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  • Title: Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay (Quarto)
  • Editors: Christopher Hicklin, Christopher Matusiak

    • Copyright Queen's Men Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: Robert Greene
    Editors: Christopher Hicklin, Christopher Matusiak
    Peer Reviewed

    Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay (Quarto)

    Enter Raphe Simnell in Edwardes apparrell, Ed-
    ward, Warren, Ermsby disguised.
    515Raphe. Where be these vacabond knaues that they attend
    no better on their maister?
    Edward. If it please your honour we are all ready at an inch.
    Raphe. Sirha Ned, Ile haue no more post horse to ride on,
    Ile haue another fetch.
    520Ermsbie. I pray you how is that my Lord?
    Raphe. Marrie sir, Ile send to the Ile of Eely for foure or fiue
    dozen of Geese, and Ile haue them tide six and six together with
    whipcord, Now vpon their backes will I haue a faire field bed,
    with a Canapie, and so when it is my pleasure Ile flee into what
    525place I please; this will be easie.
    Warren. Your honour hath said well, but shall we to Brasen-
    nose Colledge before we pull off our bootes.
    Ermsbie. Warren well motioned, wee will to the Frier
    Before we reuell it within the towne.
    530Raphe see you keepe your countenance like a Prince.
    Raphe. Wherefore haue I such a companie of cutting knaues
    to wait vpon me, but to keep and defend my countenance against
    all mine enemies: haue you not good swords and bucklers.
    Enter Bacon and Miles.
    535Ermsbie. Stay who comes heere.
    Warren. Some scholler, and weele aske him where Frier Ba-
    con is.
    Bacon. Why thou arrant dunce shal I neuer make thee good
    scholler, doth not all the towne crie out, and say, Frier Bacons
    540subsiser is the greatest blockhead in all Oxford, why thou canst
    not speake one word of true Latine.
    Miles. No sir, yes what is this els; Ego sum tuus homo, I am
    your man, I warrant you sir as good Tullies phrase as any is in
    Oxford.
    545Bacon. Come on sirha, what part of speech is Ego.
    Miles. Ego, that is I, marrie nomen substantiuo.
    Bacon. How prooue you that?
    Miles. Why sir let him prooue himselfe and a will, I can be
    hard felt and vnderstood.
    550Bacon. Oh grosse dunce.
    Here beate him.
    Edw. Come let vs breake off this dispute between these two.
    Sirha, where is Brazennose Colledge.
    Miles. Not far from Copper-smithes hall.
    555Edward. What doest thou mocke me.
    Miles. Not I sir, but what would you at Brazennose?
    Ermsbie. Marrie we would speake with frier Bacon.
    Miles. Whose men be you.
    Ersmbie. Marrie scholler heres our maister.
    560Raphe. Sirha I am the maister of these good fellowes, mayst
    thou not know me to be a Lord by my reparrell.
    Miles. Then heeres good game for the hawke, for heers the
    maister foole, and a couie of Cockscombs, one wise man I thinke
    would spring you all.
    565Edward. Gogs wounds Warren kill him.
    VVarren. Why Ned I thinke the deuill be in my sheath, I
    cannot get out my dagger.
    Ermsbie. Nor I mine, Swones Ned I thinke I am bewitcht.
    Miles. A companie of scabbes, the proudest of you all drawe
    570your weapon if he can,
    See how boldly I speake now my maister is by.
    Edward. I striue in vaine, but if my sword be shut,
    And coniured fast by magicke in my sheath,
    Villaine heere is my fist.
    575Strike him a box on the eare.
    Miles. Oh I beseech you coniure his hands too, that he may
    not lift his armes to his head, for he is light fingered.
    Raphe. Ned strike him, Ile warrant thee by mine honour.
    Bacon. What meanes the English prince to wrong my man,
    580Edward. To whom speakest thou.
    Bacon. To thee.
    Edward. Who art thou.
