INTRODUCTION TO SIR GYLES GOOSECAPPE.
This clever, though somewhat tedious, comedy was published anonymously in 1606. There is no known dramatic writer of that date to whom it could be assigned with any great degree of probability. The comic portion shows clearly the influence of Ben Jonson, and there is much to remind one of Lyly's court-comedies. In the serious scenes the philosophising and moralising, at one time expressed in language of inarticulate obscurity and at another attaining clear and dignified utterance, suggest a study of Chapman. The unknown writer might have taken as his motto a passage in the dedication of Ovid's Banquet of Sense:— "Obscurity in affection of words and indigested conceits is pedantical and childish; but where it shroudeth itself in the heart of his subject, uttered with fitness of figure and expressive epithets, with that darkness will I still labour to be shrouded." Chapman's Gentleman Usher was published in the same year as Sir Gyles Goosecappe; and I venture to think that in a passage of Act III., Scene II., our author had in his mind the exquisite scene between the wounded Strozza and his wife Cynanche. In Strozza's discourse on the joys of marriage occur these lines:—
"If he lament she melts herselfe in teares;
If he be glad she triumphs; if he stirre
She moon's his way: in all things his sweete Ape."
The charming fitness of the expression "sweet ape" would impress any capable reader. I cannot think that by mere accident the anonymous writer lighted on the same words:—
"Doe women bring no helpe of soule to men?
Why, friend, they either are mens soules themselves
Or the most witty imitatrixes of them,
Or prettiest sweet apes of humane soules."
From a reference to Queen Elizabeth in Act I., Scene I., it is clear that Sir Gyles Goosecappe was written not later than 1603. The lines I have quoted may have been added later; or our author may have seen the Gentleman Usher in manuscript.
Chapman's influence is again (me judice) apparent in the eloquent but somewhat strained language of such a passage as the following:—
"Alas, my noble Lord, he is not rich,
Nor titles hath, nor in his tender cheekes
The standing lake of Impudence corrupts;
Hath nought in all the world, nor nought wood have
To grace him in the prostituted light.
But if a man wood consort with a soule
Where all mans sea of gall and bitternes
Is quite evaporate with her holy flames,
And in whose powers a Dove-like innocence
Fosters her own deserts, and life and death
Runnes hand in hand before them, all the skies
Cleare and transparent to her piercing eyes.
Then wood my friend be something, but till then
A cipher, nothing, or the worst of men."
Sir Gyles Goosecappe is the work of one who had chosen the "fallentis semita vitae"; who was more at home in Academic cloisters than in the crowded highways of the world. None of the characters bears any impression of having been drawn from actual life. The plot is of the thinnest possible texture; but the fire of verbal quibbles is kept up with lively ingenuity, and plenty of merriment may be drawn from the humours of the affectate traveller and the foolish knight by all who are not
"of such vinegar aspect That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable."
The romantic friendship between the noble Lord Monford and the thoughtful Clarence is a pleasing study, planned and executed with a grave, sweet sincerity. It is not improbable that Clarence was the prototype of Charles in Fletcher's Elder Brother. The finest passage in the present play, where Clarence's modesty and Monford's nobility are portrayed in language of touching charm, was selected by Charles Lamb (whose judgment was never at fault) for quotation in the "Extracts from the Garrick Plays."
A second edition of Sir Gyles Goosecappe was issued, after the author's death, in 1636; and the following dedication was appended by Hugh Perry, the publisher:—
To the Worshipfull RICHARD YOUNG of Woolleyfarme in the County of Berks,
Esquire.
WORTHY SIR,
_The many favours, and courtesies, that I have Received from you, and your much Honor'd Father, have put such an obligation upon me, as I have bin long cogitateing how to expresse myselfe by the requitall of some part of them; Now this Play having diverse yeeres since beene thrust into the world to seeke its owne entertainment, without so much as an epistle, or under the Shelter of any generous spirit, is now almost become worne out of memory: and comming to be press'd to the publique view againe, it having none to speake for it (the Author being dead) I am bold to recommend the same to your Worships protection, I know your studies are more propense to more serious subjects, yet vouchsafe, I beseech you, to recreate your selfe with this at some vacant time when your leasure will permit you to peruse it, and daigne mee to bee_,
Your Worships bounden Servant,
HVGH PERRY.
SIR GYLES GOOSECAPPE, Knight,
A Comedy presented by the Chil. of the Chappell.
AT LONDON: Printed by Iohn Windet, for Edward Blunt. 1606.
