Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker

by Thomas Dekker

  That Sword is seldome drawne, by which is meant,

  It should strike seldome: neuer th’innocent.

  Tis held before thee by anothers Hand,

  But the point vpwards (heauen must that co¯mand)

  Snatch it not then in Wrath; it must be giuen,

  But to cut none, till warranted by Heauen.

  The Head, the politike Body must aduance

  For which thou hast this Cap of Maintenance,

  And since the most iust Magistrate often erres,

  Thou guarded art about with Officers,

  Who knowing the Oathes of Others that are gone,

  Should teach thee what to do, what leaue vndone.

  Nights Candles lighted are, and burne amaine,

  Cut therefore here off, Thy Officious Traine

  Which Loue and Custome lend thee: All Delight

  Crowne both this Day and Citty: A good Night

  To Thee, and these Graue Senators, to whom

  My last Fare-wels, in these glad wishes come,

  That thou & they (whose strength the City beares)

  May be as old in Goodnesse as in Yeares.

  THE Title-page of this Booke makes promise of all the Shewes by water, as of these On the Land; but Apollo hauing no hand in them, I suffer them to dye by that which fed them; that is to say, Powder & Smoake. Their thunder (according to the old Gally-foyst-fashion) was too lowd for any of the Nine Muses to be bidden to it. I had deuiz’d One, altogether Musicall, but Times Glasse could spare no Sand, nor lend conuenient Howres for the performance of it. Night cuts off the glory of this Day, and so consequently of these Triumphes, whose brightnesse beeing ecclipsed, my labours can yeeld no longer shadow. They are ended, but my Loue and Duty to your Lordship shall neuer.

  — Non displicuisse meretur,

  Festinat (Prætor) Qui placuisse Tibi.

  FINIS.

  The Welsh Ambassador (1623)

  CONTENTS

  Dramatis Personæ

  Act One, Scene One

  Act One, Scene Two

  Act One, Scene Three

  Act Two, Scene One

  Act Two, Scene Two

  Act Two, Scene Three

  Act Three, Scene One

  Act Three, Scene Two

  Act Three, Scene Three

  Act Four, Scene One

  Act Four, Scene Two

  Act Four, Scene Three

  Act Five, Scene One

  Act Five, Scene Two

  Act Five, Scene Three

  Dramatis Personæ

  ATHELSTANE, King of England.

  EDMUND, his

  ELDRED, brothers.

  THE DUKE OF CORNWALL.

  PENDA, his son.

  DUKE OF COLCHESTER.

  The PRINCE,

  EARL OF KENT.

  EARL OF CHESTER.

  BISHOP OF WINCHESTER.

  VOLTIMAR, a captain.

  A Servant

  The Clown.

  DUCHESS CARINTHA, wife to CORNWALL

  ARMANTE, daughter of Colchester

  Act One, Scene One

  ENTER THE DUKE OF CORNWALL, the EARLS OF CHESTER and MERCIA, and EDWIN; ELFRED and EDMOND, the KING’s brothers, disguised like soldiers.

  CORNWALL

  Your business?

  EDMUND

  To the king.

  ELFRED

  And mine.

  CORNWALL

  Whence come you?

  EDMUND

  From France.

  ELDRED

  And from France I.

  Enter the KING.

  KING

  Which are they that come from France.These?

  OMNES

  Yes, sir.

  KING

  How is it with our army we sent thither

  Under the conduct of out two valiant brothers,

  Edmund and Eldred and that far-fam’d Penda,

  Son to our new-made Duke of Cornwall here?

  ELDRED

  I lay far off from Penda’s regiment

  Nor know I what fate follows him.

  EDMOND

  Nor I.

  ELDRED

  From Eldred’s tent I come.

  EDMOND

  And I from Edmond’s.

  KING

  Hinder not one another.Take time.Speak both.

  ELDRED

  Your brother Eldred’s slain.

  OMNES

  Ha, the prince slain?

  EDMOND

  Ravens, I see, fly together.Of his fall

  Can I sigh nothing; though into the world,

  This pair of princes came not hand in hand,

  Death hath a mind, it seems, to have them twins,

  For Edmond is slain too.

  CORNWALL

  Both princes lost?

  KING

  Look I not pale, so much blood being drawn from me

  As made two brothers?Here is yet their honours:

  They died like princes on the beds of danger

  And like men fighting.

  Enter PENDA like a common soldier.

  CHESTER

  Here’s another soldier.

  CORNWALL

  And gladder news I hope.

  KING

  When com’st thou?

  PENDA

  The last battle fought in France.

  KING

  Mischief sits on thy brow too.

  PENDA

  If, sir, you are perfect

  Already in the history clasp’d up here,

  What need the book be open’d?

  KING

  Our princely brothers,

  Eldred and Edmond’s slain.Are these the news?

  PENDA

  No.This I hear but know not.The French epitaph

  I bring is of young Penda.

  CORNWALL

  Epitaph?

  PENDA

  He cut his way to immortality,

  Through dangers, which to see but put in picture

  Would startle a brave soldier.

