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A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume I.

R >> R. Dodsley >> A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume I.









A NEW INTERLUDE, CALLED THERSITES.



EDITION


_A new Enterlude called Thersytes. This Enterlude followynge dothe
declare howe that the greatest boesters are not the greatest doers_.



THE NAMES OF THE PLAYERS.


THERSITES, _a boster_. MATER, _a mother_.
MULCIBER, _a smyth_. MILES, _a knyght_.
TELEMACHUS, _a childe_.


[Col.] Imprinted at London, by John Tysdale and are to be solde at hys
shop in the vpper ende of Lvmbard streete, in Alhallowes Churche yarde
neare vntoo grace church. 4°. Black letter.




HASLEWOOD'S PREFACE.[568]


In the comic movements of life, the chief dependence of society will ever
be upon the drama; still the history of the English stage remains very
imperfect, obscure, and unsatisfactory. Perhaps of no period are fewer
particulars known than that in, which a struggle for precedence arose
between "the moral new interlude" and "the merry new interlude;" or when
common sense, being partially relieved from bigotry and cold
superstition, gave licence to the infant votaries of the drama to drive
from thespian scaffolds old _Vice_, the prosing, loquacious hero of
"Mysteries and Moralities." Somewhere near that period, the two following
pieces, written for "buskined boys," were performed, and being
undoubtedly esteemed popular, both printed, but without dates. An entry
was made of the first as "Jack Juggeler and Mrs Boundgrace," in the
stationers' book, by William Copland, in 1562-63. In "Thersites," the
author, by the epilogue, has noted the precise time of its being written,
in mentioning the birth of Prince Edward (afterwards King Edward VI.),
which happened the 12th of August 1537, and invoking the Almighty to save
the "Queen, lovely Lady Jane," who is supposed to have died the second
day after that event. If then acted, it was probably revived on the
accession of Queen Elizabeth, and printed by Tysdale, whose typographical
labours did not commence in All-Hallows' Churchyard until 1561. So rare
were both interludes, that their existence had long been doubted, when,
in 1810, they were discovered in a private collection of ancient
plays.[569] That collection was so large, and contained specimens of the
early drama so little known, as to induce a spirited bibliopolist to
purchase the whole, projecting a republication of "Old English Mysteries,
Moralities, Interludes, Pageants, and Plays." It was to have extended to
twenty octavo volumes. Unfortunately, an announcement of a similar
nature, although upon a smaller scale (and afterwards meagrely executed),
deterred the intended proprietors from the venture of the large capital
necessary to complete so extensive an undertaking. Hence the whole
collection was promiscuously dispersed, and so widely, as to prevent a
reference to these interludes, when needed, to ascertain the character
and size of the black letter type used. That circumstance has occasioned
a deviation from the strict rule of a facsimile, followed in all other
respects, except adding, for convenience, a pagination. By the use of
modern type, however, another specimen is secured from the valuable
private press of an absent member. At the same time, convinced such a
deviation can seldom be tolerated, there can only be pleaded the
opportunity of extending some knowledge of two unique copies: the now
almost "olden" venial transgression of him who will, probably, continue
sinning, until the forced guest to banquet with the doctor and his
associate.

_May_ 29, 1820.


Mr Child observes:[570] "The play does not require particular notice. Its
lively absurdity could not have failed to be entertaining to an easy
audience, and is not tiresome now. _Thersites_ indulges plentifully in
one of the privileges of the old _Vice_--that of talking incoherent
nonsense. There is a vigour in some parts quite unusual in these things,
and many of the lines in Skelton's metre have some of his power, together
with all his coarseness. The passage, pp. 84-86, may remind the reader
of that remarkable poem, 'Elynour Rummyng.'"






THERSITES.



