W. CAREW HAZLITT.

“The flower of our realm And Phœnix of our age,”

“Thy tender Tunes and Rimes Wherein thou woont’st to play, Eche princely Dame of Court and Towne, Shall beare in minde alway. Thy Damon and his Friend, Arcyte and Palemon, With moe full fit for princes’ eares, Though thou from earth art gone, Shall still remain in fame,” &c.

On every side, whereas I glance my roving eye, Silence in all ears bent I plainly do espy: But if your eager looks do long such toys to see, As heretofore in comical wise were wont abroad to be, Your lust is lost, and all the pleasures that you sought, Is frustrate quite of toying plays. A sudden change is wrought: For lo, our author’s muse, that masked in delight, Hath forc’d his pen against his kind[12] no more such sports to write. Muse he that lust (right worshipful), for chance hath made this change, For that to some he seemed too much in young desires to range: In which, right glad to please, seeing that he did offend, Of all he humbly pardon craves: his pen that shall amend. And yet (worshipful audience) thus much I dare avouch, In comedies the greatest skill is this, rightly to touch All things to the quick; and eke to frame each person so, That by his common talk you may his nature rightly know: A roister ought not preach, that were too strange to hear, But as from virtue he doth swerve, so ought his words appear: The old man is sober, the young man rash, the lover triumphing in joys. The matron grave, the harlot wild, and full of wanton toys. Which all in one course they no wise do agree; So correspondent to their kind their speeches ought to be. Which speeches well-pronounc’d, with action lively framed, If this offend the lookers on, let Horace then be blamed, Which hath our author taught at school, from whom he doth not swerve, In all such kind of exercise decorum to observe. Thus much for his defence (he saith), as poets earst have done, Which heretofore in comedies the self-same race did run. But now for to be brief, the matter to express, Which here we shall present, is this: Damon and Pithias. A rare ensample of friendship true, it is no legend-lie, But a thing once done indeed, as histories do descry, Which done of yore in long time past, yet present shall be here. Even as it were in doing now, so lively it shall appear. Lo, here in Syracuse th’ ancient town, which once the Romans won, Here Dionysius palace, within whose court this thing most strange was done. Which matter mix’d with mirth and care, a just name to apply, As seems most fit, we have it termed a tragical comedy. Wherein talking of courtly toys, we do protest this flat, We talk of Dionysius court, we mean no court but that: And that we do so mean, who wisely calleth to mind The time, the place, the author,[13] here most plainly shall it find. Lo, this I speak[14] for our defence, lest of others we should be shent: But, worthy audience, we you pray, take things as they be meant; Whose upright judgment we do crave with heedful ear and eye To hear the cause and see th’ effect of this new tragical comedy. [Exit.

Aristippus. Tho’ strange (perhaps) it seems to some, That I, Aristippus, a courtier am become: A philosopher of late, not of the meanest name, But now to the courtly behaviour my life I frame. Muse he that list, to you of good skill, I say that I am a philosopher still. Loving of wisdom is termed philosophy,[16] Then who is a philosopher so rightly as I? For in loving of wisdom proof doth this try, That frustra sapit, qui non sapit sibi. I am wise for myself: then tell me of troth, Is not that great wisdom, as the world go’th? Some philosophers in the street go ragged and torn, And feed on vile roots, whom boys laugh to scorn: But I in fine silks haunt Dionysius’ palace, Wherein with dainty fare myself I do solace. I can talk of philosophy as well as the best, But the strait kind of life I leave to the rest. And I profess now the courtly philosophy, To crouch, to speak fair, myself I apply, To feed the king’s humour with pleasant devices, For which I am called Regius canis. But wot ye who named me first the king’s dog? It was the rogue Diogenes, that vile grunting hog. Let him roll in his tub, to win a vain praise: In the court pleasantly I will spend all my days; Wherein what to do I am not to learn, What will serve mine own turn, I can quickly discern. All my time at school I have not spent vainly, I can help one: is not that a good point of philosophy?

Carisophus. I beshrew your fine ears, since you came from school, In the court you have made many a wise man a fool: And though you paint out your feigned philosophy, So God help me, it is but a plain kind of flattery, Which you use so finely in so pleasant a sort, That none but Aristippus now makes the king sport. Ere you came hither, poor I was somebody; The king delighted in me, now I am but a noddy. Aristippus. In faith, Carisophus, you know yourself best, But I will not call you noddy, but only in jest, And thus I assure you, though I came from school To serve in this court, I came not yet to be the king’s fool; Or to fill his ears with servile squirrility.[17] That office is yours, you know it right perfectly. Of parasites and sycophants you are a grave[18] bencher, The king feeds you often from his own trencher, I envy not your state, nor yet your great favour, Then grudge not at all, if in my behaviour I make the king merry with pleasant urbanity, Whom I never abused to any man’s injury. Carisophus. By Cock, sir, yet in the court you do[19] best thrive, For you get more in one day than I do in five. Aristippus. Why, man, in the court do you not see Rewards given for virtue to every degree? To reward the unworthy—that world is done: The court is changed, a good thread hath been spun Of dog’s wool heretofore, and why because it was liked, And not for that it was best trimmed and picked: But now men’s ears are finer, such gross toys are not set by, Therefore to a trimmer kind of mirth myself I apply: Wherein though I please, it cometh not of my desert, But of the king’s favour. Carisophus. It may so be; yet in your prosperity Despise not an old courtier: Carisophus is he, Which hath long time fed Dionysius’ humour: Diligently to please still at hand: there was never rumour Spread in this[20] town of any small thing, but I Brought it to the king in post by and by. Yet now I crave your friendship, which if I may attain, Most sure and unfeigned friendship I promise you again: So we two link’d in friendship, brother and brother, Full well in the court may help one another. Aristippus. By’r Lady, Carisophus, though you know not philosophy, Yet surely you are a better courtier than I: And yet I not so evil a courtier, that will seem to despise Such an old courtier as you, so expert and so wise. But where as you crave mine, and offer your friendship so willingly, With heart I give you thanks for this your great courtesy: Assuring of friendship both with tooth and nail, Whiles life lasteth, never to fail. Carisophus. A thousand thanks I give you, O friend Aristippus. Aristippus. O friend Carisophus. Carisophus. How joyful am I, sith I have to friend Aristippus now? Aristippus. None so glad of Carisophus’ friendship as I, I make God a vow, I speak as I think, believe me. Carisophus. Sith we are now so friendly joined, it seemeth to me, That one of us help each other in every degree: Prefer you my cause, when you are in presence, To further your matters to the king let me alone in your absence. Aristippus. Friend Carisophus, this shall be done as you would wish: But I pray you tell me thus much by the way, Whither now from this place will you take your journey? Carisophus. I will not dissemble, that were against friendship, I go into the city some knaves to nip For talk, with their goods to increase the king’s treasure, In such kind of service I set my chief pleasure: Farewell, friend[21] Aristippus, now for a time. [Exit. Aristippus. Adieu, friend Carisophus—In good faith now, Of force I must laugh at this solemn vow. Is Aristippus link’d in friendship with Carisophus? Quid cum tanto asino talis philosophus? They say, Morum similitudo consuit[22] amicitias; Then how can this friendship between us two come to pass? We are as like in condition as Jack Fletcher and his bolt;[23] I brought up in learning, but he is a very dolt As touching good letters; but otherwise such a crafty knave, If you seek a whole region, his like you cannot have: A villain for his life, a varlet dyed in grain, You lose money by him, if you sell him for one knave,[24] for he serves for twain: A flattering parasite, a sycophant also, A common accuser of men, to the good an open foe. Of half a word he can make a legend of lies, Which he will avouch with such tragical cries, As though all were true that comes out of his mouth. Whereas indeed, to be hanged by and by,[25] He cannot tell one tale, but twice he must lie. He spareth no man’s life to get the king’s favour, In which kind of service he hath got such a savour,[26] That he will never leave. Methink then that I Have done very wisely to join in friendship with him, lest perhaps I Coming in his way might be nipp’d; for such knaves in presence We see oft times put honest men to silence: Yet I have played with his beard in knitting this knot, I promis’d friendship; but, you love few words—I spake it, but I meant it not.[27] Who marks this friendship between us two Shall judge of the worldly friendship without any more ado. It may be a right pattern[28] thereof; but true friendship indeed Of nought but of virtue doth truly proceed. But why do I now enter into philosophy, Which do profess the fine kind of courtesy? I will hence to the court with all haste I may; I think the king be stirring, it is now bright day. To wait at a pinch still in sight I mean, For wot ye what? a new broom sweeps clean[29] As to high honour I mind not to climb, So I mean in the court to lose no time: Wherein, happy man be his dole,[30] I trust that I Shall not speed worst, and that very quickly. [Exit.

