Chapter 4

IGNORANCE. With arguing here their foolish [saws] That is not worth three straws. I love not this whoreson 'losophers, Nor this great cunning extromers, That tell how far it is to the stars; I hate all manner cunning! I would ye knew it, I am Ignorance! A lord I am of greater puissance Than the king of England or France, Yea, the greatest lord living! I have servants at my retinue, That long to me, I assure you, Herewith in England, That with me, Ignorance, dwell still, And term of life continue will, Above five hundred thousand. SEN. Gog's nails, I have paid some of them, I trow. IGN. Why, man, what aileth thee so to blow? SEN. For I was at a shrewd fray. IGN. Hast thou any of them slain, then? SEN. Yea, I have slain them every man, Save them that ran away. IGN. Why, is any of them scaped and gone? SEN. Yea, by Gog's body, every one, All that ever were there. IGN. Why, then, they be not all slain. SEN. No, but I have put some to pain, For one whoreson there was, that turned again, And straight I cut off his ear. IGN. Then thou hast made him a cutpurse. SEN. Yea, but yet I served another worse! I smote off his leg by the hard arse, As soon as I met him there. IGN. By my troth, that was a mad deed! Thou shouldst have smit off his head, Then he should never have troubled thee more. SEN. Tush! then I had been but mad, For there was another man that had Smit off his head before! IGN. Then thou hast quit thee like a tall knight! SEN. Yea, that I have, by this light! But, I say, can you tell me right Where became my master? IGN. What, he that you call Humanity? SEN. Yea. IGN. I wot never, except he be Hid here in some corner. SEN. Gog's body! and true ye say, For yonder, lo! behold, ye may See where the mad fool doth lie. IGN. Now, on my faith and truth, It were even great alms To smite his head from his body! SEN. Nay, God forbid ye should do so, For he is but an innocent, lo! In manner of a fool. For as soon as I speak to him again, I shall turn his mind clean, And make him follow my school. IGN. Then bid him rise, let us hear him speak. SEN. Now, rise up, Master Huddypeke, Your tail toteth out behind! Fear not, man, stand up by and by; I warrant you rise up boldly! Here is none but is your friend. HU. I cry you mercy, master dear! IGN. Why, what is cause thou hidest thee here? HU. For I was almost for fear, Even clean out of my mind. SEN. Nay, it is the study that ye have had In this foolish losophy hath made you mad, And no other thing, i-wis. IGN. That is as true as the gospel! Therefore I have great marvel, That ever thou wilt follow the counsel Of yonder two knaves. HU. O sir, ye know right well this, That when any man is In other men's company, He must needs follow the appetite Of such things as they delight Some time among, perdy! IGN. But such knaves would alway have thee To put all thy mind and felicity In this foolish cunning to study; Which, if thou do, will make thee mad, And alway to be pensive and sad; Thou shalt never be merry. SEN. Merry, quotha? no, I make God avow! But I pray thee, master, hark! one word now, And answer this thing: Whether thought you it better cheer At the tavern, where we were ere, Or else to clatter with these knaves here Of their foolish cunning? HU. Nay, I cannot say the contrary But that I had mich merrier company At the tavern than in this place. SEN. Then if ye have any wit or brain, Let us go to the tavern again, And make some merry solace. IGN. If he will do so, then doth he wisely. HU. By my troth, I care not greatly, For I am indifferent to all company, Whether it be here or there. SEN. Then I shall tell you what we will do; Master Ignorance, you and he also Shall tarry both still here, And I will go fet hither a company, That ye shall hear them sing as sweetly As they were angels clear; And yet I shall bring hither another sort Of lusty bloods to make disport; That shall both dance and spring, And turn clean above the ground With friskas and with gambawds round, That all the hall shall ring. And that done, within an hour or twain, I shall at the town again Prepare for you a banket Of meats that be most delicate, And most pleasant drinks and wines thereat, That is possible to get, Which shall be in a chamber fair, Prepared point-device[21] With damask water made so well, That all the house thereof shall smell, As it were paradise. And after that, if ye will touch A fair wench naked[22] in a couch[23] Of a soft bed of down, For to satisfy your wanton lust, I shall appoint you a trull of trust, Not a fairer in this town! And when ye have taken your delight, And thus satisfied the appetite Of your wits five, Ye may say then I am a servant For you so necessary and pleasant, I trow none such alive! HU. Now, by the way that God did walk, It comforteth mine heart to hear thee talk, Thy match was never seen! IGN. Then go thy way by and by, And bring in this company, And he and I will here tarry, Till thou come again. HU. And I pray thee heartily also. SEN. At your request so shall I do. Lo! I am gone, now farewell! I shall bring them into this hall, And come myself foremost of all, And of these revels be chief marshal, And order all things well. IGN. Now, set thy heart on a merry pin, Against these lusty bloods come in, And drive fantasies away. HU. And so I will, by heaven's King! If they either dance or sing, Have among them, by this day! IGN. Then thou takest good and wise ways, And so shalt thou best please All this whole company; For the foolish arguing that thou hast had With that knave Experience, that hath made All these folk thereof weary; For all that they be now in this hall, They be the most part my servants all, And love principally Disports, as dancing, singing, Toys, trifles, laughing, jesting; For cunning they set not by. HU. I see well such company evermore, As Sensual Appetite is gone for, Will please well this audience. IGN. Yea, that I suppose they will; But peace, hark! I pray thee be still, I ween they be not far hence.

