Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker

by Thomas Dekker

  ELDRED

  And three men was we-a.

  CLOWN

  English.

  EDMOND

  Irish.

  ELDRED

  And prave Welse.

  OMNES

  And turn about knaves all three-a. [Exeunt.

  Act Five, Scene Three

  Flourish.Enter KING, WINCHESTER, CORNWALL, and CARTHINTA; ARMANTE and VOLTIMAR following.

  KING

  My lord of Winchester, thanks for this physic,

  But ere you came I had an antidote

  T’expel the strongest poison.

  WINCHESTER

  But, sir, however —

  KING

  Your love is not the less, and I shall pay you

  In better coin than words.

  Enter COLCHESTER and KENT.

  Oh, my good lord,

  For all methinks I am compass’d in with friends,

  I sit a-cold without you.

  COLCHESTER

  From an old man, sir,

  There can come little heat, yet what I have

  Is ready for your service.

  KING

  Where are those lords,

  Your noble kindred?

  COLCHESTER

  Oh, busy for the masque, sir.

  KING

  This night shall here fix artificial stars

  To burn out till the morn bring in the sun

  To put their fires out by his golden flames,

  Whilst they shall fall dim too when the two brides

  Shall dazzle with their eyes the kind of day,

  Who frets that he so long must keep away

  And not behold out pastimes.

  ARMANTE

  Is he without then?

  VOLTIMAR

  Yes, madam.

  ARMANTE

  An odd conceited fellow, once my servant,

  Has, as I’m told, writ some strange chronicle

  And is to me a suitor to speak for him,

  To have your majesty pleas’d to cast away

  A few loose minutes but to hear what wonders

  His wit brings forth.

  KING

  With all my heart, sweet lady.

  CARINTHA

  ‘Twill be a foil to the night’s brighter glories

  As a blackamore by a Venus.Pray, sir, let’s have him.

  CORNWALL

  New chronicler?Let’s not lose him.

  KING

  Fetch him in, Voltimar.

  VOLTIMAR

  I shall, sir.

  Enter Clown with a book.

  KING

  This he?

  CLOWN

  I am he, sir.

  COLCHESTER

  Is that your chronicle?Hast writ such a volume already?

  CLOWN

  No, my lord, it is not all of mine own writing.This is a < > fire fed from time to time with the faggots and some < >ins of other men’s wit.I have only pick’d up a bundle < >dry stick to maintain the blaze.

  WINCHESTER

  Your chronicle begins with Brut, the son of Silvius, the son of Ascanius, the son of Æneas as other chronicles of England do, dost not?

  CLOWN

  Brut?No, my lord.Think you I will make brute beasts of counI were a sweet brute then I here.Where was Cassius when Brutus was here?

  KING

  Thou sayst well for that.

  CLOWN

  To tell you true, my chronicle is not an egg laid as others have been, mine is an ephemerides foretelling telling what shall happen in kings’ reigns to come, for that that’s past we all know.

  CORNWALL

  This is a harder way; saddle your horse. Pray, let’s see what pace it keep.

  VOLTIMAR

  Get up and ride.You must spur, cut, and away.

  CLOWN

  I name no kings and so bring nameless you know men are blameless.

  WINCHESTER

  So, so, to your chronicle.

  CLOWN

  In such a king’s reign, and in the year 1217, in the month of December about Christmas, when every nobleman means to keep open house and good hospitality, such terrible winds will arise that all the fires shall be blown out of their kitchens, all the good cheer out of their halls, all the servingmen out of their coats, and all their poor tenants out of their wits.

  COLCHESTER

  But, sirrah, when these winds are laid, the spits may be turning again.

  CLOWN

  They may so, they shall go to the fire and be ready to turn when in shall come a caroach and four Flanders mares, a coachman, and a page, and they shall run away with more meat, then would serve three hundred creatures in blue that stand at livery.

  CARINTHA

  Here’s a strange chronicle!

  ARMANTE

  Hast any more such stuff?

