MERMAID THE "BEST THE OLD SERIES. - CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. HAVELOCK EL UNEXPURG^TED EDITION. THE SERIES EDITED BY HAVELOCK ELLIS. Iss. THE BEST PLAYS OF THE OLD DRAMATISTS. CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. In Half-Crown Monthly Volumes uniform with the present Work. THE MERMAID SERIES. IHE BEST PLAYS OF THE OLD DRAMATISTS. Th -following will be among the earlier Volumes of the Series : MARLOWE. Edited by HAVELOCK ELLIS. With a General Introduction by J. A. SYMONDS. MASSINGER. Edited by ARTHUR SYMONS. MIDDLETON. With an Introduction by A. C. SWINBURNE, BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER (2 vols.). Edited by J. ST. LOK STRACHEY. DEKKER. Edited by ERNEST RHYS. WEBSTER & CYRIL TOURNEUR. EditedbyJ. A. SYMONDS. SHIRLEY. Edited by EDMUND GOSSE. OTWAY. Edited by the Hon. RODEN NOEL. FORD. Edited by HAVELOCK ELLIS. THOMAS HEYWOOD. Edited by J. A. SYMONDS. /; 1) \tV17p .AIJ.KY'X From the picture at Dulwich College THE BEST PLAYS OF THE OLD DRAMATISTS. CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE EDITED BY HAVELOCK ELLIS. WITH A GENERAL INTRODUCTION ON THE ENGLISH DRAMA DURING THE REIGNS OF ELIZABETH AND JAMES I. BY J. A. SYMONDS. I lie and dream of your full MERMAID wine." Beaumont. UNEXPURGATtD EDITION. LONDON : V1ZETELLY& CO., 42, CATHERINE ST., STXAND. " What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid ! heard words that have been So nimble, and so full of subtle flame, As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life." Master Francis Beaumont to Ben Jonson. " Souls of Poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern ? '' Keats. LONDON : BRADBURY, AONEW, & CO., I'KINTERS, WHITEFRIARS. CONTENTS. GENERAL INTRODUCTION CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE .... TAMBURI.AINE THE GREAT ,, PART THE FIRST . ,, PART THE SECOND . THE TRAGICAL HISTORY OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS THE JEW OF MALTA EDWARD THE SECOND APPENDIX PAGE vii 169 229 321 423 GENERAL INTRODUCTION. ON THE DRAMA OF ELIZABETH AND JAMES CONSIDERED AS THE MAIN PRODUCT OF THE RENAISSANCE IN ENGLAND. O much has been written about the origins of the Drama in England, that it will suffice to touch but briefly on this topic. The English, like other Euro- pean nations, composed and acted Miracle Plays upon the events of sacred history and the main doctrines of the Church. Embracing the whole drama of humanity, from the Creation of the World to the Last Judg- ment, these Miracles, of which we possess several well-preserved specimens, might rather be regarded as immense epics scenically presented to an audience, than as plays with a plot and action. Yet cer- tain episodes in the lengthy cycle, such for example as the Entrance of Noah into the Ark, the Sacrifice of Isaac, Nativity of our Lord, the story of the Woman taken viii GENERAL INTRODUCTION. in Adultery, and the Repentance of Magdalen, detached themselves from the main scheme, and became the subjects of free dramatic handling. In this way the English people were familiarized at an early period with tragedy and comedy in the rough, while preparation was made for the emergence of the secular Drama as a specific form of art. Before this happened, however, a second stage had to be accomplished. Between the Miracle Play and the Drama intervened the Morality and the Interlude. The former was a peculiar species of representation, in which abstract conceptions and the personages of allegory were introduced in action under the forms of men and women. The tone of such pieces remained purely didactic, and their machinery was clumsy ; yet their authors found it impossible to deal dramatically with Youth and Pleasure, Sin, Grace, and Repentance, the Devil and Death, without developing dialogue, marking character, and painting the incidents of real life. Thus the Morality led to the Interlude, which completed the disengagement of the drama from religious aims, and brought various types of human nature on the stage. The most remark- able specimen of this kind now extant may be mentioned. It is the elder Heywood's Three P's, in which a Pardoner, a Pedlar, and a Palmer, three characteristic figures among contemporary vagrants and impostors, are vividly delineated. From the Interlude to Farce and Comedy there was but a GENERAL INTRODUCTION. ix short step to take ; and in England the earliest plays, properly so-called, were of a humorous des- cription. At the same time, tragedy began to form itself out of serious pieces detached in detail from the Miracle Plays. Godly Queen Esther, King Darius, The Conversion of St. Paid, and so forth, smoothed the way for secular dramas upon subjects chosen from history and legend. The process of dramatic evolution which I have briefly sketched, had reached this point before the new learning of the Italian Renaissance penetrated English society. The people were accustomed to scenic representations, and had traced the outlines of what was afterwards to become the Romantic or Shakespearian drama. At this point the attention of cultivated people was directed to the Latin and Italian theatre. Essayists like Sir Philip Sidney, poets like Lord Buckhurst and Thomas Norton, tried by their precepts and their practice to introduce the classical style of dramatic composition into England. They severely criticized the rhymed plays in which the populace delighted, the involved tales roughly versified for declamation by actors in the yards of inns, and the incongruous blending of rude farce with pathetic or passionate incident. It seemed for a time as though these " courtly makers " might divert the English Drama from its spontaneously chosen path into the precise and formal channels of pedantic imitation. The aris- tocracy and learned coteries delighted in tragedies x GENERAL INTRODUCTION. like GorboduC) or The Misfortunes of Artliur, which followed the model of Seneca, and competed with famous Italian masterpieces. But neither the nobility nor the universities were destined to control the theatre in England. That had already become a possession of the people ; and the people remained true to the traditions of their native though un- cultivated type of art. What men like Sidney, Sackville, Norton and Hughes, effected, was in the main a certain heightening of the sense of dramatic dignity. They forced playwrights to regard princi- ples of composition, propriety of diction, and har- mony of parts, to some extent at least, in the construction of both tragedies and comedies. Furthermore, they indicated blank verse, or the unrhymed decasyllabic iambic, as the proper metre for the stage. Meanwhile our drama continued to advance upon the romantic as opposed to the classical type of art ; and since the phrase romantic is one of great importance, I must pause to explain in what sense I use it. Three personages in one of the earlier comedies preserved to us are introduced discussing the English theatre. One of these observes that though plays are represented every day in Lon- don, they are " neither right comedies nor right tragedies," but " representations of histories without any decorum." The phrase, although contemp- tuous, was accurate ; for the Romantic Drama observed no rules and cared for no scholastic GENERAL INTRODUCTION. xi precedents. It only aimed at presenting a tale or history in scenes ; and the most accurate definition of the plays which it produced is that they were stories told in dialogue by actors on the stage. Nothing that had the shape and interest of a story came amiss to the romantic playwright ; and his manner did not greatly differ in the treatment of pure farce, pathetic episode, or chronicle of past events. Thus there sprang up several species of dramatic composition in England, marked by a common artistic handling. These may be briefly enumerated as chronicle plays on English history, biographical plays on the lives of English worthies, tragedies borrowed from Roman history and Italian novels, tragedies based on domestic crimes of recent occurrence, comedies imitated from Latin and modern European literature, broad realistic farces, fanciful pieces partaking of the nature of the Masque or Ballet, pastorals of the Arcadian type, and classical mythologies. The one point, as I have already remarked, which the playwright kept steadily in view, was to sustain the interest of his audience, and to excite their curiosity by a succes- sion of entertaining incidents. He did not mind mixing tragedy with comedy or kings with peasants, and set at naught the so-called unities of classical tradition. His paramount object was to feel and make his audience feel the reality of life exceedingly, and to evoke living men and women from the miscellaneous mass of fables which lay xii GENERAL INTRODUCTION. open to him in classical, medieval, and modern literature. Some spirited lines of the younger Heywood may here be quoted, as aptly describing the vast tracts over which the dramatists in their first ardour ranged in search of subjects : " To give content to this most curious age, The gods themselves we have brought down to the stage, And figured them in planets ; made even Hell Deliver up the Furies, by no spell, (Saving the Muse's rapture); further, we Have trafficked by their help ; no history We have left unrifled, our pens have been dipped As well in opening each hid manuscript. As tracts more vulgar, whether read or sung In our domestic or more foreign tongue ; Of fairy elves, nymphs of the sea and land, The lawns and groves, no number can be scanned Which we have not given feet to, nay, 'tis known That when our chronicles have barren grown Of story, we have all invention stretched, Dived low as to the centre, and then reached Unto &&primum mobile above, (Nor 'scaped things intermediate) for your love ; These have been acted often, all have passed Censure, of which some live, and some are cast." A group of cultivated men, chiefly members of the Universities, began soon after 1580 to give something like the form of high art to our romantic drama. These were Richard Edwards, George Whetstone, John Lyly, Robert Greene, George Peele, Thomas Lodge, and Thomas Nash. It is not my business to characterize their works in detail, since they will probably be made the subjects of special treatment in this series. Their chief GENERAL INTRODUCTION. xiii importance, however, may be indicated. This con- sists in their having contributed to the formation of Marlowe's dramatic style. It was he who irrevo- cably decided the destinies of the romantic drama ; and the whole subsequent evolution of that species, including Shakespeare's work, can be regarded as the expansion, rectification and artistic .ennoblement of the type fixed by Marlowe's epoch-making tragedies. In very little more than fifty years from the publication of Tamburlaine, our drama had run its course of unparalleled energy and splendour. Expanding like a many-petalled flower of marvel- lous complexity and varied colours, it developed to the utmost every form of which the romantic species is capable, and left to Europe a mass of work invariably vivid, though extremely unequal, over which of course the genius of Shakespeare rules supreme. He stands alone, and has no second ; but without the multifarious excellences of Jonson, Webster, Heywood, Beaumont, Fletcher, Ford, Massinger, and a score whom it would be tedious to enumerate, the student would have to regard Shakespeare as an inexplicable prodigy, instead of as the central sun of a luminous sidereal system. In the short space of this prefatory essay, I can- not attempt to sketch the history of the drama, or to criticize the various schools of style which were formed in the course of its passage from maturity to decadence. It must be enough for me to indi- cate in what way the genius of the English nation xiv GENERAL INTRODUCTION. expressed itself through this form of art at the epoch when the Reformation had been accomplished, the attacks of Spain repulsed, and the new learning of the Renaissance assimilated. England, alone of European nations, received the influences of both Renaissance and Reformation simultaneously. These two great movements of the modern intellect, which closed the Middle Ages, and opened a new period of mental culture for the Western nations, have to be regarded as distinct because their issues were different, and they were severally accomplished by Latin and Teutonic races. Yet both Renaissance and Reformation had a common starting-point in humanism ; both needed the revival of learning for their motive force ; both effected a liberation of the spirit from authority, superstition and decadent ideals. In the one case this liberation of the modern spirit expressed itself through new conceptions of social culture, new theories of the state, new systems of education, new arts, new sciences, and new philosophies. It was the emancipation of the reason ; and we call it Renaissance. In the other case it assumed a more religious and political aspect, issuing in the revival of pure Christianity, revolt against the Papacy as a dominant force, and assertion of national inde- pendence. It was the emancipation of the con- science ; and we call it Reformation. No sooner had these two movements been defined, than they entered on a phase of mutual hostility ; not indeed GENERAL INTRODUCTION. xv because they were essentially antagonistic, or because they could not show a common origin, but because they expressed the tendencies of broadly differing races, and had in view divergent ideals. The Italians, to whom we owe the Renaissance, were careless about ecclesiastical reform, and sceptical as to the restoration of Christianity from its primitive sources. The Germans, who started the Reformation, were so preoccupied with things of deeper moment, that they sacrificed the culture of the Renaissance. Then Reformation generated Counter-Reformation. The Catholic reaction, led by Rome and championed by Spain, set in. Europe was involved in a series of religious wars, which impeded the tran- quil evolution of the intellect on either line. So much had to be prefaced in order to explain the mental position of England. Some time before the Catholic Powers assumed their attitude of panic-stricken and belligerent re- action, Henry VIII. committed the nation to Pro- testantism ; and at the same time the new learning began to penetrate society. The English people cast off obedience to Rome in doctrine, and as- sumed Italian humanism, simultaneously. The Reformation had been adopted by the consent of King, Lords and Commons ; and this change in the state-religion, though it was not confirmed without reaction, agitation, and bloodshed, cost the nation comparatively little disturbance. The new learning, xvi GENERAL INTRODUCTION. derived from the revival of antiquity, had already permeated Italian and French literature. Classical erudition had been adapted to the needs of modern thought ; the chief Greek and Latin authors had been translated into modern languages ; the masterpieces of antiquity were interpreted and made intelligible. English scholars, trained upon the new method by private tutors or in the now regenerated public schools, began at once to trans- late the poets and historians of antiquity and of Italy into the vernacular. French books were widely read ; the best authors of Spain were assi- milated ; and Germany supplied her legendary stores and grotesque satires to the growing culture of our race. Meanwhile the authorized version of the Bible, which had recently been given to the public, proved the dignity and flexibility ef the mother- tongue, and supplied the laity at once with the ori- ginal sources of sacred erudition. Before the date of Marlowe these vast collections had been made, and we were in possession of all the materials for build- ing up a mighty edifice of literary art. Little at this period had been accomplished in pure poetry. It is true that Wyat, Surrey and Sidney had accli- matized the sonnet ; that blank verse had been introduced ; and that Spenser was just giving his noble epic to the world. But the people in its youth- ful vigour under Tudor Sovereigns, conscious of a great deliverance from Rome, and of a bracing struggle with reactionary powers in Europe, needed GENERAL INTRODUCTION. xvii some wider, some more comprehensive sphere for the display of its native genius ; and this it found in the romantic drama, to which, notwithstanding the efforts of students and polite persons, it adhered with the pertinacity of instinct. This drama, its own original creation, stood to the English nation in the place of all the other arts. It became for us the embodiment of that Renaissance which had given sculpture, painting, architecture and a gorgeous undergrowth of highly-coloured poetry to the Italians. England, sharing the impulse com- municated to thought by southern Renaissance and northern Reformation, needed no gesthetical outlet but the drama, and had to expend her forces upon no distracting struggles of religion. Just as the Romantic Drama was a home- product of the English people, so the method of presenting plays in London, and the material conditions of the stage, were eminently homely. It had been customary during the Middle Ages to exhibit Miracles upon wooden platforms or move- able waggons, which were set up in the market- places of towns, or on the turfed enclosures of abbatial buildings. Moralities and Interludes were shown publicly during civic entertainments, or privately at the request of companies assembled in some noble dwelling ; a portion of the hall being devoted for the nonce to wandering actors, The interesting history- play of Sir Thomas More gives a lively picture of the way in M;ir. /> xviii GENERAL INTRODUCTION. which the Moral Interlude was exhibited before a select audience of the Chancellor's family. Mean- while, when secular dramas, intended for the delectation of the people at large, began to emerge from the Moralities, it became customary to use the yards of inns, bear-gardens, and such places for their performance. This led by gradual degrees to the establishment of regular theatres, which, though they were violently opposed by the muni- cipal authorities, and inveighed against from the pulpit, contrived to root themselves in the suburbs, along the further bank of the Thames, and in the fields toward Shoreditch. Even the best London theatres between the years 1580 and 1630 were simple wooden buildings, round or hexagonal in shape. The larger stood open to the air ; the smaller were roofed in. The former had the name of public, the latter of private houses. Per- formances took place in the afternoon, usually at three o'clock. Scenery was almost wholly lacking : thus if Thebes or Verona had to be imagined by the audience, a sign-post bore the name of Thebes or Verona upon a tower of lath and plaster. The stage itself projected so far into the pit or yard, as it was called, that the actors were brought close to the spectators beneath and around them. Play- goers who could afford this luxury, were accommo- dated with stools upon the stage ; others might take boxes or rooms, as they were then termed, just above the heads of the groundlings standing GENERAL INTRODUCTION. xix in the circular space of the yard. Prices varied from threepence for entrance only to about two shillings for the most expensive places in the best theatres. No actresses appeared upon the English boards, and all female parts were played by boys. It was also usual for the choristers of St. Paul's or of the Chapel Royal to perform whole dramas. Some of Jonson's colossal Comedies were first given to the public by these " Children ; " and I may remind students of Shakespeare's Hamlet that the companies of adult actors regarded them as formidable competitors. 1 In reading any master- piece of the Elizabethan and Jacobean periods, these facts should never be forgotten. To the simplicity of the theatres, the absence of scenical resources, and the close contact of the players with their audience, we may ascribe many peculiarities of our Romantic Drama notably its disregard of the unities of time and place, and its eloquent appeals by descriptive passages to the imagination. Its marvellous fecundity in second-rate artistic work, hastily produced and readily neglected, may also be referred to similar circumstances. These considerations explain the extraordinary force, variety, and imaginative splendour of the works poured forth with such prolific energy for the humble theatres of London during the fifty years which followed the great date of 1587. It was a golden time, between the perils of the Armada and 1 Hamlet, Act 2, sc. 2. /> t xx GENERAL INTRODUCTION. the convulsions of the Great Rebellion, just long enough to round and complete a monument of art representative of our national life at its most brilliant period. In order to comprehend the English Renaissance, we must not be satisfied with studying only Shakespeare. We must learn to know his predecessors, contemporaries, and suc- cessors ; that multitude of men inferior to him in stature, but of the same lineage ; each of whom in greater or less degree was inspired with the like genius ; each of whom possessed a clairvoyance into human nature and a power of presenting it vividly to the imagination which can be claimed by no similar group of fellow-workers in the history of any literature now known to us. What made the play-wrights of that epoch so great as to deserve the phrase which Dryden found for them " Theirs was the giant race before the flood " was that they lived and wrote in fullest sympathy with the whole people. The public to which they appealed was the English nation, from Elizabeth upon the throne down to the lowest ragamuffin of the streets. In the same wooden theatres met lords and ladies, citizens and prentices, sailors and working-men, pickpockets, country-folk, and captains from the wars. The men who wrote for this mixed audience were hampered by no cum- brous stage-properties, by no crushing gorgeous- ness of scenery, by no academical propriety, by no courtly etiquette, by no interference from agents GENERAL INTRODUCTION. xxi of police or spies of a jealous hierarchy. So long as they preserved decorum in the elementary decencies of morals and religion, their hands were free ; and they had the whole spirit of a vividly alive and warmly interested race to stimulate their genius. It is not to be wondered in these circum- stances that men of min6r talents rose above their mediocrity ; that sturdy giants like Jonson grew to Titans ; or that a Webster and a Fletcher climbed the clouds at times and took their seat among the gods. If we now ask what is the distinctive mark of this Drama, we may answer in two words : spon- taneity and freedom. It has the spontaneity of an art-product indigenous and native to our soil, though all the culture of the Classics and the Renaissance contributed to make it wealthy. It has the freedom of a great race conscious of their adolescent vigour, the freedom of combatants victorious in a struggle only less momentous than that of Hellas against Persia, the freedom of a land bounded upon all sides by the ocean, the freedom of high-spirited men devoted to a mistress who per- sonified for them the power and majesty of Britain- Its freedom is freedom from pedantry, from servility to scholastic rules, from observance of foreign or antiquated models ; freedom from the dread of political or ecclesiastical oppression ; freedom from courtly obsequiousness and class-prejudices. In use of language, moulding of character, copying xxii GENERAL INTRODUCTION. of manners, and treatment of dramatic themes, no less than in the minor technicalities of versification, each writer stamps a recognizable mint-mark on his own work, without regard to precedent or what the lettered world will think of him. Critics who appreciate the niceties and proprieties which can to some extent be secured by Academical super- vision, may complain that the English Drama suffered from this spontaneity and freedom that it would have attained to fairer proportions if the playwrights had aimed more at correctness, and that posterity could have foregone seven-tenths of their performances if the remaining three-tenths had exhibited maturer art and more patient execution. To deny an underlying truth in this criticism, would be idle. We are bound to acknowledge that the fine qualities of spontaneity and freedom, here displayed so liberally, have their corresponding faults of carelessness, incomplete- ness, and indifference to form. The masterpieces of our Romantic Drama, when the majority of Shakespeare's plays have been excepted, are few in number, so few indeed that they will be adequately represented in the " Mermaid Series." Yet it remains true that even the rank jungle of mediocre work surviving from that epoch is permeated with the same life and freshness, the same juvenile audacity, the same frank touch on nature, the same keen insight into human motives and emotions, as those rarer pieces of accomplished art which GENERAL INTRODUCTION. xxiii deserve to be classed with the monuments of Attic tragedy. It is this stupendous mass of plays, evolved upon the same lines and vivified by one national spirit, which makes our Drama unique. The spontaneity and freedom, again, of which I have been speaking, form so conspicuous a note of Elizabethan literature that when the genius of our race and language takes a new direction under conditions favourable to liberty, as may be seen at large in the history of the present century, poets turn their eyes instinctively to the old dramatists, assimilate their audacities, and do not shun their imperfections. We must, therefore, accept the whole crop of the fifty years from 1587 onwards, en masse, and must study each type of it attentively not demanding too many masterpieces from the total aggregate, nor over-valuing each special product, but recog- nizing the fact that here we possess a quite excep- tional set of specimens for the scientific investigation of a vigorous artistic epoch. In spite of time and neglect, in spite of the fire of London, in spite of Warburton's too-celebrated cook, in spite of maimed editions and atrocious printers' errors, in spite lastly of Puritanical animosity, we have still at our disposal documents for building up the English Drama as a whole, which fail us in the records of any other national Drama of equal magnitude. What would not the scholar give if he could inter- pret the superiority of ./Eschylus, Sophocles, xxiv GENERAL INTRODUCTION. Euripides, and Aristophanes, in the same way as he can interpret the superiority of Shakespeare and Jonson, by the light of a long series of supple- mentary tragedies and comedies, expressive of one patriotic impulse, from which the greater no less than the minor dramatists of the age in question derived their productive energy ? Regarding then this total mass of plays as the subject-matter of a single critical enquiry, we find first a stage of preparation leading up from the Moralities, through Lyly, Peele, Greene, Nash, and Lodge, to Marlowe. Marlowe fixes the specific type of the Romantic Drama for England. And here the first chapter in our history of the period may be said to close. Dramatic style is created and defined. A second chapter opens with a new set of playwrights, who represent the prime and accomplishment of English theatrical art. Shake- speare reigns supreme here, employing the highest human genius to give the most perfect form to Marlowe's type. Next him towers the saturnine and humorous Titan, Ben Jonson, who broke a path for himself, and ranged only lesser than the greatest, because he separated his spirit from the dominant spirit of the age. What a crowd of worthy coadjutors gather round them ! The un- named authors of Arden of FeversJiam, and A YorksJdre Tragedy, those grim examples of the poignant realistic manner. Honest Dekker, with his easy-going sensibilities and facile touch on GENERAL INTRODUCTION. xxv human feeling. Ponderous Chapman, smouldering into flame by flashes. Heywood, the master of homely English life, the gentlest of all poets who have swept the chords of passion. Marston, that biting satirist and tense sententious builder of blank verse. As we advance, the crowd thickens ; and a third stage in the evolution of the Drama discloses for us writers who have learned from all their predecessors. Here we meet with Beaumont and Fletcher, inventors of heroical romance, gifted with inexhaustible resources in the rhetoric of tragical and comical situations, abounding in ex- quisite lyrical outpourings of unpremeditated song. Webster rises to Shakespeare's shoulder by his sincerity, nobility, and unerring truth to life in its most thrilling moments. Tourneur, infected by some rankling plague-spot of the soul, approaches him in sombre force ; while Ford, behind them, delves with style of steel on plates of bronze his monumental scenes of spiritual anguish. Massinger, equable student of all literary manners, brings these to a focus in his work of lucid but less pungent craftsmanship. Middleton plays with searching lambent light of talent over the broad dramatic field. Cartwright, Brome, Randolph, Marmion proclaim themselves followers of Jonson in a special kind of comedy. Day invents his own delicate domain of allegorical fancy. Shirley, with more of genial inspiration and a richer vein, follows the same track as Massinger. Sturdy xxvi GENERAL INTRODUCTION. journeymen, like the Rowleys, can be counted almost by the score. And thus we are led onward to a fourth stage this time, one of decadence in which the Crownes and Davenants and Wilsons warn us by their incoherent and exaggerated work- manship, illuminated with occasional sparkles of genuine talent, that every growth of art has its declining no less than its ascending and flourishing periods. Lastly, when we remember that these mutations were accomplished in some fifty years, that every chord in human nature had been touched, that all the resources of our language had been tried, and that the English heroic metre of blank verse had been adapted to the expression of a myriad varying thoughts and feelings, we shall pause astonished by the prodigality of mental vigour in that fruitful epoch. The object of the series to which this inadequate essay forms an introduction, will have been accom- plished, if the English of the Victorian age be induced to study the best pieces of Shakespeare's fellow-workers, and to comprehend how full and how superb a picture they present of the large and noble life of our Elizabethan ancestors. Only in this way can the reading public understand the truth of what I have attempted to establish, namely, that the Drama is the chief artistic utterance of the Renaissance in England, and that in England the Renaissance was permeated with the free pure honest stalwart spirit of the Reformation. Only in GENERAL INTRODUCTION. xxvii this way too will they be able to appreciate the panegyric written of our drama by one of Eng- land's greatest rhetoricians, whose words shall form an apt conclusion to this essay. It is De Quincey who says : " No literature, not excepting even that of Athens, has ever presented such a multiform theatre, such a carnival display, mask and anti- mask, of impassioned life breathing, moving, acting, suffering, laughing : Quicquicl agunt homines : votum, timor, ira, voluptas, Gaudia, discursus all this, but far more truly and more adequately than was or could be effected in that field of composition which the gloomy satirist contem- plated whatsoever in fact our medieval ancestors exhibited in the ' Dance of Death,' drunk with tears and laughter, may here be reviewed, sceni- cally draped, and gorgeously coloured. What other national Drama can pretend to any com- petition with this ? " JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS. CH\ISTOTHE\ ZMAI^LOWE. ARLY in the sixteenth century Erasmus, accompanied by Colet, visited Canterbury, Long after- wards he remembered the cathe- dral and its vast towers that rise into the sky " so as to strike awe even at a distant approach," the sweet music of the bells heard from afar ; the " spacious majesty " of the newly completed nave. Here, fifty years later, was born Christopher, sometime called Kit, Marlowe. 1 Meanwhile the spirit of Erasmus, and still more the ruder spirit of Colet, had heralded a revolu- tionary influx of new life. At the head of the movement was set by Providence, in a mood of Rabelaisian gaiety, the figure of Henry VIII. Like another Tamburlaine, Henry VIII. had carried off the rich treasures of Canterbury, the gold and the 1 Thomas Heywood wrote in 1635 : " Mario, renowned for his rare art and wit, Could ne'er attain beyond the name of Kit." xxx CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. jewels, in six-and-twenty carts. The stream of pilgrims no longer passed along the familiar roads ; nothing remained of the shrine of St. Thomas but the bare stones, much as we see them now, worn away by the adoration of so many ages. All that was long ago ; in those days events came fast, and Elizabethan men had a trick of speaking of the near past as remote and antique. On the 26th day of February, 1564, according to the register of the parish church of St. George the Martyr, "was christened Christofer, thesonne of John Marlowe." 1 We cannot tell the boy's dreams among the Kentish hills and fields, or beneath the jewelled windows of the great church in the city that not only still bore about it the lustre of its former sanctity, but was also the chief halting-place of princes and ambassadors who journeyed from the continent to the court of Elizabeth. Perhaps these things touched the youth little ; his own life was too vivid to be concerned much with the antique sanctities at which Colet had laughed. Nor had he mixed largely with men ; he rarely describes the actual external world of men and women ; he had little of Ben Jonson's precise observation, and nothing of Shakespeare's gentle laughter. But every page he wrote reveals a peculiarly intense full-blooded inner life, the quintessence of youthful desires and youthful dreams. His father, it has 1 Shakespeare was christened exactly two months later. Chapman, Green, Peele, and Lyly were all, probably, born some ten years earlier ; Nash and Chettle about the same time as Marlowe ; Heywood about 1570 ; Ben Jonson in 1573. CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. xxxi now been ascertained, besides being " Clarke of St. Maries," was a shoemaker (Christopher appears to have been the second child and eldest son), and shoemakers have sometimes possessed and left to their children a strangely powerful endowment of idealism. He was educated at the King's School, Canterbury. In March, 1581, he matriculated as Pensioner of Benet College (now Corpus Christi), Cambridge ; not having been elected, it seems, to either of the scholarships recently founded at Benet College for King's School boys. In 1583 he obtained his Bachelor's degree. Six years later, in 1589, Francis Kett, a fellow of Marlowe's college, was burnt at Norwich for heresies in regard to certain articles of the Christian faith, such as the Trinity and Christ's divinity. The youthful Marlowe, with his thirst for emancipation, could not fail to fall under the influence of this audacious Francis Kett. How were the years after 1583 spent? There is no reliable evidence. It was asserted, on the unsupported evidence of a late and often inaccurate authority, that he became an actor. It has bee.n conjectured, 1 as of Chapman, that he trailed a pike in the Low Countries, like Ben Jonson. The Eliza- 1 By Colonel Cunningham, who points out that Marlowe's " familiarity with military terms and his fondness for using them are most remarkable," and that at " his home at Canterbury he was in the very track of the bold spirits who [in 1585] followed Leicester and Sidney to the wars of the Low Countries." It may also be pointed out, however, that Marlowe displays, especially in Tambur- laine, a remarkably extensive (though not always accurate) knowledge of Elizabethan geography. His interest in military affairs and in the geography of the world were both manifest aliens of the spirit of adventure then in the air. xxxii CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. bethan dramatists had the full Renaissance delight in facts and in the grasp of technical detail ; they appear to have been nearly as careful about their "documents" as contemporary French novelists ; the broad and genial realism of men like Ben Jonson and Middleton and Dekker, sprang from actual contact with the life around them, and young Marlowe's bold spirit may, possibly, have been touched by the impulse of adventure which at that time drew Englishmen into all parts of the world. About the year 1588, Tamburlaine was acted. 1 There is no hesitation in this first work. The young "god of undaunted verse," set free " From jigging veins of rhyming mother wits, And such conceits as clownage keeps in pay," is at once a perfect master of his " great and thunder- ing speech." Gorboduc had been written in blank verse twenty-five years before, and there had been other essays in the use of this new medium of expression ; on the whole, however, it had remained cold and artificial and ill-received. It is an immense leap from the tame pedestrian linesof Gorboducto the organised verse, with its large swelling music, of Tamburlaine. It was not till later, however, that Marlowe realised the full power and variety of which blank verse is capable. The strong melody of his early verse is simple and little varied ; the chief variation being a kind of blank verse couplet, generally introduced near the end of a speech, in 1 Alleyn took the part of Tamburlaine. For a brief account of this famous actor, whose name is so intimately associated with Marlowe's works, see Appendix. CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. xxxiii which a tumultuous crescendo is followed by a grave and severely iambic line : "And sooner shall the sun fall from his sphere, Than Tamburlaine be slain or overcome." In its later more developed form, Marlowe's "mighty line" is the chief creation of English literary art ; Shakespeare absorbed it, and gave it out again with its familiar cadences in Romeo and Juliet, and later with many broad and lovely modifications. It has become the life-blood of our literature ; Marlowe's place is at the heart of English poetry, and his pulses still thrill in our verse. He obtained his material for Tamburlaine chiefly from Pedro Mexia's Spanish life of Timur, which was published at Seville in I543> and translated into Italian, French and English. The English translation, known as Fortescue's Foreste, appeared in 1571. Marlowe appears to have supplemented this source by the help of the Vita Magni Tamerlanis of Petrus Perondinus. There is abundant evidence to show the swift and extraordinary popularity of the new play, the work of the first great poet who uses our modern English speech ; for Spenser was archaic even in his own day. The public were intoxicated with the high astounding terms " the swelling bom- bast of a bragging blank verse," as Nash called it of the Scythian conqueror ; not less, perhaps, with the novelty of the play's scenical effects ; and for many years a host of writers, including Shake- speare, laughed at those royal and pampered jades Mar. t xxxiv CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. of Asia that could not draw but twenty miles a day. The new perfection, however grateful to the old, could not help treading on its heels. For us, however, the wonder of Tamburlaine, and of Marlowe's work generally, lies in the vivid and passionate blood, in the intensely imaginative form, with which he has clothed the dry bones of his story. He had no power of creative imagina- tion ; Shakespeare borrows his stories, but he freely turns them to his own ends ; Marlowe nearly always clings to his story, but he makes it alive with his own soaring passion. With the exception of Edivard //., which stands alone, Marlowe's dramas are mostly series of scenes held together by the poetic energy of his own dominating personality. He is his own hero, and the san- guinary Scythian utters the deepest secrets of the artist's heart. " What is beauty ? " he asks him- self. " If all the pens that ever poets held Had fed the feeling of their masters' thoughts, And every sweetness that inspired their hearts, Their minds, and muses on admired themes ; If all the heavenly quintessence they still From their immortal flowers of poesy, Wherein, as in a mirror, we perceive The highest reaches of a human wit ; If these had made one poem's period, And all combined in beauty's worthiness, Yet should there hover in their restless heads One thought, one grace, one wonder, at the least, \Vhich into words no virtue can digest. " Tamburlaine is a divinely strong and eager- hearted poet, and these words are the key to his career. He sees for ever an unattainable loveliness CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. xxxv beckoning him across the world, and how can his ardent blood rest " attemptless, faint and destitute ? " " Our souls, whose faculties can comprehend The wondrous architecture of the world, And measure every wandering planet's course, Still climbing after knowledge infinite, And always moving as the restless spheres. Will us to wear ourselves, and never rest, Until we reach the ripest fruit of all, " the rest is Scythian bathos. Like Shelley, in some prior state of existence he had loved an Antigone, and he cannot stay. But like Keats also he has an intense feeling for the imaginative show and colour of things, of milk-white steeds laden with the heads of slain men, and " Besmeared with blood that makes a dainty show," of naked negroes, of bassoes clothed in crimson silk, of Turkey carpets beneath the chariot wheels, and of a hundred kings or more with " so many crowns of burnished gold." He is intoxicated with the physical splendours of imagination, with the vast and mysterious charm of old-world cities, of Bagdad and Babylon and Samarcand. " ' And ride in triumph through Persepolis ! ' Is it not brave to be a king, Techelles ? Vsumcasane and Theridamas, Is it not passing brave to be a king, ' And ride in triumph through Persepolis ? ' " With this song of radiant joy in the unattain- able, young Kit Marlowe, like another Christopher, sailed to discover countries yet unknown, to attain the " sweet fruition " of his crown. xxxvi CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. Not long after Taniburlaine, appeared the Tragical History of Doctor Faustus. 1 The legend of a man who sells his soul to the Devil seems to have appeared about the sixth century, and to have floated down the Middle Ages in many forms ; in one form it was used by Calderon in El Magico Prodigioso. In the early part of the sixteenth century it became identified with a Doctor Faustus, who practised necromancy, and was the friend of Paracelsus and Cornelius Agrippa. Conrad Muth the Humanist came across a magician at Erfurt called Georgius Faustus Hemitheus of Heidel- berg. Trithemius, in 1506, found a Faustus junior who boasted that if all the works of Plato and Aristotle were burnt he could restore them from memory. Melanchthon knew a Johannes Faustus born at Knutlingen, in Wurtemberg, not far from his own home, who studied magic 2 at 1 The exact date is very doubtful. Mr. Bullen, in his generally admirable edition of Marlowe, thinks that the " Ballad of the life and death of Doctor Faustus the great Cungerer," licensed to be printed in Feb. 1589 (and supposed to be identical with the Roxburghe ballad with this title), was probably founded on the play. The ballad tells us that Faustus was educated by his uncle, who left his wealth to him, and gives details of his death. These and other points are not mentioned in the play, but they occur in the original prose History of Dr. Faustus, on which the ballad was certainly founded. The writer of the ballad passes by the most impressive scenes in the play, and we cannot assume that he was acquainted with it, although Professor Ward (in the full and interesting notes to his valuable edition of the play) while recognising the striking discrepancies, puts them aside with the curiously inadequate argument that ballads were often founded on plays. 2 It must be recollected that in the sixteenth century "magic" frequently included chemistry and other sciences. The services rendered to science by Paracelsus and Agrippa are scarcely yet generally recognised. CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. xxxvii Cracow, and afterwards " roamed about, and talked of secret things." The first literary version of the story of Faust was the Volksbuck which, published by Spiess in 1587, at Frankfort-on-the- Main, soon after appeared in England as The History of the Damnable Life and Deserved Death of Dr. John Faustus. To this translation of the Faust-book Marlowe generally adhered ; that is to say, in the incidents of the drama, and their sequence, he followed his authority. The weari- some comic passages, which Marlowe may or may not have written, are copied with special fidelity. Marlowe's play was probably the first dramatisa- tion of the Faust legend ; it became immediately popular, not only in England but abroad. Faustus, as well as the Jew of Malta, was acted in German by an English company in 1608, during the Carnival, at Graetz, and remained a favourite at Vienna throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Faustus was remodelled into a sort of Don Juan by the Jesuits, it is said, who disliked his scepticism and in this form he came into Goethe's hands. Goethe's opinion of Marlowe's Faustus we know. He had thought of translating it ; when it was mentioned he burst out with an exclamation of praise : ' How greatly it is all planned.' The three chief versions of the old legend the Volksbuch with its medieval story in a Protestant garb, Marlowe's Renaissance rendering and Goethe's modern Faust are all representative. The Volks- buch records Faust's histor^ from his birth to his final xxxviii CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. dismemberment by the Devil, in the calmly epical fashion of a medieval legend ; all his clownish tricks are narrated with great enjoyment, but the general atmosphere is moral and Protestant. Mar- lowe changed the point of view ; Faust is no longer an unintelligible magician looked at from the out- side, but a living man thirsting for the infinite ; the sinner becomes a hero, a Tamburlaine, no longer eager to " ride in triumph through Persepolis," who at the thought of vaster delights has ceased to care for the finite splendours of an earthly crown. " A god is not so glorious as a king. I think the pleasure they enjoy in Heaven Cannot compare with kingly joys in earth," once exclaimed Tamburlaine's follower, Theri- damas. Faustus, in his study, realising what magic promises, thinks otherwise : " Emperors and kings Are but obeyed in their several provinces ; Nor can they raise the wind or rend the clouds ; But his dominion that exceeds in this Stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man ; A sound magician is a demigod. " Marlowe's Faustus is not impelled like the Faustus of the legend by the desire of " worldly pleasure," nor, like Goethe's, by the vanity of knowledge ; it is power, power without bound, that he desires, all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the pride of life, -a world of profit and delight Of power, of honour, and omnipotence." CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. xxxix This gives him a passionate energy, an emotional sensibility which Goethe's more shifting, sceptical and complex Faust lacks. For Marlowe, also, magic was a possible reality. A very remarkable characteristic of Marlowe's Faustus, and of his work generally, which has not been sufficiently emphasised, 1 is the absence of material horror. " His raptures were all air and fire." In nothing has he shown himself so much a child of the Renaissance as in this repugnance to touch images of physical ugliness. Perondinus insists on Tamburlaine's lameness, of which Marlowe says no word ; the VolksbucJi is crammed with details concerning the medieval Hell ; Mar- lowe's conception of Hell is loftier than Dante's or Milton's. In reply to the question of Faustus : " How comes it then that thou art out of Hell ? " Mephistophilis replies : " Why this is Hell, nor am I out of it : Think 'st thou that I who saw the face of God, And tasted the eternal joys of Heaven, Am not tormented with ten thousand Hells, In being deprived of everlasting bliss ? " Such reticence as this was entirely out of the line of dramatic tradition, and even the able revisers of the edition pf Faustus published in 1616, contrived to bring in a plentiful supply of horrors, not only in the account of the death of Faustus, but as a description of Hell souls toasted on burning forks, broiling- live quarters, sops of flaming fire. 1 Professor Ward, however, points out the art with which, in Edward II., Marlowe avoids exciting "the sense of the loath- some." xl CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. I have already mentioned how closely Marlowe adhered to the incidents of the prose History and their sequence ; such slight additions as he makes are always for the better, as the opening scene in the study, in which Goethe follows him. It is in the selection of the serious incidents from the placid prose narrative that Marlowe's genius for the tragic poetry of intense emotion is especially revealed. Perhaps the passage of Marlowe which most profoundly influenced Shakespeare and other poets is, not the awful and intense scene with which the poem closes, but the address to Helen. The scene that contains this wonderful passage, aflame with impassioned loveliness, corresponds in its bare o*utlines exactly to that chapter of the prose History in which the Doctor, after dinner one day under- takes to brings Helen of Troy before the students. " This lady appeared before them," according to the narrative, " in a most rich gown of purple velvet, costly imbroidered ; her hair hanging down loose, as fair as the beaten gold, and of such length that it reached down to her hams, having most amorous cole-black eyes, a sweet and pleasant round face, with lips as red as any cherry ; her cheeks of a rose- colour, her mouth small, her neck white like a swan ; tall and slender of personage ; in sum, there was no imperfect place in her; she looked round about her with a roling hawke's eye, a smiling and wanton countenance, which near-hand inflamed the hearts of all the students, but that they persuaded them- selves she was a spirit, which made them lightly pass away such fancies : and thus fair Helena and CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. xli Faustus went out again one with another." After- wards Helena becomes his " common concubine and bed-fellow," and has a child called Justus Faustus, who, together with his mother, after the death of Faustus vanished away. That was all. It was to this material that Marlowe set his spirit. In Goethe's great and complex work the story is refined away ; Goethe was compelled to treat magic and Hell with irony. Marlowe was the first to spiritualise as well as to dramatise the story ; at the same time its substance has not become a symbol merely, as with Goethe, who soon flings himself free of the legend. Marlowe's Faustus, revealing the conflicting stress of new and old, remains a chief artistic embodiment of an intellectual attitude dominant at the Renaissance. The vigorous design and rich free verse of the Jew of Malta show a technical advance on Faustus. Only Milton, as Mr. Swinburne has somewhere remarked, has surpassed the opening soliloquy of Barabas. But after the second act the play declines ; the large conception of the Jew with his immense lust of wealth only rivalled by his love for his daughter, topples over into harsh and extravagant caricature. Marlowe seems to have worked hastily here, and when Shakespeare, a few years later, took up the same subject, although he treated it in the same spirit, the Merchant of Venice by force of his sweetness, humanity and humour, easily rises to a much higher pitch of art. The Jeiv uf Malta shows the transition between Marlowe the youthful tragic poet, with his intense xlii CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. and fascinating personality, and Marlowe the mature dramatist. In Edward II. Marlowe reached the summit of his art. There is little here of that amour de ? impossible > which is, as Mr. Symonds observes, his charac- teristic note ; his passionate poetry is subdued with severe self-restraint in a supreme tragic creation. It has long been a custom among critics to compare Edivard II. with Richard II. This is scarcely fair to Shakespeare ; the melodramatic and careless murder of Richard cannot be mentioned in presence of the chastened tragedy and highly- wrought pathos of Edward's last days ; the whole of Shakespeare's play, with its exuberant eloquence, its facile and diffuse poetry, is distincly inferior to Marlowe's, both in organic structure and in dramatic characterisation. It was not till ten years later that Shakespeare came near to this severe reticence, these deep and solemn tragic tones. Besides the three parts of Henry VI. in which Marlowe had a considerable share, two short and fragmentary plays, not included in this volume, remain to notice. The Massacre at Paris deals, very freely, with contemporary French history, and could not have been an early work ; * it has come to us in a mutilated and corrupt condition. But when all allowance has been made it remains, by general consent, the very worst of Marlowe's dramas. It contains scarcely one powerful passage. The 1 Henry III., with whose assassination the play ends, died on the 2nd August, 1589. It has been suggested that the existing version of this play is one of those short-hand piracies which seem to have been common. CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. xliii Tragedy of Dido, written by Marlowe and Nash, was published a year after the former's death. It is probably an early work of Marlowe's, so far as it is his at all, and it must have been elaborated and considerably enlarged by Nash in a manner that is sometimes a caricature, perhaps not quite uncon- sciously, of Marlowe's manner. Dido must be compared to Hero and Leander rather than to any of Marlowe's dramas. There is a certain mellifluous sweetness in the best scenes, such as that in which Dido makes love to yneas in the cave in which they had sought shelter from the storm. Dido. ALH. Dido ! Dido. Tell me, dear love, how found you out this cave ? sRu. By chance, sweet queen, as Mars and Venus met. Dido. Why that was in a net, where we are loose ; And yet I am not free,--O, would I were ! ALII. Why, what is it that Dido may desire And not obtain, be it in human power ? Dido. The thing that I will die before I ask, And yet desire to have before I die. ALII. It is not aught ^Eneas may achieve ? Dido. ^Eneas ! no ; although his eyes do pierce. ALn. What, hath larbus angered her in aught ? And will she be avenged on his life ? Dido. Not angered me, except in angering thee. ALn. Who, then of all so cruel may he be That shoul 1 detain thy eyes in his defects ? Dido. The man that I do eye where'er I am ; Whose amorous face, like Paean, sparkles fire, Whenas he butts his beams on Flora's bed. Prometheus hath put on Cupid's shape, And I must perish in Tiis burning arms : vEneas, O /Kneas, quench these flames ! ALH. What ails my queen ? is she fain sick of late ? Dido. Not sick, my love ; but sick I must conceal The torment that it boots me not reveal : And yet I'll speak, and yet I'll hold my peace. xliv CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. Do shame her worst, I will disclose my grief : /Eneas, thou art he what did I say ? Something it was that now I have forgot. It seems likely that the last years of Marlowe's life grew careless and irregular ; his later plays (putting aside Edward II.