Rosader First let the heavens conspire to pull me down, And heaven and earth as abject quite refuse me; Let sorrows stream about my hateful bower, Rosalynde Then Rosalynde will grace thee with her love, Then Rosalynde will have thee still in mind. Rosader Then let me triumph more than Tithon's dear, Since Rosalynde will Rosader respect: And say that Rosalynde is only pitiful, When thus they had finished their courting eglogue in such a familiar clause,' Ganimede as augur of some good fortunes to light upon their affections, began to be thus pleasant: "How now, forester, have I not fitted your turn? Have I not played the woman handsomely, and showed myself as coy in grants, as courteous in desires, and been as full of suspicion as men of flattery? And yet to salve all, jumped3 I not all up with the sweet union of love? Did not Rosalynde content her Rosader?" The forester at this smiling, shook his head, and folding his arms made this merry reply: "Truth, gentle swain, Rosader hath his Rosalynde; but as Ixion had Juno, who, thinking to possess a goddess, only embraced a cloud. In these imaginary fruitions of fancy, I resemble the birds that fed themselves with Zeuxis' painted grapes; but they grew so lean with pecking at shadows that they were glad with Esop's cock to scrape for a barley cornel; so fareth it with me, who to feed myself with the hope of my mistress' favours, soothe myself in thy suits, and only in conceit reap a wished-for content. But if my food be no better than such amorous dreams, Venus at the year's end shall find me but a lean lover. Yet do I take these follies for high fortunes, and hope these feigned affections do divine some unfeigned end of ensuing fancies." "And thereupon," quoth Aliena, "I'll play the priest. From this day forth Ganimede shall call thee husband, and thou shalt call Ganimede wife, and so we'll have a marriage." "Content," quoth Rosader, and laughed. "Content," quoth Ganimede, and changed as red as a rose. And so with a smile and a blush they made up this jesting match, that after proved to a marriage in earnest; Rosader full little thinking he had wooed and won his Rosalynde. . . ROBERT GREENE (1560?-1592) FROM A GROAT'S WORTH OF WIT, BOUGHT WITH A MILLION OF REPENTANCE On the other side of the hedge sat one that heard his sorrow, who getting over, came towards him, and brake off his passion. When he approached, he saluted Roberto in this sort. "Gentleman," quoth he, "(for so you seem) I have by chance heard you discourse some part of your grief; which appeareth to be more than you will discover, or I can conceit.' But if you vouchsafe such simple comfort as my ability will yield, assure yourself that I will endeavour to do the best, that either may procure your profit, or bring you pleasure: the rather, for that I suppose you are a scholar, and pity it is men of learning should live in lack. Roberto wondering to hear such good words, for that this iron age affords few that esteem of virtue, returned him thankful gratulations, and (urged by necessity) uttered his present grief, beseeching his advice how he might be employed. "Why, easily," quoth he, "and greatly to your benefit: for men of my profession get by scholars their whole living." "What is your profession?" said Roberto. "Truly, sir," said he, "I am a player." "A player," quoth Roberto, "I took you rather for a gentleman of great living, for if by outward habit men should be censured, I tell you you would be taken for a substantial man." "So am I, where I dwell (quoth the player), reputed able at my proper cost to build a windmill. What though the world once went hard with me, when I was fain to carry my playing fardel a footback; Tempora mutantur,3 I know you know the meaning of it better than I, but I thus construe it; it is otherwise now; for my very share in playing apparel will not be sold for two hundred pounds." "Truly (said Roberto) it is 1 conceive 2 condescend to accept 3 times change strange, that you should so prosper in that vain practice, for that it seems to me your voice is nothing gracious." "Nay then," said the player, "I mislike your judgment: why, I am as famous for Delphrigus, and the King of Fairies, as ever was any of my time. The Twelve Labours of Hercules have I terribly thundered on the stage, and placed three scenes of the Devil on the Highway to Heaven." "Have ye so? (said Roberto) then I pray you pardon me." "Nay, more (quoth the player), I can serve to make a pretty speech, for I was a country author; passing at a moral,' for it was I that penned the Moral of Man's Wit, the Dialogue of Dives, and for seven years space was absolute interpreter of the puppets. But now my almanac is out of date. The people make no estimation, Was not this pretty for a plain rhyme extempore? if ye will, ye shall have more." "Nay it is enough," said Roberto, "but how mean you to use me?" "Why sir, in making plays," said the other, "for which you shall be well paid, if you will take the pains." Roberto perceiving no remedy, thought best in respect of his present necessity, to try his wit, and went with him willingly: who lodged him at the town's end in a house of retail, where what happened our poet you shall hereafter hear. There, by conversing with bad company, he grew A malo in peius, falling from one vice to another, and so having found a vein3 to finger crowns he grew cranker than Lucanio, who by this time began to droop, being thus dealt withal by Lamilia. She having bewitched him with her enticing wiles, caused him to consume, in less than two years, that infinite treasure gathered by his father