But my master will have meat also,
Whatsoever it cost.
TA. By God, sir, then ye must tell what.
HU. At thy discretion: I force not,
Whether it be sodden or roast.
TA. Well, sir, then care not! let me alone;
Ye shall see that all things shall be done,
And ordained well and fine.
HU. So I require thee heartily,
And in any wise specially,
Let us have a cup of new wine.
TA. Ye shall have wine as new as can be,
For I may tell you in privity,
It was brewed but yesternight.
HU. But that is nothing for my delight.
TA. But then I have for your appetite
A cup of wine of old claret;
There is no better, by this light!
HU. Well, I trust thee well enou'.
TA. But one thing, if it please you now--
Ye see well I take much pain for you,
I trust ye will see to me.
HU. Yea, I promise thee, get thee hence,
And in this matter do thy diligence,
And I shall well reward thee.
SEN. Because thou lookest for a reward,
One thing for thee I have prepared,
That here I shall thee give.
Thou shalt have a knave's skin,
For to put thy body therein,
For term of thy life!
TA. Now, gramercy, my gentle brother;
And therefore thou shalt have another,
For voiding of strife.
SEN. Now, farewell, gentle John!
TA. Then farewell, fool, for I am gone!
SEN. Abide, turn once again! hark what I say!
Yet there is another thing
Would do well at our master's washing.
HU. What thing is that, I thee pray?
SEN. Marry thus, canst thou tell us yet,
Where is any rose water to get?
TA. Yea, that I can well purvey,
As good as ever you put to your nose,
For there is a false wench called Rose
Distilleth a quart every day.
SEN. By God! I would a pint of that
Were poured even upon thy pate
Before all this presence.
TA. Yet I had liever she and I
Were both together secretly
In some corner in the spence;
For, by God, it is a pretty girl!
It is a world[19] to see her whirl,
Dancing in a round;
O Lord God! how she will trip!
She will bounce it, she will whip,
Yea, clean above the ground!
HU. Well, let all such matters pass, I say,
And get thee hence, and go thy way
About this other matter.
TA. Then I go straight; lo! fare ye well.
SEN. But look yet thou remember every deal
That I spake of full ere.
TA. Yes, I warrant you, do not fear.
[_Exit Taverner_.
HU. God's Lord! seest not who is here now?
What, Studious Desire! what news with you?
STU. Ye shall know, sir, ere I go.
SEN. What, art thou here? I see well, I,
The mo knaves the worse company.
STU. Thy lewd conditions thou dost still occupy,
As thou art wont to do.
HU. But, I say, who is this here in presence?
STU. Sir, this is the man called Experience,
That I spake of before.
HU. Experience! why, is this he?
Sir, ye are right welcome unto me
And shall be evermore!
EX. Sir, I thank you thereof heartily,
But I assure you faithfully
I have small courage here to tarry,
As long as this man is here.
SEN. Why, whoreson! what ailest at me?
EX. For thou hast ever so lewd a property,
Science to despise, and yet thou art he
That nought canst nor nought wilt learn.
SEN. Marry, avaunt, knave! I make God avow,
I think myself as cunning as thou,
And that shall I prove shortly!
I shall put thee a question now; come near,
Let me see how well thou canst answer:
How spellest this word Tom Couper
In true orthography?
EX. Tom Couper, quotha? a wise question hardly!
SEN. Yea, I tell thee again yet--Tom Couper, how spellest it?
Lo! he hath forgotten, ye may see,
The first word of his _a b c_.
Hark, fool, hark, I will teach thee,
P.a--pa.--t.e.r--ter--do together Tom Couper.
Is not this a sore matter?
Lo! here you see him proved a fool!
He had more need to go to school,
Than to come hither to clatter.
STU. Certain, this is a solution
Meet for such a boy's question.
HU. Sensual Appetite, I pray thee
Let pass all trifles and vanity
For a while, it shall not long be,
And depart, I thee require;
For I would talk a word or two
With this man here, ere he hence go,
For to satisfy my desire.
SEN. Why, Gog's soul! will ye so shortly
Break pointment with yonder company,
Where you should come to supper?
I trust you will not break promise so.
HU. I care not greatly, if I do;
It is but a tavern matter.
SEN. Then will I go show them what you say.
HU. Spare not, if thou wilt go thy way,
For I will here tarry.
SEN. Then adieu for a while, I tell you plain,
But I promise you, when I come again,
I shall make yonder knaves twain
To repent and be sorry!
EX. Now I am full glad that he is gone!
STU. So am I, for good will he do none
To no man living.
But this is the man with whom ye shall,
I trust, be well content withal,
And glad of his coming;
For he hath expound cunningly
Divers points of cosmography,
In few words and short clause.
HU. So I understand he hath good science,
And that he hath by plain experience
Learned many a strange cause.
STU. Yea, sir, and I say for my part,
He is the cunningest man in that art
That ever I could find;
For ask what question ye will do,
How the earth is round, or other mo,
He will satisfy your mind.
EX. Why, what doubt have ye therein found?
Think ye the earth should not be round?
Or else how suppose ye?
HU. One way it is round, I must consent,
For this man proved it evident;
Toward the east and occident
It must needs round be.
EX. And likewise from the south to north.
HU. That point to prove were some thank worth.
EX. Yes, that I can well prove,[20]
For this ye know as well as I,
Ye see the North Star in the sky,
Mark well, ye shall unneth it spy,
That ever it doth remove.
But this I assure you, if you go
Northward an hundredth mile or two,
Ye shall think it riseth,
And how that it is near approached
The point over the top of your head,
Which is called your zenith.
Yet if ye go the other way,
Southward ten or twelve days' journey,
Ye shall then think anon
It descended, and come more nigh
The circle parting the earth and sky,
As ye look straight with your eye,
Which is called your horizon;
But ye may go southward so far,
That at the last that same star
Will seem so far down right,
Clear underneath your horizon,
That sight thereof can you have none,
The earth will stop your sight.
This proveth of necessity
That the earth must needs round be:
This conclusion doth it try.
HU. Now that is the properest conclusion
That ever I heard, for by reason
No man may it deny.
But, sir, if that a man sail far
Upon the sea, will then that star
Do there as on the ground?
EX. Yea, doubtless, sail northward, rise it will,
And sail southward, it falleth still,
And that proveth the sea round.
STU. So doth it in mine opinion;
But know you any other conclusion
To prove it round, save that alone?
EX. Yea, that I know right well,
As thus: mark well when the sea is clear,
That no storm nor wave thereon doth 'ppear,
This mariners can tell;
Then if a fire be made on night
Upon the shore, that giveth great light,
And a ship in the sea far,
They in the top the fire see shall,
And they on hatch nothing at all,
Yet they on hatches be near;
Also on the sea, where men be sailing
Far from land, they see nothing
But the water and the sky;
Yet when they draw the land more near,
Then the hill-tops begin to appear,
Still they near more high and high,
As though they were still growing fast
Out of the sea till, at last,
When they come the shore to,
They see the hill, top, foot, and all;
Which thing so could not befal,
But the sea lay round also.
HU. Methinketh your argument somewhat hard.
EX. Then ye shall have it more plainly declared,
If ye have great desire;
For here, lo, by mine instruments,
I can show the plain experiments.
HU. Thereto I you require.
EX. With all my heart it shall be done;
But for the first conclusion,
That I speak of the fire,
Be this the sea that is so round,
And this the fire upon the ground,
And this the ship that is here;
You know well that a man's sight
Can never be but in a line right.
HU. Just you say; that is clear.
EX. Mark well then; may not that man's eye.