} show signs of swift and over-hasty workmanship, unlike the very careful and even work of the immature Tamburlaine. At the same time the thirst after the infinite and im- possible dies out, and is replaced by no sane and cheerful content with earth's limits. Edward II. is a fiercely ironical response to Tamburlaine's supreme desire " the sweet fruition of an earthly crown." Marlowe, like Cyril Tourneur, lacked altogether the tender humanity, the sweet and genial humour which saved the sensitive Shake- speare from the bitter pride of genius, and which marked even lesser men like Dekker and Middleton. Greene, who died just before Mar- lowe, reproaches him in the death-bed ravings of his Groat's Worth of Wit for his life and opinions. Marlowe was always outspoken, one gathers, and at this time it appears that he attracted especial atttention as a freethinker. Only a few days before his death, one Richard Bame sent in a note " contayninge the opinion of one Christofer Marlye concernynge his damnable opinions and judgment of Relygion and scorne of God's worde." This informer was hanged at Tyburn next year for some degrading offence, but there seems no reason while making judicious reservations to doubt the substantial accuracy of CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. xlv his statements. 1 It is noteworthy that Marlowe's heroes are usually heathens or infidels, and he takes every opportunity of insinuating a sceptical opin- ion. Probably his unorthodox views had much to do with the accusation of "vices sent from hell " in an anonymous play written shortly after his death. It is certain he had friends among the finest-natured men of his time. Walsingham was his patron ; there seems a touch of tenderness in Shakespeare's apostrophe of the " dead shepherd " in As you Like It ; Nash, who had sometimes been a jealous rival, wrote an elegy " on Marlowe's untimely death " which has not survived ; an anonymous writer in 1600 speaks lovingly of " kynde Kit Marloe ; " Edward Blunt, Marlowe's friend and publisher, writes, in words that have a genuine ring, of " the impression of the man that hath been dear unto us, living an after-life in our memory ; " Drayton's well- inspired lines are familiar : -" Marlowe, bathed in the Thespian springs, Had in him those brave translunary things That our first poets had : his raptures were All air and fire, which made his verses clear : For that fine madness still he did retain, Which rightly should possess a poet's brain." Chapman also wrote concerning "his free soul, whose living subject stood Up to the chin in the Pierian flood." There is no alloy of blame in the words of these 1 This very interesting document'is given in full in the Appendix. Mr. Bulien (following the Rev. A. Dyce) made some important omissions. xlvi CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. men, Drayton and Chapman, and they were among the gravest as well as the best-loved of their time. One lingers over the faintest traces of this perso- nality which must have been so fascinating, for we have no further trustworthy indications of the manner of man that he was in the eyes of those who knew him. There is, at last, one precious fragment which we cannot afford to pass by, for it bears Marlowe's in- tensely personal impress. Without this fragment of Hero and Leander^- we should not have known the full sweetness and range of his genius. It is the brightest flower of the English Renaissance, apart from that moral energy of the Reformation of which Chapman, together with something less than usual of his elaborate obscurity, afterwards gave it some faint tincture. It is a free and fresh and eager song, " drunk with gladness," like Hero who " stayed not for her robes," but straight arose to open the door to her lover full of ideal beauty that finds its expression in the form and colour of things, above all in the bodies of men and women ; for the passion of love, apart from the passion of beauty, Marlowe failed to grasp. No Elizabethan had so keen a sense of physical loveliness as these lines reveal : " His body was as straight as Circe's wand ; Jove might have sipped out nectar from his hand. Even as delicious meat is to the taste, So was his neck in touching, and surpassed 1 Marlowe's poems and translations have not received further notice here because they will, I hope, be included in a supplemen- tary volume of the series. CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. xlvil The white of Pelops' shoulder : I could tell ye, How smooth his breast was, and how white his belly ; And whose immortal fingers did imprint That heavenly path with many a curious dint That runs along his back." Shakespeare could not have been younger than Marlowe when he wrote his Venus and Adonis, which has ever since been coupled with Marlowe's poem. 1 Venus and Adonis is oppressive with its unexpanded power ; its workmanship is perhaps more searching and thorough, though so much less felicitous than that of Hero and Leander ; but we turn away with delight from its massive monotonous energy, its close and sensual atmosphere, to the free and open air, the colour and light, the swift and various music of Marlowe's poem. Shelley has scarcely surpassed the sweet gravity which the verse of " our elder Shelley " here reaches : " It lies not in our power to love or hate, For will in us is over-ruled by fate. When two are stripped, long e'er the course begin, We wish that one should lose, the other win ; And one especially do we affect Of two gold ingots, like in each respect : The reason no man knows, let it suffice, What we behold is censured by our eyes. Where both deliberate, the love is slight : Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight ? " The peculiar beauty of these lines seems to have 1 They had a wide popular reputation, resting on their supposed licentiousness, as, at a later day, Mademoiselle de Maupin, " I have conveyed away all her wanton pamphlets," says Harebrain in Middleton's A Mad World, my Masters, " as Hero and Leander, Venus and Adonis, O two luscious marrow-bone pies for a young married wife." xlviii CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. dwelt in Shakespeare's memory. It is little sur- prising that men were not easily tired of Hero and Leander. Taylor the water-poet tells us how his fellow scullers used to sing it as they plied their occupation on the Thames. It was these " sweet- according rimes " of Marlowe's, which, as his enthu- siastic young admirer, Petowe, wrote, " moved such delight, That men would shun their sleep in still dark night To meditate upon his golden lines. " In the spring of 1593 the plague raged in London. The actors went into the provinces ; many authors sought refuge in the country. In May we know that Marlowe was at the little village of Deptford, not many miles from London. There was turbulent blood there, and wine ; there were courtesans and daggers. Here Marlowe was slain, killed by a serving-man, a rival in a quarrel over bought kisses "a bawdy serving-man." 1 They buried him in an unknown spot, beneath the grey towers of St. Nicholas, and they wrote in the parish-book : " Christopher Marlow, slain by ffrancis Archer, the i of June 1593." HAVELOCK ELLIS. 1 So the brief account of Francis Meres (Palladis Tamia, 1598). There are other more suspected narratives, varying considerably from each other, and with a marked bias in favour of moral edifi- cation. TAWBU'ULAKKiE THE GI^EAT. *te IN Two PARTS. i Mar HE play of Tambtirlatnc, which had been acted in, or before, 1588, was published in 1 590. There were subsequent editions in 1592, 1593, 1597, 1605-6. Its popu- larity was very great. According to Thomas Heywood, the famous actor Alleyn, in this play and in The Jew of Malta, " won The attribute of peerless ; " and in Henslowe's Diary we read of Tamburlaine's crimson- velvet breeches and copper-laced coat. From an address to the reader prefixed by the printer to the edition of 1 592, it appears that the play originally con- tained comic scenes. " I have purposely omitted and left out," he tells us, " certain fond and frivolous gestures, digressing, and, in my poor opinion, far unmeet for the matter, which I thought might seem more tedious unto the wise than any way else to be regarded, though haply they have been of some vain-conceited fondlings greatly gaped at, what time they were shewed upon the stage in their graced deformities : nevertheless now to be mixtured in print with such matter of worth, it would prove a great disgrace to so honourable and stately a history. The sources whence the play of TamlmHainc was derived have been already pointed out. 1 1 See ante, p. xxxiii. TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. PART THE FIRST. ~HH* THE PROLOGUE. FROM jigging veins of rhyming mother wits, And such conceits as clownage keeps in pay, We'll lead you to the stately tent of war, Where you shall hear the Scythian Tamburlaine Threatening the world with high astounding terms, And scourging kingdoms with his conquering sword. View but his picture in this tragic glass, And then applaud his fortune as you please. DRAMATIS PERSONS. MYCETES, King of Persia. COSROE, his Brother. ORTYGIUS, CENEUS, MEANDER, Persian Lords and Captains. MENAPHON, THERIDAMAS, J TAMBURLAINE, a Scythian Shepherd. TECHELLES, ) USUMCASANE, f his Followers. BAJAZETH, Emperor of the Turks. KING of ARABIA. KING of FEZ. KING of MOROCCO. KING of ARGIER (Algiers). SOLDAN of EGYPT. GOVERNOR of DAMASCUS. AGYDAS, ) MAGNETES, } Median Lords. CAPOLIN, an Egyptian Captain. PHILEMUS, a Messenger. ZENOCRATE, Daughter of the Soldan of Egypt. ANIPPE, her Maid. ZABINA, Wife of Bajazeth. EBEA, her Maid. Virgins of Damascus. No list of the characters is given in the early editions ; the omission is frequent in plays of this period. THE GT^EAT. PART THE FIRST. ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I. Enter MYCETES, COSROE, MEANDER, THERIDAMAS, ORTYGIUS, CENSUS, MENAPHON, with others. YC. Brother Cosroe, I find myself aggrieved, Yet insufficient to express the same ; For it requires a great and thundering speech : Good brother, tell the cause unto my lords ; I know you have a better wit than I. Cos. Unhappy Persia, that in former age Hast been the seat of mighty conquerors, That, in their prowess and their policies, Have triumphed over Afric and the bounds Of Europe, where the sun scarce dares appear For freezing meteors ?nd congealed cold, 6 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT i. Now to be ruled and governed by a man At whose birthday Cynthia with Saturn joined, And Jove, the Sun, and Mercury denied To shed their influence in his fickle brain ! Now Turks and Tartars shake their swords at thee, Meaning to mangle all thy provinces. Myc. Brother, I see your meaning well enough, And through your planets I perceive you think I am not wise enough to be a king ; But I refer me to my noblemen That know my wit, and can be witnesses. I might command you to be slain for this : Meander, might I not? Meand. Not for so small a fault, my sovereign lord. Myc. I mean it not, but yet I know I might ; Yet live ; yea live, Mycetes wills it so. Meander, thou, my faithful counsellor, Declare the cause of my conceived grief, Which is, God knows, about that Tamburlaine, That, like a fox in midst of harvest time, Doth prey upon my flocks of passengers ; And, as I hear, doth mean to pull my plumes : Therefore 'tis good and meet for to be wise. Meand. Oft have I heard your majesty complain Of Tamburlaine, that sturdy Scythian thief, That robs your merchants of Persepolis Trading by land unto the Western Isles, And in your confines with his lawless train Daily commits incivil l outrages, Hoping (misled by dreaming prophecies) To reign in Asia, and with barbarous arms 1 Brutal. SCENE I.] PART THE FIRST. 7 To make himself the monarch of the East; But ere he march in Asia, or display His vagrant ensign in the Persian fields, Your grace hath taken order by Theridamas, Charged with a thousand horse, to apprehend And bring him captive to your highness' throne. Myc. Full true thou speak'st, and like thyself, my lord, Whom I may term a Damon for thy love : Therefore 'tis best, if so it like you all, To send my thousand horse incontinent J To apprehend that paltry Scythian. How like you this, my honourable lords ? Is't not a kingly resolution ? Cos. It cannot choose, because it comes from you. Myc. Then hear thy charge, valiant Theridamas, The chiefest captain of Mycetes' host, The hope of Persia, and the very legs Whereon our State doth lean as on a staff, That holds us up, and foils our neighbour foes : Thou shalt be leader of this thousand horse, Whose foaming gall with rage and high disdain Have sworn the death of wicked Tamburlaine. Go frowning forth ; but come thou smiling home, As did Sir Paris with the Grecian dame ; Return with speed time passeth swift away ; Our life is frail, and we may die to-day. Ther. Before the moon renew her borrowed light, Doubt not, my lord and gracious sovereign, But Tamburlaine and that Tartarian rout, Shall either perish by our warlike hands, Or plead for mercy at your highness' feet. 1 Forthwith. 8 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT I. Myc. Go, stout Theridamas, thy words are swords, And with thy looks thou conquerest all thy foes ; I long to see thee back return from thence, That I may view these milk-white steeds of mine AH loaden with the heads of killed men, And from their knees e'en to their hoofs below Besmeared with blood that makes a dainty show. Ther. Then now, my lord, I humbly take my leave. Myc. Theridamas, farewell ! ten thousand times. \_Exit THERIDAMAS. Ah, Menaphon, why stay'st thou thus behind, When other men press forward tor renown ? Go, Menaphon, go into Scythia ; And foot by foot follow Theridamas. Cos. Nay, pray you let him stay ; a greater task Fits Menaphon than warring with a thief : Create him Prorex ' of all Africa, That he may win the Babylonians' hearts Which will revolt from Persian government, Unless they have a wiser king than you. Myc. " Unless they have a wiser king than you." These are his words ; Meander, set them down. Cos. And add this to them that all Asia Laments to see the folly of their king. Myc. Well, here I swear by this my royal seat, Cos- You may do well to kiss it then. Myc. Embossed with silk as best beseems my state, To be revenged for these contemptuous words. Oh, where is duty and allegiance now ? Fled to the Caspian or the Ocean main ? What shall I call thee ? brother ? no, a foe ; Monster of nature ! Shame unto thy stock 1 Viceroy. SCENE i.] PART THE FIRST. 9 That dar'st presume thy sovereign for to mock ! Meander, come : I am abused, Meander. [Exeunt all but COSROE and MENAPHON. Men. How now, my lord ? What, mated ! and amazed To hear the king thus threaten like himself ! Cos. Ah, Menaphon, I pass not 2 for his threats ; The plot is laid by Persian -noblemen And captains of the Median garrisons To crown me Emperor of Asia : But this it is that doth excruciate The very substance of my vexed soul To see our neighbours that were wont to quake And tremble at the Persian monarch's name, Now sit and laugh our regiment 3 to scorn ; And that which might resolve 4 me into tears, Men from the farthest equinoctial line Have swarmed in troops into the Eastern India, Lading their ships with gold and precious stones, And made their spoils from all our provinces. Men. This should entreat your highness to rejoice, Since Fortune gives you opportunity To gain the title of a conqueror By curing of this maimed empery. Afric and Europe bordering on your land, And continent to your dominions, How easily may you, with a mighty host, Pass into Graecia, as did Cyrus once, And cause them to withdraw their forces home, Lest you subdue the pride of Christendom. [Trumpet within. Cos. But, Menaphon, what means this trumpet's sound ? Men. Behold, my lord, Ortygius and the rest Bringing the crown to make you Emperor ! 1 Confounded. 2 Care not. 3 Rule. issolve. io 7AMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT i. Enter ORTYGIUS and CENEUS, with others, bearing a crown. Orty. Magnificent and mighty Prince Cosroe, We, in the name of other Persian States l And Commons of the mighty monarchy, Present thee with the imperial diadem. Cen. The warlike soldiers and the gentlemen, That heretofore have filled Persepolis With Afric captains taken in the field, Whose ransom made them march in coats of gold, With costly jewels hanging at their ears, And shining stones upon their lofty crests, Now living idle in the walled towns, Wanting both pay and martial discipline, Begin in troops to threaten civil war, And openly exclaim against their king : Therefore, to stop all sudden mutinies, We will invest your highness Emperor, Whereat the soldiers will conceive more joy Than did the Macedonians at the spoil Of great Darius and his wealthy host. Cos. Well, since I see the state of Persia droop And languish in my brother's government, I willingly receive the imperial crown, And vow to wear it for my country's good, In spite of them shall malice 2 my estate. Orty. And in assurance of desired success, We here do crown thee monarch of the East, Emperor of Asia and Persia ; Great Lord of Media and Armenia ; Duke of Africa and Albania, Mesopotamia and of Parthia, 1 i.e., Persons of state.! 2 " Malice " was frequently used as a verb. SCENE I.] PART THE FIRST. 11 East India and the late-discovered isles ; Chief Lord of all the wide, vast Euxine sea, And of the ever-raging Caspian lake. All. Long live Cosroe, mighty Emperor ! Cos. And Jove may never let me longer live Than I may seek to gratify your love, And cause the soldiers that thus honour me To triumph over many provinces ! By whose desire of discipline in arms I doubt not shortly but to reign sole king, And with the army of Theridamas, (Whither we presently will fly, my lords) To rest secure against my brother's force. Orty. We knew, my lord, before we brought the crown, Intending your investion so near The residence of your despised brother, The lords would not be too exasperate To injury 2 or suppress your worthy title ; Or, if they would, there are in readiness Ten thousand horse to carry you from hence, In spite of all suspected enemies. Cos. I know it well, my lord, and thank you all. Orty. Sound up the trumpets then. [ Trumpets sound. All. God save the King ! \Exeunt. 1 Meaning "And may Jove," &c. Marlowe had very vague ideas respecting the Persian and Mahommedan religions. Tambur- laine often invokes Jove, and seems to be well versed in the Greek mythology. ' " Injury," like "malice," was sometimes used as a verb by our early writers. 12 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT I. SCENE II. Enter TAMBURLAINE leading ZENOCRATE, TECHELLES, USUMCASANE, AGYDAS, MAGNETES, Lords, and Sol- diers, laden with treasure. Tamb. Come, lady, let not this appal your thoughts ; The jewels and the treasure we have ta'en Shall be reserved, and you in better state, Than if you were arrived in Syria, Even in the circle of your father's arms, The mighty Soldan of ^Egyptia. Zeno. Ah, shepherd ! pity my distressed plight, (If, as thou seem'st, thou art so mean a man,) And seek not to enrich thy followers By lawless rapine from a silly maid, Who travelling with these Median lords To Memphis, from my uncle's country of Media, Where all my youth I have been governed, Have passed the army of the mighty Turk, Bearing his privy signet and his hand To safe conduct us thorough Africa. Mag. And since we have arrived in Scythia, Besides rich presents from the puissant Cham, We have his highness' letters to command Aid and assistance, if we stand in need. Tamb. But now you see these letters and com- mands Are countermanded by a greater man ; And through my provinces you must expect Letters of conduct from my mightiness, If you intend to keep your treasure safe. But, since I love to live at liberty, SCENE II.] PART THE FIRST. 13 As easily may you get the Soldan's crown As any prizes out of my precinct ; For they are friends that help to wean my state 'Till men and kingdoms help to strengthen it, And must maintain my life exempt from servitude. But, tell me, madam, is your grace betrothed ? Zeno. I am my lord for so you do import. Tamb. I am a lord, for so my deeds shall prove : And yet a shepherd by my parentage. But, lady, this fair face and heavenly hue Must grace his bed that conquers Asia, And means to be a terror to the world, Measuring the limits of his empery By east and west, as Phoebus doth his course. Lie here ye weeds that I disdain to wear ! This complete armour and this curtle-axe l Are adjuncts more beseeming Tamburlaine. And, madam, whatsoever you esteem Of this success and loss unvalued, 2 Both may invest you Empress of the East ; And these that seem but silly country swains May have the leading of so great an host, As with their weight shall make the mountains quake, Even as when windy exhalations Fighting for passage, tilt within the earth. Tech. As princely lions, when they rouse themselves, Stretching their paws, and threatening herds of beasts, So in his armour looketh Tamburlaine. Methinks I see kings kneeling at his feet, And he with frowning brows and fiery looks, Spurning their crowns from off their captive heads. 1 The curtle-axe (Fr. ceutelasse] was not an axe, but a short curved sword, which survives in the modern cutlass. ' Invaluable. H TAMBURLA1NE THE GREAT. [ACT i. Usum. And making thee and me, Techelles, kings, That even to death will follow Tamburlaine. Tamb. Nobly resolved, sweet friends and followers ! These lords, perhaps do scorn our estimates, And think we prattle with distempered spirits ; But since they measure our deserts so mean, That in conceit bear empires on our spears, Affecting thoughts coequal with the clouds, They shall be kept our forced followers, Till with their eyes they view us emperors. Zeno. The gods, defenders of the innocent, Will never prosper your intended drifts, That thus oppress poor friendless passengers. Therefore at least admit us liberty, Even as thou hopest to be eternised, By living Asia's mighty Emperor. Agyd. I hope our ladies' treasure and our own, May serve for ransom to our liberties : Return our mules and empty camels back, That we may travel into Syria, Where her betrothed lord Alcidamas, Expects th' arrival of her highness' person. Mag. And wheresoever we repose ourselves, We will report but well of Tamburlaine. Tamb. Disdains Zenocrate to live with me ? Or you, my lords, to be my followers ? Think you I weigh this treasure more than you Not all the gold in India's wealthy arms Shall buy the meanest soldier in my train. Zenocrate, lovelier than the love of Jove, Brighter than is the silver Rhodope, Fairer than whitest snow on Scythian hills, Thy person is more worth to Tamburlaine, Than the possession of the Persian crown, SCENE II.] PART THE FIRST. 15 Which gracious stars have promised at my birth. A hundred Tartars shall attend on thee, Mounted on steeds swifter than Pegasus ; Thy garments shall be made of Median silk, Enchased with precious jewels of mine own, More rich and valurous * than Zenocrate's. With milk-white harts upon an ivory sled, Thou shalt be drawn amidst the frozen pools, And scale the icy mountains' lofty tops, Which with thy beauty will be soon resolved. My martial prizes with five hundred men, Won on the fifty-headed Volga's waves, Shall we all offer to Zenocrate, And then myself to fair Zenocrate. Tech. What now ! in love ? Tamb. Techelles, women must be flattered : But this is she with whom I am in love. Enter a Soldier. Sold. News ! news ! Tamb. How now what's the matter ? Sold. A thousand Persian horsemen are at hand, Sent from the king to overcome us all. Tamb. How now, my lords of Egypt, and Zenocrate ! How ! must your jewels be restored again, And I, that triumphed so, be overcome ? How say you, lordings, is not this your hope? Agyd. We hope yourself will willingly restore them. Tamb. Such hope, such fortune, have the thousand horse. Soft ye, my lords, and sweet Zenocrate ! You must be forced from me ere you go. A thousand horsemen ! We five hundred foot ! - 1 Valuable. 1 6 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT I. An odds too great for us to stand against. But are they rich ? and is their armour good ? Sold. Their plumed helms are wrought with beaten gold, Their swords enamelled, and about their necks Hang massy chains of gold, down to the waist, In every part exceeding brave 1 and rich. Tamb. Then shall we fight courageously with them ? Or look you I should play the orator ? Tech. No : cowards and faint-hearted runaways Look for orations when the foe is near : Our swords shall play the orator for us. Usum. Come ! let us meet them at the mountain top, And with a sudden and a hot alarum, Drive all their horses headlong down the hill. Tech. Come, let us march ! Tamb. Stay, Techelles ! ask a parley first. The Soldiers enter. Open the mails, yet guard the treasure sure ; Lay out our golden wedges to the view, That their reflections may amaze the Persians ; And look we friendly on them when they come ; But if they offer word or violence, We'll fight five hundred men-at-arms to one, Before we part with our possession. And 'gainst the general we will lift our swords, And either lance his greedy thirsting throat, Or take him prisoner, and his chain shall serve For manacles, till he be ransomed home. Tech. I hear them come ; shall we encounter them ? Tamb. Keep all your standings and not stir a foot, Myself will bide the danger of the brunt. 1 Fine. Trunks. Fr. malles. SCENE u.] PART THE FIRST. 17 Enter THERIDAMAS and others. Ther. Where is this Scythian Tamburlaine ? Tamb. Whom seek'st thou, Persian ? I am Tambur laine. Ther. Tamburlaine ! A Scythian shepherd so embellished W r ith nature's pride and richest furniture ! His looks do menace Heaven and dare the gods : His fiery eyes are fixed upon the earth, As if he now devised some stratagem, Or meant to pierce Avernus' darksome vaults To pull the triple-headed dog from hell. Tamb. Noble and mild this Persian seems to be, If outward habit judge the inward man. Tech. His deep affections make him passionate. Tamb. With what a majesty he rears his looks ! In thee, thou valiant man of Persia, I see the folly of thy emperor. Art thou but captain of a thousand horse, That by characters graven in thy brows, And by thy martial face and stout aspect, Deserv'st to have the leading of a host ! Forsake thy king, and do but join with me, And we will triumph over all the world ; I hold the Fates bound fast in iron chains, And with my hand turn Fortune's wheel about : And sooner shall the sun fall from his sphere, Than Tamburlaine be slain or overcome. Draw forth thy sword, thou mighty man-at-arms, Intending but to raze my charmed skin, And Jove himself will stretch his hand from Heaven I'o ward the blow and shield me safe from harm. See how he rains down heaps of gold in showers, Mar. C 1 8 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT i. As if he meant to give my soldiers pay ! And as a sure and grounded argument, That I shall be the monarch of the East, He sends this Soldan's daughter rich and brave, To be my Queen and portly Emperess. If thou wilt stay with me, renowned man, And lead thy thousand horse with my conduct, Besides thy share of this Egyptian prize, Those thousand horse shall sweat with martial spoil Of conquered kingdoms and of cities sacked ; Both we will walk upon the lofty cliffs, And Christian merchants l that with Russian steins Plough up huge furrows in the Caspian sea, Shall vail 2 to us, as lords of all the lake. Both we will reign as consuls of the earth, And mighty kings shall be our senators. Jove sometimes masked in a shepherd's weed, And by those steps that he hath scaled the Heavens May we become immortal like the gods. J oin with me now in this my mean estate, (I call it mean because being yet obscure, The nations far removed admire me not,) And when my name and honour shall be spread As far as Boreas claps his brazen wings, Or fair Bootes sends his cheerful light, Then shalt thou be competitor 3 with me, And sit with Tamburlaine in all his majesty. Thr. Not Hermes, prolocutor to the gods, Could use persuasions more pathetical. Tamb. Nor are Apollo's oracles more true, Than thou shalt find my vaunts substantial. Tech. We are his friends, and if the Persian king Should offer present dukedoms to our state, 1 Merchantmen. 2 Lower their flags. 3 Associate. SCENE ii,] PART 7HE FIRST. 19 We think it loss to make exchange for that We are assured of by our friend's success. Usum. And kingdoms at the least we all expect, Besides the honour in assured conquests, When kings shall crouch unto our conquering swords And hosts of soldiers stand amazed at us ; When with their fearful tongues they shall confess, These are the men that all the world admires. Ther. What strong enchantments tice my yielding soul! These are resolved, noble Scythians : But shall I prove a traitor to my king ? Tamb. No, but the trusty friend of Tamburlaine. Ther. Won with thy words, and conquered with thy looks, I yield myself, my men, and horse to thee, To be partaker of thy good or ill, As long as life maintains Theridamas. Tamb. Theridamas, my friend, take here my hand, Which is as much as if I swore by Heaven, And called the gods to witness of my vow. Thus shall my heart be still combined with thine Until our bodies turn to elements, And both our souls aspire celestial thrones. Techelles and Casane, welcome him ! Tech. Welcome, renowned Persian, to us all ! Usum. Long may Theridamas remain with us ! Tamb. These are my friends, in whom I more re- joice Than doth the King of Persia in his crown, And by the love of Pylades and Orestes, Whose statues we adore in Scythia, Thyself and them shall never part from me Before I crown you kings in Asia. c 2 20 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT r. Make much of them, gentle Theridamas, And they will never leave thee till the death, Ther. Nor thee nor them, thrice noble Tamburlaine, Shall want my heart to be with gladness pierced, To do you honour and security. Tamb. A thousand thanks, worthy Theridamas. And now fair madam, and my noble lords, If you will willingly remain with me You shall have honours as your merits be ; Or else you shall be forced with slavery. Agyd. We yield unto thee, happy Tamburlaine. Tamb. For you then, madam, I am out of doubt. Zeno. I must be pleased perforce. Wretched Zeno- crate ! [F.xewit. ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I. Enter COSROE, MENAPHON, ORTYGIUS, and CENEUS, with Soldiers. >OS. Thus far are we towards Theri- damas, And valiant Tamburlaine, the man of fame, The man that in the forehead of his fortune Bears figures of renown and miracle. But tell me, that hast seen him, Menaphon, What stature wields he, and what personage ? Men. Of stature tall, and straightly fashioned, Like his desire lift upward and divine ; So large of limbs, his joints so strongly knit, Such breadth of shoulders as might mainly bear Old Atlas' burthen ; 'twixt his manly pitch, 1 A pearl, more worth than all the world, is placed, Wherein by curious sovereignty of art Are fixed his piercing instruments of sight, Whose fiery circles bear encompassed A heaven of heavenly bodies in their spheres, 1 Originally the height to which a falcon soared ; hence for height in general. Here it means the shoulders. 22 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT II. That guides his steps and actions to the throne, Where honour sits invested royally : Pale of complexion, wrought in him with passion, Thirsting with sovereignty and love of arms ; His lofty brows in folds do figure death, And in their smoothness amity and life ; About them hangs a knot of amber hair, Wrapped in curls, as fierce Achilles' was, On which the breath of Heaven delights to play, Making it dance with wanton majesty. His arms and fingers, long, and sinewy, 1 Betokening valour and excess of strength ; In every part proportioned like the man Should make the world subdued to Tamburlaine. Cos. Well hast thou pourtrayed in thy terms of life The face and personage of a wondrous man ; Nature doth strive with Fortune and his stars To make him famous in accomplished worth ; And well his merits show him to be made His fortune's master and the king of men, That could persuade at such a sudden pinch, With reasons of his valour and his life, A thousand sworn and overmatching foes. Then, when our powers in points of swords are joined And closed in compass of the killing bullet, Though strait the passage and the port " be made That leads to palace of my brother's life, Proud is his fortune if we pierce it not. And when the princely Persian diadem Shall overweigh his weary witless head, And fall like mellowed fruit with shakes of death, 1 Dyce's emendation for "snowy "or "snowy-white." Marlowe uses the word "sinewy" elsewhere. 2 Gate. SCENE II.] PART THE FIRST. 23 In fair Persia, noble Tamburlaine Shall be my regent and remain as king. Orty. In happy hour we have set the crown Upon your kingly head that seeks our honour, In joining with the man ordained by Heaven, To further every action to the bast. Cen. He that with shepherds and a little spoil Durst, in disdain of wrong and tyranny, Defend his freedom 'gainst a monarchy, What will he do supported by a king, Leading a troop of gentlemen and lords, And stufied with treasure for his highest thoughts ! Cos. And such shall wait on worthy Tamburlaine. Our army will be forty thousand strong, When Tamburlaine and brave Theridamas Have met us by the river Araris ; And all conjoined to meet the witless king, That now is marching near to Parthia, And with unwilling soldiers faintly armed, To seek revenge on me and Tamburlaine, To whom, sweet Menaphon, direct me straight. Men. I will, my lord. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Enter MYCETES, MEANDER, with other Lords and Soldiers. Myc. Come, my Meander, let us to this gear. I tell you true, my heart is swoln with wrath On this same thievish villain, Tamburlaine, And on that false Cosroe, my traitorous brother. Would it not grieve a king to be so abused 24 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT n, And have a thousand horsemen ta'en away ? And, which is worse, to have his diadem Sought for by such scald l knaves as love him not ? I think it would ; well then, by Heavens I swear, Aurora shall not peep out of her doors, But I will have Cosroe by the head, And kill proud Tamburlaine with point of sword. Tell you the rest, Meander : I have said. Mcand. Then having passed Armenian deserts now, And pitched our tents under the Georgian hills, Whose tops are covered with Tartarian thieves, That lie in ambush, waiting for a prey, What should we do but bid them battle straight, And rid the world of those detested troops ? Lest, if we let them linger here awhile, They gather strength by power of fresh supplies. Phis country swarms with vile outrageous men That live by rapine and by lawless spoil, Fit soldiers for the wicked Tamburlaine ; And he that could with gifts and promises Inveigle him that led a thousand horse, And make him false his faith unto his king, Will quickly win such as be like himself. Therefore cheer up your minds ; prepare to fight ; He that can take cr slaughter Tamburlaine Shall rule the province of Albania : Who brings that traitor's head, Theridamas, Shall have a government in Media, Beside the spoil of him and all his train : But if Cosroe, (as our spials - say, And as we know) remains with Tamburlaine, His highness' pleasure is that he should live, And be reclaimed with princely lenity. 1 Scurvy. 2 Spies. SCENE II.] PART THE FIRST. 25 A Spy. A hundred horsemen of my company Scouting abroad upon these champion l plains Have viewed the army of the Scythians, Which make report it far exceeds the king's. Meand. Suppose they be in number infinite, Yet being void of martial discipline, All running headlong greedy after spoils, And more regarding gain than victory. Like to the cruel brothers of the earth, Sprung of the teeth of dragons venomous, Their careless swords shall lance their fellows' throats, And make us triumph in their overthrow. Myc. Was there such brethren, sweet Meander, say, That sprung of teeth of dragons venomous ? Meand. So poets say, my lord. Myc. And 'tis a pretty toy to be a poet. Well, well, Meander, thou art deeply read, And having thee, I have a jewel sure. Go on, my lord, and give your charge, I say j Thy wit will make us conquerors to-day. Meand. Then, noble soldiers, to entrap these thieves, That live confounded in disordered troops, If wealth or riches may prevail with them, We have our camels laden all with gold, Which you that be but common soldiers Shall fling in every corner of the field ; And while the base-born Tartars take it up, You, fighting more for honour than for gold, Shall massacre those greedy-minded slaves ; . And when their scattered army is subdued, And you march on their slaughtered carcases, Share equally the gold that bought their lives, 1 The old way of spelling "champaign," Fr. champagne. 26 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT n. And live like gentlemen in Persia. Strike up the drum ! and march courageously ! Fortune herself doth sit upon our crests. Myc. He tells you true, my masters : so he does. Drums, why sound ye not, when Meander speaks? \Exeunt, drums sounding. SCENE III. Enter COSROE, TAMBURLAINE, THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, USUMCASANE, and ORTYGIUS, with others. Cos. Now, worthy Tamburlaine, have I reposed In thy approved fortunes all my hope. What think'st thou, man, shall come of our attempts ? For even as from assured oracle, I take thy doom for satisfaction. Tamb. And so mistake you not a whit, my lord ; For fates and oracles of Heaven have sworn To royalise the deeds of Tamburlaine, And make them blest that share in his attempts. And doubt you not but, if you favour me, And let my fortunes and my valour sway To some direction in your martial deeds, The world will strive with hosts of men-at-arms, To swarm unto the ensign I support : The host of Xerxes, which by fame is said To have drank the mighty Parthian Araris, Was but a handful to that we will have. Our quivering lances, shaking in the air, And bullets, like Jove's dreadful thunderbolts, Enrolled in flames and fiery smouldering mists, Shall threat the gods more than Cyclopian wars : SCENE in.] PART THE FIRST. 27 And with our sun-bright armour as we march, We'll chase the stars from Heaven and dim their eves That stand and muse at our admired arms. Ther. You see, my lord, what working words he hath ; But when you see his actions top his speech, Your speech will stay or so extol his worth As I shall be commended and excused For turning my poor charge to his direction. And these his two renowned friends, my lord, Would make one thirst and strive to be retained In such a great degree of amity. Tech. With duty and with amity we yield Our utmost service to the fair Cosroe. Cos. Which I esteem as portion of my crown. Usumcasane and Techelles both, When she that rules in Rhamnus' l golden gates, And makes a passage for all prosperous arms, Shall make me solely Emperor of Asia, Then shall your meeds and valours be advanced To rooms' of honour and nobility. Tamb. Then haste, Cosroe, to be king alone, That I with these, my friends, and all my men May triumph in our long-expected fate. The king, your brother, is now hard at hand ; Meet with the fool, and rid your royal shoulders Of such a burthen as outweighs the sands And all the craggy rocks of Caspia. Enter a Messenger. Mes. My lord, we have discovered the enemy Ready to charge you with a mighty army. 1 The allusion is to Nemesis, who had a temple at Rhamnus in Atlica. Bullen, 28 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT 11. Cos. Come, Tamburlaine ! now whet thy winged sword, And lift thy lofty arm into the clouds, That it may reach the King of Persia's crown, And set it safe on my victorious head. Tamb. See where it is. the keenest curtle-axe That e'er made passage thorough Persian arms. These are the wings shall make it fly as swift As doth the lightning or the breath of Heaven, And kill as sure as it swiftly flies. Cos. Thy words assure me of kind success ; Go, valiant soldier, go before and charge The fainting army of that foolish king. Tamb. Usumcasane and Techelles, come ! We are enow to scare the enemy, And more than needs to make an emperor. [Exeunt to the battle. SCENE IV. Enter MYCETES with his crown in his hand. Myc. Accursed be he that first invented war ! They knew not, ah they knew not, simple men, How those were hit by pelting cannon shot, Stand staggering like a quivering aspen leaf Fearing the force of Boreas' boisterous blasts. In what a lamentable case were I If Nature had not given me wisdom's lore, For kings are clouts that every man shoots at, Our crown the pin J that thousands seek to cleave ; 1 The "clout" was the white mark in the butts at which the archers aimed, and the "pin" was the peg in the centre which fastene:! it. SCENE iv.] PART THE FIRST. 29 Therefore in policy I think it good To hide it close ; a goodly stratagem, And far from any man that is a fool : So shall I not be known ; or if I be, They cannot take away my crown from me. Here will I hide it in this simple hole. Enter TAMBURLAINE. Tamb. What, fearful coward, straggling from the camp, When kings themselves are present in the field ? Myc. Thou liest. Tamb. Base villain ! darest give me the lie ? Myc. Away ; I am the king ; go ; touch me not. Thou break'st the law of arms, unless thou kneel And cry me " mercy, noble king." Tamb. Are you the witty King of Persia ? Myc. Ay, marry am I : have you any suit to me ? Tamb. I would entreat you speak but three wise words. Myc. So I can when I see my time. Tamb. Is this your crown ? Myc. Ay, didst thou ever see a fairer ? Tamb. You will not sell it, will you ? Myc. Such another word and I will have thee executed. Come, give it me ! Tamb. No ; I took it prisoner. Myc. You lie ; I gave it you. Tamb. Then 'tis mine. Myc. No ; I mean I let you keep it. Tamb. Well ; I mean you shall have it again. Here ; take it for a while : I lend it thee, 'Till I may see thee hemmed with armed men ; Then shalt thou see me pull it from thy head : Thou art no match for mighty Tamburlaine. {Exit TAMBURLAINE, 30 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT n. Myc. O gods ! Is this Tamburlaine the thief? I marvel much he stole it not away. [ Trumpets sound to the battle, and he runs out. SCENE V. Enter COSROE, TAMBURLAINE, MEANDER, THERIDAMAS, ORTYGIUS, MENAPHON, TECHELLES, USUMCASANE, with others. Tamb. Hold thee, Cosroe ! wear two imperial crowns ; Think thee invested now as royally, Even by the mighty hand of Tamburlaine, As if as many kings as could encompass thee With greatest pomp, had crowned thee emperor. Cos. So do I, thrice renowned man-at-arms, And none shall keep the crown but Tamburlaine. Thee do I make my regent of Persia, And general lieutenant of my armies. Meander, you, that were our brother's guide, And chiefest counsellor in all his acts, Since he is yielded to the stroke of war, On your submission we with thanks excuse, And give you equal place in our affairs. Meand. Most happy Emperor, in humblest terms, I vow my service to your majesty, With utmost virtue of my faith and duty. Cos. Thanks, good Meander : then, Cosroe, reign, And govern Persia in her former pomp ! Now send embassage to thy neighbour kings, And let them know the Persian king is changed, From one that knew not what a king should do, To one that can command what 'longs thereto. SCENE v.] PART THE FIRST. 31 And now we will to fair Persepolis, With twenty thousand expert soldiers. The lords and captains of my brother's camp With little slaughter take Meander's course, And gladly yield them to my gracious rule. Ortygius and Menaphon, my trusty friendo, Now will I gratify your former good, And grace your calling with a greater sway. Orty. And as we ever aimed at your behoof, And sought your state all honour it deserved, So will we with our powers and our lives Endeavour to preserve and prosper it. Cos. I will not thank thee, sweet Ortygius ; Better replies shall prove my purposes. And now, Lord Tamburlaine, my brother's camp I leave to thee and to Theridamas, To follow me to fair Persepolis. Then will we march to all those Indian mines, My witless brother to the Christians lost, And ransom them with fame and usury. And till thou overtake me, Tamburlaine, (Staying to order all the scattered troops,) Farewell, lord regent and his happy friends ! I long to sit upon my brother's throne. Meand. Your majesty shall shortly have your wish, And ride in triumph through Persepolis. \Exeunt all but TAMBURLAINE, THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, and USUMCASANE. Ta/nb. " And ride in triumph through Persepolis ! " Is it not brave to be a king, Techelles ? Usumcasane and Theridamas, Is it not passing brave to be . king, "And ride in triumph through Persepolis ? " Tech. O, my lord, 'tis sweet and full of pomp. 32 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT 11. Usum. To be a king is half to be a god. Ther. A god is not so glorious as a king. I think the pleasure they enjoy in Heaven, Cannot compare with kingly joys in earth. To wear a crown enchased with pearl and gold, Whose virtues carry with it life and death ; To ask and have, command and be obeyed ; When looks breed love, with looks to gain the prize, Such power attractive shines in princes' eyes ! Tamb. Why say, Theridamas, wilt thou be a king ? Ther. Nay, though I praise it, I can live without it. Tamb. What say my other friends ? Will you be kings ? Tech. I, if I could, with all my heart, my lord. Tamb. Why, that's well said, Techelles; so would I, And so would you, my masters, would you not ? Usum. What then, my lord ? Tamb. Why then, Casane, shall we wish for aught The world affords in greatest novelty, And rest attemptless, faint and destitute ? Methinks we should not : I am strongly moved, That if I should desire the Persian crown, I could attain it with a wondrous ease. And would not all our soldiers soon consent, If we should aim at such a dignity ? Ther. I know they would with our persuasions. Tamb. Why then, Theridamas, I'll first assay To get the Persian kingdom to myself; Then thou for Parthia ; they for Scythia and Media ; And, if I prosper, all shall be as sure As if the Turk, the Pope, Afric and Greece, Came creeping to us with their crowns apace. Tech. Then shall we send to this triumphing king, And bid him battle for his novel crown ? Usum. Nay, quickly then, before his room be hot. SCENE vi.] PART THE FIRST. 33 Tamb. 'Twill prove a pretty jest, in faith, my friends. Ther. A jest to charge on twenty thousand men ! J judge the purchase 1 more important far. Tamb. Judge by thyself, Theridamas, not me ; For presently Techelles here shall haste To bid him "battle ere he pass too far, And lose more labour than the game will quite. 2 Then shalt thou see this Scythian Tarnburlaine, Make but a jest to win the Persian crown. Techelles, take a thousand horse with thee, And bid him turn him back to war with us, That only made him king to make us sport. We will not steal upon him cowardly, But give him warning and more warriors. Haste thee, Techelles, we will follow thee. [Exit TECHELLES. What saith Theridamas ? Ther. Go on for me. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. Enter COSROE, MEANDER, ORTYGIUS, MENAPHON, with Soldiers. Cos. What means this devilish shepherd to aspire With such a giantly presumption To cast up hills against the face of Heaven, And dare the force of angry Jupiter ? But as he thrust them underneath the hills, And pressed out fire from their burning jaws, So will I send this monstrous slave to hell, Where flames shall ever feed upon his soul. 1 Plunder or loot. 2 Requite. Mar. D 34 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT 11. Meand. Some powers divine, or else infernal, mixed Their angry seeds at his conception ; For he was never sprung of human race, Since with the spirit of his fearful pride, He dare so doubtlessly resolve of rule, And by profession be ambitious. Orty. What god, or fiend, or spirit of the earth, Or monster turned to a manly shape, Or of what mould or mettle he be made, What star or fate soever govern him, Let us put on our meet encountering minds ; And in detesting such a devilish thief, In love of honour and defence of right, Be armed against the hate of such a foe, AVhether from earth, or hell, or Heaven, he grow, Cos. Nobly resolved, my good Ortygius ; And since we all have sucked one wholesome air, And with the same proportion of elements Resolve, I hope we are resembled Vowing our loves to equal death and life. Let's cheer our soldiers to encounter him, That grievous image of ingratitude, That fiery thirster after sovereignty, And burn him in the fury of that flame, That none can quench but blood and empery. Resolve, my lords and loving soldiers, no\v To save your king and country from decay. Then strike up, drum ; and all the stars that make The loathsome circle of my dated life, Direct my weapon to his barbarous heart, That thus opposeth him against the gods, And scorns the powers that govern Persia ! [Exeunt ; drums and trumpets son tiding. SCENE VII.] PART THE FIRST. 35 SCENE VII. Alarms of battle within. Enter COSROE, wounded, TAM- BURLAINE, THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, USUMCASANE, with ethers. Cos. Barbarous and bloody Tamburlaine, Thus to deprive me of my crown and life ! Treacherous and false Theridamas, Even at the morning of my happy state, Scarce being seated in my royal throne, To work my downfall and untimely end ! An uncouth pain torments my grieved soul, And death arrests the organ of my voice, Who, entering at the breach thy sword hath made, Sacks every vein and artier 1 of my heart. Bloody and insatiate Tamburlaine ! Tamb. The thirst of reign and sweetness of a crown That caused the eldest son of heavenly Ops, To thrust his doting father from his chair, And place himself in the empyreal Heaven, Moved me to manage arms against thy state. What better precedent than mighty Jove ? Nature that framed us of four elements, Warring within our breasts for regiment, 2 Doth teach us all to have aspiring minds : Our souls, whose faculties can comprehend The wondrous architecture of the world, And measure every wandering planet's course, Still climbing after knowledge infinite, And always moving as the restless spheres, Will us to wear ourselves, and never rest, Until we reach the ripest fruit of all, 1 Artery. 2 Rule. 36 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT it. That perfect bliss and sole felicity, The sweet fruition of an earthly crown. Thsr. And that made me to join with Tamburlaine : For he is gross and like the massy earth, That moves not upwards, nor by princely deeds Doth mean to soar above the highest sort. Tech. And that made us the friends of Tamburlain?, To lift our swords against the Persian king. Usum. For as when Jove did thrust old Saturn down, Neptune and Dis gained each of them a crown, So do we hope to reign in Asia, If Tamburlaine be placed in Persia. Cos. The strangest men that ever nature made ! I know not how to take their tyrannies. My bloodless body waxeth chill and cold, And with my blood my life slides through my wound j My soul begins to take her flight to hell, And summons all my senses to depart. The heat and moisture, which did feed each other, For want of nourishment to feed them both, Are dry and cold ; and now doth ghastly death, With greedy talons gripe my bleeding heart, And like a harpy tires ' on my life. Theridamas and Tamburlaine, I die : And fearful vengeance light upon you both ! [COSROE dies. TAMBURLAINE takes his crown and puts it on. Tamb. Not all the curses which the Furies breathe, Shall make me leave so rich a prize as this. Theridamas, Techelles, and the rest, Who think you now is King of Persia ? All. Tamburlaine ! Tamburlaine ! 1 Preys. A term in falconry. SCENE VII.] PART THE FIRST. 37 Tamb. Though Mars himself, the angry god of arms, And all the earthly potentate's conspire To dispossess me of this diadem, Yet will I wear it in despite of them, As great commander of this eastern world, If you but say that Tamburlaine shall reign. All. Long live Tamburlaine and reign in Asia ! Tamb. So now it is more surer on my head, Than if the gods had held a parliament, And all pronounced me King of Persia. [Exeunt. ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. Enter BAJAZETH, the KINGS of FEZ, MOROCCO, and ARGIER/ with others in great pomp. AJ. Great Kings of Barbary and my portly bassoes, 2 "\Ve hear the Tartars and the eastern thieves, Under the conduct of one Tambur- laine, Presume a bickering with your emperor, And think to rouse us from our dreadful siege Of the famous Grecian Constantinople. You know our army is invincible ; As many circumcised Turks we have, And warlike bands of Christians renied, 3 As hath the ocean or the Terrene sea 4 Small drops of water when the moon begins To join in one her semicircled horns. Yet would we not be braved with foreign power, Nor raise our siege before the Grecians yield, Or breathless lie before the city walls. K. of Fez. Renowned Emperor, and mighty general, 1 Algiers. 2 Bashaws or Pashas. 3 Christians who have abjured their faith. Fr. renter t 4 The Mediterranean. SCENE I.] PART THE FIRST. 39 What, if you sent the bassoes of your guard To charge him to remain in Asia, Or else to threaten death and deadly arms As from the mouth of mighty Bajazeth. Baj. Hie thee, my basso, fast to Persia, Tell him thy Lord, the Turkish Emperor, Dread Lord of Afric, Europe, and Asia, Great King and conqueror of Grsecia, The ocean, Terrene, and the Coal-black sea, 1 The high and highest monarch of the world Wills and commands (for say not I entreat), Not once to set his foot on Africa, Or spread his colours once in Grsecia, Lest he incur the fury of my wrath. Tell him I am content to take a truce, Because I hear he bears a valiant mind : But if, presuming on his silly power, He be so mad to manage arms with me, Then stay thou with him ; say, I bid thee so : And if, before the sun have measured Heaven With triple circuit, thou regreet us not, We mean to take his morning's next arise For messenger he will not be reclaimed, And mean to fetch thee in despite of him. Bas. Most great and puissant monarch of the earth, Your basso will accomplish your behest, And show your pleasure to the Persian, As fits the legate of the stately Turk. [Exit, K. of Arg, They say he is the King of Persia ; But, if he dare attempt to stir your siege, 'Twere requisite he should be ten times more, For all flesh quakes at your magnificence. Baj. True, Argier ; and trembles at my looks. 