Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker

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Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker Page 171

by Thomas Dekker


  I’ll forfeit my whole state before these gentlemen.

  GREENWIT

  Troth, but you shall not undertake such matches;

  We’ll persuade so much with you.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Here’s my ring;

  He will believe this token. ‘Fore these gentlemen

  I will confirm it fully: all those lands

  My first love ‘lotted him he shall straight possess

  In that refusal.

  SIR GUY

  If I change it not,

  Change me into a beggar.

  GREENWIT

  Are you mad, sir?

  SIR GUY

  ’Tis done.

  GOSHAWK

  Will you undo yourself by doing,

  And show a prodigal trick in your old days?

  SIR ALEXANDER

  ’Tis a match, gentlemen.

  SIR GUY

  Ay, ay, sir, ay.

  I ask no favour, trust to you for none;

  My hope rests in the goodness of your son.

  Exit [Sir Guy] Fitzallard.

  GREENWIT

  He holds it up well yet.

  GOSHAWK

  Of an old knight, i’faith.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Curs’d be the time I laid his first love barren,

  Willfully barren, that before this hour

  Had sprung forth fruits of comfort and of honour!

  He lov’d a virtuous gentlewoman.

  Enter Moll [in man’s clothes].

  GOSHAWK

  Life,

  Here’s Moll!

  GREENWIT

  Jack?

  GOSHAWK

  How dost thou, Jack?

  MOLL

  How dost thou, gallant?

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Impudence, where’s my son?

  MOLL

  Weakness, go look him.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Is this your wedding gown?

  MOLL

  The man talks monthly:

  Hot broth and a dark chamber for the knight;

  I see he’ll be stark mad at our next meeting.

  Exit Moll.

  GOSHAWK

  Why, sir, take comfort now, there’s no such matter:

  No priest will marry her, sir, for a woman

  Whiles that shape’s on, and it was never known

  Two men were married and conjoin’d in one.

  Your son hath made some shift to love another.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Whate’er she be, she has my blessing with her.

  May they be rich and fruitful, and receive

  Like comfort to their issue as I take

  In them; h’as pleas’d me now, marrying not this:

  Through a whole world he could not choose amiss.

  GREENWIT

  Glad y’are so penitent for your former sin, sir.

  GOSHAWK

  Say he should take a wench with her smock-dowry,

  No portion with her but her lips and arms?

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Why, who thrive better, sir? They have most blessing,

  Though other have more wealth, and least repent:

  Many that want most know the most content.

  GREENWIT

  Say he should marry a kind, youthful sinner?

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Age will quench that: any offence but theft

  And drunkenness, nothing but death can wipe away;

  Their sins are green even when their heads are grey.

  Nay, I despair not now; my heart’s cheer’d, gentlemen:

  No face can come unfortunately to me.

  Enter a Servant.

  Now, sir, your news?

  SERVANT

  Your son with his fair bride

  Is near at hand.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Fair may their fortunes be!

  GREENWIT

  Now you’re resolv’d, sir, it was never she?

  SIR ALEXANDER

  I find it in the music of my heart.

  Enter Moll mask’d, in Sebastian’s hand, and [Sir Guy] Fitzallard.

  See where they come.

  GOSHAWK

  A proper lusty presence, sir.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Now has he pleas’d me right: I always counsell’d him

  To choose a goodly, personable creature;

  Just of her pitch was my first wife his mother.

  SEBASTIAN

  Before I dare discover my offence,

  I kneel for pardon.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  My heart gave it thee

  Before thy tongue could ask it.

  Rise; thou hast rais’d my joy to greater height

  Than to that seat where grief dejected it.

  Both welcome to my love and care forever,

  Hide not my happiness too long, all’s pardoned.

  Here are our friends. Salute her, gentlemen.

  They unmask her.

  OMNES

  Heart! Who[‘s] this? Moll?

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Oh, my reviving shame! Is’t I must live

  To be struck blind? Be it the work of sorrow,

  Before age take ‘t in hand.

  SIR GUY

  Darkness and death!

  Have you deceiv’d me thus? Did I engage

  My whole estate for this?

  SIR ALEXANDER

  You ask’d no favour,

  And you shall find as little; since my comforts

  Play false with me, I’ll be as cruel to thee

  As grief to fathers’ hearts.

  MOLL

  Why, what’s the matter with you,

  ‘Less too much joy should make your age forgetful?

  Are you too well, too happy?

  SIR ALEXANDER

  With a vengeance.

  MOLL

  Methinks you should be proud of such a daughter,

  As good a man as your son.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Oh, monstrous impudence!

  MOLL

  You had no note before, an unmark’d knight:

  Now all the town will take regard on you,

  And all your enemies fear you for my sake.

  You may pass where you list through crowds most thick,

  And come off bravely with your purse unpick’d;

  You do not know the benefits I bring with me:

  No cheat dares work upon you with thumb or knife

  While y’ave a roaring girl to your son’s wife.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  A devil rampant!