[_Eight leaves are here wanting_.]

IGNORANCE. With arguing here their foolish [saws]
That is not worth three straws.
I love not this whoreson 'losophers,
Nor this great cunning extromers,
That tell how far it is to the stars;
I hate all manner cunning!
I would ye knew it, I am Ignorance!
A lord I am of greater puissance
Than the king of England or France,
Yea, the greatest lord living!
I have servants at my retinue,
That long to me, I assure you,
Herewith in England,
That with me, Ignorance, dwell still,
And term of life continue will,
Above five hundred thousand.
SEN. Gog's nails, I have paid some of them, I trow.
IGN. Why, man, what aileth thee so to blow?
SEN. For I was at a shrewd fray.
IGN. Hast thou any of them slain, then?
SEN. Yea, I have slain them every man,
Save them that ran away.
IGN. Why, is any of them scaped and gone?
SEN. Yea, by Gog's body, every one,
All that ever were there.
IGN. Why, then, they be not all slain.
SEN. No, but I have put some to pain,
For one whoreson there was, that turned again,
And straight I cut off his ear.
IGN. Then thou hast made him a cutpurse.
SEN. Yea, but yet I served another worse!
I smote off his leg by the hard arse,
As soon as I met him there.
IGN. By my troth, that was a mad deed!
Thou shouldst have smit off his head,
Then he should never have troubled thee more.
SEN. Tush! then I had been but mad,
For there was another man that had
Smit off his head before!
IGN. Then thou hast quit thee like a tall knight!
SEN. Yea, that I have, by this light!
But, I say, can you tell me right
Where became my master?
IGN. What, he that you call Humanity?
SEN. Yea.
IGN. I wot never, except he be
Hid here in some corner.
SEN. Gog's body! and true ye say,
For yonder, lo! behold, ye may
See where the mad fool doth lie.
IGN. Now, on my faith and truth,
It were even great alms
To smite his head from his body!
SEN. Nay, God forbid ye should do so,
For he is but an innocent, lo!
In manner of a fool.
For as soon as I speak to him again,
I shall turn his mind clean,
And make him follow my school.
IGN. Then bid him rise, let us hear him speak.
SEN. Now, rise up, Master Huddypeke,
Your tail toteth out behind!
Fear not, man, stand up by and by;
I warrant you rise up boldly!
Here is none but is your friend.
HU. I cry you mercy, master dear!
IGN. Why, what is cause thou hidest thee here?
HU. For I was almost for fear,
Even clean out of my mind.
SEN. Nay, it is the study that ye have had
In this foolish losophy hath made you mad,
And no other thing, i-wis.
IGN. That is as true as the gospel!
Therefore I have great marvel,
That ever thou wilt follow the counsel
Of yonder two knaves.
HU. O sir, ye know right well this,
That when any man is
In other men's company,
He must needs follow the appetite
Of such things as they delight
Some time among, perdy!
IGN. But such knaves would alway have thee
To put all thy mind and felicity
In this foolish cunning to study;
Which, if thou do, will make thee mad,
And alway to be pensive and sad;
Thou shalt never be merry.
SEN. Merry, quotha? no, I make God avow!
But I pray thee, master, hark! one word now,
And answer this thing:
Whether thought you it better cheer
At the tavern, where we were ere,
Or else to clatter with these knaves here
Of their foolish cunning?
HU. Nay, I cannot say the contrary
But that I had mich merrier company
At the tavern than in this place.
SEN. Then if ye have any wit or brain,
Let us go to the tavern again,
And make some merry solace.
IGN. If he will do so, then doth he wisely.
HU. By my troth, I care not greatly,
For I am indifferent to all company,
Whether it be here or there.
SEN. Then I shall tell you what we will do;
Master Ignorance, you and he also
Shall tarry both still here,
And I will go fet hither a company,
That ye shall hear them sing as sweetly
As they were angels clear;
And yet I shall bring hither another sort
Of lusty bloods to make disport;
That shall both dance and spring,
And turn clean above the ground
With friskas and with gambawds round,
That all the hall shall ring.
And that done, within an hour or twain,
I shall at the town again
Prepare for you a banket
Of meats that be most delicate,
And most pleasant drinks and wines thereat,
That is possible to get,
Which shall be in a chamber fair,
Prepared point-device[21]
With damask water made so well,
That all the house thereof shall smell,
As it were paradise.
And after that, if ye will touch
A fair wench naked[22] in a couch[23]
Of a soft bed of down,
For to satisfy your wanton lust,
I shall appoint you a trull of trust,
Not a fairer in this town!
And when ye have taken your delight,
And thus satisfied the appetite
Of your wits five,
Ye may say then I am a servant
For you so necessary and pleasant,
I trow none such alive!
HU. Now, by the way that God did walk,
It comforteth mine heart to hear thee talk,
Thy match was never seen!
IGN. Then go thy way by and by,
And bring in this company,
And he and I will here tarry,
Till thou come again.
HU. And I pray thee heartily also.
SEN. At your request so shall I do.
Lo! I am gone, now farewell!
I shall bring them into this hall,
And come myself foremost of all,
And of these revels be chief marshal,
And order all things well.
IGN. Now, set thy heart on a merry pin,
Against these lusty bloods come in,
And drive fantasies away.
HU. And so I will, by heaven's King!
If they either dance or sing,
Have among them, by this day!
IGN. Then thou takest good and wise ways,
And so shalt thou best please
All this whole company;
For the foolish arguing that thou hast had
With that knave Experience, that hath made
All these folk thereof weary;
For all that they be now in this hall,
They be the most part my servants all,
And love principally
Disports, as dancing, singing,
Toys, trifles, laughing, jesting;
For cunning they set not by.
HU. I see well such company evermore,
As Sensual Appetite is gone for,
Will please well this audience.
IGN. Yea, that I suppose they will;
But peace, hark! I pray thee be still,
I ween they be not far hence.

