Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker
Page 79
In the original quarto of 1600, Old Fortunatus is not divided into acts and scenes, and the division is here attempted for the first time. It has been necessary also in some instances to supply stage directions.
THE PROLOGUE AT COURT.
ENTER TWO OLD Men.
1st O. Man. Are you then travelling to the temple of Eliza?
2nd O. Man. Even to her temple are my feeble limbs travelling. Some call her Pandora: some Gloriana, some Cynthia: some Delphœbe, some Astræa: all by several names to express several loves: yet all those names make but one celestial body, as all those loves meet to create but one soul.
1st O. Man. I am one of her own country, and we adore her by the name of Eliza.
2nd O. Man. Blessed name, happy country: your Eliza makes your land Elysium: but what do you offer?
1st O. Man. That which all true subjects should: when I was young, an armed hand; now I am crooked, an upright heart: but what offer you?
2nd O. Man. That which all strangers do: two eyes struck blind with admiration: two lips proud to sound her glory: two hands held up full of prayers and praises: what not, that may express love? what not, that may make her beloved?
1st O. Man. How long is’t since you last beheld her?
2nd O. Man. A just year: yet that year hath seemed to me but one day, because her glory hath been my hourly contemplation, and yet that year hath seemed to me more than twice seven years, because so long I have been absent from her. Come therefore, good father, let’s go faster, lest we come too late: for see, the tapers of the night are already lighted, and stand brightly burning in their starry candle-sticks: see how gloriously the moon shines upon us. [Both kneel.
1st O. Man. Peace, fool: tremble, and kneel: the moon say’st thou?
Our eyes are dazzled by Eliza’s beams,
See (if at least thou dare see) where she sits:
This is the great Pantheon of our goddess,
And all those faces which thine eyes thought stars,
Are nymphs attending on her deity.
Prithee begin, for I want power to speak.
2nd O. Man. No, no, speak thou, I want words to begin. [Weeps.
1st O. Man. Alack, what shall I do? com’st thou with me,
And weep’st now thou behold’st this majesty?
2nd O. Man. Great landlady of hearts, pardon me.
1st O. Man. Blame not mine eyes, good father, in these tears.
2nd O. Man. My pure love shines, as thine doth in thy fears:
I weep for joy to see so many heads
Of prudent ladies, clothed in the livery
Of silver-handed age, for serving you,
Whilst in your eyes youth’s glory doth renew:
I weep for joy to see the sun look old,
To see the moon mad at her often change,
To see the stars only by night to shine,
Whilst you are still bright, still one, still divine:
I weep for joy to see the world decay,
Yet see Eliza flourishing like May:
O pardon me your pilgrim, I have measured
Many a mile to find you: and have brought
Old Fortunatus and his family,
With other Cypriots, my poor countrymen,
To pay a whole year’s tribute: O vouchsafe,
Dread Queen of Fairies, with your gracious eyes,
T’accept theirs and our humble sacrifice.
1st O. Man. Now I’ll beg for thee too: and yet I need not:
Her sacred hand hath evermore been known,
As soon held out to strangers as her own.
2nd O. Man. Thou dost encourage me: I’ll fetch them in,
They have no princely gifts, we are all poor,
Our offerings are true hearts, who can wish more? [Exeunt.
PROLOGUE
Of Love’s sweet war our timorous Muse doth sing,
And to the bosom of each gentle dear,
Offers her artless tunes, borne on the wing
Of sacred poesy. A benumbing fear,
That your nice souls, cloyed with delicious sounds,
Will loath her lowly notes, makes her pull in
Her fainting pinions, and her spirit confounds,
Before the weak voice of her song begin.
Yet since within the circle of each eye,
Being like so many suns in his round sphere,
No wrinkle yet is seen, she’ll dare to fly,
Borne up with hopes, that as you oft do rear
With your fair hands, those who would else sink down,
So some will deign to smile, where all might frown:
And for this small circumference must stand,
For the imagined surface of much land,
Of many kingdoms, and since many a mile
Should here be measured out, our Muse entreats
Your thoughts to help poor art, and to allow
That I may serve as Chorus to her senses;
She begs your pardon, for she’ll send one forth,
Not when the laws of poesy do call,
But as the story needs; your gracious eye
Gives life to Fortunatus’ history. [Exit.
Match Me in London (1631)
Dekker struggled financially for most of his working life and in 1612 he began a long and arduous seven-year prison sentence because of a £40 debt to playwright John Webster’s father. He was incarcerated in the King’s Bench Prison, which was notorious for being a debtors’ prison. He suffered greatly during his time there and was unable to write any plays, which gives credence to 1611 as the date of composition for Match Me in London. The play was performed that year by the Queen Anne’s Men at the Red Bull Theatre. In 1623, Henry Herbert, the Master of the Revels, referred to the play as ‘old’ when he re-licensed it, while he also wrote that it had been previously licensed by George Buck, who had been the Master of the Revels from c. 1610 until 1622. It was entered in to the Stationers’ Register on 8 November 1630 and printed in quarto the following year.
