book 120
That dare presume even on Medusa look. I have no artist's skill in symphonies, Yet when some pleasing diapason flies From out the belly of a sweet-touch'd lute, My ears dare[596] say 'tis good: or when they suit Some harsher sevens for variety, My native skill discerns it presently. What then? Will any sottish dolt repute, Or ever think me Orpheus absolute? Shall all the world of fidlers follow me, 130 Relying on my voice in musickry? Musus, here's Rhodes; let's see thy boasted leap, Or else avaunt, lewd cur, presume not speak, Or with thy venom-sputtering chaps to bark Gainst well-penn'd poems, in the tongue-tied dark. O for a humour, look, who yon doth go, The meagre lecher, lewd Luxurio! 'Tis he that hath the sole monopoly, By patent, of the suburb lechery; No new edition of drabs comes out, 140 But seen and allow'd by Luxurio's snout. Did ever any man e'er hear him talk, But of Pick-hatch,[597] or of some Shoreditch balk, Aretine's filth, or of his wand'ring whore;[598] Of some Cinædian, or of Tacedore; Of Ruscus' nasty, loathsome brothel rhyme, That stinks like A-jax[599] froth, or muck-pit slime? The news he tells you is of some new flesh, Lately broke up, span new, hot piping fresh. The courtesy he shows you is some morn 150 To give you Venus 'fore her[600] smock be on. His eyes, his tongue, his soul, his all, is lust, Which vengeance and confusion follow must. Out on this salt humour, letcher's dropsy, Fie! it doth soil my chaster poesy! O spruce! How now, Piso, Aurelius' ape, What strange disguise, what new deformèd shape, Doth hold thy thoughts in contemplation? Faith say, what fashion art thou thinking on? A stitch'd taffeta cloak, a pair of slops 160 Of Spanish leather? O, who heard his chops E'er chew of ought but of some strange disguise? This fashion-monger, each morn 'fore he rise, Contemplates suit-shapes, and once from out his bed, He hath them straight full lively portrayèd. And then he chucks, and is as proud of this As Taphus when he got his neighbour's bliss. All fashions, since the first year of this queen, May in his study fairly drawn be seen; And all that shall be to his day of doom; 170 You may peruse within that little room; For not a fashion once dare show his face, But from neat Piso first must take his grace: The long fool's coat, the huge slop, the lugg'd[601] boot, From mimic Piso all do claim their root. O that the boundless power of the soul Should be coop'd up in fashioning some roll! But O, Suffenus! (that doth hug, embrace His proper self, admires his own sweet face; Praiseth his own fair limbs' proportion, 180 Kisseth his shade, recounteth all alone His own good parts) who envies him? Not I, For well he may, without all rivalry. Fie! whither's fled my sprite's alacrity? How dull I vent this humorous poesy! In faith I am sad, I am possess'd with ruth, To see the vainness of fair Albion's youth; To see their richest time even wholly spent In that which is but gentry's ornament; Which, being meanly done, becomes them well; 190 But when with dear time's loss they do excell, How ill they do things well! To dance and sing, To vault, to fence, and fairly trot[602] a ring With good grace, meanly done, O what repute They do beget! But being absolute, It argues too much time, too much regard Employ'd in that which might be better spar'd Than substance should be lost. If one should sue For Lesbia's love, having two days to woo, And not one more, and should employ those twain 200 The favour of her waiting-wench to gain, Were he not mad? Your apprehension, Your wits are quick in application. Gallants, Methinks your souls should grudge and inly scorn To be made slaves[603] to humours that are born In slime of filthy sensuality. That part not subject to mortality (Boundless, discursive apprehension Giving it wings to act his function), 210 Methinks should murmur when you stop his course, And soil his beauties in some beastly source Of brutish pleasures; but it is so poor, So weak, so hunger-bitten, evermore Kept from his food, meagre for want of meat, Scorn'd and rejected, thrust from out his seat, Upbraid[604] by capons' grease, consumèd quite By eating stews, that waste the better sprite, Snibb'd[605] by his baser parts, that now poor soul (Thus peasanted to each lewd thought's control) 220 Hath lost all heart, bearing all injuries, The utmost spite and rank'st indignities, With forcèd willingness; taking great joy, If you will deign his faculties employ But in the mean'st ingenious quality. (How proud he'll be of any dignity!) Put it to music, dancing, fencing-school, Lord, how I laugh to hear the pretty fool, How it will prate! His tongue shall never lie, But still discourse of his spruce quality, 230 Egging his master to proceed from this, And get the substance of celestial bliss. His lord straight calls his parliament of sense; But still the sensual have pre-eminence. The poor soul's better part so feeble is, So cold and dead is his Synderesis, "That shadows, by odd chance, sometimes are got; But O the substance is respected not!" Here ends my rage. Though angry brow was bent, Yet I have sung in sporting merriment. 240
[584] _i.e._ "Melancholy, get you to hell!"
[585] Seemingly a term for some sliding dance-movement.
[586] "Intellectual ... mincing capreal."--These words are ridiculed by Ben Jonson in _Every Man out of his Humour_, iii. 1. See Introduction, vol. i.
[587] Sir John Davies' excellent poem.
[588] "A hall, a hall!"--The cry raised when an open space was wanted for the dancers.
[589] There is no allusion to Will Kempe's famous dance from London to Norwich, as that feat was performed in 1600. _Kempe's jig_ was the name of a popular dance; and there was a ballad that bore the same title.
[590] So in the Induction to the _Malcontent_:--"I am one that hath seen this play often: I have most of the jests here in my table-book."--Dekker, in the _Gull's-Horn Book_, advises a gallant to "hoard up the finest play-scraps you can get, upon which your lean wit may most savourly feed for want of other stuff, when the Arcadian and Euphuized gentlewomen have their tongues sharpened to set upon you!"
[591] The italicised words are technical terms in fencing. I cannot find the term _finctures_, but it doubtless has the meaning _feints_(otherwise called _falses_).
[592] The reference is to Vincentio Saviolo, a famous Italian master of fence, author of _Vincentio Saviolo his Practise in two Bookes. The first intreating of the use of the Rapier and Dagger. The Second of Honor and Honorable Quarrels_, 1595, 4to.
[593] In _Every Man in his Humour_ Cob speaks of Bobadil as a "_Burgullian_ fencer"; and Dekker in the Preface to _Satiromastix_ says that "Horace [Jonson] questionless made himself believe that his _Burgonian_ wit might desperately challenge all comers, and that none durst take up the foils against him." In each case the allusion is to the Bastard of Burgundy who was overthrown at Smithfield in 1467 by Anthony Woodville. There is doubtless the same allusion in the present passage.
[594] The _pommado_ was the vaulting on a horse (without touching the stirrups) and the _pommado reversa_ was the vaulting off again.
[595] Omitted in ed. 1598.
[596] Ed. 1598 "dares."
[597] Pick-hatch (in Clerkenwell) and Shoreditch were the head-quarters of whores.
[598] _Puttana Errante_ is the title of a poem (by Lorenzo Veniero) falsely ascribed to Aretino. The same title was sometimes given to _Dialoghi di Rosana e Ginevra_. See Preface to vol. i. of _Les Ragionamenti ou Dialogues du divin Pietro Aretino_, Paris, 1882.
[599] (1) Ajax; (2) A jakes.--The joke is of constant occurrence.
[600] Ed. 1599 "his."
[601] _i.e._, with long ears, or tags.
[602] "Trot a ring."--See note 1, vol. i. p. 111.
[603] Ed. 1598 "slave."
[604] "Remors de l'estromac, _The upbraiding of the stomacke_."--_Cotgrave._
[605] Snubbed.
TO EVERLASTING OBLIVION.[606]
Thou mighty gulf, insatiate cormorant! Deride me not, though I seem petulant To fall into thy chops. Let others pray For ever their fair poems flourish may; But as for me, hungry Oblivion, Devour me quick, accept my orison, My earnest prayers, which do importune thee, With gloomy shade of thy still empery, To veil both me and my rude poesy. Far worthier lines, in silence of thy state, 10 Do sleep securely, free from love or hate; From which this living ne'er can be exempt, But whilst it breathes will hate and fury tempt: Then close his eyes with thy all-dimming hand, Which not right glorious actions can withstand. Peace, hateful tongues, I now in silence pace, Unless some hound do wake me from my place, I with this sharp, yet well-meant poesy, Will sleep secure, right free from injury Of canker'd hate, or rankest villainy. 20
[606] Compare "The Author's Charge to his Satires" prefixed to Hall's _Virgedemiarum, The three last Books_.
TO HIM THAT HATH PERUSED ME.
Gentle or ungentle hand that holdest me, let not thine eye be cast upon privateness, for I protest I glance not on it. If thou hast perused me, what lesser favour canst thou grant than not to abuse me with unjust application? Yet, I fear me, I shall be much, much injuried[607] by two sorts of readers: the one being ignorant, not knowing the nature of a satire (which is, under feigned private names to note general vices), will needs wrest each feigned name to a private unfeigned person: the other, too subtile, bearing a private malice to some greater personage than he dare, in his own person, seem to malign, will strive, by a forced application of my general reproofs, to broach his private hatred,--than the which I know not a greater injury can be offered to a satirist. I durst presume, knew they how guiltless and how free I were from prying into privateness, they would blush to think how much they wrong themselves in seeking to injure me. Let this protestation satisfy our curious searchers; so may I obtain my best hopes, as I am free from endeavouring to blast any private man's good name. If any one (forced with his own guilt) will turn it home and say, "'Tis I," I cannot hinder him; neither do I injure him. For other faults of poesy, I crave no[608] pardon, in that I scorn all penance the bitterest censurer can impose upon me. Thus (wishing each man to leave inquiring whom I am, and learn to know himself) I take a solemn congee of this fusty world.
