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 THE TEMPI e T>RJMJTISTS 
 THE RETURN FROM PARNASSUS
 
 Previous Volumes in the Series 
 
 THE TEMPLE DRAMATISTS 
 
 Elizabethan Section 
 Webster's Duchess of Malfi. 
 Marlowe's Edward II. 
 Marlow^e's Doctor Faustus. 
 Jonson's Every Man in his Humour. 
 Arden of Faversham. 
 Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdess. 
 The Two Noble Kinsmen. 
 Edward III. (Pseudo-Shakespearean). 
 Beaumont and Fletcher's Philaster. 
 Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle. 
 The Merry Devil of Edmonton. 
 Kyd's Spanish Tragedy. 
 Heywood's Woman Killed with Kindness. 
 Greene's Tragical Reign of Selimus. 
 Otway's Venice Preserved. 
 Farquhar's Beaux-Stratagem. 
 Udall's Ralph Roister Doister. 
 Dekker's Old Fortunatus. 
 Massinger's New Way to Pay Old Debts, 
 The Return from Parnassus. 
 Ford's Broken Heart. (Shortly.) 
 Modern Section 
 Sheridan's School for Scandal. 
 Sheridan's The Rivals. 
 Sheridan's The Critic. 
 Goldsmith's She Stoops to Conquer. 
 Shelley's Prometheus Unbound. 
 Classical Section 
 The Prometheus Bound of iEschylus. 
 
 (Greek Text .-»nd Translation.) 
 
 Sq. or. i6mo, cloth, is. net ; leather, is. 6d. net per vol.
 
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 'HE NEVER SINCE DURST NAME APIECE OF CHEESE, 
 TH0U6H CHESHIRE SEEMS TO PRIVILEGE HIS NAME'
 
 THE RETURN \ 
 FROM PARNASSUS 
 
 or 
 
 THE SCOURGE 
 OF SIMONY 
 
 Edited with Introduction, Notes 
 
 and Glossary by 
 OLIPHANT SMEATON 
 
 J. M. DENT AND CO. 
 
 ALDINE house: LONDON 
 1905
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 The Character of the Play. Elizabethan drama has many 
 vexed problems upon which scholars have expended time and 
 trouble incalculable without really advancing these questions any 
 appreciable distance. The Return from Parnassus is a case in 
 point. 
 
 The play is the third and last of three, now called ' the Par- 
 nassus Group,' and is especially interesting and important because 
 throwing light on certain facts in connection with Shakespeare's 
 life. The Retiirti from Parnassus, Pt. II., for many years stood 
 alone like a misshapen torso. The first two parts of the trilogy 
 were esteemed irretrievably lost, no one seemingly being able to 
 attach the references in Pt. II. to any of the existing dramas in 
 Elizabethan literature, nor to identify the characters satirised. 
 In 1886, however, the Rev. W. D. Macray, the cultured and 
 scholarly librarian of the Bodleian at Oxford, while pursuing 
 some researches in the vast bat chaotic collection of Thomas 
 Heame, came across the long-lost plays, and at once gave them 
 to the public. The first of these is styled The Pilgrimage to 
 Parnassus, the second, The Return from Parnassus^ Pt. /., 
 while the third is called The Return from Parnassus, Pt. II., 
 or the Scourge of Simony. That these at one time were closely 
 associated there can be no doubt, because the three parts have 
 vii 
 
 Q.a^'v^ t^/i
 
 INTRODUCTION The Return 
 
 several characters in common, while certain of the personages 
 in the third play refer to things that were said and done in the 
 first and second. This much may, therefore, be affirmed at the 
 outset, that the three plays had a common origin, were inspired, 
 at least in the first issues or drafts of the pieces, by the same 
 aims, and, finally, were illustrative of the same preferences 
 and prejudices. 
 
 Origin — the War of the Players. I prefer to use the 
 word 'origin' in place of 'author' because I have the mis- 
 fortune to differ from all preceding writers on this subject, in 
 maintaining the play or plays to be the work not of any one 
 writer, but rather of a group of dramatists which owed its origin 
 to that bitter antagonism which prevailed for some years between 
 Ben Jonson, supported by a small circle of friends, on the one 
 side, and Marston, Daniel, Chettle, and Munday, supported by 
 Dekker, on the other. Gradually most of the leading play- 
 writers of the day were at one time or another drawn into the 
 quarrel, which was waged with varying fortunes, and one 
 of the curious features of the war w-as that some who began 
 on one side, at the end of the conflict were found ranged on the 
 other. 
 
 How the Quarrel Began.' Most scholars who have 
 examined the subject with care, agree that two passages in 
 Marston's Satires were the cause of the misunderstanding. 
 In these Marston applies the title ' Torquatus ' - to Jonson, 
 
 ' For an exhaustive and accurate study of ' The War of the 
 Theatres,' see Professor Penniman's volume bearing the above 
 title, among the publications of the University of Pennsylvania. 
 
 - Titus Manlius Torquatus, a Roman consul, so called because 
 he took the Spolia opium from the Gaulish leader.
 
 from Parnassus introduction 
 
 because the name meant, as Penniman says, ' one who wore 
 something rovmd the neck.' The sting lay in the * something' 
 implied. Jonson, as is well known, had killed a man in a 
 duel, and, on being found guilty, only saved himself from the 
 gallows by claiming the right of ' neck-shrift,' under which 
 statute, if he were able to prove himself a clerk * by reading 
 a verse from Holy Writ,' his life was saved. Jonson did this ; 
 therefore the name ' Torquatus ' referred to his having the rope, 
 figuratively speaking, round his neck, when he saved himself by 
 * conning his neck- verse.' Accordingly Marston, in the preface 
 to his Satires, ' To those that seem Judiciall Perusers,' says, ' I 
 wrote the first Satire in some places too obscure, in all places 
 mislyking me. Yet when by some scurvy chaunce it shall come 
 into the late perfumed fist of judicial Torquatus (that like some 
 rotten stick in a troubled water hath gotte a great deale of 
 barmie froth to stick to his sides), I know he will vouchsafe 
 it, some of his new-minted epithets (as reall, intrinsicate, 
 Delphicke) when in my conscience he understand not the least 
 part of it.' The second passage occurs in Satire xi. of the 
 Scourge of Villanie^ and reads — 
 
 * Come along. Jack, room for a vaulting skip. 
 Room for Torquatus, that ne'er oped his lip 
 But in prate of pommado reversa, 
 Of the nimbling, tumbling Angelica. 
 Now, on my soul, his very intellect 
 Is nought but a curvetting Sommerset.' 
 
 From these two satirical references ' the War of the Theatre^ ' 
 
 may be said to have arisen, in which nearly every dramatist of 
 
 ix
 
 INTRODUCTION The Return 
 
 nole took part. Certainly Ben Jonson deserved all he got. He 
 was jealous and irritable, envious of the success of every popular 
 favourite, and Marston's castigation was called forth by Jonson's 
 gross attack, in Every Man in his Htunonr, on Samuel Daniel, 
 who, as Penniman rightly says, ' had succeeded to the position 
 held by Spenser who was virtually poet laureate.' Under the 
 character of Master Matthew, Jonson had satirised Daniel, who 
 was not only a popular favourite, but was respected by all his 
 contemporaries. Marston, whose friendship with Daniel was of 
 some standing, took up the cudgels on his friend's behalf, first 
 in the passages in the Scourge of Villanie, to which attention 
 has been called, and then in Histrioinastix, in which, under the 
 character ' Chrisoganus,' Jonson is bitterly satirised. The latter 
 replied in Every Man Out of his Huniotir (1599), in which as 
 ' Carlo Buffone,' Marston is held up to ridicule as ' a public, 
 scurrilous, and profane jester ; . . . his religion is railing, and 
 his discourse ribaldry.' 
 
 Not content with this, Jonson introduces two other characters, 
 Clove and Orange, who are brought in for the sole purpose of 
 talking and ridiculing certain unusual words used by Marston 
 in the Scourge of Villanie and Histrioniastix. ' Orange,' by 
 many critics, has been identified with Dekker. Whether this 
 is so or not, one thing is certain, that, in some way or another 
 unknown, Dekker was now drawn into the dispute. Fleay 
 thought that Jonson did not assail the latter until he heard that 
 Dekker had been retained to write Saiiroinastix, and Penniman 
 supports this view. It has the merit of probability to 
 recommend it. Then came Patient Grissil (1600) by Dekker, 
 in which Jonson has been thought to be satirised under 
 the character of ' Emulo, the lath, lime, and hair man, with his
 
 from Parnassus introduction 
 
 absurd gallimaufry of language ' ; followed by Marston's Jack 
 Druni's Entertainment (i6oo), wherein, as ' Monsieur John fo. 
 de King,' Jonson is ridiculed. ' Although to us (says Penniman) 
 the character of Monsieur John fo. de King does not seem to 
 resemble Jonson, yet stage business and mimicry were probably 
 introduced in presenting these plays, so that to the audience it 
 was perfectly clear who was represented.' It was now Jonson's 
 turn, and in Cynthia's Revels (1601) he retaliated upon his 
 critics, satirising Marston, Daniel, Lodge, and Munday as 
 Anaides, Hedon, Asotus, and Amorphus, Dekker being 
 mysteriously spared the lash. Poetaster (1601) succeeded, 
 which is Jonson's sole avowed reply to the attacks made on 
 him by other writers. Purely a satiric piece, it relies solely for 
 its dramatic interest on its sketches of character, the scene being 
 laid in Rome in the days of Augustus ; while the originals of 
 Horace (Jonson), Crispinus (Marston), and Demetrius (Dekker), 
 can be easily recognised. 
 
 Satiromastix (1601) came next, being Dekker's retort to 
 Jonson's Foetastet, and is an unsparing castigation of Jonson, 
 being doubtless made more effective still by ' stage business,' in 
 which Jonson's personal appearance and eccentricities would be 
 caricatured. Satiromastix was followed by Marston's What 
 You ^/7/ (probably written early in 1602), in which Jonson is 
 satirised under the title of Quadratus ; and in this play there 
 is more direct personality used than had been the case pre- 
 viously, as, for example, when Lampatho (Marston) says of 
 (Quadratus (Jonson), ' I'll make Greatness quake, I'll tan the 
 hide of thick-skin'd Hugeness,' a hit at Jonson's excessive cor- 
 pulence ; also this other remark by Laverdure when Quadratus 
 is announced—' I'll not see him now, on my soul; he's in his 
 xi
 
 INTRODUCTION The Return 
 
 old perpetuana suit,' a reference to the customary slovenliness 
 and untidiness of Jonson's dress. Last on the list of plays which 
 were associated with the * War of the Theatres ' is The Return 
 ^rom Parnassus^ the one we now propose to study in detail. 
 
 Date of Composition : the Trilogy. In marshalling the 
 arguments affirmatory of the date of the Return from Parnassus, 
 Pt. II. y we must ever keep the fact in remembrance that the 
 play is the third and last division of a trilogy, which was acted 
 probably more than once in its entirety at St. John's College, 
 Cambridge, and that more than one reference occurs in the 
 Return, Pt. II., to sayings and doings chronicled in the other 
 parts. This is proved by the lines (Prologue, 75 ff.) — 
 
 ' In scholars' fortunes twice forlorn and dead, 
 Twice hath our weary pen erst laboured, 
 Making them pilgrims in Parnassus Hill, 
 Then penning their return with ruder quill. 
 Now we present unto each pitying eye, 
 The Scholars' progress in their misery.' 
 
 The first question is, What was the precise year in which our 
 play was represented ? The following are the facts which are 
 supplied by the internal evidence of the piece itself: (i) As Bel- 
 viderc was entered at Stationers' Hall, August 11, 1600, The 
 Return from Parnassus, Pt. II., must have been represented 
 on a date subsequent to that. (2) It was a Christmas toy 
 written for the Yuletide celebrations of 1601, at St. John's 
 College, Cambridge, or for the New Year rejoicings of 1602, as 
 is proved by the questions put by Sir Raderic to Immerito, as to 
 the Dominical letters. The letter for 1601 was * D,' and for 
 xii
 
 from Parnassus introduction 
 
 1602 was ' C,' and the date is still further corroborated by the 
 references to the Siege of Ostend and the Irish Rebellion, both 
 of which were in progress at the time. 
 
 The Pilgrimage to Parnassus and the Return from Parnassus, 
 Pt. /., have as we have already stated been reclaimed for us by 
 the Rev. W. D. Macray, of the Bodleian Library. In the in- 
 troduction to his admirable edition of these three plays, he 
 says : — 
 
 ' The first two comedies are now printed from a MS. preserved in one 
 of Thomas Hearne's volumes of miscellaneous collections in the Bodleian 
 Library. With a true sense of the possible value to others if not to himself, 
 of all remnants of earlier times, of the very rags of writings, Hearne (who in 
 the words of his self-written epitaph " studied and preserved antiquities" in 
 a way for which we of later generations can never be too grateful), stored 
 up all kinds of papers, binding them together just as they came to his 
 hands in most admired confusion. . . . The MS. consists of twenty folio 
 leaves (besides one outside leaf), written by a copyist, who, as evidently, 
 had sometimes been unable to read, |or too careless to read his original 
 correctly.' 
 
 The three pieces, therefore, albeit eventually played as one 
 consecutive work were composed at different times, but the 
 evidence on which we must rely for the settlement of this point 
 is largely of an internal character. 
 
 The Pilgrimage to Parnassus: — This was probably 
 written, as Mr. Macray says, without any thought of the succeed- 
 ing parts being ultimately appended, and was, like the other 
 two parts, performed as a Christmas or New Year entertainment, 
 in all likelihood in 1598-99. In the Prologue the statement is 
 made that the work had been produced in three days — 
 
 * If you'll take three days' study in good cheer, 
 
 Our Muse is blest that ever she came here.' 
 
 xiii
 
 INTRODUCTION The Return 
 
 The action ot all the parts is slight to a degree, recalling as 
 Ward says, ' Many a time-honoured allegorical fancy of which 
 an idea of a pilgrimage serves as a basis. The plot is so con- 
 structed that, while it served for the single play, by a little 
 expansion it could be made to do duty for the trilogy. i*hilo- 
 musus and Studioso having determined to make a pilgrimage to 
 ' green Parnassus Hill,' old Consiliodorus, the father of the first 
 and the uncle of the other, takes occasion to give them some 
 sage advice taken, he tells them, out of the fund of his own 
 painful experience. He applauds their determination to go on 
 pilgrimage, but warns them that if they would have a joyful 
 time, they * must be wary pilgrims by the way, and not trust 
 each glozing flattering vein, warning them also against the 
 graceless boys that feed the tavern with their idle coin.' The 
 two youths accordingly begin their journey or pilgrimage to 
 Parnassus, first travelling through the land of the Trivitim, 
 otherwise ' Logic Land,' with regard to which Studioso says 
 he has got Jack Seton's map to direct them through that ' island ' 
 which is ' much like Wales, full of craggie mountains and thornie 
 vallies, and in which there are two desperate robbers, named 
 Genus and Species, which take captive every true man's inven- 
 tion.' Here they meet Madido, the wine-bibber, who, on being 
 asked to travel with them to Parnassus, and of Helicon's pure 
 stream to drink his fill, replies — 
 
 ' Zounds ! I travel to Parnassus ! I tell thee it is not a pilgrimage for good 
 wits ; if I drink of that puddled water of Helicon in a company of lean 
 Lenton Shadows, let me for a punishment converse with a single bear 
 so long as I live, there's no true Parnassus but the third loft in a wine 
 tavern, nor true Helicon but a cup of brown bastard ' — 
 
 and who undertakes that, if he cannot with a quart of burnt sack 
 xiv
 
 from Parnassus introduction 
 
 beside him, make a better poem than Kinsayder's Satires, Lodge's 
 Fig far Momus, Bastard's Epigra!}is, Lichfield's Tri?nining of 
 Nasky ' I'll give my head to any good fellow to make a viemento 
 inori of. ' 
 
 Philomusus was almost won to cleave unto Madido, but was 
 rescued by Studioso. The pilgrims next come into ' the Land 
 of Rhetoric,' where — 
 
 *the birds delight the morning air 
 With pretty tuneful notes and artless lays. 
 Ifark shrill Don Cicero, how sweet he sings, 
 See how the groves wonder at his sweet note ; 
 I like this grassy diapered green earth, 
 Here tender feet may travel a whole day.' 
 
 Here they meet Stupido, a type of the Puritan scholar, with no 
 mind above the dry bones of learning, and who has been at- 
 tracted by Genevan Catechisms and the like ; also Amoretto, 
 the wanton sensualist, who persuades them to become Venus's 
 servitors, and to — ' Crop you the joys of youth while that you 
 may.' But such v/anton pleasures soon disgust the pilgrims — 
 though their experiences in the toils of pleasure make philosophy 
 appear harsh and severe. They next meet Ingenioso, who has 
 returned from Parnassus and declares it was all a fraud, that 
 he had 'burned his books, split his pen, rent his paper, and 
 cursed the cozening hearts that brought me up to no better for- 
 tune.' He wishes them to do the same. But they have nearly 
 completed their four years' travel — the time usually occupied 
 in preparing for a University degree — Parnassus is at hand, 
 and the pilgrims press on up its slopes to stretch themselves 
 with Phoebus by the Muse's sacred springs, where — 
 XV
 
 INTRODUCTION The Return 
 
 ' we will sit free from all envy's rage 
 And scorn each earthly Gullio of this age.' 
 
 The Return from Parnassus, Part I. This part was 
 in all likelihood added when the author or authors saw the 
 success which had attended the Pilgrimage. In i. i. 62 we are 
 informed that the Pilgrimage has lasted seven years, for old Con- 
 siliodorus, in despatching letters to his son and nephew by 
 Leonard, the carrier, says — 
 
 ' Seven times the earth in wanton livery 
 Hath deckt herself to meet her blushing love, 
 Since I two scholars to Parnassus sent, 
 The place of solace and true merriment.' 
 
 Then we are introduced to the 'two scholars,' who, alas, have 
 found that the ' privileges of Parnassus ' are more abstract than 
 concrete in quality, and appear bewailing their folly in setting 
 out on a pilgrimage to the abodes of deities who exhibit so 
 wanton a neglect of their worshippers. They then resolve ' to 
 wander unto the w^orld to reap their fortunes wheresoever they 
 may grow,' whether in some thatched cottage or country hall, 
 some porch, or belfry, or scrivener's stall, which may yield 
 a harbour to their wandering heads. They are naturally 
 deeply depressed at the result of their pilgrimage hitherto, 
 and long for the presence of ' Ingenioso, that lad of jollity.' 
 Opportunely he appears, expressing as before his increasing 
 disgust with Parnassus, stating that ' Wit is but a phantasm and 
 idea, a quarrelling shadow that will seldom dwell in the same 
 room with a full purse.' The friends after some conversation, in 
 which Ingenioso gives them a few maxims of worldly-wise utility, 
 
 xvi
 
 from Parnassus introduction 
 
 separate to pursue their fortunes, but arrange to meet anon at 
 the Sign of the Sun. 
 
 Ingenioso calls upon a patron, whose name is not given, to 
 whom he dedicates his poem, and receives in return two groats, 
 with the remark that Homer had scarce so much bestowed on 
 him in all his lifetime. The three friends meet at the tavern 
 and falling in with Luxurio, another deserter from the Muse's 
 cohorts, they all decide to forsake the ' flowery slopes of Parnassus ' 
 for London, Luxurio being taken with them in order that his 
 witty sallies might shorten the road, his creditors meantime 
 being left to bewail his levanting. 
 
 The next scene shows Philomusus, clad in a black frieze coat 
 and with his keys and spade ' the ensigns of the sexton,' meeting 
 with Studioso who has become tutor to a lad who bullies him, 
 and for whom he has to discharge all the most menial offices. 
 Neither of the friends keep their situations long, but we are 
 entertained with another adventure of Ingenioso's with a new 
 patron-gull, named GuUio. This personage, who is an early 
 example of some of Jonson's favourite characters, is convinced 
 that he possesses all the talents to which man can be heir, but 
 does not care to weary himself by exercising them too frequently. 
 Accordingly he invites Ingenioso to supply him with verses to 
 palm off as his own, * written in two or three divers veins — 
 Chaucer's, Gower's, and Mr. Shakespeare's,' whereupon he 
 begins to rhapsodise on * sweet Mr. Shakespeare,' and quotes 
 the first two lines of Venus and Adonis, a strong testimony to 
 its amazing popularity at the time. He also shows acquaintance 
 with Romeo and Juliet. But Gullio becomes an intolerable 
 nuisance with his overweening conceit, and Ingenioso after 
 quarrelling with him and styling his erstwhile patron * a base carl 
 xvii A'''
 
 INTRODUCTION The Return 
 
 clothed in a satin suit, the scorn of all good wits, the ague of 
 all soldiers ' — that patron by the way who but a short time 
 before he had extolled as ' Sans compare, never was so melli- 
 fluous a wit joined to so pure a phrase, such comely gesture, 
 such gentleman-like behaviour,' betakes himself to London, 
 where the vocation of a corrector of the press ' Shall keep me 
 from base beggary,' while Studioso and Philomusus declare they 
 will become perverts to Rome, and obtain the bribe given in 
 such cases. Thus ends the first part of the Retuyn from Far- 
 nassics. 
 
 Return from Parnassus, Part II.:— As the text of the 
 piece is before the reader I do not intend to give the outlines of 
 the action with the same degree of fulness, as has been done 
 in the case of the other two parts. Suffice to say, that, although 
 a knowledge of what had transpired in the two preceding plays 
 is helpful in order to understand some of the allusions made 
 by Ingenioso, Studioso and Philomusus, the Second Pari o 
 the Return from Parnassus is in a measure a dramatic integer. 
 In other words, its action is sufficiently rounded off (i) to present 
 a tolerably symmetrical plot which turns upon the question who 
 will receive the benefice from Sir Raderic, and (2) whether the 
 two pilgrims will succeed in making a living when they essay 
 the vocations of a physician and his man, then of fiddlers, and 
 finally of actors. In each and all they fail, or they realise that 
 they are unfit for the profession, as in music, or that the 
 profession is unfit for them as in the case of the stage. 
 Characters are introduced which have no very direct influence 
 on the progress of the action of the piece, as, for instance, 
 Judicio and Prodigo. This much, however, may be said, that 
 no small degree of skill in dramatic art is shown in rendering 
 xviii
 
 from Parnassus introduction 
 
 Part II. at once the conclusion of the trilogy and a fairly 
 artistic whole in itself. The conclusion come to by all the 
 Pilgrims to Parnassus is that the life of the Scholar is one of 
 misery, unless he be one of those whom Fortune favours with 
 her smile. They have run through many callings, yet have 
 thriven by none. Studioso, Philomusus, Ingenioso, Academico, 
 Furor Poeticus, and Phantasma, each represent some specific 
 intellectual gift, but no one is favoured more than another by 
 Dame Fortune, and they have all to endure the mortification, as 
 in the case of Academico, of seeing a clown like Immerito 
 presented to a benefice which should have been given to him, 
 simply because Stercutio, Immerito's father, is a wealthy 
 clodhopper who does not stint his bribes through any dread 
 of a charge of simony, but boldly buys his son into his benefice. 
 In this way the second title of the part. The Scourge of Simony, 
 is justified. Finally, the friends and pilgrims realising that 
 the world is always going more decidedly against them, resolve 
 to give up the struggle, Studioso and Philomusus determine 
 to turn to the Arcadian simplicity of a shepherd's life. 
 
 * We have run through many lives yet thrive by none, 
 Poor in content and only rich in moan ; 
 A Shepherd's life thou know'st I wont admire, 
 Turning a Cambridge apple by the fire ; 
 To live in humble dale we now are bent 
 Spending our days in fearless merriment,' 
 
 Could any difference be greater than existed even then 
 
 between the ideal and the reality — between the pastoral life 
 
 as pictured by the poets, and that which was really the lot 
 
 xix
 
 INTRODUCTION The Rctum 
 
 of the shepherds in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries? 
 Ingenioso, Furor Poeticus, and Phantasma determine to retire 
 to the ' Isle of Dogs,' the true home of unrestrained invective, 
 as is aptly remarked by Mr. Ward. Such is the outline of the 
 action of Part II. 
 
 The Characters : — I think it will be admitted by any one 
 who carefully studies the three plays, that in the last of the 
 trilogy, the writer or writers have not only gained confidence in 
 composition, but have acquired a marked accession to their 
 satiric power. In other words, Part II. of the Return is by far 
 the most sarcastic part of the three. In the first two plays 
 the characters are more ludicrously farcical than satiric in 
 conception and development. But no sooner have we begun 
 to read the third part than a change is apparent. The prologue 
 throughout abounds in home thrusts upon the spectators, even 
 when begging for ^z. plaudit e^^ for who but they themselves had 
 neglected the scholar? 
 
 * Refined wits, your patience is our bliss, 
 Too weak our scene : too great your judgment is. 
 To you we seek to show a scholar's state ; 
 His scorned fortunes ; his unpilied fate. 
 To you ! for if you did not scholars bless, 
 Their case (poor case) were too too pitiless, 
 You shade the muses under fostering, 
 And make them leave to sigh and learn to sing.' 
 
 The opening lines also of the play arc indicative of its 
 tenour. After quoting from Juvenal, Ingenioso, says : 
 XX
 
 from Parnassus introduction 
 
 ' Aye, Juvenal, thy jerking hand is good, 
 Not gently laying on, but fetching blood ; 
 So surgeon-like thou doth with cutting heal 
 Where naught but lancing can the wound avail.' 
 
 A cursory perusal of the three parts will suffice to show 
 that, while many of the characters are peculiar only to the 
 several plays, others run through the whole trilogy. Of the 
 latter, Philomusus, Studioso, and Ingenioso appear in all three. 
 Consiliodorus, father of Philomusus and uncle of Studioso, 
 appears in the Pilgrimage to Parnassus, and in the Rehirn, 
 Pt. I. Amoretto in the Pilgrimage and in the second part of the 
 RettirUy though the two presentations of the character differ 
 most materially the one from the other, he of the Pilgrifnage 
 being a lusty youth, full of love's boldness and defiance of all 
 rivals, while the Amoretto of the Return, Pt. II., is a trifling 
 coward with never a redeeming vice save covetousness to make 
 him human. But of him more anon. 
 
 Ingenioso has by Fleay and others, been identified with 
 Nash. Though there are unquestionably points of resemblance 
 between the latter and Ingenioso, I cannot wholly agree with 
 the identification. There are certain difficulties which would 
 need to be explained away, before one could accept Fleay's 
 statement : — * Ingenioso, young Juvenal, who carries the vinegar 
 bottle, sells Danter a libel on Cambridge, is an inventor of 
 slight prose, satirises the Recorder, takes refuge in the 
 Isle of Dogs, is too clearly Thomas Nash to need further 
 comment.' Now Nash albeit he was a satirist, and wrote a 
 play the Isle of Dogs, was something more than the mere 
 vitriol-scatterer, Mr. Fleay would make him out to be if 
 
 xxi
 
 INTRODUCTION The Return 
 
 Ingenioso were to be esteemed his likeness. To my mind Gabriel 
 Harvey would suit the points of identification better than any 
 other writer. For be it noted as regards Ingenioso the satire is 
 rather kindly fun than bitter condemnation, as in the case of 
 ' Furor Poeticus.' That the character would not suit what we 
 know of Nash becomes additionally apparent when Ingenioso 
 pronounces a criticism on the dead Nash, which the writer 
 or writers of the piece could scarcely have put into Ingenioso's 
 mouth had Nash been the prototype of the character. 
 
 Furor Poeticus, another satirist, is a type of that sort of 
 censor moriun which looks not or reeks not where his blows 
 may fall provided they strike something. His ' very terrible 
 roaring muse ' and his ' high tiptoe strutting poesy ' exactly 
 describe the character of Marston, who, as Judicio says — 
 
 ' Methinks he is a ruffian in his style, 
 Withouten bands or garter's ornament ; 
 He quaffs a cup of Frenchman's Helicon, 
 Then roister-doister in his oily terms. 
 Cuts, thrusts, and foins, at whomsoe'er he meets, 
 And strews about Ram-Alley meditations.' 
 
 Further ' Furor Poeticus ' goes to live in the Isle oj Dogs, i.e., 
 among the lawyers, this being another point of identification 
 with Marston, who was a member of the Temple. The 
 strongest point in favour of the contention, however, lies in 
 similarity between the style affected by Marston and that given 
 to Furor in the play before us. One only needs to compare 
 the diction of Furor with that of Marston in his Satires to see 
 the resemblance.
 
 from Parnassus introduction 
 
 Phantasma, the third satirist, is considered by Fleay to be 
 Sir John Davies, among whose epigrams are some which 
 to my mind exhibit points of affinity with Amoretto's cha- 
 racter. Take that on Publius : — 
 
 ' Publius, a student at the Common-law, 
 Oft leaves his books and for his recreation 
 To Paris Garden doth himself withdraw, 
 Where he is ravisht with such delectation 
 As down among the bears and dogs he goes. 
 Where, while he skipping cries, " to head to head," 
 His satin doublet and his velvet hose 
 Are all with spittle from above bespread ; 
 When he is like his father's country hall ; 
 Stinking with dogs and muted all with hawkes. 
 And rightly too on him this filth doth fall 
 Which for such filthy sports his books forsakes, 
 Leaving old Ployden, Dyer, Brooke alone 
 To see old Harry Hunkes and Sackarson.' 
 
 Phantasma satires Amoretto, and Sir John Davies satirised 
 Publius in terms strongly similar. The former does so m 
 scraps of epigram from the Latin poets, while Davies para- 
 phrases without acknowledgment many lines from Horace, 
 Juvenal, Martial, Persius, &c. For example in the one 0/ a 
 Gitll, he writes : — 
 
 * A Gull is he which while he proudly wears 
 A silver hiked rapier by his side. 
 Endures the lies and knocks about the ears 
 Whilst in his sheath his sleeping sword doth hide. 
 
 xxiii
 
 INTRODUCTION The Return 
 
 A Gull is he which wears good handsome clothes, 
 
 And stands, in Presence, stroking up his hair. 
 
 And fills up his imperfect speech with oaths, 
 
 And speaks not one wise word throughout the year. 
 
 But to define a Gull in terms precise, 
 
 A Gull is he which seems and is not wise.' 
 
 If Phantasma be not Sir John Davies, it is hard see for 
 whom the character can be intended. 
 
 Philomusus and Studioso, the son and nephew of Con- 
 siliodorus, are the typical Pilgrims to Parnassus, those men who 
 without originality, or a vein either of genius or of humour 
 calculated to catch public attention, nevertheless plod on, 
 hoping against hope that in some occult way, not very well 
 apparent to themselves even, they will succeed in literature. 
 To them a University degree is considered to cover every 
 other shortcoming, and they persist in keeping their sails set 
 upon the same old academic tack, when already the fact has 
 long been apparent to all, that the breeze of public taste has set 
 in from another quarter of the compass altogether. The 
 characters are drawn with admirable force and vigour, the 
 outlines being clearly differentiated from each other though 
 both personages are cast in the same mould. Fleay identifies 
 Philomusus with Lodge, and Studioso with Drayton, but his 
 arguments though ingenious are scarcely convincing enough to 
 ensure acceptance. 
 
 Academico is another ' pilgrim,' but is the only one who elects 
 to remain in his cell at the University. 
 
 ' Adieu, you gentle spirits, long adieu, 
 Your wits I love and your ill fortunes rue ; 
 
 xxiv
 
 from Parnassus introduction 
 
 I'll haste me to my Cambridge cell again, 
 My fortunes cannot wax, but they may wane.' 
 
 He is one who appears to be a strong Protestant, for he hates 
 * this popish tongue of Latin,' and like Immerito, at whom for 
 the time he was jeering, ' he is as true an Englishman as lives.' 
 Academico is one whose hopes of a benefice have often been 
 raised ' ^ as frequently dashed, and when he appeals to 
 Amoretto it is in such abject terms that even a gull like the 
 latter, pokes fun at him. 
 
