Sources for triumph (Douce 1807)


Illustrations of Shakespeare, and of Ancient Manners: With Dissertations on ...
By Francis Douce (1807)

The article contains some sources, in which the game triumph appear, which are not all familiary to me.,M1

(the text tries to explain Shakespeare passages)

"SHAKESPEARE: Antonius and Cleopatra

Antonius: My good KNAVE, Eros, now thy captain is
Even such a body : here I am Antony;
Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my KNAVE.
I made these wars for Egypt; and the queen,—
Whoso heart, I thought, I had, for she had mine; •
she, Eros, has
Pack'd CARDS with Caesar, and false play'd my glory
Unto an enemy's TRIUMPH.

One should really suppose that Shakspeare had written this speech just after having lost a game at cards, and before the manner in which it had been played was out of his mind. Dr. Warburton's explanation is too superficial to merit the commendation which Dr. Johnson has bestowed on it. That of Mr. Malone is much more judicious and satisfactory; but it has not been perceived that a marked and particular allusion is intended. This is to the old card game of trump, which bore a very strong resemblance to our modem whist. It was played by two against two, and sometimes by three against three. It is thus mentioned in "Gammer Gurton's needle",
Act ii. Sc. 2. " We be fast set at trump man, hard by the fire ;" and likewise in Dekkar's "Belman of London", among other card games. In Eliot's "Fruits for the French", 1593, p. 53, it is called " a verie common alehouse game in England;" and Rice, in his "Invective against vices", 12mo, b. l. n. d. but printed before 160O, speaking of sharpers' tricks at cards, mentions "renouncyng the trompe and comming in againe." The Italians call it triomphetto ; see Florio's dictionary. In Capitolo's poem on Primero, another
card game, 1526, 8vo, it is called trionfi, and consigned to the peasants. Minsheu, in his "Spanish dialogues", p. 25, makes it a game for old men. We, in all probability, received it from the French triomphe, which occurs in Rabelais as one of Gargantua's games. The term indicates a winning or triumphant card; and therefore there can be no pretence for deriving it from tromper, whatever Ben Jonson might have thought to the contrary, who, in reality, seems only to indulge in a pun upon the word."

For instance: Capitolo's poem on Primero .... is this known? Seems to be an error about the author and is from Francesco Berni 1526, but did he write, that trionfi were a game for peasants? Or what means "consigned to the peasants"?


Gammar Gurton's needle

"The second example of pure native comedy is no less interesting than Schoolmaster Udall's play, though for a different reason. Gammer Gurton's Needle was performed at Christ's College, Cambridge, about 1566, and is attributed variously to Dr. John Still, Dr. John Bridges, and William Stevenson. Like Ralph, it is in five acts; the action takes place within one day, and the scene is the conventional street with houses. Beyond these details, Gammer owes nothing to the classic model. It is a lusty farce, with very little plot. Gammer Gurton has lost her needle, and Diccon the Bedlam, who has been loafing about the cottage, accuses a neighbor, Dame Chat of stealing it. With this incident begins a scandalous village row, in which the parson, the bailie, the constable and most of the neighbors one by one become entangled. The original trouble is lost sight of in the revival of old quarrels and hidden grudges. The neighbors come to blows, and confusion seems to reign, when a diversion is created by Dame Chat's finding the needle in the seat of the breeches of Hodge, the farmhand.

Gammer is often coarse and vulgar, with buffoonery of the slapstick variety, with no polish or intricacy of plot to tempt the intellect. It would be a morose person, however, who in good health could entirely withstand its fun. The characters belong to the English soil and have English blood in their veins. Diccon of Bedlam, who is in reality the cause of the whole fuss, is a new figure on the stage. When, under Henry VIII, the monasteries were broken up, there were left without home or patrons many poor, often half-witted people who had been accustomed to live on the bounty of the religious houses. These people became professional beggars and vagabonds, sometimes pretending to be mad in order to be taken care of. They were called Bedlam Beggars, Abraham Men, or Poor Toms."

The text of 2nd act, 2nd scene (with "trump" rather near to the beginning)

The .ii. Acte. The ii.
Diccon. Chat.