with so many a poor man's curse. His lands sold, his jewels pawned, his money wasted, he was cashiered by Lamilia that had cozened him of all. Then walked he, like one of Duke Humfrey's squires, in a threadbare cloak, his hose drawn out with his heels, his shoes unseamed, lest his feet should sweat with heat: now (as witless as he was) he remembered his father's words, his kindness to his brother, his carelessness of himself. In this sorrow he sat down on penniless bench; where, when Opus and Usus' told him by the chimes in his stomach it was time to fall unto meat, he was fain with the 1 Morality Play from bad to worse a inclination • worse need and custom camelion to feed upon the air, and make patience his best repast. While he was at his feast, Lamilia came flaunting by, garnished with the jewels whereof she beguiled him: which sight served to close his stomach after his cold cheer. Roberto, hearing of his brother's beggery, albeit he had little remorse' of his miserable state, yet did he seek him out, to use him as a property,2 whereby Lucanio was somewhat provided for. But being of simple nature, he served but for a block to whet Roberto's wit on; which the poor fool perceiving, he forsook all other hopes of life, and fell to be a notorious pandar: in which detested course he continued till death. But, Roberto, now famoused for an arch playmaking poet, his purse like the sea sometime swelled, anon like the same sea fell to a low ebb; yet seldom he wanted, his labours were so well esteemed. Marry, this rule he kept, whatever he fingered aforehand was the certain means to unbind a bargain, and, being asked why he so slightly dealt with them that did him good, "It becomes me," saith he, "to be contrary to the world, for commonly when vulgar men receive earnest, they do perform, when I am paid anything aforehand I break my promise." He had shift of lodgings, where in every place his hostess writ up the woeful remembrance of him, his laundress, and his boy; for they were ever his in household, beside retainers in sundry other places. His company were lightly3 the lewdest persons in the land, apt for pilefrey, perjury, forgery, or any villany. Of these he knew the casts to cogat cards, cozen at dice: by these he learned the legerdemains of nips, foisters, cony-catchers, crossbiters, lifts, high lawyers, and all the rabble of that unclean generation of vipers: and pithily could he paint out their whole courses of craft: So cunning he was in all crafts, as nothing rested in him almost but craftiness. How often the gentlewoman his wife laboured vainly to recall him, is lamentable to note: but as one given over to all lewdness, he communicated her sorrowful lines among his loose trulls, that jested at her bootless laments. If he could any way get credit on scores, he would then brag his creditors carried stones, comparing every round circle to a groaning O, procured by a painful burden. The shameful end of sundry his consorts, deservedly punished for their amiss,' wrought 1 pity 2 tool 3 easily • cheat • different kinds of pickpockets and thieves • companions 7 crime no compunction in his heart: of which one, brother to a brothel 1 he kept, was trussed under a tree' as round as a ball.3 To some of his swearing companions thus it happened: A crew of them sitting in a tavern carousing, it fortuned an honest gentleman, and his friend, to enter their room: some of them being acquainted with him, in their domineering drunken vein, would have no nay, but down he must needs sit with them; being placed, no remedy there was, but he must needs keep even compass with their unseemly carousing. Which he refusing, they fell from high words to sound strokes, so that with much ado the gentleman saved his own, and shifted from their company. Being gone, one of these tiplers forsooth lacked a gold ring, the other sware they see the gentleman take it from his hand. Upon this the gentleman was indicted before a judge: these honest men are deposed: whose wisdom weighing the time of the brawl, gave light to the jury what power wine-washing poison had: they, according unto conscience, found the gentleman not guilty, and God released by that verdict the innocent. With his accusers thus it fared: one of them for murder was worthily executed: the other never since prospered: the third, sitting not long after upon a lusty horse, the beast suddenly died under him: God amend the man! Roberto every day acquainted with these examples, was notwithstanding nothing bettered, but rather hardened in wickedness. At last was that place justified, "God warneth men by dreams and visions in the night, and by known examples in the day, but if he return not, he comes upon him with judgment that shall be felt." For now when the number of deceits caused Roberto be hateful almost to all men, his immeasurable drinking had made him the perfect image of the dropsy, and the loathsome scourge of lust tyrannised in his loves: living in extreme poverty, and having nothing to pay but chalk,' which now his host accepted not for current, this miserable man lay comfortlessly languishing, having but one groat left (the just proportion of his father's legacy) which looking on, he cried: "Oh now it is too late! too late to buy wit with thee: and therefore will I see if I can sell to careless youth what I negligently forgot to buy." And therefore (while life gives leave) will send warning to my old consorts, which have lived as loosely as myself, albeit weakness will scarce suffer me to write, yet to my fellow scholars about this City, will I direct these few ensuing