CONTENTS
Epistle Dedicatorie to the First Folio
Ja. Shirley to the Reader (First Folio)
The Stationer to the Readers (First Folio)
Commendatory Verses (First Folio)
A Catalogue of all the Comedies and Tragedies (First Folio)
Title-page of the Second Folio
The Booksellers to the Reader (Second Folio)
A Catalogue of all the Comedies and Tragedies (Second Folio)
The Maids Tragedy
Philaster: or, Love lies a Bleeding
A King, and no King
The Scornful Lady, a Comedy
The Custom of the Country
Appendix
TO
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
PHILIP
Earle of Pembroke and Mountgomery:
Baron Herbert of Cardiffe and Sherland,
Lord Parr and Ross of Kendall; Lord Fitz-Hugh,
Marmyon, and Saint Quintin; Knight of the most noble Order of the Garter; and one of His Majesties most Honourable Privie Councell: And our Singular Good Lord.
My Lord, There is none among all the Names of Honour, that hath A more encouraged the Legitimate Muses of this latter Age, then that which is owing to your Familie; whose Coronet shines bright with the native luster of its owne Jewels, which with the accesse of some Beames of Sydney, twisted with their Flame presents a Constellation, from whose Influence all good may be still expected upon Witt and Learning.
At this Truth we rejoyce, but yet aloofe, and in our owne valley, for we dare not approach with any capacity in our selves to apply your Smile, since wee have only preserved as Trustees to the Ashes of the Authors, what wee exhibit to your Honour, it being no more our owne, then those Imperiall Crownes and Garlands were the Souldiers, who were honourably designed for their Conveyance before the Triumpher to the Capitol.
But directed by the example of some, who once steered in our qualitie, and so fortunately aspired to choose your Honour, joyned with your (now glorified) Brother, Patrons to the flowing compositions of the then expired sweet Swan of Avon SHAKESPEARE; and since, more particularly bound to your Lordships most constant and diffusive Goodnesse, from which, wee did for many calme yeares derive a subsistence to our selves, and Protection to the Scene (now withered, and condemned, as we feare, to a long Winter and sterilitie) we have presumed to offer to your Selfe, what before was never printed of these Authours.
Had they beene lesse then all the Treasure we had contrasted in the whole Age of Poesie (some few Poems of their owne excepted, which already published, command their entertainement, with all lovers of Art and Language) or were they not, the most justly admir'd, and beloved Pieces of Witt and the World, _wee should have taught our selves a lesse Ambition.
Be pleased to accept this humble tender of our duties, and till we faile in our obedience to all your Commands, vouchsafe, we may be knowne by the_ Cognizance and Character of
MY LORD,
Your Honours most bounden
John Lowin
Richard Robinson
Eyloerd Swanston
Hugh Clearke
Stephen Hammerton
Joseph Taylor
Robert Benfeild
Thomas Pollard
William Allen
Theophilus Byrd.
TO THE READER.
Poetry is the Child of Nature, which regulated and made beautifull by Art, presenteth the most Harmonious of all other compositions; among which (if we rightly consider) the Dramaticall is the most absolute, in regard of those transcendent Abilities, which should waite upon the_ Composer; who must have more then the instruction of Libraries which of it selfe is but a cold contemplative knowledge there being required in him a Soule miraculously knowing, and conversing with all mankind, inabling him to expresse not onely the Phlegme and folly of thick-skin'd men, but the strength and maturity of the wise, the Aire and insinuations of the Court, _the discipline and Resolution of the Soldier, the Vertues and passions of every noble condition, nay the councells and charailers of the greatest Princes.
