  TANCRED AND GISMUNDA.[17] ACT I., SCENE 1. ACT II, SCENE 1. GISMUNDA AND LUCRECE. THE MOST LAMENTABLE AND TRUE TRAGEDIES OF MARIUS AND SYLLA.[100] Title: A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VII (4th edition) Author: Various Language: English Chatacter set encoding: ISO-8859-1 Fourth Edition Originally published by Robert Dodsley in the Year 1744. Now first chronologically arranged, revised and enlarged with the Notes of all the Commentators, and new Notes. 1876. CONTENTS:Tancred And Gismunda EDITIONThe Tragedie of Tancred and Gismund. Compiled by the Gentlemen of the Inner Temple, and by them presented before her Maiestie. Newly reuiued and polished according to the decorum of these daies. By R.W. London, Printed by Thomas Scarlet, and are to be solde by R. Robinson, 1591, 4to. [Some copies are dated 1592; but there was only a single edition. Of the original text, as written in 1568, there is no printed copy; but MSS. of it are in MS. Lansdowne 786, and Hargrave MS. 205, neither of which appears to present any evidence of identity with the copy mentioned by Isaac Reed below as then in private hands. Both these MSS. have now been collated with the text of 1591, and the conclusion must be, that Wilmot, though he unquestionably revived, did not do so much, as he might wish to have it inferred, in polishing the play. The production was formed on a classical model, and bears marks of resemblance in tone and style to the "Jocasta" of Euripides, as paraphrased by Gascoigne in 1566. The Lansdowne MS. of "Tancred and Gismunda" was written, about 1568-70, while the Hargrave is much more modern.] INTRODUCTION.It appears from William Webbe's Epistle prefixed to this piece, that after its first exhibition it was laid aside, and at some distance of time was new-written by R. Wilmot. The reader, therefore, may not be displeased with a specimen of it in its original dress. It is here given from the fragment of an ancient MS. taken out of a chest of papers formerly belonging to Mr Powell, father-in-law to the author of "Paradise Lost," at Forest Hill, about four miles from Oxford, where in all probability some curiosities of the same kind may remain, the contents of these chests (for I think there are more than one) having never yet been properly examined. The following extract is from the conclusion of the piece.—Reed. [Reed's extract has been collated with the two MSS. before-mentioned; where the Powell MS. may now be, the editor cannot say. The differences, on the whole, are not material; but the Lansdowne MS. 786 has supplied a few superior readings and corrections.] But in thy brest if eny spark remaine TANCRED. O me alas, nowe do the cruell paines SCENE III.TANCRED cometh out of GISMOND'S Chamber. TANCRED. O dolorous happe, ruthefull and all of woe FINIS.EPILOGUS. If now perhappes ye either loke to see FINIS.The Tragedie of Gismonde of Salerne. Such is a specimen of the play as it was originally acted before Queen Elizabeth, at the Inner Temple, in the year 1568. It was the production of five gentlemen, who were probably students of that society; and by one of them, Robert Wilmot, afterwards much altered and published in the year 1591.[1] [Wilmot had meanwhile become rector of North Okenham, in Essex];[2] and in his Dedication to the Societies of the Inner and Middle Temples, he speaks of the censure which might be cast upon him from the indecorum of publishing a dramatic work arising from his calling. When he died, or whether he left any other works, are points equally uncertain. "Nearly a century after the date of that play," observes Lamb, in his 'Extracts from the Garrick Plays,' "Dryden produced his admirable version of the same story from Boccaccio. The speech here extracted (the scene between the messengers and Gismunda) may be compared with the corresponding passage in the 'Sigismunda and Guiscardo' with no disadvantage to the older performance. It is quite as weighty, as pointed, and as passionate." To the Right Worshipful and Virtuous Ladies, the Lady MARY PETER and the Lady ANNE GRAY, long health of body, with quiet of mind, in the favour of God and men for ever. It is most certain (right virtuous and worshipful) that of all human learning, poetry (how contemptible soever it is in these days) is the most ancient; and, in poetry, there is no argument of more antiquity and elegancy than is the matter of love; for it seems to be as old as the world, and to bear date from the first time that man and woman was: therefore in this, as in the finest metal, the freshest wits have in all ages shown their best workmanship. So amongst others these gentlemen, which with what sweetness of voice and liveliness of action they then expressed it, they which were of her Majesty's right Honourable maidens can testify. Which being a discourse of two lovers, perhaps it may seem a thing neither fit to be offered unto your ladyships, nor worthy me to busy myself withal: yet can I tell you, madames, it differeth so far from the ordinary amorous discourses of our days, as the manners of our time do from the modesty and innocency of that age. And now for that weary winter is come upon us, which bringeth with him drooping days and tedious nights, if it be true, that the motions of our minds follow the temperature of the air wherein we live, then I think the perusing of some mournful matter, tending to the view of a notable example, will refresh your wits in a gloomy day, and ease your weariness of the louring night. Which if it please you, may serve ye also for a solemn revel against this festival time, for Gismund's bloody shadow, with a little cost, may be entreated in her self-like person to speak to ye. Having therefore a desire to be known to your W., I devised this way with myself to procure the same, persuading myself, there is nothing more welcome to your wisdoms than the knowledge of wise, grave, and worthy