_Thersites cometh in, first having a club upon his neck_.[571]

Have in a ruffler forth of the Greek land,
Called Thersites, if ye will me know:
Aback, give me room, in my way do ye not stand;
For if ye do, I will soon lay you low.
In Homer of my acts ye have read, I trow:
Neither Agamemnon nor Ulysses I spared to check:
They could not bring me to be at their beck.
Of late from the Siege of Troy I returned,
Where all my harness except this club I lost.
In an old house there it was quite burned,
While I was preparing victuals for the host.
I must needs get me new, whatsoever it cost;
I will go seek adventures, for I can not be idle;
I will hamper some of the knaves in a bridle.
It grieveth me to hear how the knaves do brag;
But by supreme Jupiter, when I am harnessed well,
I shall make the dasters[572] to renne[573] into a bag,
To hide them fro me as fro the devil of hell,
I doubt not but hereafter of me ye shall hear tell:
How I have made the knaves for to play couch-quail.
But now to the shop of Mulciber to go I will not fail.

[_Mulciber must have a shop made in the place, and Thersites cometh
before it saying aloud_:

Mulciber, whom the poets doth call the god of fire,
Smith unto Jupiter, king over all:
Come forth of thy office, I thee desire,
And grant me my petition, I ask a thing but small.
I will none of thy lightning, that thou art wont to make
For the gods supernal, for ire when they do shake;
With which they thrust the giants down to hell
That were at a convention heaven to buy and sell.
But I would have some help of Lemnos and Ithalia,[574]
That of their steel by thy craft _condatur mihi galea_.


MULCIBER.

What, fellow Thersites, do ye speak Latin now?
Nay then, farewell, I make God a vow,
I do not you understand, no Latin is in my pallet.
[_And then he must do, as he would go away_.


THERSITES.

I say, abide, good Mulciber, I pray thee make me
a sallet.[575]


MULCIBER.

Why, Thersites, hast thou any wit in thy head?
Wouldst thou have a sallet now? all the herbs are dead!
Beside that it is not meet for a smith
To gather herbs and sallets to meddle with.
Go get thee to my lover Venus,
She hath sallets enough for all us:
I eat none such sallets, for now I wax old,
And for my stomach they are very cold.

THERSITES.

Now I pray to Jupiter, that thou die a cuckold!
I mean a sallet, with which men do fight.


MULCIBER.

It is a small tasting of a man's might,
That he should for any matter
Fight with a few herbs in a platter:
No great laud should follow that victory.


THERSITES.

God's passion, Mulciber, where is thy wit and memory?
I would have a sallet made of steel.


MULCIBER.

Why, sir, in your stomach long you shall it feel,
For steel is hard for to digest.


THERSITES.

Man's bones and sides, he is worse than a beast!
I would have a sallet to wear on my head,
Which under my chin with a thong red
Buckled shall be:
Dost thou yet perceive me?


MULCIBER.

Your mind now I see:
Why, thou peevish lad,
Art thou almost mad,
Or well in thy wit?
Get thee a wallet:
Would thou have a sallet?
What wouldst thou do with it?


THERSITES.

I pray thee, good Mulciber, make no mo bones,
But let me have a sallet made at once.


MULCIBER.

I must do somewhat for this knave; [_Aside_.
What manner of sallet, sir, would ye have?


THERSITES.

I would have such a one, that nother might nor main
Should pierce it through, or part it in twain;
Which nother gunstone nor sharp spear
Should be able other to hurt or tear.
I would have it also for to save my head,
If Jupiter himself would have me dead;
And if he in a fume would cast at me his fire,
This sallet I would have to keep me from his ire.


MULCIBER.

I perceive your mind.
Ye shall find me kind;
I will for you prepare:--

[_And then he goeth into his shop, and maketh a sallet for him; at the
last he saith_:

Here, Thersites, do this sallet wear,
And on thy head it bear;
And none shall work thee care.

[_Then Mulciber goeth into his shop, until he is called again_.


THERSITES.

