Friar Bacon and Friar Bongay

THE HONORABLE HISTORY OF FRYER BACON . Enter Edward the first , male contented with Lacy Earle of Lincolne , Iohn Warren Earle of Sussex , and Ermsby Gentleman : Raph Simnell the Kings foole . Lacie . WHY lookes my Lord like to a troubled skie , When heauens bright shine , is shadowed with a fog : Alate we ran the Deere and through the lawnds Stript with our Nagges the lofty frolicke Bucks , That scudded fore the teisers like the wind , Nere was the Deere of merry Fresingfield , So lustily pull'd downe by iolly mates , Nor sharde the Farmers such fat venizon , So frankly dealt this hundred yeeres before : Nor haue I seene my Lord more frolicke in the chace , And now chang'd to a melancholy dumpe . Warren . After the Prince got to the Keepers lodge And had bin iocand in the house a while : Tossing of Ale and milke in countrie cannes , Whether it was the Countries sweet content , Or else the bonny Damsell fil'd vs drinke That seem'd so stately in her stammell red : Or that a qualme did crosse his stomacke then , But straight he fell into his passions . Ermsby . Sirra Raphe , what say you to your master , Shall he thus all amort liue malecontent ? Raphe . Hearest thou Ned ? nay looke if he will speake to me . Edward . What saist thou to me , Foole ? Raphe .

I pree thee tell me Ned , art thou in loue with the Keepers daughter ?

Edward . How if I be , what then ? Raphe . Why then sirra , I le teach thee how to deceiue Loue . Edward . How Raphe . Raphe .

Marry sirra Ned , thou shalt put on my cap , and my coat , and my dagger , and I will put on thy cloaths , and thy sword , and so thou shalt be my foole .

Edward . And what of this ? Raphe .

Why so thou shalt beguile Loue , for Loue is such a proud scab , that he will neuer meddle with fooles nor children . Is not Raphes counsell good , Ned .

Edward . Tell me Ned Lacie , didst thou marke the mayd , How liuely in her country weedes she look't ? A bonier wench all Suffolke cannot yeeld , All Suffolke , nay all England holds none such . Raphe . Sirra , Will Ermsby , Ned is deceiued . Ermsby . Why Raphe ? Raphe .

He sayes all England hath no such , and I say , and I le stand to it , there is one better in Warwickeshire .

Warren . How prouest thou that Raphe ? Raphe .

Why is the Abbot a learned man , and hath he read many bookes , and thinkest thou he hath not more learning then thou to choose a bonny wench , yes warrant I thee by his whole Grammar .

Ermsby . A good reason Raphe . Edward . I tell thee Lacie , that her sparkling eyes Doe lighten forth sweet Loues alluring fire : And in her tresses she doth fold the lookes Of such a gaze vpon her golden haire , Her bashfull white mixt with the mornings red , Luna doth boast vpon her louely cheekes , Her front is beauties table wherr she paints The glories of her gorgious excellence : Her teeth are shelues of precious Margarites , Richly enclosed with ruddie curroll cleues . Tush Lacie , she is beauties ouermatch , If thou suruaist her curious imagerie . Lacie . I grant ( my Lord ) the Damsell is as faire , As simple Suffolks homely townes can yeeld : But in the Court be quainter Dames then she , Whose faces are enricht with honors taint , Whose beauties stand vpon the stage of fame , And vaunt their trophies in the Court of Loue . Edw. Ah Ned , but hadst thou watcht her as my selfe , And seene the secret beauties of the maid , Their courtly coinesse were but foolery . Ermsby . Why how watcht you her my Lord ? Edward . When as she swept like Venus through the house , And in her shape fast foulded vp my thoughts : Into the Milkehouse went I with the maid , And there amongst the cream-boles she did shine , As Pallas , mongst her Princely huswiferie : She turnd her smocke ouer her lilly armes , And diued them into milke to run her cheese : But whiter then the milke her cristall skin , Checked with lines of Azur made her blush , That Art or Nature durst bring for compare , Ermsby if thou hadst seene as I did note it well , How beauty plaid the huswife , how this girle Like Lucrece laid her fingers to the worke , Thou wouldst with Tarquine hazard Rome and all To win the louely maid of Fresingfield . Raphe . Sirra Ned , wouldst faine haue her ? Edward . I Raphe . Raphe ,

Why Ned I haue laid the plot in my head , thou shalt haue her already .

Edward . I le giue thee a new coat and learne me that . Raphe .

Why sirra Ned , wee ll ride to Oxford to Fryer Bacon , oh hee is a braue scholler sirra , they say he is a braue Nigromancer , that he can make women of diuells , and he can iuggle cats into Costermongers .

Edward . And how then Raphe ? Raphe .

Mary sirra , thou shalt goe to him , and because thy father Harry shall not misse thee , he shall turne me to thee ; and I le to the Court , and I le Prince it out , and he shall make thee either a silken purse , full of gold , or else a fine wrought smocke .

Edward . But how shall I haue the mayd ? Raphe .

Marry sirra , if thou be'st a silken purse full of gold , then on Sundayes she 'le hang thee by her side , and you must not say a word . Now sir when she comes into a great presse of people , for feare of the Cut-purse on a sudden she 'l swap thee into her plackerd , then sirra being there , you may plead for your selfe .

Ermsby . Excellent policy . Edward . But how if I be a wrought smocke ? Raphe .

Then she 'le put thee into her chest and lay thee into Lauender , and vpon some good day she 'le put thee on , and at night when you goe to bed , then being turn'd from a smocke to a man , you may make vp the match .

Lacie . Wonderfully wisely counselled , Raphe . Edward . Raphe shall haue a new Coate . Raphe . God thanke you when I haue it on my backe , Ned . Edward . Lacie the foole hath laid a perfect plot , For why our Country Margret is so coy , And stands so much vpon her honest points , That marriage or no market with the mayd : Ermsby , it must be nigromanticke spels , And charmes of Art that must inchaine her loue , Or else shall Edward neuer win the girle , Therefore my wags we 'le horse vs in the morne , And poast to Oxford to this iolly Fryer , Bacon shall by his magicke doe this deed . Warren . Content my Lord , and that s a speedy way To weane these head-strong puppies from the teat . Edward . I am vnknowne , not taken for the Prince , They onely deeme vs frolicke Courtiers , That reuell thus among our Lieges game : Therefore I haue deuised a policy , Lacie , thou knowst next Friday is St. Iames , And then the Country flockes to Harlston faire , Then will the Keepers daughter frolicke there , And ouer-shine the troupe of all the maides , That come to see , and to be seene that day . Haunt thee disguis'd among the Countrie swaines , Faine th' art a Farmers sonne , not farre from thence , Espie her loues , and who she liketh best : Coat him , and court her to controle the clowne , Say that the Courtier tyred all in greene , That helpt her handsomly to run her cheese , And fild her fathers lodge with venison , Commends him , and sends fairings to her selfe , Buy something worthy of her parentage , Not worth her beauty , for Lacie , then the Faire Affords no Iewell fitting for the mayd : And when thou talkest of me , note if she blush , Oh then she loues , but if her cheekes waxe pale , Disdaine it is . Lacie , send how she fares , And spare no time nor cost to win her loues . Lacie . I will , my Lord , so execute this charge , As if that Lacie were in loue with her . Edward . Send letters speedily to Oxford of the newes . Raphe .

And sirra Lacie , buy me a thousand thousand million of fine bells .

Lacie . What wilt thou doe with them , Raphe ? Raphe .

Mary euery time that Ned sighs for the Keepers daughter , I le tye a bell about him , so within three or foure dayes I will send word to his father Harry , that his sonne and my master Ned is become Loues Morris dance .

Edward . Well , Lacie , looke with care vnto thy charge , And I will haste to Oxford to the Fryer , That he by Art , and thou by secret gifts , Maist make me Lord of merry Fresingfield . Lacie . God send your Honour your hearts desire . Exeunt . Enter Fryer Bacon , with Miles his poore scholer with bookes vnder his arme , with them Burden , Mason , Clement , three Doctors . Bacon . Miles , where are you ? Miles . Hic sum doctissime & reuerendissime Doctor . Bacon . Attulisti nos libros meos de Necromantia . Miles . Ecce quam bonum & quam incundum habitare libros in vnum . Bacon . Now Masters of our Academick State , That rule in Oxford Vice-roies in your place , Whose heads containe Maps of the liberall Arts , Spending your time in depth of learned skill , Why flocke you thus to Bacons secret Cell , A Fryer newly stalde in Brazennose , Say what s your minde , that I may make reply . Burden . Bacon , we heare , that song we haue suspect , That thou art read in Magicks mystery , In Piromancy , to diuine by flames , To tell by Hadromaticke , ebbes and tides , By Aeromancy , to discouer doubts , To plaine out questions , as Apollo did . Bacon . Well Master Burden , what of all this ? Miles .

Mary sir , he doth but fulfill by rehearsing of these names , the Fable of the Fox & the Grapes , that which is aboue vs , pertaines nothing to vs .

Burden . I tell thee Bacon , Oxford makes report , Nay England , and the Court of Henry sayes , Th art making of a brazen head by Art , Which shall vnfold strange doubts and Aphorismes , And read a Lecture in Philosophy , And by the helpe of Deuils and ghastly fiends , Thou meanst ere many yeeres or dayes be past , To compasse England with a wall of brasse . Bacon . And what of this ? Miles .

What of this , Master ? why he doth speake mystically , for he knowes if your skill faile to make a brazen head , yet Mother Waters strong Ale will fit his turne to make him haue a copper nose .

Clement . Bacon , we come not greeuing at thy skill , But ioying that our Academy yeelds A man suppos'd the wonder of the world , For if thy cunning worke these miracles , England and Europe shall admire thy fame , And Oxford shall in characters of brasse , And statues , such as were built vp in Rome , Eternize Fryer Bacon for his Art . Mason . Then gentle Fryer , tell vs thy intent . Bacon . Seeing you come as friends vnto the Fryer , Resolue you Doctors , Bacon can by bookes , Make storming Boreas thunder from his caue , And dimme faire Luna to a darke Eclipse , The great Arch-ruler , potentate of hell , Trembles , when Bacon bids him , or his fiends , Bow to the force of his Pentageron . What Art can worke , the frolicke Fryer knowes , And therefore will I turne my Magicke bookes , And straine out Nigromancie to the deepe , I haue contriu'd and fram'd a head of brasse , ( I made Belcephon hammer out the stuffe ) And that by Art shall read Philosophy , And I will strengthen England by my skill , That if ten Caesars liu'd and raign'd in Rome . With all the Legions Europe doth containe , They should not touch a grasse of English ground , The worke that Ninus reard at Babylon , The brazen walls fram'd by Semiramis , Carued out like to the portall of the Sunne , Shall not be such as rings the English strond : From Douer to the market place of Rye . Burden . Is this possible ? Miles . I le bring ye two or three witnesses . Burden . What be those ? Miles .

Marry sir , three or foure as honest Deuils , and good companions as any be in hell .

Mason . No doubt but Magicke may doe much in this , For he that reads but Mathematicke rules , Shall finde conclusions , that auaile to worke Wonders that passe the common sence of men . Burden . But Bacon roues a bow beyond his reach , And tels of more then Magicke can performe : Thinking to get a fame by fooleries , Haue I not past as farre in state of schooles , And read of many secrets ? yet to thinke . That heads of brasse can vtter any voyce , Or more to tell of deepe Philosophy , This is a Fable Aesope had forgot . Bacon . Burden , thou wrongst me in detracting thus , Bacon loues not to stuffe himselfe with lyes : But tell me fore these Doctors if thou dare , Of certaine questions I shall moue to thee . Burden . I will , aske what thou can . Miles .

Mary sir , hee 'le straight bee on your pick packe to know whether the feminine or the masculine gender be most worthy .

Bacon .

Were you not yesterday Master Burden at Henly vpon Themes ?