This you will say is a vast comprehension, and hath not hapned in many Ages. Be it then remembred to the Glory of our owne, that all these are Demonstrative and met in_ BEAUMONT & FLETCHER, whom but to mention is to throw a cloude upon all former names and benight Posterity; This Book being, without flattery, the greatest Monument of the Scene that Time and Humanity have produced, and must Live, not only the Crowne and sole Reputation of our owne, but the stayne of all other Nations and Languages, for it may be boldly averred, not one indiscretion hath branded this Paper in all the Lines, this being the Authentick witt that made Blackfriers an Academy, where the three howers spectacle while Beaumont and Fletcher _were presented, were usually of more advantage to the hopefull young Heire, then a costly, dangerous, forraigne Travell, with the assistance of a governing Mounsieur, or Signior to boot; And it cannot be denied but that the young spirits of the Time, whose Birth & Quality made them impatient of the sowrer wayes of education, have from the attentive hearing these pieces, got ground in point of wit and carriage of the most severely employed Students, while these Recreations were digested into Rules, and the very Pleasure did edifie. How many passable discoursing dining witts stand yet in good credit upon the bare stock of two or three of these single Scenes.
And now Reader in this_ Tragicall Age where the Theater hath been so much out-ailed, congratulate thy owne happinesse, that in this silence of the Stage, thou hast a liberty to reade these inimitable Playes, to dwell and converse in these immortall Groves, which were only shewd our Fathers in a conjuring glasse, as suddenly removed as represented, the Landscrap is now brought home by this optick, and the Presse thought too pregnant before, shall be now look'd upon as greatest Benefactor to Englishmen, that must acknowledge all the felicity of witt and words _to this Derivation.
You may here find passions raised to that excellent pitch and by such insinuating degrees that you shall not chuse but consent, and & go along with them, finding your self at last grown insensibly the very same person you read, and then stand admiring the subtile Trackes of your engagement. Fall on a Scene of love and you will never believe the writers could have the least roome left in their soules for another passion, peruse a Scene of manly Rage, and you would sweare they cannot be exprest by the same hands, but both are so excellently wrought, you must confesse none, but the same hands, could worke them.
Would thy Melancholy have a cure? thou shalt laugh at_ Democritus himselfe, and but reading one piece of this Comick variety, finde thy exalted fancie in Elizium; And when thou art sick of this cure, (for the excesse of delight may too much dilate thy soule,) thou shalt meete almost in every leafe a soft purling passion or spring of sorrow so powerfully wrought high by the teares of innocence, and wronged Lovers, _it shall persuade thy eyes to weepe into the streame, and yet smile when they contribute to their owne ruines.
Infinitely more might be said of these rare Copies, but let the ingenuous Reader peruse them & he will finde them so able to speake their own worth, that they need not come into the world with a trumpet, since any one of these incomparable pieces well understood will prove a_ Preface to the rest, and if the Reader can fast the best wit ever trod our English Stage, he will be forced himselfe to become a breathing Panegerick _to them all.
Not to detaine or prepare thee longer, be as capritious and sick-brain'd, as ignorance & malice can make thee, here thou art rectified, or be as healthfull as the inward calme of an honest_ Heart, Learning, and Temper can state thy disposition, yet this booke may be thy fortunate concernement _and Companion.
It is not so remote in Time, but very many Gentlemen may remember these Authors & some familiar in their conversation deliver them upon every pleasant occasion so fluent, to talke a Comedy. He must be a bold man that dares undertake to write their Lives. What I have to say is, we have the precious_ Remaines, and as the wisest contemporaries acknowledge they Lived a Miracle, _I am very confident this volume cannot die without one.
What more specially concerne these Authors and their workes is told thee by another hand in the following Epistle of the_ Stationer to the Readers.
Farwell, Reade, and feare not thine owne understanding, this Booke will create a cleare one in thee, and when thou hast considered thy purchase, thou wilt call the price of it a Charity to thy selfe, and at the same time forgive thy friend, and these Authors humble admirer,
JA. SHIRLEY.
The Stationer to the Readers.
Gentlemen, before you engage farther, be pleased to take notice of these Particulars. You have here a New Booke; I can speake it clearely; for of all this large Volume of Comedies and Tragedies, not one, till now, was ever printed before. A Collection of Playes is commonly but a new Impression, the scattered pieces which were printed single, being then onely Republished together: 'Tis otherwise here.