[_Then the dancers without the hall sing this wise, and they within answer, or else they may say it for need_.[24]]

THE DANCERS AND SENSUAL.

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

HUMANITY AND IGNORANCE.

Why, who is that so high doth call?

THE DANCERS.

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

HUMANITY AND IGNORANCE.

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

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

[_Then he singeth this song and danceth withal, and evermore maketh countenance according to the matter; and all the others answer likewise_.]

Dance we, dance we, prance we, prance we,
So merrily let us dance ey, so merrily, &c.
And I can dance it gingerly, and I, &c.
And I can foot it by and by, and I, &c.
And I can prank it properly,
And I can countenance comely,[25]
And I can croak it courtesly,
And I can leap it lustily,
And I can turn it trimly,
And I can frisk it freshly,
And I can look it lordly.
IGN. I can thee thank, Sensual Appetite!
That is the best dance without a pipe,
That I saw this seven year.[26]
HU. This dance would do mich better yet,
If we had a kit or taberet,
But alas! there is none here.
SEN. Then let us go to the tavern again,
There shall we be sure of one or twain
Of minstrels, that can well play.
IGN. Then go, I pray ye, by and by,
And purvey some minstrel ready,
And he and I will follow shortly,
As fast as ever we may.
HU. Therewith I am right well content.
SEN. Then will I go incontinent,
And prepare every thing
That is metely to be done;
And for lack of minstrels, the mean season,
Now will we begin to sing.
Now we will here begin to sing,
For dance can we no more,
For minstrels here be all lacking;
To the tavern we will therefore.

[_Et exeunt cantando, &c_.

HU. Now if that Sensual Appetite can find
Any good minstrels after his mind,
Doubt not we shall have good sport.
IGN. And so shall we have for a surety;
But what shall we do now, tell me,
The meanwhile for our comfort?
HU. Then let us some lusty ballad sing.
IGN. Nay, sir, by the Heaven King!
For methinketh it serveth for nothing,
All such peevish prick-eared song!
HU. Peace, man, prick-song may not be despised,
For therewith God is well pleased,
Honoured, praised, and served,
In the church ofttimes among.
IGN. Is God well pleased, trow'st thou, thereby?
Nay, nay, for there is no reason why,
For is it not as good to say plainly,
Give me a spade,
As give me a spa, ve, va, ve, va, ve, vade?
But if thou wilt have a song that is good,
I have one of Robin Hood,
The best that ever was made.
HU. Then, a' fellowship, let us hear it.
IGN. But there is a burden, thou must bear it,
Or else it will not be.
HU. Then begin and care not to ...
Down, down, down, &c.
IGN. Robin Hood in Barnsdale stood,[27]
And leant him till a maple thistle;
Then came our lady and sweet Saint Andrew.
Sleepest thou, wakest thou, Geffrey Coke?
A hundred winter the water was deep,
I can not tell you how broad.
He took a goose neck in his hand,
And over the water he went.
He start up to a thistle top,
And cut him down a hollen club.
He stroke the wren between the horns,
That fire sprang out of the pig's tail.
Jack boy, is thy bow i-broke?
Or hath any man done the wriguldy wrag?
He plucked muscles out of a willow,
And put them into his satchel!
Wilkin was an archer good,
And well could handle a spade;
He took his bent bow in his hand,
And set him down by the fire.
He took with him sixty bows and ten,
A piece of beef, another of bacon.
Of all the birds in merry England
So merrily pipes the merry bottle![28]

NATURE.

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

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

NATURE.

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

[_The original here ends imperfectly_.]

THE TRAGI-COMEDY OF CALISTO AND MELIBAEA.