Burden . I was , what then ? Bacon What booke studyed you thereon all night ? Burden . i , none at all , I read not there a line . Bacon . Then Doctors , Fryer Bacons Art knowes nought . Clement .

What say you to this , Master Burden , doth hee not touch you ?

Burden . I passe not of his friuolous speeches . Miles .

Nay Master Burden , my master ere hee hath done with you , will turne you from a Doctor to a dunce , and shake you so small , that he will leaue you no more learning in you then is in Balams Asse .

Bacon . Masters , for that learned Burdens skill is deepe , And sore he doubts of Bacons Cabalisme : I le shew you why he haunts to Henly oft , Not Doctors for to taste the fragrant aire : But there to spend the night in Alcumy , To multiply with secret spels of Art . Thus priuat steales he learning from vs all , To proue my saying true , I le shew you straight , The booke he keepes at Henly for himselfe . Miles . Nay , now my master goes to coniuration , take heede . Bacon .

Masters , stand still , feare not , I le shewe you but his booke .

Here hee coniures .

Per omnes deos infernales Belcephon .

Enter a woman with a shoulder of mutton on a spit , and a Deuid . Miles .

Oh master cease your coniuration , or you spoile all , for her 's a she deuill come with a shoulder of mutton on a spit , you haue marde the deuils supper , but no doubt he thinkes our Colledge fare is slender , and so hath sent you his cooke with a shoulder of mutton to make it exceed .

Hostesse . Oh where am I , or what s become of me ? Bacon . What art thou ? Hostesse . Hostesse at Henly , mistresse of the Bell . Bacon . How camest thou here ? Hostesse . As I was in the kitchen mongst the maids , Spitting the meate against supper for my guesse : A motion moued me to looke forth of dore , No sooner had I pryed into the yard . But straight a whirlewind hoisted me from thence , And mounted me aloft vnto the cloudes : As in a trance I thought nor feared nought , Nor know I where or whither I was tane : Nor where I am , nor what these persons be . Bacon . No , know you not master Burden ? Hostesse . Oh yes good sir , he is my daily guest . What , master Burden , 't was but yesternight , That you and I at Henly plaid at cardes . Burden .

I know not what we did , a poxe of all coniuring Fryers .

Clement .

Now iolly Fryer tell vs , is this the booke that Burden is so carefull to looke on ?

Bacon . It is , but Burden , tell me now , Thinkest thou that Bacons Nicromanticke skill Cannot performe his head and wall of brasse , When he can fetch thine hostesse in such poste ? Miles .

I le warrant you , Master , if Master Burden could coniure as well as you , he would haue his booke euery night from Henly to study on at Oxford .

Mason . Burden , what are you mated by this frolicke Fryer ? Looke how he droops , his guilty conscience Driues him to bash and makes his hostesse blush . Bacon . Well Mistris for I will not haue you mist , You shall to Henly to cheere vp your guests Fore supper ginne . Burden , bid her adew , Say farewell to your hostesse fore she goes , Sirra away , and set her safe at home . Hostesse . Master Burden , when shall we see you at Henly ? Exeunt Hostesse and the Deuill . Burden . The Deuill take thee and Henly too . Miles . Master , shall I make a good motion ? Bacon . What s that ? Miles .

Mary sir , now that my hostesse is gone to prouide supper , coniure another spirit , and send Doctor Burden flying after .

Bacon . Thus Rulers of our Academicke State , You haue seene the Fryer frame his Art by proofe : And as the Colledge called Brazen-nose , Is vnder him , and he the Master there : So surely shall this head of brasse be fram'd , And yeeld forth strange and vncoth Aphorismes : And Hell and Heccate shall faile the Fryer , But I will circle England round with brasse . Miles . So be it , & nunc & semper , Amen . Exeunt omnes . Enter Margaret the faire mayd of Fresingfield , with Thomas and Ione , and other clownes : Lacie disguised in Country apparell . Thomas .

By my troth , Margret , here 's a wether is able to make a man call his father whorson , if this wether hold , we shall haue hay good chape , and butter and cheese at Harlston will beare no price .

Margret . Thomas , maids when they come to see the faire Count not to make a cope for dearth of hay , When we haue turn'd our butter to the salt , And set our cheese vpon the rackes . Then let our fathers prise it as they please , We Countrie sluts of merry Fresingfield , Come to buy needlesse noughts to make vs fine , And looke that young-men should be francke this day , And court vs with such fairings as they can . Phoebus is blithe and , frolicke , lookes from heauen , As when he courted louely Semele : Swearing the Pedlers shall haue empty packs , If that faire weather may make chapmen buy . Lacie . But louely Peggy Semele is dead , And therefore Phoebus from his Palace pries , And seeing such a sweet and seemely saint , Shewes all his glory for to court your selfe . Margret . This is a fairing gentle sir indeed , To sooth me vp with such smooth flatterie , But learne of me , your scoffe 's to broad before : Well Ione , our beauties must abide their iests , We serue the turne in iolly Fresingfield . Ione . Margret , a Farmers daughter for a Farmers sonne , I warrant you the meanest of vs both , Shall haue a mate to leade vs from the Church : But Thomas , what s the newes ? what in a dumpe ? Giue me your hand , we are neere a Pedlers shop , Out with your purse , we must haue fairings now . Thomas .

Faith Ione and shall , I le bestow a fairing on you , and then we will to the Tauern , and snap off a pint of wine or two .

All this while Lacie whispers Margret in the eare . Margret .

Whence are you sir , of Suffolke ? for your tearmes are finer then the common sort of men .

Lacy. Faith louely girle , I am of Beckles by , Your neighbour not aboue six miles from hence , A Farmers sonne that neuer was so quaint , But that he could doe courtesie to such Dames : But trust me Margret I am sent in charge , From him that reueld in your fathers house , And fild his Lodge with cheere and venison , Tyred in greene , he sent you this rich purse : His token that he helpt you run your cheese , And in the milkehouse chatted with your selfe . Margret . To me ? you forget your selfe . Lacy. Women are often weake in memory . Margret . Oh pardon sir , I call to minde the man , T were little manners to refuse his gift , And yet I hope he sends it not for loue : For we haue little leisure to debate of that . Ione .

What , Margret , blush not , maides must haue their loues .

Thomas .

Nay by the masse she lookes pale as if she were angrie .

Richard .

Sirra are you of Beckles ? I pray how doth goodman Cob ? my father bought a horse of him , I le tell you Margret , a were good to be a Gentlemans iade , for of all things the foule hilding could not abide a dung-cart .

Margret . How different is this Farmer from the rest , That earst as yet hath pleas'd my wandring sight His words are witty , quickened with a smile , His courtesie gentle , smelling of the Court , Facill and debonaire in all his deeds , Proportion'd as was Paris , when in gray , He courted Aenon in the vale by Troy . Great Lords haue come and pleaded for my loue , Who but the Keepers Lasse of Fresingfield ? And yet me thinkes this Farmers ioylly sonne , Passeth the proudest that hath pleas'd mine eye . But Peg disclose not that thou art in loue , And shew as yet no signe of loue to him , Although thou well wouldst wish him for thy loue : Keepe that to thee till time doth serue thy turne , To shew the griefe wherein they heart doth burne . Come Ione and Thomas , shall we to the Faire , You Beckles man will not forsake vs now . Lacy. Not whilst I may haue such quaint girles as you . Margret . Well if you chance to come by Fresingfield , Make but a step into the Keepers Lodge , And such poore fare as Woodmen can affoord , Butter and cheese , creame , and fat venizon , You shall haue store , and welcome therewithall . Lacy. Gramarcies Peggie , looke for me ere long . Exeunt omnes . Enter Henry the third , the Emperour , the King of Castile , Elinor his daughter , Iaques Vandermast a Germane . Henry . Great men of Europe , Monarkes of the West , Ring'd with the walls of old Oceanus , Whose lofty surges like the battlements , That compast high built Babell in with Towres , Welcome my Lords , welcome braue westerne Kings , To Englands shore , whose promontory cleeues , Shewes Albion is another little world , Welcome sayes English Henry to you all , Chiefly vnto the louely Eleonor , Who darde for Edwards sake cut through the seas , And venture as Agenors Damsell through the deepe , To get the loue of Henries wanton son . Castile . Englands rich Monarke braue Plantagenet , The Pyren mounts swelling aboue the clouds , That ward the wealthy Castile in with walls , Could not detaine the beautious Eleanor , But hearing of the same of Edwards youth , She darde to brooke Neptunus haughty pride , And bide the brunt of froward Eolus , Then may faire England welcome her the more . Elinor . After that English Henry by his Lords , Had sent Prince Edwards louely counterfeit , A present to the Castile Elinor , The comly pourtrait of so braue a man , The vertuous fame discoursed of his deeds , Edwards couragious resolution , Done at the holy Land fore Damas walls , Led both mine eye and thoughts in equall links , To like so of the English Monarchs sonne , That I attempted perils for his sake . Emperour . Where is the Prince , my Lord ? Henrie . He posted downe , not long since from the Court , To Suffolke side , to merry Fremingham , To sport himselfe amongst my fallow Deere , From thence by packets sent to Hampton house , We heare the Prince is ridden with his Lords , To Oxford in the Academy there , To heare dispute amongst the learned men : But we will send forth letters for my sonne , To will him come from Oxford to the Court . Emp. Nay rather Henry , let vs as we be , Ride for to visit Oxford with our traine , Faine would I see your Vniuersities , And what learned men your Academy yeelds , From Haspurg haue I brought a learned Clerke , To hold dispute with English Orators . This Doctor surnam'd Iaques Vandermast , A Germane borne , past into Padua , To Florence , and to faire Bolonia , To Paris , Rheims , and stately Orleans , And talking there with men of Art , put downe The chiefest of them all in Aphorismes , In Magicke , and the Mathematike rules , Now let vs Henry trie him in your Schooles . Henry . He shall my Lord , this motion likes me well , Wee le progresse straight to Oxford with our traines , And see what men our Academy brings . And wonder Vandermast welcome to me , In Oxford shalt thou finde a iolly Fryer , Cald Fryer Bacon , Englands only flowre , Set him but Non-plus in his magicke spels , And make him yeeld in Mathematicke rules , And for thy glory I will bind thy browes , Not with a Poets Garland made of Bayes , But with a Coronet of choicest gold , Whilst then we sit to Oxford with our troupes , Le ts in and banquet in our English Court . Exit . Enter Raphe Simnell in Edwards apparell , Edward , Warren , Ermsby , disguised . Raphe .

Where be these vagabond knaues , that they attend no better on their master ?

Edward .

If it please your Honour , we are ready at an inch .

Raphe .

Sirra Ned , I le haue no more poste-horse to ride on ,

I le haue another fetch . Ermsby .

I pray you how is that , my Lord ?

Raphe .

Mary sir , I le send to the Ile of Eely for foure or fiue dozen of Geese , and I le haue them tide sixe and sixe together with whip-cord . Now vpon their backs will I haue a faire field bed , with a Canopy , and so when it is my pleasure , I le flee into what place I please ; this will be easie .

Warren .

Your honour hath said well , but shall we to Brazen-nose Colledge before we pull off our bootes .

Ermsby . Warren , well motioned , we will to the Fryer Before we reuell it within the towne . Raphe , see you keepe your countenance like a Prince . Raphe .

Wherefore haue I such a company of cutting knaues to wait vpon me , but to keepe & defend my countenance against all mine enemies ? haue you not good swords and bucklers ?

Enter Bacon and Miles . Ermsby .

Stay , who comes here ?

Warren .

Some Scholer , and we 'le aske him where Fryer Bacon is .

Bacon .

Why thou arrant dunce , shall I neuer make thee good scholer , doth not all the Towne crie out , and say , Fryer Bacons subsiser is the greatest block-head in all Oxford ? why thou canst not speake one word of true Latine .

Miles .

No sir , yes what is this else ; Ego sum tuiu homo , I am your man , I warrant you sir , as good Tullies phrase as any is in Oxford .

Bacon .

Come sirra , what part of speech is Ego .

