Pith. Most wyllingly, O mightie kyng; if Da-, When I wyll deliver thee from all trouble and mon fayle let Pithias die. Dion. Thou seemest to trust his wordes, that pawnest thy lyfe so franckly. Pith. What Damon saith, Pithias beleveth assuredly. Dion. Take heede, for life worldly men breake promise in many thinges. PithThough worldly men doo so, it never happes amongst friendes. Dion. What callest thou friendes, are they not men? is not this true? Pith. Men they be, but such men as love one another onely for vertue. Dion. For what vertue doste thou love this spie, this Damon ? Pith. For that vertue which yet to you is unknowne. Dion. Eubulus, what shall I doo? I would dispatch this Damon fayne, But this foolish felow so chargeth mee, that I may not call back my worde againe. Eub. The reverent majestie of a king stands chieflie in keeping his promise. What you have sayde this whole courte beareth witnesse. Save your honour whatsoever you doo. Dion. For saveing mine honour, I must forbeare my wyll. Go to, Pithias, seeing thou tookest me at my word, take Damon to thee, For two monthes he is thine, unbinde him, I set him free; Which time once expired, yf he appeare not the next day by noone, Without further delay thou shalt lose thy lyfe, and that full soone. Whether he die by the way, or lie sick in his bedd, If he retourne not then, thou shalt either hange or lose thy head. Pith. For this, O mightie kinge, I yeld immortall thankes. O joyfull day! Dion. Gronno, take him to thee, bind him, see him kept in safetie. If he escape, assure thyselfe for him thou shalt die. Eubulus, let us departe, to talke of this straunge thinge within. Eub. I folowe. [Exeunt. Gron. Damon, thou servest the gods well today, be thou of comfort. As for you, sir, I thinke you will be hanged in sporte, You heard what the kinge sayde? I must kepe you safely: By cocke, so I wyll, you shall rather hange then I. Come on your way. Pith. My Damon, farewel; the gods have thee in kepeing. Dam. Oh, my Pithias, my pledge, farewel; I parte from thee weeping. But joyfull at my day appoynted I wyll retourne agayne, paine. Stephano wyll I leave behinde mee to wayte upon thee in prison alone, And I, whom fortune hath reserved to this miserie, wyll walke bome. Ah, my Pithias, my pledge, my life, my friende, farewel. Pith. Farewel, my Damon. Dam. Loth I am to departe, sith sobbes my trembling tounge doth stay; Oh, musicke, sound my dolefull playntes when I am gone my way. [Exit DAMON. Gron. I am glad he is gone, I had almost wept Therfore farewel, Stephano, commend me to my friende Pithas, Steph. Then say on thy minde: I have taken a wise othe on him, have I not trow ye? truste such a false knave upon his honestie ? As he is an honest man, quoth you? he may be wray all to the kinge, Whom I trust to deliver in time out of this wo-To O cruell happe! oh, poore Stephano! But what a noyes is this? is all well within trow I feare all be not well within, I wyll go sce.Come out, you wesell, are you seekinge egs in Damon's cheste? Come out, I say, wylt thou be packing? by cocke you weare best. Caris. How durst thou, villaine, to lay handes on me? Steph. Out, sir knave, or I wyll sende yee. Steph. Thine owne, villaine! where is thine Caris. I am authoritie of myselfe, dost thou not know? Steph. By'r ladie, that is somewhat; but have you no more to show? Caris. What if I have not? Steph. Then for an earnest penie take this blow. I shall bumbast you, you mocking knave; schil put pro in my purse for this time. Caris. Jacke, give me my sword and targat. Jucke, I cannot com to you, maister, this knave doth me let.-Hold, maister. Steph. Away, Jacknapes, els I wyll colpheg you 49 by and by, Ye slave, I wyll have my penyworthes of thee therefore if I die; Aboute, villayne. Caris. O, citezens, helpe to defend me. quietly, beat me no morc. Caris. I wyll say nothyng, here is my hand, as And breke his othe for this never a whit-But, my franion, so I tell you this one thing, If you disclose this, I wyll devise such a way, That whilst thou livest thou shalt remember this day. Caris. You neede not devise for that, for this I warrant you, I shall remember this beating till Steph. Why so? I pray thee hartely. Steph. He should not, but what he doth, it is And as farre as I can learne or understand, There is none better able to keepe knaves in all the land. Caris. Oh, sir, I am a courtier, when courtiers shall heare tell, How you have used me, they will not take it well. Steph. Nay, all right courtiers will kenne me thanke; and wot you why? Because I handled a counterfait courtier in his kinde so finely. What, syr? all are not courtiers that have a counterfait show; In a trope of honest men, some knaves may stand, ye know, Such as by stelth creep in under the colour of honestie, Which sorte under that cloke doo all kinde of villanie: A right courtier is vertuous, gentill, and full of urbanitie, Hurting