Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker
Page 102
CRISPINUS
Horace.
SIR VAUGHAN
Silence, pray let all ‘ords be strangles, or held fast between your teeth.
CRISPINUS
Under control of my dread sovereign,
We are thy judges; thou that didst arraign,
Art now prepar’d for condemnation.
Should I but bid thy muse stand to the bar,
Thyself against her wouldst give evidence.
For flat rebellion ‘gainst the sacred laws
Of divine poesy; herein most she mist,
“Thy pride and scorn made her turn satirist,
And not her love to virtue,” as thou preachest,
Or should we minister strong pills to thee;
What lumps of hard and indigested stuff
Of bitter satirism, or arrogance,
Of self-love, of detraction, of a black
And stinking insolence shold we fetch up?
But none of these; we give thee what’s more fit,
With stinging nettles crown his stinging wit.
TUCCA
Well said, my poetical huckster; now he’s in thy handling, rate him, do, rate him well.
HORACE
O, I beseech your majesty, rather than thus to be nettled, I’ll ha’ my satyr’s coat pull’d over mine ears and be turn’d out a the nine muses service.
ASINIUS
And I too.Let me be put to my shifts with mine Ningle.
SIR VAUGHAN
By Sesu, so you shall, Master Bubo.Flea off this hairy skin, Master Horace, so, so, so, untruss, untruss.
TUCCA
His poetical wreath my dapper punk-fetcher.
HORACE
Ooh —
SIR VAUGHAN
Nay, you “oohs,” nor you callinoes cannot serve your turn.Your tongue, you know, is full of blisters with railing, your face full of pocky-holes and pimples with your fiery inventions; and therefore to preserve your head from aching, this biggin is yours.Nay, by Sesu, you shall be a poet, though not lorified, yet nettlefied, so —
TUCCA
Sirrah stinker, thou’rt but untruss’d now.I owe thee a whipping still, and I’ll pay it.I have laid rods in piss and vinegar for thee.It shall not be the whipping a’th’satyr, nor the whipping of the blind bear, but of a counterfeit light that steals the name of Horace.
KING
How?Counterfeit?Does he usurp that name?
SIR VAUGHAN
Yes, indeed, an’t please your grace, he does sup up that abominable name.
TUCCA
He does, O King Cambyses, he does.Thou hast no part of Horace in thee but’s name, and his damnable vices.Thou hast such a terrible mouth that thy beard’s afraid to peep out.But, look here, you starving leviathan, here’s the sweet visage of Horace; look perboil’d face, look; Horace had a trim long-beard, and a reasonable good face for a poet, as faces go now-a-days; Horace did not screw and wriggle himself into great men’s familiarity, impudently, as thou dost, nor wear the badge of gentlemen’s company, as thou dost, thy taffety sleeves tack’d too only with some points of profit.No, Horace had not his face punch’d full of oylet-holes, like the cover of a warming-pan; Horace lov’d poets will and gave coxcombs to none but fools, but thou lov’st none, neither wise men nor fools, but thyself.Horace was a goodly corpulent gentleman, and not so lean a hollow-cheek’d scrag as thou art.No, here’s the copy of thy countenance, by this will I learn to make a number of villainous faces more, and to look scurvily upon th’world, as thou dost.
CRISPINUS
Sir Vaughan, willyou minister their oath?
SIR VAUGHAN
Master Asinius Bubo,you shall swear as little as you can; one oath shall damn up your innocent mouth.
ASINIUS
Any oath, sir, I’ll swear any thing.
SIR VAUGHAN
You shall swear by Phœbus, who is your poets’ good lord and master, that hereafter you will not hire Horace to give you poesies for rings or handkerchiefs or knives which you understand not, nor to write you love letters which you, in turning of a hand, set your marks upon, as your own, nor you shall not carry Latin poets about you, till you can write and read English at most, and lastly, that you shallnot call Horace your Ningle.
ASINIUS
By Phœbus, I swear all this, and as many others as you will, so I may trudge.
SIR VAUGHAN
Trudge then, pay your legs for fees, and be dissarg’d.
