The excellent Comedy of two the most faithful friends, Damon and Pithias

The excellent Comedy of two the most faithfullest friends, Damon and Pithias.

Newly Imprinted, as the same was showed before the Queen’s Majesty, by the Children of Her Grace’s Chapel, except the Prologue that is somewhat altered for the proper use of them that hereafter shall have occasion to play it, either in private, or open audience. Made by Master Edwards, then being Master of the Children. 1571.

Imprinted at London in Fleet Lane by Richard Jones, and are to be sold at his shop, joining to the Southwest dor of St. Paul’s Church.

THE PROLOGUE.

On every side, wheras I glance my roving eye,

Silence in all ears bent I plainly do spy.

But if your eager looks do long such toys to see,

As heretofore in comical wise, were wont abroad to be,

{5} Your lust is lost, and all the pleasures that you sought,

Is frustrate quite of toying plays. A sudden change is wrought,

For lo, our author’s Muse, that maskd in delight,

Has forced his pen agaynst his kind, no more such sports to write.

Muse he that list, (right worshipfull) for chance has made this change,

{10} For that to some he seemd too much, in young desires to range.

In which, right glad to please, seeing that he did offend,

Of all he humbly pardon craves: his pen that shall amend.

And yet (worshipful audience,) thus much I dare avouch:

In Comedies, the greatest skill is this, rightly to touch

{15} All things to the quick, and eke to frame each person so,

That by his common talk, you may his nature rightly know.

A roister ought not preach (that were too strange to hear),

But as from virtue he does swerve, so ought his words appear.

The old man is sober, the young man rash, the lover triumphing in joys,

{20} The matron grave, the harlot wild and full of wanton toys,

Which all in one course they no wise do agree.

So, correspondent to their kind their speeachs ought to be.

Which speeachs well pronounced, with action lively framed,

If this offend the lookers on, let Horace then be blamed,

{25} Which has our Author taught at School, from whom he does not swerve,

In all such kind of exercise decorum to observe.

Thus much for his defence (he says) as poets before have done,

Which heretofore in Comedies the self-same race did run.

But now for to be brief, the matter to express,

{30} Which here we shall present, is this: Damon and Pithias,

A rare example of Friendship true. It is no legend-lie,

But a thing once done indeed as histories do describe,

Which done of yore in long time past, yet present shall be here,

Even as it were in doing now, so lively it shall appear.

{35} Lo here is Siracuse, the aucient Town, which once did Romans won;

Here Dionysius’ Palace, within whose Cause this thing most strange was done.

Which matter mixed with mirth and care, a just name to apply,

As seems most fit we have it termed a Tragical Comedy.

Wherein talking of Courtly toys, we do protest this flat:

{40} We talk of Dionysius’ Court, we mean no Court but that,

And that we do so mean, who wisely calls to mind

The time, the place, the auyours here most plainely shall it find.

Lo this I speak for our defence, lest of others we should be shent,

But worthy audience, we you pray, take things as they be meant,

{45} Whose upright judgement wee do crave, with heedful ear and eye,

To hear the cause, and see the effect of this new Tragical Comedy. Exit.

The Speakers' names.

Aristippus, a pleasant Gentleman.
Carisophus, a Parasite.
Damon, Pithias, two gentlemen of Greece.
Stephano, servant to Damon and Pithias.
Will, Aristippus’ lackey.
Jack, Carisophus’ lackey.
Snap, the Portier.
Dionysius, the King.
Eubulus, the King’s counselor.
Gronno, the Hangman.
Grim, the Collier.

[SCENE 1.]

Here enters Aristippus.
ARISTIPPUS.

Too strange (perhaps) it seems to some,

That I Aristippus, a Courtier am become.

A philosopher of late, not of the meanest name,

But now to the Courtly behaviour my life I frame.

{5} Muse he that list, to you of good skill,

I say that I am a Philosopher still.

Lovers of Wisdom are termed philosophi:

Then who is a Philosopher so rightly as I?

For in loving of wisdom, proof does this try,

{10} That Frustra sapit, qui non sapit sibi:

I am wise for myself. Then tell me of truth,

Is not that great Wisdom as the world goes?

Some Philosophers in the street go ragged and torn,

And feed on vile roots, whom boys laugh to scorn,

{15} But I in fine silks haunt Dionysius’ palace,

Wherein with dainty fare myself I do solace.

I can talk of Philosophy as well as the best,

But the straight kind of life I leave to the rest,

And I profess now the Courtly Philosophy:

{20}To crouch, to speak fair, myself I apply,

To feed the King’s humour with pleasant devises.

For which I am called Regius Canis:

But who is he who named me first the King’s Dog?

It was the Rogue Diogenes, that vile grunting Hog.

{25} Let him roll in his Tub to win a vain praise:

In the Court pleasantly I will spend all my days.

Wherein what to do, I am not to learn,

What will serve mine own turn I can quickly discern.

All my time at School I have not spent vainly:

{30} I can help one. Is not that a good point of Philosophy?

Here enters Carisophus.

CARISOPHUS.

I beshrew your fine ears, since you came from School,

In the court you have made many wise men a fool.

And though you paint out your fained Philosophy,

So God help me, it is but a plain kind of flattery

{35} Which you use so finely in so pleasant a sort,

That none but Aristippus, now makes the King’s sport.

Before you came hither, poor I was somebody:

The King delighted in me. Now I am but a nobody.

ARISTIPPUS.

{40} In faith Carisophus, you know yourself best,

But I will not call you ‘nobody’ but only in jest.

And thus I assure you, though I came from school,

To serve in this Court, I came not yet to be the King’s fool,

Or to fill his ears with servile scurrility.

{45} That office is yours, you know it right perfectly:

Of Parasites and Sicophants you are a grave bencher,

The King feeds you often from his own trencher.

I envy not your state, nor yet your great favour:

Then grudge not at all if in my behaviour

{50} I make the King merry, with pleasant urbanity,

Whom I never abused to any man's injury.

CARISOPHUS.

By cock sir, yet in the Court you do best thrive,

For you get more in one day then I do in five.

ARISTIPPUS.

Why man in the Court, do you not see,

{55} Rewards given for virtue to every degree?

To reward the unworthy that world is done.

The Court is changed, a good thread has been spun

Of Dog’s wool heretofore, and why? Because it was liked,

And not for that it was best trimmed and picked.

{60} But now men’s ears are finer, such gross toys are not set by,

Therefore to a trimmer kind of mirth myself I apply,

Wherein though I please, it comes not of my desert,

But of the King’s favour.

CARISOPHUS.

It may so be, yet in your prosperity,

{65} Despise not an old courtier. Carisophus is he,

Which has long time fed Dionysius’ humour:

Diligently to please, still at hand, there was never rumor,

Spread in this town of any smale thing, but I

Brought it to the King in post by and by.

{70} Yet now I crave your friendship, which if I may attain,

Most sure and unfained friendship I promise you again:

So we two linked in friendship brother and brother,

Full well in the Court may help one another.

ARISTIPPUS.

{75} By Your Lady Carisophus, though you know not Philosophy,

Yet surely you are a better Courtier then I.

And yet I not so evil a courtier that will seem to despise

Such an old courtier as you so expert and so wyse.

But where as you crave mine and offer your friendship so willingly,

{80} With heart I give you thanks for this your great courtesy,

Assuring of friendship both with tooth and nail,

Whiles life lasts never to fail.

CARISOPHUS.

A thousand thanks I give you, oh friend Aristippus.

ARISTIPPUS.

Oh friend Carisophus.

CARISOPHUS.

{85} How joyful am I since I have to friend Aristippus now?

ARISTIPPUS.

None so glad of Carisophus’ friendship as I, I make God a vow.

I speak as I think, believe me.

CARISOPHUS.

Since we are now so friendly joined, it seems to me,

That one of us help each other in every degree.

{90} Prefer you my cause when you are in presence,

To further your matters to the King let me alone in your absence.

ARISTIPPUS.

Friend Carisophus, this shall be done as you would wish.

But I pray you tell me, thus much by the way,

Whither now from this place will you take your iourney?

CARISOPHUS.

{95} I will not dissemble, that were against Friendship.

I go into the City some knaves to nip,

For talk with their goods, to encrease the king’s treasure.

In such kind of service, I set my chief pleasure.

Farewell friend Aristippus now for a time. Exit.

ARISTIPPUS.

{100} Adieu friend Carisophus. In good faith now,

Of force I must laugh at this solemn vow.

Is Aristippus linked in friendship with Carisophus?

Quid cum tanto Asino, talis Philosophus?

They say, Morum similitudo consultat amicitias:

Then, how can this friendship between us two come to pass?

{105} We are as like in conditions, as Jack Fletcher and his bow.

I am brought up in learning, but he is a very dolt

As touching good Letters, but otherwise such a crafty knave.

If you seek a whole Region, his like you can not have:

A villain for his life, a varlet died in grain.

{110} You lose money by him if you sell him for one knave, for he serves two.

A flattering parasite, a Sicophant also,

A common accuser of men; to the good, an open foe.

Of half a word, he can make a legend of lies,

Which he will avouch with such tragical cries,

{115} As though all were true that comes out of his mouth,

Where indeed – to be hanged by and by –

He cannot tell one tale but twice he must lie.

He spares no man’s life to get the King’s favour,

In which kind of service he has got such a savour,

{120} That he will never leave. Methinks then that I

Have done very wisely to join in friendship with him, lest perhaps I

Coming in his way might be nipped – for such knaves in presence,

We see oftentimes put honest men to silence.

Yet I have played with his beard in knitting this knot:

{125} I promised frendship, but you love few words. I spake it, but I meant it not.

Who marks this friendship between us two,

Shall judge of the worldly friendship without any more ado.

It may be a right patron therof, but true friendship indeed,

Of nought but of virtue does truly proceed.

{130} But why do I now enter into philosophy,

Which do profess the fine kind of courtesy?

I will hence to the Court with all haste I may.

I think the king be stirring: it is now bright day.

To wait at a pinch still in sight I mean.

{135} For what, you ask? A new Broomsweep clean.

As to high honour I mind not to climb,

So I mean in the Court to lose no time.

Wherein happy man be his dole, I trust that I,

Shall not speed worst, and that very quickly. Exit.

[SCENE 2].

There enter Damon and Pithias dressed like Mariners.

DAMON.

O Neptune, immortal be your praise,

For that so safe from Greece we have passed the seas

To this noble City Siracuse, where we

The ancient reign of the Romans may see.

{5} Whose force Greece also heretofore has known;

Whose virtue, the shrill trump of fame so far has blown.

PITHIAS.

My Damon, of right high praise we ought to give

To Neptune and all the Gods, that we safely did arrive.

The Seas I think with contrary winds, never raged so.

{10} I am even yet so seasick that I faint as I go;

Therefore let us get some lodging quickly.

But where is Stephano?

Here enters Stephano.

STEPHANO.

Not far hence. A pox take these Maryner knaves!

Not one would help me to carry this stuff. Such drunken slaves

{15} I think be accursed of the Gods’ own mouths.

DAMON.

Stephano, leave your raging, and let us enter Siracuse.

We will provide lodging, and you shall be eased of your burden by and by.

STEPHANO.

Good master make haste, for I tell you plain,

This heavy burden puts poor Stephano to much pain.

PITHIAS.

{20} Come on your way. You shall be eased, and that anon. Exeunt omnes.

[SCENE 3].

Here enters Carisophus.

CARISOPHUS.

It is a true saying that often has been spoken:

The pitcher goes so long to the water, that he comes home broken.

My own proof this has taught me, for truly since I

In the City have used to walk very slyly,

{5} Not with one can I met, that will in talk join with me,

And to creep into men’s bosoms some talk for to snatch,

By which into one trip or other, I might trimly them catch

And so accuse them. Now not with one can I meet,

That will join in talk with me. I am shunned like a Devil in the street,

{10} My credit is cracked where I am known. But yet I hear say,

Certain strangers are arrived. They’d be a good prey.

If happily I might met with them, I fear not I,

But in talk I should trip them, and that very finely.

Which thing, I assure you, I do for mine own gain,

{15} Or else I would not plod thus up and down, I tell you plain.

Well, I will for a while to the Court to see

What Aristippus does. I would be loathed that in favour he should overrun me.

He is a subtle child, he flatters so finely, that I fear me,

He will lick all the fat from my lips, and so outweary me.

{20} Therefore I will not be long absent, but at hand,

That all his fine drifts I may understand. Exit. 

[SCENE 4].

Here enters Will and Jack.

WILL.

I wonder what my Master Aristippus means nowadays,

That he leaves Philosophy, and seeks to please

King Dionysius, with such merry toys.