no man, good to all, devoide of villanie: But suche as thou art, fountaines of squirilitie, and vayne delightes; Though you hange by the courtes, you are but flat- As well deserving the right name of courtesie, 43 Let me hinder me. 49 Colpheg you-I believe we should read, colaphize, i. e. box or buffet. Colaphiser, Fr. See Cotgrave's Dict. S. 50 But, my franion-i. e. loose companion. So Spenser : Again, in The First Part of King Edward IV. Sign. C5; "Hees a franke franion, a merrie companion, and loves a wench well." Steph. Nay, upon a farther reckoning, I wyll pay you more, if I know Either you talke of that is done, or by your siccphanticall envye, You pricke forth Dionisius the sooner, that Damon may die; I wyll so pay thee, that thy bones shall rattell in thy skinne. name. Remember what I have sayde, Onaphets is my [Exit. Caris. The sturdie knave is gone, the devyll him take, He hath made my head, shoulders, armes, sides, and all to ake. Thou horson villaine boy, why didst thou waite no better? As he payde mee, so wyll I not die thy debter. Jacke. Mayster, why doo you fight with me? I am not your match, you see; You durst not fight with him that is gone, and wyll you wreke your anger on mee? Caris. Thou villaine, by thee I have lost mine honour, Beaten with a codgell like a slave, a vacaboun, or a lasie lubber, And not geven one blow agayne; hast thou handled me well? Jacke. Maister I handled you not, but who handled you very handsomly you can tell. Caris. Handsomly! thou crake rope. Jacke. Yea, sir, very handsomly: I holde you a grote, If he had seene your weapon, he would have ben fierser, And so perhaps beate you worse, I speake it with my harte, You were never at the dealing of fence blowes, but you had foure away for your part. It is but your lucke, you are man good enough. But the wealche Onaphets was a vengeance knave, and rough. Maister, you were best goe home and rest in your bedde, Meethinkes your cappe waxeth to little for your heade. Caris. What! doth my head swell? Jacke. Yea, as bigge as a codshed, and bleades too. Caris. I am ashamed to show my face with this hew. Jacke. No shame at all, men have bin beaten farre better then you. Caris. I must go to the chirurgian's; what shal I say when I am dressyng? Jacke. You may say truly you met with a knave's blessing. [Exeunt. Here entreth ARISTIPPUS. Aris. By mine owne experience I prove true that many men tell, To live in courte not beloved, better be in hell: What crying out, what cursyng is there within of Carisophus, Because he accused Damon to kinge Dionisius? Even now he came whining and crying into the courte for the nonce, Shewinge that one Onaphets had broke his knave's Sconce. Which straunge name when they heard every man laught hartely, And I by myselfe scan'd his name secretly; In tossing it often with myselfe too and fro, I smiled in my sleve, how to see by tournyng his name he drest him, And how for Damon his master's sake, with a wodden cougell he blest him. None pittied the knave, no man nor woman, but al laught him to scorne. 52 Creliso cum Cretense-read Konŝw. Vide Erasm. Chiliad. The Cretans were famous for double dealing. Cretizare, however, is a word employed by lexicographers, instead of mentiri. S. I offende none, in so muche that wemen singe this to my great prayse, Omnis Aristippum decait color, et locus et res. But in all this joylytie one thinge maseth me, The straungest thinge that ever was harde or knowne, Is now happened in this court, by that Damon, Whom Carisophus accused; Damon is now at libertie, For whose returne Pithias his friend lieth in prison, alas, in great jeopardy. To-morrow is the day, which day by noone if Damon returne not ernestly, The kinge hath sworne that Pithias should die, Wherof Pithias hath intelligence very secretly, Wishing that Damon may not returne tyll he have payde His lyfe for his friend. Hath it ben hearetofore ever sayde, That any man for his friend would die so willyngly? O, noble friendship! O, perfect amitic! That he trusteth none to come nere him, not his But with hote burning nutshales they senge of his heares. If you play Jacke napes, in mocking my master, and dispising my face, Even here with a pantacle 53 I wyll you disgrace; And though you have a farre better face then I, Yet who is better man of us two these fistes shall trie, Unlesse you leave your taunting. Jacke. Thou began'st first; didst thou not say even nowe, That Carisophus, my master, was no man, but a cowe, In takinge so many blowes, and 54 geve never a blow agayn? Wyll. I sayde so, indeede he is but a tame ruffian, That can swere by his flaske and twiche-box, 55 and God's precious lady, And yet will be beaten with a faggot-stick. These barking whelpes were never good biters, Ne yet great crakers were ever great fighters: But seeinge you eg mee so much, I wyll some what more resight, I say, Carisophus, thy master, is a flattring