1 The Black Sea. 40 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT in. K. of Mor. The spring is hindeied by your smother- ing host, For neither rain can fall upon the earth, Nor sun reflex his virtuous beams thereon, The ground is mantled with such multitudes. Baj. All this is true as holy Mahomet ; And all the trees are blasted with our breaths. K. of Fez. What thinks your greatness best to be achieved In pursuit of the city's overthrow ? Baj. I will the captive pioners of Argier Cut off the water that by leaden pipes Runs to the city from the mountain Carnon. Two thousand horse shall forage up and down, That no relief or succour come by land : And ail the sea my galleys countermand. Then shall our footmen lie within the trench, And with their cannons mouthed like Orcus' gulf, Batter the walls, and we will enter in ; And thus the Grecians shall be conquered. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Enter ZEXOCRATE, AGYDAS, ANIPPE, with ethers. Agyd. Madam Zenocrate, may I presume To know the cause of these unquiet fits, That work such trouble to your wonted rest ? 'Tis more than pity such a heavenly face Should by heart's sorrow wax so wan and pale, When your offensive rape by Tamburlaine, (Which of your whole displeasures should be most,) Hath seemed to be digested long ago. SCEXE II.] PART THE FIRST. 41 Zeno. Although it be digested long ago, As his exceeding favours have deserved, And might content the Queen of Heaven, as well As it hath changed my first conceived disdain, Yet since a farther passion feeds my thoughts With ceaseless and disconsolate conceits, Which dyes my looks so lifeless as they are, And might, if my extremes had full events, Make me the ghastly counterfeit of death. Agyd. Eternal heaven sooner be dissolved, And all that pierceth Phoebus' silver eye, Before such hap fall to Zenocrate ! Zerw: Ah, life and soul, still hover in his breast And leave my body senseless as the earth. Or else unite you to his life and soul, That I may live and die with Tamburlaine ! Enter, behind, TAMBURLAINE, TECHELLES, and others. Agyd. With Tamburlaine ! Ah, fair Zenocrate, Let not a man so vile and barbarous, That holds you from your father in despite, And keeps you from the honours of a queen, (Being supposed his worthless concubine,) Be honoured with your love but for necessity. So, now the mighty Soldan hears of you, Your highness needs not doubt but in short time He will with Tamburlaine's destruction Redeem you from this deadly servitude. Zeno. Agydas leave to wound me with these words, And speak of Tamburlaine as he deserves. The entertainment we have had of him Is far from villany 1 or servitude, And might in noble minds be counted princely. 1 Subjection. 42 TAMBURLA1NE THE GREAT. [ACT in. Agyd, How can you fancy one that looks so fierce, Only disposed to martial stratagems ? Who, when he shall embrace you in his arms, Will tell you how many thousand men he slew ; And when you look for amorous discourse, Will rattle forth his facts l of war and blood, Too harsh a subject for your dainty ears. Zeno. As looks the Sun through Nilus' flowing stream, Or when the Morning holds him in her arms, So looks my lordly love, fair Tamburlaine ; His talk much sweeter than the Muses' song They sung for honour 'gainst Pierides ; Or when Minerva did with Neptune strive : And higher would I rear my estimate Than Juno, sister to the highest god, If I were matched with mighty Tamburlaine. Agyd. Yet be not so inconstant in your love ; But let the young Arabian live in hope After your rescue to enjoy his choice. You see though first the King of Persia, Being a shepherd, seemed to love you much, Now in his majesty he leaves those looks, Those words of favour, and those comfortings, And gives no more than common courtesies. Zeno. Thence rise the tears that so distain my cheeks Fearing his love through my unworthiness. [TAMBURLAINE goes to her and takes her away lovingly by the hand, looking -wrathfully on AGYD AS. Exeunt all but AGYD AS. Agyd. Betrayed by fortune and suspicious love, Threatened with frowning wrath and jealousy, Surprised with fear of hideous revenge, I stand aghast; but most astonied 2 1 Deeds. - Astonished. A common word with our early writers. SCENE II.] PART THE FIRST. 43 To see his cholershut in secret thoughts, And wrapt in silence of his angry soul. Upon his brows was pourtrayed ugly death ; And in his eyes the furies of his heart That shone as comets, menacing revenge, And cast a pale complexion on his cheeks. As when the seaman sees the Hyades Gather an army of Cimmerian clouds, (Auster and Aquilon with winged steeds, All sweating, tilt about the watery Heavens, With shivering spears enforcing thunder claps, And from their shields strike flames of lightning,) All-fearful folds his sails and sounds the main, Lifting his prayers to the Heavens for aid Against the terror of the winds and waves, So fares Agydas for the late-felt frowns, That sent a tempest to my daunted thoughts, And make my soul divine her overthrow. Re-enter TECHELLES with a naked dagger, followed by USU.MCASANE. Tech. See you, Agydas, how the king salutes you ? He bids you prophesy what it imports. Agyd. I prophesied before, and now I prove The killing frowns of jealousy and love. He needed not with words confirm my fear, For words are vain where working tools present The naked action of my threatened end : It says, Agydas, thou shall surely die, And of extremities elect the least ; More honour and less pain it may procure To die by this resolved hand of thine, Than stay the torments he and Heaven have sworn. Then haste, Agydas, and prevent the plagues 44 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT in. Which thy prolonged fates may draw ow thee. Go, wander, free from fear of tyrant's rage, Removed from the torments and the hell, Wherewith he may excruciate thy soul, And let Agydas by Agydas die, And with this stab slumber eternally. \_Stabs kirns. If. Tech. Usumcasane, see, how right the man Hath hit the meaning of my lord, the king. Usum. Taith, and Techelles, it was manly done ; And since he was so wise and honourable, Let us afford him now the bearing hence, And crave his triple-worthy burial. Tech. Agreed, Casane ; we will honour him. [Exeunt bearing out the body. SCENE III. Enter TAMBURLAINE, TECHELLES, USUMCASAXE, THERI- DAMAS, a Basso, ZEXOCRATE, AXIPPE, with others. Tamb. Basso, by this thy lord and master knows I mean to meet him in Bithynia : See how he comes ! tush, Turks are full of brags, And menace more than they can well perform. He meet me in the field, and fetch thee hence ! Alas ! poor Turk ! his fortune is too weak To encounter with the strength of Tamburlaine. View well my camp, and speak indifferently ; Do not my captains and my soldiers look As if they meant to conquer Africa ? Bas. Your men are valiant, but their number few, And cannot terrify his mighty host. SCENE in.] PART THE FIRST, 45 My lord, the great commander of the world, Besides fifteen contributory kings, Hath now in arms ten thousand Janissaries, Mounted on lusty Mauritanian -steeds, Brought to the war by men of Tripoli ; Two hundred thousand footmen that have served In two set battles fought in Graecia ; And for the expedition of this war, If he think good, can from his garrisons Withdraw as many more to follow him. Tech. The more he brings the greater is the spoil, For when they perish by our warlike hands, We mean to set our footmen on their steeds, And rifle all those stately Janisars. Tamb. But will those kings accompany your lord ? Bas. Such as his highness please ; but some must stay To rule the provinces he late subdued. Tamb. \To his Officers.] Then fight courageously : their crowns are yours ; This hand shall set them on your conquering heads, That made me Emperor of Asia. Usum. Let him bring millions infinite of men, Unpeopling Western Africa and Greece, Yet we assure us of the victory. Thi r. Even he that in a trice vanquished two kings, More mighty than the Turkish emperor, Shall rouse him out of Europe, and pursue His scattered army till they yield or die. Tainb. Well said, Theridamas ; speak in that mood ; For will and shall best fitteth Tamburlaine, Whose smiling stars give him assured hope Of martial triumph ere he meet his foes. I that am termed the scourge and wrath of God, The only fear and terror of the world. 46 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT in. Will first subdue the Turk, and then enlarge Those Christian captives, which you keep as slaves, Burthening their bodies with your heavy chains, And feeding them with thin and slender fare ; That naked row about the Terrene sea, And when they chance to rest or breathe a space, Are punished with bastones l so grievously, That they lie panting on the galley's side, And strive for life at every stroke they give. These are the cruel pirates of Argier, That damned train, the scum of Africa, Inhabited with straggling runagates, That make quick havoc of the Christian blood ; But as I live that town shall curse the time That Tamburlaine set foot in Africa. Enter BAJAZETH with his Bassoes, the KINGS of FEZ, MOROCCO, and ARGIER. ZABINA and EBEA. Baj. Bassoes and Janissaries of my guard, Attend upon the person of your lord, The greatest potentate of Africa. Tamb. Techelles, and the rest, prepare your swords ; I mean to encounter with that Bajazeth. Baj. Kings of Fez, Moroccus, and Argier, He calls me Bajazeth, whom you call lord ! Note the presumption of this Scythian slave ! I tell thee, villain, those that lead my horse, Have to their names titles of dignity, And dar'st thou bluntly call me Bajazeth ? Tamb. And know, thou Turk, that those which lead my horse, Shall lead thee captive thorough Africa ; And dar'st thou bluntly call me Tamburlaine ? 1 Sticks. Ital. lastonc. SCENE III.] PART THE FIRST. 47, Baj. By Mahomet my kinsman's sepulchre, And by the holy Alcoran I swear, He shall be made a chaste and lustless eunuch, And in my sarell l tend my concubines ; And all his captains that thus stoutly stand, Shall draw the chariot of my emperess, Whom I have brought to see their overthrow. Tamb. By this my sword, that conquered Persia, Thy fall shall make me famous through the world. I will not tell thee how I'll handle thee/ But every common soldier of my camp Shall smile to see thy miserable state. K. of Fez. What means the mighty Turkish emperor, To talk with one so base as Tamburlaine ? K. of Mor. Ye Moors and valiant men of Barbary, How can ye suffer these indignities ? K. of Arg. Leave words, and let them feel your lances' points Which glided through the bowels of the Greeks. Baj. Well said, my stout contributory kings : Your threefold army and my hugy - host Shall swallow up these base-born Persians. Tech. Puissant, renowned, and mighty Tamburlaine, Why stay we thus prolonging of their lives ? Ther. I long to see those crowns won by our swords, That we may rule as kings of Africa. Usum. What coward would not fight for such a prize ? Tamb. Fight all courageously, and be you kings ; I speak it, and my words are oracles. Baj. Zabina, mother of three braver boys Than Hercules, that in his infancy Did pash 3 the jaws of serpents venomous ; Whose hands are made to gripe a warlike lance, 1 Seraglio. Fr. serai/. - Huge. 3 Dash to pieces. 48 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT, [ACT ill. Their shoulders broad for complete armour fit, Their limbs more large, and of a bigger size, Than all the brats ysprung from Typhon's loins ; Who, when they come unto their father's age, Will batter turrets with their manly fists ; Sit here upon this royal chair of state, And on thy head wear my imperial crown, Until I bring this sturdy Tamburlaine, And all his captains bound in captive chains. Zab. Such good success happen to Bajazeth ! Tamb, Zenocrate, the loveliest maid alive, Fairer than rocks of pearl and precious stone, The only paragon of Tamburlaine, Whose eyes are brighter than the lamps of Heaven, And speech more pleasant than sweet harmony ! That with thy looks canst clear the darkened sky, And calm the rage of thundering Jupiter, Sit down by her, adorned with my crown, As if thou wert the Empress of the world. Stir not, Zenocrate, until thou see Me march victoriously with all my men, Triumphing over him and these his kings ; "Which I will bring as vassals to thy feet ; Till then take thou my crown, vaunt of my worth, And manage words with her, as we will arms. Zeno. And may my love the King of Persia, Return with victory and free from wound ! Baj. Now shalt thou feel the force of Turkish arms, W'hich lately made all Europe quake for fear. I have of Turks, Arabians, Moors, and Jews, Enough to cover all Bithynia. Let thousands die ; their slaughtered carcasses Shall serve for walls and bulwarks to the rest And as the heads of Hydra, so my power, SCENE in.] PART THE FIRST. 49 Subdued, shall stand as mighty as before. If they should yield their necks unto the sword, Thy soldiers' arms could not endure to strike So many blows as I have heads for thee. Thou know'st not, foolish, hardy Tamburlaine, What 'tis to meet me in the open field, That leave no ground for thee to march upon. Tamb. Our conquering swords shall marshal us the way We use to march upon the slaughtered foe, Trampling their bowels with our horses' hoofs ; Brave horses bred on th' white Tartarian hills ; My camp is like to Julius Csesar's host, That never fought but had the victory ; Nor in Pharsalia was there such hot war, As these, my followers, willingly would have. Legions of spirits fleeting l in the air Direct our bullets and our weapons' points, And make your strokes to wound the senseless lure, " And when she sees our bloody colours spread, Then Victory begins to take her flight, Resting herself upon my milk-white tent ? But come, my lords, to weapons let us fall ; The field is ours, the Turk, his wife and all. \_Exit with his followers. JBaj. Come, kings and bassoes, let us glut our swords, That thirst to drink the feeble Persians' blood. {Exit with his followers, Zab, Base concubine, must thou be placed by me, That am the empress of the mighty Turk ? 1 Floating. 2 Here "lure" most probably means "light," (Fr. Incur} ; still it may refer to a well-krrown term in falconry, signifying a decoy, formed of leather and feathers, used to call the young hawks, and which, when thrown into the air, had the appearance of a flying birdi Mar. E 50 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT in. Zeno. Disdainful Turkess and unreverend boss ! ' Call'st thou me concubine, that am betrothed Unto the great and mighty Tamburlaine ? Zab. To Tamburlaine, the great Tartarian thief ! Zeno, Thou wilt repent these lavish words of thine, When thy great basso-master and thyself Must plead for mercy at his kingly feet, And sue to me to be your advocate. Zab. And sue to thee ! I tell thee, shameless girl, Thou shalt be laundress to my waiting maid ! How lik'st thou her, Ebea ? Will she serve? Ebea. Madam, perhaps, she thinks she is too fine, But I shall turn her into other weeds, And make her dainty fingers fall to work, Zeno. Hear'st thou, Anippe, how thy drudge doth talk ? And how my slave, her mistress, menaceth ? Both for their sauciness shall be employed To dress the common soldiers' meat and drink, For we will scorn they should come near ourselves. Anip. Yet sometimes let your highness send for them To do the work my chambermaid disdains. \They sound to the battle wit Inn. Zeno. Ye gods and powers that govern Persia, And made my lordly love her worthy king, Now strengthen him against the Turkish Bajazeth, And let his foes, like flocks of fearful roes Pursued by hunters, fly his angry looks, That I may see him issue conqueror ! Zab. Now, Mahomet, solicit God himself, And make him rain down murdering shot from Heaven To dash the Scythians' brains, and strike them dead, That dare to manage arms with him 1 Cotgr.ive in his Dictionary has : " A fat bosse. Fein me bien grasse et grosse; line cache.''' SCENE in.] PART THE FIRST. 51 That offered jewels to thy sacred shrine, When first he warred against the Christians ! \_They sound again to the battle within. Zeno. By this the Turks lie weltering in their blood, And Tamburlaine is Lord of Africa. Zab, Thou art deceived. I heard the trumpets sound, As when my emperor overthrew the Greeks, And led them captive into Africa. Straight will I use thee as thy pride deserves Prepare thyself to live and die my slave. Zeno. If Mahomet should come from Heaven and swear My royal lord is slain or conquered, Yet should he not persuade me otherwise But that he lives and will be conqueror. Re-enter BAJAZETH, pursued by TAMBURLAINE; they fight ', and BAJAZETH is overcome. Tamb. Now, king of bassoes, who is conqueror? Baj. Thou, by the fortune of this damned foil. 1 Tamb. Where are your stout contributory kings? Re enter TECHELLES, THERIDAMAS, and USUMCASANE. Tech. We have their crowns their bodies strow the field. Tamb. Each man a crou n ! Why kingly fought i' faith. Deliver them into my treasury. Zeno. Now let me offer to my gracious lord His royal crown again so highly won. Tamb. Nay, take the crown from her, Zenocrate, And crown me Emperor of Africa, Zab. No, Tamburlaine : though now thou gat the best, Thou shalt not yet be lord of Africa. 1 Defeat. E 2 $2 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT in. Thcr. Give her the crown, Turkess : you were best. \Hc takes it from her. Zab. Injurious villains ! thieves ! runagates ! Plow dare you thus abuse my majesty ? Ther. Here, madam, you are Empress; she is none. [Gives it to ZENOCRATE. Tamb. Not now, Theridamas ; her time is past. The pillars that have bolstered up those terms, Are fallen in clusters at my conquering feet. Zab. Though he be prisoner, he may be ransomed. Tamb. Not all the world shall ransom Bajazeth. Baj. Ah, fair Zabina ! we have lost the field ; And never had the Turkish emperor So great a foil by any foreign foe. Now will the Christian miscreants be glad, Ringing with joy their superstitious bells, And making bonfires for my overthrow. But, ere I die, those foul idolaters Shall make me bonfires with their filthy bones. For though the glory of this day be lost, Afric and Greece have garrisons enough To make me sovereign of the earth again. Tamb. Those walled garrisons will I subdue, And write myself great lord of Africa. So from the East unto the furthest West Shall Tamburlaine extend his puissant arm. The galleys and those pilling : brigandines, That yearly sail to the Venetian gulf, And hover in the Straits for Christians' wreck, Shall lie at anchor in the isle Asant, 2 Until the Persian fleet and men of war, Sailing along the oriental sea, Have fetched about the Indian continent, 1 Plundering. 2 Zante. Sullen, SCENE III.] PART THE FIRST. 53 Even from Persepolis to Mexico, And thence unto the straits of Jubalter ; l Where they shall meet and join their force in one Keeping in awe the bay of Portingale, 2 And all the ocean by the British shore ; And by this means I'll win the world at last. Baj. Yet set a ransom on me, Tamburlaine. Tainli. What, think'st thou Tamburlaine esteems thy gold? I'll make the kings of India, ere I die, Offer their mines to sue for peace to me, And dig for treasure to appease my wrath. Come, bind them both, and one lead in the Turk ; The Turkess let my love's maid lead away. [ They bind than. Baj. Ah, villains ! dare you touch my sacred arms ? O Mahomet ! O sleepy Mahomet ! Zab. O cursed Mahomet, that makes us thus The slaves to Scythians rude and barbarous ! Tamb. Come, bring them in ; and for this happy conquest, Triumph and solemnise a martial feast. [Excunf. 1 Gibraltar. 2 Biscay. ACT THE FOURTH. SCENE I. Enter the SOLDAN of EGYPT, CAPOLIN, Lords, and a Messenger. :OLD. Awake, ye men of Memphis ! hear the clang- Of Scythian trumpets ! hear the basilisks, 1 That, roaring, shake Damascus' turrets down ! The rogue of Volga holds Zenocrate, The Soldan's daughter, for his concubine, And with a troop of thieves and vagabonds, Hath spread his colours to our high disgrace, While you, faint-hearted, base Egyptians, Lie slumbering on the flowery banks of Nile, As crocodiles that unaffrighted rest, While thundering cannons rattle on their skins. Mess. Nay, mighty Soldan, did your greatness see The frowning looks of fiery Tamburlaine, That with his terror and imperious eyes, Commands the hearts of his associates, It might amaze your royal majesty. Sold. Villain, I tell thee, were that Tamburlaine 1 Pieces of ordnance, so called from their fancied resemblance to the fabulous serpent of that name. Cunningham, SCENE I.] PART THE FUIST. 55 As monstrous as Gorgon l prince of hell, The Soldan would not start a foot from him. But speak, what power hath he ? Mess. Mighty lord, Three hundred thousand men in armour clad, Upon their prancing steeds disdainfully, With wanton paces trampling on the ground : Five hundred thousand footmen threatening shot, Shaking their swords, their spears, and iron bills, Environing their standard round, that stood As bristle-pointed as a thorny wood : Their warlike engines and munition Exceed the forces of their martial men. Sold. Nay, could their numbers countervail the stars, Or ever-drizzling drops of April showers, Or withered leaves that Autumn shaketh down, Yet would the Soldan by his conquering power So scatter and consume them in his rage, That not a man should live to rue their fall. Capo. So might your highness, had you time to sort Your fighting men, and raise your royal host ; But Tamburlaine, by expedition, Advantage takes of your unreadiness. Sold. Let him take all the advantages he can. Were all the world conspired to fight for him, Nay, were he devil, as he is no man, Yet in revenge of fair Zenocrate, Whom he detaineth in despite of us, This arm should send him down to Erebus, To shroud his shame in darkness of the night. Mess. Pleaseth your mightiness to understand", His resolution far exceedeth all. The first day when he pitcheth down his tents, 1 i.e. Demogorgon. 56 TAMDURLA1NE THE GREAT. [ACT iv. White is their hue, and on his silver crest, A snowy feather spangled white he bears, To signify the mildness of his mind, That, satiate with spoil, refuseth blood. But when Aurora mounts the second time As red as scarlet is his furniture ; Then must his kindled wrath be quenched with blood, Not sparing any that can manage arms ; But if these threats move not submission, Black are his colours, black pavilion ; His spear, his shield, his horse, his armour, plumes, And jetty feathers, menace death and hell ! Without respect of sex, degree, or age, He razeth all his foes with fire and sword. Sola'. Merciless villain ! peasant, ignorant Of lawful arms or martial discipline ! Pillage and murder are his usual trades. The slave usurps the glorious name of war. See, Capolin, the fair Arabian king, That hath been disappointed by this slave Of my fair daughter, and his princely love, May have fresh warning to go war with us, And be revenged for her disparagement. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Enter TAMBURLAINE, TECHELLES, THERIDAMAS, Usr.xr- CASANE, ZENOCRATE, ANIPPE, two Moors drawing BAJAZETH in a cage, and r L.\v\^h following him. Tamb. Bring out my footstool. [BAJAZETH is taken out of tlie cage. Baj. Ye holy priests of heavenly Mahomet, SCENE II.] PART THE FIRST. 57 That, sacrificing, slice and cut your flesh, Staining his altars with your purple blood ; Make Heaven to frown and every fixed star To suck up poison from the moorish fens, And pour it in this glorious 1 tyrant's throat ! Tamb. The chiefest God, first mover of that sphere, Enchased with thousands ever-shining lamps, Will sooner burn the glorious frame of Heaven, Than it should so conspire my overthrow. But, villain ! thou that wishest this to me, Fall prostrate on the low disdainful earth, And be the footstool of great Tamburlaine, That I may rise into my royal throne. Baj. First shalt thou rip my bowels with thy sword, And sacrifice my soul to death and hell, Before I yield to such a slavery. Tamb. Base villain, vassal, slave to Tamburlaine ! Unworthy to embrace or touch the ground, That bears the honour of my royal weight ; Stoop, villain, stoop ! Stoop ! for so he bids That may command thee piecemeal to be torn, Or scattered like the lofty cedar trees Struck with the voice of thundering Jupiter. Baj. Then, as I look down to the damned fiends, Fiends look on me ! and thou, dread god of hell, With ebon sceptre strike this hateful earth, And make it swallow both of us at once ! [TAMBURLAINE steps upon him to mount his throne. Tamb. Now clear the triple region of the air, And let the majesty of Heaven behold Their scourge and terror tread on emperors. Smile stars, that reigned at my nativity, And dim the brightness of your neighbour lamps ! 1 Boastful. 58 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT, [ACT iv. Disdain to borrow light of Cynthia ! For I, the chiefest lamp of all the earth, First rising in the East with mild aspect, But fixed now in the meridian line, Will send up fire to your turning spheres, And cause the sun to borrow light of you. My sword struck fire from his coat of steel, Even in Bithynia, when I took this Turk ; As when a fiery exhalation, Wrapt in the bowels of a freezing cloud Fighting for passage, makes the welkin crack, And casts a flash of lightning to the earth : But ere I march to wealthy Persia, Or leave Damascus and the Egyptian fields, As was the fame of Clymene's brain sick son, That almost brent the axle-tree of Heaven, So shall our swords, our lances, and our shot Fill all the air with fiery meteors : Then when the sky shall wax as red as blood It shall be said I made it red myself, To make me think of nought but blood and war. Zab. Unworthy king, that by thy cruelty Unlawfully usurp'st the Persian seat, Dar'st thou that never saw an emperor, Before thou met my husband in the field, Being thy captive, thus abuse his state, Keeping his kingly body in a cage, That roofs of gold and sun-bright palaces Should have prepared to entertain his grace ? And treading him beneath thy loathsome feet, Whose feet the kings of Africa have kissed. Tech. You must devise some torment worse, my lord, To make these captives rein their lavish tongues. Tamb. Zenocrate, look better to your slave. SCENE ii.] PART THE FIRST. 59 Zcno. She is my handmaid's slave, and she shall look That these abuses flow not from her tongue : Chide her, Anippe. Anip. Let these be warnings for you then, my slave, How you abuse the person of the king ; Or else I swear to have you whipt, stark-naked. Baj. Great Tamburlaine, great in my overthrow, Ambitious pride shall make thee fall as low, For treading on the back of Bajazeth, That should be horsed on four mighty kings. Tamb. Thy names, and titles, and thy dignities Are fled from Bajazeth and remain with me, That will maintain it 'gainst a world of kings. Put him in again. \They put him back into the cage. Baj. Is this a place for mighty Bajazeth ? Confusion light on him that helps thee thus ! Tamb. There, whiles he live-, shall Bajazeth be kept ; And, where I go, be thus in triumph drawn ; And thou, his wife, shalt feed him with the scraps My servitors shall bring thee from my board ; For he that gives him other food than this, Shall sit by him and starve to death himself; This is my mind and I will have it so. Not all the kings and emperors of the earth, If they would lay their crowns before my feet, Shall ransom him, or take him from his cage. The ages that shall talk of Tamburlaine, Even from this day to Plato's wondrous year, 1 Shall talk how I have handled Bajazeth ; These Moors, that drew him from Bithynia, To fair Damascus, where we now remain, Shall lead him with us wheresoe'er we go. Techelles, and my loving followers, 1 See Plato's Tiiiucns, 6o TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT iv. Now may we see Damascus' lofty towers, Like to the shadows of Pyramides, That with their beauties grace the Memphian fields : The golden statue of their feathered bird That spreads her wings upon the city's walls Shall not defend it from our battering shot : The townsmen mask in silk and cloth of gold, And every house is as a treasury : The men, the treasure, and the town is ours. Thcr. Your tents of white now pitched b efore the gates, And gentle flags of amity displayed, I doubt not but the governor will yield, Offering Damascus to your majesty. Tamb. So shall he have his life and all the rest : But if he stay until the bloody flag Be once advanced on my vermilion tent, He dies, and those that kept us out so long. And when they see us march in black array, With mournful streamers hanging down their heads, Were in that city all the world contained, Not one should 'scape, but perish by our swords. Zeno. Yet would you have some pity for my sake, Because it is my country, and my father's. Tamb. Not for the world, Zenocrate ; I've sworn. Come ; bring in the Turk. {Exeunt. SCENE III. Enter the SOLDAN, the KING of ARABIA, CAPOLIN, and Soldiers with colours flying. Sold. Methinks we march as Meleager did, Environed with brave Argolian knights, SCENE in.] PART THE FIRST. 61 To chase the savage Calydonian boar, Or Cephalus with lusty Theban youths Against the wolf that angry Themis sent To waste and spoil the sweet Aonian fields, A monster of five hundred thousand heads, Compact of rapine, piracy, and spoil. The scum of men, the hate and scourge of God, Raves in ^Egyptia and annoyeth us. My lord, it is the bloody Tamburlaine, A sturdy felon and a base-bred thief, By murder raised to the Persian crown, That dares control us in our territories. To tame the pride of this presumptuous beast, Join your Arabians with the Soldan's power, Let us unite our royal bands in one, And hasten to remove Damascus' siege. It is a blemish to the majesty And high estate of mighty emperors, That such a base usurping vagabond Should brave a king, or wear a princely crown. K, of Arab. Renowned Soldan, have you lately heard The overthrow of mighty Bajazeth About the confines of Bithynia ? The slavery wherewith he persecutes The noble Turk and his great emperess ? Sold. I have, and sorrow for his bad success ; But noble lord of great Arabia, Be so persuaded that the Soldan is No more dismayed with tidings of his fall, Than in the haven when the pilot stands, And views a stranger's ship rent in the winds, And shivered against a craggy rock ; Yet in compassion to his wretched state, A sacred vow to Heaven and him I make, 62 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT iv. Confirming it with Ibis' holy name. That Tamburlaine shall rue the day, the hour, Wherein he wrought such ignominious wrong Unto the hallowed person of a prince, Or kept the fair Zenocrate so long As concubine, I fear, to feed his lust. K. of Arab. Let grief and fury hasten on revenge ; Let Tamburlaine for his offences feel Such plagues as we and Heaven can pour on him. I long to break my spear upon his crest, And prove the weight of his victorious arm ; For Fame, I fear, hath been too prodigal In sounding through the world his partial praise. Sold. Capolin, hast thou surveyed our powers ? Capo!. Great Emperors of Egypt and Arabia, The number of your hosts united is A hundred and fifty thousand horse ; Two hundred thousand foot, brave men-at-arms, Courageous, and full of hardiness. As frolic as the hunters in the chase Of savage beasts amid the desert woods. K. of Arab. My mind presageth fortunate success; And Tamburlaine, my spirit doth foresee The utter ruin of thy men and thee. Sold. Then rear your standards ; let your sounding drums Direct our soldiers to Damascus' walls. Now, Tamburlaine, the mighty Soldan comes, And leads with him the great Arabian king, To dim thy baseness and obscurity, Famous for nothing but for theft and spoil ; To raze and scatter thy inglorious crew Of Scythians and slavish Persians. \Excitnt. SCENE iv.] PART THE FIRST. 63 SCENE IV. A Banquet set out ; to it come TAMBURI.AINE, all in scarlet ZENOCRATE, THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, USUMCA- SANE, BAJAZETH in his cage, ZABINA, and others. Tamb. Now hang our bloody colours by Damascus, Reflexing hues of blood upon their heads, While they walk quivering on their city walls, Half dead for fear before they feel my wrath, Then let us freely banquet and carouse Full bowls of wine unto the god of war That means to fill your helmets full of gold, And make Damascus spoils as rich to you, As was to Jason Colchos' golden fleece. And now, Bajazeth, hast thou any stomach? Baj. Ay, such a stomach, cruel Tamburlaine, as I could willingly feed upon thy blood -raw heart. Tamb. Nay thine own is easier to come by; pluck out that : and 'twill serve thee and thy wife : Well, Zeno- crate, Techelles, and the rest, fall to your victuals. Baj. Fall to, and never may your meat digest ! Ye Furies, that can mask invisible, Dive to the bottom of Avernus''pool, And in your hands bring hellish poison up And squeeze it in the cup of Tamburlaine ! Or, winged snakes of Lerna, cast your stings, And leave your venoms in this tyrant's dish ! Zab. And may this banquet prove as ominous As Progne's ! to the adulterous Thracian king, That fed upon the substance of his child. Zeno. My lord, how can you tamely suffer these Outrageous curses by these slaves of yours ? 1 i.e. Procnc. 64 TAMBURLA1NE THE GREAT. [ACT iv. Tamb. To let them see, divine Zenocrate, I glory in the curses of my foes, Having the power from the imperial Heaven To turn them all upon their proper heads. Tech. I pray you give them leave, madam ; this speech is a goodly refreshing to them. Ther. But if his highness would let them be fed, it would do them more good. Tamb. Sirrah, why fall you not to ? are you so daintily brought up, you cannot eat your own flesh ? - Baj. First, legions of devils shall tear thee in pieces. Usiun. Villain, know'st thou to whom thou speakest ? Tamb. O, let him alone. Here; eat, sir; take it from my sword's point, or I'll thrust it to thy heart. [BAJAZETH takes it and stamps upon it. Ther. He stamps it under his feet, my lord. Tamb. Take it up, villain, and eat it ; or I will make thee slice the brawns of thy arms into carbonadoes ' and eat them. Usum, Nay, 'twere better he killed his wife, and then she shall be sure not to be starved, and he be provided for a month's victual beforehand. Tamb. Here is my dagger : despatch her while she is fat, for if she live but a while longer, she will fall into a consumption with fretting, and then she will not be worth the eating. Ther. Dost thou think that Mahomet will suffer this ? Tech, 'Tis like he will when he cannot let 2 it. Tamb. Go to ; fall to your meat. What, not a bit ! Belike he hath not been watered to day; give him some drink. \They give BAJAZETH water to drink, and he flings it upon the ground. 1 Rashers. * Hinder. SCENE IV.] PART THE FIRST. 65 Tamb. Fast, and welcome, sir, while 1 hunger make you eat. How now, Zenocrate, do not the Turk and his wife make a goodly show at a banquet ? Zeno. Yes, my lord. Ther. Methinks, 'tis a great deal better than a consort 2 of music. Tamb. Yet music would do well to cheer up Zenocrate. Pray thee, tell, why thou art so sad ? If thou wilt have a song, the Turk shall strain his voice. But why is it ? Zeno, My lord, to see my father's town besieged, The country wasted where myself was born, How can it but afflict my very soul ? If any love remain in you, my lord, Or if my love unto your majesty May merit favour at your highness' hands, Then raise your siege from fair Damascus' walls, And with my father take a friendly truce. Tamb. Zenocrate, were Egypt Jove's own land, Yet would I with my sword make Jove to stoop. I will confute those blind geographers That make a triple region in the world, Excluding regions which I mean to trace, And with this pen 3 reduce them to a map, Calling the provinces cities and towns, After my name and thine, Zenocrate. Here at Damascus will I make the point That shall begin the perpendicular And would'st thou have me buy thy father's love With such a loss ? Tell me, Zenocrate. Zeno. Honour still wait on happy Tamburlaine ; Yet give me leave to plead for him my lord. Tamb. Content thyself : his person shall be safe 1 Until. - Band. ;i Meaning his sword. Mar. F 66 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT iv. And all the friends of fair Zenocrate, If with their lives they may be pleased to yield, Or may be forced to make me Emperor ; For Egypt and Arabia must be mine. Feed, you slave ; thou may'st think thyself happy to be fed from my trencher. Baj. My empty stomach, full of idle heat, Draws bloody humours from my feeble parts, Preserving life by hastening cruel death. My veins are pale ; my sinews hard and dry ; My joints benumbed ; unless I eat, I die. Zab. Eat, Bajazeth : and let us live In spite of them, looking some happy power Will pity and enlarge us. Tamb. Here, Turk ; wilt thou have a clean trencher ? Baj. Ay, tyrant, and more meat. Tamb. Soft, sir ; you must be dieted ; too much eat- ing will make you surfeit. Tlier. So it would, my lord, 'specially having so small a walk and so little exercise. \A second course of crowns is brought vi. Tamb. Theridamas, Techelles, and Casane, here ate the cates you desire to finger, are they not ? Ther. Ay, my lord : but none save kings must feed with these. Tech. 'Tis enough for us to see them, and for Tam- burlaine only to enjoy them. Tamb. Well ; here is now to the Soldan of Egypt, the King of Arabia, and the Governor of Damascus. Now take these three crowns, and pledge me, my contributory kings. I crown ycu here, Theridamas, King of Argier ; Techelles, King of Fez ; and Usumcasane, King of Moroccus. How say you to this, Turk ? These are not your contributory kings. SCENE iv.] PART THE FIRST. 67 Baj. Nor shall they long be thine, I warrant them. Tamb. Kings of Argier, Moroccus, and of Fez, You that have marched with happy Tamburlaine As far as from the frozen plage ] of Heaven, Unto the watery morning's ruddy bower, And thence by land unto the torrid zone, Deserve these titles I endow you with, By valour and by magnanimity. Your births shall be no blemish to your fame, For virtue is the fount whence honour springs, And they are worthy she investeth kings. Ther. And since your highness hath so well vouch- safed ; If we deserve them not with higher meeds Than erst our states and actions have retained Take them away again and make us slaves. Tamb. Well said, Theridamas ; when holy fates Shall 'stablish me in strong /Egyptia, We mean to travel to the antarctic pole, Conquering the people underneath our feet, And be reno.vned as never emperors were. Zenocrate, I will not crown thee yet, Until with greater honours I be graced. \Exeunt. 1 Shore : Fr. plage. F 2 ACT THE FIFTH. SCENE I. Enter the GOVERNOR of DAMASCUS, with several Citizens, and four Virgins, having bi-anches of laurel in their hands. :OV. Still doth this man, or rather god of war, Batter our walls and beat our turrets down ; And to resist with, longer stubborn- ness Or hope of rescue from the Soldan's power, Were but to bring our wilful overthrow, And make us desperate of our threatened lives. We see his tents have now been altered With terrors to the last and cruellest hue. His coal-black colours everywhere advanced, Threaten our city with a general spoil ; And if we should with common rites of arms Offer our safeties to his clemency, I fear the custom, proper to his sword, Which he observes as parcel of his fame, Intending so to terrify the world, By any innovation or remorse Will never be dispensed with till our deaths ; SCENE I.] PART THE FIRST. 69 Therefore, for these our harmless virgins' sakes, Whose honours and whose lives rely on him, Let us have hope that their unspotted prayers, Their blubbered 1 cheeks, and hearty, humble moans, Will melt his fury into some remorse, 2 And use us like a loving conqueror. \st Virg, If humble suits or imprecations, 3 (Uttered with tears of wretchedness and blood Shed from the heads and hearts of all our sex, Some made your wives and some your children) Might have entreated your obdurate breasts To entertain some care of our securities Whiles only danger beat upon our walls. These more than dangerous warrants of our death Had never been erected as they be, Nor you depend on such weak helps as we. Gov. Well, lovely virgins, think our country's care, Our love of honour, loath to be inthralled To foreign powers and rough imperious yokes, Would not with too much cowardice or fear, (Before all hope of rescue were denied) Submit yourselves and us to servitude. Therefore in that your safeties and our own, Your honours, liberties, and lives were weighed In equal care and balance with our own, Endure as we the malice of our stars, The wrath of Tamburlaine and power of wars ; Or be the means the overweighing heavens Have kept to qualify these hot extremes, And bring us pardon in your cheerful looks. 2nd Virg. Then here before the majesty of Heaven And holy patrons of ^Egyptia, 1 The word formerly conveyed no kind of ludicrous impression. 2 Pity. 3 Prayers. 70 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT v. With knees and hearts submissive we entreat Grace to our words and pity to our looks That this device may prove propitious, And through the eyes and ears of Tamburlaine Convey events of mercy to his heart ; Grant that these signs of victory we yield May bind the temples of his conquering head, To hide the folded furrows of his brows, And shadow his displeased countenance With happy looks of ruth and lenity. Leave us, my lord, and loving countrymen ; What simple virgins may persuade, we will. Gov. Farewell, sweet virgins, on whose safe return Depends our city, liberty, and lives. {Exeunt GOVERNOR and Citizens ; the Virgins remain. Enter TAMBURLAINE, all in black and very melancholy, TECHELLES, THERIDAMAS, USUMCASANE, with others. Tamb. What, are the turtles frayed out of their nests ? Alas, poor fools ! must you be first shall feel The sworn destruction of Damascus? They knew my custom ; could they not as well Have sent ye out, when first my milk-white flags, Through which sweet Mercy threw her gentle beams, Reflexing them on your disdainful eyes, As now, when fury and incensed hate Flings slaughtering terror from my coal-black tents, And tells for truth submission comes too late ? \st Virg. Most happy King and Emperor of the earth, Image of honour and nobility, For whom the powers divine have made the world, And on whose throne the holy Graces sit; In whose sweet person is comprised the sum SCENE I.] PART THE FIRST. 71 Of Nature's skill and heavenly majesty; Pity our plights ! O pity poor Damascus ! Pity old age, within whose silver hairs Honour and reverence evermore have reigned ! Pity the marriage bed, where many a lord, In prime and glory of his loving joy, Embraceth now with tears of ruth and blood The jealous body of his fearful wife, Whose cheeks and hearts so punished with conceit, To think thy puissant, never-stayed arm, Will part their bodies, and prevent their souls From heavens of comfort yet their age might bear, Now wax all pale and withered to the death, As well for grief our ruthless governor Hath thus refused the mercy of thy hand, (Whose sceptre angels kiss and furies dread,) As for their liberties, their loves, or lives ! O then for these, and such as we ourselves, For us, our infants, and for all our bloods, That never nourished thought against thy rule, Pity, O pity, sacred Emperor, The prostrate service of this wretched town, And take in sign thereof this gilded wreath ; Whereto each man of rule hath given his hand, And wished, as worthy subjects, happy means To be investers of thy royal brows Even with the true Egyptian diadem ! Tamb. Virgins, in vain you labour to prevent That which mine honour swears shall be performed. Behold my sword ! what see you at the point ? ist Virg. Nothing but fear, and fatal steel, my lord. Tamb. Your fearful minds are thick and misty then ; For there sits Death ; there sits imperious Death Keeping his circuit by the slicing edge. 72 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT v. But I am pleased you shall not see him there ; He now is seated on my horsemen's spears, And on their points his fleshless body feeds. Techelles, straight go charge a few of them To charge these dames, and show my servant, Death, Sitting in scarlet on their armed spears. Virgins. O pity us ! Tamb. Away with them, I say, and show them Death, \_T/ie Virgins are taken oitf. I will not spare these proud Egyptians, Nor change my martial observations For all the wealth of Gihon's golden waves, Or for the love of Venus, would she leave The angry god of arms and lie with me. They have refused the offer of their lives, And know my customs are as peremptory As wrathful planets, death, or destiny. Re-enter TECHELLES. What, have your horsemen shown the virgins Death ? Tech. They have, my lord, and on Damascus' walls Have hoisted up their slaughtered carcases. Tamb. A sight as baneful to their souls, I think, As are Thessalian drugs or mithridate : * But go, my lords, put the rest to the sword. \Exeunt all except TAMBURLAINE. Ah, fair Zenocrate ! divine Zenocrate ! Fair is too foul an epithet for thee, That in thy passion 2 for thy country's love, And fear to see thy kingly father's harm, With hair dishevelled wlp'st thy watery cheeks ; And, like to Flora in her morning pride, 1 An antidote distilled from poisons. Bidlen. - Sorrow. SCENE I.] 'PART THE FIRST. 73 Shaking her silver tresses in the air, Rain'st on the earth resolved pearl in showers, And sprinklest sapphires on thy shining face, Where Beauty, mother to the Muses, sits And comments volumes with her ivory pen, Taking instructions from thy flowing eyes ; Eyes that, when Ebena steps to Heaven, In silence of thy solemn evening's walk, Make, in the mantle of the richest night, The moon, the planets, and the meteors, light ; There angels in their crystal armours fight A doubtful battle with my tempted thoughts For Egypt's freedom, and the Soldan's life ; His life that so consumes Zenocrate, Whose sorrows lay more siege unto my soul, Than all my army to Damascus' walls : And neither Persia's sovereign, nor the Turk Troubled my senses with conceit of foil So much by much as doth Zenocrate. What is beauty, saith my sufferings, then ? If all the pens that ever poets held Had fed the feeling of their masters' thoughts, And every sweetness that inspired their hearts, Their minds, and muses on admired themes ; If all the heavenly quintessence they still'" From their immortal flowers of poesy, Wherein, as in a mirror, we perceive The highest reaches of a human wit ; 1 Swinburne has written of the lines which follow the above : " In the most glorious verses ever fashioned by a poet to express with subtle and final truth the supreme aim and the supreme limit of his art, Marlowe has summed up all that can be said or thought on the office and the object, the means and the end, of this highest form of spiritual ambition." 2 i.e., Distil. 74 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT v. If these had made one poem's period, And all combined in beauty's worthiness, Yet should there hover in their restless heads One thought, one grace, one wonder, at the least, Which into words no virtue can digest. But how unseemly is it for my sex, My discipline of arms and chivalry, My nature, and the terror of my name, To harbour thoughts effeminate and faint ! Save only that in beauty's just applause, With whose instinct the soul of man is touched ; And every warrior that is wrapt with love Of fame, of valour, and of victory, Must needs have beauty beat on his conceits : I thus conceiving and subduing both That which hath stooped the chiefest of the gods, Even from the fiery-spangled veil of Heaven, To feel the lowly warmth of shepherds' flames, And mask in cottages of strowed reeds, Shall give the world to note for all my birth, That virtue solely is the sum of glory, And fashions men with true nobility. Who's within there ? Enter Attendants. Hath Bajazeth been fed to-day ? Atten. Ay, my lord. Tamb. Bring him forth ; and let us know if the town be ransacked. \_Exeunt Attendants. Enter TECHELLES, THERIDAMAS,USUMCASANE, and others Tech. The town is ours, my lord, and fresh supply Of conquest and of spoil is offered us. Tamb. That's well, Techelles; what's the news? SCENE i.] PART THE FIRST. 75 Tech. The Soldan and the Arabian king together, March on us with such eager violence, As if there were no way but one with us. 1 Tamb. No more there is not, I warrant thee, Techelles. Attendants bring in BAJAZETH in his cage, followed by ZABINA; then exeunt. Ther. We know the victory is ours, my lord ; But let us save the reverend Soldan's life, For fair Zenocrate that so laments his state. Tamb. That will we chiefly see unto, Theridamas, For sweet Zenocrate, whose worthiness Deserves a conquest over every heart. And now, my footstool, if I lose the field, You hope of liberty and restitution ? Here let him stay, my masters, from the tents, Till we have made us ready for the field. Pray for us, Bajazeth ; we are going. [Exeunt TAMBURLAINE, TECHELLES, USUM- CASANE, and Persians. Baj. Go, never to return with victory. Millions of men encompass thee about, And gore thy body with as many wounds ! Sharp, forked arrows light upon thy horse ! Furies from the black Cocytus lake, Break up the earth, and with their firebrands Enforce thee run upon the baneful pikes ! Volleys of shot pierce through thy charmed skin, And every bullet dipt in poisoned drugs ! Or, roaring cannons sever all thy joints, Making thee mount as high as eagles soar ! Zab. Let all the swords and lances in the field Stick in his breast as in their proper rooms ! 1 i.e. As if we must lose our lives. 76 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT v. At every pore let blood come dropping forth, Thai lingering pains may massacre his heart, And madness send his damned soul to hell ! Baj. Ah, fair Zabina ! we may curse his power ; The heavens may frown, the earth for anger quake : But such a star hath influence on his sword, As rules the skies and countermands the gods More than Cimmerian Styx or destiny ; And then shall we in this detested guise, With shame, with hunger, and with horror stay, Griping our bowels with retorqued 1 thoughts, And have no hope to end our ecstasies. Zab. Then is there left no Mahomet, no God, No fiend, no fortune, nor no hope of end To our infamous monstrous slaveries. Gape earth, and let the fiends infernal view A hell as hopeless and as full of fear As are the blasted banks of Erebus, Where shaking ghosts with ever -howling groans Hover about the ugly ferryman, To get a passage to Elysium ! Why should we live ? O, wretches, beggars, slaves ! Why live we, Bajazeth, and build up nests So high within the region of the air By living long in this oppression, That all the world will see and laugh to scorn The former triumphs of our mightiness In this obscure infernal servitude ? Baj. O life, more loathsome to my vexed thoughts Than noisome parbreak 2 of the Stygian snakes, Which fills the nooks of hell with standing air, Infecting all the ghosts with cureless griefs ! O dreary engines of my loathed sight, 1 Bent back. " Vomit. SCENK I.] PART THE FIRS'I. 77 That see my crown, my honour, and my name Thrust under yoke and thraldom of a thief, Why feed ye still on day's accursed beams And sink not quite into my tortured soul ? You see my wife, my queen, and emperess, Brought up and propped by the hand of fame, Queen of fifteen contributory queens, Now thrown to rooms of black abjection, Smeared with blots of basest drudgery, And villainess 1 to shame, disdain, and misery. Accursed Bajazeth, whose words of ruth, (That would with pity cheer Zabina's heart, And make our souls resolve 2 in ceaseless tears ;) Sharp hunger bites upon, and gripes the root, From whence the issues of my thoughts do break ; poor Zabina ! O my queen ! my queen ! Fetch me some water for my burning breast, To cool and comfort me with longer date, That in the shortened sequel of my life 1 may pour forth my soul into thine arms With words of love, whose moaning intercourse Hath hitherto been stayed with wrath and hate Of our expressless banned inflictions. Zab. Sweet Bajazeth, I will prolong thy life, As long as any blood or spark of breath Can quench or cool the torments of my grief. \_Exif. Bcij. Now, Bajazeth, abridge thy baneful days, And beat thy brains out of thy conquered head, Since other means are all forbidden me, That may be ministers of my decay. O, highest lamp of ever-living Jove, Accursed day ! infected with my griefs, Hide now thy stained face in endless night, 1 Slave. 2 Dissolve. 73 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT, [ACT v. And shut the windows of the lightsome heavens ! Let ugly Darkness with her rusty coach, Engirt with tempests, wrapt in pitchy clouds, Smother the earth with never-fading mists ! And let her horses from their nostrils breathe Rebellious winds and dreadful thunder-claps ! That in this terror Tamburlaine may live, And my pined soul, resolved in liquid air, May still excruciate his tormented thoughts ! Then let the stony dart of senseless cold Pierce through the centre of my withered heart, And make a passage for my loathed life ! \_He brains himself against the cage. Re-enicr ZABINA. Zab. What do mine eyes behold ? my husband dead ! His skull all riven in twain ! his brains dashed out, The brains of Bajazeth, my lord and sovereign : O Bajazeth, my husband and my lord ! O Bajazeth ! O Turk ! O Emperor ! Give him his liquor? not I. Bring milk and fire, and my blood I bring him again. Tear me in pieces give me the sword with a ball of wild-fire upon it. Down with him ! Down with him ! Go to my child ! Away ! Away ! Away ! Ah, save that infant ! save him, save him! I, even I, speak to her. The sun was down streamers white, red, black here, here, here ! Fling the meat in his face Tamburlaine. Tamburlaine ! Let the soldiers be buried. Hell ! Death, Tamburlaine, Hell ! Make ready my coach, 1 my chair, my jewels. I come ! I come ! I come ! [She runs against the cage and brains herself. 1 Shakespeare apparently had this passage in his mind when he made Ophelia exclaim, " Come, my coach/' &c. SCENE I.] PART THE FIRST. 