Now would I not fear with any bull to fight,
Or with a ramping lion, nother by day nor night.
Oh, what great strength is in my body so lusty,
Which for lack of exercise is now almost rusty.
Hercules in comparison to me was but a boy,
When the bandog Cerberus from hell he bare away:
When he killed the lion, hydra, and the boar[576] so wild.
Compare him to me, and he was but a child!
Why, Samson, I say, hast thou no more wit?
Wouldst thou be as strong as I? come, suck thy mother's teat!
Ween you that David, that little elfish boy,
Should with his sling have take my life away?
Nay, i-wis, Goliath, for all his five stones,
I would have quashed his little boyish bones.
Oh, how it would do my heart much good
To see some of the giants before Noe's flood!
I would make the knaves to cry crik,[577]
Or else with my club their brains I will break
But, Mulciber, yet I have not with thee do:
My head is armed, my neck I would have too;
And also my shoulders with some good habergin,
That the devil, if he shot at me, could not enter in.
For I am determined great battle to make,
Except my fumishness by some means may aslake.


MULCIBER.

Buckle on this habergin, as fast as thou can,
And fear for the meeting of nother beast nor man.
If it were possible for one to shoot an oak,
This habergin will defend thee from the stroke.
Let them throw milestones at thee as thick as hail,
Yet thee to kill they shall [of] their purpose fail.
If Malvern Hills should on thy shoulders light,
They shall not hurt them, nor suppress thy might.
If Bevis of Hampton, Colburn, and Guy,
Will thee assay, set not by them a fly!
To be brief, this habergin shall thee save
Both by land and water; now play the lusty knave.
[_Then he goeth into his shop again_.


THERSITES.

When I consider my shoulders, that so broad be,
When the other parts of my body I do behold,
I verily think that none in Christian'ty
With me to meddle dare be so bold.
Now have at the lions on Cots'old![578]
I will neither spare for heat nor for cold.
Where art thou, King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table?
Come, bring forth your horses out of the stable!
Lo, with me to meet they be not able:
By the mass, they had rather wear a bable.
Where art thou, Gawain the courteous and Kay the crabbed?
Here be a couple of knights cowardish and scabbed!
Appear in thy likeness, Sir Libeus Disconius,[579]
If thou wilt have my club light on thy _headibus_.
Lo, ye may see he beareth not the face
With me to try a blow in this place.
How, sirrah, approach, Sir Launcelot de Lake,
What, renne ye away, and for fear quake?
Now he that did thee a knight make
Thought never that thou any battle shouldst take.
If thou wilt not come thyself, some other of thy fellows send:
To battle I provoke them; themselves let them defend.
Lo, for all the good that ever they see,
They will not once set hand to fight with me.
O good Lord, how broad is my breast
And strong withal, for whole is my chest.
He that should meddle with me should have shrewd rest.
Behold you my hands, my legs, and my feet;
Every part is strong, proportionable, and meet.
Think you that I am not fear'd in field and street?
Yes, yes, God wot, they give me the wall,
Or else with my club I make them to fall.
Back, knaves, I say to them, then for fear they quake;
And take me then to the tavern, and good cheer me make.
The proctor and his men I made to renne their ways,
And some went to hide them in broken hays.[580]
I tell you at a word,
I set not a turd
By none of them all:
Early and late I will walk,
And London streets stalk,
Spite of them great and small:
For I think verily,
That none in heaven so high,
Nor yet in hell so low,
While I have this club in my hand,
Can he able me to withstand,
Or me to overthrow.
But, Mulciber, yet I must thee desire
To make me briggen[581] irons for mine arms,
And then I will love thee as mine own sire;
For without them I cannot be safe from all harms.
Those once had, I will not set a straw
By all the world, for then I will by awe
Have all my mind, or else, by the holy rood,
I will make them think the devil carrieth them to the wood.[582]
If no man will with me battle take,
A voyage to hell quickly I will make,
And there I will beat the devil and his dame,
And bring the souls away: I fully intend the same.
After that in hell I have ruffled so,
Straight to old Purgatory will I go.
I will clean that, [and] so purge [it] round about,
That we shall need no pardons to help them out.
If I have not fight enough this ways,
I will climb to heaven and fet away Peter's keys;
I will keep them myself and let in a great rout;
What, should such a fisher keep good fellows out?


