Part 47

[1221] Fleay, _Hist. Stage_, pp. 399, 400; _Life of Shakesp._, p. 255 _et seq._ He guesses also _True Chron. Hist. of Leir, Valentine and Orson_, and _Robin Hood_ (_Hist. Stage_, 89, 400).

[1222] Phillips's _Theatrum Poetarum_.

[1223] Grosart in _Englische Stud._ XXII. (1896).

[1224] See under 'Young Juvenall' below.

[1225] Line 48.

[1226] Page 401, above.

[1227] _Kind Harts Dreame_, 1592.

[1228] _Have with You_, etc., 1596.

[1229] Making "the apparriter eate his citation," _Strange Newes_, etc., 1592.

[1230] Dumps, affects, quaint, fair (for _beauty_), vail, bonnet (but the last two come from the prose romance).

[1231] "Why, who art thou?" "Why, I am George," etc.

[1232] "Painting my outward passions," ll. 311-312.

[1233] Bonfield to Bettris, ll. 215-226.

[1234] As described in my _Appendix_ to _Friar Bacon_.

[1235] On _Delaie_, ll. 503-509; on _Damocles_, ll. 853-857.

[1236] In Vol. I. of _Greene's Works_, and in the _Temple Dramatists_.

[1237] _Hist. E. D. L._ Vol. I.

[1238] Lines 1980-1983 of _Selimus_ are reproduced in _Mucedorus_ (H. Dods. VII. 214).

[1239] Cf. _Civ. W._, H. Dods. VII. 137, 147, 187, 192-193.

[1240] Cf. Dyce, Malone, Fleay.

[1241] Grosart, _Greene_, I. pp. lvii-lxv, who quotes Simpson, _Greene on Nashe_, Academy, 11th April, 1874, and Symonds, _Predecessors of Shakespeare_, p. 574. Of this opinion are also Farmer, Staunton, and Ward.

[1242] In _Kind Harts Dreame_, 1592.

[1243] _Strange Newes_, Sig. L. 4.

[1244] _Ibid._, Sig. c. 2, 3.

[1245] See _Saffron Walden_ (1596), Sig. v. 2.

[1246] "Blame not schollers [the Harveys'] vexed with sharpe lines if they reprove thy too much libertie of reproofe." Grosart, xii. 143, _Groatsw._

[1247] _Strange Newes_, Sig. H. and E. 4.

[1248] "Ocnus, that makes ropes in hell"--who in truth survived them all.

[1249] Privately acted between July 27 and August 21, _1592_, at Croydon. Fleay, _H. S._ p. 78.

[1250] "What publishing of frivolous and scurrilous prognostications, as if Will Summers were again revived," etc. "And yet _they_ shame not to subscribe 'By a graduate in Cambridge' '_In Artibus Magister_.' ... _They_ are the Pharisees of our time," etc. Note the plural. But though Nashe had revived Will Somers in the _L. W. and T._, though he was entitled to subscribe himself "Graduate in C.," as Greene had done, and though Greene is the _A. M._ and intended "Pharisee," etc., the "scurrilous prognostications" and the other earmarks are hard to find in _L. W. and T._, as we have it. The "lute-string" passage (Dods. IX. 22) recalls Thrasybulus' remarks in _Lk.-Gl._ Sc. v.; but that scene is probably by Lodge, and Nashe himself parallels the passage more closely in _Christ's Tears_ (1593).

[1251] _Life of Shakesp._, p. 109.

[1252] _Greene_, I. lxii.

[1253] Cf. _Kn._ (H. Dods. 514) with _F. B._, Sc. i. 155, "the vicarious wooing."

[1254] Cf. _Kn._, Episode of Philarchus, with _Lk.-Gl._, that of Radagon.