Miles .

Ego , that is I , mary nomen substantiuo .

Bacon .

How proue you that ?

Miles .

Why sir , let him proue himselfe and a will , I can be heard felt and vnderstood .

Bacon .

Oh grosse dunce .

Here beate him . Edward .

Come let vs breake off this dispute between these two . Sirra , where is Brazen-nose Colledge ?

Miles .

Not farre from Copper-smiths hall .

Edward .

What doest thou mocke me ?

Miles .

Nor I sir , but what would you at Brazen-nose ?

Ermsby .

Mary we would speake with Fryer Bacon .

Miles .

Whose men be you ?

Ermsby .

Mary scholler , here 's our master .

Raphe .

Sirra , I am the master of these good-fellowes , maist thou not know me to be a Lord by my reparrell ?

Miles .

Then here 's good game for the hawke , for here 's the master foole , and a couie of Cockscombes , one wise man I think would spring you all .

Edward .

Gogs wounds Warren kill him .

Warren .

Why Ned , I thinke the deuill be in my sheath , I cannot get out my dagger .

Ermsby .

Nor I mine , Swones Ned , I thinke I am bewitcht .

Miles .

A company of Scabbes , the proudest of you all draw your weapon if he can .

See how boldly I speake now my master is by . Edward . I striue in vaine , but if my sword be shut , And coniured fast by magicke in my sheath , Villaine here is my fist . Strike him a boxe on the eare . Miles .

Oh I beseech you coniure his hand too , that he may not lift his armes to his head , for he is light-finger'd .

Raphe . Ned strike him , I le warrant thee by mine honour . Bacon . What meanes the English Prince to wrong my man ? Edward . To whom speakest thou ? Bacon . To thee . Edward . Who art thou ? Bacon . Could you not iudge when all your swords grew fast , That Fryer Bacon was not farre from hence , Edward King Henries sonne , and Prince of Wales , Thy foole disguis'd cannot conceale thy selfe , I know both Ermsby and the Sussex Earle , Else Fryer Bacon had but little skill . Thou comest in poast from merry Fresingfield , Fast fancied to the Keepers bonny Lasse , To craue some succour of the iolly Fryer , And Lacy Earle of Lincolne hast thou left , To treat faire Margret to allow thy loues : But friends are men , and Loue can baffle Lords . The Earle both wooes and courts her for himselfe . Warren . Ned , this is strange , the Fryer knoweth all . Ermsby . Apollo could not vtter more then this . Edward . I stand amazed to heare this iolly Fryer , Tell euen the very secrets of my thoughts : But learned Bacon since thou knowest the cause , Why I did poast so fast from Fresingfield , Helpe Fryer at a pinch , that I may haue The loue of louely Margret to my selfe , And as I am true Prince of Wales , I le giue Liuing and lands to strength thy Colledge state . Warren . Good Fryer helpe the Prince in this . Raphe .

Why seruant Ned , will not the Fryer doe it ? Were not my sword glued to my scabberd by coniuration , I would cut off his head and make him doe it by force .

Miles .

In faith my Lord , your manhood and your sword is all alike , they are so fast coniured that we shall neuer see them .

Ermsby . What Doctor in a dumpe ? tush helpe the Prince , And thou shalt see how liberall he will proue , Bacon . Craue not such actions , greater dumps then these , I will my Lord straine out my magicke spels , For this day comes the Earle of Fresingfield ; And fore that night shuts in the day with darke , They 'le be betrothed each to other fast : But come with me , wee le to my study straight , And in a glasse prospectiue I will shew What 's 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 goe bring them to their Inne : Meane while wee le see the knauery of the Earle . Edward . Warren , leaue me and Ermsby , take the foole , Let him be master , and goe reuell it , Till I and Fryer Bacon talke a while . Warren . We will , my Lord . Raphe .

Faith Ned , and I le Lord it out till thou commest , I le be Prince of Wales ouer all the blacke pots in Oxford .

Exeunt . Bacon and Edward gos into the study . Bacon . Now frolicke Edward , welcome to my Cell , Here tempers Fryer Bacon many toyes : And holds this place his Consistory Court , Wherein the deuils pleade homage to his words , Within this glasse prospectiue thou shalt see This day what 's done in merry Fresingfield , Twixt louely Peggie and the Lincolne Earle . Edward . Fryer , thou gladst me , now shall Edward trie , How Lacy meaneth to his Soueraigne Lord . Bacon . Stand there and looke directly in the glasse . Enter Margret and Fryer Bungay . Bacon . What sees my Lord ? Edward . I see the Keepers louely lasse appeare , As bright-sunne as the Paramour of Mars , Onely attended by a iolly Fryer . Bacon . Sit still and keepe the cristall in your eye . Margret . But tell me Fryer Bungay , is it true , That this faire courteous Country Swaine , Who sayes his father is a Farmer nye , Can be Lord Lacy Earle of Lincolnshire . Bungay . Peggie 't is true , 't is Lacy for my life : Or else mine Art and cunning both doe faile , Left by Prince Edward to procure his loues : For he in greene that holpe to run your cheese , Is sonne to Henry , and the Prince of Wales . Margret . Be what he will , his lure is but for lust . But did Lord Lacie like poore Margret , Or would he daine to wed a Countrie Lasse ? Fryer , I would his humble hand-maid be , And for great wealth , quite him with courtesie . Bungay . Why Margret dost loue him ? Margret . His personage like the pride of vaunting Troy , Might well auouch to shadow Hellens cape : His wit is quicke and ready in conceit , As Greece affoorded in her chiefest prime Courteous , ah Fryer full of pleasing smiles , Trust me I loue too much ; to tell thee more , Suffice to me he is Englands Paramour . Bungay . Hath not each eye that viewd thy pleasing face , Surnamed thee faire mayd of Fresingfield ? Margret Yes Bungay , and would God the louely Earle Had that in esse , that so many sought . Bungay . Feare not , the Fryer will not be behind , To shew his cunning to entangle Loue . Edward . I thinke the Fryer courts the bonny wench , Bacon , me thinkes he is a lustie churle . Bacon . Now looke , my Lord . Enter Lacy . Edwards . Gogs wounds Bacon , here comes Lacy . Bacon . Sit still my Lord , and marke the Comedy . Bungay . Here 's Lacy , Margret , step aside a while . Lacy. Daphne the Damsell , that caught Phoebus fast , And lockt him in the brightnesse of her lookes , Was not so beautious in Apollo's eyes , As is faire Margret to the Lincolne Earle , Recant thee : Lacy , thou art put in trust , Edward thy Soueraignes son hath chosen thee A secret friend to court her for himselfe : And darest thou wrong thy Prince with trecherie ? Lacy , Loue makes no exception of a friend , Nor deemes it of a Prince , but as a man : Honour bids me controll him in his lust , His wooing is not for to wed the girle , But to intrap her and beguile the lasse : Lacy , thou louest , then brooke not such abuse , But wed her , and abide thy Princes frowne : For dye , then see her liue disgrac'd . Margret . Come , Fryer , I will shake him from his dumpes , How cheere you sir , a penny for your thought : you r early vp , pray God it be the neere , What' are come from Beckles in a morne so soone ? Lacy. 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 trusty man that court it for your friend , Woo you still for the Courtier all in greene ? I maruell that he sues not for himselfe . Lacy. Peggie , I pleaded first to get your grace for him : But when mine eyes suruaid your beautious lookes , Loue like a wagge , straight diued into my heart , And 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 very hasty for to garden well , Seeds must haue time to sprout before they spring , Loue ought to creepe as doth the dyals shade , For timely ripe , is rotten too too soone . Bungay . Deus hic , roome for a merry Fryer , What , youth of Beckles , with the Keepers Lasse ? 'T is well , but tell me here you any newes , Margret . No , Fryer , what newes . Bungay . Heare you not how the Purseuants doe poast , With Proclamations through each Country towne ? Lacy. For what , gentle Fryer ? tell the newes . Bungay . Dwelst thou in Beckles , & hear'st not these newes ? Lacy the Earle of Lincolne is late fled From Windsor Court , disguised like a Swaine , And lurkes about the Country here vnknowne . Henry suspects him of some treachery , And therefore doth proclaime in euery way , That who can take the Lincolne Earle , shall haue Paid in the Exchequer twenty thousand Crownes . Lacy. The Earle of Lincolne ? Fryer , thou art mad , It was some other , thou mistakest the man : The Earle of Lincolne ? why it cannot be . Margret . Yes , very well my Lord , for you are he , The Keepers daughter tooke you prisoner , Lord Lacy yeeld , I le be your gailor once . Edward . How familiar they be , Bacon . Bacon . Sit still , and marke the sequell of their loues . Lacie . 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 doe wring me at the heart , Ah how these Earles and Noble-men of birth , Flatter and faine to forge poore womens ill ! Lacie . Beleeue me , Lasse , I am the Lincolne Earle , I not deny , but tyred thus in rags , I liued disguisd to win faire Peggies loue . Margret . What loue is there where wedding ends not loue ? Lacie . I meant , faire girle , to make thee Lacies wife . Margret . I little thinke that Earles will stoop so low . Lacie . Say , shall I make thee Countesse ere I sleepe ? Margret . Handmaid vnto the Earle so please himselfe : A wife in name , but seruant in obedience . Lacie . The Lincolne Countesse , for it shall be so , I le plight the bands and seale it with a kisse . Edward . Gogs wounds , Bacon , they kisse , I le stab them . Bacon . Oh hold your hands ( my Lord ) it is the glasse . Edward . Coller to see the traitors gree so well , Made me thinke the shadowes substances . Bacon . 'T were 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 doe both agree : To auoid insuing iarres , I le hamper vp the match , I le take my Portace forth , and wed you here , Then goe to bed and seale vp your desires . Lacie . Fryer , content , Peggie how like you this ? Margret . What likes my Lord , is pleasing vnto me . Bungay . Then hand-fast hand , and I will to my booke . Bacon . What sees my Lord now ? Edward . Bacon , I see the Louers hand in hand , The Fryer ready with his Portace there , To wed them both , then am I quite vndone , Bacon , helpe now , if ere thy magicke seru'd , Bacon , helpe now , if ere thy magicke seru'd , Helpe , Bacon , stop the marriage now , If Deuils or Nigromancie may suffice , And I will giue thee fortie thousand Crownes . Bacon . Feare not , my Lord , I le stop the iolly Frier , For mumbling vp his orisons this day . Lacy. Why speak'st not Bungay ? Frier , to thy booke . Bungay is mute , crying , Hud , hud. Margret . How lookest thou , Frier , as a man distraught , Reft of thy sences , Bungay ? shew by signes If thou be dumbe , what passion holdeth thee . Lacy. He 's dumbe indeed : Bacon hath with his Deuils Inchanted him , or else some strange disease , Or Apoplexie hath possest his lungs : But , Peggie , what he cannot with his booke , We 'le twixt vs both vnite it vp in heart . Margret . Else let me die ( my Lord ) a miscreant . Edward . Why stands Frier Bacon so amaz'd ? Bacon . I haue struk him dumb , my Lord , & if your honor please : I le fetch this Bungay straightway from Fresingfield , And he shall dine with vs is Oxford here . Edward . Bacon , doe that , and thou contentest me . Lacy. Of courtesie , Margret , let vs lead the Frier Vnto thy fathers lodge , to comfort him With broths to bring him from this haplesse trance . Margret . Or else my Lord , we were passing vnkinde To leaue the Frier so in his distresse . Enter a Deuill , and carry Bungay on his backe . Margret . O helpe , my Lord , a Deuill , a Deuill , my Lord , Looke how he carries Bungay on his backe : Let 's hence , for Bacons spirits be abroad . Exeunt . Edward . Bacon , I laugh to see the iolly Fryer Mounted vpon the Deuill , and how the Earle Flees with his bonny lasse for feare . Assoone as Bungay is at Brazen-nose , I will in poast hie me to Fresingfield , And quite these wrongs on Lacy ere it be long . Bacon . So be it , my Lord , but let vs to our dinner : For ere we haue taken our repast awhile , We shall haue Bungay brought to Brazen-nose . Exeunt . Enter three Doctors , Burden , Mason , Clement . Mason . Now that we are gathered in the Regent house , It fits vs talke about the long repaire , For he troop't with all the Westerne Kings , That lye alongst the Dansick Seas by East , North by the clime of frostie Germany , The Almaine Monarke , and the Scocon Duke , Castile , and louely Ellinor , with him , Haue in their iests resolued for Oxford Towne . Burden . We must lay plots for stately Tragedies , Strange Comicke showes , such as proud Rossius Vaunted before the Romane Emperours . Clement . To welcome all the Westerne Potentates , But more the King by letters hath fore-told , That Fredericke the Almaine Emperour , Hath brought with him a Germane of esteeme , Whose surname is Don Iaques Vandermast , Skilfull in Magicke and those secret arts . Mason . Then must we all make sute vnto the Fryer , To Frier Bacon , that he vouch this taske , And vndertake to counteruaile in skill The Germane , else there 's none in Oxford can Match and dispute with learned Vandermast . Burden . Bacon , if he will hold the German play , We 'le teach him what an English Frier can doe : The Deuill I thinke dare not dispute with him . Clement . Indeed mas Doctor , he pleasured you , In that he brought your hostesse with her spit , From Henly , posting vnto Brazen-nose . Burden . A vengeance on the Frier for his paines , But leauing that , let 's to Bacon straight , To see if he will take this taske in hand . Clement .