79 Enttr ZENOCRATE with ANIPPE. Zeno. Wretched Zenocrate ! that liv'st to see Damascus' walls dyed with Egyptians' blood, Thy father's subjects and thy countrymen; The streets strowed with dissevered joints of men And wounded bodies gasping yet for life : But most accurst, to see the sun-bright troop Of heavenly virgins and unspotted maids, (Whose looks might make the angry god of arms To break his sword and mildly treat of love) On horsemen's lances to be hoisted up And guiltlessly endure a cruel death : For every fell and stout Tartarian steed, That stampt on others with their thundering hoofs, When all their riders charged their quivering spears, Began to check the ground and rein themselves, Gazing upon the beauty of their looks. Ah Tamburlaine ! wert thou the cause of this That term'st Zenocrate thy dearest love ? Whose lives were dearer to Zenocrate Than her own life, or aught save thine own love. But see another bloody spectacle ! Ah, wretched eyes, the enemies of my heart, How are ye glutted with these grievous objects, And tell my soul more tales of bleeding ruth ! See, see, Anippe, if they breathe or no. Anippe. No breath, nor sense, nor motion in them both; Ah, madam ! this their slavery hath enforced, And ruthless cruelty of Tamburlaine. Zeno. Earth, cast up fountains from thy entrails, And wet thy cheeks for their untimely deaths ! Shake with their weight in sign of fear and grief! Blush, Heaven, that gave them honour at their birth 8o TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT v. And let them die a death so barbarous ! Those that are proud of fickle empery And place their chiefest good in earthly pomp, Behold the Turk and his great Emperess ! Ah, Tamburlaine ! my love ! sweet Tamburlaine ! That fight'st for sceptres and for slippery crowns, Behold the Turk and his great Emperess ! Thou, that in conduct of thy happy stars Sleep'st every night with conquests on thy brows, And yet would'st shun the wavering turns of war, In fear and feeling of the like distress Behold the Turk and his great Emperess ! Ah, mighty Jove and holy Mahomet, Pardon my love ! O, pardon his contempt Of earthly fortune and respect of pity, And let not conquest, ruthlessly pursued, Be equally against his life incensed In this great Turk and hapless Emperess ! And pardon me that was not moved with ruth To see them live so long in misery ! Ah, what may chance to thee, Zenocrate ? Anippe. Madam, content yourself, and be resolved Your love hath Fortune so at his command, That she shall stay and turn her wheel no more, As long as life maintains his mighty arm That fights for honour to adorn your head. Enter PHILEMUS, a Messenger. Zeno. What other heavy news now brings Philemus? Phil. Madam, your father, and the Arabian king, The first affecter of your excellence, Comes now, as Turnus 'gainst /Eneas did, Armed with lance into the Egyptian fields, Ready for battle 'gainst my lord, the king. SCENE i.] PART THE FIRST. . 81 Zeno. Now shame and duty, love and fear present A thousand sorrows to my martyred soul. Whom should I wish the fatal victory When my poor pleasures are divided thus And racked by duty from my cursed heart ? My father and my first-betrothed love Must fight against my life and present love ; Wherein the change I use condemns my faith, And makes my deeds infamous through the world : But as the gods, to end the Trojans' toil Prevented Turnus of Lavinia And fatally enriched /Eneas' love, So for a final issue to my griefs, To pacify my country and my love Must Tamburlaine by their resistless pow'rs With virtue of a gentle victory Conclude a league of honour to my hope ; Then, as the Powers divine have pre-ordained, With happy safety of my father's life Send like defence of fair Arabia. [Trumpets sound to the battle within : afterwards, the KING #/" ARABIA enters wounded. K. of Arab. What cursed power guides the murdering hands Of this infamous tyrant's soldiers. That no escape may save their enemies, Nor fortune keep themselves from victory ? Lie down, Arabia, wounded to the death, And let Zenocrate's fair eyes behold That, as for her thou bear'st these wretched arms, Even so for her thou diest in these arms, Leaving thy blood for witness of thy love. Zeno. Too dear a witness for such love, my lord. Behold Zenocrate ! the cursed object, Mar. G 82 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT v. Whose fortunes never mastered her griefs ; Behold her wounded, in conceit, for thee, As much as thy fair body is for me. K. of Arab. Then shall I die with full, contented heart, Having beheld divine Zenocrate, Whose sight with joy would take away my life As now it bringeth sweetness to my wound, If I had not been wounded as I am. Ah ! that the deadly pangs I suffer now, Would lend an hour's licence to my tongue, To make discourse of some sweet accidents Have chanced thy merits in this worthless bondage ; And that I might be privy to the state Of thy deserved contentment, and thy love ; But, making now a virtue of thy sight, To drive all sorrow from my fainting soul, Since death denies me farther cause of joy, Deprived of care, my heart with comfort dies, Since thy desired hand shall close mine eyes. \He dies. Re-enter TAMBURLAINK, leading the SOLDAN, TECHELLES, THERIDAMAS, USUMCASAXE, unth others. Tatnb. Come, happy father of Zenocrate, A title higher than thy Soldan's name. Though my right hand have thus enthralled thee, Thy princely daughter here shall set thee free ; She that hath calmed the fury of my sword, Which had ere this been bathed in streams of blood As vast and deep as Euphrates or Nile. Ztno. O sight thrice welcome to my joyful soul, To see the king, rny father, issue safe From dangerous battle of my conquering love ! Sold. Well met, my only dear Zenocrate, Though with the loss of Egypt and my crown. SCENE I.] PART THE FIRST. 83 Tanib. 'Twas I, my lord, that got the victory, And therefore grieve not at your overthrow, Since I shall render all into your hands, And add more strength to your dominions Than ever yet confirmed the Egyptian crown. The god of war resigns his room to me, Meaning to make me general of the world : Jove, viewing me in arms, looks pale and wan, Fearing my power should pull him from his throne. Where'er I come the Fatal Sisters sweat, And grisly Death, by running to and fro, To do their ceaseless homage to my sword ; And here in Afric, where it seldom rains, Since I arrived with my triumphant host, Have swelling clouds, drawn from wide-gasping wounds, Been oft resolved in bloody purple showers, A meteor that might terrify the earth, And make it quake at every drop it drinks. Millions of souls sit on the banks of Styx Waiting the back return of Charon's boat ; Hell and Elysium swarm with ghosts of men, That I have sent from sundry foughten fields, To spread my fame through hell and up to Heaven. And see, my lord, a sight of strange import, Emperors and kings lie breathless at my feet : The Turk and his great Empress, as it seems, Left to themselves while we were at the fight, Have desperately despatched their slavish lives : With them Arabia, too, hath left his life : All sights of power to grace my victory ; And such are objects fit for Tamburlaine ; Wherein, as in a mirror, may be seen His honour, that consists in shedding blood, When men presume to manage arms with him. G 2 84 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT v. Sold. Mighty hath God and Mahomet made thy hand, Renowned Tamburlaine ! to whom all kings Of force must yield their crowns and emperies ; And I am pleased with this my overthrow, If, as beseems a person of thy state, Thou hast with honour used Zenocrate. Tamb. Her state and person want no pomp, you see ; And for all blot of foul inchastity I record Heaven her heavenly self is clear : Then let me find no farther time to grace Her princely temples with the Persian crown. But here these kings that on my fortunes wait, And have been crowned for proved worthiness, Even by this hand that shall establish them, Shall now, adjoining all their hands with mine, Invest her here the Queen of Persia. What saith the noble Soldan and Zenocrate ! Sold. I yield with thanks and protestations Of endless honour to thee for her love. Tamb. Then doubt I not but fair Zenocrate Will soon consent to satisfy us both. Zeno. Else should I much forget myself, my lord. Ther. Then let us set the crown upon her head, That long hath lingered for so high a seat. Tech. My hand is ready to perform the deed ; For now her marriage-time shall work us rest. [/sum. And here's the crown, my lord ; help set it on. Tamb. Then sit thou down, divine Zenocrate ; And here we crown thee Queen of Persia, . And all the kingdoms and dominions That late the power of Tamburlaine subdued. As Juno, when the giants were suppressed, That darted mountains at her brother Jove, So looks my love, shadowing in her brows SCENE I.] PART THE FIRST. 85 Triumphs and trophies for my victories ; Or, as Latona's daughters, bent to arms, Adding more courage to my conquering mind. To gratify the sweet Zenocrate, Egyptians, Moors, and men of Asia, From Barbary unto the western India, Shall pay a yearly tribute to thy sire : And from the bounds of Afric to the banks Of Ganges shall his mighty arm extend. And now, my lords and loving followers, That purchased kingdoms by your martial deeds, Cast off your armour, put on scarlet robes, Mount up your royal places of estate, Environed with troops of noblemen, And there make laws to rule your provinces. Hang up your weapons on Alcides' post, For Tamburlaine takes truce with all the world. Thy first-betrothed love, Arabia, Shall we with honour, as beseems, entomb With this great Turk and his fair Emperess. Then, after all these solemn exequies, We will our rites of marriage solemnise. TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. PART THE SECOND. THE PROLOGUE. THE general welcomes Tamburlaine received, When he arrived last upon the stage, Hath made our poet pen his Second Part, Where death cuts off the progress of his pomp, And murderous fates throw all his triumphs down. But what became of fair Zenocrate, And with how many cities' sacrifice He celebrated her sad funeral, Himself in presence shall unfold at large. D R A MA TIS PERS ON<. TAMBURLAINF, King of Persia. CALYPHAS, } AMYRAS, / His sons. CELEBINUS, * TECHKLLES, King of Fez. THERIDAMAS, King of Argier. USUMCASANE, King of Morocco. ORCANES, King of Natolia. KING of JERUSALEM. KING of TREBIZOND. KING of SoRiA. 1 KING of AMASIA. GAZELLUS, Viceroy of Byron. URIBASSA. SlGlSMUND, King of Hungary. FREDERICK, ) BALDWIN, 1 Lords of Buda and Bohemia. CALLAPINE, Son of BAJAZETH. ALMEDA, his Keeper. PERDICAS, Servant to CALYPHAS. GOVERNOR of BABYLON. MAXIMUS. CAPTAIN of BALSERA. His Son. Physicians. Another Captain. Lords, Citizens, Soldiers, &c. ZENOCRATE, Wife of TAMBURLAINE. OLYMPIA, Wife of the Captain of Balsera. Turkish Concubines. 1 Cunningham and Bullen have Syria, and Dyce, Soria. The latter points out that Tyre, since the Arab dominion in the East, has been known as Sor ; hence Soria, which is several times referred to in the play. THE GTjEAT. PART THE SECOND. **!***- ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I. Enter ORCANES, King of Natolia, GAZELLUS, Viceroy of Byron, URIBASSA, and their Train, with drums and trumpets. RC. Egregious viceroys of these eastern parts, Placed by the issue of great Bajazeth, And sacred lord, the mighty Callapine, Who lives in Egypt, prisoner to that slave Which kept his father in an iron cage ; Now have we marched from fair Natolia Two hundred leagues, and on Danubius' banks Our warlike host, in complete armour, rest, Where Sigismund, the king of Hungary, Should meet our person to conclude a truce. What ! shall we parley with the Christian ? Or cross the stream, and meet him in the field ? 9? TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT i. Gaz. King of Natolia, let us treat of peace ; We are all glutted with the Christians' blood, And have a greater foe to fight against, Proud Tamburlaine, that, now in Asia, Near Guyron's head doth set his conq'ring feet, And means to fire Turkey as he goes. 'Gainst him, my lord, you must address your power. Uri. Besides, King Sigismund hath brought from Christendom, More than his camp of stout Hungarians, Sclavonians, Almain rutters, 1 Muffes, and Danes. That with the halbert, lance, and murdering axe, Will hazard that we might with surety hold. Ore. Though from the shortest northern parallel, Vast Grantland 2 compassed with the Frozen Sea, (Inhabited with tall and sturdy men, Giants as big as hugy Polypheme,) Millions of soldiers cut the arctic line, Bringing the strength of Europe to these arms, Our Turkey blades shall glide through all their throats, And make this champion 3 mead a bloody fen. Danubius' stream, that runs to Trebizon, Shall carry, wrapt within his scarlet waves, As martial presents to our friends at home, The slaughtered bodies of these Christians. The Terrene Main, wherein Danubius falls, 4 Shall, by this battle, be the Bloody Sea. The wandering sailors of proud Italy Shall meet those Christians, fleeting with the tide, Beating in heaps against their argosies, And make fair Europe, mounted on her bull, 1 Troopers : Germ. Reiter. " Greenland. 3 Champaign. 4 It is hardly necessary to remark that the Danube falls into the Black Sea, and not into the Mediterranean. SCENE I.] PART THE SECOND. 91 Trapped with the wealth and riches of the world, Alight, and wear a woful mourning weed. Gaz. Yet, stout Orcanes, Prorex of the world, Since Tamburlaine hath mustered all his men, Marching from Cairo northward with his camp, To Alexandria, and the frontier towns, Meaning to make a conquest of our land, 'Tis requisite to parley for a peace With Sigismund the King of Hungary, And save our forces for the hot assaults Proud Tamburlaine intends Natolia. Ore. Viceroy of Byron, wisely hast thou said. My realm, the centre of our empery, Once lost, all Turkey would be overthrown, And for that cause the Christians shall have peace. Sclavonians, Almain rutters, Muffes, and Danes, Fear 1 not Orcanes, but great Tamburlaine ; Nor he, but fortune, that hath made him great. We have revolted Grecians, Albanese, Sicilians, Jews, Arabians, Turks, and Moors, Natolians, Syrians, black Egyptians, Illyrians, Thracians, and Bithynians, Enough to swallow forceless Sigismund, Yet scarce enough to encounter Tamburlaine. He brings a world of people to the field, From Scythia to the oriental plage Of India, where raging Lantchidol 2 Beats on the regions with his boisterous blows, That never seaman yet discovered. All Asia is in arms with Tamburlaine, Even from the midst of fiery Cancer's tropic, 1 i.e., Frighten. 2 Lantchidol is that part of the Indian Ocean which lies between Java and New Holland. Broughton. 92 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT I. To Amazonia under Capricorn ; And thence as far as Archipelago, All Afric is in arms with Tamburlaine ; Therefore, viceroy, the Christians must have peace. Enter SIGISMUND, FREDERICK, BALDWIN, and their Train, with drums and trumpets. Sig. Orcanes, (as our legates promised thee,) We, with our peers, have crossed Danubius' stream, To treat of friendly peace or deadly war. Take which thou wilt, for as the Romans used, I here present thee with a naked sword ; Wilt thou have war, then shake this blade at me ; If peace, restore it to my hands again, And I will sheath it, to confirm the same. Ore. Stay, Sigismund ! forget'st thou I am he That with the cannon shook Vienna walls, And made it dance upon the continent, As when the massy substance of the earth Quivers about the axle-tree of Heaven ? Forget'st thou that I sent a shower of darts, Mingled with powdered shot and feathered steel, So thick upon the blink-eyed burghers' heads, That thou thyself, then county palatine, The King of Boheme, and the Austric Duke, Sent heralds out, which basely on their knees In all your names desired a truce of me ? Forget'st thou, that to have me raise my siege, Waggons of gold were set before my tents, Stampt with the princely fowl, that in her wings, Carries the fearful thunderbolts of Jove ? How canst thou think of this, and offer war ? Sig. Vienna was besieged, and I was there, Then county palatine, but now a king, SCENE I.] PART THE SECOND. 93 And what we did was in extremity. But now, Orcanes, view my royal host, That hides these plains, and seems as vast and wide, As doth the desert of Arabia To those that stand on Bagdet's lofty tower ; Or as the ocean, to the traveller That rests upon the snowy Apennines ; And tell me whether I should stoop so low, Or treat of peace with the Natolian king. Gaz. Kings of Natolia and of Hungary, We came from Turkey to confirm a league, And not to dare each other to the field. A friendly parley might become you both. Fred. And we from Europe, to the same intent, Which if your general refuse or scorn, Our tents are pitched, our men stand in array, Ready to charge you ere you stir your feet. Ore. So prest 1 are we; but yet, if Sigismund Speak as a friend, and stand not upon terms, Here is his sword, -let peace be ratified On these conditions, specified before, Drawn with advice of our ambassadors. Sig. Then here I sheathe it, and give thee my hand, Never to draw it out, or manage arms Against thyself or thy confederates, But whilst 1 live will be a truce with thee. Ore. But, Sigismund, confirm it with an oath, And swear in sight of Heaven and by thy Christ. Sig. By him that made the world and saved my soul, The Son of God and issue of a Maid, Sweet Jesus Christ, I solemnly protest And vow to keep this peace inviolable. 1 Ready, l-'r. prct. 94 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT i. Ore. By sacred Mahomet, the friend of God, Whose holy Alcoran remains with us, Whose glorious body, when he left the world, Closed in a coffin mounted up the air, And hung on stately Mecca's temple-roof, I swear to keep this truce inviolable ; Of whose conditions and our solemn oaths, Signed with our hands, each shall retain a scroll As memorable witness of our league. Now, Sigismund, if any Christian king Encroach upon the confines of thy realm, Send word, Orcanes of Natolia Confirmed this league beyond Danubius' stream, And they will, trembling, sound a quick retreat ; So am I feared among all nations. Sig. If any heathen potentate or king Invade Natolia, Sigismund will send A hundred thousand horse trained to the war, And backed by stout lanciers of Germany, The strength and sinews of the Imperial seat. Ore. I thank thee, Sigismund ; but, when I war, All Asia Minor, Africa, and Greece, Follow m/ standard and my thundering drums. Come, let us go and banquet in our tents ; I will despatch chief of my army hence To fair Natolia and to Trebizon, To stay my coming 'gainst proud Tamburlaine. Friend Sigismund, and peers of Hungary, Come, banquet and carouse with us a while, And then depart we to our territories. [Exeunt SCENE it.] PART THE SECOND. 95 SCENE II. Enter CALLAPINE with ALMEDA, his Keeper. Call, Sweet Almeda, pity the ruthful plight Of Callapine, the son of Bajazeth, Born to be monarch of the western world, Yet here detained by cruel Tamburlaine. Aim. My lord, I pity it, and with all my heart Wish you release ; but he whose wrath is death, My sovereign lord, renowned Tamburlaine, Forbids you farther liberty than this. Call. Ah, were I now but half so eloquent To paint in words what I'll perform in deeds, I know thou would'st depart from hence with me. Aim. Not for all Afric : therefore move me not. Call. Yet hear me speak, my gentle Almeda. Aim. No speech to that end, by your favour, sir. Call. By Cairo runs Aim. No talk of running, I tell you, sir. Call. A little farther, gentle Almeda, Aim. Well, sir, what of this ? Call. By Cairo runs to Alexandria bay Darote's streams, wherein at anchor lies A Turkish galley of my royal fleet, Waiting my coming to the river side, Hoping by some means I shall be released, Which, when I come aboard, will hoist up sail, And soon put forth into the Terrene sea, Where, 'twixt the isles of Cyprus and of Crete, We quickly may in Turkish seas arrive. Then shalt thou see a hundred kings and more, Upon their knees, all bid me welcome home, Amongst so many crowns of burnished gold, 96 TAMBURLA1NE THE GREAT. [ACT i. Choose which thou wilt, all are at thy command ; A thousand galleys, manned with Christian slaves, I freely give thee, which shall cut the Straits, And bring armados from the coasts of Spain Fraughted with gold of rich America ; The Grecian virgins shall attend on thee, Skilful in music and in amorous lays, As fair as was Pygmalion's ivory girl Or lovely 16 metamorphosed. With naked negroes shall thy coach be dra;.vn, And as thou rid'st in triumph through the streets The pavement underneath thy chariot wheels With Turkey carpets shall be covered, And cloth of Arras hung about the walls, Fit objects for thy princely eye to pierce. A hundred bassoes, clothed in crimson silk, Shall ride before thee on Barbarian steeds ; And when thou goest, a golden canopy Enchased with precious stones, which shine as bright As that fair veil that covers all the world, When Phcebus, leaping from the hemisphere, Descendeth downward to the Antipodes, And more than this for all I cannot tell. Aim. How far hence lies the galley, say you ? Call. Sweet Almeda, scarce half a league from hence. Aim. But need 1 we not be spied going aboard? Call. Betwixt the hollow hanging of a hill, And crooked bending of a craggy rock, The sails wrapt up, the mast and tacklings down, She lies so close that none can find her out. Aim. I like that well : but tell me, my lord, if I should let you go, would you be as good as your word ? shall I be made a king for my labour ? 1 Muse. SCENE in.] PART THE SECOND. 97 Call. As I am Callapine the Emperor, And by the hand of Mahomet I swear Thou shalt be crowned a king, and be my mate. Aim. Then here I swear, as I am Almeda Your keeper under Tamburlaine the Great, (For that's the style and title I have yet,) Although he sent a thousand armed men To intercept this haughty enterprise, Yet would I venture to conduct your grace, And die before I brought you back again. Call. Thanks, gentle Almeda ; then let us haste, Lest time be past, and lingering let 1 us both. Aim. When you will, my lord ; I am ready. Call. Even straight ; and farewell, cursed Tamburlaine, Now go I to revenge my father's death. \Exeunt. SCENE III. Enter TAMBURLAINE, ZENOCRATE, and their three Sons, CALYPHAS, AMYRAS, and CELEBINUS, with drums and trumpets. Tamb. Now, bright Zenocrate, the world's fair eye, Whose beams illuminate the lamps of Heaven, Whose cheerful looks do clear the cloudy air, And clothe it in a crystal livery ; Now rest thee here on fair Larissa plains, Where Egypt and the Turkish empire part Between thy sons, that shall be emperors, And every one commander of a world. Zeno. Sweet Tamburlaine, when wilt thou leave these arms, 1 Hinder. Mar. H 98 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT I. And save thy sacred person free from scathe, And dangerous chances of the wrathful war ? Tamb. When Heaven shall cease to move on both the poles, And when the ground, whereon my soldiers march, Shall rise aloft and touch the horned moon, And not before, my sweet Zenocrate. Sit up, and rest thee like a lovely queen ; So, now she sits in pomp and majesty, When these, my sons, more precious in mine eyes, Than all the wealthy kingdoms I subdued, Placed by her side, look on their mother's face : But yet methinks their looks are amorous. Not martial as the sons of Tamburlaine : Water and air, being symbolised in one, Argue their want of courage and of wit ; Their hair as white as milk and soft as down, (Which should be like the quills of porcupines As black as jet and hard as iron or steel) Bewrays they are too dainty for the wars ; Their fingers made to quaver on a lute, Their arms to hang about a lady's neck, Their legs to dance and caper in the air, 1 Would make me think them bastards not my sons, But that I know they issued from thy womb That never looked on man but Tamburlaine. Zeno. My gracious lord, they have their mother's looks, But when they list their conquering father's heart. This lovely boy, the youngest of the three, Not long ago bestrid a Scythian steed, Trotting the ring, and tilting at a glove, Which when he tainted 2 with his slender rod, 1 Bullen (following Cunningham) omitted this line. 2 Touched. SCENE in.] PART THE SECOND. 99 He reined him straight and made him so curvet, As I cried out for fear he should have fallen. Tamb. Well done, my boy, thou shalt have shield and lance, Armour of proof, horse, helm, and curtle-axe, And I will teach thee how to charge thy foe, And harmless run among the deadly pikes. If thou wilt love the wars and follow me, Thou shalt be made a king and reign with me, Keeping in iron cages emperors. If thou exceed thy elder brothers' worth And shine in complete virtue more than they, Thou shalt be king before them, and thy seed Shall issue crowned from their mother's womb. Cel. Yes, father : you shall see me, if I live, Have under me as many kings as you, And march with such a multitude of men, As all the world shall tremble at their view. Tamb. These words assure me, boy, thpu art my son. When I am old and cannot manage arms, Be thou the scourge and terror of the world. Amy. Why may not I, my lord, as well as he, Be termed the scourge and terror of the world ? Tamb. Be all a scourge and terror to the world, Or else you are not sons of Tamburlaine. Cal. But while my brothers follow arms, my lord,. ' Let me accompany my gracious mother; They are enough to conquer all the world, And you have won enough for me to keep. Tamb. Bastardly boy, sprung from some coward's loins, And not the issue of great Tamburlaine ; Of all the provinces I have subdued, Thou shalt not have a foot unless thou bear A mind courageous and invincible : H 2 ioo TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT i. For he shall wear the crown of Persia Whose head hath deepest scars, whose breast most wounds, Which being wroth sends lightning from his eyes, And in the furrows of his frowning brows Harbours revenge, war, death, and cruelty ; For in a field, whose superficies Is covered with a liquid purple veil And sprinkled with the brains of slaughtered men, My royal chair of state shall be advanced ; And he that means to place himself therein, Must armed wade up to the chin in blood. Zeno. My lord, such speeches to our princely sons Dismay their minds before they come to prove The wounding troubles angry war affords. CeL No, madam, these are speeches fit for us, For if his chair were in a sea of blood I would prepare a ship and sail to it, Ere I would lose the title of a king. Amy. And I would strive to swim through pools of blood, Or make a bridge of murdered carcases, Whose arches should be framed with bones of Turks, Ere I would lose the title of a king. Tamb. Well, lovely boys, ye shall be emperors both, Stretching your conquering arms from East to West ; And, sirrah, if you mean to wear a crown, When we shall meet the Turkish deputy And all his viceroys, snatch it from his head, And cleave his pericranium with thy sword. Cat. If any man will hold him, I will strike And cleave him to the channel 1 with my sword. lamb. Hold him, and cleave him too, or I'll cleave thee, For we will march against them presently. Theridamas, Techelles, and Casane 1 Collar-bone. SCENE in.] PART THE SECOND. 101 Promised to meet me on Larissa plains With hosts apiece against this Turkish crew ; For I have sworn by sacred Mahomet To make it parcel of my empery ; The trumpets sound, Zenocrate ; they come. Enter THERIDAMAS and his Train, with drums and trumpets. Tamb. Welcome, Theridamas, King of Argier. Ther. My lord, the great and mighty Tamburlaine, Arch monarch of the world, I offer here My crown, myself, and all the power I have, In all affection at thy kingly feet. Tamb. Thanks, good Theridamas. Ther. Under my colours march ten thousand Greeks ; And of Argier' s and Afric's frontier towns Twice twenty thousand valiant men-at-arms, All which have sworn to sack Natolia. Five hundred brigandines are under sail, Meet for your service on the sea, my lord, That launching from Argier to Tripoli, Will quickly ride before Natolia, And batter down the castles on the shore. Tamb. Well said, Argier ; receive thy crown again. Enter TECHELLES and USUMCASANE together. Tamb. Kings of Moroccus and of Fez, welcome. Usiim. Magnificent and peerless Tamburlaine ! I and my neighbour King of Fez have brought To aid thee in this Turkish expedition, A hundred thousand expert soldiers : From Azamor a to Tunis near the sea Is Barbary unpeopled for thy sake, 1 A maritime town of Morocco. 102 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT I. And all -the men in armour under me, Which with my crown I gladly offer thee. Tamb. Thanks, King of Moro ecus, take your crown again. Tech. And, mighty Tamburlaine, our earthly god, Whose looks make this inferior world to quake, I here present thee with the crown of Fez, And with an host of Moors trained to the war, Whose coal-black faces make their foes retire, And quake for fear, as if infernal Jove Meaning to aid thee in these Turkish arms, Should pierce the black circumference of hell With ugly Furies bearing fiery flags, And millions of his strong tormenting spirits. From strong Tesella unto Biledull l All Barbary is unpeopled for thy sake. Tamb. Thanks, King of Fez; take here thy crown again. Your presence, loving friends, and fellow kings, Makes me to surfeit in conceiving joy. If all the crystal gates of Jove's high court Were opened wide, and I might enter in To see the state and majesty of Heaven, It could not more delight me than your sight. Now will we banquet on these plains awhile, And after march to Turkey with our camp, In number more than are the drops that fall, When Boreas rents a thousand swelling clouds ; And proud Orcanes of Natolia With all his viceroys shall be so afraid, That though the stones, as at Deucalion's flood, Were turned to men, he should be overcome. Such lavish will I make of Turkish blood, 1 Tesella, now Tesegdelt, an impregnable village of Morocco, lies to the south of Mogador, and Biledull, i.e. Biledulgerid (the land of dates), is situated southward of the Barbary States- SCENE in.] PART THE SECOND. 103 That Jove shall send his winged messenger To bid me sheath my sword and leave the field ; The sun unable to sustain the sight, Shall hide his head in Thetis' watery lap, And leave his steeds to fair Bootes' charge ; For half the world shall perish in this fight. But now, my friends, let me examine ye ; How have ye spent your absent time from me ? Us ion. My lord, our men of Barbary have marched Four hundred miles with armour on their backs, And lain in leaguer * fifteen months and more ; For, since we left you at the Soldan's court, We have subdued the southern Guallatia, And all the land unto the coast of Spain ; We kept the narrow Strait of Jubalter, Aad made Canaria call us kings and lords ; Yet never did they recreate themselves, Or cease one day from war and hot alarms, And therefore let them rest awhile, my lord. Tainb. They shall, Casane, and 'tis time i' faith. Tech. And I have marched along the river Nile To Machda, where the mighty Christian priest, Called John the Great, 2 sits in a milk-white robe, Whose triple mitre 1 did take by force, And made him swear obedience to my crown, From thence unto Cazates did I march, Where Amazonians met me in- the field, With whom, being women, I vouchsafed a league, And with my power did march to Zanzibar, The eastern part of Afric, where I viewed The Ethiopian sea, rivers and lakes, But neither man nor child in all the land ; Therefore I took my course to Manico, 1 The camp of a besieging force. 2 Prester John, 104 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT, [ACT i. Where unresisted, I removed my camp ; And by the coast of Byather, at last I came to Cubar, where the negroes dwell, And conquering that, made haste to Nubia. There, having sacked Borno ] the kingly seat, I took the king and led him bound in chains Unto Damasco., where I stayed before. Tamb. Well done, Techelles. What saith Theridamas Ther. I left the confines and the bounds of Afric, And thence I made a voyage into Europe, Where by the river Tyras I subdued Stoka, Podolia, and Codemia; Thence crossed the sea and came to Oblia - And Nigra Sylva, where the devils dance, Which in despite of them, I set on fire. From thence I crossed the gulf called by the name .. Mare Majore 3 of the inhabitants. Yet shall my soldiers make no period, Until Natolia kneel before your feet. Tamb. Then will we triumph, banquet and carouse ; Cooks shall have pensions to provide us cates, And glut us with the dainties of the world ; Lachryma Christi and Calabrian wines Shall common soldiers drink in quaffing bowls, Ay, liquid gold (when we have conquered him) Mingled with coral and with orient pearl. Come, let us banquet and carouse the whiles. {Exeunt. 1 'SVith regard to the above places on Techelles' line of march, Manico, i.e. Manica, is in the Mozambique territory ; by Byather Biafra is supposed to have been meant, while Borno, i.e. Bornu, is an extensive kingdom in the eastern part of Central Africa. 2 Tyras is now the Dniester, Stoka is a confluent of the Danube, Podolia is a Russian province, and Codemia, now Koclyma, is a confluent of the Bug. Oblia, i.e. Olbia, a Greek colony in Scythia, is now Stomogil on the Bug. 3 The old name of the Black Sea. So called by Marco Polo. ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I. Enter SIGISMUND, FREDERICK, BALDWIN, and their Train. TG. Now say, my lords of Buda and Bohemia, What motion is it that inflames your thoughts, And stirs your valours to such sudden arms? Fred. Your majesty remembers, I am sure, What cruel slaughter of our Christian bloods These heathenish Turks and Pagans lately made, Betwixt the city Zula and Danubius ; How through the midst of Varna and Bulgaria, And almost to the very walls of Rome, They have, not long since, massacred our camp. It resteth now, then, that your majesty Take all advantages of time and power, And work revenge upon these infidels. Your highness knows, for Tamburlaine's repair, That strikes a terror to all Turkish hearts, Natolia hath dismissed the greatest part Of all his army, pitched against our power, Betwixt Cutheia and Orminius' mount, 1 And sent them marching up to Belgasar, 1 Probably Armenyes, in Transylvania. 106 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT n. Acantha, 1 Antioch, and Csesarea, To aid the Kings of Soria, and Jerusalem. Now then, my lord, advantage take thereof, And issue suddenly upon the rest ; That in the fortune of their overthrow, We may discourage all the pagan troop, That dare attempt to war with Christians. Sig. But calls not then your grace to memory The league we lately made with King Orcanes, Confirmed by oath and articles of peace, And calling Christ for record of our truths ? This should be treachery and violence Against the grace of our profession. Bald. No whit, my lord, for with such infidels, In whom no faith nor true religion rests, We are not bound to those accomplishments The holy laws of Christendom enjoin ; But as the faith, which they profanely plight, Is n'ot by necessary policy To be esteemed assurance for ourselves, So that we vow to them should not infringe Our liberty of arms or victory. Sig. Though I confess the oaths they undertake Breed little strength to our security. Yet those infirmities that thus defame Their faiths, their honours, and their religion, Should not give us presumption to the like. Our faiths are sound, and must be consummate, Religious, righteous, and inviolate. Fred. Assure your grace 'tis superstition To stand so strictly on dispensive faith ; And should we lose the opportunity That God hath given to venge our Christians' death SCENE ii.] PART THE SECOND. 107 And scourge their foul blasphemous Paganism, As fell to Saul, to Balaam, and the rest, That would not kill and curse at God's command, So surely will the vengeance of the Highest, And jealous anger of His fearful arm, Be poured with rigour on our sinful heads, If we neglect this offered victory. Sig. Then arm, my lords, and issue suddenly, Giving commandment to our general host, With expedition to assail the Pagan, And take the victory our God hath given. \Exeunt. SCENE II. Enter. ORCANES, GAZELLUS, and URIBASSA, with their Trains. Ore. Gazellus, Uribassa, and the rest, Now will we march from proud Orminius' mount, To fair Natolia, where our neighbour kings Expect our power and our royal presence, To encounter with the cruel Tamburlaine, That nigh Larissa sways a mighty host, And with the thunder of his martial tools Makes earthquakes in the hearts of men and Heaven. Ga:. And now come we to make his sinews shake, With greater power than erst his pride hath felt. An hundred kings, by scores, will bid him arms, And hundred thousands subjects to each score, Which, if a shower of wounding thunderbolts Should break out of the bowels of the clouds, And fall as thick as hail upon our heads, In partial aid of that proud Scythian, Yet should our courages and steeled crests, io8 ' TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT IT. And numbers, more than infinite, of men, Be able to withstand and conquer him. l , Uri. Methinks I see how glad the Christian king Is made, for joy of your admitted truce, That could not but before be terrified With unacquainted power of our host. Enter a Messenger. Mess. Arm, dread sovereign, and my noble lords ! The treacherous army of the Christians, Taking advantage of your slender power, Comes marching on us, and determines straight To bid us battle for our dearest lives. Ore. Traitors ! villains ! damned Christians ! Have I not here the articles of peace, And solemn covenants we have both confirmed, He by his Christ, and I by Mahomet ? Gaz. Hell and confusion light upon their heads, That with such treason seek our overthrow, And care so little for their prophet, Christ ! Ore. Can there be such deceit in Christians, Or treason in the fleshly heart of man, Whose shape is figure of the highest God ! Then, if there be a Christ, as Christians say, But in their deeds deny him for their Christ, If he be son to everliving Jove, And hath the power of his outstretched arm ; If he be jealous of his name and honour, As is our holy prophet, Mahomet ; Take here these papers as our sacrifice And witness of thy servant's perjury. \He tears to pieces the a?-ticlcs of peace. 1 " If the sky fall, we'll uphold it on our lances," was the boast of the French at the battle of Nicopolis, at which Sigismund was defeated by Bajazet. SCENE in.] PART THE SECOND. 109 Open, thou shining veil of Cynthia, And make a passage from the empyreal Heaven, That he that sits on high and never sleeps, Nor in one place is circumscriptible, But everywhere fills every continent With strange infusion of his sacred vigour, May in his endless power and purity, Behold and venge this traitor's perjury ! Thou Christ, that art esteemed omnipotent, If thou wilt prove thyself a perfect God, Worthy the worship of all faithful hearts, Be now revenged upon this traitor's soul , And make the power I have left behind, (Too little to defend our guiltless lives,) Sufficient to discomfort and confound The trustless force of those false Christians. To arms, my lords ! On Christ still let us cry ! If there be Christ, we shall have victory. SCENE III. Alarms of battle within. Enter SIGISMUND, wounded. Sig. Discomfited is all the Christian host, And God hath thundered vengeance from on high, For my accursed and hateful perjury. O, just and dreadful punisher of sin, Let the dishonour of the pains I feel, In this my mortal well-deserved wound, End all my penance in my sudden death ! And let this death, wherein to sin I die, Conceive a second life in endless mercy ! \He dies. no TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT II. Enter ORCANES, GAZELLUS, URIBASSA, and others. Ore. Now lie the Christians bathing in their bloods, And Christ or Mahorrtfet hath' been my friend. Gaz. See here the perjured traitor Hungary, Bloody and breathless for his villany. Ore. Now shall his barbarous body be a prey To beasts and fowls, and all the winds shall breathe Through shady leaves of ever)' senseless tree Murmurs and hisses for his heinous sin. Now scalds his soul in the Tartarian streams, And feeds upon the baneful tree of hell, That Zoacum, 1 that fruit of bitterness, That in the midst of fire is ingrafted, Yet flourishes as Flora in her pride, With apples like the heads of damned fiends. The devils there, in chains of quenchless flame, Shall lead his soul through Orcus' burning gulf, From pain to pain, whose change shall never end. What say'st thou yet, Gazellus, to his foil Which we referred to justice of his Christ, And to his power, which here appears as full As rays of Cynthia to the clearest sight ? Gaz. 'Tis but the fortune of the wars, my lord, Whose power is often proved a miracle. Ore. Yet in my thoughts shall Christ be honoured, Not doing Mahomet an injury, Whose power had share in this our victory ; And since this miscreant hath disgraced his faith, And died a traitor both to Heaven and earth, We will both watch and ward shall keep his trunk Amidst these plains for fowls to prey upon. Go, Uribassa, give it straight in charge. 1 The description of this tree is taken from the Koran, chap. 37. SCENE IV.] PART THE SECOND. in UrL I will, my lord. [Exit. Ore. And now, Gazellus, let us haste and meet Our army, and our brothers of Jerusalem, Of Soria, Trebizond, and Amasia, And happily, with full Natolian bowls Of Greekish wine, now let us celebrate Our happy conquest and his angry fate. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. ZENOCRATE is discovered lying in her bed of stale, with TAMBURLAINE sitting by her. About her bed are three PHYSICIANS tempering potions. Around are THERI- DAMAS, TECHELLES, USUMCASANE, and her three Sons. Tamb. Black is the beauty of the brightest day ; The golden ball of Heaven's eternal fire, That danced with glory on the silver waves, Now wants the fuel that inflamed his beams ; And all with faintness, and for foul disgrace, He binds his temples with a frowning cloud, Ready to darken earth with endless night. Zenocrate, that gave him light and life, Whose eyes shot fire from their ivory bowers And tempered every soul with lively heat, Now by the malice of the angry skies, Whose jealousy admits no second mate, Draws in the comfort of her latest breath, All dazzled with the hellish mists of death. Now walk the angels on the walls of Heaven, As sentinels to warn the immortal souls To entertain divine Zenocrate. Apollo, Cynthia, and the ceaseless lamp That gently looked upon this loathsome earth, ii2 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT n. Shine downward now no more, but deck the Heavens, To entertain divine Zenocrate. The crystal springs, whose taste illuminates Refined eyes with an eternal sight, Like tried silver, run through Paradise, To entertain divine Zenocrate. The cherubins and holy seraphins, That sing and play before the King of kings, Use all their voices and their instruments To entertain divine Zenocrate. And in this sweet and curious harmony, The God that tunes this music to our souls, Holds out his hand in highest majesty To entertain divine Zenocrate. Then let some holy trance convey my thoughts Up to the palace of th' empyreal Heaven, That this my life may be as short to me As are the days of sweet Zenocrate. Physicians, will no physic do her good ? Phys. My lord, your majesty shall soon perceive : And if she pass this fit, the worst is past. Tamb. Tell me, how fares my fair Zenocrate ? Zeno. I fare, my lord, as other empresses, That, when this frail and transitory flesh Hath sucked the measure of that vital air That feeds the body with his dated health, Wade with enforced and necessary change. Tamb. May never such a change transform my love, In whose sweet being I repose my life, Whose heavenly presence, beautified with health, Gives light to Phoebus and the fixed stars ! Whose absence makes the sun and moon as dark As when, opposed in one diameter, Their spheres are mounted on the serpent's head, SCENE iv.] PART THE SECOND. 113 Or else descended to his winding train. Live still, my love, and so conserve my life, Or, dying, be the author of. my death ! Zeno. Live still, my lord ! O, let my sovereign live And sooner let the fiery element Dissolve and make your kingdom in the sky, Than this base earth should shroud your majesty : For should I but suspect your death by mine, The comfort of my future happiness, And hope to meet your highness in the Heavens, Turned to despair, would break my wretched breast, And fury would confound my present rest. But let me die, my love ; yet let me die ; With love and patience let your true love die ! Your grief and fury hurts my second life. Yet let me kiss my lord before I die, And let me die with kissing of my lord. But since my life is lengthened yet a while, Let me take leave of these my loving sons, And of my lords, whose true nobility Have merited my latest memory. Sweet sons, farewell ! In death resemble me, And in your lives your father's excellence. Some music, and my fit will cease, my lord. \They call for music. Tamb. Proud fury, and intolerable fit, That dares torment the body of my love, And scourge the scourge of the immortal God : Now are those spheres, where Cupid used to sit, Wounding the world with wonder and with love, Sadly supplied with pale and ghastly death, Whose darts do pierce the centre of my soul. Her sacred beauty hath enchanted. Heaven ; And had she lived before the siege of Troy, 114 TAMRURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT n. Helen (whose beauty summoned Greece to arms, And drew a thousand ships to Tenedos) 1 Had not been named in Homer's Iliad ; Her name had been in every line he wrote. Or had those wanton poets, for whose birth Old Rome was proud, but gazed a while on her, Nor Lesbia nor Corinna had been named ; Zenocrate had been the argument Of every epigram or elegy. \_The music sounds. ZENOCRATE dies. What ! is she dead ? Techelles, draw thy sword And wound the earth, that it may cleave in twain, And we descend into the infernal vaults, To hale the Fatal Sisters by the hair, And throw them in the triple moat of hell, For taking hence my fair Zenocrate. Casane and Theridamas, to arms ! Raise cavalieros 2 higher than the clouds, And with the cannon break the frame of Heaven ; Batter the shining palace of the sun, And shiver all the starry firmament, For amorous Jove hath snatched my love from hence, Meaning to make her stately queen of Heaven. What God soever holds thee in his arms, Giving thee nectar and ambrosia, Behold me here, divine Zenocrate, Raving, impatient, desperate, and mad, Breaking my steeled lance, with which I burst The rusty beams of Janus' temple-doors, Letting out Death and tyrannising War, 1 "Was this the face that launched a thousand ships?" See " Doctor Faustus," scene xiv., p. 223. - Cavalier is the word still used for a mound for cannons elevated above the rest of the works of a fortress, as a horseman is raised above a foot-soldier. Cunningham. SCENE iv.] PART THE SECOND. 115 To march with me under this bloody flag ! And if thou pitiest Tamburlaine the Great, Come down from Heaven, and live with me again ! T/ier. Ah, good my lord, be patient ; she is dead, And all this raging cannot make her live. If words might serve, our voice hath rent the air ; If tears, our eyes have watered all the earth ; If grief, our murdered hearts have strained forth blood ; Nothing prevails, for she is dead, my lord. Tamb. " For she is dead ! " Thy words do pierce my soul ! Ah, sweet Theridamas ! say so no more ; Though she be dead, yet let me think she lives, And feed my mind that dies for want of her. Where'er her soul be, thou \_To the body~\ shalt stay with me, Embalmed with cassia, ambergris, and myrrh, Not lapt in lead, but in a sheet of gold, And till I die thou shalt not be interred. Then in as rich a tomb as Mausolus' We both will rest and have one epitaph Writ in as many several languages As I have conquered kingdoms with my sword. This cursed town will I consume with fire, Because this place bereaved me of my love : The houses, burnt, will look as if they mourned ; And here will I set up her statua, And march about it with my mourning camp Drooping and pining for Zenocrate. [ The scene closes. i 2 ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. Enter the KINGS evidently refers to teeth, and "kicking colts" to tongues, already compared to "jades," and shortly afterwards spoken of as "coltish coach-horse tongues." 2 Brave. 148 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT iv. Take them ; divide them, and their jewels too, And let them equally serve all your turns. Sold. We thank you. Tamb. Brawl not, I warn you, for your lechery : For every man that so offends shall die. Ore. Injurious tyrant, wilt thou so defame The hateful fortunes of thy victory, To exercise upon such guiltless dames The violence of thy common soldiers' lust ? Tamb. Live continent then, .ye slaves, and meet not me With troops of harlots at your slothful heels. Con. O pity us, my lord, and save our honours. Tamb. Are ye not gone, ye villains, with your spoils ? \_They run away with the Concubines. K. ofjer. O merciless, infernal cruelty ! Tamb. Save your honours ! 'Twere but time indeed, Lost long before ye knew what honour meant. Ther. It seems they meant to conquer us, my lord, And make us jesting pageants for their trulls. Tamb. And now themselves shall make our pageants, And common soldiers jest with all their trulls. Let them take pleasure soundly in their spoils, Till we prepare our march to Babylon, Whither we next make expedition. Tech. Let us not be idle then, my lord, But presently be prest 1 to conquer it. Tamb. We will, Techelles. Forward then, ye jades. Now crouch, ye kings of greatest Asia, And tremble when ye hear this scourge will come That whips down cities and controlleth crowns, Adding their wealth and treasure to my store. The Euxine sea, north to Natolia ; The Terrene, west ; the Caspian, north-north-east ; 1 Ready. SCENE iv.] PART THE SECOND. 149 And on the south, Sinus Arabicus ; Shall all be loaden with the martial spoils We will convey with us to Persia. Then shall my native city, Samarcanda, And crystal waves of fresh Jaertis' stream, The pride and beauty of her princely seat, Be famous through the furthest continents, For there my palace-royal shall be placed, Whose shining turrets shall dismay the Heavens, And cast the fame of Ilion's tower to hell. Thorough the streets with troops of conquered kings, I'll ride in golden armour like the sun ; And in my helm a triple plume shall spring, Spangled with diamonds, dancing in the air, To note me emperor of the threefold world, Like 1 to an almond tree y-mounted high Upon the lofty and celestial mount Of ever-green Selinus quaintly decked With blooms more white than Erycina's brows, Whose tender blossoms tremble every one, At every little breath through Heaven is blown. Then in my coach, like Saturn's royal son Mounted, his shining chariot gilt with fire, And drawn with princely eagles through the path Paved with bright crystal and enchased with stars, When all the gods stand gazing at his pomp, So will I ride through Samarcanda streets, Until my soul, dissevered from this flesh, Shall mount the milk-white way, and meet him there. To Babylon, my lords ; to Babylon ! \Exeunt. 1 This and the five following lines are borrowed with slight varia- tions from the Faerie Qiieene, i. 7 (stanza 32). Bullen suggests that Marlowe must have seen the passage in MS. The Faerie Queens was published in 1590. ACT THE FIFTH. SCENE I. Enter the GOVERNOR of BABYLON, MAXIMUS, and others upon the walls. OV. What saith Maximus ? Max. My lord, the breach the enemy hath made Gives such assurance of our overthrow That little hope is left to save our lives, Or hold our city from the conqueror's hands. Then hang out flags, my lord, of humble truce, And satisfy the people's general prayers, That Tamburlaine's intolerable wrath May be suppressed by our submission. Gov. Villain, respects thou more thy slavish life Than honour of thy country or thy name ? Are not my life and state as dear to me, The city, and my native country's weal, As anything of price with thy conceit ? Have we not hope, for all our battered walls, To live secure and keep his forces out, When this our famous lake of Limnasphaltis Makes walls afresh with everything that falls Into the liquid substance of his stream, More strong than are the gates of death or hell ? SCENE I.] PART THE SECOND. 151 What faintness should dismay our courages When we are thus defenced against our foes, And have no terror but his threatening looks. Enter above a Citizen, who kneels to the GOVERNOR. Cit. My lord, if ever you did deed of ruth, And now will work a refuge for our lives, Offer submission, hang up flags of truce, That Tamburlaine may pity our distress, And use us like a loving conqueror. Though this be held his last day's dreadful siege, Wherein he spareth neither man nor child, Yet are there Christians of Georgia here, Whose state was ever pitied and relieved, Would get his pardon if your grace would send. Gor. How is my soul environed with cares ! And this eternized city, Babylon, Filled with a pack of faint-heart fugitives That thus entreat their shame and servitude ! Enter another Citizen. znd Cit, My lord, if ever you will win our hearts, Yield up the town and save our wives and children : For I will cast myself from off these walls Or die some death of quickest violence Before I bide the wrath of Tamburlaine. Gov. Villains, cowards, traitors to our state ! Fall to the earth and pierce the pit of hell, That legions of tormenting spirits may vex Your slavish bosoms with continual pains ! I care not, nor the town will ever yield, As long as any life is in my breast. Enter THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, with Soldiers. Ther. Thou desperate governor of Babylon, 152 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT v. To save thy life, and us a little labour, Yield speedily the city to our hands, Or elsa be sure thou shalt be forced with pains, More exquisite than ever traitor felt. Gov. Tyrant ! I turn the traitor in thy throat, And will defend it in despite of thee. Call up the soldiers to defend these walls ! Tech. Yield, foolish governor ; we offer more Than ever yet we did to such proud slaves As durst resist us till our third day's siege. Thou seest us prest to give the last assault, And that shall bide no more regard of parley. Gov. Assault and spare not ; we will never yield. [Alarms : and they scale the walls. Enter TAMBURLAINE drawn in his chariot by the KINGS of TREBIZOND and SORIA; AMYRAS, CELEBINUS, and USUMCASANE; with the two spare KINGS^NATOLIA and JERUSALEM led by Soldiers ; and others. Tamb. The stately buildings of fair Babylon, Whose lofty pillars, higher than the clouds, Were wont to guide the seaman in the deep, Being carried thither by the cannon's force, Now fill the mouth of Limnasphaltis' lake And make a bridge unto the battered walls. Where Belus, Ninus, and great Alexander Have rode in triumph, triumphs Tamburlaine, Whose chariot wheels have burst the Assyrians' bones, Drawn with these kings on heaps of carcases. Now in the place where fair Semiramis, Courted by kings and peers of Asia, Hath trod the measures, 1 do my soldiers march ; And In the streets, where brave Assyrian dames 1 A slow stately dance. SCENE i.] PART THE SECOND. 