Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker

by Thomas Dekker

  Draw all your weapons!

  Hip. Do; draw all your weapons.

  Duke. Where are your weapons? draw!

  Cas., Pio., &c. The friar has gulled us of ’em.

  Mat. O rare trick!

  You ha’ learnt one mad point of arithmetic.

  Hip. Why swells your spleen so high? against what bosom

  Would you your weapons draw? her’s? ’tis your daughter’s:

  Mine? ’tis your son’s.

  Duke. Son?

  Mat. Son, by yonder sun.

  Hip. You cannot shed blood here but ’tis your own;

  To spill your own blood were damnation:

  Lay smooth that wrinkled brow, and I will throw

  Myself beneath your feet:

  Let it be ruggèd still and flinted ore,

  What can come forth but sparkles, that will burn

  Yourself and us? She’s mine; my claim’s most good;

  She’s mine by marriage, though she’s yours by blood.

  Ans. [Kneeling.] I have a hand, dear lord, deep in this act,

  For I foresaw this storm, yet willingly

  Put forth to meet it. Oft have I seen a father

  Washing the wounds of his dear son in tears,

  A son to curse the sword that struck his father,

  Both slain i’ th’ quarrel of your families.

  Those scars are now ta’en off; and I beseech you

  To seal our pardon! All was to this end,

  To turn the ancient hates of your two houses

  To fresh green friendship, that your loves might look

  Like the spring’s forehead, comfortably sweet:

  And your vexed souls in peaceful union meet,

  Their blood will now be yours, yours will be their’s,

  And happiness shall crown your silver hairs.

  Flu. You see, my lord, there’s now no remedy.

  Cas., Pio., &c. Beseech your lordship!

  Duke. You beseech fair, you have me in place fit

  To bridle me — Rise friar, you may be glad

  You can make madmen tame, and tame men mad,

  Since Fate hath conquered, I must rest content,

  To strive now, would but add new punishment:

  I yield unto your happiness; be blest,

  Our families shall henceforth breathe in rest.

  All. Oh, happy change!

  Duke. Your’s now is my content,

  I throw upon your joys my full consent.

  Bell. Am not I a good girl, for finding the friar in the well? God’s-so, you are a brave man: will not you buy me some sugar-plums, because I am so good a fortune-teller?

  Duke. Would thou hadst wit, thou pretty soul, to ask,

  As I have will to give.

  Bell. Pretty soul? a pretty soul is better than a pretty body: do not you know my pretty soul? I know you: Is not your name Matheo?

  Mat. Yes, lamb.

  Bell. Baa lamb! there you lie, for I am mutton. — Look, fine man! he was mad for me once, and I was mad for him once, and he was mad for her once, and were you never mad? Yes, I warrant; I had a fine jewel once, a very fine jewel, and that naughty man stole it away from me, — a very fine and a rich jewel.

  Duke. What jewel, pretty maid?

  Bell. Maid? nay, that’s a lie: O, ’twas a very rich jewel, called a maidenhead, and had not you it, leerer?

  Mat. Out, you mad ass! away.

  Duke. Had he thy maidenhead?

  He shall make thee amends, and marry thee.

  Bell. Shall he? O brave Arthur of Bradley then?

  Duke. And if he bear the mind of a gentleman,

  I know he will.

  Mat. I think I rifled her of some such paltry jewel.

  Duke. Did you? Then marry her; you see the wrong

  Has led her spirits into a lunacy.

  Mat. How? marry her, my lord? ‘Sfoot, marry a madwoman? Let a man get the tamest wife he can come by, she’ll be mad enough afterward, do what he can.

  Duke. Nay then, Father Anselmo here shall do his best,

  To bring her to her wits; and will you then?

  Mat. I cannot tell, I may choose.

  Duke. Nay, then, law shall compel: I tell you, sir,

  So much her hard fate moves me, you should not breathe

  Under this air, unless you married her.

  Mat. Well, then, when her wits stand in their right place,

  I’ll marry her.

  Bell. I thank your grace. — Matheo, thou art mine:

  I am not mad, but put on this disguise,

  Only for you, my lord; for you can tell

  Much wonder of me, but you are gone: farewell.

  Matheo, thou didst first turn my soul black,

  Now make it white again: I do protest,

  I’m pure as fire now, chaste as Cynthia’s breast.