 Judicio, the corrector of the press, is evidently intended to be 
 a portrait of some well-known contemporary character whose 
 identity has now been lost to us. Judicio has a pronounced 
 dislike to that crowd of minor singers that were foisting their 
 wares upon the fickle public to the detriment of the greater 
 poets, Spenser, Constable, Daniel, Drayton, Marlowe, Ben 
 Jonson, Shakespeare, whose work while he professes to censure 
 it, he is in reality highly praising. This appears from many 
 of the criticisms passed on the poets cited in the dialogue of 
 which the following may serve as specimens : — 
 
 Or— 
 Or— 
 
 ' Sweet Constable doth take the wandering ear 
 And lays it up in willing prisonment.' 
 
 ' Drayton's sweet muse is like a sanguine dye 
 Able to ravish the rash gazer's eye.' 
 
 ' William Shakespeare, 
 Who loves Adonis' love or Lucrece rape, 
 His sweeter verse contains heart throbbing life, 
 Could not a graver subject him content 
 Without love's foolish lazy languishment.' 
 
 XXV
 
 INTRODUCTION The Return 
 
 Immerito is a capital illustration of that type of clerk which 
 after the Reformation had to be pitchforked into remote country 
 livings if the services of the Church were to be maintained at 
 all. Simony was rife then, and the most unsuitable individuals 
 were obtruded into benefices which otherwise would have stood 
 vacant. Immerito had never been inside a University ; was 
 entirely ignorant of Latin and Greek, but had such a touching 
 self-reliance in his own powers, provided his patron favoured 
 him, as would have provoked a sneer, were it not the outcome 
 of a colossal simplicity. He could do all, if only Sir Raderick 
 would consent to be ' the deficient cause of his preferment,' 
 and his examination by Sir Raderick and the Recorder is a 
 scene of genuine and well-sustained humour. His father 
 Stercutio is also an admirably drawn character, in which 
 greed, ignorance, and boorishness struggle with the ambition 
 to see his son a clerk. Though his money is to him his life's 
 blood, he consents to part with a ' hundred thanks' to moisten 
 the ever arid palm of Amoretto. 
 
 Sir Raderick and Amoretto : — These are the two best 
 drawn characters in the book. The satire in their case is 
 more genial and good-natured, being written with a pen less 
 steeped in gall than is the case with the other dramatis 
 fersonce. The knight is evidently a ponderous country 
 magnate, with an overweening sense of his own importance. 
 He dispenses justice according to the short and ready method 
 of deciding in favour of those who bribe him most liberally. 
 He insists upon having the right morally and socially to live 
 as he pleases, but woebetide the man who attempts to do 
 likewise. Amoretto, to quote Mr. Fleay's analysis, ' is a 
 Cambridge man, a plagiarist, for whom Academico, writes a 
 
 xxvi
 
 from Parnassus introduction 
 
 speech on ihe Queen's Accession Day, November 17th ; he 
 forms his style on Ovid's Ai-t of Love, uses technical hunting 
 terms and other sporting phrases in his conversation, is a 
 member of the Temple, son of Sir Raderick, knows no 
 languages, is satirised by Phantasma (Davies ?), isa " Carpenter 
 of Sonnets," writes of his mistress's sweetness in a most 
 equivocal manner, has been in Italy, is a friend of the Recorder, 
 has a living which he can influence, but is not in holy orders 
 himself.' Fleay thinks that Amoretto is meant for Samuel 
 Daniel, but again we must decline to accord absolute 
 acceptance to this view until the points of identification are 
 more convincing. 
 
 The Recorder : — Tradition affirms this character to be a 
 life-like portrait of Francis Brackyn, Recorder of Cambridge, 
 who, as Mr. Macray states in the preface to his edition of the 
 three plays, incurred extreme unpopularity in the Univei'sity 
 by maintaining the right of the Mayor of the town to take 
 precedence of the Vice Chancellor in certain cases.' 'He had 
 already been satirised in Club-Law, a play acted in Clare Hall 
 in 1597-8, and it is possible he may also be the lawyer who 
 at a later date figures as ignoramus in Ruggles' famous comedy. 
 It may well be that it was on this account that the last part 
 of our trilogy won the greater popularity among the academic 
 auditors to whose sympathies it appealed ; and the prominence 
 given through its second title, The Scourge of Simony, to that 
 portion of the play which represents the lawyer's co-operation 
 with a patron in the sale of an ecclesiastical benefice, makes 
 it also probable that the latter greedy reprobate, Sir Raderick, 
 
 » See Bass Mullinger's University of Cambridge (1535-1625), p. 526. 
 
 xxvii
 
 INTRODUCTION The Return 
 
 may have been some other easily recognised and notorious 
 character of the time.' 
 
 The other personages of the drama, Danter, the printer, the 
 Burgess, a patient of Philomusus, when acting as a physician 
 under the name Theodore, the two pages, the fidlers, are no 
 mere lay figures, but are all incisively differentiated from each 
 other, and possess distinctive idiosyncrasies and qualities. The 
 like may be said about the two actual contemporary personages 
 which are introduced into the play, Burbage and Kempe, the 
 former being the greatest tragic actor of his time, the latter 
 its greatest exponent of broad and low comedy. As far as 
 we know, the characters are true to life and must have gone 
 a long way to render the piece popular. 
 
 Shakespeare and Ben Jonson : — The references made by 
 Burbage and Kempe to Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, and the 
 ' War of the Theatres,' may be regarded as the final word 
 in that great dispute. The tradition has come down to us 
 from Elizabethan times of Jonson's persistent jealousy and 
 depreciation of Shakespeare, yet when we come to examine 
 the evidence, the question of Ben's jealousy of his great rival 
 comes strangely nebulous. The sa.me takes place here. A 
 definite charge is made against Jonson of being a pestilent 
 fellow, and of being so cantankerous that he was constantly 
 quarrelling with his fellow poets, so much so that Shakespeare 
 had to interfere in self-defence and administer a chastisement 
 to Ben that not only silenced the latter, but was admitted to 
 be well merited (Act IV. Sc. iii. 1. i8). ' Why here's our 
 fellow Shakespeare puts them all down, ay, and Ben Jonson 
 too. O, that Ben Jonson is a pestilent fellow. He brought 
 up Horace giving the poets a pill : but our fellow Shakespeare 
 xxviii
 
 from Parnassus introduction 
 
 hath given him a purge that made him bewray his credit.' 
 Now what was this 'purge.' The only play of Shakespeare's 
 that in any degree fits in with the known facts is Troiltis and 
 Cressida, and, as Professor Penniman thinks, there is evidence 
 that seems to point to this play as in some way connected with 
 the quarrel between Marston and Jonson. In the sub-play of 
 Troiliis and Cressida in Hislrioinastix, as revised by Marston, 
 occurs the passage : — 
 
 'The knight his valiant elbow wears, 
 That when he shakes his furious spear 
 The foe in shivering fearful sort 
 May lay him down in death to snort ' — 
 
 which seems a plain reference to Shakespeare, who (as Richard 
 Simpson contended in his School of Shakespeare) was satirised 
 in the main play under the character of Posthaste. In Shake- 
 speare's Troiltis and Cressida occurs the line, ' When rank 
 Thersites opes his masticjaws' which bears a strong resemblance 
 to a reply by the latter to the attack by Marston. On the 
 other hand, however, Shakespeare's play 'was never staled 
 with the stage, never clapper-clawed with the palms of the 
 vulgar ' before its publication in 1609, presumably without 
 the author's consent being asked. Of course it may have 
 been produced at the Universities or at the Inns of Court, 
 and yet the phrase hold true that it had never been ' clapper- 
 clawed by the hands of the vulgar.' There is at least a measure 
 of probability that the passage in our play refers to Troilus 
 and Cressida^ but immediately the next question arises, wherein 
 lay the satire on Jonson? In one passage of his Chronicle of 
 
 xxix
 
 INTRODUCTION The Return 
 
 the English Drama, Fleay considers that Ajax is Jonson, and 
 Thersites Marston ; in another that Ajax is Dekker, Achilles 
 is Jonson, and Thersites is Marston ; while a third theory by 
 him regards Dekker as Thersites. On the other hand, Dr. 
 Cartwright in his Shakespeare and /onson, Dramatic and Wit 
 Cofiibafs declares that ' in Troilus and Cressida the character 
 of Thersites, be it accidental or intentional, is an inimitable 
 caricature of Crites and Horace, that is of Jonson.' After a 
 careful consideration of the evidence pro and con, I am inclined 
 to think that if satire be intended Jonson is satirised in Achilles 
 and Marston in Thersites. 
 
 Authorship : — Owing to the circumstance that the three 
 parts had in no case any name appended to their title page as 
 the author, with the exception of this fact that on a copy of a 
 1606 quarto copy of the play the inscription has been found, 
 'To my Lovinge Smallocke — ^J.D.,' the handwriting of which 
 has been identified as curiously similar to that of the dramatist 
 John Day, conjecture has been left to busy itself with many 
 problems. Personally, I am inclined to think that the acumen 
 of Professor Israel Gollancz has gone far to settle the question. 
 In his communication to Principal Ward, as quoted in vol. ii. 
 p. 641 o{ English Dramatic Literature, he rightly thinks that 
 the key to the problem must be sought for in the prologue 
 to the first part of the Return from Parnassus, There the 
 * Stage-keeper' says : — 
 
 ' That scraping leg, that dopping courtesy, 
 That fawning bow, those sycophants smooth terms 
 Gained our stage much favour did they not ? 
 Surely it made our poet a staid man. 
 XXX
 
 from Parnassus introduction 
 
 Kept his proud neck from baser lambskin's wear, 
 Had like to have made him Senior Sophister. 
 He was fain to take his course by Germany 
 lire he could get a silly poor degree 
 He never since durst name a piece of cheese, 
 Though Cheshire seems to privilege his name.' 
 
 The word ' cheese,' according to the Professor, conceals an 
 allusion to Caius College as pronounced according to the 
 fashion of the sixteenth century, and as John Day was a Caius 
 man, is there not a strong presumption in favour of this writer 
 as the author of the three parts? Certainly the argument is 
 ingenious and so far deserves to be accepted, but I cannot 
 believe that Day was the sole author. Despite the general 
 homogeneity of the trilogy', there are so many minor differences 
 between the three parts in style and in treatment, that one can 
 scarcely admit that the same pen wrote all three. For example, 
 the Prologue, Act I. Sc. i.-ii., seem to reveal a different style 
 from Act I. Sc. iv.-v., Act II. Sc.ii. ; while the scenes w^herein 
 Amoretto appears, look to me to exhibit a difference of 
 treatment from those in which Furor, Ingenioso, Phantasma, 
 Philomusus, and Studioso take part. I am inclined to think 
 that more than one of the University pens took part in it, 
 and that the passage about Shakespeare was a grudging 
 testimony to the extreme popularity of one who had beaten 
 these University pens on their own ground, and was already 
 regarded as the greatest dramatist of the age. 
 
 Previous editions : — The original issue of the second part 
 of the Return from Parnasus took place as a quarto in i6o6, 
 its second impression as a separate publication occurring in 
 xxxi
 
 INTRODUCTION The Return from Parnassus 
 
 April, 1878, by Professor Arber. It had, however, been included 
 by Hawkins in his Origin of the English Drama 1773, and by 
 W. Carew Hazlitt in the Fourth Edition of Dodsley's Old Plays 
 1874-76; while in 1886 the entire trilogy, the Pilgrimage to 
 Parnassus^ the Return from Parnassus, and the Return from 
 Parnassus, Pt. II., were issued from the Clarendon Press, 
 edited by the Rev. W. D. Macray, M.A., F.S.A. 
 
 XXXU
 
 THE RETURN FROM PARNASSUS; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE SCOURGE OF SIMONY
 
 PERSONS OF THE DRAMA 
 
 JUDICIO 
 
 ingenioso 
 
 Danter 
 
 Philomusus 
 
 Studioso 
 
 Furor Poeticus 
 
 Phantasma 
 
 Patient 
 
 RiCHARDETTO 
 
 Theodore, a physician 
 
 BURGESSE, a patient 
 
 JAQUES, a student 
 
 academico 
 
 Amoretto 
 
 Page 
 
 Signer IMMERITO 
 
 Stercutio, father of Immerito 
 
 Sir Frederick or Raderick 
 
 Recorder 
 
 Page 
 
 Prodigo 
 
 Burbage 
 
 KEMP'S 
 
 P'idlers 
 Patient's l\Ian
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 Boy^ Stage-keeper^ Momus, Dejensor. 
 
 Boy. Spectators, we will act a comedy {nonplus). 
 Stage-K. A pox on't, this book hath it not in it, you 
 
 would be whipped, thou rascal : thou must be sitting 
 
 up all night at cards, when thou should be conning 
 
 thy part. 
 Boy. It's all along on you : I could not get my part a 
 
 night or two before, that I might sleep on it. 
 
 [Stage-keeper carrieth the Boy away under his arm. 
 
 Mo. It's even well done, here is such a stir about a 
 scurvy English show. 9 
 
 Defen. Scurvy in thy face, thou scurvy jack, if this com- 
 pany were not — you paltry critic gentleman, you 
 that know what it is to play at primero, or passage ; 
 you that have been student at post and pair, saint 
 and loadam ; you that have spent all your quarter's 
 revenues in riding post one night in Christmas 
 bear with the weak memory of a gamester. 
 
 Mo. Gentlemen, you that can play at noddy, or rather 
 3
 
 THE PROLOGUE The Rctum 
 
 play upon noddles : you that can set up a jest, at 
 primero instead of a rest, laugh at the prologue that 
 was taken away in a voyder. 20 
 
 Defen. What we present I must needs confess is but 
 slubbered invention : if your wisdom obscure the 
 circumstance, your kindness will pardon the sub- 
 stance. 
 
 Mo. What is presented here, is an old musty show, 
 that hath lain this twelvemonth in the bottom of 
 a coal-house amongst brooms and old shoes, an 
 invention that we are ashamed of, and therefore we 
 have promised the copies to the chandlers to wrap 
 his candles in. 30 
 
 Defen. It's but a Christmas toy, and may it please your 
 courtesies to let it pass. 
 
 Mom. It's a Christmas toy indeed, as good a conceit as 
 sloughing hotcockles, or blind-man buff. 
 
 Defen. Some humors you shall see aimed at, if not well 
 resembled. 36 
 
 Mo7n. Humors indeed ; is it not a pretty humor to stand 
 hammering upon two individuum vagum., 2 scholars 
 some whole year. These same Philomuses and 
 Studioso have been followed with a whip and a verse, 
 like a couple of vagabonds, through England and Italy. 
 The Pilgrimage to Parnassus, and the Return from 
 Parnassus, have stood the honest stage-keepers in 
 many a crown's expense ; for links and vizards 
 purchased a sophister a knock, which a club 
 
 4
 
 from Parnassus the prologue 
 
 hindered the butler's box, and emptied the College 
 barrels ; and now unless you know the subject well, 
 you may return home as wise as you came, for 
 this last is the least part of the Return from 
 Parnassus, that is both the first and the last time 
 that the author's wit \y\\\ turn upon the toe in this 
 vein, and at this time the scene is not at Parnassus, 
 that is, looks not good invention in the face. 53 
 
 Defen. If the catastrophe please you not, impute it to the 
 unpleasing fortunes of discontented scholars. 
 
 Mom. For catastrophe there's never a tale in Sir John 
 Mandeville, or Bevis of Southampton, but hath a 
 better turning. 
 
 Stage-K. What, you jeering ass, be gone with a pox. 59 
 
 Mom. You may do better to busy your self in providing 
 beer, for the shew will be pitiful dry, pitiful 
 dry. {Exit. 
 
 No 7?iore of this j I hea7'd the spectators ask for a blank 
 verse. 
 
 What we shew, is but a Christmas jest, 
 Conceive of this, and guess of all the rest : 
 Full like a scholar's hapless fortunes pen'd, 
 Whose former griefs seldom have happy end. 
 Frame as well, we might with easy strain. 
 With far more praise, and with as little pain. 
 Stories of love, where forne the wondring bench, 
 
 5
 
 THE PROLOGUE The Rctum from Parnassus 
 
 The lisping gallant might enjoy his wench ; 70 
 
 Or make some sire acknowledge his lost son, 
 
 Found when the weary act is almost done. 
 
 Nor unto this, nor unto that our scene is bent, 
 
 We only shew a scholar's discontent ; 
 
 In scholars' fortunes twice forlorn and dead, 
 
 Twice hath our weary pen erst laboured. 
 
 Making them pilgrims in Parnassus hill, 
 
 Then penning their return with ruder quill. 
 
 Now we present unto each pitying eye, 
 
 The scholar's progress in their misery. 80 
 
 Refined wits your patience is our bliss, 
 
 Too weak our scene, too great your judgment is. 
 
 To you we seek to shew a scholar's state. 
 
 His scorned fortunes, his unpitied fate. 
 
 To you ; for if you did not scholars bless. 
 
 Their case, (poor case), were too too pitiless. 
 
 You shade the muses under fostering. 
 
 And make them leave to sigh, and learn to sing.
 
 THE RETURN FROM PARNASSUS; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE SCOURGE OF SIMONY 
 
 Publicly acted by the Students in Saint John^s College, 
 in Cambridge. 
 
 ACTUS I 
 SCENA I 
 
 Ingenioso, with Juvenal in his hand. 
 
 Ing. Dificile est, satyra?n non scribere. Na??i quis iniqna 
 Tarn patiens urbis, tarti ferretis ut teneat se ? 
 Ay, Juvenal ; thy jerking hand is good, 
 Not gently laying on, but fetching blood. 
 So surgeon-like thou dost with cutting heal. 
 Where nought but lancing can the wound avail. 
 O suffer me, among so many men. 
 To tread aright the traces of thy pen ; 
 And light my link at thy eternal flame, 
 
 7
 
 ACTi. sc. I. The Return 
 
 Till with it I brand everlasting shame. lo 
 
 On the world's forehead, and with thine own spirit, 
 
 Pay home the world according to his merit. 
 
 Thy purer soul could not endure to see, 
 
 Even smallest spots of base impurity ; 
 
 Nor could small faults escape thy cleaner hands. 
 
 Then foul-faced vice was in his swaddling bands, 
 
 Now, like Antaeus, grown a monster is, 
 
 A match for none but mighty Hercules. 
 
 Now can the world practise in plainer guise. 
 
 Both sins of old and new born villanies. 20 
 
 Stale sins are stole ; now doth the world begin 
 
 To take sole pleasure in a witty sin. 
 
 Unpleasant as the lawless sin has been. 
 
 At midnight rest, when darkness covers sin. 
 
 It's clownish, unbeseeming a young knight. 
 
 Unless it dare outface the glaring light. 
 
 Nor can it nought our gallant praises reap. 
 
 Unless it be done in staring Cheape. 
 
 In a sin-guilty coach not closely pent. 
 
 Jogging along the harder pavement. 30 
 
 Did not fear check my repining sprit, 
 
 Soon should my angry ghost a story write ; 
 
 In which I would new-fostered sins combine, 
 
 Not known erst by truth-telling Aretine.
 
 from Parnassus act i. sc. a. 
 
 SCENA II 
 Ingenioso^ Jttdicio, 
 
 Jud. What, Ingenioso, carrying a vinegar bottle about 
 thee, Hke a great school-boy, giving the world a 
 bloody nose ? 
 
 hig. Faith, Judicio, if I carry the vinegar bottle, it's 
 great reason I should confer it upon the bald-pated 
 world ; and again, if my kitchen want the utensils 
 of viands, it's great reason other men should have 
 the sauce of vinegar ; and for the bloody nose, 
 Judicio, I may chance indeed give the world a 
 bloody nose, but it shall hardly give me a cracked 
 crown, though it gives other poets French crowns. 
 
 Jud. I would wish thee, Ingenioso, to sheath thy pen, for 
 thou canst not be successful in the fray, considering 
 thy enemies have the advantage of the ground. 
 
 Ing. Or rather, Judicio, they have the grounds with 
 advantage, and the French crowns with a pox, and 
 I would they had them with a plague too ; but hang 
 them, swads, the basest corner in my thoughts, is 
 too gallant a room to lodge them in ; but say, 
 Judicio, what news in your press, did you keep 
 any late corrections upon any tardy pamphlets ? 
 
 Jud. Vetere?n tubes re7tovare dolorem, Ingenioso ; what 
 e'er befalls thee, keep thee from the trade of the 
 corrector of the press. 24 
 
 9
 
 ACT I. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 big. Marry so I will, I warrant thee, if poverty press not 
 too much, I'll correct no press, but the press of 
 the people. 
 
 Jiid. Would it not grieve any good spirits to sit a whole 
 month knitting out a lousy, beggarly pamphlet, and 
 like a needy physician to stand whole years, tossing 
 and tumbling, the filth that falleth from so many 
 draughty inventions as daily swarm in our printing- 
 house ? 32 
 
 Ing. Come, I think we shall have you put finger in the 
 eye, and cry, ' O friends, no friends ' ; say man, what 
 new paper hobby-horses, what rattle-babies are come 
 out in your late May morrice dance ? 
 
 Jiid. Fly my rhymes as thick as flies in the sun, I think 
 there be never an ale house in England ; nor any so 
 base a May pole on a country green, but sets forth 
 some poet's petronels or demilances to the paper 
 wars in Paules Churchyard. 41 
 
 big. And well too may the issue of a strong hop learn 
 to hop all over England, when as better wits sit 
 like lame cobblers in their studies. Such barmy 
 heads will always be working, when as sad vinegar 
 wits sit souring at the bottom of a barrel ; plain 
 meteors, bred of the exhalation of tobacco, and the 
 vapors of a moist pot, that soar up into the open 
 air, when as sounder wit keeps below. 49 
 
 Jiid. Considering the furies of the times, I could better 
 endure to see those young can-quaffing hucksters 
 10
 
 from Parnassus act i. sc. 2. 
 
 shoot off their pellets, so they would keep them 
 from these English fiorts-poetarum ; but now the 
 world is come to that pass, that there starts up every 
 day an old goose that sits hatching up those eggs 
 which have been filched from the nest of crows and 
 kestrels : here is a book, Ingenioso ; why to con- 
 demn it to the usual Tyburn of all misliving papers, 
 were too fair a death for so foul an offender. 
 
 Ing. What's the name of it, I pray thee, Judicio ? 60 
 
 Jiid. Look, it's here, ' Belvedere.' 
 
 Ing. What a bellwether in Paules Church-yard, so called, 
 because it keeps a bleating, or because it hath the 
 tinkling bell of so many poets about the neck of it ; 
 what is the rest of the title ? 
 
 Jud. ' The garden of the Muses.' 
 
 Ing. What have we here, the poet's garish gaily bedecked 
 like fore-horses of the parish ? what follows ? 
 
 Jiid. Que??t referent jnuscB^ vivei dwn robora telluSy 
 
 Dum ccplwn stellas, dinn vehit a?nms aquas. 70 
 
 Who blurs fair paper, with foul bastard rhymes. 
 
 Shall live full many an age in latter times ; 
 
 Who makes a ballad for an ale-house door. 
 
 Shall live in future times for ever more. 
 
 Then ( ) thy muse shall live so long, {ita.) 
 
 As drafty ballads to thy praise are sung. 
 
 But what's his device, Parnassus with the sun 
 and the laurel? I wonder this owl dares look on 
 the sun, and I marvel this goose flies not the 
 II
 
 ACT I. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 laurel ; his device might have been better a fool 
 going in to the market place to be seen, with this 
 motto, scrihhnus indocti; or a poor beggar gleaning 
 of ears in the end of harvest, with this word, sua 
 cuiqiie gloria. 84 
 
 J2id. Turn over the leaf, Ingenioso, and thou shalt see 
 the paines of this worthy gentleman ; 'sentences 
 gathered out of all kind of poets, referred to cer- 
 tain methodical heades, profitable for the use of 
 these times, to rhyme upon any occasion at a little 
 warning ' : Read the names. 90 
 
 I?ig. So I will, if thou wilt help me to censure them. 
 Edmund Spenser. Michael Drayton. 
 
 Henry Constable. John Davis. 
 
 Thomas Lodge. John Marston. 
 
 Samuel Daniel. Kit. Marlowe. 
 
 Thomas Watson. 
 
 Good men and true ; stand together ; hear your 
 censure. What's thy judgment of Spenser ? 
 
 Jud. A sweeter swan than ever song in Po, 
 
 A shriller nightingale than ever blessed, 100 
 
 The prouder groves of self-admiring Rome. 
 Blithe was each valley, and each shepherd proud. 
 While he did chaunt his rural minstrelsie. 
 Attentive was full many a dainty ear ; 
 Nay, hearers hung upon his melting tongue. 
 While sweetly of his Fairy Queen he sung. 
 While to the waters' fall he tuned for fame, 
 
 12
 
 from Parnassus act i. sc. 2. 
 
 And in each bark engraved Eliza's name. 
 
 And yet for all this, unregarding soil 
 
 Unlaced the line of his desired life, 110 
 
 Denying maintenance for his dear relief. 
 
 Careless care to prevent his exequy, 
 
 Scarce deigning to shut up his dying eye. 
 
 Ing. Pity it is that gentler wits should breed, 
 
 Where thickskin chufifes laugh at a scholar's need. 
 But softly may our honour's ashes rest. 
 That lie by merry Chaucer's noble chest. 
 
 But I pray thee proceed briefly in thy censure, 
 that I may be proud of my self, as in the first, so in 
 the last, my censure may jump with thine ; Henry 
 Constable, S[amuel] D[aniel], Thomas Lodge, 
 Thomas Watson. 122 
 
 Jud. Sweete Constable doth take the wondering ear, 
 And lays it up in willing prisonment ; 
 Sweet honey dropping D[aniel] doth wage 
 War with the proudest big Italian, 
 That melts his heart in sugared sonneting. 
 Only let him more sparingly make use 
 Of others' wit, and use his own the more ; 
 That well may scorn base imitation. 130 
 
 For Lodge and Watson, men of some desert, 
 Yet subject to a critic's marginal. 
 Lodge for his oar in every paper boat, 
 He that turns over Galen every day, 
 To sit and simper Euphues' legacy. 
 
 13
 
 ACT I. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 Tng. Michael Drayton. 
 
 Jud. Drayton's sweet muse is like a sanguine dye, 
 Able to ravish the rash gazer's eye. 
 
 Ing. How ever, he wants one true note of a poet of our 
 times, and that is this, he cannot swagger it well in 
 a tavern, nor domineer in a hothouse. 141 
 
 Jud. John Davis. 
 
 Acute John Davis, I affect thy rhymes. 
 That jerk in hidden charms these looser times : 
 Thy plainer verse, thy unaffected vein, 
 Is graced with a fair and a sweeping train. 
 
 Ing. Lock and Hudson. 
 
 Jud. Lock and Hudson, sleep you quiet shavers, 
 among the shavings of the press, and let your 
 books lie in some old nooks amongst old boots 
 and shoes, so you may avoid my censure. 151 
 
 Ing. Why then clap a lock on their feet, and turn 
 them to commons. 
 John Marston. 
 
 Jud. What, Monsieur Kinsayder, lifting up your leg 
 and pissing against the world t put up, man, put up 
 for shame. 
 
 Methinks he is a ruffian in his style, 
 Withouten bands or garters ornament. 
 He quaffs a cup of Frenchman's Helicon. 160 
 
 Then roister doister in his oily terms. 
 Cuts, thrusts, and foines at whomsoever he meets. 
 And strews about Ram-Ally meditations.
 
 from Parnassus act i. sc. 2. 
 
 Tut' what cares he for modest close-couched terms, 
 
 Cleanly to gird our looser libertines ? 
 
 Give him plain naked words stripped from their shirts, 
 
 That might beseem plain-dealing Aretine : 
 
 Ay ! there is one that backs a paper steed. 
 
 And manageth a pen-knife gallantly ; 
 
 Strikes his poinardo at a button's breadth, 170 
 
 Brings the great battering ram of terms to towns, 
 
 And at first volley of his cannon shot. 
 
 Batters the walls of the old fusty world. 
 
 Ifig. Christopher Marlowe. 
 
 Jud. Marlowe was happy in his buskined muse, 
 Alas ! unhappy in his life and end ; 
 Pity it is that wit so ill should dwell. 
 Wit lent from heaven, but vices sent from hell. 
 
 Ing. Our theatre hath lost, Pluto hath got, 
 
 A tragic penman for a dreary plot. 180 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 
 Jud. The wittiest fellow of a bricklayer in England. 
 
 Ing A mere empiric, one that gets what he hath by 
 observation, and makes only nature privy to what 
 he endites ; so slow an inventor, that he were better 
 betake himself, to his old trade of bricklaying, a 
 bold whoreson, as confident now in making of a 
 book, as he was in times past in laying of a brick. 
 William Shakespeare. 
 
 Jud. Who loves Adonis' love, or Lucrece' rape, 190 
 
 His sweeter verse contains heart-robbing life, 
 
 15
 
 ACT I. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 Could but a graver subject him content, 
 Without loves' foolish lazy languishment. 
 
 Ing, Churchyard. 
 
 Hath not Shore's wife, although a light-skirts she. 
 Given him a chast long -lasting memory? 
 
 Jud. No, all light pamphlets once I finden shall, 
 A Church-yard and a grave to bury all. 
 
 Ing. Thomas Nash. 199 
 
 Ay ! here is a fellow, Judicio, that carried the deadly 
 stock in his pen, whose muse was armed with a 
 gagtooth, and his pen possessed with Hercules' furies. 
 
 Jud. Let all his faults sleep with his mournful chest. 
 And then for ever with his ashes rest. 
 His style was witty, though he had some gall. 
 Something he might have mended, so may all. 
 Yet this I say, that for a mother wit, 
 Few men have ever seen the like of it. 
 
 Inge?iioso reads the rest of the names. 209 
 
 Jud. As for these, they have some of them been the old 
 hedgestakes of the press, and some of them are at 
 this instant the bots and glanders of the printing- 
 house. Fellows that stand only upon terms to 
 serve the turn, with their blotted papers, write as 
 men go to stool, for needs, and when they write, 
 they write as a bear pisses, now and then drop a 
 pamphlet. 217 
 
 Ing. Durum tclum necessitas. Good faith they do as 
 I do, exchange words for money : I have some 
 16
 
 from Parnassus act i. sc. 3. 
 
 traffic this day with Danter, about a little book 
 which I have made, the name of it is a ' Catalogue 
 of Cambridge Cuckolds,' but this Belvedere, this 
 methodical ass, hath made me almost forget my 
 time ; I'll now to Pauls Church-yard, meet me an 
 hour hence, at the sign of the Pegasus, in Cheap- 
 side, and I'll moist thy temples with a cup of 
 claret, as hard as the world goes. \Exit Judicio. 
 
 SCENA III 
 
 Enter Danter the Printer. 
 
 Ing. Danter, thou art deceived ; wit is dearer than thou 
 takest it to be ; I tell thee this libel of Cambridge 
 has much fat and pepper in the nose ; it will sell 
 sheerely underhand, when all these books of Exhorta- 
 tions and Catechisms lie moulding on thy shopboard. 
 
 Dan. It's true ; but good faith, M. Ingenioso, I lost by 
 your last book : and you know there is many one 
 that pays me largely, for the printing of their 
 inventions ; but for all this, you shall have 40 
 shillings, and an odd pottle of wine. 10 
 
 Ing. 40 shillings ? a fit reward for one of your rhumatic 
 
 poets, that beslavers all the paper he comes by, and 
 
 furnishes the Chandlers with waste papers to wrap 
 
 candles in ; but as for me, I'll be paid dear, even 
 
 c 17
 
 ACT I. SC. 4. 
 
