Dil.Blanket.
Bal.That I’ll toss love, like a dog in a blanket. Hah hah, indeed, law. I think, hah hah; I think, hah hah, I think I shall tickle the Muses. And I strike it not dead, say, Balurdo, thou art an arrant sot.270
Dil.Balurdo, thou art an arrant sot.
EnterAndrugioandAntoniowreathed together,Lucio.
And.Now, come, united force of chap-fall’n death;Come, power of fretting anguish, leave distress.O, thus enfolded, we have breasts of proof’Gainst all the venom’d stings of misery.
Ant.Father, now I have an antidote’Gainst all the poison that the world can breathe:My Mellida, my Mellida doth blessThis bleak waste with her presence.—Hownow, boy,Why dost thou weep? alas! where’s Mellida?280
Page.[157]Ay me, my Lord.
Ant.[158]A sudden horror doth invade my blood;My sinews tremble, and my panting heartScuds round about my bosom, to go out,Dreading the assailant, horrid passion.O, be no tyrant, kill me with one blow;Speak quickly, briefly, boy.
Page.Her father found, and seized her; she is gone.
And.Son, heat thy blood, be not froze up with griefCourage, sweet boy, sink not beneath the weight290Of crushing mischief. O where’s thy dauntless heart,Thy father’s spirit! I renounce thy blood,If thou forsake thy valour.
Lu.See how his grief speaks in his slow-paced steps.Alas!’Tis more than he can utter, let him go:Dumb solitary path best suiteth woe.
[ExitAntonio.
And.Give me my arms, my armour, Lucio.
Lu.Dear lord, what means this rage? when lacking use[159]Scarce safe’s your life, will you in armour rise?300
And.Fortune fears valour, presseth cowardice.
Lu.Then valour gets applause, when it hath place,And means to blaze it.
And.Nunquam potest non esse.
Lu.Patience, my lord, may bring your ills some end.
And.What patience, friend, can ruin’d hopes attend?Come, let me die like old Andrugio,Worthy my birth. O, blood-true-honour’d gravesAre far more blessèd than base life of slaves.
[Exeunt.
[136]A correspondent ofNotes and Queries(1stser., vol. ix. p.513) points out that Erasmus has the same simile:—“Anima quæ moderatur utrumque corpus animantis improprie dicitur anima cum revera sint animæ reliquiæ, non aliter quam odor rosarum manet in manu etiam rosa sublata.”—Colloq., Leydened.,i.694.[137]Olded.“Holds.”[138]These ravings are unintelligible.[139]The stage-direction in the oldeds.is “Enter Andrugio, Lucio, Cole, and Norwood.” I suppose that Cole and Norwood are the names of the actors who personated Andrugio and Lucio.[140]“Give me assay” = taste it before I drink. Theassayerin courts and baronial halls was the officer who tasted the dishes before the banquet in order to make sure that no poison was concealed.[141]Oldeds.“made openthe glibbery ice,” which modern editors absurdly retain. The word “glibbery” has been already noticed (note 3,p.22).[142]Cf.Julius Cæsar,i.2 (text of First Folio):—“And then he offered it the third time; hee put it the third time by, and still as hee refus’d it the rabblementhowtedand clapp’d their chopt hands.” In that passage the first three folios givehowtedand the fourthhouted; but modern editors reject the word and read eitherhootedorshouted. The present passage of Marston affords strong warrant for restoring the reading of the folios.Houtis clearly an onomatopœic word, likehoit:—He sings andhoitsand revels among his drunken companions,” (Knight of the Burning Pestle).[143]Oldeds.“last” (and so modern editors).[144]Oldeds.“misereri.”[145]Antonio is concealed behind a bush.[146]Soed.1633.—Ed.1602 “on.”[147]Oldeds.“suamisce. “—Dilke reads “smarisce.”[148]Oldeds.“Murono.”[149]Oldeds.“pol.”[150]So Dilke. Oldeds.“Bassiammi.”[151]Oldeds.“Che in sua neggia in quello,”&c.[152]Oldeds.repeat the word “kissing.”[153]“In good sadness” = seriously.[154]“Tweer” (or “twire”) = peep, pry.[155]“The ‘Dun Cow’ is, we all know, intimately connected with the celebrated Guy, Earl of Warwick, and I believe his ‘kettle’ is one of the pretended relics still shown there. From the text I conjecture that the dun cow with the kettle on her head was in the time of Marston a well-known sign.”—Dilke.[156]Omitted ined.1602.[157]Oldeds.“Ant.”[158]Oldeds.“And.”[159]It is hard for Andrugio to escape detection even when he is unarmed; but if he puts on his armour he will be at once recognised.Cf.p.46:—“If you are but seen,Your arms display you; therefore put them off.”
