The text below is a copy of Grosart's edition of 'The Trimming of Thomas Nashe Gentleman' by Richard Lichfield, first published in 1597. Grosart included it in his edition of 'Works of Gabriel Harvey', mistakenly believing Harvey had written it under a pen name. There was in fact a real Cambridge humorist and barber-surgeon called Richard Lichfield, and modern scholars do not doubt he wrote this work. Lichfield produced it as a riposte to Nashe's virulent anti-Harvey pamphlet, 'Have with You to Saffron Walden' (1596), which with some insolence Nashe had dedicated to him. Please bear in mind I copied this text without benefit of proofreader, and though I've checked it myself for errors it can't be considered entirely reliable. I'm also unable to reproduce many features of the original which Grosart indicated, for example the use of a long 's' at the beginning and middle of words, printers' ornaments, tittles over letters, Greek font etc. I have tried faithfully to give italics wherever Grosart used them. Grosart notes he based his edition on a version in the Huth Library, adding that "a second exemplar is in the British Museum". Recourse to these, or to a printed edition of Grosart would naturally be preferable, but in view of the difficulty of laying hold of this work it seems worthwhile to make an e-text available. |
THETRIMMINGof Thomas Nashe, Gentleman, by the high-tituled patron Don |
1597 |
Eme, perlege, nec te precii pænitebit. To the simple Buy mee, read me through and thou wilt not repente thee of thy cost. |
To the Gentle Reader. Proface gentle Ge~tlemen, I am sorry I haue no better Cates to preset you with : but pardon I pray you, for this which I haue heere prouided, was bred in Lent, and Lent (you know) is said of leane, because it macerates & makes leane the bodye : if therefore this dish bee leane and nothing answearable to your expectation, let it suffice twas bred in Lent : neither had it anye time wherein it might gather anye thinge vnto it selfe to make it more fat and delightfull. His Epistle I expected any time these three yeares, but this mine aunswer sine fuco loquar, (though it be not /worthy to bee called the worke of one well spent houre) I haue wrought foorth out of the stolne houres of three weekes : for although occasion hath been offered euer since the Epistle hath been extant, to answere it : yet held in suspence considering the man, and matter, whether I should take it vpon mee or no : at last concluding him easily answerable, I haue vndergone it : therefore howsoeuer you see it crept abroad Gentles, receiue it well in worth : Your fauours happily might adde strength vnto it, and stirre vp the faint creeping steps to a more liuely pace : it by hard hap being denied of the progresse, keeping at home hath growne somewhat greater. To tell you what the man is, and the reason of this book, were but triuiall and superfluous, only this, you may call it The trimming of Thomas Nashe, wherein hee is described. In trimming of which description, though I haue founde out and fetcht from the mint some few new wordes to coulor him, / grant me pardon, I thinke them fitte for him who is so limmed and coullored with all new found villanie: for if they bee etimologisde, they no whit disagree from his properties. Slender labour hath suffised to weaue this thinne superficiall vaile to cover his crimson Epistle, and shaddow it foorth vnto the world. For as a garment of too bright a color is too euil an obiect for the eyes (as is the Sun), & is nothing gazed after, no not of those who neuer saw it before: yet newe things are desired, because twould proue pernicious to their eyes, but once oreclowded and couered with a lawne vesture, through that it shines & becommeth a lesse hurting obiect, and draws the peoples sight after it: so his Epistle in it[s] owne colour beeing too resplendent and hurtfull to the readers, is laid apart & is nothing in request, for that twould proue as a burning glasse vnto their eyes, but vestured with this Caule & rare-wrought garmet, it loseth part of it[s] hurting vigour, & therefore is cald to be seene againe.