Next, as it is all New, so here is not any thing Spurious or impos'd; I had the Originalls from such as received them from the Authours themselves; by Those, and none other, I publish this Edition.
And as here's nothing but what is genuine and Theirs, so you will finde here are no Omissions; you have not onely All I could get, but All that you must ever expect. For (besides those which were formerly printed) there is not any Piece written by these Authours, either Joyntly or Severally, but what are now publish'd to the World in this Volume. One only Play I must except (for I meane to deale openly) 'tis a COMEDY called the Wilde-goose Chase, which hath beene long lost, and I feare irrecoverable; for a Person of Quality borrowed it from the Actours many yeares since, and (by the negligence of a Servant) it was never return'd; therefore now I put up this Si quis, that whosoever hereafter happily meetes with it, shall be thankfully satisfied if he please to send it home.
Some Playes (you know) written by these Authors were heretofore Printed: I thought not convenient to mixe them with this Volume, which of it selfe is entirely New. And indeed it would have rendred the Booke so Voluminous, that Ladies and Gentlewomen would have found it scarce manageable, who in Workes of this nature must first be remembred. Besides, I considered those former Pieces had been so long printed and re-printed, that many Gentlemen were already furnished; and I would have none say, they pay twice for the same Booke.
One thing I must answer before it bee objected; 'tis this: When these Comedies and Tragedies were presented on the Stage, the Actours omitted some Scenes and Passages (with the Authour's consent) as occasion led them; and when private friends desir'd a Copy, they then (and justly too) transcribed what they Acted. But now you have both All that was Acted, and all that was not; even the perfect full Originalls without the least mutilation; So that were the Authours living, (and sure they can never dye) they themselves would challenge neither more nor lesse then what is here published; this Volume being now so compleate and finish'd, that the Reader must expect no future Alterations.
For literall Errours committed by the Printer, 'tis the fashion to aske pardon, and as much in fashion to take no notice of him that asks it; but in this also I have done my endeavour. 'Twere vaine to mention the Chargeablenesse of this Work; for those who own'd the Manuscripts, too well knew their value to make a cheap estimate of any of these Pieces, and though another joyn'd with me in the Purchase and Printing, yet the Care & Pains was wholly mine, which I found to be more then you'l easily imagine, unlesse you knew into how many hands the Originalls were dispersed. They are all now happily met in this Book, having escaped these Publike Troubles, free and unmangled. Heretofore when Gentlemen desired but a Copy of any of these Playes, the meanest piece here (if any may be called Meane where every one is Best) cost them more then foure times the price you pay for the whole Volume.
I should scarce have adventured in these slippery times on such a work as this, if knowing persons had not generally assured mee that these Authors were the most unquestionable Wits this Kingdome hath afforded. Mr. Beaumont was ever acknowledged a man of a most strong and searching braine; and (his yeares considered) the most Judicious Wit these later Ages have produced; he dyed young, for (which was an invaluable losse to this Nation) he left the world when hee was not full thirty yeares old. Mr. Fletcher survived, and lived till almost fifty; whereof the World now enjoyes the benefit. It was once in my thoughts to have Printed Mr. Fletcher's workes by themselves, because single & alone he would make a Just Volume: But since never parted while they lived, I conceived it not equitable to seperate their ashes.
It becomes not me to say (though it be a knowne Truth) that these Authors had not only High unexpressible gifts of Nature, but also excellent acquired Parts, being furnished with Arts and Sciences by that liberall education they had at the University, which sure is the best place to make a great Wit understand it selfe; this their workes will soone make evident. I was very ambitious to have got Mr. Beaumonts picture; but could not possibly, though I spared no enquirie in those Noble Families whence he was descended, as also among those Gentlemen that were his acquaintance when he was of the Inner Temple: the best Pictures and those most like him you'll finde in this Volume. This figure of Mr. Fletcher was cut by severall Originall Pieces, which his friends lent me, but withall they tell me, that his unimitable Soule did shine through his countenance in such Ayre and Spirit, that the Painters confessed, it was not easie to expresse him: As much as could be, you have here, and the Graver hath done his part. What ever I have scene of Mr. Fletchers owne hand, is free from interlining; and his friends affirme he never writ any one thing twice: it seemes he had that rare felicity to prepare and perfect all first in his owne braine; to shape and attire his Notions, to adde or loppe off, before he committed one word to writing, and never touched pen till all was to stand as firme and immutable as if ingraven in Brasse or Marble. But I keepe you too long from those friends of his whom 'tis fitter for you to read; only accept of the honest endeavours of
One that is a Servant to you all
HUMPHREY MOSELEY.