[1255] Cf. the sequel of the vicarious wooing in _Kn._ with that in _F. B._; Smith and Cobbler, _Kn._ (p. 566), "God of our occupation ... cuckold," with same conversation, _Lk.-Gl._, Sc. ii. 254-255; Thankless son, _Kn._ (p. 523), "Thou hast been fostered," etc., with _Lk.-Gl._, Sc. viii. 1247; _Kn._ (p. 523), "disdain ... want," with _Lk.-Gl._ 1273; _Kn._ (p. 526), "Mother's curse ... hated," etc., with _Lk.-Gl._ l. 1275. Resemblances to Lodge's lines are: Usurer, _Kn._ (pp. 548-549), and _Lk.-Gl._, Scs. iii. v.; _Kn._, "My house ... goods," and _Lk.-Gl._ iii. 419, "My cow," etc.

[1256] Cf. _Kn._ (H. Dods. VI. 514), Ethenwald's "to show your passions ... fairer than the dolphin's eye," etc., to the end, and (H. Dods. VI. 562) Ethenwald's "purpled main ... wanton love," etc., and (p. 570) Alfrida's "Beset with orient pearl," etc., with _F. B._, Sc. viii. ll. 26, 50-73.

[1257] On this basis, I see something to be said in favour of Mr. Fleay's conjecture of Wilson, but not of _Peele_ and Wilson.

[1258] Fleay, _Life of Shakesp._, and in Ward's _O. E. D._, p. cxliv.

[1259] Born 1214; student at Oxford and Paris; Franciscan at Oxford; because of his mathematical and philosophical lore suspected of necromancy and forbidden to lecture; imprisoned 1278-1292; died 1294. See Ward, _O. E. D._, xxi-xxiv.

[1260] _O. E. D._, pp. 207-210; O. Ritter, _De Rob. Greens Fabula 'F. B. and B.'_ The summoning of shades occurs in the _Odyssey_ and 1 Sam. 28. 7. Magical images were made by Vergil, the Enchanter; the Brazen H. speaks in Valent. and Orson. The wall of brass is found in Gir. Cambrensis, and Spenser. The Speculum is assigned to Cæsar, and the Enchanter, Vergil. See also Chaucer and Spenser.

_SCROLL ORNAMENTATION_

THE

HONORABLE HISTORIE

of frier Bacon, and frier Bongay.

As it was plaid by her Maiesties seruants.

Made by _Robert Greene_ Maister of Arts.

_SCROLL ORNAMENTATION_

_VIGNETTE_

_SCROLL ORNAMENTATION_

LONDON,

Printed for Edward White, and are to be sold at his shop, at the little North dore of Poules, at the signe of the Gun. 1594.

The Persons of the Play[1261]

_King_ HENRY _the Third_. EDWARD, _Prince of Wales, his Sonne_. EMPEROUR OF GERMANIE. KING OF CASTILE. NED LACIE, _Earle of Lincoln_. JOHN WARREN, _Earle of Sussex_. WILL ERMSBIE, _a Gentleman_. RAPHE SIMNELL, _the Kings Foole_. _Frier_ BACON. MILES, _Frier Bacons poore Scholer_. _Frier_ BUNGAY. JAQUES VANDERMAST, _a Germaine_. BURDEN, _Doctor of Oxford and Maister of Brazennose_. MASON } _Doctors of Oxford_. CLEMENT } LAMBERT } _Gentlemen_. SERLSBY } _Two Schollers, Their Sonnes._ The KEEPER of _Fresingfield_. _Thomas_ } _Farmers Sonnes_. _Richard_} _Constable, Post, Lords, Countrie Clownes, etc._

ELINOR, _Daughter to Castile_. MARGRET, _the Keepers daughter of Fresingfield_. JONE, _a Farmers daughter_. _The_ HOSTESSE _at Henly, Mistresse of the Bell_.

_A_ DEVILL, _and a_ FIEND _like_ HERCULES; _a_ DRAGON _shooting fire; etc._

FOOTNOTES:

[1261] Not in Qtos.

THE HONOURABLE

Historie of Frier Bacon

[Scene First.[1262] _In, or near, Fremingham_]

_Enter_ PRINCE EDWARD[1263] _malcontented, with_ LACY _earle of Lincoln_, JOHN WARREN _earle of Sussex, and_ ERMSBIE _gentleman_: RAPH SIMNELL _the kings foole_.