Loathed / tediousnes I also eschewed as no lesse hurtfull than too bright an obiect : the Booke which he dedicateth to me, is so tedious, that had I read it through, it so loathsome would haue wrought more on mee both vpward & downward, then 3. drams of pilles : his Epistle is not behinde hand : to that I might say as said Diogenes to the men of Minda, (whose gates were greater in analogicall proportion then their Citie:) O yee men of Minda, looke to your Cittie, that it flyes not out at your gates. So his booke might well for the largenesse of the Epistle haue flowne out at it, and surely I thinke had his book any wings, that is, any queint deuise flying abroad to please withall, it would neuer haue staid till this time : therfore I thinke it prouidently done of him (though out of doubt the foole had no such drift) to make the gates so bigge, that when we haue passed through the gates, supposing all the Cittie to be sutable to the statelines of them : but after we are entred, finding / our selues meerely guld, and that all the Cittie is not worth the gates, wee may the more readily finde the way out of the Cittie againe, the gates beeing so great : and this remedye I founde once when I tooke my iourney into his Cittie. But to returne, If this bee not so well set foorth as you could wish it were, blame mee not: for as the Moon being naked & bare, is said once to haue gone to her mother, and asked of her a coat to cloath her : but shee answered, there could bee no coate made fit for her, for her instabilitie, sometime she being in the ful, and somtime in the wane: so hee being man of so great reuolution, I could not fit him, for if I had vndertaken to speak of one of his properties, another came into my mind, & another followed that, which bred confusion, making it too little for him : therefore were it not too little, it might be twold be fit, but howsoeuer, pardon (Gentlemen) my boldnes in presenting to your fauorable viewes this litle and cofused coate. Sir, heere is a gentleman at the door would speake with you. Let him come in. M Nashe! welcome. What, you would be trimd? & I cannot denie you that fauour. Come, sit downe, Ile trim you my selfe. How now? what makes you sit downe so tenderly? you crintch in your buttocks like old father Pater patriae, he that was father to a whole countrey of bastards. Dispatch, st, boy set the water to the fire: but sirra, hearke in your eare, first goe prouide me my breakfast, that I goe not fasting about him; then goe to the Apothecarie, and fetch mee some represiue Antidotum to put into the bason, to keep downe the venemous vapors that arise from his infectious excremets: for (I tell you) I like not his countenance, I am afraid he labours of the vernereall murre. Muse not (gentle Thomas) that I come so roughly vppon you with Sit downe, without anie Dedicatorie Epistle, which (I know) you expected; for that your Epistle (in some wise) brought forth this small Worke: which purposely I omitted, scorning Patronage against you. For if (by an Epistle) I had made some Lord or Knight my Patron, it would haue mennaged and giuen courage to you, thus (not sufficient of my selfe) I should get some Protector to stand out with you. As in a Cocke-fight, if the Cocke-master takes off his Cocke when they are buckled together, it encourageth the other Cocke (deeming / his adversarie to flye to his Master for refuge): so that hee crowes foorth the triumph before the victorie. Therefore forsooth, if for orders sake (that of custome might be made a necessarie law) you would haue an Epistle, I thought it best, respecting the subiect matter, as neere as possibly I could to patterne it with the like Patron. Then not knowing where to heare of some miscreant, |
polluted with all vices both of bodie & minde: and viewing ouer all the imprest | |
images of men in the memoriall cell of my braine, at last I espied your selfe more liuely ingrauen than the rest, and as it were offring your selfe to this purpose. Then presently I made choice of you, that like an asse you might beare your burden, & patronize your owne scourge, as dooth the silly hedge-sparrow, that so long fostereth vp the cuckow in her neast, till at length she bee deuoured of her : or the Viper, that is destroyed of her owne whelpes. All England for a Patron. But to this sodaine ioy, (for sodaine ioy soone ends) |
this cross happened; That knowing it to bee my duetie to gratulate my Patrone with the first hereof, but not knowing where to finde you, for that you (the | Item for you |
Worlds Citizen) are heere and there, you may dine in this place, & goe supperlesse to bed, if you know where to haue your bed: you maye bee in one prison to-day and in another |
to-morrow: so that you haue a place but as a fleeting incorporeall substaunce, |
circumscribed with no limits, that of your owne you haue not so much as one of Diogenes his poore cottages. You haue indeed a terminus a quo (as we Logicians speake) but no terminus ad quem. Now sir, for the vncertaintie of your mansion house, you hauing all |
the world to keepe Court in, and being so haunted with an earthquake, that in what house soeuer you are one daye, you are shaken out the next, my little Booke might kill three or four porters, that / must run vp and downe London |
to seeke you, and at the last might dye it selfe for want of succour before it comes to your hands. Yet it might bee, that in your request you are insatiable, you will take no excuse, your will is your reason, nay may not be admitted. Well, it shall be yours; for your Epistles sake, haue at you with an Epistle. Nas hum. Mitto tibi Nashum prora N. puppi humque carentem. God saue you (right glossomachicall Thomas). The vertuous riches, where-with (as broad spread Fame reporteth) you are indued, though fama malum, (as saith the poet) which I confirme: for that shee is tam ficti prauique tenax, quam nuncia veri, as well saith Master William Lilly in his Adiectiua verbalia in ax. I say the report of your rich vertues so bewitched me toward you, that I cannot but send my poore Book to be vertuously succoured of you, that when both yours & my frends shall see it, they may (for your sake) vertuously accept of it. But, it may be, you denie the Epistle, the Booke is of you, the Epistle must be to some other. I answer, you are desirous of an Epistle. Did not Caesar write those things himself which himselfe did? and did not Lucius that golden Asse speak of himself which was the Asse? & will not you (though an / Asse, yet neither golden nor siluer) patronize that which others tooke paines to write of you?  