Stay ! what rumour is this ? The towne is vp in a mutiny , what hurly burly is this ?

Enter a Constable , with Raphe , Warren , Ermsby , and Miles . Constable .

Nay masters , if you were ne'r so good , you shall before the Doctors to answer your misdemeanour .

Burden .

What s the matter , fellow ?

Constable .

Mary sir , here 's a company of Rufflers , that drinking in the Tauerne , haue made a great brawle , and almost kild the Vintner .

Miles . Salue , Doctor Burden , this lubberly Lurden , Ill shapt and ill faced , disdain'd and disgraced , What he tels vnto vobis , mentitur de nobis . Burden . Who is the master and chiefe of this crue ? Miles . Ecce asinum mundi , figura retundi , Neat , sheat and fine , as briske as a cup of wine . Burden . What are you ? Raphe .

I am , father Doctor , as a man would say , the Belweather of this company , these are my Lords , and I the Prince of Wales .

Clement . Are you Edward the Kings sonne ? Raphe .

Sirra Miles , bring hither the Tapster that drew the wine , & I warrant when they see how soundly I haue broke his head , thei 'le say 't was done by no lesse man then a Prince .

Mason . I cannot beleeue that this is the Prince of Wales . Warren . And why so , sir ? Mason . For they say the Prince is a braue & a wise Gentleman . Warren . Why , and thinkest thou , Doctor , that he is not so ? Dar'st thou detract and derogate from him , Being so louely and so braue a Youth ? Ermsby . Whose face shining with many a sugred smile , Bewrayes that he is bred of princely race . Miles . And yet , master Doctor , to speake like a Proctor , And tell vnto you , what is veriment and true , To cease off this quarrell ; looke but on his apparell , Then marke but my talis , he is great Prince of Walis , The cheefe of our gregis , and filius Regis , Then ware what is done , for he is Henries white sonne . Raphe .

Doctors , whose doting night-caps are not capable of my ingenious dignity , know that I am Edward Plantagenet , whom if you displease , will make a ship that shall hold all your Colleges , and so carry away the Niniuersity with a faire wind , to the Bankeside in Southwarke , how saist thou Ned Warraine , shall I not doe it ?

Warren .

Yes my good Lord , and if it please your Lordship , I will gather vp all your old pantophles , and with the corke , make you a Pinnis of fiue hundred tunne , that shall serue the turne maruellous well , my Lord .

Ermsby .

And I my Lord will haue Pioners to vndermine the Towne , that the very Gardens and Orchards be carryed away for your Summer walkes .

Miles . And with scientia and great diligentia , Will coniure and charme , to keepe you from harme , That vtrum horum mauis , your very great nauis , Like Bartlets ship , from Oxford doe skip , With Colledges and schooles , full loaden with fooles , Quid dices ad hoc , worshipfull Domine Dawcocke ? Clement . Why harebraind Courtiers , are you drunke or mad , To taunt vs vp with such scurrilitie ? Deeme you vs men of base and light esteeme , To bring vs such a fop for Henries sonne ? Call out the Beadles and conuay them hence Straight to Bocardo , let the Roisters lie Close clapt in bolts , vntill their wits be tame . Ermsby . Why , shall we to prison my Lord ? Raphe . What saist , Miles , shall I honour the prison with my presence ? Miles . No , no , out with your blades , and hamper these Iades , Haue a flurt and a crash , now reuell dash , And teach these Sacerdos , that the Bocardos , Like Pezzants and clues , are meet for themselues . Mason . To the prison with them , Constable . Warren . Well ( Doctors ) seeing I haue sported me , With laughing at these mad and merry wagges , Know that Prince Edward is at Brazen-nose , And this , attired like the Prince of Wales , Is Raphe , King Henries only loued foole , I , Earle of Essex , and this Ermsby , One of the priuie Chamber to the King , Who while the Prince with Frier Bacon staies , Haue reuel'd in Oxford as you see . Mason . My Lord , pardon vs , we knew not what you were ; But Courtiers may make greater scapes then these , Wil t please your Honour dine with me to day ? Warren .

I will , master Doctor , and satisfie the Vintner for his hurt ; only I must desire you to imagine him all this fore-noone the Prince of Wales .

Mason .

I will , sir .

Raphe .

And vpon that I will lead the way , onely I will haue Miles goe before me , because I haue heard Henry say , that wisedome must goe before Maiestie .