lines. To those Gentlemen his Quondam acquaintance, that spend their wits in making Plays, R. G. wisheth a better exercise, and wisdom to prevent his extremities. If woeful experience may move you (gentlemen) to beware, or unheard-of wretchedness entreat you to take heed, I doubt not but you will look back with sorrow on your time past, and endeavour with repentance to spend that which is to come. Wonder not (for with thee will I first begin), thou famous gracer of tragedians, that Greene, who hath said with thee like the fool in his heart, "There is no God," should now give glory unto his greatness: for penetrating is his power, his hand lies heavy upon me, he hath spoken unto me with a voice of thunder, and I have felt he is a God that can punish enemies. Why should thy excellent wit, his gift, be so blinded, that thou shouldst give no glory to the giver? Is it pestilent Machiavellian policy that thou hast studied? O Punish folly! What are his rules but mere confused mockeries, able to extirpate in small time the generation of mankind. For if Sic volo, sic jubeo, hold in those that are able to command: and if it be lawful Fas et nefas to do anything that is beneficial, only tyrants should possess the earth, and they striving to exceed in tyranny, should each to other be a slaughter man; till the mightiest outliving all, one stroke were left for Death, that in one age man's life should end. The brother of this Diabolical Atheism is dead, and in his life had never the felicity he aimed at: but as he began in craft, lived in 6 5 fear and ended in despair. Quam inscrutabilia sunt Dei judicia?. This murderer of many brethren had his conscience seared like Cain: this betrayer of Him that gave his life for him inherited the portion of Judas: this apostata perished as ill as Julian: and wilt thou, my friend, be his disciple? Look unto me, by him persuaded to that liberty, and thou shalt find it an infernal bondage. I know the least of my demerits merit this miserable death, but willful striving against known truth, exceedeth all the terrors of my soul. Defer not (with me) till this last point of extremity; for little knowest thou how in the end thou shalt be visited. With thee I join young Juvenal, that biting satirist, that lastly with me together writ a comedy. Sweet boy, might I advise thee, be advised, and get not many enemies by bitter words: inveigh against vain men, for thou canst do it, no man better, no man so well: thou hast a liberty to reprove all, and none more; for, one being spoken to, all are offended; none being blamed, no man is injured. Stop shallow water still running, it will rage; tread on a worm and it will turn: then blame not scholars vexed with sharp lines, if they reprove thy too much liberty of reproof. And thou no less deserving than the other two, in some things rarer, in nothing inferior; driven (as myself) to extreme shifts, a little have I to say to thee: and were it not an idolatrous oath, I would swear by sweet S. George, thou art unworthy better hap, sith thou dependest on so mean a stay. Base minded men all three of you, if by my misery ye be not warned: for unto none of you, like me, sought those burrs to cleave: those puppets, I mean, that speak from our mouths, those antics garnished in our colours. Is it not strange that I, to whom they all have been beholding: is it not like that you, to whom they all have been beholding, shall, were ye in that case that I am now, be both at once of them forsaken? Yes, trust them not: for there is an upstart Crow, beautified with our feathers, that with his Tiger's heart wrapped in a Player's hide, supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you: and being an absolute Johannes fac totum, is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country. O that I might entreat your rare wits to be employed in more profitable courses: and let those Apes imitate your past excellence, and never more 'How inscrutable are the judgments of God * since acquaint them with your admired inventions. I know the best husband of you all will never prove an usurer, and the kindest of them all will never prove a kind nurse: yet whilst you may, seek you better masters; for it is pity men of such rare wits, should be subject to the pleasures of such rude grooms. In this I might insert two more, that both have writ against these buckram gentlemen: but let their own works serve to witness against their own wickedness, if they persevere to maintain any more such peasants. For other new comers, I leave them to the mercy of these painted monsters, who (I doubt not) will drive the best minded to despise them: for the rest, it skills not though they make a jest at them. But now return I again to you three, knowing my misery is to you no news: and let me heartily entreat you to be warned by my harms. Delight not, as I have done, in irreligious oaths; for from the blasphemer's house a curse shall not depart. Despise drunkenness, which wasteth the wit, and maketh men all equal unto beasts. Fly lust, as the deathsman of the soul, and defile not the temple of the Holy Ghost. Abhor those epicures, whose loose life hath made religion loathsome to your ears: and when they sooth you with terms of mastership, remember Robert Greene, whom they have so often flattered, perishes now for want of comfort. Remember, gentlemen, your lives are like so many lighted tapers, that are with care delivered to all of you to maintain; these with wind-puffed wrath may be extinguished, which drunkenness put out, which negligence let fall: for man's time of itself is not so short, but