[_Then the dancers without the hall sing this wise, and they within answer, or else they may say it for need_.[24]]

THE DANCERS AND SENSUAL.

Peace, sirs, peace now! peace, sirs, all!

HUMANITY AND IGNORANCE.

Why, who is that so high doth call?

THE DANCERS.

Silence, I say, be you among, For we be disposed to sing a song.

HUMANITY AND IGNORANCE.

Come in, then, boldly among this presence, For here ye shall have good audience. Time to pass with goodly sport, Our sprites to revive and comfort, To pipe, to sing, To dance, to spring, With pleasure and delight, Following Sensual Appetite, To pipe, &c.

IGN. I can you thank; that is done well; It is pity ye had not a minstrel For to augment your solace. SEN. As for minstrel, it maketh no force, Ye shall see me dance a course Without a minstrel, be it better or worse; Follow all: I will lead a trace. HU. Now have among you, by this light! IGN. That is well said, by God Almight! Make room, sirs, and give them place.

[_Then he singeth this song and danceth withal, and evermore maketh countenance according to the matter; and all the others answer likewise_.]

Dance we, dance we, prance we, prance we, So merrily let us dance ey, so merrily, &c. And I can dance it gingerly, and I, &c. And I can foot it by and by, and I, &c. And I can prank it properly, And I can countenance comely,[25] And I can croak it courtesly, And I can leap it lustily, And I can turn it trimly, And I can frisk it freshly, And I can look it lordly. IGN. I can thee thank, Sensual Appetite! That is the best dance without a pipe, That I saw this seven year.[26] HU. This dance would do mich better yet, If we had a kit or taberet, But alas! there is none here. SEN. Then let us go to the tavern again, There shall we be sure of one or twain Of minstrels, that can well play. IGN. Then go, I pray ye, by and by, And purvey some minstrel ready, And he and I will follow shortly, As fast as ever we may. HU. Therewith I am right well content. SEN. Then will I go incontinent, And prepare every thing That is metely to be done; And for lack of minstrels, the mean season, Now will we begin to sing. Now we will here begin to sing, For dance can we no more, For minstrels here be all lacking; To the tavern we will therefore.

[_Et exeunt cantando, &c_.

HU. Now if that Sensual Appetite can find Any good minstrels after his mind, Doubt not we shall have good sport. IGN. And so shall we have for a surety; But what shall we do now, tell me, The meanwhile for our comfort? HU. Then let us some lusty ballad sing. IGN. Nay, sir, by the Heaven King! For methinketh it serveth for nothing, All such peevish prick-eared song! HU. Peace, man, prick-song may not be despised, For therewith God is well pleased, Honoured, praised, and served, In the church ofttimes among. IGN. Is God well pleased, trow'st thou, thereby? Nay, nay, for there is no reason why, For is it not as good to say plainly, Give me a spade, As give me a spa, ve, va, ve, va, ve, vade? But if thou wilt have a song that is good, I have one of Robin Hood, The best that ever was made. HU. Then, a' fellowship, let us hear it. IGN. But there is a burden, thou must bear it, Or else it will not be. HU. Then begin and care not to ... Down, down, down, &c. IGN. Robin Hood in Barnsdale stood,[27] And leant him till a maple thistle; Then came our lady and sweet Saint Andrew. Sleepest thou, wakest thou, Geffrey Coke? A hundred winter the water was deep, I can not tell you how broad. He took a goose neck in his hand, And over the water he went. He start up to a thistle top, And cut him down a hollen club. He stroke the wren between the horns, That fire sprang out of the pig's tail. Jack boy, is thy bow i-broke? Or hath any man done the wriguldy wrag? He plucked muscles out of a willow, And put them into his satchel! Wilkin was an archer good, And well could handle a spade; He took his bent bow in his hand, And set him down by the fire. He took with him sixty bows and ten, A piece of beef, another of bacon. Of all the birds in merry England So merrily pipes the merry bottle![28]

NATURE.

Well, Humanity, now I see plainly That thou hast used much folly, The while I have been absent.

HU. Sir, I trust I have done nothing That should be contrary to your pleasing, Nor never was mine intent; For I have followed the counsel clear, As ye me bade, of Studious Desire, And for necessity among Sometime Sensual Appetite's counsel, For without him, ye know right well, My life cannot endure long.

NATURE.

Though it be for thee full necessary For thy comfort sometime to satisfy Thy sensual appetite, Yet it is not convenient for thee To put therein thy felicity And all thy whole delight; For if thou wilt learn no science, Nother by study nor experience, I shall thee never advance; But in the world thou shalt dure then, Despised of every wise man, Like this-rude beast Ignorance.

[_The original here ends imperfectly_.]

THE TRAGI-COMEDY OF CALISTO AND MELIBAEA.

