Playes confuted in fiue actions prouing that they are not to be suffred in a Christian common weale, by the waye both the cauils of Thomas Lodge, and the play of playes, written in their defence, and other obiections of players frendes, are truely set downe and directlye aunsweared. By Steph. Gosson, stud. Oxon.

The 2 Action. (Book 2)

IF the daye wherein wee bee deli∣uered from the iawes of death, ought to bée as ioyfull to vs as the houer of birth, because the ioy of sa••etie atchiued is sure, the condition of byrth vncertaine; and because wee are borne without pleasure, saued with gladnes: Both I shal think my study very well employed, and my louing cuntrimen of Englande shall haue cause to reioyce, if it please God

by my trauell against Plaies, to make me a stay to the ryot of their expen∣ces, a discloser of the corruptiō in their families, and a watchman againste the hazard of their soules. All which as I iudge to proceed of Stage Plays; so must I confute the opinion of them that holde the contrary. Yonge Ma∣ster Lodge thinking to iett vpon star∣toppes, and steale an y••che of his hight by the bare name of Cicero, alle∣geth frō hi••, ••^t a Play is the School∣mistresse of life; the lookinge glas••e of manners; and the image of trueth. But finding him selfe too wéeke in the knées to stand it out, nei∣ther alleadging the place where Tullie saith it; nor bringing any reason of his owne, to proue it; hee flittes from this to the Etymologie of Plai••s, frō thence to the mu••niors, and so gallops his wisedome out of breath. It sé∣emeth that Master Lodge s••w this in Tulile with other f••lk••s eyes, and not his owne. For to my remembrance I neuer read it in him, neither doe I thinke that Master Lodge can shewe it me. For in his Tusculans second,

third, and ••ourth booke, he misliketh playes, in his bookes of the common weale, he is sharpe set against them. In his Epistles writing to Marius,* 1.1 who was absent from the playes that were set out at Pompeys charges, he telleth him that if any paine of bodie, or decaye of health withhelde him, hee attributeth it rather to for••une, then to his wisdome, but if he contemned those bables, that other men wonder at, and being not ••indered with sick∣nes refused to see them of his own ac∣cord, he rei••yceth greatly in his friēdes behalfe, first, that he felt no greese of bo∣die, next that ••he was perfectly whole in minde, because he fores••owed to come to those spectacles, which other mē delight in without cause. I would it pleased master Lodge to remember that in cases of conscience no mans aucthoritie may stand for reason, it is therefore our duetie to weighe before we speake, whether the testi∣monies of other men will abide the hammeringe, when they come to be wrought by the worde of God, otherwise to take what soeuer they

say for Oracles, and muster them together in proofe of that which nei∣ther reason nor conscience doth allow, is as fonde and impertinent an en∣terprise, as to open our locke with the hatchet, and cleaue our wood with the key.

But because master Lodge will needes father these wordes vpon Tullie that neuer spake them, I will first sette downe the matter, and the persons of both kindes of playes, then rippe vp euery part of this definition, that you may see how this gentleman like the Foxe at the banquet of the Storke,* 1.2 lickes the outside of the glasse with an emp∣tie stomacke, when his heade will not suffer him to enter in.

The argumēt of Tragedies is wrath, crueltie, incest, iniurie, mur∣ther eyther violent by sworde, or vo∣luntary by poyson. The persons, Gods, Goddesses, fu∣ries, fiendes, Kinges, Quenes, and mightie men. The ground worke of Commedies, is loue, cose∣nedge,

