GEORGE PEELE. [GEORGE PEELE, a gentleman by birth, was born in Devonshire about 1558. He was educated at Oxford, having been a member of Broadgate's Hall (now Pembroke College), probably taking his degree of Master of Arts in 1579. We are informed by Anthony á Wood that Peele 'was esteemed a most noted poet in the University;' and Mr. Dyce thinks it probable that the Tale of Troy, which he published in 1589, and which he calls 'an old poem of mine own,' was written during his academic course. He repaired to London about 1580; there he no doubt passed most of the remainder of his life, figuring as one of the 'authors by profession,' who formed so numerous a body during the reign of Elizabeth. He was on terms of intimacy with most of his contemporary brother-dramatists, and shared but too freely in the wild Bohemianism which characterized most of their lives. 'Among the town wits of those days,' says Mr. Dyce, 'habits of debauchery were but too prevalent. Not a few of them hung loose upon society, now struggling with poverty, and "driven to extreme shifts," and now, when successful plays or poems had put money in their purses, revelling in the pleasures of taverns and ordinaries, some of them terminating a career of folly by a miserable and untimely death. Peele, there is every reason to believe, mingled as eagerly as any of his contemporaries in the dissipations of London.' Peele must have been one of the most thriftless and dissipated of this mad crew; and if we may believe the tract entitled Merrie Conceited Jests of George Peele, he frequently resorted to the lowest and most rascally shifts to relieve his wretched poverty, and supply him with the means of dissipation. Mr. Dyce professes to believe that these stories are most of them fictitious, although he does not doubt the authenticity of some of them. But, making every allowance, we are afraid that he must be regarded as having been almost entirely destitute of honour, and even of common honesty. He appears for a time to have held the post of city poet, and devised several of the pageants which graced the inauguration of a new Lord. Mayor. The date of Peele's death is not known. 'This person,' says Anthony á Wood, 'was living, in his middle age, in the latter end of Queen Elizabeth; but when or where he died I cannot tell.' He certainly died previous to 1598; for, in a book published in that year, we are told that his death was the result of disease caught by licentious indulgence. Perhaps, with the exception of Greene, Peele's life and death were more miserable, and his character certainly more contemptible, than those of any of the brilliant Bohemians with whom he mingled. Of Peele's dramatic works, Dyce thinks that not half has survived the ravages of time. The following are his dramas still extant: - The Arraignment of Paris : a Pastoral (printed 1584); The Famous Chronicle History of King Edward the First (1593), one of our most ancient 'Chronicle Histories,' and deserving attention, Mr. Collier thinks, more on this account than because it possesses much merit as a theatrical production; The Battle of Alcazar (1594), with much probability, ascribed to Peele; Old Wives' Tale (1595); this is chiefly remarkable as containing the same story as that upon which Milton founded his mask of Comus. Warton has attempted to show that Milton derived the narrative and idea of his poem from Peele; but, as Mr. Collier says, it yet remains to be seen whether they do not each make use of the same original narrative. David and Bethsabe was first printed in 1599, but how much earlier it was written there is no means of ascertaining. Besides these dramas, Peele wrote several poems and pageants. Collier's estimate of Peele as a dramatist appears to us to be just. 