MULCIBER.

Have here, Thersites, briggen irons bright,
And fear thou no man manly to fight;
Though he be stronger than Hercules or Samson,
Be thou prest and bold to set him upon.
Nother Amazon nor Xerxes with their whole rabble
Thee to assail shall find it profitable.
I warrant thee they will flee from thy face,
As doth an hare from the dogs in a chace.
Would not thy black and rusty grim beard,
Now thou art so armed, make any man afeard?
Surely, if Jupiter did see thee in this gear,
He would renne away, and hide him for fear!
He would think that Typhaeus the giant were alive,
And his brother Enceladus, again with him to strive.
If that Mars, of battle the god stout and bold,
In this array should chance thee to behold,
He would yield up his sword unto thee,
And god of battle (he would say) thou shouldst be.
Now fare thou well, go the world through,
And seek adventures, thou art man good enou'.


THERSITES.

Mulciber, while the stars shall shine in the sky,
And Phaeton's horses with the sun's chariot shall fly;
While the morning shall go before noon,
And cause the darkness to vanish away soon:
While that the cat shall love well milk,
And while that women shall love to go in silk:
While beggars have lice,
And cockneys are nice:
While pardoners can lie,
Merchants can buy,
And children cry:
While all these last, and more,
Which I keep in store,
I do me faithfully bind
Thy kindness to bear in mind.
But yet, Mulciber, one thing I ask more:
Hast thou ever a sword now in store?
I would have such a one that would cut stones,
And pare a great oak down at once.
That were a sword, lo, even for the nonce.


MULCIBER.

Truly I have such a one in my shop,
That will pare iron, as it were a rope.
Have, here it is, gird it to thy side:
Now fare thou well, Jupiter be thy guide!


THERSITES.

Gramercy, Mulciber, with my whole heart
Give me thy hand, and let us depart.[583]

[_Mulciber goeth into his shop again, and Thersites saith forth_:

Now I go hence, and put myself in prease:[584]
I will seek adventures; yea, and that I will not cease.
If there be any present here this night,
That will take upon them with me to fight,
Let them come quickly, and the battle shall be pight.
Where is Cacus, that knave not worth a groat,
That was wont to blow clouds out of his throat;
Which stole Hercules kine, and hid them in his cave?
Come hither, Cacus, thou lubber and false knave:
I will teach all wretches by thee to beware!
If thou come hither, I trap thee in a snare;
Thou shalt have knocked bread and ill-fare.
How say you, good godfather, that look so stale,
Ye seem a man to be born in the vale?
Dare ye adventure with me a stripe or two?
Go, coward, go, hide thee as thou wast wont to do!
What a sort of dastards have we here!
None of you to battle with me dare appear.
What say you, heart of gold, of countenance so demure?
Will you fight with me? no, I am right sure.
Fye, blush not, woman, I will do you no harm,
Except I had you sooner to keep my back warm.
Alas, little pums, why are ye so sore afraid?
I pray you show how long it is, since ye were a maid?
Tell me in mine ear; sirs, she hath me told
That gone was her maidenhead at thrusteen[585] year old!
By lady, she was loth to keep it too long:
_And I were a maid again_[586] now may be here song.[587]
Do after my counsel of maidens the whole bevy,
Quickly rid your maidenheads, for they are vengeance heavy,
Well, let all go: why, will none come in
With me to fight, that I may pare his skin?

[_The Mater cometh in_.


MATER

What say you, my son, will ye fight? God it defend!
For what cause to war do you now pretend?
Will ye commit to battles dangerous
Your life that is to me so precious?


THERSITES.

I will go, I will go; stop not my way!
Hold me not, good mother, I heartily you pray.
If there be any lions or other wild beast,
That will not suffer the husbandman in rest,
I will go seech them, and bid them to a feast:
They shall aby bitterly the coming of such a guest.
I will search for them both in bush and shrub,
And lay on a load with this lusty club.