[136]A correspondent ofNotes and Queries(1stser., vol. ix. p.513) points out that Erasmus has the same simile:—“Anima quæ moderatur utrumque corpus animantis improprie dicitur anima cum revera sint animæ reliquiæ, non aliter quam odor rosarum manet in manu etiam rosa sublata.”—Colloq., Leydened.,i.694.
[137]Olded.“Holds.”
[138]These ravings are unintelligible.
[139]The stage-direction in the oldeds.is “Enter Andrugio, Lucio, Cole, and Norwood.” I suppose that Cole and Norwood are the names of the actors who personated Andrugio and Lucio.
[140]“Give me assay” = taste it before I drink. Theassayerin courts and baronial halls was the officer who tasted the dishes before the banquet in order to make sure that no poison was concealed.
[141]Oldeds.“made openthe glibbery ice,” which modern editors absurdly retain. The word “glibbery” has been already noticed (note 3,p.22).
[142]Cf.Julius Cæsar,i.2 (text of First Folio):—“And then he offered it the third time; hee put it the third time by, and still as hee refus’d it the rabblementhowtedand clapp’d their chopt hands.” In that passage the first three folios givehowtedand the fourthhouted; but modern editors reject the word and read eitherhootedorshouted. The present passage of Marston affords strong warrant for restoring the reading of the folios.Houtis clearly an onomatopœic word, likehoit:—He sings andhoitsand revels among his drunken companions,” (Knight of the Burning Pestle).
[143]Oldeds.“last” (and so modern editors).
[144]Oldeds.“misereri.”
[145]Antonio is concealed behind a bush.
[146]Soed.1633.—Ed.1602 “on.”
[147]Oldeds.“suamisce. “—Dilke reads “smarisce.”
[148]Oldeds.“Murono.”
[149]Oldeds.“pol.”
[150]So Dilke. Oldeds.“Bassiammi.”
[151]Oldeds.“Che in sua neggia in quello,”&c.
[152]Oldeds.repeat the word “kissing.”
[153]“In good sadness” = seriously.
[154]“Tweer” (or “twire”) = peep, pry.
[155]“The ‘Dun Cow’ is, we all know, intimately connected with the celebrated Guy, Earl of Warwick, and I believe his ‘kettle’ is one of the pretended relics still shown there. From the text I conjecture that the dun cow with the kettle on her head was in the time of Marston a well-known sign.”—Dilke.
[156]Omitted ined.1602.
[157]Oldeds.“Ant.”
[158]Oldeds.“And.”
[159]It is hard for Andrugio to escape detection even when he is unarmed; but if he puts on his armour he will be at once recognised.Cf.p.46:—
“If you are but seen,Your arms display you; therefore put them off.”
SCENEI.
Palace of the Duke of Venice.
EnterBalurdo,aPainterwith two pictures,andDildo.
Bal.And are you a painter? sir, can you draw, can you draw?
Pa.Yes, sir.
Bal.Indeed, law! now so can my father’s forehorse. And are these the workmanship of your hands?
Pa.I did limn them.
Bal.Limn them? a good word, limn them: whose picture is this?Anno Domini, 1599. Believe me, master Anno Domini was of a good settled age when you limn’d him: 1599 years old! Let’s see the other.Ætatis suæ24. Byrlady, he is somewhat younger. Belike masterÆtatis suæwasAnno Domini’sson.12
Pa.Is not your master a——
Dil.He hath a little proclivity to him.
Pa.Proclivity, good youth? I thank you for your courtly proclivity.
