Enter [Prince Edward], malcontented, with Lacy, earl of 2Lincoln, John Warren, earl of Sussex, and Ermsby, 3gentleman, [and] Rafe Simnell, the king's fool. 1.25Why looks my lord like to a troubled sky
1.36When heaven's bright shine is shadowed with a fog?
1.47Alate we ran the deer and through the launds
1.58Stripped with our nags the lofty frolic bucks
1.69That scudded 'fore the teisers like the wind.
1.710Ne'er was the deer of merry Fressingfield
1.811So lustily pulled down by jolly mates,
1.912Nor shared the farmers such fat venison,
1.1013So frankly dealt this hundred years before;
1.1114Nor have I seen my lord more frolic in the chase,
1.1215And now changed to a melancholy dump.
After the prince got to the Keeper's lodge
1.1417And had been jocund in the house awhile,
1.1518Tossing of ale and milk in country cans,
1.1619Whether it was the country's sweet content,
1.1720Or else the bonny damsel filled us drink
1.1821That seemed so stately in her stammel red,
1.1922Or that a qualm did cross his stomach then,
1.2023But straight he fell into his passions.
Sirrah Rafe, what say you to your master?
1.2225Shall he thus all amort live malcontent?
Hearest thou, Ned?-- Nay, look if he will speak
27to me.
What say'st thou to me, fool?
I prithee tell me, Ned, art thou in love with the
30Keeper's daughter?
How if I be, what then?
Why then, sirrah, I'll teach thee how to deceive love.
How, Rafe?
Marry, sirrah Ned, thou shalt put on my cap and
35my coat and my dagger, and I will put on thy clothes and thy
36sword, and so thou shalt be my fool.
And what of this?
Why so thou shalt beguile Love, for Love is such a
39proud scab that he will never meddle with fools nor children. Is
40not Rafe's counsel good, Ned?
Tell me, Ned Lacy, didst thou mark the maid,
1.3342How lively in her country weeds she looked?
1.3443A bonnier wench all Suffolk cannot yield.
1.3544All Suffolk? Nay, all England holds none such.
Sirrah Will Ermsby, Ned is deceived.
Why, Rafe?
He says all England hath no such, and I say, and
48I'll stand to it, there is one better in Warwickshire.
How provest thou that, Rafe?
Why, is not the Abbot a learnéd man and hath read
51many books, and thinkest thou he hath not more learning than
52thou to choose a bonny wench? Yes, I warrant thee, by his whole
53grammar.
A good reason, Rafe.
I tell thee, Lacy, that her sparkling eyes
1.4356Do lighten forth sweet love's alluring fire,
1.4457And in her tresses she doth fold the looks
1.4558Of such as gaze upon her golden hair;
1.4659Her bashful white mixed with the morning's red
1.4760Luna doth boast upon her lovely cheeks;
1.4861Her front is beauty's table, where she paints
1.4962The glories of her gorgeous excellence;
1.5063Her teeth are shelves of precious margarites,
1.5164Richly enclosed with ruddy coral cleaves.
1.5265Tush, Lacy, she is beauty's overmatch,
1.5366If thou survey'st her curious imagery.
I grant, my lord, the damsel is as fair
1.5568As simple Suffolk's homely towns can yield,
1.5669But in the court be quainter dames than she,
1.5770Whose faces are enriched with honor's taint,
1.5871Whose beauties stand upon the stage of fame,
1.5972And vaunt their trophies in the courts of Love.
Ah, Ned, but hadst thou watched her as myself,
1.6174And seen the secret beauties of the maid,
1.6275Their courtly coyness were but foolery.
Why, how watched you her, my lord?
When as she swept like Venus through the house,
1.6578And in her shape fast folded up my thoughts,
1.6679Into the milk-house went I with the maid,
1.6780And there amongst the cream bowls she did shine
1.6881As Pallas 'mongst her princely huswifery.
1.6982She turned her smock over her lily arms
1.7083And dived them into milk to run her cheese;
1.7184But whiter than the milk her crystal skin,
1.7285Checked with lines of azure, made her blush,
1.7386That art or nature durst bring for compare.
1.7487Ermsby, if thou hadst seen, as I did note it well,
1.7588How beauty played the huswife, how this girl
1.7689Like Lucrece laid her fingers to the work,
1.7790Thou wouldst with Tarquin hazard Rome and all
1.7891To win the lovely maid of Fressingfield.
Sirrah Ned, wouldst fain have her?
Ay, Rafe.
Why, Ned, I have laid the plot in my head. Thou
95shalt have her already.
I'll give thee a new coat an learn me that.
Why, sirrah Ned, we'll ride to Oxford to Friar Bacon. Oh,
98he is a brave scholar, sirrah. They say he is a brave necromancer,
99that he can make women of devils, and he can juggle cats into
100costermongers.
And how then, Rafe?
Marry, sirrah, thou shalt go to him, and because thy
103father Harry shall not miss thee, he shall turn me into thee; and
104I'll to the court and I'll prince it out, and he shall make thee
105either a silken purse full of gold or else a fine wrought smock.
But how shall I have the maid?
Marry, sirrah, if thou be'st a silken purse full of gold,
108then on Sundays she'll hang thee by her side, and you must not
109say a word. Now, sir, when she comes into a great press of people,
110for fear of the cutpurse on a sudden she'll swap thee into her
111placket; then, sirrah, being there you may plead for yourself.
Excellent policy!
But how if I be a wrought smock?
Then she'll put thee into her chest and lay thee
115into lavender, and upon some good day she'll put thee on, and at
116night when you go to bed, then being turned from a smock to a
117man, you may make up the match.
Wonderfully wisely counseled, Rafe.
Rafe shall have a new coat.
God thank you when I have it on my back, Ned.
Lacy, the fool hath laid a perfect plot
1.95122For why our country Margaret is so coy
1.96123And stands so much upon her honest points
1.97124That marriage or no market with the maid.
1.98125Ermsby, it must be necromantic spells
1.99126And charms of art that must enchain her love,
1.100127Or else shall Edward never win the girl.
1.101128Therefore, my wags, we'll horse us in the morn,
1.102129And post to Oxford to this jolly friar.
1.103130Bacon shall by his magic do this deed.
Content, my lord; and that's a speedy way
1.105132To wean these headstrong puppies from the teat.
I am unknown, not taken for the prince;
1.107134They only deem us frolic courtiers
1.108135That revel thus among our liege's game;
1.109136Therefore I have devised a policy.
1.110137Lacy, thou know'st next Friday is Saint James's,
1.111138And then the country flocks to Harleston Fair;
1.112139Then will the Keeper's daughter frolic there,
1.113140And overshine the troupe of all the maids
1.114141That come to see and to be seen that day.
1.115142Haunt thee, disguised among the country swains;
1.116143Feign thou'rt a farmer's son, not far from thence;
1.117144Espy her loves, and who she liketh best;
1.118145Cote him, and court her to control the clown.
1.119146Say that the courtier tiréd all in green,
1.120147That helped her handsomely to run her cheese
1.121148And filled her father's lodge with venison,
1.122149Commends him, and sends fairings to herself.
1.123150Buy something worthy of her parentage,
1.124151Not worth her beauty, for, Lacy, then the fair
1.125152Affords no jewel fitting for the maid.
1.126153And when thou talkest of me, note if she blush;
1.127154Oh, then she loves; but if her cheeks wax pale,
1.128155Disdain it is. Lacy, send how she fares,
1.129156And spare no time nor cost to win her loves.
I will, my lord, so execute this charge
1.131158As if that Lacy were in love with her.
Send letters speedily to Oxford of the news.
And, sirrah Lacy, buy me a thousand thousand
161million of fine bells.
What wilt thou do with them, Rafe?
Marry, every time that Ned sighs for the Keeper's
164daughter, I'll tie a bell about him, and so within three or four
165days I will send word to his father, Harry, that his son and my
166master Ned is become Love's morris dance.
Well, Lacy, look with care unto thy charge,
1.137168And I will haste to Oxford to the friar,
1.138169That he by art and thou by secret gifts
1.139170Mayst make me lord of merry Fressingfield.
God send your honor your heart's desire.
Enter Friar Bacon with Miles, his poor scholar, [following] with books 173under his arm; with them Burden, Mason, 174Clement, three doctors. Miles, where are you?
Hic sum doctissime et reverendissime doctor.
Attulisti nos libros meos de necromantia?
Ecce quam bonum et quam jocundum, habitares libros 179in unum. Now, masters of our academic state
2.6181That rule in Oxford viceroys in your place,
2.7182Whose heads contain maps of the liberal arts,
2.8183Spending your time in depth of learne}d skill,
2.9184Why flock you thus to Bacon's secret cell,
2.10185A friar newly stalled in Brazennose?
2.11186Say what's your mind that I may make reply.
Bacon, we hear that long we have suspect,
2.13188That thou art read in magic's mystery;
2.14189In pyromancy to divine by flames;
2.15190To tell by hydromancy ebbs and tides;
2.16191By aeromancy to discover doubts,
2.17192To plain out questions as Apollo did.
Well, Master Burden, what of all this?
Marry, sir, he doth but fulfill by rehearsing of these
195names the fable of the fox and the grapes: that which is above
196us pertains nothing to us.
I tell thee, Bacon, Oxford makes report,
2.21198Nay England, and the court of Henry says
2.22199Thou'rt making of a brazen head by art,
2.23200Which shall unfold strange doubts and aphorisms
2.24201And read a lecture in philosophy,
2.25202And by the help of devils and ghastly fiends,
2.26203Thou mean'st, ere many years or days be past,
2.27204To compass England with a wall of brass.
And what of this?
What of this, master? Why, he doth speak mystically,
207for he knows if your skill fail to make a brazen head, yet
208Mother Waters' strong ale will fit his turn to make him have a
209copper nose.
Bacon, we come not grieving at thy skill,
2.31211But joying that our academy yields
2.32212A man supposed the wonder of the world;
2.33213For if thy cunning work these miracles,
2.34214England and Europe shall admire thy fame,
2.35215And Oxford shall, in characters of brass
2.36216And statues such as were built up in Rome,
2.37217Eternize Friar Bacon for his art.
Then, gentle Friar, tell us thy intent.
Seeing you come as friends unto the friar,
2.40220Resolve you doctors, Bacon can by books
2.41221Make storming Boreas thunder from his cave,
2.42222And dim fair Luna to a dark eclipse;
2.43223The great arch-ruler, potentate of hell,
2.44224Trembles when Bacon bids him or his fiends
2.45225Bow to the force of his pentageron.
2.46226What art can work the frolic friar knows,
2.47227And therefore will I turn my magic books
2.48228And strain out necromancy to the deep.
2.49229I have contrived and framed a head of brass
2.50230(I made Belcephon hammer out the stuff)
2.51231And that by art shall read philosophy;
2.52232And I will strengthen England by my skill
2.53233That if ten Caesars lived and reigned in Rome,
2.54234With all the legions Europe doth contain,
2.55235They should not touch a grass of English ground.
2.56236The work that Ninus reared at Babylon,
2.57237The brazen walls framed by Semiramis,
2.58238Carved out like to the portal of the sun,
2.59239Shall not be such as rings the English strand
2.60240From Dover to the marketplace of Rye.
Is this possible?
I'll bring ye two or three witnesses.
What be those?
Marry, sir, three or four as honest devils and good
245companions as any be in hell.
No doubt but magic may do much in this,
2.66247For he that reads but mathematic rules
2.67248Shall find conclusions that avail to work
2.68249Wonders that pass the common sense of men.
But Bacon roves a bow beyond his reach,
2.70251And tells of more than magic can perform,
2.71252Thinking to get a fame by fooleries.
2.72253Have I not passed as far in state of schools
2.73254And read of many secrets? Yet to think
2.74255That heads of brass can utter any voice,
2.75256Or more, to tell of deep philosophy--
2.76257This is a fable Aesop had forgot.
Burden, thou wrong'st me in detracting thus;
2.78259Bacon loves not to stuff himself with lies.
2.79260But tell me 'fore these doctors, if thou dare,
2.80261Of certain questions I shall move to thee.
I will. Ask what thou can.
Marry, sir, he'll straight be on your pick-pack to
264know whether the feminine or the masculine gender be most
265worthy.
Were you not yesterday, Master Burden, at Henley
267upon the Thames?
I was. What then?
What book studied you thereon all night?
I? None at all; I read not there a line.
Then, doctors, Friar Bacon's art knows naught.
What say you to this, Master Burden? Doth he not
273touch you?
I pass not of his frivolous speeches.
Nay, Master Burden, my master, ere he hath done
276with you, will turn you from a doctor to a dunce, and shake you
277so small that he will leave no more learning in you than is in
278Balaam's ass.