Exeunt omnes . Enter Prince Edward with his poinard in his hand , Lacy and Margret . Edward . Lacie , thou canst not shroud thy traitrous thoughts , Nor couer , as did Cassius , all his wiles , For Edward hath an eye that lookes as farre , As Lincaeus from the shores of Grecia . Did not I sit in Oxford by the Fryer , And see thee court the maid of Fresingfield , Sealing thy flattering fancies with a kisse ? Did not proud Bungay draw his portasse forth , And ioyning hand in hand , had married you , If Frier Bacon had not strooke him dumbe , And mounted him vpon a spirits backe , That we might chat at Oxford with the Frier ? Traytor , what answer'st ? Is not all this true ? Lacy. Truth all , my Lord , and thus I make reply , At Harlstone Faire there courting for your Grace , When as mine eye suruaid her curious shape , And drew the beautious glory of her lookes , To diue into the center of my heart , Loue taught me that your Honour did but iest , That Princes were in fancy but as men , How that the louely maid of Fresingfield Was fitter to be Lacies wedded wife , Then Concubine vnto the Prince of Wales . Edward . Iniurious Lacy , did I loue thee more Then Alexander his Hephestion ? Did I vnfold the passions of my loue , And locke them in the clozet of thy thoughts ? Wert thou to Edward second to himselfe , Sole friend , and partner of his secret loues ; And could a glaunce of fading beauty breake Th' inchained fetters of such priuat friends ? Base coward , false , and too effeminate , To be corriuall with a Prince in thoughts ! From Oxford haue I posted since I dinde , To quite a Traitor 'fore that Edward sleepe ? Margret . 'T was I , my Lord , not Lacy stept awry : For oft he sued and courted for your selfe , And still woo'd for the Courtier all in greene : But I , whom fancy made but ouer-fond , Pleaded my selfe with lookes as if lou'd , I fed mine eye with gazing on his face , And still bewitcht lou'd Lacie with my lookes , My heart with sighes , mine eyes pleaded with teares , My face held pitty and content at once , And more I could not cypher out by signes , But that I lou'd Lord Lacy with my heart : Then worthy Edward , measure with thy minde , If womens fauours will not force men fall , If beauty , and if darts of piercing loue , Is not of force to bury thoughts of friends . Edward . I tell thee , Peggie , I will haue thy loues , Edward , or none shall conquer Margret ; In Frigats bottom'd with rich Sethin planks , Topt with the lofty Firs of Libanon , Stem'd and incast with burnisht Iuory , And ouer-laid with plates of Persian wealth , Like Thetis shalt thou wanton on the waues , And draw the Dolphins to thy louely eyes , To dance Lauoltas in the purple streames , Sirens with harpes and siluer Psalteries , Shall wait with musicke at thy Frigots stem , And entertaine faire Margret with her layes ; England and Englands wealth shall wait on thee , Brittaine shall bend vnto her Princes loue , And doe due homage to thine Excellence , If thou wilt be but Edwards Margret . Margret . Pardon , my Lord , if Ioues great Royalty Sent me such presents as to Danae , If Phoebus tyed in Latonas webs , Come courting from the beauty of his lodge , The dulcet tunes of frolicke Mercurie , Not all the wealth heauens treasury affords , Should make me leaue Lord Lacy , or his loue . Edward . I haue learn'd at Oxford then this point of schooles , Ablata causa , tollitur effectus . Lacy , the cause , that Margret cannot loue , Nor fixe her liking on the English Prince . Take him away , and then the effects will faile . Villaine , prepare thy selfe : for I will bathe My poinard in the bosome of an Earle . Lacie . Rather then liue , and misse faire Margrets loue , Prince Edward , stop not at the fatall doome , But stab it home , end both my loues and life . Marg. Braue Prince of Wales , honour'd for Royall deeds , T were sinne to staine faire Venus courts with blood , Loues conquest ends , my Lord , in courtesie , Spare Lacy , gentle Edward , let me dye , For so both you and he doe cease your loues . Edward . Lacie shall die as Traitor to his Lord . Lacy. I haue deserued it , Edward , act it well . Marg. What hopes the Prince to gaine by Lacies death ? Edward . To end the loues 'twixt him and Margaret . Marg. Why , thinks King Henries son that Margrets loue Hangs in th' vncertaine ballance of proud Time , That death shall make a discord of our thoughts ? No , stab the Earle , and 'fore the morning Sun Shall vaunt him thrice ouer the lofty East , Margret will meet her Lacy in the heauens . Lacy. If ought betides to louely Margret , That wrongs or wrings her honour from content , Europes rich wealth , nor Englands Monarchie , Should not allure Lacy to ouer-liue . Then Edward , short my life , and end her loues . Marg. Rid me , and keepe a friend worth many loues . Lacy. Nay , Edward , keepe a loue worth many friends . Marg. And if thy mind be such as fame hath blaz'd , Then Princely Edward , let vs both abide The fatall resolution of thy rage , Banish thou fancie , and imbrace reuenge , And in one toombe knit both our carkases , Whose hearts were linked in one perfect loue , Edward . Edward , art thou that famous Prince of Wales , Who at Damasco beat the Sarazens , And broughtst home triumph on thy Lances point ? And shall thy plumes be puld by Venus downe ? Is 't princely to disseuer Louers loues ? Leaue , Ned , and make a vertue of this fault , And further Peg and Lacy in their loues ; So in subduing fancies passion , Conquering thy selfe , thou get'st the richest spoile . Lacy , rise vp . Faire Peggie , here 's my hand , The Prince of Wales hath conquered all his thoughts , And all his loues he yeelds vnto the Earle . Lacy , enioy the maid of Fresingfield , Make her thy Lincolne Countesse at the Church . And Ned , as he is true Plantagenet , Will giue her to thee frankly for thy wife . Lacy. Humbly I take her of my Soueraigne , As if that Edward gaue me Englands right , And rich't me with the Albion Diadem . Margret . And doth the English Prince meane true ? Will he vouchsafe to cease his former loues , And yeeld the title of a Country maid , Vnto Lord Lacy ? Edward . I will , faire Peggie , as I am true Lord . Margret . Then Lordly Sir , whose conquest is as great , In conquering loue , as Casars victories , Margret as milde and humble in her thoughts , As was Aspatia vnto Cyrus selfe , Yeelds thanks , and next Lord Lacy , doth inshrine Edward the second secret in her heart . Edward . Gramercy , Peggie , now that vowes are past , And that your loues are not to be reuolt : Once , Lacy , friends againe , come , we will poast To Oxford : for this day the King is there , And brings for Edward Castile Ellinor . Peggie , I must goe see and view my wife ; I pray God I like her as I loued thee . Beside , Lord Lincolne , we shall heare dispute , Twixt Fryer Bacon , and learned Vandermast , Peggy , we 'le leaue you for a weeke or two . Margret . As it please Lord Lacy : but loues foolish looks Thinke footsteps miles , and minutes to be houres . Lacy. I le hasten , Peggie , to make short returne . But please your Honour goe vnto the Lodge , We shall haue Butter , Cheese , and Venison . And yesterday I brought for Margret , A lusty bottle of neat Clarret wine : Thus can we feast and entertaine your Grace . Edward . 'T is cheere , Lord Lacy , for an Emperour , If he respect the person and the place . Come , let vs in , for I will all this night Ride poast vntill I come to Bacons cell . Exeunt . Enter Henry , Emperour , Castile , Ellinor , Vandermast , Bungay . Emperour . Trust me , Plantagenet , these Oxford Schooles Are richly seated neere the Riuer side : The mountaines full of fat and fallow Deere , The battling pastures laid with Kine and Flocks , The Towne gorgeous with high built Colledges , And Schollers seemely in their graue attire , Learned in searching the principles of Art . What is thy iudgement , Iaques Vandermast ? Vander. That Lordly are the buildings of the Towne , Spatious the roomes , and full of pleasant walkes : But for the Doctors , how that they be learned , It may be meanely , for ought I can heare . Bungay . I tell thee , Germane , Haspurge holds none such , None read so deepe , as Oxenford containes , There are within our Academicke state , Men that may lecture it in Germany , To all the Doctors of your Belgicke Scholes . Henry . Stand to him , Bungay , charme this Vandermast , And I will vse thee as a Royall King . Vandermast . Wherein darest thou dispute with me ? Bungay . In what a Doctor and a Fryer can . Vandermast . Before rich Europes Worthies put thou forth The doubtfull question vnto Vandermast . Bungay . Let it be this , Whether the spirits of Piromancy or Geomancy , be most predominant in Magicke ? Vander. I say , of Piromancy . Bungay . And I of Geomancy . Vander. The Cabbalists that write of Magicke spels , As Hermes , Melchre , and Pythagoras , Affirme that 'mongst the quadruplicity Of elementall essence , Terra is but thought , To be a punctum squared to the rest : And that the compasse of ascending elements Exceed in bignesse as they doe in height ; Iudging the concaue Circle of the Sunne , To hold the rest in his Circumference ; If then , as Hermes sayes , the fire be great'st , Purest , and onely giueth shapes to spirits : Then must these Demones that haunt that place , Be euery way superiour to the rest . Bungay . I reason not of elementall shapes , Nor tell I of the concaue latitudes , Noting their essence , nor their quality , But of the spirits that Piromancy calls , And of the vigour of the Geomanticke Fiends . I tell thee , Germane , Magicke hants the grounds , And those strange Negromanticke spels , That worke such shewes and wondring in the world , Are acted by those Geomanticke sprites , That Hermes calleth Terrae filij . The fierie spirits are but transparent shades , That lightly passe as Heralds to beare newes , But earthly Fiends cloz'd in the lowest deepe , Disseuer mountaines , if they be but char'd , Being more grosse and massie in their power . Vandermast . Rather these earthly Geomantike spirits , Are dull and like the place where they remaine : For when proud Lucifer fell from the heauens , The spirits and Angels that did sin with him , Retain'd their locall essence as their faults , All subiects vnder Lunas Continent , The which offended lesse , hang in the fire , And second faults did rest within the aire , But Lucifer and his proud-hearted fiends , Were throwne into the Center of the earth , Hauing lesse vnderstanding then the rest , As hauing greater sinne , and lesser grace . Therefore such grosse and earthly spirits doe serue , For Iuglers , Witches , and vild Sorcerers , Whereas the Piromanticke Genij , Are mighty , swift , and of farre reaching power . But grant that Geomancie hath most force , Bungay , to please these mighty Potentates , Proue by some instance what thy Art can doe . Bungay . I will . Emper. Now English Harry , here begins the game , We shall see sport betweene these learned men . Vandermast . What wilt thou doe ? Bungay . Shew thee the Tree leau'd with refined gold , Whereon the fearefull Dragon held his seate , That watcht the Garden cald Hesperides , Subdued and wonne by conquering Hercules . Vandermast . Well done . Here Bungay coniures , and the Tree appeares with the Dragon shooting fire . Henrie . What say you Royall Lordlings to my Fryer ? Hath he not done a point of cunning skill ? Vander. Ech Scholler in the Negromanticke spels Can doe as much as Bungay hath perform'd . But as Alemenas bastard rais'd this Tree , So will I raise him vp as when he liued , And cause him pull the Dragon from his seate , And teare the branches piecemeale from the roote , Hercules , Prodi , Prodi , Hercules . Hercules appeares in his Lyons skin . Hercules . Quis me vult ? Vandermast . Ioues bastard sonne , thou Libian Hercules , Pull off the sprigs from off the Hesperian Tree , As once thou didst to win the golden fruit . Hercules . Fiat . Here he begins to breake the branches . Vander. Now Bungay , if thou canst by Magicke charme The Fiend , appearing like great Hercules , From pulling downe the branches of the Tree , Then art thou worthy to be counted learned . Bungay . I cannot . Vander. Cease Hercules , vntill I giue thee charge . Mighty Commander of this English I le , Henrie , come from the stout Plantagenets , Bungay is learned enough to be a Fryer : But to compare with Iaques Vandermast , Oxford and Cambridge must goe seeke their Celles , To find a man to match him in his Art . I haue giuen non-plus to the Paduans , To them of Sien , Florence , and Bologna , Rheims , Louain , and faire Roterdam , Franckford , Lutrech , and Orleance : And now must Henrie , if he doe me right , Crowne me with Lawrell , as they all haue done . Enter Bacon . Bacon . All haile to this Royall Company , That sit to heare and see this strange dispute : Bungay , how standst thou as a man amaz'd ? What , hath the Germane acted more then thou ? Vandermast . What art thou that questionst thus ? Bacon . Men call me Bacon . Vander . Lordly thou look'st , as if that thou wert learn'd ? Thy countenance , as if science held her seate Betweene the circled arches of thy browes . Henry . Now Monarks , hath the Germane found his match ? Emperour . Bestirre thee Iaques , take not now the foile , Lest thou doest lose , what foretime thou didst gaine . Vandermast . Bacon , wilt thou dispute ? Bacon . No , vnlesse he were more learn'd then Vandermast . For yet tell me , what hast thou done ? Vandermast . Rais'd Hercules to ruinate that tree , That Bungay mounted by his Magicke spels . Bacon . Set Hercules to worke . Vander. Now Hercules , I charge thee to thy taske , Pull off the golden branches from the roote . Hercules . I dare not . Seest thou not great Bacon here , Whose frowne doth act more then thy Magicke can ? Vandermast . By all the Thrones , and Dominations , Vertues , Powers , and mightie Hierarchies , I charge thee to obey to Vandermast . Hercules . Bacon , that bridles headstrong Belzephon , And rules Asmenoth guider of the North : Binds me from yeelding vnto Vandermast . Hen. How now , Vandermast , haue you met with your match ? Vander. Neuer before was 't knowne to Vandermast , That men held Deuils in such obedient awe . Bacon doth more then Art , or else I faile . Emperour . Why , Vandermast , art thou ouercome ? Bacon dispute with him , and try his skill ; Bacon . I come not , Monarks , for to hold dispute With such a Nouice as is Vandermast ; I came to haue your Royalties to dine With Fryer Bacon here in Brazen-nose ; And , for this Germane troubles but the place , And holds the Audience with a long suspence , I le send him to his Academie hence . Thou Hercules , whom Vandermast did raise , Transport the Germane vnto Haspurge straight , That he may learne by trauell 'gainst the Springs , More secret doomes and Aphorismes of Art , Vanish the Tree , and thou away with him . Exit the spirit with Vandermast , and the Tree . Emperour . Why , Bacon , whither doest thou send him ? Bacon . To Haspurge , there your Highnesse at returne , Shall finde the Germane in his Study safe . Henry . Bacon , thou hast honoured England with thy skill , And made faire Oxford famous by thine Art , I will be English Henry to thy selfe . But tell me , shall we dine with thee to day ? Bacon . With me , my Lord ; and while I fit my cheere , See where Prince Edward comes to welcome you : Gracious as the morning-starre of heauen . Exit . Enter Edward , Lacie , Warren , Ermsby . Emperour . Is this Prince Edward , Henries Royall sonne ? How martiall is the figure of his face ! Yet louely and beset with Amorets . Henry . Ned , where hast thou beene ? Edward . At Framingham , my Lord , to trye your Buckes , If they could scape the teisers or the toile : But hearing of these Lordly Potentates Landed , and progrest vp to Oxford towne , I posted to giue entertaine to them , Cheefe to the Almaine Monarke , next to him , And ioynt with him , Castile , and Saxonie , Are welcome as they may be to the English Court . Thus for the men . But see , Venus appeares , Or one that ouermatcheth Venus in her shape , Sweet Ellinor , beauties high-swelling pride , Rich natures glorie , and her wealth at once : Faire of all faires , welcome to Albion , Welcome to me , and welcome to thine owne , If that thou dain'st the welcome from my selfe . Ellinor . Martiall Plantagenet , Henries high-minded sonne , The marke that Ellinor did count her aime , I lik't thee 'fore I saw thee ; now I loue , And so as in so short time I may : Yet so , as time shall neuer breake that so , And therefore so accept of Ellinor . Castile . Feare not , my Lord , this couple will agree , If loue may creepe into their wanton eyes : And therefore , Edward , I accept thee here , Without suspence , as my adopted sonne . Henry . Let me that ioy in these consorting greets , And glory in these honours done to Ned , Yeeld thankes for all these fauours to my sonne , And rest a true Plantagenet to all . Enter Miles with a cloth and trenchers , and salt . Miles .

Saluete omnes Reges , that gouerne your Greges , in Saxony , and Spaine , in England , and in Almaine : for all this frolicke rable must I couer the table , with trenchers , salt , and cloth , and then looke for your broth .

Emperour .

What pleasant fellow is this ?

Henry .

T is , my Lord , Doctor Bacons poore Scholler .

Miles .

My master hath made me sewer of these great Lords , and ( God knowes ) I am as seruiceable at a table , as a Sow is vnder an Apple tree : 't is no matter , their cheere shall not be great , and therefore what skils where the salt stand before or behinde ?

Castile . These Schollers know more skill in Axiomes , How to vse quips and sleights of Sophistrie , Then for to couer courtly for a King . Enter Miles with a messe of pottage and broth , and after him Bacon . Miles .

Spill , sir ? why , doe you thinke I neuer carried two-penny chop before in my life ? By your leaue , Nobile decus , for here comes Doctor Bacons pecus , being in his full age , to carry a messe of pottage .