 The Return 
 
 for the dregs of my wit ; little knows the world 
 what belongs to the keeping of a good wit in waters, 
 diets, drinks, Tobacco, &c. it is a dainty and costly 
 creature, and therefore I must be paid sweetly : 
 furnish me with money, that I may put my self 
 in a new suit of clothes, and I'll suit thy shop with 
 a new suit of terms ; it's the gallantest child my 
 invention was ever delivered of The title is, a 
 Chronicle of Cambridge Cuckolds ; here a man 
 may see what day of the month such a man's 
 commons were inclosed, and when thrown open, 
 and when any entailed some odd crowns, upon the 
 heirs of their bodies unlawfully begotten ; speak 
 quickly else I am gone. 28 
 
 Dan. Oh this will sell gallantly ; I'll have it whatsoever 
 it cost ; will ye walk on, M. Ingenioso, we'll sit over 
 a cup of wine and agree on it. 
 
 Ing. A cup of wine is as good a Constable as can be, to 
 take up the quarrel betwixt us. \Exeimi. 
 
 SCENA IV 
 
 Philomtisus^ 2?i a Physician^ habit, Studio so, that is 
 Jaqiies^ Man, and Patient. 
 
 Phil. Tit tit tit, non point, nan debet fie?^ phlebotomatio 
 in coitu luncEj here is a Recipe. 
 18
 
 from Parnassus act i. sc. 4. 
 
 Pat. A Recipe ! 
 
 Phil. Nos Gallia non cm-amus qiiantitatem syllabartim ; 
 let me hear how many stools you do make. Adieu, 
 monsieur, adieu, good monsieur ; what, Jaques, 
 // tfy apersonne apres id. 
 
 Stud. No7i. 
 
 Phil. Then let us steal time for this borrowed shape, 
 
 Recounting our unequal haps of late. 10 
 
 Late did the Ocean grasp us in his arms, 
 
 Late did we live within a stranger air ; 
 
 Late did we see the cinders of great Rome, 
 
 We thought that English fugitives there ate 
 
 Gold for restorative, if gold were meat. 
 
 Yet now we find by bought experience, 
 
 That wheresoe'er we wander up and down. 
 
 On the round shoulders of this massy world, 
 
 Or our ill fortunes, or the world's ill eye, 
 
 Forspeak our good, procures our misery. 20 
 
 Stud. So oft the Northern wind with frozen wings 
 Hath beat the flowers that in our garden grew : 
 Thrown down the stalks of our aspiring youth. 
 So oft hath winter nipt our trees fair rind, 
 That now we seem nought but two bared boughs. 
 Scorned by the basest bird that chirps in grove. 
 Nor Rome, nor Rhiems, that wonted are to give, 
 A Cardinal cap, to discontented clerks, 
 That have forsook the home-bred thanked roofs, 
 Yielded us any equal maintenance : 30 
 
 19
 
 ACT I. sc. 4. The Return 
 
 And it's as good to starve 'niongst English swine, 
 As in a foreign land to beg and pine. 
 
 Phil. I'll scorn the world, that scorneth me again. 
 
 Stud. I'll vex the world, that works me so much pain. 
 
 Phil. Fly lame revenging power, the world well weens. 
 
 Stud. Flies have their spleen, each silly ant his teens. 
 
 Phil. We have the words, they the possession have. 
 
 Stud. We all are equal in our latest grave. 
 
 Phil. Soon then : O soon may we both graved be. 
 
 Stud. Who wishes death, doth wrong wise destiny. 40 
 
 Phil. It's wrong to force life-loathing men to breath. 
 
 Stud. It's sin 'fore doomed day to wish thy death. 
 
 Phil. Too late our souls flit to their resting place. 
 
 Stud. Why man's whole life is but a breathing space. 
 
 Phil. A painful minute seems a tedious year. 
 
 Stud. A constant mind eternal woes will bear. 
 
 Phil. When shall our souls their w-earied lodge forgo ? 
 
 Stud. When we have tired misery and woe. 
 
 Phil. Soon may then fates this gale deliver send us ; 
 
 Small woes vex long, great w-oes quickly end us. 50 
 But let's leave this capping of rhymes, Studioso, 
 and follow our late device, that we may maintain 
 our heads in caps, our bellies in provender, and 
 our backs in saddle and bridle ; hitherto we have 
 sought all the honest means we could to live, and 
 now let us dare, aliquid brevibus gyris et carcere 
 dignum: let us run through all the lewd forms of 
 lime-twig purloining villanies : let us prove Cony- 
 
 20
 
 from Parnassus act i. sc. 5. 
 
 catchers, Bawds, or any thing, so we may rub-out. 
 And first my plot for playing the French doctor — that 
 shall hold ; our lodging stands here fitly in Shoe-lane, 
 for if our comings-in be not the better, London may 
 shortly throw an old shoe after us, and with those 
 shreds of French, that we gathered up in our host's 
 house in Paris, we'll gull the world, that hath in 
 estimation foreign physicians, and if any of the hide- 
 bound brethren of Cambridge and Oxford, or any 
 of those stigmatic masters of art, that abused us in 
 times past, leave their own physicians, and become 
 our patients, we'll alter quite the style of them, for 
 they shall never hereafter write, your Lordship's most 
 bounden, but your Lordship's most laxative. 
 
 Stud. It shall be so ; see what a little vermin poverty 
 altereth a whole milky disposition. 
 
 Phil. So then my self straight with revenge I'll sate. 
 
 Stud. Provoked patience grows intemperate. 
 
 SCENA V 
 
 Enter Rtchardetto, Jaques^ Scholar learning French. 
 
 faq. How now, my little knave, quelle nouvelle^ monsieur. 
 Richar. There's a fellow with a night cap on his head, an 
 
 urinal in his hand, would fain speak with Master 
 
 Theodore. 
 
 21
 
 ACT I. sc. 6. The Return 
 
 Jaq. Parle Francois mon petit gar<;oii. 
 
 Richar. Ici un homvie avec le bonnet de nuit sur la tcte 
 
 et un urinal en la viain^ que veut parler avec^ M. 
 
 Theodore. 
 
 Jaq. Fort bien. 8 
 
 Theod. JaqueSy a bonne heure. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENA VI 
 
 Furor Poeticus^ and presently after enters Phantasma. 
 
 Fur. {Rapt within contemplation.) Why how now, 
 Pedant Phoebus, are you smouching Thaha on her 
 tender lips ? There hole ; peasant avaunt ; come, pretty 
 short-nosed nymph : Oh sweet ThaHa, I do kiss thy 
 foot. What Cho ? O sweet CHo ! nay, pray thee do 
 not weep, Melpomene. What, Urania, Polyhymnia, 
 and Calliope ! let me do reverence to your deities. 
 
 \Phantasma pulls him by the sleeve. 
 Fur. I am your holy swain, that night and day, 
 Sits for your sakes, rubbing my wrinkled brow, 
 Studying a month for one epithet. lo 
 
 Nay, silver Cinthia, do not trouble me ; 
 Straight will I thy Endymion's story write, 
 To which thou hastest me on day and night. 
 You light-skirt stars, this is your wonted guise, 
 By gloomy light perk out your doubtful heads : 
 
 22
 
 from Parnassus act i. sc. 6. 
 
 But when Dan Phoebus shows his flashing snout, 
 You are sky puppies, straight your light is out. 
 
 Phan. So ho, Furor. 
 
 Nay prithee, good Furor, in sober sadness. 
 
 Fur, Odi profanuni vulgus^ et arceo. 20 
 
 Phan. Nay, sweet Furor, ipscB te Tytire piiius 
 
 Ipsi te foiites^ ipsa hccc arbusta vocarimt. 
 
 Fur. Who's that runs headlong on my quill's sharp point, 
 That, wearied of his life and baser breath, 
 Offers himself to an Iambic verse. 
 
 Phan. Si\ qiioties peccant homines., suafulmina mittat 
 Jupiter, exiguo tempore inermis erit. 
 
 Fur. What slimy, bold, presumptuous groom is he, 
 Dares with his rude audacious hardy chat, 
 Thus sever me from skybred contemplation ? 30 
 
 Phan. Carmina vel ccelo posstint deducere lunam. 
 
 Fur. Oh Phantasma ; what my individual mate ? 
 
 Phan. O inihi post nicllas Furor ?ncmof'ande sodales. 
 
 Fur. Say whence comest thou ? sent from what deity ? 
 From great Apollo, or sly Mercury .? 
 
 Phan. I come from the little Mercury, Ingenioso ; for, 
 Ingenio pollet cut vijn natura negavit. 
 
 Fur. Ingenioso? 
 
 He is a pretty inventor of slight prose : 
 
 But there's no spirit in his grov'ling speech, 40 
 
 Hang him whose verse can not out-belch the wind : 
 
 That cannot beard and brave Dan Eolus, 
 
 That when the cloud of his invention breaks, 
 
 23
 
 ACT I. sc. 6. The Return 
 
 Cannot out-crack the scare-crow thunderbolt. 
 Phan. Hang him, I say ; pejido^ pcpendi ; tendo 
 
 tctendi; pedo pepedi. Will it please you Master 
 
 Furor, to walk with me ? I promised to bring you 
 
 to a drinking inn, in Cheapside, at the sign of the 
 
 Nag's Head ; for, 
 
 Tempore lejita paitfrcena docejitur equi. 5a 
 
 Fur. Pass thee before, I'll come incontinent. 
 Phan. Nay, faith, master Furor, let's go together, quoniam 
 
 convenimus ambo. 
 Fur. Let us march on unto the house of fame ; 
 
 There quaffing bowls of Bacchus' blood full nimbly. 
 
 Indite a tip-toe strutting poesy. 
 
 [ They offer the way one to the other. 
 Pha7i. Quo me., Bacche^ rapis tui plenum ? 
 Fur. Tu 7najorj tibi me est cequum parerc Mcnalca. 
 
 24
 
 from Parnassus act ii. sc. i. 
 
 ACTUS II 
 
 SCENA I 
 
 Enter Philoniusus^ Theodore^ his Patient the Burgess^ 
 and his Ma?i with his Staff. 
 
 Theod. [Puts on his spectacles^ Monsieur, here are 
 atomi natantes^ which do make shew your worship 
 to be as lecherous as a bull. 
 
 Burg. Truly, Master Doctor, we are all men. 
 
 Theod. This vater is intention of heat ; are you not per- 
 turbed with an ake in your vace, or in your occiput ? 
 I mean your head-piece. Let me feel the pulse of 
 your little finger. 
 
 Burg. I'll assure you, M. Theodore, the pulse of my head 
 beats exceedingly, and I think I have disturbed my- 
 self by studying the penal statutes. 1 1 
 
 Theod. Tit, tit, your worship takes cares of your speeches. 
 O cures leves loguuiitur^ ingentes stupcntj it is an 
 aphorism in Galen. 
 
 Burg. And what is the exposition of that ? 
 
 Theod. That 3'our worship must take a gland, utemittatuf 
 sanguis : the sign is fort excellent, /t?;^/ excellent. 
 
 25
 
 ACT II. sc. I. The Return 
 
 Burg. Good Master doctor, use me gently ; for mark 
 you, Sir, there is a double consideration to be had of 
 me : first, as I am a public magistrate ; secondly, 
 as I am a private butcher ; and, but for the wor- 
 shipful credit of the place and office wherein I now 
 stand and live, I would not hazard my worshipful 
 apparel, with a suppository, or a glister ; but for the 
 countenancing of the place, I must go oftener to 
 stool ; for, as a great gentleman told me of good ex- 
 perience, that it was the chief note of a magistrate, 
 not to go to the stool without a physician. 28 
 
 Theod. A J vous etes un ge7ttilhomme vraimenfy what ho, 
 Jaques, Jaques, ou es vous? un fort gentell purgation 
 for Monsieur Burgess, 
 
 Jag. Votre tres - humble serviture a votre commande- 
 ment. 
 
 Theod. Do7inez-vous un getitell purge a Monsieur Burgess. 
 I have considered of the crasis, and syntoma of your 
 disease, and here is un fort gentell purgation per 
 evacuationem excrementorum^ as we physicians use 
 to parley. 38 
 
 Burg. I hope. Master Doctor, you have a care of the 
 country's officer ; I tell you I durst not have trusted 
 my self with every physician, and yet I am not 
 afraid for my self, but I would not deprive the 
 town of so careful a magistrate. 
 
 Theod. O monsieur, I have a singular care of your 
 valetudo ; it is requisite that the French physicians 
 26
 
 from Parnassus act ii. sc. i. 
 
 be learned and careful, your English velvet cap is 
 
 malignant and envious. 46 
 
 Burg. Here is, Master Doctor, four pence your due, 
 
 and eight pence my bounty ; you shall hear from 
 
 me, good Master Doctor ; farewell, farewell, good 
 
 Master Doctor. 50 
 
 Theod. Adieu good monsieur, adieu good sir monsieur. 
 
 Then burst with tears unhappy graduate ; 
 
 Thy fortunes still wayward and backward been ; 
 
 Nor canst thou thrive by virtue, nor by sin. 
 Stud. Oh how it grieves my vexed soul to see, 
 
 Each painted ass in chair of dignity : 
 
 And yet we grovel on the ground alone. 
 
 Running through every trade, yet thrive by none ; 
 
 More we must act in this life's tragedy. 60 
 
 Phi. Sad is the plot, sad the catastrophe. 
 Stud. Sighs are the chorus in our tragedy. 
 Phi. And rented thoughts continual actors be. 
 Stud. Woe is the subject, Phil, earth the loathed stage, 
 
 Whereon we act this fained personage. 
 
 Most like barbarians the spectators be. 
 
 That sit and laugh at our calamity. 
 Phi. Bann'd be those hours when 'mongst the learned 
 throng, 
 
 By Granta's muddy bank we whilome sung. 70 
 
 Stud. Bann'd be that hill which learned wits adore, 
 
 Where erst we spent our stock and little store. 
 Phi, Bann'd be those musty mews, where we have spent, 
 27
 
 ACT II. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 Our youthful days in paled languishment. 
 Stud. Bann'd be those cosening arts that wrought our 
 woe, 
 
 Making us wand'ring Pilgrims to and fro. 
 Phi. And Pilgrims must we be without relief, 
 
 And wheresoever we run there meets us grief. 
 Stud. Where'er we toss upon this crabbed stage, 80 
 
 Grief's our companion, patience be our page. 
 Phi. Ah but this patience is a page of ruth, 
 
 A tired lacky to our wand'ring youth. 
 
 SCENA II 
 
 Academico solus. 
 
 Acad. Fain would I have a living, if I could tell how 
 
 to come by it. — Echo. Buy it. 
 A. Buy it, fond Echo? why thou doth greatly mistake 
 
 it. — Echo. Stake it. 
 A. Stake it? what should I stake at this game of 
 
 simony 1 — Echo- Money. 
 A. What, is the world a game? are livings gotten by 
 
 playing? — Echo. Paying. 
 A. Paying? but say what's the nearest way to come by a 
 
 living. — Echo. Giving. 10 
 
 A. Must his worship's fists be then oiled with angels?— 
 
 Echo. Angels. 
 
 28
 
 from Parnassus act ii. sc. 2. 
 
 A. Ought his gouty fists then first with gold to be 
 
 greased. — Echo. Eased. 
 A. And is it then such an ease for his ass's back to carry 
 
 money? — Echo. I. 
 A. Will then this golden ass bestow a vicarage gilded ? 
 
 — Echo. Gelded. 
 A. What shall I say to good Sir Raderic, that have 
 
 no gold here ? — Echo. Cold cheer. 20 
 
 A. I'll make it my lone request, that he would be good 
 
 to a scholar. — Echo. Choler. 
 A. Yea, will he be choleric, to hear of an art or a 
 
 science ? — Echo. Hence. 
 A. Hence with liberal arts, what then will he do with his 
 
 chancel? — Echo. Sell. 
 A. Sell it ? and must a simple clerk be fain to compound 
 
 then ? — Echo. Pounds then. 
 A. What if I have no pounds, must then my suit be 
 
 prorogued? — Echo. Rogued. 30 
 
 A. Yea, given to a rogue ; shall an ass this vicarage 
 
 compass? — Echo. Ass. 
 A. What is the reason that I should not be as fortunate 
 
 as he ? — Echo. Ass he. 
 A. Yet for all this, with a penniless purse will I trudge to 
 
 his worship ? — Echo. Words cheap. 
 A. Well, if he give me good words, it's more then I have 
 
 from an Echo. — Echo. Go. 
 
 29
 
 ACT II. sc. 3. The Return 
 
 SCENA III 
 
 Amoretto^ with an Ovid in his hand j Academico. 
 
 Amor. Take it on the word of a gentleman, thou cannot 
 have it a penny under, think on't, think on 't, while I 
 meditate on my fair mistress. 
 Nunc seqiior imperiimi magne Cupido tuum. 
 What ere become of this dull threadbare clerk, 
 I must be costly in my mistress' eye ; 
 Ladies regard not ragged company. 
 I will with the revenues of my chaffered church, 
 First buy an ambling hobby for my fair ; 
 Whose measured pace may teach the world to dance 
 Proud of his burden when he 'gins to prance : 1 1 
 Then must I buy a jewel for her ear, 
 A kirtle of some hundred crowns or more : 
 With these fair gifts when I accompanied go, 
 She'll give Jove's breakfast ; Sidney terms it so. 
 I am her needle, she is my Adamant, 
 She is my fair rose, I her unworthy prick. 
 
 Acad. Is there no body here will take the pains to geld 
 his mouth ? {Aside. 
 
 A7nor. She's Cleopatra, I Mark Antony. 20 
 
 Acad. No, thou art a mere mark for good wits to shoot 
 at ; and in that suit, thou wilt make a fine man to 
 dash poor clowns out of countenance. {Aside. 
 
 30
 
 from Parnassus act ii. sc. 4. 
 
 Amor. She is my moon, I her Endymlon. 
 
 Acad. No, she is thy shoulder of mutton, thou her 
 onion ; or she may be thy Luna, and thou her 
 Lunatic. {Aside. 
 
 Amor. I her y^neas, she my Dido is. 
 
 Acad. She is thy lo, thou her brasen ass ; 
 
 Or she dame Phantasy, and thou her gull, 30 
 
 She thy Pasiphae, and thou her loving bull. [Aside. 
 
 SCENA IV 
 Enter ImmeritOy and Sterciitio^ his Father. 
 
 Ster. Son, is this the gentleman that sells us the living ? 
 
 Im. Fy, father, thou must not call it selling, thou must 
 say, is this the gentleman that must have the 
 gratuito .^ 
 
 Acad. What have we here, old truepenny come to town, 
 to fetch away the living in his old greasy slops ; then 
 Pll none ; the time hath been when such a fellow 
 meddled with nothing but his ploughshare, his spade, 
 and his hobnails, and so to a piece of bread and 
 cheese, and went his way ; but now these fellows 
 are grown the only factors for preferment. 12 
 
 Ster. O is this the grating Gentleman, and how many 
 pounds must I pay ? 
 
 31
 
 ACT II. sc. 4. The Return 
 
 Im, O thou must not call them pounds, but thanks ; 
 and hark you, father, thou must tell of nothing that 
 is done ; for I must seem to come clear to it. 
 
 Acad. Not pounds but thanks : see whether this simple 
 fellow that hath nothing of a scholar, but that the 
 draper hath blacked him over, hath not gotten the 
 style of the time. 21 
 
 Ster. By my faith, son, look for no more portion. 
 
 Im. Well, father, I will not, upon this condition, that 
 when thou have gotten me the gratuito of the living, 
 thou will likewise disburse a little money to the 
 bishop's poser, for there are certain questions I 
 make scruple to be posed in. 
 
 Acad. He means any question in Latin, which he 
 counts a scruple ; O this honest man could never 
 abide this popish tongue of Latin. O ! he is as true 
 an English man as lives, 31 
 
 Ster. I'll take the gentleman now, he is in a good vein, 
 for he smiles. 
 
 Amor. Sweet Ovid, I do honour every page. 
 
 Acad. Good Ovid, that in his life time lived with the 
 Getes, and now after his death converseth with a 
 barbarian. 
 
 Ster. God be at your work, sir ; my son told me you 
 were the grating gentleman ; I am Stercutio, his 
 father, sir, simple as I stand here. 40 
 
 Amor. Fellow, I had rather given thee an hundred 
 pounds, than thou shouldst have put me out of my 
 32
 
 from Parnassus act ii. sc. 4. 
 
 excellent meditation ; by the faith of a gentleman, I 
 was wrapt in contemplation. 
 
 //;/. Sir, you must pardon my father, he wants bringing 
 up. 
 
 Acad. Marry, it seems he hath good bringing up, when 
 he brings up so much money. 
 
 Ster. Indeed, sir, you must pardon me, I did not know 
 you were a gentleman of the Temple before. 50 
 
 AjHor. Well I am content, in a generous disposition, to 
 bear with country education, but fellow, what's thy 
 name ? 
 
 Ster. My name, sir, Stercutio, sir. 
 
 Amor. Why then, Stercutio, I would be very willing to 
 be the instrument to my father, that this living might 
 be conferred upon your son ; marry, I would have 
 you know, that I have been importuned by two or 
 three several Lords, my kind cousins, in the behalf 
 of some Cambridge man, and have almost engaged 
 my word. Marry, if I shall see your disposition to be 
 more thankful than other men, I shall be very ready 
 to respect kind natured men ; for, as the Italian 
 proverbe speaketh wel, chi ha^ haura. 64 
 
 Acad. Why, here is a gallant young drover of livings. 
 
 Ster. I beseech you, sir, speak English ; for that is 
 natural to me and to my son, and all our kindred, 
 to understand but one language. 
 
 Amor. Why thus, in plain English ; I must be respected 
 with thanks. 70 
 
 D 33
 
 ACT II. sc. 4. The Return 
 
 Acad. This is a subtle tractive, when thanks may be felt 
 and seen. 
 
 Sfer. And I pray you, sir, what is the lowest thanks that 
 you will take ? 
 
 Acad. The very same method that he useth at the 
 buying of an ox. 
 
 Amor. I must have some odd sprinkling of an hundred 
 pounds ; if so, so — I shall think you thankful, and 
 commend your son as a man of good gifts to my 
 father. 80 
 
 Acad. A sweet world ! give an hundred pounds, and 
 this is but counted thankfulness. 
 
 S7eK Hark thou, sir, you shall have 80 thanks. 
 
 Amor. I tell thee, fellow, I never opened my mouth in 
 this kind so cheap before in my life. I tell thee, 
 few young gentlemen are found, that would deal so 
 kindly with thee as I do. 
 
 Ster. Well, sir, because I know my son to be a toward 
 thing, and one that hath taken all his learning on 
 his own head, without sending to the university, I 
 am content to give you as many thanks as you ask, 
 so you will promise me to bring it to pass. 92 
 
 Amor. I warrant you for that : if I say it once, repair 
 you to the place, and stay there for my father, he is 
 walked abroad to take the benefit of the air. I'll 
 meet him as he returns, and make way for your 
 suit. {Excunf. 
 
 34
 
 from Parnassus act ii. sc. 5. 
 
 SCENA V 
 
 Enter Academico^ A more it 0. 
 
 Amor. Gallant, i' faith. 
 
 Acad. I see we scholars fish for a living in these shallow 
 fords without a silver hook. Why, would it not 
 gall a man to see a spruce gartered youth of our 
 College, a while ago, be a broker for a living, and an 
 old Bawd for a benefice ? This sweet sir profTered 
 me much kindness when he was of our College, 
 and now I'll try what wind remains in his bladder. 
 God save you, Sir. 9 
 
 Amor. By the mass I fear me, I saw this Genus and 
 Species in Cambridge before now : I'll take no 
 notice of him now ; by the faith of a gentleman, this 
 is pretty elegy. Of what age is the day, fellow? 
 Sirrah boy, hath the groom saddled my hunting 
 hobby ? can Robin Hunter tell where a hare sits ? 
 
 Acad. See a poor old friend of yours, of S College, 
 
 in Cambridge. 
 
 Amor. Good faith, sir, you must pardon me. I have 
 forgotten you. 
 
 Acad. My name is Academico, sir, one that made an 
 oration for you once on the Queen's day, and a show 
 that you got some credit by. 22 
 
 Amor. It may be so, it may be so, but I have forgotten 
 it ; marry, yet I remember there was such a fellow 
 
 35
 
 ACT 11. sc. 5. The Return 
 
 that I was very beneficial unto in my time. But 
 howsoever, sir, I have the courtesy of the town for 
 you. I am sorry you did not take me at my father's 
 house : but now I am in exceeding great haste, for I 
 have vowed the death of a hare that we found this 
 morning musing on her meaze. 30 
 
 Acad. Sir, I am emboldened by that great acquaintance 
 that heretofore I had with you, as likewise it hath 
 pleased you heretofore 
 
 Amor. Look, sirrah, if you see my hobby come hither- 
 ward as yet. 
 
 Acad. To make me some promises, I am to request your 
 good mediation to the worshipful your father, in my 
 behalf: and I will dedicate to your self in the way 
 of thanks, those days I have to live. 
 
 Amor. O good sir, if I had known your mind before, 
 for my father hath already given the induction to a 
 chaplain of his own, to a proper man, I know not 
 of what university he is. 43 
 
 Acad. Signior Immerito, they say, hath bidden fairest 
 for it. 
 
 Amor. I know not his name, but he is a grave discreet 
 man, I warrant him ; indeed he wants utterance in 
 some measure. 
 
 Acad. Nay, methinks he hath very good utterance for 
 his gravity, for he came hither very grave, but I 
 think he will return light enough, when he is rid of 
 the heavy element he carries about him (aside). 52 
 
 36
 
 from Parnassus act ii. sc. 5. 
 
 Aj/ior. Faith, sir, you must pardon me : it is my ordinary 
 custom to be too studious : my mistress hath told 
 me of it often, and I find it to hurt my ordinary 
 discourse : but say, sweet sir, do ye affect the most 
 gentlemanlike game of hunting. 
 
 Acad. How say you to the crafty gull, he would fain 
 get me abroad to make sport with me in their hunter's 
 terms, which we scholars are not acquainted with 
 {aside). Sir, I have loved this kind of sport, but now 
 I begin to hate it, for it hath been my luck always 
 to beat the bush, while another killed the hare. 63 
 
 Amor. Hunter's luck, hunter's luck, sir ; but there was a 
 fault in your hounds that did spend well. 
 
 Acad. Sir, I have had worse luck always at hunting the 
 fox. 
 
 Amor. What, sir, do you mean at the unkennelling, 
 untapezing, or earthing of the fox ? 
 
 Acad. I mean earthing, if you term it so ; for I never 
 found yellow earth enough to cover the old fox your 
 father {aside). 72 
 
 Amor. Good faith, sir, there is an excellent skill in 
 blowing for the terriers ; it is a word that we hunters 
 use when the fox is earthed. You must blow one long, 
 two short ; the second wind, one long, two short. 
 Now, sir, in blowing, every long containeth 7 quavers, 
 one short containeth 3 quavers. 
 
 Acad. Sir, might I find any favour in my suit, I 
 would wind the horn wherein your boon deserts 
 37
 
 ACT II. sc. 5. The Return 
 
 should be sounded with so many minims, so many 
 quavers 82 
 
 Amor. Sweet sir, I would I could confer this, or any 
 kindness upon you ; I wonder the boy comes not 
 away with my hobby. Now, sir, as I was pro- 
 ceeding : when you blow the death of your fox in 
 the field or covert, then must you sound 3 notes, 
 with 3 winds, and recheat, mark you, sir, upon the 
 same, with 3 winds. 
 
 Acad. I pray you, sir. 
 
 Amoj'. Now, sir, when you come to your stately gate, as 
 you sounded the recheat before, so now you must 
 sound the relief three times. 93 
 
 Acad. Relief call you It ? it were good every patron 
 would find the horn {aside). 
 
 Amor. O, sir, but your relief is your sweetest note ; that 
 is, sir, when your hounds hunt after a game un- 
 known ; and then you must sound one long and six 
 short ; the second wind, two short and one long ; the 
 third wind, one long and two short. 100 
 
 Acad. True, sir, it is a very good trade nowadays to be 
 a villain ; I am the hound that hunts after a game 
 unknown, and blows the villain {aside). 
 
 Amor. Sir, I will bless your ears with a very pretty 
 story. My father out of his own cost and charges 
 keeps an open table for all kind of dogs. 
 
 Acad. And he keeps one more by thee {aside). 
 
 Ajnor. He hath your grey-hound, your mongrel, your 
 
 38
 
 from Parnassus act ii. sc. 5. 
 
 mastifif, your levrler, your spaniel, your kennets, 
 terriers, butchers' dogs, blood-hounds, dunghill- 
 dogs, trundle-tails, prick-eared curs, small ladies' 
 puppies, raches, and bastards. 112 
 
 Acad. What bawdy knave hath he to his father, that 
 keeps his Rachel, hath his bastards, and lets his 
 sons be plain ladies' puppies, to bewray a lady's 
 chamber (aside). 
 
 A?nor. It was my pleasure two days ago, to take a 
 gallant leash of grey-hounds ; and into my father's 
 park I went, accompanied with two or three noble- 
 men of my near acquaintance, desiring to shew 
 them some of the sport. I caused the keeper to sever 
 the rascal deer, from the bucks of the first head. 
 Now, sir, a buck the first year is a fawn, the 
 second year a pricket, the third year a sorel, the 
 fourth year a sore, the fifth a buck of the first head, 
 the sixth year a complete buck : as likewise your 
 hart is the first year a calf, the second year a 
 brocket, the third year a spade, the fourth yeai 
 a stag, the fifth year a great stag, the sixth year 
 a hart : as likewise the roe-buck is the first year a 
 kid, the second year a girl, the third year a hemuse : 
 and these are your special beasts for chase, or, as 
 we huntsmen call it, for venery. 133 
 
 Acad. If chaste be taken for venery, thou art a more 
 special beast, than any in thy father's forest {aside). 
 Sir, I am sorry I have been so troublesome to you, 
 
 39
 
 ACT II. sc. 5. The Return 
 
 Amor. I know this was the readiest way to chase away 
 the scholar, by getting him into a subject he cannot 
 talk of for his life {aside). Sir, I will borrow so much 
 time of you, as to finish this my begun story. Now, 
 sir, after much travel we singled a buck, I rode that 
 same time upon a roan gelding, and stood to 
 intercept from the thicket : the buck broke gallantly ; 
 my great swift being disadvantaged in his slip, was 
 at the first behind ; marry, presently coted and out- 
 stripped them, when, as the hart presently descended 
 to the river, and being in the water, proffered, and 
 reproffered, and proffered again ; and at last he 
 up-started at the other side of the water, which we 
 call soil of the hart, and there other huntsmen met 
 him with an adauntreley ; we followed in hard chase 
 for the space of eight hours ; thrice our hounds were 
 at default, and then we cryed '« Slain /' straight ' So 
 ho ' / through good reclaiming, my faulty hounds 
 found their game again, and so went through the 
 wood with gallant notice of music, resembling 
 so many viols de gambo : at last the hart laid 
 him down, and the hounds seized upon him, 
 he groaned, and wept, and died. In good faith 
 it made me weep too, to think of Acteon's 
 
 fortune, which my Ovid speaks of \^He reads 
 
 Ovid.] 161 
 
 Militat om?2is amans^ et habei sua casira Ciipido. 
 
 40
 
 from Parnassus act ii. sc. 6. 
 
 Acad. Sir, can you put me in any hope of obtaining my 
 suit? 
 
 Amor. In good faith, sir, if I did not love you as my 
 soul, I would not make you acquainted with the 
 mysteries of my art. 
 
 Acad. Nay, I will not die of a discourse yet, if I can 
 choosQ [he retires imsee?i]. 169 
 
 Amor. So, sir, when we had rewarded our dogs with 
 the small guts, and the lights, and the blood, the 
 huntsmen hallooed, so ho^ Vemic a coupler^ and so 
 coupled the dogs, and then returned homeward. 
 Another company of hounds that lay at advantage, 
 had their couples cast off, and we might hear the 
 huntsmen cry, horse, decouple, avant, but straight 
 we heard him cry, le afnond, and by that, I knew 
 that they had the hare and on foot, and by and by I 
 might see sore, and resore, prick and reprick : what, 
 is he gone ? ha, ha, ha, ha, these scholars are the 
 simplest creatures ! 
 