TUCCA
‘Tprooth, run red-cap, wear horns there.[Exit ASINIUS.
SIR VAUGHAN
Now, Master Horace, you must be a more horrible swearer, for your oath must be, like your wits, of many colours, and like a broker’s book of many parcels.
TUCCA
Read, read, th’inventory of his oath.
HORACE
I’ll swear till my hair stands up an end, to be rid of this sting, oh this sting.
SIR VAUGHAN
’Tis not your sting of conscience, is it?
TUCCA
Upon him.Imprimus.
SIR VAUGHAN
Imprimus, you shall swear by Phœbus and the half a score muses lacking one, not to swear to hang yourself, if you thought any man, ‘oman or sild could write plays and rhymes as well-favour’d ones as yourself.
TUCCA
Well said.Hast brought him to’th’gallows already?
SIR VAUGHAN
You shall swear not to bombast out a new play with the old lining of jests stoln from the Temples Revels.
TUCCA
To him, old Tango!
SIR VAUGHAN
Besides, you must forswear to enter on the stage when your play is ended and to exchange curtizies, and complements with gallants in the lords rooms, to make all the house rise up in arms and to cry, “That’s Horace, that’s he, that’s he, that’s he,” that pens and purges humours and diseases.
TUCCA
There boy, again!
SIR VAUGHAN
Secondly, when you bid all your friends to the marriage of a poor couple, that is to say, your wits and necessities, alias dictus, to the rifling of yoru must, alias your muses upsetting; alias a poet’s Whitson ale; you shall swear that within three days after you shall not abroad, in book-binder’s shops, brag that your vizeroys or tributary kings have doen homage to you, or paid quarterage.
TUCCA
I’ll buss thy head, Holifernes!
SIR VAUGHAN
Moreover, and Imprimus, when a knight or sentleman or ‘orship does give you his passport to travail in and out to his company and gives you money for God’s sake, I trust in Sesu, you will swear, tooth and nail, not to make scald and wry-mouth jests upon his knighthood, will you not?
HORACE
I never did it, by Parnassus!
TUCCA
Would swear by Parcassus and lie too, Doctor Doddypol?
SIR VAUGHAN
Thirdly, and last of all saving one, when your plays are mislikes at court, you shall not cry “mew” like a puss-cat and say you are glad you write out of the courtier’s element.
TUCCA
Let the element alone, ’tis out a’ thy reach.
SIR VAUGHAN
In brieflyness, when you sup in taverns amongst your betters, you shall swear not to dip your manners in too much sauce, not at table to fling epigrams, emblems or play speeches about you, like hailstones, to keep you out of the terrible danger of the shot, upon pain to sit at the upper end of the table a’th’left hand of Carlo Buffoon.Swear all this, by Apollo, and the eight or nine muses.
HORACE
By Apollo, Helicon, the muses, who march three and three in a rank, and by all that belongs to Parnassus, I swear all this.
TUCCA
Bear witness.
CRISPINUS
That fearful wreath, this honour is your due,
“All poets shall be poet-apes but you.”
Thanks, learning true Mecænas, poesy’s king,
Thanks for that graci
ous ear, which you have lent
To this most tedious, most rude argument.
KING
Our spirits have well been feasted; he whose pen
Sraws both corrupt and clear blood from all men,
Careless what vein he pricks, let him not rave,
When his own sides are struck, blows, blows, do crave.
TUCCA
King’s truce, my noble herb-a-grace, my princely sweet William, a boon.Stay first, i’st a match or no, match, Lady Funival, is’t?
SIR ADAM & SIR QUINTILIAN
A match?
MINIVER
Ay, a match, since he hath hit the mistress so often i’th’foregame, we’ll e’en play out a rubbers.
SIR ADAM
Take her for me.
SIR QUINTILIAN
Take her for thyself, not for me.
SIR VAUGHAN
Play out your rubbers in God’s name, by Sesu, I’ll never bowl more in your alley, ‘idow.
SIR QUINTILIAN
My chain!
SIR ADAM
My purse!