Bal.Approach, good sir. I did send for you to draw me a device, an Imprezza, bySynecdoche a Mott. ByPhœbus’ crimson taffeta mantle, I think I speak as melodiously,—look you, sir, how think you on’t? I would have you paint me, for my device, a good fat leg of ewe mutton, swimming in stewed broth of plums (boy, keel[160]your mouth, it runs over) and the word[161]shall be,Hold my dish, whilst I spill my pottage. Sure, in my conscience, ’twould be the most sweet device, now.25
Pa.’Twould scent of kitchen-stuff too much.
Bal.God’s neaks, now I remember me, I ha’ the rarest device in my head that ever breathed. Can you paint me a driveling reeling song, and let the word be, Uh.30
Pa.A belch?
Bal.O, no no: Uh, paint me Uh, or nothing.
Pa.It cannot be done, sir, but by a seeming kind of drunkenness.
Bal.No? well, let me have a good massy ring, with your own posy graven in it, that must sing a small treble, word for word, thus:
And if you will[162]my true lover be,Come follow me to the green wood.
Pa.O Lord, sir, I cannot make a picture sing.40
Bal.Why? ’slid, I have seen painted things sing as sweet;But I have’t will tickle it for a conceit, i’faith.
EnterFelicheandAlberto.
Alb.O dear Feliche, give me thy device.How shall I purchase love of Rossaline?
Feli.’Swill, flatter her soundly.
Alb.Her love is such, I cannot flatter her:But with my utmost vehemence of speech,I have ador’d her beauties.
Feli.Hast writ good moving unaffected rhymes to her?
Alb.O, yes, Feliche, but she scorns my writ.50
Feli.Hast thou presented her with sumptuous gifts?
Alb.Alas, my fortunes are too weak to offer them.
Feli.O, then I have it, I’ll tell thee what to do.
Alb.What, good Feliche?
Feli.Go and hang thyself; I say, go hang thyself,If that thou canst not give, go hang thyself:I’ll rhyme thee dead, or verse thee to the rope.How think’st thou of a poet that sung thus?Munera sola pacant, sola addunt munera formam:Munere sollicites Pallada, Cypris erit.60Munera, munera!
Alb.I’ll go and breathe my woes unto the rocks,And spend my grief upon the deafest seas.I’ll weep my passion to the senseless trees,And load most solitary air with plaints.For woods, trees, sea, or rocky Apennine,Is not so ruthless as my Rossaline.Farewell, dear friend, expect no more of me:Here ends my part in this love’s comedy.69
[ExeuntAlbertoandPainter.
Feli.Now, master Balurdo, whither are you going, ha?
Bal.Signior Feliche, how do you, faith? and by my troth, how do you?
Feli.Whither art thou going, bully?[163]
Bal.And as heaven help me, how do you?How, do you, i’faith, hee?
Feli.Whither art going, man?
Bal.O God, to the court; I’ll be willing to give you grace and good countenance, if I may but see you in the presence.
Feli.O, to court? farewell.80
Bal.If you see one in a yellow taffeta doublet, cut upon carnation velure,[164]a green hat, a blue pair of velvet hose, a gilt rapier, and an orange-tawny pair of worsted silk stockings, that’s I, that’s I.
Feli.Very good: farewell.
Bal.Ho, you shall know me as easily; I ha’ bought me a new green feather with a red sprig; you shall see my wrought[165]shirt hang out at my breeches; you shall know me.89
Feli.Very good, very good, farewell.
Bal.Marry, in the mask ’twill be somewhat hard. But if you hear anybody speak so wittily, that he makes all the room laugh; that’s I, that’s I. Farewell, good Signior.
EnterForobosco,Castilio,a Boy carrying a gilt harp;Piero,Mellida,in night apparel;Rossaline,Flavia,two Pages.
Pier.Advance the music’s prize; now, cap’ring wits,Rise to your highest mount; let choice delightGarland the brow of this triumphant night.’Sfoot, ’a sits like Lucifer himself.
Ros.Good sweet Duke,First let their voices strain for music’s prize.[166]Give me the golden harp:100Faith, with your favour, I’ll be umperess.
Pier.Sweet niece, content: boys, clear your voice and sing.
First[167]Boy sings.
Ros.By this gold, I had rather have a servant with a short nose, and a thin hair, than have such a high-stretch’d minikin[168]voice.
Pier.Fair niece, your reason?