Caesar and Lucius for that shall liue for euer : and so shall you, as long as euer you liue. Go too I say, he is an ill horse that will not carrie his owne prouender. But chiefly I am to tell you of one thing, which I chuse to tell you of in my Epistle, both because of Epistles some be denuntiatorie, as also considering that wise saying elswhere of the precise Schoolemaster : If thy frend commit anie enormious offence toward thee, tell him of it in an Epistle. And truly this is a great and enormious offence, at which my choller stands vpright, neither will I put it up.  Therefore in sadnes prouide your Lawier, I haue mine, it will beare as good an action, as if you should haue come into another mans house, and neuer say, Hoe Gode be here: that is, you wrote a foule Epsitle to mee, and neuer told me of it before: you might haue said, By your leaue Sir. I warrant you I write but this small Epistle to you, and I tell you of it as long before as the Epistle is long. But now I remember me, there was not hatred between vs before, and therefore twould be prooued but chaunce-medley.  Let it euen alone, it cannot be vndone, for a thing easely done neuer can be vn-done: and a man may quickly become a knaue, but hardly an honest man.  And thus (malevolent Tom I leaue thee. From my chamber in Camb. to your "                  " where ca[n] you tell? |
   Yours in loue usque ad aras                Rich: Lichfield. | That is that wold folow thee euen to the gallowes. |
You / see howe louingly I deale with you in my Epistle and tell of your vertues, which (God forgiue me for it ) is as arrant a lye as euer was told : but to leaue these parergasticall speeches and to come to your trimming, because I will deale roundly with you, I wil cut you with the round cut, in which I include two cuts: First the margent cut: secondly the perfect cut : The margent cut is nothing els but a preparation to the perfect cut, wherby I might more perfectly discharge that cut vpon you, for as in a deep standing poole, the brinks thereof, which are not vnfitly called the margents, being pared away, we may the better see thereinto: so the margents which fitly we may terme the brinkes of your standing stinking poole (for it infects the eare as doth the stinking poole the smell) being cut away, I may the better finish this perfect cut and rid my selfe of you. To the margent cut. When first your Epistle came into my hands, I boldly opened it, and sealing the margents of it I espied a seely note quasi conuersant about heads. I sayd not a word, but turning ouer a leafe or twoo more to see if you continued in those simple animaduersions, and indeed I saw you to bee no changling, for there I espied barbers knacking of their fingers, & lousie naperie, as foolish as the other : semper idem (thought I) might be your mot, and so you will dye: then I began to marke the note which you adioyned to your notes that they might be noted : there tossing and turning your booke vpside downe, when the west end of it hapned to be upward, me thought your note seemed a D, ah Dunce, Dolt, Dotterell, quoth I, well might it be a D. and for my life for the space of twoo houres, could I not leaue rayling of thee all in Ds. |
Barbers meddle with the head | I could speake of their excellencie, for that a man's face (the principall part of him) is committed onely to Barbers. All trades adorne the life of man, but none (except Barbers) haue the life of man in their power, and to them they hold vp |
their throates readie. |
to keepe in the vagrant wordes which straying abroade and beeing surprised may bewray the whole cittie: and the vpper bull-woorke sometimes serues for a percullis, which when any rascallie woorde hauing not the watch-worde, |
that is, reason, shall but enter out of the gates, is presently lette downe, and so it cuttes it of before it woorketh wracke to the whole Castell: therefore I must of necessitie find out another cause of thine infected speech: and nowe I haue founde it, fie on thee, I smell thee, thou hast a stinkinge breath : but a stinking breath (some say) commeth of foule teeth : and if it bee so, wash thy teeth Tom, for if thou wouldest drawe foorth good and cleane wordes out of thy mouth, thou wouldest washe thy teethe, as euerie tapster that goeth to drawe good beare will washe the potte before he gooeth : but it may bee the filth hath so eaten into thy teeth that washinge cannot get it away : then doe as that venome-bitinge beast, that Nile-breede Crocodile, which to purge her teeth of those shiuered reedes that are wreathed betweene, by feedinge in the water, commeth to the shoore, and there gapinge suffereth some friendly bird without / daunger to creepe into her mouth, and with |
her bill to picke away the troubling reedes : so come you but to some shoore, |
woorke, which giueth vse to all thy faculties and from which all thy actions |
downe againe, onely to tune the Lute, but to leaue the more cunning to playe thereon : Count it enough for mee that am but an adiuncte to a Scholler, that haue nothinge of myselfe but what I gleane vppe at the disputation of some |
vnbinde the bundell which I gathered at disputations, and giue you some remedie for this stinkinge breath : low how vertue in the friend casteth foorth her beames euer vpon her enemie, I am ouercome, blushingly I vndertake it, |
and like a bashfull mayde refuse, yet deigne you that fauour : then marke, first goe get some strong hempe, and worke it and temper it so long together till there arise out of it an |
engine which wee call Capistrum, then carry this Capistrum to some beame that lyeth acrosse, for none else wil serue, when it must bee straynde, |
and the one ende of it fasten to the beame, and one the other make a noose of as rounde a figure as you can, for the roundest figure is the most retentiue: let the noose bee alwayes readie to slide, for mans breath is slipperie, then when euerie thing is fitted, boldly put through thy heade, then worke the Capistrum ouer newe agayne, swinge vppe and downe twice or thrice that it may be well strainde, and so in short time your olde breath will bee gone : dispayre not yet man, probatum est, old AEson was deade a while but reuiued agayne and liued many a yeare after : but marke, now to the pynche, if Platoes transmigration holde, (which some menne holde) that the anima and breathes of men that bee deade dow fleete into the bodyes of other menne which shall liue, then I holde that some breath seeing thy yonge bodie without an anima, and twould be harde lucke if some breath or other should not be / yet straing about for a body, their being continually so many let loose at Tiburne, I say, some vnbespoken vagrant breath wil goe in and possesse thy body : nowe if this remedie helpe not, surely thou art vnrecurable : if also thy newe breath happen to be as stinking as thy olde, thou wilt neuer haue a sweete breath in this worlde, nor then neither. And thus much of my title.
