€f|e 25eIlejB?^3lettre0 M^tvit^ SECTION III THE ENGLISH DRAMA FROM ITS BEGINNING TO THE PRESENT DAY GENERAL EDITOR GEORGE PIERCE BAKER PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY TAM HARTl QA/AM MERCVRIO GEORGE GASCOIGNE From the only contemporary portrait ^ in the fir it edition of * The Stele Glas ' {'57(>) The arquebuss with pouches for powder and shot on one side, and the books with pen and ink on the other, illustrate the martial and literary exploits which are also recalled in the motto. SUPPOSES AND JOCASTA TWO PLAYS TRANSLATED FROxM THE ITALIAN, THE FIRST BY GEO. GASCOIGXE, THE SECOND BY GEO. GASCOIGNE AND F. KINWELMERSH EDITED BY JOHN W. CUNLIFFE, D.Lit. (London) ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH AT MCGILL UNIVERSITY MONTREAL, CANADA BOSTON, U.S.A., AND LONDON D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS 1906 COPYRIGHT, 190^, nv T>. C, HFATTI * CO. ALL KIGIITS RESERVED PR George Gascoigne was the son and heir of Sir John Gascoigne, of Cardington, Bedfordshire, but was disinherited on account of youthful excesses. He left Cambridge University without a degree, entered Gray's Inn in 1555, and represented the County of Bedford in Parliament 1557—9- He was notorious for his riotous behaviour,^ spent all he had, and made the acquaintance of the debtors' prison. In the " myddest of his youth," he "determined to abandone all vaine delightes and to returne unto Greyes Inn, there to undertake againe the studdie of the common Lawes." He paid the fines for his neglected terms, and was " called ancient " in 1565. He trans- lated the Supposes and (along with Francis Kinwelmersh) the Jocasta, which were presented at Gray's Inn in 1566. Probably about this time he married the rich widow whose children by her first marriage brought a suit for the protection of their interests in 1568. Gascoigne returned to his evil courses as " a man of middle age," if we are to accept the evidence of his autobiographical poem I Gabriel Harvey, in the second of Foure Letters (1592), has the follow- ing : " I once bemoned the decayed and blasted estate of M. Gascoigne : who wanted not some commendable parts of conceit and endeavour : but unhappy M. Gascoigne, how lordly happy in comparison of most un- happy M. Greene." (Grosart's edition, vol. i, pp. 170-171.) Har\'ey has another reference, of no less interest as indicating his opinion of Gas- coigne's personal character and literary abilities, in Pierces Supererogation (1593): '■'■Had he [Nashe] begun to Aretinize, when Elderton began to ballat, Gascoine to sonnet, Turber\-ille to madrigal, Drant to versify, or Tarleton to extemporise, some parte of his phantasticall bibble-babbles and capricious panges might have bene toUerated in a greene and wild youth : but the winde is chaunged, and there is a busier pageant upon the stage. M. Aschams Toxophilus long sithens shot at a fairer marke : and M. Gascoigne himselfe, after some riper experience, was glad to trye other conclusions in the Lowe Countryes ; and bestowed an honorable commendation upon Sir Humfrye Gilbertes gallant discourse of a discovery for a newe passage to the East Indyes." (Grosart, vol. 11, p. 96.) The whole passage (which may also be consulted in Mr. Gregory Smith's Elixabethan Critical Essays, vol. II, pp. 261-2) is worthy of attention as the record of the distinction made by an acute contemporary critic be- tween the early part of Elizabeth's reign, in which Gascoigne's activity lay, and the later period in which Harvey himself was writing. 95i59SS vi 115iograpl)^ Dan Bartholomeiv of Bathe ^ and in May, 1572, he was preventec from taking his seat in Parliament by a petition alleging : " Firste, he is indebted to a greate nomber of personnes for the which cause he hathe absented him selfe from the Citie and hath lurked at Villages neere unto the same Citie by a longe time, and nowe beinge returned for a Burgesse of Midehurste in the Countie of Sussex doetlie shewe his face openlie in the dispite of all his cred- itors." *' Item he is a defamed person and noted as well for manslaughter as for other greate cryemes. ' ' " Item he is a common Rymer and a deviser of slaunderous Pas- quelles against divers personnes of greate callinge. ' ' "Item he is a notorious Ruffianne and especiallie noted to be bothe a Spie, an Atheist and Godles personne. " The allegations need not be accepted as weU-founded, the main object of the petition being evidently to prevent Gascoigne from ob- taining protection against his creditors. In March, 1573, he sailed for the Low Countries, and soon after an edition of his works was issued, professedly surreptitious, but, as he afterwards admitted, pub- lished with his knowledge and consent. ^ The Ad-ventures of Master F. y. caused scandal by supposed references to persons of high rank, and some of the amorous poesies, written by Gascoigne for himself or others, also gave offence. In Holland a " loving letter " from a lady at the Hague, then in the hands of the Spaniards, involved him in suspicion, but William of Orange accepted his assurances of fidel- I The title-page of this edition bears no date ; the prefatory letter is dated August, 1572, and this is commonly accepted as the year of publi- cation ; but 1573 seems more likely. The question is complicated by the conflicting dates of the prefatory epistles of the edition of 1575 ; that ad- dressed to the revcrende divines is dated the last day of January, 1574, and in it Gascoigne says : " It is very neere two yeares past since (I beeing in Hollande in service with the vertuous Prince of Orange) the most part of the Posies were imprinted." The epistle to al yong Gentlemen^ which immediately follows, is dated January 2nd, 1575, and it seems probable that it was at the beginning of this year that the revised volume was prepared for the press. This would give 157? as the date of the earlier edition, and this view is confirmed by references to events in the Low Countries (the capture of Brill, April 1st, 1572, and the siege of Haarlem, December, 1572 — July 12, 157?) in Gascoigne'' s voyage into Hollande. The date given for this in the heading of the poem is '■'•An. 1572," but it must mean March, I57f . This poem appears to have been sent over by Gas- coigne to his publisher after his arrival in Holland. 115iograpt)^ vii ity and allowed him to go under a safe conduct to recover the portrait of himself he had left in the lady's hands. He suffered ship- wreck, saw a good deal of sen-ice, and was four months a Spanish prisoner, returning home in October, 1574. In 1575 he printed a revised and expurgated edition of his works, and set himself in good earnest to retrieve fame and fortune. He published an extremely- moral play The Glasse of Go-vernment (1575) ; his well known sat- ire The Steele Glasse ^ 2l prefatory epistle to Sir Humphrey Gilbert's Discourse of a Disco'verie for a neiv Passage to Cataia ; The Droome of Doomes Daye (in part a translation of Innocent Ill's De Contemptu iVIui'.di si-ve ae Miseria Humanae Conditionis) ; and A Delicate Diet for Daintie Mouthde Droonkardes (all in 15 76). In 1575 he was employed by Leicester to compose a Masque of Zabeta and other elaborate compliments to the Queen on the occasion of her famous visit to KenUworth. At Woodstock he ''pronounced the Tale of Hemetes the Heremyte'''' to Her Majest>' and the following January presented versions of it in French, Latin, and Italian to her as a New Year's gift, with a request for employment. The request was evidently granted, for his next New Year's gift, The Grief of Joy e, is offered as witness " how the interims and vacant hours of those dales which I spent this somer in your sers'ice have byn bestowed." Probably he was the George Gascoigne who in November, 1576, received £20 for " bringinge of Lettres in post for her Majesties affaires frome Andwarpe to Hampton Court." He may have been the author of The Spoyle of Annverpe Faithfully reported by a true Englishman ivho tvas present at the same, printed anonymously in that month; but this is uncertain. In May, 1576, he describes himself as " in weake plight for health," and on Oct. 7, 1577, after an Ulness of some months, he died, recommending his wife and son to the Queen's favour. Francis Kjnwelmersh, who translated acts i and iv of Jocasta, was Gascoigne's friend and fellow student at Gray's Inn, which he entered in 1557. He appears to have been elected member for Bos- siney, Cornwall, in 1572, and to have died about 1580. Some of his poems were included in The Paradyse of Daynty Demises (1576); and in the preface to Belvedere, or the Garden of the Muses (1600), he is mentioned among those who " being deceased, have left divers extant labours, and many more held back from publishing, which viii llBiograjpl)^ for the most part have been perused, and their due right here given them in the Muses Garden." Christopher Yelverton, who wrote the epilogue to yocasta, en- tered Gray's Inn in i 552. He sat in several Elizabethan Parliaments and in 1597 vvas elected Speaker. He was made justice of the king's bench in 1602, and knighted the following year, dying " of very age" in 16 12. Jasper Heywood, in the metrical preface to his translation of Seneca's Thyestes (1560), celebrating the disciples of Melpomene at the Inns of Court, praises Yelverton as a writer of " ditties " along with Sackville and Norton : " such yong men three As weene thou mightst agayne, To be begotte as Pallas was Of myghtie Jove his brayne." SintroDttctton The justice of the term ** The Italian Renascence,'* as applied to European literature is nowhere better ex- emplified than in the history of the drama. It was at Padua that Albertino Mussato, at the beginning of the fourteenth century, took the first step towards the re- vival of this form of art by the composition of an origi- nal Latin tragedy, the Ecerinis. It was on Italian stages that the dramas of the ancients were first repro- duced after the long lapse of the Middle Ages. Itahan writers first made the important step of composing dramas in the vernacular on subjects taken in some cases from the life of their own day. Italian critics first laid down the rules of dramatic art which under the name of the Three Unities provoked so much dis- cussion at a later day. The principal centre of this new born dramatic activity was Ferrara, though it was shared by every Httle court and city ambitious for Renascence culture. Even at such an obscure retreat as Gazzuolo, Lodo- vico Gonzaga, bishop-elect of Mantua, importuned his friends for texts and translations of Plautus, brocade and tapestries to deck the stage, the only consolations of his voluntary exile being, as he himself says, ' * wine and play-acting. ' ' ^ But Ferrara was the leader of the ^ lo non penso se non a vino et representar comedie. Commedie classiche in Gaz'zuolo nel i^oi—'J. Umberto Rossi in Giornale Storico della Letteratura Italiana. Vol. xiu. X idntroUuction movement and will serve us best as an exemplar of its progress. Hercules I deserves remembrance as the Mscenas of Renascence drama. The first record in the Diario ferrarese ^ of the acting of a classical play is in i486, when the Menaechmi of Plautus was given in the court yard on a wooden stage, with five battle- mented houses, each provided with a window and a door, — and the cost of the said festival came to more than 1000 ducats. The chronicler Zambotti adds that ten thousand people looked on with silent attention (con gran taciturnita. ) Next year the Amphitryon was to be presented with equal magnificence, but the performance was interrupted by rain, and had to be given up at five o'clock instead of lasting till nine. This was probably the reason why in 1491 we find the scene transferred to the great hall. The Milanese ambassadors, who were present, sent an elaborate ac- count of the performance to their Duke. Near the middle of the hall, seats were arranged in tiers, in view of four castles, from which the actors issued : first came one who told the substance of the comedy (the Menae- chmi^ which was played with so much skill and grace that all were loud in their praises. In the intervals three intermezzi were given, and these were very fine : the first was a Morris dance with torches ; the second, Apollo with the Nine Muses ; the third, a Morris dance of peasants with implements of labour, who ^ Rerum Italicarum Scriptores (Ed. Muratori, 1738), vol. xxiv. The portions of Zambotti' s Diary referring to the drama have re- cently been collected by G. Pardi under the title, // teatro classico a Ferrara {Atti della deputazione ferrarese di storia patria, vol. xv.) JIntroDuction xi made their exit over each other's shoulders, to the great amusement of the spectators. Finally, the two Menaechmi having recognized each other, one of them put all his goods up by auction, offering to sell them for 1 700 ounces of gold with his wife thrown in, and every one who had a wife that did not suit him was advised to do the same.^ These accompaniments of classical comedy excited greater interest in the minds of some of the spectators than the play itself. Bembo, who was at the Carnival at Ferrara in 1499, makes mention only of the plays. Writing to his friend Angelo Gabrieli to let him know what he has missed, he says that three comedies were acted, two of Plau- tus, the Trinummus and the PoenuluSy and one of Terence, the Eunuchus ,• the last gave so much pleas- ure that it was repeated a second and even a third time. 2 But Jano Pencaro,3 writing to Isabella d' Este Gonzaga, to describe the festival, says very httle about the comedies, and gives elaborate accounts of the in- termezzi. Isabella was so much interested that she came over from Mantua a few weeks later and enjoyed a private representation o{ the three comedies, select- ing the Eunuchus for public repetition. In her letters ' No%ze e commedie alia corte di Ferrara nel Febbraio I4gi — Archi-vio storico lombardo. Serie seconda. Vol. 1. Anno xi, pp. 751-3 (Anno XI. Milano, 1884). ^ Epistolae Familiares, lib. i, no. l8 : Nam ut scias quibus te voluptatibus defraudaveris, tres fabulae actae sunt per hos dies, Plautinae duae, Trinummus et Penulus, et una Terentdi, Eunuchus: quae quidem ita placuit, ut etiam secundo et tertio sit relata. ^ Commedie classiche in Ferrara nel I4gg. A. Luzio and R. Renier in Giornale Storico della Letteratura Italiana, xi, 177-189. xii 31ntrotiuction to her husband, it must be acknowledged, she says much more about the intermezzi than about the come- dies, though she shared the family passion for the drama, and had Plautus and Terence, and even Seneca, in her library. Not to be altogether outdone by Ferrara, Mantua held a dramatic festival at the Carnival of 1501. Sigis- mondo Cantelmo, writing to -the Duke of Ferrara, gives a full description of the hall used as a theatre ; it was adorned with pictures by Mantegna, six of the triumph of Csesar (probably part of the series at Hampton Court) on one side, and the triumphs of Petrarch below and in front of the stage (Dintorno alia scena al frontespitio da basso). The plays were beautifully and charmingly acted — on Friday the Phi- lonico ; on Saturday, the Poenulus of Plautus ; on Sunday the Hippolytus ; on Monday the Adelphi of Terence, all recited in the very best style by competent actors to the very great pleasure and appreciation of the spectators.^ Mantua was, however, far outshone by Ferrara in the following year, when Lucrezia Borgia was wel- comed as the bride of Alfonso d' Este with entertain- ments of unprecedented magnificence. Of these we ^ " Le recitationi sonno state belle et delectevole : Venere fo Phi- lonico : Sabato il Penulo de Plauto : Domenica lo Hippolito : Lu- nedi li Adelphi de Terentio, da persona docte recitate optimamente con grandissima volupta et plausi de spectator!. " — // teatro manto- •vano nel secolo xvi. Alessandro D'Ancona in Giornale Storico v, VI, and VII, afterwards reprinted with additions in Origini del teatro italiano as Appendix 11, vol. 11, p. 349 (ed. 1891). Perhaps for Fhilonko we should read Philodicus : on this point see D' Ancona a. s. p. 381. 31ntroDuction xiii have several centemporary accounts, but by far the most interesting is that of Isabella d' Este Gonzaga in her letters to her husband, who stayed at Mantua. She gives first a description of the great hall in the Palazzo della Ragione, to which her father took her to show her the preparations he had made for the plays. On one side seats were arranged in tiers, with two aisles to divide the women from the men, the women sitting in the middle and the men at the sides. Oppo- site the seats, on the other side of the hall, was a castle made of wood, wdth battlements like the walls of a |dty, and about the height of a man : upon this were •Jie six houses for the comedies. (Evidently the stage was still that of the Sacre Rappresentazioni). The iheatre, it was calculated, would hold about 5,000 persons : the seats were for visitors, and the gentle- Tien of Ferrara would be accommodated as far as there was room for them — a needful limitation, as the population of Ferrara about this time was estimated It 100,000. In later letters the Marchioness tells her ausband about the performance of the plays — five Plautine comedies, Epidicus, Bacchides, Miles Glori- isusy Asinaria, Casina. The Epidicus did not please •Jie Marchioness, but she liked the intermezzi, which .he describes at some length. The Bac chides she found iresome : it was too long, and there were only two Morris dances : she wished she were at home with her lusband and her little boy. ' » Noti-zie di Isabella Estense. Documenti LXVII-LXXIII. I^onte Carlo d' Arco in Archifio Storico Italiano Appendice No. 1 1 vol. II of Appendices to Series i. Firenze, 1845). xiv 3IntroUuction Hercules I died in 1505, and his son, Alfonso I, was fonder of casting cannon than of seeing plays ; but he was not without interest in the drama, and this in- terest was encouraged and supplemented by the enthu- siasm of his brother. Cardinal Ippolito d' Este, who numbered among his suite a young Ferrarese poet and courtier, Lodovico Ariosto. Ariosto's interest in the drama began almost in his childhood. A room is still shown to visitors in his father' s house at Ferrara, where as a boy he acted plays of his own composition with the help of his brothers. ^ This was in the early days of the dramatic revival, when plays on classical sub- jects were being acted, but their form and manner of presentation were still those of the Sacre Rappresenta- zioni ; the most notable example of this mixed type was Yo\\7Az.no''% f avoid di Orfeo (acted at Mantua in 1 471) before it was re-cast into more regular tragic form by Tebaldeo. Later Ariosto became the acknow- ledged leader of the classical school of comedy, and the chief agent of Alfonso I in his various dramatic projects. As early as 1493 he was among the youths who' accompanied Duke Hercules and Don Alfonso to Milan to introduce classical comedy at the court of Lo- dovico Sforza and Beatrice d' Este. At different times he translated plays of Terence and Plautus for the dra- matic festivals then so much in vogue ; he planned the theatre built by Alfonso I, a splendid edifice which was burnt down on the first day of Ariosto's fatal illness ; he superintended the production of the plays and some- times took part in the acting, =^ occupying a position * I Roman'zi. G. B. Pigna. Venice. 1554. p. 72. * See his brother Gabriele's prologue to the Scolauica. 31ntroDuction xv apparently very similar to that of the Master of the Revels at the English Court. But his great and lasting service to the drama was the composition of his come- dies, the first of which, the Cassariay was acted at Ferrara in 1508. It was remarkable, not only as the first modern drama, but as giving occasion for the first recorded use of modern scenery. Bernardino Prosperi, in a letter to Isabella Gonzaga, mentions as the great feature of the entertainments the wonderful scenery painted by Pellegrino da Udine, a landscape in per- spective with houses, churches, steeples, and gardens that the audience never tired of looking at : he thinks it will not be thrown aside, but kept for use another time.' Ariosto's first play was closely followed by the one ] in which we are particularly interested, Gli Soppositi,^ adjudged by competent Italian critics to be the best of his five comedies. It was acted at the carnival of i 509, and we are again indebted to Prosperi' s letter to the Marchioness of Mantua for an account of the perfor- mance : ** On Thursday evening the Cardinal pre- sented his comedy, composed by Lodovico Ariosto, for a modern comedy quite delightful and full of wise ^ The whole question of the origin of modern scenery has been treated by Eduard Flechsig in Die Dekoration der modernen Biihne in Italien 'von den Anfdngen bis "zum Schluss des xvi. Jahrhunderti (Dresden, 1894) and by G. Ferrari in La Scenografia (Milano, 1902). The transition from mediaeval to modern stage-setting has been discussed recently by Messrs. Rigal, Lanson, and Haraszti in La revue d^ histoire litteraire de la France (1903—5) and by Dr. G. F. Reynolds in Modern Philology (1904-5). * So the earlier prose version appears to have been called. xvi BIntrotJuction sayings and laughable speeches and gestures with triple deceits or substitutions. The argument was recited by the author, and is very fine, admirably adapted to our manners and customs, for the incidents happened at Ferrara, so he pretends, as I think that perhaps your Ladyship has heard, and therefore I do not go on to narrate it at greater length. The intermezzi were all of songs and music, and at the end of the comedy Vul- can with the Cyclops forged arrows to the sound of fifes, beating time with hammers and with bells at- tached to their legs, and having finished this business of the arrows with the blowing of bellows, they made a Morris dance with the said hammers." ^ About the same time that classical comedy was re-j vived at Ferrara, similar performances were given at Florence^ and Rome; but both these cities lacked thej stimulus of a dynasty continuously interested in the! drama. The performances at Rome were in Latin,[ and were due to the initiative of the great classics scholar, Pomponius Laetus.3 But it was not until the great Medicean Pope, Leo X, came to the throne, that] the Roman court vied with Ferrara in the splendourj ^ The writer's meaning is sometimes doubtful. See the Italian' text in the Notes^ p. 107. ^ Di altre recita'zioni di commedie lat'tne in Firetize nel secolo XV. Isidoro Del Lungo in Archi-vio Storico Italiano, Serie 3a,M| Tom. xxiii. Anno 1876, pp. 170-5. 11 2 Pomponii Laeti Vita. M. Antonius Sabellicus. '* Pari studio 1 veterem spectandi consuetudinem desuetae civitati restituit, primo- rum antistitum atriis pro theatro usus, in quibus Plauti, Terentii, recentiorum etiam quaedam agerentur fabulae, quas ipse honestos adolescentes et docuit et agentibus praefuit. ' ' 31ntroDuction xvii of its dramatic performances. Ariosto had declined to follow his patron. Cardinal Ippolito, into Hungary, and was induced to re-write the Suppositi in verse for repre- sentation at Rome. A letter to Alfonso d'Este from Alfonso Pauluzzo, dated March 8, 15 19, gives a full account of the performance, which took place on a Sunday evening in the palace of the Pope's nephew. Cardinal Cibo. His Holiness himself took charge of the door, and with quiet dignity admitted whom he would. On one side of the hall was the stage, on the other the seats graded from the ceiling to the floor. In front was the seat of the Pontifex, approached by five steps, and surrounded by places for the ambassadors and cardinals according to their rank; in all there were about 2000 people present. The curtain fell to the sound of fifes, and the Pope with his eye-glass admired the scene, which was very beautiful, painted by Ra- phael, and representing Ferrara ' in perspectives, which were highly praised. The Pope also admired the beau- tiful representation of the sky and the chandeliers, formed in letters, which supported five torches each, and read LEO X. PON. MAXIMUS. Then the Prologue came on the stage and recited the argument, which made jesting allusion to the scene and title of the comedy, so that the Pope laughed gaily enough with the by-standers, although some Frenchmen were scandalized at the jokes about the Suppositi. The comedy was well spoken, with musical interludes after each act. The last intermezzo was a Morris dance ^ AdemoUo's reading of the text, which will be found in the Notes^ pp. 107-08. xviii 3(|ncroDuction representing the story of Gorgon, and was very fine, but not equal, in the opinion of the Ferrarese courtier, to those he had seen in the hall of his master. There was a great crush coming out, and Pauluzzo nearly broke his leg, so that he had to cry out guarda la mia gamba. There was much talk of Messer Lodovico Ariosto and of his excellence in this art; but some thought it was a pity that indecent speeches should be made in the presence of His Holiness; ** and indeed " adds Pauluzzo ' * at the beginning of the comedy there are some passages which are rather blue ' ' ( alcune pa- role rematice). Attention has been called to the conditions under which these plays were acted in order that the reader may realize the position held by the drama in the court life of the Italian Renascence. Englishmen travelling in Italy could not fail to hear of these spectacles and talk of them after their return home. The rise of court comedy in London may be safely attributed to Italian example, for those who had not had the opportunity of seeing Ariosto' s comedies could read them in the numerous editions published before Elizabeth's acces- sion. The type of Italian classical comedy of which the Suppositi is the best example was accepted as the model for Ariosto' s successors. Giraldi Cinthio writes in his Discorso sulle Comedie e sulk Tragedie that **the only comedies worthy of praise to-day . . . are those which imitate the comedies of Ariosto." ^ ^ Ed. G. Daelli, p. 23 : " Tra noi oggidi le lodevoli sono di una sola maniera, e sono quelle che imitano quelle dell' Ariosto." Aretino and Cecchi give Ariosto the highest praise in their prologues, BIntrotJuctton xix Indeed the tvpe invented by Ariosto was admirably adapted for the Italy of the sixteenth century. He acknowledged his indebtedness to Plautus and Ter- ence/ and this ^athercommended him to an age eager for classical culture and proud of its acquirements. The chief characters of Latin comedy were taken over bodily, but skilfully adapted to modern conditions of society, and placed in surroundings familiar to the spectators. Bibbiena's Calandra (1513)2 and Machia- velH's Mandr agora (1525) showed with what vigour and freedom contemporary life could be pourtrayed within the limits of the new form oi dramatic art. Grazzini indeed poked fun at the writers of new comedies which other people had made before, and scoffed at the authority of the classics. ** Aristotle and and a recent critic, Vincenzo De Amicis, describes the work of Ariosto as comprising in brief the whole history of Italian comedy (un riassunto di tutta la storia della commedia italiana). ' See extract from Prologue to Gli Soppodti, on p. iii. The actual borrowings in the play are given in Kehrli, In den Opere Minori des L. Ariosto, pp. 39-40. Guido Marpillero in the Giornale Storico della Letter atur a Italiana, vol. xxxi, pp. 291— 310, has shown that Ariosto was indebted to other Latin comedies beside the two he mentions. He takes not only the stock charac- ters — the greedy parasite, the scheming slave, the doting father — and familiar devices — lost children, disguises, and accidental re- cognitions — but particular jests and scraps of dialogue. He shows, however, genuine power to assimilate his material, and his added touches of local colour come easily and naturally into a play which is indeed a transition product, but is inspired throughout with his own graceful and vivacious wit. '^ The date of this play was formerly put at 1504—8, preceding that of Ariosto' s first comedy, but the point was set beyond doubt by Vernarecci. See D'Ancona, 11, pp. 102-4, XX 3|ntroDuction Horace observed their own times, but ours are of an- other fashion. We have different customs, a different religion, a different manner of life, and therefore our comedies ought to be made in a different way. In Florence people don't live as they used to do in Athens and Rome. There are no slaves here, nor are we accustomed to adopted children, or to pimps who sell young girls. " ^ . . . Cecchi made a similar appeal for a newer type of comedy in the Prologue to La Roma- 7iesca ; 2 but the plea fell on deaf ears or was supported by no voice pow^erful enough to make itself heard. Italian comedy dwindled for long years as a literary form; it was not until the eighteenth century that it was revived by the quick wit and facile pen of Goldoni. The grace and spirit (and perhaps, too, the licen- tiousness) of Ariosto's comedies commended them to foreigners as well as to his own countrymen. The English Puritan Gosson (who was himself the author, in his unregenerate days, of **a cast of Italian devises, called The Comedie of Captaine Mario") shows by a passage in The Schooie of Abuse 3 that the new class- ^ Prologue to La Strega (Venice, 1582), p. 7. Curiously enough, in this very play Grazzini borrowed freely from the Sup- postti. See Delle Commedie di Grazzini, G. Gentile in Antiali della R. Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa, vol. xix (1897), esp. pp. 87-100. ^ Translated by Symonds. Shakspere'' s Predecessors (1884), pp. 260-1. ^ " Here I doubt not but some Archeplayer or other that hath read a little or stumbled by chance upon Plautus Comedies, will cast mee a bone or two to pick, saying, that whatsoever these an- 3|ntrotJuction xxi ical comedy was well known in London in 1579, ^^^ Gascoigne's Supposes \-v2iS doubtless among the **bau- die comedies" translated out of the Italian he con- demns in Playes Confuted in Five Actions (1582), though he refers specially to the London playhouses, and so far as we know, the Supposes was presented only at Gray's Inn in 1566, and Trinity College, Oxford, in 1582.^ Dr. Schiicking ^ has attempted to find earlier traces of Italian influence on English com- edy without much success: indeed Mr. R. Warwick Bond describes his thesis as ** somewhat of an effort to make bricks without straw." Undoubtedly the Sup- poses is at once the earliest and most important piece of evidence we have as to the relations between Italian and early Enghsh comedy. 3 With respect to its liter- cient writers have spoken against plaies is to be applied to the abuses in olde Comedies, where Gods are broughte in, as Prisoners to beautie, ravishers of Virgins, and servantes by love, to earthly crea- tures. But the Comedies that are exercised in our dayes are better sifted. They shewe no such branne : The first smelte of Plautus : These tast of Menander: The lewdenes of Gods, is altred and changed to the love of young men : force to friendshippe ; rapes to mar- iage : wooing allowed by assurance of wedding, privie meetinges of bachelours and maidens on the stage, not as murderers that de- voure the good name ech of other in their mindes, but as those that desire to bee made one in hearte. Nowe are the abuses of the \'. orlde revealed, every man in a playe may see his owne faultes, and learne by this glasse, to amende his manners." Shakespeare S:i!ety, 1 841, pp. 20-21. ^ Diary of the Re-v. Richard Madox, Oxon. (MS. in British Museum), 1582, Jan. 8. "So went we to Trinity . . . and after ;2\v the Supposes handled in their hall indifferently." ^ Die Stojfflichen Be-ziehungen der EngUschen Komodie "zur Italienischen bis Lilly Halle, 1 90 1. ^ The Bugbears^ an Italian adaptation apparently of somewhat xxii iflntrotiuction ary merits an influence, I cannot do better than quote the admirable appreciation of Professor Gayley in the Historical View of English Comedy : ** If it were not for the fact that The Supposes (acted 1566) is a translation of Ariosto's play of the same tide, I should be inclined to say that it was the first English comedy in every way worthy of the name. It certainly is, for many reasons, entitled to be called the first comedy in the English tongue. It is written, not for children, nor to educate, but for grown-ups and solely to delight. It is done into English, not for the \'Tilgar, but for the more advanced taste of the transla- tor's own Inn of Court; it has, therefore, quahdes to captivate those who are capable of appreciating high comedy. It is composed, like its original, in straight- forward, sparkHng prose. It has, also, the rarest fea- tures of the fusion drama: it combines character and situation, each depending upon the other; it combines wit of intellect with humour of heart and fact, intricate and varied plot with motive and steady movement, comic but not farcical incident and language with com- plications surprising, serious, and only not hopelessly embarrassing. It conducts a romantic intrigue in a realisdc fashion through a world oi actualities. With the blood of the New Comedy, the Latin Comedy, the Renaissance in its veins, it is far ahead of its English contemporaries, if not of its time. Without historical apology or artisric concessions it would act well to-day. Both whimsical and grave, its ironies are pro bono pub- later date, was not printed till 1897, when it appeared in Archiv fur das Studium der neueren Sprachen 98—99. 3(lntroDuction xxiii lico; it is constructive as well as critical, imaginative as well as actual. Indeed, when one compares Gas- coigne's work with the original and observes the just liberties that he has taken, the Englishing of sentiment as well as of phrase, one is tempted to say, with Tom Nashe, that in comedy, as in other fields, this writer first * beat a path to that perfection which our best poets have aspired to since his departure.' He did not contrive the plot; but no dramatist before him had se- lected for his audience, translated, and adapted a play so amusing and varied in interest, so graceful, simple, and idiomatic in its style. It was said by R. T., in 1615, that Gascoigne was one of those who first * broke the ice for our quainter poets v^ho now write, that they may more safely swim through the main ocean of sweet poesy,' — a remark which would lose much of its force if restricted to the poet's achievements in sa- tire alone; in the drama of the humanists he excelled his contemporaries, and in the romantic comedy of in- trigue he anticipated those who, like Greene and Shakespeare, adapted the Italian plot to Enghsh man- ners and the English taste. Nor are these the only claims of Gascoigne to consideration: The Supposes, as Professor Herford has justly remarked, is the most Jonsonian of English Comedies before Jonson." ^ As to the intrinsic merits of Gascoigne' s Supposes opinions may differ, and doubtless there are some who will hold Professor Gayley's praise exaggerated; but there can be no question about the influence of the play upon the subsequent development of the English drama. * Representatife English Comedies^ pp. bcxxiv— v. xxiv 31ntrotiuctton Farmer, in his Essay on the Learning of Shakespeare, pointed out how largely The Tami?ig of the Shrew was indebted to the Suppose s,"^ and more recently the careful analysis of Professor Tolman has shown that this indebtedness extends not only to The Taming of a Shrew but to Shakespeare's additions to the older play.^ It is possible, too, that Gascoigne's translation influ- enced another of his greatest contemporaries — Ed- mund Spenser, who, we learn from Gabriel Harvey's letter, wrote nine comedies after Ariosto's manner. Two years after Harvey had acquired his copy of Gas- coigne's Posies y he wrote to his friend Spenser,3 <*I am voyde of al judgement, if your Nine Comoedies, where unto in imitation of Herodotus^ you give the names of the Nine Muses y ( and in one mans fansie not unworthily) come not neerer Ariostoes Comoedies y eyther for the finenesse of plausible Elocution, or the rarenesse of Poetical Invention than that Elvish Queene doth to his Orlando Furioso." But the Nine Come- dies have perished, and we cannot compare the Italian comedy of Gascoigne with those of his more illustrious successor in EngHsh poetry. In his choice of an Italian tragedy Gascoigne was less happy, but it must not be forgotten that he had far less ^ Edition of 1767, p. 31. Eighteenth Century Essays on Shakespeare (Ed. by D. Nichol Smith), p. 201. ^ Publications of the Modern Language Association of America, Vol. V, No. 4, There is an excellent summary of Professor Tol- man's conclusions in Professor Schelling's Life and Writings of Gascoigne, pp. 43—4. ^ Three proper and ivittie familiar letters . . . imprinted at Lon- don by H. Bynneman, 1580, p. 50. 3|ntroUuction xxv to choose from. Italian tragedy was much slower in its development and never attained either the vigorous life or the perfection of form of Renascence comedy. Seneca's tragedies were, it is true, at a very early date imitated at Padua, lectured upon at Florence, printed at Ferrara, and acted at Rome: the masterpieces of Attic tragedy, though less familiar, were not unknown. The first regular Italian tragedy, Trissino's Sofonisbdy was, in- deed, planned upon Greek rather than Roman models; but though written in 15 15 and printed in 1524, it does not seem to have been acted till 1562. It was not without influence, for it imposed the unity of time upon ItaHan tragedy, and made unrhymed verse its characteristic measure; but in spite of the pomp with which it was presented at Vicenza under the auspices of the Olympic Academy, Palladio designing the stage setting, the development of tragedy was due to other examples. Among these the most potent was the Or- becche of Giambattista Giraldi Cinthio, acted at Fer- rara in I 541, first in his owm house before Hercules II, and afterwards before the Cardinals of Ravenna and Salviati. Giraldi, it is true, in the prologue to the Or- becchcy pays a tribute to the noble Trissino, who first of all brought tragedy to the banks of the Arno from the Tiber and the Ilissus. ' But Luigi Groto, a genera- tion later, in the dedication of his Dalida, speaks of the Orbecche as the model of all subsequent tragedies. It undoubtedly marks a crucial stage in the development ^ El Trissino gentil che col suo canto Prima d'ognun dal Tebro e da 1 Iliso Gia trasse la Tragedia a 1 onde d'Arno. xxvi 31ntrotiuction of Italian tragedy. Trissino and his followers had en- deavoured to copy Greek models ; ^ Giraldi brought the Italians back to the example of Seneca, which had pre- vailed at an earlier date in the Latin tragedies such as the Prog?ie of Gregorio Corrarro (modelled on the Thyestes^ and in the loose plays on the lines of the Sacre Rappresentazioni, such as Cammelli's PanJUa, in which the ghost of Seneca speaks the prologue. Not only is the Orbecche in the regular Senecan form of five acts, each terminated by a chorus, but Seneca's ghosts and other horrors are re-introduced to run a not inglorious career in Renascence tragedy. Nemesis, the Furies, and a ghost open the play, which is obviously planned on the lines of the Thyestes. It was acted with success in various places in Italy and abroad, and always made such an impression on the minds of the spectators that they could not refrain from sobs and lamentation. ^ The play was printed in 1543, two years after its first pro- duction, and in this way exercised a far reaching influ- ence; but Giraldi' s main importance is that he wrote, not for the study, but the stage. We have seen that the theatre built at Ferrara by Alfonso I was burnt * This point is well brought out by Dr. Ferdinando Neri in his recent essay La tragedia ttaliana del cinquecento, p. 4 1 • * Giraldi's Discorso, u. s. p. 17: quelle che ogni volta vi erano venute, non poteano contenere i singhiozzi e i pianti. ... I giu- diziosi non solo non I'hanno biasimata, ma trovata degna di tanta lode, che in molti luoghi dell' Italia e stata solennemente rappre- sentata, e gia tanto oltre fu grata che ella favella in tutte le lingue che hanno cognizione della nostra, e non si sdegno il re Cristianissimo volere che nella sua lingua ella facesse di se avanti sua maesta solenne mostra. 3|ntrotiuction xxvii down in 1532, almost as soon as it was completed; but the interest of the Estes in the drama continued. Cle- ment Marot in his nuptial song for Renee of France on her marriage to Hercules (afterwards Hercules II) mentions theatrical performances among the entertain- ments given in her honour. As Duke, Hercules arranged with Giraldi for the composition and performance of dramas, suggested the subject of Cleopatra, and dis- cussed the conditions of representation.^ Giraldi' s son, in dedicating the Epitia after his father's death to the Duchess of Ferrara, lays stress on the fact that it was never acted: the presumption is that the others were, and as to the performance of five out of the nine we have positive records. Very likely Giraldi was the author of the tragedy acted at Ferrara in 1568, about which the Medicean ambassador, Canigiani, was so sarcastic: he said it fulfilled both the ends of tragedy set forth by Aristotle, viz., anger and compassion, for it made the spectators angry with the poet and sorry for themselves. As a rule, however, Giraldi met with a large share of pubhc approval, and he was able, as we have seen, in replying to his critics, to refer to the applause with which his work was received. He made remarkable advances towards the romantic drama: the Altiie, which was already written in 1543, is the first tragedy with a happy ending, and only two of his plots are taken from classical sources, the other seven coming from his own collection of novels, the Ecatommiti. The Arrenopiay ' See Appendix to Dido and letters from Giraldi to the Duke published by Campori in Atti e memorie . . . per le provincie mo- densi eparmend. Vol. viii, Fasc. 4 (1876). xxviii Jlntronuction composed about 1562, is distinctly romantic in char- acter, but it was not printed till 1583, and it seems difficult to establish any connection between Giraldi and the early English drama beyond the indebtedness of Measure for Measure through Whetstone's Promos and Cassatidra.^ Lodovico Dolce was a man of smaller originality than Giraldi, but he was a voluminous writer and ap- pears to have been well known in the England of Elizabeth. Lodge translated some of his sonnets, ^ and the prologue of Gismond of Salem e (Inner Temple, 1567-8) is obviously taken from that of Dolce's Dido (printed in 1547). He was born in Venice in 1508, and died there in 1568, but he wandered much, and led the life of the poor scholar, with litde profit to himself. Much of his work was done for the Venetian publish- ers Gioliti, in whose printing-office he seems to have turned his hand to whatever task was appointed him. Homer, Euripides, Plautus, Vergil, Cicero, Ovid, Horace, Seneca were among the authors he translated in his rather loose fashion; his version of the Odyssey is described as a story taken from Homer rather than a translation. He himself made no claim to exactitude, and asserted his right to deal freely with his material. Unfortunately he departed far enough from his text to forfeit all claim to accuracy as a translator, and did not * Even this debt was not to the playwright Giraldi, but to the novelist, as in the cases of Greene's Jama IV^ and Othello. ^ Pointed out by Max Th. W. Forster in Modern Philologyy vol. II, p. 150, and Sidney Lee in Introduction to Elizabethan Son- nets (English Garner, 1904.), pp. Ixv and Ixxiii. 31ntrotiuction xxix add enough of his own to merit praise for onginality of treatment. The Italian critics of his work say that he knew no Greek, and his mode of dealing with the Phoenissae of Euripides justifies this supposition. A Latin translation of Euripides had been published at Basel by R. Winter in 1541, and to this it appears that Dolce had recourse. Line 982 of the Aldine edi- tion of the Greek text (1503), upon which most sub- sequent editions were founded, reads ©eo-TrpoDTwv ovSa?. So does the Basel edition of Hervagius (1537), and no edition I have been able to consult gives the Greek reading underlying Dolce' s N' andrai al terreno di Tesbroti. But the Latin translation of 1541 does give *«Ad solum Thesbrotorum." It is curious that this Italian version of a Latin translation of the Phoenissae y when reduced to EngUsh, should have been passed off on the learned society of Grays Inn in 1566 as a translation from the Greek; and still more curious that it should have been accepted as such by three centuries of Eng- lish critics. The indebtedness of the Jocasta of Gas- coigne and Kinwelmersh to Dolce' s tragedy was first pointed out by Professor J. P. MahafFy in his litde book on Euripides (Classical Writers Series), published in 1879; afterwards by J. A. Symonds in his Predeces- sors of Shakspere (1884), where it attracted more general attention. The closeness with which the Eng- lish translators stuck to then* Italian text (except in the choruses) is made clear for the first time in the parallel text and notes foUowing. XXX 3Itttrotiuction The translators of Dolce, it will be seen, added practically nothing to their original. Gascoigne treated Ariosto with greater freedom, and, as Professor Gay- ley points out, showed considerable ingenuity in adapt- ing Italian names and customs to English usages. He added, too, a rather heavy-handed morality and an occasional grossness which detract in some degree from the effectiveness of the original play. But the substan- tial merits of Ariosto' s comedy, its light and easy dia- logue, its genuine wit and humour, are successfully con- veyed into a prose, which, indeed, will hardly bear comparison with the Italian, but is of conspicuous merit among our own early comedies. This is Gascoigne' s real contribution to the development of English drama, and it is one of no small moment. Renascence com- edy and tragedy, for causes which do not here concern us, were doomed in Italy to early decay: transplanted to England, under different conditions of national tem- per, intellectual outlook, and theatrical opportunity, they helped to produce the form of art which is the greatest glory of the Elizabethan age. ^«ppo0ejs THE TEXT The text adopted in this edition of the Supposes and Jocasta is that of 1575 (Q2) " corrected, perfected, and augmented by the Authour," the title-page of which is here reproduced in facsimile from the Bodleian copy, which once belonged to Gabriel Harvey. Q2 was practically a reprint of Qi, issued by the same publisher in 1573 with Gascoigne's authority, as already noted (p, v) : most, but not all, of the list of " faultes escaped correction " in Qi are amended in Q2, and the side-notes are added. Q3 (1587) is a reprint of Qa, repeating its errors and adding a few others. The original spelling of ^2 has been followed, except that abbreviated forms such as &, o, n, etc., have been filled out. The capitalization has been modernised : changes in punctuation affecting the sense are duly indicated. In designating speakers and adding stage-directions, the practice of previous issues in the same series has been followed. i?2isj SSS© Hiiifiiii^iW: — ' V^.i^^ THE POSIES of George Gafcoig^ne 5J Efquire. Corre£led, perfeded, and augmented byihe Auihour. I f 7 f. 7"f^'ni',Cd.SUppOC;efif [Act I. both name, habite, clothes, and credite with his servant Dulipo (whom only he brought with him out of Sicilia), and so with the turning of a hand, of Erostrato a gentleman he became Dulipo a serving man, and soone after sought 125 service of my father, and obteyned it. Ba, Are you sure of this ? Po. Yea, out of doubt : on the other side Dulippo tooke uppon him the name of Erostrato his maister, the habite, the credite, bookes, and 130 all things needefull to a studente, and in shorte space profited very muche, and is nowe esteemed as you see. Ba. Are there no other Sicylians heere : nor none that passe this way which may discover 135 them ? Po. Very fewe that passe this way, and fewe or none that tarrie heere any time. Ba. This hath been a straunge adventure; but, I pray you, howe hang these thinges to- 140 gither — that the studente whome you say to be the servant, and not the maister, is become an earnest suter to you, and requireth you of your father in mariage ? Po. That is a pollicie devised betweene them, 145 to put Doctor Dotipole out of conceite : the olde dotarde, he that so instantly dothe lye upon my father for me. But, looke where he comes, Scene n] ^UppO0e0 1 3 as God helpe me, it is he : out upon him, what a luskie yonker is this! yet I had rather be a 150 noonne a thousande times, than be combred with suche a coystrell. Ba. Daughter, you have reason ; but let us go in before he come any neerer. Polynesia goeth in, and Balya stayeth a little whyle after, speaking a worde or two to the Doctor, and then departeth. SCENA 2. Cleander, doctor. Pasiphilo, parasite. Balya, nourse. \_Cleander.'^ Were these dames heere, or did mine eyes dazil ? Pasiphilo. Nay, syr, heere were Polynesta and hir nourse. Cle. Was my Polynesta heere ? alas ! I knewe 5 hir not. Ba. \_aside'\. He muste have better eyesight that shoulde marry your Polynesta, or else he may chaunce to oversee the best poynt in his tables sometimes. 10 Pa. Syr, it is no marvell, the ayre is very mistie too day : I my selfe knew hir better by hir apparell than by hir face. Cie. In good fayth, and I thanke God I have I tAese. Qi, there. 14 ^UppO0e0 [Act I. mine eye sighte good and perfit, little worse than when I was but twentie yeres olde. Pa. How can it be otherwise ? you are but yong. Cle. I am fiftie yeres olde. Pa. [aside'] . He telles ten lesse than he is. Cle. What sayst thou of ten lesse ? Pa. I saye I woulde have thoughte you tenne lesse; you looke like one of sixe and thirtie, or seven and thirtie at the moste. Cle. I am no lesse than I tell. Pa. You are like inough too live fiftie more : shewe me your hande. Cle. Why, is Pasiphilo a chiromancer ? Pa. What is not Pasiphilo ? I pray you shewe mee it a little. Cle. Here it is. Pa. O how straight and infracte is this line of life ! you will live to the yeeres of Melchi- sedech. Cle. Thou wouldest say, Methusalem. Pa. Why, is it not all one ? Cle. I perceive you are no very good Bibler, Pasiphilo. Pa. Yes, sir, an excellent good Bibbeler, specially in a bottle. Oh, what a mounte of Venus here is ! but this lighte serveth not very '5 P^^fi^' Q3) perfect. 40 mounte. Q3, mouth. Scene II.] ^UppO^eS! 1 5 well ; I will beholde it an other day, when the ayre is clearer, and tell you somewhat, perad- venture to your contentation. Cle. You shal do me great pleasure : but tell 45 me, I pray thee, Pasiphilo, whome doste thou thinke Polynesta Hketh better, Erostrato or me ? Pa. Why you, out of doubt : she is a gentle- woman of a noble minde, and maketh greater 5° accompte of the reputation she shall have in marrying your worship, than that poore scholer whose birthe and parentage God knoweth, and yery fewe else. Cle. Yet he taketh it upon him bravely in 55 this countrey. Pa. Yea, where no man knoweth the con- trarie ; but let him brave it, host his birth, and do what he can : the vertue and knowledge that is within this body of yours is worth more than 60 all the countrey he came from. Cle. It becommeth not a man to praise him selfe : but, in deede, I may say (and say truely) that my knowledge hath stoode me in better steade at a pinche than coulde all the goodes in 65 the worlde. I came out of Otranto when the Turkes wonne it, and first I came to Padua, after hither, where by reading, counsailing and 56 this. Qi, the. 1 6 ^UppO0efl( [Act I. pleading, within twentie yeares I have gathered and gayned as good as ten thousande ducats. 7® Pa. Yea, mary, this is the righte knowledge : philosophie, poetrie, logike, and all the rest, are but pickling sciences in comparison to this. Cle. But pyckling in deede, whereof we have a verse : The trade oflaijoe doth fill the boystrous baggesy They sivimme in silke^ luhen others royst in ragges. Pa. O excellent verse ; who made it ? Virgil ? Cle. Virgil ? tushe, it is written in one of our gloses. Pa. Sure, who soever wrote it, the morall is excellent, and worthy to be written in letters of golde. But to the purpose : I thinke you shall never recover the wealth that you loste at Otranto. 85 Cle. I thinke I have dubled it, or rather An other made it foure times as muche : but, in deed, supose. I lost mine only sonne there, a childe of five yeres olde. Pa. O, great pitie ! 90 Cle. Yea, I had rather have lost al the goods in the world. Pa. Alas, alas ! by God, and grafts of suche a stocke are very gayson in these dayes. Cle. I know not whether he were slayne, or 95 91 ha've. Qi omits, 94 gayson. Q3, geason. Scene II.] ^UPPOSffS? 1 7 the Turks toke him and kept him as a bond slave. Pa. Alas, I could weepe for compassion, but there is no remedy but patience ; you shall get many by this yong damsell with the grace of loo God. Cle. Yea, if I get hir. Pa. Get hir ? why doubt you of that ? Cle. Why ? hir father holds me off with de- layes, so that I must needes doubt. 105 Pa. Content your selfe, sir, he is a wise man, and desirous to place his daughter well : he will not be too rashe in hys determination, he will thinke well of the matter ; and lette him thinke, for the longer he thinketh, the more good of you no shall he thinke. Whose welth, whose vertue, whose skill, or whose estimation can he com- pare to yours in this citie ? Cle. And hast thou not tolde him that I would make his daughter a dower of two thousand du-115 cates ? Pa. Why, even now; I came but from thence since. Cle. What said he ? Pa. Nothing, but that Erostrato had proferediao the like. Cle. Erostrato ? how can he make any dower, and his father yet alive ? 1 8 ^nppO£itSi [Act I. Pa. Thinke you I did not tell him so? yes, I warrant you, I forgot nothing that may furderns your cause : and doubte you not, Erostrato shal never have hir, unlesse it be in a dreame. Ck. Well, gentle Pasiphilo, go thy wayes and tell Damon I require nothing but his daugh- ter : I wil none of his goods: I shal enrich hir 130 of mine owne : and if this dower of two thou- sand ducates seem not sufficient, I wil make it five hundreth more, yea a thousand, or what so ever he wil demaund rather then faile. Go to, Pasiphilo, shew thy selfe frendly in working this 135 feate for me : spare for no cost ; since I have gone thus farre, I wilbe loth to be out bidden. Go. Pa. Where shall I come to you againe ? C/e. At my house. 140J Pa. When ? C/e. When thou wilte. Pa. Shall I come at dinner time ? Ck. I would byd thee to dinner, but it is a Saincts even which I have ever fasted. 