  Hip. I durst be sworn, Matheo, she’s indeed.

  Mat. Cony-catched, gulled, must I sail in your fly-boat,

  Because I helped to rear your main-mast first?

  Plague ‘found you for’t, ’tis well.

  The cuckold’s stamp goes current in all nations,

  Some men ha’ horns giv’n them at their creations,

  If I be one of those, why so: ’tis better

  To take a common wench, and make her good,

  Than one that simpers, and at first will scarce

  Be tempted forth over the threshold door,

  Yet in one se’nnight, zounds, turns arrant whore!

  Come wench, thou shalt be mine, give me thy golls,

  We’ll talk of legs hereafter. — See, my lord,

  God give us joy!

  All. God give you joy!

  Enter Viola and George.

  Geo. Come mistress, we are in Bedlam now; mass and see, we come in pudding-time, for here’s the duke.

  Vio. My husband, good my lord.

  Duke. Have I thy husband?

  Cast. It’s Candido, my lord, he’s here among the lunatics: Father Anselmo, pray fetch him forth. [Exit Anselmo.] This mad woman is his wife, and though she were not with child, yet did she long most spitefully to have her husband mad: and because she would be sure he should turn Jew, she placed him here in Bethlem. Yonder he comes.

  Enter Anselmo with Candido.

  Duke. Come hither, signor; are you mad?

  Cand. You are not mad.

  Duke. Why, I know that.

  Cand. Then may you know I am not mad, that know

  You are not mad, and that you are the duke:

  None is mad here but one. — How do you, wife?

  What do you long for now? — Pardon, my lord:

  She had lost her child’s nose else: I did cut out

  Pennyworths of lawn, the lawn was yet mine own:

  A carpet was my gown, yet ’twas mine own:

  I wore my man’s coat, yet the cloth mine own:

  Had a cracked crown, the crown was yet mine own.

  She says for this I’m mad: were her words true,

  I should be mad indeed: O foolish skill!

  Is patience madness? I’ll be a madman still.

  Vio. Forgive me, and I’ll vex your spirit no more. [Kneels.

  Duke. Come, come, we’ll have you friends; join hearts, join hands.

  Cand. See, my lord, we are even, —

  Nay rise, for ill deeds kneel unto none but Heaven.

  Duke. Signor, methinks patience has laid on you

  Such heavy weight, that you should loathe it ——

  Cand. Loathe it!

  Duke. For he whose breast is tender, blood so cool,

  That no wrongs heat it, is a patient fool:

  What comfort do you find in being so calm?

  Cand. That which green wounds receive from sovereign balm,

  Patience, my lord! why, ’tis the soul of peace;

  Of all the virtues, ’tis nearest kin to Heaven.

  It makes men look like gods. The best of men

  That e’er wore earth about hi
m, was a sufferer,

  A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit,

  The first true gentleman that ever breathed.

  The stock of patience then cannot be poor;

  All it desires, it has; what monarch more?

  It is the greatest enemy to law

  That can be; for it doth embrace all wrongs,

  And so chains up lawyers and women’s tongues.

  ’Tis the perpetual prisoner’s liberty,

  His walks and orchards: ’tis the bond slave’s freedom,

  And makes him seem proud of each iron chain,

  As though he wore it more for state than pain:

  It is the beggars’ music, and thus sings,

  Although their bodies beg, their souls are kings.

  O my dread liege! It is the sap of bliss

  Rears us aloft, makes men and angels kiss.

  And last of all, to end a household strife,

  It is the honey ‘gainst a waspish wife.

  Duke. Thou giv’st it lively colours: who dare say

  He’s mad, whose words march in so good array?

  ‘Twere sin all women should such husbands have,

  For every man must then be his wife’s slave.

  Come, therefore, you shall teach our court to shine,

  So calm a spirit is worth a golden mine,

  Wives with meek husbands that to vex them long,

  In Bedlam must they dwell, else dwell they wrong. [Exeunt omnes.

  The Magnificent Entertainment (1604)

  In collaboration with Ben Jonson and others

  CONTENTS

  A DEVICE (PROIECTED DOWNE, BUT TILL NOW NOT PUBLISHT,) THAT SHOULD HAUE SERUED AT HIS MAIESTIES FIRST ACCESSE TO THE CITIE.