'When Thomas Nash, in 1587, gave Peele the praise of being primus verborum artifier, he adopted a phrase which seems happily to describe the character of Peele's poetry: his genius was not bold and original, and he was wanting in the higher qualities of invention; but he had an elegance of fancy, a gracefulness of expression, and a melody of versification which, in the earlier part of his career, was scarcely approached.' The play, David and Bethsabe, which we have selected as a specimen, is universally admitted to be his best. It is founded on a well-known incident in the life of King David, and is chiefly characterized by the smoothness of its language, occasional pathos and vigour of expression, and richness of imagery. There is not much of a plot, little art is displayed in the conduct of the story, and none of the characters can be said to be distinctly marked; still, on the whole, it is pleasant and readable.] THE LOVE OF KING DAVID AND FAIR BETHSABE, AS IT HATH BEEN DIVERS TIMES PLAYED ON THE STAGE. London: Printed by Adam Islip, 1599. He gave alarm to the host of heaven, Their crystal armour at his conquering feet. 1 The Prologue-speaker, before going out, draws a curtain and discovers BETHSABE, with her Maid, bathing over a spring. She sings, and DAVID sits above viewing her. THE SONG. Hor sun, cool fire, temper'd with sweet air, Black shade, fair nurse, shadow my white hair: Shine, sun; burn, fire; breathe, air, and ease me; Black shade, fair nurse, shroud me, and please me: Shadow, my sweet nurse, keep me from burning; Make not my glad cause cause of [my] mourning. Let not my beauty's fire Inflame unstaid desire, Nor pierce any bright eye That wandereth lightly. Dav. Go know, and bring her quickly to the king; Tell her, her graces have found grace with him. Cu. I will, my lord. [Exit. Dav. Bright Bethsabe shall wash in David's bower, In water mix'd with purest almond-flower, And bathe her beauty in the milk of kids. Bright Bethsabe gives earth to my desires, Verdure to earth, and to that verdure flowers; To flowers sweet odours, and to odours wings, That carry pleasures to the hearts of kings. Enter CUSAY, below, to BETHSABF, she starting as something affright. Cu. Fair Bethsabe, the king of Israel Beth. Come, gentle zephyr, trick'd with those From forth his princely tower hath seen thee perfumes That erst in Eden sweeten'd Adam's love, And stroke my bosom with thy silken fan. This shade, sun-proof, is yet no proof for thee; Thy body, smoother than this waveless spring, And purer than the substance of the same, My soul, incensèd with a sudden fire? dise, Enjoys the beauty of so fair a dame? thoughts Than this fair woman's words and notes to mine. May that sweet plain, that bears her pleasant weight, Be still enamell'd with discolour'd2 flowers; The brims let be embraced with golden curls That hangs, like chains of pearl, on Hermon hill, Or balm which trickled from old Aaron's beard.Cusay, come up, and serve thy lord the king. Enter CUSAY, above. Cu. What service doth my lord the king command? Dav. See, Cusay, see the flower of Israel, The fairest daughter that obeys the king In all the land the Lord subdued to me; Fairer than Isaac's lover at the well, Brighter than inside-bark of new-hewn cedar, Sweeter than flames of fine-perfumèd myrrh, And comelier than the silver clouds that dance On zephyr's wings before the King of Heaven! Cu. Is it not Bethsabe the Hethite's wife, Urias, now at Rabbah siege with Joab? bathe, And thy sweet graces have found grace with him. Come, then, and kneel unto him where he stands; The king is gracious, and hath liberal hands. Beth. Ah! what is Bethsabe to please the king? Or what is David, that he should desire, For fickle beauty's sake, his servant's wife? Cu. David, thou know'st, fair dame, is wise and just, Elected to the heart of Israel's God; Beth. My lord the king, elect to God's own heart, Should not his gracious jealousy incense? Whose truth maintains the crown of Israel, [Exit, below, with BETHSABE. Dav. Now comes my lover tripping like the 1 incensed-inflamed. 2 discoloured-variously coloured. 1 i.e. somewhat affrighted.' 2 incense-kindle. Bethsabe no doubt here refers to her husband. 3 joy-enjoy. 4 Joys. Dyce thinks the sense seems to require 'charms.' 5 erst-first or formerly. 