Damon. O Neptune, immortal be thy praise, For that so safe from Greece we have pass’d the seas To this noble city Syracuse, where we The ancient reign of the Romans may see. Whose force Greece also heretofore hath known, Whose virtue the shrill trump of fame so far hath blown. Pithias. My Damon, of right high praise we ought to give To Neptune and all the gods, that we safely did arrive: The seas, I think, with contrary winds never raged so; I am even yet so seasick, that I faint as I go; Therefore let us get some lodging quickly. But where is Stephano?

Stephano. Not far hence: a pox take these mariner-knaves, Not one would help me to carry this stuff, such drunken slaves I think be accursed of the gods’ own mouths. Damon. Stephano, leave thy raging, and let us enter Syracuse, We will provide lodging, and thou shalt be eased of thy burden by and by. Stephano. Good master, make haste, for I tell you plain, This heavy burden puts poor Stephano to much pain. Pithias. Come on thy ways, thou shalt be eased, and that anon. [Exeunt.

Carisophus. It is a true saying, that oft hath been spoken, The pitcher goeth so long to the water, that it[31] cometh home broken. My own proof this hath taught me, for truly, sith I In the city have used to walk very slyly, Not with one can I meet, that will in talk join with me, And to creep into men’s bosoms,[32] some talk for to snatch, But which, into one trip or other, I might trimly them catch, And so accuse them—now, not with one can I meet, That will join in talk with me, I am shunn’d like a devil in the street. My credit is crack’d, where I am known; but I hear say, Certain strangers are arrived: they were a good prey; If happily I might meet with them, I fear not, I, But in talk I should trip them, and that very finely. Which thing, I assure you, I do for mine own gain, Or else I would not plod thus up and down, I tell you plain. Well, I will for a while to the court, to see What Aristippus doth; I would be loth in favour he should overrun me; He is a subtle child, he flattereth so finely, that I fear me He will lick the fat from my lips, and so outwear[33] me: Therefore I will not be long absent, but at hand, That all his fine drifts I may understand. [Exit.

Will. I wonder what my master Aristippus means now-a-days, That he leaveth philosophy, and seeks[34] to please King Dionysius with such merry toys: In Dionysius’ court now he only joys, As trim a courtier as the best, Ready to answer, quick in taunts, pleasant to jest; A lusty companion to devise with fine dames, Whose humour to feed his wily wit he frames. Jack. By Cock, as you say, your master is a minion: A foul coil he keeps in this court; Aristippus alone Now rules the roost with his pleasant devices, That I fear he will put out of conceit my master Carisophus. Will. Fear not that, Jack; for, like brother and brother, They are knit in true friendship the one with the other; They are fellows, you know, and honest men both, Therefore the one to hinder the other they will be loth. Jack. Yea, but I have heard say there is falsehood in fellowship, In the court sometimes one gives another finely the slip: Which when it is spied, it is laugh’d out with a scoff,[35] And with sporting and playing quickly[36] shaken off: In which kind of toying thy master hath such a grace, That he will never blush, he hath a wooden face. But, Will, my master hath bees in his head, If he find me here prating, I am but dead: He is still trotting in the city, there is somewhat in the wind; His looks bewray his inward troubled mind: Therefore I will be packing to the court by and by; If he be once angry, Jack shall cry, woe the pie! Will. By’r Lady, if I tarry long here, of the same sauce shall I taste, For my master sent me on an errand, and bad me make haste, Therefore we will depart together. [Exeunt.

Stephano. Ofttimes I have heard, before I came hither, That no man can serve two masters together; A sentence so true, as most men do take it, At any time false that no man can make it: And yet by their leave, that first have it spoken, How that may prove false, even here I will open: For I, Stephano, lo, so named by my father, At this time serve two masters together, And love them alike: the one and the other I duly obey, I can do no other. A bondman I am, so nature hath wrought me, One Damon of Greece, a gentleman, bought me. To him I stand bound, yet serve I another, Whom Damon my master loves as his own brother: A gentleman too, and Pithias he is named, Fraught with virtue, whom vice never defamed. These two, since at school they fell acquainted, In mutual friendship at no time have fainted. But loved so kindly and friendly each other, As though they were brothers by father and mother. Pythagoras learning these two have embraced, Which both are in virtue so narrowly laced, That all their whole doings do fall to this issue, To have no respect but only to virtue: All one in effect, all one in their going, All one in their study, all one in their doing. These gentlemen both, being of one condition. Both alike of my service have all the fruition: Pithias is joyful, if Damon be pleased: If Pithias is served, then Damon is eased. Serve one, serve both (so near[37]), who would win them: I think they have but one heart between them. In travelling countries we three have contrived[38] Full many a year, and this day arrived At Syracuse in Sicilia, that ancient town, Where my masters are lodged; and I up and down Go seeking to learn what news here are walking, To hark of what things the people are talking. I like not this soil, for as I go plodding, I mark there two, there three, their heads always nodding, In close secret wise, still whispering together. If I ask any question, no man doth answer: But shaking their heads, they go their ways speaking; I mark how with tears their wet eyes are leaking: Some strangeness there is, that breedeth this musing. Well, I will to my masters, and tell of their using, That they may learn, and walk wisely together: I fear we shall curse the time we came hither. [Exit.

Aristippus. Will, didst thou hear the ladies so talk of me? What aileth them? from their nips[39] shall I never be free? Will. Good faith, sir, all the ladies in the court do plainly report, That without mention of them you can make no sport: They are your plain-song to sing descant upon;[40] If they were not, your mirth were gone. Therefore, master, jest no more with women in any wise, If you do, by Cock, you are like to know the price. Aristippus. By’r Lady, Will, this is good counsel: plainly to jest Of women, proof hath taught me is not the best: I will change my copy, howbeit I care not a quinch,[41] I know the gall’d horse will soonest winch: But learn thou secretly how privily they talk Of me in the court: among them slyly walk, And bring me true news thereof. Will. I will, sir master, thereof have no doubt, for I Where they talk of you will inform you perfectly. Aristippus. Do so, my boy: if thou bring it finely to pass, For thy good service thou shalt go in thine old coat at Christmas. [Exeunt.

Damon. Stephano, is all this true that thou hast told me? Stephano. Sir, for lies hitherto ye never controll’d me. O, that we had never set foot on this land, Where Dionysius reigns with so bloody a hand! Every day he showeth some token of cruelty, With blood he hath filled all the streets in the city: I tremble to hear the people’s murmuring, I lament to see his most cruel dealing: I think there is no such tyrant under the sun. O, my dear masters, this morning what hath he done! Damon. What is that? tell us quickly. Stephano. As I this morning pass’d in the street, With a woful man (going to his death) did I meet, Many people followed, and I of one secretly Asked the cause, why he was condemned to die? [Who] whispered in mine ear, nought hath he done but thus, In his sleep he dreamed he had killed Dionysius:[42] Which dream told abroad, was brought to the king in post, By whom, condemned for suspicion, his life he hath lost. Marcia was his name, as the people said. Pithias. My dear friend Damon, I blame not Stephano For wishing we had not come hither, seeing it is so, That for so small cause such cruel death doth ensue. Damon. My Pithias, where tyrants reign, such cases are not new, Which fearing their own state for great cruelty,[43] To sit fast as they think, do execute speedily All such as any light suspicion have tainted. Stephano (Aside). With such quick carvers I list not be acquainted. Damon. So are they never in quiet, but in suspicion still, When one is made away, they take occasion another to kill: Ever in fear, having no trusty friend, void of all peoples’ love, And in their own conscience a continual hell they prove. Pithias. As things by their contraries are always best proved, How happy then are merciful princes, of their people beloved! Having sure friends everywhere, no fear doth touch them: They may safely spend the day pleasantly, at night securè dormiunt in utramque aurem, O my Damon, if choice were offered me, I would choose to be Pithias, As I am Damon’s friend, rather than to be king Dionysius. Stephano. And good cause why; for you are entirely beloved of one, And as far as I hear, Dionysius is beloved of none. Damon. That state is most miserable; thrice happy are we, Whom true love hath joined in perfect amity: Which amity first sprung—without vaunting be it spoken, that is true— Of likeness of manners, took root by company, and now is conserved by virtue; Which virtue always though[44] worldly things do not frame, Yet doth she achieve to her followers immortal fame: Whereof if men were careful for virtue’s sake only, They would honour friendship, and not for commodity. But such as for profit in friendship do link, When storms come, they slide away sooner than a man will think. My Pithias, the sum of my talk falls to this issue, To prove no friendship is sure, but that which is grounded on virtue. Pithias. My Damon, of this thing there needs no proof to me, The gods forbid, but that Pithias with Damon in all things should agree. For why is it said, Amicus alter ipse, But that true friends should be two in body, but one in mind? As it were transformed into another, which against kind Though it seem, yet in good faith, when I am alone, I forget I am Pithias, methink I am Damon. Stephano. That could I never do, to forget myself; full well I know, Wheresoever I go, that I am pauper Stephano: But I pray you, sir, for all your philosophy, See that in this court you walk very wisely. You are but newly come hither; being strangers, ye know, Many eyes are bent on you, in the streets as ye go: Many spies are abroad, you can not be too circumspect. Damon. Stephano, because thou art careful of me, thy master, I do thee praise; Yet think this for a surety: no state to displease By talk or otherwise my friend and I intend: we will here, As men that come to see the soil and manners of all men of every degree. Pythagoras said, that this world was like a stage,[45] Whereon many play their parts: the lookers-on, the sage. Philosophers are, saith he, whose part is to learn The manners of all nations, and the good from the bad to discern. Stephano. Good faith, sir, concerning the people they are not gay, And as far as I see, they be mummers; for nought they say, For the most part, whatsoever you ask them. The soil is such, that to live here I cannot like. Damon. Thou speakest according to thy learning, but I say, Omne solum forti partia,[46] a wise man may live everywhere; Therefore, my dear friend Pithias, Let us view this town in every place, And then consider the people’s manners also. Pithias. As you will, my Damon; but how say you, Stephano? Is it not best, ere we go further, to take some repast? Stephano. In faith, I like this question, sir: for all your haste, To eat somewhat I pray you think it no folly; It is high dinner time, I know by my belly. Damon. Then let us to our lodging depart: when dinner is done, We will view this city as we have begun. [Exeunt.