Masters, for that learned Burden's skill is deep,
2.92280And sore he doubts of Bacon's cabalism,
2.93281I'll show you why he haunts to Henley oft,
2.94282Not, doctors, for to taste the fragrant air,
2.95283But there to spend the night in alchemy,
2.96284To multiply with secret spells of art;
2.97285Thus private steals he learning from us all.
2.98286To prove my sayings true, I'll show you straight
2.99287The book he keeps at Henley for himself.
Nay, now my master goes to conjuration, take heed.
Masters, stand still; fear not. I'll show you but his
290book.
2.103292Per omnes deos infernales Belcephon. 293Enter a woman with a shoulder of mutton 294on a spit and a devil. Oh, master, cease your conjuration or you spoil all, for
296here's a she-devil come with a shoulder of mutton on a spit. You
297have marred the devil's supper; but no doubt he thinks our
298college fare is slender and so hath sent you his cook with a
299shoulder of mutton to make it exceed.
Oh, where am I, or what's become of me?
What art thou?
Hostess at Henley, mistress of the Bell.
How cam'st thou here?
As I was in the kitchen 'mongst the maids,
2.110305Spitting the meat against supper for my guests,
2.111306A motion moved me to look forth of door.
2.112307No sooner had I pried into the yard
2.113308But straight a whirlwind hoisted me from thence,
2.114309And mounted me aloft unto the clouds.
2.115310As in a trance, I thought nor feare}d naught,
2.116311Nor know I where or whether I was ta'en,
2.117312Nor where I am, nor what these persons be.
No? Know you not Master Burden?
Oh yes, good sir, he is my daily guest.
2.120315What, Master Burden, t'was but yesternight
2.121316That you and I at Henley played at cards.
I know not what we did. A pox of all conjuring
Now, jolly friar, tell us, is this the book
2.125320that Burden is so careful to look on?
It is.-- But, Burden, tell me now,
2.127322Thinkest thou that Bacon's necromantic skill
2.128323Cannot perform his head and wall of brass,
2.129324When he can fetch thine hostess in such post?
I'll warrant you, master, if Master Burden could
326conjure as well as you, he would have his book every night from
327Henley to study on at Oxford.
Burden, what, are you mated by this frolic friar?--
2.132329Look how he droops; his guilty conscience
2.133330Drives him to bash and makes his hostess blush.
Well, mistress, for I will not have you missed,
2.135332You shall to Henley to cheer up your guests
2.136333'Fore supper 'gin.-- Burden, bid her adieu;
2.137334Say farewell to your hostess 'fore she goes.--
2.138335[To the devil] Sirrah, away, and set her safe at home!
Master Burden, when shall we see you at Henley?
The devil take thee and Henley too.
Master, shall I make a good motion?
What's that?
Marry, sir, now that my hostess is gone to provide
342supper, conjure up another spirit and send Doctor Burden
343flying after.
Thus, rulers of our academic state,
2.145345You have seen the friar frame his art by proof,
2.146346And as the college called Brazennose
2.147347Is under him and he the master there,
2.148348So surely shall this head of brass be framed
2.149349And yield forth strange and uncouth aphorisms;
2.150350And hell and Hecate shall fail the friar
2.151351But I will circle England round with brass.
So be it, et nunc et semper, amen.
Enter Margaret [and Joan], with Thomas, 355[Richard], and other clowns [following], [and] Lacy disguised in country 356apparel. By my troth, Margaret, here's a weather is able to
358make a man call his father whoreson. If this weather hold, we shall
359have hay good cheap and butter and cheese at Harleston will
360bear no price.
Thomas, maids when they come to see the fair
3.3362Count not to make a cope for dearth of hay.
3.4363When we have turned our butter to the salt
3.5364And set our cheese safely upon the racks,
3.6365Then let our fathers price it as they please.
3.7366We country sluts of merry Fressingfield
3.8367Come to buy needless naughts to make us fine,
3.9368And look that young men should be frank this day
3.10369And court us with such fairings as they can.
3.11370Phoebus is blithe and frolic looks from heaven
3.12371As when he courted lovely Semele,
3.13372Swearing the peddlers shall have empty packs
3.14373If that fair weather may make chapmen buy.
But, lovely Peggy, Semele is dead,
3.16375And therefore Phoebus from his palace pries,
3.17376And, seeing such a sweet and seemly saint,
3.18377Shows all his glories for to court yourself.
This is a fairing, gentle sir, indeed,
3.20379To soothe me up with such smooth flattery.
3.21380But learn of me, your scoffs too broad before.--
3.22381Well, Joan, our beauties must abide their jests;
3.23382We serve the turn in jolly Fressingfield .
Margaret, a farmer's daughter for a farmer's son;
3.25384I warrant you, the meanest of us both
3.26385Shall have a mate to lead us from the church.--
3.27386But, Thomas, what's the news? What, in a dump?
3.28387Give me your hand, we are near a peddler's shop.
3.29388Out with your purse, we must have fairings now.
Faith, Joan, and shall. I'll bestow a fairing on you, and
390then we will to the tavern and snap off a pint of wine or two.
3.30.1391All this while Lacy whispers Margaret in the ear. Whence are you sir? Of Suffolk? For your terms
3.32393are finer than the common sort of men.
Faith, lovely girl, I am of Beccles by,
3.34395Your neighbor, not above six miles from hence,
3.35396A farmer's son that never was so quaint
3.36397But that he could do courtesy to such dames.
3.37398But trust me, Margaret, I am sent in charge
3.38399From him that reveled in your father's house
3.39400And filled his lodge with cheer and venison,
3.40401Tiréd in green. He sent you this rich purse,
3.41402His token that he helped you run your cheese
3.42403And in the milk-house chatted with yourself.
To me? You forget yourself.
Women are often weak in memory.
Oh, pardon, sir, I call to mind the man.
3.46407'Twere little manners to refuse his gift,
3.47408And yet I hope he sends it not for love,
3.48409For we have little leisure to debate of that.
What, Margaret, blush not. Maids must have their
411loves.
Nay, by the mass, she looks pale as if she were
413angry.
Sirrah, are you of Beccles? I pray, how doth
415Goodman Cob? My father bought a horse of him.-- I'll tell you, Margaret,
416'a were good to be a gentleman's jade, for of all things the foul
417hilding could not abide a dung-cart.
How different is this farmer from the rest,
3.53419That erst as yet hath pleased my wandering sight!
3.54420His words are witty, quickened with a smile,
3.55421His courtesy gentle, smelling of the court;
3.56422Facile and debonair in all his deeds,
3.57423Proportioned as was Paris when in gray
3.58424He courted Oenone in the vale by Troy.
3.59425Great lords have come and pleaded for my love,
3.60426Who but the Keeper's lass of Fressingfield?
3.61427And yet methinks this farmer's jolly son
3.62428Passeth the proudest that hath pleased mine eye.
3.63429But, Peg, disclose not that thou art in love,
3.64430And show as yet no sign of love to him.
3.65431Although thou well wouldst wish him for thy love,
3.66432Keep that to thee till time doth serve thy turn
3.67433To show the grief wherein thy heart doth burn.--
3.68434Come, Joan and Thomas, shall we to the fair?--
3.69435You, Beccles man, will not forsake us now?
Not whilst I may have such quaint girls as you.
Well, if you chance to come by Fressingfield,
3.72438Make but a step into the Keeper's lodge,
3.73439And such poor fare as woodmen can afford,
3.74440Butter and cheese, cream, and fat venison
3.75441You shall have store, and welcome therewithal.
Gramercies, Peggy. Look for me ere long.
Enter [King Henry the Third of England], the Emperor [of Germany], the King of Castile, Eleanor 445his daughter, Jaques Vandermast, a German, [and other lords and attendants]. Great men of Europe, monarchs of the West,
4.2447Ringed with the walls of old Oceanus,
4.3448Whose lofty surge is like the battlements
4.4449That compassed high-built Babel in with towers,
4.5450Welcome, my lords, welcome brave western kings,
4.6451To England's shore, whose promontory cliffs
4.7452Shows Albion is another little world.
4.8453Welcome, says English Henry to you all,--
4.9454Chiefly unto the lovely Eleanor,
4.10455Who dared for Edward's sake cut through the seas
4.11456And venture as Agenor's damsel through the deep
4.12457To get the love of Henry's wanton son.
's rich monarch, brave Plantagenet,
4.14459The Pyren Mounts, swelling above the clouds,
4.15460That ward the wealthy Castile in with walls,
4.16461Could not detain the beauteous Eleanor;
4.17462But hearing of the fame of Edward's youth,
4.18463She dared to brook Neptunus's haughty pride,
4.19464And bide the brunt of froward Aeolus.
4.20465Then may fair England welcome her the more.
After that English Henry, by his lords,
4.22467Had sent Prince Edward's lovely counterfeit,
4.23468A present to the Castile Eleanor,
4.24469The comely portrait of so brave a man,
4.25470The virtuous fame discoursed of his deeds,
4.26471Edward's courageous resolution
4.27472Done at the Holy Land 'fore Damas's walls,
4.28473Led both mine eye and thought in equal links
4.29474To like so of the English monarch's son
4.30475That I attempted perils for his sake.
Where is the prince, my lord?
He posted down, not long since, from the court
4.33478To Suffolk side, to merry Framlingham,
4.34479To sport himself amongst my fallow deer.
4.35480From thence, by packets sent to Hampton House,
4.36481We hear the prince is ridden with his lords
4.37482To Oxford, in the academy there
4.38483To hear dispute amongst the learne}d men.
4.39484But we will send forth letters for my son
4.40485To will him come from Oxford to the court.
Nay, rather, Henry, let us as we be
4.42487Ride for to visit Oxford with our train.
4.43488Fain would I see your universities
4.44489And what learne}d men your academy yields.
4.45490From Hapsburg have I brought a learne}d clerk
4.46491To hold dispute with English orators.
4.47492This doctor, surnamed Jaques Vandermast,
4.48493A German born, passed into Padua,
4.49494To Florence, and to fair Bologna,
4.50495To Paris, Rheims, and stately Orleans,
4.51496And talking there with men of art, put down
4.52497The chiefest of them all in aphorisms,
4.53498In magic, and the mathematic rules.
4.54499Now let us, Henry, try him in your schools.
He shall, my lord; this motion likes me well.
4.56501We'll progress straight to Oxford with our trains,
4.57502And see what men our academy brings.--
4.58503And, wonder Vandermast, welcome to me.
4.59504In Oxford shalt thou find a jolly friar
4.60505Called Friar Bacon, England's only flower;
4.61506Set him but nonplus in his magic spells
4.62507And make him yield in mathematic rules,
4.63508And for thy glory I will bind thy brows,
4.64509Not with a poet's garland made of bays,
4.65510But with a coronet of choicest gold.
4.66511Whilst then we set to Oxford with our troops,
4.67512Let's in and banquet in our English court.
Enter Rafe Simnell in Edward's apparel, 514Edward [disguised as Rafe], Warren [and] Ermsby, disguised. [Posing as Prince Edward] Where be these vagabond knaves, that they attend
516no better on their master?
[As Rafe] If it please your honor, we are all ready at an inch.
Sirrah, Ned, I'll have no more post horse to ride on.
519I'll have another fetch.
I pray you, how is that, my lord?
Marry, sir, I'll send to the Isle of Ely for four or five
522dozen of geese, and I'll have them tied six and six together with
523whipcord. Now upon their backs will I have a fair field bed
524with a canopy; and so when it is my pleasure, I'll flee into what
525place I please. This will be easy.
Your honor hath said well, but shall we to
527Brazennose College before we pull off our boots?
Warren, well motioned; we will to the friar
5.8529Before we revel it within the town.--
5.9530Rafe, see you keep your countenance like a prince.
Wherefore have I such a company of cutting knaves
532to wait upon me but to keep and defend my countenance against
533all mine enemies?
[To the others] Have you not good swords and bucklers?
Stay, who comes here?
Some scholar, and we'll ask him where Friar
537Bacon is.
[To Miles] Why, thou errant dunce, shall I never make thee good
539scholar? Doth not all the town cry out and say Friar Bacon's
540subsizar is the greatest blockhead in all Oxford? Why, thou canst
541not speak one word of true Latin.
No, sir? Yes; what is this else?
Ego sum tuus homo: "I am
543your man." I warrant you, sir, as good Tully's phrase as any is in
544Oxford.
Come on, sirrah, what part of speech is ego?
Ego, that is "I". Marry, nomen substantivo.
How prove you that?
Why, sir, let him prove himself and 'a will. "I" can be
549heard, felt, and understood.