THERIOMASTIX.
[607] The verb _injury_ is frequently found.
[608] Ed. 1598 "me."
ENTERTAINMENT
OF
ALICE, DOWAGER-COUNTESS OF DERBY.
_The noble Lorde & Lady of Huntingdons Entertainement of theire right Noble Mother Alice: Countesse Dowager of Darby the first night of her honors arrivall att the house of Ashby._
The MS. of this Entertainment is preserved at Bridgewater House. Extracts were printed in Halliwell's _Marston_, vol. iii.; but the Entertainment was first printed in full by Dr. Grosart. I have not seen the MS.: it seemed unnecessary to go over the ground again, for Dr. Grosart's transcript was evidently made with great care.[609] "The MS.," he observes, "fills fifteen leaves. The first leaf, which contains the address to the dowager-duchess of Derby, and leaves fourteen and fifteen, which contain the 'Epilogue' (never before printed), are in Marston's own handwriting. The rest of the MS. is in two hands.... Throughout the MS. there are several corrections made in a darker ink, and apparently by Marston himself. On leaf two is a small blank space and the following words by Marston: 'as this lame figure demonstrates'--a sketch being evidently intended. But, spite of the author's supervision, various mistakes of the scribe are left."
[609] At the close of his Introduction to Hall's _Satires_, Dr. Grosart corrects a few errors that had crept into his transcript of Marston's Entertainment. These corrections I have silently adopted.
TO THE
RIGHT NOBLE LADY ALICE,
COUNTESS-DOWAGER OF DERBY.
MADAM, If my slight Muse may suit your noble merit, My hopes are crown'd, and I shall cheer my spirit; But if my weak quill droops or seems unfit, 'Tis not your want of worth, but mine of wit. The servant of your honour'd virtues, JOHN MARSTON.
When her Ladyship approached the Park corner, a full noise of cornets winded; and when she entered into the Park, treble cornets reported one to another, as giving warning of her Honour's nearer approach; when presently her eye was saluted with an antique gate, which suddenly was erected in this form. Upon the gate did hang many silver scrolls with this word in them, _Tantum uni_. Upon the battlements over the gate three gilt shields in diamond-figure, impaled on the top with three coronets purfled with gold, and severally inscribed with silver words; in the first shield, _Venisti tandem_; in the second, _Nostra sera_; in the third, _Et sola voluptas_. Over these, upon a half sphere, stood embossed an antique figure gilt; the slight tower[s] to this gate, which were only raised for show, were set out with battlements, shields, and coronets suitable to the rest. When the Countess came near the gate an old enchantress in crimson velvet, with pale face, black hair, and disliking countenance, affronted her Ladyship, and thus rudely saluted her:--
Woman, Lady, Princess, Nymph, or Goddess, For more you are not, and you seem no less; Stay, and attempt not passage through this port, Here the pale Lord of Sadness keep[s] his court, Rough-visag'd Saturn, on whose bloodless cheeks, Dull Melancholy sits, who straightly seeks To seize on all that enter through this gate. Grant gracious listening, and I shall relate The means, the manner, and of all the sense, Whilst your fair eye enforceth eloquence. There was a time (and since that time the sun Hath not yet through nine signs of heaven run) When the high Sylvan, that commands these woods, And his bright Nymph, fairer than Queen of Floods, With most impatient longings hoped to view Her face to whom their hearts' dear'st zeal was due. Youth's joys to love, sweet light unto the blind, Beauty to virgins, or what wit can find Most dearly wished, was not so much desired As she to them; O my dull soul is fired To tell their longings, but it is a piece That would o'erload the famous tongues of Greece. Yet long they hop'd, till Rumour struck Hope dead, And showed their wishes were but flatterèd; For scarce her chariot cut the easy earth, And journeyed on, when Winter with cold breath Crosseth her way, her borrowed hair doth shine With glittering icicles all crystalline; Her brows were periwigg'd with softer snow, Her russet mantle, fringed with ice below, Sat[610] stiffly on her back; she thus came forth, Ushered with tempest of the frosty North; And seeing her, she thought she sure had seen The sweet-breath'd Flora, the bright Summer's Queen. So full of cheerful grace she did appear, That Winter feared her face recalled the year, And forced untimely springs to seize her right, Whereat with anger and malicious spite She vows revenge; straight with tempestuous wings, From Taurus, Alps, and Scythian rocks she flings Their covering off, and here their thick fur spread, That patient earth was almost smotherèd. Up Boreas mounts, and doth so strongly blow Athwart her way huge drifts of blinding snow, That mountain-like, at length heaps rose so high, Man's sight might doubt whether Heaven or Earth were sky. Hereat she turnèd back, and left her way (Necessity all mortals must obey); Which was no sooner voiced and hither flown, It sads me but to think what grief was shown; Which to augment (mishap ne'er single falls), The God of Sadness and of Funerals, Of heavy pensiveness and discontent, Cold and dull Saturn hither straight was sent. Myself, Merimna, who still wait upon Pale Melancholy and Desolation, Usher'd him in, when straight we strongly seize All this sad house, and vowed no means should ease These heavy bands which pensive Saturn tied, Till with wish'd grace this house was beautified. Pace then no further, for vouchsafe to know, Till her approach here can no comfort grow; 'Tis only one can their sad bondage break, Whose worth I may admire, not dare to speak. She's so complete, that her much honoured state Gives Fortune Virtue, makes Virtue fortunate; As one in whom three rare mix'd virtues sit Seen seldom joinèd, Fortune, Beauty, Wit; To this choice Lady and to her dear state All hearts do open, as alone this gate; She only drives away dull Saturn hence, She whom to praise I need her eloquence!
This speech thus ended, presently Saturn issued from forth the port, and curiously beholding the Countess, spake thus:--
Peace! stay, it is, it is, it is even she! Hail happy honours of Nobility! Did never Saturn see, or ne'er see such? What should I style you? what choice phrase may touch, Or hopes in words such wondrous grace to suit, Whose worth doth want an equal attribute. Let never mortal wondering silence break, Since to express you Gods themselves must speak. Sweet glories of your sex, know that your eyes Makes mild the roughest planet of the skies. Even we, the Lord that sits on ebon thrones, Circled with sighs and discontented groans, Are forced at your fair presence to relent, At your approach all Saturn's force is spent. Now breaks my bands, now sadness leaves their towers, Now all are turn'd to Flora's smiling bowers; Then now give way, now is my bondage due Only to those who safely envy you. Hence, solitary Beldam, sink to-night, I give up all to joy, and to delight. And now pass on, all-happy-making dame! O could you but imagine what a flame Of many joys now in their bosoms shine Who count it their dear'st honour to be thine, You would aver, to number[611] them who seeks Must sure invent some new arithmetics, For who to cast their reckoning takes in hand Had need for counters take the ocean-sand. Their service is your right, your love their due Who only love themselves for loving you. Their palace waits you with so hearty gate Men cannot utter nor Gods scarce relate.
Then passed the whole troop to the house, until the Countess had mounted the stairs to the great chamber; on the top of which, Merimna, having changed her habit all to white, met her, and, whilst a consort softly played, spake thus:--
Madam, See what a change the spirit of your eyes Hath wrought in us. Hence dull Saturn flies, And we that were the ghost of woe and earth Are all transform'd unto the soul of mirth. O we are full of joy, no breast more light But those who owe you theirs by nature's right; From whom vouchsafe this present,--'tis a work Wherein strange miracles and wonders lurk. For, know, that Lady whose ambition towers Only to this, to be term'd worthy yours; Whose forehead I could crown with clearest rays, But that her praise is she abhors much praise; Not long since thought she saw in slumb'ring trances The Queen of Fairies and of moonlight dances Come tripping in; and with a fairy kiss She chastely touch'd her and straight gave her this With this strange charge:--"This piece alone was made For her in whom no graces e'er shall fade; For her whose worth is such I dare aver It fears not satire nor the flatterer; For her who gave you first most gracing name, Who loveth goodness for itself, not fame; For her whom modest virtue doth enfold[612] so That she had rather be much graced than told so; For her for whom, had you the whole world's breast And of it all gave her sole interest, You'd judge it slight." This said, hence straight she flew, And left it her who only vows it you. Then whilst our breast with secret welcomes ring, Vouchsafe acceptance of this offering.
Thus with a song Merimna presented her[613] honour with a very curious and rich waistcoat; which done, the Countess passed on to her chamber.
_The Masque presented by four knights and four gentlemen at the right noble Earl of Huntingdon's house of Ashby in honour of his Lady's most worthy mother's arrival, Alice Countess Dowager of Derby._
The form was thus:--
At the approach of the countesses into the great chamber the hoboys played until the room was marshalled; which once ordered, a traverse[614] slided away; presently a cloud was seen move up and down almost to the top of the great chamber, upon which Cynthia was discovered riding; her habit was blue satin, fairly embroidered with stars and clouds: who looking down and earnestly surveying the ladies, spake thus:--
_Cynth._ Are not we Cynthia? and shall earth display Brighter than us and force untimely day? What daring flames beam such illustrious light, Enforcing darkness from the claim of night? Up, Ariadne, thy clear beauty rouse, Thou Northern Crown to lusty Bacchus' spouse, Let's mix our glories to outblaze your flame; To be outshone is Heaven's and great hearts' shame. Look down; know'st them? See how their fronts rebate Splendour like Jove and beauty worth our state! Hath our bright brother, the fair Lord of days, Into their eyes shed his us-dark'ning rays? Or hath some daring spirit forgot Jove's ire And to grace them stol'n his celestial fire? We are not Phoebe, this is not Heaven's story; Place gives not worth, but worth gives place his glory.
