George Peele.
I might, however, have added to the lesser names that decorated the closing years of the sixteenth century that of George Peele,[107] of Devonshire birth, but, like so many of his fellows, a university man: he came to be a favorite in London; loved taverns and wine as unwisely as Greene; was said to have great tact for the ordering of showy pageants; did win upon Queen Elizabeth by his “Arraignment of Paris” (half masque and half play) represented by the children of the Chapel Royal—and carrying luscious flattery to the ready ears of Eliza, Queen of—
“An ancient seat of Kings, a second Troy,
Y’compassed round with a commanding sea;
Her people are y-clepéd Angeli.
This paragon, this only, this is she
In whom do meet so many gifts in one
In honor of whose name the muses sing.”
Yet even such praises did not keep poor Peele from hard fare and a stinging lack of money.
“An Old Wives Tale,” which he wrote, has conjurers and dragons in it, with odd twists of language which remind one of the kindred and nonsensical jingle of “Patience” or “Pinafore:”—
“Phillida, Philleridos—pamphilida, florida, flortos;
Dub—dub a-dub, bounce! quoth the guns
With a sulpherous huff-snuff!”
This play is further notable for having supplied much of the motive for the machinery and movement of Milton’s noble poem of Comus. It is worth one’s while to compare the two. Of course Peele will suffer—as those who make beginnings always do.
This writer is said to have been sometime a shareholder with Shakespeare in the Blackfriars Theatre; he was an actor, too, like his great contemporary; and besides the plays which carried a wordy bounce in them, wrote a very tender scriptural drama about King David and the fair Bethsabe, with charming quotable things in it. Thus—
“Bright Bethsabe gives earth to my desires,
Verdure to earth, and to that verdure—flowers;
To flowers—sweet odors, and to odors—wings
That carries pleasure to the hearts of Kings!”
And again:—
“Now comes my lover tripping like the roe,
And brings my longings tangled in her hair
To joy her love, I’ll build a Kingly bower
Seated in hearing of a hundred streams.”
Tom Campbell said—“there is no such sweetness to be found in our blank verse anterior to Shakespeare.” And for his lyrical grace I cannot resist this little show, from his “Arraignment of Paris:”—
Ænone [singeth and pipeth].
“Fair and fair, and twice so fair,
As fair as any may be;
The fairest shepherd on our green,
A love for any lady.”
And Paris.
“Fair and fair and twice so fair,
As fair as any may be:
Thy love is fair for thee alone
And for no other lady.”
Then Ænone.
“My love is fair, my love is gay,
As fresh as bin the flowers in May,
And of my love my roundelay,
My merry, merry, merry roundelay,
Concludes with Cupid’s curse,
They that do change old love for new,
Pray Gods, they change for worse!”