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 THREE INTERLUDES: THERSYTES JACK JUGLER 
 
 AND HEYWOODS PARDONER AND FRERE : 
 
 AND JOCASTA A TRAGEDY 
 
 BY GASCOIGNE AND 
 
 KINWELMARSH 
 
 INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 
 
 CAMBRIDGE 
 GEORGE NICHOLS 
 
 MDCCCXLVIII 
 
■x r$ 
 
 V 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1848, by George Nichols,, in the 
 Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 Gift. 
 
 W. L. Shoemaker 
 
 J S '06 
 
 CAMBRIDGE; 
 METCALF AND COMPANY, 
 
 PRINTERS TO THE UNIVERSITY. 
 
J. INGERSOLL BOWDITCH, 
 
 THIS LITTLE VOLUME 
 IS INSCRIBED, 
 
 WITH SINCERE GRATITUDE 
 AND RESPECT. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 The term Interlude, once applied to dra- 
 matic compositions generally, because these 
 amusements were employed to fill up the in- 
 tervals of grand entertainments, was afterwards 
 used in a restricted sense and appropriated to 
 short pieces, having simple plots, free from 
 the abstractions of the Moralities, and possess- 
 ing the attractions of some incident, lively 
 dialogue, and individuality of character. Sev- \ 
 eral such pieces were written by John Hey- 
 wood, for performance at court, and he may 
 well enough be called their inventor. Between 
 the Moralities and the Interludes, there is a 
 class partaking of the nature of both, and 
 mingling allegorical with individual imperson- 
 
 
Vlll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ation. To this class Mr. Collier refers Jack 
 Jugler, under the title of " Moral-Plays re- 
 sembling tragedy and comedy." * Thersytes, like 
 the Pardoner and Frere, comes under the head 
 of Interludes. It will be observed, however, 
 that the Vice in Jack Jugler possesses few 
 traits of resemblance to that notorious character 
 in the genuine Moral. 
 
 " Jack Jugler is one of the very oldest pieces 
 in our language founded upon a classic origi- 
 nal. From passages, both in the prologue 
 and epilogue, - )" it is to be collected that the 
 piece was written before the Reformation was 
 completed. 
 
 " We may infer, therefore, that this interlude 
 was written either in the reign of Edward VI. 
 or Mary, though not published until Eliza- 
 
 * Hist. Dram. Poet., II. 271, 363. The excellent authority of Mr. 
 Collier is always confidently followed, and his words are frequently used. 
 t " And the first scentence of y e same for higher things endite 
 In no wise he wold, for yet the time is so quesie 
 That he that speaketh hest, is lest thanke worthie." — p. 7. 
 " Such is the fashyon of the worlde now a dayes 
 That the symple innosaintes ar deluded 
 And an hundred thousand diuers wayes 
 By suttle and craftye meanes shamefullie abused 
 And by strength force, and violence oft tymes compelled 
 To beliue and saye the moone is made of a grene chese 
 Or ells haue great harme, and parcace their life lese." — p. 46 
 
INTRODUCTION. IX 
 
 beth had been a few years on the throne. 
 The printer has added no date, but it was 
 entered on the Stationers' books in 1562; and 
 as none of William Copland's dated books 
 came from his press after 1561, we may con- 
 clude, with tolerable certainty, that its appear- 
 ance was not delayed beyond 1563." * 
 
 Plautus's tragi-comedy of Amphitryon has 
 been perhaps more popular on the modern 
 stage than any other ancient play. It is the 
 groundwork of one of the best comedies of the 
 great Moliere, and of a once favorite English 
 drama, which Sir Walter Scott, in an introduc- 
 tion not everywhere distinguished by his usual 
 judgment, styles " one of the happiest effusions 
 of Dryden's comic muse." It has been several 
 times translated into our tongue, and by 
 Bonnell Thornton with an elegance, spirit, 
 and correctness that leave nothing to be de- 
 sired. 
 
 This is not the place to expatiate on the 
 merits of the Latin play ; but the assertion may 
 be hazarded without much risk, that both the 
 original and Thornton's version are, taken as 
 
 * Hist. Dram. Poet., II. 366. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 wholes, considerably superior to any of the 
 imitations. Indeed, the character of Alcmena, 
 as drawn by Plautus, so truly innocent, simple, 
 and loving, her distress on being suspected by 
 her husband, and his agony at finding her, as 
 he believes, dishonest, immediately suggest, as 
 the accomplished translator has observed, a not 
 discreditable comparison with our Othello. We 
 may add, too, that the conclusion of the fourth 
 act, where Amphitryon, " perplexed in the ex- 
 treme," and defying the gods in the intensity 
 of his despair, rushes to the house to wreak 
 his vengeance on his family and is struck 
 down by lightning, rises to grandeur, almost 
 to sublimity, and must produce immense dra- 
 matic effect in the representation. Very little 
 of this sort of thing appears in the modern 
 play. What Dryden has made of Alcmena will 
 be understood, when we observe that he adapt- 
 ed her to the standard of contemporary taste. 
 Yet Scott has strangely said, that, " in the 
 scenes of a higher cast, Dryden far outstrips 
 both the French and Roman poet " ! 
 
 The reader will not find any such important 
 characters as gods and generals in the drama 
 
INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 before him. Jack Jugler can hardly be called 
 an imitation of the comedy of Plantus. It is 
 the play of Amphitryon without the part of 
 Amphitryon, and resembles more than any 
 thing else one of those pieces made up of the 
 comic portions of plays, which used to be 
 called " drolls." In fact, Jack Jugler is a cari- 
 cature even of the comic parts. All dignity is 
 stripped from the characters, every ridiculous 
 feature is much exaggerated, and the language 
 and incidents are ingeniously vulgarized to re- 
 duce every thing to the grotesque, the quaint- 
 ness of the expressions greatly heightening the 
 effect to a modern reader. The amiable Alcme- 
 na becomes a " verie cursed shrew." General 
 Amphitryon sinks into Master Boungrace, a 
 commonplace " gentilman," somewhat subject, 
 we suspect, to being imposed upon by his wife 
 and servants. Bromia, the insignificant and 
 well-conducted attendant, is changed into the 
 smart and malicious Aulsoon tripe and goo. 
 
 There is no proper plot to the piece; the 
 whole action consisting in getting Jenkin Care- 
 awaie into as much trouble as possible, when 
 he is left to go to bed with aching bones, and 
 
Xll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 wishing bad luck to his second self. He does 
 not get off with a beating from Jack and his 
 master. The servant-maid lends her tongue, 
 and her mistress both tongue and hand, for the 
 amusement of the spectators and the revenge 
 of Jack Jugler. Those who are acquainted 
 with the tedious performances of those times 
 will recognize with pleasure an uncommon ra- 
 ciness and spirit in this little interlude. The 
 lines are rude, but sharp and bold, and Dame 
 Coye may even be called a well-drawn and 
 original character. 
 
 In Mr. Wright's Early Mysteries, and other 
 Latin Poems of the Twelfth and Thirteenth Cen- 
 turies, will be found a rather clever and once 
 very popular poem, founded on Amphitryon, 
 the Geta of Vital of Blois. Amphitryon in 
 this is a student of Greek learning, and the 
 awkwardness of Alcmena's situation after Ju- 
 piter's visit is got over by her assuring her 
 confiding husband that she thinks the whole 
 affair must have been a dream. 
 
 The indelicacies of language, which are some- 
 what frequent in these interludes, never amount- 
 ing to immoralities, though sufficiently gross, 
 
INTRODUCTION. Xlll 
 
 have not been considered of such a nature as 
 to justify a mutilation of the text. Everybody 
 knows how far from offensive these coarsenesses 
 were to an English audience of the sixteenth 
 century. The annexed letter of Lady Mon- 
 tague (quoted by Thornton), while it affords an 
 amusing comparison with our play, will give an 
 idea of Austrian refinement in the eighteenth. 
 
 " Vienna, Sept. 14. 
 
 " Their comedies are in as high a degree ridiculous. 
 They have but one play-house, where I had the curiosity 
 to go to a German comedy, and was glad it happened to 
 be the story of Amphitryon. As that subject has been 
 already handled by a Latin, French, and English poet, 
 I was curious to see what an Austrian author could make 
 of it. I understand enough of that language to compre- 
 hend the greatest part of it ; and, besides, I took with 
 me a lady that had the goodness to explain to me every 
 word. I thought the house very low and dark ; but I 
 confess the comedy admirably recompensed that defect. 
 I never laughed so much in my life. It begun with Ju- 
 piter's falling in love out of a peep-hole in the clouds, 
 and ended with the birth of Hercules. But what was 
 most pleasant was the use Jupiter made of his metamor- 
 phosis ; for you no sooner saw him under the figure of 
 Amphitryon, but, instead of flying to Alcmena with the 
 raptures Mr. Dryden puts in his mouth, he sends for 
 b 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Amphitryon's taylor, and cheats him of a laced coat, and 
 his banker of a bag of money, a Jew of a diamond ring, 
 and bespeaks a great supper in his name ; and the great- 
 est part of the comedy turns upon poor Amphitryon's 
 being tormented by these people for their debts. Mercu- 
 ry uses Sosia in the same manner. But I could not 
 easily pardon the liberty the poet has taken of larding 
 his play with not only indecent expressions, but such 
 gross words as I don't think our mob would suffer from 
 
 a mountebank The boxes were full of people of 
 
 the first rank, that seemed very well pleased with their 
 entertainment, and assured me this was a celebrated 
 piece." 
 
 THERSYTES. 
 
 Thersytes, as well as Jack Jugler, is anony- 
 mous, and "deserves especial remark as the old- 
 est dramatic performance extant in which a 
 historical character (independent of Scripture 
 personages) is introduced; although the events 
 in which he is engaged are mere ridiculous 
 burlesque, and have no connection whatever 
 with history." * The author, by the Epilogue, 
 has noted the precise time at which the play 
 
 * Hist. Dram. Poet., II. 399. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 must have been written, " in mentioning the 
 birth of Prince Edward (afterwards King Ed- 
 ward VI.), which happened the 12th of August, 
 1537, and invoking the Almighty to save the 
 ' Queen, lovely Lady Jane,' who is supposed 
 to have died the second day after that event. 
 If then acted, it was probably revived on the 
 accession of Queen Elizabeth, and printed by 
 Tysdale, whose typographical labors did not 
 commence in Alhallow's Church-yard until 
 1561." * (He printed between 1550 and 1563.) 
 
 The play does not require particular notice. 
 Its lively absurdity could not have failed to be 
 entertaining to an easy audience, and is not 
 tiresome now. Thersytes indulges plentifully 
 in one of the privileges of the old Vice, — 
 that of talking incoherent nonsense. There is 
 a vigor in some parts quite unusual in these 
 things, and many of the lines in Skelton's 
 metre have some of his power, together with 
 all his coarseness. The passage, pp. 84 - 86, 
 may remind the reader of that remarkable po- 
 em, Elynour Rummy ng. 
 
 " So rare were both Interludes [i. e. Jack 
 
 *■ Haslewood's Preface. 
 
XVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Jugler and Thersytes], that their existence 
 had long been doubted, when, in 1810, they 
 were discovered in a private collection of an- 
 cient plays. That collection was so large, 
 and contained specimens of the early drama 
 so little known, as to induce a spirited 
 bibliopolist to purchase the whole, project- 
 ing a republication of old English Mysteries, 
 Moralities, Interludes, Pageants, and Plays. 
 It was to have extended to twenty octavo vol- 
 umes. Unfortunately, an announcement of a 
 similar nature, although upon a smaller scale, 
 (and afterwards meagrely executed,) deterred 
 the intended proprietors from the venture of 
 the large capital necessary to complete so ex- 
 tensive an undertaking. Hence the whole col- 
 lection was promiscuously dispersed." * 
 
 Thirty-five copies of these plays were printed 
 by Mr. Haslewood in 1820, for the Eoxburghe 
 Club, from one of which this impression has 
 been made. 
 
 * Haslewood's Preface. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XV11 
 
 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 The following account of John Heywood is 
 extracted from Mr. Fairholt's Preface to the 
 Dialogue on Wit and Folly, printed by the 
 Percy Society. 
 
 " The materials for a biography of Heywood are very 
 slender, and but little space, accordingly, has been de- 
 voted to his name and acts in our biographical dictiona- 
 ries. He was born at North Mims, near St. Albans, in 
 Hertfordshire, and received the first rudiments of his ed- 
 ucation at Oxford; < but the sprightliness of his disposi- 
 tion,' says Chalmers QBio graphical Dictionary, Vol. 
 XVII.) , 6 not being well adapted to the sedentary life 
 of an academician, he went back to his native place, 
 where, being in the neighbourhood of the great Sir 
 Thomas More, he presently contracted an intimacy with 
 that Maecenas of wit and genius, who introduced him to 
 the knowledge and patronage of the Princess Mary. 
 Heywood's ready aptness for jest and repartee, togeth- 
 er with the possession of great skill both in vocal and 
 instrumental music, rendered him a favorite with Henry 
 VIII., who frequently rewarded him very highly.' Sir 
 Frederic Madden, in the notes to his Privy Purse Ex- 
 penses of the Princess Mary (p. 239), notices 'that hi 
 the Book of Payments of Henry VIII., 1538-44, is a 
 quarterly allowance of fifty shillings to ■" John Haywood, 
 
XV111 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 player on the virginals " ; and in The Household Booh of 
 the Princess Elizabeth, in 1533, a gratuity of thirty shil- 
 lings to him.' And among the items of the Princess 
 Mary's expenditure we find his name twice mentioned ; 
 thus, in January, 1536-37, we have, 'item geven to 
 Heywood's servante for bringing of my Lady's Grace's 
 Regalles from London to Grenewiche, xxc?.' ; and in 
 March, 1537-38, a more direct mention of his connec- 
 1 tion with courtly amusements : ' item ; geven to Hey- 
 | wood playeng an enterlude w 1, his children before my la- 
 die's Grace, xls.' This latter entry is of peculiar inter- 
 i est, as it would appear that these children were his schol- 
 ars ; and, as Sir Frederic Madden observes, as ' most 
 of the interludes written by him had appeared in print in 
 1533, we may conjecture that the one played by himself 
 and children was selected from them.' Heywood was at 
 this time a great favorite at court, particularly with the 
 Princess Mary, and he continued to be so until her dying 
 day, and is said to have been admitted to her bedside, 
 in her last illness, to amuse her with his happy talent of 
 telling diverting stories. Heywood seems to have had a 
 great respect or even attachment to Mary ; and when she 
 A was eighteen years of age, composed a poem in her 
 praise. It is preserved in the Harleian MS., No. 1703, 
 and is published entire in Park's edition of Walpole's 
 Royal and Noble Authors (Vol. I. p. 81), where it is 
 deduced as ' an instance of his poetic policy ' ; but it is 
 surely not too much to allow that gratitude for her favors 
 
INTRODUCTION. XIX 
 
 to him may have had some influence upon his mind and 
 his poetic fancy, for, as Sir Frederic Madden justly ob- 
 serves, — ' These lines could scarcely be mere courtly 
 flattery, if written at the period they profess to be, since 
 Mary was then under the cloud of disgrace, and had 
 
 scarcely a friend in the world.' 
 
 " Chalmers says, * on the accession of Edward VI., he I 
 still continued in favor, though, as Puttenham says, in his 
 Art of English Poesie, 1599, it was for the mirth and 
 quickness of conceit, more than any good learning that 
 was in him.' The same author relates an anecdote of his 
 dining at the Duke of Northumberland's table, which 
 serves now principally to show how little real wit went to 
 the making of jests in those days, and how excessively 
 dull their merry stories were. The duke, it appears, had 
 sold his plate to pay his debts, and Heywood, who was 
 sitting at the table's end, ' being loth to call for his drink 
 so oft as he was dry, turned his eye towards the cupboard 
 and said, " I find great misse of your grace's standing \ 
 cups." The duke, thinking he had spoken it of some 
 knowledge that his plate was lately sold, said, somewhat 
 sharply, " Why, sir, will not those cuppes serve as good 
 a man as yourselfe? " Heywood readily replied, "Yes, 
 if it please your grace ; but I would have one of them 
 stand still at my elbow, full of drinke, that I might not 
 be driven to trouble your grace's man so often to call for 
 it." This pleasant and speedy reverse of the former 
 wordes holpe all the matter again, whereupon the duke 
 
XX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 became very pleasant, and drank a bolle of wine to Hey- 
 wood, and bid a cuppe should always be standing by 
 him.' Some more of his witty sayings, Chalmers tells 
 us, are preserved 'among the Cotton MSS. in the Brit- 
 ish Museum'; and Oldys says, ' his pleasant wit saved 
 him from the gallows in the reign of Edward VI. See 
 Sir John Harrington's Metamorphosis of Ajax. He was 
 so entangled with some of the Popish party that he nar- 
 rowly escaped being noosed ; but the Muses were his ad- 
 vocates.' * His own opinion of his facetiousness is given, 
 in his words, as a motto to our title-page. 
 
 " When Mary came to the throne, Heywood again 
 shared court favor, and was appointed to address her when 
 the procession passed through London to Westminster, 
 the day before her coronation, 27th Sept. 1553. He was 
 placed in St. Paul's Church-yard, and ' sate in a pageant, 
 under a vine, and made to her an oration in Latin and 
 English' (Stowe's Annals, ed. 1617, p. 617). He also 
 composed < A balade specifienge the maner, partly the 
 matter, in the most excellent meetyng and lyke Mariage 
 betwene our Soveraigne Lord, and our Soveraigne Lady, 
 the Kynge's and Queene's highness,' highly laudatory of 
 
 * " ' What thinke you by Heywood, that scaped hanging with his 
 mirth ; the King being graciously, and (as I thinke) truly perswaded. 
 that a man that wrote so pleasant and harmelesse verses, could not have 
 any harmfull conceit against his proceedings ; and so, by the honest mo- 
 tion of a gentleman of his chamber, saved him from the jerke of the 
 six-stringed whip.' — Met of Ajax (ed. 1596, p. 25). 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXI 
 
 Mary's marriage with Philip of Spain. It is reprinted 
 entire in the Harleian Miscellany QP ark's edition, Vol. 
 X. p. 255), to which a note is appended, where, as usual, 
 Hey wood's honest motives are doubted, although the 
 writer can scarcely help acknowledging the equal proba- 
 bility of their existence. He says : — • ' Vargas, a Span- ; 
 ish poet, is said, by Puttenham, to have been rewarded 
 with a pension of two hundred crowns, during life, for an 
 epithalamie, or nuptial song, on the marriage of Queen i 
 Mary with King Philip, at Winchester, July 25, 1554. 
 Heywood might have furbished up his courtly pen in the J 
 anticipation of a similar recompense for these preposter- \ 
 ously flattering verses on the same event, though his re- 
 jfigious attachments, and the patronage he obtained from 
 Mary while princess, through the introduction of Sir 
 Thomas More, were, perhaps, of themselves, sufficient 
 
 stimulants.' 
 
 " The close of Heywood' s career may be told in Chal- 
 mers's words : — 4 After the death of Mary, he,' says 
 our author, ' being a bigoted Roman Catholic, perceiving 
 that the Protestant interest was likely to prevail under 
 the patronage of her successor, Queen Elizabeth ; and 
 perhaps apprehensive that some of the severities which 
 had been practised on the Protestants in the preceding 
 reign might be retaliated on those of a contrary per- 
 suasion in the ensuing one, and especially on the peculiar 
 favorites of Queen Mary, he thought it best, for the secu- 
 rity of his person, and the preservation of his religion, to 
 
 k 
 
XX11 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 quit the kingdom. Thus, throwing himself into voluntary 
 exile, he settled at Mechlin, in Brabant, where he died in 
 1565, leaving several children behind him, to all of whom 
 he had given liberal educations. His character in pri- 
 vate life seems to have been that of a sprightly, humor- 
 ous, and entertaining companion. As a poet, he was held 
 in no inconsiderable esteem by his contemporaries, though 
 none of his writings extended to any great length, but 
 seem, like his conversation, to have been the result of 
 little sudden sallies of mirth and humor.' ' 
 
 The earliest of Heywood's interludes, accord- 
 ing to Mr. Collier, is probably the merry play 
 included in this volume. It was printed in 
 1533, but must have been written before 1521, 
 because Leo X. is spoken of in it as living. 
 This impression is from a facsimile reprint 
 made about 1820. 
 
 " The Play of the Wether. A new and a very 
 mery enterlude of all maner of Wethers : made 
 by John Heywood," contains the greatest num- 
 ber of characters in any of the author's pieces, 
 the players' names being, — " Jupiter, a god ; 
 Mery Reporte, the vyce ; the gentylman, the 
 marchaunt, the ranger, the water myller, the 
 wynde myller, the gentylwoman, the launder, 
 
INTRODUCTION. XX111 
 
 a boy, the least that can play." It exhibits 
 the inconveniences and misfortunes which arise 
 from the contrary dispositions of Saturn, Phoe- 
 bus, Eolus, and Phoebe, and from the conflict- 
 ing desires of mankind. The trouble is rem- 
 edied by Jupiter's being appointed autocrat of 
 the weather, and by his promising to fulfil ev- 
 ery request at the proper seasons, so that all 
 occupations may prosper, without one retard- 
 ing another. 
 
 The Play of Love has for its characters, — 
 " the Lover not beloved ; the Woman beloved, 
 not loving ; the Lover beloved ; and one Nei- 
 ther lover nor loved, who comes in also as 
 the Vice." The matter in dispute is double, — 
 which of the first two is more miserable, and 
 which is the happier of the other pair. The 
 conclusion is, that the advantage and disad- 
 vantage are about equal in both cases, and all 
 parties are exhorted to be content with their 
 condition. 
 
 "A Mery ~Play between Johan Johan, the 
 Husbande ; Tyb, his Wyfe ; and Sir Jhan, the 
 Preest" is an interlude of great rarity, but was 
 privately reprinted a few years ago. It is much 
 
XXIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the best of Heywood's pieces, after the Four 
 Ps, and absolutely very amusing. Tyb makes 
 a feast for her paramour, Sir John, and sets 
 her henpecked husband to various menial la- 
 bors while they are enjoying themselves. John 
 gets out of patience, at last, and into a pas- 
 sion, at which Tyb and Sir John fall upon 
 him, and make the blood run about his ears, 
 then decamp. John considers their departure 
 as the consequence of his spirited conduct, un- 
 til it occurs to him that they might take dis- 
 agreeable revenge upon him, when he pursues 
 them, and ends the piece. Nearly the whole 
 play is given by Mr. Fairholt. 
 
 " The Play called the Foure Ps, a newe 
 and a very mery interlude of a Palmer, a Par- 
 doner, a Potycary, and a Pedlar," is well known 
 to all readers of our old drama. The charac- 
 ters dispute with each other which shall tell 
 the greatest lie. After each has delivered an 
 enormous story, the Palmer accidentally drops 
 the assertion, that he never saw a woman out 
 of patience in his life, which the others, taken 
 by surprise, declare to be a lie unsurpassable, 
 and unconsciously award to him the victory. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXV 
 
 " The Dialogue of Wit and Folly contains 
 but three characters, John, James, and Jerome. 
 John argues the superiority of the life of a 
 wise man, and James the great extra ease and 
 comfort of the witless one, and the speech of 
 the latter is remarkable for feeling and spirit, 
 when comparing the husbandman's and stu- 
 dent's life : — 
 
 1 Less is the peril and less is the pain, 
 The knocking of knuckles which fingers doth strain, 
 Than digging in the heart, or drying of the brain.' 
 
 " James triumphs over his adversary by the 
 assertion, that fools, not being answerable for 
 their sins, have sure chance of heaven, a posi- 
 tion which is overthrown by Jerome, who en- 
 ters and contradicts him, proving the untena- 
 bleness of such an argument, and showing the 
 triumph in every way of wit over folly."* 
 
 The appreciating and genial historian of our 
 poetry has been so unjust to Hey wood as to 
 declare that his comedies " are destitute of 
 plot, humor, or character." Most readers will 
 find some degree of all of these even in the 
 Pardoner and Frere, by no means his best 
 
 * Fairholt. 
 
XXVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 play. The Pardoner's descent into hell, in the 
 Four Ps, is one of the most capital passages 
 in our comic poetry; and there are many bits 
 of good philosophy scattered through all these 
 rude performances. 
 
 JOCASTA. 
 
 George Gascoigne, under whose name this 
 play commonly goes, was born of an ancient 
 family in Essex, and was son and heir of Sir 
 John Gascoigne. He was at first privately 
 educated, and afterwards sent to Cambridge, 
 the nursery of most of our greatest poets. 
 Leaving the University, he removed to Gray's 
 Inn for the purpose of studying law. Like 
 many of his fraternity, from Ovid to Cowper, 
 he found poetry more to his taste. Having 
 incurred great expenses from fashionable liv- 
 ing, he was obliged to sell his patrimony, and 
 it is conjectured with probability that his ex- 
 travagance was the cause of his being disin- 
 herited. Success at court required sacrifices 
 not agreeable to his spirit, and a more honor- 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXV11 
 
 able career being open to him in Holland, he 
 embarked for that country in 1572, obtained a 
 captain's commission under the Prince of Or- 
 ange, and acquired considerable reputation in 
 the war against the Spanish tyrant. Hence 
 he took for his motto, " Tarn Marti quam Mer- 
 curio." After his return to England, he resid- 
 ed partly at Gray's Inn, and partly at Wal- 
 thamstowe, and seems to have devoted himself 
 to composition and to the publication of his 
 works. He died, according to Whetstone, Oc- 
 tober 7, 1577, and left a wife and son behind 
 him. His age is not mentioned by any of his 
 biographers, but probably did not exceed forty, 
 perhaps fell several years short of that. 
 
 "Although he enjoyed the esteem of many 
 of his poetical contemporaries, and the patron- 
 age of Lord Grey of Wilton, the Earl of Bed- 
 ford, Sir Walter Rawleigh, and other persons 
 of distinction, yet he complains bitterly of what 
 poets in all ages have felt, the envy of rivals 
 and the malevolence of critics, and seems to 
 intimate, that, although he apparently bore this 
 treatment with patience, yet it insensibly wore 
 him out, and brought on a bodily distemper 
 
XXV111 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 which his physicians could not cure. In all 
 his publications, he takes every opportunity to 
 introduce and bewail the errors of his youth, 
 and to atone for any injury, real or supposed, 
 which might have accrued to the public from 
 a perusal of his early poems, in which, how- 
 ever, the proportion of indelicate thoughts is 
 surely not very great." * 
 
 The rarity of all the editions of Gascoigne's 
 works has prevented him from being as well 
 known as his merits deserve. Many of his 
 poems are too long for the time and patience 
 of readers of our days, yet the Steel Glass and 
 some of the shorter pieces would be highly 
 valued, if presented in a readable shape. A 
 brief account of his dramatic productions is all 
 that is here necessary. 
 
 Supposes, as well as Jocasta, was represent- 
 ed at Gray's Inn in 1566. It is a tolera- 
 bly faithful translation of Gli Suppositi of Ari- 
 osto, containing nothing original except a 
 
 * Chalmers, whose life of Gascoigne is abridged above from Vol. 
 II. of the English Poets, where will be found all that is known about 
 our author, together with a full account of the various editions of his 
 works. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXIX 
 
 wretched prologue, and is chiefly remarkable 
 as the first existing specimen of a play in 
 English prose. It is printed in Hawkins's Ori- 
 gin of the English Drama. 
 
 The Glasse of Government, a tragicall com- 
 edie, according to Mr. Collier, is "a most te- 
 dious puritanical treatise upon education, illus- 
 trated by the different talents and propensities 
 of four young men placed under the same 
 master. The two cleverest are reduced to vice, 
 while the two dullest persevere in a course of 
 virtue, and one of them becomes secretary to 
 the Landgrave, and the other c a famous preach- 
 er.' Nothing can be more uninteresting than 
 the whole performance, although the author 
 has labored to enliven it by the introduction 
 of a Parasite, a Bawd, a Prostitute, a Rois- 
 ter, and a knavish servant. The schoolmaster 
 preaches a regular sermon, quoting chapter 
 and verse, and reads a long lecture on the 
 duties of honor, obedience, and love."* Gas- 
 coigne had little dramatic power or skill, and 
 this piece is a play only in form. 
 
 Jocasta is an alteration of the Phoenissce of 
 
 * Hist. Dram. Poet, HI. 7. 
 
 c* 
 
XXX INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Euripides. The first and fourth acts were 
 ;t done " by Francis Kinwelmarsh, the rest by 
 Gascoigne,* with the exception of the epi- 
 logue, which was written by Christopher Yel- 
 verton. Ferrex and Porrex, noted as our first 
 English tragedy and our first play in blank 
 verse, furnished the model, which was closely 
 followed, and without improvement. Jocasta 
 came only four or fiYe years later ; it is the 
 second blank-verse play, and, as far as is 
 known, the first Greek play introduced on the 
 English stage. 
 
 Warton has said, that this play is partly a 
 paraphrase and partly an abridgment of the 
 Greek tragedy, and that there are many omis- 
 sions, retrenchments, and transpositions. The 
 original is, to be sure, retrenched of most of 
 its beauties and abridged of its fair propor- 
 tions, but the English play is nearly a thousand 
 lines longer. Where a fine passage is left out, 
 a very indifferent one of greater length is gen- 
 erally inserted. The characters and the sub- 
 stance of the story are retained. The second 
 
 * It will be observed that only the second act is, in this edition, set 
 down as Gascoigne's. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXXI 
 
 act follows Euripides with little variation, but 
 follows, of course, " hand passibus cequis." The 
 authors had, no doubt, good reasons for not 
 drawing largely on the public's knowledge of 
 ancient history and mythology. The change 
 of the Chorus from Phoenician to Theban wo- 
 men relieved them from the necessity of some 
 recondite allusions, and the entire omission of 
 the Theban dragon was a still greater saving. 
 For the same reason, the description of the 
 leaders against Thebes and of their battle is 
 nearly all left out, and even the mention of 
 proper names is sedulously avoided. By way 
 of amends, in the third act, a little instruc- 
 tion is given in sacrificial antiquities, and the 
 exhibition must have been highly edifying 
 to an audience fond even of dumb show. 
 Long speeches are frequently broken up, and 
 several other alterations made, consequent upon 
 those already spoken of. 
 
 It would be unreasonable to criticize severe- 
 ly the skilfulness either of the translation or 
 of the versification ; the authors were pioneers 
 in both. There is a tedious want of variety 
 in the metre, and nothing resembling conden- 
 
XXX11 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 sation, from beginning to end. Euripides cer- 
 tainly does not require expansion : our authors 
 have diluted his lines to the last degree of 
 weakness and insipidity, when literal fidelity 
 would have secured pathos and effect. As a 
 strong instance, the single line, 
 
 " O mother, wife most wretched," 
 
 is thus drawn out by Gascoigne: — 
 
 " O wife, O mother, both wofull names, 
 O wofull mother, and wofull wyfe, 
 O woulde to God, alas, woulde to God 
 Thou nere had bene my mother, nor my wyfe." * 
 
 It ought to be remarked, that one or two 
 passages are rendered with considerable spirit, 
 and that the choruses at the end of the acts, 
 which are wholly due to the translators, are 
 written with skill and elegance. The reader 
 will find the best passage in the play com- 
 pared with a literal version, in the fifty-sev- 
 enth section of War ton's History. 
 
 * Hear Pyramus, in Midsummer- Night's Dream : — 
 
 " O grim-look'd night ! night with hue so black ! 
 night, which ever art, when day is not ! 
 
 night, night, alack, alack, alack, 
 
 1 fear my Thisby's promise is forgot ! " 
 
 Act V.Sc.l. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXX111 
 
 The progress of the language, and the 
 strangeness of many of the words in the poet- 
 ical vocabulary, rendered it necessary to affix 
 marginal explanations in editions of Gas- 
 coigne's poems printed a very few years after 
 the first. Some of these words are now in 
 familiar use ; many which were appropriately 
 used then in a dignified sense have lost rank, 
 and are now vulgar ; and many, again, have ac- 
 quired secondary meanings. The language of 
 this play is full of alliterations, conceits, mis- 
 erable antitheses, and tame circumlocutions. 
 " Hears with ears " is not unpardonable " af- 
 fectation," but who can endure 
 
 " With bouncing blowes be all be battered," 
 
 or what can be worse than the style of the 
 whole of the first speech in the third scene of 
 the fifth act ? 
 
 Jocasta is reprinted from George Steevens's 
 copy of the first edition of Gascoigne's Posies, 
 not dated, but published in 1572. According 
 to Chalmers, only two perfect copies of this 
 edition are known, one of which was in Stee- 
 vens's collection, the other in Emanuel College 
 library. 
 
XXXIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 These plays have been printed with scru- 
 pulous accuracy. It was designed at first to 
 make no alterations ; but the editor was after- 
 wards convinced that a good reason cannot be 
 given for such a course. A few corrections 
 have accordingly been made, in cases of abso- 
 lute certainty, and the editor now regrets that 
 he did not also reform the punctuation. The 
 scanty notes which are added are such as a 
 limited reading has at short notice supplied. 
 Even had leisure allowed of extensive re- 
 search, no American library could have fur- 
 nished many of the books necessary for such 
 illustration. 
 
 F. J. c. 
 
 August 22, 1848. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Page. 
 
 JACK JUGLER, ....... 1 
 
 THERSYTES, ....... 49 
 
 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE, .... 89 
 
 JOCASTA, 129 
 
 NOTES, 261 
 
 GLOSSARY, 273 
 
 INDEX, . 283 
 
 
 
Sacft %mlw* 
 
A new Enterlued for 
 
 Chyldren to playe, named Jacke Jiigeler, both 
 
 wytte, and very playsent. Newly 
 
 Imprented. 
 
 The Players names. 
 Mayster Boungrace A galant 
 
 Dame coye A Gentehvoman 
 
 Jacke Jugler The vyce 
 
 Jenkin careaway A Lackey 
 
 Ales trype and go A mayd. 
 
 
JACK JUGLER 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 nterpone tuis interdum gaudia curis 
 Vt possis ammo quemues sufferre laborem 
 Doo any of you knowe what latine is this 
 Or ells wold you haue, an expositorem 
 To declare it in Englyshe, per sensum planiorem 
 It is best I speake Englyshe, or ells with in a whylle 
 I may percace myne owne selfe, with my latin begUe. 
 
 The two verses, which I rehersid before 
 I finde written, in the boke of Cato the wyse 
 Emongs good precepts, of lyuing a thousand more 
 Which to folowe there, he doth all men auise 
 And they may be Englyshed, breflie in this wyse 
 Emongs thy earful busines, vse sume time mirth & ioye 
 That no bodily e worke, thy wyttes breke or noye. 
 1 
 
D JACK JUGLER. 
 
 For the mynd (saith he) in serious matters occupied 
 
 Yf it haue not sum quiet mirthe, and recreacion 
 
 Inter chaunge able admixed, must niddes be sone weried 
 
 And (as who should saye) tried, through continual operacion 
 
 Of labour and busines, without relaxacion 
 
 Therfore intermix honest mirthe, in suche wise 
 
 That your streght may be refreshid, & to labours suffise. 
 
 For as meat and drinke, naturall rest and slepe 
 
 For the conseruacion, and helth of the bodye 
 
 Must niddes be had, soo the mynd and wittes to kepe 
 
 Pregnant, freshe industrius, quike and lustie 
 
 Honest mirthe, and pastime, is requisite and necessarie 
 
 For, Quod caret alterna requie durabile non est 
 
 Nothing may endure (saith Ouid) with out sum rest. 
 
 Example, proufe her of in erth is well founde 
 
 Manifest open and verie euident 
 
 For except the husbandman suffer his grounde 
 
 Sum tymes to rest, it wol bere no frute verament 
 
 Therfore they lett the filde lye, euerie second yeare 
 
 To the end that after rest, it may the better corne beare. 
 
 Thus than (as I haue sayed) it is a thyng naturall 
 
 And naturallie belonging to all lyuing creatures 
 
 And vnto man especiallie, aboue others all 
 
 To haue at times coueniet pastaiice, mirthe, & pleasurs 
 
 So thei be ioyned w* honestie, and kept w* in due measurs 
 
 And the same well allowed not onlye the said Cato 
 
 But also y e Philosophers, Plutarke, Socrates & Plato. 
 
JACK JUGLER. 
 
 And Cicero Tullius, a man sapient and wyse 
 
 Willeth the same, in that his fyrst boke 
 
 Which he wrot, and entytulid, of an honest mans office 
 
 Who so is disposid thereupon to looke 
 
 Wher to define, and offirme, he boldlie on him tooke 
 
 That to here Enterluds, is pastime conuenient 
 
 For all maner men, and a thing congruent. 
 
 He rekeneth that namelie, as a verie honest disport 
 And above al other thinges, commendeth y e old comedie 
 The hearing of which, may doo the mynd cumfort 
 For they be replenished with precepts of Philosophie 
 The conteine mutch wisdome & teache prudet pollecie 
 And though thei be al write of mattiers of non importance 
 Yet the shew great wit, and mutch pretie conueiaunce. 
 
 And in this maner of making, Plautus did excell 
 
 As recordeth the same Tullius contending him bi name 
 
 Wherefore this maker deliteth passinglye well 
 
 Too folowe his argumentes, and drawe out the same 
 
 For to make at seasuns coueniet pastims mirth & game 
 
 As now he hath do this matter not worth an oyster shel 
 
 Except percace it shall furtune too make you laugh well. 
 
 And for that purpose onlye this maker did it write 
 
 Taking the ground therof out of Plautus first comedie 
 
 And the first scentence of y e same for higher things endite 
 
 In no wise he wold, for yet the time is so quesie 
 
 That he that speaketh best, is lest thanke worthie 
 
 Therfore, sith nothing but trifles maye be had 
 
 You shal here a thing j l onlie shal make you merie & glad. 
 
8 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 And suche a trifling matter as when it shalbe done 
 Ye may report and saye ye haue hearde nothing at all 
 Therfore I tell you all, before it be begone 
 That noman looke to heare of matters substancyall 
 Nor mattiers of any grauitee either great or small 
 For this maker shewed vs that suche maner thinges 
 Doo neur well besime litle boyes handelinges. 
 
 Wherfore yf ye wyl not sowrelie your broues bende 
 At suche a fantasticall conceite as this 
 But can be content to heare and see the ende 
 I woll go shew the Players what your pleasure is 
 Which to wait vpon you I know bee redie or this 
 I woll goo sende them hither in too your presence 
 Desiryng that they may haue quiet audience. 
 
 Jake Jugler 
 
 Our lord of Heuen and swete sainte Ihone 
 
 Rest you mery my maisters euerychone 
 
 And I praye to Christ and swete saint Steuen 
 
 Send you all many a good euine 
 
 And you to syr, and you, and you also 
 
 Good euine to you an hundered times & a thousand mo 
 
 Now by all thes crosses of fleshe bone and blod 
 
 I reckine my chaunce right maruaylus good 
 
 Here now to find all this cumpanie 
 
 Which in my mynde I wyshed for hartylie 
 
 For I haue labored all daye tyll I am werie 
 
JACK JUGLER. 
 
 And now am disposed too passe the time, and be merie 
 
 And I thinke noon of you, but he wolde do the same 
 
 For who wol be sad, and nedithe not, is foule to blame 
 
 And as for mee, of my mother I haue byn tought 
 
 To bee merie when I may, and take no thought 
 
 Which leasone, I bare so well awaye 
 
 That I vse to make mery oons a daye 
 
 And now if all thinges happyn right 
 
 You shall see as mad a pastime this night 
 
 As you saw this seuen yers and as propre a toye 
 
 As euer you saw played of a boye 
 
 I am called Jake Jugler, of many an oon 
 
 And in faith I woll playe a iugiing cast a non 
 
 I woll cunger the moull, and god before 
 
 Or elles leat me lese my name for euer more 
 
 I have it deuised, and compasced hou 
 
 And what wayes, I woll tell and shew to you 
 
 You all know well Maister Boungrace 
 
 The gentilman that dwellith here in this place 
 
 And Jenkine Careawaie, his page as cursed a lad 
 
 And as vngracious as euer man had 
 
 And vnhappy wage, & as folishe a knaue with al 
 
 As any is now, within London wall 
 
 This Jenkine and I been fallen at great debate 
 
 For a mattier, that fell betwine vs a late 
 
 And hitherto of him I could neuer reuenged be 
 
 For his maister mantaineth hi, & loueth not me 
 
 Albe it the very truth to tell 
 
 Nother of the both, knoweth me not verie well 
 
 But against al other boies, the sayd gentle man 
 
 Maynteyneth him, all that he can 
 
 But I shall set lytle by my wyte 
 
10 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 If I do not Jenkine this night requite 
 
 Ere I slepe Jenkine shall bee mete 
 
 And I trust to cume partlye out of his dete 
 
 And whan we mete againe, if this do not suffise 
 
 I shall paye Jenkine the residue, in my best wyse 
 
 It chaficed me right now in the other end of y e next stret 
 
 With Jenkine and his mayster, in the face to met 
 
 I aboed ther a whylle, playing for to see 
 
 At the Buklers, as welbecommed mee 
 
 It was not longe tyme, but at the last 
 
 Bake cumithe my cosune Careawaie, homward ful fast 
 
 Pricking, Praunsing, and springynge in his short cote 
 
 And pleasauntlie synginge, with a mery note 
 
 Whyther a waye so fast, tary a whyle sayed oon 
 
 I cannot now sayd Jenkine, I must nides bee goon 
 
 My Maister suppeth herbye, at a gentylmans place 
 
 And I must thither feache my dame, maistres bougrace 
 
 But yet er I go, I care not motche 
 
 At the bukelers to playe, with thee oon faire toche 
 
 To it they went, and played so long 
 
 Till Jenkine thought he had wrong 
 
 By cokes precious potstike, I wyll not home this night 
 
 Quod he, but as good a stripe oon thie hed lyght 
 
 Within halfe an houre, or sume what lese 
 
 Jenkine left playing, and went to featche his maisteris 
 
 But by the waye he met with a freuteres wyfe 
 
 There Jenkine and she fell at suche strife 
 
 For snatching of an apple, that doune he cast 
 
 Her basket, and gatherid vp the apples fast 
 
 And put them in his sleue, the came he his waye 
 
 By an other lane, as fast as he maye 
 
 tyll he came at a corner, by a shoops stall 
 
JACK JUGLER. 11 
 
 Where boyes were at Dice, faryng at all 
 
 When Careawaie with that good cumpany met 
 
 He fell to faryng, withouten let 
 
 Forgettyng his message, and so did he fare 
 
 that whan I came bye, he gan swere and stare 
 
 And full bitterlye, began to curse 
 
 As oone that had lost, almost all in his purse 
 
 For I knowe his olde gise, and condicion 
 
 Neuer to leaue, tyll all his mony bee goon 
 
 For he hath noo mony, but what he doth stell 
 
 And that woll he playe, awaye euery dell 
 
 I passed by, and then called vnto my mynd 
 
 Sartayne old rekeaninges, that were behynd 
 
 Bitwen Jenkine & me, who partlie to recopence 
 
 I trust by gods grace, ere I goo hence 
 
 This garments, cape, and all other geare 
 
 That now you see, apon me here 
 
 I haue doon oon, all lyke vnto his 
 
 For the nons, and my purpose is 
 
 To make Jenkine byliue yf I can 
 
 That he is not him selfe, but an other man 
 
 For except he hath better loke, than he had 
 
 He woll cum hyther, starke starving mad 
 
 Whan he shall cum, I wol handle my captiue so 
 
 That he shal not well wot, whether too goo 
 
 His Maisteris I know, she woll him blame 
 
 And his Mayster also, wyll doo the same 
 
 Because that she, of her supper decerned is 
 
 For I am sure they haue all supped by this 
 
 But and if Jenkine, wold hither resort 
 
 I trust he and I, should make sum sport 
 
 Yf I had sooner spokine, he wold haue sooner been here 
 
 For my simithe, I do his voyce heare. 
 
12 jack jugler. 
 
 Careawaye 
 A syr I may saye, I liaue been at a fest 
 I haue lost. ii. s. and syx pence at the lest 
 Mary syr, of this gaynes I nyde make no bost 
 But the dyuell goo with all, more haue I lost 
 My name is Careawaie, let all sorow passe 
 I woll ere too morow night be as rich as euer I was 
 Or at y e forthest within a day or twaine 
 Me Maysters purse, shall paye me agayne 
 Therfor hogh careawaie, now wol I sig hei hei 
 But bi y e lorde now I remembre a nother tiling 
 By my faith Jenkine my Maisteris and thou 
 Ar lyke to gree, god knoweth hou 
 That thou comest not, for her incontinent 
 To bryng hir to supper, when thou were sent 
 And now they haue all supped, thou wolt shurlie abye 
 Except thou imagine, sumpretie and crafty e lye 
 For she is as all other weomen bee 
 A verie cursed shrew, by the blessid Trinitie 
 And a verye Dyuell, for yf she oons begyne 
 To fyght, or chyde, in a weke she wol not lyne 
 And a great pleasure she hath, specyally now of late 
 To gette poore me, now and then by the pate 
 For she is an angrye pece of fleshe, and sone displeasyd 
 Quikely moued, but not lyghtlye appesed 
 We vse to call her at home, dame Coye 
 A pretie gingerlie pice, god saue her and saint Loye 
 As denty and nice, as an halpeny worth of siluer spoons 
 But vengable melancolie, in the after noons 
 She vseth for hir bodylie helth, and safegard 
 To chyd daylie oone fite, too supperward 
 And my Mayster himself, is worse then she 
 
 
JACK JUGLER. 13 
 
 If he ons throughlye angeryd bee 
 
 And a mayd we haue at home, Aulsoon tripe and goo 
 
 Not all London can shewe, suche other twoo 
 
 She simperith, she prankith and getteth without faylle 
 
 As a pecocke that hath spred, and sheweth hir gaye taile 
 
 Se minceth, she brideleth, she swimnieth to and fro 
 
 She tredith not one here a wrye, she tryppeth like a do 
 
 A brode in the strete, going or cumniing homward 
 
 She quauerith, and wardelith, like one in a galiard 
 
 Euerye ioynt in her bodye and euerie part 
 
 Oh it is a ioylie wenche to myns and deuyd a fart 
 
 She talketh, she chatteth like a Pye all daye 
 
 And speaketh like a parat Poppagaye 
 
 And that as fine, as a small silken threede 
 
 Ye and as high as an Eagle can fle for a neade 
 
 But it is a spitfull lying girle, and neuer well 
 
 But whan she may sum yll tael by me tel 
 
 She wol I warrant you, a non at the first 
 
 Of me immagine, and saye the worst, 
 
 And what soeuer she to my maisteris doth saye 
 
 It is writen in the gosspell of the same daye 
 
 Therfore I woll here with my selfe deuise 
 
 What I may best say, and in what wise 
 
 I may excuse this my long taryeng 
 
 Lat she of my negligence may suspect nothyng 
 For if the faulte of this be found in mee 
 I may giue my life for halpenis three. 
 