MATER.

O my sweet son, I am thy mother;
Wilt thou kill me, and thou hast none other?


THERSITES.

No, mother, no, I am not of such iniquity,
That I will defile my hands upon thee.
But be content, mother, for I will not rest
Till I have fought with some man or wild beast.


MATER.

Truly, my son, if that ye take this way,
This shall be the conclusion, mark what I shall say.
Other I will drown myself for sorrow,
And feed fishes with my body before to-morrow,
Or with a sharp sword surely I will me kill:
Now thou mayst save me, if it be thy will.
I will also cut my paps away,
That gave thee suck so many a day;
And so in all the world it shall be known,
That by my own son I was overthrown.
Therefore, if my life be to thee pleasant,
That which I desire, good son, do me grant.


THERSITES.

Mother, thou spendest thy wind but in waste;
The goddess of battle her fury on me hath cast.
I am fully fixed battle for to taste:
Oh, how many to death I shall drive in haste!
I will ruffle this club about my head,
Or else I pray God I never die in my bed.
There shall never a stroke be stroken with my hand,
But they shall think that Jupiter doth thunder in the land.


MATER.

My own sweet son, I, kneeling on my knee,
And both my hands holding up to thee,
Desire thee to cease, and no battle make:
Call to thee patience, and better ways take.


THERSITES.

Tush, mother, I am deaf; I will thee not hear.
No, no, if Jupiter here himself now were,
And all the gods, and Juno his wife,
And loving Minerva that abhorreth all strife:
If all these, I say, would desire me to be content,
They did their wind but in vain spent;[588]
I will have battle in Wales or in Kent,
And some of the knaves I will all-to rent.[589]
Where is the valiant knight, Sir Isenbras?
Appear, sir, I pray you, dare ye not show your face?
Where is Robin John and Little Hood?[590]
Approach hither quickly, if ye think it good;
I will teach such outlaws with Christ's curses,
How they take hereafter away abbots' purses.
Why, will no adventure appear in this place?
Where is Hercules with his great mace?
Where is Busiris, that fed his horses
Full like a tyrant with dead men's corses?[591]
Come, any of you both,
And I make an oath,
That ere I eat any bread,
I will drive a wain,
Yea, for need twain,
Between your body and your head.
This[592] passeth my brains;
Will none take the pains
To try with me a blow?
Oh, what a fellow am I,
Whom every man doth fly,
That doth me but once know!


MATER.

Son, all do you fear,
That be present here;
They will not with you fight.
You, as you be worthy,
Have now the victory
Without tasting of your might.
Here is none, I trow,
That proffereth you a blow:
Man, woman, nor child.
Do not set your mind
To fight with the wind:
Be not so mad nor wild.


THERSITES.

I say, arise, whosoever will fight:
I am to battle here ready-dight.
Come hither, other swain or knight;
Let me see who dare present him to my sight!
Here with my club ready I stand,
If any will come to take them in hand.


MATER.

There is no hope left in my breast
To bring my son into better rest:
He will do nothing at my request;
He regardeth me no more than a beast.
I see no remedy; but still I will pray
To God my son to guide in his way;
That he may have a prosperous journeying,
And to be safe at his returning.
Son, God above grant this my oration
That, when in battle thou shalt have concertation
With your enemies, other far or near,
No wound in them nor in you may appear,
So that ye nother kill nor be killed.


THERSITES.

Mother, thy petition, I pray God, be fulfilled,
For then no knaves' blood shall be spilled.
Fellows, keep my counsel; by the mass, I do but crake:[593]
I will be gentle enough, and no business make.
But yet I will make her believe that I am a man--
Think you that I will fight? no, no, but with the can.
Except I find my enemy on this wise,
That he be asleep, or else cannot arise.
If his arms and his feet be not fast bound,
I will not proffer a stripe for a thousand pound.
Farewell, mother, and tarry here no longer,
For after prowess of chivalry I do both thirst and hunger:
I will beat the knaves as flat as a conger.