Thaida te credis duxisse, sedilla Diana est, Ingenuously thou thee complainst an Irus poore to be
Some sayes Nashe is lasciuious, but I say he is chast, Who says Nash riots day & night, about the streets doth lye, For he in prison day and night in fetters fast doth lye. You say I am a foole for this, and I say you say true, Nowe I giue not euery word their litterall sence, and by that you may see how I presume of your good wit, to see if by allusions you can picke out the true meaning, but I vse a more plaine demonstration and apply it to your selfe : for if you will vnderstand any thing aright, you must euer apply it to your selfe. It may bee thou likest not these verses for that they want riming words, and ende both the verses with one word: no, Tom, noe, thinke not so, bewray not so thy poetry, for that distich is best contriued, and moste elegant that endes both verses with one word if they import a diuers sence : but now I see thou art no versifier, thou hast only a prose tongue, & with that thou runst headlong in thy writing with great premeditation had before, which any man would suppose for the goodnes, to be extempore, and this is thy good wit: come, I say, come learne of me, Ile teach thee howe to pot verses an hour together. |
Leaning on a iest | his stones and layes them in the way for the hunter: for which otherwise he should be hunted to the death: I thinke veryly and in my conscience, I should breake thy head and not giue the rest againe. |
Thou rude wretch, thou wilt be so cosmologizd, if thou beest catcht heere, for calling our Masters of Art first Stigmaticall, that is burnt with an hot Iron : didst thou euer know any of our Masters of Arts burnt with any Irons? then thou callest them sinckanters, which is a proper Epithite vnto thyselfe, for Sinckanter commeth of sincke and antrum a hole, and as all the puddle and filth in the channell, still runnes all along till it comes to a hole or antrum, and there it sinckes in : so all wickednes and abhord villany still straying abroad and seeking for an antrum, at last it findes thee which art the very sincke and center where it restes. And surely if thou shouldst haue termed me so, I neuer would haue suffered it vnreuenged, for as the Torpedo being caught and layd on the ground, striketh a torpour and numbnes into the hand of him that doth powre but water on her: so, I doe not thinke but that in thy Epistle thou calledst me but Dick, which is my name contract, and other adiuncts which in their own nature are neither good nor bad, the very remembrance of me stroke such a feare and numbnes into thy ioyntes, that yet thou shakest as not dispossest of the fearefull feauer. I will stirre thee vp and make thee seething hot, and when thou art in thy heate, I will then quell thee by moouing of thee more and more, as when a pot seetheth if we lade it and mooue the liquor vp and down, euen while it seetheth, wee shall make it quiet. Thou / little wottest of what a furious spirite I am, for I keeping among such spirits in this place, as thou sayst, am my selfe become a spirit, and goe about with howling cries with my launce in my hand to tortour thee, and must not returne home, till Ignatius-like thou shalt be carbondoed, and I shall carrie on my launce-point thy bones to hang at my shop-windowe, in steed of a cronet of rotten teeth, as trophies of my victorie : and this shalbe done, commest thou neuer so soone into my swinge. |
Spirit walks. | comest neere my walke: if thou dost but looke backe and see mee in my walke, thy necke will stand awry, thy mouth distorted, thy lips vgly wrested, |
and thy nose hang hooke-wise. But rather I take thee to be a spirit, for that I talking with thee all this while, cannot haue a glance on thee.![]() But see, what art thou heere? lupus in fabula, a lop in a chaine? Nowe sirra haue at you, tha'rt in my swinge. But soft, fetterd? thou art out againe: I cannot come neere thee, thou hast a charme about thy legges, no man meddle with the Queenes prisoner: now therefore let vs talke friendlye, and as Alexander sayd to hys Father Phillip, who beeing sorely wounded in the thigh in fight, and hardly escaping death, but could not/ goe on the ground without halting, bee of good courage father, come foorth that euery step thou sets on the ground may put thee in minde of thy manly courage & vertue : so say I to thee, Nashe come forth, bee not ashamed of thy selfe, stretch out thy legs, that euery step thou goest, thy shackles crying clinke, may remember & put thee in minde of all thy goodnes and vertue : I am glad to see thee in this prosperitie, thou neuer wert so rich as now, thou neuer hadst so much money as would buy so faire a payre of fetters; in very deed thou art beholding to thy keeper, that will trust thee with so faire a payre of fetters, neither would he if hee had thee not by the legge : but nowe thou art a good case, thou art no vagabond, now thou seruest a Master, and hast a house to goe to, and coutch to lye in, thou muste bee thriuing and prouident where thou art, and twill bee a good sauing for thee: now thou hast a clog at thy heele as the prouerbe is, thou must learne of Aesops dog to do as he did : that is, thou must crinch vp thy selfe round in thy couch all winter time and dreame of a goodly large chamber, faire lodgings and soft beds, and in the summer time thou must stretch thy selfe, lye all abroad snoring vpon thy couch, and thinke that silly lodging (seeing thou feelest no cold) a stately chamber built of free stone, layd out with stately bay windowes for to take the ayre at. But what neede I tell thee of these thinges? thou knowest |
