THE RETVRNE FROM PERNASSVS: Or The Scourge of Simony. Publiquely acted by the Students in Saint Iohns Colledge in Cambridge.

AT LONDON Printed by G. Eld, for Iohn Wright, and are to bee sold at his shop at Christ church Gate. 1606.

The Prologue.

Boy, Stagekeeper, Momus, Defensor.
Boy.

SPectators we will act a Comedy

(non plus.
Stageke.

A poxon't this booke hath it not in it, you would be whipt, thou raskall: thou must be sitting vp all night at cards, when thou should be conning your part.

Boy.

It's all long on you, I could not get my part a night or two before that I might sleepe on it.

Stagekeeper carrieth the boy away vnder his arme.
Mo.

It's euen wel doone, hereis such a sturre about a scur­uie English show.

Defen.

Scuruie in thy face, thou scuruie Iack, if this company were not, you paultry Crittick Gentleman, you that knowe what it is to play at primero, or passage. You that haue beene student at post and payre, saint and Locadam. You that haue spent all your quarters reuenewes in riding post one night in Chrismas, beare with the weake memory of a gamster.

Mo.

Gentlemen, you that can play at noddy, or rather play vpon Noddies: you that can set vp a ieast, at primero insteed of a rest, laugh at the prologue that was taken away in a voy­der.

Defen.

What we present I must needs confesse is but slub­bered inuention: if your wisdome obscure the circumstance, your kindenesse will pardon the substance.

Mo.

What is presented here, is an old musty showe, that hath laine this twelfe-moneth in the bottome of a coale-house a­mongst broomes and old showes, an inuension that we are a­shamed of, and therfore we haue promised the Copies to the Chandlers to wrappe his candles in.

Defen.

It's but a Christenmas toy, and may it please your cur­tisies to let it passe.

Mom.

It [...]s a Christmas toy indeede, as good a conceite as slauging hotcockles, or blinde-man buffe.

Defen.

Some humors you shall see aymed at, if not well re­sembled.

Mom.

Humors indeede: is it not a pretty humor to stand hā­mering vpon two indiuidum vagum 2. schollers some whole yeare. These same Phil. and Studio: haue beene followed with a whip, and a verse like a Couple of Vagabonds through England and Italy. The Pilgrimage to Pernassus, and the re­turne from Pernassus haue stoode the honest Stagekeepers in many a Crownes expence: for linckes and vizardes purchas'd a Sophister a knock: which a clubbe hindred the buttlers box, and emptied the colledge barrells, and now vnlesse you know the subiect well you may returne home as wise as you came, for this last is the least parte of the returne from Pernassus, that is both the first & the last time that the Authors wit wil turne vpon the toe in this vaine, and at this time the scene is not at Pernassus, that is, lookes not good inuention in the face.

Defen.

If the Catastrophe please you not, impute it to the vnpleasing fortunes of discontented schollers.

Mom.

For Catastrophe ther's neuer a tale in Sir Iohn Man­deuil, or Beuis of Southampton but hath a better turning.

Stagekeeper.

What you ieering asse, begon with a pox.

Mom.

You may doe better to busy your selfe in proui­ding beere, for the shewe wil be pittifull drie, pittifull drie.

Exit.

No more of this, I heard the spectators aske for a blanke verse.

What we shew, is but a Christmas iest,
Conceiue of this and guesse of all the rest:
Full-like a schollers haplesse fortunes pen'd,
Whose former griefes seldome haue happy end.
Frame aswell, we might with easy straine,
With far more prayse, and with as little paine.
Storyes of loue, where forne the wondring bench,
The lisping gallant might enioy his wench.
[Page]
Or make some Sire acknowledge his lost sonne,
Found when the weary act is almost done.
Nor vnto this, nor vnto that our scene is bent,
We onely shew a schollers discontent.
In Scholers fortunes twise forlorne and dead
Twise hath our weary pen earst laboured.
Making them Pilgrims in Pernassus hill,
Then penning their returne with ruder quill.
Now we present vnto each pittying eye,
The schollers progres [...]e in their miserye.
Refined wits your patience is our blisse,
Too weake our scene: too great your iudgment is.
To you we seeke to shew a schollers state,
His scorned fortunes, his vnpittyed fate.
To you: for if you did not schollers blesse,
Their case (poore case) were too too pittilesse.
You shade the muses vnder fostering,
And make them leaue to sigh, and learne to sing.

The names of the Actors.

Dramatis Persona.
  • Ingenioso.
  • Iudicio.
  • Danter.
  • Philomusus.
  • Studioso.
  • Furor Poeticus.
  • Phantasma.
  • Patient.
  • Rhichardetto.
  • Theodore phisition.
  • Burgesse patient.
  • Iaques, studioso.
  • Academico.
  • Amorotto.
  • Page.
  • Signor Immerito.
  • Stercutio his father.
  • Sir frederick.
  • Recorder.
  • Page.
  • Prodigo.
  • Burbage.
  • Kempe.
  • Fidlers.
  • Patients man.

Actus 1. Scena 1.

Ingenioso, with Iuuenall in his hand.
Ingenioso.
DIfficile est, Satyram non scribere, nam quis iniquae
Tam patiens vrbis, tam furens vt teneat se?
I, Iuuenall: thy ierking hand is good,
Not gently laying on, but fetching bloud.
So surgean-like thou dost with cutting heale,
Where nought but lanching can the wound auayle.
O suffer me, among so many men,
To tread aright the traces of thy pen.
And light my linke at thy eternall flame,
Till with it I brand euerlasting shame,
On the world's forhead and with thine owne spirit,
Pay home the world according to his merit.
Thy purer soule could not endure to see,
Euen smallest spots of base impurity:
Nor could small faults escape thy cleaner hands,
Then foule faced Vice was in his swadling bands.
Now like Anteus growne a monster is,
A match for none but mighty Hercules.
Now can the world practise in playner guise,
Both sinnes of old and new borne villanyes.
Stale sinnes are stole: now doth the world begin
To take sole pleasure in a witty sinne.
Vnpleasant is the lawlesse sinne has bin,
At midnight rest, when darknesse couers sin.
It's Clownish vnbeseeming a young Knight,
Vnlesse it dare outface the gloring light.
Nor can it nought our gallants prayses reape,
Vnlesse'it be done in staring Cheape.
In a sinne-guilty Coach not cloasely pent,
Iogging along the harder pauement.
Did not feare check my repining sprit,
Soone should my angry ghost a story write.
[Page]
In which I would new fostred sinnes combine,
Not knowne earst by truth telling Aretine.

Scena 2.

Enter Iud
Ingenioso, Iudicio.
Iud.

What Ingenioso, carrying a Vinegar bottle about thee, like a great schole-boy giuing the world a bloudy nose?

Ing.

Faith Iudicio, if I carry the vineger bottle, it's great rea­son I should confer it vpon the bald pated world: and againe, if my kitchen want the vtensilies of viands, it's great reason o­ther men should haue the sauce of vineger, and for the bloudie nose, Iudicio, I may chance indeed giue the world a bloudy nose, but it shall hardly giue me a crakt crowne, though it giues other Poets french crownes.

Iud.

I would wish thee Ing. to sheath thy pen, for thou canst not be successefull in the fray, considering thy enemies haue the aduantage of the ground.

Ing.

Or rather Iud. they haue the grounds with aduantage, and the french crownes with a pox, and I would they had them with a plague too: but hang them swadds, the basest corner in my thoughts is too gallant a roome to lodge them in, but say Iudicio, what newes in your presse, did you keepe any late corrections vpon any tardy pamphlets?

Iud.

Veterem iubes renouare dolorem Ing. what ere befalls thee, keepe thee from the trade of the corrector of the presse.

Ing.

Mary so I will, I warrant thee, if pouerty presse not too much, Ile correct no presse but the presse of the people.

Iud.

Would it not grieue any good spirits to sit a whole moneth nitting out a lousy beggarly Pamphlet, and like a needy Phisitian to stand whole yeares, tossing and tumbling, the filth that falleth from so many draughty inuentions as day­ly swarme in our printing house?

Ing.

Come (I thinke) we shall haue you put finger in the eye and crie, O friends, no friends, say man what new paper hob­by horses, what rattle babies are come out in your late May morrice dounce?

Iud.

Sly my rimes as thick as flies in th [...]e sunne, I thinke [Page] there be neuer an alle house in England, not any so base a may pole on a country greene, but setts forth some poets petternels or demilaunces to the paper wa [...]res in Paules Church yard.

Ing.

And well too may the issue of a strong hop learne to hop all ouer England, when as better wittes sit like lame coblers in their studies. Such barmy heads wil alwaies be working, when as sad vineger witts sit souring at the bottome of a barrell: plaine Meteors, bred of the exhalation of Tobacco, and the vapors of a moyst pot, that soure vp into the open ayre, when as sounder wit keepes belowe.

Iud.

Considering the furyes of the times, I could better endure to se those young Can quaffing hucksters shoot of their pellets so they would keepe them from these English flores-poetarum, but now the world is come to that passe, that there starts vp euery day an old goose that sits hatching vp those eggs which haue ben filcht from the nest of Crowes and Kestrells: here is a booke Ing: why to condemne it to cleare the vsuall Tiburne of all missiuing papers, weare too faire a death for so foule an offender.

Ing.

What's the name of it, I pray thee Iud?

Iud.

Looke its here Beluedere.

Ing.

what a belwether in Paules Churchyeard, so cald be­cause it keeps a bleating, or because it hath the tinckling bel of so many Poets about the neck of it, what is the rest of the title.

Iud.

The garden of the Muses.

Ing.

What haue we here, the Poet garish gayly bedeket like fore horses of the parish? what follows.

Iud.
Quem referent musae, viuet dum roboratellus,
Dum caelum stellas, dum vehit amnis aquas.
Who blurres fayer paper, with foule bastard rimes,
Shall liue full many an age in latter times:
Who makes a ballet for an ale house doore,
Shall liue in future times for euer more.
Then ( [...]) thy muse shall liue so long,
As drafty ballats to thy praise are song.

But what's his deuise, Parnassus with the sunne and the lawrel: I wonder this owle dares looke on the sunne and I maruaill [Page] this gose flies not the lawrell: his deuise might haue bene bet­ter a foole going in to the market place to be seene, with this motto scribimus indocti, or a poore beggar gleaning of eares in the end of haruest, with this word, sua cui{que} gloria.

Iud.

Turne ouer the leafe Ing: and thou shalt see the paynes of this worthy gentleman, Sentences gathered out of all kind of Poetts, referred to certaine methodicall heades, profitable for the vse of these times, to rime vpon any occasion at a little warning: Read the names.

Ing.

So I will, if thou wilt helpe me to censure them.

  • Edmund Spencer.
  • Henry Constable.
  • Thomas Lodge.
  • Samuel Daniell.
  • Thomas Watson.
  • Michaell Drayton.
  • Iohn Dauis.
  • Iohn Marston.
  • Kit: Marlowe.

Good men and true; stand togither: heare your censure, what's thy iudgement of Spencer?

Iud.
A sweeter swan then euer song in Poe,
A shriller Nightingale then euer blest
The prouder groues of selfe admiring Rome.
Blith was each vally, and each sheapeard proud,
While he did chaunt his rurall minstralsye.
Attentiue was full many a dainty eare.
Nay hearers hong vpon his melting tong,
While sweetly of his Faiery Queene he song.
While to the waters fall he tun'd for fame,
And in each barke engrau'd Elizaes name.
And yet for all this, vnregarding soile
Vnlac't the line of his desired life,
Denying mayntenance for his deare releife.
Carelesse care to preuent his exequy,
Scarce deigning to shut vp his dying eye.
Ing.
Pitty it is that gentler witts should breed,
Where thickskin chuffes laugh at a schollers neede.
But softly may our honors ashes rest,
That lie by mery Chancers noble chest.
[Page]

But I pray thee proceede breefly in thy censure, that I may be proud of my selfe, as in the first, so in the last, my cen­sure may iumpe with thine. Henry Constable, Samuel Daniel, Thomas Lodg, Thomas Watson.

Iud.
Sweete Constable doth take the wondring eare,
And layes it vp in willing prisonment:
Sweete hony dropping Daniell doth wage
Warre with the proudest big Italian,
That melts his heart in sugred sonetting.
Onely let him more sparingly make vse,
Of others wit, and vse his owne the more:
That well may scorne base imitation.
For Lodge and Watson, men of some desert,
Yet subiect to a Critticks marginall.
Lodge for his oare in euery paper boate,
He that turnes ouer Galen euery day,
To sit and simper Euphues legacy.
Ing.

Michael Drayton.

Draytons sweete muse is like a sanguine dy,
Able to rauish the rash gazers eye.
Ing.

How euer he wants one true note of a Poet of our times, and that is this, hee cannot swagger it well in a Tauerne, nor dominere in a hothouse.

Iud.

Iohn Dauis.

Acute Iohn Dauis, I affect thy rymes,
That ierck in hidden charmes these looser times:
Thy playner verse, thy vnaffected vaine,
Is grac't with a fayre and a sooping traine.
Ing.

Locke and Hudson.

Iud.

Locke and Hudson, sleepe you quiet shauers, among the shauings of the presse, and let your bookes lie in some old nookes amongst old bootes and shooes, so you may auoyde my censure.

Ing.

Why then clap a locke on their feete, and turne them to commons.

Iohn Marston.

Iud.

