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Enter MUSGROVE and CUDDY, and Master
GRIME, WILY, Maid MARIAN, and BETTRIS.
Edw. Which is thy old father, Cuddy?
Cuddy. This, if it please your majesty.
Edw. Ah, old Musgrove, stand up;
It fits not such grey hairs to kneel.
Mus. Long live

My sovereign! long and happy be his days!
Vouchsafe, my gracious lord, a simple gift,
At Billy Musgrove's hand.

King James at Meddellom-castle gave me this,
This won the honour, and this give I thee.

Edw. Godamercy, Musgrove, for this friendly
gift;

And for thou feld'st a king with this same weapon,
This blade shall here dub valiant Musgrove knight.
Mus. Alas, what hath your highness done? I

am poor.

Edw. 38 To mend thy living, take thou Meddellom-castle,

The hold of both; and if thou want living, complain,

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this, Grime?

Grime. Marry, my lord, I think this boy hath
More knavery than all the world besides.
Yet am I content that George shall both have
My daughter and my lands.

Edw. Now, George, it rests I gratify thy worth;
And therefore, here I do bequeath to thee,
In full possession, half that Kendall hath;
And what as Bradford holds of me in chief,
I give it frankly unto thee for ever.
Kneel down, George.

Geo. What will your majesty do?
Edw. Dub thee a knight, George.

Geo. I beseech your grace, grant me one thing.
Edw. What is that?

Geo. Then let me live and die a yeoman still:
So was my father, so must live his son.
For 'tis more credit to men of base degree,
To do great deeds, than men of dignity.
Edw. Well, be it so, George.

James. I beseech your grace dispatch with me,

38 To mend thy living, take thou Meddellom-castle.-Mr Grose, who has given two views of this Castle, and a very accurate history of the several changes of its owners, in his Antiquities of England and Wales, vol. iv. supposes, that this play hath little or no foundation in history." The king," says he, "here is simply named Edward, without any other distinction; but as the Scots King is called James, and mention is made of Edward's son, it can only be Edward the Fourth, he being the first of that name contemporary with a James, and the last that had issue.

"Having thus ascertained the king, the next step is to see, whether the other circumstances accord with the events of that reign; but in these there is very little similarity; for although there was a war with the Scots, no decisive battle was fought near Middleham, neither was the King of Scotland taken prisoner. It is true, there was an insurrection in Yorkshire towards the latter end of this reign, on acCount of a contribution demanded for the maintenance of an hospital at York; but this was terminated by the defeat of the rebels at Banbury. I will not object to the anachronism of introducing here Robin Hood, who lived in the reign of Richard the First. The introduction of imaginary characters was a liberty then frequently taken in old historical Plays, in order to divert the audience, and enliven the representation-a compliment to the upper galleries of those times. It may also be objected, that the Castle of Middleham was, about that period, the property of Richard, Duke of Gloucester. To this it may be answered, That a man of the age old Musgrove is here described to be, would not, in all probabi lity, hold it above a year or two, after which it might be granted to Richard.'. 3 M

VOL. I.

And set down my ransom:

Put in pledge for these things to your grace,

Edw. George a Greene, set down the king of And so return. King James, are you contes

Scots

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James. I am content, and like your majesty
And will leave good castles in security.

Edw. I crave no more. Now George a Gree
I'll to thy house; and when I have supt,
I'll go to Ask, and see if Jane a Barley be so f
As good king James reports her for to be.

Those towns which he hath burnt upon the bor- And for the ancient custom of Vail staff,

ders;

Give a small pension to the fatherless,

Keep it still, claim privilege from me.
If any ask a reason why? or how?

Whose fathers he caused murthered in those wars; Say, English Edward vail'd his staff to you.

(Exc

EDITION.

A pleasant conceyted Comedie of George a Greene the Pinner of Wakefield. As it sundry times acted by the Servants of the Right Honourable the Earl of Sussex. Imprinted at L don, by Simon Stafford, for Cuthbert Burby; and are to be sold at his Shop neare the Royal I change, 1599, 4to.

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From Heywood's" Apology for Actors," it appears, that Thomas Kyd was the author of the "Spa tish Tragedy, or Hieronimo is Mad again." But whether he likewise wrote this " First Part of Jeonimo" does not appear.

This "First Part of Jeronimo" is so scarce, that many have doubted whether it ever existed; and Mr Coxeter and the author of the "Playhouse Dictionary" were of opinion, that what is called the Spanish Tragedy, or Hieronimo is Mad again," was only the old play altered and new named.— Ben Jonson has a passage in the induction to" Cynthia's Revels," 1600, that seems to favour that opi ion: "Another swears down all that sit about him, that the old Hieronimo, as it was first acted, vas the only best and judiciously pen'd play of Europe."

They were, however, two distinct plays, as appears from this copy of the First Part, which is printed from one in the valuable collection of David Garrick, Esq.

