Por. And is it thus? and doth he so prepare Against his brother as his mortal foe? And now, while yet his aged father lives, Neither regards he him, nor fears he me? War would he have? and he shall have it so. Tyn. I saw myself the great prepared store Of horse, of armour, and of weapons there. The rascal numbers of unskilful sort Are filled with monstrous tales of you and yours. In secret, I was counsell'd by my friends Letters from those that both can truly tell, Send to your brother, to demand the cause. ears With false reports against your noble grace; Which, once disclos'd, shall end the growing strife, That else, not stay'd with wise foresight in time, Shall hazard both your kingdoms and your lives. Send to your father eke, he shall appease Think ye it safety to return again? In mischiefs, such as Ferrex now intends, Might rid myself of foes, and win a realm? [Exeunt PORREX and TYNDAR. Phil. Lo, here the end of these two youthful kings! The father's death! the ruin of their realms! But I will to the king, their father, haste," ACT III.-SCENE I. GORBODUC; EUBULUS; AROSTUS. Gor. O cruel fates, O mindful wrath of gods, Whose vengeance neither Simois' stained streams Flowing with blood of Trojan princes slain, Nor Phrygian fields made rank with corpses dead Of Asian kings and lords, can yet appease; A letter is read from Eubulus making known the resolution taken by Ferrex, immediately after which Philander enters and announces that Porrex In haste prepareth to invade His brother's land, and with unkindly war After some tedious speechifying, a messenger enters and tells the king, Why should I live, and linger forth my time But whereunto waste I this ruthful speech, Shall I still think that from this womb thou sprung? That I thee bare? or take thee for my son? ACT IV.-SCENE II. GORBODUC; AROSTUS. Gor. We marvel much, whereto this ling'ring stay Falls out so long... Aros. Lo, where he comes, and Eubulus with him. Enter ErBULUS and PORREX. Eub. According to your highness's hest to me, Here have I Porrex brought, even in such sort As from his wearied horse he did alight, For that your grace did will such haste therein. Gor. We like and praise this speedy will in you, To work the thing that to your charge we gave. Porrex, if we so far should swerve from kind, And from those bounds which law of nature sets, As thou hast done by vile and wretched deed, In cruel murder of thy brother's life; Our present hand could stay no longer time, But straight should bathe this blade in blood of thee, As just revenge of thy detested crime. Even nature's force doth move us to revenge Porrex then, in a long speech, endeavours to exculpate himself by urging that what he had done was purely in self-defence. Gor. Oh cruel wight, should any cause prevail To make thee stain thy hands with brother's blood? But what of thee we will resolve to do What froward fate hath sorted us this chance, That even in those, where we should comfort find, Where our delight now in our aged days Have found ere this the price of mortal joys; 1 wroke-wreak'd, revenged. Than as the naked hand whose stroke essays Of patient spirit to others wrapp'd in woe, mean The sorry cheer of her that here doth come? Enter MARCELLA. Mar. Oh where is ruth? or where is pity now? Whither is gentle heart and mercy fled? Are they exil'd out of our stony breasts, Never to make return? is all the world Drowned in blood, and sunk in cruelty? If not in women mercy may be found, If not, alas, within the mother's breast, To her own child, to her own flesh and blood; If ruth be banish'd thence, if pity there May have no place, if there no gentle heart Do live and dwell, where should we seek it then? Gor. Madam, alas, what means your woful tale? 2 sorted-allotted. lvi ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF THE BRITISH DRAMA. Mar. O silly woman I! why to this hour Have kind and fortune thus deferr'd my breath, That I should live to see this doleful day? Will ever wight believe that such hard heart Could rest within the cruel mother's breast, With her own hand to slay her only son? But out, alas! these eyes beheld the same: They saw the dreary sight, and are become Most ruthful records of the bloody fact., Porrex, alas, is by his mother slain, And with her hand, a woful thing to tell, While slumbering on his careful bed he rests, His heart stabb'd in with knife is reft of life. Gor. O Eubulus, oh draw this sword of ours, And pierce this