A 921,642 LYLY ENDIMION 822.8 L985en B17 ARTES LIBRARY 18.17) VERITAS SCIENTIA OF THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN CPLURIBUS UNUM TUEBOR SI-QUÆRIS-PENINSULAM-AMŒNAM. CIRCUMSPICE GIFT OF THE TILLEY FAMILY FROM THE LIBRARY OF MORRIS PALMER TILLEY 1876-1947 UNIV. OF VIRGINIA, A.B., 1897, A.M., 1899 UNIV. OF LEIPZIG, PH.D., 1902 MEMBER OF THE DEPT. OF ENGLISH UNIV. OF MICHIGAN, 1906–1947 PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH, 1918-1947 EDITOR OF THE DICTIONARY OF ELIZABETHAN PROVERBS : 1 ENDYMION B17 L THE MAN IN THE MOON Played before the Queen's Majesty at Greenwich on Candlemas Day, at Night, by the Children of Paul's BY JOHN LYLY, M.A. EDITED WITH NOTES, BIBLIOGRAPHY, AND A BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTION BY GEORGE P. BAKER Instructor in English, Harvard University NEW YORK HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 1894 Copyright, 1894, BY HENRY HOLT & Co. ROBERT DRUMmond, electrotyper and PRINTER, NEW YORK. Library F mamis P. Tilley 5·28·48 PREFACE. THIS edition of Lyly's Endymion has been pre- pared because, something more than a year ago, the editor felt the need of an inexpensive edition of some representative play of the court drama- tist which could be used by classes in the Eliza- bethan drama. The text was soon ready, but when the time came to write the introduction the editor found much contradiction in regard to John Lyly's life; much material bearing on it that had been, apparently, but rapidly read for its evidence in regard to him; and many years of his life left blank. It seemed, therefore, worth while to try to write an account of Lyly's career which should make use of all the known mate- rial in regard to him, and should, at the same time, clear away, if possible, the confusion that contradictory statements of previous biographers had caused. The editor hopes that the introduction throws some new light on the reasons for the delay in the publication of Euphues and his England, and on its connection with the early plays of Lyly; on the order of the comedies; on the distin- guishing of what is Lyly's work from what is not; on the part played by Lyly in the Harvey- i M JA ii PREFACE. Nash controversy, and on the dates for the undated begging letters of Lyly to the Queen. He hopes, also, that it will lead to a wider acceptance of the idea originally advanced by the Rev. Mr. Halpin, that Endymion is an allegory treating an episode in the relations of Leicester and Elizabeth, and to a better under- standing of the history of the children's com- panies between 1580 and 1600. In the intro- duction the aim has been to advance no theories to which evidence does not point the way; to distinguish carefully what is possible from what is probable, and both from what is evidently indisputable. The editor will be very grateful to any one who will call his attention to errors or oversights. He wishes to thank Professor G. L. Kittredge of Harvard University, for reading the proof of the text and for many helpful suggestions. He is also indebted to Professors Goodwin, Ashley, and Gross of Harvard, Professor Carpenter of Columbia, Mr. Sidney Lee, the Rev. W. Spar- row Simpson, D.D., Librarian of St. Paul's Cathedral, Mrs. M. G. Gibbs of Aylesbury, England, and Messrs. T. Hall and F. G. Taussig for aid in details of the text or introduction. GEO. P. BAKER. CAMBRIDGE, MASS., Aug. 20, 1894. JOHN LYLY. To the careful student of the Elizabethan drama the life and the writings of John Lyly' offer a succession of problems. For instance, the testimony as to the date of his birth is at first sight contradictory. In that portion of Euphues and his England in which Lyly writes in a way plainly autobiographic, Euphues Glasse for Europe, he says, speaking of the predecessors of Elizabeth on the throne of Eng- land: The elder sister the Princes Marie, suc- ceeded as next heire to the crowne, and as it chaunced nexte heire to the grave, touching (( 1 ¹ John Lyly's name has been spelled in many ways, especially in his own day, when the spelling of surnames was very variable. We find in the mentions of Lyly from the sixteenth to the nineteenth century the follow- ing forms of his name: Lilly, Lylli, Lillie, Lilie, Lylie, Lily, Lillye, Lylly and Lyly. At the end of the only autograph letter in English of Lyly's now extant, and also in the postcript, (Lansdowne MSS. XXXVI. 17; given on pp. cvi, cvii) the dramatist signs himself Jhon. Lyly. This spelling seems, therefore, as Lyly's own, preferable to the others. iii 7 iv JOHN LYLY. 1 3 whose life, I can say little bicause I was scarce borne." This gives us only the information that Lyly was born after July 6, 1553, when Mary came to the throne, and before Nov. 17, 1558, when she died. Anthony à Wood, how- ever, tells us that in 1569 "John Lylie or Lylly, a Kentish man born, became a student in Mag- dalen College, Oxford, aged 16 or thereabouts."" This places his birth in 1553 or 1554. Cooper says: "John Lilly, born in the Weald of Kent in 1553 or 1554, became a student of Magdalen College, Oxford, in 1569, but was not matricu- lated till 8 Oct., 1571, when he was entered as plebii filius." Foster in his Alumni Oxonienses says that when Lyly matriculated in 1571 he was seventeen years old.* That Lyly became a student at Magdalen College in 1569, but did not matriculate till 1571, is explained by the statement of Dr. Bloxam, an authority, that 1571 was the first year of matriculation and all the members of the college, old and young, matriculated together, the matriculation would not fix the date of entrance." Certainly this evidence as to the date of Lyly's birth is con- fusing: à Wood and Cooper say 1553 or 1554, the Alumni Oxonienses 1554; in 1569 he was 1 English Reprints: Lyly. Arber. P. 451. (( 2 Athenæ Oxonienses, I. 676. Ed. 1813. 3 Athenæ Cantab., II. 525. Ed. 1861. 4 Alumni Oxonienses, II. Lyly. 5 English Reprints: Lyly. Arber. Chronicle, ¶ 5. J JOHN LYLY. V (6 sixteen or thereabouts"; in 1571, two years later, seventeen. As Steinhäuser,' however, has shown, these apparent contradictions may be reconciled. Oct. 8, 1571, was the date of the first matricu- lation. If Lyly was born after Oct. 8, 1553, he could say in the early fall of 1569 that he was sixteen, for he was much nearer that than fifteen-roughly speaking, he was "sixteen or thereabouts." When, in the fall of 1571, the whole college carefully matriculated, he was, probably, asked to give his age at his last birth- day (the usual method at matriculations), and the answer to that question must have been seventeen, although shortly after he would have been eighteen. This reconciling of the differ- ent statements places the date for Lyly's birth between Oct. 8, 1553, and January, 1554, and makes him about five years old when Queen Mary died. Where in the "Weald of Kent" Lyly was born is not known. Reference to the indices of Hasted's History of Kent will convince a student that Lyly was an honorable Kentish name, but did not necessarily mean wealth. Ap- parently those of the name were staunch sup- porters of Magdalen College, for à Wood says: "Which house [Magdalen College] was seldom 1 ¹ John Lyly als Dramatiker. K. Steinhäuser. pp. 1, 2, note. vi JOHN LYLY. or never without a Lilye (understand me, not that it bears three lilyes for its arms) from the first foundation thereof to the latter end of 1 2 queen Elizabeth." It has been customary to assume that Lyly was poor by birth and through- out his life, but the evidence for this is not very conclusive. The impression rests on some words of Anthony à Wood; on Lyly's Latin letter to Lord Burleigh in 1574, asking for an appoint- ment to a fellowship in Magdalen College; on his holding, apparently, after he was settled in London, some position in the household of Lord Burleigh'; and on his frankly stated need, in his second begging letter to the Queen, after the choir-boys of St. Paul's had been forbidden to act. A Wood "conceives that Lyly was either one of the demies or clerks of that house" [Magdalen], but Dr. Bloxam, who made the history of Magdalen College his special study, weakens this testimony by saying that "Lylly might have been a poor scholar, but there is no reason to suppose that he was either a demy or a clerk." In other words, there is no evidence in the college records that ¹ Athenæ Oxon., I. 302. 6 2 See pp. xiv-xvi. ³ See p. cvi, cvii. 4 See p. clx. 5" Demi was the name given to the scholars who re- ceived half the allowance given to Fellows."-The Col- leges at Oxford. A. Clark, p. 237. • Ath. Oxon., I. 676. 'English Reprints Lyly. Chronicle, ¶ 5. : 1 JOHN LYLY. vii ! 2 Lyly was poor. That he registered as plebii filius meant nothing, of course, as to his means. Nor is there anything in the Latin letter that distinctly offers poverty as a reason for the ap- pointment to the fellowship.' A position under Lord Burleigh by no means necessarily implies poverty in the person who took it —indeed our knowledge of the nature of the position referred to in the letter is too slight for it to be used safely as evidence either for or against Lyly's poverty. Even, too, if Lyly did suffer when there was no longer any company of boys to perform his plays, that does not mean that he may not have had a fair start in life and comfortable condi- tions until the inhibition by the Queen closed the boys' theatre against him. The evidence for Lyly's poverty is, then, but weak at best. 1 ¹ Lyly thanks Burleigh for care of him, not asking, nor expecting it." (p. xvii, note.) When he says, "If I be not aided and upheld by such an order, I fail utterly, for no remedy can be thought of to console me, and there is no help for me," the words of course refer, not to his poverty, but rather to his lack of influence with the Fellows of Magdalen College and his own insufficient scholarship. • • • 2 "His Lordship was served with men of quality and stability, for most of the principall Gentlemen in Eng- land sought to preferre their sonnes and heirs to his service. Insomuch as I have nombred in his house attending on the table, 20 Gentlemen of his retayners, of 1000 per Ann. a peice in possession and reversion; and of his ordinary men as manie; some worth 1000. some 3, 5, 10, yea 20,000/ daily attending his Lordship's service."-Life of Wm. Cecil. A. Collins, 1732. p. 40. viii JOHN LYLY. On the other hand, there is evidence that favors a different view. As we shall see in a moment, Lyly seems to have been rusticated from Oxford for three years almost immediately on entering Magdalen.' That he could still go on with his university course after this long rustication argues strongly that he was not very poor, and causes a reader to wonder whether what Lyly makes old Fidus say in the Euphues and his England may not be really autobiographic: "I was borne in the wylde of Kent, of honest Par- ents, and worshipfull, whose tender cares, (if the fondnesse of parents may be so termed) pro- vided all things even from my very cradell, until their graves, that might either bring me up in good letters, or make me heire to great lyvings. I (with-out arrogancie be it spoken) was not in- feriour in wit to manye, which finding in my selfe, I flattered my selfe, but in ye ende deceived my selfe For being of the age of xx. yeares, there was no trade or kinde of lyfe that either fitted my humour or served my tourne, but the Court thinking that place the onely meanes to clymbe high, and sit sure: Wherein I followed the vaine of young Souldiours, who iudge nothing sweeter then warre til they feele the weight, I was there enterteined as well by the great friends my father made, as by mine own forward- nesse, where it being now but Honnie Moone, ¹ See pp. xi, xii. } JOHN LYLY. ix I endeavoured to courte it with a grace, (almost past grace,) laying more on my backe then my friendes could wel beare, having many times a brave cloke and a thredbare purse. 99 1 Now there is much that is autobiographic in the two parts of Lyly's Euphues. Of the first part Lyly said in his dedication of the second part to Lord Oxenford: "The first picture that Phydias the first Paynter shadowed, was the portraiture of his owne person, saying thus: if it be well, I will paint many besides Phydias, if ill, it shall offend none but Phydias. (6 In the like manner fareth it with me (Right Honourable) who never before handling the pensill, did for my fyrst counterfaite, coulour mine owne Euphues, being of this minde, that if it wer lyked, I would draw more besides Euphues, if loathed, grieve none but Euphues." " It is generally admitted, too, that in the Glasse for Europe of the second part of the Euphues, Lyly writes autobiographically. It is certainly noteworthy, therefore, that Lyly, like Fidus, was born in the weald of Kent; that both regarded the court as the only place for the ambitious man; that Fidus was twenty when he first turned to the Court, and that Lyly, when at twenty, in 1574, he wrote his Latin letter to Lord Burleigh, was evidently on the road that brought him to a 1 English Reprints: Lyly. p. 268. 2 Idem. p. 213. X JOHN LYLY. 1 position in the household of Lord Burleigh and his success at court; that, if we may believe what the dramatist says of himself in the Glasse for Europe, it was "forwardnesse," wit, which helped both men at court: "It was my fortune to be acquainted with certaine English Gentlemen, which brought mee to the court. . . . At the last comming oftner thether, then it beseemed one of my degree, yet not so often as they desired my company, I began to prye after theyr manners, natures, and lyves." Here is practically the description by Fidus of an introduction to the court; only, since the speaker, Euphues, is sup- posedly a foreigner, the gentlemen, who in the earlier account were the friends of the father of Fidus, and not the father, introduce the youth. When the two accounts coincide so nearly in all other respects, is it not a temptation to believe that in the father of Fidus we have a glimpse of the father of Lyly? If we have, Lyly would have been by birth what the Lylys in Hasted's History of Kent seem to have been, what their staunch support of Magdalen would make them,—not very poor, but people of the middle class." Lyly's father might well have been a man in some comfortable position in life which made it possible for him to give his son a good start in the world, but not to leave him much at his ¹ English Reprints: Lyly. P. 442. 2 Hasted's Hist. of Kent. 55, 56. Vols. ix, p. 76; x. 82; xii. JOHN LYLY. xi death. Certainly, whether we accept this con- clusion or not, it will be seen that the evidence -the rustication from Oxford and the words of Fidus-against early poverty for Lyly is about as strong as that in favor of it. Of Lyly's life from his birth to 1569 we know nothing What he was doing in 1569, 1570, and 1571 to Oct. 8, it would be impossible to say, were it not for a part of his Address to the Gentle- men Scholars of Oxford, printed in 1579, in the second edition of the first part of the Euphues and before the appearance of the Eng- land. Here, repelling the charge that had been made against him of defaming Oxford in some parts of the Ephoebus of the Anatomie of Wit, he says: “Yet may I of all the rest most condempne Oxford of unkindnesse, of vice I cannot, who seemnd to weane mee before she brought mee forth, and to give mee boanes to gnaw, before I could get the teate to sucke. Wherein she played the nice mother in sending me into the Countrie to nurse, where I tyred at a drie breast three yeares, and was at last inforced to weane my selfe. But it was destinie, for if I had not ben gathered from the tree in the bud, I should being blowen have prooved a blast, and as good it is to be an addle egge, as an idle bird." That Lyly cannot condemn Oxford for vice, and his confession in the last sentence of the 1 English Reprints: Lyly. p. 207. ,, 1 xii JOHN LYLY. quotation, suggest that almost at once after com- ing to Oxford he was rusticated for some mis- conduct serious enough to require a severe penalty.' Whether the length of the rustication, three years, was wholly due to the conduct of Lyly is doubtful, for we must remember that 'in the early months of 1571 a terrible plague raged in that city [Oxford]. The townsmen died in great numbers, and the schools were closed, the students being sent to read with their tutors in country houses or allowed to return to their own homes." At such a time, of course, a rusticated collegian would not be recalled. Of Lyly at Oxford we know scarcely anything. À Wood writes-evidently copying, as Pro- fessor Arber points out," the enthusiastically 1 Fairholt's statement (p. xi., Dramatic Works of John Lilly) that Lyly was rusticated for "glancing at some abuses" is the result of a careless reading of the "Ad- dress to the Gentlemen Scholars." Lyly uses the phrase which Fairholt quotes, but as follows: "It was reported of some, and believed of many, that in the Education of Ephoebus, where mention is made of Universities, that Oxford was too much either defaced or defamed. They that invented this toie were unwise, and they that reported it unkinde, and yet none of them can prove me unhonest. . . . But suppose I glaunced at some abuses [i.e. in the Ephoebus] . . . there is no tree but hath some blast, and shall Oxford then be blamelesse ?" (pp. 207, 208. Arber.) 2 Philip Sidney. (Heroes of Nations.) H. R. Fox Bourne. P. 53. 3 English Reprints: Lyly. Chronology, ¶ 6. JOHN LYLY. xiii inaccurate Blount,' who brought out the first edition of Lyly's collected plays-that Lyly" was always averse to the crabbed studies of logic and philosophy. For so it was that his genie being naturally bent to the pleasant paths of poetry (as if Apollo had given to him a wreath of his own bays, without snatching or struggling), did in a manner neglect academical studies, yet not so much but that he took the degrees in arts, that of master being compleated 1575. At which time, as he was esteemed at the university a noted wit so afterwards was in the court of Q. Elizabeth, where he was also reputed a rare poet, witty, comical, and facetious." " That Lyly may have been averse to the crabbed studies of logic and philosophy," scenes in Alexander and Campaspe and Sapho and Phao, and passages in Pappe with an Hatchet, all satirizing methods of formal logic, certainly suggest. His early escapade, too, hardly fore- shadows the close student. Gabriel Harvey, writing fiercely against Lyly in his Pierce's Super- erogation, speaks of him as once the foile of Oxford, now the stale of London," "sometime the fiddle-stick of Oxford, now the very bable of (6 2 1 For Blount's words see the preface to the 1632 edi- tion and Fairholt's Lilly, vol. I. pp. xxx-xxxii. 2 Ath. Oxon. I. 276. 3 A. and C., Act I. Sc. 2. S. and P., Act II. Sc. 2; Act III. Sc. 2. P. H. p. 52, Saintsbury's ed. 4 Harvey's Works. Grosart. Vol. II. p. 132. xiv JOHN LYLY. 99 1 London,' and says: "They were much de- ceived in him, at Oxford, and in the Savoy, when master Absalon lived; that tooke him onely for a dapper and deft companion, or a pert, con- ceited youth, that had gathered together a fewe prettie sentences, and could handsomely helpe younge Euphues to an old simile: and never thought him any such mighty doer at the sharpe." Allowing for the anger of Harvey which exaggerates his statements, we see that these words show that before Lyly left Oxford he was prominent there, and noted, at least, for his cleverness. April 27, 1573, Lyly took his B.A. On May 16, 1574, he wrote the following Latin letter to Lord Burleigh, asking to be made a fellow of Magdalen College :- "Viro illustrissimo et insignissimo Heroi Do- mino Burgleo, totius Angliae Thesaurario, Regiae Maiestatis intimis a concilijs, et patrono suo colendissimo. J. L. (( Quod in me tuum alumnum benignitas tua munifica extiterit (Clarissime Heros) et ultro ne 1 Harvey's Works. Grosart. Vol. II. p. 212. " Idem. Vol. II. p. 128. Pierce's Supererogation. 3 Fasti Oxon. Wood. Ed. 1815. 4 Lansdowne MSS. XIX. Art. 16. The letter is in- dorsed: "16 May, 1574. John Lilie, a scholar of Ox- ford. An epistle for ye Queen's letters to Magdalen College to admit him fellow." JOHN LYLY. XV expectanti quidem studium, operam, et singu- larem industriam declaraveris, agnosco pro eo ac decet supplex tuam humanitatem in literarum studiosus pietatem. Quare cum incredibilis mansuetudo tua, non solum merita, sed spem longe superarit, et quod meus pudor nunquam rogasset prolixius indulserit, habeo tuo honori gratias maximas, et vero tantas, quantas meæ facultatulæ referre nunquam poterunt. Et licet proiectae cuiusdam audaciae et praefrictae frontis videri possit, iuvenum rudem et temerarium, virum amplissimum et prudentem, eum cui nec aetatis accessio iudicij maturitatem, nec casta disciplina integritatem morum, nec artium doc- trina scientiæ supellectilem est elargita, insignis- simum Heroem, pro regni incolumitate, salute reip., communium fortunarum defensione excu- bantem, rursum iniquis precibus interpellare, et importunius obstrepere. Tamen cum optimi cuiusque bonitas commune omnium sit per- fugium, subinde percogitans esse animi excelsi cui multum subvenit ei velle plurimum opitulari, ad tuam amplitudinem quam perspectam indies, suspectam nunquam, probatam saepius habui, supplici prece accedo, passis manibus tuam operam, studium, humanitatem implorans. Haec summa est, in hoc cardo vertitur, haec Helena, ut tua celsitudo dignetur serenissimae regiæ magistatis literas (ut minus latine dicam) mandatorias extorquere, ut ad Magdalenenses. deferantur quo in eorum societatem te duce pos- xvi JOHN LYLY. sim obrepere, fortunae nostrae tanquam funda- mento, tibi tanquam firmamento, connituntur. Nisi his sublever, et sustenter, misere corruo, nihil enim potest quod me consoletur excogitari remedij, nec aliquid esset L. nisi tuus honor tanquam numen quoddam propitium, aut sacra anchora, aut salutare sydus, et Cynosura prælux- erit. Adeoque meum corpus tuo honori, et tenues fortunas tuae voluntati, et animum ad tua mandata conficienda habes expeditissimum. Quare in quem saepe celsitudo tua benefica, op- eræ parata, studium semper promptum feruit, eundem hoc tempore supplicem et ad pedes tuos abiectum pro solita tua et incredibili humani- tate sublevato, ego interim supplices manus ad deum Opt. Max. tendam ut beneficentia Alex- andrum, humanitate Traianum, aetate Nestorem, invicta mentis celsitudine Camillum, Salamonem prudentia, Davidem sanctimonia, Josiam religi- onis collapsae instaurandae, et incorruptae con- servandae cura, possis adaequare. Hoc interim promitto et spondeo meam nec in imbibendis. artibus curam, nec in referenda gratia amimum, nec in perferendo labore industriam, nec in pro- paganda tua laude studium, nec religionem in officio, nec fidem in obsequio, unquam defu- turam. Vale. (6 'Tuae amplitudinis observantissimus, "JOANNES LILIUS."" 1 The following will, perhaps, serve as a translation of Lyly's letter: JOHN LYLY. xvii } Lyly did not get his fellowship. That, how- ever, does not mean, necessarily, that Burleigh did not use some influence for Lyly, for man- datory letters from the Queen, the method of nomination to a fellowship asked for by Lyly, "To the very illustrious man and very distinguished hero, Lord Burleigh, Lord Treasurer of England, Privy Councillor to Her Majesty, and his own revered patron, from J. L. "Since, most illustrious hero, you have repeatedly shown your kind generosity to me, your foster-child, and since you have exhibited a zealous interest, an un- matched and constant care for me, neither asking nor expecting it, I suppliantly acknowledge, as I should, your kindness and your fostering care for students of letters. Wherefore, since your inconceivable kindness has been far beyond my desert and my hopes, and has lavishly granted more than my modest wish ever asked for, I feel deeply grateful to your Honor for a generosity that my feeble powers will never enable me to requite. And though it may seem the height of boldness and barefaced impudence for an untaught and heedless youth, address- ing a nobleman of vast power and wisdom, one whose judgment did not need for ripeness added years, whose upright character never needed training, whose learning required no instruction, a most distinguished hero, ever watchful for the entirety of the realm, the safety of the State, and the protection of the general welfare, -to dis- turb him with importunate entreaty, yet, since a great nobleman's grace is our common refuge, and since I believe that a man of lofty soul would wish to aid to the utmost him whom he has already greatly aided, I now suppliantly come to your nobleness,—which I have wit- nessed daily, never questioned, and often experienced,- imploring your help, your interest, your mercy. This is xviii JOHN LYLY. were always unpopular with the officials of Ox- ford colleges, and just about the time of Lyly's letter there was specially strong objection made to them at Magdalen.' Certainly, the opening lines of Lyly's letter show that for some time the sum of my entreaty; on this all hinges; this is the Helen-that your Honor will deign to obtain from Her Most Gracious Majesty a mandatory letter, (pardon my Latin,) to be presented to the authorities of Magdalen, enabling me, under your protection, to join that college, for my fortune rests on you as its foundation and support. If I be not aided and upheld by such an order, I fail utterly, for no new remedy can be thought of to console. me; and there is no help for me, unless your Honor be my protecting divinity, my sacred anchor, or shine upon me as my star of safety, my Cynosure. And my strength is at your Honor's service, my slender fortunes at your disposal, my heart and soul ready to execute your orders. Wherefore, since your Honor, blessing and ready to aid, has always shown an active interest in my behalf, now with your accustomed incredible kindness raise me up, suppliant as I am and prostraté at your feet; and I will lift my hands in prayer to God Almighty that you may equal Alexander in well-doing (success), Trajan in humanity, Nestor in long life, Camillus in invincible loftiness of soul, Solomon in wisdom, David in holiness, Josiah in care for the restoring of a downfallen religion and for keeping it intact. Meantime, this I vow and promise, that my efforts to acquire knowledge, my deep gratitude for your favor my industry in performing my work, my zeal in spreading your renown, my devotion to duty, and my faithful obedience, shall never falter. Your Grace's most obedient "JOHN LYLY." ¹ The Colleges at Oxford, A. Clark, p. 245. JOHN LYLY. xix before 1574, Lord Burleigh had been his patron. In the Glasse for Europe, written not later than the summer of 1580, as we shall soon see,' Lyly, thanking Lord Burleigh by name for past kind- nesses, shows that he was aided from his first appeal: “Among the number of all which noble and wise counsailors, (I can-not but for his honors sake remember) the most prudent and right honourable ye Lorde Burgleigh, high Treasurer of that Realme. . . . This noble man I found so ready being but a straunger, to do me good, that neyther I ought to forget him, neyther cease to pray for him, that as he hath the wisdome of Nestor, so he may have the age, that having the policies of Vlysses, he may have his honor, worthye to lyve long, by whome so manye lyve in quiet, and not unworthy to be advaunced, by whose care so many have beene preferred.' We shall see that in 1582 he apparently held some position in the household of his patron. 3 55 2 June 1, 1575, Lyly took his M.A.* What he did between this date and the appearance of Euphues, The Anatomie of Wit, in the winter of 1579, Pp. xxvii-xxxvi. 2 English Reprints: Lyly. pp. 441, 442. 3 See pp. civ-cx. 4 Fasti Oxon. À Wood. 5 5 “Dec. 2, 1578. Gabriel Cawood. Licensed unto him the Anatomie of Witt, compiled by John Lyllie, under the hande of the bishoppe of London xijd." (Eng. Reprints Lyly. Chron., ¶ 13.) "My first counterfaite hatched in the hard winter with the Alcyon" (p. 215). • • • XX JOHN LYLY. 1 is not known. Mr. Fleay has surmised that after taking his degree of M.A. at Oxford he went to London to make his way at court. That he was ambitious to be a courtier the words cited on p. x. seem to show, but that until after the publication of the first part of the Euphues in 1579 he was regularly at the court does not seem undebatable. Mr. Fleay sur- 2 mises that Lyly was a candidate for the Mas- tership of the Revels, which became vacant in March, 1577, at the death of Sir Thomas Benger.³ But that a youth of twenty-four who, 1 Chron. Eng. Drama, Fleay. Vol. II. p. 37. 2 Fleay, Idem, p. 38. 3 As there has been some confusion in the statements as to who was Master of the Revels from 1573-1579, it may be well to add this list made from the Extracts from the Accounts of the Revels at Court." In 1571 we find (p. 1) "Sr Thomas Benger Knighte (being Mr of the seide office)". He did not, however, sign the ac- counts; Buggyn, "Clerk comptrouler,' Blagrave, "Clerke," and J. Arnold, doing this. In May, 1572 (p. 16), occurs the entry : "The Mr of thoffice, vz Sr Thomas Benger Knighte," but the accounts still lack Benger's name. From June 1, 1572, to June 1, 1573, Sir John Fortescue, “M' of the Queenes Matle▪ great Warderobe " (p. 17), seems to have been in charge of the Revels: Sir Thomas Benger's name entirely disappears, and Fortes- cue's is the first on the list of those signing the accounts. The Mastership did not, however, really become vacant until March, 1577, when Benger died. Fortescue seems to have remained in charge until Oct. 1573, but from that date until March, 1574 (p. 48), "Thomas JOHN LYLY. xxi until 1579, had apparently done nothing to give him any claim to the place should two years before have declared himself a candidate for the reversion does not seem very probable. More- over, when Lyly, in his first begging letter to the Queen, speaks of his long, unsuccessful waiting for the position of Master of the Revels, he makes no mention of the vacancy from March, 1577, to December, 1578, or of any bitter disappointment in regard to it. In compiling a statement of Blagrave esquier, served therin [the Office of the Revels] as Master, according to her Maties pleasure signefyed by the right honorable L. Chamberlaine." From Feb. 1574 to Feb. 1575 Blagrave served again, “appoynted Master . . . as by sundry Letters from the Lorde Chamberlayne maye appeare (p. 77). Under this kind of special appointment Blagrave seems to have been in charge until Dec. 1578, for though we do not find his name specially mentioned as the Master's in the succeeding accounts, we find him signing the ac- counts where the Master's name should stand, and we know that Dec. 13, 1578, he was made" Chief Officer," but not Master, of the Revels (Fleay, Chron. Hist. p. 37.) In Dec. 1578, however, "Ed. Tyllney" signed his name beside Blagrave's to the accounts for Feb. 1577-78 to Dec. 1578 (p. 124). Now, we know that in July, 1579, Tylney was made permanent Master of the Revels (Fleay, Chron. Hist. p. 37), and that he was allowed rent of a house from Dec. 1578 (Revels' Accounts, pp. 149, 150), so, evidently, he was given a trial from Dec. 1578, and finally appointed in July. After March, 1579 (p. 152), Blagrave's name disappears until 1583 (p. 186). In other words, then, the real vacancy existed only from March, 1577, to Dec. 1578. xxii JOHN LYLY. his grievances, would he have been likely to omit so heavy a blow as the appointment of Tylney? He certainly referred plainly enough in this and the second letter to other acts that he considered grievous. It will, too, be seen later (pp. lxxxix and clxiv) that Mr. Fleay's surmise ill accords with the probable date of Lyly's first play- writing and his begging letters to the Queen. We do know, however, that in 1579 Lyly was incorporated M.A. at Cambridge.' This and his words in the Euphues and his England-"There are also in this Islande two famous Universities, the one Oxforde, the other Cambridge, both for the profession of all sciences, for Divinitie, phisicke, Lawe, and all kinde of learning, excel- ling all the Universities in Christendome. I was my selfe in either of them, and like them both so well, that I meane not in the way of contro- versie to preferre any for the better in Eng- lande, but both for the best in the world "2 favor decidedly the idea that some part of the time between 1575 and 1579 was passed at Cam- bridge. When we consider, too, the nature of the first part of the Euphues, as compared with the second, there is a difference that gives some color to the idea that, until Euphues, The Anat- omie of Wit appeared, Lyly was more at the uni- versities than at the court, though watching his chance for an opening at the latter. As far as 1 Ath. Cantab. Cooper. 2 English Reprints: Lyly. pp. 435, 436. JOHN LYLY. xxiii the contents of the first part of the Euphues are concerned, they could, with the exception of the letters of Euphues to his friends, have been written away from the court and with no knowl- edge of it. After the sharp break between the Euphues and Atheos and the letters, begin the references to court life and the Queen. Even these do not show anything like the same close personal knowledge of the court that the Glasse does. What the Anatomie chiefly "anatomizes" is not, as in the England, the court, but the uni- versity life. It is, Lyly frankly admitted,' a com- pilation the story of Euphues and Philautus; the translation of the Ephebus from Plutarch; the Atheos (suggested by the ninth, tenth, eleventh and twelfth chapters of Guevara's Dial for Princes); the letters in the spirit of Guevara;² 1 "If I seeme to gleane after an others Cart, for a few eares of corne, or of the Taylors shreds to make me a lyvery, I will not deny, but that I am one of those Poets, which the painters faine to come unto Homers bason, there to lap up, that he doth cast up." (Epist. Dedica- tory, Euphues and his England, Arber, p. 215.) "Gabriel Cawood. Licensed unto him the Anatomie of Witt, compiled by John Lyllie, under the hande of the bishopp of London . . . xij ª.” xijd." (Dec. 2, 1578, Stationers' Register.) ? The letter to Alcius is in subject and treatment sub- stantially the same as that of Marcus Aurelius to Epesipo, his nephew, in the Dial for Princes.-Ency. Brit. xxiv JOHN LYLY. -put together in the style of the Dial, as a youth still at, or fresh from, the universities might gather together in the style of the book most af fecting him at the moment the paraphrases, trans- lations, and original work he had done from time to time. Does it not seem probable that Lyly, ambitious to get an opening at the court, had, as a brilliant youth, made powerful friends at the university and occasionally been brought to court; that most of his time, however, was spent at the universities until 1579; but that late in 1578' he brought or sent to the publisher Cawood in London the first part of the Euphues, and, in order to win from the courtiers attention for his book, added, from his slight experience at the court, the touches as to it and the Queen. His own words suggest that he wished the book to repay some obligation which he owed Sir William West, Lord Delaware. He says: The one [The Anatomie of Wit] I sent to a noble man to nurse, who with great love brought him up, for a yeare,' and "neyther doe I set this forth for anie devotion in Print, but for duetie which I owe to my Patron." " What this aid of Lord Delaware's was we have no evidence to determine. Certainly, if this book was writ- ten after four years of court life under the protection of men like Burleigh, is it not odd that Lyly, who took naturally to court life, as his 1 See the second half of note I, p. xxiii. English Reprints Lyly. p. 214. 9, 2 3 3 Idem, p. 205. . JOHN LYLY. XXV own words show;' who became in his second book, and remained throughout his life, one of the most fulsome flatterers of the time; found occasion only in the last half-dozen pages of his first book to flatter the Queen,-and then in words insipid in comparison with the chance bits he drops by the way in all his later work? As some one has said, The Anatomie of Wit Lyly apparently wrote to please himself and satisfy his conscience, it spoke out clearly and strongly about abuses of the time; the England was apparently written to please his readers, and it is a combination of an intentionally flattering picture of England, the court, and the Queen, and a story containing no such direct censure as that of the Anatomie. The conditions, there- fore, under which the two were written, the birthplace of the two, do not seem likely to have been the same. The Anatomie of Wit, the first of Lyly's works, appeared between December, 1578, and the spring of 1579, for it was licensed in December, and Lyly says: "The one" (The ¹ See pp. viii-x. 2. Which discourse. I hope you will the rather pardon for the rudenes in that it is the first."—Epistle Dedicatorie; Euphues, The Anatomie of Wit, Arber, p. 203. "Who never before handling the pensill, did for my fyrst counterfaite, colour mine owne Euphues (Arber, p. 213). "Of the first I was delivered before my friendes, thought mee conceived" (Arber, p. 214). xxvi JOHN LYLY. 2 3 Anatomie) was 'hatched in the hard winter.¹ All the signs of success mark its appearance. Lyly's friends urged him to give them more of Euphues; it raised envious detractors; it was sharply criticised for its supposed censure of Oxford, and Lyly felt called upon, between the printing of the first and the second edition (in 1579) of The Anatomie of Wit, to issue his ad- dress to The Gentleman Scholars of Oxford. The book made it possible for Lyly to dedicate his second work to a much greater patron Lord Oxenford; it started a literary fashion. Sure sign of success, a second volume, Euphues and his England was licensed for printing July 24, 1579. But here came a pause in Lyly's rapid progress. The work thus licensed did not ap- pear till months afterward. brought into the worlde, two children. . . . Of the second" (Euphues and his England) "I went a whole yeare big, and yet when everye one thought me ready to lye down, I did then. quicken But good huswives shall make my ex- 7 5 6 Lyly says: Lyly says: "I have 1 English Reprints: Lyly. p. 215. 2 "Some there have been that praised mine olde worke, and urged me to make a new." Idem, p. 213. 3 Idem, pp. 223, 224. 5 Idem, pp. 213–218. 4 Idem, pp. 207, 208. The English Novel in the Time of Shakespeare. J. J. Jusserand. Chap. IV. Blount: To the Reader. 7 July 24, 1579, "G. Cawood, Lycenced unto him and the second part of euphues." Vid. Stationers' VIª. Register. JOHN LYLY. xxvii cuse, who know that Hens do not lay egges when they clucke, but when they cackle, nor men set forth workes when they promise, but when they performe. And I in this resemble the Lappwing, who fearing hir young ones to be destroyed by passengers, flyeth with a false cry farre from their nestes, making those that looke for them seeke where they are are not: So I suspecting that Euphues would be carped of some curious Reader, thought by some false shewe to bringe them in hope of that which then I meant not, leading them with a longing of a second part, that they might speake well of the first, being never farther from my studie, then when they thought me hovering over it.' (6 Being a great start from Athens to England, he [Euphues] thought to stay for the advantage of a Leape yeare [1580], and had not this yeare leapt with him, I think he had not yet leapt hether."" 99 3 "not Liter- Lyly speaks of the second book as daring to bud till the colde were past. ally interpreted, that would mean the spring of 1580. Lyly's own explanations of the undoubted fact that the book was not published until the spring or summer of 1580, become, however, a little suspicious when we consider some dates in the Euphues and his England. The last letter of Philautus to Euphues, received by the latter 1 English Reprints: Lyly. p. 214. 3 Idem, p. 215. 2 Idem, p. 223. xxviii JOHN LYLY. 5 9) 1 ,, 3 not a" quarter of a yeare after he left England, is dated 1 Feb. 1579,2 but in the opening para- graph of the book Lyly says that Euphues and Philautus "tooke shipping the first of December 1579 by our English Computation.' In Feb. 1580 they landed at Dover. In Lent, 1580, Lady Flavia* gave her supper-party, yet in Feb. 1579 Euphues, something like three months after leaving England, received a letter from Philautus that does much to bring the story to a close. Evidently, as both Professor Arber and Mr. Fleay point out, all the dates in the the book, except the last, were once earlier, and for some reason have been changed. Such changes would show that the book was finished a considerable time before it was printed, and that they were made to bring it up to date. If the dates preceding Feb. 1, 1579, were still earlier originally, a student must wonder whether the Euphues and his England was not written very shortly after the appearance of The Anato- mie of Wit-that is, in the winter of 1579. The first set of dates, ending with Feb. 1, 1579, would then have accorded well with the possible dates of The Anatomie of Wit. ¹ English Reprints: Lyly. p. 464. 3 Idem, p. 225. 2 Idem, P. 470. 4 Idem, p. 210. 5 Idem, p. 210. Chron. Eng. Drama. Fleay. II. 37, 38. Mr. Fleay notes that the last date, Feb. 1, 1579, could not be made to accord with the others unless changed to July, 1580, or Feb. 1580-81, and that the date of issue apparently would not permit of either of these dates. JOHN LYLY. xxix It is, however, odd that in the Glasse for Europe Lyly writes of an event which did not take place until after Feb. 1579, the date of the letter of Philautus which seems to have come to Euphues after he had written the Glasse.' Here is the passage referred to: "I my selfe being in England when hir majestie was for hir recreation in hir Barge upon ye Thames, hard of a Gun that was shotte off though of the partie unwittingly, yet to hir noble person daungerously, which fact she most graciously pardoned, accept- ing a iust excuse before a great amends, taking more griefe for hir poore Bargeman, that was a little hurt, than care for hir selfe that stoode in greatest hasarde." This refers to an incident which the popular imagination of Lyly's time con- strued into an attempt, authorized by Leicester, on the French ambassador, Simiert. It took place apparently in May, 1579. The presence of this passage in the Glasse must mean one of two things either Lyly wrote the Glasse for Europe and all the last part of the book after May, 1579, and did not notice his con- flict in dates, or he wrote first the Euphues- Philautus story, and then, some time later, added the Glasse for Europe. The evident at- tempt, however, to make the dates throughout 9 1 English Reprints: Lyly. pp. 432, 433, 464. 2 Idem, p. 453. 3 Les Projets de Mariage de la Reine Elisabeth. La Ferrière. pp. 218, 219. XXX JOHN LYLY. the book consistent shows some care for details, and gives probability to the idea that the refer- ence in the Glasse for Europe was overlooked because it was not in the original plan for the work, but was added after the Euphues-Philau- tus story was written. If it was inserted at the time when the dates were changed and that of the letter of Philautus forgotten, the conflict is easy to understand. If, too, a student will com- pare the two parts of the Euphues, he will see that the second is much longer than the first; that most of the additional space is filled by the Glasse for Europe; that, if he omits the Glasse," he needs to add only a few words to make the remaining parts of the book connect well; that, because of the omission, the story of Euphues and Philautus is more effective; and that the omission gets rid of a decided conflict in dates, and makes Feb. 1, 1579, a fitting date, by the original plan, for the last letter of Philautus. There would seem to be, then, some ground for suspecting that, though the rest of Euphues and his England was finished not long after Feb. 1579, the Glasse for Europe may have been added some time after the original draft of the book was completed. Later we shall find other evi- dence favoring this idea. 2 What was, probably, the cause of this long delay, for which Lyly makes rather ponderous ¹ English Reprints: Lyly. PP. 432-464. 2 See p. xc. } JOHN LYLY. xxxi excuses, and for the addition, if it was made, to the original MSS.? Professor Arber offers no suggestion. Mr. Fleay,' working with the idea that from 1575 Lyly was a candidate for Master of the Revels, thinks, since on the day of the licensing of the second part of the Euphues the writ appointing Edmund Tylney Master of the Revels was issued, that the cause of the delay was Lyly's bitter disappointment at not getting the office. Mr. Fleay thinks, too, that had Lyly ob- tained the position, he intended to dedicate the book to Lord Burleigh or the Queen. This last supposition, resting evidently on the praise of the Queen and Lord Burleigh in the Glasse for Europe, fails, of course, if by any chance that is an addition after July, 1579. A possibility that this is true has been shown. It certainly seems odd that, if Lyly was a courtier, trying hard to get the Mastership of the Revels, he had no inkling until the issuance of the writ of July 29, 1579, that his chances were naught, for Tylney was certainly connected with the Revels' Office from Dec. 1578; was apparently appointed on trial at that time; and his permanent appoint- ment, merely, settled in July. Could an eager aspirant for Tylney's position have been wholly ignorant from December to July of what was going on? Moreover, though the Euphues and his England was evidently intended to advance Lyly's 3 1 Chron. Eng. Dram., II. 37, 38. 2 See pp. xxix-xxx. ³ See note, p. xxi. xxxii JOHN LYLY. interests, it does not offer a hint of any special interest he wished it to forward; and if during two years Lyly had been, and during the years to come wished to be, a candidate for Tylney's posi- tion, does it not seem likely that he would have let some reference to his special desire slip out in the second part of the Euphues? Why, too, even if he was sorely disappointed in his hopes, should he have delayed for a year a book ready to be printed,' expected by the public,² and likely to increase his reputation greatly? If we believe that the book as originally written contained the Glasse for Europe, Lyly may, perhaps, be sup- posed to have hesitated to print that fulsome flattery when it must sound, in his disappoint- ment, hypocritical. But was an Elizabethan likely to delay for a whole year, because of some incon- sistency between his real feelings and those ex- pressed by him, the publication of an eagerly- expected book? Certainly, he could easily have toned down the panegyric. On the other hand, there is doubt whether the Glasse was not added after July, 1579;³ and the flattery in it is so unstinted as to suggest some special recent cause for gratitude to the Queen and high momentary favor, when it was written. When all this is considered, does it not seem more likely that the desire for the position of the Master of the Revels followed rather than pre- 2 English Reprints: Lyly. pp. 213, 214. ¹ See p. xxx. 3 See pp. xxvi, xxvii. JOHN LYLY. xxxiii ceded the appearance of the second part of the Euphues? The prolonged delay in publishing a sequel (written mainly, if not entirely, before its licens- ing in July, 1579) to a great success, certainly suggests in the time attending or immediately following the licensing of the book some very serious check to Lyly's career,—even royal dis- favor. For this disfavor, though Mr. Fleay seems forced to believe in it,' he offers no rea- son. There is a supposition, however, which meets the difficulties of the problem as well as Mr. Fleay's suggestion, and accounts for the royal disfavor. It is that Lyly was by July, 1579, associated in the Queen's mind with Lord Leicester, as one of his followers or fac- tion; it took in nearly all of the court;- that Lyly shared in the disfavor which Lord Leicester and his friends lived under from late July, 1579, till July, 1580; that because of this disfavor Lyly did not deem it wise to bring out his book (metaphorically as well as literally) "until the colde were past," the summer of 1580, when Leicester and his friends were again in favor. Certainly that the book, licensed to be printed just as the storm broke, was delayed, 2 3 4 Note. The au- 1 Chron. Eng. Dram., II. 38. 2 See p. xxxiv. Philip Sidney. H. R. Fox Bourne. p. 211. thority here seems to be a MS. in the possession of Mr. Cottrell-Dormer, at Rousham, near Oxford. • Euphues and his England, Ep. Ded., Arber. p. 215. xxxiv JOHN LYLY. though eagerly looked for by the public, until that storm was passing away, is very significant. Let us look rapidly at the evidence bearing on the supposition. At just about the date of the licensing of the England, July 24, 1579, Simier, the French ambassador, revealed to Elizabeth the secret marriage of Lord Leicester to Lettice, Countess of Essex.' Until the summer of 1580 the resulting disfavor of the Queen lasted, though with periods of less severity. During this time the court was much disturbed by the quarrel, and Leicester's friends and followers stood by him loyally. Robert Parsons writes: "And if you will have an evi- • 1 "Lorsqu'il (Simier) vint annoncer à Élisabeth que le duc arriverait dans les premiers jours d'août, elle ne donna aucun ordre pour sa réception. Sa tendresse pour Leicester parut un instant se réveiller. Il était urgent de frapper un grand coup; Simier en eut l'audace. Sans aucune préparation, il apprit à la reine que Leicester était marié secrètement à Lettice Knollys, la veuve d'Essex. A cette révélation inattendue, entrant dans une de ses colères de lionne, elle se roula par terre, injuriant tous ceux qui l'approchèrent, et refusant de manger. Elle fit alors enfermer Leicester dans un des forts de Greenwich. . . . La place était donc libre, le duc pouvait venir. . . Parti le 2 août, il s'embarqua à Boulogne, et à son arrivée alla droit à Greenwich." (Les Projets de Mariage de la Reine Élisabeth. La Ferrière. pp. 220-21.) • Evidently, then, the rupture with Leicester immediately preceded the coming of the Duc d'Anjou in the first week of August. JOHN LYLY. XXXV sr dent Demonstration of this man's [Leicester's] power and favour in that place, call but to mind the times when Her Majesty, upon most just and urgent occasions, did withdraw but a little her wonted Favour and Countenance from him, did not all the Court as it were mutiny presently? Did not every Man hang the Lip, except but a few, who afterwards paid sweetly for their mirth? At such a time Lyly, if he was re- garded by the Queen as in any way connected. with Leicester, would not have been wise to bring out the England, for whether it originally contained the Glasse for Europe or did not, Lyly could not, as a follower of Leicester, hope for any special favor for it from the Queen, and in the troubled condition of the court the book would not be likely to make the success of its predecessor among the courtiers. What, however, is the probability that Lyly was thus associated with Leicester in the Queen's mind? Leicester was chancellor of Oxford,² where Lyly had been a prominent undergradu- ate. In 1575 Leicester gave his famous enter- tainment for Elizabeth at Kenilworth, to which all the neighborhood flocked. Then Lyly was still at Oxford. Leicester was the patron of actors, 3 ¹ Memoirs of Robert Dudley [Robert Parsons]. Col- lectanea Adamantea, 4 vols., Edinburgh, 1888, II. 39. 2 Leicester was made chancellor 30 Dec. in 7 Eliz. Let- ters and Memorials of State. A. Collins. Vol. I. p. 45. 3 Laneham's Letter. New Shaks. Society. 1887. Se- ries VI. xxxvi JOHN LYLY. 1 2 playwrights, men of wit. Lyly may well have known him, therefore, before The Anatomie made him prominent at the court. Add that through Leicester lay the way to success at the court; that there are reasons for believing that in aid of Leicester's plans at different times Lyly wrote Endymion and even Sapho and Phao, since the latter play shows distinctly that he was no favorer of the marriage with the Duc d'Anjou ; and does it not seem possible that by July, 1579, Lyly was already enough con- nected with the great favorite's interests to feel unsafe in risking during the year of disfavor the publication of his book? Then, in the summer of 1580, when "the cold" was past, he might well bring out his book and in his satisfaction add The Glasse for Europe. 