14* Pa. [aside^ . Faste, till thou famishe. Cte. Harke! Pa. [aside\ . He speaketh of a dead mans faste. Cle. Thou hearest me not. i5< Pa. Nor thou understandest me not. Scene III.] g)UPpO0e0 1 9 Cle. I dare say thou art angrie I byd the not to dinner : but come, if thou wilte ; thou shalt take such as thou findest. Pa. What! think you I know not where to 155 dine ? Cle. Yes, Pasiphilo, thou art not to seeke. Pa. No, be you sure, there are enowe will pray me. Cle. That I knowe well eno-ugh, Pasiphilo ; 160 but thou canst not be better welcome in any place than to me ; I will tarrie for thee. Pa. Well, since you will needes, I will come. Cle. Dispatche, then, and bring no newes but good. 165 Pa. Better than my rewarde, by the rood. Oleander exit. Pasiphilo restat. ScENA iii. Pasiphilo. \_Later~\ Dulipo. \_Pasiphilo., alone.'j O miserable covetous wretche, he findeth an excuse by S. Nicolas fast, bicause I should not dine with him, as though I should dine at his owne dishe : he maketh goodly feasts, I promise you ; it is no wonder 5 though hee thinke me bounde unto him for my fare : for over and besides that his provision 3 ivitb. Q3 omits. 20 ^UPPO000 [Act I. II is as skant as may be, yet there is great differ- ence betweene his diet and mine. I never so much as sippe of the wine that he tasteth, I feede at the hordes ende with browne bread : marie, I reach always to his owne dishe, for there are no more but that only on the table. Yet he thinks that for one such dinner I am bound to do him al the service that I can, and 15 thinks me sufficiently rewarded for all my travell with one suche festivall promotion. And yet, peradventure, some men thinke I have great gaines under him : but I may say and sweare, that this dosen yeere I have not gayned so muche in 20 value as the points at my hose (whiche are but three with codpeece poynt and al) : he thinkes that I may feede upon his favour and faire wordes : but if I could not otherwise provide for one, Pasiphilo were in a wyse case. Pasiphilo hath mo pastures to passe in than one, I war- rant you : I am of householde with this scholer Erostrato (his rivale) as well as with Domine Cleander : nowe with the one, and then with the other, according as I see their caters pro- vide good cheere at the market ; and I finde the meanes so to handle the matter, that I am welcome too bothe. If the one see me talke with the other, I make him beleeve it is to bar- ken newes in the furtherance of his cause : and Scene III.] ^UPpO0f0 21 thus I become a broker on bothe sides. Well, lette them bothe apply the matter as well as they can, for, in deede, I will travell for none of them bothe : yet will I seeme to worke wonders on eche hande. [Enter Dulipo.^ But is not this one 40 of Damons servants that commeth foorth ? It is : of him I shall understand where his master is. Whither goeth this joyly gallant ? Dulipo. I come to seeke some body that may accompany my master at dinner; he is alone, 45 and would fayne have good company. Pa. Seeke no further, you coulde never have found one better than me. Du. I have no commission to bring so many. Pa. How many ? I will come alone. 50 Du. How canst thou come alone, that hast continually a legion of ravening wolves within thee ? Pa. Thou doest (as servants commonly doe) hate al that love to visite their maisters. 55 Du. And why ? Pa. Bicause they have too many teeth as you thinke. Du. Nay, bicause they have to many tongues. Pa. Tongues ? I pray you what did my tongue 60 ever hurt you ? Du. I speake but merily with you, Pasiphilo ; goe in, my maister is ready to dine. 43 j°yh- Qs, jolly- 22 ^UppOS?e0 [Act I. Pa. What ! dineth he so earely ? Du. He that riseth early, dineth early. 65 Pa, I would I were his man. Maister Doc- tor never dineth till noone, and how dilicately then, God knoweth. I wil be bolde to goe in, for I count my selfe bidden. Du. You were best so. 70 Pasiphilo intrat. Dul\Jpo] restat. Hard hap had I when I first began this unfortu- nate enterprise : for I supposed the readiest medi- cine to my miserable affects had bene to change name, clothes, and credite with my servant, and to place my selfe in Damons service : think- 75 : ing that as shevering colde by glowing fire, thurst by drinke, hunger by pleasant repasts, and i a thousande suche like passions finde remedie ■i by their contraries, so my restless desire might * ' have founde quiet by continuall contemplation. 80 But, alas, I find that only love is unsaciable : for, as the flie playeth with the flame till at last she is cause of hir owne decay, so the lover that thinketh with kissing and colling to content his unbrideled apetite, is commonly scene the- only 85 cause of his owne consumption. Two yeeres are nowe past since (under the colour of Damons service) I have bene a sworne servant to Cupid, Padphilo . . . restat. No stage-direction in Qi. 73 affects. Qi, effectes. Scene III] g)UPpO0e0 23 of whom I have received as much favour and grace as ever man founde in his service. I have 90 free libertie at al times to behold my desired, to talke with hir, to embrace hir, yea (be it spoken in secrete) to lie with hir. I reape the fruites of my desire : yet, as my joyes abounde, even so my paines encrease. I fare like the covetous 95 man, that having all the world at will, is never yet content : the more I have, the more I desire. Alas, what wretched estate have I brought my selfe unto, if in the ende of all my farre fetches, she be given by hir father to this oldeioo doting doctor, this buzard, this bribing villaine, that by so many meanes seeketh to obtain hir at hir fathers hands ? I know she loveth me best of all others, but what may that prevaile, when perforce she shalbe constrained to marie another ? 105 Alas, the pleasant tast of my sugred joyes doth yet remaine so perfect in my remembrance, that the least soppe of sorow seemeth more soure than gal in my mouth. If I had never knowen delight, with better contentation might I have no passed these dreadful dolours. And if this olde Mumpsimus (whom the pockes consume) should win hir, then may I say, " Farewell the pleasant talke, the kind embracings, yea, farewel the sight of my Polynesta " : for he, like a jelouseii5 103 lo'vetb. Q3, loves. 24 g>UppO0eSl [Act I. wretch, will pen hir up, that I thinke the birdes of the aire shall not winne the sighte of hir. I hoped to have caste a blocke in his waie by the meanes that my servaunt (who is supposed to be Erostrato, and with my habite and credite is 120 wel esteemed) should proffer himself a suter, at the least to countervaile the Doctors proffers. But, my maister knowing the wealth of the one, and doubting the state of the other, is determined to be fed no longer with faire wordes, but to 125 accept the Doctor (whom he right well knoweth) for his Sonne in law. Wel, my servant promised me yesterday to devise yet againe some newe conspiracie to drive Maister Doctor out of con- ceite, and to laye a snare that the foxe himselfei3o might be caughte in : what it is, I knowe not, nor I saw him not since he went about it : I will goe see if he be within, that at least if he helpe me not, he maye yet prolong my life for this once. But here commeth his lackie : ho! 135 Jack pack, where is Erostrato ? Here must Crapine be comming in with a basket and a sticke in his hand. 136 Jack pack, (^i, Jack heark. Scene IIII] &VLPPO&t^ 25 ScENA iiii. CrapinOy the lackie, Dulipo. [Crapino.'] Erostrato ? mary he is in his skinne. Dulipo. Ah, hooreson boy, I say, how shall I finde Erostrato ? Cra. Finde him ? howe meane you ? by the 5 weeke or by the yeere ? Du. You cracke-halter, if I catche you by the eares, I shall make you answere me di- rectly. Cra. [^going'j . In deede ? 10 Du. Tarry me a little. Cra. In faith, sir, I have no leisure. Du. Shall we trie who can runne fastest ? [ They run, and Dulipo catches Crapino.'^ Cra. Your legges be longer than mine, you should have given me the advauntage. 15 Du. Go to, tell me where is Erostrato ? Cra. I left him in the streete, where he gave me this casket (this basket I would have sayde) and bad me beare it to Dalio, and returne to him at the Dukes palace. 20 Du. If thou see him, tell him I must needes speake with him immediatly: or abide awhyle. 26 ^UPpCfifefif [Act I. I will go seeke him my selfe, rather than be sus- pected by going to his house. Crapino departethy and Dulipo also : after Dulipo commeth in agayncy seeking Eros- trato. Finis Actus i. Actus ii. Scena I. Dulipo. \_Later^ Erostrato. \_DuUpo.'\ I thinke if I had as many eyes as Argus, I coulde not have sought a man more narrowly in every streete and every by lane ; there are not many gentlemen, scholers, nor marchauntes in the citie of Ferara, but I have mette with them, excepte him : peradventure hee is come home an other way; but looke where he commeth at the last. \_Enter Erostrato.'] Erostrato. In good time have I spied my good maister. Du. For the love of God call me Dulipo (not master,) maintayne the credite that thou haste hitherto kepte, and let me alone. Ero. Yet, sir, let me sometimes do my duetie unto you, especially where no body heareth. Du. Yea, but so long the parat useth to crie knappe in sporte that at the last she calleth hir maister knave in earnest : so long you will use to call me master that at the last we shall be heard. What newes ? Ero. Good. Du. In deede ? 28 g>UppO0e0 [Act II. Ero. Yea, excellent ! we have as good as won the wager. Du. Oh, how happie were I if this were 25 true ! £7-0. Heare you me ; yesternight, in the evening, I walked out, and founde Pasiphilo, and with small entreating I had him home to supper, where, by suche meanes as I used, he became 30 my great friend, and tolde me the whole order of our adversaries determination : yea, and what Damon doth intende to do also; and hath pro- mised me that from time to time, what he can espie he will bring me word of it. 35 Du. I can not tel whether you know him or no ; he is not to trust unto, a very flattering and a lying knave. Ero. I know him very well, he can not de- ceive me : and this that he hath told me I know 40 must needes be true. Du. And what was it in effect ? Ero. That Damon had purposed to give Another his daughter in mariage to this doctor, upon supose. the dower that he hath profered. 45 Du. Are these your good newes ? your excel- lent newes ? Ero. Stay a whyle ; you will understande me before you heare me. Du. Well, say on. 50J Scene I] &XXppOSit& 29 Ero, I answered to that, I was ready to make hir the lyke dower. Du. Well sayde. Ero. Abide, you heare not the worst yet. Du. O God, is there any worsse behinde ? 55 Ero. Worsse ? why, what assurance coulde you suppose that I might make without some speciall consent from Philogano my father ? Du. Nay, you can tell, you are better scholer than I. 60 Ero. In deede you have lost your time : for the books that you tosse now a dayes treate of smal science. Du. Leave thy jesting, and proceede. Ero. 1 sayd further, that I receyved letters 65 lately from my father, whereby I understoode that he woulde be heere very shortly to performe all that I had profered; therefore I required him to request Damon on my behalf, that he would stay his promise to the doctor for a fourtnight 70 or more. Du. This is somewhat yet, for by this meanes I shal be sure to linger and live in hope one fourtnight longer ; but at the fourthnights ende, when Philogano commeth not, how shall I then 75 do ? yea, and though he came, howe may I any way hope of his consent when he shall see that to follow this amorous enterprise I have set 30 g)uppos?es; [act h. aside all studie, all remembraunce of my duetie, and all dread of shame. Alas, alas, I may go go hang my selfe ! Ero, Comforte your selfe, man, and trust in me : there is a salve for every sore \ and doubt you not, to this mischeefe we shall iinde a remedie. 85 Du, O friend, revive me, that hitherto, since I first attempted this matter, have bene contin- ually dying. Ero. Well, harken a while then : this morn- ing I tooke my horse, and rode into the fieldes 90 to solace my self, and as I passed the foorde beyonde S. Anthonies gate, I met, at the foote of the hill, a gentleman riding with two or three men : and as me thought by his habite and his lookes, he should be none of the wisest. He saluted me, and I him : I asked him from whence he came, and whither he would ? he answered that he had come from Venice, then from Padua, nowe was going to Ferrara, and so to his countrey, whiche is Scienna. As soone as i I knewe him to be a Scenese, sodenly lifting up mine eyes (as it were with an admiration), I sayd unto him, " Are you a Scenese, and come to Ferrara ? " " Why not ? " sayde he : quoth I (halfe and more with a trembling voyce), " Know i you the daunger that should ensue if you be Scene I] g)UppO£fe0 3 1 knowne in Ferrara to be a Scenese ? " He, more than halfe amased, desired me earnestly to tell him what I ment. Du. I understande not wherto this tendeth. no Ero. I beleeve you : but harken to me. Du. Go too, then. Ero. I answered him in this sorte : " Gentle- man, bycause I have heretofore founde very curteous entertaynement in your countrey (bee- 115 ing a student there), I accompt my self as it were bounde to a Scenese : and therefore if I knewe of any mishappe towards any of that countrey, God forbid but I should disclose it : and I marvell that you knewe not of the injurieiio that your countreymen offered this other day to the Embassadours of Counte Hercules." Du. What tales he telleth me! w^hat apper- tayne these to me ? Ero. If you will harken a whyle, you shall 125 finde them no tales, but that they appertayne to you more than you thinke for. Du. Foorth. Ero. I tolde him further, these Ambassadoures of Counte Hercules had dyvers mules, waggons, 130 and charettes, laden with divers costly jewels, gorgeous furniture, and other things which 122 Counte Hercules. Qi, Countie Hercule. Q3, Count)- Her- cules. 32 g>uppo0e0 [Act II. they caried as presents (passing that way) to the King of Naples : the which were not only stayd in Sciene by the officers whom you cal cus- tomers, but serched, ransacked, tossed and turned, and in the end exacted for tribute, as if they had bene the goods of a meane mar- chaunt. Du. Whither the divell wil he ? is it possible that this geare appertaine any thing to my cause ? I iinde neither head nor foote in it. Ero. O how impacient you are : I pray you stay a while. Du. Go to yet a while then. Ero, I proceeded, that upon these causes the Duke sent his Chauncelor to declare the case unto the Senate there, of whome he had the moste uncurteous answere that ever was heard : wherupon he was so enraged with all of that countrey, that for revenge he had sworne to spoyle as many of them as ever should come to Ferara, and to sende them home in their dublet and their hose. Du. And I pray thee, how couldest thou upon the sudden devise or imagine suche a lye ? and to what purpose ? Ero. You shall heare by and by a thing as fitte for our purpose as any could have happened. 141 appertaine. ^l, appertaineth. 35 140 145 150 155 Scene I.] ^XXppO&t^ 33 Du. I would fayne heare you conclude. 160 Era. You would fayne leape over the stile before you come at the hedge : I woulde you had heard me, and seene the gestures that I en- forced to make him beleeve this. Du. I beleeve you, for I knowe you can 165 counterfet wel. £ro. Further I sayde, the Duke had charged, upon great penalties, that the inholders and vitlers shoulde bring worde dayly of as many Sceneses as came to their houses. The gentle- 170 man beeing (as I gessed at the first) a man of smal sapientia^ when he heard these newes, would have turned his horse an other way. Du. By likelyhoode he was not very wise when hee would beleeve that of his countrey 175 which, if it had bene true, every man must needes have knowen it. Ero. Why not? when he had not beene in his countrey for a moneth paste, and I tolde him this had hapned within these seven dayes. 180 Du. Belike he was of small experience. Ero. I thinke, of as litle as may be : but beste of all for our purpose and good adventure it was, that I mette with such an one. Now barken, I pray you. 185 Du. Make an ende, I pray thee. Ero. He, as I say, when he hard these words, 34 g>UppO0r0 [Act IL would have turned the bridle : and I, fayning a countenance as though I were somewhat pen- sive and carefull for him, paused a while, and 190 after, with a great sighe, saide to him: " Gentle^ man, for the curtesie that (as I said) I have found in your countrey, and bicause your affaires shall be the better dispatched, I will finde the meanes to lodge you in my house, and you shal say to 195 every man, that you are a Sicilian of Cathanea, your name Philogano, father to me that am in deede of that countrey and citie, called here Erostrato. And I (to pleasure you) will (during your abode here) do you reverence as you were 200 my father." Du. Out upon me, what a grosse hedded foole am I ! Now I perceive whereto this tale tendeth. Ero. Well, and how like you of it ? Du. Indifferently, but one thing I doubt. 205 Ero. What is that ? Du. Marie, that when he hath bene here twoo or three dayes, he shal heare of every man that there is no such thing betwene the Duke and the Towne of Sciene. 210 Ero, As for that, let me alone ! I doe enter- taine and will entertaine him so well, that within these two or three dales I will disclose unto him all the whole matter, and doubte not but to bring him in for performance of as muche as 215 Scene L] ^UppOStS 35 I have promised to Damon : for what hurte can it be to him, when he shall binde a strange name, and not his owne ? Du. What, thinke you he will be entreated to stande bounde for a dower of two thousand 220 ducates by the yeere ? Ero. Yea, why not (if it were ten thousande), as long as he is not in deede the man that is bound ? Bu. Well, if it be so, what shall we be the neerer to our purpose ? 225 Ero. Why, when we have done as muche as we can, how can we doe any more ? Du. And where have you left him ? Ero. At the inne, bicause of his horses : he and his men shall lie in my house. 230 Du. Why brought you him not with you ? Ero. I thought better to use your advise first. Du. Well, goe take him home, make him all the cheere you can, spare for no cost ; I will alowe it. 235 Ero. Content : looke where he commeth. Du. Is this he ? goe, meete him. Bv my trouthe, he lookes even lyke a good foule ; he that fisheth for him mighte bee sure to catche a cods heade: I will rest here a while to discipher24o him. Erostrato espieth the Scenese, and goeth towards him ; Dulipo stande th aside. 230 men. (^3, man. 36 ^UppOSfrSf [Act n. SCENA ii. The Scenese, Paquetio and Petrucio his servants. [Later'] Erostrato. [The Scenese.'] He that travaileth in this worlde passeth by many perilles. Paquetto. You saye true, sir ; if the An other boate had bene a little more laden this supose, morning at the ferrie, wee had bene all drowned, 5 for I thinke there are none of us that could have swomme. Sc. I speake not of that. Pa. O, you meane the foule waye that we had since wee came from this Padua ; I promise you, I was afraide twice or thrice that your mule would have lien fast in the mire. Sc. Jesu ! what a blockehead thou art ! I speake of the perill we are in presently since we came into this citie. 15 Pa. A great peril, I promise you, that we were no sooner arived but you founde a frende that brought you from the inne, and lodged you in his owne house. Sc. Yea, marie, God rewarde the gentle yong 20 Paquetto and Petrucio his servants. Qi, Faumlus his servaunt. Fa. mstead of Pa. throughout this scene. 17 but. Qi, than. Scene II. ] ^UPPO0e0 37 man that we mette, for else we had a doltish bene in a wise case by this time. But supose. have done with these tales, and take you heede, and you also, sirra ! take heede that none of you saie we be Sceneses, and remember that you call 25 me Philogano of Cathanea. Pa. Sure I shal never remember these out- landish words ! I could well remember Hac- canea. iS'^:. I say Cathanea, and not Haccanea, with 30 a vengeance ! Pa. Let another name it then when neede is, for I shall never remember it. Sc. Then holde thy peace, and take heede thou name not Scene. 35 Pa. Howe say you if I faine my selfe dum, as I did once in the house of Crisobolus ? Sc. Doe as thou thinkest best : but looke where commeth the gentleman whom we are so muche bounde unto. \_E?it£r Erostrato.'\ 40 Ero. Welcome, my deare father Philogano. Sc. Gramercie, my good sonne Erostrato. Ero. That is well saide ; be mmdefuU of your toung, for these Ferareses be as craftie as the devill of hell. 45 Sc. No, no, be you sure we will doe as you have bidden us. Ero. For if you should name Scene, they 38 ^nppo&t& [acth. would spoile you immediatly, and turne you out of the towne, with more shame than I woulde shoulde befall you for a thousande crownes. Sc. I warant you, I was giving them warn- ing as I came to you, and I doubt not but they will take good heede. Ero. Yea, and trust not the servauntes of my housholde to far, for they are Ferareses all, and never knew my father, nor came never in Sici- lia : this is my house j will it please you to goe in ? I will follow. They goe in. Dulipo tarieth and espieth the Doctor comming in with his man. ScENA iii. Dulipo alone. ^Dulipo.~\ This geare hath had no evill begin- ning, if it continue so, and fall to happie ende. But is not this the silly Doctor with the side bonet, the doting foole that dare presume to be- come a suter to such a peerlesse paragone ? O how covetousnesse doth blind the common sort of men ! Damon, more desirous of the dower than mindfull of his gentle and gallant daughter, hath determined to make him his sonne in law, 4 dare. Q3, dares. Scene IIII] ^UPPOS?fS> 39 who for his age may be his father in law : and lo hath greater respect to the abundance of goods than to his owne natural! childe. He beareth well in minde to fill his owne purse, but he litle remembreth that his daughters purse shalbe con- tinually emptie, unlesse Maister Doctour fill it 15 with double ducke egges. Alas ! I jest and have no joy. I will stand here aside and laugh a litle at this lobcocke. Dulippo espieth the Doctor and his man com- ming. ScENA iiii. Cariony the Doctors man. Cleander. Dulipo. \_Carion.'j Maister, what the divel meane you to goe seeke guestes at this time of the day ? the Maiors officers have dined ere this time, which are alway the last in the market. Cleander. I come to seeke Pasiphilo, to the 5 ende he may dine with mee. Ca. As though sixe mouthes and the cat for the seventh bee not sufficient to eate an harlotrie shotterell, a pennieworth of cheese, and halte a score spurlings : this is all the dainties you have 10 dressed for you and your familie. Cle. Ah, greedie gut, art thou afearde thou shalt want ? 40 g^UPpOSfefif [Act n. Ca, I am afearde in deede ; it is not the first time I have founde it so. 15 Dulipo [aside\ . Shall I make some sporte with this gallant ? what shall I say to him ? Cle. Thou arte afearde belike that he will eate thee and the rest. Ca. Nay, rather that he will eate your mule, 20 both heare and hyde. Cle, Heare and hyde ? and why not flesh and all? Ca. Bicause she hath none. If she had any flesh, I thinke you had eaten hir your selfe by 25 this time. Clg. She may thanke you then for your good attendance. Ca, Nay, she may thanke you for your small allowance. 30 Du. [asidel^ . In faith now let me alone. Cle. Holde thy peace, drunken knave, and espie me Pasiphilo. Du. ^aside'^. Since I can doe no better, I will set such a staunce betweene him and Pasiphilo, 35 that all this towne shall not make them friendes. Ca. Could you not have sent to seeke him, but you must come your selfe ? Surely you come for some other purpose, for if you would have had Pasiphilo to dinner, I warant you he would 40 have taried here an houre since. Scene Un.] ^\XppO&t& 4 1 Cie. Holde thy peace ; here is one of Damons servaunts; of him I shall understand where An other he is. Good fellow, art not thou one of supose. Damons servaunts ? 45 Du. Yes, sir, at your knamandement. Cle. Gramercie, tell me then, — hath Pasiphilo bene there this day or no ? Du. Yes, sir, and I thinke he be there still, ah, ah, ah. 5© C/e. What laughest thou .? Du. At a thing that every man may not laugh at. Cle. What? Du. Talke that Pasiphilo had with my mas- 55 ter this day. C/e. What talke, I pray thee ? Du. I may not tell it. C/e. Doth it concerne me? Du. Nay, I will say nothing. 6o C/e. Tell me. Du. I can say no more. C/e. I woulde but knowe if it concerne mee. I pray thee tell me. Du. I would tell you, if I were sure you 65 would not tell it againe. C/e. Beleve me, I will kepe it close. Carion, give us leave a litle, goe aside. Du. If my maister shoulde know that it 42 §)UJPpO0eS; [Act II. came by me, I were better d?e a thousand 70 deaths. Cle. He shall never know it : say on. Du, Yea, but what assurance shall I have ? Cle. I lay thee my faith and honestie in paune. 75 Du. A pretie paune, the fulkers will not lend you a farthing on it. Cle. Yea, but amongst honest men it is more worth than golde. Du. Yea, marie, sir, but where be they ? but 80 will you needes have me tell it unto you ? Cle. Yea, I pray thee, if it any thing apper- taine to me. • Du. Yes, it is of you, and I would gladly tell it you, bicause I would not have suche a man of 85 worship so scorned by a villaine ribaulde. Cle. I pray thee tell me then. Du. I will tell you so that you will sweare never to tell it to Pasiphilo, to my maister, nor to any other bodie. 90 Ca. [aside~\ . Surely it is some toye devised to get some money of him. Cle. I thinke I have a booke here. Ca. \_aside~\. If he knew him as well as I, he woulde never goe aboute it, for he may as soone 95 get one of his teeth from his jawes with a paire 77 °"- Q3> upon. Scene im.] ^UppOfii00 43 of pinchers, as a pennie out of his purse with such a conceite. Cle. Here is a letter wil serve the turne : I sweare to thee by the contents hereof never to loo disclose it to any man. Du. I will tell you ; I am sorie to see how Pasiphilo doth abuse you, perswading you that alwayes he laboureth for you, where in deede he lieth on my maister continually, as it were 105 with tooth and naile, for a straunger, a scholer, borne in Sicilia : they call him Roscus or ars- kisse, he hathe a madde name, I can never hit upon it. Cle. And thou recknest it as madly : is it not no Erostrato ? Du. That same; I should never have remem- bred it. And the villany speaketh al the evill of you that can be devised. Cle. To whom ? 115 Du. To my maister; yea, and to Polynesta hirselfe sometimes. Cle. Is it possible ? Ah slave, and what saith he? Du. More evill than I can imagine: that 120 you are the miserablest and most nigardly man that ever was. Cle. Sayeth Pasiphilo so by me .? 113 'villany. Qi, Q3, villaine. 44 ^upposfeflf [Act n. Du. And that as often as he commeth to your house, he is like to die for hunger, you 125 fare so well. Cle. That the devill take him else. Du. And that you are the testiest man, and moste divers to please in the whole worlde, so that he cannot please you, unlesse he should 130 even kill himselfe with continuall paine. Cle, O devilish tong ! Du. Furthermore, that you cough continually and spit, so that a dogge cannot abide it. Cle. I never spitte nor coughe more than 135 thus, vho ! vho ! and that but since I caughte this murre ; but who is free from it ? Du. You say true, sir ; yet further he sayth, your arme holes stincke, your feete worse than they, and your breathe worst of all. 140 Cle. If I quite him not for this geare ! Du. And that you are bursten in the cods. Cle. O villaine ! he lieth, and if I were not in the streete, thou shouldest see them. Du. And he saith, that you desire this yongi45 gentlewoman as much for other mens pleasure as for your owne. Cle. What meaneth he by that ? Du. Peradventure that by hir beautie you woulde entice many yong men to your house. 150 142 hunten. gi, bursen. Scene HH.] g)UppOfifr0 45 Cle. Yong men ? to what purpose ? Du. Nay, gesse you that. Cle. Is it possible that Pasiphilo speaketh thus of me ? Du. Yea, and much more. 155 Cle. And doth Damon beleeve him ? Du. Yea, more than you would thinke : in such sort, that long ere this he woulde have given you a flat repulse, but Pasiphilo intreated him to continue you a suter for his advantage. 160 Cle. How for his advantage ? Du. Marie, that during your sute he might still have some rewarde for his great paines. Cle. He shall have a rope, and yet that is more than he deserveth : I had thought to have 165 given him these hose when I had worne them a litle nearer, but he shall have a. &c. Du. In good faith, sir, they were but loste on him. Will you any thing else with me, sir. 170 Cle. Nay, I have heard to much of thee already. Du. Then I will take my leave of you. Cle. Farewell, but tell m.e, may I not know thy name ? iy5 Du. Sir, they call me Foule fall you. Cle. An ill favored name, by my trouthe : arte thou this countrey man ? 46 g)UppO6^e0 [Act II. Du. No, sir, I was borne by a castle men cal Scabbe catch you : fare you well, sir. i8o \_Exit Dulipo.'] Cle. Farewel. Oh God, how have I bene abused ! what a spokesman, what a messanger had I provided ! Car, Why, sir, will you tarie for Pasiphilo till we die for hunger? 185 Cle. Trouble me not; that the devill take you both ! Car. These newes, what so ever they be, like him not. Cle. Art thou so hungrie yet ? I pray to God 190 thou be never satisfied. Car. By the masse, no more I shal, as long as I am your servaunt. Cle. Goe with mischaunce ! Car. Yea, and a mischiefe to you, and to al 195 such covetous wretches. 194 luith. Q3, with a. Finis Actus 2. Actus iii. Scena i. DaiiOy the cooke. Crapine, the lackie. \Later\ ErostratOy Dulipo. [Z)^//(7.] By that time we come to the house, I truste that of these xx egges in the basket we shall find but very few whole. But it is a folly to talke to him. What the devill, wilt thou never lay that sticke out of thy hande ? He fighteth with 5 the dogges, beateth the beares, at every thing in the streate he findeth occasion to tarie : if he spie a slipstring by the waye, such another as himself, a page, a lackie or a dwarfe, the devill of hell cannot holde him in chaynes, but he will 10 be doing with him ; I cannot goe two steppes, but I muste looke backe for my yonker : goe to, halter-sicke, if you breake one egge I may chance breake, &c. Crapino. What will you breake ? your nose in 15 mine &c. ? Da. Ah beast ! Cra. If I be a beast, yet I am no horned beast. Da. Is it even so ? is the winde in that doore ? If I were unloden I would tel you whether I be 20 a horned beast or no. 16 Sff. Qi, arse. 48 §)UppO0r0 [Act III. Cra. You are alway laden either with wine or with ale. Da, Ah spitefuU boy, shall I suffer him ? [^Beats him.~\ Cra. Ah cowardely beast, darest thou strike 25 and say never a woorde ? Da. Well, my maister shall know of this geere ; either he shall redresse it, or he shall lose one of us. Cra. Tel him the worst thou canst Erostra\to'] by me. and Du\_lipo'\ Ero. What noise, what a rule is ^^ ^^P'o-vho. , this ? f Cra. Marie, sir, he striketh mee, bicause I tell him of his swearing. 35 Da. The villaine lieth deadly ; he reviles me, bicause I bid him make hast. Ero. Holla ! no more of this. Dalio, doe you make in a readinesse those pigeons, stock doves, and also the breast of veale : and let your vessell 40 be as cleare as glasse against I returne, that I may tell you which I will have roasted, and which boyled. Crapine, lay downe that basket and followe me. Oh, that I coulde tell where to finde Pasiphilo ! but looke where he commeth 45 that can tell me of him. Erostrato . . . improviso. Qi has this side-note. Scene I.] ^UPPO0e0 49 Du, What have you done with Philo- ^^^. .^ gano your father ? espied by Ero. I have left him within. I would Erourato. faine speake with Pasiphilo ; can you tell me 50 where he is ? Du. He dined this day with my maister, but whether he went from thence I know not : what would you with him ? Ero. I woulde have him goe tell Damon that 55 Philogano my father is come and ready to make assurance of as much as he wil require. Now shall I teach Maister Doctor a schole point; he travaileth to none other end but to catche Cornua, and he shall have them, for as old as 60 he is, and as many subtilties as he hath learned in the law, he can not goe beyond me one ace. Du. O deere friend, goe thy wayes, seeke Pasiphilo, finde him out and conclude somewhat to our contentation. 65 Ero. But where shall I find him ? Du. At the feasts, if there be any, or else in the market with the poulters or the fishmongers. Ero. What should he doe with them ? Du. Mary, he watcheth whose caters bie the 70 best meat. If any bie a fat capon, a good breast of veale, fresh samon, or any suche good dishe, he followeth to the house, and either with some Dulipo . . . Erostrato. Qi has this side-note. 50 ^UPpOSff [Act m. newes or some stale jest he will be sure to make himselfe a geast. 75 Ero. In faith, and I will seeke there for him. Du. Then muste you needes finde him, and when you have done, I will make you laughe. Ero, Whereat ? Du, At certaine sport I made to day with go Master Doctor. Ero. And why not now ? Du. No, it asketh further leysure ; I pray thee dispatche, and finde out Pasiphilo that honest man. Dulipo tarieth. Erostrato goeth out. 85 SCENA ii. Dulipo alone, ^Dulipo^ This amorous cause that hangeth in controversie betwene Domine Doctor and me, may be compared to them that play at primero : of whom some one peradventure shal leese a great sum of money before he win one stake, 5 and at last halfe in anger shal set up his rest : win it : and after that another, another, and another, till at last he draw the most part of the money to his heape, the other by litle and litle stil diminishing his rest, til at last he be come as 10 neere the brinke, as earst the other was : yet "J ^ geast. Q 3, guest. ^ some. Q 3 omits. Scene ni] ^UppO$t& 5 1 again peradventure fortune smiling on him, he shal, as it were by peece meale, pull out the guts of his fellows bags, and bring him barer than he himselfe was tofore, and so in play continue stil, 15 (fortune favoring now this way, now that way) til at last the one of them is left with as many crosses as God hath brethren. O howe often have I thoughte my selfe sure of the upper hande herein ! but I triumphed before the victorie. 20 And then how ofte againe have I thoughte the iielde loste ! Thus have I beene tossed nowe over, nowe under, even as fortune list to whirle the wheele, neither sure to winne nor certayne to loose the wager. And this practise that nowe 25 my servaunte hath devised, although hitherto it hath not succeeded amisse, yet can I not count my selfe assured of it : for I feare still that one mischance or other wyll come and turne it topsie turvie. But looke where my master commeth. 30 Damon comming in espieth Dulipo, and call- eth him. ScENA iii. Damony Dulipo. [^Later] Nevo/a, andtzuo mo servants. ^Damon^ Dulipo ! Dulipo. Here, sir. Da. Go in and bid Nevola and his fellowes 52 g>UJPPO0e0 [Act in. come hither that I may tell them what they shall goe about, and go you into my studie : there 5 upon the shelfe you shall find a roule of writings which John of the Deane made to my father when he solde him the Grange ferme, endorced with bothe their names : bring it hither to me. Du. It shall be done, sir. \_Dulipo exit.'\ 10 Da. Go, I wil prepare other maner of writ- ings for you than you are aware of. O fooles, that trust any man but themselves now adaies : oh spiteful fortune, thou doest me wrong, I thinke, that from the depth of hell pitte thou 15 haste sente mee this servaunt to be the subver- sion of me and all mine. Come hither, rj,^^ ^^^_ sirs, and heare what I shal say unto you : vants go into my studie, where you shall finde ^°"^^ ^"* Dulipo, step to him all at once, take him and 20 (with a corde that I have laide on the table for the nonce) bind him hande and foote, carie him into the dungeon under the stayres, make faste the dore and bring me the key ; it hangeth by upon a pin on the wall. Dispatche, and doe this geare as privily as you can : and thou, Nevola, come hither to me againe with speede. Nevola. Well, I shall. \_The servants go out.'] Da. Alas, how shall I be revenged of this extreme despite ? If I punishe my servant ac- cording to his divelishe deserts, I shall heape 28 fVelL Qi, Well, sir. Scene HI.] g>UppO0efil 53 further Cc res upon mine owne head : for to suche detestable offences no punishment can seeme sufficie. t, but onely death, and in such cases it is not lav'^ful for a man to be his owne 35 carver. The lawes' are ordeyned, and officers appoynted to minister justice for the redresse of wrongs : and if to the potestates I complayne me, I shall publishe mine owne reproche to the worlde. Yea, what should it prevayle me to use 4° all the punishments that can be devised ? the thing once done can not be undone. My daugh- ter is defloured, and I utterly dishonested : how can I then wype that blot off my browe ? and on whome shall I seeke revenge ? Alas, alas, I my 45 selfe have bene the cause of all these cares, and have deserved to beare the punishment of all these mishappes. Alas, I should not have com- mitted my dearest darling in custodie to so care- lesse a creature as this olde Nurse : for we see 5° by common proofe that these olde women be either peevishe or pitifull : either easily enclined to evill, or quickly corrupted with bribes and rewards. O wife, my good wife (that nowe lyest colde in the grave), now may I well bewayle the 55 wante of thee, and mourning nowe may I bemone that I misse thee ! if thou hadst liven (suche 43 / utterly. Qi omits I. ^x pitifull. Qi, to pitifull. 54 g>appOS(t0 [Act III. was thy governement of the least things) that thou wouldest prudently have pro', ided for the preservation of this pearle. A co dy jewell may 60 I well accompte hir, that hath been my cheefe comforte in youth, and is no /e become the coro- sive of mine age. O Poiynesta, full evill hast thou requited the clemencie of thy carefull fa- ther : and yet to excuse thee giltlesse before 65 God, and to condemne thee giltie before the worlde, I can count none other but my wretched selfe the caytife and causer of all my cares. For of al the dueties that are requisite in humane lyfe, onely obedience is by the parents to be re- 70 quired of the childe : where on the other side the parents are bound first to beget them, then to bring them foorth, after to nourish them, to preserve them from bodily perils in the cradle, from daunger of soule by godly education, to 75 matche them in consorte enclined to vertue, too banish them all ydle and wanton companie, to allow them sufficiente for their sustentation, to cut ofF excesse the open gate of sinne, seldome or never to smile on them unlesse it be to their 80 encouragement in vertue, and finally, to provide them mariages in time convenient, lest (neg- lected of us) they learne to sette either to much or to litle by themselves. Five yeares are past 79 cut. Q3, cull. Scene HH.] ^UppO0e0 55 since I might have maried hir, when by con- 85 tinuall excuses I have prolonged it to my owne perdition. Alas, I shoulde have considered she is a collop of my owne flesh : what shold I think to make hir a princesse ? Alas, alas, a poore kingdome have I now caught to endowe hir 90 with. It is too true that of all sorowes this is the head source and chiefe fountaine of all furies. The goods of the world are incertain, the gaines to be rejoyced at, and the losse not greatly to be lamented : only the children cast away, cutteth 95 the parents throate with the knife of inward care, which knife will kill me surely, I make none other accompte. Damons servants come to him againe. ScENA iiii. Nevola, Damon. [Later~\ Pasiphilo. \_Nevola.'\ Sir, we have done as you badde us, and here is the key. Damon. Well, go then, Nevola, and seeke master Casteling the jayler ; he dwelleth by S. Antonies gate ; desire him too lend me a paire 5 of the fetters he useth for his prisoners, and come againe quickly. A^^. Well, sir. Da. Heare you, if he aske what I would do 56 g)UppO0efll [Act III. with them, say you can not tell, and tell neither lo him nor any other what is become of Dulipo. Damon goeth out. \Ne.'\ I warant you, sir. Fye upon the devill, it is a thing almost unpossible for a man An other nowe a dayes to handle money, but the suppose. mettal will sticke on his fingers: I marvelled 15 alway at this fellowe of mine, Dulipo, that of the wages he received he could maintaine him- selfe so bravely apparelled, but nowe I perceive the cause ; he had the disbursing and receit of all my masters affaires, the keys of the granair : 20 Dulippo here, Dulippo there, [in] favoure with my maister, in favoure with his daughter; what woulde you more \ he was magister factotum : he was as fine as the crusadoe, and wee silly wretches as course as canvas ; wel, behold what 25 it is come to in the ende ; he had bin p^^- ^^^^-^v better to have done lesse. & impro-viso Pasiphilo. Thou saist true, Nevola, '^'''"''• he hath done to much in deed. Ne, From whence commest thou, in the devils 30 name ? Pa. Out of the same house thou earnest from, but not out of the same dore ? Ne. We had thought thou hadst bene gone long since. 35 Damon goeth out. Omitted in Qi. 21 f«, Ql, Q3. Q2 omits. Past. . . . 'venit. Qi has this side-note. Scene nn.] ^XippO&tS 57 Pa. When I arose from the table, I felte a rumbling in my belly, whiche made me runne to the stable, and there I fell on sleepe uppon the strawe, and have line there ever since. And thou, whether goest thou ? 40 Ne. My master hath sent me on an errand in great hast. Pa. Whether, I pray thee ? Ne. Nay, I may not tell. Farewell. Pa. As though I neede any further instruc- 45 tions ! O God, what newes I heard even now as I lay in the stable. O good Erostrato and pore Cleander, that have so earnestly stroven An other for this damsel, happie is he that can get suppose. hir, I promise you. He shall be sure of mo than 50 one at a clap that catcheth hir, eyther Adam or Eve within hir belie. O God, how men may be deceived in a woman ! Who wold have beleeved the contrary but that she had bin a virgin ? Aske the neighbours, and you shall heare very good 55 report of hir : marke hir behaviors, and you would have judged hir very maydenly ; seldome seene abroade but in place of prayer, and there very devout, and no gaser at outwarde sightes, no blaser of hir beautie above in the windowes, 60 no stale at the doore for the bypassers : you 61 sta/e. Qi, stal. 58 ^uppoflfesf [AcTin. would have thought hir a holy yong woman. But muche good doe it. Domine Doctor, hee shall be sure to lacke no corne in a deare yere, whatsoever he have with hir else : I beshrewe me if I let the mariage any way. But is not this the old scabbed queane that I heard disclosing all this geere to hir master as I stoode in the stable ere nowe ? it is shee. Whither goeth Psiteria .? Pasiphilo espieth Psiteria comming. ScENA v. Psiteriay Pasiphilo. ^Psiteria.'j To a gossip of myne heereby. Pasiphilo. What ? to tattle of the goodly stirre that thou keptst concerning Polynesta. Ps. No, no : but how knew you of that geere? Pa. You tolde me. Ps. I ? when did I tell you ? Pa. Even now, when you tolde it to Damon ; I both sawe you and heard you, though you saw not me. A good parte, I promise you, to accuse the poore wenche, kill the olde man with care, over and besides the daunger you have brought Dulipo and the Nursse unto, and many moe ; fie, fie ! 63 doe it. Qi adds you. 64 Corne, in capitals, Q2, Q3, but not in Qi. Scene v.] ^ g)lippO0e0 59 Ps. In deed I was to blame, but not so much as you think. 15 Pa. And how not so muche ? did I not heare you tell ? Ps. Yes. But I will tell you how it came to passe. I have knowen for a great while that this Dulipo and Polynesta have lyen togither, and all 20 by the meanes of the Nurse : yet 1 held my peace, and never tolde it. Now this other day the Nursse fell on scolding with me, and twyce or thryce called me drunken olde whore, and suche names that it was too badde : and I called 25 hir baude, and tolde hir that I knew well enoughe howe often she had brought Dulipo to Polynestas bed : yet all this while I thought not that anye body had heard me, but it befell cleane con- trarye ; for my maister was on the other side of 30 the wall, and heard all our talke, whereupon he sent for me, and forced me to confesse all that you heard. Pa. And why wouldest thou tell him ? I woulde not for. &c. 35 Ps. Well, if I had thought my maister would have taken it so, he should rather have killed me. Pa. Why ? how could he take it ? Ps. Alas, it pitieth me to see the poore yong 40 woman how she weepes, wailes, and teares hir 6o ^uppo0r0 * [Acrm. heare : not esteming hir owne life halfe so deare as she doth poore Dulipos; and hir father, he weepes on the other side, that it would pearce an hart of stone with pitie : but I must be gone. 45 \_Psiteria exit.~\ Pa. Go, that the gunne pouder consume thee, olde trotte ! Finis Actus 3. Actus iiii. Scena i. Erostrato fained. \_Erostraio.'] What shall I doe ? Alas, what remedie shall I iinde for my ruefull estate ? what escape, or what excuse may I now devise to shifte over our subtile supposes ? for though to this day I have usurped the name of my maister, 5 and that without checke or controll of any man, now shal I be openly discyphred, and that in the sight of every man : now shal it openly be knowen, whether I be Erostrato the gentleman, or Dulipo the servaunt. We have hitherto played 10 our parts in abusing others : but nowe commeth the man that wil not be abused, the right Philo- gano, the right father of the right Erostrato : going to seke Pasiphilo, and hearing that he was at the water gate, beholde I espied my fellowe 15 Litio, and by and by my olde maister Philogano setting forth his first step on land : I to fuge and away hither as fast as I could to bring word to the right Erostrato of his right ^ her Philo- gano, that to so sodaine a mishap some subtile 20 shift might be upon the sodaine devised. But what can be imagined to serve the turne, al- 15 fellotue. Qi has ser%iaur:t in the text ind /elloive in the " Faultes escaped correction." 62 ^UPPO&ti [Act IIII. though we had [a] monethes respite to beate oure braines about it, since we are commonly knowen, at the least supposed in this towne, he : for Dulipo, a slave and servant to Damon, and I for Erostrato a gentleman an a student ? But beholde ! runne, Crapine, to yonder olde woman before she get within the doores, and desire hir to call out Dulipo : but, heare you? if she aske who would speake with him, saye thy selfe and none other. Erostrato espieth Psiteria comming^ and sendeth his lackey to hir. SCENA ii. Crapine t Psiteria^ Erostrato fained. \Crapino^ Honest woman, you gossip, thou rotten whore, hearest thou not, olde witche ? Psiteria. A rope stretche your yong bones : either you muste live to be as old as I, or be hanged while you are yong. Cra. I pray thee, loke if Dulipo be within. Ps. Yes, that he is, I warrant him. Cra, Desire him, then, to come hither and speake a word with me ; he shall not tarie. Ps. Content your selfe, he is otherwise oc- lo" cupied. Cra. Yet, tell him so, gentle girle. 23 ^, Qi- Q2, Q3 omit. Scene III.] ^UppO0e0 63 Ps. I tell you he is busie. Cra. Why, is it such a matter to tell him so, thou crooked crone ? 15 Ps. A rope stretche you, marie. Cra. A pockes eate you, marie. Ps. Thou wilt be hanged, I warant thee, if thou live to it. Cra. And thou wilt be burnt, I warant thee, 20 if the canker consume thee not. Ps. If I come neere you, hempstring, I will teache you to sing sol fa. Cra. Come on j and if I get a stone I will scare crowes with you. 25 Ps. Goe with a mischiefe ; I thinke thou be some devill that woulde tempte me. Era. Crapine : heare you ? come away, let hir goe with a vengeance ! why come you not ? Alas, loke where my maister Philogano commeth : 30 what shall I doe ? where shall I hide me ? he shall not see me in these clothes, nor before I have spoken with the right Erostrato. Erostrato espyeth Phylogano commirig, and runneth about to hide him. ScENA iii. Philogano. Ferrarese, the Inne keper. Litio, a servant. \_Philogano.'\ Honest man, it is even so : be you sure there is no love to be compared like the 64 §)UppO0e0 [Act im. love of the parents towards their children. It is not long since I thought that a very waightie matter shoulde not have made me come out of 5 Sicilia, and yet now I have taken this tedious toyle and travaile upon me only to see my sonne, and to have him home with me. Fer. By my faith, sir, it hath ben a great travaile in dede, and to much for one of your 10 age. Phi. Yea, be you sure : I came in companie with certaine gentlemen of my countrey, who had affaires to dispatche as far as to Ancona, from thence by water too Ravenna, and from Ravenna 15 hither, continually against the tide. Fer. Yea, and I think that you had but homly lodging by the way. Phi. The worst that ever man had : but that was nothing to the stirre that the serchers kept 10= with me when I came aborde the ship. Jesus ! how often they untrussed my male, and ransaked a litle capcase that I had, tossed and turned al that was within it, serched my bosome, yea, my breeches, that I assure you I thought they 25 would have flayed me, to searche betwene the fell and the fleshe for fardings. Fer. Sure I have heard no lesse, and that the marchants bobbe them somtimes ; but they play the knaves still. 30 Scene IH.] g)UppO0e0 65 Phi. Yea, be you well assured, suche an office is the inheritance of a knave, and an honest man will not meddle with it. Per. Wei, this passage shal seme pleasant unto you, when you shall finde your childe 35 in health and well : but I praye you, sir, why did you not rather send for him into Sicilia, than to come your selfe, specially since you had none other businesse ? peradventure you had rather endanger your selfe by this noysome jour- 40 ney than hazard to drawe him from his studie. Phi. Nay, that was not the matter, for I had rather have him give over his studie altogither and come home. Per. Why ? if you minded not to make him 45 learned, to Vvhat ende did you send him hither at the first ? Phi. I will tell you : when he was at home he did as most yong men doe, he played many mad prankes and did many things that liked me 50 not very well : and I thinking that by that time he had sene the worlde, he would learne to know himselfe better, exhorted him to studie, and put in his election what place he would go to. At the last he came hither, and I thinke he 55 was scarce here so sone as I felt the want of 31 suche. Q I, for suche. 36 in health and ivell. Q3, well and in health. 66 ^UJPPOS|00 [Act im. him, in suche sorte as from that day to this I have passed fewe nightes without teares. I have written to him very often that he shoulde come home, but continually he refused stil, be- 60 seching me to continue his studie, wherein he doubted not (as he said) but to profite greatly. Fer. In dede he is very much commended of al men, and specially of the best reputed stu- dentes. 65 Phi. I am glad he hath not lost his time, but I care not greatly for so muche knowledge. I would not be without the sighte of hym againe so long for all the learning in the worlde. I am olde nowe, and if God shoulde call mee in his 70 absence, I promise you I thinke it woulde drive me into disperation. Fer. It is commendable in a man to love his children, but to be so tender over them is more womanlike. 75 Phi. Well, I confesse it is my faulte : and yet I will tell you another cause of my com- ming hither more waightie than this. Divers of my countrey have bene here since hee came hither, by whome I have sente unto him ; and 80 some of them have bene thrice, some foure or five times at his house, and yet could never speake with him. I feare he applies his studie 60 refused stil. Q3 puts the comma before stil. Scene mi.] ^UppO0fSf 67 SO that he will not leese the minute of an houre from his booke. What ! alas ! he might yet 85 talke with his countrymen for a while : he is a yong man, tenderly brought up, and if he fare thus continually night and day at his booke, it may be enough to driv^e him into a frenesie. Fer. In dede, enough were as good as a feast. 90 Loe you, sir, here is your sonne Erostratoes house. I will knocke. Phi. Yea, I pray you knocke. \_He knocks.'] Fer. They heare not. Phi. Knocke againe. {More knocking.] 95 Fer. I thinke they be on slepe. Litio. If this gate were your grandefathers soule, you coulde not knocke more softly ; let me come : ho ! ho ! is there any body within ? Dalio commeth to the zuyndowey and there maketh them answers. ScENA iiii. Dalio, the cooke. Ferarese, the inholder. Philogano. LitiOy his man. \palio.'\ What devill of hell is there ? I thinke hee will breake the gates in peeces. Litio. Marie, sir, we had thoughte you had beene on sleepe within, and therefore we thought best to wake you. What doth Erostrato ? $ 68 ^IXppO&tfii [Act im. Da. He is not within. Philogano, Open the dore, good fellow, I pray thee. Da. If you thinke to lodge here, you are de- ceived, I tell you, for here are guestes enowe lo already. Phi. A good fellow, and much for thy maister honesty, by our Ladie ! and what guestes, I pray thee ? Da. Here is Philogano, my maisters An other father, lately come out of Sicilia. suppose. Phi. Thou speakest truer than thou arte aware of; he will be, by that time thou hast opened the dore. Open, I pray thee hartily. Da. It is a small matter for me to open the 20 dore, but here is no lodging for you ; I tell you plaine, the house is full. Phi. Of whome ? Da. I tolde you : here is Philogano, my mais- ters father, come from Cathanea. 25 Phi. And when came he ? Da. He came three houres since, or more ; he alighted at the Aungell, and left his horses there : afterwarde my maister brought him hither. Phi. Good fellow, I thinke thou hast good 30 sport to mocke mee. Da. Nay, I thinke you have good sporet to 32 sporet. Qi, sporte. Q3, sport. Scene mi.] g)UppO0e0 69 make me tary here, as though I have nothing else to doe : I am matched with an unrulye mate in the kitchin. I will goe looke to him 35 another while. Phi. I thinke he be drunken. Ferarese. Sure he semes so : see you not how redde he is about the gilles ? Phi. Abide, fellow ! what Philogano is it 40 whome thou talkest of? Da. An honest gentleman, father to Erostrato, my maister. Phi. And where is he ? Da. Here within. 45 Phi. May we see him ? Da. I thinke you may, if you be not blind. Phi. Go to ! go tel him here is one wold speake with him. Da. Mary, that I will willingly doe. 50 Phi. I can not tell what I shoulde say to this geere, Litio. What thinkest thou of it ? Li. I cannot tell you what I shoulde say, sir ; the worlde is large and long; there maye be An other moe Philoganos and moe Erostratos than suppose, one ; yea, and moe Ferraras, moe Sicilias, and moe Cathaneas : peradventure this is not that Ferrara whiche you sent your sonne unto. Phi. Peradventure thou arte a foole, and he was another that answered us even now. But 60 70 §)UppO0e0 [Act im. be you sure, honest man, that you mistake not the house ? Fer, Nay, then, God helpe ! thinke you I knowe not Erostratos house ? yes, and himselfe also. I sawe him here no longer since than yesterday. But here commes one that wil tell us tydings of him : I like his countenaunce bet- ter than the [other] that answered at the win- dowe erewhile. Dalio draweth his bed in at the wjndowe • the Scenese commeth out. SCENA V. Scenese^ Philogano, Dalio. ^Ferarese. Litio. ] [^Scenese.'j Would you speake with me sir ? Philogano. Yea, sir, I would faine knowe whence you are. See. Sir, I am a Sicilian, at your commaunde- ment. Phi. What part of Sicilia ? See. Of Cathanea. Phi. What shall I call your name ? See. My name is Philogano. Phi. What trade doe you occupie ? See. Marchandise. 