Carisophus. Once again in hope of good wind, I hoise up my sail, I go into the city to find some prey for mine avail: I hunger while I may see these strangers that lately Arrived: I were safe, if once I might meet them happily. Let them bark that lust at this kind of gain, He is a fool that for his profit will not pain: Though it be joined with other men’s hurt, I care not at all For profit I will accuse any man, hap what shall. But soft, sirs, I pray you hush: what are they that comes here? By their apparel and countenance some strangers they appear. I will shroud myself secretly, even here for a while, To hear all their talk, that I may them beguile.

Stephano. A short horse soon curried[47]; my belly waxeth thinner, I am as hungry now, as when I went to dinner: Your philosophical diet is so fine and small, That you may eat your dinner and supper at once, and not surfeit at all. Damon. Stephano, much meat breeds heaviness: thin diet makes thee light. Stephano. I may be lighter thereby, but I shall never run the faster. Damon. I have had sufficiently discourse of amity, Which I had at dinner with Pithias; and his pleasant company Hath fully satisfied me: it doth me good to feed mine eyes on him. Stephano. Course or discourse, your course is very coarse; for all your talk, You had but one bare course, and that was pick, rise, and walk: And surely, for all your talk of philosophy, I never heard that a man with words could fill his belly. Feed your eyes, quoth you? the reason from my wisdom swerveth, I stared on you both, and yet my belly starveth. Damon. Ah, Stephano, small diet maketh a fine memory. Stephano. I care not for your crafty sophistry, You two are fine, let me be fed like a gross knave still; I pray you licence me for a while to have my will, At home to tarry, whiles you take view of this city! To find some odd victuals in a corner I am very witty. Damon. At your pleasure, sir: I will wait on myself this day; Yet attend upon Pithias, which for a purpose tarrieth at home: So doing, you wait upon me also. Stephano. With wings on my feet I go. [Exit. Damon. Not in vain the poet saith, Naturam furcâ expellas, tamen usque recurret; For train up a bondman never to so good a behaviour, Yet in some point of servility he will savour: As this Stephano, trusty to me his master, loving and kind, Yet touching his belly a very bondman I him find. He is to be borne withal, being so just and true, I assure you, I would not change him for no new. But methinks this is a pleasant city; The seat is good,[48] and yet not strong; and that is great pity. Carisophus (Aside). I am safe, he is mine own. Damon. The air subtle and fine, the people should be witty, That dwell under this climate in so pure a region: A trimmer plat I have not seen in my peregrination. Nothing misliketh me in this country, But that I heard such muttering of cruelty: Fame reporteth strange things of Dionysius, But kings’ matters passing our reach, pertain not to us. Carisophus. Dionysius, quoth you? since the world began, In Sicilia never reigned so cruel a man: A despiteful tyrant to all men; I marvel, I, That none makes him away, and that suddenly. Damon. My friend, the gods forbid so cruel a thing That any man should lift up his sword against the king! Or seek other means by death him to prevent, Whom to rule on earth the mighty gods have sent. But, my friend, leave off this talk of King Dionysius. Carisophus. Why, sir? he cannot hear us. Damon. What then? An nescis longas regibus esse manus? It is no safe talking of them that strikes afar off. But leaving kings’ matters, I pray you show me this courtesy, To describe in few words the state of this city. A traveller I am, desirous to know The state of each country, wherever I go: Not to the hurt of any state, but to get experience thereby. It is not for nought, that the poet doth cry, Dic mihi musa virum, captæ post tempora Trojæ, Qui mores hominum multorum vidit et urbes.[49] In which verses, as some writers do scan, The poet describeth a perfect wise man: Even so I, being a stranger, addicted to philosophy, To see the state of countries myself I apply. Carisophus. Sir, I like this intent, but may I ask your name without scorn? Damon. My name is Damon, well known in my country, a gentleman born. Carisophus. You do wisely to search the state of each country To bear intelligence thereof, whither you lust. He is a spy, [Aside. Sir, I pray you, have patience awhile, for I have to do hereby: View this weak part of this city as you stand, and I very quickly Will return to you again, and then will I show The state of all this country, and of the court also. Damon. I thank you for your courtesy. [Exit Caris.] This chanceth well, that I Met with this gentleman so happily, Which, as it seemeth, misliketh something, Else he would not talk so boldly of the king, And that to a stranger: but lo, where he comes in haste.

Carisophus. This is the[50] fellow: Snap, snap him up: away with him. Snap. Good fellow, thou must go with me to the court. Damon. To the court, sir? and why? Carisophus. Well, we will dispute that before the king. Away with him quickly. Damon. Is this the courtesy you promised me, and that very lately? Carisophus. Away with him, I say. Damon. Use no violence, I will go with you quietly. [Exeunt omnes.

Aristippus. Ah, sirrah, by’r Lady, Aristippus likes Dionysius’ court very well, Which in passing joys and pleasures doth excel. Where he hath dapsiles cœnas, geniales lectos, et auro Fulgentem tyranni zonam.[51] I have plied the harvest, and stroke when the iron was hot; When I spied my time, I was not squeamish to crave, God wot! But with some pleasant toy[52] I crept into the king’s bosom, For which Dionysius gave me Auri talentum magnum— A large reward for so simple services. What, then? the king’s praise standeth chiefly in bountifulness: Which thing though I told the king very pleasantly, Yet can I prove it by good writers of great antiquity: But that shall not need at this time, since that I have abundantly: When I lack hereafter, I will use this point of philosophy: But now, whereas I have felt the king’s liberality, As princely as it came, I will spend it as regally: Money is current, men say, and current comes of Currendo: Then will I make money run, as his nature requireth, I trow. For what becomes a philosopher best, But to despise money above the rest? And yet not so despise it, but to have in store Enough to serve his own turn, and somewhat more. With sundry sports and taunts yesternight I delighted the king, That with his loud laughter the whole court did ring, And I thought he laugh’d not merrier than I, when I got this money. But, mumbudget,[53] for Carisophus I espy In haste to come hither: I must handle the knave finely.

