Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker

by Thomas Dekker

  Unwholesome fogs, and blasts; to bed, my lord,

  Lest they attach your beauty: nothing more,

  I’ll pay you for your song. — [Exit.

  Tre. Are you gone so?

  Well, you hard-hearted one, you shall not ever

  Be lady of yourself; away.[Exit.

  Enter CARGO running.

  Car. Oh, my lord! I have stood centinel as you. bad me, but I am frighted.

  Nic. With what?

  Car. The night-mare rides you; my lady is conjured up.

  Nic. Now the devil lay her down! prevented in the very act?

  Car. She works by magic, and knows all.

  Enter DARIENE.

  Dar. Do you shrink back, my lord? you may with shame;

  Have I ta’en you napping, my lord?

  Nic. But not with the manner, my lady.

  Dar. Have you no bird to fly at, but what sits on your own son’s fist?

  Nic. How! my son’s fist?

  Dar. Yes, the lady whom you wrought to have been your harlot,

  Your son has long since won to be his bride;

  Both they and I have this night exercis’d

  Our wits to mock your dotage.

  Nic. Am I then gull’d?

  Car. Yes, my lord, and bull’d too; yonder’s

  Tibaldo Neri come this morning.

  Dar. So early, is his sister with him?

  Car. Not that I saw, but I saw him kiss my young mistress three or four times; I think ‘twere good to ask the banns of matrimony.

  Nic. Wou’d it were no worse; let’s in, and give ’em the morning’s salutation. —

  Dar. I’ll tell him all.

  Nic. Sweet lady, seal my pardon with a kiss,

  He ne’er was born, that never did amiss.

  [Exeunt.

  ACT V. SCENE I.

  ENTER FLORENCE, PIERO, PISA, MUTIO, TORNELLI, and PHILIPPO.

  Pier. Sir, I have found Angelo with long and busy search.

  Flor. And will he come?

  Pier. Your honour (as you charg’d me) I impawn’d

  For his safe passage.

  Flor. By my life he shall; when will he come?

  Pier. My friend brings him along.

  Flor. Philippo Mutio, go and persuade our daughter

  To walk, and take die air.

  Pisa. I’ll play that orator. — [Exit.

  Flor. Attend the Duke of Pisa; prithee, Piero,

  Discover where this Angelo lay lurking.

  Pier. The world he has shut up, and now the book

  He reads, is only here ; see where he comes.

  Enter ANGELO in a Friar’s dress accompanied by another Friar: FIAMETTA enters at the same Time from the other Side.

  Flor. Way for my daughter! look you, there’s Angelo.

  Fia. Ha! yes, ’tis the star I sail by; hold me not;

  Why do you stick like rocks, to bar my way,

  And utterly to wreck me?

  Flor. Art thou mad?

  Fia. Yes, I am mad; oh, my best life, my soul!

  [Runs to him.

  Ang. Whom seek you, lady?

  Fia. Do you not know me, sir?

  Ang. Yes. —

  Fia. Dost thou not love me?

  Ang. Yes.

  Fia. At very heart?

  Ang. Yes, at the very soul.

  Fia. Burns not your love,

  With that most holy fire, the god of marriage

  Kindles in man and woman?

  Ang. No.

  Fia. Ha, no?

  Flor. He says no.

  Fia. Then so, quod dedi perdidi.

  Ang. How can I love you, lady?

  I have climb’d too many of such fruitless trees.

  Fia. Have you indeed?

  Ang. Yes, and have pull’d the apples.

  Fia. Now I beshrew your fingers.

  Ang. And when I touch’d ’em, found ’em turn’d to dust.

  Why should you love me? I have chang’d my pleasure

  In beauteous dames, more than I have my dreams,

  Four in one night.

  Flor. He’ll prove a lusty Lawrence;

  This is the star you sail by though.

  Ang. Why should you love me? I am but a tomb,

  Gay outside, but within rotten and foul.

  Fia. I’ll swear thou’rt most diseas’d, even in thy soul;

  Oh thou, thou most perfidious man alive!

  So prosper, as my poor sick heart doth thrive;

  Give me thy hand, I hate thee, fare thee well.