parasite; Glening away the sweet from the worthy in al the 53 Even here with a pantacle--I suppose he means to say a pantofle, i. e. a slipper. Perhaps he begins his attack with a kick. S. 54 Geve-gave, 1st edit. 55 His flaske and twiche-box-More properly touch-box. While match-locks, instead of fire-locks, to guns were used; the touch-box, at which the match was lighted, was part of the accoutrement of a soldier. "When she his flask and touch-box set on fire," is the line of an author, whose name I cannot at this time recollect. S. Wyll. In faith, dutting Duttrell, 56 you wyll crye creake. Here entreth SNAP. Snap. Away, you cracke ropes, are you fighting at the courte-gate? And I take you heare agayne, I will swindge you both, what? [Exit SNAP. Jacke. I beshrew Snap the tipstaffe, that great knave's hart, that hether did come, Had he not ben, you had cryed ere this, Victus, victa, victum: But seing wee have breathed ourselves, if ye list, Let us agree like friends, and shake eche other by the fist. Wyll. Content am I, for I am not malicious; but on this condition, That you talke no more so brode of my master as here you have done. But who have wee heere? is Cober epi 57 comming yonder? Jacke. Wyll, let us slipp aside, and vewe him well. Here entreth GRIMME, the Coliar, whistling. Grimme. What devell iche wcene the porters are drunke, wil they not dup the gate to-day? Take in coles for the king's owne mouth, wyll no body stur, I say? Ich might have layne tway howers longer in my bedde, Cha taried so longe here, that my teeth chatter in my heade. Jacke. Wyll, after our fallinge out, wilt thou laugh merily? Wyll. I mary, Jacke, I pray thee hartely. Jacke. Then folow me, and hemme in a worde now and then. What braulynge knave is there at the courte-gate so early? Wyll. It is some braine-sicke villaine, I durst lay a pennie. Jacke. Was it you, 53 sir, that cryed so lowde I trow, And bid us take in coles for the kinges mouth even now? Grimme. "Twas I, indeede. Jacke. Why, sir, how dare you speake such petie treason? Doth the king eate coles at any season? Grimme. Heere is a gaye world! boyes now settes olde men to scoole, I sayde wel enough; what, Jack sawce, thinkst cham a foole? At bakehouse, butterie-hatch, kitchin, and seller, Grimme. What then! seing without coles thei cannot finely dresse the kinges meat, May I not say, take in coles for the kinges mouth, though coles he do not eate? Jacke. James Christe, came ever from a colier an aunswer so trimme? You are learned, are you not, father Grimme? Grimme. Grimme is my name indeed, cham not learned, and yet the king's colier, This vortie winter cha bin to the king a serviter. Though I be not learned, yet cha mother witte enough whole and some. Wyll. So it seemes; you have so much mother wit, that you lacke your father's wisdome, Grimme. Masse, cham well beset; heres a trimme caste of Murleons; 60 What be you, my pretie cockerels, that ask me these questions? Jacke. Good faith, maister Grimme, if such Marlines on your pouch may light, Thei are so quick of winge, that quickly they can carie it out of your sight; And though we are cockerels now, we shall have spurs one day, And shall be able perhaps to make you a capon : But to tell you the trouth, we are the porters men, which, early and late, Wayte on suche gentlemen as you, to open the court-gate. Grimme. Are ye servants then? Wyll. Yea, sir, are we not pretie men? Grimme. Pretie men, quoth you? nay, you are stronge men, els you coulde not bear these britches. Wyll. Are these such great hose? in faith, goodman colier, you see with your nose: By myn honestie, I have but one lining in one hose, but seven els of roug. 56 Duttrell-A dottrell is a silly kind of bird, which imitates the actions of the fowler, till at last he is taken. So, in Butler's Character of a Fantastic, Remains, Vol. II. p. 132. "He alters his gait with the times, and has not a motion of his body that (like a dottrell) he does not borrow from somebody else.” 57 Cobex epi-These I suppose to be words corrupted by the ignorance of the transcriber. S. 58 Was it you-It was you, Ist edit. 59 Doo-Doth, 2d edit. 60A trimme cast of Murleons-i. e. a cast of that species of hawks that were called Merlins. S. He calls them Murleons on account of their size. Merlins were the smallest species of hawks. Turberville says, "These Merlyns are very much like the haggart falcon in plume, in sear of the foote, in beake, and talons. So as there seemeth to be no oddes or difference at al betwixt them, save onely in the bignesse, for she hath like demeanure, like plume, and very like conditions to the falcon, and in hir kind is of like courage, and therefore must be kept as choycely and as daintily as the falcon." The merlin was chiefly used to fly at small birds; and Latham says, it was particularly appropriated to the service of ladies. 61 Maister Grimme-Father Grimme, 2d edit, |