Ros.By the sweet of love, I should fear extremely that he were an eunuch.
Cast.Spark spirit, how like you his voice?
Ros.Spark spirit, how like you his voice!110So help me, youth, thy voice squeaks like a dry corkshoe:[169]come, come; let’s hear the next.
Second Boy sings.
Pier.Trust me, a strong mean. Well sung, my boy.
EnterBalrudo.
Bal.Hold, hold, hold: are ye blind? could ye not see my voice coming for the harp? And I knock not division[170]on the head, take hence the harp, make me a slip,[171]and let me go but for ninepence. Sir Mark, strike up for master Balurdo.
Third Boy sings.
Judgment, gentlemen, judgment! Was’t not above line?I appeal to your mouths that heard my song.120Do[172]me right, and dub me knight, Balurdo.
Ros.Kneel down, and I’ll dub thee knight of the golden harp.
Bal.Indeed, law, do, and I’ll make you lady of the silver fiddlestick.
Ros.Come, kneel, kneel.
Enter a Page toBalurdo.
Bal.My troth, I thank you, it hath never a whistle in’t.
Ros.Nay, good sweet coz, raise up your drooping eyes; and I were at the point ofTo have and to hold from this day forward, I would be asham’d to look thus lumpish. What, my pretty coz, ’tis but the loss of an odd maidenhead.133Shall’s dance? thou art so sad, hark in thine[173]ear:I was about to say, but I’ll forbear.
Bal.I come, I come; more than most honeysuckle sweet ladies, pine not for my presence, I’ll return in pomp. Well spoke, Sir Jeffrey Balurdo. As I am a true knight, I feel honourable eloquence begin to grope me already.140
[Exit.
Pier.Faith, mad niece, I wonder when thou wilt marry?
Ros.Faith, kind uncle, when men abandon jealousy, forsake taking of tobacco, and cease to wear their beards so rudely long. O, to have a husband with a mouth continually smoking, with a bush of furze on the ridgeof his chin, ready still to flop into his foaming chaps; ah, ’tis more than most intolerable.
Pier.Nay faith, sweet niece, I was mighty strong in thought we should have shut up night with an old comedy: the Prince of Florence[174]shall have Mellida, and thou should’st have——.152
Ros.Nobody, good sweet uncle. I tell you, sir, I have thirty-nine servants, and my monkey that makes the fortieth. Now I love all of them lightly for something, but affect none of them seriously for anything. One’s a passionate fool, and he flatters me above belief; the second’s a testy ape, and he rails at me beyond reason; the third’s as grave as some censor, and he strokes up his mustachios three times, and makes six plots of set faces, before he speaks one wise word; the fourth’s as dry as the bur of an hartichoke; the fifth paints, and hath always a good colour for what he speaks; the sixth——.164
Pier.Stay, stay, sweet niece, what makes you thus suspect your gallants’ worth?
Ros.O, when I see one wear a periwig, I dread his hair; another wallow in a great slop,[175]I mistrust the proportion of his thigh; and wears a ruffled boot,[176]I fear the fashion of his leg. Thus, something in each thing, onetrick in everything makes me mistrust imperfection in all parts; and there’s the full point of my addiction.172
The cornets sound a senet.EnterGaleatzo,Matzagente,andBalurdoin maskery.
Pier.The room’s too scant: boys, stand in there, close.
Mel.[ToGaleatzo.] In faith, fair sir, I am too sad to dance.
Pier.How’s that, how’s that? too sad? By heaven, dance,And grace him too, or go to——, I say no more.
Mel.A burning glass, the word[177]splendente Phœbo?It is too curious, I conceit it not.
Gal.Faith, I’ll tell thee. I’ll no longer burn,Than you will shine and smile upon my love.180For look ye, fairest, by your pure sweets,I do not dote upon your excellence;And faith, unless you shed your brightest beamsOf sunny favour and acceptive graceUpon my tender love, I do not burn:Marry, but shine, and I’ll reflect your beams
With fervent ardour. Faith! I would be loath to flatter thee, fair soul, because I love, not dote, court like thy husband, which thy father swears to-morrow morn I must be. This is all; and now from henceforth, trust me, Mellida, I’ll not speak one wise word to thee more.