153 Have rid in pomp like rich Saturnia, With furious words and frowning visages My horsemen brandish their unruly blades. Re-enter THERIDAMAS and TECHELLES, bringing in the GOVERNOR of BABYLON. Who have ye there, my lords ?. T/ier. The sturdy governor of Babylon, That made us all the labour for the town, And used such slender reckoning of your majesty. Tamb. Go, bind the villain ; he shall hang in chains Upon the ruins of this conquered town. Sirrah, the view of our vermilion tents, (Which threatened more than if the region Next underneath the element of fire Were full of comets and of blazing stars, Whose flaming trains should reach down to the earth,) Could not affright you ; no. nor I myself, The wrathful messenger of mighty Jove, That with his sword hath quailed all earthly kings, Could not persuade you to submission, But still the ports l were shut ; villain ! I say, Should I but touch the rusty gates of hell, The triple-headed Cerberus would howl And make black Jove to crouch and kneel to me ; But I have sent volleys of shot to you, Yet could not enter till the breach was made. Gov. Nor, if my body could have stopt the breach, Should'st thou have entered, cruel Tamburlaine. Tis not thy bloody tents can make me yield, Nor yet thyself, the anger of the Highest, For though thy cannon shook the city walls, My heart did never quake, or courage faint. 1 Gates. 154 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT V. Tamb. Well, now I'll make it quake ; go draw him up, Hang him in chains upon the city walls, And let my soldiers shoot the slave to death. Gov. Vile monster ! born of some infernal hag, And sent from hell to tyrannise on earth, Do all thy worst ; nor death, nor Tamburlaine, Torture, nor pain, can daunt my dreadless mind. Tamb. Up with him, then ; his body shall be scared. Gov. But, Tamburlaine, in Limnasphaltis' lake There lies more gold than Babylon is worth, Which when the city was besieged, I hid. Save but my life and I will give it thee. Tamb. Then for all your valour you would save your life? Whereabout lies it ? Gov. Under a hollow bank, right opposite Against the western gate of Babylon. Tamb. Go thither, some of you, and take his gold ; [Exeunt some of the Attendants. The rest forward with execution ! Away with him hence, let him speak no more. I think I make your courage something quail. [Exeunt other Attendants with the GOVERNOR of BABYLON. When this is done, we'll march from Babylon, And make our greatest haste to Persia. These jades are broken-winded and half tired, Unharness them, and let me have fresh horse. [Attendants unharness the KINGS of TREBI- ZOND and SORIA. So, now their best is done to honour me, Take them and hang them both up presently. K. of Treb. Vile tyrant ! barbarous bloody Tambur- laine ! SCENE I.] PART THE SECOND. 155 Tamb. Take them away, Theridamas ; see them de- spatched. Ther. I will, my lord. \Exit with the KINGS ^/"TREBIZOND and SORIA. Tamb. Come, Asian viceroys ; to your tasks awhile, And take such fortune as your fellows felt. Ore. First let thy Scythian horse tear both our limbs. Rather than we should draw thy chariot, And like base slaves abject our princely minds To vile and ignominious servitude. K. offer. Rather lend me thy weapon, Tamburlaine, That I may sheathe it in this breast of mine. A thousand deaths could not torment our hearts More than the thought of this doth vex our souls. Amy. They will talk still, my lord, if you don't bridle them. Tamb. Bridle them, and let me to my coach. \They bridle the KINGS of NATOLIA and JERU- SALEM and harness them to the chariot. The GOVERNOR is seen hanging in chains on the walls. Re-enter THERIDAMAS. Amy. See now, my lord, how brave the captain hangs. Tamb. 'Tis brave indeed, my boy ; well done. Shoot first, my lord, and then the rest shall follow. Ther. Then have at him to begin withal. [THERIDAMAS shoots at the GOVERNOR. Gov. Yet save my life, and let this wound appease The mortal fury of great Tamburlaine. Tamb. No, though Asphallis' lake were liquid gold, And offered me as ransom for thy life, Yet should'st thou die. Shoot at him all at once. \They shoot. So now he hangs like Bagdet's governor, 156 TAMBURLA1NE THE GREAT. [ACT V- Having as many bullets in his flesh As there be breaches in her battered wall. Go now, and bind the burghers hand and foot, And cast them headlong in the city's lake. Tartars and Persians shall inhabit there, And to command the city, I will build A lofty citadel that all Africa, Which hath been subject to the Persian king, Shall pay me tribute for in Babylon. Tech. What shall be done with their wives and children, my lord ? Tamb. Techelles, drown them all, man, woman, and child. Leave not a Babylonian in the town. Tech. I will about it straight. Come, soldiers. [Exit with Soldiers. Tamb. Now, Casane, where's the Turkish Alcoran, And all the heaps of superstitious-books Found in the temples of .that Mahomet, Whom I have thought a god ? They shall be burnt. Usum. Here they are, my lord. Tamb. Well said ; let there be a fire presently. [They light a fire. In vain, I see, men worship Mahomet : My sword hath sent millions of Turks to hell, Slain all his priests, his kinsmen, and his friends, And yet I live untouched by Mahomet. There is a God, full of revenging wrath, From whom the thunder and the lightning breaks, Whose scourge I am, and him will I obey : So, Casane, fling them in the fire. \They burn the books. Now, Mahomet, if thou have any power, Come down thyself and work a miracle : Thou art not worthy to be worshipped, SCENE I.] PART THE SECOND. 157 That suffers flame of fire to burn the writ Wherein the sum of thy religion rests. Why send'st thou not a furious whirlwind down To blow thy Alcoran up to thy throne, Where men report thou sit'st by God himself? Or vengeance on the head of Tamburlaine That shakes his sword against thy majesty, And spurns the abstracts of thy foolish laws ? Well, soldiers, Mahomet remains in hell ; He cannot hear the voice of Tamburlaine ; Seek out another Godhead to adore, The God that sits in Heaven, if any God ; For he is God alone, and none but he. Re-enter TECHELLES. Tech. I have fulfilled your highness' will, my lord. Thousands of men, drowned in Asphaltis' lake, Have make the waters swell above the banks, And fishes, fed by human carcases, Amazed, swim up and down upon the waves, As when they swallow assafoetida, Which makes them fleet 1 aloft and gape for air. Tamb. Well then, my friendly lords, what now remains, But that we leave sufficient garrison, And presently depart to Persia To triumph after all our victories ? Ther. Ay, good my lord ; let us in haste to Persia, And let this captain be removed the walls To some high hill about the city here. Tamb. Let it be so ; about it, soldiers ; But stay ; I feel myself distempered suddenly. Tech. What is it dares distemper Tamburlaine ? Tamb. Something, Techelles ; but I know not what 1 Float. 158 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT, [ACT v But forth, ye vassals ! whatsoe'er it be, Sickness or death can never conquer me. \_Exntnt. SCENE II. Enter CALLAPINE, the KING of AMASIA, a Captain and Soldiers, with drums and trumpets. Call. King of Amasia, now our mighty host Marcheth in Asia Major where the streams Of Euphrates and Tigris swiftly run, And here may we behold great Babylon Circled about with Limnasphaltis' lake Where Tamburlaine with all his army lies, Which being faint and weary with the siege, We may lie ready to encounter him Before his host be full from Babylon, And so revenge our latest grievous loss, If God or Mahomet send any aid. K. of A in a. Doubt not, my lord, but we shall conquer him. The monster that hath drunk a sea of blood, And yet gapes still for more to quench his thirst, Our Turkish swords shall headlong send to hell, And that vile carcase drawn by warlike kings The fowls shall eat ; for never sepulchre Shall grace this base-born tyrant Tamburlaine. Call. When I record 1 my parents' slavish life, Their cruel death, mine own captivity, My viceroy's bondage under Tamburlaine, Methinks I could sustain a thousand deaths To be revenged of all his villany. 1 Recall. SCENE ii.] PART THE SECOND. 159 Ah, sacred Mahomet ! thou that hast seen Millions of Turks perish by Tamburlaine, Kingdoms made waste, brave cities sacked and burnt. And but one host is left to honour thee, Aid thy obedient servant, Callapine, And make him after all these overthrows To triumph over cursed Tamburlaine. K. of Am a. Fear not, my lord ; I see great Mahomet Clothed in purple clouds, and on his head A chaplet brighter than Apollo's crown, Marching about the air with armed men To join with you against this Tamburlaine. Capt. Renowned general, mighty Callapine, Though God himself and holy Mahomet Should come in person to resist your power, Yet might your mighty host encounter all, And pull proud Tamburlaine upon his knees To sue for mercy at your highness' feet. Call. Captain, the force of Tamburlaine is great, His fortune greater, and the victories Wherewith he hath so sore dismayed the world Are greatest to discourage all our drifts ; Yet when the pride of Cynthia is at full, She wanes again, and so shall his, I hope ; For we have here the chief selected men Of twenty several kingdoms at the least ; Nor ploughman, priest, nor merchant, stays at home ; All Turkey is in arms with Callapine ; And never will we sunder camps and arms Before himself or his be conquered. This is the time that must eternise me For conquering the tyrant of the world. Come, soldiers, let us lie in wait for him, And if we find him absent from his camp, 160 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT v. Or that it be rejoined again at full, Assail it and be sure of victory. \_Exeunt. SCENE III. Enter THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, and USUMCASANE, Ther. Weep, heavens, and vanish into liquid tears ! Fall, stars that govern his nativity, And summon all the shining lamps of Heaven To cast their bootless fires to the earth, And shed their feeble influence in the air ; Muffle your beauties with eternal clouds, For Hell and Darkness pitch their pitchy tents, And Death with armies of Cimmerian spirits Gives battle 'gainst the heart of Tamburlaine ! Now in defiance of that wonted love Your sacred virtues poured upon his throne And made his state an honour to the Heavens, These cowards invisible assail his soul, And threaten conquest on our sovereign ; But if he die your glories are disgraced ; Earth droops and says that hell in. Heaven is placed. Tech. O then, ye powers that sway eternal seats And guide this massy substance of the earth, If you retain desert of holiness As your supreme estates instruct our thoughts, Be not inconstant, careless of your fame, Bear not the burthen of your enemies' joys Triumphing in his fail whom you advanced, But as his birth, life, health, and majesty Were strangely blest and governed by Heaven, So honour, Heaven, (till Heaven dissolved be) His birth, his life, his health, and majesty ! SCENE in.] PART THE SECOND. ' 161 Usum. Blush, Heaven, to lose the honour of thy name ! To see thy footstool set upon thy head ! And let no baseness in thy haughty breast Sustain a shame of such inexcellence, To see the devils mount in angels' thrones, And angels dive into the pools of hell ! And though they think their painful date is out, And that their power is puissant as Jove's, Which makes them manage arms against thy state, Yet make them feel the strength of Tamburlaine, (Thy instrument and note of majesty,) Is greater far than they can thus subdue : For if he die thy glory is disgraced ; Earth droops and says that hell in Heaven is placed. Enter TAMBURLAINE drawn in his chariot by the captive Kings as before ; AMYRAS, CELEBINUS, and Physicians. Tamb. What daring god torments my body thus, And seeks to conquer mighty Tamburlaine ? Shall sickness prove me now to be a man, That have been termed the terror of the world ? Techelles and the rest, come, take your swords, And threaten him whose hand afflicts my soul. Come, let us march against the powers of Heaven, And set black streamers in the firmament, To signify the slaughter of the gods. Ah, friends, what shall I do ? I cannot stand. Come carry me to war against the gods That thus envy the health of Tamburlaine. Ther. Ah, good my lord, leave these impatient words, Which add much danger to your malady. Tamb. Why, shall I sit and languish in this pain ? No, strike the drums, and in revenge of this, Come, let us charge our spears and pierce his breast. Mar. ,\[ 162 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT v. Whose shoulders bear the axis of the world, That, if I perish, Heaven and earth may fade. Theridamas, haste to the court of Jove, Will him to send Apollo hither straight, To cure me, or I'll fetch him down myself. Tech. Sit still, my gracious lord ; this grief will cease, And cannot last, it is so violent. Tamb. Not last, Techelles ? No ! for I shall die. See, where my slave, the ugly monster, Death, Shaking and quivering, pale and wan for fear, Stands aiming at me with his murdering dart, Who flies away at every glance I give, And, when I look away, comes stealing on. Villain, away, and hie thee to the field ! I and mine army come to load thy back With souls of thousand mangled carcases. Look, where he goes ; but see, he comes again, Because I stay : Techelles, let us march And weary Death with bearing souls to hell. \st Phy. Pleaseth your majesty to drink this potion, Which will abate the fury of your fit, And cause some milder spirits govern you. Tamb. Tell me what think you of my sickness now ? \st Phy. I viewed your urine, and the hypostasis Thick and obscure, doth make your danger great ; Your veins are full of accidental heat, Whereby the moisture of your blood is dried. The humidum and calor, which some hold Is not a parcel of the elements, But of a substance more divine and pure, Is almost clean extinguished and spent ; Which, being the cause of life, imports your death. Besides, my lord, this day is critical, Dangerous to those whose crisis is as yours SCENE III.] PART THE SECOND. 163 Your artiers, which alongst the veins convey The lively spirits which the heart engenders, Are parched and void of spirits, that the soul, Wanting those organons by which it moves, Cannot endure, by argument of art. Yet, if your majesty may escape this day, No doubt but you shall soon recover all. Tainb. Then will I comfort all my vital parts, And live, in spite of death, above a day. \_Alarms within. Enter Messenger. Mes. My lord, young Callapine, that lately fled from your majesty, hath now gathered a fresh army, and hear- ing your absence in the field, offers to set upon us presently. Tamb. See, my physicians now, how Jove hath sent A present medicine to recure my pain. My looks shall make them fly, and might I follow, There should not one of all the villain's power Live to give offer of another fight. Usum. I joy, my lord, your highness is so strong, That can endure so well your royal presence, Which only will dismay the enemy. Tamb. I know it will, Casane. Draw, you slaves ; In spite of death, I will go show my face. \Alarums. Exit TAMBURLAINE and the resf, with the exception of the Physicians. They all presently re-enter. Tamb. Thus are the villain cowards fled for fear, Like summer's vapours vanished by the sun ; And could I but awhile pursue the field, That Callapine should be my slave again. But I perceive my martial strength is spent. In vain I strive and rail against those powers, M 2 1 64 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT v. That mean to invest me in a higher throne, As much too high for this disdainful earth. Give me a map ; then let me see how much Is left for me to conquer all the world, That these, my boys, may finish all my wants. \0ne brings a m.rp. Here I began to march towards Persia, Along Armenia and the Caspian Sea, And thence unto Bithynia, where I took The Turk and his great Empress prisoners. Thence marched I into Egypt and Arabia, And here, not far from Alexandria, Whereas the Terrene and the Red Sea meet, Being distant less than full a hundred leagues, I meant to cut a channel to them both, That men might quickly sail to India. 1 From thence to Nubia near Borno lake, 1 Bullen (following Cunningham) points to this as an anticipation of the present Suez Canal, but a canal extending from the most eastern branch of the Nile in the neighbourhood of Bubastis to Arsinoe (Suez) on the Red Sea was commenced by Sesostris, who reigned 1394 1328 B.C., and was completed by Ptolemy Philadelphia II. about 277 B.C. It had become partly silted up when Amrou, the Arab conqueror of Egypt, restored and extended it in the direction of Old Cairo. He wanted to bring the end of it directly into the Mediterranean instead of into the Nile, but Omar the Caliph, fearing that the Mediterranean corsairs would then be able to sail direct into the Red Sea, forbade this. It was filled up by AH Mansour in 775, to hinder the passage of the rebel troops from Arabia ; but traces of it remain, and its course is partly followed by the existing Suez Canal. Marlowe's lines, however, were evidently inspired by the follow- ing fact. Vasco de Gama's discovery of the sea- route to India by the Cape of Good Hope in 1497 having dealt a terrible blow to the commercial prosperity of Venice it may be said, indeed, to have led to its ruin the Venetian Republic at the beginning of the sixteenth century wished, if possible, to pierce the Isthmus of Suez according to a plan laid before them by Niccolo da Conti. The project was started, but the Mameluke Sultans of Egypt opposed it, and the Republic not being strong enough to carry it out by force, it had to be given up. SCENE in.] PART THE SECOND. 165 And so along the ^Ethiopian sea, Cutting the Tropic line of Capricorn, I conquered all as far as Zanzibar. Then, by the northern part of Africa, I came at last to Graecia, and from thence To Asia, where I stay against my will ; Which is from Scythia, where I first began, Backwards and forwards near five thousand leagues. Look here, my boys ; see what a world of ground Lies westward from the midst of Cancer's line, Unto the rising of this earthly globe ; ' Whereas the sun, declining from our sight, Begins the day with our Antipodes ! And shall I die, and this unconquered? Lo, here, my sons, are all the golden mines, Inestimable drugs and precious stones, More worth than Asia and the world beside ; And from the Antarctic Pole eastward behold As much more land, which never was descried, Wherein are rocks of pearl that shine as bright As all the lamps that beautify the sky ! And shall I die, and this unconquered ? Here, lovely boys ; what death forbids my life, That let your lives command in spite of death. Amy. Alas, my lord, how should our bleeding hearts, Wounded and broken with your highness' grief, Retain a thought of joy or spark of life? Your soul gives essence to our wretched subjects, Whose matter is incorporate in your flesh. Cel. Your pains do pierce our souls; no hope survives, For by your life we entertain our lives. Tamb. But, sons, this subject, not of force enough To hold the fiery spirit it contains, Must part, imparting his impressions 1 66 TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT. [ACT v. By equal portions into both your breasts ; My flesh, divided in your precious shapes, Shall still retain my spirit, though I die, And live in all your seeds immortally. Then now remove me, that I may resign My place and proper title to my son. First, take my scourge and my imperial crown, And mount my royal chariot of estate, That I may see thee crowned before I die. Help me, my lords, to make my last remove. [T/iey lift him from the chariot. Ther. A woful change, my lord, that daunts our thoughts, More than the ruin of our proper souls ! Tamb. Sit up, my son, and let me see how well Thou wilt become thy father's majesty. Amy. With what a flinty bosom should I joy The breath of life and burthen of my soul, If not resolved into resolved pains, My body's mortified lineaments Should exercise the motions of my heart, Pierced with the joy of any dignity ! O father ! if the unrelenting ears Of death and hell be shut against my prayers, And that the spiteful influence of Heaven, Deny my soul fruition of her joy ; How should I step, or stir my hateful feet Against the inward powers of my heart, Leading a life that only strives to die, And plead in vain unpleasing sovereignty ? Tamb. Let not thy love exceed thine honour, son, Nor bar thy mind that magnanimity That nobly must admit necessity. Sit up, my boy, and with those silken reins Bridle the steeled stomachs of those jades. SCENE in.] PART THE SECOND. 167 Ther. My lord, you must obey his majesty, Since fate commands and proud necessity. Amy. Heavens witness me with what a broken heart And damned spirit I ascend this seat, And send my soul, before my father die, His anguish and his burning agony ! \They crown AMYRAS. Tamb. Now fetch the hearse of fair Zenocrate ; Let it be placed by this my fatal chair, And serve as parcel of my funeral. Usum. Then feels your majesty no sovereign ease, Nor may our hearts, all drowned in tears of blood, Joy any hope of your recovery? Tamb. Casane, no ; the monarch of the earth, And eyeless monster that torments my soul, Cannot behold the tears ye shed for me, And therefore still augments his cruelty. Tech. Then let some God oppose his holy power Against the wrath and tyranny of Death, That his tear-thirsty and unquenched hate May be upon himself reverberate ! \They bring in the hearse . Come, therefore, let us go to Barabas, For he can counsel best in these affairs ; And here he comes. Bar. Why, how now, countrymen ! Why flock you thus to me in multitudes ? What accident's betided to the Jews ? \st Jew. A fleet of warlike galleys, Barabas, Are come from Turkey, and lie in our road : And they this day sit in the council-house To entertain them and their embassy. Bar. Why, let 'em come, so they come not to war ; Or let 'em war, so we be conquerors Nay, let 'em combat, conquer, and kill all ! . So they spare me, my daughter, and my wealth. [Aside. \st. Jew. Were it for confirmation of a league, They would not come in warlike manner thus. 2nd Jew. I fear their coming will afflict us all. Bar. Fond- men ! what dream you of their multitudes. What need they treat of peace that are in league ? The Turks and those of -Malta are in league. Tut, tut, there is some other matter in't. \stjeiv. Why, Barabas, they come for peace or war. 1 The scene is here supposed to be shifted to a street or to the Exchange. 2 i.e. Foolish. SCENE i.] THE JEW OF MALTA, 239 Bar. Haply for neither, but to pass along Towards Venice by the Adriatic Sea; With whom they have attempted many times, But never could effect their stratagem. i>rdjeui. And very wisely said. It may be so. 2nd Jew. But there's a meeting in the senate-house, And all the Jews in Malta must be there. Bar. Hum ; all the Jews in Malta must be there? Ay, like enough, why then let every man Provide him, and be there for fashion-sake. If anything shall there conceni our state, Assure yourselves I'll look unto myself. \Aside. ist Jeiv. I know you will. Well, brethren, let us go. 2nd Jew. Let's take ou leaves. Farewell, good Barabas. Bar. Farewell, Zaareth ; farewell, Temainte. \Exeunt Jews. And, Barabas, now search this secret out ; Summon thy senses, call thy wits together : These silly men mistake the matter clean. Long to the Turk did Malta contribute ; Which tribute, all in policy I fear, The Turks have let increase to such a sum As all the wealth of Malta cannot pay ; And now by that advantage thinks belike To seize upon the town : ay, that he seeks. Howe'er the world go, I'll make sure for one, And seek in time to intercept the worst, Warily guarding that which I ha' got. Ego mihimet sum semper proximus? Why, let 'em enter, let 'em take the town. \Exit. 1 Misquoted from Terence's Andria, iv. i, 12. The words should be " Proximus sum egomet mihi." 240 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT i. SCENE II. Enter FERNEZE, Governor of Malta, Knights, and Officers ; met by CALYMATH and Bassoes of the Turk. 1 Fern. Now, Bassoes, 2 what demand you at our hands ? ist Bas. Know, Knights of Malta, that we came from Rhodes, From Cyprus, Candy, and those other Isles That lie betwixt the Mediterranean seas. Fern. What's Cyprus, Candy, and those other Isles To us, or Malta ? What at our hands demand ye ? Cal. The ten years' tribute that remains unpaid. Fern. Alas ! my lord, the sum is over-great, I hope your highness will consider us. Cal. I wish, grave governor, 'twere in my power To favour you, but 'tis my father's cause, Wherein I may not, nay, I dare not dally. Fern. Then give us leave, great Selim Calymath. [Consults apart with the Knights. Cal. Stand all aside, and let the knights determine, And send to keep our galleys under sail, For happily ;i we shall not tarry here ; Now, governor, say, how are you resolved ? Fern. Thus : since your hard conditions are such That you will needs have ten years' tribute past, We may have time to make collection Amongst the inhabitants of Malta for't. isf Bas. That's more than is in our commission. Cal. What, Callipine ! a little courtesy. Let's know their time, perhaps it is not long ; And 'tis more kingly to obtain by peace 1 The scene is supposed to be inside the council-house. 2 Bashaws or Pashas. 3 i.e. Haply. SCENE II.] THE JEW OP MALTA. 241 Than to enforce conditions by constraint. What respite ask you, governor ? Fern. But a month. Cal. We grant a month, but see you keep your promise. Now launch our galleys back again to sea, Where we'll attend the respite you have ta'en, And for the money send our messenger. Farewell, great governor and brave Knights of Malta. Fern. And all good fortune wait on Calymath ! [Exeunt CALYMATH and Bassoes. Go one and call those Jews of Malta hither : Were they not summoned to appear to-day ? Off. They were, my lord, and here they come. Enter BAR ABAS and three Jews. ist Knight. Have you determined what to say to them ? Fern. Yes, give me leave. : and, Hebrews, now come near. From the Emperor of Turkey is arrived Great Selim Calymath, his highness' son, To levy of us ten years' tribute past, Now then, here know that it concerneth us Bar. Then, good my lord, to keep your quiet still, Your lordship shall do well to let them have it. Fern. Soft, Barabas, there's more 'longs to 't than so. To what this ten years' tribute will amount, That we have cast, but cannot compass it By reason of the wars that robbed our store ; And therefore are we to request your aid. Bar. Alas, my lord, we are no soldiers : And what's our aid against so great a prince ? is? Knight. Tut, Jew, we know thou art no soldier ; Thou art a merchant and a moneyed man, And 'tis thy money, Barabas, we seek. Mar. * 242 THE JEW OF MALTA, [ACT I. Bar. How, my lord ! my money ? Fern. Thine and the rest. For, to be short, amongst you't must be had. i st Jew. Alas, my lord, the most of us are poor. Fern. Then let the rich increase your portions. Bar. Are strangers with your tribute to be taxed ? 2nd Knight. Have strangers leave with us to get their wealth ? Then let them with us contribute. Bar. How ! equally ? Fern. No, Jew, like infidels. For through our sufferance of your hateful lives, Who stand accursed in the sight of Heaven, These taxes and afflictions are befallen, And therefore thus we are determined. Read there the articles of our decrees. Officer (reads) " First, the tribute-money of the Turks shall all be levied amongst the Jews, and each of them to pay one half of his estate." Bar. How, half his estate ? I hope you mean not mine. \_Aside. Fern. Read on. Off. (reading). "Secondly, he that denies 1 to pay shall straight become a Christian." Bar. How ! a Christian ? Hum, what's here to do ? [Aside. Off. (reading}. " Lastly, he that denies this shall absolutely lose all he has." The three Jews. O my lord, we will giv'e half. Bar. O earth-mettled villains, and no Hebrews born ! And will you basely thus submit yourselves To leave your goods to their arbitrament ? Fern. Why, Barabas, wilt thou be christenbd ? 1 Refuses. SCENE II.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 243 Bar. No, governor, I will be no convertite. 1 Fern. Then pay thy half. Bar. Why, know you what you did by this device ? Half of my substance is a city's wealth. Governor, it was not got so easily ; Nor will I part so slightly therewithal. Fern. Sir, half is the penalty of our decree, Either pay that, or we will seize on all. Bar. Corpo di Dio ! stay ! you shall have the half; Let me be used but as my brethren are. Fern. No, Jew, thou hast denied the articles, And now it cannot be recalled. {Exeunt Officers, on a sign from FERNEZE. Bar. Will you then steal my goods ? Is theft the ground of your religion ? Fern. No, Jew, we take particularly thine To save the ruin of a multitude : And better one want for the common good Than many perish for a private man : Yet, Barabas, we will not banish thee, But here in Malta, where thou gott'st thy wealth, Live still ; and, if thou canst, get more. Bar. Christians, what or how can I multiply ? Of naught is nothing made. isf Knight. From naught at first thou cam'st to little wealth, From little unto more, from more to most : If your first curse fall heavy on thy head, And make thee poor and scorned of all the world, 'Tis not our fault, but thy inherent sin. Bar. What, bring you Scripture to confirm your wrongs ? Preach me not out of my possessions. 1 i.e. Convert. 241 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT i Some Jews are wicked, as all Christians are : But say the tribe that I descended of Were all in general cast away for sin, Shall I be tried by their transgression ? The man that dealeth righteously shall live : And which of you can charge me otherwise ? Fern. Out, wretched Barabas ! Sham'st thou not thus to justify thyself, As if we knew not thy profession ? If thou rely upon thy righteousness, Be patient and thy riches will increase. Excess of wealth is cause of covetousness : And covetousness, O, 'tis a monstrous sin. , Bar. Ay, but theft is worse : tush ! take not from me then, For that is theft ! and if you rob me thus, I must be forced to steal and compass more. ist Knight. Grave governor, listen not to his exclaims. Convert his mansion to a nunnery ; His house will harbour many holy nuns. Fern. It shall be so. Re-enter Officers. Now, officers, have you done ? Off. Ay, my lord, we have seized upon the goods And wares of Barabas, which being valued, Amount to more than all the wealth in Malta. And of the other we have seized half. Fern. Then we'll take order for the residue. Bar. Well then, my lord, say, are you satisfied ? You have my goods, my money, and my wealth, My ships, my store, and all that I enjoyed ; And, having all, you can request no more ; Unless your unrelenting flinty hearts SCENE ii.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 245 Suppress all pity in your stony breasts, And now shall move you to bereave my life. Fern. No, Barabas, to stain our hands with blood Is far from us and our profession: Bar. Why, I esteem the injury far less To take the lives of miserable men Than be the causers of their misery. You have my wealth, the labour of my life, The comfort of mine age, my children's hope, And therefore ne'er distinguish of the wrong. Fern. Content thee, Barabas, thou hast naught but right. Bar. Your extreme right does me exceeding wrong : But take it to you, i' the devil's name. Fern. Come, let us in, and gather of these goods The money for this tribute of the Turk. \st Knight. 'Tis necessary that be looked unto : For if we break our day, we break the league, And that will prove but simple policy. \Exennt all except BARABAS and the Jews. Bar. Ay, policy ! that's their profession, And not simplicity, as they suggest. The plagues of Egypt, and the curse of Heaven, Earth's barrenness, and all men's hatred Inflict upon them, thou great Primus Motor ! And here upon my knees, striking the earth, I ban their souls to everlasting pains And extreme tortures of the fiery deep, That thus have dealt with me in my distress. \st Jew. O yet be patient, gentle Barabas. B a ar. O silly brethren, born to see this day ; Why stand you thus unmoved with my laments ? Why weep you not to think upon my wrongs ? Why pine not I, and die in this distress ? ist Jew. Why, Barabas, as hardly can we brook 246 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT I. The cruel handling of ourselves in this ; Thou seest they have taken half our goods. Bar. Why did you yield to their extortion ? You were a multitude, and I but one : And of me only have they taken all. \st Jeiv. Yet, brother Barabas, remember Job. Bar. What tell you me of Job ? I wot his wealth Was written thus : he had seven thousand sheep, Three thousand camels, and two hundred yoke Of labouring oxen, and five hundred She-asses : but for every one of those, Had they been valued at indifferent rate, I had at home, and in mine argosy, And other ships that came from Egypt last, As much as would have bought his beasts and him. And yet have kept enough to live upon : So that not he, but I may curse the day, Thy fatal birth-day, forlorn Barabas ; And henceforth wish for an eternal night, That clouds of darkness may inclose my flesh, And hide these extreme sorrows from mine eyes : For only I have toiled to inherit here The months of vanity and loss of time, And painful nights, have been appointed me. 2nd Jew. Good Barabas, be patient. Bar. Ay, I pray, leave me in my patience. You, Were ne'er possessed of wealth, are pleased with want ; But give him liberty at least to mourn, That in a field amidst his enemies Doth see his soldiers slain, himself disarmed, And knows no means of. his recovery: Ay, let me sorrow for this sudden chance ; 'Tis in the trouble of my spirit I speak ; Great injuries are not so soon forgot. SCENE H.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 247 i st Jew. Come, let us leave him ; in his ireful mood Our words will but increase his ecstasy. 1 2nd Jew. On, then ; but trust me 'tis a misery To see a man in such affliction. Farewell, Barabas ! [Exeunt the three Jews. 2 Bar, Ay, fare you well. See the simplicity of these base slaves, Who, for the villains have no wit themselves, Think me to be a senseless lump of clay That will with every water wash to dirt : No, Barabas is born to better chance, And framed of finer mould than common men, That measure naught but by the present time. A reaching thought will search his deepest wits, And cast with cunning for the time to come : For evils are apt to happen every day. Enter ABIGAIL. But whither wends my beauteous Abigail ? O ! what has made my lovely daughter sad ? What, woman ! moan not for a little loss : Thy father hath enough in store for thee. Abig. Not for myself, but aged Barabas : Father, for thee lamenteth Abigail : But I will learn to leave these fruitless tears, And, urged thereto with my afflictions, With fierce exclaims run to the senate-house, And in the senate reprehend them all, And rend their hearts with tearing of my hair, Till they reduce 3 the wrongs done to my father. 1 Violent emotion. J Dyce suggests that on the Jews' departure the scene is supposed to shift to a street near Barabas's house., 3 i.e. Repair. 248 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT i. Bar. No, Abigail, things past recovery Are hardly cured with exclamations. Be silent, daughter, sufferance breeds ease, And time may yield us an occasion Which on the sudden cannot serve the turn. Besides, my girl, think me not all so fond l As negligently to forego so much Without provision for thyself and me, Ten thousand portagues, 2 besides great pearls, Rich costly jewels, and stones infinite, Fearing the worst of this before it fell, I closely hid. Abig. Where, father? Bar. In my house, my girl. Abig. Then shall they ne'er be seen of Barabas : For they have seized upon thy house and wares. Bar. But they will give me leave once more, I trow, To go into my house. Abig. That may they not : For there I left the governor placing nuns, Displacing me ; and of thy house they mean To make a nunnery, where none but their own sect 3 Must enter in ; men generally barred. Bar. My gold ! my gold ! and all my wealth is gone You partial heavens, have I deserved this plague ? What, will you thus oppose me, luckless stars, To make me desperate in my poverty ? And knowing me impatient in distress, Think me so mad as I will hang myself, That I may vanish o'er the earth in air, And leave no memory that e'er I was ? No, I will live ; nor loathe I this my life : 1 Foolish. " Portuguese gold coins. 3 i.e. Sex. SCENE ii.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 249 And, since you leave me in the ocean thus To sink or swim, and put me to my shifts, I'll rouse my senses and awake myself. Daughter ! I have it : thou perceiv'st the plight Wherein these Christians have oppressed me : Be ruled by me, for in extremity We ought to make bar of no policy. Abig. Father, whate'er it be to injure them That have so manifestly wronged us, What will not Abigail attempt ? Bar. Why, so ; Then thus, thou told'st me they have turned my house Into a nunnery, and some nuns are there ? Abig. I did. Bar. Then, Abigail, there must my girl Entreat the abbess to be entertained. Abig. How, as a nun ? Bar Ay, daughter, for religion Hides many mischiefs from suspicion. Abig. Ay, but, father, they will suspect me there. Bar. Let 'em suspect ; but be thou so precise As they may think it done of holiness. Entreat 'em fair, and give them friendly speech, And seem to them as if thy sins were great, Till thou hast gotten to be entertained. Abig. Thus, father, shall I much dissemble. Bar. Tush ! As good dissemble that thou never mean'st, As first mean truth and then dissemble it, A counterfeit profession is better Than unseen hypocrisy. Abig. Well, father, say that I be entertained, What then shall follow ? Bar. This shall follow, then ; 250 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT r. There have I hid, close underneath the plank That runs along the upper- chamber floor, The gold and jewels which I kept for thee. But here they come ; be cunning, Abigail. Abig, Then, father, go with me. Bar. No, Abigail, in this It is not necessary I be seen : For I will seem offended with thee for't : Be close, my girl, for this must fetch my gold. [ They retire. Enter Friar JACOMO, Friar BARNARDINE, Abbess, and a Nun. F. Jac. Sisters, we now are almost at the new-made nunnery. Abb. The better ; for we love not to be seen : 'Tis thirty winters long since some of us Did stray so far amongst the multitude. F. Jac. But, madam, this house And waters of this new-made nunnery Will much delight you. Abb. It may be so ; but who comes here ? [ABIGAIL comes forward. Abig. Grave abbess, and you, happy virgins' guide, Pity the state of a distressed maid. Abb. What art thou, daughter ? Abig, The hopeless daughter of a hapless Jew, The Jew of Malta, wretched Barabas ; Sometime the owner of a goodly house, Which they have now "turned to a nunnery. Abb. Well, daughter, say, what is thy suit with us ? Abig. Fearing the afflictions which my father feels Proceed from sin, or want of faith in us, I'd pass away my life in penitence, SCENE ii.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 251 And be a novice in your nunnery, To make atonement for my labouring soul. F. Jac. No doubt, brother, but this proceedeth of the spirit. F. Barn. Ay, and of a moving spirit too, brother ; but come, Let us entreat she may be entertained. Abb. Well, daughter, we admit you for a nun. Abig. First let me as a novice learn to frame My solitary life to your strait laws, And let me lodge where I was wont to lie, I do not doubt, by your divine precepts And mine own industry, but to profit much. Bar. As much, I hope, as all I hid is worth. \_Aside. Abb. Come, daughter, follow us. Bar. (coming forward}. Why, how now, Abigail, What makest thou amongst these hateful Christians ? F. Jac. Hinder her not, thou man of little faith, For she has mortified herself. Bar. How ! mortified ? F. Jac. And is admitted to the sisterhood. Bar. Child of perdition, and thy father's shame ! What wilt thou do among these hateful fiends ? I charge thee on my blessing that thou leave These devils, and their damned heresy. Abig. Father, forgive me [She goes to him. Bar. Nay, back, Abigail, (And think upon the jewels and the gold; [Aside to ABIGAIL in a whisper. The board is marked thus that covers it.) Away, accursed, from thy father's sight. F. Jac. Barabas, although thou art in misbelief, And wilt not see thine own afflictions, Yet let thy daughter be no longer blind. 252 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT i. Bar. Blind friar, I reck not thy persuasions, (The board is marked thus l that covers it.) \Aside to ABIGAIL in a whisper. For I had rather die than see her thus. Wilt thou forsake me too in my distress, Seduced daughter? (Go, forget not,) \_Asideinaivhisper. Becomes it Jews to be so credulous ? (To-morrow early I'll be at the door.) \Asidcinawhispcr. No, come not at me ; if thou wilt be damned, Forget me, see me not, and so be gone. (Farewell, remember to-morrow morning.) [Aside in a whisper. Out, out, thou wretch ! \Exeunt, on one side BARABAS, on the other side Friars, Abbess, Nun, and ABIGAIL ; as they are going out, J'. 'nter MATH i AS. Math. Who's this? fair Abigail, the rich Jew's daughter, Become a nun ! her father's sudden fall Has humbled her and brought her down to this : Tut, she were fitter for a tale of love, Than to be tired out with orisons : And better would she far become a bed, Embraced in a friendly lover's arms, Than rise at midnight to a solemn mass. Enter LODOWICK. Lod. Why, how now, Don Mathias ! in a dump ? Math. Believe me, noble Lodowick, I have seen The strangest sight, in my opinion, That ever I beheld. 1 The old edition has t inserted here, presumably to indicate the sign that Barabas was to make with his hand. SCENE II.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 253 Lod. What was't, I prithee ? Math. A fair young maid, scarce fourteen years of age, The sweetest flower in Cytherea's field, Cropt from the pleasures of the fruitful earth, And strangely metamorphosed nun. Lod. But say, what was she ? Math. Why, the rich Jew's daughter. Lod. What, Barabas, whose goods were lately seized ? Is she so fair ? Math. And matchless beautiful ; As, had you seen her, 'twould have moved your heart, Though countermined with walls of brass, to love, Or at the least to pity. Lod. And if she be so fair as you report, 'Twere time well spent to go and visit her : How say you, shall we ? Math. I must and will, sir ; there's no remedy. Lod. And so will I too, or it shall go hard. Farewell, Mathias. Math* Farewell, Lodowick. \_Exeunt severatty. ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I. Enter BAR ABAS with a light. l AR. Thus, like the sad presaging raven, that tolls The sick man's passport in her hollow beak, And in the shadow of the silent night Doth shake contagion from her sable Vexed and tormented runs poor Barabas [wings ; With fatal curses towards these Christians. The uncertain pleasures of swift-footed time Have ta'en their flight, and left me in despair ; And of my former riches rests no more But bare remembrance, like a soldier's scar, That has no further comfort for his maim. O thou, that with a fiery pillar led'st The sons of Israel through the dismal shades, Light Abraham's offspring ; and direct the hand Of Abigail this night ; or let the day Turn to eternal darkness after this ! No sleep can fasten on my watchful eyes, Nor quiet enter my distempered thoughts, Till I have answer of my Abigail. 1 The scene is before Barabas's house, now turned into a nunnery. SCENE I.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 255 Enter ABIGAIL above. Abig. Now have I happily espied a time To search the plank my father did appoint ; And here behold, unseen, where I have found The gold, the pearls, and jewels, which he hid. Bar. Now I remember those old women's words, Who in my wealth would tell me winter's tales, And speak of spirits and ghosts that glide by night About the place where treasure hath been hid : And now methinks that I am one of those : For whilst I live, here lives my soul's sole hope, And, when I die, here shall my spirit walk. Abig. Now that my father's fortune were so good As but to be about this happy place ; Tis not so happy : yet when we parted last, He said he would attend me in the morn. Then, gentle sleep, where'er his body rests, Give charge to Morpheus that he may dream A golden dream, and of the sudden wake, Come and receive the treasure I have found. . Bar. Bueno para todos mi ganado no era : As good go on as sit so sadly thus. But stay, what star shines yonder in the east ? The loadstar of my life, if Abigail. Who's there ? Abig. Who's that ? Bar. Peace, Abigail, 'tis I. Abig. Then, father, here receive thy happiness. Bar. Hast thou't ? Abig. Here, \_Throws down the bags] hast thou't ? There's more, and more, and more. Bar. O my girl, My gold, my fortune, my felicity ! 256 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT n. Strength to my soul, death to mine enemy ! Welcome the first beginner of my bliss ! O Abigail, Abigail, that I had thee here too ! Then my desires were fully satisfied : But I will practise thy enlargement thence : O girl ! O gold I 1 O beauty ! O my bliss ! [Hugs the bags. Abig. Father, it draweth towards midnight now, And 'bout this time the nuns begin to wake ; To shun suspicion, therefore, let us part. Bar. Farewell, my joy, and by my fingers take A kiss from him that sends it from his soul. [Exit ABIGAIL abore. Now Phcebus ope the eyelids of the day, And for the raven wake the morning lark, That I may hover with her in the air ; Singing o'er these, as she does o'er her young. Hermoso placer de los dineros. [Exit. SCENE II. Enter FERNEZE, MARTIN DEL Bosco, and Knights. Fern. Now, captain, tell us whither thou art bound ? Whence is thy ship that anchors in our road ? And why thou cam'st ashore without our leave ? Bosc. Governor of Malta, hither am I bound ; My ship, the Flying Dragon, is of Spain, And so am I : Del Bosco is my name ; Vice-admiral unto the Catholic King. \st Knight. 'Tis true, my lord, therefore entreat 2 him well. 1 We have a kind of echo of this in Shylock's " My daughter, O " &c. - i.e. Treat. SCENE ii.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 257 Bosc. Our fraught 1 is Grecians, Turks, and Afric Moors. For late upon the coast of Corsica, Because we vailed - not to the Turkish 3 fleet, Their creeping galleys had us in the chase : But suddenly the wind began to rise, And then \ve luffed and tacked/ and fought at ease : Some have we fired, and many have we sunk ; But one amongst the rest became our prize : The captain's slain, the rest remain our slaves, Of whom we would make sale in Malta here. Fern. Martin del Bosco, I have heard of thee ; Welcome to Malta, and to all of us ; But to admit a sale of these thy Turks We may not, nay, we dare not give consent By reason of a tributary league. \st Knight. Del Bosco, as thou lov'st and honour'st us, Persuade our governor against the Turk ; This truce we have is but in hope of gold, And with that sum he craves might we wage war. Bosc. Will Knights of Malta be in league with Turks, And buy it basely too for sums of gold? My lord, remember that, to Europe's shame, The Christian Isle of Rhodes, from whence you came, Was lately lost, and you were stated 5 here To be at deadly enmity with Turks. Fern. Captain, we know it, but our force is small. Bosc. What is the sum that Calymath requires ? Fern. A hundred thousand crowns. Bosc. My lord and king hath title to this isle, And he means quickly to expel you hence ; Therefore be ruled by me, and keep the gold : 1 Freight. - i.e. Did not lower our flags. 3 Old ed. " Spanish." 4 Old ed. "left and tooke. " The correction was made by Dyce. * Established. Man S 258 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT n. I'll write unto his majesty for aid, And not depart until I see you free. Fern. On this condition shall thy Turks be sold : Go, officers, and set them straight in show. \_Exeunt Officers. Bosco, thou shall be Malta's general ; We and our warlike Knights will follow thee Against these barb'rous misbelieving Turks. Bosc. So shall you imitate those you succeed : For when their hideous force environed Rhodes, Small though the number was that kept the town, They fought it out, and not a man survived To bring the hapless news to Christendom. Fern. So will we fight it out ; come, let's away : Proud daring Calymath, instead of gold, We'll send thee bullets wrapt in smoke and fire : Claim tribute where thou wilt, we are resolved, Honour is bought with blood and not with gold. \_Extunt. SCENE III. Enter Officers with ITHAMORE and other Slaves. 1 \st Off. This is the market-place, here let 'em stand : Fear not their sale, for they'll be quickly bought. znd Off. Every one's price is written on his back, And so much must they yield or not be sold. ist Off. Here comes the Jew; had not his goods been seized, He'd given us present money for them all. Enter BARABAS, Bar. In spite of these swine-eating Christians, 1 The scene is the market-place. SCENE in.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 259 Unchosen nation, never circumcised, Such as (poor villains !) were ne'er thought upon Till Titus and Vespasian conquered us, Am I become as wealthy as I was : They hoped my daughter would ha' been a nun ; But she's at home, and I have bought a house As great and fair as is the governor's ; And there in spite of Malta will I dwell, Having Ferneze's hand, whose heart I'll have ; Ay, and his son's too, or it shall go hard. I am not of the tribe of Levi, I, That can so soon forget an injury. We Jews can fawn like spaniels when we please : And when we grin we bite, yet are our looks As innocent and harmless as a lamb's. I learned in Florence how to kiss my hand, Heave up my shoulders when they call me dog, 1 And duck as low as any barefoot friar ; Hoping to see them starve upon a stall, Or else be gathered for in our synagogue, That, when the offering-basin comes to me, Even for charity I may spit into't. Here comes Don Lodowick, the governor's son, One that I love for his good father's sake. Enter LODOWICK. Lod. I hear the wealthy Jew walked this way : I'll seek him out, and so insinuate, That I may have a sight of Abigail ; For Don Mathias tells me she is fair. Bar. Now will I show myself 1 This recalls Shylock's "Still have I borne it with a patient shrug. " S 2 260 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT 11. To have more of the serpent than the dove ; That is more knave than fool. [Aside. Lod. Yond' walks the Jew ; now for fair Abigail. Bar. Ay, ay, no doubt but she's at your command. [Aside. Lod. Barabas, thou know'st I am the governor's son. Bar. I would you were his father, too, sir ; That's all the harm I wish you. The slave looks Like a hog's-cheek new singed. [Aside. Lod. Whither walk'st thou, Barabas ? Bar. No farther : 'tis a custom held with us, That when we speak with Gentiles like to you, We turn into the air to purge ourselves : For unto us the promise doth belong. Lod. Well, Barabas, canst help me to a diamond ? Bar. O, sir, your father had my diamonds. Yet I have one left that will serve your turn : I mean my daughter : but ere he shall have her I'll sacrifice her on a pile of wood. I ha' the poison of the city for him, And the white leprosy. [Aside. Lod. What sparkle does it give without a foil ? Bar. The diamond that I talk of ne'er was foiled : l But when he touches it, it will be foiled : [Aside. Lord Lodowick, it sparkles bright and fair. Lon. Is it square or pointed, pray let me know. Bar. Pointed it is, good sir but not for you. [Aside. Lod. I like it much the better. Bar. So do I too. Lod. How shows it by night ? Bar. Outshines Cynthia's rays : You'll like it better far o' nights than days. [Aside. Lod. And what's the price ? 1 Defiled. SCENE in.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 261 Bar. Your life an if you have it. [Aside.] O my lord, We will not jar about the price ; come to my house And I will give't your honour with a vengeance. [Aside. Lod. No, Barabas, I will deserve it first Bar. Good sir, Your father has deserved it at my hands, Who, of mere charity and Christian truth, To bring me to religious purity, And as it were in catechising sort, To make me mindful of my mortal sins, Against my will, and whether I would or no, Seized all I had, and thrust me out o' doors, And made my house a place for nuns most chaste. Lod. No doubt your soul shall reap the fruit of it. Bar. Ay, but, my lord, the harvest is far off. And yet I know the prayers of those nuns And holy friars, having money for their pains, Are wondrous ; and indeed do no man good : [Aside. And seeing they are not idle, but still doing, 'Tis likely they in time may reap some fruit, ' I mean in fulness of perfection. Lod. Good Barabas, glance not at our holy nuns. Bar. No, but I do it through a burning zeal, Hoping ere long to set the house afire ; For though they do a while increase and multiply, I'll have a saying to that nunnery. [Aside. As for the diamond, sir, I told you of, Come home and there's no price shall make us part, Even for your honourable father's- sake. It shall go hard but I will see your death. [Aside. But now I must be gone to buy a slave. Lod. And, Barabas, I'll bear thee company. Bar. Come then here's the market-place. 262 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT n. What's the price of this slave ? Two hundred crowns ! Do the Turks weigh so much ? ist Off. Sir, that's his price. Bar. What, can he steal that you demand so much ? Belike he has some new trick for a purse ; And if he has, he is worth three hundred plates, 1 So that, being bought, the town-seal might be got To keep him for his lifetime from the gallows : The sessions day is critical to thieves, And few or none 'scape but by being purged. Lod. Rat'st thou this Moor but at two hundred plates? ist Off. No more, my lord. Bar. Why should this Turk be dearer than that Moor ? ist Off. Because he is young and has more qualities. Bar. What, hast the philosopher's stone ? an thou hast, break my head with it, I'll forgive thee. Slave. No, sir; I can cut and shave. Bar. Let me see, sirrah, are you not an old shaver ? Slave. Alas, sir ! I am a very youth. Bar. A youth ? I'll buy you, and marry you to Lady Vanity, 2 if you do well. Slave. I will serve you, sir. Bar. Some wicked trick or other. It may be, under colour of shaving, thou'lt cut my throat for my goods. Tell me, hast thou thy health well ? Slave. Ay, passing well Bar. So much the worse ; I must have one that's sickly, an't be but for sparing victuals : 'tis not a stone of beef a day will maintain you in these chops ; let me see one that's somewhat leaner. i sf Off. Here's a leaner, how like you him ? Bar. Where wast thou born ? 1 Pieces of silver coin. - An allegorical character in the old moralities, SCENE in.