From another passage in the induction to" Cynthia's Revels," acted in 1600, it may be conjectured, that "Jeronimo" first appeared on the stage about the year 1588. "They say (says one of the children of the Queen's Chapel) the ghosts of some three or four plays, departed a dozen years since, have been seen walking on your stage here."

Sound a Signet, and pass over the Stage. Enter |
at one door the King of Spain, Duke of Castile,
Duke Medina, LORENZO, and ROGERO; at ano-
ther door, ANDREA, HORATIO, and JERONIMO.
JERONIMO kneels down, and the King creates
him Marshall of Spain; LORENZO puts on his
Spurs, and ANDREA his Sword. The King goes
along with JERONIMO to his House; after a long
Signet is sounded, enter all the Nobles, with co-
vered dishes, to the Banquet.
Exeunt omnes.
as before.

That done, enter all again

Marshal of Spain, by all the dues
And customary rights unto thy office.

Jer. My knee sings thanks unto your highness'
bounty.-

Come hither, boy Horatio; fold thy joints;
Kneel by thy father's loins, and thank my leege,
By honouring me, thy mother, and thyself,
With this high staff of office.

Hor. O, my leege,

I have a heart thrice stronger than my years, And that shall answer gratefully for me. Let not my youthful blush impare my valour : If ever you have foes, or red field scars, Spain. Frolick, Jeronimo! thou art now con- I'll empty all my veins to serve your wars; firmed

I'll bleed for you; and more, what speech affords,

Sound a signet-This word, which is variously spelt, as senet, cynet, sennet, sinet, signate, synnet, signet, &c. I believe to be no more than a corruption of sonata, Ital. See a note on Julius Cæsar, Vol. VIII. p. 9. and another on King Henry VIII. Vol. VII. p. 236. S.

2 Lorenzo puts on his spurs.-This ceremony is still retained in the creation of a Knight of the Bath, and is generally performed by some person of eminence. See Ansti's Historical Essay upon the Knighthood of the Bath, 4to, 1725. Lord Herbert of Cherbury's Life, p. 54.

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bute returned?

Emb. Tribute in words, my leege, but not in
coin.

Spain. Ha! dare he still procrastinate with
Spain?

Not tribute paid! not three years paid!
'Tis not at his coin,

But his slack homage, that we most repine.
Jer. My leege, if my opinion might stand firm
Within your highness' thoughts->

Spain. Marshal, our kingdom calls thee father; Therefore speak free.

Thy counsel I'll embrace, as I do thee.

Jer. I thank your highness. Then, my gracious lecge,

I hold it meet, by way of embassage,
To demand his mind, and the neglect of tribute.
But, my leege,

Here must be kind words, which doth oft besiege
The ears of rough-hewn tyrants, more than blows;
Oh, a politic speech beguiles the ears of foes.
Marry, my leege, mistake me not, I pray;

Med. Only, with pardon, mighty sovereign,
Cast. I should have chose Don Lorenzo.
Med. I, Don Rogero.

Rog. Oh, no; not me, my lords,

I am war's champion, and my fees are swords. Pray, king, pray, peers, let it be Don Andrea; He's a worthy limb,

Loves wars and soldiers, therefore I love him. Jer. And I love him and thee, valiant Roger Noble spirits, gallant bloods;

You are no wise, insinuating lords,

You ha' no tricks, you ha' none of all their sleight
Lor. So, so, Andrea must be sent embassador
Lorenzo is not thought upon : good!
I'll wake the court, or startle out some blood.
Spain. How stand you, lords, to this election
Omnes. Right pleasing, our dread sovereign.
Spain. Then, Don Andrea,-

And. My approved leege.

Spain. We make thee our lord high embassador
And. Your highness circles me with honour
bounds;

I still discharge the weight of your command
With best respect: if friendly tempered phrase
Cannot affect the virtue of your charge,
I will be hard like thunder, and as rough
As northern tempests, or the vexed bowels
Of too insulting waves, who at one blow
Five merchants' wealths into the deep doth thre
I'll threaten crimson wars.

Let them keep coin, pay tribute with their blood
Rog. Aye, aye, that's good;
Spain. Farewell then, Don Andrea; to thy charge
Lords, let us in; joy shall be now our guest:
Let's in to celebrate our second feast.

[Exeunt omnes, prater LORENZ
Lor. Andrea's gone embassador;
Lorenzo is not dreamt on in this age.
Hard fate,

When villains sit not in the highest state! Severe authority has dashed with justice; Ambition's plumes, that flourished in our court, Aud policy and pride walk like two exiles, Giving attendance, that were once attended; And we rejected, that were once high honoured.

If friendly phrases, bonied speech, bewitching ac-I hate Andrea; 'cause he aims at honour, when

cent,

Well-tuned melody, and all sweet gifts
Of nature, cannot avail or win him to it,
Then let him raise his gall up to his tongue,
And be as bitter as physicians' drugs,
Stretch his mouth wider with big swoln phrases.
Oh, here's a lad of mettle, stout Don Andrea,
Mettle to the crown,

Would shake the king's high court three handfuls

down.