Bacon . Lordlings , admire not if your cheere be this , For we must keepe our Academicke fare , No riot where Philosophy doth raigne : And therefore , Henry , place these Potentates , And bid them fall vnto their frugall cates . Emp. Presumptuous Fryer , what , scoft'st thou at a King ? What , doest thou taunt vs with thy peazants fare , And giues vs cates fit for Country Swaines ? Henrie , proceeds this iest of thy consent , To twit vs with a pittance of such price ? Tell me , and Fredericke will not grieue thee long . Henrie . By Henries honour and the Royall faith The English Monarke beareth to his friend , I knew not of the Fryers feeble fare , Nor am I pleas'd he entertaines you thus . Bacon . Content thee , Frederick , for I shewd thee cates , To let thee see how schollers vse to feede : How little meate refines our English wits . Miles take away , and let it be thy dinner . Miles . Mary sir , I will , this day shall be a festiuall day with me : For I shall exceed in the highest degree . Exit Miles . Bacon . I tell thee , Monarke , all the Germane Peeres Could not afford thy entertainment such , So Royall and so full of Maiestie , As Bacon will present to Fredericke , The Basest waiter that attends thy cups , Shall be in honours greater then thy selfe : And for thy cates rich Alexandria drugges , Fetcht by Carueils from Aegypts richest straights : Found in the wealthy strond of Affrica , Shall Royallize the table of my King , Wines richer then the Gyprian Courtisan Quaft to Augustus Kingly countermatch , Shal be carrowst in English Henries feasts : Candy shall yeeld the richest of her canes , Persia downe her Volga by Canows , Send downe the secrets of her spicerie . The Africke Dates , mirabiles of Spaine , Conserues , and Suckets from Tiberias , Cates from Iudea choiser then the lampe That fiered Rome with sparkes of gluttony , Shall beautifie the boord for Fredericke , And therefore grudge not at a Fryers feast . Enter two Gentlemen , Lambert , and Serlsby , with the Keeper . Lambert . Come frolicke , Keeper of our Lieges game , Whose table spred hath euer Venison , And iacks of wine to welcome passengers . Know I am in loue with iolly Margret , That ouer-shines our Damsels , as the Moone Darkneth the brightest sparkles of the night , In Laxfield here my land and liuing lies , I le make thy daughter ioynter of it all , So thou consent to giue her to my wife , And I can spend fiue hundred markes a yeere . Serlsby . I am the Lands-lord Keeper of thy holds , By coppy all thy liuing lies in me . Laxfield did neuer see me raise my due , I will infeoffe Margret in all , So she will take her to a lusty Squire . Keeper . Now courteous Gentles , if the Keepers girle Hath pleas'd the liking fancy of you both , And with her beauty hath subdued your thoughts , 'T is doubtfull to decide the question . It ioyes me that such men of great esteeme , Should lay their liking on this base estate , And that her state should grow so fortunate , To be a wife to meaner men then you . But sith such Squires will stoope to Keepers fee , I will t' auoyd displeasure of you both , Call Margret forth , and she shall make her choise . Exit . Lambert . Content , Keeper , send her vnto vs . Why , Serlsby , is thy wife so lately dead ? Are all thy loues so lightly passed ouer , As thou canst wed before the yeere be out ? Serlsby . I liue not , Lambert , to content the dead , Nor was I wedded but for life to her , The graue ends , and begins a married state . Enter Margret . Lambert . Peggie , the louely flowers of all townes , Suffolks faire Hellen , and rich Englands star , Whose beauty tempered with her huswifrie , Makes England talke of merry Fresingfield . Serlsby . I cannot tricke it vp with poesies , Nor paint my passions with comparisons , Nor tell a tale of Phoebus and his loues , But this beleeue me , Laxfield here is mine , Of ancient rent seuen hundred pounds a yeere , And if thou canst but loue a Country Squire , I will infeoffe thee , Margret , in all , I cannot flatter , trie me if thou please . Mar. Braue neighb'ring Squires , the stay of Suffolks clime , A Keepers daughter is too base in gree To match with men accounted of such worth : But might I not displease , I would reply . Lambert . Say , Peggie , nought shall make vs discontent . Margret . Then Gentiles , note that loue hath little stay , Nor can the flames that Venus sets on fire , Be kindled but by fancies motion , Then pardon , Gentiles , if a maids reply Be doubtfull , while I haue debated with my selfe , Who , or of whom Ioue shall constraine me like . Serlsby . Let it be me , and trust me , Margret , The meads inuironed with siluer streames , Whose battling pastures fatten all my flockes , Yeelding forth fleeces stapled with such wooll , As Lempster cannot yeeld more finer stuffe , And forty kine with faire and burnisht heads , With strouting dugs that paggle to the ground , Shall serue thy dary if thou wed with me . Lambert . Let passe the Country wealth , as flocks and kine , And lands that waue with Ceres golden sheaues , Filling my barnes with plenty of the fields : But , Peggie , if thou wed thy selfe to me , Thou shalt haue garments of imbrodred silke , Lawnes , and rich net-works for thy head attire , Costly shall be thy faire habilliments , If thou wilt be but Lamberts louing wife . Margret . Content you , Gentles , you haue proffered faire , And more then fits a Country maids degree : But giue me leaue to counsaile me a time , For fancie bloomes not at the first assault ; Giue me but ten dayes respit , and I will reply , Which or to whom my selfe affectionates . Serlsby . Lambert , I tell thee , thou art importunate , Such beauty fits not such a base Esquire : It is for Serlsby to haue Margret . Lamb. Thinkst thou with wealth to ouer-reach me , Serlsby ? I scorne to brooke thy Country braues . I dare thee , Coward , to maintaine this wrong , At dint of Rapier single in the field Serlsby . I le answere Lambert what I haue auoucht . Margret , farewell , another time shall serue . Exit Serlsby . Lambert . I le follow . Peggie , farewell to thy selfe , Listen how well I le answer for thy loue . Exit Lambert . Margret . How Fortune tempers lucky happes with frownes , And wrongs me with the sweets of my delight ! Loue is my blisse , and loue is now my bale . Shall I be Hellen in my forward fates , As I am Hellen in my matchlesse hue , And set rich Suffolke with my face a fire ? If louely Lacy were but with his Peggie , The cloudy darkenesse of his bitter frowne Would checke the pride of these aspiring Squires , Before the terme of ten dayes be expired , When as they looke for answer of their loues , My Lord will come to merry Fresingfield , And end their fancies , and their follies both ; Till when , Peggie be blithe and of good cheere . Enter a Poast with a letter and a bag of gold . Poast . Faire louely Damsell , which way leads this path ? How might I poast me vnto Fresingfield ? Which footpath leadeth to the Keepers Lodge ? Margret . Your way is ready , and this path is right , My selfe doe dwell hereby in Fresingfield ; And if the Keeper be the man you seeke , I am his daughter : may I know the cause ? Poast . Louely and once beloued of my Lord , No maruell if his eye was lodg'd so low , When brighter beauty is not in the heauens , The Lincolne Earle hath sent you Letters here , And with them , iust an hundred pounds in gold . Sweet bonny wench , read them , and make reply . Margret . The scrowles that loue sent Danaë , Wrapt in rich closures of fine burnisht gold , Were not more welcome then these lines to me . Tell me , whilst that I doe vnrip the scales , Liues Lacy well , how fares my louely Lord ? Poast . Well , if that wealth may make men to liue well . The letter , and Margret reades it .

THe bloomes of the Almond tree grow in a night , & vanish in a morne , the flies Haemerae ( faire Peggie ) take life with the Sunne , and die with the dew , fancy that slippeth in with a gaze , goeth out with a winke ; and too timely loues , haue euer the shortest length . I write this as thy greife , and my folly , who at Fresingfield lou'd that which time hath taught me to be but meane dainties , eyes are dissemblers , and fancie is but queasie , therefore know , Margret , I haue chosen a Spanish Lady to be my wife , chiefe wayting-woman to the Princesse Ellinor , a Lady faire , and no lesse faire then thy selfe , honorable and wealthy , in that I forsake thee , I leaue thee to thine owne liking , and for thy dowry I haue sent thee an hundred pounds , & euer assure thee of my fauour , which shall auaile thee and thine much . Farewell . Not thine , nor his owne .

Edward Lacy . Margret . Fond Atae , doomer of bad boasting fates , That wraps proud Fortune in thy snaky locks , Didst thou inchant my birth-day with such stars , As lightned mischiefe from their infancy ? If heauens had vowd , if stars had made decree , To shew in me their froward influence , If Lacy had but lou'd , heauens , hell and all , Could not haue wrong'd the patience of my minde . Poast . It grieues me , Damsell , but the Earle is forst To loue the Lady , by the Kings command . Margret . The wealth combinde within the English shelues , Europes Commander , nor the English King , Should not haue mou'd the loue of Peggie from her Lord . Poast . What answere shall I returne to my Lord ? Margret . First , for thou camst from Lacy whom I lou'd , Ah , giue me leaue to sigh at euery thought , Take thou , my friend , the hundred pound he sent : For Margrets resolution craues no dower ; The world shall be to her as vanity , Wealth , trash ; loue , hate ; pleasure , despaire : For I will straight to stately Fremingham , And in the Abby there be shorne a Nun , And yeeld my loues and liberty to God . Fellow , I giue thee this , not for the newes , For those be hatefull vnto Margret , But for th' art Lacees man , once Margrets loue . Poast . What I haue heard , what passions I haue seene , I le make report of them vnto the Earle . Exit Poast . Margret . Say , that she ioyes his fancies be at rest , And prayes that his misfortunes may be hers . Exit . Enter Fryer Bacon drawing the courtaines with a white sticke , a booke in his hand , and a lampe lighted by him , and the brazen head , and Miles , with weapons by him . Bacon .

Miles , where are you ?

Miles .

Here , sir .

Bacon .

How chance you tarry so long ?

Miles .

Thinke you that the watching of the brazen head craues no furniture ? I warrant you , sir , I haue so armed my selfe , that if all your deuils doe come , I will not feare them an inch .

Bacon . Miles , thou knowst that I haue diued into hell , And sought the darkest palaces of the Fiends , That with my Magicke spels great Belzephon Hath left his lodge and kneeled at my cell , The rafters of the earth rent from the poles , And three-form'd Luna hid her siluer lookes ; Trembling vpon her concaue continent , When Bacon read vpon his Magicke booke , With seuen yeeres tossing Nigromanticke charmes , Poring vpon darke Hecats principles , I haue fram'd out a monstrous head of brasse , That by th' inchanting forces of the Deuill , Shall tell out strange and vncoth Aphorismes , And girt faire England with a wall of brasse . Bungay and I haue watcht these threescore dayes , And now our vitall spirits craue some rest , If Argos liu'd and had his hundred eyes , They could not ouer-watch Phobeters night , Now Miles , in thee rests Fryers Bacons weale , The honour and renowne of all his life , Hangs in the watching of this brazen-head ; Therefore I charge thee by the immortall God , That holds the soules of men within his fist , This night thou watch ; for ere the morning starre Sends out his glorious glister on the North , The head will speake ; then ( Miles ) vpon thy life , Wake me : for then by Magicke Art I le worke , To end my seuen yeeres taske with excellence , If that a winke but shut thy watchfull eye , Then farewell Bacons glory and his fame , Draw close the curtaines , Miles , now for thy life , Be watchfull and Here he falleth asleepe . Miles .

So , I thought you would talke your selfe asleepe anon , and 't is no maruell , for Bungay on the dayes , and hee on the nights , haue watcht iust these ten and fifty dayes , now this is the night , and 't is my taske and no more . Now Iesus blesse me , what a goodly head it is , & a nose ! You talke of nos autem glorificare ; but here 's a nose , that I warrant may be cal'd nos autem popelares for the people of the parish . Well I am furnished with weapons , now sir , I will set me downe by a post , and make it as good as a watch-man to wake me if I chance to slumber .

I thought , goodman head , I would call you out of your momento passion a God , I haue almost broke my pate : Vp , Miles , to your taske , take your browne bill in your hand , here s some of your masters Hobgoblins abroad . With this , a great noise .

The Head speakes . Head .

Time is .

Miles .

Time is . Why , Master Brazen-head , haue you such a capitall nose , and answer you with sillables , Time is ? is this all my masters cunning , to spend seuen yeeres studie about Time is ? Well , sir , it may be , we shall haue some orations of it anon ; well , I le watch you as narrowly as euer you were watcht , and I le play with you as the Nightingale with the Slow-worme , I le set a pricke against my brest ; now rest there , Miles , Lord haue mercy vpon me , I haue almost kild my selfe : vp , Miles , list how they rumble .

