The Shepherd and his Wife.

It was near a thicky shade,
That broad leaves of beech had made,
Joining all their tops so nigh,
That scarce Phoebus in could pry;
Where sat the swain and his wife,
Sporting in that pleasing life,
That Corydon commendeth so,
All other lives to over-go.
He and she did sit and keep
Flocks of kids and flocks of sheep:
He upon his pipe did play,

She tuned voice unto his lay.

And, or you might her housewife know,
Voice did sing and fingers sew.

He was young, his coat was green,
With welts of white seamed between.
Turned over with a flap,

That breast and bosom in did wrap,
Skirts side and plighted free,
Seemly hanging to his knee,
A whittle with a silver chape;
Cloak was russet, and the cape
Served for a bonnet oft,

To shroud him from the wet aloft:
A leather scrip of colour red,
With a button on the head;
A bottle full of country whig,
By the shepherd's side did lig;
And in a little bush hard by,
There the shepherd's dog did lie,
Who, while his master 'gan to sleep,
Well could watch both kids and sheep.
The shepherd was a frolic swain,

For though his 'parel was but plain,
Yet do the authors soothly say,
His colour was both fresh and gay;
And in their writs plain discuss,
Fairer was not Tityrus,

Nor Menalcas, whom they call
The aldericefest (1) swain of all!
Seeming him was his wife,
Both in line and in life.
Fair she was, as fair might be,
Like the roses of the tree;
Beauteous, like a summer's queen;
Buxom, blithe, and young, I ween,
For her cheeks were ruddy hued,
As if lilies were imbrued

With drops of blood to make the white,
Please the eye with more delight.
Love did lie within her eyes,

In ambush for some wanton prize;
A leefer lass than this had been,
Corydon had never seen.

Nor was Phillis, that fair May,
Half so gaudy or so gay.

She wore a chaplet on her head;
Her cassock was of scarlet red,
Long and large as straight as bent;
Her middle was both small and gent.
A neck as white as whales' bone,
Compast with a lace of stone;
Fine she was, and fair she was,
Brighter than the brightest glass;
Such a shepherd's wife as shie
Was not more in Thessaly.

Philador, seeing this couple sitting thus lovingly, noted the concord of country amity, and began to conjecture with himself, what a sweet kind of life those men use, who were by their birth too low for dignity, and by their fortunes too simple for envy; well, he thought to fall in prattle with them, had not the shepherd taken his pipe in hand, and begun to play, and bis wife to sing out, this roundelay:

Ah! what is love? It is a pretty thing,
As-sweet unto a shepherd as a king,

And sweeter too:

For kings have cares that wait upon a crown:
And cares can make the sweetest cares to frown:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires gain,

What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

His flocks are folded; he comes home at night
As merry as a king in his delight,

And merrier too:

For kings bethink them what the state require,
Where shepherds, careless, carol by the fire:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain ?

1 Alder, of all; alderleefest, or alderlevest, dearest of all.

He kisseth first, then sits as blithe to eat
His cream and curd, as doth the king his meat.
And blither too :

For kings have often fears when they sup,
Where shepherds dread no poison in their cup:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

Upon his couch of straw he sleeps as sound
As doth the king upon his beds of down,
More sounder tco:

For cares cause kings full oft their sleep to spill,
Where weary shepherds lie and snort their fill:
Ah then, ah then,

If country loves such sweet desires gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?

Thus with his wife he spends the year as blithe
As doth the king at every tide or syth, (1)

And blither too :

for kings have wars and broils to take in hand;
When shepherds laugh, and love upon the land:
Ah then, ah then,

If country ves such sweet desires gain,
What lady would ot love a shepherd swain ?

THOMAS LODGE.

·

THOMAS LODGE is usually classed among the precursors of Shakspeare; he was a poor dramatist. He wrote one tragedy, The Wounds of Civil War, lively set forth in the True Tragedies of Marius and Sylla,' 1591. This is in blank verse, but without modulation, and the play is heavy and uninteresting. The 'mystery-play,'

A Looking-glass for London and England,' written by Lodge and Greene, is directed to the defence of the stage. It applies the scriptural story of Nineveh to the City of London, and amidst drunken buffoonery and clownish mirth, contains some powerful satirical writing.

CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE.