In Dionysius’ Court now he only joys

{5} As trim a Courtier as the best:

Ready to answer, quick in taunts, pleasant to jest,

A lusty companion to devise with fine Dames,

Whose humour to feed, his wyly wit he frames.

JACK.

By cock as you say, your Master is a Minion.

{10} <By> foul coyl he keeps in this Court Aristippus alone.

<N>ow rules the coast with his pleasant devises,

That I fear he will put out of conceit my Master Carisophus.

WILL.

Fear not that Jack, for like brother and brother

They are knit in true friendship the one with the other.

{15} They are fellows you know, and honest men both:

Therefore the one to hinder the other, they will be loath.

JACK.

Yes, but I have heard say, there is falsehood in fellowship.

<I>n the Court sometimes, one gives another finely the slip,

Which when it is spied, it is laughed out with a scoff,

{20}<A>nd with sporting and playing, quietly shaken off:

In which kind of toying, your master has such a grace,

That he will never blush, he has a wooden face.

But Will, my master has bees in his head.

If he finds me here pratting, I am but dead.

{25} He is still trotting in the city, there is somewhat in the wind:

His looks betray his inward troubled mind.

Therefore I will be packing, to the Court go by and by.

If he be once angry, Jack shall cry woe the pie.

WILL.

By the Lady, if I tarry long here, of the same sauce shall I taste,

{30} For my master sent me on an errand, and bad me make haste.

Therefore we will depart together. Exeunt.

[SCENE 5].

Here enters Stephano.

STEPHANO.

Oftentimes I have heard, before I came hither,

That no man can serve two masters together:

A sentence so true, as most men do take it,

At any time false, that no man can make it.

{5} And yet by their leave, that first have it spoken,

How that may prove false, even here I will open.

For I Stephano, lo, so named by my father,

At this time serve two masters together,

And love them alike. The one and the other,

{10} I duely obey: I can do no other.

A bondman I am (so nature has wrought me),

One Damon of Greece, a gentleman bought me.

To him I stand bond, yet serve I another,

Whom Damon my Master loves, as his own brother:

{15} A Gentleman too, and Pithias he is named,

Fraught with virtue, whom vice never defamed.

These two, since at school they fell acquainted,

In mutual friendship, at no time have fainted,

But loved so kindly, and friendly each other,

{20} As though they were brothers by father and mother.

Pithagoras’ learning these two have embraced,

Which both are in friendship so narrowly laced,

That all their whole doings do fall to this issue,

To have no respect, but only to virtue.

{25} All one in effect: all one in their going,

All one in their study, all one in their doing.

These Gentlemen both, being of one condition,

Both alike of my service have all the fruition.

Pithias is joyful, if Damon is pleased;

{30} If Pithias is served, then Damon is eased.

Serve one, serve both: so near, who would win them?

I think they have but one heart between them.

In travelling countries, we three have contrived,

Full many a year, and this day arrived

{35} At Siracuse in Sicilia, that ancient town,

Where my masters are lodged. And I up and down,

Go seeking to learn what News here are walking,

To hark of what things the people are talking.

I like not this soil: for as I go plodding,

{40} I mark there two, there three, their heads always nodding,

In close secret wise, still whispering together.

If I ask any question, no man does answer,

But shaking their heads, they go their ways speaking.

I mark how with tears, their wet eyes are leaking:

{45} Some strangeness there is, that breeds this musing.

Well, I will to my Masters, and tell of their using,

That they may learn, and walk wisely together.

I fear, we shall curse the time we came hither. Exit. 

[SCENE 6].

Here enter Aristippus and Will.

ARISTIPPUS.

Will, did you hear the Ladies so talk of me?

What ails them? From their nips shall I never be free?

WILL.

Good faith sir, all the Ladies in the Court do plainly report,

That without mention of them, you can make no sport.

{5} They are your plain song to sing descant upon;

If they wear not, your mirth were gone.

Therefore master, jest no more with women in any wise;

If you do, by cock you are like to know the price.

ARISTIPPUS.

By your lady Will, this is good counsel. Plainly to jest

{15} Of women, proof has taught me it is not best.

I will change my copy, how be it. I care not a quinch.

I know the galled horse will soonest winch.

But learn you secretly what prively they talk

Of me in the Court, among them slyly walk,

{20} And bring me true news thereof.

WILL.

I will sir master. Thereof have no doubt, for I

Where they talk of you, will inform you perfectly.

ARISTIPPUS. 

Do so my boy. If you bring it finely to pass,

For your good service, you shall go in thine old coat at Christmas. Exeunt.  

[SCENE 7].

Enter Damon, Pithias, Stephano.

DAMON.
Stephano, is all this true that you has told me?

STEPHANO.

Sir, for lies, hitherto you never controlled me.

Oh that we had never set foot on this land,

Where Dionysius reigns with so bloody a hand.

{5} Every day he shows some token of cruelty,

With blood he has filled all the streets in the City.

I tremble to hear the people murmuring,

I lament, to see his most cruel dealing:

I think there is no such tyrant under the sun.

{10} O my dear masters, this morning what has he done?

DAMON.

What is that? Tell us quickly.

STEPHANO.

As I this morning passed in the street,

with a woeful man (going to his death) did I met.

Many people followed, and I of one secretly

{15} Asked the cause why he was condemned to die.

He whispered in mine ear, nought has he done but thus:

In his sleep he dreamed he had killed Dionysius.

Which dream told abroad was brought to the king in post,

By whom condemned for suspicion, his life he has lost.

{20} Marcia was his name as the people said.

PITHIAS.

My dear friend Damon, I blame not Stephano

For wishing we had not come hither, seeing it is so

That for so small cause, such cruel death does ensue.

DAMON.

My Pithias, where tyrants reign, such cases are not new,

{25} Which fearing their own state for great cruelty,

To sit fast as they think, do execute speedily.

All such as any light suspicion have tainted.

STEPHANO.

With such quick carvers, I list not be acquainted.

DAMON.

So are they never in quiet, but in suspicion still:

{30} When one is made away, they take occasion another to kill.

Ever in fear, having no trusty friend, void of all people’s love,

And in their own conscience, a continual Hell they prove.

PITHIAS.

As things by their contraries are always best proved,

How happy are then mercifull princes of their people beloved?

{35} Having sure friends everywhere, no fear does touch them,

They may safely spend the day pleasantly, at night secure dormiunt in utramque aurem.

Oh my Damon, if choice were offered me, I would chose to be Pithias

As I am, Damon’s friend, rather than to be king Dionysius.

STEPHANO.

And good cause why: for you are entirerly beloved of one,

{40} And as far as I hear, Dionysius is beloved of none.

DAMON.

That state is most miserable. Thrice happy are we,

Whom true love has joined in perfect amity.

Which amity first sprong, without vaunting be it spoken, that is true

Of likeliness of manners, took root by company, and now is conserved by virtue.

{45} Which virtue, always through worldly things do not frame,

Yet does she achieve to her followers immortal fame;

Whereof if men were careful, for Virtue’s sake only

They would honour friendship, and not for commodity.

But such as for profit in friendship do link,

{50} When storms come, they slide away sooner then a man will think.

My Pithias, the sum of my talk falls to this issue,

To prove no friendship is sure, but that which is grounded on virtue.

PITHIAS.

My Damon, of this thing, there needs no proof to me.

The Gods forbid, but that Pithias with Damon in all things should agree.

{55} For why it is said, Amicus alter ipse,

But that tr<ue> friends should be two in body but one in mind,

As it w<er>e one transformed into another, which again<st kind>

Though it seem. Yet in good faith, when I am alone,

I forget I am Pithias, methinks I am Damon.

STEP<HA>NO.

{60} That could I never <do,> to forget myself. Full well I know,

Wheresoever I go, that I am Pauper Stephano.

But I pray you sir, for all your Philosophy,

See that in this Court you walk very wisely.

You are but newly come hither: being strangers you know,

{65} Many eyes are bent on you in the streets as you go.

Many spies are abroad, you can not be too circumspect.

DAMON.

Stephano, because you are careful of me your master, I do you praise.

Yet think this for a surety, no state to displease

By talk or otherwise, my friend and I intend. We will here

{70} As men that come to see the soil and manners of all men of every degree.

Pithagoras said, that this world was like a stage,

Whereon many play their parts; the lookers on the stage

Philosophers are said he, whose part is to learn

The manners of all Nations, and the good from the bad to discern.

STEPHANO.

{75} Good faith sir, concerning the people they are not gay,

And as far as I see, they be mummers, for nought they say.

For the most part whatsoever you ask them,

The soil is such, that to live here I can not like.

DAMON.

You speak according to your learning, but I say,

{80} Omnis solum fortis patria, a wise man may live everywhere.

Therefore my dear friend Pithias,

Let us view this town in every place,

And then consider the people’s manners also.

PITHIAS.

As you will my Damon. But how say you Stephano?

{85} Is it not best, before we go further, to take some repass?

STEPHANO.

In faith, I like well this question, sir. For all your haste,

To eat somewhat I pray you. Think it no folly:

It is high dinner time, I know by my belly.

DAMON.

Then let us to our lodging depart. When dinner is done,

{90} We will view this City as we have begun. Exeunt. 

[SCENE 8].

Here enters Carisophus.

CARISOPHUS.

Once again in hope of good wind, I hoist up my sail,

I go into the City to find some pray for mine avail.

I hunger while I may see these strangers, that lately

Arrived. I’d be safe if once I might met them happily,

{5} Let them barke that lust, at this kind of gain.

He is a fool that for his profit will not take pain.

Though it be joined with other men’s hurt, I care not at all,

For profit I will accuse any man, happen what shall.

But soft sirs, I pray you by. What are they that comes here?

{10} By their apparel, and contenance some strangers they appear.

I will shrow myself secretly, even here for a while,

To hear all their talk that I may them beguile.

Here enter Damon and Stephano.

STEPHANO.

A short horse soon curried, my belly waxes thinner:

I am as hungry now as when I went to dinner.

{15} Your philosophical diet is so fine and small,

That you may eat your dinner and supper at once, and not surfeit at all.

DAMON.

Stephano, much meat breeds heaviness, thin diet makes you light.

STEPHANO.

I may be lighter thereby, but I shall never run faster.

DAMON.

I have had sufficiently discourse of amity,

{15} Which I had at dinner with Pithias and his pleasant company,

Has fully satisfied me. It does me good to feed mine eyes on him.

STEPHANO.

Course or discourse, your course is very course for all your talk.

You had but one bare course, and that was pike, rise and walk,

And surely for all your talk of Philosophy,

{20} I never heard that a man with words could fill his belly.

Feed your eyes (quoth you) the reason from my wisdom swerves,

I stared on you both, and yet my belly starves.

DAMON.

Ah Stephano, small diet makes a fine memory.

STEPHANO.

I care not for your crafty sophistry:

{25} You two are fine, let me be fed like a gross knave still.

I pray you licence me for a while to have my will:

At home to tarry whiles you take vew of this City.

To find some odd victuals in a corner, I am very witty.

DAMON.

At your pleasure sir. I will wait on myself this day.

{30} Yet attend upon Pithias, which for a purpose tarries at home,

So doing, you wait upon me also.

STEPHANO.

With wings on my feet I go. Exit.

DAMON.

Not in vain the poet says Natura furca expellas, tamen usque recurrit.

For train up a bondman never to so good a behaviour,

{35} Yet in some point of servility, he will savour.

As this Stephano, trusty to me his master, loving and kind,

Yet touching his belly, a very bondman and him find.

He is to be born withall, being so just and true,

I assure you, I would not change him for no new.

{40} But methinks, this is a pleasant City.

The seat is good, and yet not strong, and that is great pity.

CARISOPHUS.

I am safe, he is mine own.

DAMON.

The air is subtle and fine, the people should be witty

That dwell under this Climate in so pure a Region.

{45} A trimmer plot I have not seen in my peregrination:

Nothing mislikes me in this country,

But that I hear such thing of cruelty.

Fame reports strange things of Dionysius,

But king’s matters passing our reach, pertain not to us.

CARISOPHUS.

{50} Dionysius (quoth you) since the world began,

In Sicilia never reigned so cruel a man.

A despightful tyrant to all men, I marvel I,

That none makes him away, and that suddenly.

DAMON.

My friend, the Gods forbid so cruel a thing,

{55} That any man should lift up his sword against the king,

Or seek other means by death him to prevent,

Whom to rule on earth, the mighty Gods have sent.

But my friend, leave off this talk of king Dionysius.

CARISOPHUS.

Why sir? He can not hear us.

DAMON.

{60} What then? An nescis longas Regibus esse manus?