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 263 Itha. In Thrace ; brought up in Arabia. Bar. So much the better, thou art for my turn. An hundred crowns ? I'll have him ; there's the coin. \_Gives money. \st Off. Then mark him, sir, and take him hence. Bar. Ay, mark him, you were best, for this is he That by my help shall do much villainy. \Aside, My lord, farewell : Come, sirrah, you are mine, As for the diamond, it shall be yours ; I pray, sir, be no stranger at my house, All that I have shall be at your command. Enter MATHIAS and his Mother KATHERINE. Math. What makes the Jew and Lodowick so private ? I fear me 'tis about fair Abigail. [Aside. Bar. Yonder comes Don Mathias, let us stay j 1 {Exit LODOWICK. He loves my daughter, and she holds him dear : But I have sworn to frustrate both their hopes. And be revenged upon the governor. Kath. This Moor is comeliest, is he not? speak, son. Math. No, this is the better, mother; view this well, Bar. Seem not to know me here before your mother, Lest she mistrust the match that is in hand : When you have brought her home, come to my house ; Think of me as thy father ; son, farewell. Math. But wherefore talked Don Lodowick with you ? Bar. Tush ! man, we talked of diamonds, not of Abigail. Kath. Tell me, Mathias, is not that the Jew ? Bar. As for the comment on the Maccabees, , I have it, sir, and 'tis at your command. Math. Yes, madam, and my talk with him was but About the borrowing of a book or two. 1 i.e. Break off our conversation. 264 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT n. Kath, Converse not with him, he's cast off from heaven. Thou hast thy crowns, fellow ; come, let's away. Math. Sirrah, Jew, remember the book. Bar. Marry will I, sir. [Exeunt MATHIAS and his Mother. Off. Come, I have made reasonable market ; let's away. [Exeunt Officers with Slaves. Bar. Now let me know thy name, and therewithal Thy birth, condition, and profession. Itha. Faith, sir, my birth is but mean : my name's Ithamore, my profession what you please. Bar. Hast thou no trade? then listen to my words, And I will teach thee that shall stick by thee : First be thou void of these affections, Compassion, love, vain hope, and heartless fear, Be moved at nothing, see thou pity none, But to thyself smile when the Christians moan. Itha. O brave ! master, I worship your nose l for this. Bar. As for myself, I walk abroad o' nights And kill sick people groaning under walls : Sometimes I go about and poison wells ; And now and then, to cherish Christian thieves, I am content to lose some of my crowns, That I may, walking in my gallery, See 'em go pinioned along by my door. Being young, I studied physic, and began To practise first upon the Italian ; There I enriched the priests with burials, And always kept the sextons' arms in ure 2 With digging graves and ringing dead men's knells : 1 Barabas was represented on the stage with a large false nose. In Rowley's Search for Money (1609) allusion is made to the " arti- ficiall Jewe of Maltaes nose." 8 Use. SCENE in.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 265 And after that was I an engineer, And in the wars 'twixt France and Germany, Under pretence of helping Charles the Fifth, Slew friend and enemy with my stratagems. Then after that was I an usurer, And with extorting, cozening, forfeiting, And tricks belonging unto brokery, I filled the jails with bankrupts in a year, And with young orphans planted hospitals, And every moon made some or other mad, And now and then one hang himself for grief, Pinning upon his breast a long great scroll How I with interest tormented him. But mark how I am blest for plaguing them ; I have as much coin as will buy the town. But tell me now, how hast thou spent thy time ? Itha. 'Faith, master, In setting Christian villages on fire, Chaining of eunuchs, binding galley-slaves. One time I was an ostler in an inn, And in the night-time secretly would I steal To travellers' chambers, and there cut their throats : Once at Jerusalem, where the pilgrims kneeled, I strewed powder on the marble stones, And therewithal their knees would rankle so, That I have laughed a-good 1 to see the cripples Go limping home to Christendom on stilts. Bar. Why this is something : make account of me As of thy fellow ; we are villains both : Both circumcised, we hate Christians both : Be true and secret, thou shalt want no gold. But stand aside, here comes Don Lodowick. 1 i.e. In good earnest. 266 THE JEW OF MALTA, [ACT n. Enter LoDowicK. 1 Lod. O Barabas, well met ; Where is the diamond you told me of? Bar. I have it for you, sir ; please you walk in with me : What ho, Abigail ! open the door, I say. Enter ABIGAIL with letters. Abig. In good time, father ; here are letters come From Ormus, and the post stays here within. Bar. Give me the letters. Daughter, do you hear, Entertain Lodowick the governor's son With all the courtesy you can afford ; Provided that you keep your maidenhead. Use him as if he were a Philistine, Dissemble, swear, protest, vow love to him, He is not of the seed of Abraham. [Aside. I am a little busy, sir, pray pardon me. Abigail, bid him welcome for my sake. Abig. For your sake and his own he's welcome hither. Bar. Daughter, a word more ; kiss him ; speak him fair, And like a cunning Jew so cast about, That ye be both made sure * ere you come out. \_Asid-:. Abig. O father ! Don Mathias is my love. Bar. I know it : yet I say, make love to him ; Do, it is requisite it should be so \_Aside. Nay, on my life, it is my factor's hand But go you in, I'll think upon the account. \_Exeunt ABIGAIL and LODOWICK into the house. The account is made, for Lodowick he dies. My factor sends me word a merchant's fled 1 Dyce supposes a change of scene here to the outside of Barabas's house. 2 Affianced. SCENE in.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 267 That owes me for a hundred tun of wine : I weigh 'it thus much \_Snappinghis fingers]; I have wealth enough. For now by this has he kissed Abigail ; And she vows love to him, and he to her. As sure as Heaven rained manna for the Jews, So sure shall he and Don Mathias die : His father was my chiefest enemy. Enter MATHIAS. Whither goes Don Mathias ? stay awhile. Math. Whither, but to my fair love Abigail ? Bar. Thou know'st, and Heaven can witness this is true, That I intend my daughter shall be thine. Math. Ay, Barabas, or else thou wrong'st me much. Bar. O, Heaven forbid I should have such a thought. Pardon me though I weep : the governor's son Will, whether I will or no, have Abigail : He sends her letters, bracelets, jewels, rings. Math. Does she receive them ? Bar. She ? No, Mathias, no, but sends them back, And when he comes, she locks herself up fast ; Yet through the keyhole will he talk to her, While she runs to the window looking out, When you should come and hale him from the door. Math. O treacherous Lodowick ! Bar. Even now as I came home, he slipt me in, And I am sure he is with Abigail. Math. I'll rouse him thence. Bar. Not for all Malta, therefore sheathe your sword ; If you love, me, no quarrels in my house ; But steal you in, and seem to see him not ; I'll give him such a warning ere he goes 268 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT n. As he shall have small hopes of Abigail Away, for here they come. Re-enter LODOWICK and ABIGAIL. Math. What, hand in hand ! I cannot suffer this. Bar. Mathias, as thou lovest me, not a word. Math. Well, let it pass, another time shall serve. \Exit into the house. Lod. Barabas, is not that the widow's son ? Bar. Ay, and take heed, for he hath sworn your death. Lod. My death ? what, is the base-born peasant mad ? Bar. No, no, but happily he stands in fear Of that which you, I think, ne'er dream upon, My daughter here, a paltry silly girl. Lod. Why, loves she Don Mathias ? Bar. Doth she not with her smiling answer you ? Abig. He has my heart ; I smile against my will. [Aside. Lod. Barabas, thou know'st I've loved thy daughter long. Bar. And so has she done you, even from a child. Lod. And now I can no longer hold my mind. Bar. Nor I the affection that I bear to you. Lod. This is thy diamond, tell me shall I have it ? Bar. Win it, and wear it, it is yet unsoiled. O ! but I know your lordship would disdain To marry with the daughter of a Jew ; And yet I'll give her many a golden cross l With Christian posies round about the ring. Lod. 'Tis not thy wealth, but her that I esteem. Yet crave I thy consent. Bar. And mine you have, yet let me talk to her. 1 A piece of money with a cross marked on one of its sides, like the Portuguese cruzado. SCENE in.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 269 This offspring of Cain, this Jebusite, That never tasted of the Passover, Nor e'er shall see the land of Canaan, Nor our Messias that is yet to come ; This gentle maggot, Lodowick, I mean, Must be deluded : let him have thy hand, But keep thy heart till Don Mathias comes. [Aside. Abig. What, shall I be betrothed to Lodowick ? Bar. It's no sin to deceive a Christian ; For they themselves hold it a principle, Faith is not to be held with heretics ; But all are heretics that are not Jews ; This follows well, and therefore, daughter, fear not. [Aside. I have entreated her, and she will grant. Lod. Then, gentle Abigail, plight thy faith to me. Abig. I cannot choose, seeing my father bids. Nothing but death shall part my love and me. [Aside. Lod. Now have I that for which my soul hath longed. Bar. So have not I, but yet I hope I shall. [Aside. Abig. O wretched Abigail, what hast thou done ? [Aside. Lod. Why on the sudden is your colour changed ? Abig. I know not, but farewell, I must be gone. Bar. Stay her, but let her not speak one word more. Lod. Mute o' the sudden ! here's a sudden change. Bar. O, muse not at it, ? tis the Hebrews' guise, That maidens new betrothed should weep awhile : Trouble her not ; sweet Lodowick, depart : She is thy wife, and thou shalt be mine heir. Lod. O, is't the custom ? then I am resolved : But rather let the brightsome heavens be dim, And nature's beauty choke with stifling clouds, 1 Satisfied. 2;o THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT n. Than my fair Abigail should frown on me. There comes the villain, now I'll be revenged. Re-enter MATHIAS. Bar. Be quiet, Lodowick, it is enough That I have made thee sure to Abigail. Lod. Well, let him go. [Exit. Bar. Well, but for me, as you went in at doors You had been stabbed, but not a word on't now ; Here must no speeches pass, nor swords be drawn. Math. Suffer me, Barabas, but to follow him. Bar, No ; so shall I, if any hurt be done, Be made an accessory of your deeds ; Revenge it on him when you meet him next. Math. For this I'll have his heart. Bar. Do so ; lo here I give thee Abigail. Math. What greater gift can poor Mathias have ? Shall Lodowick rob me of so fair a love ? My life is not so dear as Abigail. Bar. My heart misgives me, that, to cross your love, He's with your mother ; therefore after him. Math. What, is he gone unto my mother ? Bar. Nay, if you will, stay till she comes herself. Math. I cannot stay ; for if my mother come, She'll die with grief. [Exit, Abig. I cannot take my leave of him for tears : Father, why have you thus incensed them both ? Bar. What's that to thee ? Abig. I'll make 'em friends again. Bar. You'll make 'em friends ! Are there not Jews enow in Malta, But thou must doat upon a Christian ? Abig. I will have Don Mathias, he is my love. Bar. Yes, you shall have him : go put her in. SCENE in.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 271 Itha. Ay, I'll put her in. [Puts ABIGAIL in. Bar. Now tell me, Ithamore, how lik'st thou this ? Itha. Faith, master, I think by this You purchase both their lives ; is it not so ? Bar. True ; and it shall be cunningly performed. Itha. O master, that I might have a hand in this. Bar. Ay, so thou shalt, 'tis thou must do the deed : Take this, and bear it to Mathias straight, [Gives a letter. And tell him that it comes from Lodowick. Itha. 'Tis poisoned, is it not ? Bar. No, no, and yet it might be done that way : It is a challenge feigned from Lodowick. Itha. Fear not ; I will so set his heart afire, That he shall verily think it comes from him. Bar. I cannot choose but like thy readiness : Yet be not rash, but do it cunningly. Itha. As I behave myself in this, employ me hereafter Bar. Away then. [Exit ITHAMORE. So, now will I go in to Lodowick, And, like a cunning spirit, feign some lie. Till I have set 'em both at enmity. [Exit. ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. Enter BELLAMIRA, a Courtesan. 1 ELL. Since this town was besieged, my gain grows cold : The time has been that, but for one bare night, A hundred ducats have been freely given : But now against my will I must be chaste; And yet I know my beauty doth not fail. From Venice merchants, and from Padua Were wont to come rare-witted gentlemen, Scholars I mean, learned and liberal ; And now, save Pilia-Borsa, comes there none, And he is very seldom from my house ; And here he comes. Enter PILIA-BORSA. Pilia. Hold thee, wench, there's something for thee to spen d. [ Shews a bag of silver. Bell. 'Tis silver. I disdain it. Pilia. Ay, but the Jew has gold, And I will have it, or it shall go hard. 1 The scene is the outside of Bellamira's house, and it is suggested that she makes her appearance on the verandah or on a balcony. SCENE II.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 273 Court. Tell me, how cam'st thou by this ? Pilia. 'Faith, walking the back-lanes, through the gardens, I chanced to cast mine eye up to the Jew's counting-house, where I saw some bags of money, and in the night I clambered up with my hooks, and, as I was taking my choice, I heard a rumbling in the house ; so I took only this, and run my way : but here's the Jew's man. Bell. Hide the bag. Enter ITHAMORE. Pilia. Look not towards him, let's away ; zoons, what a looking thou keep'st ; thou'lt betray 's anon. [Exeunt BELLAMIRA and PILIA-BORSA. Itha. O the sweetest face that ever I beheld ! I know she is a courtesan by her attire : now would I give a hundred of the Jew's crowns that I had such a con- cubine. Well, I have delivered the challenge in such sort, As meet they will, and fighting die ; brave sport. [Exit. SCENE II. Enter MATHIAS. 1 Math. This is the place ; now Abigail shall see Whether Mathias holds her dear or no. Enter LODOWICK. What, dares the villain write in such base terms? [Reading a letter. Loci. I did it ; and revenge it if thou dar'st. \Theyftgkt. 1 The scene is a street. Mar. T 274 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT in. Enter BARABAS, above, on a balcony. Bar. O ! bravely fought ; and yet they thrust not home. Now, Lodovico ! now, Mathias ! So \Bothfall. So now they have showed themselves to be tall ] fellows. [Cries within.'} Part 'em, part 'em. Bar. Ay, part 'em now they are dead. Farewell, fare- well. \Exit. Enter FERNEZE, KATHERINE, and Attendants. Fern. What sight is this ! my Lodowick slain ! These arms of mine shall be thy sepulchre. Kath. Who is this ? my son Mathias slain ! Fern. O Lodowick ! had'st thou perished by the Turk, Wretched Ferneze might have 'venged thy death. Kath. Thy son slew mine, and I'll revenge his death. Fern. Look, Katherine, look ! thy son gave mine these wounds. Kath. O leave to grieve me, I am grieved enough. Fern. O ! that my sighs could turn to lively breath ; And these my tears to blood, that he might live. Kath. Who made them enemies ? Fern. I know not, and that grieves me most of all. Kath. My son loved thine. Fern. And so did Lodowick him. Kath. Lend me that weapon that did kill my son, And it shall murder me. Fern. Nay, madam, stay ; that weapon was my son's, And on that rather should Ferneze die. Kath. Hold, let's inquire the causers of their deaths, That we may 'venge their blood upon their heads. Fern. Then take them up, and let them be interred Within one sacred monument of stone ; 1 Brave. SCENE in.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 275 Upon which altar I will offer up My daily sacrifice of sighs and tears, And with my prayers pierce impartial heavens, Till they reveal the causers of our smarts, Which forced their hands divide united hearts : Come, Katharine, our losses equal are, Then of true grief let us take equal share. \_Exeunt with the bodies. SCENE III. Enter ITHAMORE.' Itha. Why, was there ever seen such villainy, So neatly plotted, and so well performed ? Both held in hand, and flatly both beguiled ? Enter ABIGAIL. Abig. Why, how now, Ithamore, why laugh'st thou so ? Itha. O mistress, ha ! ha ! ha ! Abig. Why, what ail'st thou? Itha. O my master ! Abig. Ha! Itha. O mistress ! I have the bravest, gravest, secret, subtle, bottle-nosed knave to my master, that ever gentle- man had. Abig. Say, knave, why rail'st upon my father thus? Itha. O, my master has the bravest policy. Abig. Wherein ? Itha. Why, know you not ? Abig. Why, no. Itha. Know you not of Muthias' and Don Lodowick's disaster ? 1 The scene is a room in Barabas's house, T 2 276 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT in. Abig. No, what was it ? Itha. Why, the devil invented a challenge, my master writ it, and I carried it, first to Lodowick, and imprimis to Mathias. And then they met, and, as the story says, In doleful wise they ended both their days. Abig. And was my father furtherer of their deaths ? Itha. Am I Ithamore ? Abig. Yes. Itha. So sure did your father write, and I carry the challenge. Abig. Well, Ithamore, let me request thee this, Go to the new-made nunnery, and inquire For any of the friars of Saint Jaques, And say, I pray them come and speak with me. Itha. I pray, mistress, will you answer me but one question ? Abig. Well, sirrah, what is't? Itha. A very feeling one ; have not the nuns fine sport with the friars now and then ? Abig. Go to, sirrah sauce, is this your question ? get ye gone. Itha. I will, forsooth, mistress. \_Exif. Abig. Hard-hearted father, unkind Barabas ! Was this the pursuit of thy policy ! To make me show them favour severally, That by my favour they should both be slain ? Admit thou lov'dst not Lodowick for his sire, Yet Don Mathias ne'er offended thee : But thou wert set upon extreme revenge, Because the governor l dispossessed thee once, 1 "Prior" in the old editions, which both Dyce and Bullen follow. Cunningham substituted "governor," which is evidently correct. SCENE in.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 277 And could'st not Venge it, but upon his son Nor on his son, but by Mathias' means ; Nor on Mathias, but by murdering me. But I perceive there is no love on earth, Pity in Jews, or piety in Turks. But here comes cursed Ithamore, with the friar. Enter ITHAMORE and Friar JACOMO. F. Jac. Virgo, salve. Itha. When ! duck you ! Abig. Welcome, grave friar ; Ithamore, begone. \_Exit ITHAMORE. Know, holy sir, I am bold to solicit thee. F. Jac. Wherein ? Abig. To get me be admitted for a nun. F. Jac. Why, Abigail, it is not yet long since That I did labour thy admission, And then thou did'st not like that holy life. Abig. Then were my thoughts so frail and uncon- firmed, And I was chained to follies of the world : But now experience, purchased with grief, Has made me see the difference of things. My sinful soul, alas, hath paced too long The fatal labyrinth of misbelief, Far from the sun that gives eternal life. F. Jac. Who taught thee this ? Abig. The abbess of the house, Whose zealous admonition I embrace : O, therefore, Jacomo, let me be one, Although unworthy, of that sisterhood. F. Jac. Abigail, I will, but see thou change no more, For that will be most heavy to thy soul. Abig. That was my father's fault. 278- THE JEIV OF MALTA. [ACT III. /: Jac. Thy father's ! how ? Abig. Xay, you shall pardon me. Barabas, Though thou deservest hardly at my hands, Yet never shall these lips bewray thy life. [Aside. F. Jac. Come, shall we go ? Abig. My duty waits on you. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Enter BARABAS, reading a letter. 1 Bar. What, Abigail become a nun again ! False and unkind ; what, hast thou lost thy father? And all unknown, and unconstrained of me, Art thou again got to the nunnery ? Now here she writes, and wills me to repent. Repentance ! Spurca .' what pretendeth - this ? I fear she knows 'tis so of my device In Don Mathias' and Lodovico's deaths : If so, 'tis time that it be seen into : For she that varies from me in belief Gives great presumption that she loves me not ; Or loving, doth dislike of something done. But who comes here ? Enter ITHAMORE. O Ithamore, come near; Come near, my love ; come near, thy master's life, My trusty sen-ant, nay, my second self: For I have now no hope but even in thee, And on that hope my happiness is built. When saw'st thou Abigail ? 1 The scene is still within Barabas 's house, but an interval of time has elapsed. " i.e. Portendeth. SCENE iv.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 279 It ha. To-day. Bar. With whom ? ft ha. A friar. Bar. A friar ! false villain, he hath done the deed. Itha. How, sir ? Bar. Why, made mine Abigail a nun. Itha. That's no lie, for she sent me for him. Bar. O unhappy day ! False, credulous, inconstant Abigail ! But let 'em go : and, Ithamore, from hence Ne'er shall she grieve me more with her disgrace ; Xc'er shall she live to inherit aught of mine, Be blest of me, nor come within my gates, But perish underneath my bitter curse, Like Cain by Adam for his brother's death. Itha. O master '. Bar. Ithamore, entreat not for her, I am moved, And she is hateful to my soul and me : And 'less thou yield to this that I entreat, I cannot think but that thou ha^st my life. Itha. Who, I, master ? Why, I'll run to some rock, And throw myself headlong into the sea ; Why, I'll do anything for your sweet sake. Bar. O trusty Ithamore, no servant, but my friend : I here adopt thee for mine only heir, All that I have is thine when I am dead, And whilst I live use half; spend as myself; Here take my keys, I'll give 'em thee anon : Go buy thee garments : but thou shall not want : Only know this, that thus thou art to do : But first go fetch me in the pot of rice That for our supper stands upon the fire. Itha. I hold my head my master's hungry. [Aside."] I go, sir. [Exit. ,28o THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT in. Bar. Thus every villain ambles after wealth, Although he ne'er be richer than in hope : But, husht ! Re-enter ITHAMORE with the pot. Itha. Here 'tis, master, Bar. Well said, Ithamore ; what, hast thou brought The ladle with thee too ? Itha. Yes, sir, the proverb says he that eats with the devil had need of a long spoon. I have brought you a ladle. Bar. Very well, Ithamore, then now be secret ; And for thy sake, whom I so dearly love, Now shalt thou see the death of Abigail, That thou may'st freely live to be my heir. Itha. Why, master, will you poison her with a mess of rice porridge ? that will preserve life, make her round and plump, and batten more than you are aware. Bar. Ay, but, Ithamore, seest thou this ? It is a precious powder that I bought Of an Italian, in Ancona, once, Whose operation is to bind, infect, And poison deeply, yet not appear In forty hours after it is ta'en. Itha. How, master? Bar. Thus, Ithamore. This even they use in Malta here, -'Us called Saint Jacques' Even, and then I say they use To send their alms unto the nunneries : Among the rest bear this, and set it there ; There's a dark entry where they take it in, Where they must neither see the messenger, Nor make inquiry who hath sent it them. Itha. How so ? SCENE iv.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 281 Bar. Belike there is some ceremony in't. There, Ithamore, must thou go place this pot ! Stay, let me spice it first. Itha. Pray do, and let me help you, master. Pray let me taste first. Bar. Prythee do [ITHAMORE tastes] : what say'st thou now ? Itha. Troth, master, I'm loth such a pot of pottage should be spoiled. Bar. Peace, Ithamore, 'tis better so than spared. Assure thyself thou shalt have broth by the eye, My purse, my coffer, and myself is thine. Itha. Well, master, I go. Bar. Stay, first let me stir it, Ithamore. As fatal be it to her as the draught Of which great Alexander drunk and died : And with her let it work like Borgia's wine, Whereof his sire, the Pope, was poisoned. In few, 1 the blood of Hydra, Lerna's bane : The juice of hebon, 2 and Cocytus' breath, And all the poisons of the Stygian pool Break from the fiery kingdom ; and in this Vomit your venom and invenom her That like a fiend hath left her father thus. Itha. What a blessing has he given't ! was ever pot of rice porridge so sauced ! [Aside.] What shall I do with it? Bar. O, my sweet Ithamore, go set it down, And come again so soon as thou hast done, For I have other business for thee. Itha. Here's a drench to poison a whole stable of Flanders mares : I'll carry 't to the nuns with a powder. 1 i.e., In short. 2 The juice of ebony, formerly regarded as a deadly poison. 282 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT in. Bar. And the horse pestilence to boot ; away ! Itha. I am gone. Pay me my wages, for my work is done. [Exit. Bar. I'll pay thee with a vengeance, Ithamore. [Exit. SCENE V. Enter FERNEZE, MARTIN, DEL Bosco, Knights, and Basso. 1 Fern. Welcome, great basso ; how fares Calymath ? What wind drives you thus into Malta-road ? Bas. The wind that bloweth all the world besides, Desire of gold. Fern. Desire of gold, great sir ? That's to be gotten in the Western Ind : In Malta are no golden minerals. Bas. To you of Malta thus saith Calymath : The time you took for respite is at hand, For the performance of your promise passed, And for the tribute-money I am sent. Fern. Basso, in brief, 'shalt have no tribute here, Nor shall the heathens live upon our spoil : First will we raze the city walls ourselves, Lay waste the island, hew the temples down, And, shipping off our goods to Sicily, Open an entrance for the wasteful sea, Whose billows beating the resistless banks, Shall overflow it with their refluence. Bas. Well, Governor, since thou hast broke the league By flat denial of the promised tribute, Talk not of razing down your city walls, 1 The scene is the interior of the council-house. SCENE vi.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 283 You shall not need trouble yourselves so far, For Selim Calymath shall come himself, And with brass bullets batter down your towers, And turn proud Malta to a wilderness For these intolerable wrongs of yours ; And so farewell. Fern. Farewell : \_Exit Basso. Fern. And now, ye men of Malta, look about, And let's provide to welcome Calymath : Close your portcullis, charge your basilisks, 1 And as you profitably take up arms, So now courageously encounter them ; For by this answer, broken is the league, And naught is to be looked for now but wars, And naught to us more welcome is than wars. \_Exeunt. SCENE VI. Enter Friar JACOMO and Friar BARNARDiNE. 2 F. Jac. O, brother, brother, all the nuns are sick, And physic will not help them : they must die. F. Barn. The abbess sent for me to be confessed : O, what a sad confession will there be ! F. Jac. And so did fair Maria send for me : I'll to her lodging : hereabouts she lies. \_Exit. Enter ABIGAIL. F. Barn. What, all dead, save only Abigail ? Abig. And I shall die too, for I feel death coming. Where is the friar that conversed with me ? 1 Cannon. See note, p. 54. 2 The scene is the interior of the convent. 284 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT in. F. Barn. O, he is gone to see the other nuns. Abig. I sent for him, but seeing you are com2, Be you my ghostly father : and first know, That in this house I lived religiously, Chaste, and devout, much sorrowing for my sins ; But ere I came F. Barn. What then ? Abig. I did offend high Heaven so grievously, As I am almost desperate for my sins : And one offence torments me more than all. You knew Mathias and Don Lodowick? F. Barn. Yes, what of them ? Abig. My father did contract me to 'em both : First to Don Lodowick ; him I never loved ; Mathias was the man that I held dear, And for his sake did I become a nun. F. Barn. So, say how was their end ? Abig. Both jealous of my love, envied 1 each other, And by my father's practice, - which is there Set down at large, the gallants were both slain. [Gives a written paper. F. Barn. O monstrous villainy ! Abig. To work my peace, this I confess to thee ; Reveal it not, for then my father dies. F. Barn. Know that confession must not be revealed, The canon law forbids it, and the priest That makes it known, being degraded first, Shall be condemned, and then sent to the fire. Abig. So I have heard ; pray, therefore keep it close. Death seizeth on my heart : ah gentle friar, Convert my father that he may be saved, And witness that I die a Christian. [Dies. 1 i.e., Hated. Formerly the word was in common use in thi sense. 2 Artifice. SCENE vi.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 285 F. Barn. Ay, and a virgin too ; that grieves me most : But I must to the Jew and exclaim on him, And make him stand in fear of me. Re-enter Friar JACOMO. F. Jac. O brother, all the nuns are dead, let's bury them. F. Barn. First help to bury this, then go with me And help me to exclaim against the Jew. F. Jac. Why, what has he done ? F. Barn. A thing that makes me tremble to unfold. F. Jac. What, has he crucified a child ? l F. Barn. No, but a worse thing : 'twas told me in shrift, Thou know'st 'tis death an if it be revealed. Come, let's away. \_Exeunt. 1 This was a crime of which the Jews were often accused, espe- cially, according to Tovey (in his Anglia jfiidaica}, when the king happened to be in want of money. ACT THE FOURTH. SCENE I. Enter BARACAS and ITHAMORE. Bells within. 1 AR. There is no music to 2 a Christian's knell : How sweet the bells ring now the nuns are dead, That sound at other times like tinker's pans ! I was afraid the poison had not wrought : Or, though it wrought, it would have done no good, For every year they swell, and yet they live ; Now all are dead, not one remains alive. Itha. That's brave, master, but think you it will not be known ? Bar. How can it, if we two be secret ? Itha. For my part fear you not. Bar. I'd cut thy throat if I did. Itha. And reason too. But here's a royal monastery hard by ; Good master, let me poison all the monks. Bar. Thou shalt not need, for now the nuns are dead They'll die with grief. Itha. Do you not sorrow for your daughter's death ? Bar. No, but I grieve because she lived so long. 1 The scene is a street in Malta. * i.e., Equal to. SCENE I.] . THE JEW OF MALTA. 287 An Hebrew born, and would become a Christian ! Cazzo, diabolo. Enter Friar JACOMO and Friar BARNARDINE. Itha, Look, look, master, here come two religious caterpillars. Bar. I smelt 'em ere they came. liha. God-a-mercy, nose ! come, let's begone. F. Barn. Stay, wicked Jew, repent, I say, and stay. F. Jac. Thou hast offended, therefore must be damned. Bar. I fear they know we sent the poisoned broth. liha. And so do I, master ; therefore speak 'em fair. F. Barn. Barabas, thou hast F. Jac, Ay, that thou hast Bar. True, I have money, what though I have ? F. Barn. Thou art a F. Jac. Ay, that thou art, a Bar. What needs all this ? I know 1 am a Jew. F. Barn. Thy daughter F. Jac. Ay, thy daughter Bar. O speak not of her ! then I die with grief. F. Barn. Remember that F. Jac. Ay, remember that Bar. I must needs say that I have been a great usurer. F. Barn. Thou hast committed Bar. Fornication but that was in another country ; And besides, the wench is dead. F. Barn. Ay, but, Barabas, Remember Mathias and Don Lodowick. Bar. Why, what of them ? F. Barn. I will not say that by a forged challenge they met. Bar. She has confest, and we are both undone, My bosom inmate ! but I must dissemble. \_Aside. 288 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT iv. holy friars, the burthen of my sins Lie heavy on my soul ; then pray you tell me, Is't not too late now to turn Christian ? 1 have been zealous in the Jewish faith, Hard-hearted to the poor, a covetous wretch, That would for lucre's sake have sold my soul. A hundred for a hundred I have ta'en ; And now for store of wealth may I compare With all the Jews of Malta ; but what is wealth ? I am a Jew, and therefore am I lost. Would penance serve to atone for this my sin, I could afford to whip myself to death Itha. And so could I ; but penance will not serve. Bar. To fast, to pray, and wear a shirt of hair, And on my knees creep to Jerusalem. Cellars of wine, and sollars 1 full of wheat, Warehouses stuft with spices and with drugs, Whole chests of gold, in bullion, and in coin, Besides I know not how much weight in pearl, Orient and round, have I within my house ; At Alexandria, merchandise unsold : But yesterday two ships went from this town, Their voyage will be worth ten thousand crown?. In Florence, Venice, Antwerp, London, Seville, Frankfort, Lubeck, Moscow, and where not, Have I debts owing ; and in most of these, Great sums of money lying in the banco ; All this I'll give to some religious house. So I may be baptized, and live therein. F. Jac. O good Barabas, come to our house. F. Barn. O no, good Barabas, come to our house ; And, Barabas, you know 1 Attics; lofts (Latin, solarium}. The word is still in use in some parts of England and in legal documents. SCENE I.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 289 Bar. I knosv that I have highly sinned. You shall convert me, you shall have all my wealth. F. Jac. O Barabas, their la\vs are strict. Bar. I know they are, and I will be with you. F. Barn. They wear no shirts, and they go barefoot too. Bar. Then 'tis not for me ; and I am resolved You shall confess me, and have all my goods. \To Friar BARNARDINE. F. Jac. Good Barabas, come to me. Bar. You see I answer him, and yet he stays ; Rid him away, and go you home with me. F. Jac. I'll be with you to-night. Bar. Come to my house at one o'clock this night. F. Jac. You hear your answer, and you may be gone, F. Barn. Why, go get you away. F. Jac. I will not go for thee. F. Barn. Not ! then I'll make thee go. F. Jac. How, dost call me rogue ? [Tktyftgkfi Itha. Part 'em, master, part 'em. Bar. This is mere frailty, brethren ; be content, Friar Barnardine, go you with Ithamore : You know my mind, let me alone with him. [Aside to F. BARNARDINE, F. Jac. Why does he go to thy house ? let him be gone. Bar. I'll give him something and so stop his mouth. \Eocit ITHAMORE with Friar BARNARDINE. I never heard of any man but he Maligned the order of the Jacobins : But do you think that I believe his words ? Why, brother, you converted Abigail ; And I am bound in charity to requite it, And so I will. O Jacomo, fail not, but come. Mar. U 290 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT IV. F. Jac. But, Barabas, who shall be your godfathers ? For presently you shall be shrived. Bar. Marry, the Turk ' shall be one of my godfathers, But not a word to any of your covent." F. Jac. I warrant thee, Barabas. [Exit. Bar. So, now the fear is past, and I. am safe, For he that shrived her is within my house ; What if I murdered him ere Jacomo comes ? Now I have such a plot for both their lives As never Jew nor Christian knew the like: One turned my daughter, therefore he shall die ; The other knows enough to have my life, Therefore 'tis not requisite he should live. But are not both these wise men to suppose That I will leave my house, my goods, and all, To fast and be well whipt ? I'll none of that. Now Friar Barnardine I come to you, I'll feast you, lodge you, give you fair words, And after that, I and my trusty Turk No more, but so : it must and shall be done. [Exit. SCENE II. Enter BARABAS and ITHAMORE. S Bar. Ithamore, tell me, is the friar asleep ? Itha. Yes ; and I know not what the reason is, Do what I can he will not strip himself, Nor go to bed, but sleeps in his own clothes ; I fear me he mistrusts what we intend. Bar. No, 'tis an order which the friars use : Yet, if he knew our meanings, could he 'scape ? i Ithamore. 2 Convent (as in " Covent Garden"). 3 The scene is a room in the house of Barabas. SCENE ii.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 291 Itha. No, none can hear him, cry he ne'er so loud. Bar. Why, true, therefore did I place him there : The other chambers open towards the street. Itha. You loiter, master ; wherefore stay we thus ? O how I long to see him shake his heels. Bar. Come on, sirrah. Off with your girdle, make a handsome noose. [ITHAMORE takes off his girdie and ties a noose in it. Friar, awake ! \They pul the noose round the Friar's neck. F. Barn. \Vhat, do you mean to strangle me ? Itha. Yes, 'cause you use to confess. Bar. Blame not us but the proverb, Confess and be hanged ; pull hard ! F. Barn. What, will you have * my life ? Bar. Pull hard, I say ; you would have had my goods. Itha. Ay, and our lives too, therefore pull amain. \They strangle him, "Pis neatly done, sir, here's no print at all. Bar. Then it is as it should be ; take him up. Itha. Nay, master, be ruled by me a little. \_Stands the body upright against the wall and puts a staff in its hand.} So, let him lean upon his staff; excellent ! he stands as if he were begging of bacon. 2 Bar. Who would not think but that this friar lived ? What time o' night is't now, sweet Ithamore ? Itha. Towards one. Bar. Then will not Jacomo be long from hence. \Exeunt, 1 The old edition has "save," but from Barabas's retort, "You would have had my goods," the word is most likely a misprint. 2 It would appear from the following scene that the body was- stood up outside of the house. U 7. 192 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT iv. SCENE III. Enter Friar JACOMO.' F. Jac. This is the hour wherein I shall proceed ;- happy hour wherein I shall convert An infidel, and bring his gold into our treasury ! But soft, is not this Barnardine ? it is ; And, understanding I should come this way, Stands here a purpose, meaning me some wrong, And intercept my going to the Jew. Barnardine ! Wilt thou not speak ? thou think'st I see thee not ; Away, I'd wish thee, and let me go by : No, wilt thou not ? nay, then, I'll force my way ; And see, a staff stands ready for the purpose : As thou lik'st that, stop me another time. [Takes the staff and strikes the body, which falls down. Enter BARABAS and ITHAMORE. Bar. Why, how now, Jacomo, what hast thou done ? F. Jac. \Vhy, stricken him that would have struck at me. Bar. Who is it ? Barnardine ! now out, alas, he's slain ! Itha. Ay, master, he's slain ; look how his brains drop out on's nose. F. Jac. Good sirs, I have done't, but nobody knows it but you two I may escape. Bar. So might my man and I hang with you for company. Itha. No, let us bear him to the magistrates. F. Jac. Good Barabas, let me go. Bar. No, pardon me ; the law must have its course. 1 must be forced to give in evidence, 1 The scene k outside Barabas's house. 2 Succeed. SCENE IV.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 293 That being importuned by this Barnardine To be a Christian, I shut him out, And there he sat : now I, to keep my word, And give my goods and substance to your house, Was up thus early; with intent to go Unto your friary, because you stayed. Itha. Fie upon 'em, master; will you turn Christian when holy friars turn devils and murder one another ? Bar. No, for this example I'll remain a Jew : Heaven bless me ! what, a friar a murderer ? When shall you see a Jew commit the like ? Itha. Why, a Turk could ha' done no more. Bar. To-morrow is the sessions ; you shall to it. Come, Ithamore, let's help to take him hence. F. Jac. Villains, I am a sacred person ; touch me not. Bar. The law shall touch you, we'll but lead you, we : 'Las, I could weep at your calamity! Take in the staff too, for that must be shown : Law wills that each particular be known. \Exeunt. SCENE IV. Enter BELLAMIRA and PiLiA-BoRSA. 1 Bell. Pilia-Borsa, did'st thou meet with Ithamore ? Pilia. I did. Bell. And did'st thou deliver my letter ? Pilia. I did. Bell. And what think'st thou ? will he come ? Pilia. I think so, but yet I cannot tell ; for at the read- ing of the letter he looked like a man of another world. 1 The scene is a veranda of Bellamira's house. 294 THE JEW OF MALTA, [ACT iv. Bell. Why so ? Pilia. That such a base slave as he should be saluted by such a tall * man as I am, from such a beautiful dame as you. Bell. And what said he ? Pilia. Not a wise word, only gave me a nod, as who should say, "Is it even so?" and so I left him, being driven to a non-plus at the critical aspect of my terrible countenance. Bell. And where didst meet him? Pilia. Upon mine own freehold, within forty feet of the gallows, conning his neck-verse," I take it, looking of 3 a friar's execution, whom I saluted with an old hempen proverb, Hodie tibi, eras wihi, and so I left him to the mercy of the hangman : but the exercise 4 being done, see where he comes. Enter ITHAMORE. Itha. I never knew a man take his death so patiently as this friar ; he was ready to leap off ere the halter was about his neck ; and when the hangman had put on his hempen tippet, he made such haste to his prayers, as if he had had another cure to serve. Well, go whither he will, I'll be none of his followers in haste : and, now I think on't, going to the execution, a fellow met me with a muschatoes 5 like a raven's wing, and a dagger with a hilt like a warming-pan, and he gave me a letter from one Madam Bellamira, saluting me in such sort as if he had meant to make clean my boots with his lips ; the effect was, that I should come to her house. I wonder what the reason is ; it may be she sees more in me than > Brave. ' The verse which criminals had to read to entitle them to "benefit of clergy," and which was usually the first verse of the 5ist Psalm. 3 i.e. Looking on. 4 Sermon. 5 Mustachios. SCENE iv.j THE JEW OF MALTA. 295 I can find in myself: for she writes further, that she loves me ever since she saw me, and who would not requite such love ? Here's her house, and here she comes, and now would I were gone ; I am not worthy to look upon her. Pilia. This is the gentleman you writ to. Itha. Gentleman ! he flouts me ; what gentry can be in a poor Turk of tenpence ? ' I'll be gone. [Aside. Bell. Is't not a sweet-faced youth, Pilia ? Itha. Again, "sweet youth!" {Aside.'} Did not you, sir, bring the sweet youth a letter ? Pilia. I did, sir, and from this gentlewoman, who, as myself, and the rest of the family, stand or fall at your service. Bell. Though woman's modesty should hale me back, I can withhold no longer ; welcome, sweet love. Itha. Now am I clean, or rather foully out of the way. [Aside. Bell. Whither so soon? Itha. I'll go steal some money from my master to make me handsome \Aside\. Pray pardon me, I must go and see a ship discharged. Bell. Canst thou be so unkind to leave me thus ? Pilia. An ye did but know how she loves you, sir! It ha-. Nay, I care not how much she loves me Sweet Bellamira, would I had my master's wealth for thy sake ! Pilia. And you can have it, sir, an if you please. Itha. If 'twere above ground, I could and would have it ; but he hides and buries it up, as partridges do their eggs, under the earth. Pilia. And is't not possible to find it out ? Itha. By no means possible. 1 A derogatory expression often found in writers of this period. 296 7 HE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT iv. What shall we do with this base villain then ? [Aside to PiLiA-BoRSA. Pilia. Let me alone ; do you but speak him fair. [Aside to her. But sir you know some secrets of the Jew, Which, if they were revealed, would do him harm. Itha, Ay, and such as Go to, no more ! I'll make him send me half he has, and glad he 'scapes so too. I'll write unto him ; we'll have money straight. Pilia. Send for a hundred crowns at least. Jtha. Ten hundred thousand crowns. [ Writing^ " Master Barabas." Pilia. Write not so submissively, but threatening him. Jtha. \_writins] " Sirrah, Barabas, send me a hundred crowns." Pilia. Put in two hundred at least. Itha. \writing\ "I charge thee send me three hundred by this bearer, and this shall be your warrant : if you do not no more, but so." Pilia. Tell him you will confess. Itha. [u>riti?ig\ " Otherwise I'll confess all." Vanish, and return in a twinkle. Pilia. Let me alone ; I'll use him in his kind. \Exit PILIA-BORSA with the letter. Itha. Hang him, Jew ! Bell. Now, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap. Where are my maids? provide a running 1 banquet; Send to the merchant, bid him bring me silks, Shall Ithamore, my love, go in such rags ? Jtha. And bid the jeweller come hither too. Bell. I have no husband, sweet ; I'll marry thee. Itha. Content : but we will leave this paltry land, And sail from hence to Greece, to lovely Greece. 1 Hasty. SCENE iv.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 297 I'll be thy Jason, them my golden fleece ; Where painted carpets o'er the meads are hurled, And Bacchus' vineyards overspread the world ; Where woods and forests go in goodly green, I'll be Adonis, thou shalt be Love's Queen. The meads, the orchards, and the primrose-lanes, Instead of sedge and reed, bear sugar-canes : Thou in those groves, by Dis above, Shalt live with me and be my love. Bell. Whither will I not go with gentle Ithamore? Re-enter PiLiA-BoRSA. Itha. How now ! hast thou the gold ? Pilia. Yes. Itha. But came it freely ? did the cow give down her milk freely ? Pilia. At reading of the letter, he stared and stamped and turned aside. I took him by the beard, and looked upon him thus ; told him he were best to send it ; then he hugged and embraced me. Itha. Rather for fear than love. Pilia. Then, like a Jew, he laughed and jeered, and told me he loved me for your sake, and said what a faith- ful servant you had been. Itha. The more villain he to keep me thus ; here's goodly 'parel, is there not ? Pilia. To conclude, he gave me ten 'crowns. [Gives the money to ITHAMORE. Itha. But ten ? I'll not leave him worth a grey groat. Give me a ream * of paper ; we'll have a kingdom of gold for 't. Pilia. Write for five hundred crowns. 1 A quibble upon "realm" and "kingdom;" realm, which was often written without the "1," being commonly pronounced 298 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT iv. Itha. [writing.] "Sirrah, Jew, as you love your life send me five hundred crowns, and give the bearer one hundred. " Tell him I must have 't. Pilia. I warrant your worship shall have 't. Itha. And if he ask why I demand so much, tell him I scorn to write a line under a hundred crowns. Pilia. You'd make a rich poet, sir. I am gone. [Exit. Itha. Take thou the money ; spend it for my sake. Bell. 'Tis not thy money, but thyself I weigh ; Thus Bellamira esteems of gold. [Throws it aside. But thus of thee. \JKtsses him. Itha. That kiss again ! she runs division a of my lips. What an eye she casts on me ! It twinkles like a star. Bell. Come, my dear love, let's in and sleep together. Itha. O, that ten thousand nights were put in one, that we might sleep seven years together afore we wake ! Bell. Come, amorous wag, first banquet, and then sleep. [Exeunt. SCENE V. Enter BARABAS, reading a letter' 1 Bar. " Barabas, send me three hundred crowns. Plain Barabas ! O, that wicked courtesan ! He was not wont to call me Barabas. " Or else I will confess : " ay, there it goes : But, if I get him, coupe, de gorge for that. He sent a shaggy tottered :! staring slave, 1 A musical term. 2 Dyce suggests that the scene is a room in Barabas's house, hut as Barabas presently enquires of Pilia-Borsa when he shall see him at his house, their meeting probably takes place in the street. 3 Tattered. SCENE v.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 299 That when he speaks draws out his grisly beard, And winds it twice or thrice about his ear ; Whose face has been a grindstone for men's swords ; His hands are hacked, some fingers cut quite off; Who, when he speaks, grunts like a hog, and looks Like one that is employed in catzerie l And crossbiting,- such a rogue As is the husband to a hundred whores : And I by him must send three hundred crowns ! Well, my hope is, he will not stay there still ; And when he comes : O, that he were but here ! Enter PiLiA-BoRSA. Pilia. Jew, I must have more gold. Bar. Why, want'st thou any of thy tale? :! Pilia. No ; but three hundred will not serve his turn. ar. Not serve his turn, sir ? Pilia. No, sir ; and, therefore, I must have five hun- dred more. Bar. I'll rather Pilia. O good words, sir, and send it you were best ! see, there's his letter. [Gives letter. Bar. Might he not as well come as send ? pray bid him come and fetch it ; what he writes for you, ye shall have straight. Pilia. Ay, and the rest too, or else Bar. I must make this villain away. [Aside. Please you dine with me, sir ; and you shall be most heartily poisoned. [Aside. Pilia. No, God-a-mercy. Shall I have these crowns ? Bar. I cannot do it, I have lost my keys. Pilia. O, if that be all, I can pick ope your locks. Knavery (from cazzo). " Swindling. 3 Reckoning. 300 THE JEW OF MALTA, |>CT IV - Bar. Or climb up to my counting-house window : you know my meaning. Pitta. I know enough, and therefore talk not to me of your counting-house. The gold ! or know, Jew, it is in my power to hang thee. Bar. I am betrayed. [Aside. 'Tis not five hundred crowns that I esteem, I am not moved at that : this angers me, That he, who knows I love him as myself, Should write in this imperious vein. Why, sir, You know I have no child, and unto whom Should I leave all but unto Ithamore ? Pitta. Here's many words, but no crowns : the crowns ! Bar. Commend me to him, sir, most humbly, And unto your good mistress, as unknown. Pilia. Speak, shall I have 'em, sir ? Bar. Sir, here they are. \_Gives money. O, that I should part with so much gold ! [Aside. Here, take 'em, fellow, with as good a will As I would see thee hanged [Aside] ; O, love stops my breath : Never man servant loved as I do Ithamore ! Pitta. I know it, sir. Bar. Pray, when, sir, shall I see you at my house ? Pitta. Soon enough, to your cost, sir. Fare you well. [Exit. Bar. Nay, to thine own cost, villain, if thou com'st ! Was ever Jew tormented as I am ? To have a shag-rag knave to come, force from me Three hundred crowns, and then five hundred crowns ! Well, I must seek a means to rid 'em all, And presently ; for in his villainy He will tell all he knows, and I shall die for't. SCENE VI.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 301 I have it : I will in some disguise go see the slave, And how the villain revels with my gold. \_Exit. SCENE VI. Enter BELLAMIRA, ITHAMORE, and PiLiA-BoRSA. 1 Bell. I'll pledge thee, love, and therefore drink it off. Itha. Say'st thou me so ? have at it ; and do you hear ? [ Whispers. Bell. Go to, it shall be so. Itha. Of 2 that condition I will drink it up. Here's to thee ! Bell. Nay, I'll have all or none. Itha. There, if thou lov'st me do not leave a drop. Bell. Love thee ! fill me three glasses. Itha. Three and fifty dozen, I'll pledge thee. Pitta. Knavely spoke, and like a knight-at-arms. Itha. Hey, Rivo Castiliano ! 3 a man's a man ! Bell. Now to the Jew. Itha. Ha ! to the Jew, and send me money he were best. Pitta. What would'st thou do if he should send thee none? Itha. Do nothing; but I know what I know; he's a murderer. Bell. I had not thought he had been so brave a man. Itha. You knew Mathias and the governor's son ; he and I killed 'em both, and yet never touched 'em. Pitta. O, bravely done. 1 The scene is a verandah or open porch of Bellamira's house. 2 i.e. On. 3 A familiar Bacchanalian exhortation of doubtful origin. 302 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT iv. Itha. I carried the broth that poisoned the nuns ; and he and I, snickle hand too fast, 1 strangled a friar. Bell. You two alone ? Itha. We two ; and 'twas never known, nor never shall be for me. Pilia. This shall with me unto the governor. [Aside to BELLAMIRA. Bell. And fit it should : but first let's ha' more gold, [Aside to PILIA-BORSA. Come, gentle Ithamore, lie in my lap. Itha. Love me little, love me long ; let music rumble Whilst I in thy incony 3 lap do tumble. Enter BARABAS, disguised as a French musician, with a lute> and a nosegay in his hat. Bell. A French musician ! come, let's hear your skill. Bar. Must tuna my lute for sound, twang, twang, first. Itha. Wilt drink, Frenchman? here's to thee with a Pox on this drunken hiccup ! Bar. Gramercy, monsieur. Bell. Prythee, Pilia-Borsa, bid the fiddler give me the posy in his hat there. Pilia. Sirrah, you must give my mistress your posy. Bar. A votre cominandemcnt, madame. Bell. How sweet, my Ithamore, the flowers smell ! Itha. Like thy breath, sweetheart ; no violet like 'em. Pilia. Foh ! methinks they stink like a hollyhock. Bar. So, now I am revenged upon 'em all. The scent thereof was death ; I poisoned it. \Aside. 1 A corrupt passage. " Snickle " is a noose or slipknot, and the word is commonly applied to the hangman's halter, and to snares set for hares and rabbits. Cunningham proposed to read " Snickle hard and fast" 2 Dainty, sweet. SCENE VI.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 303 Itha. Play, fiddler, or I'll cut your cat's guts into chit- terlings. Bar. Pardonnez moi, be no in tune yet ; so now, now all be in. Itha. Give him a crown, and fill me out more wine. Pilia. There's two crowns for thee ; play. Bar. How liberally the villain gives me mine own gold ! {Aside. BARABAS then plays. Pilia. Methinks he fingers very well. Bar. So did you when you stole my gold. [Aside. Pilia. How swift he runs ! Bar. You run swifter when you threw my gold out of my window. [Aside. Bell. Musician, hast been in Malta long ? Bar. Two, three, four month, madame. Itha. Dost not know a Jew, one Barabas ? Bar. Very mush ; monsieur, you no be his man ? Pilia. His man ? Itha. I scorn the peasant; tell him so. Bar. He knows it already. [Aside. Itha. 'Tis a strange thing of that Jew, he lives upon pickled grasshoppers and sauced mushrooms. Bar. What a slave's this ? the governor feeds not as I do. [Aside. Itha. He never put on clean shirt since he was cir- cumcised. Bar. O rascal ! I change myself twice a day. \_Aside. Itha. The hat he wears, Judas left under the elder 1 when he hanged himself. Bar. Twas sent me for a present from the great Cham. {Aside. Pilia. A musty slave he is; Whither now, fiddler? Bar. Pardonnez moi, monsieur, me be no well. 1 Judas is said to have hanged himself on an elder-tree. 304 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT iv. Pilia. Farewell, fiddler ! [Exit BARABAS] one letter more to the Jew. Bell. Prythee, sweet love, one more, and write it sharp. Itha. No, I'll send by word of mouth now Bid him deliver thee a thousand crowns, by the same token, that the nuns loved rice, that Friar Barnardine slept in his own clothes ; any of 'em will do it. Pilia. Let me alone to urge it,' now I know the mean- ing. Itha. The meaning has a meaning. Come let's in : To undo a Jew is charity, and not sin. \_Exennt. ACT THE FIFTH. SCENE I. Enter FERNEZE, Knights, MARTIN DEL Bosco, and Officers. 