Oh, gross dunce!
Come, let us break off this dispute between these two.--
553[To Miles] Sirrah, where is Brazennose College?
Not far from Coppersmiths' Hall.
What, dost thou mock me?
Not I, sir. But what would you at Brazennose?
Marry, we would speak with Friar Bacon.
Whose men be you?
[Pointing to Rafe] Marry, scholar, here's our master.
Sirrah, I am the master of these good fellows. Mayst
561thou not know me to be a lord by my reparel?
Then here's good game for the hawk, for here's the
563master fool and a covey of coxcombs. One wise man, I think,
564would spring you all.
Gog's wounds! Warren, kill him.
5.29.1[Bacon charms them by magic, so that they are powerless to draw their swords.] Why, Ned, I think the devil be in my sheath.
I 567cannot get out my dagger. Nor I mine. 'Swounds, Ned, I think I am bewitched.
A company of scabs. The proudest of you all draw
570your weapon, if he can.--
571[To the audience] See how boldly I speak now my master is by.
I strive in vain, but if my sword be shut,
5.34573And conjured fast by magic in my sheath,
Oh, I beseech you, conjure his hands, too, that he may
577not lift his arms to his head, for he is light-fingered!
Ned, strike him. I'll warrant thee by mine honor.
What means the English prince to wrong my man?
To whom speakest thou?
To thee.
Who art thou?
Could you not judge when all your swords grew fast
5.43584That Friar Bacon was not far from hence?
5.44585Edward, King Henry's son and prince of Wales,
5.45586Thy fool disguised cannot conceal thyself.
5.46587I know both Ermsby and the Sussex earl,
5.47588Else Friar Bacon had but little skill.
5.48589Thou comest in post from merryFressingfield,
5.49590Fast fancied to the Keeper's bonny lass,
5.50591To crave some succor of the jolly friar;
5.51592And Lacy, earl of Lincoln, hast thou left
5.52593To treat fair Margaret to allow thy loves;
5.53594But friends are men, and love can baffle lords.
5.54595The earl both woos and courts her for himself.
Ned, this is strange. The friar knoweth all.
Apollo could not utter more than this.
I stand amazed to hear this jolly friar
5.58599Tell even the very secrets of my thoughts.
5.59600But learne}d Bacon, since thou knowest the cause
5.60601Why I did post so fast from Fressingfield,
5.61602Help, friar, at a pinch, that I may have
5.62603The love of lovely Margaret to myself;
5.63604And, as I am true prince of Wales, I'll give
5.64605Living and lands to strength thy college state.
Good friar, help the prince in this.
Why, servant Ned, will not the friar do it? Were
608not my sword glued to my scabbard by conjuration, I would cut
609off his head and make him do it by force.
In faith, my lord, your manhood and your sword is all
611alike: they are so fast conjured that we shall never see them.
What, doctor, in a dump? Tush, help the prince,
5.69613And thou shalt see how liberal he will prove.
[Aside] Crave not such actions greater dumps than these?--
5.71615[To Edward] I will, my lord, strain out my magic spells,
5.72616For this day comes the earl to Fressingfield,
5.73617And 'fore that night shuts in the day with dark
5.74618They'll be betrothed each to other fast.
5.75619But come with me; we'll to my study straight,
5.76620And in a glass prospective I will show
5.77621What's done this day in merryFressingfield.
Gramercies, Bacon. I will quite thy pain.
But send your train, my lord, into the town;
5.80624My scholar shall go bring them to their inn.
5.81625Meanwhile we'll see the knavery of the earl.
Warren, leave me; and Ermsby, take the fool;
5.83627Let him be master and go revel it
5.84628Till I and Friar Bacon talk awhile.
We will, my lord.
Faith, Ned, and I'll lord it out 'til thou comest. I'll be
631prince of Wales over all the black pots in Oxford.
5.86.1632Exeunt [all except Bacon and Edward]. Now, frolic Edward, welcome to my cell.
5.88635Here tempers Friar Bacon many toys,
5.89636And holds this place his consistory court
5.90637Wherein the devils plead homage to his words.
5.91638Within this glass prospective thou shalt see
5.92639This day what's done in merry Fressingfield
5.93640'Twixt lovely Peggy and the Lincoln earl.
Friar, thou gladst me. Now shall Edward try
5.95642How Lacy meaneth to his sovereign lord.
Stand there, and look directly in the glass.
5.96.1644Enter Margaret and Friar Bungay [visible through the glass, though Edward cannot hear them]. What sees my lord?
I see the Keeper's lovely lass appear,
5.99647As brightsome as the paramour of Mars,
Sit still, and keep the crystal in your eye.
But tell me, Friar Bungay, is it true
5.103651That this fair courteous country swain,
5.104652Who says his father is a farmer nigh,
5.105653Can be Lord Lacy, earl of Lincolnshire?
Peggy, 'tis true, 'tis Lacy for my life,
5.107655Or else mine art and cunning both doth fail,
5.108656Left by Prince Edward to procure his loves;
5.109657For he in green that holp you run your cheese
5.110658Is son to Henry, and the prince of Wales.
Be what he will, his lure is but for lust.
5.112660But did Lord Lacy like poor Margaret,
5.113661Or would he deign to wed a country lass,
5.114662Friar, I would his humble handmaid be,
5.115663And for great wealth quite him with courtesy.
Why, Margaret, dost thou love him?
His personage, like the pride of vaunting Troy,
5.118666Might well avouch to shadow Helen's scape;
5.119667His wit is quick and ready in conceit,
5.120668As Greece afforded in her chiefest prime.
5.121669Courteous -- ah, friar! Full of pleasing smiles.
5.122670Trust me, I love too much to tell thee more.
5.123671Suffice to me he is England's paramour.
Hath not each eye that viewed thy pleasing face
5.125673Surnamèd thee fair maid of Fressingfield?
Yes, Bungay, and would God the lovely earl
5.127675Had that
in esse that so many sought.
Fear not. The friar will not be behind
5.129677To show his cunning to entangle love.
[To Bacon] I think the friar courts the bonny wench;
5.131679Bacon, methinks he is a lusty churl!
Now look, my lord.
Gog's wounds, Bacon, here comes Lacy!
Sit still, my lord, and mark the comedy.
Here's Lacy. Margaret, step aside awhile.
5.135.1[They stand aside and watch Lacy.] Daphne, the damsel that caught Phoebus fast
5.137686And locked him in the brightness of her looks,
5.138687Was not so beauteous in Apollo's eyes
5.139688As is fair Margaret to the Lincoln earl.
5.140689Recant thee, Lacy! Thou art put in trust.
5.141690Edward, thy sovereign's son, hath chosen thee
5.142691A secret friend to court her for himself,
5.143692And darest thou wrong thy prince with treachery?
5.144693Lacy, love makes no exception of a friend,
5.145694Nor deems it of a prince but as a man.
5.146695Honor bids thee control him in his lust.
5.147696His wooing is not for to wed the girl,
5.148697But to entrap her and beguile the lass.
5.149698Lacy, thou lovest. Then brook not such abuse,
5.150699But wed her, and abide thy prince's frown;
5.151700For better die than see her live disgraced.
Come, friar, I will shake him from his dumps.
5.153702How cheer you, sir? A penny for your thought?
5.154703You're early up. Pray God it be the near.
5.155704What, come from Beccles in a morn so soon?
Thus watchful are such men as live in love,
5.157706Whose eyes brook broken slumbers for their sleep.
5.158707I tell thee, Peggy, since last Harleston Fair
5.159708My mind hath felt a heap of passions.
A trusty man, that court it for your friend.
5.161710Woo you still for the courtier all in green?
5.162711I marvel that he sues not for himself.
Peggy, I pleaded first to get your grace for him,
5.164713But when mine eyes surveyed your beauteous looks,
5.165714Love, like a wag, straight dived into my heart,
5.166715And there did shrine the idea of yourself.
5.167716Pity me, though I be a farmer's son,
5.168717And measure not my riches but my love.
You are very hasty, for to garden well
5.170719Seeds must have time to sprout before they spring;
5.171720Love ought to creep as doth the dial's shade,
5.172721For timely ripe is rotten too too soon.
Deus hic. Room for a merry friar.
5.174723What, youth of Beccles, with the Keeper's lass?
5.175724'Tis well. But tell me, hear you any news?
No, friar. What news?
Hear you not how the pursuivants do post
5.178727With proclamations through each country town?
For what, gentle friar? Tell the news.
Dwell'st thou in Beccles and hear'st not of these news?
5.181730Lacy, the earl of Lincoln is late fled
5.182731From Windsor court disguised like a swain,
5.183732And lurks about the country here unknown.
5.184733Henry suspects him of some treachery,
5.185734And therefore doth proclaim in every way
5.186735That who can take the Lincoln earl shall have
5.187736Paid in the Exchequer twenty thousand crowns.
The earl of Lincoln? Friar, thou art mad.
5.189738It was some other; thou mistakest the man.
5.190739The earl of Lincoln? Why, it cannot be.
Yes, very well, my lord, for you are he.
5.192741The Keeper's daughter took you prisoner.
5.193742Lord Lacy, yield. I'll be your jailer once.
How familiar they be, Bacon!
Sit still and mark the sequel of their loves.
Then am I double prisoner to thyself.
5.197746Peggy, I yield. But are these news in jest?
In jest with you, but earnest unto me,
5.199748For why these wrongs do wring me at the heart.
5.200749Ah, how these earls and noble men of birth
5.201750Flatter and feign to forge poor women's ill!
Believe me, lass, I am the Lincoln earl.
5.203752I not deny but tirèd thus in rags
5.204753I lived disguised to win fair Peggy's love.
What love is there where wedding ends not love?
I meant, fair girl, to make thee Lacy's wife.
I little think that earls will stoop so low.
Say, shall I make thee countess ere I sleep?
Handmaid unto the earl, so please himself;
5.210759A wife in name but servant in obedience.
The Lincoln countess, for it shall be so.
5.212761I'll plight the bands and seal it with a kiss.
[They kiss.] Gog's wounds, Bacon, they kiss! I'll stab them! [Edward threatens to stab the prospective glass.]
Oh, hold your hands, my lord, it is the glass!
Choler, to see the traitors gree so well
5.216765Made me think the shadows substances.
'Twere a long poniard, my lord, to reach between
5.218767Oxford and Fressingfield. But sit still and see more.
Well, lord of Lincoln, if your loves be knit,
5.220769And that your tongues and thoughts do both agree,
5.221770To avoid ensuing jars, I'll hamper up the match.
5.222771I'll take my portace forth and wed you here.
5.223772Then, go to bed and seal up your desires.
Friar, content. Peggy, how like you this?
What likes my lord is pleasing unto me.
Then handfast hand, and I will to my book.
[To Edward] What sees my lord now?
Bacon, I see the lovers hand in hand,
5.229778The friar ready with his portace there
5.230779To wed them both; then am I quite undone.
5.231780Bacon, help now, if e'er thy magic served!
5.232781Help, Bacon, stop the marriage now,
5.233782If devils or necromancy may suffice
5.234783And I will give thee forty thousand crowns!
Fear not, my lord, I'll stop the jolly friar
5.236785For mumbling up his orisons this day.
[Bacon puts a spell on Bungay.] Why speak'st not, Bungay? Friar, to thy book.
How lookest thou, friar, as a man distraught?
5.239789Reft of thy senses, Bungay? Show by signs,
5.240790If thou be dumb, what passions holdeth thee.
He's dumb indeed. Bacon hath with his devils
5.242792Enchanted him, or else some strange disease
5.243793Or apoplexy hath possessed his lungs.
5.244794But, Peggy, what he cannot with his book,
5.245795We'll 'twixt us both unite it up in heart.
Else let me die, my lord, a miscreant.
Why stands Friar Bungay so amazed?
I have struck him dumb, my lord, and if your honor please,
5.249799I'll fetch this Bungay straightway from Fressingfield,
5.250800And he shall dine with us in Oxford here.
Bacon, do that and thou contentest me.
Of courtesy, Margaret, let us lead the friar
5.253803Unto thy father's lodge, to comfort him
5.254804With broths, to bring him from this hapless trance.
Or else, my lord, we were passing unkind
5.256806To leave the friar so in his distress.
5.256.1807Enter a devil [who carries Bungay away on his back]. Oh help, my lord, a devil! A devil, my lord!
5.258809Look how he carries Bungay on his back!
5.259810Let's hence, for Bacon's spirits be abroad.
Bacon, I laugh to see the jolly friar
5.261813Mounted upon the devil, and how the earl
5.262814Flees with his bonny lass for fear.