Mel.I trust ye.192
Gal.By my troth, I’ll speak pure fool[178]to thee now.
Mel.You will speak the liker yourself.
Gal.Good faith, I’ll accept of the coxcomb, so you will not refuse the bable.[179]
Mel.Nay, good sweet, keep them both; I am enamoured of neither.
Gal.Go to, I must take you down for this. Lend me your ear.200
Ros.A glow-worm? the word,—Splendescit tantùm tenebris.
Mat.O, lady, the glow-worm figurates my valour, which shineth brightest in most dark, dismal, and horrid achievements.
Ros.Or rather, your glow-worm represents your wit, which only seems to have fire in it, though indeed ’tis but anignis fatuus, and shines only in the dark dead night of fools’ admiration.
Mat.Lady, my wit hath spurs, if it were dispos’d to ride you.211
Ros.Faith, sir, your wit’s spurs have but walking rowels; dull, blunt, they will not draw blood: the gentlemen-ushers may admit them the presence, for any wrong they can do to ladies.
Bal.Truly, I have strained a note above ela[180]for a device: look you, ’tis a fair-ruled singing book; the word,Perfect, if it were prick’d.
Fla.Though you are mask’d, I can guess who you are by your wit. You are not the exquisite Balurdo, the most rarely-shaped Balurdo.221
Bal.Who, I? No, I am not Sir Jeffrey Balurdo. I am not as well known by my wit as an alehouse by a red lattice.[181]I am not worthy to love and be beloved of Flavia.
Fla.I will not scorn to favour such good parts As are applauded in your rarest self.227
Bal.Truly, you speak wisely, and like a jantlewoman of fourteen years of age. You know the stone calledlapis; the nearer it comes to the fire, the hotter it is: and the bird, which the geometricians callavis, the farther it is from the earth, the nearer it is to the heaven; and love, the nigher it is to the flame, the more remote (there’s a word, remote!) the more remote it is from the frost. Your wit is quick; a little thing pleaseth a young lady, and a small favour contenteth an old courtier; and so, sweet mistress, I truss my codpiece point.238
EnterFeliche.
Pier.What might import this flourish? Bring us word.
Feli.Stand away: here’s such a company of flyboats,[182]hulling[183]about this galleasse[184]of greatness, that there’s no boarding him.
Do you hear, yon thing call’d duke?
Pier.How now, blunt Feliche; what’s the news?
Feli.Yonder’s a knight, hath brought Andrugio’s head,And craves admittance to your chair of state.
Cornets sound a senet. EnterAndrugioin armour.
Pier.Conduct him with attendance sumptuous;Sound all the pleasing instruments of joy;Make triumph stand on tiptoe whilst we meet:O sight most gracious, O revenge most sweet!250
And.We vow, by the honour of our birth, to recompense any man that bringeth Andrugio’s head, with twenty thousand double pistolets, and the endearing to our choicest love.
Pier.We still with most unmoved resolve[185]confirmOur large munificence, and here breatheA sad and solemn protestation:When I recall this vow, O, let our houseBe even commanded, stain’d, and trampled on,As worthless rubbish of nobility.260
And.Then here [raising his beaver], Piero, is Andrugio’s head,Royally casquèd in a helm of steel:Give me thy love, and take it. My dauntless soulHath that unbounded vigour in his spiritsThat it can bear more rank indignity,With less impatience than thy canker’d hateCan sting and venom his untainted worthWith the most vip’rous sound of malice. Strike!O, let no glimpse of honour light thy thoughts;If there be any heat of royal breath270Creeping in thy veins, O stifle it;Be still thyself, bloody and treacherous.Fame not thy house with an admirèd actOf princely pity. Piero, I am comeTo soil thy house with an eternal blotOf savage cruelty; strike, or bid me strike.I pray my death; that thy ne’er-dying shameMight live immortal to posterity.Come, be a princely hangman, stop my breath.O dread thou shame, no more than I dread death.280
Pier.We are amazed, our royal spirit’s numb’dIn stiff astonish’d wonder at thy prowess.Most mighty, valiant, and high-tow’ring heart,We blush, and turn our hate upon ourselves,For hating such an unpeer’d excellence.I joy my state: him whom I loath’d before,That now I honour, love, nay more, adore.
