IOS and Smyrna were two
sweete Cytties, the first named
of the Violet, the latter of the
Myrrh : Homer was borne
in the one, and buried in the
other ; Your Maiesties iudgement and fauour,
are our Sunne and shadowe, the one comming
of your deepe wisedome, the other of your won-
ted grace. VVee in all humilitie desire, that by
the former, receiuing our first breath, we may
in the latter, take our last rest. Augustus Cæs
had such pearcing eyes,
that who so looked on him, was constrained to
wincke. Your highnesse hathso perfit a iudge-
ment, that what soeuer we offer, we are enfor-
ced to blush ; yet as the Athenians were most
curious, that the Lawne wherewith Minerua
was couered, should be without spotte or wrin-
A.ÿ.kle
The Prologue
kle, so haue we endeuoured with all care, that
what wee present your Highnesse, shoulde ney-
ther offend in Scæne nor sillable, knowing that
as in the ground where Gold groweth, nothing
will prosper but Golde, so in your Maiestes
minde, where nothing doth harbor but vertue,
nothing can enter but vertue.
THE Sunne dooth beate
vppon the playne fieldes,
wherefore let vs sit downe
Gallathea, vnder this faire
Oake, by whose broade
leaues, beeing defended
from the warme beames, we may enioy the fresh ayre,
which softly breathes from Humber floodes.
Father, you haue deuised well, and whilst our
flocke doth roame vp and downe thys pleasant greene,
you shall recount to mee, if it please you, for what cause
thys Tree was dedicated vnto Neptune, and why you
haue thus disguised me.
In tymes past, where thou seest a heape
of small pyble, stoode a stately Temple of white Mar-
ble, which was dedicated to the God of the Sea, (and in
right beeing so neere the Sea) hether came all such as
B.1.eyther
Gallathea_.
eyther ventured by long trauell to see Countries, or by
great traffique to vse merchandise, offering Sacrifice by
fire, to gette safety by water; yeelding thanks for per-
rils past, & making prayers for good successe to come;
but Fortune, constant in nothing but inconstancie, did
change her copie, as the people their custome, for the
Land being oppressed by Danes, who in steed of sacri-
fice, committed sacrilidge, in steede of religion, rebelli-
on, and made a pray of that in which they should haue
made theyr prayers, tearing downe the Temple euen
with the earth, being almost equall with the skyes, en-
raged so the God who bindes the windes in the hol-
lowes of the earth, that he caused the Seas to breake
their bounds, sith men had broke their vowes, and to
swell as farre aboue theyr reach, as men had swarued
beyond theyr reason: then might you see shippes sayle
where sheepe fedde, ankers cast where ploughes goe,
fishermen throw theyr nets, where husbandmen sowe
theyr Corne, and fishes throw their scales where fowles
doe breede theyr quils: then might you gather froth
where nowe is dewe, rotten weedes for sweete roses, &
take viewe of monstrous Maremaides, insteed of pas-
sing faire Maydes.
But at the last, our Country-men repenting,
and not too late, because at last, Neptune either wearie
of his wroth, or warie to doe them wrong, vpon condi-
tion consented to ease theyr miseries.
The condition was this, that at euery fiue
yeeres day, the fairest and chastest virgine in all the
Countrey, should be brought vnto this Tree, & heere
beeing bound, (whom neither parentage shall excuse
for
Gallathea_.
for honour, nor vertue for entegrity) is left for a peace
offering vnto Neptune.
I am not able to say that, but hee sendeth a
Monster called the Agar, against whose comming the
waters rore, the fowles flie away, and the Cattell in the
field for terror, shunne the bankes.
Whether she be deuoured of him, or conuei-
ed to Neptune, or drowned between both, it is not per-
mitted to knowe, and encurreth danger to coniecture;
Now Gallathea heere endeth my tale, & beginneth thy
tragedie.
I would thou hadst beene lesse faire, or more
fortunate, then shouldest thou not repine that I haue
disguised thee in this attyre, for thy beautie will make
thee to be thought worthy of this God; to auoide ther-
fore desteny (for wisedome ruleth the stars) I thinke it
better to vse an vnlawfull meanes (your honour preser-
ued) then intollerable greefe, both life and honor ha-
zarded, and to preuent (if it be possible) thy constella-
tion by my craft. Now hast thou heard the custome of
this Countrey, the cause why thys Tree was dedicated
vnto Neptune, and the vexing care of thy fearefull Fa-
ther.
Father, I haue beene attentiue to heare, and
by your patience am ready to aunswer. Destenie may
be deferred, not preuented; and therefore it were bet-
ter to offer my selfe in tryumph, then to be drawne to
it with dishonour. Hath nature (as you say) made mee
so faire aboue all, and shall not vertue make mee as fa-
B.2.mous
Gallathea_.
mous as others? Doe you not knowe, (or dooth ouer-
carefulnes make you forget) that an honorable death is
to be preferred before an infamous life. I am but a child,
and haue not liued long, and yet not so childish, as I de-
sire to liue euer: vertues I meane to carry to my graue,
not gray haires. I woulde I were as sure that destiny
would light on me, as I am resolued it could not feare
me. Nature hath giueē me beauty, Vertue courage, Na-
ture must yeeld mee death, Vertue honor. Suffer mee
therefore to die, for which I was borne, or let me curse
that I was borne, sith I may not die for it.
Faire boy, or god, or what euer you bee, I
would you knew these woods are to me so wel known,
that I cannot stray though I would, and my minde so
free, that to be melancholy I haue no cause. There is
none of Dianaes trayne that any can traine, either out
A heate full of coldnesse, a sweet full of bit-
ternesse, a paine ful of pleasantnesse, which maketh
thoughts haue eyes, and harts eares, bred by desire, nur-
sed by delight, weaned by ielousie, kild by dissembling,
buried by ingratitude, and this is loue, fayre Lady wil
you any?
I haue neither will nor leysure, but I will fol-
lowe Diana in the Chace, whose virgins are all chast, de-
lighting in the bowe that wounds the swift Hart in the
Forrest, not fearing the bowe that strikes the softe hart
in the Chamber. This difference is betweene my Mi-
stris Diana, and your Mother (as I gesse) Venus, that
all her Nimphes are amiable and wise in theyr kinde,
the other amorous and too kinde for their sexe; and so
farewell little god.
Diana, and thou, and all thine, shall knowe
that Cupid is a great god, I will practise a while in
these woodes, and play such pranckes with these
Nimphes, that while they ayme to hit others with their
Arrowes, they shall be wounded themselues with their
owne eyes.
Come Phillida, faire Phillida, and I feare
me too faire being my Phillida, thou knowest the cu-
stome of this Countrey, & I the greatnes of thy beau-
tie, we both the fiercenesse of the monster Agar. Eue-
rie one thinketh his owne childe faire, but I know that
which I most desire, and would least haue, that thou art
fairest. Thou shalt therefore disguise thy selfe in attire,
least I should disguise my selfe in affection, in suffering
thee to perrish by a fond desire, whom I may preserue
by a sure deceipt.