    Bacon. Could you not iudge when all your swords grew fast,
    That frier Bacon was not farre from hence:
    585Edward king Henries sonne and Prince of Wales,
    Thy foole disguisd cannot conceale thy selfe,
    I know both Ermsbie and the Sussex Earle,
    Els Frier Bacon had but little skill.
    Thou comest in post from merrie Fresingfield,
    590Fast fancied to the keepers bonny lasse,
    To craue some succour of the iolly Frier,
    And Lacie Eare of Lincolne hast thou left,
    To treat faire Margret to allow thy loues:
    But friends are men, and loue can baffle lords.
    595The Earle both woes and courtes her for himselfe.
    VVarren. Ned this is strange, the frier knoweth al.
    Ermsbie. Appollo could not vtter more than this.
    Edward. I stand amazed to heare this iolly Frier,
    Tell euen the verie secrets of my thoughts:
    600But learned Bacon since thou knowest the cause,
    Why I did post so fast from Fresingfield.
    Helpe Frier at a pinch, that I may haue
    The loue of louely Margret to my selfe,
    And as I am true Prince of Wales, Ile giue
    605Liuing and lands to strength thy colledge state.
    VVarren. Good Frier helpe the Prince in this.
    Raphe. Why seruant Ned, will not the frier doe it. Were
    not my sword glued to my scabberd by coniuration, I would cut
    off his head and make him do it by force.
    610Miles. In faith my lord, your manhood and your sword is all
    alike, they are so fast coniured that we shall neuer see them.
    Ermsbie. Wat doctor in a dumpe, tush helpe the prince,
    And thou shalt see how liberall he will prooue,
    Bacon. Craue not such actions, greater dumps than these,
    615I will my lord straine out my magicke spels,
    For this day comes the earle to Fresingfield,
    And fore that night shuts in the day with darke,
    Theile be betrothed ech to other fast:
    But come with me, weele to my studie straight,
    620And in a glasse prospectiue I will shew
    Whats done this day in merry Fresingfield.
    Edward. Gramercies Bacon, I will quite thy paine.
    Bacon. But send your traine my lord into the towne,
    My scholler shall go bring them to their Inne:
    625Meane while weele see the knauerie of the earle.
    Edward. Warren leaue me and Ermsbie, take the foole,
    Let him be maister and go reuell it,
    Till I and Frier Bacon talke a while.
    VVarren. We will my lord.
    630Raphe. Faith Ned and Ile lord it out till thou comest, Ile be
    Prince of Wales ouer all the blacke pots in Oxford.
    Exeunt.
    Bacon and Edward goes into the study.
    Bacon. Now frolick Edward, welcome to my Cell,
    635Heere tempers Frier Bacon many toies:
    And holds this place his consistorie court,
    Wherin the diuels pleads homage to his words,
    Within this glasse prospectiue thou shalt see
    This day whats done in merry Fresingfield,
    640Twixt louely Peggie and the Lincolne earle.
    Edward. Frier thou gladst me, now shall Edward trie,
    How Lacie meaneth to his soueraigne lord.
    Bacon. Stand there and looke directly in the glasse,
    Enter Margret and Frier Bungay.
    645Bacon. What sees my lord.
    Edward. I see the keepers louely lasse appeare,
    As bright-sunne as the parramour of Mars,
    Onely attended by a iolly frier.
    Bacon. Sit still and keepe the christall in your eye,
    650Margret. But tell me frier Bungay is it true,
    That this faire courtious countrie swaine,
    Who saies his father is a farmer nie,
    Can be lord Lacie earle of Lincolnshire.
    Bungay. Peggie tis true, tis Lacie for my life,
    655Or else mine art and cunning both doth faile.
    Left by prince Edward to procure his loues,
    For he in greene that holpe you runne your cheese,
    Is sonne to Henry and the prince of Wales.
    Margret. Be what he will his lure is but for lust.
    660But did lord Lacie like poore Margret,
    Or would he daine to wed a countrie lasse,
    Frier, I would his humble handmayd be,
    And for great wealth, quite him with courtesie.
    Bungay. Why Margret doest thou loue him.
