Enter SKINK.

[SKINK.] I'll fain unto my cell, to my fair lady; But John and Fauconbridge are at my heels; [Sees John. And some odd mate is got into my gown, And walks devoutly like my counterfeit. I cannot stay to question with you now, I have another gown and all things fit, These guests once rid, new mate, I'll bum,[513] I'll mark you. [Exit.

GLOS. What's he, a God's name? he is quickly gone. I am for him, were he Robin Goodfellow. Who's yonder, the Prince John and Fauconbridge? I think they haunt me like my genii, One good, the other ill; by the mass, they pry, And look upon me but suspiciously.

JOHN. This is not Skink; the hermit is not Skink. He is a learned, reverend, holy man;

FAU. He is, he is a very godly man; I warrant ye, he's at his book at's prayers. We should have took you, by my halidom, Even for a very thief.

GLO. Now God forfend Such noblemen as you should guess me so! I never gave such cause, for ought I know.

JOHN. Yet thou did'st tell us Skink should do a robbery, Appointed us the place, and there we found him.

FAU. And he felt us, for he hath robb'd us both.

GLO. He's a lewd fellow; but he shall be taken.

JOHN. I had rather hear of Gloster than of him.

GLO. Gloster did cheat him of the same gold chain, That deceiv'd Sir Richard Fauconbridge. He got your sword, Prince John: 'twas he that sav'd The porter, and beguil'd the pursuivant.

JOHN. A vengeance on him!

GLO. Do not curse, good prince; He's bad enough, 'twere better pray for him.

JOHN. I'll kill thee, and thou bid us pray for him, I'll fell [the] woods, and ring thee round with fire, Make thee an offering unto fierce revenge, If thou have but a thought to pray for him.

GLO. I am bound to pray for[514] all men, chiefly Christians.

JOHN. Ha, ha, for Christians? think'st thou he is one? For men? hast thou opinion he is a man? He that changes himself to sundry shapes, Is he a Christian? can he be a man? O irreligious thoughts!

GLO. Why, worthy prince, I saw him christened, dipp'd into the font.

JOHN. Then nine times, like the northern Laplanders, He backward circled the sacred font, And nine times backward said his orisons: As often curs'd the glorious host of heaven, As many times invok'd the fiends of hell, And so turn'd witch; for Gloster is a witch.

GLO. Have patience, gentle prince; he shall appear Before your kingly father speedily.

JOHN. Shall he indeed? sweet comfort, kiss thy cheek; Peace circle in thy aged honoured head. When he is taken, hermit, I protest I'll build thee up a chapel and a shrine: I'll have thee worshipp'd as a man divine, Assure [ye] he shall come, and Skink shall come.

FAU.[515] Aye, that same Skink; I prythee, send that Skink.

JOHN. Send both; and both, as prisoners criminate. Shall forfeit their lost[516] lives to England's state, Which way will Fauconbridge?

FAU. Over the water, and So with all speed I may to Stepney.

JOHN. I must to Stepney too, and revel, and be blithe, Old [Knight], wink at my mirth; 't may make amends, So thou and I, and our friends, may be friends.

FAU. With all my heart, with all my heart, Prince [John], Old Fauconbridge will wait upon your grace. Be good to Gloster, for my Marian's sake, And me and mine you shall your servants make.

GLO. Of that anon: my pleasure being serv'd, Gloster shall have what Gloster hath deserv'd.

FAU. Why, that's well said; adieu, good honest hermit. [Exit.

JOHN. Hermit, farewell, if I had my desire, I'll make the world thy wondrous deeds admire. [Exit.

GLO. Still good, still passing good; Gloster is still Henry's true hate, foe to John's froward will, No more of that: for them in better time. If this same hermit be an honest man, He will protect me by his[517] simple life; If not, I care not; I'll be ever Gloster, Make him my footstool, if he be a slave, For baseness over worth can have no power. Robin, bethink thee, thou art come from kings, Then scorn to be [a] slave to underlings, Look well about thee, lad, and thou shalt see Them burst in envy, that would injure thee. Hermit, I'll meet you in your hermit's gown, Honest, I'll love you: worse, I'll knock you down. [Exit.



SCENE THE TWENTY-EIGHTH.

Enter PRINCE RICHARD, with music.

P. RICH. Kind friends, we have troubled Lady Fauconbridge, And either she's not willing to be seen, Or else not well, or with our boldness griev'd, To ease these, I have brought you to this window, Knowing you are in music excellent. I have penn'd a ditty here, and I desire You would sing it for her love and my content.

MUS. With all my heart, my lord.

Enter ROBIN HOOD, like the LADY [FAUCONBRIDGE].

ROB. Your excellence forgets your princely worth; If I may humbly crave it at your hands, Let me desire this music be dismiss'd.

RICH. Forbear, I pray, and withdraw yourselves; Be not offended, gracious Marian. [Exeunt music. Under the upper heaven nine goodly spheres Turn with a motion ever, musical; In palaces of kings melodious sounds Offer pleasures to their sovereigns ears. In temples, milk-white-clothed quiristers Sing sacred anthems, bowing to the shrine; And in the fields whole quires of winged clerks Salute the[518] morning bright and crystalline. Then blame not me; you are my heaven, my queen: My saint, my comfort, brighter than the morn. To you all music and all praise is due; For your delight, for you,[519] delight was born. The world would have no mirth, no joy, no day, If from the world your beauty were away.

ROB. Fie on love's blasphemy and forgery, To call that joy[520] that's only misery! I, that am wedded to suspicious age, Solicited by your lascivious youth; I, that have [only] one poor comfort living— Gloster my brother, my high-hearted brother— He flies for fear, lest he should faint, and fall Into the hands of hate tyrannical.

RICH. What would you I should do?

ROB. I would full fain My brother Gloster had his peace again.

RICH. Shall love be my reward, if I do bring A certain token of his good estate, And after pacify my brother's wrath? Say you will love, he[521] will be fortunate!

ROB. I will.

RICH. No more; I vow to die unblest If I perform not this imposed quest. But one word, madam; pray, can you tell Where Huntington my ward is?

ROB. I was bold To send young Robin Hood, your noble ward, Upon some business of import for me.

RICH. I am glad he is employed in your affairs; Farewell, kind fair; let [not] one cloudy frown Shadow the bright sun of thy beauty's light: Be confident in this—I'll find thy brother, Raise power but he'll[522] have peace: only perform Your gracious promise at my back-return.

ROB. Well, here's my hand, Prince Richard; that same night, Which secondeth the day of your return, I'll be your bed-fellow, and from that hour Forswear the loathed bed of Fauconbridge: Be speedy, therefore, as you hope to speed.

RICH. O that I were as large-winged as the wind, Then should you see my expeditious will. My most desire, adieu! guess by my haste Of your sweet promise the delicious taste. [Exit.

ROB. Why so: I am rid of him by this device, He would else have tired me with his songs and sighs.[523]

Enter BLOCK.

But now I shall have ease; here comes the saint, To whom such suit was made.

BLO. My lady gentlewoman is even here in her privity-walk. Madam, here's the merchant's wife was here yesterday would speak with ye. O, I was somewhat bold to bring her in.

Enter LADY FAUCONBRIDGE, disguised as a merchant's wife.

ROB. Well, leave us, sir; y'are welcome, gentlewoman.

BLO. These women have no liberality in the world in them; I never let in man to my lady, but I am rewarded.

ROB. Please ye to walk, sir! wherefore mumble ye?

[Exit BLOCK.

LADY F. Robin, what news? how hast thou done this night?

ROB. My ladyship hath done my part, my task, Lain all alone for lack of company, I might have had Prince Richard.

LADY F. Was he here!

ROB. He went away but now; I have been lov'd and woo'd too simply, God rid me of the woman once again; I'll not be tempted so for all the world. Come, will you to your chamber, and uncase?

LADY F. Nay, keep my habit yet a little while, Old Fauconbridge is almost at the gate, I met him at Blackheath just at the hermit's, And, taking me to be a merchant's wife, Fell mightily in love, gave me his ring, Made me protest that I would meet him here. I told him of his lady—O, tut, quoth he, I'll shake her up, I'll pack her out of sight. He comes; kind Robin Hood, hold up the jest.

Enter SIR RICHARD FAUCONBRIDGE and BLOCK, talking together.

FAU. God's marry, knave, how long hath she been here?

BLO. Sir, she came but even in afore you.

FAU. A cunning quean, a very cunning quean, Go to your business, Block; I'll meet with her.

BLO. Ah, old muttonmonger, I believe here's work towards. [Exit.

FAU. [seeing the merchant's wife]. Do not believe her. Moll, do not believe her, I only spake a word or two in jest, But would not for the world have been so mad; Do not believe her, Moll, do not believe her.

ROB. What should I not believe? what do you mean?

LADY F. Why, good Sir Richard, let me speak with you. Alas, will you undo me? will you shame me? Is this your promise? came I here for this? To be a laughing-stock unto your lady?

ROB. How now, Sir Richard, what's the matter there?

FAU. I'll talk with you anon; come hither, woman. Did'st [thou] not tell my wife what match we made?

LADY F. I tell your wife? think ye I am such a beast? Now God forgive ye; I am quite undone.

FAU. Peace, duck; peace, duck; I warrant all is well. [Aside.

Rob. What's the matter? I pray ye, Sir Richard, tell me!

FAU. Marry, Moll, thus—about some twelve month since, Your brother Gloster, that mad prodigal, Caus'd me to pass my word unto her husband For some two thousand pounds, or more perchance— No matter what it is, you shall not know, Nay, ye shall never ask to know.

ROB. And what of this?

FAU. Many, the man's decayed, And I believe a little thing would please her; A very little thing, a thing of nothing. Go in, good Moll, and leave us two alone, I'll deal with ye as simply as I can.

LADY F. Fox, look about ye, ye are caught, i'faith.

ROB. Deal with her simply! O, O, what kind of dealing? Can ye not deal with her, and I be by?

FAU. Marry a God, what, are ye jealous? Ye teach me what to do? in, get you in. O, I have heard Prince Richard was your guest, How dwelt you then? In, get you in, I say. Must I take care about your brother's debts, And you stand crossing me? In, or I'll send you in. [Exit ROBIN. Ha, sirrah; you'll be master, you'll wear the yellow,[524] You'll be an over-seer? marry, shall ye!

LADY F. Ye are too curst (methinks, sir) to your lady.

FAU. Ah, wench, content thee, I must bear her hard, Else she'll be prying[525] into my dalliance. I am an old man, sweet girl; I must be merry: All steel, all spright: keep in health by change; Men may be wanton, women must not range.

LADY F. You have given good counsel, sir; I'll repent me. Here is your ring; I'll only love my husband.