At the Princes Armes in
St Pauls Church-yard. Feb._ 14th 1646.
To the Stationer.
Tell the sad World that now the lab'ring Presse
Has brought forth safe a Child of happinesse,
The Frontis-piece will satisfie the wise
And good so well, they will not grudge the price.
'Tis not all Kingdomes joyn'd in one could buy
(If priz'd aright) so true a Library
Of man: where we the characters may finde
Of ev'ry Nobler and each baser minde.
Desert has here reward in one good line
For all it lost, for all it might repine:
Vile and ignobler things are open laid,
The truth of their false colours are displayed:
You'l say the Poet's both best Judge and Priest,
No guilty soule abides so sharp a test
As their smooth Pen; for what these rare men writ
Commands the World, both Honesty and Wit.
GRANDISON.
IN MEMORY OF Mr. JOHN FLETCHER.
Me thought our Fletcher weary of this croud,
Wherein so few have witt, yet all are loud,
Unto Elyzium fled, where he alone
Might his own witt admire and ours bemoane;
But soone upon those Flowry Bankes, a throng
Worthy of those even numbers which he sung,
Appeared, and though those Ancient Laureates strive
When dead themselves, whose raptures should survive,
For his Temples all their owne bayes allowes,
Not sham'd to see him crown'd with naked browes;
Homer his beautifull Achilles nam'd,
Urging his braine with Joves might well be fam'd,
Since it brought forth one full of beauties charmes,
As was his Pallas, and as bold in Armes; [-King and no King.-]
But when he the brave Arbases saw, one
That saved his peoples dangers by his own,
And saw Tigranes by his hand undon
Without the helpe of any Mirmydon,
He then confess'd when next hee'd Hector slay,
That he must borrow him from Fletchers Play;
This might have beene the shame, for which he bid
His Iliades in a Nut-shell should be hid:
Virgill of his Æneas next begun,
Whose God-like forme and tongue so soone had wonne;
That Queene of Carthage and of beauty too,
Two powers the whole world else were slaves unto,
Urging that Prince for to repaire his faulte
On earth, boldly in hell his Mistresse sought; [-The Maides Tragedy.-]
But when he Amintor saw revenge that wrong,
For which the sad Aspasia sigh'd so long,
Upon himselfe, to shades hasting away,
Not for to make a visit but to stay;
He then did modestly confesse how farr
Fletcher out-did him in a Charactar.
Now lastly for a refuge, Virgill shewes
The lines where Corydon Alexis woes;
But those in opposition quickly met [-The faithfull Shepherdesse.-]
The smooth tongu'd Perigot and Amoret:
A paire whom doubtlesse had the others seene,
They from their owne loves had Apostates beene;
Thus Fletcher did the fam'd laureat exceed,
Both when his Trumpet sounded and his reed;
Now if the Ancients yeeld that heretofore,
None worthyer then those ere Laurell wore;
The least our age can say now thou art gon,
Is that there never will be such a one:
And since t' expresse thy worth, our rimes too narrow be,
To help it wee'l be ample in our prophesie.
H. HOWARD.
On Mr John Fletcher, and his Workes, never before published.
To flatter living fooles is easie slight:
But hard, to do the living-dead men right.
To praise a Landed Lord, is gainfull art:
But thanklesse to pay Tribute to desert.
This should have been my taske: I had intent
To bring my rubbish to thy monument,
To stop some crannies there, but that I found
No need of least repaire; all firme and sound.