  (To Pisa.) Come, I make thee my heaven, were’t once my hell.

  Pisa. I’m rapt above the spheres, joy strikes me dumb.

  Flor. Thou’st lent unto mine age a score of years,

  More than e’er nature promis’d, by thy loving

  This noble prince; thou’rt his then?

  Fia. His — to prove it; (To Ang.) hence

  Thou from me! ne’er more behold mine eyes!

  Ang. Now find I that a lover’s heart last dies. — [Exit.

  Flor. Ay, ay; so, so; if it die, it shall be buried.

  Fia. Good reverend sir, stay you, and as you witness

  This my divorce, so shall you seal my contract.

  Friar. I will, your pleasure

  Flor. Fiametta,

  Make choice thyself of thine own wedding-day.

  Fia. To-morrow be it; love’s poison is delay.

  Flor. Gallants, pray stir betimes, and rouse your mistresses;

  Let some invite Lord Vanni and his lady;

  We dine to-day with Lord Jacomo,

  Thither let’s hasten.

  Fia. Sir, this holy man

  Shall be this night my confessor; about midnight

  Expect my sending for you. —

  Friar. Your devotion commands my service.

  Flor. We’re least i’ th’ friar’s stead.

  The prince be your confessor; girl, prepare

  To play the bride to-morrow, and then being laid,

  One night past o’er, think ne’er to rise a maid.

  [Exeunt.

  Scene changes to GENTILI’S. Trumpets — Services carried covered over the Stage; a Number of Poor are attending, and TORRENTI one of them; then enter JACOMO bare, between the two Dukes, PIERO, PHILIPPO, TORNELLL, and MUTIO.

  Flor. No more of compliment, my Lord Gentili;

  Such noble welcomes have we had this day,

  We must take blushing leaves, ‘cause we can pay

  Nothing but thanks.

  Gen. That’s more than the whole debt comes to.

  Flor f Ne’er saw I tables crown’d with braver store; —

  I know no man that spends, nay, nor gives more,

  And yet a full sea still: why yonder fellow,

  The brave mock-prodigal, has spent all indeed,

  He that made beggars proud, begs now himself for need.

  Gen. But who relieves him now? none; for I know

  He that in riotous feasting wastes his store,

  Is like a fair tree which in summer bore

  Boughs laden till they crack’d, with leaves and fruit,

  Whose plenty lasting, all men come unto ‘t,

  And pluck, and fill their laps and carry away;

  But when the boughs grow bare, and leaves decay,

  And the great tree stand sapless, wither’d, dry,

  Then each one casts on it a scornful eye,

  And grieves to see it stand; nay, does not grieve,

  Albeit the axe down to the root it cleave;

  The fall of such a tree will I beware,

  I know both when to spend, and when to spare.

  Flor. Tis nobly spoke.

  Pisa. Nay, good my lord, make haste!

  Pier. Here’s a child lost i’ th’ staying.

  Flor. Get two at night for’t.

  What is the bride yet dress’d?

  Pier. She’s rigging, sir.

  Flor. ’Tis well; music? from whence?

  What chamber’s that?


  Mut. It joins close to the

  Lodgings of the bride.

  Flor. Inquire

  If she be ready, Mutio; say her bridegroom

  Attends on her below.

  Mut. I shall, my lord. [Fiametta above.

  Pier. Tarry, she looks herself out.

  Flor. Come, come, loiterer!

  Fia. Fair welcome to your grace, and to that prince,

  That should have been my bridegroom.

  Flor. Should ha’ been?

  Pier. Is the moon chang’d already?

  Fia. In her changes

  The moon is constant, man is only varying,

  And never in one circle long is tarrying;

  But one man in the moon at once appears,

  Such praise (being true to one) a woman bears.

  Flor. Take thou that praise, and to this prince be true;

  Come down and marry him

  Fia. What would the world say,

  If I should marry two men in one day?

  Flor. That villain has bewitch’d her.

  Pier. Sir, what villain?

  Flor. That slave, the banish’d runnagate.