flatterie, bawderie, slye con∣neighance of whordome. The persōs, cookes, queanes, knaues, baudes, pa∣rasites, courtezannes, lecherouse olde men, amorous yong men. There∣fore Plautus in his prologue before the comedie of the captiues, desiring to curry fauoure with his auditours, ex∣horteth them earnestly to marke that playe, because it shall cast no such stenche of impuritie into theire noses as others doe. There is in it (saith he) neither forsworne baude, nor harlot, nor bragging souldier. Why could he not giue this commendation to all the rest? because it was the practise of the deuill, to weaue in a threed of his own spinning. Why is this rather purged of filthines then the rest? because it is the iuglinge of the deuill, to turne him∣selfe sometimes to an Angel of light, to deceiue vs the sooner. The best play you can picke out, is but a mi••ture of good and euill, how can it be then the schoolemistres of life? The beholding of troubles and miserable slaughters that are in Tragedies, driue vs to im∣moderate sorrow, heauines, woma∣nish

weeping and mourning, where∣by we become louers of dumpes, and lamentatiō, both enemies ro ••ortitude. Comedies so tickle our senses with a pleasanter vaine, that they make vs louers of laughter, and pleasure, with∣out any meane, both foes to tempe∣rance, what schooling is this? Some∣time you shall see nothing but the ad∣uentures of an amorous knight, pas∣sing from countrie to countrie for the loue of his lady, encoūtring many a te∣rible monster made of broune paper, & at his retorne, is so wonderfully chan∣ge••, that he can not be knowne but by some posie in his tablet, or by a broken ring, or a handkircher, or a piece of a cockle shell, what learne you by that? When y^e soule of your playes is eyther meere trifles, or Italian baudery, or wooing of gentlewomen, what are we taught? paraduenture you will saye,* 1.3 that by these kinde of playes, the au∣thours instruct vs how to loue with constancie, to sue with modestie, and to loth whatsoeuer is contrarie vn∣to this. In my opinion,* 1.4 the disci∣pline we gette by playes is like to

the iustice that a certaine Schoolema∣ster taught in Persia, which taught his schollers to lye, and not to lye; to de∣ceiue, and not to deceiue,* 1.5 with a di∣stinction howe they might doe it to their friends, & how to their enemies; to their friends, for exercise; to their fooe••, in earnest. Wher••in many of his schollers became so skilfull by pra∣ctise, by custome so bolde, that their dearest friendes payde more for their learning then their enemies. I would wish the Players to beware of this kind of schooling, least that whilst they teach youthfull gentlemē how to loue, and not to loue; how to woo, and not to woo, their schollers grow as cun∣ning as the Persians.

As the mischiefe that followed that discipline of Persia enforced them to make a lawe, that yong men should e∣uer after be taught simply as house∣holders vse to instruct their families: so I trust, that when the Londoners are sufficiently ••eaten with the hurte of such lessōs as are learned at Plaies, if not for conscience sake, yet for shun∣ning the mischiefe that may priuately

breake into euery mans house, this methode of teaching will bée come so hatefull, that euen worldly pollicy without any gramercy shalbe driuen ••o banish it.

Sappho writing to her Louer Pha∣on, telleth him,* 1.6 that her study péepes out in her behauiour, and Thalia her Muse hath made her wanton. Howe true this assertion is, appeareth by Mathematicians, which are solitary; musitians, whose mindes are as va∣riable as their arte. This may suf∣fice to persuade vs that no man••er of goodnes can bée learned at a play, partly because the best is a mixture of good and eull, as shalbe showen more euidently by the formall cause thereof when I come to that place. The minde of it selfe is simple without mixture or composition, therefore those instructions that are giuen to the minde must bee simple without mingle māgle of fish & flesh, good & bad where both are profred, the hereditacie corruptiō of our nature taketh y^e worst and leaueth the best.* 1.7 Upon this cōside∣ratiō Aristotle 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fo••biddeth yōg