O Carisophus, my dearest friend, my trusty companion! What news with you? where have you been so long? Carisophus. My best beloved friend Aristippus, I am come at last; I have not spent all my time in waste. I have got a prey, and that a good one, I trow. Aristippus. What prey is that? fain would I know. Carisophus. Such a crafty spy I have caught, I dare say, As never was in Sicilia before this day; Such a one as viewed every weak place in the city, Surviewed the haven and each bulwark in talk very witty: And yet by some words himself he did bewray. Aristippus. I think so in good faith, as you did handle him. Carisophus. I handled him clerkly, I joined in talk with him courteously: But when we were entered, I let him speak his will, and I Suck’d out thus much of his words, that I made him say plainly, He was come hither to know the state of the city; And not only this, but that he would understand The state of Dionysius’ court and of the whole land. Which words when I heard, I desired him to stay, Till I had done a little business of the way. Promising him to return again quickly; and so did convey Myself to the court for Snap the tipstaff, which came and upsnatched him, Brought him to the court, and in the porter’s lodge dispatched him, After I ran to Dionysius, as fast as I could, And bewrayed this matter to him, which I have you told; Which thing when he heard, being very merry before, He suddenly fell in dump, and foaming like a boar, At last he swore in great rage, that he should die By the sword or the wheel, and that very shortly. I am too shamefast: for my travail and toil I crave nothing of Dionysius, but only his spoil: Little hath he about him, but a few motheaten crowns of gold, Cha pouch’d them up already, they are sure in hold: And now I go into the city, to say sooth, To see what he hath at his lodging to make up my mouth.[54] Aristippus. My Carisophus, you have done good service, But what is the spy’s name? Carisophus. He is called Damon, born in Greece, from whence lately he came. Aristippus. By my troth, I will go see him, and speak with him too, if I may. Carisophus. Do so, I pray you; but yet by the way, As occasion serveth, commend my service to the king. Aristippus. Dictum sapienti sat est: friend Carisophus, shall I forget that thing? No, I warrant you: though I say little to your face, I will lay on with my mouth for you to Dionysius,[55] when I am in place. [Aside] If I speak one word for such a knave, hang me. [Exit. Carisophus. Our fine philosopher, our trim learned elf, Is gone to see as false a spy as himself. Damon smatters as well as he of crafty philosophy, And can turn cat in the pan[56] very prettily: But Carisophus hath given him such a mighty check, As I think in the end will break his neck. What care I for that? why would[57] he then pry, And learn the secret estate of our country and city? He is but a stranger, by his fall let others be wise, I care not who fall, so that I may rise. As for fine Aristippus, I will keep in with him, He is a shrewd fool to deal withal, he can swim; And yet by my troth, to speak my conscience plainly, I will use his friendship to mine own commodity.[58] While Dionysius favoureth him, Aristippus shall be mine; But if the king once frown on him, then good night, Tomalin: He shall be as strange, as though I never saw him before. But I tarry too long, I will prate no more. Jack, come away. Jack. At hand, sir. Carisophus. At Damon’s lodging, if that you see Any stir to arise, be still at hand by me: Rather than I will lose the spoil, I will blade[59] it out. [Exeunt.

Pithias. What strange news are these! ah, my Stephano, Is my Damon in prison, as the voice doth go? Stephano. It is true, O cruel hap! he is taken for a spy, And as they say, by Dionysius’ own mouth condemned to die. Pithias. To die! Alas! For what cause? Stephano. A sycophant falsely accused him: other cause there is none. But, O Jupiter, of all wrongs the revenger, Seest thou this unjustice, and wilt thou stay any longer From heaven to send down thy hot consuming fire, To destroy the workers of wrong, which provoke thy just ire? Alas! Master Pithias, what shall we do, Being in a strange country, void of friends and acquaintance too? Ah, poor Stephano, hast thou lived to see this day, To see thy true master unjustly made away? Pithias. Stephano, seeing the matter is come to this extremity, Let us make virtue our friend of mere necessity. Run thou to the court, and understand secretly As much as thou canst of Damon’s cause, and I Will make some means to entreat Aristippus: He can do much, as I hear, with King Dionysius. Stephano. I am gone, sir. Ah, I would to God my travail and pain Might restore my master to his liberty again! Pithias. Ah woful Pithias! sith now I am alone, What way shall I first begin to make my moan? What words shall I find apt for my complaint? Damon, my friend, my joy, my life, is in peril. Of force I must now faint. But, O music, as in joyful times[60] thy merry notes did borrow, So now lend me thy yearnful tunes to utter my sorrow.

Awake, ye woful wights, That long have wept in woe: Resign to me your plaints and tears, My hapless hap to show. My woe no tongue can tell, No pen can well descry: O, what a death is this to hear, Damon my friend must die! The loss of worldly wealth Man’s wisdom may restore, And physic hath provided too A salve for every sore: But my true friend once lost, No art can well supply: Then, what a death is this to hear, Damon my friend must die! My mouth, refuse the food, That should my limbs sustain: Let sorrow sink into my breast, And ransack every vein: Ye Furies, all at once On me your torments try: Why should I live, since that I hear[62] Damon my friend must[63] die! Gripe me, you greedy grief And present pangs of death, You sisters three, with cruel hands With speed come[64] stop my breath: Shrine me in clay alive, Some good man stop mine eye: O death, come now, seeing I hear Damon my friend must die.

In vain I call for death, which heareth not my complaint: But what wisdom is this, in such extremity to faint? Multum juvat in re malâ animus bonus. I will to the court myself, to make friends, and that presently. I will never forsake my friend in time of misery— But do I see Stephano amazed hither to run?

Stephano. O Pithias, Pithias, we are all undone! Mine own ears have sucked in mine own sorrow; I heard Dionysius swear, that Damon should die to-morrow. Pithias. How camest thou so near the presence of the king, That thou mightest hear Dionysius speak this thing? Stephano. By friendship I gat into the court, where in great audience I heard Dionysius with his own mouth give this cruel sentence By these express words: that Damon the Greek, that crafty spy, Without further judgment to-morrow should die: Believe me, Pithias, with these ears I heard it myself. Pithias. Then how near is my death also! Ah, woe is me! Ah my Damon, another myself, shall I forego thee? Stephano. Sir, there is no time of lamenting now: it behoveth us To make means to them which can do much with Dionysius, That he be not made away, ere his cause be fully heard; for we see By evil report things be made to princes far worse than they be. But lo, yonder cometh Aristippus, in great favour with king Dionysius, Entreat him to speak a good word to the king for us, And in the mean season I will to your lodging to see all things safe there. Pithias. To that I agree: but let us slip aside his talk to hear.

Aristippus. Here is a sudden change indeed, a strange metamorphosis, This court is clean altered: who would have thought this? Dionysius, of late so pleasant and merry, Is quite changed now into such melancholy, That nothing can please him: he walketh up and down, Fretting and chaffing, on every man he doth frown; In so much that, when I in pleasant words began to play, So sternly he frowned on me, and knit me up so short, I perceive it is no safe playing with lions, but when it please them; If you claw where it itch not, you shall disease them, And so perhaps get a clap; mine own proof taught me this, That it is very good to be merry and wise. The only cause of this hurly-burly is Carisophus, that wicked man, Which lately took Damon for a spy, a poor gentleman, And hath incensed the king against him so despitefully, That Dionysius hath judged him to-morrow to die. I have talk’d with Damon, whom though in words I found very witty, Yet was he more curious than wise in viewing this city: But truly, for aught I can learn, there is no cause why So suddenly and cruelly he should be condemned to die: Howsoever it be, this is the short and long, I dare not gainsay the king, be it right or wrong: I am sorry, and that is all I may or can do in this case: Nought availeth persuasion, where froward opinion taketh place. Pithias. Sir, if humble suits you would not despise, Then bow on[65] me your pitiful eyes. My name is Pithias, in Greece well known, A perfect friend to that woful Damon, Which now a poor captive in this court doth lie, By the king’s own mouth, as I hear, condemned to die; For whom I crave your mastership’s goodness, To stand his friend in this his great distress. Nought hath he done worthy of death; but very fondly, Being a stranger, he viewed this city: For no evil practices, but to feed his eyes. But seeing Dionysius is informed otherwise, My suit is to you, when you see time and place, To assuage the king’s anger, and to purchase his grace: In which doing you shall not do good to one only, But you shall further two,[66] and that fully. Aristippus. My friend, in this case I can do you no pleasure. Pithias. Sir, you serve in the court, as fame doth tell. Aristippus. I am of the court indeed, but none of the council. Pithias. As I hear, none is in greater favour with the king, than you at this day. Aristippus. The more in favour, the less I dare say. Pithias. It is a courtier’s praise to help strangers in misery. Aristippus. To help another, and hurt myself, it is an evil point of courtesy. Pithias. You shall not hurt yourself to speak for the innocent. Aristippus. He is not innocent, whom the king judgeth nocent. Pithias. Why, sir, do you think this matter past all remedy? Aristippus. So far past, that Dionysius hath sworn, Damon to-morrow shall die. Pithias. This word my trembling heart cutteth in two. Ah, sir, in this woful case that[67] wist I best to do? Aristippus. Best to content yourself, when there is no remedy, He is well relieved that foreknoweth his misery: Yet, if any comfort be, it resteth in Eubulus, The chiefest councillor about King Dionysius: Which pitieth Damon’s case in this great extremity, Persuading the king from all kind of cruelty. Pithias. The mighty gods preserve you for this word of comfort. Taking my leave of your goodness, I will now resort To Eubulus, that good councillor: But hark! methink I hear a trumpet blow. Aristippus. The king is at hand, stand close in the prease.[68] Beware, if he know You are friend to Damon, he will take you for a spy also. Farewell, I dare not be seen with you.