TUCCA
I’ll chain thee presently and give thee ten pount and a purse.A boon, my liege, dance, O my delicate Rufus, at my wedding with this verent antiquary.Is’t done?Would thou?
KING
I’ll give thee kingly honour; night and sleep
With silken ribands would tie up our eyes.
But Mistress bride, one measure shall be led
In scorne of midnight’s hast, and then to bed. [Exeunt.
Epilogue
TUCCA
Gentlemen, gallants, and you, my little swaggers that fight love:my tough hearts of oak that stand to’t so valiantly, and are still within a yard of your Captain:now the trumpets, that set men together by the ears, have left their tanrara-rag-boy, let’s part friends.I recant, bear witness all you gentlefolds, that walk i’th’galleries, I recant the opinions which I held of courtiers, ladies, and citizens, when once, in an assembly of friars, I rail’d upon them, that heretical libertine Horace taught me so to mouth it.Besides, ’twas when stiff Tucca was a boy”’twas not Tucca that rail’d and roar’d then, but the devil and his angels.But now, king’s truce, the Captain summons a parley and delivers himself and his prating company into your hands, upon what compositionyou will.Are you pleas’d?And I’ll dance here for your two pence a piece again, before I’ll lose your company.I know nwo some be come hither with cheeks swoln as big as hisses, as if they had the tooth-ache. ‘Od’s foot, if I stood by them, I’d be so bold as entreat them to hiss in another place.Are you advis’d what you do when you hiss?You blow away Horace’s revenge; but if you set your hands and seals to this, Horace will write against it, and you may have more sport; he shall not lose his labour, he shall not turn his blank verse into waste paper.No, my poetasters will not laugh at him, but will untruss him again and again and again.I’ll tell you what you shall do, castyour little Tucca into a bell; do
make a bell of me, and be all you my clappers,
upon condition, we may have a lusty
peal, this cold weather; I have
but two legs left me,
and they are both
yours:good night,
my two penny
tenants,
God night.
FINIS
Blurt, Master Constable (1602)
In collaboration with Thomas Middleton
CONTENTS
Dramatis Personæ
Act I Scene 1.
Act I Scene 2.
Act II Scene 1.
Act II Scene 2.
Act III Scene 1.
Act III Scene 2.
Act III Scene 3.
Act IV Scene 1.
Act IV Scene 2.
Act IV Scene 3.
Act V Scene 1.
Act V Scene 2.
Act V Scene 3.
The 1602 title page
Dramatis Personæ
HIPOLITO, a Venetian gentleman
VIOLETTA, his sister
FIRST LADY, called Hero
VIRGILIO, a Venetian gentleman
THIRD LADY
CAMILLO, a Venetian gentleman in love with Violetta
SECOND LADY
BAPTISTA, a Venetian gentleman
BENTIVOLIO, a Venetian gentleman
DOYT, Hipolito’s page
DANDIPRAT, Camillo’s page
FONTINELL, a French gentleman
LAZARILLO de Tormes de Castille, a Spanish soldier
PILCHER, his boy
BLURT, master constable
SLUBBER, his beadle
TRUEPENNY, Violetta’s page
serving-mEN
IMPERIA, a courtesan
TRIVIA, her maid
SIMPERINA, her maid
FRISCO, her porter
CURVETTO, an old courtier
MUSICIANS
A FRIAR
Five COURTESANS of Imperia’s house
WOODCOCK, part of the watch
GULCH, part of the watch
ASORINO, a Venetian gentleman
The DUKE of Venice
KILDERKIN, part of the watch
PISSBREECH, part of the watch
CUCKOO, part of the watch
GARLIC, part of the watch]
Act I Scene 1.
A ROOM IN Camillo’s house
Enter Camillo with Violetta, Hipolito, Baptisto, Bentivolio, and Virgilio, as returning from war, everyone with a glove in his hat, [Violetta and] ladies with them, Doyt and Dandiprat.
