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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.




THERSITES. [_Not hearing him_.
Now where is any mo that will me assail?
I will turn him and toss him, both top and tail;
If he be stronger than Samson was,
Who with his bare hands killed lions apace.


MILES.

What needeth this boast? I am here at hand,
That with thee will fight; keep thy head, and stand!
Surely for all thy high words I will not fear
To assay thee a touch, till some blood appear;
I will give thee somewhat for the gift of a new year.

[_And he beginneth to fight with him, but Thersites must run away, and
hide him behind his mother's back, saying_:


THERSITES.

O mother, mother, I pray thee me hide:
Throw something over me, and cover me every side.


MATER.

O my son, what thing eldeth[597] thee?


THERSITES.

Mother, a thousand horsemen do persecute me.


MATER.

Marry, son, then it was time to fly;
I blame thee not, then, though afraid thou be.
A deadly wound thou mightst there soon catch:
One against so many is no indifferent[598] match.


THERSITES.

No, mother, but if they had been but ten to one,
I would not have avoided, but set them upon;
But seeing they be so many, I ran away.
Hide me, mother, hide me, I heartily thee pray.
For if they come hither, and here me find,
To their horses' tails they will be bind,
And after that fashion hale me, and kill me;
And though I were never so bold and stout,
To fight against so many I should stand in doubt.


MILES.

Thou that dost seek giants to conquer,
Come forth, if thou dare, and in this place appear.
Fie for shame, dost thou so soon take flight!
Come forth, and show somewhat of thy might.


THERSITES.

Hide me, mother, hide me, and never word say--


MILES.

Thou old trot, seest thou any man come this way,
Well-armed and weaponed, and ready to fight?


MATER.

No, forsooth, master, there came none in my sight.


MILES.

He did avoid in time, for without doubts
I would have set on his back some clouts;
If I may take him, I will make all slouches
To beware by him, that they come not in my clutches.

[_Then he goeth out, and the mother saith_:


MATER.

Come forth, my son, your enemy is gone:
Be not afraid, for hurt thou canst have none.

[_Then he looketh about, if he be gone or not; at the last he saith_:


THERSITES.

I-wis, thou didst wisely, whosoever thou be,
To tarry no longer to fight with me;
For with my club I would have broken thy skull,
If thou were as big as Hercules' bull.
Why, thou cowardly knave, no stronger than a duck,
Barest thou try masteries with me a-pluck.
Which fear nother giants nor Jupiter's fire-bolt,
Nor Belzebub the master-devil, as ragged as a colt?
I would thou wouldst come hither once again:
I think thou hadst rather alive to be flayn.
Come again, and I swear by my mother's womb,
I will pull thee in pieces no more than my thumb;
And thy brains abroad I will so scatter,
That all knaves shall fear against me to clatter.

[_Then cometh in Telemachus, bringing a letter from his father Ulysses,
and Thersites saith_:

What, little Telemachus!
What makest thou here among us?


TELEMACHUS.

Sir, my father Ulysses doth him commend
To you most heartily, and here he hath you send
Of his mind a letter,
Which show you better
Everything shall,
Than I can make rehearsal.
[_Here he must deliver him the letter_.


THERSITES.