Dionysius. Gronno, do my commandment: strike off Damon’s irons by and by. Then bring him forth, I myself will see him executed presently. Gronno. O mighty king, your commandment will I do speedily. Dionysius. Eubulus, thou hast talked in vain, for sure he shall die. Shall I suffer my life to stand in peril of every spy? Eubulus. That he conspired against your person, his accuser cannot say: He only viewed your city, and will you for that make him away? Dionysius. What he would have done, the guess is great: he minded me to hurt, That came so slyly to search out the secret estate of my court. Shall I still lie in fear? no, no: I will cut off such imps betime, Lest that to my farther danger too high they climb. Eubulus. Yet have the mighty gods immortal fame assigned To all worldly princes, which in mercy be inclined. Dionysius. Let fame talk what she list, so I may live in safety. Eubulus. The only mean to that is, to use mercy, Dionysius. A mild prince the people despiseth. Eubulus. A cruel king the people hateth. Dionysius. Let them hate me, so they fear me. Eubulus. That is not the way to live in safety. Dionysius. My sword and power shall purchase my quietness. Eubulus. That is sooner procured by mercy and gentleness. Dionysius. Dionysius ought to be feared. Eubulus. Better for him to be well beloved. Dionysius. Fortune maketh all things subject to my power. Eubulus. Believe her not, she is a light goddess; she can laugh and low’r. Dionysius. A king’s praise standeth in the revenging of his enemy. Eubulus. A greater praise to win him by clemency. Dionysius. To suffer the wicked to live it is no mercy. Eubulus. To kill the innocent it is great cruelty. Dionysius. Is Damon innocent, which so craftily undermined Carisophus, To understand what he could of king Dionysius? Which surviewed the haven and each bulwark in the city, Where battery might be laid, what way best to approach? shall I Suffer such a one to live, that worketh me such despite? No, he shall die, then I am safe: a dead dog cannot bite. Eubulus. But yet, O mighty king,[69] my duty bindeth me To give such counsel, as with your honour may best agree: The strongest pillars of princely dignity, I find, is[70] justice with mercy and prudent liberality: The one judgeth all things by upright equity, The other rewardeth the worthy, flying each extremity. As to spare those which offend maliciously, It may be called no justice, but extreme injury. So upon suspicion of each thing not well-proved, To put to death presently whom envious flattery accused, It seemeth of tyranny; and upon what fickle ground all tyrants do stand, Athens and Lacedemon can teach you, if it be rightly scann’d. And not only these citizens, but who curiously seeks The whole histories of all the world, not only of Romans and Greeks, Shall well perceive of all tyrants the ruinous fall, Their state uncertain, beloved of none, but hated of all. Of merciful princes to set out the passing felicity I need not: enough of that even these days do testify. They live devoid of fear, their sleeps are sound, they dread no enemy, They are feared and loved, and why? they rule with justice and mercy, Extending justice to such as wickedly from justice have swerved: Mercy unto those who in[71] opinion of simpleness have mercy deserved. Of liberty nought I say, but only this thing, Liberty upholdeth the state of a king Whose large bountifulness ought to fall to this issue, To reward none but such as deserve it for virtue. Which merciful justice if you would follow, and provident liberality; Neither the caterpillars of all courts, et fruges consumere nati, Parasites with wealth puff’d up, should not look so high; Nor yet for this simple fact poor Damon should die. Dionysius. With pain mine ears have heard this vain talk of mercy. I tell thee, fear and terror defendeth kings only: Till he be gone, whom I suspect, how shall I live quietly, Whose memory with chilling horror fills my breast day and night violently? My dreadful dreams of him bereaves my rest; on bed I lie Shaking and trembling, as one ready to yield his throat to Damon’s sword. This quaking dread nothing but Damon’s blood can stay: Better he die, than I to be tormented with fear alway. He shall die, though Eubulus consent not thereto: It is lawful, for kings, as they list, all things to do.