Deere father, Nature could not make mee so
faire as she hath made you kinde, nor you more kinde
then me dutifull. What soeuer you commaunde I will
not refuse, because you commaund nothing but my sa-
fetie, and your happinesse. But howe shall I be disgui-
sed?
For then I must keepe companie with boyes,
and commit follies vnseemelie for my sexe, or keepe
company with girles, and be thought more wanton
then becommeth me. Besides, I shall be ashamed of my
long hose and short coate, and so vnwarelie blabbe out
something by blushing at euery thing.
I wyll rather hang my selfe on a raughter in
the house, then be so haled in the Sea, there one may
haue a leape for his lyfe; but I maruaile howe our Ma-
ster speedes.
You are now in Lyncolnshire, where you can
want no foule, if you can deuise meanes to catch them,
there be woods hard by, and at euery myles ende hou-
ses: so that if you seeke on the Lande, you shall speede
better then on the Sea.
Sea, nay I will neuer saile more, I brooke not
their diet: their bread is so hard, that one must carrie a
whetstone in his mouth to grinde his teeth: the meate
so salt, that one woulde thinke after dinner his tongue
had beene powdred ten daies.
O thou hast a sweet life Mariner to be pinde
in a few boordes, and to be within an inche of a thing
bottomlesse. I pray thee howe often hast thou beene
drowned?
thought they had beene with the fish, and so by chance
beene caught vp with them in a Nette againe. It were
a shame a little cold water should kill a man of reason,
when you shall ee a poore Mynow lie in it, that hath
no vnderstanding.
Thou art wise from the crowne of thy heade
vpwards; seeke you new fortunes nowe, I will followe
mine olde. I can shift the Moone and the Sunne, and
know by one Carde, what all you cannot do by a whole
payre. The Lode-stone that alwaies holdeth his nose
to the North, the two and thirty poynts for the winde,
the wonders I see woulde make all you blinde: you be
but boyes, I feare the Sea no more then a dish of water.
Why fooles it is but a liquid element, farewell.
Then as you like this I will instruct you in
all our secretes: for there is not a clowte nor carde, nor
boord, nor post, that hath not a speciall name, or singu-
ler nature.
Was there euer such cosening? Come let vs
to the woods, and see what fortune we may haue be-
fore they be made shippes: as for our Maister hee is
drownd.
BLush Gallathea that must frame thy affec-
tion fitte for thy habite, and therefore be
thought immodest, because thou art vnfortunate. Thy
C.1.tender
Gallathea_.
tender yeeres cannot dissemble this deceipt, nor thy
sexe beare it. O woulde the gods had made mee as I
seeme to be, or that I might safelie be what I seeme not.
Thy Father doteth Gallathea, whose blind loue cor-
rupteth his fonde iudgement, and iealous of thy death,
seemeth to dote on thy beauty, whose fonde care carri-
eth his parciall eye as farre from trueth, as his hart is frō
falshood. But why doost thou blame him or blab what
thou art, when thou shouldest onelie counterfet what
thou art not. But whist, heere commeth a ladde: I will
learne of him how to behaue my selfe.
I neither like my gate, nor my garments, the
one vntoward, the other vnfit, both vnseemely. O Phil-
lida, but yonder staieth one, and therefore say nothing.
But ô Phillida.
It is a pretty boy and a faire, hee might well
haue beene a woman, but because he is not, I am glad I
am, for nowe vnder the color of my coate, I shall deci-
pher the follies of their kind.
If I durst trust my face as well as I doe my
habite, I would spend some time to make pastime, for
saie what they will of a mans wit, it is no seconde thing
to be a woman.
My mother said I could be no ladde til I was
twentie yeere olde, nor keepe sheepe till I coulde tell
them; and therefore Ladie neither lad nor sheephearde
is heere.
These boyes are both agreed, either they are
verie pleasant or too peruerse: you were best Ladie
make them tuske these VVoodes, whilst wee stande
with our bowes, and so vse them as Beagles since they
haue so good mouthes.
Nowe Cupid, vnder the shape of a sillie
girle shewe the power of a mightie God. Let Diana
and all her coy Nimphes know, that there is no hart so
chaste but thy bowe can wounde, nor eyes so modest,
but thy brandes can kindle, nor thoughts so staied, but
thy shafts can make wauering, weake and wanton: Cu-
pid though he be a child, is no babie. I will make their
paines my pastimes, & so confound their loues in their
owne sexe, that they shall dote in their desires, delight
in their affections, and practise onely impossibilities.
Whilst I trewant from my mother, I will vse some ty-
ranny in these woodes, and so shall their exercise in foo-
lish loue, be my excuse for running away. I wil see whi-
ther faire faces be alwaies chast, or Dianaes virgins one-
lie modest, els will I spende both my shafts and shyfts,
and then Ladies if you see these daintie Dames intrapt
in loue, saie softlie to your selues, wee may all loue.
Doe sillie Sheepeheards goe about to de-
ceiue great Neptune, in putting on mans attire vppon
women: and Cupid to make sport deceiue them all, by
vsing a vvomans apparell vpon a God, then Neptune
that hast taken sundrie shapes to obtaine loue, stick not
to practise some deceipt to shew thy deitie, and hauing
oftē thrust thy self into the shape of beastes to deceiue
men,
Gallathea_.
men be not coy to vse the shape of a Sheepehearde, to
shew thy selfe a God. Neptune cannot be ouer-reached
by Swaines, himselfe is subtile, and if Diana be ouer-
taken by craft, Cupid is wise. I will into these woodes
and marke all, and in the end will marre all. Exit.
Call you this seeking of fortunes when one
can finde nothing but byrds nestes? would I were out
of these VVoodes, for I shall haue but wodden lucke,
heers nothing but the skreeking of Owles, croking of
Frogs, hissing of Adders, barking of Foxes, walking of
Hagges. But what be these?
Enter Fayries dauncing and playing
and so, Exeunt. I will follow them, to hell I shall not goe, for so faire
faces neuer can haue such hard fortunes. What blacke
boy is this.
What a life doe I leade with my Maister no-
thing but blowing of bellows, beating of spirits, & scra-
ping of Croslets? it is a very secrete Science, for none
almost can vnderstand the language of it. Sublimation,
Almigation, Calcination, Rubification, Encorporati-
on, Circination, Sementation, Albification, and Fre-
mentation. With as many termes vnpossible to be vtte-
red, as the Arte to be compassed.
Then our instruments, Croslets, Subliuato-
ries, Cucurbits, Limbecks, Decensores, Violes, manu-
all and murall, for enbibing and conbibing, Bellowes,
molificatiue and enduratiue.
Then our Mettles, Saltpeeter, Vitrioll, Sal
tartar, Sal perperat, Argon, Resagar, Sal Armonick, E-
grimony, Lumany, Brimstone, Valerian, Tartar Alam,
Breeme-worte, Glasse, Vnsleked lyme, Chalke, A-
shes; hayre; and what not, to make I know not what.
A little more then a man, and a hayres bredth
lesse then a God. He can make of thy cap gold, and by
multiplication of one grote, three old Angels. I haue
knowne him of the tagge of a poynt, to make a siluer
boole of a pint.