  CLOWN

  In the year 1231 men and women shall to entail themselves up an other, that ladies scarlet petticoats shall make gentleman little gallipot breeches.

  KING

  So, good charity when they cover one another.

  CLOWN

  In the year 1354 bread will be so scarce that lords shall be glad to eat pie crust.

  CORNWALL

  A terrible time.

  CLOWN

  In the year 1472 on Saint Lawrence day at noon must a woman be burnt in Smithfield and before night five Carmen burnt in Turnball Street, and four gentlemen in Bloomsbury.

  COLCHESTER

  Hot doings.

  CLOWN

  In the year 1499 bawdy houses will so increase that to suppress the number of them, women shall fain to keep tobacco shops.

  CORNWALL

  A good way.

  CLOWN

  In the year 1561 cap will be so intolerable dear that Powels shall not get on to fit him for any money.

  WINCHESTER

  Pity the church should stand bare.

  CLOWN

  In the year 1600 Newgate shall so swarm with thieves that millers shall be fain to grind near Bun-hill and yet a number of tailors shall live bravely in the Strand.

  COLCHESTER

  There’s no hurt in that.

  CLOWN

  But now in the reign of this king here in the years 1621, 22, and 23 such a wooden fashion will com eup that he who walks not with a battoon shall be held no gallant.

  WINCHESTER

  Battoon?What’s that?

  CLOWN

  A kind of cudgel no longer than that which a water spaniel carries cross his chops.You have seen shapperoons and maqueroons and baboons, and laroons, and petoons, and gogs noons, but this lining of Plymouth cloak — called the battoon — is a stuff but new cut out of the loom.

  KING

  What are battoons good for?

  CLOWN

  Please your majesty to hear the virtues, my chronicle shall bombast them before you.

  KING

  Come on then.First, why is it call’d a battoon?

  CLOWN

  ’Tis a French word, le baston, that’s as much to a professor of the needle rail at a < > with his battoon pay him something < >.

  KING

  Ver

  CLOWN,

  If a gallant promise a rich gown of petticoat to a gentlewoman so she will undertake a business for him, he needs trouble no tailor to take the altitude, longitude or profundity of her body, for his own measure is within reach.

  COLCHESTER

  What more?

  CLOWN

  This: if a gentleman be disarm’d by a broker of his weapon, he loses no honour if he stick to his wooden dagger.

  CORNWALL

  What more?

  CLOWN

  In cold weather a crew of roaring boys being in a tavern with little emoney may, to save fire, make faggots of their battoons and burn ’em in one place, and cut battoons out of faggots in another.

  CARINTHA

  Pretty commodities.

  WINCHESTER

  But
what are now the discommodities?

  CLOWN

  One only inconvenience, my lord, leans upon it and that is the battoon being a kind of French crutch, many by walking with it may be suspected to have corns on his toes when they are as sound as I am.

  VOLTIMAR

  The masquers, sir, are ready.

  CORNWALL

  Hence with the chronicler.

  KING

  We’ll hear him out at leisure.

  CLOWN

  At leisure then I shall give my attendance. [Exit.

  Hautboys.EnterEDMOND.

  EDMOND

  Leave de catterwawling noise, cut of de goose necks of de fiddles and hand dine own eck in de strings.

  KING

  Why, how now, Teage, what’s the matter that your tongue runs so.

  EDMOND

  It runs out a mine Irish wits, crees sa me, de masters — da halters eat ’em — be all together by de ears, der scurvy wodden faces be tore in a towsand pieces.

  WINCHESTER

  How?The masquers quarrel?

  KING

  See, Cornwall, Colchester.Captain, you too.

  [Exeunt COLCHESTER, CORNWALL, and KENT.

  EDMOND

  A little towsand boy tell two hundred a de self, and a woman dow gots wid child and so anger my master de ambassador, he takes so terrible deal of Welsh pepper up into his nose, ’tis y’faat’la as read as a hot warden pie.

  Enter PENDA and ELDRED.