 SCENA VI 
 
 Enter Amoretto, and his Page. 
 
 Page. I wonder what is become of that Ovid de arte 
 amandi. My master, he that for the practise of his 
 discourse, is wont to court his hobby abroad and at 
 
 41
 
 ACT II. sc. 6, The Return 
 
 home, in his chamber makes a set speech to his 
 grey-hound, desiring that most fair and amiable 
 dog to grace his company in a stately galliard ; 
 and if the dog seeing him practise his lusty points, 
 as his crosspoint back-caper, chance to bewray 
 the room, he presently doffs his cap, most solemnly 
 makes a low-leg to her ladyship, taking it for the 
 greatest favour in the world, that she would vouch- 
 safe to leave her civet box, or her sweet glove 
 behind her. 13 
 
 \Enter A^noreito who opens and reads Ovid. 
 
 Page. Not a word more, sir, an't please you, your hobby 
 will meet you at the lane's end. 
 
 Amor. What, Jack, faith I cannot but vent unto thee a 
 most witty jest of mine. 
 
 Page. I hope my master will not break wind {aside) : wilt 
 please you, sir, to bless mine ears with the dis- 
 course of it. 21 
 
 Amor. Good faith, the boy begins to have an elegant 
 smack of my style : why then thus it was, Jack ; 
 a scurvy mere Cambridge scholar, I know not how 
 to define him. 
 
 Page. Nay, master, let me define a mere scholar ; 
 I heard a courtier once define a mere scholar to 
 be animal scabiosum^ that is, a living creature that 
 is troubled with the itch ; or a mere scholar, is 
 a creature that can strike fire in the morning at his 
 tinder-box, put on a pair of lined slippers, sit 
 42
 
 from Parnassus act ii. sc. e. 
 
 rheuming till dinner, and then go to his meat when 
 the bell rings ; one that hath a peculiar gift in a 
 cough, and a licence to spit ; or if you will have him 
 defined by negatives, he is one that cannot make a 
 good leg, one that cannot eat a mess of broth 
 cleanly, one that cannot ride a horse without spur- 
 galling, one that cannot salute a woman, and look on 
 her directly, one that cannot 39 
 
 Ainor. Enough, Jack, I can stay no longer, I am so 
 great in child-birth with this jest ; sirrah, this 
 pmedicable, this saucy groom, because when I was 
 in Cambridge, and lay in a trundlebed under my 
 tutor, I was content in discreet humility, to give him 
 some place at the table ; and because I invited 
 the hungry slave sometimes to my chamber, to the 
 canvassing of a turkey pie, or a piece of venison, 
 which my lady grand-mother sent me, he thought 
 himself therefore eternally possessed of my love, and 
 came hither to take acquaintance of me, and thought 
 his old familiarity did continue, and would bear him 
 out in a matter of weight. I could not tell how to 
 rid myself better of the troublesome burr, than 
 by getting him into the discourse of hunting, and 
 then tormenting him awhile with our words of art, 
 the poor scorpion became speechless, and suddenly 
 vanished. These clerks are simple fellows, simple 
 fellows. {He reads Ovid.) 58 
 
 Page. Simple indeed they are, for they want your courtly 
 
 43
 
 ACT II. sc. 6. The Return 
 
 composition of a fool, and of a kna\e {aside). Good 
 faith, sir, a most absolute jest, but methinks it 
 might have been followed a little farther. 
 
 Amor. As how, my little knave ? 63 
 
 Page. Why thus, sir, had you invited him to dinner at 
 your table, and have put the carving of a capon 
 upon him, you should have seen him handle the 
 knife so foolishly, then run through a jury of faces, 
 then wagging his head, and shewing his teeth in 
 familiarity, venture upon it with the same method that 
 he was wont to untruss an apple pie, or tyrannise 
 an ^'g^ and butter : then would I had applied him 
 all dinner time with clean trenchers, clean 
 trenchers, and still when he had a good bit of meat, 
 I w^ould have taken it from him, by giving him a 
 clean trencher, and so have served him in 
 kindness. 76 
 
 Ajnor. Well said, subtle Jack, put me in mind when 
 I return again, that I may make my lady-mother 
 laugh at the scholar : I'll to my game ; for you, 
 Jack, I would have your employ your time till my 
 coming, in watching what hour of the day my 
 hawk mutes. \^Exit. 
 
 Page. Is not this an excellent office to be apothecary to 
 his worship's hawk : to sit scouting on the wall, how 
 the physic works ? and is not my master an 
 absolute villain, that loves his hawk, his hobby, 
 and his grey-hound, more then any mortal creature? 
 
 44
 
 from Parnassus act ii. sc. 6. 
 
 do but dispraise a feather of his hawk's train, and 
 he writhes his mouth, and swears, for he can do 
 that only with a good grace, that you are the most 
 shallow-brained fellow that lives ; do but say his 
 horse stales with a good presence, he's your bond- 
 slave : when he returns, I'll tell twenty admirable 
 lies of his hawk, and then I shall be his little rogue 
 and his white villain, for a whole week after. 
 Well, let others complain, but I think there is 
 no felicity to the serving of a fool. 96 
 
 45
 
 ACT III. sc. I. The Return 
 
 ACTUS III 
 SCENA I 
 
 Sir Raderic\ Recorder^ P<^g^^ Signior Immerito. 
 
 Sir Rad. Signior Immerito, you remember my caution for 
 the tithes, and my promise for farming my tithes 
 at such a rate ? 
 
 Im. Ay ! and please your worship, sir. 
 
 Sir Rad. You must put in security for the performance of 
 it in such sort, as I and Master Recorder shall 
 like of. 
 
 Im, I will, an't please your worship. 
 
 Sir Rad. And because I will be sure that I have con- 
 ferred this kindness upon a sufficient man, I have 
 desired Master Recorder to take examination oi 
 you. 1 2 
 
 Page. My master, it seems, takes him for a thief, but 
 he hath small reason for it ; as for learning, it's 
 plain he never stole any, and for the living he 
 knows himself how he comes by it ; for let him 
 but eat a mess of furmenty this seven year, and 
 yet he shall never be able to recover himself : alas, 
 46
 
 from Parnassus act hi. sc. i. 
 
 poor sheep, that hath fallen into the hands of such 
 a fox {aside). 20 
 
 Sir Rad. Good Master Recorder, take your place by me, 
 and make trial of his gifts. Is the clerk there to 
 record his examination ? Oh the Page shall serve 
 the turn. 
 
 Page. Trial of his gifts ! never had any gifts a better 
 trial. Why Immerito his gifts have appeared in 
 as many colours as the rainbow ; first to master 
 Amoretto in colour of the satin suit he wears ; 
 to my lady, in the similitude of a loose gown ; to 
 my master, in the likeness of a silver basin and 
 ewer ; to us pages in the semblance of new suits 
 and points. So master Amoretto plays the gull 
 in a piece of a parsonage ; my master adorns his 
 cupboard with a piece of a parsonage ; my mistress 
 upon good days, puts on a piece of a parsonage ; 
 and we pages play at blow point for a piece of 
 a parsonage. I think here's trial enough for one 
 man's gifts {aside). 38 
 
 Rec. For as much as nature hath done her part in 
 making you a handsome likely man 
 
 Page. He is a handsome young man indeed, and hath 
 a proper gelded parsonage. 
 
 Rec. In the next place, some art is requisite for the 
 
 perfection of nature ; for the trial whereof, at the 
 
 request of my worshipful friend, I will in some sort 
 
 propound questions fit to be resolved by one of 
 
 47
 
 ACT III. sc. I. The Return 
 
 your profession. Say, what is a person that was 
 
 never at the university ? 
 Im. A person that was never in the university, is a 
 
 living creature that can eat a tithe pig. 50 
 
 Rec. Very well answered ; but you should have added, 
 
 and must be officious to his patron. Write down 
 
 that answer, to show his learning in logic. 
 Sir Rad. Yea, boy, write that down ; very learnedly 
 
 in good faith. I pray now let me ask you one 
 
 question that I remember, whether is the masculine 
 
 gender or the feminine more worthy ? 
 Im. The feminine, sir. 
 Sir Rad. The right answer, the right answer. In good 
 
 faith, I have been of that mind always ; write, 
 
 boy, that, to shew he is a grammarian. 60 
 
 Page. No marvel my master be against the grammar, 
 
 for he hath always made false Latin in the 
 
 genders {aside). 
 Rec. What university are you of? 
 Im. Of none. 
 Sir Rad. He tells truth ; to tell truth is an excellent 
 
 virtue ; boy, make two heads, one for his learning, 
 
 another for his virtues, and refer this to the 
 
 head of his virtues, not of his learning. 
 Page. What, half a mess of good qualities referred to 
 
 an ass' head {aside) ? 71 
 
 Sir Rad. Now, Master Recorder, if it please you, I 
 
 will examine him in an author, that will sound him 
 
 48
 
 from Parnassus act hi. sc. i. 
 
 to the depth ; a book of astronomy, otherwise 
 
 called an almanack. 
 Rec. Very good, Sir Raderic ; it were to be wished 
 
 that there were no other book of humanity, then 
 
 there would not be such busy state-prying fellows 
 
 as are now a-days. Proceed, good sir. 
 Sir Rad. What is the Dominical Letter ? 80 
 
 I?n. C, sir, and please your worship. 
 Sir Rad. A very good answer, a very good answer, the 
 
 very answer of the book. Write down that, and 
 
 refer it to his skill in philosophy. 
 Page. C, the dominical letter ; it is true, craft and 
 
 cunning do so domineer ; yet rather C and D are 
 
 dominical letters, that is, crafty dunsery {aside). 
 Sir Rad. How many days hath September ? 
 I?n. April, June, and November, February hath 28 
 
 alone, and all the rest hath 30 and one. 90 
 
 Sir Rad. Very learnedly, in good faith ; he hath also 
 
 a smack in poetry. Write down that, boy, to shew 
 
 his learning in poetry. How many miles from 
 
 Waltham to London? 
 I?n. Twelve, sir. 
 
 Sir Rad. How many from Newmarket to Grantham ? 
 Im. Ten, sir. 
 
 Page. Without doubt, he hath been some carrier's horse ? 
 Sir Rad. How call you him that is cunning in 1,2, 3, 4, 5, 
 
 and the cypher ? 100 
 
 Im. A good arithmetician. 
 
 E 49
 
 ACT III. sc. I. The Return 
 
 Sir Rad. Write downe that answer of his, to show his 
 
 learning in arithmetic. 
 Page. He must needs be a good arithmetician, that 
 
 counted money so lately {aside). 
 Sir Rad. When is the new moon ? 
 Im. The last quarter, the 5 day, at 2 of the clock, and 
 
 38 minutes in the morning. 
 Sir Rad. Write him down. How call you him, that is 
 
 weather-wise ? no 
 
 Rec. A good astronomer. 
 Sir Rad. Sirrah, boy, write him down for a good 
 
 astronomer. 
 Page. Ass colit ass-tra {aside). 
 Sir Rad. What day of the month lights the Queen's day 
 
 on ? 
 /;;/. The 17 of November. 
 Sir Rad. Boy, refer this to his virtues, and write him 
 
 down a good subject. 1 19 
 
 Page. Faith he were an excellent subject for 2 or 3 
 
 good wits ; he would make a fine ass for an ape 
 
 to ride upon {aside). 
 Sir Rad. And these shall suffice for the parts of his 
 
 learning. Now it remains to try, whether you be 
 
 a man of good utterance, that is, whether you can 
 
 ask for the strayed heifer with the white face, as 
 
 also chide the boys in the belfry, and bid the 
 
 sexton whip out the dogs ; let me hear your 
 
 voice. 
 
 50
 
 from Parnassus act hi. sc. i. 
 
 Im. If any man or woman 130 
 
 Sir Rad. That's too high. 
 
 hn. If any man or woman 
 
 Sir Rad. That's too low. 
 
 hn. If any man or woman can tell any tidings of a 
 horse with four feet, two ears, that did stray about 
 the seventh hour, three minutes in the forenoon, 
 the fifth day. 
 
 Page. Ay, look at a horse just as it were the eclipse of 
 the moon {aside). 
 
 Sir Rad. Boy, write him down for a good utterance. 
 Master Recorder, I think he hath been examined 
 sufficiently. 142 
 
 Rec. Ay, Sir Raderic, 'tis so ; we have tried him very 
 thoroughly. 
 
 Page. Ay, we have taken an inventory of his good parts, 
 and prized them accordingly {aside). 
 
 Sir Rad. Signior Immerito, forasmuch as we have made 
 a double trial of thee, the one of your learning, 
 the other of your erudition ; it is expedient also, 
 in the next place, to give you a few exhortations, 
 considering the greatest clerks are not the wisest 
 men ; this is, therefore, first to exhort you to abstain 
 from controversies ; secondly, not to gird at men of 
 worship, such as myself, but to use your self 
 discreetly ; thirdly, not to speak when any man 
 or woman coughs ; do so, and in so doing, I will 
 persever to be your w^orshipful friend and loving 
 patron. 158 
 
 51
 
 ACT III. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 Im. I thank your worship, you ha\e been the deficient 
 cause of my preferment. 
 
 Sir Rad. Lead Immerito in to my son, and let him 
 dispatch him, and remember my tithes to be 
 reserved, paying twelve pence a year. I am going 
 to Moorfields, to speak with an unthrift, I should 
 meet at the Middle Temple about a purchase ; 
 when you have done, follow us. 
 
 \Exeunt Immerito and the Page. 
 
 SCENA II 
 Sir Raderic and Recorder. 
 
 Sir Rad. Hark you, master Recorder, I have fleshed 
 my prodigal boy notably, notably, in letting him 
 deal for this living ; that hath done him much 
 good, much good, I assure you. 
 
 Rec. You do well. Sir Raderic, to bestow your living 
 upon such an one as will be content to share, and 
 on Sunday to say nothing ; uhereas your proud 
 university princox thinks he is a man of such 
 merit, the world cannot sufficiently endow him 
 with preferment ; an unthankful viper, an unthankful 
 viper, that will sting the man that revived him, 1 1 
 
 Why is't not strange to see a ragged clerk, 
 Some stamel weaver, or some butcher's son ; 
 52
 
 from Parnassus act hi. sc. 2. 
 
 That scrubbed a-late within a sleeveless gown, 
 
 When the commencement, like a morrice dance, 
 
 Hath put a bell or two about his legs, 
 
 Created him a sweet clean gentleman ; 
 
 How then he 'gins to follow fashions. 
 
 He, whose thin sire dwells in a smoky roof. 
 
 Must take tobacco and must wear a lock. 20 
 
 His thirsty dad drinks in a wooden bowl, 
 
 But his sweet self is served in silver plate. 
 
 His hungry sire will scrape you twenty legs, 
 
 For one good Christmas meal on New- Year's day ; 
 
 But his maw must be capon-crammed each day. 
 
 He must ere long be triple beneficed, 
 
 Else with his tongue he'll thunderbolt the world. 
 
 And shake each peasant by his deaf-man's ear. 
 
 But, had the world no wiser men than I, 
 
 We'd pen the prating parrots in a cage, 30 
 
 A chair, a candle, and a tinderbox. 
 
 A thacked chamber, and a ragged gown. 
 
 Should be their lands and whole possessions ; 
 
 Knights, lords, and lawyers, should be lodged and 
 
 dwell 
 W^ithin those over-stately heaps of stone ; 
 Which doting sires in old age did erect. 
 
 Well, it were to be wished, that never a scholar 
 
 in England might have above forty pound a year. 39 
 
 Sir Rad. Faith, master Recorder, if it went by wishing, 
 
 there should never an one of them all have above 
 
 53
 
 ACT III. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 twenty a year ; a good stipend, a good stipend, 
 Master Recorder. Ay, in the mean time, howsoever, 
 I hate them all deadly, yet I am fain to give them 
 good words. Oh they are pestilent fellows, they 
 speak nothing but bodkins, and piss vinegar. 
 Well, do what I can in outward kindness to them, 
 yet they do nothing but bewray my house ; as there 
 was one that made a couple of knavish verses on 
 my country chimney, now in the time of my sojourn- 
 ing here at London : and it was thus — 51 
 
 Sir Raderic keeps no chimney cavalier, 
 That takes tobacco above once a year. 
 
 And another made a couple of verses on my 
 daughter, that learns to play on the viol-de-gavibo^ 
 
 Her viol-de-ga7}ibo is her best content. 
 For 'twixt her legs she holds her instrument. 
 
 Very knavish, very knavish, if you look into it, 
 Master Recorder ; nay they have played many a 
 knavish trick beside with me. Well, 'tis a shame 
 indeed there should be any such privilege for proud 
 beggars, as Cambridge and Oxford are. But let 
 them go ; and if ever they light in my hands, if 
 I do not plague them, let me never return home 
 again to see my wife's waiting maid. 6$ 
 
 Rec. This scorn of knights is too egregious. 
 
 But how should these young colts prove amblers, 
 When the old heavy galled jades do trot : 
 There shall you see a puny boy start up, 
 
 54
 
 from Parnassus act hi. sc. 2. 
 
 And make a them against common lawyers : 70 
 
 Then the old unwieldy camels 'gin to dance, 
 This fiddling boy playing a fit of mirth : 
 The graybeards scrub, and laugh and cry, 'good, 
 
 good. 
 To them again, boy, scourge the barbarians : ' 
 But we may give the losers leave to talk, 
 We have the coin, then tell them laugh for me. 
 Yet knights and lawyers hope to see the day, 
 When we may share here their possessions. 
 And make indentures of their chaffered skins ; 80 
 Dice of their bones to throw in merriment. 
 
 Sir Rad. O good faith. Master Recorder, if I could see 
 that day once ! 
 
 Rec. Well, remember another day, what I say ; scholars 
 are pried into of late, and are found to be busy 
 fellows, disturbers of the peace ; I'll say no more, 
 guess at my meaning, I smell a rat. 
 
 Sir Rad. I hope at length England will be wise enough, 
 I hope so, i' faith ; then an old knight may have his 
 wench in a corner without any satires or epigrams. 
 But the day is far spent, master Recorder, and 
 I fear by this time, the unthrift is arrived at the 
 place appointed in Moorfields. Let us hasten to 
 him. S^He looks on his watch. 
 
 Rec. Indeed this day's subject transported us too late ; 
 I think we shall not come much too late. \Exetinf. 
 
 55
 
 ACTiii. sc. 3. The Return 
 
 SCENA III 
 
 Enter Amoretto^ his Page, Inimeriio booted. 
 
 Amor. Master Immerito, deliver this letter to the poser 
 in my father's name ; marry withal some sprinkling, 
 some sprinkling, verbum sapienti sat est; farewell, 
 master Immerito. 
 
 Im. I thank your worship most heartily. 
 
 Page. Is it not a shame to see this old dunce learning 
 his induction at these years ? But let him go, I lose 
 nothing by him, for I'll be sworn, but for the booty 
 of selling the parsonage, I should have gone in mine 
 old clothes this Christmas. A dunce I see is a 
 neighbourlike brute beast, a man may live by him. 
 
 Amor, {seems to make verse.) A pox on it, my muse is 
 not so witty as she was wont to be ; 'her nose is like,' 
 not yet ; plague on these mathematics, they have 
 spoiled my brain in making a verse. 15 
 
 Page. Hang me, if he hath any more mathematics than 
 will serve to count the clock, or tell the meridian 
 hour by rumbling of his paunch. 
 
 Amor. Her nose is like 
 
 Page. A cobbler's shoeing horn {aside). 20 
 
 Amor. Her nose is like a beauteous maribone. 
 
 Page. Marry a sweet snotty mistress {aside). 
 
 Amor. Faith I do not like it yet ; ass as I was to read 
 
 56
 
 from Parnassus act hi. sc. 3. 
 
 a piece of Aristotle in Greek yesternight ; it hath 
 put me out of my English vein quite. 25 
 
 Page. O monstrous lie ! let me be a point-trusser while I 
 live, if he understands any tongue but English {aside). 
 
 Amor. Sirrah, boy, remember me when I come in Paul's 
 Churchyard to buy a Ronsard, and Dubartas in 
 French, and Aretine in Italian, and our hardest 
 writers in Spanish, they will sharpen my wits 
 gallantly ; I do relish these tongues in some sort. 
 Oh, now I do remember, I hear a report of a poet 
 newly come out in Hebrew; it is a pretty harsh 
 tongue, and telleth a gentleman traveller ; but come 
 let's haste after my father ; the fields are fitter to 
 heavenly meditations. \Exeunt. 37 
 
 Page. My masters, I could wish your presence at an 
 admirable jest ; why presently this great linguist, my 
 master, will march through Paul's Churchyard ; 40 
 come to a bookbinder's shop, and with a big Italian 
 look, and a Spanish face, ask for these books in 
 Spanish and Italian ; then turning, through his 
 ignorance, the wrong end of the book upwards, use 
 action, on this unknown tongue after this sort ; first, 
 look on the title, and wrinkle his brow ; next make 
 as though he read the first page, and bites a lip ; then 
 with his nail score a margent, as though there were 
 some notable conceit ; and lastly, when he thinks 
 he hath gulled the standers-by sufficiently, throws 50 
 the book away in a rage, swearing that he could 
 
 57
 
 ACT III. sc. 4. '^he Return 
 
 never find books of a true print, since he was 
 last in Joadna ; enquire after the same mart, and 
 so departs. And so must I, for by this time his con- 
 templation is arrived at his mistress's nose end ; 55 
 he is as glad as if he had taken Ostend ; by this time 
 he begins to spit, and cry, 'boy, carry my cloake;' 
 and now I go to attend on his worship. 
 
 SCENA IV 
 
 Enter Ifigejiioso, Furor^ Pkantasma. 
 
 Ing. Come, lads, this wine whets your resolution in our 
 design ; it's a needy world with subtle spirits, and 
 there's a gentlemanlike kind of begging, that may 
 beseem poets in this age. 
 
 Fur. Now, by the wing of nimble Mercury, 
 By my Thalia's silver-sounding harp ; 
 By that celestial fire within my brain. 
 That gives a living genius to my lines ; 
 Howe'er my dulled intellectual 
 
 Capers less nimbly then it did afore, 10 
 
 Yet will I play ' a hunt's up ' to my muse. 
 And make her mount from out her sluggish nest. 
 As high as is the highest sphere in heaven : 
 Awake you paltry trulls of Helicon, 
 Or by this light I'll swagger with you straight : 
 
 58
 
 from Parnassus act hi. sc. 4. 
 
 You grandsire Phcebus, with your lovely eye, 
 
 The firmament's eternal vagabond, 
 
 The heaven's promoter, that doth peep and pry 
 
 Into the acts of mortal tennis balls, 
 
 Inspire me straight with some rare delicies, 20 
 
 Or I'll dismount thee from thy radiant coach ; 
 
 And make thee a poor cutchy here on earth, 
 
 Phaji. Currus aiiriga pateriii. 
 
 Ing. Nay prythee, good Furor, do not rove in rhymes 
 before thy time ; thou hast a very terrible roaring 
 muse, nothing but squibs and fine jerks ; quiet thy 
 self a while, and hear thy charge. 
 
 Pha7i. Hue ades hcec; aniino C07icipe dicta iuo. 28 
 
 hig. Let us on to our device, our plot, our project. That 
 old Sir Raderic, that new printed compendium of 
 all iniquity, that hath not aired his country chimney 
 once in three winters : he that loves to live in an 
 odd corner here at London, and affect an old wench 
 in a nook ; one that loves to live in a narrow room, 
 that he may with more facility in the dark, light 
 upon his wife's waiting maid ; one that loves a life, 
 a short sermon, and a long play ; one that goes to 
 a play, to a whore, to his bed in circle, good for 
 nothing in the world but to sweat nightcaps, and 
 foul fair lawn shirts, feed a few foggy serving 
 men, and prefer dunces to livings. This old Sir 
 Raderic, Furor, it shall be thy task to cudgel 
 with thy thick-thwack terms ; marry, at the first 
 
 59
 
 ACT III. sc. 4. The Return 
 
 give him some sugar-candy terms, and then if he 
 will not untie the purse-strings of his liberality, 
 sting him with terms laid in aqua fortis and gun- 
 powder. 
 
 Fur. In novafert animus niutatas dicere formas. 
 The servile current of my sliding verse, 
 Gentle shall run into his thick-skinned ears ; 50 
 
 Where it shall dwell like a magnifico, 
 Command his slimy spright to honour me 
 For my high, tiptoe-strutting poesy ; 
 But if his stars hath favoured him so ill, 
 As to debar him by his dunghill thoughts. 
 Justly to esteem my verses' lowting pitch : 
 If his earth-rooting snout shall 'gin to scorn, 
 My verse, that giveth immortality ; 
 Then, Bella per Emathios. 
 
 Phan. Furor arma ministrat. 60 
 
 Fur. I'll shake his heart upon my verses' point, 
 Rip out his guts with riving poniard : 
 Quarter his credit with a bloody quill. 
 
 Phan. Calami^ atraincjiium^ charta^ libellt\ 
 Sunt semper studiis arma parata tuts. 
 
 Ing. Enough, Furor ; we know thou art a nimble 
 swaggerer with a goose-quill : now for you, Phan- 
 tasma, leave trussing your points, and listen. 
 
 Phan. Omne tulit punctutn. 69 
 
 Ing. Mark you Amoretto, Sir Raderic's son ; to 
 him shall thy piping poetry and sugar-ends of 
 60
 
 from Parnassus act hi. sc. 5. 
 
 verses be directed ; he is one, that will draw out his 
 pocket-glass thrice in a walk ; one that dreams 
 in a night of nothing but musk and civet, and 
 talks of nothing all day long but his hawk, his 
 hound, and his mistress ; one that more admires the 
 good wrinkle of a boot, the curious crinkling of 
 a silk stocking, then all the wit in the world ; one 
 that loves no scholar, but him whose tired ears 
 can endure half a day together his fly-blown son- 
 nets of his mistress and her loving pretty creatures, 
 her monkey and her puppy ; it shall be thy task, 
 Phantasma, to cut this gull's throat with fair 
 terms ; and if he hold fast for all thy juggling 
 rhetoric, fall at defiance with him, and the poking 
 stick he wears. 86 
 
 Phan. Si?nul extulit ensem. 
 
 Ing. Come brave imps, gather up your spirits, and let us 
 march on, like adventurous knights, and discharge 
 a hundred poetical spirits upon them. 
 
 Phan. Est detts in nobis^ agitante calescwius illo. 
 
 \Exeimi. 
 
 SCENA V 
 
 Enter Philomusus^ Stttdioso. 
 
 Stud. Well, Philomusus, we never 'scaped so fair a 
 scouring ; why yonder are pursuivants out for the 
 61
 
 ACTiii. sc. 5. 'The Return 
 
 French doctor, and a lodging bespoken for him and 
 his man in Newgate. It was a terrible fear that 
 made us cast our hair. 
 
 Phil. And canst thou sport at our calamities ? 
 And count'st us happy to 'scape prisonment ? 
 Why the wide world, that blesseth some with weal, 
 Is to our chained thoughts a darksome jail. 
 
 Stud. Nay, prythee, friend, these wonted terms forego, 
 He doubles grief that comments on a woe. ii 
 
 Phil. Why do fond men term it impiety. 
 
 To send a wearisome sad grudging ghost, 
 Unto his home, his long, long, lasting home ? 
 Or let them make our life less grievous be. 
 Or suffer us to end our misery. 
 
 Stud. Oh no, the sentinel his watch must keep. 
 Until his lord do licence him to sleep. 
 
 Phil. It's time to sleep within our hollow graves. 
 
 And rest us in the darksome womb of earth : 20 
 
 Dead things are graved, and bodies are no less 
 Pined and forlorn like ghostly carcases. 
 
 Stud. Not long this tap of loathed life can run ; 
 Soon Cometh death, and then our woe is done. 
 Meantime, good Philomusus, be content. 
 Let's spend our days in hopeful merriment. 
 
 Phil. Curst be our thoughts whene'er they dream of 
 hope ; 
 Ban'd be those haps that henceforth flatter us, 
 When mischief dogs us still and still for aye, 
 62
 
 from Parnassus act hi. sc. 5. 
 
 From our first birth until our burying day. 30 
 
 In our first gamesome age, our doting sires 
 
 Carked and cared to have us lettered : 
 
 Sent us to Cambridge, where our oil is spent : 
 
 Us our kind college from the teat did tear : 
 
 And forced us walk before we weaned were. 
 
 From that time since wandered have we still ; 
 
 In the wide world, urg'd by our forced will, 
 
 Nor ever have we happy fortune tried : 
 
 Then why should hope with our rent state abide ? 
 
 Nay let us run unto the baseful cave, 40 
 
 Pight in the hollow ribs of craggy cliff, 
 
 Where dreary owls do shriek the live-long night, 
 
 Chasing away the birds of cheerful light : 
 
 Where yawning ghosts do howl in ghastly wise, 
 
 Where that dull hollow-eyed, that staring sire, 
 
 Yclept Despair, hath his sad mansion ; 
 
 Him let us find, and by his counsel we, 
 
 Will end our too much irked misery. 
 
 Stud. To wail thy haps, argues a dastard mind. 
 
 Phil. To bear too long, argues an ass's kind. 50 
 
 Stud. Long since the worst chance of the die was cast. 
 
 Phil. But why should that word 'worst' so long time 
 last? 
 
 Stud. Why dost thou now these sleepy plaints com- 
 mence ? 
 
 Phil. Why should I e'er be dulled with patience ? 
 
 Stud. Wise folk do bear what struggling cannot mend. 
 
 63
 
 ACTiii. sc. 5. 'The Return 
 
 Phil. Good spirits must with thwarting fates contend. 
 
 Sttid. Some hope is left our fortunes to redress. 
 
 Phil. No hope but this, e'er to be comfortless. 
 
 Stud. Our life's remainder gentler hearts may find. 60 
 
 Phil. The gentlest hearts to us will prove unkind. 
 
 64
 
 from Parnassus act iv. sc. i. 
 
 ACTUS IV 
 
 SCENA I 
 
 Sir Raderic and Prodigo, at one corner of the Stage; 
 Recorder and A?noretto, at the other. — Two Pages 
 scouring of tobacco pipes. 
 
 Sir Rad. Master Prodigo, Master Recorder, hath told you 
 law, your land is forfeited ; and for me not to take 
 the forfeiture, were to break the Queen's law ; for 
 mark you, it's law to take the forfeiture ; therefore 
 not to take it, is to break the Queen's law ; and 
 to break the Queen's law, is not to be a good 
 subject, and I mean to be a good subject. Besides, 
 I am a justice of the peace ; and being justice of the 
 peace, I must do justice, that is law, that is to take 
 the forfeiture, especially having taken notice of it. 
 Marry, master Prodigo, here are a few shillings 
 over and besides the bargain. 12 
 
 Prod. Pox on your shillings ; s'blood a while ago, before 
 he had me in the lurch, who but my cousin Prodigo ; 
 you are welcome, my cousin Prodigo ; take my 
 F 6:;
 
 ACT IV. sc. I. The Return 
 
 cousin Prodigo's horse ; a cup of wine for my 
 cousin Prodigo ; good faith you shall sit here, 
 good cousin Prodigo, a clean trencher for my 
 cousin Prodigo ; have a special care of my cousin 
 Prodigo's lodging : now master Prodigo with a 
 pox, and a few shillings for a vantage. A plague on 
 your shillings ! Pox on your shillings ! If it were not 
 for the Serjeant which dogs me at my heels, a 
 plague on your shillings, pox on your shillings I pox 
 on your self and your shillings ! pox on your worship ! 
 if I catch thee at Ostend — I dare not stay for the 
 Serjeant. [Exi^. 27 
 
 Sir Rad. Page. Good faith, master Prodigo is an 
 excellent fellow, he takes the gulan ebullitio so 
 excellently. 
 
