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.
    Lab. Good morrow louely wife, what hast thou there?
    205Flo. Iewels my Lord which here I strangely found.
    Lab. Thats strange indeede, what, where none comes
    but when your selfe is here? surely the heauens haue rained
    thee iewels for thy holy life, and vsing thy olde husbande
    louingly, or else doe Fairies haunt this holy greene, as euer-
    210more mine auncesters haue thought.
    Flo. Fairies were but in times of ignorance, not since the
    true pure light hath beene reuealed, and that they come
    from heauen I scarce beleeue: for iewels are vaine things,
    more gold is giuen for such fantastical and fruitlesse iewels,
    215and therfore heauen I know wil not maintain the vse of va-
    nitie, surely I feare I haue much sinned to stoupe and take
    them vp, bowing my bodie to an idle worke, the strength
    that I haue had to this verie deed might haue beene vsed to
    take a poore soule vp in the hie way.
    220Lab. You are too curious wife, behold your iewels: what
    me thinks therEs poises written on thē, dispaire not of chil-
    Then shee
    dren, loue with the longest, whē man is at the weakest, god
    is at the strongest; wonderfull rare and wittie, nay diuine,
    why this is heauenly cōfort for thee wife, what is this other?
    225God will reward her a thousand folde that takes what age
    can, and not what age would, the best that euer I heard, no
    mortall braine I thinke did euer vtter such conceit for good
    plaine matter, and for honest rime.
    Flo. Vaine Poetry, I pray you burne them sir.
    230La. You are to blame wife, heauen hath sent you them to
    decke your self withall, like to your self, not to go thus like a
    milk-maid, why there is difference in all estats by al religiō.
    Flo. There is no difference.
    Lab. I prethee wife be of another mind, and weare these
    235iewels and a veluet hood.
    Flo A veluet hood, O vaine diuelish deuise! a toy made
    with a superfluous flap, which being cut off my head, were
    still as warme. Diogenes did cast away his dish, because his
    hand will serue to help him drinke, surely these heathens
    B shall