Thou art grosse; we call those Spirits that are
the grounds of our Arte, & as it were the mettles more
incorporatiue for domination. The first Spirit is
Quick-siluer.
That is my Spirit, for my siluer is so quicke,
that I haue much a doe to catch it, and when I haue it,
it is so nimble that I cannot holde it; I thought there
was a deuill in it.
Thats a stincking Spirit, I thought there was
some spirit in it because it burnt so blew. For my Mo-
ther would often tell mee that when the candle burnt
blew, there was some ill Spirit in the house, and now I
perceiue it was the spirit Brimstone.
No, such cunning men must disguise them-
selues, as though there were nothing in them for other-
wise they shall be compelled to worke for Princes, and
so be constrained to bewray their secrets.
A pottle pot, nay I dare warrant it a whole
Cupbord of plate: why of the quintessence of a leaden
plummet, he hath framed xx. dozen of siluer Spoones.
Looke howe hee studies, I durst venture my life hee is
nowe casting about, howe of his breath hee may make
golden braselets, for often-times of smoke hee hath
made siluer drops.
That shower did my Master make of a spoone-
full of Tartar-alom, but with the fire of blood, & the
corasiue of the ayre, he is able to make nothing infinit,
but whist he espieth vs.
O my childe, Gryphes make theyr nestes of
gold though their coates are fethers, and we fether our
nestes with Diamonds, though our garments be but
frize. Yf thou knewest the secret of this Science, the
cunning woulde make thee so proude that thou woul-
dest disdaine the outward pompe.
My Maister is so rauisht with his Arte, that
we manie times goe supperlesse to bed, for he wil make
gold of his breade, and such is the drouth of his desire,
that we all wish our very guts were gold.
When in the depth of my skill I determine
to try the vttermost of mine Arte, I am disswaded by
the gods, otherwise, I durst vndertake to make the fire
as it flames, gold, the winde as it blowes, siluer, the wa-
ter as it runnes, lead, the earth as it standes, yron, the
skye, brasse, and mens thoughts, firme mettles.
I am glad of this, for now I shall haue leysure
to runne away; such a bald Arte as neuer was, let him
keepe his newe man, for he shall neuer see his olde a-
gaine; God shelde me from blowing gold to nothing,
with a strong imagination to make nothing any thing.
How now Gallathea? miserable Gallathea,
that hauing put on the apparell of a boy, thou canst al-
so put on the minde. O faire Melebeus, I too faire, and
therefore I feare, proude. Had it not beene better
for thee to haue beene a sacrifice to Neptune, then a slaue to Cupid? to die for thy
Countrey, then to liue in
thy fancie? to be a sacrifice, then a Louer? O woulde
when I hunted his eye with my harte, hee might haue
seene my hart with his eyes. Why did Nature to him a
boy giue a face so faire, or to me a virgine a fortune so
hard? I will now vse for the distaffe the bowe, and play
at quaites abroade, that was wont to sowe in my Sam-
pler at home. It may be Gallathea, foolish Gallathea,
what may be? nothing. Let mee followe him into the
Woods, and thou sweete Venus be my guide. Exit.
Poore Phillida, curse the time of thy birth
and rarenes of thy beautie, the vnaptnes of thy apparel,
and the vntamednes of thy affections. Art thou no soo-
ner in the habite of a boy, but thou must be enamored
of a boy, what shalt thou doe when what best lyketh
thee, most discontenteth thee? Goe into the Woods,
watch the good times, his best moodes, and transgresse
in loue a little of thy modestie, I will, I dare not, thou
must, I cannot. Then pine in thine owne peeuishnes.
I will not, I wil. Ah Phillida doe something, nay anie
thing rather then liue thus. Well, what I will doe, my
selfe knowes not, but what I ought I knowe too well,
and so I goe resolute, eyther to bewray my loue, or suf-
fer shame. Exit.
HOwe nowe? what newe conceits, vvhat
strange contraries breede in thy minde?
is thy Diana become a Venus, thy chast thoughts turnd
to wanton lookes, thy conquering modestie to a cap-
tiue imagination? Beginnest thou with Piralis to die in
the ayre and liue in the fire, to leaue the sweete delight
of hunting, and to followe the hote desire of loue? O
Telusa, these words are vnfit for thy sexe beeing a vir-
gine, but apt for thy affections being a Louer. And can
there in yeeres so young, in education so precise, in
vowes so holy, and in a hart so chaste, enter eyther a
strong desire, or a wish, or a wauering thought of loue?
Can Cupids brands quench Vestas flames, and his fee-
ble shafts headed with feathers, pearce deeper thē Di-
anaes arrowes headed with steele? Breake thy bowe
Telusa that seekest to breake thy vowe, and let those
hands that aymed to hit the wilde Hart, scratche out
those eyes that haue wounded thy tame hart. O vaine
and onely naked name of Chastitie, that is made eter-
nall, and perish by time: holy, and is infected by fancy:
diuine, and is made mortall by folly. Virgins harts I
perceiue are not vnlike Cotton trees, whose fruite is so
hard in the budde, that it soundeth like steele, and bee-
ing rype, poureth forth nothing but wool, and theyr
thoughts like the leaues of Lunary, which the further
they growe from the Sunne, the sooner they are scor-
ched with his beames. O Melebeus, because thou art
fayre, must I be fickle, and false my vowe because I see
thy vertue? Fonde gyrle that I am to thinke of loue,
nay vaine profession that I follow to disdaine loue, but
heere commeth Eurota, I must nowe put on a redde
D.2.maske
Gallathea_.
maske and blushe, least she perceiue my pale face and
laugh.
Telusa, Diana bid me hunt you out, & saith
that you care not to hunt with her, but if you followe
any other Game then she hath rowsd, your punishment
shall be to bend all our bowes, and weaue al our strings.
Why looke ye so pale, so sad, so wildly.
I am no Oedipus to expound riddles, and
I muse how thou canst be Sphinx to vtter them. But I
pray thee Telusa tell mee what thou aylest, if thou be
sicke, this ground hath leaues to heale: if melancholie,
heere are pastimes to vse: if peeuish, wit must weane
it, or time, or counsell. Yf thou be in loue (for I haue
heard of such a beast called loue) it shall be cured, why
blushest thou Telusa?
To heare thee in reckoning my paines to re-
cite thine owne. I sawe Eurota howe amorouslie you
glaunced your eye on the faire boy in the white coate,
and howe cunninglie (now that you would haue some
talke of loue) you hit me in the teeth with loue.
I confesse that I am in loue, and yet sweare
that I know not what it is. I feele my thoughts vnknit,
mine eyes vnstaied, my hart I know not how affected,
or infected, my sleepes broken and full of dreames, my
wakenesse sad and full of sighes, my selfe in all thinges
vnlike my selfe. If this be loue, I woulde it had neuer
beene deuised.
Thou hast told what I am in vttering what
thy selfe is: these are my passions Eurota my vnbridled
passions, my intollerable passions, which I were as good
acknowledge and craue counsell, as to denie and en-
dure perill.
By the eyes, my wanton eyes which concei-
ued the picture of his face, and hangd it on the verie
strings of my hart. O faire Melebeus, ô fonde Telusa,
but how did it take you Eurota?