68 other. Qq, others. at. Q3, us at. Scene v.] g)UJjpO0e0 7 1 Phi. What marchandise brought you hither ? See. None, I came onely to see a sonne that I have here whom I sawe not these two yeares. Phi. What call they your sonne ? 15 See. Erostrato. Phi. Is Erostrato your sonne ? See. Yea, verily. Phi. And are you Philogano? See. The same. 20 Phi. And a marchant of Cathanea ? See. What, neede I tell you so often ? I will not tell you a lye. Phi. Yes, you have told me a false lie ; and thou arte a vilaine, and no better ! 25 See. Sir, you offer me great wrong with these injurious wordes. Phi. Nay, I will doe more than I have yet proffered to doe, for I will prove thee a Iyer, and a knave to take upon thee that thou art 30 not. See. Sir, I am Philogano of Cathanea, Astoute out of all doubte ; if I were not, I would suppose. be loth to tell you so. Phi. Oh, see the boldnesse of this brute beast ! 35 what a brazen face he setteth on it ! See. Well, you may beleve me if you liste : what wonder you ? Phi. I wonder at thy impudencie ; for thou, 72 g^UppOfifeflf [Act IIII. nor nature that framed thee, can ever counter- 40 faite thee to be me, ribauld villaine and lying wretch that thou arte ! Dalio. Shall I suffer a knave to abuse a pleasant my maisters father thus ? hence, villaine, suppose. hence! or I will sheath this good fawchion in 45 your paunch ! if my maister Erostrato find you prating here on this fashion to his father, I wold not be in your coate for mo conney skins than I gat these twelve monethes. Come you in againe, sir, and let this curre barke here till 50 he burst. Dalio pullet h the Scenese in at the dores. SCENA Vi. PhiloganOy Litio, Ferarese. ^Phllogano.~\ Litio, how likest thou this geere ? Litio. Sir, I like it as evill as may be : but have you not often heard tell of the falsehood of Ferara ? and now may you see, it falleth out accordingly. 5 Ferarese, Friend, you do not well to slaunder the citie ; these men are no Ferrareses : you may know by their tong. Li. Well, there is never a barrell better her- ring beetwene you both : but in deed your of- 10 ficers are most to blame that suffer such faultes to escape unpunished. Scene VI.] ^U}jpO0^0 73 Fer. What knowe the officers of this ? thinke you they know of every fault ? Li. Nay, I thinke they will knowe as little as 15 may bee, specially when they have no gaines by it ; but they ought to have their eares as open to heare of such offences as the in-gates be to receive guests. Phi. Holde thy peace, foole ! 20 Li. By the masse ! I am afearde that we shall be proved fooles both two. Phi, Well, what shall we doe ? Li. I would thinke best we should go seeke Erostrato him selfe. 25 Fer. I will waite upon you willingly, and either at the schooles or at the convocations we shall find him. Phi. By our Lady ! I am wery : I will run no longer about to seke him 5 I am sure hither 30 he will come at the last. Li. Sure, my mind gives me that we a true shall find a new Erostrato, ere it be long, suppose. Fer. Looke where he is ! whether runnes he ? stay you awhile; I will goe tell him that you are 35 here. Erostrato ! Erostrato ! ho, Erostrato ! I would speake with you. Erostrato is espied uppon the stage running about. 74 ^uppo0e0 [Act nn. ScENA vii. Faintd ErostratOy FeraresCy PhiloganOy Litio. \Later\ Dalio. l^Erostrato^ aside."^ Nowe can I bide me no longer. Alas ! what shall I doe ? I will set a good face on, to beare out the matter. Ferarese. O Erostrato, Philogano your father is come out of Sicilia. 5 Ero. Tell me that I knowe not j I have bene with him and scene him alredy. Per. Is it possible ? and it seemeth by him that you know not of his comming. Ero. Why, have you spoken with him ? when 10 saw you him, I pray you ? Fer. Loke you where he standes ; why go you not too him ? Looke you, Philogano, be- holde your deare son Erostrato. Philogano. Erostrato ? thys is not Erostrato : 15 thys seemeth rather to beDulipo,and it is Dul- ipo in deede. Litio. Why, doubte you of that ? Ero. What saith this honest man ? Phi. Mary, sir, in deede you are so honorably 20 cladde, it is no marvell if you loke bigge. Ero. To whome speaketh he ? Phi. What, God helpe ! do you not know me ? Scene VII.] ©UppO^efif 75 Ero. As farre as I remember, sir, I never sawe you before. 25 Phi. Harke, Litio, here is good geere ! this honest man will not know me. ^ shame- Ero. Gentleman, you take your markes lesse sup- amisse. P°^^- Li. Did I not tell you of the falsehood of 30 Ferrara, master ? Dulipo hath learned to play the knave indifferently well since he came hither. Phi. Peace, I say. Ero. Friend, my name is not Dulipo, aske 35 you thorough out this towne of great and small, they know me : aske this honest man that is with you, if you wyll not beleeve me. Per. In deede, I never knewe him otherwise called than Erostrato ; and so they call him, as 40 many as knowe him. Li. Master, nowe you may see the falsehood of these fellowes ; this honest man, your hoste, is of counsaile with him, and would face a neediesse us down that it is Erostrato : beware of suppose. these mates. Per. Friende, thou doest me wrong to sus- pect me, for sure I never hearde hym otherwise called than Erostrato. Ero. What name could you heare me called 50 by, but by my right name } But I am wise 76 ^UppO0efll [Act im. enough to stand prating here with this old man ; I thinke he be mad. Phi. Ah, runnagate! ah, villaine traitour ! doest thou use thy master thus ? what hast thou 55 done with my son, villain ? \_Dalio and other servants come out of Erostrato* s house y threatening Philogano with stones y ^r.] Dalio. Doth this dogge barke here still ? and will you suffer him, master, thus to revile you ? Ero. Come in, come in ; what wilt thou do 60 with this pestil ? Da. I will rap the olde cackabed on the costerd. Ero. Away with it ! and you, sirra, lay downe these stones ! come in at dore every one of you, 65 beare with him for his age j I passe not of his evill wordes. Erostrato taketh all his servantes in at the dores. ScENA viii. Philogano, Ferarese, Litio. \_PhiIogano.'] Alas, who shall relieve my miser- able estate ? to whome shall I complaine, since he whome I brought up of a childe, yea, and cherished him as if he had bene mine owne, doth nowe utterly denie to knowe me ? and 5 Scene Vm.] ^UppOSf00 77 you, whome I toke for an honest man, and he that should have broughte me to the sighte of my Sonne, are compacte with this false wretch, and woulde face me downe that he is An other Erostrato ! Alas ! you might have some suppose. compassion of mine age, to the miserie I am now in, and that I am a stranger desolate of all comforte in this countrey : or, at the least, you shoulde have feared the vengeaunce of God the supreme judge (whiche knoweth the secrets 15 of all harts), in bearing this false witnesse with him, whome heaven and earth doe knowe to be Dulipo and not Erostrato. Litio. If there be many such witnesses in this countrey, men may go about to prove what they 20 wil in controversies here. Ferrarese. Well, sir, you may judge of me as it pleaseth you : and how the matter commeth to passe I know not ; but truly, ever since he came first hither, I have knowen him by the 25 name of Erostrato the sonne of Philogano, a Cathanese : nowe whether he be so in deede, or whether he be Dulipo (as you alledge) let that be proved by them that knewe him before he came hether. But I protest before God, that 3° whiche I have said is neither a matter compact with him nor any other, but even as I have hard him called and reputed of al men. 7 8 ^uppo0f0 [AcTim. Phi» Out and alas ! he whom I sent a shrewde hither with my son to be his servaunt, suppose. and to give attendance on him, hath eyther cut his throate, or by some evill meanes made him away, and hath not onely taken his garmentes, his bookes, his money, and that whiche he brought out of Sicilia with him, but usurpeth 40 his name also, and turneth to his owne com- moditie the bills of exchaunge that I have al- wayes allowed for my sonnes expences. Oh miserable Philogano ! oh unhappie old man ! Oh eternall God ! is there no judge, no officer, 45 no higher powers whom I may complaine unto for redresse of these wrongs ? Per. Yes, sir, we have potestates, we have judges, and, above al, we have- a most juste prince: doubt you not but you shall have jus- 50 tice, if your cause be just. Phi. Bring me then to the judges, to the potestates, or to whome you thinke best : for I will disclose a packe of the greatest knaverie, a fardell of the fowlest falsehoode, that ever was 55 heard of. Li. Sir, he that wil goe to the lawe must be sure of foure things : first, a right and a just cause ; then a righteous advocate to pleade j 57 laive. Qi, civill lawe. 59 ad-vocate. Qi, doctor. Scene Vm.] ^lip}JO0e0 79 nexte, favour coram judice; and, above all, a 60 good purse to procure it. Fer. I have not heard that the law hath any respect to favour : what you meane by it I can- not tell. Phi. Have you no regard to his wordes : he 65 is but a foole. Fer. I pray you, sir, let him tell me what is favour. Li. Favour cal I, to have a friend neere about the judge, who may so sollicite thy cause as, if 70 it be right, speedie sentence may ensue without any delayes : if it be not good, then to prolong it till at the last thine adversarie, being wearie, shal be glad to compound with thee. Fer. Of thus much (although I never heard 75 thus muche in this countrey before) doubt you not, Philogano ; I will bring you to an advocate that shall speede you accordingly. Phi. Then shall I give my selfe, as it were, a pray to the lawyers, whose insatiable jawes I 80 am not able to feede, although I had here all the goods and landes which I possesse in mine own countrey, much lesse being a straunger in this miserie. I know their cautels of old : at the first time I come they wil so extoU my cause, as 85 though it were already won ; but within a seven- night or ten dales, if I do not continually feede 80 &UPJpO0e0 [Act nil. them, as the crow doth hir brattes, twentie times in an houre, they will begin to waxe colde, and to finde cavils in my cause, saying that at the 90 firste I did not well instructe them ; till at the last they will not onely drawe the stuffing out of my purse, but the marrow out of my bones. Fer. Yea, sir, but this man that I tell you of is halfe a saincte. 95 Li. And the other halfe a devill, I hold a pennie. Phi, Well sayd, Litio ! in deede I have but smal confidence in their smothe lookes. Fer, Well, sir, I thinke this whome I meane is no such manner of man ; but if he were, there is such hatred and evil wil betweene An other him and this gentleman (whether he be suppose. Erostrato or Dulipo, what so ever he be), that I warrant you, he will doe whatsoever he can 105 do for you, were it but to spite him. Phi, Why \ what hatred is betwixt them ? Fer, They are both in love and suters to one gentlewoman, the daughter of a welthie man in this citie. no Phi. Why, is the villeine become of such es- timation that he dare persume to be a suter to any gentlewoman of a good familie ? Fer. Yea, sir, out of all doubt. Phi. How call you his adversarie ? 115 I Scene VIII.] ^UppOSt^ 8 1 Fer. Cleander, one of the excellentest doctors in our citie. Phi. For Gods love, let us goe to him. Fer, Goe we then. Finis Actus 4. Actus v. Scena i. Fayned Erostrato. \_Erostrato.~\ What a mishappe was this ! that before I could meete with Erostrato, I have light even ful in the lap of Philogano, where I was constrained to denie my name, to denie my master, and to faine that I knew him not, to contend with him, and to revile him in such sort that, hap what hap can, I can never hap well in favour with him againe ! Therefore, if I coulde come to speake with the right Erostrato, I will renounce unto him both habite and credite, and away as fast as I can trudge into some strange countrey, where I may never see Philogano againe. Alas, he that of a litle childe hath brought me up unto this day, and nourished me as if I had bene his owne : and in deede An other (to confesse the trouth) I have no father suppose to trust unto but him. But looke where Pasi- philo commeth, the fittest man in the world to goe on my message to Erostrato. Erostrato espieth Pasiphilo camming towards him. Fayned Erostrato. Q3, Erostrato fained. Scene n.] ^UppOS^S 83 Scene ii. Pasiphiloy Erostrato. \_Pasiphilo.'] Two good newes have I heard to day alreadie : one that Erostrato prepared a great feast this night ; the other, that he seeketh for me. And I, to ease him of his travaile, least he shoulde runne up and downe seeking me, and 5 bicause no man loveth better than I to have an erand where good cheere is, come in post hast even home to his owne house : and loke where he is ! Erostrato. Pasiphilo, thou muste doe one thing 10 for me if thou love me. Pa. If I love you not, who loves you ? com- maunde me. Ero. Go then a litle there to Damons house, aske for Dulipo, and tell him — 15 Pa. Wot you what ? I cannot speake with him : he is in prison. Ero. In prison ? how commeth that to passe ? where is he in prison ? Pa. In a vile dungeon there within his mas- 20 ters house. Ero. Canst thou tell wherefore ? Pa. Be you content to know he is in prison: I have told you to muche. IS — Qq, (•) 84 ^UppOfifeSf [Act V. Ero. If ever you will doe any thing for me, 25 tell me. Pa. I pray you, desire me not ; what were you the better if you knew ? Ero. More than thou thinkest, Pasiphilo, by God ! 30 Pa. Well, and yet it standes me upon more than you thinke to keepe it secrete. Ero. Why, Pasiphilo, is this the trust I have had in you ? are these the faire promises you have alwayes made me ? 35 Pa. By the masse, I woulde I had fasted this night with Maister Doctor rather than have come hither. Ero. Wei, Pasiphilo, eyther tel me, or at few woordes never thinke to be welcome to this house 40 from hence forthe. Pa. Nay, yet I had rather leese all the gen- tlemen in this towne. But if I tell you any thing that displease you, blame no body but your selfe now. 45 Ero. There is nothing can greve me more than Dulipoes mishappe : no, not mine owne ; and therfore I am sure thou canst tell me no worsse tidings. Pa. Well, since you would needes have ^"°'^^!ij it, 1 wil tel you ; he was taken abed with homely your beloved Polynesta. suppose Scene m] g)UppOS^e0 85 Ero, Alas ! and doth Damon knowe it ? Pa. An olde trotte in the house disclosed it to him, wherupon he tooke bothe Dulipo and 55 the Nurse which hath bene the broker of all this bargayne, and clapte them bothe in a cage, where I thinke they shall have so[wr]e soppes too their sweete meates. Ero. Pasiphilo, go thy wayes into the kitchin, 60 commaund the cooke to boyle and roast what liketh thee best : I make thee supra visour of this supper. Pa. By the masse, if you should have studied this sevennight, you could not have appointed 65 me an office to please me better. You shall see what dishes I will devise. Pasiphilo goeth in^ Erostrato tarieth. ScENA iii. Fanned Erostrato alone. \Erostrato.'\ I was glad to rid him out of the way, least he shoulde see me burst out of these swelling teares, which hitherto with great payne I have prisoned in my brest, and least he shoulde heare the eccho of my doubled sighes, whiche s bounce from the botome of my hevy heart. O cursed I ! O cruell fortune ! that so many 58 soivre^ Qi. Q2, sorowe. Q3, sorow. zof. Qi omits. 86 g)UppO0eSl [Act V. dispersed griefes as were sufficient to subvert a legion of lovers, hast sodenly assembled within my care full carkase to freat this fearfull heart in lo sunder with desperation ! thou that hast kepte my master all his youthe within the realme of Siciha, reserving the wind and waves in a tem- perate calme (as it were at his commaunde) nowe to convey his aged limmes hither, neither 15 sooner nor later, but even in the worst time may be — if at any time before thou haddest conducted him, this enterprise had bene cut ofF without care in the beginning; and if never so little longer thou hadst lingered his jorney, this 20 happie day might then have fully finished our drifts and devises. But alas, thou hast brought him even in the very worst time to plunge us al in the pit of perdition. [Ne ither art thou content to entangle me alone in thy ruinous ropes ; but 25 thou must also catch the right Erostrato in thy crooked clawes, to reward us both with open shame and rebujcej Two yeeres hast thou kept secrete our subtilTsupposes, even this day to dis- cipher them with a sorowfull successe. What 30 shall I do ? Alas, what shift shall I make ? It is too late now to imagine any further deceite, for every minute seemeth an houre, til I find some succour for the miserable captive Ero- strato. Wei, since there is no other remedie, I 35 Scene IIII.] ^UppO^t^ 87 wil go to my master Philogano, and to him will I tell the whole truth of the matter, that at the least he may provide in time, before his sonne feele the smart of some sharpe revenge and pun- ishment. This is the best, and thus wil I do. 40 Yet I know that for mine owne parte I shal do bitter penance for my faults forepassed ; but suche is the good will and duetie that I beare to Erostrato, as even with the losse of my life I must not sticke to adventure any thing which 45 may turne to his commoditie. But what shall I do ? shal I go seeke my master about the towne, or shall I tarrie his returne hither ? If I meete him in the streetes he wil crie out upon me, nei- ther will he harken to any thing that I shall say, 50 till he have gathered all the people wondring about me, as it were at an owle. Therefore I were better to abide here, and yet if he tarrie long I will goe seeke him, rather than prolong the time to Erostratos perill. ^. Pasiphilo returneth to Erostrato. ScENA iiii. Pasiphilo^ Fanned Erostrato. \Pastphilo,, coming out of Erostrato* s house and speaking to Dalio within.'] Yea, dresse them, but 36 master. Q3, M. 88 ^UppOfife0 [Act V. lay them not to the fire, till they will be ready to sit downe. This geere goeth in order ; but if I had not gone in, there had fallen a foule faulte. 5 Erostrato. And what fault, I pray thee ? Pa. Marie, Dalio would have layd the shoul- der of mutton and the capon bothe to the fire at once like a foole ; he did not consider that the one woulde have more roasting than the lo other. Ero. Alas, I would this were the greatest fault. Pa, Why ? and either the one should have bene burned before the other had bene roasted, 15 or else he muste have drawne them ofF the spitte ; and they would have bene served to the boorde either colde or rawe. Ero. Thou hast reason, Pasiphilo. Pa. Now, sir, if it please you, I will goe into 20 the towne and buye oranges, olives, and caphers, for without suche sauce the supper were more than halfe lost. Ero. There are within already, doubt Erostrato you not : there shal lacke nothing that exit, is necessarie. Pa. Since I told him these newes of Dulipo, he is cleane beside himself: he hath so many Erostrato exit. This side-note is in Qi. Scene v.] g)UppO0eS? 89 hammers in his head, that his braynes are ready to burst : and let them breake, so I may a knavishe suppe with him to night, what care I ? suppose. But is not this Dominus noster Cleandrus that commeth before ? Well sayde : by my truth we will teache Maister Doctor to weare a cornerd cappe of a new fashion. By God, Polynesia shal 35 be his, he shall have hir out of doubt, for I have tolde Erostrato such newes of hir that he will none of hir. Clea?ider and Philogano come //?, talking of the matter in controversie. SCENA V. CleandeVy Philogano^ Litio, Pasiphilo. \J2leander^ Yea, but howe will ye prove that he is not Erostrato, having such presumptions to the contrarie ? or how shall it be thought that you are Philogano, when an other taketh upon him this same name, and for proofe bring- 5 eth him for a witnesse, which hath bene ever reputed here for Erostrato ? Philogano. I will tel you, sir. Let me be kept here fast in prison, and at my charges let there be some man sent into Sicilia, that may bring 10 hither with him two or three of the honestest men in Cathanea, and by them let it be proved 90 g)UPPOS?eSi [Act V. if I or this other be Philogano, and whether he be Erostrato or Dulipo my servant : and if you finde me contrarie, let me suffer death for it. 15 Pasiphilo. I will go salute Master Doctour. Cle. It will aske great labour and great ex- pences to prove it this way, but it is the best remedie that I can see. Pa. God save you, sir. 20 Cle. And reward you as you have deserved. Pa. Then shall he give me your favour continually. Cle. He shall give you a halter, knave and villein that thou arte. 25 Pa. I knowe I am a knave, but no villein. I am your servaunt. Cle. I neither take thee for my servant, nor for my friend. Pa. Why ? wherein have I offended you, sir? 30 Cle. Hence to the gallowes, knave. Pa. What ! softe and faire, sir, I pray you. /, prcesequar: you are mine elder. Cle. I will be even with you, be you sure, honest man. 35 Pa. Why, sir ? I never offended you. Cle. Well, I will teach you. Out of my sight, knave ! Pa. What? I am no dogge, I would you wist ! 40 45 Scene v.] §)UPJPO0eSf 9 1 Cle. Pratest thou yet, villein ? I will make thee — Pa. What will you make me ? I see wel the more a man doth suffer you, the worsse you are. Cle. Ah, villein ! if it were not for this gen- tleman, I wold tell you what I — Pa. Villein ? nay, I am as honest a man as you. Cle. Thou liest in thy throate, knave. 50 Phi. O sir, stay your wisedome. Pa. What, will you fight ? marie, come on. Cle. Well, knave, I will meete with you another time ; goe your way. 55 Pa. Even when you list, sir, I will be your man. Cle. And if I be not even with thee, call me cut. Pa. Nay, by the masse, all is one, I care 60 not, for I have nothing : if I had either landes or goods, peradventure you would pull me into the la we. \_Exit Pasiphilo.'] Phi. Sir, I perceive your pacience is moved. Cle. This villaine ! — but let him goe; I 65 will see him punished as he hath deserved. Now to the matter — how said you ? 42 — • Qq, (•) 47 — Qq, (•) 92 ^UppO0e0 [ActV. Phi. This fellow hath disquieted you, Lawyers sir : peradventure you would be loth to ^^^ "^^^'" be troubled any further ? to get Cle. Not a whit : say on, and let him money. go with a vengeance. Phi. I say, let them send at my charge to Cathanea. Cle. Yea, I remember that wel, and it is the 75 surest way as this case requireth. But tel me, how is he your servant ? and how come you by him? Enforme me fully in the matter. Phi. I will tell you, sir. When the Turkes won Otranto — 80 Cle. Oh, you put me in remembrance of my mishappes ! Phi. How, sir? Cle. For I was driven among the rest out of the towne (it is my native countrey), and there 85 I lost more than ever I shall recover againe while I live. Phi. Alas, a pitifuU case, by S. Anne ! Cle. Well, proceede. Phi. At that time (as I saide) there were cer- 90 taine of our countrey that scoured those costes upon the seas with a good barke, well appointed for the purpose, and had espiall of a Turkey vessell that came laden from thence with great aboundance of riches. 95 88 5. Qi, Saint. Scene V] g)UPpO0e0 93 Cle. And peradventure most of mine, a gentle Phi. So they boarded them, and in the suppose. end overcame them, and brought the goods to Palermo, from whence they came, and amongst other things that they had was this villeine myioo servaunt, a boy at that time, I thinke not past five yeeres olde. Cle. Alas, I lost one of that same age there. Phi. And I beyng there, and liking the childes favour well, proffered them foure and twentieios ducates for him, and had him. Cle. What ? was the childe a Turke ? or had the Turkes brought him from Otranto ? Phi. They saide he was a childe of Otranto, but what is that to the matter? once xxiiii du-iio cattes he cost me ; that I wot well. Cle. Alas, I speake it not for that, sir. I woulde it were he whome I meane. Phi. Why, whom meane you, sir ? A crafty Li. Beware, sir ; be not to lavish. suppose. Cle. Was his name Dulipo then ? or had he not another name ? Li. Beware what you say, sir. Phi. What the devill hast thou to doe ? Du- lipo ? No, sir; his name was Carino. 120 Li. Yea, well said. Tell all, and more to, doe. Cle. O Lord, if it be as I thinke, how happie 94 g>uppO0rS [Actv. were I ? and why did you change his name, then ? 125 Phi. We called him Dulipo, bycause when he cryed, as children doe sometimes, he woulde alwayes cry on that name Dulipo. Cle. Well then, I see well it is my owne onely childe, whome I loste when I loste my 130 countrie. He was named Carino after his grand- father ; and this Dulipo, whome he alwayes re- membred in his lamenting, was his foster father, that nourished him and brought him up. Li, Sir, have I not told you enough of the 135 falshood of Ferara ? This gentleman will not only picke your purse, but beguile you of your servaunt also, and make you beleve he is his son. Cle. Well, goodfellow, I have not used to lie. Li. Sir, no ; but every thing hath a begin- 140 ning. Cle. Fie, Philogano ! have you not the least suspecte that may be of me. Li. No, marie ; but it were good he had the most suspecte that may be. 145 Cle. Well, hold thou thy peace a litle, good f [e]llow. I pray you tell me, Philogano, had the child any remembrance of his fathers name, his mothers name, or the name of his familie } 129 it is my, Q3, he is mine. 134 nourished him. Q3 omits him, 147 felloiv. Q2, follow. Scene v.] ^UPPOfife0 95 Phi. He did remember them, and could name 150 his mother also ; but sure I have forgotten the name. Li. I remember it well enough. Phi. Tell it then. Li. Nay, that I will not, marie ; you have 155 tolde him too much al ready. Phi. Tell it, I say, if thou can. Li. Can ? yes, by the masse, I can wel enough ; but I wil have my tong pulled out rather than tell it, unlesse he tell it first. Doe 160 you not perceive, sir, what he goeth about ? Cle. Well, I will tell you then. My name you know already ; my wife, his mother's name, was Sophronia 5 the house that I came of they call Spiagia. 165 Li. I never heard him speake of Spiagia, but in deede I have heard him say his mothers name was Sophronia. But what of that ? a great matter, I promise you ! It is like enoughe that you two have compact together to deceive 170 my maister. Cle. What nedeth me more evident tokens ? This is my sonne, out of doubt, whom I lost eighteen yeares since ; and a thousand thousand times have I lamented for him. He shuld have 175 also a mould on his left shoulder. Li. He hath a moulde there in deede ; and 96 ^UppOSfeflJ [Act V. an hole in an other place to. I would your nose were in it. Cle. Faire wordes, fellow Litio ! Oh, I pray i8o you, let us goe talke with him. O fortune, howe much am I bounde to thee, if I finde my Sonne ! Phi. Yea, how little am I beholden to for- tune, that know not where my sonne is become ; 185 and you, whome I chose to be mine advocate, will nowe (by the meanes of this Dulipo) be- come mine adversarie ! Cle. Sir, let us first goe find mine ; and a right I warrant you yours will be founde also, suppose. ere it be long. Phi. God graunt ! Goe we, then. Cle. Since the dore is open, I will [neither] knocke nor cal, but we will be bolde to goe in. Li. Sir, take you heede, least he leade you to 195 some mischiefe. Phi. Alas, Litio, if my sonne be loste what care I what become of me ? Li. Well, I have tolde you my minde, sir ; doe you as you please. 200 Exeunt. Damon and Psiteria come in. 193 Since. Q3, Sith. neither^ Qi. Q2, Q3, never. Scene VI.] g)UppOS^e0 97 SCENA SEXTA. Damoriy Psiteria. \_Damon.'^ Come hither, you olde kallat, you tatling huswife, that the devill cut oute your tong ! tell me, howe could Pasiphilo know of this geere but by you ? Psiteria. Sir, he never knewe it of me j he 5 was the firste that tolde me of it. Da. Thou liest, old drabbe ; but I would ad- vise you tel me the truth, or I wil make those old bones rattle in your skin. Ps. Sir, if you finde me contrarie, kill me. 10 Da. Why, where shoulde he talke with thee ? Ps, He talked with me of it here in the streete. Da. What did you here ? Ps. I was going to the weavers for a webbe 15 of clothe you have there. Da. And what cause coulde Pasiphilo have to talke of it, unlesse thou began the mater first ? Ps. Nav, he began with me, sir, reviling me because I had tolde you of it : I asked him how 20 he knewe of it, and he said he was in the stable when you examined me ere while. Da. Alas, alas ! what shall I doe then ? In at dores, olde whore ; I wil plucke that tong of thine out by the rootes one day. Alas, it greeveth 25 98 §^UppO0e0 [Act V. me more that Pasiphilo knoweth it than all the rest. He that will have a thing kept secrete, let him tell it to Pasiphilo; the peddle shall knowe it, and as many as have eares and no mo. By this time he hath tolde it in a hundreth 30 places. Cleander was the firste, Erostrato the seconde, and so from one to another throughout the citie. Alas ! what dower, what mariage shall I nowe prepare for my daughter? O poore dolorous Damon, more miserable than miserie it 35 selfe, would God it were true that Poly- ^, ^^^ nesta tolde me ere while, that he who suppose hathe deflowred hir is of no servile es- brought to tate (as hitherto he hath bene supposed '^^"'^ " in my service), but that he is a gentleman, borne 40 of a good parentage in Sicilia. Alas ! small riches shoulde content me, if he be but of an honest famihe ; but I feare that he hathe devised these toyes to allure my daughtres love. Well, I wil goe examine hir againe ; my minde giveth me 45 that I shall perceive by hir tale whether it be true or not. But is not this Pasiphilo that com- meth out of my neighbours house ? What the devill ayleth him to leape and laughe so like a foole in the high way ? 50 Pasiphilo commeth out of the \house\ laughing. 48 home. Qq, towne, but the change is noted in Qi, '* Faultes escaped correction." Scene VII. ] ^UppO00Si 99 SCENA SEPTIMA. ^Pasiphiio,'^ Damon. ^PasiphiIo.~\ O God, that I might finde Damon at home. Damon \aside]^ . What the divill would he with me ? Pa. That I may be the firste that shall bring 5 him these newes. Da. \aside\ . What will he tell me, in the name of God ? Pa. O Lord, how happie am I ? Loke where he is ! 10 Da. What newes, Pasiphilo, that thou arte so merie ? Pa, Sir, I am mery to make you glad. I bring you joyfull newes. Da. And that I have nede of, Pasiphilo. 15 Pa. I knowe, sir, that you are a sorowfull man for this mishap that hath chaunced in your house ; peradventure you thoughte I had not knowen of it. But let it passe ; plucke up your sprits and rejoyce ; for he that hath done you 20 this injurie is so well borne and hath so riche parents that you may be glad to make him your Sonne in law. Pasiphilo^ Damon, Qi. Q2, Q3, Philogano, Damon. 100 ^UppO0e0 [ActV. Da. How knowest thou ? Pa. His father Philogano, one of the wor- 25 thiest men in all Cathanea, is nowe come to the citie, and is here in your neighbours house. Da. What, in Erostratos house? Pa. Nay, in Dulipos house : for where you have alwayes supposed this gentleman to be 30 Erostrato, it is not so, but your servaunt, whom you have emprisoned hitherto, supposed to be Dulipo, he is in dede Erostrato : and that other is Dulipo. And thus they have alwayes, even since their first arival in this citie, exchaunged 35 names, to the ende that Erostrato the maister, under the name of Dulipo a servant, might be entertained in your house, and so winne the love of your daughter. Da. Wei, then, I perceive it is even as Poll- 4° nesta told me. Pa, Why, did she tell you so ? Da, Yea : but I thought it but a tale. Pa. Well, it is a true tale, and here they will be with you by and by : both Philogano, this 45 worthie man, and Maister Doctor Cleander. Da. Cleander ? what to doe ? Pa. Cleander ? Why, therby lies another tale, the moste fortunate adventure that ever you heard : wot you what ? this other Dulipo, whome 50 all this while we supposed to be Erostrato, is Scene VIII. ] ^UppO0e0 I O I founde to be the sonne of Cleander, whome he lost at the losse of Otranto, and was after solde in Sicilia too this Philogano : the strangest case that ever you heard : a man might make a com- 55 edie of it. They wil come even straight, and tell you the whole circumstance of it themselves. Da. Nay, I will first goe heare the storie of this Dulipo, be it Dulipo or Erostrato that I have here within, before I speake with Philogano. 60 Pa, So shall you doe well, sir ; I will goe tell them that they may stay a while ; — but loke where they come. Damon goeth tji ; Scenesey Cleander and Philogano come upon the stage. ScENA viii. Scenese, Cleander, Philogano. \_Carino, i. e. Dulipo no longer disguised as Erostrato, ] \Scenese^ Sir, you shal not nede to excuse the matter any further; since I have received no greater injurie than by words, let them passe like wind ; I take them well in worthe, and am rather well pleased than offended : for it shall 5 bothe be a good warning to me another time howe to trust every man at the first sighte ; yea, and I shall have good game here after to tel this pleasant story another day in mine owne coun- trey. 10 102 ^uppos?es> [actv. Oleander. Gentleman, you have reason, and be you sure that as many as heare it will take great pleasure in it. And you, Philogano, may thinke that God in heaven above hath ordained your comming hither at this present, to the ende 15 I mighte recover my lost sonne, whom by no other meanes I coulde ever have founde oute. Philogano. Surely, sir, I thinke no lesse ; for I think that not so much as a leafe falleth from the tree without the ordinance of God. But let 20 us goe seke Damon, for me thinketh every day a yeare, every hour a daye, and every minute to much, till I see my Erostrato. Cle. I cannot blame you, goe we then. Cari- no, take you that gentleman home in the meane 25 time ; the fewer the better to be present at such affaires. Pasiphilo stayeth their going in. SCENA ix. \_Pasiphilo,~\ Oleander. [Pasiphilo,'^ Maister Doctor, will you not shew me this favour, to tell me the cause of your displeasure ? Oleander. Gentle Pasiphilo, I muste needes confesse I have done thee wrong, and that I 5 Pasiphilo, Clea7ider, Qi. Q2, Q3, Philogano, Oleander. Scene X.] ^UppOSfeg IO3 beleved tales of thee whiche in deede I finde now contrary. Pa. I am glad, then, that it proceeded rather of ignorance than of malice. Cle. Yea, beleve me, Pasiphilo. Pa. O, sir, but yet you shoulde not have given me suche foule wordes. Cle. Well, content thy selfe, Pasiphilo, I am thy frende as I have alwayes bene : for proofe whereof, come suppe with me to night, and from day to day this seven night be thou my guest. But, beholde, here commeth Damon out of his house. Here they come all togither. SCENA DECIMA. Cleander, PhiloganOy BamoTiy Erostrato, Pasiphiloy Polinesta. [^Later] Nevola, and other servaunts. \_Cleander.'j We are come unto you, sir, to turne youfr] sorowe into joy and gladnesse : the sorow, we meane, that of force you have sus- tained since this mishappe of late fallen in your house. But be you of good comforte, sir, and assure your selfe that this yong man which youthfully and not maliciously hath committed this amorous offence is verie well able (with consent of this worthie man his father) to make 17 commeth. Q3, corns. 8 able. Qi, hable. 104 Supposes? [Actv. you sufficient amendes : being borne in Ca- lo thanea of Sicilia, of a noble house, no way in- feriour unto you, and of wealth (by the reporte of suche as knowe it) farre exceeding that of yours. Philogano. And I here, in proper person, doe 15 presente unto you, sir, not onely my assured frendship and brotherhoode, but do earnestly desire you to accepte my poore childe (though unworthy) as your sonne in lawe ; and for re- compence of the injurie he hath done you I pro- 20 fer my whole lands in dower to your daughter : yea, and more would, if more I might. Cle. And I, sir, who have hitherto so earn- estly desired your daughter in manage, doe now willingly yelde up and quite claime to this 25 yong man, who both for his yeares and for the love he beareth hir, is most meetest to be hir husband. For wher I was desirous of a wife by whom I might have yssue, to leave that litle which God hath sent me, now have I litle neede, 3° that (thankes be to God) have founde my deerely beloved sonne, whom I loste of a childe at the siege of Otranto. Damon. Worthy gentleman, your friendship, your alliaunce, and the nobilitie of your birthe 35 are suche, as I have muche more cause to de- sire them of you than you to request of me that Scene X] &UppO0efl> IO5 which is already graunted. Therefore I gladly and willingly receive the same, and thinke my selfe moste happie now of all my life past that 40 I have gotten so toward a Sonne in lawe to my selfe, and so worthye a father in lawe to my daughter : yea, and muche the greater is my contentation, since this worthie gentleman, Maister Cleander, doth holde himselfe satisfied. 45 And now behold your sonne. Erostrato. Oh, father ! {^Bursts into Uars.] Pasiphilo. Beholde the naturall love of the childe to the father: for inwarde joye he cannot pronounce one worde, in steade wherof he send- 50 eth sobbes and teares to tell the effect of his inward in[t]ention. But why doe you abide here abrode ? wil it please you to goe into the house, sir ? Da. Pasiphilo hath saide well : will it please 55 you to goe in, sir ? \_Enter Nevola with chains.'] Nevola. Here I have brought you, sir, bothe fetters and boltes. Da. Away with them now. Ne. Yea, but what shal I doe with them ? 60 Da. Marie, I will tell thee, Nevola : to make a righte ende of our supposes, lay one of those boltes in the fire, and make thee a suppositorie as long as mine arme, God save the sample. 52 intention^ Qi. Qa, Q3, invention. io6 S^uppOSffflf [Actv. Nobles and gentlemen, if you suppose that our 65 supposes have given you sufficient cause of de- lighte, shewe some token, whereby we may sup- pose you are content. Et plauserunt. FINIS. 0ott$ to ^uppojsejs First Performance of Gli Soppositi (in prose) at Ferrara. Bernardino Prosper! to the Marchioness of Mantua, Feb. 8, 1509. Marti sera il Revo. Cardinale fece la sua composta per D. Lu- dovico Ariosto, comedia invero per moderna,^ tuta delectevole et piena de moralita et parole et gesti da riderne assai cum triplice fal- lacie o sia sottopositione. Lo argomento i'o recitato per lo compo- sitore, et e bellissimo et multo accomodato a li modi et costumi nostri, perche il caso accadete a Ferrara, secundo lui finge, come credo forse che V. S. ne habii noticia, et per questo non me extendo a nararglela altrimenti. Li intermeci furono tuti canti et musiche, et in fine de la comedia, Vulcano cum Ciclopi baterno saette a sono de piffari, battendo il tempo cum martelli et cum sonagli che tenivano a le gambe, et facto questo acto de le saette col menar de' mantici, fecero una morescha cum dicti martelli.^ First Performance of I Suppositi (in verse) at Rome. Alfonso Pauluzzo to the Duke of Ferrara, March 8, 1579. Fui a la Comedia Dominica sera et feceme intrare Mons. de Ran- goni dove era Nostro Signore con questi suoi Reverendissimi Cardinale gioveni in una anticamera di Cibo, et li pasegiava Nostro Signore per lassare introdure quella qualita di homini li parea : et intrati a quel numero voleva Sua Santita, se aviamo al loco dela Comedia, dove il prefato Nostro Signore se pose ala porta, e senza strepito, con la sua benedictione, permesse intrare che li parea ; et introsl neb sala, che da un lato era la sena et da laltro era loco facto de gradi dal cielo de la sala sino quasi in tera, dove era la sedia de Pontifico: quale, di poiforno intrati li seculari, intro et posesi sopra la sedia sua quale era cinque gradi alta de terra, et lo seguitorno li Reverendissimi con li Ambasatori, et da ogni lato de la sedia si poseno sicundo Tordine loro. Et seduto il populo, che poteva essere in numero de dua mila homini, sonandosi li pifari, si lasso cascare la tela, dove era pincto 1 For this use of per, see Blanc, Italienische Grammatii, p. 568. 2 Campori: Notixie per la vita di L. Ariosto^ P- 69. Ferrazzi, p. ZOO. D' Ancona, ii, p. 394, Note 2. io8 Jl^otetf Fra Mariano ^ con alcuni diavoli che giugavano con esse da ogni lato de la tella, et poi in mezo de la tella v' era un breve che diceva: S^uesti sono li capreci de Fra Mariano. Et sonandosi tutavia et il Papa mirando con el suo occhiale la sena che era molto bela, de mano de Rafaele, et representavasi bene per mia fe ferara ^ de pro- spective, che molto forno laudate: et mirando anchora el cielo che molto si representava belo, et poi li candeleri che erano formati in lettere, che ogni lettera subteneva cinque torcie, et diceano LEO X. PON. MAXIMVS. Sopragionse el Nuncio in seno, et recito r argumento, in demonstrar che Ferara era venuta lie sotto fede de Cibo per non tenerse de menor vaglia di Mantoa, che era sta por- tata I'anno passato da Sancta Maria in Portico: ^ et bischizo sopra il titolo de la comedia, che e de Suppositi, de tal modo che il Papa ne rise assai gagliardamente con li astanti j et per quanto intendo se ni scandalizorno Francesi alquanto sopra quelli Supposki. Se recito la comedia et fu molto bene pronunciataj et per ogni acto se li inter- medio una musica de pifari, de cornamusi, de dui corneti, de viole et leuti, de Torganeto che e tanto variato de voce che dono al Papa Mons. lUustrissimo de bona memoria/ et insieme vi era un flauto et una vece che molto bene si commendo. Li fu anche un concerto de voce in musica, che non comparse per mio judicio cossi bene come le altre musice. L' ultimo intermedio fu la moresca, che si represento la Fabula de Gorgon^ et fu assai bella; ma non in queUa perfectione chio ho visto representare in sala de Vostra Signoria; et con questa se fine. Elizabethan comment on Supposes. Gabriel Har- vey, in the copy of Q2 signed by him with the date " Londini, Cal. Sept. 1577," now in the Bodleian Library, writes at the bot- tom of the title-page of this division of Gascoigne's works: ** The best part, Hearbes ; especially, the Comedy, and Tragedy, excel- lent," and at the top of the same page: '* A fine Comedie : and a statelie Tragedie." At the end of the Prologue to Supposes he adds: "To coosen the expectation, one notable point in a 1 Successor of Bramante in the officio del piombo and also Leo X's chief court jester. 2 The text adopted is that of Ademollo {Carnevale di Roma. Docu- menti Inediti, 1499-1520. Firenze, 1886), which appears to be the most accurate. Campori here read forami., and Czpelli forme. J Alluding to the play acted the year before, the scene of which was Mantua. It was probably Grasso's Eutichia. 4 The Cardinal of Arragon. iPoteflf 109 Comedie : and one of the singularities of Unico Aretino, in his courting Italian Comedies." Gascoigne's debt to the Italian versions of Sup- poses. Several editions of Ariosto's comedy were published be- fore the date of Gascoigne's translation; for the prose version (P), I have used the Rome edition of 1524 ; for the verse (V), that of Venice of 1551. Two French translations had also appeared, of which I have seen one, that of J. P. de Mesmes, published at Paris in 1552 — " Ariosto La Comedie des supposez. En Italien et Fran- 9oys. ' ' From this Gascoigne possibly took his title, which is not a very happy translation of the Italian original, but he appears to have taken nothing more. He had evidently both the prose and the verse of the Italian original under his eye ; this maybe gathered from the following table showing the names of the characters, which differ somewhat in the two Italian versions, and are taken by Gascoigne, sometimes from one, sometimes from the other : Prose Verse Gascoigne Nutrice Balia Balia, the Polymnesta Polinesta Polynesta Cleandro Cleandro Cleander Pasiphilo Pasiphilo Pasiphilo Charione ) Carione ( Carione ) Charione ) Carion Dulipo Dulippo ( Dulipo I Dulippo Erostrato Erostrato Erostrato DaUo Dalio Dalio Crapino Caprino Crapino Sanese Sanese Scenaese Servo Servo Paquetto i Petrucio Damone Damonio Damon Nebbia Nevola Nevola Psiteria Psiteria Psiteria Philogono Philogono Philogano Lyco Litio Litio Ferrarese Ferrarese Ferrarese See note 37, 24, on p. 115. no j^otesf Of course, too much importance must not be attached to minor differences : in both Italian and English texts, / and y are practically interchangeable 5 and while Dulipo only is found in P, both forms occur in V, though in the latter pp is the rule 5 in the English text p is the rule of Qi, pp of Q3, but the printer is so blind to the difference that the catch-word at the bottom of p. 19 of Qi is printed Du/ippo, and the first word on p. 20 Dulipo. Still, the conclusion formed from a comparison of the three lists must be that both P and V were used, and this is abundantly confirmed by an examination of the texts. The English version has phrases which are found, sometimes only in P, sometimes only in V. Thus in the first scene, line 15, '* I have given you a wherfore for this why many times," is from P ; so are lines 1 16-18, " — he cast aside both long gowne and bookes, and determined on me only to apply his study ' ' j but slight phrases at the end of the scene show that V was also used. It will be seen from a comparison of passages such as the following (from i, ii) that both P and Vf were subjected to careful scrutiny : P. Cle. lo la Dio gratia de mia eta ho assai buona vista, e sento in me poca differentia di quel ch' io ero di venticinque, o trenta anni. Pas. E perche no, sei tu forsi vecchio } Cle. Io sono nelli cinquanta sei anni. Pas. Ne dice dieci mancho. Cle. Ch' di tu, dieci mancho ? Pas. Dico ch' io te istimavo de dieci anni mancho, non mostri passare trenta sei, o trent' otto al piu. Gascoigne. Cle. In good fayth and I thanke God I have mine eye sighte good and perfit, little worse than when I was but twentie yeres olde. Pa. How can it be otherwise ? you are but yong. Cle. I am fiftie yeres olde. Pa. He telles ten lesse than he is. Cle. What sayst thou of ten lesse ? Pa. I say I woulde have thoughte you tenne lesse, you looke like one of sixe and thirtie, or seven and thirtie at the moste. 0OttS 1 1 1 V. C. lo de la etade mia ho assai Dio gratia, Buona vista, ne molto differentia In me sento da quel che solevo essere Di venti anni o di trenta. P. perche credere Debb' io altrimenti ? non sete voi giovene ? C. Son ne cinquanta anni. P. piu di dodici Dice di manco. C. che di manco dodici Di tu ? P. che vi estimavo piu di dodici Anni di manco. non mostrate a 1' aria Passar trentasette anni. It is inconceivable that variations so slight should have been in- troduced later from either version ; Gascoigne must have used P and V simultaneously. The differences between P and V are not very great, and much of the English translation might have been taken from either : but so far as one can judge, Gascoigne adheres more closely to V, though with constant reference to P, and occasionally (as in v, vi) with entire reliance on it. Further details are given below. Gascoigne' s additions to the original are marked — G. 5. The Prologue is adapted from P and V, as will be seen from the following extracts, being the first parts of each: P. Qui siamo per farvi d' una nuova Comedia spettatori. il nome e li Soppositi, per che de soppositioni e tutta plena. Che li fanciulli sieno stati per ladietro soppositi, so che non pur nelle Comedie, ma letto havete nelle historie anchora, et forse e qui tra voi chi Iha in esperientia havuto. Ma che li vecchi sieno da li gioveni soppo- siti, vi debbe per certo parer nuovo etstrano, et pur li vecchi alcuna volta si soppongono similmente, il che vi sia nella nuova fabula notissi- mo. Non pigliate benigni Auditori questo sopponere in mala parte, che bene in altra guisa si soppone, che non lascio nelli suoi lascivi libri Elephantide figurato, et in altri anchora che non s' hanno li con- tentiosi Dialetici imaginato. qui con altre soppositioni il ser\'o per lo libero, e il libero per lo servo si soppone. et vi confessa Tautore havere in questo et Plauto et Terentio seguitato, etc. 112 iPotr0 V. Che talhora i fanciulli si soppongano A nostra etade ; e per adietro siano Stati non meno piu volte soppositi ; Oltre che voi Thabbiate ne le fabule Veduto, e letto ne T antique historic ; Forse e qui alcuno che in esperientia- L' ha havuto anchor : ma che li vecchi siano Similmente da i gioveni soppositi Nuovo, e strano vi dee parer certissima- Mente, e pur ancho i vecchi si soppongono : Ma voi ridete, oh che cosa da ridere Havete da me udita ? ah ch' io mi inmagino Donde cotesto riso dee procedere. Voi vi pensate che qualibe sporcitia . Vi voglia dire, o farvene spettacolo. 9> 50-53- In deede . . . flames of love. — G. Gabriel Harvey solemnly comments upon this scene : " They speak of the Doctor to serve their owne turne ; but he is highly commended in 54. 68 [iv, viii, 116, v, x, 44], and worthily, as should seem by anie course of his owne, in acts, or words." 10, 80. I can not tell . . . Greeke to me. — G. 13. The stage-direction at the end of i, i, and the pre- sence and aside of the Nurse in ii, are inserted by Gascoigne. 16, 76-77. The trade ... in ragges. Not a good translation of the verses quoted in the original : Opes dat Sanctio Justiniana ex aliis paleas, ex istis collige grana. 16, 93. by God ... in these dayes. — G. 18, 148. He speaketh . . . faste. P. Park coi morti, che digiunano altresi. V : the same words otherwise arranged. Gascoigne appears to have misunderstood the original, which is an imprecation, — in the imperative, not the indicative mood, — equivalent to " I would you were enjoying a dead man's fast." 21, 21. whiche . . . and al. — G. 22, 82-86. astheflie . . . consumption. — G. Here and elsewhere in Gascoigne's additions to the play, we have the marks of the euphuistic style — similes taken from natural history, balanced clauses, and alliteration. ^ott& 113 23, 9^97- I have free libertie . . . the more I de- sire. — G. 23. 106-11. Alas, the pleasant tast . . . dolours. — G. See note above as to euphuism. 24. Stage-direction. — G. 25. Scena iiii. This little scene gives a good example of Gascoigne's way of dealing with his originals : P. DuLiPO, Crapin Ragazzo di Erostrato. Da/. O Crapin che e de Erostrato ? Cra. De Erostrato sono libri, veste e denari, e molte altre cose, ch' egli ha in casa. Dul. Ah ghiotto io te dimando che minsegni Erostrato. Cra. A compito, o a distesa ? Dul. S'io ti prendo ne i capilli, te farro respondermi a proposito. Cra. Tarrvo. Dul. Aspettami un poco. Cra. Io non ci ho tempo. Dul. Per dio proveremo, chi di noi corre piu forte. Cra. Tu mi dovevi dare vantaggio, che hai piu lunghe le gambe. Du/. Dime Crapino che e de Erastrato ? Cra. Usci questa mattina per tempo di casa, e non e mai ritornato, io Io vidi poi in piazza che me disse ch' io venissi a torre questo cesto, e che tornasse li dove Dalio me aspettaria e cosi ritorno. Dul. Va adunque e se tu il vedi digli chio ho gran bisogno de par- larli, meglio e che anch' io vada alia piazza che forse Io trovero. V. Caprino, Ragazzo, Dulippo finto. Di Erostrato ? dirotelo, di Erostrato Son molti libri : e molte masseritie, E vesti, e panni lini, e cosi simili. JD. Io ti domando che m' insegni Erostrato. 1 14 iPote0 C. A compito, o a distesa ? D. che sea mettere Le man ti vengo ne le orecchie, creditu Ch' io ti faro rispondere a proposito ? C. Tarvo. D. aspettami un poco. C. per Dio scusami C hor non ci ho 1' agio. D. giocaremo a correre. C. Tu c' hai piu lunghe le gambe dovevime Dar vantaggio. D. horsu dimmi che e di Erostrato ? C. Io r ho lasciato in piazza, ove ricorrere M' ha fatto a tor questo capestro, volsiti Dir canestro, et ha seco Dalio, e dissemi Che a la porta del Duca m' aspettavano. D. Se tu Io truovi, digli che grandissimo Bisogno havrei di parlarli. deh aspettami, Gli e meglio ch' anche io venga, che trovandolo Potro senza suspetto, ne men commoda Mente, tra via li miei concetti esprimerli. The spelling ' ' Crapino. Dulipo ' ' is from P ; but a closer ex- amination shows that V is the version the translator has mainly- relied upon. V puts: "che e di Erostrato," at the end of the preceding scene instead of the beginning of this : orecchie (V) is chosen, not capilli (P). The pun capestro-ca'vestro and the men- tion of the Duke's palace occur only in P. The word-play in gen- eral is not very happily rendered, and " going to his house " is a positive mistranslation. The stage-direction, as in other cases, is inserted by Gascoigne. 27, 3. in every streete and every by lane. P. hor nella piazza, hor nel cortile. The cortile is a square in Ferrara near the Piazza. 27, 16-18. Yea, but so long . . . in earnest. — G. This fondness for popular proverbs is characteristic of Gascoigne. 29-30, 78-80. to follow this amorous enterprise . . . dread of shame. — G. 30, 83-85. a salve for every sore ... a remedie. — G. 30, 92. beyond S. Anthonies gate. P. de la porta del leone. V. de la porta de gli Angeli. 32, 134-35. to the King of Naples. In the original the ambassadors are said to be on their way from Naples to Ferrara, with presents from the King to the Duke. jliote0 115 32, 135. the officers whom you cal customers. V. questi public! [ Ladroni, che Doganieri si chiamono. 32, 147. his Chauncelor. P. uno suo cancellario. But most of this scene is taken from V. 33, 161-62. You would fayne . . . the hedge. — G. See note on 27, 16, above. 35, 217-18. when he shall binde a strange name, and not his owne. Loose translation of V. non essendoci | Scritto il suo nome, ma quel d'uno estraneo. 35> 238-40. he that fisheth ... a cods heade. — G. 37, 24. and you also, sirra ! P. e cosi dico a voi altrl V. e cosi ancho tu. Only one sers-ant is mentioned in the names at the beginning of this scene in the original (P. El Sanese, el suo Serv'o. V. Senese. II suo Famiglioj. Qi reads, The Scenese. Faumlua [obviously a misprint for Famulus] his ser\'ant. Q2 gives the names Paquetto and Petrucio : only the first has a speaking part ; but the second probably suggested to Shakspere the name of his hero in The Taming of the Sbreiv. 37, 28. Haccanea. An abortive attempt to reproduce the original jest: P. Ser. De questo nome strano [i. e. Philogono] me ricordaro male, ma quella Castanea non mi dimenticaro gia. San. Che Castanea, io te dico Catania in tuo mal punto. V. F. cotesto si eteroclito Nome, per certo havro male in memoria. Ma non gia quella castagna, si facile- Mente mi scordaro. .S. dico Cathanea E non castagna, in tuo mal punto. 37, 37. in the house of Crisobolus. A reference to Ariosto's earlier comedy, the Cassaria, iv, vii, where the servant Trappola attempts to get out of a scrape by pretending to be dumb. Possibly the same actor took the servant's part in this scene. 39, 3. Maiors officers. V. Ogni banchier, ogni ufficial di camera. ii6 jftoteflf 39, 8-1 o. an harlotrie . . . spurlings. A free translation of P. un luccietto d'una libra e meza et una pentola di ceci, e venti sparagi. 39, 1 6. double ducke egges. A curious mistranslation of the original doppioni (doubloons). 40, 31. In faith now let me alone. V. Lascia pur fare a me. The remark is apparently addressed to Carion aside from Cleander, to whom it refers. " Let me deal with him." 42, 76-77. A pretie paune ... on it. V. e debole | Pegno che sopra li hebrei non vi prestano. 42,91-92. Surely. .. money of him. An inadequate trans- lation of P. Questadebbe essere qualche ciancietta che colui gli da da parte di questa giovane che Iha fatto impazzire, con speranza di trarne qualche guadagnetto. 