better then I howe to lye in pryson : for what a shame were it else for thee, that hast many a day agoe beene free of all the prysons in London, nowe to learne | |
thine occupation? Thou art a iourney-man long since : I doe not thinke but that thou art able to set ope shop in that trade : for if thou wert but a nouice in it, this deere yeere would quite kill thee. But say / how dost thou for victualls, doo not they of thy old acquaintance helpe thee? if euer thou hadst a true frend, now let him show himselfe, for a frend is tried in adversitie : and though the Romanes were wont to say, that a true frend was but the salt and sauce of a banquet ; yet I say, that a true Frend to thee must be salt, sauce, bread, and all the meate beside. But thou hast neuer a true Frend, yet thou hast enough of those frends, that would be sauce to thy meate ; that is, if thou couldst bid them to a supper, they would come to eate vp thy meat, and sawce it with fine talke. But (God knowes) thou hast no need of those frends, thou couldest bee sauce to thine owne meate. Fie on frendship, what is become of it? not one drop nor crum of frendship betweene them all? A true Frend (as they say) were more necessarie than water and fire : for vnles hee come and call for it, thou canst not haue so much as fire and water ; that is, a fire with a cuppe of small drinke by it to nourish thy bodie. What is become of those true Frends Damon and Pythias, Castor and Pollux, Pylades and Orestes, Nisus and Euriolus, Perithous & Theseus, whom death it selfe could neuer seperate? Dead? Then Ioue raise some deadly tyrant to massacre that cancred brood of thy companions, that leaue their iester desolate in the winter of his affliction. I curse them with the more vehemencie, because I see some hope in thee, in that thou now seemest simply to betake thee to the truth. for whereas thou wert wont to cracke and brag abroad, and indeuouredst to shew, that ther was no learning in which thou wert not expert, and how that thou wert indowed with plentie of the liberall Sciences ; which thou knowest to be nothing so ; now thou recantest, and in simple truth saist, thou hast no learning, no not so much as one of the liberall Sciences. Which thou shewest vnto vs by comming foorth in thy fetters, / for none of the sciences are bond-slaues, or kept in chaines : they are called liberall quasi liberi because they make men free. If these are not sufficient motiues for thee, happily let this moue thee, that by thy proficiencie in philosophy since thou camst in prison, thou hearing of Aesop that dwelt in a tub ; of Anaxagoras, who, in prison wrote his especiall booke Of the quadrature of the Circle : of Socrates, who in prison studied Philosophy, and wrote verses, and yet (as Cardan saith) slept sweetly, so as Socrates gaue more light to the prison, then the prison gaue darknes to Socrates : And lastly of him that put out his owne eyes, and so eclipst himself of the sight of the world, that he might haue a more cleere insight into the light of nature : keep thou thy self still in prison, eclipse thee from the sight of the world, gaze onely on thy selfe, that so thou more cleerely seeing thine owne deformed nature, mightst labour to reforme it, and bring thyselfe into light againe. But (saist thou) you are a merry man M. Dicke, it befits not the wise to mocke a man in miserie. In truth thou saist true Tom, and for my mindes sake I would not for a shilling but that thou hadst beene in prison, it hath made my worship so merry ; but because thou continuest my precepts that am a Cambridge-man, from whence all vertue flowes, and is the very fountaine and Cunduit-head of all learning. O heere I could praise Cambridge an howre by the clocke. |
kings daughter captiuated & long time kept imprisoned in the Theeues houses, at last offering to / breake away, was condemned to be sewed into the Asses |
bodie & there to dye ; for the asses bodie was dead, and nothing aliue in the asse (the prison) to trouble the Maid the prisoner. But thy prison is aliue, and all the affections in thy bodie are as stinking vermine & wormes in it, that crawle about thee, gnawing thee, and putting thee to miseries. She in short time was sure to die, and so to be free againe; thou art still in dying, and hoping for freedome, but still liuest, and this augments thy calamitie : she should haue had her head left out to breathe into the aire, but thou breathest into thy prison thy bodie, that corrupts within thee, and so retournes to bee thyne owne poyson. Thus much miserie (poore soule) thine owne bodie affoords thee, and by being with thy bodie in the second prison, all this is doubled. Now, if thou wouldest bee free from thy |
prisons, make a hoale in thy first prison, breake out there, and so thou escapest both, thou neuer canst be caught again ; and by this thou shalt crie |
quittance with thy bodie, that thus hath tormented thee, and shalt leaue him buried in a perpetual dungeon. |
worke, which maketh all sure, and leaueth a signe behind it. And of this your last worke, I must needes say somewhat : for seeing that this my first work & off-spring hath remained in my womb beyond the time allotted, it must needs be grown greater ; and if it become a monster, it must needes be in excesse. |
O yes, O yes: if there be anie manner of man, person or persons, can bring anye tidings of Tho: Nashe Gentleman, let hym come and giue knowledge thereof, & hee shalbe plenteously rewarded.