FAU. I mean not so, I think to-day thou told'st me Thy husband was an unthrift and a bankrupt. And he be so, tut, thou hast favour store; Let the knave beg, beauty cannot be poor.

LADY F. Indeed my husband is a bankrupt— Of faith, of love, of shame, of chastity, Dotes upon other women more than me.

FAU. Ha! do he so? then give him tit for tat, Have one so young and fair, and loves another? He's worthy to be cuckolded, by the mass! What is he, old or young?

LADY F. About your age.

FAU. An old knave, And cannot be content with such a peat! Come to my closet, girl, make much of me; We'll appoint a meeting-place some twice a week, And I'll maintain thee like a lady, ha!

LADY F. O, but you will forget me presently, When you look well upon your lady's beauty.

FAU. Who? upon her? why, she is a very dowdy, A dishclout, a foul gipsy unto thee. Come to my closet, lass, there take thy earnest Of love, of pleasure, and good maintenance.

LADY F. I am very fearful.

FAU. Come, fool, never fear. I am lord here, who shall disturb us then? Nay, come, or, by the rood, I'll make you come.

LADY F. Help, Madam Fauconbridge, for God's sake.

Enter ROBIN HOOD as LADY FAUCONBRIDGE, and BLOCK.

FAU. How now, what mean'st?

LADY F. Help, gentle madam, help!

ROB. How now, what ail'st thou?

BLOCK. Nay, and't be a woman: ne'er fear my master, madam.

ROB[526]. Why speak'st thou not, what ail'st thou?

FAU. Why, nothing, by the rood, nothing she ails.

LADY F. O madam, this vile man would have abused me, And forc'd me to his closet.

ROB. Ah, old Cole,[527] now look about: you are catcht!

LADY F. Call in your fellows, Block.

FAU. Do not, thou knave.

LADY F. Do, or I'll crack your crown.

BLO. Nay, I'll do't: I know she means to shame you. [Exit.

FAU. Why, Moll, wilt thou believe this paltry woman? Huswife, I'll have you whipp'd for sland'ring me.

ROB. What, lecher? no, she is an honest woman: Her husband's well known; all the household knows.

BLO. Here's some now to tell all the town your mind.

LADY F. Before ye all I must [now] sure complain. You see this wicked man, and ye all know How oft he hath been jealous of my life: Suspecting falsehood, being false himself.

BLO. O master, O master.

FAU. She slanders me; she is a cozening quean. Fetch me the constable: I'll have her punish'd.

LADY F. The constable for me? fie, fie upon ye. Madam, do you know this ring?

ROB. It is Sir Richard's.

BLO. O, aye, that's my master's, too [—too] sure.

FAU. Ay, marry, I did lend it to the false drab To fetch some money for that bankrupt knave, Her husband, that lies prisoner in the Fleet.

LADY F. My husband bankrupt? my husband in the Fleet prisoner? No, no, he is as good a man as you.

ROB. Ay, that he is, and can spend pound for pound With thee, i'faith, wert richer than thou art. I know the gentleman.

LADY F. Nay, madam, he is Hard by: there must be revels at the Hind tonight; Your copesmate's there—Prince John.

ROB. There's a hot youth!

BLO. O, a fierce gentleman!

LADY F. He was fierce as you; but I have match'd him: The princess shall be there in my attire.

FAU. A plaguy, crafty quean, marry a God, I see Prince John courted as well as I; And since he shall be mock'd as well as I, It's some contentment.

BLO. Mass, he droops. Fellow Humphrey, he is almost taken, Look about ye, old Richard. [Aside.

FAU. Hence, knaves; get in a little. Prythee, Moll, Let thou and I, and she, shut up this matter.

ROB. Away, sirs; get in.

BLO. Come, come, Let's go; he will be baited now. Farewell. [Exit BLOCK.

FAU. Marry, sweet Moll, I say, I met this woman; Lik'd her, lov'd her; For she is worthy love, I promise thee. I say, I courted her: tut, make no brawl, 'Twixt thou and I we'll have amends for all.

ROB. Had I done such a trick, what then? what then?

FAU. Ah prythee, Moll, tut, bear with men.

ROB. Aye, we must bear with you; you'll be excus'd, When women undeserved are abus'd.

FAU. Nay, do not weep: pardon me, gentle lady; I know thee virtuous, and I do protest Never to have an evil thought of thee.

ROB. Aye, aye, ye swear; who's that that will believe ye?

FAU. Now, by my halidom and honest faith, This gentlewoman shall witness what I swear. Sweet duck, a little help me.

LADY F. Trust him, madam.

FAU. I will be kind, credulous, constant ever, Do what thou wilt, I'll be suspicious never.

ROB. For which I thank [the] noble Fauconbridge. [Discovers himself.

FAU. Body of me, who's this? young Huntington?

LADY F. And I your lady, whom you courted last, [Discovers herself. Ye looked about you ill, fox; we have caught ye; I met ye at Blackheath, and ye were hot.

FAU. I knew thee, Moll; now, by my sword, I knew thee. I wink'd at all; I laughed at every jest.

ROB. Aye, he did wink; the blind man had an eye.[528]

FAU. Peace, Robin, thou't once be a man as I.

LADY F. Well, I must bear it all.

FAU. Come, and ye bear, It's but your office; come, forget, sweet Moll.

LADY. F. I do forgive it, and forget it, sir.

FAU. Why, that's well said; that's done like a good girl. Ha, sirrah, ha, you match'd me, pretty earl.

ROB. I have, ye see, sir; I must unto Blackheath In quest of Richard, whom I sent to seek Earl Gloster out. I know he's at the hermit's. Lend me your coach; I'll shift me, as I ride; Farewell, Sir Richard. [Exit.

FAU. Farewell, England's pride. By the matins, Moll, it is a pretty child; Shall we go meet John? shall we go mock the prince?

LADY F. We will.

FAU. O, then we shall have sport anon. Never wear yellow, Moll; 'twas but a trick; Old Fauconbridge will still be a mad Dick.

[Exeunt.



SCENE THE TWENTY-NINTH.

Enter REDCAP and GLOSTER.

RED. Do ye s-s-say, fa-fa-father hermit, th-that Gl-Gloster is about this heath?

GLO. He is upon this heath, son; look about it. Run but the compass, thou shalt find him out.

RED. R-r-run? I'll r-run the co-compass of all K-Kent but I'll f-find him out; my f-f-father (where'er he lays his head) dare ne-never come home, I know, t-t-till he be fo-fo-found.

GLO. Well, thou shalt find him. Know'st thou who's a-hunting?

RED. M-m-marry, 'tis the Earls of La-La-Lancaster and Le-Leicester, Fa-fa-farewell, f-father; and I find Skink or Glo-Gloster, I'll g-g-give thee the pr-price of a penny p-p-pudding for thy p-pains. [Exit.

GLO. Adieu, good friend: this is sure the fellow I sent on message from the Parl'ament— The porter's son—he's still in quest of me, And Skink, that cosen'd him of his red cap!

Enter RICHARD, like a Serving-man.

But look about thee, Gloster; who comes yonder? O, a plain serving-man, and yet perhaps His bags are lin'd, And my purse now grows thin: If he have any, I must share with him.

Enter SKINK, like a Hermit.

And who's on yond side? O, it is my hermit; Hath got his other suit, since I went forth.

SKINK. Sblood, yonder's company; I'll back again, Else I would be with you counterfeit; I'll leave the rogue till opportunity, But never eat, till I have quit my wrong. [Exit.

RICH. I saw two men attend like holy hermits; One's slipp'd away, the other's at his beads. Now, Richard, for the love of Marian, Make thy inquire, where mad Gloster lives. If England or the verge of Scotland hold him, I'll seek him thus disguis'd. If he be pass'd To any foreign part, I'll follow him. Love, thou art Lord of hearts; thy laws are sweet; In every troubled way thou guid'st our feet. Lovers, enjoin'd to pass the dangerous sea Of big-swoll'n sorrow in the bark Affection, The winds and waves of woe need never fear, While Love the helm doth, like a pilot, steer.

GLO. Here's some lover come, a mischief on him! I know not how to answer these mad fools; But I'll be brief; I'll mar the hermit's tale. Off, gown; hold, buckler; slice it, Bilbo' blade.

RICH. What's this? what should this mean? old man, good friend.

GLO. Young fool, deliver; else see your end.

RICH. I thought thou hadst been holy and a hermit.

GLO. Whate'er you thought, your purse! come, quickly, sir; Cast that upon the ground, and then confer.

RICH. There it is.

GLO. Falls it so heavy? then my heart is light.

RICH. Thou'lt have a heavy heart before thou touch it. Theft shrin'd in holy weeds, stand to't, y'are best.

GLO. And if I do not, seeing such a prey, Let this be to me a disaster day.

RICH. Art thou content to breathe?

[Fight and part once or twice.

GLO. With all my heart. Take half thy money, and we'll friendly part.

RICH. I will not cherish theft.

GLO. Then I defy thee.

[Fight again and breathe.

RICH. Alas for pity, that so stout a man, So reverend in aspect, should take this course.

GLO. This is no common man with whom I fight, And if he be, he is of wond'rous spright. [Aside. Shall we part stakes?

RICH. Fellow, take The purse upon condition thou wilt follow me.

GLO. What, wait on you? wear a turn'd livery, Whose man's your master? If I be your man, My man's man's office will be excellent! There lies your purse again; win it and wear it. [Fight.

Enter ROBIN HOOD. They breathe, offer again.

ROB. Clashing of weapons at my welcome hither? Bick'ring upon Blackheath. Well-said, old man; I'll take thy side, the younger hath the odds. Stay, end your quarrel, or I promise ye I'll take the old man's part.

RICH. You were not wont. Young Huntington; [be] still on Richard's side.

ROB. Pardon, gracious prince; I knew ye not.

GLO. Prince Richard? then lie, envy, at his foot. Pardon thy cousin Gloster, valiant lord. I knew no common force confronted mine.

RICH[529]. O heaven, I had the like conceit of thine, I tell thee, Robin, Gloster, thou art met, Bringing such comfort unto Richard's heart: As in the foil of war, when dust and sweat, The thirst of wreak[530], and the sun's fiery heat, Have seized upon the soul of valiance, And he must faint, except he be refresh'd. To me thou com'st, as if to him should come A perry[531] from the north, whose frosty breath Might fan him coolness in that doubt[532] of death. With me then meet'st, as he a spring might meet, Cooling the earth under his toil-parch'd feet, Whose crystal moisture, in his helmet ta'en, Comforts his spirits, makes him strong again.

