 | The Pilgrimage to Parnassus |  |
Act II
Enter Madido alone reading Horace epistles.Madido
O sweet Horace, if thou were aliue I woulde bestowe
a cupp of sacke on thee for theise liquid verses; theise are
not drie rimes like Catos Si deus est animus, but the true
moist issue of a poeticall soule. O if the tapsters and drawers
knewe what thou sayest in the com̄endac̄on of takinge of
liquoure, they would score vp thy prayses vpon euerie But
the vnlearned bestowe some of my English poetrie vppon
thy Latin rimes, that this Romane tonge maie noe longer
out face our poore englishe skinkers. Ile onlie rouse vp my
muse out of her den with this liquid sacrifice, and then haue
amongste youe, poetes and rimers. (He drinks)
The com̄on
people will now thinke I did drincke, and did nothinge but
conferr with the ghostes of Homer, Ennius, Virgill, & they
rest that dwell in this watterie region. (He reads Horaces verses againe)
Marke, marke, here springs a poeticall partridge.
Zouns, I want a worde miserablely, I muste looke
for another worde in my dictionarie: I shall noe sooner open
this pinte pott, but the worde like a knaue tapster will crie
anon anon Sr. (He drinks)
Ey marye Sr, nowe I am fitt to
write a book: woulde anie leaden Mydas, anie mossie patron
haue his asses ears deified, let him but come, and giue mee
some prettie sprinkling to mantaine the expences of my
throate, and Ile dropp out suche an Encomiū on him, that
shall im̄ortalize him as longe as there is euer a booke binder
in Englande. But I had forgotten my frind Horace: (He
take not in snuffe (my prettie verses) if I turne
you out of youre Romane coate into an Englishe gaberdine.
Enter Philomusus and Studioso.
Philomusus
In faith Madido thy poetrie is good,
Some gallant Genius doth possess thy corps.
Studioso
I thinke a furie rauisheth thy braine,
Thou art in such a sweet phantasticke vaine.
But tell mee, shall wee haue thy companie
Th[o]roughe this craggie ile, this harsh rough waye?
Wilt thoue be pilgrime to Parnassus hill?
Madido
I had rather be a horse to grinde in mill.
Zouns, I trauell to Parnassus? I tell thee its not a Pilgrimage
for good wites; let slowe brainde Athenians trauel thither,
those drie sober youths, which can away to reede dull lines,
fustie Philosophers, dustie Logicians: Ile turne home, and
write that that others shall reade, posteritie shall make
them large note books out of my writings. Naye there is
another thinge, that makes mee out of loue with this iorney,
there is scarce a good tauerne or ale house betwixte this and
Parnassus; why, a poeticall spirit muste needes starue.
Philomusus
Naye, when thou comes to high Parnassus hill
Studioso
There Madido may quaff the poetes boule
And satisfie his thristie dryed soule.
Madido
Nay, if I drinke of that pudled water of Hellicon in
the companie of leane lenton shadowes, let mee for a
punishement conuerse with single beare soe longe as I liue.
This Parnassus and Hellicon are but the fables of the
poetes, there is noe true Parnassus but the third lofte in a
wine tauerne, noe true Hellicon but a cup of browne
bastard. Will youe trauell quicklie to Parnassus, doe but
carie youre drie feet into some drie tauerne, and straight the
drawer will bid youe goe into the Halfe Moone, or the Rose,
that is, into Parnassus; then call for a cup of pure Hellicon,
& he will bringe youe a cup of pure hypocrise, that will
make youe speake leapinge lines and dauncinge periodes.
Why, giue mee but a quart of burnt sacke by mee, and if I
doe not with a pennie worth of candles make a better poeme
then Kinsaders Satyrs, Lodges fig for Momus, Bastardes
Epigrams, Leichfildes trimming of Nash, Ile giue my
gen[i]us of xijd a quart will indite manie liuelie lines in an
houre, whils an ould drousie Academicke, an old Stigmaticke,
an ould sober Dromeder toiles a whole month &
often scratcheth his wittes head for the bringinge of one
miserable Period into the worlde. If therfore youe be
good felowes, or wise felowes, trauell noe farther in the
craggie way to the fained Parnassus, returne whome with
mee, & wee will hire our studies in a tauerne, & ere longe
not a poste in Pauls church yarde but shall be acquainted
with our writings.
Nay then I see thy wit in drincke is drounde,
Wine doth the beste parte of thy soule confounde.
Studioso
Let Parnass be a fond Phantasticke place,
Yet to Parnassus Ile hould on my pace.
But tell mee Madido, how camest thou to this Ile?
Madido
Well Ile tell youe, and then see if the phisicke of good
counsel will worke vpon your bodies. I tooke shippinge at
came to As in præsenti, but with great danger, for there are
certaine people in this cuntrie caled schoolmaisters that
take passingers & sit all day whippinge pence out of there
tayls; these men tooke mee prisoner, & put to death at leaste
three hundred rodes vpon my backe. Hence traueled I into
the land of Sintaxis, a land full of Ioyners, and from thenc
came I to Prosodia, a litell Iland, where are men of 6 feete
longe, which were neuer mentioned in Sr Iohn Mandefildes
cronicle. Hence did I set vp my vnluckie feet in this Ile
Dialectica, where I can see nothinge but Idees and phantasmes.
As soone as I came hither I began to reade Ramus
his mapp, Dialectica est, &c.; then the slouenlie knaue presented
mee with such an vnsauorie worde that I dare not
name it, vnless I had some frankensence readie to perfume
youre noses with after. Vpon this I threw away the mapp in
woulde suffer my headless feete to take such a tedious
iourney.
Philomusus
The harder and the craggier is the waye,
The ioye will be more full another day.
Ofte pleasure got with paine wee dearlie deeme,
Thinges dearlie boughte are had in great esteeme.
Madido
Come on, come on, Tullies' Sentences. Leaue youre
pulinge of prouerbs and hearken to him that knowes whats
good for youe: if you haue anie care of youre eyes, blinde
them not with goinge to Parnassus; if you loue youre feete,
blister them not in this craggie waie. Staie with mee, and
one pinte of wine shall inspire youe with more witt than all
they nine muses. Come on, Ile leade youe to a merie
companie.
Studioso
Fie Philomusus, gin thy loitringe feet
To faint and tire in this soe faire a waie?
Eeach marchant for a base inglorious prize
Fears not with ship to plowe the Ocean;
To Parnass hast with swallowe winged speede?
| The Pilgrimage to Parnassus | |