Dekker dedicated the play to ‘The Noble Lover, (and deservedly beloved) of the Muses, Lodowick Carlell, Esquire, Gentleman of the Bowes and the Groome of the King and Queene’s Privy-Chamber’. Carlell was a seventeenth century playwright, courtier and royal functionary, whose positions included being ‘Keeper’ of the Great Forest at Richmond Park. He maintained his role as ‘Keeper’ through the first two English Civil Wars and he remained loyal to the Royalist cause, continuing to serve the monarchy after the Restoration.
Match Me in London is a tragicomedy set in the Spanish Court, where the King of Spain begins the play by ordering his servant to procure him a mistress. He is introduced to Tormiella, who has recently eloped with the shoemaker Cordolente, much to her father’s chagrin. The King forces Tormiella to go to Court with him to be his mistress, embroiling her in a dangerous conflict with the Queen. Meanwhile, Prince John plots to steal his brother’s throne and the King conspires to execute his wife.
The title page from the 1631 quarto
CONTENTS
Dramatis Personæ
Dekker’s Address to Lodowick Carlisle
Act One, Scene One
Act One, Scene Two
Act One, Scene Three
Act One, Scene Four
Act Two, Scene One
Act Two, Scene Two
Act Two, Scene Three
Act Two, Scene Four
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 Four, Scene Four
Act Four, Scene Five
Act Four, Scene Six
Act Five, Scene One
Act Five, Scene Two
Act Five, Scene Three
Act Five, Scene Four
Act Five, Scene Five
Plan of London in the early seventeenth century, showing the locations of playhouses: the
Red Bull, where this play was first performed, lies to the north-west of the City.
Dekker was imprisoned in the King’s Bench Prison from 1612 to 1619
Dramatis Personæ
KING OF SPAIN.
DON JOHN, Prince of Spain and brother to the King.
DON VALASCO, Father to the Queen.
LUKE GAZETTO, Lover of Tormiella.
ANDRADA MALEVENTO, Father to Tormiella.
CORDOLENTE, Husband of Tormiella.
ALPHONSO DE GRANADA,
IAGO, Courtiers.
MARTINES DE BARAMEDA,
Doctor.
BILBO CAVEARE, servant to Malevento, and after journeyman to Cordolente.
PACHECO, page to Prince John.
LAZARILLO, apprentice to Cordolente.
QUEEN OF SPAIN.
TORMIELLA.
LADY DILDOMAN, a Bawd.
A Coxcomb, two Friars, Gallants, Officers, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Court.
Dekker’s Address to Lodowick Carlisle
TO THE NOBLE Lover,
(and deservedly beloved) of the Muses,
LODOWICK CARLELL
Esquire, Gentleman of the Bowes, and Groom
Of the King and Queen’s Privy-Chamber.
That I am thus bold to sing a dramatic note in your ear, is no wonder, in regard you are a chorister in the choir of the Muses. Nor is it any over-daring in my to put a play-book into your hands, being a courtier. Roman poets did so to their emperors; the Spanish, now, to their grandee’s, the Italians to their Illustrissimoes, and our own nation to the great ones.
I have been a priest in Apollo’s temple many years. My voice is decaying with my age, yet yours being clear and above mine, shall much honour me if you but listen to my old tunes. Are they set ill? Pardon them. Well? Then receive them.
Glad will you make me, if by your means, the King of Spain speaks out language in the court of England; yet have you wrought as great a wonder; for the nine sacred sisters, by you, are there become courtiers and talk with sweet tongue, instructed by your Delian eloquence. You ahve a king to your master, a queen to your mistress and the Muses your playfellows. I to them a servant. And yet, what duty soever I owe them, some part will I borrow to wait upon you, and to rest
Ever,
So devoted,
Tho. Dekker.
Act One, Scene One
Enter MALEVENTO.
MALEVENTO
Tormiella, daughter. Nor in this room. Peace [Clock strikes.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.
The dawn of midnight, and the drunkards’ noon.
No honest souls up now, but vintners, midwives,
The nodding watch, and piteous constable.
Ha! Bilbo!
My street door open! Bilbo, Puskeena, Bilbo!
Bawds, panders, to a young whore.
Enter BILBO.
BILBO
Thieves, thieves, thieves! Where are they, master?
MALEVENTO
Where are they, Bilbo? What thief seest thou?
BILBO
That ill-favour’d thief in your candle, sir. None else, not I.
MALEVENTO
Why didst thou cry “thieves” then?
BILBO
Because you cried “whores.” I knew a thief was always within a stone’s cast of a whore.
MALEVENTO
What makst thou up at midnight?
BILBO
I make them which are made every hour i’th’day; patches.
MALEVENTO
Slave, what art doing?
BILBO
That which few men can do; mending, sir.
MALEVENTO
What art mending?
BILBO
That which few men care to mend; a bad sole.
MALEVENTO
Look here. Come hither. Dost thou see what’s this?