  Pier. Cast not on him

  Such foul aspersions, till you know his guilt;

  Even now you said he was a worthy spirit,

  Crown’d him with praise, and do you now condemn

  An absent man unheard?

  Flor. I’ll hang the traitor.

  Pisa. Lock all the gates of Florence, lest he ‘scape.

  Flor. Our pardon, whosoever takes and kill him.

  Pier. Oh! who would trust in princes? the vain breath,

  Which in a minute gives one man life and death?

  Fia. Come forth, thou threaten’d man! here kill him all,

  Lower than what you stand on, none can fall.

  [Angelo above.

  Ang. I now must stand your arrows, but you shoot

  Against a breast as innocent —

  Flor. As a traitor’s.

  Ang. Your patience, sir.

  Pisa. Talk’st thou of patience? that by thy most perfidious —

  Enter FRIAR above.

  Ang. Hear me, pray!

  Or if not me, hear then this reverend man.

  Pisa. What makes that friar there?

  Pier. Father, speak your mind.

  Friar. I was enjoined to be her confessor,

  And came; but then she won me to a vow,

  By oath of all my orders, face to face,

  To hear her speak unto Angelo; ’twas done;

  He came; when falling down on both her knees,

  Her eyes drown’d all in tears, she opes a book,

  Charging him read his oaths and promises,

  The contract of their hands, hearts, yea, and souls,

  And ask’d if Angelo would marry her.

  Flor. Very good.

  Friar. He, looking pale as death, said faintly no.

  Pisa. Faintly? he then was willing?

  Pier. Pray hear him out.

  Friar. Thrice tried he thrice cried no; at which this lady

  Desperately snatching from her side two knives,

  Had stabb’d herself to the heart, but that we knit

  Our force against it; what should I do in this?

  Or marry her, or rob her of heaven’s bliss?

  Which glory had been greater to have ta’en

  A husband from her, or to have seen her slain?

  Flor. Then you have married her?

  Friar. I have.

  Pier. Brave girl!

  Pisa. I’ll cut that knot asunder with my sword.

  Friar. The hands which heaven hath join’d, no man can part.

  Fia. The hands they may, but never shall the heart.

  Flor. Why didst thou make to him thy promise then? —

  Fia. Women are born but to make fools of men.

  She that’s made sure to him, she loves not well,

  Her banns are ask’d here, but she weds in hell;

  Parents that match their children ‘gainst their will,

  Teach them not how to live, but how to kill.

  Flor. Parrot! parrot!

  Ill stop your prating; break into her chamber,

  And lay the villain bleeding at her feet.

  [Florence, Pisa, and the attendants draw their swords.

  Fia. Villain? it is my husband.

  Flor. Enter and kill him!

  Pier. Enter, but kill him he that dares; I blush

  To see two princes so degenerate.

  Fia. Oh, noble brother!

  Pier. What would you have him do?

  He well deserves to have her to his wife;

  Who gives to you a daughter, her a life;

  In sight of angels she to him was given,

  So that in striking him, you fight with heaven.

  Flor. You see there is no remedy.

  Pisa. Troth none;

  I threw at all, and (gamester’s luck) all’s gone;

  Farewell, brave spirited girl, he that ‘gainst wind,

  Fire and the sea, law and a woman’s mind,

  Strives, is a fool; that’s I; I’ll now be wise,

  And never more put trust in woman’s eyes.

  Fia. I love thee for that-word with all my heart.

  Flor. Will you come down pray?

  Fia. Swear as you are a duke —

  Flor. Yet more a-do?

  Pisa. Will you not trust your father?

  Fia. Why should I? you see there is no trust i’ th’ daughter;

  Swear by your hopes of good you will not touch

  His nail to hurt him.

  Flor. By my hopes I swear.

  Fia. And you too? —

  Pisa. Yes, what’s falling none can rear.

  Fia. We come then; noble friend, flag not thy wings,

  In this war I defy a camp of kings.

  [Exeunt from above.

  Enter NICOLETTO, TIBALDO, ALPHONSINA, DARIENE, ALESSANDRA, TREBATIO.

  Flor. See, see, more shoals of friends! most beauteous ladies,

  Fair welcomes to you all!