_A new comedy in English in manner of an interlude right elegant and full of craft of rhetoric: wherein is shewed and described as well the beauty and good properties of women, as their vices and evil conditions, with a moral conclusion and exhortation to virtue. [Col.] Johes rastell me imprimi fecit. Cum privilegio regali. Folio, black letter_.

The only copy known of this piece is among the books of Malone in the Bodleian Library, and it has never hitherto been reprinted. An account of it is given, however, by Collier (_History of English Dramatic Poetry_, ii. 408-12).

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

MELIBAEA.

Franciscus Petrarcus, the poet laureate,
Saith that Nature, which is mother of all things,
Without strife can give life to nothing create;
And Heraclitus, the wise clerk, in his writing,
Saith in all things create strife is their working;
And there is nothing under the firmament
With any other in all points equivalent.
And, according to their diets rehearsed as thus,
All things are create in manner of strife.
These foolish lovers, then, that be so amorous,
From pleasure to displeasure how lead they their life:
Now sorry, now sad: now joyous, now pensive:
Alas! I, poor maiden, then what shall I do,
Cumbered by dotage of one Calisto?
I know that Nature hath given me beauty,
With sanguineous complexion, favour, and fairness:
The more to God ought I to do fea'ty
With will, life, land, and love of perfectness.
I deny not but Calisto is of great worthiness,
But what of that? for all his high estate,
His desire I defy, and utterly shall hate.
Oh, his sayings and suits so importune,
That of my life he maketh me almost weary!
Oh, his lamentations and exclamations on fortune,
With similitude [of] manner as one that should die!
But who shall pity this? In faith, not I.
Shall I accomplish his carnal desire?
Nay, yet at a stake rather bren in a fire.
Of truth, I am sorry for his trouble;
To strive with himself thus for love of me;
But though his sorrows, I assure you, should double,
Out of his danger[29] will I be at liberty.

[_Enter_ CALISTO _unseen_.]

CAL. What amiss, woman, now Christ benedicite?
[_Aside_.
MEL. Nay, nay, he shall never that day see;
His voluptuous appetite consented by me.
Wist he now that I were present here,
I assure you shortly he would seek me;
And without doubt he doth now inquire,
Whither I am gone, or where I should be.
See, is he not now come? I repent[30] me
Alas, of this man I can never be rid:
Would to Christ I wist, where I might be hid.
CAL. By you, fair Melibaea, may be seen
The grace, the gifts, the greatness of God.
MEL. Wherein?
CAL. In taking effect of Dame Nature's strene;[31]
Nor yearthly, but angelic of likelihood;
In beauty so passing the kind of woman-hood.
O God, I might in your presence be able
To manifest my dolours incomparable;
Greater were that reward than the grace
Heaven to obtain by works of pity!
Not so glorious be the saints that see God's face,
Ne joy not so much, as I do you to see.
Yet difference there is between them and me,
For they glorify by His assured presence,
And I in torment because of your absence.
MEL. Why, thinkest thou that so great a reward?
CAL. Yea, more greater than if God would set me
In heaven above all saints, and more in regard;
And think it a more higher felicity.
MEL. Yet more greater thy reward shall be,
If thou flee from the determination
Of thy consent of mind by such temptation.
I perceive the extent of thy words all,
As of the wit of him, that would have the virtue
Of me such a woman to become thrall.
Go thy way with sorrow! I would thou knew
I have, foul scorn of thee, I tell thee true,
Or [of] any human creature with me should begin
Any communication pertaining to sin.
And I promise thee, where--thou art present,
While I live, by my will I will be absent.
[_Exit_.
CAL. Lo! out of all joy I am fallen in woe,
Upon whom adverse fortune hath cast her chance
Of cruel hate, which causeth now away to go
The keeper of my joy and all my pleasance.
Alas, alas, now to me what noyance!

_Enter_ SEMPRONIO, _a parasite_.