_Lacie._ Why lookes my lord like to a troubled skie, When heavens bright shine is shadow'd with a fogge? Alate[1264] we ran the deere, and through the lawndes Stript[1265] with our nagges the loftie frolicke bucks That scudded fore the teisers[1266] like the wind: 5 Nere was the deere of merry Fresingfield So lustily puld down by jolly mates, Nor sharde the farmers such fat venison, So franckly dealt, this hundred yeares before; Nor have[1267] I seene my lord more frolicke in the chace; 10 And now[1268]--changde to a melancholie dumpe?

_Warren._ After the prince got to the keepers lodge, And had been jocand in the house awhile, Tossing of[1269] ale and milke in countrie cannes: Whether it was the countries sweete content, 15 Or els the bonny damsell fild us drinke That seemd so stately in her stammell[1270] red, Or that a qualme did crosse his stomacke then,-- But straight he fell into his passions.

_Ermsbie._ Sirra Raphe, what say you to your maister, 20 Shall he thus all amort[1271] live malecontent?

_Raphe._ Heerest thou, Ned?--Nay, looke if hee will speake to me!

_Edward._ What sayst thou to me, foole?

_Raphe._ I preethee, tell me, Ned, art thou in love with the keepers daughter? 26

_Edward._ How if I be, what then?

_Raphe._ Why, then, sirha, Ile teach thee how to deceive Love.

_Edward._ How, Raphe?

_Raphe._ Marrie sirha Ned, thou shalt put on my cap and my coat and my dagger,[1272] and I will put on thy clothes and thy sword: and so thou shalt be my foole. 32

_Edward._ And what of this?

_Raphe._ Why, so thou shalt beguile Love; for Love is such a proud scab, that he will never meddle with fooles nor children. Is not Raphes counsel good, Ned? 36

_Edward._ Tell me, Ned Lacie, didst thou marke the mayd, How lively[1273] in her country-weedes she lookt? A bonier wench all Suffolke cannot yeeld:-- All Suffolke! nay, all England holds none such. 40

_Raphe._ Sirha Will Ermsby, Ned is deceived.

_Ermsbie._ Why, Raphe?

_Raphe._ He saies all England hath no such, and I say, and Ile stand to it, there is one better in Warwickshire.

[The honourable historie of Frier Bacon[1279]]

_Warren._ How proovest thou that, Raphe? 45

_Raphe._ Why, is not the abbot a learned man, and hath red many bookes, and thinkest thou he hath not more learning than thou to choose a bonny wench? yes, I warrant thee, by his whole grammer.

_Ermsby._ A good reason, Raphe. 50

_Edward._ I tell the[e], Lacie, that her sparkling eyes Doe lighten forth sweet Loves alluring fire; And in her tresses she doth fold the lookes Of such as gaze upon her golden haire; Her bashfull white, mixt with the mornings red, 55 Luna doth boast upon her lovely cheekes; Her front is Beauties table,[1274] where she paints The glories of her gorgious excellence; Her teeth are shelves of pretious margarites, Richly enclosed with ruddie curroll cleves.[1275] 60 Tush, Lacie, she is Beauties overmatch, If thou survaist her curious imagerie.[1276]

_Lacie._ I grant, my lord, the damsell is as faire As simple Suffolks homely towns can yeeld: But in the court be quainter[1277] dames than she, 65 Whose faces are enricht with honours taint,[1278] Whose bewties stand upon the stage of fame, And vaunt their trophies in the Courts of Love.

_Edw._ Ah, Ned, but hadst thou watcht her as my self, And seene the secret bewties of the maid, 70 Their courtly coinesse were but foolery.

_Ermsbie._ Why, how watcht you her, my lord?