What Monsier Kinsayder, lifting vp your legge and [Page] pissing against the world, put vp man, put vp for shame.

Me thinks he is a Ruffian in his stile,
Withouten bands or garters ornament,
He quaffes a cup of frenchmans Helicon.
Then royster doyster in his oylie tearmes,
Cutts, thrusts, and foines at whomesoeuer he meets.
And strewes about Ram-ally meditations,
Tut what cares he for modest close coucht termes,
Cleanly to gird our looser libertines.
Giue him plaine naked words stript from their shirts
That might beseeme plaine dealing Aretine:
I there is one that backes a paper steed
And manageth a pen-knife gallantly,
Strikes his poinado at a buttons breadth,
Brings the great battering ram of tearms to towns
And at first volly of his Cannon shot,
Batters the walles of the old fustie world.
Ing.

Christopher Marlowe.

Iud.
Marlowe was happy in his buskind muse,
Alas vnhappy in his life and end,
Pitty it is that wit so ill should dwell,
Wit lent from heauen, but vices sent from hell.
Ing.
Our Theater hath lost, Pluto hath got,
A Tragick penman for a driery plot.

Beniamin Iohnson.

Iud.

The wittiest fellow of a Bricklayer in England.

Ing.

A meere Empyrick, one that getts what he hath by ob­seruation, and makes onely nature priuy to what he endites, so slow an Inuentor, that he were better betake himselfe to his old trade of Bricklaying, a bould whorson, as confident now in making of a booke, as he was in times past in laying of a brick.

William Shatespeare.

Iud.
Who loues Adonis loue, or Lucre's rape,
His sweeter verse contaynes hart robbing life,
Could but a grauer subiect him content,
Without loues foolish lazy languishment.
Ing.

Churchyard.

Hath not Shor's wife although a light skirts she,
Giuen him a chast long lasting memory?
Iud.
No all light pamphlets once I finden shall,
A Churchyard and a graue to bury all.
Ing.

Thomas Nashdo.

I heare is a fellowe Iudicio that carryed the deadly stocke in his pen, whose muse was armed with a gagtooth, and his pen possest with Hercules furies.

Iud.
Let all his faultes sleepe with his mournfull chest,
And then for euer with his ashes rest.
His stile was wittie, though he had some gal,
Something he might haue mended; so may all.
Yet this I say, that for a mother witt,
Fewe men haue euer seene the like of it.
Ing.
Reades the rest.
Iud.

As for these, they haue some of them beene the old hedgstaket of the presse, and some of them are at this instant the botts and glanders of the printing house. Fellowes that stand onely vpon tearmes to serue the tearme, with their blot­ted papers, write as men goe to stoole, for needes, and when they write, they write as a Beare pisses, now and then drop a pamphlet.

Ing.

Durum telum necessitas. Good fayth they do as I do, ex­change words for mony, I haue some traffique this day with Danter, about a little booke which I haue made, the name of it is a Catalogue of Cambrige Cuckolds, but this Beluedere, this methodicall asse, hath made me almost forget my time: Ile now to Paules Churchyard meete me an houre hence, at the signe of the Pegasus in Cheap-side, and Ile moyst thy temples with a cuppe of Claret, as hard as the world goes.

Ex. Iudicio.

Actus 1. Scena 3.

Enter Danter the Printer.
Ing.

Danter thou art deceiued, wit is dearer then thou takest it to bee, I tell thee this libel of Cambridge has much fatt and pepper in the nose: it will sell sheerely vnderhand, when al [Page] these bookes of exhortations and Catechismes, lie moulding on thy shopbourd.

Dan.

It's true, but good fayth M. Ingenioso, I lost by your last booke, and you knowe there is many a one that payes me largely, for the printing of their inuentions, but for all this you shall haue 40. shillings and an odde pottle of wine.

Ing.

40. Shillings? a fit reward for one of your reumatick poets, that beslauers all the paper he comes by, and furnishes the Chaundlers with wast papers to wrap candles in: but as for me, Ile be payd deare euen for the dreggs of my wit: little knowes the worlde what belong to the keeping of a good wit in waters, dietts, drinckes, Tobacco, &c. it is a daynty and costly creature, and therefore I must be payd sweetly: fur­nish mee with mony, that I may put my selfe in a new sute of clothes, and Ile suite thy shop with a new suite of tearmes: it's the gallantest Child my inuention was euer deliuered off. The title is, a Chronicle of Cambrige Cuckolds: here a man may see what day of the moneth such a mans commons were inclo­sed, and when throwne open, and when any entayled some odde crownes, vpon the heires of their bodies vnlawfully be­gotten: speake quickly ells I am gone.

Dan.

Oh this will sell gallantly: Ile haue it whatsoeuer it cost, will you walke on M. Ingenioso, weele fit ouer a cup of wine and agree on it.

Ing.

A cup of wine is as good a Constable as can be, to take vp the quarrell betwixt vs.

Exeunt.

Actus 1. scena 4.

Philomusus in a Phisitions habit: Sudi­oso that is Iaques man, And patient.
Phil.

Tit tit tit, non poynte, non debet fieri phlebetomotio in coitu Lunae: here is a Recîpe.

Pat.

A Recîpe.

Phil.

Nos Gallia non Curamus quantitatem syllabarum: Let me heare how many stooles you doe make. Adeiu mounseir, adeiu good mounseir, what Iaques Il n' a personne apres icy.

Stud.

Non.

Phil.
Then let vs steale time for this borrowed shape,
Recounting our vnequall happs of late.
Late did the Ocean graspe vs in his armes,
Late did we liue within a stranger ayre:
Late did we see the cinders of great Rome
We thought that English fugitiues there eate
Gold, for restoratiue, if gold were meate.
Yet now we finde by bought experience,
That where so ere we wander vp and downe,
On the rounde shoulders of this masly world,
Or our ill fortunes, or the worldes ill eye
Forspeake our good, procures our miserye.
Stud.
So oft the Northen winde with frozen wings,
Hath beate the flowers that in one garden grewe:
Throwne downe the stalkes of our aspiring youth,
So oft hath winter nipt our trees faire rinde,
That now we seeme nought but two bared boughes,
Scorned by the basest bird that chirps in groaue.
Nor Rome, nor Rhemes that wonted ar to giue,
A Cardinall cap, to discontented clarkes,
That haue forsooke the home-bred thanked roofes,
Yeelded vs any equal maintenance:
And it's as good to starue mongst English swine,
As in a forraine land to begge and pine:
Phil.
Ile scorne the world that scorneth me againe.
Stud.
Ile vex the world that workes me so much paine.
Phil.
Fly lame reuengings power, the world well weenes.
Stud.
Flyes haue there spleene, each sylly ant his teenes.
Phil.
We haue the wordes they the possession haue.
Stud.
We all are equall in our latest graue.
Phil.
Soone then: O soone may we both graued be.
Stud.
Who wishes death, doth wrong wise destinie,
Phil.
It's wrong to force life, loathing men to breath.
Stud.
It's sinne for doomed day to wish thy death.
Phil.
Too late our soules flit to their resting place.
Stud.
Why mans whole life is but a breathing space.
Phil.
A painefull minute seemes a tedious yeare.
Stud.
A constant minde eternall woes will beare.
Phil.
When shall our soules their wearied lodge forgoe?
Stud.
When we haue tyred misery and woe.
Phil.
Soone may then fates this gale deliuer send vs.
Small woes vex long great woes quickly end vs.

But letts leaue this capping of times Studioso, and follow our late deuise, that wee may maintaine our heads in cappes our bellyes in prouender, and our backs in sadle and bridle: hetherto wee haue sought all the honest meanes we could to liue, & now let vs dare, aliquid breuibus gracis and carcere dig­num: let vs run through all the lewd formes of lime-twig pur­loyning villanyes, let vs proue Cony catchers Baudes, or any thing, so we may rub-out, and first my plot for playing the french Doctor that shall hold: our lodging stand here filthy in shooe lane, for if our commings in be not the better, Lon­don may shortely throw an old shooe after vs, and with those shredds of French, that we gathered vp in our hostes house in Paris, wee'l gull the world, that hath in estimation forraine Phisitians, & if any of the hidebound bretheren of Cambridge and Oxforde, or any of those Stigmatick maisters of arte, that abused vs in times past, leaue their owne Phisitians, and be­came our patients, wee'l alter quite the stile of them, for they shal neuer hereafter write, your Lordships most bounden: but your Lordships most laxatiue.

Stud.

It shalbe so, see what a little verimine pouerty altereth a whole milky disposition.

Phil.
So then my selfe streight with reuenge Ile Seate,
Stud.
Prouoked patience growes intemperate.

Actus 1. Scena 5.

Enter Richardetto, Iaques, Scholler learning french.
Iaq.

How now my little knaue, quelle nouelle mounseir.

Richar.

Ther's a fellow with a night cap on his head, an vri­nal in his hand, would fayne speake with master Theodore.

Iaq.

Parle Francoyes moun petit' garsoun.

Richard.

Hy a vn homme aue le bonnet de [...] La teste [Page] et vn vrinell in la mens, que veut parter, [...] Theodore

Iaq.

Foc beieu.

Theod.

Iaques a bonus.

Exeunt

Actus. 1. Scen. 6.

Furor poeticus: and presently after enters Phantasma.
Furor poeticus rapt within contemplation.

Why how now Pedant Phebus, are you smoutching Thalia on her tender lips? There hoie: pesant avant: come Pretty short­nosd nimph: oh sweet Thalia, I do kisse thy foote. What Cleio? O sweet Cleio, nay pray thee do not weepe Melpomene. What Vrania, Polimnia, and Calliope, let me doe reuerence to your deities.

Phantasma puls him by the sleeue.
Fur.
I am your holy swayne, that night and day,
Sit for your sakes rubbing my wrinkled browe,
Studying a moneth for on Epithete.
Nay siluer Cinthia, do not trouble me:
Straight will I thy Endimions storye write,
To which thou hastest me on day and night.
You light skirt starres, this is your wonted guise,
By glomy light perke out your doutfull heades:
But when Don Phebus showes his flashing snout,
You are sky puppies, streight your light is out.
Phan.

So ho, Furor.

Nay prethee good Furor in sober sadnes,

Furor.
Odi profanum vulgus et arceo.
Phan.

Nay sweet Furor, ipsae te Tytire pinus,

Furor.
Ipsi te fontes, ipsa haec arbusta vocarunt.
Who's that runs headlong on my quills sharpe poynt.
That wearyed of his life and baser breath,
Offers himselfe to an Iambicke verse.
Phant.
Si quoties peccant homines, sua fulmina mittat
Iupiter, exiguo tempore inermis erit.
Fur.
What slimye bold presumtious groome is he,
Dares with his rude audacious hardye chatt,
Thus seuer me from skibbered contemplation?
Phant.
Carmina vel caelo possunt deducere lunam.
Furor.

Oh Phantasma: what my indiuiduall mate?

O mihi post nullos Furor memorande sodales,
Furor.
Say whence comest thou? sent from what deytye?
From great Apollo or sly Mercurye.
Phan.

I come from the litle Mercury, Ingenioso, For,

Ingenio pollet cui vim natura negauit.
Furor.

Ingenioso?

He is a pretty inuenter of slight prose:

But there's no spirit in his groaueling speach,
Hang him whose verse can not out-belch the wind:
That cannot beard and braue Don Eolus,
That when the cloude of his inuention breakes,
Cannot out-cracke the scarr-crow thunderbolt.
Phan.

Hang him, I say, Pendo pependi, tendo tetendi, pedo pe­pedi. Will it please you maister Furor, to walke with me. I pro­mised to bring you to a drinking Inne, in Cheapside at the signe of the nagges heade. For,

Tempore lenta pati fraena docentur equi.
Furor.

Passe the before, Ile come incontinent.

Phan.

Nay faith maister Furor, letts go togither, Quoniam Conuenimus ambo.

Furor.

Letts march on vnto the house of fame:

There quaffing bowles of Bacchus blood ful nimbly,
Endite a Tiptoe, strouting poesy.
They offer the way one to the other.
Phan.
Quo me Bacche rapis tui plenum.
Tu maior: tibi me est aequum parere Menalca.

Act. secundus: Scena. 3.

Enter Philom. Theod. his patient the Burgesse, and his man with his state.
Theod. putts on his spectacles.

Mounseiur here are atomi Natantes, which do make shew your worship to be as leacherous as a bull.

Burg.

Truely maister Doctor we are all men.

Theod.

This vater is intention of heate, are you not pertur­bed with an ake in your race, or in your occiput. I meane your head peece, let me feele the pulse of your little finger.

Burg.

Ile assure you M. Theodour, the pulse of my head beates exceedingly, and I thinke I haue disturbed my selfe by [Page] studying the penall statutes.

Theod.

Tit, tit, your worship takes cares of your speeches. O, courae leues loquuntur, ingentes stoupent, it is an Aphorisme in Galen.

Burg.

And what is the exposition of that?

Theod.

That your worship must take a gland, vt emittatur sanguis: the signe is for execellent, for excellent.

Burg.

Good maister Doctor vse mee gently, for marke you Sir, there is a double consideration to be had of me: first as I am a publike magistrate, secondly as I am a priuate but­cher: and but for the worshipfull credit of the place, and office wherein I now stand and liue, I would not hazard my wor­shipfull apparell, with a suppositor or a glister: but for the countenancing of the place, I must go oftener to stoole, for as a great gentleman told me of good experience, that it was the chiefe note of a magistrate, not to go to the stoole without a phisition.