  Nic. My lord, those tides

  Are turn’d, these ladies are transform’d to brides.

  Flor. We heard the happy news; and therefore sent

  To marry joys with joys, yours with our own,

  Yours (I see) prosper, ours are overthrown.

  Nic. How mean you overthrown?

  Enter ANGELO and FIAMETTA.

  Flor. Your own eyes shall be witness how:

  nay, nay, pray rise!

  I know your heart is up though your knee’s down.

  Ang. All we stand in fear of is your frown.

  Fia. And all, dear father, which I beg of you,

  Is that you love this man but as I do.

  Flor. What beg you of this prince?

  Fia. That he would take

  One favour from me, which myself shall make.

  Pisa. Pray let it be of willow.

  Fia. Well then it shall.

  Alph. Why willow? is the noble prince forsaken?

  Pier. All womens’ faults, one for another taken.

  Alph. Now in good sooth, my lord, she has but us’d you

  As watermen use their fares, for she look’d one way

  And row’d another; you but wore her glove,

  The hand was Angelo’s, and she dealt wisely.

  Let woman ne’er love man, or if she do,

  Let him ne’er know it; make him write, wait, woo,

  Court, cog, and curse, and swear, and lie, and pine,

  Till love bring him to death’s door, else he’s not mine;

  That flesh eats sweetest that’s pick’d close to th’ bone,

  Water drinks best, that’s hew’d even from the stone;

  Men must be put to ‘t home.

  Nic. He that loves ducking, let him come learn of thee.

  Flor. She has good skill; —

  At table will we hear a full discourse

  Of all t
hese changes, and these marriages;

  Both how they shuffled, cut, and dealt about,

  What cards were best, after the trumps were out;

  Who play’d false play, who true, who sought to save

  An ace i’ th’ bottom, and turn’d up a knave;

  For love is but a card-play, and all’s lost,

  Unless you cog; he that packs best, wins most.

  Alph. Since such good gamesters are together met,

  As you like this, we’ll play another set.

  [Exeunt.

  FINIS.

  The Collaborative Plays

  Elizabethan London

  Satiro-Mastix (1601)

  In collaboration with John Marston

  Satiro-Mastix was first entered into the Stationers’ Register on 11 November 1601. The following year it was printed in quarto by Edward Allde and published by the bookseller, Edward White. The play is often attributed to Dekker and his friend John Marston. However, this has been contested as some critics and scholars argue that while there are many examples of Dekker’s style littered throughout, there are no instances of Marston’s in any section of the work. Satiro-Mastix forms part of the so-called ‘War of the Theatres’, which was a series of satirical plays written by Ben Jonson and his rivals Dekker and Marston. After the Bishop’s Ban of 1599 forbade the publication of prose satires, Marston turned to play writing and in the autumn of 1599 he began the ‘War of the Theatres’ by mocking Ben Jonson through the character of Chrisoganus in Histriomastix. Jonson retaliated by attacking Marston in Everyman Out of His Humour, while in Poetaster, he not only lampooned Marston again, but also denigrated Dekker as a second-rate playwright.

  Satiro-Mastix is Dekker’s response of sorts to Jonson and his sole literary contribution to the dispute. The reasons behind the ‘War of the Theatres’ is not known with certainty; it is possible that it was the result of professional rivalry or personal animosity or even an entirely manufactured feud for artistic purposes. Whatever the causes, it was fairly short lived and was entirely resolved by 1605 when Jonson and Marston collaborated on Eastward Ho!.

  Satiro-Mastix is ostensibly centred on the marriage between Sir Walter Terrill and Caelestine during the reign of William II (William Rufus). However, the chief interest of the play is Horace and his behaviour towards his fellow poets, Crispinus and Demetrius. In Poetaster, Jonson had lionised himself in the figure of Horace while satirising Marston and Dekker through the characters of Crispinus and Demetrius. In Satiro-Mastix, Dekker incorporates these characters into the play, but portrays the latter two as honourable and decent, while presenting Horace as deceitful, vain and tedious.

  The title page to the 1602 quarto