43, 107-09. they call him . . . upon it. The gross jest is Gascoigne's own. P. ha nome Rosso rasto, o Arosto, non Id so dire, ha un nome indiavolato. — V. si nomina | Arosto, o rospo, o grosco, io nol so esprimere | Ha un nome indiavolato. 44, 127. That the devill take him else. V. oh che sel porti il diavolo. 44> ^35-37- I never spitte . . . from it. P. Io non tosso, ne sputo pur mai. vho vho vho, e vero chio sono adesso un poco infreddato, ma chi non e da questo tempo. 44, 142-44. And that you are . . . see them. This coarse jest is only in P. 45, 152. Nay, gesse you that. FromV. Ariosto omitted from his second version the coarsest jest of the prose, and in this case Gascoigne followed his example. 45, 167. he shall have a. &C. P. voglio che me cavi un capestro, che I'impicchi. 45, 168-69. In good faith . . . loste on him. V. Per Dio, per Dio, havra fatto gran perdita — it will be a great loss to him. 45, 176. Foule fall you. — P. and V. Mai ti venga. — ill befall you ! 46, 180. Scabbe catch you — P. fusti occiso — would you were killed! V. Fossuccio. In V there is a third insult, which Gascoigne has omitted. 47, Actus III. Scena i. This is a good example of Gascoigne's careless, but, on the whole, vigorous fashion of ren- ^OttS 117 dering his original. P, which 13 substantially the same as V, reads : Dal. Come siamo a casa, credo ch'io non ritrovaro deTova che porta in quel cesto,un solo intiero, ma con chi parlo io ? dove dia- volo e rimasto anchora questo ghiotton, sera rimasto a dare la caccia a qualche cane, a scherzare con Torso, ad ogni cosa che trovava per via se ferma, se vede facchino, o villano, o giudeo non lo terri- ano le catene che non gli andasse affar' qualche dispiacere. tu ver- rai pur una volta capestro, bisogna che di passo in passo te vadi aspettando, per Dio s'io truovo pur un solo di quella ova rotto te rompero la testa. Cra. Si chio non potro sedere. Dal. Ah, frascha, frascha. Cra. S' io son frasca, son dunque mal sicuro a venire con un becco. Dal. S' io non fossi carico ti mostrarei s' io sono un becco. Cra. Rare volte t' ho veduto, che non sii carico, o di vino, di bastonate. Dal. Al dispetto chio non dico. Cra. Ah poltrone tu biastimi col cuore, e non osi con la lingua. 48, 38-43. doe you make . . . boyled. Obviously from V: E pela i tordi, et i piccioni, et acconciami Cotesta schiena, con gran diligentia, E cosi il petto, e poi le masseritie Fa che sien'nette, e piu che specchio luchino : Come io ritorni, ti diro per ordine Qual debbilesso, e qual arosto cuocermi. 49, 57-63. Now shall I . . . one ace. V reads : io faro ben conoscere A quel dottor pecorone, che studia Di diventare un becco, che in maliria E in cautele io non gli son per cedere. 50, 6. at last . . . set up his rest. V. dolente al fin pir vadane, | II resto. The meaning is "stake all he has left," 51, 17-18. as many crosses . . . brethren, i. e. no money at all. For this use of cross in the sense of coin, see Murray's ii8 jpotes Dictionary under "cross. 20." The theological form of expression is not found in the original. 51, 3-9. Go in . . . names. A free translation of V: va in casa e di al Nevola Al Rosso, al Mantovano, che a me qui venghino Che dispensarli voglio in diverse opere. E tu poi te ne va ne la mia camera, E cerca molto ben per quelle armario De le scritture, finche truovi un ruotolo D istrumenti, che parlano de la vendita Che fece Ugo mal pensa a mio Bisavolo De le terre da Ro : credo rogatone Fusse un ser Lippoda Piazza 52, 15. from the depth of hell pitte. P. da casa del gran diavolo. 52, 24-25, it hangeth . . . on the wall. V says'* in the key-hole" — che lasciata pel medesimo | EfFetto ho ne la toppa. 53, 48. Alas, I should not have committed. The moralizing from this point to the end of the scene is largely Gascoigne's : in the original the father's reflections are more practical and to the point. P (V is the same in verse) : lo, io solo son quello che merito essere punito, che me ho fidato lasciarla in guardia di questa puttana vecchia, s' io voleva che fusse ben custodita, la dovea custodire io, farla dormire nella camera mia, non tenere famigli giovini, non li fare un buon viso mai. o cara moglie mia adesso conosco la jattura ch' io feci quando di te rimasi privo, dhe perche gia tre anni quando io potteti non la maritai ? se ben non cosi riccamente almen con piu honore 1' haverei fatto, io ho indugiato de anno in anno, de mese in mese per porla altamente, ecco che me ne accade, a chi volevo io darla, a un Signore ? o misero, o infelice, o sciagurato me, questo e ben quel dolore, che vince tutti gli altri, che perdere robba ? che morte de figliuoli, e de moglie ? questo e lo affanno solo che puo uccidere e me uccidera veramente, o Polymnesta la mia bonta verso te, la mia dementia non meritava cosi duro premio. 55, 4-5. master Casteling . . . S. Antonies gate. P. Nomico da Perugia. V. M. paulin da bibula : | Sta presso a San Francesco. 56, 19-25. he had the disbursing . . . canvas. V: Havea cura egli de lo spendere E di tenere i conti, e del riscuotere, Le chiavi de granari, in sua mano erano. Dulippo di qua, Dulippo di la, intimo Egli al patrone, egli a i figliuoii in gratia, Era fa il tutto, egli d' oro finissimo, Di fango eramo noi altri, e di polvere. 56, 23. magister factotum. Mr. Do-Everjlhing ; trans- lating : fa il tutto. 56, 27. Pasi . . . venit. **Pasiphilo comes in suddenly and unexpectedly. " — G. 57, 36. a rumbling in my belly. V. Mi sentii in corpo non so che. 57, 50-52. He shall be sure . . . belie. V reads: Chi la torra potra trovarle vergine Cr[e]atura nel corpo, maschio, o femina, Se ben ella non e. 575 50-53- O God, how men may be deceived in a woman ! — G. 57, 54-65. Aske the neighbours . . . hir else. A free rendering of P (with which V is practically identical): Dimanda la vicinanza de sua conditione, la megliore, la piu divota giovane del mondo, non pratica mai se non con suore, la piu parte del di sta in oratione, rarissime volte si vede in uscio, o in finestra, non s' ode che dalcuno innamorata sia, e una santarella, buon pro li faccia, colui che havera per moglie, guadagnara piu dote che non pensa, un par almen de lunghissime corna, se non piu mancare non li possono. 58, I. To a gossip of myne heereby. P. Qui preso a una mia comare — V. Qua presso, a casa di mona Beritola. 59, 35.1 woulde not for. &c. — G. 60, 46—47. Go . . . old trotte. V. va, ma in polvere. 61, 15. at the water gate. P. fuori della porta di santo Paulo. 63. Scena iii. Another instance of Gascoigne's lively but " inaccurate manner of translating : 120 jliote0 p. Cra. O vecchia, o vecchiaccia sorda, non odi tu phantasma ? Psi. Dio faccia che tu non sia mai vecchio, perche a te non sia detto similmente. Cra. Vedi un poco se e Dulipo in casa. Psi. Ce e pur troppo, cosi non ci fusse egli mai stato. Cra. Dilli in servitio mio, che venghi sin qui chic vo parlargli. Psi. Non puo per ch'egli e impacciato. Cra. Fagli V ambasciata volto mio bello. . Psi. Dhe capestro, io te dico che glie impacciato. 1, Cra. E tu sei impazzata, h un gran fatto dirgli una parola. Psi. Ben sai che glie gran fatto ghiotto fastidioso. Cra. O asina indiscreta. Psi. O ti nasca la fistula ribaldello, che tu sarai impicato anchora. Cra. E tu sarai brugiata, brutta Strega, s'el cancaro non ti mangia prima. Psi. Se mi t'acosti te dare una bastonata. Cra. S'io piglio un sasso te spezzaro quella testaccia balorda. Psi. Hor sia in mai hora, credo che sia el diavolo che me viene a tentare. Ero. Crapino ritorna a me che stai tu a contendere ? &c. O buona donna, o vecchia, o brutta femina Vecchiaccia sorda : non odi phantasima ? P. Dio facci che tu vecchio non possi essere Mai, Si che alcun non t'habbia a dire il simile. C. Vedi s 'in casa e Dulippo di gratia. P. Cosi non ci fusse egli. C. dhe domandalo Un poco da mia parte, c 'ho grandissimo Bisogno di parlargli. P. habbi patientia Ch'egli e impacciato. C. volto mio bello, anima Mia cara, fagli limbasciata. P. dicoti Che glie impacciato. C. e tu impazzata, femina Poltrona. P. deh capestro. C. o indiscreta asina. P. O ribaldel che ti nasca la fistola Che tu sarai impiccato. C. e tu malefica Stregha sarai bruciata. se gia il cancaro Jliotefif 121 Pria nond mangia. gran fatto sarebbeti A dirgli una parola. P. se t' approssimi lo ti daro una bastonata. C. Guardati, Vecchia, imbriaca, che s'io piglio un ciottolo Non ti spezzi questo capo di scimia. P. Hor sia in malhora : credo tu sia il diavolo Che me viene a tentar. E. Crapin non odi tu Ritorna a me. che stai cosi a contendere ? &c. 64, 14. Ancona. Ariosto mentions Loreto before Ancona, but some of the texts are corrupt at this point, and Gascoigne may have omitted it for this reason. 64, 27. fardings. Gascoigne here sacrificed the sense to alliteration. P. robba da datio. V. Mercancie, robe che pagasson datio. 64, 28-30. Sure . . . knaves still. A mistranslation of V. Ho inteso che cotesti fanno pessime | Cose e che i Marcadanti vi assassinano, — Evidently it is the excisemen, not the merchants, who do the <* bobbing." 65 » 34- pleasant. P and V. accrescimento di letitia. 66, 75. womanlike. P and V. feminile. 67, 90. enough . . . feast. V. riprensibile | E ogni cosa troppo. Gascoigne's fondness for proverbs has been already noted. 67, 97-98. your grandefathers soule. P. tua madre. V. v'havesse dato Tessere. The verse edition of 1562 (Venice) puts this and the next line into the following scene. That of 1551 has the same arrangement as Gascoigne has adopted : so have ap- parently all the prose editions. 68, 27. three houres. P. piu de quattro hore. V. due hore piu. 68, 28. at the Aungell. P. all hosteria dela Corona. V. al Angelo. 69,34-36. I am matched . . . another while. — G. 72, 45. this good fawchion. Pand V. questo schidone — this spit. 72,46. if my maister . . . burst. A free translation of P (V is slightly different) : guai a te se Erostrato qui se trovava, torna in casa signore, e lascia gracchiare questo uccellaccio nella strada tanto che si crepi. 122 jl^ote0 72, 2-5. Sir, I like it . . . accordingly. Gascoigne has failed here to reproduce the force of the original which puns on Ferrara diXiAferro (iron) — gli effetti secondo il nome escono (V). 72, 9. Well . . . both. P and V. Tutti n' avete colpa. 72, II. officers, p. officiali. V. Rettori. 73, 27-28, either at the schooles . . . find him. P. andaremo ale schole prima, se non e quivi, lo trovaremo alia piazza. V. o al escuole il trovaremo ? o al circolo | In vescovato. This last expression puzzles the Italian commentators. Barotti sug- gests that the doctoral exercises were held in the bishop's palace. Gascoigne probably fell back on his general knowledge of English university life. 74, Scena vii. This scene appears to be taken entirely from V. 76, 62. cackabed. This coarse expression is added by Gas- coigne. P. vecchio rabbioso. V. vecchio farnetico. 76. Scena viii. The opening speech of this scene is loosely translated. 79, 60. coram judice. In the presence of the judge. 80, 98-99. Well sayd . . . lookes. The earlier part of this scene seems to be taken from P, but this speech is evidently from V: anchio pochissima Fede ho in questi che torto il capo portano j E con parole mansuete, et humili Si van coprendo fin che te 1' attacano. P has simply : questi che portano el colo torto. 84, 51-52- he was taken . . . Polynesta. P. e stato ritrovato, che si giagea con Polymnesta tua. 85, 58-59. I thinke . . . sweete meates. P. faranno de peccati lor durissima penitentia. 85,62-63. I make thee . , . supper. — G. 85, 64-67. By the masse . . . devise. V. Se voi certo m' havete fatto judice | De savii non mi havreste dato ufficio | Che fosse piu di questo a mio proposito. — Judice de savii, head of the city magistrates. 85, 6. bounce . . . hevy heart. The alliteration here and all through this speech is Gascoigne' s. 87, 52. as it were at an owle. — G. j^ote0 123 88, 7-8. the shoulder of mutton and the capon. P. li Tordi, con la lonza. 88, 21. and caphers. — G. 88-89, 27-35- Since I told him ... of a new fash- ion. Loose translation of V : Poi ch' io gli ho detto che Dulippo e in carcere Tutto e tomato bizzaro e fantastico. Tanto martello ha che creppa. ma habbilo Quanto si vuole, il cuor gli crepi, e 1 anima Pur ch' io ceni con lui, c' ho da curarmene ? Ma non e questo che viene in qua dominus Cleandrus ? bene veniat. noi porremoli II cimier de le corna omnino in capite. The Italian commentators explain martello as meaning " rabbia, ira." Gascoigne has translated it literally. Cimier is the crest of a helmet : Gascoigne has turned this into a reference to the doctor's cap, at some loss of the force of the allusion to " horns." 90, 14-15. andifyoufinde . . . death forit. — G. 90, 26-27. I knowe . . . servaunt, P (V is almost the same) : Ch' io sia ghiotto ti confesso, ma ribaldo no, hai torto dirme cosi che servitor ti sono — It will be seen that Gascoigne has missed the force of Pasiphilo's distinction : he admits that he is a glutton, but not that he is a rascal. 90, 33. I, praesequar . . . elder. This is Gascoigne's addition. P. Ah Cleandro pianamente. V. sempre ve ho hauto in reverentia. Gascoigne has dealt very freely with this quarrel scene, taking something now from P, now from V, and adding a little of his own. 9I» 58-59- call me cut. P. mutami nome. 92, 88. Alas . . . S. Anne. P. Me ne duole. 92, 92. a good barke. P. tre buone armate Galee. V. tre Galee. 92, 94. from thence. P. dalla presa citta . . . verso Velona se ritornava. 93, 101-02. I thinke not past five yeeres old. P. all- hora fanciullo de cinque sei anni. V. al mio credere. | Non dovea anchora alii cinque anni giungere. 124 0OttfSi 93, 115. Beware . . . lavish. P. Noi stiamo freschi, aspetta pure. V. Stiam freschi. 93> 1 15-16. lavish, was. Between 1. 115 and 1. 116 V in- terposes : P/i. non ci interrompere | Temerario. P and G omit. 95, 161. What hee goeth about ? P and V. che gli va a tentone ? 95, 174. eighteen yeares since. P. diceotto anni. V. venti. All this is from P. V does not mention Spiagia. 95> 177-79- He hath ... in it. P. Che maraviglia se te la detto, che tu lo sappi, el neo ce ha pur troppo, cosi ce havessi egli. V. II segno v' ha, v' havess' egli | Cosi. Gascoigne has added a touch of coarseness of his own. 97, 15. to the "weavers. P. a casa de mona Bionda (V. Beritola). 99. Scena septima. The previous scene (vi) seems to be taken from P : the arrangement of the dialogue at the beginning of this is obviously from V. 100,47. Cleander? what to doe? This interjection by Damon is only in P. (Come Cleandro. ) 101. Scena viii. This scene is a very loose translation, or rather summary of V 5 two short speeches, found in P and not in V, are omitted, and the speeches found in both P and V are shortened. ** I shall have good game here after to tel this pleasant story another day in mine owne countrey ' ' rests upon what Cleander says in V. The first half of the scene bears only a distant resemblance to the original. 102, 24. Carino. Cleander's newfound son is evidently pre- sent, although his name is not mentioned in the stage-direction and he takes no part in the dialogue. The stage-direction at the end of the scene is, as in other cases, added by Gascoigne : in the original, the Scenese and Carino apparently withdrew. 102. Scena ix. This scene is also freely rendered from V, with some slight omissions. In P there is no division between this scene and the next, Cleander's speech running right on with the connecting link. '* Lascerni parlare a me prima." 103. Polinesta. [Later] Nevola and other Ser- vants. These names are not given in V, or in P at the head of ix. It is evident, however, from the text that Polinesta is pre- jliote0 125 sent, for in both Damon'3 speech ends : E questa h la nuora tua. ( V. vostra Nuora. ) 104, 20-21. I prefer my whole lands in dower to your daughter. This is not found in the original. 105, 52-56. But why . . . goe in, sir. This is from V; P gives a slightly different arrangement of the text, Damon mak- ing the suggestion *' Andiamo in casa," and Pasiphilo falling in with it : " E ben detto, in casa, in casa." Both P and V make a new scene here, consisting of the last half-dozen lines. Both give the final speech, not to Damon, but to Pasiphilo. 105, 61-64. Marie . . . the sample. P. Chiavateli in culo. V. che quanto e lungo il manico | Tu te li chiavi, ben m' intendi Nevola. 106, 69. Et plauserunt. — G. The prose versions put " Valete," V simply '» 11 fine." THE TEXT In addition to the quarto variants, all the MS. readings of Jocasta are here printed for the first time. This "interesting dra- matic relic" appears to date back to 1568, and was the property of Roger, second baron North, whose autograph may be seen on the title, here reproduced in facsimile ; it afterwards passed into the hands of the Earls of Guilford, then into the library of the late Thomas Corser, and finally into the MSS. Department of the Brit- ish Museum. For the text of the Italian original, that published in 1809 by the Societa Tipografica de' Classici Italian! has been adopted, with such slight changes as were necessary to make it a faithful reprint of the first Aldine edition of 1549, in octavo (O) — the one the English translators seem to have used. Thus, in 11, i, 388, where the edition of 1549 reads egualita and that of 1560 in duodecimo (D) equita, the English translation reads Equalitie. Line 1 16 of iv, i, which is omitted from O, is also omitted from the English translation. ^l^VA ■-/. ^^^^ GI OC AST A T R A G E D I A D I M. LODOVICO DOLCE. JOCASTA: A Tragedie written in Greeke by Euripides^ translated and digested into Acte by George Gas- coygne and Francis Kinwelmershe of Grayes Inne, and there by them presented, 1566. 8 1^66, Q3, An. 1566. The Argument of the Tragedie. To scourge the cryme of wicked Laius^ And wrecke the foule incest of Oedipus., The angry Gods styrred up theyr sonnes., by strife IVtth blades embrewed to reave eache others life : The wife., the mother., and the concubyne., 5 {IVhose fear e full hart foredrad theyr fat all fine ^ Hir sonnes thus dead., disdayneth longer lyfe., And slayes hir self with selfsame bloudy knyfe : The daughter she., surprisde with childish dreade (That durst not dye') a lothsome lyfe doth leade., lo Tet rather chose to guide hir banisht sire'., Than cruell Creon should have his desire. Creon is King., the '^type of Tyranny., * Fygure. And Oedipus., myrrour of misery. Fortunatus Infcelix. 3 theyr. MS., his. 4 blades. MS., blade. 5 The . . . the . . . the. MS., his ... his .. . his. 13 h King., the. MS., the king ys. * Fygure. MS. and Qi omit this and all subsequent side-notes. 15 Fortunatus Infcelix. MS. omits. PERSONS DELLA 'TRAGEBIA. Servo. GlOCASTA. Bailo. Antigone. CoRo di Donne Tebane. polinice. Eteocle. Creonte. Meneceo. Tiresia. Manto. Sacerdote. Nuncio. Un altro Nuncio. Edipo. La favola e rappresentata in Tebe. Giocasta fa 11 prologo. 17 Giocasta . . . prologo. D omits. The names of the Interloquutors. JocASTA, the Queene. Servus, a noble man of the Queenes traine. Bailo, governour to the Queenes sonnes. Antygone, daughter to the Queene. Chorus, foure Thebane dames. POLLYNICES & ) „ o 1 /^ „ y sonnes to Oedipus & the Queene. Eteocles, J ''' Creon, the Queenes brother. Meneceus, Sonne to Creon. Tyresias, the divine priest. Manto, the daughter of Tyresias. Sacerdos, the sacrifycing priest. NuNTii, three messangers from the campe. Oedipus, the olde king, father to Eteocles and Pollynices, Sonne and husbande to Jocasta the Queene. The Tragedie presented as it were m Thebes. 16-17 ^^* • • • Thebes. MS. and Qi, The tragedie represented in Thebes. ^ The order of the dumme shewes and Musickes before every Acte. Firste, before the beginning of the first Acte, did sounde a dolefull and straunge noyse of viol- les, cythren, bandurion, and such like, during the whiche there came in uppon the stage a king with an imperial crown uppon his head, very richeley apparelled : a scepter in his righte hande, a mounde with a crosse in his lefte hande, sitting in a chariote very richely furnished, drawne in by foure kinges in their dublettes and hosen, with crownes also upon their heades, represent- ing unto us ambition, by the hystorie of Sesos- tres, king of Egypt, who beeing in his time and reigne a mightie conquerour, yet not content to have subdued many princes, and taken from them their kingdomes and dominions, did in like maner cause those kinges whome he had so over- come, to draw in his chariote like beastes and oxen, thereby to content his unbrideled ambi- 6 righte. MS. omits. turtle order of tlje oumme ^tjetoes; 135 tious desire. After he had beene drawne twyce about the stage, and retyred, the musicke ceased, 20 and Jocasta the Queene issued out of hir house, beginning the firste Acte, as followeth. Jocasta the Queene issueth out of hir pallace, before hir twelve Gentlemen, following after hir eight Gentlewomen, whereof foure be the Chorus that 25 remayne on the stage after hir departure. At hir entrance the trumpettes sounded, and after she had gone once about the stage, she turneth to one of hir most trustie and esteemed servaunts, and unto him she discloseth hir griefe, as fol- 30 oweth. 24 Gentlemen. MS. and Ql add, 'very bravely appareled. (Btocajsta Atto Primo. [SCENA I.] Giocasta, Servo, Giocasta, Caro gia del mio padre antico servo, Benche nota ti sia 1' istoria a pieno De' miei gravi dolor, de' miei martiri; Pur, dair alto e real stato di prima Veggendomi condotta a tal bassezza, S Che '1 mio proprio figliuol sdegna ascoltarmi, Ne tengo di Reina altro, che '1 nome, E veggo la cittade, e '1 sangue mio L' arme pigliar contro '1 suo stesso sangue; Perche si sfoga ragionando il core; lo lo ti vo' raccontar quel ch' e palese : Perocch' io so che delle pene mie Pieta sovente a lagrimar ti move, E, pill che i figli miei, ne senti afFanno. giocajsta The first Acte. The first Scene, [^Before the Palace of Jocasta."^ Jocastay Servus. VJocastaJ^ O faithfull servaunt of mine aun- cient sire, Though unto thee sufficiently be knowne The whole discourse of my recurelesse griefe By seing me from princes royall state Thus basely brought into so great contempt As mine own sonnes repine to heare my plaint, Now of a queene but barely bearing name, Seying this towne, seing my fleshe and bloude. Against it selfe to levie threatning armes, (Whereof to talke my heart it rendes in twaine) Yet once againe I must to thee recompte The wailefull thing that is already spred, Bicause I know that pitie will compell Thy tender hart more than my natural! childe Before the Palace. The scene remains unchanged throughout the play. 138 €>iocasfta [acti Servo. Reina, come me non vinse alcuno 15 In servir fedelmente il mio Signore; Cosi i' credo che alcuno in amar voi De' figli vostri non mi passa avanti. Questo conviensi agli obblighi ch' io tengo Non meno a voi, ch' io gia tenessi a lui: 20 Che, se gli obblighi miei sono infiniti, Infinito esser deve anco 1' amore: E, se piacesse ai Dii che questa vita Spender potessi a beneficio vostro, Non rifiutate voi di adoperarla, 25 Acciocche in questa mia gia stanca etade Lieto e contento all' altra vita io passi Di non avermi in alcun tempo mostro A si degni Signori ingrato servo. Gio. Tu sai quanta vaghezza ebbe mio padre 30 Di legarmi con nodo di mogliera A Laio Re dell' infelice Tebe; Ch' infelice ben e la citta nostra : E sai siccome il mio novello sposo, BramQSo di saper quel ch' era occulto, 35 Scene!.] ^OtdiSt^ 1 39 With ruthfull teares to mone my mourning case. 15 Servus. My gracious Queene, as no man might surmount The constant faith I beare my sovraine lorde, So doe I thinke, for love and trustie zeale, No Sonne you have doth owe you more than I : For hereunto I am by dutie bounde 20 With service meete no lesse to honor you Than that renoumed prince your deere father. And as my duties be most infinite, So infinite must also be my love : Then, if my life or spending of my bloude 25 May be employde to doe your highnesse good, Commaunde (O Queene), commaund this car- casse here. In spite of death, to satisfie thy will ; So, though I die, yet shall my willing ghost Contentedly forsake this withered corps 30 For joy to thinke I never shewde my selfe Ingrateful once to such a worthy queene. yoc. Thou knowst what care my carefull father tooke In wedlockes sacred state to settle me With Laius, king of this unhappie Thebs 35 That most unhappie now our Citie is : Thou knowst how he, desirous still to searche The hidden secrets of supernall powers, 140 ^iocasfta [act i. Ricorse agli Indovini, e intender volse, Quando di me nascesse alcun figliuolo, Qual di lui fosse la futura sorte. Onde, avendo risposta amara et aspra, Che dal proprio figliuol sarebbe ucciso, Cerco il misero Re (ma cerco invano) Di fuggir quel che non potea fuggirsi. Quinci, sbandita ogni pieta natia, Poiche '1 peso meschin di questo ventre Nella luce mortal aperse gli occhi, Commise a un servo suo piii d' altri fido Che lo portasse entro una selva oscura, E lasciasse il figliuol cibo alle Fere. Ser, Infelice bambin, nato in mal punto. Gio. II servo, insieme obbediente, e pio, Quel pargoletto a un' arbore sospese Per li teneri piedi alto da terra, Con acuto coltel forando quelli; Indi per dentro alle ferite d' ambi Di vimini ponendo intorno avvolti Al picciol peso assai forte sostegno, Cosi lascio '1 fanciullo appena nato ; II qual morir dovea fra poco d' ora, Se '1 fato, che per mal di tutti noi Scene!.] ^lOCaS^ta I4I Unto divines did make his ofte recourse, Of them to learne when he should have a Sonne 4° That in his realme might after him succeede : Of whom receiving answere sharpe and sowre, That his owne sonne should worke his wailful! ende, The wretched king (though all in vayne) did seeke For to eschew that could not be eschewed : 45 And so, forgetting lawes of natures love. No sooner had this paynfull wombe brought foorth His eldest sonne to this desired light. But straight he charged a trustie man of his To beare the childe into a desert wood, 50 And leave it there for tigers to devoure. Ser. O lucklesse babe, begot in wofull houre ! Joe. His servant, thus obedient to his best. Up by the heeles did hang this faultlesse impe, And percing with a knife his tender feete, 55 Through both the wounds did drawe the slender twigs Which, being bound about his feeble limmes, Were strong inough to holde the little soule. Thus did he leave this infant scarcely borne, That in short time must needes have lost his Hfe, 60 If destenie (that for our greater greefes 142 €>ioca0ta [act i. Avea disposto conservarlo in vita, 60 Non mandava al meschin presto soccorso. Questo fu, ch' un pastor, quindi passando, Pietosamente lo campo da morte, Recollo al tetto, e alia sua moglie il diede. Or odi com' il Ciel la strada aperse 65 Alia morte di Laio, e alle mie pene. Ser. Ben s' e veduto, e si dimostra ogn' ora Che contra '1 Cielo e in darno umana forza. Gio. Era a que' di la moglie di Polibo, Re di Corinto, in grave affanno involta, 70 Perocche non potea ricever prole. II cortese pastor le fece dono Del mio figliuol, ch' a lei fu caro molto ; Parte per esser ben formato e hello Parte, che '1 giudico di Re figliuolo. 75 Crehhe il fanciullo, e fu creduto figlio Di Poliho molt' anni, in fin ch' Edipo (Che tale al mio figliuol fu posto nome) Scene I] 3!0Cafi^ta 143 Decreede before to keep it stille alive) Had not unto this childe sent present helpe : For so it chaunst, a shepheard passing by, With pitie movde, did stay his giltlesse death : 65 He tooke him home, and gave him to his wife. With homelie fare to feede and foster up : Now harken how the heavens have wrought the way To Laius death and to mine owne decay. Ser. " Experience proves, and daily is it seene, 70 In vaine (too vaine) man strives against the heavens." Joe. Not farre fro thence, the mightie Po- libus, Of Corinth king, did keepe his princely court. Unto whose wofull wife (lamenting muche Shee had no ofspring by hir noble pheere) 75 The curteous shepherd gave my little sonne : Which gratefull gift the Queene did so accept As nothing seemde more precious in hir sight : Partly, for that its faitures were so fine, Partly, for that he was so beautifull, 80 And partly, for bicause his comely grace Gave great suspicion of his royall bloude. The infant grewe, and many yeares was demde Polibus sonne, till time that Oedipus (For so he named was) did understande 8^ 144 ^ioca0ta [acti. Intese che quel Re non gli era padre ; Onde lascio Corinto, e '1 pie rivolse 80 A ricercar della sua stirpe indizio. Ma pervenuto in Focide, ebbe avviso Dair Oracol divin noioso e tristo; Che troverebbe, e ucciderebbe il padre, E diverria della sua madre sposo. 85 Ser. Ben fu crudo pianeta, e fera Stella Che destino questo peccato orrendo. Gio. Dunque cerco, pien di spavento, Edipo Di schifar quel che disponea la sorte : Ma, mentre che fuggir cercava il male ; 90 Condotto dair iniqua sua ventura, Venne in quel che fuggiva ad incontrarsi. Era in Focide Laio, e terminava Di discordia civil nuove contese Nate tra quella gente : onde il mio figlio, 95 Prestando aita alia contraria parte, Uccise, incauto, V infelice padre : Cos! i celesti Nuncii, e parimente Le profetiche voci ebbero efFetto. Sol rimaneva ad adempir la sorte 100 Delia misera madre : Oime, ch io sento Scene!.] ^OtU^ttl 145 That Polibus was not his sire in deede, Whereby, forsaking frendes and countrie there, He did returne to seeke his native stocke : And, being come into Phocides lande, Toke notice of the cursed oracle, 9° How first he shoulde his father doe to death, And then become his mothers wedded mate. Ser. O fierce aspect of cruell planets all. That can decree such seas of heynous faultes. Joe. Then Oedipus, fraight full of chilling feare, 95 By all meanes sought t' avoyde this furious fate ; But whiles he weende to shunne the shameful deede, Unluckly guided by his owne mishappe. He fell into the snare that most he feared. For loe, in Phocides did Laius lye, loo To ende the broyles that civill discorde then Had raysed up in that unquiet lande. By meanes whereof my wofull Oedipus, Affording ayde unto the other side, With murdring blade unwares his father slewe. 105 Thus heavenly doome, thus fate, thus powers divine. Thus wicked reade of prophets, tooke effect : Now onely restes to ende the bitter happe Of me — of me, his miserable mother. 89 Phocides. Hazlitt, Phocian. 95 fraight. Q3, fraught. 146 ^iocas?ta [acti. Tutto dentro del cor gelarsi il sangue. Edipo, fatto V omicidio strano, Spinto dal suo destin, sen venne in Tebe ; Dove con molta gloria in un momento 105 Fu incoronato Re dal popol tutto Per la vittoria che del Mostro ottenne, Che distrugger solea questo paese. Cos' io (chi udi giammai piii orribil cosa ?) Del mio proprio figliuol divenni moglie. no Ser. Non so perche non s' ascondesse il Sole, Per non veder si abbominoso effetto. Gio. Cosi di quel che del mio ventre nacque Io n* ebbi (oime infelice) due figliuoli, Et altrettante figlie. Ma dappoi 115 Che si scoprir le scellerate nozze ; Allor, pien d' ira, e addolorato Edipo, Con le sue proprie man si trasse gli occhi, In se crudel, per non veder piii luce. Ser. Com' esser puo che, avendo conosciuto 120 Si gran peccato, egli restasse in vita ? Scene I.] 3[lOCa0ta 147 Alas, how colde I feele the quaking bloud no Passe too and fro within my trembling brest : Oedipus, when this bloudy deede was done, Forst foorth by fatall doome, to Thebes came, Where as full soone with glory he atchievde The crowne and scepter of this noble lande 115 By conquering Sphinx, that cruell monster, loe ! That earst destroyde this goodly flouring soyle : And thus did I (O hatefull thing to heare) To my owne sonne become a wretched wife. Ser. No mervayle, though the golden sunne withdrew 120 His glittering beames from suche a sinfull facte. Joe. And so by him that from this belly sprang, I brought to hght (O cursed that I am !) Aswell two sonnes as daughters also twaine : But when this monstrous mariage was disclosde,i25 So fore began the rage of boyling wrath To swell within the furious brest of him, As he him selfe, by stresse of his owne nayles, Out of his head did teare his griefull eyne. Unworthy more to see the shining light. ,^q Ser. How could it be that, knowing he had done So foule a blot, he would remayne alive ? llj Jiouring. Q3, flourishing. 118 /. Q 3 omits. 128 As. MS., That. 148 €iioca0ta [act i. Gio, Non pecca V uom che, non sapendo, in- corre In alcun mal, da cui fuggir non puote : Et egli a maggior suo danno e cordoglio, Et a pena maggior la vita serba : laS Ch' a' miseri la vita apporta noia, E morte e fin delle miserie umane. Ser. Misera ben sovra ogni donna sete ; Tante son le cagion de' vostri mali. Gio. Ecco perche del mal concetto seme 130 Non si sentisse il miser cieco allegro : I due figliuol, da crudelta sospinti, A perpetua prigion dannaro il padre : La 've, in oscure tenebre sepolto, Vive dolente e disperata vita, 13S Sempre maledicendo ambi i figliuoli, E pregando le furie empie d' Inferno Che spirin tal velen nei petti loro, Che questo e quel contro se stesso s' armi ; Scene I.] 3|OCa0ta 149 'Joe. " So deepely faulteth none, the which unwares Doth fall into the crime he can not shunne : " And he (alas !) unto his greater greefe 135 Prolongs the date of his accursed dayes, Knowing that life doth more and more increase The cruel plages of his detested gilte, " Where stroke of griefly death dothe set an ende Unto the pangs of mans increasing payne." 140 Ser, Of others all, moste cause have we to mone Thy wofull smarte (O miserable Queene), Such and so many are thy greevous harmes. Joe. Now to the ende this blinde outrageous fire Should reape no joye of his unnaturall fruite, 145 His wretched sons, prickt foorth by furious spight. Adjudge their father to perpetuall prison : There, buried in the depthe of dungeon darke, Alas ! he leades his discontented life, Accursing still his stony harted sonnes, 150 And wishing all th'infernall sprites of hell To breathe suche poysned hate into their brestes As eche with other fall to bloudy warres. And so with pricking poynt of piercing blade 144 outrageous. MS., outraging. 150 ^iocasfta [Acti. E s' aprano le vene, e del lor sangue 140 Tingano insieme le fraterne mani Tanto, che morto V un e 1' altro cada, E ne vadano a un tempo ai Regni stigi. Ser. Questo, per ben di voi lo tolga Dio. Gio. Ond' essi, per fuggir V empie biasteme, 145 E i fieri voti dell' irato padre, Insieme convenir che per un anno Eteocle, il maggior fratello, in Tebe Tenesse il seggio e la real corona, E in esilio n' andasse Polinice ; 150 II qual finito, a Polinice poi Eteocle cedesse il manto ; e sempre L' un succedendo all' altro, in cotal guisa II Dominio servisse ad ambidoi. Ser. Ahi, che 1' ambizion non puo frenarsi. 155 Gio. Poiche Eteocle fu nel seggio posto, Ebbrio della dolcezza, e del diletto Di regnar solo, il suo fratello escluse Dallo scettro non pur debito a lui. Ma dal natio terren. Che far dovea 160 Dunque il mio figlio dal fratel tradito ? Egli, dolente, si condusse in Argo j Scene!.] 3|0raS^ta I5I To rippe their bowels out, that eche of them 155 With others bloud might strayne his giltie hands, And bothe at once, by stroke of speedie death, Be foorthwith throwne into the Stigian lake. Ser. The mightie Gods prevent so fowle a deede ! Joe. They, to avoyde the wicked blasphemies 160 And sinfull prayer of their angrie sire. Agreed thus : that of this noble realme, Untill the course of one ful yere was runne, Eteocles should sway the kingly mace. And Polynice as exul should departe, 165 Till time expyrde : and then to Polynice Eteocles should yeelde the scepter up : Thus yere by yere the one succeeding other. This royall crowne should unto bothe remayne. Ser. Oh, thunbridled mindes of ambicious men ! 170 Joe. Et [e] ocles, thus plast in princely seate, Drunke with the sugred taste of kingly raigne, Not onely shut his brother from the crowne. But also from his native country soyle. Alas, poore Polynice ! what might he doe, 175 Unjustly by his brother thus betrayed ? To Argos he with sad and heavie cheere Forthwith convayde him selfe,on whom at length 156 strayne. MS., stain. Qi, stayne. 171 Eteocles. MS. and Q2, Etocles. 152 6iocasfta [acti. Dove tanto gli arrise la fortuna, Ch' ivi amicizia, e affinita contrasse Col Re d' Argivi, il qual si chiama Adrasto ; 165 Che, per ripor il genero nel Regno, Ha posto assedio alia citta di Tebe. Quinci e V estremo mal dei miei gran mail : Che vinca qual si vuol de' miei figliuoli. La vittoria a me fia d' angoscia e pianto : 170 E temo, oime, come in tai guerre accade, Che d' uno, o d' ambidoi la morte segua. Onde, perche non intervenga questo. Come pietosa e sconsolata madre, Che non pud non amar sempre i figliuoli, 175 E procurar di quei T utile e '1 bene j Ho fatto si con le preghiere mie, Ch' oggi, che si dovea dar la battaglia Alia cittade, o che le genti nostre Uscissero di fuori alia campagna, 180 Tanto di tregua conceduto m' hanno I due fratelli, anzi nimici fieri, Ch' io tenti, pria che tra lor movan V armi, S' acquetar posso le discordie loro, Assegnandomi a questo un' ora sola. 185 Ser. Picciolo spazio a cosi gran disegno. Gio. E poco fa ch' un mio fidato amico E tornato di campo, et hammi detto Scene!.] 3|OCa0ta 153 With fauning face good fortune smyled so, As with Adrastus, king of Argiv^es there, i8o He founde such favour and affinitie As (to restore my sonne unto his raigne) He hath besiedge this noble citie Thebes, And hence proceedes my most extreme annoye : For, of my sonnes who ever doe prevaile, 185 The victorie will turne unto my griefe. Alas ! I feare (such is the chaunce of warre) That one or both shall purchase death therby. Wherfore to shunne the worst that may befall. Though comfortlesse, yet as a pitifull mother 190 Whom nature binds to love hir loving sonnes. And to provide the best for their availe, I have thought good by prayers to entreate The two brethren, nay rather cruel foes, A while to stale their fierce and furious fight, 195 Till I have tried by meanes for to apease The swelling wrath of their outraging willes ; And so with much to doe at my request They have forborne unto this onely houre. Ser, Small space, [God] wot, to stint so great a strife. 200 Joe. And even right now a trustie man of mine Returned from the campe, enforming me 183 /^-fs/eJ^e. MS., beseedgde. Qi, besedge. Q3, besiegde. 200 God ivot. MS., Qi, G3, god wot. Q2, good wot. 154 €>WCaS?ta [Act I. Che sara tosto in Tebe Polinice. Or delle pene mie la istoria e questa. 190 E perche in vane e inutili querele Non fa bisogno ch' io consumi il tempo ; Faro qui fine alle parole, poi Che '1 mio misero cuor no '1 fa alia doglia. E ti prego che vadi ad Eteocle, 195 E lui da parte mia supplica e prega Ch* ora, per attenermi alia promessa, Se ne venga al palazzo. Io so ch' ei t' ama Piu ch' uom di Tebe, e a tue parole porge (II che t' e noto) volentieri orecchia. 200 Ser. Reina, poich' a tal officio vuole Prestezza ; quanto il vostro ben m' e caro Io mi serbo a mostrar piij con V effetto, Che mostrar non saprei con le parole. Gio. Io ritorno di dentro ; e in questo mezzo 205 Preghero il sommo Dio ch' ei mi consoli Per sua pieta; ch' io misera no '1 merto. Scene I] 31OCa0ta 155 That Polynice will straight to Thebes come ; Thus of my woe this is the wailefull summe. And for bycause in vaine and bootelesse plaintczos I have small neede to spend this litle time, Here will I cease in words more to bewray The restlesse state of my afflicted minde, Desiring thee thou goe to Eteocles, Hartly on my behalf beseching him 210 That out of hand, according to his promise, He will vouchsafe to come unto my courte : I know he loves thee well, and to thy wordes I thinke thou knowst he will give willing eare. Ser. O noble Queene, sith unto such afFayres2i5 My spedie diligence is requisite, I will applie effectually to doe What so your highnesse hath commaunded me. Joe. I will goe in, and pray the gods ther- while With tender pitie to appease my griefe. 220 Jocasta goeth off the stage into hir pallace, hirfoure handmaides follow hir ^ the four e Chorus also follow hir to the gates of hir pallace. After y camming on the stage y take their place, where they continue to the end of the tragedie. 156 ^iocasfta [acti. [SCENA 2.] Servo. Color che i seggi e le reali altezze Ammiran tanto veggono con 1' occhio L' adombrato splendor ch' appar di fuori, Scettri, gemme, corone, aurati panni; Ma non veggon dappoi con 1' intelletto Le penose fatiche, e i gravi afFanni, Le cure, e le molestie, a mille a mille, Che di dentro celate e ascose stanno. Scene II.] 3f!OCa0ta 157 [SCENA 2.] Servus solus. \_Servus^ " The simple man, whose mervalle is so great At stately courts and princes regall seate, With gasing eye but onely doth regarde The golden glosse that outwardly appeares, The crownes bedeckt with pearle and precious stones, 5 The riche attire imbost with beaten Thecoune golde, lively The glittering mace, the pompe of parted. swarming traine. The mightie halles heapt full of flattering frendes, The chambers huge, the goodly gorgeous beddes. The gilted roofes embowde with curious worke, lo The faces sweete of fine disdayning dames, The vaine suppose of wanton raigne at luste — But never viewes with eye of inward thought The painefull toile, the great and grevous cares, The troubles still, the newe increasing feares 15 That princes nourish in their jealous brestes : He wayeth not the charge that Jove hath laid 9 chambers huge. MS., Ql, huge chambers. 11 faces siveete. MS., Qi, sweete faces. 15 The, omitted in Q3. 158 ^tOCaSfta [Act I. Non san che, come il vento e le saette Percuoton sempre le maggiori altezze, 10 Cosi lo stral della fortuna ingiusta Fere piu 1' uom, quanto piu in alto il trova. Ecco : Edipo pur dianzi era Signore Di noi Tebani, e di si bel domin [i] o Stringea superbo, et allentava il freno, 15 Et era formidabile a ciascuno : Ora, siccome prigioniero afflitto, Privo di luce in fiero career chiuso, £ giunto a tal, che ha in odio 1' esser vivo. Quinci i figliuoli hanno rivolte 1' armi ^q L' un contra 1' altro ; e la citta di Tebe £ per cader (se '1 Ciel non la sostiene) Nel grave assedio ond' e per tutto cinta. Ma, nel modo ch' al di la notte segue, Alia felicita va dietro il pianto. 25 14 dominio. O, D, domino. Scene II.] 31OCa0ta 159 On princes, how for themselves they raigne not : He weenes the law must stoope to princely will, But princes frame their noble wills to lawe : 20 He knoweth not that as the boystrous winde Doth shake the toppes of highest-reared towres. So doth the force of frowarde fortune strike The wight that highest sits in haughtie state." Lo, Oedipus, that sometime raigned king 25 Of Thebane soyle, that wonted to sup- presse The mightest prince, and kepe him under checke. That fearefull was unto his forraine foes. Now like a poore afflicted prisoner. In dungeon darke shut up from cheerefull light, 30 In every part so plagued with annoy As he abhorrs to leade a longer life ; By meanes wherof, the one against the other. His wrathfull sonnes have planted all their force. And Thebes here, this auncient worthy towne, 35 With threatning siege girt in on every side. In daunger lyes to be subverted quite. If helpe of hevenly Jove upholde it not. But as darke night succedes the shining day. So lowring griefe comes after pleasant joy. 40 l60 ^iOta^ta [Act I. Ora a quel che m' ha imposto la Reina AfFretto il pie, che forse mov[o] indarno. [ScENA 3.] Bailo di Polinice, Antigone Jjgliuola di Giocasta. Bailo. Gentil figlia d* Edipo, e pia sorella Deir infelice giovane, sbandito Dal suo fratel delle paterne case ; A cui nei puerili e tener' anni Fui (come saper del) bailo e custode j 5 Esci, poiche' 1 concede la Reina, E fa ch' io sappia la cagion ch' adduce Cosi onesta fanciulla a porre il piede Fuor de' secret! suoi piu cari alberghi Or che per tutto la cittade e piena 10 Di soldati, e di bellici istrumenti ; Ne viene a nostre orecchie altro concento, 27 mo'vo, O, D, move. Scene m] JiOtUSitdi l6l Well now the charge hir highnesse did com- maund, I must fulfill, though haply all in vaine. Servus goeth off the stage by the gates called Electrae. Antygoney attended with Hi gentlewomen and hir governoufy commeth out of the Queene hir mothers pallace. [SCENA 3.] Bailo^ Antigone. \Bailo.'\ O gentle daughter of King Oedipus, sister deare to that unhappie wight Whom brothers rage hath reaved of his right, To whom, thou knowst, in yong and tender yeares 1 was a friend and faithfull govenour, Come forth, sith that hir grace hath graunted leave, And let me knowe what cause hath moved nowe So chaste a maide to set hir daintie foote Over the thresholde of hir secrete lodge ? Since that the towne is furnishte every where With men of armes and warlike instrumentes, Unto our eares there commes no other noyse, Servus . . . pallace. In this and subsequent stage-directions, where all the originals read gatesy Hazlitt substitutes gate. 1 62 ^ioca0ta [acti. Ch' annitrir di cavalli, e suon di trombe ; II qual par che, scorrendo in ogni parte, Formi con roche voci sangue e morti. 15 \ Non mostra il Sol quel lucido splendore \ Che suol mostrar, quando conduce il giorno j E le misere donne or vanno insieme Per la mesta Citta cercando tutti I Tempi, e ai Dii porgendo umilemente 20 Onesti voti, e afFettuosi preghi. Antigone. \J amor ch' io porto a Polinice e solo Cagion di questo. Bail. Hai tu figliuola, forse Riparo alcun contra lo sdegno e 1' ira Che giustamente a' nostri danni il move, 25 Per racquistar, poiche ragion non vale. La paterna Citta per forza d' arme ? Ant. Deh, Bailo, potess' io col proprio sangue Far questo beneficio a' miei fratelli ; Ch' io volentier porrei la vita mia 30 Per la pace e union di questi due. Or che far non si puo quel ch' io vorrei, Un ardente desio m' infiamma ogn' ora Scene m.] '^OtUiStU 1 63 But sounde of trumpe and neigh of trampling stedes, Which, running up and downe from place to place, With hideous cries betoken bloude and death : 15 The biasing sunne ne shineth halfe so brighte As it was wont to doe at dawne of day : The wretched dames throughout the wofull towne Together clustring to the temples goe, Beseching Jove, by way of humble plainte, 20 With tender ruthe to pitie their distresse. Antigone, The love I beare to my sweete Polynice, My deare brother, is onely cause hereof. Bai. Why, daughter, knowst thou any rem- edie How to defend thy fathers citie here 25 From that outrage and fierce repyning wrathe Which he against it justly hath conceived ? An, Oh governour, might this my faultlesse bloude SufEse to stay my brethrens dyre debate. With glad content I coulde afford my life 30 Betwixte them both to plant a perfect peace. But since (alas !) I cannot as I woulde, A bote desire enflames my fervent mind 30 content. MS., Qi, consent. 35 i 164 6ioca0ta [acti. Di veder Polinice : ond' io ti prego Che in una delle torri mi conduchi Donde si veggon le nemiche squadre : Che, purch'io pasca alquanto gli occhi miei Delia vista del caro mio fratello ; S' io ne morro dappoi, morro contenta. Bail. Real figliuola, la pieta che serbi 40 ^ Verso il fratello e d' ogni lode degna : Ma brami quel che non si puo ottenere, Per la distanza ch' e dalla cittade Al piano, ove T esercito e accampato. Appresso, non convien ch' una polcella 45 Veder si lassi in luogo, ove fra tanti Nuovi soldati, et uomini da guerra E il buon costume e 1' onesta sbandita. Ma rallegrati pur, che il tuo desio Contento fia tra poco spazio d' ora 50 Senza disturbo alcun, senza fatica : Perocche qui fia tosto Polinice; Ch' ivi pur dianzi ad invitarlo fui, Posciache me '1 commise la Reina ; La qual pur tenta di ridur la pace 55 Fra i due fratei ; che voglia Dio che segua. Scene III.] 3l0CaSfta 1 65 To have a sight of my sweete Polynice. Wherfore (good guide) vouchsafe to guide me up 35 Into some tower about this hugie court, From whence I may behold our enmies campe, Therby at least to feede my hungry eyes But with the sight of my beloved brother : Then if I die, contented shall I die. 40 Bai. O princely dame, the tender care thou takste Of thy deare brother deserveth double praise : Yet crav'st thou that which cannot be obtainde, By reason of the distance from the towne Unto the plaine, where tharmie lies incampte : 45 And, furthermore, besemeth not a maide To shew hir selfe in such unseemly place, Whereas among such yong and lustie troupes Of harebrainde souldiers, marching to and fro. Both honest name and honour is empairde : 50 But yet rejoyce, sith this thy great desire. Without long let, or yet without thy paine, At wishe and will shortly may be fulfillde. For Polynice forthwith will hither come. Even I my selfe was lately at the campe, 55 Commaunded by the Queene to bid him come. Who laboureth still to linke in frendly league Hir jarring sonnes (which happe, so hoped for, Eftsones I pray the gracious gods to graunt) 49 harebrainde. MS., heibrayn. 1 66 €iiOCa0ta [Act I. Jnt. Dunque m' afFermi che fia Polinice Dentro della Citta ? Bail. Tosto il vedrai. Jnt. E chi r afEda, oime, chi V assecura Che da Eteocle ei non riceva oltraggio ? 60 Bail. L' assecura la fede che gli ha dato II fratello, e la tregua ch' ancor dura. Ant. lo temo, lassa, io temo Di qualche rete ascosa Che teso gli abbia il suo crudel fratello. 65 Bail. Fanciulla, io ti vorrei (sasselo Iddio) Recar qualche conforto : ma non posso Darti quel ben ch' i' non possedo ancora. La cagion, ch' Eteocle e Polinice Conduce, come intendi, all' odio e all' armi, 70 £ troppo grande : e gia per questa molti Hanno senza alcun fren rotte le leggi, E sottosopra le Citta rivolte. Troppo, figliuola mia, troppo possente f Scene IH] 3|OCa0ta 1 67 And sure I am that, ere this houre passe, 60 Thou shalt him here in person safely see. Jnti. O loving frend, doest thou then war- rant me That Polynice will come unto this court ? Bai. Ere thou be ware, thou shalt him here beholde. Anti. And who (alas) doth warrant his adven- ture, 65 That of Eteocles he take no harme ? Bai. For constant pledge he hath his broth- ers faith. He hath also the truce that yet endures. Jn. I feare, alas, alas, I greatly feare Some trustlesse snare his cruell brother layes 70 To trappe him in. Bai. Daughter, God knowes how willing I would be With sweete reliefe to comforte thy distresse, But I cannot impart to thee the good Which I my selfe doe not as yet enjoye. 75 The wailefull cause that moves Eteocles With Polynice to enter civil warres Is overgreat, and for this onely cause Full many men have broke the lawes of truth. And topsieturvie turned many townes. 80 " To gredie (daughter), too too gredie is 71 To . . . in. MS. adds ( — ) at the end of this line. 1 68 ^iocasita [acti. E il desio di regnar, ne ben comporta 75 Chi solo e in Signoria di aver compagno : Pur non bisogna diffidarsi punto Dell' aiuto dei Dii, perocch' ei sono Giusti e pietosi : e, lor mercede, fanno Quello per noi che pud umana forza. 80 Jnt. Ambi son miei fratelli, et ambedoi Gli amo, quanto piu amar sorella deve. Ma r ingiuria ch' ha fatto a Polinice Questo crudel, ch' ha efFetto di tiranno, M' induce ad amar piii la vita e '1 bene 85 Di Polinice, ch' i' non fo di lui : Oltre ch', essendo Polinice in Tebe, Mostro sempre ver me pid caldo amore, Che non fee' egli ; a cui par ch' io mi sia Caduta in odio : anzi io mi sono accorta 90 Che vorria non vedermi, e forse pensa Tormi di vita ; e, Io fara, potendo. Onde questa da me bramata nuova M' e cara pel desio ch' ho di vederlo ; Ma la tema del mal, quanto piu 1' amo, 95 Tanto pill il dolce mio cangia in amaro. Scene HI.] ^OtU&tn 1 69 Desire to rule and raigne in kingly state." Ne can he bide that swaise a realme alone To have another joynde with him therein : Yet must we hope for helpe of heavenly powers, 85 Sith they be juste, their mercy is at hande To helpe the weake, when worldly force doth faile. Jn. As both my brethren be, so both I beare As much good will as any sister may; But yet the wrong that unto Polynice 90 This trothlesse tyrant hath unjustlie shewd Doth lead me more to wishe the prosperous life Of Polynice than of that cruell wretch. Besides that, Polynice, whiles he remainde In Thebes here, did ever love me more 95 Than did Eteocles, whose swelling hate Is towards me increased more and more : Wherof I partely may assure my selfe. Considering he disdaynes to visite me. Yea, happly he intends to reave my life, 100 And having power he will not sticke to doe it. This therefore makes me earnestly desire Oft tymes to see him : yet ever as I thinke For to discharge the duetie of a sister. The feare I have of hurt doth chaunge as fast 105 My doubtfull love into disdainefull spight. S^ powers. MS. puts (.) instead of (,) at end of line. 170 6ioca0ta [acti. Bail. Pur dei, figliuola mia, sperar in Giove Ch' ei non vorra che, per cagion d'un rio, • Patisca insieme la bonta di molti : I Dico di te, dico di Polinice, loo Di Giocasta tua madre, e parimente Delia diletta tua sorella Ismene ; La qual, benche non si lamenti, o pianga, Non pero stimo che le prema il core Minor molestia. Jnt. Appresso mi spaventa 105 Certo sospetto (io non so donde nato) Ch* ho preso gia piii di sopra Creonte, II fratel di mia madre. Io temo lui Piii ch' io non fo d' altro periglio. Bail. Lascia, Figlia, questi sospetti : e poiche 'n breve no Polinice vedrai, ritorna dentro. Jnt. Caro a me in questo mezzo intender fora L* ordine dell' esercito : e se questo E tal, che basti ad espugnarne Tebe ; Che grado tien il mio fratello, e dove 115 Scene ni] ^Otn&tU 171 Bai. Yet, daughter, must ye trust in mightie Jove, His will is not that for thofFence of one So many suffer undeserv^ed smarte : I meane of thee, I meane of Polynice, no Of Jocasta, thy wofull aged mother. And of Ismena, thy beloved sister, Who, though for this she doth not outwardly From drearie eyen distill lamenting teares, Yet do I thinke no lesse aflicting griefe 115 Doth inwardly torment hir tender brest. j^n. Besides all this, a certaine jelousie, Lately conceyvde (I know not whence it springs) Of Creon, my mothers brother, appaules me much. Him doubt I more than any danger else. 120 Bai. Deare daughter, leave this foolishe jelousie. And seeing that thou shalt heere shortly finde Thy brother Polynice, go in agayne. Jn. O joy full would it be to me therwhile To understande the order of the hoste, 125 Whether it be such as have sufficient power To overthrowe this mightie towne of Thebes. What place supplies my brother Polynice ? 126 TFhether. Marked "r^aiif" in *< Faultes escaped correc- tion," Qi, but Q2, Q3 leave it unchanged. 172 ^iocasfta [acti. Trovato V hai, e quai parole ei disse. E benche non convien si fatta cura Alia mia giovenil tenera etade; Nondimeno, perch' io mi trovo ancora Cosi del ben, come del male a parte 120 Delia cittade, e della casa nostra, Son vaga di saper quel ch' io non posso Intender, ne saper per altra lingua. Bail. Io lodo cosi bello alto desio, Magnanima fanciulla : e brevemente 125 Te ne soddisfero del tutto a pieno, La gente ch' ha condotto Polinice, Di cui n' e Capitan, siccome quello Ch' e genero d' Adrasto, Re d' Argivi, E il fior di Grecia ; e tanta, ch' io non veggo 130J Siccome possan sostenere i nostri Si grosso incontro, e cosi grave assalto. Giunto ch' io fui nel campo, ritrovai L' esercito ordinato, e tutto in armi, Come volesse allor dar la battaglia 135 Alia Cittade. L' ordine diviso E in sette schiere j e di quelle ciascuna E di buon Capitan posta in governo. A ognun de' Capitani e dato cura D' espugnar una porta : che ben sai 140 Che la nostra Cittade ha sette porte. Scene m.] 3l0CaS?ta 173 Where founde ye him ? what ansvvere did he give ? And though so great a care perteineth not 130 Unto a mayde of my unskill [full] yeres, Yet, forbicause my selfe partaker am Of good and evill with this my countreysoyle, I long to heare thee tell those fearefull newes, Which otherwise I cannot understand. 