By the eares, whose sweete words suncke so
deepe into my head, that the remembrance of his wit,
hath bereaued mee of my wisedome, ô eloquent Tyte-
rus, ô credulous Eurota. But soft heere commeth Ra-
mia, but let her not heare vs talke, wee will withdrawe
our selues, and heare her talke.
Can there be no hart so chast, but loue can
wound? nor vowes so holie but affection can violate.
Vaine art thou vertue, & thou chastity but a by word,
when you both are subiect to loue, of all thinges the
most abiect. If Loue be a God, why should not louers
be vertuous? Loue is a God, and Louers are vertuous.
If my selfe felt onelie this infection, I would
then take vpon me the definition, but beeing incident
to so manie, I dare not my selfe describe it, but we will
all talke of that in the Woodes. Diana stormeth that
sending one to seeke another, shee looseth all. Seruia
of all the Nimphes the coyest, loueth deadly, and ex-
D.3.claimeth
Gallathea_.
claimeth against Diana, honoureth Venus, detesteth
Vesta, and maketh a common scorne of vertue. Cly-
mene, whose statelie lookes seemed to amaze the grea-
test Lordes, stoopeth, yeeldeth, and fauneth on the
strange boy in the Woods. My selfe (with blushing I
speak it) am thrall to that boy, that faire boy, that beau-
tifull boy.
So saith Clymene, and shee will haue Him. I
care not, my sweete Tyterus though he seeme proude,
I impute it to childishnes: who beeing yet scarce out
of his swath-clowtes, cannot vnderstande these deepe
conceits; I loue him.
Immodest all that wee are, vnfortunate all
that we are like to be; shall virgins beginne to wrangle
for loue, and become wanton in their thoughts, in their
words, in their actions. O deuine Loue, which art ther-
fore called deuine, because thou ouer-reachest the wi-
sest, conquerest the chastest, and doost all things both
vnlikely and impossible, because thou art Loue. Thou
makest the bashfull impudent, the wise fond, the chast
wanton, and workest contraries to our reach, because
thy selfe is beyond reason.
Suppose I were a virgine (I blush in suppo-
sing my selfe one) and that vnder the habite of a boy
were the person of a mayde, if I should vtter my affec-
tion with sighes, manifest my sweete loue by my salte
teares, and proue my loyaltie vnspotted, and my griefes
intollerable, would not then that faire face, pittie thys
true hart?
Admit that I were, as you woulde haue mee
suppose that you are, and that I should with intreaties,
prayers, othes, bribes, and what euer can be inuented in
I haue knowne diuers of Dianaes Nimphes
enamored of him, yet hath he reiected all, eyther as too
proude to disdaine, or too childish not to vnderstande,
or for that he knoweth himselfe to be a Virgin.
I am in a quandarie, Dianaes Nimphes haue
followed him, and he despised them, eyther knowing
too well the beautie of his owne face, or that himselfe
is of the same moulde. I will once againe try him. You
promised me in the woode, that you would loue me be-
fore all Dianaes Nimphes.
My boy was the veriest theefe, the aran-
test lyar, and the vildest swearer in the worlde, other-
wise the best boy in the world, he hath stolen my appa-
rell, all my money, and forgot nothing but to bid mee
farewell.
I would I had not known the beginning. Did
not you promise mee, of my siluer thimble to make a
whole cupboord of plate, and that of a Spanish needle
you would build a siluer steeple?
I Rafe, the fortune of this Arte consisteth
in the measure of the fire, for if there be a cole too
much, or a sparke too little, if it be a little too hote, or
a thought too softe, all our labour is in vaine; besides,
they that blowe, must beate tyme with theyr breathes,
as Musicions doe with their breasts, go as there must be
of the mettals, the fire and workers a verie harmonie.
Nay if you must weigh your fire by ounces, &
take measure of a mans blast, you may then make of a
dramme of winde a wedge of gold, and of the shadowe
of one shilling make another, so as you haue an Orga-
nist to tune your temperatures.
An arte quoth you, that one multiplieth so
much all day, that he wanteth money to buy meate at
night? But what haue we yonder? what deuoute man?
he will neuer speake till he be vrged. I wil salute him.
Sir, there lieth a purse vnder your feete, if I thought it
were not yours, I would take it vp.
Ipsissimus. I can tell the minute of thy byrth,
the moment of thy death, and the manner. I can tel thee
what wether shall be betweene this and Octogessimus
octauus mirabilis annus. When I list I can sette a trap for
the Sunne, catch the Moone with lyme-twigges, and
goe a batfowling for starres. I can tell thee things past,
and things to come, & with my cunning, measure how
many yards of Clowdes are beneath the Skye. Nothing
can happen which I fore-see not, nothing shall.
I will heare no more signes, if they be all such
desperate signes: but seeing you are, (I know not who
to terme you) shall I serue you? I would faine serue.
Happie am I, for now shall I reach thoughts,
and tell how many drops of water goes to the greatest
showre of rayne. You shall see me catch the Moone in
the clips like a Conny in a pursnet.
I wil meddle no more with numbring of gold,
for multiplication is a miserable action; I pray sir what
wether shall we haue this howre three-score yeere?
That I must cast by our Iudicials Astrono-
micall, therefore come in with me, and thou shall see e-
uerie wrinkle of my Astrologicall wisedome, and I will
make the Heauens as plaine to thee as the high waie,
thy cunning shall sitte cheeke by iole with the Sunnes
Chariot; then shalt thou see what a base thing it is, to
haue others thoughts creepe on the grounde, when as
thine shall be stitched to the starres.
O fortune. I feele my very braines moralized,
and as it were a certaine contempt of earthly actions is
crept into my minde, by an etheriall contemplation.
Come let vs in.
What newes haue we heere Ladies, are all
in loue? are Dianaes Nimphes become Venus wan-
tons? is it a shame to be chast, because you be amiable?
or must you needes be amorous, because you are faire?
O Venus, if thys be thy spight, I will require it wyth
more then hate, well shalt thou know what it is to drib
thine arrowes vp and downe Dianaes leies. There is an
vnknowne Nimph that straggleth vp and downe these
woods,
which I suspect hath beene the weauer of these
woes, I saw her slumbring by the brooke side, go search
her & bring
her, if you find vpon her shoulder a burne,
it is Cupid: if any print on her backe like a leafe, it is
Medea: if any picture on her left breast like a birde, it
is Calipso; who euer it be, bring her hether, and spee-
dilie bring her hether.
