A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VIII (4th edition) - Various
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RICH. List, Leicester: hear'st thou not a mournful march?
LEI. Yes, Richmond, and it seemeth old De Vere.
OX. Lords, by your leave, is not our sovereign here?
KING. Yes, good old Aubrey.
OX. Ah, my gracious lord!
That you so much your high state should neglect!
Ah! God in heaven forgive this bloody deed!
Young Bruce, young Bruce, I weep
Thy mother and thy brother's wrong;
Yet to afflict thee more, more grief I bring.
BRUCE. O honourable Aubery de Vere,
Let sorrow in a sable suit appear:
Do not misshape her garment like delight;
If it be grief, why cloth'st thou her in white?
OX. I cannot tell thee yet: I must sit down.
Attend, young Bruce, and listen to the queen;
She'll not be tongue-tied: we shall have a stir
Anon, I fear, would make a man half-sick.
QUEEN. Are you here, lecher? O intemperate king!
Wilt thou not see me? Come, come, show your face,
Your grace's graceless, king's unkingly face.
What, mute? hands folded, eyes fix'd on the earth?
Whose turn is next now to be murdered?
The famish'd Bruces are on yonder side,
On this, another I will name anon;
One for whose head this garland I do bear,
And this fair, milk-white, spotless pendant too.
Look up, King John! see, yonder sits thy shame;
Yonder it lies! what, must I tell her name?
It is Matilda, poisoned by thee.
KING. Matilda! O that foul swift-footed slave,
That kills, ere one have time to bid him save!
Fair, gentle girl, ungently made away.
BRUCE. My banish'd uncle's daughter, art thou there?
Then I defy all hope, and swear--
LEI. Stay, Bruce, and listen well what oath to swear.
Louis the Dolphin, pitying our estate,
Is by the Christian king his father sent
With aid to help us, and is landed too.
Lords, that will fly the den of cruelty,
And fight to free yourselves from tyranny[374]--
Bruce, keep that castle to the only use
Of our elected king, Louis of France.
OX. God's passion! do not so: King John is here!
Lords, whisper not with Leicester? Leicester, fie!
Stir not again regardless mutiny.
Speak to them, Hugh:[375] I know thou lov'st the king.
Madam, go to them; nay do, for God's sake, do!
Down with your stomach,[376] for if he go down,
You must down too, and be no longer queen:
Advise you; go, entreat them speedily.
My sovereign, wherefore sit you sighing there?
The lords are all about to follow Louis:
Up and entreat them, else they will away.
KING. Good Oxford, let them go. Why should they stay?
OX. What, are ye desperate? That must not be.
Hear me, my lords.
[_All stand in council_.
KING. This pendant let me see.
_Amoris Castitatis et Honoris Honos_.
She was, indeed, of love the honour once,[377]
When she was lov'd of virtuous Huntington:
Of chastity the honour all her life;
To impure thoughts she never could be won:
And she of honour was the honour too.
By birth and life[378] she honour honoured.
Bring in two tapers lighted: quick, despatch!
LEI. Remember, Bruce, thy charge. Come, lords, away!
ALL _but_ OXFORD _and_ HUBERT. Away! we will away.
[_Bring in two white tapers_.
OX. Hark, Leicester, but one word: a little stay.
Help me, good Hubert! help me, gentle queen!
[_Again confer_.[379]
KING. How dim these tapers burn! they give no light.
Here were two beauteous lamps, that could have taught
The sun to shine by day, the moon by night;
But they are dim, too, clean extinguished.
Away with these, sith those fair lights be dead!
OX. And, as I say--hark, Bruce, unto our talk--
Think you it is for love of England Louis comes?
Nay. France is not so kind; I would it were.
Advise yourselves. Hark, dost thou hear me, Bruce?
BRUCE. Oxford, I do.
OX. Can noble English hearts bear the French yoke?
No, Leicester: Richmond, think on Louis' sire,
That left you and your king in Palestine.
QUEEN. And think, beside, you know not Louis's nature,
Who may be as bad as John, or, rather, worse
Than he.
HUB. And look, my lords, upon his silent woe;
His soul is at the door of death, I know.
See how he seeks to suck, if he could draw
Poison from dead Matilda's ashy lips.
