Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker

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Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker Page 43

by Thomas Dekker


  CAMPEIUS

  Name, Campeius.

  THIRD KING

  [Aside.] Campeius, umh!Capeius?A lucky planet

  Strikes out this hour.Capeius!Babylon

  His name hath in her tables.On his forehead

  Our queen hath set her mark.It is a mold

  Fit to cast mischief in.None sooner rent

  A church in two than scholars discontent.

  I must not lose this martin’s nest.[Aloud.] Once more,

  Y’are happily met.

  CAMPEIUS

  [Aside.] This burr still hangs on me!

  [Aloud.] And you, sir.

  THIRD KING

  Tell me, pray,

  Did you never taste — I’m bold — did you ne’er taste

  Those clear and redolent fountains that do nourish

  In vive and fresh humidity those plants

  That grow on t’other side, our opposites,

  Those that to us here are th’antipodes,

  Clean against us in grounds — you feel me — say

  Ne’er drunk you of that nectar?

  CAMPEIUS

  Never.

  THIRD KING

  Never!

  I wish you had.I gather from your eyes,

  What your disease is.I ha’ been yourself;

  This was Campeius once, though not so learn’d,

  For I was bred, as you, in Fairy Land.

  A country!Well, but ’tis our country, and so

  Good to breed beggars.She starves arts, fats fools,

  She sets up drinking rooms, and pulls down schools.

  CAMPEIUS

  So, sir.

  THIRD KING

  No more but so, sir?This discourse

  Palates you not.

  CAMPEIUS

  Yes.

  THIRD KING

  Nothing hath passed me

  I hope, against my country, or the state,

  That any can take hold of.

  CAMPEIUS

  If they could,

  ’Tis but mine aye, to your no.

  THIRD KING

  Y’are too sour,

  Unmellowed.You stand here in the shade

  Out of the warmth of those blest ripening beams.

  Go to.I grieve that such a blossom —

  CAMPEIUS

  Sir, I know you not.This thing which you have raz’d

  Affrights me; scholars of weak temper need

  To fear, as they on sunbanks lie to read,

  Adders i’th’highest grass.These leaves but turn’d

  Like willow sticks hard rubb’d may kindle fire,

  Cities with sparks as small have oft been burn’d.

  THIRD KING

  Do you take me for a hangman?

  CAMPEIUS

  I would be loath,

  For any harsh tune that my tongue may warble,

  To have the instrument unstrung.

  THIRD KING

  You shall not.

  Welfare unto you.

  CAMPEIUS

  And to you.A word, sir.

  Bred in this country?

  THIRD KING

  Yes.

  CAMPEIUS

  I am no bird

  To break mine own nest down.What flight soever

  Your words make through this air, though it be troubled,

  Mine ear, sir, is no reaching fowling piece,

  What passes through it, kills.You may proceed.

  Perhaps you would wound that.I wish should bleed.

  You have th’advantage now.

  I put the longest weapon into your hands.

  THIRD KING

  It shall guard you.

  You draw me by this line; let’s private walk.

  CAMPEIUS

  This path’s unbruis’d.Go on, sir.

  THIRD KING

  Sir, I love you.

  The dragons that keep learning’s golden tree,

  As you now have, I fought with, conquered them,

  Got to the highest bough, eat of the fruit,

  And gathered of the seven-fold leaves of art,

  What I desir’d; and yet for all the moons

  That I have seen wax old and pine for anger,

  I had outwatched them; and for all the candles

  I wasted out on long and frozen nights,

  To thaw them into day, I fill’d my head

  With books, but scarce could fill my mouth with bread.

  I had the Muses’ smile, but moneys frown,

  And never could get out of such a gown.

  CAMPEIUS

  How did you change your star?

  THIRD KING

  By changing air.

  The god of waves wash’d of my poverty,

  I sought out a new sun beyond the seas

  Whose beams begat me gold.

  CAMPEIUS

  O me!Dull ass!

  I am nail’d down by willful beggary,

  Yet feel not where it enters.Like a horse

  My hoofs are par’d to’th’quick, even till they bleed,

  To make me run from hence.Yet this tortoise shell,

  My country, lies so heavy on my back,

  Pressing my worth down, that I slowly creep

  Through base and slimy ways.

  THIRD KING

  Country!

  CAMPEIUS

  She hangs

  Her own brats at her back, to teach them beg,

  And in her lap sits strangers.

  THIRD KING

  Yet your country.

  CAMPEIUS

  I was not born to this, not school’d to this.

  My parents spent not wealth on me to this.

  I will not stay here long.

  THIRD KING

  Do not.

  CAMPEIUS

  Being hence,

  I’ll write in gall and poison gainst my nurse,

  This Fairy Land, for not rewarding merit.

  If ever I come back I’l lbe a calthrop

  To prick my country’s feet that tread on me.

  THIRD KING

  O, she’s unkind!Hard-hearted!

  CAMPEIUS

  In disputation

  I dare for Latin, Hebrew and the Greek,

  Challenge an university.Yes, O evil hap!

  Three learned languages cannot set a nap

  Upon this threadbare gown.How is art curs’d?