In the midst of this speech Ariadne rose from the bottom of the room, mounted upon a cloud which waved up until it came near Cynthia, where resting Ariadne spake thus:--
_Ariad._ Can our chaste queen, searching Apollo's sister, Not know those stars that in yon valley glister? Is virtue strange to heaven? Can Cynthia Not know the goodly-form'd Pasithea? She who loves greatness to be greatly good, Knowing fair'st worth from virtue springs, not blood; Whose graceful just proportion is held such That what may be judge[d] beauty must have touch And proof from hers: yet this her least of grace (Which is the most in most)--her beauty's but the case Of fairest mind: when Fortune gave her eyes, Her worth made Fortune judge she once had eyes. But see a piece that would strike envy blind, Whose face would Furies tame, make monsters kind. He gave her mighty praise and yet no other But that in mind and form she's like her mother: Up, raisèd passion, and with pæans follow Grace of the Muses, daughter of Apollo! O precious selahs' praise thy worth is under; He that would limn thy grace must only wonder. Then views not Cynthia sweet Sophrosyne, Long honour of most rare virginity, But now much happy in her noble choice? In well-link'd nuptials all the gods rejoice. Next learn'd Eulogia, bright in gracious rays, Whose merit faster springeth than my praise; For whoso strives to give her worth fair due, Shall find his praise straight old, her merit new.
_Cynth._ But, look, whose eyes are those that shine more clear Than lightning thrown from shield of Jupiter? See, see, how quick fire leaps from forth her eyes Which burn all hearts and warm the very skies. Is't not bright Euthera?
_Ariad._ The very same, But her mind's splendour hath a nobler flame. But let the gods Eurythia behold, And let them envy her, face nobly bold, Proportion all proportion, with a mind But like itself, no epithet can find.
_Cynth._ Let's visit them and slide from our abode: Who loves not virtue leaves to be a god. Sound, spheres, spread your harmonious breath, When mortals shine in worth gods grace the earth.
The clouds descend: while soft music soundeth, Cynthia and Ariadne dismount from their clouds, and, pacing up to the ladies, Cynthia, perceiving Ariadne wanting her crown of stars, speaks thus:--
_Cynth._ But where is Ariadne's wreath of stars, Her eight pure fires that stud with golden bars Her shining brows? hath sweet-tongued Mercury Advanced his sons to station of the sky And throned them in thy wreath? [or] dost thou leave Thy splendour off and trust of gods deceive?
_Ariad._ Queen of chaste dew, they will not be confined Or fix themselves where Mercury assign'd, But every night upon a forest-side, On which an eagle percheth, they abide, And honour her with their most raisèd light, Chaste sports, just praises, and all soft delight, Vowing their beams to make her presence heaven: Thus is the glory of my front bereaven.
_Cynth._ Tell them they err, and say that we, the Queen Of night's pale lamps, have now the substance seen Whose shadow they adore. Go, bring those eight At mighty Cynthia's summons hither straight. Let us behold, that mount whilst we salute, Their faces, 'fore whom no dullness can be mute.
Presently Ariadne sings this short call:--
Music and gentle night, Beauty, youth's chief delight, Pleasures all full invite Your due attendance to this glorious room; Then, if you have or wit or virtue, come, Oh, come! oh, come!
Suddenly, upon this song, the cornets were winded, and the traverse that was drawn before the masquers sank down. The whole show presently appeareth, which presented itself in this figure: the whole body of it seemed to be the side of a steeply ascending wood, on the top of which, in a fair oak, sat a golden eagle, under whose wings sat, in eight several thrones, the eight masquers, with visards like stars, their helms like Mercury's, with the addition of fair plumes of carnation and white, their antique doublets and other furniture suitable to those colours, the place full of shields, lights, and pages all in blue satin robes, embroidered with stars. The masquers, thus discovered, sat still until Ariadne pronounced this invocation, at which they descended:--
_Ariad._ Mercurian issue, sons of son of Jove, By the Cyllenian rod, and by the love Devotely chaste you vow Pasithea, Descend: first thou more bright of these That givest my crown her name, clear Dolopes, Whose brave descent lets not thy fair heart fall As born of parents most heroical, Who vows himself, his life, his sword and fortune To her whose constant goodness doth importune More than he is: descend! Next him, Auctolius, Of nimble spirit slide to honour us; Faithfull'st Evander; clear-soul'd Erythus; The hopeful Prilis and sweet Polybus; And thou, true son of quick-brain'd Mercury, Dear-loved Myrtillus, with that bright soul mix'd, Experienced Lares, that at last is fix'd After much danger in securer sphere. Here all with wishèd easiness appear, And O, if ever you were worth the grace Of viewing majesty in mortal's face, If e'er to perfect worth you vow'd heart's duty, Show spirit worth your virtues and their beauty.
The violins upon this played a new measure, to which the masquers danced; and ceasing, Cynthia spake:--
Stay a little, and now breathe ye, Whilst these ladies grace bequeath ye; Then mix fair hands, and gently ease ye, Cynthia charms hence what may displease ye. From ladies that are rudely coy, Barring their loves from modest joy, From ignorant silence, and proud looks, From those that answer out of books, From those that hate our chaste delight, I bless the fortune of each starry Knight. From gallants who still court with oaths, From those whose only grace is clothes, From bumbast stockings, vile leg-makers, From beards and great tobacco-takers, I bless the fortune of each starry dame. Sing, that my charm may be more strong; The gods are bound by verse and song.
_The Song_
Audacious night makes bold the lip, Now all court chaster pleasure, Whilst to Apollo's harp you trip, And tread the gracing measure. _Cynth._ Now meet, now break, then feign a warlike sally; So Cynthia sports, and so the gods may dally.
Judicious wit, now raise thy brain, Now heat thy nimbler spirit, Show what delicious faces strain; Much passion shows much merit. _Cynth._ Now meet, now break, then feign a warlike sally; So Cynthia sports, and so the gods may dally.
Lascivious youth not dare to speak The language of loose city; He that Diana's bonds doth break Is held most rudely witty. _Cynth._ Now meet, now break, then feign a warlike sally; So Cynthia sports, and so the gods may dally.
Disgracious dullness yet much mars The shape of courtly talking; He that can silent touch such stars His soul lies in his walking. _Cynth._ Now meet, now break, then feign a warlike sally; So Cynthia sports, and so the gods may dally.
During this song, the masquers presented their shields, and took forth their ladies to dance. After they had danced many measures, galliards, corantos, and levaltos, the night being much spent, whilst the masquers prepared themselves for their departing measure, Cynthia spake thus:--
_Cynth._ Now pleasing rest; for, see the night (Wherein pale Cynthia claims her right) Is almost spent; the morning grows, The rose and violet she strows Upon the high celestial floor, 'Gainst Phoebus rise from paramour. The Fairies, that my shades pursue, And bathe their feet in my cold dew, Now leave their ringlets and be quiet, Lest my brother's eye should spy it. Then now let every gracious star Avoid at sound of Phoebus' car; Into your proper place retire, With bosoms full of beauty's fire; Hence must slide the Queen of Floods, For day begins to gild the woods. Then whilst we sing, though you depart, I'll swear that here you leave your heart.
The eclogue which a despairing shepherd spake to a nymph at my Lady's departure:--
Stay, fair Beliza, and, whilst Heaven throws On the crack'd earth His burning breath, O hear thy Dorus' woes, Whose cause and cure only Beliza knows.
See now the god of flames in full pomp rides, And now each lass On flowery grass By the cool fountain sides With quiet bosom and soft ease abides.
Do you so too, for see this bounteous spring: Pray thee sit down, Then shall I crown Thy brows with flowery ring, Whilst thus with shepherd's homely voice I sing.
He sang a passionate ditty; which done, he spake thus:--
_Shep._ Now, fairest, deign once to impart, Did ever live so coy a lass Who unto love was never moved?
_Nymph._ Yes, shepherd, she that hath the heart And is resolved her life to pass Neither to love or be beloved.
_Shep._ She senseless lives without affection.
_Nymph._ Yet happy lives without subjection.
_Shep._ To be pluck'd are roses blown, To be mow'd are meadows grown [sown?], Gems are made but to be shown, And woman's best--
_Nymph._ To keep her own.
_Shep._ Well, shepherdess, still hate to love me; No scorn from my fix'd vow shall move me. When sheep to finest grass have loathing, When courtiers shall disdain rich clothing, When shepherds shun their mayday's sports, Green sickness when 'tis rife in courts,-- O then, and not till then, I'll hate Beliza, my sole love and fate.
_Nymph._ When love in daughters shall ascend For simple Piety's sole end, When any child her mother graces With all she can, yet all defaces In her fair thought the faith she oweth (Though what she can she freely showeth); Then, shepherd, mayst thou hope attend, For then my hate shall have an end.
_Shep._ Thou'rt mine, Beliza; for behold All the hopes thy wishes crave, All the best the world can have, Here these happy characters unfold; Which who dares but once deny, In the most just and fair defence Of her love's highest excellence, I of thousands am the weak'st will die: From which, O deign to give this touch, Who gives what he can get, gives much.
[_The_ Shepherd _presented a scarf_.
Farewell, farewell! Joy, Love, Peace, Health in you long dwell, With our farewell, farewell!
So the Countess passed on until she came through the little park, where Niobe presented her with a cabinet and so departed.
[610] Dr. Grosart reads "Sott" (from MS.).
[611] Dr. Grosart reads (from the MS.) "You would aueer to numbers: them who seekes."
[612] Dr. Grosart gives from the MS. "vnfolde."