matters, tending to the good instructions of youths, of whom you are mothers. In this respect, therefore, I shall humbly desire ye to bestow a favourable countenance upon this little labour, which when ye have graced it withal, I must and will acknowledge myself greatly indebted unto your ladyships in this behalf: neither shall I amongst the rest, that admire your rare virtues (which are not a few in Essex), cease to commend this undeserved gentleness. Thus desiring the king of heaven to increase his graces in ye both, granting that your ends may be as honourable as your lives are virtuous, I leave with a vain babble of many needless words to trouble you longer. Your Worships' most dutiful TO HIS FRIEND R.W.Master R.W., look not now for the terms of an intreater: I will beg no longer; and for your promises, I will refuse them as bad payment: neither can I be satisfied with anything but a peremptory performance of an old intention of yours, the publishing I mean of those waste papers (as it pleaseth you to call them, but, as I esteem them, a most exquisite invention) of Gismund's tragedy. Think not to shift me off with longer delays, nor allege more excuses to get further respite, lest I arrest you with my actum est, and commence such a suit of unkindness against you, as when the case shall be scann'd before the judges of courtesy, the court will cry out of your immoderate modesty. And thus much I tell you before: you shall not be able to wage against me in the charges growing upon this action, especially if the worshipful company of the Inner-Temple gentlemen patronise my cause, as undoubtedly they will, yea, and rather plead partially for me, than let my cause miscarry, because themselves are parties. The tragedy was by them most pithily framed, and no less curiously acted in view of her Majesty, by whom it was then as princely accepted, as of the whole honourable audience notably applauded: yea, and of all men generally desired, as a work, either in stateliness of show, depth of conceit, or true ornaments of poetical art, inferior to none of the best in that kind: no, were the Roman Seneca the censurer. The brave youths that then (to their high praises) so feelingly performed the same in action, did shortly after lay up the book unregarded, or perhaps let it run abroad (as many parents do their children once past dandling) not respecting so much what hard fortune might befall it being out of their fingers, as how their heroical wits might again be quickly conceived have been ever since wonderful fertile. But this orphan of theirs (for he wand'reth as it were fatherless) hath notwithstanding, by the rare and beautiful perfections appearing in him, hitherto never wanted great favourers and loving preservers. Among whom I cannot sufficiently commend your charitable zeal and scholarly compassion towards him, that have not only rescued and defended him from the devouring jaws of oblivion, but vouchsafed also to apparel him in a new suit at your own charges, wherein he may again more boldly come abroad, and by your permission return to his old parents, clothed perhaps not in richer or more costly furniture than it went from them, but in handsomeness and fashion more answerable to these times, wherein fashions are so often altered. Let one word suffice for your encouragement herein; namely, that your commendable pains in disrobing him of his antique curiosity, and adorning him with the approved guise of our stateliest English terms (not diminishing, but more augmenting his artificial colours of absolute poesy, derived from his first parents) cannot but be grateful to most men's appetites, who upon our experience we know highly to esteem such lofty measures of sententiously composed tragedies. How much you shall make me and the rest of your private friends beholden to you, I list not to discourse: and therefore grounding upon these alleged reasons; that the suppressing of this tragedy, so worthy for the press, were no other thing than wilfully to defraud yourself of an universal thank, your friends of their expectations, and sweet Gismund of a famous eternity, I will cease to doubt of any other pretence to cloak your bashfulness, hoping to read it in print (which lately lay neglected amongst your papers) at our next appointed meeting. I bid you heartily farewell. From Pyrgo in Essex, August the eighth, 1591. Tuus fide & facultate GUIL. WEBBE.[3] To the Worshipful and Learned Society, the GENTLEMEN STUDENTS of Ye may perceive (right Worshipful) in perusing the former epistle sent to me, how sore I am beset with the importunities of my friends to publish this pamphlet: truly I am and have been (if there be in me any soundness of judgment) of this opinion, that whatsoever is committed to the press is commended to eternity, and it shall stand a lively witness with our conscience, to our comfort or confusion, in the reckoning of that great day. Advisedly, therefore, was that proverb used of our elder philosophers, Manum a tabula: withhold thy hand from the paper, and thy papers from the print or light of the world: for a lewd word escaped is irrevocable, but a bad or base discourse published in print is intolerable. Hereupon I have endured some conflicts between reason and judgment, whether it were convenient for the commonwealth, with the indecorum of my calling (as some think it) that the memory of Tancred's tragedy should be again by my means revived, which the oftener I read over, and the more I considered thereon, the sooner I was won to consent thereunto: calling to mind that neither the thrice reverend and learned father, M. Beza, was ashamed in his younger years to send abroad, in his own name, his tragedy of "Abraham,"[4] nor that rare Scot (the scholar of our age) Buchanan, his most pathetical Jephtha. Indeed I must willingly confess this work simple, and not worth comparison to any of theirs: for the