I will be sworn his very heart-string nips.
A vengeance on that slave, that cursed Brand!
I'll kill him, if I live, with this right hand.
OX. Thou canst not, Hubert; he hath kill'd himself--
But to our matter. Leicester, pray thee speak.
Young Bruce, for God's sake, let us know thy mind.
BRUCE. I would be loth to be a stranger's slave:
For England's love, I would no French king have.
LEI. Well, Oxford, if I be deceiv'd in John again,
It's 'long of you, Lord Hubert, and the queen.
Yield up the castle, Bruce: we'll once more try
King John's proceedings. Oxford, tell him so.
[OXFORD _goes to the_ KING, _does his duty,
and talks with him_.
BRUCE. I will come down. But first farewell, dear mother, [_Kiss her_.
Farewell, poor little George, my pretty brother!
Now will I shut my shambles in again:
Farewell, farewell! [_Closes the casement_.
In everlasting bliss your sweet souls dwell.
Ox. But you must mend, i' faith; in faith you must[380].
LEI. My lord, once more your subjects do submit,
Beseeching you to think how things have pass'd;
And let some comfort shine on us, your friends,
Through the bright splendour of your virtuous life.
KING. I thank you all; and, Leicester, I protest,
I will be better than I yet have been.
BRUCE. Of Windsor Castle here the keys I yield.
KING. Thanks, Bruce: forgive me, and I pray thee see
Thy mother and thy brother buried
[BRUCE _offers to kiss_ MATILDA.
In Windsor Castle church. Do, kiss her cheek:
Weep thou on that, on this side I will weep.
QUEEN. Chaste virgin, thus I crown thee with these flowers.
KING. Let us go on to Dunmow with this maid:
Among the hallow'd nuns let her be laid.
Unto her tomb a monthly pilgrimage
Doth King John vow, in penance for this wrong.
Go forward, maids; on with Matilda's hearse,
And on her tomb see you engrave this verse.
"Within this marble monument doth lie
Matilda, martyr'd for her chastity."
[_Exeunt_.
EPILOGUS.
Thus is Matilda's story shown in act,
And rough-hewn out by an uncunning hand:
Being of the most material points compact,
That with the certain'st state of truth do stand.
FINIS.
CONTENTION BETWEEN LIBERALITY AND PRODIGALITY.
_EDITION_
_A Pleasant Comedie, shewing the contention betweene Liberalitie and
Prodigalitie. As it was playd before her Maiestie. London Printed by
Simon Stafford for George Vincent, and are to be sold at the signs of
the Hand in hand in Wood-street over against S. Michaels Church_.
1602. 4to.
The copy of this play in the Garrick collection appears to be the only
one known, and from that source it is now for the first time reprinted.
Mr Collier (Hist Engl. Dram. Poetr., ii, 318) points out that there is
internal evidence, from the allusion to the 43d year of Queen Elizabeth,
that the production was performed before her Majesty in 1600; and it
seems likely that it was a revival of a more ancient piece. The writer
just quoted remarks that a play, called "Prodigality," was exhibited at
Court in 1568 (ibid. note). Philips, author of the "Theatrum Poetarum,"
in assigning it to Greene, followed either some tradition of the time or
his own whim; but he is not a trustworthy authority; and his article on
Greene is assuredly as puerile and absurd a performance as could be
imagined.
In the prologue, the writer refers to _childish years_, presumably his
own, and perhaps the "Contention" was a youthful effort. Moreover, from
the (not very appropriate) introduction of Latin terms here and there,
it is allowable to suspect that the author was preparing to graduate in
arts, if he had not done so.
THE PROLOGUE.
The proverb is, _How many men, so many minds_,
Which maketh proof how hard a thing it is,
Of sundry minds to please the sundry kinds.
In which respect I have inferred this,
That where men's minds appear so different,
No play, no part, can all alike content.
The grave Divine calls for Divinity:
The civil student for Philosophy:
The courtier craves some rare sound history:
The baser sort, for knacks of pleasantry.
So every sort desireth specially,
What thing may best content his fantasy.
But none of these our barren toy affords.
To pulpits we refer Divinity:
And matters of estate to Council boards.
As for the quirks of sage Philosophy,
Or points of squirriliting scurrility,
The one we shun, for childish years too rare,
Th'other unfit for such as present are.