[613] MS. "his."
[614] Moveable screen.
CITY PAGEANT.
CITY PAGEANT,[615]
ON THE OCCASION OF THE VISIT PAID BY THE KING OF DENMARK TO JAMES I. IN 1606.
_The argument of the spectacle presented to the sacred Majesties of Great Britain and Denmark as they passed through London._
After that the Recorder in the name of the City had saluted the Majesties of Great Britain and Denmark with this short oration:--
"Serenissime, Augustissime Rex: quid enim Reges dicam, quos non tam conjunctio sanguinis, quam communio pietatis unum fecit? Anni sunt quinquaginta plus minus, a quo Regem vel unum aspeximus; nunc duos simul contemplamur, admiramur: quapropter antiqua civitas London, nova ista condecorata gloria, triumphat gaudio, salutat precibus, Majestatis binam hanc majestatem.
"Sed quid offeremus? Corda non nostra, tua sunt, magne, maxime Jacobe: et quia tua, Regi huic, potentissimo, fraternitatis vinculo majestati vestræ conjunctissimo, amoris ergo hæcque [_sic_] munusculo dicantur."
The Scene or Pageant of Triumph presented itself in this figure. In the midst of a vast sea, compassed with rocks, appeared the Island of Great Britain, supported on the one side by Neptune, with the force of Ships; on the other, Vulcan with the power of iron, and the commodities of tin, lead, and other minerals. Over the island, Concord, supported by Piety, and Policy, sat enthroned: the body of it thus shaped, the life of it thus spake; whilst the Tritons in the sea sounded loud music, the mermaids singing; then in a cloud Concord descending, and landing on the crag of a rock, spake thus:--
CONCORDIA.
Gentes feroces inter, et crudæ necis Animos capaces, quibus et ignavum est mori Paulo coactis, queis et arma civica, Bellaque leonum paria lacerabant agros, Nunc pacis almæ mater, et cælo edita, Et arcuato cælicæ pacis throno Suffulta, stabilis hic sedeo Concordia. Sic nempe amorum jubet et armorum Deus, Presto ut Britannum principi illustri forem. Religio dextram fulsit, et monet pie Bonum supremum scire supremum est bonum; Justitia lævam, voce sancta cognita, "Servate jus, servate cælicam fidem." Nunc itaque, reges, tuque, super omnes mihi Dilecte, Brutii magne moderator soli, Et tu, sacrato foedere et fratris pio Nexu revinctus, vos in æternum jubet Salvere missa cælitus Concordia. Non has inique denuo hostilis furor Gentes lacessat, neque leonum fortia Ferro dolove corda pertentet malo. Quoties in unum junctis [olim] viribus Coiere Bruti[i], non potuit ulla rabies Externa quatere, aut noxii vis consilii. Romana cessit aquila, donec proditor, Et scelere coepta civium distractio, Animam addidisset hostibus, patriæ metum. Nunc sceptra cum septena vi Normannicæ Camberque cessit, arma deposuit diu Indomita Ierne, et insulis centum potens Magni Getheli accessit antiquum genus. Fraternum amorem, jus sacrati foederis Fideique sanctæ, vinculo astrinxit Jupiter; Quæ vis lacesset? quod scelus quatiet? quibus Armis dolisve insanus utetur furor? En hic frequentes et celebres civium Turmæ, hic juventæ dulce conspirans cohors, Matres puellis, juvenibus[616] misti senes, Vos intuentur: omnis ordo suspicit. Hæ[617] gratiosa lumina, illi pectora Generosa pariter et serena prædicant. (_Adventu Regis, Insula Britanniæ sese aperit, Londinumque prodit._) Totius aperit Insula imperii fores, Ultroque prodit cana mater urbium.
LONDINUM.
Sera quidem, at felix, O cælo addenda, sereno Numina nata solo, illuxit præsentia vestra. Ecce, domus omnes turgent, plenæque fenestræ Expectantum oculos, et prospera cuncta precantum. Invide, Brittannas complexe, Tridentifer,[618] oras, Cur tam longa piæ mora gaudia distulit urbis?
NEPTUNUS.
Urbs cara nobis, cara supremo patri, Non aliqua nos invidia, sed zelus tui, Movit, citatque, ut cursui obstarem ratis. Ego, cum viderem Principem tantum meo Sedisse dorso, ac linteis plenis vehi, Quidnam pararet veritus, et quo tenderet, Remoras adhibui, fateor, ac per me obsteti, Ne te moveret, ne tibi damnum daret; Tibi ut faverem moris antiqui est mihi. Sed, amore cuncta plena[619] fraterno videns, Preces benignas ut perimpleret tuas, Ventum ferentem et maria concessit Jupiter, Dabuntque Neptunus, et Eolus, et Jupiter.[620]
LONDINUM.
Sic, O sic fiat! læto exultate triumpho, Terra ferax, mare fluctisonum, resonabilis Echo: Vivant, æternum vivant, pia numina, fratres! Vivant, Vivant! The [h]umblest servant of your sacred Majesty, _John Marston_.
[615] From Royal MSS. 18A xxxi. (British Museum).
[616] MS. "juvenibus_que_"--an unmetrical reading.
[617] MS. "Hi."
[618] MS. "Tridentifere."
[619] MS. "pleno fraterna."
[620] "In MS. legitur, Neptunus, Eolus, Jupiter; Monosyllaba hæc duo interposita metrum ad iambicos Marstonianos (non Horatianos, fatemur) restituunt."--_Halliwell._
VERSES BY MARSTON.
From Sir Robert Chester's _Love's Martyr_,[621] 1601.
_A Narration and Description of a most exact wondrous Creature, arising out of the Phoenix and Turtle-Dove's ashes._
O, 'twas a moving Epicedium! Can fire, can time, can blackest fate consume So rare creation? No, 'tis thwart to sense; Corruption quakes to touch such excellence; Nature exclaims for justice, justice fate,-- Ought into nought can never remigrate. Then look; for see what glorious issue, brighter Than clearest fire, and beyond faith far whiter Than Dian's tier, now springs from yonder flame! Let me stand numb'd with wonder; never came 10 So strong amazement on astonish'd eye As this, this measureless pure rarity. Lo, now, th' extracture of Divinest essence, The soul of Heaven's laboured quintessence, (Pæans to Phoebus!) your dear lover's death Takes sweet creation and all-blessing breath. What strangeness is't, that from the Turtle's ashes Assumes such form, whose splendour clearer flashes Than mounted Delius? Tell me, genuine muse! Now yield your aids, you spirits that infuse 20 A sacred rapture, light my weaker eye, Raise my invention on swift fantasy; That whilst of this same Metaphysical, God, man, nor woman, but elix'd of all, My labouring thoughts with strainèd ardour sing, My muse may mount with an uncommon wing.
_The Description of this Perfection._
Dares then thy too audacious sense Presume define that boundless _Ens_, That amplest thought transcendeth? O yet vouchsafe, my muse, to greet That wondrous rareness, in whose sweet All praise begins and endeth.
Divinest Beauty! that was slightest, That adorn'd this wondrous Brightest, Which had nought to be corrupted. In this perfection had no mean; 10 To this earth's purest was unclean, Which virtue even instructed.
By it all beings deck'd and stainèd, Ideas that are idly feignèd Only here subsist invested; Dread not to give strain'd praise at all, No speech is hyperbolical To this Perfection blessèd.
Thus close my rhymes; this all that can be said, This wonder never can be flatterèd. 20
_To Perfection.--A Sonnet._
Oft have I gazèd with astonish'd eye At monstrous issues of ill-shapèd birth, When I have seen the midwife to old Earth, Nature, produce most strange deformity.
So have I marvell'd to observe of late Hard-favour'd feminines so scant of fair, That masks so choicely shelter'd of the air, As if their beauties were not theirs by fate.
But who so weak of observation, Hath not discern'd long since how virtues wanted, 10 How parsimoniously the Heavens have scanted Our chiefest part of adoration?
But now I cease to wonder, now I find The cause of all our monstrous penny-shows; Now I conceit from whence wit's scarcety grows, Hard favour'd features, and defects of mind. Nature long time hath stor'd up virtue, fairness, Shaping the rest as foils unto this Rareness.
_Perfectioni Hymnus._
What should I call this Creature, Which now is grown unto maturity? How should I blaze this feature As firm and constant as eternity?
Call it perfection? Fie! 'Tis perfecter than brightest names can light it; Call it Heaven's mirror? Ay, Alas! best attributes can never right it.
Beauty's resistless thunder? All nomination is too straight of sense. 10 Deep contemplation's wonder? That appellation give this excellence.
Within all best confined, (Now, feebler Genius, end thy slighter rhyming), No suburbs,[622]--all is _mind_,-- As far from spot as possible defining.
JOHN MARSTON.
[621] The verses are from the appendix to _Love's Martyr_. The appendix has a separate title--_Hereafter Follow Diverse Poeticall Essaies on the former Subiect; viz.: the Turtle and Phoenix. Done by the best and chiefest of our moderne writers, with their names subscribed to their particular workes: neuer before extant, &c._ Marston's verses follow Shakespeare's _Phoenix and Turtle_.
[622] "Differentia Deorum et Hominum, apud Senecam; Sic habet nostri melior pars animum, in illis nulla pars extra animum."--Marginal note in old ed.
THE MOUNTEBANK'S MASQUE.
_THE MOUNTEBANK'S MASK._
It is with some diffidence that I include this piece among Marston's Works. Mr. J. P. Collier printed it in 1848 for the Shakespeare Society from a MS. in the possession of the Duke of Devonshire; and he stated that Marston's name is pencilled on the cover of the MS. in a handwriting of the time. This MS. appears to have been mislaid, for I can find no mention of it in the catalogue of His Grace's dramatic collection.