It is no safe talking of them that strykes a far off.

But leaving king’s matters, I pray you show me this courtesy

To describe in few words the state of this City.

A traveller I am, desirous to know

{65} The state of each country, wherever I go,

Not to the hurt of any state, but to get experience thereby.

It is not for nought that the poet does cry

Dic mihi Musa virum, captae post tempore Troyae,

Multorum hominum mores qui vidit and vrbis.

{70} In which verses, as some writers do scan,

The poet describes a perfect wise man.

Even so I, being a stranger, addicted to Philosophy,

To see the state of countries, myself I apply.

CARISOPHUS.

Sir, I like this intent, but may I ask your name without scorn?

DAMON.

{75} My name is Damon, well known in my country, a Gentleman born.

CARISOPHUS.

You do wisely to search the state of each country,

To bear intelligence thereof whither you lust. [(aside)] He is a spy.

Sir, I pray you, have patience awhile, for I have to do here by,

View this weak part of this City as you stand, and I very quickly

{80} Will return to you again, and then will I show

The state of all this country, and of the court also. Exit.

DAMON.

I thank you for your courtesy. This chances well that I

Met with this Gentleman so happily,

Which as it seems, mislikes some thing,

{85} Else he would not talk so boldly of the king,

And that to a stranger. But lo where he comes in haste.

Here enters Carisophus and Snap.

CARISOPHUS.

This is he, fellow Snap. Snap him up: away with him.

SNAP.

Good fellow, you must go with me to the Court.

DAMON.

To the Court, sir? And why?

CARISOPHUS.

{90} Well, we will dispute that before the king. Away with him quickly.

DAMON.

Is this the courtesy you promised me? And that very lately?

CARISOPHUS.
Away with him I say.

DAMON.

Use no violence, I will go with you quietly. Exeunt omnes.

[SCENE 9].

Here enters Aristippus.

ARISTIPPUS.

Ah sir, by the Lady, Aristippus likes Dionysius’ Court very well,

<W>hich in passing joys and pleasures does excel,

<W>here he has dapsilae caenae, gemalis lectes, and auro

<ful>gentem tyranni zonam.

{5} <I ha>ve plied the harvest, and stroke when the iron was hot,

<W>hen I spied my time, I was not squeamish to crave, God wot,

<Bu>t with some pleasant toy, I crept into the King’s bosom.

<For> which, Dionysius gave me Auri talentum magnum,

<A l>arge reward, for so simple services.

{10} <W>hat then? The King’s praise stands chiefly in bountifulness,

<W>hich thing, though I tolde the king very pleasantly,

<Ye>t can I prove it by good writers of great Antiquity.

<Bu>t that shall not need at this time, since that I have aboundantly,

<Wh>en I lack hereafter, I will use this point of Philosophy.

{15} <Bu>t now, where as I have felt the king’s liberality,

<As> princely as it came, I will spend it as regally.

<Mo>ney is currant men say, and currant comes of currendo:

<Th>en will I make money run, as his nature requires I trow.

<For> what becomes a Philosopher best,

{20} <Bu>t to despise mony above the rest,

<And> yet not so despise it, but to have in store

<En>ough to serve his own tourn, and somewhat more.

<Wi>th sondry sports and taunts, yesternight I delighted the king,

<Th>at with his loud laugheder, the whole court did ring,

{25} <And> I thought he laughed not merrier then I, when I got this money.

<But> mumbudget, for Carisophus I spy,

<In h>aste to come hither. I must handle the knave finely.

<Oh> Carisophus, my dearest friend, my trusty companion,

<Wh>at news with you? Where have you heen so long?

Here enters Carisophus.

CARISOPHUS.

{30} My best beloved friend Aristippus, I am come at last.

<I ha>ve not spent all my time in waste:

<I ha>ve got a pray, and that a good one I trew.

ARISTIPPUS.

What pray is that? Fain would I know.

CARISOPHUS.

<Su>ch a crafty spy I have caught, I dare say,

{35} As never was in Sicily, before this day.

Such a one as viewed every weak place in the City,

Surviewed the haven, and each bulwark, in talk very witty,

And yet by some words, himself he did betray.

ARISTIPPUS.

I think so in good faith, as you did handle him.

CARISOPHUS.

{40} I handled him clerkly. I joined in talk with him courteously,

But when we were entered, I let him speak his will, and I

Sucked out thus much of his words, that I made him say plainly.

He was come hither to know the state of the City,

And not only this, but that he would understand

{45} The state of Dionysius’ court and of the whole land.

Which words when I heard, I desired him to stay,

Till I had done a little business of the way,

Promising him to return again quickly. And so did convey

Myself to the court for Snap the tipstaff, which came and upsnatched him,

{50} Brought him to the Court and in the porters’ lodge dispatched him.

After I ran to Dionysius as fast as I could,

And bewrayed this matter to him which I have you told.

Which thing when he heard, being very merry before,

He suddenly fell in a dump, and foaming like a boar,

{55} At last he swore in a great rage that he should die,

By the sword or the wheel, and that very shortly.

I am too shamefast for my travel and toyl,

I crave nothing of Dionysius but only his spoil.

Little has he about him, but a few moth-eaten crowns of gold

{60} I pouched them up already, they are sure in hold,

And now I go in to the City to say sooth,

To see what he has at his lodging to make up my mouth.

ARISTIPPUS.

My Carisophus, you have done good service. But what is the spy?

CARISOPHUS.

He is called Damon, borne in Greece, from whence lately he came.

ARISTIPPUS.

{65} By my truth, I will go see him and speak with him too if I may.

CARISOPHUS.

Do so I pray you, but yet by the way,

As occasion serves, commend my service to the King.

ARISTIPPUS.

Dictum sapienti satest. Friend Carisophus, shall I forget that thing?

No, I warrant you, though I say little to your face,

{70} <I> will lay one month for you to Dionysius when I am in place.

<If> I speak one word for such a knave, hang me. Exit.

CARISOPHUS.

<O>ur fine Philosopher, our time-learned self,

<Is> gone to see as false a spy as himself.

<D>amon’s matters as well as he of crafty philosophy,

{75} <A>nd can turn Cat in the panne very prettily,

<B>ut Carisophus has given him such a mighty check,

<A>s I think in the end will breake his neck.

<W>hat care I for that, why would he then pry,

<An>d learn the secret estate of our country and City?

{80} <He> is but a stranger. By his fall let others be wise,

<I> care not who fall, so that I may rise.

<As> for fine Aristippus, I will keep in with him,

<He> is a shrewd fool to deal withal – he can swim:

<An>d yet by my truth, to speak my conscience plainly,

{85} <I> will use his friendship to mine own commodity.

<W>hile Dionysius favoures him, Aristippus shall be mine,

<B>ut if the king once trows on him, then good night Tomaline.

<H>e shall be as strange, as though I never saw him before,

<B>ut I tarry too long, I will prate no more.

{90} <Ja>ck, come away.

JACK.

At hand sir.

CARISOPHUS.

At Damon’s lodging. If that you see,

<A>ny store to arise, be still at hand by me,

<R>ather then. I will lose the spoil, I will blade it out. Exeunt. 

[SCENE 10].

Here enters Pithias and Stephano.

PITHIAS.

What strange news are these, oh my Stephano?

<I>s my Damon in Prison, as the voice does go?

STEPHANO.

It is true. Oh cruel hap, he is taken for a spy,

<A>nd as they say, by Dionysius’ own mouth condemned to die.

PITHIAS.

{5} To die? Alas to: what cause?

STEPHANO.

A Sicophant falsely accused him, other cause there is none.

<T>hat oh Iupiter, of all wrongs the revenger,

<S>ee you this injustice, and will you stay any longer

<F>rom heaven to send down your hot-consuming fire

{10} To destroy the workers of wrong, which provoke your just ire?

Alas master Pithias, what shall we do,

Being in a strange country, void of friends and acquaintance too?

Ah poor Stephano, have you lived to see this day?

To see your true master unjustly made away?

PITHIAS.

{15} Stephano, seeing the matter is come to this extremity,

Let us make virtue our friend of mere necessity.

Run you to the Court and understand secretly,

As much as you can, of Damon’s cause, and I

Will make some means to entreat Aristippus.

{20} He can do much as I hear with king Dionysius.

STEPHANO.

I am gone sir. Ah, I would to God, my travel and pain

Might restore my master to his liberty again. Exit.

PITHIAS.

Ah woefull Pithias, since now I am alone,

What way shall I first begin to make my moan?

{25} What words shall I find apt for my complain?

Damon my friend, my joy, my life is in peril: of force I must now fain.

But oh Music, as in joyful tunes your merry notes I did borrow,

So now lend me your yearnful tunes, to utter my sorrow.

Here Pithias sings, and the Regals play.

[PITHIAS].

Awake you woeful wights,

{30}  That long have wept in woe:

Resign to me your plaints and tears,

My hapless hap to show.

My woe no tongue can tell,

No pen can well describe.

{35}  O, what a death is this to hear,

Damon my friend must die.

The loss of worldly wealth,

Man’s wisdom may restore,

And phisyc has provided too

{40}  A salve for every sore:

But my true friend once lost,

No art can well supply.

Then, what a death is this to hear?

Damon my friend must die.

{45}  My mouth refuse the food,

That should my limbs sustain.

Let sorrow sink into my breast,

And runsack every vein.

You Furies all at once

{50}  On me your torments try:

Why should I live, since that I hear

Damon my friend should die?

Gripe me you greedy grieves,

And present pangs of death.

{55}  You Sisters three, with cruel hands,

with speed now stop my breath:

Shrine me in clay alive,

Some good man stop mine eye.

Oh death come now, seeing I hear,

{60}  Damon my friend must die.

He speaks this after the song.

In vain I call for Death, which hears not my complaint.

But what wisdom is this, in such extremity to faint?

Multum iuva in re mala animus bonus.

I will to the Court myself to make friends, and that presently.

{65}  I will never forsake my friend in time of misery.

But do I see Stephano amazed hither to run?

Here enters Stephano.

STEPHANO.

O Pithias, Pithias, we are all undone.

Mine own ears have sucked in mine own sorrow.

I heard Dionysius swear, that Damon should die tomorrow.

PITHIAS.

{70}  How came you so near the presence of the king,

That you mightest hear Dionysius speak this thing?

STEPHANO.

By friendship I got into the Court, where in great audience

I heard Dionysius with his own mouth give this cruel sentence

By these express words: that Damon the Greek that crafty spy,

{75}  Without farther judgement, tomorrow should die.

Believe me Pithias, with these ears I heard it myself.

PITHIAS.

Then how near is my death also, ah woe is me.

Ah my Damon, another myself, shall I forgo you?

STEPHANO.

Sir, there is no time of lamenting now. It becomes us

{80}  To make means to them which can did much with Dionysius.

That he be not made awaye before his cause be fully heard, for we see

By evil report, things be made to princes far worse then they be.

But lo, yonder comes Aristippus, in great favour with king Dionysius.

Entreat him to speak a good word to the king for us,

{85}  And in the mean season, I will to your lodging, to see all things safe there. Exit.

PITHIAS.

To that I agree, but let us slip aside his talk to hear.

Here enters Aristippus.

ARISTIPPUS.

Here is a sudden change indeed, a strange Metamorphosis.

This Court is clean altered, who would have thought this?

Dionysius of late so pleasant and merry,

{90}  Is quite changed now into such melancholy,

That nothing can please him. He walked up and down,

Fretting and chasing, on every man he does frown,

In so much that when I in pleasant words began to play,

So sternly he frowned on me, and knit me up so short,

{95}  I perceived it is no safe playing with Lions. But when it please them,

If you claw where it itches not, you shall disease them,

And so perhaps get a clap. Mine own proof taught me this,

That it is very good to be merry and wise.

The only cause of this hurly burly is Carisophus, that wicked man,

{100}  Which lately took Damon for a spy, a poor Gentleman,

And has incensed the king against him so despightfully,

That Dionysius has judged him tomorrow to die.

I have talked with Damon, whom though in words I found very witty,

Yet was he more curious then wise in viewing this City.

{105}  But truly for ought I can learn, there is no cause why

So suddenly and cruelly, he should be condemned to die.

Howsoever it be, this is the short and long,

I dare not gainsay the king, be it right or wrong.

I am sorry, and that is all I may or can do in this case.

{110} Nought availes persuasion, where forward opinion takes place.

PITHIAS.

Sir, if humble suits you would not despise,

Then bow on me your pitifull eyes.

My name is Pithias, in Greece well known,

A perfect friend to that woefull Damon,

{115}  Which now a poor captive in this court does lie,

By the king’s own mouth as I here, condemned to die.