GLO. Prince, in short terms, if you have brought me comfort, Know, if I had my pardon in this hand, That smit base Skink in open Parl'ament, I would not come to Court, till the high feast Of your proud brother's birthday be expired, For as the old king—as he made a vow At his unlucky coronation, [that I] Must wait upon the boy and fill his cup, And all the peers must kneel, while Henry kneels, Unto his cradle—he shall hang me up, Ere I commit that vile idolatry. But when the feast is pass'd, if you'll befriend me, I'll come and brave my proud foes to their teeth.

RICH. Come, Robin; and if my brother's grace deny, I'll take thy part, them and their threats defy.

GLO. Gramercy, princely Dick.

ROB. I have some pow'r: I can raise two thousand soldiers in an hour.

GLO. Gramercy, Robin; gramercy, little wag, Prince Richard, pray let Huntington Carry my sister Fauconbridge this ring.

RICH. I'll carry it myself; but I had rather Had thy kind company; thou might'st have mov'd Thy sister, whom I long have vainly lov'd.

GLO. I like her that she shuns temptation, Prince Richard; but I bear with doting lovers. I should not take it well, that you urge me To such an office: but I bear with you. Love's blind and mad. Hie to her boldly: try her; But if I know she yield, faith, I'll defy her.

RICH. I like thy honourable resolution; Gloster, I pray thee pardon my intreat.

GLO. It is men's custom: part, part, gentle prince, Farewell, good Robin, this gold I will borrow; Meet you at Stepney, pay you all to-morrow.

ROB. Adieu, Gloster. [Exit ROBIN.

GLO. Farewell, be short. You gone, I hope to have a little sport.

RICH. Take heed, mad coz.

GLO. Tut, tell not me of heed: [Exit RICHARD. He that's too wary[533] never hath good speed.



SCENE THE THIRTIETH.

Hollooing within; enter LANCASTER with a broken staff in his hand.

[GLO.] Who's this? old Lancaster, my honour'd friend?

LAN. These knaves have serv'd me well, left me alone, I have hunted fairly, lost my purse, my chain, My jewels, and been bang'd by a bold knave, Clad in a hermit's gown, like an old man— O what a world is this?

GLO. It's ill, my lord.

LAN. He's come again! O knave, 'tis the worse for thee: [Mistakes GLOSTER for the HERMIT. Keep from me: be content with that thou hast, And see thou fly this heath, for, if I take thee, I'll make thee to all thieves a spectacle. Had my staff held, thou hadst not 'scap'd me so. But come not near me, fellow, thou art not[534] best, Holla, Earl Leicester! holla, huntsmen, ho!

GLO. Upon my life, old Lancaster, a-hunting, Hath met my fellow-hermit. Could I meet him, I'd play [at] rob-thief, at least part stakes with him.

Enter SKINK as a hermit.

SKINK. Zounds, he is yonder alone.

Enter REDCAP with a cudgel.

SKINK. Now revenge thyself on yonder slave[535], 'Snails, still prevented? this same Redcap rogue Runs like hob goblin up and down the heath.

RED. Wh-wh-wh-whoop, he-hermit, ye ha-ha-ma-ma-made Re-Redcap run a fine co-co-compass, ha-have you not?

SKINK. I made thee run?

GLO. Yonder's my evil angel. Were Redcap gone, Gloster would conjure him.

RED. Je-Je-Jesus bl-bless me, whoop! t-t-two hermits? I'll ca-ca-caperclaw t-t-t'one of ye, for mo-mo-mocking me, and I d-d-do not ha-ha-hang me. Wh-wh-which is the fa-fa-false k-k-k-knave? for I am s-s-sure the old he-he-hermit wo-would never mo-mock an honest man.

GLO. He is the counterfeit; he mock'd thee, fellow. I did not see thee in my life before, He wears my garments, and has cosened me.

RED. Have you co-co-cosened the he-he-hermit and m-made Redcap run to no pu-pu-purpose?

SKINK. No, he's [a] counterfeit; I will tell no lies, As sure as Skink deceiv'd thee of thy clothes, Sent thee to Kent, gave thee thy fare by water, So sure, he's false, and I the perfect hermit.

GLO. This villain is a conjuror, I doubt, Were he the devil, yet I would not budge.

RED. Si-si-sirrah, you are the co-counterfeit. O, this is the tr-tr-true he-hermit. Sta-sta-stand still, g-good man, at that, I'll bu-bumbast you i'faith, I'll make you g-give the old m-m-man his gown.

[Offers to strike; GLOSTER trips up his heels; shifts SKINK into his place.

G-G-God's lid, are ye go-good at that? I'll cu-cudgel ye f-f-for the tr-tr-trick.

SKINK. It was not I; 'twas he, that cast thee down.

RED. You li-li-li-lie, you ra-ra-rascal, you; I le-left ye st-standing he-here.

SKINK. Zounds, hold, you stammerer, or I'll cut your stumps.

GLO. He is for me; he's weapon'd—I like that!

RED. O, here's a ro-ro-rogue in-ca-ca-carnate, help, mu-murder, murder.

Enter LANCASTER and HUNTSMEN at one door, LEICESTER and HUNTSMEN at another.

LAN. Lay hold upon that thievish counterfeit.

LEI. Why, here's another hermit, Lancaster:

GLO. I am the hermit, sir; that wretched man Doth many a robbery in my disguise:

SKINK. It's he that robs; he slanders me; he lies.

LAN. Which set on thee?

RED. Th-this f-f-fellow has a s-s-sword and a buckler.

LAN. Search him; this is the thief; O, here's my purse, My chain, my jewels! O thou wicked wretch, How dar'st thou, under show of holiness, Commit such actions of impiety? Bind him, I'll have him made a public scorn.

SKINK. Lay hold upon that other hermit; He is a counterfeit as well as I. He stole those clothes from me; for I am Skink. Search him, I know him not, he is some slave.

GLO. Thou liest, base varlet.

RED. O G-God, he has a sword too. Skink, are you ca-catcht?

LAN. Villain, thou shalt with me unto the Court.

LEI. And this with me; this is the traitor Gloster.

GLO. Thou liest, proud Leicester; I am no traitor,

RED. G-Gloster? O b-brave, now m-my father sh-shall be f-free.

LAN. Earl Gloster, I am sorry thou art taken.

GLO. I am not taken yet, nor will I yield To any here but noble Lancaster. Let Skink be Leicester's prisoner; I'll be thine.

LEI. Thou shalt be mine.

GLO. First, through a crimson sluice, I'll send thy hated soul to those black fiends, That long have hovered gaping for their part, When tyrant life should leave thy traitor heart! Come, Lancaster, keep Skink; I'll go with thee. Let loose the mad knave, for I praise his shifts. He shall not start away; I'll be his guide, And with proud looks outface young Henry's pride.

LEI. Look to them, Lancaster, upon thy life.

RED. Well, I'll r-run and get a p-pardon of the k-k-k-king, Gl-Gloster and Skink ta-ta-taken! O b-b-brave, r-r-r-run, Re-Re-Redca-cap, a-and ca-ca-carry the first n-n-news to Co-Co-Court.

LEI. Lancaster, I'll help to guard them to the Court.

LAN. Do as you please.

GLO. Leicester, do not come near me; For, if thou do, thou shalt buy it dearly.

LEI. I'll have thy hand for this.

GLO. Not for thy heart.

SKINK. Brave Earl, had Skink known thou hadst been the noble Gloster (whose mad tricks have made me love thee), I would have dyed Blackheath red with the blood of millions, ere we would have been taken; but what remedy? we are fast, and must answer it like gentlemen, like soldiers, like resolutes.

GLO. Aye, ye are a gallant. Come, old Lancaster. For thy sake will I go, or else, by heaven, I'd send some dozen of these slaves to hell.



SCENE THE THIRTY-FIRST.

Enter PRINCE RICHARD, ROBIN HOOD, and LADY FAUCONBRIDGE.

LADY F. Your travail and your comfortable news: This ring, the certain sign you met with him: Binds me in duteous love unto your grace; But on my knees I fall, and humbly crave Importune that no more you ne'er can have.

RICH. Nay, then, ye wrong me, Lady Fauconbridge, Did you not join your fair white hands, Swore that ye would forswear your husband's bed, [And] if I could but find out Gloster?

LADY F. I swear so!

RICH. [Yes,] by heaven.

ROB. Take heed; it's an high oath, my lord.

RICH. What meanest thou, Huntington?

ROB. To save your soul; I do not love to have my friends forsworn, She never promis'd, that you urge her with.

RICH. Go to; provoke me not.

ROB. I tell you true; 'Twas I in her attire that promis'd you. She was gone unto the wizard at Blackheath, And there had suitors more than a good many.

RICH. Was I deluded then?

LADY F. No, not deluded; But hind'red from desire unchaste and rude. O, let me woo ye with the tongue of ruth, Dewing your princely hand with pity's tears, That you would leave this most unlawful suit, If e'er we live, till Fauconbridge be dead, (As God defend his death I should desire). Then, if your highness deign so base a match, And holy laws admit a marriage, Considering our affinity in blood, I will become your handmaid, not your harlot— That shame shall never dwell upon my brow.

ROB. I'faith, my lord, she's honourably resolv'd, For shame, no more; importune her no more.

RICH. Marian, I see thy virtue, and commend it; I know my error, seeking thy dishonour, But the respectless, reasonless command Of my inflamed love, bids me still try, And trample under foot all piety; Yet, for I will not seem too impious, Too inconsiderate of thy seeming grief, Vouchsafe to be my mistress: use me kindly. And I protest I'll strive with all my power, That lust himself may in his heat devour.

LADY F. You are my servant, then.

RICH. Thanks, sacred mistress.

ROB. What am I?

LADY F. You are my fellow Robert.

Enter FAUCONBRIDGE in his hose and doublet.

FAU. What, Prince Richard? noble Huntington? Welcome, i'faith, welcome! by the morrow mass! You are come as fitly as my heart can wish. Prince John this night will be a reveller, He hath invited me and Marian, God's marry mother, go along with us, It's but hard by, close by—at our town-tavern.

RICH. Your tavern?

FAU. O, aye, aye, aye; 'tis his own made match, I'll make you laugh, I'll make you laugh, i'faith; Come, come; he's ready. O, come, come away.

LADY F. But where's the princess?

FAU. She is[536] ready too; Block, Block, my man, must be her waiting-man. Nay, will ye go? for God's sake, let us go.

RICH. Is the jest so? nay, then, let us away.

ROB. O, 'twill allay his heat, make dead his fire.

FAU. Ye bobb'd me first; ye first gave me my hire, But come, a God's name, Prince John stays for us.

[Exeunt.

ROB. This is the word ever at spendthrifts' feasts, They are gull'd themselves, and scoff'd at by their guests.

[Exit.



SCENE THE THIRTY-SECOND.

A tavern. Enter JOHN, FAUCONBRIDGE, ROBIN HOOD, RICHARD, and the others[537].