Collier was not aware that Nichols had printed this Masque in the third volume of his "Progress of Queen Elizabeth" from another MS., and that there is extant a third MS. copy in Add. MS. 5956 (Brit. Museum).
I have contented myself with printing Collier's text without any material alterations; but I have given in a footnote the graceful song with which the Masque concludes in Nichols' transcript. The Masque was performed at Court 16th February 1617-8 (See Nichols' _Progresses of King James I._, iii. 466).
THE MOUNTEBANK'S MASQUE.
THE FIRST ANTIMASQUE OF MOUNTEBANKS.
MOUNTEBANK'S SPEECH.
The great Master of medicine, Æsculapius, preserve and prolong the sanity of these Royal and Princely Spectators. And if any here present happen to be valetudinary, the blessed finger of our grand Master Paracelsus be at hand for their speedy reparation. I have heard of a mad fellow that styles himself a merry Greek, and goes abroad by the name of Paradox, who with frisking and dancing, and new broached doctrine, hath stolen himself, this Festival time of Christmas, into favour at the Court of Purple, and having there got some approbation for his small performance, is grown so audacious as to intrude himself into this honoured presence. To prevent whose further growing fame, I have, with these my fellow Artists of several nations, all famous for the bank, hither made repair, to present unto your view more wholesome, more pleasing, and more novel delights, which, to avoid prolixity, I distribute into these following commonplaces.
Names of Diseases cured by us, Which being infinite, purposely we omit. Musical Charms, Familiar Receipts,
_Sing their Songs, viz._:
_Chorus._ What is't you lack, what would you buy? What is it that you need? Come to me, Gallants; taste and try: Here's that will do the deed.
1 SONG.
1. Here's water to quench maiden fires; Here's spirits for old occupiers; Here's powder to preserve youth long, Here's oil to make weak sinews strong. What!
2. This powder doth preserve from fate; This cures the Maleficiate: Lost Maidenhead this doth restore, And makes them Virgins as before. What!
3. Here's cure for toothache, fever-lurdens,[623] Unlawful and untimely burdens: Diseases of all Sex and Ages This Medicine cures, or else assuages. What!
4. I have receipts to cure the gout, To keep pox in, or thrust them out; To cool hot bloods, cold bloods to warm, Shall do you, if no good, no harm. What!
2 SONG.
1. Is any deaf? Is any blind? Is any bound, or loose behind? Is any foul, that would be fair? Would any Lady change her hair? Does any dream? Does any walk, Or in his sleep affrighted talk? I come to cure what ere you feel, Within, without, from head to heel.
2. Be drums or rattles in thy head; Are not thy brains well tempered? Does Eolus thy stomach gnaw, Or breed there vermin in thy maw? Dost thou desire, and cannot please, Lo! here the best Cantharides. I come.
3. Even all diseases that arise From ill disposed crudities, From too much study, too much pain, From laziness, or from a strain, From any humour doing harm, Be 't dry or moist, or cold or warm. I come.
4. Of lazy gout I cure the Rich; I rid the Beggar of his itch; I fleam avoid, both thick and thin: I dislocated joints put in. I can old Æson's youth restore, And do a thousand wonders more. Then come to me. What!
3 SONG.
1. Maids of the chamber or the kitchen, If you be troubled with an itching, Come give me but a kiss or two, I'll give you that shall soon cure you. Nor Galen nor Hippocrates Did ever do such cures as these.
2. Crack'd maids, that cannot hold your water, Or use to break wind in your laughter; Or be you vex'd with kibes or corns, I'll cure; or Cuckolds of their horns. Nor Galen.
3. If lusty Doll, maid of the dairy, Chance to be blue-nipp'd by the Fairy, For making Butter with her tail, I'll give her that did never fail. Nor Galen.
4. Or if some worse mischance betide her, Or that the nightmare over-ride her; Or if she tell all in a dream, I'll cure her for a mess of cream. Nor Galen.
4 SONG.
1. Is any so spent, that his wife keeps Lent? Does any waste in his marrow? Is any a slug? Let him taste of my drug, 'Twill make him as quick as a sparrow. My powder and oil, extracted with toil, By rare sublime infusions, Have proof they are good, by mine own dear blood, In many strange conclusions.
2. Does any consume with the salt French rheum? Doth the gout or palsy shake him: Or hath he the stone, ere a month be gone, As sound as a bell I'll make him. My powder.
3. The griefs of the spleen, and maids that be green, Or the heat in the Ladies' faces; The gripes of the stitch, or the Scholar's itch, In my cures deserve no places. My powder.
The web or the pin,[624] or the morphew of skin, Or the rising of the mother, I can cure in a trice. Oh, then, be not nice, Nor ought that grieves you smother. My powder.
FAMILIAR RECEIPTS.
_An approved receipt against Melancholy feminine._
If any Lady be sick of the Sullens, she knows not where, let her take a handful of simples, I know not what, and use them I know not how, applying them to the part grieved, I know not which, and she shall be well, I know not when.
_Against the Scurvy._
If any Scholar be troubled with an itch, or breaking out, which in time may prove the Scurvy, let him first forbear clawing and fretting meats, and then purge choler, but by no means upwards.
_For restoring Gentlemen Ushers' Legs._
If any Gentleman Usher hath the consumption in his legs, let him feed lustily on veal two months in the spring time, and forbear all manner of mutton, and he shall increase in calf.
_For the Tentigo._
If any be troubled with the Tentigo, let him travel to Japan, or, because the forest of Turnbolia is of the same altitude, or elevation of the Pole, and at hand, let him hunt there for his recreation, and it shall be done in an instant.
_For the Angina._
If any Scholar labour of the Angina, a dangerous disease in the throat, so that he cannot speak an hour together once in a quarter of a year, let him forbear all violent exercises, as trotting to Westminster Hall every term, and all hot liquors and vapours; let him abstain from company, retiring himself warm clad in his study four days in a week, _et fiet_.[625]
_For a Felon._
If any be troubled with a Felon on his finger, whereby he hath lost the lawful use of his hand, let him but once use the exercise of swinging, and stretch himself upon the sovereign tree of Tiburnia, and it will presently kill the Fellon. _Probatum_.
_For a Tympany._
If any Virgin be so sick of Cupid that the disease is grown to a Tympany, let her with all speed possible remove herself, changing air for forty weeks at least, keeping a spare diet as she travels, always after using lawful exercises, till she be married, and then she is past danger.
_For Barrenness._
If any lady be long married, yet childless, let her first desire to be a mother, and to her breakfast take a new-laid egg, in a spoonful of goat's milk, with a scruple of Ambergris; and at supper feed on a hen trodden but[626] by one cock. But above all things, let her avoid hurrying in a Caroch, especially on the stones, and assuming a finer mould than nature meant her, and no doubt she shall fructify.
_For the Falling Sickness._
If any woman be troubled with the falling sickness, let her not travel Westward Ho, because she must avoid the Isle of Man; and for that it is an evil Spirit only entered into her, let her for a Charm always have her legs across when she is not walking, and this will help her.
_For a Rupture._
If any Tradesman be troubled with a Rupture in the bowels of his estate, that he cannot go abroad, let him decoct Gold from a pound to a noble, taking the broth thereof from six months to six months, and he shall be as able a man as ever he was.
Now, Princely Spectators, to let you see that we are men qualified from head to foot, we will show you a piece of our footmanship.
_Dance Antimasque._
[_Exeunt._ _Enter_ PARADOX.
Health and jouisance to this fair assembly. Now the thrice three learned Sisters forsake me, if ever I beheld such beauties in Athens. You ask, perhaps, who I am that thus conceitedly salute you? I am a merry Greek, and a Sophister of Athens, who, by fame of certain novel and rare presentments undertaken and promised by the gallant Spirits of Graia drawn hither, have intruded myself, Sophiste like, in at the back door, to be a Spectator, or rather a Censor, of their undertakings. The Muses grant they may satisfy our expectations. Ah, the shows and the songs, and the speeches, and the plays, and the comedies, and the actings that I have seen at Athens! The universe never saw the like. But let that pass. There was another end of my coming, and that was to get some of these Beauties to be my disciples; for I teach them rare doctrines, but delightful; and if you be true Athenians (that is, true lovers of novelties, as I hope you all are) you will give my hopes their looked-for expectation. Know, then, my name is Paradox: a strange name, but proper to my descent, for I blush not to tell you truth. I am a slip of darkness, my father a Jesuit, and my mother an Anabaptist; and as my name is strange, so is my profession, and the art which I teach, myself being the first that reduced it to rules and method, bears my own name, Paradox. And I pray you, what is a Paradox? It is a Quodlibet, or strain of wit and invention screwed[627] above the vulgar conceit, to beget admiration. And (because method is the mother of discipline) I divide my Paradox[es] into these [three] heads--Masculine, Feminine, and Neuter; and first of the first, for the Masculine is more worthy than the Feminine, and the Feminine than the Neuter.
[_Draws his Book and reads._
_Masculine._[628]
1. He cannot be a Cuckold that wears a Gregorian, for a perriwig will never fit such a head.
2. A Knight of the long robe is more honourable than a Knight made in the field; for furs are dearer than spurs.
3. 'Tis better to be a coward than a Captain; for a goose lives longer than a cock of the game.
4. A Cannibal is the lovingest man to his enemy; for willingly no man eats that he loves not.
5. A Bachelor is but half a man, and being wed, he may prove more than half a monster; for Aries and Taurus rule the head and shoulders, and Capricorn reacheth as low as the knees.