5.263815As soon as Bungay is at Brazennose
5.264816And I have chatted with the merry friar,
5.265817I will in post hie me to Fressingfield
5.266818And quite these wrongs on Lacy ere it be long.
So be it, my lord. But let us to our dinner,
5.268820For ere we have taken our repast awhile,
5.269821We shall have Bungay brought to Brazennose.
Enter three doctors: Burden, Mason, 824[and] Clement. Now that we are gathered in the Regent House,
6.2826It fits us talk about the king's repair,
6.3827For he, trooped with all the western kings
6.4828That lie alongst the Danzig seas by east,
6.5829North by the clime of frosty Germany,
6.6830The Almain monarch, and the Saxon duke,
6.7831Castile, and lovely Eleanor with him,
6.8832Have in their jests resolved for Oxford town.
We must lay plots of stately tragedies,
6.10834Strange comic shows such as proud Roscius
6.11835Vaunted before the Roman emperors.
To welcome all the western potentates.
6.13837But more, the king by letters hath foretold
6.14838That Frederick, the Almain Emperor,
6.15839Hath brought with him a German of esteem
6.16840Whose surname is Don Jaques Vandermast,
6.17841Skillful in magic and those secret arts.
Then must we all make suit unto the friar,
6.19843To Friar Bacon, that he vouch this task,
6.20844And undertake to countervail in skill
6.21845The German, else there's none in Oxford can
6.22846Match and dispute with learne}d Vandermast.
Bacon, if he will hold the German play,
6.24848Will teach him what an English friar can do.
6.25849The devil, I think, dare not dispute with him.
Indeed, Mas Doctor, he displeasured you,
6.27851In that he brought your hostess with her spit
6.28852From Henley posting unto Brazennose.
A vengeance on the friar for his pains!
6.30854But leaving that, let's hie to Bacon straight,
6.31855To see if he will take this task in hand.
Stay, what rumor is this? The town is up in a
857mutiny. What hurly-burly is this?
6.32.1858Enter a Constable, with Rafe, Warren, [and] Ermsby [all three disguised as before]859and Miles. Nay, masters, if you were ne'er so good, you shall
861before the doctors to answer your misdemeanor.
What's the matter, fellow?
Marry, sir, here's a company of rufflers that,
864drinking in the tavern, have made a great brawl and almost killed
865the vintner.
Salve, Doctor Burden. This lubberly lurdan,
6.37867Ill-shaped and ill-faced, disdained and disgraced,
6.38868What he tells unto
vobis, mentitur de nobis. Who is the master and chief of this crew?
[Pointing to Rafe]Ecce asinum mundi, figura rotundi,
6.41871Neat, sheat, and fine, as brisk as a cup of wine.
[To Rafe] What are you?
I am, father doctor, as a man would say, the
874bellwether of this company. These are my lords, and I the prince of Wales.
Are you Edward, the king's son?
Sirrah Miles, bring hither the tapster that drew the
877wine, and I warrant when they see how soundly I have broke his
878head, they'll say 'twas done by no less man than a prince.
I cannot believe that this is the prince of Wales.
And why so, sir?
For they say the prince is a brave and a wise gentleman.
Why, and thinkest thou, doctor, that he is not so?
6.50883Dar'st thou detract and derogate from him,
6.51884Being so lovely and so brave a youth?
Whose face shining with many a sugared smile
6.53886Bewrays that he is bred of princely race?
And yet, master doctor, to speak like a proctor,
6.55888And tell unto you, what is veriment and true,
6.56889To cease of this quarrel, look but on his apparel,
6.57890Then mark but my tales, he is great prince of Wales,
6.58891The chief of our
gregis, and
filius regis.
6.59892Then 'ware what is done, for he is Henry's white son.
Doctors, whose doting nightcaps are not capable of
894my ingenious dignity, know that I am Edward Plantagenet,
895whom if you displease will make a ship that shall hold all your
896colleges, and so carry away the Niniversity with a fair wind to
897the Bankside in Southwark.-- How say'st thou, Ned Warren,
898shall I not do it?
Yes, my good lord, and if it please your lordship,
900I will gather up all your old pantofles, and with the cork make
901you a pinnace of five hundred ton that shall serve the turn
902marvelous well, my lord.
And I, my lord, will have pioneers to undermine the
904town, that the very gardens and orchards be carried away for
905your summer walks.
And I with scientia, and great diligentia,
6.64907Will conjure and charm, to keep you from harm,
6.65908That
utrum horum mavis, your very great
navis, 6.66909Like Bartlet's ship, from Oxford do skip,
6.67910With colleges and schools, full loaden with fools.
6.68911Quid dicis ad hoc, worshipful
Domine Dawcock?
Why, harebrained courtiers, are you drunk or mad
6.70913To taunt us up with such scurrility?
6.71914Deem you us men of base and light esteem
6.72915To bring us such a fop for Henry's son?--
6.73916Call out the beadles and convey them hence,
6.74917Straight to Bocardo. Let the roisters lie
6.75918Close clapped in bolts until their wits be tame.
Why, shall we to prison, my lord?
What say'st, Miles? Shall I honor the prison with my presence?
No, no! Out with your blades, and hamper these jades;
6.79922Have a flirt and a crash, now play revel-dash,
6.80923And teach these
sacerdos, that the Bocardos,
6.81924Like peasants and elves, are meet for themselves.
To the prison with them, constable.
Well, doctors, seeing I have sported me
6.84927With laughing at these mad and merry wags,
6.85928Know that Prince Edward is at Brazennose,
6.86929[Pointing to Rafe]And this, attired like the prince of Wales,
6.87930Is Rafe, King Henry's only love}d fool;
6.88931I, earl of Sussex, and this, Ermsby,
6.89932One of the privy chamber to the king,
6.90933Who, while the prince with Friar Bacon stays,
6.91934Have reveled it in Oxford as you see.
My lord, pardon us, we knew not what you were.
6.93936But courtiers may make greater scapes than these.
6.94937Will't please your honor dine with me today?
I will, master doctor, and satisfy the vintner for his
939hurt. Only I must desire you to imagine him
[pointing to Rafe] all this forenoon the
940prince of Wales.
I will, sir.
And upon that I will lead the way; only I will have
943Miles go before me because I have heard Henry say that
944wisdom must go before majesty.
Enter Prince Edward with his poniard in his hand, Lacy, 946and Margaret. Lacy, thou canst not shroud thy traitorous thoughts,
7.2948Nor cover, as did Cassius, all thy wiles,
7.3949For Edward hath an eye that looks as far
7.4950As Lynceus from the shores of Grecia.
7.5951Did not I sit in Oxford by the friar
7.6952And see thee court the maid of Fressingfield,
7.7953Sealing thy flattering fancies with a kiss?
7.8954Did not proud Bungay draw his portace forth,
7.9955And, joining hand in hand, had married you,
7.10956If Friar Bacon had not struck him dumb
7.11957And mounted him upon a spirit's back
7.12958That we might chat at Oxford with the friar?
7.13959Traitor, what answer'st? Is not all this true?
Truth all, my lord, and thus I make reply:
7.15961At Harleston Fair, there courting for your grace,
7.16962Whenas mine eye surveyed her curious shape,
7.17963And drew the beauteous glory of her looks
7.18964To dive into the center of my heart,
7.19965Love taught me that your honor did but jest,
7.20966That princes were in fancy but as men,
7.21967How that the lovely maid of Fressingfield
7.22968Was fitter to be Lacy's wedded wife
7.23969Than concubine unto the prince of Wales.
Injurious Lacy, did I love thee more
7.25971Than Alexander his Hephestion?
7.26972Did I unfold the passions of my love
7.27973And lock them in the closet of thy thoughts?
7.28974Wert thou to Edward second to himself,
7.29975Sole friend, and partner of his secret loves?
7.30976And could a glance of fading beauty break
7.31977The enchained fetters of such private friends?
7.32978Base coward, false, and too effeminate
7.33979To be corrival with a prince in thoughts!
7.34980From Oxford have I posted since I dined
7.35981To quite a traitor 'fore that Edward sleep.
'Twas I, my lord, not Lacy, stepped awry;
7.37983For oft he sued and courted for yourself,
7.38984And still wooed for the courtier all in green,
7.39985But I, whom fancy made but overfond,
7.40986Pleaded myself with looks as if I loved.
7.41987I fed mine eye with gazing on his face,
7.42988And, still bewitched, loved Lacy with my looks.
7.43989My heart with sighs, mine eyes pleaded with tears,
7.44990My face held pity and content at once,
7.45991And more I could not cipher out by signs
7.46992But that I loved Lord Lacy with my heart.
7.47993Then, worthy Edward, measure with thy mind
7.48994If women's favors will not force men fall,
7.49995If beauty and if darts of piercing love
7.50996Are not of force to bury thoughts of friends.
I tell thee, Peggy, I will have thy loves.
7.52998Edward or none shall conquer Margaret.
7.53999In frigates bottomed with rich sethin planks,
7.541000Topped with the lofty firs of Lebanon,
7.551001Stemmed and incased with burnished ivory,
7.561002And overlaid with plates of Persian wealth,
7.571003Like Thetis shalt thou wanton on the waves
7.581004And draw the dolphins to thy lovely eyes
7.591005To dance lavoltas in the purple streams.
7.601006Sirens with harps and silver psalteries
7.611007Shall wait with music at thy frigate's stem
7.621008And entertain fair Margaret with their lays.
7.631009England and England's wealth shall wait on thee;
7.641010Britain shall bend unto her prince's love,
7.651011And do due homage to thine excellence
7.661012If thou wilt be but Edward's Margaret.
Pardon, my lord. If Jove's great royalty
7.681014Sent me such presents as to Danaë,
7.691015If Phoebus, tiréd in Latona's webs,
7.701016Came courting from the beauty of his lodge,
7.711017The dulcet tunes of frolic Mercury
7.721018Nor all the wealth heaven's treasury affords
7.731019Should make me leave Lord Lacy or his love.
I have learned at Oxford, then, this point of schools:
7.751021Ablata causa, tollitur effectus: 7.761022Lacy, the cause that Margaret cannot love
7.771023Nor fix her liking on the English prince,
7.781024Take him away, and then the effects will fail.
7.791025Villain, prepare thyself, for I will bathe
7.801026My poniard in the bosom of an earl.
[Kneeling] Rather than live and miss fair Margaret's love,
7.821028Prince Edward, stop not at the fatal doom,
7.831029But stab it home. End both my loves and life.
[Kneeling] Brave prince of Wales, honored for royal deeds,
7.851031'Twere sin to stain fair Venus's courts with blood.
7.861032Love's conquest ends, my lord, in courtesy.
7.871033Spare Lacy, gentle Edward; let me die.
7.881034For so both you and he do cease your loves.
Lacy shall die as traitor to his lord.
I have deserved it, Edward; act it well.
What hopes the prince to gain by Lacy's death?
To end the loves 'twixt him and Margaret.
Why, thinks King Henry's son that Margaret's love
7.941040Hangs in the uncertain balance of proud time?
7.951041That death shall make a discord of our thoughts?
7.961042No! Stab the earl and 'fore the morning sun
7.971043Shall vaunt him thrice over the lofty east,
7.981044Margaret will meet her Lacy in the heavens.
If aught betides to lovely Margaret
7.1001046That wrongs or wrings her honor from content,
7.1011047Europe's rich wealth nor England's monarchy,
7.1031049Then, Edward, short my life and end her loves.
Rid me, and keep a friend worth many loves.
Nay, Edward, keep a love worth many friends.
And if thy mind be such as fame hath blazed,
7.1071053Then, princely Edward, let us both abide
7.1091055Banish thou fancy and embrace revenge,
7.1101056And in one tomb knit both our carcasses,
7.1111057Whose hearts were linke}d in one perfect love.
Edward, art thou that famous prince of Wales
7.1141060And brought'st home triumph on thy lance's point,
7.1151061And shall thy plumes be pulled by Venus down?
7.1161062Is it princely to dissever lovers' leagues,
7.1171063To part such friends as glory in their loves?
7.1181064Leave, Ned, and make a virtue of this fault,
7.1191065And further Peg and Lacy in their loves.
7.1211067Conquering thyself, thou get'st the richest spoil.--
7.1221068Lacy, rise up.-- Fair Peggy, here's my hand.
7.1231069The prince of Wales hath conquered all his thoughts,
7.1241070And all his loves he yields unto the earl.
7.1251071Lacy, enjoy the maid of Fressingfield;
7.1261072Make her thy Lincoln countess at the church,
7.1281074Will give her to thee frankly for thy wife.