9 The book certainly seems to have brought Lyly desirable results. The formality of his dedication of the work to Lord Oxenford, the 1 "Hereof also ensueth, that no man may be preferred in the Court, be he otherwise never so well a deserving Servant to Her Majesty, except he be one of Leicester's Faction or Followers: None can receive Grace, except he stand in good favour; no one may live in continuance and quiet of Life, except he take it, use it, and acknowl- edge it from him: so as all the favours, graces, dignities, preferments, riches and rewards which Her Majesty be- stoweth, or the Realm can yield must serve to purchase this mans private friends and favourers, only to advance his party and fortify his faction." Memoirs of Robert Dudley. Vol. II. p. 36. 2 See pp. xliii-lxxiv. 3 See p. xl. Foot-note. JOHN LYLY. xxxvii difference in tone between it and that to Lord Delaware,' seem to mean that at the time of the dedication Lyly did not know well Lord Oxen- ford, one of the chief patrons of letters at the court. Indeed, Gabriel Harvey, writing a dozen years later, complained that at about this time Lyly, anxious to curry favor with the Earl, tried to convince him that Harvey in his lines, The Mirrour of Tuscanismo, printed in his letters to Spenser, Three Proper, Wittie, Familiar Letters, had satirized him. The dedication of this work 3 2 English Reprints: Lyly. pp. 202–204. The ? The Mirrour of Tuscanismo is one of Harvey's cum- brous attempts at English verse in classic metres. Works of Gabriel Harvey. Grosart. Vol. I. p. 183. "And that was all the Fleeting, that ever I felt ; sav- ing that an other company of special good fellows, (whereof he was none of the meanest that bravely threat- ened to coniure-upp one, which should massacre Mar- tins wit, or should bee lambackd himself with ten yeares provision) [see Pappe-with-an Hatchet. Saintsbury, p. 56] would needs forsooth verye courtly persuade the Earle of Oxforde, that something in those Letters, and namely, the Mirrour of Tuscanismo, was palpably in- tended against him: whose noble Lordeship I protest I never meante to dishonour with the least preiudicial word of my Tongue, or pen but ever kept a mindefull reckoning of many bounden duties toward the same: Since in the prime of his gallātest youth, hee bestowed Angels upon me in Christes Colledge in Cambridge, and otherwise voutsafed me many gracious favours. But the noble Earle, not disposed to trouble his Jovial mind with such Saturnine paltery still continued, like his mag- nificent selfe and that Fleeting also proved, like the xxxviii JOHN LYLY. of Harvey's is dated June 19, 1580, a time almost identical with that heretofore reached as the date for the England. Harvey's complaint seems to show, then, that his work just preceded or immediately followed the England, which is dedicated to Lord Oxenford. It is barely possible, too, that Burleigh, in recognition of the praise bestowed on him in the Glasse for Europe, gave Lyly the position which in 1582' he seems, from a letter written to the Lord Treasurer, to have been holding for some time. This is, however, mere supposition. The most important reward was, of course, to be looked for from the Queen, who could hardly fail to give Lyly some recognition for flattery of her seldom, if ever, surpassed. Not long after other, a silly bullbear, a sorry puffe of winde, a thing of nothing."-Foure Letters and Certaine Sonnets. (1592). Harvey's Works. Grosart. Vol. 1. pp. 183, 184. Papp-hatchet, desirous for his benefit, to currie favour with a noble Earle; and in defecte of other meanes of Commendatiō, labouring to insinuate himselfe by smooth glosing, and coûterfait suggestiōs, (it is a Courtly feate to snatch the least occasionet of advantage, with a nimble dexteritie); some yeares since provoked me, to make the best of it, inconsiderately; to speake like a frend, unfrendly; to say, as it was, intolerably; without private cause, or any reason in the world: (for in truth I looved him, in hope praysed him, many wayes favored him, and never any way offended him)."- Pierce's Supererogation. (1589). Harvey's Works. Grosart. Vol. II. pp. 122, 123. 1589. ¹ See pp. civ-cvii. JOHN LYLY. xxxix 1 the publication of the second part of the Euphues would have been a fitting time for the Queen to entertain Lyly, as he says she did, as one of her servants by her "owne gratious favour. That she should have "strengthened" this "with con- dicions, that I should ayme all my courses at the Revells (I dare not saye with a promise, but a hopefull Item to the rev'con)" suggests some preceding success by Lyly in dramatic work. If Lyly had been a disappointed aspirant for the position of Master of the Revels, would the phrase "with condicions" rather than permis- sion or advice have been used? 2 If, now, we look at Lyly's comedies, there seems to be some reason to think that by the summer of 1580 he had done some dramatic work; that, therefore, these "condicions" had a cause. Just when John Lyly became a drama- tist is unsettled. Mr. Fleay says in 1581. Yet there is evidence which seems to point to an even earlier date. Before April 1, 1585,³ Lyly had printed two plays, Alexander and Campaspe (at first called Alexander Campaspe and Diogenes) and Sapho and Phao (entered as Sapho), and had obtained a license for, but had not printed, a third, Galatea (in the license called Tityrus and Galatea).* There is no internal evidence in ¹ See Lyly's first letter to the Queen, p. clvi. 2 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 38. 3 Idem. p. 36. 4 In this Introduction, the names of the plays, with the 2 xl JOHN LYLY. Alexander and Campaspe that makes it possible to place narrow limits within which it must have been written. The evident allegory of Sapho and Phao' shows, however, that the play must have been written after the irate departure of the Duc d'Alençon from England in February, 1582. Gallathea gives us no internal evidence as to the date of its original draft, except that it fol- lowed Sapho and Phao.' The earliest date that exception of Endymion, are spelled as they are in Blount's and Fairholt's editions. ¹ The Prince left England Feb. 6, 1582 (Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 40). For similarities between the play and incidents in the negotiations of the Prince for the hand of Elizabeth compare pp. 471-486, Camden's Annals of Elizabeth in Kennet's Complete History of England (1706), vol. II., with Sapho and Phao, particu- larly Act III. Sc. 3, Sc. 4; Act V. Sc. 2 and 3. These similarities show pretty clearly that Lyly was "glancing at court history which was recent when the play was produced. 2 "DIANA. I have Cupid, and will keepe him; not to dandle in my lap, whom I abhorre in my heart; but to laugh him to scorne that hath made in my virgins' hearts such deepe scarres.-Gallathea, Act V. Sc. 3. "VENUS. Sir boy, where have you beene? alwaies taken, first by Sapho, now by Diana; how hapneth it, you unhappie elphe ?"-Gallathea, Act V. Sc. 3. Thou "SAPHO. Sweet Cupid, strike Phao with it. shalt sit in my lap, I will rocke thee asleepe, and feed thee with all fine knackes. * * * "VENUS. I marvaile Cupid commeth not all this while. How now, in Saphoes lap! JOHN LYLY. xli these plays give, then, is after February, 1582, but a play of Lyly's, Endymion, not printed until 1591, seems from its contents to belong to this early group, and to suggest an even earlier date for dramatic work by Lyly. He who wishes an illustration of the saying Qui s'excuse, s'accuse will find it in the epilogue of Endymion : "Most High and Happy Princess, we must tell you a tale of the Man in the Moon which if it seem ridiculous for the method, or superflu- ous for the matter, or for the means incredible, for three faults we can make but one excuse. It is a tale of the Man in the Moon" (i.e., a fable, a fiction). "It was forbidden in old time to dispute of Chimæra, because it was a fiction; we hope in our times none will apply pastimes, because they are fancies; for there liveth none under the sun that knows what to make of the Man in the Moon. We present neither comedy, nor tragedy, "SAPHO. Yea, Venus, what say you to it?"-Sapho and Phao, Act V. Sc. 2. These cross-references in Gallathea (the first pointed out by Mr. Fleay, Chron. Eng. Dr., p. 41; the second not apparently noticed hitherto) show plainly that Galla- thea followed Sapho and Phao, and suggest that, even if not acted until after the first suppression of the St. Paul's boys, it was composed immediately after Sapho and Phao. Unless it was to follow that play immediately, would not such a reference to a detail, the dandling, in Sapho and Phao have been causeless? xlii JOHN LYLY. nor story, nor anything but that whosoever heareth may say this: Why, here is a tale of the Man in the Moon.' There can be no doubt that the writer of these words felt that certain places in his play would seem to the quick-witted courtiers to glance at events in court-life or in the politics of the time. Those who hold that Endymion is not a political allegory of course accept this deprecatory speech as entirely sincere, and are forced to believe that in writing a mythological comedy Lyly found himself obliged to suggest analogies which needed some apology. What in the myth he chose obliged him to do this, and why, if he feared dangerous applications of parts of his play to recent events, he left these places un- changed, are, with this view, not quite clear. One is rather driven to the other conclusion, that this deprecatory tone is not genuine, but merely calls attention to the analogies, piquing the curiosity and arousing the ingenuity of the audi- ence. The difference, too, between the tone of the prologue and the epilogue is in itself suggestive. The prologue skilfully deprecates any anger that application of parts of the play to current events might arouse, soothes in order that a hear- ing may be obtained. The epilogue is more ag- gressive. The play has been heard. Therefore 1 See p. 3. JOHN LYLY. xliii the actors speak out frankly, and, practically admitting a purpose in their work, defy their enemies, if the Queen but favor the play. "Dread Sovereign, the malicious that seek to overthrow us with threats do but stiffen our thoughts, and make them sturdier in storms; but if Your Highness vouchsafe with your favorable beams to glance upon us, we shall not only stoop, but, with all humility, lay both our hands and our hearts at Your Majesty's feet." What, then, were the applications feared by the actors, why were they feared, and who were these "malicious enemies"? 1 In 1847 the Rev. N. J. Halpin' first suggested that Endymion is a political allegory, and made a list of identifications of the dramatis persona. To him it seemed "highly probable" that En- dymion is the Earl of Leicester; Cynthia, the Queen; Tellus, the Countess of Sheffield; Eumenides, the Earl of Sussex; Floscula, the Countess of Essex; Corsites, Sir Edmund Staf- ford; and "probable" that Semele is Lady Frances Sidney; Dipsas, the Countess of Shrews- bury; Geron, the Earl of Shrewsbury. He bases his identifications on the similarity be- tween incidents in the play and in the lives of these people. Mr. Halpin's main idea, that En- 1 See p. 109. 3 2 Oberon's Vision. N. J. Halpin. Shaks. So. 1847, pp. 49-108. 3 Idem. P. 77. Wh xliv JOHN LYLY. 1 dymion is an allegory of court life, but not his whole list of identifications, has won many fol- lowers. Mr. Morley, on the other hand, rather scornfully dismisses the idea of an allegory in the play with these words: "This way of hobbling Pegasus with logs of prose has friends enough. I am not of their company. May there not be a middle course? Mr. Halpin takes the allegory too literally, too rigidly, and hence several of his identifications must be thrown out. Even if some of the figures in the play can be identified, why should that mean that Lyly must have had a living model for every person in it? Yet that is practically what Mr. Halpin assumes. Allegories, however, are rarely so complete as this, and, as we shall soon see,' the Elizabethan allegories certainly were not. More- over, even if it were possible, at this late date, to identify all of the characters of the play, that would be a comparatively useless task. The in- terest in the investigation lies in showing, not that there is a complete allegory in the play, but that Endymion is, instead of a mere airy trifle, a play with a purpose. Let us look for a moment at the similarities between facts of court history and the play. In May, 1573, Lord Leicester had secretly married at Esher, Douglas Sheffield, widow of John, sec- ond baron of Sheffield. Later “his sentiments 1 ¹ English Writers. Vol. IX. p. 204. 2 See pp. lxiii-lxiv. JOHN LYLY. xlv JV changed, and he offered Lady Sheffield £700 a year to ignore their relationship. The offer was indignantly rejected. . . . Although unable to rid himself of Lady Sheffield, he was making love to Lettice, the widowed Countess of Essex, with whose late husband, Walter Devereux, first Earl of Essex, he had been on very bad terms. Lady Essex, who was well known to the Queen, and interchanged gifts with her on New Year's Day, 1578, had long been on intimate terms with Leicester, and had stayed at Kenilworth during the festivities of 1575, while her husband was in Ireland." In "1578 Leicester, having finally abandoned all hopes of the Queen's hand, married Lettice Knollys, Countess of Essex. The cere- mony was first performed at Kenilworth, and afterwards (21 Sept. 1578) at Wanstead, in the presence of Leicester's brother, Warwick, Lord North, Sir Francis Knollys, the lady's father, and others. . . . The fact of the marriage was kept carefully from Elizabeth's knowledge, although very many courtiers were in the secret. 1 1 "Whereby [Leicester's absolute rule in the court] he holdeth, as it were a lock upon the ears of his prince, and all the tongues of Her Majestie's servants, so surely chained to his girdle, as no man dareth to speak one thing, that may offend him, though it were never so true and behoofeful for Her Majesty to know: As well as appeared in his late marriage with Dame Essex, which albeit was celebrated twice, first at Killingworth, and secondly at Wainstead in the presence of the Earl of War[w]ick, Lord North, Sir Francis Knowles, and others, • xlvi JOHN LYLY. In August, 1579,' M. de Simier, the French am- bassador, who was negotiating Alençon's mar- riage, suddenly broke the news to the Queen. Elizabeth behaved as if she were heart-broken, and three days later promised to accept Alençon on his own terms. She ordered Leicester to con- fine himself to the castle of Greenwich, and talked of sending him to the Tower, but Sussex' ad- vised her to be merciful. Leicester's friends de- clared that he voluntarily became a prisoner in his own chamber on the pretence of taking physic (see Greville's Life of Sir P. Sidney)." * 3 and this being exactly known to the whole court, with the very day, the place, witnesses, and the minister that married them together, yet no man durst open his mouth to make Her Majesty privy thereunto, until Mon- sieur Shemiers disclosed the same." Memoirs of Robert Dudley. Vol. II. p. 35. ¹ See note p. xxxiv for evidence that late July is the proper date and for an account of the interview. 2" But Sussex, though his greatest and deadliest enemy, and one that earnestly endeavoured to promote the marriage with Anjou, dissuades her [from her an- gry plans]; whilst, out of a solid judgment, and of the innate generosity of his noble mind, he was of opinion that no man was to be troubled for lawful marriage, which amongst all men hath ever been had in honour and esteem. Yet glad he was that by this marriage he [Leicester] was now put beside all hope of marrying with the Queen." Annals of Elizabeth, Camden, in Kennet's Complete History of England. 1706. Vol. 11. p. 463. 3 Dict. of Nat. Biog.: Lyly. Vol. xvI. pp. 116, 117. JOHN LYLY. xlvii A MS. note by Strype' to a letter dated Nov. 12, 1579, sent by Leicester to Lord Burleigh 1 Queen Elizabeth and Her Times. T. Wright. Vol. II. p. 103. The gist of the letter to which this note of Strype's is added is as follows: "I perceave by my brother of Warwyke, your Lord- ship hath found the like bitterness in her Majesty toward me that others (too many) have acquainted me lately withall. I must confess it greveth me not a lyttle, having so faythfully, carefully, and chargeably served her Majesty this twenty yeres, as I have done. "Your Lordship is witness, I trust, that in all her ser- vices I have bene a direct servant unto her, her state, and crown; that I have not more sought myne owne particular proffyt than her honor. Her Majesty, I see, is grown into a very strange humour, all things considered, toward me; howsoever it were trew or false, as she is informed, the state whereof I will not dyspute. Albeit, I cannot confess a greater bondage in those cases, than my dewty of allegiance oweth. Your Lordship hath bene best acquainted, next myself, to all my proceedings with her Majesty and I have ere now broken my very hart with you, and have offered, for avoyding of such blame, as I have generally in the realme, myne own exyle, that I might not be sus- pected a hinderer of that matter, [the Queen's marriage,] which all the world desired, and were sutors for. But God "I well understand from whence this cometh now, not for so good a purpose as I meant then. judge them as they intend! I wyll be found faythfull and just to her Majesty, no wrongs, dishonors, or other indygnites offered me, shall alter my dewtyfull af- fection toward her, neither wyll I acknowledge more good dealings at their hands, that have bene causers of this, than dew respect to her Majesty shall commande xlviii JOHN LYLY. states that the first anger of the Queen passed in " a month or two," and Leicester seemed me. I ever had a very honourable mynd in all my ac- tions, as neare as my capacity might dyrect me, (and with modesty be it spoken,) toward her servyce in my pore calling. Even so was it never abased in any slavish manner, to be tyed in more than unequall and unreason- able bands. 'And as I caryed myself almost more than a bondman many a yere together, so long as one dropp of comfort was left of any hope, as you yourself, my Lord, doth well know, so being acquitted and delyvered of that hope, and, by both open and pryvate protestations and decla- rations dyscharged, methinks it is more than hard to take such an occasion to beare so great dyspleasure for; but the old proverbe say the, 'they that wyll beat a dogge shall want no weapon.' This is a farr fett matter to pyck to me. "The cause is some other, I must suppose, or ells my lyfe is very wretched and unhappie. But why do I trouble your Lordship with this matter? I meant only to thank you for that you have done, and to friend me as in truth I shall be found to deserve. "For her manner toward me, I may not find lacke, I know what I have bene, and am to her in all humble dewty. She may, perhaps, forthink her benefitts be- stowed. So may I say, I have lost both youth, liberty, and all my fortune reposed in her; and, my Lord, by that tyme I have made an even reckoning with the world, your Lordship wyll not give me much for the re- mainder of my twenty yeres' service; but I trust styll, she that hath been so gracious to all, wyll not only be grievous to me. • "" Dated Nov. 12, 1579.-Idem. Vol. II. pp. 103-105. 1 JOHN LYLY. xlix to be in better terms with her; being appointed with the Lord Treasurer and some others to con- sider of the marriage. But the Queen's dis- pleasure brake out again towards the latter end of the year, and, as it seems, upon the same oc- casion; whereupon he wrote this letter, intend- ing that the Lord Treasurer should represent his humble behaviour to her Majesty under her indignation. But the letter, which he wrote at London, was not delivered to the Treasurer, being then with the Queen at Greenwich." The displeasure of the Queen did not, as we have seen,' entirely pass away until July, 1580. Now Mr. Halpin makes a good part of his identifying rest on the similarity between the im- prisonment of Leicester at Greenwich and the sleep of Endymion on the lunary bank, between. the aid given Endymion by Eumenides and that given Leicester by Sussex." The preceding pages show clearly that these incidents occurred in 1579, and in connection with the Queen's dis- covery of Leicester's marriage to the Countess of Essex, not to the Countess of Sheffield. Mr. Halpin, though he declares early in his paper " that in 1575 the news of the amour with the Countess of Sheffield was "stale news at court," uses it as if it were not stale in 1579, and later confuses incidents belonging to this early amour ¹ See note 3, p. xxxiii. "Oberon's Vision. p. 60. 8 Idem, p. 41. 1 JOHN LYLY. of Leicester's with incidents connected with his marriage with Lettice, Countess of Essex.' list of identifications, therefore, becomes of doubtful value, and the comparison between the play and incidents of the relations of Leicester and the Queen needs to be made anew. Let us now, with the history just recounted in mind, look at the play for a moment. 2 3 Endymion (Leicester), the chief noble of Cyn- thia's (Elizabeth's) court, is hopelessly in love with Cynthia (Elizabeth). In 1579 rumor had said for years that Lord Leicester wished to marry the Queen. Endymion (Leicester) is in turn beloved by Tellus (Lettice, Countess of Es- sex). He is "settled either to die, or to possess the moon [Elizabeth] herself"; his "fall, though it be desperate, shall come by daring." With "fair Tellus [the Countess] have I dissembled," he says, "using her but as a cloak for mine af- fection" (Leicester's first excuse for his con- duct), “that others, seeing my mangled and dis- ordered mind, might think it were for one that loveth me, not for Cynthia [Elizabeth], whose perfection alloweth no companion, nor compari- 1 Oberon's Vision. p. 59-64. 2 Annals of Elizabeth, Camden, in Kennet's Complete History of England. 1706. Vol. II. p. 461. ³ See p. 7. If the quotations are verified in the play, the reader will find additional evidence in support of the theory now developing. • See p. 9. JOHN LYLY. li (6 2 << son." ¹ With Tellus he certainly does dissemble. Assuring her, as Leicester must have assured the Countess of Essex, that he is in heaven itself when she is with him, and that to love her and to live" are with him synonymous, he en- deavors to lull her jealousy asleep by reminding her that the stately cedar, whose top reach- eth unto the clouds, never boweth his head to the shrubs that grow in the valley, nor ivy that climbeth by the elm can ever get hold of the beams of the sun." Cynthia" he "honors in all humility, whom none ought to dare adven- ture to love; whose affections are immortal and whose virtues infinite." 3 He begs she may set her heart at ease and suffer him " to gaze upon the moon [Elizabeth], at whom, were it not for Tellus [Countess of Essex], he should die with wondering." Certainly, these are not unlike the words with which Leicester must have excused to the Countess his coquetting with the Queen, and this is the intense adoration of the Queen from a distance which Elizabeth liked to think was the state of mind of most of her nobles. Tellus (Countess of Essex), however, is not only fond, but ambitious. If she have not the heart of a lover so distinguished, she will at least have the reputation of being his mistress; "it shall suffice" her "if the world talk that " she is "favoured of Endymion"; and she is “so op- • Idem. ? P. 25 3 P. 27. 1 P. 23. lii JOHN LYLY. ", 1 pressed with love that, neither able with beauty nor wit to obtain her friend," she "will rather use unlawful means than try intolerable pains. She will " entangle him in such a sweet net that he shall neither find the means to come out, nor desire it. All allurements of pleasure will" she "cast before his eyes, insomuch that he shall slake that love which he now voweth to Cynthia [Elizabeth] and burn in hers."" Here we have Leicester's second excuse,-fancifully stated,—that he was bewitched by Lettice's charms. The Countess of Essex was certainly "oppressed with love," for even before her hus- band's death, in July, 1576, there were evil rumors about her and Leicester. "In this languishing between" Tellus's "amorous devices and his [Endymion's] own loose desires, there shall such dissolute thoughts take root in his head, and over his heart grow so thick a skin, that neither hope of preferment, nor counsel of the wisest, nor company of the worthiest, shall alter his humor, nor make him once to think of his honor." All this Tellus hopes to accomplish through Dipsas, a sorceress. Leicester says, then, that the Countess (whom he was using merely as a cloak for his affections for Elizabeth) has done everything possible to make him love her, and 1 P. 13. 3 2 P. 12. 994 3 Annals of Elizabeth, Camden, in Kennet. Vol. II. p. 465. Memoirs of Robert Dudley. Vol. II. pp. 13, 14. • P. 13. JOHN LYLY. liii to turn aside his affection from the Queen, but that he has been thoroughly loyal and his posi- tion has been misunderstood by the Queen. The wildness of his love for the Queen and the machinations of his enemies are responsible for whatever has seemed unfitting in his past con- duct toward Elizabeth. 99 1 The power of Dipsas, however, does not ge so far as Tellus desires. There is nothing she is unable to do except that which Tellus would have her attempt; for she is "not able to rule hearts," nor "to place affection by appoint- ment. She can, indeed, “breed slackness in love, though never root it out"; and she can effect "that Cynthia [Elizabeth] should mis- trust him or be jealous of him [Leicester] with- out color." Tellus (the Countess) contents herself with this, that "seeing her love to En- dymion, unspotted, cannot be accepted, his faith to Cynthia [the Queen], though it be un- speakable, may be suspected."" Dipsas says, however, that the charm can be only temporary ; it "will wear out with time, that treadeth all things down but truth. In other words, the revelations of de Simier showing that Leicester had been deceiving the Queen while secretly married to the Countess of Essex are slanders against a man who has merely been seeking a way peacefully to maintain his absolute devotion 3 3 Idem. $ P. 22. 1 P. 21. liv JOHN LYLY. to the Queen; and Elizabeth unjustly suspects him whose love for her is unspeakable. Nor can such misrepresentation fail to be detected in time. If the allegory followed the facts of the court scandal, the treatment of Endymion by Dipsas should represent de Simier's denouncing of Lei- cester to the Queen. That would, however, have been a difficult matter to treat clearly, without giving great offence, before an audience in which there would be friends of de Simier and of the French party. Consequently, a reader finds at this point in the play a vagueness in the alle- gory to which Lyly for self-protection at times has recourse in his work. Dipsas, finding En- dymion in a position that places him at her mercy,―asleep on a bank of lunary, '—renders him inert, deadens all his faculties, by the spell of prolonged sleep. Not what de Simier did or said, but the conditions under which he spoke and the effect of his words are what Lyly allegorizes. De Simier, taking advantage of the unfortunate position in which Leicester had placed himself by his marriage to the Countess of Essex, took away, as the Earl wrote in his 1 ¹ P. 36. It is noteworthy that lunary when bound to the pulse of the sick caused, according to Lyly (see note, P35), nothing but dreams of weddings and dances. Endymion asleep on a bed of lunary may well then, allegorically, be Leicester rendered indifferent to his surroundings by his passion for the Countess of Essex. JOHN LYLY. lv "1 letter of complaint to Burleigh, "youth, liberty, and all his future, reduced Leicester to help- lessness by bringing upon him the disfavor of the Queen. But this sleep has a twofold significance, one general, the other specific, as allegorical representation so often has²: it is, not merely, in general, the disfavor of the Queen, but appa- rently, more specifically, at moments, the con- finement of Leicester to the fort at Greenwich. Even the threatened removal of Leicester to the Tower seems to be referred to in the later effort of Corsites to remove Endymion from the lunary bank to a dark cave. (6 19 3 Cynthia (Elizabeth) is deeply concerned at the fate of her worshipper (see the account of 1 ¹ For this striking resemblance between Leicester's own description of his condition under the disfavor of the Queen and that given to him by Lyly, see Leicester's letter, note, p. xlviii. 2 See p. lxii. 3" TELLUS. You know that on the lunary bank sleepeth Endymion. CORSITES. I know it. "TELLUS. If you will remove him from that place by force, and convey him into some obscure cave by policy, I give you here the faith of an unspotted virgin that you only shall possess me as a lover." Pp. 62, 63. It is, perhaps, worth notice here that on p. 75 Cor- sites, in describing to Cynthia his attempt to move Endymion from the lunary bank, slips and, referring to it as a building, says that Tellus commanded him "to remove Endymion from this cabin, and carry him to some dark cave," lvi JOHN LYLY. *** Elizabeth's anger, p. xxxiv), though naturally, in the allegory, gratitude for faithful service, not jealousy, is the cause of the concern. She banishes from her presence Tellus, who spoke harshly of Endymion, committing her to the care of Corsites. He is to convey her to the castle in the desert, there "to remain and weave.” ¹ From the time of the announcement of the secret marriage, the Countess of Essex, who had been well known to the Queen, was for years not permitted to appear at court. Cynthia sends messengers to different parts of the world to find a remedy for Endymion. Eumenides only, his friend, succeeds in the quest. 2 $ By a fountain in Thessaly, which, from the description of it, may well be called the fountain of true and disinterested love, he meets the aged Geron, who tells him that whoever can weep into the well the tears of a faithful lover will so clear the troubled waters that he shall be able to see the bottom and to have anything for which he asks. When Eumenides weeps for his beloved Semele, he sees at the bottom of the well the words: "Ask one for all, and but 1 P. 41. 2 She was "the first cousin once removed" of Eliza- beth. Her father was vice-chamberlain and, later, treasurer of the household.-Romance of Peerage. Craik. Vol. II. pp. 5-7. 3 Memoirs of the Ct. of Queen Elizabeth. Aiken. London : 1826. p. 70 and 403. JOHN LYLY. lvii one thing at all." He is then torn between his love for Semele and his friendship for Endym- ion. After a struggle friendship wins, and he asks for a cure for Endymion. Then he sees that the oracle on the marble pillar in the pool runs: “When she whose figure is of all the perfectest and never to be measured; always one, yet never the same; still inconstant, but never varying; shall come and kiss Endymion in his sleep, he shall then rise; else never." The meaning is obvious. This is the descrip- tion not only of the moon, but also of Cynthia, and she must accomplish the miracle. To her Eumenides goes with his news.' What is this, however, but an elaborate allegorical version of the part of the Earl of Sussex in releasing Leicester from his confinement at Greenwich? The two men were not friends, but they were fellow-councillors, and the struggle of Eume- nides between love and friendship is not unlike that which Sussex, who favored the marriage with the Duc d'Alençon, might be supposed to have had between his sense of justice and his desire to see a rival and opponent overcome. Eumenides goes to Cynthia as the only person capable of performing the miracle, just as Sussex, in behalf of Leicester, pleaded with the Queen, as the only person who could release the Earl. Corsites, meantime, tempted by Tellus, with 1 ¹ Pp. 52, 60. lviii JOHN LYLY. whom he has fallen in love, has tried to remove Endymion from his lunary bank to some cave.' Some of the words of Tellus in her scene with Corsites are suggestive. She has set him a task the gods themselves cannot perform," for only the Queen herself can release the Earl from his confinement. Corsites undertakes his task with fear, lest Cynthia discover their love and both perish; "for nothing pleaseth her but the fairness of virginity." Certainly, that points directly to Queen Elizabeth, for Leices- ter, Hatton, Raleigh, and others all felt the Queen's displeasure because of their marriages.' Corsites, trying to raise Endymion, is caught by fairies and pinched until he falls asleep. 4 2 Forty years are supposed to have elapsed between the time when Endymion falls asleep and the return of Eumenides with his news. Endymion (Leicester) is spoken of as "dead with life, and living, being altogether dead," even as we speak of prisoners to-day. Cynthia, hearing the oracle, kisses Endymion and wakes him that is, forgives and releases him. He then tells her what he saw in his dreams. Especially interesting is this dream, which suggests a warning against those in the court who favored the French marriage. "There, portrayed to life, with a cold quaking in every 1 Pp. 70, 71. 2 P. 63. • Oberon's Vision, note d, p. 63. 6 6 4 P. 81. 6 P. 75. • P. 80. } JOHN LYLY. lix 1 joint, I beheld many wolves barking at thee, Cynthia; who having ground their teeth to bite, with striving bleed themselves to death. There might I see Ingratitude with an hundred eyes, gazing for benefits, and with a thousand teeth gnawing on the bowels wherein she was bred. Treachery stood all clothed in white, with a smiling countenance, but both her hands bathed in blood. Envy with a pale and meagre face . . . stood shooting at stars, whose darts fell down again on her own face. There might I behold drones or beetles-I know not how to term them-creeping under the wings of a princely eagle, who, being carried into her nest, sought there to suck that vein that would have killed the eagle. I mused that things so base should attempt a fact so barbarous, or durst imagine a thing so bloody." 1 Bagoa, a servant of Dipsas, betrays the guilt of Tellus,' and Cynthia sits in judgment on the culprits. Tellus admits that the passion of Endymion (Leicester) for Cynthia (the Queen) drove her to an "extreme hate." Endymion admits the truth of all of the story of Tellus except that he has loved her and sworn to honor her. In other words, Endymion does just what Leicester must have done. He could not deny his relations with the Countess, but he could say that they did not mean any dis- 1 ¹ Pp. 84, 85. 2 P. 93. 3 P. 97. 4 P. 100. 1x JOHN LYLY. loyalty to the Queen. Endymion declares that he has "honored" Her Highness "above all the world; but to stretch it so far as to call it (6 love" he " never durst: none pleased " his “eye but Cynthia, none delighted" his "ears but Cyn- thia, none possessed" his "heart but Cynthia"; he has forsaken all other fortunes to follow Cynthia, and" stands "ready to die if it please Cynthia. Such a difference hath the gods set. between" their "states, that all" (on his part) " (6 ", 1 must be duty, loyalty, and reverence; nothing (without Your Highness vouchsafe it) be termed love." He will "spend" his "spirits" and to himself, “that no creature may hear it, softly call it love; and if any urge to utter what " he whispers, then will" he "name it honor.' What words more fitting for Leicester when eager to be restored to favor, or just in favor again; what words more likely to please the vain Queen with her weakness for this unscrupulous courtier? Cynthia (the Queen) permits Endymion's honorable respect to be christened love in him, and her reward for it, favor; bids him persevere in loving her who has studied to win all, and to keep such as she has won; and promises that if he continue as he has begun, he shall find that Cynthia shineth upon him not in vain. En- dymion now finds his "youth renewed," his "joints strengthened," and his "mouldy hairs 1 P. 101. JOHN LYLY. lxi moulted; that is, Leicester is completely re- stored to favor, is happy again. There is a strik- ing similarity between this passage and one in the letter quoted in the note on page xlviii. In the latter Leicester says, referring to the Queen: "I have lost both youth, liberty, and all my fortune reposed in her." Tellus, begging only to be still allowed to wish Endymion well, is given to Corsites; Eumenides gets Semele; Geron, Dipsas; and Sir Tophas, Bagoa.' Certainly, then, there are striking resemblances between the play, Endymion, and incidents of the quarrel between the Earl of Leicester and the Queen in 1579, and the play, as a whole, reads like a graceful compliment to the Queen that at the same time is Leicester's version of his conduct. In considering these resemblances, it is noteworthy that the chief incident in the allegory, the long sleep of Endymion from which only the kiss of Cynthia can wake him, is just such a fancy as those with which the leading courtiers flattered the gullible Queen. "To feign a dan- gerous distemper arising from the influence of her charms was deemed an effectual passport to her favor; and when she appeared displeased, 1 Pp. 101, 102. 2 In this comparison of the play with the history of the quarrel of the Queen with Leicester, Mr. Halpin's comparison has been used as a basis, but subject to de- cided changes. Oberon's Vision, pp. 52-58. lxii JOHN LYLY. the forlorn courtier took to his bed in a parox- ysm of amorous despondency, and breathed out his tender melancholy in sighs and protestations. We find Leicester, and some other ministers, endeavoring to introduce one Dyer to her favour; and the means which they employed was, to persuade her that a consumption from which the young man had with difficulty recovered was brought on by the despair with which she had inspired him.' Essex, having on one occa- sion fallen under her displeasure, became ex- ceedingly ill, and could be restored to health only by her sending him some broth, with kind wishes for his recovery. Raleigh, hearing of these attentions to his political rival, got sick in his turn, and received no benefit from any medicine till the same sovereign remedy was applied." )) 2 Nor do the facts that the allegory is not com- plete; that incidents not connected with the quarrel appear; that characteristics not those of the historical figures are given to their sup- posed representatives; spoil the argument from this similarity. This incomplete, or partial, alle- gory was a feature of the literature of Lyly's time. The words of Dean Church when writing of the allegory of The Faery Queen describe ad- mirably Lyly's Endymion, Sapho and Phao, and 1 Letter of Gilbert Talbot to the Earl of Shrewsbury. Lodge's Portraits. LI. IOI. 2 Lives of Brit. Statesmen. J. Macdiamid. I. 292-93. JOHN LYLY. lxiii (( Midas: A vein of what are manifestly contem- porary allusions breaks across the moral drift of the allegory, with an apparently distinct yet ob- scured meaning, and one of which it is the work of dissertations to find the key. . . . And in Spen- ser's allegory we are not seldom at a loss to make out what and how much was really intended, amid a maze of overstrained analogies and over-subtle conceits, and attempts to hinder a too close and dangerous identification. Indeed Spenser's method of allegory, which was historical as well as usual, and contains a good deal of history, if we knew it, often seems devised to throw curious readers off the scent. It was purposely baffling and hazy..... The personage is introduced with some feature or amid circumstances which seem for a moment to fix the meaning. But when we look for the sequence of the story, we find our- selves thrown out. . . . The real in person, inci- dent, institution, shades off into the ideal; after showing itself by plain tokens, it turns aside out of its actual path of fact and ends, as the poet thinks it ought to end, in victory or defeat, glory or failure. . . . There is an intentioned disloca- tion of the parts of the story when they might' make it imprudently close in its reflection of facts or resemblance in portraiture. A feature is shown, a manifest allusion made, and then the poet starts off in other directions, to confuse and perplex all attempts at interpretation, which might be too particular and too certain. This lxiv JOHN LYLY. was no doubt merely according to the fashion of the time, and the habits of mind into which the poet had grown. But there were often reasons for it, in an age so suspicious, and so dangerous to those who meddled with high matters of state.' That there was some danger for Lyly in his work, the reference to "malicious enemies" in the epilogue of Endymion' shows; and that in consequence he was purposely "baffling and hazy" any careful student of the text of the play will see. A good specimen of Lyly's skilful management of his allegory so that it refers now to both the moon and the Queen, now to the moon only, now to the Queen only, is Endy- mion's description of his mistress :— End. O, fair Cynthia, why do others term thee inconstant whom I have ever found im- movable? Injurious time, corrupt manners, un- kind men, who, finding a 'constancy not to be matched in my sweet mistress, have christened her with the name of wavering, waxing, and wan- ing! Is she inconstant that keepeth a settled course; which, since her first creation, altereth not one minute in her moving? There is nothing thought more admirable or commendable in the sea than the ebbing and flowing; and shall the moon, from whom the sea taketh this virtue, be accounted fickle for increasing and decreasing? ¹ Spenser. Dean Church. Pp. 169-71. 2 Pp. 107-108. 1 JOHN LYLY. lxv Flowers in their buds are nothing worth till they be blown, nor are blossoms accounted till they be ripe fruit; and shall we then say they be changeable for that they grow from seeds to leaves, from leaves to buds, from buds to their perfection? Then, why be not twigs that be- come trees, children that become men, and mornings that grow to evenings, termed waver- ing, for that they continue not at one stay? Ay, but Cynthia, being in her fulness, decayeth, as not delighting in her greatest beauty, or withering when she should be most honored. When malice cannot object anything, folly will, making that a vice which is the greatest virtue. What thing, (my mistress excepted,) being in the pride of her beauty and latter minute of her age, that waxeth young again? Tell me, Eumenides, what is he that having a mistress of ripe years and infinite virtues, great honors and unspeakable beauty, but would wish that she might grow tender again, getting youth by years, and never-decaying beauty by time; whose fair face neither the summer's blaze can scorch, nor winter's blast chap, nor the number- ing of years breed altering of colors? Such is my sweet Cynthia, whom time cannot touch because she is divine, nor will offend because she is delicate. O Cynthia, if thou shouldst always continue at thy fulness, both gods and men would conspire to ravish thee. But thou, to abate the pride of our affections, dost de- lxvi JOHN LYLY. tract from thy perfections, thinking it sufficient if once in a month we enjoy a glimpse of thy majesty; and then, to increase our griefs, thou dost decrease thy gleams, coming out of thy royal robes, wherewith thou dazzlest our eyes, down into thy swathe-clouts, beguiling our eyes.' "" 1 If any proof be needed that there is inten- tional confusion in Lyly's work, the epilogue of Sapho and Phao offers it. They that tread in a maze, walk oftentimes in one path and at last come out where they entered in. We fear we have led you all this while in a labyrinth of conceits, divers times hearing one device, and have now brought you to an end where we first began. Which wearisome travail you must im- pute to the necessity of the history, as Theseus did his labor to the art of the labyrinth. There is nothing causeth such giddiness as going in a wheel; neither can there anything breed such tediousness as hearing many words uttered in a small compass. But if you accept this dance of a fairy in a circle, we will hereafter at your wills frame our fingers to all forms, and so we wish every one of you a thread to lead you out of the doubts wherewith we leave you intangled, that nothing be mistaken by our rash oversights, nor misconstrued with your deep insights.' In other words, the work of the allegory of the 1 Pp. 7-9. )) 2 2 Lilly's Works. Fairholt. Vol. I. p. 214. F JOHN LYLY. lxvii court poet of Elizabeth's day, Spenser, and of the court dramatist, Lyly, show markedly similar characteristics; and both by incompleteness and confusion apparently seek to place on him who finds anything unfitting in their words a portion, at least, of the responsibility. It would seem, then, that the prologue and the epilogue of Endymion hint strongly that the play is an allegory written with a purpose; that a reading of the play suggests many appli- cations to incidents in the relations in 1579 of Leicester, the Countess of Essex, and the Queen; that the principal incident is just such a fancy as had often been used effectively by discountenanced courtiers to regain the favor of the Queen; and that the allegory itself seeks to confuse all but those best informed as to the private history of the court. In the play facts are “moulded with such art into a fable; the offensive realities so smoothed down into agreeable possibilities; the faults of the lover are so dexterously concealed, or 'discreetly cast into the shade'; the claims of the humbler mistress so mystified, and the charms and virtues of the Sovereign Lady painted in such bright and glowing colors, that the representation (fully warranted by the fashion of the times) could not have failed of being most gratifying to the two great personages whom it was the poet's object to please."" In other words, 1 Oberon's Vision. Halpin. p. 59. lxviii JOHN LYLY. "( (( just as when a scandal appears in a family of wealth or power, sooner or later we hear or see printed an authorized" version of the story, which makes the best of a bad case, so here, in Endymion, we seem to have a sixteenth-cen- tury "authorized" version of Lord Leicester's treatment of the Queen in his relations with the Countess of Essex. If this be true, it is easy now to see what were the "applications” by malicious enemies" feared by the actors, and why they feared them. The possible applica- tions have been pointed out in part, for doubt- less others not now evident were apparent enough to the eyes of the courtiers; the enemies were the party at court opposed to Lord Leicester and his friends; and there was special cause for fear because Leicester's oppo- sition to the French marriage had caused great bitterness against him, and when the play was given, he was either still in disfavor, but skil- fully petitioning for pardon, or but just restored to power and thanking the Queen for a clemency that might not be permanent. 1 ¹ The references Corsites and the Queen make to that officer's strength suggest that the courtiers must have recognized some well-known person in this figure. "Didst thou not, Corsites, before Cynthia, pull up a tree that forty years was fastened with roots and wreathed in knots to the ground? Didst thou not, with main force, pull open the iron gates which no ram or engine could move?" P. 71. See also p. 76. JOHN LYLY. lxix Is there, however, any evidence that Leicester would have countenanced such a method of flattering the Queen; that Lyly would have been the man to do the work; that such means were especially likely to please the Queen? There is a favorable evidential answer to all of these questions. We have seen that the breach between Lei- cester and the Queen lasted, with periods of less severity, from late July, 1579, until July, 1580.¹ That Leicester was much distressed by this dis- favor and that he sought every means to free himself from it, the letter' written in November, 1579, and the following quotation show: "We have had sufficient Trial of my Lord's fortitude in Adversity; his base and abject behaviour in his last Disgrace about his Marriage, well declar- eth what he would do in a matter of more Im- portance. His favouring and flattering of them whom he hat[et]h most, his servile Speeches, he [his] feigned and dissembled Tears, are all very well known. . . . Then and in that Necessity, no Men of the Realm were so much honoured, com- mended and served by him, as the noble Cham- berlain deceased,' and the good Lord Treasurer living; to whom at a certain time he wrote a Letter in all Fraud and false Dissimulation, and 1 ¹ See p. xxxiii. 2 See note, pp. xlvii, xlviii. ³ See treatment of Sussex as Eumenides in Endymion. Parsons published his book in 1584. Sussex died 1583. 1xx JOHN LYLY. caused the same to be delivered with great Cunning, in the sight of her Majesty, and yet so as it showed a Purpose that it should not be seen, to the end, her Highness might the rather take occasion to call for the same and read it, as she did: For Mrs. Frances Howard, to whom the Stratagem was committed, played her Part dexterously, offered to deliver the same to the Lord Treasurer, near the door of the Witch-drawing Chamber, he then coming from her Majesty; and to draw the Eye and Attention of Her Majesty the more unto it, she let fall the Paper before it touched the Lord Treasurer's Hands, by that occasion brought her Highness to call for the same. This willingness of Leicester's to win back the Queen's favor by a trick, by a little comedy indeed, suggests that he would gladly have availed himself of a skilful play like Endymion to gain, or to maintain him- self-in, the royal favor. 99 1 Moreover, the courtiers, seem to have aided Leicester in every possible way; they fairly pestered the Queen with their prayers for the re-establishing in favor of their master. 'And if you will have an evident Demonstration of this man's power and favour in that place, call but to mind the times when Her Majesty, upon most just and urgent occasions, did withdraw ¹ Memoirs of Robert Dudley. Parsons. Vol. IV. pp. 19, 20. } JOHN LYLY. lxxi but a little her wonted Favour and Countenance from him, did not all the Court as it were mu- tiny presently? Did not every Man hang the Lip? except but a few, who afterwards paid sweetly for their mirth; Were there not every Day new Devices sought out, that some should be on their Knees to her Majesty? Some should weep and put Finger in Eye; others should find out certain covert manner of Threatenings; other persons and perswasions of Love, other of profit, other of Honour, other of Necessity, and all to get him recalled back to favour again? And had her Majesty any Rest permitted unto her, until she had heard and granted the same?” ¹ These quotations must make it pretty clear that Endymion (for certainly it may be called a 'persuasion of love") was just such a means as Leicester, if anxious to win anew the favor of the Queen or to maintain himself in the royal favor but just restored to him, would have used for accomplishing his ends. (6 The special interest Lyly had in doing such allegorical work is at once apparent. If he aided the Earl in obtaining the desired ends, he might expect great rewards from him, even per- haps from the Queen, in her relief at being pro- vided with a deft explanation of an awkward situation. That Leicester's servants did work Memoirs of Robert Dudley. Parsons. Vol. II. pp. 39, 40. lxxii JOHN LYLY. (6 for just such rewards we have proof. Every falling out must have an Attonement again, whereof he being sure, by the many and puissant Means of his Friends in Court, as I have before shewed, who shall not give her Majesty rest until it be done, than [then] for this Attonement, and in perfect Reconciliation on her Majesties part, she must grant my Lord some Suit or other, which he will always have ready provided for that purpose, and this Suit shall be well able to reward his Friends, that laboured for his recon- cilement, and leave also a good remainder for himself, and that is now so ordinary a practise with him, as all the Realm observeth the same and disdaineth, that her Majesty should so un- worthily be abused.' 