HIPOLITO
Ay, marry, sir, the only rising up in arms is in the arms of a woman: Peace, I say still, is your only paradise, when every Adam may have his Christmas Eve. And you take me lying any more by the cold sides of a brazen-face field-piece, unless I have such a down pillow under me, I’ll give you leave to knock up both my golls in my father’s hall, and hang hats upon these tenpenny nails.
VIOLETTA
And yet, brother, when with the sharpest hooks of my wit I labour’d to pull you from the wars, you broke loose, like a horse that knew his own strength, and vow’d nothing but a man of war should back you.
HIPOLITO
I have been back’d since and almost unback’d too.
VIOLETTA
And swore that honour was never dyed in grain till it was dipp’d in the colours of the field.
HIPOLITO
I am a new man, sister, and now cry a pox a’ that honour, that must have none but barber-surgeons to wait upon’t, and a band of poor straggling rascals, that every twinkling of an eye, forfeit their legs and arms into the Lord’s hands. Wenches, by Mars his sweaty buff-jerkin (for now all my oaths must smell a’ the soldado), I have seen more men’s heads spurn’d up and down like footballs at a breakfast, after the hungry cannons had pick’d them, than are maidenheads in Venice, and more legs of men serv’d in at a dinner than ever I shall see legs of capons in one platter whilst I live.
FIRST LADY
Perhaps all those were capons’ legs you did see.
VIRGILIO
Nay, mistress, I’ll witness against you for some of them.
VIOLETTA
I do not think for all this that my brother stood to it so lustily as he makes his brags for.
THIRD LADY
No, no, these great talkers are never great doers.
VIOLETTA
Faith, brother, how many did you kill for your share?
HIPOLITO
Not so many as thou hast done with that villainous eye by a thousand.
VIOLETTA
I thought so much; that’s just none.
CAMILLO
’Tis not a soldier’s glory to tell how many lives he has ended, but how many he has saved: in both which honours the noble Hipolito had most excellent possession. Believe it, my fair mistress, tho’ many men in a battle have done more, your brother in this equal’d him who did most. He went from you a worthy gentleman; he brings with him that title that makes a gentleman most worthy, the na
me of a soldier, which how well and how soon he hath earn’d would in me seem glorious to rehearse, in you to hear, but because his own ear dwells so near my voice, I will play the ill neighbour and case to speak well of him.
VIOLETTA
An argument that either you dare not or love not to flatter.
CAMILLO
No more than I dare or love to do wrong; yet to make a chronicle of my friend’s nobly-acted deeds would stand as far from flattery in me as cowardice did from him.
HIPOLITO
‘Sfoot, if all the wit in this company have nothing to set itself about but to run division upon me, why then e’en burn off mine ears indeed; but, my little mermaids, Signior Camillo does this that I now might describe the Ninevitical motion of the whole battle, and so tell what he has done. And come, shall I begin?
FIRST LADY
O, for beauty’s love, a good motion.
HIPOLITO
But I can tell you one thing, I shall make your hair stand up an end at some things.
VIOLETTA
Prithee, good brother soldier, keep the peace. Our hair stand an end? Pity a’ my heart, the next end would be of our wits; we hang out a white flag, most terrible Tamburlaine, and beg mercy. Come, come, let us neither have your Ninevitcal motions nor your swaggering battles. Why, my Lord Camillo, you invited me hither to a banquet, not to the ballad of a pitch’d field.
CAMILLO
And here it stands, bright mistress, sweetly attending what doom your lips will lay upon it.
VIOLETTA
Ay, marry, sir, let our teeth describe this motion.
SECOND LADY
We shall never describe it well for fumbling i’ th’ mouth.
HIPOLITO
Yes, yes, I have a trick to make us understand one another and we fumble never so —
VIOLETTA
Meddle not with his tricks, sweet heart. Under pardon, my lord, tho’ I am your guest, I’ll bestow myself. Sit, dear beauties: for the men, let them take up places themselves. I prithee, brother fighter, sit, and talk of any subject but this jangling law at arms.
HIPOLITO
The law at legs then.
VIOLETTA
Will you be so lusty? No, nor legs neither; we’ll them tied up too. Since you are among ladies, gallants, handle those things only that are fit for ladies.