  CORNWALL

  Slain?

  PENDA

  Sir, I saw him

  Fall with more wounds upon his breast than years,

  Yet far more spirit than wounds.

 
  He die>d no coward then.

 

  rnwall a< > ld < >

  CORNWALL

  Sir, had I stood but by to see my boy

  Acted what he speaks, I would have clapp’d my hands,

  And though I will not mourn for him in black,

  I cannot for my heart hinder mine eyes

  From dropping this warm balsam into’s wounds

  Though it do no good but wash them.Now I ha’ done,

  His funeral is past by.To his sad wife

  I’ll go and tell the news. [Exit.

  KING

  And comfort her.

  He will be drown’d too.Pray go and comfort him.

  CHESTER

  I shall.

  KING

  Soldiers, your names.

  ELDRED

  Mine Uffa.

  EDMOND

  And mine, Gildas.

  KING

  See us anon. [Exeunt ELDRED and EDMOND.

  And how art thou call’d?

  PENDA

  Conon.

  KING

  A Saxon?

  PENDA

  Yes.

  KING

  And how saw’st thou Penda fall?

  PENDA

  I did, and help’d to tear the scaffoldings down

  That did support his life.Please you, read this.[Gives a paper.

  KING

  Whose?

  PENDA

  Captain Voltimar’s.

  KING

  Oh, Voltimar’s.

  PENDA

  When hottest wear the fires, and that the battle

  Flam’d in wild uproars, Voltimar — and I,

  Set on by him — struck both our well-aim’d swords

/>   Through Penda’s back.

  KING

  Here all he writes; ’tis done.

  PENDA

  ’Tis done, and ’twas your will to have it done.

  Your oaths too, flew to France when it was done

  To pay us gold.

  KING

  Did Voltimar tell thee that too?

  Thou canst not sure but be an honest man,

  A wondrous honest man, whom Voltimar

  Would turn into a cabinet to lock

  A treasure of this value in’t.My brother —

  Heaven speed ’em on their voyage, ambitious boys!

  Hard feathers shall no more now stuff my pillow,

  But Penda stood between me and a prize

  Worth a whole mass of kingdoms.

  PENDA

  I understand you not.

  KING

  I would not have thee yet; thou shalt hereafter

  Understand this:the whilst, with thy best speed

  Ask to the Duke of Cornwall, the old fellow

  That cried here for that Penda— ’twas his son —

  And let his daughter hear it from the lips,

  Her husband’s dead.She’ll not believe it else.

  PENDA

  But, sir, if to this duke you in some fit

  Should tell what I have done —

  KING

  I tell?Hang padlocks

  Best on your own lips, you and Voltimar.

  Should you blab all, this can outface you both.

  Look to’t.

  PENDA

  I am lesson’d. [Exit.

  Enter EDMOND and ELDRED.

  KING

  Uffa and Gildas, ha,

  Hit I your names right?

  BOT
  Ye>s, sir.

 

 
  < > Penda’s loss too, a noble fel

  < d >ly <>

  EDMOND

  Unless your majesty

  Command my service I will o’er again.

  ELDRED

  And I.

  KING

  Your service state; we shall employ you

  In troub’d steams, which if you dare convey —

  ELDRED

  Dare!

  EDMOND

  Try us.

  KING

  So, you shall have golden pay. [Exeunt.

  Act One, Scene Two

  ENTER CARINTHA, CORNWALL and CHESTER.

  CARINTHA

  Where is his body?Let me see but that.

  CORNWALL

  Now as we came along, we heard his body,

  After the French had seized it, could by no force

  Gold or entreaties be rescued, for in triumph

  Away the spoil they hurried.

  CHESTER

  And you must, lady,

  Make up your great loss by sweet patience

  To keep your heart from breaking.His noble father,

  You see, plays the physician to restore you

  When his own sickness is more desperate;

  Nor must it be your torment now to look o’er

  Th’accompts of Penda’s valour, youth, or virtues,

  For he’s run out of all, but so well spent

  You cannot at the layings out repent.

  CARINTHA

  I do not.

  CHESTER

  Please you, lady, hear the soldier

  That tells the perfect story of his death.

  ‘Twill so delight you that he outwent man

  In’s doings.You’ll scarce wish him here again.

  CARINTHA

  That soldier sung me the funeral anthem

  Ere you or the king heard it.I thank you loves

  For this your tracts of consolation,

  But, sir, methinks I were best comfort you.

  You have a manly way to fight with grief,

  Yet I that am a woman can ward off

  The blows better than you.I ha’ lost a husband,

  A son you.If you will make our wracks even,

  And here’s the balance — he’s gone well to heaven.

  Penda, my noblest love, for’s country died,

  And is not so much mourn’d for as envied,

  For the brave end he made.Three times he flew,

  Like an arm’d thunder, into the thickest French,

  And with the lightening of his sword made way

  As great winds do through woods, rooting up oaks;

  So reel’d the armies building at his strokes.