Eugenia, A widowe and a Noble Ladie. Hippolyta, | Penelope, | Ladie-virgines, and Companions to Eugenia. Wynnifred, gentlewoman to Eugenia. Monford, A Noble Man, uncle to Eugenia. Clarence, Gentleman, friend to Monf. Fowlweather, A french affected Travayler, and a Captaine. Sir Gyles Goosecap, a foolish Knight. Sir Cuthbert Rudsbie, a blunt Knight. Sir Clement Kingcob, a Knight, Lord Tales. Lord Furnifall. Bullaker, a french Page. Iack, | Will, | Pages.
Sir Gyles Goosecappe, Knight.
Actvs Primvs.
SCAENA PRIMA.
Enter Bullaker with a Torche.
Bullaker. This is the Countesse Eugenias house, I thinke. I can never hit of theis same English City howses, tho I were borne here: if I were in any City in Fraunce, I could find any house there at midnight.
Enter Iack, and Will.
Iack. Theis two strange hungry Knights (Will) make the leanest trenchers that ever I waited on.
Will. A plague on them Iack; they leave us no fees at all, for our attendance. I thinke they use to set their bones in silver they pick them so cleane.—See, see, see, Iack, whats that.
Iack. A my word (Will) tis the great Baboone, that was to be seen in Southwarke.
Will. Is this he? Gods my life what beastes were we, that we wood not see him all this while, never trust me if he looke not somewhat like a man: see how pretely he holds the torche in one of his forefeete: wheres his keeper trowe, is he broke loose?
Iack. Hast ever an Apple about thee (Will)? Weele take him up; sure, we shall get a monstrous deale of mony with him.
Will. That we shall yfath, boy! and looke thou here, heres a red cheeckt apple to take him up with.
Ia. Excellent fit a my credit; lets lay downe our provant, and to him.
Bul. Ile let them alone a while.
Ia. Give me the apple to take up Iack, because my name is Iack.
Will. Hold thee, Iack, take it.
Ia. Come, Iack, come, Iack, come, Iack.
Bul. I will come to you sir, Ile Iack ye a my word, Ile Iack ye.
Will. Gods me he speakes, Iack. O pray pardon us, Sir.
Bul. Out, ye mopede monckies, can yee not knowe a man from a Marmasett, in theis Frenchified dayes of ours? nay, ile Iackefie you a little better yet.
Both. Nay good Sir, good Sir, pardon us.
Bul. Pardon us! out ye home-bred peasants, plain English, pardon us? if you had parled, & not spoken, but said Pardonne moy, I wood have pardon'd you, but since you speake and not parley, I will cudgell ye better yet.
Ambo. O pardonne moy, mounsieur.
Bul. Bien je vous remercy; thers pardonne four vous, sir, now.
Will. Why I thanke ye for it, Sir; you seeme to bee a Squire of our order Sir.
Ia. Whose page might you be Sir.
Bul. I am now the great French Travalers page.
Will. Or rather the French Travalers great page, Sir; on, on.
Bul. Hight Captaine Fowleweather, alias Commendations; whose valours within here at super with the Countes Eugenia, whose propper eaters I take you two to be.
Will. You mistake us not Sir.
Ia. This Captaine Fowleweather, alias Commendations—
Will. Is the Gallant that will needs be a sutor to our Countes.
Bul.[1] Faith, and if Fouleweather be a welcome suter to a faire Lady, has good lucke.
Ia. O Sir, beware of one that can showre into the lapps of Ladies. Captaine Fowleweather? why hees a Captinado, or Captaine of Captaines, and will lie in their joyntes that give him cause to worke uppon them so heauylie, that he will make their hartes ake I warrant him. Captaine Fowleweather? why he will make the cold stones sweate for feare of him, a day or two before he come at them. Captaine Fowleweather? why he does so dominere, and raigne over women.
Will. A plague of Captaine Fowleweather, I remember him now Iack, and know him to be a dull moist-braind Asse.
Ia. A Southerne man I thinke.
Will. As fearefull as a Haire, and will lye like a Lapwing,[2] and I know how he came to be a Captain, and to have his Surname of Commendations.
Ia. How I preethee Will?
Will. Why Sir he served the great Lady Kingcob and was yeoman of her wardroppe, & because a cood brush up her silkes lustely, she thought he would curry the enemies coates as soundly, and so by her commendations, he was made Captaine in the lowe Countries.
Ia. Then being made Captaine onely by his Ladies commendations, without any worth also of his owne, he was ever after surnamd Captaine Commendations?
Will. Right.
Bul. I, Sir right, but if he had not said right, my Captaine should have taken no wrong at his handes, nor yours neyther, I can tell ye.
Ia. What are those two Knights names, that are thy Captaines Comrades, and within at Supper with our Lady?
Bul. One of their names Sir, is, Sir Gyles Goosecappe, the others Sir Cutt Rudseby.
Will. Sir Gyles Goosecappe? what's he? a gentleman?