 \I£ic cogitabundo similis sedeat. 
 Let me stodie this moneth, and I shall not fiend 
 A better deuise then now is cume to my mynd 
 Maistries woll I saye, I am bound by my dutie 
 To see that your womanhod haue no iniurie 
 
14 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 For I heare and see, more then yon now and then 
 
 And your selfe partlie know the wantin wyles of men 
 
 When wee came yender, there dyd I see 
 
 My mayster kisse gentilwomen tow or three 
 
 And to come emongs others my thought bysye 
 
 He had a myruayllus great phantasye 
 
 A non he commaundyd me to run thens for you 
 
 To cume supe there if you wold but I wot not how 
 
 My hart grudgid mistrusting lest that I being awaye 
 
 My maister wold sum light cast playe 
 
 Wher vpon maistries, to se the ende 
 
 I tarried halfe supper time so god me mende 
 
 And besydes that there was such other compainye 
 
 As I know your maistrisship setteth nothing by 
 
 Gorges dames of the corte and galaunts also 
 
 With doctours, and other rufflers mo 
 
 At last when I thought it tyme and seasune 
 
 I cam too certifie you as it was reasune 
 
 And by the way whome should I mete 
 
 But that most honest Gentilman in the stret 
 
 Which the last wike was with you here 
 
 And made you a banket, and bouncing cheare 
 
 Ah Jenkin q d he good spid how farest thou 
 
 Mary wel god yld it you maister q d I how do you 
 
 How dothe thy maisteris is she at home 
 
 Ye syr q d I and suppeth all a lone 
 
 And but she hath noo maner good chere 
 
 I am sure she wold gladlye haue you there 
 
 I cannot cum now sayd he I haue busines 
 
 But thou shalt carie a tokine from me to thy maistreis 
 
 Goo with mee too my chambre at yone lane end 
 
 And I woll a dishe of costerds vnto hyr send 
 
JACK JUGLER. 15 
 
 I folowid him, and was bold by your leaue 
 
 To receiue and bring them here in my sleue 
 
 But I wold not for all Englond by Jhesu Chryst 
 
 That my maister Boungrace herof wyst 
 
 Or knew that I should any such geare to you bring 
 
 Lest he misdime vs both in sum worse thyng 
 
 Nor shew him nothyng of that I before sayed 
 
 For then in dyd syr I am arayed 
 
 Yf you doo I may nothing herafter vnto you tell 
 
 whether I se mi master doo ill or well 
 
 That if you now this counsaile kepe 
 
 I wol ease you parchaunce twise in a wike 
 
 you may saye you wer sike and your hed did ake 
 
 that you lusted not this night any supper make 
 
 Speciallye without the dores but thought it best 
 
 too abyde at home and take your rest 
 
 And I wyll to my maister too brying hym home 
 
 For you know he wolbe angrie if he come alone 
 
 this woll I saye and face it so well 
 
 That she shall beleue it euerye dell 
 
 How saye you frinds, by the armes of Bobyn hood 
 
 Wol not this excuse be resonable good 
 
 To muse for any beeter, great foly it is 
 
 For I may make sure rekenning of this 
 
 That and if I wold sit stooing this. vii. yere 
 
 I shall not ells find how to saue me all clere 
 
 And as you see for the most part our witts be best 
 
 When we be takyne most vnrediest 
 
 But I wol not giue for that boye a flye 
 
 That hath not al tymes in store one good lye 
 
 And cannot set a good face vpon the same 
 
 Therfore saint George y e boroue, as it wol let him frame 
 
16 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 I woll ieopard a ioynt, bee as bee maye 
 
 I haue had many lyke chaunces, before this daye 
 
 But I promise you I do curstlie feare 
 
 For I feel a vengeable burning in my left ere 
 
 And it hath byn a saying, of tyme long 
 
 That swete mete woll haue soure sauce among 
 
 And surely I shall haue sum ill hape 
 
 For my here standith vp vnder my cape 
 
 I would knocke but I dare not by our ladye 
 
 I feare hanging where vnto no man is hastie 
 
 But seing there is no nother remedie 
 
 Thus to stand any longer it is but folye. 
 
 \JIic pulset ostium. 
 They bee soo farre with in, the cannot heare 
 
 Jacke Jugler 
 Soft thy knoking saucie knaue, what makest thou there 
 
 Jenzen Careawaie 
 
 What knaue is that ? he speaketh not too me I trowe 
 And we mete the one of vs is lyke to haue a blowe 
 For no we that I am well chafed, and sumwhat hote 
 twentye suche could I hewe as small as fleshe to pote 
 And surelie if I had a knyfe 
 This knaue should escape hardelye with his lyfe 
 To teache him to aske of me any more 
 What I make at my owne maistirs doore 
 
 Jack Jugler 
 
 But if thou come from that gate thou knaue 
 
 I woll fet thee by the swet lookes so god me saue 
 
JACK JUGLER. 17 
 
 Jenkine Careawaie 
 Woll the horesoon fyght in dede by myn honestie 
 I know no quarell lie hath too me 
 But I wold I were with in the house 
 And then I wold not set by hym a louse 
 For I feare and mistrust such quareling thiues 
 See how he beginnith to strike vp his sleues 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 His arse makith buttens now, and who lustith to feale 
 
 Shall find his hart creping out at his heele 
 
 Or ells lying hiden in sum corner of his hose 
 
 Yf it be not alredie dropped out of his nose 
 
 For as I doubt not but you haue hard beforne 
 
 A more dastard couerd knaue was neuer borne 
 
 Jenkin Careawaie 
 
 The djuell set the house a fier, I trowe it is a curste 
 
 When a man hath most hast he spedith worst 
 
 Yf I bee robed, or slayne, or any harme geate 
 
 The fault is in them that dothe not me in lete 
 
 And I durst ieoperd, an hunderid pounde 
 
 That sum bauderie might now within be founde 
 
 But except sum of them come the soner 
 
 I shall knocke suche a peale, that al englond shal woder 
 
 Jake iugler 
 
 Knoke at the gate hardelye agayne if thou dare 
 And seing thou wolt not bye faire words beware 
 Now fistes, me thinketh yesterdaye. vii. yers past 
 That four men a sleepe at my fete you cast 
 And this same day you dyd no maner good 
 Nor were not washen in warme blod 
 2 
 
18 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 Jenkin Careawaie 
 What whorson is this that washith in warme blod 
 Sum diuell broken loose, out of hell for wood 
 Pour hath he slayne, and now well I see 
 That it must be my chaunce the fift to bee 
 But rather then thus shamfullye too be slayne 
 Wold Christ my frends had hanged me being but yers. ii. 
 And yet if I take good hart and be bolde 
 Percace he wolbe more sobre and coulde 
 
 Jake iugler 
 
 Now handes bestur you about his lyppes and face 
 And streake out all his teth without any grace 
 Gentleman are you disposed to eate any fist mete 
 
 Jenkin Careawaye 
 
 I haue supped I thanke you syr and lyste not to eate 
 Geue it to them that are haungrie if you be wyse 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 Yet shall do a man of your dyet no harme to suppe twise 
 This shalbe your Chise, to make your met digest 
 For I tell you thes handes weighith of the best 
 
 Jenkin Careawaye 
 I shall neuer escape see how he waghith his handes 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 with a stroke they wyll lay a knaue in our ladye boons 
 And this day yet they haue done no good at all 
 
 Jenkine Careawaye 
 Ere y u assaye the on mee, I praie thee lame the on y e wal 
 
JACK JUGLER. 19 
 
 But speake you all this in earnest, or in game 
 Yf you be angrie with me trulye you are to blame 
 For haue you any iust quarrell to mee 
 
 Jake iugler 
 Eer thou and I parte that wol I shew thee 
 
 Jenkin Careawaye 
 Or haue I doone you any maner displeasure 
 
 Jake iugler 
 Ere thou and I parte thou shalt know, y u maist besure 
 
 Jenkin Careawaye 
 
 By my faith yf thou be angrie without a cause 
 
 You shall haue a mendes made with a cople of straus 
 
 By thee I sette what soeuer thou arte 
 
 But for thy displeasure I care not a farte 
 
 May a man demaund whose seruant you bee 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 My maisters seruaunt I am for veritie 
 
 Jenkin Careawaye 
 What busynes haue you at thys place now 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 Nay mary tell me what busynes hast thou 
 
 For I am commaunded for to watche & giue diligence 
 
 That in my good maister Boungraces absence 
 
 Noo misfortune may happen to his house sertayne 
 
20 jack jugler. 
 
 Jenkin Careawaye 
 well now I am cume, you may go hens agayne 
 And thanke them y l somuch for my maister hath doone 
 Shewing them y l the seruants of y e house be cume home 
 For I am of the house, and now in woll I goo 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 I cannot tell whether thou be of the house or noo 
 But goo no nere, lest I handle thee like a strainger 
 Thanke no man but thyselfe, if thou be in any daunger 
 
 Jenkine Careawaye 
 
 Marye I defye thee, and planly vnto thee tell 
 
 That I am a seruaunt of this house, and here I dwell 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 Now soo god me snache, but thou goo thee waies 
 
 Whille thou mayest, for this fortie dayes 
 
 I shall make thee not able to goo nor ryde 
 
 But in a dungcart or a whilberow liyng on on syde 
 
 Jenken Careawaie 
 T am a seruaunt of this house by thes. x. bons 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 Noo more prating but geat thee hens at towns 
 
 Jenkin Careawaye 
 Why my master hath sent me home in his message 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 Pike and walke a knaue, here a waye is no passage 
 
jack jugler. 21 
 
 Jenkin Careawaie 
 What wilt thou let me from mj nowne maistirs house 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 Be tredging, or in faith you bere me a souse 
 Here my mayster and I haue our habitacion 
 And hath continually dwelled in this mansyon 
 At the least this doosen yers and od 
 And here wol we end our lyues by the grace of god 
 
 Jenkin Careawaye 
 Why then where shall my maister and I dwell 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 At the Dyuell yf you lust, I can not tell 
 
 Jenken Careawaye 
 
 In nomine patris, now this geare doth passe 
 For a litel before supper here our house was 
 And this day in y e morning I wol on a boke swer 
 That my maister and I both dwelleyd here 
 
 Jake iugler 
 
 Who is thy mayster tell me with out lye 
 And thine owne name also let me knowe shortlie 
 For my maysters all, let me haue the blame 
 Yf this knaue kno his master or his owne name 
 
 Careawaye 
 My maisters name is maister Boungrace 
 I haue dwelled with him a longe space 
 And I am ienkin Careawaye his page 
 
 2* 
 
22 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 Jakeiugler 
 What ye drunkin knaue begin you to rage 
 Take that, art thou maister Boungracis page 
 
 I Careawaie 
 
 Yf I be not, I haue made a verye good viage 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 Darest thou too my face say thou art I 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 I wolde it were true and no lye 
 
 For then thou sholdest smart, and I should bet 
 
 Where as now I do all the blowes get 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 And is maister Boungrace thy maister doest y u then saye 
 
 Careawaye 
 I woll swere on a booke, he was ons this daye 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 And for that thou shalt sum what haue 
 
 Because thou presumest, like a saucye lying knaue 
 
 To saye my maister is thyne who is thy maister now ? 
 
 Careawaie 
 
 By my trouthe syr who so euer please you 
 I am your owne, for you bete me soo 
 As no man but my mayster sholde doo 
 
 Jake iugler 
 I woll handle thee better if faut be not in fyst 
 
JACK JUGLER. 23 
 
 Careawaie 
 Helpe saue my life maisters for y e passion of christ 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 Why thou lowsy thefe doest thou crye and rore 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 No fayth I woll not crye one whit more 
 Saue my lyfe helpe, or I am slaine 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 Ye doest thou make a romeringe yet a gayne 
 Dyd not I byde the holde thy peace 
 
 Careawaie 
 In faith now I. leave crieng, now I sease helpe, helpe 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 Who is thy maister 
 
 Careawaye 
 Mayster Boungrace 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 I woll make the chaung j l song, ere wee pas this place 
 For he is my maister, and a gaine to thee I saye 
 That I am his ienkin Careawaye 
 Who art thou now tell me plaine 
 
 Careawaye 
 Noo bodye, but whome please you sertayne 
 
24 jack jugler. 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 Thou saydest euen now thy name was Careawaie 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 I crye you marcy syr, and forgiuenes praye 
 
 I said a mysse because it was soo too daye 
 
 And thought it should haue continued alwaies 
 
 Like a fole as I am and a dronken knaue 
 
 But in faith syr yee se alle the wytte I haue 
 
 Therfore I beseche you do me no more blame 
 
 But giue me a new maister, and an other name • 
 
 For it wold greue my hart soo helpe me god 
 
 To runne a bout the stretes like a maisterlis nod 
 
 Jake iugler 
 
 I am he that thou saydest thou were 
 
 And maister boungrace is my maister y l dweleth heare 
 
 thou art no poynt Careawaye thi witts do thee faylle 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 Ye mary syr you haue bette them doune into my taylle 
 But syr myght I be bolde to say on thyng 
 Without any bloues, and without any beatynge 
 
 Jake iugler 
 Truce for a whyle say one what thy lust 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 May a man too your honeste by your woord trust 
 I pray you swere by the masse you woll do me no yll 
 
 IACKE IUGLER 
 
 By my faith I promise pardone thee I woll 
 
jack jugler. 25 
 
 Careawaye 
 What and you kepe no promise 
 
 Ja itjgler 
 
 then vpo cai 
 I praie god light as much or more as hath on y e to daye 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 Now dare I speake so mote I thee 
 
 Maister boungrace is my maister, and the name of mee 
 
 is ienken careaway 
 
 IACKE IUGLER 
 
 What saiest thou soo 
 
 CAREAWAYE 
 
 And yf thou wilt strike me, and breake thy promise, doo 
 And beate on. mee, tyll I stinke, and tyll I dye 
 And yet woll I still saye that I am I 
 
 IACKE ITJGLER 
 
 This bedlem knaue without dought is mad 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 No by god for all that I am a wyse lad 
 And can call to rememberaunce euery thynge 
 That I dyd this daye, sithe my vprisynge 
 For went not I wyth my mayster to daye 
 Erly in the morning to the Tenis playe ? 
 At noone whyle my maister at his dynner sate 
 Played not I at Dice at the gentylmans gate 
 Did not I wayte on my maister to supper ward 
 And I thlke I was not chauged y e way howard 
 
26 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 Or ells if thou thinke I lye 
 
 Aske in the stret of them that I came hje 
 
 And sith that I cam hether into your presens 
 
 what man lyuing could carye me hens 
 
 I remember I was sent to fetche my maisteris 
 
 And what I deuised to saue me harmeles 
 
 Doo not I speake now [is] not this my hande 
 
 Be not these my feet j l on this ground stand ? 
 
 Did not this other knaue her knoke me about y e hede ? 
 
 And beat me tyll I was almost dede ? 
 
 How may it then bee, that he should bee I ? 
 
 Or I not my selfe it is a shamfull lye ? 
 
 I woll home to our house, whosoeuer say naye 
 
 For surelye my name is ienken Careawaye 
 
 Jacke Jugler 
 I wol make thee say otherwise ere we depart if we can 
 
 Jenkin Careawaye 
 
 Nay that woll I not in faith for no man 
 Except thou tell me what I thou hast doone 
 Euer syth fiue of the cloke this afternoone 
 Reherse me all that without anye lye 
 And then I woll confesse that thou art I 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 When my maister came to the gentylmas place 
 He comaunded me too rune home a great pace 
 To fet thyther my maisteris and by the waye 
 I dyd a good whyle at the bukelers playe 
 Then came I by a wife that did costerds sell 
 And caste downe her basket fayre and well 
 
JACK JUGLER. 27 
 
 And gathered as many as I could gete 
 
 And put theim in my sleue here they bee yet 
 
 Careawaie 
 
 How the diuell should they cume there 
 
 For I dyd them all in my owne sleue bere 
 
 He lyeth not a worde in all this 
 
 Nor dothe in any one poynt myse 
 
 For ought I se yet betwene erneste and game 
 
 I must go sike me a nother name 
 
 But thou mightest see al this, tel the rest that is behind 
 
 And there I know I shal thee a Iyer fynd 
 
 JACKE 1UGLER 
 
 I ran thence homeward a contrarye waye 
 And whether I stoped there or naye 
 I could tell if me lusteth a good token 
 But it may not very well be spoken 
 
 Jenkin Careawaye 
 
 Noo may I praye thee let no man that here 
 But tell it me priuelye in mine ere 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 I thou lost all thy mony at dice christ giue it his curse 
 wel and truelye pycked before out of an other mas porse 
 
 Jenken Careawaie 
 
 Godes bodye horeson thefe who tolde thee that same 
 Sum cunning diuell is with in thee payne of shame 
 In nomine patris, god and our blessed ladye 
 Now and euermore saue me from thy cumpanye 
 
 I 
 
28 
 
 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 How now art thou Careawaye or not 
 
 Careawaye 
 By the lorde I doubt, but sayest thou nay to that 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 Ye mary I tell thee care awaye is my name 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 And by these tene bones myne is the same 
 
 Or ells tell me yf I be not hee 
 
 "What my name from hensforth shall bee 
 
 IACKE IUGLER 
 
 By my fayth the same that it was before 
 Whan I lust too be Careawaye no more 
 Looke well vpon me, and thou shalt see as now 
 That I am ienkyne Careawaye and not thou 
 Looke well a pon me, and by euerye thyng 
 Thou shalt well know that I make no leasing 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 I se it is soo without any doubte 
 
 But how the dyuell came it aboute 
 
 Who soo in England lokethe on him stedelye 
 
 Sail perceiue plainlye that he is I 
 
 I haue sene my selfe a thousand times in a glasse 
 
 But soo lyke myselfe as he is neuer was 
 
 He hath in euerye poynt my clothing & mi geare 
 
 My hed, my cape, my shirt and notted heare 
 
 And of the same coloure, my yes, nose and lyppes 
 
 
JACK JUGLER. 29 
 
 My chekes chine, neake, feete, leges, and hippes 
 
 Of the same stature, and hyght and age 
 
 And is in euery poynt maister Boungrace page 
 
 That if he haue a hole in his tayle 
 
 He is euen I myne owne selfe without any faile 
 
 And yet when I remembre I wot not how 
 
 The same ma y l I haue euer bine me thinkith I am now 
 
 I know mi maister, & his house, & my fiue witts I haue 
 
 Why then should I giue credence to this folishe knaue 
 
 That nothing entendith but me delude and mooke 
 
 For whom should I feare at my masters gate to knoke 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 Thinkest thou I haue sayde all this in game 
 
 Goo or I shall send the hens in the dyuills name 
 
 A voyde thou lousy e lurden & precious stinking slaue 
 
 that nether thi name knowest nor canst ani maister haue 
 
 wine shakin, pilorye peepours, of lice not w*out a pecke 
 
 Hens or by gods precious I shall breake thy necke 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 Then mayster I besiche you hartylye take the payne 
 Yf I be found in any place too bringe me to me againe 
 Now is not this a wonderfull case 
 That no man should lease him selfe soo in ony place 
 Haue any of you harde of suche a thyng here to fore 
 No nor neuer shall I dare saie from hensforth any more 
 
 Jacke iugler 
 
 Whyle he museth an iudgeth him selfe apon 
 I woll stele a weye for a whyle and let him a loon 
 3 
 
30 
 
 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 Careawaie 
 Good lorde of heuine, where dyd I my selfe leaue 
 Or who did me of my name by the waye bereue 
 For I am sure of this in my mynde 
 That I dyd in no place leue my selfe byhinde 
 Yf I had my name played a waye at dyce 
 Or had sold my selfe to any man at a pryce 
 Or had made a fray and had lost it in fyghtyng 
 Or it had byne stolne from me sleaping 
 It had byne a matter and I wold haue kept pacience 
 But it spiteth my hart to haue lost it by such open negligence 
 Ah thou horesone drousie drunken sote 
 Yt were an almes dyde to walke thy cote 
 And I shrew him that wold for thee be sorye 
 Too see thee well curryed by and by 
 And by Chryst if any man wold it doo 
 I my selfe wold helpe there too 
 For a man may see thou horesone goose 
 Thou woldest lyse thyne arse if it were loose 
 Albeit I wold neuer the dyde beleue 
 But that the thing it selfe doth shewe and pryue 
 There was neuer Ape so lyke vnto an Ape 
 As he is to me in feature, and shape 
 But what woll my maister say trowe ye 
 "When he shall this geare here and see 
 "Wyl he know me thinke you, when he shal se me 
 Yf he do not another woll as good as he 
 But where is that other I ? whether is he gon 
 To my mayster by cockes precius passion 
 Eyther to put me out of my place 
 Or too accuse me to my maister Boungrace 
 But I woll after as fast as I can flee 
 
JACK JUGLER. 
 
 31 
 
 I trust to be there as soone as hee 
 
 That yf my mayster be not redye home to come 
 
 I woll be here agayne as fast as I can rune 
 
 In any wyse to speake with my mayteris 
 
 Or ells I shall neuer escape hanging dubtles 
 
 Dame Coye 
 
 I shall not suppe this night fall wel I see 
 
 For as yet noo bodie cumithe for to fet mee 
 
 But good ynough let me alone 
 
 I woll bee euen with them euery chone 
 
 I saye nothing, but I thinke sum what I wis 
 
 Sum ther bee that shall here of this 
 
 Of al vnkind & churlishe husbands this is y e cast 
 
 To let ther wyues set at home and fast 
 
 While they bee forth and make good cheare 
 
 Pastime, and sporte, as now he doth there 
 
 But yf I were a wyse woman, as I am a mome 
 
 I shold make my selfe as good chere at home 
 
 But if he haue thus vnkindlye serued mee 
 
 I woll not forget it this monethis three 
 
 And if I west y e fault were in him, I pray god I be ded 
 
 But he shoulde haue suche a kyrie, ere he went too bed 
 
 I As he neuer had before in all his lyfe 
 Nor any man ells haue had of his wyfe 
 I wolde rate him and shake him after such a sorte 
 ----- 
 I! 
 
 Alls tpjppe and goo 
 
 r f I may be so bolde by your maisteriships lycens 
 As too speake and shew my mynde and sentence 
 I thinke of this you may the boye thanke 
 
32 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 For I know that lie playeth you many a lyke pranke 
 
 And that wolde you saye, yf you knew as mutch as wee 
 
 That his dayly conuersation and byhauiore see 
 
 For yf you commaund him to goo speake with sum one 
 
 Yt is an houre ere he wolbe gone 
 
 Then woll he rune forth, and playe in the strete 
 
 And cume a gaine and say that he cannot with him mete 
 
 Dame Coye 
 
 Naye, naye, it is his maisters playe 
 
 He seruithe me soo almost euerye third daye 
 
 But I wolbe euen with him as god geue me ioy 
 
 And yet the fault may bee in the boye 
 
 As vngracious a graft so mot I thriue 
 
 As any goeth on goddes ground a lyue 
 
 Care aw aye 
 
 My witte is breched in suche a brake 
 
 That I cannot deuise what way is best to take 
 
 I was almost as fare as my maister is 
 
 But then I begane to remember this 
 
 And to cast the worst as on in fere 
 
 Yf he chaunce to see mee and kepe me there 
 
 Till he cum him selfe, & speake with mi masteris 
 
 Then am I lyke to bee in shrewd dystres 
 
 Yet were I better thought I to turne horn again 
 
 And fyrst speake wyth her certayne 
 
 Cockes bodie yonder she standeth at the dore 
 
 Now is it wourse then it was before 
 
 Wold christ I could get againe out of hir sight 
 
 For I see be her looke she is diposid to fyght 
 
 Bi y e lord she hath ther an angrie shrewes loke 
 
jack jugler. 33 
 
 Dame coye 
 Loo yender cumithe that vnhappye hooke 
 
 Careawaye 
 God saue me maysteris doo you know me well 
 
 Dame coye 
 
 Cume nere hither vnto mee, and I shall thee tell 
 
 Why thou noughtie vyllan is that thy gyse 
 
 To gest with thy maisteris in suche wise 
 
 take that to begyne with, and god before 
 
 When thy maister cumith home thou shalt haue more 
 
 For he told me when he forth wente 
 
 That thou shouldest cume bake a gaine incontinente 
 
 To brynge me to supper where he now is 
 
 And thou hast plaid by the waie, & thei haue don bi this 
 
 But no force I shall thou mayst trust mee 
 
 Teache all naughtie knaues to beware by thee 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 For sothe maisteris yf you knew as much as I 
 
 Ye woulde not bee with me half so angrie 
 
 For the faulte is neither in mi maister nor in me nor you 
 
 But in an other knaue that was here euen now 
 
 And his name was ienkin Careawaie 
 
 Dame coye 
 
 What I see my man is diposid to playe 
 
 I wine he be dronken or mad I make god a vou 
 
 Careawaie 
 
 Nay I haue byn made sobre and tame I now 
 
 3* 
 
34 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 I was neuer so handelid before in all my lyfe 
 
 I would euery man in England had so beat me his wife 
 
 I haue forgotten with tousing by the here 
 
 What I deuised to say a lytle ere 
 
 Dame coye 
 Haue I lost my supper this night through thi negligece 
 
 Careawaye 
 Nay then wer I a knaue misteris, sauing your reuerece 
 
 Dame coye 
 Why I am sure that by this time it is doone 
 
 Careawaye 
 Ye that it is more then an our agone 
 
 Dame coye 
 And was not thou sent to feache mee theyther 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 Yes and had cume right quiklie hither 
 
 But that by the waye I had a gret fall 
 
 And my name, body shape legges and all 
 
 And meat with one, that from me did it stelle 
 
 But be god he and I sum bloues dyd deale 
 
 I wolde he were now before your gate 
 
 For you wold poumile him ioylile a bout the pate 
 
 Dame Coye 
 Truelye this wage pastie is either drunken or mad 
 
JACK JUGLER. 35 
 
 Careawaye 
 Neuer man soffred so mutche wrong as I had 
 But maisteris I should saye a thinge to you 
 Tary it wol cum to my remembrence euen now 
 I must niddes vse a substanciall premeditacion 
 For the matter lyeth gretylie-me a pon 
 I besiche your maisterishipe of pardon and forgiuenes 
 Desyering you to impute it to my simple & rude dulines 
 I haue forgotten what I haue thought to haue sayed 
 And am therof full ill a paied 
 But whan I lost myselfe I knew verie well 
 I lost also that I should you tell 
 
 Dame Coye 
 
 Why thou wrechid villen doest thou me scorne and moke 
 To make me to these folke a laufying stocke 
 Ere thou go out of my handes y e shalt haue sum thynge 
 And I woll rekine better in the mornynge 
 
 Careawaie 
 
 And yf you bete mee maysteris a vise you 
 For I am none of your seruauntes now 
 That other I is now your page 
 And I am no longer in your bondage 
 
 Dame Coye 
 
 Now walke precious thife get thee out of my syght 
 And I charge thee cum in my presens no more this night 
 Get thee hens and wayte on thy maister at ons 
 
 Careawaie 
 Mary syr this is handeling for the noons 
 
36 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 I wold I had byn hanged before y l I was lost 
 I was neuer this canuased and tost 
 That if my maister on his part also 
 Handle me as my maisteris and the other I do 
 I shall surelye be killed bitwine theim thre 
 And all the diuels in hell shal not saue me 
 But yet if the other I might haue w 1 me parte 
 All this wold neuer greue my harte 
 
 Jacke iitgler 
 
 How saye you maisters I pray you tell 
 
 Haue not I requited my marchent well 
 
 Haue not I handelyd hym after a good sort 
 
 Had it not byne pytie to haue lost this sporte 
 
 A none his maister on his behalphe 
 
 You shall see how he woll handle the calphe 
 
 yf he throughlye angered bee 
 
 He woll make him smart so mot I thee 
 
 I wolde not for the price of a new payre of shone 
 
 That any parte of this had bynne vndune 
 
 But now I haue reuenged my quarell 
 
 I woll go do of this myne apparell 
 
 And now let Careawaye be Careawaye againe 
 
 I haue done with that name now certayne 
 
 Except perauenture I shall take the selfe same wede 
 
 Sum other tyme agayne for a like cause and nede 
 
 Boungrace 
 
 Why then darist thou to presume too tell me 
 That I know is no wyse possible for to bee 
 
 Careawaye 
 Now by my truth master I haue told you no He 
 
JACK JUGLER. 37 
 
 And all these folkes knowith as well as I 
 
 I had no sooner knoked at the gate 
 
 But straight wayes he had me by the pate 
 
 Therefore yf you bet me tyll I fart & shyt againe 
 
 You shall not cause me for any payne 
 
 But I woll affirme as I said before 
 
 That when I came nere a nother stode at j l dore 
 
 BOITNGRACE 
 
 Why y u naughty e villaine dares t y u affirme to me 
 that which was neuer sene nor hereafter shalbe 
 That one man may haue too bodies & two faces 
 And y l one man at on time may be in too placis 
 Tell me drankest thou any where by the waye 
 
 Careawaie 
 
 I shreue me if I drake any more the twise to day 
 
 Tyll I met euen now with that other I 
 
 And with him I supped and dranke truelye 
 
 But as for you yf you gaue me drinke and meat 
 
 As oftentymes as you do me beat 
 
 I were the best fed page in all this Cytie 
 
 But as touchyng that, you haue on me no pitye 
 
 And not onlye I but all that do you sarue 
 
 For meat and drynke may rather starue 
 
 BOITNGRACE 
 
 What you saucye malypert knaue 
 Begine you with your maister to prat and raue 
 Your tonge is lyberall and all out of frame 
 I must niddes counger it and make it tame 
 wher is y l other Careawai y 1 thou said was here 
 
38 
 
 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 Caeeawaye 
 Now by my chrystendome syr I wot nere 
 
 Boungrace 
 Why canst thou fynde no man to moke but mee 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 I moke you not maister soo mot I thee 
 Euerye word was trew that I you tolde 
 
 Boungrace 
 
 Nay I know toyes and pranke of old 
 
 And now thou art not satisfyed nor content 
 
 without regarde of my biddinges and commaudiment 
 
 To haue plaied by the waie as a leude knaue & negliget 
 
 When I thee on my message home sent 
 
 But also woldest willinglye me delude k moke 
 
 And make me to all wyse men a laughyng stoke 
 
 shewing me suche thinges as in no wise be maie 
 
 To y e intent thy leudnes mai turne to iest & play 
 
 Therfore if y u speake any such thing to me agaie 
 
 I promyse it shalbe vnto thy payne 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 Loo is not he in myserable case 
 That sarueth suche a maister in any place 
 that with force wol compel him y l thing to denie 
 That he knoweth true, and hath sine w l his ye 
 
 Boungrace 
 Was it not troiest thou thine owne shadoo 
 
JACK JUGLER. 39 
 
 Careawaye 
 My shadoo could neuer haue beten mee soo 
 
 BoUNGRACE 
 
 Why by what reason possible may suche a thyng bee 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 Nay I maruael and wonder at it more than ye 
 
 And at the fyrst it dyd me curstelye meaue 
 
 Nor I wold myne owne yes in no wyse belyue 
 
 Vntyll that other I beate me soo 
 
 That he made me beliue it whither i wold or no 
 
 And if he had your selfe now within his reache 
 
 He wold make you say so too or ells beshite your breach 
 
 Maister Boungrace 
 
 I durst a good mede, and a wager laye 
 
 That thou laiest doune and sleppest by the waie 
 
 And dremid all this that thou haste me tolde 
 
 Careawaie 
 
 Naye there you lye master if I might be so bold 
 
 But we ryse so erlye that yf I hadde 
 
 T hadde doone well and a wyse ladde 
 
 Yet mayster I wolde you vnder stood 
 
 That I haue all wayes byn trusty and good 
 
 And flye as fast as a bere in a cage 
 
 When so euer you sende me in your message 
 
 in faythe as for this that I haue tolde you 
 
 I sawe and felte it as waking as I am nowe 
 
 For I had noo soner knocked at the gate 
 
 But the other I knaue had mee by the pate 
 
40 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 And I durst to you one a boke swere 
 That he had byn watching for mee there 
 Longe ere I came hyden in sum pryuye place 
 Euen for the nons to haue me by the face 
 
 Maister boungrace 
 Why then thou speakest not with my wyfe 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 No that I dyd not maister by my lyfe 
 Vntyll that other I was gone 
 And then my maisteris sent me after a none 
 To waight on you home in the dyuelles name 
 I wene the dyuell neuer so beate his dame 
 
 Maister bottngrace 
 And where became that other Careawaye 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 By myne honestie syr I cannot saye 
 
 But I warrant he is now not far hens 
 
 He is here amonge this cumpany for xl. pens 
 
 Maister bottngrace 
 
 Hence at tonce sike and smell him out 
 I shall rape thee on the lying knaues snought 
 I woll not bee deludyd with such a glosing lye 
 Nor giue credens tyll I see it with my oune iye 
 
 Careawaie 
 
 Trulye good syr by your maistershipps fauoure 
 I cannot well fynd a knaue by the sauoure 
 
JACK JUGLER. 41 
 
 Many here smell strong but none so rank as he 
 A stronger sented knaue then he was cannot bee 
 But syr yf he be happelye founde anone 
 what a meds shal I haue for y l you haue me don 
 
 Maister boungrace 
 If he may be found I shall walke his cote 
 
 Careawaie 
 
 Ye for our ladi sake syr I bisiche you spare hi not 
 
 For it is sum false knaue withouten doubt 
 
 I had rather the. xl. pens we could find him out 
 
 For yf a man maye beliue a glase 
 
 Euin my verie oune selfe it was. 
 
 And here he was but euyn right now 
 
 And steped a waye sodenlie I wat not how 
 
 of such a other thig I haue nether nard ne sene 
 
 By our blyssyd lady heauen quene 
 
 ■- 
 
 Maister boungrace 
 
 Plainelye it was thy shadow that thou didest se 
 'or in faith the other thyng is not possible to be 
 
 Careawaye 
 
 Yes in good faith syr by your leaue 
 I know it was I by my apples in my sleue 
 And speakith as like me as euer you harde 
 Suche here, such a Cape, such Hose and cote 
 And hi eueri thing as iust as. iiii. pens to a grot 
 That if he were here you should well see 
 That you could not discern nor know hi fro me 
 For thinke you that I do not my selfe knowe 
 4 
 
42 
 
 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 I am not so folishe a knaue I trowe 
 
 Let who woll looke him by and by 
 
 And he woll depose vpon a boke that he is I 
 
 And I dare well say yon woll saye the same 
 
 For he called hym selfe by my owne name 
 
 And he tolde me all that I haue done 
 
 Sith fyue of the cloke this after none 
 
 He could tell when you were to supper sete 
 
 you send me home my maisteris to fete 
 
 And shewed me al thinges that I dyd by y e waie 
 
 Boungrace 
 What was that 
 
 Careawaie 
 
 How I dyd at the Bukelers playe 
 And wha I scaterid a basket of apples fro a stal 
 And gethered them into my sleue all 
 And how I played after that also 
 
 Boungrace 
 
 Thou shalt haue by therfore so mote I go 
 
 Is that the guise of a trustie page 
 
 To playe when he is sent on his maisters message 
 
 Dame coye 
 
 Laye on and spare not for the loue of chryst 
 
 Joll his hed to a post, and fauoure your fyste 
 
 Now for my sake swete hart spare & fauoure your hand 
 
 And lay him about the rybbes with this wande 
 
 Careawaye 
 Now marcy that I aske of you both twaine 
 
JACK JUGLER. 43 
 
 Saue my lyfe and let me not be slayne 
 
 I haue had beting ynough for one daye 
 
 That a mischife take the other me Careawaye 
 
 That if euer he cume to my handes agayne 
 
 I wis it shalbe to his payne 
 
 But I maruayll greatlye by our lorde Jhesus 
 
 How he I escapid, I me beat me thus 
 
 And is not he I an vnkind knaue 
 
 That woll no more pytie on my selfe haue 
 
 Here may you see, euidentlye ywis 
 
 That in him me no drope of honestie is 
 
 Now a vengaiice light on suche a churles knaue 
 
 That no more loue toward my selfe haue 
 
 Dame coye 
 
 I knewe verye swite hart & saied right now 
 That no fault therof should be in you 
 
 BoiTNGRACE 
 
 No truelye good bedfelow, I were then mutch vnkinde 
 yf you at any tyme should be out of my mynde 
 
 Dame Coy 
 
 Surelye I haue of you a great treasure 
 
 For you do all thinges which may be to my pleasure 
 
 Boungrace 
 
 I am sory that your chaunce hath now byne so yll 
 I wolde gladly byne vnsupped, soo you had your fyll 
 But goo we in pigesnie that you may suppe 
 you haue cause now to thanke this same hange vppe 
 For had not he byne you had faryd very well 
 
44 
 
 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 Dame Coye 
 I bequefch hini w l a hot vengaunce to the diuell of hell 
 And hartelye I besiche him that hanged on the rode 
 That he neuer eate nor drynke, that may do him good 
 And that he dye a shamefull dethe sauing my cheryte 
 
 Caeeawaie 
 
 I pray god send him suche prosperitie 
 
 That hath caused me to haue all this busines 
 
 But yet syrs you see the charitye of my maistris 
 
 She liueth after a wonderfull charitable facion 
 
 For I assure you she is alwayes in this passion 
 
 And scacelye on daye throughout the hole yere 
 
 She woll wyshe any man better chere 
 
 And sum tyme yf she well angred bee 
 
 I pray god (woll she saye) y s house may sinke vnder mee 
 
 But maysters yf you happen to see that other I 
 
 As that you shall it is not verye likelye 
 
 Nor I woll not desyre you for him purposelye to looke 
 
 For it is an vncomperable vnhappye hooke 
 
 And if it be I, you might happin to seeke 
 
 And not fynd me out in an hole weeke 
 
 For whan I was wonte to rune a waye 
 
 I vsed not to cum a gayne in lesse tha a moneth or tway 
 
 Houbeit for all this I thinke it be not I 
 
 For to shew the matter in dyde trulye 
 
 I neuer vse to rune awaye in wynter nor in vere 
 
 But all wayes in suche tyme and season of the yere 
 
 When honye lyeth in the hiues of Bees 
 
 And all maner frute falleth from the trees 
 
 As apples, Nuttes, Peres, and plummes also 
 
 Wherby a boye maye hue a brod a moneth or two 
 
JACK JUGLER. 45 
 
 This cast do I vse I woll not with you fayne 
 
 Therfore I wonder if he be I sertaine 
 
 But and if he be, and you mete me a brod by chaunce 
 
 Send me home to my maister with a vengaunce 
 
 And shew him if he cume not ere to morowe night 
 
 I woll neuer receyue him agayne if I myght 
 
 And in the meane time I woll giue him a grote 
 
 That woll well and thryftelye walke his cote 
 
 For a more vngracious knaue is not euen now 
 
 Bytwene this place and Calycow 
 
 Nor a more frantike mad knaue in bedelem 
 
 Nor a more folle hence to Jherusalem 
 
 That if to cume agayne, parcase he shall refuse 
 
 I woll continew as I am and let hym choose 
 
 And but he cum the soner by our lady bright 
 
 He shall lye without the dores all nyght 
 
 For I woll shit vp the gate, and get me to bede 
 
 For I promisse you I haue a very gydie hede 
 
 I nede no supper for this nyght 
 
 Nor wolde eate no meat though I myght 
 
 And for you also maister I thmke I best 
 
 you go to bede, and take your rest 
 
 For who of you had byn handelid as I haue ben 
 
 wold not be long out of his bede I ween 
 
 No more woll I but stele out of syght 
 
 I praye god geue you all good nyght 
 
 And send you better hape and fortune 
 
 The to lesse your selfe homeward as I haue don 
 
46 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 Surnwhat it was sayeth the prouerbe olde 
 
 That the Catte winked when here iye was out 
 
 That is to saye no tale can be tolde 
 
 But that sum Englyshe niaye be piked therof out 
 
 yf so to serche the laten & ground of it men wil go aboute 
 
 As this trifling enterlud y l before you hath bine rehersed 
 
 May signifie sum further meaning if it be well serched 
 
 Such is the fashyon of the worlde now a dayes 
 
 That the symple innosaintes ar deluded 
 
 And an hundred thousand diuers wayes 
 
 By suttle and craftye meanes shamefullie abused 
 
 And by strength force, and violence oft tymes compelled 
 
 To beliue and saye the moone is made of a grene chese 
 
 Or ells haue great harme, and parcace their life lese 
 
 And an olde saying it is, that most tymes myght 
 Force, strength, power, & colorable subtlete 
 Dothe oppresse, debare, ouercum and defeate ryght 
 Though y e cause stand neuer so greatlye a gainst equite 
 and y e truth therof be knowe for neuer so pfit certantye 
 ye & the pore semple innocent y l hath had wrong & iniuri 
 Must cal y 6 other his good maister for shewing hym such mar- 
 
 [cye 
 And as it is daylie syne for fere of ferther disprofite 
 He must that man his best frende and maister call 
 Of whome he neuer receiued any maner benefite 
 And at whose hand he neuer han any good at all 
 And must graunt, affirme, or denie, what so euer he shall 
 He must saye the Croue is whight, yf he be so comauded 
 ye and that he him selfe is into a nother body chaunged 
 
JACK JUGLER. 47 
 
 He must saye he dyd a mysse, though he neuer dyd offend 
 
 He must aske forgeuenes, where he did no trespace 
 
 Or ells be in troble, care and meserye with out ende 
 
 And be cast in sum arrierage, without any grace 
 
 And that thing he sawe done before his owne face 
 
 He must by compulsion, stifelie denye 
 
 And for feare whether he woll or not saye tonge you lye 
 
 And in euerye faculte, this thing is put in vre 
 
 And is so vniuersall that I nede no one to name 
 
 And as I fere is like euermore to endure 
 
 For it is in all faculties a commyn sporte and game 
 
 The weker to saie as y e stroger biddeth, or to haue blam 
 
 As a cunning sophist woll by argument bring to passe 
 
 That the rude shal confesse, and graunt him selfe an asse 
 
 And this is y e daylie exercise, and practise of their scoles 
 And not emongs them onlie, but also emongs all others 
 The stronger to compel and make poore symple foles 
 To say as they commaund them in all maner matiers 
 I woll name none particular, but set them all togithers 
 with out any exception, for I praye you shewe me one 
 Emonges al in the worlde that vsethe not suche fasion 
 
 He that is stronger and more of power and might 
 
 Yf he be disposed to reuenge his cause 
 
 woll sone pike a quarell be it wronge or right 
 
 To the inferior and weker for a cople of straues 
 
 And woll agaynst him so extremelie lay the lawes 
 
 That he wol put him to the worse, other by false iniurie 
 
 Or by some craffce and subtelete, or ells by plaine teranie 
 
48 
 
 JACK JUGLER. 
 
 As you sawe right now, by example playne 
 
 An other felowe being a counterfeat page 
 
 Brought the gentylmans seruaunt out of his brayne 
 
 And made him graunt y l him selfe was fallen in dotage 
 
 Baryng him selfe in hand that he dyd rage 
 
 And when he could not bryng that to passe by reason 
 
 He made him graunt it, and saye by compulsyon 
 
 Therfore happy are they that can beware 
 
 Into whose handes they fall by any suche chaunce 
 
 which if they do, they hardly e escape care 
 
 Troble, Misery e, and wofull greuaunce 
 
 And thus I make an end, comitting you to his gidauce 
 
 That made and redemed vs al, and to you y l be now here 
 
 I praye god graunt, and send many a good newe yere. 
 
 Finis. 
 
 Imprinted at London in Lothbury by me 
 Wyllyam Copland. 
 
%t>tx$vtt$* 
 
A new Enterlude called 
 Thersytes 
 
 Thys Enterlude Folowynge 
 
 Dothe Declare howe that the 
 
 greatest boesters are not 
 
 the greatest 
 
 doers. 
 
 The names of the players 
 Thersites A boster 
 
 Mulciber 
 
 A smyth 
 
 Mater 
 
 A mother 
 
 Miles 
 
 A knyght 
 
 Telemachus 
 
 A childe 
 
THERSYTES 
 
 Thersites commeth in fyrste hauinge a elubhe vppon 
 
 necJce 
 
 Haue in a ruffler foorth of the greke lande 
 Called Thersites, if ye wyll me knowe 
 abacke, geue me roume, in my way do ye not stand 
 For if ye do, I wyll soone laye you lowe 
 In Homere of my actes ye haue red I trow 
 Neyther Agamenon nor Ulysses, I spared to checke 
 They coulde not bringe me to be at theyr becke 
 Of late frome the sege of Troye I retourned 
 Where all my harnes excepte this clubbe I lost 
 In an olde house there it was quyte burned 
 Whyle I was preparinge vytayles for the hoste 
 I must nedes get me newe, what so euer it cost 
 I wyll go seke aduentures, for I can not be ydle 
 I wyll hamper some of the knaues in a brydle 
 It greueth me to heare howe the knaues do bragge 
 But by supreme Jupiter, when I am harnessed well 
 5 
 
54 THERSYTES. 
 
 I shall make the dasters to reime in to a bagge 
 To hyde them fro me, as from the deuyll of hell 
 I doubt not but hereafter, of me ye shall heare tell 
 Howe I haue made the knaues for to play cowch quaile 
 But now to the shop of Mulciber, to go I wyll not faile 
 
 \_Mulciber must haue a shop made in the place and 
 Thersites comethe before it sayinge a loude 
 Mulciber, whom the Poetes doth call the god of fyer 
 Smith vnto Jupiter kinge ouer all 
 Come foorth, of thy office I the desyre 
 and graunte me my petiction, I aske a thinge but small 
 I wyll none of thy lightning, that thou art wont to make 
 for the goddes supernall for yre when they do shake 
 With which they thruste the gyantes downe to hell 
 That were at a conuention heauen to bye and sell 
 But I woulde haue some helpe of Lemnos and Hua 
 That of theyr stele, by thy crafte, condatur mini galea. 
 
 Mulciber. 
 
 What felowe Thersites, do ye speake latyn nowe ? 
 
 Nay, then farewell, I make god a vowe 
 
 I do not you vnderstande, no latyn is in my palet 
 
 [And then he must do as he wolde go awaye. 
 
 Thersites. 
 I say abyde good Mulciber, I pray y e make me a sallet 
 
 Mulciber. 
 
 Why Thersites hast thou anye wytte in thy head ? 
 Woldest thou haue a sallet nowe, all the herbes are dead 
 Besyde that it is not mete for a smyth 
 To gether herbes, and sallettes to medle with 
 
tTHERSYTES. 55 
 
 Go get the to my loner venus 
 
 She hath sallettes ynough for all vs 
 
 I eate none snche sallettes for now I waxe olde 
 
 and for my stomacke they are verye conlde 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Now I praye to Jupiter that thou dye a cuckolde 
 I meane a sallet with whiche men do fyght 
 
 Mulciber. 
 
 It is a small tastinge of a mannes mighte 
 That he shoulde for any matter 
 Fyght with a fewe herbes in a platter 
 No greaie lande shonlde folowe that victorye 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Goddes passion Mulciber where is thy wit & memory 
 I wolde haue a sallet made of stele 
 
 Mulciber. 
 