Nowe Ladies, dooth not that make your
cheekes blushe, that makes mine eares glowe? or can
you remember that without sobs, which Diana can not
thinke on without sighes? What greater dishonour
could happen to Diana, or to her Nimphes shame,
then that there can be any time so idle, that
shold make
their heads so addle? Your chast harts my Nimphes,
should resemble the Onix, which is hotest when it is
whitest, and your thoughts, the more they
are assaul-
ted with desires, the lesse they should be affected. You
should thinke loue like Homers Moly, a white leafe &
a blacke roote, a faire shewe,
and a bitter taste. Of all
Trees the Cedar is greatest, and hath the smallest
seedes: of all
affecttions, loue hath the greatest name, &
the
Gallathea_.
the least vertue. Shall it be said, and shall Venus say
it?
nay shall it be seene, and shall wantons see it? that Di-
ana the goddesse of chastity,
whose thoughts are al-
waies answerable to her vowes, whose eyes neuer
glan-
ced on desire, and whose hart abateth the poynt of Cu-
pids arrowes, shall haue her virgins to become vnchast
in desires, immoderate in affection, vntemperate in
loue, in foolish loue, in base loue. Eagles cast their euill
feathers in the Sunne, but you cast your best desires v-
pon a shadowe. The birdes Ibes lose their sweetnesse
when they lose theyr sights, and virgins all theyr ver-
tues with theyr vnchast thoughts, vnchast, Diana cal-
leth that, that hath eyther any showe or suspicion of
lightnesse. O my deere Nimphes, if you knewe howe
louing thoughts staine louely faces, you woulde bee as
careful to haue the one as vnspotted as the other beau-
tiful.
Cast before your eyes the loues of Venus truls, their
fortunes, theyr fancies, their ends. What are they els
but Silenus pictures, without, Lambes & Doues, with
in, Apes, and Owles, who like Ixion imbrace clowdes
for Iuno, the shadowes of vertue in steede of the sub-
stance. The Eagles fethers consume the fethers of
all o-
thers, and loues desire corrupteth all other vertues. I
blush Ladies that you hauing beene heretofore patient
of labours, should nowe become prentises to idlenesse,
and vse the penne for Sonets, not the needle for Sam-
plers. And howe is your loue placed, vppon pelting
boyes, perhaps base of birth, without doubt weake of
discretion. I but they are fayre. O Ladies doe your eyes
begin to loue collours, whose harts was wont to loath
them? is Dianaes Chase become Venus Courte? and
are your holy vowes turnd to hollow thoughts?
And thou shalt see Cupid that I will shewe
my selfe to be Diana, that is, Conquerer of thy loose &
vntamed appetites. Did thy mother Venus vnder the
colour of a Nimphe, sende thee hether to wounde my
Nimphes? Doth she adde craft to her malice, and mis-
trusting her deitie, practise deceite: is
there no place
but my Groues, no persons but my Nimphes? Cruell
and vnkind Venus, that spighteth onely chastitie, thou
shalt see that Dianaes power shal reuenge thy pollicie,
and tame thys pride. As for thee Cupid, I will breake
thy bowe, and burne thine arrowes, binde thy handes,
clyp thy wings, and fetter thy feete. Thou that fattest
others with hopes, shalt be fedde thy selfe with wishes,
& thou that bindest others with golden thoughts, shalt
be bound thy selfe with golden fetters. Venus rods are
made of Roses, Dianaes of Bryers. Let Venus that great
Goddesse, raunsome Cupid that little God. These La-
dies heere whom thou hast infected with foolish loue,
shall both tread on thee and triumph ouer thee. Thine
own
Gallathea_.
owne arrow shall be shot into thine owne bosome, and
thou shalt be inamored, not on Psiches, but on Circes.
I will teach thee what it is to displease Diana, distresse
her Nimphes, or disturbe her Game.
Are you prating? I will bridle thy tongue &
thy power, and in spight of mine owne thoughts, I
will sette thee a taske euery day, which if thou finish
not, thou shalt feele the smart. Thou shalt be
vsed as
Dianaes slaue, not Venus sonne. All the worlde
shall
see that I will vse thee like a captiue, and shew my
selfe
a Conquerer. Come haue him in, that wee may deuise
apt punishments for his proude presumptions.
THis is the day wherein you must satis-fie
Neptune and saue
your selues, call toge-
ther your fayre Daughters, and for a
Sacrifice take the
fayrest, for better it is to offer a
Virgine then suffer ru-
ine. If you think it against nature to sacrifice your chil-
dren,
thinke it also against sence to destroy your Coun-
trey. If you imagine
Neptune pittilesse to desire such a
pray, confesse your selues peruerse to
deserue such a
punishment. You see
this tree, this fatall Tree, whose
leaues though they glister like golde, yet it threatneth
to fayre virgins griefe. To this Tree must the beauti-
fullest
Gallathea_.
fullest be bounde vntill the Monster Agar carry her a-
waie, and if the Monster come not, then assure your
selues that the fairest is concealed, and then your coun-
trey shall be destroyed, therefore consult with your
selues, not as fathers of children, but as fauourers of
your Countrey. Let Neptune haue his right if you will
haue your quiet; thus haue I warned you to be care-
full, and would wish you to be wise, knowing that who
so hath the fairest daughter, hath the greatest fortune,
in loosing one to saue all, and so I depart to prouide ce-
remonies for the Sacrifice, and commaund you to bring
the Sacrifice.
Exit Augur.
They say Tyterus that you haue a faire daugh-
ter, if it be
so, dissemble not, for you shall be a fortu-
nate father. It is a thing holy to preserue ones Country,
and honorable to be the cause.
In deede Melebeus I haue heard you boast
that you had a faire daughter, thèn the which none was
more beautiful. I hope you are not so careful of a child,
that you will be carelesse of your Countrey, or adde so
much to nature, that you will detract from wisedome.
I must confesse that I had a daughter, and I
knowe you haue, but alas my Childes cradle was her
graue, and her swath-clowte her winding sheete. I
would she had liued til now, she should
willingly haue
died now; for what could haue happened to pore Me-
lebeus more comfortable, then to bee the father of a
fayre child and sweet Countrey.
O Mellebeus, dissemble you may with mē,
deceiue the Gods you cannot, dyd not I see, (and very
lately see) your daughter in your armes, when as you
gaue her infinite kisses, with affection I feare mee more
then fatherly. You haue conueyed her away, that you
might cast vs all away, bereauing her the honour of her
beauty, and vs the benefite, preferring a common in-
It is a bad cloth Tyterus that will take no co-
lour, and a simple Father that can vse no cunning, you
make the people beleeue that you wish well, when you
practise nothing but ill, wishing to be thought religi-
ous towards the Gods, when I knowe you deceitful to-
wards men. You cannot ouer-reach me Tyterus, ouer-
shoote your selfe you may. It is a wilie Mouse that will
breede in the Cats eare, and hee must halt cunninglie,
that will deceiue a Cripple. Did you euer see me kisse
my Daughter? you are deceiued, it was my wife. And
if you thought so young a peece vnfit for so old a per-
son, and therefore imagined it to be my childe, not my
spouse, you must knowe that siluer haires delight in
golden lockes, and the olde fancies craue young Nur-
ses, and frostie yeeres must bee thawed by youthfull
fyers. But this matter set aside, you haue a faire daugh-
ter Tyterus, and it is pittie you are so fond a Father.
be vndoone with hands, made fast with thoughts, and
cannot be vnlosed with fingers, had Diana no taske to
set Cupid to but things impossible, I wil to it.
It was because I neuer tide them, the one was
knit by Pluto, not Cupid, by money, not loue, the other
by force, not faith, by appointment, not affection.