men of Plaies till they bee setled in minde & immoueable in affection lest comming to the Stage to fetche Phy∣sicke for loue, they quench their heate with a pynte of water and a pottle of fire; partly because that whiche is learned, must be learned of the best, least the example of vngodly Masters, poyson vs rather thē instructe vs. But whether Playes, for the matter; or Players, for their manners; be fitte Schoolmasters of honestie, I report me to them that by frequenting The∣aters are very well acquainted with the argument of the one, the life of the other. If any goodnes were to bée learned at Playes it is likely that the Players them selues which com∣mitt euery sillable to memory shoulde profitte most, béecause that as euery man learneth so hee liueth; and as his study is, such are his manners; but the dayly experiēce of their behauiour, sheweth, that they reape no profit by the discipline them selues; how then can they put vs in any good hope to be instructed thereby when wée haue the sight of such lessons, but an houre or

two as they study and practise euerie daye, yet are neuer the better. Ma∣ster Lodge finding some péeuish index or gatherer of Tullie to be a sléepe, is very wel contented to winke for com∣pany, and thinking his worde so cur∣rant to goe for payment, woulde glad∣ly persuade vs vpon Tullies credite that a Play is the Schoolmistres of life. Wherein I perceiue hée is no changeling, for hée disputeth as sound∣ly being from the vniuersitie and out of exercise, as hée did when hée was there, and at his booke.

The next property that of his owne braine, (but in Ciceroes name) hée giues to a Play, is, that it is a very Glasse of behauiour. The corrup∣tion of manners is there reu••aled and accused. Which is easily confuted, by the circumstaunce of the place, of the person, of the manner, and of the end of accusation. For the place; no priuate mans life ought to be brought in question or accused, but where hée may pleade in his owne defence and haue indifferent iudges to determine the cause, to that ende ••eceiue wee

a couple of eares that both partes might be heard, both equally weigh∣ed, & therfore did Alexander in iudge∣ment stop one eare with his finger reseruing it wholly for the defendant. At Stage Plaies it is ridiculous, for the parties accused to replye, no indif∣ferency of iudgement can be had, bée∣cause the worste sorte of people haue the hearing of it, which in respecte of there ignorance, of there ••icklenes, and of there furie, are not to bee admitted in place of iudgement. A Iudge must be gra••e, sober, discréete, wise, well exercised in cases of gouernement. Which qualities are neuer founde in the baser sort.

A Iudge must be immoueable, vn∣corrupted, vpright, neither turning to the right hand, nor to the left; the mea∣ner sort•• tottre, they are caried away with euery rumor, and so easily cor∣rupted, that in the Theaters they gene¦rally take vp a wonderfull laughter, and shout altogether with one voyce, when they see some notable cosenedge practised, or some slie conueighance of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 brought out of Italy. Wherby

they showe them selues rather to like it then to rebuke it. A iudge must nei∣ther be in••lamed with choler, nor blin∣ded w^t affectiō; The rudest of the peo∣ple are sometime rau••shed with euery giewgawe, sometime so headie, that they runne together by heapes, they know not whither; and lay about with theire clubbes, they see not why. Which thing the auncient Philoso∣phers considering called them a mon∣ster of many heades. If the common people which resorte to Theate••s being but ā assemblie of T••ilers, Tin∣kers, Cordwayners, Saylers, olde Men, yong Men, Women, Boyes, Girles, and such like, be the iudges of faultes there painted out, the rebu∣king of manners in that place, is ney∣ther lawfull nor conuenient, but to be held for a kinde of libelling, and de∣faming. Howsoeuer they face it out with their owne cardes, pretending that as the Painter in his shoppe ex∣presseth one or other by a counterfaite:* 1.8 so the Poet on stages presenteth you a picture of his owne drawing, wherein you may behold the whole life of man,* 1.9

it appeareth by antiquitie, that the Poets which were before, had another meaning: for as any man had displea∣sed them, to reueng theire owne cause they studied to present him vpon the stage, there did they russie, and taunt; scoffe, and ••••ppe; thunder, and lighten, and spue vp theire c••unning to deface him. Whereupon grewe one of the lawes of the twelue tables, that no man should be so hardie as to write a∣ny thing,* 1.10 whereby the good name of any bodie might be hurt; they woulde not haue the life and behauiour of the citizens, subiect ••ythēr to a Poets in ke∣horne, or a Players tongue, but to the seate of iustice.