 Whye syr, in your stomacke longe you shall it fele 
 For stele is harde for to digest 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Mans bones and sydes hee is worse then a beest 
 I wolde haue a sallet to were on my hed 
 Which vnder my chyn w l a thonge red 
 Buckeled shall be 
 Doest thou yet parceyue me 
 
 Mulciber. 
 Your mynde now I se 
 
56 THER.SYTES. 
 
 Why thou peuysshe ladde 
 Arte thou almost madde 
 Or well in thy wytte 
 Gette the a wallette 
 "Wolde thou haue a sallette 
 What woldest thou do with it 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 I pray the good Mulciber make no mo bones 
 But let me haue a sallet made at ones. 
 
 Mulciber. 
 
 I must do somewhat for this knaue 
 What maner of sallet syr woulde ye haue. 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 I wold haue such a one that nother might nor mayne 
 Shoulde perse it thorowe, or parte it in twayne 
 Whiche nother gonstone, nor sharpe speare 
 Shoulde be able other to hurte or teare 
 I woulde haue it also, for to saue my heade 
 yf Jupiter him selfe woulde haue me dead 
 And yf he in a fume woulde cast at me his fire 
 This sallet I woulde haue to kepe me from his yre. 
 
 Mulciber. 
 
 I perceaue youre mynde. 
 ye shall fynde me kynde 
 I wyll for you prepare 
 
 [And then he goeth into his shop, and maketh a Sallet 
 for hym at the laste he sayth. 
 Here Thersytes do this sallet weare 
 
THERSYTES. 57 
 
 And on thy head it beare 
 And none shall worke the care 
 
 [Then Mulciber goeth into his shop, vntyll he is 
 called agayne 
 
 Theesites. 
 
 Now woulde I not feare with anye bull to fyghte 
 
 Or with a raumpinge lyon nother by daye nor nyghte 
 
 what greate strength is in my body so lusty 
 Whiche for lacke" of exercise, is nowe almost rustye 
 Hercules in comparison to me was but a boye 
 
 When the bandogge Cerberus from hell he bare awaye 
 When he kylled the lyons, hydra, and the bere so wylde 
 Compare him to me and he was but a chylde 
 Why Sampson I saye, hast thou no more wytte 
 woldest y u be as strog as I ? come suck thy mothers tytte 
 Wene you that Dauid that lyttle eluyshe boye 
 Should with his slinge haue take my life awaye 
 Nay ywys Golyath, for all his fyue stones 
 
 1 woulde haue quashed his little boysshe bones 
 
 howe it woulde do my harte muche good 
 To se some of the giauntes before Noes floud 
 
 1 woulde make the knaues to crye creke 
 
 Or elles with my clubbe their braynes I wyll breake 
 But Mulciber, yet I haue not with the do 
 My heade is armed, my necke I woulde haue to 
 And also my shoulders with some good habergyn 
 That the deuyll if he shote at me coulde not enter in 
 For I am determined greate battayle to make 
 Excepte my fumishenes, by some meanes may aslake. 
 5* 
 
58 THERSYTES. 
 
 MlTLCIBER. 
 
 Bokell on this habergyn as fast as thou canne 
 
 And feare for the metinge of nother beast nor manne 
 
 yf it were possible for one too shote an oke 
 
 This habergyn wyll defende thee frome the stroke 
 
 Let them throw mylstones at the as thick as haile 
 
 yet the to kyll they shall their purpose faile 
 
 yf Maluerne hylles shoulde on thy shoulders light 
 
 They shall not hurte the, nor suppresse thy mighte 
 
 Yf Beuis of Hampton, Colburne and Guy 
 
 Will the assay e, set not by them a flye 
 
 To be briefe, this habergyn shall the saue 
 
 Bothe by lande and water, now playe the lustye knaue 
 
 \_Tlien he goeth into Ms shopjie againe. 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 When I consider my shoulders that so brode be 
 
 When the other partes of my bodye I do beholde 
 
 I verely think that none in chrystente 
 
 With me to medele dare be so bolcle 
 
 Now haue at the lyons on cotsolde 
 
 I wyll neyther spare for heate nor for colde 
 
 Where art thou king Arthur, and the knightes of the rounde 
 
 Come, brynge forth your horses out of the stable [table 
 
 Lo with me to mete they be not able 
 
 By the masse they had rather were a bable 
 
 Where arte thou Gawyn the curtesse and Cay the crabed 
 
 Here be a couple of knightes cowardishe and scabbed 
 
 Appere in thy likenesse syr Libeus disconius 
 
 Yf thou wilt haue my clubbe lyghte on thy hedibus 
 
 Lo ye maye see he beareth not the face 
 
 With me to trye a blowe in thys place 
 
THERSYTES. 59 
 
 Howe Syrray, approche Syr Launcelot de lake 
 
 What ? renne ye awaie and for feare quake 
 
 Nowe he that did the a knight make 
 
 Thought neuer that thou any battaile shouldest take 
 
 yf y u wilt not come thy self, some other of thy felowes send 
 
 To battaile I prouoke them, them selfe let them defende 
 
 lo, for all the good that euer they se 
 
 They wyll not ones set hande to fight with me 
 
 good lorde howe brode is my brest 
 And strong with all for hole is my chest 
 
 He that should medle with me shall haue shrewde rest 
 Beholde you my handes, my legges and my feete 
 Euery part is stronge proportionable and mete 
 Thinke you that I am not feared in felde and strete 
 Yes yes god wote, they geue me the wall 
 Or elles with my clubbe, I make them to fall 
 Backe knaues I saye to them, then for feare they quake 
 And take me then to the tauerne and good chere me make 
 The proctoure and his men I made to renne their waies 
 And some wente to hide them in broken heys 
 
 1 tell you at a woorde 
 I set not a torde 
 
 By none of them al 
 
 Early and late I wyll walke 
 
 And London stretes stalke 
 
 Spyte of them greate and small 
 
 For I thinke verely 
 
 That none in heauen so hye 
 
 Nor yet in hell so lowe 
 
 Whyle I haue this clubbe in my hande 
 
 Can be able me to withstande 
 
 Or me to ouerthrowe 
 
60 THERSYTES. 
 
 But Mulciber jet I must the desyre 
 
 To make me briggen yrons for myne armes 
 
 And then I will loue the as mine owne syre 
 
 For withoute them, I can not be safe from all harmes 
 
 Those once had, I will not sette a strawe 
 
 by all the worlde, for then I wyll by awe 
 
 Haue all my mynde, or elles by the holye roode 
 
 I wyl make them thinke, the deuyle caryeth them to the wood 
 
 yf no man wyll with me battayle take 
 
 A vyage to hell quickely I wyll make 
 
 And there I wyll bete the deuyll and his dame 
 
 And bringe the soules awaye-, I fullye entende the same 
 
 After that in hell I haue ruffled so 
 
 Streyghte to olde purgatorye wyll I go 
 
 I wyll cleane that so purge rounde aboute 
 
 That we shall nede no pardons to helpe them oute 
 
 yf I haue not fyghte ynoughe this wayes 
 
 I wyll clymbe to heauen and fet awaye Peters kayes 
 
 I wyll kepe them myselfe, and let in a great route 
 
 What shoulde suche a fysher kepe good felowes out 
 
 Mulciber. 
 
 Haue here Thersites briggen yrons bright 
 And feare thou no man manly to fyghte 
 Though he be stronger then Hercules or Sampson 
 Be thou prest and bolde to set him vpon 
 Nother Amazon nor xerxes with their hole rable 
 the to assayle shall fynde it profytable 
 I warrante the they wyll fle fro thy face 
 as doth an Hare from the dogges in a chase 
 Woulde not thy blacke and rustye grym berde 
 Nowe thou art so armed, make anye man aferde 
 
 
THERSYTES. 
 
 61 
 
 Surely if Jupiter dyd see the in this gere 
 
 He woulde renne awaye and hyde hym for feare 
 
 He wold think that Typhoeus the gyant were aliue 
 
 And his brother Enceladus, agayn with him to striue 
 
 If that Mars of battel! the god stoute and bold 
 
 In this aray shoulde chaunce the to beholde 
 
 He would yelde vp his sworde vnto the 
 
 And god of battayle (he would say) thou shouldest be 
 
 Now fare thou wel go the world through 
 
 And seke aduentures thou arte man good ynough. 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Mulciber, whyle the starres shal shyne in the sky 
 
 And Phaetons horses with the sonnes charret shall fly 
 
 Whyle the mornynge shall go before none 
 
 And cause the darkennesse to vanysshe away soone 
 
 Whyle that the cat shall loue well mylke 
 
 And whyle that women shall loue to go in sylke 
 
 Whyle beggars haue lyce 
 
 And cockneys are nyce 
 
 Whyle pardoners can lye 
 
 Marchauntes can by 
 
 And chyldren crye 
 
 Whyle all these laste and more 
 
 Whiche I kepe in store 
 
 I do me faythfully bynde 
 
 Thy kyndnes to beare in mynde 
 
 but yet Mulciber one thinge I aske more 
 
 Haste thou euer a sworde now in store ? 
 
 I would haue suche a one that would cut stones 
 
 And pare a great oke down at once 
 
 That were a sworde lo, euen for the nones. 
 
62 
 
 THERSYTES. 
 
 MlJLCIBEK. 
 
 Truely I haue suche a one in my shoppe 
 that will pare yron as it were a rope 
 haue, here it is, gyrde it to thy sycle 
 Now fare thou well, Jupiter be thy guyde 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Gramercye Mulciber wyth my hole harte 
 Geue me thy hande and let vs departe 
 
 [Mulciber goeth in to hys shojjpe againe^ and Ther- 
 sites saith foorth 
 Nowe I go hence, and put my selfe in prease 
 I wyll seeke aduentures, yea and that I wyll not cease 
 If there be any present here thys nyghte 
 that wyll take vpon them with me to fighte 
 Let them come quickly, and the battayle shall be pyghte 
 Where is Cacus that knaue ? not worthe a grote 
 that was wont to blowe cloudes oute of his throte 
 Which stale Hercules kine and hyd them in his caue 
 Come hether Cacus, thou lubber and false knaue 
 I wyll teache all wretches by the to beware 
 If thou come hether I trappe the in a snare 
 thou shalt haue knocked breade and yll fare 
 how say you good godfather that loke so stale 
 ye seeme a man to be borne in the vale 
 Dare ye aduenture wyth me a stripe or two 
 Go coward go hide the as thou wast wonte to do 
 What a sorte of dasterdes haue we here 
 None of you to battaile with me dare appeare 
 What saie you hart of gold, of countenaunce so demure ? 
 Will you fighte with me ? no, I am right sure 
 Fye blusshe not woman, I wyll do you no harme 
 
THERSYTES. 63 
 
 Excepte I had you soner to kepe my backe warme 
 
 Alas lyttle pums why are ye so sore afrayd ? 
 
 I praye you shew how longe it is ? sence ye were a mayd 
 
 Tell me in myne ere, syrs, she hath me tolde 
 
 That gone was her mydenhead, at thrustene yeare olde 
 
 Byr ladye she was lothe to kepe it to longe 
 
 And I were a mayde agayne, nowe maye be here songe 
 
 Do after my counsel of maydens the hoole beuye 
 
 Quickly red your maydehed, for they are vegeaiice heuy 
 
 Well, let all go, whye ? wyll none come in 
 
 With me to fyghte that I may pare his skyn 
 
 [The Mater commeth in. 
 
 Matek. 
 
 What saye you my sonne wyl ye fight ? god it defende 
 For what cause to warre do you nowe pretende 
 Wyll ye committe to battayles daungerous 
 Youre lyfe that is to me so precious. 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 I wyll go, I wyll go, stoppe not my waye 
 
 Holde me not good mother I hartely you praye 
 
 If there be any lyons, or other wylde beest 
 
 That wyll not suffer the husband man in rest 
 
 I wyll go seeche them : and byd them to a feest 
 
 They shall abye bytterlye the comminge of suche a gest 
 
 I wyll searche for them bothe in busshe and shrubbe 
 
 And laye on a lode with this lustye clubbe 
 
 Mater. 
 
 my swete sonne, I am thy mother 
 
 Wylt thou kyll me and thou hast none other 
 
64 thersytes. 
 
 Thersites. 
 No mother no, I am not of suche iniquity e 
 That I wyll defyle my handes vpon the. 
 But be contente mother, for I wyll not rest 
 Tyll I haue foughte with some man or wylde beast 
 
 [Mater.] 
 
 Truely my sonne yf that ye take thys way 
 
 Thys shall be the conclusion, marke what I shall say 
 
 Other I wyll drowne my selfe for sorowe 
 
 And fede fyshes with my body before to morowe 
 
 Or wyth a sharpe swerde, surely I wyll me kyll 
 
 Nowe thou mayst saue me, if it be thy wyll 
 
 I wyll also cut my pappes awaye 
 
 That gaue the sucke so manye a daye 
 
 And so in all the worlde it shall be knowen 
 
 That by my owne sonne I was ouerthrowen 
 
 Therefore if my lyfe be to the pleasaunte 
 
 That whiche I desyre good sonne do me graunte 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Mother thou spendest thy winde but in wast 
 The goddes of battayle hyr fury on me hath cast 
 I am fullye fyxed battayle for to taste 
 
 how many to deth I shall dryue in haste 
 
 1 wyll ruffle this clubbe aboute my hedde 
 Or els I pray god I neuer dye in my bedde 
 
 There shall neuer a stroke be stroken with my hande 
 But they shall thynke y l Jupiter doth thonder in y e land 
 
 Mater. 
 My owne swete sonne I knelynge on my knee 
 
THERSYTES. 65 
 
 and botlie my handes holdinge vp to the 
 Desyre the to ceasse and no battajle make 
 Call to the pacience and Better wayes take 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Tusshe mother, I am deafe I wyll the not heare 
 No no, yf Jupiter here him selfe nowe were 
 And all the goddes, and Juno his wife 
 And louinge Minerua that abhorreth all stryfe 
 yf all these I saye, would desyre me to be content 
 They dyd theyr wynde but in vaine spente 
 I wyll haue battayle in wayles or in kente 
 and some of the knaues I wyll all to rent 
 where is the valiaunt knighte syr Isenbrase ? 
 Appere syr I praye you, dare ye not shewe your face 
 where is Robin John and little hode 
 approche hyther quickely if ye thinke it good 
 I wyll teache suche outlawes wyth Chrystes curses 
 How they take hereafter awaye abbottes purses 
 whye wyll no aduenture appeare in thys place 
 where is Hercules with his greate mase 
 where is Busyris, that fed hys horses 
 Full lyke a tyraunte, with dead mens corses 
 Come any of you bothe 
 And I make an othe 
 That yer I eate anye breade 
 I wyll dryue a wayne 
 ye for neede twayne 
 Betwene your bodye and your heade 
 Thus passeth my braynes 
 wyll none take the paynes 
 To trye wyth me a blowe ? 
 6 
 
66 
 
 THERSYTES. 
 
 what a fellowe am I 
 whom euerye man dothe flye 
 That dothe me but once knowe 
 
 Mater. 
 
 Sonne all do you feare 
 
 That be presente here 
 
 They wyll not wyth you fyghte 
 
 You, as you be worthye 
 
 Haue nowe the victorye 
 
 wythoute tastynge of youre myghte 
 
 Here is none I trowe 
 
 That profereth you a blowe 
 
 Man woman nor chylde 
 
 Do not set your mynde 
 
 To fyghte with the wynde 
 
 be not so madde nor wylde 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 1 say aryse who so euer wyll fighte 
 I am to battayle here readye dyghte 
 Come hyther other swayne or knyghte 
 
 Let me see who dare presente him to my syghte 
 Here with my clubbe readye I stancle 
 Yf anye wyll come to take them in hand 
 
 Mater. 
 
 There is no hope left in my brest 
 To bring my sonne vnto better rest 
 He wyll do nothinge at my request 
 He regardeth me no more the a best 
 I see no remedy e, but styll I wyll praye 
 
THERSYTES. 67 
 
 To god, my sonne to gyde in his waye 
 
 That he maye haue a prasperous iournynge 
 
 And to bee saue at his returnynge 
 
 Sonne, god aboue graunte thys my oration 
 
 That when in battaile thou shalt haue concertacion 
 
 with your ennemies, other fare or nere 
 
 No wounde in them nor in you may appere 
 
 So that ye nother kyll nor be kylled 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Mother thy peticion I praye god be fulfylled 
 
 For then no knaues bloude shall be spilled 
 
 Felowes kepe my counsell by the masse, I doo but crake 
 
 I wyll be gentyll enoughe and no busenesse make 
 
 But yet I wyll make her beleue that I am a man 
 
 thincke you that I wyll fight ? no no but wyth the can 
 
 Excepte I finde my enemye on thys wyse 
 
 that he be a slepe or els can not aryse 
 
 Yf his armes and his fete be not fast bounde 
 
 I wyll not profer a stripe for a thousande pound 
 
 ffare well mother and tarrye here no longer 
 
 ffor after proues of chiualry I do both thyrste & honger 
 
 I wyll beate the knaues as flatte as a conger 
 
 [ Then the mother goeth in the place which is prepared 
 for her. 
 What how long shal I tary ? be your hartes in your hose 
 will there none of you in battayl me appose 
 Come proue me whye stande you so in doubte 
 haue you anye wylde bloude, that ye would haue let oute 
 Alacke that a mans strengthe can not be knowen 
 Because that he lacketh ennemies to be ouerthrowen 
 
 [Here snaile muste appere vnto him, and hee muste 
 loJce fearefully vppon the snaile saienge 
 
68 THERSYTES. 
 
 But what a monster do I see nowe 
 
 Comminge hetherwarcle with an armed browe 
 
 what is it ? ah it is a sowe 
 
 No by gods body it is but a grestle 
 
 And on the backe it hath neuer a brystle 
 
 It is not a cow, ah there I fayle 
 
 For then it should haue a long tayle. 
 
 What the deuyll I was blinde, it is but a snayle 
 
 I was neuer so afrayde in east nor in south 
 
 My harte at the fyrste syght was at my mouth 
 
 Mary syr fy, fy, fy, I do sweate for feare 
 
 I thoughte I had craked but to tymely here 
 
 Hens thou beest and plucke in thy homes 
 
 Or I sweare by him that crowned was with thornes 
 
 I will make the drincke worse than good ale in y e cornes 
 
 Haste thou nothynge elles to doo 
 
 But come wyth homes and face me so 
 
 Howe, how my seruauntes, get you shelde and spere 
 
 And let vs werye and kyll thys monster here 
 
 [here Miles cometh in 
 
 Miles. 
 
 Is not thys a worthye knyghte 
 
 that wyth a snayle dareth not fight 
 
 Excepte he haue hys seruauntes ayde 
 
 Is this the chaumpyon that maketh al me afraid 
 
 I am a pore souldiour come of late fro Calice 
 
 I trust or I go to debate some of his malyce 
 
 I wyll tarrye my tyme tell I do see 
 
 Betwixt hym and the snayle what the ende wyll be 
 
 Thersites. 
 Whye ye horeson knauys, regarde ye not my callinge 
 
THERSYTES. 69 
 
 whye do ye not come and wyth you weapons brynge 
 why shall this monster so escape kyllinge 
 No that he shal not and god be wyllinge 
 
 Miles. 
 
 I promyse you, thys is as worthye a knyghte 
 
 as euer shall brede oute of a bottell byte 
 
 I thinke he be Dares of whom Uirgyll doth write 
 
 That woulde not let entellus alone 
 
 But euer prouoked and euer called on 
 
 But yet at the last he tooke a fall 
 
 And so within a whyle, I trowe I make the shall 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 By Gods passion knaues, if I come I wyll you fetter 
 Regarde ye my callinge and cryinge no better 
 why horesons I saye, wyU ye not come 
 By the masse the knaues be all from home 
 They had better haue fet me an errande at Rome 
 
 Miles. 
 
 By my trothe, I thynke that very skante 
 
 This lubber dare aduenture to fighte with an ant 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Well seinge my seruauntes come to me will not 
 I must take hede that this monster me spyll not 
 I wyll ioparde with it a ioynte 
 And other with my clubbe or my sweardes poynte 
 I wyll reche it suche woundes 
 As I woulde not haue for. xl. m. poundes 
 Plucke in thy homes thou vnhappy beast 
 6* 
 
70 THERSYTES. 
 
 what facest thou me ? wilte not thou be in reste 
 Why ? wyl not thou thy homes in holde 
 Thinkest thou that I am a cockolde 
 Goddes armes the monster cometh towarde me styll 
 Excepte I fyght manfully, it wyll me surely kyll 
 
 [Then he must fyght against the snayle with his club 
 
 Miles. 
 
 Jupiter Lorde doest thou not see and heare 
 How he feareth the snayle as it were a here 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Well with my clubbe I haue had good lucke 
 Now with my sworde haue at the a plucke 
 
 [And he must cast his club aw aye. 
 
 1 wyll make the or I go, for to ducke 
 
 And thou were as tale a man as frier Tucke 
 
 I saye yet agayne thy homes in drawe 
 
 Or elles I wyll make the to haue woundes rawe 
 
 Arte thou not a ferde 
 
 To haue thy bearde 
 
 Pared with my swearde 
 
 [Here he must fighte then with his sworde against the 
 snayle, and the snayle draiveth her homes in. 
 Ah well, nowe no more 
 Thou mightest haue done so before 
 I layed at it so sore 
 
 That it thoughte it shoulde haue be lore 
 And it had not drawen in his homes againe 
 Surelye I woulde the monster haue slaine 
 But now farewell, I wyll work the no more payne 
 Nowe my fume is paste 
 
THERSYTES. 
 
 71 
 
 And dothe no longer laste 
 
 That I did to the monster cast 
 
 Now in other countries both farre and neare 
 
 Mo dedes of chyualrye I wyll go inquere 
 
 Miles. 
 
 Thou nedes not seke any further for redy I am here 
 I wyll debate a none I trowe thy bragginge chere 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Nowe where is any mo that wyll me assayle 
 
 I wyll turne him and tosse him bothe toppe and tayle 
 
 yf he be stronger then Sampson was 
 
 who with his bare handes kylde lyons apas 
 
 Miles. 
 
 What nedeth this booste ? I am her£ at hande 
 That with the will fighte kepe the heade and stande 
 Surelye for al thy hye wordes I wyll not feare 
 To assaye the a towche tyll some bloude apeare 
 I wyll geue the somewhat for the gifte of a newe yeare 
 [And he begynth to fight with him, but Thersites 
 
 must ren awaye, and hyde hym behynde hys 
 
 mothers baehe sayinge. 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 mother mother I pray the me hyde 
 
 Throwe some thinge ouer me and couer me euery syde 
 
 Mater. 
 my sonne what thynge eldyth the ? 
 
 H 
 
72 THERSYTES. 
 
 Thersites. 
 Mother a thousande horsemen do persecute me 
 
 Mater. 
 
 Marye sonne then it was time to flye 
 I blame the not then, thoughe afrayde thou be 
 A deadlye wounde thou mightest there sone catche 
 One against so manye, is no indyfferente matche 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 No mother but if they had bene but ten to one 
 I woulde not haue auoyded but set them vppon 
 But seinge they be so many I ran awaye 
 Hyde me mother hyde me, I hartely the pray 
 For if they come hyther and here me fynde 
 To their horses tayles they wyli me bynde 
 And after that fasshyor? hall me and kyll me 
 And thoughe I were neuer so bolde and stoute 
 To fyght againste so many, I should stande in double 
 
 Miles. 
 
 Thou that doest seke giauntes to conquere 
 Come foorth if thou dare, and in this place appere 
 ~Fy for shame doest thou so sone take flighte 
 Come forthe and shewe somewhat of thy myghte 
 
 Thersites. 
 Hyde me mother, hyde me, and neuer worde saye 
 
 Miles. 
 
 Thou olde trotte, seyst thou any man come thys waye 
 well armed and weaponed and readye to fighte 
 
THERSYTES. 73 
 
 Mater. 
 No forsothe Maister, there came none in my sight 
 
 Miles. 
 
 He dyd auoyd in tyme for withoute doubtes 
 
 I woulde haue set on his backe some clowtes 
 
 Yf I may take him I wyll make all slowches 
 
 To beware by him, that they come not in my clowches 
 
 [Then he goeth oute, and the mother saith 
 
 Mater. 
 
 Come foorth my sonne, your enemy is gone 
 Be not afrayde for hnrte thou canst haue none 
 
 [Then he loketh ahoute if he be gone or not, at the last 
 he sayth. 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 ywys thou didest wisely who so euer thou be 
 
 To tarrye no longer to fighte with me 
 
 For with my clubbe I woulde haue broken thy skull 
 
 Yf thou were as bigge as Hercules bull 
 
 why thou cowardely knaue, no stronger then a ducke 
 
 Darest thou trye maystries with me a plucke 
 
 whiche fere nother giauntes nor Jupiters fire bolte 
 
 Nor Beelzebub the mayster deuyll as ragged as a colte 
 
 I woulde thou wouldest come hyther ones againe 
 
 I thincke thou haddest rather alyue to be flayne 
 
 Come againe and I sweare by my mothers wombe 
 
 I wyll pull the in peeces no more then my thombe 
 
 and thy braines abrode, I wyll so scatter 
 
 That all knaues shall feare, against me to clatter 
 
 [Then cometh in Telemachus bringinge a letter from 
 his father Ulisses, and Thersites saieth. 
 
74 THERSYTES. 
 
 what ? little Telemaclms 
 
 what inakest thou here amonge vs ? 
 
 Telemachus. 
 
 Syr my father Ulysses doth hym commende 
 
 To you most hartely, & here he hath you sende 
 
 Of hys mynde a letter 
 
 whiche shewe you better 
 
 Euery thynge shall 
 
 Then I can make rehersall 
 
 [Here he must delyuer hym the letter 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Lo frendes ye maye see 
 what great men wryte to me 
 
 [Sere he must redde the letter. 
 As entyrely as harte can thyncke 
 Or scryuener can wryte with yncke 
 I sende you louynge gretynge 
 Thersytes myne owne swetynge 
 I am very sorye 
 when I cast in memory 
 The great vnkyndnes 
 And also the blynclnes 
 That hath be in my brest 
 Agaynst you euer prest 
 I haue be prompt and dylygent 
 Euer to make you shent 
 To appall your good name 
 And To mynysshe your fame 
 In that I was to blame 
 But well al this is gone 
 
THERSYTES. 75 
 
 And remedy there is none 
 
 But Anely repentaunce 
 
 Of all my olde greuaunce 
 
 with whiche I dycl you moles te 
 
 And gaue you sorye reast 
 
 The cause was thereof truelye 
 
 Nothinge but verye enuye 
 
 wherefore nowe gentyll esquier 
 
 Forgeue me I you desyre 
 
 And helpe I you beseche 
 
 Telemachus to a leche 
 
 That hym may wyselye charme 
 
 From the wormes that do hym harme 
 
 In that ye maye do me pleasure 
 
 For he is my chyefe treasure 
 
 I haue hearde menne say 
 
 That come by the way 
 
 That better charmer is no other 
 
 then is youre owne deare mother 
 
 I praye you of her obtayne 
 
 To charme away his paine 
 
 Fare ye well, and come to my house 
 
 To dryncke wyne and eate a peece of sowse 
 
 And we wyll haue minstrelsy 
 
 that shall pype hankyn boby 
 
 My wyfe penelobe 
 
 Doth grete you well by me 
 
 wrytinge at my house on Candelmasse daye 
 Mydsomer moneth, the calenders of maye 
 By me Ulisses beynge verye gladde 
 That the victorye of late of the monster ye hadde 
 
 Ah syrraye quod he ? how saye you frendes all 
 
76 THERSYTES. 
 
 Ulisses is glad for my fauoure to call 
 
 well, thoughe we ofte haue swerued 
 
 And he small loue deserued 
 
 Yet I am well contente 
 
 Seinge he dothe repente 
 
 To let olde matters go 
 
 And to take him no more so 
 
 As I haue do hyther to 
 
 For my mortall fo 
 
 Come go with me Telemachus, I wyll the bringe 
 
 Vnto my mother to haue her cherminge 
 
 I doubte not, but by that tyme that she hath done 
 
 Thou shalte be the better seuen yeares agone 
 
 [Then Thersytes goeth to his mother sayinge 
 Mother Christe thee saue and see 
 Ulysses hathe sende his sonne to thee 
 That thou shouldest hym charme 
 From the wormes that hym harme 
 
 Mater. 
 
 Sonne ye be wise kepe ye warme 
 Whye shoulde I for Ulysses doo 
 That neuer was kynde vs to 
 He was readye in warre 
 Euer the, sonne, to marre 
 Then had bene all my ioye 
 Exiled cleane awaye 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Wei mother all that is past 
 Wrothe maye not alwaye laste 
 And seinge we be mortall all 
 Let not our wroth be immortall 
 
THERSYTES. 77 
 
 Mater. 
 Charme that charme wyll, he shal not be charmed of me 
 
 Thersites. 
 Charme or by the masse with my club I wil charme the 
 
 Mater. 
 Why sonne arte thou so wicked to beate thy mother 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 ye that I wyll, by goddes deare brother 
 Charme olde witche in the deuils name 
 Or I wyll sende the to him to be his dame 
 
 Mater. 
 
 Alas what a sonne haue I 
 That thus dothe order me spitefullye 
 Cursed be the time that euer I hym fedde 
 I would in my bely he had be deade 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Cursest thou olde hore ? blesse me againe 
 
 Or I wyll blesse the, that shall be to thy payne 
 
 [Then he must take hyr by the armes, and she crieih 
 oute as follow eth. 
 
 Mater. 
 
 He wyll kyll me 
 He wyll spyll me 
 He wyll brose me 
 He wyll lose me 
 
78 THERSYTES. 
 
 He wyll pricke me 
 He wyll stycke me 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 The deuyll stycke the olde wytherde witch 
 For I wyll sticke nother the, nor none suche. 
 But come of geue me thy blessinge againe 
 I saye let me haue it, or elles certayne 
 With my clubbe I wyll laye the on the brayne 
 
 Matek. 
 
 Well seinge thou threatenest to me affliction 
 Spite of my harte haue nowe my benediction 
 Nowe christes swete blessinge and mine 
 Lighte aboue and beneath the bodye of thyne 
 And I beseche with all my deuotion 
 That thou mayste come to A mans promotion 
 He that forgeue Mary Mawdalene hyr synne 
 Make the hyghest of all thy kynne 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 In this wordes is double intelliniente 
 
 Wouldest thou haue me hanged mother veramente 
 
 Mater. 
 
 No sonne no, but too haue you hye 
 In promocion, is my mynde verelye 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Well then mother let all this goo 
 
 and charme this chylde that you is sende to 
 

 THERSYTES. 79 
 
 and loke hereafter to curse ye be not gredye 
 Curse me no more, I am cursed ynoughe all readye 
 
 Mater. 
 
 Well sonne I wyll curse you no more 
 Excepte ye prouoke me to to sore 
 But I meruaile why ye do me moue 
 To do for Ulisses that dothe not vs loue 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Mother by hys sonne he hathe sende me a letter 
 
 Promysynge hereafter to be to vs better 
 
 and you and I with my greate clubbe 
 
 Muste walke to him and eate a solybubbe 
 
 and we shall make merye 
 
 and synge tyrle on the berye 
 
 With Simkyn sydnam somner 
 
 that kylde a catte at comner 
 
 There the tryflinge tabborer trowbler of tunys 
 
 Wyll pyke Peter pybaker a penyworth of prunes 
 
 Nycholl neuergood a nette and a nightcappe 
 
 Knytte wyll for kyt whose knee cawghte a knappe 
 
 Dauid dowghtye dyghter of datys 
 
 Gren with godfrey goodale wyll gretely at the gates 
 
 Thorn tombler of tewxbury turninge at a tryce 
 
 Wyll wype Wylliam waterman if he be not wyse 
 
 Symon sadler of sudeley that serued the sowe 
 
 Hytte wyll Henrye hartlesse he harde not yet how 
 
 Jynkyn Jacon that iobbed iolye Jone 
 
 Grynde wyll gromellede vntyll he grone 
 
 Prowdeperis pykethancke, that pyked pernels purse 
 
 Cut wyll the cakes thoughe Cate do crye and curse 
 
80 THERSYTES. 
 
 Roughe Robyn rouer rufflinge in ryghte rate 
 
 balde Bernarde braynles wyll bete and Benet bate 
 
 Folyshe frederycke furburer of a farte 
 
 Dynge daniell deintye to deatbe wyll with a darte 
 
 Mercolfe mouyles moreninge for mad Marye 
 
 Tyncke wyll the tables thoughe he there not tary 
 
 Andrewe all knaue alderman of Andwarpe 
 
 Hoppe wyll with holy hockes & harken humfreys harpe 
 
 It is to to mother the pastyme and good chere 
 
 That we shall see and haue, when that we come there 
 
 Wherefore gentyle mother I the hartely praye 
 
 That thou wylte charme for wormes this pretye boye 
 
 Mater. 
 
 Well sonne, seinge the case and mater standeth so 
 
 I am contente all thy request to do 
 
 Come hyther pretye childe 
 
 I will the charme from the wormes wylde 
 
 but firste do thou me thy name tell 
 
 Telemachus. 
 I am called Telemachus there as I dwell 
 
 Mater. 
 
 Telemachus lye downe vprighte on the grounde 
 And styrre not ones for a thousande pounde 
 
 Telemachus. 
 
 I am readye here preste 
 To doo all youre requeste 
 
 [Then he must lay hym down with his bely vpward 
 and shee muste blesse hym frome aboue too be- 
 neath sayinge as foloweth. 
 
THERSYTES. 81 
 
 Mater. 
 The cowherd of Comertowne with his croked spade 
 Cause frome the, the wormes soone to vade 
 And iolje Jacke iumbler that iuggleth with a home 
 Graunte that thy wormes soone be all to torne 
 Good graundsyre Abraham godmother to Eue 
 Graunte that this wormes no longer this chylde greue 
 All the courte of conscience in cockoldshyres 
 Tynckers and tabberers typplers tauerners 
 Tyttyfylles, tryfullers, turners and trumpers 
 Tempters, traytoures, trauaylers and thumpers 
 Thryftlesse, theuyshe, thy eke and thereto thynne 
 the maladye of this wormes cause for too blynne 
 The vertue of the tayle of Isaackes cow 
 That before Adam in paradyse dyd lowe 
 Also the ioyste of Moses rod 
 In the mounte of caluarye that spake with God 
 Facie ad faciem, turninge tayle to tayle 
 Cause all these wormes quickly to fayle 
 The bottome of the shyppe of Noe 
 And also the legge of y e horse of Troe 
 The peece of the tounge of Balaams asse 
 the chawbone of the Oxe that at Christes byrth was 
 the eye tothe of the dogge that wente on pylgremage 
 with yonge Thobye, these wormes sone may swage 
 the butterflye of Bromemycham j l was borne blinde 
 The blaste of the bottell that blowed Aelous wynde 
 The buttocke of the bytter boughte at Buckyngame 
 the bodye of the bere that wyth Beuis came 
 the backster of Balockburye with her bakinge pele 
 Chylde fro thy wormes I praye, maye sone the hele 
 The tapper of tauyestocke and the tapsters potte 
 7* 
 
82 THERSYTES. 
 
 The tothe of tlie tytmus, the torde of the gote 
 
 In the towre of tenysballes tostyd by the fyer 
 
 the table of Tantalus turned trym in myre 
 
 y e tombe of Tom thredbare j x thruste tyb through y e smock 
 
 Make al thy wormes chylde, to come forth at thy docke 
 
 Sem Cam and Japhat and coll the myllars mare 
 
 the fyue stones of Dauyd : that made goliath stare 
 
 the wing with which seit Mychaell dyd fly to his mout 
 
 the counters wherwith cherubyn, did cheristones count 
 
 The hawke with which Assuerus kylde the wylde bore 
 
 Helpe that these wormes my chylde, hurt the no more 
 
 the mawe of the morecocke that made mawd to mowe 
 
 when martylmas at moreton morened for the snowe 
 
 the spere of spanysshe spylbery sprente w l spiteful spottes 
 
 the lyghtes of the lauerocke layde at London lottes 
 
 the shynbon of saint Samuell shyninge so as the sunne 
 
 Graunt child of the wormes that sone thy paines be don 
 
 Mother bryce of oxforde and greate Gyb of hynxey 
 
 Also mawde of thrutton and mable of chartesey 
 
 And all other wytches that walke in dymminges dale 
 
 Clytteringe and clatteringe there youre pottes with ale 
 
 Inclyne your eares, and heare this my peticion 
 
 and graunt e this childe, of healthe to haue fruition 
 
 the blessinge that Jorden to his Godsonne gaue 
 
 Lyght on my chylde and from the wormes him saue 
 
 Now stande vppe little Telemachus anone 
 
 I warrante the by to morowe, thy wormes wyll be gone 
 
 Telemachus. 
 
 I thanke you mother in my most hartelye wise 
 
 wyll ye syr to my father commauncle me anye seruice 
 
THERSYTES. 83 
 
 Thersites. 
 No pretje boye, but do thou vs two comniende 
 to thy father and mother, tell them that we entende 
 Bothe my mother and I 
 to see them shortelye 
 
 Telemachus. 
 
 Ye shall be hartelye welcome to them I dare .well say 
 Fare ye well, by youre leaue, now I wyll departe awaye 
 
 Thersites. 
 Sonne, geue me thy hande, fare well 
 
 Mater. 
 
 I praye god kepe the from parell 
 
 [Telemachus goeth oute, and the mother sayeth. 
 Ywys it is a proper chylde 
 and in behauioure nothinge wylde 
 Ye maye see what is good education 
 I woulde euerye man after this fasshion 
 had their children vp broughte 
 
 then manye of them woulde not haue bene so noughte 
 A chylde is better vnborne then vntaughte 
 
 Thersites. 
 
 Ye saye truthe mother, well let all this go 
 and make you readye Ulisses to go to 
 with me anone, be ye so contente 
 
 Mater. 
 
 I am well pleased to youre wyll I assente 
 For allthoughe that I loue hym but verye euyll 
 
84 THEB.SYTES. 
 
 It is good to set a candell before the denyll 
 Of most parte of greate men I sweare by thys fyer 
 Lyghte is the thancke but heanye is the ire 
 Fare well sonne, I wyll go me to prepare 
 
 Theksites. 
 
 Mother God be wyth yon and keepe yon frome care 
 
 [The mother goeth out, and Ther sites sayeth forth 
 What somener I saye syrs, I thyncke yll might she care 
 I care not if the olde wytche were deade 
 It were an almoys dede to knocke hyr in the heade 
 And saye on the wormes that she dyd dye 
 For there be manye that my landes wonlde bye • 
 By goddes blessed brother 
 Yf I were not seke of the mother 
 thys totheless trotte kepethe me harde 
 And snffereth no money in my warde 
 Bnt by the blessed trinitye 
 Yf she will no soner ded be 
 I wyll with a coyshion stoppe hyr breath 
 tyll she hane forgotte newe marketh heth 
 Yll myghte I fare 
 Yf that I care 
 Hyr to spare 
 
 Abonte the honse she hoppeth 
 and hyr nose ofte droppeth 
 When the wortes she choppeth 
 When that she doth brewe 
 I may saye to yon 
 I am redy to spew 
 the droppes to see downe renne 
 By all Chrysten menne 
 

 THERSTTES. 85 
 
 Frome hyr nose to hyr knen 
 Fye Goddes bodye, it maketh me to spitte 
 to remember howe that she doth sytte 
 By the fyer brallynge 
 Scratchinge and scrallynge 
 and in euery place 
 Leyenge oysters apase 
 She dothe but lacke shelles 
 the deuyll haue they whytte, elles 
 At nyght when to bedde she goys 
 and plucketh of her hose 
 She knappeth me in the nose 
 with ryppe, rappe 
 Flyppe, flappe 
 that an yll happe 
 Come to that tappe 
 that venteth so 
 Where so euer she go 
 So muche she daylye dryncketh 
 That her breath at both endes styneketh 
 That an horsecombe and an halter 
 Hyr soone vppe talter 
 tyll I saye Dauyds psalter 
 That shall be at neuermas 
 Whyche neuer shall be, nor neuer was 
 By this tenne bones 
 She seraed me ones 
 touche for the nones 
 was sicke and laye in my bedde 
 She broughte me a kerchyfe to wrappe on my heade 
 And I praye God that I be deade 
 Yf that I lye any whytte 
 
86 THERSYTES. 
 
 when she was aboute the kerchefe to knytte 
 
 Breake did one of the formes fete 
 
 that she dyd stande on 
 
 And downe fell she anone 
 
 And foorth withall 
 
 As she dyd fall 
 
 She gyrdeth oute a farte 
 
 That me made to starte 
 
 I thyncke hyr buttockes dyd smarte 
 
 Excepte it hadde be a mare in a carte 
 
 I haue not harde suche a blast 
 
 I cryed and byd hyr holde fast 
 
 with that she nothinge agast 
 
 said to me that no woman in this lande 
 
 Coulde holde faste that whyche was not in hyr hande 
 
 No we syrs, in that hole pitche and fyre brande 
 
 Of that bagge so fustye 
 
 So stale and so mustye 
 
 So cankered and so rustye 
 
 So stinckynge and so dustye 
 
 God sende hyr as muche ioye 
 
 as my nose hathe alwaye 
 
 Of hyr vnsauerye spice 
 
 Yf that I be not wyse 
 
 and stoppe my nose quickelye 
 
 When she letteth goo merelye 
 
 But let all this go, I had almoste forgot 
 
 The knaue that here yerewhyles dyd iet 
 
 Before that Telemachus did come in 
 
 I wyll go seeche hym, I wyll not blynne 
 
 Untyll that I haue hym 
 
 Then so god saue hym 
 
 
THERSYTES. <t 87 
 
 I wyll so beknaue hym 
 
 That I wyll make to raue hym 
 
 With this swearde I wyll shaue hym 
 
 And strypes when I haue gaue hym 
 
 Better I wyll depraue him 
 
 That you shall knowe for a slaue him 
 
 [Then Miles cometh in sayinge 
 
 Miles. 
 
 Wylte thou so indeede ? 
 Hye the make good spede 
 I am at hande here prest 
 Put awaye tongue shakynge 
 and this folysshe crakynge 
 Let vs trye for the best 
 Cowardes make speake apase 
 Strypes proue the manne 
 Haue no we at thy face 
 Keepe of if thou canne 
 
 [And then he muste stryke at hym, and Thersytes 
 
 must runne awaye and leaue his clubbe $ sworde 
 
 behynde 
 Whye thou lubber runnest thou awaye 
 and leauest thy swearde and clubbe thee behynde 
 Nowe thys is a sure carde, now I maye well saye 
 That a cowarde crakinge here I dyd fynde 
 Maysters ye maye see by this playe in sighte 
 That great barking dogges, do not most byte 
 And oft it is sene that the best men in the hoost 
 Be not suche, that vse to bragge moste 
 Yf ye wyll auoyde the daunger of confusion 
 Printe my wordes in harte and marke this conclusion 
 
88 % THERSYTES. 
 
 Suche gyftes of god that ye excelle in moste 
 Use them wyth sobernesse, and youre selfe nener bost 
 Seke the laude of God in all that ye doo 
 So shall vertue and honoure come you too 
 But if you geue youre myndes, to the sinne of pryde 
 Uanisshe shall your vertue, your honoure away wil slide 
 For pryde is hated of God aboue 
 And meekenesse sonest obtaineth his loue 
 to youre rulers and parentes, be you obediente 
 Neuer transgressinge their lawefull commaundemente 
 Be ye merye and ioyfull at borde and at bedde 
 Imagin no tratourye againste your prince and heade 
 Loue God and feare him and after him youre kinge 
 Which is as victorious as anye is lyuinge 
 Praye for his grace with hartes that dothe not fayne 
 that longe he maye rule vs withoute grefe or paine 
 beseche ye also that God maye saue his quene 
 Lonely Ladie Jane, & the prince that he hath send them be- 
 to augment their ioye and the comons felicitie [twen 
 Fare ye wel swete audiece, god graunt you al prosperite 
 Amen. 
 
 Imprinted at London, 
 
 by John Tysdale and are to be solde 
 
 at hys shop in the vpper ende of 
 
 Lombard strete, in Alhallowes 
 
 Churche yarde neare 
 
 ltoo gra< 
 
 church. 
 
 vntoo grace 
 
%f>t i^amoner ann t|je ifrcre* 
 
A MERY PLAYE 
 
 BETWENE THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE 
 THE CURATE AND NEYBOUR PRATTE. 
 
 The fkere. 
 
 Deus hie the holy trynyte 
 Preserue all that nowe here be 
 Dere bretherne yf ye wyll consyder 
 The cause why I am come hyder 
 Ye wolde be glad to knowe my intent 
 For I com not hyther for monye nor for rent 
 I com not hyther for meate nor for meale 
 But I com hyther for your soules heale 
 I com not hyther to poll nor to shaue 
 I com not hyther to begge nor to craue 
 I com not hyther to glose nor to natter 
 I com not hyther to bable nor to clatter 
 I com not hyther to fable nor to lye 
 But I com hyther your soules to edyfye 
 
92 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 For we freres are bounde the people to teche 
 
 The gospell of Chryst openly to preche 
 
 As dyd the appostels by Chryst theyr mayster sent 
 
 To turne the people and make them to repent 
 
 But syth the appostels fro heuen wolde not come 
 
 We freres now must occupy theyr rome 
 
 We freres are bounde to serche mennes conscyens 
 
 We may not care for grotes nor for pens 
 
 We freres haue professed wylfull pouerte 
 
 No peny in our purse have may we 
 
 Knyfe nor staffe may we none cary 
 
 Excepte we shulde from the gospell vary 
 
 For worldly aduersyte may we be in no sorowe 
 
 We may not care to day for our meate to morowe 
 
 Bare fote and bare legged must we go also 
 
 We may not care for frost nor snowe 
 
 We may haue no maner care ne thynke 
 
 Nother for our meate nor for our drynke 
 
 But let our thoughtes fro suche thynges be as free 
 
 As be the byrdes that in the ayre flee 
 
 For why our lorde clyped swete Iesus 
 
 In the gospell speketh to vs thus 
 
 Through all the worlde go ye sayth he 
 
 And to every creature speke ye of me 
 
 And shew of my doctryne and connynge 
 
 And that they may be glad of your comynge 
 
 Yf that you enter in any hous any where 
 
 Loke that ye salute them and byd my peas be there 
 
 And yf that house be worthy and electe 
 
 Thylke peace there than shall take effecte 
 
 And yf that hous be cursyd or paruert 
 
 Thylke peace than shall to your selfe reuert 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 93 
 
 And furthermore yf any suche there be 
 
 Which do deny for to receyue ye 
 
 And do dyspyse your doctryne and your lore 
 
 At suche a house tary ye no more 
 
 And from your shoes scrape away the dust 
 
 To theyr reprefe and I bothe trew and iust 
 
 Shall vengeaunce take of theyr synfull dede 
 Wherfore my frendes to this text take ye hede 
 
 Beware how ye despyse the pore freres 
 
 Which ar in this worlde crystes mynysters 
 
 But do them with an harty chere receyue 
 
 Leste they happen your houses for to leue 
 
 And than god wyll take vengeaunce in his yre 
 
 Wherfore I now that am a pore frere 
 
 Dyd enquere were any people were 
 
 Which were dysposyd the worde of god to here 
 
 And as I cam hether one dyd me tell 
 
 That in this towne ryght good folke dyd dwell 
 
 Which to here the word of god wolde be glad 
 
 And as sone as I therof knolege had 
 
 I hyder hyed me as fast as I myght 
 
 Entendyd by the grace of god almyght 
 
 And by your pacyens and supportacyon 
 
 Here to make a symple colacyon 
 
 Wherfore I requyre all ye in this prese[nce] 
 
 For to abyde and gyue dew audyence 
 
 But fyrst of all 
 Now here I shall 
 To god my prayer make 
 To gyue ye grace 
 All in thys place 
 His doctryne for to take. 
 8* 
 
94 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 [And than hneleth downe the frere sayenge his 
 prayers and in the meane whyle entreth the 
 pardoner with all his relyques to declare what 
 eche of them ben and the hole power and vertu 
 thereof. 
 