Pithias. O my Damon! Damon. O my Pithias! seeing death must part us, farewell for ever. Pithias. O Damon, O my sweet friend! Snap. Away from the prisoner: what a prease have we here? Gronno. As you commanded, O mighty king, we have brought Damon. Dionysius. Then go to: make ready. I will not stir out of this place, Till I see his head stroken off before my face. Gronno. It shall be done, sir. [To Damon] Because your eyes have made such a-do. I will knock down this your lantern, and shut up your shop-window too. Damon. O mighty king, where as no truth my innocent life can save, But that so greedily you thirst[72] my guiltless blood to have, Albeit (even in thought) I had not ought against your person: Yet now I plead not for life, ne will I crave your pardon. But seeing in Greece my country, where well I am known, I have worldly things fit for mine alliance, when I am gone, To dispose them, ere I die, if I might obtain leisure, I would account it (O king) for a passing great pleasure: Not to prolong my life thereby, for which I reckon not this, But to set my things in a stay: and surely I will not miss, Upon the faith which all gentlemen ought to embrace, To return again, at your time to appoint, to yield my body here in this place. Grant me (O king) such time to despatch this inquiry,[73] And I will not fail when you appoint, even here my life to pay.[74] Dionysius. A pleasant request! as though I could trust him absent, Whom in no wise I cannot trust being present. And yet though I sware the contrary, do that I require, Give me a pledge for thy return, and have thine own desire. He is as near now as he was before. [Aside. Damon. There is no surer nor greater pledge than the faith of a gentleman. Dionysius. It was wont to be, but otherwise now the world doth stand; Therefore do as I say, else presently yield thy neck to the sword. If I might with my honour, I would recall my word. Pithias. Stand to your word, O king, for kings ought nothing say, But that they would perform in perfect deeds alway. A pledge you did require, when Damon his suit did meve, For which with heart and stretched hands most humble thanks I give: And that you may not say but Damon hath a friend, That loves him better than his own life, and will do to his end, Take me, O mighty king: my life I pawn[75] for his: Strike off my head, if Damon hap at his day to miss. Dionysius. What art thou, that chargest me with my word so boldly here? Pithias. I am Pithias, a Greek born, which hold Damon my friend full dear. Dionysius. Too dear perhaps, to hazard thy life for him: what fondness[76] moveth thee? Pithias. No fondness at all, but perfect amity. Dionysius. A mad kind of amity! advise thyself well: if Damon fail at his day, Which shall be justly appointed, wilt thou die for him, to me his life to pay? Pithias. Most willingly, O mighty king: if Damon fail, let Pithias die. Dionysius. Thou seemest to trust his words, that pawnest thy life so frankly. Pithias. What Damon saith, Pithias believeth assuredly. Dionysius. Take heed, for [your] life:[77] wordly men break promise in many things. Pithias. Though wordly men do so, it never haps amongst friends. Dionysius. What callest thou friends? are they not men, is not this true? Pithias. Men they be, but such men as love one another only for virtue. Dionysius. For what virtue dost thou love this spy, this Damon? Pithias. For that virtue which yet to you is unknown. Dionysius. Eubulus, what shall I do? I would despatch this Damon fain, But this foolish fellow so chargeth me, that I may not call back my word again. Eubulus. The reverent majesty of a king stands chiefly in keeping his promise. What you have said this whole court beareth witness, Save your honour, whatsoever you do. Dionysius. For saving mine honour, I must forbear my will: go to. Pithias, seeing thou tookest me at my word, take Damon to thee: For two months he is thine: unbind him, I set him free; Which time once expired, if he appear not the next day by noon, Without further delay thou shalt lose thy life, and that full soon. Whether he die by the way, or lie sick in his bed, If he return not then, thou shalt either hang or lose thy head. Pithias. For this, O mighty king, I yield immortal thanks. O joyful day! Dionysius. Gronno, take him to thee: bind him, see him kept in safety: If he escape, assure thyself for him thou shalt die. Eubulus, let us depart, to talk of this strange thing within. Eubulus. I follow. [Exeunt. Gronno. Damon, thou servest the gods well today; be thou of comfort. As for you, sir, I think you will be hanged in sport. You heard what the king said; I must keep you safely: By Cock, so I will, you shall rather hang than I. Come on your way. Pithias. My Damon, farewell; the gods have thee in keeping. Damon. O my Pithias, my pledge, farewell; I part from thee weeping. But joyful at my day appointed I will return again, When I will deliver thee from all trouble and pain, Stephano will I leave behind me to wait upon thee in prison alone, And I, whom fortune hath reserved to this misery, will walk home. Ah my Pithias, my pledge, my life, my friend, farewell. Pithias. Farewell, my Damon. Damon. Loth am I to depart. Sith sobs my trembling tongue doth stay, O music, sound my doleful plaints, when I am gone my way. [Exit Damon. Gronno. I am glad he is gone, I had almost wept too. Come, Pithias, So God help me, I am sorry for thy foolish case Wilt thou venter thy life for a man so fondly? Pithias. It is no venter: my friend is just, for whom I desire to die. Gronno. Here is a madman! I tell thee, I have a wife whom I love well, And if ich would die for her, chould ich were in hell. Wilt thou do more for a man than I would for a woman? Pithias. Yea, that I will. Gronno. Then come on your ways, you must to prison haste. I fear you will repent this folly at last. Pithias. That shalt thou never see. But O music, as my Damon requested thee, Sound out thy doleful tunes in this time of calamity. [Exeunt. Here the regals play a mourning song, and Damon cometh in in mariner apparel and Stephano with him. Damon. Weep no more, Stephano, this is but destiny: Had not this happ’d, yet I know I am born to die: Where or in what place, the gods know alone, To whose judgment myself I commit. Therefore leave off thy moan, And wait upon Pithias in prison till I return again, In whom my joy, my care and life doth only remain. Stephano. O my dear master, let me go with you; for my poor company Shall be some small comfort in this time of misery. Damon. O Stephano, hast thou been so long with me, And yet dost not know the force of true amity? I tell thee once again, my friend and I are but one: Wait upon Pithias, and think thou art with Damon. Whereof I may not now discourse, the time passeth away; The sooner I am gone, the shorter shall be my journey: Therefore farewell, Stephano, commend me to my friend Pithias, Whom I trust to deliver in time out of this woful case. Stephano. Farewell, my dear master, since your pleasure is so. O cruel hap! O poor Stephano! O cursed Carisophus, that first moved this tragedy!— But what a noise is this? is all well within, trow ye? I fear all be not well within, I will go see.— Come out, you weasel: are you seeking eggs in Damon’s chest? Come out, I say, wilt thou be packing? by Cock, you were best. Carisophus. How durst thou, villain, to lay hands on me? Stephano. Out, sir knave, or I will send ye. Art thou not content to accuse Damon wrongfully, But wilt thou rob him also, and that openly? Carisophus. The king gave me the spoil: to take mine own wilt thou let me?[78] Stephano. Thine own, villain! where is thine authority? Carisophus. I am authority of myself; dost thou not know? Stephano. By’r Lady, that is somewhat; but have you no more to show? Carisophus. What, if I have not? Stephano. Then for an earnest penny take this blow. I shall bombast you, you mocking knave; chill put pro in my purse for this time.[79] Carisophus. Jack, give me my sword and target. Jack. I cannot come to you, master, this knave doth me let. Hold, master. Stephano. Away, Jackanapes, else I will col’phise you[80] by and by: Ye slave, I will have my pennyworths of thee therefore, if I die. About, villain! Carisophus. O citizens, help to defend me. Stephano. Nay, they will rather help to hang thee. Carisophus. Good fellow, let us reason of the matter quietly: beat me no more. Stephano. Of this condition I will stay, if thou swear, as thou art an honest man, Thou wilt say nothing to the king of this when I am gone. Carisophus. I will say nothing; here is my hand, as I am an honest man. Stephano. Then say on thy mind: I have taken a wise oath on him, have I not, trow ye? To trust such a false knave upon his honesty? As he is an honest man (quoth you?) he may bewray all to the king, And break his oath for this never a whit—but, my franion,[81] I tell you this one thing: If you disclose this, I will devise such a way, That whilst thou livest, thou shalt remember this day. Carisophus. You need not devise for that, for this day is printed in my memory; I warrant you, I shall remember this beating till I die: But seeing of courtesy you have granted that we should talk quietly, Methinks in calling me knave you do me much injury. Stephano. Why so, I pray thee heartily? Carisophus. Because I am the king’s man: keeps the king any knaves? Stephano. He should not; but what he doth, it is evident by thee, And as far as I can learn or understand, There is none better able to keep knaves in all the land. Carisophus. O sir, I am a courtier: when courtiers shall hear tell, How you have used me, they will not take it well. Stephano. Nay, all right courtiers will ken me thank;[82] and wot you why? Because I handled a counterfeit courtier in his kind so finely. What, sir? all are not courtiers that have a counterfeit show; In a troop of honest men some knaves may stand, ye know, Such as by stealth creep in under the colour of honesty, Which sort under that cloak do all kinds of villainy, A right courtier is virtuous, gentle, and full of urbanity, Hurting no man, good to all, devoid of villainy: But such as thou art, fountains of squirrility and vain delights; Though you hang by the court, you are but flatt’ring parasites; As well deserving the right name of courtesy, As the coward knight the true praise of chivalry. I could say more, but I will not, for that I am your well-willer. In faith, Carisophus, you are no courtier but a caterpillar, A sycophant, a parasite, a flatterer, and a knave. Whether I will or no, these names you must have: How well you deserve this by your deeds it is known, For that so unjustly thou hast accused poor Damon, Whose woful case the gods help alone. Carisophus. Sir, are you his servant, that you pity his case so? Stephano. No, bum troth, goodman Grumb, his name is Stephano: I am called Onaphets,[83] if needs you will know. The knave beginneth to sift me, but I turn my name in and out, Cretizo cum Cretense,[84] to make him a lout. [Aside. Carisophus. What mumble you with yourself, Master Onaphets? Stephano. I am reckoning with myself how I may pay my debts. Carisophus. You have paid me more than you did owe me. Stephano. Nay, upon a farther reckoning, I will pay you more, if I know Either you talk of that is done, or by your sycophantical envy You prick forth Dionysius the sooner, that Damon may die: I will so pay thee, that thy bones shall rattle in thy skin. Remember what I have said; Onaphets is my name. [Exit. Carisophus. The sturdy knave is gone, the devil him take! He hath made my head, shoulders, arms, sides, and all to ache. Thou whoreson villain boy, why didst thou wait no better? As he paid me, so will I not die thy debtor. [Strikes him. Jack. Master, why do you fight with me? I am not your match, you see: You durst not fight with him that is gone, and will you wreak your anger on me? Carisophus. Thou villain, by thee I have lost mine honour, Beaten with a cudgel like a slave, a vacabone, or a lazy lubber, And not given one blow again. Hast thou handled me well? Jack. Master, I handled you not, but who did handle you very handsomely, you can tell. Carisophus. Handsomely! thou crack-rope.[85] Jack. Yea, sir, very handsomely: I hold you a groat, He handled you so handsomely, that he left not one mote in your coat. Carisophus. O, I had firk’d him trimly, thou villain, if thou hadst given me my sword. Jack. It is better as it is, master, believe me, at a word. If he had seen your weapon, he would have been fiercer, And so perhaps beat you worse, I speak it with my heart, You were never at the dealing of fence-blows, but you had four away for your part. It is but your luck, you are man good enough; But the Welsh Onaphets was a vengeance-knave, and rough. Master, you were best go home and rest in your bed, Methinks your cap waxeth too little for your head. Carisophus. What! doth my head swell? Jack. Yea, as big as a codshead, and bleeds too. Carisophus. I am ashamed to show my face with this hue. Jack. No shame at all; men have been beaten far better than you. Carisophus. I must go to the chirurgeon’s; what shall I say, when I am a-dressing? Jack. You may say truly you met with a knave’s blessing. [Exeunt.

Aristippus. By mine own experience I prove true that many men tell, To live in court not beloved, better be in hell: What crying out, what cursing, is there within of Carisophus, Because he accused Damon to King Dionysius! Even now he came whining and crying into the court for the nonce, Showing that one Onaphets had broke his knave’s sconce. Which strange name when they heard every man laugh’d heartily, And I by myself scann’d his name secretly; For well I knew it was some mad-headed child That invented this name, that the log-headed knave might be beguil’d. In tossing it often with myself to and fro, I found out that Onaphets backward spelled Stephano. I smiled in my sleeve, how to see by turning his name he dress’d him, And how for Damon his master’s sake with a wooden cudgel he bless’d him. None pitied the knave, no man nor woman; but all laugh’d him to scorn. To be thus hated of all, better unborn: Far better Aristippus hath provided, I trow; For in all the court I am beloved both of high and low. I offend none, insomuch that women sing this to my great praise, Omnis Aristippum decuit color, et locus et res. But in all this jollity one thing ’mazeth me, The strangest thing that ever was heard or known, Is now happened in this court by that Damon, Whom Carisophus accused: Damon is now at liberty, For whose return Pithias his friend lieth in prison, alas, in great jeopardy. To-morrow is the day, which day by noon if Damon return not, earnestly The king hath sworn that Pithias should die; Whereof Pithias hath intelligence very secretly, Wishing that Damon may not return, till he hath paid His life for his friend. Hath it been heretofore ever said, That any man for his friend would die so willingly? O noble friendship! O perfect amity! Thy force is here seen, and that very perfectly. The king himself museth hereat, yet he is far out of square, That he trusteth none to come near him: not even his own daughters will he have Unsearch’d to enter his chamber, while[86] he hath made barbers his beard to shave, Not with knife or razor, for all edge-tools he fears, But with hot burning nutshells they singe off his hairs. Was there ever man that lived in such misery? Well, I will go in—with a heavy and pensive heart, too, To think how Pithias, this poor gentleman, to-morrow shall die. [Exit.