JOHN. Baffled and scoff'd! Skink, Gloster, women, Fools and boys abuse me. I'll be reveng'd.

RICH. Reveng'd? and why, good child? Old Fauconbridge hath had a worser basting.

FAU. Aye, they have banded [me] from chase to chase; I have been their tennis-ball, since I did court.

RICH. Come, John, take hand with virtuous Isabel, And let's unto the court, like loving friends. Our kingly brother's birth-day's festival Is forthwith to be kept; thither we'll hie, And grace with pomp that great solemnity.

JOHN. Whither ye will; I care not, where I go. If grief will grace it, I'll adorn the show.

FAU. Come, madam; we must thither; we are bound.

LADY.[538] I'm loth to see the court, Gloster being from thence, Or kneel to him that gave us this offence.

FAU. Body of me, peace, woman, I prythee, peace.

Enter REDCAP.

RED. Go-Go-God [speed] ye, Go-God s-speed ye!

JOHN. Whither run you, sir knave?

RED. R-r-run ye, sir knave? why, I r-run to my La-Lady Fa-Fauconbridge, to te-te-tell her Sk-Skink and Gl-Gloster is taken, and are g-g-gone to the c-c-court with L-Lord Leicester and L-Lord La-La-Lancaster.

JOHN. Is Gloster taken? thither will I fly Upon wrath's wings; not quiet till he die.

[Exit with PRINCESS.

RICH. Is Gloster taken?

RED. Aye, he is ta-taken, I wa-warrant ye, with a wi-witness.

RICH. Then will I to court, And either set him free, or die the death. Follow me, Fauconbridge; fear not, fair madam: You said you had the porter in your house? Some of your servants bring him; on my life, One hair shall not be taken from his head, Nor he, nor you, nor Gloster, injured.

FAU. Come, Moll, and Richard say the word, ne'er fear.

ROB. Madam, we have twenty thousand at our call, The most young Henry dares is but to brawl.

LADY F. Pray God, it prove so.

RICH. Follow, Huntington: Sir Richard, do not fail to send the porter.

FAU. Block, bring the porter of the Fleet to court.

BLO. I will, sir.

RED. The p-p-porter of the Fl-Fl-Fleet to court? What p-p-porter of the Fl-Fl-Fleet?

BLO. What, Redcap? Run, Redcap, wilt thou see thy father?

RED. My fa-father? Aye, that I w-would s-see my f-father, and there be A p-porter in your ho-house, it is my fa-father.

BLO. Follow me, Redcap, then. [Exit.

RED. And you were tw-tw-twenty B-Blocks, I'd f-f-follow ye, s-so I would, and r-run to the co-co-court too, and k-kneel before the k-k-king f-f-for his pa-pardon.

BLO. [Within.] Come away, Redcap; run, Redcap.

RED. I-I-I r-r-run as f-f-fast as I-I ca-ca-can run, I wa-warrant ye.



SCENE THE THIRTY-THIRD.

Enter a Signet,[539] first two Heralds, after them LEICESTER, with a sceptre, LANCASTER, with a crown imperial on a cushion: after them HENRY THE ELDER, bare-headed, bearing a sword and a globe: after him YOUNG HENRY, crowned: ELINOR, the Mother-Queen, crowned: YOUNG QUEEN crowned: HENRY THE ELDER places his son, the two Queens on either hand, himself at his feet, LEICESTER and LANCASTER below him.

HEN. Herald, fetch Lancaster and Leicester coronets, Suffer no marquis, earl, nor countess enter, Except their temples circled are in gold. [He delivers coronets to LEICESTER and LANCASTER. Shew them our viceroys: by our will controll'd, As at a coronation, every peer Appears in all his pomp; so at this feast, Held for our birthright, let them be adorn'd, Let Gloster be brought in, crowned like an earl. [Exit HERALD. This day we'll have no parley of his death, But talk of jouissance and gleeful mirth. Let Skink come in; give him a baron's seat. High is his spirit, his deserts are great.

KING. You wrong the honour of nobility To place a robber in a baron's stead.

QUEEN. It's well ye term him not a murderer.

KING. Had I misterm'd him?

QUEEN. Ay, that had you, Henry. He did a piece of justice at my bidding.

KING. Who made you a justice?

HEN. I, that had the power.

KING. You had none then.

Enter GLOSTER and SKINK.

LEI. Yes, he was crown'd before.

HEN. Why does not Gloster wear a coronet?

GLO. Because his sovereign doth not wear a crown.

HEN. By heaven, put on thy coronet, or that heaven, Which now with a clear [arch] lends us this light, Shall not be curtain'd with the veil of night, Ere on thy head I clap a burning crown Of red-hot iron, that shall sear thy brains.

RICH. Good Gloster, crown thee with thy coronet.

LAN. Do, gentle earl.

SKINK. Swounds, do; would I had one. [Aside.

QUEEN. Do not, I prythee, keep thy proud heart still.

GLO. I'll wear it but to cross thy froward will.

HEN. Sit down, and take thy place.

GLO. It's the low earth; To her I must, from her I had my birth.[540]

HEN. We are pleas'd thou shalt sit there. Skink, take thy place among my nobles.

Enter JOHN and ISABEL, with coronets.

SKINK. Thanks to King Henry's grace.

JOHN. John, Earl of Morton and of Nottingham, With Isabel his countess, bow themselves Before their brother Henry's royal throne!

HEN. Ascend your seats; live in our daily love.

Enter RICHARD and ROBERT, with coronets.

RICH. Richard, the Prince of England, with his ward, The noble Robert Hood, Earl Huntington, Present their service to your majesty.

HEN. Y'are welcome, too, though little be your love. [Aside.]

Enter FAUCONBRIDGE with his LADY, she a coronet.

FAU. Old Richard Fauconbridge, Knight of the Cross, Lord of the Cinque Ports, with his noble wife, Dame Marian, Countess of West-Hereford,[541] Offer their duties at this royal meeting.

HEN. Sit down, thou art a neuter, she a foe. Thy love we doubt; her heart too well we know. [Aside. What suitors are without? let them come in.

GLO. And have no justice, where contempt is king.

HEN. Madman, I give no ear to thy loose words.

JOHN. O sir, y'are welcome; you have your old seat.

GLO. Though thou sit higher, yet my heart's as great.

QUEEN. Great heart, we'll make you lesser by the head.

GLO. Ill comes not ever to the threatened[542].

Enter BLOCK and REDCAP.

HEN. What are you two?

RED. M-ma-marry, and't please you, I am Re-Re-Redcap.

HEN. And what's your mate?

BLO. A poor porter, sir.

JOHN. The porter of the Fleet, that was condemned?

BLO. No, truly, sir; I was porter last, when I left the door open at the tavern.

JOHN. O, is't you, sir?

LEI. And what would you two have?

RED. I co-co-come to re-re-re-qui-quire the young k-k-king of his go-goo-goodness, since Glo-Gloster is t-taken, that he wo-wo-would let my fa-fa-father have his pa-pa-pardon.

HEN. Sirrah, your father has his pardon sign'd. Go to the office, it shall be delivered.

RED. And shall he be p-p-porter a-ga-gain?

HEN. Aye, that he shall; but let him be advis'd, Hereafter how [he] lets out prisoners.

RED. I wa-warrant ye, my lord.

HEN. What hast thou more to say?

RED. Marry, I wo-would have Skink pu-punish'd For co-co-coney-catching me.

LEI. Is that your business?

RED, Aye, by my t-t-troth is it.

HEN. Then get away.

GLO. Against Skink (poor knave) thou gett'st no right this day.

BLO. O, but run back, Redcap, for the pursuivant! O L-Lord, s-sir, I have another s-suit for the p-p-pursuivant, That has l-l-lost his b-b-box and his wa-wa-warrant.

HEN. What means the fellow?

RED. Why, the pu-pu-pursuivant, sir, and the po-po-porter.

GLO. The box, that I had from him—there it is.

FAU. Marry a me, and I was charg'd with it. Had you it, brother Gloster? God's good mercy!

HEN. And what have you to say?

BLO. Nothing, sir, But God bless you! you are a goodly company! Except Sir Richard[543] or my lady will command me Any more service.

FAU. Away, you prating knave! hence, varlet, hence.

[Exit BLOCK.

LEI. Put forth them fellows there.

RED. Af-fo-fore I g-go, I b-b-be-s-s-seech you, let Sk-Skink and Gl-Gloster be lo-lo-looked to; For they have p-p-play'd the k-k-knaves too-too-too b-b-bad.

HEN. Take hence that stuttering fellow; shut him[544] forth.

RED. Nay, I'll ru-ru-run; faith, you shall not n-n-need to b-b-b-bid him ta-t-take m-me away; for Re-Re-Redcap will r-ru-run rarely. [Exit REDCAP.

HEN. The sundry misdemeanors late committed, As thefts and shifts in other men's disguise, We now must (knave Skink) freely tell thy faults.

SKINK. Sweet king, by these two terrors[545] to mine enemies, that lend light to my body's darkness: Cavilero Skink being beleaguer'd with an host of leaden heels, arm'd in ring Irish[546]: cheated my hammerer of his red cap and coat; was surpris'd, brought to the Fleet as a person suspected, pass'd current, till Gloster stripped me from my counterfeit, clad my back in silk and my heart in sorrow, and so left me to the mercy of my mother-wit. How Prince John released me, he knows; how I got Fauconbridge's chain, I know. But how he will get it again, I know not.

FAU. Where is it, sirrah? tell me where it is?

GLO. I got it from him, and I got John's sword.

JOHN. I would 'twere to the hilt up in thy heart.

RICH. O, be more charitable, brother John.

LEI. My liege, you need not by particulars Examine, what the world knows too plain; If you will pardon Skink, his life is sav'd; If not, he is convicted by the law. For Gloster, as you worthily resolv'd, First take his hand, and afterward his head.

HEN. Skink, thou hast life, our pardon and our love.

SKINK [to JOHN.] And your forgiveness for my robbery?

JOHN. Tut, never trouble me with such a toy; Thou hind'rest me from hearing of my joy.

HEN. Bring forth a block, wine, water, and towel; Knives, and a surgeon to bind up the veins Of Gloster's arm, when his right hand is off— His hand that struck Skink at the Parl'ament.

SKINK. I shall bear his blows to my grave, my lord.

KING. Son Henry, see thy father's palsy hands, Join'd like two suppliants, pressing to thy throne. Look, how the furrows of his aged cheek, Fill'd with the rivulets of wet-ey'd moan, Begs mercy for Earl Gloster? weigh his guilt. Why for a slave should royal blood be spilt?

SKINK. You wrong mine honour: Skink must[547] be reveng'd.