 The pardoner. 
 
 God and saynt Leonarde sende ye all his grace 
 As many as ben assembled in this place 
 
 Good deuoute people that here do assemble 
 I pray god that ye may all well resemble 
 The ymage after whiche you are wrought 
 And that ye saue that Chryst in you bought 
 
 Deuoute Chrysten people ye shall all wytte 
 That I am comen hyther ye to vysytte * 
 Wherfore let vs pray thus or I begynne 
 Our sauyoure preserue ye all from synne 
 And enable ye to receyue this blessed pardon 
 Whiche is the greatest vnder the son 
 Graunted by the pope in his bulles under lede 
 Whiche pardon ye shall fynde whan ye are dede 
 That offereth outher grotes or els pens 
 To these holy relyques whiche or I go hens 
 I shall here shewe in open audyence 
 Exortynge ye all to do to them reuerence 
 
 But first ye shall knowe well j l I com fro Rome 
 Lo here my bulles all and some 
 Our lyege lorde seale here on my patent 
 I bere with me my body to warant 
 That no man be so bolde be he pre est or clarke 
 Me to dysturbe of Chrystes holy warke 
 Nor haue no dysdayne nor yet scorne 
 Of these holy relyques whiche sayntes haue worne 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 Fyrst here I shewe ye of a holy Iewes shepe 
 A bone I pray you take good kepe 
 To my wordes and marke them well 
 Yf any of your bestes belyes do swell 
 Dyppe this bone in the water that he clothe take 
 Into his body and the swellyinge shall slake 
 And yf any worme haue your beestes stonge 
 Take of this water and wasshe his tonge 
 And it wyll be hole anon and furthermore 
 Of pockes and scabbes and euery sore 
 He shall be quyte hole that drynketh of the well 
 That this bone is dipped in it is treuth that I tell 
 And yf any man that any beste oweth 
 Ones in the weke or that the cocke croweth 
 Fastynge wyll drynke of this well a draughte 
 As that holy lew hath vs taught 
 His beestes and his store shall multeply 
 And maysters all it helpeth well 
 Thoughe a man be foule in ielous rage 
 Let a man with this water make his potage 
 And neuermore shall he his wyfe mystryst 
 Thoughe he in sothe the faut by her wyst 
 Or had she be take with freres two or thre 
 
 Here is a mytten eke as ye may se 
 He that his hande wyll put in this myttayn 
 He shall haue encrease of his grayn 
 That he hath sowne be it wete or otys 
 So that he offer pens or els grotes 
 And another holy relyke eke here se ye may 
 The blessed arme of swete saynt sondaye 
 And who so euer is blessyd with this ryght hande 
 Can not spede amysse by se nor by lande 
 
 95 
 
96 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 And if he offereth eke with good deuocyon 
 He shall not fayle to come to hyghe promocyon 
 
 And another holy relyke here may ye see 
 The great too of the holy trynyte 
 And who so euer ones doth it in his mouthe take 
 He shall neuer be dysseasyd with the tothe ake 
 Canker nor pockys shall there none brede 
 This that I shewe ye is matter indede 
 
 And here is of our lady a relyke full good 
 Her bongrace which she ware with her french hode 
 Whan she wente oute al wayes for sonne bornynge 
 Women with chylde which be in mournynge 
 By vertue thereof shal be sone easyd 
 And of theyr tranayll full sone also releasyd 
 And if this bongrace they do deuoutly kys 
 And offer therto as theyr deuocyon is 
 
 Here is another relyke eke a precyous one 
 Of all helowes the blessyd law bone 
 Which relyke without any fayle 
 Agaynst poyson chefely dothe preuayle 
 For whom so euer it toucheth without dout 
 All maner venym from hym shall issue out 
 So that it shall hurt no maner wyghte 
 Lo of this relyke the great power and myghte 
 Which preseruyth from poyson euery man 
 Lo of saynt* Myghell eke the brayn pan 
 Which for the hed ake is a preseruatyfe 
 To euery man or beste that beryth lyfe 
 And further it shall stande hym in better stede 
 For his hede shall neuer ake whan that he is clecle 
 Nor he shall fele no maner grefe nor payn 
 Though with a sworde one cleue it than a twayn 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 97 
 
 But be as one that lay in a dede slepe 
 
 Wherfore to these relykes now com crouche and crepe 
 
 But loke that ye offerynge to them make 
 
 Or els can ye no maner profyte take 
 
 But one thynge ye women all I warant you 
 
 Yf any wyght be in this place now 
 
 That hath done syn so horryble that she 
 
 Dare nat for shame thereof shryuen be 
 
 Or any woman be she younge or olde 
 
 That hathe made her husbande cockolde 
 
 Suche folke shall haue no power nor no grace 
 
 To offer to my relykes in this place 
 
 And who so fyndeth her selfe out of suche blame 
 
 Com hyther to me on crystes holy name 
 And bycause ye 
 
 Shall vnto me 
 
 Gyue credence at the full 
 
 Myn auctoryte 
 
 Now shall ye se 
 
 Lo here the popes bull 
 
 [Now shall the frere begyn his sermon and euyn at 
 the same tyme the pardoner begynneih also to 
 shew and speke of his bullys and auctorytes 
 com from Rome. 
 
 The frere. 
 
 Date et dabitur vobis 
 
 G-ood deuout people this place of scrypture 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Worshypfull maysters ye shall understand 
 
98 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Is to you that have no litterature 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 That pope Leo the. x. hath graunted with his hand 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Is to say in our englysshe tonge 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And by his buHes confyrmed vnder lede 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 As departe your goodes the poore folke amongo 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 To all maner people bothe quycke and dede 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And god shall than gyue vnto you agayne 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Ten thousande yeres & a& many lentes of pardon 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 This is the gospell so is wryten playne 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Whan they are dede theyr soules for to guardon 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Therfore gyue your almes in the largest wyse 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 99 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 That wyll with theyr peny or almes dede 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Ktpe not your goodes fye fye on couetyse 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Put to theyr handes to the good spede 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 That synne with god is most abhomynable 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Of the holy chapell of swete saynt Leonarde 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And is eke the synne that is most dampnable 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Whiche late by fyre was destroyed and marde 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 In scrypture eke but I say syrs how 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Ay by the mas one can not here 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 What a bablynge maketh yonder felow 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 For the bablynge of yonder folysshe frere 
 
100 
 
 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 In scrypture eke is there many a place 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And also maysters as I was aboute to tell 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Whiche sheweth that many a ma so far forth lacketh grace 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Pope Iuly y. vi. hath grauted fayre & well 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 That whan to them god hathe abundaunce sent 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And doth. xii. thousande yeres of pardon to the sende 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 They wolde dystrybute none to the indygent 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 That ought to this holy chapell lende 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Wherat god hauynge great indygnacyon 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Pope Bonyface the. ix. also 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Punysshed these men after a dyuers facyon 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 101 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Pope Iuly pope Innocent with dyuers popes mo 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 As the gospell full nobly dothe declare 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Hathe graunted to the susteynynge of the same 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 How diues Epulus reygnynge in welfare 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 v. thousand yeres of pard5 to euery of you by name 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And on his borde dysshes delycate 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And clene remyssyon also of theyr syn 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Pore Lazarus cam beggynge at his gate 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 As often tymes as you put in 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Desyrynge som fode his honger to releue 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Any monye into the pardoners cofer 
 9 
 
102 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 But the rycheman nothynge wolde hym gyue 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Or any money vp vnto it offer 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Not so moche as a fewe crommys of breade 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Or he that offeryth peny or grote 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Wherfore pore lazarus of famyn strayth was dede 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Or he that gyueth the pardoner a new cote 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And angels hys soule to heuen dyd cary 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Or take of me outher ymage or letter 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 But now the ryche man of the contrary 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Wherby thys pore chapell may fayre the better 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Whan he was dede went to mysery and payne 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 103 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And god wote it ys a full gracyous dede 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Where for euermore he shall remayne 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 For whych god shall quyte you well your mede 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 In brennyng fyre whych shall neuer cease 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Now helpe our pore chapell yf it be your wyll 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 But I say thou pardoner I byd the holde thy peace 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And I say thou frere holde thy tonge styll 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 What standest thou there all the day smatterynge 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Mary what standyst thou there all day clatterrynge 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Mary felow I com hyder to prech the word of god 
 
 Whych of no man may be forbode 
 
 But harde wyth scylence and good entent 
 
 For why it techeth them euydent 
 
104 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 The very way and path that shall them lede 
 Euen to heuen gatys as strayght as any threde 
 And he that lettyth the worde of god of audyence 
 Standeth accurst in the greate sentence 
 And so art thou for enterruptynge me 
 
 PAEDONEE. 
 
 Nay thou art a curst knaue and that shalt thou se 
 
 And all suche that to me make interrupcyon 
 
 The pope sendes them excommunycacyon 
 
 By hys bullys here redy to be redde 
 
 By bysshoppes and hys cardynalles confyrmed 
 
 And eke yf thou dysturbe me any thynge 
 
 Thou arte also a traytour to the kynge 
 
 For here hath he graunted me vnder hys brode seale 
 
 That no man yf he loue hys hele 
 
 Sholde me dysturbe or let in any wyse 
 
 And yf thou dost the kynges commaundement dispise 
 
 I shall make the be set fast by the fete 
 
 And where thou saydyst that thou arte more mete 
 
 Amonge the people here for to preche 
 
 Bycause thou dost them the very way teche 
 
 How to com to heuen aboue 
 
 Therin thou lyest and that shall I proue 
 
 And by good reason I shall make the bow 
 
 And knowe that I am meter than arte thou 
 
 For thou whan thou hast taught them ones the way 
 Thou carest not whether they com there ye or nay 
 But whan that thou hast done all togyder 
 And taught them the way for to com thyther 
 Yet all that thou canst ymagyn 
 Is but to vse vertue and abstayne fro syn 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 105 
 
 And yf they fall ones than thou canst no more 
 
 Thou canst not gyue them a salue for theyr sore 
 
 But these my letters be clene purgacyon 
 
 All thouge neuer so many synnes they haue don 
 
 But whan thou hast taught them the way and all 
 
 Yet or they com there they may haue many a fall 
 
 In the way or that they com thyther 
 
 For why the way to heuen is very slydder 
 
 But I wyll teche them after another rate 
 
 For I shall brynge them to heuen gate 
 
 And be theyr gydes and conducte all thynges 
 
 And lede them thyther by the purse strynges 
 
 So that they shall not fall though that they wolcle 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Holde thy peace knaue thou art very bolde 
 Thou pratest in fayth euen lyke a pardoner 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Why despysest thou the popes mynyster 
 
 Maysters here I curse hym openly 
 
 And therwith warne all this hole company 
 
 By the popes great auctoryte 
 
 That ye leue hym and herken vnto me 
 
 For tyll he be assoyled his wordes take none effecte 
 
 For out of holy chyrche he is now clene reiecte 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 My maysters he dothe but gest and raue 
 It forseth not for the wordes of a knaue 
 But to the worde of god do reuerence 
 
106 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 And here me fortlie with dewe audyence 
 Maysters I shewed you ere whyle of almes dede 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Maysters this pardon whiche I shewed you before 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And how ye shulde gyue poor folke at theyr nede 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Is the greatest that euer was syth god was bore 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And yf of your partes that thynge ones were don 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 For why without eonfessyon or contrycyon 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Dout not but god sholde gyue you retrybucyon 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 By this shall ye haue clene remyssyon 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 But now further it ought to be declared 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And forgyuen of the synnes seuen 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Who be thes pore folke that shold haue your reward 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Come to this pardon yf ye wyll come to heuen 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Who be those pore folk of whome I speke & name 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Come to this pardon yf ye wyll be in blys 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Certes we pore freres are the same 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 This is the pardon which ye can not mysse 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 We freres dayly take payn I say 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 This is the pardon which shall mens soules wyn 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 We frears dayly do both fast and pray 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 This is the pardon the rydder of your synne 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 We freres trauayle and labour euery houre 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 This is the pardon that purchaseth all grace 
 
 107 
 
108 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 We freres take payn for the loue of our sauyour 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 This is a pardon for all maner of trespas 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 We freres also go on lymytacyon 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 This is y e pard5 of whiche all mercy dothe sprynge 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 For to preche to euery crysten nacyon 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 This is the pardon that to heuen shall ye brynge 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 But I say thou pardoner thou wylt kepe sylens sone 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Ye it is lyke to be whan I haue done 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Mary therfore the more knaue art thou I say 
 That parturbest the worde of god I say 
 For neyther thy selfe wylt here goddys doctryne 
 Ne suffre other theyr earys to enclyne 
 Wherfore our sauyour in his holy scrypture 
 Gyueth the thy iugement thou cursyd creature 
 Spekynge to the after this maner 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 109 
 
 Maledictus qui audit verbum dei negligenter 
 
 Wo be that man sayth our lord that gyueth no aucliens 
 
 Or heryth the worde of god with negligens 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Now thou haste spoken all syr daw 
 
 I care nat for the an olde straw 
 
 I had leuer thou were hanged up with a rope 
 
 Than I that am comen from the pope 
 
 And therby goddes minister whyle thou stadest & prate 
 
 Sholde be fayn to knocke without the gate 
 
 Therfore preche hardely thy bely full 
 
 But I neuer the les wyll declare the popes bull 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Now my frendes I haue afore shewed ye 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Now my maysters as I haue afore declared 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 That good it is to gyue your charyte 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 That pardoners from you may not be spared 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And further I haue at lenghte to you tolde 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Now here after shall folow and ensew 
 
110 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Who be these people that ye receyue sholde 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 That foloweth of pardons the great vertew 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 That is to say vs freres pore 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 We pardoners for your soules be as necessary 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 That for our lyuynge must begge fro dore to dore 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 As is the meate for our bodys hungry 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 For of our own propre we haue no propre thynge 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 For pardons is the thynge that bryngeth men to heuen 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 But that we get of deuout peoples gettynge 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Pardons delyuereth them fro the synnes seuen 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And in our place be fryers thre score and thre 
 
„ 
 
 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. Ill 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 ardons for euerj cryme may dyspens 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Which onely lyue on mens charyte 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Pardon purchasyth grace for all offence 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 For we fryars wylfull charyte professe 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Ye though ye had slayne bothe father and mother 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 We may haue no money nother more nor lesse 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And this pardon is chefe aboue all other 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 For worldly treasure we may nought care 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 For who to it offeryth grote or peny 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Our soules must be ryche and our bodyes bare 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Though synnes he had done neuer so many 
 
112 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And one thynge I had almoste left behynde 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And though that he had all his kyndred slayn 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Which before cam not to my mynde 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 This pardon shall rjd the fro euer lastynge payne 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And doubtles it is none other thynge 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 There is no syn so abhomynable 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 But whan ye wyll gyue your amies & offerynge 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Which to remyt this pardon is not able 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Loke that ye dystrybute it wysely 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 As well declareth the sentence of this letter 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Not to euery man that for it wyll crye 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 113 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Ye can not therefore bestow jour money better 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 For yf ye gyue your almes in that wyse 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Let vs not here stande ydle all the daye 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 It shall not bothe to them and vs suffyse 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Gyue vs some money or that we go our way 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 But I say thou lewde felowe thou 
 
 Haddest none other tyme to shewe thy bulles but now 
 
 Canst not tary and abyde tyll sone 
 
 And rede them than whan prechynge is done 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 I wyll rede them now what sayest thou therto 
 Hast thou any thynge therwith to do 
 Thynkest that I wyll stande and tary for thy leasure 
 Am I bounde to do so moche for thy pleasure 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 For my pleasure ? nay I wolde thou knewyst it well 
 It becometh the knaue neuer a dell 
 To prate thus boldely in my presence 
 And let the worde of god of audience 
 10 
 
114 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Let the word of god qd a ? nay let a horso dreuyll 
 
 Prate here all day with a foule euyll 
 
 And all thy sermon goth on couetyce 
 
 And byddest men beware of auaryce 
 
 And yet in thy sermon dost thou none other thynge 
 
 But for almes stande all the day beggynge 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Leue thy realynge I wolde the aduyse 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Nay leue thou thy bablynge yf thou be wyse 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 I wolde thou knewest it knaue I wyll not leue a whyt 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 No more wyll 1 1 do the well to wyt 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 It is not thou shall make me holde my peas 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Tha speke on hardly yf thou thynkyst it for thy eas 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 For I wyll speke whyther thou wylt or no 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 In faythe I care nat for I wyll speke also 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 115 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Wherfore hardely let vs bothe go to 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Se whiche shall be better harde of vs two 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 What sholde ye gyue ought to pratyng pardoners 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 What sholde ye spende on these flaterynge lyers 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 What sholde ye gyue oughte to these bold beggars 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 As be these bablynge monkes and these freres 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Let them hardely labour for theyr lyuynge 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Which do nought dayly but bable and lye 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 It moche hurtyth them good mennys gyuynge 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And tell you fables dere inoughe a flye 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 For that maketh them ydle and slouthfull to warke 
 
116 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 PARDONER. 
 
 As dothe this bablynge frere here to day 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 That for none other thynge they wyll carke 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Dryue hym hence therefore in the. xx. devyll waye 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Hardely they wolde go bothe to plow & carte 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 On vs pardoners hardely do your cost 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And if of necessitie ones they felte the smarte 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 For why your money neuer can be lost 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 But we freres be nat in lyke estate 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 For why there is in our fraternitie 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 For our handes with such thinges we may nat maculate 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 For all bretheren & sisteren that thereof be 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 117 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 We freres be nat in lyke condicion 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Deuoutly songe euery yere 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 we may haue no prebendes ne exhibition 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 As he shall know well that cometh there 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Of all temporall seruice are we forbode 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 At euery of the fyue solempne festes 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And onely bounde to the seruice of god 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 A masse & dirige to pray for the good rest 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And therwith to pray for euery christen nation 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Of the soules of the bretheren & sisteren all 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 That god witsafe to saue them fro dampnation 
 10* 
 
118 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Of our fraternitie in generall 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 But some of you so harde be of harte 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 with a herse there stand ynge well arayed & dyght 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Ye can nat wepe though ye full sore smarte 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And torches & tapers aboute it brennynge bright 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 wherfore some man must ye hyre nedes 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And with the belles eke solempnely ryngynge 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 whiche must intrete god for your misdedes 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And prestes & clerkes deuoutly syngynge 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Ye can hyre no better in myne oppinion 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And furthermore euery nyght in the yere 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 119 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Than vs goddes seruantes men of religion 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Twelue pore people are receiued there 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And specially god hereth vs pore freres 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And there haue bothe harborow and food 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And is attentife vnto our desyres. 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 That for them is conuenient and good 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 For the more of religion the more herde of our lorde 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And furthermore if there be any other 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And that it so shulde good reason doeth accorde 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 That of our fraternitie be sister or brother 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Therfore doute nat maisters I am euen he 
 
120 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Whiche here after happe to fall in decay 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 To whom ye shulde parte with your charitie 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And yf he than chaunce to come that way 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 we freres be they that shulde your almes take 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Nygh vnto our forsayd holy place 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 whiche for your soules helth do both watche & wake 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Ye shall there tary for a monthes space 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 we freres pray god wote whan ye do slepe 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And be there founde of the places cost 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 we for your synnes do bothe sobbe and wepe 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 wherfore now in the name of the holy goost 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 121 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 To pray to god for mercy and for grace 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 I aduise you all that now here be 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And thus do we dayly with all our hole place 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 For to be of our fraternitie 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 wherfore distribute of your temporall welthe 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Fye on couetise sticke nat for a peny 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 By whiche ye may preserue your soules helthe 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 For whiche ye may haue benefites so many 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 I say wylt thou nat yet stynt thy clappe 
 
 Pull me downe the pardoner with an euyll happe 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Maister frere I holde it best 
 
 To kepe your tonge while ye be in rest 
 
122 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 I say one pull the knaue of his stole 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Nay one pull the frere downe lyke a fole 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Leue thy railynge and babbelynge of freres 
 Or by Iys Ish lug the by the swete eares 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 By god I wolde thou durst presume to it 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 By god a lytell thynge might make me to do it 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 And I shrew thy herte and thou spare 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 By god I wyll nat mysse the moche thou slouche 
 
 And if thou playe me suche another touche 
 
 Ish knocke the on the costarde I wolde thou it knewe 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Mary that wolde I se quod blynde hew 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Well I wyll begyn and than let me se 
 whether thou darest agayne interrupte me 
 And what thou wolde ones to it say 
 
. 
 
 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 123 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 egyn & proue whether I wyll ye or nay 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 And to go forthe where as I lefte right now 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Because som percase wyll thynke amysse of me 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Our lorde in the gospell sheweth the way how 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Ye shall now here the popys auctoryte 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 By gogges soule knaue I suffre the no lenger 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 I say some good body lende me his hengar 
 And I shall hym teche by god almyght 
 How he shall a nother tyme lerne for to fyght 
 I shall make that balde crown of his to loke rede 
 I shall leue him but one ere on his hede 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 But I shall leue the neuer an ere or I go 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Ye horeson frere wylt thou so 
 
 [Than the fyght. 
 
124 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Lose thy hands away from myn earys 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Than take thou thy handes away from my heres 
 Nay abyde thou horeson I am not downe yet 
 I trust fyrst to lye the at my fete 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Ye horeson wylt thou scrat and byte 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Ye mary wyll I as longe as thou doste smyte 
 {The curate.*) 
 
 PARSO. 
 
 Holde your handes a vengeaunce on ye bothe two 
 That euer ye came hyther to make this a do 
 To polute my chyrche a myschyefe on you lyght 
 I swere to you by god all myght 
 Ye shall bothe repente euery vayne of your harte 
 As sore as ye dyd euer thynge or ye departe 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Mayster parson I maruayll ye wyll gyue lycence 
 
 To this false knaue in this audience 
 
 To publysh his ragman rolles with lyes 
 
 I desyred hym y wys more than ones or twyse 
 
 To holde his peas tyll that I had done 
 
 But he wolde here no more than the man in the mone 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Why sholde I smTre the more than thou me 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 125 
 
 Mayster parson gaue nie lycence before the 
 
 And I wolde thou knewyst it I haue relykes here 
 
 Other maner stuffe than thou dost here 
 
 I wyll edefy more with the syght of it 
 
 Than wyll all the pratynge of holy wryt 
 
 For that except that the precher hym selfe lyue well 
 
 His predycacyon wyll helpe neuer a dell 
 
 And I know well that thy lyuynge is nought 
 
 An honrycyde thou art I know well inoughe 
 
 For nry selfe knew where thou sloughe 
 
 A wenche with thy dagger in a couche 
 
 And yet as thou saist in thy sermo y l no ma shall touch 
 
 PARSO. 
 
 No more of this wranglyng in my chyrch 
 
 I shrewe your hartys bothe for this lurche 
 
 Is there any blood shed here betwen these knaues 
 
 Thanked be god they had no stauys 
 
 Nor egoteles for than it had ben wronge 
 
 Well ye shall synge another songe 
 
 Neybour prat com hether I you pray 
 
 PRAT. 
 
 Why what is this nyse fraye 
 
 PARSO. 
 
 I can not tell you one knaue dysdaynes another 
 Wherfore take ye the tone and I shall take the other 
 We shall bestow them there as is most conuenyent 
 For suche a couple I trow they shall repente 
 That euer they met in this chyrche here 
 Neyboure ye be constable stande ye nere 
 11 
 
126 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 Take ye that laye knaue and let me alone 
 
 With this gentylinan by god and by saynt Iohn 
 
 I shall borowe vpon prestholde somwhat 
 
 For I may say to the neybour prat 
 
 It is a good dede to punysh such to the ensample 
 
 Of suche other how that they shall mell 
 
 In lyke facyon as these catyfes do 
 
 In good fayth mayster parson yf ye do so 
 Ye do but well to teche them to be ware 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Mayster prat I pray ye me to spare 
 
 For I am sory for that that is done 
 
 Wherfore I pray ye forgyue me sone 
 
 For that I haue offendyd within your lybertye 
 
 And by my trouthe syr ye may trust me 
 
 I wyll neuer come hether more 
 
 Whyle I lyue and god before 
 
 PRAT. 
 
 Nay I am ones charged with the 
 
 Wherfore by saynt Iohn thou shalt not escape me 
 
 Tyll thou hast scouryd a pare of stokys 
 
 PARSO. 
 
 Tut he weneth all is but mockes 
 
 Lay hande on hym and com ye on syr frere 
 
 Ye shall of me hardely haue your hyre 
 
 Ye had none suche this. vii. yere 
 
 I swere by god and by our lady dere 
 
THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 127 
 
 PARDONER. 
 
 Nay mayster parson for gocldys passjon 
 
 Intreate not me after that facyon 
 
 For yf ye do it wyll not be for your honesty 
 
 PARSO. 
 
 Honesty or not but thou shall se 
 What I shall do by and by 
 Make no stroglynge com forthe soberly 
 For it shall not auayle the I say 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Mary that shall we trye euen strayt way 
 
 I defy the churle preeste & there be no mo than thou 
 
 I wyll not go with the I make god a vow 
 
 We shall se fyrst which is the stronger 
 
 God hath sent me bonys I do the not fere 
 
 PARSO. 
 
 Ye by thy fayth wylt thou be there 
 Neybour prat brynge forthe that knaue 
 And thou syr frere yf thou wylt algatys raue 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Nay chorle I the defy 
 
 I shall trouble the fyrst 
 
 Thou shalt go to pryson by and by 
 
 Let me se now do thy worste 
 
 \Prat with the pardoner $ the parson with the frere 
 
 PARSO. 
 
 Helpe helpe neybour prat neybour prat 
 In the worship of god helpe me som what 
 
128 THE PARDONER AND THE FRERE. 
 
 PRAT. 
 
 Nay deale as thou canst with that elfe 
 
 For why I haue inoughe to do my selfe 
 
 Alas for payn I am almoste dede 
 
 The reede Mood so ronneth downe aboute my hede 
 
 Nay and thou canst I pray the helpe me 
 
 PARSO. 
 
 Nay by the mas felowe it wyll not be 
 
 I haue more tow on my dystaffe tha I can well spyn 
 
 The cursed frere dothe the vpper hande wyn 
 
 FRERE. 
 
 Wyll ye leue than and let vs in peace departe 
 
 PS. & PR. 
 
 Ye by our lady euen with all our harte 
 
 FRE. PD. 
 
 Than adew to the deuyll tyll we come agayn 
 
 PSO. PR. 
 
 And a myschefe go with you bothe twayne. 
 
 Imprynted by "Wyllyam Rastell the. v. day 
 of Apryll the yere of our lorde. M. 
 
 ccccc.xxxin. 
 
 Cum priuilegio. 
 
Socasta* 
 
 n 
 
IOCASTA: 
 
 A Tragedie written in 
 
 Greke by Euripides, translated 
 
 and digested into Acte by George Gas- 
 coy gne, and Francis Kinvvelmershe 
 of Grayes Inne, 
 and there by them presented. 
 1566. 
 
 The argument of the Tragedie. 
 
 To scourge the cryme of wicked Laius, 
 And wrecke the foule Incest of Oedipus, 
 The angry Gods styrred vp theyr sonnes, by strife 
 With blades embrewed to reaue eche others life : 
 The wyfe, the mother, and the concubyne, 
 Whose fearefull hart foredrad theyr fatall fine, 
 Hir sonnes thus dead, disdayneth longer lyfe, 
 And slayes hirself with selfsame bloudy knyfe : 
 The daughter she, surprisde wyth childish dreacle 
 (That durst not dye) a lothsome lyfe doth leade, 
 Yet rather chose to guyde hir banysht sire, 
 Than cruell Creon should haue his desire. 
 Creon is King, the type of Tyranny, 
 And Oedipus, myrrour of misery. 
 Fortunatus Infcelix. 
 
THE NAMES OF THE INTERLOQUUTORS. 
 
 > sonnes to Oedipus & the Queene. 
 
 Iocasta, the Queene. 
 
 Seruus, a noble man of the Queenes traine. 
 Bailo, gouernour to the Queenes sonnes. 
 Antygone, daughter to the Queene. 
 Chorus, foure Thebane dames. 
 Pollynices & 
 Eteocles 
 Creon, the Queenes brother. 
 Meneceus, sonne to Creon. 
 Tyresias, the diuine priest. 
 Manto, the daughter of Tyresias. 
 Sacerdos, the sacrifycing priest. 
 Nuntij, three messangers from the campe. 
 
 Oedipus, the olde King father to Eteocles, and Pollynices, sonne and 
 husbande to Iocasta the Queene. 
 
 The Tragedie represented in Thebes. 
 
IOC A ST A 
 
 THE ORDER OF THE DUMME SHEWES AND 
 MUSICKES BEFORE EUERY ACTE. 
 
 First, before the beginning of the firste Acte, did sounde 
 a dolefull and straunge noyse of violles, Cythren, Bandit- 
 rion, and suche like, during the which, there came in vpon 
 the Stage a king with an Imperiall Crowne vpon his head, 
 very richely apparelled, a Scepter in his right hande, a 
 Mounde with a Crosse in his left hande, sitting in a Char- 
 iote very richely furnished, draivne in by foure kinges in 
 their Dublettes and Hosen, with Crownes also vpon their 
 heades : Representing vnto vs Ambition, by the hystorie of 
 Sesostres king of Egypt, who beeing in his time and reigne 
 a mightie Coyiquerour, yet not content to haue subdued 
 many Princes, and taken from them their king domes and 
 dominions, did in lyke maner cause those Kinges whome he 
 had so ouercome, to drawe in his Chariote like Beastes and 
 Oxen, thereby to content his vnbrideled ambitious desire. 
 
134 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 
 After he had beene drawne tivyce about the Stage, and re- 
 tyred, the MusieJce ceased, and Iocasta the Queene issued 
 out of Mr house, beginning the first Acte, as followeth. 
 
 Iocasta the Queene issueth out of Mr Pallace, before 
 Mr twelue Gentlemen very brauely apparelled, following 
 after Mr eight G-entlewomen, whereof foure be the Chorus 
 that remayne on the Stage after Mr departure. At Mr 
 entrance the Trumpettes sounded, and after she had gone 
 once aboute the Stage, she turneth to one of Mr moste 
 trustie and estemed seruaunts, and vnto him she discloseth 
 Mr grief e, as foloiveth. 
 
 THE FIRST ACTE. THE FIRST SCENE. 
 
 IOCASTA. SERVVS. 
 
 Ofaithfull seruaunt of mine auncient sire, 
 Though vnto thee, sufficiently be knowen 
 The whole discourse of my recurelesse griefe 
 By seing me from Princes royall state 
 Thus basely brought into so great cotempt, 
 As mine owne sonnes repine to heare my plaint, 
 Now of a Queene but barely bearing name, 
 Seyng this towne, seyng my fleshe and bloude, 
 Against it selfe to leuie threatning armes, 
 (Wherof to talke my heart it rendes in twaine) 
 Yet once againe, I must to thee recompte 
 The wailefull thing that is alredy spred, 
 
 
IOCASTA. 
 
 135 
 
 Bycause I know, that pitie will conipell 
 
 Thy tender hart, more than my naturall chilcle, 
 
 With ruthfull teares to mone my mourning case. 
 
 SERVVS. 
 
 My gracious Queene, as no man might surmount 
 
 The constant faith I beare my souraine lorde, 
 
 So doe I thinke, for loue and trustie zeale, 
 
 No sonne you haue, doth owe you more than I : 
 
 For hereunto I am by dutie bounde, 
 
 With seruice meete no lesse to honor you, 
 
 Than that renoumed prince your deere father. 
 
 And as my duties be most infinite, 
 
 So infinite, must also be my loue : 
 
 Then if my life or spending of my bloude 
 
 May be employed to doe your highnesse good, 
 
 Commaunde (0 queene) commaund this carcasse here. 
 
 In spite of death to satisfie thy will, 
 
 So, though I die, yet shall my willing ghost 
 
 Contentedly forsake this withered corps, 
 
 For ioy to thinke I neuer shewde my selfe 
 
 Ingratefull once to suche a worthy Queene. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Thou knowst what care my carefull father tooke, 
 
 In wedlockes sacred state to settle me 
 
 With Laius, king of this vnhappie Thebs, 
 
 That most vnhappie nowe our Citie is : 
 
 Thou knowst, how he, desirous still to searche 
 
 The hidden secrets of supernal! powers, 
 
 Unto Diuines did make his ofte recourse, 
 
 Of them to learne when he should haue a sonne, 
 
136 IOCASTA. 
 
 That in his Realme might after him succeede : 
 
 Of whom receiuing answere sharpe and sowre, 
 
 That his owne sonne should worke his wailful ende, 
 
 The wretched king (though all in vajne) did seeke 
 
 For to eschew that could not be eschewed : 
 
 And so, forgetting lawes of natures loue, 
 
 No sooner had this paynfull wombe brought foorth 
 
 His eldest sonne to this desired light, 
 
 But straight he chargde a trustie man of his 
 
 To beare the childe into a desert wood, 
 
 And leaue it there, for Tigers to deuoure. 
 
 SERVVS. 
 
 lucklesse babe, begot in wofull houre. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 His seruant thus obedient to his hest, 
 
 Up by the heeles did hang this faultlesse Impe, 
 
 And percing with a knife his tender feete, 
 
 Through both the wounds did drawe the slender twigs, 
 
 Which beeing bound about his feeble limmes, 
 
 Were strong inough to holde the little soule. 
 
 Thus did he leaue this infant scarcely borne, 
 
 That in short time must needes haue lost his life, 
 
 If destenie (that for our greater greefes 
 
 Decreede before to keepe it still alyue) 
 
 Had not vnto this childe sent present helpe : 
 
 For so it chaunst, a shepheard passing by, 
 
 With pitie moude, did stay his giltlesse death : 
 
 He toke him home, and gaue him to his wife, 
 
 With homelie fare to fede and foster vp : 
 
 Now harken how the heauens haue wroughte the way 
 
 To Laius death, and to mine owne decay. 
 
IOCASTA. 137 
 
 SERVVS. 
 
 „ Experience proues, and daily is it seene, 
 
 „ In vaine, too vaine man striues against the heauens. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Not farre fro thence, the mightie Polibus, 
 Of Corinth King, did kepe his princely court, 
 Unto whose wofull wife (lamenting muche 
 She had no ofspring by hir noble pheere) 
 The curteous shepherd gaue my little sonne : 
 Which gratefull gift, the Queene did so accept, 
 As nothing seemde more precious in hir sight : 
 Partly, for that, his faitures were so fine, 
 Partly, for that, he was so beautifull, 
 And partly, for bycause his comely grace 
 Gaue great suspicion of his royall bloude. 
 The infant grewe, and many yeares was demde 
 Polibus sonne, till tyme, that Oedipus 
 (For so he named was) did vnderstande 
 That Polibus was not his sire in deede, 
 Wherby forsaking frencles and countrie there, 
 He did returne to seke his natiue stocke : 
 And being come into Phocides lande, 
 Toke notice of the cursed oracle, 
 How first he shoulde his father doe to death, 
 And then become his mothers wedded mate. 
 
 -SERVVS. 
 
 fierce aspecte of cruell planets all, 
 
 That can decree such seas of heynous faultes. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Then Oedipus, fraight ful of chilling feare, 
 12 
 
138 IOCASTA. 
 
 By all meanes sought t'auoyde this furious fate, 
 
 But whiles he weende to shunne the shamefull dede, 
 
 Unluckly guyded by his owne mishappe, 
 
 He fell into the snare that most he feared : 
 
 For loe, in Phocides did Laius lye, 
 
 To ende the broyles that ciuill discorde then 
 
 Had raysed vp in that vnquiet lande, 
 
 By meanes wherof my wofull Oedipus, 
 
 Affording ayde vnto the other side, 
 
 With murdring blade vnwares his father slewe. 
 
 Thus heauenly doome, thus fate, thus powers diuine, 
 
 Thus wicked reade of Prophets tooke effect : 
 
 Nowe onely restes to ende the bitter happe 
 
 Of me, of me his miserable mother. 
 
 Alas, howe colde I feele the quaking bloud 
 
 Passe too and fro within my trembling brest ? 
 
 Oedipus, when this bloudy deede was doone, 
 
 Forst foorth by fatal! doome, to Thebes came, 
 
 Where as ful soone with glory he atchieude 
 
 The crowne and scepter of this noble lande, 
 
 By conquering Sphinx that cruell monster loe, 
 
 That earst destroyde this goodly flouring soyle : 
 
 And thus did I (0 hatefull thing to heare) 
 
 To my owne Sonne become a wretched wife. 
 
 SERVVS. 
 
 No meruayle, though the golden Sunne withdrew 
 His glittering beames from suche a sinfull facte. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 And so by him that from this belly sprang, 1 
 
 I brought to light (0 cursed that I am) \ 
 
IOCASTA. 139 
 
 As well two sonnes, as daughters also twayne : 
 
 But when this monstruous manage was disclosde, 
 
 So sore began the rage of boyling wrath 
 
 To swell within the furious brest of him, 
 
 As he him selfe by stresse of his owne nayles 
 
 Out of his head did teare his griefull eyne, 
 
 Unworthy more to see the shining light. 
 
 SERVVS. 
 
 Howe coulde it be, that knowing he had done 
 So foule a blot, he would remayne aliue ? 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 „ So deepely faulteth none, the which vnwares 
 „ Dothe fall into the crime he can not shunne : 
 And he (alas) vnto his greater greefe, 
 Prolongs the date of his accursed dayes, 
 Knowing that life dothe more and more increase 
 The cruell plagues of his detested gilte, 
 „ Where stroke of griesly death dothe set an ende 
 „ Unto the pangs of mans increasing payne. 
 
 SERVVS. 
 
 Of others all, moste cause haue we to mone 
 Thy wofull smarte (0 miserable Queene) 
 Suche and so many are thy greeuous harmes. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Now to the ende this blinde outragious sire 
 Should reape no ioy of his vnnaturall fruite, 
 His wretched sonnes, prickt foorth by furious spight, 
 Adiudge their father to perpetuall prison : 
 
140 IOCASTA. 
 
 There buried in the depthe of dungeon darke, 
 (Alas) he leades his discontented lyfe, 
 Accursing still his stony harted sonnes, 
 And wishing all th'infernall sprites of hell, 
 To breathe suche poysned hate into their brestes, 
 As eche with other fall to bloudy warres, 
 And so with pricking poynt of piercing blade. 
 To rippe their bowels out, that eche of them 
 With others bloud might stayne his giltie hands, 
 And bothe at once by stroke of speedie death 
 Be foorthwith throwne into the Stigian lake. 
 
 SERVVS. 
 
 The mightie Gods preuent so fowle a deede. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 They to auoyde the wicked blasphemies, 
 And sinfull prayer of their angrie sire, 
 Agreed thus, that of this noble realme, 
 Untill the course of one full yere was runne, 
 Eteocles should sway the kingly mace, 
 And Polynice as exul should departe, 
 Till time expyrde : and then to Polynice 
 Eteocles should yeelde the scepter vp : 
 Thus yere by yere the one succeeding other, 
 This royall crowne should vnto bothe remayne. 
 
 SERVVS. 
 
 Oh thunbridled mindes of ambicious men. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Eteocles, thus plast in princely seate, 
 
IOCASTA. 141 
 
 Drunke with the sugred taste of kingly raigne, 
 Not onely shut his brother from the crowne, 
 But also from his natiue country soyle. 
 Alas poore Polynice, what might he doe, 
 Uniustly by his brother thus betrayed ? 
 To Argos he, with sad and heauie cheere 
 Forthwith conuayde him selfe, on whom at length 
 With fauning face good fortune smyled so, 
 As with Adrastus king of Argiues there, 
 He founde suche fauour and affinitie, 
 As to restore my sonne vnto his raigne, 
 He hath besedge this noble citie Thebes. 
 And hence proceedes, my most extreme annoy e : 
 For, of my sonnes, who euer doe preuaile, 
 The victorie will turne vnto my griefe : 
 Alas, I feare (such is the chaunce of warre) 
 That one, or both shall purchase death therby. 
 Wherfore, to shunne the worst that may befall, 
 Thoughe comfortlesse, yet as a pitifull mother 
 Whom nature bindes to loue hir louing sonnes, 
 And to prouide the best for their auaile, 
 I haue thought good by prayers to intreate 
 The two brethren (nay rather cruell foes) 
 A while to staie their fierce and furious fight, 
 Till I haue tried by meanes for to appease, 
 The swelling wrath of their outraging willes. 
 And so with much to doe, at my request 
 They haue forborne vnto this onely houre. 
 
 SERVVS. 
 
 Small space god wot, to stint so great a strife, 
 12* 
 
142 IOCASTA. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 And euen right now, a trustie man of mine, 
 Returned from the campe, enforming me 
 That Polynice will straight to Thebes come, 
 Thus of my woe, this is the wailefull some. 
 And for by cause, in vaine and bootelesse plainte 
 I haue small neede to spend this litle time, 
 Here will I ceasse, in wordes more to bewray 
 The restlesse state of my afflicted minde, 
 Desiring thee, thou goe to Eteocles, 
 Hartly on my behalfe beseching him, 
 That out of hand according to his promise, 
 He will vouchsafe to come vnto my courte, 
 I know he loues thee well, and to thy wordes 
 I thinke thou knowst he will giue willing eare. 
 
 SERVVS. 
 
 (0 noble Queene) sith vnto such affayres 
 
 My spedie diligence is requisite, 
 
 I will applie effectually to doe 
 
 What so your highnesse hath commaunded me. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 I wil goe in, and pray the Gods therwhile, 
 
 With tender pitie to appease my griefe. 
 
 [Iocasta goeth off the stage into Mr pallace, Mr four e 
 handmaides follow Mr, the four e Chorus also fol~ 
 lowe Mr to the gates of Mr pallace, after eomming 
 on the stage, take their place, where they continue 
 to the end of the Tragedie. 
 
IOCASTA. 143 
 
 SERVVS SOLVS. 
 
 „ The simple man, whose meruaile is so great 
 
 „ At stately courts, and princes regall seates, 
 
 „ With gasing eye but onely doth regarde 
 
 „ The golden glosse that outwardly appeares, 
 
 „ The crownes bedeckt with pearle and precious stones, 
 
 „ The riche attire imbost with beaten golde, 
 
 „ The glittering mace, the pompe of swarming traine, 
 
 „ The mightie halles heapt full of nattering frendes, 
 
 „ The huge chambers, the goodly gorgeous beddes, 
 
 „ The gilted roofes, embowde with curious worke, 
 
 „ The sweete faces of fine disdayning dames, 
 
 „ The vaine suppose of wanton raigne at luste : 
 
 „ But neuer viewes with eye of inward thought, 
 
 „ The painefull toile, the great and greuous cares, 
 
 „ The troubles still, the newe increasing feares, 
 
 „ That princes nourish in their iealous brestes : 
 
 „ He wayeth not the charge that Ioue hath laid 
 
 „ On princes, how for themselues they raigne not : 
 
 „ He weenes, the law must stoope to princely will, 
 
 „ But princes frame there noble wills to lawe : 
 
 „ He knoweth not, that as the boystrous winde 
 
 „ Doth shake the toppes of highest reared towres, 
 
 „ So doth the force of frowarde fortune strike 
 
 „ The wighte that highest sits in haughtie state. 
 
 Lo Oedipus, that sometime raigned king 
 
 Of Thebane soyle, that wonted to suppresse 
 
 The mightiest Prince, and kepe him vnder checke, 
 
 That fearfull was vnto his forraine foes, 
 
 Now like a poore afflicted prisoner, 
 
144 IOCASTA. 
 
 In dungeon darke, shut vp from cheerefull light, 
 
 In euery part so plagued with annoy, 
 
 As he abhorres to leade a longer life, 
 
 By meanes wherof, the one against the other 
 
 His wrathfull sonnes haue planted all their force, 
 
 And Thebes here, this auncient worthy towne, 
 
 With threatning siege girt in on euerie side, 
 
 In daunger lyes to be subuerted quite, 
 
 If helpe of heauenly Ioue vpholde it not, 
 
 But as darke night succedes the shining day, 
 
 So lowring griefe comes after pleasant ioy. 
 
 Well now the charge hir highnesse did commaund 
 
 I must fulfill, though haplie all in vaine. 
 
 \_Seruus goeth off the stage by the gates called JElec- 
 trai. Antygone attended with. iij. gentleivomen 
 and hir gouernour commeth out of the Queene hir 
 mothers Pallaee. 
 
 BAILO. ANTIGONE. 
 
 gentle daughter of King Oedipus, 
 
 sister deare to that vnhappie wight 
 Whom brothers rage hath reaued of his right, 
 To whom, thou knowst, in yong and tender yeares 
 
 1 was a friend and faithfull gouernour, 
 Come forth, sith that hir grace hath graunted leaue, 1 
 And let me knowe what cause hath moued nowe I 
 So chaste a maide to set hir daintie foote 3 
 Ouer the thresholde of hir secrete lodge ? 1 
 Since that the towne is furnishte euery where 
 With men of amies and warlike instrumentes, 
 
IOCASTA. 14o 
 
 Unto our eares there c5mes no other noyse, 
 
 But sounde of trumpe, and neigh of trampling stedes, 
 
 Which running vp and downe from place to place, 
 
 With hideous cries betoken bloude and death : 
 
 The biasing sunne ne shine th halfe so brighte, 
 
 As it was wont to doe at dawne of daye : 
 
 The wretched dames throughout the wofull towne, 
 
 Together clustring to the temples goe, 
 
 Beseching Ioue by way of humble plainte, 
 
 With tender ruthe to pitie their distresse. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 The loue I beare to my sweete Polynice, 
 My deare brother, is onely cause hereof. 
 
 BAILO. 
 
