The Unfortunate Traveller and Other Works (18 page)

Oh decus atque ævi gloria summa tui
.
³⁶⁸

And here, heavenly Spenser, I am most highly to accuse thee of forgetfulness, that in that honourable catalogue of our English heroes, which insueth the conclusion of thy famous
Faerie Queene
, thou wouldst let so special a pillar of nobility pass unsaluted. The very thought of his farderived
descent and extraordinary parts, wherewith he astonieth the world and draws all hearts to his love, would have inspired thy forwearied Muse with new fury to proceed to the next triumphs of thy stately goddess. But as I, in favour of so rare a scholar, suppose, with this counsel he refrained his mention in this first part, that he might with full sail proceed to his due commendation in the second. Of this occasion, long since I happened to frame a sonnet, which, being wholly intended to the reverence of this renowned Lord, to whom I owe all the utmost powers of my love and duty, I meant here for variety of style to insert.

Perusing yesternight, with idle eyes,
The fairy singer's stately tuned verse,

And viewing after chapmen's wonted guise,
³⁶⁹
What strange contents the title did rehearse:

I straight leapt over to the latter end,
Where like the quaint comedians of our time,

That when their play is done do fall to rhyme,
I found short lines to sundry nobles penn'd;

Whom he as special mirrors singled forth,
To be the patrons of his poetry:

I read them all, and reverenc'd their worth,
Yet wonder'd he left out thy memory.

 But therefore guess'd I he suppress'd thy name,
   Because few words might not comprise thy fame.

Bear with me, gentle poet, though I conceive not aright of thy purpose, or be too inquisitive into the intent of thy oblivion: for, however my conjecture may miss the cushion,
³⁷⁰
yet shall my speech savour of friendship, though it be not allied to judgment.

Tantum hoc molior
,
³⁷¹
in this short digression, to acquaint our countrymen that live out of the echo of the Court, with a common knowledge of his invaluable virtues, and show myself thankful (in some part) for benefits received; which,
since words may not countervail, that are the usual lip labour of every idle discourser, I conclude with that of Ovid:

Accipe per longos tibi qui deserviat annos
,
Accipe, qui pura novit amare fide
.
³⁷²

And if my zeal and duty, though all too mean to please, may by any industry be reformed to your gracious liking, I submit the simplicity of my endeavours to your service, which is all my performance may proffer, or my ability perform.

Præbeat Alcinoi poma benignus ager
,
Officium pauper numeret studiumque fidemqus
.
³⁷³

And so I break off this endless argument of speech abruptly.

FINIS

[
Enter Will Summers in his fool's coat but half on, coming out
]

WILL SUMMERS
:
¹
Noctem peccatis, et fraudibus obiice nubem
.
²
There is no such fine time to play the knave in as the night. I am a goose, or a ghost at least; for what with turmoil of getting my fool's apparel, and care of being perfect,
³
I am sure I have not yet supped tonight. Will Summers' ghost I should be, come to present you with
Summer's Last Will and Testament
. Be it so, if my cousin Ned
⁴
will lend me his chain and his fiddle. Other, stately-paced Prologues use to attire themselves within.
⁵
I, that have a toy
⁶
in my head more than ordinary, and use to go without money, without garters, without girdle, without a hat-band,
⁷
without points
⁸
to my hose, without a knife to my dinner, and make so much use of this word ‘without'
⁹
in everything, will here dress me without. Dick Huntley
¹⁰
cries ‘Begin, begin,' and all the whole house ‘For shame, come away', when I had my things but now brought me out of the laundry. God forgive me, I did not see my lord before I'll set a good face on it, as though what I had talked idly all this while
were my part. So it is,
boni viri
,
¹¹
that one fool presents another. And I, fool by nature and by art, do speak to you in the person of the idiot our playmaker. He, like a fop and an ass, must be making himself a public laughing-stock, and have no thank for his labour, where other
Magisterii
, whose invention is far more exquisite, are content to sit still and do nothing. I'll show you what a scurvy Prologue he had made me, in an old vein of similitudes. If you be good fellows, give it the hearing, that you may judge of him thereafter.

