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 in prose, as we should expect from the founder of so famous a prose style; but as _The Supposes_, a translation by Gascoigne of Ariosto's _I Suppositi_, had previously appeared in prose, Lyly's claim as an innovator is weakened. The fact, however, that Ariosto wrote a prose, as well as a poetic, version of his play, and that Gascoigne made use of both in his translation, gives to the latter's prose a borrowed quality, and leaves Lyly fully entitled to whatever credit belongs to the earliest native productions of this kind. He was the first to announce, by practice, the theory that English comedy could find fuller expression in prose than in verse, for, beginning with verse, he deliberately set it aside in favour of prose, and, having proved the superiority of prose for this purpose, persisted in it to the end. Of his eight plays, the more interesting only will be dealt with here; the rest we leave to the curiosity of the reader. _Campaspe_, his first prose comedy, is perhaps the most perfect example of the new euphuistic method at work. The plot is of the slightest. Alexander the Great is in love with the beauty of Campaspe, a Theban captive; but Apelles, the artist, who is ordered to paint her picture, having also fallen in love with her, and won her love, Alexander in the end graciously resigns his claim upon her. This is the plot, but it is very little guide to the contents of the play, which is crowded with characters. There are, in addition to the three leading persons, four Warriors to discuss the condition of the army, seven Philosophers to puzzle each other with disputation and metaphysical conundrums, three Servants to deride their masters behind their backs, a General to act as Alexander's confidant and counsellor, beside some nine others and a company of citizens. One of the chief characters, Diogenes, stands quite apart from the plot, his office being to provide an inexhaustible fund of shrewd, biting retorts for such as dare to question him. He is even elevated to the centre of a major episode in which the Athenian populace, credulous of a report that he is about to fly, is deceived into hearing a very sharp sermon as, on the wings of criticism, Diogenes executes an oratorical flight over their many failings. The following scene between him and a beggar reveals the nature of his wit. _Alexander_ (_aside_). Behold Diogenes talking with one at his tub. _Crysus._ One penny, Diogenes; I am a Cynic. _Diogenes._ He made thee a beggar, that first gave thee anything.