But this we bring is but to serve the time,
A poor device to pass the day withal:
To loftier points of skill we dare not climb,
Lest (perking over-high) with shame we fall.
Such as doth best beseem such as we be,
Such we present, and crave your courtesy.
That courtesy, that gentleness of yours,
Which wonted is to pardon faults of ours:
Which granted, we have all that we require:
Your only favour, only our desire.
THE END OF THE PROLOGUE.
THE SPEAKERS.
THE PROLOGUE.
VANITY, _Fortune's chief servant_.
PRODIGALITY, _suitor for Money_.
POSTILION, _his servant_.
HOST.
TENACITY, _suitor for Money_.
DANDALINE, _the hostess_.
TOM TOSS.
DICK DICER.
FORTUNE.
MASTER MONEY, _her son_.
VIRTUE.
EQUITY.
LIBERALITY, _chief steward to Virtue_.
CAPTAIN WELL-DONE.
COURTIER.
LAME SOLDIER.
CONSTABLES, _with Hue and Cry_.
TIPSTAVES.
SHERIFF.
CLERK.
CRIER.
JUDGE.
EPILOGUE.
THE CONTENTION BETWEEN LIBERALITY AND PRODIGALITY.
SCENE I.
_Enter_ VANITY _solus, all in feathers_.
In words to make description of my name,
My nature or conditions, were but vain;
Sith this attire so plainly shows the same,
As showed cannot be in words more plain.
For lo, thus roundabout in feathers dight,
Doth plainly figure mine inconstancy:
As feathers, light of mind; of wit as light,
Subjected still to mutability,
And for to paint me forth more properly,
Behold each feather decked gorgeously
With colours strange in such variety,
As plainly pictures perfect vanity.
And so I am, to put you out of doubt,
Even vanity wholly; within, without:
In head, in heart: in all parts roundabout:
But whence I come, and why I hither come,
And upon whom I daily do attend,
In brief, to show you in a little sum,
My special meaning is, and so an end.
I came from Fortune, my most sovereign dame,
Amongst whose chiefest servants I am one:
Fortune, that earthly goddess great of name,
To whom all suits I do prefer alone.
She, minding in this place forthwith t'appear,
In her most gorgeous pomp and princely port,
Sends me to see all things in presence here,
Prepar'd and furnish'd in the bravest sort.
Here will she mount this stately sumptuous throne,
As she is wont to hear each man's desire:
And whoso wins her favour by his moan,
May have of her the thing he doth require.
And yet another dame there is, her enemy,
'Twixt whom remains continual emulation:
Virtue who, in respect of Fortune's sovereignty,
Is held, God wot, of simple reputation;
Yet hither comes (poor soul) in her degree,
This other seat half-forced to supply:
But 'twixt their state what difference will be,
Yourselves shall judge and witness, when you see.
Therefore I must go deck up handsomely,
What best beseems Dame Fortune's dignity.
[_Exit_.
SCENE II.
_Enter_ PRODIGALITY, POSTILION, _and_ HOST.
PROD. Postilion, stay, thou drugg'st on like an ass.
Lo, here's an inn, which I cannot well pass:
Here will we bait, and rest ourselves awhile.
POST. Why, sir, you have to go but six small mile;
The way is fair, the moon shines very bright.
Best now go on, and then rest for all night.
PROD. Tush, Postil, fair or foul, or far or near,
My weary bones must needs be rested here.
POST. 'Tis but a paltry inn, there's no good cheer;
Yet shall you pay for all things passing dear.
PROD. I care not for all that: I love mine ease.
POST. Well, sir, a God's name, then do what you please.
PROD. Knock, then, at the gate.
POST. Ho, who's at home? hostler, chamberlain, tapster?
Ho! take in gentlemen. Knave, slave, host, hostess, ho!
[_Rip, rap, rip, rap_.
What, is there none that answers? _Tout a la mort_?
Sir, you must make entrance at some other port:
For here's no passage.
PROD. No? let me come; I'll knock a little harder.
Here must I in; for sure I will no farder.
[_Rip, rap, rap, rap_.
Ho! who dwells here? [_Rip, rap, rap_]. I'll call on the women another
while. Ho! butter-wench, dairy-maid, nurse, laundress, cook, host,
hostess, anybody, ho!