THE PROLOGUE

‘At a solemn feast of the
Triumviri
in Rome, it was seen and observed that the birds ceased to sing, and sat solitary on the house-tops, by reason of the sight of a painted serpent set openly to view. So fares it with us novices that here betray our imperfections. We, afraid to look on the imaginary serpent of Envy, painted in men's affections, have ceased to tune any music of mirth to your ears this twelvemonth, thinking that, as it is the nature of the serpent to hiss, so childhood and ignorance would play the goslings, contemning
¹²
what they understood not. Their censures we weigh not, whose senses are not yet unswaddled. The little minutes will be continually striking, though no man regard them. Whelps will bark before they can see, and strive to bite before they have teeth. Politianus speaketh of a beast who, while he is cut on the table, drinketh and represents the motions and voices of a living creature. Suchlike foolish beasts are we, who, whilst we are cut, mocked, and flouted at, in every man's common talk, will notwithstanding proceed to shame ourselves to make sport. No man pleaseth all: we seek to please one. Didymus
¹³
Wrote four thou
sand books, or, as some say, six thousand, of the art of grammar. Our author hopes it may be as lawful for him to write a thousand lines of as light a subject Socrates, whom the Oracle pronounced the wisest man of Greece, sometimes danced. Scipio and Lelius by the seaside played at pebble-stone.
¹⁴
Semel insanivimus omnes
.
¹⁵
Every man cannot, with Archimedes, make a heaven of brass,
¹⁶
or dig gold out of the iron-mines of the law. Such odd trifles as mathematicians' experiments be (artificial flies to hang in the air by themselves, dancing balls, an egg-shell that shall climb up to the top of a spear,
¹⁷
fiery-breathing gourds),
poeta noster
¹⁸
professeth not to make.
Placeat sibi quisque licebit
.
¹⁹
What's a fool but his bable? Deep-reaching wits, here is no deep stream for you to angle in. Moralisers,
²⁰
you that wrest a never-meant meaning out of everything, applying all things to the present time, keep your attention for the common stage, for here are no quips in characters
²¹
for you to read. Vain glozers,
²²
gather what you will. Spite, spell backwards what thou canst. As the Parthians fight, flying away, so will we prate and talk, but stand to nothing that we say.'

How say you, my masters, do you not laugh at him for a coxcomb? Why, he hath made a Prologue longer than his play! Nay, ‘tis no play neither, but a show.
²³
I'll be sworn, the Jig of Rowland's God-son
²⁴
is a giant in com
parison of it. What can be made of Summer's last will and testament? Such another thing as Gillian of Brains-ford's will,
²⁵
where she bequeathed a score of farts amongst her friends. Forsooth, because the plague
²⁶
reigns in most places in this latter end of summer, Summer must come in sick. He must call his officers to account, yield his throne to Autumn, make Winter his executor, with tittle-tattle Tom boy: God give you goodnight in Watling Street.
²⁷
I care not what I say now, for I play no more than you hear, and some of that you heard too (by your leave) was extempore. He were as good have let me had the best part, for I'll be revenged on him to the uttermost, in this person of Will Summers, which I have put on to play the Prologue, and mean not to put off till the play be done. I'll sit as a Chorus and flout the actors and him at the end of every scene. I know they will not interrupt me, for fear of marring of all. But look to your cues, my masters, for I intend to play the knave in cue,
²⁸
and put you besides all your parts, if you take not the better heed. Actors, you rogues, come away, clear your throats, blow your noses, and wipe your mouths ere you enter, that you may take no occasion to spit or to cough, when you are
non plus
.
²⁹
And this I bar, over and besides: that none of you stroke your beards to make action, play with your cod-piece points, or stand fumbling on your buttons, when you know not how to bestow your fingers. Serve God and act cleanly. A fit of mirth and an old song first, if you will.