Hearke you Thomas, the Crier calls you. What, a fugitiue? how comes that to passe, that thou a man of so good an education, & so wel backt by the Muses, shouldst prooue a fugitiue? But alas, thy Muses brought thee to this miserie: you and your Muses maye euen goe hang your selues: now you may wish, that he first put the Muses into your head, had knockt out your hornes. But seeing it hath so happened, call for your Thalia among your Muses, let her play some musique, and I will dance at / your hanging? But twas prouidence in thee, to foresee thy woe, and to labour to eschew it, if not by auering what you haue said, and standing too it, yet be shewing your heeles. For as the Prouerbe ; Ubi leonina pellis insufficiens est, vulpina astutia assuenda est. If by strong hand you cannot obtaine it, light heeles are to be required : for one paire of legs are worth two payre of hands. And of all the parts of thy bodie, thy legges are thy most trustie seruants : for in all thy life whenas thou couldest not obtaine of anie of the parts of thy bodie to effect thy will, yet legs thou hadst to commaund for to walke and flee whether soeuer was thy pleasure, neither now in this extremitie doo they deceiue thee. O, how mutch art thou beholding to thy legs? Bankes was not so much beholding to his Horse, that serued to ride on, and to doo such wonderfull crankes, as thou art to thy leggs, which haue thus cunningly conuayed thee. If euerie begger by the high wayes side (hauing his legs corrupted and halfe destroyed with botches, byles and fistulaes) maketh much of them, getteth stilts and creepeth easily on them, for feare of hurting them, because they maintaine them, and prooue better vnto them than manie an honest Trade ; then why shouldest not thou (by and argument, a malo in peius) make much of thy legs, which by speedie carriage of thee from place to place to get thee victualls, do not onely maintaine thy life, but also at this time haue saued thy life, by their true seruice vnto thee. Wherefore (these things considered) thou canst not chuse but in all humilitie offer thy old shooes for sacrifice to Thetis for thy swift feet. And twas wisely done of that dread Liech Apollo to appoint Pisces the signe to the feete, to shew that a man should be as swift as a fish about his affaires. Nevertheless can I accuse you of lazines: for all this time of your vagation, with you I thinke the Signe hath been in Pisces. Now in this thy flight thou art a night-bird, for the day wil bewray thee : the Bat and Owle be thy fellow trauellers. But to come roundly vnto you, this cannot long continue ; the Owle sometime is snared in the day season, and olde Father Time at length will bring you to light. Therefore, were you as well prouided to continue your flight, as is the beast Ephemeron,, which because shee hath but one day to liue, hath manie legs, foure wings, and all what Nature can affoord, to giue her expedition to see about the world for her one dayes pleasure : or as Pegasus that winged Horse, which in swiftnes equalleth the Horses of the Sunne, which in one naturall day perambulate all the world : or as the beast Alce, which runneth on the snow with such celeritie that she neuer sinketh vnto the ground. Were you (I say) as swift as anie of these, you shall be catcht, such is your destinie : and then your punishment shall be doubled on you, both for your flying, and your other villanie. |
should I flye to escape these dogs : if I should flye to heaven, there is canis sidus celeste : if I should run into the sea, there canis piscis marinus | starre. The dog-fish |
and heere on earth millions of dogges seeke to torment me : aye me, heauen, earth and sea conspire my tragedy : and as wofull as the Cunny which escaping the Weasell fell into the hunters net, of which was that pythie Epigram, Would to God the Weasell with my bloud had sucked out my life, for nowe I am kept a pray for the rauening dogs, and cruell-harted ma sits laughing whilst my body is broken vp, and my guts deuided into many shares: and though yet thou hast escaped thy snares, it will not bee long ere thou beest taken, and then the'rs laughing worke for all the Country; for though thy body were shared out into infinite indiuiduals, yet euery one could not haue his part whom thou hast abused, for recompence for thy iniury done vnto him. |
Then to bee short, to haue thine cropt is thy punishment: What Tom, |
are thine eares gone? Oh fine man will you buy a fine dog? Why thou art in the fashion |
thou art priuileged to weare long lockes by ancient charter: but now if the fashion were as hot as euer twas to weare ringes in their eares, faith thou must weare |