99 1 That Lyly should have put his somewhat daring composition into the allegorical form was very natural. It was much affected by courtiers, and in it the Queen was often ad- dressed by the poets and the writers of her time. It was a form to which Lyly, steeped as he was in classical similes and illustrations, would turn readily and naturally, for it was but maintaining the similes throughout a play. In it he could with the least chance of unpleasant results for himself and his friends treat somewhat dangerous Most important of all, Elizabeth liked allegory for itself; to be able to penetrate its matters. ¹ Idem. Vol. III. pp. 17, 18. i JOHN LYLY. lxxiii I veil pleased her vanity. Lord Burleigh, writing to Sir Robert Cecil in Dec. 1593, said: “The second poynt of your letter concerneth my former allegoricall letter written to you, in which I perceive her Majestie discovered the literall sense thereof before the mydst of it seene. must confesse that my cunning therein was not sufficient to hide the sense from her Majestie, although I thinke never a ladye besides her, nor a decipherer in the courte, would have dissolved the figure to have found the sense as her Majestie hath done. And where her Majestie alloweth of me, that I made myself merry, in very truthe I did it rather to make her some sport, (myself therein not altered, no otherwise then her Majesties lute is in her own hand, that maketh others merry, and continueth itself as it was)." 1 We have seen, then, that Lyly probably knew Leicester and was connected with his interests before the summer of 1580; that Leicester, though with at least one period of reconciliation, was badly out of favor from late in July, 1579, to July, 1580; that during this time, aided by many of the courtiers and his friends in general, he left nothing undone to excuse his conduct and to win back the favor of the Queen; that Endymion, which constantly suggests analogies 1 Queen Elizabeth and her Times. T. W. Wright. Vol. II. p. 428. lxxiv JOHN LYLY. ; to the relations of Elizabeth and Leicester at the time of their quarrel, might well be described as a a "new device" presenting "persons and persuasions of love," just what the courtiers presented to the Queen in Leicester's behalf; that in its main idea, the sleep of Endymion, it strongly resembles the devices by which Leicester in the case of Dyer, and Raleigh in his own time of disfavor, had won the sympathy of Elizabeth; that, as Burleigh's letter shows, the form was popular and comparatively safe, and suited to a well-known foible of the Queen. Certainly, after all this is carefully considered, there can be little doubt that Endymion is a genuine allegory treating the relations of Leicester, the Countess of Essex, and the Queen in 1579.. Even, however, among those who have ac- cepted the idea that Endymion is an allegorical treatment of the quarrel of Leicester and the Queen, there is a difference of opinion as to the date of the composition of the play. For this reason, the editor, in the preceding pages, has deferred until this part of the Introduction any discussion of the question, suggested much earlier, whether Endymion was written to reinstate Leices- ter in favor or in celebration of his reinstatement. Evidently, if the reasoning of the preceding dis- cussion as to the nature of the play be accepted, it points to a date between July, 1579, and not long after July, 1580, when the final reconciliation took, place, as the time of the production of Endymion. JOHN LYLY. lxxv 2 Early editors,' particularly those who did not know of, or who did not believe in, the idea of a political allegory in Endymion, are non-com- mittal as to its original date of performance. Mr. Fleay, who accepts fully the idea that the play is a political allegory treating the quarrel between Leicester and the Queen, seems to think that the first of February, 1588, is the date of its original production. This date he gets, apparently, by taking the statement of the title- page of the original edition that the play was given at Candlemas at Greenwich,' and looking for that date in the records of the court per- formances. But, in the first place, Candlemas Day should give him Feb. 2, not Feb. 1; and, in the second place, his own list of court per- formances in his History of the Stage, does not provide him with a performance by the St. Paul's boys at Court on Feb. 2, 1588. The "Extract from the Accounts of the Revels at Court" tells us that in 1588 the "Children of Poles " acted before the Queen at Greenwich, but how 5 ¹ Dilke speaks only (see vol. I. p. 200 of Collection of Old English Plays) of its date of publication, 1591. Mr. Fairholt does not commit himself as to the exact date, but, following the order of publication, prints En- dymion just after Sappho and Phao. Vol. 1, p. xxvii. 2 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 41. 8 Lilly's Works. Fairholt. vol 1. p. xxviii. 4 Hist. of Stage. Fleay. p. 76. 5 Revels at Court. p. 198. lxxvi JOHN LYLY. often, when, in what plays, by what authors, these are not told. Certainly, then, to assign Endymion to Feb. 2, 1588, is a pretty arbitrary proceeding. 1 That it is necessary or even possible to give so late a date as 1587-90 to the play seems, in the light of the evidence already produced and a few additional facts, hard to accept. Granted that the play is an allegory, why is it more prob- able that it was first produced seven or eight years after the quarrel between the Queen and Leicester was over, when the two, long friends again, had even quarrelled anew, but this time over matters in the Low Countries, not love affairs; when Sussex, to whom a graceful com- pliment is paid in Eumenides of the play, had been dead four or more years; when even Lei- cester himself was either near his end or dead?³ What reason could there be for the first produc- tion of the play at this time? On the other hand, look at the array of reasons that has been given for the production of just such a play in 1579-80: a reason why Leicester should have been glad to have such a play given, to state his version of a court scandal; why Lyly should have been glad to write it at the time, because 2 ¹ In 1586. Philip Sidney. H. R. Fox Bourne. pp. 324, 325. 2 He died in June, 1583. Romance of the Peerage. G. Craik. Vol. 1. p. 108. ³ He died in 1588. Philip Sidney. Fox Bourne, p. 358. JOHN LYLY. lxxvii it would greatly advance his interests with Lei- cester, and probably with the Queen; why it should have pleased the Queen,—because, while flattering her in the most fulsome way, it gave a very convenient interpretation of some awkward facts; why it should have deeply interested all the court, because the quarrel was still one of the chief interests at court. Not one of these reasons holds good by 1587. Moreover, that the play did not appear in print until 1591 means nothing as to the time of its composition. Any student of the Eliza- bethan drama knows that plays were jealously guarded by the companies of actors owning them, and usually went to press only when the disbanding of a company or a change in popular taste made the plays no longer useful to their owners. Therefore, a play printed in 1591 might perfectly well, if it had been popular, have been written years before and jealously guarded from the printer by the actors. Indeed, we know that only under just the two conditions named above, i.e., when the children's companies were not acting in public, or a change of taste rendered the plays of less interest, were any of Lyly's plays published.' The history of Galla- thea, licensed April 1, 1585,' but held from the press when the St. Paul's boys were revived as a company, April 26, 1585, and not published S ¹ See pp. cxxiii, cxxvi-cxxvii, cxlix-clii, clxvi. * Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 38. * See pp. cxxv. lxxviii JOHN LYLY. until 1591, when the St. Paul's boys were again silent,' shows that Endymion, too, might per- fectly well have been written before 1584, when Lyly first published some of his plays, and kept from the press, like Gallathea, because of the re- vival of the St. Paul's company in 1585, until the company was forbidden to act in its theatre in or near 1591. When we add the fact that the plays of the first group sent to the printer,-Alexander and Campaspe, Sapho and Phao, and Tityrus and Galatea or Gallathea, which bridges the two periods 1579-1584 and 1585-1591,—have a very marked euphuism which Midas and Mother Bombie,' plays, as all critics admit, of the period from 1587-1591, have not, and that this euphuism is especially strong in Endymion, the evidence for an early date for the allegory gains strength. The evidence, then, that favors plac- ing Endymion between 1579 and 1584, when Lyly first published some of his plays, is both internal and external, from style, contents, and analogy. That Blount in his, the first collected edition 1 ¹ See pp. clvi-clxiv. 2 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. pp. 41-42. The date of Love's Metamorphosis has never been thoroughly settled. As a later discussion, pp. xcvii-xcviii, shows, it followed Gallathea, which it much resembles, and very probably belongs to the first period. JOHN LYLY. lxxix 2 of Lyly's plays,' places them, with the exception of Endymion, in the order of their publication and in that which recent critical study of the external and internal evidence as to their dates of composition assigns to them, but takes Endymion from its place in the order of publica- tion and puts it first, suggests a still further limi- tation of the period for the composition of the play. Why, when he places all the rest cor- rectly, did he place this first if it belongs later? This query gains force when we note that in writing Endymion Lyly's mind was full of the similes and expressions which he used in his two books of the Euphues and that he makes frequent use of them. Any student of literature knows that such repetitions mean that the second composition was written before the mind of the author had entirely put aside the first, not when, as Mr. Fleay's theory would require, seven or - ¹ He does not include Love's Metamorphosis and The Woman in the Moon. 2 See pp. xcviii and cxlix-clii. 8 The fish of Cynthia referred to in Endymion, p. 24, is named and described p. 89, Arber. The Olympian wrestler of p. 26 is used similarly as an illustration in the dedication to Lord Oxenford, p. 216, Arber. The "Hares on Athos" of p. 57 appear on p. 76 of the first part of the Euphues. For the "Quod supra vos," etc., of p. 16 see p. 54, Arber. The epilogue of Endymion is but a restatement of the story of the wind, the sun, and the man given at length in the England. Arber, p. 472. 1xxx JOHN LYLY. eight years, 1579-1580 to 1587-88, must have lain between the two pieces of writing; not even when fresh work stood between the author and the Euphues and his England. The effect of these two considerations, the order in Blount and the resemblances between the Euphues and Endymion, is to connect the second part of the Euphues and Endymion closely. What, then, are the narrowest limits within which all this evidence places the original pro- duction of Endymion? Certainly not earlier than the break with the Queen in late July, 1579, and the imprisonment of Leicester; and not long enough after the complete reconciliation in July, 1580, and the appearance of part two of the Euphues for new interests at the court to have made the scandal of little interest and for new work to have cleared Lyly's mind of the partic- ular figures and similes which he had used in his two parts of the Euphues. By January, 1581, however, the quarrel with Leicester was an old story; the Euphues and his England had passed through a second edition; and Lyly, as we shall see,' was probably busy with new plays. It will be seen at once that if we can decide whether the play was given to reinstate Leicester in power or as a thanksgiving for re- instatement, we can still further limit the time of the original production. If it was written to 1 1 English Reprints: Lyly. p. 29. 2 See p. xcviii. JOHN LYLY. lxxxi restore Leicester to favor, certainly the play, with its references to the imprisonment, to the work of Sussex as intermediary, to the power of release of the Queen, would have been most appropriately given between the end of July, 1579, and the release, “a month or two "¹ after, of Leicester, and his temporary restoration to favor. Though he soon fell into disfavor once more, he was not again imprisoned, and hence, on the supposition that the play was a prayer for forgiveness and release, it could hardly have been given after the first restoration of Leicester to favor. If, on the other hand, we interpret the play as a gracefully arranged compliment to the Queen, thanking her for release and restoration to favor, what time would have been so fitting for the play as just after the first restoration of Leicester to favor? After he fell into disfavor again, he was not really restored to the Queen's good graces until July, 1580, and if the play was given after that date the references to the im- prisonment, to the work of Sussex, in a word, to the events of August and September, 1579, would have been far less significant and effective. Whatever the interpretation given to the pur- pose of the play, then, it seems most likely that it was given between late July, 1579, and the second disgracing of Leicester, which, as Strype's words and Leicester's letter show, had occurred by November 12, 1579.2 ¹ See p. xlviii. 2 See pp. xlvii-xlix. lxxxii JOHN LYLY. Study of the text of the play will probably convince a reader that it was written to thank the Queen for what she had done, not to suggest what she should do. It allegorizes what had taken place, not what should be done. The figure of Eumenides with its allegorical representation of the action of Sussex in itself settles the matter, for the whole significance of the figure rests in his release of Endymion, and there is no release unless the favor of Cynthia, Elizabeth, is sup- posed to have been won. All this means, of course, that the play was, from internal evidence, probably given between the first restoration of Leicester to favor and his second disgrace, which had taken place by November 12, 1579. It seems possible to narrow even these limits a little. November 1, 1579, we find in the Revels' accounts this entry by Tylney, made Master of the Revels in the July preceding: Edmund Tylney esquier M' of the said Offyce . . for his Attendaunce, botehyer and other chardges to and from the Court at Greenewiche by the space of ij monethes and more by Comaundem for settinge downe of dyverse de- vises to Receave the Freenche. When we re- member that it was late in July before de Simier announced that the Prince would come to Eng- land early in August, we see the quotation shows. 2 99 1 1 Extracts from Accounts of Revels at Court. Old Shaks. So. p. 159. For date, see p. 103. See note p. xxxiv. JOHN LYLY. lxxxiii 99 1 that from late in July until late September or early October Tylney was busy at Greenwich with entertainments for the French visitors. During this time occurred the imprisonment, and, since the imprisonment lasted only "a month. or two," the release and temporary restoration to favor, of Leicester. Indeed, we find that on Oct. 2, 1579, Leicester was debating the mar- riage question as one of the chief councillors, and on Oct. 6 completely shifted his position, and said that "councillors may change their opinions on good cause, and Her Majesty was to be followed.' These facts show that by Oct. I he was again in favor, and hint the cause of his change of opinion. The time of this short reconciliation, from before Oct. 2 to a date before Nov. 12, would, as has been shown, be the most fitting for the production of Endymion. What better time for a deft statement of the way in which the quarrel of the great favorite and the Queen should be spoken of than when Leicester, just restored to favor, was expected, as Stype states,² to move freely and amicably among the French, and to work for the marriage to the Duc d'Anjou, opposition to which had originally caused his downfall? Was not some such state- ment much needed at the moment, some such authorized version, in this complete change in Leicester's position? If, too, from late July till ¹ State Papers. Murdin. Vol. II. pp. 334, 335. 2 See p. xlix. lxxxiv JOHN LYLY. early October Tylney was managing at Green- wich entertainments for the French, is it not probable that one of them was this Endymion? If it was given, under Tylney's supervision, before the Queen and the French guests, when Leicester, but just restored to favor and re- quested to aid in arranging the marriage he had steadily opposed, was watched suspiciously by the French party, the reader sees why the pro- logue of Endymion is so cautious,' why the epi- logue refers to "malicious enemies," and-be- cause the story has at any rate been heard—has the ring of triumph in it. All this means, then, that there is evidence which strongly favors plac- ing the original production of Endymion not only between late July, 1579, and November 12, 1579, but also since the imprisonment lasted" a month or two" after late July and Tylney finished his work in early October-in the month of Septem- ber, or very early in October, 1579. 2 It will be seen that this date accords well with what has been pointed out as to other events in Lyly's career. It means that Endymion, with its figures and similes that are the same as figures and similes in both parts of the Euphues,' was first acted after the publication of the Anatomie of Wit and before the publication of the England, 1 See p. 3. 2 See pp. 108, 109. 3 See p. lxxix, note 3. JOHN LYLY. lxxxv 2 1 but when all of the England, except possibly the Glasse for Europe, had been written for some months. In other words, it stands just where from these similarities we expected it to stand, in close connection with the two books, with no other publication between it and them, for royal disfavor for Lyly's friends stood between the Anatomie and it on one side and the England and it on the other. It will be noticed, too, that the phrasing of the Queen's recommendation to Lyly to try for the Mastership of the Revels, which was tentatively assigned to the summer of 1.580,' suggested some preceding dramatic work by Lyly, and this assignment of Endymion to September, 1579, provides such work. That the play, if successful in September, 1579, did not at once improve the fortunes of Lyly and lead him to print the second part of the Euphues is easily explained, for very shortly after the play was given Leicester was again out of favor, and the reasons that checked the progress of Lyly in July, 1579, but held more strongly against him when more than ever he must have been asso- ciated in the Queen's mind with the refractory Earl. Until Leicester was again in favor, in July, 1580, Lyly could hardly have expected from the Queen any recognition of his services, and would hardly have ventured to put forth his Euphues and his England. 1 ¹ See p. xxxiii seq. 2 See pp. xxxviii, xxxix. lxxxvi JOHN LYLY. Just here a reader may object that September, 1579, ill accords with the dates for court per- formances given on the title-pages of early edi- tions of Endymion. The first edition has on its title-page: "Play'd before the Queene's Majestie at Greenwich on Candlemas day at night, by the Chyldren of Paules "-that is, February second.' Blount's reprint of the play bears the same state- ment except that Candlemas Day becomes "New Yeeres Day." The fact, however, that these dates do not accord with the evidence produced is of little importance. In the first place, any student of the Elizabethan drama knows that the date on the title-page of a play by no means necessarily means the time of its first perform- ance; it may mean the date of a revival, or the time at which the MS. which served as copy" was used. Apparently the printer of the original edition and Blount used different MSS. as copy," for we have the two dates, "Candlemas Day" and "New Yeeres Day." What proof is there that the original edition was printed from an earlier MS. than the other or from the original MS.? Why have we more right to fasten on one of these dates rather than the other as the time, not of a revival-though evidently the play was given twice, at least-but of the original pro- duction? Moreover, when we try to fit these (C Vol. I. p. xxvii. 1 Lilly's Works. Fairholt. Vol. I. 2 Idem. P. I. JOHN LYLY. lxxxvii days to a year and to place the play in the Revels' accounts, we meet with nothing strongly opposing September, 1579, as the date of the original production. A student naturally thinks of Jan. 1, 1580, or Feb. 2, 1580, as a possible date that would accord with the title-pages and with much of the argument developed in this Intro- duction, but examination of the Revels' accounts shows that on Jan. 1, 1580, the Earl of Warwick's Servants gave "A History of the foure sonnes of Fabyous"; that on Feb. 2, on Feb. 2, 1580, the Lord Chamberlain's Servants gave "The history of Portio and Demorantes "; and that both per- formances took place, not at Greenwich, but at Whitehall.' Nor can any performance by the St. Paul's boys at court that may be assigned to Candlemas Day or New Year's Day be found in the records from 1580 to 1588. Even in 1588 we read only that between Christ- mas and Shrovetide several companies gave plays before the Queen at Greenwich, but not which company acted on each feast-day. Not until 1590 is Jan. 1 distinctly given as a date for a performance at court by the St. Paul's boys.³ Then we are not given the name of the play or of the author. Why 1588-90 is too late a date 1 Extracts from Accounts of Revels at Court. Old Shaks, So. pp. 154, 155. 2 Idem, passim; and also pp. 28-31 and 76, Hist. of Stage. Fleay. 3 Hist. of Stage. Fleay. p. 77. lxxxviii JOHN LYLY. for the original production of Endymion has already been shown.' It seems, therefore, more probable that both these dates, "Candlemas. Day” and “New Yeeres Day," refer to late revivals of the play rather than to the original performance; and they do not stand in the way of September, 1579, as the date for the original production of Endymion." There is certainly another possible objection to placing the first performance of Endymion in September, 1579, slight though it is. In the dedication of the England to Lord Oxenford, Lyly says, "I have brought into the worlde two children," and it may be held that this excludes the possibility of a production of Endymion be- fore the second Euphues appeared. The objec- tion is not, however, very convincing, for Lyly is evidently preparing here for the antithesis that is to follow immediately between part one and part two of the Euphues,* and he would not have been 1 ¹ See p. lxxvi. 2 Since the Revels' Accounts never mention the name of Lyly or any of his plays, they can be of little value, unless corroborated by internal evidence in the plays or other external evidence, in settling the date of the original production of any of Lyly's comedies. See p. lxxv. 3 English Reprints: Lyly. p. 214. ♦ Idem. "I have brought into the worlde two chil- dren, of the first I was delivered, before my friendes thought mee conceived, of the second I went a whole yeare big, and yet when everye one thought mee ready to lye downe, I did then quicken." 1 JOHN LYLY. lxxxix Lyly had he lost it for the mere accuracy that would require mention of a play as yet un- printed. Indeed, since Endymion had not been printed, he could in a sense strictly say, "I have brought into the worlde two children." Add to this the possibility that even the dedication of the book may antedate Endymion, may have been ready when the England was first entered for publication, and simply delayed with the rest of the volume. We then see that when so many interpretations favorable to the September date are as plausible as the one that is unfavorable, that cannot greatly weaken the force of the cumulative evidence of the preceding pages in favor of the idea that Endymion lies between the publication of the first and the second part of the Euphues; that it was written in support of Leicester, whose quarrel with the Queen delayed the appearance of the second part of Euphues ; that, probably, it was given originally in late September or early October, 1579, at Greenwich, and revived years afterwards both on Candlemas Day and New Year's Day at the same place. The ideas developed in the preceding pages, if accepted even tentatively, will be seen at once to fit in well, as has been said,' with what we know of Lyly. They account at least as well as the old theory for the delay of the second part of the Euphues for almost a year; ¹ See p. xxxiii. XC JOHN LYLY. give Lyly a strong reason for wishing to rein- state Leicester in favor, for writing Endymion; offer a date for Endymion that fits the allegory in it; show that, naturally, if new difficulties fol- lowed the reconciliation of September, Lyly would still delay the Euphues and his England until all possibility of disfavor was past, until the summer of 1580; and show, too, why, when the Queen "entertained" him as her servant, she "strengthened" this "with condicions, that I should ayme all my course at the Revels,"'—be- cause he had written a clever play that helped to relieve her from an embarrassing position. Was not the time when the royal favor finally came back to Leicester and his friends just the moment for Lyly to put forth his long- delayed work? Would it not, too, have been very natural for him, remembering how suc- cessfully he had flattered the Queen in Endy- mion, to add to his new book the similar flattery of the Glasse for Europe,-which, as we have seen, internal evidence in the Euphues and his England suggests may be an addition. to the text as it originally stood? That the pub- lication of the England preceded the recom- mendation of the Queen to try for the Master- ship of the Revels the following suggests. Had the Queen shown Lyly any marked favor, "en- 2 ¹ See p. clvi, for Lyly's first begging letter to the Queen. 2 See p. xxx. JOHN LYL Y. xci tertained" him as her servant" before the second part of the Euphues appeared, Lyly would have been likely in the Glasse to refer to her favor, he carefully acknowledges the kindness shown him by Lord Burleigh. This would be true whether the Glasse were first written in 1579 or just before the publication of the Euphues and his England, in the summer of 1580; for if it dated back to the former year, we know that a hasty revision was made' to bring the book up to date, and it would have been very simple and very wise to slip in a few words of thanks to the Queen. It seems most probable, then, that when Elizabeth and Leicester were at last com- pletely reconciled and Lyly had published his England, the Queen, willing to extend her favor to Leicester's followers, was especially gracious to that one who had done much to help her and her favorite out of an awkward position and had just praised her publicly as even she was rarely praised. She "entertained" him as her (( 2 servant,” and, recalling his success with En- dymion, advised him to try for the Mastership of the Revels. It will be seen later that the summer or fall of 1580 as the date of this advice accords well with the date that best fits the ¹ See pp. xxvii-xxviii. 2 See Parsons' words as to Leicester's method of re- warding his friends through the bounty of the Queen, p. lxxii.. 3 See pp. clix-clxvi. xcii JOHN LYLY. letter in which this advice is spoken of as ten years old. It will be seen, then, that by 1581, Lyly, probably one of Lord Leicester's party, was well established at court. His Anatomie of Wit and his Euphues and his England had each passed through more than one edition,' and had made him a prominent figure. By his Endymion he had put forward claims as a dramatist, and these had been recognized by the Queen in her recom- mendation, when she entertained him as her servant, probably in 1580, that he should try for the Mastership of the Revels. In brief, then, as courtier, novelist, and dramatist, Lyly was, apparently, well launched in his career by Janu- ary, 1581. The words "enterteyned yor Mats S'vant" certainly suggest that Lyly was given some position in the Queen's service. Possibly, even thus early he was made Vice-Master of the St. Paul's choristers, a position that in 1589 he had, apparently, been holding for some time. Gabriel Harvey in the second part of Pierce's Superero- gation, written in 1589, but not printed until 1593,' said of Lyly: "He hath not played the 1 See under Texts in Bibliography. 2 Though Pierce's Supererogation was not printed until 1593, the portion of it referring to Lyly is dated Nov. 5, 1589 (see vol. II. p. 221, Grosart's Harvey; and vol. III. pp. 184, 185 of his Nash). Pappe-with-an-Hatchet, which was the cause of Harvey's wrath against Lyly, and is JOHN LYLY. xciii I Vicemaster of Poules, and the Foolemaster of the Theater for naughtes; himselfe a mad lad, as ever twanged, never troubled with any sub- stance of witt, or circumstance of honestie, sometime the fiddle-sticke of Oxford, now the very bable of London." The title-pages of Lyly's plays tell us that all of them, except The Woman in the Moone, the actors in which are not named, were given by the St. Paul's boys; and the prompt cessation of the publication of Lyly's plays when the St. Paul's boys were revived as a company in 1585,2 suggests a close connection between the dramatist and the company. When, however, a student turns to the records of St. Paul's Cathedral for corroborative evidence, he meets with the same result which consulta- tion of the accounts of the revels at court gave him, he does not find any mention of Lyly.³ constantly referred to in the second part of the Superero- gation, was published in September, 1589. See p. cxxxvi seq. 1 Harvey's Works. Grosart. Vol. II. p. 212. 2 See pp. cxxiv-cxxvi. 3 In regard to this matter the Rev. W. Sparrow Simpson, Librarian of St. Paul's Cathedral, writes to the editor: "I see no reason why Lily should not have been Gyles' [Thomas] assistant, or vice-master, but I am not able to adduce any evidence on the point. Mr. Maxwell Lyle has carefully calendered our Cathe- dral Records, but the name of Lily does not occur in his copious Index. He would have been fully alive to the importance of the name had he met with it in his researches." • xciv JOHN LYLY. Yet, since we know that the man whose name is never mentioned in the Revels' accounts often gave his plays at court, this failure to find Lyly's name on the St. Paul's records hardly rules out the indirect testimony of Harvey. 2 By 1584, when Lyly began to publish his plays, he had written at least four. It has been shown that the date of Endymion is, probably, late September or early October, 1579; in 1584 Alexander and Campaspe and Sapho and Phao were printed; on April 1, 1585, Tityrus and Galatea was licensed.' According to the original title-pages the second and third plays were given before the Queen by the Children of the Chapel and the Children of Paul's, apparently united for the performances. Even Endymion may have been given originally by the two com- panies, for the title-pages stating that the play was given by the Paul's boys on Candlemas Day and New Year's Day have been shown to refer, probably, to revivals of the play. 3 Whether ¹ Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 36. 2 The first and third editions of Alexander and Cam- paspe bear the statement: " Played before the Queen's Majesty on Twelfth Day at Night, by Her Majesty's Children and the Children of Paul's." The second edi- tion simply changes the date to New Year's Day, at night. The title-page of the first edition of Sapho and Phao reads: 'Played before the Queen's Majesty, on Shrove Tuesday, by Her Majesty's Children and the Children of Paul's." Fairholt. Vol. II. pp. xxvi, xxvii. 3 See pp. lxxxvi-lxxxviii. JOHN LYLY. XCV Tityrus and Galatea had been acted has been doubted. As has been said,' there is nothing in Alexander and Campaspe to aid us decidedly in dating its original production; the internal evi- dence of Sapho and Phao shows that the play must have appeared not long after "Monsieur's " irate departure from England, Feb. 6, 1582; and the text of Gallathea in the main plot shows that this play followed Sapho and Phao closely. 2 There is, too, a reference to Gallathea in a fifth play, Love's Metamorphosis. This is very similar to Gallathea, and is neither an allegory on political matters, as are Endymion, Sapho and Phao, and Midas, nor a comedy on the Terentian 1 ¹ See pp. xxxix-xl. Attempts (see Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. pp. 39-42) to place in the "Accounts of the Revels at the Court" the original performances of these plays of Lyly's seem pretty hopeless, for, as has been pointed out (pp. lxxxvi-lxxxviii), first of all, we are not sure that the title-pages give us the date of the first performance at court, and, in the second place, in the records neither the name of Lyly nor that of one of his plays is men- tioned. Why Mr. Fleay's date for the original perform- ance of Endymion cannot be accepted has been shown at length; why his dates for Gallathea and Love's Meta- morphosis cannot be accepted will be seen in a moment in the text; to place Alexander and Campaspe he is forced to make " New Year's Day at night" mean New Year's eve. His date that most commends itself is Feb. 27 (Shrove Tuesday), 1582, for Sapho and Phao, but even that entry is for the Chapel Children only, in an un- named play by an unnamed author. * See Fairholt's Lilly. Vol. II. p. 226. xcvi JOHN LYLY. model, like Mother Bombie, but a tale of gods and goddesses which now and then compli- ments the Queen or mirrors her qualities. For these references to be significant, Love's Meta- morphosis must have followed, or have been intended to follow, Gallathea closely. Yet Tityrus and Galatea, licensed in 1585, was not published until 1592'; the play contains references to the annus mirabilis, 1588," which, spoken in 1582-83, at least four years before the prophecies in regard to 1588 were filling the minds of the common people,' would have had no significance; and Love's Metamorphosis did not appear in print until 1601. Mr. Fleay's suggestion that Gallathea, though written before 1584, was revised later, gives the clue to a means of reconciling the apparently conflicting evidence. 5 If a student reads Gallathea carefully, he will see that the play divides into two parts,-the 1 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 36. 2 “AstronomeR [to Raffe, the page]: “I can tell thee what weather shall be between this and octogessimus octavus mirabilis annus." Act III. Sc. 3. RAFFE. "He [the astronomer] told me a long tale of octogessimus octavus, and the meeting of the conjunc- tions and planets." Act V. Sc. 1. 3 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 41. The prophecies were current in 1587. See T. Tymme's A New Year's Gift. 4 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 37. • Idem. p. 41. JOHN LYLY. xcvii story of Gallathea and her nymphs; and the doings of the pages and their masters. Until the last page of the play is reached there is no attempt to unite the plots, and then the union is managed in a very rough and inartistic way. Only in the comic sub-plot is there any reference to the year, 1588; only in this part of the play is Lincolnshire named.' In other words, the confusion that resulted when gods and goddesses seemed to disport themselves in Lincolnshire, and a play, supposedly written in 1582 or 1583, made references to matters that did not interest the public at so early a date, disappears when we see that the internal evidence of the play supports the idea that the main plot-of Galla- thea and her nymphs-belongs before 1584; was licensed, whether with or without a sub-plot we do not know, April 1, 1585; was withheld from the press when the St. Paul's boys were at the end of the month again allowed to act; and was prepared for a performance shortly before 1588 by the addition of a sub-plot which referred to matters of interest at the moment. If, now, the main plot of Gallathea was written before 1584,-when Lyly first published some of his plays,—and if Love's Metamorphosis makes cross- references to this main plot of Gallathea, we face an alternative. Either the main plot of ¹ See pp. 226, 248, and 262. Lilly's Works. Fairholt. ? See p. cxxv. xcviii JOHN LYLY. Gallathea was acted before 1584, and Love's Metamorphosis, if not acted, was at any rate written; or when Gallathea was given with its new sub-plot, 1585-90, Love's Metamorphosis immediately followed it, and the cross-reference was significant. But when we find three plays in which Cupid is an important figure re- ferring to one another-Gallathea to Sapho and Phao; Love's Metamorphosis to Gallathea,-do we not usually believe that we are considering a series in which each play closely followed that to which it refers? For this reason, there is probability in the idea that Sapho and Phao, Gallathea, and Love's Metamorphosis, were all written before 1584, and all, except perhaps the last, had surely been acted. The result of this examination is, then, to place the time of com- position of five plays-Endymion, Alexander and Campaspe, Sapho and Phao, Gallathea, and Love's Metamorphosis—apparently before 1584. During this period from 1580-1584, we get glimpses of Lyly apart from his dramatic work. If, as Harvey complained,' Lyly, early in his career, in 1580, did mix in just such a court in- trigue, in regard to the Mirrour of Tuscanismo, as those of which later he speaks scornfully in his plays, it is not surprising. The young man of twenty-seven must, after the successful publica- tion of the second part of the Euphues and the ¹ See pp. xxxvii-xxxviii. JOHN LYLY. xcix favor shown him by the Queen, have been recog- nized as one of the most brilliant of the young writers of his day, and may quite naturally have lost his head for the moment. According to his contemporaries Lyly was a small man,' a great consumer of tobacco,' and very witty. At about 3 1" He that hath threatdned to conjure up Martin's wit, hath written some thing too, in your praise, in Pap- hatchet: for all you accuse him to have courtlie incenst the Earle of Oxford against you. Marke him well: hee is but a little fellow, but hee hath one of the best wits in England. Should he take thee in hand againe (as he flieth from such inferiour concertation), I prophecie that there woulde more gentle Readers die of a merrie mortality, ingen- dred by the eternall iests he would maule thee with, than there have done of this last infection. I my self, that inioy but a mite of wit in comparison of his talēt, in pure affection to my native country, make my stile carry a presse saile, am fain to cut off half the streame of thy sport-breeding confusion, for feare it shoulde cause a generall hicket throughout England."-Nash's Works: Strange News of the Intercepting of Certaine Letters. (1593.) Grosart. Vol. II. p. 240. કે For Master Lillie (who is halves with me in this in- dignitie that is offred) I will not take the tale out of his mouth, for he is better able to defend himselfe than I am able to say he is able to defend himselfe, and in as much time as hee spendes in taking Tobacco one weeke, he can compile that which would make Gabriell repent himselfe all his life after. With a black sant he meanes shortly to bee at his chamber window, for calling him the Fid- dlesticke of Oxford. Nash's Works: Have with you to Saffron-Walden (1596). Grosart. Vol. III. p. 204. 3 See note I. 1598, speaks of “ Francis Meres in his Palladis Tamia, eloquent and wittie John Lyly"; and C JOHN LYLY. this time (1580) he was apparently living in or fre- quenting the Savoy region, for in Pierce's Super- erogation (1589) Harvey says: "Pap-hatchet, for the name of thy good nature is pittifully growen out of request, and thy olde acquaint- ance in the Savoy when young Euphues hatched the egges, that his elder freendes laide, (surely Euphues was someway a pretty fellow would God, Lilly had alwaies bene Euphues, and never Pap-hatchet;) that old acquaintance, now some- what straungely saluted with a new remembrance, is neither lullabied with thy sweet Papp, nor scarrecrowed with thy sower hatchet."' 2 It is pretty safe to assume that so prominent a figure in the literary world from 1580-1590 knew in the Savoy and elsewhere practically all of the writers of the day, and that the Queen's dramatist knew pretty nearly every one of importance at court. Robert Greene he evidently knew well.' Nash, who came up to London from Cambridge in 1588, seems in his early literary life to have looked to Lyly as a kind of mentor. Knowing these two men well, Lyly probably knew the See Harvey's 3 Harvey even in his anger grants him wit. Works, vol. II. pp. 124, 125, 212, 213. ¹ Harvey's Works. Grosart. Vol. II. pp. 124, 125. 2 Harvey says that Lyly induced Greene to write against him; and Nash speaks of Greene as if he was regularly one of the group interested in that quarrel. See p. cxli. Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 124. 4 See p. xcix, notes I and 2. JOHN LYLY. ci others whose names are most associated with them, Lodge, Peele, and Marlowe. Elderton and Tarleton Lyly probably knew.' Thomas Watson, author of the Passionate Centurie of Love, was evidently one of his group of friends.” Lyly's relations with the Harveys have already been referred to, and will be taken up more in detail later. Dr. Andrews, afterwards Arch- bishop Andrews, is mentioned by Nash as a man whom Lyly deeply admired.* 3 Pappe-with-an Hatchet. Saintsbury. p. 52. Nash's Works. Vol. II. p. 267. 2 See the letter quoted on the next page and the follow- ing mention of Watson, who died in 1592, by Nash in Have with you to Saffron-Walden, 1596. “To a bead-roll of learned men and Lords hee appeales, whether he be an asse or no, in the forefront of whom he puts M. Thomas Watson, the poet. A man he was that I dearely lov'd and honor'd, and for all things hath left few his equalls in England: he it was that, in the company of divers Gentlemen one night at supper at the Nags head in Cheape; first told me of his vanitie, and those Hexa- meters made of him. "But o what newes of that good Gabriell Harvey, Knowne to the world for a foole and clapt in the Fleet for a Rimer." 8 -Nash's Works. Grosart. Vol. III. p. 187. ³ See pp. cxxxix-cxlvi. "Here some little digression I must borrow, to re- venge his base allusion of Sir Thomas Baskeruile, even as I have done of Doctor Androwes; neither of them being men that ever saluted mee, or I rest bound unto in anie thing, otherwise than by Doctor Androwes own desert, and Master Lillies immoderate commending cii JOHN LYLY. That by 1582 Lyly's name carried weight, hist friend Thomas Watson testified by prefixing to his Passionate Centurie of Love this letter of the dramatist : John Lyly to the Authour his Friend. (( My good friend, I have read your new pas- sions, and they have renewed mine old pleasures, the which brought to me no lesse delight, than they have done to your selfe commendations. And certes had not one of mine eies about seri- ous affaires beene watchfull, both by being too too busie had beene wanton: such is the nature of persuading pleasure, that it melteth the marrow before it scorch the skin, and burneth before it warmeth: Not unlike unto the oyle of Ieat, which rotteth the bone and never ranckleth the flesh, or the Scarab flies, which enter into the roote and never touch the rinde. "And whereas you desire to have my opin- ion, you may imagine my stomake is rather cloyed then quesie, and therfore mine appetite of lesse force then mine affection, fearing rather a surfet of sweeteness, then desiring a satisfying. The repeating of Love, wrought in me a remem- him, by little and little I was drawne on to bee an audi- tor of his since when, whensoever I heard him, I thought it was but hard and scant allowance that was given him, in comparison of the incomparable gifts that were in him." Nash's Works. Have with you to Saffron- Walden (1596). Grosart. Vol. III. p. 159. JOHN LYLY. ciii brance of liking, but serching the very vaines of my hearte, I could find nothing but a broad scarre, where I left a deepe wounde; and loose stringes, where I tyed hard knots and a table of steele, where I framed a plot of wax. "Whereby I noted that young swannes are grey, and the old white, young trees tender, and the old tough, young men amorous, and growing in yeeres, either wiser or warier. The Corall in the water is a soft weede, on the lande a hard stone: a sword frieth in the fire like a black ele, but layd in earth like white snowe; the heart in love is altogether passionate, but free from desire, altogether carelesse. (( But it is not my intent to inveigh against. love, which women account but a bare word, and that men reverence as the best God: onely this I would add without offence to Gentle* women, that were not men more supersticious in their praises, then women are constant in their passions: Love would either shortly be worne out of use, or men out of love, or women out of lightnes. I can condemne none but by coniecture, nor commend any but by lying, yet suspicion is as free as thought, and as farre as I see as necessary, as credulitie. Touching your Mistres I must needes thinke well, seeing you have written so well, but as false glasses shewe the fairest faces, so fine gloses amend the baddest fancies. Apelles painted the Phenix by hearesay not by sight, and Lysip- civ JOHN LYLY. pus engraved Vulcan with a streight legge, whome nature framed with a poult foote, which prooveth men to be of greater affection than iudgement. But in that so aptly you have varied uppon women, I will not vary from you, for confesse I must, and if I should not, yet mought I be com- pelled, that to Love were the sweetest thing in the earth: If women were the faithfullest, and that women would be more constant if men were more wise. And seeing you have used me so friendly, as to make me acquainted with your passions, I will shortly make you pryvie to mine, which I woulde be loth the printer shoulde see, for that my fancies being never so crooked he would put them in streight lines, unfit for my humor, necessarie for his art, who setteth downe, blinde, in as many letters as seeing. Farewell.” (( If Lyly really wrote verses in honor of some lady-love, as he seems to hint, either, though this seems unlikely, his aversion for the type- setter kept him from printing them, or, as is far more probable, if they were printed, they have been lost. Just what was the serious busi- which interested Lyly we cannot now determine. Perhaps it was his work for the companies of children; perhaps his duties in the position to which the following letter, written in July, 1582, has reference:- ness "My duetie (right honorable) in most humble manner remembred. "It hath plesed my Lord upon what colour JOHN LYLY. CV I cannot tell, certaine I am upon no cause, to be displesed wt me, ye grief wherof is more then the losse can be. But seeing I am to live in ye world, I must also be judged by the world, for that an honest servaunt must be such as Cæsar wold have his wif, not only free from synne, but from suspicion. And for that I wish nothing more then to commit all my waies to yo wisdome, and the devises of others to yo¹ judge- ment, I heere yeld both my self and my soule, the one to be tried by yo honnor, the other by the justic of God, and I doubt not but my dealings being sifted, the world shall find whit meale, wher others thought to shew cours branne. It may be manie things wil be objected, but yt any thing can be proved I doubt, I know yo¹ L. will soone smell devises from simplicity, trueth from trecherie, factions from iust servic. And God is my witnes, before whome I speak, and before whome for my speach I shall aun- swer, yt all my thoughtes concerning my L. have byne ever reverent, and almost relligious. I have dealt God knoweth and my Lady can coniecture, so faithfullie, as I am as unspotted for dishonestie as a suckling from theft. This conscinc of myne maketh me presume to stand to all trialls, ether of accomptes, or counsell, in the one I never used falshood, nor in the other dissembling. My most humble suit therefore unto yo' L is yt my accusations be not smothered and I choaked in ye smoak, but that they maie How cvi JOHN LYLY. be tried in ye fire, and I will stand to the heat. And my only comfort is, yt he yt is wis shall judg trueth, whos nakednes shall manifest her noblenes. But I will not troble yo¹ honorable eares wt meinie idle wordes only this upon my knees I ask, yt yo' L will vousalf to talk wt me, and in all things will I shew my self so honest, yt my disgrac shall bring to yo" L. as great mervell, as it hath done to me grief, and so thoroughly will I satisfie everie obiection, yt yr L shall think me faithfull, though infortunat. That yo' honnor rest p'suaded of myne honest mynd and my Lady of my true servic, that all things may be tried to ye uttermost, is my desire, and the only reward I crave for my just (I iust I dare tearme it) servic. And thus in all hu- mility submitting my Caus to yo' wisdome and my Conscinc to ye triall. I commit to yo¹ L to the Almightie. "Yo¹ L most dutifullie to commaund, "JOHN LYLY. "for yt I am for some few daies going into the countrie, yf yo¹ L be not at leasure to admitt me to yo¹ speach, at my returne I will give my most dutifull attendaunc at wch time it may be my honesty may ioyne wt yo' L. wisdome and both prevent that nether wold allow. In the meane season what colo soever be alledged, if I be not honest to my L. and so meane to bee during his plesure, I desire but yo' L. secret opinion, for as JOHN LYLY. cvii [I know] my L. to be most honorable, so I be- sech God in time he be not abused. loth I am to be a prophett, and to be a wiche I loath "most dutifull to comand "JOHN LYLY." " "To ye right honorable y L. Burleigh, L. High Treasorer of England." Of this letter two interpretations may be given. Mr. Fleay, holding that "my Lady" re- fers to the Queen and not to Lady Burleigh, thinks that Sapho and Phao, acted probably in Feb. 1582, had given offence to the Queen and so to Burleigh; that the acting of the Children of Paul's had been inhibited forthwith; and that this trouble was the cause of the letter." Certainly these are large deductions from small premises. On its face the letter seems to mean that Lyly, holding some position in the household of Lord Burleigh ("an honest servaunt must be such "), had been maligned with some success,—had been evidently accused, not merely of disrespect (“all my thoughtes concerning my L. have byne ever reverent, and almost relligious "), but also of dis- honesty ("This conscinc of myne maketh me presume to stand to all trialls, ether of ac- comptes, or counsell, in the one I never used fals- hood, nor in the other dissembling"). Apparently 1 Lansdowne Ms. XXXVI., Art. 77. 2 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 40. cviii JOHN LYLY. he wrote in much distress of mind, but with reliance on his innocence, to ask for an examina- tion of the charges; but, since he could let his hearing hold over, if necessary, (see postscript,) until he returned from the country, did not write like a courtier under royal disfavor, or a man who saw the chief means of maintaining himself and his reputation-the theatres of the children's companies-closed against him. The letter sounds much more as if, whatever the office involved, it were not his only stay. More- over, why should Lyly speak of the Queen as "My Lady"? Never, elsewhere, does he so speak of her or address her. Compare with this letter, for instance, the two begging letters printed on pp. clvi-clx. Why, too, if the Queen had taken exception to Sapho and Phao, produced, apparently, in February, 1582, does Lyly write. of her disfavor as if fresh in July? Apart, then, from any consideration of the question whether Sapho and Phao got its actors into difficulty,—a matter that it will be more convenient to treat a little later,'—it will be seen that the evidence in favor of interpreting this letter as a complaint against the Queen's disfavor caused by Sapho and Phao is not strong. On the other hand, if we think that Lyly was slandered as to his management of some office which he held under Lord Burleigh, we are not ¹ See pp. cxviii-cxxiii. JOHN LYLY. cix obliged at all to force the apparent meaning of the words of the letter, and it is not difficult to find a source for the slanders. The successful cour- tier always has enemies, and Lyly constantly complained in his plays of the backbiting at the court.' We even know of a particular enemy of Lyly, for the bad feeling, dating from 1580, existing between Lyly and Gabriel Harvey has already been pointed out. That Lyly, even if he was not so guilty of backbiting as Harvey would have us believe, cherished for years a cordial dislike for Harvey, these words from his Pappe- with-an-Hatchet (Sept. 1589), referring to Gabriel Harvey, plainly show: "If the toy take him to close with thee, then have I my wish, for this tenne yeres have I lookt to lambacke him." 2 ¹ For instance, see Sapho and Phao, Act I. Sc. 2. 