Humbly I take her of my sovereign,
7.1301076As if that Edward gave me England's right,
7.1311077And riched me with the Albion diadem.
And doth the English prince mean true?
7.1331079Will he vouchsafe to cease his former loves,
7.1341080And yield the title of a country maid
I will, fair Peggy, as I am true lord.
Then, lordly sir, whose conquest is as great
7.1381084In conquering love as Caesar's victories,
7.1391085Margaret, as mild and humble in her thoughts
7.1411087Yields thanks, and next Lord Lacy, doth enshrine
7.1421088Edward the second secret in her heart.
Gramercy, Peggy. Now that vows are past,
7.1441090And that your loves are not to be revolt,
7.1451091Once, Lacy, friends again, come, we will post
7.1461092To Oxford, for this day the king is there,
7.1471093And brings for Edward Castile Eleanor.
7.1481094Peggy, I must go see and view my wife;
7.1491095I pray God I like her as I loved thee.
7.1501096Beside, Lord Lincoln, we shall hear dispute
7.1511097'Twixt Friar Bacon and learne}d Vandermast.
7.1521098Peggy, we'll leave you for a week or two.
As it please Lord Lacy; but love's foolish looks
7.1541100Think footsteps miles and minutes to be hours.
I'll hasten, Peggy, to make short return.--
7.1561102But please, your honor, go unto the lodge.
7.1571103We shall have butter, cheese, and venison,
7.1581104And yesterday I brought for Margaret
7.1601106Thus can we feast and entertain your grace.
'Tis cheer, Lord Lacy, for an emperor
7.1621108If he respect the person and the place.
7.1631109Come, let us in, for I will all this night
7.1641110Ride post until I come to Bacon's cell.
Enter [King] Henry, [the] Emperor [of Germany], [the King of] Castile, [the Duke of Saxony], Eleanor, 1113Vandermast, Bungay, [and other lords and attendants]. Trust me, Plantagenet, these Oxford schools
8.21115Are richly seated near the river side,
8.31116The mountains full of fat and fallow deer,
8.41117The battling pastures laid with kine and flocks,
8.51118The town gorgeous with high-built colleges,
8.61119And scholars seemly in their grave attire,
8.71120Learnéd in searching principles of art.--
8.81121What is thy judgment, Jaques Vandermast?
That lordly are the buildings of the town,
8.101123Spacious the rooms and full of pleasant walks;
8.111124But for the doctors, how that they be learned,
8.121125It may be meanly for aught I can hear.
I tell thee, German, Hapsburg holds none such,
8.141127None read so deep as Oxenford contains.
8.151128There are within our academic state
8.161129Men that may lecture it in Germany
8.171130To all the doctors of your Belgic schools.
Stand to him, Bungay. Charm this Vandermast
8.191132And I will use thee as a royal king.
8.19.1[King Henry and the nobles sit.] Wherein darest thou dispute with me?
In what a doctor and a friar can.
Before rich Europe's worthies put thou forth
8.231136The doubtful question unto Vandermast.
Let it be this: whether the spirits of pyromancy
1138or geomancy be most predominant in magic.
I say of pyromancy.
And I of geomancy.
The cabbalists that write of magic spells,
8.281142As Hermes, Melchie, and Pythagorus,
8.291143Affirm that 'mongst the quadruplicity
8.301144Of elemental essence,
Terra is but thought
8.311145To be a
punctum square}d to the rest;
8.321146And that the compass of ascending elements
8.331147Exceed in bigness as they do in height,
8.341148Judging the concave circle of the sun
8.351149To hold the rest in his circumference.
8.361150If then, as Hermes says, the fire be greatest,
8.371151Purest, and only giveth shapes to spirits,
8.381152Then must these demons that haunt that place
8.391153Be every way superior to the rest.
I reason not of elemental shapes,
8.411155Nor tell I of the concave latitudes,
8.421156Noting their essence nor their quality,
8.431157But of the spirits that pyromancy calls,
8.441158And of the vigor of the geomantic fiends.
8.451159I tell thee, German, magic haunts the grounds,
8.461160And those strange necromantic spells
8.471161That work such shows and wondering in the world
8.481162Are acted by those geomantic spirits
8.491163That Hermes calleth
terrae filii. 8.501164The fiery spirits are but transparent shades
8.511165That lightly pass as heralds to bear news;
8.521166But earthly fiends, closed in the lowest deep,
8.531167Dissever mountains if they be but charged,
8.541168Being more gross and massy in their power.
Rather these earthly geomantic spirits
8.561170Are dull and like the place where they remain;
8.571171For when proud Lucifer fell from the heavens,
8.581172The spirits and angels that did sin with him
8.591173Retained their local essence as their faults,
8.601174All subject under Luna's continent.
8.611175They which offended less hung in the fire,
8.621176And second faults did rest within the air;
8.631177But Lucifer and his proud-hearted fiends
8.641178Were thrown into the center of the earth,
8.651179Having less understanding than the rest,
8.661180As having greater sin and lesser grace.
8.671181Therefore, such gross and earthly spirits do serve
8.681182For jugglers, witches, and vile sorcerers,
8.701184Are mighty, swift, and of far-reaching power.
8.711185But grant that geomancy hath most force;
8.721186Bungay, to please these mighty potentates,
8.731187Prove by some instance what thy art can do.
I will.
Now, English Harry, here begins the game;
8.761190We shall see sport between these learne}d men.
What wilt thou do?
Show thee the tree leaved with refine}d gold,
8.791193Whereon the fearful dragon held his seat
8.801194That watched the garden called Hesperides,
8.811195Subdued and won by conquering Hercules.
Well done.
8.82.11197Here Bungay conjures and the tree appears with 1198the dragon shooting fire. What say you, royal lordings, to my friar?
8.841200Hath he not done a point of cunning skill?
Each scholar in the necromantic spells
8.861202Can do as much as Bungay hath performed.
8.871203But as Alcmena's bastard razed this tree,
8.881204So will I raise him up as when he lived,
8.891205And cause him pull the dragon from his seat,
8.901206And tear the branches piecemeal from the root.--
8.911207Hercules,
prodi, prodi, Hercules!
Quis me vult?
Jove's bastard son, thou Lybian Hercules,
8.941211Pull off the sprigs from off the Hesperian tree,
8.951212As once thou did'st to win the golden fruit.
Fiat.
Now, Bungay, if thou canst by magic charm
8.981216The fiend appearing like great Hercules
8.991217From pulling down the branches of the tree,
8.1001218Then art thou worthy to be counted learned.
I cannot.
Cease, Hercules, until I give thee charge. [Hercules ceases.]
8.1031221[To King Henry] Mighty commander of this English isle,
8.1041222Henry, come from the stout Plantagenets,
8.1051223Bungay is learned enough to be a friar,
8.1061224But to compare with Jaques Vandermast
8.1071225Oxford and Cambridge must go seek their cells
8.1081226To find a man to match him in his art.
8.1091227I have given
non-plus to the Paduans,
8.1101228To them of Siena, Florence, and Bologna,
8.1111229Rheims, Louvain, and fair Rotterdam,
8.1131231And now must Henry, if he do me right,
8.1141232Crown me with laurel as they all have done.
All hail to this royal company
8.1161235That sit to hear and see this strange dispute!--
8.1171236Bungay, how stand'st thou as a man amazed?
8.1181237What, hath the German acted more than thou?
What art thou that questions thus?
Men call me Bacon.
Lordly thou lookest, as if that thou wert learned;
8.1221241Thy countenance, as if science held her seat
8.1231242Between the circled arches of thy brows.
Now, monarchs, hath the German found his match.
Bestir thee, Jaques, take not now the foil,
8.1261245Lest thou dost lose what foretime thou didst gain.
Bacon, wilt thou dispute?
No, unless he were more learned than Vandermast;
8.1291248For yet tell me, what hast thou done?
Raised Hercules to ruinate that tree
8.1311250That Bungay mounted by his magic spells.
Set Hercules to work.
Now, Hercules, I charge thee to thy task.
8.1341253Pull off the golden branches from the root.
I dare not. See'st thou not great Bacon here,
8.1361255Whose frown doth act more than thy magic can?
By all the thrones and dominations,
8.1381257Virtues, powers, and mighty hierarchies,
8.1391258I charge thee to obey to Vandermast.
Bacon, that bridles headstrong Belcephon
8.1411260And rules Astaroth, guider of the north,
8.1421261Binds me from yielding unto Vandermast.
How now, Vandermast, have you met with your match?
Never before wast known to Vandermast
8.1451264That men held devils in such obedient awe.
8.1461265Bacon doth more than art, or else I fail.
Why, Vandermast, art thou overcome?
8.1481267Bacon, dispute with him and try his skill.
I come not, monarchs, for to hold dispute
8.1501269With such a novice as is Vandermast.
8.1511270I come to have your royalties to dine
8.1521271With Friar Bacon here in Brazennose;
8.1531272And for this German troubles but the place,
8.1541273And holds this audience with a long suspense,
8.1551274I'll send him to his academy hence.--
8.1561275Thou, Hercules, whom Vandermast did raise,
8.1571276Transport the German unto Hapsburg straight,
8.1581277That he may learn by travail, 'gainst the spring,
8.1591278More secret dooms and aphorisms of art.
8.1601279Vanish the tree and thou away with him!
8.160.11280Exit the spirit with Vandermast and the tree. Why, Bacon, whither dost thou send him?
To Hapsburg. There your highness at return
8.1631283Shall find the German in his study safe.
Bacon, thou hast honored England with thy skill,
8.1651285And made fair Oxford famous by thine art;
8.1671287But tell me, shall we dine with thee today?
With me, my lord; and while I fit my cheer,
8.1691289See where Prince Edward comes to welcome you,
1290Gracious as the morning star of heaven.
Is this Prince Edward, Henry's royal son?
8.1711293How martial is the figure of his face!
Ned, where hast thou been?
At Framlingham, my lord, to try your bucks
8.1751297If they could scape the teisers or the toil.
8.1761298But hearing of these lordly potentates
8.1771299Landed and progressed up to Oxford town,
8.1781300I posted to give entertain to them--
8.1791301Chief to the Almain monarch; next to him,
8.1801302And joint with him, Castile and Saxony
8.1811303Are welcome as they may be to the English court.
8.1821304Thus for the men.-- But see, Venus appears,
8.1831305Or one that over-matcheth Venus in her shape.
8.1841306Sweet Eleanor, beauty's high swelling pride,
8.1851307Rich nature's glory and her wealth at once,
8.1861308Fair of all fairs, welcome to Albion;
8.1871309Welcome to me, and welcome to thine own,
8.1881310If that thou deign'st the welcome from myself.
Martial Plantagenet, Henry's high-minded son,
8.1901312The mark that Eleanor did count her aim,
8.1911313I liked thee 'fore I saw thee, now I love,
8.1931315Yet so as time shall never break that ‘so,'
[To King Henry] Fear not, my lord, this couple will agree,
8.1961318If love may creep into their wanton eyes;--
8.1971319And therefore, Edward, I accept thee here,
8.1981320Without suspense, as my adopted son.
Let me that joy in these consorting greets,
8.2001322And glory in these honors done to Ned,
8.2011323Yield thanks for all these favors to my son,
8.202.11325Enter Miles with a cloth and trenchers and salt. Salvete omnes reges, that govern your greges! In Saxony and Spain, in England and in Almain; for all this frolic
8.2051328rabble must I cover the table, with trenchers, salt, and cloth, and
What pleasant fellow is this?
'Tis, my lord, Doctor Bacon's poor scholar.
[Aside] My master hath made me sewer of these great lords, 1333and God knows I am as serviceable at a table as a sow is under 1334an apple tree. 'Tis no matter; their cheer shall not be great, and 1335therefore what skills where the salt stand, before or behind?[Exit Miles.] These scholars know more skill in axioms,
8.2111337How to use quips and sleights of sophistry,
8.2121338Than for to cover courtly for a king.
8.212.11339Enter Miles with a mess of pottage and broth, 1340and after him Bacon. 8.214[Nearly dropping the dishes]Spill, sir? Why, do you think I never carried
1342two-penny chop before in my life? By your leave,
nobile decus, for
8.2151343here comes Doctor Bacon's
pecus, being in his full age, to carry a
Lordings, admire not if your cheer be this,
8.2191347No riot where philosophy doth reign,
8.2201348And therefore, Henry, place these potentates,
8.2211349And bid them fall unto their frugal cates.
Presumptuous friar! What, scoff'st thou at a king?
8.2231351Why dost thou taunt us with thy peasants' fare,
8.2241352And give us cates fit for country swains?--
8.2251353Henry, proceeds this jest of thy consent?
8.2261354To twit us with a pittance of such price?
