Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker

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Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker Page 96

by Thomas Dekker


  TUCCA

  Mary muff, my man a ginger-bread, wilt eat any small coal?

  ASINIUS

  No, Captain, would you should well know it, great coal shall not fill my belly.

  TUCCA

  Scorn it; dost scorn to be arrested at one of his old suits?

  ASINIUS

  No, Captain, I’ll wear any thing.

  TUCCA

  I know thou wilt; I know th’art an honest low minded Pigmy, for I ha’ seen thy shoulders lapp’d in a player’s old cast cloak like a sly knave as thou art, and when thou ranst mad for the death of Horatio, thou borrowed a gown of Roscius the stager, that honest Nicodemus, and sentst it home lousy, didn’t not?Respond, didst not?

  BLUNT

  So, so, no more of this.Within the hour —

  HORACE

  If I can sound retreat to my wits, with whom this leader is in skirmish. I’ll end within this hour.

  TUCCA

  What would end?What, hand thyself now?Has he not writ “Finis” yet, Jack?What will he be fifteen weeks about this cockatrice’s egg too?Has he not cackl’d yet?Not laid yet?

  BLUNT

  Not yet, he swears he will within the hour.

  TUCCA

  His wits are somewhat hard bound; the punk, his muse, has sore labour ere the whore be deliver’d; the poor saffron-cheek sun-burnt gypsy wants physic; give the hungry-face pudding-pie-eater ten pills; ten shillings my fair Angelica; they’ll make his muse as yare as a tumbler.

  BLUNT

  He shall not want for money if he’ll write.

  TUCCA

  Go, by Jeronimo, go by; and here, drop the ten shillings into this bason; do, drop, when Jack?He shall call me his Macaenas; besides, I’ll dam up’s oven-mouth for rallying at’s.So, is’t right, Jack?Is’t sterling?Fall off not to the vaward of yonder four stinkers, and ask aloud if we shall go.The knight shall defray Jack, the knight when it comes to summa totalis, the knight, the knight.

  BLUNT

  Well, gentlemen, we’ll leave you.Shall we go, Captain?Good Horace makes some haste.

  HORACE

  I’ll put on wings.

  ASINIUS

  I never saw mind Ingle so dash’d in my life before.

  CRISPINUS

  Yes, once, Asinius.

  ASINIUS

  Mass, you say true; he was dash’d worse once going, in a rainy day, with a speech to’th’tilt-yard, by God’s lid, has call’d him names, a dog would not put up with that had any discretion.

  TUCCA

  Hold, hold up thy hand; I ha’ seen the day thou didst not scorn to hold up thy golls; there’s a soldier’s spur-royal twelve pence.Stay, because I know thou canst not write without quicksilver; up again, this goll again; I give thee double press-money.Stay, because I know thou hast a noble head; I’ll divide my crown, O royal Porrex; there’s a teston more.Go, thou and thy muse munch, do, munch.Come, my dear mandrake, if skeldring fall not to decay, thou shalt flourish.Farewell, my sweet Amadis de Gaul, farewell.

  HORACE

  Dear Captain —

  TUCCA

  Come, Jack.

  DEMETRIUS

  Nay, Captain, stay.We are of your band.

  TUCCA

  Much fair, then.

  CRISPINUS

  Horace, farewell, adieu, Aspinus. [Exeunt.

  ASINIUS

  Ningle, let’s go to some tavern and dine together, for my stomach rises at this scurvy leather captain.

  HORACE

  No, they have chok’d me with mine own disgrace,

  Which, fools, I’ll spit again even in your face.[Exeunt.

  Act Two, Scene One

  ENTER SIR QUINTILIAN SHORTHOSE, SIR ADAM, SIR VAUGHAN, MINIVER, with Servingmen.

  SIR QUINTILIAN

  Knaves, varlets, what lungis!Give me a dozen of stools there.

  SIR VAUGHAN

  Sesu, pless us all in our five senses a piece, what mean you, Sir Kintilian Sorthouse to stand so much on a dozen stools; here be not preaches enough to hide a dozen stools, unless you wiss some of us preak his sins.