Theo.

A, vous ettes vn gentell home vraiment, what ho Iaques, Iaques, dou e vous? vn fort gentel purgation for monsier Burgesse.

Iaq.

Voste tres humble seruiture a vostre commandement.

Theod.

Donne vous vn gentell purge a Monsier Burgesse. I haue considered of the crasis, and syntoma of your disease, and here is vn fort gentell purgation per euacuationem excremen­torum, as we Phisitions vse to parlee.

Burg.

I hope maister Doctor you haue a care of the coun­tryes officer, I tell you I durst not haue trusted my selfe with euery phisition, and yet I am not afraide for my selfe, but I would not depriue the towne of so carefull a magistrate.

Theod.

O monsier, I haue a singular care of your valetudo, it is requisite that the French Phisitions be learned and care­full, your English veluet cap is malignant and enuious.

Burg.

Here is maister Doctor foure pence your due, and eight pence my bounty, you shall heare from me good maister Doctor, farewell farewell, good maister Doctor.

Theod.
Adieu good Mounsier, adieu good Sir moun [...]ier.
Then burst with teares vnhappy graduate:
Thy fortunes still wayward and backward bin:
[Page]
Nor canst thou thriue by vertue, nor by sin.
Stud.
Oh how it greeues my vexed soule to see,
Each painted asse in chayre of dignitye:
And yet we grouell on the ground alone,
Running through euery trade, yet thriue by none.
More we must acte in this liues Tragedy▪
Phi.
Sad is the plott, sad the Catastrophe.
Stud.
Sighs are the Chorus in our Tragedy,
Phil.
And rented thoughts continuall actors bee.
Stud.
Woe is the subiect:
Phil.
earth the loathed stage,
Whereon we act this fained personage.
Mosly
most like
barbarians the spectators be,
That sit and laugh at our calamity.
Phil.
Band be those houres when mongst the learned throng
By Grantaes muddy bancke we whilome song,
Stud.
Band be that hill which learned witts adore,
Where earst we spent our stock and little store:
Phi.
Band be those musty mewes, where we haue spent,
Our youthfull daies in paled langushment.
Stud.
Band be those cosening arts that wrought our woe,
Making vs wandring Pilgrimes to and fro.
Phil.
And Pilgrimes must we be without reliefe,
And wheresoeuer we ruir there meets vs greefe.
Stud.
Where euer we tosse vpon this crabbed stage
Griefe's our companion, patience be our page.
Phil.
Ah but this patience is a page of ruth,
A tired Lacky to our wandering youth.

Actus. 2. Scena. 2.

Academico solus.
Acad.

Faine wold I haue a liuing, if I could tel how to come by it.

Eccho.

Buy it.

Buy it fond Ecc? why thou dost greatly mistake it.

Ecc.

stake it.

Stake it? what should I stake at this game of simony?

Ecc:

mony

What is the world a game, are liuings gotten by playing?

Eccho.

Paying.

[Page]

Paying? but say what's the nearest way to come by a liuing?

Eccho.

Giuine.

Must his worships fists bee needs then oyled with Angells?

Eccho.

Angels.

Ought his gowty fists then first with gold to be greased?

Eccho.

Eased.

And is it then such an ease for his asses backe to cary mony?

Eccho.

I.

Will then this golden asse bestowe a vicarige guilded?

Eccho.

Gelded.

What shall I say to good Sir Roderick that haue gold here?

Eccho.

Cold cheare.

Ile make it my lone request, that he wold be good to a scholler.

Eccho,

Choller,

Yea, will hee be cholerike, to heare of an art or a science?

Eccho,

hence.

Hence with liberal arts, what then wil he do with his chancel?

Echo,

sell.

Sell it? and must a simple clark be fayne to compound then?

Eccho.

pounds then.

What if I haue no pounds, must then my sute be proroagued?

Eccho.

Roagued.

Yea? giuen to a Roague? shall an asse this vicaridge compasse?

Eccho,

Asse.

What is the reason that I should not be as fortunate as hee?

Eccho.

Asse he.

Yet for al this, with a penilesse purse wil I trudg to his worship

Eccho.

words cheape.

Wel, if he giue me good words, it's more thē I haue from an Ec­cho.

Ecch.

goe.

Actus. 2. Scena. 3.

Amoretto with an Ouid in his hand. Immerito.
Amoret.

Take it on the word of a gentleman, thou cannot haue it a penny vnder, thinke out, thinke on it, while I medi­tate on my fayre mistres.

[Page]
Nunc sequor imperium magne Cupido tuum.
What ere become of this dull thredbare clearke,
I must be costly in my mistresses eye:
Ladyes regard not ragged company.
I will with the reuenewes of my chafred church,
First buy an ambling hobby for my fayre:
Whose measured pace may teach the world to dance,
Proud of his burden when he gins to praunce:
Then must I buy a iewell for her eare,
A Kirtle of some hundred crownes or more:
With these fayre giftes when I accompanied goe,
Sheele giue Ioues breakfast: Sidny tearmes it so.
I am her needle: she is my Adamant,
She is my fayre Rose, I her vnworthy pricke.
Acad.

Is there no body heere will take the paines to geld his mouth?

Amor.
Sh's Cleopatra, I Marke Anthony,
Acad.

No thou art a meere marke for good witts to shoote at: and in that suite thou wilt make a fine man to dash poore crowes out of countenance.

Amor.
She is my Moone, I her Endimion,
Acad.

No she is thy shoulder of mutton, thou her onyon: or she may be thy Luna, and thou her Lunaticke.

Amo.
I her Aeneas, she my Dido is.
Acad.
She is thy Io, thou her brasen asse,
Or she Dame Phantasy and thou her gull:
She thy Pasiphae, and thou her louing bull.

Actus. 2. Scena. 4.

Enter Immerito, and Stercutio his father,
Ster.

Sonne, is this the gentleman that sells vs the liuing?

Im.

Fy father, thou must not call it selling, thou must say is this the gentleman that must haue the gratuito?

Acad.

What haue we heere, old trupenny come to towne, to fetch away the liuing in his old greasy slops, then Ile none: the time hath beene when such a fellowe medled with nothing [Page] but his plowshare, his spade, and his hobnayles, and so to a peece of bread and cheefe, and went his way: but now these fellowes are growne the onely factors for preferment.

Ster.

O is this the grating gentleman, and how many pounds must I pay?

Im.

O thou must not call them pounds, but thanks, and harke thou father, thou must tell of nothing that is done: for I must seeme to come cleere to it.

Acad.

Not pounds but thanks: see whether this simple fellow that hath nothing of a scholler, but that the draper hath blackt him ouer, hath not gotten the stile of the time.

Ster.

By my fayth sonne looke for no more portion.

Im.

Well father, I will not, vpon this condition, that when thou haue gotten me the gratuito of the liuing, thou will like­wise disburse a little mony to the bishops poser, for there are certaine questions I make scruple to be posed in.

Acad.

He meanes any question in Lattin, which he counts a scruple, oh this honest man could neuer abide this popish tounge of Latine, oh he is as true an English man as liues.

Ster.

Ile take the gentleman now, he is in a good vayne, for he smiles.

Amor.

Sweete Ouid, I do honour euery page.

Acad.

Good Ouid that in his life time, liued with the Getes, and now after his death conuerseth with a Barbarian.

Ster.

God bee at your worke Sir: my Sonne told me you were the grating gentleman, I am Stercutio his father Sir, simple as I stand here.

Acad.

Fellow, I had rather giuen thee an hundred pounds, then thou should haue put me out of my excellent meditation, by the faith of a gentleman I was rapt in contemplation.

Im.

Sir you must pardon my father, he wants bringing vp.

Acad.

Marry it seemes he hath good bringing vp, when he brings vp so much mony.

Ster.

Indeede Sir, you must pardon me, I did not knowe you were a gentleman of the Temple before.

Amor.

Well I am content in a generous disposition to beare with country education, but fellow whats thy name?

Ster.

My name Sir, Stercutio Sir.

Why then Stercutio, I would be very willing to be the instru­ment to my father, that this liuing might be conserted vpon your sonne: mary I would haue you know, that I haue bene importuned by two or three seueral Lordes, my Kinde cozins, in the behalfe of some Cambridge man: and haue almost enga­ged my word. Mary if I shall see your disposition to be more thankfull then other men, I shalbe very ready to respect kind natur'd men: for as the Italian prouerbe speaketh wel, Chi ha haura.

Acad.

why here is a gallant young drouer of liuings.

Ster.

I beseech you sir speake English, for that is naturall to me & to my sonne, and all our kindred, to vnderstand but one language.

Amor.

Why thus in plaine english: I must be respected with thanks.

Acad.

This is a subtle tractiue, when thanks may be felt and seene.

Ster.

And I pray you Sir, what is the lowest thanks that you will take?

Acad.

The verye same Method that he vseth at the buying of an oxe.

Amor.

I must haue some odd sprinckling of an hundred pounds, if so, so, I shall thinke you thankfull, and command your sonne as a man of good giftes to my father.

Acad.

A sweete world, giue an hundred poundes, and this is but counted thankfullnesse.

Ster.

Harke thou Sir, you shall haue 80. thankes.

Amor.

I tell thee fellow, I neuer opened my mouth in this kind so cheape before in my life. I tel thee, few young Gentle­men are found that would deale so kindely with thee as I doe.

Ster.

Well Sir, because I know my sonne to be a toward thing and one that hath taken all his learning on his owne head, without sending to the vniuersitye, I am content to giue you as many thankes as you aske, so you will promise me to bring it to passe.

Amor.

I warrant you for that: if I say it once, repayre you to the place, and stay there, for my father, he is walked abroad to [Page] take the benefit of the ayre. Ile meete him as he returnes, and make way for your suite.

Exeunt Ster. Im.

Act. 2. Scen. 5.

Enter Academico. Amoretto.
Amor.

Gallant, I faith.

Acad.

I see we schollers fish for a liuing in these shallow foardes without a siluer hoock. Why, wold it not gal a man to see a spruse gartered youth, of our Colledge a while ago, be a broker for a liuing, & an old Baude for a benefice? This sweete Sir profered me much kindenesse when hee was of our Col­ledge, and now Ile try what winde remaynes in his bladder. God saue you Sir.

Amor.

By the masse I feare me I saw this Genus & Species in Cambridge before now: Ile take no notice of him now: by the faith of a gentleman this is pretty Ellegy. Of what age is the day fellow? Syrrha boy, hath the groome saddled my hun­ting hobby? can Robin hunter tel where a hare sits.

Acad.

See a poore old friend of yours, of S. [...] Colledge in Cambridge.

Am.

Good fayth Sir you must pardon me. I haue forgotten you.

Acad.

My name is Academico Sir, one that made an ora­tion for you once on the Queenes day, and a show that you got some credit by.

Amor.

It may be so, it may bee so, but I haue forgotten it: marry yet I remember there was such a fellow that I was very beneficiall vnto in my time. But howsoeuer Sir, I haue the cur­tesie of the towne for you. I am sory you did not take me at my fathers house: but now I am in exceding great hast, for I haue vowed the death of a hare that wee found this morning musing on her meaze.

Acad.

Sir I am imboldned, by that great acquaintance that [Page] heretofore I had with you, as likewise it hath pleased you heretofore.

Amor.

Looke syrrha, if you see my Hobby come hether­ward as yet.

Acad.

To make me some promises, I am to request your good mediation to the Worshipfull your father, in my be­halfe: and I will dedicate to your selfe in the way of thankes, those dayes I haue to liue

Amor.

O good Sir, if I had knowne your minde before, for my father hath already giuen the induction to a Chap­dame of his owne, to a proper man, I know not of what Vni­uersitie he is.

Acad.

Signior Immerito, they say, hath bidden fayrest for it.

Amor.

I know not his name, but hee is a graue discreete man I warrant him, indeede hee wants vtterance in some measure.

Acad.

Nay, me thinkes he hath very good vtterance, for his grauitie, for hee came hether very graue, but I thinke he will returne light enough, when he is ridde of the heauy ele­ment he carries about him.

Amor.

Faith Sir, you must pardon mee, it is my ordinarie custome to be too studious, my Mistresse hath tolde me of it often, and I finde it to hurt my ordinary discourse: but say sweete Sir, do yee effect the most gentle-man-like game of hunting.

Acad.

How say you to the crafty gull, hee would faine get mee abroad to make sport with mee in their Hunters termes, which we schollers are not acquainted with: sir I haue loned this kinde of sporte, but now I begin to hate it, for it hath beene my luck alwayes to beat the bush, while an­other kild the Hare.

Amor.

Hunters luck, Hunters luck Sir, but there was a fault in your Hounds that did spend well.

Acad.

Sir I haue had worse luck alwayes at hunting the Fox.

Am.

What sir do you meane at the vnkennelling, vntape­zing, or earthing of the Fox.

Acad.

I meane earthing, if you terme it so, for I neuer found yellow earth enough to couer the old Fox your father.

Amor.

Good faith sir, there is an excellent skill in blowing for the terriers, it is a word that we hunters vse when the Fox is earthed, you must blow one long, two short, the second winde one long two short: now sir in blowing, euery long containeth 7. quauers, one short containeth 3. quauers.

Acad.

Sir might I finde any fauour in my sute, I would wind the horne wherein your boone deserts should be sounded with so many minims, so many quauers.

Amor.