SEM. _Dieu garde_, my lord, and God be in this place!
CAL. Sempronio?
SEM. Yea, sir.
CAL. Ah, sir, I shrew thy face!
Why hast thou been from me so long absent?
SEM. For I have been about your business,
To order such things as were convenient,
Your house and horse, and all things, was to dress.
CAL. O Sempronio, have pity on my distress;
For of all creatures I am the woefullest.
SEM. How so? what is the cause of your unrest?
CAL. For I serve in love to the goodliest thing
That is or ever was.
SEM. What is she?
CAL. It is one which is all other exceeding:
The picture of angels, if thou her see:
Phoebus or Phoebe no comparison may be
To her.
SEM. What hight she?
CAL. Melibaea is her name.
SEM. Marry, sir, this would make a wild horse tame!
CAL. I pray thee, Sempronio, go fet me my lute,
And bring some chair or stool with thee;
The arguments of love that I may dispute,
Which science, I find, thou[32] art without pity.
Hie thee, Sempronio, hie thee, I pray thee.
SEM. Sir, shortly, I assure you, it shall be done.
[_Exit Sem_.
CAL. Then farewell! Christ send thee again soon!
Oh, what fortune is equal unto mine!
Oh, what woeful wight with me may compare!
The thirst of sorrow is my mixed wine,
Which daily I drink with deep draughts of care.

_Re-enter_ SEMPRONIO.