HEN. Father, I do commend your humble course; But quite dislike the project of your suit. Good words in an ill cause makes the fact worse: Of blood or baseness justice will dispute. The greater man, the greater his transgression: Where strength wrongs weakness, it is mere oppression.

LADY F. O, but, King Henry, hear a sister speak. Gloster was wrong'd, his lands were given away, They are not justly said just laws to break, That keep their own right with what power they may. Think, then, thy royal self began the wrong, In giving Skink what did to him[548] belong.

QUEEN. Hear me, son Henry, while thou art a king, Give, take, prison: thy subjects are thy slaves. Life, need, thrones[549], proud hearts in dungeons fling, Grace men to day, to-morrow give them graves. A king must be, like Fortune, ever turning, The world his football, all her glory spurning.

GLO. Still your own counsel, beldam policy! You're a fit tutress in a monarchy.

RICH. Mother, you are unjust, savage, too cruel, Unlike a woman. Gentleness guides their sex; But you to fury's fire add more fuel. The vexed spirit will you delight to vex? O God, when I conceit what you have done, I am asham'd to be esteem'd your son.

JOHN. Base Richard, I disdain to call thee brother, Tak'st thou a traitor's part in our disgrace? For Gloster wilt thou wrong our sacred mother? I scorn thee, and defy thee to thy face. O, that we were in field! then should'st thou try.

ROB. How fast Earl John would from Prince Richard fly! Thou meet a lion in field? poor mouse, All thy careers are in a brothel house.

JOHN. 'Zounds, boy!

RICH. Now, man!

LEI. Richard, you wrong Prince John.

RICH. Leicester, 'twere good you prov'd his champion.

JOHN. Hasten the execution, royal lord[s], Let deeds make answer for their worthless words.

GLO. I know, if I respected hand or head, I am encompassed with a world of friends, And could from fury be delivered. But then my freedom hazards many lives. Henry, perform the utmost of thy hate, Let my[550] hard-hearted mother have her will. Give frantic John no longer cause to prate: I am prepared for the worst of ill. You see my knees kiss the cold pavement's face, They are not bent to Henry nor his friends, But to all you whose blood, fled to your hearts, Shows your true sorrow in your ashy cheeks: To you I bend my knees: you I entreat To smile on Gloster's resolution. Whoever loves me, will not shed a tear, Nor breathe a sigh, nor show a cloudy frown. Look, Henry, here's my hand; I lay it down, And swear, as I have knighthood, here't shall lie Till thou have used all thy tyranny.

LADY F. Has no man heart to speak?

GLO. Let all that love me keep silence, or, by heaven, I'll hate them dying.

QUEEN. Harry, off with his hand, then with his head.

FAU. By the red rood, I cannot choose but weep, Come love or hate, my tears I cannot keep.

QUEEN. When comes this ling'ring executioner?

JOHN. An executioner, an executioner!

HEN. Call none, till we have drunk: father, fill wine; To-day your office is to bear our cup.

RICH. I'll fill it, Henry. [RICH. kneels down.

HEN. Dick, you are too mean To bow unto your sovereign.

GLO. Kneel to his child? O hell! O torture! Gloster, learn: Who would love life to see this huge dishonour?

HEN. Saturn kneeled to his son; the god was fain To call young Jove his age's sovereign. Take now your seat again, and wear your crown; Now shineth Henry like the mid-day's sun, Through his horizon darting all his beams, Blinding with his bright splendour every eye, That stares against his face of majesty. The comets, whose malicious gleams Threatened the ruin of our royalty, Stand at our mercy, yet our wrath denies All favour, but extreme extremities: Gloster, have to thy sorrow, chafe thy arm, That I may see thy blood (I long'd for oft) Gush from thy veins, and stain this palace-roof.

JOHN. 'Twould exceed gilding.

QUEEN. Aye, as gold doth ochre.

GLO. It's well ye count my blood so precious.

HEN. Leicester, reach Gloster wine.

LEI. I reach it him?

HEN. Proud earl, I'll spurn thee; quickly go and bear it.

GLO. I'll count it poison, if his hand come near it.

HEN. Give it him, Leicester, upon our displeasure.

GLO. Thus Gloster takes it: thus again he flings it, In scorn of him that sent it, and of him that brought it.

SKINK. O brave spirit!

LADY F. Bravely resolv'd, brother; I honour thee.

QUEEN. Hark, how his sister joys in his abuse. Wilt thou endure it, Hal?

FAU. Peace, good Marian.

HEN. Avoid there every under-officer: Leave but [with] us our peers and ladies here. Richard, you love Earl Gloster: look about, If you can spy one in this company That hath but[551] done as great a sin as Gloster; Choose him, let him be the executioner.

RICH. Thou hast done worse then, like, rebellious head, Hast arm'd ten thousand arms against his life, That lov'd thee so, as thou wert made a king, Being his child; now he's thy underling! I have done worse: thrice I drew my sword, In three set battles for thy false defence! John hath done worse; he still hath took thy part. All of us three have smit our father's heart, Which made proud Leicester bold to strike his face, To his eternal shame and our disgrace!

HEN. Silence, I see thou mean'st to find none fit. I am sure, nor Lancaster, nor Huntington, Nor Fauconbridge, will lay a hand on him. Mother, wife, brother, let's descend the throne, Where Henry, as[552] the monarch of the west. Hath sat[553] amongst his princes dignified. Father, take you the place: see justice [done].

KING. It's unjust justice, I must tell thee, son.

HEN. Mother, hold you the basin, you the towel: I know your French hearts thirst for English blood; John, take the mallet; I will hold the knife, And when I bid thee smite, strike for thy life: Make a mark, surgeon. Gloster, now prepare thee.

GLO. Tut. I am ready; to thy worst I dare thee.

HEN. Then have I done my worst, thrice-honour'd earl, I do embrace thee in affection's arms.

QUEEN. What mean'st thou, Henry? O, what means my son?

HEN. I mean no longer to be lullabi'd In your seditious arms.

HEN. WIFE. Mordieu[554] Henry.

HEN. Mordieu nor devil, little tit of France, I know your heart leaps at our heart's mischance.

JOHN. 'Swounds, Henry, thou art mad!

HEN. I have been mad: What, stamp'st thou, John? know'st thou not who I am? Come, stamp the devil out, suck'd from thy dam?

QUEEN. I'll curse thee, Henry.

HEN. You're best be quiet; Lest, where we find you, to the Tower we bear you; For, being abroad, England hath cause to fear you.[555]

KING. I am struck dumb with wonder.

GLO. I amaz'd, imagine that I see a vision.

HEN. Gloster, I gave thee first this Skink, this slave; It's in thy power his life to spill or save.

SKINK. He's a noble gentleman, I do not doubt his usage.

HEN. Stand not thus wond'ring; princes, kneel all down, And cast your coronets before his crown. Down, stubborn Queen, kneel to your wronged king, Down, mammet! Leicester, I'll cut off thy legs, If thou delay thy duty! when, proud John?

JOHN. Nay, if all kneel of force, I must be one.

FAU. Now, by my halidom, a virtuous deed!

HEN. Father, you see your most rebellious son, Stricken with horror of his horrid guilt, Requesting sentence fitting his desert: O, tread upon his head, that trod [upon] Your heart: I do deliver up all dignity, Crown, sceptre, sword, unto your majesty.

KING. My heart surfeits with joy in hearing this, And, dear[est] son, I'll bless thee with a kiss.

HEN. I will not rise; I will not leave this ground Till all these voices, joined in one sound, Cry: God save Henry, second of that name, Let his friends live, his foes see death with shame!

ALL. God save Henry, second of that name, Let his friends live, his foes see death with shame!

HEN. Amen, amen, amen!

JOHN. Hark! mother, hark! My brother is already turned clerk.

QUEEN. He is a recreant; I am mad with rage.

HEN. Be angry at your envy, gracious mother, Learn patience and true humility Of your worst-tutor'd son; for I am he. Hence, hence that Frenchwoman; give her her dowry, Let her not speak, to trouble my mild soul, Which of this world hath taken her last leave: And by her power will my proud flesh control. Off with these silks; my garments shall be grey, My shirt hard hair; my bed the ashy dust; My pillow but a lump of hard'ned clay: For clay I am, and with clay I must. O, I beseech ye, let me go alone, To live, where my loose life I may bemoan.

KING. Son!

QUEEN. Son!

RICH. Brother!

JOHN. Brother!

HEN. Let none call me their son; I'm no man's brother, My kindred is in heav'n, I know no other. Farewell, farewell; the world is your's; pray take it, I'll leave vexation, and with joy forsake it. [Exit.

LADY F. Wondrous conversion!

FAU. Admirable good: Now, by my halidom, Moll, passing good.

RICH. H'hath fir'd my soul; I will to Palestine. And pay my vows before the Sepulchre. Among the multitude of misbelief, I'll show myself the soldier of Christ: Spend blood, sweat tears, for satisfaction Of many—many sins, which I lament; And never think to have them pardoned, Till I have part of Syria conquered.

GLO. He makes me wonder, and inflames my spirits, With an exceeding zeal to Portingale, Which kingdom the unchris'ned Saracens[556], The black-fac'd Africans, and tawny Moors, Have got unjustly in possession: Whence I will fire them with the help of heaven.

SKINK. Skink will scorch them, brave Gloster; Make carbonadoes of their bacon-flitches; Deserve to be counted valiant by his valour, And Rivo[557] will he cry, and Castile too, And wonders in the land of Seville do.

ROB. O, that I were a man to see these fights: To spend my blood amongst these worthy knights.

FAU. Marry, aye me, were I a boy again, I'd either to Jerusalem or Spain.

JOHN. Faith, I'll keep England; mother, you and I Will live from[558] all this fight and foolery.

KING. Peace to us all, let's all for peace give praise, Unlook'd-for peace, unlook'd-for happy days! Love Henry's birth-day; he hath been new-born; I am new-crowned, new-settled in my seat. Let's all to th'chapel, there give thanks and praise, Beseeching grace from Heaven's eternal throne, That England never know more prince than one.

[Exeunt.

FINIS.



FOOTNOTES:

[1] He is mentioned by Webbe, in his "Discourse of English Poetrie," 1586, Sign. C 4, with other poets of that time, as Whetstone, Munday, Grange, Knight, Wilmot, Darrell, F.C. F.K., G.B., and others, whose names he could not remember.

[2] Robert Wilmot, A.M., was presented to the rectory of North Okenham, in Essex, the 28th of November 1582, by Gabriel Poyntz: and to the vicarage of Horndon on the Hill, in the same county, the 2d December 1585, by the Dean and Chapter of St Paul's.—Newcourt's "Repertorium." —Steevens.