Fy shytten knaue, and out vpon thee
Aboue all other loutes fye on thee,
Is not here a clenly prancke?
But thy matter was no better
Nor thy presence here no sweter,
To flye I can the thanke:
Here is a matter worthy glosynge
Of Gammer Gurtons nedle losynge
And a foule peece of warke,
A man I thyncke myght make a playe
And nede no worde to this they saye
Being but halfe a Clarke.
Softe let me alone I will take the charge
This matter further to enlarge
Withm a tyme shorte,
If ye will marke my toyes and note
I will geue ye leaue to cut my throte
If I make not good sporte,
Dame Chat I say where be ye within?

Who haue we there maketh such a din:

Here is a good fellow maketh no great daunger,

What diccon? come nere ye be no straunger,
We be fast set at trumpe man hard by the fyre,
Thou shalt set on the king if thou come a litle nyer.

Nay, nay, there is no tarying: I must be gone againe
But first for you in councel I haue a word or twaine.

Come hether Dol, Dol, sit downe and play this game,
And as thou sawest me do, see thou do euen the same
Thereis 5. trumps beside the Queene, ye hindmost yu shalt finde her
Take hede of Sim glouers wife, she hath an eie behind her,
Now Diccon say your will.

Nay softe a litle yet,
I wold not tel it my sister, the inatter is so great,
There I wil haue you sweare by our dere Lady of Bullaine,
S Dunstoue, and S. Donnyke, with the three Kinges of Kullaine,
That ye shal keepe it secret.

Gogs bread that will I doo,
As secret as mine owne thought, by god aud the deuil two.

Here is gammer gurton your neighbour, a sad heuy wight
Her goodly faire red Cock, at home, was stole this last night.

Gogs soule her Cock with the yelow legs, yt nightly crowed so iust?

That cocke is stollen.

What was he fet out of the heus ruste?

I cau not tel where ye deuil he was kept, vnder key or locke,
But Tib hath tykled in Gaminers eare, that you shoulde steale the cocke

Haue I strouge hoore? by bread aud salte.

What softe I say be styl.
Say hot one word for all this geare.

By the inasse that I wyl,
I wil haue the yong hore by the head, & the old trot by ye throte

Not one word dame Chat I say, not one word for my cote.

Shall such a begars brawle as yt thinkest yu make me a theefe
The pocks light on her hores sydes, a pestlence & a mischeefe
Come out thou hungry nedy bytche, o that my nails be short.

Gogs bred woman hold your peace this gere wil els passe sport
I wold not for an hundred pound this matter shuld be knowen,
That I am auctour of this tale or haue abrode it blowen
Did ye not sweare ye wold be ruled before the tale I tolde
I said ye must all secret keepe and ye said sure ye wolde.

Wolde you suffer your selfe diccon such a sort, to reuile you
With slaunderous words to blot your name, & so to defile you?

No goodwife chat I wold be loth such drabs shulde blot my name
But yet ye must so order all, yt Diccon beare no blame.

Go to then, what is your rede? say on your minde, ye shall mee rule herein.

Godamercye to dame chat, in faith thou must the gere begin
It is twenty pound to a goose turd, my gammer will not tary
But hetherward she comes as fast as her legs can her cary,
To brawle with you about her cocke, for well I hard Tib say
The Cocke was rosted in your house, to breafast yesterday,
And when ye had the carcas eaten, the fethers ye out flunge
And Doll your maid the legs she hid a foote depe in the dunge.

0h gracyous god my harte it burstes.

Well rule your selfe a space
And gammer gurton when she commeth anon into thys place
Then to the Queane lets see tell her your inynd & spare not
So shall Diccon blamelesse bee, and then go to I care not.

Then hoore beware her throte, I can abide no longer
In faith old witch it shalbe seene, which of vs two be stronger
And Diccon but at your request, I wold not stay one howre.

Well keepe it in till she be here, and then out let it powre,
In the meane while get you in, and make no wordes of this
More of this matter wtin this howre to here you shall not misse
Because I know you are iny freind, hide it I cold not doubtles
Ye know your harm, see ye be wise about your owne busines
So fare ye well.

Nay soft Diccon and drynke, what Doll I say
Bringe here a cup of the best ale, lets see, come quicly awaye.