SEM. Tush, sir, be merry, let pass away the mare:[33]
How say you, have I not hied me lightly?
Here is your chair and lute to make you merry.
CAL. Merry, quotha? nay, that will not be;
But I must needs sit for very feebleness.
Give me my lute, and thou shalt see
How I shall sing mine unhappiness.
This lute is out of tune now, as I guess;
Alas! in tune how should I set it,
When all harmony to me discordeth each whit,
As he, to whose will reason is unruly?
For I feel sharp needles within my breast;
Peace, war, truth, hatred, and injury:
Hope and suspect, and all in one chest.
SEM. Behold, Nero, in the love of Poppaea[34] oppressed,
Rome how he brent; old and young wept:
But she took no thought, nor never the less slept.
CAL. Greater is my fire, and less pity showed me.
SEM. I will not mock; this fool is a lover. [_Aside_.
CAL. What say'st thou?
SEM. I say, how can that fire be,
That tormenteth but one living man, greater
Than that fire that brenneth a whole city here,
And all the people therein?
CAL. Marry, for that fire is greatest,
That brenneth very sore, and lasteth longest;
And greater is the fire that brenneth one soul,
Than that which brenneth an hundred bodies.
SEM. His saying in this none can control. [_Aside_.
CAL. None but such as list to make lies!
And if the fire of purgatory bren in such wise,
I had liever my spirit in brute beasts should be,
Than to go thither, and then to the deity.
SEM. Marry, sir, that is a spice of heresy.
CAL. Why so?
SEM. For ye speak like no Christian man.
CAL. I would thou knewest Melibaea worship I:
In her I believe, and her I love.
SEM. Ah, ah, then,
With thee Melibaea is a great woman;
I know on which foot thou dost halt on:
I shall shortly heal thee, my life thereupon!
CAL. An incredible thing thou dost promise me.
SEM. Nay, nay, it is easy enough to do;
But first, for to heal a man, knowledge must be
Of the sickness; then to give counsel thereto.
CAL. What counsel can rule him, Sempronio,
That keepeth in him no order of counsel?[35]
SEM. Ah, is this Calisto? his fire now I know well;
How that love over him hath cast her net;
In whose perseverance is all inconstancy.
CAL. Why, is not Elisaeus' love and thine met?
SEM. What then?
CAL. Why reprovest me then of ignorance?
SEM. For thou settest man's dignity in obeisance
To the imperfection of the weak woman.
CAL. A woman? Nay, a god of goddesses.
SEM. Believest that then?
CAL. Yea, and as a goddess I here confess;
And I believe there is no such sovereign
In heaven, though she be in earth.
SEM. Peace, peace.
A woman a god! nay, to God, a villain.
Of your saying ye may be sorry.
CAL. It is plain.
SEM. Why so?
CAL. Because I love her, and think surely
To obtain my desire I am unworthy.
SEM. O fearful heart! why comparest thou with Nimrod
Or Alexander? of this world not lords only,
But worthy to subdue heaven, as saying go'th;
And thou reputest thyself more high
Than them both, and despairest so cowardly
To win a woman, of whom hath been so many
Gotten and ungotten, never heard of any?
It is recited in the Feast of Saint John:
This is the woman of ancient malice;
Of whom but of a woman was it sung on,
That Adam was expulsed from Paradise?
She put man to pain whom Eli did despise.
CAL. Then sith Adam gave him to their governance,
Am I greater than Adam myself to advance?
SEM. Nay, but of those men it were wisdom,
That overcame them to seek remedy,
And not of those that they did overcome.
Flee from their beginnings, eschew their folly:
Thou knowest they do evil things many.
They keep no mean, but rigour of intention;
Be it fair [or] foul, wilful without reason.
Keep them never so close, they will be showed,
Give tokens of love by many subtle ways:
Seeming to be sheep, and serpently shrewd:
Craft in them renewing, that never decays.
Their sayings and sightings provoking their plays.
Oh, what pain is to fulfil their appetites,
And to accomplish their wanton delights!
It is a wonder to see their dissembling,
Their flattering countenance, their ingratitude,
Inconstancy, false witness, feigned weeping:
Their vain-glory, and how they can delude:
Their foolishness, their jangling not mew'd:
Their lecherous lust and vileness therefore:
Witchcrafts and charms to make men to their lore:
Their embalming[36] and their unshamefacedness:
Their bawdry, their subtlety, and fresh attiring!
What trimming, what painting, to make fairness!
Their false intents and flickering smiling:
Therefore lo! it is an old saying
That women be the devil's nets, and head of sin;
And man's misery in Paradise did begin--
CAL. But what thinkest thou by me yet for all this?