2 See pp. xxxvii-xxxviii. 3 That this reference is to Gabriel Harvey the follow- ing facts prove. A few lines before these quoted, Lyly referring to the same person, wrote: "And one will we coniure up, that writing a familiar Epistle about the naturall causes of an Earthquake, fell into the bowels of libelling" (Saintsbury. p. 56). This refers to Gabriel Harvey's letter to Spencer of April 7, 1580 (Grosart's Harvey. Vol. 1. p. 40). Harvey, in his second part of Pierce's Supererogation (Nov. 5, 1589), shows that Lyly's reference stung him :- C 'As for that new-created Spirite, whom double V. [Lyly's signature to the preface of Pappe-with-an-Hatchet] like an other Doctour Faustus, threateneth, to coniure-upp at leysure (for I must returne to the terrible creature, that subscribeth himselfe Martins Double V. and will CX JOHN LYLY. If we remember that Lord Oxenford, the patron of both men, was the son-in-law of Burleigh, and that Harvey boasted that Lyly's effort did not deprive him of the Earl's favor,' we see why there is a possibility that Harvey, in return for Lyly's attack on him in 1580, saw that slander- ous reports about Lyly, in 1582, reached the ears of the dramatist's chief patron, Lord Bur- leigh. That would have been but tit for tat; and if the surmise be true, it shows why for nearly "tenne yeres "-from the summer of 1580 to Sept. 1589-Lyly was on the lookout for a chance to "lambacke" Harvey, and why he stirred up the pamphleteering against him for which Harvey blamed him in 1593.2 For some years after 1580, then, Lyly, promi- nent at the court and in the city as a literary man, acquainted with most of the prominent figures of the day, and at odds with Gabriel Harvey, was engaged in some work for Lord Burleigh, and in writing for the children's companies. needes also be my Tittle-tittle) were that Spirite disposed to appeare in his former likenesse, and to put the Necro- mancer to his purgation, he could peradventure make the coniuring wisard forsake the center of his Circle, and betake him to the circumference of his heeles. Simple Creature, iwis thou art too young an Artist to coniure him up, that can exorcise thee downe: or to lamback him, with ten yeares preparation, that can lambskin thee with a dayes warning."-Pierce's Supererogation. Harvey's Works. Grosart. Vol. II. pp. 209, 210.. ¹ See p. xxxvii, note 3. 2 See p. cxli. JOHN LYLY, cxi 2 3 Mr. Fleay says that by 1583 both of these companies had been forbidden to act;' that from 1583 until 1596 the Children of the Chapel did not appear in any play-house; and that the St. Paul's boys were silent from 1583 until 1587.³ It is hard, however, to find his evidence for much of this, and the conclusiveness of some of the evidence adduced is not marked. Malone says that in 1582-83 the children's companies were prohibited from acting, but he gives no evi- dence for his statement. Mr. Fleay writes: "1583, April 17.-The L. Mayor writes to Mr. Young, a neighboring Justice of the Peace, about Plays intended to be performed on May 1. This appears to me to be the time when the 1 "These boys' companies were inhibited the Chapel from 1582" (see Mr. Fleay's words in next note) "to 1591, Paul's from 1583 to 1587.” 2 "The children of the Chapel, who disappeared when their play-place was shut up early in 1583, . . . I cannot trace in any public playing-place between 1583 and 1596.” Hist. of Stage. p. 81. The only account given by Mr. Fleay of the closing of this company's theatre is in the ex- tract quoted above. In the Chron. of Eng. Dr., vol. II. P. 40, Mr. Fleay also says: "The children of the Chapel were not inhibited till 1583." Since this agrees with his statement of note 2 rather than with that in note 1, and since both are later in time than the first statement, it is apparently Mr. Fleay's last (for the present) judgment on the matter. 3 See note I. • Malone's Shakespeare. Vol. III. Hamlet, Act II. Sc. 2. cxii JOHN LYLY. City authorities finally shut up the Bell, Bull, Bell Savage, the play-place nigh Paul's, and that in Whitefriars mentioned by Rawlidge, as well as the sixth inn-yard, that in Blackfriars, which he omits. He says it was shortly after 1580. But the court had stolen a march on them. In 1583, on 10th March, Tylney was sent for to Court to choose a company of players for Her Majesty ; and although these men are not met with in London in that year (the players travelling on account of the plague), the plan of making one company out of the best actors of Leicester's, Derby's, and Sussex' men was no doubt com- plete. This new company and Howard's or Hunsdon's could occupy the Theatre and Cur- tain, and of themselves would be sufficient, with the boy's companies (sic), for the Christmas holidays." Previously, Mr. Fleay, by reasoning. that will be considered in a moment, assigned the St. Paul's boys to Blackfriars Theatre from 1559-1581, and the Children of the Chapel to the Bell Savage inn-yard. This account of his, then, closes the theatres of both in 1583; makes the city authorities responsible for the closing; and speaks as if at Christmas, 1583, both companies were in favor at court. Let us now look at the evidence and its management. In the first place, the suggestion that at Christmas, 1 2 1 Hist. of Stage. pp. 54, 55. 2 Idem. pp. 36 and 39. JOHN LYLY. cxiii (( 1583, both of the boys' companies were at the court is evidently a slip, for elsewhere (see notes I and 2) Mr. Fleay says that both companies were "inhibited" from 1583, and that the Children of the Chapel disappeared in 1583, when their play- ing-place was closed. Certainly the "Accounts of the Revels at Court" show that neither com- pany acted at court at Christmas, 1583.¹ Sec- ondly, the evidence on which Mr. Fleay assigns the Children of the Chapel to the Bell Savage is by identifying the two prose plays" acted, according to Gosson in his School of Abuse, at the Bell Savage in 1579, as early versions of En- dymion and Gallathea. Doing this, Mr. Fleay places the marriage of Leicester and the Count- ess of Essex in 1576, and adds that until 1582 Lyly wrote for the Chapel children. Perhaps the best commentary on this evidence, apart from the statement that history places the mar- riage of Leicester and the Countess in 1578, is that Mr. Fleay in later works silently throws away every idea on which the assignment of the Children of the Chapel to the Bell Savage rests. Later he says that Lyly began to write plays in 1581;* that Gallathea was not performed until 1587; that the performance of Endymion was on 5 1 Extracts from Accounts of Revels at Court. Old Shaks. So., p. 188. 2 Hist. of Stage. p. 139. 4 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 38. 5 Idem. p. 40. 3 See p. xlv. cxiv JOHN LYLY. 9, 2 Feb. 1, 1588;' and that "Lyly, the vice-master of Paul's, wrote for those boys only." Not much seems to be left of the evidence on which Mr. Fleay assigned the Children of the Chapel to the Bell Savage inn. In a somewhat similar way Mr. Fleay places the St. Paul's boys in the Blackfriars inn-yard. He says: “The Blackfriars inn-yard was almost certainly used by the children of Paul's." Both Lyly's Campaspe and Sapho and Phao, he adds, were acted in public by the Paul's boys, as we know from the title-pages of 1584; and both have prologues at the Blackfriars.' Mydas, of later date, has its prologue 'in Paul s The title- page of each play reads: "Played before the Queenes Maiestie [date] by her Maiesties Chil- dren, and the Children of Paules." To make that title-page mean that the Paul's boys gave the play in public and the Children of the Chapel gave it at Court, we must emphasize the comma after Children and add the words in public between and and the. Are we justified in doing this? Why is it not entirely probable that the two little companies acted the plays together? That none of the later plays bears the same statement is because very soon the Children of the Chapel disappear from court records to re- appear (1601) only when Lyly's plays were no 4 ¹ Chron. Eng. Dr., p. 41. ³ Hist. of Stage. p. 36. 2 Idem. P. 43. • Idem. pp. 124, 125. JOHN LYLY. CXV longer popular.' Indeed, does it not seem more probable, since it is generally admitted that after 1587 the St. Paul's boys acted within the walls surrounding the Cathedral grounds,'- a space back of the convocation-houseor, more generally, their singing-school in St. Gregory's is the place assigned for their theatre,'-—that even before 1587 they acted in the same place? We know that dramatic representations passed gradually from the churches, through the cathe- dral yards and the God's-acres, to the public squares and the inn-yards. We know, too, that the choristers acted first only in sacred plays within the churches, and passed slowly to acting outside the churches in plays not sacred. When the St. Paul's choristers first acted outside the Cathedral, would it not, probably, have been in the Cathedral yard or in their singing-school? Why should they have gone outside the Cathe- dral enclosure, only to return to it later,-par- ticularly since in the earlier years, from 1559– 1584,* for instance, each of these places was as ¹ For evidence as to a change in public taste by 1601, see p. clxxvii, note 2. 2 Hist. of Stage. pp. 86 and 88. Lyly in Pappe-with- an-Hatchet, Sept. 1589, said of a play on Martin Mar- prelate: "If he be showed at Paul's, it will cost you fourpence." The prologue to Midas, 1589 (see p. cxlix), acted by the Paul's boys only, is "in Paul's. 3 Hist. of Stage. pp. 145 and 152. Eng. Dr. Poetry. Collier. Vol. I. p. 271. 4 Hist. of Stage. p. 40. Mr. Fleay gives 1559-81 as the date for the Paul's boys at Blackfriars. cxvi JOHN LYLY. 1 ready for them as in 1587? Either the singing- school or the space back of the Convocation- house was very central,-in sound of Paul's Walk and the busy shops of the book-dealers within the yard. In other words, do not these ideas of Mr. Collier's seem plausible :' that from at least 1580 onward the St. Paul's boys acted within the walls surrounding the Cathedral property; and that the children of the Chapel Royal, placed wherever the court might be,-at Westminster, Whitehall, or Greenwich, all outside the city walls, who would of necessity wish for a place in the centre of the city in which to act publicly, appeared at the Blackfriars inn? It is noteworthy that prologues" at the Blackfriars" occur only in those plays, Alexander and Campaspe and Sapho and Phao, which bear the name of this company beside that of the St. Paul's children on their title-pages; and is it not a little significant that when the Chapel children reappeared in a public play-house in 1597, it was at the new Blackfriars Theatre, built by Burbadge'? Would they not, probably, like the Paul's boys, return as far as they could to the place where their former triumphs had been won? Certainly, enough has been said to make it hardly necessary further to examine Mr. Fleay's evidence as to the closing of the children's threatres in 1583. He slipped as to their history 1 Hist. Eng. Dr. Poetry. Vol. III. p. 90. 2 Hist. of Stage. pp. 126 and 132. JOHN LYLY. cxvii even in the original statement; his placing of the Paul's boys is very questionable; and he himself gives up all the testimony on which he assigned the Chapel children to the Bell Savage. When we add that, as Mr. Fleay admits,' Raw- lidge, on whose testimony he rests his case, says nothing about the theatre in Blackfriars which Mr. Fleay makes the home of the Paul's boys and closes with the other theatres; that for Rawlidge's words to be of any service to Mr. Fleay, we must hold that 1583 would be "shortly after 1580"; that Rawlidge does not name any of the play-houses, but refers to them as The Theatre in Gracious St.," etc., all the identifications being Mr. Fleay's;' that long since Mr. Collier doubted whether he could safely base important conclusions on the words of a man who wrote as did Rawlidge forty odd' years after the occurrences of which he speaks; and that Mr. Fleay admits that Rawlidge talks of the existence of a theatre in Whitefriars, something not mentioned by any one else as ex- isting until 1610; may it not safely be said that Mr. Fleay's evidence for the disappearance of the children's companies in 1583 is not well founded? << 5 3 Apparently forgetting that it was the city au- 1 Hist. of Stage. p. 36. 2 Idem. 3 Hist. Eng. Dr. Poetry. Vol. I. p. 271. 4 Idem. Vol. III. p. 104. Hist. of Stage. p. 39. cxviii JOHN LYLY. (( • thorities and their closing of the play-houses in 1583 which put an end to both of the boys' companies, Mr. Fleay in his Chronicle of the Eng- lish Drama holds that Alexander and Campaspe and Sapho and Phao gave offence, for the Paul's boys were inhibited forthwith, and Lyly in July was in disgrace for want of respect to her" (the Queen). “There are allusions to flat- terers and false accusers in the Pandion part of the play; and as the Chapel Children were not inhibited till 1583, when all the children's per- formances were stopped, I think that it was the Paul's stage which gave the offence, and that the Chapel presentations were by command, that the Queen might judge the play for herself. The S. R. entry of the play in 1584 was subject to Cad- man's getting lawful allowance for it. It should be noted that Mr. Fleay gives no proof anywhere that the acting of the St. Paul's boys was inhibited immediately after February 27, 1582. We find no record of an appearance at court by them between December, 1581, and December, 1587. As has been seen, however," this does not necessarily prove that they did not act at court between these dates, nor that they were forbidden to act in 1582. As has been 1 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 40. ,, 1 2 Extracts from Accounts of Revels at Court; History of Stage, passim. ³ See pp. xciii, xciv. JOHN LYLY. cxix shown,' too, it is by no means clear that Lyly's letter to Lord Burleigh means that he was in dis- grace with the Queen in July, 1582; and it is un- deniable that Mr. Fleay has not proved that the acting of either the Chapel children or the Paul's boys was inhibited in 1583. Certainly parts of Sapho and Phao, with their very frank treatment of the coquetting of Elizabeth with Monsieur, might well have given offence, and royal disfavor may have been back of the question about licensing the first edition. Yet, to assume that because the play may have given offence and there was some difficulty about licensing the first edition of it—the only strong bits of evidence advanced for Mr. Fleay's theory-the acting of the two companies was inhibited in 1583, would be something of a non-sequitur. Why should the Chapel children have suffered for a play originally produced, according to Mr. Fleay, by the St. Paul's boys and given by the Chapel children only on command of the Queen? Why, too,whether Sapho and Phao were given originally by the St. Paul's boys only, or by the Chapel children and the St. Paul's boys, as the title-page seems to say,' should the more guilty, or at 1 See pp. cvii-cx. 2 "Tho. Cadman. Yt is graunted unto him that if he can gett the commedie of Sappho lawfully alowed unto him, Then none of this companie shall Interrupt him to nejoye yt."—Stationers' Register, April 6, 1584. 3 Lilly's Works, Fairholt. Vol. I. p. 153. CXX JOHN LYLY. least equally guilty, St. Paul's boys, and—most unexpected of all—the author of the play, Lyly, have been pardoned long before the Chapel children were again in favor at the court? From 1582 to 1601 there is no record of a perform- ance at court by the Chapel children.' Paul's boys were acting there in 1587. there is direct evidence that as late as Novem- ber, 1583, the Children of the Chapel had not been forbidden to act at court, but expected subsequently to appear there. 2 The St. Finally, In the State Paper Office is the following peti- tion of William Hunnis, master of the Chapel children from 1566 to 1597. On the back of the letter is written, in the same hand as that of the petition "1583 November, The humble petition of the M' of the Childre of Hir High- ness Chappell." In another hand are the words: To gain further allowance for the finding of the Children for causes wthin mentioned." (6 : "Maye it please yo¹ honores Willm Hunnys Mr to the Children of Her Higness Chappell, most humbly beeseecheth to consid' of these few lynes. Ffirst Her Matie alloweth for the Dyet of ¹ Hist. of Stage, pp. 29, 125; Extracts from Accounts of Revels at Court, passim. 2 For an account of Hunnis see the Old Cheque-Book of the Chapel Royal. Camden So. p. 186. 3 See Cal. S. P. Dom. Series, 1581-90, p. 132, or the State Papers, No. 88. Vol. 163. JOHN LYLY. cxxi vij children of Hir sayd chappell daylie vjª a peece by the daye, and vj by the yeare for theyre aparrell and all other furniture. "Agayne there is no ffee allowed neyther for the m' of the sayd childre nor for his ussher, & yet nevertheless is he constrayned over and besyde the ussher still to kepe bothe a man se¹- vant to attend upon them and lykewyse a woman servant to wash and kepe them cleane. "Also there is no allowance for the lodginge of the sayd Children, such tyme as they attend uppon the Courte, but the m' to his greate charge is dryven to hyre chambers both for him- self, his ussher, Children and servants. • • "Also there is no allowance for ryding servi- ces when occasion serveth the m" to travell or send into sundrie cyties within this realm, to take upp and bring such children as be thought meete to be trayned for the service of hir matie. "Also there is no allowance ne other consider- acon for those children whose voyces be chaunged, whoe onely do depend upon the charge of the sayd m' untill such tyme as he may p'ferr the same wth cloathing and other furniture, unto his no small charge. “And although it may be obiected that her mats allowance is no whit less than her mats ffather of famous memorie therefore allowed: Yet considering the pryces of things present to the tyme past, and what annuities the M' then hadd out of sundrie Citties within this realm be- cxxii JOHN LYLY. sydes sondrie giftes from the Kinge and dyvers perticuler fees besydes for the better maynte- nance of the sayd childred and office: and be- sides also there hath ben with drawal from the sayd chilldren synce hir mats comming to the crowne vijd by the daye whiche was allowed for theyr breakefast as may apeare by the Treasorer of the Chamber his acompt. for the tyme. beinge. With other allowances incident to the office as appeareth by the auntyent accomptes in the sayd office, which I heere s mitt. "The burden heereof hath from tyme to tyme so hindred the m' of the children viz. m³ Bower, m' Edwards, my self, and m' ffarrant that not- withstanding some good helpes other wyse, some of them dyed in so poore case, and so deeplie indebted that they have not left scarcelye where- with to burrye them. "In tender consideracon whereof, might it please yo¹ honores that the sayde allowance of vijª apeece for the childrens dyet myght be re- served in hir mats coffers during the tyme of theyre attendaunce, and in lieu thereof they be allowed meate and drinke within this honor- able houshold for that I am not able uppon so small allowance any length to beare so heavie a burden. As other wyse to be consydered as shall seeme best unto yo honorable wys- domes.' Certainly this is not the petition of a man whose company is no longer permitted to act at JOHN LYLY, cxxiii court. It is possible that when Hunnis says. that "annuities . . . out of sundrie citties . and dyvers perticuler fees" no longer are his, he refers to suppression of public performances by his boys, but it is difficult to see why he should have spoken so vaguely of an event so important to him. Therefore, though we might grant that Sapho and Phao may well, from its nature, have angered the Queen, and that the trouble attending the licensing of the play in 1584 may possibly have come from royal disfavor shown the play, ex- amination of the evidence of Mr. Fleay shows that it gives no conclusive proof that Sapho and Phao was responsible for the disappearance of one or both of the boys' companies, or that either or both companies were forbidden, by 1583, to act. There is, however, strong evidence that at some time before April, 1584, when the Alexan- der and Campaspe of Lyly was licensed, the two companies of children had ceased to act. We find no record of a performance at court by the St. Paul's boys from Dec. 26, 1581, until Christmas, 1587;' none for the Children of the Chapel from Dec. 26, 1582, until January, 1601.2 Since both of the companies, however, ap- peared in Sapho and Phao, which could not have 1 Hist. of Stage, pp. 29 and 76. Extracts from Accounts of Revels at Court, passim. 2 Hist. of Stage, pp. 29 and 125. Also see Extracts. cxxiv JOHN LYLY. 4 2 been written until after Feb. 6, 1582,' both must have been acting at some time after that date. Mr. Fleay says that in 1583 the companies were travelling on account of the plague; therefore, the theatres of the boys' companies were tempo- rarily closed by this scourge. Though the Chapel boys were not out of favor in November, 1583,³ neither of the children's companies acted at court during the holidays of 1583; and in 1584, when the theatres of the men's companies were open, the almost unfailing sign of the dis- solution of a company-the publication of its plays—appears. On April 6, Sapho and Phao was licensed; and during the year it and Alex- ander and Campaspe were printed. April 1, 1595, Tityrus and Galatea was licensed. As has been said, Lyly printed his plays only when his companies were not acting them, either because they were silent or the plays were no longer popular. The fact that both Endymion and Gallathea were revived later shows that these plays could not, in 1584, have "been considered musty fopperies of antiquity," the objection made to the old plays of the Paul's boys when, in 1600, they revived some of them. 5 1 ¹ See p. xl. 2 Hist. of Stage. PP. 54, 55. 3 See petition of Hunnis, pp. cxx-cxxii. 4 Hist. of Stage. p. 55. 'See dates for publication from p. clxiv onward. See extract from Jack Drum's Entertainment, p. clxxvii, note 2. JOHN LYLY. CXXV 1 What, too, adds strength to the idea that when Lyly first published his plays, neither of the com- panies was acting, is the fact that on April 26, 1585, shortly after the licensing of Tityrus and Galatea (April 1), we find a writ of Queen Elizabeth to Thomas Gyles, as Master of the Children of St. Paul's, authorizing him in the usual formula to take up suitable children wher- ever he might find them, and to train them to entertain the Queen and the court :— "ELIZABETH R. (6 Whereas we have authoryzed our servaunte Thomas Gyles, Mr of the Children of the Cathe- dral Churche of St. Paule, within our Cittie of London, to take up such apte and meete chil- dren, as are most fitt to be instructed and framed in the arte and science of musicke and singing, as may be had and founde out within anie place of this our Realme of England or Wales, to be by his education and bringing up made meete and hable to serve us in that behalf, when our pleasure is to call for them. We, therefore, by the tenor of these presents, will and require you, that ye permit and suffer from henceforthe our saide servaunts Thomas Gyles, and his deputy or deputies, and every of them, to take up in anye Cathedral or Collegiate Churche or Churches, : and in everye other place or places of this our Realme of England and Wales, such Childe or Children, as he or they or anye of them shall finde and like of; and the same Childe or Chil- cxxvi JOHN LYLY. dren, by vertue hereof, for the use and service aforesaide, with them or anye of them to bring awaye, without anye your letts, contradictions, staye or interruption, to the contrarye. Charg- inge and commaundinge you, and everie of you, to be aydinge helpinge and assistinge unto the abovenamed Thomas Gyles, and his deputy & deputies, in and about the due execution of the premisses, for the more spedie effectual and bet- tar accomplishment thereof from tyme to tyme, as you and everie of you doe tendar our will & pleasure, and will auns were for doinge the con- trarye at your perills. Yoven under our Signet at our Manor of Grenewich, the 26th day of April, in the 27th yere of our reign. "To all and singuler Deanes, Provostes, Mais- ters and Wardens of Collegies, and all ecclesi- astical persons and mynisters, and to all other our officers mynisters and subjects to whom in this case it shall apperteyne, and to everye of them greetinge."¹ When the failure of Tityrus and Galathea to appear, and the cessation of the publica- tion of Lyly's plays from 1585 until the theatre of the St. Paul's boys was closed in 1590 or 1591, are taken into consideration with this writ dated only a few weeks after the 1 The English Drama and Stage under the Tudor and Stuart Princes. W. C. Hazlitt. (Roxburghe Library.) PP. 33, 34. Hist. Eng. Dr. Poetry. Collier. Vol. I. pp. 258, 259, note. JOHN LYLY. cxxvii licensing of the play, all the evidence strongly suggests that for some reason the St. Paul's boys had not been acting from a date somewhere be- tween February, 1582 (the latest time referred to in Sapho and Phao) and Christmas, 1583, (when neither of the children's companies appeared at court) and April 26, 1585, when the writ to Thomas Gyles was issued. Though they do not appear in the court records between Dec. 26, 1581 and Christmas, 1587, the title-page of Sapho and Phao ("played before the Queen's Majesty by the Children of the Chapel, and the Children of Pauls") makes it debatable whether they did not act at court in February or March, 1582; and they may perfectly well have been acting in public between the end of April, 1585, and Christmas, 1587. However, as the plague was bad in 1586,' their acting in that year was doubtless interfered with. It is certainly signifi- cant that when the Queen, at Christmas, 1584, evi- dently wished to see a play by children, Agamem- non and Ulysses was given, not by the St. Paul's boys or the Chapel choristers, but by a com- pany mentioned only in this entry, "The Earle of Oxenford his boys. That certainly seems ¹ Hist. of Stage, p. 56. English Writers, vol. ix. p. 231. 2 Hist. of Stage, pp. 30, 80. Extracts from Accounts of Revels, p. 188. cxxviii JOHN LYLY. to mean that both companies were out of favor and probably not acting in 1584.¹ Moreover the perfect freedom given to Gyles by this writ to take up children anywhere would seem to show that when it was issued no other company of children was acting, for we have seen that in November, 1583, Hunnis, Master of the Children of the Chapel,' evidently had a similar writ in his possession, and yet here the Chapel choir, which was usually excepted in writs like this,' is not mentioned. Apparently, then, in 1584 and 1585 the Chapel children were out of favor. Nor did they come into favor again for very many years. As has been said, their names do not appear in the court records until Jan. 6, 1601. They did not appear in any public playhouse before 1597, when their new master, Nathaniel Gyles, made a contract with Burbadge by which the company could act in 1 Query Is it possible that this Lord Oxenford, the patron of Lyly and interested in actors, had for some reason temporarily permitted the Paul's or Chapel boys, or some lads from each of these former com- panies, to use his name? 2 See p. cxx. ³ In a similar writ, issued by Elizabeth in the second year of her reign to aid the choristers at Windsor, she granted this right to take up children "whersoever ye may find them within this our realm, our said Chapel of household and S. Paulus in London only forborne." Hist. Eng. Dr. Poetry. Collier. Vol. I. p, 170. Progr. Eliz. Nichols. Vol. I. p. 81. Ed. 1823. 1 JOHN LYLY. cxxix the new Blackfriars Theatre.¹ Between Novem- ber, 1583, and July, 1597, we have little evi- dence bearing on their history. Mr. Fleay as- signs to them Nash's Summer's Last Will and Testament, acted at Croydon in 1592, but their name does not stand on the title-page, and cer- tainly the internal evidence points at least as strongly to the St. Paul's boys as the actors.' ¹ Hist. of Stage, pp. 126, 127. 2 There is nothing in the play that forbids a reader to hold the opinion that it was given by the St. Paul's boys. The clear understanding that the writer showed of what might be dangerous for his company evidently means that he had experienced it or seen others experience it. That would, of course, have been true in August, 1592, the date of Nash's play,* of a writer for either the long-disgraced * That August was the month in which Nash's play was given Summer's lines show clearly: "Summer I am; I am not what I was; On Autumn, now, and Winter I must lean." "This month have I lain languishing a-bed, Looking each hour to yield my life and throne." (Old Plays, vol. ix. pp. 18, 19.) At least three references in the play show, too, that it was August, 1592, when the play was given. Very early Will Sum- mer says: "Forsooth, because the plague reigns in most places in this latter end of summer" (p. 17), and we know from Cam- den's Annals of Elizabeth that in 1592 the plague raged. Later Summer says: " The Thames is witness of thy tyranny, Whose waves thou dost exhaust for winter showers. The naked channel 'plains her of thy spite, That laid'st her entrails unto open sight." (p. 32.) Camden tells us that on the fifth of September, 1592, so great was the drought of the late summer that a man might ride over the Thames near London Bridge. CXXX JOHN LYLY. To the Chapel children Mr. Fleay assigns also Dr. Doddypoll, The Wars of Cyrus (both anony- Chapel boys or the St. Paul's lads but newly out of favor. The extreme desire, however, shown in both the prologue and the epilogue-the latter spoken by a child so small that he delivers it sitting on Will Summer's knee, and at the end is carried away—to avert disfavor, suggests that this particular company of players had ex- perienced it but recently, and that at Croydon they were making the most, with extreme caution, of a possible chance to reinstate themselves in favor. Here are parts of the epilogue and the prologue which bear on the pre- ceding statements: "Gentlemen (for kings are no better), certain humble animals, called our actors, commend them unto you: who, what offence they have committed I know not (ex- Near the end of the play these lines occur in a song : "Trades cry, woe worth that ever they were born! The want of term is town and city's harm." (p. 77.) A letter of Thomas Nash written in the long vacation (June 29 to Oct. 10), 1596 (Collier, 1. 292), contains allusions to the term having been held at Hertford and St. Albans in 1592 and 1593. Two of the references, the first and the third, might almost equally well be placed in 1592 or 1593, but the third can be placed only in 1592. That August, 1592, is the correct date the following corroborative evidence from Nash's Private Epistle of the Author to the Printer prefixed to his Pierce Pennilesse, His Supplication to the Devil (licensed Aug. 8, 1592), seems to show, if we remember that often in the play "My Lord" is mentioned as the person before whom it is given. "And lastly, to the Ghost of Robert Greene, telling him what a coyle there is with pamphleting on him after his death. These were prepared for Pierce Penilesse first setting foorth, had not the feare of infection detained mee with my Lord in the Countrey. "I am the Plagues prisoner in the Country as yet: if the sick- nesse cease before the thirde impression, I will come and alter whatsoever may be offensive to any man, and bring you the latter ende." (Nash's Works. Grosart. 11. pp. 5, 6, 8.) 1 JOHN LYLY. cxxxi mous), and Dido, Queen of Carthage, by Mar- lowe and Nash,' the last printed in 1594. Mr. Fleay gives no evidence to support his assignment of the first two plays to the Chapel children, and later,' without any explanation of the change, gives Dr. Doddypoll to the Children of Paul's. To this company it has usually been cept it be in purloining some hours out of time's treasury, that might have been better employed), but by me (the agent of their imperfections) they humbly crave pardon, if haply some of their terms have trod awry, or their tongues stumbled unwittingly on any man's content. In much corn is some cockle; in a heap of coin here and there a piece of copper: wit hath his dregs, as well as wine; words their waste, ink his blots, every speech his parenthesis; poetical fury, as well crabs as sweetings for his summer fruits. Nemo sapit omnibus horis. Their folly is deceased; their fear is yet living. Nothing can kill an ass but cold: cold entertainment discouraging scoffs, authorized disgraces, may kill a whole litter of young asses of them here at once that hath travelled thus far in impudence, only in hope to sit a sunning in your smiles. . . . Your grace's frowns are to them shaking fevers; your least disfavours, the greatest ill- fortune that may betide them." Old Plays (Dodsley), ed. 1825. Vol. IX. pp. 78, 79. In the prologue, the speaker says: "Moralizers, you that wrest a never-meant meaning out of every thing, applying all things to the present time, keep your attention for the common stage ; for here are no quips in characters for you to read. Vain glozers, gather what you will; spite, spell backward what thou canst." (Idem, p. 16.) ¹ Hist of Stage. p. 81. 2 Hist. of Stage. p. 91. cxxxii JOHN LYLY assigned.' We are left with the statement of the title-page of the Dido that the play was given by the Chapel children as the only strong direct evidence that between 1583 and 1597 they were acting at all. From the nature of the play—it is well suited to out-of-door representation-and the fact that from 1583 to 1597 we do not hear of the Chapel children in any public playhouse, Mr. Fleay's surmise that Dido was privately given seems sound. 2 In brief, then, the evidence shows that from Dec. 26, 1581, to Christmas, 1587, the St. Paul's boys do not appear in the records of the Revels Office; that from somewhere between Feb. 1582 (when Sapho and Phao was probably produced) and Christmas, 1583 (when neither company of boys acted at court) until April 26, 1585 (the date of the writ given to Thomas Gyles) the St. Paul's boys were probably not acting; that from Dec. 26, 1582, to Jan. 6, 1601, the Chapel children do not appear in the "Accounts of the Revels at Court"; that from a date prob- ably between November, 1583 (the time of the petition of Hunnis) and the beginning of the next year (since at Christmas the company did not, as was usual, act at court) until 1597, they did not act in any public play-house, and performed in private, apparently, but rarely. ¹ Malone's Shakespeare. Vol. III. pp. 427-29. 2 Hist. of Stage, p. 81. Chron. Eng. Dr. Vol. II. P. 147. JOHN LYLY. cxxxiii What was the cause of these breaks in the history of the companies it is hard to say. Certainly the plague cannot account for the long silence of the Chapel children; nor is it a satisfactory explanation of the silence of the St. Paul's boys; for, as has been said, 1584 and 1585, when the St. Paul's boys were silent, were not bad plague years, and in them the men's companies were acting. Royal disfavor seems to be the only satisfactory explanation for the break in the history of each company. Certainly, only in this way can the disappearance for nine- teen years of the Children of the Chapel from the Revels' records be accounted for. Moreover, this idea, at least so far as the Chapel children are concerned, is supported by some words in a letter of 1600. It was written to the Queen by an angry father whose child had been kidnapped by Nathaniel Gyles and his associates of the Blackfriars theatre. He said: "Nathaniel Gyles ... hath sithence your maties last free & generall pardon moste wrongfully, unduly & uniustly taken divers & severall childeren from divers & sondry scholes of learning;" and "All wch vyolente courses .. were soe com- itted, perpetrated & done sithence your maties last free and generall pardon.' It hardly seems probable that it was Gyles who was pardoned, for his advance in the service of the Queen had been steady. From 1595 to 1597 he 99 1 ¹ Hist. of Stage. pp. 127 and 132. cxxxiv JOHN LYLY. had been Master of the Choristers at Windsor; in the latter year was made Master of the Chil- dren of the Chapel Royal, and given the writ which, by 1600, he had misused.' It seems more probable that the "general pardon" refers to the reinstating of the Chapel boys, by the writ of 1597, in the Queen's favor. It seems barely possible that royal displeasure caused by Sapho and Phao may have brought trouble to the St. Paul's boys; but if it did, it is a little surprising that the licensing of the play should have been allowed in April, 1584, but the actors in it not forgiven for another year. To allow the play to be printed was to spread what had been held to be objectionable. Print- ing it should, then, have meant an end of the anger aroused by it. Why, then, delay for a year pardoning the players? Certainly, too, the nature of Sapho and Phao will not account for the long disappearance from public performances of the Chapel children. If they were less guilty than the Paul's boys, as Mr. Fleay makes them,' the punishment was altogether too unjust to be sustained; if they were equally guilty, the same may be said; if they were the original offenders, why should the worst culprit of all, the author, have been allowed to print his offending play in 1584 and to write and present new plays for many ¹ Old Cheque-Book of Chapel Royal. Rimbault. p. 198. 2 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 40. JOHN LYLY. CXXXV } years before we have any record of even a pri- vate performance by the Chapel children? It would seem that causes were at work in both cases, particularly in that of the Chapel children, which we cannot now ascertain. All this as to the dates of the companies of children may seem a long and an unnecessary digression, but it is very important in general, because, if we know pretty definitely when the two companies were or were not acting, this is a great aid in deciding the time of composition of plays assigned without date on their title- pages to either company; and, specially, in this discussion, because it is imposssible to treat satis- factorily of Lyly between 1580 and 1590 unless the value and the meaning of the hitherto some- what tangled evidence in regard to the children's companies be first determined. The examina- tion of the evidence shows us that apparently until 1584 Lyly was writing for one or both of the children's companies; that when they ceased to act, he promptly began to publish his plays; that when the St. Paul's boys, late in April, 1585, were again in favor, he discontinued the publication of his plays, and from 1585 until in or near 1591, in which year he again published plays, was busy writing for the St. Paul's boys. One other bit of evidence we seem to have about John Lyly before he began a second time to write for the St. Paul's boys. In 1584, the year when Alexander and Campaspe and Sapho ana cxxxvi JOHN LYLY. Phao were published and the "Earl of Oxen- ford's Boys" acted at court at Christmas, Lyly was, apparently, at Oxford for some time, since we find in the Day Book of the bursars of Mag- dalen College: "Mr. John Lillie communarius debet pro communis et batellis' 235. 23S. Iod. Since the Alumni Oxonienses shows that no other John Lyly was connected with Magdalen at this date, this is apparently the dramatist. 2 From late April, 1585, then, Lyly was prob- ably busy again with work for the St. Paul's boys. Until 1589' we have no evidence bear- ing directly on Lyly other than what has been already stated to show the probability that between 1585 and 1588 he made over Galla- thea. In 1588 began the Martin Marprelate con- troversy,* originally a discussion on government in ecclesiastical matters between the party of the established church and the Puritans, which grew into an exchange of scurrilous personalities. In August or September, 1589, Lyly, as we should 1 To owe pro batellis" means that Lyly left unsettled his kitchen or buttery account. See Cent. Dict. 5 2 Ath. Cantab. Also English Reprints: Lyly. Chron. P. 7. 3 The St. Paul's boys acted at court at Christmas, 1587, and "sundry" times in 1588, but in what plays we do not know. Hist. of Stage, p. 76. * For an account of this see English Writers, vol. IX. Pp. 294–308. 5 Fleay says August, Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 130, September, p. 39. Arber says about September, 1589. Eng. Scholar's Library, No. 8, p. 197. JOHN LYLY. cxxxvii . expect from his admiration for Dr. Andrews, wrote on behalf of the High Church party, Pappe-with-an-Hatchet.' That Mr. Saintsbury, in his Elizabethan and Jacobean Pamphlets, at- tributes it with a query to John Lyly is odd, for the pamphlet shows not only the main charac- teristics of Lyly's style, the careful antithesis, the peculiar transverse alliteration, the similes from natural history, but also similes found elsewhere in his work, and at least one word, squirrilitie, which seems to mark the text as his. 3 • 2 "Indeed our parents take great care to make us aske blessing: . . they give us pap with a spoone before we can speake, and when we speake for that wee love, pap with a hatchet: because their fancies being growen mustie with hoarie age, therefore nothing can relish in their thoughts that savours of sweete youth." Mother Bombie, Act I. Sc. 2. Fairholt. Vol. II. p. 83. 2 On p. 75 of the pamphlet the author compares the "settled raigne" of Elizabeth to the "cedar that knit- teth itselfe with such wreaths into the earth, that it can- not be remooved by any violent force of aire." The cedar is one of Lyly's pet similes for Elizabeth and her rule. See Endymion, p. 27; Sapho and Phao, vol. I. p. 201. Fairholt. "These Martins were hatcht of addle egges, else could they not have such idle heads." Saintsbury, P. 49. "If I had not ben gathered from the tree in the bud, I should being blowen have proved a blast, and as good it is to be an addle egg, as an idle bird." To the Gentlemen Scholars of Oxford. Arber. p. 207. 3 In Act II. Sc. 2 of Endymion occurs the following passage, in which there is evidently some play on squirrel, an unusual word not to be found in the glossaries of Elizabethan books :- CXxxviii JOHN LYLY. Any careful reader of the pamphlet who knows well the work of Lyly must feel that the writer of Pappe-with-an-Hatchet had good reason to say: "Faith, thou wilt be caught by the stile. Gabriel Harvey and Thomas Nash, too, in the pamphlets which they published against each other, give proof that the tract is Lyly's. In the second part of Pierce's Supererogation," Harvey attributes Pappe-with-an-Hatchet to Lyly in these words: "Surely Euphues was someway a pretty fellow; would God Lilly had alwaies bene Euphues, & never Pap-hatchet." "Faith, quoth himselfe, thou wilt be caught by thy stile: Indeede what more easie, then to finde the man by his humour, the Midas by his Eares, the Calfe by his tongue, the goose by his quill, the Playmaker by his stile, the hatchet by the Pap? Albertus Secrets, Poggius Fabels, Bebelius. iestes, Scoggins tales, Wakefields lyes, Parson "Sir Tophas. What is that the gentlewoman carrieth in a chain? Epiton. Why, it is a squirrel. "Sir Tophas. A squirrel! O Gods, what things are made for money!" The way in which this unusual word is played upon in the following from (p. 53, Saintsbury) Pappe-with-an- Hatchet suggests that the same hand wrote both extracts: "He hath taken up all the words for his obscenitie: ob- scenitie? Nay, I am too nice; squirrilitie were a better word: well, let me alone to squirril them." 2 ¹Saintsbury. p. 57. * Harvey's Works. Grosart. Vol. II. p. 124. JOHN LYLY. cxxxix Darcyes Knaveries, Tarletons trickes, Eldertons Ballats, Greenes Pamplets, Euphues Similes, double V³ phrases, are too-well knowen, to go unknowen. Where the Veine of Braggadocio is famous, the arterie of Pappadocio cannot be ob- scure. It is a good hearing, when good fellowes have a care of the Commonwealth, and the Church; and a godly motion when Interluders leave penning their pleasurable Playes to become zealous ecclesiastical writers." Nash, constantly referring to Lyly as attacked by Harvey for writing Pappe-with-an-Hatchet, passes to calling Lyly Pap-Hatchet, and never even suggests a denial that Lyly wrote the pamphlet. Certainly, denial of Lyly's authorship of the offending pamphlet would have been too strong a weapon in Nash's hands to be neglected, if he could honestly have used it. 2 4 Pappe-with-an-Hatchet is a clever but scurri- lous attack on the Puritans and Martinists in general and Gabriel Harvey in particular. Its chief interest to-day is, probably, its relation to the long and virulent pamphleteering between Gabriel Harvey and Thomas Nash. It seems to have been indirectly the origin of the bad feel- ing between these two men. Pappe-with-an- Hatchet appeared in August or September, 1589, 1 Harvey's Works. Vol. II. pp. 215, 216. Nash's Works. Grosart. Vol. III. pp. 27, 141, 174. ³ Idem. Vol. II. pp. 69, 196. 3 4 * See p. cix. cxl JOHN LYLY. 1 and the passages in it referring to Gabriel Harvey angered him so much that by Nov. 5 of the same year he had written his Advertisement for Pap- hatchet. This was probably circulated in MS., but was not published until 1593, when it appeared as the second part of Pierce's Supererogation.* In this he violently upbraided Lyly as the author of the offending pamphlet. Meantime, Richard Harvey, brother of Gabriel, printed at about the same time³ as that of the appearance of Pappe- with-an-Hatchet, Plain Percival, and, in Octo- ber, The Lamb of God and His Enemies. In 1 The porton of Piierce's Supererogation directed against Lyly is dated from Trinity Hall, Nov. 5, 1589. Harvey's Works. Grosart. Vol. II. p. 221. 2 Nash's evidence supports this statement. "Against blasphemous Servetus, or Muretus, or Sunius, that have been so bold with her Majestie and this State, was thys Invective of his first armed and advanced; which (uppon the missing his preferment, or advancement, in Court) he supprest, and in the bottom of a rustie hamper let it lye asleepe by him (even as he did the Advertisement against Paphatchet & Martin, which he hath yoakt with it, by his own date, ever since 89) and now, with putting in new names here and there of Nashe & Piers Pennilesse, he hath so pannyerd and drest it that it seemes a new thing, though there be no new thing in it that claimes anie kindred of mee, more than a dozen of famisht quips, but like a lose French cassock, or gabberdine, would fit any man." Have with You to Saffron-Walden. Works. Grosart. Vol. III. pp. 184, 185. Nash's 8 Along here Mr. Fleay is followed in the assignment of the date. Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 130. A JOHN LYLY. cxli these pamphlets, says Nash, Richard Harvey "snarl'd privily" at Lyly and Nash (who at about the date of Pappe-with-an-Hatchet had issued his anti-Martinist pamphlet, Pasquil of England), and "mistermed all our other Poets and writers about London, piperly make-plaies and make-bates. Hence Greene, being chiefe agent for the companie (for he writ more than foure other. ) tooke occasion to canonize him a little in his Cloth-breeches and Velvet- breeches, and because by some probable collec- tions hee gest the Elder brothers hand was in it, he coupled them both in one yoake, and, to ful- fill the proverbe Tria sunt omnia, thrust in the third brother, who made a perfect parriall of Pamphleteers." This pamphlet of Greene's was licensed July 21, 1592. I Harvey says that Greene did not of himself take up the literary cudgels, but was instigated to the attack by Lyly. "He [Lyly] had ever passed untouched with any syllable of revenge in Print, had not Greene and this dog-fish [Nash] abom- inably misused the verbe passive; as should ap- peare, by his procurement, or encouragement, assuredly most undeserved, and most injurious. For what other quarrel could Greene or this dogge-fish ever picke with me: whom I never so much as twitched by the sleeve, before I founde miselfe, and my dearest frendes unsufferable ¹ Nash's Works. Grosart. Vol. 11. pp. 196, 197. cxlii JOHN LYLY. quipped in most contumelious, and opprobrious termes."¹ August 8, 1592, Nash's Piers Penni- lesse, His Supplication to the Devil was licensed, but this was directed rather against Richard Harvey for his words in Plain Percival and The Lamb of God than against Gabriel Harvey. It is evident, then, that originally the pamphleteer- ing had two divisions: Lyly against Gabriel Harvey; and Lyly, Nash, and any other drama- tists who felt themselves insulted by parts of Plain Percival and The Lamb of God, against Richard Harvey. If we notice that Lyly's is the only name occurring in both disputes; that in Pappe-with-an-Hatchet he admits an old grudge against Gabriel Harvey;' that Greene, by Harvey's own words quoted above, had no reason to attack him personally; that the reason given above by Nash for Greene's attack on Harvey sounds labored; that Nash admits in The Intercepting of Certain Letters that until Gabriel Harvey's Four Letters and Certain Son- nets appeared, late in 1592, his quarrel was en- tirely with Richard Harvey; that Lyly, in ¹ Harvey's Works. Grosart. Pierce's Supererogation. Vol. II. p. 123. 2 See p. cix. 3 "Ile make thee of my counsaile because I love thee (not) when I was in Cambridge, and but a childe, I was indifferently perswaded of thee: mee thought by thy ap- parell and thy gate, thou shouldst have beene a fine fel- low Little did I suspect that thou wert brother to lo JOHN LYLY. cxliii Pappe-with-an-Hatchet, threatened the Martinists with a new man, apparently Nash;' and that in Have with You to Saffron-Walden, Nash says that a certain Signor Importunio-who bears a resemblance to Lyly-" never ceast, with all the vehemence of winde or breath that he hath, to incite and moove me to win spurres in this iour- ney' (answering Gabriel Harvey);—the evi- dence supporting Harvey's charge that John Lyly was the cause of the attacks upon him by Greene and Nash is pretty strong. ,, 2 Paan [Richard Harvey] (whom inwardly I alwaies grudged at for writing against Aristotle) or any of the Hs of Hempehall, but a Cavalier of a clean contrary house now thou hast quite spoild thy selfe, from the foote to the head I can tell how thou art fashioned.” Strange Newes of the Intercepting of Certain Letters. Nash's Works. Grosart. Vol. II. p. 194. See also vol. II. pp. 185, 186. 1" Then I thought to touch Martin with Logick, but there was a little wag in Cambridge, [Nash] that swore by St. Seaton, he would so swinge him with Sillogismes, that all Martin's answeres should ake. The vile boy hath many bobbes, and a whole fardle of fallacies." P. 52. Saintsbury. 