Jack. Well, by mine honesty, I will mar your monkey’s[87] face, if you so fondly prate. Will. Jack, by my troth, seeing you are without the court-gate, If you play Jack-napes, in mocking my master and despising my face, Even here with a pantable[88] I will you disgrace; And though you have a far better face than I, Yet who is better man of us two these fists shall try, Unless you leave your taunting. Jack. Thou began’st first; didst thou now not say even now, That Carisophus my master was no man but a cow, In taking so many blows, and gave[89] never a blow again? Will. I said so indeed, he is but a tame ruffian, That can swear by his flask and twich-box,[90] and God’s precious lady, And yet will be beaten with a faggot-stick. These barking whelps were never good biters, Ne yet great crakers were ever great fighters: But seeing you egg me so much, I will somewhat more recite; I say, Carisophus thy master is a flatt’ring parasite; Gleaning away the sweet from the worthy in all the court. What tragedy hath he moved of late? the devil take him! he doth much hurt. Jack. I pray you, what is Aristippus thy master, is not he a parasite too, That with scoffing and jesting in the court makes so much a-do? Will. He is no parasite, but a pleasant gentleman full of courtesy. Thy master is a churlish lout, the heir of a dung-fork; as void of honesty As thou art of honour. Jack. Nay, if you will needs be prating of my master still, In faith I must cool you, my friend, dapper Will: Take this at the beginning. [Strikes him. Will. Praise well your winning, my pantable is as ready as yours. Jack. By the mass, I will box you. Will. By Cock, I will fox you. Jack. Will, was I with you? Will. Jack, did I fly? Jack. Alas, pretty cockerel, you are too weak; Will. In faith, doating dottrel,[91] you will cry creak.

Snap. Away, you crack-ropes, are you fighting at the court-gate? And I take you here again, I will swinge you both: what! [Exit. Jack. I beshrew Snap the tipstaff, that great knave’s heart, that hither did come, Had he not been, you had cried ere this, Victus, victa, victum: But seeing we have breathed ourselves, if ye list, Let us agree like friends, and shake each other by the fist. Will. Content am I, for I am not malicious; but on this condition, That you talk no more so broad of my master as here you have done. But who have we here? ’tis Coals I spy[92] coming yonder. Jack. Will, let us slip aside and view him well.

Grim. What devil! ich ween the porters are drunk, will they not dup[93] the gate to-day? [To] take in coals for the king’s own mouth;[94] will nobody stir, I say? Ich might have lain tway hours longer in my bed, Cha tarried so long here, that my teeth chatter in my head. Jack. Will, after our falling out wilt thou laugh merrily? Will. Ay, marry, Jack, I pray thee heartily. Jack. Then follow me, and hem in a word now and then— What brawling knave is there at the court-gate so early? Will. It is some brainsick villain, I durst lay a penny. Jack. Was it you,[95] sir, that cried so loud, I trow, And bid us take in coals for the king’s mouth even now? Grim. ’Twas I, indeed. Jack. Why, sir, how dare you speak such petty treason? Doth the king eat coals at any season? Grim. Here is a gay world! boys now sets old men to school. I said well enough: what, Jack-sauce, think’st cham a fool? At bakehouse, butt’ry-hatch, kitchen, and cellar, Do[96] they not say for the king’s mouth? Will. What, then, goodman collier? Grim. What, then! seeing without coals thee cannot finely dress the king’s meat, May I not say, take in coals for the king’s mouth, though coals he do not eat? Jack. James Christe! came ever from a collier an answer so trim? You are learned, are you not, father Grim? Grim. Grim is my name indeed, cham not learned, and yet the king’s collier: This vorty winter cha been to the king a servitor, Though I be not learned, yet cha mother-wit enough, whole and some. Will. So it seems, you have so much mother-wit, that you lack your father’s wisdom. Grim. Mass, cham well-beset, here’s a trim cast of murlons.[97] What be you, my pretty cockerels, that ask me these questions? Jack. Good faith, Master Grim,[98] if such merlins on your pouch may light, They are so quick of wing, that quickly they can carry it out of your sight; And though we are cockerels now, we shall have spurs one day, And shall be able perhaps to make you a capon [to your pay.[99]] But to tell you the truth, we are the porter’s men, which early and late Wait on such gentlemen as you, to open the court-gate. Grim. Are ye servants then? Will. Yea, sir; are we not pretty men? Grim. Pretty men, quoth you? nay, you are strong men, else you could not bear these breeches. Will. Are these such[100] great hose? in faith, goodman collier, you see with your nose: By mine honesty, I have but one lining in one hose, but seven ells of rug.[101] Grim. This is but a little, yet it makes thee seem a great bug. Jack. How say you, goodman collier, can you find any fault here?[102] Grim. Nay, you should [not] find fau’t, marry, here’s trim gear! Alas, little knave, dost not sweat? thou goest with great pain, These are no hose, but water-bougets,[103] I tell thee plain; Good for none but such as have no buttocks. Did you ever see two such little Robin ruddocks[104] So laden with breeches? chill say no more, lest I offend. Who invented these monsters[105] first, did it to a ghostly end, To have a mail ready to put in other folks’ stuff, We see this evident by daily proof. One preached of late not far hence in no pulpit, but in a wain-cart, That spake enough of this; but for my part, Chill say no more: your own necessity In the end will force you to find some remedy. Jack. Will,[106] hold this railing knave with a talk, when I am gone: I will fetch him his filling ale for his good sermon. [Exit. Will. Go thy way, Father Grim, gaily well you do say, It is but young men’s folly, that list to play, And mask awhile in the net of their own device; When they come to your age, they will be wise. Grim. Bum troth, but few such roisters come to my years at this day; They be cut off betimes, ere they have gone half their journey: I will not tell why: let them guess that can, I mean somewhat thereby.