Come let vs goe in, and tell that Cupid hath
doone his taske, stay you behind Larissa, and see hee
sleepe not, for Loue will be idle, and take heede you
surfette not, for loue will be wanton.
Exit Telusa.
O Venus, if thou sawest Cupid as a captiue,
bound to obey that was wont to commaunde, fearing
Ladies threates, that once pearced their harts, I cannot
tell whether thou wouldest reuenge it for despight, or
laugh at it for disport. The time may come Diana, and
the time shall come, that thou that settest Cupid to vn-
doe knots, shall intreate Cupid to tye knots, and you
Ladies that with solace haue behelde my paines, shall
with sighes intreate my pittie.
Come Cupid, Diana hath deuised newe la-
bours for you that are God of loues, you shall weaue
Samplers all night, and lackie after Diana all day. You
shall shortlie shoote at beastes for men, because you
haue made beastes of men, & waight on Ladies traines,
because thou intrappest Ladies by traines. All the sto-
ries that are in Dianaes Arras, which are of loue, you
must picke out with your needle, & in that place sowe
Vesta with her Nuns, and Diana with her Nimphes.
How like you this Cupid.
Thys day is the solemne Sacrifice at thys
Tree, wherein the fairest virgine (were not the inhabi-
tants faithlesse) should be offered vnto me, but so ouer
carefull are Fathers to their children, that they forgette
the safetie of their Countrey, & fearing to become vn-
naturall, become vnreasonable; their slights may bleere
men, deceiue me they cannot, I wil be here at the houre,
and shew as great crueltie as they haue doone craft, &
well shall they know that Neptune should haue beene
intreated, not cosened. Exit.
Because I dreamt that if I were there, I shold
be turned to a virgine, and then being so faire (as thou
saist I am) I
shoulde be offered as thou knowest one
must. But will not you be there.
I will. Poore Phillida, what shouldest thou
thinke of thy selfe, that louest one that I feare mee, is as
thy selfe is; and may it not be, that her Father practi-
zed the same deceite with her, that my Father hath
with me, and knowing her to be fayre, feared she shold
be vnfortunate, if it be so, Phillida how desperate is thy
case? if it be not, howe doubtfull? For if she be a May-
den there is no hope of my loue, if a boy, a hazarde: I
will after him or her, and leade a melancholie life, that
looke for a miserable death.
NO more Maisters now, but a Mistrisse if
I can light on her. An Astronomer? of all
occupations thats the worst, yet well
fare the Alcu-
mist, for he keepes good
fires though he gets no golde,
the other standes warming himselfe by staring on the
starres, which I think he can as soone number as know
their vertues. He told me a long tale of Octogessimus
octauus, and the meeting of the Coniunctions & Pla-
nets, and in the meane-time he fell backwarde himselfe
into a ponde. I askt him why he fore-sawe not that by
the starres, he said hee knewe it, but contemnd it. But
soft, is not this my brother Robin?
Could he doe it quoth you? why man, I sawe
a prettie wench come to his shoppe,
where with puf-
fing, blowing, and sweating, he so plyed her,
that hee
multiplyed her.
Why man I serued a fortune-teller, who saide
I should liue to see my Father
hangd, and both my bro-
thers beg. So I conclude the Mill
shall be mine, and I
liue by imagination still.
Thy Maister was an Asse, and lookt on
the
lines of thy hands, but my other Maister was an Astro-
nomer, which could picke my
natiuitie out of the stars.
I shoulde haue halfe a dozen starres in my pocket if I
haue not lost them, but heere they be. Sol, Saturne, Iu-
piter, Mars, Venus.
I, but by these he gathereth, that I was a Io-
ualist, borne of a Thursday, & that I should be a braue Venerian, and gette all my good lucke on a Fryday.
O Robin, Venus orta mari, Venus was borne of
the Sea, the Sea will haue fishe, fishe must haue wine,
wine will haue flesh, for Caro carnis genus est muliebre:
but soft, heere commeth that notable villaine,
that once
preferd me to the Alcumist.
Twas warme indeede, for the fire had almost
burnt out mine eyes, and yet my teeth still watred with
hungar: so that my seruice was both too
whote & too
cold. I melted all my meate, and made onely my slum-
ber thoughts, and so had a full head and an empty bel-
lie. But where hast thou beene
since?
Nay if he be both our cozens, I will bee hys
great Grand-father, and Robin shall
be his Vncle, but I
pray thee bring vs to him quickly, for I am great belli-
ed with conceite till I see him.
Heere shee commeth, accompanied onelie
with men, because it
is a sight vnseemely (as all virgins
say) to see the
mis-fortune of a mayden, and terrible to
behold the fiercenes of Agar that Monster.
Myserable and accursed Haebe, that
beeing
neither faire nor fortunate, thou shouldest be thought
most happy and beautifull. Curse thy
birth, thy lyfe,
thy death, beeing borne to liue in danger, and hauing
liude, to
die by deceit. Art thou the sacrifice to appease
Neptune, and
satis-fie the custome, the bloodie cu-
stom, ordained for the safetie of thy Country. I Haebe,
poore Haebe, men
will haue it so, whose forces com-
maund
our weake natures, nay the Gods wil haue it so,
whose powers
dally with our purposes. The Egipti-
ans
neuer cut their Dates from the tree, because they
are so
fresh and greene. It is thought wickednes to pul
Roses from the stalkes in the Garden of Palestine, for
that they haue so liuelie a redde: and who so cutteth
the
incense Tree in Arabia before it fal, committeth sa-
criledge.
Shall it onely be lawfull amongst vs in the prime
of youth,
and pride of beautie, to destroy both youth
and beautie: and
what was honoured in fruites and
flowres as a vertue, to violate in a virgine as a
vice? But
alas destenie alloweth no dispute, die Haebe, Haebe die,
wofull Haebe, and onely accursed Haebe. Farewell the
sweete delights of life, and welcome nowe the
bitter
pangs of death. Fare-well you chast virgins, whose
thoughts are diuine, whose faces
faire, whose fortunes
are agreeable to your affections, enioy
and long enioy
the pleasure of your curled locks, the
amiablenesse of
G.1.your
Gallathea_.
your wished lookes, the sweetnes of your tuned voices,
the
content of your inwarde thoughts, the pompe of
your outward showes, onely Haebe
biddeth farewell to
all the ioyes that she conceiued, and you hope for, that
shee
possessed, and you shall; fare-well
the pompe of
Princes Courts, whose roofes are imbosst with golde,
and whose pauements are
decked with faire Ladies,
where the daies are spent in sweet delights, the nights
in pleasant dreames, where chastitie
honoreth affecti-
ons, and commaundeth, yeeldeth to desire and conque-
reth.