 Why daughter, knowst thou any remedie 
 How to defend thy fathers citie here 
 From that outrage and fierce repyning wrathe, 
 Which he against it, iustly hath concerned ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Oh gouernour might this my faultlesse bloude 
 Suffise to stay my brethrens dyre debate, 
 With glad consent I coulde afford my life 
 Betwixt them both to plant a perfect peace : 
 But since (alas) I cannot as I woulde, 
 A hote desire inflames my feruent mind 
 To haue a sight of my sweete Pollynice. 
 Wherfore (good guide) vouchsafe to guide me vp 
 Into some tower aboute this hugie court, 
 From whence I may behold our enemies campe, 
 
146 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Therby at least to feede my hungry eyes 
 But with the sight of my beloued brother 
 Then if I die, contented shall I die. 
 
 BAILO. 
 
 princely dame, the tender care thou takste 
 Of thy deare brother, deserueth double praise : 
 Yet crau'st thou that, which cannot be obtainde, 
 By reason of the distance from the towne 
 Unto the plaine, where tharmie lies incampt : 
 And furthermore, besemeth not a maide 
 To shew hir selfe in such vnsemely place, 
 Wheras among such yong and lustie troupes 
 Of harebrainde souldiers marching to and fro, 
 Both honest name and honour is empairde : 
 But yet reioyce, sith this thy great desire, 
 Without long let, or yet without thy paine, 
 At wishe and will shall shortly be fulfillde. 
 For Polynice forthwith will hither come, 
 Euen I my selfe was lately at the campe, 
 Commaunded by the Queene to bid him come, 
 Who laboureth still to linke in frendly league, 
 Hir iarring sonnes (which happe so hoped for, 
 Eftsones I pray the gracious gods to graunt) 
 And sure I am, that ere this houre passe, 
 Thou shalt him here in person safely see. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 louing frend, doest thou then warrant me, 
 That Polynice will come vnto this court ? 
 
 BAILO. 
 
 Ere thou be ware thou shalt him here beholde. 
 
IOCASTA. 147 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 And who (alas) doth warrant his aduenture. 
 That of Eteocles he take no haraie ? 
 
 BAILO. 
 
 For constant pledge, he hath his brothers faith, 
 He hath also the truce that yet endures. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 I feare alas, alas I greatly feare, 
 
 Some trustlesse snare his cruell brother layes 
 
 To trappe him in. 
 
 BAILO. 
 
 Daughter, god knowes how willing I would be 
 
 With sweete reliefe to comfort thy distresse, 
 
 But I cannot impart to thee, the good 
 
 Which I my selfe doe not as yet enioye. 
 
 The wailefull cause that moues Eteocles 
 
 With Pollinyce to enter ciuill warres 
 
 Is ouergreat, and for this onely cause 
 
 Full many men haue broke the lawes of truth, 
 
 And topsieturuie turned many townes. 
 
 „ To gredie (daughter) tootoo gredie is 
 
 „ Desire to rule and raigne in kingly state. 
 
 Ne can he bide, that swaise a realme alone 
 
 To haue another ioynde with him therin : 
 
 Yet must we hope for helpe of heauenly powers, 
 
 Sith they be iuste, their mercy is at hand, 
 
 To helpe the weake when worldly force doth faile. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 As both my brethren be, so both I beare 
 
148 IOCASTA. 
 
 As much goodwill as any sister may, 
 But yet the wrong that vnto Pollinyce 
 This trothlesse tyrant hath vniustlie shewd, 
 Doth leade me more, to wishe the prosperous life, 
 Of Pollinyce, than of that cruell wretch. 
 Besides that, Pollinyce whiles he remainde 
 In Thebes here, did euer loue me more, 
 Than did Eteocles, whose swelling hate 
 Is towardes me increased more and more : 
 Wherof I partly may assure my selfe, 
 Considering he disdaynes to visite me, 
 Yea, happly he intends to reaue my life, 
 And hauing power he will not sticke to doe it. 
 This therefore makes me earnestly desire 
 Oftymes to see him : yet euer as I thinke 
 For to discharge the duetie of a sister, 
 The feare I haue of hurt, doth chaunge as fast 
 My doubtfull loue into disdaynefull spight. 
 
 BMLO. 
 
 Yet daughter, must ye trust in mightie loue, 
 His will is not, that for thoffence of one 
 So many suffer vndeserued smarte : ' 
 I meane of thee, I meane of Polinyce, 
 Of Iocasta thy wofull aged mother, 
 And of Ismena thy beloued sister. 
 Who though for this she dothe not outwardly 
 From drearie eyen distill lamenting teares, 
 Yet do I thinke, no lesse afflicting griefe 
 Dothe inwardly torment hir tender brest. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Besides all this, a certayne ielousie, 
 
IOCASTA. 149 
 
 Lately conceyude (I knowe not whence it springs) 
 Of Creon, my mothers brother, appaules me muche, 
 Him doubt I more than any danger else. 
 
 BAILO. 
 
 Deare daughter, leaue this foolishe ielousie, 
 And seeing that thou shalt heere shortly finde 
 Thy brother Polinyce, go in agayne. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 ioyfull would it be to me therwhile, 
 To vnderstande the order of the hoste, 
 If it be suche as haue sufficient power 
 
 To ouerthrowe this mightie towne of Thebs. 
 
 What place supplies my brother Polynice ? 
 
 Where founde ye hym ? what answere did he giue ? 
 
 And though so great a care perteineth not 
 
 Unto a mayde of my vnskilfull yeres, 
 
 Yet, for bicause my selfe partaker am 
 
 Of good and euill with this my countrey soyle, 
 
 1 long to heare thee tell those fearfull newes, 
 Which otherwise I can not vnderstande. 
 
 BAILO. 
 
 So noble a desire (0 worthy dame) 
 I muche commende : and briefly as I can, 
 Will satisfie thy hungry minde herein. 
 The power of men that Polinyce hath brought, 
 (Wherof he, (being Adrastus sonne in lawe) 
 Takes chiefest charge) is euen the floure of Grece, 
 Whose hugie traine so mightie seemes to be, 
 As I see not, how this our drouping towne 
 13 
 
150 IOCASTA. 
 
 Is able to withstand so strong a siege. 
 
 Entring the fielde their armie did I finde 
 
 So orderly in forme of battaile set, 
 
 As though they would forthwith haue giuen the charge 
 
 In battailes seauen the host deuided is, 
 
 To eche of which, by order of the king, 
 
 A valiant knight for captaine is assignde : 
 
 And as you know this citie hath seuen gates, 
 
 So euerie captaine hath his gate prescribde, 
 
 With fierce assault to make his entrie at. 
 
 And further, passing through our frouning foes 
 
 (That gaue me countenance of a messanger) 
 
 Harde by the King I spied Pollinyce, 
 
 In golden glistring armes most richely cladde, 
 
 Whose person many a stately prince enpalde, 
 
 And many a comely crowned head enclosde : 
 
 At sight of me his colour straight he chaungde 
 
 And like a louing childe in clasped armes 
 
 He caught me vp, and frendly kist my cheke, 
 
 Then hearing what his mother did demaunde 
 
 With glad consent according to hir hest 
 
 Gaue me his hand, to come vnto the court, 
 
 Of mutuall truce desirous so he seemde, 
 
 He askt me of Antygone, and Ismena. 
 
 But chiefelie vnto thee aboue the rest 
 
 He gaue me charge most hartely to commend him. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 The gods giue grace he may at length possesse 
 His kingly right and I his wished sight. 
 
 BAILO. 
 
 Daughter no more, t'is time ye nowe returne 
 
IOCASTA. 
 
 151 
 
 It standeth not with the honor of your state 
 
 Thus to be seene suspiciouslie abrode : 
 
 „ For vulgar tongues are armed euermore 
 
 „ With slaunderous brute to bleamishe the renoume 
 
 „ Of vertues dames, which though at first it spring 
 
 „ Of slender cause, yet doth it swell so fast, 
 
 „ As in short space it filleth euerie eare 
 
 „ With swifte report of vndeserued blame : 
 
 „ You cannot be too curious of your name, 
 
 „ Fond she we of euill (though still the minde be chast) 
 
 „ Decayes the credite oft, that Ladies had, 
 
 „ Sometimes the place presumes a wanton mynde : 
 
 „ Repayre sometymes of some, doth hurt their honor : 
 
 „ Sometimes the light and garishe proude attire 
 
 „ Persuades a yelding bent of pleasing youthes. 
 
 The voyce that goeth of your vnspotted fame, 
 
 Is like a tender floure, that with the blast 
 
 Of euerie litle winde doth fade away. 
 
 Goe in deere childe, this way will I goe see 
 
 If I can meete thy brother Pollinyce. 
 
 [ Antigone with Mr maides retumeth into Mr mothers 
 
 pallaee, Mr gouernour goeth oute by the gates 
 
 Homoloydes. 
 
 CHOEVS. 
 
 If greedie lust of mans ambitious eye 
 
 (That thristeth so for swaye of earthly things) 
 
 Would eke foresee, what mischiefes growe therby, 
 
 What carefull toyle to quiet state it brings, 
 
 What endlesse griefe from such a fountaine springs : 
 
152 IOCASTA. 
 
 Then should he swimme in seas of sweete delight, 
 That nowe complaines of fortunes cruell spight. 
 
 For then he would so safely shielde himselfe 
 With sacred rules of wisedomes sage aduise, 
 As no alluring trayne of trusties pelfe, 
 To fonde affectes his fancie should entise, 
 Then warie heede would quickly make him wise : 
 Where contrary (such is our skillesse kind) 
 We most doe seeke, that most may hurt the minde. 
 
 Amid the troupe of these vns table toyes, 
 Some fancies loe to beautie most be bent, 
 Some hunt for wealth, and some set all their ioyes, 
 In regall power of princely gouemement, 
 Yet none of these from care are cleane exempt : 
 For either they be got with grieuous toyle, 
 Or in the ende forgone with shamefull foyle. 
 
 This flitting world doth firmely nought retaine, 
 Wherin a man may boldly rest his trust, 
 Such fickle chaunce in fortune doth remaine, 
 As when she lust, she threatneth whom she lust, 
 From high renoume to throwe him in the dust : 
 Thus may we see that eche triumphing ioye 
 By fortunes froune is turned to annoye. 
 
 Those elder heads may well be thought to erre, 
 The which for easie life and quiet dayes, 
 The vulgar sort would seeme for to preferre. 
 If glorious Phoebe, with-holde his glistring rayes, 
 From such a peere as crowne and scepter swayes, 
 No meruaile though he hide his heauenly face, 
 From vs that come of lesse renoumed race. 
 
 Selde shall you see the ruine of a Prince, 
 But that the people eke like brunt doe beare, 
 

 IOCASTA. 153 
 
 And olde recordes of auncient time long since, 
 From age to age, yea almost euerie where, 
 With proofe hereof hath glutted euery eare : 
 Thus by the follies of the princes harte, 
 The bounden subiect stil receiueth smart. 
 
 Loe, how vnbrideled lust of priuate raigne, 
 Hath pricked both the brethren vnto warre : 
 Yet Pollinyce, with signe of lesse disdaine, 
 Against this lande hath brought from countries farre. 
 A forraine power, to end this cruell iarre, 
 Forgetting quite the dutie, loue, and zeale, 
 He ought to beare vnto this common weale. 
 
 But whosoeuer gets the victorie, 
 We wretched dames, and thou noble towne, 
 Shall feele therof the wofull miserie, 
 Thy gorgeous pompe, thy glorious high renoume, 
 Thy stately towers, and all shall fall a downe, 
 Sith raging Mars will eache of them assist 
 In others brest to bathe his bloudie fist. 
 
 But thou sonne of Semel, and of loue, 
 (That tamde the proude attempt of giaunts strong) 
 Doe thou defende, euen of thy tender loue, 
 Thy humble thralls from this afflicting wrong, 
 Whom wast of warre hath now tormented long : 
 So shall we neuer faile ne day ne night 
 With reuerence due thy prayses to resight. 
 
 Finis Actus primi. 
 Done by F. Kinvvelmarshe. 
 13* 
 
154 IOCASTA. 
 
 THORDER OF THE SECONDE DUMBE SHEVVE. 
 
 Before the beginniiig of this seconde Acte dyd sound a 
 very doleful noise of flutes , during the which there came 
 in vpon the stage two coffines couered with hearceclothes, $ 
 brought in by. viij. in mourning weed, $ accopanied with 
 viij. other mourners, $ after they had caried the coffins 
 about the stage, there opened $ appeared a Graue, wherin 
 they buried the coffins <f put fire to them, but the flames 
 did seuer $ parte in twaine, signifying discord by the 
 history of two brethre, whose discord in their life was not 
 onely to be wondred at, but being buried both in one Tombe 
 (as some ivriters affirme) the flames of their funeralls did 
 yet part the one fro the other in like manner, and ivould in 
 no wise ioyne into one flame. After the Funerals were 
 ended and the fire consumed, the graue was closed vp 
 again, the mourners withdrew the off the stage, $ imme- 
 diately by y e gates Homoloydes entred Pollinyces accom- 
 panied with. vj. gentlemen and a page that carried his 
 helmet and Target, he $ his men vnarmed sawing their 
 gorgets, for that they were permitted to come into the 
 towne in time of truce, to the end Io casta might bring the 
 tivo brethre to a parle, and Pollinyces after good regard 
 taken round about him, spake as followeth. 
 
IOCASTA. 155 
 
 ACTUS. 2. SCENA. 1. 
 
 POLLINYCES. CHORVS. IOCASTA. ETEOCLES, 
 
 LOE here mine owne citie and natiue soyle, 
 Loe here the nest I ought to nestle in, 
 Yet being thus entrencht with mine owne towres, 
 And that, from him the safeconduet is giuen 
 Which doth enioye as much as mine should be, 
 My feete can treade no step without suspect : 
 For where my brother bides, euen there behoues 
 More warie scout than in an enemy es campe. 
 Yet while I may within this right hand holde 
 This brond, this blade, (vnyelden euer yet) 
 My life shall not be lefte without reuenge. 
 But here beholde the holy sancturie, 
 Of Bacchus eke the worthy Image loe, 
 The aultars where the sacred flames haue shone, 
 And where of yore these giltlesse handes of mine 
 Full oft haue offered to our mightie gods. 
 I see also a worthie companie 
 Of Thebane dames, resembling vnto me 
 The traine of Iocasta my deare mother : 
 Beholde them clad in clothes of griesly blacke, 
 That hellishe hewe that nay for other harmes 
 So well besemed wretched wightes to weare : 
 For why, ere long their selues themselues shall see 
 (Gramercy to there princes tyrannie) 
 Some spoyled of their sweete and sucking babes, 
 Some lese their husband, other some their sire, 
 
156 IOCASTA. 
 
 And some their friends that were to them full dere. 
 
 But now tis time to lay this sworde aside, 
 
 And eke of them to knowe where is the Queene : 
 
 woorthie dames, heauie, vnhappie ye, 
 
 Where resteth now the restlesse queene of Thebes ? 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 woorthie impe sprong out of worthie race, 
 Renoumed Prince, whome wee haue lookt for long, 
 And nowe in happie houre arte come to vs, 
 Some quiet bring to this vnquiet realme. 
 
 queene, queene, come foorth and see thy sonne, 
 The gentle frute of all thy ioyfull seede. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 My faithfull frendes, my deare beloued maydes, 
 
 1 come at call, and at your wordes I moue 
 My feebled feete with age and agonie : 
 Where is my sonne ? tell me where is he, 
 For whome I sighed haue so often syth, 
 
 For whom I spende bothe nightes and dayes in teares ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Here noble mother, here, not as the king, 
 
 Nor as a Citizen of stately Thebes, 
 
 But as a straunger nowe, I thanke my brother. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 sonne, sweete and my desyred sonne, 
 
 These eyes they see, these handes of myne thee touche, 
 
 Yet scarsly can this mynde beleeue the same, 
 
 And scarsly can this brused breast susteyne 
 
IOCASTA. 157 
 
 The sodeyne ioye that is inclosed therein : 
 
 gladsome glasse, wherein I see my selfe. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 So graunt the Gods, that for our common good, 
 You freendly may your sonnes bothe frendes beholde. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 At thy departe, louely chylde, thou lefte 
 My house in teares, and mee thy wretched dame, 
 Myrrour of martirdome, waymenting still 
 Th'vnworthie exile thy brother to thee gaue : 
 Ne was there euer sonne or friende farre off, 
 Of his deare frendes or mother so desyred, 
 As thy returne, in all the towne of Thebes. 
 And of my selfe more than the rest to speake, 
 
 1 haue as thou mayste see, cleane cast asyde 
 My princely roabes, and thus in wofull weede, 
 Bewrapped haue these lustlesse limmes of myne : 
 Naught else but teares haue trickled from myne eyes, 
 And eke thy wretched blynde and aged syre, 
 
 Since first he hearde what warre tweene you there was, 
 
 As one that did his bitter cursse repent, 
 
 Or that he prayed to Ioue for your decaye, 
 
 With stretching string, or else with blouddie knyfe 
 
 Hath sought full ofte to ende his loathed lyfe. 
 
 Thou this meanewhyle my sonne, hast lingred long 
 
 In farre and forreyn coastes, and wedded eke, 
 
 By whome thou mayste, (when heauens appoyntes it so) 
 
 Straunge issue haue by one a stranger borne, 
 
 Whiche greeues me sore, and much the more deare chylde, 
 
 Bicause I was not present at the same, 
 
158 IOCASTA. 
 
 There to performe thy louing mothers due. 
 But for I fynde thy noble matche so meete, 
 And woorthie bothe for thy degree and byrthe, 
 I seeke to comforte thee by myne aduise, 
 That thou returne this citie to inhabite, 
 Whiche best of all may seeme to be the bowre, 
 Bothe for thy selfe and for thy noble spouse. 
 Forget thou then thy brothers iniuries, 
 And knowe deare chylde, the harme of all missehap, 
 That happes twixt you, must happe likewyse to mee : 
 Ne can the cruell swoorde so slightly touche 
 Your tender fleshe, but that the selfe same wounde 
 Shall deepely bruse this aged breast of myne. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 „ There is no loue may be comparde to that 
 „ The tender mother beares vnto hir chylde : 
 „ For euen so muche the more it dothe encrease, 
 „ As their griefe growes, or contentations cease. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 I knowe not mother, if I prayse deserue, 
 
 That (you to please, whome I ought not displease) 
 
 Haue traynde my selfe among my trustlesse foes : 
 
 But Nature drawes (whether he will or nill) 
 
 Eche man to loue his natiue countrey soyle : 
 
 And who shoulde say, that otherwise it were, 
 
 His toung should neuer with his heart agree. 
 
 This hath me drawne besyde my bounden due, 
 
 To set full light this lucklesse lyfe of myne : 
 
 For of my brother, what may I else hope, 
 
 But traynes of treason, force and falshoode bothe ? 
 
IOCASTA. 159 
 
 Yet neyther perill present, nor to come, 
 
 Can holde me from my due obedience : 
 
 I graunte I can not grieflesse, well beholde 
 
 My fathers pallace, the holie aultars, 
 
 Ne louely lodge wherein I fostred was : 
 
 From whence driuen out, and chaste vnworthily, 
 
 I haue too long aboade in forreyn coastes : 
 
 And as the growing greene and pleasant plante, 
 
 Dothe beare freshe braunches one aboue an other, 
 
 Euen so amidde the huge heape of my woes, 
 
 Dothe growe one grudge more greeuous than the rest, 
 
 To see my deare and dolefull mother, cladde 
 
 In mournyng tyre, to tyre Mr mourning mynde, 
 
 Wretched alonely for my wretchednesse, 
 
 So lykes that enimie my brother best : 
 
 Soone shall you see that in this wandring worlde, 
 
 No enmitie is equall vnto that 
 
 That darke disdayne (the cause of euery euill) 
 
 Dooth breede full ofte in consanguinitie. 
 
 But Ioue, he knowes what dole I doe endure, 
 
 For you and for my fathers wretched woe, 
 
 And eke howe deepely I desyre to knowe 
 
 What wearie lyfe my louing sisters leade, 
 
 And what anoye myne absence them hath giuen. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Alas, alas, howe wrekefull wrath of Gods 
 
 Dothe still afflicte Oedipus progenie : 
 
 The fyrste cause was thy fathers wicked bedde, 
 
 And then (Oh why doe I my plagues recompte ?) 
 
 My burdein borne, and your vnhappie birth : 
 
 „ But needes wee must with pacient heartes abyde, 
 
 „ What so from high the heauens doe prouide. 
 
160 IOCASTA. 
 
 With thee my chylde, fayne woulde I question yet 
 Of certaine things : ne woulde I that my woordes 
 Might thee anoye, ne yet renewe thy griefe. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Saye on, deare mother, say what so you please, 
 What pleaseth you, shall neuer mee disease. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 And se ernes it not a heauie happe my sonne, 
 To be depriued of thy countrey coastes ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 So heauie happe as toung can not expresse. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 And what may moste molest the mynde of man 
 That is exiled from his natiue soyle ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 The libertie hee with his countrey loste, 
 
 „ And that he lacketh freedome for to speake, 
 
 „ What seemeth best, without control! or checke. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Why so ? eche seruaunt lacketh libertie 
 
 To speake his mynde, without his masters leaue. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 „ In exile, euery man, or bonde or free, 
 „ Of noble race, or meaner parentage, 
 „ Is not in this vnlyke vnto the slaue, 
 
IOCASTA. 161 
 
 „ That muste of force obey to eche mans will, 
 
 „ And prayse the peeuishnesse of eche mans pryde. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 And seemed this so grieuous vnto thee ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 What griefe can greater be, than so constraynde, 
 Slauelyke to serue gaynst right and reason bothe, 
 Yea muche the more, to him that noble is, 
 By stately lyne, or yet by vertuous lyfe, 
 And hath a heart lyke to his noble mynde. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 What helpeth moste in suche aduersitie ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Hope helpeth moste to comfort miserie. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Hope to returne from whence he fyrst was driuen ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Yea, hope that happeneth oftentymes to late, 
 And many die before suche hap may fall. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 And howe didst thou before thy mariage sonne, 
 Mainteyne thy lyfe, a straunger so bestad ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Sometyme I founde (though seldome so it were) 
 14 
 
162 IOCASTA. 
 
 Some gentle heart, that coulde for curtesye, 
 Contente himselfe to succour myne estate. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Thy fathers friends and thyne, did they not helpe 
 For to releeue that naked neede of thyne ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Mother, he hath a foolishe fantasie, 
 
 „ That thinkes to fynde a frende in miserie. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Thou myghtst haue helpe by thy nobilitie. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 „ Couerd alas, in cloake of pouertie ? 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 ,, Wei ought we then that are but mortall heere, 
 „ Aboue all treasure counte our countrey deare : 
 Yet let me knowe my sonne, what cause thee moued 
 To goe to Grece ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 The flying fame that thundred in myne eares, 
 Howe king Adrastus, gouernour of Grece, 
 Was answered by Oracle, that he 
 Shoulde knitte in linkes of lawfull manage, 
 His two faire daughters, and his onely heires, 
 One to a Lyon, th'other to a Boare : 
 An answere suche as eche man wondred at. 
 
IOCASTA. 163 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 And how belongs this answere now to thee. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 I toke my gesse euen by this ensigne heere, 
 A Lyon loe, which I dyd alwayes beare : 
 Yet thynke I not, but Ioue alonely broughte 
 These handes of myne to suche an high exploite. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 And howe yet came it to this straunge effect ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 The shining day had runne his hasted course, 
 And deawie night bespread hir mantell darke, 
 When I that wandred after wearie toyle, 
 To seke some harbrough for myne irked limmes, 
 Gan fynde at last a little cabbin, close 
 Adioyned faste vnto the stately walles, 
 Where king Adrastus helde his royall towres. 
 Scarce was I there in quiet well ycoucht, 
 But thither came an other exile eke, 
 Named Tydeus, who straue perforce to driue 
 Mee from this sorie seate, and so at laste, 
 Wee settled vs to fell and blouddie fight, 
 Whereof the rumour grewe so greate foorthwith, 
 That straight the king enformed was thereof, 
 Who seeing then the ensignes that wee bare, 
 To be euen suche as were to him foresayde, 
 Chose eche of vs to be his sonne by lawe, 
 And sithens did solemnize eke the same. 
 
164 IOCASTA. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Yet woulde I know, if that thy wyfe be suche 
 As thou canst ioy in hir ? or what she is ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 mother deare, fayrer ne wyser dame 
 Is none in Greece, Argia is hir name. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Howe couldst thou to this doubtefull enterprise, 
 So many bring, thus armed all at once ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Adrastus sware, that he woulde soone restore 
 
 Unto our right both Tydeus, and me : 
 
 And fyrst for mee, that had the greater neede, 
 
 Whereby the best and boldest blouds in Greece, 
 
 Haue followed me vnto this enterpryse. 
 
 A thing both iuste and grieuous vnto mee, 
 
 Greeuous I saye, for that I doe lamente 
 
 To be constrained by suche open wrong, 
 
 To warre agaynst myne owne deare countrey feeres. 
 
 But vnto you (0 mother) dothe pertaine 
 
 To stinte this stryfe, and bothe deliuer mee 
 
 From exile now, and eke the towne from siege : 
 
 For otherwise, I sweare you here by heauens, 
 
 Eteocles, who now doth me disdayne 
 
 For brother, shortly shall see me his lorde. 
 
 1 aske the seate, wherof I ought of right 
 Possesse the halfe, I am Oedipus sonne, 
 And yours, so am I true sonne to you both. 
 Wherfore I hope that as in my defence 
 
 The worlde will weygh, so Ioue will me assiste. 
 
IOCASTA. 165 
 
 \Eteocles commeth in here by the gates Electrw, him- 
 self armed, and before him. xx. gentlemen in 
 armour, his tivo pages, wherof the one beareth 
 his Target, the other his helme. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 Beholde queene, beholde woorthie queene, 
 
 Unwoorthie he, Eteocles here comes, 
 
 So, woulde the Gods, that in this noble realme 
 
 Shoulde neuer long vnnoble tyrant reigne, 
 
 Or that with wrong the right and doubtlesse heire, 
 
 Shoulde banisht be out of his princely seate. 
 
 Yet thou queene, so fyle thy sugred toung, 
 
 And with suche counsell decke thy mothers tale, 
 
 That peace may bothe the brothers heartes inflame, 
 
 And rancour yelde, that erst possest the same. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Mother, beholde, youre hestes for to obey, 
 
 In person nowe am I resorted hither : 
 
 In haste therefore, fayne woulde I knowe what cause 
 
 With hastie speede, so moued hath your mynde 
 
 To call me nowe so causelesse out of tyme, 
 
 When common wealth moste craues my onely ayde : 
 
 Fayne woulde I knowe, what queynt commoditie 
 
 Persuades you thus to take a truce for tyme, 
 
 And yelde the gates wide open to my foe, 
 
 The gates that myght our stately state defende, 
 
 And nowe are made the path of our decay. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 „ Represse deare son, those raging stormes of wrath, 
 14* 
 
166 IOCASTA. 
 
 „ That so bedimme the eyes of thine intente, 
 
 ? 5 Jfil^But when disdayne is shrunke, or sette asyde, 
 
 ,, And mynde of man with leysure can discourse 
 
 „ What seemely woordes his tale may best beseeme, 
 
 „ And that the toung vnfoldes without affectes 
 
 „ Then may proceede an answere sage and graue, 
 
 „ And euery sentence sawst with sobernesse : 
 
 Wherfore vnbende thyne angrie browes deare chylde, 
 
 And caste thy rolling eyes none other waye, 
 
 That here doost not Medusaes face beholde, 
 
 But him, euen him, thy blood and brother deare. 
 
 And thou beholde, my Polinices eke, 
 
 Thy brothers face, wherin when thou mayst see 
 
 Thine owne image, remember therwithall, 
 
 That what offence thou woldst to him were done, 
 
 The blowes therof rebounde vnto thy selfe. 
 
 And hereof eke, I would you both forewarne, 
 
 When frendes or brethren, kinsfolke or allies, 
 
 (Whose hastie heartes some angrie moode had moued) 
 
 Be face to face by some of pitie brought, 
 
 Who seekes to ende their discorde and debate : 
 
 They onely ought consider well the cause 
 
 For which they come, and cast out of their mynde 
 
 For euermore the olde offences past : 
 
 So shall swete peace driue pleading out of place. 
 
 Wherfore the first shall Polinices be, 
 
 To tell what reason firste his mynde did rule, 
 
 That thus our wallcs with forrein foes enclosde 
 
 In sharpe reuenge of causelesse wrongs receiu'd, 
 
 As he alledgeth by his brothers doome : 
 
 And of this wicked woe and dire debate, 
 
 Some god of pitie be the equall iudge, 
 
IOCASTA. 167 
 
 Whome I beseeche, to breath in both your breasts 
 A y elding hearte to deepe desire of peace. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 „ My woorthie dame, I fynde that tryed truthe 
 
 „ Doth beste beseeme a simple naked tale, 
 
 „ Ne needes to be with painted proces prickt, 
 
 „ That in hir selfe hath no diuersitie, 
 
 „ But alwayes shewes one vndisguysed face, 
 
 „ Where deepe deceipt and lyes muste seeke the shade, 
 
 „ And wrap their wordes in guilefull eloquence, 
 
 „ As euer fraught with contrarietie : 
 
 So haue I often sayde, and say agayne, 
 
 That to auoide our fathers foule reproche 
 
 And bitter curse, I parted from this lande 
 
 With right good will, yet thus with him agreed, 
 
 That while the whirling wyngs of flying time 
 
 Might roll one yeare aboute the heauenly spheare, 
 
 So long alone he might with peace possesse 
 
 Our fathers seate in princely diademe, 
 
 And when the yeare should eke his course renue, 
 
 Might I succeede to rule againe as long. 
 
 And that this lawe might stil be kept for aye, 
 
 He bound him selfe by vowe of solemne oth 
 
 By Gods, by men, by heauen, and eke by earth : 
 
 Yet that forgot, without all reuerence 
 
 Unto the Gods, without respect to right, 
 
 Without respecte that reason ought to rule, 
 
 His faith and troth both troden vnder foote, 
 
 He still vsurps most tyrantlike with wrong 
 
 The right that doth of right to me belong. 
 
 But if he can with equall doome consent, 
 
168 IOCASTA. 
 
 That I retourne into my natiue soile 
 
 To sway with him alyke the kingly seate 
 
 And euenly beare the bridle both in hand, 
 
 Deare mother mine I sweare by all the Gods 
 
 To raise with speede the siege from these onr walles, 
 
 And send the souldiers home from whence they came 
 
 Which if he graunt me not, then must I do 
 
 (Though loth) as much as right and reason would, 
 
 To venge my cause that is both good and iust. 
 
 Yet this in heauen the Gods my records be, 
 
 And here in earth each mortall man may know, 
 
 That neuer yet my giltlesse heart did faile 
 
 Brotherly dutie to Eteocles, 
 
 And that causlesse he holdes me from mine own, 
 
 Thus haue I said mother, euen as much 
 
 As needefull is, wherein I me assure, 
 
 That in the iudgement both of good and badde, 
 
 My words may seeme of reason to proceede, 
 
 Constrained thus in my defence to speake. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 None may denie, pere of princely race, 
 But that thy words are honest, good and iust, 
 And such as well beseeme that tong of thine. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 „ If what to some seemes honest, good and iust, 
 „ Could seeme euen so in euery doubtfull mind, 
 „ No darke debate nor quarell could arise : 
 „ But looke, how many men so many minds, 
 „ And that, that one man iudgeth good and iust, 
 „ Some other deemes as deepely to be wrong. 
 
IOCASTA. 169 
 
 To say the truth (mother) this minde of mine 
 
 Doth fleete full farre from that farfetch of his, 
 
 Ne will I longer couer my conceit : 
 
 If I could rule or reigne in heauen aboue, 
 
 And eke commaund in depth of darksome hell, 
 
 No toile ne trauell should my sprites abashe, 
 
 To make the way vnto my restlesse will, 
 
 To climbe aloft, nor downe for to descend. 
 
 Then thinke you not, that I can yeld consent 
 
 To yeld a parte of my possession, 
 
 Wherein I hue and lead the monarchie. 
 
 „ A witlesse foole may euery man him gesse, 
 
 „ That leaues the more and takes him to the lesse. 
 
 With this, reproch might to my name redound, 
 
 If he, that hath with forren power spoilde 
 
 Our pleasaunt fields, might reaue from me perforce, 
 
 What so he list by force of armes demand. 
 
 No lesse reproofe the citizens ensewes, 
 
 If I, for dread of Greekish hosts, should graunt 
 
 That he might climbe to height of his desire. 
 
 In fine, he ought not thus of me to craue 
 
 Accord or peace, with bloudy sword in hand, 
 
 But with humilitie and prayer both. 
 
 For often is it seene, and proofe doth teach, 
 
 „ Swete words preuaile, where sword and fire faile. 
 
 Yet this, if here within these stately walles 
 
 He fist to hue, the sonne of Oedipus, 
 
 And not as king of Thebes, I stand content. 
 
 But let him thinke, since now I can commaunde, 
 
 This necke of mine shall neuer yeld .to yoke 
 
 Of seruitude : let bring his banners splaide, 
 
 Let speare and shielde, sharpe sworde, and cyndring flames 
 
170 IOCASTA. 
 
 Procure the parte that he so vainely claimes : 
 
 As long as life within this brest doth last, 
 
 I nill consent that he should reigne with me. 
 
 If lawe of right may any way be broke, 
 
 „ Desire of rule within a climbing brest 
 
 „ To breake a vow may beare the buckler best. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 „ Who once hath past the bounds of honestie 
 „ In ernest deedes, may passe it well in words. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 sonne, amongst so many miseries 
 
 This benefite hath croked age, I find, 
 
 That as the tracke of trustlesse time hath taught, 
 
 „ It seeth muche, and many things discernes, 
 
 „ Which recklesse youth can neuer rightly iudge. 
 
 Oh, cast aside that vaine ambition, 
 
 That corosiue, that cruell pestilence., 
 
 That most infects the minds of mortall men : 
 
 „ In princely palace and in stately townes 
 
 „ It crepeth ofte, and close with it conuayes, 
 
 „ To leaue behind it damage and decayes : 
 
 „ By it be loue and amitie destroy de, 
 
 „ It breaks the lawes and common concord beates, 
 
 „ Kingdomes and realmes it topsie turuie turnes, 
 
 And now, euen thee, hir gall so poisoned hath, 
 
 That the weake eies of thine affection 
 
 Are blinded quite, and see not to them selfe. 
 
 But worthy childe, driue from thy doubtfull brest 
 
 This monstrous mate, in steade whereof embrace 
 
 „ Equalitie, which stately states defends 
 
IOCASTA. 171 
 
 „ And binds the mind with true and trustie knots 
 
 „ Of friendly faith which neuer can be broke, 
 
 „ This, man of right should properly possesse, 
 
 And who that other doth the more embrace, 
 
 Shall purchase paine to be his iust reward 
 
 By wrathfull wo or else by cruell death. 
 
 „ This, first deuided all by equall bonds 
 
 „ What so the earth did yeld for our auaile : 
 
 „ This, did deuide the nights and dayes alike, 
 
 „ And that the vaile of darke and dreadfull night, 
 
 „ Which shrowds in misty clouds the pleasaunt light, 
 
 „ Ne yet the golden beames of Phebus rayes 
 
 „ Which cleares the dimmed ayre with gladsome gleames 
 
 „ Can yet heape hate in either of them both. 
 
 If then the dayes and nights to serue our tourne 
 
 Content them selues to yeld each other place, 
 
 Well oughtest thou with waightie doome to graunt 
 
 Thy brothers right to rule the reigne with thee 
 
 Which heauens ordeyned common to you both : 
 
 If so thou nill sonne cruell sonne, 
 
 „ In whose high brest may iustice builde hir boure 
 
 „ When princes harts wide open lye to wrong ? 
 
 Why likes thee so the tipe of tyrannie 
 
 With others losse to gather greedy gaine ? 
 
 „ Alas howe farre he wanders from the truth 
 
 „ That compts a pompe, all other to command, 
 
 „ Yet can not rule his owne vnbridled wil, 
 
 „ A vaine desire much riches to possesse 
 
 „ Whereby the brest is brusde and battered still, 
 
 „ With dread, with daunger, care and cold suspecte. 
 
 „ Who seekes to haue the thing we call inough, 
 
 „ Acquainte him first with contentation, 
 
172 IOCASTA. 
 
 „ For plenteousnesse is but a naked name. 
 
 „ And what suffiseth vse of mortall men, 
 
 „ Shall best apaye the meane and modest hearts. 
 
 „ These hoorded heapes of golde and worldly wealth 
 
 „ Are not the proper goods of any one, 
 
 „ But pawnes which Ioue powres out aboundantly 
 
 „ That we likewise might vse them equally, 
 
 „ And as he seemes to lende them for a time, 
 
 „ Euen so in time he takes them home agayne, 
 
 „ And would that we acknowledge euery houre, 
 
 „ That from his handes we did the same receiue : 
 
 „ Ther nothing is so firme and stayde to man, 
 
 „ But whyrles about with wheeles of restlesse time. 
 
 Now if I should this one thing thee demaunde, 
 
 Which of these two thou wouldest chuse to keepe, 
 
 The towne quiet or vnquiet tyrannie ? 
 
 And wouldest thou saye I chuse my kingly cheare ? 
 
 witlesse answere sent from wicked heart, 
 For if so fall (which mightie Gods defende) 
 Thine enimies hand should ouercome thy might, 
 
 And thou shouldst see them sacke the towne of Thebes, 
 
 The chastest virgins rauished for wrecke, 
 
 The worthy children in captiuitie, 
 
 „ Then shouldest thou feele that scepter, crowne, & wealth 
 
 „ Yeelde deeper care to see them tane away, 
 
 „ Than to possesse them yeldeth deepe content. 
 
 Now to conclude, my sonne, Ambition 
 
 Is it that most offendes thy thought, 
 
 Blame not thy brother, blame ambition 
 
 From whome if so thou not redeeme thy selfe, 
 
 1 feare to see thee buy repentance deare. 
 
IOCASTA. 173 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 Yea deare, too deare when it slial come too late. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 And no we to thee my Polinices deare, 
 I say that sillie was Adrastusreade, 
 And thou God knowes a simple sillie soule, 
 He to be ruled by thy heady will, 
 And thou, to warre against the Thebane walls, 
 These walls I say whose gates thy selfe should garde : 
 Tell me I praye thee, if the Citie yeelde, 
 Or thou it take by force in bloudie fight, 
 (Which neuer graunt the Gods I them beseeke) 
 What spoyles ? what Palmes ? what signe of victorie 
 Canst thou set vp to haue thy countrie woonne ? 
 What title worthy of immortall fame, 
 Shall biased be in honor of thy name ? 
 sonne, deare Sonne, beleeue thy trustie dame, 
 The name of glorie shall thy name refuse, 
 And flie full farre from all thy fonde attemptes. 
 But if so fall thou shouldst be ouercome, 
 Then with what face canst thou returne to Greece, 
 That here hast lefte so many Greekes on grounde ? 
 Eache one shall curse and blame thee to "thy face, 
 As him that onely caused their decaye, 
 And eke condemne Adrastus simple heade, 
 That such a pheere had chosen for his childe. 
 So may it fall, in one accursed houre, 
 That thou mayst loose thy wife and countrie both, 
 Both which thou mayst with little toyle attaine, 
 If thou canst leaue high minde and darke disdaine. 
 15 
 
174 IOCASTA. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 mightie Gods of goodnesse, neuer graunt 
 Unto these euills, but set desired peace 
 Betweene the hearts of these two friendly foes. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 The question that betwixt vs two is growen, 
 Beleeue me mother, can not ende with wordes : 
 You waste your breath, and I but loose my time, 
 And all your trauell lost and spent in vaine : 
 For this I sweare, that peace you neuer get 
 Betweene vs two, but with condition, 
 That whilst I liue, I wil be Lord of Thebes. 
 Then set aside these vaine fore wasted wordes, 
 And yeelde me leaue to go where neede doth presse 
 And now good sir, get you out of these walles, 
 Unlesse you meane to buy abode with bloude. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 And who is he that seekes to haue my bloude, 
 And shall not shed hjs owne as fast as myne ? 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 By thee he standes, and thou standst him before, 
 Loe here the sworde that shall perfourme his worde. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 And this shall eke mainteine my rightfull cause. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 sonnes, dear sonnes, away with glittring armes, 
 And first, before you touch each others flesh, 
 With doubled blowes come pierce this brest of mine. 
 
IOCASTA. 175 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Ah wretch, thou^rt both vile and cowardlike, 
 Thy high estate esteemes thy life too deare. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 If with a wretch or cowarde shouldest thou fighte, 
 Oh dastarde villaine, what first moued thee 
 With swarmes of Greekes to take this enterprise ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 For well I wist, that cancred heart of thine 
 Coulde safely kepe thy heade within these walles, 
 And flee the fielde when combate should be callde. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 This truce assured thee Polinices, 
 And makes thee bolde to gyue suche hosting wordes 
 So be thou sure, that had this truce not bene, 
 Then long ere this, these handes had bene embrude, 
 And eke this soyle besprinkled with thy bloude. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Not one small drop of my bloude shalt thou spill, 
 But buy it deare against thy cancred will. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 sonnes, my sonnes, for pittie yet refrayne. 
 
 CHOKVS. 
 
 Good Gods, who euer sawe so strange a sight ? 
 True loue and friendship both be put to flight. 
 
176 IOCASTA. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Yelde villein, yelde my right which thou with-holds. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Cut of thy hope to reigne in Thebane walles, 
 Nought hast thou here, nor nought shal euer haue, 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 aultars of my countrie soyle. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Whome thou art come to spoyle and to deface. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Gods, giue eare vnto my honest cause. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 With Forreine power his countrie to inuade. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 holy temples of the heauenly Gods. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 That for thy wicked deedes do hate thy name. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Out of my kingdome am I driuen by force. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Out of the which thou earnest me to driue. 
 
IOCASTA. 177 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Punish Gods this wicked tyrant here. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Praye to the Gods in Greece and not in Thebes. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 No sauage beast so cruell nor vniust. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Not cruell to my countrie like to thee. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Since from my right I am with wrong depriued. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Eke from thy life if long thou tary here. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 father heare what iniuries I take. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 As though thy diuelishe deedes were hid from him. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 And you mother. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Haue done thou not deseruest 
 With that false tong thy mother once to name. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 deare Citie. 
 
 15 
 
178 IOCASTA. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 When thou ariuest in Greece, 
 Chuse out thy dwelling in some niustie Moores. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 I must depart, and parting must I prayse 
 Oh deare mother the depth of your good will. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Sonne. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Away I say out of these walls. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 1 can not chuse but must thy will obey, 
 Yet graunt me once my father for to see. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 I heare no prayers of my enimie. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Where be my sweete sisters. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 And canst thou yet 
 With shamelesse tong once name thy noble race 
 That art become a common foe to Thebes ? 
 Be sure thou shalt them neuer see againe, 
 Nor other friend that in these walls remaine. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Rest you in peace, worthy mother myne. 
 
 
IOCASTA. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Howe can that be and thou my ioye in warre ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Hence forth n'am I your ioy ne yet your sonne. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Alas the Heauens me whelme with all mishap. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Lo here the cause that stirreth me by wrong. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Much more is that he profereth vnto me. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Well, speake, darest thou come armed to the fielde ? 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 So dare I come, wherefore dost thou demaunde ? 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 For needes or thou must ende this life of mine 
 Or quenche my thirst with pouring out thy bloud. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Ah wretch, my thirst is all as drie as thine. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Alas and welaway, what heare I sonnes ? 
 How can it be ? deare children can it be 
 That brethrens hearts suche rancour should enrage ? 
 
 179 
 
180 IOCASTA. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 And that right soone the proofe shall playnely shewe. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Oh say not so, yet say not so deare sonnes. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 royall race of Thebes now take thine ende. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 God shield. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 slow & sluggish heart of mine, 
 Why do I stay t'embrew these slouthfull hands ? 
 But for his greater griefe I will departe, 
 And at returne if here I finde my foe, 
 This hastie hande shall ende our hote debate. 
 
 \_Meocles here goeth out hy the gates Electrce. 
 
 POLINYCES. 
 
 Deare Citizens, and you eternall Gods, 
 
 Beare witnesse with me here before the worlde, 
 
 How this my fierce and cruell enimie, 
 
 Whom causelesse now my brother I do call, 
 
 With threats of death my lingring steps doth driue 
 
 Both from my right and from my countrey soyle, 
 
 Not as beseemes the sonne of Oedipus, 
 
 But as a slaue, an abiect, or a wretche : 
 
 And since you be both pitifull and iuste, 
 
 Vouchsafe Gods, that as I parte with griefe, 
 
 So may I yet returne with ioyfull spoyle 
 
IOCASTA. 181 
 
 Of this accursed tyraunt, and he slayne 
 I may recouer quietly mine owne. 
 
 \_Polinyces goeth out by the gates Homoloides. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 wretched wretche Iocasta, where is founde 
 The miserie that may compare to thine ? 
 would I had nor gasing eyes to see, 
 Nor listning eares to heare that now I dread : 
 But what remaynes, saue onely to entreate 
 That cruell dole would yet so curteous be 
 To reaue the breath out of this wofull brest, 
 Before I hearken to some wofull newes. 
 Rest you here dames, and pray vnto the Gods 
 For our redresse, and I in that meane while 
 Will shut my selfe from sight of lothsome light. 
 
 \_Iocasta goeth into Mr Pallaee. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 mightie God, the gouernour of Thebes, 
 Pitie with speede the payne Iocasta bydes, 
 And eke our needes, mightie Bacchus helpe, 
 Bende willing eare vnto our iust complaynt : 
 Leaue them not comfortlesse that trust in thee, 
 We haue nor golde nor siluer thee to giue, 
 Ne sacrifice to those thine aulters due, 
 In steede wherof we consecrate our hearts 
 To serue thy will, and hestes for to obey. 
 
 \Whyles the Chorus is thus praying to Bacchus^ 
 Eteocles returneth by the gates called Electron. 
 
182 IOCASTA. 
 
 SCENA. IJ. ACTUS. IJ. 
 ETEOCLES. CREON. 
 
 Since I haue ridde mine enmie out of sight, 
 The best shall be, for Creon now to sende, 
 My mothers brother, that with him I may- 
 Reason, consulte, conferre, and counsell bothe, 
 What shall be best to vse in our defence, 
 Before we venter forth into the fielde. 
 But of this trauayle, loe, he me acquites 
 That comes in haste towards these royall towres. 
 
 [Here Creon attended by foure gentlemen, cometh in 
 by the gates Homoloydes. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 mightie king, not causelesse nowe I come, 
 To finde, that long haue sought your maiestie, 
 So to discharge the duetie that I owe 
 
 To you, by comfort and by counsell bothe. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 No lesse desire this harte of mine did presse, 
 
 To sende for thee Creon, since that in vayne 
 
 My mother hath hir words and trauayle spent, 
 
 To reconcile Pollinices and me : 
 
 For he (so dull was his capacitie) 
 
 Did thinke, he could by dread of daunger, winne 
 
 My princely heart to yeelde to him this realme. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 1 vnderstande, the armie that he brings 
 
IOCASTA. 
 