  PENDA

  Pud trigs upon a Welseman!Yes, when can tell?Does her masesty invite to fine seer of cunny pies, and set your shraps and offals and pones and tog’s meat with awl knawn before her?

  KING

  The meaning of this fury?

  PENDA

  Reece tell her furies is mad as horn pull.

  ELDRED

  Here is awl her furies.Her laties there, who was to marry into her lord’s consanguinities, is a cow has a great calf run by her sides, has pourn a pastard.

  KING

  Who dare report this?

  PENDA

  There are porters enow, see, yet shall fide for her too.

  Enter CORNWALL with his sword drawn, after him COLCHESTER and KENT, drawn, the PRINCE like Cupid; VOLTIMAR keeps in the midst; PENDA, EDMOND, and ELDRED draw and guard the KING; WINCHESTER and Ladies step between all.

  CORNWALL

  Look to your life, sir, traitorous Colchester

  And his false-hearted faction envying the peace

  Of your court pastimes, thus with weapons drawn

  Set your whole court in uproar.

  KING

  Masque turn’d to massacre?

  COLCHESTER

  Not, royal sir, to touch your life.

  OMNES

  What then?

  PRINCE

  I’ll tell you what ’tis.I begun this broil

  And let me end it.I to this Welsh lord

  Swore he should never call me son-in-law

  Nor call my mother wife.

  PENDA

  Wife, yes, when was hang and trawn in her quarters.

  PRINCE

  I told him that my father was a king

  And that my mother should not dwell in Wales

  But be a queen in England.

  ELDRED

  Wales is well rid upon her.

  PRINCE

  And this brake of the masque I should ha’ been, you see, a Cupid in’t.

 

  Master Vulcans an antedated cuckolds to cry ptrooh at.

 

  is prince come we thus arm’d with justice.

 

  < > wretched, not a fond silly lady

  < r fo s er w mo >

  For here’s our resolution to proclaim

  This prince your heir, and this contracted lady

  Your wife, ere any else step to your throne.

  KING

  Do you threaten?

  OMNES

  Yes.

  KING

  Oh, you weak-sighted lords!

  King’s thoughts fly from the reach of common eyes.

  ’Tis true our first intentions wee poison’d arrows

  Shot at the heart of Penda.I then not car’d —

  T’enjoy his wife — so half mankind had fell;

  But better spirits me guided Voltimar.

  This was my dial, whose going true set all

  My mad hours right.

  VOLTIMAR

  I play’d the honest conjurer; when devils to be rais’d I put ang into the same circles.

  CARINTHA

  T’increase your angels number, here are hands

  Wrought in this school of magic.

  ARMANTE

  And was not I a good proficient with you?

  PRINCE

  My lords, you are gull’d.I ha’ play’d the little juggler too.

  KING

  I all this while

  Suffer’d this comedy of Welsh disguises

  Still to go on, but now, my lord ambassador,

  Y’are welcome out of Wales.

  PENDA

  In English I thank your majesty. [PENDA and ELDRED discover.

  KING

  Nay, I must flea your skins off too, dear Edmond.

  EDMOND

  I ha’ lost my tongue on a sudden; ’tis shipp’d for Ireland. [Discovers.

  KING

  My princely brothers both, a pair of kingdoms

  Shall not buy you two from me.

  EDMOND

  I had no reason to lacy like an Irish footman thus.

  ELDRED

  Nor I as a Welse sentleman.

  EDMOND

  But knowing

  By this most honest, most noble soldier

  What false dice you put in to cozen Penda

  Of all his wealth — his wife — we, sir, turn’d cheaters

  To have some sport with you.

  KING

  If, worthy Penda,

  I have won from thee ought of this rich treasure,

  I’m a frank gamester.Take it all again.

  This is mine own stake, none shall draw thee from me,

  My best Armante, not this princely boy

  For a new world.

  ARMANTE

  I am happy in these trials.

  KING

  Are you pleas’d now, old grandsire?

  COLCHESTER

  And on our knees

  Crave pardon for our rashness.

  KING

  You did but justice.