Sweet sir, I would I could conferre this or any kind­nesse vpon you: I wonder the boy comes not away with my Hobby. Now sir, as I was proceeding: when you blow th [...] death of your Fox in the field or couert, then must you sound 3. notes, with 3. windes, and recheat: marke you sir, vpon the same with 3. windes.

Acad.

I pray you sir.

Amor.

Now sir, when you come to your stately gate, as you sounded the recheat before, so now you must sound the releefe three times.

Acad.

Releefe call you it? it were good euery patron would finde the horne.

Amor.

O sir, but your reliefe is your sweetest note, that is sir, when your hounds hunt after a game vnknowne, and then you must sound one long and six short, the second wind, two short and one long, the third wind, one long & two short.

Acad.

True sir, it is a very good trade now a dayes to be a villaine, I am the hound that hunts after a game vnknowne, & blowes the villaine.

Amor.

Sir, I will blesse your eares with a very pretty story, my father out of his owne cost and charges keepes an open table for all kinde of dogges.

Acad.

And he keepes one more by thee.

Amor.

He hath your Grey-hound, your Mungrell, your Mastife, your Leurier, your Spaniell, your Kennets, Terriers, Butchers dogs, Bloud-hounds, Dunghill dogges, trindle tailes, prick-eard curres, small Ladies puppies, Caches and Bastards.

Acad.

What a bawdy knaue hath he to his father, that keepes his Rachell, hath his bastards, and lets his sonnes be plaine Ladies puppets, to beray a Ladies Chamber.

Amor.

It was my pleasure two dayes ago, to take a gallant leash of Grey-hounds, and into my fathers Parke I went, ac­companied with two or three Noble men of my neere ac­quaintance, desiring to shew them some of the sport: I causd the Keeper to seuer the rascall Deere, from the Bucks of the first head: now sir, a Bucke the first yeare is a Fawne, the se­cond yeare a pricket, the third yeare a Sorell, the fourth yeare a Soare, the fift a Buck of the first head, the sixt yeare a com­pleat Buck: as likewise your Hart is the first yeare a Calfe, the second yeare a Brochet, the third yeare a Spade, the fourth yeare a Stagge, the fift yeare a great Stag, the sixt yeare a Hart: as likewise the Roa-bucke is the first yeare a Kid, the se­cond yeare a Girle, the third yeare a Hemuse: and these are your speciall beasts for chase, or as wee Huntsmen call it, for venery.

Acad.

If chaste be taken for venery, thou art a more speciall beast then any in thy fathers forrest. Sir I am sorry I haue been so troublesome to you.

Am.

I know this was the readiest way to chase away the Scholler, by getting him into a subiect he cannot talke of, for his life. Sir I will borrow so much time of you as to finish this my begun storie. Now sir, after much trauell we singled a Buck, I rode that same time vpon a Roane gelding, and stood to intercept from the thicket: the Buck broke gallantly: my great Swift being disaduantaged in his slip was at the first be­hinde, marry presently coted and out-stript them, when as the Hart presently discended to the Riuer, and being in the water, proferd, and reproferd, and proferd againe: and at last he vp­started at the other side of the water which we call soyle of the Hart, and there other Huntsmen met him with an adaun­treley: we followed in hard chase for the space of eight houres, thrise our hounds were at default, and then we cryed a slaine, streight so ho: through good reclaiming my faulty hounds found their game againe, and so went through the wood with [Page] gallant noice of musicke, resembling so many Violls Degam­bo: at last the Hart laid him downe, and the Hounds seized vpon him, he groned, and wept, and dyed. In good faith it made me weepe too, to thinke of Acteons fortune, which my Ouid speakes of.

He reades Ouid.
Militat omnis amans, & habet sua castra Cupido.
Acad.

Sir, can you put me in any hope of obtayning my sute.

Amor.

In good faith Sir, if I did not loue you as my soule, I would not make you acquainted with the mysteries of my Art.

Acad.

Naye, I will not dye of a discourse yet, if I can choose.

Amor.

So sir, when we had rewarded our Dogges with the small guttes and the lights, and the bloud: the Huntsmen hal­lowed, So ho, Ʋenus a coupler, and so coupled the Dogges, and then returned homeward: another company of Houndes that lay at aduantage, had their couples cast off and we might heare the Huntsmen cry, horse, decouple, Auant, but streight we hearde him cry, le Amond, and by that I knewe that they had the hare and on foote, and by and by I might see sore and resore, prick, and reprick: what is he gone? ha ha ha ha, these schollers are the simplest creatures.

Actus 2. Scen. 6.

Enter Amoretto and his Page.
Page.

I wonder what is become of that Ouid de arte amandi, my maister he that for the practise of his discourse is wonte to court his hobby abroad and at home, in his chamber makes a sett speech to his greyhound, desiring that most fayre and amiable dog to grace his company in a stately galliard, and if the dog, seeing him practise his lusty pointes, as his crospoint backcaper, chance to beray the roome, he presently doffes his Cap, most solemnly makes a low-leg to his Lady Ship, taking it for the greatest fauour in the world, that shee would vouchsafe to leaue her Ciuet box, or her sweete gloue behind her.

Amor.

He opens Ouid and reads it.

Page.

Not a word more Sir, an't please you, your Hobby will meete you at the lanes end.

Am.

What Iack, faith I cannot but vent vnto thee a most witty iest of mine.

Page.

I hope my maister will not breake winde: wilt please you sir to blesie mine eares with the discourse of it.

Am.

Good faith, the boy begins to haue an elegant smack of my stile: why then thus it was Iack: a scuruie meere Cam­bridge scholler, I know not how to desine him.

Page.

Nay maister, let mee define a meere Scholler, I heard a Courtier once desine a meere scholler, to bee ani­mal scabiosum, that is, a liuing creature that is troubled with the itch: or a meere scholler, is a creature that can strike fire in the morning at his Tinder-box, put on a paire of lined slippers, sit rewming till dinner, and then go to his meate when the Bell rings, one that hath a peculiar gift in a cough, and a licence to spit: or if you will haue him defined by ne­gatines. He is one that cannot make a good legge, one that cannot eate a messe of broth cleanly, one that cannot ride a horse without spur-galling: one that cannot salute a woman, and looke on her directly, one that cannot —

Am.

Inough Iacke, I can stay no longer, I am so great in child-birth with this iest: Sirrha, this praedicable, this saucy groome, because when I was in Cambridge, and lay in a Trundlebed vnder my Tutor, I was content in discreet hu­militie, to giue him some place at the Table, and because I inuited the hungrie slaue sometimes to my Chamber, to the canuasing of a Turkie Pye, or a piece of Venison, which my Lady Grand-mother sent me, he thought himselfe therefore eternally possest of my loue, and came hither to take ac­quaintance of me, and thought his old familiaritie did con­tinue, and would beare him out in a matter of weight. I could not tell how to rid my selfe better of the troublesome Burre, then by getting him into the discourse of Hunting, and then tormenting him awhile with our wordes of Arte, the poore Scorpion became speechelesse, and suddenly rauished. These [Page] Clearkes are simple fellowes, simple [...]ellowes.

He reads Ouid.
Page.

Simple indeed they are, for they want your courtly composition of a foole and of a knaue. Good faith fir a most absolute iest, but me thinkes it might haue beene followed a little farther.

Am.

A [...] how my little knaue.

Page.

Why thus Sir, had you inuited him to dinner at your table, and haue put the caruing of a Capon vpon him, you should haue seene him handle the knife so foolishly, then run through a iury of faces, then wagging his head, & shewing his teeth in familiaritie, venter vpon it with the same method that he was wont to vntrusse an Apple pie, or tyrannise an Egge and Butter then would I had applied him all dinner time with cleane trenchers, cleane trenchers, & still when he had a good bit of meate, I would haue taken it from him, by giuing him a cleane Trencher, and so haue serued him in kindnesse.

Am.

Well said subtle Iack, put me in minde when I returne againe, that I may make my Lady Mother laugh at the Schol­ler. Ile to my game: for you Iacke, I would haue you imploy your time till my comming, in watching what houre of the day my Hawke mutes.

Exit.
Page.

Is not this an excellent office to be Apothe carie to his worships hawke, to sit scouting on the wall, how the Phi­sicke workes, and is not my maister an absolute villaine, that loues his Hawke hîs Hobby, and his Grey-hound, more then any mortall creature: do but dispraise a feather of his hawkes traine, and he writhes his mouth, and sweares, for he can doe that onely with a good grace, that you are the most shallow braind fellow that liues: do but say his horse stales with a good presence, and hee's your bond-slaue: when he returnes Ile tell twentie admirable lyes of his hawke, and then I shall be his little rogue & his white villaine for a whole weeke after. Well let others complaine, but I thinke there is no felicitie to the ser­uing of a foole.

Act. 3. Scen. 1.

Sir Rad. Recorder. Page. Sig. Immerito.
S. Rad.

Signior Immenito, you remember my caution, for [Page] the tithes, & my promise for farming my tithes at such a rate.

Im.

I, and please your worship Sir.

Sir Rad.

You must put in security for the performance of it in such sorte as I and maister Recorder shall like of.

Im,

I will an't please your worship.

S. Rad.

And because I will be sure that I haue conferred this kindenesse vpon a sufficient man, I haue desired maister Recorder to take examination of you.

Pag.

My maister (it seemes) tak's him for a thiefe, but he hath small reason for it, as for learning it's plaine he neuer stole any, and for the liuing he knowes himselfe how he comes by it, for lett him but eate a measse of furmenty this seauen yeare, and yet he shall neuer be able to recouer himselfe: alas poore sheepe that hath fallen into the hands of such a fox.

S. Rad.

Good maister Recorder take your place by me, and make tryall of his gifts, is the clerke there to record his ex­amination, oh the Page shall serue the turne.

Pag.

Tryal of his gifts, neuer had any gifts a better tryal, why Immerito his gifts haue appeared in as many coloures, as the Rayn-bowe, first to maister Amoretto in colour of the sattine suite he weares: to my Lady in the similitude of a loose gowne: to my maister, in the likenesse of a siluer basen, and ewer: to vs Pages in the semblance of new suites and poyntes. So maister Amoretto playes the gul in a piece of a parsonage: my maister adornes his cuppoord with a piece of a parsonage, my mistres vpon good dayes, puts on a piece of a parsonage, and we Pa­ges playe at blowe pointe for a piece of a parsonage, I thinke heer's tryall inough for one mans gifts.

Reco.

For as much as nature hath done her part in making you a hansome likely man.

Pag

He is a hansome young man indeed, and hath a pro­per gelded parsonage.

Reco.

In the next place, some art is requisite for the per­fection of nature: for the tryall whereof, at the request of my worshipfull friend, I will in some sorte propound questions fitt to be resolued by one of your profession, say what is a per­son that was neuer at the vniuersity.

Im.

A person that was neuer in the [...]niuerfity, is a liuing creature that can eate a tithe pigge.

Rec.

Very well answerd, but you should haue added, and must be officious to his patrone: write downe that answer to shew his learning in logick.

Sir Rad.

Yea boy write that downe. Very learnedly in good faith, I pray now let me aske you one question that I remem­ber, whether is the Masculine gender or the seminine more worthy?

Im.

The Feminine sir.

Sir Rad.

The right answer, the right answer. In good faith I haue beene of that mind alwayes, write boy that, to shew hee is a Grammarian.

Pag.

No maruell my maister be against the Grammer, for he hath alwayes made faise latine in the Genders.

Rec.

What Vniuersity are you of?

Im.

Of none.

Sir. Rad.

He tells trueth, to tell trueth is an excellent vertue, Boy make two heads, one for his learning another for his ver­tues, and referre this to the head of his vertues, not of his learning.

Pag.

What, halfe a messe of good qualities referred to an asse head?

Sir Rad.

Nowe maister Recorder, if it please you I will examine him in an author, that will sound him to the depth, a booke of Astronomy otherwise called an Alma­nacke.

Rec.

Very good, Sir Raderike, it were to be wished that there were no other booke of humanity, then there would not bee such busie state-prying fellowes as are now a dayes, proceede good sir.

Sir. Rad.

What is the Dominicall letter?

Im.

C, sir, and please your worship.

Sir Rad.

A very good answer, a very good answer, the very answer of the booke, write downe that and referre it to his skill in philosophy.

Pag.

C, the Dominicall letter: it is true, craft and cunning do [Page] so dominere: yet rather C and D, are dominicall letters, that is crafty Dunsery.

S. Rad.

How many daies hath September?

Im.

Aprill, Iune and Nouember, February hath 28. alone and all the rest hath 30. and one.

S. Rad.

Very learnedly in good faith, he hath also a smacke in poetry, write downe that boy, to shew his learning in po­etry.

How many miles from Waltham to London?

Im.

Twelue Sir.

S. Rad.

How many from Newmarket to Grantham?

Im.

Ten Sir.

Pag.

Without doubt he hath beene some Carriers horse.

S. Rad.

How call you him that is cunning in 1.2.3.4.5. and the Cipher?

Im.

A good Arithmatician.

S. Rad.

Write downe that answeare of his, to show his learning in Arithmetick:

Pag.

He must nedes be a good Arithmetician that counted money so lately.

S. Rad.

When is the new moone?

Im.

The last quarter the 5. day at 2. of the cloke and 38. minuts in the morning.

S. Rad.

Write him downe, how cal you him, that is weather­wise?

Recor.

A good Astonomer.

S. Rad.

Sirrha boy write him downe for a good Astronomer.

Pag.

As Colit astra.