    665Margret. His personage like the pride of vaunting Troy,
    Might well auouch to shadow Hellens cape:
    His wit is quicke and readie in conceit,
    As Greece affoorded in her chiefest prime
    Courteous, ah Frier full of pleasing smiles,
    670Trust me I loue too much to tell thee more,
    Suffice to me he is Englands parramour.
    Bungay. Hath not ech eye that viewd thy pleasing face,
    Surnamed thee faire maid of Fresingfield.
    Margret. Yes Bungay, and would God the louely Earle
    675Had that in esse, that so many sought.
    Bungay. Feare not, the Frier will not be behind,
    To shew his cunning to entangle loue.
    Edward. I thinke the Frier courts the bonny wench,
    Bacon, me thinkes he is a lustie churle.
    680Bacon. Now looke my lord.
    Enter Lacie.
    Edward. Gogs wounds Bacon heere comes Lacie.
    Bacon. Sit still my lord and marke the commedie.
    Bungay. Heeres Lacie, Margret step aside awhile.
    685Lacie. Daphne the damsell, that caught Phaebus fast,
    And lockt him in the brightnesse of her lookes,
    Was not so beautious in Appollos eyes,
    As is faire Margret to the Lincolne earle,
    Recant thee Lacie thou art put in trust,
    690Edward thy soueraignes sonne hath chosen thee
    A secret friend to court her for himselfe:
    And darest thou wrong thy Prince with trecherie.
    Lacie, loue makes no acception of a friend,
    Nor deemes it of a Prince, but as a man:
    695Honour bids thee controll him in his lust,
    His wooing is not for to wed the girle,
    But to intrap her and beguile the lasse:
    Lacie thou louest, then brooke not such abuse,
    But wed her, and abide thy Princes frowne:
    700For better die, then see her liue disgracde.
    Margret. Come Frier I will shake him from his dumpes,
    How cheere you sir, a penie for your thought:
    Your early vp, pray God it be the neere,
    What come from Beckles in a morne so soone.
    705Lacie. Thus watchfull are such men as liue in loue,
    Whose eyes brooke broken slumbers for their sleepe,
    I tell thee Peggie since last Harlston faire,
    My minde hath felt a heape of passions.
    Margret. A trustie man that court it for your friend,
    710Woo you still for the courtier all in greene.
    I maruell that he sues not for himselfe.
    Lacie. Peggie, I pleaded first to get your grace for him,
    But when mine eies suruaid your beautious lookes
    Loue like a wagge, straight diued into my heart,
    715And there did shrine the Idea of your selfe:
    Pittie me though I be a farmers sonne,
    And measure not my riches but my loue.
    Margret. You are verie hastie for to garden well,
    Seeds must haue time to sprout before they spring,
    720Loue ought to creepe as doth the dials shade,
    For timely ripe is rotten too too soone.
    Bungay. Deus hic, roome for a merry Frier,
    What youth of Beckles, with the keepers lasse,
    Tis well, but tell me heere you any newes.
    725Margret. No, Frier what newes.
    Bungay. Heere you not how the purseuants do post,
    With proclamations through ech country towne:
    Lacie. For what gentle frier tell the newes.
    Bungay. Dwelst thou in Beckles & heerst not of these news,
    730Lacie the Earle of Lincolne is late fled
    From Windsor court disguised like a swaine,
    And lurkes about the countrie heere vnknowne.
    Henrie suspects him of some trecherie,
    And therefore doth proclaime in euery way,
    735That who can take the Lincolne earle, shall haue
    Paid in the Exchequer twentie thousand crownes.
    Lacie. The earle of Lincoln, Frier thou art mad,
    It was some other, thou mistakest the man:
    The earle of Lincolne, why it cannot be.
    740Margret. Yes verie well my lord, for you are he,
    The keepers daughter tooke you prisoner,
    Lord Lacie yeeld, Ile be your gailor once.
    Edward. How familiar they be Bacon.
    Bacon. Sit still and marke the sequell of their loues.