[_Then the mother goeth in the place which is prepared for her_.

What, how long shall I tarry; be your hearts in your hose?
Will there none of you in battle me oppose?
Come, prove me, why stand you so in doubt?
Have you any wild blood that ye would have let out?
Alack, that a man's strength cannot be knowen,
Because that he lacketh enemies to be overthrowen!

[_Here a snail must appear unto him, and he must look fearfully upon the
snail, saying_:

But what a monster do I see now,[594]
Coming hitherward with an armed brow!
What is it? ah, it is a sow!
No, by God's body, it is but a gristle,
And on the back it hath never a bristle.
It is not a cow--ah, there I fail:
For then it should have a long tail.
What the devil, I was blind! it is but a snail:
I was never so afraid in east nor in south;
My heart at the first sight was at my mouth.
Marry, sir, fy, fy, fy, I do sweat for fear:
I thought I had craked but too timely here.
Hence, thou beast, and pluck in thy horns,
Or I swear by him that crowned was with thorns,
I will make thee drink worse than good ale in the corns.
Hast thou nothing else to do,
But come with horns and face me so?
How, how, my servants, get you shield and spear,
And let us worry and kill this monster here.
[_Here Miles cometh in_.


MILES.

Is not this a worthy knight,
That with a snail dareth not fight,
Except he have his servants' aid?
Is this the champion that maketh all men afraid?
I am a poor soldier come of late from Calais,
I trust, ere I go, to debate some of his malice.
I will tarry my time, till I do see
Betwixt him and the snail what the end will be.


THERSITES.

Why, ye whoreson knaves, regard ye not my calling?
Why do ye not come, and with you weapons bring?
Why shall this monster so escape killing?
No, that he shall not, and God be willing.


MILES.

I promise you this is as worthy a knight,
As ever shall bread out of a bottle bite.
I think he be Dares, of whom Virgil doth write,
That would not let Entellus alone,
But ever provoked and ever called on,
But yet at the last he took a fall,
And so within a while I trow I make thee[595] shall.


THERSITES.

By God's passion, knaves, if I come, I will you fetter:
Regard ye my calling and crying no better?
Why, whoresons, I say, will ye not come?
By the mass, the knaves be all from home:
They had better have fet me an errand at Rome.


MILES.

By my troth, I think that very scant
This lubber dare adventure to fight with an ant.


THERSITES.

Well, seeing my servants come to me will not,
I must take heed that this monster me spill not;
I will jeopard with it a joint,
And other with my club or my sword's point
I will reach it such wounds,
As I would not have for forty thousand pounds.
Pluck in thy horns, thou unhappy beast;
What, facest thou me? wilt not thou be in rest?
Why, will not thou thy horns in hold?
Thinkest thou that I am a cuckold?
God's arms, the monster cometh toward me still,
Except I fight manfully, it will me surely kill!

[_Then he must fight against the snail with his club_.


MILES.

O Jupiter Lord, dost thou not see and hear,
How he feareth the snail, as it were a bear!


THERSITES.

Well, with my club I have had good luck;
Now with my sword have at thee a pluck!

[_And he must cast his club away_.

I will make thee, ere I go, for to duck,
And thou were as tall a man as Friar Tuck.
I say yet again, thy horns in draw,
Or else I will make thee to have wounds raw.
Art thou not afeard
To have thy beard
Pared with my sword?

[_Here he must fight then with his sword against the snail, and the snail
draweth her horns in_.

Ah well, now no more:
Thou mightest have done so before.
I laid at it so sore,
That it thought it should have be lore[596]
And it had not drawn in his horns again,
Surely I would the monster have slain.
But now, farewell, I will work thee no more pain.
Now my fume is past,
And doth no longer last,
That I did to the monster cast.
Now in other countries both far and near
Mo deeds of chivalry I will go inquire.


MILES.

Thou needst not seek any further, for ready I am here:
I will debate anon, I trow, thy bragging cheer.

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