[3] The same person, who was the author of "A Discourse of English Poetrie: together with the Authors judgment, touching the reformation of our English Verse." B.L. 4to, 1586. [This "Discourse" is reprinted in Haslewood'a "Ancient Critical Essays," 1811-15.]

[4] [An English translation was published in 1577.]

[5] These three sonnets following occur both in Lansdowne MS. (786) and Hargrave MS. (205), but the first was not included in the printed copy of 1591.

[6] Pheer signifies a husband, a friend, or a companion, and in all these senses it is used in our ancient writers. It here means a husband. So in Lyly's "Euphues," 1581, p. 29: "If he be young, he is the more fitter to be thy pheere. If he bee olde, the lyker to thine aged father." It occurs again in act ii. sc. 3, and act iv. sc. 3.

[7] Prevent, or forbid. So in "Euphues and his England," 1582, p. 40: "For never shall it be said that Iffida was false to Thirsus, though Thirsus be faithlesse (which the gods forefend) unto Iffida."

[8] Command. So in Lyly's "Euphues and his England," p. 78: "For this I sweare by her whose lightes canne never die, Vesta, and by her whose heasts are not to be broken, Diana," &c.

Again, in Shakespeare's "Tempest," act iii. sc. 1—

"O my father, I have broke your hest to say so!"

And in the prologue to [Peele's] "Araygnement of Paris," 1584—

"Done by the pleasure of the powers above, Whose hestes men must obey."

The word occurs again in act iv. sc. 2, act iv. sc. 4, and act v. sc. 1.

[9] The second and third sonnets are now given (verbatim et literatim) in a note, as they stand in Lansdowne MS. 786. They will serve to show how slight were Wilmot's improvements, and will leave it perhaps open to doubt whether the changes made in 1591 were always changes for the better.

An other to the same.

Flowers of prime, pearles couched in gold, sonne of our day that gladdeneth the hart of them that shall yo'r shining beames behold, salue of eche sore, recure of euery smart, in whome vertue and beautie striueth soe that neither yeldes: loe here for you againe Gismondes vnlucky loue, her fault, her woe, and death at last, here fere and father slayen through her missehap. And though ye could not see, yet rede and rue their woefull destinie. So Joue, as your hye vertues doen deserue, geue you such feres as may yo'r vertues serue w'th like vertues: and blissfull Venus send Vnto your happy loue an happy end.

An other to the same.

Gismond, that whilom liued her fathers ioy, and dyed his death, now dead doeth (as she may) by vs pray you to pitie her anoye; and, to reacquite the same, doeth humbly pray Joue shield yo'r vertuous loues from like decay. The faithfull earle, byside the like request, doeth wish those wealfull wightes, whom ye embrace. the constant truthe that liued within his brest; his hearty loue, not his unhappy case to fall to such as standen in your grace. The king, prayes pardon of his cruel hest: and for amendes desireth it may suffise, that w'th his blood he teacheth now the rest of fond fathers, that they in kinder wise entreat the iewelles where their comfort lyes. And we their messagers beseche ye all on their behalfes, to pitie all their smartes: and on our own, although the worth be small, we pray ye to accept our simple hartes auowed to serue, w'th prayer and w'th praise your honors, as vnable otherwayes.

[10] The play, as written in 1568, and as altered by Wilmot in 1591, differs so much throughout, that it has been found impracticable, without giving the earlier production entire, to notice all the changes. Certain of the variations, however, and specialities in the Lansdowne MS., as far as the first and second scenes of the first act, will be printed (as a specimen) in the notes.

[11] In the Lansdowne MS. another person of the drama is mentioned: "Claudia, a woman of Gismunda's privie chamber;" and for Choruses we have: "Chorus, four gentlewomen of Salerne."

[12] Not in the MSS.

[13] The County Palurin, a few lines lower, is called Earl. Mr Tyrwhitt says that County signified noblemen in general; and the examples which might be quoted from this play would sufficiently prove the truth of the observation. See "Shakespeare," vol. x., p. 39. [County for Count is not very unusual; but it may be doubted if, as Tyrwhitt thought, County signified noblemen in general.]

[14] This is in the two MSS., but varies in many verbal particulars.

[15] Not in the copy of 1591.

[16] Presented to Gismond. She filled up the cup wherein the heart was brought with her tears and with certain poisonous water, by her distilled for that purpose, and drank out this deadly drink. —Copy of 1568.

[17] The story of this tragedy is taken from Boccaccio's "Decameron," day 4th, novel first. [It was turned into verse] by William Walter, a retainer to Sir Henry Marney, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, [and printed by Wynkyn de Worde in 1532. A different version appeared in] 1597, under the title of "The Statly Tragedy of Guistard and Sismond, in two Bookes," in a volume entitled, "Certaine Worthye Manuscript Poems of great Antiquitie, reserved long in the Studie of a Northfolke Gent., and now first published by J.S." Mr Dryden also versified it a second time. See his works, vol. iii., 8vo edition, p. 245. Oldys, in his MSS. Notes on Langbaine, says the same story is in Painter's Palace of Pleasure, vol. i., and a French novel called "Guiscard et Sigismonde fille de Tancredus Prince de Salerne mis en Latin. Par Leon Arretin, et traduit in vers Francois, par Jean Fleury." [See Brunet, dern. edit. v. Aretinus, Hazlitt's edit. of Warton, 1871, and "Popular Poetry," ii. 66.]

[18] [This line is not in the MSS.]

[19] [Lo I in shape that seem unto your sight.—Lansdowme MS.]

[20] [Do rule the world, and every living thing.—Ibid.]

[21] This word seems anciently to have been pronounced as two syllables. See "Cornelia," act iv., Chorus.

[22] [And eat the living heart.—Lansdowne MS.]

[23] An epithet adopted from Virgil's "Aeneid," lib. vi, line 729—

"Et quae marmoreo fert monstra sub aequore pontus."

Ibid. lib. vii. v. 28—

"Lento luctantur marmore tonsae."

Again, "Georg. I.," v. 254—

"Infidum remis impellere marmor."

—Steevens.

[24] [What secret hollow doth the huge seas hide, When blasting fame mine acts hath not forth blown.] —Lansdowne MS.

[25] Io.

[26] [Grazing in.—Lansdowne MS.]

[27] Like to Amphitrio [when he presented himself] to Alcmena.

[28] [Me.—Lansdowne MS.]

[29] [The bloody Mars hath felt my.—Do.]

[30] [Evened.—Do.]

[31] Hercules.

[32] Alexander.

[33] [Won the famous golden fleece.—M.S.]

[34] [What nature's bond or law's restraint avails, To conquer and deface me every hour.—MS.]

[35] Myrrha.

[36] i.e., For pity. So, act ii. sc. 2—

"As easily befalls that age which asketh ruth."

Act v. sc. 1—

"That hath the tyrant king Withouten ruth commanded us to do."

Again, in Milton's "Lycidas," i. 163—

"Look homeward, angel, now and melt with ruth, And, O ye Dolphins, waft the helpless youth."

And in Churchyard's "Worthiness of Wales," 1587—

"Great ruth, to let so trim a seate goe downe, The countries strength, and beautie of the towne."

[37] [Mine almighty.—MS.]

[38] [This, and the three following lines, are not in the MSS.]

[39] [In creeping thorough all her veins within, That she thereby shall raise much ruth and woe.—MS.]

[40] [This, and the five preceding lines, are not in the MSS.]

[41] [Lo, this before your eyes so will I show, That ye shall justly say with one accord We must relent and yield; for now we know Love rules the world, love only is the lord.—MS.]

[42] [Hath taught me plain to know our state's unrest.—MS.]

[43] [O mighty Jove, O heavens and heavenly powers.—MS.]

[44] [This, and the next line, do not occur in the MSS.]

[45] [Thy sprite, I know, doth linger hereabout And looks that I, poor wretch, should after come; I would, God wot, my lord, if so I mought: But yet abide, I may perhaps devise Some way to be unburdened of my life, And with my ghost approach thee in some wise To do therein the duty of a wife.—MS.]

[46] These omissions are frequent in our old plays. See note on "Love's Labour Lost," edit. of Shakspeare, 1778, vol. ii. p. 410.—Steevens.

[47] In this manner the word was formerly accented. See Dr Farmer's "Essay on the Learning of Shakspeare."

[48] Go. So in Epilogue—

"With violent hands he that his life doth end, His damned soul to endless night doth wend."

Again, in the "Return from Parnassus," 1600, act v. sc. 4—

"These my companions still with me must wend."

In "George a Green Pinner of Wakefield," [Dyce's "Greene and Peele," 1861, p. 259, &c.]—

"Wilt thou leave Wakefield and wend with me ... So will I wend with Robin all along ... For you are wrong, and may not wend this way."

And in Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales," Prologue, line 19—

"Byfel, that, on that sesoun on a day, In Southwerk at the Tabbard as I lay, Redy to wenden on my pilgrimage, To Canturbury with ful devout corage."

[49] Alexander.

[50] Hector.

[51] Euripus Euboicus, or Chalcidicus, is a narrow passage of sea dividing Attica and the Island of Euboea, now called the Gulf of Negropont. It ebbs and flows seven times every day: the reason of which, it is said, when Aristotle could not find, he threw himself into the sea with these words: Quia ego non capio te, tu capias me. Sir Thomas Brown, in his "Enquiries into Vulgar Errors," b. vii. c. 14, appears to have been not satisfied with this account of Aristotle's death, which he has taken some pains to render doubtful.

[52] [Go]. So act ii. sc. 3—

"Therefore my counsel is you shall not stir, Nor farther wade in such a case as this,"

And in Turbervile's "Tragical Tales," 1587—

"Eare thou doe wade so farre, revoke to minde the bedlam boy. That in his forged wings of waxe reposed too great a joy."

[53] Sadly, in most of our ancient writers, is used as here for seriously. So in Nash's "Lenten Stuff," 1599: "Nay, I will lay no wagers, for, now I perponder more sadly upon it, I think I am out indeed."

Again, in Hall's "Chronicle," 1550, fo. 2: "His cosyn germaine was nowe brought to that trade of livynge, that he litle or nothynge regarded the counsaill of his uncles, nor of other grave and sadde persones, but did all thynge at his pleasure."

In Ascham's "Toxophilus," 1571: "And when I sawe not you amonges them, but at the last espyed you lookinge on your booke here so sadlye, I thought to come and hold you with some communication."

And in Warton's "Life of Sir Thomas Pope," p. 30: "Wherein is an abbes namyd Dame Alice Fitzherbert, of the age LX yeares, a very sadde, discreate, and relegyous woman."

