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Friendes are the surest garde for kinges, gold in time doos92 ware away,

And other precious thinges doo fade, friendship wyll never decay.

Have friendes in store therefore, so shall you safely sleape;

Have friendes at home, of forraine foes so neede you take no keepe.

Abandon flatring tongues, whose clackes truth never tels;

Abase the yll, advance the good, in whome dame Vertue dwels;

Let them your playfelowes be: but, O you earthly kinges,

Your sure defence and strongest garde stands
chiefly in faithfull friendes;
Then get you friends by liberall deedes; and here
I make an ende.

Accept this counsell, mightie king, of Damon, Pithias' friende.

Oh! my Pithias, now farewell for ever; let me kisse thee or93 I die,

My soule shall honour thee, thy constant faith above the heavens shall flie.

Come, Gronno, doo thine office now; why is thy colour so dead?

My neck is so short, that thou wilt never have honestie in striking of this head.94

Dion. Eubulus, my spirites are sodenly appauled, my limes waxe weake,

This straunge friendship amaseth me so, that I can scarse speake.

Pith. Omightie kinge, let some pittie your noble harte meeve!

You require but one man's death, take Pithias, let Damon live.

Eub. O unspeakable friendship! Dam. Not so, he hath not offended, there is no cause why

My constant friend Pithias for Damon's sake should die.

Alas, he is but young, he may doo good to many. Thou cowarde minister, why doest thou not let mee die ?

Gron. My hand with soden feare quivereth. Pith. O noble kinge, shewe mercy upon Damon, let Pithias die.

Dion. Stay, Gronno, my flesh trembleth. Eabulus, what shall I doo?

Were there ever such friendes on earth as were these two?

What harte is so cruell that would devide them asunder?

O noble friendship, I must yield, at thy force L wonder.

My hart this rare friendship hath pearst to the roote,

And quenched all my fury, this sight hath brought this about,

Which thy grave counsell, Eubulus, and learned perswasion could never doo.

O noble gentlemen, the immortal gods above Hath made you play this tragedie, I think, for my behove:

Before this day, I never knew what perfect friendship ment;

My cruell mind to bloudy deedes was full and wholy bente;

My fearefull life I thought with terrour to de- | fende;

But now I see there is no garde unto a faithfull friend,

Which wyll not spare his lyfe at time of present neede;

O happie kinges, who in your courtes have two such friends indeed!

I honour friendship now, which that you may playnly see,

Damon, have thou thy lyfe, from death I pardon thee;

For which good tourne, I crave this honour doe me lend,

Oh friendly hart, let me linke with you, to you95 make me the third friende. My courte is yours, dwell here with mee, by my commission large,

Myself, my realme, my welth, my health, I com, mit to your charge:

Make me a thirde friend, more shall I joye in that thing,

Then to be called, as I am, Dionisius, the mightie kinge.

Dam. O mightie king, first for my lyfe most humble thankes I geve,

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94 My neck is so short, that thou wylt never have honestie in striking of this head-i. e. thou wilt derive no credit from striking off a head so disadvantageously placed from the purpose of decollation. Honnebete, Fr. anciently signified fame, or reputation, in the dexterous execution of any undertaking, whether honourable, or the contrary. Honesty seems here to be used with the French meaning. S.

In this instance, the author appears to have had before him the speech which Sir Thomas More made at his execution. Hall, in his Chronicle, tempore Henry VIII. p. 226. says," Also the hangman kneled doun to him, askyng him forgevenes of his death, (as the manner is); to whom he sayed, I forgeve thee, but I promise thee, that thou shalt never have honestie of the strykyng of my head, my necke is so short,” 95 To you two to, 2d edit.

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And next, I prayse the immortall gods that did | Poore Stephano now shall live in continuall joy:

your harte so meve,

That you would have respect to friendship's heavenly lore,

Forseing wel he need not feare which hath true friends in store.

For my part, most noble king, as a third friend, welcom to our friendly societie; But you must forget you are a king, for friendship standes in true equalitie.

Dion. Unequall though I be in great possessions,

Yet full equall shall you finde me in my changed conditions.

Tirrannie, flatterie, oppression, loe hear I cast away;

Justice, truth, love, friendship, shall be my joy: True friendship wyl I honour unto my live's end, My greatest glorie shal be to be counted a perfect friende.

