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Although our author wrote several plays, we are not aware that an account has been given of any of them, whilst his prose works have been sought for with great care. The first play we shall notice is The honorable historie of frier Bacon and frier Bongay. It is founded on the popular subject of the magic skill of friar Bacon. The incidents are as follow :-Prince Edward (afterwards Edward the first) having, whilst hunting in Suffolk, become enamoured of Margaret, the daughter of one of his father's keepers, celebrated through the county for her beauty, sends Lacy, Earl of Lincoln, in the disguise of a farmer, to court her for him.-Lacy himself falls in love with the maid, and she, at the same time, regards him with a favorable eye. Meanwhile, the prince, doubtful of the success of Lacy's mission, resorts to the famous friar Bacon, at Oxford, for advice and assistance. The friar, by the power of his art, makes the Earl and Margaret palpable to the vision of the prince, who beholds them at the moment they are about to be united by friar Bongay; who, spell-bound by Bacon, suddenly becomes speechless, and is whisked off to Oxford by one of Bacon's spirits. The prince hastens to Fresingfield, to revenge himself on his faithless courtier, to whom, however, he becomes reconciled, and consents to his marriage with Margaret. The king having, also, arrived at Oxford with the King of Castile, and Elinor his daughter, Lacy writes to the maid of Fresingfield, feigning a forced marriage with a Spanish lady, to try her affection; a circumstance which Margaret takes so much to heart, that she has determined to retire to a convent and take the veil, when Lacy arrives and persuades her not to relinquish the love of man entirely for that of heaven.—The royal visitors are entertained with an exhibition of the surpassing influence of friar Bacon over the world of spirits, and depart for Windsor, where the prince is united to the Spanish princess, and the Lincoln Earl to Margaret on the same day.

The supernatural parts of this play are vastly inferior in power to the Doctor Faustus of his friend Marlowe. It excites no terror, but has rather the appearance of the hocus pocus of a common conjuror. With some extravagance, it possesses a few touches of feeling and occasional beauty of imagery. It appears from the preface to Perimedes, the Blacksmith, that his blank verse had been censured, because he could not make it “jet upon the stage in tragicall buskins, every word filling the mouth like the faburden of Bo-Bell.” But, though generally inferior to both Peele and Marlowe, it is not deficient in harmony. Prince Edward describes Margaret in the following terms :

Edward. I tell thee, Lacie, that her sparkling eyes Do lighten forth sweet Love's alluring fire :

And in her tresses she doth fold the looks
Of such as gaze upon her golden haire;
Her bashfull white, mixt with the morning's red,
Luna doath boast upon her lovely cheekes;
Her front is beautie's table, where she paints
The glories of her gorgious, excellence :
Her teeth are shelves of pretious Margarites,
Richly enclos'd with ruddie curroll cleues.
Tush, Lacie, she is beautie's overmatch,
If thou survaist her curious imagerie.”

The following scene discloses an interesting situation.Greene had found the right vein, although he does not go very deep into it.

Edward. I tell thee, Peggie, I will have thy love,
Edward or none shall conquer Margret.
In frigats bottom'd with rich Sethin planks,
Topt with the loftie firs of Libanon,
Stem'd and incast with burnisht ivorie,
And overlaid with plates of Persian wealth,
Like Thetis shalt thou wanton on the waves
And draw the dolphins to thy lovely eyes,
To daunce lavoltas in the purple streames.
Sirens with harpes and silver psalteries
Shall waight with musicke at thy frigat's stem,
And entertaine fair Margret with her laies ;
England and England's wealth shall wait on thee,
Brittaine shall bend unto her princes' love,
And doe due homage to thine excellence, ,
If thou wilt be but Edward's Margret.

Margret. Pardon, my lord, if Jove's great roialtie
Sent me such presents as to Danaë,
If Phæbus, tied in Latona's webs,
Came courting from the beautie of his lodge,
The dulcet tunes of frolicke Mercurie,
Not all the wealth heaven's treasurie affords
Should make me leave lord Lacie or his love.

Edw. I have learn’d at Oxford then this point of schooles,
Abbata causa, tollitur effectus.
Lacie the cause that Margret cannot love,
Nor fix her liking on the English prince!
Take him away, and then the effects will faile.
Villaine ! prepare thyselfe, for I will bathe
My poinard in the bosum of an earle.

Lacie. Rather than live and misse fair Margret's love,

Prince Edward, stop not at the fatall doome,
But stabb it home, end both my loves and life.

Marg. Brave Prince of Wales, honour'd for royal deeds,
'Twere sinne to staine fair Venus' courts with blood,
Love's conquest ends, my lord, in courtesie;
Spare Lacie, gentle Edward, let me die.
For so both you and he doe cease your loves.

Edw. Lacie shall die as traitor to his lord.
Lacie. I have deserved it; Edward, act it well.
Marg. What hopes the prince to gaine by Lacie's death?
Edw. To end the loves 'twixt him and Margret.

Marg. Why, thinks king Henrie's sonne that Margret's love
Hangs in the uncertaine ballance of proud time,
That death shall make a discord of our thoughts;
No, stab the earle, and, fore the morning sun
Shall vaunt him thrice over the loftie east,
Margret will meet her Lacie in the heavens.

