Context:

Location: London (TQ3079)
Year: Publ. 1606
Time of Occurrence: [Not given]
Collective Name: [Not given]

Source:

[Anon.]
A Pleasant Comedie, called Wily Begvilde : Spectrvm.
London, Clement Knight, 1606

Cast:

Text:

The Prologue

What hoe, where are these paltrie Plaiers?
Still pouring in their papers
and neuer perfect? for shame
come forth, your Audience stay so long,
their eies waxe dim
with expectation.
{Enter one of the players}
How now my honest rogue;
what play shall we haue here to night?

Player

Sir you may looke vpon the Title.

Prologue

What. Spectrum once again?
Why noble Cerberus,
nothing but patch-pannell
stuffe, old gally-mawfreies
and cotton candle eloquence?
out you bawling bandogge foxfurd slaue :
you dried stockefish you,
out of my sight.
{Exit the Player.}
Well tis no matter :
Ile set mee downe and see't,
and for fault of a better,
Ile supply the place of a scuruy Prologue.
Spectrum is a looking glasse indeede,
Wherein a man a History may read,
Of base conceits and damned roguerie :
The very sinke of hell-bred villeny.

{Enter a Iugller.}

Iuggler

Why how now humerous George?
what as melancholy as a mantletree?
Will you see any trickes of Leigerdemaine,
slight of hand,
clenly conuayance,
or deceptio visus?
what will you see Gentleman to driue out of these dumps?

Prologue

Our you soust gurnet, you Woolfist,
be gon I say and bid the Players dispatch and come away quickly,
and tell their fiery Poet that before I have done with him;
Ile make him do penance upon a stage in a Calues skin.

Iuggler

O Lord sir ye are deceiued in me,
I am no tale-carrier, I am a Iuggler.
I haue the superficiall skill of all the seuen liberall sciences
at my fingers end.
Ile shew you a trick of the twelues,
and turne him ouer the thumbes with a trice
Ile make him fly swifter then meditation.
Ile shew you as many toies as there be minutes in a moneth,
and as many trickes as there be motes in the sunnne.

Prologue

Prithee what trickes canst your doe?

Iuggler

Marry sir I will shew you a trick of cleanly conueiance.
Hei fortuna furim nunquam credo,
With a case of cleane conueyance,
Come aloft Iack for thy masters aduantage
(hees gone I warrant ye.)

{Spectrum is conueied away : and Wily beguiled, stands in the place of it.}

Prologue

Mas an tis well done,
now I see thou canst doe something,
hold thee
thers twelue pence for thy labour.
Goe to that barme-froth Poet and to him say,
He quite has lost the Title of his play,
His Calue skin iests from hence are cleane exil'd
Thus once you see that Wily is beguil'd

{Exit the Iuggler.}

Prologue

Now kind Spectators, I dare boldy say,
You are all welcome to our Authors play:
Be still a while, and ere we goe,
Weele make your eies with laughter flowe.
Let Momus mates iudge how they list,
We feare not what they babble:
Nor any paltry Poets pen,
Amongst that rascall rabble.
But time forbids me further speech,
My tongue must stop hir race:
My time is come, I must be dumbe,
And giue the Actors place.

{Exit}

Notes:

The original text is mostly lain out as prose, with the occasional passage in rhyme. The format of this transcription has been made to match that of the derived text from Broughton, Lincolnshire., published in C.R.Baskervill (1924) pp.250-258.

File History:

1999-05-31 - Entered by Peter Millington
2021-01-15 - TEI-encoded by Peter Millington

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