Head .

Time was .

Miles .

Well , Frier Bacon , you haue spent your seuen yeeres study well , that can make your Head speake but two words at once , Time was : yea mary , time was when my Master was a wise man , but that was before he began to make the Brazen-head . You shall lye while you arse ake , and your Head speake no better : well , I will watch and walke vp and downe , and be a Peripatetian and a Philosopher of Aristotles stampe . What , a fresh noyse ? Take thy Pistols in hand , Miles .

Here the Head speakes , and a lightning flasheth forth and a hand appeares that breaketh downe the Head with a hammer . Head .

Time is past .

Miles .

Master , master , vp , hell 's broken loose , your head speakes , and there 's such a thunder and lightning , that I warrant , all Oxford is vp in armes ; out of your bed , take a browne bill in your hand , the latter day is come .

Bacon . Miles , I come . O passing warily watcht ; Bacon will make thee next himselfe in loue . When spake the Head ? Miles .

When spake the Head ? did not you say that he should tell strange principles of Philosophy ? Why sir , it speakes but two words at a time .

Bacon .

Why villaine , hath it spoken oft ?

Miles .

Oft , I mary hath it thrice : but in all those three times it hath vttered but seuen words .

Bacon .

As how ?

Miles .

Mary sir , the sirs time he said , Time is , as if Fabuis Commentator should haue pronounst a sentence : he said , Time was : and the third time with thunder and lightning , as in great choler , he said , Time is past .

Bacon . T is past indeed . A villaine , time is past : My life , my fame , my glory , all are past : Bacon , the turrets of thy hope are ruin'd downe , Thy seuen yeeres study lieth in the dust : Thy Brazen-head lies broken through a slaue That watcht , and would not when the Head did will . What said the Head first ? Miles . Euen , Time is . Bacon . Villaine , if thou hadst cald to Bacon then , If thou hadst watcht and wakte the sleepy Fryer , The Brazen-head had vttered Aphorismes , And England had beene circled round with brasse : But proud Astmeroth , ruler of the North , And Demegorgon , master of the Fates , Grudge that a mortall man should doe so much . Hell trembled at my deepe commanding spels , Fiends frownd to see a man their ouer-match , Bacon might boast more then a man might boast : But now the braues of Bacon haue an end , Europes conceit of Bacon hath an end : His seuen yeeres practice sorteth to ill end : And villaine , sith my glorie hath an end , I will appoint thee fatall to some end . Villaine , auoid , get thee from Bacons sight : Vagrant , goe rome and range about the world , And perish as a vagabond on earth . Miles . Why then , sir , you forbid me your seruice . Bacon . My seruice , villaine ? with a fatall curse , That dire full plagues and mischiefe fall on thee . Miles .

T is no matter , I am against you with the old prouerb , The more the Foxe is curst , the better he fares . God be with you , sir , I le take but a booke in my hand , a wide sleeued gowne on my backe , and a crowned cap on my head , and see If I can want promotion .

Bacon . Some fiend or ghost haunt on thy weary steps , Vntill they doe transport thee quicke to hell : For Bacon shall haue neuer merry day , To lose the fame and honour of his Head . Exit . Enter Emperour , Castile , Henry , Ellinor , Edward , Lacie , Raphe . Emper. Now louely Prince , the Prince of Albions wealth , How fares the Lady Ellinor and you ? What , haue you courted and found Castile fit , To answere England in equiuolence ? Wilt be a match twixt bonny Nell and thee ? Edward . Should Paris enter in the courts of Greece , And not lye fettered in faire Hellens lookes ? Or Phoebus scape those piercing amorits , That Daphne glanced at his deitie ? Can Edward then sit by a flame and freeze , Whose heat puts Hellen and faire Daphne downe ? Now Monarks , aske the Lady if we gree Henry . What , Madam , hath my sonne found grace or no ? Ellinor . Seeing my Lord his louely counterfeit , And hearing how his minde and shape agreed , I come not , troopt with all this warlike traine , Doubting of loue , but so affectionate , As Edward hath in England what he wonne in Spaine . Castile . A match , my Lord , these wantons needs must loue : Men must haue wiues , and women must be wed , Let 's haste the day to honour vp the rites . Raphe . Sirra Harry , shall Ned marry Nell ? Henry . I , Raphe , how then ? Raphe .

Mary Harry , follow my counsell , send for Fryer Bacon to marry them , for hee le so coniure him and her with his Nigromancy , that they shall loue together like Pigge & Lambe whilest they liue .

Castile .

But hearst thou , Raphe , art thou content to haue Ellinor to thy Lady ?

Raphe .

I , so she will promise me two things .

Castile .

What s that , Raphe ?

Raphe .

That she will neuer scold with Ned , nor fight with me , Sirra Harry , I haue put her downe with a thing vnpossible .

Henry .

What s that , Raphe ?

Raphe .

Why Harry , didst thou euer see that a woman could both hold her tongue and her hands ? no : but when egge-pyes grow on Apple-trees , then will thy gray Mare proue a Bag-piper .

Emperour .

What sayes the Lord of Castile and the Earle of Lincolne , that they are in such earnest and secret talke ?

Castile . I stand , my Lord , amazed at his talke ? How he discourseth of the constancy Of one surnam'd for beauties excellence , The faire maid of Fresingfield . Henry . T is true , my Lord , t is wondrous for to heare , Her beautie passing Marses Paramour : Her virgins right as rich as Vestas was , Lacy and Ned haue told me miracles . Castile . What sayes Lord Lacy ? shall she be his wife ? Lacy. Or else Lord Lacy is vnfit to liue . May it please your Highnesse giue me leaue to poast To Fresingfield , I le fetch the bonny girle , And proue in true apparance at the Court , What I haue vouched often with my tongue . Henry . Lacy , goe to the Quiry of my Stable , And take such Coursers as shall fit thy turne , Hie thee to Fresingfield , and bring home the Lasse , And , for her fame flies through the English coast , If it may please the Lady Ellinor , One day shall match your Excellence and her . Ellinor . We Castile Ladies are not very coy , Your Highnesse may command a greater boone : And glad were I to grace the Lincolne Earle With being partner of his marriage day . Edward . Gramercy , Nell , for I doe loue the Lord , As he that 's second to my selfe in loue . Raphe .

You loue her ? Madam Nell , neuer beleeue him you , though he sweares he loues you .

Ellinor .

Why Raphe ?

Raphe .

Why , his loue is like vnto a Tapsters glasse that is broken with euery tutch ; for he loued the faire maid of Fresingfield once out of all hoe ; nay Ned , neuer winke vpon me , I care not , I .

Hen. Raphe tels all , you shall haue a good Secretary of him . But , Lacy , haste thee poast to Fresingfield : For ere thou hast fitted all things for her state , The solemne marriage day will be at hand . Lacy. I goe , my Lord . Exit Lacy . Emperour . How shall we passe this day , my Lord ? Henry . To horse , my Lord , the day is passing faire , Wee le flie the Partridge , or goe rouze the Deere . Follow , my Lords , you shall not want for sport . Exeunt . Enter Fryer Bacon with Fryer Bungay , to his Cell . Bungay . What meanes the Fryer that frolickt it of late , To sit as melancholy in his Cell , As if he had neither lost nor wonne to day ? Bacon . Ah Bungay , my brazen-head is spoil'd , My glory gone , my seuen yeeres study lost : The fame of Bacon bruted through the world , Shall end and perish with this deepe disgrace . Bungay . Bacon hath built foundation on his fame , So surely on the wings of true report , With acting strange and vncoth miracles , As this cannot infringe what he deserues . Bacon . Bungay , sit downe , for by prospectiue skill , I find this day shall fall out ominous , Some deadly act shall betide me ere I sleepe : But what and wherein little can I gesse . Bungay . My minde is heauy whatsoere shall hap . Enter two Schollers , sonnes to Lambert and Serlsby . Knocke . Bacon . Who 's that knockes ? Bungay . Two Schollers that desire to speake with you . Bac. Bid them come in . Now , my youths , what would you haue ? 1. Scholler . Sir , we are Suffolke men & neighbouring friends , Our fathers in their Countries lusty Squires , Their lands adioyne , in Crackfield mine doth dwell , And his in Laxfield , we are Colledge mates , Sworne brothers ; as our fathers liue as friends . Bacon . To what end is all this ? 2. Scholler . Hearing your worship kept within your Cell A glasse prospectiue wherein men might see , What so their thoughts or hearts desire could wish , We come to know how that our fathers fare . Bacon . My glasse is free for euery honest man . Sit downe , and you shall see ere long , How or in what state your friendly fathers liue , Meane while tell me your names . Lambert . Mine Lambert . 3. Scholler . And mine Serlsby . Bacon . Bungay , I smell there will be a Tragedy . Enter Lambert and Serlsby , with Rapiers and Daggers . Lambert . Serlsby , thou hast kept thine houre like a man , Th' art worthy of the title of a Squire : That durst for proofe of thy affection , And for thy mistresse fauour prize thy blood ; Thou knowst what words did passe at Fresingfield , Such shamelesse braues as manhood cannot brooke : I , for I skorne to beare such pearcing taunts , Prepare thee , Serlsby , one of vs will die . Serlsby . Thou seest I single thee the field , And what I spake , I le maintaine with my sword : Stand on thy guard , I cannot scold it out . And if thou kill me , thinke I haue a sonne , That liues in Oxford in the Brodgates hall , Who will reuenge his fathers blood with blood . Lambert . And Serlsby , I haue there a lusty boy , That dares at weapon buckle with thy sonne , And liues in Brodgates too as well as thine ; But draw thy Rapier : for wee le haue a bout . Bacon . Now lusty yonkers , looke within the glasse , And tell me if you can discerne your sires . 1. Schol. Serlsby , t is hard , thy father offers wrong , To combat with my father in the field . 2. Schol. Lambert , thou liest , my fathers is the abuse , And thou shalt finde it , if my father haue harme . Bungay . How goes it , sirs ? 1. Schol. Our fathers are in combat hard by Fresingfield . Bacon , Sit still , my friends , and see the euent . Lambert . Why standst thou , Serlsby , doubtst thou of thy life ? A veny , man , faire Margret craues so much . Serlsby . Then this for her . 1. Scholler . Ah , well thrust . 2. Scholler . But marke the ward . Lambert . Oh , I am slaine . Serlsby . And I , Lord haue mercy on me . 1. Scholler . My father slaine , Serlsby ward that . The two Schollers stab one another . 2. Scholler . And so is mine , Lambert , I le quite thee well . Bungay . O strange stratagem ! Bacon . See , Fryer , where the fathers both lye dead . Bacon , thy magicke doth effect this massacre : This glasse prospectiue worketh many woes , And therefore seeing these lusty Brutes , These friendly youths did perish by thine Art . End all thy magicke and thine Art at once : The poniard that did end the fatall liues , Shall breake the cause efficiat of their woes , So fade the glasse , and end with it the showes , That Nigromancy did infuse the christall with . He breakes the glasse . Bung. What meanes learned Bacon thus to breake his glasse ? Bacon . I tell thee , Bungay , it repents me sore , That euer Bacon meddled in this Art , The houres I haue spent in Piromanticke spels , The fearefull tossing in the latest night , Of papers full of Nigromanticke charmes , Coniuring and adiuring Deuils and Fiends , With Stole and Albe , and strange Pentaganon , The wresting of the holy Name of God , As Sother , Eloim , and Adonai , Alpha , Manoth , and Tetragrammaton , With praying to the fiue-fold powers of heauen , Are instances that Bacon must be damn'd , For vsing Deuils to counteruaile his God . Yet , Bacon , cheere thee , drowne not in despaire , Sinnes haue their salues , repentance can doe much : Thinke mercy sits where Iustice holds her seate , And from those wounds those bloody Iewes did pierce , Which by thy magicke oft did bleed afresh , From thence for thee the dew of mercy drops , To wash the wrath of hie Iehouahs ire , And make thee as a new-borne babe from sinne . Bungay , I le spend the remnant of my life In pure deuotion , praying to my God , That he would saue what Bacon vainly lost . Exit . Enter Margret in Nuns apparell , Keeper , her father , and their friend . Keeper . Margret , be not so head-strong in these vowes . Oh bury not such beauty in a Cell : That England hath held famous for the hue . Thy fathers haire like to the siluer bloomes : That beautifies the shrubs of Affrica Shall fall before the dated time of death , Thus to forgoe his louely Margret . Margret . A father , when the harmony of heauen Soundeth the measures of a liuely faith : The vaine Illusions of this flattering world , Seeme odious to the thoughts of Margret . I loued once , Lord Lacy was my loue , And now I hate my selfe for that I lou'd , And doated more on him than on my God : For this I scourge my selfe with sharpe repents ; But now the touch of such aspiring sinnes Tels me , all loue is lust , but loue of heauens : That beauty vsde for loue is vanity , The world containes nought but alluring baites : Pride , flattery , and inconstant thoughts , To shun the pricks of death , I leaue the world , And vow to meditate on heauenly blisse , To liue in Fremingham a holy Nunne , Holy and pure in conscience and in deed : And for to wish all maides to learne of me , To seeke heauens ioy before earths vanity . Friend .