135 Bai. So noble a desire (O worthy dame) I much commende : and briefly as I can Will satisfie thy hungry minde herein. The power of men that Polynice hath brought (Whereof he, being Adrastus sonne in lawe, 140 Takes chiefest charge) is even the floure of Grece, Whose hugie traine so mightie seemes to be, As I see not how this our drouping towne Is able to withstand so strong a siege. Entring the fielde, their armie did I iinde 145 So orderly in forme of battaile set. As though they would forthwith have given the charge. In battailes seaven the host devided is. To eche of which, by order of the king, A valiant knight for captaine is assignde ; 15° And as you know this citie hath seven gates, So everie captaine hath his gate prescribde, 131 unsktllfull, MS., Qi. Q2, Q3, unskiU. 1 74 ^ioca^ta [act i. Poich' io passai fra le nemiche genti, (Che secure mi fer V usate insegne D'Ambasciator) appresso il Re trovai Polinice di ricche armi guernito, 145 A cui largo facea cerchio d' intorno Piu d' un Signer, e coronata testa. Com' ei mi vide, si cangio nel volto; E, a guisa di figliuol, benignamente Mi cinse il collo, e mi bacio la fronte. 150 Inteso poi quel che chiedea la madre, Mostrando quanto era di pace vago, Disse ch' egli verria nella Cittade : Mi domando d' Antigone, e d' Ismene ; E commise ch* a te, piu ch' ad altrui, 155 Recassi a nome suo pace e salute. Jnt. Deh, piaccia al Ciel di far contento lui Del patrio Regno, e me della sua vista. Bail. Non pill, figliuola : omai ritorna dentro ; Ch' onor non e della Reale altezza 160 Ch' alcun ti vegga a parlamento fuori : Perocche '1 volgo, alle calunnie intento, 144 Ambasciator. O, imbasciator. Scene m.l 3lOCa0ta 175 With fierce assault to make his entrie at. And further, passing through our frouning foes (That gave me countnaunce of a messanger), 155 Harde by the king I spied Polynice In golden glistring armes most richely cladde, Whose person many a stately prince enpalde, And many a comely crowned head enclosde : At sight of me his colour straight he chaungde, 160 And like a loving childe, in clasped armes He caught me up, and frendly kist my cheke. Then hearing what his mother did demaunde, With glad consent according to hir hest Gave me his hand, to come unto the court, 165 Of mutuall truce desirous so he seemde ; He askt me of Antygone and Ismena, But chiefelie unto thee above the rest He gave me charge most heartly to commend him. An. The gods give grace he may at length possesse 170 His kingly right, and I his wished sight. Ba'i. Daughter, no more, 'tis time ye nowe returne. It standes not with the honor of your state Thus to be scene suspiciously abrode : " For vulgar tongues are armed evermore 1^5 173 standes. MS., standith. 176 ^ioca0ta [acti. Sta sempre armato, per macchiar la fama D' onesta donna: e s' egli avvien che trovi Picciola occasion, 1' accresce tanto, 165 Che n' empie di rumor tutte 1' orecchie : £ '1 grido d' onesta che dl voi s' ode E qual tenero fior, ch' ad ogni fiato Di picciol' aura s' ammarcisce e muore. Ritorna ; che io n' andro per questa via 170 Ad incontrar, s' io posso, Polinice. CORO. Se, come ambiziosa e ingorda mente Noi miseri mortali Diverse cose a desiar accende, Scene m.] J^OtdiSHU 1 77 With slaunderous brute to bleamishe the re- noume Of vertues dames, which though at first it spring Of slender cause, yet doth it swell so fast, As in short space it filleth everie eare ^ i^g With swifte reporte of undeserved for yong blame : ^■°"^^"- You cannot be to curious of your name : Fond shewe of evill (though still the minde be chast) Decayes the credite oft that ladies had. Sometimes the place presumes a wanton mynde : Repayre sometymes of some doth hurt their honor : 185 Sometimes the light and garishe proude attire Persuades a yelding bent of pleasing youthes." The voyce that goeth of your unspotted fame Is like a tender floure, that with the blast Of everie litle winde doth fade away. 190 Goe in, deere childe ; this way will I goe see. If I can meete thy brother Polynice. Antigone y with hir maides, returneth into hir mothers pallace ; hir governour goeth out by the gates Homoloydes. Chorus. If greedie lust of mans ambitious eye (That thirsteth so for swaye of earthly things) 177 vertues. MS., vertuous. 1 78 (3iOa&tn [Act I. Cosi sapesse antiveder i mali, E quel che parimente Giova air umana vita, e quel ch' ofFende : Tal piange oggi, e riprende Fortuna chi gioioso e lieto fora : Perocche con prudente accorto ciglio S' armeria di consiglio, Di quanto porge il Ciel contento ogn* ora ; Laddove avvien che con non poco afFanno Quel piu si cerca ch' e piu nostro danno. Alcun di questo umil fugace bene, Che si chiama bellezza, Superbo ando, che sospiro dappoi : Altri bramo dominio, altri ricchezza, E n' ebbe angoscie e pene, O vide acerbo fine ai giorni suoi : Perche non e fra noi State di cui fidar si possa alcuno. 14 Alcun. O, cun, but corrected in ** Printers' Errors " at end of that edition, and in text of D. Chorus.] 3|OCa0ta 179 Would eke foresee what mischefes growe therby, What carefull toyle to quiet state it brings, What endlesse griefe from such a fountaine springs: _ 5 Then should he swimme in seas of sweete de- light, That novve complaines of fortunes cruell spight. For then he would so safely shielde himselfe With sacred rules of wisdomes sage advise. As no alluring trayne of trusties pelfe lo To fonde afFectes his fancie should entise ; Then warie heede would quickly make him wise : Where contrary (such is our skillesse kind) We most doe seeke that most may hurt the minde. Amid the troupe of these unstable toyes, 15 Some fancies, loe, to beautie must be bent ; Some hunt for wealth, and some set all their joyes In regall power of princely governement ; Yet none of these from care are cleane exempt : For either they be got with grievous toyle, 20 Or in the end forgone with shamefull foyle. This flitting world doth firmely nought re- tame Wherein a man may boldly rest his trust ; 13 Where, MS., When. 16 must. MS., Qi, most. i8o ^ioca^ta [acti. Quinci 1' instabil Diva in un momento Volge ogni uman contento, E n' invola i diletti ad uno ad uno : Talche tutto '1 gioir che '1 cor n' ingombra 25 A par delle miserie e fumo et ombra. Da grave error fu circondato e cinto Quei che tranquilla vita Pose nella volgar piu bassa gente. Quando la luce a chi regge e sparita, 30 A noi si asconde il giorno, E sdegna il Sol mostrarsi in Oriente : Ne puo si leggermente II Principe patir ruina, o scempio, Che '1 suddito meschin non senta il danno : 35 E di cio d'anno in anno Scopre il viver uman piij d' uno esempio. Cos! delle pazzie de' Real petti j Ne portano il flagel sempre i soggetti. ' Ecco siccome voglia empia, e perversa 40. D' esser soli nel Regno L' uno e r altro fratello all' arme ha spinto : Ma Polinice con piu onesto sdegno Move gente diversa Contra la patria : onde ne giace estinto Chorus] 31OCa0ta l8l Such fickle chaunce in fortune doth remaine, As when she lust, she threatneth whom she lust, 25 From high renoume to throwe him in the dust : Thus may we see that eche triumphing joye Bv fortunes froune is turned to annoye. Those elder heades may well be thought to erre The which for easie life and quiet dayes 30 The vulgar sorte would seeme for to preferre. If glorious Phoebe with-holde his glistring rayes From such a peere as crowne and scepter swayes. No mervaile though he hide his heavenly face From us that come of lesse renoumed race. 35 Selde shall you see the ruine of a Argumentum prince, ^ '^''^°''^' But that the people eke like brunt doe beare. And old recordes of auncient time long since. From age to age, yea almost everie where. With proofe herof hath glutted every eare : 40 Thus bv the follies of the princes hart The bounden subject still receiveth smart. Loe, how unbrideled lust of privat raigne Hath pricked both the brethren unto warre ; Yet Polynice, with signe of lesse disdaine, ^^ Against this lande hath brought from countries farre 24 fickle. MS., ficklie. 1 82 ^iocasfta [actl Nel cor di velen tinto II debito, r amor, e la pietate : E, vinca chi si vuol de' due fratelli ; Noi Donne, e tutti quelli Di Tebe, sentirem la crudeltate 50 Di Marte, che Taspetto ad ambi ha mostro, Per tinger la sua man nel sangue nostro. Ma tu, figlio di Semele, e di Giove, Che I'orgogliose prove Vincesti de' Giganti empi e superbi, 55 Difendi il popol tuo supplice pio, Che te sol cole, e te conosce Dio. Chorus.] ^lOCafifta 1 83 A forraine power to end this cruell jarre, Forgetting quite the dutie, love, and zeale He ought to beare unto this common weale. But whosoever gets the victorie, 50 We wretched dames, and thou, O noble towne ! Shall feele therof the wofull miserie : Thy gorgeous pompe, thy glorious high re- noume, Thy stately towers and all shal fall a downe, Sith raging Mars will cache of them assist 55 In others brest to bathe his bloudie fist. But thou, *0 Sonne of Semel and of ^„ ^ _ ' * Bacchus. Jove, That tamde the proude attempt of giaunts strong. Doe thou defende, even of thy tender love, Thy humble thralls from this afflict- „ , ^ . Bacchus was mg wrong, the god whom Whom wast of warre hath now tor- they most mented long : ^^^^'^^ ^ So shall we never faile, ne day ne night. With reverence due thy prayses to resight. Finis Actus primi. Done by F. Kinwelmarshe. The order of the second dumbe shewe. Before the beginning of this seconde Acte dyd sound a very dolefull noise of flutes : during the which there came in upon the stage two coffines covered with hearclothes, and brought in by viii in mourning weed, and accompanied with viii 5 other mourners : and after they had caried the coffins about the stage, there opened and ap- peared a grave, wherin they buried the coffins, and put fire to them; but the flames did sever and parte in twaine, signifying discord by the 10 history of two brethren, whose discord in their hfe was not onely to be wondred at, but, being buried both in one tombe (as some writers af- firme), the flames of their funeralls did yet parte the one from the other in like maner, and 15 would in no wise joyne into one flame. After the funerals were ended and the fire consumed, the grave was closed up again, the mourners withdrew them off the stage, and immediately, by the gates Homoloydes entred Pollinyces, ac- 20 5 iveed. Q3, weeds. il two. MS., the two. ©1)0 orDer of tlje 0econtJ Dumbe sfljetDe 185 companied with vi gentlemen and a page that carried his helmet and target ; he and his men unarmed saving their gorgets, for that they were permitted to come into the towne in time of truce, to the end Jocasta might bring the two 25 brethren to a parle : and Pollinyces, after good regard taken round about him, speake as fol- oweth. Atto Secondo [SCENA I.] Polinicet Coro, Giocasta. Polinice, Questa e pur la Citta propria e natia : Questo e il paterno mio diletto nido. Ma, bench' io sia tra le mie stesse case, E 'nsieme securta me ne abbia data Colui che gode le sostanze mie, 5 Non debbo camminar senza sospetto ; Poich' ove e '1 mio fratello, ivi bisogna Ch' io tema piij, che fra nemiche genti. £ ver che, mentre nella destra mano Sostengo questa giusta e invitta spada, lo S' io morro, non morro senza vendetta. Ma ecco il santo Asilo, ecco di Bacco La veneranda Immago, ecco 1' altare. La dove il sacro foco arde e risplende ; E dove nel passato al nostro Dio i5 Tante gia di mia man vittime offersi. Veggo dinanzi un onorato coro Di donne ; e sono appunto della corte Di Giocasta mia madre. Ecco siccome Actus 2. Scena i. Polinices, Chorus. \_LaUr'j Jocasta, Eteocles. \_Polinices.'] Loe, here mine owne citie and native soyle, Loe, here the nest I ought to nestle in ! Yet, being thus entrencht with mine owne towres. And that from him the safeconduct is given, Which doth enjoye as much as mine should be, 5 My feete can treade no step without suspect : For where my brother bides, even there behoves More warie scout than in an enmies campe. Yet while I may within this right hand holde This (*) bronde, this blade (unyelden ever Sworde. yet), ^ 10 My life shall not be lefte without revenge. But here beholde the holy sancturie. Of Bacchus eke the worthie image : loe The aultars where the sacred flames have shone. And where of yore these giltlesse hands of mine 15 Full oft have offered to our mightie gods. I see also a worthie companie Of Thebane dames, resembling unto me The traine of Jocasta, my deare mother : 1 88 ^ioras^ta [actii. Son vestite di panni oscuri e negri, 20 Color ch' altrove mai, per altri danni, A' miseri non fur conforme tanto; Ch' in breve si vedran (merce del folle E temerario ardir del suo Tiranno) Prive, altre de' figliuoli, altre de' padri, 15 Et altre de* mariti, e amici cari. Ma tempo e di ripor la spada, e 'nsieme Dimandar lor della Reina. Donne Meste e infelici, dove senza voi £ la Reina misera di Tebe ? 30 Coro. Del nostro Re figlio, o Signer caro, Ch' a noi tornate dopo tanti giorni, La venuta di voi felice sia, E renda pace alia Citta turbata. O Reina, o Reina, uscite fuori : 35 Ecco r amato figlio, Ecco il frutto gentil del vostro seme. Scene I] ^OCdi^tH 1 89 Beholde them clad in clothes of griesly blacke, 20 That hellishe hewe that (*) nay for other Never. harmes So well besemed wretched wightes to weare : For why ? Ere long their selves, themselves shall see (Gramercy to their princes tyrannic) Some spoyled of their sweete and sucking babes, 25 Some lese their husband, other some their sire. And some their friends that were to them full dere. But now tis time to lay the sworde aside. And eke of them to knowe where is the Queene : O worthie dames ! heavie, unhappie ye ! 30 Where resteth now the restlesse queene of Thebes ? Chorus. O worthie impe, sprong out of wor- thie race, Renoumed prince, whom wee have lookt for long. And nowe in happie houre arte come to us, Some quiet bring to this unquiet realme. 35 O queene, O queene, come foorth and see thy Sonne, The gentle frute of all thy joyfull seede. Sivorde. Never. Qz reverses the order of the two side-notes j the mistake is corrected in Q3. 28 the. MS., Qi, this. 30 ye. MS., you. 190 ^ioca0ta [act 11. Giocasta. Care gentili amiche, Dilette e fide ancelle, lo movo al suon delle parole vostre 40 I debol piedi, io movo, Non men per duol, che per vecchiezza, tarda. Ov' e 1' amato figlio, ov' e colui, Per cui meno in sospir le notti, e i giorni ? Pol. Madre, egli e qui, non come cittadino, 45 E Re di Tebe, ma come conviensi A peregrin, merce di suo fratello. Gio. O bramato da me dolce figliuolo : Io ti miro, io ti tocco, e appena il credo. Appena il petto mio puo sostenere 50 L' insperata letizia che T ingombra. ! O caro aspetto, ove me stessa io veggio. Coro, Si vi conceda Dio di veder ambi Per comun bene i vostri figli amici. ^'j peregrin. O, pellegrin. di. O, del. j I Scene I.] 3!OCa0ta IQI [^Enter Jocasta.~\ Jocasta. My faith full frends, my deare be- loved maydes, I come at call, and at your wordes I move My feebled feete with age and agonie : 40 Where is my sonne ? O tell me, where is he For whome I sighed have so often syth, For whom I spende both nightes and dayes in teares ? Pol. Here, noble mother, here ! not as the king. Nor as a citizen of stately Thebes, 45 But as a straunger nowe, I thanke my brother. Joe. O Sonne ! O sweete and my desyred Sonne ! These eyes thee see, these handes of myne thee touche, Yet scarsly can this mynde beleeve the same. And scarsly can this brused breast susteyne 50 The sodeyne joye that is inclosde therein : O gladsome glasse, wherein I see my selfe ! Chor. So graunt the gods that, for our com- mon good. You frendly may your sonnes both frendes be- holde. 48 thee see. Qq, they see. MS. puts they in both cases, but the y was afterwards marked out. 53 ^hat. Q2, Q3 omit. 192 ^ioca^ta [actii. Gio. Tu col tuo dipartir lasciasti, o figlio, 55 La tua casa dolente, e me tua madre Colma d' ogni martir, piangendo sempre L' indegno esilio che '1 fratel ti diede. Ne fu, figliuol, mai desiato tanto Da' cari amici suoi lontano amico, 60 Quanto il ritorno tuo da tutta Tebe. Ma, per parlar di me, piu che d' altrui ; lo, (come veder puoi) disposti avendo I real panni, in abito lugubre Tenute ho sempre queste membra invoke : 65 Ne da quest' occhi e uscito altro, che pianto: E '1 vecchio padre tuo, misero, e cieco, Poiche intese la guerra ch' e fra voi, Pentito al fin d' aver pregato i Dii Pill volte, e piii per la rovina vostra, 70 Ha voluto finir miseramente O con laccio, o coltel 1' odiata vita. Tu in tanto, figliuol mio, fatt' hai dimora In lontani paesi, e preso moglie, Scene I.] ^Otdi&tZ 193 Joe. At thy departe, O lovely chylde, thou lefte 55 My house in teares, and mee, thy wretched dame, Myrrour of martirdome, (*) waymenting * Lament- still ing. Th'unworthie exile thy brother to thee gave : Ne was there ever sonne or friende farre off, Of his deare frendes or mother so desyred 60 As thy returne in all the towne of Thebes. And of my selfe more than the rest to speake, I have, as thou mayste see, cleane cast asyde My princely roabes, and thus in wofull weede Bewrapped have these lustlesse limmes of myne : 65 Naught else but teares have trickled from myne eyes ; And eke thy wretched, blynde and aged syre, Since first he hearde what warre tweene you there was, As one that did his bitter cursse repent. Or that he prayed to Jove for your decaye, yo With stretching string or else with bloudie knyfe Hath sought full ofte to ende his loathed lyfe. Thou this meane whyle, my sonne, hast lingred long In farre and forreyn coastes, and wedded eke, 57 waymenting. MS., lamentyng. 58 to. MS. omits. 194 €iioca0ta [acth. Onde di pellegrine nozze attendi, 75 Quando piacera al Ciel, figliuoli e prole : II che m' e grave, e molto piu, figliuolo, Che potuto non m' ho trovar presente, E fornir quell' officio che conviene A buona madre : ma, perocch' intendo g© Che questo maritaggio e di te degno, 10 ti vo' confortar pietosamente Che torni ad abitar la tua Cittade; Che ben e per la moglie, e per te fia Comodo albergo. T' esca omai di mente 85 L' ofFesa del fratello : e sappi, o figlio, Che d' ogni mal ch' abbia a seguir tra voi A me stessa verra la pena e '1 duolo : Ne potrete segnar si leggermente Le vostre carni, che la mano, e '1 ferro 90 Non apra insieme a questa vecchia il petto. Coro. Amor non e che s' appareggia quelle Che la pietosa madre ai figli porta ; 11 qual tanto piu cresce, quanto in essi Scema il contento, e crescono gli affanni. 95 Scene I.] 3(lOCa0ta 195 By whome thou mayste(when heavens appoyntes it so) 75 Straunge issue have by one a stranger borne, Whiche greeves me sore, and much the more, deare chylde, Bicause I was not present at the same. There to performe thy loving mothers due. But for I fynde thy noble matche so meete, 80 And woorthie bothe for thy degree and byrthe, I seeke to comforte thee by myne advise. That thou returne this citie to inhabite, Whiche best of all may seeme to be the bowre, Bothe for thy selfe and for thy noble spouse. 85 Forget thou then thy brothers injuries. And knowe, deare chylde, the harme of all misse- hap That happes twixt you, must happe likewise to mee : Ne can the cruell sworde so slightly touche Your tender fleshe, but that the selfe same wounde 9° Shall deepely bruse this aged brest of myne. Cho. " There is no love may be comparde to that The tender mother beares unto hir chyld : For even somuche the more it dothe encrease. As their griefe growes or contentations cease." 95 75 appoyntes. MS., appoint. 196 ^ioca^ta [actii. Pol. Madre, io non so se d' aver lod' io merto ; Che, per piacer a voi, cui piacer debbo, Mi sia condotto in man de' miei nemici, Ma sforzato e ciascun (voglia, o non voglia) La patria amar : e s' altrimente dice, 100 Ben con la lingua il cor non e conforme. Questo me, dopo V obbligo di figlio. Ha indotto, madre, a non prezzar la vita ; Perche dal mio fratel sperar non posso Altro ch' insidie e tradimenti, e forza. 105 Con tutto cio ritrar non m' ha potuto Ne pericol presente, ne futuro, Ch' io rimanessi d' ubbidire a voi. Ma non posso veder senza mia doglia I paterni palazzi, e i santi altari, no E i cari alberghi ove nudrito i' fui ; Da' quai spinto, e cacciato indegnamente, Nelle case d' altrui faccio dimora. Ma, siccome da verde e fresca pianta Novi rampolli un sopra 1' altro nasce ; 115 Cosi air interno mio grave tormento Un se n' aggiunge, e forse anco maggiore. Quest' e il veder voi, mia diletta madre, Ricoperta di panni atri e funesti, Scene I.J J^OtU&U 197 Poi. I knowe not, mother, if I prayse deserve (That you to please, whome I ought not dis- please) Have traynde my selfe among my trustlesse foes : But nature drawes (whether he will or nill) Eche man to love his native countrey soyle : loo And who shoulde say that otherwise it were, His toung should never with his hearte agree. This hath me drawne, besyde my bounden due, To set full light this lucklesse lyfe of myne : For of my brother what may I else hope 105 But traynes of treason, force and falshoode bothe ? Yet neyther perill present nor to come Can holde me from my due obedience : I graunte I can not grieflesse wel beholde My fathers pallace, the holie aultars, no Ne lovely lodge wherin I fostred was : From whence driven out and chaste unworthily, I have to long aboade in forreyn coastes : And as the growing greene and pleasant plante Dothe beare freshe braunches one above another, 115 Even so amidde the huge heape of my woes. Doth growe one grudge more greevous than the rest. To see my deare and dolefull mother cladde In mourning tyre, to tyre hir mourning minde, 110 t^e- Hazlitt, and the. 198 ^iocas?ta [act 11. Misera sol per la miseria mia. 120 Cosi place al fratello, anzi nimico : Ben vedrete vol tosto come al mondo Nimicizia non e che vada eguale A quella che produce fra' congiunti, Per qualunque cagion, disdegno ed ira. 125 Ma sallo Dio quanto per voi mi duole, E del misero stato di mio padre : E desio di saper qual vita tiene L' una e 1' altra di me cara sorella, E qual r esilio mio lor porge afFanno. 130 Gio. Ahi, che 1' ira di Giove abbatte e strugge La progenie d'Edipo. La cagione Prima furon le nozze di tuo padre, Dappoi (deh, perche tocco le mie piaghe ?) Me partorito aver, voi 1' esser nati : 135 Ma quel che vien dal Ciel soffrir bisogna. Ben grato mi saria di dimandarti D' alcune cose ; e non vorrei, figliuolo, Che le parole mie ti fosser gravi. Pol. Dite pur, madre mia, quel che v' aggrada : 140 Che quanto place a voi tanto a me place. Gio. Non pare a te che sia gravoso male Scene I.] '^OCRStU 1 99 Wretched alonely for my wretchednesse ; 120 So lykes that enimie, my brother, best : Soone shall you see that in this wandring worlde No enmitie is equall unto that That dark disdayne (the cause of every evill) Dooth breede full ofte in consanguinitie. 125 But Jove, he knowes what dole I doe endure For you and for my fathers wretched woe, And eke how deepely I desire to knowe What wearie lyfe my loving sisters leade, And what anoye myne absence them hath given. 130 yoc. Alas, alas, howe wrekefull wrath of gods Doth still afflicte Oedipus progenie : Thy fyrste cause w^as thy fathers wicked bedde. And then (oh, why doe I my plagues recompte ?) My burden borne and your unhappie birth : 135 " But needes we must with pacient heartes abyde What so from high the heavens doe provide." With thee, my chylde, fayne would I question yet Of certaine things : ne woulde I that my wordes Might thee anoye, ne yet renewe thy griefe. 140 Po/. Saye on, deare mother, say what so you please : What pleaseth you shall never mee disease. jfoc. And seemes it not a heavie happe, my Sonne, 200 ^ioca^ta [act ii. L' esser, figliuol, della sua patria privo ? Pol. Gravoso si, che non puo dirsi appieno. Gio. E quale e la cagion che piu molesti 145 L' uomo, quando in esilio si ritrova ? Pol. La liberta che con la patria perde, E '1 non aver di ragionar licenza Senza rispetto alcun quel che gli pare. Gio. Al servo, figliuol mio, non e concesso 150 Scoprir 1' animo suo senza periglio. Pol. Ciascun esule, o sia libero, o sia D' alta stirpe disceso, e al servo eguale : Perocche suo mal grado gli conviene Obbedir alle voglie di ciascuno, 155 E lodar le pazzie di chi comanda. Gio. E questo pare a te tanto molesto ? Pol. Non e doglia maggior ch' esser forzato Servir a chi non dee contra 1' onesto ; E molto pill, quando si trova 1' uomo 160 Nobile o per istirpe, o per virtute, Et abbia a nobilta conforme il core. Scene I] JIOCaSftH 201 To be deprived of thy countrey coastes ? Pol. So heavie happe as toung can not ex- presse. 145 Joe. And what may moste molest the Exile an ex- mynde of man ceding { •! 1 r u- • gnete to an [That] IS exiled trom his native honest SOyle ? mynde. Pol. The libertie hee with his countrey loste, " And that he lacketh freedome for to speake What seemeth best, without control! or checke." 150 Joe. Why so ? eche servant lacketh libertie To speake his minde without his maisters leave. Pol. " In exile every man, or bonde or ^^ ^ j^g free, are like Of noble race or meaner parentage, bondmen. Is not in this unlike unto the slave, 155 That muste of force obey to eche mans will, And prayse the peevishnesse of eche mans pryde." Joe. And seemed this so grievous unto thee ? Pol. What griefe can greater be, than so constraynde Slavelike to serve gaynst right and reason bothe, 160 Yea, muche the more to him that noble is By stately lyne or yet by vertuous lyfe, And hath a heart lyke to his noble mynde. \^j That. Q2, This. T/iar in MS., Qi, and Q3. 202 i&iOtn&tn [Act II. Gio. Nella miseria sua chi lo mantiene ? Pol. La speranza de' miseri conforto. Gio. Speranza di tornar ond' e cacciato ? 165 Po/. Speme che troppo tarda ; e alcuna volta Ne muore 1' uom, pria che sortisca efFetto. Gio. E come, figliuol mio, nanzi alle nozze Sostenevi lontan la propria vita ? Pol. Trovava pur, benche di rado, alcuno 170 Che, cortese e benigno, compartiva Qualche poco ahmento al viver mio. Gio. Non ti porgeano a tal bisogno aita Gli amici di te stesso, e di tuo padre ? Pol. E sciocco, madre mia, sciocco e chi crede 175 Nelle miserie sue trovar amici. Gio. Ti doveva giovar la nobiltade. Pol. Ahi, che la poverta la copre e oscura. Gio. Esser dee sempre alii mortali adunque, Pill che tutti i tesor, la patria cara. 180 Scene I] ^Ot^&tdi 203 yoc. What helpeth moste in suche p^^ ^ ^^ adversitie ? help in Po/. Hope helpeth moste to comfort miserye. miserie. 165 yoc. Hope to returne from whence he fyrst was driven ? Pol. Yea, hope that happeneth oftentymes to late, And many die before such hap may fall. Joe. And howe didst thou before thy manage, Sonne, Mainteyne thy lyfe, a straunger so bestad ? 170 Pol. Sometyme I founde (though seldome so it were) Some gentle heart that coulde for curtesye Contente himselfe to succour myne estate. yoc. Thy fathers friends and thyne, did they not helpe For to releeve that naked neede of thyne ? 175 Pol. " Mother, he hath a foolishe Few frends fantasie >n miserye. That thinkes to fynd a frende in miserie." yoc. Thou mightest have helpe by thy no- bilitie. Pol. " Covered, alas, in cloake of povertie ! " yoc. " Wei ought we then, that are but mortall heere, 180 Above all treasure counte our countrey deare : " 181 our. Q3, your. 204 ^ioca^ta [act h. Ora io vorrei saper, dolce figliuolo, Per qual cagion ti conducesti in Argo. Pol. Mi mosse a cio la fama, ch' all' orecchie Mi rapporto che Adrasto, Re d' Argivi, Aveva inteso dagli Oracol come 185 Due figliuole, che belle, e sole aveva Congiungerebbe in matrimonio tosto A un Leone e a un Cinghial : cosa, che tutto Gli empi V animo e '1 cor di maraviglia. Gio. A te che appartenian questi animali? 190 Pol. Io presi augurio dall' insegna mia, La qual, come sapete, e d' un Leone : Benche io posso afFermar che solo Giove Mi conducesse a cosi gran ventura. Gio. Come avvenne, o figliuol, si raro effetto ? 195 Pol. Era sparito in ogni parte il giorno, E la terra adombrava oscuro velo ; Quand' io, cercando ove alloggiar la notte Dopo lungo cammin, stanco pervenni A una picciol loggetta che congiunta 200 Era di fuori alle superbe mura Delia ricca citta del vecchio Adrasto : Scene I] JlOCH^ta 205 Yea, let me knowe, my sonne, what cause thee moved To goe to Grece ? Pol. The flying fame that thundred in myne eares, How king Adrastus, governour of Greece, 185 Was answered by oracle, that he Shoulde knitte in linkes of lawfull mariage His two faire daughters and his onely heires. One to a lyon, th' other to a boare : An answere suche as eche man wondred at. 190 yoc. And how belongs this answere now to thee ? Pol. I toke my gesse even by this ensigne heere, A lyon, loe, which I did alwayes beare : Yet thinke I not but Jove alonely brought These handes of myne to suche an high exploite. 195 Joe. And howe yet came it to this straunge ef- fect ? Pol. The shining day had runne his hasted course. And deawie night bespread hir mantell darke, When I that wandred, after wearie toyle, To seke some harbrough for myne irked limmes,ioo Gan fynde at last a little cabbin, close Adjoyned faste unto the stately walles, Where king Adrastus held his royall towTes. 2o6 ^ioca^ta [act n. Quivi appena fui giunto, che vi giunse Un altro esule ancor, detto Tideo ; j II qual, volendo me cacciar di fuori 205 'j Di quel picciol albergo, ambi venimmo A stretta guerra ; et il rumor fu tale, Che in fine il Re 1' intese : il che gli diede Occasion di celebrar le nozze ; Che vedendo 1' insegne ad ambi noi 210 Di quelle fere che gli fur predette, L' uno e r altro per genero ci elesse. Gio. Bramo saper se la consorte e tale, Che gloir tu ne possa, o se altrimente. Pol. Certo piu bella, ne piu saggia donna 215 Grecia non ha della mia cara Argia. Gio. Com' hai potuto indurre a prender V arme Cotanta gente a si dubbiosa impresa ? Pol. Giurocci Adrasto di riporne in breve Per forza d' arme nella patria nostra ; 220 i E prima me, che piu ne avea bisogno : Onde tutti i miglior d' Argo, e Micene Seguito m' hanno a tale impresa : certo A me tanto molesta, quanto degna. Scene L] 3IOCa0ta 20; Scarce was I there in quiet well [ycoucht,] But thither came another exile eke, „ , ' Smal causes Named 1 ydeus, who strave perforce may move to drive the needy Mee from this sorie seate, and so at laste ^° contend. We settled us to fell and bloudie fight, Whereof the rumour grewe so great foorthwith That straight the king enformed was therof, 210 Who, seeing then the ensignes that wee bare To be even such as were to him foresayde, Chose eche of us to be his sonne by lawe, And sithens did solemnize eke the same. Joe. Yet woulde I know if that thy wyfe be suche 215 As thou canst joy in hir ? or what she is ? Pol. O mother deare, fayrer ne wyser dame Is none in Greece. Argia is hir name. "Joe. Howe couldst thou to this doubtfull en- terprise So many bring, thus armed all at once ? 220 Pol. Adrastus sware that he woulde soone re- store Unto our right both Tydeus and me : And fyrst for mee that had the greater neede ; Whereby the best and boldest blouds in Greece Have followed me unto this enterpryse, 225 A thing both just and grievous unto me, 204 ycouc/it, MS., Ql. Q2, Q3, ycought. 2o8 ^iocas^ta [act n. Molesta dico ; che m' incresce e duole 225 D' esser astretto, per cagion si grave, Di mover guerra alia mia patria cara. M' a voi, madre, appartien di far che questa Cagion si tolga ; e trar il figlio vostro Del tristo esilio, e la Citta d' affanno. 230 Altramente io vi giuro ch' Eteocle, Che isdegna d' accettarmi per fratello, In breve mi vedra di lui Signore. Io dimando lo stato di cui debbo La meta posseder, s' io son d* Edipo, 235 E di voi figlio ; che pur d' ambi sono. Per questo io spero ch' in difesa mia, Oltre r arme terrene, anco fia Giove. Coro. Ecco, Reina, che Eteocle viene ; Perocche Dio non vuol che lungamente 240 Regni un Tiranno ; e chi regnar dovrebbe Sia tenuto lontan dalle sue case. 239 Ecco . . . -viene. This line is placed after 242 in the ** Printers' Errors" of O. Scene I] ^OtKfStd. 209 Greevous I saye, for that I doe lament To be constrayned by such open wrong To warre agaynst myne owne deare countrey feeres. But unto you (O mother) dothe pertain 230 To stinte this stryfe, and both deliver mee From exile now, and eke the towne from siege : For otherwise, I sweare you here by heavens, Eteocles, who now doth me disdayne For brother, shortly shall see me his lorde. 235 I aske the seate, wherof I ought of right Possesse the halfe ; I am Oedipus Sonne And yours, so am I true Sonne to you both. Wherfore I hope that as in my defence The worlde will weygh, so Jove wil me assiste.240 Eteocles commeth in here by the gates ElectnSi himself armed, and before him XX gentlemen in armour y his two pages y IV her of the one beareth his targe ty the other his helme. Chor. Beholde, O queene, beholde, O, . I The dames worthie queene ! did love Unworthie he, Eteocles, here commes ; Poiynice So woulde the gods that in this noble ^^^ ^f^^ , ° Eteocles. realme Shoulde never long unnoble tyrant reigne, Or that with wrong the right and doutlesse heire245 Shoulde banisht be out of his princely seate. 210 €>iocas?ta [actii. Usate voi tante ragioni, e tali, Ch' uno, e T altro fratello a pace torni. Eteocle. Madre, io son qui, per obbedir venut0 245 Alle dimande vostre : or fate ch' io Sappia quel che da me voi ricercate Cosi fuor di proposito, et a tempo Che piu r officio mio la Citta brama. Vorrei saper qual utile di noi 250 V abbia mosso a far tregua con Argivi, Et aprir la Cittade al mio nimico. Gio. Raffrena, figliuol mio, 1' impeto e 1' ira Ch' offuscano la mente di chi parla In guisa, che la lingua, a mover pronta, 255 Scene I] J.OCa0ta 211 Yet thou, O queene, so fyle thy sugred toung, And with such counsell decke thy mothers tale, That peace may both the brothers hartes in- flame. And rancour yelde, that erst possesse the same. 250 Eteocles. Mother, beholde, your hestes for to obey In person nowe am I resorted hither : In haste therefore fayne woulde I knowe what cause With hastie speede so moved hath your minde To call me nowe so causelesse out of time, 255 When common wealth moste craves my onely ayde. Fayne woulde I knowe what quent commoditie Perswades you thus to take a truce for tyme. And yeld the gates wide open to my foe. The gates that myght our stately state defende,26o And now are made the path of our decay. yoc. " Represse, deare son, those raging stormes of wrath, That so bedimme the eyes of thine intent. As when the tongue (a redv instrument) Would fayne pronounce the meaning of the minde, 265 256 my. MS., myne. 264 the. MS., thie. zdi) fayne pronounce. MS., faynest tell. the minde. MS., thy minde. 264-66 As 'when . . . seemely zvorde. Omitted in Qi. 212 ^ioca0ta [acth. Di rado puo formar parola onesta. Ma quando con lentezza, e senza sdegno L' uom, discorrendo quel che dir conviene, Voto di passion, la lingua scioglie, Allor escono fuor sagge risposte, 260 E di prudenza ogni suo detto e pieno. Rasserena il turbato aspetto, o figlio, E non drizzar in altra parte gli occhi, Che qui non miri il volto di Medusa, Ma si trova presente il tuo fratello. 265 Tu, Polinice, ancor riguarda in viso II tuo fratel ; perche, veggendo in quello La propria immago, intenderai, figliuolo, Che neir offender lui te stesso offendi. Ne rimaner gia d' ammonirti voglio 270 Che, quando avvien che due fratelli irati, Parenti, o amici, son ridotti insieme D' alcun pietoso che ricerca e tenta 270 d" ammonirti •voglio. O, d' ammonito io voglio. D, d' ammonirti io voglio. Scene I.] 31OCa0ta 213 It cannot speake one honest seemely worde ; But when disdayne is shrunke or sette asyde, And mynde of man with leysure can discourse What seemely wordes his tale may best beseeme, And that the toung unfoldes without affectes, 270 Then may proceede an answere sage and grave, And every sentence sawst with sobernesse : " Wherefore unbende thine angrie browes, deare childe, And caste thy rolling eyes none other waye, That here doest not Medusaes (a) face (a) One of beholde, t^e furies. But him, even him, thy bloud and brother deare. And thou behold, my Polinices eke. Thy brothers face, wherein when thou mayst see Thine owne image, remember therewithall That what offence thou wouldst to him were done, ^8^ The blowes thereof rebounde unto thy selfe. And hereof eke I would you both forewarne, When frendes or brethren, kinsfolke or allies, (Whose hastie hearts some angrie moode had moved) Be face to face by some of pitie brought, 285 266 // cannot . . . ivorde. MS., Thie swelling hart puft up with wicked ire, Can scarce procure one inward loving thought. 214 aiocasfta [acth. Di poner fine alia discordia loro, Debbon considerar solo all' efFetto, 275 Per cui venuti son, e della mente Dipor del tutto le passate ofFese. Dunque sarai tu primo, o Polinice, A dir le ragion tue ; perocche mosso Hai contra noi queste nimiche genti, 280 Per ricevuta ofFesa del fratello ; Come s' odon suonar le tue parole : Racconta prima tu le tue ragioni ; E giudice di queste empie contese Sara alcun Dio pietoso ; il quale io prego 285 Che vi spiri nel cuor desio di pace. Pol. Madre, la verita sempre esser deve Semplice e nuda; e non le fa mestiero Artificio di dir, ne di parole; Perch' ella mai da se non e diversa, 290 E serba ogni era una medesma faccia. Scene I.l 31oca0ta 215 Rehersall of olde grudges doth hinder al reconcili- ation. Who seekes to ende their discorde and debate, They onely ought consider well the cause For which they come, and cast out of their minde For evermore the olde offences past ; So shall sweete peace drive pleading out of place. 290 Wherfore the first shall Polinices be, To tell what reason first his minde did rule, That thus our walles with forrein foes enclosde In sharpe revenge of causelesse wrongs receiv'd. As he alledgeth, by his brothers doome : And of this wicked woe and dire (b) debate Some god of pitie be the equall judge, Whome I beseeche to breath in both breasts A yelding heart to deepe desire of peace. Pol. " My woorthie dame, I finde that tried truthe Doth beste beseeme a simple naked tale, Ne needes to be with painted proces prickt, That in hir selfe hath no diversitie. But alwayes shewes one undisguised face, 294 ivrongs. MS. and Q3, wrong. 295 {b) CrueU or venge- able. your Truth pleadeth simply when falssehood useth elo- quence. 2l6 (3iOCn&tU [Act II. Ma la menzogna cerca ombra e colori Di fallace eloquenza; e da se stessa In ogni tempo e varia, e difFerente. 10 r ho detto piu volte, e a dir ritorno 295 Che, affinche non avesser sopra noi Le biasteme del padre alcun efFetto, Volentieri io partii della mia terra, Convenendo con quest! ch' ei tenesse 11 bel seggio paterno in regnar solo 300 Per tanto spazio, che girasse V anno; II qual fornito, io succedessi a lui, E questa legge si serbasse sempre. Egli, benche giurasse uomini, e Dei D' osservar cotai patti ; nondimeno, 305 Senza rispetto e riverenza alcuna Lei sprezzando e calcando sotto a' piedi, S' usurpa da Tiran la parte mia. Ma, s' egli consentir vuol ch' io ritorni Scene I] 3IOCa0ta 21 7 Where deepe deceipt and lies must seeke the shade, 305 And wrap their wordes in guilefull eloquence, As ever fraught with contrarietie." So have I often sayde, and say againe. That to avoide our fathers foule reproche And bitter curse, I parted from this lande 310 With right good will, yet thus with him agreed : That while the whirling wings of flying time Might roll one yeare aboute the heavenly spheare. So long alone he might with peace possesse Our fathers seate in princely (<:) Dia- (c) Crown deme, or sceptre. And when the yeare should eke his course renue. Might I succeede to rule againe as long. And that this lawe might still be kept for aye, He bound him selfe by vowe of solemne othe. By gods, by men, by heaven, and eke by earth : 320 Yet, that forgot, without all reverence Unto the gods, w^ithout respect to right. Without respect that reason ought to rule, His faith and troth both troden under foote, He still usurps, most tvrantlike, with wrong 325 The right that doth of right to me belong. But if he can with equall doome consent That I retourne into my native soyle 2l8 ^tOCaS^ta [Act II. Nelle mie case, e tenga a par di lul 310 Delia Citta comune il Real freno ; Madre, per tutti i Dei prometto e giuro Di levar questo assedio, e parimente L' esercito mandar onde e venuto. Ma, s' ei non lo consente, io faro quanto 315 Ragion ricerca e la mia causa giusta : Testimonio nel Ciel mi fanno i Dei, E qui nel mondo gli uomini mortali. Come verso Eteocle in alcun tempo Non son mancato a quel che vuol 1' onesto, 320 Ed ei contra ragion del mio mi priva. Questo ch' ho detto, o madre, e appunto quelle Che dir conviensi ; e tal, ch' io m' assecuro Che non men presso i buon, che presso i rei, Esser debba approvato in mia difesa. 325 Coro, Chi puo negar che le parole vostre, Signor, non siano oneste, e di voi degne ? Scene!.] 3l0Cafi?ta 219 To sway with him alike the kingly seate, And evenly beare the bridle both in hand, 330 Deare mother mine, I sweare by all the gods To raise with speede the siege from these our walles. And send the souldiers home from whence they came : Which if he graunt me not, then must I do (Though loth) as much as right and reason would, 335 To venge my cause, that is both good and just. Yet this in heaven the gods my records be. And here in earth each mortal! man may know, That never yet my giltlesse heart did fayle Brotherly duetie to Eteocles, 34° And that causelesse he holdes me from mine owne. Thus have I said, O mother, even as much As needefuU is, wherein I me assure That in the judgement both of good and badde My words may seeme of reason to proceede, 345 Constrained thus in my defence to speake. Chor. None may denie, O pere of princely race, But that thy words are honest, good, and just. And such as well beseeme that tong of thine. in my. Q3, may. 220 ^iocas?ta [act ii. Eteo. Se quelle che ad alcun assembra onesto Paresse onesto parimentl a tutti, Non nasceria giammai contesa, o guerra. 330 Ma quanti uomini son, tante veggiamo Esser 1' openion ; e quel che stima Altri ragion, ad altri e ingiuria e torto. Dal parer di costui lungo cammino, Madre, (per dir il vero) e il mio lontano . 335 Ne vi voglio occultar che, s' io potessi Su nel Cielo regnar, e giu in Inferno, Non mi spaventeria fatica, o affanno, Per ritrovar al mio desio la strada Di gire in questo, o di salir in quello : 340 Onde non e da creder ch' io commetta Che del dominio ch' io posseggo solo Altri venga a occupar alcuna parte : Ch' egli e cosa da timido e da sciocco Lasciar il molto, per aver il poco. 345 Oltre di questo, ne verria gran biasmo Al nome mio, se costui, ch* e mosso Con r armi per guastar i nostri campi, I Scene I] 3|OCa0Ca 221 Eteo. " If what to some seemes hon- „ a Sundrye est, good, and just, men, Could seeme even so in every doubtfull sundry • J minds. mind, No darke debate nor quarell could arise : But looke ! how many men so many minds, And that, that one man judgeth good and just. Some other deemes as deepely to be wrong." 35s To say the truth (mother) this minde of mine Doth fleete full farre from that farfetch of his, Ne will I longer cover my conceit : If I could rule or reigne in heaven above. And eke commaund in depth of darksome hell, 360 No toile ne travell should my sprites abashe To take the way unto my restlesse will, To climbe aloft, nor downe for to descend. Then thinke you not that I can give consent To yeld a part of my possession, Wherin I live and lead the (*) mon- * Onely archie. J^le. " A witlesse foole may every man him gesse That leaves the more and takes him to the lesse." With this, reproch might to my name redound, If he, that hath with forren power spoilde 370 Our pleasaunt fields, might reave from me per- force 362 take. MS. and Qi, make. 364 gi've. MS. and Qi, yelde. 222 ^ioca^ta [actii. Ottenesse da me quel che vorria. Non seguirebbe ancor minor vergogna 35° A' nostri cittadin, s' io per paura Di gente Argiva, concedessi a questo Poggiar di I'ebe all' onorata altezza. In fin, non dovev' ei cercar fra noi La pace e 1' union per forza d' arme, 355 Ma con preghi e umilta : perocche spesso Fan le parole quel che non puo il ferro. Nondimeno, s' ei vuol nella Cittade Abitar come figlio di Giocasta, Non come Rei di Tebe, io gliel concedo ; 360 Ma non istimi gia che, mentre io posso Comandar ad altrui, voglia esser servo. Mova pur contra noi le genti armate ; E i fuochi, e i ferri ; ch' io per me giammai Non son per consentir che meco regni : 365 Che s' egli si convien per altro effetto, Si convien molto piu (se V uomo e saggio) Per cagion di regnar romper la legge. I Scene I.] 3l0Cafi?ta 223 What so he list by force of armes demand. No lesse reproofe the citizens ensewes, If I, for dread of Greekish hosts, should graunt That he might climbe to height of his desire. 375 In fine, he ought not thus of me to crave Accord or peace with bloudy sword in hand, But with humilitie and prayer both : For often is it seene, and proofe doth teach, " Swete words prevaile where sword and fire do faile." 380 Yet this, if here within these stately walles He liste to live, the sonne of Oedipus, And not as king of Thebes, I stand content. But let him thinke, since now I can commaunde, This necke of mine shall never yeld to yoke 385 Of servitude : let bring his banners splayde. Let speare and shield, sharpe sworde and cynd- ring flames Procure the parte that he so vainely claimes : As long as life within this brest doth last, I nill (*) consent that he should • • 1 * Wilnot. reigne with me. If lawe of right may any way be broke, " Desire of rule within a climbing brest, Tullyes To breake a vow may beare the buckler opmyon. best." 380 do faile. MS. and Qi omit do. 387 fiames. MS., flame. 224 ^ioca^ta [acth. Coro. Chi delP onesto fuori esce con I'opra £ ragion ch' esca ancor con le parole. 37c Gio. Figliuol mio,la vecchiezza, ch' esser suole Cinta da molti afFanni, ha questo bene ; Che per la lunga esperienza vede, E intende molte cose che non sanno E non veggono i giovani. Deh, lascia 375 L* ambizion, ch' e la piu cruda peste Che ne infetti le menti de' mortal! : Ella nelle Cittadi, e nei palagi Entra sovente, e sempre seco adduce, E lascia al possessor danno e ruina. 38c Questa distrugge 1' amicizia: questa Rompe le leggi, la concordia abbatte, E sossopra ne volge imperii e regni. Or col suo fele t' avvelena tanto, Che r intelletto infermo e fatto cieco 385 Al proprio ben : ma tu la scaccia, o figlio, Scene I] 3(lOCa0ta 225 Cho. " Who once hath past the bounds of honestie In ernest deedes, may passe it well in words." 39^ yoc. O Sonne, amongst so many miseries This beneiite hath croked age, I find. That, as the tracke of trustlesse time hath taught, " It seeth much and many things discernes Youth Which recklesse youth can never rightly sTmuch^ judge." as age. Oh, cast aside that vaine ambition, That corosive, that cruell pestilence. That most infects the minds of mortall men : " In princely palace and in stately Ambition tOWneS doth de- It crepeth ofte, and close with it con- ^^'""^f ^}' r ' equalytie vayes doth mayn- (To leave behind it) damage and de- tey^e ai ^ ^ ^ things. cayes : ^ By it be love and amitie destroyde. It breakes the lawes, and common concord beates, Kingdomes and realmes it topsie turvie turnes." And now even thee hir gall so poisoned hath 410 That the weake eies of thine affection Are blinded quite, and see not to them selfe. But, worthie childe, drive from thy doubtfull brest 226 ^iocafl?ta [acth. Omai del core, e 'n vece d' ella abbraccia U equita : questa le Citta mantiene, E lega r uom con stretto, e saldo nodo D' arnica fune che non rompe mai. Questa e propria deiruomo; e chi possede Vie piu di quel che gli convien, acquista Odio a se stesso, e talor pena e morte. Questa divise fe con giusta meta Le ricchezze, e i terreni, e questa eguali Rende i giorni alle notti : e 1' esser vinto Ora il lume dall' ombra, or dalla luce II fosco manto che la notte spiega, Ad alcun d' essi invidia non apporta. Dunque, se '1 giorno, e se la notte serve, L* uno, e r altra cedendo, all' util nostro j Ben del tu sostener che '1 tuo fratello Abbia teco egual parte di quel regno Che piacque al Ciel di far tra voi comune. II che se tu non fai, dove, figliuolo. La giustizia avra luogo ; senza cui Qua giu non dee, ne si puo regger stato? 388 equita. O, egualita. Scene L] 3IOCa0ta 2 2; This monstrous mate, in steade wherof embrace " Equalitie, which stately states defends, 415 And binds the minde with true and trustie knots Of frendly faith which never can be broke ; This, man of right should properly possesse ; " And who that other doth the more embrace Shall purchase paine to be his just reward, 420 By wrathfull wo or else by cruell death. " This first devided all by equall bonds What so the earth did yeld for our availe : This did devide the nightes and dayes alike. And that the vaile of darke and dreadfull night, 425 Which shrowds in misty clouds the pleasaunt light, Ne yet the golden beames of Phoebus rayes Which cleares the dimmed ayre with gladsome gleams. Can yet heape hate in either of them both." U then the dayes and nightes to serve our turne43o Content themselves to yeld each other place. Well oughtest thou with waightie dome to graunt Thy brothers right to rule the reigne with thee, Which heavens ordeyned common to you both : If so thou nill, O sonne, O cruell sonne, 435 " In whose high brest may justice if th h d builde hir boure be eviu the When princes harts wide open lye to body cannot J j> be good. wrong r ^ 2 28 €>ioca0ta [acth. Perche apprezzi 1' efFetto di Tiranno ? E con r ingiuria altrui di render sazia L' ingorda mente ? Ahi, che non ben istimi 410 Che '1 comandar altrui sia degna loda, Quando V onesto non si tien in piede : Egli e vano desio posseder molto, Per esser molto combattuto sempre Da sospetto, d' afFanno, e da paura. 415 Se cerchi quel ch' e copia, ella per certo Altro non e, che nome : che aver quanto Basta r uso mortal naturalmente i Appaga r uom, s' egli e modesto e saggio : E cotesti mortal caduchi beni 420 Non son proprii d' alcun, ma espressi doni J Che con benigna man Giove comparte, ^ Perche ne siam di lor sempre ministri. E come ce gli da, cosi col tempo, Quando gli place, ce gli toglie ancora, 425 E vuol ch' ogn' or da lui gli conosciamo ; Onde cosa non e stabile e ferma j Ma suol cangiarsi col girar dell' ore. Scene I.] 3|0CaS?ta 229 Why likes thee so the tipe of tyrannic, With others losse to gather greedy gaine? " Alas ! how farre he wanders from the truth 440 That compts a pompe all other to command, Yet can not rule his owne unbridled will ; A vaine desire much riches to possesse, Whereby the brest is brusde and battered still With dread, with daunger, care and cold suspecte. 445 " Who seekes to have the thing we call inough, Acquainte him first with contentation. Content For plenteousnesse is but a naked '^ "'^^«- name ; And what suffiseth use of mortall men Shall best apay the meane and modest hearts. 45° These hoorded heapes of golde and worldly wealth Are not the proper goods of any one. But pawnes which Jove powres out Riches are aboundantly but borow- That we likewise might use them ^'^ ^^■^''^• equally ; And as he seemes to lend them for a time, 455 Even so in time he takes them home agavne, And would that we acknowledge every houre. That from his handes we did the same receive: There nothing is so firme and stayde to man But whyrles about with wheeles of restlesse time." 460 230 €>ioca0ta [act ii. Ora, s' io voglio addimandarti quale Di due condizioni elegger brami : 430 O serbar la Tirannide che tieni, O conservar la tua Citta j dirai La tirannide ? O figlio, empia risposta : Che s' avverra che vincano i nemici j Allor, veggendo saccheggiarne Tebe, 435 E violar le Vergini, e menarne Una gran parte i vincitor captiva ; Allor conoscerai quanto sovente L' opulenzie, gli scettri, e le corone Apportano perdendole piii noia, 440 Che non fan possedendole contento. Per conchiuder, figliuol, T ambizione E quella che t' offende : e, se di lei Non ne liberi il cor, ti fo secure Che al fin te ne vedrai tardi pentito. 445 Coro. Allor che nulla il pentimento giova. Scene I.] 31OCa0ta 23 1 Now if I should this one thing thee demaunde, Which of these two thou wouldest chuse to keepe, The towne quiet or unquiet tyrannie ? And wouldest thou say, I chuse my kingly chayre ? witlesse answere sent from wicked heart ! 465 For if so fall (which mightie God defende) Thine enimies hand should overcome thy might, And thou shouldest see them sacke the towne of Thebes, The chastest virgins ravished for .. o More care wrecke, to loose The worthy children in captivitie, than piesure " Then shouldest thou feele that seep- ° posses. ter, crowne, and wealth Yeelde deeper care to see them tane away Than to possesse them yeldeth deepe content." Now to conclude, my sonne : Ambition Is it that most offends thy blynded thought ; 475 Blame not thy brother, blame ambition, From whome if so thou not redeeme thy selfe, 1 feare to see thee buy repentance deare. Cho. Yea, deare, too deare, when it shal come too late. 475 Is it . . . thought. MS., Is it that most of all offends thy thought. Qi, Is it that most offendes thy thought. 232 ^ioca0Ca [acth. Gio. Quanto a te, Polinice, io voglio dire | Che sciocco Adrasto, e tu imprudente fosti ; Quello a gradir alle tue insane voglie, E tu a mover le genti contro Tebe. 45° Or dimmi un poco : se la Citta prendi, (II che mai non concedano gli Iddii) Deh, quai spoglie, quai palme, e quai trofei Innalzerai d' aver la patria presa ? Quai titol degni d' immortale onore 455 Scriver farai per testimonio eterno Di cotal opra ? O figlio, o figlio, questa Gloria dal nome tuo resti lontana. Ma, s* avverra che perditor ne sii, Con quai fronte potrai tornar in Argo, 460 j Lasciando qui di molta gente morta ? Malediratti ognun, come cagione Del danno suo, rimproverando Adrasto D' averti eletto alia sua figlia sposo ; Scene I.] 3|OCa0ta 233 yiocasfta [actiii. Per levarti la noia del cammino ; Ch' alia vecchiezza ogni fatica e grave. Tu, di lui figlia, che pietosa il guidi, Or qui lo ferma : e volentieri in tanto 20 Quella vergine man che lo sostiene II suo debito e onesto officio porga ; Perocche questa eta canuta e bianca Delle mani d' altrui ricerca appoggio. Tire, Ti ringrazio, son qui, di' quel che vuoi. %$ Cre. Quel ch' io voglio da te, Tiresia, e cosa Da non uscir di mente cosi tosto : Ma riposati alquanto, e pria ristora In camminar gli afFaticati spirti. Ma che vuol dir quella corona d' ore 3° Ch' ora, a guisa di Re, t' orna la testa ? Tire. Sappi che V aver io col mio consiglio Dianzi insegnato ai Cittadin d' Atene Come ottener poteano facilmente Certa vittoria de' nemici loro 35 Cagion dell' ornamento e che tu vedi; Scene I] 3l0CaSfta 273 To ease the paine that thou mightst else sus- taine, " For unto elde eche travell yeldes an- noy." ^^^ """^^ J ' ^ be helped And thou, his daughter and his faithful by youth. guide, Loe, rest him here, and rest thou therewithall 20 Thy virgins hands, that in sustayning him Doest well acquite the duetie of a childe. " For crooked age and hory silver heares Still craveth helpe of lustie youthfull yeares." Tyr. Gramercie, Lorde, what is your noble will ? ^5 Cre, What I would have of thee, Tyresias, Is not a thing so soone for to be sayde, But rest a whyle thy weake and weary limmes, And take some breath now after wearie walke, And tell, I pray thee, what this crowne doth meane, 30 That sits so kingly on thy skilfull heade ? Tyr. Know this, that for I did with grave advise Foretell the citizens of Athens towne. How they might best with losse of litle bloude Have victories against their enimies, ^^ Hath bene the cause why I doe weare this crowne, 18 dde eche. Q3, olde age. 35 'victories. MS., victory. 