 Amor. Page. He is a good liberal gentleman ; he hath 
 bestowed an ounce of tobacco upon us, and as long 
 as it lasts, come cut and long-tail, we'll spend it as 
 liberally for his sake. 
 
 Sir Rad. Page. Come fill the pipe quickly, while my 
 master is in his melancholy humour ; it's just the 
 melancholy of a collier's horse. 
 
 Amor. Page. If you cough, Jack, after your tobacco, for 
 a punishment you shall kiss the pantofle. 39 
 
 Sir Rad. It's a foul oversight, that a man of worship 
 
 cannot keep a wench in his house, but there must 
 
 be muttering and surmising. It was the wisest 
 
 saying that my father ever uttered, that a wife was 
 
 66
 
 from Parnassus act iv. sc. i. 
 
 the name of necessity, not of pleasure : for what do 
 men marry for, but to stock their ground, and to 
 have one to look to the hnen, sit at the upper end 
 of the table, and carve up a capon ; one that can 
 wear a hood like a hawk, and cover her foul face 
 with a fan ; but there's no pleasure always to be 
 tied to a piece of mutton ; sometimes a mess oi 
 stewed broth will do well, and an unlaced rabbit is 
 best of all ; well, for mine own part, I have no great 
 cause to complain, for I am well provided of three 
 bouncing wenches, that are mine own fee-simple ; 
 one of them I am presently to visit, if I can rid my 
 self cleanly of this company. Let me see how the 
 day goes : {he pulls his watch out.) Precious coals, 
 the time is at hand, I must meditate on an excuse to 
 begone. 59 
 
 Rec. The which I say, is grounded on the statute I spake 
 of before, enacted in the reign of Henry the VI. 
 
 Amor. It is a plain case, whereon I mooted in our 
 Temple, and that was this : put case, there be three 
 brethren, John a Nokes, John a Nash, and John a 
 Stile ; John a Nokes the elder, John a Nash the 
 younger, John a Stile the youngest of all ; John a 
 Nash the younger, dieth without issue of his body 
 lawfully begotten ; whether shall his lands ascend to 
 lohn a Nokes the elder, or descend to John a Stile 
 the youngest of all ? The answer is : the lands do 
 collaterally descend, not ascend. 71 
 
 67
 
 ACT IV. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 Rec. Very true ; and for a proof hereof, I will shew you 
 a place in Littleton, which is very pregnant in this 
 point. 
 
 SCENA II 
 
 Enter Ingenioso^ Furor, Pha7itasma, 
 
 Ing. I'll pawn my wits, that is, my revenues, my land, 
 my money, and whatsoever I have, for I have 
 nothing but my wit, that they are at hand ; why any 
 sensible snout may wind master Amoretto and his 
 pomander, master Recorder and his two neat's 
 feet that wear no socks, Sir Raderic by his 
 rammish complexion. Olet Gorgonius hircum, sicut 
 Lupus in fabula. Furor, fire the touch-box of your 
 wit ; Phantasma, let your invention play tricks 
 like an ape ; begin thou, Furor, and open like a 
 flap-mouthed hound ; follow thou, Phantasma, like 
 a lady's puppy ; and as for me, let me alone, I'll 
 come after like a water-dog, that will shake them 
 off when I have no use of them. My masters, the 
 watchword is given : Furor discharge. 15 
 
 Fur. [To Sir Rad.] The great projector of the thunder- 
 bolts 
 He that is wont to piss whole clouds of rain. 
 Into the earth, vast gaping urinal. 
 Which that one-eyed subsizer of the sky, 20 
 
 Dan Phoebus, empties bv calidity : 
 68
 
 from Parnassus act iv. sc. 2. 
 
 He and his townsmen planets bring to thee, 
 Most fatty lumps of earth's fecundity. 
 
 Sir Rad. Why will this fellow's English break the 
 Queen's peace ? I will not seem to regard him. 
 
 Phan. [To Am.] M<zccB7ias atavis edite regibus^ 
 (9, et prcBsidiwn, et dulce decics 7neum^ 
 Dii faciant votis vela secunda tins. 
 
 Ing. God save you, good master Recorder, and good 
 fortunes follow your deserts ; I think I have curst 
 him sufficiently in few words. 31 
 
 Sir Rad. What have we here, three begging soldiers : 
 Come you from Ostend, or from Ireland ? 
 
 Page. Ciijic7n pecus? an Melibcei? I have vented all the 
 Latin one man had. 
 
 Phan. Quid dicajn ainplius ? do7}ii?n si7iiilis os. 
 
 A7nor. Page. Let him not alone I pray thee ; to him 
 again, tickle him there. 
 
 Phan. Qua7n dispari do)7ii7io do7iii7iaris ? 
 
 Rec. Nay, that's plain in Littleton ; for if that fee- 
 simple and the fee-tail be put together, it is called 
 hotch-potch ; now this word hotch-potch in English, 
 is a pudding ; for in such a pudding is not commonly 
 one thing only, but one thing with another. 44 
 
 A77ior. I think I do remember this also at a mooting in 
 our Temple ; so then this hotch-potch seems a 
 term of similitude. 
 
 Fur. [To Sir Rad.] Great Capricornus, of thy head take 
 keep ; 
 
 69
 
 ACT IV. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 Good MrgOj watch, while that thy worship sleep ; 50 
 And when thy swelling vents amain, 
 Then Pisces be thy sporting chamberlain. 
 
 Sir Rad. I think the devil hath sent some of his family 
 to torment me. 
 
 Amor. There is tail - general, and tail - special, and 
 Littleton is very copious in that theme ; for tail- 
 general is, when lands are given to a man and his 
 heirs of his body begotten ; tail-special, is when 
 lands are given to a man and to his wife, and to the 
 heirs of their two bodies lawfully begotten, and 
 that is called tail-special. 61 
 
 Sir Rad. Very well, and for his oath I will give a 
 distinction ; there is a material oath, and a formal 
 oath ; the formal oath may be broken, the material 
 may not be broken : for mark you, sir, the law is to 
 take place before the conscience, and therefore you 
 may, using me your counseller, cast him in the suit : 
 there wants nothing to the full meaning of this place. 
 
 Pha?t. Nihil hie nisi carjjiina desu?2t. 69 
 
 Ing. An excellent observation in good faith ; see how 
 the old fox teacheth the young cub to worry a 
 sheep, or rather sits himself like an old goose, 
 hatching the addle brain of master Amoretto : 
 there is no fool to the satin fool, the velvet fool, 
 the perfumed fool ; and therefore the witty tailors 
 of this age put them, under colour of kindness, into 
 a pair of cloth-bags, where a voider will not serve 
 70
 
 from Parnassus act iv. sc. 2. 
 
 the turn : and there is no knave to the barbarous 
 knave, the moulting knave, the pleading knave : 
 what ho, master Recorder, master Noverint 
 universi per presejifes, not a word he, unless he 
 feel it in his fist. 82 
 
 Phan. Mitto tibi inerulas^ cancros imitare legendo. 
 
 Sir Rad. [To Fur.] Fellow, what art thou that art so bold ? 
 
 Fur. I am the bastard of great Mercury, 
 Got on Thalia when she was asleep : 
 My gaudy grandsire, great Apollo hight, 
 Born was, I hear, but that my luck was ill. 
 To all the land upon the forked hill. 
 
 Phan. O crudelis Alexia nil viea carfuina cur as ? 90 
 
 Nil nostri miserere ? viori me dejiique coges ? 
 
 Sir Rad. Page. If you use them thus, my master is a 
 justice of peace, and will send you all to the gallows. 
 
 Phan. Hei ?nihi, quod domino no?i licet ire tuo. 
 
 Ing. Good Master Recorder, let me retain you this 
 term for my cause — for my cause, good Master 
 Recorder. 
 
 Rec. I am retained already on the contrary part ; I have 
 taken my fee ; begone, begone. 99 
 
 Ing. It's his meaning I should come off; why here is a 
 true style of a villain, the true faith of a lawyer ; it 
 is usual with them to be bribed on the one side, and 
 then to take a fee of the other ; to plead weakly, 
 and to be bribed, and rebribed, on the one side, then 
 to be feed, and refeed, of the other, till at length, 
 
 71
 
 ACT IV. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 pc7' varios casus, by putting the case so often, they 
 make their clients so lank, that they may case them 
 up in a comb-case, and pack them home from the 
 term, as though they had travelled to London to sell 
 their horse only, and having lost their fleeces, live 
 afterward like poor shorn sheep. 1 1 1 
 
 Fur. The gods above, that know great Furor's fame, 
 And do adore grand poet Furor's name ; 
 Granted long since at heaven's high parliament, 
 That whoso Furor shall immortalize, 
 No yavv^ning goblins shall frequent his grave, 
 Nor any bold, presumptuous cur shall dare. 
 To lift his leg against his sacred dust. 
 Where'er I have my rhymes, thence vermin fly. 
 All, saving that foul-fac'd vermin poverty. 120 
 
 This sucks the eggs of my invention ; 
 Evacuates my wit's full pigeon-house. 
 Now may it please thy generous dignity, 
 To take this vermin napping as he lies 
 In the true trap of liberality, 
 ril cause the Pleiades to give thee thanks, 
 I'll write thy name within the sixteenth sphere 
 I'll make the Antarctic pole to kiss thy toe, 130 
 
 And Cynthia to do homage to thy tail. 
 
 Sir Rad. Precious coals, thou a man of worship and 
 justice too ? It's even so, he is either a mad man, 
 or a conjurer : it were well if his words were 
 examined, to see if they be the Queen's, or no. 
 72
 
 from Parnassus act iv. sc. 2. 
 
 PJum. Nunc si ?ios atidis^ 7it qui es divimts Apolhy 
 Die 7ni/ii, qtci niwwios non habet^ tinde petatf 
 
 A?nor. I am still haunted with these needy Latinist 
 fellows — the best counsel I can give is to be gone. 
 
 Phan. Quodpeto da^ Caie ; non peto consiliutn. 
 
 Amor. Fellow, look to your brains ; you are mad, you 
 are mad. 140 
 
 Phan. Semel i)isanivimus oinnes. 
 
 Amor. Master Recorder, is it not a shame that a gallant 
 cannot walk the street quietly for needy fellows, 
 and that, after there is a statute come out against 
 begging ? \He strikes his breast, 
 
 Phan. Pectora percussit, pectus quoque roborafiunt. 
 
 Rec. I warrant you, they are some needy graduates : 
 the university breaks wind twice a year, and lets fly 
 such as these are. 149 
 
 Ing. So ho. Master Recorder, you that are one of the 
 devil's fellow - commoners ; one that sizeth the 
 devil's butteries, sins, and perjuries very lavishly ; 
 one that are so dear to Lucifer, that he never 
 puts you out of commons for non-payment ; you 
 that live like a sumner, upon the sins of the 
 people ; you whose vocation serves to enlarge the 
 territories of hell, that (but for you) had been 
 no bigger than a pair of stocks, or a pillory ; 
 you, that hate a scholar, because he descries your 
 ass's ears ; you that are a plague stuffed cloak- 
 bag of all iniquity, which the grand serving man 
 
 73
 
 ACT IV. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 of hell, will one day truss up behind him, and 
 carry to his smoky wardrobe. 163 
 
 Rec. What frantic fellow art thou, that art possessed with 
 the spirit of malediction ? 
 
 Fur. Vile muddy clod of base, unhallowed clay, 
 Thou slimy-sprighted, unkind Saracen, 
 When thou wert born, dame Nature cast her calf; 
 For age and time had made thee a great ox. 
 And now thy grinding jaws devour quite 170 
 
 The fodder due to us of heavenly spright. 
 
 Phan. Nefasto ieposuit die^ quiciinqiie priimnn et sacrilega 
 viamt^ 
 Prodiixit arbos i?i nepotum pernicievi ob proprhonque 
 pugi. 
 
 big. I pray you. Monsieur Plowdon, of what university 
 was the first lawyer of? None forsooth, for your law 
 is ruled by reason, and not by art : great reason 
 indeed, that a Plowdenist should be mounted on a 
 trapped palfrey, with a round velvet dish on his 
 head, to keep warm the broth of his wit, and a long 
 gown, that makes him look like a cedatti arma 
 togcE^ whilst the poor Aristotelians walk in a short 
 cloak, and a close Venetian hose, hard by the 
 oyster-wife ; and the silly poet goes muffled in his 
 cloak, to escape the Counter. And you. Master 
 Amoretto, that art the chief carpenter of sonnets, a 
 privileged vicar for the lawless marriage of ink 
 and paper, you that are good for nothing but to 
 
 74
 
 from Parnassus act iv. sc. 2. 
 
 commend in a set speech, to colour the quantity 
 of your mistress stool, and swear it is most 
 sweet civet ; it's fine when that puppet-player 
 Fortune, must put such a Birchen-lane post in so 
 good a suit, such an ass in so good fortune. 194 
 
 Amor. Father, shall I draw? 
 
 Sir Rad. No, son, keep the peace, and hold thy peace. 
 
 Ing. Nay, do not draw, lest you chance to bepiss your credit. 
 
 Fur. Fleeter e si izeqiieo super os^ Acheron fa 7?iovebo. 
 
 Fearful Megaera, with her snaky twine, 200 
 
 Was cursed dam into thy damned self ; 
 
 And Hircan tigers in the desert rocks. 
 
 Did foster up thy loathed hateful life ; 
 
 Base ignorance the wicked cradle rocked ; 
 
 Vile barbarism was wont to dandle thee ; 
 
 Some wicked hell-hound tutored thy youth, 
 
 And all the grisly sprights of griping hell. 
 
 With mumming looks have dogged thee since thy 
 
 birth. 
 See how the spirits do hover o'er thy head, 
 As thick as gnats in summer eveningtide. 210 
 
 Baleful Alecto, prythee stay a while. 
 Till with my verses I have racked his soul ; 
 And when thy soul departs, a cock may be, 
 No blank at all in hell's great lottery. 
 Shame sits and howls upon thy loathed grave, 
 And howling, vomits up in filthy guise. 
 The hidden stories of thy villanies. 217 
 
 75
 
 ACT IV. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 Sir Rad. The devil, my masters, the devil in the 
 likeness of a poet ; away, my masters, away. 
 
 \_Exit. 
 
 Phan. Arma, viriunque cano. 
 Quern fugis ? ah deine7is ! 
 
 Amor. Base dog, it is not the custom in Italy to draw 
 upon every idle cur that barks, and did it stand 
 with my reputation : — oh, well go to, thank my 
 father for your lives. 
 
 Ing. Fond gull, whom I would undertake to bastinado 
 quickly, though there were a musket planted in 
 thy mouth ; are not you the young drover of 
 livings Academico told me of, that haunts steeple 
 fairs ? Base worm, must thou needs discharge thy 
 carbin to batter down the walls of learning ? 231 
 
 Amor. I think I have committed some great sin 
 against my mistress, that I am thus tormented with 
 notable villains, bold peasants. I scorn, I scorn 
 them ! 
 
 Fur. [To Rec-I Nay prythee, good sweet devil, do not 
 thou part, 
 I like an honest devil that will shew 
 Himself in a true hellish smoky hue : 
 How like thy snout is to great Lucifer's ! 240 
 
 Such talons had he, such a glaring eye, 
 And such a cunning sleight in villany. 
 
 Rec. Oh the impudency of this age ! And if I take you 
 in my quarters. [Exeuni Sir Rad.^ A mor^ (wd Record. 
 
 76
 
 from Parnassus act iv. sc. 3. 
 
 Fur. Base slave, I'll hang thee on a crossed rhyme, And 
 quarter. 
 
 Ing. He is gone, Furor, stay thy fury. 
 
 Sir Rad. Page. I pray you, gentlemen, give 3 groats for 
 a shilling. 
 
 Imor. Page. What will you give me for a good old suit 
 of apparel? 251 
 
 Phan. Habet et musca splenem^ et formiccE siiabilis inest. 
 
 Iftg. Gramercy, good lads, this is our share in happi- 
 ness, to torment the happy : let's walk along, and 
 laugh at the jest ; it's no staying here long, lest 
 Sir Raderic's army of bailiffs and clowns be sent 
 to apprehend us. 
 
 Phan. Procul hinc, procul ife, prof am. 
 
 I'll lash Apollo's self with jerking hand. 
 Unless he pawn his wit to buy me land. 260 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENA III 
 
 Burbage^ Kemp. 
 
 Bur. Now, Will Kemp, if we can entertain these 
 scholars at a low rate, it will be well, they have 
 oftentimes a good conceit in a part. 
 
 Kemp. It's true indeed, honest Dick, but the slaves 
 are somewhat proud ; and besides, it is a good 
 sport in a part to see them never speak in their 
 
 77
 
 ACT IV. sc. 3. The Return 
 
 walk, but at the end of the stage, just as though 
 in walking with a fellow we should never speak 
 but at a stile, a gate, or a ditch, where a man can 
 go no further. I was once at a comedy in Cam- 
 bridge, and there I saw a parasite make faces and 
 mouths of all sorts on this fashion. 12 
 
 Bur, A little teaching will mend these faults, and it 
 may be besides they will be able to pen a part. 
 
 Kemp. Few of the university pen play well ; they 
 smell too much of that writer Ovid, and that wnriter 
 Metamorphosis, and talk too much of Proserpina 
 and Jupiter. Why here's our fellow Shakespeare 
 puts them all down — ay, and Ben Jonson too. O 
 that Ben Jonson is a pestilent fellow ; he brought 
 up Horace, giving the poets a pill ; but our fellow 
 Shakespeare hath given him a purge, that made 
 him bewray his credit. 23 
 
 Bur. It's a shrewd fellow indeed. I wonder these scholars 
 stay so long, they appointed to be here presently, 
 that we might try them : oh, here they come. 
 
 Stud. Take heart, these lets our clouded thoughts 
 refine ; 
 The sun shines brightest when it 'gins decline. 
 
 Bur. Master Philomusus and Master Studioso, God save 
 you. 
 
 Kemp. Master Philomusus and Master Otioso, well met. 
 
 Phil. The same to you, good Master Burbage. What 
 Master Kemp, how doth the Emperor of Germany? 
 
 7«
 
 from Parnassus act iv. sc. 3. 
 
 Stud. God save you, Master Kemp ; welcome, Master 
 Kemp, from dancing the morrice over the Alps. 36 
 
 Kempe. Well, you merry knaves, you may come to the 
 honour of it one day. Is it not better to make a 
 fool of the world as I have done, than to be fooled 
 of the world, as you scholars are ? But be merry, 
 my lads, you have happened upon the most excellent 
 vocation in the world for money : they come north 
 and south to bring it to our playhouse ; and for 
 honours, who of more report than Dick Burbage, 
 and Will Kemp ; he is not counted a gentleman, 
 that knows not Dick Burbage, and Will Kemp ; 
 there's not a country wench that can dance " Sel- 
 lengers Round," but can talk of Dick Burbage, and 
 Will Kemp. 49 
 
 Phil. Indeed, M. Kemp, you are very famous ; but 
 that is as well for works in print, as your part 
 in cue. 
 
 Ke^npe. You are at Cambridge still with size cue, and 
 be lusty humorous poets, you must untruss ; I rode 
 this my last circuit, purposely because I would be 
 judge of your actions. 56 
 
 Bur. Master Studioso, I pray you, take some part in this 
 book, and act it, that I may see what will fit you best ; 
 I think your voice would serve for Hieronimo ; 
 observe how I act it, and then imitate me. \He recites. 
 
 Stud. "W^ho calls Hieronimo from his naked bed? 
 And, &c." 
 
 79
 
 ACT IV. sc. 3. The Return 
 
 Bur, You will do well after a while. 63 
 
 Kemp. Now for you. Methinks you should belong to 
 my tuition, and your face methinks would be good 
 for a foolish mayor, or a foolish justice of the peace. 
 
 Mark me. Forasmuch as there be two states 
 
 of a commonwealth, the one of peace, the other of 
 tranquillity ; two states of war, the one of discord, 
 the other of dissension ; two states of an incorpo- 
 ration, the one of the aldermen, the other of the 
 brethren ; two states of magistrates, the one of 
 governing, the other of bearing rule ; now — as I 
 said even now, for a good thing cannot be 
 said too often — virtue is the shoeinghorn of 
 justice ; that is, virtue is the shoeinghorn of 
 doing well ; that is, virtue is the shoeinghorn of 
 doing justly : it behoveth me, and is my part to 
 commend this shoeinghorn unto you. I hope this 
 word shoeinghorn doth not offend any of you, my 
 worshipful brethren ; for you being the worshipful 
 headsmen of the town, know well what the horn 
 meaneth. Now therefore I am determined not only 
 to teach, but also to instruct, not only the ignorant, 
 but also the simple, not only what is their duty 
 towards their betters, but also what is their duty 
 towards their superiors. Come, let me see how 
 you can do ; sit down in the chair. 88 
 
 Phil. " Forasmuch as there be, &c." 
 
 Kemp. Thou wilt do well in time, if ihou wilt be ruled 
 80
 
 from Parnassus act iv. sc. 3. 
 
 by ihy betters, that is by myself, and such grave 
 
 aldermen of the playhouse as I am. 
 Bur. I like your face, and the proportion of your body 
 
 for Richard III. ; I pray. Master Philomusus let me 
 
 see you act a little of it. 
 Phil. ' Now is the winter of our discontent 
 
 Made glorious summer by the sun of York.' 
 Bur. Very well, I assure you ; well. Master Philomusus 
 
 and Master Studioso, we see what ability you are of; 
 
 I pray walk with us to our fellows, and we'll agree 
 
 presently. loi 
 
 Phil. We will follow you straight. Master Burbage. 
 Kemp. It's good manners to follow us. Master Philomusus 
 
 and Master Otioso. [Exeunt 
 
 Phil. And must the basest trade yield us relief? 
 
 Must we be practis'd to those leaden spouts. 
 
 That nought down vent but what they do receive ? 
 
 Some fatal fire hath scorched our fortune's wing, 
 
 And still we fall, as we do upward spring ; 
 
 As we strive upward to the vaulted sky, no 
 
 We fall, and feel our hateful destiny. 
 Stud. Wonder it is, sweet friend, thy pleading breath, 
 
 So like the sweet blast of the southwest wind. 
 
 Melts not those rocks of ice, those mounts of woe, 
 
 Congealed in frozen hearts of men below. 
 Phil. Wonder as well thou may'st, why 'mongst the waves 
 
 'Mongst the tempestuous waves on raging sea, 
 
 The wailing merchant can no pity crave 
 
 G 81
 
 ACT IV. sc. 3. ^^^ Return 
 
 What cares the wind and weather for their pains ? 
 
 One strikes the sail, another turns the same, 120 
 
 He shakes the main, another takes the oar, 
 
 Another laboureth and taketh pain. 
 
 To pump the sea into the sea again. 
 
 Still they take pains, still the loud winds do blow. 
 
 Till the ship's prouder mast be laid below : 
 
 Sfzid. Fond world, that ne'er thinks on that aged man. 
 That Ariosto's old swift-paced man, 
 Whose name is Time, who never lins to run, 
 Loaden with bundles of decayed names. 
 The which in Lethe lake he doth entomb, 130 
 
 Save only those which swanlike scholars take. 
 And do deliver from that greedy lake. 
 Inglorious may they live, inglorious die. 
 That suffer learning live in misery. 
 
 PM/. What care they what fame their ashes have. 
 When once they're cooped up in silent grave ? 
 
 S/ud. If for fair fame they hope not when they die. 
 Yet let them fear grave staining infamy. 
 
 P/nL Their spendthrift heirs will those fire-brands 
 quench, 140 
 
 Swaggering full moistly on a tavern's bench. 
 
 S/ud. No shamed sire for all his glosing heir. 
 Must long be talked of in the empty air. 
 
 Stud. Believe me, thou that art my second self, 
 My vexed soul is not disquieted, 
 For that I miss, that gaudy painted state, 
 82
 
 from Parnassus act iv. sc. 3. 
 
 Whereat my fortunes fairly aimed of late. 
 
 For what am I, the mean'st of many mo, 
 
 That, earning profit, are repaid with wo ? 
 
 But this it is that doth my soul torment, 150 
 
 To think so many activable wits, 
 
 That might contend with proudest bards of Po, 
 
 Sit now immured within their private cells, 
 
 Drinking a long lank watching candle's smoke, 
 
 Spending the marrow of their flowering age. 
 
 In fruitless poring on some worm.-eat leaf: 
 
 When their deserts shall seem of due to claim, 
 
 A cheerful crop of fruitful swelling sheaf ; 
 
 Cockle their harvest is, and weeds their grain. 
 
 Contempt their portion, their possession pain. 160 
 
 Scholars must frame to live at a low sail. 
 
 Phil. Ill sailing where there blows no happy gale. 
 
 Stud. Our ship is ruined, all her tackling rent. 
 
 Phil. And all her gaudy furniture is spent. 
 
 Stud. Tears be the waves whereon her ruins bide. 
 
 Phil. And sighs the winds that waste her broken side. 
 
 Stud. Mischief the pilot is the ship to steer. 
 
 Phil. And woe the passenger this ship doth bear. 
 
 Stud. Come, Philomusus, let us break this chat. 
 
 Phil. And break my heart ! oh would I could break 
 that! 171 
 
 Stud. Let's learn to act that tragic part we have. 
 
 Phil. Would I were silent actor in my grave ! 
 
 83
 
 ACT V. sc. I. The Return 
 
 ACTUS V 
 
 SCENA I 
 
 Philomusiis and Studios o become Fiddlers; with their 
 concert. 
 
 Phil. And tune, fellow-fiddlers ; Studioso and I are 
 ready. [ They tune. 
 
 Stud. {Going aside ^ say eth) Fair fell good Orpheus, that 
 would rather be 
 King of a mole hill, then a keysar's slave : 
 Better it is 'mongst fiddlers to be chief, 
 Then at a player's trencher beg relief. 
 But is't not strange, this mimic ape should prize 
 Unhappy scholars at a hireling rate ? 
 Vile world, that lifts them up to high degree, lo 
 
 And treads us down in grovelling misery. 
 England affords those glorious vagabonds. 
 That carried erst their fardels on their backs. 
 Coursers to ride on through the gazing streets, 
 Sweeping it in their glaring satin suits, 
 And pages to attend their masterships : 
 With mouthing words that better wits have framed, 
 They purchase lands, and now esquires are named. 
 
 84
 
 from Parnassus act v. sc. i. 
 
 Phil. Whate'er they seem being even at the best, 
 
 They are but sporting fortune's scornful jest. 20 
 
 Stud. So merry fortune's wont from rags to take 
 
 Some ragged groom, and him a gallant make. 
 PJiil. The world and fortune hath play'd on us too long. 
 Stud. Now to the world we fiddle must a song. 
 Phil. Our life is a plain song with cunning penned. 
 
 Whose highest pitch in lowest base doth end. 
 
 But see our fellows unto play are bent ; 
 
 If not our minds, let's tune our instrument. 
 Stud. Let's in a private song our cunning try, 
 
 Before we sing to stranger company. 30 
 
 Phil, sings. The tune. 
 
 How can he sing, whose voice is hoarse with care ? 
 How can he play, whose heart strings broken are ? 
 How can he keep his rest, that ne'er found rest ? 
 How can he keep his time, whom time ne'er blessed ? 
 Only he can in sorrow bear a part, 
 With untaught hand, and with untuned heart. 
 Fond hearts, farewell, that swallowed have my youth. 
 Adieu, vain muses, that have wrought my ruth. 
 Repent, fond sire, that trained'st thy hapless 
 son, 40 
 
 In learning's lore since bounteous alms are done. 
 Cease, cease, harsh tongue, untuned music rest : 
 Entomb thy sorrows in thy hollow breast. 
 Stud. Thanks, Philomusus, for thy pleasant song, 
 
 8s
 
 ACT V. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 Oh had this world a touch of juster grief, 
 Hard rocks would weep for want of our relief! 
 
 Phil. The cold of woe hath quite untun'd my voice, 
 And made it too too harsh for listening ear : 
 Time was, in time of my young fortune's spring, 
 I was a gamesome boy, and learned to sing. 50 
 
 But say, fellow musicians, you know best whither 
 we go ; at what door must we imperiously beg ? 
 
 Jack Fid. Here dwells Sir Raderic and his son : it 
 may be now at this good time of New- Year he will 
 be liberal ; let us stand near and draw. 
 
 Phil. Draw, callest thou it ; indeed it is the most 
 desperate kind of service that ever I adventured 
 on. 
 
 SCENA II 
 
 Enter the two Pages. 
 
 Sir Rad. Page. My master bids me tell you, that he 
 is but newly fallen asleep, and you base slaves 
 must come and disquiet him ; what, never a basket 
 of capons ? mass, and if he comes, he'll commit 
 you all. 
 
 Amor. Page. Sirrah 'Jack, shall you and I play Sir 
 Raderic and Amoretto, and reward these fiddlers? 
 I'll my master Amoretto, and give them as much as 
 he useth. 
 
 86
 
 from Parnassus act v. sc. 2. 
 
 Sir Rad. Page. And I my old master Sir Raderic : fiddlers 
 play ; I'll reward you, faith I will. \They play. 11 
 
 Ainor. Page. Good faith, this pleaseth my sweet mistress 
 admirably : cannot you play ' T witty twatty' foole, or 
 ' To be at her, to be at her.' 
 
 Sir Rad. Page. Have you never a song of Master 
 Dowland's making ? 
 
 Amor. Page. Or, hos ego versiclos feci., &^c. A pox on 
 it, my master Amoretto useth it very often. I have 
 forgotten the verse. 19 
 
 Sir Rad. Page. Sirrah Amoretto : here are a couple of 
 fellows brought before me, and I know not how to 
 decide the cause ; look in my Christmas book who 
 brought me a present. 
 
 Amor. Page. On New-year's day, goodman Fool 
 brought you a present, but goodman Clown 
 brought you none. 
 
 Sir Rad. Page. Then the right is on goodman Fool's 
 side. 
 
 Amor. Page. My mistress is so sweet, that all the 
 physicians in the town cannot make her stink ; 
 she never goes to the stool ; oh she is a most 
 sweet little monkey. Please your worship, good 
 father, yonder are some would speak with you. '^'}> 
 
 Sir Rad. Page. What, have they brought me any thing ? 
 if they have not, say I take physic. Forasmuch, 
 fiddlers, as I am of the peace, I must needs love 
 all weapons and instruments, that are for the peace, 
 
 «7
 
 ACT V. sc. 2. The Return 
 
 among which, I account your fiddles, because they 
 can neither bite or scratch ; marry, now finding your 
 fiddles to jar, and knowing that jarring is a cause 
 of breaking the peace, I am, by the virtue of my 
 office, and place, to commit your quarrelling fiddles 
 to close prisonment in their cases. 43 
 
 They call within^ Sha ho, Richard, Jack ! 
 
 Amor. Page. The fool within, mars our play without. 
 Fiddlers, set it on my head, I use to size my 
 music, or go on the score for it ; I'll pay it at the 
 quarter's end. 
 
 Sir Rad. Page. Farewell, good Pan, sweet Thamyras, 
 adieu ! Dan Orpheus, a thousand times farewell. 50 
 
 Jack Fid. You swore you would pay us for our music. 
 
 Sir Rad. Page. For that, I'll give Master Recorder's law, 
 and that is this, there is a double oath, a formal 
 oath, and a material oath ; a material oath cannot 
 be broken, the formal oath may be broken. I swore 
 formally : farewell, fiddlers. 
 
 Phil. Farewell, good wags, whose wits praiseworth I 
 deem ; 
 Though somewhat waggish ; so we all have been. 
 
 Stud. Faith, fellow fiddlers, here's no silver found in this 
 
 place ; no, not so much as the usual Christmas 
 
 entertainment of musicians, a black jack of beer, 
 
 and a Christmas pie. 62 
 
 \They walk aside fro7 it their fellows. 
 
 Phil. Where'er we in the wide world playing be, 
 88
 
 from Parnassus act v. sc. 2. 
 