heart with speed! O hateful light, O loathsome life, O sweet and welcome death! With wound receiv'd, but not of certain death. [Exeunt GORBODUC and EUBULUS. Mar. Alas, he liveth not! it is too true, That with these eyes, of him a peerless prince, Son to a king, and in the flower of youth, Even with a twink a senseless stock I saw. Aros. Oh damned deed! Mar. But hear this ruthful end: When in the fall his eyes, e'en new unclos'd, And straight pale death pressing within his face, The flying ghost his mortal corpse forsook! Aros. Never did age bring forth so vile a fact. Mar. Oh hard and cruel hap, that thus assigned Unto so worthy a wight so wretched end; Aros. Madam, alas, in vain these plaints are shed; Rather with me depart, and help to swage Mar. What wight is that which saw that I did see, And could refrain to wail with plaint and tears? Not I, alas, that heart is not in me: Chorus. Oh happy wight, that suffers not the snare The fifth act concludes with the following couplet, Tennysonian in style and sentiment: JOHN LILLY. [JOHN LILLY OF LYLY, probably the earliest regular dramatist after Lord Buckhurst, was born in Kent about 1553. He became a student of Magdalen College, Oxford, in 1569; took his degree of Bachelor of Arts in 1573, and his Master's degree in 1575. According to Anthony á Wood, he appears not to have been a very hard student, but always averse to the crabbed studies of logic and philosophy.' There is extant among the Lansdowne manuscripts a letter, in very good Latin, dated 1574, written by Lilly to Lord Burghley, desiring his Lordship's patronage and assistance; with what result is not known. Burghley, however, seems afterwards to have conferred upon him some office connected with his own household. From two letters extant, written by Lilly to Queen Elizabeth, it is inferred that he was a candidate for the office of Master of the Revels, probably with no success. After leaving college, he appears to have spent most of his time in London, supporting himself by his pen. When he died is unknown, probably somewhere about the beginning of the seventeenth century. Mr. Fairholt, editor of Lilly's dramatic works, infers from certain allusions in a work of Nash's, that our author was a little man, was married, and fond of tobacco.' The works by which Lilly is now best known are his two prose works, entitled Euphues; or, the Anatomy of Wit, and Euphues and his England, which gave rise to the term and the affected style of writing known as Euphuism. However tedious and trifling these works may appear to modern readers, there can be no doubt that Lilly's contemporaries admired and imitated them to an incredible extent. Euphuism became the rage, even Shakspeare being smitten by the fever. Blount, the editor of an edition of his plays published in 1632, says 'that beauty in court which could not parley Euphuisme, was as little regarded as she which now there speaks not French;' and Anthony á Wood tells us that 'in these books of Euphues, 'tis said that our nation is indebted for a new English in them, which the flower of the youth thereof learned.' By most of his contemporaries he seems to have been held in great estimation. The chief characteristic of his style,' says Mr. Collier, besides its smoothness, is the employment of a species of fabulous or unnatural natural philosophy, in which the existence of certain animals, vegetables, and minerals with peculiar properties is presumed, in order to afford similes and illustrations.' As far as the dramatic style allows, Lilly's dramas are to a great extent disfigured by this painfully unnatural fine writing, although there is comparatively little of it in the work we have selected. Campaspe, or Alexander and Campaspe, as it is sometimes entitled, has some claim to be considered a historical play, in that the dramatis persona are mostly historical characters. The incident on which the play is founded is mentioned by Pliny; and the plot, though slight, is, on the whole, well wrought out by the author. Although the scene is laid in Athens, in the time of Alexander the Great, the persons of the drama are, in character and manners, Englishmen of Lilly's own time. It is one of the best and most interesting of the author's plays, some of the characters, such as Diogenes and his servant Manes, being drawn with considerable force and distinctness; and the wit is sometimes clever, amusing, and original. Hazlitt says of it: This play