Jack. Father Grim, because you are stirring so early, I have brought you a bowl of wine to make you merry. Grim. Wine, marry! this is welcome to colliers, chill swap’t off by and by: Chwas stirring so early, that my very soul is dry. Jack. This is stoutly done: will you have it warmed, Father Grim? Grim. No; it is warm enough; it is very lousious[107] and trim. ’Tis musselden,[108] ich ween; of fellowship let me have another spurt, Ich can drink as easily now, as if I satin my shirt. Jack. By Cock, and you shall have it; but I will begin, and that anon, Je bois a vous mon compagnon.[109] Grim. J’ai vous pleigé, petit Zawne.[110] Jack. Can you speak French? here is a trim collier, by this day! Grim. What man! ich learned this, when ich was a soldier; When ich was a lusty fellow, and could yerk a whip trimly, Better than these boy-colliers, that come to the court daily: When there were[111] not so many captious fellows as now, That would torup[112] men for every trifle, I wot not how: As there was one Damon, not long since taken for a spy; How justly I know not, but he was condemned to die. Will (aside.) This wine hath warmed him, this comes well to pass, We shall know all now, for in Vino veritas. Father Grim, who accused this Damon to King Dionysius? Grim. A vengeance take him! ’twas a gentleman, one Master Crowsphus. Will. Crowsphus! you clip the king’s language, you would have said Carisophus. But I perceive now either the wind is at the south, Or else your tongue cleaveth to the roof of your mouth. Grim. A murrain take thilk wine, it so intoxicate my brain, That to be hanged by and by I cannot speak plain. Jack. You speak knavishly plain, seeing my master you do mock: In faith, ere you go, I will make you a lobcock. [Aside. Father Grim, what say they of this Damon abroad? Grim. All men are sorry for him, so help me God. They say a false knave ’cused him to the king wrongfully; And he is gone, and should be here to-morrow to die, Or else his fellow, which is in prison, his room shall supply. Chill not be his half for vorty shillings, I tell you plain, I think Damon be too wise to return again. Will. Will no man speak for them in this woful case? Grim. No, chill warrant you, one Master Stippus is in place, Where he may do good, but he frames himself so, Whatsoever Dionysius willeth, to that he will not say no: ’Tis a subtle vox, he will not tread on thorns for none, A merry harecop[113] ’tis, and a pleasant companion; A right courtier, and can provide for one. Jack. Will, how like you this gear? your master Aristippus also At this collier’s hand hath had a blow! But in faith, Father Grim, cannot ye colliers Provide for yourselves far better than courtiers? Grim. Yes, I trow: black colliers go in threadbare coats, Yet so provide they, that they have the fair white groats. Ich may say in counsel, though all day I moil in dirt, Chill not change lives with any in Dionysius’ court: For though their apparel be never so fine, Yet sure their credit is far worse than mine. And, by Cock, I may say, for all their high looks, I know some sticks full deep in merchants’ books: And deeper will fall in, as fame me tells, As long as instead of money they take up hauks’ hoods and bells: Whereby they fall into a swelling disease, which colliers do not know; ’T ’ath a mad name: it is called, ich ween, Centum pro cento. Some other in courts make others laugh merrily, When they wail and lament their own estate secretly. Friendship is dead in court, hypocrisy doth reign; Who is in favour now, to-morrow is out again: The state is so uncertain that I, by my will, Will never be courtier, but a collier still. Will. It seemeth that colliers have a very[114] trim life. Grim. Colliers get money still: tell me of troth, Is not that a trim life now, as the world go’th? All day though I toil with my main and might, With money in my pouch I come home merry at night, And sit down in my chair by my wife fair Alison, And turn a crab in the fire,[115] as merry as Pope John. Jack. That pope was a merry fellow, of whom folk talk so much. Grim. H’ad to be merry withal, h’ad gold enough in his hutch. Jack. Can gold make men merry? they say, who can sing so merry a note, As he that is not able to change a groat?[116] Grim. Who sings in that case, sings never in tune. I know for my part, That a heavy pouch with gold makes a light heart; Of which I have provided for a dear year good store, And these benters,[117] I trow, shall anon get me more. Will. By serving the court with coals, you gain’d all this money. Grim. By the court only, I assure ye. Jack. After what sort, I pray thee tell me? Grim. Nay, there bate an ace (quod Bolton[118]); I can wear a horn and blow it not. Jack. By ’r Lady, the wiser man. Grim. Shall I tell you by what sleight I got all this money? Then ich were a noddy indeed; no, no, I warrant ye. Yet in few words I tell you this one thing, He is a very fool that cannot gain by the king. Will. Well said, Father Grim: you are a wily collier and a brave, I see now there is no knave like to the old knave. Grim. Such knaves have money, when courtiers have none. But tell me, is it true that abroad is blown? Jack. What is that? Grim. Hath the king made those fair damsels his daughters, To become now fine and trim barbers? Jack. Yea, truly, to his own person. Grim. Good fellows, believe me, as the case now stands, I would give one sack of coals to be wash’d at their hands, If ich came so near them, for my wit chould not give three chips, If ich could not steal one swap at their lips. Jack. Will, this knave is drunk, let us dress him. Let us rifle him so, that he have not one penny to bless him, And steal away his debenters[119] too. [Aside. Will. Content: invent the way, and I am ready, Jack. Faith, and I will make him a noddy. [Aside. Father Grim, if you pray me well,[120] I will wash you and shave you too, Even after the same fashion as the king’s daughters do: In all points as they handle Dionysius, I will dress you trim and fine. Grim. Chuld vain learn that: come on then, chill give thee a whole pint of wine At tavern for thy labour, when ’cha money for my benters here. [Here Will fetcheth a barber’s bason, a pot with water,[121] a razor, and cloths, and a pair of spectacles. Jack. Come, mine own Father Grim, sit down. Grim. Mass, to begin withal, here is a trim chair. Jack. What, man, I will use you like a prince. Sir boy, fetch me my gear. Will. Here, sir. Jack. Hold up, Father Grim. Grim. Me-seem my head doth swim. Jack. My costly perfumes make that. Away with this, sir boy: be quick. Aloyse, aloyse,[122] how pretty it is! is not here a good face? A fine owl’s eyes, a mouth like an oven. Father, you have good butter-teeth full seen. [Aside] You were weaned, else you would have been a great calf. Ah trim lips to sweep a manger! here is a chin, As soft as the hoof of an horse. Grim. Doth the king’s daughters rub so hard? Jack. Hold your head straight, man, else all will be marr’d. By’r Lady, you are of good complexion, A right Croyden sanguine,[123] beshrew me. Hold up, Father Grim. Will, can you bestir ye? Grim. Methinks, after a marvellous fashion you do besmear me. Jack. It is with unguentum of Daucus Maucus, that is very costly: I give not this washing-ball to everybody. After you have been dress’d so finely at my hand, You may kiss any lady’s lips within this land. Ah, you are trimly wash’d! how say you, is not this trim water? Grim. It may be wholesome, but it is vengeance sour. Jack. It scours the better. Sir boy, give me my razor. Will. Here at hand, sir. Grim. God’s arms! ’tis a chopping knife, ’tis no razor. Jack. It is a razor, and that a very good one; It came lately from Palermo,[124] it cost me twenty crowns alone. Your eyes dazzle after your washing, these spectacles put on: Now view this razor, tell me, is it not a good one? Grim. They be gay barnacles, yet I see never the better. Jack. Indeed they be a young sight, and that is the matter; But I warrant you this razor is very easy. Grim. Go to, then; since you begun, do as [it] please ye. Jack. Hold up, Father Grim. Grim. O, your razor doth hurt my lip. Jack. No, it scrapeth off a pimple to ease you of the pip. I have done now, how say you? are you not well? Grim. Cham lighter than ich was, the truth to tell. Jack. Will you sing after your shaving? Grim. Mass, content; but chill be poll’d first, ere I sing. Jack. Nay, that shall not need; you are poll’d near enough for this time. Grim. Go to then lustily, I will sing in my man’s voice: Chave a troubling base buss. Jack. You are like to bear the bob, for we will give it: Set out your bussing base, and we will quiddle upon it. [Grim singeth Buss. Jack sings. Too nidden and too nidden. Will sings. Too nidden and toodle toodle doo nidden; Is not Grim the collier most finely shaven? Grim. Why, my fellows, think ich am a cow, that you make such toying? Jack. Nay, by ’r Lady, you are no cow, by your singing; Yet your wife told me you were an ox. Grim. Did she so? ’tis a pestens quean,[125] she is full of such mocks. But go to, let us sing out our song merrily.

Jack. Such barbers God send you at all times of need. Will. That can dress you [so] finely, and make such quick speed; Jack. Your face like an inkhorn now shineth so gay— Will. That I with your nostrils of force must needs play, With too nidden and too nidden. Jack. With too nidden and todle todle doo nidden. Is not Grim the collier most finely shaven? Will. With shaving you shine like a pestle of pork.[126] Jack. Here is the trimmest hog’s flesh from London to York. Will. It would be trim bacon to hang up awhile. Jack. To play with this hoglin of course I must smile, With too nidden and too nidden. Will. With too nidden and todle, &c. Grim. Your shaving doth please me, I am now your debtor. Will. Your wife now will buss you, because you are sweeter. Grim. Near would I be polled, as near as cham shaven. Will. Then out of your jerkin needs must you be shaken. With too nidden and too nidden, &c. Grim. It is a trim thing to be wash’d in the court. Will. Their hands are so fine, that they never do hurt. Grim. Me-think ich am lighter than ever ich was. Will. Our shaving in the court hath brought this to pass. With too nidden and too nidden. Jack. With too nidden and todle todle doo nidden. Is not Grim the collier most finely[127] shaven? Grim. This is trimly done: now chill pitch my coals not far hence, And then at the tavern shall bestow whole tway pence. [Exit Grim. Jack. Farewell, [by] Cock. Before the collier again do us seek, Let us into the court to part the spoil, share and share [a]like. Will. Away then. [Exeunt.

Grim. Out alas, where shall I make my moan? My pouch, my benters, and all is gone; Where is that villain that did me shave? H’ ath robbed me, alas, of all that I have.

Snap. Who crieth so at the court-gate? Grim. I, the poor collier, that was robbed of late. Snap. Who robbed thee? Grim. Two of the porter’s men that did shave me. Snap. Why, the porter’s men are no barbers. Grim. A vengeance take them, they are quick carvers. Snap. What stature were they of? Grim. As little dapper knaves, as they trimly could scoff. Snap. They are lackeys, as near as I can guess them. Grim. Such lackeys make me lack; an halter beswinge them! Cham undone, they have my benters too. Snap. Dost thou know them, if thou seest them? Grim. Yea, that I do. Snap. Then come with me, we will find them out, and that quickly. Grim. I follow, mast tipstaff; they be in the court, it is likely. Snap. Then cry no more, come away. [Exeunt.