Lo, friends, ye may see
What great men write to me.
[_Here he must read the letter_.
As entirely as heart can think,
Or scrivener can write with ink,
I send you loving greeting,
Thersites, my own sweeting!
I am very sorry,
When I cast in memory
The great unkindness
And also the blindness,
That hath be in my breast
Against you ever prest:
I have be prompt and diligent
Ever to make you shent,
To appal your good name,
And to 'minish your fame:
In that I was to blame;
But well all this is gone,
And remedy there is none,
But only repentance
Of all my old grievance,
With which I did you molest,
And gave you sorry rest:
The cause was thereof truly
Nothing but very envy;
Wherefore now, gentle esquire,
Forgive me, I you desire,
And help, I you beseech,
Telemachus to a leech,
That him may wisely charm
From the worms that do him harm;
In that ye may do me pleasure,
For he is my chief treasure.
I have heard men say,
That come by the way,
That better charmer is no other,
Than is your own dear mother.
I pray you of her obtain
To charm away his pain.
Fare ye well, and come to my house
To drink wine and eat a piece of souse;
And we will have minstrelsy,
That shall pipe _Hankin boby_.
My wife Penelope
Doth greet you well by me.
Writing at my house on Candlemas-day,
Midsummer month, the Calends of May,
By me, Ulysses, being very glad
That the victory of late of the monster ye had.
Ah, sirrah, quoth he? how say you, friends all,
Ulysses is glad for my favour to call.
Well, though we oft have swerved,
And he small love deserved,
Yet I am well content,
Seeing he doth repent,
To let old matters go,
And to take him no more so,
As I have done hitherto,
For my mortal foe.
Come go with me, Telemachus; I will thee bring
Unto my mother to have her charming.
I doubt not, but by that time that she hath done,
Thou shalt be the better seven years agone.
[_Then Thersites goeth to his mother, saying_:
Mother, Christ thee save and see,
Ulysses hath send his son to thee,
That thou shouldst him charm
From the worms that him harm.


MATER.

Son, ye be wise, keep ye warm!
Why should I for Ulysses do,
That never was kind us to?
He was ready in war
Ever thee, son, to mar;
Then had been all my joy
Exiled clean away.


THERSITES.

Well, mother, all that is past;
Wrath may not always last,
And seeing we be mortal all,
Let not our wrath be immortal.


MATER.

Charm that charm will, he shall not be charmed of me.


THERSITES.

Charm, or, by the mass, with my club I will charm thee.


MATER.

Why, son, art thou so wicked to beat thy mother?


THERSITES.

Yea, that I will, by God's dear brother!
Charm, old witch, in the devil's name,
Or I will send thee to him to be his dame.


MATER.

Alas! what a son have I,
That thus doth order me spitefully!
Cursed be the time that ever I him fed!
I would in my belly he had be dead!


THERSITES.

Cursest thou, old whore? bless me again,
Or I will bless thee, that shall be to thy pain.

[_Then he must take her by the arms, and she crieth out as followeth_:


MATER.

He will kill me,
He will spill me,
He will bruise me,
He will lose me,
He will prick me,
He will stick me.


THERSITES.

The devil stick thee, old withered witch,
For I will stick nother thee nor none such.
But come off, give me thy blessing again:
I say, let me have it, or else certain
With my club I will lay thee on the brain.


MATER.

Well, seeing thou threatenest to me affliction,
Spite of my heart, have now my benediction.
Now Christ's sweet blessing and mine
Light above and beneath the body of thine,
And I beseech with all my devotion,
That thou mayst come to a man's promotion!
He that forgave Mary Magdalen her sin,
Make thee highest of all thy kin!


THERSITES.

In this word is double intelliment[599]:
Wouldst thou have me hanged, mother, verament?


MATER.

No, son, no; but to have you high
In promotion is my mind, verily.


THERSITES.

Well then, mother, let all this go,
And charm this child that you is send to.
And look hereafter to curse ye be not greedy:
Curse me no more, I am cursed enough already.


MATER

Well, son, I will curse you no more,
Except ye provoke me too-too sore;
But I marvel why ye do me move
To do for Ulysses, that doth not us love.


THERSITES.

Mother, by his son he hath send me a letter,
Promising hereafter to be to us better,
And you, and I with my great club,
Must walk to him, and eat a sillabub;
And we shall make merry,
And sing _tyrl on the bery_,
With Simkin Sydn'am Sumn'nor
That killed a cat at Cumnor;
There the trifling taborer, troubler of Tunis,
Will pick Peter Pie-baker a pennyworth of prunes;
Nichol Nevergood a net and a nightcap
Knit will for Kit, whose knee caught a knap;
David Doughty, dighter of dates,
Grin with Godfrey Good-ale will greedy at the gates;
Tom Tumbler of Tewksbury, turning at a trice,
Will wipe William Waterman, if he be not wise:
Simon Sadler of Sudeley, that served the sow,
Hit will Henry Heartless, he heard not yet how.
Jenkin Jacon, that jobbed jolly Joan,
Griud will gromaly-seed[600], until he groan.
Proud Pierce Pick-thank, that picked Parnel's purse,
Cut will the cakes, though Kate do cry and curse.
Rough Robin Rover, ruffling in right rate,
Bald Bernard Brainless will beat, and Bennet bate;
Foolish Frederick Furberer of a fart
Ding Daniel Dainty to death will with a dart.
Marculph Merrylees, mourning for mad Mary,
Tink will the tables, though he there not tarry.
Andrew All-Knave, alderman of Antwerp,
Hop will with hollyhocks and harken Humphrey's harp.
It is too-too, mother, the pastime and good cheer
That we shall see and have, when that we come there;
Wherefore, gentle mother, I thee heartily pray,
That thou wilt charm for worms this pretty boy.