 Agaynst these walles, is suche, that I me doubte 
 Our cities force may scarce the same resist. 
 Yet true it is, that right and reason bothe 
 Are on our side, which bring the victorie 
 Ofte times : for we our countrey to defende, 
 They to subdue the same in armes are come. 
 But what I would vnto your highnesse she we, 
 Is of more weight, and more behoues to knowe. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 And what is that ? oh quickly tell it me. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 A Greeke prisner is come vnto my hands. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 And what sayth he that doth so muche importe ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 That euen already be their rankes in raye, 
 
 And streight will giue assault to these our walles. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Then must I streight prepare our Citizens 
 In glittring armes to marche into the fielde. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Prince (and pardon me) thy youthfull yeres 
 
 Nor see them selfe, ne let thee once discerne, 
 
 What best behoueth in this doubtfull case. 
 
 „ For Prudence, she that is the mightie queene 
 
 „ Of all good workes, growes by experience, 
 
 „ Which is not founde with fewe dayes seeking for. 
 
 183 
 
184 IOCASTA. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 And were not this both sounde and wise aduise, 
 Boldly to looke our foemen in the face, 
 Before they spred our fields with hugie hoste, 
 And all the towne beset bysiege at once ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 We be but few, and they in number great. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Our men haue yet more courage farre than they. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 That know I not, nor am I sure to say. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Those eyes of thine in little space shall see 
 How many I my selfe can bring to grounde. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 That would I like, but harde it is to doe. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 I nill penne vp our men within the walles. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 In counsell yet the victorie consistes. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 And wilt thou then I vse some other reade ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 What else ? be still awhile, for haste makes wast. 
 
IOCASTA. 185 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 By night I will the Camuassado giue. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 So may you do and take the ouerthrowe. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 The vauntage is to him that do the assaulte. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Yet skirmishe giuen by night is perillous. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Let set vpon them as they sit at meate. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Sodayne assaults affray the minde no doubt, 
 But we had neede to ouercome. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 So shall we do. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 No sure, vnlesse some other counsel! helpe. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Amid their trenches shall we them inuade ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 As who should say, were none to make defence. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Should I then yeelde the Citie to my foes ? 
 16 
 
186 IOCASTA. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 No, but aduise you well if you be wise. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 That were thy parte, that knowest more than I. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Then shall I say that best doth seeme to me ? 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Yea Creon yea, thy counsell holde I deare. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Seuen men of courage haue they chosen out. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 A slender number for so great emprise. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 But they them chose for guides and capitaynes. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 To suche an hoste ? why they may not suffise. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Nay, to assault the seuen gates of the citie. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 What then behoueth so bestad to done ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 With equall number see you do them matche. 
 
IOCASTA. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 And then commit our men in charge to them ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Chusing the best and boldest blouds in Thebes. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 And how shall I the Citie then defende ? 
 
 CEEON. 
 
 Well with the rest, for one man sees not all. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 And shall I chuse the boldest or the wisest ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Nay both, for one without that other fayles. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 „ Force without wisedome then is litle worthe. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 That one must be fast to that other ioynde. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Creon I will thy counsell follow still, 
 For why, I hold it wise and trusty both, 
 And out of hand for now I will departe 
 That I in time the better may prouide 
 Before occasion slip out of my handes, 
 And that I may this Pollinices quell : 
 For well may I with bloudy knife him slea 
 
 187 
 
188 IOCASTA. 
 
 That commes in armes my countrie for to spoyle, 
 
 But if so please to fortune and to fate 
 
 That other ende than I doe thinke may fall, 
 
 To thee my frend it resteth to procure 
 
 The mariage twixt my sister Antygone 
 
 And thy deare sonne Haemone, to whom for dowre 
 
 At parting thus I promise to performe 
 
 As much as late I did beheste to thee : 
 
 My mothers bloude and brother deare thou arte, 
 
 Ne neede I craue of thee to garde hir well, 
 
 As for my father care I not, for if 
 
 So chaunce I dye, it may full well be sayd 
 
 His bitter curses brought me to my bane. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 The Lord defend, for that vnworthy were. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 Of Thebes towne the rule and scepter loe 
 I neede nor ought it other wise dispose 
 Than vnto thee, if I dye without heyre. 
 Yet longs my lingring mynde to vnderstande 
 The doubtfull ende of this vnhappie warre : 
 Wherfore I will thou send thy sonne to seke 
 Tyresias the deuine, and learne of him, 
 For at my call I knowe he will not come 
 That often haue his artes and him reproude. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 As you commaund, so ought I to performe. 
 
 ETEOCLES. 
 
 And last, I thee and citie both commaund, 
 
IOCASTA. 189 
 
 If fortune frendly fauour our attemptes, 
 And make our men triumphant victors al, 
 That none there be so hardie ne so bolde 
 For Pollinices bones to giue a graue : 
 And who presumes to breake my heste herein, 
 Shall dye the death in penaunce of his paine, 
 For thoughe I were by bloud to him conioynde 
 I part it now, and iustice goeth with me 
 To guide my steppes victoriously before. 
 Pray you to Ioue he deigne for to defende, 
 Our Citie safe both nowe and euermore. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Gramercie worthie prince, for all thy loue 
 
 And faithfull trust thou doest in me repose, 
 
 And if should hap, that I hope neuer shall, 
 
 I promise yet to doe what best behoues, 
 
 But chieflie this I sweare and make a vowe, 
 
 For Pollinices nowe our cruell foe, 
 
 To holde the hest that thou doest me commaunde. 
 
 \_Creon attendeth Eteocles to the gates Mectrce, he 
 retumeth and goeth out hy the gates called Hom- 
 oloydes. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 fierce and furious God, whose harmefull harte. 
 Reioyceth most to shed the giltlesse blood, 
 Whose headie wil doth all the world subuert, 
 And doth enuie the pleasant mery moode, 
 Of our estate that erst in quiet stoode, 
 16* 
 
190 IOCASTA. 
 
 Why doest thou thus our harmelesse towne annoy e, 
 Which mightie Bacchus gouerned in ioye ? 
 
 Father of warre and death, that dost remoue 
 With wrathfull wrecke from wofull mothers breast, 
 The trustie pledges of their tender loue, 
 So graunt the Gods, that for our finall rest, 
 Dame Venus pleasant lookes may please thee best, 
 Wherby when thou shalt all amazed stand, 
 The sword may fall out of thy trembling hand. 
 
 And thou maist proue some other way full well 
 The bloudie prowesse of thy mightie speare, 
 Wherwith thou raisest from the depth of hell, 
 The wrathfull sprites of all the furies there, 
 Who when they wake, doe wander euery where, 
 And neuer rest to range aboute the coastes, 
 T'enriche that pit with spoile of damned ghostes. 
 
 And when thou hast our fieldes forsaken thus, 
 Let cruell discorde beare thee companie, 
 Engirt with snakes and serpents venemous, 
 Euen she that can with red vermilion dye 
 The gladsome greene that florished pleasantly, 
 And make the greedie grounde a drinking cup, 
 To sup the bloud of murdered bodyes vp. 
 
 Yet thou returne ioye and pleasant peace, 
 From whence thou didst against our will departe, 
 Ne let thy worthie minde from trauell cease, 
 To chase disdaine out of the poysoned harte, 
 That raised warre to all our paynes and smarte, 
 Euen from the brest of Oedipus his sonne, 
 Whose swelling pride hath all this iarre begonne. 
 
 And thou great God, that doth all things decree, 
 And sitst on highe aboue the starrie skies, 
 
IOCASTA. 191 
 
 Thou chiefest cause of causes all that bee, 
 Regard not his offence but heare our cries, 
 And spedily redresse our miseries, 
 For what can we poore wofull wretches doe 
 But craue thy aide, and onely cleaue therto ? 
 
 Finis Actus secundi. 
 Done by Gr. Gascoygne. 
 
 THE ORDER OF THE THIRDE DUMBE SHEVVE. 
 
 Before the beginning of this. iij. Act did sound a very 
 dolefull noise of cornettes, during the which there opened 
 and appeared in the stage a great Grulfe, immediately 
 came in. vj. gentlemen in their duhlets and hose bring- 
 ing vpo their shulders baskets full of earth and threive 
 them into the Grulfe to fill it vp, but it would not so close 
 vp nor be filled. Then came the ladyes and dames that 
 stoode by, throwing in their cheynes $ Jewels, so to cause 
 it stoppe vp and close it self, but when it would not so 
 be filled, came in a Jcnighte with his sword drawen, armed 
 at all poyntes, who walking twise or thrise about it, $. 
 perusing it, seing that it would neither be filled with earth 
 nor with their Iewells and ornamentes, after solempne reu- 
 erence done to the gods, and curteous leaue taken of the 
 
192 IOCASTA. 
 
 Ladyes and standers by, sodeinly lepte into the Grulfe 
 the which did close vp immediatly, betokening vnto vs 
 the hue that euery worthy person oweth vnto his natiue 
 coutrie, by the history e of Ourtius, who for the lyJce cause 
 aduentured the like in Rome. This done, blinde Tyresias 
 the deuine prophete led in by hys daughter, and conducted 
 by Meneceus the sonne of Creon, entreth by the gates 
 Ulectrce, and sayth as fottoiveth. 
 
 ACTUS. IIJ. SCENA. I. 
 
 TYRESIAS. CREON. MANTO. MENECEVS. SACERDOS. 
 
 Thou trustie guide of my so trustlesse steppes 
 Deer daughter mine go we, lead thou y e way, 
 That since the day I first did leese this light 
 Thou only art the light of these mine eyes : 
 And for thou knowst I am both old & weake 
 And euer longing after louely rest, 
 Derect my steppes amyd the playnest pathes, 
 That so my febled feete may feele lest paine. 
 Meneceus thou gentle childe, tell me, 
 Is it farre hence, the place where we must goe, 
 Where as thy father for my comming stayes ? 
 For like vnto the slouthfull snayle I drawe, 
 Deare sonne, with paine these aged legges of mine, 
 
 [ Creon returneth be the gates Homoloyde 
 And though my minde be quicke, scarce can I moue. 
 
IOCASTA. 193 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Comfort thy selfe deuine, Creon thy frend 
 
 Loe standeth here, and came to meete with thee 
 
 To ease the payne that thou mightest else sustaine. 
 
 „ For vnto elde eche trauell yeldes annoy : 
 
 And thou his daughter and his faithfull guide, 
 
 Loe rest him here, and rest thou there withall 
 
 Thy virgins hands, that in sustayning him 
 
 Doest well acquite the due tie of a childe. 
 
 „ For crooked age and hory siluer heares 
 
 „ Still craueth helpe of lustie youthfull yeares. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Gramercie Lord, what is your noble will ? 
 
 i 
 
 CREON. 
 
 What I would haue of thee Tyresias 
 
 Is not a thing so soone for to be sayde, 
 
 But rest a whyle thy weake and weary limmes 
 
 And take some breath now after wearie walke, 
 
 And tell I pray thee, what this crowne doth meane, 
 
 That sits so kingly on thy skilfull heade ? 
 
 TYEESIAS. 
 
 Know this, that for I did with graue aduise, 
 
 Foretell the Citizens of Athens towne, 
 
 How they might best with losse of litle bloude, 
 
 Haue victories against their enimies, 
 
 Hath bene the cause why I doe weare this Crowne, 
 
 As right rewarde and not vnmeete for me. 
 
 CEEON. 
 
 So take I then this thy victorious crowne, 
 
194 IOCASTA. 
 
 For our auaile in token of good lucke, 
 That knowest, how the discord and debate 
 Which late is fallen betwene these brethren twaine, 
 Hath brought all Thebes in daunger and in dreade. 
 Eteocles our king, with threatning armes, 
 Is gone against his greekish enemies, 
 Commaunding me to learne of thee (who arte 
 A true deuine of things that be to come) 
 What were for vs the safest to be done, 
 From perill now our country to preserue. 
 
 TYRES IAS. 
 
 Long haue I bene within the towne of Thebes, 
 Since that I tyed this trustie toung of mine 
 From* telling truth, fearing Eteocles : 
 Yet, since thou doest in so great neede desire 
 I should reueale things hidden vnto thee, 
 For common cause of this our common weale, 
 I stand content to pleasure thee herein. 
 But first, that to this mightie God of yours 
 There might some worthy sacrifice be made, 
 Let kill the fairest goate that is in Thebes, 
 Within whose bowells when the Preest shall loke, 
 And tell to me what he hath there espyed, 
 I trust t'aduyse thee what is best to doen. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Lo here the temple, and ere long I looke 
 To see the holy preest that hither c5mes, 
 Bringing with him the pure and faire offrings, 
 Which thou requirest, for not long since, I sent 
 For him, as one that am not ignorant 
 
IOCASTA. 195 
 
 Of all your rytes and sacred ceremonyes : 
 
 He went to choose amid our herd of goates, 
 
 The fattest there : and loke where now he comnies. 
 
 \_Sacerdos aceompanyed with. xvj. bacchanales and 
 
 all his rytes and ceremonies entreth by the gates 
 
 Somoloydes. 
 
 SACERDOS. 
 
 famous Citizens, that holde full deare 
 
 Your quiet country : Loe where I doe come 
 
 Most ioyfully, with wonted sacrifice, 
 
 So to beseeche the supreme Citizens, 
 
 To stay our state that staggringly do stand, 
 
 And plant vs peace where warre and discord growes : 
 
 Wherfore, with harte deuoute and humble cheere, 
 
 Whiles I breake vp the bowels of this beast, 
 
 That oft thy vyneyarde Bacchus hath destroyed, 
 
 Let euery wight craue pardon for his faultes, 
 
 With bending knee about his aultars here. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Take here the salte, and sprinckle therwithall 
 
 About the necke, that done, cast all the rest 
 
 Into the sacred fire, and then annoynte 
 
 The knife prepared for the sacrifice. 
 
 mightie Ioue, preserue the precious gifte 
 
 That thou me gaue, when first thine angrie Queene, 
 
 For deepe disdayne did both mine eyes do out, 
 
 Graunt me, I may foretell the truth in this, 
 
 For, but by thee, I know that I ne may, 
 
 Ne will ne can, one trustie sentence say. 
 
196 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 
 SACERDOS 
 
 This due is done. 
 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 With knife then stick y e kid. 
 
 SACERDOS. 
 
 Thou daughter of deuine Tyresias, 
 With those vnspotted virgins hands of thine 
 Receiue the bloude within this vessell here, 
 And then deuoutly it to Bacchus yelde. 
 
 MANTO. 
 
 holy God of Thebes, that doest both praise 
 Swete peace, and doest in hart also disdayne 
 The noysome noyse, the furies and the fight 
 Of bloudie Mars and of Bellona both : 
 thou the giuer both of ioy and health, 
 Receyue in gree and with well willing hand 
 These holy whole brunt offrings vnto thee, 
 And as this towne doth wholy thee adore, 
 So by thy helpe do graunt that it may stand 
 Safe from the enmyes outrage euermore. 
 
 SACERDOS. 
 
 Now hi thy sacred name I bowell here 
 This sacrifice. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 And what entrails hath it ? 
 
 SACERDOS. 
 
 Faire and welformed all in euery poynt, 
 
IOCASTA. 197 
 
 The liuer cleane, the hart is not infect, 
 Saue loe, I finde but onely one hart string 
 By which I finde somwhat I wote nere what, 
 That seemes corrupt, and were not onely that, 
 In all the rest, they are both sounde and hole. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Now cast at once into the holy flame 
 The swete incense, and then aduertise mee 
 What hew it beares, and euery other ryte 
 That ought may helpe the truth for to coniecte. 
 
 SACERDOS. 
 
 I see the flames doe sundrie colours cast, 
 
 Now bloudy sanguine, straightway purple, blew, 
 
 Some partes seeme blacke, some gray, and some be greene. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Stay there, suflyseth this for to haue seene, 
 Know Creon that these outward seemely signes 
 By that the Gods haue let me vnderstand 
 Who vnderstandeth al and seeth secrete things, 
 Betokeneth that the Citie great of Thebes 
 Shall Victor be against the Greekish host, 
 If so consent be giuen, but more than this 
 I lyst not say : 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Alas for curtesie 
 Say on Tyresias, neuer haue respect 
 To any liuing man, but tell the truth. 
 17 
 
198 IOCASTA. 
 
 [Sacerdos returneth with the Bacehan\ale%\ by the 
 
 gates Homoloides. 
 
 SACERDOS. 
 
 In this meane while I will returne with speede 
 From whence I came, for lawfull is it not, 
 That suche as I should heare your secretnesse. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Contrary then to that which I haue sayde, 
 
 The incest foule, and childbirth monstruous 
 
 Of Iocasta, so stirres the wrath of Ioue, 
 
 This citie shall with bloudy channels swhnme, 
 
 And angry Mars shall ouercome it all 
 
 With famine, flame, rape, murther, dole and death : 
 
 These lustie towres shall haue a headlong fall, 
 
 These houses burnde, and all the rest be rasde, 
 
 And soone be sayde, here whilome Thebes stoode. 
 
 One onely way I finde for to escape, 
 
 Which bothe would thee displease to heare it tolde, 
 
 And me to tell percase were perillous. 
 
 Thee therfore with my trauell I commende 
 
 To Ioue, and with the rest I will endure, 
 
 What so shall chaunce for our aduersitie. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Yet stay a whyle. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Creon make me not stay 
 By force. 
 
IOCASTA. 199 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Why fleest thou ? 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Syr 'tis not fro thee 
 I flee, but from this fortune foule and fell. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Yet tell me what behoues the citie doe ? 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Thou Creon seemest now desirous still 
 
 It to preserue : but if as well as I 
 
 Thou knewest that which is to thee vnknowne, 
 
 Then wouldste thou not so soone consent therto. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 And would not I with eagre minde desire 
 The thing that may for Thebes ought auayle ? 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 And dost thou then so instantly request 
 
 To know which way thou mayest the same preserue ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 For nothing else I sent my sonne of late 
 To seeke for thee. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Then will I satisfie 
 Thy greedie minde in this : but first tell me, 
 
 Menetius where is he ? 
 
200 IOCASTA. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Not farre from me. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 I pray thee sende him out some other where. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Why wouldest thou that he should not be here ? 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 I would not haue him heare what I should say. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 He is my sonne, ne will he it reueale. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 And shall I then while he is present speake ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Yea, be thou sure that he no lesse than I, 
 Doth wishe full well vnto this common weale. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Then Creon shalt thou knowe : the meane to saue 
 
 This Citie, is, that thou shalt slea thy sonne, 
 
 And of his bodie make a sacrifice 
 
 For his Countrey : lo heere is all you seeke 
 
 So muche to knowe, and since you haue me forst 
 
 To tell the thing that I would not haue tolde, 
 
 If I haue you offended with my words, 
 
 Blame then your selfe, and eke your frowarcle fate. 
 
IOCASTA. 201 
 
 CREON. 
 
 [Oh] cruell words, oh, oh, what hast thou sayde, 
 Thou cruell southsayer ? 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Euen that, that heauen 
 Hath ordeined once, and needes it must ensue. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Howe many euils hast thou knit vp in one ? 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Though euill for thee, yet for thy countrey good. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 And let my countrey perishe, what care I ? 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 „ Aboue all things we ought to holde it deare. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Cruell were he, that would not loue his childe. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 „ For com5 weale, were well, that one man waile. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 To loose mine owne, I liste none other saue. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 „ Best Citizens care least for priuate gayne. 
 
 17* 
 
202 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Departe, for nowe, with all thy prophecies. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 „ Lo, thus the truthe dothe alwayes hatred get. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Yet pray I thee by these thy siluer heares, 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 „ The harme that c5mes from lieauen can not be scapt. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 xlnd by thy holy spirite of prophecie, 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 „ What heauen hath done, that can not I vndoe. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 That to no moe this secrete thou reueale. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 And wouldst thou haue me learne to make a lye ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 I pray thee holde thy peace. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 That will I not : 
 But in thy woe to yeelde thee some reliefe, 
 I tell thee once, thou shalt be Lorde of Thebes, 
 Which happe of thine this string did well declare, 
 
IOCASTA. 
 
 203 
 
 Which from the heart doth out alonely groove. 
 So did the peece corrupted playnly shelve, 
 An argument most euident to proue 
 Thy sonne his death. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Well, yet he thou content 
 To keepe full close this secrete hidden griefe. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 I neither ought, ne will keepe it so close. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Shall I he then the murtherer of mine owne ? 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Ne blame not me, hut blame the starres for this. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Can heauens condemne but him alone to dye ? 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 We ought beleeue the cause is good and iust. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 „ Uniust is he condemnes the innocent. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 „ A foole is he accuseth heauens of wrongs. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 „ There can no ill thing come from heaues aboue. 
 
204 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Then this that heauen commaunds can not be ill. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 I not beleeue that thou hast talkt with God. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Bicause I tell thee that doth thee displease. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Out of my sight accursed lying wretche. 
 
 TYRESIAS. 
 
 Go daughter go, oh what a foole is he 
 
 That puts in vre to publishe prophecies ? 
 
 „ For if he do foretell a fro war de fate, 
 
 „ Though it be true, yet shall he purchase hate : 
 
 „ And if he silence keepe, or hide the truth, 
 
 „ The heauy wrath of mightie Gods ensuth. 
 
 Apollo he might well tell things to come, 
 
 That had no dread the angry to offende : 
 
 But hye we daughter hence some other way. 
 
 \_Tyresias with Manto his daughter, returneth by the 
 gates called Electrw. 
 
 SCENA. IJ. 
 
 CREON. MENECEVS. 
 
 Oh my deare childe, well hast thou heard with ears 
 These weery newes, or rather wicked tales 
 That this deuine of thee deuined hath : 
 
IOCASTA. 205 
 
 Yet will thy father neuer be thy foe, 
 
 With cruell doome thy death for to consent. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 You rather ought, father, to consent 
 
 Unto my death, since that my death may bring 
 
 Unto this towne bothe peace and victorie. 
 
 „ Ne can I purchase more prayseworthy deathe 
 
 „ Than for my countreys wealth to lose my breath. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 I can not prayse this witlesse will of thine. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 „ You know deare father, that this life of ours 
 
 „ Is brittle, short, and nothing else in deede 
 
 „ But tedious toyle and pangs of endlesse payne : 
 
 „ And death, whose darte to some men seemes so fell, 
 
 „ Brings quiet ende to this vnquiet life. 
 
 ,, Unto which ende who soonest doth arriue, 
 
 „ Findes soonest rest of all his restlesse griefe. 
 
 „ And were it so, that here on earth we felte 
 
 „ No pricke of payne, nor that our flattring dayes 
 
 ,, "Were neuer dasht by frowarde fortunes frowne, 
 
 ,, Yet beeing borne (as all men are) to dye, 
 
 „ Were not this worthy glory and renowne, 
 
 „ To yeelde the countrey soyle where I was borne, 
 
 ,, For so long time, so shorte a time as mine ? 
 
 I can not thinke that this can be denied. 
 
 Then if to shunne this haughtie highe behest, 
 
 Mine onely cause, father, doth you moue, 
 
 Be sure, you seeke to take from me your sonne, 
 
206 IOCASTA. 
 
 The greatest honor that I can attayne : 
 
 But if your owne commoditie you moue, 
 
 So much the lesse you ought the same allowe : 
 
 For looke, how much the more you haue in Thebes, 
 
 So much the more you ought to loue the same : 
 
 Here haue you Hemone, he that in my steade 
 
 (0 my deare father) may with you remaine, 
 
 So that, although you be depriued of me, 
 
 Yet shall you not be quite depriued of heires. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 I can not chuse, deare Sonne, but disalowe 
 This thy too hastie, hote desire of death : 
 For if thy life thou settest all so lighte, 
 Yet oughtest thou thy father me respect, 
 Who as I drawe the more to lumpishe age, 
 So much more neede haue I to craue thine ayde : 
 "Ne will I yet, with stubborne tong denye, 
 „ That for his common weale to spende his life, 
 ,, Doth win the subiect high renoumed name. 
 ,, But howe ? in armoure to defende the state, 
 „ Not like a beast to bleede in sacrifice : 
 And there withall, if any should consent 
 To such a death, then should the same be I, 
 That haue prolonged life euen long enough, 
 "Ne many dayes haue I no we to drawe on. 
 And more auaile might to the countrie come, 
 Deare sonne, to holde that lustie life of thine 
 That arte both yong and eke of courage stout, 
 Than may by me that feeble am and olde. 
 Then liue deare sonne in high prosperitie, 
 And giue me leaue that worthy am to dye. 
 
IOCASTA. 207 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 Yet worthy were not that vnworthj chaunge. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 If such a death bring glorie, giue it me. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 Not you, but me, the heauens cal to die. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 We be but one in flesh and body both. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 I father ought, so ought not you, to die. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 If thou sonne die, thinke not that I can Hue : 
 Then let me die, and so shall he first die, 
 That ought to die, and yet but one shal die. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 Although I, father, ought t'obey your hestes, 
 Yet euil were not to this yelde your wil. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Thy wit is wylie for to worke this wo. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 Oh, tender pittie moueth me thereto. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 ,, A beast is he, that kils himselfe with knife, 
 „ Of pittie to preserue an others life. 
 
208 10CASTA. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 „ Yet wise is he, that doth obey the Gods. 
 
 The Gods will not the death of any wight. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 „ Whose life they take, they giue him life also. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 But thou dost striue to take thy life thy selfe. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 Nay them to obey, that will I shall not liue. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 What fault, sonne, condemneth thee to death ? 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 ,, Who liueth (father) here without a fault ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 I see no gylte in thee that death deserues. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 But God it seeth that euery secrete seeth. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Howe shoulde we knowe what is the will of God ? 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 We knowe it then, when he reueales the same. 
 
IOCASTA. 209 
 
 CREON. 
 
 As though he woulde come doune to tell it vs. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 By diuers meanes his secrets he discloseth. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Oh, fonde is he, who thinkes to vnderstand 
 The mysteries of Ioue his secrete mynde : 
 And for to ende this controuersie here, 
 Loe thus I say, I will we both hue yet : 
 Prepare thee then, my hestes to holde and keepe, 
 And pull a downe that stubborne heart of thyne. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 You may of me, as of your selfe dispose, 
 And since my life doth seeme so deare to you, 
 I will preserue the same to your auaile, 
 That I may spende it alwayes to your will. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Then, thee behoues out of this towne to flie : 
 Before the bolde and blinde Tyresias 
 Doe publish this that is as yet vnknowne. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 And where, or in what place shall I become ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Where thou mayste be hence furthest out of sight. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 You may commaunde, and I ought to obey. 
 18 
 
High Ioue. 
 
 210 IOCASTA. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Go to the lande of Thesbrotia. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 Where Dodona doth sit in sacred chaire ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Euen there my childe. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 And who shal guide my wandring steps ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 Who shall giue sustenance for my reliefe ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 There will I sende thee heapes of glistring golde. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 But when shall I eftesoones my father see ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Ere long I hope : but no we, for nowe depart, 
 
 For euery lingring let or little stay, 
 
 May purchase payne and torment both to me. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 First woulde I take my conge of the Queene, 
 That since the day my mother lost hir life, 
 
IOCASTA. 211 
 
 Hath nourish t me as if I were hir owne. 
 
 [ Creon goeth out by the gates Homoloydes. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Oh, tarry not my deare sonne, tarry not. 
 
 MENECEVS. 
 
 Beholde father, I goe. You dames of Thebes, 
 Praye to almightie Ioue for my retourne, 
 You see howe mine vnhappie starres me driue 
 To go my countrie fro, and if so chaunce, 
 I ende in woe my pryme and lustie yeares 
 Before the course of Nature do them call, 
 Honor my death yet with your drery plaints, 
 And I shal eke, where so this cartas come, 
 Praye to the Gods that they preserue this towne. 
 
 [Meneeeus departeth by the gates Electros, 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 When she that rules the rolling wheele of chaunce 
 Doth turne aside hir angrie frowning face, 
 On him, whom erst she deigned to aduaunce, 
 She neuer leaues to galde him with disgrace, 
 To tosse and turne his state in euery place, 
 Till at the last she hurle him from on high 
 And yeld him subiect vnto miserie : 
 
 And as the braunche that from the roote is reft, 
 He neuer winnes like leafe to that he lefte : 
 
 Yea though he do, yet can no tast of ioy 
 Compare with pangs that past in his annoy. 
 
212 IOCASTA. 
 
 Well did the heauens ordeine for our behoofe 
 Necessitie, and fates by them allowde, 
 That when we see our high mishappes aloofe 
 (As though our eyes were mufled with a cloude) 
 Our froward will doth shrinke it selfe and shrowde 
 From our auaile, wherewith we runne so farre 
 As none amends can make that we do marre : 
 
 Then drawes euill happe & striues to shew his stregth, 
 And such as yeld vnto his might, at length 
 
 He leades them by necessitie the way 
 That destinie preparde for our decay. 
 
 The Mariner amidde the swelling seas 
 Who seeth his barke with many a billowe beaten, 
 Now here, now there, as wind and waues best please, 
 When thundring Ioue with tempest list to threaten, 
 And dreades in depest gulfe for to be eaten, 
 Yet learnes a meane by mere necessitie 
 To saue him selfe in such extremitie : 
 
 For when he seeth no man hath witte nor powre 
 To flie from fate when fortune list to lowre, 
 
 His only hope on mightie Ioue doth caste, 
 Whereby he winnes the wished hauen at last. 
 
 How fond is that man in his fantasie, 
 Who thinks that Ioue the maker of vs al, 
 And he that tempers all in heauen on high, 
 The sunne, the mone, the starres celestiall, 
 So that no leafe without his leaue can fall, 
 Hath not in him omnipotence also 
 To guide and gouerne all things here below ? 
 
IOCASTA. 213 
 
 blinded eies, wretched mortall wights, 
 subiect slaues to euery euill that lights, 
 
 To scape such woe, such paine, such shame and scorne, 
 Happie were he that neuer had bin borne. 
 
 Well might duke Creon driuen by destinie, 
 If true it be that olde Tyresias saith, 
 Redeme our citie from this miserie, 
 By his consent vnto Meneceus death, 
 Who of him selfe wold faine haue lost his breth, 
 „ But euery man is loth for to fulfill 
 „ The heauenly hest that pleaseth not his will : 
 
 „ That publique weale must needes to ruine go 
 ,, Where priuate profite is preferred so. 
 
 Yet mightie God, thy only aide we craue, 
 This towne from siege, and vs from sorrowe saue. 
 
 Finis Actus tertij. 
 
 THE ORDER OF THE FOURTH DUMBE SHEVVE. 
 
 Before the beginning of this fourth Acte, the Trumpets 
 sounded, the drummes and fifes, and a greate jpeale of 
 ordinaunce was shot of, in the ivhich ther entred vpon 
 the stage, vj. knights armed at al points, whereof three 
 
 18* 
 
214 IOCASTA. 
 
 came in by the Grates Electrce, and the other foure by 
 the Gates Homoloides, either parte beeing accompanied 
 with vij. other armed men : and after they had marched 
 twice or thrice about the Stage, the one partie menacing 
 the other by their furious lookes and gestures, the. vj. 
 knights caused their other attendants to stand by, and 
 drawing their Swords, fell to cruell and couragious corn- 
 bate, continuing therein, till two on the one side were 
 slayne : the third perceiuing, that he only remayned to 
 tuithstand the force of. iij. enemies, did politiquely runne 
 aside, wherewith immediatly one of the. iij. followed after 
 him, and when he hadde draiven his enimie thus from 
 his companie, hee turned againe and slewe him : Then 
 the seconde also ranne after him, whome he slewe in like 
 maner, and consequently the thirde, and then triumphantly 
 marched aboute the Stage with hys sword in his hand. 
 Hereby was noted the incomparable force of concord be- 
 tiveene brethren, who as long as they holde togither may 
 not easily by any meanes be ouercome, and being once 
 disseuered by any meanes, are easily ouerthrowen. The 
 history of the brethren Horatij $■ Curiatij, who agreed 
 to like combate and came to like ende. After that the 
 dead carkasses were caried from the Stage by the armed 
 men on both parties, and that the victor was triumphantly 
 accompanied out, also came in a messanger armed from 
 the campe, seeking the Queene, and to Mr spake as fol- 
 loweth. 
 
 
IOCASTA. 215 
 
 ACTUS. IHJ. SCENA. J. 
 
 NVN€IVS. IOCASTA. 
 
 \_Nuncius eommeth in by the gates Homoloides. 
 
 OSAGE and sober dames, shamefast maides, 
 faithfull seruants of our aged Queene, 
 Come leade hir forth, sith vnto hir I bring 
 Such secrete newes as are of great importe. 
 Come forthe, Queene, surceasse thy wofull plainte, 
 And to my words vouchsafe a willing eare. 
 
 [The Queene with hir traine eommeth out of hir 
 Pallace. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 My seruant deare, doest thou yet bring me newes 
 
 Of more mishappe ? ah werie wretch, alas, 
 
 How doth Eteocles ? whome heretofore 
 
 In his encreasing yeares, I wonted ay 
 
 From daungerous happe with fauoure to defend, 
 
 Doth he yet liue ? or hath vntimely death 
 
 In cruell fight berefte his flowring life ? 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 He hues (0 Queene) hereof haue ye no doubte, 
 From such suspecte my selfe will quite you soone. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 The yetrous Greekes haue haply tane the toune ? 
 
216 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 The Gods forbid. 
 
 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Our souldiers ,then, perchance, 
 Dispersed bene and yelden to the sword. 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 Not so, they were at first in daunger sure, 
 But in the end obteined victorie. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Alas, what then becomes of Polinice ? 
 Oh canst thou tell ? is he dead or aliue ? 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 You haue (0 Queene) yet both your sonnes aliue. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Oh, how my harte is eased of this paine. 
 Well, then proceede, and briefly let me heare, 
 How ye repulst your proud presuming foes, 
 That thereby yet at least I may assuage 
 The swelling sorrowes in my dolefull brest, 
 In that the towne is hitherto preserude : 
 And for the rest, I trust that mightie Ioue 
 Will yelde vs ayde. 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 No soner had your worthy valiant sonne, 
 Seuerde the Dukes into seauen seuerall partes, 
 And set them to defence of seuerall gates, 
 
IOCASTA. 217 
 
 And brought in braue arraye his horssemen out, 
 
 First to encounter with their mightie foen, 
 
 And likewise pitcht, the footemen face to face 
 
 Against the footemen of their enimies, 
 
 But fiercely straight, the armies did approche, 
 
 Swarming so thicke, as couerde cleane the fielde, 
 
 When dreadfull blast of braying trumpets sounde, 
 
 Of dolefull drummes, and thundring cannon shot, 
 
 Gaue hideous signe of horrour of the fight, 
 
 Then gan the Greekes to giue their sharpe assaulte, 
 
 Then from the walls our stout couragious men, 
 
 With rolling stones, with paisse of hugie beames, 
 
 With flying dartes, with flakes of burning fire, 
 
 And deadly blowes, did beate them backe againe : 
 
 Thus striuing long, with stout and bloudie fighte, 
 
 Whereby full many thousande slaughtered were, 
 
 The hardie Greekes came vnderneath the walls, 
 
 Of whome, first Capaney (a lustie Knight) 
 
 Did scale the walls, and on the top thereof 
 
 Did vaunt himselfe, when many hundred moe, 
 
 With fierce assaultes did followe him as fast. 
 
 Then loe, the Captaines seauen bestirrde themselues, 
 
 (Whose names ye haue alreadie vnderstoode) 
 
 Some here, some there, nought dreading losse of life, 
 
 With newe reliefe to feede the fainting breach : 
 
 And Polinice, he bended all the force 
 
 Of his whole charge, against the greatest gate, 
 
 When sodenly a flashe of lightning flame 
 
 From angrie skies strake captaine Capaney, 
 
 That there downe dead he fell, at sight whereof 
 
 The gazers one were fraught with soden feare. 
 
 The rest, that stroue to mount the walles so fast, 
 
218 IOCASTA. 
 
 From ladders toppe did headlong tumble downe. 
 
 Herewith our men encouragde by good happe, 
 
 Toke hardy harts, and so repulst the Grekes. 
 
 There was Eteocles and I with him, 
 
 Who setting first those souldiers to their charge, 
 
 Ranne streight to thother gates, vnto the weake 
 
 He manly comforte gaue, vnto the bold 
 
 His lusty words encr eased courage still, 
 
 In so much as th'amased Grecian king 
 
 When he did heare of Capaney his death, 
 
 Fearing thereby the Gods became his foen 
 
 Out from the trench withdrewe his wearie host. 
 
 But rashe Eteocles (presuming tootoo much 
 
 Uppon their flight) did issue out of Thebes, 
 
 And forwarde straighte with strength of chiualrie, 
 
 His flying foes couragiously pursude. 
 
 To long it were to make recompt of all 
 
 That wounded bene, or slaine, or captiue now, 
 
 The cloudy ayre was filled round aboute 
 
 With houling cries and wofull wayling plaints : 
 
 So great a slaughter (0 renowmed Queene) 
 
 Before this day I thinke was neuer seene. 
 
 Thus haue we now cut of the fruitlesse hope 
 
 The Grecians had, to sacke this noble towne. 
 
 What ioyfull end will happen herevnto 
 
 Yet know I not : the gods tourne all to good. 
 
 „ To conquere, lo, is doubtlesse worthy praise, 
 
 ,, But wisely for to vse the conquest gotte, 
 
 „ Hath euer wonne immortall sound of fame. 
 
 Well, yet there while in this we may reioice, 
 
 Sith heauen and heauenly powers are pleased therewith. 
 
IOCASTA. 219 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 This good successe was luckie sure, and such, 
 
 As for my parte I little loked for : 
 
 To saue the towne and eke to haue my sonnes 
 
 (As you report) preserued yet aliue. 
 
 But yet proceede, and further let me know 
 
 The finall ende that they agreed vpon. 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 No more (0 queene) let this for now suffise, 
 Sith hitherto your state is safe inough. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 These words of thine, do whelme my iealous mind 
 With great suspecte of other mischiefes hidde. 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 What would ye more, alredy being sure 
 That both your sonnes in safetie do remaine ? 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 I long to know the rest, or good or bad. 
 
 nuncius. 
 
 let me now retourne to Eteocles, 
 
 That of my seruice greatly stands in neede. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Right well I see, thou doest conceale the woorst. 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 Oh force me not, the good now beeing past, 
 To tell the yll. 
 
220 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Tell it I say, on paine of our displeasure. 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 Since thus ye seeke to heare a dolefull tale, 
 I will no longer stay : witte ye therefore, 
 Your desperate sonnes togither be agreed 
 For to attempt a wicked enterprise, 
 To priuate fight they haue betroutht themselues, 
 Of which conflicte, the end must needes be this, 
 That one do liue, that other die the death. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Alas, alas, this did I euer feare. 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 Now, sith in summe I haue reuealed that, 
 
 Which you haue heard with great remorse of mind, 
 
 I will proceede, at large to tell the whole. 
 
 When your victorious sonne, with valiaunt force 
 
 Had chast his foes into their ioyning tents, 
 
 Euen there he staide, and straight at sound of trumpe 
 
 With stretched voice the herault thus proclaimde : 
 
 You princely Greekes, that hither be arriued 
 
 To spoile the fruite of these our fertile fields, 
 
 And vs to driue from this our Natiue soile, 
 
 suffer not so many giltlesse soules 
 
 By this debate descend in Stigian lake, 
 
 For priuate cause of wicked Pollinice, 
 
 But rather let the brethren, hand to hand, 
 
 By mutuall blowes appease their furious rage, 
 
 And so to cease from sheding further bloud : 
 
IOCASTA. 221 
 
 And, to the end you all might vnderstand 
 The profite that to euery side may fall, 
 Thus much my Lord thought good to profer you, 
 This is his will, if he be ouercome, 
 Then Polinice to rule this kingly realme : 
 If so it happe (as reason would it should) 
 Our rightfull prince to conquere Polinice, 
 That then no one of you make more adoo, 
 But straight to Argos He hast home againe. 
 This, thus pronounst vnto the noble Greeks, 
 No soner did the sound of trumpet cease, 
 But Polinice stept forth before the host, 
 And to these words this answere did he make : 
 
 thou, (not brother) but my mortall foe, 
 Thy profer here hath pleased me so well, 
 As presently, without more long delay, 
 
 1 yeld my selfe prepared to the field. 
 Our noble King no soner heard this vaunt, 
 But forth as fast he prest his princely steppes, 
 With eger mind, as hoouering falcon wonts 
 
 To make hir stoope, when pray appeares in sight : 
 At all assayes they both were brauely armed, 
 To eithers side his sword fast being girt, 
 In eithers hand was put a sturdy launce : 
 About Eteocles our souldiers cloong, 
 To comforte him, and put him then in mind, 
 He fought for safetie of his country soile, 
 And that in him consisted all their hope. 
 To Polinice the king Adrastus swore, 
 If he escaped victor from the fielde, 
 At his retourn he would in Greece erecte 
 A golden Image vnto mightie Ioue 
 19 
 
222 IOCASTA. 
 
 In signe of his triumphing victorie : 
 But all this while seeke you (0 noble queene) 
 To hinder this jour furious sonnes attempte. 
 Intreat the Gods it may not take effecte, 
 Els must you needes ere long depriued be 
 Of both your sonnes, or of the one at least. 
 
 \_Nuntius returneth to the camp by the gates Homo- 
 
 IOCASTA. ANTIGONE. 
 
 Antigone my swete daughter, come forth 
 
 Out of this house, that nought but woe retaines, 
 
 Come forth I say, not for to sing or daunce, 
 
 But to preuent (if in our powers it lie) 
 
 That thy malicious brethren (swolne with ire) 
 
 And I alas, their miserable mother, 
 
 Be not destroide by stroke of dreadfull death. 
 
 [Antigone commeth out of Mr mothers Pallace. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Ah swete mother, ah my beloued mother, 
 
 Alas alas what cause doth moue ye now 
 
 From trembling voice to send such carefull cries ? 
 
 What painefull pang ? what griefe doth gripe you nowe ? 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 deare daughter, thy most vnhappie brethren 
 That sometimes lodgde within these wretched loynes 
 Shall die this daye, if Ioue preuent it not. 
 
IOCASTA. 
 
 223 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Alas what say you ? alas what do you say ? 
 Can I (alas) endure to see him dead, 
 Whom I thus long haue sought to see aliue ? 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 They both haue vowde (I quake alas to tell) 
 With trenchant blade to spill ech others blood. 
 
 [antigone.] 
 
 cruell Eteocles, ah ruthlesse wretch, 
 Of this outrage thou only art the cause, 
 Not Pollinice, whom thou with hatefull spight 
 Hast reaued first of crowne and countrie soyle, 
 And now doest seeke to reaue him of his life. 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Daughter no more delay, lets go, lets go. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Ah my sweete mother, whither shall I go ? 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 With me, deere daughter, to the greekish host. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Alas how can I go ? vnles I go 
 
 In daunger of my life, or of good name ? 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Time serues not now (my welbeloued childe) 
 To way the losse of life or honest name, 
 
224 IOCASTA. 
 
 But rather to preuent (if so we may) 
 
 That wicked deede, which only but to thinke, 
 
 Doth hale my hart out of my heauie brest. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Come then, lets go, good mother let vs go, 
 But what shall we be able for to doe, 
 You a weake old woman forworne with yeares, 
 And I God knowes a silly simple mayde ? 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Our wofull wordes, our prayers & our plaintes, 
 Pourde out with streames of ouerflowing teares, 
 (Where Nature rules) may happen to preuayle, 
 When reason, power, and force of armes do fayle. 
 But if the glowing heate of boyling wrath 
 So furious be, as it may not relent, 
 Then I atwixt them both will throw my selfe, 
 And this my brest shall beare the deadly blowes 
 That otherwise should light vpon my sonnes : 
 So shall they shead my bloud and not their owne. 
 Well now deere daughter, let vs hasten hence, 
 For if in time we stay this raging strife, 
 Then haply may my life prolonged be : 
 If ere we come the bloudy deede be done, 
 Then must my ghost forsake this feeble corps : 
 And thou, deare childe, with dolour shalt bewaile, 
 Thy brothers death and mothers all at once. 
 
 \_Io casta with Antigone, and all Mr traine (except e 
 
 the Chorus^) goeth totvards the campe, by the 
 
 gates Homoloydes. 
 
IOCASTA. 225 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 Who so hath felt, what feruent loue 
 A mother beares vnto hir tender sonnes, 
 She and none other sure, can comprehende 
 The dolefull griefe, the pangs and secret paine, 
 That presently doth pierce the princely brest 
 Of our afflicted Queene : alas, I thinke 
 No martyrdome might well compare with hirs. 
 So ofte as I recorde hir restlesse state, 
 Alas me thinkes I feele a shiuering feare 
 Hit to and fro along my flushing vaines. 
 Alas for ruth, that thus two brethren shoulde, 
 Enforce themselues to shed each others bloude. 
 Where is the lawes of nature nowe become ? 
 Can fleshe of fleshe, alas, can bloude of bloude, 
 So far forget it selfe, as slaye it selfe ? 
 lowring starres, dimme and angrie skies, 
 
 giltie fate, such mischiefe set aside, 
 But if supernall powers decreed haue, 
 That death must be the ende of this debate, 
 Alas what floudes of teares shall then suffise, 
 
 To weepe and waile the neare approching death : 
 
 1 meane the death of sonnes and mother both, 
 And with their death the ruine and decay, 
 Of Oedipus and all his princely race ? 
 
 But loe, here Creon comes with carefull cheare. 
 'Tis time that nowe I ende my iust complaint. 
 
 [ Creon commeth in by the gates Homoloydes. 
 
 19 
 
226 IOCASTA. 
 
 CREON. NVNCIVS. 
 
 Although I straightly chargde my tender childe 
 To flie from Thebes for safegarde of hymselfe, 
 And that long since he parted from my sight, 
 Yet doe I greatly hang in lingring doubt, 
 Least passing through the gates, the priuie watch 
 Hath stayed him by some suspect of treason. 
 And so there while, the prophetes hauing skride 
 His hidden fate, he purchast haue the death 
 Which I by all meanes sought he might eschewe : 
 And this mischaunce so much I feare the more, 
 Howe much the wished conquest at the first, 
 Fell happily vnto the towne of Thebes. 
 „ But wise men ought with patience to sustaine 
 „ The sundrie haps that slipperie fortune frames. 
 
 \_Nuncius commeth in by the gates Electrce. 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 Alas, who can direct my hastie steppes 
 Unto the brother of our wofull Queene ? 
 But loe where carefully he standeth here. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 If so the minde maye dreade his owne mishap, 
 Then dread I much, this man that seekes me thus, 
 Hath brought the death of my beloued sonne. 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 My Lorde, the thing you feare is very true, 
 Your sonne Meneceus no longer Hues. 
 