  She ha’s the sweetest limbs, and goes the worst,

  Like common fiddlers, drawing down others’ meat

  With lickerish tunes, whilst they on scraps do eat.

  THIRD KING

  Shake then these servile fetters off.

  CAMPEIUS

  But how?

  THIRD KING

  Play the mule’s part now thou hast suck’d a dam,

  Dry and unwholesome; kick her sides.

  CAMPEIUS

  Her heart, her very heart,

  Would it were dried to dust, to strew upon

  Th’invenomed paper upon which I’ll write.

  THIRD KING

  Know you the court of Babylon?

  CAMPEIUS

  I have read

  How great it is, how glorious, and would venture

  A soul to get but thither.

  THIRD KING

  Get then thither.

  You venture none, but save a soul going thither.

  The Queen of Babylon rides on a beast

  That carries up seven heads.

  CAMPEIUS

  Rare!

  THIRD KING

  Each head crown’d.

  Enter his Man like a sailor with rich attires under his arm.

  CAMPEIUS

  O admirable!

  THIRD KING

  She, with her own hand

  Will fill thee wine out of a golden bowl.

  There’s angels to conduct thee.Get to sea,

  Steal o’er, behold.Here’s one to waft thee hence.

  Take leave of none, tell none; th’art made.Farewell.

  CAMPEIU
S

  This to meet heaven, who would not wade through hell?

  [Exeunt CAMPEIUS and Sailor.Manent THIRD KING.

  Enter Sailor presently.

  THIRD KING

  To flee off this hypocrisy, ’tis time,

  Lest worn too long, the foxes skin be known.

  In out dissembling now we must be brave,

  Make me a courtier, come.Asses I see

  In nothing but in trappings, different be

  From footcloth nags, on which gay fellows ride,

  Save that such gallants gallop in more pride.

  Away.Stow under hatches that light stuff.

  ’Tis to be worn in Babylon.[Exit Sailor.

  At this grove,

  And much about this hour, a slave well moulded

  In profound learned villainy, gave oath

  To meet me.

  Enter Conjurer.

  Art thou come?Can thy black art

  This wonder bring to pass?

  CONJURER

  See, it is done.

  THIRD KING

  Titania’s picture right!

  CONJURER

  This virgin wax

  Bury I will in slimy putrid ground

  Where it may piecemeal rot.As this consumes,

  So shall she pine, and, after languor, die.

  These pins shall stick like daggers to her heart,

  And eating through her breast, turn there to gripings,

  Cramp-like convulsions, shrinking up her nerves

  As into this they eat.

  THIRD KING

  Thou art famed for ever.

  If these thy holy labours well succeed,

  Statues of molten brass shall rear thy name;

  The Babylonian Empress shall thee honour.

  And, for this, each day shalt thou go in chains.

  Where wilt thou bury it?

  CONJURER

  Upon this dunghill.

  THIRD KING

  Good.

  And bind it down with most effectual charms,

  That whosoever with unhallowed hands,

  Shall dare to take it hence, may rave and die.

  CONJURER

  Leave me.

  THIRD KING

  Farewell, and prosper.Be blind, you skies.

  You look on things unlawful with sore ears. [Exit.

  Dumb show.The hautboys sound, and whilst he is burying the picture, TRUTH and TIME enter, FIDELI, PARTHENOPHIL, ELFIRON, and a Guard following aloof.They discover the fellow; he is taken; the picture found; he kneels for mercy, but they, making sounds of refusal, he snatcheth at some weapon to kill himself, is prevented, and led away.

  Act Three, Scene One

  ENTER THE EMPRESS, Cardinals, First and Second KINGS, &c.

  EMPRESS

  Who sets those tunes to mock us?Stay them!

  OMNES

  Peace.

  FIRST KING

  Peace there.

  FIRST CARDINAL

  No more; your music must be dumb.

  EMPRESS

  When those celestial bodies that do move

  Within the sacred spheres of prince’s bosoms

  Go out of order, ’tis as if yon regiment

  Were all in uproar.Heaven should then be vex’d.

  Methinks such indignation should resemble

  Dreadful eclipses, that portend dire plagues

  To nations, fall to empires, death to kings,

  To cities devastation, to the world,

  That universal hot calamity

  Of the last horror.But our royal blood

  Beats in our veins like seas struggling for bounds.

  Ætna burns in us.Bearded comets shoot

  Their vengeance through our eyes.Our breath is lightning,

  Thunder our voice; yet, as the idle cannon,

  Strikes at the air’s invulnerable breast,

  Our darts are phillip’d back in mockery

  Wanting the points to wound.

  FIRST KING

  Too near the heart,

  Most royal Empress, these distempers sit.

  So please you, we’ll again assail her beauty

  In varied shapes, and work on subtler charms.

  Again love’s poisoned arrows we’ll let fly.

  EMPRESS

  No.Proud spirits once denying, still deny.