  SIR QUINTILIAN

  I say, Sir Vaughan, no shin shall be broken here.What lungis, a chair with a strong back, and a soft belly, great with child, with a cushion for this reverent lady.

  MINIVER

  God never gave me the grace to be a lady, yet I ha’ been worshipp’d in my conscience to my face a thousand times; I cannot deny Sir Vaughan, but that I have all implements belonging to the vocation of a lady.

  SIR VAUGHAN

  I trust, Miniver, you have all a honest ‘oman should have?

  MINIVER

  Yes, perdie, as my coach, and my fan, and a man or two that serve my turn, and other things with I’d be loath every one should see, because they shall not be common, I am in manner of a lady in one point.

  SIR VAUGHAN

  I pray, Mistress Minivers, let us all see that point for our better understanding.

  MINIVER

  For I ha’ some things that were fetch’d, I am sure, as far as some of the Low Countries, and I payd sweetly for them too, and they told me they were good for ladies.

  SIR QUINTILIAN

  And much good do’t thy good heart, fair widow, with them.

  MINIVER

  I am fair enough to be a widow, Sir Quintilian.

  SIR VAUGHAN

  In my soul and conscience, and well-favoured enough to be a lady, here is Sir Kintilian Shorthouse, and here is Sir Adam Prickshaft, a sentleman of a very good brain, and well-headed; you see he shoots his bold sildom, but when Adam let’s go, he hits, and here is Sir Vaughan ap Rees, and I believe if God should take us all from his mercy, as I hope he will not yet, we all three love you, at the bottom of our bellies and our hearts; and therefore, Mistress Miniver, if you please, you shall be knighted by one of us, whom you sall desire to put into your device and mind.

  MINIVER

  One I must have, Sir Vaughan.

  SIR QUINTILIAN

  And one of us thou shalt have, widow.

  MINIVER

  One I must have, for now everyone seeks to crow over me.

  SIR VAUGHAN

  By Sesu and if I find any crowing over you, and he were a cock, come out as far as in Turkey’s country, ’tis possible to cut his comb off.

  MINIVER

  I muse why Sir Adam Prickshaft flies so far from us.

  SIR ADAM

  I am in a brown study, my dear; if love should be turned into a beast, what beast he were fit to be turned into?

  SIR QUINTILIAN

  I think, Sir Adam, an ass, because of his bearing.

  MINIVER

  I think, saving your reverence, Sir Adam a puppy, for a dog is the most loving creature to a Christian that is, unless it be a child.

  SIR ADAM

  No, I think if love should be turn’d away, and go to serve any beast, it must be an ape, and my reason —

  SIR VAUGHAN

  Sir Adam, an ape?There’s no more reason in an ape than in a very plain monkey; for an ape has no tail, but we all know, or ’tis our duty to know, love has two tails.In my sudgement, if love be a beast, that beast is a bunce of reddis, for a bunce of reddis is wise meat without mutton, and so is love.

  MINIVER

  There’s the yawning captain, saving your reverence that has such a sore mouth, would one day needs persuade me that love was a rebato; and his reason was, saving your reverence, that a rebato was worn out with pinning too often, and so he said love was.

  SIR VAUGHAN

  And Master Captain Tucca said wisely too; love is a rebato indeed; a rebato must be poked.Now many women wear rebatos, and many that wear rebates —

  SIR ADAM

  Must be pok’d.

  SIR VAUGHAN

  Sir Adam Prickshaft has hit the clout.[Music.

  SIR QUINTILIAN

  The music speaks to us.We’ll have a dance before dinner.

  Enter SIR WALTER TERILL, CÆLESTINE, BLUNT, CRISPINUS, and DEMETRIUS, every one
with a Lady.

  ALL

  The King’s at hand.

  TERILL

  Father, the King’s at hand.

  Music talk louder, that thy silver voice

  May reach my sovereign’s ears.

  SIR VAUGHAN

  I pray, do so.Musicians bestir your fingers that you may have us all by the ears.

  SIR QUINTILIAN

  His grace comes.A hall, varlets!Where be my men?Blow, blow your cold trumpets till they sweat; tickle them till they sound again.

  BLUNT

  Best go meet his grace.

  ALL

  Agreed.