And will you then , Margret , be shorne a Nunne , and so leaue vs all ?

Margret . Now farewell world , the engin of all woe , Farewell to friends and father , welcome Christ : Adieu to dainty robes , this base attire Better befits an humble minde to God , Then all the shew of rich habilliments . Loue , oh Loue , and with fond Loue farewell , Sweet Lacy , whom I loued once so deare , Euer be well , but neuer in my thoughts , Lest I offend to thinke on Lacies loue : But euen to that as to the rest , farewell . Enter Lacy , Warrain , Ermsby , booted and spurd . Lacy. Come on my wags , we 're neere the Keepers Lodge , Here haue I oft walkt in the watry Meades , And chatted with my louely Margret . Warraine . Sirra Ned , is not this the Keeper ? Lacy. T is the same , Ermsby . The old lecher hath gotten holy mutton to him , a Nunne , my Lord . Lacy. Keeper , how farest thou holla man , what cheere , How doth Peggie thy daughter and my loue ? Keeper . Ah , good my Lord ! oh , woe is me for Pegge , See where she stands clad in her Nunnes attire , Ready for to be shorne in Fremigham : She leaues the world , because she left your loue , Oh good my Lord , perswade her if you can . Lacy. Why how now Margret , what a malecontent , A Nunne ? what holy father taught you this , To taske your selfe to such a tedious life , As dye a maid ? 't were iniury to me , To smother vp such beauty in a Cell . Margret . Lord Lacy , thinking of thy forme misse , How fond the prime of wanton yeeres were spent In loue , Oh fie vpon that fond conceite , Whose hap and essence hangeth in the eye , I leaue both loue and loues content at once , Betaking me to him that is true loue , And leauing all the world for loue of him . Lacy. Whence , Peggie , comes this Metamorphosis ? What , shorne a Nunne , and I haue from the Court Poasted with coursers to conuay thee hence , To Windsore , where our marriage shall be kept ? Thy wedding robes are in the Taylors hands . Come , Peggie , leaue these peremptory vowes . Margret . Did not my Lord resigne his interest , And make diuorce twixt Margret and him ? Lacy. 'T was but to trye sweet Peggies constancy : But will faire Margret leaue her loue and Lord ? Margret . Is not heauens ioy before earths fading blisse ? And life aboue sweeter then life in loue ? Lacy. Why then , Margret will be shorne a Nun . Marg. Margret hath made a vow , which may not be reuokt . Warraine . We cannot stay , my Lord , and if she be so strict , Our leisure graunts vs not to woo afresh . Ermsby . Choose you , faire Damsell , yet the choise is yours , Either a solemne Nunnery , or the Court , God , or Lord Lacy , which contents you best , To be a Nun , or else Lord Lacies wife ? Lacy. A good motion . Peggie , your answere must be short . Marg. The flesh is frayle , my Lord doth know it well , That when he comes with his inchanting face , Whatsoere betide , I cannot say him nay . Off goes the habit of a maidens heart , And seeing fortune will , faire Fremingham , And all the shew of holy Nuns , farewell , Lacy for me , if he will be my Lord . Lacy. Peggie , thy Lord , thy loue , thy husband , Trust me , by truth of Knighthood , that the King Stayes for to marry matchlesse Ellinor , Vntill I bring thee richly to the Court , That one day may both marry her and thee . How saist thou Keeper , art thou glad of this ? Keeper . As if the English King had giuen The Parke and Deere of Fresingfield to me . Ermesby .

I pray thee my Lord of Sussex , why art thou in a browne study ?

Warraine .

To see the nature of women , that be they neuer so neere God , yet they loue to dye in a mans armes .

Lacy.

What haue you fit for breakefast ? we haue hied and poasted all this night to Fresingfield .

Margret . Butter and cheese , and humbles of a Deere , Such as poore Keepers haue within their Lodge . Lacy. And not a bottle of wine ? Margret . Wee le find one for my Lord . Lacy.

Come , Sussex , let 's in , wee shall haue more , for shee speakes least , to hold her promise sure .

Exeunt . Enter a Deuill to seeke Miles . Deuill . How restlesse are the ghosts of hellish sprites , When euery Charmer with his Magicke spels Cals vs from nine-fold trenched Phlegiton , To scud and ouer-scoure the earth in poast , Vpon the speedy wings of swiftest winds ? Now Bacon hath raisd me from the darkest deepe , To search about the world for Miles his man , For Miles , and to torment his lazy bones , For carelesse watching of his brazen-head . See where he comes : Oh he is mine . Enter Miles with a gowne and a corner cap. Miles .

A Scholler , quoth you , mary sir , I would I had been made a bottle-maker , when I was made a scholler ; for I can get neither to be a Deacon , Reader , nor Schoole-master ; no , not the Clarke of a Parish ; some call me dunce : another saith , my head is as full of Latine , as an eg 's full of oate-meale : thus I am tormented , that the Deuill and Frier Bacon haunts me . Good Lord , here 's one of my masters Deuils I le goe speake to him : what master Plutus , how cheere you ?

Deuill .

Doost thou know me ?

Miles .

Know you , sir , why are not you one of my masters Deuils , that were wont to come to my master Doctor Bacon , at Brazen-nose ?

Deuill .

Yes mary am I .

Miles .

Good Lord , M. Plutus , I haue seene you a thousand times at my masters , and yet I had neuer the manners to make you drinke ; but sir , I am glad to see how conformable you are to the state ; I warrant you , he 's as yeomanly a man , as you shall see , marke you masters , here 's a plain honest man , without welt or gard ; but I pray you sir , doe you come lately from hell ?

Deuill .

I mary , how then ?

Miles .

Faith , t is a place I haue desired long to see , haue you not good tippling houses there ? may not a man haue a lusty fire there , a pot of good Ale , a paire of cardes , a swinging peece of chalke , and a browne toast that will clap a white wastcoat on a cup of good drinke ?

Deuill .

All this you may haue there .

Miles .

You are for me , friend , and I am for you : but I pray you , may I not haue an office there ?

Deuill .

Yes , a thousand : what wouldst thou be ?

Miles .

By my troth , sir , in a place , where I may profit my selfe . I know hell is a hot place , and men are maruellous dry , and much drinke is spent there ; I would be a Tapster .

Deuill .

Thou shalt ,

Miles .

There 's nothing lets me from going with you , but that t is a long iourney , and I haue neuer a horse .

Deuill .

Thou shalt ride on my backe .

Miles .

Now surely here 's a courteous deuill , that for to pleasure his friend , will not sticke to make a Iade of himselfe : but I pray you goodman friend , let me moue a question to you .

Deuill .

What 's that ?

Miles .

I pray you , whether is your pace a trot or an amble ?

Deuill .

An amble .

Miles . T is well , but take heed it be not a trot , But t is no matter , I le preuent it . Deuill .

What doest ?

Miles .

Mary , friend , I put on my spurs : for if I find your pace either a trot , or else vneasie , I le put you to a false gallop , I le make you feele the benefit of my spurs .

Deuill .

Get vp vpon my backe .

Miles .

Oh Lord , here 's euen a goodly maruell , when a man rides to hell on the Deuils backe .

Exeunt roaring . Enter the Emperour with a pointlesse sword , next , the King of Castile , carrying a sword with a point , Lacy carrying the Globe , Edward Warraine carrying a rod of gold with a Doue on it , Ermsby with a Crowne and Scepter , the Queene with the faire maide of Fresingfield on her left hand , Henry , Bacon , with other Lords attending . Edward . Great Potentates , earths miracles for state , Thinke that Prince Edward humbles at your feet , And for these fauours on his martiall sword , He vowes perpetuall homage to your selues , Yeelding these honours vnto Ellinour . Henrie . Gramercies , Lordings , old Plantagenet , That rules and swayes the Albion Diademe , With teares discouers these conceiued ioyes , And vowes requitall , if his men at armes , The wealth of England , or due honours done To Ellinor , may quite his Fauorites . But all this while what say you to the Dames , That shine like to the christall lampes of heauen ? Emperour . If but a third were added to these two , They did surpasse those gorgeous Images , That gloried Ida with rich beauties wealth . Margret . T is I , my Lords , who humbly on my knee , Must yeeld her horisons to mighty Ioue , For lifting vp his handmaide to this state , Brought from her homely cottage to the Court , And graste with Kings , Princes and Emperours , To whom ( next to the noble Lincolne Earle ) I vow obedience , and such humble loue , As may a handmaid to such mighty men . Ellinor . Thou martiall man , that weares the Almaine Crown , And you the Westerne Potentates of might , The Albian Princesse English Edwards wife , Proud that the louely star of Fresingfield , Faire Margret , Countesse to the Lincolne Earle , Attends on Ellinour : gramercies , Lord , for her . T is I giue thankes for Margret to you all , And rest for her due bounden to your selues . Henrie . Seeing the marriage is solemnized , Let 's march in triumph to the Royall feast . But why stands Fryer Bacon here so mute ? Bacon . Repentant for the follies of my youth , That Magicks secret mysteries misled , And ioyfull that this Royall marriage Portends such blisse vnto this matchlesse Realme . Hen. Why , Bacon , what strange euent shall happen to this Land ? Or what shall grow from Edward and his Queene ? Bacon . I find by deepe praescience of mine Art , Which once I tempred in my secret Cell , That here where Brute did build his Troynouant , From forth the Royall Garden of a King , Shall flourish out so rich and faire a bud , Whose brightnesse shall deface proud Phoebus flowre , And ouer-shadow Albion with her leaues . Till then , Mars shall be master of the field , But then the stormy threats of wars shall cease , The horse shall stampe as carelesse of the pike , Drums shall be turn'd to timbrels of delight , With wealthy fauours , plenty shall enrich The strond that gladded wandring Brute to see , And peace from heauen shall harbour in these leaues , That gorgeous beautifies this matchlesse flower , Apollos Hellitropian then shall stoope , And Ʋenus hyacinth shall vaile her top , Iuno shall shut her Gilliflowers vp , And Pallas Bay shall bash her brightest greene . Ceres carnation in confort with those , Shall stoope and wonder at Diana's Rose . Henrie . This Prophesie is mysticall , But glorious Commanders of Europa's loue , That makes faire England like that wealthy Ile , Circled with Gihen and first Euphrates , In Royallizing Henries Albion , With presence of your princely mightinesse , Let 's march , the tables all are spred , And viandes such as Englands wealth affords , Are ready set to furnish out the bords , You shall haue welcome , mighty Potentates , It rests to furnish vp this Royall Feast , Only your hearts be frolicke : for the time Craues that we taste of nought but iouysance . Thus glories England ouer all the West . Exeunt omnes . Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit vtile dulci. FINIS .