For whom I crave your mastership’s goodness,

To stand his friend in this his great distress.

Nought has he done worthy of Death, but very fondly,

{120}  Being a stranger, he viewed this City,

For no evil practises, but to feed his eyes.

But seeing Dionysius is informed otherwise,

My suit is to you, when you see time and place,

To assuage the King’s anger, and to purchase his grace.

{125}  In which doing, you shall not do good to one only,

But you shall further too, and that fully.

ARISTIPPUS.

My friend, in this case I can do you no pleasure.

PITHIAS.

Sir, you serve in the Court as Fame does tell.

ARISTIPPUS.

I am of the Court indeed, but none of the Counsel.

PITHIAS.

{125} As I hear, none is in greater favour with the King then you at this day.

ARISTIPPUS.    

The more in favour, the less I dare say.

PITHIAS.

It is a Courtier’s praise to help strangers in misery.

ARISTIPPUS.

To help another and hurt myself, it is an evil point of courtesy.

PITHIAS.

You shall not hurt yourself to speak for the innocent.

ARISTIPPUS.

{130} He is not innocent, whom the king judges nocent.

PITHIAS.

Why sir? Do you think this matter past all remedy?

ARISTIPPUS.

So far past that Dionysius has sworn Damon tomorrow shall die.

PITHIAS.

This word my trembling heart cuts in two.

Ah sir, in this woefull case, what wist I best to do?

ARISTIPPUS.

{135} Best to content yourself, when there is no remedy.

He is well relieved that for knows his misery.

Yet if any comfort be, it rests in Eubulus,

The chiefest counsellor about king Dionysius,

Which pities Damon’s case in this great extremity,

{140} Persuading the king from all kind of cruelty.

PITHIAS.

The mighty Gods preserve you for this word of comfort.

Taking my leave of your goodness, I will now resort

To Eubulus that good Counsellor.

But hark, methinks I hear a trumpet blow.

ARISTIPPUS.

{145} The king is at hand. Stand close in the prease, beware. If he knows

You are friend to Damon, he will take you for a spy also.

Farewell, I dare not be seen with you. Exit.

Here enters King Dionysius, Eubulus the Counselor, and Gronno the Hangman.

DIONYSIUS.

Gronno, do my commandment: strike off Damon’s Icons by and by,

Then bring him foorth. I myself will see him executed presently.

GRONNO.

{150} O mighty king, your commandment will I do presently. Exit.

DIONYSIUS.

Eubulus, you has talked in vain, for sure he shall die.

Shall I suffer my life to stand in peril of every spy?

EUBULUS.
That he conspired against your person, his accuser can not say.

He only viewed your City, and will you for that make him away.

DIONYSIUS.

{155} What he would have done, the guess is great. He minded me to hurt

That came so slyly to search out the secret estate of my Court.

Shall I still live in fear? No, no: I will cut off such imp’ betime,

Least that to my further danger, too high they climb.

EUBULUS.

Yet have the mighty Gods immortal Fame assigned

{160} To all worldly Princes, which in mercy be inclined.

DIONYSIUS.

Let Fame talk what she list, so I may live in safety.

EUBULUS.

The only mean to that is to use mercy.

DIONYSIUS.

A mild prince the people despises.

EUBULUS.

A cruel king the people hates.

DIONYSIUS.

{165} Let them hate me, so they fear me.

EUBULUS.

That is not the way to live in safety.

DIONYSIUS.

My sword and power shall purchase my quietness.

EUBULUS.

That is sooner procured by mercy and gentilness.

DIONYSIUS.

Dionysius ought to be feared.

EUBULUS.

{170} Better for him to be well beloved.

DIONYSIUS.

Fortune makes all things subject to my power.

EUBULUS.

Believe her not: she is a light Goddess, she can laugh and lower.

DIONYSIUS.

A King’s praise stands in the revenging of his enemy.

EUBVLUS.

A greater praise to win him by clemency.

DYONYS.

{175} To suffer the wicked live, it is no mercy.

EUBULUS.

To kill the innocent, it is great cruelty.

DYONISYUS.

Is Damon innocent, which so craftly underminded Carisophus,

<To> understand what he could of king Dionysius?

<W>hich surveyed the haven and each bulwark in the City,

{180} Where battery might be laid, what way best to approach? Shall I

<Su>ffer such a one to live, that works me such despight?

<No>, he shall die, then I am safe. A dead dog can not bite.

EUBULUS.

But yet, O mighty, my duty beends me,

<To> give such counsell as with your honour may best agree.

{185} <Th>e strongest pillars of princely dignity,

<I fi>nd this justice, with mercy and prudent liberality.

<Th>e one judges all things by upright equity,

<Th>e other rewards the worthy, flying each extremity.

<As> to spare those, which offend maliciously,

{190}<It> may be called no justice, but extreme injury,

<So> upon suspicion, of each things not well proved,

<To> put to death presently whom envious flattery accused.

<It> seems of tiranny, and upon what fickle ground all tyrants do stand

<Ath>ens and Lacedemon can teach you if it be rightly scanned.

{195} <An>d not only these citizens, but who curiously seeks,

<Th>e whole histories of all the world, not only of Romans and Greeks

Shall well perceive of all tyrants the ruinous fall,

Their state uncertain, beloved of none, but hated of all.

{200} Of merciful princes to set out the passyng felicity

I need not: enough of that, even these days do testify.

They live devoid of fear, their sleeps are sound, they dread no enemy.

They are feared and loved, and why? They rule with Justice and mercy,

Extending Justice to such, as wickedly from Justice have swerved,

{205} Mercy unto those, where opinion, simpleness have mercy deserved.

Of liberty nought I say, but only this thing:

Liberty upholds the state of a king,

Whose large bountifulness ought to fall to this issue,

To reward none, but such as deserve it for virtue.

{210} Which merciful Justice, if you would follow, and provident liberality

Neither the caterpillers of all Courts, et fruges consumere nati,

Parasites with wealth puffed up, should not look so high,

Nor yet for this simple fact poor Damon should die.

DIONYSIUS.

With pain mine ears have heard this vain talk of mercy.

{215} I tell you, fear and terrour, defends kings only.

‘Till he be gone whom I suspect, how shall I live quietly?

Whose memorie with chilling horror, fills my breast day and night violently.

My dreadful dreams of him bereaves my rest: on bed I lie

Shaking and trembling, as one ready to yield his throat to Damon’s sword.

{220} This quaking dread, nothing but Damon’s blood can stay.

Better he die, then I to be tormented with fear always:

He shall die, though Eubulus consent not thereto.

It is lawful for kings as they list all things to do.

Here Gronno brings in Damon, and Pithias meets him by the way.

PITHIAS.
Oh my Damon.

DAMON.
{225} Oh my Pithias, seeing Death must part us, farewell forever.

PITHIAS.

Oh Damon, oh my swete friend.

SNAP.

Away from the Prisoner! What a press have we here.

GRONNO.

As you commanded, o mighty King, we have brought Damon.

DIONYSIUS.

{230} Then go to, make ready. I will not stir out of this place,

Til I see his head stroken off before my face.

GRONNO.

It shall be done sir. Because your eyes have made such ado,

I will knock down this your Lantern, and shut up your shop window too.

DAMON.

O mighty king, whereas no truth my innocent life can save,

{235} But that so greedily you thrust, my guiltless blood to have

[–] <A>lbeit, (even for thought) for ought against your person [–]

<Y>et now I plead not for life, nor will I crave your pardon.

<B>ut seeing in Greece my country, where well I am known,

<I> have worldly things, fit for mine alliance when I am gone,

{240} <T>o dispose them or I die, if I might obtain leasure,

<I> would account it (o kyng) for a passing great pleasure –

<N>ot to prolong my life thereby, for which I reckon not this,

<B>ut to set my things in a stay. And surely I will not miss,

<U>pon the faith which all gentlemen ought to embrace,

{245}<T>o returne again at your time to appoint, to yield my body herein this place.

<G>rant me (o King), such time to dispatch this injury,

<A>nd I will not fail, when you appointed, even here my life to pay.

DIONYSIUS.

A pleasant request, as though I could trust him absent,

<W>hom in no wise I can not trust being present.

{250}<A>nd yet though I swore the contrary, do that I require,

<G>ive me a pledge for your return, and have thine own desire:

<H>e is as near now as he was before.

DAMON.

Ther is no surer nor greater pledge, than the faith of a Gentleman.

DIONYSIUS.

It was wont to be, but otherwise now the world does stand.

{255}<T>herefore do as I say, else presently yield your neck to the sword.

I might with mine honour I would recall my word.

PITHIAS.

Stand to your word, o King, for Kings ought nothing say,

<B>ut that they would perform, in perfect deed always.

<A p>ledge you did require, when Damon his suit did move,

{260}<Fo>r which, with heart and stretched hands, most humble thanks I give.

<An>d that you may not say, but Damon has a friend,

<Th>at loves him better then his own life, and will do to his end,

<Ta>ke me, oh mighty King. My life I pawne for his:

<S>trike off my head, if Damon happens at his day to miss.

DIONYSIUS.

{265}What are you, that charge me with my word so boldly here?

PITHIAS.

I am Pithias, a Greek borne, which holds Damon my friend full dear.

DIONYSIUS.

Too dear, perhaps. To hazard your life for him, what fondness moves you?

PITHIAS.

No fondness at all, but perfect amity.

DIONYSIUS.

A mad kind of amity! Advise yourself well: if Damon fail at his day

{270}Which shall be justly appointed, will you die for him, to me his life to pay?

PITHIAS.

Most willyngly, o mighty kyng: if Damon fail, let Pithias die.

DIONYSIUS.

You seem to trust his words, that pawn your life so frankly.

PITHIAS.

What Damon says, Pithias believes assuredly.

DYONYSIUS.

Take heed, for life: worldly men breake promise in many things.

PITHIAS.

{275}Though worldly men do so, it never happes amongst friends.

DIONYSIUS.

What call you friends, are they not men? Is not this true?

PITHIAS

Men they be, but such men as love one another only for virtue.

DIONISIUS.

For what virtue, do you love this spy, this Damon?

PITHIAS.

For that virtue, which yet to you is unknown.

DYONYSIUS.

{280}Eubulus, what shall I do? I would dispatch this Damon fain,

But this foolish fellow so charges me, that I may not call back my word again.

EUBULUS.

The reverent majesty of a King, stands chiefly in keeping his promise.

What you have said, this whole court bears witness:

Save your honour whatsoever you do.

DIONYSIUS.

{285}For saving mine honour, I must forbear my will. Go to,

Pithias, seeing you took me at my word, take Damon to you.

For two months he is yours. Unbeend him, I set him free.

Which time once expired, if he appears not the next day by noon,

Without further delay, you shall lose your life, and that full soon.

{290}Whether he dies by the way, or lie sick in his bed,

If he return not then, you shall either hang or lose your head.

PITHIAS.

For this o mighty king, I yield immortal thanks. O joyfull day!

DYONYSIUS.

Gronno, take him to you, beend him, see him kept in safety.

<I>f he escapes assure yourself, for him you shall die.

{295}<E>ubulus, let us depart, to talk of this strange thing within.

EVBULUS.

I follow. Exeunt.

GRONNO.

Damon, you served the Gods well today, be you of comfort.

<A>s for you sir, I think you will be hanged in sport.

<Y>ou heard what the King said? I must keep you safely.

{300}By cock so I will, you shall rather hange then I.

Come on your way,

PITHIAS.

My Damon, farewell. The Gods have you in kepeing.

DAMON.

Oh my Pithias, my pledge farewell. I part from you weeping

But joyfull. At my day appointed I will return again,

{305}When I will deliver you from all trouble and pain.

Stephano will I leave leave behind me to wait upon you in prison alone,

And I whom fortune has reserved to this misery, will walk home.

Ah my Pithias, my pledge, my life, my friend, farewell.

PITHIAS.

Farewell my Damon.

DAMON.

{310}Loth I am to depart, since sobs my trembling tongue do stay.

Oh Music, sound my doleful plaints when I am gone my way. Exit.

GRONNO.

I am glad he is gone, I had almost wept too. Come, Pithias.

So God help me, I am sorry for your foolish case:

Will you venture your life for a man, so fondly?

PITHIAS.

{315}It is no venture: my friend is just, for whom I desire to die.

GRONNO.

Here is a mad man I tell you. I have a wife whom I love well,

And if I would die for her, should I be in Hell.

Will you do more for a man, then I would for a woman?

PITHIAS.

Yes, that I will.

GRONNO.

{320}Then come on your ways, you must to Prison in haste.