8.2271355Tell me, and Frederick will not grieve thee long.
By Henry's honor and the royal faith
8.2291357The English monarch beareth to his friend,
8.2301358I knew not of the friar's feeble fare,
8.2311359Nor am I pleased he entertains you thus.
Content thee, Frederick, for I showed these cates
8.2331361To let thee see how scholars use to feed,
8.2341362How little meat refines our English wits.--
8.2351363Miles, take away, and let it be thy dinner.
Marry, sir, I will. This day shall be a festival day with me,
1365For I shall exceed in the highest degree.
I tell thee, monarch, all the German peers
8.2381367Could not afford thy entertainment such,
8.2411370The basest waiter that attends thy cups
8.2421371Shall be in honors greater than thyself.
8.2431372And for thy cates rich Alexandria drugs,
8.2441373Fetched by carvels from Egypt's richest straits,
8.2451374Found in the wealthy strand of Africa,
8.2461375Shall royalize the table of my king.
8.2471376Wines richer than the Gyptian courtesan
8.2481377Quaffed to Augustus's kingly countermatch
8.2491378Shall be caroused in English Henry's feasts.
8.2501379Candy shall yield the richest of her canes;
8.2521381Send down the secrets of her spicery;
8.2531382The Afric dates, myrobalans of Spain,
8.2541383Conserves and suckets from Tiberias,
8.2551384Cates from Judea, choicer than the lamp
8.2561385That fired Rome with sparks of gluttony,
8.2571386Shall beautify the board for Frederick;
8.2581387And therefore grudge not at a friar's feast.
[Exeunt.] Enter two gentlemen, Lambert and Serlsby, 1389with the Keeper. Come, frolic keeper of our liege's game,
9.21391Whose table spread hath ever venison
9.31392And jacks of wines to welcome passengers;
9.41393Know I am in love with jolly Margaret,
9.51394That over-shines our damsels as the moon
9.61395Darkeneth the brightest sparkles of the night.
9.71396In Laxfield here my land and living lies;
9.81397I'll make thy daughter jointer of it all,
9.91398So thou consent to give her to my wife,
9.101399And I can spend five hundred marks a year.
I am the landlord, keeper of thy holds;
9.121401By copy all thy living lies in me;
9.131402Laxfield did never see me raise my due.
9.141403I will enfeoff fair Margaret in all,
9.151404So she will take her to a lusty squire.
Now, courteous gentles, if the Keeper's girl
9.171406Hath pleased the liking fancy of you both,
9.181407And with her beauty hath subdued your thoughts,
9.191408'Tis doubtful to decide the question.
9.201409It joys me that such men of great esteem
9.211410Should lay their liking on this base estate,
9.221411And that her state should grow so fortunate
9.231412To be a wife to meaner men than you,
9.241413But sith such squires will stoop to keeper's fee,
9.251414I will, to avoid displeasure of you both,
9.261415Call Margaret forth, and she shall make her choice.
Content, Keeper, send her unto us.
9.281417Why, Serlsby, is thy wife so lately dead?
9.291418Are all thy loves so lightly passe}d over
9.301419As thou canst wed before the year be out?
I live not, Lambert, to content the dead,
9.321421Nor was I wedded but for life to her.
9.331422The grave ends and begins a married state.
Peggy, the lovely flower of all towns,
9.351425Suffolk's fair Helen and rich England's star,
9.361426Whose beauty tempered with her huswifery
9.371427Makes England talk of merry Fressingfield!
I cannot trick it up with poesies,
9.391429Nor paint my passions with comparisons,
9.401430Nor tell a tale of Phoebus and his loves,
9.411431But this believe me: Laxfield here is mine,
9.421432Of ancient rent seven hundred pounds a year,
9.431433And if thou canst but love a country squire,
9.441434I will enfeoff thee, Margaret, in all.
9.451435I cannot flatter. Try me, if thou please.
Brave neighboring squires, the stay of Suffolk's clime,
9.471437A keeper's daughter is too base in gree
9.481438To match with men accounted of such worth.
9.491439But, might I not displease, I would reply.
Say, Peggy, naught shall make us discontent.
Then, gentles, note that love hath little stay,
9.521442Nor can the flames that Venus sets on fire
9.531443Be kindled but by fancy's motion.
9.541444Then pardon, gentles, if a maid's reply
9.551445Be doubtful while I have debated with myself
9.561446Who or of whom love shall constrain me like.
Let it be me; and trust me, Margaret,
9.581448The meads environed with the silver streams,
9.591449Whose battling pastures fatt'neth all my flocks,
9.601450Yielding forth fleeces stapled with such wool
9.611451As Lempster cannot yield more finer stuff,
9.621452And forty kine with fair and burnished heads,
9.631453With strutting dugs that paggle to the ground,
9.641454Shall serve thy dairy if thou wed with me.
Let pass the country wealth as flocks and kine,
9.661456And lands that wave with Ceres's golden sheaves,
9.671457Filling my barns with plenty of the fields;
9.681458But, Peggy, if thou wed thyself to me
9.691459Thou shalt have garments of embroidered silk,
9.701460Lawns and rich networks for thy head-attire.
9.711461Costly shall be thy fair habiliments,
9.721462If thou wilt be but Lambert's loving wife.
Content you, gentles, you have proffered fair,
9.741464And more than fits a country maid's degree.
9.751465But give me leave to counsel me a time,
9.761466For fancy blooms not at the first assault.
9.771467Give me but ten days' respite and I will reply
9.781468Which or to whom myself affectionates.
Lambert, I tell thee thou art importunate.
9.801470Such beauty fits not such a base esquire.
9.811471It is for Serlsby to have Margaret.
Think'st thou with wealth to overreach me?
9.831473Serlsby, I scorn to brook thy country braves.
9.841474I dare thee, coward, to maintain this wrong
9.851475At dint of rapier single in the field.
I'll answer, Lambert, what I have avouched.--
9.871477Margaret, farewell. Another time shall serve.
I'll follow.-- Peggy, farewell to thyself;
9.891479Listen how well I'll answer for thy love.
How Fortune tempers lucky haps with frowns
9.911481And wrongs me with the sweets of my delight!
9.921482Love is my bliss, and love is now my bale.
9.931483Shall I be Helen in my froward fates,
9.941484As I am Helen in my matchless hue,
9.951485And set rich Suffolk with my face afire?
9.961486If lovely Lacy were but with his Peggy,
9.971487The cloudy darkness of his bitter frown
9.981488Would check the pride of these aspiring squires.
9.991489Before the term of ten days be expired,
9.1001490Whenas they look for answer of their loves,
9.1011491My lord will come to merry Fressingfield
9.1021492And end their fancies and their follies both;
9.1031493Till when, Peggy, be blithe and of good cheer.
Fair lovely damsel, which way leads this path?
9.1051497How might I post me unto Fressingfield?
9.1061498Which footpath leadeth to the Keeper's lodge?
Your way is ready and this path is right.
9.1081500Myself do dwell hereby in Fressingfield,
9.1091501And if the Keeper be the man you seek,
9.1101502I am his daughter. May I know the cause?
Lovely and once beloved of my lord--
9.1121504No marvel if his eye was lodged so low
9.1131505When brighter beauty is not in the heavens.--
9.1141506The Lincoln earl hath sent you letters here,
9.1151507And with them just an hundred pounds in gold.
9.1161508Sweet bonny wench, read them and make reply.
The scrolls that Jove sent Danae,
9.1181510Wrapped in rich closures of fine burnished gold,
9.1191511Were not more welcome than these lines to me.
9.1201512Tell me whilst that I do unrip the seals,
9.1211513Lives Lacy well? How fares my lovely lord?
Well, if that wealth may make men to live well.
The letter, and Margaret reads it.
‘The blooms of the almond tree grow in a night and vanish
9.1251517in a morn. The flies hemerae (fair Peggy) take life with
9.1261518the sun and die with the dew. Fancy, that slippeth in with a
9.1271519gaze, goeth out with a wink, and too timely loves have ever the
9.1281520shortest length. I write this as thy grief and my folly, who at
1521Fressingfield loved that which time hath taught me to be but mean
9.1291522dainties. Eyes are dissemblers and fancy is but queasy. Therefore
9.1301523know, Margaret, I have chosen a Spanish lady to be my wife,
9.1311524chief waiting woman to the Princess Eleanor, a lady fair
9.1321525and no less fair than thyself, honorable and wealthy. In that I
9.1331526forsake thee, I leave thee to thine own liking, and for thy dowry
9.1341527I have sent thee a hundred pounds and ever assure thee of my
9.1351528favor, which shall avail thee and thine much. Farewell.
9.1381531Fond Ate, doomer of bad-boding fates,
9.1391532That wraps proud Fortune in thy snaky locks,
9.1401533Did'st thou enchant my birthday with such stars
9.1411534As lightened mischief from their infancy?
9.1421535If heavens had vowed, if stars had made decree,
9.1431536To show on me their froward influence,
9.1441537If Lacy had but loved, heavens, hell, and all
9.1451538Could not have wronged the patience of my mind.
It grieves me, damsel, but the earl is forced
9.1471540To love the lady by the king's command.
The wealth combined within the English shelves,
9.1491542Europe's commander, nor the English king,
9.1501543Should not have moved the love of Peggy from her lord.
What answer shall I return to my lord?
First, for thou cam'st from Lacy whom I loved--
9.1531546Ah, give me leave to sigh at every thought!--
9.1541547Take thou, my friend, the hundred pound he sent,
9.1551548For Margaret's resolution craves no dower.
9.1561549The world shall be to her as vanity,
9.1571550Wealth, trash; love, hate; pleasure, despair;
9.1581551For I will straight to stately Framlingham,
9.1591552And in the abbey there be shorn a nun,
9.1601553And yield my loves and liberty to God.
9.1611554Fellow, I give thee this, not for the news,
9.1631556But for th'art Lacy's man, once Margaret's love.
What I have heard, what passions I have seen,
9.1651558I'll make report of them unto the earl.
Say that she joys his fancies be at rest,
9.1671560And prays that his misfortune may be hers!
Enter Friar Bacon, drawing the curtains with a white stick, 1562a book in his hand and a lamp lighted by him, and the 1563brazen head, and Miles with weapons by him. Miles, where are you?
Here, sir.
How chance you tarry so long?
Think you that the watching of the brazen head
1568craves no furniture? I warrant you, sir, I have so armed myself
1569that if all your devils come I will not fear them an inch.
Miles, thou knowest that I have dived into hell
10.61571And sought the darkest palaces of fiends,
10.71572That with my magic spells great Belcephon
10.81573Hath left his lodge and kneele}d at my cell.
10.91574The rafters of the earth rent from the poles
10.101575And three-formed Luna hid her silver looks,
10.111576Trembling upon her concave continent,
10.121577When Bacon read upon his magic book.
10.131578With seven years' tossing necromantic charms,
10.141579Poring upon dark Hecate's principles,
10.151580I have framed out a monstrous head of brass
10.161581That by the enchanting forces of the devil
10.171582Shall tell out strange and uncouth aphorisms,
10.181583And girt fair England with a wall of brass.
10.191584Bungay and I have watched these threescore days,
10.201585And now our vital spirits crave some rest.
10.211586If Argus lived and had his hundred eyes,
10.221587They could not overwatch Phobeter's night.
10.231588Now, Miles, in thee rests Friar Bacon's weal;
10.241589The honor and renown of all his life
10.251590Hangs in the watching of this brazen head.
10.261591Therefore, I charge thee by the immortal God
10.271592That holds the souls of men within his fist,
10.281593This night thou watch; for ere the morning star
10.291594Sends out his glorious glister on the north,
10.301595The head will speak. Then, Miles, upon thy life,
10.311596Wake me; for then by magic art I'll work
10.321597To end my seven years' task with excellence.
10.331598If that a wink but shut thy watchful eye,
10.341599Then farewell Bacon's glory and his fame.
10.351600Draw close the curtains. Miles, now for thy life,
So, I thought you would talk yourself asleep anon;
1603and 'tis no marvel, for Bungay on the days and he on the
1604nights have watched just these ten and fifty days. Now this is
1605the night, and 'tis my task and no more. Now, Jesus, bless me!
1606What a goodly head it is, and a nose! You talk of
nos autem 1607glorificare, but here's a nose that I warrant may be called
nos autem 1608popelare for the people of the parish. Well, I am furnished with
1609weapons. Now, sir, I will set me down by a post, and make it as
1610good as a watchman to wake me if I chance to slumber.
1611I thought, Goodman Head, I would call you out of your
memento--
[He falls asleep and knocks his head.] 1612Passion o' God, I have almost broke my pate! Up, Miles, to your
1613task. Take your brown bill in your hand. Here's some of your
1614master's hobgoblins abroad.