MATER.

Well, son, seeing the case and matter standeth so,
I am content all thy request to do.
Come hither, pretty child,
I will thee charm from the worms wild;
But first do thou me thy name tell.


TELEMACHUS.

I am called Telemachus, there as I dwell.


MATER.

Telemachus, lie down upright on the ground,
And stir not once for a thousand pound.


TELEMACHUS.

I am ready here prest
To do all your request.

[_Then he must lay him down with his belly upward, and she must bless him
from above to beneath, saying as followeth_:


MATER.

The cowherd of Comerton[601] with his crooked spade
Cause from thee the worms soon to vade!
And jolly Jack Tumbler, that juggleth with a horn,
Grant that thy worms soon be all-to torn!
Good grandsire Abraham, godmother to Eve,
Grant that this[602] worms no longer this child grieve!
All the court of conscience in Cuckoldshire:
Tinkers and taborers, tipplers, taverners:
Tittifills, triflers, turners and trumpers:
Tempters, traitors, travellers and thumpers:
Thriftless, thievish, thick and thereto thin:
The malady of this worms cause for to blin!
The virtue of the tail of Isaac's cow,
That before Adam in paradise did low!
Also the joist of Moses' rod,
In the Mount of Calvary that spake with God:
_Facies ad faciem_, turning tail to tail,
Cause all these worms quickly to fail!
The bottom of the ship of Noe,
And also the leg of the horse of Troy:
The piece of the tongue of Balaam's ass,
The chawbone[603] of the ox that at Christ's birth was,
The eye-tooth of the dog that went on pilgrimage
With young Tobias, these worms soon may suage!
The butterfly of Bromwicham that was born blind,
The blast of the bottle that blowed Aeolus' wind,
The buttock of the bitter[604] bought at Buckingham,
The body of the bear that with Bevis came,
The backster[605] of Bal[d]ockbury with her baking peel,[606]
Child, fro thy worms, I pray, may soon thee heal
The tapper of Tavistock and the tapster's pot!
The tooth of the titmouse, the turd of the goat,
In the Tower of Tennis-balls toasted by the fire,
The table of Tantalus turned trim in the mire,
The tomb of Tom Threadbare that thrust Tib through the smoke,
Make all thy worms, child, to come forth at thy dock!
Shem, Cam,[607] and Japhet, and Coll the miller's mare,
The five stones of David that made Goliath stare,
The wing with which St Michael did fly to his mount,
The counters wherewith Cherubim did cherry-stones count,
The hawk with which Asuerus[608] killed the wild boar,
Help that these worms, my child, hurt thee no more!
The maw of the moor-cock that made Maud to mow,
When Martlemas at Morton mourned for the snow:
The spear of Spanish spilbery sprent with spiteful spots,
The lights of the laverock laid at London lots,
The shinbone of St Samuel shining so as the sun,
Grant, child, of the worms that soon thy pains be done!
Mother Brice of Oxford and great Gib of Hinksey,
Also Maud of Thrutton[609] and Mabel of Chertsey,
And all other witches that walk in Dimmings Dale,[610]
Clittering and clattering there your pots with ale,
Incline your ears, and hear this my petition,
And grant this child of health to have fruition!
The blessing that Jordan to his godson gave,
Light on my child, and from the worms him save!
Now stand up, little Telemachus, anon:
I warrant thee by to-morrow thy worms will be gone.