Pith. For this your deede, most noble king, the gods advance your name;

And since to friendship's lore you list your princely harte to frame,

With joyful hart, O kinge, most wellcome now to

mie,

With you wyll I knit the perfect knot of amitie: Wherein I shall enstruct you so, and Damon here your friend,

That you may know of amitie the mightie force, and eke the joyful end.

And how that kinges doo stand uppon a fickle ground,

Within whose realme at time of need no faithfull friends are founde.

Dion. Your instruction wyll I folow, to you myself I doo commite.

Eubulus, make haste to set new apparell fitte
For my new friends.

Eub. I go with joyful hart; O happie day!
[Erit.
Gron. I am glade to heare this word; though
their lives they do not leese,

It is no reason the hangman should lose his fees:

These are mine, I am gone with a trise. [Erit.

Here entreth EUBULUS with new garmentes. Dion. Put on these garmentes now, goe in with me, the jewelles of my court. Dam. and Pith. We go with joyfull harts. Steph. Oh Damon, my deare master, in all this joy remember me.

Dion. My friend Damon, he asketh reason. Dam. Stephano, for thy good service, be thou free. [Exeunt all but STEPHANO. Steph. O most happie, pleasant, joyfull, and triumphant day!

Vive le roy, with Damon and Pithias, in perfect amitie.

Vive tu Stephano, in thy pleasant liberalitie : Wherein I joy as much as he that hath a conquest

wonne;

I am a free man, none so mery as I now under the sonne.

Farewel, my lords, nowe the gods graunt you al the som of perfect amitie,

And me longe to enjoy my longe-desired libertie. [Exit.

Heare entreth EUBULUS beatyng CARISOPHUS. Eub. Away, villaine, away; you flatringe parasite, Away, the plague of this courte: thy filed tongue, that forged lies,

No more here shall doo hurt; away, false sicophant, wilt thou not?

Caris. I am gone, sir, seeing it is the kinges pleasure.

Why whyp ye me alone? a plague take Damon and Pithias, since they came hither

I am driven to seke releefe abrod, alas! I know not whither.

Yet,

Eubulus, though I be gone, hereafter time sball trie,

There shall be found, even in this courte, as great flatterers as I.

Well, for a while I wyll forgo the courte, though to my great payne;

I doubt not but to spie a time when I may creepe in againe. [Exit.

Eub. The serpent that eates men alive, flattery, with all her broode,

Is whipte away in princes courtes, whiche yet did never good.

What force, what mighty power, true friendship may possesse,

To all the worlde, Dionisius' courte now playnely doth expresse,

Who since to faithfull friendes he gave his willyng eare,

Most safely sitteth in his seate, and sleepes de

void of feare.

Pourged is the courte of vice, since friendship entred in,

Tirannie quailes, he studieth now with love eche hart to win;

Vertue is had in price, and hath his just rewarde; And painted speache, that gloseth for gayne, from gifts is quite debar'd.

One loveth another now for vertue, not for gayne; Where vertue doth not knit the knot, there friendship cannot raigne ;

Without the whiche, no house, no land, ne kingdome can endure, necessarie for man's lyfe, as water, ayre, and fier,

As

96 No reason-not reason, 1st edit.

Which frameth the minde of man, all honest

thinges to doo;

Unhonest thinges friendshippe ne craveth ne yet consents thereto.

In wealth a double joye, in woe a present stay, A sweete compagnion in each state true friendship is alway:

A sure defence for kinges, a perfect trustie bande,

A force to assayle, a shielde to defende the ene-
mies cruell hande,

A rare,
So rare, that scarce four couple of faithful friends
have ben since the worlde began.

and yet the greatest gift that God can
geve to man :

A gift so strange, and of such price, I wish all
kyngs to have;

But chiefely yet, as duetie bindeth, I humbly

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The last Songe:

The strongest garde that kynges can have,
Are constant friends their stute to save:
True friendes are constant both in word and deede,
True friendes are present, and helpe at each neede:
True friendes talke truely, they glose for no gayne,
When treasure consumeth, true friendes wyll re-

mayne:

True friendes for their true prince refuseth not their death:

The Lord graunt her such friendes, most noble queene Elizabeth.