S. Rad.

What day of the month lights the Queenes day on?

Im.

The 17. of Nouember.

S. Rad.

Boy refeere this to his vertues, and write him down a good subiect.

Pag.

Faith he were an excellent subiect for 2. or 3. good wits. he would make a fine Asle for an ape to ride vpon.

S. Rad.

And these shall suffice for the parts of his learning, now it remaines to try whether you bee a man of good vtte­rance, [Page] that is, whether you can aske for the strayed Heifer with the white face, as also chide the boyes in the belfrie, and bid the Sexton whippe out the dogges: let mee heare your voyce.

Im.

If any man or woman.

S. Rad.

Thats too high.

Im.

If any man or woman.

S. Rad.

Thats too lowe.

Im.

If any man or woman, can tell any tydings of a Horse with fowre feete, two eares, that did straye about the seuenth howre, three minutes in the sorenoone the fift day.

Page.

I tooke of a horse iust as it were the Ecclipse of the Moone.

S. Rad.

Boy wryte him downe for a good vtterance: Maister Recorder I thinke he hath beene examined suffi­ciently.

Rec.

I, Sir Radericke, tis so, wee haue tride him very throughly.

Pag.

I we haue taken an inuentory of his good parts and pri­zed them accordingly.

S. Rad.

Signior Immerito, forasmuch as we haue made a dou­ble tryall of thee, the one of your learning, the other of your erudition: it is expedient also in the next place to giue you a fewe exhortations, considering the greatest Clarkes are not the wisest men: this is therefore first to exhort you to abstaine from Controuersies. Secondly not to gird at men of worship, such as my selfe, but to vse your selfe discreetly. Thirdly not to speake when any man or woman coughs: doe so, and in so doing I will perseuer to bee your worshipfull friend and louing patron.

Im.

I thanke your worship, you haue beene the deficient cause of my preferment.

Sir Rad.

Lead Immerito in to my sonne, and let him dis­patch him, and remember my tithes to bee reserued, paying twelue pence a yeare. I am going to Moore-fieldes, to [Page] speake with an vnthrist I should meete at the middle Temple about a purchase, when you haue done follow vs.

Exeunt Immerito and the Page.

Act. 3. Scen. 2.

Sir Rad: and Recorder.
Sir Rad.

Harke you Maister Recorder, I haue flesht my prodigall boy notably, notablie in letting him deale for this liuing, that hath done him much, much good I assure you.

Rec.

You doe well Sir Raderick, to bestowe your liuing vpon such an one as will be content to share, and on Sunday to say nothing, whereas your proud vniuersity princox thinkes he is a man of such merit the world cannot sufficiently endow him with preferment, an vnthankfull viper, an vn­thankefull Viper that will sting the man that reuiued him.

Why ist not strange to see a ragged clarke,
Some stamell weauer or some butchers sonne:
That scrubd a late within a sleeueles gowne,
When the Commencement, like a morice dance,
Hath put a bell or two about his legges,
Created him a sweet cleane gentleman:
How then he gins to follow fashions.
He whose thin sire dwell in a smokye roufe,
Must take Tobacco and must weare a locke.
His thirsty Dad drinkes in a wooden bowle,
But his sweet selfe is seru'd in siluer plate.
His hungry sire will scrape you twenty legges,
For one good Christmas meale on New-yeares day.
But his mawe must be Capon crambd each day,
He must ere long be triple beneficed,
Els with his tongue hee I thunderbolt the world,
And shake each pesant by his deafe-mans eare.
But had the world no wiser men then I,
Weede pen the prating parates in a cage,
A chayre a candle and a Tinderbox.
[Page]
A thacked chamber and a ragged gowne
Should be their landes and whole possessions,
Knights, Lords, & lawyers should be log'd & dwel
Within those ouer stately heapes of stone.
Which doting syres in old age did erect.

Well it were to be wished that neuer a scholler in England might haue aboue fortie pound a yeare.

Sir Rad.

Faith maister Recorder, if it went by wishing, there should neuer an one of them all haue aboue twentie a yeare: a good stipend, a good stipēd maister Recorder. I [...]n the meane time, howsoeuer I hate them all deadly, yet I am fayne to giue them good words. Oh they are pestilent fellowes, they speake nothing but bodkins, and pisse vinegar. Well, do what I can in outward kindnesse to them, yet they doe nothing but be­ray my house: as there was one that made a couple of knauish verses on my country Chimney now in the time of my soiour­ning here at London: and it was thus.

Sir Radericke keepes no Chimney Cauelere,
That takes Tobacco aboue once a yeare.

And an other made a couple of verses on my Daughter that learnes to play on the viall de gambo,

Her vyall de gambo is her best content,
For twixt her legges she holds her instrument.

Very knauish, very knauish, if you looke vnto it maister Recorder, Nay they haue playd many a knauish tricke beside with me. Well, tis a shame indeede there should be any such priuilege for proud beggars as Cambridge, and Oxford are. But let them go, and if euer they light in my handes, if I do not plague them, let me neuer returne home againe to see my wifes wayting mayde.

Recor.
This scorne of knights is too egregious.
But how should these young coltes proue amblers,
When the old heauy galled iades do trot:
There shall you see a puny boy start vp,
And make a theame against common lawyers:
Then the old vnweldy Camels gin to dance,
This siddling boy playing a fit of mirth:
[Page]
The gray bearde scrubbe, and laugh and cry good, good,
To them againe, boy scurdge the barbarians:
But we may giue the loosers leaue to talke,
We haue the coyne, then tel them laugh for me.
Yet knights and lawyers hope to see the day.
When we may share here their possessions,
And make Indentures of their chaffred skins:
Dice of their bones to throw in meriment.
Sir Rad.

O good fayth maister Recorder, if I could see that day once.

Rec.

Well remember another day, what I say [...] schollers are pryed into of late, and are found to bee busye fellowes, distur­berts of the peace, Ile say no more, gesse at my meaning, I smel a ratt.

Sir Rad.

I hope at length England will be wise enough, I hope so, I faith, then an old knight may haue his wench in a corner without any Satyres or Epigrams. But the day is farre spēt, maist. Recorder, & I feare by this time the vnthrift is arri­ued at the place appointed in Moore fields, let vs hastē to him.

He lookes on his watch.
Recor.

Indeed this dayes subiect transported vs too late, I thinke we shall not come much too late.

Exeunt.

Act. 3. Scen. 3.

Enter Amoretto, his page, Immerito booted.
Amor.

Maister Immerito deliuer this letter to the poser in my fathers name: marry withall some sprinkling, some sprink­ling verbum sapienti sat est. farwell maister Immerito.

Imer.

I thanke your worship most hartely.

Pag.

Is it not a shame to see this old dunce learning his In­duction at these yeares: but let him go, I loose nothing by him, for Ile be sworne but for the booty of selling the parsonage I should haue gone in mine old cloathes this Christmas. A dunce I see is a neighbour like brute breast, a man may liue by him.

Amor. seemes to make verse.
Amor.

A pox on it, my muse is not so witty as shee was wonte to be her nose is like, not yet. plague on these mathe­matikes, they haue spoyled my brayne in making a verse.

Page.

Hang me if he hath any more mathematikes then will serue to count the clocke, or tell the meridian howre by rumbling of his panch.

Am.

Her nose is like.

Page.

A coblers shooinghorne.

Am.

Her nose is like a beauteous maribone;

Pag.

Marry a sweete snotty mistres.

Amor.

Fayth I do not like it yet: asse as I was to reade a peece of Aristotle in greeke yesternight, it hath put mee out of my English vaine quite.

Pag.

O monstrous lye, let me be apointtrusser while I liue if he vnderstands any tongue but English.

Amor.

Sirrha boy remember me when I come in Paules Churchyard to by a Ronzard, & Dubartas in french & Are­tine in Italian, and our hardest writers in spanish, they wil shar pen my witts gallantly. I doe rellish these tongues in some sort. Oh now I do remember I heare a report of a Poet newly come out in hebrew, it is a pretty harsh tongue, and rellish a gentleman traueller, but come letts hast after my father, the fields are fitter to heauenly meditations.

Exeunt.
Page.

My maisters, I could wish your presence at an admi­rable iest, why presently this great linguist my master will march through Paules Church-yard. Come to a booke bin­ders shop, and with a big Italian looke and a spanish face aske for these bookes in spanish and Italian, then turning, through his ignorance, the wrong end of the booke vpward vse acti­on, on this vnknowne tong after this sort, first looke on the title and wrinckle his browe, next make as though he red the first page and bites a lip, then with his nayle score the margent as though there were some notable conceit, and lastly when he thinkes hee hath gulld the standers by sufficiently, throwes the booke away in a rage swearing that hee could neuer [Page] finde bookes of a true printe since he was last in Ioadna, en­quite after the next marte, and so departes. And so must I, for by this time his contemplation is ariued at his mistres nose end, he is as glad as i [...] he had taken Ostend: by his time he be­gins to spit, and cry boy, carry my cloake: and now I go to at­tend on his worship.

Act. 2. Scen 4.

Enter Ingenioso, Furor, Phantasma.
Ing.

Come ladds, this wine whetts your resolution in our designe: it's a needy world with subtill spirits, and there's a gentle manlike kinde of begging, that may beseeme Poets in this age.

Furor.
Now by the wing of nimble Mercury,
By my Thalias siluer sounding harpe:
By that caelestiall fier within my brayne,
That giues a liuing genius to my lines:
How ere my dulled intellectuall.
Capres lesse nimbly then it did a fore,
Yet will I play a hunt's up to my muse:
And make her mount from out her shuggish nest,
As high as is the highest spheere in heauen:
Awake you paltry trulles of Helicon,
Or by this light Ile Swagger with you streight:
You grandsyre Phaebus with your louely eye,
The firmaments eternall vagabond,
The heauens promoter that doth peepe and prye,
Into the actes of mortall tennis balls.
Inspire me streight with some rare delicies,
Or Ile dismount thee from thy radiant coach:
And make thee poore Cutchy here on earth.
Phan.
Currus auriga paterni.
Ing.

Nay prethe good Furor, doe not roaue in times before thy time: thou hast a very terrible roaring muse, nothing but squibs and fine ierkes, quiet thy selfe a while and heare thy charge.

Phan.
Huc ades haec, animo concipe dicta tuo.
Ingeni.

Let vs on to our deuise, our plot, our proiect. That old Sir Raderick, that new printed compendium of all inqui­tye, that hath not ayred his countrey Chimney once in 3. win­ters: he that loues to liue in an od corner here at London, and effect an odde wench in a nooke, one that loues to liue in a narrow roome, that he may with more facility in the darke, light vpon his wifes waiting maide, one that loues alife a short sermon and a long play, one that goes to a play, to a whore, to his bedde in Circle, good for nothing in the world but to sweate nightcaps, & foule faire lawne shirtes, feede a few fog­gy seruing men, and preferre dunces to liuings. This old Sir Raderick (Furor) it shall be thy taske to cudgell with thy thick thwart tearmes: marry at the first giue him some sugar can­dy tearmes, and then if he will not vnty purse stringes, of his liberality, sting him with tearmes layd in aqua fortis and gun­powder.

Furor.
In noua fert animus mutatas dicere formas.
The Seruile current of my slyding verse,
Gentle shal runne into his thick skind eares:
Where it shall dwell like a magnifico,
Command his slymie spright to honour me:
For my high tiptoe strouting poesye.
But if his starrs hath fauour'd him so ill,
As to debarre him by his dunghil thoughts,
Iustly to esteeme my verses lowting pitch:
If his earth wroting snout shal gin to scorne,
My verse that giueth immortality:
Then, Bella per Emathios.
Phan.
Furor arma ministrat.
Furor.
Ile shake his heart vpon my verses poynte.
Rip out his gutts with riuyng poinard:
Quarter his credit with a bloody quill.
Phan.
Calami, Atramentum, charta, libelli,
Sunt semper studijs arma parata tuis.
Ing.

Inough Furor, wee know thou art a nimble swagge­rer with a goose quill: now for you Phantasma, leaue trussing your pointes and listen.

Phan.
Omne tulit punctum.
Ing.

Marke you Amoretto Sir Radericks sonne, to him shall thy piping poetry and sugar endes of verses be directed, he is one, that wil draw out his pocket glasse thrise in a walke, one that dreames in a night of nothing, but muske and ciuet, and talke of nothing all day long but his hauke, his hound, and his mistres, one that more admires the good wrinckle of a boote, the curious crinkling of a silke stocking, then all the witt in the world: one that loues no scholler but him whose tyred eares can endure halfe a day togither, his fliblowne son­ne [...]tes of his mistres, and her louing pretty creatures, her munckey and her puppet: it shal bee thy task (Phantasma) to cut this gulles throate with faire tearmes, and if he hold fast for al thy iuggling rettoricke, fal at defyance with him, and the poking sticke he weares.

Phan.
Simul extulit ensem.
Ing.

Come braue mips, gather vp your spirits and let vs march on like aduenturous knights, and discharge a hundreth poeticall spiritts vpon them.

Phan.
Est deus in nobis, agitante calescimus illo.
Exeunt.

Act. 3. Scen. 5.

Enter Philomusus, Studioso.
Stud.

Well Philomusus, we neuer scaped so faire a scour­ing: why yonder are pursevantes out for the french Doctor, and a lodging bespoken for him and his man in newgate. It was a terrible feare that made vs cast our hayre.