  SIR VAUGHAN

  Pray, all stand bare, as well men as women.Sir Adam, is best you hide your head for feat your wise brains take key-cold.On afore, Sir Kintilian.Sentlemen, fall in before the ladies in seemly order and fashion.So, this is comely.

  Enter Trumpets sounding; they go to the door and meet the KING and his Train, and whilst the Trumpets sound, the KING is welcom’d, kisses the Bride, and honours the Bridegroom in dumb show.

  KING

  Nay, if your pleasures shrink at sight of us,

  We shall repent this labour, Mistress Bride.

  You that for speaking one word today

  Must lose your head at night; you that do stand

  Taking your last leave of virginity;

  You that being well begun must not be made:

  Win you the ladies, I the men will woo;

  Our self will lead, my blushing bride, with you.

  SIR VAUGHAN

  God bless your majesty and send you to be a long King William Rufus over us, when he sees his times and pleasures.

  KING

  We thank you, good Sir Vaughan.We will take your meaning not your words.

  SIR QUINTILIAN

  Loud music there!

  SIR VAUGHAN

  I am glad your majesty will take any thing at my hands.My words, I trust in Sesu, are spoken between my soul and body together, and have neither felonies nor treasons about them, I hope.

  KING

  Good words, Sir Vaughan.I prithee give us leave.

  SIR VAUGHAN

  Good, words, Sir Vaughan?That’s by interpretation in English.You’r best give good words to Sir Vaughan.God and his ansels bless me, what ails his majesty to be so tedious and difficult in his right minds now?I hold my life that file rascal-rhymer Horace hath puzz’d and puzz’d abouve a hundred merry tales and lice into his great and princely eyes; by God and he use it, his being Phœbus priest cannot save him, if he were his saplain too I’d prease upon his coxcomb.Good lord, bless me out of his majesty’s celler.King Williams, I hope ’tis none offences to make a supplication to God a’mighty for your long life, for, by Shesu, I have no meaning in’t in all the world, unless rascals be here that will have your grace take shalk for sheese, and unless Horace has sent lice to your majesty.

  KING

  Horace?What’s he, Sir Vaughan?

  SIR VAUGHAN

  As hard-favour’d a fellow as your majesty has seen in a summer’s day:he does pen, an’t please your grace, toys that will not please your grace.’Tis a poet; we call them bards in your country; sings ballads and rhymes, and I was mighty sealous that his ink, which is black and full of gall, had brought my name to your majesty and so lifted up your high and princely choler.

  KING

  I neither know that Horace, nor mine anger,

  If, as thou sayst, our high and princely choler

  Be up, we’ll tread is down with dances.Ladies,

  Loose not your men.Fair measures must be tread,

  When by so fair a dancer your are led.

  SIR VAUGHAN

  Mistress Miniver?

  MINIVER

  Perdy, Sir Vaughan, I cannot dance.

  SIR VAUGHAN

  Perdy, by this Miniver cap and according to his masesty’s leave too, you sall be put in among these ladies, and dance ere long I trest in God, the saking of the seats.

  [They dance a strain, and whiles the others keep on, the KING and CÆLESTINE stay.

  KING

  That tune, fair bride, shows you must turn at night,

  In that sweet dance which steals away delight.

  CÆLESTINE

  Then pleasure is a thief, a fit, a fever.

  KING

  True, he’s the thief, but women the receiver.

  [Another change; theyfall in, the rest go on.

  This change, sweet maid, says you must change your life,

  As virgins do.

  CÆLESTINE

  Virgins ne’er change their life,

  She that is wiv’d a maid, is maid and wife.

  KING

  But she that dies a maid —

  CÆLESTINE

  Thrice happy then.

  KING

  Leads apes in hell.

  CÆLESTINE

  Better lead apes then men.

  [As this third change they end, and she meets the KING.

  KING

  Well met.

  CÆLESTINE

  ’Tis overtaken.

  KING

  Why, fair sweet?

  CÆLESTINE

  Women are overtaken when they meet.

  KING

  Your blood speaks like a coward.

  CÆLESTINE

  It were good.

  If every maiden blush had such a blood.

  KING

  A coward blood, why whom should women fear?