thine euen in thy tongue, because that cosoned thee of thine eares : are thy eares so moueable? art thou a monster? indeede all beasts haue free mouing of their eares graunted to them, but for men I neuer knew any but thee haue their eares mouing, and thine I see to haue the gentle quite remou[d]: I thinke tis a disease, / for I am assured tis a horible paine to bee troubled with the mouing of the eares. I coniecture no goodnes by this strange accident of mouable eares this yere. I hope shortly we shall haue Ballads out of it. I am afraid I tell you by this strange signe, that we shall haue a wet winter this yere: for if it be true (which the Philosophers affirme) that when an Asses eares hang downe toward the ground, tis a certaine signe of raine instant, then seeing thine eares not only hang toward the ground, but euen drop down to the ground, how can it chuse but be a signe of great wet at hand? and to thee it should be a cause of perpetuall showers that should flow from thine eyes : but thou art drye, no droppe of grace from thine eyes. If taking away of thine eares could take away thy hearing too, twere some profit for thee, for then thou shouldst not heare thy selfe railed on, laughed at, nor know thy selfe to be a mocking stocke to all the Country : but ther is a more plaine way made to thy hearing organs, so that thou shalt more lightly heare thy selfe euery where cald crop-eard curre. What wilt thou giue me if I (I am a Chrirugion) make a newe paire of eares grow out of thy head, which passeth Appolloes cunning, that so thou maist stil liue with fame in thine own countrie, or if I heale them as though thou neuer hadst any, that I may goe with thee into Germanie and there shew thee for a strange beast bred in England, with a face like a man, with no eares, with a tung like a venomous serpent, and a nose like no body. The last I care not if I consented to, if thou woldst liue in good order but one half yere: but to the first, that is to giue thee new eares, I neuer wil grant thogh thou sholdst be inspired to liue orderly al the residue of thy life, no thogh I had wax & al things ready : for long agoe hast thou deserued this disgrace to earelesse, euer since thou beganst to write: for libels deserue that punishment, and euery booke which yet thou / hast written, is a libell, and whomsoeuer thou namest in thy booke hath a libell made of him, thou purposing to speake well of him; such is the malice of thy cankerd tongue. Therefore thou deseruedst to loose thine eares for naming the Bishop of Ely and of Lincolne, and for writing of Christes teares ouer Ierusalem: how darest thou take such holy matters into thy stinking mouth, so to defile and polute them? Your Dildoe & such subiects are fit matter for you, for of those you cannot speak amisse : the more you raile of the the neerer you touch the matter: but because you were not punished for those libels, you began your olde course againe, canis ad vomitum, you began to chew the cud of your villanie and to bring more libels into light. But I hope this last libell will reuenge the rest. To all ballet-makers, pamphleters, presse hanters, boon pot poets, and such like, to whom these presents shall come, greeting: Wheras Tho: Nashe the bearer heereof, borne I know not where, educated sometime at Cambridge: where (being distracted of his wits) he fell into diuers misdemeanors, which were the first steps that broght him to this poore estate. As namely in his fresh-time how he florished in all impudencie toward Schollers, and abuse to the Townesmen; insomuch that to this daye the Towns-men call euerie vntoward Scholler of whom there is great hope, a verie Nashe. Then being Bachelor of Arte, which by great labour he got, to shew afterward that he was not vnworthie of it, had a hand in a Show called Terminus & non terminus : for which his partner in it was expelled the Colledge: but this foresaid Nashe played in it (as I suppose) the Varlet of Clubs ; which he acted with such natural affection, that all the spectators tooke him to be the verie same. Then suspecting himself that he should be stared for egregie dunsus, and not attain to the next Degree, said he had commest enough, and so forsook Cambridge, being a Batchelor of the third yere. Then he raisd him selfe vnto an higher Clime ; no lesse than London could serue him: where somewhat recouered of his wits, by the excrements thereof (for the space of nine or ten yere) hee hath got his belly fed and his backe cloathed. As also I hope you are not ignoraunt how hee hath troubled the Presse all this time, and published sundrie workes & volumes, which I take with me as humble fellow-suters to you, that you being all in one straine (and that very low, he in a higher key) you would vouchsafe to take him as your graduate Captain generall in all villanie ; to which villanie conioyn your voyces and in which villanie praye and / say together, Vivat, moriatur Nashe. To these premisses, that they are true, and that hee among you all is onely worthie this title, I (as head Lecturer) put too my hand.