  SIR GUY

  Have you so much charity

  Yet to release me of my last rash bargain,

  And I’ll give in your pledge.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  No sir, I stand to’t, I’ll work upon advantage,

  As all mischiefs do upon me.

  SIR GUY

  Content, bear witness all then

  His are the lands, and so contention ends.

  Here comes your son’s bride, ‘twixt two noble friends.

  Enter the Lord Noland and Sir Beauteous Ganymede with Mary Fitzallard between them, the citizens and their wives with them.

  MOLL

  Now are you gull’d as you would be, thank me for’t:

  I’d a forefinger in’t.

  SEBASTIAN

  Forgive me, father;

  Though there before your eyes my sorrow feigned,

  This still was she for whom true love complain’d.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Blessings eternal and the joys of angels

  Begin your peace here to be sign’d in heaven.

  How short my sleep of sorrow seems now to me

  To this eternity of boundless comforts

  That finds no want but utterance and expression!

  My lord, your office here appears so honourably,

  So full of ancient goodness, grace, and worthiness:

  I never took more joy
in sight of man

  Than in your comfortable presence now.

  LORD NOLAND

  Nor I more delight in doing grace to virtue

  Than in this worthy gentlewoman, your son’s bride,

  Noble Fitzallard’s daughter, to whose honour

  And modest fame I am a servant vow’d;

  So is this knight.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Your loves make my joys proud.

  Bring forth those deeds of land my care laid ready,

  And which, old knight, thy nobleness may challenge,

  Join’d with thy daughter’s virtues, whom I prize now

  As dearly as that flesh I call mine own.

  Forgive me, worthy gentlewoman, ’twas my blindness

  When I rejected thee; I saw thee not:

  Sorrow and willful rashness grew like films

  Over the eyes of judgment, now so clear

  I see the brightness of thy worth appear.

  MARY

  Duty and love may I deserve in those,

  And all my wishes have a perfect close,

  SIR ALEXANDER

  That tongue can never err, the sound’s so sweet.

  Here, honest son, receive into thy hands

  The keys of wealth, possession of those lands

  Which my first care provided: they’re thine own;

  Heaven give thee a blessing with ’em. The best joys

  That can in worldly shapes to man betide

  Are fertile lands and a fair fruitful bride,

  Of which I hope thou’rt sped.

  SEBASTIAN

  I hope so too, sir.

  MOLL

  Father and son, I ha’ done you simple service here.

  SEBASTIAN

  For which thou shalt not part, Moll, unrequited.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  Thou art a mad girl, and yet I cannot now

  Condemn thee.

  MOLL

  Condemn me? Troth, and you should, sir.

  I’d make you seek out one to hang in my room;

  I’d give you the slip at gallows and cozen the people.

  Heard you this jest, my lord?

  LORD NOLAND

  What is it, Jack?

  MOLL

  He was in fear his son would marry me,

  But never dreamt that I would ne’er agree.

  LORD NOLAND

  Why? Thou hadst a suitor once, Jack. When wilt marry?

  MOLL

  Who, I, my lord? I’ll tell you when, i’faith.

  When you shall hear

  Gallants void from sergeants’ fear,

  Honesty and truth unsland’red,

  Woman mann’d but never pand’red,

  [Cheaters] booted but not coach’d,

  Vessels older ere they’re broach’d:

  If my mind be then not varied,

  Next day following I’ll be married.

  LORD NOLAND

  This sounds like doomsday,

  MOLL

  Then were marriage best,

  For if I should repent, I were soon at rest.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  In troth, th’ art a good wench. I’m sorry now

  The opinion was so hard I conceiv’d of thee;

  Some wrongs I’ve done thee.

  Enter Trapdoor.

  TRAPDOOR

  Is the wind there now?

  ’Tis time for me to kneel and confess first,

  For fear it come too late and my brains feel it:

  Upon my paws, I ask you pardon, mistress.

  MOLL

  Pardon? For what, sir? What has your rogueship done now?

  TRAPDOOR

  I have been from time to time hir’d to confound you

  By this old gentleman.

  MOLL

  How!

  TRAPDOOR

  Pray forgive him,

  But may I counsel you, you should never do’t.

  Many a snare to entrap your worship’s life

  Have I laid privily, chains, watches, jewels,

  And when he saw nothing could mount you up,

  Four hollow-hearted angels he then gave you

  By which he meant to trap you, I to save you.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  To all which shame and grief in me cry guilty.

  Forgive me; now I cast the world’s eyes from me

  And look upon thee freely with mine own:

  I see the most of many wrongs before [thee],

  Cast from the jaws of envy and her people,

  And nothing foul but that. I’ll never more

  Condemn by common voice, for that’s the whore

  That deceives man’s opinion, mocks his trust,

  Cozens his love, and makes his heart unjust.

  MOLL

  Here be the angels, gentlemen; they were given me

  As a musician. I pursue no pity;

  Follow the law: and you can cuck me, spare not;

  Hang up my viol by me, and I care not.

