ry finds expression in
the deliberate undermining of true love by forged proofs of infidelity.
There is less rodomontade than in the previous plays, but again we have
to record an absence of humour. In the following lines Orlando is
meditating on his love:

Fair queen of love, thou mistress of delight,
Thou gladsome lamp that wait'st on Phoebe's train,
Spreading thy kindness through the jarring orbs
That, in their union, praise thy lasting powers;
Thou that hast stay'd the fiery Phlegon's course,
And mad'st the coachman of the glorious wain
To droop, in view of Daphne's excellence;
Fair pride of morn, sweet beauty of the even,
Look on Orlando languishing in love.
Sweet solitary groves, whereas the Nymphs
With pleasance laugh to see the Satyrs play,
Witness Orlando's faith unto his love.
Tread she these lawnds, kind Flora, boast thy pride:
Seek she for shade, spread, cedars, for her sake:
Fair Flora, make her couch amidst thy flowers:
Sweet crystal springs,
Wash ye with roses when she longs to drink.
Ah, thought, my heaven! ah, heaven, that knows my thought!
Smile, joy in her that my content hath wrought.

Hitherto Greene had yielded to the popular demand for plays of the
_Tamburlaine_ class, full of oriental colour and martial sound, with
titanic heroes and a generous supply of kings, queens, and great
captains: no less than twenty crowned heads compete for places on the
list of dramatis personae in his first three plays. The character of
Angelica, however, and stray touches of pastoralism in the last play,
hint at an impending change. The author's mind, tired of subservience,
was beginning to trace out for itself new paths, leading him from camps
to the fresh countryside. To the end Greene retained his kings, possibly
for their spectacular effect. But he abandoned warfare as a theme.

_Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay_ was written under the new inspiration. We
have already referred to the motley nature of this drama. No other of
the writer's plays exhibits so many and such rapid changes of scene,
some situations actually demanding the presentation of two scenes at the
same time. In spite of this the different sections of the story remain
tolerably clear as we proceed, and the interest never flags for longer
than the brief minutes when prosy Oxford dons talk learnedly. Four
groups of characters attract attention in turn; the young noblemen an