Bul. I, that he is, at least if he be not a noble man; and his chiefe house is in Essex.
Ia. In Essex? did not his Auncestors come out of London.
Bul. Yes that they did Sir, the best Gosecappes in England, come out of London I assure you.
Will. I, but, Sir, these must come into it before they come out ont I hope; but what countriman is Sir Cutt Rudesby?
Bul. A Northern man, or a Westernman I take him, but my Captaine is the Emphaticall man; and by that pretty word Emphaticall you shall partly know him: for tis a very forcible word in troth, and yet he forces it too much by his favour; mary no more then he does all the rest of his wordes; with whose multiplicity often times he travailes himselfe out of all good company.
Iack. Like enough; he travaild for nothing else.
Will. But what qualities haunt Sir Gyles Goosecappe now Sir.
Bul. Sir Gyles Goosecap has always a deathes head (as it were) in his mouth, for his onely one reason for everything is, because we are all mortall; and therefore he is generally cald the mortall Knight; then hath he another pretty phrase too, and that is, he will "tickle the vanity ant" still in everything; and this is your Summa totalis of both their virtues.
Ia. Tis enough, tis enough, as long as they have land enough, but now muster your third person afore us I beseech you.
Bul. The third person and second Knight, blunt Sir Cutt Rudesby, is indeed blunt at a sharpe wit, and sharpe at a blunt wit; a good bustling Gallant, talkes well at Rovers; he is two parts souldier; as slovenlie as a Switzer, and somewhat like one in face too; for he weares a bush beard, will dead a Cannan shot better then a wool-packe: he will come into the presence like yor Frenchman in foule bootes, and dares eat Garlike as a preparative to his Courtship. You shall know more of him hereafter; but, good wags, let me winne you now for the Geographicall parts of your Ladies in requitall.
Will. That you shall Sir, and the Hydrographicall too and you will; first my Lady the widowe, and Countes Eugenia, is in earnest, a most worthy Lady, and indeede can doe more than a thousand other Ladies can doe I can tell you.
Bul. What's that I pray thee?
Ia. Mary Sir, he meanes she can doe more than sleepe, and eate, and drinke; and play at noddy[3], and helpe to make hir selfe ready[4].
Bul. Can she so?
Will. She is the best scholler of any woman but one[5] in England; she is wise and vertuous.
Ia. Nay she has one strange quality for a woman besides, tho these be strange enough that he has rekoned.
Bul. For Gods sake whats that?
Ia. She can love reasonable constantly, for she loved her husband only, almost a whole yeere together.
Bul. Thats strange indeed, but what is your faire Lady Sir?
Ia. My Lady Sir, the Lady Hippolita—
Will. That is as chast as ever was Hippolitus.
Ia. (True, my prety Parenthesis) is halfe a maid, halfe a wife, and halfe a widdow.
Bul. Strange tale to tell; how canst thou make this good, my good Assumpsit.
Ia. Thus Sir: she was betroathed to a gallant young gentleman that loude hir with such passion, and admiration that he never thought he could be so blessed as to enjoy her in full marriage, till the minister was marrying them; and even then when he was saying I Charles take thee Hippolita with extreame joy, he began to looke pale, then going forwards saying, to my wedded wife, he lookt paler, and, then pronouncing, for richer for poorer as long as we both shall live, he lookt extreame pale. Now, sir, when she comes to speake her parte, and said, I Hippolyta take thee Charles, he began to faint for joy, then saying to my wedded husband, he began to sinke, but then going forth too, for better for worse, he could stand no longer, but with very conceit, it seemd, that she whom he tendred as the best of all things, should pronounce the worst, and for his sake too, he suncke down right, and died sodenly: And thus being halfe married, and her halfe husband wholy dead, I hope I may with discretion affirme her, halfe a maide, halfe a wife, and halfe a widdowe: do ye conceive me Sir?
Bul. O Lord Sir, I devoure you quicke; and now Sir I beseech you open unto me your tother Lady, what is shee?
Will. Ile answere for her, because I know her Ladiship to be a perfect maide indeed.
Bul. How canst thou know that?
Will. Passing perfectly I warrant ye.
Ia. By measuring her necke twice, and trying if it will come about hir forehead, and slip over her nose?
Will. No Sir no, by a rule that will not slip so I warrant you, which for her honours sake I will let slip unto you. Gods so Iack, I thinke they have supt.
Ia. Bir Lady we have waited well the while.
Will. Well though they have lost their attendance, let not us lose our supper, Iack.
Ia. I doe not meane it; come Sir you shall goe in, and drinke with us yfaith.
Bul. Pardonne moy, mounsieur.
both. No pardoning in truth Sir.
Bul. Ie vous remercie de bon Ceur.
[Exeunt.