The greatest of Shakspeare's precursors in the drama was CRISTOPHER MARLOWE-a fiery imaginative spirit, who first imparted consistent character and energy to the stage, in connection with a high. sounding and varied blank verse. Marlowe was born at Canterbury, and baptised on the 26th of February 1563-4. He was the son of a shoemaker, but through the aid of some local patron-supposed to be Sir Roger Manwood, chief baron of the Exchequer, on whom he wrote a Latin epitaph-he was admitted into the King's School of Canterbury, founded for the education of fifty scholars, who received each a stipend of £4 per annum, and retained their scholarships for five years. From this institution Marlowe was enabled to proceed, in 1581, to Bennet College, Cambridge, where he took the degree of B A. in 1583, and that of M.A. in 1587. Previous to this, he is sup

1 Syth, or sithe, Sax. time.

posed to have written his tragedy of 'Tamburlaine the Great,' which was successfully brought out on the stage, and long continued a favourite. Shakespeare makes ancient Pistol quote, in ridicule, part of this play:

Holla, ye pampered jades of Asia, &c.

But, amidst the rant and fustian of Tamburlaine,' there are passages of great beauty and wild grandeur, and the versification justifies the compliment afterwards paid by Ben Jonson, in the words, 'Marlowe's mighty line.' His lofty blank verse is one of his most characteristic features. His second play, the 'Life and Death of Dr. Faustus,' exhibits a far wider range of dramatic power than his first tragedy. The hero studies necromancy, and makes a solemn disposal of his soul to Lucifer, on condition of having a familiar spirit at his command, and unlimited enjoyment for twenty-four years; during which period Faustus visits different countries, calls up spirits from the vasty deep,' and revels in luxury and splendour. At length the time expires, the bond becomes due, and a party of evil spirits enter, amidst thunder and lightning, to claim his forfeited life and person. Such a plot afforded scope for deep passion and variety of adventure, and Marlowe has constructed from it a powerful though irregular play. Scenes and passages of terrific grandeur and the most thrilling agony, are intermixed with low humour and preternatural machinery, often ludicrous and grotesque. The ambition of Faustus is a sensual, not a lofty ambition. A feeling of curiosity and wonder is excited by his necromancy and his strange compact with Lucifer; but we do not fairly sympathise with him till all his disguises are stripped off, and his meretricious splendour is succeeded by horror and despair. Then, when he stands on the brink of everlasting ruin, waiting for the fatal moment, imploring, yet distrusting repentance, a scene of enchaining interest, fervid passion, and overwhelming pathos, carries captive the sternest heart, and proclaims the full triumph of the tragic poet.

Scenes from Marlowe's Faustus.

FAUSTUS-WAGNER, his Servant.

FAUSTUS. Say, Wagner, thou hast perused my will.

How dost thou like it?

WAGNER. Sir, so wondrous well,

As in all humble duty I do yield

My life and lasting service for your love.

Three Scholars Enter.

FAUST. Gramercy, Wagner.

Welcome, gentlemen.

FIRST SCHOLAR. Now, worthy Faustus, methinks your looks are changed.
FAUST. O gentlemen.

SECOND SCHOLAR. What ails Faustus?

[Exit.

FAUST. Ah, my sweet chamber-fellow, had I lived with thee, then had I lived still, but now must die eternally. Look, sirs, comes he not? comes he not?.

FIRST SCH. O my dear Faustus, what imports this fear?

SEC. SCH. Is all our pleasure turned to melancholy?

THIRD SCHOLAR. He is not well with being over-solitary.

SEC. SCH. If it be so, we will have physicians, and Faustus shall be cured.
FIRST SCH. "Tis but a surfeit, sir; fear nothing.

FAUST. A surfeit of a deadly sin, that hath damned both body and soul. SEC. SCH. Yet, Faustus, look up to heaven, and remember mercy is infinite. FAUST. But Faustus's offence can ne'er be pardoned. The serpent that tempted Eve may be saved, but not Faustus. O gentlemen, hear me with patience, and tremble not at my speeches. Though my heart pant and quiver to remember that I have been a student here these thirty years, oh, would I had ne'er seen Wirtemberg, never read book! and what wonders have I done, all Germany can witness, yea, all the world: for which Faustus hath lost both Germany and the world; yea, heaven itself-heaven the seat of God, the throne of the blessed, the kingdom of joy-and must remain in hell for ever. Hell, O hell, for ever. Sweet friends, what shall become of Faustus being in hell for ever?

SEC. SCH. Yet, Faustus, call on God.

