A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Ix Part 41

STUDIOSO.

Let's in a private song our cunning try, Before we sing to stranger company.

[PHILOMUSUS _sings. They tune_.

How can he sing, whose voice is hoa.r.s.e with care?

How can he play, whose heart-strings broken are?

How can he keep his rest, that ne'er found rest?

How can he keep his time, whom time ne'er bless'd?

Only he can in sorrow bear a part With untaught hand and with untuned heart.

Fond hearts, farewell, that swallow'd have my youth; Adieu, vain muses, that have wrought my ruth; Repent, fond sire, that train'dst thy hapless son In learning's lore, since bounteous alms are done.

Cease, cease, harsh tongue: untuned music, rest; Entomb thy sorrows in thy hollow breast.

STUDIOSO.

Thanks, Philomusus, for thy pleasant song.

O, had this world a touch of juster grief, Hard rocks would weep for want of our relief.

PHILOMUSUS.

The cold of woe hath quite untun'd my voice, And made it too-too hard for list'ning ear: Time was, in time of my young fortune's spring, I was a gamesome boy, and learn'd to sing-- But say, fellow-musicians, you know best whither we go: at what door must we imperiously beg?

JACK FIDDLERS.

Here dwells Sir Raderic and his son. It may be now at this good time of new year he will be liberal. Let us stand near, and draw.

PHILOMUSUS.

Draw, callest thou it? Indeed, it is the most desperate kind of service that ever I adventured on.

ACTUS V., SCAENA 2.

_Enter the two_ PAGES.

SIR RADERIC'S PAGE.

My master bids me tell you that he is but newly fallen asleep, and you, base slaves, must come and disquiet them! What, never a basket of capons? ma.s.s, and if he comes, he'll commit you all.

AMORETTO'S PAGE.

Sirrah Jack, shall you and I play Sir Raderic and Amoretto, and reward these fiddlers? I'll my Master Amoretto, and give them as much as he useth.

SIR RADERIC'S PAGE.

And I my old Master Sir Raderic. Fiddlers, play. I'll reward you; faith, I will.

AMORETTO'S PAGE.

Good faith, this pleaseth my sweet mistress admirably. Cannot you play _Twitty, t.w.a.tty, fool_? or, _To be at her, to be at her_?

SIR RADERIC'S PAGE.

Have you never a song of Master Dowland's making?

AMORETTO'S PAGE.

Or, _Hos ego versiculos feci_, &c. A pox on it! my Master Amoretto useth it very often: I have forgotten the verse.

SIR RADERIC'S PAGE.

Sir Theon,[131] here are a couple of fellows brought before me, and I know not how to decide the cause: look in my Christmas-book, who brought me a present.

AMORETTO'S PAGE.

On New-Year's day, goodman Fool brought you a present; but goodman Clown brought you none.

SIR RADERIC'S PAGE.

Then the right is on goodman Fool's side.

AMORETTO'S PAGE.

My mistress is so sweet, that all the physicians in the town cannot make her stink; she never goes to the stool. O, she is a most sweet little monkey. Please your worship, good father, yonder are some would speak with you.

SIR RADERIC'S PAGE.

What, have they brought me anything? If they have not, say I take physic. [SIR RADERIC'S _voice within_.] Forasmuch, fiddlers, as I am of the peace, I must needs love all weapons and instruments that are for the peace, among which I account your fiddles, because they can neither bite nor scratch. Marry, now, finding your fiddles to jar, and knowing that jarring is a cause of breaking the peace, I am, by the virtue of my office and place, to commit your quarrelling fiddles to close prisonment in their cases. [_The fiddlers call within_.] Sha ho!

Richard! Jack!

AMORETTO'S PAGE.

The fool within mars our play without. Fiddlers, set it on my head. I use to size my music, or go on the score for it: I'll pay it at the quarter's end.

SIR RADERIC'S PAGE.

Farewell, good Pan! sweet Thamyras,[132] adieu! Dan Orpheus, a thousand times farewell!

JACK FIDDLERS.

You swore you would pay us for our music.

SIR RADERIC'S PAGE.

For that I'll give Master Recorder's law, and that is this: there is a double oath--a formal oath and a material oath; a material oath cannot be broken, the formal oath may be broken. I swore formally. Farewell, fiddlers.

PHILOMUSUS.

Farewell, good wags, whose wits praiseworth I deem, Though somewhat waggish; so we all have been.

STUDIOSO.

Faith, fellow-fiddlers, here's no silver found in this place; no, not so much as the usual Christmas entertainment of musicians, a black jack of beer and a Christmas pie.

[_They walk aside from their fellows_.

PHILOMUSUS.

Where'er we in the wide world playing be, Misfortune bears a part, and mars our melody; Impossible to please with music's strain, Our heart-strings broke are, ne'er to be tun'd again.

STUDIOSO.

Then let us leave this baser fiddling trade; For though our purse should mend, our credits fade.

PHILOMUSUS.

Full glad am I to see thy mind's free course.

Declining from this trencher-waiting trade.

Well, may I now disclose in plainer guise What erst I meant to work in secret wise; My busy conscience check'd my guilty soul, For seeking maintenance by base va.s.salage; And then suggested to my searching thought A shepherd's poor, secure, contented life, On which since then I doated every hour, And meant this same hour in [a] sadder plight, To have stol'n from thee in secrecy of night.

STUDIOSO.

Dear friend, thou seem'st to wrong my soul too much, Thinking that Studioso would account That fortune sour which thou accountest sweet; Not[133] any life to me can sweeter be, Than happy swains in plain of Arcady.