1 ERN. Now, gentlemen, betake you to your arms, And see that Malta be well fortified ; And it behoves you to be resolute ; For Calymath, having hovered here so long, Will win the town, or die before the walls. ist Knight. And die he shall, for we will never yield. Enter BELLAMIRA and PILIA-BORSA. Bell. O, bring us to the governor. Fern. Away with her ! she is a courtesan. Bell. Whate'er I am, yet, governor, hear me speak ; I bring thee news by whom thy son was slain : Mathias did it not ; it was the Jew. Pilia. Who, besides the slaughter of these gentlemen, Poisoned his own daughter and the nuns, Strangled a friar and I know not what Mischief besides. Fern. Had we but proof of this The scene is inside the council-house. Ma 306 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT v. Bell. Strong proof, my lord ; his man's now at my lodging, That was his agent ; he'll confess it all. Fern. Go fetch him straight \Exeunt Officers]. I always feared that Jew. Enter Officers with BARABAS and ITHAMORE. Bar. I'll go alone ; dogs ! do not hale me thus. Itha. Nor me neither, I cannot outrun you, constable : O my belly ! Bar. One dram of powder more had made all sure ; What a damned slave was I ! [Aside. Fern. Make fires, heat irons, let the rack be fetched. \st Knight. Nay, stay, my lord ; 't may be he will confess. Bar. Confess ! what mean you, lords ? who should confess ? Fern. Thou and thy Turk ; 'twas you that slew my son. Itha. Guilty, my lord, I confess. Your son and Mathias were both contracted unto Abigail ; he forged a counter- feit challenge. Bar. Who carried that challenge ? Itha. I carried it, I confess ; but who writ it ? Marry, even he that strangled Barnardine, poisoned the nuns and his own daughter. Fern. Away with him ! his sight is death to me. Bar. For what, you men of Malta ? hear me speak : She is a courtesan, and he a thief, And he my bondman. Let me have law, For none of this can prejudice my life. Fern. Once more, away with him ; you shall have law. Bar. Devils, do your worst! I'll live in spite of you. [Aside. SCENE i.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 307 As these have spoke, so be it to their souls ! I hope the poisoned flowers will work anon. [Aside. [Exeunt Officers with BARABAS and ITHAMORE, BELLAMIRA and PiuA-BoRSA. Enter KATHERINE. Kath. Was my Mathias murdered by the Jew ? Ferneze, 'twas thy son that murdered him. Fern. Be patient, gentle madam, it was he ; He forged the daring challenge made them fight. Kath. Where is the Jew ? where is that murderer ? Fern. In prison till the law has passed on him Re-enter First Officer. \st Off. My lord, the courtesan and her man are dead : So is the Turk and Barabas the Jew. Fern. Dead ! ist Off. Dead, my lord, and here they bring his body Bosco. This sudden death of his is very strange. Re-enter Officers carrying BARABAS as dead. Fern. Wonder not at it, sir, the Heavens are just ; Their deaths were like their lives, then think not of 'em. Since they are dead, let them be buried ; For the Jew's body, throw that o'er the Avails, To be a prey for vultures and wild beasts. So now away, and fortify the town. \Exeunt all leaving BARABAS on the floor. 308 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT v. SCENE IT. BAR ABAS discovered rising^ Bar. What, all alone ? well fare, sleepy drink. I'll be revenged on this accursed town ; For by my means Calymath shall enter in. I'll help to slay their children and their wives, To fire the churches, pull their houses down, Take my goods too, and seize upon my lands. I hope to see the governor a slave, And, rowing in a galley, whipt to death. Enter CALYMATH, Bassoes, and Turks. Caly. Whom have we here, a spy ? Bar. Yes, my good lord, one that can spy a place Where you may enter, and surprise the town : My name is Barabas : I am a Jew. Caly. Art thou that Jew whose goods we heard were sold For tribute-money ? Bar. The very same, my lord : And since that time they have hired a slave, my man, To accuse me of a thousand villanies : I was imprisoned, but 'scaped their hands. Caly. Did'st break prison ? Bar. No, no ; I drank of poppy and cold mandrake juice : And being asleep, belike they thought me dead, And threw me o'er the walls : so, or how else, The Jew is here, and rests at your command. 1 The scene is outside the city walls, over which Barabas has been thrown in accordance with Ferneze's orders. SCENE in.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 309 Caly. 'Twas bravely done : but tell me, Barabas, Canst them, as thou report'st, make Malta ours ? Bar. Fear not, my lord, for here against the sluice, 1 The rock is hollo\v, and of purpose digged, To make a passage for the running streams And common channels of the city. Now, whilst you give assault unto the walls, I'll lead five hundred soldiers through the vault, And rise with them i' the middle of the town, Open the gates for you to enter in ; And by this means the city is your own. Caly. If this be true, I'll make thee governor. Bar. And if it be not true, then let me die. Caly. Thou'st doomed thyself. Assault it presently. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Alarums within. Enter CALYMATH, Bassoes, Turks, and BARABAS, with FERNEZE and Knights prisoners.- Caly. Now vail 3 your pride, you captive Christians, And kneel for mercy to your conquering foe : Now where's the hope you had of haughty Spain ? Ferneze, speak, had it not been much better T'have kept thy promise than be thus surprised ? fern. What should I say ? We are captives and must yield. Caly. Ay, villains, you must yield, and under Turkish yokes Shall groaning bear the burden of our ire ; 1 Old edition "truce."' Dyce printed " trench. " 2 The scene is an open place in the city. 3 Lower. 310 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT v. And, Barabas, as erst we promised thee, For thy desert we make thee governor ; Use them at thy discretion. Bar. Thanks, my lord. Fern. O fatal day, to fall into the hands Of such a traitor and unhallowed Jew ! What greater misery could Heaven inflict ? Caly. 'Tis our command : and, Barabas, we give To guard thy person these our Janizaries : Entreat Jhem well, as we have used thee. And now, brave bassoes, come, we'll walk about The ruined town, and see the wreck we made : Farewell, brave Jew ; farewell, great Barabas ! Bar. May all good fortune follow Calymath ! \_Exeunt CALYMATH and Bassoes. And now, as entrance to our safety, To prison with the governor and these Captains, his consorts and confederates. Fern. O villain ! Heaven will be revenged on thee. \Exeunt Turks, with FERNEZE and Knights. Bar. Away ! no more ; let him not trouble me. 2 Thus hast thou gotten, by thy policy, No simple place, no small authority, I now am governor of Malta ; true, But Malta hates me, and, in hating me, My life's in danger, and what boots it thee, Poor Barabas, to be the governor, Whenas thy life shall be at their command? No, Barabas, this must be looked into ; And since by wrong thou got'st authority, Maintain it bravely by firm policy, 1 i.e. Treat. 2 The scene is here supposed to shift to the governor's residence inside the citadel. SCENE in.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 311 At least unprofitably lose it not : For he that liveth in authority, And neither gets him friends, nor fills his bags, Lives like the ass, that ^Esop speaketh of, That labours with a load of bread and wine, And leaves it off to snap on thistle-tops : But Barabas will be more circumspect. Begin betimes ; occasion's bald behind ; Slip not thine opportunity, for fear too late Thou seek'st for much, but canst not compass it. Within here ! Enter FERNEZE, with a Guard. Fern. My lord ? Bar. Ay, "lord ;" thus slaves will learn. Now, governor ; stand by there, wait within. [Exeunt Guard. This is the reason that I sent for thee ; Thou seest thy life and Malta's happiness Are at my arbitrement ; and Barabas At his discretion may dispose of both ; Now tell me, governor, and plainly too, What think'st thou shall become of it and thee ? Fern. This, Barabas ; since things are in thy power, I see no reason but of Malta's wreck, Nor hope of thee but extreme cruelty ; Nor fear I death, nor will I flatter thee. Bar. Governor, good words ; be not so furious. 'Tis not thy life which can avail me aught ; Yet you do live, and live for me you shall : And, as for Malta's ruin, think you not 'Tvvere slender policy for Barabas To dispossess himself of such a place ? For sith, as once you said, 'tis in this isle, 3i2 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACF v. In Malta here, that I have got my goods, And in this city still have had success, And now at length am grown your governor, Yourselves shall see it shall not be forgot : For, as a friend not known but in distress, I'll rear up Malta, now remediless. Fern. Will Barabas recover Malta's loss ? Will Barabas be good to Christians ? Bar. What wilt thou give me, governor, to procure A dissolution of the slavish bands Wherein the Turk hath yoked your land and you ? What will you give me if I render you The life of Calymath, surprise his men And in an outhouse of the city shut His soldiers, till I have consumed 'em all with fire ? What will you give him that procureth this ? Fern. Do but bring this to pass which thou pretendest, Deal truly with us as thou intimatest, And I will send amongst the citizens, And by my letters privately procure Great sums of money for thy recompense : Nay more, do this, and live thou governor still. Bar. Nay, do thou this, Ferneze, and be free ; Governor, 1 enlarge thee ; live with me, Go walk about the city, see thy friends : Tush, send not letters to 'em, go thyself, And let me see what money thou canst make ; Here is my hand that I'll set Malta free : And thus we cast it : to a solemn feast I will invite young Selim Calymath, Where be thou present only to perform One stratagem that I'll impart to thee, Wherein no danger shall betide thy life, And I will warrant Malta free for ever. SCENE iv.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 313 Fern. Here is my hand ; believe me, Barabas, I will be there, and do as thou desirest. When is the time ? Bar. Governor, presently : For Calymath, when he hath viewed the town, Will take his leave and sail towards Ottoman. Fern. Then will I, Barabas, about this coin, And bring it with me to thee in the evening. Bar. Do so, but fail not ; now farewell, Ferneze ! [Exit FERNEZE. And thus far roundly goes the business : Thus loving neither, will I live with both, Making a profit of my policy ; And he from whom my most advantage comes Shall be my friend. This is the life we Jews are used to lead ; And reason too, for Christians do the like. Well, now about effecting this device ; First to surprise great Selim's soldiers, And then to make provision for the feast, That at one instant all things may be done : My policy detests prevention : To what event my secret purpose drives, I know ; and they shall witness with their lives. [Exit. SCENE IV. Enter CALYMATH and Bassoes. 1 Caly. Thus have we viewed the city, seen the sack, And caused the ruins to be new-repaired, 1 The scene is outside the city walls. 3H THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT v. Which with our bombards' 1 shot and basilisks We rent in sunder at our entry : And now I see the situation, And how secure this conquered island stands Environed with the Mediterranean Sea, Strong-countermined with other petty isles ; And, toward Calabria, backed by Sicily, (Where Syracusian Dionysius reigned,) Two lofty turrets that command the town ; I wonder how it could be conquered thus. Enter a Messenger. Mess. From Barabas, Malta's governor, I bring A message unto mighty Calymath ; Hearing his sovereign was bound for sea, To sail to Turkey, to great Ottoman, He humbly would entreat your majesty To come and see his homely citadel, And banquet with him ere them leav'st the isle. Caly, To banquet with him in his citadel ? I fear me, messenger, to feast my train Within a town of war so lately pillaged, Will be too costly and too troublesome : Yet would I gladly visit Barabas, For well has Barabas deserved of us. Mess. Selim, for that, thus saith the governor, That he hath in his store a pearl so big, So precious, and withal so orient, As, be it valued but indifferently, The price thereof will serve to entertain Selim and all his soldiers for a month ; Therefore he humbly would entreat your highness Not to depart till he has feasted you. 1 Cannons. SCENE v.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 315 Caly. I cannot feast my men in Malta-walls, Except he place his tables in the streets, Mess. Know, Selim, that there is a monastery Which standeth as an outhouse to the town : There will he banquet them j but thee at home, With all thy bassoes and brave followers. Caly. Well, tell the governor we grant his suit, We'll in this summer evening feast with him. Mess. I shall, my lord. \_Exit. Caly. And now, bold bassoes, let us to our tents, And meditate how we may grace us best To solemnize our governor's great feast. [Exeunt. SCENE V. Enter FERNEZE, Knights, and MARTIN DEL Bosco. 1 Fern. In this, my countrymen, be ruled by me, Have special care that no man sally forth Till you shall hear a culverin discharged By him that bears the linstock,- kindled thus ; Then issue out and come to rescue me, For happily I shall be in distress, Or you released of this servitude. i st Knight. Rather than thus to live as Turkish thralls, 3 What will we not adventure ? Fern. On then, begone. Knights. Farewell, grave governor ! \Exeunt on one side Knights and MARTIN DEL Bosco ; on the other FERNEZE. 1 The scene is a street in Malta. - The stick which held the match used by gunners. 3 Slaves. 316 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT v. SCENE VI. Enter, above, BARABAS, with a hammer, very busy ; and Carpenters. 1 Bar. How stand the cords ? How hang these hinges ? fast? Are all the cranes and pulleys sure ? ist Carp. All fast. Bar. Leave nothing loose, all levelled to my mind. Why now I see that you have art indeed. There, carpenters, divide that gold amongst you : \_Gives money. Go swill in bowls of sack and muscadine ! Down to the cellar, taste of all my wines. \st Carp. We shall, my lord, and thank you. [Exeunt Carpenters. Bar. And, if you like them, drink your fill and die : For so I live, perish may all the world ! Now Selim Calymath return me word That thou wilt come, and I am satisfied. Enter Messenger. Now, sirrah, what, will he come ? Mess. He will ; and has commanded all his men To come ashore, and march through Malta streets, That thou mayest feast them in thy citadel. Bar. Then now are all things as my wish would have 'em, There wanteth nothing but the governor's pelf, And see, he brings it. Enter FERNEZE. Now, governor, the sum. 1 The scene is a hall in the citadel, with a gallery at the end. SCENE vi.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 317 Fern. With free consent, a hundred thousand pounds. Bar. Pounds say'st thou, governor ? well, since it is no more, I'll satisfy myself with that ; nay, keep it still, For if I keep not promise, trust not me. And, governor, now partake my policy : First, for his army ; they are sent before, Entered the monastery, and underneath In several places are field-pieces pitched, Bombards, whole barrels full of gunpowder That on the sudden shall dissever it, And batter all the stones about their ears, Whence none can possibly escape alive. Now as for Calymath and his consorts, Here have I made a dainty gallery, The floor whereof, this cable being cut, Doth fall asunder ; so that it doth sink Into a deep pit past recovery. Here, hold that knife {Throws down a knife], and when thou seest he comes, And with his bassoes shall be blithely set, A warning-piece shall be shot off from the tower, To give thee knowledge when to cut the cord And fire the house ; say, will not this be brave ? Fern. O excellent ! here, hold thee, Barabas, I trust thy word, take what I promised thee. Bar. No, governor, I'll satisfy thee first, Thou shalt not live in doubt of anything. Stand close, for here they come [FERNEZE retires]. Why, is not this A kingly kind of trade to purchase towns By treachery and sell 'em by deceit ? Now tell me, worldlings, underneath the sun If greater falsehood ever has been done ? 3i8 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT v. Enter CALYMATH and Bassoes. Caly. Come, my companion bassoes ; see, I pray, How busy Barabas is there above To entertain us in his gallery ; Let us salute him. Save thee, Barabas ! Bar. Welcome, great Calymath ! Fern. How the slave jeers at him. {Aside. Bar. Will 't please thee, mighty Selim Calymath, To ascend our homely stairs ? Caly. Ay, Barabas ; Come, bassoes, ascend. Fern, \coming forward~\. Stay, Calymath ! For I will show thee greater courtesy Than Barabas would have afforded thee. Knight [within.'] Sound a charge there ! \_A charge sounded within. FERNEZE cuts the cord : the floor of the gallery gires way, and BAR ABAS falls into a caldron. Enter MARTIN DEL Bosco and Knights. Caly. How now ! what means this ? Bar. Help, help me ! Christians, help ! Fern. See, Calymath, this was devised for thee ! Caly. Treason ! treason ! bassoes, fly ! Fern. No, Selim, do not fly ; See his end first, and fly then if thou canst. Bar. O help me, Selim ! help me, Christians ! Governor, why stand you all so pitiless ? Fern. Should I in pity of thy plaints or thee, Accursed Barabas, base Jew, relent? No, thus I'll see thy treachery repaid, But wish thou hadst behaved thee otherwise. Bar. You will not help me, then ? SCENE vi.] THE JEW OF MALTA. 319 Fern. No, villain, no. Bar. And, villains, know you cannot help me now. Then, Barabas, breathe forth thy latest hate, And in the fury of thy torments strive To end thy life with resolution. Know, governor, 'twas I that slew thy son ; I framed the challenge that did make them meet : Know, Calymath, I aimed thy overthrow, And had I but escaped this stratagem, I would have brought confusion on you all, Damned Christian dogs ! and Turkish infidels ! But now begins the extremity of heat To pinch me with intolerable pangs : Die, life ! fly, soul ! tongue, curse thy fill, and die ! [Dies. Caly. Tell me, you Christians, what doth this por- tend? Fern. This train he laid to have entrapped thy life , Now, Selim, note the unhallowed deeds of Jews : Thus he determined to have handled thee, But I have rather chose to save thy life. Caly. Was this the banquet he prepared far us ? Let's hence, lest further mischief be pretended. 1 Fern. Nay, Selim, stay ; for since we have thee here, We will not let thee part so suddenly : Besides, if we should let thee go, all's one, For with thy galleys could'st thou not get hence, Without fresh men to rig and furnish them. Caly. Tush, governor, take thou no care for that, My men are all aboard, And do attend my coming there by this. Fern. Why heard'st thou not the trumpet sound a charge ? Caly. Yes, what of that ? 1 i.e. Intended. 320 THE JEW OF MALTA. [ACT v. Fern. Why then the house was fired, Blown up, and all thy soldiers massacred. Caly. O monstrous treason ! Fern. A Jew's courtesy : For he that did by treason work our fall, By treason hath delivered thee to us : Know, therefore, till thy father hath made good The ruins done to Malta and to us, Thou canst not part ; for Malta shall be freed, Or Selim ne'er return to Ottoman. Caly. Nay, rather, Christians, let me go to Turkey, In person there to meditate your peace ; To keep me here will not advantage you. Fern. Content thee, Calymath, here thou must stay, And live in Malta prisoner ; for come all the world To rescue thee, so will we guard us now, As sooner shall they drink the ocean dry Than conquer Malta, or endanger us. So march away, and let due praise be given Neither to Fate nor Fortune, but to Heaven. \Exeunt. THE SECOND. Mar HE tragedy of Edward II. was entered in the Stationers' Books in 1593. The earliest edition of it is dated 1594, and was discovered in 1876 in the library at Cassel. The modern text is founded on the subsequent editions of 1598, 1612, and 1622. They differ very slightly, and are fairly free from corruptions. Marlowe used the narratives of Stowe and Holinshed, and was also slightly indebted to Fabyan's Chronicle. Y 2 DRAMATIS PERSONS. KING EDWARD THE SECOND. PRINCE EDWARD, his Son, afterwards King Edward the Third. EARL of KENT, Brother of King Edward the Second GAVESTON. WARWICK. LANCASTER. PEMBROKE. ARUNDEL. LEICESTER. BERKELEY. MORTIMER, the elder. MORTIMER, the younger, his Nephew. SPENSER, the elder. SPENSER, the younger, his Son. ARCHBISHOP of CANTERBURY. BISHOP of COVENTRY. BISHOP of WINCHESTER. BALDOCK. BEAUMONT. TRUSSKL. GURNEY. MATREVIS. LlGHTBORN. SIR JOHN of HAINAULT. LEVUNE. RICE AP HOWEL. Abbot, Monks, Herald, Lords, Poor Men, James, Mower, Champion, Messengers, Soldiers, and Attendants. QUEEN ISABELLA, Wife of King Edward the Second. Niece to King Edward the Second, daughter of the Duke of Gloucester. Ladies, EVWAT(p THE SECO^V. ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I. Enter GAVESTON, reading a letter? AV. " My father is deceased ! Come, Gaveston, And share the kingdom with thy dearest friend." Ah ! words that make me surfeit with delight ! What greater bliss can hap to Gaveston Than live and be the favourite of a king ! Sweet prince, I come ; these, these thy amorous lines Might have enforced me to have swum from France, And, like Leander, gasped upon the sand, So thou would'st smile, and take me in thine arms. The sight of London to my exiled eyes Is as Elysium to a new-come soul ; Not that I love the city, or the men, 1 The scene is a street in London 326 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT I But that it harbours him I hold so dear The king, upon whose bosom let me lie, And with the world be still at enmity. What need the arctic people love starlight, To whom the sun shines both by day and night ? Farewell base stooping to the lordly peers ! My knee shall bow to none but to the king. As for the multitude, that are but sparks. Raked up in embers of their poverty ; Tanti ; I'll fawn first on the wind That glanceth at my lips, and flieth away. But how now, what are these ? Enter three Poor Men. Men. Such as desire your worship's service. Gav. What canst thou do ? \st P. Man. I can ride. Gav. But I have no horse. What art thou ? 2nd P. Man. A traveller. Gav. Let me see thou would'st do well To wait at my trencher and tell me lies at dinner- time ; And as I like your discoursing, I'll have you. And what art thou ? $rd P. Man. A soldier, that hath served against the Scot. Gav. Why, there are hospitals for such as you ; I have no war, and therefore, sir, begone. $rd P. Man. Farewell, and perish by a soldier's hand, That would'st reward them with an hospital. Gav. Ay, ay, these words of his move me as much As if a goose would play the porcupine, And dart her plumes, thinking to pierce my breast. SCENE i.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 327 But yet it is no pain to speak men fair ; I'll flatter these, and make them live in hope. [Aside. You know that I came lately out of France, And yet I have not viewed my lord the king ; If I speed well, I'll entertain you all. All. We thank your worship. Gav. I have some business. Leave me to myself. All. We will wait here about the court. [Excunf. Gar. Do ; these are not men for me : I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits, Musicians, that with touching of a string May draw the pliant king which way I please. Music and poetry is his delight ; Therefore I'll have Italian masks by night, Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows ; And in the day, when he shall walk abroad, Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad ; My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns, Shall with their goat-feet dance the antic hay. 1 Sometime a lovely boy in Dian's shape, With hair that gilds the water as it glides, Crownets of pearl about his naked arms, And in his sportful hands an olive-tree, To hide those parts which men delight to see, Shall bathe him in a spring ; and there hard by, One like Actseon peeping through the grove, Shall by the angry goddess be transformed, And running in the likeness of an hart By yelping hounds pulled down, shall seem to die ; * Such things as these best please his majesty. Here comes my lord the king, and the nobles From the parliament. I'll stand aside. [Retires. 1 Or heydcguy, n rural dance. 328 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT I. Enter KING EDWARD, LANCASTER, the Elder MORTIMER, Young MORTIMER, KENT, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, and Attendants. K. Edw. Lancaster ! Lan. My lord. Gav. That Earl of Lancaster do I abhor. \_Aside. K. Edw. Will you not grant me this ? In spite of them I'll have my will ; and these two Mortimers, That cross me thus, shall know I am displeased. [Aside. E. Mor. If you love us, my lord, hate Gaveston. Gav. That villain Mortimer ! I'll be his death. [Aside. Y. Mor. Mine uncle here, this earl, and I myself, Were sworn to your father at his death, That he should ne'er return into the realm : And know, my lord, ere I will break my oath, This sword of mine, that should offend your foes, Shall sleep within the scabbard at thy need, And underneath thy banners march who will, For Mortimer will hang his armour up. Gav. Mart Dieu ! [Aside. K. Edw. Well, Mortimer, I'll make thee rue these words. Beseems it thee to contradict thy king ? Frown'st thou thereat, aspiring Lancaster? The sword shall plane the furrows of thy brows, And hew these knees that now are grown so stiff. I will have Gaveston ; and you shall know What danger 'tis to stand against your king. Gav. Well done, Ned ! [Aside. Lan. My lord, why do you thus incense your peers, That naturally would love and honour you But for that base and obscure Gaveston? Four earldoms have I, besides Lancaster Derby, Salisbury, Lincoln, Leicester, SCENE I.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 329 These will I sell, to give my soldiers pay, Ere Gaveston shall stay within the realm j Therefore, if he be come, expel him straight. Kent. 1 Barons and earls, your pride hath made me mute ; But now I'll speak, and to the proof, I hope. I do remember, in my father's days, Lord Percy of the north, being highly moved, Braved Moubery in presence of the king ; For which, had not his highness loved him well, He should have lost his head ; but with his look The undaunted spirit of Percy was appeased, And Moubery and he were reconciled : Yet dare you brave the king unto his face. Brother, revenge it, and let these their heads Preach upon poles, for trespass of their tongues. War. O, our heads ! K. Edw. Ay, yours ; and therefore I would wish you grant War. Bridle thy anger, gentle Mortimer. Y. Mor. I cannot, nor I will not ; I must speak. Cousin, our hands I hope shall fence our heads, And strike off his that makes you threaten us. Come, uncle, let us leave the brain-sick king, And henceforth parley with our naked swords. E. Mor. Wiltshire hath men enough to save our heads. War. All Warwickshire will love him for my sake. Lan. And northward Gaveston hath many friends. Adieu, my lord ; and either change your mind, Or look to see the throne, where you should sit, To float in blood ; and at thy wanton head, The glozing head of thy base minion thrown. [Exeunt all except KING EDWARD, KENT, GAVE- STON and Attendants. 1 Cunningham and Bullen have inaccurately given this speech to King Edward. 33 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT I. K. Edw. I cannot brook these haughty menaces ; Am I a king, and must be overruled ? Brother, display my ensigns in the field ; I'll bandy 1 with the barons and the earls, And either die or live with Gaveston. Gav. I can no longer keep me from my lord. [ Comes forward. K. Edw. What, Gaveston ! welcome ! Kiss not my hand Embrace me, Gaveston as I do thee. Why should'st thou kneel ? know'st thou not who I am ? Thy friend, thyself, another Gaveston ! Not Hylas was more mourned of Hercules, Than thou hast been of me since thy exile. Gav. And since I went from hence, no soul in hell Hath felt more torment than poor Gaveston. K. Edw. I know it. Brother, welcome home my friend. Now let the treacherous Mortimers conspire, And that high-minded Earl of Lancaster : I have my wish, in that I joy thy sight; And sooner shall the sea o'erwhelm my land, Than bear the ship that shall transport thee hence. I here create thee Lord High Chamberlain, Chief Secretary to the state and me, Earl of Cornwall, King and Lord of Man. Gav. My lord, these titles far exceed my worth. Kent. Brother, the least of these may well suffice For one of greater birth than Gaveston. K. Edw. Cease, brother: for I cannot brook these words. Thy worth, sweet friend, is far above my gifts, Therefore, to equal it, receive my heart ; 1 Contend. The expression is no doubt borrowed from he old game of bandy-ball, which was similar to golf. SCENE I.] EDWARD THE SECOND.. 31 If for these dignities thou be envied, I'll give thee more ; for, but to honour thee, Is Edward pleased with kingly regiment. 1 Fear'st thou thy person ? thou shalt have a guard : Wantest thou gold? go to my treasury: Wouldst thou be loved and feared? receive my seal; Save or condemn, and in our name command Whatso thy mind affects, or fancy likes. Gav. It shall suffice me to enjoy your love, Which whiles I have, I think myself as great As Caesar riding in the Roman street, With captive kings at his triumphant car. Enter the BISHOP . It boots me not to threat I must speak fair : The legate of the Pop'e will be obeyed. [Aside. My lord, you shall be Chancellor of the realm ; Thou, Lancaster, High Admiral of our fleet ; Young Mortimer and his uncle shall be earls ; And you, Lord Warwick, President of the North ; And thou of Wales. If this content you not, Make several kingdoms of this monarchy, And share it equally amongst you all, So I may have some nook or corner left, To frolic with my dearest Gaveston. A. of Cant. Nothing shall alter us we are resolved. Lan. Come, come, subscribe. Y. Mor. Why should you love him whom the world hates so ? K. Edw. Because he loves me more than all the world. Ah, none but rude and savage-minded men Would seek the ruin of my Gaveston ; You that be noble-born should pity him. War. You that are princely-born should shake him oft" : For shame subscribe, and let the lovvn depart. E. Mor. Urge him, my lord. A. of Cant. Are you content to banish him the realm ? K. Edw. I see I must, and therefore am content : Instead of ink I'll write it with my tears. [Subscribes. Y. Mor. The king is love-sick for his minion. K. Edw. 'Tis done and now, accursed hand, fall off ! Lan. Give it me I'll have it published in the streets. Y. Mor. I'll see him presently despatched away. A. of Cant. Now is my heart at ease. War. And so is mine. Pan. This will be good news to the common sort. E. Mor. Be it or no, he shall not linger here. [Exeunt all except KING EDWARD. SCENE iv.J EDWARD THE SECOND. 339 K. Edw. How fast they run to banish him I love ! They would not stir, were it to do me good. Why should a king be subject to a priest ? Proud Rome ! that hatchest such imperial grooms, For these thy superstitious taper-lights, Wherewith thy antichristian churches blaze, I'll fire thy crazed buildings, and enforce The papal towers to kiss the lowly ground ! With slaughtered priests make Tiber's channel swell, And banks raised higher with their sepulchres ! As for the peers, that back the clergy thus, If I be king, not one of them shall live. Re-enter GAVESTON. Gav. My lord, I hear it whispered everywhere, That I am banished, and must fly the land. K. Edw. 'Tis true, sweet Gaveston O ! were it false ! The legate of the Pope will have it so, And thou must hence, or I shall be deposed. But I will reign to be revenged of them ; And therefore, sweet friend, take it patiently. Live where thou wilt, I'll send thee gold enough ; And long thou shalt not stay, or if thou dost, I'll come to thee ; my love shall ne'er decline. Gav. Is all my hope turned to this hell of grief? K. Edw. Rend not my heart with thy too-piercing words : Thou from this land, I from myself am banished. Gav. To go from hence grieves not poor Gaveston ; But to forsake you, in whose gracious looks The blessedness of Gaveston remains : For nowhere else seeks he felicity. K. Edw. And only this torments my wretched soul That, whether I will or no, thou must depart. 340 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT I. Be governor of Ireland in my stead, And there abide till fortune call thee home. Here take my picture, and let rne wear thine ; \They exchange pictures. O, might I keep thee here as I do this, Happy were I ! but now most miserable ! Gav. J Tis something to be pitied of a king. K. Edw. Thou shall not hence I'll hide thee, Gaveston. Gav. I shall be found, and then 'twill grieve me more. K. Edw. Kind words and mutual talk makes our grief greater : Therefore, with dumb embracement, let us part Stay, Gaveston, I cannot leave thee thus. Gav. For every look, my love a drops down a tear : Seeing I must go, do not renew my sorrow. K. Edw. The time is little that thou hast to stay, And, therefore, give me leave to look my fill : But come, sweet friend, I'll bear thee on thy way. Gav. The peers will frown. K. Edw. I pass 2 not for their anger Come, let's go ; that we might as well return as go. Enter QUEEN ISABELLA. Q. Isab. Whither goes my lord ? K. Edw. Fawn not on me, French strumpet ! get thee gone ! Q. Isab. On whom but on my husband should I fawn ? Gav. On Mortimer ! with whom, ungentle queen 1 say no more judge you the rest, my lord. Q. Isab. In saying this, thou wrong'st me, Gaveston ; Is't not enough that thou corrupt'st my lord, 1 " Lord " in the old editions ; altered by Dyce to " love." 2 Care. SCENE iv.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 341 And art a bawd to his affections, But thou must call mine honour thus in question ? Gav. I mean not so ; your grace must pardon me. K. Edw. Thou art too familiar with that Mortimer, And by thy means is Gaveston exiled ; But I would wish thee reconcile the lords, Or thou shalt ne'er be reconciled to me. Q. Isab. Your highness knows it lies not in my power. K. Edw. Away then ! touch me not Come, Gaveston. Q. Isab. Villain ! 'tis thou that robb'st me of my lord. Gav. Madam, 'tis you that rob me of my lord. K. Edw. Speak not unto her ; let her droop and pine. Q. Isab. Wherein, my lord, have I deserved these words ? Witness the tears that Isabella sheds, Witness this heart, that sighing for thee, breaks, How dear my lord is to poor Isabel. K. Edw. And witness Heaven how dear thou art to me : There weep : for till my Gaveston be repealed, Assure thyself thou com'st not in my sight. [Exeunt EDWARD and GAVESTON. Q. Isab. O miserable and distressed queen ! Would, when I left sweet France and was embarked, That charming Circe walking on the waves, Had changed my shape, or at the marriage-day The cup of Hymen had been full of poison, Or with those arms that twined about my neck I had been stifled, and not lived to see The king my lord thus to abandon me ! Like frantic Juno will I fill the earth With ghastly murmur of my sighs and cries ; For never doated Jove on Ganymede 342 ED WARD THE SECOND. [ACT i. So much as he on cursed Gaveston : But that will more exasperate his wrath ; I must entreat him, I must speak him fair ; And be a means to call home Gaveston : And yet he'll ever doat on Gaveston ; And so am I for ever miserable. Re-enter LANCASTER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, the Elder MORTIMER, and Young MORTIMER. Lan. Look where the sister of the King of France Sits wringing of her hands, and beats her breast ! War. The king, I fear, hath ill-entreated her. Pern. Hard is the heart that injuries l such a saint. Y. Mor. I know 'tis 'long of Gaveston she weeps. E. Mor. Why, he is gone. Y. Mor. Madam, how fares your grace ? Q. Isab. Ah, Mortimer ! now breaks the king's hate forth, And he confesseth that he loves me not. Y. Mor. Cry quittance, madam, then ; and love not him. Q. Isab. No, rather will I die a thousand deaths : And yet I love in vain he'll ne'er love me. Lan. Fear ye not, madam ; now his minion's gone, His wanton humour will be quickly left. Q. Isab. O never, Lancaster ! 1 am enjoined To sue upon you all for his repeal ; This wills my lord, and this must I perform, Or else be banished from his highness' presence. Lan. For his repeal, madam ! he comes not back, Unless the sea cast up his shipwrecked body. War. And to behold so sweet a sight as that, There's none here but would run his horse to death. 1 " Injury," as before pointed out, was formerly used as a verb. SCENE iv.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 343 Y. Mor. But, madam, would you have us call him home ? Q. Isab. Ay, Mortimer, for till he be restored, The angry king hath banished me the court ; And, therefore, as thou lov'st and tender'st me, Be thou my advocate unto these peeis. Y. Mor. What ! would you have me plead for Gave- ston ? E. Mor. Plead for him that will, I am resolved. Lan. And so am I, my lord : dissuade the queen. Q. Isab. O Lancaster ! let him dissuade the king, For 'tis against my will he should return. War. Then speak not for him, let the peasant go. Q. Isab. 'Tis for myself I speak, and not for him. Pern. No speaking will prevail, and therefore cease. Y. Mor. Fair queen, forbear to angle for the fish Which, being caught, strikes him that takes it dead ; I mean that vile torpedo, Gaveston, That now, I hope, floats on the Irish seas. Q. Isab. Sweet Mortimer, sit down by me awhile, And I will tell thee reasons of such weight As thou wilt soon subscribe to his repeal. Y. Mor. It is impossible ; but speak your mind. Q. Isab. Then thus, but none shall hear it but ourselves. \Talks to Y. MORTIMER apart. Lan. My lords, albeit the queen win Mortimer, Will you be resolute, and hold with me ? E. Mor. Not I, against my nephew. Pern. Fear not, the queen's words cannot alter him. War. No ? do but mark how earnestly she pleads ! Lan. And see how coldly his looks make denial ! War. She smiles ; now for my life his mind is changed ! Lan. I'll rather lose his friendship, I, than grant. Y. Mor. Well, of necessity it must be so. 344 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT i. My lords, that I abhor base Gaveston, I hope your honours make no question, And therefore, though I plead for his repeal, 'Tis not for his sake, but for our avail ; Nay for the realm's behoof, and for the king's. Lan. Fie, Mortimer, dishonour not thyself ! Can this be true, 'twas good to banish him ? And is this true, to call him home again ? Such reasons make white black, and dark night day. Y. Mor. My lord of Lancaster, mark the respect. 1 Lan. In no respect can contraries be true. Q. Isab. Yet, good my lord, hear what he can allege. War. All that he speaks is nothing ; we are resolved. Y. Mor. Do you not wish that Gaveston were dead ? Pern. I would he were ! Y. Mor. Why then, my lord, give me but leave to speak. E. Mor. But, nephew, do not play the sophister. Y. Mor. This which 1 urge is of a burning zeal To mend the king, and do our country good. Know you not Gaveston hath store of gold, Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends As he will front the mightiest of us all ? And whereas he shall live and be beloved, 'Tis hard for us to work his overthrow. War. Mark you but that, my lord of Lancaster. Y. Mor. But were he here, detested as he is, How easily might some base slave be suborned To greet his lordship with a poniard, And none so much as blame the murderer, But rather praise him for that brave attempt, And in the chronicle enrol his name For purging of the realm of such a plague ! Pern. He saith true. 1 Consideration. SCENE iv.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 345 Lan. Ay, but how chance this was not done before ? Y. Mor. Because, my lords, it was not thought upon. Nay, more, when he shall know it lies in us To banish him, and then to call him home, 'Twill make him vail l the top-flag of his pride, And fear to offend the meanest nobleman. E. Mor. But how if he do not, nephew ? Y. Mor. Then may we with some colour rise in arms ; For howsoever we have borne it out, 'Tis treason to be up against the king ; So we shall have the people of our side, Which for his father's sake lean to the king, But cannot brook a night-grown mushroom, Such a one as my lord of Cornwall is, Should bear us down of the nobility. And when the commons and the nobles join, 'Tis not the king can buckler Gaveston ; We'll pull him from the strongest hold he hath. My lords, if to perform this I be slack, Think me as base a groom as Gaveston. Lan. On that condition, Lancaster will grant War. And so will Pembroke and I. E. Mor. And I. K Mor. In this I count me highly gratified, And Mortimer will rest at your command. Q. Isab. And when this favour Isabel forgets, Then let her live abandoned and forlorn. But see, in happy time, my lord the king, Having brought the Earl of Cornwall on his way, Is new returned ; this news will glad him much ; Yet not so much as me; I love him more Than he can Gaveston ; would he love me But half so much, then were I treble-blessed ! 1 Lower. 346 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT I. Rt-enter KING EDWARD, mourning. K. Edw. He's gone, and for his absence thus I mourn. Did never sorrow go so near my heart As doth the want of my sweet Gaveston ; And could my crown's revenue bring him back, I would freely give it to his enemies, And think I gained, having bought so dear a friend. Q. Isab. Hark ! how he harps upon his minion. K. Edw. My heart is as an anvil unto sorrow, Which beats upon it like the Cyclops' hammers, And with the noise turns up my giddy brain, And makes me frantic for my Gaveston. Ah ! had some bloodless Fury rose from hell, And with my kingly sceptre struck me dead, When I was forced to leave my Gaveston ! Lan. Diablo ! What passions call you these ? Q. Isab. My gracious lord, I come to bring you news. K. Edw. That you have parleyed with your Mortimer ! Q. Isab. That Gaveston, my lord, shall be repealed. K. Edw. Repealed ! the news is too sweet to be true ? Q. Isab. But will you love me, if you find it so ? K. Edw. If it be so, what will not Edward do ? Q. Isab. For Gaveston, but not for Isabel. K. Edw. For thee, fair queen, if thou lov'st Gaveston ; I'll hang a golden tongue about thy neck, Seeing thou hast pleaded with so good success. Q. Isab. No other jewels hang about my neck Than these, my lord ; nor let me have more wealth Than I may fetch from this rich treasury O how a kiss revives poor Isabel ! K. Edw. Once more receive my hand ; and let this be A second marriage 'twixt thyself and me. SCENE iv.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 347 Q. Isab. And may it prove more happy than the first ! My gentle lord, bespeak these nobles fair, That wait attendance for a gracious look, And on their knees salute your majesty, K. Edw. Courageous Lancaster, embrace thy king ! And, as gross vapours perish by the sun, Even so let hatred with thy sovereign's smile. Live thou with me as my companion. Lan. This salutation overjoys my heart. K. Edw. Warwick shall be my chiefest counsellor : These silver hairs will more adorn my court Than gaudy silks, or rich embroidery. Chide me, sweet Warwick, if I go astray. War. Slay me, my lord, when I offend your grace. K. Edw. In solemn triumphs, and in public shows, Pembroke shall bear the sword before the king. Pern. And with this sword Pembroke will fight for you. K. Edw. But wherefore walks young Mortimer aside ? Be thou commander of our royal fleet ; Or, if that lofty office like thee not, I make thee here Lord Marshal of the realm. Y. Mor. My lord, I'll marshal so your enemies, As England shall be quiet, and you safe. K. Edw. And as for you, Lord Mortimer of Chirke, Whose great achievements in our foreign war Deserves no common place, nor mean reward ; Be you the general of the levied troops, That now are ready to assail the Scots. E. Mor. In this your grace hath highly honoured me, For with my nature war doth best agree. Q. Isab. Now is the King of England rich and strong, Having the love of his renowned peers. K. Edw. Ay, Isabel, ne'er was my heart so light. 348 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT i. Clerk of the crown, direct our warrant forth For Gaveston to Ireland : Enter BEAUMONT with warrant. Beaumont, fly As fast as Iris or Jove's Mercury. Bea. It shall be done, my gracious lord. \_Exit. K. Edw. Lord Mortimer, we leave you to your charge. Now let us in, and feast it royally. Against our friend the Earl of Cornwall comes, We'll have a general tilt and tournament ; And then his marriage shall be solemnised. For wot you not that I have made him sure l Unto our cousin, the Earl of Gloucester's heir ? Lan. Such news we hear, my lord. K. Edw. That day, if not for him, yet for my sake, Who in the triumph will be challenger, Spare for no cost ; we will requit your love. War. In this, or aught your highness shall command us. K. Edw. Thanks, gentle Warwick : come, let's in and revel \_Exeunt all except the MORTIMERS. E. Mor. Nephew, I must to Scotland; thou stayest here. Leave now t' oppose thyself against the king. Thou seest by nature he is mild and calm, And, seeing his mind so doats on Gaveston, Let him without controulment have his will. The mightiest kings have had their minions : Great Alexander loved Hephestion ; The conquering Hercules for Hylas wept ; And for Patroclus stern Achilles drooped. And not kings only, but the wisest men : The Roman Tully loved Octavius ; 1 i.e. Affianced him SCENE iv.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 349 Grave Socrates wild Alcibiades. Then let his grace, whose youth is flexible, And promiseth as much as we can wish, Freely enjoy that vain, light-headed earl; For riper years will wean him from such toys. Y. Mor. Uncle, his wanton humour grieves not me ; But this I scorn, that one so basely born Should by his sovereign's favour grow so pert, And riot it with the treasure of the realm. While soldiers mutiny for want of pay, He wears a lord's revenue on his back, And Midas-like, he jets l it in the court, With base outlandish cullions 2 at his heels, Whose proud fantastic liveries make such show, As if that Proteus, god of shapes, appeared. I have not seen a dapper Jack so brisk ; He wears a short Italian hooded cloak, Larded with pearl, and, in his Tuscan cap, A jewel of more value than the crown. While others walk below, the king and he From out a window laugh at such as we, And flout our train, and jest at our attire. Uncle, 'tis this makes me impatient. E. Mor. But, nephew, now you see the king is changed. Y. Mor. Then so am I, and live to do him service : But whiles I have a sword, a hand, a heart, I will not yield to any such upstart. You know my mind ; come, uncle, let's away. \_Exeunt. 1 Struts, fr.,jetter. 2 Scoundrels. ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I. Enter Young SPENCER and BALDOCK. 1 ALD. Spencer, Seeing that our lord the Earl of Glou- cester's dead, Which of the nobles dost thou mean to serve ? [his side ; Y. Spen. Not Mortimer, nor any of Because the king and he are enemies. Baldock, learn this of me, a factious lord Shall hardly do himself good, much less us ; But he that hath the favour of a king, May with one word advance us while we live : The liberal Earl of Cornwall is the man On whose good fortune Spencer's hopes depends. Bald. What, mean you then to be his follower ? Y. Spen. No, his companion ; for he loves me well, And would have once preferred me to the king. Bald. But he is banished ; there's small hope of him. Y. Spen. Ay, for a while; but, Baldock, mark the end. A friend of mine told me in secrecy 1 Dyce supposes the scene to be a hall in Gloucester house. SCENE I.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 351 That he's repealed, and sent for back again ; And even now a post came from the court With letters to our lady from the king ; And as she read she smiled, which makes me think It is about her lover Gaveston. Bald. 'Tis like enough ; for since he was exiled She neither walks abroad, nor comes in sight. But I had thought the match had been broke off, And that his banishment had changed her mind. Y. Spcn. Our lady's first love is not wavering ; My life for thine she will have Gaveston. Bald. Then hope I by her means to be preferred, Having read unto her since she was a child. Y. Spen. Then, Baldock, you must cast the scholar off, And learn to court it like a gentleman. ; Tis not a black coat and a little band, A velvet-caped coat, faced before with serge, And smelling to a nosegay all the day, Or holding of a napkin in your hand, Or saying a long grace at a table's end, Or making low legs to a nobleman, Or looking downward with your eyelids close, And saying, " Truly, an't may please your honour," Can get you any favour with great men ; You must be proud, bold, pleasant, resolute, And now and then stab, as occasion serves. Bald. Spencer, thou know'st I hate such formal toys, And use them but of mere hypocrisy. Mine old lord whiles he lived was so precise, That he would take exceptions at my buttons, And being like pin's heads, blame me for the bigness ; Which made me curate-like in mine attire, Though inwardly licentious enough, And apt for any kind of villany. 352 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT n. I am none of these common pedants, I, That cannot speak without propterea quod. Y. Spen. But one of those that saith, quandoquidem, And hath a special gift to form a verb. Bald. Leave off this jesting, here my lady comes. Enter KING EDWARD'S Niece. Niece. The grief for his exile was not so much, As is the joy of his returning home. This letter came from my sweet Gaveston : What need'st thou, love, thus to excuse thyself? I know thou could'st not come and visit me : [Reads.] " I will not long be from thee, though I die." This argues the entire love of my lord ; [Reads. ~\ " When I forsake thee, death seize on my heart : " But stay thee here where Gaveston shall sleep. [Puts the letter into her bosom. Now to the letter of my lord the king. He wills me to repair unto the court, And meet my Gaveston ? why do I stay, Seeing that he talks thus of my marriage-day? Who's there ? Baldock ! See that my coach be ready, I must hence. Bald. It shall be done, madam. Niece. And meet me at the park-pale presently. [Exit BALDOCK. Spencer, stay you and bear me company, For I have joyful news to tell thee of; My lord of Cornwall is a-coming over, And will be at the court as soon as we. Y. Spen. I knew the king would have him home again. Niece. If all things sort 1 out, as I hope they will, Thy service, Spencer, shall be thought upon. 1 Turn. SCENE ii.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 353 Y. Spen. I humbly thank your ladyship. Niece. Come, lead the way ; I long till I am there. \Exeunt. SCENE II. Enter KING EDWARD, QUEEN ISABELLA, KENT, LAN- CASTER, Young MORTIMER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, and Attendants. K. Edw. The wind is good, I wonder why he stays ; I fear me he is wrecked upon the sea. Q. Isab. Look, Lancaster, how passionate 1 he is, And still his mind runs on his minion ! Lan. My lord, K. Edw. How now ! what news ? is Gaveston arrived ? Y. Mor. Nothing but Gaveston ! what means your grace? You have matters of more weight to think upon ; The King of France sets foot in Normandy. K. Edw. A trifle ! we'll expel him when we please. But tell me, Mortimer, what's thy device Against the stately triumph we decreed ? Y. Mor. A homely one, my lord, not worth the telling. K. Edw. Pray thee let me know it. Y. Mor. But, seeing you are so desirous, thus it is : A lofty cedar-tree, fair flourishing, On whose top-branches kingly eagles perch, And by the bark a canker creeps me up, And gets into the highest bough of all : The motto, *-que tandem. K. Edw. And what is yours, my lord of Lancaster ? Lan. My lord, mine's more obscure than Mortimer's. 1 Sorrowful. Mar. A A 354 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT 11. Pliny reports there is a flying fish Which all the other fishes deadly hate, And therefore, being pursued, it takes the air : No sooner is it up, but there's a fowl That seizeth it; this fish, my lord, I bear, The motto this : Undique mors est. Kent. Proud Mortimer ! ungentle Lancaster ! Is this the love you bear your sovereign ? Is this the fruit your reconcilement bears ? Can you in words make show of amity, And in your shields display your rancorous minds ! What call you this but private libelling Against the Earl of Cornwall and my brother ? Q. Isab. Sweet husband, be content, they all love you. K. Edw. They love me not that hate my Gaveston.- I am that cedar, shake me not too much ; And you the eagles ; soar ye ne'er so high, I have the jesses 1 that will pull you down ; And sEque tandem shall that canker cry Unto the proudest peer of Britainy. Though thou compar'st him to a flying fish, And threatenest death whether he rise or fall, J Tis not the hugest monster of the sea, Nor foulest harpy that shall swallow him. Y. Mor. If in his absence thus he favours him, What will he do whenas he shall be present ? Lan. That shall we see ; look where his lordship comes. Enter GAVESTON. K. Edw. My Gaveston ! Welcome to Tynemouth ! welcome to thy friend ! Thy absence made me droop and pine away ; 1 The straps round a hawk's legs, with rings attached, to which he falconer's leash was fastened. SCENE ii.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 355 For, as the lovers of fair Danae, When she was locked up in a brazen tower, Desired her more, and waxed outrageous, So did it fare with me : and now thy sight Is sweeter far than was thy parting hence Bitter and irksome to my sobbing heart. Gav. Sweet lord and king, your speech preventeth ' mine, Yet have I words left to express my joy : The shepherd nipt with biting winter's rage Frolics not more to see the painted spring, Than I do to behold your majesty. K. Edw. Will none of you salute my Gaveston ? Lan. Salute him ? yes ; welcome, Lord Chamberlain ! Y. Mor. Welcome is the good Earl of Cornwall ! War. Welcome, Lord Governor of the Isle of Man ! Pern. Welcome, Master Secretary ! Kent. Brother, do you hear them ? K. Edw. Still will these earls and barons use me thus. Gav. My lord, I cannot brook these injuries. Q. Isab. Ay me, poor soul, when these begin to jar. [Aside. K. Edw. Return it to their throats, I'll be thy warrant. Gav. Base, leaden earls, that glory in your birth, Go sit at home and eat your tenant's beef; And come not here to scoff at Gaveston, Whose mounting thoughts did never creep so low As to bestow a look on such as you. Lan. Yet I disdain not to do this for you. [Draws his sword and offers to stab GAVESTON. K. Edw. Treason ! treason ! where's the traitor ? Pern. Here ! here ! K. Edw. Convey hence Gaveston ; they'll murder him. 1 i.e. Anticipateth. 356 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT n. Gav. The life of thee shall salve this foul disgrace. Y. Mor. Villain ! thy life, unless I miss mine aim. [ Wounds GAVESTON. Q. Isab. Ah ! furious Mortimer, what hast thou done ? K, Mor. No more than I would answer, were he slain. [Exit GAVESTON with Attendants. K. Edw. Yes, more than thou canst answer, though he live ; Dear shall you both abide this riotous deed. Out of my presence ! come not near the court. Y. Mor. I'll not be barred the court for Gaveston. Lan. We'll hale him by the ears unto the block. K. Edw. Look to your own heads ; his is sure enough. War. Look to your own crown, if you back him thus. Kent. Warwick, these words do ill beseem thy years. K. Edw. Nay, all of them conspire to cross me thus ; But if I live, I'll tread upon their heads That think with high looks thus to tread me down. Come, 'Edmund, let's away and levy men, 'Tis war that must abate these barons' pride. [Exeunt KING EDWARD, QUEEN ISABELLA, and KENT. War. Let's to our castles, for the king is moved. Y. Mor. Moved may he be, and perish in his wrath ! Lan. Cousin, it is no dealing with him now, He means to make us stoop by force of arms ; And therefore let us jointly here protest, To persecute that Gaveston to the death. Y. Mor. By heaven, the abject villain shall not live ! War. I'll have his blood, or die in seeking it. Pern. The like oath Pembroke takes. Lan. And so doth Lancaster. Now send our heralds to defy the king ; And make the people swear to put him down. SCENE ii.] EDWARD THE SECOXD. 