6. A wittall cannot be a Cuckold: for a Cuckold is wronged by his wife, which a wittall cannot be; for _volenti non fit injuria_.
7. A Shoemaker is the fittest man of the parish to make a Constable; for he _virtuti officii_ put any man in the stocks, and enlarge him at last.
8. A prisoner is the best fencer; for he ever lies at a close ward.
9. An elder Brother may be a wise man; for he hath wherewithal to purchase experience, at any rate.
10. A Musician will never make a good Vintner; for he deals too much with flats and sharps.
11. A Drunkard is a good philosopher; for he thinks aright that the world goes round.
12. The Devil cannot take Tobacco through his nose; for St. Dunstan hath seared that up with his tongs.
13. Prentices are the nimblest Scavengers; for they can cleanse the City Stews in one day.
14. No native Physician can be excellent; for all excellent simples are foreigners.
15. A Master of Fence is more honourable than a Master of Arts; for good fighting was before good writing.
16. A Court fool must needs be learned; for he goes to school in the Porter's Lodge.
17. Burgomasters ought not to wear their fur gowns at Midsummer; for so they may bring in the sweating sickness again.
18. A Cutpurse is of the surest trade; for his work is no sooner done, but he hath his money in his hand.
_Feminine._
1. 'Tis far better to marry a widow than a maid.--_Causa patet_.
2. Downright language is the best Rhetoric to win a woman; for plain dealing is a jewel, and there is no lady but desires her lap full of them.
3. Women are to be commended for loving Stage players; for they are men of known action.
4. If a woman with child long to lie with another man, her husband must consent; for if he will not, she will do it without him.
5. Rich widows were ordained for younger brothers; for they, being born to no land, must plough in another man's soil.
6. A maid should marry before the years of discretion; for _Malitia supplet et cætera_.
7. 'Tis dangerous to wed a widow; for she hath cast her rider.
8. An English virgin sings sweeter here than at Brussells; for a voluntary is sweeter than a forc'd note.
9. A great Lady may with her honour wear her servant's picture; for a shadow yet never made a Cuckold.
10. A painted Lady best fits a Captain; for so both may fight under their colours.
11. It is good for a young popish wench to marry an old man; for so she shall be sure to keep all fasting nights.
12. A dangerous secret is safely plac'd in a woman's bosom; for no wise man would search for it there.
13. A woman of learning and tongues is an admirable creature; for a starling that can speak is a present for an Emperor.
14. There were never so many chaste wives as in this age; for now 'tis out of fashion to lie with their own husbands.
15. A great Lady should not wear her own hair; for that's as mean as a coat of her own spinning.
16. A fair woman's neck should stand awry; for so she looks as if she were looking for a kiss.
17. Women love fish better than flesh; for they will have Place, whatever they pay for it.
_Neuter._[629]
1. Old things are the best things; for there is nothing new but diseases.
2. The best bodies should wear the plainest habits; for painted Clothes were made to hide bare walls.
3. Dissemblers may safely be trusted; for their meaning is ever contrary to their words.
4. Musicians cannot be but healthful; for they live by good air.
5. An Usurer is the best Christian; for _Quantum nummorum in arca, Tantum habet et fidei_.
6. None should have license to marry but rich folks; for _Vacuum_ is a monster _in rerum natura_.
7. A hare is more subtle than a fox; for she makes more doubles than old Reynard.
8. 'Tis better to be a beggar than a Merchant; for all the world lies open to his traffic, and yet he pays no custom.
9. 'Tis more safe to be drunk with the hop than with the grape; for a man should be more inward with his Countryman than with a stranger.
10. It is better to buy honour than to deserve it; for what is far fetched and dear bought is good for Ladies.
11. A man deep in debt should be as deep in drink; for Bacchus cancels all manner of obligations.
12. Playhouses are more necessary in a well governed Commonwealth than public Schools; for men are better taught by example than precept.
13. It is better to feed on vulgar and gross meats, than on dainty and high dishes; for they that eat only partridge or quail, hath no other brood than woodcock or goose.
14. Taverns are more requisite in a City than Academies; for it is better the multitude were loving than learned.
15. A Tobacco shop and a Bawdy house are coincident; for smoke is not without fire.
16. An Almanack is a book more worthy to be studied than the history of the world; for a man to know himself is the most worthy knowledge, and there he hath twelve signs to know it by.
17. Wealth is better than wit; for few poets have had the fortune to be chosen Aldermen.
18. Marriage frees a man from care; for then his wife takes all upon her.
19. A Kennel of hounds is the best Consort;[630] for they need no tuning from morning to night.
20. The Court makes better Scholars than the University: for where a King vouchsafes to be a teacher, every man blushes to be a non-proficient.
[_Music sounds._
_Enter Pages._
_Para._ But hark! Music: they are upon entrance. I must put up.
MAIN MASQUE.
_Enter Pages 4._
_Their Song, dialoguewise._
Where shall we find relief? Is there no end of grief? Is there no comfort left? What cruel Charms bereft The patrons of our youth? We must now beg for ruth. _Enter_ Kind pity is the most _Obscurity._ Poor boys can hope for, when Their joys are lost.
OBSCURITY.
Light, I salute thee; I, Obscurity, The son of Darkness and forgetful Lethe; I, that envy thy brightness, greet thee now, Enforc'd by Fate. Fate makes the strongest bow. The ever youthful Knights by spells enchain'd, And long within my shady nooks restrain'd, Must be enlarged, and I the Usher be To their night glories; so the Fates agree. Then, put on life, Obscurity, and prove As light as light, for awe, if not for love. Lo! hear their tender year'd, kind-hearted Squires, Mourning their Master's loss; no new desires Can train them from these walks, but here they wend From shade to shade, and give their toils no end. But now will I relieve their suffering care. Hear me, fair Youths! since you so constant are In faith to your lov'd Knights, go haste apace, And with your bright lights guide them to this place; For if you fall directly, that descent, Their wished approach will farther search prevent. Haste by the virtue of a charming song, While I retrieve them, lest they lag too long.
THE CALL, OR SONG OF OBSCURITY.
Appear, Appear, you happy Knights! Here are several sorts of Lights: Fire and beauty shine together, Your slow steps inviting hither. Come away; and from your eyes Th' old shades remove, For now the Destinies Release you at the suit of Love.
So, so: 'tis well marched, march apace; Two by two fill up the place, And then with voice and measure Greet the King of Love and Pleasure. Now, Music, change thy notes, and meet Aptly with the Dancers' feet; For 'tis the pleasure of Delight That they shall triumph all this night.
THE SONG AND DANCE TOGETHER.
Frolic measures now become you, Overlong obscured Knights: What if Lethe did benumb you, Love now wakes you to delights. Love is like a golden flower, Your comely youth adorning: Pleasure is a gentle shower Shed in some April morning.
Lightly rise, and lightly fall you In the motion of your feet: Move not till our notes do call you; Music makes the action sweet. Music breathing blows the fire Which Cupids feeds with fuel, Kindling honour and desire, And taming hearts most cruel.
Quickly, quickly, mend your paces, Nimbly changing measured graces: Lively mounted high aspire, For joy is only found in fire.
Music is the soul of measure, Mixing both in equal grace; Twins are they, begot of Pleasure, When she wisely numbered space. Nothing is more old or newer Then number, all advancing; And no number can be truer Than music joined with dancing.
Every Knight elect a Beauty, Such as may thy heart inflame: Think that her bright eye doth view thee, And to her thy action frame. So shall none be faint or weary, Though treading endless paces; For they all are light and merry Whose hopes are fed with graces.
Sprightly, sprightly, end your paces, Nimbly changing measured graces: Lively mounted high aspire, For joy is only found in fire.
OBSCURITY.
Servants of Love, for so it fits you be, Since he alone hath wrought your liberty, His ceremonies now and courtly rites Perform with care, and free resolved sprites. To sullen darkness my dull steps reflect; All covet that which Nature doth affect.
_The Second Measure; which danc'd,_
SONG TO TAKE OUT THE LADIES.
On, on, brave Knights, you have well showed Each his due part in nimble dances: These Beauties to whose hands are owed Yours, wonder why You spare to try. Mark how inviting are their glances. Such, such a charm, such faces, such a call, Would make old Æson skip about the Hall.
See, see fair choice, a starry sphere Might dim bright day: choose here at pleasure. Please your own eye: approve you here, Right gentle Knights: To these soft wights View, talk and touch, but all in measure. Far far from hence be roughness, far a frown; Your fair deportment this fair night shall crown.
_After they have danced with the Ladies, and set them in their places, fall to their last Dance._
_Enter_ PARADOX, _and to him his Disciples_.
Silence, Lordings, Ladies, and fiddles! Let my tongue twang awhile. I have seen what hath been showed; and now give me leave to show what hath not been seen, for the honour of Athens. By virtue of this musical Whistle I will summon my disciples. See obedience: here they are all ready. Put forward, my paradoxical Pupils, methodically and arithmetically, one by one.
1. Behold this principal Artist that swift encounters me, whose head is honoured by his heels for dancing in a Chorus of a Tragedy presented at Athens, where he produced such learned variety of footing, and digested it so orderly and close to the ground, that he was rewarded with this relic, the cothurne or buskin of Sophocles, which for more eminence he wears on his head. The paradoxical virtue thereof is, that being dipped into River or Spring, it alters the nature of the liquor, and returneth full of wine of Chios, Palermo, or Zante.
2. This second Master of the science of footmanship (for he never came on horseback in his life) was famed at the Feast of Pallas, where in dancing he came off with such lofty tricks, turns above ground, capers, cross-capers, horse-capers, so high and so lofty performed, that he for prize bore away the Helmet of Pallas. The paradoxical virtue of the Cask is, that in our travels if we fall among enemies, show but this, and they suddenly vanish all like fearful shadows.