HOST. Who's there?
PROD. Up, sir, with a horse night-cap! what, are ye all in a drunken
dream! can ye not hear?
POST. Not a word more! he is fast asleep again,
I fear. What, ho?
HOST. How now?
PROD. How now? now the devil take thee!
Can calling, nor knocking, nor nothing, awake thee?
HOST. Now, sir, what lack ye?
PROD. Lodging.
HOST. What are you?
PROD. Gentlemen. Seest thou not?
HOST. Whence come ye?
PROD. What skills that? open the gate.
HOST. Nay, soft a while, I am not wont so late
To take in guests. I like ye not: away.
PROD. Nay, stay awhile, mine host; I pray thee, stay,
Open the gate, I pray thee heartily,
And what we take we will pay thee royally.
HOST. And would ye have lodging then?
PROD. Yea, rather than my life.
HOST. Then stay a while; I'll first go ask my wife.
PROD. Nay, nay, send her rather to me:
If she be a pretty wench, we shall soon agree.
POST. Now a bots[381] on him and his wife both for me! [_Aside_.
HOST. Then you would have lodgings belike, sir?
PROD. Yea, I pray thee come quickly.
HOST. What's your name, and please you?
PROD. Prodigality.
HOST. And will you indeed spend lustily?
PROD. Yea, that I will.
HOST. And take that ye find patiently?
PROD. What else?
HOST. And pay what I ask willingly?
PROD. Yea, all reckonings unreasonably.
HOST. Well, go too; for this once I am content to receive ye: come on,
sir, I daresay you are almost weary.
PROP. Thou may'st swear it.
[_Exeunt_.
SCENE III.
_Enter_ VIRTUE _and_ EQUITY.
VIR. O most unhappy state of reckless humane kind!
O dangerous race of man, unwitty, fond and blind!
O wretched worldlings, subject to all misery,
When fortune is the prop of your prosperity!
Can you so soon forget, that you have learn'd of yore
The grave divine precepts, the sacred wholesome lore,
That wise philosophers with painful industry
Have[382] written and pronounc'd for man's felicity?
Whilome [it] hath been taught, that Fortune's hold is tickle;
She bears a double face, disguised, false and fickle,
Full fraughted with all sleights, she playeth on the pack;
On whom she smileth most, she turneth most to wrack.
The time hath been, when Virtue had[383] the sovereignty
Of greatest price, and plac'd in chiefest dignity;
But topsy-turvy now the world is turn'd about:
Proud Fortune is preferr'd, poor Virtue clean thrust out.
Man's sense so dulled is, so all things come to pass,
Above the massy gold t'esteem the brittle glass.
EQ. Madam, have patience, Dame Virtue must sustain,
Until the heavenly powers do otherwise ordain.
VIR. Equity, for my part, I envy not her state,
Nor yet mislike the meanness of my simple rate.
But what the heavens assign, that do I still think best:
My fame was never yet by Fortune's frown opprest:
Here, therefore, will I rest in this my homely bower,
With patience to abide the storms of every shower.
[_Exeunt_.
SCENE IV.
_Enter_ TENACITY _and_ VANITY [_severally, and not
seeing each other at first_.[384]]
TEN. By Gog's bores, these old stumps are stark tired.
Chave here roundabout for life conquired,
Where any posting nags were to be hired,
And can get none, would they were all vired![385]
Cham come too late for Money, I hold a penny,
Suitors to Fortune there are so many;
And all for Money, chill gage a round sum:
Money is gone, before Tenacity come.
Then am I dress'd even to my utter shame:
A fool return'd, like as a fool I came.
Cham sure chave come vorty miles and twenty,
With all these bags you see and wallets empty:
But when chave sued to Vortune vine and dainty,
Ich hope to vill them up with money plenty:
But here is one, of whom ich will conquire,
Whilk way che might attain to my desire.
God speed, my zon.
VAN. What, father Crust, whither post you so fast?
TEN. Nay, bur lady, zon, ich can make no haste,
Vor che may say to thee, cham tired clean.
VAN. More shame for you, to keep your ass so lean!
But whither go you now?
TEN. To a goodly lady, whom they call her Vortune.