IOCASTA. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Alas who can with stande the heauenly powers ? 
 Well, it beseems not me, ne yet my yeares, 
 In bootelesse plaint to wast my wailefull teares : 
 Do thou recount to me his lucklesse deathe, 
 The order, fourme, and manner of the same. 
 
 NUNCIUS. 
 
 Your sonne (my Lorde) came to Eteocles 
 
 And tolde him this in presence of the rest : 
 
 Renoumed King, neither your victorie, 
 
 Ne yet the safetie of this princely Realme 
 
 In armour doth consist, but in the death 
 
 Of me, of me, (0 most victorious Kong) 
 
 So heauenly dome of mightie Ioue commaunds. 
 
 I (knowing what auayle my death should yeeld 
 
 Unto your grace, and vnto natiue land) 
 
 Might well be deemde a most vngratefull sonne 
 
 Unto this worthy towne, if I would shunne 
 
 The sharpest death to do my countrie good, 
 
 In mourning weede nowe let the vestall Nimphes, 
 
 With fauning tunes commende my faultlesse ghost 
 
 To highest heauens, while I despoyle my selfe, 
 
 That afterwarde (sith Ioue will haue it so) 
 
 To saue your hues, I may receyue my death. 
 
 Of you I craue, curteous Citizens, 
 
 To shrine my corps in tombe of marble stone, 
 
 Whereon graue this : Meneceus here doth lie, 
 
 For countries cause that was content to die. 
 
 This saide, alas, he made no more a doe, 
 
 But drewe his sworde and sheathde it in his brest. 
 
 227 
 
228 IOCASTA. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 No more, I haue inough, returne ye nowe 
 From whence ye came. 
 
 [NunduB retourneth by the gates Electrce. 
 Well, since the bloude of my beloued sonne, 
 Must serue to slake the wrathe of angrie Ioue, 
 And since his onely death must bring to Thebes 
 A quiet ende of hir vnquiet state, 
 Me thinkes good reason would, that I henceforth 
 Of Thebane soyle shoulde beare the kingly swaye, 
 Yea sure, and so I will ere it be long, 
 Either by right, or else by force of armes. 
 Of al mishap loe here the wicked broode, 
 My sister first espoused hath hir sonne 
 That slewe his sire, of whose accursed seede 
 Two brethren sprang, whose raging hatefull hearts, 
 By force of boyling yre are bolne so sore 
 As each do thyrst to sucke the others bloude : 
 But why do I sustaine the smart hereof ? 
 Why should my bloud be spilte for others gilte ? 
 Oh welcome were that messanger to me 
 That brought me word of both my nephewes deathes, 
 Then should it soone be sene in euery eye, 
 
 Twixt prince and prince what difference would appeare, , ] 
 
 Then should experience shewe what griefe it is I 
 
 To serue the humours of vnbridled youth. 
 
 Now will I goe for to prepare with speede \ 
 
 The funeralls of my yong giltlesse sonne, J 
 
 The which perhaps may be accompanyed 33 
 
 With thobsequies of proude Eteocles. \ 
 
 [ Oreon goeth out by the gates Homoloydes* 
 
 Finis Actus. 4. 
 
IOCASTA. 229 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 blisfull concord, bredde in sacred brest 
 Of him that guides the restlesse rolling sky, 
 That to the earth for mans assured rest 
 From heigth of heauens vouchsafest downe to flie, 
 In thee alone the mightie power doth lie, 
 With swete accorde to kepe the frouning starres 
 And euery planet else from hurtfull warres. 
 
 In thee, in thee suche noble vertue bydes, 
 As may commaund the mightiest Gods to bend, 
 From thee alone such sugred frendship slydes 
 As mortall wightes can scarcely comprehend, 
 To greatest strife thou setst delightfull ende. 
 holy peace, by thee are onely founde 
 The passing ioyes that euery where abound. 
 
 Thou onely thou, through thy celestiall might, 
 
 Didst first of all the heauenly pole deuide, 
 
 From th'olde confused heape that Chaos hight : 
 
 Thou madest the Sunne, the Moone, and starres to glide, 
 
 With ordred course about this world so wide : 
 
 Thou hast ordainde Dan Tytans shining light, 
 
 By dawne of day to chase the darkesome night. 
 
 When tract of time returnes the lustie Yer, 
 By thee alone, the buddes and blossomes spring, 
 The fieldes with floures be garnisht euery where, 
 The blooming trees, aboundant fruite do bring, 
 The cherefull birdes melodiously do sing, 
 Thou dost appoint, the crop of sommers seede 
 For mans reliefe, to serue the winters neede. 
 
230 IOCASTA. 
 
 Thou dost inspire the hearts of princely peeres 
 By prouidence, proceeding from aboue, 
 In flowring youth to choose their worthie feeres, 
 With whom they hue in league of lasting loue, 
 Till fearefull death doth flitting life remoue : 
 And loke how fast, to death man payes his due, 
 So fast againe, dost thou his stocke renue. 
 
 By thee, the basest thing aduaunced is, 
 Thou euerie where, dost graffe suche golden peace, 
 As filleth man, with more than earthly blisse, 
 The earth by thee, doth yelde hir swete increase 
 At becke of thee, all bloudy discords cease, 
 And mightiest Realmes in quiet do remaine, 
 Wheras thy hand, doth holde the royall raigne. 
 
 But if thou faile, then all things gone to wracke, 
 The mother then, doth dread hir naturall childe, 
 Then euery towne is subiect to the sacke, 
 Then spotlesse maids, then virgins be defilde, 
 Then rigor rules, then reason is exilde : 
 And this, thou wofull Thebes, to our great paine, 
 With present spoile, art likely to sustaine. 
 
 Me thinke I heare the wailfull weeping cries 
 Of wretched dames, in euerie coast resound, 
 Me thinkes I see, how vp to heauenly skies 
 From battered walls, the thundring clappes rebound 
 Me thinke I heare, how all things go to ground, 
 Me thinke I see, how souldiers wounded lye 
 With gasping breath, and yet they can not dye. 
 
IOCASTA. 231 
 
 By meanes wherof, oh swete Meneceus he, 
 That giues for countries cause his guiltlesse life, 
 Of others all, most happy shall he be : 
 His ghost shall flit, from broiles of bloudy strife, 
 To heauenly blisse, where pleasing ioyes be rife : 
 And would to God, that this his fatall ende 
 From further plagues, our citie might defend. 
 
 sacred God, giue eare vnto thy thrall, 
 That humbly here vpon thy name doth call, 
 let not now, our faultlesse bloud be spilt, 
 For hote reuenge of any others gilt. 
 
 Finis Actus quarti. 
 Done by F. Kinvvelmarshe. 
 
 THE ORDER OF THE LASTE DUMBE SHEVVE. 
 
 First the Stillpipes sounded a very mournfull melodye, 
 in which time came vpon the Stage a woma clothed in 
 a white garment, on Mr head a piller, double faced, the 
 formost face fayre $> smiling, the other behinde blacke 
 & louring, muffled with a ivhite laune about Mr eyes, 
 Mr lap full of Ieivelles, sitting in a charyot, Mr legges 
 naked, Mr fete set vpo a great round ball, <f beyng draive 
 
232 IOCASTA. 
 
 in by. iiij. noble personages, she ledde in a string on Mr 
 light hande. ij. kings crowned, and in Mr lefte hand. ij. 
 poore slaues very meanely attyred. After she was drawen 
 about the stage, she stayed a lyttle, changing the kings 
 vnto the left hande §■ the slaues vnto the right hande, 
 taking the crownes from the kings heads she crowned 
 therwith the. ij. slaues, £ casting the vyle clothes of the 
 slaues vppon the kings, she despoyled the kings of their 
 robes, and therwith aparelled the slaues. This done, she 
 was drawen eftsones about the stage in this order, and 
 then departed, leauing vnto vs a plaine Type or figure 
 of vnstdble fortune, who dothe oftentimes raise to heigthe 
 of dignitie the vile and vnnoble, and in like manner 
 throweth downe fro the place of promotio, euen those 
 who before she Mr selfe had thither aduaunced : after 
 Mr departure came in Duke Creon ivith foure gentlemen 
 wayting vpon him, and lamented the death of Meneceus 
 his sonne in this maner. 
 
 ACTUS. V. SCENA. J. 
 
 CREON. CHORVS. 
 
 ALAS what shall I do ? bemone my selfe ? 
 Or rue the ruine of my Natiue lande, 
 About the which such cloudes I see enclosde 
 As darker cannot couer dreadfull hell. 
 "With mine own eyes I saw my own deare sonne 
 
IOCASTA. 233 
 
 All gorde with bloud of his too bloudy brest, 
 Which he hath shed full like a friend, too deare 
 To his countrey, and yet a cruell foe 
 To me that was his friend and father both. 
 Thus to him selfe he gaynde a famous name, 
 And glory great, to me redoubled payne, 
 Whose haplesse death in my afflicted house, 
 Hath put suche playnt, as I ne can espie 
 What comfort might acquiet their distresse. 
 I hither come my sister for to seeke, 
 Iocasta, she that might in wofull wise 
 Amid hir high and ouerpining cares 
 Prepare the baynes for his so wretched corps, 
 And eke for him that nowe is not in life, 
 May pay the due that to the dead pertaynes, 
 And for the honor he did well deserue, 
 To giue some giftes vnto infernall Gods. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 My Lorde, your sister is gone forth long since, 
 Into the campe, and with hir Antigone 
 Hir daughter deare. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Into the campe ? alas and what to do ? 
 
 CHOKVS. 
 
 She vnderstoode, that for this realme foorthwith 
 Hir sonnes were greed in combate for to ioyne. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Alas, the funerals of my deare sonne 
 20 
 
234 IOCASTA. 
 
 Dismayed me so, that I ne did receiue, 
 
 Ne seeke to knowe these newe vnwelcome newes. 
 
 But loe, beholde a playne apparant signe 
 
 Of further feares, the furious troubled lookes 
 
 Of him that commeth heere so hastilie. 
 
 SCENA. IJ. 
 
 NVNTIVS. CREON. CHORVS. 
 
 Alas, alas, what shall I doe ? alas, 
 What shriching voyce may serue my wofull wordes ? 
 wretched I, ten thousande times a wretche, 
 The messanger of dread and cruell death. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Yet more mishappe ? and what vnhappie newes ? 
 
 NUNTIUS. 
 
 My Lord, your nephues both haue lost their liues. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Out and alas, to me and to this towne 
 
 Thou doest accompt great mine and decay : 
 
 You royall familie of Oedipus, 
 
 And heare you this ? your liege and soueraigne Lordes 
 
 The brethren bothe are slayne and done to death. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 cruell newes, most cruell that can come, 
 newes that might these stony walles prouoke 
 For tender ruthe to burst in bitter teares, 
 And so they would, had they the sense of man. 
 
IOCASTA. 235 
 
 CREON. 
 
 worthy yong Lordes, that vnworthy were 
 Of suche vnworthy death, me moste wretche. 
 
 NUNTITJS. 
 
 More wretched shall ye deeme your selfe, my lord, 
 When you shall heare of further miserie. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 And can there be more miserie than this ? 
 
 NUNTITTS. 
 
 With hir deare sonnes the queene hir self is slaine. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 Bewayle ladies, alas good ladies waile 
 
 This harde mischaunce, this cruell common euill, 
 
 Ne hencefoorth hope for euer to reioyce. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Iocasta, miserable mother, 
 
 What haplesse ende thy life alas hath hent ? 
 
 Percase the heauens purueyed had the same, 
 
 Moued therto by the wicked wedlocke 
 
 Of Oedipus thy sonne, yet might thy scuse 
 
 Be iustly made, that knewe not of the crime. 
 
 But tell me messanger, oh tell me yet 
 
 The death of these two brethren, driuen therto, 
 
 Not thus all onely by their drearie fate, 
 
 But by the banning and the bitter cursse 
 
 Of their cruell sire, borne for our annoy, 
 
 And here on earth the onely soursse of euil. 
 
236 IOCASTA. 
 
 NUNTIUS. 
 
 Then know my Lorde, the battell that begonne 
 Under the walles, was brought to luckie ende, 
 Eteocles had made his foemen flee 
 Within their trenches, to their foule reproche : 
 But herewithall the bretheren streightway 
 Eche other chalenge foorth into the fielde, 
 By combate so to stinte their cruell strife, 
 Who armed thus amid the field appeard. 
 First Pollinices turning towarde Greece 
 His louely lookes, gan Iuno thus beseeche : 
 
 heauenly queene, thou seest, that since the day 
 
 1 first did wedde Adrastus daughter deare, 
 
 And stayde in Greece, thy seruaunt haue I bene : 
 
 Then (be it not for mine vnworthinesse) 
 
 Graunt me this grace, the victorie to winne, 
 
 Graunt me, that I with high triumphant hande, 
 
 May bathe this blade within my brothers brest : 
 
 I know I craue vnworthy victorie, 
 
 Unworthy triumphes, and vnworthy spoyles, 
 
 Lo he the cause, my cruell enimie. 
 
 The people wept to heare the wofull wordes 
 
 Of Pollinice, foreseeing eke the ende 
 
 Of this outrage and cruell combate tane, 
 
 Eche man gan looke vpon his drouping mate, 
 
 With mindes amazde, and trembling hearts for dread, 
 
 Whom pitie perced for these youthfull knightes. 
 
 Eteocles with eyes vp cast to heauen, 
 
 Thus sayde : 
 
 mightie Ioue his daughter graunt to me, 
 
 That this right hande with this sharpe armed launce 
 
 Passing amid my brothers cankred brest, 
 
 
IOCASTA. 
 
 237 
 
 It may eke pierce that cowarde harte of his, 
 And so him slea that thus vnworthily 
 Disturbes the quiet of our common weale. 
 So sayde Eteocles, and trumpets blowne, 
 To sende the summons of their bloudy fighte, 
 That one the other fiercely did encounter, 
 Like Lions two yfraught with boyling wrath, 
 Bothe coucht their launces full agaynst the face, 
 But heauen it nolde that there they should them teinte : 
 Upon the battred shields the mightie speares 
 Are bothe ybroke, and in a thousande shiuers 
 Amid the ayre flowne vp into the heauens : 
 Beholde agayne, with naked sworde in hande, 
 Eche one the other furiously assaultes. 
 Here they of Thebes, there stoode the Greekes in doubt, 
 Of whom doth eche man feele more chilling dread, 
 Least any of the twayne should lose his life, 
 Than any of the twayne did feele in fight. 
 Their angry lookes, their deadly daunting blowes, 
 Might witnesse well, that in their heartes remaynde 
 As cankred hate, disdayne, and furious moode, 
 As euer bred in beare or tygers brest. 
 The first that hapt to hurt was Polinice, 
 Who smote the righte thighe of Eteocles : 
 But as we deeme, the blow was nothing deepe, 
 Then cryed the Greekes, and lepte with lightned harts, 
 But streight agayne they helde their peace, for he 
 Eteocles gan thrust his wicked sworde 
 In the lefte arme of vnarmed Pollinice, 
 And let the bloud from thinne vnfenced fleshe 
 With falling drops distill vpon the ground, 
 Ne long he stayes, but with an other thrust 
 20* 
 
238 IOCASTA. 
 
 His brothers belly boweld with bis blade, 
 
 Then wretched he, with bridle left at large, 
 
 From of his horsse fell pale vpon the ground, 
 
 Ne long it was, but downe our duke dismount es 
 
 From of his startling steede, and runnes in hast, 
 
 His brothers haplesse helme for to vnlace, 
 
 And with such hungry minde desired spoyle, 
 
 As one that thought the fielde already woonne : 
 
 That at vnwares, his brothers dagger drawne, 
 
 And griped fast within the dying hand, 
 
 Under his side he recklesse doth receiue, 
 
 That made the way to his wyde open hart : 
 
 Thus falles Eteocles his brother by, 
 
 From both whose breasts the bloud fast bubling, gaue 
 
 A sory she we to Greekes and Thebanes both. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 Oh wretched ende of our vnhappie Lordes. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Oh Oedipus, I must bewaile the death 
 
 Of thy deare sonnes, that were my nephewes both, 
 
 But of these blowes thou oughtest feele the smarte, 
 
 That with thy wonted prayers, thus hast brought 
 
 Such noble blouds to this vnnoble end. 
 
 But now tell on, what followed of the Queene ? 
 
 NUNTIUS. 
 
 Whe thus with pierced harts, by there owne hands 
 The brothers fell had wallowed in their bloud, 
 Th'one tumbling on the others gore, 
 Came their afflicted mother, then to late, 
 
 
 
IOCASTA. 239 
 
 And eke with hir, hir chast chilcle Antygone, 
 
 Who saw no sooner how their fates had falne, 
 
 But with the doubled echo of alas, 
 
 Sore dymmde the ayre with loude complaints and cryes : 
 
 Oh sonnes (quod she) too late came all my helpe, 
 
 And all to late haue I my succour sent : 
 
 And with these wordes, vpon their carcas colde 
 
 She shriched so, as might haue stayed the Sunne 
 
 To mourne with hir, the wofull sister eke, 
 
 That both hir chekes did bathe in flowing teares, 
 
 Out from the depth of hir tormented brest, 
 
 With scalding sighes gan draw these weary words : 
 
 my deare brethren, why abandon ye 
 
 Our mother deare, when these hir aged yeares, 
 
 That of themselues are weake and growne with griefe, 
 
 Stoode most in neede of your sustaining helpe ? 
 
 Why doe you leaue hir thus disconsolate ? 
 
 At sounde of such hir weeping long lament, 
 
 Eteocles our king helde vp his hand, 
 
 And sent from bottome of his wofull brest 
 
 A doubled sighe, deuided with his griefe, 
 
 In faithfull token of his feeble will 
 
 To recomfort his mother and sister both : 
 
 And in the steade of sweete contenting words, 
 
 The trickling teares raynde downe his paled chekes : 
 
 Then claspt his handes, and shut his dying eyes. 
 
 But Pollinice, that turned his rolling eyen 
 
 Unto his mother and his sister deare, 
 
 With hollow voyce and fumbling toung, thus spake : 
 
 Mother, you see how I am now arryued 
 
 Unto the hauen of myne vnhappie ende, 
 
 Now nothing doth remaine to me, but this, 
 

 240 IOCASTA. 
 
 That I lament my sisters life and yours 
 
 Left thus in euerlasting woe and griefe : 
 
 So am I sory for Eteocles, 
 
 Who though he were my cruell enimy, 
 
 He was your sonne, and brother yet to me : 
 
 But since these ghosts of ours must needes go downe 
 
 With staggering steppes into the Stigian reigne, 
 
 I you beseche, mother and sister bothe, 
 
 Of pitie yet, that you will me procure 
 
 A royall tombe within my natiue realme, 
 
 And now shut vp with those your tender handes, 
 
 These grieffull eyes of mine, whose daseled light 
 
 Shadowes of dreadfull death be come to close, 
 
 Now rest in peace, this sayde, he yeelded vp 
 
 His fainting ghost, that ready was to part. 
 
 The mother thus beholding both hir sonnes 
 
 Ydone to death, and ouercome with dole, 
 
 Drewe out the dagger of hir Pollinices, 
 
 From brothers brest, and gorde hir mothers throte 
 
 Falling betweene hir sonnes, 
 
 Then with hir feebled armes, she doth enfolde 
 
 Their bodies both, as if for company 
 
 Hir vncontented corps were yet content 
 
 To passe with them in Charons ferrie boate. 
 
 When cruell fate had thus with force bereft 
 
 The wofull mother and hir two deare sonnes, 
 
 All sodenly allarme allarme they crye, 
 
 And hote conflict began for to aryse 
 
 Betwene our armie and our enemyes : 
 
 For either part would haue the victory e. 
 
 A while they did with equall force maintaine 
 
 The bloudy fight, at last the Greekes do flie, 
 
 
IOCASTA. 241 
 
 Of whom could hardly any one escape, 
 
 For in such hugie heapes our men them slew, 
 
 The ground was couerde all with carcases : 
 
 And of our souldiers, some gan spoyle the dead, 
 
 Some other were that parted out the pray, 
 
 And some pursuing Antigone toke vp 
 
 The Queene Iocasta and the brethren both, 
 
 Whom in a chariot hither they will bring 
 
 Ere long : and thus, although we gotten haue 
 
 The victory ouer our enemies, 
 
 Yet haue we lost much more than we haue wonne. 
 
 \_Creon exit. 
 
 chorvs. 
 
 hard mishap, we doe not onely heare 
 
 The wearie newes of their vntimely death, 
 
 But eke we must with wayling eyes beholde 
 
 Their bodies deade, for loke where they be brought. 
 
 SCENA. 3. 
 
 ANTIGONE. CHORVS. 
 
 Most bitter plaint, ladyes, vs behoues, 
 
 Behoueth eke not onely bitter plainte, 
 
 But that our heares dysheuylde from our heades 
 
 About our shoulders hang, and that our brests 
 
 With bouncing blowes be all be battered, 
 
 Our gastly faces with our nayles defaced : 
 
 Behold, your Queene twixt both hir sonnes lyes slayne, 
 
 The Queene whom you did loue and honour both, 
 
 The Queene that did so tenderly bring vp 
 
 And nourishe you, eche one like to hir owne, 
 
242 IOCASTA. 
 
 Now hath she left you all (0 cruell hap) 
 With hir too cruell death in dying dreade, 
 Pyning with pensifenesse without all helpe. 
 weary life, why bydst thou in my breast, 
 And I contented be that these mine eyes 
 Should see hir dye that gaue to me this life, 
 And I not venge hir death by losse of life ? 
 Who can me giue a fountaine made of mone, 
 That I may weepe as muche as is my will, 
 To sowsse this sorow vp in swelling teares ? 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 What stony hart could leaue for to lament ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Polinice, now hast thou with thy bloud 
 Bought all too deare the title to this realme, 
 That cruell he Eteocles thee refte, 
 And now also hath reft thee of thy life, 
 Alas, what wicked dede can wrath not doe ? 
 And out alas for mee. 
 Whyle thou yet liuedst I had a liuely hope 
 To haue some noble wight to be my pheere, 
 By whome I might be crownde a royall Queene : 
 But now, thy hastie death hath done to dye 
 This dying hope of mine, that hope hencefoorth 
 None other wedlocke, but tormenting woe, 
 If so these trembling hands for cowarde dread 
 Dare not presume to ende this wretched life. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 Alas deare dame, let not thy raging griefe 
 Heape one mishap vpon anothers head. 
 
IOCASTA. 243 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 dolefull day, wherein my sory sire 
 
 Was borne , and yet more vnhappie houre 
 
 When he was crowned king of stately Thebes, 
 
 The Hymenei in vnhappie bed, 
 
 And wicked wedlocke, wittingly did ioyne 
 
 The giltlesse mother with hir giltie sonne, 
 
 Out of which roote we be the braunches borne, 
 
 To beare the scourge of their so foule offence : 
 
 And thou, father, thou that for this facte, 
 
 Haste torne thine eyes from thy tormented head, 
 
 Giue eare to this, come foorth, and bende thine eare 
 
 To bloudie newes, that canst not them beholde : 
 
 Happie in this, for if thine eyes could see 
 
 Thy sonnes bothe slayne, and euen betweene them bothe 
 
 Thy wife and mother dead, bathed and imbrude 
 
 All in one bloud, then wouldst thou dye for dole, 
 
 And so might ende all our vnluckie stocke. 
 
 But most vnhappie nowe, that lacke of sighte 
 
 Shall linger life within thy lucklesse brest, 
 
 And still tormented in suche miserie, 
 
 Shall alwayes dye, bicause thou canst not dye. 
 
 [Oedipus entreth. 
 
 SCENA. IIIJ. 
 OEDIPVS. ANTIGONE. CHORVS. 
 
 Why dost thou call out of this darkesome denne, 
 The lustlesse lodge of my lamenting yeres, 
 daughter deare, thy fathers blinded eyes, 
 Into the light I was not worthy of ? 
 
244 IOCASTA. 
 
 Or what suche sight (0 cruell destenie) 
 Without tormenting cares might I beholde, 
 That image am of deathe and not of man ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 father mine, I bring vnluckie newes 
 Unto your eares, your sonnes are nowe both slayne, 
 Ne doth your wife, that wonted was to guyde 
 So piteously your staylesse stumbling steppes, 
 Now see this light, alas and welaway. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 heape of infinite calamities, 
 And canst thou yet encrease when I thought least 
 That any griefe more great could grow in thee ? 
 But tell me yet, what kinde of cruell death 
 Had these three sory soules ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Without offence to speake, deare father mine, 
 The lucklesse lotte, the frowarde frowning fate 
 That gaue you life to ende your fathers life, 
 Haue ledde your sonnes to reaue eche others life. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 Of them I thought no lesse, but tell me yet 
 
 What causelesse death hath caught from me my deare, 
 
 (What shall I call hir) mother or my wife ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 When as my mother sawe hir deare sonnes dead, 
 As pensiue pangs had prest hir tender heart, 
 
IOCASTA. 245 
 
 With bloudlesse cheekes and gastly lookes she fell, 
 Drawing the dagger from Eteocles side, 
 She gorde hirselfe with wide recurelesse wounde : 
 And thus, without mo words, gaue vp the ghost, 
 Embracing both hir sonnes with both hir armes. 
 In these affrightes this frosen heart of mine, 
 By feare of death majnteines my dying life. 
 
 CHORVS. 
 
 This drearie day is cause of many euils, 
 Poore Oedipus, vnto thy progenie. 
 The Gods yet graunt it may become the cause 
 Of better happe to this afflicted realme. 
 
 SCENA. V. 
 f CREON. OEDIPVS. ANTIGONE. 
 
 Good Ladies leaue your bootelesse vayne complaynt, 
 Leaue to lament, cut of your wofull cryes, 
 High time it is as now for to prouide 
 The funerals for the renowned king : 
 And thou Oedipus hearken to my wordes, 
 And know thus muche, that for thy daughters dower, 
 Antigone with Hemone shall wedde. 
 Thy sonne our king not long before his death 
 Assigned hath the kingdome should descende 
 To me, that am his mothers brother borne, 
 And so the same might to my sonne succeede. 
 Now I that am the lorde and king of Thebes, 
 Will not permit that thou abide therein : 
 Ne maruell yet of this my heady will, 
 21 
 
246 
 
 IOCASTA. 
 
 Ne blame thou me, for why, the heauens aboue, 
 Which onely rule the rolling life of man, 
 Haue so ordeynde, and that my words be true, 
 Tyresias he that knoweth things to come, 
 By trustie tokens hath foretolde the towne, 
 That while thou didst within the walles remayne, 
 It should be plagued still with penurie : 
 Wherfore departe, and thinke not that I speake 
 These wofull wordes for hate I beare to thee, 
 But for the weale of this afflicted realme. 
 
 [OEDIPVS.] 
 
 foule accursed fate, that hast me bredde 
 To beare the burthen of the miserie 
 Of this colde death, which we accompt for life : 
 Before my birth my father vnderstoode 
 
 1 should him slea, and scarcely was I borne, 
 When he me made a pray for sauage beastes. 
 But what ? I slew him yet, then caught the crowne, 
 And last of all defilde my mothers bedde, 
 By whom I haue this wicked ofspring got : 
 And to this heinous crime and filthy facte 
 The heauens haue from highe enforced me, 
 Agaynst whose doome no counsell can preuayle. 
 Thus hate I now my life, and last of all, 
 Lo by the newes of this so cruell death 
 Of bothe my sonnes and deare beloued wife, 
 Mine angrie constellation me commaundes 
 Withouten eyes to wander in mine age, 
 When these my weery, weake, and crooked limmes 
 Haue greatest neede to craue their quiet rest. 
 
 cruell Creon, wilt thou slea me so, I 
 
 
IOCASTA. 247 
 
 For cruelly thou doste but murther me, 
 Out of my kingdome now to chase me thus : 
 Yet can I not with humble minde beseeche 
 Thy curtesie, ne fall before thy feete. 
 Let fortune take from me these worldly giftes, 
 She can not conquere this couragious heart, 
 That neuer yet could well be ouercome, 
 To force me yeelde for feare to villanie : 
 Do what thou canst I will be Oedipus. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 So hast thou reason Oedipus, to say, 
 
 And for my parte I would thee counsell eke, 
 
 Still to maynteine the high and hawtie minde, 
 
 That hath bene euen in thy noble heart : 
 
 For this be sure, if thou wouldst kisse these knees, 
 
 And practise eke by prayer to preuayle, 
 
 No pitie coulde persuade me to consent 
 
 That thou remayne one onely houre in Thebes. 
 
 And nowe, prepare you worthie Citizens, 
 
 The funeralls that duely doe pertayne 
 
 Unto the Queene, and to Eteocles, 
 
 And eke for them prouide their stately tombes. 
 
 But Pollynice, as common enimie 
 
 Unto his countrey, carrie foorth his corps 
 
 Out of the walles, ne none so hardie be 
 
 On paine of death his bodie to engraue, 
 
 But in the fieldes let him vnburied lye, 
 
 Without his honour, and without complaynte, 
 
 An open praie for sauage beastes to spoyle. 
 
 And thou Antigone, drie vp thy teares, 
 
 Plucke vp thy sprites, and cheere thy harmelesse hearte 
 
248 IOCASTA. 
 
 To manage : for ere these two dayes passe, 
 Thou shalt espouse Hemone myne onely heire. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Father, I see vs wrapt in endlesse woe, 
 
 And nowe muche more doe I your state lamente, 
 
 Than these that nowe be dead, not that I thinke 
 
 Theyr greate missehappes too little to bewayle. 
 
 But this, that you, you onely doe surpasse 
 
 All wretched wightes that in this worlde remayne. 
 
 But you my Lorde, why banishe you with wrong 
 
 My father thus out of his owne perforce ? 
 
 And why will you denye these guiltlesse bones 
 
 Of Polinice, theyr graue in countrey soyle ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 So would not I, so woulde Eteocles. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 He cruel was, you fonde to hold his hestes. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Is then a fault to doe a kings comaund ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 When his comaunde is cruel and vniust. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Is it vniust that he vnburied be ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 He not deseru'd so cruell punishment. 
 
IOCASTA. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 He was his countreys cruell enimie. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Or else was he that helde him from his right, 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Bare he not armes against his natiue land ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Offendeth he that sekes to winne his owne ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Perforce to thee he shall vnburied be. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Perforce to thee these hands shall burie him, 
 
 CREON. 
 
 And with him eke then will I burie thee. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 So graunt the gods, I get none other graue, 
 Then with my Polinices deare to rest. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Go sirs, lay holde on hir, and take hir in. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 I will not leaue this corps vnburied. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Canst thou vndoe the thing that is decreed ? 
 
 21* 
 
 249 
 
250 IOCASTA. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 A wicked foule decree to wrong the dead. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 The ground ne shall ne ought to couer him. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Creon, yet I beseche thee for the loue 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Away I say, thy prayers not preuaile. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 That thou didst beare Iocasta in hir life, 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Thou dost but waste thy words amid the wind. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Yet graunt me leaue to washe his wounded corps. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 It can not be that I should graunt thee so. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 my deare Polinice, this tirant yet 
 With all his wrongfull force can not fordoe, 
 But I will kisse these colde pale lippes of thine, 
 And washe thy wounds with my waymenting teares. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 simple wench, fonde and foolishe girle, 
 
IOCASTA. 
 
 Beware, beware, thy teares do not foretell 
 Some signe of hard mishap vnto thy mariage. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 --• 
 
 No, no for Hemone will I neuer wed. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Dost thou refuse the mariage of my sonne ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 I will nor him, nor any other wed. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Against thy will then must I thee constraine. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 If thou me force, I sweare thou shalt repent. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 What canst thou cause that I should once repent ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 With bloudy knife I can this knot vnknit. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 And what a foole were thou to kill thy selfe ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 I will ensue some worthie womans steppes. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Speake out Antigone, that I may heare. 
 
 251 
 
252 IOCASTA. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 This hardie hand shall soone dispatche his life. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 simple foole, and darst thou be so bolde ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Why should I dread to doe so doughtie deede ? 
 
 CREON. 
 
 And wherfore dost thou wedlocke so despise ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 In cruell exile for to folow him. [pointing to Oedipus. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 What others might beseme, besemes not thee. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 If neede require, with him eke will I dye. 
 
 CREON. 
 
 Depart, depart, and with thy father dye, 
 Rather than kill my childe with bloudie knife : 
 Go hellishe monster, go out of the towne. 
 
 \_Creon exit. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 Daughter, I must commend thy noble heart. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Father, I will neuer come in company 
 And you alone wander in wildernesse. 
 
IOCASTA. 253 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 yes deare daughter, leaue thou me alone 
 Amid my plagues : be mery while thou maist. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 And who shall guide these aged feete of yours, 
 That banisht bene, in blind necessitie ? 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 1 will endure, as fatall lot me driues, 
 Resting these crooked sory sides of mine 
 Where so the heauens shall lend me harborough. 
 And in exchange of riche and stately toures, 
 
 The woodes, the wildernesse, the darkesome dennes 
 Shalbe the bowre of mine vnhappy bones. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 father, now where is your glory gone ? 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 „ One happy day did raise me to renoune, 
 
 „ One haplesse day hath throwne mine honor downe. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Yet will I beare a part of your mishappes. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 That sitteth not amid thy pleasant yeares. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 „ Deare father yes, let youth giue place to age. 
 
254 IOCASTA. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 Where is thy mother ? let me touche hir face, 
 That with these hands I may yet feele the harme 
 That these blind eyes forbid me to beholde. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Here father, here hir corps, here put your hand. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 wife, mother, both wofull names, 
 wofull mother, and wofull wyfe, 
 woulde to God, alas, woulde to God 
 Thou nere had bene my mother, nor my wyfe. 
 But where lye nowe the paled bodies two, 
 Of myne vnluckie sonnes, Oh where be they ? 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Lo here they lye one by an other deade. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 Stretch out this hand, dere daughter, stretch this hande 
 Upon their faces. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Loe father, here, lo, nowe you touche them both. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 bodies deare, bodies dearely boughte 
 Unto your father, bought with high missehap. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 louely name of my deare Pollinice, 
 
IOCASTA. 255 
 
 Why can I not of cruell Creon craue, 
 
 Ne with my death noAve purchase thee a graue ? 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 Nowe commes Apollos oracle to passe, 
 
 That I in Athens towne should end my dayes : 
 
 And since thou doest, daughter myne, desire 
 
 In this exile to be my wofull mate, 
 
 Lende mee thy hande, and let vs goe togither. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Loe, here all prest my deare beloued father, 
 A feeble guyde, and eke a simple skowte, 
 To passe the perills in a doubtfull wave. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 Unto the wretched, be a wretched guyde. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 In this all onely equall to my father. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 And where shall I sette foorth my trembling feete ? 
 
 reache mee yet some surer staffe, to staye 
 
 My staggryng pace amidde these wayes vnknowne. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Here father here, and here set forth your feete. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 Nowe can I blame none other for my harmes 
 But secrete spight of foredecreed fate, 
 
256 IOCASTA. 
 
 Thou arte the cause, that crooked, olde and blynde, 
 I ani exilde farre from my countrey soyle, 
 And suffer dole that I myghte not endure. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 „ father, father, Iustice lyes on sleepe, 
 
 ,, Ne doth re garde the wrongs of wretchednesse, 
 
 „ Ne princes swelling pryde it doth redresse. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 carefull caytife, howe am I nowe chang'd 
 
 From that I was ? I am that Oedipus, 
 
 That whylome had triumphant victorie, 
 
 And was bothe dread and honored eke in Thebes : 
 
 But nowe (so pleaseth you my frowarde starres) 
 
 Downe headlong hurlde in depth of myserie, 
 
 So that remaynes of Oedipus no more 
 
 As nowe in mee, but euen the naked name, 
 
 And lo, this image, that resembles more 
 
 Shadowes of death, than shape of Oedipus. 
 
 .ANTIGONE. 
 
 father, nowe forgette the pleasaunt dayes ■ 
 And happie lyfe that you did whylom leade, 
 The muse whereof redoubleth but your griefe : 
 Susteyne the smarte of these your present paynes 
 With pacience, that best may you preserue. 
 Lo where I come, to hue and die with you, 
 Not (as sometymes) the daughter of a king, 
 But as an abiect nowe in pouertie, 
 That you, by presence of suche faithfull guide, 
 May better beare the wracke of miserie. 
 

 IOCASTA. 257 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 onely comforte of my cruell happe. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 Your daughters pitie is but due to you : 
 Woulde God I might as well ingraue the corps 
 Of my deare Pollinice, but I ne maye, 
 And that I can not, doubleth all my dole. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 This thy desire, that is both good and iuste, 
 Imparte to some that be thy trustie frendes, 
 Who moude with pitie, maye procure the same. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 „ Beleeue me father, when dame fortune frownes, 
 „ Be fewe that fynde trustie companions. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 And of those fewe, yet one of those am I : 
 Wherefore, goe we nowe daughter, leade the waye 
 Into the stonie rockes and highest hilles, 
 Where fewest trackes our steppings may be spyde. 
 ,, Who once hath sit in chaire of dignitie, 
 „ May shame to shewe him selfe in miserie. 
 
 ANTIGONE. 
 
 From thee, countrey, am I forst to parte, 
 Despoyled thus in floure of my youth, 
 And yet I leaue within mine enimies rule 
 Ismene my infortunate sister. 
 
 22 
 
258 IOCASTA. 
 
 OEDIPVS. 
 
 Deare Citizens, beholde your lorde and king 
 
 That Thebes set in quiet gouernement, 
 
 Nowe as you see, neglected of you all, 
 
 And in these ragged ruthfull weedes bewrapt, 
 
 Ychased from his natiue countrey soyle, 
 
 Betakes him selfe (for so this Tyraunt will) 
 
 To euerlasting banishment : but why 
 
 Do I lament my lucklesse lotte in vayne ? 
 
 „ Since euery man must beare with quiet minde, 
 
 ,, The fate that heauens haue earst to him assignde. 
 
 CHOKVS. 
 
 Example here, lo take by Oedipus, 
 
 You kings and princes in prosperitie, 
 
 And euery one that is desirous 
 
 To sway the seate of worldly dignitie, 
 
 How fickle is to trust in fortunes wheele : 
 
 For him, whom now she hoj^seth vp on hye, 
 
 If so he chaunce on any side to reele, 
 
 She hurles him downe in twinkling of an eye : 
 
 And him agayne, that grouleth now on grounde, 
 
 And lyeth lowe in dungeon of dispaire, 
 
 Hir whirling wheele can heaue vp at a bounde, 
 
 And place aloft in stay of stately chaire. 
 
 As from the Sunne the Moone withdrawes hir face, 
 
 So might of man dothe yeelde dame fortune place. 
 
 Finis Actus quinti. 
 
IOCASTA. 259 
 
 EPILOGUS. 
 
 Lo here the fruite of high aspiring minde, 
 Who weenes to mount aboue the mouing skies : 
 Lo here the trappe that titles proud do finde, 
 See, ruine growes when most we reache to ryse : 
 Sweete is the name, and stately is the raigne 
 Of kingly rule, and sway of royall seate, 
 But bitter is the taste of Princes gayne, 
 When climbing heads do hunte for to be great. 
 Who would forecast the banke of restlesse toyle, 
 Ambitious wightes do fraight their brestes withall, 
 The growing cares, the feares of dreadfull foyle, 
 The euill successe that on suche flightes do fall, 
 He would not streyne his practise to atchiue 
 The largest limites of the mightiest states. 
 But oh, what fansies sweete do still relieue 
 The hungry humor of these swelling hates ? 
 What poyson sweete inflameth highe desire ? 
 How soone the hawty heart is puft with pride ? 
 How soone is thirst of scepter set on fire ? 
 How soone in rising mindes doth mischiefe slyde ? 
 What bloudy sturres doth glut of honour breede ? 
 Thambitious sonne doth ofte surpresse his syre : 
 Where natures power vnfayned loue should spread, 
 There malice raynes and reacheth to be higher. 
 blinde vnbridled searche of Soueraintie, 
 tickle trayne of euill attayned state, 
 fonde desire of princely dignitie, 
 Who climbs too soone, he ofte repents too late. 
 
260 IOCASTA. 
 
 The golden meane the happie dothe suffise, 
 They leade the posting day in rare delight, 
 They fill (not feede) their vncontented eyes, 
 They reape suche rest as dothe begile the night, 
 They not enuie the pompe of haughtie reigne, 
 Ne dreade the dinte of proude vsurping swoorde, 
 But plaste alowe, more sugred ioyes attaine, 
 Than swaye of loftie Scepter can afoorde. 
 Cease to aspire then, cease to soare so high, 
 And shnnne the plague that pierceth noble breastes 
 To glittring courtes what fondnesse is to flee, 
 When better state in baser Towers rests ? 
 
 Finis JSpilogi, Done by Chr. Yeluerton. 
 
 Printed by Henrie Bynneman 
 for Richarde Smith. 
 
iMtes* 
 
 22* 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 3. Dame coye. Jacke Jugler.] The British Bibliographer, Vol. 1= 
 p. 479, notices one of Copland's books, a "hystorie of Valentyne & 
 Orson," plenteously adorned with wood-cuts, among which are two of the 
 three which appear with this play. It seems that a certain number of 
 figures, male and female, differing in dress and attitude, were engraved 
 with a blank scroll over the head of each. These were variously com- 
 bined, with the addition of a tree, town, or castle, and the names over the 
 heads altered to suit the case. Jack Jugler stands for a Scotchman in 
 Borde's Introduction to Knowledge (Brit Bib., IV. 21 ), and, no doubt, in 
 his time played many parts. 
 
 Page 5, v. 1. Interpone tuis] L. iii., D. vii., of the Disticha de Moribus, a 
 metrical system of ethics attributed to Dionysius Cato, a work very pop- 
 ular in the Middle Ages and used as a manual of instruction. 
 
 Page 6, v. 13. Quod caret] Ovid, Her., Ep. iv. v. 89. 
 
 Page 7, v. 1. And Cicero Tullius] De Off., L. I. c. xxix. §§ 103, 104. 
 
 Page 9, v. 14. and god before] i. e. God being my helper. So p. 33, 
 v. 6; p. 126, v. 16. 
 
 Page 10, v. 9. At the BuJclers] " Within these few years you should 
 often see a sort of Gladiators marching thro' the Streets, in their Shirts to 
 the Waste, their Sleeves tuck'd up, sword in hand, and preceded by a Drum, 
 to gather Spectators. They gave so much a head to see the Fight, which 
 was with cutting Swords, and a kind of Bukler for defence Ap- 
 prentices, and all Boys of that degree, are never without their Cudgels, with 
 which they fight something like the Eellows before mention'd, only that 
 the Cudgel is nothing but a Stick." Brand, Pop. Antiq., 4to., Vol. II. p. 
 283. 
 
 v. 22. By cokes precious potstihe,] A corruption of " God's precious 
 body," to avoid the impiety. It occurs also in Roister Doister (Shake. 
 Soc), p. 50. We have gods precious, p. 29, v. 17, and cockes precius pas- 
 sion, p. 30, v. 28. 
 
264 NOTES. 
 
 Page 11, v. 1. faryng at all] " I fare, I playe at a game so named at 
 the dyse." — Palsgrave, ap. Promptorium Parvulorum (Cam. Soc.). Faryng 
 means perhaps only — hazarding. 
 
 Page 12, v. 9. now wol I sig hei hei] should obviously stand — now 
 hei hei wol I sig. 
 
 v. 26. saint Loye] is the saint by whom the Prioress made her great- 
 est oath, and is the proper reading in Chaucer, according to Mr. Wright 
 ( Cant. Tales, v. 120). The same form occurs frequently, and is said to be 
 a corruption of St. Eloy or St. Eligius. 
 
 Page 15, v. 32. saint George y e boroue.] i. e. St. George to protect, as in 
 Roister Doister, p. 73. The common meaning of to borrow is — for surety. 
 
 Page 16, v. 4. burning in my left ere] The burning of the right ear is 
 an omen that we are well spoken of, that of the left an omen of the con- 
 trary. 
 
 v. 24. by the swet lookes] i. e. by his side locks. Compare p. 122, v. 4 : 
 :t Ish lug the by the swete eares." Sweet seems to be equivalent to <f)i\os 
 in <£tXa yovvara, &c, dear knees. 
 
 Page 17, v. 7. The proverb is explained by Ray, p. 179, edit. 1768. 
 At p. 196 of the same, we have, " His heart fell down to his hose or heels. 
 Animus in pedes decidit? 
 
 Page 18, v. 6. yers. ii.] is to be read — yers twayne. 
 
 v. 18. in our ladye boons] boom should be — bonds. : ' Our lady's 
 bonds " is — the churchyard. 
 
 Page 20, v. 14. thes. x. bons] i. e. his fingers. So p. 28, v. 4. 
 
 Page 25, v. 1. vpo cai] i. e. upon careawaye. 
 
 Page 27, v. 20. with in thee payne of shame] is transposed for — with thee 
 in payne of shame. 
 
 Page 30, v. 12. wallce thy cote] i. e. trim thy jacket. To wallce is to 
 full, as a walker is a fuller, which observation Camden has made concern- 
 ing the proper name Walker. We have " walkt with a waster " in Hey- 
 wood's epigram, Of the foole and the gentleman's nose, and " walkyd with a 
 whyp," Collier's Hist. Dram. Po., Vol. II. p. 398. So, " I have walkyd 
 them well," Wit and Folly, (Per. Soc.) p. 1. 
 
 Page 34, v. 17. wage pastie] is perhaps, like snatch-pasty (Halliwell's 
 Dictionary), — greedy fellow, though there is certainly no propriety in the 
 epithet here. We have in Roister Doister, p. 35, 
 
 " Not with you, Sir, but with a little wag-pastie; 
 A deceiver of folkes, by subtill craft and guile." 
 
 Page 41, v. 13. netJier nard ne sene] Nather ne . . . . ne is the Saxon 
 for — neither .... nor. When the ne is compounded with a word be- 
 
 
NOTES. 265 
 
 ginning with h or w, the h or w is left out. Thus, nard for — ne hard, 
 nill for — ne will, nolde for — ne wolde. 
 
 Page 43, v. 22. pigesnie] A term of endearment, according to some 
 from A. S. piga, a maid. " The Romans," says Tyrwhitt (note on Cant. 
 Tales, v. 3268), "used oculus as a term of endearment, and perhaps pig- 
 gesnie, in vulgar language, only means ocellus ; the eyes of that animal 
 being remarkably small." Todd {Johnson's Diet.) gives the expression pigs 
 eie, and Mr. Dyce indorses Tyrwhitt. Is it not more natural, after all, to 
 consider the word a mere diminutive, as Mr. Dyce did in his edition of 
 Middleton's Works ? 
 
 v. 24. Some simple word has been omitted after byne. 
 
 Page 46, v. 5. the laten Sf ground of it] i. e. if they will study the 
 Latin original. 
 
 Page 54, v. 4. play cowch quaile] 
 \ " To lowre, to droupe, to knele, to stowpe, and to play cowche quale." 
 