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My purest thoughts work in a pitchy vale,
Which are as different as heaven and hell.
One peers for day, the other gapes for night.
That yawning beldam, with her jetty skin,
'Tis she I hug as mine effeminate bride,
For such complexions best appease my pride.
I have a lad in pickle of this stamp,
Whose famished jaws look like the chap of death;
A melancholy, discontented courtier,
Whose hands are washed in rape and murdere
Upon whose eye-brows hang damnation;

bold:

Him with a golden bait will I allure,
(For courtiers will do any thing for gold,)
To be Andrea's death at his return.
He loves my sister, that shall cost his life;
So she a husband, he shall lose a wife.

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Enter HORATIO at one door, ANDREA at
another.

Hor. Whither in such haste, my second self? And. I'faith, my dear bosom, to take solemn leave

Of a most weeping creature.

Hor. That's a woman.

Enter BELLIMPERIA,

And. That's Bellimperia.

Hor. See, see, she meets you here: And what is it to love, and be loved dear! Bel. I have heard of your honour, gentle breast, I do not like it now so well methinks.

And. What! not to have honour bestowed on me?

Bel. O, yes; but not a wandering honour, dear; I could afford well didst thou stay here. Could honour melt itself into thy veins, And thou the fountain, I could wish it so, If thou would'st remain here with me, and not go. And. 'Tis but to Portugal.

Hor. But to demand the tribute, lady.

Bel. Tribute! alas, that Spain cannot of peace Forbear a little coin, the Indies being so near. And yet this is not all: I know you are too hot, Too full of spleen for an embassador,

And will lean much to honour.

And. Push!

Bel. Nay, hear me, dear! I know you will be rough

And violent; and Portingal hath a tempestuous son, Stampt with the mark of fury, and you too.

And. Sweet Bellimperia!

Bel. You'll meet like thunder, each imperious Over other's spleen; you have both proud spirits, And both will strive to aspire.

When two vexed clouds justle, they strike out fire:
And you, I fear me, war, which peace forefend.
O dear Andrea, pray, let us have no wars!
First let them pay the soldiers that were maimed
In the last battle, ere more wretches fall,
Or walk on stilts to timeless funeral.

And. Respective dear! O, my life's happiness!
The joy of all my being! do not shape
Frightful conceit beyond the intent of act!
I know thy love is vigilant o'er my blood,
And fears ill fate which heaven hath yet withstood.
But be of comfort; sweet Horatio knows

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Bel. But will you, indeed, Andrea ? And. By this.

Bel. By this lip-blushing kiss.

Hor. O you swear sweetly.

Bel. I'll keep your oath for you till you return, Then I'll be sure you shall not be forsworn. Enter PEDRINGANO.

And. Ho, Pedringano!
Ped. Signioro.

And. Are all things aboard?
Ped. They are, my good lord.

And. Then, Bellimperia, I take leave; Horatio
Be, in my absence, my dear self, chaste self.-
What! playing the woman, Bellimperia?
Nay, then, you love me not; or, at the least,
You drown my honours in those flowing waters.
Believe it, Bellimperia, 'tis as common
To weep at parting, as to be a woman.
Love me more valiant; play not this moist prize;
Be woman in all parts save in thy eyes.
And so I leave thee.

Bel. Farewell, my lord:

Be mindful of my love, and of your word. And. 'Tis fixed upon my heart; adieu, soul's friend!

Hor. All honour on Andrea's steps attend. Bel. Yet he is in sight, and yet but now he's vanished. [Exit ANDREA. Hor. Nay, lady, if you stoop so much to passion, I'll call him back again.

Bel. O, good Horatio, no; it is for honour. Pr'ythee let him go.

Hor. Then, madam, be composed, as you were

wont,

To music and delight; the time being comic, will
Seem short and pleasant, till his return
From Portingal:

And, madam, in this circle let your heart move;
Honoured promotion is the sap of love.
[Exeunt.

Enter LORENZO and LAZAROTTO, a discontented Courtier.

Lor. Come, my soul's spaniel, my life's jetty substance, What's thy name?

Laz. My name's an honest name, a courtier's

name:

'Tis Lazarotto.

Lor. What, Lazarotto!

Laz. Or rather rotting in this lazy age

That yields me no employments: I have mischief

Within my breast, more than my 3 bulk can hold: I want a midwife to deliver it.

Lor. I'll be the he-one then, and rid thee soon

3 Bulk-One of the significations affixed to this word by Skinner, in his Etymologicon, is "Venter, hinc Hisp. Buche, Ventriculus animalis, Belg. Bulcke, Thorax."

So, in The Nice Valour, by Beaumont and Fletcher, Vol. X. p. 355, edition 1778:

"My maintenance, rascals! my bulk, my exhibition!"

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