[54] Formerly this diversion was as much followed in the evening, as it was at an earlier hour in the day. In "Laneham's Account of the Entertainment at Kenelworth Castle," we find that Queen Elizabeth always, while there, hunted in the afternoon. "Monday was hot, and therefore her highness kept in till _five a clok in the eeveing; what time it pleaz'd to ryde forth into the chase too hunt the hart of fors: which found anon, and after sore chased," &c. Again, "Munday the 18 of this July, the weather being hot, her highness kept the castle for coolness, till about _five a clok_, her majesty in the chase, hunted the hart (as before) of forz" &c.

[55] That is, proceed no further.

[56] i.e., Of nature.

[57] Acquaint her with my resolution. To resolve, however, was sometimes used for convince, or satisfy. It may therefore mean, convince her of the propriety of my command. So in Middleton's "More Dissemblers besides Women," act i. sc. 3—

"The blessing of perfection to your thoughts, lady, For I'm resolv'd they are good ones."

Reed is right in his first explanation; it is so used in Chapman's "May Day," act i. sc. 1.

"Tell her such a man will resolve her naming me."

—"Anc. Dram.," vol. vi. p. 6.—Gilchrist.

[A few lines further on in the text, however,] resolve has the same meaning as dissolve; and so in Lyly's "Euphues and his England," p. 38: "I could be content to resolve myselfe into teares to rid thee of trouble."

Marlowe, as quoted in "England's Parnassus," 1600, p. 480 [see Dyce's "Marlowe," iii., 301], uses it in the same way—

"No molten Christall but a Richer mine, Euen natures rarest alchumie ran there, Diamonds resolu'd, and substance more diuine. Through whose bright gliding current might appeare A thousand naked Nymphes, whose yuorie shine, Enameling the bankes, made them more deare Then euer was that glorious Pallas gate. Where the day-shining sunne in triumph sate."

See also Shakespeare's "Hamlet," act i. sc. 2, and Mr Steevens's note on it.

[58] To quail, is to languish, to sink into dejection. So in Churchyard's "Challenge," 24—

"Where malice sowes, the seedes of wicked waies, Both honor quailes, and credit crackes with all: Of noblest men, and such as fears no fall."

See also Mr Steevens's notes on the "First Part of Henry IV.," act iv. sc. 2, and "Cymbeline," act v. sc. 5.

[Had the writer this passage in his mind when he wrote the well-known lines on Shakespeare, "What need my Shakespeare," &c., which occur in the folio of 1632?]

[59] [The second Chorus to leave off abruptly with this word, the third Chorus taking up the narrative.]

[60] A compliment to Queen Elizabeth.—S.P.

It was, as Mr Steevens observes, no uncommon thing to introduce a compliment to Queen Elizabeth in the body of a play. See "Midsummer's Night's Dream," act ii. sc. 2. See also "Locrine," act v. sc. last.

[61] Probably Henry Noel, younger brother to Sir Andrew Noel, and one of the gentlemen pensioners to Queen Elizabeth; a man, says Wood, of excellent parts, and well skilled in music. See "Fasti," p. 145. A poem, entitled, "Of disdainful Daphne," by M[aster] H. Nowell, is printed in "England's Helicon," 1600, 4to. The name of Mr Henry Nowell also appears in the list of those lords and gentlemen that ran at a tilting before Queen Elizabeth. See Peele's "Polyhymnia," 1590.

"I cannot here let pass unremembered a worthy gentleman, Master Henry Noel, brother to the said Sir Andrew Noel, one of the gentlemen pensioners [see Peck's "Life of Milton," p. 225, for the Gentlemen Pensioners.] to Queen Elizabeth; a man for personage, parentage, grace, gesture, valour, and many excellent parts, inferior to none of his rank in the court; who, though his lands and livelihoods were but small, having nothing known certain but his annuity and his pension, yet in state, pomp, magnificence and expenses, did equalise barons of great worth. If any shall demand whence this proceeded, I must make answer with that Spanish proverb—

'Aquello qual vienne de arriba ninguno lo pregunta.' 'That which cometh from above let no one question.'

"This is the man of whom Queen Elizabeth made this enigmatical distich—

'The word of denial, and letter of fifty, Is that gentleman's name that will never be thrifty.'

He, being challenged (as I have heard) by an Italian gentleman at the baloune (a kind of play with a great ball tossed with wooden braces upon the arm), used therein such violent motion, and did so overheat his blood, that he fell into a calenture, or burning fever, and thereof died, Feb. 26, 1596, and was by her majesty's appointment buried in the abbey church of Westminster, in the chapel of St Andrew."—Benton in Nichols's "Leicestershire," vol. iii. p. 249.

Henry Noel was the second son of Sir Edward Noel, of Dalby, by his second wife, Elizabeth, daughter and heir of William Hopton, of ——, Shropshire, relict of Sir John Peryent, Knt.—Ibid. 254.—Gilchrist.

[62] In the former edition, the word denay'd was altered to the more modern one of deny'd. Denay'd, however, was the ancient manner of spelling it. So in the "Second Part of Henry VI.," act i. sc. 3—

"Then let him be denay'd the regentship."

Again, in the "First Part of Jeronimo," 1605—

"And let not wonted fealty be denayed."

And in "Gammer Gurton's Needle"—

"Loke, as I have promised, I will not denay it."

—Collier.

[63] Prease signifies a crowd or multitude, or any assemblage of a number of persons. So in "Damon and Pithias," vol. iv., pp. 49, 53—

"The King is at hand, stand close in the prease, beware," &c.

And ibid.—

"Away from the prisoner, what a prease have we here!"

Again, in the "History of Euordanus Prince of Denmark," 1605, sig. H: "The Prince passing forwards sorely shaken, having lost both his stirrups: at length recovering himselfe, entred the prease, where on all sides he beate downe knights, and unbarred helms."

[It must be repeated, once for all, that such totally unnecessary notes as this have been retained only from a reluctance to impart to these volumes the character of an abridged or mutilated republication.]

[64] [Draweth.]

[65] Raught is the ancient preterite of the word reach. It is frequently used by Spenser, Shakespeare, and other ancient writers.

[66] [Old copy, where her.]

[67] [Reward.]

[68] Alluding to the vulture that gnawed the liver of Titius. In "Ferrex and Porrex," act ii. sc. 1, is this line—

"Or cruell gripe to gnaw my groaning hart."

—Reed. The allusion is rather to the vulture of Prometheus. —Steevens.

[69] Vipeream inspirans animam. The image is from Virgil. Rowe likewise adopts it in his "Ambitious Stepmother"—

"And send a snake to every vulgar breast."—Steevens.

[70] i.e., The wretch. The word miser was anciently used without comprehending any idea of avarice. See note on "King Henry VI, Part I.," edit. of Shakespeare, 1778, vol. vi. p. 279.—Steevens.

[71] "A stoop, or stowp; a post fastened in the earth, from the Latin stupa."—Ray's "North Country Words," p. 58, edit. 1742.

[72] Not that she is careful or anxious about, or regrets the loss of this life. So in Milton's "Paradise Lost," Bk. ix. line 171—

"Revenge at first though sweet, Bitter ere long back on itself recoils; Let it; I reck not, so it light well aim'd."

And again, in the "History of Sir John Oldcastle," 1600—

"I reck of death the less in that I die, Not by the sentence of that envious priest."

[73] Petrarch and Laura.

[74] These initials were almost unquestionably intended for Christopher Hatton, afterwards knighted and created Lord Chancellor of England. In the fourth year of Queen Elizabeth, 1562, about six years before this play is supposed to have been written, we learn from Dugdale's "Origines Juridiciales," p. 150, a magnificent Christmas was kept in the Inner Temple, at which her majesty was present, and Mr Hatton was appointed Master of the Game. Historians say he owed his rise, not so much to his mental abilities, as to the graces of his person and his excellence in dancing, which captivated the Queen to such a degree, that he arose gradually from one of her Gentlemen Pensioners to the highest employment in the law, which he, however, filled without censure, supplying his own defects by the assistance of the ablest men in the profession. The grave Lord Keeper, after his promotion, still retained his fondness for that accomplishment to which he was indebted for his rise, and led the Brawls almost until his death. In 1589, on the marriage of his heir with Judge Gawdy's daughter, "the Lord Chancellor danced the measures at the solemnity, and left his gown on the chair, saying Lie there, Chancellor." His death, which happened two years after, was hastened by an unexpected demand of money from the Queen, urged in so severe a manner, that all the kindness she afterwards showed to him was insufficient to remove the impression it had made on him. See Birch's "Memoirs of Queen Elizabeth." vol. i. pp. 8, 56, [and Nicolas's "Life of Hatton," p. 478.]

[75] Dryden's translation of Boccaccio's "Description of the Cave" is as follows:—

"Next the proud palace of Salerno stood A Mount of rough ascent, and thick with wood. Through this a cave was dug with vast expence: The work it seem'd of some suspicious prince, Who, when abusing power with lawless might, From public justice would secure his flight. The passage made by many a winding way, Reach'd even the room in which the tyrant lay. Fit for his purpose on a lower floor, He lodged, whose issue was an iron door; From whence by stairs descending to the ground. In the blind grot a safe retreat he found. Its outlet ended in a brake o'ergrown With brambles, choak'd by time, and now unknown. A rift there was, which from the mountain's height Convey'd a glimm'ring and malignant light, A breathing place to draw the damps away, A twilight of an intercepted day."

—"Sigismonda and Guiscardo." Dryden's Works, vol. iii. p. 251.

[76] See Milton's "Paradise Lost," Bk. i. l. 60.

[77] Fetters or chains. So in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Beggar's Bush," act iii. sc. 4—

"Gyves I must wear, and cold must be my comfort."

Marston's "What You Will," act ii. sc. 1—

"Think'st thou a libertine, an ungiv'd beast, Scornes not the shackles of thy envious clogs?"

Milton's "Samson Agonistes," l. 1092—

"Dost thou already single me? I thought Gyves and the mill had tam'd thee."

See Dr Newton's note on the last passage; and Mr Steevens's note on "First Part of Henry IV.," act iv. sc. 3.

[78] Amate is to daunt or confound. Skinner, in his "Etymologicon," explains it thus: "Perterrefacere, Attonitum reddere, Obstupefacere, mente consternare, Consilii inopem reddere." So in "Thule or Vertue's Historic," by Francis Rous, 1598, sig. B—

"At last with violence and open force. They brake the posternes of the Castle gate, And entred spoyling all without remorce, Nor could old Sobrin now resist his fate, But stiffe with feare ev'n like a senceles corse Whom grisly terror doth so much amate, He lyes supine upon his fatall bed. Expecting ev'ry minute to be dead."

Again, Ibid., sig. D—

"He would forsake his choyse, and change his fate, And leave her quite, and so procure her woe, Faines that a sudden grief doth her amate, Wounded with piercing sicknes' Ebon bow."