_Edward._ When as she swept like Venus through the house,-- And in her shape fast foulded up my thoughtes,-- Into the milkhouse went I with the maid, 75 And there amongst the cream-boles she did shine As Pallace 'mongst her princely huswiferie: She turnd her smocke over her lilly armes, And divd them into milke to run her cheese; But, whiter than the milke, her cristall skin, 80 Checked with lines of azur, made her blush[1280] That art or nature durst bring for compare. Ermsbie,[1281] if thou hadst seene, as I did note it well, How Bewtie plaid the huswife, how this girle, Like Lucrece, laid her fingers to the worke, 85 Thou wouldst with Tarquine hazard Roome and all To win the lovely mayd of Fresingfield.

_Raphe._ Sirha Ned, wouldst faine have her?

_Edward._ I,[1282] Raphe.

_Raphe._ Why, Ned, I have laid the plot in my head; thou shall have her alreadie. 91

_Edward._ Ile give thee a new coat, and[1282] learne me that.

_Raphe._ Why, sirra Ned, weel ride to Oxford to Frier Bacon: oh, he is a brave scholler, sirra; they say he is a brave nigromancer, that he can make women of devils, and hee can juggle cats into costermongers. 96

_Edward._ And how then, Raphe?

_Raphe._ Marry, sirrha, thou shalt go to him: and because[1283] thy father Harry shall not misse thee, hee shall turne me into thee; and Ile to the court, and Ile prince it out; and he shall make thee either a silken purse full of gold, or else a fine wrought smocke. 101

_Edward._ But how shall I have the mayd?

_Raphe._ Marry, sirha, if thou beest a silken purse full of gold, then on Sundaies sheele hang thee by her side, and you must not say a word. Now, sir, when she comes into a great prease[1284] of people, for feare of the cut-purse, on a sodaine sheele swap[1285] thee into her plackerd,[1286] then, sirrha, being there, you may plead for your selfe. 108

_Ermsbie._ Excellent pollicie!

_Edward._ But how if I be a wrought smocke? 110

_Raphe._ Then sheele put thee into her chest and lay thee into lavender, and upon some good day sheele put thee on, and at night when you go to bed, then being turnt from a smocke to a man, you may make up the match.

_Lacie._ Wonderfully wisely counselled, Raphe. 115

_Edward._ Raphe shall have a new coate.

_Raphe._ God thanke you when I have it on my backe, Ned.

_Edward._ Lacie, the foole hath laid a perfect plot; For why our countrie Margret is so coy, And standes so much upon her honest pointes, 120 That marriage, or no market with the mayd. Ermsbie, it must be nigroma[n]ticke spels And charmes of art that must inchaine her love, Or else shall Edward never win the girle. Therefore, my wags, weele horse us in the morne, 125 And post to Oxford to this jolly frier: Bacon shall by his magicke doe this deed.

_Warren._ Content, my lord; and thats a speedy way To weane these head-strong puppies from the teat.

_Edward._ I am unknowne, not taken for the prince; 130 They onely deeme us frolicke courtiers, That revell thus among our lieges game,-- Therefore I have devis'd a pollicie: Lacie, thou knowst next Friday is S. James,[1287] And then the country flockes to Harlston[1288] faire: 135 Then will the keepers daughter frolicke there, And over-shine the troupe of all the maids That come to see and to be seene that day. Haunt thee disguisd among the countrie-swaines, Feign thart a farmers sonne, not far from thence, 140 Espie her loves, and who she liketh best: Coat[1289] him, and court her, to controll the clowne; Say that the courtier tyred all in greene, That helpt her handsomly to run her cheese, And fild her fathers lodge with venison, 145 Commends him, and sends fairings to herselfe. Buy some thing worthie of her parentage, Not worth her beautie; for, Lacie, then the faire Affoords no jewell fitting for the mayd: And when thou talkest of me, note if she blush: 150 Oh then she loves; but if her cheekes waxe pale, Disdaine it is. Lacie, send how she fares, And spare no time nor cost to win her loves.

_Lacie._ I will, my lord, so execute this charge As if that Lacie were in love with her. 155

_Edward._ Send letters speedily to Oxford of the newes.

_Raphe._ And, sirha Lacie, buy me a thousand thousand million of fine bels.