2" Him that I tearme Senior Importunio is a Gentleman of good qualitie, to whom I rest manie waies beholding, and one (as the Philosophers say of winde that it is noth- ing but aire vehemently moov'd) so hath he never ceast, with all the vehemence of winde or breath that he hath, to incite and moove me to win my spurres in this iour- ney." Have with You to Saffron- Walden. Nash's Works. Grosart. Vol. III. p. 30. cxliv JOHN LYLY. At any rate, the result of Greene's brief but maddeningly effective railing at the three brothers was to make the two disputes one, and to narrow the contest to Gabriel Harvey against Thomas Nash. Greene's words roused Gabriel Harvey to a frenzy of anger. Dec. 4, 1592, his Four Letters and Certain Sonnets touching R. Greene was licensed, an outrageous attack on Greene, from which we get a large part of our probably not entirely accurate idea of the per- sonality of that dramatist. The cruelty of this attack on a man but recently dead when it ap- peared aroused the anger of Nash, and turned his attack from Richard to Gabriel Harvey. came in his Strange News of the Intercepting of Certain Letters (licensed Jan. 13, 1593) to the defence of Greene. Harvey, apparently shortly after July 16, 1593 (the date of the dedication) printed Pierce's Supererogation, A New Praise of the Old Ass, A preparative to certain larger dis- courses entitled Nash's S. Fame. Soon after, probably, appeared the much larger publication with the same name, a fourfold attack on Har- vey's enemies. Part one is a general reply to his enemies, part two is the Advertisement for Pap- hatchet of 1589 rearranged; part three attacks Nash, the last part Dr. Perne.' The enmity of He 1 "Hand off, there is none but I will have the unclasp- ing of that, because I can doo it nimblest. It is devided into foure parts; one against mee, the second against M. Lilly, the third against Martinists, the fourth against D. JOHN LYLY. cxlv Greene, Nash and Lyly for Harvey was the cause of the first part; Pappe-with-an-Hatchet of the second; the Strange News of the Intercepting of Certain Letters of the third; and old quarrels at Cambridge of the fourth. The second part, in spite of its exaggeration and vituperation, gives us considerable information about Lyly, and should not be neglected—indeed all this series of pamphlets should not-by any careful student of this dramatist. Next, Nash says, came private overtures from Harvey for peace,' and in the pre- face to Christ's Tears over Jerusalem, 1593, Nash gracefully extended his hand to his opponent. Harvey, however, was tricky and ill-natured, and instead of accepting the apology of Nash, at- tacked him again in A New Letter of Notable Contents (licensed Oct. 1, 1593). Nash, thor- oughly disgusted, added a new preface to a fresh edition, early in 1594, of Christ's Tears, declar- ing his readiness to carry on the controversy. Nothing came from him against Harvey until 1596, when his Have with you to Saffron-Walden appeared and, if long delayed,' was caustic Perne. Neither are these parts severally distinguished in his order of handling, but, like a Dutch stewd-pot, iumbled altogether, and linsey-wolsey woven one within another." Have with you to Saffron- Walden. Nash's Works. Grosart. Vol. II. p. 174. ¹ See the address to the 1594 edition of Christ's Tears. Nash's Works. Grosart. Grosart. Vol. iv. pp. 3–8. 2 See Nash's words on the subjects in his works. Vol. III. pp. 27, 36, 37. cxlvi JOHN LYLY. enough to make up for lost time. It really gibed and flouted, blackguarded and slandered. Harvey to defeat, who in his answer of 1597, The Trimming of Thomas Nash (licensed Oct. 11), flounders in a sea of vituperation. June 1, 1599, an order was issued that certain publications, among them all of Nash's and Harvey's books, should be taken wherever found, and none of them printed hereafter.' This examination of the controversy between Gabriel Harvey and Thomas Nash brings out some facts as to Lyly pretty clearly. We find, knowing previously that an old difference existed between Lyly and Gabriel Harvey, that Lyly attacked Harvey in Pappe-with-an-Hatchet; that at about the same time Richard Harvey spoke slightingly in print of Lyly, Nash, and the dramatists in general; that Lyly very probably urged Greene and Nash to reply to him, and saw that Gabriel Harvey was not spared when his brother was attacked; that gradually the contest narrowed down to Nash and Harvey as active combatants; and that for nine years after the beginning of the trouble these two kept up the pamphlet war. All this shows that Lyly was certainly a good hater, and that, since others fought so valiantly for him, he had good friends and knew something of the management of men. Another anti-Martinist pamphlet, An Almond 1 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 146. JOHN LYLY. cxlvii for a Parrat, has sometimes been assigned to Lyly, but it is hard to see on what evidence. Careful examination of it shows no such resem- blances as Pappe-with-an-Hatchet offers between its style and that of Lyly. Moreover, the writer speaks of Lyly's pamphlet in words that hardly sound as if the man who wrote them was the author of Pappe-with-an-Hatchet. "His [Mar- tin's] crazed cause that was earst so bravely 1 encountered by Pasquin and Marphoreus, and not many moneths since most wittily scofte at by the extemporall endevour of the pleasant author of Pap with a hatchet." Nor do recent editors give it to Lyly. Petheram, who in 1846 edited the pamphlet, assigned it to Thomas Nash; Professor Arber omits it from his list of Lyly's works; Mr. Fleay thinks that it belongs neither to Lyly nor to Nash, but to the anony- mous author of Martin's Month's Mind.* 2 3 The years between 1588 and 1590 were, prob- ably, the most successful of Lyly's career. He was evidently well known, and the centre of a group of literary men of the time. Some of 5 1 An Almond for a Parrot. (Puritan Discipline Tracts.) London: John Petheram. 1846. P. 12. 2 Idem. Introduction. 3 English Reprints: Lyly. Chron. 4 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 126. 5 "Blessed Euphues, thou onely happy, that hast a train of such good countenances, in thy floorishing greene- motley livery: miserable I, the unhappiest on earth, that cxlviii JOHN LYLY. 2 these, for instance, Greene and Lodge, copied his style.' Writing very successfully for the St. Paul's boys; interested in the Marprelate controversy ; stirring up his old adversary, Gabriel Harvey ; he apparently kept somewhat in touch with life at the universities. Apparently he was married am left desolate. 3 Ah but that might be endured: every mā is not borne, to be leader of a bande: every birde carrieth not Argus eyes displayed in her taile. Fame is not every bodies Sainct." Pierce's Supererogation, 1589. Harvey's Works. Grosart. Vol. II. p. 226. 1 The English Novel in the Time of Shakespeare. J. J. Jusserand. Chs. III and IV. I am threatened with a Bable, and Martin menaced with a Comedie: a fit motion for a Iester, and a Player, to try what may be done by employmēt of his facultie: Bables and Comedies are parlous fellowes to decipher, and discourage men, (that is the Point) with their wittie flowtes, and learned Ierkes; Na, if you shake the painted scabbard at me, I have done: and all you, that tender the preservation of your good names, were best to please Pap-hatchet, and see Euphues betimes, for feare lesse he be mooved, or some One of his Apes hired, to make a Playe of you; and then is your credit quite un- done for ever, and ever: Such is the publique reputation of their Playes. He must needes be discouraged whom they decipher. Better, anger an hundred other, then two such; that have the Stage at Commandement, and can furnish-out Vices, and Divells at their pleasure." Pierce's Supererogation. Grosart. Vol. 11. p. 213. See also Nash's words as to Mother Bombie, p. cli, note 3. 3"But there was a little wag in Cambridge that swore by Saint Seaton, he would so swinge him [Martin] with Sillogismes.” Pappe-with-an-Hatchet, p. 52. Saintsbury. JOHN LYLY. cxlix 1 by Nov. 1589, for Harvey, in the part of Pierce's Supererogation dating from that time, jeers at his "witt" as "paunched, like his wive's spin- dle." In that year, too, as the Parliamentary Papers for 1878, containing a list of past mem- bers, seem to show, he became a member of Par- liament for Hindon. It was a period of activity and success. In 1589, too, probably belongs the first pro- duction of Lyly's play, Midas, though it was not printed until 1592. Like Endymion and Sapho and Phao it pretty plainly allegorizes polit- ical matters. Midas, with his love of gold and his lust for conquest, repeatedly suggests Philip II. of Spain. Doubtless, acute Elizabethan ob- servers thought that they saw in other characters figures of the day. In the following speech, Midas evidently refers to the defeat of the Ar- 2 3 ¹ Pierce's Supererogation. Grosart. Vol. II. p. 130. 2 Note the passage quoted above and "A bridge of gold did I meane to make in that island where all my navy could not make a breach"; Have I not entised the subjects of my neighbor princes to destroy their naturall kings?" "To what kingdome have I not pre- tended claime?" Indeed, compare the whole of the long opening speech of Midas in Act III. Sc. I, with Philip's career. See speech of Midas, Act IV. Sc. 1, p. 45; speech of Amintas, p. 47; of Martius, p. 51; of Midas, top of p. 66 and on p. 67. Lilly's Works. Vol. II. Fairholt. 3 For a possible but somewhat forced list of identifica- tions see Oberon's Vision, Halpin, p. 164, note. cl JOHN LYLY. 1 2 mada, and therefore the play was written after August, 1588. "Have I not made the sea to groan under the number of my ships: and have they not perished, that there was not two left to make a number?" Of 1589 Hume says: "The discomfiture of the Armada had begotten in the nation a kind of enthusiastic passion for enter- prises against Spain." Such a time would be the most fitting for the production of such a play as Midas, which, like Greene's Spanish Masquerado of 1589, jeers at the defeat of Philip's plans. The following passage in Pierce's Supererogation seems to show that Midas was written long enough before Nov. 1589 for the reference to it to be generally understood. "Faith, quoth him- selfe, thou wilt be caught by thy stile: Indeede what more easie, then to finde the man by his humour, the Midas by his eares, the Calfe by his tongue, the goose by his quill, the Playmaker by his stile, the hatchet by the Pap." Midas may, 3 then, be assigned to a date between August, 1588, the defeat of the Armada, and November, 1589, the date of Harvey's words.° ¹ Midas, Act III. Sc. I. Lilly's Works. Fairholt. Vol. II. p. 25. 2 History of England. Vol. IV. p. 266. 1850. Bos- ton: Phillips, Sampson & Co. 3 English Writers. Vol. IX. p. 271. Entered in the Stationers' Register Feb. 1, 1588 (O.S.). Grosart's reprint of it in Greene's Works has the date 1589 on the title-page. 4 Pierce's Supererogation. Grosart. Vol. II. p. 215. Possibly we can narrow the limits even more. In JOHN LYLY. cli Mother Bombie, published in 1594,' was also probably produced first in 1589 or 1590. It evi- dently belongs to the second group of plays, for like Midas it is less markedly Euphuistic than Endymion, Alexander and Campaspe, Sapho and Phao, Gallathea, and Love's Metamorphosis. Nash's praise of Mother Bombie in Have with you to Saffron-Walden,' 1596, at least five years after Act IV, Sc. 4, Martius says: "For my part I neither care nor wonder, I see all his expeditions for warres are laid in water; for now when he should execute, he be- gins to consult; and suffers the enemies to bid us good morrow at our owne doores, to whom wee long since might have given the last good-night in their owne beds." The English expedition against the Spanish left Plymouth Apr. 18, 1589. Arriving at Groyn, in Spain, Apr. 21, they besieged it. They set sail for Lisbon May 8. "The 16 day we landed at Peniche [about forty miles from Lisbon] in Portugall." The words of Martius, then,- "suffers the enemies to bid us good morrow at our owne doores,❞—seem to mean that Lyly wrote after May, 1589; the words of Harvey that he wrote before Nov. 1589. See Birch's Memoirs of Eliz. Hakluyt's Voyages. Vol. II. pp. 622, seq. Ed. 1810. 1 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 37. 2 Midas was "played before the Queenes Majestie upon Twelfe Day at Night by the Children of Pauls." Why it is practically useless to try to place such a per- formance in the Accounts of the Revels at Court has been explained in note I, p. xcv. The title-page of Mother Bombie says only: "As it was sundry times played by the Children of Paul's." 3" Then we neede never wish the Playes at Powles up again, but if we were wearie with walking, and loth to clii JOHN LYLY. the St. Paul's theatre had been closed for a second time, not only shows that it was a decided success, but also suggests, since the comedy was so fresh in his memory, that it was produced not long before the St. Paul's company was dissolved in 1590 or 1591. Mother Bombie is a particularly interesting play, both because it is really amusing and because in it Lyly gives up his allegorical style and writes a comedy on the model of Plautus or Terence. If such a departure from his usual method gained special success, is it not probable that Mother Bombie followed rather than preceded Midas? Success in a new departure means ordinarily either a repetition of the form that brought success or new experiments, not a return to old methods. Yet, if Lyly wrote Midas after Mother Bombie, he must have turned from suc- cess in a new path to an old road. Apparently, then, Mother Bombie was first given to the public between the production of Midas in 1589 and the closing of the St. Paul's theatre at some date preceding October, 1591. That the John Lyly who four times between 1589 and 1602 was a member of Parliament'-for Hindon in 1589; for Aylesbury in 1593; for Appleby in 1597; and for Aylesbury a second goe too farre to seeke sport, into the Arches we might step, and heare him plead which would be a merrier Comedie than ever was old Mother Bomby." Nash's Works. Grosart. Vol. I. pp. 66, 67. ¹ Parliamentary Papers. Vol. LXII. pts. 1-3. JOHN LYLY. cliii time in 1601-was John Lyly the dramatist seems worthy the acceptance given it by Mr. Lee in his article on Lyly in the Dict. of National Biography.' It is noteworthy that all of these are small places; that two, Hindon and Appleby, 2 1 Dict. Nat. Biog.: Lyly. See also Athenæ Cantab. Appendix. 2 In 1814 a writer said: "Hindon (Wiltshire) is an an- cient borough and market town, situated at the distance of ninety-six miles from London. Most of the houses are ranged in one street, which is of considerable length. .. Hindon has returned two members to Parliament since the 27th year of Henry VI. . . The voters are estimated at two hundred and ten in number, and are chiefly in the interest of William Beckford, Esq., M. P. of Fonthill Ab- bey... Hindon, at an early period, was the lordship of Thomas de Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick." In 1811 Hindon had 781 persons in it. Beauties of England and Wales. John Britton. Vol. xv. 1814. "Aylesbury (Bucks)," Britton says, "consists of sev- eral streets and lanes irregularly built. . . .In the reign of Henry the Eighth, the manor was purchased by Sir John Baldwin, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, of the heir of the Earl of Wilts and Ormond, to whom it had descended from the Fitzpiers, Earls of Essex. It after- wards became the property of the Packingtons, one of whom married the daughter of Sir John Baldwin, and has regularly descended to the present Sir John Pack- ington. . . The town was made a borough by charter and empowered to send members to Parliament on the 14th of January, 1353-4." Vol. I. pp. 343-46. Present population, 9000. Of Appleby (Westmoreland) Britton says: "It was answered to an inquisition, made in 1555, respecting arrears of its fee farm rent, that though the town, since cliv JOHN LYLY. were disfranchised by the Reform Bill of 1832,¹ the third, Aylesbury, in 1885; that the History of Aylesbury says that its John Lyly had no "local interest ";' that all of these places were in the gift of great families; and that by at least two of these families Lyly the dramatist was probably well known. Hindon was controlled by the Warwick family; Leicester's brother was the Earl of Warwick; Appleby was controlled by the Pembrokes; Leicester's sister was the Coun- tess of Pembroke. The favor of powerful friends, therefore, probably gave Lyly his position in Parliament. How easy it would have been for him to gain a seat in this way the following ex- tract from the history of Aylesbury not twenty years before Lyly first sat in Parliament for the borough will show: "How completely this • it was last burnt (1388), had been gradually repairing, yet nine parts of it were still in ruins; whereupon its rent was changed from twenty to two marks a year. At present (1814) it consists of one broad street, irregu- larly built on the slope of a steep hill. . . It has 711 in- habitants. This borough has sent two members to Par- liament since the twenty-sixth of Edward I." The Countess of Pembroke seems to have controlled it. Britton. Vol. xv. 1 The Black Book. 2 Professor Gross of Harvard University is the editor's authority for the statement as to the disfranchisement of Aylesbury; Mrs. Gibbs, widow of the compiler of the History of Aylesbury, for that as to Lyly's lack of local interest in Aylesbury. JOHN LYLY. clv town was in possession of this family [the Packingtons] will appear from the following remarkable letter, preserved in the Chapel of the Rolls, among the returns of Parliament writs of the fourteenth of Elizabeth: To all Chris- tian people, to whom this present writing shall come: I, Dame Dorothy Packington, late wife of Sir John Packington, Knight, lord and owner of the town of Aylesbury, send greeting. Know ye me, the said Dorothy Packington, to have chosen, named, and appointed my trusty and well-beloved Thomas Lichfield and George Burden, Esqs., to be my Burgesses of my said town of Aylesbury. And whatever the said Thomas and George, Burgesses, shall do in the service of the Queen's Highness in that present Parliament to be holden at Westminster the 8th of May next ensuing the date hereof, I the same Dorothy Packington do ratify and approve to be of my own act as fully and wholly as if I were witness or present there. In witness where- of, to these presents, I have set my seal, the 4th day of May in the 14th year of the reign of my Sovereign, Lady Elizabeth, by the grace of God, of England, France, and Ireland, Queen,' etc." 1 Before October, 1591, however, this prosper- ous career of the dramatist met a severe check. From the preface of the printer to Endymion, licensed Oct. 4, 1591, we learn that the company ¹ Britton. Vol. I. clvi JOHN LYLY. at St. Paul's was dissolved before that date. Just when this "dissolving" took place, it is hard to decide. In the natural course of things, the MSS. of the dissolved theatre would not come immediately into the hands of the publisher: the company must first be entirely sure of the finality of its dissolution. Therefore, the date can probably be put forward at least a month or two before October. Gabriel Harvey's admission, written not later than Nov. 5, 1589, of the suc- cess of Lyly's work as a dramatist' shows that the St. Paul's theatre was flourishing in the fall of 1589. In Pierce's Supererogation, Harvey wrote as if Midas were the latest success of Lyly." We have seen, too, that probably Mother Bombie followed it. If it did, the time of the closing of the theatre narrows to a date between the very end of 1589 and the summer of 1591. 3 The contents of an undated begging letter to the Queen from John Lyly seems to refer to this "dissolving" of the St. Paul's company :- "A Petic'on of John Lilly to the Queenes Matie. (6 'Tempora si numeres quæ nos numeramus Non venit ante suam nostra querela diem.' Most gratious and dread soueraigne, I dare not pester yo' highnes with many words, and want witt to wrapp upp much matter in fewe. This age epitomies the pater noster thrust into the compasse of a penny; the world into the 1 See p. cxlviii, note 2. 2 See p. cxxxviii. 3 See p. clii. JOHN LYLY. clvii modell of a tenice ball; all science molted into sentence. I would I were so compendious as to expresse my hopes, my fortunes, my ouer- tharts, in two sillables, as marchants do riches in fewe ciphers, but I feare to comitt the error I discomend, tediousnes; like one that vowed to search out what tyme was, spent all his, and knewe yt not. I was enterteyned yo' Mats S'vant by yo owne gratious fauour, strengthened with condicions, that I should ayme all my courses at the Reuells (I dare not saye with a promise, but a hopefull Item to the rev'con) for wch these 10 yeres I have attended with an un- wearyed patience, and nowe I knowe not what Crabb tooke me for an Oyster, that in the midst of yo¹ sun-shine of your most gratious aspect, hath thrust a stone betweene the shells to eate me aliue that onely liue on dead hopes. If yo sacred Matie thinke me unworthy, and that, after x yeares tempest, I must att the Court suffer shipwrack of my tyme, my wittes, my hopes, vouchsafe in yo¹ neuer-erring judgment, some planck or refter to wafte me into a coun- try, where in my sadd and settled devoc'on I may, in euery corner of a thatcht cottage, write praiers instead of plaies; prayer for your longe and prosp'rous life, and a repentaunce that I haue played the foole so longe, and yett like 'Quod petimus pœna est, nec etiam miser esse recuso, Sed precor ut possem mitius esse miser.'" 1 1 Harl. MS. 1877, fol. 71. clviii JOHN LYLY. The sentence, "Now I know not what Crabbe tooke me for an Oyster, that in the midst of yo sun-shine of your most gratious aspect, hath thrust a stone betweene the shells to eate me alive that only live on dead hopes," shows that Lyly had in the midst of success met with an unexpected fall. We have already seen that Lyly, during the period just before the St. Paul's theatre was closed, was at the height of his prosperity.' The phrases "After x yeares tempest, I must att the Court suffer shipwracke of my tyme, my wittes, my hopes," and "write praiers instead of plays," are very apt, if we sup- pose that the letter was written just after the St. Paul's theatre was closed and the boys, conse- quently, ceased to act at court. Indeed, to what other period in Lyly's career will the refer- ences of this letter apply? From 1591 to 1600 the St. Paul's theatre was closed and the boys did not act at court. The Chapel boys appar- ently did not act in any theatre between 1584 and 1597; they did not appear at court between 1584 and 1601. Certainly, then, between the closing of the St. Paul's theatre and 1600 Lyly could hardly have complained that in “ the midst" of the Queen's favor he was suddenly cast down. The only earlier time to which this letter could refer would be 1584 and the first three months of 1585, when the children's com- Pp. cxlvii-clv. 2 P. cxxxii. JOHN LYLY. clix panies were out of favor. But Lyly speaks of ten years of waiting for the reversion of the Master- ship of the Revels; and if his letter was written in 1584 or 1585, that would carry his entrance into the Queen's service back to 1574 or 1575. We have seen, however, that the evidence does not favor this date, but points to the summer or the fall of 1580 as the time when the Queen "enterteyned" him as her servant.' Ten years from that date means, if Lyly spoke with great exactness,—which is not probable,—the summer or fall of 1590; if he gave dates roughly, any time between the end of 1589 and the autumn of 1591. Another expression in the letter, if it does not further narrow the limits to be assigned for the time of the "dissolving," at least helps to corroborate the dates first given. Lyly wrote, "This age epitomies the pater noster thrust into the compasse of a penny," evidently referring to some feat of printing that had stirred the admira- tion of the public. Such a wonder, however, soon loses its interest and for only a short time can a reference to it be suggestive. When, there- fore, we,find Thomas Nash in 1589, in his preface to Greene's Menaphon, using practically the 1 Pp. xxiii seq. and xc-xcii. 2 A newe fashion amongst our Nation, to vaunt the pride of contraction in euerie manuarie action in so much, that the Pater noster, which was woont to fill a sheete of paper, is written in the compasse of a pennie." Nash's Works. Grosart. Vol. 1. p. xix. clx JOHN LYLY. same illustration, we have some right to suspect that the feat in printing was a fresh interest in the public mind when he wrote, and that Lyly's reference to it was not much later in time. The allusions of the letter, then, fit the closing of the St. Paul's theatre; the time-references accord with earlier evidence as to the entrance of Lyly into the Queen's service; and one expression suggests that it was written not long after 1589. In brief, the letter seems to belong somewhere between Nov. 5, 1589, and Oct. 1, 1591, and the evidence slightly favors 1590 or 1591 as com- pared with late 1589. Three years after this letter, Lyly wrote another to the Queen. It is as follows:- "John Lillies Second Petic'on to the Queene. "Most gratious and dread soueraigne, tyme cannot worke my petic'ons, nor my petic'ons the tyme. After many yeares seruice yt pleased yo¹ Matie to except against tents and toyles: I wish that for tennts I might putt in tenements, so should I be eased of some toyles, some lands, some good fines or forfeitures, that should fall by the just fall of these most false traitors; that seeing nothing will come by the Revells, I may play upon the Rebells. Thirteene yeres your highnes seruant, but yet nothing. Twenty freinds, that though they saye theye will be sure, I finde them sure to be slowe. A thowsand hopes, but all nothing; a hundred promises, but JOHN LYLY. clxi yet nothing. Thus casting upp the inventary of my friends, hopes, promises, and tymes, the summa totalis amounteth to just nothing. My last will is shorter than myne invenc'on, but three legacies, patience to my creditors, melan- cholie without measure to my friends, and beg- gerie without shame to my familie. 'Si placet hoc merui quod ô tua fulmina cessent Virgo parens princeps.' "In all humilitie I entreate that I may dedi- cate to your sacred Matie Lillie de tristib³, where- in shal be seene patience, labours, and mis- fortunes. 'Quorum si singula nostrum Frangere non poterant, poterant tamen omnia mentem.' 66 The last and the least, that if I bee borne to haue nothing, I may haue a protecc'on to pay nothinge, wch suite is like his that haveing fol- lowed the Court tenn yeares for recompence of his service, comitted a robberie, and tooke it out in a p'rdon.' 1 The "thirteene yeres" of this letter and the Io yeres" of the first show clearly their rela- tions in time. The difference between the tone of the first petition and that of the second is pretty convincing evidence that in the time intervening between the two petitions Lyly's fortunes had grown much worse: the first is a 1 Harl. MS. 1877, fol. 71. clxii JOHN LYLY. 66 self-contained expostulation; the second shows indignation, even despair. If the first was written in 1590 or 1591, the second, of course, belongs to 1593 or 1594. What favors the date 1593 for this letter is that Lyly's own words— 'Twenty freinds, that though they saye they will be sure, I find them sure to be slowe. A thou- sand hopes, but all nothing; a hundred promises, but yet nothing"-show that he had been press- ing his friends to aid him, and that in 1593' we find John Lyly chosen to represent in Parliament Aylesbury, a new seat for him and a place that some years before had been notoriously a gift in the hands of the Packingtons. Had he had this position when he wrote the letter, it is a little surprising that it is so completely hopeless in tone. Moreover, the seat is just the kind of aid for which he could ask these friends who were (6 2 sure to be slowe." When, however, we make allowance for the barefaced and not always strictly truthful way in which needy courtiers begged from the Queen, this evidence for 1593 does not seem very convincing as opposed to some evidence which favors 1594 as the date of the second letter. (( are Some attempt has been made to identify "these most false traitors" whose forfeitures' asked for by Lyly, but this is an almost im- 9 ¹ Parliamentary Papers. 1878. Vol. LXII. pts. 1-3. 2 See p. clv. 3 Dict. Nat. Biog.: Lyly. JOHN LYLY. clxiii " possible task, for in any year between 1587 and 1595 "traitors," "rebels," and "forfeitures enough may be found. It is, however, note- worthy that the winter of 1593-94 was a par- ticularly good time for such a request as Lyly's, for just then all the enemies of the Queen, after a period of special activity, were temporarily suppressed, and the "fines" and "forfeitures" must have been many. A note in the State Papers, dated March 14, 1594, to a document concerning the conspiracy of Dr. Lopez points out that it will be seen from what precedes "how justly Lopez, Ferrara and Eman. Louis were con- demned for the highest and most horrible trea- sons: how by God's marvellious goodness, Her Majesty has been preserved, and how barbarously the attempt has been furthered by persons of high estate, the judgment of whom is left to the Almighty, the revenger of such horrible feats; that it might be added, to show the abundance of God's favour to Her Majesty, and the malice of her enemies, that about the time of the conspir- ing [Dr. Lopez was arrested some time after his accomplices, Jan. 21, 1594] of this horrible treason, there are several persons, both English and Irish, corrupted with money, and animated by English Jesuits with a promise of salvation, to enterprise the Queen's death, of which number divers have been taken, some condemned, and some spared, having confessed great sorrow for their attempt, and detested their setters on, and clxiv JOHN LYLY. their devilish ghostly fathers."" Apparently, then, Dec. 1593, or better still, the first two months of 1594 would have been an especially fitting time for such an appeal as Lyly's. To sum up, then. The first letter might have been written very late in 1589, in 1590 or 1591, but the evidence favors 1590 or early in 1591; the second letter could belong to late 1593 or early 1594, but seems a little more likely to have been written in early 1594. The two letters themselves, then, do not offer any conclusive evidence for a choice between 1590-1593, and 1591-1594 as their dates. Two additional bits of evidence, however, seem to show that the latter set is probably correct. In the first place, the words of the printer of the first edition of Endymion (licensed Oct. 4, 1591), "Since the plays in Pauls were dissolved, there are certain comedies come into my hands,”² refer to this "dissolving" as if it were recent, not a year or two old. Moreover, we have seen that the children who in August, 1592, -it is by no means improbable, as has been shown, that they were the St. Paul's boys, give Nash's Summer's Last Will and Testament before "My Lord" were very anxious, either because of some great disfavor recently shown to them 3 ¹ State Papers. Domestic. 1591-94. Vol. ccxlviii. No. 26. 2 English Reprints: Lyly. Chron. 3 See note 2, p. cxxix. JOHN LYLY. clxv or to some other company of children, to ward off any misinterpretations of their words or actions. The speaker of the prologue says: "We, afraid to look on the imaginary serpent of Envy, painted in men's affections, have ceased to tune any music of mirth to your ears, this twelvemonth.”¹ The last part of the sentence may be interpreted in two ways: that the boys had not appeared at "My Lord's" country-seat for a year, or, if "your" is taken as referring to the audience as the general public, that the boys had not "tuned any music of mirth this twelvemonth" anywhere for "your" (the general public's) ears. The latter would be proper enough in this case, since at this entertainment in the country, when the plague had driven people from the city, many of those most fre- quenting the theatres were doubtless present. In each case they had not acted because either they had been in serious trouble themselves in 1591, or some other company of children had been so severely treated in that year that this company was scared into silence. Now we know that in 1590 or 1591 the St. Paul's boys were "dissolved” as a company, and we have seen reason to sus- pect that royal disfavor led to this. It certainly looks, then, as if the St. Paul's boys were referred to here, and we must place the dissolving in 1591 apparently at some time during the sum- ¹ Old Plays. Dodsley. Ed. 1825. Vol. IX. p. 15. clxvi JOHN LYLY. mer. Lyly's first letter was evidently written just after the closing of the St. Paul's Theatre, and the evidence just considered would place it between the late summer of 1591 and October of that year. The second letter, written three years later, is thus placed in 1594, and we have seen reasons to believe that the first quarter of that year would have been a particularly fitting time for the appeal it contained.' All this evi- dence seems to mean, then, that the St. Paul's company was dissolved in the summer of 1591, that late in the summer or very early in the autumn of that year Lyly wrote his first letter to the Queen, and that his second letter should bear a date in the first quarter of 1594. Evidently Her Majesty's displeasure ("yt pleased yo' Mati to except against tents and toyles") caused the closing of the theatre, but the reason for this displeasure we do not know. Mr. Fleay thinks that it was the anger of the Queen at the satire on her in The Woman in the Moone and some intermeddling with state affairs in Midas." Certainly, there seems to be satire on the Queen in The Woman in the Moone, but it is at least doubtful, as will be pointed out in detail later when the position of this play among Lyly's works is considered, whether it was written be- fore the theatre in Paul's was closed. Lyly's 2 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 42. 1 ¹ See p. clxiii. 3 3 For the satire and for this discussion, see pp. clxxi- clxxiii. JOHN LYLY. clxvii own words in his second petition-" in the midst of y' sun-shine of your most gratious aspect "—seem to mean that the " dissolving " came unexpectedly when he supposed himself to be in high favor with the Queen. Granted for the moment that this ignorance of any cause of offence was assumed, what at the time of his greatest prosperity, could have betrayed him into such folly as the biting censure of the Queen in The Woman in the Moone. On the other hand, after the theatre had been closed unjustly, as Lyly thought, and after his claims had been, as his second petition shows, neglected for three years, he had a cause for anger, and might have been reckless enough frankly to censure the Queen. It does not seem wise, therefore, to assume that trouble over The Woman in the Moon closed the St. Paul's theatre. Mr. Fleay's supposition in regard to Midas and the suppression of the St. Paul's company gains some support from the following words in the Dedication of An Almond for a Parrat, 1590: "A man cannot write Midas habet aures asininas in great Roman letters but he shall be in danger of a further displeasure." The Latin is the phrase which the reeds whisper in Eng- lish in Lyly's play,' and this may be a refer- ence to some trouble caused him by Midas. 1 'An Almond for a Parrot. Petheram. P. 4. 2 Act IV. Sc. 4; Act V. Sc. I. Vol. II. pp. 53-55. Fairholt. clxviii JOHN LYLY. Even, however, if this be granted, "further dis- pleasure" by no means necessarily implies that the original "displeasure" was anything so severe as the suppression of the St. Paul's com- pany. Moreover, the allusion is so vague that it may readily be given other interpretations than that of Mr. Fleay. If given the meaning he attaches to the words, it places Midas after Mother Bombie, and so contradicts the con- clusion previously reached as to the order of the plays;' and it is hard to see why this comedy which gives a satirical picture of Philip, likely greatly to please the public of its day, and pays fulsome compliments to England as Lesbos, should have roused the anger of a Queen who in 1587 saw fit to permit the fitting out of an expedition to aid the Portuguese against the Spaniards, and of ships to capture the treasure galleons of Spain." 2 One other supposition there is in regard to the cause of the closing of this theatre,-that the company gave offence by its share in the Martin Marprelate controversy. We know that the boys took part in it, for in Pappe-with-an- Hatchet, Lyly, speaking of the way in which, by Sept., 1589, Martin had been caricatured on the stage, said in a note: "If it be shewed 1 P. clii. 2 Act IV. Sc. 2. Act V. Sc. 3. Vol. II. pp. 47, 57. Fairholt. * Hume. Vol. IV. pp. 267, 268. JOHN LYLY. clxix at Paules, it will cost you foure pence. Severe measures to repress the controversy were taken in 1590, the year to which evidence seems to point as the time of the closing of the St. Paul's theatre. In that year the Marprelate press was seized at Manchester, and Udall and Penry, who had been prominent on the Puritan side, were thrown into prison. Possibly the St. Paul's boys in some way fatally involved them- selves at this time. 2 It will be seen that though the theory in re- gard to The Woman in the Moone may perhaps be thrown out, we can reach no final decision in regard to the other two hypotheses, and, there- fore, that the cause of the royal displeasure must be left undetermined. Of Lyly from 1590 we know but little. Ap- parently 1590-1593 were years of waning for- tunes for him; the second letter to the Queen shows that. During this time, if we may be- lieve Gabriel Harvey, he set Robert Greene and Thomas Nash upon the pedant, and shifted the carrying on of his quarrel with Harvey to the shoulders of Nash. In 1591 Endymion and new editions of Alexander and Campaspe and Sapho and Phao were printed; in 1592 Gallathea and Midas were published.' In 1593 his fortunes 2 1 Pappe-with-an-Hatchet. Saintsbury. p. 73. English Writers. Vol. IX. pp. 302, 303. 3 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. pp. 36, 37. clxx JOHN LYLY. (6 2 revived a little and he became a member for Aylesbury.' In 1594 Mother Bombie was printed, and in 1595 The Woman in the Moone was licensed, but was not printed until 1597. The title-page of this play reads: As it was presented before Her Highnesse by John Lyllie, Maister of Artes." It is particularly interest- ing because it is not Euphuistic in style and is written in rather graceful blank verse that occasionally breaks into very genuine poetry. ,,3 On the chronological position of this play among the writings of Lyly there has been con- siderable difference of opinion. The last three lines of the prologue, which apparently offer a clue, have been differently interpreted. are : "Remember all is but a poet's dreame The first he had in Phoebus' holy bowre, But not the last unlesse the first displease.” 4 6 They Mr. Fairholt thought, as does Steinhäuser," that these lines mean that The Woman in the Moone was Lyly's first play; Professor Arber does not commit himself;' and Mr. Fleay and ¹ Parl. Papers. 1878. 2 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 37. 3 Fairholt. Vol. II. p. 149. 4 Idem. p. 151. 5 Idem. vol. I. p. xxvi. 6 John Lyly als Dramatiker. p. II. 1 English Reprints: Lyly. Chron. JOHN LYLY. clxxi Mr. Sidney Lee' interpret the lines as meaning that the comedy was Lyly's first experiment with a play in verse. If it was Lyly's first play, it was written before September, 1579, the probable date of the production of Endymion, and it is odd that Lyly, at a time when the two books of the Euphues and the comedy, Endymion, show that he was the slave of a particular style which disappeared only gradually in his later work should have thrown off for a moment the shackles and have written a play free from any sign of Euphuism. Moreover, as Mr. Fleay justly points out, the blank verse of The Woman in the Moone is too easy in flow for 1579.2 Com- parison of it with specimens of blank verse from Gorboduc to Tamburlaine will show the truth of Mr. Fleay's statement. 1590 is the date which he assigns to the play, and certainly the objections just raised would not apply if the play was written in that year. By 1591 Mother Bombie had been written, in which Lyly showed that he was freeing himself from the bonds of Euphuism; the great success of Marlowe with blank verse in Tamburlaine, and the increasing favor shown the form by the public, might well have aroused Lyly, one of the most successful dramatists of the day, to try his 1 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 42; Dict. Nat. Biog.: Lyly. 2 Chron. Eng. Dr., idem. clxxii JOHN LYLY. hand at blank verse; and the easy flow of his lines would not be surprising if they were writ- ten in 1590. On the other hand, it is odd that The Woman in the Moone, unlike all the other plays of Lyly given between 1585 and 1590, does not bear the statement that it was acted by the children of Paul's. Moreover, the play does not contain the fulsome flattery of Eliza- beth usual in Lyly's comedies; instead, Pan- dora in the last act chooses to live with Cynthia, the goddess who usually, with this dramatist, receives the compliments intended for the Queen, because Cynthia made me idle, mutable, forgetfull, Foolish, fickle, franticke, madde; These be the humors that content me best, And therefore will I stay with Cynthia." "' 1 At the end Nature says:- "Now rule, Pandora, in fayre Cynthia's steede, And make the moone inconstant like thyselfe.” 2 In just the same indirect way, then, that Elizabeth is complimented as Cynthia in Endy- mion, she is here, apparently, blamed as "idle, mutable, forgetfull," surprising adjectives for the court dramatist to apply to the Queen, Cer- tainly, he would not have written without cause lines so daringly ill-tempered, and where, since by Lyly's own words the disbanding of the St. 1 Fairholt. Vol. II. p. 210. 2 Idem. p. 211. JOHN LYLY. clxxiii : Paul's company came unexpectedly "in the midst of yo¹ sunshine of your [the Queen's] most gra- tious aspect, "is the cause to be found before 1591? On the other hand, the lines accord well with the but ill-suppressed anger of the letter of 1593.* Is it not possible, then, that The Woman in the Moone, like Nash's Summer's Last Will and Testament, was given at some private entertain- ing of the Queen, after both the children's com- panies had ceased to act publicly ? If it was given under such conditions, Lyly, called upon by some nobleman to aid him in entertainment of the Queen, smarting under what he consid- ered the injustice of his broken career, and after the second petition, in despair of redress, might naturally have written the satire on the Queen. For such an occasion, too, a special company may have been gathered together. Such a sup- position, certainly, accounts for the absence from the title-page of the name of the company which gave it. 1 ¹ See p. clvii. 2 See p. clx. 3 It is, perhaps, worth noting that though The Woman in the Moone was licensed in 1595, it was not printed until 1597. This "staying" of the printing, when taken with the satire on the Queen in the play, suggests that royal interference caused the "staying." Certainly, however, such interference by the Queen would be much more natural if the offence was recent, rather than five years old, as would be the case if we put The Woman in the Moone in 1590. clxxiv JOHN LYLY. June 3, 1596, Lillies Light, which probably had some connection with the dramatist, was licensed.' If it was published, it is now not ex- tant. In this year Nash in Have with You to Saffron-Walden refers as follows to some work of Lyly's directed against Harvey, written but not then published: "As for him whom (so artlesse and against the haire of anie simili- tude or coherence) hee calls the arte of figges,' he shall not need long to call for his figs, for hee will bee choakt soone inough with them; they having lyne ripe by him readie gathered (wanting nothing but pressing) anie time this twelve month.' Possibly there is some con- nection between this work and Lillies Light. 1) 3 Some years ago J. P. Collier found in the Regis- ter of St. Bartholomew the Less some entries in regard to a "John Lyllie," whom he believed to be the dramatist. Sept. 10, 1596, "John, the sonne of John Lillye. John Lillye. gent., was bap- tised"; Aug. 20, 1597, this son was buried at St. Botolph, Bishopsgate; July 3, 1600, "John, sonne of John Lillye, gent., was baptized"; May 1 Chron. Eng. Dr., vol. II. p. 38. 2 Saint Fame is one of the notorious nicke-names he gives thee [Nash], as also under the arte of figges (to cleave him from the crowne to the waste with a quip) he shadowes Master Lilly." Have with You to Saffron- Walden. Nash's Works. Grosart. Vol. 1. p. 76. 3 Idem. 77. 4 Biblio. Cata., vol. I. p. 503, ed. 1865. JOHN LYLY. clxxv 21, 1603, “Frances, daughter of John Lillye, gent., was baptized." If these entries refer to children of John Lyly, the dramatist, there must have been others, for we have seen that in 1589 he was already married, and in the letter to the Queen, assigned to 1593, he says: "My last will is shorter than myne inven'con. garie without shame to my family." beg- In 1597 The Woman in the Moone was printed. In this year Lyly became a member of Parlia- ment for Appleby.' He wrote at this time some prefatory lines for Henry Lock's, or Lok's, Ec- clesiastes, otherwise called the Preacher. "AD SERENISSIMAM REGINAM ELIZABETHAM. Regia Virgineae soboles dicata parenti, Virgo animo, patriae mater, Regina quid optas? Chara domi, metuenda foris, Regina quid optas? Pulchra, pia es, princeps, foelix, Regina quid optas? Coelum est? Certò et serò sit Regina quod optas. "IOH. LILY. "AD LOCKUM EIUSDEM. Ingenio et genio locuples, die Locke quid addam ? Addo, quod ingenium quondam preciosius auro. The establishing of the Children of the Chapel Royal as a dramatic company at the Blackfriars Theatre in 1597 doubtless aided Lyly's fortunes, for they certainly gave one of his old plays, Love's Metamorphosis, and probably revived others. In ¹ Parl. Papers. 1878. 3 Quoted in English Reprints: Lyly. Chron., p. 10. 3 "Love's Metamorphosis. A wittie and courtly pas- clxxvi JOHN LYLY. 2 1600 The Maid's Metamorphosis was published anonymously,' a play "sundrie times acted by the Children of Powles." Until recently it has usually been assigned to Lyly. The apparent grounds for this assignment are these: The title resembles Love's Metamorphosis; Ascanio, the hero, lies down to sleep somewhat as Endymion does, though neither his sleep nor his awaking are like Endymion's; the pages consult an oracle as Phao does in Sapho and Phao; and there is a transformation as in Endymion, Gallathea, and Love's Metamorphosis. Such coincidences between this play and Lyly's work point, however, not to one author for both, but rather to an imitator who in The Maid's Metamorphosis crowds his work with incidents similar to those which, in the more powerful hand, were singly enough for one play. The Maid's Metamorphosis was, too, given first in a leap-year³ and at a time of drought. Be- tween 1580, when Lyly was advised to try for 4 toral, written by Mr. John Lyllie. First played by the Children of Paules, and now by the Children of the Chappell." Title-page of edition of 1601. Vol. II. p. 215. ¹ English Reprints: Lyly. Chron., p. 10. 2 A Collection of Old English Plays. Privately Printed, 1882. ³ Idem. p. 147. is leape yeare. "" Vol. 1. p. 101. Fairholt. A. H. Bullen. "Joculo. Maister, be contented; this ▲ Idem. p. 117. "Joculo. There is such a dearth at this time. God amend it." JOHN LYLY. clxxvii the Mastership of the Revels, and his death, usually assigned to 1606,' there were but two leap-years when Lyly could have produced this play with the St. Paul's boys for its actors. 1584 was an idle year for them; so were 1592 and 1596; in 1604 plays like Lyly's had been replaced by those of the masters of the Elizabethan drama.” 1588 and 1600 are the leap-years which remain. The first is not named as a time of 3 drought; the second is. Moreover, any reader will see that the author of The Maid's Meta- morphosis felt strongly the influence of Spenser, especially in The Faery Queen. Descriptions in it and special lines were in his mind as he wrote. Indeed, The Faery Queen is the inspira- 1 See pp. clxxiv and clxxix. 2 Hist. of Stage. Fleay. p. 154. In Jack Drum's Entertainment (1600) Brabant Junior says: "I hope one day The boys will come into the Court of requestes." Brabant Senior : "I, and they had good plaies. But they produce Such mustie fopperies of antiquitie, And do not sute the humorous ages backs, With clothes in fashion." The School of Shakspere. Richard Simpson. Vol. II. P. 199. 790 a. 3 Hist. of Stage. Fleay. p. 163. Also Stow. • Compare the Cave of Morpheus (Bullen, p. 120) with the House of Morpheus, Book I. Canto I of The Faery Queen; also "The warbling Birds doo from their prettie billes Unite in concord as the brooke distilles" (Bullen, 156) with Book I. Canto 12, line 71. clxxviii JOHN LYLY. tion of The Maid's Metamorphosis in much the same way that The Dial for Princes is the in- spiration of the Euphues, his Anatomie of Wit, or the Diana of Montemayor of Sidney's Arcadia. Such imitation usually appears only after the book copied has been some time before the public; but if this play was written by Lyly in 1588, we must suppose, since the first six books of The Faery Queen were not published until 1590,' that before that date Lyly knew it well in MS. On the other hand, 1600 was a year of drought, and in that year copying of the very successful Faery Queen, then for ten years well known to the public, would have been natural enough. If, then, the play is Lyly's, it was, probably, a late product of his pen. The vocabulary of the play, however, is not Lyly's; the pastoral element in it does not suggest, as does Lyly's work in Gallathea, Love's Metamor- phosis, and The Woman in the Moone, the stiff, un- natural pastorals of Spain, but the ease and the freshness of Spenser's work. Does it not seem strange, too, that Lyly, after he had done more than any one else to establish prose as the means of expression for comedy and had kept abreast of the time by writing successfully in blank verse, reverted, late in life, to the jingling rhymes that suggest the early work of Greene and Peele? Recent criticism, too, does not give the play to Lyly. Mr. Gosse assigns it to Day, and Mr. English Writers. Vol. IX. p. 317. 1 JOHN LYLY. clxxix 3 Bullen supports the assignment;' Mr. Fleay, who formerly held that Lyly wrote the play,' has recently withdrawn from him all except the page scenes, making out a pretty strong case for Samuel Daniel as author of the play, and the marriage of Lord Harbert and Lady Anne Russell, June 16, 1600, as the occasion when the play was first given. It is just in the page scenes, however, that Mr. Bullen sees one of the traces of John Day, and comparison of them with similar scenes in Lyly's work shows that they lack his lightness of touch, and are more often and more decidedly coarse-in a word they seem more like imitations than originals. 5 In 1601 Love's Metamorphosis was printed.* In the same year Lyly became for a second time a member of Parliament for Aylesbury. Nov. 30, 1606, “John Lyllie, gent., was buried" says the Register of St. Bartholomew's.° The last ten years of Lyly's life, even if he was well provided for through the kindness of the friends who were "sure to be slowe," could hardly have been wholly happy, for his was the lot of the writer who sees the public which once 1 ¹ A Collection of Old English Plays. Bullen. Vol. 1. PP. 99, 100. 2 Shakespeariana. Vol. IV. p. 546. 3 Chron. Eng. Dr. 4 Idem. P. 37. 5 Parl. Papers. 1878. Vol. II. pp. 324, 325. • Biblo. Cata. J. P. Collier. Vol. I. p. 503, ed. 1865. 1 clxxx JOHN LYLY. praised and copied his work outgrow it and re- place it with new forms. Euphuism was out of fashion before 1600; during the long silence in public of the St. Paul's boys from 1590 to 1600 the public taste in plays changed, and when, at the reopening of their theatre, they revived some of their former successes, the public held them to be "musty fopperies of antiquitie." By 1600 Lyly's work was of the past. (6 1 2 For a long time Blount's words in praise of Lyly in the first collected edition of his plays (1632), “Our Nation are in his debt, for a new English which he first taught them," were ac- cepted as strictly true, but recent critical re- search has shown that Gabriel Harvey came nearer the truth when he wrote: Young Eu- phues hatched the egges, that his elder freendes laide." ³ The model for Lyly's style was the Dial for Princes of Don Antonio de Guevara, Bishop of Guadix and Mendoza, published in Spain in 1529. Numerous editions of it were printed, and it was translated into many languages. The first English version, that of Lord Berners, ap- peared in 1534. Fourteen more editions of this translation appeared between 1534 and 1588. In 1557 Sir Thomas North issued a new trans- lation, based upon an augmented version of ¹ See extract from Jack Drum's Entertainment, p. clxxvii, note 2. "To the Reader. 3 Sixe Court Comedies. 