2 74 ^iotasfta [actih. Premio alia fede mia non forse indegno. Cre. Questa vittoriosa tua corona De' casi nostri a buon augurio prendo j Che come sai, per la discordia fiera 40 Di questi due fratelli, a gran periglio Or tutta la Citta di Tebe e posta. Eteocle nostro Re, coperto d' arme E gito contra le nemiche schiere ; Et ammi imposto che da te, che sei 45 Vero indovin delle future cose, Intenda quel che si de' far da noi Tutti, per conservar la patria nostra. Tire. Per cagion d' Eteocle molti mesi Chiudendo per timor la bocca, ogn' ora 50 Rimasi in Tebe di predir il vero. Ma poiche tu mi chiedi il gran bisogno Ch' io t' apra il vel delle celate cose A ben universal della Cittade, Son contento di far quanto ti piace. 55 Ma prima e di mestier ch' al vostro Dio Ora si faccia sacrificio degno Del pill bel capro che si trovi in Tebe ; Dentro gli exti di cui guardando bene II Sacerdote, e riferendo come Scene I.] 3l0CafifCa 275 As right rewarde and not unmeete for me. Cre. So take I then this thy victorious crowne For our availe in token of good lucke, That knowest how the discord and debate, 40 Which late is fallen betwene these brethren twaine, Hath brought all Thebes in daunger and in dreade. Eteocles, our king, with threatning armes Is gone against his Greekish enimies, Commaunding me to learne of thee, who arte 45 A true divine of things that be to come. What were for us the safest to be done From perill now our countrev to preserve. Tyr. Long have I bene within the towne of Thebes, Since that I tyed this trustie toung of mine 50 From telling truth, fearing Eteocles : Yet, since thou doest in so great neede desire I should reveale things hidden unto thee For common cause of this our common weale, I stand content to pleasure thee herein. 55 But first (that to this mightie god of vours There might some worthie sacrifice be made) Let kill the fairest goate that is in Thebes, Within whose bowelles when the preest shall loke, 50 trustie. Q3 omits. 276 ^ioca^ta [act m. Gli trovera a me stesso ; io spero darti Di quanto far conviene avviso certo. Cre. II Tempio e qui j ne fia che tardi molto Alia venuta il Sacerdote santo, E seco rechera la monda e bella 65 Vittima che ricerchi : ch' io poco anzi, Ben cauto del costume che tu serbi, Ho mandato per lui ; Io qual, avendo Scelto il piij grasso d' infiniti capri, Gia s' era mosso. Or eccolo presente. 70 Sacerdote. Pietosi Cittadin, ch' amate tanto La patria vostra, ecco, ch' io vengo a voi Lieto, per far il sacrificio usato ; Acciocche '1 Protettor della Cittade Or la difenda nel maggior bisogno, 75 E torni pace ov' e discordia e guerra. Pero con 1' alma, e con 1' aspetto umile, Mentre ch' io svenero tacito a Bacco Questo animal che le sue viti offende, Scene!.] J^OtRHtn 277 And tell to me what he hath there espyed, 60 I trust t'advise thee what is best to doen. Cre. Lo, here the temple, and ere long I looke To see the holy preest that hither commes, Bringing with him the pure and faire offrings Which thou requirest : for not long since I sent 65 For him, as one that am not ignorant Of all your rytes and sacred ceremonyes : He went to choose amid our herd of goates The fattest there: and loke where now he commes ! Sacerdos, accompanied with xvi Bacchanales and all his rytes and ceremonies y entreth by the gates Homoloydes. Sacerdos. O famous citizens, that holde full deare 70 Your quiet countrey, loe ! where I doe come Most joyfully with wonted sacrifice, So to beseeche the supreme citizens To stay our state that staggringly doth stand. And plant us peace, where warre and discord growes : 75 Wherfore with hart devout and humble cheere, Whiles I breake up the bowels of this beast (That oft thy veneyarde, Bacchus, hath de- stroyed), 76 hart. MS., harty. 278 ^iocasita [act m. Ogn' un si volga a dimandar perdono 80 Delle sue colpe intorno a questo altare Con le ginocchia riverenti e chine. Tire. Reca la salsa mola, e spargi d' essa II collo della bestia, il resto poni Nel sacro foco ; et ungi poi d' intorno 85 II coltel destinato al sacrificio. Giove, conserva il prezioso dono Che mi facesti allor che la tua moglie, Per isdegno, mi tolse ambe le luci ; E dammi che predir io possa il vero ; 9© Che senza te ben so ch' io non potrei Ne voler, ne poter, ne aprir la bocca. Sac. Questo officio ho fornito. Tire. II capro svena. Sac. Tu, figlia di Tiresia, entro quel vaso Con le vergini man ricevi il sangue : 95 Quinci divota 1' offerisci a Bacco. Manto. Santo di Tebe Dio, ch' apprezzi ed ami La pace, e sdegni di Bellona, e Marte I noiosi furor, le ingiurie, e 1' armi, Dator d' ogni salute, e d' ogni gioia, 100 Scene I.l 3(IOCa0ta 279 Let every wight crave pardon for his faults With bending knee about his aultars here. go Tyr. Take here the salt, and sprincle ther- withall About the necke : that done, cast all the rest Into the sacred fire, and then annoynte The knife prepared for the sacrifice. O mightie Jove, preserve the precious gifte 85 That thou me gave, when first thine ^ Venus made angrie Queene,^ _ him blynde For deepe disdayne, did both mine for giving eyes do out ! T^'nThir Graunt me I may foretell the truth in this. For but by thee I know that I ne may, Ne wil, ne can, one trustie sentence say 90 Sac. This due is done. Tyr. With knife then stick the kid. Sac. Thou daughter of devine Tyresias, With those unspotted virgins hands of thine Receive the bloude within this vessell here. And then devoutly it to Bacchus yelde. 95 Manto. O holy god of Thebes, that doest both praise Swete peace, and doest in hart also disdayne The noysome noyse, the furies and the fight Of bloudie Mars and of Bellona both ! O thou the giver both of joy and health, 100 28o ^iocasfta [act m. Gradisci, o Bacco, e con pia man ricevi Questo debito a te sacro olocausto : E, come questa alma Citta t* adora ; Cosi per te, che lo puoi far, respiri, E da' nimici oltraggi illesa resti. 105 Sac. Or col tuo santo nome apro col ferro La vittima. Tire. Mi di' siccome stanno L' interiora. Sac. Ben formate e belle Son per tutto. II fegato e puro, e '1 core Senza difetto : e ver ch' egli non ave no Piu ch' una fibra ; appresso cui si vede Un non so che, che par putrido e guasto ; II qual levando, ogn' intestine resta Intatto e sano. Tire. Or pon nel sacro foco Gli odoriferi incensi : indi m' avvisa 115 Del color delle fiamme, e d' altre cose Convenienti a vaticinio vero. Sac. Veggo la fiamma di color diversi, Qual sanguigno, qual negro, e qual in parte Bigio, qual perso, e qual del tutto verde. 120 Tire. Or basti questo aver veduto e inteso. Sappi, Creonte, che la bella forma 120 verde. Here the "Printers' Errors" of O add six lines which are also omitted in D : II verde ci denota alcuna speme Di conservar la nostra patria in piede : Scene I] 31OCa0ta 28 1 Receive in gree and with well willing hand These holy whole brunt ofFrings unto thee : And as this towne doth wholy thee adore, So by thy helpe do graunt that it may stand Safe from the enimies outrage evermore. 105 Sac. Now, in thy sacred name, I bowell here This sacrifice. Tyr. And what entrails hath it ? Sac. Faire and welformed all in every poynt : The liver cleane, the hart is not infect, Save, loe, I finde but onely one hart string, no By which I finde something, I wote nere what. That seemes corrupt ; and were not onely that. In all the rest they are both sound and hole. Tyr. Now cast at once into the holy flame The swete incense, and then advertise mee 115 What hew it beares, and every other ryte That ought may helpe the truth for to conjecte. Sac. I see the flames do sundrie coulours cast. Now bloudy sanguine, straight way purple, blew. Some partes seeme blacke, some gray, and some be greene. izo Tyr. Stay there : sufFyseth this for to have scene ! Know, Creon, that these outward seemely signes III something. MS., somewhat. 119 purple, ble^v. MS., purple blew. 282 ^tOCa0ta [Act III. Degli exti, appresso quel che mi dimostra II Signor che ogni cosa intende e vede, Dinota come la Citta di Tebe 125 Contra gli Argivi vincitrice fia, Se avverra che consent! : ma non voglio Seguir piu avanti. Cre. Deh, per cortesia Segui, Tiresia, e non aver rispetto Ad uom che viva a raccontar il vero. 130 Sac. In tanto me n' andro donde venuto r son, poiche non lice a' Sacerdoti Di trovarsi presenti a' detti vostri. Tire, Contra di quel ch' ho detto, il fero incesto, E '1 mostruoso parto di Giocasta 135 Cotanto ha mosso in ciel 1' ira di Giove, Che innondera questa Citta di sangue ; Correra vincitor per tutto Marte Con fochi, uccision, rapine, e morti : Cadranno gli edifici alti e superbi, 140 II perso, e '1 bigio ci dimostra chiaro Di certissimi affanni aperto segno : II nero accompagnato col sanguigno Sangue minaccia, e morti atri e funesti. Scene I.] 3IOCa0ta 283 (By that the gods have let me understand, Who know the truth of every secrete thing) Betoken that the citie great of Thebes 125 Shall victor be against the Greekish host, If so consent be given : but more than this I lyst not say. Cre. Alas, for curtesie Say on, Tyresias, never have respect To any living man, but tell the truth. 130 Sacerdos returneth with the BacchanaleSy h ^^^ S^^^^ Homoloides, Sac. In this meane while I will returne with speede From whence I came : for lawfull is it not. That suche as I should heare your secresies. Tyr. Contrary then to that which I have sayde. The incest foule and childbirth monstruous 135 Of Jocasta so stirres the wrath of Jove, This citie shall with bloudy channels swimme. And angry Mars shall overcome it all With famine, flame, rape, murther, dole and death : These lustie towres shall have a headlong fall, 140 124 PFAo . . . thing. MS. and Qi, Who understand! th all, and seith secret things. 125 Betoken. MS. and Qi, betokenith. great. MS. omits. 133 secresies. Qi, secretnesse. 284 ^ioca0ta [actih. E 'n breve si dira: qui fu gia Tebe. ] Sola una strada alia salute io veggo ; i M' a te non piacera, Creonte, udirla, Et a me forse il dir non fia sicuro. ( Pero mi parto, e t' accomando a Giove, 145 ^ Contento di patir con gli altri insieme Tutto quel ch' avverra di avversa sorte. Cre. Fermati, o vecchio. Tire. Non mi far, Creonte, Forza a restar. Cre. Perche mi fuggi ? Tire. Io certo Non ti fuggo, o Signor, ma la fortuna. 150 Cre. Dimmi quel che bisogna alia salute Delia Citta. Tire. Creonte, or ben dimostri Desio di conservarla : ma dappoi Ch' inteso a pieno avrai quel che t' e ascoso, Non vorrai consentir a questo bene. 155 Cre. Come poss' io non desiar mai sempre U utile e '1 ben della Citta di Tebe ? Tire. Dunque cerchi d' udir e intender come In breve spazio conservar la puoi ? Scene I.] 3|OCa0ta 285 These houses burnde, and all the rest be razde ; And soone be sayde : *' Here whilome Thebes stoode." One onely way I finde for to escape, Which bothe would thee displease to heare it tolde, And me to tell percase were perillous. 145 Thee therfore with my travell I commende To Jove, and with the rest I will endure, What so shall chaunce for our adversitie. Cre. Yet stay a whyle. Tyr. Creon, make me not stay By force. Cre. Why fleest thou ? Tyr. Syr, tis not from thee 150 I flee, but from this fortune foule and fell. Cre. Yet tell me what behoves the citie doe. Tyr. Thou, Creon, seemest now desirous still It to preserve : but if as well as I Thou knewest that which is to thee unknowne, 155 Then wouldst thou not so soone consent thereto. Cre. And would not I with eagre minde de- sire The thing that may for Thebes ought avayle ? Tyr. And dost thou then so instantly request To know which way thou mayest the same preserve ? 160 2 86 ^iocasfta [actiii. Cre. Non per altra cagion mandai mio figlio i6o A qui chiamarti. Tire. lo son, poiche tu brami, Per soddisfarti : ma mi di' se teco £ Meneceo. Cre. Non t' e molto discosto. Tire. lo vorrei che '1 mandasti in altra parte. Cre. Per qual cagion non vuoi ch' ei sia presente ? 165 Tire. Non vo' ch' intenda le parole mie. Cre. Ei m' e iigliuol, ne le fara palesi. Tire, Adunque io parlero, send' ei presente ? Cre. Sappi ch' egli, com'io, gode del bene Di Tebe nostra. Tire. Intenderai, Creonte, 170 Che la via di salvar questa Cittade £ tal : convien che '1 tuo figliuolo uccidi ; Conven che per la patria del suo corpo Vittima facci : or ecco quel che cerchi Di saper : e dappoiche m' hai sforzato 175 A dirti cosa ch' io tacer volea, S' ofFeso t' ho con le parole mie, Di te ti duol, e della tua fortuna. Scene I] ^OCaS^ta 287 Cre. For nothing else I sent my sonne of late To seeke for thee. Tyr. Then will I satisfie Thy greedie minde in this : but first tell me, Menetius, where is he ? Cre. Not farre from me. Tyr. I pray thee sende him out some other where. 165 Cre. Why wouldest thou that he should not be here ? Tyr. I would not have him heare what I should say. Cre. He is my sonne, ne will he it reveale. Tyr. And shall I then, while he is present, speake ? Cre. Yea, be thou sure that he, no lesse than 1, 170 Doth wishe full well unto this common weale. Tyr. Then, Creon, shalt thou knowe : the meane to save This citie is that thou shalt slea thy sonne. And of his bodie make a sacrifice For his countrey. Lo ! heere is all you seeke 17s So much to knowe ; and since you have me forst To tell the thing that I would not have tolde, If I have you offended with my words. Blame then your selfe, and eke your frowarde fate. 288 ^iocas?ta [acthi. j Cre. Ah, parole crudeli ; oime, che hai detto, Mai accorto indovin ? Tire. Q^^^ ch' ordinate i8o . £ su nel ciel e di mestier che segua. Cre. O quanti mali in poco spazio hai chiusi. Tire. Per te son mali, e per la patria beni. Cre. Pera la patria : io non consento a questo. Tire. La patria amar si de' sopra ogni cosa. 185 Cre. £ crudel chi non ama i suoi figliuoli. Tire. Per comun ben e ben che pianga un solo. Cre. Perdendo il mio, non vo' salvar 1' altrui. Tire. Non guarda all' util suo buon cittadino. Cre. Partiti omai coi vaticinii tuoi. '9^ Tire. Sempre la verita sdegno produce. Cre. Ti prego ben per quelle bianche chiome, Tire. II mal che vien dal Ciel non puo schi- farsi. Scene I.] 3l0CaS^Ca 289 Cre. Oh cruel words ! oh ! oh ! what hast thou sayde, i8o Thou cruell sothsayer ? Tyr. Even that, that heaven Hath ordeined once, and needes it must ensue. Cre. How many evils hast thou knit up in one ! Tyr. Though evill for thee, yet for thy coun- trey good. Cre. And let my countrey perishe, what care I? 185 Tyr. " Above all things we ought to holde it deare." Cre. Cruell were he that would not love his childe. Tyr. " For common weale were well that one man waile." Cre. To loose mine owne, I listc none other save. Tyr. " Best citizens care least for privat gayne." 190 Cre. Depart for nowe with all thy prophecies. Tyr. " Lo, thus the truth doth alwayes hatred get." Cre. Yet pray I thee by these thy silver heares — Tyr. " The harme that commes from heaven can not be scapt." 290 ^iocas^ta [act hi. Cre. E per quel sacro tuo verace splrto, Tire. lo non posso disfar quel che fa il Cielo. 195 Cre. Che tal secreto non palesi altrui. Tire. Dunque tu mi conforti esser bugiardo ? Cre. Prego che taci. Tire. lo cio tacer non voglio : Ma, per darti nel mal qualche conforto, Ti fo certo ch' al fin sarai Signore 200 Di Tebe : il che dimostra quella fibra Ch' e nasciuta dal cor senza compagna : Siccome ancor la particella guasta fe argomento verissimo ch' approva La morte di tuo figlio. Cre. Sii contento 205 Di non ridir giammai questo secreto. Tire. lo nol debbo tacer, ne vo' tacerlo. Cre. Dunque del mio figliuol sarai omicida ? Tire. Di cio non me, ma la tua Stella in- colpa. Cre. E perche '1 Ciel lui sol condanna a morte ? ^ 10 Tire. Creder si dee che la cagion sia giusta. Scene I] J^OtR^tR 29 1 Cre. And by thy holy spirite of prophecie — 195 Tyr. " What heaven hath done, that cannot I undoe." Cre. That to no moe this secrete thou re- veale. Tyr. And wouldst thou have me learne to make a lye ? Cre. I pray thee hold thy peace. Tyr. That will I not ; But in thy woe to yeelde thee some reliefe, 200 I tell thee once thou shalt be lorde of Thebes, Which happe of thine this string did well de- clare. Which from the heart doth out alonely growe. So did the peece corrupted plavnly shewe An argument most evident to prove 205 Thy Sonne his death. Cre. Well, yet be thou content To keepe full close this secrete hidden griefe. Tyr. I neither ought, ne will keepe it so close. Cre. Shall I be then the murtherer of mine owne ? Tyr. Ne blame not me, but blame the starres for this. 210 Cre. Can heavens condemne but him alone to dye ? Tyr. We ought beleeve the cause is good and just. 203 alonely. MS., all only. 292 €>ioca0ta [act m. Cre. Giusto non e chi 1' innocente danna. Tire. Pazzo e chi accusa d' ingiustizia il Cielo. Cre. Dal Ciel non puo venir opra cattiva. Tire. Adunque questa ch' ei comanda e buona. 215 Cre. Creder non vo' che teco parli Giove. Tire. Perch' io t' annunzio quel ch' a te non piace. Cre. Toglimiti dinanzi, empio, e bugiardo. Tire. Figliuola, andiamo. Pazzo e ben chi adopra L' arte d' indovinar : perocche, s' ei 220 Predice altrui talor le cose avverse, Odio n' acquista ; e s' egli tace il vero, Offende i Dei. Era mestier che Apollo Predicesse il futuro : io dico Apollo, Che non puo temer di nimica offesa ; 225 Ma drizziamo, figliuola, i passi altrove. Scene L] 3|0Cafifta 293 Cre. " Unjust is he condemnes the innocent." Tyr. " A foole is he accuseth Great follye heavens of wrongs." to accuse Cre. " There can no ill thing come t e go s. from heavens above." ^^5 Tyr. Then this that heaven commaunds can not be ill. Cre. I not beleeve that thou hast talkt with God. Tyr. Bicause I tell thee that doth thee dis- please. Cre. Out of my sight, accursed lying wretch ! Tyr. Go, daughter, go ; oh, what ^ ^^^^^^ foole is he office to That puts in ure to publish prophecies ! foretell a " For if he do fore tell a froward fate, ^ c e e. Though it be true, yet shall he purchase hate : And if he silence keepe, or hide the truth. The heavy wrath of mightie gods ensuth." 225 Appollo he might well tell things to come, That had no dread the angry to ofFende. But hye we, daughter, hence some other way. Tyresias, with Manto his daughter, re- turn eth by the gates called Electree. 217 talkt, MS., talk. 220 what foole. MS. and Qi, what a foole. 294 (S^ioca^ta [act m. [SCENA 2.] Creonte, Meneceo. Creonte. Caro figliuolo mio, 1' empia novella Contra di te dell' Indovino hai intesa : Ma non saro giammai tanto crudele, Ch' i' consenta, o figliuolo, alia tua morte. Meneceo. Anzi dovete consentir ch' io mora, Padre, dappoiche '1 mio morir fia quello Ch' apporti alia Citta vittoria, e pace. Ne si puo far la piii lodata morte, Che per ben della patria uscir di vita. Cre. Non lodo questa tua mal sana mente. Men. Sapete, padre mio, la vita nostra Esser fragile e corta, e veramente Non altro tutta, che travagli e pene : E morte, ch' ad alcun par tanto amara, Porto tranquil delle miserie umane ; Alia qual chi piu tosto arriva e giunto Scene n.] 31OCa0ta 295 SCENA 2. Creon, Meneceus. ^Creon.'] Oh my deare childe, well hast thou heard with eare These weery newes, or rather wicked tales That this devine of thee devined hath : Yet will thy father never be thy foe, With cruell doome thy death for to consent. f Meneceus. You rather ought, O father, to consent Unto my death, since that my death No greater , . honor than may brmg ,„ ^^^ f^. Unto this towne both peace and vie- thy coun- torie. ^'^y- " Ne can I purchase more prayse worthy death Than for my countries wealth to lose my breath." ' ic Cre. I cannot prayse this witlesse will of thine. Me. " You know, deare father, that this life of ours Is brittle, short, and nothing else in deede But tedious toyle and pangs of endlesse payne ; And death, whose darte to some men Death (in- ■ seemes so fell, ^^f) >'^^^- T^ . . , 1 . . ,. - eth more Bongs quiet ende to this unquiet lite ; pleasure Unto which ende who soonest doth than lyfe. arrive. 296 ^ioca0ta iact m. Piu tosto dagli afFanni al suo riposo. Ma, posto che quaggiu non si sentisse Punto di noia, e non turbasse mai II bel nostro seren 1' empia fortuna ; 20 Essendo io nato per morir, non fora Opra di gloria, e chiaro nome degna A donar alia patria ov' io son nato Per lungo bene un breve spazio d' anni ? Io non credo ch' alcun questo mi neghi. 25 Or, se a vietar si gloriosa impresa Cagion sola di me, padre, vi move ; V avviso che cercate di levarmi Tutto il maggior onor ch' acquistar possa : Se per vostra cagion, dovete meno ; 30 Perocche quanto maggior parte avete In Tebe, tanto piii dovreste amarla. Appresso avete Emon, ch' in vece mia, Padre mio caro, rimarra con voi ; Onde, benche di me sarete privo, 35 Non sarete pero privo di iigli. Cre. Io non posse, o figliuol, se non bias- mare Questo ch' hai di morir troppo desio : Scene n.] J[Otn&tn 297 Finds soonest rest of all his restlesse griefe. And were it so, that here on earth we felte No pricke of paine, nor that our flattring dayes 20 Were never dasht by froward fortunes frowne, Yet being borne (as all men are) to dye, Were not this worthy glory and renowne — To yeelde the countrey soyle, where I was borne. For so long time so shorte a time as mine ? " ^5 I can not thinke that this can be denied. Then if to shunne this haughtie high behest, Mine onely cause, O father, doth you move. Be sure you seeke to take from me, your sonne, The greatest honor that I can attayne ; 30 But if your owne commoditie you move, So much the lesse you ought the same allowe ; For looke, how much the more you have in Thebes, So much the more you ought to love the same. Here have you Hemone, he that in my steade 35 (O my deare father) may with you remaine. So that, although you be deprived of me. Yet shall you not be quite deprived of heires. Cre. I can not chuse, deare sonne, but dis- alowe This thy too hastie, bote desire of death ; 40 24 borne^ MS. places a (?) after this word. 25 as mine f MS., is mine ! 298 €>ioca0ta [act m. Che, se della tua vita non ti cale, Ti dovrebbe doler di me tuo padre ; 40 II qual, quanto piu innanzi vo poggiando Nella vecchiezza, tanto ho piu bisogno Delia tua aita. lo gia negar non voglio Che '1 morir per la patria non apporti A gentil cittadin gloria et onore ; 45 M' allor quando si muor con 1' arme in mano, Non come bestia in sacriiizio uccisa. E se pur deve consentir alcuno, Per tal cagione, a volontaria morte, Debbo esser io quell' un ; che essendo visso 50 Assai corso di tempo, e breve e poco Quel che mi resta di fornir ancora : Et utile maggior la patria nostra Puo sperar, figliuol mio, dalla tua vita, Che sei giovane e forte, che non puote 55 Sperar da un vecchio, omai debole e stance. Vivi adunque, figliuol, ch' io morir voglio, Come di te gia di morir piu degno. Men. Degno non e si indegno cambio farsi. Cre. Se in tal morir e gloria, a me la dona. 60 Men. Non voi, me chiama a questa morte il Cielo. Cre. Ambi siamo un sol corpo, ambi una carne. Men. Padre, io debbo morir, non voi. Scene II.l 31oca0ta 299 For if thy life thou settest all so lighte, Yet oughtest thou thy father me respect, Who as I drawe the more to lumpishe age, So much more neede have I to crave thine ayde : Ne will I yet with stubborne tong denye, 45 " That for his common weale to spende his life, Doth win the subject high renoumed name. But howe ? in armour to defende the state. Not like a beast to bleede in sacrifice : " And therwithal, if any shoulde consent 50 To such a death, then should the same be I, That have prolonged life even long enough, [Ne] many dayes have I nowe to drawe on ; And more availe might to the countrie come, Deare sonne, to hold that lustie life of thine, 55 That art both yong and eke of courage stout. Than may by me that feeble am and olde. Then live, deare sonne, in high prosperitie. And give me leave, that worthy am, to dye. Me. Yet worthy were not that unworthy chaunge. 60 Cre. If such a death bring glorie, give it me. Me. Not you, but me, the heavens cal to die. Cre. We be but one in flesh and body both. Me. I, father, ought, so ought not you, to die. 43 lumpishe. MS., lymping. 53 Ne. Q2, Nay. MS. and Qi, Ne. Q3, Not. 300 ^tOtaS?ta [Act m. Cre. Morendo Tu, non pensar, iigliuol, ch' io resti in vita. Lassa adunque ch' io mora, che in tal modo Morra, figlio, chi deve, e morra un solo. Men. Padre, siccome, essendovi iigliuolo, Debito officio e 1' obbedirvi sempre ; Cosi in questo sarebbe empio e crudele II voler consentir a vostre voglie. Cre. Troppo sei ingenioso al proprio danno. Men.^ Pieta m' insegna a desiar tal morte. Cre. E ^2iTjTjO r uom che se medesmo uccide. Men. Savio e chi cerca d' obbedir ai Dei. Cre. Gia non vogliono i Dei d' alcun la morte. Men. Ei ci tolgon la vita, ei ce la danno. Cre. Questo sarebbe da se stesso torla. Men, Anzi obbedir a chi non vuol ch' io viva. Cre. Qual peccato, o iigliuol, ti danna a morte ? Men. Padre, chi e che non commetta errore ? Scene n.] ^OtdL&tU 3OI Cre. If thou, Sonne, die, thinke not that I can live : 65 Then let me die, and so shall he first die That ought to die, and yet but one shal die. Me. Although I, father, ought t'obey your hestes. Yet evill it were in this to yelde your will. Cre. Thy wit is wylie for to worke thy wo. 70 Ale. Oh, tender pitie moveth me thereto. Cre. " A beast is he that kils himselfe with a knife Of pitie to preserve an others life." Me. " Yet wise is he that doth obey the gods." Cre. The gods will not the death of any wight. 75 Me. "Whose life they take, they give him life also." Cre. But thou dost strive to take thy life thy selfe. Me. Nay them to obey that will I shall not live. Cre. What fault, O sonne, condemneth thee to death ? Me. " Who liveth (father) here without a fault ? " 80 69 e'vi/I it ivere. MS., well were not. Qi, evil were not, in this to. Qi, to this. 70 thy. Qi, this, 72 a. Omitted in MS. and Qi. 73 an. MS., some. 302 ^iocasfta [act m. Cre, Error non veggo in te degno di morte. Men. Lo vede Giove che discerne il tutto. Cre. Noi saper non potem qual e sua voglia. Men. Sapemo allor ch' ei ce la fa palese. Cre. Quasi ch' ei scenda a ragionar con noi. 85 Men. Per vari mezzi il suo secreto ei n' apre. Cre. Pazzo e ch' intender pensa il suo se- creto : E, per finir questa contesa nostra, lo ti dico che vo' ch' ambi viviamo ; Pero disponti ad ubbidirmi, e lascia 9° Questa ostinata tua non dritta voglia. Men. Voi potete di me quanto di voi : E poiche tanto v' e mia vita cara, lo la conservero, perche a tutt' ora Spender la possa a beneficio vostro. 95 Cre. Dunque e bisogno che tantosto sgombri Delia Citta, pria che Tiresia audace Pubblichi quel che non e inteso ancora. Men. Dove, et a qual Citta debbo ridurmi ? Scene H] 3|0CaSfta 3O3 Cre. I see no gylte In thee that death deserves. Me. But God it seeth that every secrete seeth. Cre. How shoulde we knowe what is the will of God ? Me. We knowe it then, when he reveales the same. Cre. As though he would come doune to tell it us ! ^5 Me. By divers meanes his secrets he disclos- eth. Cre. Oh, fonde is he, who thinkes to under- stand The mysteries of Jove his secrete mynde ; And for to ende this controversie here, Loe ! thus I say, I will we both live yet ; 90 Prepare thee then, my (*) hestes to Commaunde- holde and keepe, "^^nts. And pull a downe that stubborne heart of thyne. Me. You may of me as of your selfe dispose, And since my life doth seeme so deare to you, I will preserve the same to your availe, 95 That I may spende it alwayes to your wil. Cre. Then thee behoves out of this towne to flie. Before the bold and blinde Tyresias Doe publish this that is as yet unknowne. Me. And where, or in what place shall I be- come ? ^00 304 ^ioca0ta [act m. Ore. Dove da questa sii via piu lontano. i« Men. Voi comandar, io satisfarvi deggio. Cre. N' andrai al terreno di Tesbroti. Men. Dove La sacra fede e di Dodona ? Cre. Questa Intendo, o figlio. Men. E chi de' passi miei Sara guida e custode ? Cre. II padre Giove. 105 Men. Onde verra il sostegno alia mia vita ? Cre. Quivi io ti mandero gran copia d' oro. Men. Quando vi vedro io, padre mio caro ? Cre. Spero ch' in breve con maggior ventura. Or ti diparti; ch' ogni poco indugio 1 Mi potrebbe recar pena e tormento. Men. Prima toglier io vo', padre, congedo Dalla Reina, che, send' io rimaso Privo di madre, mi die il latte primo. Cre. Piu non tardar, figliuolo. Men. Ecco ch' io parto. 115 109 •ventura. O, D, venuta, corrected in " Printers^ Errors'*^ ofD. Scene IL] 3|OCa0ta 305 Cre. Where thou mayste be hence furthest out of sight. Me. You may commaunde, and I ought to obey. Cre. Go to the lande of Thesbeoita — Me. Where Dodona doth sit in sacred chaire ? Cre. Even there, my childe. 105 Me. And who shall guide my wandring steps ? Cre. High Jove. Me. Who shal give sustenance for my reliefe ? Cre. There will I send thee heapes of glist- ring golde. Me. But when shall I eftesoones my father see ? Cre. Ere long, I hope : but now, for now, depart ; For every lingring let or little stay no May purchase payne and torment both to me. Me. First would I take my conge of the Queene That, since the day my mother lost hir life, Hath nourisht me as if I were hir owne. 115 Cre. Oh, tarry not, my deare sonne, tarry not. Cre on goeth out by the gates Homoioydes. Me. Beholde, father, I goe. You dames of Thebes, 103 Thesbeoita. MS. and Qi, Thesbrotia. Hazlitt, Thes- protia. Creon , . . Homoioydes, MS. Qq put this before line 1 16. 306 SiOtnUtn [Act m. Donne, pregate voi pel mio ritorno. Vedete ben come malvagia Stella M' induce a gir della mia patria fuora : E, s* egli avvien ch' io finisca avante Questa mia giovenil dolente vita, Onoratemi voi del vostro pianto. In tanto anch' io per la salute vostra Preghero sempre, ov' io men vada, i Dei. CORO. Quando colei ch' in su la rota siede Volge il torbido aspetto Air uom che '1 suo seren godea felice, Non cessa di girar 1' instabil piede. Fin ch' ad ogni miseria il fa soggetto : E, come pianta svelta da radice, Egli non piu ritorna Onde r ha spinto quella, Del nostro ben rubella : E se pur torna, non puo gir di paro II dolce suo col gia gustato amaro. Scene II.] 3(|OCa0ta 307 Pray to almightie Jove for my retourne : You see how mine unhappie starres me drive To go my countrie fro; and if so chaunce 120 I ende in woe my pryme and lustie yeares, Before the course of nature do them call, Honor my death yet with your drery plaints ; And I shall eke, where so this carkas come. Pray to the gods that they preserve this towne. 125 Meneceus departeth by the gates Electrce. Chorus. When she that rules the rolling wheele of chaunce. Doth turne aside hir angrie frowning face On him, whom erst she deigned to advance, She never leaves to gaulde him with disgrace, To tosse and turne his state in every place, 5 Till at the last she hurle him from on high. And yeld him subject unto miserie : And as the braunche that from the root is reft, He never winnes like [leafe] to that he lefte ; Yea, though he do, yet can not tast of joy 10 Compare with pangs that past in his annoy. Well did the heavens ordeine for our behoofe i^ gaulde. Ql, galde. Q3, gall. 9 leafe. So in Qi, " Faultes escaped correction." MS., lefe. Qi (^.^0,Q2, Q3,life. 10 not. MS. and Qi, no. 308 MOtn&tn [Act m. Dura necessita ben pose il Cielo Sovra r umane cose j Che, per veder il nostro male avanti, (Come bendasse gli occhi oscuro velo) Perche non sian le voglie al ben ritrose, Non possiamo trovar riparo ai pianti : Onde la sorte ria Chi contende per forza Tira ; e chi alia sua forza Cede adduce in un punto alia ruina Che '1 Ciel per nostro mal spesso destina. Saggio nocchier, s' a gran periglio mira II combattuto legno Or quinci, or quindi da contrari venti, La, Ve grave del Ciel lo caccia 1' ira, Sol [c] a r ondoso regno, Quantunque del suo fin tremi e paventi : Perche conosce, e 'ntende Ch' a chi col ciel contrasta Uman saper non basta : Ond' ei, ponendo in Dio tutto '1 conforto, Sovente arriva al desiato porto. 22 C/ie 7 Gel. O, Che quel 27 so/ca. O, Dj solea. Chorus] 31OCa0ta 309 Necessitie and fates by them alowde, That when we see our high mishappes aloofe (As though our eyes were mufled with a cloude) 15 Our froward will doth shrinke it selfe, and shrowde From our availe, wherwith we runne so farre, As none amends can make that we do marre ; Then drawes evill happe and strives to shew his strength : And such as yeld unto his might, at length 20 He leades them by necessitie the way That destinie preparde for our decay. The mariner, amidde the swelling seas Who seeth his barke with many a billowe beaten, Now here, now there, as wind and waves best please, 25 When thundring Jove with tempest list to threaten. And dreades in depest gulfe for to be eaten, Yet learnes a meane by mere necessitie To save himselfe in such extremitie : For when he seeth no man hath witte nor powre 30 To flie from fate, when fortune list to lowre. His only hope on mightie Jove doth caste, Whereby he winnes the wished heaven at last. 33 heafen. MS. and Qi, haven. 310 ^iocasfta [actih. Sciocco e chi crede che '1 gran Padre eterno, Che la su tempra e move 35 Ad uno ad uno i bei lucenti giri, Non abbia di quaggiu tutto '1 governo A tal, che non si trove Poter che senza lui si stenda, o giri. O noi ciechi del tutto 40 E miseri mortali, Soggetti a tanti mali ; Che, per esser digiun di pene e guai, Meglio fora ad alcun non nascer mai. Poteva ben con la morte del figlio 45 (Se predir suole il vero Tiresia, del futur certo indovino) Trar la patria d' afFanno e di periglio : Ma lontano e '1 pensiero Dall' utile comun lungo cammino, 50 Quando far non si puote Senza alcun proprio danno. Ecco siccome vanno Dritto a ruina le pubbliche cose, Se a quelle le private alcun prepose. 55 Pur noi non cesseremo Di pregar, Giove, tua bonta, che toglia La Citta dell' assedio, e noi di doglia. 48 Trar . . . periglio. In " Printers' Errors " of O, Creonte trar la patria di periglio. Chorus] ^I^CaSfta 3II How fond is that man in his fantasie, Who thinks that Jove, the maker of us al, 35 And he that tempers all in heaven on high, The sunne, the mone, the starres celestiall, So that no leafe without his leave can fall. Hath not in him omnipotence also To guide and governe all things here below ! 4° O blinded eies, O wretched mortall wights, O subject slaves to every ill that lights. To scape such woe, such paine, such shame and scorne, Happie were he that never had bin borne ! Well might duke Creon, driven by destinie, 45 (If true it be that olde Tyresias saith) Redeme our citie from this miserie By his consent unto Aleneceus death. Who of himselfe wold faine have lost his breth : " But every man is loth for to fulfill 50 The heavenly best that pleaseth not his will. That publique weale must needes to ruine go. Where private profite is preferred so." Yet, mightie God, thy onlv aide we crave. This towne from siege and us from sorowe save. 55 42 /•//. MS. and Qi, evill. Finis Actus tertii. Done by G. Gascoygne. Done by G. Gascoygne. Ql omits. The order of the fourth dumbe shewe Before the beginning of this fourth Acte, the trumpets, drummes and fifes sounded, and a greate peale of ordinaunce was shot of: in the which ther entred upon the stage vi knights armed at al points : wherof three came in by the 5 gates Electrae, and the other three by the gates Homoloides : either parte beeing accompanied with vii other armed men : and after they had marched twice or thrice about the stage, the one partie menacing the other by their furious 10 lookes and gestures, the vi knights caused their other attendants to stand by, and drawing their swords, fell to cruell and couragious combate, continuing therein, till two on the one side were slayne. The third, perceiving that he only re- 15 mayned to withstand the force of iii enimies, did politiquely runne aside : wherewith immediatly one of the iii followed after him, and when he had drawen his enimie thus from his companie, hee turned againe and slewe him, Then the 20 2 the trumpets . . . fifes. MS. and Qi, the Trompetts sounded, the droomes and fyfes. ^\)t ortier of t\)t fourtt) Dumbe 0^etoe 313 seconde also ranne after him, whom he slewe in like manner, and consequently the thirde, and then triumphantly marched aboute the stage wyth hys sword in his hand. Hereby was noted the incomparable force of Concorde betwene 25 brethren, who as long as they holde togither may not easily by any meanes be overcome, and, being once dissevered by any meanes, are easily overthrowen. The history of the brethren Ho- ratii and Curiatii, who agreed to like combate 30 and came to like ende. After that the dead car- kasses were caried from the stage by the armed men on both parties, and that the victor was triumphantly accompanied out also, came in a messanger armed from the campe, seeking the 35 Queene, and to hir spake as foloweth. 26 Ao/de. Q3, doo holde. 34 also. Q({, comma before a/so instead of after. Atto Quarto. [SCENA I.] Nuncio f Gio casta. Nuncio. O saggie ancelle, o secretarie fide Delia vecchia Reina, or lei menate, Menate fuor, ch' io le rapporto nuova Che molto importa. Uscite fuori, uscite, Reina; e omai lasciate le querele, E alle parole mie porgete orecchia. Giocasta. O caro servo mio, di nuova pena Mi vien tu forse messaggiero ? Ahi lassa ; Ch' e d' Eteocle mio, di cui solevi Esser mai sempre in ogni impresa a lato, E gli facevi ogn' or riparo e scudo ? Viv' egli, o pur nella battaglia e morto ? Nun. Vive. Di questo non abbiate tema ; Che tosto io vi trarro di tal sospetto. Actus iiii. Scena i. Nuncius^ 'Jocasta. Nuncius commeth in by the gates Homoloides. \Nuncius?\^ O sage and sober dames, O shame- fast maids, O faithful servants of our aged Queene, Come, leade hir forth, sith unto hir I bring Such secrete newes as are of great importe. Come forth, O Queene, surceasse thy wofull plaint. And to my words vouchsafe a willing eare. The Queene with hir traine commeth out of hir pallace. "Jocasta. My servant deare, doest thou yet bring me newes Of more mishappe ? ah werie wretch, alas ! How doth Eteocles whom heretofore. In his encreasing yeares, I wonted ay. From daungerous happe with favoure to defend ? Doth he yet live ? or hath untimely death In cruell fight berefte his flowring life ? Nun, He lives (O Queene) : hereof have ye no doubt ; From such suspecte my selfe will quit you soone. II favoure. Hazlitt, fervoure. 15 you. MS., ye. 31 6 €^iOta0ta [Act IV. Gio. Han forse la cittade i Greci presa ? 15 Nun. Lo tolga Iddio. Gio. Forse le genti nostre Son rotte, o poste a qualche gran periglio ? Nun. Fur certo a gran periglio d' esser rotte, Poi n' hanno avuto la vittoria al fine. Gio. Ma che avvenuto e, oime, di Polinice ? 20 Mi sai tu raccontar s' e morto, o vivo ? Nun. Vive, o Reina, 1' uno, e V altro figlio. Gio. O di quanto dolor m* hai tratto fuori. Segui adunque, e mi di' siccome avete Ribattuti i nemici ; acciocch' io possa 25 Racconsolarmi di saper che sia Fin qui serbata la Citta di Tebe : Forse del resto allegrerammi Giove. Nun. Appena ebbe divisi i sette Duci II vostro forte e generoso figlio, 30 E postogli a difesa delle porte, Opponendo con ordine perfetto Alia cavalleria degli inimici La nostra, et ai pedon le genti a piedi; Scene I] ^OtU^tM 317 yoc. The ventrous Greekes have haply tane the towne ? N'un. The gods forbid ! yoc. Our souldiers, then, perchance Dispersed bene and yelden to the sword ? A'^un. Not so, they were at first in daunger sure, But in the end obteined victorie. 20 yoc. Alas, then what becommes of Polynice ? Oh, canst thou tell ? is he dead or alive ? Nun. You have (O Queene) yet both your sonnes alive. yoc. Oh, how my harte is eased of his paine ! Well, then, proceede, and briefly let me heare 25 How ye repulst your proud presuming foes, That thereby yet at least I may assuage The swelling sorrowes in my dolefull brest, In tha't the towne is hitherto preservde : And for the rest, I trust that [mightie] Jove 30 Will yeld us ayde. N'un. No soner had your worthy valiant sonne Severde the dukes into seaven severall partes. And set them to defence of severall gates. And brought in brave arraye his horssemen out 35 First to encounter with their mightie foen, And likewise pitcht the footemen face to face 24 his. MS. and Qi, this. 36 mightie, so in MS. Q2, might. 3i8 ^ioca^ta [activ. | Che veggiamo 1' esercito accostarsi 35 A' primi fossi onde la terra e cinta. Allora insieme le nemiche trombe, | E le Tebane parimente diero I Orribil segno di spietata guerra. Cominciaro gli Argivi a dar 1' assalto 4° Alia Cittade, e i nostri dalle mura Con pietre, dardi, fuochi, e calci, e travi, Quanto potevan, gli tenean lontani. Con tutto cio, dopo molta contesa; Onde infiniti ne fur morti e guasti: 45 Gli Argivi s' accostar sotto le mura. I Di lor fu allora un Capitan superbo, Chiamato Capaneo, primo a salire; Dietro del qual salir molt' altri ancora. Cosi quel sette Capitani eletti; 5° Scene I.] 3flOCa0ta 3^9 Against the footemen of their enimies, But fiercely straight the armies did approche, Swarming so thicke as coverde cleane the fielde, 40 When dreadfull blast of braying trumpets sounde, Of dolefull drummes, and thundring cannon shot Gave hideous signe of horrour of the fight. Then gan the Greekes to give their sharpe assaulte, Then from the walls our stout couragious men 45 With rolling stones, with paisse of hugie beames, With flying dartes, with flakes of burning fire, And deadly blowes did beate them backe againe. Thus striving long with stout and bloudie fighte (Whereby full many thousande slaughtered were), 5° The hardie Greeks came underneath the walls: Of whome first Capaney (a lustie knight) Did scale the walls, and on the top thereof Did vaunt himselfe, when manv hundred moe With fierce assaultes did follow him as fast. 55 Then loe, the Captaines seaven bestirrde them- selves 43 of horrour. Hazlitt, O horrour! 50 thousande. MS., thousandes. 320 ^iocas^ta [act iv. De' quali gia n' avete inteso il nome; Chi di qua, chi di la gagliardamente Espugnavan di noi le sette porte : E Polinice vostro avea drizzata Tutta alia maggior porta la sua schiera: 55^ Quando discese un folgore dal Cielo Che Capaneo, quel Capitan, percosse, E nel fece cader morto la, dove A chi '1 vide cader gelossi il sangue. Quel che salir volean da quella parte Sossopra traboccar giu per le scale. Allora, riprendendo ardir e forza I nostri, risospinsero gli Argivi. Quivi v' era Eteocle, et io con lui; Che rimesse le genti alle difese, 65, Accorse all' altre porte, e a' spaventati Porgeva animo e forza, et agli arditi Accresceva il valor con le parole. Intanto, avendo il Re d' Argivi inteso Di Capaneo la formidabil morte, Parendo a lui d' aver nimico Giove, L' esercito ritrasse oltra la fossa. Ma r incauto Eteocle, assecurato Nel buono Augurio, spinse fuor di Tebe Scene I.] 3l0CaS?ta 3^1 (Whose names ye have alreadie understoode), Some here, some there, nought dreading losse of Hfe, With new reliefe to feede the fainting breach; And Polynice, he bended all the force 60 Of his whole charge against the greatest gate, When sodenly a flashe of lightning flame From angrie skies strake captaine Capaney That there downe dead he fell : at sight whereof The gazers on were fraught with soden feare. 65 The rest, that strove to mount the walles so fast. From ladders toppe did headlong tumble downe. Herewith our men, encouragde by good happe, Toke hardy harts, and so repulst the Grekes. Ther was Eteocles, and I with him, 70 Who setting first those souldiers to their charge, Ranne streight to thother gates ; unto the weake He manly comforte gave : unto the bold His lusty words encreased courage still. In so much as th'amased Grecian king, 75 When he did heare of Capaney his death, Fearing thereby the gods became his foen. Out from the trench withdrewe his wearie host. But rashe Eteocles (presuming too, too much Uppon their flight) did issue out of Thebes, 80 322 ^iocasfta [act iv. Immantlnente la cavalleria, 75 Et in mezzo a' nemici audace diede. Lungo fora a contar quanti di loro Ne fur uccisi, mal menati, e spinti. Si sentiva per tutto alto rumore Di voci, gridi, gemiti, e lamenti : 80 S' orribile giammai si disse morte, Quivi, Reina fu, quivi mostrossi. Or fino a questo di levata abbiamo Di prender la citta la speme ai Greci: Ma che dappoi succeda un lieto fine, 85 Questo io non so ; che n' ha la cura Giove. Ora e il vincer altrui lodevol cosa, Ma molto piu fu sempre il seguir bene La vittoria, che spesso cangia stile. Ma di questo Reina, anco saremo 90 Tutti felici, purche piaccia ai Dei. Gio. Buono e questo successo, e veramente Qual gia per me non si sperava molto ; Che salva e la Cittade, e i miei figliuoli (Siccome mi racconti) ambi son vivi. 95 Ma segui ancora in raccontarmi quello Ch' essi tra lor nel fine hanno disposto. Nun. Non cercate, Reina, intender altro, Che insino a qui siete felice assai. Scene L] ^OCU&tU 323 And forwarde straight with strength of chivalrie His flying foes couragiously parsude. Too long it were to make recompt of all That wounded bene, or slaine, or captive now : The cloudy ayre was filled round aboute 85 With houling cries and wofull wayling plaints. So great a slaughter (O renowmed Queene) Before this day I thinke was never scene. Thus have we now cut of the fruitlesse hope The Grecians had to sacke this noble towne. 90 What jovfull end will happen hereunto Yet know I not : the gods tourne all to good ! " To conquere, lo, is doubtlesse worthy praise, But wisely for to use the conquest gotte, Hath ever wonne immortall sound of fame." 95 Well, yet therewhile in this we may rejoyce, Sith heaven and heavenly powers are pleasde therewith. Joe. This good successe was luckie, sure, and such As, for my parte, I little loked for : To save the towne and eke to have my sonnes 100 (As you report) preserved yet alive. But yet proceede, and further let me know The finall ende that they agreed upon. Nun. No more (O Queene) : let this for now suffise ; Sith hitherto your state is safe inough. 105 324 €>iOta0ta [Act IV. Gio. Questo tuo dir m' ingombra di sospetto, loo E desio di saper di maggior cosa. Nun. Che piii intender potete, avendo inteso Che r uno e V altro figlio e senza ofFesa? Gio. Vo' saper quel che resta, o bene, o male. Nun. Lasciate ch' io ritorni ove Eteocle 105 Ha gran bisogno dell' officio mio. Gio, M' avveggo ben che mi nascondi il peg- gio. Nun. Non fate dopo '1 ben racconti il male. Gio. Di, se cader non vuoi nell' ira mia. Nun. Poiche volete udir novella trista, no Io non la tacero. Sappiate come I vostri figli hanno conchiuso insieme Di cosa far, ch' e scellerata e ria: Si son sfidati a singolar battaglia; Onde forza e ch' un viva, e 1' altro pera, 115 O che forse periscano ambedue. Gio. Ahi, che sempre io temei d' intender questo. Nun. Poich' in somma v' ho detto quel ch' udito 116 . . . ambedue. Not in O. Scene I] 31OCa0ta 325 Joe. These words of thine do whelme my jealous mind With great suspecte of other mischiefes hidde. Nun. What would you more, alredy being sure That both your sonnes in safetie do remaine ? Joe. I long to know the rest, or good or bad. no Nun. O let me now retourne to Eteocles, That of my service greatly stands in neede. Joe. Right well I see, thou doest conceale the woorst. Nun. Oh, force me not, the good now beeing past. To tell the yll. 115 Joe. Tell it, I say, on paine of our displeas- ure. Nun. Since thus ye seeke to heare a dolefuli tale, I will no longer stay : witte ye, therefore. Your desperate sonnes togither be agreed For to attempt a wicked enterprise; 120 To private fight they have betroutht themselves, Of which conflicte the ende must needes be this. That one do live, that other die the death. Joe. Alas, alas, this did I ever feare. Nun. Now, sith in summe I have revealed that, 125 106 do. MS., doth. 108 pu. MS. and Qi, ye. 326 ^iocas^ta [act iv. Voi non potete aver senza cordoglio, Or seguiro partitamente il tutto. 120 Poiche '1 vittorioso vostro figlio I nimici caccio fin dei ripari, Fermossi : indi gridar fece a un trombetta : Principi Argivi, che venuti sete Per dipredar i nostri dolci campi, 125 E noi scacciar fuor della patria nostra, Non vogliate che tante anime, e tante In questa guerra scendano all' Inferno Sol per cagion dell' empio Polinice: Ma consentite che ambi in questo giorno 130 Da solo a solo combattendo insieme La grave question nata fra loro, Vi si tolga di mano ogni fatica: Et acciocche ciascun di voi conosca L' utile e '1 ben che ve ne puo seguire 135 II mio Signor vi fa questo partito: Vuol che, s' avvien che nella pugna cada, La Citta sia in poter di Polinice : Ma s' avverra, come e ragion ch' avvegna, Che '1 giusto Signor nostro uccida lui, 140 Altro da voi piu non ricerca, o chiede, Se non che voi vi ritorniate in Argo. Appena di gridar queste parole 122 dei, O, nei. Scene I] ^lOCa^tH 3^7 Which you have heard with great remorse of mind, I will proceede at large to tell the whole. When your victorious sonne with valiant force Had chast his foes into their joyning tents, Even there he staide, and straight at sound of trumpe 130 With stretched voice the herault thus pro- claimde : " You princely Greekes, that hither be arrived To spoile the fruite of these our fertile fields, And us to drive from this our native soile, O suffer not so many giltlesse soules 135 By this debate descend in Stygian lake For private cause of wicked Polynice ; But rather let the brethren, hand to hand. By mutuall blowes appease their furious rage, And so to cease from sheding further bloud. 140 And to the end you all might understand The profite that to every side may fall. Thus much my lord thought good to profer you. This is his will, if he be overcome. Then Polynice to rule this kingly realme ; 145 If so it happe (as reason would it should) Our rightfull prince to conquere Polvnice, That then no one of you make more adoo, But straight to Argos ile hast home againe." This thus pronounst unto the noble Greeks, 150 328 6iocafifta [act iv, II Trombetta fini, che Polinice Si fece inmanzi alle Tebane squadre; 145 E a' detti di colui cosi rispose : Non fratel, ma nemico del mio sangue; II partito che fai mi piace tanto, Che senza difFerir si bella impresa, Ecco ch' armato io mi dimostro al campo. 15° Si mosse il nostro Re con la prestezza Che suol Falcon, che visto abbia la preda ; L' uno e r altro era armato, e cinta avea La spada al fianco ; onde fur date ad ambi Due grosse lancie. Ad Eteocle fero 155 I nostri cerchio ; e gli dicean ch' avesse Nella memoria come combatteva Per conservar la patria, e ch' in lui solo Era di tutti la salute posta. A Polinice il Re disse che essendo 160 Ei vincitor come sperava, in segno Delia vittoria, egli votava a Giove Di alzar in Argo una gran statua d' oro. Ma voi cercate d' impedir la pugna, Reina, pria che piii ne segua avanti : 165 Scene I] 3l0CaS?Ca 329 No soner did the sound of trumpet cease, But Polynice stept forth before the host, And to these words this answere did he make : " O thou, not brother, but my mortall foe. Thy profer here hath pleased me so well 155 As presently, without more long delay, I yeld myselfe prepared to the field." Our noble king no soner heard this vaunt, But forth as fast he prest his princely steppes With eger mind, as hoovering falcon woonts 160 To make hir stoope, when pray appeares in sight. At all assayes they both were bravely armed, To cithers side his sword fast being girt ; In cithers hand was put a sturdy launce. About Eteocles our souldiers cloong 165 To comforte him, and put him then in mind He fought for safetie of his country soile, And that in him consisted all their hope. To Polynice the king Adrastus swore, If he escaped victor from the fielde, 170 At his returne he would in Greece erecte A golden image unto mightie Jove In signe of his triumphing victorie. But all this while seeke you, O noble Queene, To hinder this your furious sonnes attempte : 175 Intreat the gods it may not take efFecte, 330 ^iocasfta [act iv. Altramente sarete in questo giorno O d' uno almeno, o d' ambi i figli priva. [SCENA 2.] Giocastay Antigone. Giocasta. Antigone, figliuola, esci di fuora Di questa casa di mestizia e pianto : Esci, non per cagion di canti o balli ; Ma per vietar, se puoi, che i tuoi fratelli Oggi con r empie man miseramente 5 Non si traggan del corpo il sangue e 1' alma, E' nsieme con la madre escan di vita. Antigone. Madre, mia cara madre, Oime, perche, formate Con lacrimosi accenti 10 Queste voci dolenti ? Che vi molesta, oime ? che vi molesta ? G'lo. Figliuola, i tuoi fratelli, Sangue del sangue mio : Se non lo toglie Dio, 15 Oggi saranno spenti. Scene II.] 3!OCa0ta 331 Els must you needes ere long deprived be Of both your sonnes, or of the one at least. Nuncius returneth to the camp by the gates Homoloydes, [SCENA 2.] Jocasta, Antigone. [Jocasta.'] Antigone, my swete daughter, come forth Out of this house, that nought but woe re- taines : Come forth, I sav, not for to sing or daunce. But to prevent, if in our powers it lie. That thy malicious brethren, swolne with ire. And I, alas ! their miserable mother. Be not destroide by stroke of dreadfull death. Antigone commeth out of hir mother* s Pal- lace. Antigone. Ah, swete mother ! ah, my beloved mother ! Alas, alas ! what cause doth move ye now From trembling voice to send such carefull cries ? What painefull pang, what griefe doth gripe you now? 178 at least. MS. adds, Nuntius exit. ll you. MS., ye. 332 ^iocasita [act iv. Ant, Oime, che dite, oime, che cosa dite? Oime, potro sofFrir di veder morto Quel che tanto bramai di veder vivo ? Gio. Ambi sfidati sono 20 (Oime, ch' io tremo a dirlo) A scellerata guerra. Jnt. Eteocle crudele : O crudele Eteocle, Tu solo sei cagione 25 Di questa crudeltade ; Non Polinice mio, Che tu si crudelmente Hai della patria privo, Et or cerchi (ahi crudel) privar di vita. 30 Gio. Non pi{i si tardi, o figlia, andiamo, an- diamo. Jnt. Dove volete voi, Madre, ch' io ven^a ? venga Gio. Voglio, Figlia, che venghi meco Air esercito Greco. 35 Jnt. Ah, che venir non posso Senza vergogna, e tema, Se non della mia vita, Almeno del mio onore. Gio. Non e tempo, o figliuola, 40 Di riguardar a onore ; Ma ben di procurar, se noi potiamo, 11 Scene H] JlOCaSfta 333 Joe. O, deare daughter, thy most unhappie brethren, That sometimes lodgde within these wretched loynes. Shall die this day, if Jove prevent it not. Ant. Alas ! what say you ? alas, what do you say ? 15 Can I, alas ! endure to see him dead. Whom I thus long have sought to see alive ? Joe. They both have vowde (I quake, alas ! to tell) With trenchant blade to spill eche others blood. Ant. O cruell Eteocles ! ah, ruthlesse wretch ! *© Of this outrage thou only art the cause. Not Polynice, whom thou with hatefuU spight Hast reaved first of crowne and countrie soyle, And now doest seeke to reave him of his life. Joe. Daughter, no more delay : lets go, lets go. 25 Ant. Ah, my sweete mother, whither shall I go? Joe. With me, deere daughter, to the Greek- ish host. Ant. Alas, how can I go, unles I go In daunger of my life, or of good name ? Joe. Time serves not now, my well-beloved childe, 30 20 Ant. Qi omits 334 ^iorasfta [activ. Impedir che non segua Quel che, a pensarlo solo, Mi trae 1' alma del petto. 