  SIR ALEXANDER

  So far I’m sorry I’ll thrice double ’em

  To make thy wrongs amends.

  Come, worthy friends, my honourable lord,

  Sir Beauteous Ganymede, and noble Fitzallard,

  And you kind [gentlewomen], whose sparkling presence

  Are glories set in marriage, beams of society,

  For all your loves give lustre to my joys.

  The happiness of this day shall be rememb’red

  At the return of every smiling spring;

  In my time now ’tis born, and may no sadness

  Sit on the brows of men upon that day,

  But as I am, so all go pleas’d away.

  [Exeunt all but Moll.]

  Epilogue

  [MOLL]

  A painter, having drawn with curious art

  The picture of a woman, every part

  Limn’d to the life, hung out the piece to sell.

  People who pass’d along, viewing it well,

  Gave several verdicts on it: some dispraised

  The hair; some said the brows too high were raised;

  Some hit her o’er the lips, mislik’d their colour;

  Some wish’d her nose were shorter; some, the eyes fuller;

  Others said roses on her cheeks should grow,

  Swearing they look’d too pale; others cried no.

  The workman still as fault was found did mend it

  In hope to please all, but this work being ended

  And hung open at stall, it was so vile,

  So monstrous and so ugly, all men did smile

  At the poor painter’s folly. Such we doubt

  Is this our comedy. Some perhaps do flout

  The plot, saying, “’Tis too thin, too weak, too mean;”

  Some for the person will revile the scene,

  And wonder that a creature of her being

  Should be the subject of a poet, seeing

  In the world’s eye none weighs so light; others look

  For all those base tricks publish’d in a book,

  Foul as his brains they flow’d from, of cutpurse[s],

  Of nips and foists, nasty, obscene discourses,

  As full of lies, as empty of worth or wit,

  For any honest ear or eye unfit. And thus,

  If we to every brain that’s humourous

  Should fashion scenes, we with the painter shall

  In striving to please all please none at all.

  Yet for such faults as either the writers’ wit

  Or negligence of the actors do commit,

  Both crave your pardons; if what both have done

  Cannot full pay your expectation,

  The Roaring Girl herself some few days hence

  Shall on this stage give larger recompense,

  Which mirth that you may share in herself does woo you,

  And craves this sign: your hands to beckon her to you.

  [Exit.]

  FINIS

  The Wit
ch of Edmonton (1621)

  In collaboration with John Ford, William Rowley and others

  The Witch of Edmonton was entered into the Stationers’ Register in the spring of 1621. It was written in late April 1621 and most likely first staged at The Phoenix Theatre (previously the ‘Cockpit’) in the summer before then. However, it was not published until 1658, when the bookseller Edward Blackmore commissioned J. Cottrel to print the play for him. It is a collaboration between Dekker, William Rowley and John Ford. William Rowley was known as an actor as much as a dramatist during his lifetime and he was part of a few successful theatre troupes, including the Queen Anne’s Men, Prince Charles’s Men and finally the King’s Men. He joined the latter troupe in 1623 and performed at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre until his death in 1626. John Ford began to write works for publication in 1606, but did not start his career as a playwright until 1620. He collaborated on many dramatic works and his most famous and celebrated play, ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore, was published in 1633.

  The Witch of Edmonton was based on the real life story of Elizabeth Sawyer who was executed for witchcraft on 19 April 1621. She had been accused of witchcraft by her neighbours and, when a woman leaving nearby died shortly after having a disagreement with her, Sawyer was put on trial. Eight days after she was found guilty and hanged. The chaplain of the prison, Henry Goodcole, released his pamphlet about the case, The Wonderful Discoverie of Elizabeth Sawyer, Witch, which Dekker used as the main source for the witchcraft plot. The Frank Thorney plot is usually credited to Ford and is a domestic tragedy of bigamy and murder, while the subplot involving Cuddy Banks and the Morris dancers is believed to have been written by Rowley. The play was rarely performed in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, but it was revived in the twentieth century and has only increased in popularity in recent years. There have been an abundance of performances of the play in the twenty-first century, including a notable 2014 production by The Royal Shakespeare Company.

  The title page from the 1658 quarto

  CONTENTS

  PROLOGUE

  DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

  ACT THE FIRST.

  SCENE I. — The neighbourhood of Edmonton. A Room in the House of Sir Arthur Clarington.

  SCENE II. — Edmonton. A Room in Carter’s House.

  ACT THE SECOND.

  SCENE I. — The Fields near Edmonton.

  SCENE II. — Carter’s House.

  ACT THE THIRD.

  SCENE I. — The Village Green.

  SCENE II. — The neighbourhood of Edmonton.

  SCENE III. — A Field with a clump of trees.

  SCENE IV. — Before Sir Arthur Clarington’s House.

  ACT THE FOURTH.

  SCENE I. — Edmonton. The Street.

  SCENE II. A Bedroom in Carter’s House. A bed thrust forth, with Frank in a slumber.

  ACT THE FIFTH.

 

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