Ralph Roister Doister by Nicholas Udall The Prologue

What Creature is in health, eyther yong or olde, But som mirth with modestie wil be glad to use As we in thys Enterlude shall now unfolde, Wherin all scurilitie we utterly refuse, Avoiding such mirth wherin is abuse: Knowing nothing more comendable for a mans recreation Than Mirth which is used in an honest fashion: For Myrth prolongeth lyfe, and causeth health. Mirth recreates our spirites and voydeth pensivenesse, Mirth increaseth amitie, not hindring our wealth, Mirth is to be used both of more and lesse, Being mixed with vertue in decent comlynesse. As we trust no good nature can gainsay the same: Which mirth we intende to use, avoidyng all blame. The wyse Poets long time heretofore, Under merrie Comedies secretes did declare, Wherein was contained very vertuous lore, With mysteries and forewarnings very rare. Suche to write neither Plautus nor Terence dyd spare, Whiche among the learned at this day beares the bell: These with such other therein dyd excell. Our Comedie or Enterlude which we intende to play Is named Royster Doyster indeede, Which against the vayne glorious doth invey, Whose humour the roysting sort continually doth feede. Thus by your pacience we intende to proceede In this our Enterlude by Gods leave and grace, And here I take my leave for a certaine space.

reject

casts out friendship great and lesser personages

takes the prize

blustering, riotous

Gorboduc Act III. Scene 1. Gorboduc, Eubulus, Arostus, Philander, Nuntius.

Nuntius: O King the greatest grief that ever Prince did hear That ever woeful Messenger did tell, 160 That ever wretched land hath seen before I bring to you. Porrex your younger son With sudden force, invaded hath the land That you to Ferrex did allot to rule: And with his own most bloody hand he hath 165 His brother slain, and doth possess his Realm. Gorboduc: O Heavens send down the flames of your revenge, Destroy I say with flash of wreakful fire The Traitor son, and then the wretched sire But let us go, that yet perhaps I may 170 Die with revenge, and pease the hateful gods Chorus: The lust of the kingdoms knows no sacred faith No rule of Reason, no regard of right No kindly love, no fear of heavens wrath: But with contempt of Gods, and mans despite 175 Through bloody slaughter doth prepare the ways To fatal Scepter and accursed reign The son so loathes the fathers lingering days Ne dreads his hand in Brothers blood to stain O wretched Prince, ne dost thou yet record 180 The yet fresh Murders done within the Lands Of thy forefathers, when the cruel sword Bereft Morgan his life with cousins hands? Thus fatal plagues pursue the guilty race Whose murderous hand imbrued with guiltless blood. 185 Asks vengeance before the heavens face, With endless mischiefs on the cursed brood The wicked child this brings to woeful Sire The mournful plight to waft his weary life: Thus do the cruel flames of Civil fire 190 Destroys the parted reign with hateful strife And hence doth spring the well from which doth flow: The dead black streams of mournings, plaints and woe.