[
Enter Summer, leaning on Autumn's and Winter's shoulders, and attended on with a train of satyrs and wood-nymphs singing. Vertumnus also following him
.]

Fair Summer droops, droop men and beasts therefore:
So fair a summer look for never more.
All good things vanish, less than in a day,
Peace, plenty, pleasure, suddenly decay.
     Go not yet away, bright soul of the sad year;
     The earth is hell when thou leav'st to appear.

What, shall those flowers that deck'd thy garland erst,
Upon thy grave be wastefully dispers'd?
O trees, consume your sap in sorrow's source;
Streams, turn to tears your tributary course.
    Go not yet hence, bright soul of the sad year;
    The earth is hell, when thou leav'st to appear.

[
The satyrs and wood-nymphs go out singing, and leave Summer and Winter and Autumn with Vertumnus on the stage
.]

WILL SUMMERS
: A couple of pretty boys, if they would wash their faces and were well breeched an hour or two. The rest of the green men have reasonable voices, good to sing catches, or the great Jowben
³⁰
by the fire's side, in a winter's evening. But let us hear what Summer can say for himself, why he should not be hissed at.

SUMMER
: What pleasure alway lasts? No joy endures:
Summer I was, I am not as I was;
Harvest and age have whit'ned my green head:
On Autumn now and Winter must I lean.
Needs must he fall whom none but foes uphold.
Thus must the happiest man have his black day:
Omnibus una manet nox, et calcanda semel via lethi
.
³¹
This month have I lain languishing a-bed,
Looking each hour to yield my life and throne;
And died I had in deed unto the earth,
But that Eliza, England's beauteous Queen,
On whom all seasons prosperously attend,
Forbad the execution of my fate,
Until her joyful progress
³²
was expired
For her doth Summer live, and linger here,
And wisheth long to live to her content:
But wishes are not had when they wish well.
I must depart, my death-day is set down:
To these two must I leave my wheaten crown.
So unto unthrifts rich men leave their lands,
Who in an hour consume long labour's gains.
True is it that divinest Sidney sung,
‘Oh, he is marred, that is for others made.'
³³
Come near, my friends, for I am near my end.
In presence of this honourable train,
Who love me (for I patronize their sports),
Mean I to make my final testament:
But first I'll call my officers to count,
And of the wealth I gave them to dispose,
Know what is left, I may know what to give.
Vertumnus then, that turn'st the year about,
Summon them one by one to answer me;
First Ver, the Spring, unto whose custody
I have committed more than to the rest:
The choice of all my fragrant meads and flowers,
And what delights so'er nature affords.

VERTUMNUS
: I will, my Lord. Ver, lusty Ver, by the name of lusty Ver, come into the court! Or lose a mark in issues.
³⁴

[
Enter Ver with his train, overlaid with suits of green moss, representing short grass, singing
.]

THE SONG

Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king,
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring;
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
Cuckoo, jug jug, pu we, to witta woo.

The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay,
Cuckoo, jug, jug, pu we, to witta woo.

The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit;
In every street these tunes our ears do greet,
Cuckoo, jug, jug, pu we, to witta woo.

Spring, the sweet spring.

WILL SUMMERS
: By my troth, they have voices as clear as crystal This is a pretty thing, if it be for nothing but to go a-begging with.

SUMMER
: Believe me, Ver, but thou art pleasant bent. This humour should import a harmless mind: Know'st thou the reason why I sent for thee?

VER
: No, faith, nor care not whether I do or no. If you will dance a galliard, so it is: if not

Falangtado,
³⁵
Falangtado, to wear the black and yellow:
³⁶

Falangtado, Falangtado, my mates are gone; I'll follow.

SUMMER
: Nay, stay awhile, we must confer and talk.
Ver, call to mind I am thy sovereign Lord,
And what thou hast, of me thou hast and hold'st
Unto no other end I sent for thee,
But to demand a reckoning at thy hands,
How well or ill thou hast employed my wealth.