SEM. Marry, sir, ye were a man of clear wit,
Whom Nature hath endued with the best gifts,
As beauty and greatness of members perfit:
Strength, lightness; and beyond this each whit
Fortune hath parted with you of her influence,
For to be able of liberal expense.
For without goods, whereof Fortune is lady,
No man can have wealth. Therefore by conjecture
You should be beloved of everybody.
CAL. But not of Melibaea now I am sure;
And though thou hadst praised me without measure,
And compared me without comparison,
Yet she is above in every condition.
Behold her nobleness, her ancient lineage,
Her great patrimony, her excellent wit,
Her resplendent virtue, her portly courage,
Her godly grace, her sovereign beauty perfit!
No tongue is able well to express it;
But yet, I pray thee, let me speak awhile,
Myself to refresh in rehearsing of my style.
I begin at her hair, which is so goodly,
Crisped to her heels, tied with fine lace.
Far shining beyond fine gold of Araby:
I trow the sun colour to it may give place;
That who to behold it might have the grace,
Would say in comparison nothing countervails--
SEM. Then is it not like hair of ass-tails?
CAL. Oh, what foul comparison! this fellow rails.
Her gay glassing eyes so fair and bright;
Her brows, her nose in a mean[37] no fashion fails;
Her mouth proper and feat, her teeth small and white;
Her lips ruddy, her body straight upright;
Her little teats to the eye is a pleasure.
Oh, what a joy it is to see such a figure!
Her skin of whiteness endarketh the snow,
With rose-colour ennewed.[38] I thee ensure
Her little hands in mean[39] manner--this no trow[4]--
Her fingers small and long, with nails ruddy: most pure
Of proportion, none such in portraiture:
Without peer: worthy to have for fairness
The apple that Paris gave Venus the goodness.
SEM. Sir, have ye all done?
CAL. Yea, marry, what then?
SEM. I put case all this ye have said be true;
Yet are ye more noble, sith ye be a man.
CAL. Wherein?
SEM. She is imperfect, I would ye knew,
As all women be, and of less value.
Philosophers say the matter is less worthy
Than the form; so is woman to man surely.
CAL. I love not to hear this altercation
Between Melibaea and me her lover.
SEM. Possible it is in every condition
To abhor her as much as you do love her
In the woman beguiling is the danger,
That ye shall see hereafter with eyes free.
CAL. With what eyes?
SEM. With clear eyes, trust me.
CAL. Why, with what eyes do I see now?
SEM. With dim eyes, which show a little thing much.
But for ye shall not despair, I assure you
No labour nor diligence in me shall grutch:
So trusty and friendly ye shall find me such,
In all things possible that ye can acquire
The thing to accomplish to your desire.
CAL. God bring that to pass, so glad it is to me
To hear thee thus, though I hope not in thy doings.
SEM. Yet I shall do it, trust me for a surety.
CAL. God reward thee for thy gentle intending;
I give thee this chain of gold in rewarding.
SEM. Sir, God reward you, and send us good speed;
I doubt not but I shall perform it indeed.
But without rewards it is hard to work well.
CAL. I am content, so thou be not negligent.
SEM. Nay, be not you; for it passeth a marvel,
The master slow, the servant to be diligent.
CAL. How thinkest it can be? show me thine intent.
SEM. Sir, I have a neighbour, a mother of bawdry,
That can provoke the hard rocks to lechery.
In all evil deeds she is perfect wise.
I trow more than a thousand virgins
Have been destroyed by her subtle devices,
For she never faileth, where she begins:
Alone by this craft her living she wins.
Maids, wives, widows, and every one,
If she once meddle, there escapeth none.
CAL. How might I speak with her, Sempronio?
SEM. I shall bring her hither unto this place;
But ye must in any wise let rewards go,
And show her your griefs in every case.
CAL. Else were I not worthy to attain grace.
But, alas, Sempronio, thou tarriest too long.
SEM. Sir, God be with you.
CAL. Christ make thee strong! [_Exit Sem_.
The mighty and perdurable God be his guide,
As he guided the three kings into Bedlam[40]
From the east by the star, and again did provide
As their conduct to return to their own realm;
So speed my Sempronio to quench the leme[41]
Of this fire, which my heart doth waste and spend;
And that I may come to my desired end!
To pass the time now will I walk
Up and down within mine orchard,
And to myself go commune and talk;
And pray that fortune to me be not hard;
Longing to hear, whether made or marred,
My message shall return by my servant Sempronio.
Thus farewell, my lords; for a while I will go.