Longe may she governe in honour and wealth, Voide of all sicknesse, in most perfect health: Which health to prolonge, as true friends require, God graunt she may have her owne hartes desire: Which friendes wyll defend with most stedfast faith,

The Lorde graunt her such friendes, most noble queene Elizabeth.

(1.)"

EDITIONS.

"The excellent Comedie of two the moste faithfullest freendes Damon and Pithias. Newly imprinted as the same was shewed before the queenes majestie, by the children of her graces chappell, except the prologue, that is somewhat altered for the proper use of them that hereafter shall have occasion to plaie it either in private or open audience. Made by Maister Edwards, then beynge maister of the children, 1571. Imprinted at London, in Fleetelane, by Richard Jones, and are to be solde at his shop joyning to the south-west doore of Paule's churche." 4to, black letter. (2.) Another edition in 4to, B. L. 1582. Both in Mr Garrick's collection.

GAMMER GURTON'S NEEDLE.

This dramatic piece is the first performance which appeared in England under the name of a comedy. As a former editor of it (Mr Hawkins) observes, “There is a vein of familiar humour in this play, and a kind of grotesque imagery not unlike some parts of Aristophanes, but without those graces of language and metre for which the Greek comedian was eminently distinguished.” The author of it is wholly unknown. In the title-page he is only stiled Mr S- master of arts; and we are informed it was acted at Christ's College, Cambridge.

The former edition of this play, and that of Mr Hawkins, were both printed from a re-publication in the year 1661, full of every kind of errors, and some of them so gross as to render the sense of the author totally unintelligible. The present is given from a copy printed in the year 1575, which is probably the first edition; although Chetwood, in his British Theatre, hath set down the dates of 1551 and 1559: but these, like some of the editions of Shakespeare's plays, enumerated in that work, are supposed never to have existed but in the compiler's own imagination.

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Diccon, the Bedlem-Diccon is the ancient abbreviation of Richard. See Mr Steevens's note on Richard III. A. 5. S. 3.

2 The Bedlem-after the dissolution of the religious houses where the poor of every denomination were provided for, there was for many years no settled or fixed provision made to supply the want of that care which those bodies appear always to have taken of their distressed brethren. In consequence of this neglect, the idle and dissolute were suffered to wander about the country, assuming such characters as they imagined were most likely to insure success to their frauds, and security from detection. Among other disguises, many affected madness, and were distinguished by the name of Bedlam Beggars. These are mentioned by Edgar, in King Lear :

"The country gives me proof and precedent,
Of bedlam beggars, who, with roaring voices,
Stick in their numb'd and mortify'd bare arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary,
And with this horrible object from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheep-cotes, and mills,

Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayer,
Inforce their charity."

In Dekker's Belman of London, 1616, all the different species of beggars are enumerated. Amongst the rest are mentioned Tom of Bedlam's band of mad caps, otherwise called Poor Tom's flock of wild geese,

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(whom here thou seest by his black and blue naked arms to be a man beaten to the world,) and those wild geese, or hair brains, are called Abraham-men. An Abraham-man is afterwards described in this mauner: "Of all the mad rascals, (that are of this wing,) the Abraham-man is the most fantastick. The fellow (quoth this old Lady of the Lake unto me) that sate half-naked (at table to-day) from the girdle upward, is the best Abraham-man that ever came to my house, and the notablest villain: he swears he hath been in Bedlam, and will talk frantickly of purpose: you see pins stuck in sundry places of his naked flesh, especially in his arms, which pain he gladly puts himself to, (being indeed no torment at all, his skin is either so dead with some foule disease, or so hardened with weather,) only to make you believe he is out of his wits: he calls himself by the name of Poor Tom, and coming near any body, cries out, Poor Tom is a cold. Of these Abraham-men, some be exceeding merry, and do nothing but sing songes, fashioned out of their own braines; some will dance; others will do nothing but either laugh or weep; others are dogged, and are sullen both in look and speech, that, spying but a small company in a house, they boldly and bluntly enter, compelling the servants through fear to give them what they demand, which is commonly bacon, or something that will yield ready money."

Of this respectable fraternity Diccon seems to have been a member.

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Massinger mentions them in A new way to pay old Debts, A. 2. S. 2. “ Are they padders, or Abrammen, that are your consorts?"

3

out of thir balkes-the summer beam, or dorman. Poles laid over a stable, or other building. Ray's Collection of English Words, p. 167.

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