  THE DEUICE.

  THE PERSONAGES (AS WELL MUTES AS SPEAKERS) IN THIS PAGEANT, WERE THESE: VIZ.

  THE ITALIANS PAGEANT.

  THE ITALIANS SPEACH.

  THE PAGEANT OF THE DUTCH-MEN, BY THE ROYALL EXCHANGE.

  THE DEUICE AT SOPER-LANE END.

  THE RECORDERS SPEECH.

  ORATIO HABITA, & AD REGEM, & CORAM REGE PRAE SCHOLA PAULINA.

  THE PAGEANT IN THE STROND.

  TO THE READER.

  THE MAGNIFICENT Entertainment:

  Giuen to King Iames, Queene Anne his wife, and Henry Frederick the Prince, vpon the day of his Maiesties Trvumphant Passage (from the Tower) through his Honourable Citie (and Chamber) of London, being the 15. of March. 1603. As well by the English as by the Strangers:

  WITH the speeches and Songes, deliuered in the seuerall Pageants.

  Mart. Templa Deis, mores populis dedit, otia ferro, Astra suis, Caelo sydera, serta Ioui.

  Tho. Dekker.

  Imprinted at London by T. C. for Tho. Man the yonger.

  1604.

  A DEVICE (PROIECTED DOWNE, BUT TILL NOW NOT PUBLISHT,) THAT SHOULD HAUE SERUED AT HIS MAIESTIES FIRST ACCESSE TO THE CITIE.

  THE SORROW AND amazement, that like an earthquake began to shake the distempered body of this Ila¯d (by reason of our late Soueraigns departure,) being wisely and miraculously preuented, and the feared wounds of a ciuill sword, (as Alexanders fury was with Musicke) being stopt from bursting forth, by the sound of Trompets that proclaimed King Iames: All mens eyes were presently turnd to the North, standing euen stone stil in their Circles, like the poynts of so many Geometricall needles, through a fixed & Adamantine desire to behold this 45. yeares wonder now brought forth by Tyme: their tongues neglecting all language else, saue that which spake zealous prayers, and vnceasable wishes, for his most speedy and longd-for arriuall. Insomuch that the Night was thought vnworthy to be crownd with sleepe, and the day not fit to be lookt vpon by the Sunne, which brought not some fresh tydings of his Maiesties more neare and neerer approach.

  At the length Expectation (who is euer waking) and that so long was great, grew neare the time of her deliuery, Rumor comming all in a sweate to play the Midwife, whose first-comfortable words were, that this Treasure of a Kingdome (a Man-Ruler) hid so many yeares from vs, was now brought to light, and at hand.

  Martiall. Et populi vox er at vna, Venit.

  And that he was to be conducted through some vtter part of this his Citie, to his royall Castle the Tower, that in the age of a man (till this very minute) had not bene acquainted nor bor•• the name of a Kings Court. Which Entrance of his (in this maner) being fam’de abroad, Because his louing Subiects the Citizens would giue a taste of their dutie and affection: The Deuice following was suddeinly made vp, as the first seruice, to a more royall and serious ensuing Entertainment; And this (as it was then purposed) should haue bene performed about the Barres beyond Bishops-gate.

  THE DEUICE.

  SAINT GEORGE, SAINT Andrew, (the Patrons of both Kingdomes) hauing along time lookt vpon each other, with countenances rather of meere strangers, then of such neare Neighbours, vpon the present aspect of his Maiesties approach toward I ondon, were (in his sight) to issue from two seuerall places on horsebacke, and in compleate Armour, their Brestes and Caparisons suited with the Armes of England and Scotland, (as they are now quartered) to testifie their leagued Combination, and newe sworne Brother-hood. These two armed Knights, encountring one another on the way, were to ride hand in hand, till they met his Maiestie. But the strangenesse of this newly-begotten amitie, flying ouer the earth, It calles vp the Genius of the Cittie, who (not so much mazde, as wondring at the Noueltie) Intersepts their Passage.

  And most a•tly (in our Iudgement) might this Domesticum Numen (the Genius of the place) lay iust clayme to this preheminence of first bestowing Salutations and welcomes on his Maiestie, Genius being held (Inter fictos Deos), to be God of Hospitalitie and Pleasure: and none but such a one was meet to receiue so •xcellent and princely Guest.