<I fear you shall> repent this folly at laste.

PITHIAS.

That shall you never see. But oh Music, as my Damon requested you,

Sound out your dolfull tunes, in this time of calamity. Exeunt.

[SCENE 11].

Here the Regals play a mourning song, and Damon comes in, in Mariner’s apparel, and Stephano with him.

DAMON.

Weep no more Stephano, this is but destiny.

Had not this happened, yet I know I am born to die.

Where or in what place, the Gods know alone,

To whose judgement myself I commit. Therefore leave of your moan,

{5} And wait upon Pithias in prison, till I return again,

In whom my joy, my care and life does only remain.

STEPHANO.

Oh my dear master, let me go with you, for my poor companie,

Shall be some small comfort in this time of misery.

DAMON.

Oh Stephano, have you ben so long with me,

{10}And yet do you not know the force of true amity?

I tell you once again, my friend and I are but one:

Wait upon Pithias, and think you are with Damon.

Whereof I may not now discourse, the time passes away.

The sooner I am gone, the shorter shall be my journey.

{15}Therefore farewell Stephano, commend me to my friend Pithias

Whom I trust to deliver in time out of this woefull case. Exit.

STEPHANO.

Farewell my dear Master, since your pleasure is so.

Oh cruel hap, oh poor Stephano!

O cursed Carisophus, that first moved this tragedy!

{20}But what noise is this? Is all well within, trow you?

I fear all be not well within. I will go see.

[He exits, and comes out again dragging Carisophus on stage. Jack follows.]

Come out you Weasel, are you seeking eggs in Damon’s chest?

Come out I say, will you be packing? By cocke you wear best.

CARISOPHUS.

How dare you villain to lay hands on me?

STEPHANO.

{25} Out sir knave or I will send you!

Are you not content to accuse Damon wrongfully,

But will you rob him also, and that openly?

CARISOPHUS.

The King gave me the spoil, to take mine own. Will you let me?

STEPHANO.

Thine own, villain? Where is your authority?

CARISOPHUS.

{30}I am authority of myself, do you not know?

STEPHANO.

By the Lady, that is somewhat, but have you no more to show?

CARISOPHUS.

What if I have not?

STEPHANO.

Then for an earnest penny, take this blow.

<I s>hall bumbast you, you mocking knave, I’ll put pro in my purse for this time.

CARISOPHUS.

{35} Jack, give me my sword and target.

JACK.

I can not come to you master, this knave does me let. Hold master!

STEPHANO.

Away Jack-an-ape, else I will colpheg you by and by.

<You> slave I will have my penny worth of thee, therefore if I die!

<A>bout, villain!

CARYSOPH.

{40} O Citizens, help to defend me!

STEPHANO.

Nay, they will rather help to hang you.

CARISOPHUS.

Good fellow, let us reason this matter quietly, beat me no more.

STEPHANO.

<O>f this condition I will stay: if you swear as you are an honest man

<Y>ou will say nothing to the King of this when I am gone.

CARISOPHUS.

{45} I will say nothing: here is my hand, as I am an honest man.

STEPHANO.

Then say on your mind. I have taken a wise oath on him, have I not, trow ye?

<T>o trust such a false knave upon his honesty,

<As> he is an honest man (quoth you) he may betray all to the King,

<An>d break his oath for this never a whit. But my franion, I tell you this one thing:

{50} <If> you disclose this, I will devise such a way,

<Th>at while you live you shall remember this day.

CARISOPHUS.

You need not devise for that, for this day is printed in my memory.

<I> warrant you, I shall remember this beating till I die.

<B>ut seeing of courtesy you have granted that we should talk quietly,

{55} <M>ethinks, in calling me knave, you do me much injury.

STEPHANO.

Why so, I pray you heartly?

CARYSOPHUS.

Because I am the King’s man. Keeps the king any knaves?

STEPHANO.

He should not, but what he does it is evident by you,

And as far as I can learn or understand,

{60}There is none better able to keep knaves in all the land.

CARISOPHUS.

Oh sir, I am a Courtier. When Courtiers shall hear tell

How you have used me, they will not take it well.

STEPHANO.

Nay, all right courtiers will give me thanks, and wot you why?

Because I handled a counterfait Courtier in his kind so finely.

{65}What sir, all are not Courtiers that have a counterfait show,

In a troop of honest men, some knaves may stand ye know,

Such as by stelth creep in, under the colour of honesty,

Which sort under that cloak, do all kind of villany.

{70}A right courtier is virtuous, gentle, and full of urbanity,

Hurting no man, good to all, devoid of all villainy.

But such as you act, fountains of scurrility, and vain delights,

Though you hang by the Courts, you are but flattering parasites,

As well deserving the right name of courtesy,

{75}As the coward knight the true praise of chivalry.

I could say more, but I will not, for that I am your well-willer.

In faith Carisophus, you are no courtier but a caterpillar,

A sicophant, a parasite, a flatterer, and a knave.

Whether I will or no, these names you must have:

{80}How well you deserve this, by your deeds it is known,

For that so unjustly you have accused poor Damon,

Whose woeull case the Gods help alone.

CARISOPHUS.

Sir, are you his servant that you pity his case so?

STEPHANO.

No bum troth, goodman Grumb, his name is Stephano.

{85} I am called Onaphets, if need you will know.

[(aside)] The knave begins to sift me, but I turn my name in and out:

Cretiso cum cretense, to make him a loot.

CARISOPHUS.

What mumble you with yourself, Master Onaphets?

STEPHANO.

I am reckoning with myself, how I may pay my debts.

CARISOPHUS.

{90}You have paid me more then you did owe me.

STEPHANO.

Nay, upon a farther reckoning, I will pay you more if I know

Either you talk of that is done, or by your sicophantical envy,

You prick forth Dionysius the sooner, that Damon may die,

{95}I will so pay you, that your bones shall rattle in your skin.

Remember what I have said, Onaphets is my name. Exit.

CARISOPHUS.

The sturdy knave is gone. The Devil him take,

He has made my head, shoulders, arms, sides, and all to ache.

You whoreson villain boy, why did you wait no better?

{100}As he paid me, so will I not die your debtor.

JACK.

Master, why do you fight with me? I am not your match you see.

You dared not fight with him. He is gone, and will you wreak your anger on me.

CARYSOPHUS.

You villain, by you I have lost mine honour:

Beatn with a codgel like a slave, a vagabond or a lazy lubber,

{105}And not given one blow again. Have you handled me well?

JACK.

Master I handled you not, but who did handled you very handsomely, you can tell.

CARYSOPHUS.

Handsomly, you crake-rope?

JACK.

Yea sir, very handsomely I holde you a groat.

He handled you so handsomly, that he left not one more in your coat.

CARISOPHUS.

{110}O I had firked him trimly you villaine, if you had given me my Sword.

JACK.

It is better as it is, master, believe me at a word:

If he had seen your weapon, he would have ben fiercer,

<A>nd so perhaps beat you worse. I speak it with my heart:

<Y>ou were never yet at the dealing of fence blows, but you had four away for your part.

{115} <I>t is but your luck: you are man good enough,

<B>ut the welch Onaphets was a vengeance knave and rough.

<M>aster, you were best go home and rest in your bed:

<M>ethinks your cap waves too little for your head.

CARISOPHUS.

What? Does my head swell?

JACK.

{120} Yea as big as a Codshed, and bleeds too.

CARYSOPHUS.

I am ashamed to show my face with this hue.

JACK.

No shame at all, men have been beaten far better than you.

CARISOPHUS.

I must go to the Chirurgians. What shall I say when I am a dresling?

JACK.

You may say truly, you met with a knave’s blessing. Exeunt.

[SCENE 12].

Here enters Aristippus.

ARISTIPPUS.

By mine own experience, I prove true that many men tell:

To live in Court not beloved, better be in Hell.

What crying out? What cursing is there within of Carisophus,

Because he accused Damon to King Dionysius.

{5}Even now, he came whining and crying into the Court for the nonce,

Showing that one Onaphets had broke his knave’s sconce,

Which strange name when they heard, every man laughed heartily.

And I by myself scanned his name secretly,

For well I knew it was some madheded child

{10}That invented this name, that the logheaded knave might be beguiled.

In tossing it often with myself to and fro,

I found out that Onaphets backward spelled Stephano.

I smiled in my sleeve, how to see by turnyng his name, he dressed him,

And how for Damon his master’s sake, with a wodden codgel he blessed him.

{15}None pitied the knave, no man nor woman, but all laughed him to scorn

To be thus hated of all better unborn.

Far better Aristippus has provided I trow,

for in all the Court, I am beloved both of high and low.

I offend none, in so much that women sing this to my great praise:

{20} Omnis Aristippum docuit colore, and locus and res.

But in all this joviality, one thing amazes me,

The strangest thing that ever was heard or known

Is now happened in this court by that Damon.

Whom Carisophus accused, Damon is now at liberty,

{25}For whose return Pithias his friend lies in prison, alas in great jeopardy.

Tomorrow is the day, which day by noon if Damon return not, earnestly

The king has sworn that Pithias should die.

Wherof Pithias has intelligence very secretly,

Wishing that Damon may not return, till he has paid

{30}His life for his friend. Has it been heard before or ever said,

That any man for his friend would die so willingly?

O noble friendship, o perfect amity,

Your force is here seen, and that very perfectly:

The king himself muses here at. Yet is he far out of square,

{35}That he trusts none to come near him. Not his own daughters will he have

<U>nsearched to enter his chamber, which he has made barbers his beard to shave,

<N>ot with knife or razour, for all edge tools he fears

<B>ut with hot burning nutshells, they sing off his ears.

Was there ever man that lived in such misery?

{40}Well, I will go in with a heavy and pensive heart too,

<T>o think how Pithias this poor gentleman tomorrow shall die. Exit.

[SCENE 13].

Here enters Jack and Will.

JACK.

Will, by my honesty, I will mar your monkey’s face if you so fondly prate.

WILL.

Jack, by my truth, seeing you are without the Court gay,

<I>f you play Jack-an-apes in mocking my master and dispising my face,

<E>ven here with a Pantacle, I will you disgrace.

{5}<A>nd though you have a far better face than I,

<Y>et, who is better man of us two, these fists shall try,

<U>nless you leave your taunting.

JACK.

You began first. Did you not say even now,

<T>hat Carisophus my Master was no man but a cow

{10}<In> taking so many blows, and gave never a blow again?

WILL.

I said so indeed. He is but a tame Ruffian,

<Th>at can swear by his flask and touch-box and God’s precious lady,

<A>nd yet be will be beaten with a faggot stick.

<T>hese barking whelps were never good biters,

{15}<Nor> yet great crackers were ever great fighters.

<B>ut seeing you egg me so much I will somewhat more resight.

<I s>ay Carisophus your master is a flattering parasite:

<G>lening away the sweet from the worthy in all the Court,

<W>hat tragedie has he moved of late? The deuil take him, he does much hurt.

JACK.

{20}I pray you, what is Aristippus your master? Is not he a Parasite too,

<T>hat with scoffing and testing in the Court makes so much ado?

WILL.

He is no parasite, but a pleasant Gentlman, full of courtesy.

<Your> master is a churlish lout, the heir of a dung fork, as void of honesty,

<As> you are of honour.

JACK.

{25}Nay if you will need be prating of my master still,

<In> faith, I must call you my friend Dapper Will.

<T>ake this at the beginning.

WILL.

<I> praise well your winning, my Pantacle is as ready as yours.

JACK.

By the Mass, I will box you.

WILL.

{30}By cock, I will fox you.

JACK.

Will, was I with you?

WILL.

Jack, did I fly?

JACK.

Alas pretty cackerell, you are too weak.

WILL.

In faith Dutting Duttell, you will cry creak.

Here enters Snap.

SNAP.

{35}Away you cracke ropes, are you fighting at the Court’s gate?

If I take you here again, I will swinge you both. Exit.

JACK.

I beshrew Snap the Tipstaff, that great knave’s heart, that hither did come.

Had he not been, you had cried before this Victus, victa, victum.

But seeing we have breathed ourselfes, if you list,

{40}Let us agree like friends, and shake each other by the fist. 

WILL.

Content am I, for I am not malicious, but on this condition:

That you talk no more so broad of my master as here you have done.

But who have we here? Is Cobex epi coming yonder?

JACK.

Will, let us slip aside and view him well.

Here enters Grim the Collier whistling.

GRIM.

{45}What Devil? I ween the Porters are drunk. Will they not dup the gate today,

Take in coals for the king’s own mouth. Will nobody stir, I say?

I might have layne two hours longer in my bed.

I’ve tarried so long here, that my teeth chatter in my head.