1632. JOHN LYLY. clxxxi Guevara's work. This translation also went through many editions. Other works of Guevara in the same alto estilo were given to English readers by Sir Francis Bryan, Tymme, Fenton, Savage, and Hellowes. "Guevara, impressed with the greatness of such Latin authors as Cicero, conceived the idea of rivalling them by invent- ing a style in which rhetorical finish should be achieved by using lavishly the well-known figures of pointed antithesis and parisonic bal- anced clauses, in connection with a general climactic structure of the sentence or period, the emphatic or antithetic words being marked by rhyme or assonance. In its contents Eu- • • • He phues, treating both parts as one book, is a mere imitation of North's translation of Guevara. In style Lyly far outstripped his master. He carries the device of antithesis to such a pitch that word balances word, phrase balances phrase, with the monotonous regularity of a pendulum. Not unfrequently the balancing words contain exactly the same number of letters! abounds in the rhetorical question. To Guevara's style he adds two features: a, play on words, often amounting to downright punning; b, al- literation. (A third peculiarity of Lyly, his so- called unnatural natural history," is not in strictness a feature of style, but of subject-mat- ter.) As to play on words, Guevara himself. . . indulges in it occasionally; but Lyly carries it to excess. As to alliteration, it is not to be found in (6 clxxxii JOHN LYLY. Guevara for the reason that the Spanish language scarcely admits of it. . . . Guevara occasion- ally marks his antithetic words by rhyme ; instead of rhyme Lyly uses alliteration, and uses it also in excess. His alliteration, too, is not what we ordinarily mean by the word but, usually, trans- verse alliteration, i.e. “Although I have shrined thee in my heart for a trustie friend, I will shunne thee hereafter as a trothless foe." Lyly was not, however, the first in English to show characteristics in his prose that belong to Guevarism. There are bits of the alto estilo in Roger Ascham, and, as a recent very careful student of English literature in the sixteenth century, Herr Emil Koeppel,' has shown, Lyly's style, except in its use of fabulous natural his- tory,—which Professor Hart has correctly said is a feature of the subject-matter not of the style,—was anticipated by George Pettie in his Pettie Pallace of Pettie his Pleasure. Really, then, what Lyly did was, not to offer a new style, but to carry to excess and to make popular a style given him by others. Lyly's prose is, as Professor Hart has said, "Guevarism carried to its climax," and he made the style a literary fashion, even as to-day Maurice Maeterlinck, ¹ For the passages quoted and for the details as to edi- tions of the Dial for Princes the editor is indebted to Professor J. M. Hart's interesting essay on Euphuism. Reprint from the Transactions of the Association of Ohio Colleges, 1889, pp. 2–7. 2 See Bibliography. JOHN LYLY. clxxx though by no means the first symbolist, has done most to give symbolism vogue. Harvey's words, then, are strictly true: Lyly but "hatched the egges his elder freendes laide ; he but brought into popularity as an English style what, in Spain, Guevara had used in its chief characteristics, in England Ascham had tried a little, and Pettie had copied; and in the last recourse all these men owed to Cicero as their inspiration. Yet, if to-day we must deprive Lyly of this leaf of laurel given him by the enthusiastic but inaccurate Blount, we may replace it by another. No student of the growth of English prose from Ascham to Bunyan can doubt that even as a youth gains suppleness, grace, quickness and sureness of movement from the severe exercises of the gymnasium, in like manner English prose gained something from the temporary success of Euphuism between 1580 and 1590. The care- ful study of words, of their values in sound and in meaning, meant a better understanding of the scope of the English language, of its possibilities. Like the youth coming from the gymnasium, English prose must have come forth from the period of euphuism more supple, with a better knowledge of its own strength, and of the methods by which any weakness in it as a means of literary expression might be over- come. The contribution of Euphuism to the development of English prose must have been, though less in extent, similar to the gain of xxxiv JOHN LYLY. } English poetry from the study of the sonnet from Wyatt to Shakespeare. For this reason, then, students of Elizabethan literature may grant anew to the Euphues, as the most popular and the complete embodiment of a style that did important work in the growth of English prose, the honor which they took away from it as the originator of that style. As a novelist Lyly has interest because the Euphues illustrates the close relation between Spanish literature of the sixteenth century and early English fiction, and, at least in its first part, is one of the earliest English didactic novels. As a pamphleteer Lyly's success, though of a different kind and indirect, was, as has been seen in the examination of the Harvey-Nash controversy, by no means slight. It is in his comedies, however, that Lyly shows his strongest effect on the literature of his time. Naturally the style was at first that of the Eu- phues, though, as has been pointed out, it gradu- ally grew simpler and finally gave place to ex- perimentation in blank verse. Why so much of Lyly's work had the allegorical form is easily explained, for if the theory that Endymion was his first play and was given in 1579 be not ac- cepted, the abiding love of the Briton for-alle- gory, especially evident dramatically in the success of the Moralities, the special at- tention given to it by the poets from Wyatt to Shakespeare, and the known fondness for it of JOHN LYLY. clxxxv the Queen and her court, account for Lyly's use of it. If, on the other hand, 1579 be accepted as the date of Endymion, we have seen that the conditions under which the play was given de- manded a veiled, allegorical treatment of the subject. Success in this first attempt of Lyly at this form, particularly if some of the success was the result of the compliments that allegory made it easy to shower upon the Queen, would have led him to continue the use of allegory. The influence of these clever plays of Lyly's, of these elaborately planned and developed com- pliments to the Queen, upon the growth of the masque into favor in England has never been properly examined. It cannot have been slight, even if indirectly felt. It is clear, however, that Lyly did much to establish prose as the method of expression for comedy. Those dramatists who preceded him, most of his contemporaries, and some of his successors in the drama, tried to put their comedy into jingling rhymes or blank verse. Lyly did his work, with one ex- ception, in prose, and by 1600 prose was pretty generally accepted as the best form for comic scenes. Moreover, if the intentionally amusing scenes of Lyly are compared with those in other plays from 1580 to 1590, it will at once appear that in most of the plays of other writers the comedy, hen it is not a somewhat clumsy copy of scenes Plautus or Terence, is coarseness or horse- clxxxvi JOHN LYLY. play, but that Lyly's scenes, even if the pun and the equivoque are somewhat overworked, and the fun occasionally becomes a little labored, have real wit, humor, and amusing characteriza- tion. His pages and nimble-witted youngsters are very clever, and stand between the audacious and mendacious slaves and boys of Plautus and Terence and the wags and wits of Shakespeare. Moreover, writing successfully for the Queen and her court, he showed that plays could win high favor without the scurrilous jesting of the early drama, for there are but few indelicate speeches in his comedies. The lesson, unfor- tunately, was not heeded. One other characteristic of the Elizabethan drama Lyly did much to develop, its lyricism. As Mr. Symonds has pointed out, we probably owe the largest part of the lyrics so common in this drama to the fact that even from the days of the Mysteries and Miracle Plays, the choir- boy appeared prominently in dramatic represen- tations. Chances to make use of his well- trained voice were not to be missed, and there- fore songs were written for him to sing. No one did so much as Lyly to make the choir-boys prominent as actors, and his plays and those of the men who copied his work are especially full of lyrics. Nor can there be any doubt that he had copyists. We have seen that The Maid's Metu morphosis is probably an imitation of his wor JOHN LYLY. clxxxvii Jonson's Cynthia's Revels plainly shows his in- fluence; it has been generally supposed that Peele's Arraignment of Paris does also. In- deed, nearly all of the plays written between 1580 and 1600 for children to act show signs of his influence. Certainly the master dramatist knew Lyly's work and was not unwilling to borrow from it. The resemblance between the spirit of some of the punning scenes of pages of Lyly and scenes in Shakespeare's work has often been pointed out.' The scene of the Watch in Endymion strongly suggests the talk of Dogberry and Verges in Much Ado about Noth- ing. Indeed, there are lines and passages in Lyly's plays which Shakespeare seems to have read, and then, half-remembering, to have trans- muted into sweeter lines of his own. For in- stance Pandora in Act III. Sc. 2, of The Woman in the Moone, says: "Wilt thou for my sake go into yon grove, And we will sing unto the wild bird's note." Certainly this much resembles the words of Amiens' song, "Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat Come hither, come hither, come hither." (As You Like It, Act II. Sc. 5.) 1 Compare the dialogue of Licio and Petulius, Midas, Act I. Sc. 2, with that of Launce and Speed in Two Gentlemen of Verona, clxxxviii JOHN LYLY. 1 In Act III. Sc. 2 of Gallathea is this dialogue between Phillida and Gallathea, two girls in the disguise of youths. 64 << PHIL. Have you ever a sister? GALL. If I had but one, my brother must needs have two; but pray have you ever a one? PHIL. My father had but one daughter, and therefore I could have no sister." A very similar situation and the same thought were in Shakespeare's mind when he made Viola say to the Duke (Twelfth Night, Act II. Sc. 4), "I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all the brothers too." I Trico, too, in Act V. Sc. 1 of Alexander and Campaspe says: "Brave pricksong! Who is't now we heare? None but the lark so shrill and cleare; How at heaven's gate she claps her wings, The morne not waking till shee sings." Instantly the lines of Shakespeare recur to us, "Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise." (Cymbeline, Act II. Sc. 3.) It would seem, then, that Shakespeare knew and cared for these plays of John Lyly, for these are but instances to which others might readily be added of the way in which he bor- rowed from the court dramatist's plays. In summing up, then, it may be said that JOHN LYLY. clxxxix John Lyly succeeded in all the literary fields into which he ventured. A student of the growth of English prose must carefully consider his style and its effect on writing from 1580- 1590. A student of the development of the English novel will find in his work the precur- sor of the novel with a purpose, the philosophic novel, and must give it careful consideration. Any student of the Martin Marprelate contro- versy, or of Gabriel Harvey's or Thomas Nash's lives cannot neglect his pamphlet, Pappe-with- an-Hatchet. Because of the relation of Lyly's work to the development of the masque in Eng- land, because of his real wit and humor, his important part in establishing prose as the form for comedy, his lyrics, his part in the develop- ment of the companies of children, his influence on fellow-dramatists and successors, and par- ticularly upon Shakespeare, a student of the Elizabethan drama must give Lyly and his work careful consideration. The aim of this introduc- tion has been to show, as far as is possible at the present time, under what conditions Lyly's work was done, and to point the way, very briefly, to a study of what is significant in this work. } BIBLIOGRAPHY. TEXTS. Euphues. His Anatomy of Wit." 1579 bis, 1580, 1581, 1585, [1597], 1607, 1613, 1617, [1623], 1626, 1630, (all the editions thus far are quartos,) 1636, 1718, (modernized,) 8vo, 1868, (Arber's Re- prints,) 1887 (Landmann). "Euphues and his England." 1580 bis, 1581, 1582, 1586, 1597, 1606, 1613, 1617, 1623, 1631, (all editions thus far are quartos,) 1636, 1868, (Arber's Reprints). For the title-pages of these editions and for fuller information see pp. 28, 29, and 30 of Arber's re- print of the two books. English Reprints. Edited by Edward Arber. John Lyly. Euphues. The Anatomy of Wit. Euphues and his England." London, 1868. The in- troductory pages of this edition contain a "Chron- icle of some of the principal events in the Life, Works, and Times of John Lyly," a collection of notices in English literature of the poet, and a careful list of the editions of the two parts of the Euphues.¹ 66 Euphues. The Anatomy of Wit." Edited by Dr. Friedrich Landmann. Heilbronn, 1887. ¹ The Reprints may be had by application to Professor Arber, 34 Wheeley's Road, Edgbaston, Birmingham, England. cxci cxcii BIBLIOGRAPHY. 'De vermakelijke Historie Zeeen Landreize van Euphues." 1671, Rotterdam; 1682, Amsterdam. “Alexander and Campaspe.” 1584 bis, 1591, all for Thomas Cadman; 1632, in Sixe Court Comedies, Blount; 1825, in Vol. II. of Dodsley's Select Collection of Old Plays; 1858, Vol. I. of John Lyly's Dramatic Works, F. W. Fairholt. 64 Sapho and Phao." 1584, 1591, both for Thomas Cadman; 1632, Blount; 1858, Fairholt, Vol. I. 86 Pap with a Hatchet." 1589; 1844, "Puritan Discipline Tracts." John Petheram. London; 1892, “Pocket Library. Elizabethan and Jacobean Pamphlets." G. Saintsbury. N. Y.: Macmillan & Co. " 'Endimion." 1591, for the widow of W. Broome ; 1632, Blount; 1814, Old English Plays, Dilke, Vol. II.; 1858, Fairholt, Vol. I. Gallathea." 1592, for the widow of W. Broome; 1632, Blount; 1858, Fairholt, Vol. I. "Mydas." 1592, for the widow of W. Broome; 1632, Blount; 1814, Dilke, Vol. I.; 1858, Fairholt, Vol. II. Mother Bombie." 1594, 1598, both for Cuth- bert Burbye; 1632, Blount; 1814, Dilke, Vol. I.; 1858, Fairholt, Vol. II. "The Woman in the Moone." 1597, for Robert Fynche; 1858, Fairholt, Vol. II. "Love's Metamorphosis." 1601, for William Wood; 1858, Fairholt, Vol. II. 66 'Sixe Court Comedies. Often Presented and Acted before Queene Elizabeth, by the Children of her Maiesties Chappell, and the Children of Paules. Written By the onely Rare Poet of that Time, The Wittie, Comicall, Facetiously-Quicke BIBLIOGRAPHY. cxciii and unparalleld: Iohn Lilly, Master of Arts. De- cies Repetita placebunt." London. Printed by William Stansby for Edward Blount, 1632. The "Sixe Comedies" are Endimion, Campaspe, Sapho and Phao, Gallathea, Mydas, and Mother Bombie. "Old English Plays; Being a Selection from the Early Dramatic Writers." 6 vols. London: for John Martin, 1814. "A Select Collection of Old Plays." (Dodsley's.) 12 vols. Vol. II. London: Septimus Prowett. 46 1825. The Dramatic Works of John Lyly." 2 vols. F. W. Fairholt. London: J. R. Smith, 1858. This collection includes Endimion; Sapho and Phao; Gallathea; Alexander and Campaspe; Mydas; Mother Bombie; The Woman in the Moone; and Love's Metamorphosis. The introduction to this edition has been largely superseded by later essays on Lyly. CHARACTER OF THE PLAYS, THEIR SOURCES, ETC. "Oberon's Vision in Midsummer Night's Dream, Illustrated by a Comparison with Lylie's Endymion. Rev. N. J. Halpin." Part II. of this gives Mr. Halpin's ingenious interpretation of the allegory he found in Lyly's play. "Memoirs of Robert Dudley. Collectanea Ada- mantæa XXIV." 4 vols. Privately printed. Edin- burgh, 1887. "Projets de Mariage de la Reine Élisabeth." H. de la Ferrière. Paris: Calmann Lévy, 1882. "John Lyly als Dramatiker." Inaugural-Disserta- tion von Karl Steinhäuser, 1884. Halle: Plötz'sche Buchdruckerei. cxciv BIBLIOGRAPHY, THE ACTORS OF LYLY'S PLAYS. "Das englische Kindertheater." Inaugural-Dis- sertation von A. Albrecht. Waisenhauses. Halle, 1883. Buchdruckerei des "The Children's Companies." Appleton Mor- gan. Shakesperiana, Vol. IX. No. 3. pp. 131-42. The Children of Powle's." G. P. Baker. Har- vard Monthly, May, 1891. " 66 Extracts from the Accounts of the Revels at Court." P. Cunningham. Shaks. Society, 1842. LYLY'S STYLE. "Der Euphuismus. Sein Wesen, seine Quelle, seine Geschichte, etc." Dr. Friedrich Landmann, Inaugural-Dissertation, 1881. See also his “Shak- spere and Euphuism" in the New Shakespeare Society's Proceedings, 1880-85, pt. 2, pp. 241-76. Studien zur Geschichte der italienischen Novelle in der englischen Litteratur des sechzehnten Jahır- hunderts." Emil Koeppel (Quellen und Forschun- gen zur Sprach- und Culturgeschichte der Germani- schen Völker, Heft 70). Strassburg: K. J. Trübner, 1892. Herr Koeppel, pp. 24-27, in treating George Pettie's Pettie Pallace of Pettie His Pleasure, 1576, points out that, except in the use of similes drawn from a fabulous Natural History, Pettie anticipated the style that Lyly established as Euphuism. 64 English Writers." Vol. VIII. Henry Morley. London: Cassell & Co., 1892. In pages 305-322 of this book, Professor Morley gives a very clear idea of the contents of the two books of the "Euphues," as well as an admirable exposition of the character- BIBLIOGRAPHY. CXCV istics of Lyly's style and of the theories in regard to its source. 64 Euphuism." J. M. Hart. Reprint from the Transactions of the Ohio Colleges, 1889. Sum- marizes Landmann's “Euphuismus" and its critics. "Shakespeare's Euphuism." W. L. Rushton, 1871. London: Longmans, Green & Co. IN GENERAL: BIOGRAPHICAL, BIBLIOGRAPHICAL, AND CRITICAL. "National Dictionary of Biography." Lyly. “The Works of Gabriel Harvey." Huth Library. 3 vols. A. B. Grosart, 1884. Printed for private circulation. The Works of Thomas Nash." Huth Library. 6 vols. A. B. Grosart, 1883-84. Printed for private circulation. Chronicle of the English Drama." 2 vols. F. G. Fleay, 1891. London: Reeves & Turner. See Vol. II. Lilly. 66 2 A History of English Dramatic Literature." vols. A. W. Ward, 1875. London: Macmillan & Co. See Vol. I. "The Predecessors of Shakespeare." J. A. Sy- monds, 1884. London: Smith, Elder & Co. Ch. XIII. "The English Novel in the Time of Shake- speare." J. J. Jusserand, 1890. London: T. F. Unwin. Chs. III. and IV. pp. 103–216. "Les Prédécesseurs et Contemporains de Shake- speare." A. Mezières. Ch. III. 1863. Paris: Char- pentier. "John Lyly and Shakespeare." C. C. Hense. cxcvi BIBLIOGRAPHY. Jahrbuch der deutschen Shaks. Gesellschaft, vols. 7 and 8. "History of the Stage." F. G. Fleay, 1890. London: Reeves & Turner. "The History of English 3 vols. J. P. Collier, 1879. Sons. See Vol. III. pp. 1–17. Dramatic Poetry.” London: G. Bell & English Writers." Vol. IX. pp. 195–209. "Huon of Bordeaux." Edited by Sidney Lee. Early Eng. Text Soc. 1883-88, pt. IV. pp. 785 seq. 1 ENDYMION, THE MAN IN THE MOON. PLAYED BEFORE THE QUEEN'S MAJESTY, AT GREEN- WICH, ON NEW YEAR'S DAY, AT NIGHT, BY THE CHILDREN OF PAUL'S.' The 'This is the reading of Blount's 1632 edition. original 1591 quarto reads: " Play'd before the Queene's Majestie at Greenewich on Candlemas day at night, by the Chyldren of Paules." I 5. DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. ENDYMION, in love with Cynthia. EUMENIDES, Friend of Endymion; in love with Semele. CORSITES, a Captain in Cynthia's army; in love with Tellus. GERON, an old man, husband to Dipsas. PANELION,' ZONTES, Lords of Cynthia's Court. PYTHAGORAS, the Grecian Philosopher. GYPTES, an Egyptian Soothsayer. SIR TOPHAS, a Braggart. SAMIAS, Page to Endymion. →→ DARES, Page to Eumenides. EPITON, Page to Sir Tophas. Master Constable. First Watchman. Second Watchman. CYNTHIA, Ruler of the land. TELLUS, in love with Endymion. FLOSCULA, Friend of Tellus and Endymion. SEMELE, loved by Eumenides. SCINTILLA, Waiting-maids; friends of Samias and Dares. FAVILLA, DIPSAS, an Enchantress. BAGOA, Servant of Dipsas. Fairies; Three Ladies and an Old Man in the Dumb Show. 1 Panelion. Dilke and Fairholt call this lord Pantalion, but in Blount he has this name only on his first appearance, in Act III., Scene 1. Later, wherever he is mentioned, (Act IV., Scene 3, Act V., Scenes 1 and 3,) he is called Panelion. 2 THE PROLOGUE. Most high and happy Princess, we must tell you a tale of the Man in the Moon;' which, if it seem ridiculous for the method, or superfluous for the matter, or for the means incredible, for. three faults we can make but one excuse-it is a tale of the Man in the Moon. 2 It was forbidden in old time to dispute of Chimæra because it was a fiction: we hope in our times none will apply pastimes, because they are fancies; for there liveth none under the sun that know what to make of the Man in the Moon. We present neither comedy, nor tragedy, nor story, nor anything but that whoso- ever heareth may say this: Why, here is a tale of the Man in the Moon. "" ¹A tale of the Man in the Moon. A 'wild story out of the reach of ordinary rules of criticism. Popular fable declared this man to be Isaac carrying sticks for his own sacrifice; Cain bearing the bundle of thorns unworth- ly sacrificed by him to the Deity; or the unfortunate man who gathered sticks on the Sabbath-day and was stoned by the Jews (see Book of Numbers, ch. xv., 32–36).”— Fairholt. • Apply pastimes. Make application of incidents or words in the play to political or other events. Lyly, like several of his successors, suffered from such application of his words. 3 ་་་་་“ཨང། ENDYMION.' ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I.2 Enter ENDYMION and EUMENIDES. Endymion. I find, Eumenides, in all things both variety to content, and satiety to glut, saving only in my affections, which are so staid, and withal so stately, that I can neither satisfy my 5 heart with love, nor mine eyes with wonder. My thoughts, Eumenides, are stitched to the stars, which being as high as I can see, thou 1 ¹ Endymion. Though this name suggests that the Endy- mion myth was used for this play, Lyly borrowed from it but two incidents, -the long sleep in the moonlight and the kiss of Selene (Cynthia). The rest of the play is to be attributed to the fantasy of Lyly, guided, Stein- häuser thinks, by thought of the Princely Pleasures at Kenilworth in 1575. See John Lyly als Dramatiker, "" Scene I. To place satisfactorily the scenes of this play actically impossible. Evidently, though there were 5 6 [ACT 1. ENDYMION. mayest imagine how much higher they are than I can reach. ΙΟ Eum. If you be enamoured of anything above to the moon, your thoughts are ridiculous, for that things immortal are not subject to affections; if allured or enchanted with these transitory things under the moon, you show yourself senseless, to attribute such lofty titles to such love-trifles. 15 End. My love is placed neither under the moon nor above. Eum. I hope you be not sotted' upon the Man in the Moon. some properties on the stage at times, like that made necessary by the transformation of Bagoa in the last act, there was no attempt at a stage set. Sometimes it is hard to tell where the scene is supposed to take place, as is the case in this first scene; sometimes the setting assigned to an incident in one scene is contradicted later: for in- stance, we hear of Endymion as sleeping, first on a bank of lunary (Act II. Sc. 3), but later, (Act II. Sc. 3,) when Corsites speaks of him, as asleep in a cabin. If there was no stage set, a slip like this meant nothing; if there was, how could it have been made? Moreover, in Act IV. Sc. 3, a set is impossible, for near the beginning of the scene Cynthia and her courtiers speak as if on the way from the court to the lunary banì, and yet a few lines later are evidently in the grove where the lunary bank is. In brief, then, Lyly's audience was to follow ir imagina tion where he led: if it was important to know the place, he gave a hint of it; if it was not, no one bothered about it; he could shift his place at will, even in the scene. ¹ Sotted, Besotted, bewitched with, SCENE I] 7 ENDYMION. • ! 20 25 30 35 40 End. No; but settied either to die or possess the moon herself. Eum. Is Endymion mad, or do I mistake? Do you love the moon, Endymion? End Eumenides, the moon. 2 Ein. There was never any so peevish' to image the moon either capable of affection or shape of a mistress; for as impossible it is to make love fit to her humor, which no man knoweth, as a coat to her form, which con- tinueth not in one bigness whilst she is measur- ing. Cease off, Endymion, to feed so much upon fancies. That melancholy blood must be purged which draweth you to a dotage no less miserable than monstrous. End. My thoughts have no veins, and yet unless they be let blood, I shall perish. Eum. But they have vanities, which being re- formed, you may be restored. End. O, fair Cynthia, why do others term thee inconstant whom I have ever found immovable?!= Injurious time, corrupt manners, unkind men, who, finding a constancy not to be matched in my sweet mistress, have christened her with the name of wavering, waxing, and waning! Is she 45 inconstant that keepeth a settled course; which, since her first creation, altereth not one minute in her moving? There is nothing thought more 1 Peevish. Foolish. 2 Fit to her humor., Blount and Dilke read, Sit to her humor. Corrected by Fairholt from the first quarto. Zei 8 [ACT I. ENDYMION. admirable or commendable in the sea than the ebbing and flowing; and shall the moon, from whom the sea taketh this virtue, be accounted 50 fickle for increasing ar decreasing? Flowers in their buds are nothing worth till they be blown, nor are blossoms ccounted till hey be ripe fruit; and shall we then say they be hange- able for that they grow from seeds to leaves, from 55 leaves to buds, from buds to their perfection ? Then, why be not twigs that become trees, chil- dren that become men, and mornings that grow to evenings, termed wavering, for that they con- tinue not at one stay? Ay, but Cynthia, being 60 in her fulness, decayeth, as not delighting in her greatest beauty, or withering when she should be most honored. When malice cannot making that a vice object anything, folly will, which is the greatest virtue. What thing (my 65 mistress excepted), being in the pride of her i beauty and latter minute of her age, that waxeth young again? Tell me, Eumenides, what is he that having a mistress of ripe years and infinite virtues, great honors and unspeak-70 able beauty, but would wish that she might grow tender again, getting youth by years, and never-decaying beauty by time; whose fair face neither the summer's blaze can scorch, nor win- ter's blast chap, nor the numbering of years 7 breed altering of colors? Such is my sweet Cynthia, whom time cannot touch because she is divine, nor will offend because she is delicate. SCENE I] 9 ENDYMION. O Cynthia, if thou shouldst always continue at so thy fulness, both gods and men would conspire to ravish thee. But thou, to abate the pride of our affections, dost detract from thy perfections, thinking it sufficient if once in a month we en- joy a glimpse of thy majesty; and then, to in- ad 85 crease our griefs, thou dost decrease thy gleams, hir coming out of thy royal robes, wherewith thou dazzlest our eyes, down into thy swathe clouts,' beguiling our eyes; and then- delude Eum. Stay there, Endymion; thou that com- 90 mittest idolatry, wilt straight blaspheme, if thou be suffered. Sleep would do thee more good sac than speech the moon heareth thee not, or if she do, regardeth thee not. End. Vain Eumenides, whose thoughts never 95 grow higher than the crown of thy head! Why troublest thou me, having neither head to con- ceive the cause of my love nor heart to receive the impressions? Follow thou thine own for- tunes, which creep on the earth, and suffer me 100 to fly to mine, whose fall, though it be desper- ate, yet shall it come by daring. Farewell. [Exit. Eum. Without doubt Endymion is bewitched; otherwise in a man of such rare virtues there could not harbor a mind of such extreme madness. 105 I will follow him, lest in this fancy of the moon he deprive himself of the sight of the sun. [Exit. 1 Swathe clouts. Swaddling-clothes. ΙΟ FACT I. ENDYMION. SCENE II. Enter TELLUS and FLOSCula. false Tellus. Treacherous and most perjured Endy- mion, is Cynthia the sweetness of thy life and the bitterness of my death? What revenge may be devised so full of shame as my thoughts are 110 replenished with malice? Tell me, Floscula, if falseness in love can possibly be punished with extremity of hate? As long as sword, fire, or poison may be hired, no traitor to my love shall live unrevenged. Were thy oaths without num- 115 ber, thy kisses without measure, thy sighs with- out end, forged to deceive a poor credulous vir- gin whose simplicity had been worth thy favor and better fortune? If the gods sit unequal beholders of injuries, or laughers at lovers' de- 120 ceits, then let mischief be as well forgiven in women as perjury winked at in men. Flosc. Madam, if you would compare the state of Cynthia with your own, and the height of Endymion's thoughts with the meanness of 125 your fortune, you would rather yield than con- tend, [there] being between you and her no comparison; and rather wonder than rage at the greatness of his mind, being affected with a thing more than mortal. Fellus. No comparison, Floscula? And why so? Is not my beauty divine, whose body is decked with fair flowers, and veins are vines, 130 А на عشر ser SCENE II] ENDYMION. II yielding sweet liquor to the dullest spirits 135 whose ears are corn, to bring strength; and whose hairs are grass, to bring abundance? Doth not frankincense and myrrh breathe out of my nostrils, and all the sacrifice of the gods breed in my bowels? Infinite are my creatures, with- out which neither thou, nor Endymion, nor any, could love or live. Flosc. But know you not, fair lady, that Cyn- thia governeth all things? Your grapes would be but dry husks, your corn but chaff, and all 145 your virtues vain, were it not Cynthia that pre- serveth the one in the bud and nourisheth the other in the blade, and by her influence both comforteth all things, and by her authority com- mandeth all creatures: suffer, then, Endymion 150 to follow his affections, though to obtain her be impossible, and let him flatter himself in his own imaginations, because they are immortal. Tellus. Loath I am, Endymion, thou shouldst die, because I love thee well; and that thou' 155 shouldst live, it grieveth me, because thou lovest 160 Cynthia too well. In these extremities, what shall I do? Floscula, no more words; I am re- solved. He shall neither live nor die. 2 Flosc. A strange practice, if it be possible. Tellus. Yes, I will entangle him in such a 1 Thou shouldst. "Thou" inserted by Fairhelt from first quarto. • Practice. Plot, plan. Y 12 [ACT I: ENDYMION. ཀཀ.. མ sweet net that he shall neither find the means to come out, nor desire it. All allurements of pleasure will I cast before his eyes, insomuch that he shall slake that love which he now vow- eth to Cynthia, and burn in mine, of which he 165 seemeth careless. In this languishing, between my amorous devices and his own loose desires, there shall such dissolute thoughts take root in his head, and over his heart grow so thick a skin, that neither hope of preferment, nor fear 170 of punishment, nor counsel of the wisest, nor company of the worthiest, shall alter his humor, nor make him once to think of his honor. Flosc. A revenge incredible, and if it may be, unnatural. 175 Tellus. He shall know the malice of a woman to have neither mean nor end; and of a woman deluded in love to have neither rule nor reason. I can do it; I must; I will! All his virtues will I shadow with vices; his person (ah, sweet 180 person!) shall he deck with such rich robes as he shall forget it is his own person; his sharp wit (ah, wit too sharp that hath cut off all my joys!) shall he use in flattering of my face and devising sonnets in my favor. The prime of his youth 185. and pride of his time shall be spent in mel- ancholy passions, careless behavior, untamed thoughts, and unbridled affections. Flosc. When this is done, what then? Shall it continue till his death, or shall he dote for- 190 ever in this delight? SCENE II.] 13 ENDYMION. 195 Tellus. Ah, Floscula, thou rendest my heart in sunder in putting me in remembrance of the end. Flosc. Why, if this be not the end, all the rest is to no end. Tellus. Yet suffer me to imitate Juno, who would turn Jupiter's lovers to beasts on the earth, though she knew afterwards they should 200 be stars in heaven. 205 Flosc. Affection that is bred by enchantment is like a flower that is wrought in silk,-in color and form most like, but nothing at all in sub, el... stance or savor. Tellus. It shall suffice.me if the world talk that I am favored of Endymion. Flosc. Well, use your own will; but you shall find that love gotten with witchcraft is as un- pleasant as fish taken with medicines unwhole- 210 some. Tellus. Floscula, they that be so poor that they have neither net nor hook will rather poison dough' than pine with hunger; and she that is so oppressed with love that she is neither able 215 with beauty nor wit to obtain her friend, will rather use unlawful means than try intolerable pains. I will do it. [Exit. Flosc. Then about it. Poor Endymion, what 1 Will rather poison dough. The sense here is: They that have neither net nor hook will rather poison dough (catch fish by means of poisoned dough-balls) than catch none at all and pine with hunger. } 14 [ACT 1. ENDYMION. traps are laid for thee because thou honorest one that all the world wondereth at ! And what 220 plots are cast to make thee unfortunate that studiest of all men to be the faithfulest! [Exit. SCENE III. Enter DARES and SAMIAS. Dares. Now our masters are in love up to the ears, what have we to do but to be in knavery up to the crowns? Samias. Oh, that we had Sir Tophas, that brave squire, in the midst of our mirth,-et ecce autem, "Will you see the Devil",- Enter at the opposite side of the stage Sir TOPHAS and EPI. Top. Epi. Epi. Here, sir. Top. I brook not this idle humor of love; it tickleth not my liver, from whence the love- 1 Enter. 225 230 Entrances on the public stage were of course from the back; whether this was equally true of per- formances at court is not so clear. Certainly there was sometimes more than one entrance, for in Love's Meta-.. morphosis Protea, supposedly standing on the sea-beach, says to Petulius: "Follow me at this door, and out at the other." Two entrances of this kind would make intelligible several of the scenes in Endymion in which characters but just entered see others enter immediately. The first group enters by one door, the second by another. - love! SCENE III.] 15 ENDYMION. 235 240 245 mongers in former ages seemed to infer it should! proceed. Epi. Love, sir, may lie in your lungs,-and I think it doth, and that is the cause you blow and are so pursy Shot widel Top. Tush, boy, I think it but some device of the poet to get money. Epi. A poet; what's that? Top. Dost thou not know what a poet is? Epi. No. Top. Why, fool, a poet is as much as one should say a poet. [Discovering DARES and SAMIAS.] But soft, yonder be two wrens; shall I shoot at them? Epi. They are two lads. Top. Larks or wrens, I will kill them. Epi. Larks! Are you blind? 250 little boys. 255 260 де They are two Top. Birds or boys, they are both but a pit- tance for my breakfast; therefore have at them, for their brains must as it were embroider my bolts.' [SAMIAS and DARES come forward.] Sam. Stay your courage, valiant knight, for your wisdom is so weary that it stayeth itself. Dar. Why, Sir Tophas, have you forgotten your old friends? Top. Friends? Nego argumentum. 'Embroider my bolts. Embroider is used pedantically. Bird-bolts were flat-headed arrows used to knock down small birds. Есту A. they ? 10 Le were ** when. ་ 16 ENDÝMION. Sam. And why not friends? [ACT 1. Top. Because amicitia (as in old annals we find) is inter pares. Now, my pretty companions, you shall see how unequal you be to me; but I will not cut you quite off, you shall be my half- 265 friends for reaching to my middle; so far as from the ground to the waist I will be your friend. Dar. Learnedly. But what shall become of the rest of your body, from the waist to the 270 crown? Top. My children, quod supra vos nihil ad vos ; you must think the rest immortal, because you cannot reach it. Epi. Nay, I tell ye my master is more than a 275 man. Dar. And thou less than a mouse. Top. But what be you two? Sam. I am Samias, page to Endymion. Dar. And I Dares, page to Eumenides. Top. Of what occupation are your masters? Dar. Occupation, you clown! Why, they are honorable and warriors. Top. Then are they my prentices.) Dar. Thine! And why so? 2 Top. I was the first that ever devised war, and therefore by Mars himself had given me for my Here, apparently, Sir Tophas measures heights with the pages, and then goes on with his speech. 1 To me. 2 Had given. Neither the first edition nor Blount's has any word where had stands. The editor has followed Fairholt in using had; Dilke prints was. 280 285 SCENE III.] 17 ENDYMION. arms a whole armory; and thus I go, as you see, clothed with artillery. It is not silks, milksops, 290 nor tissues, nor the fine wool of Ceres, but iron, steel, swords, flame, shot, terror, clamor, blood, and ruin, that rock asleep my thoughts, which never had any other cradle but cruelty. Let me see, do you not bleed? 295 Dar. Why so? Top. Commonly my words wound. Sam. What then do your blows? Topbabe Top. Not only wound, but also confound.' Sam. How darest thou come so near thy mas- 300 ter, Epi? Sir Tophas, spare. us. Top. You shall live-you, Samias, because you are little; you, Dares, because you are no bigger; and both of you, because you are but 1 ¹ Not only wound. Both the first edition and Blount's read here: "Not only confound, but also confound." Dilke endeavored to improve the passage by reading: "Not only confound, but also contund," saying in explanation, 'They not only amaze, but strike down." He was forced to adinit, however, that he had never seen the word con- tund in English, and that another interpretation of the pas- sage might be given. By this, these words become sim- ilar in spirit to Sir Tophas's "Why, fool, a poet is as much as one should say-a poet," and should be read: They not only confound, but also-confound." Fair- holt, whom the editor follows, considers the first confound a printer's anticipation of the second. Sir Tophas has just said that his words wound; when asked what his blows do, with his fondness for antithesis he says: "No only wound, but also confound" (destroy). t's [ACT 1. た ​ENDYMION. 18 "Wan two; for commonly I kill by the dozen, and have for every particular adversary a peculiar 305 weapon.- Sam. May we know the use, for our better skill in war? Top. You shall. Here is a bird-bolt for the ugly beast the blackbird. Dar. A cruel sight. Top. Here is the musket for the untamed or, as the vulgar sort term it, the wild mallard.' Sam. O desperate attempt ! Epi. Nay, my master will match them. Dar. Ay, if he catch them. 310 315 Top. Here is a spear and shield, and both necessary, the one to conquer, the other to sub- due or overcome the terrible trout, which although he be under the water, yet tying a string to the 320 top of my spear and an engine of iron to the end. of_my_line, I overthrow him, and then herein I put him. Sam. O wonderful war! [Aside.] Dares, didst thou-ever hear such a dolt? Dar. [Aside.] All the better; we shall have good sport hereafter, if we can get leisure. 325 Sam. [Aside.] Leisure! I will rather lose my master's service than his company! Look now he struts. [To Sir TOPHAS.] But what is this ? 330 Call you it your sword? Top. No, it is my simitar; which I, by con- → ¹ Wild mallard. The wild drake. SCENE III.] 19 ENDYMION. 335 Бреп struction often studying to be compendious, call my smiter. Dar. What, are you also learned, sir? Top. Learned? I am all Mars and Ars, Sam. Nay, you are all mass and ass. Top. Mock you me? You shall both suffer, yet with such weapons as you shall make choice 340 of the weapon wherewith you shall perish. Am I all a mass or lump; is there no proportion in me? Am I all ass; is there no wit in me? Epi, prepare them to the slaughter. Sam. I pray, sir, hear us speak! We call you 345 mass, which your learning doth well understand is all man, for mas maris is a man. Then as (as you know) is a weight, and we for your virtues account you a weight. 350 355 S lop. The Latin hath saved your lives, the which a world of silver could not have ran- somed. I understand you, and pardon you. Dar. Well, Sir Tophas, we bid you farewell, and at our next meeting we will be ready to do you service. Top. Samias, I thank you: Dares, I thank you: but especially I thank you both. Sam. Wisely. [Aside.] Come, next time we'll have some pretty gentlewomen with us to walk, for without doubt with them he will be very 360 dainty. Dar. Come, let us see what our masters do; it is high time. [Exeunt SAMIAS and DARES. Top. Now will I march into the field, where, if 20 [ACT I. ENDYMION. I cannot encounter with my foul enemies, I will withdraw myself to the river, and there fortify 365 for fish, for there resteth no minute free from fight. [Exeunt Sir TOPHAS and EPITON. SCENE IV. Enter at one side FLOSCULA and TELLUS, at the other DIPSAS. Tellus. Behold, Floscula, we have met with the woman by chance that we sought for by travel. I will break my mind to her without cere- 370 mony or circumstance, lest we lose that time in advice that should be spent in execution. Flosc. Use your discretion; I will in this case neither give counsel nor consent, for there can- not be a thing more monstrous than to force 375 affection by sorcery, neither do I imagine any- thing more impossible. - Tellus. Tush, Floscula, in obtaining of love, what impossibilities will I not try? And for the winning of Endymion, what impieties will I not 380 practise? [Crossing to DIPSAS.] Dipsas, whom as many honor for age as wonder at for cunning, listen in few words to my tale, and answer in one word to the purpose, for that neither my burn- ing desire can afford long speech, nor the short 385 time I have to stay many delays. Is it possible by herbs, stones, spells, incantation, enchantment, exorcisms, fire, metals, planets, or any practice, to plant affection where it is not, and to sup- plant it where it is? 390 1 SCENE IV.] 21 ENDYMION. 395 Dipsas. Fair lady, you may imagine that these hoary hairs are not void of experience, nor the great name that goeth of my cunning to be without cause. I can darken the sun by my skill and remove the moon out of her course; I can restore youth to the aged and make hills without bottoms; there is nothing that I can not do but that only which you would have me do: and therein I differ from the gods, that I 400 am not able to rule hearts; for were it in my power to place affection by appointment, I would make such evil appetites, such inordinate lusts, such cursed desires, as all the world should be filled both with superstitious heats and extreme 405 love. Tellus. Unhappy Tellus, whose desires are so desperate that they are neither to be conceived of any creature, nor to be cured by any art! Dipsas. This I can : breed slackness in love, 410 though never root it out. What is he whom you love, and what she that he honoreth? Tellus. Endymion, sweet Endymion is he that hath my heart; and Cynthia, too, too fair Cynthia, the miracle of nature, of time, of for- 415 tune, is the lady that he delights in, and dotes on every day, and dies for ten thousand times a day. Dipsas. Would you have his love either by absence or sickness aslaked? Would you that ¹ Aslaked. Abated. 22 [ACT II. END YMION. Cynthia should mistrust him, or be jealous of 42c him without color? Tellus. It is the only thing I crave, that, see- ing my love to Endymion, unspotted, cannot be accepted, his truth to Cynthia, though it be un- speakable, may be suspected. Dipsas. I will undertake it, and overtake' him, that all his love shall be doubted of, and there- fore become desperate: but this will wear out with time that treadeth all things down but truth. Tellus. Let us go. Dipsas. I follow. [Exeunt TELLUS and FLOSCULA, DIPSAS. 425 430 following them ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I. Enter ENDYMION. Endymion. O fair Cynthia! O unfortunate 435 Endymion! Why was not thy birth as high as thy thoughts, or her beauty less than heavenly; or why are not thine honors as rare as her beauty, or thy fortunes as great as thy deserts ? Sweet Cynthia, how wouldst thou be pleased, 44′ how possessed? Will labors, patient of all ex- tremities, obtain thy love? There is no moun- 1 Overtake. Overcome. 2 That. So that. SCENE I.] 23. ENDYMION. tain so steep that I will not climb, no monster so cruel that I will not tame, no action so des- 445 perate that I will not attempt. Desirest thou the passions of love, the sad and melancholy moods of perplexed minds, the not-to-be-ex- pressed torments of racked thoughts? Behold my sad tears, my deep sighs, my hollow eyes, 450 my broken sleeps, my heavy countenance. Wouldst thou have me vowed only to thy beauty and consume every minute of time in thy service? Remember my solitary life almost these seven years. Whom have I entertained 455 but mine own thoughts and thy virtues? What company have I used but contemplation? Whom have I wondered at but thee? Nay, whom have I not contemned for thee? Have I not crept to those on whom I might have trodden, only 460 because thou didst shine upon them? Have not injuries been sweet to me, if thou vouch- safedst I should bear them? Have I not spent my golden years in hopes, waxing old with wishing, yet wishing nothing but thy love? With 465 Tellus, fair Tellus, have I dissembled, using her but as a cloak for mine affections, that others, seeing my mangled and disordered mind, might, think it were for one that loveth me, not for Cynthia, whose perfection alloweth no compan- ion nor comparison. In the midst of these dis- tempered thoughts of mine thou art not only jealous of my truth, but careless, suspicious, and secure; which strange humor maketh my ར་ངང་་་་ 24 [ACT II- ENDYMION. х mind as desperate as thy conceits are doubtful. I am none of those wolves that bark most when 475 thou shinest brightest, but that fish (thy fish,' Cynthia, in the flood Araris) which at thy wax- ing is as white as the driven snow, and at thy waning as black as deepest darkness. I am that Endymion, sweet Cynthia, that have carried my 480 thoughts in equal balance with my actions, being always as free from imagining ill as enter- prising; that Endymion whose eyes never es- teemed anything fair but thy face, whose tongue termed nothing rare but thy virtues, and whose 485 heart imagined nothing miraculous but thy gov- ernment; yea, that Endymion, who, divorcing himself from the amiableness of all ladies, the bravery of all courts, the company of all men, hath chosen in a solitary cell to live, only by 490 feeding on thy favor, accounting in the world- but thyself-nothing excellent, nothing immor- tal: thus mayest thou see every vein, sinew, muscle, and artery of my love, in which there is no flattery, nor deceit, error, nor art. But soft, 495 here cometh Tellus. I must turn my other face to her, like Janus, lest she be as suspicious as Juno. ¹ Thy fish. "I see now that as the fish Scolopidus in the flood Araris, at the waxing of the moone is as white as the driven snow, and at the wayning as black as the burnt coale .. ”—Anat. of Wit, p. 89, Arber. SCENE I.] ENDYMION. مسایی در دویم 500 E Enter TELLUS, FLOSCULA, and DIPSAS. Tellus. Yonder I espy Endymion. I will seem to suspect nothing, but soothe him, that seeing I cannot obtain the depth of his love, I may learn the height of his dissembling. Floscula and Dipsas, withdraw yourselves out of our 505 sight, yet be within the hearing of our salut- ing. [FLOSCULA and DIPSAS withdraw. TELLUS comes forward.] How now, Endymion, always solitary? No company but your own thoughts, no friend but melancholy fancies? 510 515 End. You know, fair Tellus, that the sweet remembrance of your love is the only companion of my life, and thy presence, my paradise; so that I am not alone when nobody is with me, and in heaven itself when thou art with me Tellus. Then you love me, Endymion? End. Or else I live not, Tellus. Tellus. Is it not possible for you, Endymion, to dissemble? End. Not, Tellus, unless I could make me a 520 woman. Tellus. Why, is dissembling joined to their sex inseparable, as heat to fire, heaviness to earth,-- moisture to water, thinness to air? End. No, but found in their sex as common 525 as spots upon doves, moles upon faces, cater- pillars upon sweet apples, cobwebs upon fair windows. Tellus. Do they all dissemble? End. All but one. ENDYMION. [ACT. II. Tellus. Who is that? End. I dare not tell; for if I should say you, then would you imagine my flattery to be ex- extreme; if another, then would you think my love to be but indifferent. 530 Tellus. You will be sure I shall take no van- 535 tage of your words. But in sooth, Endymion, without more ceremonies, is it not Cynthia? End. You know, Tellus, that of the gods we are forbidden to dispute, because their deities come not within the compass of our reasons ; 540 and of Cynthia we are allowed not to talk but to wonder, because her virtues are not within the reach of our capacities. Tellus. Why, she is but a woman. End. No more was Venus. Tellus. She is but a virgin. End. No more was Vesta. Tellus. She shall have an end. End. So shall the world. - Tellus. Is not her beauty subject to time? End. No more than time is to standing still. Tellus. Wilt thou make her immortal? End. No, but incomparable. 545 $50 Tellus. Take heed, Endymion, lest like the wrestler in Olympia,' that striving to lift an im- 555 possible weight catched an incurable strain, 1 Olympia. "But it falleth out with me, as with the young wrestler, that came to the games of Olympia, who having taken a foil, thought scorn to leave, till he ñad received a fall, or him that being pricked in the finger with a Bramble, thrus teth his whole arm among the thorns for SCENE II27 11.. ENDYMION. ] 560 But I see thou, by fixing thy thoughts above thy reach, fall into a disease without all recure.' thou art now in love with Cynthia. End. No, Tellus, thou knowest that the stately cedar, whose top reacheth unto the clouds, never boweth his head to the shrubs that grow in the valley; nor ivy, that climbeth up by the elm, can ever get hold of the beams of the sun: 565 Cynthia I honor in all humility, whom none, ought or dare adventure to love, whose affec- tions are immortal, and virtues infinite. Suffer me, therefore, to gaze on the moon, at whom, were it not for thyself, I would die with won- 570 dering. [Exeunt ENDYMION and TELLUS. SCENE II. رید Enter DARES, SAMIAS, SCINTILLA, and FAVILLA. Dar. Come, Samias, didst thou ever hear such a sighing, the one for Cynthia, the other for Semele, and both for moonshine in the water? Sam. Let them sigh, and let us sing. How 575 say you, gentlewomen, are not our masters too far in love? Scint. Their tongues, haply, are dipped to the root in amorous words and sweet discourses, but I think their hearts are scarce tipped on the 580 side with constant desires. anger.”—Epistle Dedicatory, Euphues and his England, Arber, p. 216. 1 ¹ Recure. Recovery; used both as a verb and as a sub- antive by Lyly. wned ph а } 28 боле ENDYMION. [ACT 11. Dar. How say you, Favilla, is not love a lurcher,' that taketh men's stomachs away that they cannot eat, their spleen that they cannot laugh, their hearts that they cannot fight, their eyes that they cannot sleep, and leaveth nothing 585 but livers to make nothing but lovers! 2 Favil. Away, peevish boy; a rod were better under thy girdle than love in thy mouth! It will be a forward cock that croweth in the shell. Dar. Alas, good old gentlewoman, how it be- 590 cometh you to be grave! Scint. Favilla, though she be but a spark, yet is she fire.. Favil. And you, Scintilla, be not much more than a spark, though you would be esteemed a 595 flame. Sam. [Aside to Dares.] It were good sport to see the fight between two sparks. Dar. [To Samias.] Let them to it, and we will warm us by their words. Scint. You are not angry, Favilla? Favil. That is, Scintilla, as you list to take it. San. That, that!" 600 Scint. This it is to be matched with girls, who coming but yesterday from making of babies,* 605 would before to-morrow be accounted matrons. 1 A lurcher. A sneak-thief. 2 Livers. See Act I., Sc. 3, line 232. 3 That, that! Samias urges on the dispute, as a boy cries "Sic 'em!" • Babies. Dolls, SCENE 11.] 29 ENDYMION. کت Favil. I cry your matronship mercy. Because your pantables' be higher with cork, therefore your feet must needs be higher in the insteps: 610 you will be mine elder because you stand upon a stool and I on the floor. 