  Must not I proudlier hear this than behold him

  Break twenty staves i’th’tiltyard?’Tis more honour.

  Could I wed twenty husbands, I would wish

  Their glories in this world to be no greater,

  Their fate no worse, and their farewell no better.

  CORNWALL

  Thou art a noble girl.

  CHESTER

  And teachest all of us

  To put on the best armour.Here comes the soldier.

  Enter PENDA, disguised as CONON.

  PENDA

  The king for fear these lords, as loath to wound you,

  Should fail in some points of your husband’s story,

  Sends me to speak it fully, that your sorrows

  May know what they must trust to, and not stagger

  In hope that he’s alive, for these eyes aw>

  CORINTHA

  d.

  PENDA

  I sung not this to you before.

  CARINTHA

  < > a bad suit to< .>

  Enter KING.

  KING

  By this his coming

  To dry the widow’s tears up, ’tis a sign

  He would not have her kill herself with weeping.

  CARINTHA

  My cheeks have not been wet, sir.

  KING

  Pity to drown

  Such a rush land of beauty in salt water.

  Pray, let her be my patient.I have physic

  Were she eaten up with anguish shall again

  Put life into her, though her soul and she

  Were shaking hands.

  CORNWALL

  Apply your physic, sir.

  CHESTER

  We shall be proud of her recovery. [Exeunt CORNWALL and CHESTER.

  KING

  Who now shall pluck Carintha from mine arms?

  Before a fatal matrimonial chain

  Lay cross our ways, mine to a wish’d-for bed,

  Thine to a crown.Both rocks are now remov’d.

  We both have sea room, sit thou at helm alone;

  The ship my kingdom, and the sails my throne.

  CARINTHA

  Brave voyage,

  Who would not venture.Are the destinies

  Your spinsters that when you cry cut that thread,

  ’Tis done?

  KING

  I am puzzl’d.A riddle?

  CARINTHA

  ’Tis here resolv’d:

  I know — at least a spirit within me prompts it —

  Penda was shipp’d for France that Athelstane

  Might without danger besiege his fort.

  KING

  ’Tis true.

  CARINTHA

  And win it if he could.

  KING

  I’ll practise

  What engines a whole kingdom can invent

  But I will enter it.

  CARINTHA

  You shall never force it.

  ’Tis yielded, sir, on composition.

  KING

  Name it.

  CARINTHA

  To be your queen.

  KING

  We’ll to church instantly.

  CARINTHA

  Were I lady, lock’d in a brazen tower,

  And that a prince but spied me, passing by,

  I’d leap, wert ne’er so high, into his arms,

  Beckon’d he for me; the name of prince should bear it.

  I’d spurn at Indian
hills of new-tried gold

  To come to his embraces; but to a king’s —

  KING

  Never such music; ’tis some angel sings.

  Tomorrow we’ll be married.

  CARINTHA

  Not for ten kingdoms.

  I must awhile in mourning mask mine eyes

  To stop the world’s tongue, and to temporize

  With Penda’s father.

  KING

  Do so then.

  CARINTHA

  Besides,

  There’s a duke’s daughter, whom men call Armante,

  Contracted to you under your own hand

  And has by you a son.Untie that knot,

  Unwind that bottom, I’m yours; otherwise —

  KING

  Not.

  I’ll do’t with my little finger.

  Enter WINCHESTER.

  My lord of Winchester, in happy time

  You come to be my good physician.

  WINCHESTER

  First let me know your sickness.

  KING

  There is, you know,

  A contract written under mine own hand,

  Seal’d by yourself and other witnesses.

  WINCHESTER

  Between the lady Armante and your highness.

  KING

  Right, my spiritual surgeon.Step you to her

  And cure her ever I come of that wild frenzy

  at sts her tongue a-railing.Bid her make ready

  t, for by all my hopes, dear father,

  e married, and wipe off

  the princely bo

  I got upon her body.She shall change

  Her name of a king’s concubine to a queen.

  WINCHESTER

  I would not for what lies beneath the moon

  Be made a wicked engine to break in pieces

  That holy contract.

  KING

  ’Tis my aim to tie it

  Upon a knot never to be undone.

  Go to my dear Armante; tell her I am hers

  At first by oath and now by conscience.

  WINCHESTER

  I am happy in the message. [Exit

  Enter COLCHESTER.

  KING

  My lord of Colchester, the man I look for.

  COLCHESTER

  And you the man I look for, my dear liege.

  KING

  Thou hast a buxom cheek, a jovial front.

  COLCHESTER

  Have I not cause when the blood royal roons

  Into some part of mine?My girl, king’s mistress.

  My grandchild, one of Jupiter’s scapes, your son.

  KING

  Ha, ha!

  COLCHESTER

  He was got laughing, he laughs so too.

  He has your own eyes; there’s his nose, his lip,

  His gait just yours, a leg and foot like yours;

  But yours is somewhat more calf.King, he’s thine own,

  For when he plays at trap, of all the boys,

  He must be king too, all call him the young prince.

  KING