JACK.

Will, after our falling out, will you laugh merrily?

WILL.

{50}I marry Jack, I pray you heartily.

JACK.

Then follow me, and hem in a word now and then.

What brawling knave is there at the Court gate so early?

WILL.

It is some brainsick villain, I durst lay a penny.

JACK.

It was you sir that cried so loud, I trow,

{55}And bid us take in coals for the King’s mouth, even now.

GRIM.

'Twas I indeed.

JACK.

Why sir? How dare you speak such petty treason?

Does the King eat coals at any season?

GRIM.

Here is a gay world: boys now set old men to school!

{60}<I> said well enough. What Jack-sauce, think you I am a fool?

<A>t bake-house, buttery-hatch, kitchen and cellar,

Do they not say for the King’s mouth?

WILL.

What then, good man collier?

GRIM.

{65}What then? Seeing without coals they cannot finely dress the King’s meat.

May I not say, take in coals for the King’s mouth, though coals he does not eat?

JACK.

Name of Christ, came ever from a collier an answer so trim?

You are learned, are you not Father Grim?

GRIM.

Grim is my name indeed. I am not learned, and yet the King’s collier.

{70}This forty winter I have been to the King a servant,

Though I be not learned, yet I have mother’s wit enough whole and some.

WILL.

So it seems: you have so much mother wit, that you lack your father’s wisdom.

GRIM.

By the Mass, I am well beset. Here is a trim cast of merlins.

What are you my pretty cockerel, that ask me these questions?

JACK.

{75}Good faith master Grim, if such merlins on your pouch may light

They are so quick of winge that quickly they can carry it out of your sight.

And though we are cockerells now, we shall have spurs one day,

And shall be able perhaps to make you a capon.

But to tell you truth, we are the Porter’s men, which early and late,

{80}Wait on such Gentlemen as you to open the court gate.

GRIM.

Are you servants then?

WILL.

Yea sir. Are we not pretty men?

GRIM.

Pretty men? You? Nay, you are strong men, else you could not bear these breeches.

WILL.

Are these great hose? In faith, good man collier, you see with your nose.

{90}By mine honesty, I have but for one lining in one hose, but seven else of rug.

GRIM.

That is but a little, yet it makes you seem a great bug.

JACK.

How say you good man collier, can you find any fault here?

GRIM.

Nay you should find fault. Mary here’s trim gear!

Alas little knave, does not sweat? You go with great pain.

{95}These are no hose, but water-bugets, I tell you plain:

Good for none, but such as have no buttocks.

Did you ever see two such little robin ruddocks,

So laden with breeches? I will say no more, lest I offend.

Who invented these monsters first, did it to a ghostly end

{100}To have a male, ready to put in other folk’s stuff.

We see this euident by daily proof:

One preached of late not far hence, in no pulpit, but in a wain cart,

That spake enough of this. But for my part,        

I will say no more. Your own necessity,

{105}In the end will force you to find some remedy.

JACK.

Will, hold this railing knave with a talk when I am gone.

I will fetch him his filling ale for his good sermon. [Exit.]

WILL.

Go your way. Father Grim, gaily well you do say,

It is but young men’s folly that list to play

{110}And mask a while in the net of their own devise.

When they come to your age, they will be wise.

GRIM.

Bum troth, but few such roisters come to my years at this day.

They be cut off before time, or they have gone half their iourney.

I will not tell why, let them guess that can, I mean somewhat thereby.

Enter Jack with a pot of wine, and a cup to drink on.

JACK.

{115}Father Grim, because you are sturring so early,

I have brought you a bowl of wine to make you merry.

GRIM.

Wine? Merry, that is welcome to colliers. I will sweep of by and by.

I was stirring so early that my very soul is dry.

JACK.

This is stoutly done. Will you have it warmed, father Grim?

GRIM.

{120}No, it is warm enough, it is very luscious and trim.

‘Tis muscadine I ween. Of fellowship let me have an other spur:

I can drink as easily now, as if I sat in my shirt.

JACK.

By cock and you shall have it. But I begin and that anon,

It bit avow mon companion.

GRIM.

{125}Ihar vow pleadge pety Zawne.

JACK.

Can you speak French? Here is a trim collier by this day.

GRIM.

What man? I have learned this when I was a souldier,

When I was a lusty fellow, and could yark a whip trimly,

Better then these boy Colliers that come to the Court daily.

{130}When there were not so many captious fellows as now,

That would toruppe men for every trifle. I wot not how:

<A>s there was one Damon, not long since, taken for a Spy.

<H>ow justly I know not, but he was condemned to die.

WILL.

This Wine has warmed him, this comes well to pass.

{135}We shall know all now, for In vino veritas.

<F>ather Grim, who accused this Damon to King Dionysius?

GRIM.

A vengeance take him, ‘twas a gentleman, one Master Crowsphus.

WILL.

Crowsphus? You clip the King’s language. You would have said Carisophus.

But I percieve now, either the wind is at the South,

{140} Or else your tongue cleans to the roof of your mouth.

GRIM.

A murrain take this wine: it so intoxicate my brain,

That to be hanged by and by, I cannot speak plain.

JACK.

You speak knavishly plain, seeinge my master you do mock.

In faith ere you go, I will make you a lobcock:

{145} Father Grim, what say they of this Damon abroad?

GRIM.

All men are sorry for him, so help me God.

They say a false knave accused him to the king wrongfully,

And he is gone, and should be here tomorrow to die,

Or else his fellow which is in prison, his room shall supplie.

{150} Chill not be his half for forty shillings, I tell you plain.

I think Damon be too wise to return again.

WILL.

Will no man speak for them in this woeful case?

GRIM.

No I will warrant you. One master Stippus is in place,

Where he may do good, but he frames himself so,

{155}Whatsoever Dionysius wills to that he will not say no.

‘Tis a subtle fox, he will not tread on thorns for none,

A merry hare-cope he is and a pleasant companion,

A right courtier, and can provide for one.

JACK.

Will, how like you this gear? Your master Aristippus also,

{160} At this collier’s hand has had a blow.

But in faith, father Grim, cannot you colliers

Provide for yourselves far better then courtiers?

GRIM.

Yes I trow. Black colliers go in threadbare coats,

Yet so prouide they that they have the faire white groats.

{165} I may say in counsel, though all day I moil in dirt,

I’ll not change lives with any in Dionysius’ court:

For though their apparell be never so fine,

Yet sure their credit is far worse then mine.

And by cocke I may say, for all their high looks,

{170} I know some sticks full deep in merchants’ books,

And deeper will fall in, as fame me tells,

As long as in stead of money, they take up hawks’ hoods and bells.

Whereby they fall into a swelling disease, which Colliers do not know,

‘T’has a mad name. It is called, I ween, Centum pro cento.

{175}Some other in Courts make others laugh merrily,

When they wail and lament their own estate secretly:

Friendship is dead in Court, hypocrisy does reign.

Who is in favour now, tomorrow is out again:

The state is so uncertaine, that I by my will,

{180} Will never be courtier, but a collier still.

WILL.

It seems that Colliers have a very trim life.

GRIM.

Colliers get money still. Tell me of truth,

Is not that a trim life now as the world goes?

All day, though I toil with main and might,

With money in my pouch, I come home merry at night,

{185} And sit down in my chair by my wife fair Alison,

And tourn a crab in the fire, as merry as Pope John.

JACK.

That Pope was a mery fellow, of whom folk talk so much.

GRIM

Had to be merry withal, had gold enough in his hutch.

JACK.

Can golde make men merry? They say who can sing so merry a note,

{190} As he that is not able to change a groat?

GRIM.

Who sings in that case sings never in tune. I know for my part

That a heavy pouch with gold makes a light heart,

Of which I have provided for a dear year good store,

And these Beenters I trowe, shall anon get me more.

WILL.

{195} By serving the Court with coals you gained all this money.

GRIM.

By the Court only I assure you.

JACK.

After what sort, I pray you tell me?

GRIM.

Nay, ‘there bate me an ace’, quod Bolton. I can wear a horn and blow it not.

JACK.

By the Lady, the wiser man.

GRIM.

{200}Shall I tell you by what sleight I got all this money,

Then ich were a nobody indeed! No, no, I warrant ye.

Yet in few words I tell you this one thing:

He is a very fool that can not gain by the King.

WILL.

Well said father Grim. You are a wily collier and a brave,

{205}I see now there is no knave to the old knave.

GRIM.

Such knaves have money, when courtiers have none.

But tell me, is it true that abroad is blown?

JACK.

What is that?

GRIM.

Has the King made those fair Damsels his daughters,

{210}To become now fine and trim Barbers?

JACK.

Yea truly to his own person.

GRIM.

Good fellows believe me, as the case now stands,

I would give one sacke of coals, to be washed at their hands.

If I came so near them, for my wit should not give three chips,

{215}If I could not steal one swap at their lips.

JACK.

Will, this knave is drunk. Let us dress him,

Let us riffle him so that he have not one penny to bless him,

And steal away his Debenters too.

WILL.

Content. Invent the way, and I am ready.

JACK.

{220}Faith, and I will make him a nobody.

Father Grim, if you pray me well, I will wash you and shave you too

Even after the same fashion as the King’s daughters do.

In all points as they handle Dionysius, I will dress you trim and fine.

GRIM.

I should fain learn that. Come on then, I’ll give you a whole pint of wine

{225}At tavern for your labour, when I have money for my benters here.

Here Will fetches a barber’s basin, a pot with water, a razour, and clothes and a pair of spectacles.

JACK.

Come mine own Father Grim, sit down.

GRIM

By the Mass, to begin withal, here is a trim chair.

JACK.

What, man? I will use you like a prince: sir boy, fetch me my gear.

WILL.

Here sir.

JACK.

{230} Hold up, father Grim.

GRIM.

Meseems my head does swim.

JACK.

My Costly perfumes make that. Away with this sir boy, be quick.

Aloyse, aloyse, how how pretty it is! Is not here a good face?

A fine owl’s eyes, a mouth like an oven.

{235} Father, you have good nutter teeth, full seen.

You were weaved, else you would have ben a great calf.

Ah trim lips to sweep a Manger, here is a chin,

As soft as the hoof of an horse.

GRIM.

Does the King’s daughters rub so hard?

JACK.

{240}Hold your head straight man, else all will be marred.

By the Lady, you are of a good complexion:

A right Croydon sanguine, beshrew me.

Hold up father Grim. Will, can you bestir ye?

GRIM

Methinks after a marvelous fashion you do besmear me.

JACK.

{245}It is with unguentum of Daucus Maucus. That is very costly,

I give not this washing ball to every body.

After you have been dressed so finely at my hand,

You may kiss any lady’s lips within this land.

Ah, you are trimly washed. How say you, is not this trim water?

GRIM.

{250}It may be wholesome, but it is vengeance sour.

JACK.

It scours the better. Sir boy, give me my razour.

WILL.

Here at hand sir.

GRIM.

God's aymes, tis a chopping knife, tis no Razour.

JACK.

It is a razour and that a very good one.

{255}It came lately from Palermo, it cost me 20 crowns alone.

Your eyes dazzle after your washing: these spectacles put on.

Now view you this razour: tell me, is it not a good one?

GRIM.

They be gay barnackels, yet I see never the better.

JACK.

Indeed, they be a young sight, and that is the matter.

{260}But I warrant you, this razour is very easy.

GRIM.

Go to then: since you began, do as please yoy.

JACK.

Hold up father Grim.

GRIM.

O, your razour does hurt my lip!

JACK.

No, it scrapes off a pimple, to ease you of the pip.

{265}I have done now. How say you? Are you not well?

GRIM.

Cham lighter then I was, the truth to tell.

JACK.

Will you sing after your shaving?

GRIM.

By the Mass, content, but I’ll be polled first ere I sing.

JACK.

Nay that shall not need, you are polled near enough for this time.

GRIM.

{270}Go to then lustily, I will sing in my man’s voice.

Chave a troubling base busse.

JACK.

You are like to bear the bob, for we will give it.

Set out your bussing base, and we will quiddle upon it.

Grim and Jack sings bass.

Too nidden, and too nidden.

Will sings.

{275}Too nidden, and toodle, toodle do nidden,

Is not Grim the collier most finely shaven?

GRIM.

Why my fellows, think I am a cow, that you make such toying?

JACK.

Nay by’r Lady, you are no cow by your singing,

Yet your wife told me you were an ox.

GRIM.

{280}Did she so? ‘Tis a pestilent quean, she is full of such mocks.

But go to, let us sing out our songe merrily,

The song at the shaving of the Collier.

JACK.

Such Barbers God send you at all times of need.