6 and all mine eyes. bably dropt out here. Mr. Dyce thinks a line has pro Beth. Too near, my lord, was your unarmed heart, When furthest off my hapless beauty pierced; And would this dreary day had turn'd to night, Or that some pitchy cloud had cloak'd the sun, Before their lights had caus'd my lord to see His name disparag'd and my chastity! Dav. My love, if want of love have left thy soul A sharper sense of honour than thy king (For love leads princes sometimes from their seats), As erst my heart was hurt, displeasing thee, But rather make both rankle at the bone; [Exeunt. winds. Abis. Before this city Rabbah we will lie, And shoot forth shafts as thick and dangerous As was the hail that Moses mix'd with fire, And threw with fury round about the fields, Devouring Pharaoh's friends and Egypt's fruits. Ur. First, mighty captains, Joab and Abisai, Let us assault and scale this kingly tower, Where all their conduits and their fountains are; Then we may easily take the city too. Joab. Well hath Urias counsell'd our attempts; And as he spake us, so assault the tower: Let Hanon now, the king of Ammon's son, Repulse our conquering passage if he dare. Enter HANON, MACHAAS, and others, upon the walls. Ha. What would the shepherd's-dogs of Israel Snatch from the mighty issue of King Ammon, The valiant Ammonites and haughty Syrians? 'Tis not your late successive victories Can make us yield, or quail our courages; But if ye dare assay to scale this tower, Our angry swords shall smite ye to the ground, And venge our losses on your hateful lives. Joab. Hanon, thy father Nahas gave relief To holy David in his hapless exile, 1 venge-revenge. Enter CUSAY, below. Cu. Where is Lord Joab, leader of the host? Joab. Here is Lord Joab, leader of the host. Cusay, come up, for we have won the hold.3 Cu. In happy hour, then, is Cusay come. CUSAY goes up. Joab. What news, then, brings Lord Cusay from the king? Cu. His Majesty commands thee out of hand To send him home Urias from the wars, For matter of some service he should do. Ur. 'Tis for no choler hath surprised the king, I hope, Lord Cusay, 'gainst his servant's truth? Cu. No; rather to prefer Urias' truth. Joab. Here, take him with thee, then, and go in peace; And tell my lord the king that I have fought Cu. We will, Lord Joab; and great Israel's Bless in thy hands the battles of our king! Urias will haste him and his own return. [Exeunt CUSAY and URIAS. Abis. Let us descend, and ope the palace gate, Taking our soldiers in to keep the hold. Joab. Let us, Abisai:-and, ye sons of Judah, Be valiant, and maintain your victory. [Exeunt. Hath Amnon forced thee? by David's hand, This fact hath Jacob's ruler seen from heaven, And God in time shall take this shame from thee. Tha. Nor God nor time will do that good for [Exit. me. Enter DAVID with his train. Dav. My Absalon, what mak'st thou here alone, And bear'st such discontentment in thy brows? Abs. Great cause hath Absalon to be displeas'd, And in his heart to shroud the wounds of wrath. Dav. 'Gainst whom should Absalon be thus displeas'd? Abs. Gainst wicked Amnon, thy ungracious son, My brother and fair Thamar's by the king, And fix'd a blot of lightness on his throne. Dav. Hath Amnon brought this evil on my house, And suffer'd sin to smite his father's bones? Kind-nature. And scourge his bondslaves from my hallow'd court With rods of iron and thorns of sharpen'd steel. Then, Absalon, revenge not thou this sin; Leave it to me, and I will chasten him. Abs. I am content: then grant, my lord the king, Himself with all his other lords would come Dav. Nay, my fair son, myself with all my lords Will bring thee too much charge; yet some shall go. Abs. But let my lord the king himself take pains; The time of year is pleasant for your grace, Abs. Yet do thy son and servant so much grace. Dav. Amnon shall go, and all my other lords, Because I will give grace to Absalon. Enter CUSAY and URIAS, with others. Cu. Pleaseth my lord the king, his servant Joab Hath sent Urias from the Syrian wars. Dav. Welcome, Urias, from the Syrian wars, Welcome to David as his dearest lord. Ur. Thanks be to Israel's God and David's grace, Urias finds such greeting with the king. Ur. Thy servant Joab fights the chosen wars Dav. This hath not God and Joab's prowess done Without Urias' valour, I am sure, Hath fought like one whose arms were lift by heaven, And whose bright sword was edg'd with Israel's wrath. Go therefore home, Urias, take thy rest; Ur. Thy servant's bones are yet not half so craz'd, Nor constitute on such a sickly mould, 1 achiev'd-won, or reached. |