 Misfortune bears a part, and mars our melody ; 
 
 Impossible to please with music strain, 
 
 Our heart strings broken are ne'er to be tuned again. 
 
 Stud. Then let us leave this baser fiddling trade, 
 
 For though our purse should mend, our credits fade. 
 
 Phil. Full glad I am to see thy mind's free course. 
 
 Declining from this trencher-waiting trade. 70 
 
 Well may I now disclose in plainer guise, 
 
 What erst I meant to work in secret wise : 
 
 My busy conscience checked my guilty soul, 
 
 For seeking maintenance by base vassalage, 
 
 And then suggested to my searching thought, 
 
 A shepherd's poor secure contented life. 
 
 On which since then I doated every hour. 
 
 And meant this same hour in sadder plight. 
 
 To have stolen from thee in secrecy of night. 79 
 
 Stud. Dear friend, thou seem'st to Avrong my soul too 
 much. 
 Thinking that Studioso would account. 
 That fortune sour, which thou accountest sweet ; 
 Not any life to me can sweeter be. 
 Than happy swains in plain of Arcady. 
 
 Phil. Why then let's both go spend our little store. 
 In the provision of due furniture : 
 A shepherd's hook, a tarbox, and a scrip ; 
 And haste, unto those sheep-adorned hills, 89 
 
 Where if not bless our fortunes, we may bless our 
 wills. 
 
 89
 
 ACT V. sc. 3. The Return 
 
 Stud. True mirth we may enjoy in thacked stall, 
 Nor hoping higher rise, nor fearing lower fall. 
 
 Phil. We'll, therefore, discharge these fiddlers. Fellow, 
 musicians, we are sorry that it hath been your ill 
 hap to have had us in your company, that are 
 nothing but screech-owles, and night-ravens, able to 
 mar the purest melody ; and besides, our company 
 is so ominous, that where we are, thence liberality is 
 packing ; our resolution is therefore to wish you 
 well, and to bid you farewell. loi 
 
 Come, Studioso, let us haste away. 
 Returning ne'er to this accursed place. 
 
 SCENA III 
 Enter Ingenioso^ Academico. 
 
 Ing. Faith, Academico, it's the fear of that fellow, I 
 mean the sign of the sergeant's head, that makes 
 me to be so hasty to be gone : to be brief, Acade- 
 mico, writs are out for me, to apprehend me for my 
 plays, and now I am bound for the Isle of Dogs. 
 Furor, and Phantasma, come after, removing the 
 camp as fast as they can : farewell, mea si quid 
 vota valebunt. 8 
 
 Acad. Faith, Ingenioso, I think the university is a 
 melancholic life ; for there a good fellow cannot sit 
 90
 
 from Parnassus act v. sc. 4. 
 
 two hours in his chamber, but he shall be troubled 
 with the bill of a drawer, or a vintner : but the point 
 is, I know not how to better my self, and so I am 
 fain to take it. 
 
 SCENA IV 
 
 Philomusus^ Studioso^ Furor^ Phantasma. 
 
 Phil. Who have we there ? Ingenioso, and Academico. 
 
 Stud. The very same. Who are those ? Furor, and 
 Phantasma. \_Furor takes a louse off his sleeve. 
 
 Fur. And art thou there, six-footed Mercury ? 
 
 Phan. {with his hand in his bosom.) Are rhymes become 
 such creepers now a days ? 
 Presumptuous louse, that doth good manners lack, 
 Daring to creep upon poet Furor's back : 
 Multum refert quibuscutn vixeris. 
 No?t videmus manticce quod in tergo est. 10 
 
 Phil. What, Furor and Phantasma too, our old college 
 fellows ; let us encounter them all, Ingenioso, 
 Academico, Furioso, Phantasma. God save you all. 
 
 Stud. What, Ingenioso, Academico, Furioso, Phantasma ; 
 how do you, brave lads ? 
 
 Ing, What, our dear friends, Philomusus and Studioso ? 
 
 Acad. What, our old friends, Philomusus and Studioso ? 
 
 Fur. What, my supernatural friends ? 
 
 Ing. What news with you in this quarter of the city ? 
 
 91
 
 ACT V. sc. 4. The Return 
 
 Phil. We've run through many trades, yet thrive by 
 none. 21 
 
 Poor in content, and only rich in moan, 
 A shepherd's life thou know'st I wont t' admire, 
 Turning a Cambridge apple by the fire. 
 To live in humble dale we now are bent, 
 Spending our days in fearless merriment. 
 
 Stud. We'll teach each tree, even of the hardest kind, 
 To keep our woeful name within their rind : 
 We'll watch our flock, and yet we'll sleep withal ; 
 We'll tune our sorrows to the water's fall ; 30 
 
 The woods and rocks with our shrill songs we'll 
 
 bless ; 
 Let them prove kind, since men prove pitiless. 
 
 But say, whither are you, and your company, jog- 
 ging? it seems, by your apparel, you are about to 
 wander. 
 
 Ing. Faith, we are fully bent to the Lords of Misrule in 
 the world's wide heath ; our voyage is to the Isle of 
 Dogs, there where the blatant beast doth rule and 
 reign, renting the credit of whom it please, 40 
 
 Where serpent's tongues, the penmen are to write, 
 Where cats do waul by day, and dogs by night : 
 There shall engorged venom be my ink. 
 My pen a sharper quill of porcupine, 
 My stained paper this sin-loaden earth : 
 There will I write in lines shall never die, 
 Our seared lordings' crying villany. 
 92
 
 from Parnassus act v. sc. 4. 
 
 Phil. A gentle wit thou hadst, nor is it blame, 
 
 To turn so tart, for time hath wronged the same. 
 
 Stud. And well thou dost from this fond earth to flit, 50 
 Where most men's pens are hired parasites. 
 
 Acad. Go happily, I wish thee store of gall, 
 Sharply to wound the guilty world withal. 
 
 Phil. But say, what shall become of Furor and Phan- 
 tasma ? 
 
 Ing. These my companions still with me must wend. 
 
 Acad. Fury and fancy on good wits attend. 
 
 Fur. When I arrive within the Isle of Dogs, 
 
 Dan Phoebus, I will make thee kiss the pump. 
 
 Thy one eye pries in every draper's stall, 60 
 
 Yet never thinks on poet Furor's need : 
 
 Furor is lousy, great Furor lousy is, 
 
 I'll make thee rue this lousie case I wis. 
 
 And thou, my sluttish laundress Cynthia, 
 
 Ne'er thinks on Furor's linen, Furor's shirt : 
 
 Thou and thy squirting boy Endymion, 
 
 Lies slavering still upon a lawless couch. 
 
 Furor will have thee carted through the dirt, 
 
 That mak'st great poet Furor want his shirt. 
 
 Ing. Is not here a trusty dog, that dare bark so boldly 
 at the moon ? 7 1 
 
 Phil. Exclaiming want, and needy care, and cark. 
 
 Would make the mildest spright to bite and barke. 
 
 Phan. Canes tiniidi vehementius latrant. There are 
 certain burrs in the Isle of Dogs, called in our 
 
 93
 
 ACT V. sc. 4. The Return 
 
 English tongue, men of worship ; certain briars, as 
 the Indians call them ; as we say certain lawyers ; 
 certain great lumps of earth, as the Arabians call 
 them ; certain grosers, as we term them, quos ego 
 sed 7notos press tat componere flue t us. 80 
 
 Ing. We three unto the snarling island haste. 
 
 And there our vexed breath in snarling waste. 
 
 Phil. We will be gone unto the downs of Kent, 
 Sure footing we shall find in humble dale : 
 i Our fleecy flock we'll learn to watch and ward, 
 In July's heat, and cold of January : 
 We'll chant our woes upon an oaten reed. 
 Whiles bleating flock upon their supper feed : 
 
 Stud. So shall we shun the company of men. 89 
 
 That grows more hateful as the world grows old, 
 We'll teach the murnmring brooks in tears to flow ; 
 And steepy rock to wail our passed woe. 
 
 Acad. Adieu, you gentle spirits, long adieu : 
 Your wits I love, and your ill fortunes rue : 
 I'll haste me to my Cambridge cell again, 
 My fortunes cannot wax, but they may wane. 
 
 Ing. Adieu, good shepherds, happy may you live, 
 And if hereafter in some secret shade. 
 You shall recount poor scholars' miseries, 100 
 
 Vouchsafe to mention, with tear-swelling eyes, 
 Ingenioso's thwarting destinies ; 
 And thou, still happy Academico, 
 That still mayst rest upon the muses' bed, 
 
 94
 
 from Parnassus act v. sc. 4. 
 
 Enjoying there a quiet slumbering, 
 
 When thou repair's! unto thy Granta's stream, 
 
 Wonder at thine own bliss, pity our case. 
 
 That still doth tread ill-fortune's endless maze. 
 
 Wish them, that are preferment's almoners, 
 
 To cherish gentle wits in their green bud ; 1 10 
 
 For had not Cambridge been to me unkind, 
 
 I had not turn'd to gall a milky mind. 
 
 Phil. I wish thee of good hap a plenteous store. 
 
 Thy wit deserves no less, my love can wish no more, 
 Farewell, farewell, good Academico ; 
 Never may'st thou taste of our forepassed woe. 
 We wish thy fortunes may attain their due : 
 Furor, and you, Phantasma, both adieu. 
 
 Acad. Farewell, farewell, farewell, O long farewell ; 
 
 The rest my tongue conceals, let sorrow tell. 120 
 
 Phan. Et longiim vale, iiiquit lola. 
 
 Fur. Farewell, my masters ; Furor's a masty dog, 
 Nor can with a smooth glozing farewell cog. 
 Nought can great Furor do, but bark and howl. 
 And snarl, and grin, and carl, and touse the world. 
 Like a great swine, by his long, lean eared lugs. 
 Farewell musty, dusty, rusty, fusty London, 
 Thou art not worthy of great Furor's wit. 
 That cheatest vertue of her due desert. 
 And suffer'st great Apollo's son to want. 130 
 
 Ing. Nay, stay awhile, and help me to content : 
 So many gentle wits attention, 
 
 95
 
 ACT V. sc. 4. The Return from Parnassus 
 
 Who ken the laws of every comic stage, 
 
 And wonder that our scene ends discontent. 
 
 Ye airy wits subtle, 
 
 Since that few scholars fortunes are content, 
 
 Wonder not if our scene ends discontent. 
 
 When that your fortunes reach their due content, 
 
 Then shall our scene end in her merriment. 
 
 Phil. Perhaps some happy wit, with seely hand, 140 
 
 Hereafter may record the pastoral. 
 Of the two scholars of Parnassus hill. 
 And then our scene may end, and have content. 
 
 Ing. Meantime if there be any spiteful ghost. 
 That smiles to see poor scholars' misery ; 
 Cold is his charity, his wit too dull. 
 We scorn his censure, he's a jeering gull. 
 But whatsoe'er refined sprites there be, 
 That deeply groan at our calamity, 150 
 
 Whose breath is turned to sighs, whose eyes are 
 
 wet. 
 To see bright arts bent to their latest set : 
 Whence never they again their heads shall rear. 
 To bless our art-disgracing hemisphere. 
 
 Ing. Let them. 
 
 Fur. Let them. 
 
 Phan. Let them. I^All give us a 
 
 Acad. And none but them, j piatidite. 
 
 Phil. And none but them. | 
 
 Stud. And none but them, j 
 
 96
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 Bands (sub.), usually worn now by 
 clergymen, but formerly by all 
 gentlemen. It is remarkable that 
 what was a hundred years back 
 called a band is now called ' a 
 pair of bands,' probably from a 
 supposed resemblance to a pair of 
 breeches ; I. ii, 159. 
 
 Bewray (verb), soil, defile ; 11. v. 
 115 ; also III. ii. 48. 
 
 Blow-point (sub.), a game for 
 children which consisted in blow- 
 ing pins or points against each 
 other. It was probably akin to 
 push-pin ; III. i. 36. Ci. Lingua, 'He 
 played at blow-point with Jupiter.' 
 
 Blur (verb), stain, soil ; I. ii. 71. Cf . 
 Hanilct, III. iv. 41. 
 
 BOTS (sub.), the larvre of the botfly 
 found in the Hesh and intestines 
 of animals ; the botfly is some- 
 what akin to the blow-Hj', and 
 deposits its eggs on cattle. The 
 implication is that the individuals 
 referred to here breed corruption 
 in the press ; I. ii. 212. 
 
 Burr (sub.), one who sticks fast to 
 another so that the latter cannot 
 get rid of him ; il. vi. 53. 
 
 Carbin or Craboux (sub.), a car- 
 bine or short musket ; iv. ii. 231. 
 It was also called a petronel ; I. 
 ii. 41. Cf. Beaumont & Fletcher's 
 Wit ivith Money, \. i. 75. 
 
 Cheap (sub.), Cheapside ; I. i. 28. 
 
 Chest (sub.), coffin ; i. ii. 117 ; also 
 I. ii. 203. 
 
 CHUFF (sub.) or Chough, a kind of 
 sea-bird that is very greedy and 
 gluttonous ; then a miserly churl ; 
 I. ii. 115. Cf. 1 HcnyyIV.,n.n.8<). 
 
 Close-couched (adj.),proper,exact, 
 accurate ; I. ii. 164. 
 
 Cog (verb), to cheat ; V. iv. 123. Cf. 
 Love's Labour Lost, v. ii. 235. 
 
 Commons (sub.), to graze on the 
 commons ; lit., ' out to grass ' ; 
 I. ii. 153- 
 
 Corrector of the Press (sub.), 
 press-reader ; I. ii. 24. 
 
 Courtesies (sub.), an abbreviation 
 for ' courteous spectators.' Prol. 
 32. 
 
 Cut and Longtail (phrase), terms 
 applied to dogs, viz., those whose 
 tails were cut and those which 
 were left untouched. The re- 
 ference means ' Come all and 
 sundry ' ; IV. i. 33. 
 
 CUTCHY (sub.), slang term for 
 'coachee'=coachdriver ; Jii. iv. 
 22. 
 
 Demilance (sub.), small lance, used 
 rather by infantry than cavalry ; 
 hence by inference the satiric pro- 
 ductions of those who were not 
 regular writers ; i. ii. 4c. 
 
 Draughty (adj.), windy, inflated ; 
 also filthy ; i. ii. 31. 
 
 EXEQUY (sub.), funeral rites ; usually 
 found in the plural exequies ; 1. 
 ii. 112. Cf. 1 Henry VI. ,111. ii. 133. 
 
 97 
 
 H
 
 Glossary 
 
 The Return 
 
 Fardel (sub.), burdens, loads ; also i 
 luggage ; V. i. 13. 
 
 Fit (sub.), a division of a song or 
 dance ; III. ii. 72. Dr. Percy, in 
 Kcliques of Ancient Poetry, quotes 
 Putteuham's remarks about the 
 minstrels and their 'romances,' 
 wliich they sang in divisions or 
 ' fits." Cf . "the Ancient Ballad of 
 Chevy Chase,which is divided into 
 ' Fytte the Firste ' ' Fytte the 
 Seconde,' &c. 
 
 Flapmouthed (adj.), having loose- 
 hanging lips ; IV. ii. 11. 
 
 F"oiN (verb), to thrust or push in 
 fencing ; I. ii. 162. Cf. MncJi Ado 
 about Nothing, v. i. 84. 
 
 FORNE (prep,), before. Prol. 69. 
 
 FORSPEAK, also FORESPEAK (verb), 
 to forbid ; i. iv. 20. Cf. Atitony 
 and Cleopatra, III. vii. 3. Also to 
 bewitch or destroy by speaking ; 
 Drayton, Heroical Epistles. 
 
 Gag-tooth (sub.), a projecting 
 tooth ; I, ii. 202. Cf. Xash, Pierce 
 Penilcssc, p. 47, Grossart'scd. vol. ii. 
 
 Gird (verb), to jeer at, or wound by 
 sarcasm ; i. ii. 165. 
 
 Glanders (sub.), a malignant, con- 
 tagious, and fatal disease of the 
 horse or ass, causing it to waste 
 awaj'. The implication is that 
 the persons implied in the passage 
 noted — I. ii. 212 — caused the death 
 of the press by the atrophy of 
 true genius. 
 
 Grosers (sub.), an abbreviation of 
 ' engrossers,' in double allusion 
 to the engrossing of legal docu- 
 ments and the engrossing of 
 
 . gain ; v. iv. 79. 
 
 Hedge-stakes (sub.), the barriers 
 keeping out rash intiuders ; I. ii. 
 211. 
 
 HOTCOCKLES (sub.), a game among 
 children, akin to Blindman's Buff. 
 See Note in loc. Prol. 34. 
 
 Huckster (sub.), bargainer, chaf- 
 ferer, from the verb to liuck, to 
 bargain ; I. ii. 51. 
 
 Humours (sub.),eccentricities, fads. 
 Prol. 35. Cf. Love's Labour Lost, 
 III. i. 23 ; as also Ben Jonson's 
 two plays, Every Man in His 
 Humour and Every Man out of 
 His Humour. 
 
 Imps (sub.), comrades ; lii. iv. 88. 
 Early editions read ' mips.' 
 
 Jack (sub.), a term of contempt. 
 
 Prol. 10. Cf. Dekker, Bclman of 
 
 London, ' Jack o' the Clocks ' ; 
 
 also Merry Wives of Windsor, I. iv. 
 
 123. 
 Jerking (partic. adj.), scourging ; 
 
 I. i. 3 ; also see i. ii. 142, where 
 
 the word means ' to flow on, to 
 
 proceed.' 
 Joadna (sub.), supposed to be a 
 
 misprint for 'Padua' ; III. iii. 53. 
 
 Kestrel (sub.), a hawk of an un- 
 trainable breed ; hence used to 
 signify anything that is base or 
 worthless ; I. iC^y. Cf. Spenser, 
 Faerie Qnecne, li. iii. 4. 
 
 Knit (verb), darn up the holes left 
 by the excision of erroneous pas- 
 sages ; I. ii. 29. 
 
 Light-skirts (sub.), a term applied 
 
 to a woman of easy virtue ; i. ii. 
 
 195. 
 Lin (verb), to cease ; iv. iii. 128. 
 
 Cf. Spenser, Faerie Qnecne, I. v 
 
 35— 
 
 98
 
 from Parnassus 
 
 ' And Sisyphus an huge round 
 
 stone did reel 
 Against an hill, ne might from 
 
 labour lin ; ' 
 
 also Browne, Britannia s Pas- 
 torals, II. i. 8. 
 
 LlXK (sub.), a torch of tow and 
 pitch. Prol. 44. Cf. also Taming 
 of the Shrew, iv. i. 137. 
 
 LoADAM or LODAM (sub.), an 
 ancient game of cards not unlike 
 euchre. Prol. 14. 
 
 Magnifico (sub.), Venetian grandee 
 
 and Senator ; ill. iv. 51. 
 Margent (sub.), margin ; III. iii. 48. 
 Marginal (sub.) = critical notes ; 
 
 I. ii. 132. 
 
 ISI.4STY (sub.), a mastiff ; v. iv. 122. 
 
 Me.^xe (sub.), a hare's form or 
 shape, as seen in its shadow ; 11. 
 V. 30. 
 
 Mews (sub.), a retired, enclosed 
 place ; II. i. 73. Originally it 
 meant a place where falcons 
 were kept while moulting ; then 
 any enclosed place. Cf. Spenser, 
 Faerie Quecne, i. v. 20. 
 
 Mossy (adj.), rude, uncultivated ; 
 
 II. i. 66. 
 
 Noddy (sub.), a game of cards 
 somewhat akin to cribbage (see 
 Notes in loc). Prol. 14. 
 
 Obscure (verb), overlook. Prol. 
 22. 
 
 Pantofle (sub.), a slipper ; iv. i. 
 
 39- 
 Passage (sub.), the name of a game 
 
 Slayed with dice. Prol. 12. (See 
 [ote in loc.) 
 Petronrl (sub.), a carbine or light 
 gun carried by a horseman ; I. ii. 
 40. Cf. Hudibras, l. ii. 788. 
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 PiGHT (verb), pitched, situated ; ill. 
 V. 41 ; the old preterite tense of 
 the verb to pitch. Cf . Troilnsand 
 Cressida, v. xi. 24. 
 
 Ploydenist (sub.), a lawyer, or a 
 student of Edmond Plowden's 
 volume, Conimcntaires on Reports, 
 IV. ii. 174. 
 
 PoiXT-TRUSSER (sub.), a valet ; liter- 
 ally one who helps another to 
 'truss his points' ; III. iii. 26. 
 
 POIMTS (sub.), the laces for fasten- 
 ing breeches ; therefore ' to truss 
 one's points' was to tasten one's 
 breeches. Points = braces ; III. i. 
 32. 
 
 Post and Pair (sub.), a game of 
 cards somewhat akin to bluff. 
 Prol. 13. (See Notes in loc.) 
 
 Pottle (sub.), the measure of two 
 quarts ; I. iii. 10. Cf. Othello, ll. 
 iii. 54, ' potations pottle-deep.' 
 
 Precious Coals (expletive), an 
 oath used by Sir Raderic, being 
 possibly a well-known expression 
 of a well-known individual ; iv. 
 i- 57- 
 
 Press (verb), afflict, molest, plague 
 I. ii. 25. 
 
 Primero (sub.), a game of cards. 
 (See Notes in loc.) Prol. 12. Cf. 
 Henry VIII., v. i. 7. 
 
 Princo.x (sub.), a coxcomb ; iii. ii. 
 8. Cf. 'D:\vi\e.\' s, Hymen sTrinniph, 
 ' Ah, Sirrah, have I found you ? 
 Are you here, you princox boy ? ' 
 
 Qu or Que (sub.), a farthing ; iv. 
 
 iii- 53- 
 Que (sub.), the prompter's catch 
 
 word ; IV. iii. 52. 
 
 Ram-Alley (noun), a notorious 
 passage leading from Fleet Street 
 to the Temple ; I. ii. 163. Cf. 
 Massin.ger's Nciv Way to Pay Old 
 Debts, II. ii. 167. 
 
 99
 
 GLOSSARY 
 
 RoiSTER-DoiSTER, to act in a 
 ruffianly and turbulent manner ; 
 I. ii. i6i. Cf. Udall's farcical 
 comedy, Ralph Roister-Doister. 
 Saint (sub.), the corrupt pronun- 
 ciation of the game 'cent,' which 
 was like our modern picquet. 
 Prol. 13. (Cf. Note in loc.) See 
 the Dwnb Knight (Dodsley's Old 
 Plays), Act iv. Sc. i. 
 Scrub (verb), to rub a stubbly 
 
 beard ; III. ii. 73- 
 Shade (verb), shelter. Prol. 88. Cf. 
 
 Henry VIIL, v. i. 162. 
 Size (verb), to take College Com- 
 mons. Therefore to ' size que,' to 
 take College Commons in minute 
 quantities, like the farthing allow- 
 ances of food and drink given to 
 the sizars at Cambridge ; iv. iii. 54. 
 Sleight (sub.), art ; iv. ii. 242. 
 Sloughing (partic. adj.), stoopmg 
 or kneeling for the purposes of the 
 game of hotcockles. Prol. 34. 
 Slubbered (partic. adj.), slovenly, 
 careless. Prol. 22. Cf. Othello, l. 
 iii. 227. 
 SOOPING (verb), sweeping, 
 SOPHISTER (sub.), a captious and 
 fallacious reason. Prol. 45. Cf. 
 2 Henry VI., v. i. 191. 
 Souring (verb), becoming dead and 
 
 Hat, without sparkle ; I. ii. 46. 
 STAMEL (adj.), a kind of coarse, red 
 cloth ; III. ii. 13. A stamel weaver 
 would therefore mean a weaver 
 of the coarse cloth in question. 
 Randolph's Hey for Honesty. ' I 
 translated my Stamell petticoat 
 into the masculine gender.' 
 Steeple-FAIR (sub.), a hiring fair ; 
 
 IV. ii. 229. . 
 
 Stigmatic (adj.), disgraceful, igno- 
 minious ; I. iv. 68. Cf. Webster s 
 White Dez'il, 'let the stigmatic 
 wrinkles in thy face.' 
 
 The Return from Parnassus 
 
 Stockado (sub.), more properly 
 stoccata, a thrust in fencing. 
 I. ii. 201. Cf. Merry Wives of 
 Windsor, Ii. i. 217 ; also Ben 
 Jonson, Every Man in His 
 'Humour, I. iv. 189. 
 
 Subsizar = a poor scholar who 
 performed the most menial offices 
 in return for his board and educa- 
 tion ; IV. ii. 20. 
 
 Sumner (sub.), a summoner or 
 apparitor ; IV. ii. 155. 
 
 Swad (sub.), course bumpkins, 
 boors ; I. ii. 18. Ct. Ben Jonson's 
 Tale of a Tub, 11. ii. ' There was 
 one busy fellow was their leader, 
 a blunt squat sxn'ad.' 
 
 Teen (sub.), grief, misfortune ; i. 
 
 iv. 36. Cf. Richard HI., iv. i. 95 ; 
 
 also Spenser, Faerie Qnccne, I. xii. 
 
 18. 
 Thacked (adj ), thatched ; ill. 11. 32. 
 Thick-thwack (adj.), fast coming ; 
 
 III. iv. 43. Cf. Hall's Satires, i. 6. 
 Tread (verb), follow ; I. i. 8. 
 Trundlebed or Trucklebed 
 
 (sub.), a bed which was pushed 
 
 in under a larger one, being used 
 
 to accommodate servants or 
 
 scholars ; II. vi. 43. 
 
 Untapezing (sub.), uncovering, 
 bringing out of concealment ; li. 
 V. 69 ; a hunting term for driving 
 the game out of cover. Cf. Mas- 
 singer, Very Woman, III. v. 62, 
 • Non I'll untapeze." 
 
 Vizard (sub.), mask (also Visor and 
 
 Vizor). Prol. 44. Cf. Merry Wives 
 
 of Windsor, iv. iv. 70. 
 VOYDER (sub.), a tray on which the 
 
 remains of a feast are removed. 
 
 Prol. 20. 
 Working (verb), fermenting ; i- "• 
 
 45- 
 
 100
 
 NOTES 
 
 Prologue 
 
 I. Non plus. This is intended to signify that the boy stops short 
 in his speech having broken down in Iiis part, the reason being 
 given below that he had been sitting up playing cards, and also that 
 he had not been able to get his part in time. Boys were as re- 
 gularly apprenticed to players as to masters in other professions. 
 Lads of ten entered into articled engagements. Their masters, 
 usually actors, sometimes managers, taught them their trade and 
 pocketed their earnings. Hart, who plaj^ed in Chapman's Bnssy 
 d'Ambois, was Robinson's apprentice ; while Beeston, a famous 
 player at the Cockpit, had for his apprentices, Burt, Mohun, and 
 Shatterel, who went on playing after the Restoration, Henslowe 
 records the purchase of a boy from William Augustine for £8. 
 Augustine must have trained the boy, holding under indentures the 
 right to use him for his own profit. Cf. Symonds on this subject, 
 SJiakspere's Predecessors (p. 242, ff.) ; also Historia Histrionica, in 
 Hazlett's Dodsley, vol. xv. pp. 404-416. 
 
 3. Whipt. The rights of masters over apprentices in those days 
 permitted the use of correction, and the reference to the whipping 
 of apprentices occurs more than once in Elizabethan drama (cf 
 Dekker's Shoemaker's Holiday). 
 
 10. Jack. A term of contempt for silly paltry fellows (cf. 
 I Henry IV. III. iii. 99), the price is a jack, a sneakcup. Cf. Jack o' the 
 Clocks, a name for thieves, as well as for the figures which struck 
 the hours in Old St. Paul's, Cf. Dekker's Belman of London 
 (Temple Classics Edition), p, 34, 1. i ; also p. 226. 
 
 lOI
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 12. Ptinicro ; also cMed prime :im\ prinnn'istii. A game at cards, 
 alleged by some writers to be the oldest known in England. It is 
 thus described by Barrington : ' Each pla3'er had four cards dealt to 
 him, one by one, the seven was the highest card in point of number 
 that he could avail himself of, which counted for twent3'-one ; the 
 six counted for eighteen, the five for fifteen, and the ace for the 
 same ; but the two, the three and the four, for their respective 
 points onl}'. The knave of diamonds was commonly fixed upon 
 for the quinola, which the player might make what card or suit he 
 thought proper ; if the cards were of different suits the highest 
 number was the primero (or prime), but if they w^ere all of one 
 colour he that held them w-on the flush.' Primero seems to have 
 resembled the game called ranibigii, if the two were not absolutely 
 identical. It was reckoned a gambling game, as we learn from 
 Greene's Tii Qiioqtic, ' Primero, why I thought thou hadst not been 
 so much a gamester as to play at it.' The mode of playing it is 
 referred to in Gammer Gnrtou's Needle, though the game itself is not 
 named. 
 
 12. Passage. The name of a species of game played with dice. 
 The Coiuplcat Gamester (1680), says, ' Passage is a game at dice to be 
 played at but by two, and is performed with three dice. The caster 
 throws repeatedly until he has thrown doublets under ten, and 
 then he is out and loseth, or doublets over ten, and then he passeth 
 and wins. The game is referred to in the Hog Jiath lost his Pearl, 
 ' Passage carried away the most part of it, a plague of fortune.' 
 
 13. Post and pair. Also called pur and pair-royal, a game of 
 cards, wherein much depended on boldness in betting on the strength 
 of your own hand. It corresponds somewhat to the modern game 
 of hlnff. A pair-royal of aces w^as the best hand, and next any 
 other three cards according to order, kings, queens, knaves, descend- 
 ing. If there were no threes the highest pairs won. 
 
 13. Saint. This was a corrupt pronunciation of the game called 
 cent which had some resemblance to our modern picquet. Cf. 
 
 102
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 Heywood's A Woman killed icith Kindness, ' Husband, shall we 
 play at saint ; ' also in Lewis Machin's and Gervase Markham's 
 Dumb Knight \VQ read, ' It is not saintby cent taken from hundreds ; ' 
 while in Beaumont and Fletcher's Fonr Plays in One the reference 
 occurs, ' The duke and his fair lady the beauteous Helena are now 
 at cent.' 
 
 14. Loadani. Or more correctly loddani or lodani, an ancient game 
 of cards, which was played by three persons, and seems to have 
 had a curious resemblance to the American and Australian diggers 
 game of 'cutthroat euchre.' Rochester in his Poems (1710), says-= 
 
 'A kind of losing loddam in their game 
 Where the worst writer has the greatest fame ; ' 
 
 while as late as 1735 we find in Poor Robin the reference— 
 
 * Some at cards and dice do play 
 Their money and their time away — 
 At loadam, cribbage, and all-fours.' 
 
 17. Noddy. Also a game of cards, having some resemblance to 
 cribbage, also to qninze and vingt'un. (Cf. Two Gentlemen of Verona, 
 I. i. 117). 'S. She did nod, and I said I. P. And that set together is 
 noddy ; ' also in Damon and Pithias we read — 
 
 'Ere you came hither, poore I was somebody 
 The king delighted in me, now I am noddy ; ' 
 
 while Puttenham in his Art of Poetry (bk. i. chap. 20), refers to 
 ' Thersites, the glorious noddie.' It certainly was a game in which 
 counting was a material element, because in Sir T. Overbury's 
 Characters we read, ' he reckons so many postures of the pike and 
 musket as if he were counting at noddy.' 
 
 The fact will be noted that the first mention of the word noddy 
 
 103
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 refers to the j^ame, the second to the nUied meaning of the term as 
 that of a fooHsh or pitiful fellow. 
 
 20. Voyder, or Voicler=a. basket or tray on which were carried 
 away the remains of a meal. Dekker refers to this in the Giih 
 Hornbook, * Piers Plowman laid the cloth, and Simplicity brought in 
 the voider' ; also in Beaumont and Fletcher's Woman Hater {Act I. 
 scene iii.), we note the allusion, ' For other's glorious shields, give 
 me a voider.' 
 