WILL.

That can dress you finely, and make such quick speed.

JACK.

{285}Your face like an inkhorn, now shines so gay ...

WILL.

... that I with your nostrils of force must needs play.

With too nidden, and too nidden ...

JACK.

With too nidden, and todle todle do nidden,

Is not Grim the Collier most finely shaven?

WILL.

{290}With shaving you shine like a pestle of Pork!

JACK.

Here is the trimmest hog’s flesh from London to York.

WILL.

It woulde be trim bacon to hange up a while ...

JACK.

... to play with this Hogline, of force I must smile.

With too nidden, and too nidden

WILL.

{295}With too nidden, and todle andc.

GRIM.

Your shaving does please me. I am now your debtor.

WILL,

Your wife now will buss you, because you are sweeter.

GRIM.

Near would I be polled, as near as I am shaven.

WILL.

Then out of your Ierkin needs must you be shaken.

{300}With too nidden, and too nidden, andc.

GRIM.

It is a trim thing to be washed in the Court.

WILL.

Their hands are so fine that they never do hurt.

GRIM.

Methinks I am lighter then ever I was.

WILL.

Our shaving in the Court has brought this to pass.

{305}With too nidden, and too nidden.

JACK.

With too nidden and todle todle do nidden.

Is not Grim the Collier most finely shaven? End of the song.

GRIM.

This is trimly done. Now I’ll pitch my coals not far hence,

and then at the tavern I’ll bestow whole two pence. Exit.

JACK.

{310}Farewell cock. Before the collier again do us seek,

<l>et us into the court to part the spoil, share and share like. Exit.

WILL

Away then. Exit.

Here enters Grim.

GRIM.

Out alas, where shall I make my moan?

<M>y pouch, my beenters and all is gone!

{315}<W>here is that villain that did me shave?

<H>as robbed me, alas, of all that I have.

Here enters Snap.

[SNAP.]
Who cries so at the Court’s gate?

GRIM.

I, the poor Collier, that was robbed of late.

SNAP.

Who robbed you?

GRIM.

{320}Two of the Porter’s men that did shave me.

SNAP.

Why? The Porter’s men are no Barbers.

GRIM.

A vengeance take them! They are quick carners.

<SN>AP.

What stature wear they of?

GRIM.

As little dapper knaves as they trimly could scoff.

SNAP.

{325}They were lackeys, as near as I can guess them.

GRIM.

Such lackeys make me lack: an halter beswing them!

I am undone, they have my beenters too.

Do you know them if you seest them?

GRIM.

Yea that I do.

SNAP.

{330}Then come with me, we will find them out and that quickly.

GRIM.

I follow master Tipstaff. They be in the Court, it is likely.

SNAP.

Then cry no more, come away. Exeunt.

[SCENE 14].

Here enter Carisophus and Aristippus.

[CARISOPHUS.]

If ever you will show your friendship, now is the time,

Seeing the king is displeased with me, of my part without any crime.

ARISTIPPUS.

It should appear it comes of some evil behaviour,

That you so suddenly are cast out of favour.

CARISOPHUS.

{5}Nothing have I done, but this. In talk I overthwarted Eubulus,

When he lamented Pithias’ case to King Dionysius,

Which tomorrow shall die, but for that false knave Damon.

He has left his friend in the briers and now is gone.

We grew so hot in talk, that Eubulus protested plainly,

{10}Which held his care open to parasitical flattery.

And now in the King’s ear like a bell he rings,

Crying that flatterers have been the destroyers of kings,

Which talk in Dionysius’ heart has made so deep impression,

That he trusts me not as heretofore in no condition.

{15}And some words brake from him as though that he

Began to suspect my truth and honesty,

Which you of friendship I know will defend, howsoever the world goes.

My friend for my honesty, will you not take an oath?

ARISTIPPUS.

To swear for your honesty, I should lose mine own.

CARISOPH

{20}Should you so indeed? I would that were known.

Is your void friendship come thus to passe?

ARISTIPPUS.

I follow the proverb: Amicus usque ad aras.

CARISOPHUS.

Where can you say, I ever lost mine honesty?

ARISTIPPUS.

You never lost it, for you never had it, as far as I know.

CARISOPHUS.

{25}Say you so, friend Aristippus, whom I trust so well?

ARISTIPPUS.

Because you trust me, to you the truth I tell.

CARISOPHUS.

Will you not stretch one point, to bring me in favour again?

ARISTIPPUS.

I love no stretching, so may I breed mine own pain.

CARISOPHUS.

A friend ought to shun no pain, to stand his friend instead.

ARISTIPPUS.

{30}Where true friendship is, it is so in very deed.

CARISOPHUS.

Why sir? Has not the chain of true friendship linked us two together?

ARISTIPPUS.

The chiefest link lacked thereof, it must needs desever.

CARISOPHUS.

What linke is that? Fain would I know!

ARISTIPPUS.

Honesty.

CARISOPHUS.

{35}Does honesty knit the perfect knot in true friendship?

ARISTIPPUS.

Yea truly, and that knot so knit will never slip.

CARISOPHUS.

Belike then there is no friendship but betwene honest men.

ARISTIPPUS.

<B>etween the honest only, for Amicitia inter bonus, says a learned man.

CARISOPHUS.

<Y>et evil men use friendship in things unhonest, where fancy does serve.

ARISTIPPUS.

{40}That is no friendship, but a lewd liking: it lasts but a while.

CARISOPHUS.

What is the perfectst friendship among men that ever grew?

ARISTIPPUS.

Where men loved one another, not for profit but for virtue.

CARISOPHUS.

Are such friends both alike in joy and also in smart?

ARISTIPPUS.

They must need, for in two bodies they have but one heart.

CARISOPHUS.

{45} Friend Aristippus, deceive me not with sophistry:

Is there no perfect friendship, but where is virtue and honesty?

ARISTIPPUS.

What the devil then meant Carisophus,

To join in friendship with fine Aristippus,

In whom is as much him, truth and honesty,

{50}As there are true feathers in Three Craines of the Vintry?

Yet these feathers have the shadow of lively feathers the truth to scan,

But Carisophus has not the shadow of an honest man.

To be plain, because I know your villainy

In abusing Dionysius, to many men’s iniury,

{55}Under the cloak of friendship I played with his head,

And sought means how you with thine own fancy might be lead.

My friendship you sought for your own commodity,

As worldly men do by profite measuring amity.

Which I percieving, to the like myself I framed,

{60}Wherein I know of the wise I shall not be blamed.

If you ask me, Quare, I answer, Quia prudentis est multum dissimulare.

To speak more plainly, as the proverb does go,

In faith Carisophus, Cum cretense cretiso.

Yet a perfect friend I show myself to you in one thing:

{65}I do not dissemble, now I say I will not speak for you to the King.

Therefore sink in your sorrow, I do not deceive you:

A false knave I found you, a false knave I leave you. Exit.

CARISOPHUS.

He is gone? Is this friendship to leave his friend in the plain fields?

Well I see now, I myself have beguiled,

{70}In matching with that false for in amity,

Which has me used to his own commodity,

Which seeing me in distress, unfainedly goes his ways.

Lo this is the perfect friendship among men nowadays,

Which kind of friendship toward him I used secretly:

{75}And be with me the like, has requited me craftly.

It is the Gods’ judgement, I see it plainly,

For all the world may know, Incide in foveam quam fed.

Well I must content myself: none other help I know,

Until a merrier gale of wind may happen to blow. Exit.

[SCENE 15].

Enter Eubulus.

EUBULUS.

Who deals with kings in matters of great weight,

When forward will, does bear the chiefest sway,

Must yield of force, their need no subtle sleight.

Neither painted speech the matter to convey,

{5}No prayer can move, when kindled is the ire,

The more you quench, the more increased is the fire.

This thing I prove in Pithias’ woeful case,

Whose heavy hap with tears I do lament:

The day is come when he in Damon’s place,

{10}Must lose his life the time is fully spent.

Nought can my words now with the King prevail,

Against the wind and striving streame I sail.

For die you must alas you silly Greek.

Ah Pithias, now come is your doleful hour:

{15}A perfect friend none such a world to seek.

Though bitter death shall give you sauce full sower,

Yet for your faith enrolled shall be your name,

Among the Gods within the book of fame.

Who knows his case, and will not melt in tears?

{20}His guiltless blood shall trickle down anon.

Then the Muses sing.

[MUSES.]

Alas what hap has you, poor Pithias, now to die,

Wo worth the which man for his death has given us cause to cry.

EUBULUS.

Methinks I hear with yellow-rented hears,

The Muses frame their notes my state to moan,

{25}Among which sort as one that mourns with heart,

In doleful tunes. Myself will bear a part.

MUSES.

Who worth the man which for his death. etc.

EUBULUS.

With yellow-rented hears come on, you Muses nine,

Fill now my breast with heavy tunes, to me your plaints resign.

{30}For Pithias, I bewail which presently must die.

Wo worth the man which for his death has given us cause. andc.

MUSES.

Wo worth the man which for his. etc.

EUBULUS.

Was ever such a man that would die for his friend?

I think even from the heavens above, the Gods did him down send

{35}To shew true friendship’s power, which forced you now to die.

Wo worth the man which for your death, etc.

MUSES.

Who worth the man, etc.

EUBULUS.

What Tiger’s whelp was he, that Damon did accuse?

What faith have you, which for your friend your death does not refuse?

{40}O heavy hap hadst you to play this tragedy,

Wo worth the man which for your death, etc.

MUSES.

Wo worth the man, etc.

EUBULUS.

You young and worthy Greek, that showed such perfect love,

The Gods recieve your simple ghost, into the heavens above.

{45}Your death we shall lament with many a weeping eye,

Wo worth the man which for his death, etc.

MUSES.

Wo worth the man which for your death,

Has given us cause to crie. Finis.

EUBULUS.

Eternall be your fame you Muses, for that in misery,

{50}You did vouchsafe to strain your notes to walk.

My heart is rent in two, with this miserable case,

Yet am I charged by Dionysius’ mouth, to see this place,

At all points ready for the execution of Pithias.

Need has no law: will I or won’t I, it must be done.

{55}But lo the bloody minister, is even here at hand.

[(Enter Gronno)]

Gronno, I came hither now to understand,

If all things are well appointed for the execution of Pithias.

The King himself will see it done here in this place.

GRONNO.

Sir, all things are ready. Here is the place, here is the hand, here is the sword.

{60}Here lacks none but Pithias, whose head at a word,

If he were present, I coulde finely strike off.

You may report that all things are ready.

EUBULUS.

I go with an heavy heart to report it. Ah woeful Pithias,

Full near now is your misery. Exit.

GRONNO.

{65}I marvel very much, under what constellation

All hangmen are born, for they are hated of all, beloved of none.

Which hatred is showed by this point evidently:

The Hangman always dwells in the vilest place of the City.

That such spight should be, I know no cause why,

{70}Unless it be for their office’s sake, which is cruel and bloody.

Yet some men must do it to execute laws.

Methinks they hate me without any just cause.

But I must look to my toil: Pithias must lose his head at one blow,

Else the boys will stone me to death in the street as I go.

{75}But hark, the prisoner comes, and the king also.

I see there is no help, Pithias his life must forgo.

Here enters Dionysius and Eubulus.

DIONYSIUS.

Bring forth Pithias that pleasant companion,

Which took me at my word and became pledge for Damon.

It pricks fast upon noon. I do him no injury

{80}If now he loses his head, for so he requested me.

If Damon returns not, which now in Greece is full merry,

Therefore shall Pithias pay his death, and that by and by.

He thought belike, if Damon were out of the city,

I would not put him to death, for some foolish pity.

{85}But seeing it was his request, I will not be mocked he shall die.

Bring him forth.

Here enter Snap [and Pithias].

SNAP.

Give place, let the prisoner come by, give place.

DIONYSIUS.

How say you sir? Where is Damon, your trusty friend?

You have played a wise part, I make God avow.

{90}You know what time a day it is: make you ready.

PITHIAS.

Most ready I am mighty king, and most ready also

For my true friend Damon this life to forgo,

Even at your pleasure.

DIONISIUS.

A true friend? A false traitor that so breaks his oath!

{95}You shall lose your life, though you be never so loth.

PITHIAS.

I am not loth to do whatsoever I said,

Nor at this present pinch of death am I dismayed.

The Gods, now I know, have heard my fervent prayer,

That they have reserved me to this passing great honour,

{100}To die for my friend, whose faith, even now, I do not mistrust.

My friend Damon is no false traitor, he is true and just,

But since he is no God but a man, he must do as he may.