3. Now, view this third piece of Excellence: this is he that put down all the Bakers, at the feast of Ceres, and so danced there, as if he had kneaded dough with his feet: wherewith the Goddess was so tickled, that she in reward set this goodly loaf on his head, and endued it with this paradoxical influence, that cut off it and eat as often as you please, it straight fills up again, and is in the instant healed of any wound our hunger can inflict on it.
4. Approach now thou that comest in the rear of my disciples, but mayest march in the vanguard of thy validity; for at the celebration of the feast of Venus Cytherea, this Amoroso did express such passion with his eyes, such casts, such winks, such glances, and with his whole body such delightful gestures, such cringes, such pretty wanton mimics, that he won the applause of all; and, as it was necessary at the Feast of that Goddess, he had then a most ample and inflaming codpiece, which, with his other graces, purchased him this prize, the Smock of Venus, wrapped turbanlike on his head, the same she had on when she went to bed to Mars, and was taken napping by Vulcan. The Paradox of it is, that if it be hanged on the top of our Maypole, it draws to us all the young lads and lasses near adjoining, without power to part till we strike sail ourselves. And now I have named our Maypole, go bring it forth, though it be more cumbersome than the Trojan horse: bring it by force of arms, and see you fix it fast in the midst of this place, lest, when you encircle it with your capricious dances, it falls from the foundation, lights upon some lady's head, and cuffs off her perriwig. But now for the glory of Athens!
_Music plays the Antimasque. The disciples dance one Strain._
We have give you a taste of the excellency of our Athenial Revels, which I will now dignify with mine own person. Lie here, impediment, whereof being freed, I will descend. O, you Authors of Greek wonders! what ostent is this? What supernatural Paradox? a wooden Maypole find the use of voluntary motion! Assuredly this tree was formerly the habitation of some wood nymph, for the Dryads (as the Poets say) live in trees; and perhaps, to honour my dancing, the nymph hath crept into this tree again: so I apprehend it, and will entertain her courtesy.
PARADOX, _his Disciples, and the Maypole, all dance_.
Did ever eye see the like footing of a tree, or could any tree but an Athenian tree do this? or could any nymph move it but an Athenian nymph? Fair Nymph, though I cannot arrive at thy lips, yet will I kiss the wooden mask that hides thy no doubt most amiable face.
PARADOX _offers to kiss and a Nymph's head meets him out of the Maypole_.
Wonder of wonders! Sweet Nymph, forbear: my whole structure trembles: mortality cannot stand the brightness of thy countenance. Pursue me not, I beseech thee: put up thy face, for love's sake. Help, help! Disciples, take away this dismal peal from me. Rescue me, with all your violence.--So, the Devil is gone, and I will not stay long after. Lordings and Ladies: if there be any here desirous to be instructed in the mystery of Paradoxing, you shall have me at my lodging in the black and white Court, at the sign of the Naked Boy. And so to you all the best wishes of the night.
_Enter_ MOUNTEBANK, _like a Swiss_.
Stay, you presumptuous Paradox! I have viewed thy antics and thy Puppet, which have kindled in me the fire of Emulation. Look; am I not in habit as fantastic as thyself? Dost thou hope for grace with Ladies, by thy novel doctrine? I am a man of art: witness this, my Charming Rod, wherewith I work Miracles; and whereas thou like a fabulous Greek, hast made monsters of thy Disciples, lo! I will oppose squadron against squadron, and plain truth against painted fiction. Now for [thy] moving Ale-sign: but for frighting the Devil out of it, I could encounter thee with Tottenham High Cross, or Cheap Cross (though it be new guilt), but I scorn odds, and therefore will I affront thee pole to pole. Go, Disciples: usher in our lofty enchanted motion; and, Paradox, now betake you to your tackling, for you deal with men that have got air and fire in them.
PARADOX.
Assist me, thou active nymph, and you, my glorious associates. Victory! Victory for Athens!
[_Dance._
MOUNTEBANK.
Accomplished Greek! now, as we are true Mountebanks, this was bravely performed on both parts, and nothing now remains but to make these two Maypoles better acquainted. But we must give place: the Knights appear.
OBSCURITY _Enter_.
Enough of these night-sports! part fairly, Knights, And leave an edge on pleasure, lest these lights I suddenly dim all; and pray, how then Will these gay Ladies shift among you men, In such confusion? Some their homes may miss: Obscurity knows tricks as mad as this. But make your parting innocent for me; I will no author now of Error be. Myself shall pass with you, a friend of light, Giving to all this round a kind good night.
LAST SONG.[631]
We must away: yet our slack pace may show 'Tis by constraint we this fair Orb forego. Our longer stay may forfeit what but now Love hath obtained for us: to him we bow, And to this gentler Power, who so contriv'd That we from sullen shades are now depriv'd, And hither brought, where Favour, Love, and Light, So gloriously shine, they banish Night. More would we say, but Fate forbids us more.-- Our Cue is out--Good night is gone before.[632]
[623] "Fever-lurdens"--a jocular term for slothfulness.
[624] "Pin and the web" was the name of a disorder of the eye.
[625] The words "_et fiet_" are omitted in Add. MS.--Nichols gives "at first."--It may be remarked that Nichols' transcript is made throughout in a slovenly manner.
[626] "But" is omitted by Collier, but found in Add. MS. and Nichols.
[627] So Add. MS. and Nichols.--Collier gives "strued."
[628] In Add. MS. and Nichols are some additional "paradoxes."
[629] "Epicæne" in the MS. is struck out and "Newter" written as a correction.
[630] Concert.
[631] In Nichols' _Progresses_ the Masque concludes with the following song:--
"The hour of sweety night decays a-pace, And now warm beds are better than this place. All time is long that is unwillingly spent, But hours are minutes when they yield content: The gathered flowers we love that breathe sweet scent, But loathe them, their sweet odours being spent. It is a life is never ill To lie and sleep in roses still.
The rarer pleasure is it is more sweet, And friends are kindest when they seldom meet. Who would not hear the nightingale still sing, Or who grew ever weary of the spring? The day must have her night, the spring her fall, All is divided, none is lord of all: It were a most delightful thing To live in a perpetual spring."
In the third line we should doubtless read "unwilling" for "unwillingly."
[632] In Add. MS. follow some "paradoxes" which "were read at Gray's Inn but left out at Court to avoid tediousness." Most of these are found in pp. 428-432. [Transcriber's Note: numbered paragraphs under headers "Masculine," "Feminine," and "Neuter."]
Amicis,[633] amici nostri dignissimi dignissimis,
EPIGRAMMA
D.
JOHANNES MARSTONIUS.
Ye ready friends, spare your unneedful bays: This work despairful Envy must even praise.
Phoebus hath voiced it loud through echoing skies: "Sejanus' Fall shall force thy merit rise:"
For never English shall, or hath before Spoke fuller graced. He could say much, not more.
[633] Prefixed to the 1605 4to. of Ben Jonson's _Sejanus_.
INDEX.
Abhominable, ii. 219
Accourt, i. 52
Accoustrements, iii. 261
Accustrements, i. 24
Achelous, ii. 144
Actors (two or more parts taken by one actor), i. 8
Adamant softened by goat's blood, iii. 151
Aderliver, ii. 18
Admiral, iii. 84
_Adore_ and _adorn_ (confusion between), iii. 362
Ægina, iii. 290
Affects (= affections), i. 119, 160
A-jax, ii. 368; iii. 377
Allay, ii. 73
All-canning, iii. 263, 335
Aloune (_Fr._ allons), ii. 355
Ambages, iii. 173
Anatomy, iii. 139, 236
Ancome, iii. 51
_And ever she cried Shoot home_, iii. 15
_Anechou e apechou_, ii. 176
An-end, iii. 164
Aphrodisiacs, i. 239
Apple-squire, ii. 383
Aporn, ii. 65
Apostata, iii. 220
Approvement, i. 189
Apricock, ii. 130
Aquinian, iii. 327
Aretine, _Puttana Errante_ falsely ascribed to, iii. 377; Aretine's _Pictures_, iii. 275
Aristotle quoted, iii. 329; _Aristotle's Problems_, i. 152
Armed Epilogue, i. 93
Assay ("give me assay"), i. 64
Assured, i. 109
At all, iii. 318
Aunt, ii. 14
Babies, iii. 362
Babion, iii. 364
Bable, i. 85, 158; ii. 69
Bacchis, iii. 356
Backside, iii. 101
Bacon, Friar, ii. 125
Badged coach, iii. 350
Baffle, ii. 401
Baldessar Castiglione, i. 222; iii. 264
Bale of dice, ii. 382
Balloon, iii. 17
Bankrout, i. 138
Banks, i. 21
Barbary sugar, ii. 360
Barksteed, William, iii. 243
Barmy froth, iii. 339
Barnes, Barnabe, iii. 358
Bases, iii. 153
Basilisco, ii. 348
Basilus manus, iii. 192
Basket (for collecting food for poor prisoners), iii. 111
Bastard, Thomas, quoted by Marston, _Addenda_, vol. i.