* 1.11This may be gathered by the Epi∣stle of Horace to Augustus, and by other famous writers, which hauinge curiously searched y^e lawes of the Ro∣maines, confesse in plaine words, that the ouerlashing of players was so restrayned. Whether this be the pra∣ctise of Poets in these dayes you may perceiue by the drift of him that wrote the play termed the three Ladies of London, which in the Catastrophe

maketh Loue and Conscience to be examined how thrie good ladishippes like of playes? Loue answeres that she detesteth them, because her guttes are tourned outward, and all her se∣cret conueighaunce, is blazed with colours to the peoples eye. Consci∣ence like a kindharted gentlewoman doth alow them.

In this pointe the Poet makes so much hast to his iorneyes end, that he throwes him selfe headlong downe the hill. For neither Loue disliked them, before he had maried her to Dissimu∣lation, whose prop••itie is to say one thing and thinke another: nor Con∣science allowed them, before he had spotted her with all abhomination, whose nature is to allowe that which is like her selfe, filthie, corrupt, spotted, and defiled. The writer of the plaie called London against the three La∣dies confesseth in his prologe that he made it partly for enuie, partly for a vaine glorious minde. For enuie: be∣cause his stomack would not beare the commendations, that other men gaue to the three Ladies in his hearing.

For vaine glorie: because he straue to do better himselfe, and ••••sd the cushi∣on; somewhat I graunt he bettered it in shewe, touching the substance he doth but cauill as I woulde declare, if it were not from the matter I take in hand. By these fewe you may gather of all the rest, and perswade your selues that as stages and Thea∣ters are not allowed by the lawes of God, or man, to medle with disorders: so is it not the marke that theire au∣thours shoote at when they fill th••se roomes.* 1.12 If any deformity be reprehen∣ded there, it is to be done by the pla∣yers mouth, he that will shewe ano∣ther man his fault, must purge him selfe first. For as they were forbidden in old time to expounde anie Oracles which had anie infection about theire bodies:* 1.13 so haue they no grace in rebu∣king others, that nourish a canker in their owne soules. How are they able to pull vs vp that grouel as flatte in the dust as we? what credit, hath any good counsell in Players lippes, when it workes no amendment in themselues? Concerning the maner

of rebuking whosoeuer taketh that of∣fice vpon him must do it secretly, of compassion, and in the spirit of meek∣nes•• Secretly: because we ought not to defame the parti•• rebuked against the law of charitie, or the rule of Christ: the law of charitie, which couereth the multitude of offences; the rule of Christ which w••ll••th vs to drawe our brother aside and ••ell him our minde.

O•• compassion•• for he that rebuketh must be inwardly stricken with greese of heart to s••e the maiestie of God of∣fended, and the soule of his brother h••zarded.

So Paul writing against an ince∣stuous person,* 1.14 confesseth that he did it with many teares, whereby he giueth vs to vnderstand how he pitied the of∣fender, and lamented the damnable case he stood in.* 1.15 In the spirit of méek∣nes: because we ought to consider our own•• weaknes, which are subi••••te to infirmities, and may be tempted as much as other. But when any thing is reprehended by Players vpon the Stage, it is openly blowne into the

eares of many and made a by worde, it procedeth not of sorrow, or compas∣sion towards him that hath offended,* 1.16 but springeth either of y^e Poets mallice, for so Eupolis hādled Alcibiades; or of corruption, as Aristophanes dealt with Socrates and Cleon; with So∣crates, in his Comedie called The cloudes, wherin he was hyred by A∣nytus and Melitus to discredit him; with Cleon in his Comedie named, The men at armes, bribed by Nicias and Demosthenes (as some writers suspect) to do the like. It is not spoken in the spirit of meek∣nes, but with a scoffing, and iearinge spirit, altogether vnmeete for such a purpose. The white that rebu∣kers ought to leuil at, is the recouerie of him that hath trodde awrte.* 1.17 So Peter bidds Simon the sorcerer to re∣pent that his sinne might be forgiuen him.* 1.18 So Paul cōmandeth the Church of Corinth to deliuer the incestuous man vnto Satan that his soule might be safe in the day of the Lord. But neither the Poets which penne the playes, nor the Actors that present