FAUST. On God, whom Faustus hath abjured? on God, whom Faustus hath blasphemed? O my God, I would weep, but the devil draws in my tears. Gush forth blood instead of tears, yea, life and soul! Oh, he stays my tongue: I would lift up my hands, but see, they hold 'em, they hold 'em!

SCHOLARS. Who, Faustus?

FAUST. Why, Lucifer and Mephistophilis. O gentlemen, I gave them my soul for my cunning.

SCHOLARS. O God forbid!

FAUST. God forbid it indeed, but Faustus hath done it; for the vain pleasure of four-and-twenty years hath Faustus lost eternal joy and felicity. I writ them a bill with mine own blood; the date is expired: this is the time, and he will fetch me.

FIRST SCH. Why did not Faustus tell of this before, that divines might have prayed for thee?

FAUST. Oft have I thought to have done so; but the devil threatened to tear me in pieces if I named God; to fetch me body and soul if I once gave ear to divinity; and now it is too late. Gentlemen, away, lest you perish with me.

SEC. SCH. Oh, what may we do to save Faustus!

FAUST. Talk not of me, but save yourselves, and depart.
THIRD SCH. God will strengthen me; I will stay with Faustus.

FIRST SCH. Tempt not God, sweet friend, but let us into the next room and pray for him.

FAUST. Ay, pray for me, pray for me; and what noise soever you hear, come not unto me, for nothing can rescue me.

SEC. SCH. Pray thou, and we will pray, that God may have mercy upon thee. FAUST. Gentlemen, farewell; if I live till morning, I'll visit you; if not, Faustus is gone to hell.

SCHOLARS. Faustus, farewell.

FAUSTUS, alone.-The Clock strikes Eleven.

FAUST. O Faustus,

Now hast thou but one bare hour to ive,
And then thou must be damned perpetually,
Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven,
That time may cease and midnight never come. »
Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and make
Perpetual day! or let this hour be but

A year, a month, a week, a natural day,
That Faustus may repent and save his soul.

O lente lente currite, noctis equi.

The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike,
The devil will come, and Faustus must be damned.
Oh, I will leap to heaven: who pulls me down ?
See where Christ's blood streams in the firmament:
One drop of blood will save me: Oh, my Christ,

Rend not my heart for naming of my Christ.
Yet will I call on him: O spare me, Lucifer.
Where is it now? 'tis gone!

And see a threatening arm and angry brow,
Mountains and hills, come, come, and fall on me.
And hide me from the heavy wrath of heaven.
No? then I will headlong run into the earth:
Gape earth! O no, it will not harbour me.
You stars that reigned at my nativity,
Whose influence have allotted death and hell,
Now draw up Faustus like a foggy mist
Into the entralls of yon labouring cloud;
That when you vomit forth into the air,
My limbs may issue from your smoky mouths,
But let my soul mount and ascend to heaven.

The Watch strikes.

Oh, half the hour is past: 'twill all be past anon.
Oh, if my soul must suffer for my sin,
Impose some end to my incessant pain,
Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years,

A hundred thousand, and at the last be saved;
No end is limited to damned souls

Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul?
Or why is this immortal that thou hast ?

Oh, Pythagoras' metempsychosis, were that true,
This soul should fly from me, and I be changed
Into some brutish beast.

All beasts are happy, for when they die,
Their souls are soon dissolved in elements;
But mine must live still to be plagued in hell.
Cursed be the parents that engendered me!
No, Faustus, curse thyself, curse Lucifer,
That hath deprived thee of the joys of heaven.
The Clock strikes Twelve.

It strikes, it strikes; now, body, turn to air,
Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell.

Thunder, and enter the Devils.;

O soul, be changed into small water-drops,
And fall into the ocean: ne'er be found.
O mercy, Heaven, look not so fierce on me.
Adders and serpents, let me breathe a while:
Ugly hell, gape not; come not. Lucifer:

I'll burn my books: O Mephistophilis !

Enter Scholars.

FIRST SCH. Come, gentlemen, let us go visit Faustus,

For such a dreadful night was never seen

Since first the world's creation did begin;

Such fearful shrieks and cries were never heard;

Pray Heaven the Doctor have escaped the danger.

SEC. SCH. O help us, heavens! see, here are Faustus' limbs,

All torn asunder by the hand of death.

[Exeunt.

THIRD SCH. The devil whom Faustus served hath torn him thus:

For 'twixt the hours of twelve and one, inethought

I heard him shriek and call aloud for help;

At which same time the house seemed all on fire

With dreadful horror of these damned fiends.