The wind may be contrary, sickness may let him, or some misadventure by the way,

Which the eternal Gods tourn all to my glory.

{105}That Fame may resound how Pithias for Damon did die:

He breaks no oath, which does as much as he can,

His mind is here, he has some wit, he is but a man.

That he might not return, of all the Gods I did require,

Which now to my joy, does grant my desire.

{110}But why do I stay any longer, seeing that one man’s death,

May suffice, o king, to pacify your wrath?

O you minister of justice, do your office by and by.

Let not your hand tremble, for I tremble not to die.

Stephano the right patron of true fidelity,

{115}Commend me to your master, my sweet Damon, and of him crave liberty

When I am dead in my name, for your trusty services

Have well deserved a gift far better then this.

Oh my Damon, farewell now forever. A true friend to me most dear

While life does last, my mouth shall still talk of thee,

{120}And when I am dead my simple ghost, true witness of amity,

Shall hover about the place wheresoever you be.

DIONYSIUS.

Eubulus, this gear is strange, and yet because

Damon has falsed his faith, Pithias shall have the law.

Gronno, dispoil him, and then dispatch him quickly.

GRONNO.

{125}It shall be done. Since you came into this place,

I might have stroken of seven heads in this space.

By’r Lady, here are good garments. These are mine by the road.

It is an evil wind that blows no man good.

Now Pithias, kneel down, ask me blessing like a pretty boy,

{130}And with a trise your head from your shoulders I will convey.

Here enters Damon running and stays the sword.

[DAMON.]

Stay, stay, stay, for the King’s advantage stay!

O mighty kyng, mine appointed time is not yet fully past,

Within the compass of mine houre lo, here, I come at last.

A life I owe, a life I will you pay!

{135}Oh my Pithias, my noble pledge, my constant friend,

Ah woe is me for Damon’s sake, how near were you to your end.

Give place to me, this room is mine, on this stage must I play:

Damon is the man, none ought but he to Dionysius his blood to pay.

GRONNO.

Are you come sir? You might have tarried if you had bene wise,

{140}For your hasty coming you are like to know the price.

PITHIAS.

O you cruel minister, why did not you your office?

Did not I bid you make haste in any wise?

Have you spared to kill me once that I may die twice:

Not to die for my friend, is present death to me, and alas,

{145}Shall I see my sweet Damon slain before my face.

<W>hat double death is this? But o mighty Dionysius,

<D>o true justice now. Way this aright, you noble Eubulus:

<Let> me have no wrong, as now stands the case.

<D>amon ought not to die, but Pithias:

{150}<B>y misadventure, not by his will, his hour is past. Therefore I,

<B>ecause he came not at his just tyme, ought justly to die:

<So> was my promise, so was your promise o King.

<All> this Court can bear witnesse of this thing.

DAMON.

Not so, o mighty King: to Justice it is contrary,

{155}<T>hat for an other man’s fault, the Innocent should die.

<Nor> yet is my time plainly expired, it is not fully noon,

<O>f this my day appointed, by all the clocks in the town.

PITHIAS.

Believe no Clock: the hour is past by the sun.

DAMON.

Ah my Pithias, shall we now break the bonds of amity?

{160}<T>ill you now overthwarted me, which heretofore so well did agree.

PITHIAS.

My Damon, the Gods forbid but we should agree,

<T>herefore agree to this: let me perform the promise I made for you.

<L>et me die for you, do me not that injury,

<B>oth to breake my promise, and to suffre me to see you die,

{165}<W>hom so dearly I love. This small request grant me,

<I> shall never ask you more, my desire is but friendly.

<D>o me this honour, that fame may report triumphantly,

<T>hat Pithias for his friend Damon was contented to die.

DAMON.

That you were contented for me to die, fame cannot deny.

{170}<Y>et fame shall never touch me with such a villainy,

<T>o report that Damon did suffer his friend Pithias, for him guiltless to die.

<T>herefore content yourself, the Gods require your constant faith:

<N>one but Damon’s blood can appease Dionysius’ wrath.

<A>nd now o mighty King, to you my talk I convey,

{175}<B>ecause you gave me leave, my worldly things to stay.

<T>o requite that good turn before I die, for your behalfe this I say:

<A>lthough your regal state, dame Fortune decks so,

<T>hat like a king in worldly wealth, aboundantly you fly,

<Y>et fickle is the ground whereon all tyrants tread.

{180}<A> thousand sundry cares and fears, do haunt their restless head:

<N>o trusty band, no faithfull friends did gard your hatefull state.

<A>nd why? Whom men obey for deadly fear, sure them they deadly hate

That you may safely reign, by love get friends, whose constant faith

Will never fail. This counsell gives poor Damon at his death:

{185}Friends are the surest gard, for King’s golden time do wear away

And other precious things do fade, friendship will never decay.

Have friends in store therefore, so shall you safely sleep,

Have friends at home of foreign foes, so need you take no keep.

Abandon flattering tongues, whose clair truth never false,

{190}Abase the ill, aduance the good, in whom dame virtue dwell:

Let them your play fellows be. But o you earthly kings,

Your sure defence and strongest guard stand chiefly in faithfull friend:

Then get you friends by liberall deeds. And here I make an end.

Accept this counsel, mighty king, of Damon, Pithias’ friend.

{195}Oh my Pithias, now farewell for ever. Let me kiss you before I die.

My soul shall honour you, your constant faith above the heavens shall fly.

Come, Gronno, do your office now. Why is your colour so dead?

My neck is so short, that you will never have honesty in striking of this heart.

DIONYSIUS.      

Eubulus, my spirits are suddenly appalled, my limbs waxe weak.

{200}This strange friendship amazes me so, that I can scarsely speak.

PITHIAS.

O mighty king, let some pity your noble heart mean.

You require but one man’s death: take Pithias, let Damon live.

EUBULUS.

O unspeakable friendship!

DAMON.

Not so, he has not offended, there is no cause why

{205}My constant friend, my Pithias, for Damon’s sake should die.

Alas he is but young, he may do good to many!

You coward minister, why do you not let me die?

GRONNO.

My hand with sudden fear quivers.

PITHIAS.

O noble king, show mercy on Damon, let Pithias die!

DIONYSIUS.

{210}Stay Gronno! My flesh trembles. Eubulus, what shall I do?

Were there ever such friends on earth as were these two?

What heart is so cruel that would divide them asunder?

O noble friendship, I must yield, at your force I wonder.

My heart, this rare friendship has pierced to the root,

{215}And quenched all my fury. This sight has brought this about,

Which your grave counsel Eubulus, and learned persuasion could never do.

<O> noble gentlemen, the immortal Gods above

<H>as made you play this tragedy, I think, for my behove.

<B>efore this day I never knew what perfect friendship meant,

{220}<M>y cruel mind to bloody deeds, was full and hell bent:

<M>y fearful life, I thought with fear to defend.

<B>ut now I see there is no guard unto a faithfull friend,

<W>hich will not spare his life at time of present need.

<O> happy kings, within your Courts have two such friends indeed:

{225}<I> honour friendship now, which that you may plainly see.

<D>amon, have you your life, from death I pardon you:

<F>or which good turn, I crave this honour do me lend,

<O>h friendly heart. Let me link with you, to you make me the third friend.

<M>y Court is yours, dwell here with me, by my commission large,

{230}<M>yself, my realm, my wealth, my health, I commit to your charge.

<T>ake me a third friend, more shall I joy in that thing,

<T>hen to be called as I am, Dionysius the mighty king.

DAMON.

O mighty king, first for my life most humble thanks I give,

<A>nd ever I praise the immortal Gods, that did your heart so move

{235}<T>hat you would have respect to friendships heavenly lore.

<F>oreseeing well, he feels not fear which has true friends in store.

<F>or my part, most noble king, as a third friend, welcome you to our friendly society,

<B>ut you must forget you are a king, for friendship stands in true equality.

DIONYSIUS.

Unequal though I be in great possessions,

{240}<Y>et full equal shall you find me in my changed conditions.

<T>iranny, flattery, oppression, lo, here I cast away!

<J>ustice, truth, love, friendship shall be my joy,

<T>rue friendship will I honour unto my life’s end.

<M>y greatest glory shall be, to be counted a perfect friend.

PITHIAS.

{245}For this your deed most noble King, the Gods aduance your name.

<A>nd since to friendships lore you list your Princely heart to frame,

With joyfull heart, o King, most welcome now to me,

With you will I knit the perfect knot of amity.

Wherein I shall enstruct you so, and Damon here your friend,

{250}That you may know of amity the mighty force and eke the joyful end,

<A>nd how that Kings do stand upon a fickle ground,

Within whose Realm at time of need, no faithful friends are found.

DIONYSIUS.

Your instruction will I follow, to you myself I do commit.

Eubulus, make haste to fet new apparell fit

{255}For my new friends.

EUBULUS.

I go with a joyful heart, o happy day. Exit.

GRONNO.

I am glad to hear this word. Though their lives they do not lose,

It is no reason the Hangman should lose his fees:

These are mine. I am gone with a trice. Exit.

Here enters Eubulus with new garments.

DIONYSIUS.

{260}Put on these Garments now. Go in with me the jewels of my court.

DAMON and PITHIAS.

We go with joyful hearts.

STEPHANO.

Oh Damon my dear master, in all this joy remember me.

DIONYSIUS.

My friend Damon, he asks reason?

DAMON.

Stephano, for your good service, be you free. Exeunt Dionysius, Damon and Pithias.

STEPHANO.

{265}O most happy, pleasant, joyfull, and triumphant day!

Poor Stephano, now shall live in continual joy:

Vive Le Roy with Damon and Pithias in perfect amity,

Vive tu Stephano, in your pleasant liberality,

Wherein I joy as much as he that has a conquest won!

{270}I am a free man, none so merry as I now under the sun.

Farewell my Lords, now the Gods grant you al ye some of perfect amity

And me long to enjoy my long deared liberty. Exit.

[SCENE 16].

Here enters Eubulus beating Carisophus.

EUBULUS.

Away villain, away you flattering parasite!

Away the plague of this court! Your vile tongue that forged lies,

No more here shall do hurt. Away false Sicophant, will you not?

CARISOPHUS.

I am gone sir, seeing it is the King’s pleasure,

{5}Why whip you me alone? A plague take Damon and Pithias since they came hither!

I am driven to seek release abroad. Alas, I know not whether.

Yet Eubulus, though I be gone, here after time shall try,

There shall be found even in this Court as great flatterers as I.

Well for a while I will forgo the Court, though to my great pain.

{10}<I> doubt not but to spy a time when I may creep in again. Exit.

EUBULUS.

The serpent that eats men alive, Flattery, with all her brood,

<I>s whipped away in Prince’s Courts which yet did never good.

What force, what mighty power, true Friendship may possess?

To all the world Dionysius’ Court now plainly does express,

{15}W<h>o since to faithful friends he gave his willing ear,

Most safely sits in his seat and sleeps devoid of fear.

<P>urged is the Court of vice, since friendship entered in.

Tiranny quails, he studies now with love each heart to win.

Virtue is had in price, and has his just reward,

{20}And painted speech that gloses for gain, from gifts is quite debarred.

One loves another now for virtue, not for gain,

Where virtue does not knit the knot, there Friendship cannot reign.

Without the which, no house, no land, no kingdom can endure,

As necessary for man’s life, as water, air, and fire,

{25}Which frames the mind of man all honest things to do.

Unhonest things friendship does not crave, neither yet consents theretoo.

In wealth a double joy, in woe a present stay,

<A> sweet companion in each state true Friendship is always:

<A> sure defence for kings, a perfect trusty bande,

{30}<A> force to assail, a shield to defend the enemies’ cruel hand,

<A> rare, and yet the greatest gift, that God can give to man.

<So> rare, that scarce four couple of faithful friends have been since the world began

<A> gift so strange, and of such price, I wish all kings to have.

But chiefly yet as duty bends I humbly crave,

{35}True friendship, and true friends full fraught with constant faith,

The giver of friends, the Lord grant her most noble Queen Elizabeth.

THE LAST SONG.

The strongest guard that Kings can have,

Are constant friends their state to save.

True friends are constant, both in word and deed,

True friends are present, and help at each need.

{5}True friends talk truly, they glose for no gain.

When treasure consumes, true friends will remain.

True friends for their true Prince, refuses not their death.

The Lorde grant her such friends, most noble Queen Elizabeth.

Long may she govern in honour and wealth,

{10}Void of all sickeness, in most perfect health:

Which health to prolongue, as true friends require,

God grant she may have her own heart’s desire,

Which friends will defend with most steadfast faith.

The Lord grant her such friends most noble Queen Elizabeth.

Finis.