Thy well-built fame doth still it selfe advance
Above the Worlds mad zeale and ignorance,
Though thou dyedst not possest of that same pelfe
(Which Nobler soules call durt,) the City wealth:
Yet thou hast left unto the times so great
A Legacy, a Treasure so compleat,
That 'twill be hard I feare to prove thy Will:
Men will be wrangling, and in doubting still
How so vast summes of wit were left behind,
And yet nor debts nor sharers they can finde.
'Twas the kind providence of fate, to lock
Some of this Treasure up; and keep a stock
For a reserve untill these sullen daies:
When scorn, and want, and danger, are the Baies
That Crown the head of merit. But now he
Who in thy Will hath part, is rich and free.
But there's a Caveat enter'd by command,
None should pretend, but those can understand.
HENRY MODY, Baronet.
ON
Mr Fletchers Works.
Though Poets have a licence which they use
As th' ancient priviledge of their free Muse;
Yet whether this be leave enough for me
To write, great Bard, an Eulogie for thee:
Or whether to commend thy Worke, will stand
Both with the Lawes of Verse and of the Land,
Were to put doubts might raise a discontent
Between the Muses and the ——
I'le none of that. There's desperate wits that be
(As their immortall Lawrell) Thunder-free;
Whose personall vertues, 'bove the Lawes of Fate,
Supply the roome of personall estate:
And thus enfranchis'd, safely may rehearse,
Rapt in a lofty straine, [their] own neck-verse.
For he that gives the Bayes to thee, must then
First take it from the Militarie Men;
He must untriumph conquests, bid 'em stand,
Question the strength of their victorious hand.
He must act new things, or go neer the sin,
Reader, as neer as you and I have been:
He must be that, which He that tryes will swear
I[t] is not good being so another Yeare.
And now that thy great name I've brought to [this],
To do it honour is to do amisse,
What's to be done to those, that shall refuse
To celebrate, great Soule, thy noble Muse?
Shall the poore State of all those wandring things,
Thy Stage once rais'd to Emperors and Kings?
Shall rigid forfeitures (that reach our Heires)
Of things that only fill with cares and feares?
Shall the privation of a friendlesse life,
Made up of contradictions and strife?
Shall He be entitie, would antedate
His own poore name, and thine annihilate?
Shall these be judgements great enough for one
That dares not write thee an Encomion?
Then where am I? but now I've thought upon't,
I'le prayse thee more then all have ventur'd on't.
I'le take thy noble Work (and like the trade
Where for a heap of Salt pure Gold is layd)
I'le lay thy Volume, that Huge Tome of wit,
About in Ladies Closets, where they sit
Enthron'd in their own wills; and if she bee
A Laick sister, shee'l straight flie to thee:
But if a holy Habit shee have on,
Or be some Novice, shee'l scarce looks upon
Thy Lines at first; but watch Her then a while,
And you shall see Her steale a gentle smile
Upon thy Title, put thee neerer yet,
Breath on thy Lines a whisper, and then set
Her voyce up to the measures; then begin
To blesse the houre, and happy state shee's in.
Now shee layes by her Characters, and lookes
With a stern eye on all her pretty Bookes.
Shee's now thy Voteresse, and the just Crowne
She brings thee with it, is worth half the Towne.
I'le send thee to the Army, they that fight
Will read thy tragedies with some delight,
Be all thy Reformadoes, fancy scars,
And pay too, in thy speculative wars.
I'le send thy Comick scenes to some of those
That for a great while have plaid fast and loose;
New universalists, by changing shapes,
Have made with wit and fortune faire escapes.
Then shall the Countrie that poor Tennis-ball
Of angry fate, receive thy Pastorall,
And from it learn those melancholy straines
Fed the afflicted soules of Primitive swaines.
Thus the whole World to reverence will flock
Thy Tragick Buskin and thy Comick Stock;
And winged fame unto posterity
Transmit but onely two, this Age, and Thee.
THOMAS PEYTON.
Agricola Anglo-Cantianus.