writers of them were grave men; of this, young heads: in them is shown the perfection of their studies; in this, the imperfection of their wits. Nevertheless herein they all agree, commending virtue, detesting vice, and lively deciphering their overthrow that suppress not their unruly affections. These things noted herein, how simple soever the verse be, I hope the matter will be acceptable to the wise. Wherefore I am now bold to present Gismund to your sights, and unto yours only, for therefore have I conjured her, by the love that hath been these twenty-four years betwixt us, that she wax not so proud of her fresh painting, to straggle in her plumes abroad, but to contain herself within the walls of your house; so am I sure she shall be safe from the tragedian tyrants of our time, who are not ashamed to affirm that there can no amorous poem savour of any sharpness of wit, unless it be seasoned with scurrilous words. But leaving them to their lewdness, I hope you, and all discreet readers, will thankfully receive my pains, the fruits of my first harvest: the rather, perceiving that my purpose in this tragedy tendeth only to the exaltation of virtue and suppression of vice, with pleasure to profit and help all men, but to offend or hurt no man. As for such as have neither the grace, nor the good gift, to do well themselves, nor the common honesty to speak well of others, I must (as I may) hear and bear their baitings with patience. Yours devoted in his ability, R. WILMOT.A PREFACE TO THE QUEEN'S MAIDENS OF HONOUR.[5]1. A SONNET OF THE QUEEN'S MAIDS.They which tofore thought that the heaven's throne 2. ANOTHER TO THE SAME.Flowers of prime, pearls couched all in gold, 3. ANOTHER TO THE SAME.Gismund, that whilome liv'd her father's joy DRAMATIS PERSONAE.[10]CUPID. ARGUMENT OF THE TRAGEDY.[12]Tancred, the Prince of Salerne, overloves ANOTHER OF THE SAME, MORE AT LARGE, IN PROSE.[14]Tancred, King of Naples and Prince of Salerne, gave his only daughter Gismund (whom he most dearly loved) in marriage to a foreign prince, after whose death she returned home to her father, who having felt great grief of her absence whilst her husband lived, immeasurably esteeming her, determined never to suffer any second marriage to bereave him of her. She, on the other side, waxing weary of that her father's purpose, bent her mind to the secret love of the County Palurin: to whom (he being likewise inflamed with love of her) by a letter subtly enclosed in a cloven cane, she gave to understand a convenient way for their desired meetings, through an old ruinous vault, whose mouth opened directly under her chamber floor. Into this vault when she was one day descended (for the conveyance of her lover), her father in the mean season (whose only joy was in his daughter) came to her chamber, and not finding her there, supposing her to have been walked abroad for her[15] disport, he threw him down on her bed, and covered his head with a curtain, minding to abide and rest there till her return. She, nothing suspecting this her father's unseasonable coming, brought up her lover out of the cave into her chamber, where her father espied their secret love: and he (not espied of them) was upon this sight stricken with marvellous grief; but either for that the sudden despite had amazed him, and taken from him all use of speech, or for that he resolved himself to a more convenient revenge, he then spake nothing, but noted their return into the vault, and secretly departed. Afterward, bewailing his mishap, he commanded the earl to be attached, imprisoned, strangled, unbowelled, and his heart in a cup of gold to be presented to his daughter:[16] she thankfully receiveth the present, filling the cup (wherein the heart was) with her tears, with a venomous potion (by her distilled for that purpose) she drank to her earl. Which her father hearing of, came too late to comfort his dying daughter, who for her last request besought him that her lover and herself might in one tomb be together buried for a perpetual memory of their faithful loves; which request he granted, adding to the burial himself, slain with his own hands, to his own reproach, and the terror of all other hard-hearted fathers. Introductio in Actum Secundum. Before the second act there was heard a sweet noise of still pipes, which sounding, Lucrece entered, attended by a maiden of honour with a covered goddard of gold, and, drawing the curtains, she offereth unto Gismunda to taste thereof; which when she had done, the maid returned, and Lucrece raiseth up Gismunda from her bed, and then it followeth ut in act ii. sc. 1. Introductio in Actum Tertium. Before this act the hautboys sounded a lofty almain, and Cupid ushereth after him Guiscard and Gismunda, hand in hand; Julio and Lucrece, Renuchio and another maiden of honour. The measures trod, Gismunda gives a cane into Guiscard's hand, and they are all led forth again by Cupid, ut sequitur. Introductio in Actum Quartum. Before this act there was heard a consort of sweet music, which playing, Tancred cometh forth, and draweth Gismunda's curtains, and lies down upon her bed; then from under the stage ascendeth Guiscard, and he helpeth up Gismunda: they amorously embrace and depart. The king ariseth enraged. Then was heard and seen a storm of thunder and lightning, in which the furies rise up, ut sequitur. Introductio in Actum Quintum. Before this act was a dead march played, during which entered on the stage Renuchio, Captain of the Guard, attended upon by the guard. They took up Guiscard from under the stage; then after Guiscard had kindly taken leave of them all, a strangling-cord was fastened about his neck, and he haled forth by them. Renuchio bewaileth it; and then, entering in, bringeth forth a standing cup of gold, with a bloody heart reeking hot in it, and then saith, ut sequitur. |
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