_Enter_ CELESTINA, _the bawd_.

CEL. Now the blessing that our lady gave her son,
That same blessing I give now to you all!
That I come thus homely, I pray you of pardon;
I am sought and send for as a woman universal.
Celestina, of truth, my name is to call;
Sempronio for me about doth inquire,
And it was told me I should have found him here.
I am sure he will come hither anon;
But the whilst I shall tell you a pretty game:
I have a wench of Sempronio's, a pretty one,
That sojourneth with me: Elicaea is her name.
But the last day we were both nigh a stark shame,
For Sempronio would have her to himself several;
And she loveth one Crito better or as well.
This Crito and Elicaea sat drinking
In my house, and I also making merry;
And as the devil would, far from our thinking,
Sempronio almost came on us suddenly.
But then wrought I my craft of bawdry;
I bade Crito go up, and make himself room
To hide him in my chamber among the broom.[42]
Then made I Elicaea sit down a-sewing,
And I with my rock[43] began for to spin;
As who saith of Sempronio we had no knowing.
He knocked at the door, and I let him in;
And for a countenance I did begin
To catch him in mine arms, and said, see, see!
Who kisseth me, Elicaea, and will not kiss thee?
Elicaea for a countenance made her grieved,
And would not speak, but still did sew.
Why speak ye not? quoth Sempronio, be ye moved?
Have I not a cause, quoth she? no, quoth he, I trow.
Ah! traitor, quoth she, full well dost thou know!
Where hast thou been these three days from me,
That the imposthumes and evil death take thee!
Peace, mine Elicaea, quoth he, why say ye thus?
Alas! why put you yourself in this woe?
The hot fire of love so brenneth between us,
That my heart is with yours, wherever I go;
And for three days' absence to say to me so,
In faith, methinketh, ye be to blame.
But now hark well, for here beginneth the game!
Crito, in my chamber above that was hidden,
I think lay not easily, and began to rumble;
Sempronio heard that, and asked who was within,
Above in the chamber that so did tumble.
Who? quoth she; a lover of mine! may-hap, ye stumble,
Quoth he, on the truth, as many one doth.
So up, quoth she, and look, whether it be sooth.
Well, quoth he, I go. Nay, thought I, not so,
I said, come, Sempronio, let this fool alone;
For of thy long absence she is in such woe,
And half beside herself, and her wit nigh gone.
Well, quoth he, above yet there is one.
Wilt thou know, quoth I? yea, quoth he, I thee require;
It is a wench, quoth I, sent me by a friar.
What friar? quoth he. Wilt thou needs know? quoth I; then
It is the friar[44] ...
Oh, quoth he, what a load hath that woman
To bear him! Yea, quoth I; though women per case
Bear heavy full oft, yet they gall in no place.
Then he laughed; yea, quoth I, no more words of this
For this time; too long we spend here amiss.

_Intrat_ SEMPRONIO.

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

_Intrat_ CALISTO _et_ PARMENO.