But Tom, thy selfe art past grace : for some of thyne owne faction, enuying thy proficiencie and honour to which thou aspirest, hath pocketted thy Grace. O enuie, catterpiller to uertue! But let him kno that thou hast a Patron will sticke to thee, and that thou art gracious in more Faculties than one ; I will put vp another Grace for thee ; wherein he shall haue no voyce, and one onely man and old friend of thine shall strike it dead. Thus / (curteous Gentlemen) I haue brought you to the ende of his trimming, though he be not so curiously done as he deserueth: hold mee excused, hee is the first man that euer I cut on this fashion. And if perhaps in this Trimming, I haue cut more partes of him then are necessarie, let mee heare your censures, and in my next Cut I will not be so lauish : but as the Curate, who, when he was first instald into his Benefice, and among other Iniunctions being inioyned (as the order is) to forewarne his Parish of Holy-daies, that they might fast for them : and thinking all those Holy daies which hee saw in hys Calender written with red letters, on a time said to hys Parishioners, You must fast next wensday for Saint Sol in Virgo, which is on thursday, because he saw it in red letters. Which mooued laughter to the wise of the Parish ; who presently instructed him, that ouer what red words soeuer he saw Fast written, those hee should bid Holi-dayes: so in short time he became expert in it. In like manner, I hauing but newly taken Orders in these affaires, if heere I haue been too prodigall in snip snaps, tell me of it, limit me with a Fast, and in short time you shall see me reformed. To help distingish my own theories from accepted facts, wherever I've wandered off into speculation, I've coloured the background as a warning. You can take or leave the stuff inside the coloured areas, just as you wish. Lent:
Nas hum...carentem: I'm indebted to Robert Stonehouse, a contributor to the newsgroup alt.humanities.languages.latin, for an explanation of what Lichfield is saying here:
Apuleius This story is given in Apuleius' The Golden Ass. The girl Charite is kidnapped by bandits on her wedding day and held to ransom. When they discover her trying to escape from them on the back of an ass, one suggests they kill the animal: "You know well what you have determined already of this dull Asse, that eateth more then he is worth, that faineth lamenesse, and that was the cause of the flying away of the Maid : my mind is that he shall be slaine to morrow, and when all the guts and entrailes of his body is taken out, let the Maide be sowne into his belly, then let us lay them upon a great stone against the broiling heate of the Sunne, so they shall both sustaine all the punishments which you have ordained : for first the Asse shall be slaine as you have determined, and she shall have her members torne and gnawn with wild beasts, when as she is bitten and rent with wormes, shee shall endure the paine of the fire, when as the broyling heat of the Sunne shall scortch and parch the belly of the Asse, shee shall abide the gallows when the Dogs and Vultures shall have the guts of her body hanging in their ravenous mouthes." (Project Gutenberg's etext of The Golden Asse by Lucius Apuleius "Africanus" Translated by William Adlington,First published 1566,This version as reprinted from the edition of 1639. Typed, scanned and proofed by Donal O'Danachair) Link Before they can carry out this scheme however the girl is rescued by her fiance. |
[... I wonder whether Lichfield could read Latin? Adlington's was the most popular, and for all I know the only generally available translation; and one would naturally assume Lichfield must have read The Golden Ass only in translation. He refers above however to Charite being a 'king's daughter'. She isn't, but according to a more accurate modern translation by Robert Graves, she does say at one point she is of royal blood; Adlington's 1639 reprint misses this detail. If his earlier versions also left it out, but Lichfield knew it, it perhaps suggests Lichfield had enough Latin to read The Golden Ass in the original. Also, Charite is held captive only for a night and a day, but during this time an old woman tells her the tale of Cupid and Psyche at length, which forms a big interruption in the narrative. If Lichfield was working his way through the Latin text, the sheer length of this diversionary tale might mislead him as to the time Charite spent with the bandits.] |
Here - It appears that at this point Lichfield changed his original plan in order to insert the news of Nashe's involvement with, and hasty flight from, The Isle of Dogs. Fish Notice how often the analogy between Nashe and fish is made? I'm inclined to think that, like the ironic 'Tho: Nashe Gentleman' in the mock-proclamation and the title, they are sneering hints at Nashe's humble family background. Several of his relatives were fishermen. He declares in Nashe's Lenten Stuffe that he sheltered at Great Yarmouth while waiting for the furore over The Isle of Dogs to die down. His cousin Mathew Witchingham, resident at Great Yarmouth, was a fisherman. |
[Satirist : I'd guess this is a reference to Joseph Hall, Fellow of Emmanuel, whose highly successful satire Virgidemiarum Six Bookes, published earlier in the year, attacked Nashe for obscenity. It would be in character for Nashe to threaten revenge, though there's no other record of this, and nothing in Lenten Stuffe reads like an attack on Hall.] |
[
S. George : Taken together with the reference earlier to the Provost Marshal, whose job it is to cleanse the city, this reference to 'S(t).George' seems suggestive to me - a bit like Greene's artless reference to swearing 'by sweet St. George' when he wants to hint at George Peele's identity in 'Greene's Groatsworth of Wit'. |