them vpon the Stage, doe seeke to doe any good vnto such as they rebuke, for the Poets intente, is, to wreake his owne anger, as I shewed you of Eu∣polis & those y^• were restrained by the Twelue tables; the Actor•• either hū•• for their own profit, as the players in London; or followe the humor of their owne fancies, and youthfull de∣lightes, as the studentes of the vniuer∣sities, and the Inns of Courte.

Therefore vpon the place, vpon the person, vpon the methode, vpon the ende of reprehention, I conclude, that a plaie, can bée no looking glasse of behauiour, and the rebuking of manners is as fit for the Sage, as the picture of Chastitie for the stues. Yet is Master Lodge very eager to force it vpon me, for Tullies sake, vsing his olde facion of disputing, compelled with hunger when reason is scant••, ei∣ther to flye to a blinde texte, or to plaie the woman & braule it out. He row∣eth on farther in this barge and holdes it harde that a plaie is the Image of trueth•• Wherein he far••th as ma∣riners at Sea, who haue no more ti∣tle

to that they haue passed, and le••te behinde them; then to that which remayneth vntouched, and lyeth be∣fore them.

As t••e other two properties which he posted ouer, are su••fitiently pro∣ued, not to belong to Comedies, for which he clames them: so (God wil∣ling) you shall perceiue, that he en∣treth as boldely vpon this, without a∣ny commission to beare him out. The per••ectest Image is that, which ma∣keth the thing to séeme, ••either greater nor l••sse, then in deede it is. But in Playes, either those thinges are ••ai∣ned, that neuer were, as Cupid and Psyche plaid at Paules; and a greate many Cōedies more at y^e Blacke fri∣ers and in euery Playe house in Lon∣don, which for breuiti••s sake I ouer skippe: or if a true Historie be taken in hand, it is made like our shadows, longest at the rising and falling of the Sunne, shortest of all at hie noone. For the Poets driue it most common∣ly vnto such pointes, as may best showe the maiestie of their pen, in Tragicall speaches; or set the hearers

a gogge, with discourses of lo••e; or painte a fewe antickes, to fitt their owne humors, with scoffes & tau••tes; or wring in a shewe, to furnish the Stage, when it is to bare; when the matter of it selfe comes shorte of this, they followe the practise of the cobler, and set their t••••th to the leather to pull it out.

So was the history of Caesar and Pompey, and the Playe of the Fab••i at the Theater, both amplified there, where the Drummes might walke, or the pen ru••fle, when the history swel∣led, and ran to hye for the number of y^e persons, that shoulde playe it, the Po∣et with Proteus cut the same fit to his owne measure; when it afoorded no pompe at al, he brought it to the racke, to make it serue. Which inuinciblie proueth on my side, that Plays are no Images of trueth, because sometime they hādle such thinges as neuer were, sometime they runne vpon truethes, but make them séeme longer, or shor∣ter, or greater, or lesse then they were, according as the Poet blowes them vp with his quill, ••or aspiring heades;

or minceth them smaller, for weaker stomakes. I may boldely say it, because I haue seene it, that the Palace of pleasure, the Golden Asle, the AEthiopian hi∣storie, Amadis of Fraunce, the Rounde table, baudie Comedies in Latine, French, Italian, and Spanish, haue beene throughly ransackt, to ••ur∣nish the Playe houses in London. How is it possible that our Playema∣kers headdes, running through Ge∣nus and Species & euery difference of lyes, cosenages, baudries, whoore∣demes, should p••esēt vs any schoole∣mistres of life, looking glasse of mā∣ners, or Image of trueth?* 1.19 for ••••th saith the Authour of the Playe of playes showen at the Theater, the three and twentieth of Februarie last, They shalbe nowe purged, the matter shalbe good.

* 1.20Bée it as hee sayth, let vs graunte him that hee may haue Playes, if hee please whose matter is good, simple, swéete,* 1.21 and honest; yet must I aun∣swere him with Tertullian that as no man, which desireth to giue you a

deadly poyson will temper the same with gaull, and Elleborus, or any thing that is bitter, and vnpleasaunt; but with sweete & holsome confectiōs: So the Deuill, at Playes, wil bring the comfortable worde of God, which, because it norisheth of nature is very conuenient to carry the poyson into our vaines.

But sith Bucchanans booke is an old wormeaten obiection which was laide in my dish at my first publishing the schoole of abuse, you shall see whe∣ther it be lawfull for Christians to play it. when I handle the representa∣tion of playes though theirs matter be honest. As for that glosing plaie at y^e Theater which profers you so faire, there is enterlaced in it, a ba••die song of a maide of Kent, and a litle beastly speach, of the new stawled r••ge, both which I am compelled to burie in si∣lence, being more ashamed ••o vtter them, then they. For as in Tragedies some points are so terrible, that the Poets are con••••rayned to turne them from the peoples eyes; so in the song ••f the one, the speache of the other,

somewhat is so dishonest, that I can not with honestie repeate it. Neuer∣thelesse if they should altogether swepe of this donge from the Stage, and em∣ploy them selues soberlie to rebukinge of manners; as I haue already pro∣ued the Stage to be vnfitte for such a purpose, so I perswade my selfe, that the other is b••t the iugglinge of the deuill, who perceyuing his comedies begin to s••inke, giueth vs a graine or two in the weight of the cause, to make vp his market,* 1.22 and as Augustine noteth is contented some∣time to be euill spoken of in Playes to bleare our eyes. He affordeth to vs as he did to Plautus some small number of plaies without loue or cur∣t••sane, yea with verie good matter, to ••aintaine the idolatry of the Genti••s.* 1.23 The number of the yeares wherein they florished amonge the Gréekes, though they be re••oned to be thirtene hundreth, yet if they had mounted to thirtene thousande this is no•• enough to perswade vs that are Christians to do the like.* 1.24 For the playes of the Gre∣cians are to be receyued among Chri∣stians,

if th•••• Gods be ••o be honou∣red, but theire Gods are by no meanes to be honoured, therefore theire playes are by no m••anes to be receyued.* 1.25 Te••∣tullian teacheth vs that euery part of the preparation of playes, was dedi∣cated to some h••••thē god, or goddesse, as the house, stage, apparrell, to Ve∣nus; the musike, to Apollo; the pen∣ning, to Minerua, and the Muse••; the pronuntiacion and act••on to Mercu∣rie: he calleth the Theater Sacrarium Veneris, Venus chappell, by resorting to which we worshippe her.

The Censors in Roome whose manner was once in fiue yeare strait∣ly to examine, and redresse disorders, hauing a great care to auoyde all cor∣ruptions of manners, were verie painefull in racinge and destroying Theaters, which poysoned theire countrie with the lousnesse and disso∣lute behauioure of y^e Gréekes. There∣fore when Pompey had built a stately Theater of stone at his owne char∣ges, fearing that in time to come it would be defaced by the Censors som∣moning the people to the dedication

of the same, placed a chappel to Venus on the toppe, and called it not a The∣ater, but Venus temple consecrated vnto her.* 1.26 Though the names of hea∣then gods or goddesses be of thēselues no more hurtfull, then the ••ames of o∣ther men,* 1.27 that are dead: yet triūphing vnder those titles with the Gentiles, and attributing a kind of diuinitie vn∣to them, as the Gentiles did, is to be defiled with theire idolatrie. What is idolatrie, but to giue that which is pro∣per to God, vnto them that are no gods? what is so proper vnto God, as worship to his maiestie? trust, to his strength? prayer, to his helpe? thanks, to his goodnes? setting out the Stage playes o•• the Gentiles, so we worship that we stoupe to the names of heathē idols; so we trust y^t we giue our selues to the patronage of Mars, of Venus, of Iuppiter of Iuno, and such like, so we pray, y^t we call for theire succour vpon the Stage; so we giue thakes for the benefits we receiue, that we make thē y^e fountaines of al our blessings, wher∣in if we thinke as we speake, we com∣mit idolatry, because we bestow y^t vpō

the idols of y^e Gentils, which is proper to God; if we make a diuorce betwene the tongue & the heart, honouringe the gods of y^e heathens in lips, & in iesture, not in thought, yet it is idolatrie, be∣cause we do y^t which is quite cōtrary to y^e outward profession of our faith. God tearmeth himselfe to be iealous, & iea∣losie misliketh the smallest iestures or signes of familiaritie, that are giuen to strangers. If Sidrach Misach, & A∣bednago had not knowne this, they might haue vailed and bended, to the Kings idoll, but because y^e outwarde shew, must represēt y^t which is within, they would not seeme to be, that they were not: whose example is set dowe as arule for vs to followe. A bodie would thinke it to be somewhat tolle∣rable, to sitt at the table of Idolators, or to eat of y^e meate that hath bene con∣secrated vnto idols, whē we throw not our bodies downe before thē, yet is not y^t to be suffred among Christians, as I proued before by y^e Apostles, much les ought this to be suffred among vs, y^t a∣ny should take vnto thē y^t names of y^e idols, and iette vpon stages in theire attire,* 1.28 contrary to the counsel of Saint

Iohn which exhorteth vs to kepe our selues frō idols, wh••rein he doth not onely forbid the worshipping, but the representing of an idoll.* 1.29 So subtill is the deuill, that vnder the colour of re∣creation, in London, and of exercise of learning, in the vniuersities, by séeing of playes, he maketh vs to ioyne with the Gentiles, in theire corruption. Be∣cause the sweete numbers of Poetrie flowing in verse, do wōderfully tickle the hearers eares, the deuill hath tyed this to most of our playes, that what∣soeuer he would haue sticke fast to our soules, might slippe downe in suger by this intisement, for that which de∣lighteth neuer troubleth our swallow. Thus when any matter of loue is en∣terlarded though the thinge it selfe bee able to allure vs, yet it is so sette out with sweetn••s of wordes, fitnes of Epithites, with Metaphors, Alegories, Hyperboles, Amphibologies, Simili∣tudes, with Phrases, so pickt, so pure, so proper; with action, so smothe so liuely, so wantō; that the poyson cree∣ping on secretly without griefe chookes vs at last, and hurleth vs downe

in a dead sleepe. As the Diuell hath brought in all that Poetrie can sing, so hath hee sought out euery streine that musicke is able to pipe, and drawē all kind of instruments into that com¦passe, simple and mixte.

For the eye béeside the beautie of the houses, and the Stages, hee sendeth in Gearish apparell maskes, vauting, tumbling, daunsing of gigges, galiardes, morisces, hobbi∣horses; showing of iudgeling castes, nothing forgot, that might serue to set out the matter, with pompe, or ra∣uish the beholders with varietie of ple∣asure. To séeke this, is, to spend our studies in things that are meere natu∣rall, to spende our time so is to be car∣nally minded, but to be carnally min∣ded is death,* 1.30 howe then can wee looke to bee Partakers of the benefittes of Christ, which runne a contrary race to him? Where no promise is, there can be no fayth, through the whole course of Scripture as there is no pro∣mise for such as liue in the flesh, so hell and damnation is sharpely threatned, shall wee flatter our selues with a

wanne hope, to nourish the delightes of the fleshe while wee liue, neuerthe∣lesse to winne heauen after death?* 1.31 Paule flat••e pronounceth the delights of the flesh to be emnitie against God, if they be e••••it••, pursuing them so gréedely as we doe, wee bend our selues openly agaynst him, that payde the pr••ce of our rā••ome with the b••oode of his s••••ne, O horrible ingratitude; we ••ellowe the pompe and vanitie of the wicked worlde, which we renoun∣ced in Baptisme, O dānable apostacy. The heathens, that knewe not God, but naturally guided them selues by reason, iudged thē rather to be beastes then men, which fixed their studies in wanton spectacles, and spending good howers in euill exercise, seemed to wroote in the earth like swine. Ther∣fore Marius in an oration to the Ro∣mans reckoneth this vpp among the rest of his vertues to gett him credite, that hee neither banqueted curiously,* 1.32 nor behelde playes: hauing before giuē account of his bringing vp, howe hee was taught to suffer hunger & thirst, ••ea. ••a••••d ••olde, ••o beare all weather

in the field, by the way of contempte hee setteth out a softe, a si••ken, a Courting kinde of life, fitter for wo∣men then for men, wherein he holdeth playes so vnfit for manly discipline, that attributing it for an ornament to his honour to mis••ike them, he priui∣ly insinuates a reproach vnto such as loue them.

Sithince you sée euē by y^e examples of the Romans, that playes are ••ats∣bane to the gouernement of common∣weales, and that Players by the iudge∣ment of them, are infamous persons, vnworthy of the credite of honest Ci∣tizens, worthy to be remoued from their Tribe: if not for religion, yet for shame, that the Gentiles should iudge you at the last daye, or that Publi∣canes and sinners shoulde pre••e into the kingdome of God before you, withdrawe your féete from Theaters, with noble Marius; set downe some punishment for Players, with the Ro¦man Censors; shewe your selues to be Christians, & with wicked specta∣cles bee not puld from discipline, to li∣bertie; from vertue to pleasure; from

God, to Mammon, let nothing be ac∣ceptable in your eyes, that is not ho∣ly; nor sweete in your eares that is not heauenly; so shall you preuent the scourge by repentance, that is cōming towarde you; and fill vp the gulfe, that the Diuell by playes hath digged to swallowe you.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Ep. Iam. lib. 7.
• * 1.2

  Aesop. Fab.
• * 1.3

  A common & fond obiectiō.
• * 1.4

  Answere.
• * 1.5

  Xenopho. Lib. 1. de instit. Cy••••.
• * 1.6

  Ouid. Epist.
• * 1.7

  Polit. 7. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vlt.
• * 1.8

  Obiection.
• * 1.9

  Answere,
• * 1.10

  Cicer. in his 4. booke of the. cōmon weale
• * 1.11

  Epist. lib. 2.
• * 1.12

  Mat. 7. ver. 3.
• * 1.13

  Plutarch.
• * 1.14

  2. Cor. 2 ve 4.
• * 1.15

  Gallat. 6. ve 1.
• * 1.16

  August. 2. de ciuit•• dei.
• * 1.17

  Act. 8.21
• * 1.18

  1. Cor. 5.5.
• * 1.19

  Obiection.
• * 1.20

  Aunswere.
• * 1.21

  De spectaculis,
• * 1.22

  2. De ciui••. Dei.
• * 1.23

  Obiection.
• * 1.24

  Answere.
• * 1.25

  De spectaculis
• * 1.26

  Obiection.
• * 1.27

  Answere.
• * 1.28

  1. Epist. ca. 5.
• * 1.29

  Tertul de Corona.
• * 1.30

  Rom. 8
• * 1.31

  Obiect.
• * 1.32

  Sal. lugurth.