_Lacie._ What wilt thou do with them, Raphe? 159

_Raphe._ Mary, every time that Ned sighs for the keepers daughter, Ile tie a bell about him: and so within three or foure daies I will send word to his father Harry, that his sonne, and my maister Ned, is become Loves morris dance.[1290]

_Edward._ Well, Lacie, look with care unto thy charge, And I will haste to Oxford to the frier, 165 That he by art and thou by secret gifts Maist make me lord of merrie Fresingfield.

_Lacie._ God send your honour your[1291] harts desire. _Exeunt._

[Scene Second. _Frier Bacons cell at Brazennose_]

_Enter Frier_ BACON, _with_ MILES, _his poore scholer, with bookes under his arme; with them_ BURDEN, MASON, CLEMENT, _three Doctors_.

_Bacon._ Miles, where are you?

_Miles._ _Hic sum, doctissime et reverendissime doctor._

_Bacon._ _Attulisti nos_[1292] _libros meos de necromantia?_

_Miles._ _Ecce quam bonum et quam jucundum habitare_[1293] _libros in unum!_

_Bacon._ Now, maisters of our academicke state, 5 That rule in Oxford, Vizroies in your place, Whose heads containe maps of the liberall arts, Spending your time in deapth of learned skill, Why flocke you thus to Bacons secret cell, A frier newly stalde in Brazennose? 10 Say whats your mind, that I may make replie.

_Burden._ Bacon, we hear that long we have suspect, That thou art read in magicks mysterie: In piromancie, to divine by flames; To tell, by hadromaticke[1294] ebbes and tides; 15 By aeromancie to discover doubts, To plaine out questions, as Apollo did.

_Bacon._ Well, Maister Burden, what of all[1295] this?

_Miles._ Marie, sir, he doth but fulfill, by rehearsing of these names, the fable of the Fox and the Grapes: that which is above us pertains nothing to us. 21

_Burden._ I tell thee, Bacon, Oxford makes report, Nay, England, and the court of Henrie saies, Th' art making of a brazen head by art, Which shall unfold strange doubts and aphorismes, 25 And read a lecture in philosophie; And, by the helpe of divels and ghastly fiends, Thou meanst, ere many yeares or daies be past, To compasse England with a wall of brasse.

_Bacon._ And what of this? 30

_Miles._ What of this, maister! why, he doth speak mystically: for he knowes, if your skill faile to make a brazen head, yet Mother Waters strong ale will fit his turne to make him have a copper-nose.

_Clement._ Bacon, we come not greeving at thy skill, But joieing that our académie yeelds 35 A man supposde the woonder of the world: For if thy cunning worke these myracles, England and Europe shall admire thy fame, And Oxford shall in characters of brasse, And statues, such as were built up in Rome, 40 Eternize Frier Bacon for his art.

_Mason._ Then, gentle Frier, tell us thy intent.

_Bacon._ Seeing you come as friends unto the frier, Resolve you, doctors, Bacon can by bookes Make storming Boreas thunder from his cave, 45 And dimme faire Luna to a darke eclipse. The great arch-ruler, potentate of hell, Trembles when Bacon bids him, or his fiends, Bow to the force of his pentageron.[1296] What art can worke, the frolicke frier knowes; 50 And therefore will I turne my magicke bookes, And straine out nigromancie to the deepe. I have contrivd and framde a head of brasse, (I made Belcephon[1297] hammer out the stuffe) And that by art shall read Philosophie: 55 And I will strengthen England by my skill, That if ten Cæsars livd and raignd in Rome, With all the legions Europe doth containe, They should not touch a grasse of English ground; The worke that Ninus reard at Babylon, 60 The brazen walles framde by Semiramis, Carvd out like to the portall of the sunne, Shall not be such as rings the English strond From Dover to the market-place of Rie.

_Burden._ Is this possible? 65

_Miles._ Ile bring ye t[w]o or three witnesses.

_Burden._ What be those?

_Miles._ Marry, sir, three or foure as honest divels and good companions as any be in hell.