45 Jnt. Andiamo, andiamo, o madre. Ma che potremo noi, Voi debol vecchia, et io Impotente fanciulla ? Gio. Faranno le parole, 5° I preghi, e 'nsieme i pianti Quel che non puo ragione, Ne autorita, ne forza. E quando fian tutti i rimedi vani, Io mi porro tra loro, 55 E saro col mio petto Air uno e 1' altro scudo, Tal che aprano le mie, non le lor carni. M' affrettati, figliuola ; Che, s' arriviamo a tempo, 60 Restera forse in piede Questa mia stanca vita ; Se tardi, io t' assecuro Che con i miei figliuoli Oggi sara fornita ; 65 E tu, figlia dolente, Scene H] JOCaSfta 335 To way the losse of life or honest name, But rather to prevent, if so we rnay. That wicked deede, which only but to thinke Doth hale my hart out of my heavie brest. Ant, Come then, lets go, good mother, let us go; 35 But what shall we be able for to doe — You a weake old woman forworne with yeares And I, God knows, a silly simple mayde ? "Joe. Our wofull wordes, our prayers and our plaintes, Pourde out with streames of overflowing teares, 40 Where nature rules, may happen to prevayle. When reason, power and force of armes do fayle. But if the glowing heate of boyling wrath So furious be, as it may not relent. Then I atwixt them both will throw my selfe, 45 And this my brest shall beare the deadly blowes. That otherwise should light upon my sonnes : So shall they shead my bloud and not their owne. Well now, deere daughter, let us hasten hence. For if in time we stay this raging strife, 5° Then haply may my life prolonged be. If, ere we come, the bloudy deede be done. Then must my ghost forsake this feeble corps, 336 ^ioca0ta [act iv. Questo di piangerai La madre, et i fratelli ; CORO. Chi provato ha giammai Quanto e possente e caldo L' amor ch' a' propri figli Porta pietosa madre ? Costei, non altra, puote 5 Comprender quanto sia Infinito il dolore Ch' ora trafigge il core Delia Reina nostra. Oime, ch' a tal martire 10 Non e martir eguale. lo tremo tutta, io tremo Di paura e d' orrore, Pensando al fiero e miserabil case. Oime, che due fratelli, 15 Che sono un sangue istesso, Corrano all' arme, e P uno e P altro cerchi Di sparger il suo sangue ! Ah, cruda Stella, Ah, troppo acerba e fella : Ah, reo destine, Non consentir che avvenga 20 Tanta scelleritade : Chorus] 31OCa0ta 337 And thou, deare childe, with dolour shalt be- waile Thy brothers death and mothers all at once. 55 Jocasta with Antigone and all hir traine {^ex- cepte the Chorus) goeth towards the campe by the gates Homoloydes. Chorus. Whoso hath felt what faith and ferv^ent love A mother beares unto hir tender sonnes, She and none other sure can comprehende The dolefull griefe, the pangs and secret paine, That presently doth pierce the princely brest 5 Of our afflicted Queene : alas ! I thinke No martyrdome might well compare with hirs. So ofte as I recorde hir restlesse state, Alas ! me thinkes I feele a shivering feare Flit to and fro along my flushing vaines. 10 Alas for ruth, that thus two brethren shoulde Enforce themselves to shed each others bloud. Where are the lawes of nature nowe become ? Can fleshe of fleshe, alas ! can bloud of bloud So far forget it selfe, as slay it selfe ? 15 O lowring starres, O dimme and angrie skies, O geltie fate, suche mischiefe set aside. I hath felt. MS., hath ever felt. faith and^ omitted in MS. and Q i . 7 might. MS., may. 17 geltie. MS., Qi, Q3, gilty. 338 €^ioca0ta [activ. E s' ella avvien, come potro, infelice, Pianger T afFanno e '1 duolo Delia pia genitrice ? Anzi la propria morte ; 25 La miserabil morte De' figliuoli, e di lei ? E con la morte la ruina espressa Delia casa d' Edipo ? Ma ecco a noi Creonte 30 Tutto pien di tristezza, Se r interno del cor dimostra il volte E tempo ch' io finisca Questi giusti lamenti. [ScENA 3.] Creonte y Nuncio. Creonte. Quantunque abbia commesso a mio figliuolo, Che si parta di Tebe per salvarsi, E si gran pezzo e che da me si tolse ; Nondimeno io non sto senza paura Che, air uscir delle porte, alcun non gli abbia 5 Impedito '1 cammino, sospettando Di qualche tradimento ; e in questo mezzo L' Indovin, pubblicando il suo secreto, L' abbia fatto cader a quella morte Che cercai forsi di schifarli indarno. Scene IH] 3l0CaS?ta 339 But if supernall powers decreed have That death must be the ende of this debate, Alas ! what floudes of teares shall then suffise To weepe and waile the neere approching death — I meane the death of sonnes and mother both, And with their death the ruine and decay Of Oedipus and his princely race! But loe, here Creon commes with carefull cheare; Tis time that now I ende my just complaint. Creon commeth in by the gates Homoloydes. [SCENA 3.] Creon, Nuncius. \_Creon.~\ Although I straightly charg [d] e my tender childe To flee from Thebes for safegarde of him selfe, And that long since he parted from my sight, Yet doe I greatly hang in lingring doubt Least, passing through the gates, the privie watch Hath stayed him by some suspect of treason. And so therewhile the prophets having skride His hidden fate, he purchast have the death Which I by all meanes sought he might eschewe ; 1 chargde. MS., chardgde. Qi, chargde. Q2, Q3, charge. 2 flee. MS., Qi, flie. 340 €^ioca0ta [act iv. E tanto io temo piu di questo fine, Quanto poc' anzi la vittoria ho intesa Ottenuta da noi nel primo assalto. Ma r uom prudente con pazienza deve Sostener ogni colpo di Fortuna. 15 Nuncio. Oime, chi fia colui che mi dimostri Ov' e il fratel della Reina nostra ? Ma ecco, ch' egli e qui tutto sospeso. Ore. Se '1 cuor del proprio mal fu mai pre- sage, Certo costui, che di me cerca, apporta 20 (Misero me) del mio figliuol la morte. Nun. Signor, quel che temete appunto e il vero, Che '1 vostro Meneceo non e piu in vita. Cre. Ahi, che non si puo gir contra le stelle : Ma non conven a me, ne agli anni miei as Sparger per gran dolor stilla di pianto. Contami tu com' egli e morto, e quale La forma e stata di sua morte, ch' io Ti prometto ascoltar con gli occhi asciutti : Nun. Sappiate, Signor mio, che '1 vostro figlio 30 Venne innanzi a Eteocle, e disse a lui Con alta voce, che ciascuno intese : Re, la vittoria nostra, e la salute Scene m.] 3IOCa0ta 341 And this mischaunce so much I feare the more, lo How much the wished conquest at the first Fell happily unto the towne of Thebes. " But wise men ought with patience to sustaine The sundrie haps that slipperie fortune frames." Nuncius commeth in by the gates Electrce. Nuncius. Alas, who can direct my hastie steppes 15 Unto the brother of our wofull Queene ? But loe ! where carefully he standeth here ! Cre. If so the minde may dread his owne mishap, Then dread I much, this man that seekes me thus Hath brought the death of my beloved sonne. 20 Nun. My lorde, the thing you feare is very true. Your Sonne Meneceus no longer lives. Cre. Alas, who can withstand the heavenly powers ? Well, it beseemes not me, ne yet my yeares In bootelesse plaint to wast my wailefuU teares ; 25 Do thou recount to me his lucklesse deathe. The order, forme and manner of the same. Nun. Your sonne (my lorde) came to Eteo- cles. And tolde him this in presence of the rest : " Renoumed king, neither your victorie, 30 342 iSiocasfta [act iv. Delia Citta non e riposta in arme, Ma consiste, Signer, nella mia morte : 35 Cosi ricerca, anzi comanda Giove. Onde, sapendo il beneficio ch' io Posso far alia patria, ben sarei Di si degna Cittade ingrato figlio, Se al maggior uopo io ricusassi usarlo. 40 Qui pria vestei, Signor, la mortal gonna, E qui onesto fia ben ch' io me ne spogli. Pero, dappoiche cosi place ai Dei, Uccido me, perche viviate voi. Cortesi Cittadin, V officio vostro 45 Sara poi d' onorar il corpo mio Di qualche sepoltura, ove si legga : Qui Meneceo per la sua patria giace : Cosi disse, e col fin delle parole Trasse il pugnal, e se 1' ascose in petto. 50] Cre. Pill non seguir, e la ritorna donde Venuto sei. Poiche '1 mio sangue deve scxNE III] Jlocasfta 343 Ne yet the safetie of this princely realme In armour doth consist, but in the death Of me, of me, (O most victorious king) — So heavenly dome of mightie Jove commaunds. I (knowing what avayle my death should yeeld 35 Unto your grace and unto native land) Might well be deemde a most ungratefull sonne Unto this worthy towne, if I would shunne The sharpest death to do my countrie good. In mourning weede now let the vestall nimphes, 40 With [playnyng] tunes commend my faultlesse ghost To highest heavens, while I despoyle my selfe, That afterwarde (sith Jove will have it so) To save your lives, I may receyve my death. Of you I crave, O curteous citizens, 45 To shrine my corps in tombe of marble stone. Whereon grave this : Meneceus here doth lie^ For countries cause that was content to die.^^ This saide, alas ! he made no more adoe. But drewe his sword, and sheathde it in his brest. 50 Cre. No more : I have inough ; returne ye nowe From whence ye came. Nu?icius returneth by the gates Electra, Well, since the bloud of my beloved sonne 36 Unto. MS., to my. 41 playnyng. So in MS. Qi, fauning. Q2, Q3, faining. 344 ^ioca^ta [activ. Purgar V ira di Giove, ed esser quello Che solo pace alia Cittade apporti ; £ ben anco ragion ch' io sia signore 55 Di Tebe ; e ne saro forse col tempo Per bontade, o per forza. Questo e il nido Delle scelerita. La mia sorella Sposo il figliuol che prima uccise il padre, E di tal empio abbominoso seme 60 Nacquero i due fratei, ch' or son trascorsi Air odio si, ch' o questo, o quel iia spento. Ma perche tocca a me ? perche al mio sangue Portar la pena degli altrui peccati ? O felice quel nuncio che mi dica : 65 Creonte, i tuoi nipoti ambi son morti : Vedrassi allor che differenza sia Da Signor a Signor ; e quanto nuoce L' aver servito a giovane alcun tempo. Io vo di qui, per far ch' al mio figliuolo 70 S' apparecchin 1' esequie ; che saranno 54 pace. O, place. Scene III.] 3IOCa0ta 345 Must serve to slake the wrath of angrie Jove, And since his onely death must bring to Thebes 55 A quiet ende of hir unquiet state, Me thinkes good reason would that I henceforth Of Thebane soyle should beare the kingly swaye : Yea sure, and so I will, ere it be long. Either by right or else by force of armes. 60 Of al mishap loe here the wicked broode ! My sister first espoused hath hir sonne That slewe his sire, of whose accursed seede Two brethren sprang, whose raging hatefull hearts By force of boyling yre are bolne so sore, 65 As each do thyrst to sucke the others bloude : But why do I sustaine the smart hereof? Why should my bloud be spilt for others gilte ! Oh, welcome were that messenger to a„„^„.. ■' to Any messen- me ger is wel- That broup;ht me word of both my ^°™^ ^^^ ? J , ^ bringeth nephewes deathes : ^dings of Then should it soone be sene in every advance- eye, "'""^• Twixt prince and prince what difference would appeare. Then should experience shewe what griefe it is To serve the humours of unbridled youth. Now will I goe for to prepare with speede 75 The funerals of my yong giltlesse sonne. 346 ^ioca0ta [act iv. Debitamente accompagnate forse Dair esequie del corpo d' Eteocle. CORO. Alma Concordia, che, prodotta in seno Del gran Dio degli Dei, Per riposo di noi scendesti in terra ; Tu sola cagion sei Che si governi il Ciel con giusto freno, "'$ E che non sia tra gli elementi guerra. In te si chiude, e serra Virtu tanto p'ossente, Che quei regge, e mantiene : E da te sola viene lo Tutto quel ben che fa 1' umana gente Gustar quanto e giocondo Questo che da' mortali e detto mondo. Tu pria da quel confuso antico stato, Privo d' ogni ornamento, 15 Dividesti la Macchina celeste : Chorus.] 3|OCa0ta 347 The which perhaps may be accompanyed With th'obsequies of proude Eteocles. Cleo7i goeth out by the gates Homoloydes. Finis Actus 4. Chorus. O blisful concord, bredde in sacred brest Of him that guides the restlesse rolling sky, That to the earth for mans assured rest From heigth of heavens vouchsafest downe to flie, In thee alone the mightie power doth lie 5 With swete accorde to kepe the frouning starres And every planet else from hurtfuU warres. In thee, in thee such noble vertue bydes, As may commaund the mightiest gods to bend, From thee alone such sugred frendship slydes lo As m.ortall wightes can scarcely comprehend : To greatest strife thou setst delightfull ende, O holy peace, by thee are onely founde The passing joyes that every where abound. Thou, onely thou, through thy celestiall might, 15 Didst first of al the heavenly pole devide 348 ^iocas^ta [act iv. Tu facesti contento Deir influsso, e dell' ordine a lui dato Ogni Pianeta : e per te quelle e queste, A girar cosi preste, 20 Stelle vaghe et erranti Scoprono agli occhi nostri I lor bei lumi santi : E tosto che dal mar Febo si mostri, Per te lieto et adorno 25 Risplende il Ciel di luminoso giorno. Tu sola sei cagion ch' a Primavera Nascano erbette e fiori, E vada estate de' suoi frutti carca. Tu sola a' nostri cori 30 Spiri fiamma d' amor pura e sincera, Per cui non e la stirpe umana parca (Mentre a morte si varca) Di propagar sua prole ; Tal ch' ogni spezie sempre 35 Con dolci amiche tempre Si perpetua quaggiu fin che '1 Ciel vuole : Onde la terra e poi D' uomini, e d' animai ricca fra noi. Per te le cose umil s' ergono al Cielo, 40J E ovunque il pie si move, Pace tranquilla i cuor soave e cara : Chorus.] 31OCa0ta 349 From th'olde confused heape that Chaos hight Thou madste the sunne, the moone, and starres to glide With ordred course about this world so wide; Thou hast ordainde Dan Tytans shining light 20 By dawne of day to chase the darkesome night. When tract of time returnes the lustie Ver, By thee alone the buddes and blossomes spring, The iieldes with floures be garnisht every where, The blooming trees aboundant fruite do bring, 25 The cherefull birds melodiously do sing. Thou dost appoint the crop of sommers seede For mans reliefe to serve the winters neede. Thou doest inspire the heartes of princely peeres By providence proceeding from above, 30 In flowring youth to choose their worthie feeres, With whome they live in league of lasting love. Till fearefuU death doth flitting life remove, And loke, how fast to death man payes his due. So fast againe doste thou his stocke renue. 35 By thee the basest thing advaunced is. Thou every where dost grafFe such golden peace 350 €>iocasfta [activ. Per te di glole nove Sempre 1' uomo e ripieno al caldo e al gelo, Ne lo turba giammai novella amara. 45 Per te sola s' impara Vita senza martire : E per te al fin si regge Con ferma e salda legge Qui ciascun Regno : e non puo mai perire 50 Mortal Dominio, se '1 tuo braccio eterno, Madre di tutti i ben, tiene il governo. Ma senza te la legge di natura Si solverebbe; e senza Te le maggior Citta vanno a ruina. 55 Senza la tua presenza La madre col figliuol non e secura, E zoppa la ragion, debole, e china. Senza di te meschina E nostra vita ogn' ora ; 60 E, s' io dritto discerno, II mondo oscuro inferno D' ogni miseria : e sasselo oggimai Questa nostra Citta piti ch' altra mai. Gia mi par di sentir lagrime e pianti 65 Risonar d' ogni 'ntorno, E le voci salir sino alle stelle : Veggio il caro soggiorno Quinci e quindi lasciar meste e tremanti, E per tutto gridar donne e donzelle. 70 Chorus.] 31OCa0ta 351 As iilleth man with more than earthly blisse ; The earth by thee doth yelde hir swete in- crease ; At becke of thee all bloudy discords cease, 40 And mightiest realmes in quiet do remaine, Wheras thy hand doth holde the royall [reine.] But if thou faile, then al things gone to wracke ; The mother then doth dread hir naturall childe, Then every towne is subject to the sacke, 45 Then spotlesse maids, then virgins be deiilde, Then rigor rules, then reason is exilde : And this, thou woful Thebes, to our great paine. With present spoile art likely to sustaine. Me thinke[s] I heare the wailfull weeping cries 50 Of wretched dames in everie coast resound : Me thinkes I see, how up to heavenly skies From battred walls the thundring clappes re- bound : Me thinke [s] I heare, how all things go to ground ; Me thinke [s] I see, how souldiers wounded lye 55 With gasping breath, and yet they can not dye. 42 reine. MS., raigne. Qz, raine. 46 then. Q3, the. 50, 54, 55 Me thinkes, Qq, Me thinke. MS., Me thinks. 352 ^ioca0ta [Act IV. Gia le nuove empie e felle Mi sembra udir, ond' io Chiamo felice sorte Quella ch' a darsi morte Condusse Meneceo, benigno e pio Verso la patria : e voglia Dio che sia Salva col suo morir la Citta mia. Santo, cortese Padre, A te mi volgo, e sprezzo ogn' altra aita: Soccorri alia Citta, che solo puoi. Fa che V error d' altrui non nuoccia a noi. 75 80 Chorus.] 3iOCa0ta 353 By meanes wherof, oh swete Meneceus, he That gives for countries cause his guiltlesse life, Of others all most happy shall he be : His ghost shall flit from broiles of bloudy strife 60 To heavenly blisse, where pleasing joyes be rife : And would to God, that this his fatall ende From further plagues our citie might defend. O sacred God, give eare unto thy thrall. That humbly here upon thy name doth call, 65 O let not now our faultlesse bloud be spilt For hote revenge of any others gilt. Fims Actus quarti. Done by F. Kinwelmarshe, The order of the laste dumbe shewe First the stillpipes sounded a very mournful melody, in which time came upon the stage a woman clothed in a white garment, on hir head a piller, double faced, the formost face fair and smiling, the other behinde blacke and louring, muffled with a white laune about hir eyes, hir lap ful of jewelles, sitting in a charyot, hir legges naked, hir fete set upon a great round bal, and beyng drawen in by iiii noble personages : she led in a string on hir right hand, ii kings crowned, and in hir lefte hand ii poore slaves very meanly attyred. After she was drawen about the stage, she stayed a litle, changing the kings unto the left hande and the slaves unto the right hand ; taking the crownes from the kings heads she crowned therwith the ii slaves, and casting the vyle clothes of the slaves upon the kings, she despoyled the kings of their robes, and therwith apparelled the slaves. This done, she was drawen eftsones about the stage in this order, and then departed, leaving unto us a plaine type 3 ""• Q3> ^^'^ 0"* tir^e ortjer of t\)t hm tiuntbe gljetoe 355 or figure of unstable fortune, who dothe often- times raise to heigthe of dignitie the vile and unnoble, and in like manner throweth downe from the place of promotion even those whom 25 before she hir selfe had thither advaunced : after hir departure came in Duke Creon with foure gentlemen wayting upon him, and lamented the death of Meneceus his sonne in this maner. Atto Quinto. [SCENA I.] Creontey Coro. Creonte. Oime, che far debb' io ? Pianger me stesso, O la ruina della patria ? intorno Di cui veggo si folta e oscura nebbia, Ch' io non so se maggior copra 1' inferno ? Pur ora il mio figliuol m' ho visto innanzi Del proprio sangue orribile e vermiglio, Ch' egli, alia patria troppo caro amico, E al padre suo fiero nimico, ha sparso, A se acquistando un onorato nome, E gloria eterna ; a me perpetuo duolo. La cui morte infelice, or tutta afflitta, Piange la casa mia, tal ch' io non veggo Cosa che piu V acqueti, o la consoli. Et io venuto son, perche Giocasta, Mia sorella, benche dolente e mesta. Per tante sue non comparabil pene, Faccia a quel corpo misero il lavacro, E procuri per lui che piti non vive Quanto si deve : perche a' morti corpi Actus [v.] Scena i. Creon, Chorus. \_Creon.'\ Alas! what shall I do ? bemone my selfe ? Or rue the ruine of my native lande, About the which such cloudes I see enclosde, As darker cannot cover dreadful hell. With mine own eyes I saw my own deare Sonne 5 All gorde with bloud of his too bloudy brest, Which he hath shed full like a friend, too deare To his countrey, and yet a cruell foe To me, that was his friend and father both. Thus to him selfe he gaynde a famous name lo And glory great, to me redoubled payne : Whose haplesse death in my afflicted house Hath put suche playnt, as I ne can espie What comfort might acquiet their distresse. I hither come my sister for to seeke, 15 Jocasta, she that might in wofull wise, Amid hir high and overpining cares. Prepare the baynes for his so wretched corps, And eke for him that nowe is not in life May pay the due that to the dead pertaynes ; 20 ^ctus v. So in MS. and Qi : misprinted iii in Q2 and Q3. 358 ^tocasfta [Acrv. Convien, per render lor debito onore, ao Far sacrificio air infernal Plutone. Coro, Signer, e assai che la sorella vostra E uscita del palazzo, e con la madre Antigone fanciulla. Cre. E dove sono Andate ? Coro. Al campo. Cre. La cagion dl questo ? 25 Coro. Ha inteso che i figliuol dovevan oggi Combatter per cagion di questo regno. Cre. L' esequie del figliuol m' hanno condotto A non considerar tal cosa, e meno A cercar di saperla. Coro. Ella n' e andata; 30 E penso che fin or sara fornito L' empio duel che ne spaventa il core. Cre. Ecco di quello che per voi si teme Indicio chiaro : e lo dimostra il volto Turbato, e tristo di costui che viene. 35 [ScENA 2.] Nuncio, Creonte, Coro. Nuncio. Misero me, che dir debb* io ? quai voci, Quai parole formar? sczszu.] 31ocafifta 359 And for the honor he did well deserve, To give some giftes unto infernall gods. Chorus. My lorde, your sister is gone forth long since Into the campe, and with hir Antigone, Hir daughter deare. 25 Cre. Into the campe ? alas ! and what to do ? Cho. She understoode, that for this realme foorthwith Her sonnes were greed in combate for to joyne. Cre. Alas, the funerals of my deare sonne Dismayed me so, that I ne did receive 30 Ne seeke to knowe these newe unwelcome newes. But loe, beholde a playne apparant signe Of further feares ! the furious troubled lookes Of him that commeth heere so hastilye. ScENA 2. Nunciusy CreoUy Chorus. \_Nuncius.'^ Alas, alas! what shall I doe? alas! What shriching voyce may serve my wofull wordes ? O wretched I, ten thousande times a wretch, The messanger of dread and cruell death ! 23 My lordj your sister is. MS., Your sister is, my lord. 24 tuith hir Antigone. MS., Antigone with her. 360 ^iocasfta [actv. Creonte. Principio tristo. Nun. Misero me, misero me piu volte, Nuncio di crudelta, nuncio di morte. Ore. Appresso 1' altro mal che male apporti ? Nun. I vostri due nepoti, Signor mio, Non son piu vivi. Ore. Oime, grave ruina A me infelice, e alia Citta racconti. Real casa d' Edipo, intendi questo ? I tuoi cari Signori, i due fratelli, Oggi son spenti, oggi son giti a morte. Coro. Nuova crudele, oime : Crudelissima nuova ; Nuova da far che queste istesse mura Per pieta si spezzasser lagrimando ; E lo farian, s' avesser senso umano. Cre. Oime, giovani indegn[i] Di tal calamita : ma ben del tutto Misero me. Nun. Piu vi parra, Signore, D' esser misero, quando intenderete Maggior miseria. Cre. E come, come puote Esser di cio miseria altra piii grave ? Nun. Con i figliuoli la Reina e morta. 17 indegni. O, D, indegne. Scene n.] 3IOCa0ta 36 1 Creon. Yet more mishap ? and what unhappie newes ? 5 Nun. My lord, your nephues both have lost their lives. Cre. Out and alas ! to me and to this towne Thou doest accompt great ruine and decay. You royall familie of Oedipus, And heare you this ? your liege and soveraigne lordes, 1° The brethren both, are slayne and done to death. Chorus. O cruell newes, most cruell that can come, O newes that might these stony walles provoke For tender ruthe to brust in bitter teares. And so they would, had they the sense of man. 15 Cre. O worthy yong lordes, that un- Cesers worthy were tears. Of such unworthy death ! O me moste wretch ! Nun. More wretched shall ye deeme your selfe, my lord. When you shall heare of further miserie. Cre. And can there be more miserie than this ? 20 Nun. With hir deare sonnes the Queene hir self is slaine. Cho. Bewayle, ladies, alas, good ladies, waile 14 brust. MS. and Qi, burst. 362 ^iocasfta [act v. Coro. Piangete, Donne, oime, Oime, Donne, piangete : 25 Piangete il vostro male Senza speranza di gioir piu mai. Cre. O misera Giocasta ! Oime, che fine acerbo Delia tua vita hai sostenuto ? Forse 30 Hallo permesso il Cielo, Mosso dair empie nozze Del tuo figliuol Edipo ? Ben ti dovea iscusare Non saper di peccare. 35 Ma dimmi, Nuncio, dimmi La scellerata morte Dei due crudi germani, A cio sforzati e spinti, Non pur dal suo destine, 40 M' ancor dalle biasteme Del crudo padre loro, Nato per nostro danno ; D' ogni scelerita nel mondo esempio. Nun. Signor, saper dovete come il fine 45 Delia guerra che fu sotto le mura Era successo assai felicemente ; Ch' Eteocle cacciato avea gli Argivi Con gran vergogna lor dentro i ripari. Avvenne poi che si sfidaro insieme 50 Polinice a battaglia et Eteocle, Scene II] JlOCafiftH 363 This harde mischaunce, this cruell common evill, Ne hencefoorth hope for ever to rejoyce. Cre. O Jocasta, miserable mother, 25 What haplesse ende thy life, alas ! hath hent ? Percase the heavens purveyed had the same, Moved therto by the wicked wedlocke Of Oedipus thy sonne. Yet might thy scuse Be justly made, that knewe not of the crime. 30 But tell me, messanger, oh, tell me w h k y^t somtimes The death of these two brethren, wiUingly to driven therto wofuU news. Not thus all onely by their drearie fate. But by the banning and the bitter cursse Of their cruell sire, borne for our annoy, 35 And here on earth the onely soursse of evill. Nun. Then know, my lorde, the battell that begonne Under the walles was brought to luckie ende. Eteocles had made his [foemen] flee Within their trenches, to their foule reproche : 40 But herewithall the brethren both straightway Eche other chalenge[d] foorth into the fielde, By combate so to stinte their cruell strife ; 35 sire. In the MS. a later hand has crossed out sire and sub- stituted yaM^r. 39 foemen. So in the MS. and Ql. Q2, fotemen. 41 brethren both. Ql, bretheren. 42 ckalenged. MS., challendge. Qq, chalenge. 364 ^iocasfca [act v. Ponendo sopra lor tutta la guerra. I quai, poiche comparsero nel campo Insieme armati, Polinice prima, Volgendo gli occhi in verso d' Argo, mosse Questi air alma Giunon divoti preghi. Santa Reina, tu ben vedi come Son tuo, dappoi che in matrimonio tolsi La iigliuola d' Adrasto, e fo dimora Nella Greca Citta : s' io ne son degno, Concedemi ch' i' uccida il mio fratello, Concedemi ch' io tinga nel suo sangue La vincitrice man. So ch' io dimando Certo brutto trionfo e indegne spoglie ; Ma cagion me ne da questo crudele. Pianse la turba, alle parole interna Di Polinice, prevedendo il fine Di quel duello : e 1' uno e V altro in viso Si riguardava stupido e tremante. Per la pieta ch* ai giovanetti avea. Quando Eteocle, riguardando il Cielo, Disse : concedi a me, Figlia di Giove, Che questa acuta lancia entri nel petto Scene H.] 3|OCa0ta 365 Who armed thus amid the fielde appeard. First Polynice, turning toward Greece 45 His lovely lookes, gan Juno thus beseeche : " O heavenly queene, thou seest that since the day I first did wedde Adrastus daughter deare, And stayde in Greece, thy servaunt have I bene : Then (be it not for thine unworthinesse) 50 Graunt me this grace, the victorie to winne, Graunt me, that I with high triumphant hande May bathe this blade within my brothers brest : I know I crave unworthy victorie, Unworthy triumphes and unworthy spoyles ; 55 Lo he the cause, my cruell enimie." The people wept to heare the wofull wordes Of Polynice, foreseeing eke the ende Of this outrage and cruell combat tane ; Eche man gan looke upon his drouping mate 60 With mindes amazed, and trembling hearts for dread. Whom pitie perced for these youthfuU knightes. Eteocles, with eyes up cast to heaven. Thus sayde : ' O mightie Jove his daughter graunt to me, 65 That this right hande with this sharpe armed launce 51 this. MS., the. 366 ^tocaflfta [actv. Di mio fratello, e gli trapassi il core, Tal ch' uccida colui ch' indegnamente Turba la patria ed il riposo nostro Cosi disse Eteocle : e udendo il segno Delia lor pugna, 1' uno e 1' altro mosse. Come Serpi, o Leon di rabbia ardenti. Ambi a' visi drizzar le aguzze punte : Ma volse il Ciel che non ebbero efFetto. Gli scudi si passar, e 1' aste loro Si rupper ambe, e in mille scheggie andaro. Ecco, ambi con le spade ignude in mano Corrono irati T un deir altro addosso. Di qua i Tebani, e di la dubbi stanno Gli Argivi ; e questi e quel sentono al core Maggior paura per la vita d' ambi, Che non sentono i due nelP arme affanno. Ai torvi aspetti, ai gravi colpi fieri Dimostravano ben che nel suo petto Fosse quant' odio mai, disdegno, ed ira Scene n.] ^lOCHfifta 3^7 (Passing amid my brothers cankred brest,) It may eke pierce that cowarde hart of his, And so him slea that thus unworthily Disturbes the quiet of our common weale." 70 So sayde Eteocles, and trumpets blowne, To sende the summons of their bloudy fighte, That one the other fiercely did encounter. Like lions two, yfraught with boyling wrath, Bothe coucht their launces full agaynst the face. 75 But heaven it * nolde that there they „, , , , , , , . ^ Would not. should them temte : Upon the battred shields the mightie speares Are bothe ybroke, and in a thousande shivers Amid the ayre flowne up into the heavens : Beholde agayne, with naked sworde in hande 80 Eche one the other furiously assaultes. Here they of Thebes, there stoode the Greekes in doubt, Of whom doth eche man feele more chilling dread, Least any of the twayne should lose his life Than any of the twayne did feele in fight. 85 Their angry lookes, their deadly daunting blowes Might witnesse well that in their heartes re- maynde As cankred hate, disdayne and furious moode, 72 lende. Q3, sounde. 79 fioiune. MS., flewe. 80 sworde. Q3, swords. 84 Leau. Q3, Lest. 368 ^iiocas^ta [act v. Esser possa in due cor di Tigre, e d' Orso. Polinice fu il primo ch' a Eteocle Feri la destra coscia ; ma la piaga Giudicata non fu molto profonda. Gridaro allor pien di letizia i Greci : Ma tacquer tosto ; ch' Eteocle immerse La punta della spada a Polinice Nel manco braccio disarmato, e nudo D' ogni riparo, e fuor ne trasse il sangue, Che stillante n* usci, fervente, e caldo. Ne si fermo, che V umbilico ancora D' un' altra punta al suo fratello aperse; Onde '1 meschino abbandonando il freno, Pallido cadde del cavallo in terra : Non tarda il nostro Duca ; ma discende Anch' ei del proprio, e all' infelice accorre Per torre a quel le guadagnate spoglie : Et era tanto a dispogliarlo intento ; Siccome quel che si credea d' avere Gia la vittoria del fratello ucciso ; Che non s' accorse che egli, ch' avea tratto In mano il suo pugnale, e '1 tenea stretto Con quel vigor che gli restava ancora, Gli trapasso in un colpo il petto e '1 core; 93 di Tigre, e d' Orso. O, di Tygre e di Orsa. Scene D.] JiOtU^td, 369 As ever bred in beare or tygers brest. The first that hapt to hurt was Polinice, 90 Who smote the righte thighe of Eteocles : But as we deeme, the blow was nothing deepe. Then cryed the Greekes, and lepte with lightned harts But streight agayne they helde their peace, for why ? Eteocles gan thrust his wicked sworde 95 In the lefte arme of unarmed Pollinice, And let the bloud from bare unfenced fleshe With falling drops distill upon the ground. Ne long he stayes, but with an other thrust His brothers belly boweld with his blade. 100 Then wretched he, with bridle left at large, From of his horsse fell pale upon the ground ; Ne long it was, but downe our duke dismountes From of his startling steede, and runnes in hast, His brothers haplesse helme for to unlace, 105 And with such hungry minde desired spoyle, (As one that thought the fielde already woonne) That at unwares, his brothers dagger drawne And griped fast within the dying hand. Under his side he recklesse doth receive, no That made the way to his wyde open hart. 92 nothing. MS., not too. 94 ivAy. MS. and Qi, he. (?) omitted. 97 hare. MS. and Qi, thinne. 106 desired. MS., gan mynde the. 370 ^iocasfta [actv. Cadde Eteocle allor sopra il fratello, E r uno e 1' altro sanguinoso diede Agli Argivi, e ai Teban spettacol fiero. Coro. Ah de' nostri Signor misero fine ! 120 Cre. Edipo, Edipo, i' piango i tuoi figliuoli, Perche son miei nipoti: ma dovrebbe Di questa morte in te cader la pena; Perche tu sol con le preghiere usate Nel danno loro gli hai condotti a morte. 125 Ma segui quanto a raccontar ti resta. Nun. Tosto che i due fratei cadder trafitti Miseramente dalle proprie mani, Versando V un sopra dell' altro il sangue ; Ecco venir V afflitta madre insieme 130 Con la vergine Antigone: la quale Non si tosto gli vide in quello stato, Che d* un misero oime percosse il Cielo. Scene n.] 3(!0CaSfta 371 Thus falles Eteocles his brother by, From both whose breasts the bloud fast bubling gave A sory shewe to Greekes and Thebanes both. Cho. Oh wretched ende of our unhappie lordes ! 115 Cre. Oh Oedipus ! I must bewaile the death Of thy deare sonnes, that were my nephewes both; But of these blowes thou oughtest feele the smarte, That with thy wonted prayers thus hast brought Such noble blouds to this unnoble end. 120 But now tell on ; what followed of the Queene ? Nun. When thus with pierced harts, by their owne hands The brothers fell and wallowed in their bloud, (That one still tumbling on the others gore) Came their afflicted mother, then to late, 125 And eke with hir, chast childe Antygone, Who saw no sooner how their fates had falne, But with the doubled echo of Alas ! She dymmde the ayre with loude complaints and cryes : 123 and. Qi, had. 124 That one still. MS. and Ql, Th one. 126 hir. MS. and Qi, her, her. 129 She dymmde. MS. and Qi, sore dymmed. 372 ^iocasfta [act v. Ah, diceva, figliuoli, ah, troppo tardo Ora e 1' aiuto mio, tardo soccorso 13S V apporto: e col gridar fu giunta appresso I due cari figliuoli, ove piangendo Formo lamenti da fermar il Sole. La pietosa sorella, anch' ella insieme Con la madre rigando ambe le guancie 140 Di largo pianto, dal profondo petto Trasse queste amarissime parole: Cari fratelli miei, la madre nostra Abbadonate allor che questa sua Gia stanca eta, si debole e canuta, 14s Piii di bisogno avea del vostro aiuto: Cari fratelli miei, voi ci lasciate Ambe senza conforto, e senza pace. Al suon di tai lamenti il Signor nostro Mando con gran fatica fuor del petto 150 Un debole sospiro, e alzo la mano. Quasi mostrando di voler alquanto Racconsolar la madre, e la sorella : Ma in vece di parole fuor per gli occhi Gli uscir alcune lagrime, e dipoi 155 Scene n.] 31OCa0ta 373 Oh sonnes (quod she), too late came all my helpe, 130 And all to late have I my succour sent : And v/ith these wordes upon their carcas colde She shriched so, as might have stayed the sunne To mourne with hir : the wofull sister eke (That both hir chekes did bathe in flowing teares) 135 Out from the depth of hir tormented brest With scalding sighes gan draw these weary words ; O my deare brethren, why abandon ye Our mother deare, when these hir aged yeares (That of themselves are weake and growne with griefe,) 140 Stoode most in neede of your sustaining helpe ? Why doe you leave hir thus disconsolate ? At sounde of such hir weeping long lament, Eteocles our king helde up his hand. And sent from bottome of his wofull brest 145 A doubled sighe, devided with his griefe, In faithfull token of his feeble will To recomfort his mother and sister both : And in [the] steade of sweete contenting words The trickling teares raynde downe his paled chekes : 150 133 shrieked. MS., shriked. 142 you. MS., ye. 149 the. Only in MS. and Qi. 374 ^ioca0ta [act v. Chiuse le mani, e abbandono la luce. Ma rivolgendo Polinice gli occhi Alia sorella, ed alia vecchia madre, Disse con bassi ed imperfetti accent!: Madre, come vedete, io giungo al fine i6o Deir infelice mio breve cammino : Ne mi rest' altro, fuor che di dolermi Per voi, ch' io lascio, e per la mia sorella In continue miserie, e parimente Dolgomi della morte d' Eteocle; 165 Che, sebben il crudel mi fu nimico. Era di voi figliuolo, e a me fratello. Or, mentre ambi n* andremo ai Regni Stigi, Pregovi, o madre, e tu cara sorella, Che procurar vogliate che '1 mio corpo 170 Abbia nella mia patria sepoltura. Or mi chiudete con le vostre mani, Madre, quest' occhi, e rimanete in pace; Che gia circondan le mie luci intorno Le tenebre perpetue della morte. 175 Cosi disse, et insieme mando fuori L' alma ch' era gia in via per dipartirsi. Ma la madre, vedendo ambi i figliuoli 177 gia in via. O, in gia via. Scene II.] 31OCa0ta 375 Then claspt his hands, and shut his dying eyes. But Polynice, that turned his rolling eyen Unto his mother and his sister deare, With hollow voyce and fumbling toung thus spake : " Mother, you see how I am now arryved 155 Unto the [haven] of mine unhappie ende : Now nothing doth remaine to me but this, That I lament my sisters life and yours. Left thus in everlasting woe and griefe : So am I sory for Eteocles, 160 Who, though he were my cruell enimie. He was your sonne, and brother yet to me : But since these ghostes of ours must needes go downe With staggring steppes into the Stigian reigne, I you besech, mother and sister bothe, 165 Of pitie yet, that you will me procure A royall tombe within my native realme : And now shut up with those your tender handes These griefFull eyes of mine, whose dazeled light Shadowes of dreadfull death be come to close. 170 Now rest in peace." This sayde, he yeelded up His fainting ghost, that ready was to part. The mother, thus beholding both hir sonnes 156 ha'ven. So in MS., Qi, QS- Q2, heaven. 376 6ioca0ta [actv. Morti, vinta dal duol, colse il pugnale Di Polinice, e si passo la gola, i8o E cadde in mezzo ai suoi figliuoli morta, Con le deboli man quelli abbracciando; Siccome seco in compagnia volesse Passar mesta e scontenta all' altra riva. Poiche P empio destin condusse a morte 185 Con due cari figliuol la madre insieme, Allor tra' nostri, e tra' nemici nacque Grave contesa; che ciascun volea Che dal suo lato la vittoria fosse. Al fin si corse alP arme, e combattendo 19° Arditamente d* una e d' altra parte, Fuggir gli Argivi, e con fatica pochi Si salvar, che ne furo uccisi tanti, Ch' altro non si vedea, che sangue, e corpi. De' nostri altri restar di fuora intenti 195 A dipredar e a dispogliar gli uccisi; Altri partian tra lor le ricche prede : Altri, seguendo Antigone, levaro La Reina Giocasta, et i fratelli Sopra d' un carro, e qui gli portan ora. aoo Cosi da un canto la vittoria abbiamo; Scene II.] 3IOCa0ta 377 Ydone to death, and, overcome with dole, Drewe out the dagger of hir Pollinice 175 From brothers brest, and gorde therewyth her throte. Falling betweene hir sonnes : Then with hir feebled armes she doth [e] nfolde Their bodies both, as if for company Hir uncontented corps were yet content 180 To passe with them in Charons ferrie boate. When cruell fate had thus with force bereft The wofull mother and hir two deare sonnes, All sodenly, allarme ! allarme ! they crye. And bote conflict began for to aryse 185 Betwene our armie and our enemyes : For either part would have the victorye. A while they did with equall force maintaine The bloody fight ; at last the Greekes do flie, Of whom could hardly any one escape, 190 For in such hugie heapes our men them slew, The ground was coverde all with carcases; And of souldiers, some gan spoyle the dead. Some other were that parted out the pray. And some pursuing. Antigone toke up 195 The Queene Jocasta and the brethren both. Whom in a chariot hither they will bring 175 Pollinice. Qi, Pollinices. 176 tkereivyth her. MS., their mothers. 178 enfolde. So in MS. and Qi. Q2, Q3, unfolde. 378 ^iocasfta [act v. Dair altro piu che i vinti abbiam perduto, Poiche miseramente in questa guerra I tre nostri Signor perduto abbiamo. Coro. Dura infelicita ! Gia non udimmo 205 Noi de' nostri Signor 1' acerba morte ? Ma, quel ch' e piu crudel, veggiamo ancora I tre corpi defunti ; eccogli avanti. [ScENA 3.] Antigoney Coro. Antigone. Amarissimo pianto, Donne, Donne, conviene: Convien che ciascaduna, Non pur pianga e si dolga Ma squarci i crini, e si percuota il volte. 5 Ecco, fra due figliuoli Qui la Reina morta: Quella che amaste tanto, Quella ch' ad una ad una Voi tutte, come figlie, 10 Nudrir e amar solea : Or v' ha lasciate, ahi sorte. Con troppo cruda morte, Sconsolate, dolenti, e senza aita. Ahi, dolorosa vita, 15 Perche ancor resti in me? dunque ho potuto Veder morir colei Che mi die questa vita, Scene m.] ^lOCaS^ta 379 Ere long : and thus, although we gotten have The victory over our enemies, Yet have we lost much more than we have wonne. Creon exit. 200 Cho. O hard mishap, we doe not onelv heare The wearie newes of their untimely death, But eke we must with wayling eyes beholde Their bodies deade, for loke where they be brought. SCENA 3. Antigone^ Chorus. \_Antigone.'\ Most bitter plaint, O ladyes, us behoves : Behoveth eke not onely bitter plainte, But that our heares dyshevylde from our heades About our shoulders hang, and that our brests With bouncing blowes be all be-battered, 5 Our gastly faces with our nayles defaced. \The bodies are brought in in a chariot.'^ Behold, your Queene twixt both hir sonnes lyes slayne. The Queene whom you did love and honour both. The Queene that did so tenderly bring up And nourishe you, eche one like to hir owne, jq Now hath she left you all (O cruell hap ! ) 5 be-battered. MS., to-battered. 380 ^ioca^ta (act v. Et io rimaner viva? Oime, chi porgera si largo umore 20 A queste luci afflitte, Che basti a lagrimar quanto i' vorrei L' interno mio dolore? Coro. Ben crudo e chi non piange, O misera fanciulla. 25 Jnt. Madre, perduto io v* ho, perduto insieme Ho i miei cari fratelli. O Polinice mio, tu col tuo sangue Hai posto fine alia crudel contesa Ch' avevi con colui 30 Che gia ti tolse il Regno ; E finalmente t' ha la vita tolta. Che non puo 1' ira oime, che non puo 1' ira ? Lassa, che far debb' io ? Gia voi vivendo, era mia speme viva 35 Di vedermi gioire Di fortunate nozze, E sentirmi chiamar donna, e Reina. Or col vostro morire £ la speranza morta ; 40 E non spero giammai, Se non tormenti e guai, Se pur questa mia man fia tanto vile, Che non sappia finire Questa misera vita. 45 Coro, Deh, non voler, fanciulla Scene III] 31OCa0ta 38 1 With hir too cruell death in dying dreade, Pyning with pensifenesse without all helpe. O weary life, why bydste thou in my breast, And I contented be that these mine eyes 15 Should see hir dye that gave to me this life, And I not venge hir death by losse of life? Who can me give a fountaine made of mone. That I may weepe as muche as is my will, To sowsse this sorow up in swelling teares ? 20 Chorus. What stony hart could leave for to lament ? Jnt. O Polinice, now hast thou with thy bloud Bought all too deare the title to this realme. That cruell he Eteocles thee refte, And now also hath refte thee of thy life. 25 Alas ! what wicked dede can wrath not doe ? And out, alas, for mee! Whyle thou yet livedst, I had a lively hope To have some noble wight to be my pheere, By whome I might be crownde a royall queene : 30 But now thy hastie death hath done to dye This dying hope of mine, that hope hencefoorth None other wedlocke but tormenting woe. If so these trembling hands for cowarde dread Dare not presume to ende this wretched life. 35 Cho. Alas, deare dame, let not thy raging griefe Heape one mishap upon anothers head ! 28 li-vedst. MS., lived. 382 ^ioca^ca [act v. Infelice e dolente, Accrescer danno a danno. Ant. Infelice quel giorno Che nacque il padre mio ; 5° Piu infelice quell' ora Che coronato fu Re di Tebani. Allor empio Imeneo Congiunse oime, con scellerate nozze In un medesmo letto 55 II figliuol e la madre; Onde noi siamo nati A patir il flagello Delli costor peccati. O padre, che sei privo 60 E di luce e di gioia, Ascolta, ascolta quello Che tu non puoi vedere; In questa parte assai Fortunate e felice : 65 Che se veder potessi L' uno e r altro figliuolo ; E nel 'mezzo di loro La tua consorte, e madre Tutti tinti e bagnati 70 In un medesmo sangue, Morresti allor ; e cosi fora estinta Tutta la nostra casa : Ma pill tosto infelice; Scene ni] 31OCa0ta 383 Ant. O dolefull day, wherein my sory sire Was borne, and yet O more unhappie houre When he was crowned king of stately Thebes ! 40 The Hymenei in unhappie bed And wicked wedlocke wittingly did joyne The giltlesse mother with hir giltie sonne. Out of which roote we be the braunches borne, To beare the scourge of their so foule offence. 45 And thou, O father, thou that for this facte Haste torne thine eyes from thy tormented head, Give eare to this, come foorth, and bende thine eare To bloudie newes, that canst not them beholde : Happie in that, for if thine eyes could see 50 Thy sonnes bothe slayne, and even betweene them bothe Thy wife and mother dead, bathed and imbrude All in one bloud, then wouldst thou dye for dole, And so might ende all our unluckie stocke. But most unhappie nowe, that lacke of sighte 55 Shall linger life within thy lucklesse brest. And still tormented in suche miserie, Shall alwayes dye, bicause thou canst not dye. Oedipus entreth. 50 that. MS. and Qi, this. Oedipus entreth. MS., Oedipus intrat. 384 6iocasfta Iactv. Che il non veder questo spettacol duro 75 Cagion sara che serberai la vita A perpetui tormenti : E tra pena e martire Ogn' or morrai, per non poter morire. [ScENA 4.] EdipOy Antigoney Coro, Edtpo. Perche, figliuola mia, Uscir fai questo cieco Dal suo cieco ed oscuro Albergo di miserie e di lamenti A quella luce chiara 5 Che di veder fui indegno ? E chi potra veder senza tormento (Ahi, fato acerbo e forte) Questa, non d' uom, ma immagine di morte ? Antigone. Padre, infelice nuova 10 A vostre orecchie apporto : I due vostri figliuoli Piu non veggono luce : Ne la vostra consorte, Che si pietosamente 15 Era guida e sostegno De' vostri ciechi passi, Vede piij il lume, oime, di questa vita. Edip. O miseria infinita, II Scene IV.] 3IOCa0ta 3^5 SCENA 4. Oedipusy Antigoney Chorus, \OedipusP^ Why dost thou call out of this darkesome denne, The lustlesse lodge of my lamenting yeres, (O daughter deare) thy fathers blinded eyes Into the light I was not worthy of? Or what suche sight (O cruell destenie) Without tormenting cares might I beholde, That image am of deathe and not of man ? Antigone. O father mine, I bring unluckie newes Unto your eares : your sonnes are nowe both slayne ; Ne doth your wife (that wonted was to guyde So piteously your staylesse stumbling steppes) Now see this light, alas and welaway ! Oed. O heape of infinite calamities. And canst thou yet encrease when I thought least That any griefe more great could grow in thee ? But tell me yet, what kinde of cruell death Had these three sory soules ? Ant. Without offence to speake, deare father mine. The lucklesse lotte, the frowarde frowning fate 386 ^ioca^ta [act v. Tu pur accresci, quando ao lo pensava che nuovo alto dolore Giunger non si potesse Alle gravose mie perpetue pene. Ma con qual morte, ahi lasso, Tre anime meschine 25 Sono uscite di vita ? Ant, lo lo diro, non per riprender voi, Caro e dolce mio padre. Quella cattiva sorte Che voi fe' nascer, perche deste poi 3° Al vostro padre morte, £ pervenuta ancor con pene e duoli Nei miseri figliuoli. Edip, Oime, oime. Ant, E che piangete voi ? Ed'ip. I miei figliuoli io piango. 35 Ant. Pill piangereste, o padre, Se gli vedeste innanzi Pallidi e sanguinosi. Edip. Gia conosco qual sia stata la morte Degli infelici : or segui 40 Quella della mia cara, Diro madre, o consorte ? Ant. La madre mia, dappoi Che vide morti i suoi Due cari pegni, 45 Siccome il duol le avea trafitto il core ; i Scene IV.] 3lOCa0ta 3^7 That gave you life to ende your fathers life, 20 Have ledde your sonnes to reave eche others life. Oed. Of them I thought no lesse, but tell me yet What causelesse death hath caught from me my deare — What shall I call hir? — mother or my wife ? Jnt. Whenas my mother sawe hir deare sonnes deade, 25 As pensive pangs had prest hir tender heart, With bloudlesse cheekes and gastlv lookes she fell ; Drawing the dagger from Eteocles side, She gorde hirselfe with wide recurelesse wounde : And thus, without mo words, gave up the ghost, 30 Embracing both hir sonnes with both hir armes. In these afFrightes this frosen heart of mine By feare of death maynteines my dying life. Chorus. This drearie day is cause of many evils, Poore Oedipus, unto thy progenie ; - The gods yet graunt it may become the cause Of better happe to this afflicted realme. ^Creon entreth."^ Creon entreth. No stage-direction in Qq. MS., Creon intrat. 388 ^ioca0ta Iactv. Cosi pallida, esangue, Col pugnal che passato Aveva il manco lato Del misero Eteocle, 50 Si trapasso la gola E cadde, oime, senza pur dir parola, L' uno e r altro figliuolo Con le mani abbracciando : Ed io fui tanto cruda, 55 Che son rimasa viva. Coro. Questo giorno infelice Alia casa d' Edipo E giorno, oime, cagion di molti mali. Voglia Dio ch' egli sia 60 Alia sua gente afflitta Cagion di miglior vita. [ScENA 5.] Creontey EdipOy Antigone. Creonte. Donne, lasciate omai querele e pianti, Che tempo e gia di seppellir il corpo Del vostro Re con onorate esequie. Tu, Edipo, ascolta quel che dir ti voglio. Sappi che per la dote di tua figlia 5 g Antigone ad Emone il tuo figliuolo Eteocle lascio, quand' ei morisse, Ch* a me, come a fratello di sua madre. Scene v.] 31OCa0ta 3^9 SCENA 5. Creon, Oedipus, Antigone. \_Creon.'^ Good Ladies, leave your bootelesse vayne complaynt, Leave to lament, cut off your wofull cryes; High time it is as now for to provide The funerals for the renowmed king : And thou, Oedipus, hearken to my wordes. And know thus muche, that for thy daughters dower Antigone with Hemone shall be wedde. Thy Sonne our king not long before his death Assigned hath the kingdome should descende To me, that am his mothers brother borne. And so the same might to my sonne succeede. Now I, that am the lorde and king of Thebes, Will not permit that thou abide therein : Ne marvell yet of this my heady will, Ne blame thou me : for why ? the heavens above, Which onely rule the rolling life of man. Have so ordeynde ; and that my words be true, Tyresias, he that knoweth things to come. By trustie tokens hath foretolde the towne, 7 shall be. MS., shall altered in a later hand to to be. Ql, shall. 390 ^ioca^ta [act v. Pervenisse il dominio de' Tebani, E poscia il mio figliuol ne fosse erede : lo Ond' io, come Signor e Re di Tebe, Non vo' conceder che piu alberghi in lei Ne ti maravigliar del voler mio ; Ne ti doler di me, perocche '1 Cielo, Che volger suol tutte le cose umane, ,^ Cosi dispone : e ch' io ti parli il vero, Tiresia, ch' e indovin di quanto avviene, Predetto ha chiaramente alia Cittade Che, mentre in Tebe tu farai dimora. Da novo mal fia molestata sempre : 20 Pero ti parti : e non pensar ch' io dica Tai parole per odio ch' io ti porti, O perche i' sia, che non ti son, nimico ; Ma sol per ben di questa terra afflitta. Edipo. O crudel mio destin, ben fatto m' hai ^5 Nascer alle miserie e alle fatiche Di questa morte che si chiama vita, Pill ch' uom mortal che mai nascesse in terra. Non era ancora nato, che mio padre Intese, oime, ch' io lo torrei di vita : 30 Onde appena, meschino, apersi gli occhi, Ch' ei mi fece gettar cibo alle fere. Ma che ? Pervenni a Real stato : e dope L' uccisi pur, non lo sapendo : e giacqui Scellerato marito con mia madre, 35 Di cui, lasso, n' ebb' io iigliuoli, e figlie. Scene v.] ^OtU&ta 391 That while thou didst within the walles remayne, 20 It should be plagued still with penurie : Wherfore departe, and thinke not that I speake These wofull wordes for hate I beare to thee, But for the weale of this afflicted realme. Oedipus. O foule accursed fate, that hast me bredde 25 To beare the burthen of the miserie Of this colde deathe, which we accompt for life! Before my birth my father understoode I should him slea, and scarcely was I borne. When he me made a pray for savage beastes. 30 But what ? I slew him yet, then caught the crowne. And last of all defilde my mothers bedde, By whom I have this wicked offspring got : And to this heinous crime and filthy facte The heavens have from highe enforced me, 35 Agaynst whose doome no counsell can prevayle. Thus hate I now my life ; and last of all, Lo ! by the newes of this so cruell death Of bothe my sonnes and deare beloved wife, Mine angrie constellation me commaundes 40 Withouten eyes to wander in mine age, When these my weery, weake, and crooked limmes 26 of. Altered in MS. to and. 392 ^iocasfta [actv. E a tal peccato scellerato ed empio Sforzommi il Ciel; contra di cui non giova Consiglio umano, e m' ha condotto a tale, Ch' io porto odio a me stesso. Or finalmente, 40 Dopo r aver inteso ambe le morti De' miei figliuoli, e della moglie, vuole La mia Stella nimica che, senz' occhi, E in estrema vecchiezza, errando io vada, Quando le membra mie deboli e stanche 45 Han del riposo lor maggior bisogno. O Creonte crudel, perche m' uccidi ? Che m' uccidi, crudel, cacciando fuori Me della mia Citta. Ma non per questo Avverra ch' io ti preghi, e ch' io m' inchini 50 Nanzi a' tuoi piedi. Tolgami fortuna Cio ch' ella puote ; non sara giammai Ch' ella mi possa tor 1' animo invitto Ch' ebbi in tutti i miei di, tal ch' io discenda Per timidezza ad alcun atto vile : 55 Fa quel che puoi ; io saro sempre Edipo. Cre, Ben parli, Edipo, e ti consiglio anch' io A serbar 1' alterezza che fu sempre Natural del tuo cuore : e ti fo certo Che, se baciasti ben queste ginocchia, 60 Et adoprasti ogni preghiera meco ; Non per questo concederti vorrei Ch' un' ora sola rimanessi in Tebe. Or fate voi, Teban, debite esequie Scene V] 3|OCa0ta 393 Have greatest neede to crave their quiet rest. O cruell Creon, wilt thou slea me so, For cruelly thou doste but murther me, 45 Out of my kingdome now to chase me thus : Yet can I not with humble minde beseeche Thy curtesie, ne fall before thy feete. Let fortune take from me these worldly giftes, She can not conquere this courageous heart, 50 That never yet could well be overcome. To force me yeelde for feare to villanie : Do what thou canst : I will be Oedipus. Cre. So hast thou reason, Oedipus, to say, And for my parte I would thee counsell eke 55 Still to maynteine the highe and hawtie minde, That hath bene ever in thy noble heart : For this be sure : if thou wouldst kisse these knees. And practise eke by prayer to prevayle. No pitie coulde persuade me to consent 60 That thou remayne one onely houre in Thebes. And nowe prepare, you worthie citizens, The funeralls that duely doe pertayne Unto the Queene and to Eteocles, And eke for them provide their stately tombes. 65 But Pollynice, as common enimie Unto his countrey, carrie foorth his corps Out of the walles, ne none so hardie be 57 e'ver. Qi, even. 394 €>iocafi?ta [actv. Alia Reina, ad Eteocle ; e a quelli 65 Preparate oggimai la sepoltura. Ma Polinice, siccome nimico Delia patria, portate fuor di Tebe : Ne alcuno sia che seppellirlo ardisca; Che per pena n' avra tosto la morte. 70 Ma fuor della Citta resti insepolto, Senza onor, senza pianto, esca agli uccelli. Tu, lasciando le lagrime, va dentro, Antigone ; e disponti all' allegrezza Delle tue nozze : perocche domani 75 Sarai consorte al mio figlluolo Emone. Antigone. Padre, noi siamo in gran miserie involti. E veramente assai piu piango voi, Ch' io non fo questi morti : non che 1' uno Mai sia forse leggiero, e 1' altro grave ; 80 Ma perche voi, voi sol tutte avanzate Le miserie del mondo ad una ad una. Ma voi, novo Signor, per qual cagione Sbandite il padre mio del proprio seggio ? Perche volete ancor che questo afflitto 85 Corpo deir innocente mio fratello Resti privo, meschin, di sepoltura ? Cre. Tal legge non e mia, ma d' Eteocle. Jnt. Ei fu crudel, e voi a obbedirlo sciocco. Cre. Obbedir a chi regge e cosa indegna ? 