615 Sam. Good, good! Dar. [To Samias.] Let them love, and see with what countenance they will become friends. Scint. Nay, you think to be the wiser, because you mean to have the last word. Sam. [To Dares.] Step between them lest they scratch. In faith, gentlewomen, seeing we came out to be merry, let not your jarring mar our 620 jests; be friends. How say you? 625 Scint. I am not angry, but it spited me to see how short she was. 2 Favil. I meant nothing till she would needs cross me. Dar. Then, so let it rest. Scint. I am agreed. Favil. And I. Yet I never took anything so unkindly in my life. [Weeps. Scint. 'Tis I have the cause, that never offered 630 the occasion. [Weeps. Dar. Excellent, and right like a woman. Sam. A strange sight to see water come out of fire. Dar. It is their property to carry in their eyes ¹ Pantables. Loose shoes of enriched materials. They were sometimes raised by thick soles and high heels. • Short. Pettishly abrupt. 30 [ACT II. ENDYMION. f fire and water, tears and torches, and in their 635 mouths honey and gall. Enter at the opposite side Sir TOPHAS and EPITON. Scint. You will be a good one if you live- but what is yonder formal fellow? Dar. Sir Tophas, Sir Tophas, of whom we told you. If you be good wenches, make as o though you love him, and wonder at him. Favil. We will do our parts. 1 Dar. But first let us stand aside, and let him use his garb, for all consisteth in his gracing. [The four stand aside. Top. Epi. Epi. At hand, sir. Top. How likest thou this martial life, whe nothing but blood besprinkleth our bosoms? Let me see, be our enemies fat? 64 Epi. Passing fat and I would not change 650 this life to be a lord; and yourself passeth all comparison, for other captains kill and beat, and there is nothing you kill, but you also eat. Top. I will draw out their guts out of their bel- lies, and tear the flesh with my teeth, so mortal is 655 my hate, and so eager my unstaunched stomach. Epi. [Aside.] My master thinks himself the valiantest man in the world if he kill a wren; so 2 Let me see. ¹ Use his garb. Show his demeanor, style, fashion. Here, and in his next speech, Sir Tophas refers to the trout for which he went in Scene 3, Act I. These Epiton is now carrying. SCENE II.] 31 ENDYMION. warlike a thing he accounteth to take away life, 660 though it be from a lark. 670 Top. Epi, I find my thoughts to swell and my spirit to take wings, insomuch that I cannot continue within the compass of so slender com- bats. Favil. This passeth!' Scint. Why, is he not mad? Sam. No, but a little vainglorious. Top. Epi. Epi. Sir. A Aside. 2 Top. I will encounter that black and cruel enemy that beareth rough and untewed locks upon his body, whose sire throweth down the trongest walls, whose legs are as many as both rs, on whose head are placed most horrible 65 horns by nature as a defence from all harms. Epi. What mean you, master, to be so des- perate ? 6810 Top. Honor inciteth me, and very hunger compelleth me. Epi. What is that monster? Top. The monster ovis. I have said,-let thy wits work. 44 Epi. I cannot imagine it. Yet let me see,—a black enemy" with "rough locks." It may be 685 a sheep, and ovis is a sheep. His sire so strong: a ram is a sheep's sire, that being also an engine of war. Horns he hath, and four legs,—so hath This passeth. Exceeds belief, or "beats all." 2 Untewed. Uncombed. 32 [AG ENDYMION. a sheep. Without doubt, this monster is a black sheep. Is it not a sheep that you mean? Top. Thou hast hit it: that monster will kill and sup with. Sam. [Aside.] Come let us take him off. [SAMIAS, DARES, FAVILLA, and SCINTILLA come forward.] Sir Tophas, all hail. Top. Welcome, children; I seldom cast min eyes so low as to the crowns of your heads, and therefore pardon me that I spake not all his while. 690 Dar. No harm done. Here be fair ladies come to wonder at your person, your valor, your 700 wit, the report whereof hath made them care- less of their own honors,-to glut their eyes and hearts upon yours. Top. Report cannot but injure me, for that not knowing fully what I am, I fear she hath been 05 a niggard in her praises. Scint. No, gentle knight, report hath been prodigal, for she hath left you no equal, nor her self credit, so much hath she told,-yet no more than we now see. Dar. A good wench. 1710 Favil. If there remain as much pity toward women as there is in you courage against your enemies, then shall we be happy, who, hearing of your person, came to see it, and seeing it, are 715 now in love with it. Top. Love me, ladies? I easily believe it, but my tough heart receiveth no impression with 5 VE II ] 33 ENDYMION. are ^ sweet words. Mars may pierce it, Venus shall 720 not paint on it. 15 Favil. A cruel saying. Sam. There's a girl. し ​Dar. Will you cast these ladies away, and all for a little love? Do but speak kindly. Top. There cometh no soft syllable within my lips; custom hath made my words bloody and my heart barbarous: that pelting' word love, how waterish in my mouth; it carrieth no sound; hate, horror, death, are speeches that nourish 730 my spirits. I like honey, but I care not for the bees; I delight in music, but I love not to play on the bagpipes; I can vouchsafe to hear the voice of women, but to touch their bodies I dis- dain it as a thing childish and fit for such men 735 as can digest nothing but milk. 740 745 Scint. A hard heart! Shall we die for your love and find no remedy? Top. I have already taken a surfeit. Epi. Good master, pity them. Top. Pity them, Epi? No, I do not think that this breast shall be pestered with such a foolish passion. What is that the gentlewoman carrieth in a chain? Epi. Why, it is a squirrel. C Top. A squirrel? O gods, what things are made for money?" 1 ¹ Pelting. Paltry, contemptible. 2 Mode for money. Does Sir Tophas try to reflect on Scintilla's character by playing on the word squirrel? It Ст 34 [ACT 11. ENDYMION. MG with Dar. Is not this gentleman over-wise? Favil. I could stay all day with him, if I feared not to be shent.' Scint. Is it not possible to meet again? Dar. Yes, at any time. Favil. Then let us hasten home. Scint. Sir Tophas, the god of war deal better with you than you do with the god of love. - 750 Favil. Our love we may dissemble, digest we 755 cannot; but I doubt not but time will hamper you and help us. Top. I defy time, who hath no interest in my heart. Come, Epi, let me to the battle with that hideous beast: love is pap, and hath no relish in 760 my taste because it is not terrible. [Exeunt Sir TOPHAS and EPITON. Dar. Indeed a black sheep is a perilous beast, -but let us in till another time. Favil. I shall long for that time. [Exeunt SAMIAS, DARES, FAVILLA and SCINTILLA. SCENE III. Enter ENDYMION. 765 End. No rest, Endymion; still uncertain how to settle thy steps by day or thy thoughts by night! Thy truth is measured by thy fortune, and thou art judged unfaithful because thou art 770 was a cant term for a prostitute. See Grose's Dictionary of Slang. Shent Reproved harshly. CENE III.] 35 ENDYMION. 775 unhappy. I will see if I can beguile myself with sleep, and if no slumber will take hold in my eyes, yet will I embrace the golden thoughts in my head, and wish to melt by musing; that as ebony, which no fire can scorch, is yet con- sumed with sweet savors, so my heart, which cannot be bent by the hardness of fortune, may be bruised by amorous desires. On yonder bank never grew anything but lunary,' and here- 780 after I will never have any bed but that bank. O Endymion, Tellus was fair. But what availeth beauty without wisdom? Nay, Endymion, she was wise. But what availeth wisdom without honor? She was honorable, Endymion; belie 785 her not. Ay, but how obscure is honor without fortune. Was she not fortunate, whom so many followed? Yes, yes, but base is fortune without majesty thy majesty, Cynthia, all the world knoweth and wondereth at, but not one in the 790 world that can imitate it or comprehend it. No more, Endymion. Sleep or die. Nay, die, for to sleep, it is impossible ;--and yet I know not how it cometh to pass, I feel such a heaviness both in mine eyes and heart that I am suddenly be- 795 numbed, yea, in every joint. It may be weari- ness, for when did I rest? It may be deep 1 Lunary. Moonwort. "I have heard of an herb called Lunary that being bound to the pulses of the sick cause nothing but dreams of weddings and dances.” Act III., Sc. 3, Sapho and Phao. 36 [ACT II ENDYMION. melancholy, for when did I not sigh? Cynthia! Ay, so I say, Cynthia ! He falls asle Enter DIPSAS and BAGOA. DIPSAS, seeing ENDYMION, crosses to him.¹ Dipsas. Little dost thou know, Endymion, when thou shalt wake, for hadst thou placed 800 thy heart as low in love as thy head lieth now in sleep, thou mightest have commanded Tellus, whom now, instead of a mistress, thou shalt find a tomb. These eyes must I seal up by art, not nature, which are to be opened neither by art 805 nor nature. Thou that liest down with golden locks shalt not wake until they be turned to sil- ver hairs; and that chin on which scarcely ap- peareth soft down shall be filled with bristles as › Enter Dipsas. The stage directions are hard to ar- range here. It is rather difficult to tell whether Endymion enters, dogged by Dipsas and Bagoa; enters, goes to sleep, and is discovered by Dipsas and Bagoa; or comes in and falls asleep near the hut of Dipsas, whence Dipsas and her maid watch him, coming forward as soon as he falls asleep. The editor has chosen the second interpre- tation as the least radical. On p. 22, in the interview with Tellus, Dipsas promised only to make Endymion's love doubted, not to charm him into a long sleep. In the early part of the scene there is nothing to support the idea that Dipsas and Bagoa watch from the witch's hut. If this had been intended, some dialogue be- tween Dipsas and Bagoa would probably have preceded the entrance of Endymion. SCENE III. II.] 37 ENDYMION. 810 hard as broom. Thou shalt sleep out thy youth and flowering time, and become dry hay before thou knowest thyself green grass; and ready by age to step into the grave when thou wakest,. that wast youthful in the court when thou laidest 815 thee down to sleep. The malice of Tellus hath brought this to pass, which if she could not have intreated of me by fair means, she would have commanded by menacing, for from her gather we all our simples to maintain our sorceries. 820 [To BAGOA.] Fan with this hemlock over his face, and sing the enchantment for sleep, whilst I go in and finish those ceremonies that are required in our art. Take heed ye touch not his face, for the fan is so seasoned that whoso 825 it toucheth with a leaf shall presently die, and over whom the wind of it breatheth, he shall sleep forever. Bagoa. Let me alone; I will be careful. [Exit DIPSAS.] What hap hadst thou, Endymion, to 830 come under the hands of Dipsas? O fair En- dymion, how it grieveth me that that fair face must be turned to a withered skin and taste the pains of death before it feel the reward of love! I fear Tellus will repent that which the heavens themselves seemed to rue. But I hear Dipsas coming; I dare not repine, lest she make me pine, and rock me into such a deep sleep that I shall not awake to my marriage. 835 Re-enter DIPSAS. Dipsas. How now, have you finished? 38 [ACT II. SC. III. ENDYMION. Bagoa. Yea.¹ 840 Dipsas. Well then, let us in; and see that you do not so much as whisper that I did this, for if you do, I will turn thy hairs to adders and all thy teeth in thy head to tongues. Come away, come away. [Exeunt DIPSAS and BAGOA. 845 A DUMB SHOW." Music sounds. Three ladies enter: one with a knife and a looking-glass, who, by the procurement of one of the other two, offers to stab Endymion as he sleeps; but the third wrings her hands, lament- eth, offering still to prevent it, but dares not. At 850 last, the first lady looking in the glass, casts down the knife. [Exeunt the Three Ladies. Enters an ancient man with books with three leaves; offers the same twice. Endymion refuseth. He* rendeth' two, and offers the third, where he 855 1 ¹ Yea. Apparently a song has been lost here. None appears in any of the editions, but the opportunity offered was too good for Lyly to have passed it by. It should be remembered that the songs appeared first in Blount's edition he may have overlooked this place, or the song may already have been lost. 2 Dumb show. Omitted in first edition. Given by Blount in 1632. 3 Twice. The similarity of this to the story of Tarquin and the Sibyl with her nine books will be noticed. • He. The Old Man. A 5 Rendeth. Original readeth. The similarity of the directions to the Tarquin story suggests the reading ACT III, SC. I.] 39 ENDYMION. stands awhile; and then Endymion offers to take it. [Exit the Old Man. 860 ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. Enter CYNTHIA, EUMENIDES, TELLUS, SEMELE, CORSITES, PANELION, and ZONTES.' Cynthia. Is the report true, that Endymion is stricken into such a dead sleep that nothing can either wake him or move him? Eum. Too true, madam, and as much to be pitied as wondered at. Tellus. As good sleep and do no harm as wake and do no good. Cynth. What maketh you, Tellus, to be so 865 short? The time was Endymion only was.' Eum. It is an old saying, madam, that a waking dog doth afar off bark at a sleeping lion. Sem. It were good, Eumenides, that you took a nap with your friend, for your speech beginneth 870 to be heavy, Eum. Contrary to your nature, Semele, which hath been always accounted light. rendeth, and p. 84, "he rent the first leaf," shows that this is the right word. 1 Zontes. The old editions read: "Cynthia, three Lords, Tellus," but it is evident from the text that the persons named above are those present in the scene. 2 Endymion only was. Only Endymion was thought of. B 40 [ACT III. ENDYMION. 1 I Cynth. What, have we here before my face these unseemly and malapert overthwarts!' will tame your tongues and your thoughts, and 875 make your speeches answerable to your duties, and your conceits fit for my dignity, else will I banish you both my person and the world. Eum. Pardon I humbly ask; but such is my unspotted faith to Endymion that whatsoever 880 seemeth a needle to prick his finger is a dagger to wound my heart. Cynth. If you be so dear to him, how hap- peneth it you neither go to see him, nor search for remedy for him? 885 Eum. I have seen him to my grief, and sought recure with despair, for that I cannot imagine who should restore him that is the wonder to all men. Your Highness, on whose hands the compass of the earth is at command, though not 890 in possession, may show yourself both worthy your sex, your nature, and your favor, if you redeem that honorable Endymion, whose ripe years foretell rare virtues, and whose unmellowed conceits promise ripe counsel. Cynth. I have had trial of Endymion, and conceive greater assurance of his age than I could hope of his youth. 895 Tellys But timely, madam, crooks that tree that will be a cammock, and young it pricks 900 2 ¹ Malapert overth warts. Impertinent wranglings. ? Cammock. A crooked tree. SCENE I.] 4I END YMION. ? that will be a thorn; and therefore he that began without care to settle his life, it is a sign without amendment he will end it. Cynth. Presumptuous girl, I will make thy 905 tongue an example of unrecoverable displeasure. Corsites, carry her to the castle in the desert, there to remain and weave. Cors. Shall she work stories or poetries? འ Cynth. It skilleth not which.' Go to, in both; 910 for she shall find examples infinite in either what punishment long tongues have. Eumeni- des, if either the soothsayers in Egypt, or the enchanters in Thessaly, or the philosophers in Greece, or all the sages of the world, can find 9fs remedy, I will procure it; therefore, dispatch with all speed you, Eumenides, into Thessaly; you, Zontes, into Greece, because you are ac- quainted in Athens; you, Panelion, to Egypt; saying that Cynthia sendeth, and if you will, 920 commandeth. 925 Eum. On bowed knee I give thanks, and with wings on my legs, I fly for remedy. Zon. We are ready at Your Highness' com- mand, and hope to return to your full content. Cynth. It shall never be said that Cynthia, whose mercy and goodness filleth the heavens · with joys and the world with marvel, will suffer either Endymion or any to perish, if he may be protected. 1 It skilleth not. It matters not, it does not signify. 42 [ACT III. ENDYMION. Eum. Your Majesty's words have been always`930 \deeds, and your deeds virtues. T: SCENE II. [Exeunt all. 1 Enter CORSITES and TELLUS. Cors. Here is the castle, fair Tellus, in which you must weave, till either time end your days, or Cynthia her displeasure. I am sorry so fair a face should be subject to so hard a fortune, 935 and that the flower of beauty, which is honored in courts, should here wither in prison. Tellus. Corsites, Cynthia may restrain the liberty of my body, of my thoughts she cannot ; and therefore do I esteem myself most free, 940 though I am in greatest bondage. Cors. Can you then feed on fancy, and sub- due the malice of envy by the sweetness of imagination? Tellus. Corsites, there is no sweeter music to 945 the miserable than despair; and therefore the more bitterness I feel, the more sweetness I find; for so vain were liberty, and so unwel- come the following of higher fortune, that I choose rather to pine in this castle than to be a 950 prince in any other court. Cors. A humor contrary to your years and nothing agreeable to your sex: the one com- monly allured with delights, the other always. with sovereignty. Tellus. I marvel, Corsites, that you being a 955 SCENE III43 11.. END YMION. ] Hie captain, who should sound nothing but terror and suck nothing but blood, can find in your heart to talk such smooth words, for that it 960 agreeth not with your calling to use words so soft as that of love. Cors. Lady, it were unfit of wars to discourse with women, into whose minds nothing can sink but smoothness; besides, you must not think 965 that soldiers be so rough-hewn, or of such knotty mettle, that beauty cannot allure, and you, being beyond perfection, enchant. Tellus. Good Corsites, talk not of love, but let me to my labor: the little beauty I have 970 shall be bestowed on my loom, which I now mean to make my lover. Cors. Let us in, and what favor Corsites can show, Tellus shall command. Tellus. The only favor I desire is now and 975 then to walk. [Exeunt CORSITES and TELLUS. SCENE III. Enter Sir TOPHAS and EPITON. Tophas. Epi. 980 Epi. Here, sir. Tophas. Unrig me. Heigho! Epi. What's that? Tophas. An interjection, whereof some are of mourning as eho, vah. Epi. I understand you not. Tophas. Thou seest me. Epi. Ay. 44 [ACT III. ENDYMION. Tophas. Thou hearest me. 985 Epi. Ay. Tophas. Thou feelest me. Epi. Ay. Tophas. And not understandest me? Epi. No. Tophas. Then am I but three-quarters of a noun substantive. But alas, Epi, to tell thee the truth, I am a noun adjective.' Epi. Why? 990 Tophas. Because I cannot stand without 995 another. Epi. Who is that? Tophas. Dipsas. Epi. Are you in love? Tophas. No; but love hath, as it were, milked 1000 my thoughts and drained from my heart the very substance of my accustomed courage; it worketh ¹ Noun adjective. Here, and in the line as to an inter- jection, Lyly is playing on definitions given in William Lilly's Grammar. "A Noun Substantive is that which standeth by him- self, and requireth not another word to be joyned with him, to declare his signification." 'A Noun Adjective is that which cannot stand by him- self, in reason or signification, but requireth to be joyned with another word. "An Interjection is a part of speech which betokeneth a sudden passion of the mind, under an imperfect will, and there are so many significations of Interjections, as there are motions of a troubled mind."-pp. 6, 106, Lilie's Latin Grammar, translated by R. R. London, 1641. * SCENE III.] 45 ENDYMION. in my head like new wine, so as I must hoop my sconce with iron, lest my head break, and so I 1005 bewray' my brains: but I pray thee first dis- ΙΟΙΟ cover' me in all parts, that I may be like a lover, and then will I sigh and die. Take my gun and give me a gown: Cedant arma togæ. Epi. Here. Tophas. Take my sword and shield and give me beard-brush and scissors-Bella gerant alii, tu Pari semper ama.* Epi. Will you be trimmed, sir? Tophas. Not yet; for I feel a contention 1015 within me whether I shall frame the bodkin beard or the bush. But take my pike and give - me pen,--Dicere quæ puduit, scribere jussit amor.® Epi. I will furnish you, sir. Tophas. Now, for my bow and bolts give me 1020 ink and paper, for my simitar a pen-knife; for Scalpellum, calami, atramentum, charta, libelli, Sint semper studiis arma parata meis. 1 Bewray. Reveal, disclose unintentionally, expose. 2 Discover. Used in its old sense of uncover, undress. Cicero, De Officiis, 1, 22 (77). 3 Cedant arma. ♦ Bella gerant.—The line seems to have been suggested by Ovid's Her. xiii., 84: Bella gerant alii! Protesilaus amet! The bodkin beard or the bush. The bodkin beard was cut sharp, stiletto-fashion, dagger-like." When revived recently as a fashion, it was called the Elizabethan, beard, Sir Tophas is undecided whether to have his beard cut to a point or to leave it bushy, another fashion of his time. • Dicere quæ. Ovid, Her. iv., 10. 46 [ACT IN ENDYMION. 100% Epi. Sir, will you give over wars and play with that bauble called love? Tophas. Give over wars? No, Epi, Militat 1025 omnis amans, et habet sua castra Cupido.¹ Epi. Love hath made you very eloquent, but your face is nothing fair. Tophas. Non formosus erat, sed erat facundus Ulysses." Epi. Nay, I must seek a new master if you can speak nothing but verses. 1030 Tophas. Quicquid conabar dicere, versus erat." Epi, I feel all Ovid De Arte Amandi lie as heavy at my heart as a load of logs. Oh, what a fine, 1035 thin hair hath Dipsas! What a pretty low fore- head! What a tall and stately nose! What little hollow eyes! What great and goodly lips! How harmless she is, being toothless,-her fin- gers fat and short, adorned with long nails like a 1040 bittern! In how sweet a proportion her cheeks hang down to her breasts like dugs and her paps to her waist like bags! What a low stature she is, and yet what a great foot she carrieth! How thrifty must she be in whom there is no waist! 1045 How virtuous is she like to be, over whom no man can be jealous! 1 Militat omnis. Ovid, Amor., i. 9. I. ? Non formosus. Ovid, Ars Amatoria, book 2, line 123. 8 Quicquid conabar.. Ovid, Tristia, iv., 10. 26. In the Tristia the line reads Quicquid tentabam dicere, versus erat. In Sidney's Defence of Poesie it is given just as it stands here. See Cook's ed., p. 47. SCENE III.] 47 ENDYMION. Epi. Stay, master, you forget yourself. Tophas. O Epi, even as a dish melteth by the button 人 ​1050 fire, so doth my wit increase by love. Epi Pithily, and to the purpose! But what, begin you to nod? Tophas. Good Epi, let me take a nap; for as some man may better steal a horse than another 1055 look over the hedge, so divers shall be sleepy when they would fainest take rest. [He sleeps! Epi. Who ever saw such a woodcock!! Love Dipsas! Without doubt all the world will now account him valiant, that ventureth on her whom 1060 none durst undertake. But here cometh two 1065 wags. Enter DARES and SAMIAS. Sam. Thy master hath slept his share. Dar. I think he doth it because he would not pay me my board-wages. Sam. It is a thing most strange and I think mine will never return, so that we must both seek new masters, for we shall never live by our manners. Epi. If you want masters, join with me and 1070 serve Sir Tophas, who must needs keep more men, because he is toward marriage. Sam. What, Epi, where's thy master? 075 Epi. Yonder, sleeping in love. Dar. Is it possible? Epi. He hath taken his thoughts a hole lower," Simpleton. 1 Woodcock. Hole lower. Like the slang, "Come off his high horse." 48 [ACT III. ENDYMION. and saith, seeing it is the fashion of the world, he will vail bonnet' to beauty. Sam. How is he attired? Epi. Lovely." Dar. Whom loveth this amorous knight? Epi. Dipsas. Sam. That ugly creature? Why, she is a fool, a scold, fat, without fashion, and quite without. favor.s 1080 Epi. Tush, you be simple; my master hath a 1085 good marriage. Dar. Good! As how? Epi. Why, in marrying Dipsas he shall have every day twelve dishes of meat to his dinner, though there be none but Dipsas with him: four 1090 of flesh, four of fish, four of fruit. Sam. As how, Epi? Epi. For flesh these: woodcock, goose, bittern, and rail.* Dar. Indeed, he shall not miss, if Dipsas be 1095 there. Epi. For fish these crab, carp, lump, and pouting. Sam. Excellent, for of my word she is both crabbish, lumpish, and carping. 1 Vail bonnet. To take off one's bonnet or cap. 2 Lovely. Like a lover. 3 Without fashion and quite without favor. "Fashion relates to shape, and favor to the features."- Dilke. 4 Rail. In this description, Epi puns half on the meaning, half on the sound of his words. 1100 SCENE III.] 49 ENDYMION. : Epi. For fruit these fritters, medlars,' harti- chokes, and lady-longings. Thus you see he shall fare like a king, though he be but a beg- gar. 1105 Dar. Well, Epi, dine thou with him, for I had rather fast than see her face. But see, thy master is asleep; let us have a song to wake this amorous knight. IIIO Epi. Agreed. Sam. Content. THE FIRST SONG,2 Epi. Here snores Tophas, That amorous ass, Who loves Dipsas, With face so sweet, 1115 Nose and chin meet. II20 All three.}{ At sight of her each Fury skips And flings into her lap their whips. Dar. Holla, holla in his ear. Sam. The witch, sure, thrust her fingers there. Epi. Cramp him, or wring the fool by th' nose ; Dar. Or clap some burning flax to his toes. Sam. What music's best To wake him? 3 Epi. Bow-wow, let bandogs shake him! " 1 Medlar. crab-apple. It resembles but with a broad disk at the remains of the calyx lobes. harsh and uneatable, but in the early stages of decay it ac- quires an acid flavor much relished by some."-Cent. Dict. 8 First song. This appeared first in Blount's edition. Bandogs. Large, fierce dogs such as were kept to bait bears. See Topsell's Hist. of Four-Footed Beasts The fruit of a small tree related to the a small brown-skinned apple, summit, surrounded by the When first gathered, it is 50 [ACT 111. END YMION. Dar. Let adders hiss in's ear; Sam. Else earwigs wriggle there. Epi. No, let him batten'; when his tongue Once goes, a cat is not worse strung. All three. { But if he ope nor mouth nor eyes, He may in time sleep himself wise. 1135 Top. Sleep is a binding of the senses, love a 1130 loosing. Epi. Let us hear him awhile. Top. There appeared in my sleep a goodly owl, who, sitting upon my shoulder, cried "Twit, twit"; and before mine eyes presented herself 1135 the express image of Dipsas. I marvelled' what the owl said, till at the last I perceived,— "Twit, twit," "To it, to it,"-only, by contraction admonished by this vision to make account of my sweet Venus. Sam. Sir Tophas, you have overslept your- self. 1140 Top. No, youth, I have but slept over my love. Dar. Love? Why, it is impossible that into so noble and unconquered a courage love should 1145 creep, having first a head as hard to pierce as steel, then to pass to a heart armed with a shirt of mail. 1 Batten. To grow fat. 2 I marvelled. This sentence is difficult to punctuate. In the Blount edition it reads: "I marvelled what the owl said, till at the last, I perceived twit, twit, to it, to it: only by contraction admonished by this vision to make account of my sweet Venus." SCENE IV.] 51 ENDYMION. Epi. Ay, but my master yawning one day in 1150 the sun, Love crept into his mouth before he could close it, and there kept such a tumbling in his body that he was glad to untruss' the points. of his heart and entertain Love as a stranger. Top. If there remain any pity in you, plead 1155 for me to Dipsas. Dar. Plead! Nay, we will press her to it. [Aside to SAMIAS.] Let us go with him to Dipsas, and there shall we have good sport. But, Sir Tophas, when shall we go? For I find my 1160 tongue voluble, and my heart venturous, and all myself like myself. Sam. [Aside to DARES.] Come, Dares, let us not lose him until we find our masters, for as long as he liveth, we shall lack neither mirth 1165 nor meat. 1170 Epi. We will traverse. Will you go, sir? Top. I præ, sequar. [Exeunt the Pages, followed by Sir Tophas. SCENE IV. Enter EUMENIDES and GERON. Eum. Father, your sad music being tuned on the same key that my hard fortune is, hath so • Untruss the points. The points were the strings or ribbons, tipped with metal tags, by which the hose was fastened to the doublet. To untruss was to untie, unlace. ? Traverse. "Travice" in Blount and later editions, 8 Sequar. Terence, Andria, I., 1, 171, 52 [ACT III. ENDYMION. melted my mind that I wish to hang at your mouth's end till life end. Ger. These tunes, gentleman, have I been accustomed with these fifty winters, having no other house to shroud myself but the broad 1175 heavens; and so familiar with me hath use made misery that I esteem sorrow my chiefest solace, and welcomest is that guest to me that can re- hearse the saddest tale or the bloodiest tragedy. Eum. A strange humor. Might I inquire the 1180 cause? Ger. You must pardon me if I deny to tell it, for knowing that the revealing of griefs is, as it were, a renewing of sorrow, I have vowed there- fore to conceal them, that I might not only feel 1185 the depth of everlasting discontentment, but despair of remedy. But whence are you? What fortune hath thrust you to this distress? Eum. I am going to Thessaly, to seek remedy for Endymion, my dearest friend, who hath been 1190 cast into a dead sleep almost these twenty years, waxing old and ready for the grave, being almost but newly come forth of the cradle. Ger. You need not for recure travel far, for whoso can clearly see the bottom of this foun- 1195 tain shall have remedy for anything. Eum. That methinketh is impossible. Why, what virtue can there be in water? Ger. Yes, whosoever can shed the tears of a faithful lover shall obtain anything he would. 1200 Read these words engraven about the brim. SCENE IV.] 53 ENDYMION. 1205 Eum. Have you known this by experience, or is it placed here of purpose to delude men? Ger. I only would have experience of it, and then should there be an end of my misery; and then would I tell the strangest discourse that ever yet was heard. Eum. Ah, Eumenides! Ger. What lack you, gentleman; are you not 1210 Well? Eum. Yes, father, but a qualm that often cometh over my heart doth now take hold of me. But did never any lovers come hither? Ger. Lusters, but not lovers; for often have I 1215 seen them weep, but never could I hear they saw the bottom. 1220 1225 Eum. Came there women also? Ger. Some. Eum. What did they see? Ger. They all wept, that the fountain over- flowed with tears, but so thick became the water with their tears that I could scarce discern the brim, much less behold the bottom. Eum. Be faithful lovers so scant? Ger. It seemeth so, for yet heard I never of any. Eum. Ah, Eumenides, how art thou perplexed! Call to mind the beauty of thy sweet mistress and the depth of thy never-dying affections: 1230 how oft hast thou honored her, not only with- out spot, but suspicion of falsehood! And how hardly hath she rewarded thee without cause or 54 [ACT III. ENDYMION. color of despite. How secret hast thou been these seven years, that hast not, nor once darest not to name her, for discontenting her. How 1235 faithful, that hath offered to die for her, to please her! Unhappy Eumenides! Ger. Why, gentleman, did you once love? Eum. Once? Ay, father, and ever shall. Ger. Was she unkind and you faithful? Eum. She of all women the most froward, and I of all creatures the most fond. Ger. You doted then, not loved, for affection is grounded on virtue, and virtue is never peev- ish; or on beauty, and beauty loveth to be praised. Eum. Ay, but if all virtuous ladies should yield to all that be loving, or all amiable gentle- women entertain all that be amorous, their vir- tues would be accounted vices, and beauties de- formities; for that love can be but between two, and that not proceeding of him that is most faithful but most fortunate. Ger. I would you were so faithful that your tears might make you fortunate. Eum. Yea, father, if that my tears clear not this fountain, then may you swear it is but a mere mockery. Ger. So saith every one yet that wept. 1240 1245 1250 1255 Eum. Ah, I faint, I die! Ah, sweet Semele, 126 let me alone, and dissolve,' by weeping, into water. ¹ And dissolve. And let me dissolve, 1 SCENE IV.] 55 ENDYMION. Ger. This affection seemeth strange: if he see nothing, without doubt this dissembling 1265 passeth, for nothing shall draw me from the belief. 1270 1275 Eum. Father, I plainly see the bottom, and there in white marble engraven these words: Ask one for all, and but one thing at all.- Ger. O fortunate Eumenides, (for so have I heard thee call thyself,) let me see. I cannot discern any such thing. I think thou dreamest. Eum. Ah, father, thou art not a faithful lover, and therefore canst not behold it. Ger. Then ask, that I may be satisfied by the event, and thyself blessed. Eum. Ask? So I will. And what shall I do but ask, and whom should I ask but Semèle, the possessing of whose person is a pleasure that 1280 cannot come within the compass of comparison; whose golden locks seem most curious when they seem most careless; whose sweet looks seem most alluring when they are most chaste; and whose words the more virtuous they are, the more am- 1285 orous they be accounted? I pray thee, Fortune, when I shall first meet with fair Semele, dash my delight with some light disgrace, lest em- bracing sweetness beyond measure, I take a surfeit without recure: let her practise her 1290 accustomed coyness that I may diet myself upon my desires; otherwise the fulness of my joys will diminish the sweetness, and I shall perish by them before I possess them. Why do G 56 [ACT III. ENDYMION. T า I trifle the time in words? The least minute being spent in the getting of Semele is more 1295 worth than the whole world; therefore let me ask. What now, Eumenides! Whither art thou drawn? Hast thou forgotten both friendship and duty, care of Endymion, and the command- ment of Cynthia? Shall he die in a leaden 1300 sleep because thou sleepest in a golden dream? Ay, let him sleep ever, so I slumber but one minute with Semele. Love knoweth neither friendship nor kindred. Shall I not hazard the loss of a friend for the obtaining of her for 1305 whom I would often lose myself? Fond' Eumen- ides, shall the enticing beauty of a most disdain- ful lady be of more force than the rare fidelity of a tried friend? The love of men to women is a thing common and of course; the friendship 1310 of man to man infinite and immortal. Tush! Semele doth possess my love. Ay, but Endy- mion hath deserved it. I will help Endymion. I found Endymion unspotted in his truth. Ay, but I shall find Semele constant in her love. will have Semele. What shall I do? thy gray hairs are embassadors of experience. Which shall I ask? I 1315 Father, Ger. Eumenides, release Endymion, for all things, friendship excepted, are subject to 1320 fortune love is but an eye-worm, which only tickleth the head with hopes and wishes; friend- 1 Fond. Foolish. SCENE IV.] 57 ENDYMION. ship the image of eternity, in which there is nothing movable, nothing mischievous. As 1325 much difference as there is between beauty and virtue, bodies and shadows, colors and life, so great odds is there between love and friendship. Love is a chameleon, which draweth nothing into the mouth but air, and nourisheth nothing in 1330 the body but lungs: believe me, Eumenides, desire dies in the same moment that beauty sickens, and beauty fadeth in the same instant that it flourisheth. When adversities flow, then love ebbs; but friendship standeth stiffly in 1335 Storms. Time draweth wrinkles in a fair face, but addeth fresh colors to a fast friend, which neither heat, nor cold, nor misery, nor place, nor destiny, can alter or diminish. O friendship, of all things the most rare, and therefore most 1340 rare because most excellent, whose comforts in misery is always sweet, and whose counsels in prosperity are ever fortunate! Vain love, that, only coming near to friendship in name, would seem to be the same or better in nature! 1545 Eum. Father, I allow your reasons, and will therefore conquer mine own. Virtue shall subdue affections, wisdom lust, friendship beau- ty. Mistresses are in every place, and as com- mon as hares on Athos, bees in Hybla, fowls in 1350 the air; but friends to be found are like the phoenix in Arabia,' but one; or the philadel- ¹ Phenix in Arabia. "The phoenix, that famous bird of It is said that there is only one in existence Arabia. • . . 58 [ACT III. END YMION. phi'in Arays, never above two. I will have Endymion. Sacred fountain, in whose bowels are hidden divine secrets, I have increased your waters with the tears of unspotted thoughts, 1355 and therefore let me receive the reward you promise: Endymion, the truest friend to me, and faithfulest lover to Cynthia, is in such a dead sleep that nothing can wake or move him. Ger. Dost thou see anything? Eum. I see in the same pillar these words: When she whose figure of all is the perfectest, Xand never to be measured; always one, yet never 1360 the same; still inconstant, yet never wavering ; shall come and kiss Endymion in his sleep, he shall 1365 then rise, else never. This is strange. Ger. What see you else? Eum. There cometh over mine eyes either a dark mist, or upon the fountain a deep thick- ness, for I can perceive nothing. But how am 1370 I deluded, or what difficult, nay impossible, thing is this? in the whole world, and that that has not been seen very often." Pliny, Nat. Hist., book x, ch. 2. ¹ Philadelphi in Arays. Of these puzzling words Pro- fessor H. T. Peck of Columbia College suggests the following explanation: "Philadelphus is the old name for the mock-orange (philadelphus hirsutus), and I be- lieve Arays to be Lyly's form of the Spanish Aranjuez (in Roman times Ara Iovis). Aranjuez has been famous for centuries because of its beautiful flower-gardens, first laid out in Lyly's time by Philip II. The flowers of the philadelphus, as a rule, grow only in pairs, but botanists mention them as having been (rarely) found in a cluster." SCENE IV.] 59 ENDYMION. 1375 1380 1385 Ger. Methinketh it easy. Eum. Good father, and how? Ger. Is not a circle of all figures the perfect- est? Eum. Yes. Ger. And is not Cynthia of all circles the most absolute ? Eum. Yes. Ger. Is it not impossible to measure her, who still worketh by her influence, never standing at one stay? Eum. Yes. Ger. Is she not always Cynthia, yet seldom in the same bigness; always wavering in her waxing or waning, that our bodies might the better be governed, our seasons the dailier give their increase; yet never to be removed from her 1390 course, as long as the heavens continue theirs? Eum. Yes. Ger. Then who can it be but Cynthia, whose virtues being all divine must needs bring things to pass that be miraculous? Go, humble thyself 1395 to Cynthia; tell her the success, of which myself shall be a witness. And this assure thyself, that she that sent to find means for his safety will now work her cunning. Eum. How fortunate am I, if Cynthia be she 1400 that may do it! Ger. How fond art thou, if thou do not believe it! Eum. I will hasten thither that I may entreat 60 [ACT IV. END YMION. on my knees for succor, and embrace in mine arms my friend. Ger. I will go with thee, for unto Cynthia must I discover all my sorrows, who also must work in me a contentment. Eum. May I now know the cause? 1405 Ger. That shall be as we walk, and I doubt 1410 not but the strangeness of my tale will take away the tediousness of our journey. Eum. Let us go. Ger. I follow. [Exeunt EUMENIDES and GERON. ACT THE FOURTH. SCENE I. Is Enter TELLÚS. 7 Tellus. I marvel Corsites giveth me so much 1415 liberty, all the world knowing his charge to be so high and his nature to be most strange,- who hath so ill treated ladies of great honor that he hath not suffered them to look out of windows, much less to walk abroad. It may 1420 be he is in love with me, for (Endymion, hard- hearted Endymion excepted) what is he that is not enamored of my beauty? But what respectest thou the love of all the world? En- dymion hates thee. Alas, poor Endymion, my 1425 malice hath exceeded my love, and thy faith to Cynthia quenched my affections. Quenched, SCENE 1.] 61 ENDYMİON. 1430 Tellus? Nay, kindled them afresh; insomuch that I find scorching flames for dead embers, and cruel encounters of war in my thoughts instead of sweet parleys. Ah, that I might once again see Endymion! Accursed girl, what hope hast thou to see Endymion, on whose head already are grown gray hairs, and whose life 1435 must yield to nature, before Cynthia end her displeasure. Wicked Dipsas, and more devilish Tellus, the one for cunning too exquisite, the other for hate too intolerable! Thou wast com- manded to weave the stories and poetries wherein 1440 were showed both examples and punishments of tattling tongues, and thou hast only embroi- dered the sweet face of Endymion, devices of love, melancholy imaginations, and what-not, out of thy work, that thou shouldst study to pick 1445 Out of thy mind. But here cometh Corsites. I must seem yielding and stout; full of mildness, yet tempered with a majesty; for if I be too flexible, I shall give him more hope than I mean; if too froward, enjoy less liberty than 1450 I would. Love him I cannot, and therefore will practise that which is most contrary to our sex, to dissemble. 1455 Enter CORSITES. Cor. Fair Tellus, I perceive you rise with the lark, and to yourself sing with the nightingale. Tellus. My lord, I have no playfellow but fancy; being barred of all company, I must 62 [ACT IV. ENDYMION. question with myself, and make my thoughts my friends. Cor. I would you would account my thoughts also your friends, for they be such as are only 1460 busied in wondering at your beauty and wis- dom; and some such as have esteemed your fortune too hard; and divers of that kind that offer to set you free, if you will set them free. Tellus. There are no colors so contrary as 1465 white and black, nor elements so disagreeing as fire and water, nor anything so opposite as men's thoughts and their words. Cor. He that gave Cassandra the gift of prophesying, with the curse that, spake she 1470 never so true, she should never be believed, hath I think poisoned the fortune of men, that utter- ing the extremities of their inward passions are always suspected of outward perjuries. Tellus. Well, Corsites, I will flatter myself and 1475 believe you. What would you do to enjoy my love? Cor. Set all the ladies of the castle free, and make you the pleasure of my life: more I can- not do, less I will not. Tellus. These be great words, and fit for your calling; for captains must promise things im- possible. But will you do one thing for all? Cor. Anything, sweet Tellus, that am ready for all. Tellus. You know that on the lunary bank sleepeth Endymion. 1480 1483 SCENE I.] 63 ENDYMION. Cor. I know it. Tellus. If you will remove him from that 1490 place by force, and convey him into some ob- 1495 1500 scure cave by policy, I give you here the faith of an unspotted virgin that you only shall pos- sess me as a lover, and in spite of malice have me for a wife. Cor. Remove him, Tellus! Yes, Tellus, he shall be removed, and that so soon as 'thou shalt as much commend my diligence as my force. I go. Tellus. Stay, will yourself attempt it? Cor. Ay, Tellus, as I would have none partaker of my sweet love, so shall none be partners of my labors. But I pray thee go at your best leisure, for Cynthia beginneth to rise, and if she dis- cover our love, we both perish, for nothing 1505 pleaseth her but the fairness of virginity. All things must be not only without lust but without suspicion of lightness. 1510 Tellus. I will depart, and go you to En- dymion. Cor. I fly, Tellus, being of all men the most fortunate. [Exit CORSITES. Tellus. Simple Corsites, I have set thee about a task, being but a man, the gods themselves cannot perform, for little dost thou know how 1515 heavy his head lies, how hard his fortune; but such shifts must women have to deceive men, and under color of things easy, entreat that After so and such, as sometimes meant that. 1 As. 64 [ACT IV. END YMION. which is impossible; otherwise we should be cumbered with importunities, oaths, sighs, let- ters, and all implements of love, which to one 1520 resolved to the contrary are most loathsome. I will in, and laugh with the other ladies at Cor- sites's sweating. [Exit TELLUS. SCENE II. Enter SAMIAS and DARES. Sam. Will thy master never awake? Dar. No; I think he sleeps for a wager: but 1525 how shall we spend the time? Sir Tophas is so far in love that he pineth in his bed and cometh not abroad. Sam. But here cometh Epi in a pelting chafe.' Enter EPITON. Epi. A pox of all false proverbs, and were a proverb a page, I would have him by the ears! Sam. Why art thou angry? Epi. Why? You know it is said, "The tide tarrieth no man." Sam. True. Epi. A monstrous lie; for I was tied two hours, and tarried for one to unloose me. Dar. Alas, poor Epi! Epi. Poor! No, no, you base, conceited 1530 1535 slaves, I am a most complete gentleman, al- 1540 though I be in disgrace with Sir Tophas. Dar. Art thou out with him? 1 Pelting chafe. Irritable humor. SCENE II.] 65 ENDYMION. Epi. Ay, because I cannot get him a lodging with Endymion. He would fain take a nap for 1545 forty or fifty years. 1550 1555 Dar. A short sleep, considering our long life. Sam. Is he still in love? Epi. In love? Why he doth nothing but make sonnets. Sam. Canst thou remember any one of his poems ? Epi. Ay, this is one :- The beggar, Love, that knows not where to lodge, At last within my heart, when I slept, He crept, I waked, and so my fancies began to fodge.¹ Sam. That's a very long verse. Epi. Why, the other was short: the first is called from the thumb to the little finger; the 1560 second from the little finger to the elbow; and some he made to reach to the crown of his head, and down again to the sole of his foot. It is set to the tune of the black saunce²; ratio est, because Dipsas is a black saint. 1565 Dar. Very wisely: but pray thee, Epi, how art thou complete; and being from thy master, what occupation wilt thou take? 3 Epi. Know, my hearts, I am an absolute Micro- cosmus, a petty world of myself: my library is ¹ Fodge. Move. 2 Black saunce. The same as Black Santis or Black Sanctus, a hymn to Saint Satan, ridiculing the luxury of the monks. 3 Know. Blount and the later editors read "No." 66 [ACT IV. END YMION. my head, for I have no other books but my 1570 brains; my wardrobe on my back, for I have no more apparel than is on my body; my armory at my fingers' end, for I use no other artillery than my nails; my treasure in my purse. omnia mea mecum porto.' Dar. Good! Sic Epi. Know, sirs, my palace is paved with grass, and tiled with stars, for Cœlo tegitur qui non habet urnam,³—he that hath no house must lie in the yard. Sam. A brave resolution! But how wilt thou spend thy time? Epi. Not in any melancholy sort; for mine ex- ercise I will walk horses, Dares. Dar. Too bad! Epi. Why, is it not said: "It is good walking when one hath his horse in his hand"? Sam. Worse and worse! But how wilt thou live? 1575 1580 1585 Epi. By angling. Oh, 'tis a stately occupation 1590 to stand four hours in a cold morning, and to have his nose bitten with frost before his bait be mumbled with a fish. Dar. A rare attempt! But wilt thou never travel? ¹ Sic omnia. Cicero, Paradoxa Stoicorum, 1. i. Omnia mecum porto mea. Ascribed to Bias by Cicero. Compare Phædrus, Fab. iv. 21. 2 Know. Blount and the later editors read "Now." 3 Cælo tegitur. Lucan, vii. 819. T595 SCENE II.] 67 END YMION. Epi. Yes, in a western barge,' when with a good wind and lusty pugs,' one may go ten miles in two days. Sam. Thou art excellent at thy choice. But 1600 what pastime wilt thou use? None? 1605 Epi. Yes, the quickest of all. Sam. What, dice? Epi. No, when I am in haste, one-and-twenty games at chess, to pass a few minutes. Dar. A life for a little lord, and full of quick- ness. Epi. Tush, let me alone! But I must needs see if I can find where Endymion lieth, and then go to a certain fountain hard by, where they say 1610 faithful lovers shall have all things they will ask. If I can find out any of these, Ego et magister meus erimus in tuto, I and my master shall be friends. He is resolved to weep some three or four pailfuls to avoid the rheum of love that 1615 wambleth" in his stomach. ¹ Western barge. Apparently the Thames barges were noted for slowness. Thos. Nash says: "Indeede, to say the truth, my stile is somewhat heavie-gaited, and can- not daunce, trip, and goe so lively. . . nor hath my prose any skill to imitate the Almond leape verse. Onely I can keepe pace with Gravesend barge.”—Epistle preceding Astrophel and Stella, 1591. “Almond (Almain Sant Trois pas, et Allemand) leape," a kind of dance: un sant."-Colgr. • 2 Lusty pugs. Pug was occasionally a familiar term of good fellowship or intimacy. 3 Wambleth. Rumbleth. 68 [ACT IV. END YMION. Enter Master Constable and Two Watchmen. Sam. Shall we never see thy master, Dares? Dar. Yes; let us go now, for to-morrow Cyn- thia will be there. Epi. I will go with you ;-but how shall we see for the Watch? Sam. Tush, let me alone! I'll begin to them. Masters, God speed you. I Watch. Sir boy, we are all sped already. Epi. [Aside.] So methinks, for they smell all of drink, like a beggar's beard. Dar. But I pray, sirs, may we see Endymion? 2 Watch. No, we are commanded in Cynthia's name, that no man shall see him. Sam. No man! Why, we are but böys. 1620 1625 1 Watch. Mass, neighbors, he says true, for if 1630 I swear I will never drink my liquor by the quart, and yet call for two pints, I think with a safe conscience I may carouse both. Dar. Pithily, and to the purpose. 2 Watch. Tush, tush, neighbors, take me with 1635 you.' Sam. [Aside.] This will grow hot. Dar. [Aside.] Let them alone. 2 Watch. If I say to my wife, Wife, I will have no raisins in my pudding, she puts in cur- 1640 rants; small raisins are raisins, and boys are men: even as my wife should have put no raisins in 1 Take me with you. Let me understand you, satisfy my mind, SCENE II.] 69 END YMION. 1645 1650 1655 1660 my pudding, so shall there no boys see Endy- mion. Dar. Learnedly. Epi. Let Master Constable speak; I think he is the wisest among you. Master Constable. You know, neighbors, 'tis an old said saw, "Children and fools speak true." All. True. Mast. Const. Well, there you see the men be the fools, because it is provided from the chil- dren. Dar. Good. Mast. Const. Then, say I, neighbors, that chil- dren must not see Endymion, because children´ and fools speak true. Epi. O wicked application! Sam. Scurvily brought about! 1 Watch. Nay, he says true, and therefore till Cynthia have been here, he shall not be uncov- ered. Therefore, away! Dar. A watch, quoth you! A man may watch seven years for a wise word, and yet go without 1665 it. Their wits are all as rusty as their bills.' But come on, Master Constable, shall we have a song before we go? Mast. Const. With all my heart. 1 Bills. "A weapon much resembling a halbert. On one side was a cutting blade turned like the common bill. There was a spike at the top and on the other side. Bills were sometimes used by the navy, and a large part of the foot-soldiers of Elizabeth's time, from using this weapon, 70 [ACT IV. ENDYMION. THE SECOND Song.¹ The Two Watchmen. Stand! Who goes there? 1670 We charge you appear 'Fore our constable here, In the name of the Man in the Moon. To us billmen relate Why you stagger so late, 1675 And how you come drunk so soon. Pages. What are ye, scabs ? 2 Watch. The Watch: This the Constable. Pages. A patch.³ 1680 Const. Knock 'em down unless they all stand: If any run away, 'Tis the old watchman's play, To reach him a bill of his hand. Pages. O gentlemen, hold, 1685 Your gowns freeze with cold, And your rotten teeth dance in your head; Epi. Wine, nothing shall cost ye; Sam. Nor huge fires to roast ye; Dares. Then soberly let us be led. 1690 Const. Come, my brown bills, we'll roar, Bounce loud at tavern door, Omnes. And i' th' morning steal all to bed. [Exeunt all. were called billmen. They were used also by sheriff's officers attending executions, and watchmen.”—Dilke. ¹ Second Song. Omitted in first edition, 1591; first- printed in Blount's edition of 1632. 2 Scabs. Low, vulgar fellows. 