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    The Widow's Tears: 'She be my guide, and hers the praise of these, My worthy undertakings''
    The Widow's Tears: 'She be my guide, and hers the praise of these, My worthy undertakings''
    The Widow's Tears: 'She be my guide, and hers the praise of these, My worthy undertakings''
    Ebook156 pages2 hours

    The Widow's Tears: 'She be my guide, and hers the praise of these, My worthy undertakings''

    By George Chapman

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    George Chapman was born at Hitchin in Hertfordshire in about 1559. There is some evidence that Chapman attended Oxford University but did not obtain a degree, but the evidence is rather scant.

    During the first part of the early 1590s Chapman was in Europe, in military action in the Low Countries fighting under the famed English general Sir Francis Vere.

    It is from this period that his earliest published works are found including the obscure philosophical poems The Shadow of Night (1594) and Ovid's Banquet of Sense (1595).

    By the end of the 1590s, Chapman had become a successful playwright, working for the Elizabethan Theatrical entrepreneur, Philip Henslowe, and later for the Children of the Chapel.

    From 1598 he published his translation of the Iliad in installments. In 1616 the complete Iliad and Odyssey appeared in The Whole Works of Homer, the first complete English translation, which until Alexander Pope's, was the most popular in the English language and was the entry point for most English readers of these magnificent poems.

    The great Ben Jonson was also using Chapman’s talents in the play Eastward Ho (1605), co-written with John Marston. Both Chapman and Jonson landed in jail over some satirical references to the Scots in the play but both were quick to say that Marston was the culprit.

    Chapman also wrote one of the most successful masques of the Jacobean era, The Memorable Masque of the Middle Temple and Lincoln's Inn, performed on February 15th, 1613. Another masque, The Masque of the Twelve Months, performed on Twelfth Night 1619 is also now given as Chapman’s.

    George Chapman died in London on May 12th, 1634 having lived his latter years in poverty and debt. He was buried at St Giles in the Fields.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStage Door
    Release dateMar 25, 2019
    ISBN9781787805088
    The Widow's Tears: 'She be my guide, and hers the praise of these, My worthy undertakings''

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      Book preview

      The Widow's Tears - George Chapman

      The Widow's Tears by George Chapman

      George Chapman was born at Hitchin in Hertfordshire in about 1559.  There is some evidence that Chapman attended Oxford University but did not obtain a degree, but the evidence is rather scant.

      During the first part of the early 1590s Chapman was in Europe, in military action in the Low Countries fighting under the famed English general Sir Francis Vere.

      It is from this period that his earliest published works are found including the obscure philosophical poems The Shadow of Night (1594) and Ovid's Banquet of Sense (1595).

      By the end of the 1590s, Chapman had become a successful playwright, working for the Elizabethan Theatrical entrepreneur, Philip Henslowe, and later for the Children of the Chapel.

      From 1598 he published his translation of the Iliad in installments. In 1616 the complete Iliad and Odyssey appeared in The Whole Works of Homer, the first complete English translation, which until Alexander Pope's, was the most popular in the English language and was the entry point for most English readers of these magnificent poems.

      The great Ben Jonson was also using Chapman’s talents in the play Eastward Ho (1605), co-written with John Marston.  Both Chapman and Jonson landed in jail over some satirical references to the Scots in the play but both were quick to say that Marston was the culprit.

      Chapman also wrote one of the most successful masques of the Jacobean era, The Memorable Masque of the Middle Temple and Lincoln's Inn, performed on February 15th, 1613. Another masque, The Masque of the Twelve Months, performed on Twelfth Night 1619 is also now given as Chapman’s.

      George Chapman died in London on May 12th, 1634 having lived his latter years in poverty and debt. He was buried at St Giles in the Fields.

