ed over. Euphuism never did the harm
to comedy which tragedy suffered at the hands of the late Elizabethans
who, in their pursuit of moving incident, lost themselves in a reckless
licence of language and verse. Action, therefore, fell into the
background. Refinement, elevation was aimed at. In the place of Hodge,
Dame Chat and their company, there now appeared gracious beings of
perfect manners and speech; and since things Greek and mythological had
become the fashion, Arcadian nymphs and swains, beauteous goddesses and
Athenian philosophers were judged the most fitting to stand before the
English court. In scene after scene fair ladies talk of love, reverend
sages display their readiness in solving knotty problems, lovers sigh
into the air long rhapsodies over the charms of their mistresses,
sharp-tongued (but rarely coarse) serving-boys lure fools into greater
folly or exchange amusing badinage at the expense of their absent
masters. The story does not advance much, but that is of small account
so long as the dialogue tickles ears taught to find delight in
well-spoken euphuism. It is like listening to a song in a language one
does not understand: provided that the harmony is beautiful one is not
distressed about the verbal message. Besides, there is some plot, slight
though it be, and its theme is love, chiefly of the languishing,
half-hopeless kind which was supposed to be cherished by every bachelor
courtier for the queen. There is, too, for those who can read it, an
allegory often concealed in the story of disappointed love or ambition
which moves round Cynthia or Diana or Sapho. Was there no lover who
aspired as Endymion aspired, no Spanish king meriting the fate of Mydas,
no man favoured as was Phao by Sapho? Even at this distance of time we
can amuse ourselves by guessing names, and so catch something of the
interest which, at the time of the play's appearance, would set eyebrows
arching with surprise, and send, at each daring reference or well-aimed
compliment, a nod of approving intelligence around the audience.

Lyly wrote eight comedies: _Campaspe_ (printed 1584), _Sapho and Phao_
(printed 1584), _Endymion_ (printed 1591), _Gallathea_ (printed 1592),
_Mydas_ (printed 1592), _Mother Bombie_ (printed 1594), _The Woman in
the Moon_ (printed 1597), _Love's Metamorphoses_ (printed 1601). All
these, with the exception of the seventh--which is in regular and
pleasing, though not vigorous, blank verse--were written i