[The still flutes sound a mournful senet. Enter a funeral procession, followed byLucio.
But stay; what tragic spectacle appears!Whose body bear you in that mournful hearse?
Lu.The breathless trunk of young Antonio.290
Mel.Antonio! ay me! my lord, my love! my——.
And.Sweet precious issue of most honour’d blood,Rich hope, ripe virtue, O untimely loss!Come hither, friend: prithee, do not weep.Why, I am glad he’s dead; he shall not seeHis father’s vanquish’d by his enemy,Even in princely honour. Nay, prithee, speak!How died the wretched boy?
Lu.My lord!
And.I hope he died yet like my son, i’faith.300
Lu.Alas, my lord!
And.He died unforced, I trust, and valiantly?
Lu.Poor gentleman, being——
And.Did his hand shake, or his eye look dull,His thoughts reel fearful when he struck the stroke?And if they did, I’ll rend them out the hearse,Rip up his cerecloth, mangle his bleak face,That when he comes to heaven, the powers divine,Shall ne’er take notice that he was my son:I’ll quite disclaim his birth. Nay, prithee, speak!310And ’twere not hooped with steel, my breast would break.
Mel.O that my spirit in a sigh could mountInto the sphere where thy sweet soul doth rest!
Pier.O that my tears, bedewing thy wan cheek,Could make new spirit sprout in thy cold blood!
Bal.Verily, he looks as pitifully as a poor John;[186]as I am true knight, I could weep like a ston’d horse.
And.Villain, ’tis thou hast murderèd my son!Thy unrelenting spirit, thou black dog,320That took’st no passion[187]of his fatal love,Hath forced him give his life untimely end.
Pier.O! that my life, her love, my dearest blood,Would but redeem one minute of his breath!
Ant.[rising.] I seize that breath. Stand not amazed, great states;I rise from death that never lived till now.Piero, keep thy vow, and I enjoyMore unexpressèd height of happinessThan power of thought can reach; if not, lo, hereThere stands my tomb, and here a pleasing stage.330Most-wish’d spectators of my tragedy,To this end have I feign’d, that her fair eye,For whom I lived, might bless me ere I die.
Mel.Can breath depaint[188]my unconceivèd thoughts?Can words describe my infinite delightOf seeing thee, my lord Antonio?O no; conceit, breath, passion, words, be dumb,Whilst I instill the dew of my sweet bliss,In the soft pressure of a melting kiss!Sic, sic juvat ire sub umbras.340
Pier.Fair son (now I’ll be proud to call thee son),Enjoy me thus: my very breast is thine;Possess me freely, I am wholly thine.
Ant.Dear father——
And.Sweet son, sweet son, I can speak no more:My joy’s passion flows above the shore,And chokes the current of my speech.
Pier.Young Florence prince, to you my lips must begFor a remittance of your interest.
Gal.In your fair daughter? with all my thought.350So help me faith, the nak’d truth I’ll unfold;He that was never[189]hot will soon be cold.
Pier.No man else makes claim unto her?
Mat.The valiant speak truth in brief: no—
Bal.Truly, for Sir Jeffrey Balurdo, he disclaims to have had anything in her.
Pier.Then here I give her to Antonio.Royal, valiant, most respected prince,Let’s clip our hands, I’ll thus observe my vow:I promised twenty thousand double pistolets,360With the endearing to my dearest love,To him that brought thy head; thine be the gold,To solemnise our houses’ unity;My love be thine, the all I have, be thine.Fill us fresh wine, the form we’ll take by this;We’ll drink a health, while they two sip a kiss.[190]Now there remains no discord that can soundHarsh accents to the ear of our accord:So please you,[191]niece, to match.369
Ros.Troth, uncle, when my sweet-faced coz hath told me how she likes the thing called wedlock, may be I’ll take a survey of the checkroll of my servants; and he that hath the best parts of—I’ll prick him down for my husband.
Bal.For passion of love now, remember me to my mistress, lady Rossaline, when she is pricking down the good parts of her servants. As I am true knight, I grow stiff; I shall carry it.
Pier.I will.Sound Lydian wires, once make a pleasing note380On nectar streams of your sweet airs to float.
Ant.Here ends the comic crosses of true love;O! may the passage most successful prove!