VAN. And wherefore?
TEN. For money, zon, but ich vear che come too late.
VAN. Indeed, it seemeth by thy beggar's state,
Thou hast need of money; but let me hear,
How or by whom think'st thou to get this gear?
TEN. Chill speak her vair, chill make low cursy.
VAN. That's somewhat; but how wilt thou come at her?
TEN. Bur lady, zon, zest true; there lies the matter:
Chill make some friend.
VAN. Whom?
TEN. Some man of hers, that near her doth attend.
VAN. Who is that?
TEN. Ich know not; chud that[386] inqueer of thee:
And therefore, if thou knowest, tell it me.
VAN. What, in such haste, forsooth, so suddenly:
And so good cheap, without reward or fee?
TEN. Poor men, dear zon, must crave of courtesy:
Get I once money, thou shalt rewarded be.
VAN. Go to, then, I'll tell thee: his name is Vanity.
TEN. And where is a?
VAN. No more ado: ask but for Vanity.
Reward him well, he'll help thee to money.
TEN. But where?
VAN. Why, here in this place: this is Lady Fortune's palace.
TEN. Is this? Ah, goodly Lord, how gay it is!
Now hope I sure of money not to miss.
So law, my zon, ich will go rest myself a while,
And come again. [_Exit_.
VAN. Do so. Now sure this coistrel makes me smile,
To see his greedy gaping thus for gain,
First hardly got, then kept with harder pain,
As you ere long by proof shall see full plain.
TEN. This is mine old inn; here chill knock. Holla, ho!
HOST. What roister have we there, that rappeth so?
POST. How now, sirrah, what lack you?
TEN. Lodging.
POST. Lodging? there is none: all is full.
TEN. How so?
POST. Ta'en up by gentlemen long ago.
TEN. Let me yet have some room for mine ass.
POST. _Asinus super asinum, volitate ad furtas_!
HOST. Who is that thou pratest therewithal?
POST. Look forth and see: a lubber, fat, great and tall,
Upon a tired ass, bare, short and small.
HOST. Ho, ho! 'tis Tenacity, my old acquaintance.
And to my wife of near alliance.
Father Tenacity!
TEN. Mine host, God speed!
How do you? Take in, ostler.
OSTLER. Anon, sir.
HOST. Chamberlain, wait upon my kindred here.
CHAM. I will, sir.
SCENE V.
_Enter_ MONEY _and_ VANITY.
_The Song_.
MON. _As light as a fly,
In pleasant jollity:
With mirth and melody,
Sing Money, Money, Money!
Money the minion, the spring of all joy;
Money, the medicine that heals each annoy;
Money, the jewel that man keeps in store;
Money, the idol that women adore!
That Money am I, the fountain of bliss,
Whereof whoso tasteth, doth never amiss.
Money, money, money!
Sing Money, Money, Money_!
VAN. What, Money, sing you so lustily?
MON. I have none other cause: who would not sing merrily,
Being, as I am, in such felicity:
The God of this world, so mighty of power,
As makes men, and mars men, and all in an hour?
Yea, where I am, is all prosperity,
And where I want, is nought but misery.
VAN. Money saith reason; for so doth it fare,
Money makes masteries, old proverbs declare.
But, Money, of Fortune, our sovereign dame,
What news?
MONEY. Marry, sir, of purpose I hither came,
To let thee know she will forthwith be here:
And lo! already, see, she doth appear.
VAN. 'Tis true; now must I show my diligence.
Down, ladies, stoop: do your reverence.
SCENE VI.
_Enter_ FORTUNE, _in her chariot drawn with Kings.
The Song.
Reverence, do reverence; fair dames, do reverence
Unto this goddess great, do humble reverence:
Do humble reverence.
Fortune, of-worldly state the governess:
Fortune, of man's delight the mistress:
Fortune, of earthly bliss the patroness:
Fortune, the spring of joy and happiness.
Lo, this is she, with twinkling of her eye,
That misers[387] can advance to dignity,
And princes turn to misers' misery.
Reverence, due reverence_.
FOR. Report hath spread, that Virtue here in place
Arrived is, her silly court to hold;
And therefore I am come with faster pace,
T'encounter her, whose countenance is so bold.