it is more shortened by sin. The fire of my light is now at the last snuff, and the want of wherewith to sustain it, there is no substance left for life to feed on. Trust not then, I beseech ye, to such weak stays: for they are as changeable in mind, as in many attires. Well, my hand is tired, and I am forced to leave where I would begin; for a whole book cannot contain these wrongs, which I am forced to knit up in some few lines of words. Desirous that you should live, though Robert Greene. FROM THE ART OF CONY-CATCHING1 There be requisite effectually to act the Art of Cony-catching, three several parties: the setter, the verser, and the barnacle. The 1 bunco-steering 2 nature of the setter, is to draw any person familiarly to drink with him, which person they call the cony, and their method is according to the man they aim at: if a gentleman, merchant, or apprentice, the cony is the more easily caught, in that they are soon induced to play, and therefore I omit the circumstance which they use in catching of them. And for because the poor country farmer or yeoman is the mark which they most of all shoot at, who they know comes not empty to the term,' I will discover the means they put in practice to bring in some honest, simple and ignorant men to their purpose. The cony-catchers, appareled like honest civil gentlemen, or good fellows, with a smooth face, as if butter would not melt in their mouths, after dinner when the clients are come from Westminster Hall, and are at leisure to walk up and down Paul's, Fleet-street, Holborn, the Strand, and such common haunted places, where these cozening companions attend only to spy out a prey: who as soon as they see a plain country fellow well and cleanly appareled, either in a coat of homespun russet, or of frieze, as the time requires, and a side pouch at his side, "There is a cony," saith one. At that word out flies the setter, and overtaking the man, begins to salute him thus: "Sir, God save you, you are welcome to London, how doth all our good friends in the country, I hope they be all in health?" The country-man seeing a man so courteous he knows not, half in a brown study at this strange salutation, perhaps makes him this answer: "Sir, all our friends in the country are well, thanks be to God, but truly I know you not, you must pardon me." "Why, sir," saith the setter, guessing by his tongue what country man he is, are you not such a country man?" If he says yes, then he creeps upon him closely. If he say no, then straight the setter comes over him thus: "In good sooth, sir, I know you by your face and have been in your company before, I pray you, if without offence, let me crave your name, and the place of your abode." The simple man straight tells him where he dwells, his name, and who be his next neighbours, and what gentlemen dwell about him. After he hath learned all of him, then he comes over his fellow kindly: "Sir, though I have been somewhat bold to be inquisitive of your name, yet hold me excused, for I took you for a friend of mine, but since by mistaking I have made you slack your business, we'll drink a 1 session of court 2 wide quart of wine, or a pot of ale together." If the fool be so ready as to go, then the cony is caught; but if he smack the setter, and smells a rat by his clawing, and will not drink with him, then away goes the setter, and discourseth to the verser the name of the man, the parish he dwells in, and what gentlemen are his near neighbours. With that away goes he, and crossing the man at some turning, meets him full in the face, and greets him thus: "What, goodman Barton, how fare all our friends about you? You are well met, I have the wine for you, you are welcome to town." The poor countryman hearing himself named by a man he knows not, marvels, and answers that he knows him not, and craves pardon. "Not me, goodman Barton, have you forgot me? Why I am such a man's kinsman, your neighbour not far off; how doth this or that good gentleman my friend? Good Lord that I should be out of your remembrance, I have been at your house divers times." "Indeed sir," saith the farmer, "are you such a man's kinsman? Surely, sir, if you had not challenged acquaintance of me, I should never have known you. I have clean forgot you, but I know the good gentleman your cousin well, he is my very good neighbour:" "And for his sake," saith the verser, "we'll drink afore we part." Haply the man thanks him, and to the wine or ale they go. Then ere they part, they make him a cony, and so ferret-claw1 him at cards, that they leave him as bare of money, as an ape of a tail. Thus have the filthy fellows their subtle fetches to draw on poor men to fall into their cozening practices. Thus like consuming moths of the commonwealth, they prey upon the ignorance of such plain souls as measure all by their own honesty, not regarding either conscience, or the fatal revenge that's threatened for such idle and licentious persons, but do employ all their wits to overthrow such as with their handythrift satisfy their hearty thirst, they preferring cozenage before labour, and choosing an idle practice before any honest form of good living. Well, to the method again of taking up their conies. If the poor countryman smoke them still, and will not stoop unto either of their lures, then one, either the verser, or the setter, or some of their crew, for there is a general fraternity betwixt them, steppeth before the cony as he goeth, and letteth drop twelve pence in the highway, that of force the cony must see it. The countryman spying the shilling, 1 cheat 2 necessarily |