TELEMACHUS.

I thank you, mother, in my most hearty[611] wise;
Will ye, sir, to my father command me any service?


THERSITES.

No, pretty boy, but do thou us two commend
To thy father and mother; tell them that we intend,
Both my mother and I,
To see them shortly.


TELEMACHUS.

Ye shall be heartily welcome to them, I dare well say;
Fare ye well, by your leave: now I will depart away.


THERSITES.

Son, give me thy hand. Farewell.


MATER.

I pray God keep thee from peril.
[_Telemachus goeth out, and the mother sayeth_:
I-wis it is a proper child,
And in behaviour nothing wild;
Ye may see what is good education:
I would every man after this fashion
Had their children up brought.
Then many of them would not have been so nought:
A child is better unborn than untaught.


THERSITES.

Ye say truth, mother; well, let all this go,
And make you ready Ulysses to go to
With me anon; be ye so content?


MATER.

I am well pleased; to your will I assent,
For, although that I love him but very evil,
It is good to set a candle before the devil.
Of most part of great men, I swear by this fire,
Light is the thank, but heavy is the ire.
Farewell, son, I will go me to prepare.


THERSITES.

Mother, God be with you and keep you from care.

[_The mother goeth out, and Thersites saiyeth forth_:

Whatsomever I say, sirs, I think ill might she fare;
I care not if the old witch were dead:
It were an almsdeed to knock her in the head,
And say on the worms that she did die;
For there be many that my lands would buy.
By God's blessed brother,
If I were not sick of the mother!
This toothless trot keepeth me hard,
And suffereth no money in my ward;
But, by the blessed Trinity,
If she will no sooner dead be,
I will with a cushion stop her breath,
Till she have forgot Newmarket heath.
Ill might I fare,
If that I care
Her to spare:
About the house she hoppeth,
And her nose oft droppeth,
When the worts she choppeth:
When that she doth brew,
I may say to you,
I am ready to spew,
The drops to see down renne,
By all Christian men,
From her nose to her knen[612]
Fie, God's body, it maketh me to spit,
To remember how that she doth sit,
By the fire brawling,
Scratching and scrawling,
And in every place
Laying oysters apace.
She doth but lack shells:
The devil have they whit else.
At night, when to bed she goes,
And plucketh off her hose,
She knappeth me in the nose
With rip, rap,
Flip, flap,
That an ill-hap
Come to that tap,
That venteth so,
Wheresoever she go!
So much she daily drinketh,
That her breath at both ends stinketh;
That an horse-comb and an halter
Her soon up talter!
Till I say David's psalter
That shall be at Nevermass,
Which never shall be, nor never was.
By this ten bones,
She served me once
A touch for the nonce.
I was sick and lay in my bed;
She brought me a kerchief to wrap on my head,
And I pray God that I be dead,
If that I lie any whit,
When she was about the kerchief to knit,
Break did one of the forms' feet,
That she did stand on,
And down fell she anon,
And forth withal,
As she did fall,
She girdeth out a fart,
That me made to start:
I think her buttocks did smart:
Except it had be a mare in a cart,
I have not heard such a blast.
I cried and bid her hold fast:
With that she, nothing aghast,
Said to me, that no woman in this land
Could hold fast that which was not in her hand.
Now, sirs, in that whole pitch and fire-brand
Of that bag so fusty,
So stale and so musty,
So cankered and so rusty,
So stinking and so dusty,
God send her as much joy,
As my nose hath alway
Of her unsavory spice.
If that I be not wise,
And stop my nose quickly,
When she letteth go merrily.
But let all this go. I had almost forgot
The knave that here erewhile did jet,
Before that Telemachus did come in.
I will go seech him; I will not blin,
Until that I have him:
Then, so God save him,
I will so beknave him,
That I will make to rave him;
With this sword I will shave him,
And stripes when I have gave him,
Better I will deprave him,
That you shall know for a slave him.

[_Then Miles cometh in saying_:


MILES.