    745Lacie. Then am I double prisoner to thy selfe,
    Peggie, I yeeld, but are these newes in iest,
    Margret. In iest with you, but earnest vnto me:
    For why, these wrongs do wring me at the heart,
    Ah how these earles and noble men of birth,
    750Flatter and faine to forge poore womens ill.
    Lacie. Beleeue me lasse, I am the Lincolne earle,
    I not denie, but tyred thus in rags
    I liued disguisd to winne fair Peggies loue.
    Margret. What loue is there where wedding ends not loue?
    755Lacie. I meant faire girle to make thee Lacies wife.
    Margret. I litle thinke that earles wil stoop so low,
    Lacie. Say, shall I make thee countesse ere I sleep.
    Marg. Handmaid vnto the earle so please himselfe
    A wife in name, but seruant in obedience.
    760Lacie. The Lincolne countesse, for it shalbe so,
    Ile plight the bands and seale it with a kisse.
    Edward. Gogs wounds Bacon they kisse, Ile stab them,
    Bacon. Oh hold your handes my lord it is the glasse.
    Edward. Coller to see the traitors gree so well,
    765Made me thinke the shadowes substances.
    Bacon. Twere a long poinard my lord, to reach betweene
    Oxford and Fresingfield, but sit still and see more.
    Bungay. Well lord of Lincolne, if your loues be knit,
    And that your tongues and thoughts do both agree:
    770To auoid insuing iarres, Ile hamper vp the match,
    Ile take my portace forth, and wed you heere,
    Then go to bed and seale vp your desires.
    Lacie. Frier content, Peggie how like you this?
    Margret. What likes my lord is pleasing vnto me.
    775Bungay. Then hand-fast hand, and I wil to my booke,
    Bacon. What sees my lord now.
    Edward. Bacon, I see the louers hand in hand,
    The Frier readie with his portace there,
    To wed them both, then am I quite vndone,
    780Bacon helpe now, if ere thy magicke serude,
    Helpe Bacon, stop the marriage now,
    If diuels or nigromansie may suffice,
    And I will giue thee fourtie thousand crownes.
    Bacon. Feare not my lord, Ile stop the iolly Frier,
    785For mumbling vp his orisons this day.
    Lacie. VVhy speakst not Bungay, Frier to thy booke.
    Bungay is mute, crying Hud hud.
    Margret. How lookest thou frier, as a man disttaught,
    Reft of thy sences Bungay, shew by signes
    790If thou be dum what passions holdeth thee.
    Lacie. Hees dumbe indeed: Bacon hath with his diuels
    Inchanted him, or else some strange disease,
    Or Appoplexie hath possest his lungs:
    But Peggie what he cannot with his booke
    795Weele twixt vs both vnite it vp in heart.
    Margret. Els let me die my lord a miscreant.
    Edward. Why stands frier Bacon so amazd.
    Bacon. I haue strook him dum my lord, & if your honor please
    Ile fetch this Bungay straightway from Fresingfield,
    800And he shall dine with vs in Oxford here.
    Edward. Bacon, doe that and thou contentest me,
    Lacie. Of courtesie Margret let vs lead the frier
    Vnto thy fathers lodge, to comfort him
    With brothes to bring him from this haplesse trance.
    805Margret. Or els my lord, we were passing vnkinde
    To leaue the frier so in his distresse.
    Enter a deuill, and carrie Bungay on his backe.
    Margret. O helpe my lord, a deuill, a deuill my lord,
    Looke how he carries Bungay on his backe:
    810Lets hence for Bacons spirits be abroad.
    Exeunt.
    Edward. Bacon I laugh to see the iolly Frier
    Mounted vpon the diuell, and how the earle
    Flees with his bonny lasse for feare,
    815Assoone as Bungay is at Brazennose,
    And I haue chatted with the merrie frier,
    I will in post hie me to Fresingfield,
    And quite these wrongs on Lacie ere it be long,
    Bacon. So be it my lord, but let vs to our dinner:
    820For ere we haue taken our repast awhile,
    We shall haue Bungay brought to Brazennose.
    Exeunt.
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