_Mason._ No doubt but magicke may doe much in this; 70 For he that reades but mathematicke[1298] rules Shall finde conclusions that availe to work Wonders that passe the common sense of men.

_Burden._ But Bacon roves[1299] a bow beyond his reach, And tels of more than magicke can performe, 75 Thinking to get a fame by fooleries. Have I not past as farre in state of schooles, And red of many secrets? yet to thinke That heads of brasse can utter any voice, Or more, to tell of deepe philosophie, 80 This is a fable Æsop had forgot.

_Bacon._ Burden, thou wrongst me in detracting thus; Bacon loves not to stuffe himselfe with lies. But tell me fore these doctors, if thou dare, Of certaine questions I shall move to thee. 85

_Burden._ I will: aske what thou can.

_Miles._ Marrie, sir, heele straight be on your pickpacke to knowe whether the feminine or the masculin gender be most worthie.

_Bacon._ Were you not yesterday, Maister Burden, at Henly upon the Thembs? 90

_Burden._ I was: what then?

_Bacon._ What booke studied you thereon all night?

_Burden._ I! none at all; I red not there a line.

_Bacon._ Then, doctors, Frier Bacons art knowes nought.

_Clement._ What say you to this, Maister Burden? doth hee not touch you? 96

_Burden._ I passe not of his frivolous speeches.

_Miles._ Nay, Master Burden, my maister, ere hee hath done with you, will turne you from a doctor to a dunce, and shake you so small, that he will leave no more learning in you than is in Balaams asse. 101

_Bacon._ Maisters, for that learned Burdens skill is deepe, And sore he doubts of Bacons cabalisme, I'll shew you why he haunts to Henly oft: Not, doctors, for to tast the fragrant aire, 105 But there to spend the night in alcumie, To multiplie with secret spels of art; Thus privat steales he learning from us all. To proove my sayings true, Ile shew you straight The booke he keepes at Henly for himselfe. 110

_Miles._ Nay, now my maister goes to conjuration, take heed.

_Bacon._ Maisters,[1300] stand still, feare not, Ile shewe you but his booke. _Here he conjures._ _Per omnes deos infernales, Belcephon!_ 114

_Enter a_ Woman _with a shoulder of mutton on a spit, and a_ Devill.

_Miles._ Oh, maister, cease your conjuration, or you spoile all; for heeres a shee divell come with a shoulder of mutton on a spit: you have mard the divels supper; but no doubt hee thinkes our colledge fare is slender, and so hath sent you his cooke with a shoulder of mutton, to make it exceed.

_Hostesse._ Oh, where am I, or whats become of me? 120

_Bacon._ What art thou?

_Hostesse._ Hostesse at Henly, mistresse of the Bell.

_Bacon._ How camest thou heere?

_Hostesse._ As I was in the kitchen mongst the maydes, Spitting the meate against[1301] supper for my guesse,[1301] 125 A motion mooved me to looke forth of dore. No sooner had I pried into the yard, But straight a whirlewind hoisted me from thence, And mounted me aloft unto the cloudes. As in a trance I thought nor feared nought, 130 Nor know I where or whether I was tane, Nor where I am, nor what these persons be.

_Bacon._ No? know you not Maister Burden?

_Hostesse._ O yes, good sir, he is my daily guest.-- What, Maister Burden! twas but yesternight 135 That you and I at Henly plaid at cardes.

_Burden._ I knowe not what we did.--A poxe of all conjuring friars!

_Clement._ Now, jolly Frier, tell us, is this the booke That Burden is so carefull to looke on?[1302] 140

_Bacon._ It is.--But, Burden, tell me now, Thinkest thou that Bacons nicromanticke skill Cannot performe his head and wall of brasse, When he can fetch thine hostesse in such post? 144

_Miles._ Ile warrant you, maister, if Maister Burden could conjure as well as you, hee would have his booke everie night from Henly to study on at Oxford.

_Mason._ Burden, what, are you mated by this frolicke frier?-- Looke how he droops; his guiltie conscience Drives him to bash,[1303] and makes his hostesse blush. 150