‘Time is'? Why, Master Brazen Head, have you such a
1618capital nose, and answer you with syllables? ‘Time is'? Is this all
1619my master's cunning, to spend seven years study about ‘Time is'?
1620Well, sir, it may be we shall have some better orations of it anon.
1621Well, I'll watch you as narrowly as ever you were watched, and I'll
1622play with you as the nightingale with the slow-worm. I'll set a
1623prick against my breast.
[He leans against the spear-point of a halberd.] Now, rest there, Miles.
[He sleeps again and falls down.] Lord have mercy
1624upon me, I have almost killed myself!
[Noise again.] Up Miles! List how they
1625rumble!
Time was.
Well, Friar Bacon, you spent your seven years' study
1628well that can make your head speak but two words at once.
1629‘Time was.' Yea, marry, time was when my master was a wise man,
1630but that was before he began to make the brazen head. You shall
1631lie while your arse ache and your head speak no better. Well, I
1632will watch, and walk up and down, and be a peripatetian and a
1633philosopher of Aristotle's stamp.
[Noise again.] What, a fresh noise? Take thy
1634pistols in hand, Miles!
10.41.11635Here the head speaks and a lightning flasheth forth, 1636and a hand appears that breaketh down the 1637head with a hammer. Time is past.
Master, master, up! Hell's broken loose! Your head
1640speaks, and there's such a thunder and lightning that I warrant
1641all Oxford is up in arms! Out of your bed and take a brown bill
1642in your hand! The latter day is come!
Miles, I come. Oh, passing warily watched!
10.451644Bacon will make thee next himself in love.
When spake the head? Did not you say that he
1647should tell strange principles of philosophy? Why, sir, it speaks but
1648two words at a time.
Why, villain, hath it spoken oft?
Oft? Ay, marry, hath it thrice. But in all those three times
1651it hath uttered but seven words.
As how?
Marry, sir, the first time he said ‘Time is,' as if Fabius
1654Cumentator should have pronounced a sentence. He said ‘Time was.'
1655And the third time, with thunder and lightning, as in great choler,
1656he said ‘Time is past.'
'Tis past indeed. Ah, villain! Time is past:
10.531658My life, my fame, my glory, all are past.
10.541659Bacon, the turrets of thy hope are ruined down.
10.551660Thy seven years' study lieth in the dust.
10.561661Thy brazen head lies broken through a slave
10.571662That watched, and would not when the head did will.
Even, sir, ‘Time is.'
Villain, if thou hadst called to Bacon then,
10.611666If thou hadst watched and waked the sleepy friar,
10.621667The brazen head had uttered aphorisms
10.631668And England had been circled round with brass.
10.641669But proud Astaroth, ruler of the north,
10.651670And Demogorgon, master of the fates,
10.661671Grudge that a mortal man should work so much.
10.671672Hell trembled at my deep commanding spells;
10.681673Fiends frowned to see a man their overmatch.
10.691674Bacon might boast more than a man might boast,
10.701675But now the braves of Bacon hath an end;
10.711676Europe's conceit of Bacon hath an end.
10.721677His seven years' practice sorteth to ill end;
10.731678And, villain, sith my glory hath an end,
10.741679I will appoint thee fatal to some end.
10.751680Villain, avoid! Get thee from Bacon's sight!
10.761681Vagrant, go roam and range about the world,
Why then, sir, you forbid me your service?
My service, villain, with a fatal curse
10.801685That direful plagues and mischief fall on thee!
'Tis no matter. I am against you with the old proverb,
1687‘The more the fox is curst, the better he fares.' God be with you,
1688sir. I'll take but a book in my hand, a wide-sleeved gown on my
1689back, and a crowned cap on my head, and see if I can want
1690promotion.
[Exit Miles.] Some fiend or ghost haunt on thy weary steps
10.831692Until they do transport thee quick to hell!
10.841693For Bacon shall have never merry day
1694To lose the fame and honor of his head.
Enter [the] Emperor [of Germany], [the King of] Castile, [King] Henry, Eleanor, 1696Edward, Lacy, [and] Rafe. [To Edward] Now, lovely prince, the prince of Albion's wealth,
11.21698How fares the Lady Eleanor and you?
11.31699What, have you courted and found Castile fit
11.41700To answer England in equivalence?
11.51701Will't be a match 'twixt bonny Nell and thee?
Should Paris enter in the courts of Greece
11.71703And not lie fettered in fair Helen's looks?
11.81704Or Phoebus scape those piercing amorets
11.91705That Daphne glance}d at his deity?
11.101706Can Edward then sit by a flame and freeze,
11.111707Whose heat puts Helen and fair Daphne down?
11.121708Now, monarchs, ask the lady if we gree.
What, madam, hath my son found grace or no?
Seeing, my lord, his lovely counterfeit,
11.151711And hearing how his mind and shape agreed,
11.161712I come not trooped with all this warlike train
11.171713Doubting of love, but so affectionate
11.181714As Edward hath in England what he won in Spain.
[To King Henry] A match, my lord! These wantons needs must love.
11.201716Men must have wives and women will be wed.
11.211717Let's haste the day to honor up the rites.
Sirrah Harry, shall Ned marry Nell?
Ay, Rafe, how then?
Marry, Harry, follow my counsel: send for Friar
1721Bacon to marry them, for he'll so conjure him and her with his
1722necromancy that they shall love together like pig and lamb
1723whilst they live.
But hear'st thou, Rafe, art thou content to have
1725Eleanor to thy lady?
Ay, so she will promise me two things.
What's that, Rafe?
That she will never scold with Ned, nor fight with
1729me.-- Sirrah Harry, I have put her down with a thing unpossible.
What's that, Rafe?
Why, Harry, did'st thou ever see that a woman could
1732both hold her tongue and her hands? No, but when egg-pies
1733grow on apple-trees, then will thy gray mare prove a
1734bagpiper.
11.30.1[The King of Castile and Lacy stand apart and speak privately.] What say the lord of Castile and the earl of
1736Lincoln, that they are in such earnest and secret talk?
I stand, my lord, amaze}d at his talk,
11.341739Of one surnamed for beauty's excellence
11.351740The fair maid of merry Fressingfield.
'Tis true, my lord, 'tis wondrous for to hear;
11.381743Her virgin's right as rich as Vesta's was.
What says Lord Lacy? Shall she be his wife?
Or else Lord Lacy is unfit to live.--
11.421747May it please your highness give me leave to post
11.431748To Fressingfield, I'll fetch the bonny girl,
11.441749And prove in true appearance at the court
11.451750What I have vouche}d often with my tongue.
Lacy, go to the querry of my stable,
11.471752And take such coursers as shall fit thy turn.
11.481753Hie thee to Fressingfield and bring home the lass;
11.491754And, for her fame flies through the English coast,
11.511756One day shall match your excellence and her.
We Castile ladies are not very coy;
11.531758Your highness may command a greater boon.
11.541759And glad were I to grace the Lincoln earl
11.551760With being partner of his marriage day.
Gramercy, Nell, for I do love the lord
11.571762As he that's second to myself in love.
You love her? Madam Nell, never believe him you,
1764though he swears he loves you.
Why, Rafe?
Why, his love is like unto a tapster's glass that is
1767broken with every touch, for he loved the fair maid of Fressingfield
1768once out of all ho.-- Nay, Ned, never wink upon me. I care not, I.
Rafe tells all; you shall have a good secretary of him.--
11.621770But, Lacy, haste thee post to Fressingfield,
11.631771For ere thou hast fitted all things for her state
11.641772The solemn marriage day will be at hand.
I go, my lord.
How shall we pass this day, my lord?
To horse, my lord. The day is passing fair;
11.681776We'll fly the partridge or go rouse the deer.--
11.691777Follow, my lords. You shall not want for sport.
Enter Friar Bacon with Friar Bungay to his cell.
What means the friar that frolicked it of late
12.21781To sit as melancholy in his cell
12.41783As if he had neither lost nor won today?
Ah, Bungay, my brazen head is spoiled,
12.61785My glory gone, my seven years' study lost.
12.71786The fame of Bacon bruited through the world
12.81787Shall end and perish with this deep disgrace.
Bacon hath built foundation of his fame
12.101789So surely on the wings of true report,
12.111790With acting strange and uncouth miracles,
12.121791As this cannot infringe what he deserves.
Bungay, sit down, for by prospective skill
12.141793I find this day shall fall out ominous.
12.151794Some deadly act shall 'tide me ere I sleep,
12.161795But what and wherein little can I guess.
My mind is heavy whatsoe'er shall hap.
Who's that knocks?
[Opening the door.]Two scholars that desire to speak with you.
Bid them come in. [Enter two Scholars, sons to Lambert and Serlsby.] Now, my youths, what would you have?
Sir, we are Suffolk men and neighboring friends,
12.221803Our fathers in their countries lusty squires.
12.231804Their lands adjoin: in Crackfield mine doth dwell,
12.241805And his in Laxfield. We are college mates,
12.251806Sworn brothers, as our fathers live as friends.
To what end is all this?
Hearing your worship kept within your cell
12.281809A glass prospective wherein men might see
12.291810Whatso their thoughts or hearts' desires could wish,
12.301811We come to know how that our fathers fare.
My glass is free for every honest man.
12.331814How or in what state your friendly fathers live.
Mine Lambert.
And mine Serlsby.
Bungay, I smell there will be a tragedy.
12.37.11819Enter [as in the magic glass] Lambert and Serlsby, with rapiers and daggers. Serlsby, thou hast kept thine hour like a man.
12.391821Th'art worthy of the title of a squire
12.401822That durst for proof of thy affection,
12.411823And for thy mistress's favor, prize thy blood.
12.421824Thou knowst what words did pass at Fressingfield,
12.431825Such shameless braves as manhood cannot brook.
12.441826Ay, for I scorn to bear such piercing taunts,
12.451827Prepare thee, Serlsby; one of us will die.
Thou seest I single thee the field,
12.471829And what I spake I'll maintain with my sword.
12.481830Stand on thy guard! I cannot scold it out,
12.491831And if thou kill me, think I have a son
12.501832That lives in Oxford in the Broadgates Hall,
12.511833Who will revenge his father's blood with blood.
And, Serlsby, I have there a lusty boy
12.531835That dares at weapon buckle with thy son,
12.541836And lives in Broadgates too, as well as thine.
12.551837But draw thy rapier, for we'll have a bout.
Now, lusty younkers, look within the glass
12.571839And tell me if you can discern your sires.
Serlsby, 'tis hard. Thy father offers wrong
12.591841To combat with my father in the field.
Lambert, thou liest. My father's is the abuse,
12.611843And thou shalt find it, if my father harm.
How goes it, sirs?
Our fathers are in combat hard by Fressingfield.
Sit still, my friends, and see the event.
Why stand'st thou, Serlsby? Doubt'st thou of thy life?
12.661848A veny, man. Fair Margaret craves so much.
Then this, for her! [They fight.]
Ah, well thrust!
But mark the ward.
12.69.11852They [Lambert and Serlsby] fight and kill each other. Oh, I am slain!
And I! Lord have mercy on me!
My father slain! Serlsby, ward that!
And so is mine, Lambert. I'll quite thee well.
12.73.1The two Scholars stab one another. O strange stratagem!
See, friar, where the fathers both lie dead.
12.761860Bacon, thy magic doth effect this massacre.
12.771861This glass prospective worketh many woes,
12.781862And therefore, seeing these brave lusty brutes,
12.791863These friendly youths, did perish by thine art,
12.801864End all thy magic and thine art at once.
12.811865The poniard that did end the fatal lives
12.821866Shall break the cause
efficiat of their woes.
12.831867So fade the glass, and end with it the shows
12.841868That necromancy did infuse the crystal with!
What means learned Bacon thus to break his glass?
I tell thee, Bungay, it repents me sore
12.871872That ever Bacon meddled in this art.
12.881873The hours I have spent in pyromantic spells,
12.891874The fearful tossing in the latest night
12.901875Of papers full of necromantic charms,
12.911876Conjuring and adjuring devils and fiends
12.921877With stole and alb and strange pentaganon,
12.931878The wresting of the holy name of God,
12.961881With praying to the five-fold powers of heaven,
12.971882Are instances that Bacon must be damned
12.981883For using devils to countervail his God.
12.991884Yet, Bacon, cheer thee, drown not in despair.
12.1001885Sins have their salves; repentance can do much.