Fare-well the Soueraigne of all vertue, and God-
desse of all virgins, Diana, whose
perfections are impos-
sible to be numbred, and therefore
infinite, neuer to be
matched, and therefore immortall. Fare-well sweet Pa-
rents, yet to be mine, vnfortunate Parents. Howe bles-
sed had you beene in barrennes? how happy had I been
if I had not beene. Fare-well life, vaine life, wretched
life, whose sorrowes are long, whose ende doubtfull,
whose miseries certaine, whose hopes innumerable,
whose feares
intollerable. Come death, and welcome
death whom nature cannot resist, because necessity ru-
leth, nor deferre because destenie hasteth. Come Agar
thou vnsatiable Monster of Maidens blood, &
douou-
rer of beauties bowels, glut thy selfe till thou
surfet, &
let my life end thine. Teare these tender
ioynts wyth
thy greedie iawes, these yellow lockes with thy
black
feete, this faire face with thy foule teeth. Why abatest
thou thy wonted swiftnesse? I am faire, I am a
virgine, I
am readie. Come Agar thou horrible monster, &
fare-
well world thou viler Monster.
Fortunate Haebe, howe shalt thou expresse
thy ioyes? Nay
vnhappy girle that art not the fairest.
Had it not been better for thee to haue died with fame,
then to liue with dishonour, to haue preferred the safe-
tie of thy Countrey and rarenesse of thy beautie, before
sweetnes of life, &
vanity of the world? But alas, desteny
would not haue it so,
desteny coulde not, for it asketh
the
beautifullest, I would Haebe thou hadst been beau-
tifullest.
I am glad he doth not tho, because if he did, I
should haue
also cause to feare. But soft, what
man or
God is this? Let vs closely withdrawe our selues into
the Thickets,
And doe men beginne to bee equall with
Gods, seeking by craft to ouer-reach thē that by power
ouer-see them? Doe they dote so much on
their daugh-
ters, that they stick not to dallie with our
deities, well
shall the inhabitants see, that destinie cannot
be pre-
uented by craft, nor my anger be appeased by submis-
sion. I will make hauocke
of Dianaes Nimphes, my
Temple shall bee died with Maydens blood, and there
shal be
nothing more vile then to be a Virgine. To be
young and fayre, shall be accounted
shame & punish-
ment, in so much as
it shall be thought as dishonorable
to be honest, as fortunate to be deformed.
O Neptune, hast thou forgotten thy selfe, or
wilt thou cleane for-sake mee? Hath Diana therfore
brought danger to her Nimphes, because they be chast?
shal vertue suffer
both paine and shame which alwaies
deserueth praise and honor?
Prayse and honour (Neptune) nothing lesse,
except it be commendable to be coy, and honorable to
be peeuish. Sweet Neptune, if Venus can do any thing,
let her try it in this one thing, that Diana may finde as
small comfort at thy hands, as Loue
hath found curte-
sie at hers.
This is shee that hateth sweete delights, enuieth
louing desires, masketh wanton eyes, stoppeth amo-
rous eares, bridleth youthfull mouthes, and vnder a
name, or a worde
constancie, entertaineth all kinde of
crueltie: shee hath
taken my sonne Cupid, Cupid my
louely
Gallathea_.
louely sonne, vsing him like a prentise, whypping him
like a slaue, scorning him like a beast, therefore Nep-
tune I intreate thee by no other
God, then the God of
loue, that thou euill intreate this Goddesse of hate.
I say there is nothing more vaine, then to
dispute with
Venus, whose vntamed affections haue
bred more brawles in
heauen, then is fitte to repeate in
earth, or possible to
recount in number, I haue Cupid,
and will keepe him, not to dandle in my lappe,
whom I
abhor in my hart, but to laugh him to scorne, that hath
made in my virgins
harts such deepe scarres.
Scarres Diana call you them that I know to
be bleeding woundes? alas weake
deitie, it stretcheth
not so farre, both to abate the sharpnesse of his Ar-
rowes and to heale the hurts. No,
Loues woundes when they seeme greene, rankle, and hauing a smooth
skinne without,
fester to the death within. Therefore
Neptune, if euer
Venus stoode thee in steed, furthe-
red thy fancies, or shall
at all times be at thy comaund,
let eyther Diana bring her
Virgins to a continuall
massacre, or release Cupid of his martyrdome.
It is knowne Venus, that your tongue is
as vnrulie as your thoughts, and your
thoughts as vn-
staied as your eyes, Diana cannot chatter,
Venus can-
not chuse.
It is an honour for Diana to haue Venus
meane ill, when she so speaketh well, but
you shal see
I come not to trifle, therefore once againe Neptune, if
that be not
buried, which can neuer die, fancie, or that
quenched which must euer burne, affection, shew thy
selfe the same Neptune that I knew thee
to bee when
G.3.thou
Gallathea_.
thou wast a Sheepe-hearde, and let not Venus wordes
be vaine in thyne eares, since thyne were imprinted in
my hart.
It were vnfitte that Goddesses shoulde
striue, and it were
vnreasonable that I shold not yeeld,
and therefore to
please both, both attend; Diana I must
honor, her vertue deserueth no lesse, but Venus I must
loue, I must confesse so much.
Diana, restore Cupid to Venus, and I will for euer
release the sacrifice of Virgins, if therefore you loue
your Nimphes as shee doth her Sonne, or preferre not
a priuate grudge before a common griefe, aunswere
what you will doe.
I account not the choyse harde, for had I
twentie Cupids, I
woulde deliuer them all to saue one
Virgine, knowing loue to be a thing of all the
vainest,
virginitie to be a vertue of all the noblest. I yeeld, La-
rissa, bring out Cupid: and now shall it be saide, that
Cupid saued those he thought to spoyle.
Comming through Dianaes woodes, and see-
ing so manie fayre
faces with fonde hearts, I thought
for my sport to make them smart, and so was
taken by
Diana.
I but it skilleth not, I beare nowe myne Ar-
rowes in mine
eyes, my Winges on my thoughts, my
brandes in myne eares, my bowe in my mouth, so
as I
can wounde with looking, flye with thinking, burne
with hearing, shoote with
speaking.
I had thought that in the attyre of a boy,
there could not haue lodged the body
of a Virgine, &
so was inflamed with a sweete desire,
which now I find
a sower deceit.
An idle choyce, strange, and foolish, for
one Virgine to
doate on another, and to imagine a con-
stant faith, where
there can be no cause of affection.
Howe like you this
Venus?
I like well and allowe it, they shall both be
possessed of their wishes, for neuer shall it
be said that
Nature or Fortune shall ouer-throwe Loue, and Fayth.
Is your loues
vnspotted, begunne with trueth, con-
tinued wyth constancie, and not to bee altered tyll
death?
What is to Loue or the Mistrisse of
loue vn-
possible? Was it not Venus that
did the like to Iphis
and Iauthes; howe say yee are ye agreed, one to bee a
boy
presently?
GOE all, tis I onely that conclude al. You
Ladies may see, that Venus can make
constancie ficklenes, courage cowardice, modestie
lightnesse, working things impossible in your Sexe,
and tempering hardest harts like softest wooll. Yeelde
Ladies, yeeld to
loue Ladies, which lurketh vnder your
eye-lids whilst you
sleepe, and plaieth with your hart
strings whilst you wake:
whose sweetnes neuer bree-
deth
satietie, labour wearinesse, nor greefe bitternesse.
Cupid was begotten in a miste,
nursed in Clowdes, and
sucking onelie vpon conceits.