Lacie. If ought betides to lovely Margret,
That wrongs or wrings her honour from content,
Europe's rich wealth nor England's monarchie
Should not allure Lacie to overlive;
Then, Edward, short my life and end her love.

Marg. Rid me, and keepe a friend worthe many loves.
Lacie. Nay, Edward, keepe a love worthe many friends.

Marg. And, if thy mind be such as fame hath blazde,
Then, princely Edward, let us both abide
The fatal resolution of thy rage;
Banish thou fancie and imbrace revenge, .
And in one toombe knit both our carkases,
Whose hearts were linked in one perfect love.

Edw. Edward, art thou that famous prince of Wales
Who, at Damasco, beat the Sarasens,
And brought'st home triumph on thy launce's point?
And shall thy plumes be pul'd by Venus down?
Is it princely to dissever lovers' leagues,
To part such friends as glorie in their loves ?
Leave, Ned, and make a vertue of this fault,
And further Peg and Lacie in their loves;
So, in subduing fancie's passion,
Conquering thyselfe, thou getst the richest spoile.
Lacie, rise up; fair Peggie, heere's my hand,
The Prince of Wales hath conquered all his thoughts,
And all his loves he yeelds unto the earle :
Lacie, enjoy the maid of Fresingfield,
Make her thy Lincolne countesse at the church;

And Ned, as he is true Plantagenet,
Will give her to thee franckly for thy wife.

Lacie. Humbly I take her of my soveraigne,
As if that Edward gave me England's right,
And richt me with the Albion diadem.

Marg: And doth the English prince mean true ?
Will he vouchsafe to cease his former loves,
And yeeld the title of a countrie maid
Unto Lord Lacie ?

Edw. I will, faire Peggie, as I am true lord.

Marg. Then, lordly sir, whose conquest is as great,
In conquering love, as Cæsar's victories,
Margret, as milde and humble in her thoughts
As was Aspasia unto Cirus' selfe,
Yeelds thanks, and next lord Lacie doth inshrine
Edward, the second secret in her heart.”

Bacon, worn out with watching the brazen head which he had framed, enjoins his schollar to supply his place, and awaken him at the propitious moment of its speaking.

Bacon. Miles, thou knowest that I have dived into hell,
And sought the darkest pallaces of fiendes,
That with my magic spels great Belcephon
Hath left his lodge and kneeled at my cell ;
The rafters of the earth rent from the poles,
And three-form'd Luna hid her silver looks,
Trembling upon her concave contenent
When Bacon red upon his magick booke;
With seven yeares' tossing nigromanticke charmes,
Poring upon darke Hecat's principles,
I have fram'd out a monstrous head of brasse,
That, by the inchanting forces of the devil,
Shall tell out strange and uncoth aphorismes,
And girt faire England with a wall of brasse.
Bongay and I have watcht these threescore dayes,
And now our vitall spirites crave some rest:
If Argus liv'd and had his hundred eyes,
He could not overwatch Phobeter's night.
Now, Miles, in thee rests Frier Bacon's weale-
The honour and renown of all his life,
Hangs in the watching of this brazen-head :
Therefore, I charge thee, by the immortall God
That holds the soules of men within his fist,
This night thou watch ; for ere the morning star
Sends out his glorious glister on the north,
The head will speake; then, Miles, upon thy life

Wake me, for then by magicke art I'le worke
To end my seven yeares' task with excellence :
If but a winke but shut thy watchfull eye,

Then, farewell Bacon's glory and his fame.”

The head at length finds a tongue — it speaks,“ time is”- Miles thinks this too insignificant a speech for which to disturb his master ;-again it is heard, “ time was”- Miles waits for something more ;-the head exclaims, "time's past”a horrible noise succeeds, the head is dashed to pieces, and the friar awakes to see his hopes of fame crumbled in the dust, with the object of his seven years'labour.-In consequence of this failure, and the tragical effect of one of his magical representations, the friar becomes penitent, and abandons the black art.

Margaret, when about to retire to a nunnery, thus tenderly bids adieu to her young hopes, with “ sweet reluctant amorous delay.”

Marg. Now, farewell, world, the engin of all woe!
Farewell to friends and father,—welcome Christ!
Adew to daintie robes ; this base attire
Better befits an humble minde to God,
Than all the shew of rich abilliments.
Love, oh! love, and with fond love, farewell !
Sweet Lacie, whom I loved once so deare,
Ever be well, but never in my thoughts,
Least I offend to thinke on Lacie's love:
But even to that as to the rest, farewell.”

The play of A Looking Glasse for London was written by Thomas Lodge, in conjunction with "Greene. The subject is the abominations of Nineveh, which, by means of a monologue, spoken by the prophet “ Oseas” in the nature of a chorus, is made applicable to London. On this foundation, the writers have framed a sort of drama, which they have peopled with divers insane persons. Indeed, we never met with any thing more outrageously extravagant than the greater part of it. The style, which is abundantly metaphorical, is in the most vile and perverted taste. The comic parts are infinitely the best, and are by no means contemptible.

The following is the only sober piece of blank verse we could find, which is not without a touch of feeling. A son having, on his elevation to a place of dignity, disowned his parents, the mother appeals to Rasni, the king.

Samia. O, politicke in sinne and wickednesse,
Too impudent for to delude thy prince ;
Oh, Rasni, this same wombe brought him forth,

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