  Or if not worthy, for those two former respects: Yet being Deus Generationis, and hauing a power aswell ouer Countries, hearbs and trees, as ouer men, and the Cittie hauing now put on a Regeneration, or new birth; the induction of such a Person, might (with out a Warrant from the court of Critists) passe very currant.

  To make a false florish here with the borrowed weapons of all the old Maisters of the noble Science of Poesie, and to keepe a tyrannicall coyle, in Anatomizing Genius, from head to foote, (only to shew how nimbly we can caruevp the whole messe of the Poets) were to play the Executioner, and to lay out Cities houshold God on the rack, to make him confesse, how many paire of Latin sheets, we haue shaken & cut into shreds to make him a garment. Such feates of Actiuitie are stale, and common among Schollers, (before whome it is protested we come not now (in a Pageant) to Play a Maisters prize) For Nunc ego ventosae plebis suffragia venor.

  The multitude is now to be our Audience, whose heads would miserably runne a wooll-gathering, if we doo but offer to breake them with hard words. But suppose (by the way) contrary to the opinion of all the Doctors) that our Genius (in regarde the place is Feminine, and the person it selfe, drawne Figura Humana, sed Ambiguo sexu) should at this time be thrust into womans apparell. It is no Schisme: be it so: our Genius is then a Female, Antique; and reuerend both in yeares and habit: a Chaplet of mingled flowres, Inter wouen with branches of the Plane Tree (crowning her Temples: her haire long and white: her Vesture a loose roabe, Changeable and powdred with Starres: And being (on horsebacke likewise) thus furnished, this was the tune of her voyce.

  Genius Locj.

  STAY: wee coniure you, by that Potent Name,

  of which each Letter’s (now) a triple charme:

  Stay; and deliuer vs, of whence you are,

  And why you beare (alone) th’os•ent of Warre,

  When all hands else reare Oliue boughs and Palme:

  And Halcyonean dayes assure all’s calme.

  When euery tongue speakes Musick: when each Pen

  (Dul’d and dyde blacke in Galle) is white agen,

  And dipt in Nectar, which by Delphick fire

  Being heated, melts into an Orphean-quire.

  When Troyes proud buildings shew
like Fairie-bowers,

  And Streets (like Gardens) are perfum’d with Flowers:

  And Windowes glazde onely with wondring eyes;

  (In a Kings looke such admiration lyes!)

  And when soft handed Peace, so sweetly thriues,

  That Bees in Souldiers Helmets build their Hiues:

  When loy a tip-toe stands on Fortunes Wheele,

  In silken Robes: How dare you shine in Steele?

  Saint George.

  Ladie, What are you that so question vs?

  Genius.

  I Am the places Genius, whence now springs

  A Vine, whose yongest Braunch shall produce Kings:

  This little world of men; this precious Stone,

  That sets out Europe: this (the glasse alone,)

  Where the neat Sunne each Morne him selfe attires,

  And gildes it with his repercussiue fires.

  This Iewell of the Land; Englands right Eye:

  Altar of Loue; and Spheare of Maiestie:

  Greene Neptunes Minion, bou’t whose Virgin-waste,

  Isis is like a Cristall girdle cast.

  Of this are we the Genius; here haue I,

  Slept (by the fauour of a Deity)

  Fortie-foure Summers and as many Springs,

  Not frighted with the threats of forraine Kings.

  But held vp in that gowned State I haue,

  By twice Twelue-Fathers politique and graue:

  Who with a sheathed Sword, and silken Law,

  Do keepe (within weake Walles) Millions in awe.

  I charge you therefore say, for what you come? What are you?

  Both.

  Knights at Armes.

  S. George.

  Saint George.

  Saint Andrew.

  Saint Andrew

  For Scotlands honour I.

  S. George.

  For Englands I

  Both sworne into a League of Vnitie.

  Genius.

  I Clap my hands for Ioy, and seate you both

  Next to my heart: In leaues of purest golde,

  This most auspicious loue shall be enrold.

  Be ioynde to vs: And as to earth we bowe,

  So, to those royall feet, bend your steelde brow.

  In name of all these Senators, (on whom

  Vertue builds more, then these of Antique Rome)