  CÆLESTINE

  Men, were maids cowards, they’d not come so near.

  My lord, the measure’s done; I plead my duty.

  KING

  Only my heart takes measure of thy beauty.

  SIR QUINTILIAN

  Now by my hose I swear, that’s no deep oath;

  This was a fine sweet earthquake gently mov’d,

  By the soft wind of whis’pring silks.Come, ladies

  Whose joints are mad eout of the dancing orbs,

  Come, follow me, walk a cold measure now.

  In the bride’s chamber your hot beauty’s melt,

  Take every one her fan, give them their places,

  And wave the northern wind upon your faces.

  [CÆLESTINE and all the Ladies doing obeisance to the KING, who only kisses her.Exeunt. SHORTHOSE manning them; the Gallants stand aloof.

  KING

  Sir Walter Terill.

  TERILL

  My confirmed liege.

  KING

  Beauty out of her bounty thee hath lent,

  More than her own with liberal extent.

  TERILL

  What means my lord?

  KING

  Thy bride, thy choice, thy wife;

  She is not thy fandom, thy new world,

  That brings thee people, and makes little subjects

  Kneel at thy feet, obey in everything,

  So every father is a private king.

  TERILL

  My lord, her beauty is the poorest part;

  Chiefly her virtues did endow my heart.

  KING

  Do not back-bite her beauties; they all shine

  Brighter on thee, because the beams are thine,

  To thee more fair; to others her two lips

  Show like a parted moon in thine eclipse.

  That glance which lovers ‘mongst themselves devise,

  Walks as invisible to others’ eyes.

  Give me thine ear.

  CRISPINUS

  What means the king?

  DEMETRIUS

  ’Tis a quant strain.

  TERILL

  My lord.

  KING

  Thou dar’st not, Wat?

  TERILL

  She is too coarse an object for the court.

  KING

  Thou dar’st not, Wat; let tonight be tomorrow.

  TERILL

  For she’s not yet mine own.

  KING

  Thou dar’st not, Wat?

  TERILL

  My lo
rd, I dare, but —

  KING

  But I see thou dar’st not.

  TERILL

  This night.

  KING

  Yes, this night; tush, thy mind repairs not;

  The more thou talk’st of night, the more thou dar’st not.

  Thus far I tend:I would but turn this sphere

  Of ladies’ eyes and place it in the court

  Where thy fair bride should for the zodiac shine,

  And every lady else sit for a sign.

  But all thy thoughts are tallow, they sweet blood

  Rebels; th’art jealous, Wat; thus with prov’d revels

  To emulate the masking firmament

  Where stars dance in the silver hall of heaven,

  Thy pleasure should be seasoned, and thy bed

  Relish thy bride.But, but thou dar’st not, Wat?

  TERILL

  My lord, I dare.

  KING

  Speak that again.

  TERILL

  I dare.

  KING

  Again, kind Wat, and then I know thou dar’st.

  TERILL

  I dare, and will by that joint holy oath,

  Which she and I swore to the book of heaven,

  This very day when the surveying sun

  Rise, like a witness to her faith and mine,

  By all the loyalty that subjects owe

  To majesty, by that, by this, by both,

  I swear to make a double guarded oath,

  This night untainted by the touch of man;

  She shall a virgin come.

  KING

  To court?

  TERILL

  To court.

  I know I took a woman to my wife,

  And I know women to be earthly moons

  That never shine till night; I know they change

  Their orbs, their husbands, and in sickish hearts,

  Steal to their sweet Endymions to be cur’d

  With better physic, sweeter diet drinks

  Then home can minister.All this I know

  Yet know not all, but give me leave, O king,

  To boast of mine, and say that I know none;

  I have a woman but not such a one.

  KING

  Why, she’s confirmed in thee; I now approve her;

  If constant in thy thoughts who then can move her?

  Enter SIR QUINTILIAN.

  SIR QUINTILIAN

  Wilt please your highness take your place within?

  The ladies attend the table.

  KING

  I go, good knight.Wat, thy oath.

  TERILL

  My lord,

  My oath’s my honour, my honour is my life,

  My oath is constant, so I hope, my wife.[Exeunt.

  Act Two, Scene Two

 

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