  FIRST CARDINAL

  Then be yourself, a woman.Change those overtures

  You made to her of an unusual peace,

  To an unused defiance; give your revenge

  A full and swelling sail, as from your greatness

  You took, in veiling to her; you have been

  Too cold in punishment, too soft in chiding,

  And like a mother, cause her years are green,

  Have wink’d at errors, hoping time, or councel,

  Or her own guilt, seeing how she goes awry,

  Would straighten all.You find the contrary.

  EMPRESS

  What follows?

  FIRST CARDINAL

  Sharp chastisement; leave the mother

  And be the stepdame.Wanton her no more

  On you indulgent knee.Sing no more pardons

  To her off-fallings, and her flyings out.

  But let it be a meritorious act;

  Make it a ladder for the soul to climb;

  Lift from the hinges all the gates of heaven

  To make way for him that shall kill her.

  OMNES

  Good.

  FIRST CARDINAL

  Give him an office in yon star-chamber,

  Or else a saint’s place, and canonize him.

  So sanctify the arm that takes her life,

  That silly souls may go on pilgrimage,

  Only to kiss the instrument that strikes,

  As a most reverent relic.

  EMPRESS

  Be it so.

  FIRST KING

  In that one word she expires.

  EMPRESS

  Her Fairy lords,

  That play the pilots now and steer her kingdom

  In foulest weather, as white bearded corn

  Bows his proud head before th’imperial winds,

  Shall so lie groveling here when that day comes.

  FIRST KING

  And that it shall come, Fates themselves prepare.

  EMPRESS

  True, but old lions hardly fall into the snare.

  FIRST KING

  Is not the good and politic Satyran,

  Our leagued brother and your vassal sworn,

  Even now, this very minute, sucking close

  Their fairest bosoms?If his trains take well,

  They have strange workings, downwards, into hell.

  EMPRESS

  That Satyran is this hand; his brains a forge

  Still working for us; he’s the true set clock

  By which we go, and of our hours doth keep

  The numbered strokes, when we lie bound in sleep.

  FIRST CARDINAL

  Besides such voluntaries as will serve

  Under your holy colours and forsake

  The Fairy standard; all such fugitives

  Whose hearts are Babylonized; all the mutineers;

  All the damn’d crew that would for gold tear off

  The devil’s beard; all scholars that do eat

  The bread of sorrow, want and discontent,

  Wise Satyran takes up, presses apparels

  Their backs like innocent lambs, their minds like wolves,

  Rubs o’er their tongues with poison which they spet

  Against their own anointed, their own country,

  Their very parent.And thus ships ’em hither

  To make ’em yours.

  EMPRESS

  To use.

  FIRST CARDINAL

  Only to employ them

  As bees, whilst they have stings, and bring thighs laden

  With honey, hive them when they are drones, destroy them.

  FIRST KING
<
br />   The earnest which he give you, adored Empress,

  Are two fit engines for us.

  EMPRESS

  Are they wrought?

  SECOND KING

  They are, and wait in court your utmost pleasure.

  Out of your cup made we them drink with wines

  To sound their hearts, which they with such devotion

  Received down, that even whilst Bacchus swum

  From lip to lip in midst of taking healths,

  They took their own damnation if their blood,

  As those grapes, stream’d not forth to effect your good.

  EMPRESS

  Let us behold these fireworks that mustrun

  Upon short lines of life, yet will we use them

  Like instruments of music, play on them

  A while for pleasure, and then hang them by;

  Who princes can upbraid, ’tis good they die.

  For as in building sumptuous palaces,

  We climb by base and slender scaffoldings

  Till we have raised the frame; and that being done,

  To grace the work, we take the scaffolds down;

  So must we these.We know they love us not,

  But swallow-like when their own summer’s past,

  Here seek for heat, or like slight travellers,

  Swoll’n with vainglory or with lust to see,

  They come to observe fashions and not me.

  FIRST KING

  As travellers use them then, till they be gone,

  Look cheerfully, backs turn’d, n more throught upon.

  EMPRESS

  What are they that fly hither, to our bosom,

  But such as hang the wing, such as want nests;

  Such as have no sound feathers; birds so poor

  They scarce are worth the killing; with the lark,

  The morning’s falconer, so they may mount high,

  Care not how base and low their risings be?

  What are they but lean hungry crows that tire

  Upon the mangled quarters of a realm?

  And on the housetops of nobility,

  If there they can but sir, like fatal ravens,

  Or screech-owls, croak their falls and hoarsely bode

  Nothing but scaffolds and unhallowed graves?

  FIRST KING

  Fitter for us, yet sit they here like doves.

  EMPRESS

  True; like corrupted churchmen they are doves

  That have eat carrion.Home we’ll therefore send

  Those busy-working spiders to the walls

  Of their own country, when their venomous bags,

  Which they shall stuff with scandals, libels, treasons,

  Are full and upon bursting.Let them there

  Weave in their politic looms nets to catch flies.

  To us they are put pothecary drugs,

  Which we will take as physical pills, not food.

  Use them as lancets to let others blood,

  That have foul bodies; care not whom you wound,

  Not what parts you cut off to keep this sound.

  OMNES

  Here come they.

  Enter CAMPEIUS and ROPUS.

  EMPRESS

 

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