_A new comedy in English in manner of an interlude right elegant and full of craft of rhetoric: wherein is shewed and described as well the beauty and good properties of women, as their vices and evil conditions, with a moral conclusion and exhortation to virtue. [Col.] Johes rastell me imprimi fecit. Cum privilegio regali. Folio, black letter_.

The only copy known of this piece is among the books of Malone in the Bodleian Library, and it has never hitherto been reprinted. An account of it is given, however, by Collier (_History of English Dramatic Poetry_, ii. 408-12).

AN INTERLUDE, SHOWING THE BEAUTY AND GOOD PROPERTIES OF WOMEN.

MELIBAEA.

Franciscus Petrarcus, the poet laureate, Saith that Nature, which is mother of all things, Without strife can give life to nothing create; And Heraclitus, the wise clerk, in his writing, Saith in all things create strife is their working; And there is nothing under the firmament With any other in all points equivalent. And, according to their diets rehearsed as thus, All things are create in manner of strife. These foolish lovers, then, that be so amorous, From pleasure to displeasure how lead they their life: Now sorry, now sad: now joyous, now pensive: Alas! I, poor maiden, then what shall I do, Cumbered by dotage of one Calisto? I know that Nature hath given me beauty, With sanguineous complexion, favour, and fairness: The more to God ought I to do fea'ty With will, life, land, and love of perfectness. I deny not but Calisto is of great worthiness, But what of that? for all his high estate, His desire I defy, and utterly shall hate. Oh, his sayings and suits so importune, That of my life he maketh me almost weary! Oh, his lamentations and exclamations on fortune, With similitude [of] manner as one that should die! But who shall pity this? In faith, not I. Shall I accomplish his carnal desire? Nay, yet at a stake rather bren in a fire. Of truth, I am sorry for his trouble; To strive with himself thus for love of me; But though his sorrows, I assure you, should double, Out of his danger[29] will I be at liberty.

[_Enter_ CALISTO _unseen_.]

CAL. What amiss, woman, now Christ benedicite? [_Aside_. MEL. Nay, nay, he shall never that day see; His voluptuous appetite consented by me. Wist he now that I were present here, I assure you shortly he would seek me; And without doubt he doth now inquire, Whither I am gone, or where I should be. See, is he not now come? I repent[30] me Alas, of this man I can never be rid: Would to Christ I wist, where I might be hid. CAL. By you, fair Melibaea, may be seen The grace, the gifts, the greatness of God. MEL. Wherein? CAL. In taking effect of Dame Nature's strene;[31] Nor yearthly, but angelic of likelihood; In beauty so passing the kind of woman-hood. O God, I might in your presence be able To manifest my dolours incomparable; Greater were that reward than the grace Heaven to obtain by works of pity! Not so glorious be the saints that see God's face, Ne joy not so much, as I do you to see. Yet difference there is between them and me, For they glorify by His assured presence, And I in torment because of your absence. MEL. Why, thinkest thou that so great a reward? CAL. Yea, more greater than if God would set me In heaven above all saints, and more in regard; And think it a more higher felicity. MEL. Yet more greater thy reward shall be, If thou flee from the determination Of thy consent of mind by such temptation. I perceive the extent of thy words all, As of the wit of him, that would have the virtue Of me such a woman to become thrall. Go thy way with sorrow! I would thou knew I have, foul scorn of thee, I tell thee true, Or [of] any human creature with me should begin Any communication pertaining to sin. And I promise thee, where--thou art present, While I live, by my will I will be absent. [_Exit_. CAL. Lo! out of all joy I am fallen in woe, Upon whom adverse fortune hath cast her chance Of cruel hate, which causeth now away to go The keeper of my joy and all my pleasance. Alas, alas, now to me what noyance!

_Enter_ SEMPRONIO, _a parasite_.

SEM. _Dieu garde_, my lord, and God be in this place! CAL. Sempronio? SEM. Yea, sir. CAL. Ah, sir, I shrew thy face! Why hast thou been from me so long absent? SEM. For I have been about your business, To order such things as were convenient, Your house and horse, and all things, was to dress. CAL. O Sempronio, have pity on my distress; For of all creatures I am the woefullest. SEM. How so? what is the cause of your unrest? CAL. For I serve in love to the goodliest thing That is or ever was. SEM. What is she? CAL. It is one which is all other exceeding: The picture of angels, if thou her see: Phoebus or Phoebe no comparison may be To her. SEM. What hight she? CAL. Melibaea is her name. SEM. Marry, sir, this would make a wild horse tame! CAL. I pray thee, Sempronio, go fet me my lute, And bring some chair or stool with thee; The arguments of love that I may dispute, Which science, I find, thou[32] art without pity. Hie thee, Sempronio, hie thee, I pray thee. SEM. Sir, shortly, I assure you, it shall be done. [_Exit Sem_. CAL. Then farewell! Christ send thee again soon! Oh, what fortune is equal unto mine! Oh, what woeful wight with me may compare! The thirst of sorrow is my mixed wine, Which daily I drink with deep draughts of care.

_Re-enter_ SEMPRONIO.