Battle fate, ii. 350
Bawbees, i. 204
Bayard ("bold as blind Bayard"), ii. 324
Beaking, i. 133
Bear a brain, ii. 60, 124
Bear no coals, i. 168
Beat, i. 146
Beaver, iii. 350
Becco, i. 214, 287
Beg for a fool, i. 233; ii. 347; iii. 217
Beggar-wench, jest about, iii. 302
Bel and the Dragon, ii. 131
Belly-cheer, iii. 366
Bescumber, iii. 363
Bessicler's armour, i. 30
_Bewray_ and _beray_, i. 114; ii. 359
Bezel, i. 240; iii. 275, 349
Black ox trod o' my foot, iii. 119
Blackfriars, feather-makers reside at, i. 202; Blackfriars' Theatre, i. 199
Black-guard, ii. 182
Blacks, ii. 339
Blacksaunt, iii. 347
Blind Gew, i. 13
Blue coat, iii. 50, 301
Books called in, ii. 48
Boot-carouse, iii. 275
Borage in wine, iii. 394
Bottle-ale (term of reproach), iii. 339
Brack, i. 9, 140
Bragot, ii. 101
Braided, iii. 325, 337
Brakes, i. 320
Brasil, iii. 272
Brides serenaded on the morning after their wedding, ii. 389
Brill, iii. 348
Brittany, i. 26
Browne, Sir Thomas, quoted, ii. 197; iii. 151, 241
Budge, iii. 346, 368
Buffin, iii. 14
Bully, i. 79; ii. 353
Burbage, Richard, i. 201
Burbolt, ii. 323
Burgonian's ward, iii. 373
Buried treasure, iii. 219
Burn, iii. 241
Busk, i. 9
Busk-point, i. 274; iii. 255
Buss, ii. 90
_But a little higher_, &c., _Addenda_, vol. i.
Cable-hatband, i. 31
Cables (used as a protection from the fire of the enemy), i. 30
Camomile ("mount like camomile"), ii. 144
Campion, Thomas, _Addenda_, vol. i.
Cant, i. 132
Carpet-boy, i. 20
Carry coals, i. 288
Carver ("you're a cunning carver"), iii. 141
Case (kaze), ii. 11
Case (= covering), iii. 109
Case of rapiers, i. 30
Cast o' ladies, i. 238
Castilio, i. 222; iii. 264
Casting-bottle, i. 13
Catso, i. 216, 304, &c.
Censure, i. 202; ii. 255, 323
Chamlet, ii. 345
Chaun, i. 46
Cheat-bread, iii. 103
Cheator, ii. 406
Cherries at an angel a pound, iii. 15
Chittizen, iii. 19
Chopines, ii. 50
Christ-Church Parish, iii. 12
Chuck (term of endearment), iii. 104
Cinædian, iii. 310
Cinquepace, iii. 268
Cipres, i. 258
Cittern-heads, iii. 301
Claw, i. 105
Clerkenwell, ii. 16
Close fight, i. 24
Clove-stuck face, iii. 348
Clumsy, i. 99
Clutch, i. 144
Cluttered, i. 120; iii. 356
Coast, i. 312
Cockatrice, i. 301; ii. 18; iii. 224
Codpis, iii. 273
Cog a die, i. 48
Coistered, i. 293
Collogue, i. 302
Colour de roy, i. 111
Come aloft Jack-an-apes, i. 214
Come on five, iii. 318
Commodities ("take up commodities"), i. 305, &c.
Common-place book out of plays, iii. 372
Complements, i. 233
Consort, iii. 432
Convey, ii. 387
Copy, ii. 408
Coranto, i. 32
Corbed, i. 130
Cork shoe, i. 81
Cornish daws, iii. 332
Coronel, iii. 212
Corsive, iii. 151
Cote, i. 167
Crab's baked guts, i. 239; iii. 320
Crack (pert boy), ii. 383
Creak's noise, ii. 45
Cressit light, i. 41
Cross-bite, ii. 381, 387
Crowds, ii. 373
Crudled, i. 26
Cuckold's haven, iii. 68
Cuckquean, ii. 377
Cullion, i. 206; iii. 89
Cullisses, ii. 141
Culvering, iii. 365
Curson'd, i. 55
Curtain Theatre, _Romeo and Juliet_ performed at, iii. 373
Custard ("let custards quake"), iii. 312
Cut ("in the old cut"), i. 11
Cut and long tail, iii. 10
Cutter, ii. 401
Cutting, ii. 45
Cyllenian, iii. 274
Dametas, iii. 268
Daniel the Prophet, ii. 150; iii. 341
Daniel, Samuel, iii. 283
Day ("let him have day"), ii. 8
Day, John, his _Humour out of Breath_ dedicated to _Signior Nobody_, i. 5; quotation from his _Isle of Gulls_, i. 289
Death o' sense, ii. 158
Death's head on rings, ii. 16
Decimo sexto, i. 203
Defend ("God defend!"), i. 204
Demosthenes paid for his silence, ii. 152
Denier, iii. 315
Depaint, i. 90; iii. 271
Deprave, ii. 126
Diet, ii. 370; diet-drink, ii. 15
Diety, ii. 24
Digby, Sir Everard, ii. 193
Dilling, ii. 344; iii. 10
Ding, i. 11, 166; iii. 282
Diogenes the Cynic, scandalous story about, iii. 319
Dipsas, i. 238
Discreet number, iii. 314
Disgest, i. 140, 146, 161; ii. 179
_Divines and dying men may talk of hell_, &c., iii. 225
Division, i. 48, 81
_Do me right and dub me knight_, i. 81
Donne's verses _On a Flea on his Mistress' Bosom_, iii. 359
Donzel del Phebo, i. 300
Dowland, John, his _First Book of Songs_ quoted, iii. 14, 55
Drake's ship at Deptford, iii. 59
Drayton, Michael, iii. 283, 363
Drink drunk, iii. 84
Dropsy-noul, iii. 340
Dun cow with a kettle on her head, i. 72
Durance, iii. 15
Dutch ancients, iii. 351
Eager, ii. 73
_Eastward Ho!_ iii. 5; satirical reflections on the Scots, iii. 65
Ela ("I have strained a note above Ela"), i. 86
Enagonian, iii. 336
Enginer, iii. 97
Enhanceress, ii. 15
Epictetus, saying of, ii. 176
Erasmus, resemblance between a passage of his _Colloquies_ and passage of _First Part of Antonio and Mellida_, i. 62
Ercole, Duke of Ferrara, ii. 117
Estro, ii. 156
Euphues, ii. 69
Fact, ii. 95; iii. 224
Fage, iii. 308
Fair, iii. 350
Falls, iii. 267
False lights, iii. 337
Family of Love, ii. 13
Far fet and dear bought is good for ladies, i. 306
Fart ("get a fart from a dead man"), iii. 90
Fawn, ii. 115
Feak, iii. 265
Fear (= frighten), ii. 158
Fear no colours, iii. 153
Featherbeds used in naval engagements as a protection against the fire of the enemy, i. 30
Feature, iii. 251
_Feed and be fat, my fair Calipolis_, ii. 404
Fencing, terms in, iii. 373
Fere, iii. 225
Fetch, i. 127
Fever-lurdens, iii. 420
Fico, ii. 133; iii. 320
Figent, iii. 60
Fin ("the fin of his eyes"), i. 214
Fist, ii. 42, 73, 82; iii. 90
Flap-dragon, ii. 70
Flat-cap, ii. 32; iii. 11
Fleam, i. 230
Fleamy, i. 133
Flushing, i. 234
Flyboat, i. 87
Foisting-hound, iii. 41
Foot-cloth, i. 213; ii. 153
Foutra, ii. 32
Fowl (fool), i. 260
Frail commodities, iii. 40
French brawl, ii. 377
Froe, ii. 13
Froterer, ii. 384
Fumatho, ii. 184
Galleasse, i. 87, 162
Gallemawfrey, iii. 139
Gamashes, ii. 344
Garboil, iii. 356
Geason, ii. 331, 339
Gelded vicary, iii. 324, 337
_Gelid_ and _jellied_, ii. 291
Gern, i. 55, 111; ii. 203, 403
Get-penny, iii. 87
Gew, the actor, i. 13; _Addenda_, vol. i.
Ghosts of misers, iii. 219
Giants at the Lord Mayor's pageant, ii. 50
Gib-cat, ii. 203
Giglet, ii. 340, 400
Gilt, iii. 323
Give arms, iii. 11
Give further day, ii. 328
Glaired, iii. 277
Glassy Priapus, iii. 309
Glaver, iii. 263, 339
Glibbery, i. 22
Glory, ii. 225
Gnatho, iii. 291
Goat's blood, iii. 151
God you good even, iii. 5; God ye good morrow, ii. 393
God's neaks, i. 54
Gold ends, iii. 28
Gold-end man, iii. 103
Goldsmiths' Row, i. 205
Good man (= wealthy man), ii. 57
Goose-turd-green, ii. 47
Gorget, ii. 260
Gormand, iii. 327
Granado netherstocks, iii. 301
Grand grincome, ii. 31
Great man's head, iii. 348
Gresco, iii. 93
Griffith, Margaret, i. 233
Griffon, i. 297
Grillus, iii. 281
Ground, i. 37; iii. 142
Guarded, i. 232; iii. 346
Guards, ii. 387; iii. 14
Guilpin, Edward, iii. 287, 367
Gundolet, i. 57
Gurnet's head, iii. 341
Guzzel dogs, iii. 308
Half-clam'd, i. 150
Half-crown ordinary, ii. 406
Hall, Joseph, iii. 281-6; Marston's imitations of, iii. 310, 320, 323
Hall ("A hall! a hall!"), iii. 372
_Hamlet_, quoted in _The Malcontent_, i. 201, 264; early popularity of, iii. 49, 52; imitation of passages from, i. 224; iii. 133, 134, 137, 230
Hangers, i. 36; ii. 406
Harvey, John, i. 205
Hatch short sword, ii. 406
Hazard, iii. 100
Head-men, iii. 37
Healths in urine, ii. 70
Heathy, i. 15; _Addenda_, vol. i.
Hem, ii. 14
_Henry IV.,