BILBO
I see ’tis our wicket, master.
MALEVENTO
Stop there and tell me: is Tomeilla forth?
BILBO
I heard Puskeena our kitchen-maid say she was going about a murder.
MALEVENTO
A murder! Of whom?
BILBO
Of certain skippers. She was fleeing herself.
MALEVENTO
She dwells not in her chamber, for my ghost,
Call’d from his rest, from room to room has stalk’d,
Yet met no Tormeilla.
Was not her sweet heart here tonight, Gazetto?
BILBO
Gazetto! No, sir, here was no Gazetto here.
MALEVENTO
Walk round the orchard. Holla for her there.
BILBO
So ho, ho, ho, ho! [Exit.
MALEVENTO
She’s certain with Gazetto.
Should he turn villain, train my poor child forth,
Though she’s contracted to him, and rob her youth
Of that gem none can prize, because ne’er seen,
The virgin’s riches, chastity, and then,
When he has left her ugly to all eyes,
His own should loath her. Ud’s death! I would dray
An old man’s nerves up into this arm,
And nail him to the bed.
Enter BILBO.
BILBO
So, ho, ho, ho! The conies use to feed most i’th’night, sir,
Yet I cannot see my young mistress in our warren.
MALEVENTO
No!
BILBO
No, nor you neither, ’tis so dark.
MALEVENTO
Where should this foolish girl be? ’Tis past twelve.
Who has invited her forth to her quick ruin?
BILBO
My memory jogs me by the elbow, and tells me —
MALEVENTO
What, Bilbo? Out with all!
BILBO
A barber stood with her on Saturday night very late, when he had shav’d all this customers, and as I think, came to trim her.
MALEVENTO
A barber! To trim her! Sawst thou the muskcod?
BILBO
A checker’d apron gentleman, I assure you. He smelt horrible strong of camphire, bay leaves and rose water, and he stood fiddling with Tormiella.
MALEVENTO
Ha?
BILBO
Fiddling at least half an hour on a cittern with a man’s broken head at it, so that I think ’twas a barber-surgeon, and there’s one Cinamomo, a shopkeeper, come hither a batfowling every moonshine night too.
MALEVENTO
What’s he? Cinamomo!
BILBO
I take him to be a comfitmaker with rotten teeth, for he never comes till the barber’s gone.
MALEVENTO
A comfitmaker!
BILBO
Yes, sir, for he gave Tormiella a candied root once, and she swore ’twas the sweestest thing —
MALEVENTO
Dwells he here i’th’city?
BILBO
He has a house i’th’city, but I know not where he lives.
MALEVENTO
She’ll follow her kind, turn monster. Get a light.
BILBO
My sconce is ready, sir.
MALEVENTO
Call at Gazetto’s lodging; ask how he dares
Make a harlot of my child. Slave, say no more.
Begone; beat boldly.
BILBO
I’ll beat down the door and put him in mind of a Shrove Tuesday; the fatal day for doors to be broken open. [Exit.
MALEVENTO
For this night I’m her porter. Oh, hapless creatures!
There is in woman a devil from her birth;
Of bad ones we have shoals, of good a dearth. [Exit.
Act One, Scene Two
ENTER CORDOLENTE AND TORMIELLA.
CORDOLENTE
No more, my Tormiella. Night hath borne
Thy vows to heaven where they are fill’d by this,
Or, if thou spot it with foul perjury,
For ever to condemn thee.
TORMIELLA
Come, it shall not.
Here am I sphere’d forever. Thy fears, dear love,
Strike coldly on thy jeaous breast, I know
From that my father’s promise to Gazetto
That he should have me. Contract is there none,
For my heart loath’d it. Is there left an oath
Fit for a maid to swear by?
CORDOLENTE
Good, sweet, give o’er.
What need we bidning oaths being fast before
I dare the crabbedst Fate she cannot spin
A thread thus fine and rotten. How now, sad?
TORMIELLA
Pray heaven I be not miss’d at home, dear Cordolente.
Thou shalt to farther. I’ll venture now myself.
CORDOLENTE
How, sweet? Venture alone?
TORMIELLA
Yes, yes, good rest.
CORDOLENTE
By that are lovers parted, seldom bless’d.
Enter BILBO.
BILBO
Who goes there? If you be a woman, stand, for all the men I met tonight lie in the kennel.
TORMIELLA
My father’s man! I am betray’d.
CORDOLENTE
Fear nothing.
TORMIELLA
Bilbo!
Wither art thou running?
BILBO
Out of my wits and yet no churl’s executor. ’Tis not money makes me mad, but want of money.
TORMIELLA
Good, tell me whether art going?
BILBO
I am going to hell, that’s to say, home, for my master plays the devil, and I come from seeking out a house of everlasting thunder, that’s to say, a woman. I have been bouncing at Signior Gazetto’s chamber for you.
TORMIELLA
Ha!
BILBO
You’ll he ha’d when you come home.
TORMIELLA
I am undone forever!
CORDOLENTE