      Index of Contents

      DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

      SCENE: Paphos, on the Island of Cyprus

      ACT I

      SCENE I - A Room in the House of Lysander

      SCENE II - A Room in the House of Eudora

      SCENE III - Before the House of Eudora

      ACT II

      SCENE I - A Room in the House of Lysander

      SCENE II - A Room in the House of Eudora

      SCENE III - Before the House of Eudora

      SCENE IV

      ACT III

      SCENE I - Before the House of Lysander

      SCENE II - A Room in the House of Eudora

      ACT IV

      SCENE I - A Room in the House of Eudora

      SCENE II - The Graveyard

      SCENE III - The Graveyard

      ACT V

      SCENE I - The Graveyard

      SCENE II - The Graveyard

      SCENE III - The Graveyard

      GEORGE CHAPMAN – A SHORT BIOGRAPHY

      GEORGE CHAPMAN – A CONCISE BIBLIOGRPAHY

      DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

      Tharsalio, the wooer

      Lysander, his brother

      Cynthia, wife to Lysander

      Ero, waiting-woman to Cynthia

      Hylus, son to Lysander, nephew to Tharsalio

      Eudora, the widow countess

      Sthenia, gentlewoman attending on Eudora

      Ianthe, gentlewoman attending on Eudora

      Clinias, a servant to Eudora

      Lycus, a servant to Eudora

      Argus, gentleman usher to Eudora

      Laodice, daughter to Eudora

      Rebus, a suitor to Eudora

      Hiarbas, Friend to Rebus

      Psorabeus, Friend to Rebus

      The Governor of Cyprus

      Captain of the Watch

      Two Soldiers

      Arsace, a pandress

      Thomasin, a courtesan

      SCENE: Paphos, on the Island of Cyprus.

      ACT I

      SCENE I

      A Room in the House of Lysander.

      [Enter THARSALIO solus, with a glass in his hand, making ready.

      THARSALIO

      Thou blind imperfect goddess, that delights

      (Like a deep-reaching statesman) to converse

      Only with fools, jealous of knowing spirits,

      For fear their piercing judgments might discover

      Thy inward weakness and despise thy power,

      Contemn thee for a goddess; thou that lad'st

      Th' unworthy ass with gold, while worth and merit

      Serve thee for nought, weak Fortune, I renounce

      Thy vain dependance, and convert my duty

      And sacrifices of my sweetest thoughts

      To a more noble deity, sole friend to worth,

      And patroness of all good spirits, Confidence;

      She be my guide, and hers the praise of these

      My worthy undertakings.

      [Enter LYSANDER with a glass in his hand, CYNTHIA, HYLUS, ERO.

      LYSANDER

      Morrow, brother! Not ready yet?

      THARSALIO

      No; I have somewhat of the brother in me. I dare say your wife is many times ready, and you not up—Save you, sister; how are you enamoured of my presence? How like you my aspect?

      CYNTHIA

      Faith, no worse than I did last week; the weather has nothing changed the grain of your complexion.

      THARSALIO

      A firm proof 'tis in grain, and so are not all complexions. A good soldier's face, sister!

      CYNTHIA

      Made to be worn under a beaver.

      THARSALIO

      Ay, and 'twould show well enough under a mask, too.

      LYSANDER

      So much for the face!

      THARSALIO

      But is there no object in this suit to whet your tongue upon?

      LYSANDER

      None, but Fortune send you well to wear it; for she best knows how you got it.

      THARSALIO

      Faith, 'tis the portion she bestows upon younger brothers, valour and good clothes. Marry, if you ask how we come by this new suit, I must take time to answer it; for as the ballad says, In written books I find it. Brother, these are the blossoms of spirit; and I will have it said for my father's honour, that some of his children were truly begotten.

      LYSANDER

      Not all?

      THARSALIO

      Shall I tell you, brother, that I know will rejoice you? My former suits have been all spenders; this shall be a speeder.

      LYSANDER

      A thing to be heartily wished; but, brother, take heed you be not gulled; be not too forward.

      THARSALIO

      'T had been well for me if you had followed that counsel. You were too forward when you stepped into the world before me and gulled me of the land that my spirits and parts were indeed born to.

      CYNTHIA

      May we not have the blessing to know the aim of your fortunes? What coast, for Heaven's love?

      THARSALIO

      Nay, 'tis a project of state: you may see the preparation, but the design lies hidden in the breasts of the wise.

      LYSANDER

      May we not know't?

      THARSALIO

      Not unless you'll promise me to laugh at it, for without your applause I'll none.

      LYSANDER

      The quality of it may be such as a laugh will not be ill bestowed upon't; pray Heaven I call not Arsace sister.

      CYNTHIA

      What, the pandress?

      THARSALIO

      Know you (as who knows not?) the exquisite lady of the palace, the late governor's admired widow, the rich and haughty Countess Eudora? Were not she a jewel worth the wearing, if a man knew how to win her?

      LYSANDER

      How's that, how's that?

      THARSALIO

      Brother, there is a certain goddess called Confidence, that carries a main stroke in honourable preferments. Fortune waits upon her, Cupid is at her beck; she sends them both of errands. This deity doth promise me much assistance in this business.

      LYSANDER

      But if this deity should draw you up in a basket to your countess's window, and there let you hang for all the wits in the town to shoot at; how then?

      THARSALIO

      If she do, let them shoot their bolts and spare not; I have a little bird in a cage here that sings me better comfort. What should be the bar? You'll say, I was page to the Count her husband. What of that? I have thereby one foot in her favour already. She has taken note of my spirit and surveyed my good parts, and the picture of them lives in her eye; which sleep, I know, cannot close till she have embraced the

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