I doubt not but by this my pompous shew,
By vestures wrought with gold so gorgeously:
By reverence done to me of high and low:
By all these ornaments of bravery,
By this my train, that now attends me so:
By kings, that hale my chariot to and fro,
Fortune is known the queen of all renown:
That makes, that mars; sets up and throws adown.
Well is it known, what contrary effects
'Twixt Fortune and dame Virtue hath been wrought:
How still I her contemn, she me rejects;
I her despise, she setteth me at nought:
So, as great wars are grown for sovereignty,
And strife as great 'twixt us for victory.
Now is the time of trial to be had,
The place appointed eke in presence here.
So as the truth to all sorts, good and bad,
More clear than light shall presently appear.
It shall be seen, what Fortune's power can do,
When Virtue shall be forc'd to yield thereto.
It shall be seen, when Virtue cannot bide,
But shrink for shame, her silly face to hide.
Then Fortune shall advance herself before,
All harms to help, all losses to restore.
But why do I myself thus long restrain
From executing this I do intend?
Time posts away, and words they be but vain;
For deeds (indeed) our quarrel now must end.
Therefore in place I will no longer stay
But to my stately throne myself convey.
_Reverence, due reverence, &c_.
ACT II, SCENE I.
_Enter_ LIBERALITY.
How seldom is it seen, that Virtue is regarded,
Or men of virtuous sort for virtuous deeds rewarded!
So wonts the world to pamper those that nought deserve,
Whiles such as merit best, without relief do starve.
Great imperfections are in some of greatest skill,
That colours can discern [not], white from black, good from ill.
O blind affects of men, how are you led awry,
To leave assured good, to like frail Vanity!
If some of Virtue's train, for prince and country's good,
To show their faithful hearts, shall hazard life and blood,
And guerdonless depart, without their due reward,
Small is th'encouragement, the example very hard.
Where any well deserve, and are rewarded well,
Where prince and people both in safety sure do dwell,
Where he that truly serves, hath nothing for his pain,
More hearts are lost, than pecks of gold can ransom home again.
Let states therefore, that wish to maintain stately dignity,
Seek to acquaint themselves with Liberality;
For that is it which wins the subjects' faithful love,
Which faithful love all harms from them and theirs remove.
Liberality am I, Virtue's steward here,
Who for the virtuous sort do nothing hold too dear.
But few to Virtue seek: all sorts to Fortune fly,
There seeking to maintain their chief prosperity.
But whoso marks the end, shall be enforc'd to say:
O Fortune, thou art blind! let Virtue lead the way.
But who comes here? It seemeth, old Tenacity.
I must away; for contraries cannot agree.
[_Exit_.
SCENE II.
_Enter_ TENACITY.
TEN. Well, since che see there is none other boot,
Chill now take pains to go the rest afoot;
For Brock mine ass is saddle-pinch'd vull sore,
And so am I even here--chill say no more.
But yet I must my business well apply,
For which ich came, that is, to get money.
Chwas told that this is Lady Vortune's place:
Chill go boldly to her, that's a vlat case;
Vor, if che speed not now at this first glance,
Cham zure to be dash'd quite out of countenance
By certain lusty gallon lads hereby,
Seeking Vortune's favour as well as I.
O, knew I where to find Mast. Fanity,
Vortune's servant! Of mine honesty,
Look where he comes in time as fine and trim,
As if che held him all this while by the chin.
SCENE III.
VANITY _and_ TENACITY.
VAN. 'Tis he indeed: what say you to him?
TEN. Marry, sir, cham now come for money.
VAN. For money, man? what, still so hastily?
TEN. Yea[388], by gis, sir, 'tis high time, che vore ye;
Cham aveard another will ha' 't afore me.
VAN. Why so? who is it thou fearest? tell me.
TEN. Marry, sir, they call him Mast. Prodigality.
VAN. Prodigality, is it true? young, wasteful, roisting Prodigality,
To encounter old, sparing, covetous, niggard Tenacity?
Sure, such a match as needs must yield us sport:
Therefore, until the time that Prodigality resort,
I'll entertain this crust with some device-- [_aside_.
Well, father, to be sped of money with a trice,
What will you give me?
TEN. Cha vore thee, son, do rid me quickly hence,
Chill give thee a vair piece of three-halfpence.