3 A patch. "A fool. The term originated in the pro- per name of Wolsey's famous fool, which was Patch.". Fair holt. 4 Brown bills. Bills were often browned, japanned, to keep them from rust; and were sometimes black with varnish. SCENE III.] 71 ENDYMION. X CORSITES Solus. SCENE III. ENDYMION lies asleep on the lunary bank. Corsites. I am come in sight of the lunary bank. 1695 Without doubt Tellus doteth upon me, and cun- ningly, that I might not perceive her love, she hath set me to a task that is done before it is begun. Endymion, you must change your pillow, and if you be not weary of sleep, I will carry you 1700 where at ease you shall sleep your fill. It were good that without more ceremonies I took him, leşt being espied, I be entrapt, and so incur the displeasure of Cynthia, who commonly setteth. watch that Endymion have no wrong. He tries 1705 to lift Endymion.] What now, is your master- ship so heavy, or are you nailed to the ground? Not stir one whit! Then use all thy force, though he feel it and wake! What, stone-still? Turned, I think, to earth with lying so long on the earth. Didst thou not, Corsites, before Cyn- thia, pull up a tree that forty years was fastened with roots and wreathed in knots to the ground? Didst not thou, with main force, pull open the iron gates which no ram or engine could move? 1715 Have my weak thoughts made brawn-fallen' my strong arms, or is it the nature of love, or the quintessence of the mind, to breed numbness or litherness, or I know not what languishing in my joints and sinews, being but the base strings 1710 2 ¹Made brawn-fallen. Unnerved. 2 Litherness. tus's Dict. A lack of spirit to do anything.—Bare- 72 [ACT IV. END YMION. 1720 of my body? Or doth the remembrance of Tellus so refine my spirits into a matter so subtle and divine that the other fleshy parts cannot work whilst they muse? Rest thyself, rest thy- self; nay, rend thyself in pieces, Corsites, and strive, in spite of love, fortune, and nature, to lift 1725 up this dulled body, heavier than dead and more senseless than death. Enter Fairies. But what are these so fair fiends that cause my hairs to stand upright and spirits to fall down? Hags, out!-alas, nymphs, I crave pardon. Ay 1730 me, but what do I hear ! [The Fairies dance, and with a song pinch him, and he falleth asleep. They kiss Endymion and depart. THE THIRD SONG BY FAIRIES. Omnes. Pinch him, pinch him, black and blue, Saucy mortals must not view What the Queen of Stars is doing, Nor pry into our fairy wooing. 1 Fairy. Pinch him blue, 2 Fairy. And pinch him black ; 3 Fairy. Let him not lack 1735 Sharp nails to pinch him blue and red, 1740 Till sleep has rocked his addle head. 4 Fairy. For the trespass he hath done, Spots o'er all his flesh shall run. Kiss Endymion, kiss his eyes, Then to our midnight heidegyes.2 1 Third Song. First printed by Blount. Heidegyes. A country dance or round. Originally, perhaps, heyday guise.-See Cent. Dict. 1745 [SCENE III. 73 ENDYMION. May Enter, at the side of the stage opposite Corsites, CYNTHIA, FLOSCULA, SEMELE, PANELION, ZONTES, PYTHAGORAS, and GYPTES. SITES sleeps still. COR- Cynth. You see, Pythagoras, what ridiculous opinions you hold, and I doubt not but you are now of another mind. Pythag. Madam, I plainly perceive that the perfection of your brightness hath pierced through the thickness that covered my mind; insomuch that I am no less glad to be reformed than ashamed to remember my grossness. Gyptes. They are thrice fortunate that live in 1755 your palace, where truth is not in colors but life, virtues not in imagination but execution. Cynth. I have always studied to have rather living virtues than painted gods, the body of truth than the tomb. But let us walk to En- 160 dymion; it may be it lieth in your arts to deliver him; as for Eumenides, I fear he is dead. 1765 1 Pythag. I have alleged all the natural reasons I can for such a long sleep. Gyptes. I can do nothing till I see him. Cynth. Come, Floscula; I am sure you are glad that you shall behold Endymion. 1 Walk to Endymion. The dialogue from "I fear he is dead" to "behold Endymion" was given as the charac- ters walked slowly across the stage towards Endymion and Corsites, 74 [ACT IV. ENDYMION. Flosc. I were blessed, if I might have him re- covered. 4 Cynth. Are you in love with his person? Flosc. No, but with his virtue. Cynth. What say you, Semele? Sem. Madam, I dare say nothing for fear I offend. Cynth. Belike you cannot speak except you be spiteful; but as good be silent as saucy. Pane- lion, what punishment were fit for Semele, in whose speech and thoughts is only contempt and sourness? 1770 1775 Panel. I love not, madam, to give any judg- 1780 ment; yet, sith Your Highness commandeth, I think to commit her tongue close prisoner to her mouth, Cynth. Agreed. Semele, if thou speak this twelvemonth, thou shalt forfeit thy tongue. 1785 Behold Endymion! Alas, poor gentleman, hast thou spent thy youth in sleep, that once vowed all to my service! Hollow eyes, gray hairs, wrinkled cheeks, and decayed limbs ! Is it des- tiny or deceit that hath brought this to pass? 1790 If the first, who could prevent thy wretched stars? If the latter, I would I might know thy cruel enemy. I favored thee, Endymion, for thy honor, thy virtues, thy affections; but, to bring thy thoughts within the compass of thy 1795 fortunes, I have seemed strange that I might have thee staid, and now are thy days ended SCENE III.] 75 ENDYMION. 1800 before my favor begin. But whom have we here? Is it not Corsites? Zon. It is, but more like a leopard' than a man. Cynth. Awake him. [Zontes awakens Corsites. How now, Corsites, what make you here? How came you deformed? Look on thy hands, and 1805 then thou seest the picture of thy face. Cors. Miserable wretch, and accursed! How am I deluded! Madam, I ask pardon for my offence, and you see my fortune deserveth pity. Cynth. Speak on; thy offence cannot deserve 1810 greater punishment: but see thou rehearse the truth, else shalt thou not find me as thou wish- est me. Cors. Madam, as it is no offence to be in love, being a man mortal, so I hope can it be no 1815 shame to tell with whom, my lady being heaven- ly. Your Majesty committed to my charge the fair Tellus, whose beauty in the same moment took my heart captive that I undertook to carry her body prisoner. Since that time have I found 1820 such combats in my thoughts between love and duty, reverence and affection, that I could neither endure the conflict, nor hope for the conquest. Cynth. In love? A thing far unfitting the 1825 name of a captain, and (as I thought) the tough and unsmoothed nature of Corsites. But forth! ¹ Like a leopard. "Spots o'er all his flesh shall run.” Fairies' Song. 76 [ACT IV. ENDYMİON. Cors. Feeling this continual war, I thought rather by parley to yield than by certain danger to perish. I unfolded to Tellus the depth of my affections, and framed my tongue to utter a sweet 1830 tale of love, that was wont to sound nothing but threats of war. She, too fair to be true and too false for one so fair, after a nice denial, practised a notable deceit, commanding me to remove Endymion from this cabin, and carry him to 1835 some dark cave; which I, seeking to accom- plish, found impossible; and so by fairies or fiends have been thus handled. You Cynth. How say you, my lords, is not Tellus always practising of some deceits? In sooth, 1840 Corsites, thy face is now too foul for a lover, and thine heart too fond for a soldier. may see when warriors become wantons how their manners alter with their faces. Is it not a shame, Corsites, that having lived so long in 1845 Mars's camp, thou shouldst now be rocked in Venus's cradle? Dost thou wear Cupid's quiver at thy girdle and make lances of looks? Well, Corsites, rouse thyself and be as thou hast been; and let Tellus, who is made all of love, melt her- 1850 self in her own looseness. Cors. Madam, I doubt not but to recover my former state, for Tellus's beauty never wrought such love in my mind as now her deceit hath despite; and yet to be revenged of a woman 1855 were a thing than love itself more womanish. Gyptes. These spots, gentleman, are to be SCENE III.] 77 END YMION. worn out, if you rub them over with this lunary; so that in the place where you received this 1860 maim you shall find a medicine. Cors. I thank you for that. The gods bless me from love and these pretty ladies' that haunt this green. 1865 ble face. 1870 1875 1880 Flosc. Corsites, I would Tellus saw your amia- [SEMELE laughs. Zont. How spitefully Semele laugheth, that dare not speak. Cynthia. Could you not stir Endymion with that doubled strength of yours? Cors. Not so much as his finger with all my force. Cynth. Pythagoras and Gyptes, what think you of Endymion? What reason is to be given, what remedy? Pyth. Madam, it is impossible to yield reason for things that happen not in compass of nature. It is most certain that some strange enchant- ment hath bound all his senses. Cynth. What say you, Gyptes ? Gyptes. With Pythagoras, that it is enchant- ment, and that so strange that no art can undo it, for that heaviness argueth a malice unremov- able in the enchantress, and that no power can end it, till she die that did it, or the heavens 1885 show some means more miraculous. Flosc. O Endymion, could spite itself devise a mischief so monstrous as to make thee dead 1 Ladies. The fairies. 78 [ACT V. END YMION. with life, and living, being altogether dead? Where others number their years, their hours, their minutes, and step to age by stairs, thou only 1890 hast thy years and times in a cluster, being old before thou rememberest thou wast young. Cynth. No more, Floscula; pity doth him no good: I would anything else might; and I vow by the unspotted honor of a lady he should not 1895 miss it. But is this all, Gyptes, that is to be done? Gyptes. All as yet. It may be that either the enchantress shall die or else be discovered; if either happen, I will then practise the utmost 1900 of my art. In the mean season, about this grove would I have a watch, and the first living thing that toucheth Endymion to be taken. Cynth. Corsites, what say you, will you under- take this? 1 Cors. Good madam, pardon me! I was over- taken too late. I should rather break into the midst of a main battle than again fall into the hands of those fair babies.2 1905 Cynth. Well, I will provide others. Pythago- 1910 ras and Gyptes, you shall yet remain in my court, till I hear what may be done in this matter. Pyth. We attend. Cynth. Let us go in. 1 Overtaken. 2 Fair babies. Overcome. [Exeunt all. 1915 'The fairies. Popularly they were be- lieved to be very diminutive."-Fairholt. SCENE I.] 79 ENDYMION. 1920 ACT THE FIFTH. SCENE I. Enter SAMIAS and DARES. Samias. Eumenides hath told such strange tales as I may well wonder at them, but never believe them. Dar. The other old man, what a sad speech used he, that caused us almost all to weep. Cynthia is so desirous to know the experiment of her own virtue, and so willing to ease En- dymion's hard fortune, that she no sooner heard the discourse but she made herself in a readiness 1925 to try the event. Sam. We will also see the event. But whist, here cometh Cynthia with all her train. Let us sneak in amongst them. Enter CYNTHIA, FLOSCULA, SEMELE, EUMENides, PANELION,' ZONTES, PYTHAGORAS, and GYPTES. Cynth. Eumenides, it cannot sink into my 1930 head that I should be signified by that sacred fountain, for many things are there in the world to which those words may be applied. Eum. Good madam, vouchsafe but to try; ¹ Panelion. Here the texts of Fairholt, Dilke, and Blount read " Panelion, etc." The editor has supplied the new names from the list of those attending Cynthia at her last entrance. 80 [ACT V. END YMION. else shall I think myself most unhappy that I asked not my sweet mistress.' Cynth. Will you not yet tell me her name ? Eum. Pardon me, good madam, for if Endy- mion awake, he shall; myself have sworn never to reveal it. 1935 Cynth. Well, let us to Endymion. I will not 1940 be so stately, good Endymion, not to stoop to do thee good, and if thý liberty consist in a kiss from me, thou shalt have it; and although my mouth hath been heretofore as untouched as my thoughts, yet now to recover thy life, though 1945 to restore thy youth it be impossible, I will do that to Endymion which yet never mortal man could boast of heretofore, nor shall ever hope for hereafter. [She kisseth him. ง no i Eum. Madam, he beginneth to știr. Cynth. Soft, Eumenides; stand still. Eum. Ah, I see his eyes almost open. Cynth. I command thee once again, stir not: I will stand behind him. 1950 Pan. What do I see,-Endymion almost 1955 awake? Eum. Endymion, Endymion, art thou deaf or dumb, or hath this long sleep taken away thy memory? Ah, my sweet Endymion, seest thou not Eumenides, thy faithful friend, thy faithful 1960 Eumenides, who for thy safety hath been care- ¹ Asked not my sweet mistress. Asked not for my sweet mistress, Semele, as the one request allowed from the fountain. SCENE I.] 81 ENDYMION. less of his own content? Speak, Endymion,- Endymion, Endymion ! End. Endymion? I call to mind such a 1965 name. Eum. Hast thou forgotten thyself, Endymion? Then do I not marvel thou rememberest not thy friend. I tell thee thou art Endymion and I Eumenides. Behold also Cynthia, by whose 1970 favor thou art awaked, and by whose virtue thou shalt continue thy natural course. Cynth. Endymion, speak, sweet Endymion! Knowest thou not Cynthia? End. O heavens, whom do I behold? Fair 1975 Cynthia, divine Cynthia? Cynth. I am Cynthia, and thou Endymion. End. "Endymion"! What do I hear? What, a gray beard, hollow eyes, withered body, de- cayed limbs, and all in one night? 1980 Eum. One night! Thou hast here slept forty years,' by what enchantress as yet it is not known, and behold, the twig to which thou laidest thy head is now become a tree. Callest thou not Eumenides to remembrance? 1 Forty years. If these words are taken literally, there is evidently a slip here on Lyly's part. In Act III., Sc. 4, Eumenides says that Endymion has been in a deep sleep "almost these twenty years," and since that scene little time seems to have elapsed. Moreover, these years seem to have brought changes to Endymion only: all the other characters remain unchanged. Twenty and forty were, however, often used by the old dramatists simply for an indefinite number. 82 [ACT V. ENDYMION. End. Thy name I do remember by the sound, 1985 but thy favor' I do not yet call to mind; only divine Cynthia, to whom time, fortune, destiny, and death are subject, I see and remember, and in all humility I regard and reverence. Cynth. You have good cause to remember 1990 Eumenides, who hath for thy safety forsaken his own solace. 2 End. Am I that Endymion who was wont in court to lead my life, and in justs, tourneys, and arms, to exercise my youth? Am I that Endy- 1995 mion? Eum. Thou art that Endymion, and I Eu- menides: wilt thou not yet call me to remem- brance? End. Ah, sweet Eumenides, I now perceive 2000 thou art he, and that myself have the name of Endymion; but that this should be my body I doubt, for how could my curled locks be turned to gray hairs and my strong body to a dying weakness, having waxed old, and not knowing 2005 it. Cynth. Well, Endymion, arise. [Endymion, trying to rise, sinks back.] Awhile sit down, for that thy limbs are stiff and not able to stay thee, 1 Favor. Features, face. Justs, tourneys. "The tournament was a conflict with many knights, divided into parties, and engaged at the same time; the 'just' was a separate trial of skill, where only one man was opposed to another."-Stru's Sports and Pastimes. 3 Stay. Support. SCENE I.] 83 ENDYMION. 2010 and tell what hast thou seen in thy sleep all this while, what dreams, visions, thoughts, and for- tunes; for it is impossible but in so long time thou shouldst see things strange. End. Fair Cynthia, I will rehearse what I have 2015 seen, humbly desiring that when I exceed in length, you give me warning, that I may end; for to utter all I have to speak would be trouble- some, although haply the strangeness may some- what abate the tediousness. 2020 Cynth. Well, Endymion, begin. End. Methought I saw a lady passing fair, but very mischievous, who in the one hand carried a knife with which she offered to cut my throat, and in the other a looking-glass, wherein seeing 2025 how ill anger became ladies, she refrained from intended violence. She was accompanied with other damsels, one of which, with a stern coun- tenance, and as it were with a settled malice en- graven in her eyes, provoked her to execute mischief; another, with visage sad, and constant only in sorrow, with her arms crossed, and watery eyes, seemed to lament my fortune, but durst not offer to prevent the force. I started in my sleep, feeling my very veins to swell and my sinews to stretch with fear, and such a cold sweat bedewed all my body that death itself could not be so terrible as the vision. 2030 2035 2040 Cynth. A strange sight: Gyptes, at our better leisure, shall expound it. End. After long debating with herself, mercy dun 84 [ACT V. ENDYMION. overcame anger, and there appeared in her heavenly face such a divine majesty mingled with a sweet mildness that I was ravished with the sight above measure, and wished that I might have enjoyed the sight without end; and 2045 so she departed with the other ladies, of which the one retained still an unmovable cruelty, the other a constant pity. Cynth. Poor Endymion, how wast thou af- frighted! What else? 2050 End. After her, immediately appeared an aged man with a beard as white as snow, carrying in his hand a book with three leaves, and speaking, as I remember, these words: Endymion, receive this book with three leaves, in which are contained 2055 counsels, policies, and pictures, and with that he offered me the book, which I rejected; where- with, moved with a disdainful pity, he rent the first leaf in a thousand shivers. The second time he offered it, which I refused also; at which, bend- 2060 ing his brows, and pitching his eyes fast to the ground, as though they were fixed to the earth, and not again to be removed, then suddenly casting them up to the heavens, he tore in a rage the second leaf, and offered the book only 2065 with one leaf. I know not whether fear to offend or desire to know some strange thing moved me,--I took the book, and so the old man vanished. Cynth. What didst thou imagine was in the last 2070 leaf? SCENE 1.] 85 ENDYMION. 2075 End. There portrayed to life, with a cold quaking in every joint, I beheld many wolves. barking at thee, Cynthia, who having ground their teeth to bite, did with striving bleed them- selves to death. There might I see Ingratitude with an hundred eyes gazing for benefits, and with a thousand teeth gnawing on the bowels wherein she was bred; Treachery stood all 2080 clothed in white, with a smiling countenance, but both her hands bathed in blood; Envy with a pale and meagre face (whose body was so lean that one might tell all her bones, and whose garment was so tattered that it was easy to num- 2085 ber every thread) stood shooting at stars, whose darts fell down again on her own face. There might I behold drones or beetles-I know not how to term them-creeping under the wings of a princely eagle, who, being carried into her 2090 nest, sought there to suck that vein that would have killed the eagle. I mused that things so base should attempt a fact so barbarous, or durst imagine a thing so bloody,-and many other things, madam, the repetition whereof may at 2095 your better leisure seem more pleasing, for bees surfeit sometimes with honey, and the gods are glutted with harmony, and Your Highness may be dulled with delight. Cynth. I am content to be dieted; therefore, 2100 let us in. Eumenides, see that Endymion be well tended, lest either eating immoderately or sleeping again too long, he fall into a deadly sur- 86 [ACT V. ENDYMION. feit or into his former sleep. See this also be pro- claimed: that whosoever will discover this prac- tice shall have of Cynthia infinite-thanks and 2105 1 no small rewards. [Exeunt all except ENDYMION, Eumenides, FLOSCULA and Semele. Flosc. Ah, Endymion, none so joyful as Flos- cula of thy restoring. Eum. Yes, Floscula, let Eumenides be some- what gladder, and do not that wrong to the set- 2110 tled friendship of a man as to compare it with the light affection of a woman. Ah, my dear friend Endymion, suffer me to die with gazing at thee. End. Eumenides, thy friendship is immortal 2115 and not to be conceived; and thy good will, Floscula, better than I have deserved; but let us all wait on Cynthia. I marvel Semele speak- eth not a word. Eum. Because if she do, she loseth her tongue. End. But how prospereth your love? Eum. I never yet spake word since your sleep. End. I doubt not but your affection is old and your appetite cold. Eum. No, Endymion, thine hath made it 2125 stronger, and now are my sparks grown to flames and my fancies almost to frenzies: but let us follow, and within we will debate all this matter at large. [Exeunt all. ¹ Discover this practice. Expose the plot, i.e. the author of the enchantment of Endymion, SCENE II.] 87 END YMION. 2130 SCENE II. Enter Sir TOPHAS and EPITON. Top. Epi, Love hath justled my liberty from the wall,' and taken the upper hand of my reason. Epi. Let me then trip up the heels of your affection and thrust your good will into the 2135 gutter. 2 Top. No, Epi, Love is a lord of misrule and keepeth Christmas in-my corps. Epi. No doubt there is good cheer: what dishes of delight doth his lordship feast you 2140 with withal? Top. First, with a great platter of plum por- ridge of pleasure, wherein is stewed the mutton of mistrust. Many 1 From the wall. In Queen Elizabeth's time, when two men met in the street, the inferior in rank was supposed to let his superior pass between him and the wall. squabbles arose over this point in every-day etiquette, and references to the custom and to contests arising from it are constant in the Elizabethan drama. "To take the wall of" came to be a phrase for getting the better of a man, and it often connoted some force. Here Sir Tophas's "liberty is justled from the wall" and Epiton talks of "tripping heels." 2 Lord of misrule. The Lord or Abbot of Misrule, or the Master of Merry Disports, was a person, generally an inferior, chosen at the universities, the inns of court, the noblemen's houses, and even at court, to preside over and sometimes to provide the Christmas entertainment. The Lord of Misrule, during his term of office, was in absolute control, Expl . decus 88 ENDYMION. Epi. Excellent love-pap.' 1 [ACT V. Top. Then cometh a pie of patience, a hen 2145 of honey, a goose of gall, a capon of care, and many other viands, some sweet and some sour, which proveth love to be, as was said of it' in old years, Dulce venenum. 2 Epi. A brave banquet! Top. But, Epi, I pray thee feel on my chin; something pricketh me. What dost thou feel or see? Epi. There are three or four little hairs. 2150 Top. I pray thee call it my beard. How 2155 shall I be troubled when this young spring ³ shall grow to a great wood! 4 Epi. Oh, sir, your chin is but a quiller yet; you will be most majestical when it is full- fledged. But I marvel that you love Dipsas, 2160 that old crone. Top. Agnosco veteris vestigia flammæ ;' I love the smoke of an old fire. Epi. Why she is so cold that no fire can thaw her thoughts. 1 "love ¹ Love-pap. Fairholt, Dilke, and Blount print lap," reproducing what was evidently a printer's error,— repeating the / from “love.' 2 As was said of it. As it was said of in Blount, Dilke, and Fairholt. 3 Spring. A grove of trees. But in this time quills 4 Quiller. An unfledged bird. began to bud again in the bird, which made him look as though he would fly up."-Act iv., Sc. 3, Sapho and Phao. 5 Agnosco, etc. Virgil. Eneid, book iv., 1. 23. 2165 Cu SCENE 11.] 89 ENDYMION. Top. It is an old goose, Epi, that will eat no oats; old kine will kick, old rats gnaw cheese, and old sacks will have much patching: I prefer an old coney' before a rabbit-sucker, 2170 and an ancient hen before a young chicken- peeper. Epi. [Aside.] Argumentum ab antiquitate; my master loveth antique work. Top. Give me a pippin that is withered like 2175 an old wife! Epi. Good, sir. Top. Then, a contrario sequitur argumentum, -give me a wife that looks like an old pippin. Epi. [Aside.] Nothing hath made my master 2180 a fool but flat scholarship. 2185 Top. Knowest thou not that old wine is best? Epi. Yes. Top. And thou knowest that like will to like? Epi. Ay. Top. And thou knowest that Venus loved the best wine? Epi. So. Top. Then I conclude that Venus was an old woman in an old cup of wine, for est Venus?. 2190 in vinis, ignis in igne fuit. 3 Epi. O lepidum caput, O madcap master! You 1 Coney. A rabbit; rabbit-sucker, a sucking rabbit; chicken-peeper, a chick just out of the shell. 2 Est Venus. Ovid, Ars Amat., i., 244; with et for est. 3 O lepidum. Compare Plautus, Most., ii., 3, 12. Simple 90 [ACT V. ENDYMION. were worthy to win Dipsas, were she as old again, for in your love you have worn the nap of your wit quite off and made it threadbare. But soft, who comes here? Top. My solicitors. Enter SAMIAS and DARES. Sam. All hail, Sir Tophas; how feel you yourself? Top. Stately in every joint, which the common people term stiffness. Doth Dipsas stoop? Will she yield? Will she bend? Dar. Oh, sir, as much as you would wish,' for her chin almost toucheth her knees. Epi. Master, she is bent, I warrant you. Top. What conditions doth she ask? Sam. She hath vowed she will never love any that hath not a tooth in his head less than she. Top. How many hath she? Dar. One. 2195 2200 2205 Epi. That goeth_hard, master, for then yol 2210 must have none. Top. A small request, and agreeable to the gravity of her years. What should a wise man do with his mouth full of bones like a charnel- house? The turtle' true hath ne'er a tooth. Sam. [Aside]. Thy master is in a notable vein, that will lose his teeth to be like a turtle. I Wish. Is the rest of the sentence an aside? 'Turtle. Turtle-dove. 2215 SCENE II.] 91 ENDYMION. 2220 2225 Epi. [Aside.] Let him lose his tongue, too; I care not. Dar. Nay, you must also have no nails, for she long since hath cast hers. Top. That I yield to. What a quiet life shall Dipsas and I lead when we can neither bite nor scratch! You may see, youths, how age pro- vides for peace. Sam. [Aside.] How shall we do to make him leave his love, for we never spake to her? Dar. [Aside.] Let me alone. [To Sir TOPHAS.] She is a notable witch, and hath turned her 2230 maid Bagoa to an aspen tree, for bewraying her secrets. Top. I honor her for her cunning, for now when I am weary of walking on two legs, what a pleasure may she do me to turn me to some 2235 goodly ass, and help me to four. 2240 Dar. Nay, then I must tell you the truth: her husband, Geron, is come home, who this fifty years hath had her to wife. Top. What do I hear? Hath she an husband? Go to the sexton and tell him desire is dead, and will him to dig his grave. O heavens, an husband! What death is agreeable' to my for- tune? Sam. Be not desperate, and we will help you 2245 to find a young lady. › Agreeable to my fortune. Agrees with, befits my for- tune. 92 [ACT V. ENDYMION. ་ 2 3 Top. I love no grissels'; they are so brittle they will crack like glass, or so dainty that if they be touched they are straight of the fashion of wax; animus majoribus instat, I desire old matrons. What a sight would it be to embrace 2250 one whose hair were as orient as the pearl, whose teeth shall be so pure a watchet that they shall stain the truest turquoise, whose nose shall throw more beams from it than the fiery carbuncle, whose eyes shall be environed about 2255 with redness exceeding the deepest coral, and whose lips might compare with silver for the paleness! Such a one if you can help me to, I will by piecemeal curtal' my affections towards Dipsas, and walk my swelling thoughts till they 2260 be cold. Epi. Wisely provided. How say you, my friends, will you angle for my master's cause? Sam. Most willingly. Б Dar. If we speed him not shortly, I will burn 2265 my cap. We will serve him of the spades, and dig an old wife out of the grave that shall be answerable to his gravity. ? 1 Grissels. Primarily, from Patient Grissel; then, weak women; here young women, girls. 2 Animus. 3 Watchet. Ovid, Ars Amat., ii., 535. Pale blue. 4 Curtal. Lyly plays upon curtal, a bob-tailed horse, and curtail. 5 Speed him not. Bring him not to success, prosper him not. SCENE III.] 93 ENDYMION. Top. Youths, adieu; he that bringeth me first. 2270 news, shall possess mine inheritance.... 2275 [Exit Sir TOPHAS. Dar. What, is thy master landed ? Epi. Know you not that my master is liber tenens ? Sam. What's that? Epi. A freeholder. But I will after him. [Exit EPITON. Sam. And we to hear what news of Endym- ion for the conclusion. [Exeunt, at the opposite side, SAMIAS and DARES. SCENE III. Enter PANELION and ZONTÉS. hands Pan. Who would have thought that Tellus, being so fair by nature, so honorable by birth, 2280 SO wise by education, would have entered into a mischief to the gods so odious, to men so de- testable, and to her friend so malicious. Zon. If Bagoa had not bewrayed it, how then should it have come to light? But we see that 2285 gold and fair words are of force to corrupt the strongest men, and therefore able to work silly women like wax. 2290 Pan. I marvel what Cynthia will determine in this cause. Zon. I fear as in all causes-hear of it in jus- tice, and then judge of it in mercy; for how can it be that she that is unwilling to punish her 94 [ACT V. ENDYMION. deadliest foes with disgrace, will revenge in- juries of her train with death. Pan. That old witch, Dipsas, in a rage, hav- 2295 ing understood her practice to be discovered, turned poor Bagoa to an aspen tree. But let us make haste and bring Tellus before Cynthia, for she was coming out after us. Zon. Let us go. [Exeunt, on one side, PANELION and ZONTES; enter, at the other side, CYNTHIA, SEMELE, FLOSCULA, DIPSAS, ENDYMION, EUMEN- IDES, GERON, PYTHAGORAS, GYPTES, and Sir TOPHAS. 2300 Cynth. Dipsas, thy years are not so many as thy vices, yet more in number than commonly nature doth afford or justice should permit. Hast thou almost these fifty years practised that detested wickedness of witchcraft? Wast thou, 2305 so simple as for to know the nature of simples, of all creatures to be most sinful? Thou hast threatened to turn my course awry and alter by thy damnable art the government that I now possess by the eternal gods, but know thou, 2310 Dipsas, and let all the enchanters know, that Cynthia, being placed for light on earth, is also protected by the powers of heaven. Breathe out thou mayest words; gather thou mayest herbs; find out thou mayest stones agreeable to 2315 thine art; yet of no force' to appal my heart, ¹ Yet of no force. Yet all will be of no force. SCENE III.] 95 ENDYMIÓN. in which courage is so rooted, and constant per- suasion of the mercy of the gods so grounded, that all thy witchcraft I esteem as weak as the 2320 world doth thy case wretched. This noble gent tleman, Geron,—once thy husband but now thy mortal hate, didst thou procure to live in a des- ert, almost desperate; Endymion, the flower of my court and the hope of succeeding time, hast 2325 thou bewitched by art, before thou wouldst suf- fer him to flourish by nature. Dipsas. Madam, things past may be repented, not recalled: there is nothing so wicked that I have not done, nor anything so wished for as 2330 death; yet among all the things that I commit- ted, there is nothing so much tormenteth my rented and ransacked thoughts as that in the prime of my husband's youth I divorced him by my devilish art; for which if to die might be 2335 amends, I would not live till to-morrow; if to live and still be more miserable would better content him, I would wish of all creatures to be oldest and ugliest. Geron. Dipsas, thou hast made this difference 2340 between me and Endymion, that being both. young, thou hast caused me to wake in melan- choly, losing the joys of my youth, and him to sleep, not remembering youth. Cynth. Stay, here cometh Tellus; we shall 2345 now know all. 96 [ACT V. ENDYMION. Re-enter PANELION and ZONTES, with CORSITES and TELLus. Cors. I would to Cynthia thou couldst make as good an excuse in truth as to me thou hast done by wit. Tellus. Truth shall be mine answer, and there- fore I will not study for an excuse. 2 3. 2350 Cynth. Is it possible, Tellus, that so few years should harbor so many mischiefs? Thy swell- ing pride have I borne, because it is a thing that beauty maketh blameless, which the more it ex- ceedeth fairness in measure, the more it stretch- 2355 eth itself in disdain. Thy devices against Cor- sites I smile at, for that wits, the sharper they are, the shrewder' they are; but this unacquaint- ed' and most unnatural practice with a vile- enchantress against so noble a gentleman as 2360- Endymion I abhor as a thing most malicious, and will revenge as a deed most monstrous. And as for you, Dipsas, I will send you into the desert amongst wild beasts, and try whether you can cast lions, tigers, boars, and bears into as 2365 dead a sleep as you did Endymion, or turn them to trees, as you have done Bagoa. But tell me, Tellus, what was the cause of this cruel part,* far unfitting thy sex, in which nothing should be but 1 Shrewder. More knavish, mischievous. 2 Unacquainted. Unheard of. 3 Practice. Plot. 4 Part. Act, conduct. SCENE III.] 97 ENDYMION. 2370 simpleness, and much disagreeing from thy face, in which nothing seemed to be but softness. Tellus. Divine Cynthia, by whom I receive my life and am content to end it, I can neither excuse my fault without lying, nor confess it 2375 without shame; yet were it possible that in so 2380 heavenly thoughts as yours there could fall such earthly motions as mine, I would then hope, if not to be pardoned without extreme punishment, yet to be heard without great marvel. Cynth. Say on, Tellus; I cannot imagine any thing that can color such a cruelty. Tellus. Endymion, that Endymion, in the prime of his youth, so ravished my heart with love, that to obtain my desires I could not find 2385 means, nor to recite them reason. What was she that favored not Endymion, being young, wise, honorable, and virtuous; besides, what metal was she made of (be she mortal) that is not affected with the spice, nay infected with 2390 the poison of that not-to-be-expressed yet always-to-be-felt love, which breaketh the brains and never bruiseth the brow, consumeth the heart and never toucheth the skin, and maketh a deep scar to be seen before any wound at all be felt. My heart, too tender to withstand such a divine fury, yielded to love. Madam, I, not without blushing, confess I yielded' to love. 2395 Cynth. A strange effect of love, to work such I yielded. Blount, Dilke, Fairholt read: "I, not without blushing, confess, yielded." 殺 ​98 [ACT V. ENDYMION. Tellu an extreme hate. All this was for love. How say you, Endymion? End. I say, madam, then the gods send me a woman's hate. Cynth. That were as bad, for then by contrary you should never sleep. But on, Tellus; let us hear the end. 1 2400 2405 Tellus. Feeling a continual burning in all my bowels and a bursting almost in every vein, I could not smother the inward fire, but it must needs be perceived by the outward smoke; and by the flying abroad of divers sparks, divers 2410 judged of my scalding flames. Endymion, as full of art as wit, marking mine eyes, (in which he might see almost his own,) my sighs, (by which he might ever hear his name sounded,) aimed at my heart, in which he was assured his 2415 person was imprinted, and by questions wrung out that which was ready to burst out. When he saw the depth of my affections, he swore that mine in respect of his were as fumes to Ætna, valleys to Alps, ants to eagles, and nothing 2420 could be compared to my beauty but his love and eternity. Thus drawing a smooth shoe upon a crooked foot, he made me believe that (which all of our sex willingly acknowledge) I was beautiful, and to wonder (which indeed is a 2425 thing miraculous) that any of his sex should be faithful. Cynth. Endymion, how will you clear your- self? SCENE III.] 99 END YMION. ! 2430 End. Madam, by mine own accuser. Cynth. Well, Tellus, proceed; but briefly, lest taking delight in uttering thy love, thou offend us with the length of it. Tellus. I will, madam, quickly make an end of 2435 my love and my tale. Finding continual in- crease of my tormenting thoughts, and that the enjoying of my love made deeper wounds than the entering into it, I could find no means to ease my grief but to follow Endymion, and con- 2440 tinually to have him in the object of mine eyes who had me slave and subject to his love; but in the moment that I feared his falsehood and fried myself most in mine affections, I found- ah, grief, even then I lost myself!-I found him 2445 in most melancholy and desperate terms cursing his stars, his state, the earth, the heavens, the world, and all for the love of 2450 Cynth. Of whom? Tellus, speak boldly. Tellus. Madam, I dare not utter, for fear to offend. Cynth. Speak, I say; who dare take offence, if thou be commanded by Cynthia? Tellus. For the love of Cynthia. Cynth. For my love, Tellus? That were 2455 strange. Endymion, is it true? 2460 End. In all things, madam, Tellus doth not speak false. Cynth. What will this breed to in the end? Well, Endymion, we shall hear all. Tellus. I, seeing my hopes turned to mishaps, 100 [ACT V. ENDYMION. ..... and a settled dissembling towards me, and an immovable desire to Cynthia, forgetting both myself and my sex, fell into this unnatural hate; for knowing your virtues, Cynthia, to be immor- tal, I could not have an imagination' to withdraw 2465 him; and finding mine own affections unquench- able, I could not carry the mind' that any else should possess what I had pursued; for though. in majesty, beauty, virtue, and dignity, I always humbled and yielded myself to Cynthia, yet in 2470 affections I esteemed myself equal with the god- desses, and all other creatures, according to their states, with myself;³ for stars to their bigness have their lights, and the sun hath no more, and little pitchers, when they can hold no more, are 2475 as full as great vessels that run over. Thus, madam, in all truth, have I uttered the unhappi- ness of my love and the cause of my hate, vield- ing wholly to that divine judgment why hver 'Could not have an imagination. Could not in vine, fancy, that I could withdraw him. Carry the mind. Bear to think. 3 With myself. The meaning seems to be: In dignity I was unequal to Cynthia and the gods, in feelings (affec- tions) I was their equal; and, as I was equal to my superiors, the gods, in this respect, so all lower creatures—my inferiors in dignity-were according to their capacities, (states, conditions,) equal to me in feel- ings. 4 To. According to. 、. SCENE III.] ΙΟΙ END YMION. 2480 erred for want of wisdom or envied for too much partiality. Cynth. How say you, my lords, to this matter? But what say you, Endymion; hath Tellus told truth? tiv 2485 End. Madam, in all things but in that she said I loved her and swore to honor her. Cynth. Was there such a time whenas for my love thou didst vow thyself to death, and in re- spect of it loathed thy life? Speak, Endymion; 2490 I will not revenge it with hate. End. The time was, madam, and is, and ever shall be, that I honored Your Highness above all the world, but to stretch it so far as to call it love I never durst. There hath none pleased 2495 mine eye but Cynthia, none delighted mine ears but Cynthia, none possessed my heart but Cyn- thia I have forsaken all other fortunes to fol- low Cy thia, and here I stand ready to die, if it please Cynthia. Such a difference hath the 2500 gods set between our states that all must be 2505 dr loyalty, and reverence; nothing (without Your Highness vouchsafe it') be termed love. My unspotted thoughts, my languishing body, my discontented life, let them obtain by princely favor that which to challenge they must not presume, only wishing of impossibilities; with imagination of which I will spend my spirits, and to myself, that no creature may hear, softly 1 Vouchsafe it. Blount, Dilke, and Fairholt read: "Without it vouchsafe your highness." е VE 102 [ACT V. ENDYMION. call it love, and if any urge to utter what I whisper, then will I name it honor. From this 2510 sweet contemplation if I be not driven, I shall live of all men the most content, taking more pleasure in mine aged thoughts than ever I did in my youthful actions. Cynth. Endymion, this honorable respect of 2515 thine shall be christened love in thee, and my reward for it, favor. Persevere, Endymion, in loving me, and I account more strength in a true heart than in a walled city. I have la- bored to win all, and study to keep such as I 2520 have won; but those that neither my favor can move to continue constant, nor my offered ben- efits get to be faithful, the gods shall either reduce to truth, or revenge their treacheries with justice. Endymion, continue as thou hast 2525 begun and thou shalt find that Cynthia shineth not on thee in vain. End. Your Highness hath blessed me, and your words have again restored my youth; me- thinks I feel my joints strong and these mouldy 2530 hairs to moult, and all by your virtue, Cynthia, into whose hands the balance that weigheth time and fortune are committed. Cynth. What, young again! Then it is pity to punish Tellus. Tellus. Ah, Endymion, now I know thee and ask pardon of thee; suffer me still to wish thee well. 2535 SCENE III.] 103 ENDYMION. 2540 2545 €550 : End. Tellus, Cynthia must command what she will. Flosc. Endymion, I rejoice to see thee in thy former estate. End. Good Floscula, to thee also am I in my former affections. Eum. Endymion, the comfort of my life, how am I ravished with a joy matchless, saving only the enjoying of my mistress. Cynth. Endymion, you must now tell who Eu-, menides shrineth for his saint. End. Semele, madam. Cynth. Semele, Eumenides? Is it Semele, the very wasp of all women, whose tongue stingeth as much as an adder's tooth? Eum. It is Semele, Cynthia, the possessing of 2555 whose love must only prolong my life. см Cynth. Nay, sith Endymion is restored, we will have all parties pleased. Semele, are you content after so long trial of his faith, such rare secrecy, such unspotted love, to take Eumenides? 2560 Why speak you not? Not a word? 2565 End. Silence, madam, consents; that is most true. Cynth. It is true, Endymion. Eumenides, take Semele; take her, I say. Eum. Humble thanks, madam; now only do I begin to live. Sem. A hard choice, madam, either to be mar- ried if I say nothing, or to lose my tongue if I speak a word. Yet do I rather choose to have -L 104 [ACT V. END YMION. my tongue cut out than my heart distempered : 2570 I will not have him. 1 Cynth. Speaks the parrot! She shall nod hereafter with signs. Cut off her tongue, nay her head, that having a servant of honorable birth, honest manners, and true love, will not be 2575 persuaded. Sem. He is no faithful lover, madam, for then would he have asked his mistress.' 3 Ger. Had he not been faithful, he had never seen into the fountain, and so lost his friend and 2580 mistress. Eum. Thine own thoughts, sweet Semele, wit- ness against thy words, for what hast thou found in my life but love? And as yet what have I found in my love but bitterness? Madam, par- 2585 don Semele, and let my tongue ransom hers. Cynth. Thy tongue, Eumenides! What, shouldst thou live wanting a tongue to blaze the beauty of Semele! Well, Semele, I will not command love, for it cannot be enforced; let 2590 me entreat it. Sem. I am content Your Highness shall com- mand, for now only do I think Eumenides faith- 1 Speaks the parrot. A conventional uncomplimentary taunt applied to a person's remarks. "Speke Parrot" is used by Skelton as the title to his bitter attack on Car- dinal Wolsey; probably as a sort of excuse for such a mass of abuse.-Fair holt. 2 Asked his mistress. foot-note, p. 79. Asked for his mistress. See 3 And so lost. And so would have lost. SCENE III.] 105. ENDYMION. ful, that is willing to lose his tongue for my sake; 2595 yet loath, because it should do me better ser- vice. Madam, I accept of Eumenides. Cynth. I thank you, Semele. Eum. Ah, happy Eumenides, that hast a friend so faithful and a mistress so fair! With what 2600 sudden mischief will the gods daunt this excess of joy? Sweet Semele, I live or die as thou wilt. Cynth. What shall become of Tellus? Tellus, you know Endymion is vowed to a service from 2005 which death cannot remove him. Corsites cast- eth still a lovely' look towards you. How say 2610 you, will you have your Corsites, and so receive pardon for all that is past? Tellus. Madam, most willingly. Cynth. But I cannot tell whether Corsites be agreed. Cors. Ay, madam, more happy to enjoy Tellus than the monarchy of the world. Eum. Why, she caused you to be pinched 2615 with fairies. 26 2022 Cors. Ay, but her fairness hath pinched my heart more deeply. Cynth. Well, enjoy thy love. But what have you wrought in the castle, Tellus ? Tellus. Only the picture of Endymion. The Cynth. Then so much of Endymion as his picture cometh to, possess and play withal. 1 ¹ Lovely. Loving. 106 [ACT V. ENDYMION. Cors. Ah, my sweet Tellus, my love shall be as thy beauty is, matchless. Cynth. Now it resteth,' Dipsas, that if thou 2625 wilt forswear that vile art of enchanting, Geron hath promised again to receive thee; otherwise, if thou be wedded to that wickedness, I must and will see it punished to the uttermost. Dipsas. Madam, I renounce both substance 2630 and shadow of that most horrible and hateful trade, vowing to the gods continual penance, and to Your Highness obedience. Cynth. How say you, Geron; will you admit her to your wife? Ger. Ay, with more joy than I did the first day, for nothing could happen to make me happy but only her forsaking that lewd and de- testable course. Dipsas, I embrace thee. 2 2635 Dipsas. And I thee, Geron, to whom I will 2640 hereafter recite the cause of these my first follies. / Cynth. Well, Endymion, nothing resteth now but that we depart : thou hast my favor; Tellus her friend; Eumenides in Paradise with his Semele; Geron content with Dipsas. Sir Top. Nay, soft; I cannot handsomely go to bed without Bagoa. 2645 Cynth. Well, Sir Tophas, it may be there are more virtues in me than myself knoweth of, for I awaked Endymion, and at my words he waxed 2650 1 It resteth. 2 Lewd. It remains. Mean, base. SCENE III.] 107 ENDYMION. XI young; I will try whether I can turn this tree¹ again to thy true love. Top. Turn her to a true love or false, so she be a wench I care not. Cynth. Bagoa, Cynthia putteth an end to thy 2655 hard fortunes, for, being turned to a tree for re- vealing a truth, I will recover thee again, if in my power be the effect of truth. BAGOA becomes herself again. Top. Bagoa, a bots upon thee ! Cynth. Come, my lords, let us in. You, Gyptes 2660 and Pythagoras, if you cannot content yourselves in our court, to fall from vain follies of philoso- phers to such virtues as are here practised, you shall be entertained according to your deserts, for Cynthia is no stepmother to strangers. Pythag. I had rather in Cynthia's court spend ten years than in Greece one hour. Gyptes. And I choose rather to live by the sight of Cynthia than by the possessing of all Egypt. Cynth. Then follow. Eum. We all attend. [Exeunt all. 1 This tree. How this transformation was arranged for is vague. Apparently there was a tree on the stage in this last scene, for Cynthia says, “turn this tree to thy true love." Evidently, however, the tree was not on the stage when Panelion and Zontes were on early in the scene, for Panelion refers to Bagoa as turned into an as- pen, not into this aspen, as he would have done had the tree been in sight. When the tree was put on, and the details of the transformation, it seems now impossible to determine. 2665 2670 ; 108 [EPILOGUE. ENDYMION. THE EPILOGUE.' A MAN walking abroad, the Wind and Sun strove for sovereignty, the one with his blast, the other with his beams. The Wind blew hard; 'This Epilogue is made from the third of the fables of Avienus, usually printed as Esop's. The fable runs: THE SUN AND THE WIND. "Phebus and Boreas from on high Upon the road a Horseman spy, Wearing a cloak, for fear of rain. Says Boreas, 'His precaution's vain 'Gainst me. I'll show you for a joke How soon I'll make him quit his cloak.' 'Come on,' says Phebus, 'let us see Who best succeeds, or you or me.' The Wind to blow so fierce began, He almost had unhors'd his man; But still the cloak. for all his roar, Was wrapp'd more closely than before. When Boreas what he could had done, Now for my trial,' says the Sun, And with his beams so warm'd the air, The man his mantle could not bear, But open'd first, then threw aside. "Learn hence, unbending sons of pride, Persuasive manners will prevail When menaces and bluster fail." Sir B. BOOTHBY, Fables and Satires. Lyly refers to this fable in Euphues and his England, p. 472, Arber. EPILOGUE.] 109 ENDYMION. ་། the man wrapped his garment about him harder: 2675 it blustered more strongly; he then girt it fast to him. I cannot prevail, said the Wind. The Sun, casting her crystal beams, began to warm the man; he unloosed his gown: yet it shined brighter; he then put it off. I yield, said the 2680 Wind, for if thou continue shining, he will also put off his coat. Dread Sovereign, the malicious that seek to overthrow us with threats, do but stiffen our thoughts, and make them sturdier in storms; but 2685 if Your Highness vouchsafe with your favorable beams to glance upon us, we shall not only stoop, but with all humility lay both our hands and hearts at Your Majesty's feet. Capas English Readings for Students. This collection is planned to supply English master- pieces in editions at once competently edited and inex- bensive. The aim will be to fill vacancies now existing because of subject, treatment, or price. The volumes. will be of convenient size and serviceably bound. Coleridge: Prose Extracts. Selections chosen and edited with introduction and notes by HENRY A. BEERS, Professor in Yale College. About 150 pp. The selections, varying in length from a paragraph to en or twenty pages, will be mainly from Table Talk and Biographia Literaria, but also in part from The Friend, Notes on Shakespere, and other writings. They have been chosen, so far as may be, to illustrate the range and ariety of Coleridge's thought, and, to emphasize this urpose, have been grouped by subjects. The introduc- on briefly summarizes the author's intellectual position. nd influence. le Quincey: Joan of Arc and The English Mail Coach. Edited with an introduction and notes by JAMES MORGAN HART, Professor in Cornell University. xxvi +138 pp. 16m0. Boards. These essays have been chosen as fairly representative the two most notable phases of the author's work, and at the same time attractive to the novice in literary udy. The introduction sketches the leading facts of e Quincey's life, and indicates some of the prominent I 2 English Readings for Students. features of his style. Allusions and other points of un- usual difficulty are explained in the notes. This volume and the one containing the Essays on Boswell's Johnson (see below) are used at Cornell University as foundation for elementary rhetorical study. Dryden Select Plays. Edited with a brief introduction and notes by JAMES W. BRIGHT, Assistant Professor in the Johns Hopkins University. About 100 pp. 12mo. [In preparation.] Aside from their representing the principal literary ac- tivity, in point of quantity, of one of the foremost English writers, Dryden's plays have a peculiar interest in having been among the first to be played upon the reopening of the theatres under Charles II. Goldsmith: Present State of Polite Learning. Edited with introduction and notes by J. M. HART, Professor in Cornell University. About 100 pp. 16mo. [In preparation.] There are many reasons, some of them obvious, for giving this essay a place in the English Readings series One that may be mentioned is the remarkably clea insight it affords into the entire eighteenth-century wa of criticising. The introduction and notes will direc the student's attention along this line of observation. Lyly: Endimion. With introduction and notes by GEORGE P. BAKER, Instructor i Harvard College. Lyly's plays really show him to a better advantage tha does the Euphues, by which he is chiefly remembered and his place in English dramatic history makes it de sirable that one at least should be easily accessible. ? UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN 3 9015 03121 8558