Confesse him a Conque-
rer, whom yee
ought to regarde, sith it is vnpossible to
resist, for this is infallible, that Loue conquereth all
things but it
selfe, and Ladies all harts but their owne.
FINIS.
H.2.
Prosopography
Abby Flight
Remediator and encoder, 2024–present. Abby Flight completed her BA in English at the
University of Victoria in 2024, and is now an MA student focusing on Medieval and
Early Modern Studies.
Chloe Mee
Chloe Mee (she/her) worked as a research assistant with the LEMDO team over several
periods from 2022 to 2025. She graduated from the University of Victoria in 2025 with
a BA (Hons with distinction) in English. She will be studying at the University of
British Columbia to complete her MA in English. Chloe collaborated with the LEMDO
team on a VKURA internship in summer 2022, mainly focusing on Hamlet quartos. Following
her internship, she also worked as a research assistant in 2022–23 and 2025.
David Bevington
David Bevington was the Phyllis Fay Horton Distinguished Service Professor Emeritus
in the Humanities at the University of Chicago. His books include From Mankind to Marlowe (1962), Tudor Drama and Politics (1968), Action Is Eloquence (1985), Shakespeare: The Seven Ages of Human Experience (2005), This Wide and Universal Theater: Shakespeare in Performance, Then and Now (2007), Shakespeare’s Ideas (2008), Shakespeare and Biography (2010), and Murder Most Foul: Hamlet Through the Ages (2011). He was the editor of Medieval Drama (1975), The Bantam Shakespeare, and The Complete Works of Shakespeare. The latter was published in a seventh edition in 2014. He was a senior editor of
the Revels Student Editions, the Revels Plays, The Norton Anthology of Renaissance Drama, and The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Ben Jonson (2012). Professor Bevington passed away on August 2, 2019.
Janelle Jenstad
Janelle Jenstad is a Professor of English at the University of Victoria, Director
of The Map of Early Modern London, and Director of Linked Early Modern Drama Online. With Jennifer Roberts-Smith and Mark Beatrice Kaethler, she co-edited Shakespeare’s Language in Digital Media: Old Words, New Tools (Routledge). She has edited John Stow’s A Survey of London (1598 text) for MoEML and is currently editing The Merchant of Venice (with Stephen Wittek) and Heywood’s 2 If You Know Not Me You Know Nobody for DRE. Her articles have appeared in Digital Humanities Quarterly, Elizabethan Theatre, Early Modern Literary Studies, Shakespeare Bulletin, Renaissance and Reformation, and The Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies. She contributed chapters to Approaches to Teaching Othello (MLA); Teaching Early Modern Literature from the Archives (MLA); Institutional Culture in Early Modern England (Brill); Shakespeare, Language, and the Stage (Arden); Performing Maternity in Early Modern England (Ashgate); New Directions in the Geohumanities (Routledge); Early Modern Studies and the Digital Turn (Iter); Placing Names: Enriching and Integrating Gazetteers (Indiana); Making Things and Drawing Boundaries (Minnesota); Rethinking Shakespeare Source Study: Audiences, Authors, and Digital Technologies (Routledge); and Civic Performance: Pageantry and Entertainments in Early Modern London (Routledge). For more details, see janellejenstad.com.
Joan Broome
Joan Broome (fl.1591–1601) was a London publisher and the first woman to publish a
playbook. Open-access sources on her life and work: British Book Trade Index.
John Charlewood
John Charlewood (d.1593) was a London printer and member of the Grocers’ Company.
His widow, Alice Charlewood, married John Roberts. Open-access sources on his life
and work: Wikipedia, British Book Trade Index, and MoEML.
John Lyly
Kate LeBere
Project Manager, 2020–2021. Assistant Project Manager, 2019–2020. Textual Remediator
and Encoder, 2019–2021. Kate LeBere completed her BA (Hons.) in History and English
at the University of Victoria in 2020. During her degree she published papers in The Corvette (2018), The Albatross (2019), and PLVS VLTRA (2020) and presented at the English Undergraduate Conference (2019), Qualicum History
Conference (2020), and the Digital Humanities Summer Institute’s Project Management
in the Humanities Conference (2021). While her primary research focus was sixteenth
and seventeenth century England, she completed her honours thesis on Soviet ballet
during the Russian Cultural Revolution. She is currently a student at the University
of British Columbia’s iSchool, working on her masters in library and information science.
Mahayla Galliford
Project manager, 2025-present; research assistant, 2021-present. Mahayla Galliford
(she/her) graduated with a BA (Hons with distinction) from the University of Victoria
in 2024. Mahayla’s undergraduate research explored early modern stage directions and
civic water pageantry. Mahayla continues her studies through UVic’s English MA program
and her SSHRC-funded thesis project focuses on editing and encoding girls’ manuscripts,
specifically Lady Rachel Fane’s dramatic entertainments, in collaboration with LEMDO.
Navarra Houldin
Training and Documentation Lead 2025–present. LEMDO project manager 2022–2025. Textual
remediator 2021–present. Navarra Houldin (they/them) completed their BA with a major
in history and minor in Spanish at the University of Victoria in 2022. Their primary
research was on gender and sexuality in early modern Europe and Latin America. They
are continuing their education through an MA program in Gender and Social Justice
Studies at the University of Alberta where they will specialize in Digital Humanities.
Sarah Fowler
Sarah Fowler is a fourth-year undergraduate student in the English Honours program
at the University of Victoria. She is encoding the early editions of Gallathea as a part of her work for the Jamie Cassels Undergraduate Research Project under
Janelle Jenstad.
Orgography
Humanities Media and Computing Centre (HCMC1)
https://hcmc.uvic.ca
The Humanities Computing and Media Centre (HCMC)
at the University of Victoria has an international reputation developing projects
in
collaboration with researchers and instructors from UVic’s Faculty of Humanities,
with
particular expertise in the fields of digital humanities and language learning.
LEMDO Team (LEMD1)
The LEMDO Team is based at the University of Victoria and normally comprises the project
director, the lead developer, project manager, junior developers(s), remediators,
encoders, and remediating editors.
University of Victoria (UVIC1)
https://www.uvic.ca/
Metadata
Authority title
Gallathea As it was playde before the Queenes Maiestie at
Greene-wiche, on Newyeeres day at night. By the Chyldren of Paules.
Type of text
Primary Source
Publisher
University of Victoria on the Linked Early Modern Drama Online platform
Series
Source
Quarto 1, 1592
Old URI:
https://internetshakespeare.uvic.ca/doc/Gal_M/complete/index.html
Base facsimile used for transcription from the Huntington Library
Converted from EEBO-TCP A06619 and remediated by Sarah Fowler and the LEMDO Team.
Editorial declaration
Edition
Released with LEMDO Classroom 0.2.1
Sponsor(s)
Digital Renaissance Editions
Anthology Leads and Co-Coordinating Editors: Brett Greatley-Hirsch, Janelle Jenstad,
James Mardock, and Sarah Neville.
Encoding description
Document status
TCP-TEI_proofing
Funder(s)
Jamie Cassels Undergraduate Research Scholarship Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada
