[Summary and Extracts.] _Epistle to Sir Frances Walsingham._ ‘So fareth

it this present time with me, which giuing forth my Defiaunce vnto

Playes, am mightily beset with heapes of aduersaries.... I thought

it necessarye to nettle one of their Orators aboue the rest, not of

any set purpose to deface hym, because hee hath dealt very grossely,

homely, and vncharitably with me, but like a good Surgeon to cut, & to

seare, when the place requireth, for his owne amendment. Which thinge I

trust shall neither displease your honor, nor any of the godly, in the

reading, so long as the person whom I touch is (as I heare by hys owne

frendes, to hys repentance if he can perceiue it) hunted by the heauy

hand of God, and become little better than a vagarant, looser than

liberty, lighter than vanitie it selfe.’ Plays are an Augean stable to

be cleansed. ‘If euer so notable a thinge bee brought to passe it must

bee done by some Hercules in the Court, whom the roare of the enimy

can neuer daunt.’ Hints that this should be Walsingham. ‘The Gentlemen

Players in the citie of London, are growen in such a heate, that by

their foming, their fretting, their stampinge, my frendes do perceiue

how their harts woorke, and enforce me to bring to your honor no

common fraighte, but as much as my life and securitie hereafter shall

be woorth. If the prouidence of God, who many times scourgeth a man

with the sinne that he loued, haue ordeined those players whom I fed

with fancies, to be a whippe to my back, and a dagger to my brest, the

fault is mine owne, the punishmente due.’ _Epistle to the Universities

and Inns of Court._ P. 165. ‘I was very willing to write at this time,

because I was enformed by some of you which heard it with your ears,

that since my publishing the _Schole of Abuse_, two Playes of my making

were brought to the Stage: the one was a cast of Italian deuises,

called, The Comedie of Captaine Mario: the other a Moral, Praise at

parting. These they very impudently affirme to be written by me since

I had set out my inuectiue against them. I can not denie, they were

both mine, but they were both penned two yeeres at the least before I

forsoke them, as by their owne friends I am able to proue: but they

haue got suche a custome of counterfaiting vpon the Stage, that it is

growen to a habite, & will not be lefte. God knoweth, before whom to

you all I doe protest, as I shall answer to him at the last day, when

al hidden secrets shal be discouered, since the first printing of my

Inuectiue, to this day, I neuer made Playe for them nor any other.... I

departed from the City of London, and bestowed my time in teaching yong

Gentlemen in the Countrie, where I continue with a very worshipfull

Gentleman, and reade to his sonnes in his owne house.... As sonne as I

had inueighed against Playes, I withdrewe my selfe from them to better

studies, which so long as I liue I trust to follow.’ _The Confutation

of Playes. The First Action._ The Efficient Cause of Plays. Defends

his own change of mind. P. 167. ‘When I firste gaue my selfe to the

studie of Poetrie, and to set my cunning abroache, by penning Tragedies

and Comedies in the Citte of London: perceiuing such a Gordians knot

of disorder in euery play house, as woulde neuer bee loosed without

extremitie, I thought it better with Alexander to draw y^e sword that

should knappe it a sunder at one stroke, than to seeke ouernisely or

gingerly to vndoe it, with the losse of my time and wante of successe.

This caused mee to bidde them the base at their owne gole, and to geue

them a volley of heathen writers: that our diuines considering the

danger of suche houses as are set vp in London against the Lord, might

better them thoroughly with greater shotts.’ An incomplete remedy.

‘Acknowledging the mischiefe bred by playes wee hope to auoid yt by

changing their day yet suffer them still to remaine amonge vs.... The

abhominable practises of playes in London haue bene by godly preachers,

both at Paules crosse, and else where so zealously, so learnedly, so

loudly cried out vpon to small redresse; that I may well say of them,

as the Philosophers reporte of the moouing of the heauens, we neuer

heare them, because we euer heare them.’ Notes an answer to him. P.

169. ‘Amongest all the fauorers of these vncircumcised Philistines,

I meane the Plaiers, whose heartes are not right, no man til of late

durst thrust out his heade to mayntaine there quarrell, but one, in

witt, simple; in learning, ignorant; in attempt, rash; in name, Lodge:

whose booke, as it came not to my handes in one whole yeere after the

priuy printing thereof, so I confesse, that to it, before this time,

I aunswered nothing, partlie because he brought nothing; partlie

because my hearte was to bigge, to wrastle with him, that wanteth

armes. Therefore considering with my selfe that such kinde of sores

might bee launced to sone, I chose rather to let him ripen and breake

of him selfe, that vomiting out his owne disgrace, & being worne out

of fauour among his own friends, I might triumph in the cause & shedde

no blood.... Some of his acquaintance haue vaunted to cut and hewe

mee, I knowe not howe.’ The Devil is the efficient cause of plays, as

noted by Tertullian. P. 171. ‘And William [‘Thomas’ on a cancel in some

copies] Lodge in that patchte pamphlet of his ... confesseth openly

that playes were consecrated by the heathens to y^e honour of their

gods.’ Expounds the policy of the Devil in the matter. P. 172. ‘First

hee sente ouer many wanton Italian bookes.... Not contented with the

number he hath corrupted with reading Italian baudery, because all

cannot reade, [he] presenteth vs Comedies cut by the same paterne,

which drag such a monstrous taile after them, as is able to sweep whole

Cities into his lap.’ Argues that plays are of idolatrous origin, and

disliked by Scipio Nasica and other severer Romans. Rome held players

infamous. P. 178. ‘Wherefore I beseech God so to touch the heartes of

our Magistrates with a perfite hatred of sinne, and feare of Iudgement;

so to stirr vp some noble Scipio in the Courte, that these daunsing

Chaplines of Bacchus and all such as set vp these wicked artes, may be

driuen out of Englande.’ _The Second Action._ The Material Cause of

Plays. P. 179. ‘Yonge Master Lodge thinking to iett vpon startoppes,

and steale an ynche of his hight by the bare name of Cicero, allegeth

from him, y^t a Play is the Schoolmistresse of life; the lookinge

glasse of manners; and the image of trueth.... It seemeth that Master

Lodge saw this in Tullie with other folkes 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.’ Cites passages of Cicero against

_spectacula_. Sets down the matter of plays. P. 180. ‘The argument of

Tragedies is wrath, crueltie, incest, iniurie, murther eyther violent

by sworde, or voluntary by poyson. The persons, Gods, Goddesses,

furies, fiendes, Kinges, Quenes, and mightie men. The grounde worke of

Commedies, is loue, cosenedge, flatterie, bawderie, slye conueighance

of whoredome; The persons, cookes, queanes, knaues, baudes, parasites,

courtezannes, lecherous olde men, amorous yong men.’ Criticizes the

Lodge-Cicero metaphor in detail. Plays no schoolmistress of life. ‘The

beholding of troubles and miserable slaughters that are in Tragedies,

driue vs to immoderate sorrow, heauines, womanish weeping and mourning,

whereby we become louers of dumpes, and lamentation, both enemies to

fortitude. Comedies so tickle our senses with a pleasanter vaine, that

they make vs louers of laughter, and pleasure, without any meane, both

foes to temperance. What schooling is this? Sometime you shall see

nothing but the aduentures of an amorous knight, passing from countrie

to countrie for the loue of his lady, encountring many a terible

monster made of broune paper, & at his retorne, is so wonderfully

changed, 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?’ Aristotle forbade plays to the young. P. 182. ‘If any goodnes

were to be learned at Playes it is likely that the Players them selues

which committ euery sillable to memory shoulde profitte most ... but

the dayly experience of their behauiour sheweth, that they reape no

profit by the discipline them selues.’ Thinks Master Lodge found ‘some

peeuish index or gatherer of Tullie to be a sleepe.... Wherein I

perceiue hee is no changeling, for he disputeth as soundly being from

the vniuersitie and out of exercise, as he did when hee was there, and

at his booke.’ P. 183. Plays no glass of behaviour. Manners should

not be rebuked where no reply is possible, or before such judges as

‘the common people which resorte to Theaters being but an assemblie

of Tailers, Tinkers, Cordwayners, Saylers, olde Men, yong Men, Women,

Boyes, Girles, and such like’. The Roman law of libel restrained ‘the

ouer-lashing of players’. P. 185. Criticizes [Wilson’s] _The Three

Ladies of London_ [cf. ch. xxiii] for making Love detest and Conscience

allow plays; also a rival play of _London against the Three Ladies_.

Denies that intention either of poets or players is to profit those

they rebuke. P. 187. Plays not the image of truth. P. 188. ‘In Playes

either those thinges are fained that neuer were, as Cupid and Psyche

plaid at Paules; and a greate many Comedies more at ye Blacke friers

and in euery Playe house in London, which for breuities sake I ouer

skippe: of 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 commonly vnto such

pointes as may best showe the maiestie of their pen in Tragicall

speaches; or set the hearers a gogge with discourses of loue; or painte

a fewe antickes to fitt their owne humors with scoffes & tauntes; 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 teeth to the leather to pull it out. So was

the history of Caesar and Pompey, and the Playe of the Fabii at the

Theater, both amplified there, where the Drummes might walke, or the

pen ruffle; when the history swelled and ran to hye for the number of

y^e persons that should playe it, the Poet with Proteus [? Procrustes]

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.... I may boldely say

it because I haue seene it, that the Palace of pleasure, the Golden

Asse, the Œthiopian historie, Amadis of Fraunce, the Rounde Table,

baudie Comedies in Latine, French, Italian, and Spanish, haue beene

throughly ransackt to furnish the Playe houses in London.... Forsooth

saith the Authour of the Playe of plays showen at the Theater, the

three and twentieth of Februarie last: They shalbe nowe purged, the

matter shalbe good.... As for that glosing plaie at y^e Theater which

profers you so faire, there is enterlaced in it a baudie song of a

maide of Kent, and a little beastly speech of the new stawled roge,

both which I am compelled to burie in silence, being more ashamed to

vtter them than they.’ Thinks the minority of honest plays a trick of

the devil. Repeats his points as to the idolatrous origin of plays and

the infamy of players at Rome. The devil makes them alluring. P. 192.

‘For the eye, beeside the beautie of the houses and the Stages, hee

sendeth in Gearish apparell, maskes, vauting, tumbling, daunsing of

gigges, galiardes, morisces, hobbihorses, showing of iudgeling castes.’

_The Third Action._ The Formal Cause of Plays. P. 195. ‘The Law of God

very straightly forbids men to put on womens garments.’ This is not to

be explained away as a prohibition of disguises meant to facilitate

adultery, but is absolute. P. 197. ‘In Stage Playes for a boy to put

one the attyre, the gesture, the passions of a woman; for a meane

person to take vpon him the title of a Prince with counterfeit porte,

and traine, is by outwarde signes to shewe them selues otherwise then

they are, and so with in the compasse of a lye, which by Aristotles

iudgement is naught of it selfe and to be fledde.’ Admits that Gregory

Nazianzen and Buchanan wrote plays. ‘To what ende? To be Plaied vpon

Stages? neither Players nor their friendes are able to proue it.’

Refutes another objection. P. 198. ‘Let the Author of the playe of

playes & pastimes, take heede how he reason y^t action, pronuntiation,

agility of body are y^e good gifts of God. _Ergo_, plaies consisting

of these cannot be euill.’ Even the heathens condemned the waste of

money in spectacles. _The Fourth Action._ The Final Cause of Plays. P.

201. The end of plays is sinful delight, as is proved by the admissions

of Menander and Terence, ‘By the manner of penning in these dayes,

because the Poets send theire verses to the Stage vpon such feete

as continually are rowled vp in rime at the fingers endes, which is

plaucible to the barbarous, and carrieth a stinge into the eares of

the common people. By the obiect, because Tragedies and Commedies

stirre vp affections, and affections are naturally planted in that part

of the minde that is common to vs with brute beastes.’ Analyses the

argument of the Author of the Play of Plays, ‘spreading out his battel

to hemme me in’. P. 202. ‘He tyeth Life and Delight so fast together,

that if Delight be restrained, Life presently perisheth; there, zeale

perceyuing Delight to be embraced of Life, puttes a snafle in his

mouth, to keepe him vnder. Delight beinge bridled, Zeale leadeth life

through a wildernesse of lothsomenesse, where Glutte scarreth them

all, chafing both Zeale and Delight from Life, and with the clubbe

of amasednesse strikes such a pegge into the heade of Life, that he

falles downe for dead vpon the Stage. Life beinge thus fainte, and

ouertrauailed, destitute of his guyde, robbed of Delight, is readie to

giue vp the Ghost, in the same place; then entereth Recreation, which

with music and singing rockes Life a sleepe to recouer his strength.

By this meanes Tediousnesse is driuen from Life, and the teinte is

drawne out of his heade, which the club of amasednes left behinde. At

last Recreation setteth vp the Gentleman vpon his feete, Delight is

restored to him againe, and such kinde of sportes for cullices are

brought in to nourishe him, as none but Delighte must applye to his

stomache. Then time beinge made for the benefite of Life, and Life

being allowed to followe his appetite, amongst all manner of pastimes,

Life chooseth Commedies, for his Delight, partly because Commedies are

neither chargable to y^e beholders purse, nor painful to his body;

partly, because he may sit out of the raine to veiwe the same, when

many other pastimes are hindred by wether. Zeale is no more admitted to

Life before he be somewhat pinchte in the waste, to auoyde extremitie,

and being not in the end simply called Zeale but Moderate Zeale a fewe

conditions are prescribed to Comedies, that the matter be purged,

deformities blazed, sinne rebuked, honest mirth intermingled, and fitte

time for the hearing of the same appointed. Moderate Zeale is contented

to suffer them, who wyneth with delight to direct life againe, after

which he triumphes ouer Death & is crowned with eternitie.’ P. 203.

As Fathers and Councils ‘and y^e skilfulst Deuines at this day in

England which are compelled in Sermons to cry out against them’ are

challenged by this playmaker, will answer him. Distinguishes between

carnal and spiritual delight. Plays bring carnal delight, which is

contrary to reason and comes of corruption. _The Fifth Action._ The

Effects of Plays. P. 211. Why should he write against plays, when,

although famous men in both universities cry out against plays, ‘none

of them by printing haue taken the paines to write any full discouery

against them’? Partly because, being young, he will be better excused

than they if he ‘shoulde speake but one worde against y^e sleepines

of Magistrats which in this case is necessary to be toucht’; partly

because, ‘hauing once already written against playes, which no man

that euer wrote playes, did, but one, who hath changed his coppy,

and turned himself like y^e dog to his vomite, to plays againe, and

being falsly accused my selfe to do y^e like, it is needfull for me

to write againe’. Declares the effects of plays. Wantonness on the

stage excites the passions of the spectators. Theatres are ‘markets

of bawdry’. P. 215. ‘Our Theaters, and play houses in London, are as

full of secrete adulterie as they were in Rome.... In the playhouses

at London, it is the fashion of youthes to go first into the yarde,

and to carry theire eye through euery gallery, then like vnto rauens

where they spye the carion thither they flye, and presse as nere to y^e

fairest as they can.... They giue them pippines, they dally with their

garmentes to passe y^e time, they minister talke vpon al occasions,

& eyther bring them home to their houses on small acquaintance, or

slip into tauerns when y^e plaies are done. He thinketh best of his

painted sheath, & taketh himselfe for a iolly fellow, y^t is noted of

most, to be busyest with women in all such places.’ The players are

an evil in the commonwealth. P. 215. ‘Most of the Players haue bene

eyther men of occupations, which they haue forsaken to lyue by playing,

or common minstrels, or trayned vp from theire childehood to this

abhominable exercise & haue now no other way to get theire liuinge....

In a commonweale, if priuat men be suffered to forsake theire calling

because they desire to walke gentleman like in sattine & veluet, with

a buckler at their heeles, proportion is so broken, vnitie dissolued,

harmony confounded, that the whole body must be dismembred and the

prince or the heade cannot chuse but sicken.... Let them not looke to

liue by playes; the little thrift that followeth theire greate gaine,

is a manifest token that God hath cursed it.’ A final appeal to his

countrymen, ending, ‘God is iust, his bow is bent & his arrowe drawen,

to send you a plague, if you staye too long’.

xxxi. 1583. JOHN FIELD.

[From _A godly exhortation, by occasion of the late iudgement of

God, shewed at Parris-garden, the thirteenth day of Ianuarie:

where were assembled by estimation aboue a thousand persons,

whereof some were slaine; & of that number, at the least, as is

crediblie reported, the thirde person maimed and hurt_. Giuen

to all estates for their instruction, concerning the keeping of

the Sabboth day. By Iohn Field, Minister of the word of God....

Robert Waldegrave for Henry Carre, 1583. There is no entry in

S. R., but on 21 Jan. Richard Jones and William Bartlett were

imprisoned and fined for printing ‘a thing of the fall of the

gallories at Paris Garden’ without licence (Arber, ii. 853).

On 19 Jan. Fleetwood wrote to Lord Burghley (_M. S. C._ i.

160, from _Lansdowne MS._ 37, f. 10; also in Wright, ii. 184),

‘Vpon the same day [13 Jan.] the violaters of the Sabothe were

punished by Godes providens at Paris garden and as I was writing

of these last wordes loo here is a booke sett downe vpon the

same matter’.]

Epistle to the Lord Mayor, William Fleetwood, the Recorder, and the

Aldermen. Explains the address to them. A 2^v. ‘Is it not a lamentable

thing, that after so long preaching of the Gospell, there should bee

so great prophanation amongst vs? that Theaters should be full and

churches be emptie? that the streetes shoulde be replenished, and the

places of holy exercises, left destitute? I write not this simplie but

in respect, and by comparison.... If you say that this thing belongeth

not vnto you, because that Parris garden is out of your iurisdiction,

yet why are these men suffered to bring their Beares into the citie,

that thereby they may gather your company vnto them? It were duety in

you to hinder these and to take order that none of the citie should

repaire vnto such places.... 18^{th} January 1583. Iohn Feild.’

The exhortation is mainly a general call to repentance and fear of

judgement, without special reference to the occasion. B 3. Stress is

laid on abuse of the Sabbath. B 4. ‘There is no Dicing house, Bowling

alley, Cock pit, or Theater, that can be found empty. Those flagges of

defiance against God, & trumpets that are blown to gather together such

company, will sooner preuail to fil those places, then the preaching

of the holy worde of God ... to fill Churches. Nothing can stoppe them

from the same: neyther feare of danger, losse of tyme, corruption

of maners, infection of diseases, expence of money, suspition of

honestie and such like.... Pounds and hundreds can be well ynough

afforded, in following these least pleasures, though euery dore hath

a payment, & euery gallerie maketh a yearely stipend: thogh euery dog

hath a coller, & euery Beare a prize, and euery cracke bring a great

aduenture.’ Enforces the warning of Paris Garden. B vii^v. ‘I wil set

it down as plainly as I can, and as truly as can be gathered from the

examination of those same common euidences, that haue fallen out....

You shal vnderstand therfore (beloued Christians) that vpon the last

Lords day being the thirteen day of the first month, that cruell and

lothsome exercise of bayting Beares being kept at _Parris-garden_, in

the after-noone, in the time of common praiers, and when many other

exercises of Religion, both of preaching and Catechizing were had in

sundry places of the City, diuers Preachers hauing not long before

also cryed out against such prophanations: yet (the more pitty) there

resorted thither a great company of people of al sorts and conditions,

that the like nomber, in euery respect (as they say) had not beene

seene there a long time before. Beeing thus vngodly assembled, to so

vnholy a spectacle and specially considering the time; the yeard,

standings, and Galleries being ful fraught, being now amidest their

iolity, when the dogs and Bear were in the chiefest Battel, Lo the

mighty hand of God vppon them. This gallery that was double, and

compassed the yeard round about, was so shaken at the foundation, that

it fell (as it were in a moment) flat to the ground, without post

or peere, that was left standing, so high as the stake whervnto the

Beare was tied. Although some wil say (and as it may be truly) that

it was very old and rotten and therefore a great waight of people,

being planted vpon it then was wont, that it was no maruaile that it

fayled: and would make it but a light matter. Yet surely if this be

considered, that no peece of post, boord, or stake was left standing:

though we vrge it not as a miracle, yet it must needes be considered

as an extraordinary iudgement of God, both for the punishment of those

present prophaners of the Lordes day that were then, & also informe and

warne vs that were abroad. In the fal of it, there were slaine fiue

men and two women, that are come to knowledge, who they were and where

they dwelled, to wit, _Adam Spencer_ a _Felmonger_, in _Southwarke_,

_William Cockram_ a Baker, dwelling in _Shordich_, _Iohn Burton_

Cleark, of _S. Marie Wolmers_ in _Lombard streat_, _Mathew Mason_,

seruant with Master _Garland_, dwelling in _Southwarke_, _Thomas

Peace_, seruant with _Robert Tasker_, dwelling in _Clerken well_.

The maydens names, _Alice White_, seruant to a Pursemaker without

_Cripplegate_, and _Marie Harrison_, daughter to _Iohn Harrison_, being

a waterbearer, dwelling in _Lombard streat_.’ C i^v. Nowe beside these

that were thus killed out right, with the flat fal of the Galleries,

strangely wrunge in peeces as it were by God himselfe, it could not

bee but in such confusion, there must needes come great hurt to many.

Howe many carried away death, as it were in theyr bosomes, that died

the same night, or some little tyme after, the Lorde knoweth. And we

heare since, though we know not the iust number, that many of them are

dead & buried, and namely one _Web_ a Pewterer his wife that dwelt in

_Limestreete_ who being there sore wounded, is now gon with diuers

others. Of all the multitude there, which must needes be farre aboue

a thousande, it is thought by the iudgement of most people, that not

the third personne escaped vnhurt; and by some that haue made search,

they esteme that there were sore hurt and maimed, aboue one hundred and

fiftye persons, some hauing theyr legs and armes broken, some theyr

backes, theyr bodies beeing sore brused, so that euery way into the

cittie from that time tyll towardes nine of the clocke and past: and

specially ouer _London bridge_, many were carried in Chayres, & led

betwixt their freendes, and so brought home wyth sorrowfull and heauy

heartes lyke lame cripples. They say also that at the first, when the

Scaffolde cracked (as it did once or twise) there was a crye of _fire

fire_, which set them in such a maze as was wonderfull, so that as

destitute of their wits they stood styll, and could make no shifte

for them selues, till the Scaffold was made euen with the ground....

Amongst the rest it is credibly reported that there was one Woman, that

beeing in the Gallery, threw downe her childe before her, & leaped

after herselfe; and yet thankes bee to God neyther of both had any

maner of hurt, so was it with diuers others. But it shoulde appere that

they were most hurt and in danger, which stoode vnder the Galleries on

the grounde, vpon whom both the waight of Timbre and people fel. And

sure it was a miraculous worke of God, that any one of those should

haue escaped. But heere also God shewed his power for one man falling

downe into an hole as if it had beene some sawpit, it pleased God

that it was the meane of his deliuerance, so as all things that fell

vpon him did not touch him, and by that hee was preserued, wheras two

of th’other were slaine of either side of him.’ C. iii. Urges the

magistrates to ‘take order especially on the Sabaoth dayes that no

Cittizen or Cittizens seruauntes haue libertie to repaire vnto any of

those abuse places, that albeit the place be without the Cittie, and

by that meanes they haue not to deale with them, yet that they keepe

theyr _Beares_ out, and their straggling _Wantons_ in, that they may

be better occupied. And as they haue with good commendation so far

preuailed, that vppon Sabaoth dayes these Heathenishe _Enterludes_ and

_Playes_ are banished, so it wyll please them to followe the matter

still, that they may be vtterly rid and taken away. For surely it is

to be feared, beesides the distruction bothe of bodye and soule, that

many are brought vnto, by frequenting the _Theater_, the _Curtin_ and

such like, that one day those places will likewise be cast downe by God

himselfe, & being drawen with them a huge heape of such contempners

and prophane persons vtterly to be killed and spoyled in their bodyes.

God hath giuen them as I haue heard manye faire warninges already....

January 17, 1583.’

xxxii. 1583. PHILLIP STUBBES.

[From _The Anatomie of Abuses: Contayning a Discoverie, or

briefe Summarie of such Notable Vices and Imperfections, as

now raigne in many Christian Countreyes of the Worlde: but

(especiallie) in a verie famous Ilande called Ailgna_ (S. R.

1 Mar. 1583; eds. 1 May 1583, 16 Aug. 1583, 1584, 1585, 1595),

as reprinted by F. J. Furnivall (1877–9, _N. S. S._); other

reprints are by W. D. Turnbull (1836, from 1585) and J. P.

Collier (1870). Stubbes, a layman and Londoner, was author of

various ballads and pamphlets during 1581–93. A second part of

_The Anatomie of Abuses_ (S. R. 7 Nov. 1583) has not been

reprinted.]

The Elizabethan Stage, Vol. 4 · 第 20 / 50 段