90 Ant. Indegna, quando il suo comando e in- giusto. Scene V.] 3IOCa0ta 395 On peine of death his bodie to engrave, But in the fieldes let him unburied lye, 70 Without his honour and without complaynte. An open praie for savage beastes to spoyle. And thou, Antigone, drie up thy teares, Plucke up thy sprites, and cheere thy harmelesse hearte To manage : for ere these two dayes passe, 75 Thou shalt espouse Hemone, myne onely heire. Antigone. Father, I see us wrapt in endlesse woe. And nowe muche more doe I your state la- mente Than these that nowe be dead, not that I thinke Theyr greate missehappes too little to bewayle, 80 But this, that you (you onely) doe surpasse All wretched wightes that in this worlde re- mayne. But you, my lorde, why banishe you with wrong My father thus out of his owne perforce ? And why will you denye these guiltlesse bones 85 Of Polinice theyr grave in countrey soile ? Cre. So would not I, so would Eteocles. Jnt. He cruel was, you fonde to hold his hestes. Cre. Is then a fault to doe a kings com- maund ? Ant. When his commaunde is cruell and un- just. 90 396 ^iotusitn [actv. Cre. Inglusto e che costui pasca le fere ? j^nt. A lui non si convien pena si grave. Cre. Delia patria non fu questi nimico ? Jnt. Nemico fu chi 1' avea spinto fuori. 95 Cre. Non prese contra la sua patria 1' arme ? Jnt. Non pecca chi acquistar procaccia il suo. Cre. Egli mal grado tuo stara insepolto. Jnt. lo lo seppelliro con queste mani. Cre. Presso di lui seppellirai te ancora. loo Jnt. Lode fia due fratei sepolti insieme. Cre. Costei prendete, e portatela dentro. j^nt. Non pensate ch' io lasci questo corpo. Cre. Impedir non potrai quel ch' e ordinato. j^nt. Iniqua legge e il far ingiuria ai morti. 105 Cre. Terra nol coprira, ne dee coprirlo. Scene V.] 31OCa0ta 397 Cre. Is it unjust that he unburied be ? Jnt. He not deserv'd so cruel punishment. Cre. He was his countreys cruell enimie. Jnt. Or else was he that helde him from his right. Cre. Bare he not armes against his native land ? 95 Jnt. OfFendeth he that sekes to winne his owne ? Cre. In spite of thee he shall unburied be. Jnt. In spite of thee these hands shall burie him. Cre. And with him eke then will I burie thee. Jnt. So graunt the gods I get none other grave loo Then with my Polinices deare to rest. Cre. Go, sirs, lay holde on hir, and take her in. Jnt. I will not leave this corps unburied. \_Pointing to the body of Polynices.'\ Cre. Canst thou undoe the thing that is de- creed ? Jnt. A wicked foule decree to wrong the dead ! 105 Cre. The ground ne shall ne ought to cover him. 97, 98 In spite of. MS. and Qi, Perforce to. 398 ^ioca^ta [actv. Ant. lo vi prego, Creonte, per V amore ... Cre, Non gioveranno a te lusinghe e preghi. Ant. Che portaste a Giocasta, mentre visse, Cre. Sono le tue parole al vento sparse. no Ant. Mi concediate ch' io lo lavi almeno. Cre. Questo giusto non e ch' io ti conceda. Ant, Carissimo fratel, 1' empio e crudele Non potra far con le sue ingiuste forze Ch' io non ti baci ; e questa cara faccia, 115 E queste piaghe col mio pianto lavi. Cre. Deh, semplice fanciulla, e veramente Sciocca, non apportar con questi pianti Tristo e misero augurio alle tue nozze. Ant. Viva non saro mai moglie di Emone. 120 Cre. Ricusi di esser moglie al mio figliuolo ? Ant. Non voglio esser di lui, ne d' altri moglie. Cre, Faro che ci sarai, vogli, o non vogli. Ant, Ti pentirai d' avermi usato forza. Ill concediate. O, concedete. Scene v.] 3l0CaS?ta 399 Ant. Creon, yet I beseche thee for the love — Cre. Away, I say, thy prayers not prevaile. Ant. That thou didst beare Jocasta in hir life — Cre. Thou dost but waste thy words amid the wind. no Ant. Yet graunt me leave to washe his wounded corps. Cre. It can not be that I should graunt thee so. Ant. O my deare Polinice, this tirant yet With all his wrongfull force can not ^^^ sheweth fordoe, the fmtes of But I will kisse these colde pale true kyndly lippes of thine. And washe thy wounds with my waymenting teares. Cre. O simple wench, O fonde and foolishe girle. Beware, beware, thy teares do not foretell Some signe of hard mishap unto thy manage. Ant. No, no, for Hemone will I never wed. 120 Cre. Dost thou refuse the mariage of my Sonne ? Ant. I will nor him nor any other wed. Cre. Against thy will then must I thee con- straint Ant. If thou me force, I sweare thou shalt repent. 400 ^ioca0ta [act v. Cre. E che potrai tu far, ond* io mi penta ? 125 Ant. Con un coltel recidero quel nodo. Cre. Pazza sarai, se te medesma uccidi. Jnt. Io seguiro lo stil d' alcune accorte. Cre. T' intendero, se tu piu chiaro parli. Ant. U uccidero con questa mano ardita. 130 Cre. Temeraria, e crudel, ardisci questo ? Ant. Perche non debbo ardir si bella impresa ? Cre. A che fin, pazza, queste nozze sprezzi ? Ant. Per seguir nell' esilio il padre mio. Cre. Quel ch' in altri e grandezza e in te pazzia. 135 Ant. Morronne ancor, quando ne fia bisogno. Cre. Partiti pria che '1 mio figliuolo ancidi ; Esci, mostro infernal, della Cittade. Scene v.] 3l0Ca6"ta 4°^ Cre. What, canst thou cause that I should once repent ? 125 Jnt. With bloudy knife I can this knot un- knit. Cre. And what a foole were thou to kill thy selfe ! Jnt. I will ensue some worthie womans steppes. Cre. Speake out, Antigone, that I may heare. Ant. This hardie hande shall soone dispatch his life. 130 Cre. O simple foole, and darste thou be so bolde ? Jnt. Why should I dread to do so doughtie deed ? Cre. And wherfore dost thou wedlocke so despise ? Ant. In cruel exile for to folow him (^pointing to Oedipus). Cre. What others might beseeme, beseemes not thee. 135 Ant. If neede require, with him eke will I die. Cre. Departe, departe, and with thy father die. Rather than kill my childe with bloudie knife : Go, hellish monster, go out of the towne. Creon exit. 130 his. MS., my. 134 pointing to Oedipus. MS. omits. Creon exit. MS. omits. 402 ^ioca0ta [act v. Edip, lo lodo, figlia, questa tua fortezza. Ant. Non sara mai ch' accompagnata i' sia, 140 E voi, padre, n' andiate errando solo. Edip. Lasciami sol nelle mie pene, figlia: E tu, mentre che puoi, resta felice. Ant. E chi saria de' vostri passi guida, Misero vecchio, e delle luci privo ? 145 Edip. N' andro, figliuola, ove vorra la sorte, Riposando il meschin corpo dolente Dovunque gli fara coperta il Cielo : Che, in cambio di palagi e ricchi letti, Le selve, le spelunche, e gli antri oscuri, 150 Misero vecchio, mi daranno albergo. Jnt. Ahi, dove e, padre mio, la gloria vostra ? Edip. Un di mi fe' felice, un di m' ha ucciso. Jnt. Dunque io saro de' vostri mali a parte. Scene V.] 3(IOCa0ta 403 Oed. Daughter, I must commende thy noble heart. ,40 Ant. Father, I will not live in tu j ^ r ' The duty of COmpanie, a childe truly And you alone wander in wildernesse. perfourmed. Oed. O yes, deare daughter, leave thou me alone Amid my plagues : be merrie while thou maist. Ant. And who shal guide these aged feete of yours, 145 That banisht bene, in blinde necessite ? Oed. I will endure, as fatal lot me drives. Resting these crooked sorie sides of mine. Where so the heavens shall lend me harborough : And in exchange of rich and stately towers 150 The woodes, the wildernesse, the darkesome dennes Shall be the bowre of mine unhappie bones. Ant. O father, now where is your glorie gone ? Oed. " One happie day did raise me to re- noune. One haplesse day hath throwne mine honour doune." 155 Ant. Yet will I beare a part of your mis- happes. 141 not li've. MS. and Qi, never come. The . . . per- fourmed. Q3 omits. 147 Oed. MS. omits. 404 €>tOtaS?ta [Act v. Edip. Non conven, send' io vecchio, e tu fanciulla. 155 Jnt. Ceda, padre, V onor alia pietate. Edip. Ove e la madre tua? fa ch' io la tocchi : Fa che si renda manifesto al tatto II mal che gli occhi [ora] veder non ponno. Jnt. Qui, padre, e il corpo : qui la man ponete. 160 Edip. O madre, o moglie, misera egualmente, Addolorata madre, Addolorata moglie ; Oime, volesse Dio, volesse Iddio Non fossi stata mai moglie, ne madre. 165 Ma dove giace, o figlia, II miserabil corpo Deir uno e 1' altro mio Infelice figliuolo ? Jnt. Qui giacen morti V un dell' altro ap- presso. 170 Edip. Stendi questa mia man, stendila, figlia, Sopra i lor visi. Jnt. Voi toccate, padre, I vostri figli. Edip. O cari corpi, cari Al vostro padre, e parimente a lui Misero, corpi miseri e infelici. 17S i^^ ora. O, D, miei. ib'j II miserabil corpo. O, I miserabil corpi. Scene V.] 3IOCa0ta 405 Oed. That sitteth not amid thy pleasant yeares. Ant. " Deare father, yes, let youth give place to age." Oed. Where is thy mother ? let me touch hir face. That with these handes I may yet feele the harme i6o That these blinde eyes forbid me to beholde. Ant. Here, father, here hir corps, here put your hande. Oed. O wife, O mother, O both wo full names, O wofull mother, and O wofull wyfe, O woulde to God, alas, O would to God, 165 Thou nere had bene my mother nor my wyfe ! But where lye nowe the paled bodies two Of myne unluckie sonnes, oh, where be they ? Ant. Lo, here they lye, one by an other, deade. Oed. Stretch out this hand, dere daughter, stretch this hande 170 Upon their faces. Ant. Loe, father, here ! lo, nowe you touche them both. Oed. O bodies deare, O bodies dearely boughte Unto your father, bought with high missehap. 157 iitteth. Q3, fitteth. 4o6 ^ioca0ta [act v. Ant. O carissimo a me nome del mio Carissimo fratello Polinice. Deh, perche non poss' io con la mia morte Impetrar da Creonte Al tuo misero corpo sepoltura ? i8o Edip, Or r oracol d' Apollo ha, figlia, efFetto. Ant. Prediss' ei nuovi affanni ai nostri afFanni ? Edip. Ch' Atene esser dovea fin di mia vita. Or poiche tu desideri, figliuola, Nel duro esilio mio d' esser compagna, 185 Porgi la cara man, e andiamo insieme. Ant. Amato padre, io v' accompagno e guido, Debil sostegno, e scorta, Per la dubbiosa strada a gran perigli. Edip. Al misero sarai misera guida. 190 Ant. Certo da questa parte eguale al padre. Edip. Dove porro questo tremante piede ? Porgimi, ahi lasso, porgimi il bastone, Sopra del quale io mi sostenga alquanto. Ant. Qui, padre, qui 1' antico pie ponete. i^^ Edip. Altri io non so incolpar del danno mio, Che '1 mio destin crudele : Tu solo sei cagion ch' or cieco, e vecchio Scene V.] 3IOCa0ta A-OJ Ant. O lovely name of my deare Pollinice, 175 Why can I not of cruell Creon crave, Ne with my death nowe purchase thee a grave ? Odd. Nowe commes Apollos oracle to passe, That I in Athens towne should end my dayes : And since thou doest, O daughter myne, desire 180 In this exile to be my wofull mate, Lende mee thv hande, and let us goe togither. Jnt. Loe, here all prest, my deare beloved father, A feeble guyde and eke a simple scowte To passe the perills in a doubtfull wave! 185 Oed. Unto the wretched be a wretched guyde. Ant. In this all onely equall to my father. Oed. And where shall I sette foorth my trem- bling feete ? O reache mee yet some surer stafFe, to steye My staggryng pace amidde these wayes un- knowns 190 Jnt. Here, father, here, and here set forth your feete. „, . , -^ She giveth Oed. Nowe can I blame none other him a staffe, for my harmes ^"^ stayeth But secrete spight of foredecreed fate : ^^^^ Thou arte the cause, that crooked, olde and blynde, 185 in a. MS., of our. 187 all onely. Q3, alonly. 4o8 ^iocas?ta [act v. Me ne vado lontan della mia terra ; E pato quel che non dovrei patire. 200 Ant. Padre mio, la giustizia non riguarda Con diritt' occhio i miseri ; e non suole Gastigar le pazzie di chi comanda. Edip. Misero me, quanto mutato io sono Da quel ch' io fui. Ben son, ben sono Edipo, 205 Che trionfo d' alta vittoria in Tebe ; Gia temuto e onorato : or (quando place Alia mia Stella) disprezzato, e posto Nel fondo, oime, delle miserie umane, Tal che del primo Edipo in me non resta 210 Altro che '1 nome, e questa effigie sola Ch' assai piu tosto s' assomiglia ad ombra, Ch' forma d' uomo. Ant. O caro padre, omai Ponete nell' obblio la rimembranza Delia passata a voi felice vita ; 215 Che ricordarsi il ben doppia la noia ; E sostenete le presenti pene ; Perche pazienza alleggerisce il male. Ecco, ch' io vengo per morir con voi, Non gia come real figlia, ma come 220 II Scene V.] 3l0CaS^ta 4O9 I am exilde farre from my countrey soyle, 195 And suffer dole that I ought not endure. Ant. " O father, father, Justice lyes on justice sleepe, sleepeth. Ne doth regarde the wrongs of wretchednesse, Ne princes swelling pryde it doth redresse." Oed. O careful! caytife, howe am I nowe changd 200 From that I was ! I am that Oedipus . , . T-u u 1 L J • u • ^ Slasse for 1 hat wnylome had triumphant vie- brittei beude torie ^"'^ ^°^ \\isx^j And was bothe dread and honored eke in Thebes \ But nowe (so pleaseth you, my froward-e starres) Downe headlong hurlde in depth of myserie, 205 So that remaynes of Oedipus no more, As nowe in mee, but even the naked name, And lo ! this image that resembles more Shadowes of death than shape of Oedipus. Ant. O father, nowe forgette the pleasaunt dayes 210 And happie lyfe that you did whvlom leade. The muse whereof redoubleth but you [r] griefe : Susteyne the smarte of these your present paynes With pacience, that best may you preser\T. Lo ! where I come to live and die with you, 215 Not (as sometymes) the daughter of a king, 212 your. So in MS., ^i, Q3. Q2, you. 410 ^iocas^ta [act v. Abbietta serva, povera, e infelice ; Acciocche, avendo a sopportar il peso Delia miseria si fedel compagna, I tormenti di voi siano men gravl. Edip, O sola del mio mal dolce conforto. 225 Jnt. Ogni somma pieta debita e a voi : Cosi volesse Iddio Che seppellir potessi II corpo, oime, di Polinice mio : Ma cio non posso : e '1 non poter m' accresce 230 Doppia pena e martire. Edip. Questo onesto desio fallo sentire Alle compagne tue : forse ch' alcuna, Mossa dalla pieta, cara figliuola, Si condurra per far si degno effetto. 235 Jnt. O padre mio, nella fortuna avversa Mal si trova compagno. Edip. Or drizziamo il cammin, figliuola, adunque Verso i piu aspri e piu sassosi Monti, Dove vestigio uman non si dimostri ; 240 Accio felici chi ci vide un tempo Or non ci vegga miseri e mendichi. Jnt. Patria, io men vado d' ogni mio ben priva Nel piu leggiadro fior de' miei verd' anni ; Scene v.] 3|OCa0ta 41^ But as an abject nowe in povertie, That you, by presence of suche faithfull guide, May better beare the wrecke of miserie. Oed. O onely comforte of my cruell happe. 220 Ant. Your daughters pitie is but due to you : Woulde God I might as well ingrave the corps Of mv deare Pollinice, but I ne maye ; And that I can not, doubleth all my dole. Oed. This thy desire, that is both good and juste, 225 Imparte to some that be thy trustie frendes Who, movde with pitie, maye procure the same. Ant. " Beleeve me, father, when dame for- tune frownes. Be fewe that fynde trustie companions." Oed. And of those fewe, yet one of those am I : 230 Wherefore goe we nowe, daughter, leade the waye Into the stonie rockes and highest hilles. Where fewest trackes of steppings may be spyde. " Who once hath sit in chaire of dignitie May shame to shewe himself in miserie." 235 Ant. From thee, O countrey, am I forst to parte. Despoiled thus in flower of my youth, 412 €>ioca0ta Iactv. E tu resti in poter del mio nimico. 245 Ma ben io raccomando, o Donne, a voi La sfortunata mia sorella Ismene. Edip. Cari miei Cittadini, ecco che '1 vostro Signer, e Re, che alia Citta di Tebe Rese quiete, e securezza, e pace ; 250 Or, come voi vedete, appresso tutti Negletto e vile, e in rozzi panni involto, Scacciato del terren dov' egli nacque, Prende (merce del vostro empio Tiranno) Povero peregrin esilio eterno. 255 Ma perche piango, e mi lamento in darno ? Conven ch' ogni mortal sofFra e patisca Tutto quel che qua giu destina il Cielo. CORO. Con r esempio d' Edipo Impari ognun che regge. Come cangia Fortuna ordine, e stile ; Tal che '1 basso et umile Siede in alto sovente, 5 E colui che superbo Ebbe gia signoria di molta gente Spesso si trova in stato aspro et acerbo. 255 peregrin. O, pellegrino. Chorus] 31OCa0ta 4^3 And yet I leave within my enimies rule Ismene, my infortunate sister. Oed. Deare citizens, beholde ! your ^ mirrour Lord and King, for magis- That Thebes set in quiet government, '''^^"' Now as you see, neglected of you all. And in these ragged ruthfull weedes bewrapt, Ychased from his native countrey soyle, Betakes himself (for so this tirant will) 245 To everlasting banishment : but why Do I lament my lucklesse lot in vaine ? " Since everv man must beare with quiet minde The fate that heavens have earst to him as- signde." Chorus. Example here, loe ! take by Oedipus, You kings and princes in prosperitie, And every one that is desirous To sway the seate of worldlie dignitie, How fickle tis to trust in Fortunes whele : 5 For him whome now she hoyseth up on hie, If so he chaunce on any side to reele. She hurles him downe in twinkling of an eye : And him againe, that grovleth nowe on ground. And lieth lowe in dungeon of dispaire, 10 Hir whirling wheele can heave up at a bounde, 5 t'u. MS. and Qi, is. 414 ^iocasta [act v. Onde, siccome di splendor al Sole Cede la bianca Luna, ,o Cosi ingegno e virtu cede a Fortuna, Chorus.] '^OtU^tU 415 And place aloft in stay of statelie chaire. As from the sunne the moone withdrawes hir face, So might of man doth yeelde dame Fortune place. Finis Actus quinti. Done by G. Gascoigne. Done by G. Gascoigne. Qi omits. Epilogus Lo here, the fruit of high-aspiring minde, Who weenes to mount above the mooving skies ! Lo, here the trap that titles proud do finde ! See, ruine growes when most we reach to rise : Sweete is the name, and statelie is the raigne Of kinglie rule and swey of royall seate, But bitter is the tast of princes gaine. When climbing heades do hunte for to be great. Who would forecast the banke of restlesse toyle, Ambitious wightes do freight their brestes with- all. The growing cares, the feares of dreadfull foyle. To yll successe that on such flightes doth fall. He would not streyne his practise to atchieve The largest limits of the mightiest states. But oh, what fansies sweete do still relieve The hungrie humor of these swelling hates ! What poyson sweet inflameth high desire ! Howe soone the hautie heart is pufft with pride ! Howe soone is thirst of sceptre set on fire ! Howe soone in rising mindes doth mischief slide ! izToyll. MS. andQi,TheeviU. doth. MS. and Qi, do. epilogus.] 3Iocafi>ta 417 What bloudie sturres doth glut of honor breede ! Thambitious sonne doth oft surpresse his sire : Where natures power unfained love should spread, There malice raignes and reacheth to be higher. O blinde unbridled search of sovereintie, 25 O tickle traine of evill attayned state, O fonde desire of princelie dignitie ! Who climbes too soone, he ofte repentes too late. The golden meane the happie doth suffise. They leade the posting day in rare delight, 30 They fill, not feede, their uncontented eyes. They reape such rest as doth beguile the [njight. They not envie the pompe of haughtie traine, Ne dreade the dinte of proude usurping swoorde. But, plaste alowe, more sugred joyes attaine, 35 Than swaye of loftie scepter can afoorde. Cease to aspire, then, cease to soare so hie. And shunne the plague that pierceth noble breastes. To glittring courtes what fondnesse is to flie. When better state in baser towers rests ! 40 Finis Epilogi. Done by Chr. Te her ton. 21 breede. Q3, yelde. 26 tickle. MS., fickle. 32 night. So in MS. and Q3. Qi, Q2, might. 33 traine. MS. and Qi, reigne. 41 8 jl^ote Note, Reader, that there were in Thebes fowre principall gates, wherof the chief and most commonly used were the gates called Elec- tras and the gates Homoloydes. Thys I have thought good to explane ; as also certen words 5 which are not common in use are noted and expounded in the margent. I did begin those notes at request of a gentlewoman who under- stode not poetycall words or termes. I trust those and the rest of my notes throughout the 10 booke shall not be hurtfull to any reader. Note . . . reader. Not in MS. or Qi. 3 called. Q3 omits. 4 have. Q3 omits. i^otesi to ^pcam Popularity of the Phoenissae. The reasons for the popularity of the Phoenissae and transcripts from it are indicated by Paley in the Introduction to his edition of the Greek play (1879) • "This play (the longest extant) was very popular in the later Greek schools. Its varied action, chivalrous descriptions, and double messenger's narrative, first of the general fight between the contending armies, secondly of the duel between the brothers and the suicide of Jocasta, give a sustained interest to a piece which extends to nearly twice the length of the corresponding Aeschylean drama. Besides the above claims to our attention, the play fur- nishes us with a good example of the poet's fondness for rhetorical pleading, in a legal and sophistical exposition of the rights of the rival brothers to the throne. The Phoenissae, in fact, is overloaded with action. It is like a picture in which a whole panorama is in- cluded instead of one definite object." A more modern view of the Phoenissae will be found in the last essay of A. W. Verrall's Euripides the Rationalist. Dolce and Euripides. As will readily be seen on compar- ing the Italian version with the Greek text or an English trans- lation, Dolce dealt freely with his original, especially in the opening of the play and the choruses. But he kept closely to the main lines of the action as laid down by Euripides and his arrangement of the episodes, as the following abstract of the Phoenissae will show : Prologue by Jocasta, lines I— 87 Paedagogus and Antigone, 88-201 Parade by Chorus, 202-260 Polynices and Chorus, 261-300 Jocasta, Polynices, 301-415 Jocasta, Polynices, Eteocles, 416-637 First stasimon, 638-689 Creon, Eteocles, 690-783 Second stasimon, 784-833 Teiresias, Menoeceus, Creon, 834-985 420 jl5otr0 [Dolce interpolates the Priest's part and ex- tends the dialogue between Menoeceus and Creon.] Soliloquy of Menoeceus, 985-1018 [Omitted by Dolce] Third stasimon, 10 19-1066 Messenger, Jocasta, 1 067- 128 3 Chorus, 1284-1309 Creon, Messenger, 1 3 10-1484 Monody of Antigone, 1485-15 37 CEdipus, Antigone, Creon, 15 38-1 766 Notes on Jocasta in Harvey's Gascoigne. Gabriel Harvey, in his copy of Gascoigne, now in the Bodleian Library, has some interesting annotations. At the top of the title-page of Jocasta he has written : " The Mirrour of Magistrates. The Tragedy of king Gorboduc : penn'd by M. Thomas Sackvil, now Lord Buckhurst, and M. Thomas Norton : as the same was shew'd before the (^ueenes Maty, at Whitehall, 1561. by the Gentlemen of the Inner Temple." To the motto at the foot of the page, Fortunatus Infoelix, he adds : "lately the posie of Sir Christopher Hatton. " Beneath the names of the Interloquutors he comments : "An excellent Tragedie : full of many discreet, wise & deep considera- tions. Omne genus scripti gravitate Tragoedia vincit." At the bottom of the next page, which contains part of the dumme shewe, he writes : " Regis Tragici Icon, Philostrato digna artifice." At the end of the first dumme shewe he adds : " Hora aurea. Statii, et Senecae Thebais. " I39> 35- Thebs. Here, and in 1. 183, obviously a mono- syllable ; but apparently used as a dissyllable in lines 113 and 203 of this, and 1. 35 of the following scene. Gascoigne adopts the same licence as Kinwelmersh. Usually he pronounces the word as one syllable (11, i, 45, 61, 383, 468, 516, 559, 578, 597, and 627 ; II, ii, 79) ; but in 11, ii, 107, it is two syllables. 143, 70-71. "Experience proves," etc. "The lines marked with initial commas are so distinguished to call the attention to some notable sentiment or reflection. — " F.J. C. (Francis James Child) in Four Old Plays. il^oteflf 421 145, 89. PhocideS land. *' Phocis. The early poets are in the habit of using the genitive of classical proper names, or the genitive slightly altered, for the nominative. Thus Skelton wutes Zenophontei for Xenophon, Eneidos for Eneis, etc." — F. J. C. u. s. ISJ. Scena 2. In the opening speech of this scene, Kinvirel- mersh enlarges upon his original, as will be seen by comparison with the Italian text. 161. Scena 3. At the top of the page, above the stage- direction giving the names, Harvey has here inscribed : " Seneca saepe, the state of princes." He evidently refers to the common- places of the preceding speech. 161,4-5. To whom . . . govenour. These lines are, of course, inconsistent with the change made by Kinwelmersh in the stage-direction just above, in which he speaks of '* hir govern- our," although the Italian text says plainly " Bailo di Polinice. " The phrase, " hir governour," is repeated in the stage-direction at the end of this scene. The change may have been made deliberately, for it is supported by the text of the Phoenissae, from which Dolce has departed more in the opening than in any other part of the play. It is curious that the word Bailo^ which, as Professor Ma- haffy points out, is the regular Venetian title for a governor or tutor, did not earlier draw the attention of critics to the Italian origin of yocasta. 167, 71. To trappe him. This broken line was perhaps suggested by the irregular metre of this speech in the Italian text. In Euripides all Antigone's speeches in this scene are in strophic measures, which Dolce apparently attempted to present, in part at least, by varying the length of his lines. The English translators reduced all except the choruses to blank verse. I75> 173- It Standes not, &C. Cf. Laertes' speech to Ophelia [Hamlet i, iii) : " Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain, etc." F. J. C. u. s. 177, 181-190. You cannot be . . . fade away. Here again, as will be seen, the Italian original has been extended by the translator. 177-83. Chorus. It will be noticed that the choruses, especially those of Kinwelmersh, are more loosely translated than the text. 422 0Ott$ 191, 40. My feebled . . . agonie. My feet enfeebled with age and suffering. 195, 79. mothers due. It is curious to note how from trans- lation to translation this passage has lost the beauty and force of the original. Readers of Greek should look up the text of the Phoenissae, 339-357, thus translated by Mr. A. S. Way : But thou, my son, men say, hast made affiance With strangers : children gotten in thine halls Gladden thee, yea, thou soughtest strange alliance ! Son, on thy mother falls Thine alien bridal's curse to haunt her ever. Thee shall a voice from Laius' grave accuse. The spousal torch for thee I kindled never, As happy mothers use; Nor for thy bridal did Ismenus bring thee Joy of the bath ; nor at the entering-in Of this thy bride did Theban maidens sing thee. A curse be on that sin. Whether of steel's spell, strife-lust, or thy father It sprang, or whether revel of demons rose In halls of CEdipus ! — on mine head gather All tortures of these woes. Dolce' s manner of dealing with his original is weU illustrated in this scene, and E. P. Coleridge's translation (1891) of lines 379- 424 of the Phoenissae is accordingly appended. It is represented by lines 1 3 1-2 1 8 of the English and 130-216 of the Italian text : "Joe. Some god with fell intent is plaguing the race of CEdipus. Thus it all began ; I broke God's law and bore a son, and in an evil hour married thy father and thou wert born. But why repeat these horrors ? What Heaven sends we have to bear. I am afraid to ask thee what I fain would, for fear of wounding thy feelings ; yet I long to. Pol. Nay, question me, leave naught unsaid ; for thy will, mother, is my pleasure too. Joe. Well then, first I ask thee what I long to have an- swered. What means exile from one's country ? is it a great evil ? Pol. The greatest ; harder to bear than tell. Joe. What is it like ? What is it galls the exile ? Pol. One thing most of all ; he cannot speak his mind. 0Ott^ 423 yoc. This is a slare's lot thou describest, to refrain from utter- ing what one thinks. Pol. The follies of his rulers must he bear. yoc. That too is bitter, to join in the folly of fools. Pol. Yet to gain our ends we must submit against our nature. yoc. Hope, they say, is the exile's food. Pol. Aye, hope that looks so fair 5 but she is ever in the future. yoc. But doth not time expose her futility ? Pol. She hath a certain winsome charm in misfortune. yoc. Whence hadst thou means to live, ere thy marriage found it for thee ? Po/. One while I had enough for the day, and then maybe I had it not. yoc. Did not thy father's friends and whilom guests assist thee ? Pol. Seek to be prosperous ; once let fortune lour, and the aid supplied by friends is naught. yoc. Did not thy noble breeding exalt thy horn for thee ? Pol. Poverty is a curse ; breeding would not find me food. yoc. Man's dearest treasure then, it seems, is his country. Pol. No words of thine could tell how dear. yoc. How was it thou didst go to Argos ? What was thy scheme ? Pol. I know not ; the deitv summoned me thither in accord- ance with my destiny. yoc. He doubtless had some wise design ; but how didst thou win thy wife ? Pol. Loxias had given Adrastus an oracle. yoc. What was it ? What meanest thou ? I cannot guess. Pol. That he should wed his daughters to a boar and a lion. yoc. What hadst thou, my son, to do with the name of beasts ? Pol. It was night when I reached the porch of Adrastus. yoc. In search of a resting-place, or wandering thither in thy exile ? Pol. Yes, I wandered thither ; and so did another like me. yoc. Who was he ? he too it seems was in evil plight. Pol. Tydeus, son of CEneus, was his name. yoc. But why did Adrastus liken you to wild beasts } 424 il^otrs? Pol. Because we came to blows about our bed. yoc. Was it then that the son of Talaus understood the oracle ? Pol. Yes, and he gave to us his daughters twain. yoc. Art thou blest or curst in thy marriage ? Pol. As yet I have no fault to find with it. 223, 392-93. Tullyes opinyon. Cicero, De officHs, i, 8 : Declaravit id modo temeritas C. Caesaris, qui omnia jura divina atque humana pervertit, propter eum, quern sibi ipse opinionis errore finxerat, principatum. The Greek of Euripides [PAoenissae, 534), which Gascoigne here translates from Dolce, runs : eiirep yap aSiKeTv XP^t rvpavvlSos Trepi KaWicTTOu aSLKe'iv. Nam si violandum est jus, imperii gratia Violandum est : aliis rebus pietatem colas. Hos versus Suetonius Julium Caesarem semper in ore habuisse scribit. — Gaspari Stiblini Annotationes. Gascoigne' s marginal note is a little astray, in that Cicero does not give this maxim as his own view, but merely ascribes it to Caesar. 223, 393. beare the buckler best. Offer the best de- fence or justification. 225, 410- hir, ambition's. 227, 415. Equalitie. See note on p. 126. 227, 419. that other, ambition. 229, 441. That compts a pompe . . . command. That takes pride in absolute rule. 237, 534-36. For well I wist ... be callde. These three lines are a misunderstanding of the original Italian, which may be literally translated : " The cautious general is always supe- rior to the rash one ; and you are vile, ignorant, and rash beyond every one else. ' ' 239, 545-46. Good Gods ... to flight. Another mis- translation. The Italian merely says : " Alas ! whoever saw any- thing more fierce ? ' ' 255, 56. cammassado. Camisado : *' It is a sudden assault, wherein the souldiers doe were shirts over their armours, to know their owne company from the enemy, least they should in the jl^otes? 425 darke kill of their owne company in stead of the enemy ; or when they take their enemies in their beds and their shirts, for it com- meth of the Spanish Cami^a, i. e. a shirt." — Minsheu, Diet. Etym.^ quoted by F. J. C. u. s. 255,65. As who . . . defence. Do you expect them to make no defence ? 257, 76- to done, to do. Dative of verbal noun. 257, 81. Well, with the rest. Well with the help of the other citizens. 271,1. Thou trustie guide. ''The reader will remember Milton's imitation of this passage at the beginning of Samson Ago- nistes and Wordsworth's beautiful reminiscence of both poets." — F. J. C. u. s. 279, 86. Venus. The " angrie Queene " was, of course, Hera. The mistake in the margin is corrected in a contemporary handwriting in the copy of Q3 at the British Museum. 281, 118-20. I see . . . greene. Dolce seems to have taken some details of this sacrificial scene from Seneca. Cf. these lines with CEdipus 318-324: Non una facies mobilis flammae fuit. Imbrifera qualis inplicat varies sibi iris colores parte quae magna poli curvata picto nuntiat nimbos sinu : quis desit illi quisve sit dubites color. caerulea fulvis mixta oberravit notis, sanguinea rursus, ultimum in tenebras abit. 285, 150-51. Why fleest . . . fell. This is a very natural misunderstanding of the Italian text, but it suggests that Gascoigne did not even consult the original Greek, which reads (PAoenissae, 898) : KPE. Meivov ri cjjevyeis /i'; T. r) tvxv <^\ aW' ovk iyu>. — Cre, Stay ! Why do you fly from me : — Tei. Fortune flies from thee, not I. 301, 72-73- "A beast . . . life." The second line is an addition by Gascoigne. The Italian says merely: " The man who kills himself is mad." 305,103. Thesbeoita. See p. xxvin of the Introduction as to the significance of the reading Thesbrotia. 426 JliOtC0 321, 57- Whose names ye have alreadie under- Stoode. The names of the captains, although given in Euripides, were as a matter of fact suppressed by Dolce. They are given in the Latin translation of the Phoenissae, together with the names of the seven gates, including the portas Homoloidas, and Electras portas so often referred to in the stage-directions of the English play. 324,116. O che forse periscano ambedue. Omitted in English version and in O. See note on p. 126. 331, 3. Come forth . . . daunce. A singularly inept ren- dering, both in the Italian and the English, of the original Greek. Phoenissae, 1270-72 : '^n t4kvov, 6|e\0', "AuTiyovr] SS/xav irdpos. OvK iv xopf ''«ts ov5e Trapdeuevfiacri Nvv (Toi Trpox^pet Sai/xduwu Kurdcrracns. Daughter Antigone, come forth the house ! No dances, neither toils of maiden hands. Beseem thee in this hour of heaven's doom. (Way's translation.) 343, 40-42. In mourning weede . . . despoyle my Selfe. A ludicrous mistranslation of the Italian, which reads : " Here, my lord, I put on the robe of mortality, and here let me put it off again with honour." 375, 164. With staggring . . . Stigian reigne. The alliteration of this line is characteristic of Gascoigne. Cf. v, iii, 5, and v, iv, 11. See Schelling, Life and ff^ritings of George Gascoigne^ pp. 31-32. 378, 203-04. Poiche . . . abbiamo. Gascoigne has omit- ted the last two lines of the Messenger's speech. 379-385. Scena 3, Scena 4. As to the metre of these scenes see note on p. 169, 1. 71. 380, 26-27. Madre . . . fratelli. These two lines of the Italian are omitted in the English version. 401, 128. I will ensue . . . steppes. Another instance of growing weakness as the translations recede from the original. In the Phoenissae (1669) Antigone says : Ni;| Sp' iKeivrj AavatSwu fi e^ei fxlav. " The night (of my marriage) shall add one to the number of the Danaides." The daughters of Danaus, forced to marry the sons of Aegyptus, killed them on their wedding night. 401, 135. What . . . thee. For this mistranslation Dolce was mainly responsible. The Greek reads {Phoenissae, 1674): T€vvai.6Ti]S croi, fxwpia 5' tv^ari ns " Noble thy spirit, yet lurks folly there." — (Way.) In the Latin version the original is prosaically but correctly trans- lated : Generositas tibi inest, sed tamen stultitia quaedam inest. Dolce changes this to a version which may be rendered, " That which in others is greatness is madness in thee"j and Gascoigne submissively follows his blind guide. 413. Chorus. This is Dolce's, though the thought is taken from Seneca. The Greek play ends with a "tag" purporting to be spoken by the Chorus, not in their assumed character as persons in the drama, but in their true character as Athenians contending in a dramatic competition. The tag takes the form of a prayer to Victory, " O mighty lady, Victory, pervade my life, and cease not to give me crowns. ' ' Alluding to the fact that the Pkoenissae gained the second prize, it signifies a hope that the play may please readers as well as it pleased the judges, and that other successes may fol- low. — Verrall, u. s. pp. 169-170. Dolce probably omitted the tag because he did not understand its significance, and having to sub- stitute something for it, he turned to his favourite author, Seneca. •BfliKogmp]^^ The place of publication is London unless otherwise indicated I. TEXTS [1568.] JocASTA : A tragedie written in Greke by Euripides, translated and digested into Acte by George Gascoign and ffraunces Kynwelmershe of Grays ynne. 1 5 66. [British Museum, Addi- tional MSS., No. 34,063.] [1573.] A HUNDRETH SUNDRIE FlOWRES BOUNDE UP IN ONE SMALL PoESiE. Gathered partely [by translation^ in the fyne outlandish Gardins of Euripides, Ovid, Petrarke, Ariosto, and others : and partly by invention, out of our owne fruitefull Orchardes in Englande : Yelding sundrie sweete savours of Tragical, Comical, and Morall Discourses, bothe pleasaunt and profitable to the well smellyng noses of learned Readers. Meritum petere, gra-ve. At London, Imprinted for Richarde Smith. 1575* There were two issues of this edition, differing mainly in the title-page. That of the first reads : The Posies of George Gascoigne EsguiRE. Corrected, perfected, and augmented by the Authour. 1575. Tarn Marti quam M.ercurio. Imprinted at Lon- don by H. Bynneman for Richard Smith. These Bookes are to be solde at the North-west dore of Paules Church. The ornament of this title is ungainly and out of harmony with the rest of the book. This was probably the reason why it was changed, after a certain number of copies had been struck off, for the tide now ordinarily found, a facsimile of which may be seen on p. I. It reads the same as the above as far as the italicised motto, afi:er which follows the emblematical device of the book- seller, with the initials R.S. and a new imprint: ** Printed at London for Richard Smith, and are to be solde at the Northvveast doore of Paules Church." The priority of the issue bearing Bynneman' s name on the title-page is indicated by the fact that the words at the end of the F/owers ; ''corected, perfected, and fivished " are amended to " Corected, perfected, and finished " in the other issue. Otherwise the two issues appear to be identical. Both have on p. 192 of the JVeedes a curious ornament dated by the engraver Jan. 1574(1575 N. S.), which must have been made not long before the edition was printed. 1587. There were two issues of this edition also, the title- pages differing only in that one reads The Whole workes, the other The pleasauntest workes of George Gascoigne Esquyre : Newlye compyled into one Volume, That is to say: His Flowres, Hearbes, Weedes, the Fruites of warre, the Comedie called Sup- poses, the Tragedie of Jocasta, the Steele glasse, the Complaint of Phylomene, the Storie of Ferdinando Jeronimi^ and the pleasure at Kenelworth Castle. London Imprinted by Abell Jeffes, dwelling in the Fore Streete, without Creeplegate, neere unto Grubstreete. 1587. The difference in title is probably accounted for, as Mr. Hazlitt suggests^ by the publisher's failure to carry out his inten- tion of issuing a complete edition of Gascoigne's works. 1773. The Origin of the English Drama. Thomas Hawkins. Oxford. 3 vols. Vol. iii contains the Supposes. 1848. Four Old Plays. Three Interludes: . . . andjocasta a Tragedy, by Gascoigne and Kinwelmarsh with an Introduction and Notes [by Francis James Child], Cambridge, Mass. 1869-70. The Complete Poems of George Gascoigne. Edited by William Carew Hazlitt. Two Volumes. The Rox- hurghe Library. II. BIOGRAPHICAL 1577. A Remembraunce of the wel imployed life and GODLY END OF George Gaskoigne Esquire. Georgc Whetstone. 1 69 1-2. Athenae Oxonienses. Anthony Wood. 1838-54. Chorus Vatum Anglicanorum. Joseph Hunter. British Museum, Additional MSS., No. 24. 487. The life of Gascoigne begins on p. 448 of vol. i. 1858. Athenae Cantabrigienses. C. H. and T, Cooper. Cambridge, pp. 374-78 and 565-66. 430 llBibliogtapl^^ 1868. Chronicle of the Life, Works, and Times of G, Gascoigne. Edward Arber in English Reprints. 1893. The Life and Writings of George Gascoigne. Felix E. Schelling. Boston, Mass. ( Publications of the University of Pennsylvania. ") 1896. The Spoil of Antwerp. Prefatory Note. Edward Arber in An English Garner. Vol. vni. (New issue, edited by A. F. Pollard, 1903.) III. HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL In this list are included only ivorks ha'ving special reference to the plays translated h^ Gascoigne or the relations betiveen early Ital- ian and English Drama. Useful information of a more general character may be gained from the ivorks of Allacci, Cooper Walker y Creizenach, Fontanini, Gaspary^ Ginguene, Klein, Napoli-Signo- relli, Riccoboni, Symonds, Tiraboschi, Ward, War ton, and others. 1862. Memoria intorno la vita e gli scritti di Messer LoDovico Dolce. E. A. Cicogna in Memorie I. R. Instituto Veneto. Vol. XI. 1866. Studi intorno la vita di Lodovico Ariosto. Giuseppe Campori in Memorie della regia accademia di scienze lettere ed arti in Modena. Vol 11. Since republished with additions as NoTiziE PER LA VITA DI L. Ariosto. (Modena, 1871. Firenze, 1896.) 1873. L' imitazione classica nella commedia italiana DEL XVI. SECOLO. Vinccnzo De Amicis. Annali della reale scuola normale superior e di Pisa. Nuova edizione riveduta dall' autore, 1897. 1876. Le commedie d' Ariosto. Gustavo Tirinelli in Nuo-va Antologia, III, pp. 5 33-5 5^ • 1 88 1. Bibliografia Ariostesca. Giuseppe Jacopo Ferrazzi. Bassano. 1886. The Influence of Italian upon English Litera- ture during the sixteenth and seventeenth Centuries. Jas. Ross Murray. Cambridge. (Le Bas Prize Essay.) ^ISibliograpf)^ 43' 1887. Letters di Lodovico Ariosto. Terza edizione riv- eduta ed accresciuta. Antonio Cappelli. Milano. 1888. COMMEDIE CLASSICHE IN FeRRARA NEL I499. A. Luzio and R. Renierin Giornale Storico della Letter atur a Italiana^ Vol. XI. 1890. Giambattista Giraldi e la tragedia italiana NEL SECOLO XVI. Pietro Bilancini. Aquila. 1 89 1. Origini DEL TEATRo italiano. Scconda cdizione Hvista ed accresciuta. Alessandro D' Ancona. Torino. 1 89 1. Il teatro ferrarese nella seconda meta del SECOLO XVI. Angelo Solerti and Domenico Lanza in Giornale Storico della Letteratura Italiana. Vol. xviii. 1892. Die Anfange der Renaissance Tragodie. Wilhelm von Cloetta. {Beitrdge zur Litter aturgeichichte des Mittelalters und der Renaissance. Vol. ii.) Halle. 1892. Zu den Opere Minori des Ludovico Ariosto. Heinrich Kehrli. (Doctoral thesis, University of Zurich. ) Bern. 1894. ^^^ Dekoration der modernen BiJHNE IN Italien von den Anfangen bis zum Schluss des XVI. Jahrhunderts. Eduard Flechsig. (Doctoral thesis, University of Leipsic. ) Dresden. 1895. The Predecessors of Shakspere. John Churton Collins in Essays and Studies (originally published in the Sluarterly Revieiv ) . 1898. Beitrag zu einer Geschichte der dramatischen EiNHEiTEN IN Italien. J. Ebner. Erlangen & Leipzig. i^MUnchener Beitrage, xv. ) 1898. Il Cinquecento. Francesco Flamini. [Storia letter- aria ro. caphers, capers. 5. v, iv, 21. careful, anxious, full of care. y. I, C, 4 ; V, V, 200. carefully, in anxiety, y. iv, iii, 17. carkasse, body. y. Fourth Dumhe Sheive et passim. caters, caterers. S. i, iii, 30 5 III, i, 70. cautels, traps, artifices. L. Latin '• cautela" ; 5. iv, viii, 84._ caytife, wretched, guilty per- son, y. V, v, 200 ; S. Ill, iii, 68. charettes, carts. Fr. cha- rette. S. II, i, 131. chivalrie, cavalry. See Italian text. y. IV, i, 82. clean, completely, y. 11, i, 63 J IV, i, 41 j S. Ill, V, 29. COdpeece, a bagged append- age to the front of the hose. S. I, iii, 22. cods {more correct form^ ^'''^)) scrotum. S. 11, iv, 142. colling, embracing. S. i, iii, COllop, slice, portion. .S. iii, iii, 88. COmmoditie, advantage, y. II, i, 257; III, ii, 31 ; 5. v, iii, 46. COmpanie, comrades. y. Fourth Dumbe Sheive, 19. conceit, what is conceived in the mind. y. 11, i, 358. conge, leave, y. iii, ii, 113. COnjecte, conjecture, y. in, i, 117. ^Io00ar^ 435 conney, rabbit. S. IV, V, 48. COntentation, contentment. 7. n, i, 447 ; ^. I, ii, 44 5 I, iii, no J m, i, 65 5 v, x, 44- COntentations, causes of con- tent, y. II, i, 95. contrarie, false. 5. v, v, 14 ; V, vi, 10 j ix, 6. controversies, law suits. S. IV, viii, 21. COrnua {Latin) ^ horns. 5. Ill, i, 60. COrosive, destroyer. J. 11, i, 402 ; S. Ill, iii, 62. costerd, head. S. iv, vii, 63- COUnsailing, giving legal ad- vice. S. I, ii, 68. cover, conceal. J. 11, i, 358. covered, concealed. J. 11, h 179- COystrell, a base fellow. 6". I, i, 152. cracke-halter, one likely to crack or strain a halter, /. e. to die by the gallows 5 also playfully, rogue. Cf. crack- hemp and crack-rope. S. i, iv, 7. Crusadoe, a Portuguese coin bearing the figure of a cross, originally of gold, later also of silver. S. in, iv, 24. cut, a docked or gelded horse. ^- '^> ^> 59- ^°^ ^^^ expres- sion '< call me cut," cf Twelfth Night, 11, iii, 203. cyndring, reducing to ashes. J. II, i, 387. cythren, citterns. The cit- tern was an instrument like a guitar, but played with a plec- trum or quill. y. First Dumbe Shelve, 3. Dan, dominus. Lord. J. iv, c, 20. daunting, stunning. J. v, ii, 86. Deane, valley. S. m, iii, 7. disease, annoy, displease. J. II, i, 142. dishonested, dishonoured. S. III, iii, 43, translating P, *' dishonorato." divine, divining. J . The names of the Interloquutors, lo. divine, diviner. J. i, i, 395 11, "> 1135 "i> '> 46; in, ii, 3. dole, sorrow. J. 11, i, 621 j V, iii, 53 ; V, 196, 224. dolour, sorrow. J. iv, ii, 54. S. I, iii. III. Dotipole, blockhead. See Murray"" s Dictionary^ under Doddypoll, ivhich is the com- mon form in later times. S. I, i, 146, -where Doctor Dotipole translates " II Dottoraccio." See also Baker's Endymion (N. Y. 1%^^) pp.cxxx-i and Note No. 2g to Section Ix of War- ton'' s History of English Poetry for the Eli'zabethan play ^^The Wisdome of Dr. Doddypoll.'" 43^ ^los^fi^ar^ drabbe, a dirty and untidy woman: a slut, slattern. S. V, vi, 7. earst, erst, before, y. i, i, 117; ", c, 5; "I, c, 3; V, V, 249. S. I, i, 40; III, ii, II. eftsoones, forthwith, y. i,iii, 59 ; agai"- 7- "I) "» 109- elde, old age. y. Ill, i, 18. election, choice. S. iv, iii, 54- embowde, arched, y. I, ii, 10. emprise, enterprise, y. 11, ii, 72. enpalde, surrounded, y. i, iii, 158, erst, see earst. exul, exile, y. i, i, 165. fall, happen, y. 11, i, 406 ; 11, ii, 95, fardell, burden, parcel. S. iv, viii, 55. Cf. Hamlet III, i, 76. feere, see pheere. fell, skin. S. IV, iii, 17, fetches, stratagems, S. I, iii, 100. Cf. Lear, n, iv, 90. flowring, flourishing, in full bloom, y. IV, i, 13. fond, foolish, y. I, iii, 182. S. Prologue et passim. fordoe, prevent, y. v, v, 114. foredrad, dreaded before-hand. y. Argument, 6. forwasted, entirely wasted, J- ", i, 517. forworne, worn out, y. iv, ii> 37- foyle, defeat, y. i, c, 21. Ep- ilogue, 1 1 , fraight, fraught, y. i, i, 95. fraught, laden, filled, y. iv, i, 66. freat, consume, wear away. S. v, iii, 10. fulkers, usurers. S. 11, iv, 76. fumbling, faltering, y. v, ii, 154. fyle, make smooth, y. 11, i, 247. gaulde, gall, torment, y. iii, c, 4. gayson, scarce, S. i, ii, 94, geere, affair, business, S. pas- sim. gorget, a piece of armour for the throat, y. Second Dumbe Shelve, 23. graffe, engraft, create, y. iv, c, 37- gramercy, thanks, y. 11, i, 24; II, ii, 129; III, i, 25. granair, granary. S. Ill, iv, 20, translating "granari." gree, pleasure, y. in, i, 10 1. greed, agreed, y. v, i, 28, griesly, fearful, terrible, y. i, i, 139; II, I, 20. habite, attire. 5. 1, i, 21, 130; I, iii, 120. halter - sicke, gallows - bird. The more correct form seems <5lo00ar^ 437 to be halter-sacke, luhich is the original reading in Qi, changed, ho-ive'ver, in the ' * Faultes escaped Correction. ' ' S. Ill, i, 13. hap, happen. J. 11, ii, 1315 V, ii, 90. happe, fortune, chance, y. I, iii, 58 ; IV, iii, 14; v, v, 220. harbrough, refuge, y. n, i, 200 ; V, V, 149. harlotrie, scurvy, worthless. S. II, iv, 8. headie, headstrong. y. II, c, 3; V, V, 14. hearclothes, haircloth, y. Second Dumbe Shelve, 4. hempstring, one who deserves the halter. 5. iv, ii, 22. hent, taken, y. v, ii, 26. hest, behest, command, y. i, iii, 164 ; II, i, 25 i, 635 j 11, ii, 122, 135 ; III, ii, 68 j in, c, 51. hight, v/as called, y. iv, c, 17- hoyse, hoist, uplift, y. v, c,6. I, praesequar, Go, I will fol- low. S. V, V, 33. impe, offspring, child, y. i, i, 54 ; II, i, 32. infracte, unbroken. S. I, ii, injurious, insulting. S. IV, V, 27. Cf. Coriolanus, iii, iii, 69 : Thou injurious tribune. irked, wearied, y. 11, i, 200. Jack pack, fellow. 5. i, iii, last line. jarring, quarrelsome, y. i, iii, 58. jelousie, suspicion, y. i, iii, 117- joyly, lively, well-dressed, hand- some. S. I, iii, 43. joyning, adjoining, y. iv, i, 130. kallat (more usual form, collet), a term of abuse. S. v, vi, I. kind, nature, y. i, c, 1 3. lavish, free-spoken. S. v, v, 115. lese, lose. y. II, i, 26 ; in, i, 3. S. in, ii,4; v, ii, 42. let, prevent. S. ni, iv, 66. likes, pleases, y. 11, i, 438. liked, pleased. S. iv, iii, 50. liketh. 5. V, 62. lobcocke, a dull, heavy, stu- pid fellow. S. II, iii, 18. lumpishe, unwieldy, dull. y. Ill, ii, 43. luskie, lazy, sluggish. S. i, i, 150. lustlesse, joyless, feeble, y. n, i, 65. male, trunk. 5. iv, iii, 22, translating * * valigia. ' ' 438 ^lofifflfarr matched, mated. S. IV, V, 34- moe, more. J. m, i, 197, et passim. mould, mole. S. V, V, 176, 177. mumpsimus, properly an error obstinately adhered to, in al- lusion to the story of the old monk, who, when corrected for a mistake in his prayers, said : " I am not going to change my old ' mumpsimus ' for your new ' sumpsimus. ' S. I, iii, 112, where it ap- pears to be merely a term of opprobrium, translating V^ **questo tisico vecchio. " murre, cold in the head. 5. II, iv, 137. mustie, damp, gloomy. 11, i, 569. ne, not, nor, passim. nill, will not. J. II, ii, 52. nonce, occasion. 5. iii, iii, 22. noysome, tiresome. 5. IV, iii, 40. occupy, profess, be engaged in. S. IV, V, 10. overpining, distressing. J. V, i, 17. paine, toil. 5. 11, iv, 131. paisse, balancing, leverage. J. IV, i, 47. paled, pallid. J. V, V, 167. parle, parley. J. Second Dumbe Shelve, 26. Cf. Hamlet, i, i, 62. part, depart. J. 11, i, 612; V, ii, 172. passe, take notice. S. iv, vii, 66. paune, security, pledge. S. 11, iv, 75, 76. pawnes, pledges. J. 11, i, 453- pencion, payment. S. i, i, 55, ivhere the Italian reads '*pensione." L. L. pensio. percase, perchance. J. iii, i, 145 ; V, ii, 27. S. Pro- logue, 7. perusing, examining. J. Third Dumbe Sheive, 1 4. pestil, pestle. S. IV, vii, 51, translating V, ** pestel da salza. " pheere, companion, consort. J. I, i, 75 ; II, i, 502 ; iv, c, 3 1 ; V, iii, 29. pickling, paltry, trifling. S. I, "> 73» 74- points, laces. S. i, iii, 21. politiquely, craftily. J. Fourth Dumbe Shelve, 1 7. pollicie, trick. S. i, i, 145. posting, hastening. J. Epi- logue, 30. potestates, authorities, mag- istrates. S. Ill, iii, 38 ; IV, viii, 48, 53, ivhere it translates " Podesta." ^loflfsfar^ 439 poulters, poulterers. S. iii, i, 68. practise, stratagem. S. in, ii, 25. presently, now, at present. y. IV, ii, 5 ; S. 11, ii, 14. prest, ready. J. v, v, 183. prickt, decorated, y. 11, i, 302. primero, a game of cards. S. in, ii, 3. proper, pecvdiar, belonging ex- clusively to. y. I, ii, 452. purchase, obtain, y. m, ii, 9. IV, iii, 8. purveyed, provided, predes- tined, y. V, ii, 27. queane, woman ; often used as a term of abuse, equivalent to jade, hussy. S. iii, iv, 67. queynt, strange, far-fetched. 7- n, j, 257. quit, relieve, release, y. iv, i, 15. quite, quit, give up. 5. v, x, reade, saying, pronouncement. y. I, i, 107. reave, take away. y. i, iii, 100. II, i, 371, 621. V, iv, 21 ; deprive, y. i, iii, 3. IV, ii, 24. recknest, givest account of. S. II, iv, no, recorde, remember '^. iv, ii. 8. recurelesse, without remedy, mortal, y. i, i, 3. v, iv, 29. reft, took, or taken away. y. Ill, c, 8. V, iii, 24 ; be- reaved, deprived, y. v, iii, rest, remainder, balance, all that is left. S. in, ii, 6, 10. ridde, got rid of. y. 11, ii, i. rood, cross. S. I, ii, 166. royst, swagger. S. I, ii, 77. runagate, a worthless person, vagabond, tramp. Really the same ivordas "renegado," but early confused luith "run" and " gate " [street^. S. iv, vii, 54, translating '< fugi- tive. ' ' S. Nicolas, famous for his piety ; while still an infant at the breast he fasted regularly on Wednesdays and Fridays. His festival is on Dec. 6. S. I, iii, 2. scabbed, mean, paltry, worth- less. 5. Ill, iv, 67. scout, outlook, y. II, i, 8. serchers, examiners for local duties. 5. IV, iii, 20, trans- lating '* gabellieri." set, esteem, y. 11, i, 104. sevennight, a week. S. v, ii, 65, ix, 16. shamefast, modest. The older and more correct form of *' shame-faced." y. iv, i, i. 440 ^losf^ar^ shift, stratagem. S. iv, i, 21, shotterell, a kind of fish. S. II, iv, 9, nuhere it trans- lates ''luccietto" (pickerel). silly, simple, guileless. J. iv, ii, 38. sithens, since, afterwards. J. n, i, 214. skride, descried. J. iv, iii, 7. slipstring, a careless prodigal person ; a truant. 5. iii, i, 8. Cf. Mother Bombie, 11, i : Dro. Thou art a slipstring He war- rant. Half. I hope you shall never slip string, but hang steddie ( Bond's Lyly, in, p. 184, 11. 54-55)- solempne, solemn. J. Third Dumbe Sheive^ 16. Sollicite, plead. S. IV, viii, 70. SOWSSe, flood, y. V, iii, 20. splayde, displayed. J. 11, i, 386. spred, noised abroad. J. i, i, 12. spurlings, smelts. S. 11, iv, 10. stale, decoy, object of allure- ment. S. Ill, iv, 61. Staunce, position, situation ; or perhaps disagreement. S. II, iv, 35, where it translates *' discordia." startling, starting, startled. J. V, ii, 104. Stayde, steadfast, assmred. J. II, i, 459. still-pipes, pipes for playing stiU, /. e. soft music. Laste Dumbe Shewe, I. stint, make cease. J. i, i, 200. V, ii, 43. sturres, commotions, disturb- ances, y. Epilogue, 21. SUgred, sweet, y. IV, c, 10. Epilogue, 35. 5. I, iii, 106. SUpernall, supernatural, y. I, i, 38- SUppositorie, a body intro- duced into the rectum. S. v, X, 63. surpresse, suppress, y. Epi- logue, 22. SUpravisour, superviser. S. V, ii, 62. surcease, cease, y. iv, i, 5. suspect, suspicion, y. 11, i, 6, 445. IV, i, 15, 108; iii, 6. SUStentation, sustenance. S. in, iii, 78. tables, memorandum-book. S. I, i. Cf. Hamlet, i, v, 107. target, shield, y. Second Dumbe Shelve, 11. teinte, touch, y. v, ii, 76. Cf. Berner's Froissart, 11, clxviii, 470 : They ran to- gider, and tainted eche other on the helmes. therwhile, in the meantime. y. I, iii, 124. tofore, before. S. iii, ii, 15. to fuge, took to flight. .S. IV, aios?sfar^ 441 i, 17, where P reads: "ho voltato subito le piante. ' ' toye, trick. S. u, iv, 91, ivhere it translates *< cian- cietta." S. V, vi, 44. travell, labour. J. m, i, 18. S. IV, iii, 7, 10. V, ii, 4. trothlesse, treacherous. J. I, iii, 91. trotte, contemptuous term for an old woman. S. end of Act III, V, ii, 54. trustlesse, not to be trusted. J. n, i, 98. II, i, 398. in, i, I. ure, use, practice. J. iii, i, 221. Ver, spring. J. IV, c, 22, violles, ancient musical instru- ments of much the same form as violins. J. First Dumbe Shelve^ 2. way, weigh, y. IV, ii, 31. ■weedes, garments. J. v, v, weenes, thinks. J. i, ii, 19. Epilogue, 2. whelme, overwhelm. J. 11, i, 584. ■wher, whereas. S. v, x, 28. wrecke, revenge. J. 11, c, 9- wrekefull, revengeful. J. II, i, 131. yfrought, see fraught. J. V, ii, 74. yonker, youngster, S. i, i, 150. ni, i, 12. -^. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. iSi -JUL? .|S«. ^fo'fe RECD LDURB SEP 2 6 1972 20m-7.'67(H3149s4l - "> Ut !C 1 ¥\ 3 1158 00381 7235 PR 2535 S95 1906