  Be any to be blam’d it is these lords

  Who to set up their kinswoman a queen

  Car’d not to ruin utterly this temple

  So basely by me shaken.Winchester

  Has play’d at this great shooting a fair archer.

  [To VOLTIMAR.] Soldier, thou shalt not want what thou deservst.

  Enter Clown, like Vulcan.

  CLOWN

  And what I, have I been at cost to smut my face, hire a hammer, buy a polt foot and study a speech in your masque for Vulcan and now must I hobble without it?

  KING

  My wedding with Armante shall be hasten’d

  And till then, keep your speech, then bring your masque in.

  CLOWN

  Till then I will be speechless.

  PRINCE

  And so you’ll lay aside your chronicling,

  I’ll beg thee of the king to be my jester.

  CLOWN

  I’d as life you’d beg me for your fool.If you did, ‘twere no great hurt, for a king’s fool meets better fortune than many

  KING

  More than a golding ring marries your loves,

  A king’s spread arms lets rest after < >

  We have had a royal race, a goal < >

  ’Tis crwn’d if we t< >

  FINIS

  London’s Tempe (1629)

  OR, THE FEILD OF HAPPINES

  CONTENTS

  INTRODUCTION.


  THE FEILD OF HAPPINES.

  TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE JAMES CAMPEBELL, LORD MAIOR OF THE MOST RENOUNED CITTY OF LONDON.

  LONDONS TEMPE.

  THE FIRST.

  OCEANUS HIS SPEECH.

  THE SECOND PRESENTATION.

  THE THIRD.

  THE FOURTH.

  THE SONG.

  THE FIFT.

  TYTAN HIS SPEECH.

  THE SIXTH AND LAST PRESENTATION.

  APOLLOES SPEECH.

  A SPEECH AT NIGHT, AT TAKING LEAVE OF HIS LORDSHIP AT HIS GATE, BY OCEANUS.

  INTRODUCTION.

  WHETHER DEKKER CONTRIBUTED more than the two pageants which are here reprinted to the annual civic solemnities, cannot now be ascertained with strict certainty, as the list of these productions leaves many elisions which have never been filled, and for which no descriptive pamphlets have been found. Dekker is considered by Nichols “the most eminent of the series” of city poets, and “perhaps a grade above the employment now under contemplation;” but he was poor, and laboured through life with constant industry at play or pamphlet, and would no doubt have always been accessible to civic employment and hospitality.

  The pageant this year produced by him is much inferior to that for 1612, which may justly be considered as one of the very best of these productions. The name bestowed upon it, and the fifth pageant, as is remarked by Malcolm (Londinium Re-divivum, vol. 2), “is a quibble upon the name of the mayor, Campbell, reversed into the French words le bell or beau-champ, a beautiful field or country; to which were invited, and hither came, Titan, Flora, Ceres, Pomona, Ver, and Estas, from their blissful fields, to ride through the dirty streets, and a crowd who knew them not” From an examination of the books of the Ironmongers Company, he adds, “the sum paid for these pageants, including every expense, was £180. The sea-lion and estridge were preserved, and placed in the hall, (of the company), and thirty-two trumpeters were employed.”

  In Strype’s Stow we are told that Sir James Campbell was son of Sir Thomas Campbell, ironmonger, who was mayor in 1609, to whom Dekker alludes in the dedication to the pageant here reprinted, and who was himself “son to Robert Campbell, of Fulsam, in Norfolk.”

  A copy of this rare pageant, with two leaves in manuscript in the handwriting of Mr. Rhodes, was sold with the rest of his library, April 1825; this copy is now in the possession of Mr. J. P. Collier, who, in the most liberal manner, lent it to me, that I might include it among the series reprinted in this volume. A perfect copy is in the library of the Duke of Devonshire, with which it has been collated.

  It should be mentioned that two thirds of the original title-page is occupied by a large wood-cut of the ironmongers’ arms, which have so encroached upon the usual space, that no imprint appears in either of the copies above alluded to of this very rare pageant London’s Tempe, OR