Wilt thou so indeed?
Hie thee, make good speed!
I am at hand here prest,
Put away tongue-shaking
And this foolish craking.
Let us try for the best:
Cowards make speech apace;
Stripes prove the man:
Have now at thy face!
Keep off, if thou can.

[_And then he must strike at him, and Thersites must run away, and leave
his club and sword behind_.

Why, thou lubber, runnest thou away,
And leavest thy sword and club thee behind?
Now this is a sure card: now I may well say,
That a coward craking here I did find.
Masters, ye may see by this play in sight,
That great barking dogs do not most bite.
And oft it is seen that the best men in the host
Be not such that use to brag most.
If ye will avoid the danger of confusion,
Print my words in heart, and mark this conclusion:
Such gifts of God, that ye excel in most,
Use them with soberness, and yourself never boast;
Seek the laud of God in all that ye do:
So shall virtue and honour come you to.
But if you give your minds to the sin of pride,
Vanish shall your virtue, your honour away will slide.
For pride is hated of God above,
And meekness soonest obtaineth his love.
To your rulers and parents be you obedient,
Never transgressing their lawful commandment.
Be ye merry and joyful at board and at bed:
Imagine no traitory against your prince and head.
Love God, and fear him, and after him your king,
Which is as victorious as any is living.
Pray for his grace, with hearts that doth not feign,
That long he may rule us without grief or pain.
Beseech ye also that God may save his queen.
Lovely Lady Jane, and the prince that he hath sent them between,[613]
To augment their joy and the Commons' felicity!
Fare ye well, sweet audience, God grant you all prosperity.

AMEN.






FOOTNOTES:


1. A Select Collection of Old Plays. A new edition, with Additional Notes
and Corrections, by the late Isaac Reed, Octavius Gilchrist, and the
Editor (J.P. Collier. London, 1825-27-28. 13 vols. post 8vo, including a
Supplement).

2. Not only has the editor brought together, and arranged in their proper
sequence, certain dramas of great curiosity hitherto not reprinted at
all, but he has incorporated with the old series of Dodsley all the
pieces in the collections of Dilke, Hawkins, &c., which still remained
uncollected. Of course, of those writers of whom we possess valuable
texts by Gifford, Dyce, and other scholars, no specimens were necessary.
To the library editions of Jonson, Shirley, Greene, Peele, &c., these new
volumes, from which they have been intentionally excluded, ought to be
acceptable companions.

3. Origin of the English Drama. 1773. 8vo, 3 vols.

4. Old English Plays, being a selection from the early dramatic writers.
1816. 8vo, 6 vols.

5. For many of the notes contributed by Dodsley and his followers, the
present editor should not be held answerable; nor would he have retained
them, had he not apprehended a complaint that the work was by their
omission impaired in value. In certain cases, nevertheless, where a
remark or explanation was absolutely erroneous, it seemed to be an
imperative duty to suppress it, and if necessary to substitute another
for it. A large proportion of the extracts at the foot of the pages have
been collated, by which process a variety of mistakes has been removed.

6. The tone of this inscription almost renders it allowable to infer that
Sir Clement Dormer had communicated to Dodsley some of the plays which
appear in his collection as originally published. Sir Clement Cotterel,
who was probably related to Sir Clement Cotterel Dormer, was master of
the ceremonies during the early Georgian era, and curious old books with
his book-plate occasionally occur.

7. "Interlude of the Four Elements: An Early Moral Play." Edited by James
Orchard Halliwell, F.R.S. London: Percy Society, 1848.

8. But see Mr Collier's reason for assigning it to 1517. "History of
English Dramatic Poetry," ii. 321.

9. See Hazlitt's "Handbook," p. 463.

10. That is, a fool. "Good faith, I am no wiser than a daw."--"I Henry
VI." ii. 4; Malone's Shakespeare, xviii. 61.--_Halliwell_.

11. Everlasting. It occurs twice in Shakespeare: see "Macbeth," iii. 2,
_apud_ Malone, xi. l54.--_Halliwell_.

12. That is, animal. This word is not always used by early writers in a
bad sense. "By bestial oblivion" Hamlet refers to the want of
intellectual reflection in animals, there applied to human beings. Still
more clearly in "Othello"--"I have lost the immortal part, sir, of
myself, and what remains is bestial." Even "bestial appetite," in change
of lust, in "Richard III.," may be similarly interpreted.--_Halliwell_.