is a very pleasing transcript of old manners and sentiment. It is full of sweetness, and point, of Attic salt and the honey of Hymettus.' Although, when compared with many of his contemporaries, Lilly cannot be ranked very high as a dramatist, still he affords a not unpalatable foretaste of the rich feast of wit and wisdom which immediately followed. As we learn from the pro logues and epilogues, this play was written in haste, for representation at court, after which it made its appearance at Blackfriars theatre. Besides Campaspe, first printed in 1584, Lilly wrote the following dramas :-Sapho and Phaq (1584); Endymion (1591); Galathea (1592); Midas (1592); Mother Bombie (1594); The Maid's Metamorphosis (1600); Love's Metamorphosis (1601). It is doubtful whether Lilly was the author of the last two.] CAMPASPE: PLAYED BEFORE THE QUEEN'S MAJESTY ON NEW YEAR'S DAY, AT NIGHT, BY HER MAJESTY'S CHILDREN, AND THE CHILDREN OF ST. PAUL'S. Imprinted at London for Thomas Cadman, 1584. THE PROLOGUE AT THE BLACK FRIARS. THEY that fear the stinging of wasps make fans of peacocks' tails, whose spots are like eyes; and Lepidus, which could not sleep for the chattering of birds, set up a beast, whose head was like a dragon; and we, which stand in awe of report, are compelled to set before our owl Pallas's shield, thinking by her virtue to cover the other's deformity. It was a sign of famine to Egypt when Nylus flowed less than twelve cubits, or more than eighteen; and it may threaten despair unto us, if we be less courteous than you look for, or more cumbersome. But as Theseus, being promised to be brought to an eagle's nest, and travelling all the day, found but a wren in a hedge, yet said, This is a bird; so we hope, if the shower of our swelling mountain seem to bring forth some elephant, perform but a mouse, you will gently say, This is a beast! Basil softly touched yieldeth a sweet scent, but chafed in the hand, a rank savour. We fear, even so, that our labours, slily' glanced on, will breed some content, but examined to the proof, small commendation. The haste in performing shall be our excuse. There went two nights to the begetting of Hercules. Feathers appear not on the Phoenix under seven months, and the mulberry is twelve in budding; but our travails are like the hare's, who at one time bringeth forth, nourisheth, and engendereth again; or like the brood of Trochilus, whose eggs in the same moment that they are laid become birds. But howsoever we finish our work, we crave pardon if we offend in matter, and patience if we transgress in manners. We have mixed mirth with counsel, and discipline with 1 Slily glanced on-read superficially. 2 It was, as we have said, written in haste for performance at court. But we delight, thinking it not amiss in the same garden to sow pot-herbs that we set flowers. hope, as harts that cast their horns, snakes their skins, eagles their bills, become more fresh for any other labour; so our charge being shaken off, we shall be fit for greater matters. But lest, like the Myndians, we make our gates greater than our towns, and that our play runs out at the preface, we here conclude, wishing that although there be in your precise judgments an universal mislike, yet we may enjoy by your wonted courtesies a general silence. THE PROLOGUE AT THE COURT. WE are ashamed that our bird, which fluttereth by twilight, seeming a swan, should be proved a bat set against the sun. But as Jupiter placed Silenus's ass among the stars, and Alcibiades covered his pictures, being owls and apes, with a curtain embroidered with lions and eagles, so are we enforced upon a rough discourse to draw on a smooth excuse, resembling lapidaries, who think to hide the crack in a stone by setting it deep in gold. The gods supped once with poor Baucis, the Persian kings sometimes shaved sticks: our hope is your Highness will at this time lend an ear to an idle pastime. Appion, raising Homer from hell, demanded only who was his father; and we, calling Alexander from his grave, seek only who was his love. Whatsoever we present, we wish it may be thought the dancing of Agrippa his shadows, who, in the moment they were seen, were of any shape one would conceive; or Lynces, who having a quick sight to discern, have a short memory to forget. With us it is like to fare as with these torches which, giving light to others, consume themselves; and we, showing delight to others, shame ourselves. |