 Skelton, Speke, Parrot, v. 420, 
 
 " And thou shalt make him couche as doth a quaille." 
 
 Cant. Tales, v. 9082. 
 
 v. 19. make me a sallet] " A colloquy of equivoque, the oldest on our 
 stage, takes place between them on the word sallet." Collier's Hist. Dram. 
 Po., Vol. II. p. 400. 
 
 Page 56, v. 7. make no mo bones] i. e. to invent no difficulties, is ex- 
 plained by Richardson, — to do a thing as readily as a dog eats meat that 
 has no bones. 
 
 v. 13. gonstone] " After the introduction of iron shot (instead of balls 
 of stone) for heavy artillery, the term gunstone was retained in the sense 
 of — bullet." Dyce. 
 
 Page 57, v. 19. crye creke] A very common expression, meaning to 
 acknowledge one's self a coward or to give in. 
 
 " Gyue it up, and cry creke." — Skelton, Vol. II. p. 77, v. 300. 
 " If thou darest, doo it ; els, man, cry creke." 
 
 King Cambises, p. 296, Vol. I., Hawkins's Origin. 
 
 Page 58, v. 9. Yf Beuis of Hampton^] etc. These characters, well 
 known to the readers of romance, were old friends to the audience of Ther- 
 sytes. Skelton professes familiarity with some of them, and their names 
 are continually occurring in the lists of romances or of heroes which the 
 fluent bards of old times were so fond of introducing. Gaunjn and Cay 
 
266 NOTES. 
 
 are as regularly " curtesse " and " crabed," throughout the romance cycle, 
 as Ulysses is crafty, and iEneas pious, in their respective poems. By Col- 
 burne is meant Guy's antagonist, the giant Colbrand. Those who wish to 
 know more about these worthies will consult Warton's Hist, Vol. I. sect. 
 3, Ritson's Metrical Romances, and Sir E. Madden's Syr Gawayne. 
 
 v. 17. lyons on cotsolde] Cotswold is said to be an old word for 
 sheepcote, and hence the name of the hills in Gloucestershire. (Roister 
 Doister, p. 69.) A cotsold lion is proverbially a sheep, as an Essex lion is 
 a calf. We have, "A shepe of Cottyswolde," Skelton, Vol. II. p. 76. 
 v. 275. 
 
 Page 60, vv. 2, 21. briggen yrons] " Brigandines, Brigandirons, Brigan- 
 tinae, took their name from the troops called brigands, by whom they 
 were first worn. The brigandine jacket was composed of square or tri- 
 angular iron plates, quilted within linen, and continued to be used by 
 the archers, from the latter part of the reign of Henry VI., to that of 
 Queen Elizabeth inclusively, with some intermissions." — Meyrick's Criti- 
 cal Inquiry, edit. 1842, II. 142, and III., under Brigandines. 
 
 Page 61, v. 11. Mulciber, whyle the starres] Perhaps a parody on Virgil : 
 
 " Dum juga montis aper, fluvios dum piscis amabit," etc. — Ec. 5, v. 76. 
 
 Page 62, v. 18. knocked breade] Perhaps a pun on cocket bread, a fine 
 quality. 
 
 Page 68, v. 1. But ichat a monster] etc. In the Kalender of Shepardes 
 there is a passage (Cap. xlvii.), " Of an assaute agaynst a SnayleP (See 
 Censura Lit., Vol. I. p. 134.) The snail does the boasting. In King Cam- 
 Uses (Hawkins's Origin, Vol. I. p. 261), the Vice Ambidexter "is ap- 
 pointed to fight against a snail." According to Mother Goose, the same 
 redoubtable creature was more than a match for four-and-twenty tailors. 
 
 v. 15. good ale in y e cornes] So Skelton, Elynour Rummyng, v. 378. 
 " New ale in cornes. Ceruisia cum recrementis." — Baret's Alvearie, in 
 v. Ale. Mr. Dyce's note. 
 
 Page 69, v. 5. brede oute of a bottell byte] As nursing children. 
 
 v. 15. haue fet me an errande at Rome] i. e. have gone on an errand to 
 Rome. 
 
 Page 73, v. 15.. the mayster deuyll as ragged as a colte] Ragged is — 
 rough, fierce. We have a proverb that " a ragged colt makes a good horse." 
 It is a common epithet of the devil. 
 
 " Help, the raggyd dwylle, we drowne ! " — Towneley Mysteries, p. 65. 
 
 " What, ragyd the dwylle of helle, alys you so to cry % " — T. M. p. 62. 
 Ragman has perhaps some connection with this word. 
 
 Page 75, v. 25. hankyn boby] An old English dance. Halfe Hannikin 
 
NOTES. 267 
 
 is given as " a favorite old Tune," No. VI. Chappell's National English 
 Airs. Compare Skelton's Ware the Hauke, v. 117, and note. 
 
 v. 28. Candelmasse daye] etc. Candlemas day is February 2. The 
 same odd connection of dates occurs in Skelton, Vol. I. p. 17, v. 69. 
 " "Wry ten at Croydon by Crowland in the Clay, 
 On Candelmas euyn, the Kalendas of May." 
 
 Page 76, v. 13. the better seuen yeares agone] means, of course, better 
 than for seven years past. Perhaps we should read better the^ — the for — 
 than. 
 
 v. 18. kepeye warme] i. e. continue to be angry. 
 
 Page 79, v. 12. tyrle on the berye] An old English song. 
 
 " Heigh derie derie, 
 Trill on the berie." — Roister Doister, p. 31. 
 " With huffa galand, synge tyrll on the bery." 
 
 Four Elements (Per. Soc), p. 17. 
 
 v. 13. It would be useless to attempt any particular explanation of 
 the next three pages. Mr. Collier thinks that the humor may have 
 been in local and personal applications, and it undoubtedly was so, 
 as far as the passage ever had any meaning. An audience of those days 
 had a great fondness for fluent nonsense, especially when their ears were 
 tickled with alliteration. Yngnoraunce in the Four Elements amuses his 
 hearers with a medley of old songs, and Haphazard in Apius and Virginia 
 with a string of proverbs. Indeed, the Vice was much more addicted to 
 boasting of his accomplishments, and displaying his excessive animal 
 spirits, than to expressing his sentiments in a connected and intelligible 
 way. The alliterative names so common in old poetry are still retained 
 in the lower drama, and a " rhapsody of words " continues to afford hearty 
 entertainment under the form of what is called an Ethiopian melody. 
 
 The charm contains, with some obvious Scriptural and classical allusions 
 and a liberal sprinkling of absurdity, many references now utterly inex- 
 plicable. 
 
 Page 80, v. 9. It is to to mother the pastyme and good chere] So p. 147, 
 v. 17, "To gredie (daughter) tootoo gredie is," and p. 218, v. 13, "But 
 rashe Eteocles (presuming tootoo much uppon their flight "). In 1844, Mr. 
 Halliwell printed, in Vol. I. Shake. Soc. Papers, some observations on the 
 correct punctuation of the line in Hamlet, — 
 
 " O that this too too solid flesh would melt." 
 A reply was made in the second volume of the same, and Mr. Halliwell 
 followed with a long note in the Shake. Soc. reprint of Wit and Wisdom. 
 
268 NOTES. 
 
 There is no doubt that too-too was used (as above) by our older writers, 
 and sometimes by Shakespeare himself, as one word ; but it seems to the 
 writer of this note that Mr. Halliwell is quite in the wrong to conclude 
 such a use in the line of Hamlet. The quarto has too much, and each of 
 the first four folios that have been consulted for this note has too too with- 
 out any hyphen. Too-too is weak, and not at all expressive of the intensity 
 of Hamlet's feelings. Because there is such a word as too-too, it by no 
 means follows that Shakespeare could not write too, too. At any rate, in 
 Hamlet, to quote a proverb from one of Mr. Halliwell's authorities, " Too- 
 too will in two." 
 
 Page 81, v. 9. Tyttyfylles] Tutivillus is the name of a fiend in one of 
 the Towneley Mysteries, and the word frequently occurs with the meaning 
 of low and depraved fellow, — a navovpyos. Mr. Douce derives it from 
 titivillitium. Mr. Collier prefers totus vilis, concerning which Mr. Dyce 
 remarks (Skelton, II. 285), — "When he objected to the derivation of the 
 word from titivillitium, he was probably not aware that some critics (wrong- 
 ly) ' totivillitium volunt, quasi totum vile : ' see Gronovius's note on the 
 Casina of Plautus, ii. 5, 39. ed. Var." Tryfullers (triflers) has been alter- 
 ed from fry fullers, which the alliteration shows to be a misprint. 
 
 Page 82, v. 20. dymminges dale] Compare Skelton's Why come ye nat 
 to Courte? v. 798: — 
 
 " To a straunge iurisdictyon, 
 Called Dymingis Dale, 
 Farre byyonde Portyngale." 
 
 Page 84, v. 1. It is good to set a candell before the deuyll] " Holding a 
 candle to the Devil is assisting in a bad cause, an evil matter." — Ray, p. 55. 
 v. 6. yll might she care] should evidently be — yll might she fare. 
 
 Page 91, v. 1. Deus hie] God be here! the form of benediction on 
 entering a house. Cf. Cant. Tales (Per. Soc), v. 7352. 
 
 Page 94, v. 13. bulles under lede] i. e. with a leaden seal. 
 " Non auro, non argento sacra Bulla refulget, 
 Insignit chartas Plumbea forma sacras." — Ducange in v. Bulla, 
 where a full account of all the varieties of bulls will be found. 
 
 v. 19. The passage as far as v. 29, p. 95, is taken, with a few verbal 
 alterations, from the beginning of the Pardoner's Tale (Cant. Tales, ed. 
 Tyrwhitt), vv. 12269-12311. The ingenious device, p. 97, vv. 5-14, is 
 from the same, vv. 12312-12321. 
 

 NOTES. 269 
 
 Page 96, v. 4. The great too of the holy trynyte] Compare the following 
 passage in Bale's Kynge Johan (Cam. Soc.), p. 47 : — 
 
 " Sytt doAvne on yowr kneys, and ye shall have absolucion 
 A pena et culpa, with a thowsand dayes of pardon. 
 Here ys fyrst a bone of the blyssyd trynyte, 
 A dram of the tord of swete seynt Barnabe. 
 Here ys a fedder of good seynt Myhelles wyng, 
 A toth of seynt Twyde, a pece of Davyds harpe stryng, 
 The good blood of Haylys, and owr blyssyd ladys mylke ; 
 A lowse of seynt Frauncis in this same crymsen sylke. 
 A scabbe of seynt Job, a nayle of Adams too, 
 A maggot of Moyses, with a fart of saynt Fandigo. 
 Here is a fygge leafe and a grape of Noes vyneyearde, 
 A bede of saynt Blythe, with the bracelet of a berewarde. 
 The devyll that was hatcht in maistre Johan Shomes bote, 
 That the tree of Jesse did plucke up by the roote. 
 Here ys the lachett of swett seynt Thomas shewe, 
 A rybbe of seynt Rabart, with the huckyll bone of a Jewe. 
 Here ys a joynt of Darvell Gathyron, 
 Besydes other bonys and relyckes many one." 
 
 The great toe and the jaw-bone were thought good enough hits to be 
 used a second time, in the Four Ps. 
 
 v. 10. Her bongrace which she ware with her french hode] " The French 
 hood was the close coif, fashionable among ladies at this period ; the bon- 
 grace was a frontlet attached to the hood, and standing up round the 
 forehead ; as may be particularly seen in the portraits of Queen Anne 
 Bullen." — Fairholt's note in v. Chaucer's Pardoner has " oure ladies veil." 
 
 v. 11. for sonne bornynge] i. e. against sun-burning. 
 
 v. 12. Women with chylde] The monks had many relics to preserve 
 and assist women in child-birth, such as " Mare Magdalens girdell," " the 
 lace of oure Lady smok," &c. See Creed of Piers Ploughman (ed. 
 Wright), v. 155 and note. 
 
 v. 18. Of all helowes the blessyd law bone] All helowes is — all saints. 
 Bones were naturally the most common relics, except, perhaps, frag- 
 ments of the true cross. In one of the inventories in Mr. Wright's 
 Letters relating to the Suppression of Monasteries, we have bones of seven- 
 teen saints, beginning with Mary Magdalene, and at another place, " divers 
 skulles for the hed ache." The " coles that Saint Laurence was tosted 
 withall," and " Malkows ere that Peter stroke of," mav be added. 
 
 23 
 
NOTES. 
 
 Page 113, v. 8. tyll sone] Mr. Eairholt has altered sone to — none, 
 which seems hardly necessary. 
 
 Page 116, v. 3. in the. xx. devyll waye] A very common expression. 
 " In the twenty deuyll way, Au nom du grant diableP — Palsgrave, ap. Dyce. 
 Compare, — 
 
 " Synagot seyde Be godys wayes 
 He wyll holde that he says." 
 
 Ritson's Met. Rom. Le Bone Florence of Rome, v. 1206. 
 
 Page 117, v. 8. A masse Sr dirige] Dirige is the old form of dirge. 
 
 " Dtrtge, ofFyce for dedemen' (dyrge, p.) " Note. " The office for the 
 dead received the name of Dyryge, or dirge from the Antiphon with 
 which the first nocturne in the mattens commenced, taken from Psalm 
 5, v. 8, ' Dirige, Domine Deus mens, in conspectu tuo viam meam? The 
 name is retained in the Primer set forth in English by injunction from 
 Henry VIII. in 1546." See the interesting note in v. Dyryge, in Mr. Way's 
 excellent edition of Prompt. Parvul. (Cam. Soc). There are strange 
 statements in the dictionaries concerning the derivation of this word. 
 
 Page 122, v. 4. siuete eares] See note in v. 24, p. 16. 
 
 v. 11. Mary that wolde I se quod blynde hew] A similar proverb is still 
 current. Ray gives, " That would I fain see, said blind George of Hol- 
 lowee." — p. 209, ed. 1768. 
 
 Page 124, v. 15. ragman rolles] The collection of deeds in which the 
 Scottish nobihty and gentry were compelled to subscribe allegiance to 
 Edward I. of England, in 1296, was known by the name of Ragman's 
 Roll. Hence the word came to be applied to lists or rolls generally. 
 Rigmarole is probably derived from this expression. There was an ancient 
 game called ragman, and the word is once applied to the Devil. The best 
 account of the word is in Halliwell's Diet. 
 
 Page 128, v. 7. Ihaue more tow on my dystajfe] This proverb occurs in 
 a mutilated form in Towneley Myst., p. 108 : — 
 
 " Ihav tow on my rok, more than ever I had." 
 
 Page 137, v. 1. The lines marked with initial commas are so distin- 
 guished to call the attention to some notable sentiment or reflection. 
 
 v. 20. PJiocides lande,] Phocis. The early poets are in the habit of 
 using the genitive of classical proper names, or the genitive slightly 
 altered, for the nominative. Thus Skelton writes Zenophontes for Xeno- 
 phon, Eneidos for Eneis, &c. 
 
 Page 151. v. 1. It standeth not with the honor of your state] etc. Compare 
 Laertes's speech to Ophelia : — 
 
NOTES. 
 
 271 
 
 " Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain," &c. 
 
 Hamlet, Act I. Sc. 3. 
 Page 1 70, v. 5. „ Desire of rule] etc. The famous sentiment which, 
 Cicero says, was continually in Caesar's mouth : — 
 
 eXnep yap aducelv xph rvpavvlbos 7repi 
 koXXio-tov ddiKelv. — Eurip. Phozn. v. 534. 
 
 Page 185, v. 1. Camuassado] Camisado. "It is a sudden assault, 
 wherein the Souldiers doe were shirts ouer their armours, to know their 
 owne company from the enemy, least they should in the darke kill of 
 their owne company in stead of the enemy ; or when they take their ene- 
 mies in their beds and their shirts, for it commeth of the Spanish Camiga, 
 i. e. a shirt." — Minsheu, Diet. Etym. 
 
 Page 192, v. 1. Thou trustie guide] The reader will remember Milton's 
 imitation of this passage at the beginning of Samson Agonistes, and 
 Wordsworth's beautiful reminiscence of both poets. 
 
 Page 214, 1. 1. foure] should evidently be three. 
 
 Page 257, v. 11. And of those fewe, yet one of those am I:] It will be 
 pardoned, if the reader's attention is called to the beauty of this reply, 
 equally just to the devotion of Antigone and pathetic from the mouth 
 of the miserable but grateful (Edipus. This line is Gascoigne's, and is 
 the only improvement upon Euripides in the play. 
 
 The remaining illustrations have been thrown into the form of a Glos- 
 sary. Familiar archaisms and corrupted orthography are often left without 
 explanation. 
 
dBlossarp. 
 
 23* 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 The numerals refer to the pages where the words occur. 
 
 a vise you, 35. consider well 
 a voyde, 29, 73, begone, decamp 
 
 abode, 174, stay, delay 
 
 abye, 12, pay for, take the consequen- 
 ces 
 
 accompt, 234, recount 
 
 a downe, 153, down 
 
 affectes, 152, affections. 16G, passions 
 
 ale in y e comes, n. in v. 15, p. 68 
 
 algatys, 127, at all events 
 
 all and some, 94, every one. " Tout ; bandurion, 133, bandores. The ban- 
 entierementP — Palsgrave, ap. Dyce j dore, as well as the cittern, was an 
 
 allarme, 240, to arms, alarm. " Showt- 1 instrument similar to the guitar 
 ing as he could, crying aVarme, baryng him selfe in hand, 48. To bear 
 
 B, 
 
 bable, 58, a bauble, a short stick hav- 
 ing a head ornamented with an ass's 
 ears. To " were a bable " is — to 
 be a professional fool 
 
 backster, 81, baker 
 
 Holland, ap. 
 
 Elee- 
 
 appall, 74, make pale, cause to decay 
 " And his honor appall." — Skel- 
 ton, Why come ye not to Courte? 
 v. 22 
 
 appose, 67, make trial of 
 
 arayed, 15, unpleasantly circumstanced 
 
 as, for that, 141, w. 9, 11. 144. v. 3, &c. 
 
 aslake, 57, abate 
 
 assayes, at all, 221. " At all assayes, 
 En tous poynts, or a tons poyntsP 
 — Palsgrave, ap. Dyce 
 
 assoyled, 105, absolved 
 
 at towns, at tonce, 20, 40, at once 
 
 auaile, 209, 212, advantage 
 
 in hand is to persuade, make believe, 
 or to accuse. See Dyce's Skelton, 
 n. in v. 357, p. 241, Vol. II. 
 
 bate, 80, abate, " take down " 
 
 help help citizens." 
 Richardson 
 all helowes, 96, all saints 
 almoys dede, 84, alms deed, jiacc-i 
 
 mosyna, almosine, almosie, al- ' battailes, 150, v. 5, here battalions 
 mose, almes, arms. — Tooke jbaynes, 233, baths 
 
 alonely, 159, 163, all onely, 235, only, be, 70, 95, been 
 
 alone jbeare the buckler, 170, assume aims 
 
 apaye, 172, satisfy (beates, 170, abates 
 
 become, 209, 225, go, gone, became, 
 
 40, went 
 bere me a souse, 21, get a blow from 
 
 me 
 bestad, 161, 186, circumstanced 
 betokeneth, 197, betoken. The plural 
 in eth is common ; so understandeth 
 in the line above 
 bewray, 142, discover or betray 
 biased, 173, blazoned 
 blynne, 81, 86, cease 
 bolne, 228, swelled 
 bongrace, n. in v. 10, p. 96 
 boure, 158, bowre, 171, habitation 
 
276 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 brallynge, 85, brawling, shortened 
 from brabble, as scrallynge from 
 scrabble. " With no brodels bratte" 
 — Towne. Mys., p. 184. 
 
 brauely, 134, elegantly ■ 
 
 breake up, 195, cut up 
 
 breched in a brake, 32, broken with a 
 breach 
 
 brennyng, 103, 118, burning 
 
 briggen yrons, n. in v. 2, p. 60 
 
 Bromemycham, 81, Bromidgham, 
 Birmingham 
 
 brose, 77, bruise 
 
 brunt, 196, burnt 
 
 brute, 151, bruit, report 
 
 busenesse, 67, busines, 44, trouble 
 
 bydes, 181, endures 
 
 bytter, 81, bittern 
 
 Oalice, 68, Calais 
 
 Calycow, 45, Calicut., Calcutta 
 
 eamuassado, n. in v. 1, p. 185 
 
 carefully, 226, distressfully, as careful, 
 distressful, passim 
 
 carke, 116, care 
 
 cast, 9, 14, 31, trick. 71, addressed. 
 74, to consider 
 
 chrystente, 58, for Christendom, as 
 Chrystendome, 38, for Cliristianity 
 
 churles, 43, churlish 
 
 clowtes, 73, blows 
 
 clyped, 92, called 
 
 clytteringe, 82. " I clytter, I make 
 noyse as harnesse or peuter dysshes 
 or any suche lyke thynges-." — Pals- 
 grave, ap. Halliwell 
 
 oockes, 30, a corruption of the geni- 
 tive of the sacred name 
 
 cockneys, 61, spoiled children, or ef- 
 feminate persons. Interesting re- 
 marks on this curious word will 
 be found in Way's Prompt. Parv., 
 and Halli well's Diet. 
 
 colacyon, 93, discourse 
 
 come of, 78, come on 
 
 commoditie, 165, 206, advantage 
 
 concertacion, 67, combat 
 
 condicion, 1 1 , nature, temper, or dispo- 
 sition 
 
 confusion, 87, being put to shame 
 
 conge, 210, leave 
 congruent, 7, suitable 
 connynge, 92, knowledge 
 conueiaunce, 7, device, eonuays, 170, 
 
 devises 
 corasiue, 31, corosiue, 170, corrosive: 
 
 a word spelt seven different ways 
 costerds, 14, apples, costarde, 122, 
 
 head 
 cotsolde, lyons on, n. in v. 17, p. 58 
 cowch quaile, n. in v. 4, p. 54 
 crake, 67, 68, 87, boast 
 crye creke, n. in v. 19, p. 57 
 cunger, 9, counger, 37, conjure, in the 
 
 sense of compel, master, subdue (?) 
 cursed, 9, 12, ill-tempered, curst, 104, 
 
 accursed. There is a play on the 
 
 two meanings, p. 79, v. 2. 
 cyndring, 169, incinerating 
 cythren, 133, citterns 
 
 D 
 
 dame, 60, 167, dam, mother 
 
 dan, 229, a corrupted abbreviation of 
 Dominus, Sir 
 
 daw, 109, fool 
 
 debate, 9, quarrel. 68, 71, abate 
 
 decayes, 151, destroys, decaye, 157. 
 173, destruction 
 
 decerned of, 11, cheated of 
 
 defende, 63, 188, forbid 
 
 dell, pan. euery dell, 11,15, every bit. 
 neuer a dell, 113, 125, not a bit 
 
 depraue, 87, often, vilify ; here, per- 
 haps, degrade 
 
 deuine, 188, diviner 
 
 Deus hie, n. in v. 1, p. 91 
 
 devyll, in the xx. devyll waye, n. in 
 v. 3. p. 116 
 
 dirige, n. in v. 8, p. 117 
 
 disdayning, 143, scornful 
 
 disease, 160, displace, annoy 
 
 diuine, 132, divining 
 
 do, 57, 76, done, dothe, 88, do. to done, 
 186, to doen, 194, to do. do,195, does. 
 Doon oon, 11, donned, do of, 36, 
 doff, do out, 195, put out. do the 
 to wyt, 114, make thee to know 
 
 docke, 82, fundament 
 
 dole, 159, 181, grief 
 
 doome, 166, 167, judgment, decree 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 277 
 
 drawes, 212, draws on, advances 
 
 dread, 256, dreaded 
 
 drery, 211, sorrowful 
 
 dreuyll, 114, a low fellow. " a diyuyl 
 
 or a drudge : he is a very dryuell, 
 
 sterquilinium," n. in v. dryuylle, 
 
 Prompt. Parvul. 
 dyde, 30, deed, fact 
 dyghte, 66, 118, prepared 
 dyghter of datys, 79, either an inditer 
 
 of writings, or a dresser of dates 
 dyniminges dale, n. in v. 20, p. 82 
 dynge, 80, beat 
 
 E. 
 
 eftsones, 146, immediately, eftesoones, 
 
 210, again 
 egoteles, 125, apparently a misprint 
 
 for egetoles, edge-tools 
 eke, 151, also 
 eldyth, 71, aileth 
 elfe, 128, mischievous fellow, eluyshe, 
 
 57, mischievous 
 embowde, 143, arched 
 enpalde, 150, encircled 
 ensewes, 169, results to. ensue, 251, 
 
 follow in 
 euerychone, 8, 31, every one 
 euyll, 83, ill. with a foule euyll, 114, 
 
 with an euyll happe, 121, with a 
 
 curse to you 
 exhibition, 117, allowance of money 
 eyne, 139, eyen, 148, eyes 
 
 face, 15, face out or braze out. See 
 Dyce's Skelton, Vol. II. p. 216 
 
 facte, 138, 243, deed 
 
 faculties, 47, sciences, or learned pro- 
 fessions 
 
 feeres, 164, 230, fellows, mates 
 
 fet, 16, 31, fete, 42, fetch, fet, 69, 
 fetched 
 
 fine, 131, end 
 
 fite, 12, division of a song, canto 
 
 flouring, flo wring, 138, 215, 230, 
 flourishing 
 
 fond, 151, 152, foolish, fondnesse, 260, 
 
 force, 33, matter, it forseth, 105, it 
 
 matters 
 fordoe, 250, undo, prevent 
 foredrad, 131, feared before hand 
 forewasted, 174, utterly wasted 
 forworne, 224, worn out 
 fraight, 137, fraught 
 fume, 70, fumishenes, 57, swelling, 
 
 vaporing passion 
 furburer, 80, furbisher 
 fustye, 86, mouldy 
 fyle, 165, smooth. " file the tongue ,; is 
 
 a common expression 
 
 G. 
 
 galde, to, 211, to gall 
 
 galiard, 13, a lively dance 
 
 gan, 163, 236, began 
 
 geare, gere, 11, 61, dress. 15, 21, thing 
 
 or matter 
 gest, 105, to "romance" in the sense 
 
 of tell a good stoiy 
 gingerlie, 12, delicate. " Gyngerly: A 
 
 pas menus." — Palsgrave, ap. Dyce 
 gise, gyse, guise, 11, 33, 42, way 
 glosing, 40, specious, to glose is to 
 
 talk speciously, flatter 
 god before, 9, 33, 126, God being my 
 
 helper 
 gone, 230, go 
 graft, 32, (in the sense of imp, which 
 
 is properly — graft,) rogue 
 gramercye, 62, 155, great thanks 
 gree, 196, gri. receyue in gree, take 
 
 kindly 
 Greekish, 197, Grecian 
 gren, 79, grin or sport 
 grestle, 68, a little pig. " Ah Sir, be 
 
 good to hir ; she is but a gristle." 
 
 Roister Doister, p. 20 
 griesly, 139, 155, terrible, fearful 
 guardon, 98, reward 
 gyrdeth, 86, squeezes 
 
 H. 
 
 habergyn, 57, habergeon, a breastplate 
 
 han is used for the infinitive and 
 
 present tense plural of have. At 
 
 p. 46, it is, perhaps, a misprint for 
 
278 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 handeling, 35, treatment 
 
 hange vppe, 43, gallows-bird 
 
 harborow, harbrough, 119, 163, shel- 
 ter, lodging 
 
 hardely, hardly, 109, 114, resolutely. 
 116, v. 4, with difficulty. 116, v. 5, 
 confidently. 126, rigidly 
 
 harnes, 53, armor 
 
 hartelye, 82, should probably be har- 
 teye 
 
 hath, 153, have 
 
 haue by, 42, be rewarded for. haue in, 
 53, bring in, i. e. here comes. 
 
 hent, 235, received 
 
 herault, 220, herald 
 
 here a waye, 20, this way or hereabout 
 
 hest, 136, 150, command 
 
 heys, 59, hedges 
 
 hight, 229, called: used without the 
 verb to be 
 
 hole, hoole, 59, 63, whole, for hole, in 
 all parts, altogether 
 
 honesty, 127, reputation, credit 
 
 hooke, 33, 44, rogue, a common term 
 of reproach. " Hokes vnhappyP 
 Skel ton's Magnyfycence, v. 1390 
 
 hugie, 145, 149, huge 
 
 I. 
 
 I is often repeated. 33, 1 haue byn 
 made sobre and tame /now 
 
 ieopard, 16, risk, ieopard a ioynt, 16, 
 69, risk a limb 
 
 iet, 86, strut 
 
 impe, 156, offspring 
 
 intellimente, 78, meaning 
 
 joll, 42, jolt, bump 
 
 ioyste, 81, joint 
 
 irked, 163, wearied 
 
 Ish, 122, I shall 
 
 Iys, 122, Gis, a corruption of Jesus 
 
 K. 
 
 kepe the heade, 71, to front 
 kind, 152, nature 
 
 knappe, 79, a knock (knap-knees are 
 knock-knees), knappeth, 85, hits 
 knen, 85, knees 
 
 knocked breade, n. in v. 18, p. 62 
 kyrie, 31, a word from the church 
 
 service. She would perform an 
 evening service for him, — give 
 him a lecture 
 
 lauerocke, 82, lark 
 
 leasing, 28, lying 
 
 lese, 9, lesse, 45, lose 
 
 let, 11, ceasing. 21, 113, hinder, fre- 
 quently like Ger. lassen. 194, let 
 kill, cause to be killed 
 
 leude, lewde, (originally misled,) 38, 
 113, ignorant, or, 38, bad, generally 
 
 leuer, 109, rather 
 
 list, liste, lyst, lyste, lust, 169, 201, 
 197, 18, 152, desire, desires. 143, at 
 luste, at pleasure 
 
 looke, 42, look at 
 
 lose, 77, destroy, lore, 70, lost 
 
 lurche, 125, trick, cheat 
 
 lurden, 29, clown or sluggard 
 
 lustlesse, 157 , pleasureless 
 
 lyberall, 37, too free 
 
 lybertye, 126, precincts of authority 
 
 lyeth gretylie me a pon, 35, much con- 
 cerns me 
 
 lymytacyon, 108, properly the district 
 within which a friar is allowed to 
 beg ; here, on 1. is a begging 
 
 lyne, 12, cease 
 
 M. 
 
 maistries, maisteris, maysteris, miste- 
 ris, maistris, 13, 26, 33, 34, 44, mis- 
 tress 
 
 maker, 7, poet. The analogy of Gr. 
 7roir}Trjs and Ang. Sax. scop is fa- 
 miliar to scholars, making, 7, po- 
 etical composition 
 
 marchent, 36, used like our chap 
 
 martylmas, 82, Martinmas 
 
 maystries, 73, skill or superiority 
 
 mede, 39, 103, reward 
 
 mell, 126, to meddle, make a disturb- 
 ance 
 
 mome, 31, fool 
 
 moull, 9, (?) the moull, possibly a 
 misprint for them all 
 
 mouyles, 80, probably a misprint for 
 monyles 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 279 
 
 mowe, 82, make faces 
 
 muse, 256, musing 
 
 my simithe, 11, we seemeih 
 
 N-. 
 
 nard, 41, ne hard, neither heard 
 
 nay, 155, never 
 
 ne, 171, 179, nor, not. nill, will not. 
 
 n'am, am not, &c. ne .... ne, 
 
 neither .... nor 
 nedes, 118, of necessity 
 nere, 20, nearer 
 nod, 24, noddy, fool 
 nons, 11, 61, for the nons, for the 
 
 occasion. Sir F. Madden (Glos. to 
 
 Syr Gawayne) concludes in favor 
 
 of the derivation from the Sax. 
 
 for than anes 
 nowne, 21, my nowne, mine own; so, 
 
 at towns, &c. 
 nyse, 125, foolish 
 
 0. 
 
 on. 84, v. 9, of. on sleepe, 256, asleep 
 
 one, 217, on 
 
 oone, 12, one 
 
 or, 113, before 
 
 oration, 67, prayer 
 
 other, 66, 69, either 
 
 ouerpining, 233, grieving too much 
 
 out and alas, 234, an exclamation of 
 
 sorrow and disappointment 
 out of hand, 142, 187, immediately 
 outraging, 141, being outrageous 
 
 pace, 26. a great pace, with great speed 
 paine, 189, pains 
 paisse, 217, push or blow 
 paled, 254, pallid 
 palet, 54, pate, crown 
 parell, 83, peril 
 parturbest, 108, disturbest 
 paruert, 92, perverse 
 passe, 21, surpass 
 pastauce, 6, pastime 
 peere, 152, 168, an exalted person 
 pele, 81. "peal, a batch of bread. 
 Devon." — Halliwell 
 
 percace, parcase, 5, 7, 18, 45, per- 
 chance 
 
 perforce to, 249, in spite of 
 
 peuysshe, 56, foolish 
 
 pfit, 46, parfit, perfect 
 
 pheere, 137, 173, companion, mate 
 
 Phocides, n. in v. 20, p. 137 
 
 pigesnie, n. in v. 22, p. 43 
 
 pike and walke, 20, cut and run 
 
 poll, 91, cheat 
 
 poppagaye, 13, appears to he only 
 parrot, although used sometimes 
 as if distinct. See Malone's Shake., 
 XVI. 211 
 
 posting, 260, speeding 
 
 poynt, 24, 28, particular, no poynt, 
 not at all 
 
 practise, 259, artifice, trickery 
 
 prankith, 13, adorns, to prank is to 
 trick or dress up. pranke, 38, trick 
 
 prease, 62, press or crowd 
 
 presently, 225, at present 
 
 prest, 60, 74, 80, ready, prepared 
 
 prestholde, 126, priesthood 
 
 pricking, 10, bounding, like a spurred 
 horse 
 
 prickt, 167, decorated 
 
 proces, 167, story 
 
 propre, 110, belonging exclusively to, 
 appropriate 
 
 prouoke, 59, challenge 
 
 pryue, 30, preeve, prove 
 
 pums, 63 (?) Qu. a misprint for puss ? 
 
 purge, 60, clean 
 
 pyghte, 62, arranged 
 
 Q- 
 
 qd, 14, quod, quoth, qd a, 114, quoth he 
 queynt, 165, artful, subtle, prudent 
 quite, 215, release 
 
 E, 
 
 rage, 22, 48, be mad 
 
 ragged, as a colte, n. in v. 15, p. 73 
 
 ragman, rolles, n. in v. 15, p. 124 
 
 rate, 80, 105, way, fashion 
 
 raye, 183, array 
 
 reade, 138, presage 
 
 reaue, 131, 144, take away 
 
 recorde, 225, recollect 
 
280 
 
 GLOSSARY. 
 
 regard, 154, survey 
 
 reigne, 171, kingdom 
 
 remorse, 220, usually pity in the old 
 writers 
 
 renoumed, 135, renowned, renoume, 
 151, renown 
 
 repayre, 151, commonly place of re- 
 sort, here the resorting of some, or 
 being visited by some 
 
 rest, in, 63, 70, 121, at peace, quiet 
 
 retrybucyon, 106, reward 
 
 rode, 44, cross 
 
 romeringe, 23, roaring, " he ranne 
 apone hir romyand, as he hadd 
 bene wodd." — Halliwell 
 
 route, 60, company 
 
 rufflers, 14, 53, swaggerers, bullies, ruf- 
 fled, 60, swaggered, ruffle, 64, swing 
 
 sallet, 54, helmet 
 
 scabbed, 58, vile, shabby 
 
 scrallynge, 85, scraping ivith the nails 
 
 scuse, 235, excuse 
 
 see, 76, tueri, protect. " save and see " 
 is a common phrase 
 
 seke, 84, sick : there is a pun 
 
 selde, 152, seldom 
 
 sentence, 31, opinion 
 
 shamefast, 215, modest 
 
 shent, 74, disgraced 
 
 shone, 36, shoes 
 
 shrew, 30, 37, 122, curse. A shrew is 
 an ill-tempered or "cursed" per- 
 son, cf. p. 9, v. 20. shrewd, 32, is 
 sharp or severe, shrewde, 59, is 
 bad 
 
 shriching, 234, shrieking, shriched, 
 239, shrieked 
 
 silly, 224, artless 
 
 sith, syth, 7, 42, 92, 106, since, both of 
 connection of thought and of time 
 
 sithens, 163, afterwards 
 
 sitteth, 253, fitteth, as perhaps it 
 should be read 
 
 skride, 226, descried 
 
 slowches, 73, 122, lazy lubbers, good- 
 for-nothings 
 
 slydder, 105, slippery 
 
 solybubbe, 79, sillabub 
 
 sory, 244, sorroivfd, afflicted 
 
 souse, 21, a blow, bere me a souse is 
 
 get a blow from me 
 splaide, 169, displayed 
 sprente, 82, sprinkled 
 sprites, 169, 190, spirits 
 spyll, 69, 77, destroy 
 stale, 62, frightened, to look stale is 
 
 — to show the mouldy paleness 
 
 of a frightened coward 
 standeth with, 151, is consistent with 
 stare, 11, swagger. " swear and stare " 
 
 is a phrase much used 
 stillpipes, 231 (?) 
 strayth, 102, straightway 
 substancyall, 8, 35, serious 
 surceasse, 215, cease 
 swerued, 76, turned aside, differed 
 swete eares, n. in v. 4, p. 122 
 swetynge, 74, a very common term 
 
 of endearment 
 syr, 15, v. 8, anciently addressed, as 
 
 well as sirrah, to both women and 
 
 men 
 syrray, 59, 75, surah 
 syth, 156, times 
 
 talter, 85 (?) 
 
 tapper, 81, inn-keeper 
 
 tauerners, 81, inn-keepers 
 
 teinte, 237, taint or touch, "they tainted 
 eche other on y e helmes," &c. — 
 Berner's Froissart, ap. Eichard- 
 son in v. 
 
 than, 92, then, then, 83, than 
 
 the, often united with the succeeding 
 word, as thunbridled, tharmie, &c, 
 140, 146, 228 
 
 the, 16, v. 13, they. 124, v. 19, 113, 
 v. 15, thee 
 
 thee, 20, v. 10, thy, an existing pro- 
 vincialism 
 
 thee, 25, 36, 38, so mote I thee, so may 
 I thrive 
 
 this, 36, thus 
 
 this, 81, these 
 
 thralls, 153, slaves, servants 
 
 thristeth, 151, thirsteth 
 
 thrustene, 63, thirteen 
 
 thus, 65, this 
 
 thylke, 92, that same 
 
GLOSSARY. 
 
 281 
 
 tickle, 259, unsteady, inconstant 
 
 toppe and tayle, 71, head and tail 
 
 to rent, 65, rend in. pieces; to is aug- 
 mentative 
 
 to to, 79, 80, 147, 218, n. in v. 9, p. 80 
 
 to torne, 81, torn to pieces 
 
 touche, 85, 122, trick 
 
 tousing, 34, pulling 
 
 tratourye, 88, treason 
 
 trayne, 152, 259, snare, deceit, traynde, 
 158, ensnared 
 
 trotte, 72, 84, old ivoman 
 
 trowbler, 79 (?) 
 
 trumpers, 81, liars, cheats 
 
 trym, 82, neatly 
 
 tyncke, 80, tinkle 
 
 tyttyfylles, n. in v. 9, p. 81 
 
 V. 
 
 vade, 81, depart 
 
 venteth, 85, emits an odor 
 
 ver, vere, 229, 44, spring 
 
 verament, 6, 78, truly 
 
 vnhappy, 9, 69, mischievous, malicious. 
 
 " Vnhappy of maners maluays. n — 
 
 Palsgrave, ap. Dyce 
 vprighte, 80, straight 
 vre, 47, 204, use 
 
 W. 
 
 wage, 9, wag, rogue 
 
 wage pastie, n. in v. 17, p. 34 
 
 walke thy cote, n. in v. 12, p. 30 
 
 warde, 84, keeping 
 
 wardelith, 13, evidently a misprint 
 for — warbelith. " Warble, to wrig- 
 gle" — Jamieson, Et. Diet. 
 
 waymenting, 157, lamenting 
 
 wealth, 205, weal 
 wede, 36, clothing 
 welaway, 179, 244, an interjection of 
 
 sorrow. An. Sax. wa-la-wa, ivo- 
 
 lo-wo 
 werye, 68, worry : the same word as 
 
 warray or werrey, to attack hostilely. 
 
 — Richardson 
 what, 60, why 
 where, 139, 167, whereas, where as, 
 
 138, 230, where, whereby, 164, 
 
 ivherefore 
 whether, 11, 30, whither 
 wine, 33, ween 
 witsafe, 117, vouchsafe 
 wood, 18, mad 
 wortes, 84, herbs or vegetables 
 wot, 11, know 
 wrekefull, 159, revengeful 
 wretche, 235, for xoretched, as perhaps 
 
 it should stand 
 wrothe, 76, anger 
 wylfull, 92, 111, voluntary 
 wype, 79, hit 
 wyst, 15, west, 31, knew, wot, 38, 
 
 wat, 41, wytte, 94, witte, 220, know. 
 
 wote, 103, knows 
 
 y, the old prefix to the perfect par- 
 ticiple from A. S. ge, as y coucht, 
 163, couched, y fraught, 237, filled, 
 ydone, 240, done 
 ye, 38, yes, 39, iye, 46, eye, eyes 
 yerewhyles, 86, erewhile 
 yld, 14, yield, god yld it you, 
 
 reward you for it 
 y l for that, y u for you, &c, passim 
 ywys, I wis, 57, 73, 43, certainly 
 
 God 
 
 24 
 

 
3Int)Cjc< 
 
INDEX 
 
 TO THE NOTES, TO PROVERBS, AND REMARKABLE 
 EXPRESSIONS. 
 
 a chylde is better vnborne then vntaughte, 83 
 
 ale in y e comes, 266, n. 
 
 a mendes made with a cople of Straus, 19 
 
 as denty and nice, as an halpeny worth of siluer spoons, 12 
 
 as iust as. iiii. pens to a grot, 41 
 
 as ragged as a colte, 266, n. 
 
 as tale a man as frier Tucke, 70 
 
 B. 
 
 backs ter of Balockburye, 81 
 
 beate the knaues as flatte as a conger, 67 
 
 bere that wyth Beuis came, 81 
 
 bongrace with french hode, 269, n. 
 
 brede oute of a bottell byte, 266, n. 
 
 briggen yrons, 266, sr. 
 
 buklers, at the, 263, n. 
 
 bulles under lede, 268, n. 
 
 burning in my left ere, 264, n. 
 
 butterfly e of Bromemycham, 81 
 
 by the amies of Robyn hood, 15 
 
 by thes. x. bons, 264, n. 
 
 bytter boughte at Buckyngame. 81 
 
286 INDEX. 
 
 camuassado, 271, n. 
 
 Candelmasse daye, the calenders of maye, 267, n. 
 
 cokes precious potstike, 263, n. 
 
 coll the myllars mare, 82 
 
 come in company, 252 
 
 counters wherwith cherubyn, did cheristones count, 82 
 
 courte of conscience in cockoldshyres, 81 
 
 cowch quaile, 265, n. 
 
 cowherd of Comertowne, 81 
 
 crosses of fleshe bone and blod, 8 
 
 eiwe creke, 265, n. 
 
 I) 
 
 dere inoughe a flye, 115 
 
 Deus hie, 268, n. 
 
 devyll waye r in the. xx., 270, n. 
 
 dirige, 270, n. 
 
 diues Epulus, 101 
 
 dymminges dale, 268, n. 
 
 faryng, 264, n. 
 
 fet me an errande, 266, n. 
 
 flye as fast as a here in a cage, 39 
 
 for sonne borriynge,: 269, n. 
 
 gonstone, 265, n. 
 
 greate Gyb of hynxey, 82 
 
 II 
 
 hankyn boby, 266, sr. 
 
 hart in hose, 264, n., 17, 67 
 
 hart of gold, 62 
 
 hawke with which Assuerus kylde the wylde bore, 82 
 
 here standith vp vnder my cape, 1 6 
 
 
[NDEX. 287 
 
 iaw bone of all helowes, 269, n. 
 
 I haue made a verye good viage, 22 
 
 I haue more tow on my dystaffe tha I can well spyn, 270, n. 
 
 I may saye, I haue been at a fest, 12 
 
 iolye Jacke iumbler that iuggleth with a home, 81 
 
 Jorden, the blessinge that, to his Godsonne gaue, 82 
 
 Isaackes cow, 81 
 
 it is good to set a candell before the deuyll, 268, sr. 
 
 I wyll geue the somewhat for the gifte of a newe yeare, 7 1 
 
 I wyl make them thinke, the deuyle caryeth them to the wood, 60 
 
 kepe ye warme, 267, n. 
 knocked breade, 266, n. 
 
 London lottes, 82 
 
 lyons on cotsolde, 266, n. 
 
 mable of chartesey, 82 
 
 K, 
 
 L, 
 
 M. 
 
 mawde of thrutton, 82 
 
 moone is made of a grene chese, 46 
 
 Mother bryce of oxforde, 82 
 
 N. 
 
 nether nard ne sene, 264, n. 
 
 newe marketh heth, tyll she haue forgotte, 84 
 
 0. 
 
 our ladye boons (lady's bonds), 264, n. 
 
 P. 
 Phocides, 270, n. 
 
/ 
 
 288 
 
 pigesnie, 265. sr. 
 proctoure and his men, 59 
 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 '6 
 
 ragman rolles, 270, x. 
 
 saint George y e boroue, 264, n. 
 
 saint Loye, 264, n. 
 
 sallet, colloquy of equivoque on, 265, n. 
 
 saye the Croue is wliight, yf he be so comauded, 46 
 
 seit Mychaell, wing with which, dyd fly to his mout, 82 
 
 shynbon of saint Samuell, 82 
 
 snail, figures several times as a combatant, 266, n. 
 
 spere of spanysshe spylbery, 82 
 
 strike vp his sleues, 17 
 
 sum what the Catte winked Avhen here iye was out, 46 
 
 swete mete woll haue soure sauce among, 16 
 
 swet lookes, swete eares, 264, n. 
 
 tapper of tauycstocke, 81 
 
 that wolde I se quod bljnide hew, 270, N. 
 
 there was neuer Ape so lyke vnto an Ape. 30 
 
 thys is a sure carde, 87 
 
 too of the holy trynyte, 269, n. 
 
 to to, 267, N. 
 
 toAvre of tenysballes, 82 
 
 tyrle on the berye, 267, n. 
 
 tyttj-fylles, 268, n. 
 
 W.. 
 
 wage pastie, 264. n. 
 
 walke thy cote, 264, n. 
 
 Avhen a man hath most hast he spedith worst, 1 7 
 
 wood-cuts, with changeable names to suit characters, 263, n. 
 
 ye seeme a man to be borne in the vale. 62 
 
 v- 
 
IN THE INTRODUCTION 
 
 p. xxxi. 1. 2, for haud read nou 
 
 xxxiii. 1. 14, for c: affectation " read " affectations 
 
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