Phil.
And canst thou sport at our calamityes?
And countest vs happy to scape prisonment?
Why the wide world that blesseth some with wayle,
Is to our chayned thoughts a darkesome gayle:.
Stud.
Nay prethee friend these wonted tearmes forgo,
He doubles griefe that comments on a wo.
Phil.
Why do fond men tearme it impiety,
To send a wearisome sadde grudging Ghost,
[Page]
Vnto his home, his long, long, lasting home?
Or let them make our life lesse greeuous be,
Or suffer vs to end our misery.
Stud.
Oh no the sentinell his watch must keepe,
Vntill his Lord do lycence him to sleepe:
Phil.
It's time to sleepe within our hollowe graues,
And rest vs in the darkesome wombe of earth:
Dead things are graued, and bodies are no lesse
Pined and forlorne like Ghostly carcases.
Stud.
Not long this tappe of loathed life can runne,
Soone commeth death, and then our woe is done.
Meane time good Philomusus be content,
Letts spend our dayes in hopefull merryment.
Phil.
Curst be our thoughts whē ere they dreame of hope:
Band be those happs that henceforth flatter vs,
When mischiefe doggs vs still and still for aye,
From our first byrth vntill our burying day.
In our first gamesome age, our doting sires
Carked and cared to haue vs lettered:
Sent vs to Cambridge where our cyle is spent:
Vs our kinde Colledge from the teate did teate:
And for'st vs walke before we weaned weare,
From that time since wandred haue we still:
In the wide world, vrg'd by our forced will,
Nor euer haue we happy fortune tryed:
Then why should hope with our tent state abide?
Nay let vs run vnto the basefull caue,
Pight in the hollow ribbs of craggy cliffe,
Where dreary owles do shrike the liue-long night,
Chasing away the byrdes of chearefull light:
Where yawning Ghosts do howle in ghastly wise,
Where that dull hollow ey'd that staring, syre,
Yelept Dispaire hath his sad mansion,
Him let vs finde, and by his counsell we,
Will end our too much yrked misery.
Stud.
To wayle thy happs argues a dastard minde.
Phil.
To heare too long argues an asses kinde.
Stud.
Long since the worst chance of the die was cast,
Phil.
But why should that word worst so long time last?
Stud.
Why doth thou now these sleepie plaintes com­mence?
Phil.
Why should I ere be duld with patience?
Stud.
Wise folke do beare with, strugling cannot mend.
Phil.
Good spirits must with thwarting fates contend
Stud.
Some hope is left our fortunes to redresse,
Phil.
No hope but this, ere to be comfortlesse,
Stud.
Our liues remainder gentler hearts may finde,
Phil.
The gentlest harts to vs will proue vnkind.

Act. 4. Scen. 1.

Sir Radericke and Prodigo, at one corner of the Stage, Recor: and Amoretto at the other. Two Pages scouring of Tobacco pipes.
Sir. Rad.

M. Prodigo, M. Recorder hath told you lawe, your land is forfeited: and for me not to take the forfeiture, were to breake the Queenes law, for marke you, its law to take the for­feiture: therefore not to breake it is to breake the Queenes law, and to breake the Queenes law is not to be a good subiect, and I meane to bee a good subiect. Besides, I am a Iustice of the peace, and being Iustice of the peace I must do iustice, that is law, that is to take the forfeiture, especially hauing taken notice of it. Marrie Maister Prodigo, here are a few shillings, ouer and besides the bargaine.

Prod.

Pox on your shillings, sblood a while agoe, before he had me in the lurch, who but my coozen Prodigo, you are welcome my coozen Prodigo, take my coozen Prodigoes horse, a cup of Wine for my coozen Prodigo, good faith you shall sit here good coozen Prodigo, a cleane trencher for my coozen Prodigo, haue a speciall care of my coozen Prodigoes lodging: now maister Prodigo with a pox, and a few shil­lings for a vantage, a plague on your shillings, pox on your shillings, if it were not for the Sergeant which dogges me at [Page] my heeles, a plague on your shillings, pox on your shillings, pox on your selfe and your shillings, pox on your wor­ship, if I catch thee at Ostend: I dare not staye for the Ser­geant.

Exit.
S. Rad. pag.

Good faith Maister Prodigo is an excellent fellow, he takes the Gulan ebullitio so excellently.

Amor. Page.

He is a good liberall Gentleman, he hath be­stowed an ounce of Tobacco vpon vs, and as long as it lasts, come cut and long-taile, weele spend it as liberally for his sake.

S. Rad. Page.

Come fill the Pipe quickly, while my maister is in his melancholie humour, it's iust the melancholy of a Col­liers horse.

Amor. page.

If you cough Iacke after your Tobacco, for a punishment you shall kisse the Pantofle.

S. Rad.

It's a foule ouer-sight, that a man of worship can­not keepe a wench in his house, but there must be muttering and surmising: it was the wisest saying that my father euer vt­tered, that a wife was the name of necessitie, not of pleasure: for what do men marry for, but to stocke their ground, and to haue one to looke to the linnen, sit at the vpper end of the ta­ble, and carue vp a Capon: one that can weare a hood like a Hawke, and couer her foule face with a Fanne: but there's no pleasure alwayes to be tyed to a piece of Mutton, sometimes a messe of stewd broth will do well, and an vnlac'd Rabbet is best of all: well for mine owne part, I haue no great cause to complaine, for I am well prouided of three bounsing wen­ches, that are mine owne fee-simple: one of them I am pre­sently to visit, if I can rid my selfe cleanly of this company. Let me see how the day goes:

(hee puls his Watch out.)

precious coales, the time is at hand, I must meditate on an excuse to be gone.

Record.

The which I say, is grounded on the Statute I spake of before, enacted in the raigne of Henry the 6.

Amor.

It is a plaine case, whereon I mooted in our Tem­ple, and that was this: put case there be three bretheren, Iohn a Nokes, Iohn a Nash, and Iohn a Stile: Iohn a Nokes the elder, Iohn a Nash the younger, Iohn a Stile the youngest of all, Iohn [Page] a Nash the younger, dyeth without issue of his body law­fully begotten: whether shall his lands ascend to Iohn a Noakes the elder, or discend to Iohn a Stile the youngest of all? The answer is: The lands do collaterally descend, not ascend.

Record.

Very true, and for a proofe hereof, I will shew you a place in Littleton, which is verye pregnant in this point.

Actus 4. Scena 2.

Enter Ingenioso, Furor, Phantasma.
Ing.

Ile pawne my wittes, that is, my reuenues, my land, my money, and whatsoeuer I haue, for I haue nothing but my wit, that they are at hand: why any sensible snout may winde Maister Amoretto and his Pomander, Maister Recorder and his two neates feete that weare no sockes, Sir Radericke by his rammish complexion. Olet Gorgoinus hyrcum, S't. Lupus in fabula. Furor fire the Touch-box of your witte: Phantasma, let your inuention play tricks like an Ape: begin thou Furor, and open like a phlapmouthed Hound: follow thou Phantas­ma like a Ladies Puppie: and as for me, let me alone, Ile come after like a Water-dogge that will shake them off, when I haue no vse of them: My maisters, the watch-word is giuen. Furor discharge.

Furor
to S. Rad.
The great proiector of the Thunder-bolts,
He that is wont to pisse whole clouds of raine,
Into the earth vast gaping vrinall,
Which that one ey'd subsicer of the skie,
Don Phoebus empties by caliditie:
He and his Townesmen Planets brings to thee,
Most fatty lumpes of earths facilitie.
S. Rad.

Why will this fellowes English breake the Queenes peace, I will not seeme to regarde him.

Phant.
to Am.
Mecoenas atauis edite regibus,
O et praesidium, & dulce decus meum,
Dij faciant votis vela secunda tuis.
Ing.

God saue you good maister Recorder, and good for­tunes follow your deserts: I thinke I haue curst him sufficient­ly in few words.

S. Rad.

What haue we here, three begging Souldiers, come you from Ostend, or from Ireland?

Pag.

Cuium pecus, an Maelibei? I haue vented all the Latin one man had.

Phan.

Quid dicam amplius? domini similis es.

Amor. pag.

Let him alone I pray thee, to him againe, tickle him there.

Phant.

Quam dispari domino dominaris?

Rec.

Nay that's plaine in Littleton, for if that fee-simple, and the fee taile be put together, it is called hotch potch: now this word hotch potch in English is a Pudding, for in such a pud­ding is not commonly one thing onely, but one thing with another.

Amor.

I thinke I do remember this also at a mooting in our Temple: so then this hotch potch seemes a terme of simi­litude.

Furor
to S. Rad.
Great Capricornus, of thy head take keepe,
Good Virgo watch, while that thy worship sleepe,
And when thy swelling vents amaine,
Then Pisces be thy sporting Chamberlaine.
S. Rad.

I thinke the deuill hath sent some of his family to torment me.

Amor.

There is taile generall and taile speciall, and Littleton is very copious in that the ame: for taile generall is, when lands are giuen to a man and his heyres of his body begotten: Taile speciall, is when lands are giuen to a man, and to his wife, and to the heires of their two bodyes lawfully begotten, and that is called Taile speciall.

S. Rad.

Very well, and for his oath I will giue a distinction: there is a materiall oath, and a formall oath: the formall oath [Page] may be broken, the materiall may not be broken: for marke you sir, the law is to take place before the conscience, and therefore you may, vsing me your counseller, cast him in the sute: there wants nothing to the full meaning of this place.

Phant.
Nihil hic nisi Carmina desunt.
Ing.

An excellent obseruation in good faith, see how the old Fox teacheth the young Cub to wurry a sheepe, or ra­ther sits himselfe like an old Goose, hatching the addle braine of maister Amoretto: there is no foole to the Sattin foole, the Veluet foole, the perfumde foole, and therefore the witty Taylors of this age, put them vnder colour of kindnesse into a paire of cloath-bags, where a voyder will not serue the turne: and there is no knaue to the barbarous knaue the moul­ting knaue, the pleading knaue: what ho maister Recorder? Maister Nouerint vniuersi per presentes, not a word he, vnlesse he feele it in his fist.

Phant.
Mitto tibi metulas, cancros imitare legendo.
S. Rad.
to Furor.

Fellow what art thou that art so bold?

Fur.
I am the bastard of great Mercurie,
Got on Thalia when she was a sleepe:
My Gawdie Grandsire, great Apollo high,
Borne was I heare, but that my luck was ill,
To all the land vpon the forked hill.
Phant.
O crudelis Alexi nil mea carmina curas?
Nil nostri miserere mori me dein{que} coges?
S. Rad. Pag.

If you vse them thus, my maister is a Iustice of peace, and will send you all to the gallowes.

Phant.
Hei mihi quod domino non licet ire tuo.
Ing.

Good maister Recorder, let me retaine you this terme for my cause, for my cause good maister Recorder.

Record.

I am retained already on the contrary part, I haue taken my fee, be gon, be gon.

Ing.

It's his meaning I should come off: why here is the true stile of a villaine, the true faith of a Lawyer: it is vsuall with them to be bribed on the one side, and then to take a fee of the other: to plead weakely, and to be bribed and rebribed on the one side, then to be feed and refeed of the other, till at [Page] length, per varios casus, by putting the case so often, they make their client so lanke, that they may case them vp in a combe case, and pack them home from the tearme, as though he had trauelled to London to sell his horse onely, and hauing lost their sleeces, liue afterward like poore shorne sheepe.

Furor.
The Gods aboue that know great Furors fame,
And do adore grand poet Furors name:
Granted long since at heauens high parliament,
That who so Furor shal immortalize,
No yawning goblins shall frequent his graue,
Nor any bold presumptuous curr shall dare
To lift his legge against his sacred dust.
Where ere I haue my rymes, thence vermin fly
All, sauing that foule fac'd vermin pouerty.
This sucks the eggs of my inuention:
Euacuates my witts full pigeon house.
Now may it please thy generous dignity;
To take this vermin napping as he lyes,
In the true trappe of liberallity:
Ile cause the Pleiades to giue thee thanks,
Ile write thy name within the sixteenth spheare:
Ile make the Antarticke pole to kisse thy to a,
And Cinthia to do homage to thy tayle.
Sir Rad.

Pretious coles, thou a man of worship and Iustice too? It's euen so, he is ether a madde man or a coniurer: it were, well if his words were examined, to see if they be the Queenes or no.

Phan.
Nunc si nos audis vt qui es diuinus Apollo,
Dic mihi, qui nummos non habet vnde petat?
Amor.

I am stil haunted with these needy Lattinist fellowes: the best counsell I can giue is to be gone.

Phan.
Quod peto da Caie, non peto consilium.
Am.

Fellow looke to your braines: you are mad, you are mad.

Phan.
Semel insaniuimus omnes.
Am.

Maister Recorder, is it not a shame that a gallant can­not walke the streete quietly for needy fellowes, and that, after there is a statute come out against begging?

He strikes his brest.
Phant.
Pectora percussit, pectus quo{que} robora fiunt.
Recor.

I warrant you, they are some needy graduates: the Vniuersity breakes winde twise a yeare, and lets flie such as these are.

Ing.

So ho maister Recorder, you that are one of the Diuels fellow commoners, one that sizeth the Deuils butteries, sinnes and periuries very lauishly: one that are so deare to Lucifer, that he neuer puts you out of commons for non paiment: you that liue like a summer vpon the sinnes of the people: you whose vocation serues to enlarge the territories of Hell, that (but for you) had beene no bigger then a paire of Stockes or a Pillorie: you that hate a scholler, because he descries your Asses eares: you that are a plague stuffed Cloake-bagge of all iniquitie, which the grand Seruing man of Hell will one day trusse vp behind him, and carry to his smokie Warde­robe.