 27. Brooms and old shoes. Weber would read, ' brooms and old 
 showes,' but the reading adopted is, I think, preferable. 
 
 29. Copies to the chandler . . . in. The surplus sheets of volumes 
 which were out of date were then as now disposed of as waste- 
 paper, often to trunkmakers, hence the gibe cast by Dekker at Jonson, 
 that his works had greater circulation through the medium of the 
 trunkmakers, then through the booksellers. 
 
 34. Sloughing hot-cockles=z game among children, derived from 
 the French haiites coqnilles. It consists in one of the number kneel- 
 ing with his e3'es bandaged, and guessing which of his companions 
 had tapped him. It appears to have been derived from classic 
 times as the ^vrpivca (Chytrinda) of the Greeks as described by 
 ancient writers is almost identical. (Cf. Arbuthnot, Pollux, lib. ix. 
 cap. 7.) 
 
 Blindman buff is just the game familiar to us in the present day 
 
 35. Humors. Manners, eccentricities or idiosyncrasies, cf. Ben 
 Jonson's two plays, Every Man in His Humour and Every Man out 
 of His Humour. Jonson professedly wrote these plays as he says — 
 
 ' To give these ignorant well-spoken days 
 Some taste of their abuse of tliis word humour.' 
 
 Shakespeare also, in the character of Nym, satirised it, and in the 
 Merry Wives of Windsor makes the page exclaim, ' The humour of it ! 
 here's a fellow frights humour out of its wits ' ; Beaumont and 
 
 J 04
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 Fletclier also ridiculed the craze in the Humorous Lieutenant, which 
 implies the eccentric or self-willed, not the jocular lieutenant. 
 
 42. Pilgriiitage to Parnassus, and the Return from Parnassus, Part I. 
 See Introduction, p. xiii. 
 
 46. Butler's Box: The butler held the counters at Christmas card 
 parties, distributing them to the players, who paid a fee to the box. 
 Wybarne's Neio Age of Old Names (1609) : ' But stay, my friend, let 
 it be first manifest that my father left land, and then we will rather 
 agree at home than suffer the " Butler's Box " to win all.' Also 
 in Ram Alley, Act 2, scene i. : ' Law is like a butler's box.' 
 
 57. Sir John Mandn'ille (cir. 1322). The author of the volume of 
 travels which ranks as one of the earliest specimens of readable 
 English prose. Whether such an individual ever existed, however, 
 is at least open to question, 
 
 57. Bevis of Southampton. One of the ancient metrical romances, 
 first edited for the Abbotsford Club by Turnbull, in 1838, and later 
 by Kolbing, for the E.E.T.S. It is filled with marvellous adven- 
 tures and fighting with giants, enchanters, &c. 
 
 69. Far/je=beforne or before. 
 
 70. Lisping was esteemed a fashionable defect in Elizabethan 
 times, somewhat akin to the latter-day slurring of the letter r in 
 such sentences as, ' Now Bawabbas was a wobber.' 
 
 71. Some dire . . . almost done. Some critics profess to see in 
 this an attack on Shakespeare's Cymbeline, on the hypothesis that 
 he was mixed up in the War of the Players. 
 
 Act I. SCEXE I. 
 
 I. i. I. Difficile . . . tcneat de. From Juvenal, Sat. 1. 1. 30. 
 I. i. 2. Ferrcits. Tiic quarto reads /«rt«s, which makes no sense 
 in the line. 
 
 I. i. 3. Jerking here means heavy, in the sense of scourging. 
 I. i. 6. Lancing. Lanching in the quarto.
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 I. i. 17. Aniaits. A mighty mythological giant, whose strength 
 in wrestling was so great that he vowed he would erect a temple 
 with the skulls of his vanquished foes. As he was the son of 
 Neptune and Terra (the Earth), he received new strength every 
 time he touched his mother. Hercules challenged him, and per- 
 ceiving whence he drew his renewal of strength, caught him up in 
 his arms and squeezed him to death. (Cf. Lucan, Pharsalia, bk. iv. 
 598, also Juvenal, Sat. iii. 1. 88, 
 
 I. i. 23. As. The quarto reads is, which I have changed into as, 
 in order to make some sense out of a difficult passage. 
 
 I. i. 26. Glaring Light. The quarto reads glaring, which Arber 
 retains, also Weber. 
 
 I. i. S/an«^ C//^rt/> = Cheapside, one of the oldest of the London 
 thoroughfares. The original name was not ' Cheapside,' but ' West 
 Cheap.' It is thus described by Paul Hentzner, who visited London 
 in Shakespeare's time : ' The streets in the city are very handsome 
 and clean ; but that which is named from the goldsmiths, who 
 inhabit it, surpasses all the rest ; there is in it a gilt tower with a 
 fountain that plays. Near it, on the farther side, is a handsome 
 house, built by a goldsmith, and presented by him to the city.' In 
 Bread Street, Cheapside, the famous Mermaid tavern was situated, 
 one of the haunts of Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, and all the more 
 notable players and playwrights. 
 
 I. i. 30. Pavement. In Elizabethan days the term pavement was 
 attached to the middle of the road, which was usually studded with 
 rough cobble stones. 
 
 Act I. Scene II. 
 
 I. ii, I, Vinegar. When bloodshed had to be represented on the 
 
 Elizabethan stage, vinegar was used. Cf. Preston's Cambyses, 
 iv. 217. 
 
 I. ii. 6. Utensils. Quarto reads ' utensilies.' 
 
 I. ii. 18. Swads. Bumpkins, county fellows, la The Three Ladies 
 
 106
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 of London {Act I. i. C7), Fraud styles Simplicity, 'Thou whoreson 
 rascal swad ; ' while in the Three Lords and Three Ladies of London 
 (1. 94), Will calls Wealth a ' curmudgeonly swad.' 
 
 I. ii. 24. Corrector of the Press. Some critics regard this as re- 
 ferring not merely to the press-reader, but to the press-censor. 
 Cf. Fleay's English Drama, vol. ii. p. 350. 
 
 I. ii. 34. Friends, no Friends. An imitation of Kyd's soliloquy 
 of Jeronimo in the Spanish Tragedy (Act III. ii. l). 
 
 ' O eyes, no eyes, but fountains fraught with tears, 
 O life, no life but lively form of death, 
 O world, no world, but mass of public wrongs.' 
 
 I. ii. 36. May Morrice Dance. May Day in England was the occa- 
 sion for all kinds of sports and games, in which the morrice dance, 
 and dancing round the maypole were prominent features, as we 
 learn from Shakespeare's All's Well that Ends Well, where the clown 
 says to the countess that her answer will serve for all questions ' as 
 fit as ten groats for the hand of an attorney . . as a pancake for 
 Shrove Tuesday, or a morris for May Day.' 
 
 I. ii. 39. Maypole on a country greene. The residents of an 
 English village would have soon have lacked their church as their 
 maypole, and some of these are still extant in remote country 
 districts. 
 
 I. ii. 40. Petroncl. A carbine, a light gun usually carried by a 
 horseman. In Beaumont and Fletcher's Love's Cure (Act I. i.), we 
 read, ' He . . . discharged his petronell with such sure aim, that of 
 the adverse party, from his horse, one tumbled dead ; ' also in 
 Hudibras I. ii. 788— 
 
 ' But he with petronel upheaved 
 Instead of shield the blow received.' 
 
 I. ii. 40. Denii-lance=a. light horseman armed with a lance, then 
 the lance itself. 
 
 107
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 I. ii. 58. Tyburn. The place of execution. It was anciently the 
 name of the parish of Marylebone, and took its name from a brook 
 which ran down the ground now occupied by the principal thorough- 
 fare, and on the banks of which stood a chapel, St. Mary ' le Bourne.' 
 The place of execution for the City of London and the County of 
 Middlesex, was at first by the burnside, but early in the fifteenth 
 century the gibbet was removed further West, In 1512 it occupied 
 the site of the modern Marble Arch, but eventually was located at 
 the foot of Edgware Road. The last execution at Tyburn took 
 place in 1783. 
 
 I. ii. 61. Belvidere. The full title of the book was Belvidere or 
 the Garden of the Muses, 8vo, 1600. It was simply a volume of 
 poetical selections, being completed by John Bodenham. 
 
 I. ii. 61, Paul's Churchyard. Comprised in Elizabethan days, a 
 very extensive area. Mr. Fairman Ordish in Shakespeare's London 
 says, ' St. Paul's Churchyard was surrounded by a series of posts, sup- 
 porting continuous chains. The eastern entrances into the Church- 
 yard from Cheapside and from Candlewick Street were protected 
 by gates. ... At the west end of the Cathedral, looking towards 
 Ludgate, there were three stately gates or entries curiously wrought 
 of stone, a large gate in the middle, and smaller gates on either 
 side. Whether these gateways admitted immediately into the 
 Cathedral is not clear from Stow's description, but they were 
 probably gateways in the wall which surrounded the Churchyard, 
 and .within the area were situated the shops of the stationers, 
 printers, and booksellers. From the popular dislike to Roman 
 Catholicism, the Church and its environs were always styled 
 ' Pauls ' ' never ' St. Pauls,' until the reign of Charles I. 
 
 1. ii. 69. Cf. Tibullus, Bk. I. iv. 59. 
 
 1. ii. 71. Who blurs . . . praise are sung. There is a strong 
 resemblance .between these lines and Bishop Hall's lines in his 
 Virgidemiarum (Bk. I. Sat. ll.). 
 
 1. ii. 90. The names of the poets whose names are mentioned 
 
 io8
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 for criticism are all well-known writers. Edmund Spenser (1552- 
 1599), the immortal author of the Fairy Ouccn and Shepherd's Calendar. 
 Henry Constable (1562-1613) was author of a Sonnet-sequence, 
 Diana, and also contributed to England's Helicon. Thomas 
 Lodge (i55S[?]-i62S), author of a variety of works, Glaucus and 
 Scilla, A Fig for Monius, two plays, viz., Wounds of Civil War, and 
 A Looking Glass for England ; also translated Josephus, Seneca, and 
 part of Du Bartas, and wrote the euphuistic romance Rosalynde, 
 which suggested to Shakespeare, As You Like It. Samuel Daniel 
 (1562-1619), author of the long poem History of the Civil Wars ; 
 The Defence of Rhyme ; a tragedy, Cleopatra, and two pastoral 
 irz.g\-com.td\iis,ih.e Queen's Arcadia and Hymen's Triumph. Thomas 
 Watson (1557-1592), author of Hecatompathia or The Passionate 
 Centurie of Love, a series of sonnets, and The Tears of Fancic. 
 Michael Drayton (i 563-1631), author of the Polyolbion, a descrip- 
 tion of England, and Nymphidia. Sir John Davis (1569-1626), 
 author of Noscc Teipsuni. John Marston (1575 [ ?] -1634), poet, satirist, 
 and dramatist, author of Pygmalion's Image, the Scourge of Villainy, 
 Antonio and Mellida, and the Malcontent. Kit Marlowe (1564-1593), 
 the mighty author of Dr. Fausins, Edward II. and the Jew of Malta. 
 
 I. ii. 99. Po. On the banks of the Po ; an example of Synec- 
 doche, inasmuch as Italian poets as a whole are implied. 
 
 I. ii. io6ff. Nay hearers . . . Eliza's name. Cf. Hall, Virgi- 
 dcmiarum (Bk. I. Sat. IV. 11. ig-28). 
 
 I. ii. 125. Sweet honey-dropping Daniel . . . Italian. Daniel did 
 a large amount of translation from the Italian poets, and was 
 accustomed to imitate them and to incorporate portions of their 
 work in his poems without acknowledgment. 
 
 I. ii. 127. Honey-dropping and sugared sonneting. This and cog- 
 nate phrases were in popular use. Cf. Meres's criticism of Shake- 
 speare : 'The sweet witty soul of Ovid lives in mellifluous and 
 hnney-tongued Shakespeare. Witness his Venus and Adonis, his 
 Lucrccc, his sugared sonnets among his private friend?^.' 
 
 109
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 I. ii. 132. Subject io a critic's marginal =l^ying themselves open 
 to criticism. 
 
 I. ii. In every paper boat. Lodge was a most voluminous writer 
 both in conjunction with others and by himself. 
 
 I. ii. 135. Euphucs Legacy. The name of one of Lodge's produc- 
 tions. 
 
 I. ii. 140. He cannot swa!li>cr . . . hoUiouse. This praise of 
 Drayton's morality is not undeserved. His verse is remarkably 
 pure for the period. 
 
 I. ii. 144. TJiat jerk in hidden charms. His Nosce Teipsum is full 
 of hard metaphysical conceits. 
 
 I. ii. 147. Lock and Hudson. Satirists of the time, aptly styled by 
 Carew Hazlett in his notes upon this play, in his edition of Dodsley, 
 as the Baevius and the Maevius of that age. 
 
 I. ii. 152. Clap a lock . . . c<j;«/;?j«s=treat them like horses, and 
 turn them out to graze. 
 
 I. ii. 155. Monsieur Kinsayder. Don Kinsayder was the pen- 
 name adopted by Marston in the Scourge of Villainy ; also in What 
 You Will, one of liis acknowledged plays, he again employs the 
 title. 
 
 I, ii. 160. Frenchman's Helicon. Marston drew his inspiration, 
 at first at least, from France rather than Italy. 
 
 I. ii. i6r. Then roister-doister . . . /t.'r/»5 = bluster in his foreign 
 terminology. Marston was very fond of using uncommon words, 
 and of coining terms to suit himself. In every attack made by 
 Jonson upon Marston (says Professor Penniman, of Pennsylvania), 
 we find the hitter's vocabulary made an object of ridicule, the most 
 direct and severe attack being in Poetaster {Act v. Scene I.) where 
 Crispinus is made to disgorge words used by Marston. This fact 
 tends to establish yet more firmly the conclusion that Marston's 
 peculiar vocabulary was his distinguishing characteristic. 
 
 I. ii. 163. Ram Alley meditations. Ram Alley was one of the 
 avenues into the Temple from Fleet Street, and has been only 
 
 IIO
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 recently modernised. It formerly, among other places (says Hazlett) 
 claimed to be exempt from the process of the Courts of Law, a 
 privilege taken from it by a statute 9 and 10 William III. As the 
 locality was the haunt of the lowest characters, the phrase ' Ram 
 Alley meditations' means foul indecent language. 
 
 I. ii. 164. Modest close-cotichcd icnns=:i diiccnt a,ppropna.te style. 
 
 I. ii. 175. Buskined //t«5e = tragedy. 
 
 I. ii. 176. Marlowe spent a wild and dissolute life which was 
 terminated by a disgraceful death. Detecting his servant using some 
 familiarity with his mistress, Marlowe rushed at him, dagger in 
 hand, to stab him, but the man catching hold of his master's wrist 
 to stay the stroke, the weapon was driven into Marlowe's head, 
 from which wound he died in a short time. 
 
 I. ii. 182. Bricklayer. Ben Jonson's father was a bricklayer, and 
 the poet himself in youth is said to have worked at the trade. 
 
 I, ii. "185. So slow an inventor . . . laying of a brick. Ben Jonson 
 was proverbially slow in composition. He himself stated in the 
 ' Early Prologue ' to the Poetaster, that he wrote the play in lifteen 
 weeks, a statement to which Dekker evidently refers when in 
 Satironiastix he makes Tucca say, ' Will he be fifteen weeks about 
 this Cockatrice's Egg too ? ' also in another place of the play the 
 same character after styling Horace (Jonson) a 'Nasty tortoise,' 
 adds, ' You and your itchy poetry break out like Christmas, but once 
 a year.' 
 
 I. ii. 190. Williant Shakespeare, who loves Adonis's love . . . lan- 
 guishmeut. The fact is noteworthy that it was as a poet and not as 
 a dramatist, that Shakespeare was believed to have won his title to 
 immortality (cf. Meres's Palladis Tamia). 
 
 I. ii. 194. Churchyard, Thomas (1520-1604). A poet of the early 
 Elizabethan period, whose fecundity was prodigious. He continued 
 writing up to extreme old age, when his style had become quite 
 out of date, a fact referred to by Spenser, who alludes to him 
 under the designation of * Old Palaemon — that sang so long until 
 
 m
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 quite hoarse he grew.' His best poem is The Legend of Shore's Wife, 
 mentioned in the next line. 
 
 I. ii. 195. yaiie Shore, the mistress of Edward IV. She was married 
 while very 5-oung to William Shore, said to have been a goldsmith, 
 and greatly her senior. When the King began his liaison with her, 
 Shore left her. Her position was one of great influence, but she 
 never abused it, and was greatly beloved. On Edward's death his 
 despicable brother Richard III. accused her of bewitching him, 
 and when he could not prove it, egged the Bishop of London on to 
 accuse her of immorality, and to sentence her to do penance clad 
 in a white sheet and bearing a candle in her hand. She survived 
 this indignity more than 40 years, and died in old age in London. 
 The story that she expired of hunger in a ditch, thence called 
 ' Shoreditch,' is quite mythical, as Shoreditch was in existence many 
 years before her birth. 
 
 I. ii. 199. Thomas Nash (1567-1601). The greatest of the Eliza- 
 bethan satirists, who became noted for his onslaught on the 
 Puritans and the Marprelate Pamphleteers, particulai'ly Gabriel 
 Harvey ; also for his Pierce Pennilcsse's Supplication to the 
 Devil. 
 
 I. ii. 211. Hedgestakcs of the press. Men whose minds maintained 
 tiie dead level of mediocrity, and never showed imaginative life by 
 blossoming into works of genius. 
 
 I. ii. 212. Bots ami glanders. Diseases very common among 
 horses. The reference here is to the constant appearance of these 
 men in print, until readers become nauseated and disgusted with 
 them. 
 
 I. ii. 213. Terms to serve the turn. A style without either elegance 
 or beauty, consisting merely of words thrown together to express 
 the author's meaning. 
 
 I. ii. 220. Banter John Dantcr, a well-known Elizabethan 
 printer, who issued Nash's books, also rome of Nicolas Breton's. 
 
 112
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 Act I. ScEXE III. 
 
 I. iii. 4. Exhortations and Catechisms. Sermons and doctrinal 
 statements were much in vogue during the closing j-ears of the 
 sixteenth and the early years of the seventeenth century. 
 
 I. iii. 16. Keeping a good ivit in waters. The words 'wit' and 
 * humour ' were used with great laxity of signification in Elizabethan 
 times ; * a wit ' did not mean the same as in the days of Queen 
 Anne, when it implied an individual who professedly laid himself 
 out to be smart, both in speech and behaviour. In Elizabethan 
 times, the term ' a wit,' was usually applied to writers of merit and 
 discernment, also leaders of taste and culture. Gradually the word 
 narrowed its signification, until in Addison's day the wits were 
 simply the men about town and sayers of smart things. 
 
 Act I. Scene IV 
 
 I. iv. 10. 7ja^s= accidents. 
 
 I. iv. 21. A cardinal cap . . . clerks. The practice was by no 
 means unknown in the Roman Catholic Church of sealing the lips 
 of a man who was proving troublesome, by raising him to some 
 wealthy benefice, after which his difficulties in most instances dis- 
 appeared. Cf. Ariosto, Sat. ii. 1. 97, for a passage almost analogous 
 to this. 
 
 I. iv. 38. We are all equal in our latest grave. Compare with this 
 Southern's well-known lines — 
 
 ' The reconciling grave 
 Swallows distinction first that made us foes : 
 There all lie down in peace together.' 
 
 I. iv. 44. Man's 'whole life is bnt a breathing space. Cf. Shake- 
 speare, Macbeth v. v. 24, ' Life's but a walking shadow.' 
 
 I. iv. 58. Lime-twig purloining villainies. For an insight into 
 
 113 I
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 these, read Greene's pamphlets on Coiiey-cak-Jiiiig, also Dekker's 
 Belman of London. 
 
 I. iv. 59. So we may r»&oa/ = manage to get a living. 
 
 I. iv. 61. Shoe Lane. One of the oldest thoroughfares in London, 
 
 where, in James I.'s days, one of the four Cockpits within the 
 
 liberties ' was situated. Shoe Lane was frequently alluded to in 
 
 early dramatic literature for its squalor and dirt, also for the 
 
 notorious characters frequenting it. See Stow's Survey of London. 
 
 I. iv. 63. London may shortly throw an old shoe after us. The 
 meaning of this passage is somewhat involved. To throw an old 
 shoe after a person was considered equivalent to wishing him good 
 luck. In Beaumont and Fletcher's Honest Man's Fortune, Malli- 
 corn says, 'Captain, j'our shoes are old, pray put 'em off and let 
 one fling 'em after us.' 
 
 I. iv. 66. Foreign Physicians were in great request in England 
 during the reigns of Elizabeth and James, until the reported dis- 
 covery of an attempt on the part of the Spanish Ambassador's 
 physician to poison his master raised a prejudice against them. 
 
 I. iv. 68. Stigmatic masters of art that abused us, &c. An allusion 
 to the jealousy existing between the so-called 'University pens' 
 and the ' Player pens ; ' the former being represented by Lylj*, 
 Greene, Nash, Lodge, &c., which the ' Player pens ' comprised 
 such writers as Shakespeare, Marlowe, Marston, &c. (Cf. infra 
 IV. iii. 15), for additional evidence. 
 
 Act I. Scene V. 
 
 I. V. 7. Lines 7 and 8 of this Scene have got hopelessly mixed, 
 and Hazlitt's emendations in the Dodsley edition of 1875 have at 
 least the merit of giving sense, if we cannot be certain that the text 
 was as represented. In place of reading ' la teste Theodore ' after 
 ' fort bien,' this proves to be a corruption of ' avec Maistre 
 Theodore." 
 
 114
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 ACT I SCEXE VI. 
 
 I, vi. I. Mr. Macray points out in his edition of the play that the 
 quarto assigns the first four Hues to Phantasma, Furor's speech not 
 beginning until ' Nay, pray thee.' 
 
 I. vi. 2. Thalia. One of the nine Muses who presided over 
 pastoral and comic poetry. 
 
 I. vi. 5. Clio. Another of the Muses, who presided over history ; 
 as Melpomene over tragedy ; Urania over astronomy ; Polyhymnia 
 over singing, rhetoric and harmony ; and Calliope over eloquence 
 and heroic poetr}-. 
 
 I. vi. 20. Odi profanum viilgiis et avcco. Cf. Horace, Odes (Bk. III. 
 I. i). 
 
 I. vi. 42, Eolus. The God of the winds, 
 
 I. vi, 49. Nogs' Head in Cheapside. A well-known hostelry of 
 the time, referred to by Beaumont and Fletcher more than once ; 
 also by Hall and Marston in their Satires. 
 
 Act II. ScEN'E I. 
 
 II. i. 24. Suppositor or a glister=ci suppository or a clyster, 
 medical appliances to give relief in cases of constipation. 
 
 II. i, 35. Crasisaiul syutoma. ' Crasis' means literally the mixture 
 of the different elements in the constitution of the body ; while 
 ' syntoma ' implies the outward symptoms which reveal the character 
 of the disease. 
 
 II. i. 47, Velvet cap. The invariable head-covering of phj-sicians 
 from the fourteenth to the sixteenth centuries was a velvet skull 
 cap. It is mentioned more than once in the literature of the time. 
 Cf. the Bclman of London by Dekker. 
 
 II. i. 60, Sad is the plot . . . tragedy. The author of the piece 
 evidently desires the fact to be understood that if he did not con- 
 form to the rules of classical drama, it was not through ignorance. 
 ' Plot,' ' catastrophe,' ' chorus,' were all terms in vogue at this time
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 in the great dispute between the classical and the romantic drama. 
 Though it did not come to its head for upwards of two hundred 
 years, the discussion frequently crops up by allusion in the Eliza- 
 bethan drama. 
 
 II. ii. 66. Mossy bai'bariaiis=somQ critics suggest, 'most like bar- 
 barians.' 
 
 II. ii. 69. Ban'd be those hours = accursed be those hours. Cf. 
 Marlowe's ^ew of Malta, Act I, Scene ii., ' I ban their souls to ever- 
 lasting pains ; ' also Marston's Antonio and Mellida, Act III. Scene i., 
 * to fret and ban the fates.' 
 
 II. ii. 70. Gmnta's muddy banks. Cf. Bishop Hall's Virgide- 
 mianim, Bk. I. Sat. I. 1. 28, ' To sit and sing by Granta's naked side,' 
 i.e., the Cam at Cambridge. 
 
 II. ii. 73ff. With this entire passage compare Marston's Cynick 
 Satire, Bk. li. vii. 
 
 II. ii. 79. And pilgrims . . . meets us grief. Cf. Richard II. II. 
 i. 158. 
 
 II. ii. 80. This crabbed stage. Cf. As You Like It, ll. vii. 139. 
 
 II. ii. 82. Patience be our page. Cf. parallel passages in Winter's 
 Tale III. ii. 232, also in Henty VIII., v. i. 106. 
 
 Act II. Scene II. 
 
 II. ii. I. Living here refers, of course, not to mere sustenance 
 but to a benefice. 
 
 II. ii. 3. Game of simony. In this connection (see Shakespeare, 
 Henry VIII. IV. ii. 36) ; also Bishop Ken's definition of Simony in 
 his fine treatise Ichabod or Five Groans of the Church, " Simony is 
 an intentive desire or purpose to buy or sell a Spiritual living or 
 any corporal thing annexed to the Church." 
 
 Act II. Scene III. 
 II. iii. 8. Chaffered C/»Hrc/z = bargained benefice. Cf. Chaucer, 
 Tales of Third Day, 1. 2438, • Syn Wommen konnen outen swich 
 Chaffare.' 
 
 n6
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 II. iii. 9. Hobby, a small horse or nag, usually strong and active, 
 and often a native of Ireland. Such horses grew to be so popular, 
 says tradition, that they became proverbial for anything of which 
 people were very fond. 
 
 II. iii. 16. Adaiitant=:^ihe magnet. Cf. Troilus and Cressida ill. 
 ii. 177 ; also Green's Tu Qiioqiie, ' as true to thee as steel to adamant,' 
 and Browne's Britaunia's Pastorals, Song I — 
 
 ' The adamant and beauty we discover 
 To be alike : for beauty draws a lover 
 As adamant his iron.' 
 
 II. iii. 20. She's Cleopatra, &c. The reference here cannot be to 
 Shakespeare's play of Antony and Cleopatra, but possibly to Daniel's 
 (i595)> or to one of the older plays now lost. 
 
 II. iii. 29. lo, the mistress of Jupiter ; who was driven forth by 
 the jealousy of Juno to wander over the world in the form of a 
 heifer and tormented by the attacks of a sleepless gadfly. See 
 .^schylus's Prometheus Bound. 
 
 II. iii. 31. Pasipha;, the wife of Minos, king of Crete, who, 
 according to tradition, was inspired with an unnatural passion for 
 a bull. The fruit of this intercourse was the fabled monster, the 
 Minotaur. 
 
 Act II. ScEXE IV 
 
 H. iv. 0. Old truepenny come to town. Truepenny means an 
 honest man. Collier asserts this phrase to be a mining term used 
 to indicate signs in the strata where gold is found. To this day 
 Australian diggers call a thin leader of gold broadening out into a 
 reef, a ' tripany,' which is the same word. Cf. Hamlet's phrase 
 employed towards his father's spirit, ' Art thou there, truepenny ? ' 
 Cf. also my edition of Hamlet in Dent's ' School Shakespeare,' where 
 the subject is discussed. 
 
 117
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 II. iv. 24. Gntiuito = gratuity, cf. Tuxl/ih Night, II. iii. 27. 
 
 II. iv. 26. Bishop's poser=the bishop's examining chaplain, so 
 called from apposer. In a will of James the First's reign the curate 
 of the parish was expected to appose or examine the children of a 
 charity school. Hazlitt, in his edition of the play, states that the 
 term poser is still retained in the schools at St. Paul's, Winchester 
 and Eton. Two fellows are annually deputed by the Society of 
 New College and King's College in Cambridge, to ' appose ' or try 
 the abilities of the boys, who may be elected to the fellowships 
 that become vacant in the ensuing year. 
 
 II. iv. 30. This Popish tongue of Latin. The common people were 
 very much against the mass being celebrated in a language they 
 did not understand. One of the first advantages which Latimer 
 pointed out after the Reformation, was, ' You will have your 
 services in English.' 
 
 Act II, Scene V. 
 
 II. v. I. Gallant i' faith. Doubt exists whether this exclamation 
 terminates the fourth scene or commences the fifth. I prefer to 
 regard it as the latter, inasmuch as Amoretto is reading in Ovid, 
 and affects to admire a passage when he sees Academico approaching 
 him. 
 
 II. V. 6. This sweet sir, a satirical allusion to the unguents and 
 perfumes wherewith Amoretto is beplastered and scented. 
 
 II. V. 21. (2«ec«'i(/rt_y= the Queen's birthday. 
 
 II. V. 21. A show. Probably a masque played before his college 
 by certain of the students. ' A show ' often meant a Mystery or 
 Miracle play, but that could scarcely be implied here. 
 
 II. V. 30. Musing on ]icrincazc = m*iA\i2^.iing on her shadow. The 
 hare was supposed to be a melancholy animal, and its flesh was sup- 
 posed to engender melancholy in those that ate it Nor was this 
 idea confined to England. La Fontaiae (Lib. II. fab. 14) says — 
 
 118
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 * Dans un profond ennui ce lievre se plongeoit 
 Get animal est triste et la crainte le rounge.' 
 
 Hence Falstaff is told by Prince Henry that he is as melancholy as 
 a hare (i Hent'y IV. I. ii. 82). 
 
 II. V. 88. Recheat=3. recall or retreat : certain notes on the horn 
 sounded to call the dogs off. In Much Ado about Nothing (l. i. 234) 
 Benedick says, * I will have a recheat winded-in my forehead,' while 
 in Drayton's Polyolbioni{Bk. Xiii.) we read, • Rechating with his horn 
 which then the hunter chears.' 
 
 II. V. 112. Raches. The first edition reads caches. ' The rache is 
 a dog which (says Hazlitt) hunts wild beasts, birds, and even fish 
 by scent. The female is called brache." The term brack alone is 
 now -in use. Cf. i Henry IV. ill. i. 240, also Troiltts and Cressida 
 II. i. 126. 
 
 II. V. 157. Viols de gambo=:or bass viol, which usually had six 
 strings. Cf. Twelfth Night (i. iii. 25), where on Maria calling Sir 
 Andrew Aguecheek * a fool and a prodigal,' Sir Toby Belch defends 
 him. ' Fye tliat you'll say so ! he plays o' the viol-de-gamboys and 
 speaks three or four languages word for word without book.' 
 
 II. V. i6o. Actceon's fortune, who was changed into a stag and 
 devoured by his own dogs owing to his having seen the goddess 
 Diana bathing. Cf. Ovid, Metani. (Bk. Iii. fab. 3). 
 
 Act 1 1. Scene VI. 
 
 II. vi. 32. Go to meat when the bell rings. It was thought a mark 
 of good breeding not to hurry to table when the dinner-bell rang. 
 See Dekker's Guls Hornbook and Butler's Luxurious Man in his 
 Characters. 
 
 II. vi. 36. Cannot make a good lcg=ca.nnot bow in the most 
 approved manner. Cf. All's Well that Ends Well (11. ii. 10), where 
 the clown says, ' He that cannot make a leg, put off's cap, kiss his 
 hand and say nothing, has neither leg, hand, lip nor cap.' Cf. in 
 
 119
 
 .<,6tes The Return 
 
 this connection, the whole of that scene, which manifests in places a 
 striking resemblance to the conversation between Amoretto and his 
 page. 
 
 II. vi. 43. Lay in a tnindlebed uuder my tutor ; also called a 
 trucklebed because, running on castors, it was trundled or truckled, 
 i.e., pushed beneath the other. Such a bed was usually appro- 
 priated to a servant or an attendant. Cf. Bishop Hall's Vitgidc- 
 miarnm (Bk. II. Sat. vi. 1. 5)— 
 
 ' First that he lie upon the trucklebed, 
 While his young maister lieth o'er his head.' 
 