13. Establish or fix firmly in thy mind.

"Why doth not every earthly thing
Cry shame upon her? Could she here deny
The story that is printed in her blood!"

--_Halliwell. --Much Ado about Nothing_, iv. 1.

14. Wondrously; and so "wonders" for "wondrous," elsewhere in this
interlude. In "Adam Bel," 1536, we have "wonderly"--

"These gates be shut so wonderly well."

15. Similar to the phrase, "Let the world slide," in the "Taming of the
Shrew."--_Halliwell_. But the latter saying occurs in the "Towneley
Mysteries," p. 101.

16. Compare "A.C. Mery Talys," No. 7. If the edition of that work, dated
1526, was the first, of which we have no proof, we might almost be
tempted to infer that this interlude was not printed till after that
time, since it is more likely that a passage in a play would be borrowed
from a prose jest-book than the reverse.

17. Old copy, _they venteres_.

18. See "Merie Tales of Skelton," No. 4. Old English Jest-Books, 1864,
vol. ii.

19. Perhaps this may be one of the earliest passages, in which this
afterwards rather favourite phrase occurs. The meaning is clear.

20. The work of Copernicus appeared in 1543, but the author's silence on
the new theories of that astronomer can scarcely be considered an
argument one way or the other in the question that has been raised
respecting the date of the interlude. Even Recorde, in 1556, who appears
to have been one of the earliest Copernicans in this country, dared only
to allude to it, and thus prefaces his observations on the subject:--"But
as for the quietnes of the earth, I neede not to spende anye tyme in
prooving of it, syth that opinion is so firmelye fixed in moste mennes
headdes, that they accompt it mere madnes to bring the question in doubt;
and therefore it is as muche follye to travaile to prove that which no
man denieth, as it were with great study to diswade that thinge which no
man doth covette, nother anye manne alloweth; or to blame that which no
manne praiseth, nother anye manne lyketh."--_Castle of Knowledge_, 1556.
There is no scientific advance in the play on what we find in the very
curious poem of the time of Edward I., printed in Wright's Popular
Treatises on Science, 8vo. 1841.--_Halliwell_.

21. That is, with great exactness, complete in every respect. "You are
rather 'point-device' in your accoutrements," _As you Like it_, iii. 2.

"The wenche she was full proper and nyce,
Amonge all other she bare great price,
For sche coude tricke it _point-device_,
But fewe like her in that countree."
_The Miller of Abingdon_, n.d.

--_Halliwell_. But see Hazlitt's _Popular Poetry_, iii. 117.

22. This passage is not so licentious as might be supposed, for night
linen had not then become in general use.

"A dolefulle syght the knyghte gane see
Of his wyfe and his childir three,
That fro the fyre were flede;
Alle als nakede als thay were borne
Stode togedir undir a thorne,
Braydede owte of thaire bedd."
_Romance of Sir Isumbras_, 102.

--_Halliwell_. The illustration itself is not very apt, but still more
remarkable examples are in Hazlitt's _Popular Poetry_, ii. 48, iii. 51,
&c.

23. Bed.

24. Here follows some blank music in the original. The song on the next
page is set to music.--_Halliwell_.

25. A very old MS. note here says, "Sensuall Appetite must syng thys
song, and hys cumpany must answere hym lykewyse."

26. A common proverbial expression, occurring in Shakespeare, and other
writers.

"O, the body of a gorge,
I wold I had them heare;
In faith, I wold chope them.
They ware not so hack this seven yeer!"
_Mariage of Witt and Wisdome_, p. 33.
--_Halliwell_.

27. The songs here quoted are very curious. Mr Gutch does not seem to
have been able to obtain a copy of the one relating to Robin Hood.--
_Halliwell_. See Hazlitt's "Handbook," p. 513.

28. This is a very early example of a string of nonsensical
incongruities, possessing, however, no further value, except perhaps as
affording an insight into what was regarded at that time as _comic
effects_.

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