Recor.

What frantick fellow art thou, that art possest with the spirit of malediction?

Furor.
Vile muddy clod of base vnhallowed clay,
Thou slimie sprighted vnkinde Saracen:
When thou wert borne, dame Nature cast her Calfe,
Forrage and time had made thee a great Oxe,
And now thy grinding lawes deuoure quite,
The fodder due to vs of heauenly spright.
Phant.
Nefasto te posuit die quicunque primum et sacrilega manu,
Produxit arbos in nepotum perniciem ob propriumque pugi.
Ingeni.

I pray you Monseiur Ploidon, of what Vniuersitie was the first Lawyer of, none forsooth, for your Lawe is ruled by reason, and not by Arte: great reason indeed that a Ploydenist should bee mounted on a trapt Palfrey, with a round Veluet dish on his head, to keepe warme the broth of his witte, and a long Gowne, that makes him looke like a Cedant arma togae, whilest the poore Aristotelians walke in a shorte cloake and a close Venetian hoase, hard by the [Page] Oyster-wise: and the silly Poet goes muffled in his Cloake to escape the Counter. And you Maister Amoretto, that art the chiefe Carpenter of Sonets, a priuileged Vicar for the lawlesse marriage of Inke and Paper, you that are good for nothing but to commend in a sette speach, to colour the quantitie of your Mistresses stoole, and sweare it is most sweete Ciuet: it's fine when that Puppet-player Fortune, must put such a Birchen-lane post in so good a suite, such an Asse in so good fortune.

Amor.

Father shall I draw?

Sir Rad.

No sonne, keepe thy peace, and holde the peace.

Inge.

Nay do not draw, least you chance to bepisse your credit.

Furor.
Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta mouebo.
Fearefull Megaera with her snakie twine,
Was cursed dam vnto thy damned selfe;
And Hircan tigers in the desert Rockes,
Did foster vp thy loathed hatefull life,
Base Ignorance the wicked cradle rockt,
Vile Barbarisme was wont to dandle thee:
Some wicked hell-hound tutored thy youth,
And all the grifly sprights of griping hell,
With mūming looke hath dogd thee since thy birth:
See how the spirits do houer ore thy head,
As thick as gnattes in summer euening tide,
Balefull Alecto, preethe stay a while,
Till with my verses I haue rackt his soule:
And when thy soule departs a Cock may be,
No blanke at all in hells great Lotterie.
Shame sits and howles vpon thy loathed graue,
And howling vomit vp in filthy guise,
The hidden stories of thy villanies.
Sir Rad.

The Deuill my maisters, the Deuill in the likenesse of a Poet, away my maisters away.

Exit.
Phan.
Arma virum{que} cano,
Quemfugis ah demeus?
Amor.

Base dog, it is not the custome in Italy to draw vp­on euery idle cur that barkes, and did it stand with my reputa­tion: oh, well go too, thanke my Father for your liues.

Ing.

Fond gul whom I would vndertake to bastmado quick­ly, though there were a musket planted in thy mouth, are not you the young drouer of liuings. Academico told me of that hants steeple faires. Base worme must thou needes discharge thy craboun to batter downe the walles of learning.

Amor.

I thinke I haue committed some great sinne against my Mistris, that I am thus tormented with notable villaines: bold pesants I scorne, I scorne them.

Furor
to Recor.
Nay pray thee good sweet diuell do not thou part,
I like an honest deuill that will shew
Himselfe in a true hellish smoky hew:
How like thy snowt is to great Lucifers?
Such tallents had he, such a glaring eye,
And such a cunning slight in villanie.
Recor.

Oh the impudencie of this age, and if I take you in my quarters.

Furor.
Base slaue ile hang thee on a crossed rime,
And quarter.
Ing.

He is gone, Furor, stay thy fury.

S. Rad. Pag.

I pray you gentlemē giue 3. groats for a shilling.

Amo. Pag.

What wil you giue me for a good old sure of ap­parell?

Phan.
Habet et musca splenem, et formicae sua bilis inest.
Ing.

Gramercie good lads: this is our share in happinesse, to torment the happy: lets walke a long and laugh at the iest, its no staying here long, least Sir Radericks army of baylifes and clownes be sent to apprehend vs.

Phan.
Procul hinc, procul ite prophani.
Ile lash Apollon selfe with ierking hand,
Vnlesse he pawne his wit to buy me land.

Act. 4. Scen. 3.

Burbage. Kempe.
Bur.

Now Will Kempe if we can intertaine these schollers at a low rate, it wil be well, they haue oftentimes a good conceite in a part.

Kempe

Its true indeede, honest Dick, but the slaues are some­what proud, and besides, it is a good sport in a part to see them neuer speake in their walke, but at the end of the stage, iust as though in walking with a fellow we should neuer speake but at a stile, a gate, or a ditch, where a man can go no further. I was once at a Comedie in Cambridge, and there I saw a para­site make faces and mouths of all sorts on this fashion.

Bur.

A little teaching will mend these faults, and it may bee besides they will be able to pen a part.

Kemp.

Few of the vniuersity pen plaies well, they smell too much of that writer Ouid, and that writer Metamorphosis, and talke too much of Proserpina & Iuppiter. Why heres our fellow Shakespeare puts them all downe, I and Ben Ionson too. O that Ben Ionson is a pestilent fellow, he brought vp Horace giuing the Poets a pill, but our fellow Shakespeare hath giuen him a purge that made him beray his credit:

Bur.

Its a shrewd fellow indeed: I wonder these schollers stay so long, they appointed to be here presētly that we might try them: oh here they come.

Stud.
Take heart these lets our clouded thoughts refine,
The sun shines brightest when it gins decline.
Bur.

M. Phil. and M. Stud. God saue you.

Kemp.

M. Phil. and M. Otioso well met.

Phil.

The same to you good M. Burbage. What M. Kempe how doth the Emperour of Germany?

Stud.

God saue you M. Kempe: welcome M. Kempe from dā­cing the mortice ouer the Alpes.

Kemp.

Well you merry knaues you may come to the honor of it one day, is it not better to make a foole of the world as I haue done, then to be fooled of the world, as you schollers are? [Page] But be merry my lads, you haue happened vpon the most ex­cellent vocation in the world for money: they come North and South to bring it to our playhouse, and for honours, who of more report, then Dick Burbage & Will: Kempe, he is not coū­ted a Gentleman, that knowes not Dick Burbage & Wil Kemp, there's not a country wench that can dance Sellengers Round but can talke of Dick Burbage and Will Kempe.

Phil.

Indeed M. Kempe you are very famous, but that is as well for workes in print as your part in kne.

Kempe.

You are at Cambridge still with sice kne, and be lu­sty humorous poets, you must vntrusle, I road this my last cir­cuit, purposely because I would be iudge of your actions.

Bur.

M. Stud. I pray you take some part in this booke and act it, that I may see what will fit you best, I thinke your voice would serue for Hieronimo, obserue how I act it and then i­mitate mee.

Stud.
Who call Hieronimo from his naked bed?
And &c.
Bur.

You will do well after a while.

Kemp.

Now for you, me thinkes you should belong to my tu­ition, and your face me thinkes would be good for a soolish Mayre or a foolish iustice of peace: marke me. — Forasmuch as there be two states of a common wealth, the one of peace, the other of tranquility: two states of warre, the one of discord, the other of dislention: two states of an incorpo­ration, the one of the Aldermen, the other of the Brethren: two states of magistrates, the one of gouerning, the other of bearing rule, now, as I said euen now for a good thing, thing cannot be said too often: Vertue is the shooinghorne of iustice, that is, vertue is the shooinghorne of doing well, that is, vertue is the shooinghorne of doing iustly, it be hoo­ueth mee and is my part to commend this shooingborne vnto you. I hope this word shooinghorne doth not offend any of you my worshipfull brethren, for you beeing the wor­shipfull headsmen of the towne, know well what the horne meaneth, Now therefore I am determined not onely to teach but also to instruct, not onely the ignorant, but also [Page] the simple, not onely what is their duty towards their betters, but also whatis their dutye towards their superiours: come let mee see how you can doe, fit downe in the chaire.

Phil.

Forasmuch as there be. &c.

Kemp.

thou wilt do well in time, if thou wilt be ruled by thy betters, that is by my selfe, and such graue Aldermen of the playhouse as I am.

Bur.

I like your face, and the proportion of your body for Richard the 3. I pray M. Phil. let me see you act a little of it.

Phil.
Now is the winter of our discontent,
Made glorious summer by the sonne of Yorke,
Bur.

Very well I assure you, well M. Phil. and M. Stud. wee see what ability you are of: I pray walke with vs to our fellows, and weele agree presently.

Phil.

We will follow you straight M. Burbage.

Kempe.

Its good manners to follow vs, Maister Phil. and Maister Otioso.

Phil.
And must the basest trade yeeld vs reliefe?
Must we be practis'd to those leaden spouts,
That nought downe vent but what they do receiue?
Some fatall fire hath scorcht our fortunes wing,
And still we fall, as we do vpward spring:
As we striue vpward to the vaulted skie,
We fall and feele our hatefull destiny.
Stud.
Wonder it is sweet friend thy pleading breath,
So like the sweet blast of the southwest wind,
Melts not those rockes of yee, those mounts of woe,
Congeald in frozen hearts of men below.
Phil.
Wonder as well thou maist why mongst the waues,
Mongst the tempestuous waues on raging sea,
The wayling Marchant can no pitty craue.
What cares the wind and weather for their paines?
One strikss the sayle, another turnes the same,
He shakes the maine, an other takes the Ore,
An other laboureth and taketh paine,
To pumpe the sea into the sea againe.
[Page]
Still they take paines, still the loud windes do blowe
Till the ships prouder mast be layd belowe:
Stu.
Fond world that nere thinkes on that aged man,
That Ariostoes old swift paced man,
Whose name is Tyme, who neuer lins to run,
Loaden with bundles of decayed names,
The which in Lethes lake he doth intombe,
Saue onely those which swanlike schollers take,
And doe deliuer from that greedy lake.
Inglorious may they liue, inglorious die,
That suffer learning liue in misery.
Phil.
What caren they, what fame their ashes haue,
When once thei'r coopt vp in silent graue?
Stud.
If for faire fame they hope not when the dye,
Yet let them feare graues stayning Infamy.
Phil.
Their spendthrift heires will those firebrands quench
Swaggering full moistly on a tauernes bench.
Stud.
No shamed sire for all his glofing heire,
Must long be talkt of in the empty ayre.
Stud.
Beleeue me thou that art my second selfe,
My vexed soule is not disquieted,
For that I misse, is gaudy painted state,
Whereat my fortunes fairely aim'd of late.
For what am I, the meanest of many mo,
That earning profit are repaide with wo?
But this it is that dorh my soule torment,
To thinke so many actiueable wits,
That might contend with proudest birds of Po,
Sits now immur'd within their priuate cells,
Drinking a long lank watching candles smoake,
Spending the marrow of their flowring age,
In fruitelesse poring on some worme eate leafe:
When their deserts shall seeme of due to claime.
A cherefull crop of fruitfull swelling sheafe,
Cockle their haruest is, and weeds their graine,
Contempt their portion their possession paine:
Stud.
Schollers must frame to liue at a low sayle,
Phil.
[...] sayling where there blowes no happy gale.
Stud.
Our ship is ruin'd, all her tackling rent.
Phil.
And all her gaudy furniture is spent.
Stud.
Teares be the waues whereon her ruines bide.
Phil.
And sighes the windes that wastes her broken side.
Stud.
Mischiefe the Pilot is the ship to steare.
Phil.
And Wo the passenger this ship doth beare.
Stud.
Come Philomusus, let vs breake this chat,
Phil.
And breake my heart, oh would I could breake that.
Stud.
Lets learne to act that Tragick part we haue.
Phil.
Would I were silent actor in my graue.

Actus 5. Scena 1.

Phil. & Stud. become Fidlers with their consort.
Phil.

And tune fellow Fiddlers, Studioso & I are ready.

(they tune.
Stud: going aside sayeth.
Fayre fell good Orpheus, that would rather be
King of a mole hill, then a Keysars slaue:
Better it is mongst fidlers to be chiefe,
Then at plaiers trencher beg reliefe.
But ist not strange this mimick apes should priz [...]
Vnhappy Schollers at a hireling rate.
Vile world, that lifts them vp to hye degree,
And treades vs downe in groueling misery.
England affordes those glorious vagabonds,
That carried earst their fardels on their backes,
Coursers to ride on through the gazing streetes,
Sooping it in their glaring Satten sutes,
And Pages to attend their maisterships:
With mouthing words that better wits haue framed,
They purchase lands, and now Esquiers are made.
Phil.
What ere they seeme being euen at the best,
They are but sporting fortunes scornfull iests.
Stud.
So merry fortune is wont from ragges to take,
Some ragged grome, and him some gallant make.
Phil.
The world and fortune hath playd on vs too long.
Stud.
Now to the world we fiddle must a song.
Phil.
Our life is a playne song with cunning pend,
Whose highest pitch in lowest base doth end.
But see our fellowes vnto play are bent:
If not our mindes, letts tune our instruments.
Stud.
Letts in a priuate song our cunning try,
Before we sing to stranger company.
Phil.sings. The tune.
HOw can he sing whose voyce is hoarse with care?
How can he play whose heart stringes broken are?
How can he keepe his rest that nere found rest?
How can he keepe his time whome time nere blest?
Onely he can in sorrow beare a parte,
With vntaught hand and with vntuned hart.
Fond arts farewell, that swallowed haue my youth.
Adew vayne muses that haue wrought my ruth.
Repent fond syre that traynd'st thy happlesse sonne,
In learninges loare since bounteous almes are done.
Cease, cease harsh tongue, vntuned musicke rest:
Intombe thy sorrowes in thy hollow breast.
Stud.
Thankes Phil. for thy pleasant song,
Oh had this world a tutch of iuster griefe:
Hard rockes would weepe for want of our reliefe.
Phil.
The cold of wo hath quite vntun'd my voyce,
And made it too too harsh for listining eare:
Time was in time of my young fortunes spring,
I was a gamesome boy and learned to sing.

