Digital Renaissance Editions

About this text

  • Title: An Humorous Day's Mirth (Quarto 1, 1599)
  • Editor: Eleanor Lowe
  • Coordinating editor: Brett Greatley-Hirsch
  • General textual editor: Helen Ostovich
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-513-1

    Copyright Digital Renaissance Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: George Chapman
    Editor: Eleanor Lowe
    Peer Reviewed

    An Humorous Day's Mirth (Quarto 1, 1599)

    dayes mirth.
    1490vs the slip before dinner.
    Cat. Well Gentlemen, since we are so fitly mette, Ile tell
    you an excellent subiect for a fit of myrth, and if it bee well
    handled.
    Ber. Why, what is it?
    1495Cat. Why man, Labesha is grown maruelous malecon-
    tent, vpon some amorous disposition of his mistres, and
    you know he loues a mease of cream, and a spice-cake with
    his heart, and I am sure he hath not dined to day, and he hath
    taken on him the humour of the yong lord Dowsecer, and
    1500we will set a mease of creame, a spice-cake, and a spoone,
    as the armour, picture, and apparell was set in the way of
    Dowsecer, which I doubt not but will woorke a rare cure
    vpon his melancholie.
    Host. Why, this is excellent, Ile go fetch the creame.
    1505Cat. And I the cake.
    Ber. And I the spoone.
    Exeunt, and come in againe.
    Cat. See where hee comes as like the lord Dowsecer as
    may be, nowe you shall heare him begin with some Latin
    1510sentence that hee hath remembred euer since hee read his
    Accidence.
    Enter Labesha.
    La. Faelix quē faciunt aliena pericula cautum. O sillie state
    of things, for things they be that cause this sillie state: and
    1515what is a thing, a bable, a toy, that stands men in small stead:
    He spies the
    creame.
    but what haue we here? what vanities haue we here?
    Host. He is strongly tempted, the lord strengthen him,
    see what a vaine he hath.
    Lab. O cruell fortune, and dost thou spit thy spite at my
    1520poore life: but O sowre creame what thinkest thou that I
    loue thee still? no, no, faire and sweete is my mistries, if thou
    haddest strawberries and sugar in thee: but it may bee thou
    art set with stale cake to choke me: well taste it, and trie it,
    spoonefull by spoonefull: bitterer and bitterer still, but O
    1525sowre creame, wert thou an Onion, since Fortune set thee
    F 3 for