1. The latest volume of the Revels Plays edition of the plays of John Lyly, edited by George K. Hunter and David Bevington, deals with the two plays edited by Anne Lancashire for the Regents Renaissance Drama Series in 1970 – exactly thirty years ago. It seems appropriate, therefore, to compare the two editions to see what has changed in Lyly studies and in Renaissance or early modern drama studies in the last three decades. One obvious change springs to mind: Lancashire was writing in a time when 'early modern' was a term that had not yet made its way into literary studies of the period traditionally designated as 'Renaissance'. Now, however, it seems clear that the term 'early modern' is not merely an alternative to 'Renaissance', but rather a literary-historical discourse with a quite different agenda, largely informed by recent developments in literary theory and cultural studies. Looking at the two editions in this broadly panoramic view, there will inevitably be some disappointment in store for early-modernists, particularly in the case of Hunter's introduction to Galatea. This play has attracted a good deal of attention in recent years because of its frank emphasis on female same-sex love; perhaps it is even beginning to rival Endymion as the Lyly play. But Hunter relegates discussion of this new work to a foot-note, with a rather dismissively parenthetical allusion to 'studies of "gender" in the Renaissance' (24). Other areas of his introduction – sources, dramaturgy, the court-play – are sound but unexciting, especially when compared with the excellent introduction he wrote for the Revels Campaspe in 1991. His comments on Galatea seemed rather tired; certainly they do not do justice to the advances in Lyly studies that have been made since the Lancashire edition of 1970.

2. Bevington's introduction to Midas is much fresher. Doubtless, the fact that so little has been written about this play makes it easier to make a novel contribution to its study; but even so, I think that Bevington's location of the play within the traditions of a specifically 'Tudor' drama – '[m]id-century and early Elizabethan drama' (121) – opens up a new perspective on Lyly's drama as a whole. His comparison of Midas with Thomas Preston's Cambises is extremely suggestive, and would work well with Campaspe, too. Bevington also makes some useful comments on generic diversity in the same connection. He gives an account of various allegorical possibilities, paying special attention to the play's topical allegory (it alludes to Philip II of Spain). This line of approach is handled much more successfully than his similar arguments in his Revels edition of Endymion, which are, however, to some extent retrospectively confirmed (and see his article on the two plays in the 1998 volume of Comparative Drama). On the whole, then, Bevington's introduction really is a useful piece of work, and anyone who wants to know something about the play would be well advised to start with this new essay.

3. Both plays are very well edited. Neither play offers many textual problems, since the copy-texts – the first editions, both printed in 1592 – are so good that it seems likely Lyly saw them through the press. Nevertheless, Hunter and Bevington are able to make some helpful contributions to the textual tradition, particularly in their deployment of stage-directions. The Revels texts are marked by the 'thoroughness of their annotation' (viii); and these two new additions to the series are no exception. The editors have diligently included old and new classical sources; they are also good on paraphrase. Occasionally, however, I felt that some of the annotation was uneconomical, particularly in Galatea. Hunter tends here to use more notes than is necessary (as in Prologue 1); and there are occasions when he should have taken Bevington's lead in providing a Longer Note (as in 1.1.15-39). But on the whole the notes are clear and very full, and demonstrate that the editors have taken advantage of recent scholarship. (Neither seems to have consulted my own 1996 book on The Plays of John Lyly, which seems strange, since it came out in the Companion Library to the series in which their new Lyly edition is gradually appearing. Was it something I said?) There are, however, a surprising number of errors which have escaped the copy-editor's eye. We hear of new plays such as 'Campaspe and Sappho and Phao' (4) and 'Mother Mumbie' (263); Lyly now has property in 'Mexboro' (5), which is presumably close to Marlboro, though perhaps not really 'near' (32) the Humber (it is thirty miles away); and was Nashe's Almond really written in 1990 (114)? These slips amuse more than they jar; but the text needs correction before it comes out – as I trust it will – in a welcome paper-back edition.

4. To conclude where we began, with a comparison of this volume with Lancashire's 1970 edition of the same plays, it seems fair to say that the main advance has been in the density and quantity of commentary, but that there is a curiously retrospective feel to the introductions. No doubt this is to some extent inevitable. Both editors have tried to give a generous account of previous scholarship, which tends to give their work a conservative look. But – with the exceptions noted above – the introductions do not open up new perspectives on the plays to any great degree, which is both disappointing and surprising, especially given the importance of Lyly to recent discussions of gender in the early modern theatre. However, the editors should still be congratulated on producing such accurate and copiously annotated modern-spelling texts of Galatea and Midas, to which students and scholars alike will turn as the authoritative editions of these plays for many years to come.

MIKE PINCOMBE
UNIVERSITY OF NEWCASTLE