But say fellow musitians, you know best whether we go, at what dore must we imperiously beg.

Iack. fid.

Here dwells Sir Raderick and his sonne: it may be now at this good time of New yeare he will be liberall, let vs stand neere and drawe.

Phil.

Draw callest thou it, indeed it is the most desperate kinde of seruice that euer I aduentured on.

Act. 5. Scena. 2.

Enter the two Pages.
Sir. Rad pa.

My maister bidds me tell you that he is but new­ly fallen a sleepe, and you base slaues must come and disquiet him: what neuer a basket of Capons? masse, and if he comes heele commit you all.

Amor. Pag.

Sirra Iack, shall you and I play Sir Raderick and Amoretto, and reward these fiddlers, Ile, my maister Amo­retto, and giue them as much as he vseth.

Sir Rad.

And I my old maister Sir Raderick: fiddlers play. Ile reward you, fayth I will.

Amor pag.

Good fayth this pleaseth my sweete mistres ad­mirably: cannot you play twytty twatty foole, or to be at her, to be at her.

Rad. pag.

Haue you neuer a song of maister Dowlands making?

Am. pag.

Or Hos ego versiculos feci &c. A pox on it, my mai­ster Am. vseth it very often. I haue forgotten the verse.

Rad. pag.

Sir Theon: here are a couple of fellowes brought before me, and I know not how to decide the cause, looke in my Christmas booke who brought me a present

Am. pag.

On New-yeares day goodman Foole brought you a present, but goodman Clowne brought you none.

Rad. pag.

Then the right is on goodman fooles side.

Am. pag.

My mistres is so sweete, that al the Phifitions in the towne cannot make her stinck, she neuer goes to the stoole, oh she is a most sweete little munkey. Please your worship good father yonder are some would speake with you.

Rad. pag.

What haue they brought me any thing, if they haue not, say I take Phisick.

Forasmuch fiddlers, as I am of the peace, I must needs loue all weapons and instruments, that are for the peace, among which I account your fiddles, because they can neither bite nor scratch, marry now finding your fiddles to iarre, and kno­wing that iarring is a cause of breaking the peace, I am by the vertue of my office and place to commit your quarelling fid­dles to close prisonment in their cases.

They call within.

sha ho, Richard, Iack.

Am. Page.

The foole within, marres our play without. Fid­dlers set it on my head, I vse to size my musicke, or go on the score for it, Ile pay it at the quarters end.

Rad. Page.

Farewell good Pan, sweete Irenias adieu, Don Orpheus a thousand times farewell.

Iack Fid.

You swore you would pay vs for our musick.

Rad. Page.

For that Ile giue Maister Recorders law, and that is this, there is a double oath, a formall oath, and a materiall oath: a materiall oath cannot be broken, the formall oath may be broken, I swore formally: farewell Fidlers.

Phil.
Farewell good wags, whose wits praise worth I deeme,
Though somewhat waggish, so we all haue beene.
Stud.

Faith fellow Fidlers, heres no siluer found in this place, no not so much as the vsuall Christmas entertainment of Mu­sitians, a black Iack of Beare, and a Christmas Pye.

They walke aside from their fellowes.
Phil.
Where ere we in the wide world playing be,
Misfortune beares a part, and marres our melody,
Impossible to please with Musickes straine,
Our hearts strings brokē, are nere to be tun'd againe.
Stud.
Then let vs leaue this baser fidling trade,
For though our purse should mend, our credit fades.
Phil.
Full glad I am to see thy mindes free course,
Declining from this trencher waiting trade.
Well may I now disclose in plainer guise,
What earst I meant to worke in secret wise:
My busie conscience checkt my guilty soule,
For seeking maintenance by base vassallage,
And then suggested to my searching thought,
A shepheards poore secure contented life,
On which since then I doted euery houre,
And meant this same houre in sadder plight,
To haue stolne from thee in secrecie of night.
Deare friend thou seem'st to wrong my soule too much,
Thinking that Studioso would account,
That fortune sowre, which thou accomptest sweete,
Nor any life to me can sweeter be,
[Page]
Then happy swaines in plaine of Arcady.
Phil.
Why then letts both go spend our litle store,
In the prouision of due surniture:
A shepards hooke, a tarbox and a scrippe.
And hall vnto those sheepe adorned hills,
Where if not blesse our fortunes we may blesse our wills.
Stud.
True mirth we may enioy in thacked stall,
Nor hoping higher rise, nor feating lower fall.
Phil.

Weele therefore discharge these fidlers. Fellow musi­tions, wee are sory that it hath beene your ill happe to haue had vs in your company, that are nothing but scritch-owles, and night Rauens, able to marre the purest melody: & besids, our company is so ominous, that where we are, thence libe­rality is packing, our resolution is therefore to wish you well, and to bidde you farewell.

Come Stud: let vs hast away,
Returning neare to this accursed place.

Actus 5. Scena. 3.

Enter Ingenioso, Academico.
Inge.

Faith Academico, it's the feare of that fellow, I meane the signe of the seargeants head, that makes me to be so hasty to be gone: to be briefe Academico, writts are out for me, to apprehend mee for my playes, and now I am bound for the Ile of doggs. Furor and Phantasma comes after, remoouing the campe as fast as they can: farewell, mea si quid vota vale­bunt.

Acad.

Fayth Ingenioso: I thinke the Vniuersity is a me­lancholik life, for there a good fellow cannot sit two howres in his chamber, but he shall bee troubled with the bill of a Drawer, or a Vintner: but the point is, I know not how to bet­ter my selfe, and so I am sayne to take it.

Act. 5. Scen. 4.

Phil, Stud. Furor, Phant.
Phil.

Who haue we there, Ingenioso, and Academico?

Stud.

The verye same, who are those, Furor and Phantas­ma?

Furor takes a louse off his sleeue.
Furor.
And art thou there six footed Mercury?
Phan. with his hand in his bo­some.
Are rymes become such creepers now a dayes?
Presumptuous louse, that doth good manners lack,
Daring to creepe vpon Poet Furors back:
Multum refert quibuscum vixeris.
Non videmus Manticae quod in tergo est.
Phil.

What Furor and Phan. too, our old colledge fellowes, let vs incounter them all. Ing: Acad. Furor. Phantasma. God saue you all.

Stud.

What Ingen. Acad. Furor. Phantasma: howe do you braue lads.

Ing.

What our deere friends Phil. and Stud?

Aca.

What our old friends Phil. and Stud?

Fur.

What my supernaturall friends?

Ing,

What newes with you in this quarter of the Cit­ty?

Phil.
We haue run through many trades, yet thriue by none.
Poore in content, and onely rich in moane,
A shephards life thou knowest I wont to admire,
Turning a Cambridge apple by the fire.
To liue in humble dale we now are bent,
Spending our dayes in fearelesse merriment.
Stud.
Weel teach each tree euen of the hardest kind,
To keepe our woefull name within their rinde:
Weel watch our flock, and yet weele sleepe withall.
Weele tune our sorrowes to the waters fall,
The woods and rockes with our sh [...]ill songs weel [...] blesse,
[Page]
Let them proue kind since men proue pittilesse.

But say whether are you and your company iogging: it seemes by your apparell you are about to wander.

Ing.

Faith we are fully bent to be Lords of misrule in the worlds wide heath: our voyage is to the Ile of Dogges, there where the blattant beast doth rule and raigne Renting the credit of whom it please.

Where serpents tongs the pen men are to write,
Where cats do waule by day, dogges by night:
There shall engoared venom be my inke,
My pen a sharper quill of porcupine,
My stayned paper, this sin loaden earth:
There will I write in lines shall neuer die,
Our feared Lordings crying villany.
Phil.
A gentle wit thou hadst, nor is it blame,
To turne so tart for time hath wrongd the same,
Stu.
And well thou dost from this fond earth to flit,
Where most mens pens are hired parasites.
Aca.
Go happily, I wish thee store of gal,
Sharpely to wound the guilty world withall:
Phil.

But say, what shall become of Furor and Phantas­ma?

Ing.
These my companions still with me must wend,
Aca.
Fury and Fansie on good wits attend.
Fur.
When I arriue within the ile of Doggs,
Don Phoebus I will make thee kisse the pumpe.
Thy one eye pries in euery Drapers stall,
Yet neuer thinkes on poet Furors neede:
Furor is lowsie, great Furor lowsie is,
Ile make thee run this lowsie case I wis.
And thou my cluttish landresse Cinthia,
Nere thinkes on Furors linnen, Furors shirt:
Thou and thy squirting boy Endimion,
Lies slauering still vpon a lawlesse couch,
Furor will haue thee carted through the dirt,
That makest great poet Furor want his shirt.
Inge.

Is not here a tru [...] dogge that dare barke so boldly at the Mooone.

Phil.
Exclayming want and needy care and carke,
Would make the mildest spright to bite and barke.
Phan.

Canes timidi vehementius latrant. There are certaine burrs in the Ile of doggs called in our English tongue, men of worship, certaine briars as the Indians call them, as we say cer­tayne lawyers, certayne great lumps of earth, as the Arbians call them, certayne grosers as wee tearme them, quos ego sed motos praestat componere fluctus.

Inge.
We three vnto the snarling Iland hast,
And there our vexed breath in snarling wast.
Phil.
We will be gone vnto the downes of Kent,
Sure footing we shall find in humble dale:
Our fleecy flocke weel learne to watch and warde,
In Iulyes heate and cold of Ianuary:
Weel chant our woes vpon an oaten reede,
Whiles bleating flock vpon their supper feede:
So shall we shun the company of men,
Stud.
That growes more hatefull as the world growes old,
Weel teach the murmeting brookes in tears to flow:
And steepy rocke to wayle our passed wo.
Acad.
Adew you gentle spiritts, long adew:
Your witts I loue and your ill fortunes rue:
Ile hast me to my Cambridge cell againe,
My fortunes cannot wax but they may waine.
Inge.
Adew good sheppards, happy may you liue,
And if heereafter in some secret shade,
You shall recount poore schollers miseries,
Vouchsafe to mention with teares swelling eyes,
Ingeniosoes thwarting destinyes,
And thou still happy Academico,
That still maist rest vpon the muses bed,
Inioying there a quiet slumbering,
When thou repayest vnto thy Grantaes streame,
Wonder at thine owne blisse, pitty our case,
[Page]
That still doth tread ill fortunes endlesse maze,
Wish them that are preferments Almoners,
To cherish gentle wits in their greene bud:
For had not Cambridge bin to me vnkinde,
I had not turn'd to gall a milkye minde.
Phil.
I wish thee of good hap a plentious store,
Thy wit deserues no lesse, my loue can wish no more.
Farewell, farewell good Academico.
Neuer maist thou tast of our sore passed woe.
Wee wish thy fortunes may attaine their due:
Furor and you Phantasma both adue.
Acad.
Farewell, farewell, farewell, o long farewell,
The rest my tongue conceales, let sorrow tell,
Phan.

Et longum vale, inquit Iola.

Furor.
Farewel my masters, Furor's a masty dogge,
Nor can with a smooth glozing farewell cog.
Nought can great Furor do, but barke and howle,
And snarle, and grin, and carle, and towze the world,
Like a great swine by his long leane card lugges.
Farewell musty, dusty, rusty, fusty London,
Thou art not worthy of great Furors wit,
That cheatest vertue of her due desert,
And sufferest great Apolloes sonne to want.
Inge.
Nay stay awhile and helpe me to content:
So many gentle witts attention,
Who kennes the lawes of euery comick stage,
And wonders that our scene ends discontent.
Ye ayrie witts subtill,
Since that few schollers fortunes are content,
Wonder not if our scene ends discontent.
When that your fortunes reach their due content,
Then shall our scene end in her meriment.
Phil.
Perhaps some happy wit wi [...]h seeling hand,
Hereafter may recorde the pastorall
Of the two schollers of Pernassus hil,
And then our scene may end and haue content.
Inge.
Meane time if there be any spightfull Ghost,
[Page]
That smiles to see poore schollers misery:
Cold is his charity, his wit too dull,
We scorne his censure, he is a ieering gull.
But whatsoere refined sprights there be,
That deepely grone at our Calamity,
Whose breath is turn'd to sighes, whose eyes are wet,
To see bright arts bent to their latest set:
Whence neuer they againe their heads shall reere,
To blesse our art disgracing hemispheere.
Inge.

Let them.

Furor.

Let them.

Phan.

Let them.

All giue vs a plaudite.
Acad.

And none but them.

Phil.

And none but them.

Stud.

And none but them.

FINIS.

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