12.1011886Think mercy sits where Justice holds her seat,
12.1021887And from those wounds those bloody Jews did pierce,
12.1031888Which by thy magic oft did bleed afresh,
12.1041889From thence for thee the dew of mercy drops,
12.1061891And make thee as a newborn babe from sin.
12.1071892Bungay, I'll spend the remnant of my life
12.1091894That he would save what Bacon vainly lost.
12.109.1[Exeunt Bacon and Bungay with the bodies.] Enter Margaret in nun's apparel, [the] Keeper, her Father, 1896and their Friend. Margaret, be not so headstrong in these vows.
13.21898Oh, bury not such beauty in a cell
13.31899That England hath held famous for the hue!
13.41900Thy father's hair, like to the silver blooms
13.51901That beautify the shrubs of Africa,
13.61902Shall fall before the dated time of death,
13.71903Thus to forego his lovely Margaret.
Ah, father, when the harmony of heaven
13.91905Soundeth the measures of a lively faith,
13.101906The vain illusions of this flattering world
13.111907Seem odious to the thoughts of Margaret.
13.121908I loved once. Lord Lacy was my love,
13.131909And now I hate myself for that I loved,
13.141910And doted more on him than on my God.
13.151911For this I scourge myself with sharp repents.
13.161912But now the touch of such aspiring sins
13.171913Tells me all love is lust but love of heavens,
13.181914That beauty used for love is vanity.
13.191915The world contains naught but alluring baits,
13.201916Pride, flattery, and inconstant thoughts.
13.211917To shun the pricks of death I leave the world,
13.221918And vow to meditate on heavenly bliss,
13.241920Holy and pure in conscience and in deed,
13.251921And for to wish all maids to learn of me
13.261922To seek heaven's joy before earth's vanity.
And will you then, Margaret, be shorn a nun, and so
1924leave us all?
Now, farewell world, the engine of all woe;
13.291926Farewell to friends! And father! Welcome, Christ.
13.301927Adieu to d ainty robes! This base attire
13.321929Than all the show of rich habiliments.
13.331930Love, oh love, and with fond love, farewell!
13.341931Sweet Lacy, whom I loved once so dear,
13.351932Ever be well, but never in my thoughts
13.361933Lest I offend to think on Lacy's love.
13.371934But even to that, as to the rest, farewell!
13.37.11935Enter Lacy, Warren, [and] Ermsby, booted and spurred. Come on, my wags, we're near the Keeper's lodge.
13.391937Here have I oft walked in the watery meads,
13.401938And chatted with my lovely Margaret.
Sirrah Ned, is not this the Keeper?
'Tis the same.
The old lecher hath gotten holy mutton to him.
1942A nun, my lord!
Keeper, how farest thou? Holla, man, what cheer?
13.451944How doth Peggy, thy daughter and my love?
Ah, good my lord. Oh, woe is me for Peg!
13.471946See where she stands, clad in her nun's attire,
13.481947Ready for to be shorn in Framlingham.
13.491948She leaves the world because she left your love.
13.501949Oh, good my lord, persuade her if you can!
Why, how now, Margaret; what, a malcontent?
13.521951A nun? What holy father taught you this,
13.531952To task yourself to such a tedious life
13.551954To smother up such beauty in a cell.
Lord Lacy, thinking of thy former miss,
13.571956How fond the prime of wanton years were spent
13.581957In love. Oh, fie upon that fond conceit
13.591958Whose hap and essence hangeth in the eye!
13.601959I leave both love and love's content at once,
13.611960Betaking me to Him that is true love,
13.621961And leaving all the world for love of Him.
Whence, Peggy, comes this metamorphosis?
13.641963What, shorn a nun? And I have from the court
13.651964Posted with coursers to convey thee hence
13.661965To Windsor where our marriage shall be kept.
13.671966Thy wedding robes are in the tailor's hands.
13.681967Come, Peggy, leave these peremptory vows.
Did not my lord resign his interest
13.701969And make divorce 'twixt Margaret and him?
'Twas but to try sweet Peggy's constancy.
13.721971But will fair Margaret leave her love and lord?
Is not heaven's joy before earth's fading bliss,
13.741973And life above sweeter than life in love?
Why then Margaret will be shorn a nun?
Margaret hath made a vow which may not be revoked.
We cannot stay, my lord, an if she be so strict.
13.781977Our leisure grants us not to woo afresh.
Choose you, fair damsel. Yet the choice is yours:
13.801979Either a solemn nunnery or the court,
13.811980God or Lord Lacy. Which contents you best?
13.821981To be a nun, or else Lord Lacy's wife?
A good motion.-- Peggy, your answer must be short.
The flesh is frail. My lord doth know it well
13.851984That when he comes with his enchanting face,
13.861985Whate'er betide I cannot say him nay.
13.871986[Removing her nun's apparel.] Off goes the habit of a maiden's heart,
13.881987And seeing Fortune will, fair Framlingham
13.891988And all the show of holy nuns, farewell!
Peggy, thy lord, thy love, thy husband!
13.921991Trust me, by truth of knighthood, that the king
13.931992Stays for to marry matchless Eleanor
13.941993Until I bring thee richly to the court,
13.951994That one day may both marry her and thee.--
13.961995How say'st thou, Keeper? Art thou glad of this?
As if the English king had given
13.981997The park and deer of Fressingfield to me.
I pray thee, my lord of Sussex, why art thou in a brown
1999study?
To see the nature of women, that be they never so
2001near God, yet they love to die in a man's arms.
What have you fit for breakfast? We have hied and
2003posted all this night to Fressingfield.
Butter and cheese and humbles of a deer,
13.1032005Such as poor keepers have within their lodge.
And not a bottle of wine?
We'll find one for my lord.
Come, Sussex, let's in. We shall have more, for she speaks
2009least to hold her promise sure.
Enter a devil to seek Miles.
How restless are the ghosts of hellish spirits,
14.22012When every charmer with his magic spells
14.32013Calls us from nine-fold trenched Phlegeton,
14.42014To scud and over-scour the earth in post
14.52015Upon the speedy wings of swiftest winds!
14.62016Now Bacon hath raised me from the darkest deep
14.72017To search about the world for Miles his man--
14.82018For Miles, and to torment his lazy bones
14.92019For careless watching of his brazen head.
A scholar, quoth you? Marry, sir, I would I had been made
2024a bottle-maker when I was made a scholar, for I can get neither to
2025be a deacon, reader, nor schoolmaster; no, not the clerk of
2026a parish. Some call me a dunce, another saith my head is as full of
2027Latin as an egg's full of oatmeal. Thus I am tormented that the
2028devil and Friar Bacon haunt me.-- Good Lord, here's one of my
2029master's devils! I'll go speak to him.-- What, Master Plutus,
2030how cheer you?
Dost thou know me?
Know you, sir? Why, are not you one of my master's
2033devils that were wont to come to my master Doctor Bacon at
2034Brazennose?
Yes, marry, am I.
Good Lord, Master Plutus, I have seen you a thousand
2037times at my master's, and yet I had never the manners to make
2038you drink. But, sir, I am glad to see how conformable you are to
2039the statute.
[To the audience] I warrant you, he's as yeomanly a man as you shall see;
2040mark you, masters, here's a plain honest man, without welt or
2041guard.--
[To the devil.] But I pray you, sir, do you come lately from hell?
Ay, marry. How then?
Faith, 'tis a place I have desired long to see. Have you not
2044good tippling houses there? May not a man have a lusty fire there,
2045a pot of good ale, a pair of cards, a swingeing piece of chalk,
2046and a brown toast that will clap a white waistcoat on a cup
2047of good drink?
All this you may have there.
You are for me, friend, and I am for you. But I pray
2050you, may I not have an office there?
Yes, a thousand. What wouldst thou be?
By my troth, sir, in a place where I may profit
2053myself. I know hell is a hot place, and men are marvelous dry, and
2054much drink is spent there. I would be a tapster.
Thou shalt.
There's nothing lets me from going with you but
2057that 'tis a long journey and I have never a horse.
Thou shalt ride on my back.
Now surely here's a courteous devil, that for to
2060pleasure his friend will not stick to make a jade of himself.-- But I pray
2061you, goodman friend, let me move a question to you.
What's that?
I pray you, whether is your pace a trot or an amble?
An amble.
'Tis well. But take heed it be not a trot.
2066But 'tis no matter; I'll prevent it.
[He puts on spurs.] What dost?
Marry, friend, I put on my spurs. For if I find your pace
2069either a trot or else uneasy, I'll put you to a false gallop. I'll make
2070you feel the benefit of my spurs.
Get up upon my back.
Oh Lord, here's even a goodly marvel when a man
2073rides to hell on the devil's back!
Enter the Emperor [of Germany] with a pointless sword, next the King of 2075Castile carrying a sword with a point, Lacy carrying the 2076globe, [Prince] Ed[ward], Warr[en] carrying a rod of gold with a dove on it, 2077Ermsby with a crown and scepter, [Princess Eleanor] with [Margaret] the 2078fair maid of Fressingfield [and countess of Lincoln] on her left hand, [King] Henry, Bacon, 2079with other Lords attending. [Kneeling] Great potentates, earth's miracles for state,
15.22081Think that Prince Edward humbles at your feet,
15.32082And for these favors, on his martial
15.42083He vows perpetual homage to your selves,
15.52084Yielding these honors unto Eleanor.
[He rises.] Gramercies, lordlings. Old Plantagenet
15.72086That rules and sways the Albion diadem,
15.82087With tears discovers these conceive}d joys,
15.92088And vows requital if his men-at-arms,
15.102089The wealth of England, or due honors done
15.112090To Eleanor, may quite his favorites.
15.122091But all this while, what say you to the dames
15.132092That shine like to the crystal lamps of heaven?
If but a third were added to these two,
15.152094They did surpass those gorgeous images
15.162095That gloried Ida with rich beauty's wealth.
[Kneeling] 'Tis I, my lords, who humbly on my knee
15.182097Must yield her orisons to mighty Jove
15.192098For lifting up his handmaid to this state;
15.202099Brought from her homely cottage to the court
15.212100And graced with kings, princes, and emperors,
15.222101To whom (next to the noble Lincoln earl)
15.232102I vow obedience and such humble love
15.242103As may a handmaid to such mighty men.
[She rises.] Thou martial man that wears the Almain crown,
15.262105And you, the western potentates of might,
15.272106The Albion princess, English Edward's wife,
15.282107Proud that the lovely star of Fressingfield,
15.292108Fair Margaret, countess to the Lincoln earl,
15.302109Attends on Eleanor--gramercies, lord, for her--
15.312110'Tis I give thanks for Margaret to you all,
15.322111And rest, for her, due bounden to yourselves.
Seeing the marriage is solemnized,
15.342113Let's march in triumph to the royal feast.--
15.352114But why stands Friar Bacon here so mute?
Repentant for the follies of my youth
15.372116That magic's secret mysteries misled,
15.392118Portends such bliss unto this matchless realm.
Why, Bacon, what strange event shall happen to this land?
15.412120Or what shall grow from Edward and his queen?
I find by deep prescience of mine art,
15.432122Which once I tempered in my secret cell,
15.442123That here, where Brut did build his Troynovant,
15.452124From forth the royal garden of a king
15.462125Shall flourish out so rich and fair a bud,
15.472126Whose brightness shall deface proud Phoebus's flower
15.482127And overshadow Albion with her leaves.
15.492128Till then, Mars shall be master of the field,
15.502129But then the stormy threats of wars shall cease;
15.512130The horse shall stamp as careless of the pike;
15.522131Drums shall be turned to timbrels of delight.
15.532132With wealthy favors plenty shall enrich
15.542133The strand that gladded wandering Brut to see,
15.552134And peace from heaven shall harbor in these leaves
15.562135That gorgeous beautify this matchless flower.
15.572136Apollo's heliotropian then shall stoop,
15.582137And Venus's hyacinth shall vail her top;
15.592138Juno shall shut her gillyflowers up,
15.602139And Pallas's bay shall bash her brightest green;
15.612140Ceres's carnation in consort with those
15.622141Shall stoop and wonder at Diana's rose.
This prophesy is mystical.--
15.642143But, glorious commanders of Europa's love,
15.652144That make fair England like that wealthy isle
15.662145Circled with Gihon and first Euphrates,
15.682147With presence of your princely mightiness,
15.692148Let's march. The tables all are spread,
15.702149And viands such as England's wealth affords
15.712150Are ready set to furnish out the boards.
15.722151You shall have welcome, mighty potentates;
15.732152It rests to furnish up this royal feast
15.742153Only your hearts be frolic, for the time
15.752154Craves that we taste of naught but jouissance.
2155Thus glories England over all the west.
15.762156Finis Friar Bacon, made by Robert Greene,
Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci.