So little is known respecting the history of the following tract, that it is rather from an unwillingness to depart from the usual custom of affixing introductions to our reprints, than from any expectation of satisfying the slightest curiosity, that a few lines are here prefixed. The interlude of "The Disobedient Child" was written about the middle of the sixteenth century, by Thomas Ingelend, who is described in the early printed copy as "late student in Cambridge," and his fame seems to rest entirely on that production, for he is not to be traced in any other early literary record.[292] It has been supposed by some writers, from a few indistinct allusions in the play to Catholic customs, that it was composed in the reign of Henry VIII.; but if this be the case, the notice of Queen Elizabeth, introduced towards the close of the drama, must be an interpolation, a supposition not unlikely to be correct, for the audience are elsewhere reminded to "serve the king." The printed edition by Colwell is without date, but it was published about the year 1560. Two copies of this work which I have collated differ in some slight particulars from each other, but there is not sufficient reason for thinking that there were two editions, for it was formerly a very common practice to correct and alter the press whilst the impression was being taken.[293]
[It is observable that the present interlude marks a considerable advance, in point of literary merit, on those which precede it in this collection. The author was evidently a man of taste and judgment, and many passages might be pointed out which possess no mean share of picturesqueness, elegance, and dramatic propriety. Contrary to the usual practice, in old as well as modern pieces, "The Disobedient Child" concludes unhappily, though without any attempt at a highly wrought tragical catastrophe; the Rich man persists in his unrelenting conduct, and we are left to imagine that his son returns to live and die in misery with his termagant wife.]
THE DISOBEDIENT CHILD.[294]
THE PROLOGUE.
THE PROLOGUE SPEAKER.
Now, forasmuch as in these latter days,
Throughout the whole world in every land,
Vice doth encrease, and virtue decays,
Iniquity having the upper hand;
We therefore intend, good gentle audience,
A pretty short interlude to play at this present:
Desiring your leave and quiet silence
To show the same, as is meet and expedient.[295]
The sum whereof, matter and argument,
In two or three verses briefly to declare,
Since that it is for an honest intent,
I will somewhat bestow my care.
In the city of London there was a rich man
Who, loving his son most tenderly,
Moved him earnestly now and then,
That he would give his mind to study,
Saying that by knowledge, science and learning,
Is at the last gotten a pleasant life,
But through the want and lack of this thing
Is purchased poverty, sorrow and strife.
His son, notwithstanding this gentle monition,
As one that was clean devoid of grace,
Did turn to a mock and open derision
Most wickedly with an unshamefast[296] face;
Insomuch that, contrary to his father's will,
Unto a young woman he did consent,
Whereby of lust he might have his fill,
And married the same incontinent.[297]
Not long after that, the child began
To feel his wife's great frowardness,
And called himself unhappy man,
Oppressed with pains and heaviness:
Who, before that time, did live blessedly,
Whilst he was under his father's wing;
But now, being wedded, mourning and misery
Did him torment without ending.
But now it is time for me to be going,
And hence to depart for a certain space,
For I do hear the Rich Man coming
With the wanton boy into this place.
[Here the Prologue Speaker goeth out, and in
cometh the Rich Man and his son.
SON. Father, I beseech you, father, show me the way,
What thing I were best to take in hand,
Whereby this short life so spend I may,
That all grief and trouble I might withstand.
FATHER. What is the meaning, my child, I thee pray,
This question to demand of me?
For that thing to do I am glad alway,
Which should not be grievous to thee.
SON. Marry, but therefore of you counsel I take,
Seeing now my childhood I am clean past,
That unto me ye plainly do make
What to a young man is best for to taste.