[79] Astonished. So in "Euphues and his England," p. 102—"Philautus, astonied at this speech," &c. And again, in the "Fable of Jeronimi," by G. Gascoigne, p. 209: "When Ferdinando (somewhat astonied with hir strange speech) thus answered." And in "Thieves Falling Out," &c., 1615, by Rob. Greene: "The gentleman, astonied at this strange metamorphosis of his mistress."

[80] Sprent is sprinkled. So in Spenser's "Shepherd's Calendar," December—

"My head besprent with hoary frost I find."

And Fairfax's "Tasso," cant. xii. st. 101—

"His silver locks with dust he foul besprent."

Again in Milton's "Comus," l. 542—

"Of knot grass dew besprent."

[81] Harbour.

[82] Old copy, hasteth.

[83] Habiliments, S.P.

[84] Unrevenged. [The more correct form would be unwroken.] So in Ben Jonson's "Every Man out of his Humour," act ii. sc. 4—

"Would to heaven, In wreak of my misfortunes, I were turn'd To some fair water nymph."

In "Sejanus his Fall," act iv.—

"Made to speak What they will have to fit their tyrannous wreak."

In Massinger's "Fatal Dowry," act iv. sc. 4—

"But there's a heaven above, from whose just wreak No mists of policy can hide offenders."

In his "Very Woman," act i.

"And our just wreak, by force or cunning practice With scorn prevented."

See also Mr Steevens's note on "Coriolanus," act iv. sc. 5. "Moriamur in ultae?"—Virgil's "Aeneid," lib. iv.—Steevens.

[85] Sorrow. Again, act v. sc. 3—

"His death, her woe, and her avenging teen."

And in Shakespeare's "Venus and Adonis"—

"More I could tell, but more I dare not say, The text is old, the orator too green. Therefore in sadness now I will away, My face is full of shame, my heart of teen."

[86] Old copy, but hell.

[87] Untrimmed locks are locks dishevelled or undressed. Trim, in the language of the times, was frequently used for dress. So in Massinger's "Emperor of the East," act ii. sc. 1—

"Our Eastern queens, at their full height bow to thee, And are, in their best trim, thy foils and shadows."

See also Mr Steevens's note on "King John," act iii. sc. 3.

[88] Alluding to a custom of which mention is made in Genesis, chap. xxiv. 9—"And the servant put his hand under the thigh of Abraham his master, and sware to him concerning that matter." The same form was likewise observed by Jacob and Joseph when they were dying. Some mystery is supposed to be couched under this practice. The most probable, at least the most decent, supposition is, that it was a token of subjection or homage from a servant to his lord, when the former solemnly promised to perform whatever should be commanded by the latter.—Steevens.

[89] The following account of Lodge and his works is very imperfect. See the Shakespeare Society volume, 1853, containing much fuller particulars.

[90] In the "Epistle of England to her Three Daughters," in Clarke's "Polimanteia," 1595, Lodge is spoken of as belonging to Oxford. —Collier.

[91] Mr Malone ("Shakespeare," by Boswell, iii. 40, note 9) says that it was printed about 1580; but Lodge himself, writing in 1584, speaks of Gosson's "Plays Confuted," as written "about two years since."

[92] "Scilla's Metamorphosis," 1589; "Diogenes in his Singularity," 1591; and "A Fig for Momus," 1595, are all stated to be by T.L., or Thomas Lodge, of Lincoln's Inn, Gentleman.

[93] A French sonnet by Thomas Lodge is prefixed to Robert Greene's "Spanish Masquerado." He has also some French verses in "Rosalynde."

[94] The lines upon Lodge in "The Return from Parnassus," 1606, would show that it did occur:—

"He that turns over Galen every day, To sit and simper 'Euphues' Legacy,'" &c.

—Collier.

[95] Afterwards purchased by Mr Collier.

[96] [This does not appear quite to follow. In a poem, "Upon London Physicians," written about 1620, and quoted in "Inedited Poetical Miscellanies," edit. Hazlitt, 1870, sig. Ff 5, he is mentioned in the same way, without any reference to his literary repute or performances.] It is to be observed in the list of Lodge's productions, that there is an interval between 1596, when "Wit's Misery and the World's Madness" appeared, and 1603, when the "Treatise of the Plague" was published.

[97] Others have been attributed to him in conjunction with Greene, but on no sufficient evidence—viz., "Lady Alimony," not printed until 1659; "The Laws of Nature," and "The Contention between Liberality and Prodigality," 1602.

[98] [Reprinted in Mr Dyce's editions of Greene's Works, 1831 and 1861.] Henslowe probably alludes to this play in his MSS., and if so, it was acted as early as 1591. The following is the entry: "R. (i.e., received) at the Looking Glasse, the 8th of Marche, 1591, vij s." [See Mr Collier's edit. 1845, pp. 23-8.]

[99] [Here follows in the former edition a list of Lodge's works, which will be found more fully and correctly given in Hazlitt's "Handbook," in v.]

[100] In the course of the incidents of this historical tragedy, Lodge has very much followed the lives of Marius and Sylla, as given by Plutarch: he was a scholar, and it was not necessary therefore for him to resort to Sir Thomaa North's translation from the French, of which Shakespeare availed himself, and of which there were many editions subsequent to its first appearance in 1579. It is pretty evident, however, from a comparison of a few passages quoted in the notes in the progress of the play, that Lodge did employ this popular work, although he has varied some of the events, and especially the death of Sylla.

It is not, perhaps, possible now to settle the point when this tragedy was first represented on the stage, but it was most likely some time before its publication in 1594. We know that Lodge had written in defence of the stage before 1582, and it is not unlikely that he did so, because he had already written for it. Robert Greene, in his "Groat's worth of Wit," speaks of Lodge as a dramatic poet in 1592; and the comedy which they wrote together, it is ascertained, was acted in March 1591, if not earlier, although it was not printed until three years afterwards. The versification of "The Wounds of Civil War" certainly affords evidence that it was penned even before Marlowe had improved the measure of dramatic blank verse, which Shakespeare perfected: it is heavy, monotonous, and without the pauses subsequently introduced; if therefore Lodge produced it after Marlowe's "Edward II." was brought out, he did not at least profit by the example. All the unities are set at defiance.

[101] The "consul's pall" is the consul's robe. Thus Milton in "Il Penseroso"—

"Let gorgeous Tragedy In scepter'd pall come sweeping by."

Purple pall is very commonly met with in our old writers.

[102] "Sylla nill brook" is "Sylla ne will, or will not brook." Shakespeare uses the word. See Mr Steevens's note, "Taming of the Shrew," act ii. sc. 1.

[103] "But specially one day above the rest, having made him sup with him at his table, some one after supper falling in talke of Captaines that were in Rome at that time, one that stood by Scipio asked him (either because he stood in doubt, or else for that he would curry favour with Scipio), what other Captaine the Romanes should have after his death, like unto him? Scipio having Marius by him, gently clapped him upon the shoulders and said, Peradventure this shall be he." —North's Plutarch, "Life of Caius Marius."

[104] [Old copy, into.]

[105] [Old copy, shall, and so in the next line.]

[106] It is doubtful whether we ought to read impale or impall. If the latter, it means to enfold with a pall; but Cleveland uses impale in the same sense—

"I now impale her in my arms."

This, however, is rather a forced construction.

[107] [Old copy, spence.] This may mean "the expense of years that Marius hath o'erpast," or it may be an easy misprint for "space of years." Either may be right.

[108] [Old copy, mate.]

[109] [Old copy, conservatives.]

[110] "To bandy a ball" Coles defines clava pilam torquere; "to bandy at tennis," "Dict." 1679. See Mr Malone's note on "Lear," act i. sc. 4.

[111] Prest for Asia, is ready for Asia. It is almost unnecessary to multiply instances, but the following is very apposite:—

"Dispisde, disdainde, starvde, whipt and scornd, Prest through dispaire myself to quell."

—R. Wilson's "Cobbler's Prophecy," 1594, sig. C4.

[112] Lodge and other writers not unfrequently use the adjective for the substantive: thus, in "The Discontented Satyre:"—

"Blush, daies eternal lampe, to see thy lot, Since that thy cleere with cloudy darkes is scar'd."

[113] The quarto has the passage thus—

"These peers of Rome have mark'd A rash revenging hammer in thy brain;"

which seemed so decidedly wrong as to warrant the change that, without much violence, has been made.

[114] Guerdon is synonymous with reward. It is scarcely yet obsolete.

[115] Old copy, hammer.

[116] Vengeance.

[117] Scarce. It is found in Spenser. Robert Greene also uses it—

"It was frosty winter season, And fair Flora's wealth was geason."

—"Philomela," 1592. Again, we find it in the tragical comedy of "Appius and Virginia," 1575—"Let my counsel at no time lie with you geason," sig. D. [vol. iv. p. 138].

[118] Open them.

[119] Old copy, what.

[120] The meaning of "would amate me so," is, would daunt or confound me so. See note to "Tancred and Gismunda" [supra, p. 79], where instances are given.

[121] Mr Steevens, in a note on the "Comedy of Errors," act ii. sc. 1, has collected a number of quotations to show the meaning of the word stale, and to them the reader is referred. In this place it signifies a false allurement, bait, or deception on the part of fortune.

[122] The barbarous jargon put into the mouth of this Frenchman is given in the orthography of the old copy, since it was vain to attempt correction.

[123] "Now when they were agreed upon it, they could not find a man in the city that durst take upon him to kill him; but a man of armes of the Gaules, or one of the Cimbres (for we find both the one and the other in writing) that went thither with his sword drawn in his hand. Now that place of the chamber where Marius lay was very dark, and, as it is reported, the man of armes thought he saw two burning flames come out of Marius's eyes, and heard a voice out of that dark corner, saying unto him: O fellow, thou, darest thou come to kill Caius Marius? The barbarous Gaule, hearing these words, ran out of the chamber presently." —North's Plutarch, "Life of Caius Marius."

[124] "For when he was but very young, and dwelling in the country, he gathered up in the lap of his gowne the ayrie of an eagle, in the which were seven young eagles; whereat his father and mother much wondering, asked the soothsayers what that meant? They answered that their sonne should one day be one of the greatest men in the world, and that out of doubt he should obtain seven times in his life the chiefest office of dignity in his country."—North's Plutarch, "Life of Caius Marius."

[125] The old quarto divides the play very irregularly; for according to it there are two Acts iii. and two Acts iv. One of the Acts iii. was made to commence here.

[126] Necessarily or unavoidably.

[127] Old copy, Picaeo.

[128] Old copy, metals.

[129] An early instance of an echo of this kind upon the stage is to be found in Peele's "Arraignment of Paris," 1584. Mr D'Israeli has an entertaining essay upon them in his "Curiosities of Literature," second series. They were carried to a most ridiculous excess afterwards.