 In the statutes of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, given in 1516, 
 the scholars are ordered to sleep under the beds of the Fellows in 
 trucklebeds. See also the statutes of Magdalen College given in 
 1459, and in Trinity (1556). Cf. Dr. Grosart's note on Hall's 
 Sixth Satire of the second book. 
 
 II. vi. 57. Vanished. In the first edition the text reads ' ravished,' 
 which is sheer nonsense. 
 
 II. vi. 67. Jury of /aces = exhibiting as many diverse types of 
 expression of face as one sees in a jury. 
 
 II. vi. 88. Writhes his month = t\\'[sts his mouth awry in token of 
 extreme chagrin. Ci.Aminianus Marcellinus (1609), 'With beautiful 
 women with their hands writhed and pinioned behind their backs.' 
 
 II. vi. 91. Stales with a good presence=ztir:xcts attention by its 
 good presence. The same use of the word is found in the Tempest 
 IV. i. 1 87, when Prospero says — 
 
 ' The trumpery in my house, go, bring it hither, 
 For stale to catch these thieves.' 
 
 ACT III. Scene I. 
 
 III. i. I. Caution the tithes . . . at such a rate. If such practices 
 as are disclosed in this scene are to be regarded as representing 
 
 120
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 ecclesiastical use and wont in the Protestant Church of England, in 
 the days of Elizabeth, the Regent Morton's sj'stem of ' Tulchan 
 l^ishops' in Scotland is quite paralleled. A 'Tulchan' gave his 
 patron all the revenues of his see save a miserable pittance on 
 which he lived. Seemingl}-, that is what Sir Raderic compelled 
 Immerito to do. 
 
 III. i. lo. A sufficient iiia)i=a man capable of performing the 
 duties required in a fit or adequate manner. Cf. Othello (iii. iv. 9i)» 
 where Desdemona says of Cassio, ' You'll never meet a more suffi- 
 cient man;' also in the Taming of the Shreio, where Biondello 
 cries, 'To the church, take the priest, clerk and some sufficient 
 witnesses.' 
 
 III. i. 17. .1/C5S o//f«';/;c«/j', also pronounced 'furmity,' and' frumity.' 
 A dish greatly relished in the North of England, consisting of 
 hulled wheat boiled in milk and seasoned. It was especially a 
 Christmas dish. Cf. the following lines from Poor Robin — 
 
 ' Christmas is come and now the smell 
 Of roast beef does exceeding well, 
 With mutton pasty and minced pie, 
 Pork, plum broth, veal, and furmity.' 
 
 III. i. 87. Crafty d u 11 sery= the craft often shown by the dunce to 
 conceal his ignorance. This passage, as Professor Arber thinks, 
 establishes the date of the writing of the play and its production, 
 as being at the Christmastide of 1601-2, or possibly on New Year's 
 Day, 1602, which fell on a Friday. In England and Ireland the 
 year was reckoned from the 25th of March to the 24th of March 
 from 1155 A.D. to 1751 A.D., when the change was made to our 
 present system. All years had by the old reckoning above stated 
 two and sometimes even three year-letters, as in the twelve months 
 from 1601 the following letters would be used, 25th of March 1601 
 to 31st of December 1601 = Dom. Lett. D. ; i January 1602 to 24th 
 of March i6o2 = Dom. Lett. C. Cf. Ward, Dram. Lit. vol. ii. p. 633. 
 
 121
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 III. i. Ii6. The Queen's Day. Not Her Majesty's birthday here (as 
 in II. V. 2i), which was September 7th, but the date of her accession, 
 which was 17th of November. Hazlitt states that as Elizabeth died 
 on March 24, 1602-3, ^^^ ^s the reference is to the ' Queen's Day ' 
 and not to King James's Day, we have certain evidence that the play 
 was written by or before the end of the year 1602-3, 
 
 III. i. 152. Abstain from controversies. The Ma rpretaie Controversy 
 had not been forgotten, although it was at least eleven j-ears in 
 the past when this play was produced. The evidence all points to 
 the reference here being to the Marprelate tracts, which certainly 
 girded and that furiously at people of worship. 
 
 Act III. Scene II. 
 
 III. ii. I. I have fleshed my prodigal boy notably— 1 h^ve satisfied 
 his demands. Cf. Henry V. ii. iv. 50, 'The kindred of him hath 
 been fleshed upon us.' 
 
 III. ii. 5ff. You do well . . . say nothing. This is precisely the 
 Regent Morton's Tulchan system. 
 
 III. ii. 8. Princox^a. pert, proud youth. Cf. Romeo and Juliet, 
 1. V. 88, * You are a princox, go ! ' Also in New Custom (l. ii,), 
 Perverse Doctrine ' thus assails ' New Custom ' — 
 
 •Think'st thou I have no logic, indeed, think'st thou so? 
 Yes, princox, that I have for forty years ago 
 I could smatter in a Duns prettily ' 
 
 III. ii. ir. An unthankful viper. A reference to ^sop's fable of 
 the ' Countryman and the Snake.' 
 
 III. ii. 12. A ragged clerk. Cf. Chaucer's description of the 
 Clerk of Oxenford. Some of the features of the latter seem 
 reproduced here. 
 
 111. ii. 13. Sonic Stamcll jvcui'cr^some weaver of stamell, which 
 was a kind of coarse red cloth. Cf. Ben Jonson's Undcrit'oods, 
 
 122
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 ' Redliood the first that doth appear iu Stamell ' ; also in Beaumont 
 and Fletcher's Little French Laivyer (i. i.) — 
 
 ' But I'll not quarrell with this gentleman 
 For wearing stamell breeches.' 
 
 II. ii. I3ff, Some butcher's son, &c. In this line and the next 25, 
 the writer seems to be hitting at Shakespeare. 
 
 Act III. Scene III. 
 
 III. iii. r. r/?e^ose>-=the bishop's chaplain whose office it usually 
 was to examine the presentees to livings to ensure that they were 
 possessed of the requisite scholarship and attainments to fill the 
 office creditably. 
 
 III. iii. 21. Maribone =im.rro\v-hone. Mary was a common 
 corruption of ' marrow.' Cf. Homer a la Mode — 
 
 'Some more devout clownes partly guessing, 
 When he's almost come to the blessing 
 Prepare tlieir staves and rise at once 
 Saying " Amen " off their marybones.' 
 
 III. iii. 27. Point trusser ; or, as we would say in the idiom of to- 
 day, a valet. 
 
 III. iii. 29. Paul's Churchyard and its neighbourhood were then as 
 now, the place where booksellers congregated. 
 
 III. iii. 30. Ronsard =zPicrrQ de Ronsard (1524-1585), called by 
 contemporaries Prince of Poets, was the greatest name in the 
 circle of poets called the Pleiade. His Odes, Lcs Amours de 
 Cassandrc, Lcs Amours de Marie, Hymnes, can still be read with 
 pleasure. 
 
 III. iii. 30. Du Barias =Gnilla.ume de Saluste, Sieur du Bartas 
 (1544-1590), one of the most popular poets in Europe in the 
 
 123
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 sixteenth centiiiy, whose La Premiere Seiiiaiiie (First Week of 
 Creation) went through thirty editions in a few years. 
 
 III. iii. 31. Aretinc=Fieiro Aretino (1492-1557), dramatist and 
 writer of sonnets and satires of an exceedingly fleshly and prurient 
 type. His wit and humour were undoubted, and his licentiousness 
 of speech and life was forgiven for the brilliancy of his conversation 
 and writing. 
 
 HI. iii, 57, As glad as if he had taken Ostend. The brilliant 
 defence of Ostend by Prince Maurice of Orange against the 
 Spaniards (1601-1604), was at the time when this play was written 
 the theme of praise all over Europe. Though eventually the town 
 had to capitulate to superior numbers, the loss inflicted on the 
 besiegers was so great that it materially conduced to bringing 
 about the recognition of the Republic of the Netherlands. 
 
 ACT III. Scene IV. 
 
 III. iv. 10. Paltry trulls of Helicon = thc Muses. Cf. in this con- 
 nection Pistol's expression in 2 Henry IV. (V. iii. 107), ' Shall dung- 
 hill curs confront the Helicons.' 
 
 III. iv. 17. The firmament's eternal vagabond. Because the chariot 
 of Phoebus was supposed to traverse the circle of the sky within 
 the hours of day. 
 
 III. iv. 20. De/tc/es= delicate fancies. 
 
 III. iv. 23. Cttrrus auriga paterni. Ovid, Mctam. (Bk. ii, 1. 327). 
 
 III. iv. 43. Thickthwart terms. Cf. ' Such scurvy and provoking 
 terms,' Othello I. ii. 7. 
 
 III. iv. 48. In nova fcrt animus mutatas diccre formas. Ovid, 
 Metam. (Bk. 1. i). 
 
 III. iv. 51. Mrt^«»^co= a Venetian senator. Cf. Othello, i. ii. 12. 
 
 III. iv. 60. Furor arma ininistrat. Virgil, jEneid (Bk. I. 1. 150). 
 
 III. iv. 69. Omnc tulit punduni, &c. Horace, De Aria Poctica 
 (1. 343). 
 
 J 24
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 ACT II J, SCEXE V. 
 
 III. V. I3ff. Why do men . . . our misery. This seems to be a 
 reference to Kyd's Spanishl Tragedy, where the Ghost of Andrea 
 practically occupies the stage as a chorus from the beginning to the 
 end of the play. 
 
 III. V. igff. It's time to sleep within our hollow graves. Cf. 
 Richard III. iv. i. 94. 
 
 III. iv. 40-48. Nay let us run . . . irked misery. Cf. the passage 
 inWehster's Duchess 0/ Mal/i (Act IV. ii. 196), beginning, ' Hark, now, 
 everything is still.' 
 
 Act IV. Scene I. 
 
 IV. i. I. Master Prodigo was probably the ' unthrift' referred to 
 in Act III. ii. 92. 
 
 IV. i. 26. Ostend. The siege of Ostend, where the English were 
 assisting Maurice, Prince of Orange and the Netherlanders, against 
 the Spanish. 
 
 IV. i, 39. Kiss the pantofle. PantoRe {Fr. pautoufie) was a slipper. 
 One page was always told off as the ' pantofle page.' Cf. Mas- 
 singer's Unnatural Combat, III. ii. — 
 
 ' Ere I was 
 Sworn to the pantofle, I have heard my tutor 
 Prove it by logic that a servant's life 
 Was better than his master's.' 
 
 IV. i. 51. Unlaced rabbit = a cant term for a woman who plays 
 the prostitute in secret. The usual term for a prostitute in Eliza- 
 bethan days was ' laced mutton,' as, for example, in Ben Jonson's 
 Masi]. of Nat Triumph, ' a fine laced mutton or two and either has her 
 frisking husband.' But sometimes it meant a finely dressed woman, 
 as in Two Gentlemen of Verona (i. i. 96), ' Ay, sir, I, a lost mutton, 
 
 125
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 gave your letter to her, a laced mutton.' Rabbit, according to Dyce, 
 was the academical word. 
 
 IV. i. 6i. To moot=^to plead a hypothetical cause by way of 
 exercise, a common practice in the Inns of Court. 
 
 IV. i. 73. Littkton. Sir Thomas Littleton (1402-1481), the great 
 English jurist, whose work on Tenures, written in Norman French, 
 was long a standard work. After being commented upon by Sir 
 John Coke in the well-known treatise, Coke upon Littleton, it con- 
 tinued to maintain its reputation until comparatively recent times. 
 
 Act IV. Scene II. 
 
 IV. ii. 5. Pomiindef—?L ball composed of or filled with perfumes, 
 carried in the pocket or about the neck. In the old play. Lingua 
 (IV. iii. i), the First Boy saj^s, ' Your only way to make a good 
 pomander is this : — Take an ounce of the purest garden mould, 
 cleansed and steeped seven days in change of motherless rosewater, 
 then take the best lodanum, benzoine, both storaxes, ambergris, 
 civet and musk, incorporate them together and work them into 
 what form you please. This, if your breath is not too valiant, will 
 make you smell as sweet as my lady's dog.' Cf. also Markham's 
 English Housewife (p. 151, edition 1631), for another receipt for 
 making pomanders. Cf. Winter's Talc, iv. iv. 6og. Pomanders 
 were carried in time of plague as a preventive against infection. 
 The name pomander was also applied to the silver box perforated 
 with holes in which the perfume -ball was placed. 
 
 IV. ii. 7. out Gorgoniiis hirciun. Cf. Horace, Sa//res (Bk. I. iv. 92). 
 
 IV. ii. S. Touchbox =i\\Qi\.xrho\. Ci.T^LyXov {Water Poet) wovV.^ — 
 
 * Then with a tuchbox of transalpine tarre 
 Twining thrice round and stirring not a jot.* 
 
 IV. ii. 26. Mcvccuas . . . tuts. The first two lines are from Horace, 
 Oiles{Bk. I. i. I). 
 IV. ii. 56. Littleton. Into this scene large extracts are introduced 
 
 126
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 irom the English translation of Liitktou, wliicli was published 
 about 1500. 
 
 IV. ii. 80. Master Noveritit iiniversiperpresenics. The usual opening 
 words of a proclamation, or statute, or deed of conveyance, ' Know 
 all men by these presents.' Cf. as regards the epithet, '■Master 
 Noverint,' Nash's references to Shakespeare in the preface to Green's 
 Menaphon. in which he alludes to ' a sort of shifting companions 
 that run through every art and thrive by none, to leave the trade of 
 Noverint, whereto they were born, and busy themselves with the 
 endeavours of art, that could scarcely Latinise their neck verse if 
 they should have need,' &c. 
 
 IV. ii. 90. Forfterf A/// = Parnassus. 
 
 IV. ii. 100. I should come off. To come off, as Hazlitt remarks, is 
 equivalent to ' come down,' lit. to pay dearly. In this sense Shake- 
 speare uses it in the Merry Wives of Windsor (iv. iii. 8), where the 
 Host sa3's, ' They (the Germans) shall have my horses ; but I'll make 
 them pay ; . . . I'll sauce them ; . . . they must come off,' 
 
 IV. ii. 135. Til e Queen's orno = to see if there could not be read 
 into them some suspicion of treason. 
 
 IV. ii. 136. Scmel insanivimiis ontues=\we have all at some time or 
 other been mad. A Latin proverb which appears in various forms 
 in several of the best known classical writers. 
 
 IV. ii. 151. Devil's feIlo%c<-cotnmoners. The popular terra for lawyers 
 in Elizabethan times. 
 
 IV. ii. 155. Like a sumner=a summoner, or, as the office is called 
 to-day, ' an apparitor.' It was a term so common as to have become 
 a proper name. Cf . A Watch at Midnight, ' Ear-lack thou art a goat, 
 I'll set a sumner at thee. 
 
 IV. ii. 174. Monsieur Plozaden or Ploiden. Edward Plowden 
 (1517-1584), Serjeant-at-Law, was a well-known lawyer in the reign 
 of Mary and the early part of Elixabeth's, being twice a reader of 
 the Middle Temple. He died in his sixty-seventh year and is 
 buried in the Temple Church. He is the author of Reports or Com- 
 
 127
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 mentaries, which are a collection of important cases, extending 
 from the reign of Edward VI. to the middle of that of Elizabeth. 
 The first complete edition was in black letter, and in Norman 
 French, being issued in 1684, while the second is in English and 
 appeared in 1761. 
 
 IV. ii, 180. C«'(/a;j/ anna to^ae (Cicero) = lit. let arms give place to 
 the gown, or, in other words, let military affairs j'ield to civil. 
 
 IV. ii. 183. Close Venetian hose. Fashions changed then even 
 more rapidly than they do now. For example, the hose or breeches 
 changed their shape several times during the reign of Elizabeth. 
 Early in that period the ' French hose,' very round and narrow, 
 and gathered into a series of puffs around the thigh, were in general 
 vogue. They were followed by the ' Flemish or Gallic hose,' very 
 large and wide, reaching down to the knees. Finally there were 
 the ' Venetian hose,' which reached beneath the knee to the garter- 
 ing place of the leg, where they were tied finely with silk points or 
 some such like ' (Coryat). Some have considered hose should be 
 applied only to stockings, but this was only true after the Restora- 
 tion. Cf. Merry Wives of Windsor (ill. i.), 'Youthful still in your 
 doublet and hose, this raw rheumatic day.' 
 
 IV. ii. 185. The Connter=the prison of that name. According to 
 Halliwell there were two prisons called the ' Counter ' in the city 
 of London, one in the Poultry, the other in Wood Street. Cf. the 
 play, Sir Thomas More, ' I appeal from Newgate to any of the two 
 worshipful Counters.' 
 
 IV. ii. 199. Flederc si . . . Acheronta movcbo. Qi.XivgxVsMneid, 
 (Bk. VII. 1. 312). 
 
 IV. ii. 200. Megcera, one of the Furies, daughter of Nox and 
 Acheron. She was employed by the gods to punish the crimes of 
 mankind by visiting them with dire diseases and death. Cf. Virgil, 
 Mneid (Bk. .xii. I. 846). Like her sisters she is represented as 
 having snakes curling round her head in place of hair. 
 
 IV. ii. 202. Hircan tigers. Hyrcania was the ancient name of a 
 
 128
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 large country of Asia, north of Parthia and at the west of Media, 
 abounding in tigers, serpents, and all kinds of savage creatures. 
 It corresponds to the modern Mazanderan and Asterabad. Cf. 
 Macbeth, III. iv. loi ; also Merchant of Venice, II. vii. 41. 
 
 IV. ii. 206, Some wicked hell hound. Cf. Richard III., IV. iv. 48ff . 
 
 IV. ii. 211. Alecto, another of the Furies, who was constantly 
 breathing vengeance, pestilence and torture. 
 
 IV. ii. 220. Arma,virumque cano. M>ieid [B^s.. I. 1. i). 
 
 IV, ii. 228. Drover of livings. Referring to the transaction recorded 
 in Act II. Scene iv. 
 
 IV. ii. 229. Steeple fairs =i^[rs at which servants were hired. 
 
 IV. ii. 253. Gramercy lit. grand tnerci = greztthsinks in some C3LSts ; 
 but in others it is used as an expletive of surprise. 
 
 IV. ii. 258. Procul hinc . . . profani. Note the quotation with 
 modifications from Mneid, VI. 1. 258. 
 
 Act IV. Scene III. 
 
 IV. iii. Burbage and Kemp, two of the most celebrated players of 
 the age. The former (1567-16 18) was the greatest tragic actor of 
 his epoch, perhaps of any epoch, Richard III. being his favourite 
 rdle, while the latter excelled in low comedy. Kemp was chiefly 
 notable for his extraordinary feat of dancing a morrice dance all 
 the way from London to Norwich, a description of which is con- 
 tained in a pamphlet called Kemp's Nine Daies Wonder. 
 
 IV. iii. 6ff. Never speak in their walk . . . no further = a. pecuU2Lrity 
 of most amateur players that they cannot speak their part when 
 moving about, but must stand and declaim. Cf. Hamlet's Advice to 
 the Players (ill. ii. 1-40). 
 
 IV. iii. 16. That writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphoses— 2i 
 quip upon the excessive fondness for classical allusions which 
 characterised the coterie known as ' the University Wits.' 
 
 IV. iii. 18. Our fellow Shakespeare. This interesting contemporary 
 
 129 K
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 reference to the great dramatist shows the estimation in which he 
 was held, and that even Jonson had to take an inferior place in 
 comparison with him. 
 
 IV. iii. 20. Horace, giving the poets a pill. This ' pill ' has been 
 thought by some commentators to be a reference to the ' Poetaster.' 
 Cf. Gifford's notes in his edition of Ben jonson. 
 
 IV. iii, 22. A purge. Whatever this may have been, it is now no 
 longer extant, unless it be Troilus and Cressida. Cf. Professor Penni- 
 man's War of the Theatres. He says, ' What was the " purge " given 
 by Shakespeare to Ben Jonson ? ' The natural answer is ' a play.' 
 But what play ? The only play of Shakespeare's that it is at all 
 possible to regard as the ' purge ' is Troilus and Cressida, and there 
 is evidence which seems to point to this play as in some way con- 
 nected with the quarrel between Jonson and Marston. The sub- 
 play in Histriomasiix is Troilus and Cressida, in which occur the 
 lines — 
 
 ' Thy knight his valiant elbow weares, 
 That when he shakes his furious speare 
 The foe in shivering fearful sort, 
 May lay him down in death to snort.' 
 
 In Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida (i. iii.) is the line — 
 
 ' When rank Thersites opes his mastic jaws.' 
 
 The apparent play on Shakespeare's name in Marston's line coupled 
 with the fact that it occurs in a parody of a play called Troilus and 
 Cressida, makes the line of Shakespeare seem a reply. . . . The as- 
 sumption that there is a connection between the two lines has led 
 to the conclusion that in Shakespeare's play Thersites is Marston, 
 and since we are told that Shakespeare gave Ben Jonson a ' purge,' 
 it has been concluded that Ajax is Jonson {War of the Theatres, p. 147). 
 Mr. Fleay, in his Chronicle of the English Dratna, is inclined to 
 
 130
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 lend the weight of his opinion to the support of the theory that 
 Troilus and Cressida was the 'purge.' But it will be objected that 
 Troilus and Cressida was not acted. It was not ' staled ' indeed on 
 the London stage, but in 1601 the Chamberlain's men travelled 
 and visited the Universities, and I have no doubt acted Troilus and 
 Cressida at Cambridge, where the authors of the Return from 
 Parnassus saw it. The ' purge ' is from ll. iii. 203, ' he'll be the 
 ph3fsician that should be the patient.' ' When the Chamberlain's 
 men returned to London at the close of 1601, Jonson, Marston, and 
 Shakespeare were reconciled, and Troilus was not produced on the 
 public stage.' Chronicle of the English Drama (l. p. 3O6). 
 
 IV. iii. 36. Dancing the Morrice over the Alps = z reference to 
 Kemp's dance from London to Norwich. Cf. the 'Nine Days' 
 Wonder performed in a daunce from London to Norwich, Containing 
 the Pleasure, Pains and kind Entertainment of William Kemp between 
 London and that City in his late Morrice. London. Printed by 
 E. A. for Nicholas Ling, and are to be sold at his shop at the West 
 door of St. Paul's Church.' The tract has been reprinted by 
 Professor Arber in his English Garner. 
 
 IV. iii. 47. Sellcnger's Round=St. Leger's Round, a popular dance 
 with the lower classes. From extant descriptions of it, the dance 
 must not have been unlike the modern ' Haymakers.' 
 
 IV. iii. 52ff. Your part in cue, the quarto reads 'As you part in 
 kne,' which is sheer nonsense. We are indebted to Mr. Carew 
 Hazlitt, in his edition of the play in Dodslefs Old Plays, for bringing 
 sense out of nonsense. As he says, a pun upon the word 'cue,' 
 which is a hint to the actor to proceed with his part, and has the 
 same sound with the letter ' q,' which is the mark of a farthing in 
 college buttery books. To size means ' to battle,' or to be charged 
 in the college accounts for provisions. A ' q ' is so called because 
 it is the initial letter of quadrans, the fourth part of a penny. 
 
 IV. iii. 54. You must untruss~you must dress up in order to recite 
 your part ; in Scriptural phrase, ' you must gird up your loins.'
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 IV, iii. 6i. Who calls Hieronimo, &c. This passage is taken from 
 Kyd's Spanish Tragedy, one of the most popular dramas of the 
 period. See (ii. v. i), just prior to the time when Hieronimo (or 
 Jeronimo) finds the body of his son Horatio hanging in the 
 garden. 
 
 IV. iii. 66, A foolish mayor or justice of the peace. In this saying 
 Kemp probably had the vision of ' Robert Shallow, Esquire, in the 
 County of Gloster, justice of peace and corma, ay and custalorum, 
 ay and ratalorum too, and a gentleman born, master parson, who 
 writes himself armigero in any bill, warrant, quittance and obliga- 
 tion armigero and have done any time these 300 years, all his suc- 
 cessors that have gone before him hath done't ; and all his ancestors 
 that come after him may.' 
 
 IV. iii. 87. See how you can <fo = see what you can do. 
 
 IV, iii. 94. Richard III. That this was Shakespeare's Richard III. 
 is proved by the well-known lines in 96 and 97 which are taken 
 from the opening of the play. 
 
 IV. iii. 104. Otioso. Kemp uses this name as a jest to designate 
 Studioso. 
 
 IV. iii. 117, 'Mongst the . . . pains. Cf, Horace, Sa^/r« (l. i. 4). 
 
 IV, iii. 118. Wailing merchant =ihe qmrtoha.s waiting merchant. 
 
 IV, iii. 128. Li»s = ceases. Cf. Jack Juggler. Careaway's first 
 speech, 1. 20 — 
 
 ' If she once begin 
 To fight or chide in a week she would not lin.' 
 
 IV. iii. 152. Proudest bard of Po = oi Italy as a whole. As the 
 north of Italy and more particularly the towns situated near or in 
 the valley of the Po were famous for their culture, and as seats of 
 learning and the arts, the river itself is by synecdoche taken for 
 the whole of the country, 
 
 IV, iii, 159. Cockle=3. troublesome weed with a purple flower 
 which grows amongst corn. 
 
 133
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 Act. V, Scene I. 
 
 V. i. 3. Keysar=Kdiisev from Latin Caesar or Emperor. 
 
 V. i. 12. Glorious vagabonds =the players. A jealousy always 
 existed between the University wits and the players, the latter 
 considering themselves overlooked by the former, while the former 
 envied the financial prosperity of the latter. Cf. Marston, Satire x. 
 {Humours) 1. 37 — 
 
 ' Luscus, what's played to-day ? faith now I know, 
 I set thy lips abroach from whence doth flow, 
 Nought but pure Juliet and Romeo. 
 Say, who acts best ? Drusus or Roscio ; 
 Now I have him that ne'er of aught did speak. 
 But when of plays and players he did treat 
 Hath made a common-place book out of playes, 
 And speaks in print, at least whate'er he says 
 Is warranted by curtain plaudities. 
 If ere you heard him Courting Lesbia's eyes, 
 Say, Courteous Sir, speaks he not movingly 
 From out some new pathetic tragedie.' 
 
 V. i. 18. Thy purchase land . . , made. Some critics have dis- 
 cerned in this a reference to Shakespeare's purchase of New Place 
 and of his application for a coat of arms for his father. 
 
 V. i. 22ff. The world and fortune . . . doth end. Cf. Shakespeare's 
 Sonnets (No. xxxii. and Ix.). 
 
 V. i. 33ff. How can he sing . . . hollow breast. For the song of 
 Philomusus. Cf. Tottel's Miscellany. Wyatt's song, ' The lover 
 complaineth the unkindness of his love.' 
 
 Act V. Scene II. 
 
 V. ii. 3. Never a basket of capons. This shows how venal were 
 the judges and justices of the period when bribes were so
 
 NOTES The Return 
 
 freely given as to be looked for before judgment would be pro- 
 nounced. 
 
 V, ii. i6. Master Dowland's making. Dowland was a famous 
 lutenist, who published his first book of Madrigals and Canzonets in 
 1597. a second volume in 1600, and a third in 1603. 
 
 V. ii. 46. Go on the score for i7 = run into debt for it. Cf. Taming 
 of the Shrew. Induction (ii. 25), ' I am not fourteen pence on the 
 the score.' 
 
 V. ii. 57. Whose wits praise worth I deem = whose wits worth)' of 
 praise I deem. 
 
 V. ii. 76. A shepherd's poor secure contented life. It is singular to 
 note how whenever misfortunes chanced to overtake any of the 
 characters in Elizabethan literature, they at once let their thoughts 
 wander towards a pastoral life as if that contained within itself the 
 essence of all happiness. Yet we never hear of them in actual 
 existence adopting a shepherd's life with its hardships and trials. 
 
 V. iii. 84. Arcady — iho. mythical Arcadia where eternal summer 
 reigned, and shepherds and shepherdesses fed their flocks on the 
 banks of crystal rills and filled in the intervals of love-making with 
 piping on the oaten reed. Cf. Milton's Arcades, 28 — 
 
 ' Of famous Arcady ye are and sprung 
 Of that renowned flood, so often sung, 
 Divine Alpheus.' 
 
 V, ii. 91. Thacked s/fl//= thatched stall. 
 
 Act V. Scene III. 
 
 V. iii, 5. Isle of Dogs. The island in the Thames was at one time 
 regarded as a sanctuary for debt. Thomas Nash wrote a play 
 entitled The Isle of Dogs, which got him into sore trouble, hence 
 some would argue that Ingenioso was intended to represent Nash.
 
 from Parnassus notes 
 
 Act V. Scene IV. 
 
 V. iv. 37. Lords of Misrule. One of the Christmas sports practised 
 in England. Strutt, in the Sports and the Pastimes of the People of 
 England, says, ' The mock prince or lord of misrule, whose reign 
 extended through the greater part of the holiday, is a personage 
 rarely to be met with out of England.' Philip Stubbes, in his 
 Anatomy of Abuses, says, ' the wild heads of the parish flocking 
 together choose them a grand captaine of mischief whom they 
 ennoble with the title of Lord of Misrule. Him they crown with 
 great solemnity and adopt for their king. The king annoyted 
 chooseth forth twentie, fourty, threescore lusty fellows to wait on 
 himself whom he investeth in his liveries of green, yellow or some 
 other light wanton colour. Thus all things set in order, then have 
 they their hobby-horses, their dragoons and other antiques, to- 
 gether with their pipers and drummers. Then march this heathen 
 company to the Church, their pipers piping, their drums thundring 
 their stumps dauncing, their belles jingling, their handkerchiefs 
 fluttering about like mad men, their hobbie horses and other 
 monsters skirmishing among the throng, and in this sort they go 
 to the Church though the minister be at prayer or preaching, 
 dancing and singing like devils incarnate with such a confused 
 noise that no one can hear his own voyce. Then the foolish 
 people look, laugh, stare, fleere, and mount upon the formes to see 
 these goodly pageants solemnised. Then after this about the 
 Church they go, again and again and so fourthe into the Church- 
 yard, where they have commonly their sommer-halls, their bowers, 
 arbours and banquetting. In Scotland the Lord of Misrule was 
 called the Abbot of Unreason.' See Warton's History of English 
 Poetry, vol. iv. p. 167. 
 
 V. iv. 63. Rue=the quarto reads 'run ' which is notably absurd, 
 
 V. iv. 64. Sluttish. The quarto reads ' cluttish.' 
 
 V. iv. 80. Quos ego sed motospraestat componere fiuctus. Cf. Virgil, 
 ^neid (i. 135).
 
 NOTES The Return from Parnassus 
 
 V. iv. 8l. The Snarling island =:the Isle of Dogs. 
 
 V. iv. 109. Preferments a/woners=« distributors of patronage. 
 
 V. iv. 121. Et longum vale inquit lola. Virgil, Buc. Eclog. ii. 79, 
 
 V. iv. 122. Masty-dog=m?LStifi dog. 
 
 'They hold their breath and so still undescried, 
 They pass hard by the watchful mastie's side.' 
 Sylvester's Du Barias (Pt. IV., Day iii., Week iv., 1. 357) 
 
 V. iv 125. For this line the quarto reads, ' and snarl and grin 
 and lowre and lugge the world.' 
 
 V. iv. 126. Lugs. Note the use of a word which is now generally 
 considered a Scots' dialecticism. Cf . the drama Midas, ' Can you 
 think your clumsy lugs so proper to decide as the delicate ears of 
 Justice Midas ' (1. 759). 
 
 V. iv. 140. Seely hand=skii{u\ hand : the older edition read, 
 • feeling hand.' 
 \ V. iv. 152. Sei=fashion, mould, or form. Cf. Love's Labour Lost, 
 V. ii. 29. 
 
 V. iv. 145. Afjsfr}'=the quarto reads 'miseries.' 
 
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