357 Enter a Messenger. 3 * Mor. Letters ! from whence ? Mess. From Scotland, my lord. {Giving letters to MORTIMER. Lan. Why. how now, cousin, how fares all our friends ? 3 '. Mor. My uncle's taken prisoner by the Scots. Lan. We'll have him ransomed, man ; be of good cheer. Y. Mor. They rate his ransom at five thousand pound. Who should defray the money but the king. Seeing he is taken prisoner in his wars ? I'll to the king. Lan. Do, cousin, and Til bear thee company. War. Meantime, my lord of Pembroke and myself Will to Newcastle here, and gather head. V. Mor. About it then, and we will follow you. Lan. Be resolute and full of secrecy. War. I warrant you. {Exit u. And who must keep me now ? Must you, my lord ? SCENE n.j EDWARD THE SECOND. 40! Berk. Ay, my most gracious lord so 'tis decreed. K. Ediv. [taking the paper.] Ey Mortimer, whose name is written here ! Well may I rend his name that rends my heart ! [Tears it. This poor revenge has something eased my mind. So may his limbs be torn, as is this paper ! Hear me, immortal Jove, and grant it too ! Berk. Your grace must hence with me to Berkeley straight. K. Edw. Whither you will ; all places are alike, And every earth is fit for burial. Leices. Favour him, my lord, as much as lieth in yoU; Berk. Even so betide my soul as I use him. K. Edw. Mine enemy hath pitied my estate, And that's the cause that I am now removed. Berk. And thinks your grace that Berkeley will be cruel ? K. Edw. I know not ; but of this am I assured^ That death ends all, and I can die but once. Leicester, farewell ! Leices. Not yet, my lord ; I'll bear you on your way. \Exeunt. SCENE II. Enter QUEEN ISABELLA and Young MORTIMER. Y. Mor. Fair Isabel, now have we our desire ; The proud corrupters of the light-brained king Have done their homage to the lofty gallows, And he himself lies in captivity. Be ruled by me, and we will rule the realm. 1 The scene is an apartment in the royal palace. Mar. D L) 402 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT v. .In any case take heed of childish fear, For now we hold an old wolf by the ears, That, if he slip, will seize upon us both, And gripe the sorer, being griped himself. Think therefore, madam, that imports us much To erect your son with all the speed we may, And that I be protector over him ; For our behoof will bear the greater sway Whenas a king's name shall be under writ. Q. Isab. Sweet Mortimer, the life of Isabel, Be thou persuaded that I love thee well, And therefore, so the prince my son be safe, Whom I esteem as dear as these mine eyes, Conclude against his father what thou wilt, And I myself will willingly subscribe. Y. Mor. First would I hear news he were deposed, And then let me alone to handle him. Enter Messenger. Letters ! from whence ? Mess. From Killingworth, my lord. Q. Isab. How fares my lord the king ? Mess. In health, madam, but full of pensiveness. Q. Isab. Alas, poor soul, would I could ease his grief ! Enter the BISHOP 0/" WINCHESTER with the crown. Thanks, gentle Winchester. [To the Messenger.] Sirrah, be gone. [Exit Messenger. B. of Win. The king hath willingly resigned his crown. Q. Isab. O happy news ! send for the prince, my son. B. of Win. Further, or this letter was sealed, Lord Berkeley came, So that he now is gone from Killingworth ; And we have heard that Edmund laid a plot SCENE ii.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 403 To set his brother free ; no more but so. The lord of Berkeley is as pitiful As Leicester that had charge of him before. Q. Isab. Then let some other be his guardian. Y. Mor. Let me alone, here is the privy seal. [Exit the BISHOP #/" WINCHESTER. Who's there ? Call hither Gurney and Matrevis. {To Attendants within. To dash the heavy-headed Edmund's drift, Berkeley shall be discharged, the king removed, And none but we shall know where he lieth. Q. Isab. But, Mortimer, as long as he survives, What safety rests for us, or for my son ? Y. Mor. Speak, shall he presently be despatched and die? Q. Isab. I would he were, so 'twere not by my means. Enter MATREVIS l and GURNEY. Y. Mor. Enough. Matrevis, write a letter presently Unto the lord of Berkeley from ourself That he resign the king to thee and Gurney ; And when 'tis done, we will subscribe our name. Mat. It shall be done, my lord. [ Writes. Y. Mor. Gurney. Gur. My lord. Y. Mor. As thou intend'st to rise by Mortimer, Who now makes Fortune's wheel turn as he please, Seek all the means thou canst to make him droop, And neither give him kind word nor good look. Gur. I warrant you, my lord. Y. Mor. And this above the rest : because we hear That Edmund casts a to work his liberty, 1 i.e. Sir John Maltravcr.s. - 1'Iots. D D 2 404 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT v. Remove him still from place to place by night, Till at the last he come to Killingworth, And then from thence to Berkeley back again ; And by the way, to make him fret the more, Speak curstly to him ; and in any case Let no man comfort him if he chance to weep, But amplify his grief with bitter words. Mat. Fear not, my lord, we'll do as you command. Y. Mor. So now away ; post thitherwards amain. Q. Isab. Whither goes this letter? to my lord the king? Commend me humbly to his majesty, And tell him that I labour all in vain To ease his grief, and work his liberty ; And bear him this as witness of my love. [ Gives a ring. Mat. I will, madam. [Exit tvith GURNEY. Y. Mor. Finely dissembled. Do so still, sweet queen. Here comes the young prince with the Earl of Kent. Q. Isab. Something he whispers in his childish ears. Y. Mor. If he have such access unto the prince, Our plots and stratagems will soon be dashed. Q. Isab. Use Edmund friendly as if all were well. Enter PRINCE EDWARD, and KENT talking with him. Y. Mor. How fares my honourable lord of Kent ? Kent. In health, sweet Mortimer : how fares your grace? Q. Isab. Well, if my lord your brother were enlarged. Kent. I hear of late he hath deposed himself. Q. Isab. The more my grief. Y. Mor. And mine. Kent. Ah, they do dissemble ! \Asidi\ Q. Isab. Sweet son, come hither, I must talk with thee. Y. Mor. You being his uncle, and the next of blood, Do look to be protector o'er the prince. SCENE II.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 405 Kent. Not I, my lord ; who should protect the son, But she that gave him life ? I mean the queen. P. Edw. Mother, persuade me not to wear the crown : Let him be king I am too young to reign. Q. Isab. But be content, seeing 'tis his highness' pleasure. P. Edw. Let me but see him first, and then I will. Kent. Ay, do, sweet nephew. Q. Isab. Brother, you know it is impossible. P. Edw. Why, is he dead ? Q. Isab. No, God forbid. Kent. I would those words proceeded from your heart. Y. Mor. Inconstant Edmund, dost thou favour him, That wast a cause of his imprisonment ? Kent. The more cause have I now to make amends. Y. Mor. \_Aside to Q. ISAB.] I tell thee, 'tis not meet that one so false Should come about the person of a prince. My lord, he hath betrayed the king his brother, And therefore trust him not. P. Edw. But he repents, and sorrows for it now. Q. Isab. Come, son, and go with this gentle lord and me. P. Edw. With you I will, but not with Mortimer. Y. Mor. Why, youngling, 'sdain'st thou so of Morti- mer ? Then I will carry thee by force away. P. Edw. Help, uncle Kent ! Mortimer will wrong me. Q. Isab. Brother Edmund, strive not : we are his friends ; Isabel is nearer than the Earl of Kent. Kent. Sister, Edward is my charge, redeem him. Q. Isab. Edward is my son, and I will keep him. Kent. Mortimer shall know that he hath wronged me ! 406 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT v. Hence will I haste to Killingworth Castle, And rescue aged Edward from his foes, To be revenged on Mortimer and thee. [Aside. Exeunt on one side QUEEN ISABELLA, PRINCE EDWARD, and Young MORTIMER ; on the other KENT. SCENE III. Enter MATREVIS and GURNEY and Soldiers, with KING EDWARD. 1 Mat. My lord, be not pensive, we are your friends ; Men are ordained to live in misery, Therefore come, dalliance dangereth our lives. K. Edw. Friends, whither must unhappy Edward go ? Will hateful Mortimer appoint no rest ? Must I be vexed like the nightly bird, Whose sight is loathsome to all winged fowls ? When will the fury of his mind assuage ? When will his heart be satisfied with blood ? If mine will serve, unbowel straight this breast, And give my heart to Isabel and him ; It is the chiefest mark they level at. Gnr. Not so, my liege, the queen hath given this charge To keep your grace in safety ; Your passions make your dolours to increase. K. Edw. This usage makes my misery to increase. But can my air of life continue long When all my senses are annoyed with stench ? Within a dungeon England's king is kept, Where I am starved for want of sustenance. 1 The scene is within Kenilworth castle. SCENE in.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 407 My daily diet is heart-breaking sobs, That almost rent the closet of my heart ; Thus lives old l Edward not relieved by any, And so must die, though pitied by many. O, water, gentle friends, to cool my thirst, And clear my body from foul excrements ! Mat. Here's channel 2 water, as your charge is given ; Sit down, for we'll be barbers to your grace. K. Edw. Traitors, away ! what, will you murder me, Or choke your sovereign with puddle water ? Gnr. No ; but wash your face, and shave away your beard, Lest you be known and so be rescued. Mat. Why strive you thus ? your labour is in vain ! K. Edw. The wren may strive against the lion's strength, But all in vain : so vainly do I strive To seek for mercy at a tyrant's hand. [ They wash him with puddle water, and shave off his beard. Immortal powers ! that knows the painful cares That wait upon my poor distressed soul, O level all your looks upon these daring men, That wrongs their liege and sovereign, England's king ! O Gaveston, 'tis for thee that I am wronged, For me, both thou and both the Spencers died ! And for your sakes a thousand wrongs I'll take. The Spencers' ghosts, wherever they remain, Wish well to mine ; then tush, for them I'll die. Mat. 'Twixt theirs and yours shall be no enmity. Come, come away; now put the torches out, We'll enter in by darkness to Killingworth. 1 Stow often speaks of Edward II. as the "old king," although he was only forty-three at the time of his murder. - Kennel, gutter. 408 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT v. Enter KENT, Gur. How now, who comes there ? Mat. Guard the king sure : it is the Earl of Kent. K. Edw. O gentle brother, help to rescue me ! Mat. Keep them asunder ; thrust in the king. Kent. Soldiers, let me but talk to him one word. Gur. Lay hands upon the earl for his assault. Kent. Lay down your weapons, traitors ! yield the king ! Mat. Edmund, yield thou thyself, or thou shalt die. Kent. Base villains, wherefore do you gripe me thus ? Gur. Bind him and so convey him to the court. Kent. Where is the court but here ? here is the king ; And I will visit him ; why stay you me ? Mat. The court is where Lord Mortimer remains ; Thither shall your honour go ; and so farewell. \_Exeunt MATREVIS and GURNEY, with KING EDWARD. Kent. O miserable is that commonweal, Where lords keep courts, and kings are locked in prison ! Sol. Wherefore stay we ? on, sirs, to the court ! Kent. Ay, lead me whither you will, even to my death, Seeing that my brother cannot be released. [Exeunt. SCENE Enter Young MORTIMER.' Y. Mor. The king must die, or Mortimer goes down ; The commons now begin to pity him : Yet he that is the cause of Edward's death, Is sure to pay for it when his son's of age ; And therefore will I do it cunningly. 1 The scene is an apartment in the royal palace. SCENE iv.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 409 This letter, written by a friend of ours, Contains his death, yet bids them save his life. [Reads. " Edwardum occidere noliie timerc, bonum est Fear not to kill the king, 'tis good he die." But read it thus, and that's another sense : " Edwardum occidere nolite, timere bonum est Kill not the king, 'tis good to fear the worst." Unpointed as it is, thus shall it go, That, being dead, if it chance to be found, Matrevis and the rest may bear the blame, And we be quit that caused it to be done. Within this room is locked the messenger That shall convey it, and perform the rest : And by a secret token that he bears, Shall he be murdered when the deed is done. Lightborn, come forth ! Enter LIGHTBORN. Art thou so resolute as thou wast ? Light. What else, my lord ? and far more resolute. Y. Mor. And hast thou cast * how to accomplish it ? Light. Ay, ay, and none shall know which way he died. Y. Mor. But at his looks, Lightborn, thou wilt relent. Light. Relent ! ha, ha ! I use much to relent. Y. Mor. Well, do it bravely, and be secret. Light. You shall not need to give instructions ; ; Tis not the first time I have killed a man. I learned in Naples how to poison flowers ; To strangle with a lawn thrust down the throat ; To pierce the windpipe with a needle's point ; Or whilst one is asleep, to take a quill And blow a little powder in his' ears : 1 Contrived. 410 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT v. Or open his mouth and pour quicksilver down. And yet I have a braver way than these. Y. Mor. What's that ? Light. Nay, you shall pardon me ; none shall know my tricks. Y. Mor. I care not how it is, so it be not spied. Deliver this to Gurney and Matrevis. \_Gives letter. At every ten mile end thou hast a horse. Take this ; [Gives money~\ away ! and never see me more. Light. No! Y. Mor. No ; Unless thou bring me news of Edward's death. Light. That will I quickly do. Farewell, my lord. \Eadt. Y. Mor. The prince I rule, the queen do I command, And with a lowly conge to the ground, The proudest lords salute me as I pass ; I seal, I cancel, I do what I will. Feared am I more than loved ; let me be feared, And when I frown, make all the court look pale. I view the prince with Aristarchus' eyes, Whose looks were as a breeching to a boy. They thrust upon me the protectorship, And sue to me for that that I desire. While at the council-table, grave enough, And not unlike a bashful puritan, First I complain of imbecility, Saying it is onus quam gravissimum ; Till being interrupted. by my friends, Snscepi that provinciam as they term it ; And to conclude, I am Protector now. Now is all sure : the queen and Mortimer Shall rule the realm, the king ; and none rules us. Mine enemies will I plague, my friends advance ; SCENE iv.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 411 And what I list command who dare control ? Major sum qnam cui possit fortuna nocere. 1 And that this be the coronation-day, It pleaseth me, and Isabel the queen. {Trumpets within. The trumpet s sound, I must go take my place. Enter KING EDWARD THE THIRD, QUEEN ISABELLA, the ARCHBISHOP of CANTERBURY, Champion and Nobles. 2 A. of Cant. Long live King Edward, by the grace of God, King of England and Lord of Ireland ! Cham. If any Christian, Heathen, Turk, or Jew, Dare but affirm that Edward's not true king, And will avouch his saying with the sword, I am the champion that will combat him. Y. Mor. None comes, sound trumpets. [ Trumpets sound. K. Ediv. Third. Champion, here's to thee. \_Gives a purse. Q. Isab. Lord Mortimer, now take him to your charge. Enter Soldiers, with Y^.^^ prisoner. Y. Mor. What traitor have we there with blades and bills? Sol. Edmund, the Earl of Kent. K. Edw. Third. What hath he done ? Sol. 'A would have taken the king away perforce, As we were bringing him to Killingworth. Y. Mor. Did you attempt his rescue, Edmund ? speak. Kent. Mortimer, I did ; he is our king, And thou compell'st this prince to wear the crown. Y. Mor. Strike off his head ! he shall have martial law. 1 Ovid, Metam. vi. 195. - The scene is now at Westminster. 412 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT v. Kent. Strike off my head ! base traitor, I defy thee ! K. Edw. Third. My lord, he is my uncle, and shall live. Y. Mor. My lord, he is your enemy, and shall die. Kent. Stay, villains ! K. Edw. Third. Sweet mother, if I cannot pardon him, Entreat my Lord Protector for his life. Q.. Isab. Son, be content ; I dare not speak a word. K. Edw. Third. Nor I, and yet methinks I should command ; But, seeing I cannot, I'll entreat for him My lord, if you will let my uncle live, I will requite it when I come to age. K Mor. 'Tis for your highness' good, and for the realm's. How often shall I bid you bear him hence ? Kent. Art thou king ? must I die at thy command ? Y. Mor. At our command. Once more away with him. Kent. Let me but stay and speak ; I will not go. Either my brother or his son is king, And none of both them thirst for Edmund's blood : And therefore, soldiers, whither will you hale me ? [Soldiers hale KENT away, to be beheaded. K. Edw. Third. What safety may I look for at his hands, If that my uncle shall be murdered thus ? Q. Isab. Fear not, sweet boy, I'll guard thee from thy foes ; Had Edmund lived, he would have sought thy death. Come, son, we'll ride ^.-hunting in the park. K. Edw. Third. And shall my uncle Edmund ride with us? Q. Isab. He is a traitor ; think not on him ; come. | Exeunt. SCENE v.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 413 SCENE V. 1 Enter MATREVIS and GURXEY. ; Mat. Gurney, I wonder the king dies not, Being in a vault up to the knees in water, To which the channels of the castle run, From whence a damp continually ariseth, That were enough to poison any man, Much more a king brought up so tenderly. Gur. And so do I, Matrevis : yesternight I opened but the door to throw him meat, And I was almost stifled with the savour. Mat. He hath a body able to endure More than we can inflict : and therefore now Let us assail his mind another while. Gur. Send for him out thence, and I will anger him. Mat. But stay, who's this ? Enter LIGHTBORN. LigM. My Lord Protector greets you. [Gives letter. Gur. What's here ? I know not how to construe it. Mat. Gurney, it was left unpointed for the nonce ; " Edwardum occidere nolite timere" That's his meaning. Light. Know ye this token ? I must have the king. [ Gives token. Mat. Ay, stay awhile, thou shalt have answer straight This villain's sent to make away the king. \_Aside. Gur. I thought as much. {Aside. Mat. And when the murder's done, 1 "The death-scene of Marlowe's King," said Charles Lamb, 1 ' moves pity and terror beyond any scene, ancient or modern, with which I am acquainted." The scene is within Berkeley castle. 414 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT v. See how he must be handled for his labour. Pereat iste .' Let him have the king. \_Aside. What else ? here is the key, this is the lock, 1 Do as you are commanded by my lord. Light. I know what I must do. Get you away. Yet be not far off, I shall need your help ; See that in the next room I have a fire, And get me a spit, and let it be red-hot. Mat. Very well. Gur. Need you anything besides ? Light. What else ? A table and a feather-bed. Gur. That's all ? Light. Ay, ay; so, when I call you, bring it in. Mat. Fear not thou that. Gur. Here's a light, to go into the dungeon. [Gives a light, and then exit with MATREVIS.- Light. So now Must I about this gear ; ;; ne'er was there any So finely handled as this king shall be. Foh, here's a place indeed, with all my heart ! K. Edisj. Who's there ? what light is that ? wherefore com'st thou ? Light. To comfort you, and bring you joyful news. K. Edw. Small comfort finds poor Edward in thy looks. Villain, I know thou com'st to murder me. Light. To murder you, my most gracious lord ! Far is it from my heart to do you harm. The queen sent me to see how you were used, For she relents at this your misery : 1 "Lake" in the old editions, Mr. Bulkn suggested "lock." 2 The scene now discloses the interior of the dungeon in which King Edward is confined. 3 Business. SCENE v.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 41 5 And what eyes can refrain from shedding tears, To see a king in this most piteous state ? K. Edw. Weep'st thou already ? list awhile to me. And then thy heart, were it as Gurney's is, Or as Matrevis', hewn from the Caucasus, Yet will it melt, ere I have done my tale. This dungeon where they keep me is the sink Wherein the filth of all the castle falls. Light. O villains ! K. Edw. And there in mire and puddle have I stood This ten days' space ; and, lest that I should sleep, One plays continually upon a drum. They give me bread and water, being a king ; So that, for want of sleep and sustenance, My mind's distempered, and my body's numbed, And whether I have limbs or no I know not. O, would my blood dropped out from every vein, As doth this water from my tattered robes. Tell Isabel, the queen, I looked not thus, When for her sake I ran at tilt in France, And there unhorsed the Duke of Cleremont. Light. O speak no more, my lord ! this breaks my heart. Lie on this bed, 1 and rest yourself awhile. K. Edw. These looks of thine can harbour nought but death : I see my tragedy written in thy brows. Yet stay ; awhile forbear thy bloody hand, And let me see the stroke before it comes, That even then when I shall lose my life, My mind may be more steadfast on my God. Light. What means your highness to mistrust me thus? 1 i.e. The feather-bed provided by Gurney and Matrevis. 416 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT v. K. Edw. What mean'st thou to dissemble with me thus ? Light. These hands were never stained with innocent blood, Nor shall they now be tainted with a king's. K. Edw. Forgive my thought l for having such a thought. One jewel have I left; receive thou this. \_Givingjewel. Still fear I, and I know not what's the cause, But every joint shakes as I give it thee. O, if thou harbourest murder in thy heart, Let this gift change thy mind, and save thy soul Know that I am a king : O, at that name I feel a hell of grief ! where is my crown ? Gone, gone ! and do I still remain alive ? Light. You're overwatched, my lord ; lie down and rest. K. Edw. But that grief keeps me waking, I should sleep ; For not these ten days have these eye-lids closed. Now as I speak they fall, and yet with fear Open again. O wherefore sitt'st thou here ? Light. If you mistrust me, I'll begone, my lord. K. Edw. No, no, for if thou mean'st to murder me, Thou wilt return again, and therefore stay. \_Sleeps. Light. He sleeps. K. Edw. \waking\ O let me not die yet ! O stay a while ! Light. How now, my lord ? K. Edw. Something still buzzeth in mine ears, And tells me if I sleep I never wake ; This fear is that which makes me tremble thus. And therefore tell me, wherefore art thou come ? Light. To rid thee of thy life. Matrevis, come ! 1 Mr. Fleay proposes to read "fault." SCENE vi.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 417 Enter MATREVIS and GURNEY. K. Edw. I am too weak and feeble to resist : Assist me, sweet God, and receive my soul ! Light. Run for the table. K. Ediv. O spare me, or despatch me in a trice. [MATREVIS brings in a table. Light. So, lay the table down, and stamp on it, But not too hard, lest that you bruise his body. [KING EDWARD is murdered. Mat. I fear me that this cry will raise the town, And therefore, let us take horse and away. Light. Tell me, sirs, was it not bravely done ? Gur. Excellent well : take this for thy reward. [GuRNEY stabs LIGHTBORN. who dies. Come, let us cast the body in the moat, And bear the king's to Mortimer our lord : Away ! [Exeunt with the bodies. SCENE VI. Enter Young MORTIMER and MATREVis. 1 Y. Mor. Is't done, Matrevis, and the murderer dead ? Mat. Ay, my good lord ; I would it were undone ! Y. Mor. Matrevis, if thou now growest penitent I'll be thy ghostly father ; therefore choose, Whether thou wilt be secret in this, Or else die by the hand of Mortimer. Mat. Gurney, my lord, is fled, and will, I fear Betray us both, therefore let me fly. Y. Mor. Fly to the savages ! Mat. I humbly thank your honour. \Exit. 1 The scene is an apartment in the royal palace. Mar. H B 4i 8 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT v. Y. Mor. As for myself, I stand as Jove's huge tree, And others are but shrubs compared to me. All tremble at my name, and I fear none ; Let's see who dare impeach me for his death ! Enter QUEEN ISABELLA. Q. Isab. Ah, Mortimer, the king my son hath news His father's dead, and we have murdered him ! Y. Mor, What if he have ? the king is yet a child. Q. Isab. Ay, but he tears his hair, and wrings his hands, And vows to be revenged upon us both. Into the council-chamber he is gone, To crave the aid and succour of his peers. Ay me ! see where he comes, and they with him ; Now, Mortimer, begins our tragedy. EDWARD THE THIRD, Lords, and Attendants. isf Lord. Fear not, my lord, know that you are a king. K. Edw. Third. Villain ! Y. Mor. Ho, now, my lord ! K. Edw. Third. Think not that I am frighted with thy words ! My father's murdered through thy treachery ; And thou shalt die, and on his mournful hearse Thy hateful and accursed head shall lie, To witness to th'e world, that by thy means His kingly body was too soon interred. Q. Isab. Weep not, sweet son ! K. Edw. Third, forbid me not to weep ; he was my father ; And, had you loved him half so well as I, You could not bear his death thus patiently. But you, I fear, conspired with Mortimer. ist Lord. Why speak you not unto my lord the king ? SCENE vi.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 419 Y. Mor. Because I think it scorn to be accused. Who is the man dares say I murdered him ? K. Edw. Third. Traitor ! in me my loving father speaks, And plainly saith, 'twas thou that murder'dst him. Y. Mor. But has your grace no other proof than this ? K. Edw. Third. Yes, if this be the hand of Mortimer. \Shewing letter. Y. Mor. False Gurney hath betrayed me and himself. {Aside. Q. Isab. I feared as much ; murder cannot be hid. \_Aside. Y. Mor. It is my hand ; what gather you by this ? K. Edw. Third. That thither thou didst send a murderer. Y. Mor. What murderer? Bring forth the man I sent. K. Edw. Third. Ah, Mortimer, thou knowest that he is slain ; And so shalt thou be too Why stays he here Bring him unto a hurdle, drag him forth ; Hang him, I say, and set his quarters up ; But bring his head back presently to me. Q. Isab. For my sake, sweet son, pity Mortimer Y. Mor. Madam, entreat not, I will rather die, Than sue for life unto a paltry boy. K. Edw. Third. Hence with the traitor ! with the mur- derer ! Y. Mor. Base Fortune, now I see, that in thy wheel There is a point, to which when men aspire, They tumble headlong down : that point I touched, And, seeing there was no place to mount up higher, Why should I grieve at my declining fall ? Farewell, fair queen ; weep not for Mortimer, That scorns the world, and, as a traveller, Goes to discover countries yet unknown. 420 EDWARD THE SECOND. [ACT v. K. Edw. Third. What ! suffer you the traitor to delay ? [Young MORTIMER is taken away by istLord and Attendants. Q. Isab. As thou receivedest thy life from me, Spill not the blood of gentle Mortimer ! K. Edw. Third. This argues that you spilt my father's blood, Else would you not entreat for Mortimer. Q. Isab. I spill his blood ? no. K. Edw. Third. Ay, madam, you ; for so the rumour runs. Q. Isab. That rumour is untrue ; for loving thee, Is this report raised on poor Isabel. K. Edw. Third. I do not think her so unnatural. 2nd Lord. My lord, I fear me it will prove too true. K. Edw. Third. Mother, you are suspected for his death' And therefore we commit you to the Tower Till farther trial may be made thereof; If you be guilty, though I be your son, Think not to find me slack or pitiful. Q. Isab. Nay, to my death, for too long have I lived, Whenas my son thinks to abridge my days. K. Edw. Third. Away with her, her words enforce these tears, And I shall pity her if she speak again. Q. Isab. Shall I not mourn for my beloved lord, And with the rest accompany him to his grave ? 2nd Lord. Thus, madam, 'tis the king's will you shall hence. Q. Isab. He hath forgotten me ; stay, I am his mother. 2nd Lord. That boots not ; therefore, gentle madam, go- Q. Isab. Then come, sweet death, and rid me of this grief. \_Exit. SCENE vi.] EDWARD THE SECOND. 421 Re-enter ist Lord, with the head of Young MORTIMER. isf Lord. My lord, here is the head of Mortimer. K. Edw. Third. Go fetch my father's hearse, where it shall lie ; And bring my funeral robes. {Exeunt Attendants. Accursed head, Could I have ruled thee then, as I do now, Thou had'st not hatched this monstrous treachery ! Here comes the hearse ; help me to mourn, my^lords. Re-enter Attendants with the hearse and funeral robes. Sweet father, here unto thy murdered ghost I offer up this wicked traitor's head ; And let these tears, distilling from mine eyes, Be witness of my grief and innocency. \_Exeunt. ATTENVIX. EDWARD ALLEYN. UWARD ALLEYN (often spelt Allen), famous both as an actor and as the founder of Dulwich College, was born in 1566 in London, according to Fuller, near Devon- shire House. He was the younger son of a porter to the Queen, who acquired some property. His name first appears in a list of the Earl of Worcester's players in 1586. This was about the time of the appearance of Tamburlaine, and Alleyn came into popularity on the same wave as Marlowe. In Tanibitr- laine, The Jew of Malta, etc., as Thomas Hey wood the dramatist writes in 1633, in a prologue to the latter play, Alleyn " wan The attribute of peerless, being a man Whom we may rank with (doing no one wrong) Proteus for shapes, and Roscius for a tongue, So could he speak, so vary." Alleyn also took the part of Faustus, for in the inventory of his theatrical apparel we find "Faustus Jerkin, his cloke," and Samuel Rowlands writes, " The gull gets on a surplice, With a cross upon his breast, Like Allen playing Faustus, In that manner was he drest." Years previously Alleyn had been extolled by Nash in his Pierce Pennilesse, wherein we read : " Not Roscius nor 42; APPENDIX. Esope, those tragedians admired before Christ was born, could ever perform more in action than famous Ned Allen." This was written in 1592, when Alleyn was only twenty-six years of age. In the same year he married Joan Woodward, daughter by a former marriage of the then wife of Philip Henslowe. During the plague of 1593, the year of Marlowe's death, we find Alleyn on a provincial tour through Bristol, Shrews- bury, Chester, and York. In the year following he was back in London, and acquired an interest in the baiting-house at Paris Garden in Southwark, to which frequent allusion is made by contemporary dramatists. Four years afterwards he tried with Henslowe to obtain the post of Master of the royal game of bears, bulls, and mastiffs. This office was not secured, however, till 1604, the year of Alleyn's last recorded appearance on the stage, and appears to have been held by Alleyn till his death. On special occasions he took part in the sports himself, and Stow describes how he baited a lion before the King. Alleyn and Henslowe had built the Fortune Theatre in Golden Lane, Cripplegate, during the year 1600, but the Paris Garden was doubtless the chief source of Alleyn's wealth. In 1605 the manor of Dulwich was purchased by Alleyn at a total cost of ,10,000 ; he did not however obtain the whole estate till 1614, although before this date he had re- moved to Dulwich, and in 1613 had begun the construction of the College. In 1619 the opening ceremonies took place, when Alleyn entertained the company, including Lord Chan- cellor Bacon, at a banquet. Greatly to the advantage of the new foundation, Alleyn managed the affairs of the College personally. At this time he appears as the patron of Dekker, Taylor the water-poet, and other writers ; although he had now become a person of consequence, the friend of bishops and nobles, he still kept up his connection with his old profession and his old friends. In 1623 he married (for the second time) a daughter of Dr. Donne, the Dean of St. Paul's, and died in 1626, leaving so far as is known no children. BALLAD OF FAUSTUS. 425 Alleyn was evidently a man of great shrewdness and business capacity, and seems to have possessed at the same time a very fine and lovable nature. There can be no question concerning his high rank as an actor. Ben Jonson, in an epigram addressed to "Edward Allen," refers to " Skilful Roscius and grave /Esope, Who both these graces in thyself hast more Out-stript, than they did all that went before : And present worth in all dost so contract, As others speak, but only thou dost act." Fuller records the general opinion concerning Alleyn in these words : " He was the Roscius of our age, so acting to the life that he made any part (especially a majestic one) to become him." He appears to have had no relations with Shakespeare, and we do not find him acting in any of Shakespeare's plays. The full-length portrait at Dulwich, reproduced as a frontispiece to this volume, indicates the majestic presence, to which Fuller alludes, of the impersonator of Tamburlaine. BALLAD OF FAUSTUS. THE JUDGMENT OF GOD SHOWED UPON ONE JOHN FAUSTUS, DOCTOR IN DIVINITY. FROM THE ROXBURGHE COLLECTION, VOL. II. 235. Brit. Mus. Tune of Fortune my Foe. All Christian men, give ear a while to me, How I am plung'd in pain, but cannot die : I liv'd a life the like did none before, Forsaking Christ, and I am damn'd therefore. At Wittenburge, a town in Germany, There was I born and bred of good degree ; 426 APPENDIX. Of honest stock, which afterwards I sham'd ; Accurst therefore, for Faustus was I nam'd. In learning, loe, my uncle brought up me, And made me Doctor In Divinity ; And, when he dy'd, he left me all his wealth, Whose cursed gold did hinder my soul's health. Then did I shun the holy Bible-book, Nor on Gods word would ever after look ; But studied accursed conjuration, Which was the cause of my utter damnation. The devil in fryars weeds appear'd to me, And streight to my request he did agree, That I might have all things at my desire : . I gave him soul and body for his hire. Twice did I make my tender flesh to bleed, Twice with my blood I wrote the devils deed, Twice wretchedly I soul and body sold, To live in peace and do what things I would. For four and twenty years this bond was made, And at the length my soul was truly paid ! Time ran away, and yet I never thought How dear my soul our Saviour Christ had bought. Would I at first been made a beast by kind ! Then had not I so vainly set my mind ; Or would, when reason first began to bloom, Some darksome den had been my deadly tomb ! Woe to the day of my nativity ! Woe to the time that once did foster me ! And woe unto the hand that seal'd the bill ! Woe to myself, the cause of all my ill ! The time I passed away, with much -delight, 'Mongst princes, peers, and many a worthy knight I wrought such wonders by my magick skill, That all the world may talk of Faustus still. BALLAD OF FAUSTUS. 427 The devil he carried me up into the sky, Where I did see how all the world did lie ; I went about the world in eight daies space, And then return'd unto my native place. What pleasure I did wish to please my mind He did perform, as bond and seal did bind ; The secrets of the stars and planets told, Of earth and sea, with wonders manifold. When four and twenty years was almost run, I thought of all things that was past and done ; How that the devil would soon claim his right, And carry me to everlasting night. Then all too late I curst my wicked deed, The dread whereof doth make my heart to bleed All daies and hours I mourned wondrous sore, Repenting me of all things done before. I then did wish both sun and moon to stay, All times and seasons never to decay ; Then had my time nere come to dated end, Nor soul and body down to.hell descend. At last, when I had but one hour to come, I turn'd my glass, for my last hour to run, And call'd in learned men to comfort me ; But faith was gone, and none could comfort me. By twelve a clock my glass was almost out : My grieved conscience then began to doubt ; 1 wisht the students stay in chamber by ; But, as they staid, they heard a dreadful cry. Then presently they came into the hall, Whereas my brains was cast against the wall ; Both arms and legs in pieces torn they see, My bowels gone : this was an end of me. You conjurers and damned witches all, Example take by my unhappy fall : 428 APPENDIX. Give not your souls and bodies unto hell, See that the smallest hair you do not sell. But hope that Christ his kingdom you may gain, Where you shall never fear such mortal pain ; Forsake the devil and all his crafty ways, Embrace true faith that never more decays. A NOTE CONTAYNINGE THE OPINION OF ONE CHRISTOFER MAR- LYE, CONCERNYNGE HIS DAMNABLE OPINIONS AND JUDGMENT OF RELYGION AND SCORNE OF GODS WORDE. 1 FROM MS. HARL. 6853, FOL. 320. THAT the Indians and many Authors of Antiquitei have assuredly written of aboue 16 thowsande yeers agone, wher Adam is proved to have leyved within 6 thowsande yeers. He affirmeth" That Moyses.was but a Juggler, and that one Heriots can do more then hee. That Moyses made the Jewes to travell fortie yeers in the wildernes (which iorny might have ben don in lesse then one yeer) er they came to the promised lande, to the intente that those who were privei to most of his subtileteis might perish, and so an everlastinge supersticion remayne in the hartes of the people. That the firstc beginnynge of Religion was only to keep men in awe. That it was an easye matter for Moyses, beinge brought 1 The original title has been partly scored through with a pen, and altered as follows : A Note delivered on \ Vhitson eve last of the most horreble blasphemes utteryd by Christofer Marly who within Hi dayes after came to a soden and fearfull end of his life, ^ The words printed in italics have been scored through in the MS. NOTE OF CHRISTOFER MARLYE'S OPINION. 429 up in all the artes of the Egiptians, to abvse the Jewes, being a rvde and grosse people. That Christ was and his mother That he was the sonne of a carpenter, and that, yf the Jewes amonge whome he was borne did crvcifye him, thei best knew him and whence he came. That Christ deserved better to dye than Barrabas, and that the Jewes made a good choyce, though Barrabas were both a theife and a murtherer. That yf ther be any God or good Religion, then it is in the Papistes, becavse the service of God is performed with more ceremonyes, as elevacion of the masse, organs, singinge men, shaven crownes, c. That all protestantes ar hipo- criticall Asses. That, yf he wer put to write a new religion, he wolde vndertake both a more excellent and more admirable methode, and that all the new testament is filthely written. That the Women of Samaria wer and that Christ That St. John the Evangelist was , that he leaned alwayes in his bosom, that That all thei that love not tobacco nd are fooles. That all the Appostells wer fishermen and base fellowes, neither of witt nor worth, that Pawle only had witt, that he was a timerous fellow in biddinge men to be subiect to magistrates against his conscience. That he had as good right to coyne as the Queen of Englande, and that he was acquainted -with one Poole, a prisoner in newgate, whoe hath great skill in mixture of metalls, and havinge learned such thinges of htm, he ment, through help of a cvnnynge stampe-maker, to coyne french crow?tes, pistolettes, and englishe shillinges. That, yf Christ had instituted the Sacramentes with more cerymonyall reverence, it would have ben had in more admiracion, that it wolde have ben much better beinge administred 430 APPENDIX, That the Angell Gabriell was to the holy Ghoste, because he brought the salutation to Marie. That one Richard Cholmelei 1 hath confessed that he was perswaded by Marloes reason, to become an Athieste. Theis thinges, with many other, shall by good and honest men be proved to be his opinions and common speeches, and that this Marloe doth not only holde them himself, but almost in every company he commeth, perswadeth men to Athiesme ivillinge them not to be afrayed of bugbeares and hobgoblins and vtterly scornynge both God and his ministers, as I Richard Borne [sic] will justify bothe by my othe and the testimony of many honest men, and almost all men witi. whome he hath conversed any tyme will testefy the same . and, as I thincke, all men in christianitei ought to endevor that the mouth of so dangerous a member -"lay be stopped. He sayeth moreover that he hath coated a number of con- trarieties out of the scriptures, which he hath geeven to some great men, who in convenient tyme shalbe named. When theis thinges shalbe called in question, the witnesses shalbe produced. RYCHARD BAME. 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All extraordinary invention is therefore banished from it. One no longer encounters in its pages children marked at their birth, then lost, to be found again in the last chapter; nor secret drawers containing documents which come to light at the right moment for the purpose of saving persecuted innocence. "The whole of ' Madame Bovary,' even in its slightest incidents, possesses a heartrending interest a new interest, unknown prior to the appearance of this book the interest of reality, of the drama of daily life. It grips your very vitals with an invincible power, like some scene 3 - ou have witnessed, some event which is actually happening before your eyes. The personages of the story are among your acquaintances, you have assisted at their proceedings twenty times over. You are in your own sphere in this work, and all that transpires is even dependent upon your surroundings. It is this which causes such profound emotion." BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE ON "MADAME BOVARY." " Flaubert wrote his great masterpiece 'Madame Bovary' deliberately in his maturity; and the notoriety which carried him with it into the law-courts, made him a martyr in a society that was by no means fastidious. Seldom before has an author concentrated such care and thought on a single work. Each separate chapter is wrought out with an exactness of elaboration to which the painting of the Dutch school is sketchy and superflci.il." VIZ 'E TELLY & CO.'S NEW BOOKS &- NEW EDITIONS. 3 NEW REALISTIC NOVELS continued. In crown 8vo, with Ornamental Initials and Vignettes, and a Portrait of the Author, Etched by BocouRT/rom a drawing by FLAUBERT'S niece. Price 6s. SALAMBO. BY GUSTAVE FLAUBERT. TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH "EDITION DEFINITIVE " BY J. S. CHARTRES, AND PREFACED BY AN EsSAY ON FLAUBEKT's WORKS. Press Opinions on Mr. J. S. Chartres's Translation of" Salambo." " Some little while ago there was published an extraordinary bad translation of Flaubert's ' Salambo ' [by M. French Sheldon]. By some means (there are so many of these means) it wa* puffed as even in our time few if any books so bad have been puffed. Xames of all sorts and conditions of men ('the highest authorities in the land,' said the advertisement) were pressed into its service. And hand in hand with the puffing went some dark warnings against other possible translations, which would inevitably be spurious, infamous, and I know not what else. The reason of this warning is now clear. Another tranlsation has appeared, done by Mr. J. S. Chartres, and published by Vizetelly, which is much superior to its predecessor." The World. " We are able to declare that this second translation, the work of Mr. Chartres, and published by Messrs. Vizetelly, is very much the better of the two." Saturday Review. In crown 8vo, with Etchings by MULLER, from designs by JEANNIOT. Price 6s. GERMINIE LACERTEUX. By EDMOND AND JULES DE GONCOUET. [/ April. " ' GERMIXIE LACERTEUX ' fixes a date in our contemporary literature. For the first time the lower classes are studied by writers who are masters of observation and style. And I repeat it is not a question of a more or less interesting story, but of a complete lesson of moral and physical anatomy. The novelist throws a woman on to the slab of the amphitheatre, the first woman that comes to his hand, the servant girl crossing the street with her apron on ; he patiently dissects her, shows each muscle, gives full play to the nerves, seeks for causes and relates results ; and this suffices to uncover a whole bleeding corner of humanity. The reader feels the sobs rising in his throat, and it happens that this dissection becomes a heartrending spectacle, full of the highest morality.' 1 EMILE ZOLA. TWELFTH .THOUSAND. With 32 highly finished page Engravings, cloth gilt, price 3s. 6d. SAPPHO : Parisian Manners. BY ALPHONSE DAUDET. UNABRIDGED TRANSLATION FROM THE lOOrn FRENCH EDITION. "The book may, without exaggeration, be described as a glowing picture of Parisian life, with all its diversity of characters, with its Bohemian and half- world circles that are to be found nowhere else ; with all its special immorality, in short, but also with the touch of poetry that saves it from utter corruption, and with the keen artistic sense that preserves its votaries from absolute degradation." Dail %* VIZETELLY < k with an original and inarenious idea. . . . Well fitted to amuse the leisure of L-n itnd women of the world." Miinihtu 1'nxt. ' The tale is admirably toid." ,S7. Stc^ln-n'.-, Review. In crown Svo, price 5s. IN THE CHANGE OF YEARS. BY FELISE -LOVELACE. " The author is but too true to human nature, as Thackeray and other great artists have been before her.' Af'i-ili'.n:/. ' 6 VIZETELLY & CO:S NEW BOOKS 6- NEW EDITIONS. THE NOVELS OF FEDOR DOSTOIEFFSKY. TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL EUSSIAN. Third Edition. In crown 8ro, 450 pages, price 6s. CRIME AND PUNISHMENT. A EUSSIAN REALISTIC NOVEL. BY FEDOR DOSTOIEFFSKY. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. The Athenaeum. " Outside Russia the name of Fedor Dostoievsky was till lately almost unknown. Yet Dostoieffsky is one of the most remarkable of modern writers, and his book, ' CRIME AND PUNISHMENT,' is one of the most moving of modern novels. It is the story of a murder and of the punishment which dogs the murderer ; and its effect is unique in fiction. It is realism, but such realism as M. Zola and his followers do not dream of. The reader knows the personages strange, grotesque, terrible personages they are more intimately than if he had been years with them in the flesh. He is con- strained to live their lives, to suffer their tortures, to scheme and resist with them, exult with them, weep and laugh and despair with them ; he breathes the very breath of their nostrils, and with the madness that comes upon them he is afflicted even as they. This sounds extravagant praise, no doubt ; but only to those who have not read the volume. To those who have, we are sure that it will appear rather under the mark than otherwise." Pall Mall Gazette. " The figures in the grand, gloomy picture are a handful of men and women taken haphazard from the crowd of the Russian capital. They are nearly all poor. The central figure in the novel is one of those impecunious 'students,' the outcomes of whose turbulent brains-have often been a curse where they were intended to be a blessing to their country. Sonia is a figure of tragic pathos A strange fascination attracts Raskolnikoff to seek her out in her own lodgings, a bare little room in an obscure street of St. Petersburg ; and there, in the haunt of impurity and sin, the harlot and the assassin meet together to read the story of Lazarus and Dives. In that same den Rodia confesses his crime, and, in anguish almost too deep for words, the outcast girl implores the criminal, for God's sake, to make atonement." The Spectator. " In our opinion Dostoieffsky's finest work is ' CRIME AND PUNISHMENT.' Though never Zolaesque, Dostoieffsky is intensely realistic, calls a spade a spade with the most uncompromising frankness. He describes sin in its most hideous shapes ; yet he is full of tenderness and loving-kindness for its victims, and shows us that even the most abandoned are not entirely bad, and that for all there is hopehope of redemption and regeneration. Dostoieffsky sounded the lowest depths of human nature, and wrote with the power of a master. None but a Russian and a genius could draw such a character as Rodia Raskolnikoff, who has been aptly named the ' Hamlet of the Madhouse.'" The World. "The publisher has done good work in publishing ' CRIME AND PUNISHMENT,' a translation of Dostoi- effsky's much-praised novel a little over-praised, perhaps, but a strong thing, beyond all question." Westminster Review. " 'CRIME AND PUNISHMENT" is powerful, and not without a certain weird fascination." Second Edition, in crown Svo, with Portrait and Memoir, price os. INJURY AND INSULT. By FEDOR DOSTOIEFFSKY. TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL RUSSIAN BY F. WHISHAW. " That ' Injury and Insult' is a powerful novel few will deny. Yania is a marvellous character. Once read, the book can never be forgotten." St. Stephen's Review. " A masterpiece of fiction. The author has treated with consummate tact the difficult character of Natasha 'the incarnation and the slave of passion.' She lives and breathes in these vivid pages, and the reader is drawn into the vortex of her anguish, and rejoices when she breaks free from her chain." Morning Post. VIZETELLY &* CO.'S NEW BOOKS 6- NEW EDITIONS.. 7 In crown Svo, price. 5s. THE FRIEND OF THE FAMILY, & THE GAMBLER. TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL RUSSIAN BY F. WHISHAW. " There are three Russian novelists who, though, with oneexception, little known out of their own country, stand head and shoulders above most of their contemporaries. In the opinion of some not indifferent critics, they are superior to all other novelists of this generation. Two of them, Dostoieffsky and Turgenieff, died not long ago, the third, Lyof Tolstoi, still lives. The one with the most marked individuality of character, probably the most highly gifted, was unquestionably Dostoiefl'sky. " Spectator. To be followed by THE IDIOT. THE BROTHERS KARAMASOFF. UNCLE'S DREAM, & THE PERMANENT HUSBAND. THE NOVELS OF COUNT LYOF TOLSTOI. COUNT TOLSTOI'S MASTERPIECE. Seco'iul Edition. In One Volume, Svo, 780 pages, 7s. 6d. ANNA KARENINA: A Russiim Realistic Novel. By COUNT LYOF TOLSTOI. " To say that the book is fascinating would be but poor praise. It is a drama of life, of which every page is palpitating with intense and real life, and its grand lesson, ' Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,' is ever present." Pall Mall Gazette. " It has not only the very hue of life, but its movement, its advances, its strange pauses, its seeming reversions to former conditions, and its perpetual change, its apparent solations, its essential solidarity. It is a world, and you live in it while you read, and long afterwards." Harper's Monthly. COUNT TOLSTOI'S GREAT REALISTIC NOVEL. Second Edition. In Three Vols., 5s. each. WAR AND PEACE. By COUNT LYOF TOLSTOI. 1. BEFORE TILSIT. 2. THE INVASION. 3. THE FRENCH AT MOSCOW. " Incomparably Count Tolstoi's greatest work is ' War and Peace." " Saturday Review. " Count Tolstoi's magnificent novel." At?ien NEW EDITIONS, n MR. E. C. GRENVILLE-MURRAY'S WORKS. Third and Cheaper Edition, in post 8vo, 434 pp., with numerous Page and other Engravings, handsomely bound, price 5s. IMPRISONED IN A SPANISH CONVENT: AN ENGLISH GIRL'S EXPERIENCES. " Intensely fascinating. The expose is a remarkable one, and as readable as remarkable." Society " Excellent specimens of their author in his best and brightest m^od.'" Athenceum. " Highly dramatic." Scotsman. '' Strikingly interesting." Literary World. " Instead of the meek cooing dove with naked feet and a dusty face who had talked of dying for me, I had now a bright-eyed rosy-cheeked companion who had cambric pocket-handkerchiefs with violet scent on them and smoked cigarettes on the sly." Page 75. New and Cheaper Edition, Two Vols. large post 8vo, attractively bound, price 15s. UNDER THE LENS: SOCIAL PHOTOGRAPHS. ILLUSTRATED WITH ABOUT 300 ENGRAVINGS BY WELL-KNOWN ARTISTS. CONTENTS: JILTS ADVESTURERS AND ADVENTURESSES - HONOURABLE GENTLEMEN (M.P.s)-PUBLIC SCHOOLBOYS AND UNDERGRADUATES-SPENDTHRIFTS SOME WOMEN I HAVE KNOWN ROUGHS OF HIGH AND LOW DEGREE. " Brilliant, highly-coloured sketches. . . . containing beyond doubt some of the best writing that has come from Mr. Grenville-Murray's pen." St. Jamet'* Gazette. " Limned audaciously, unsparingly, and with much ability." World. " Distinguished by their pitiless fidelity to nature." Society. AT THE ETOX AND JlAiiuow CuicKET MATCH : from "UNDER THE LENS." VIZETELLY 6- CO.'S NEW BOOKS & NEW EDITIONS. 13 MR. E. C. GRENVILLE-MURRAY'S WORKS-continued. Seventh Edition, in post Svo, handsomely bound, price 7s. 6d. SIDE-LIGHTS ON ENGLISH SOCIETY: Sketches from Etft, Social antJ Satirical. ILLUSTRATED WITH NEARLY 300 CHARACTERISTIC ENGRAVINGS. CONTENTS : FLIRTS. ON HER BRITANNIC MAJESTY'S SERVICE. SEMI- DETACHED WIVES. NOBLE LORDS. YOUNG WIDOWS. OUR SILVERED YOUTH, OR NOBLE OLD BOYS. " This is a startling book. The volume is expensively and elaborately got up ; the writing is bitter, unsparing, and extremely clever." Vanity Fair. "Mr. Grenville-Murray sparkles very steadily throughout the present volume, and puts to excellent use his incomparable knowledge of life and manners, of men and cities, of appearances and facts. Of his several descants upon English types, I shall only remark that they are brilliantly and dashingly written, curious as to their matter, and admirably readable." Truth. "No one can question the brilliancy of the sketches, nor affirm that ' Side- Lights ' is aught but a fascinating book The book is destined to make a great noise in the world." Whitehall Review. Third Edition, with Frontispiece and Vignette, price 2s. 6d. HIGH LIFE IN FRANCE UNDER THE REPUBLIC : SOCIAL AND SATIRICAL SKETCHES IN PARIS AND THE PROVINCES. " Take this book as it stands, with the limitations imposed upon its author by circumstances, and it will be found very enjoyable The volume is studded with shrewd observations on French life at the present dny." Spectator. " A very clever and entertaining series of social and satirical sketches, almost French In their point and vivacity." Contemporary Revieio. " A most amusing book, and no less instructive if read with allowances and understanding." World. ' ' Full of the caustic humour and graphic character- painting so characteristic of Mr. Greuville- Murray'a work, and dealing trenchantly yet lightly with almost every conceivable phase of social, political, official, journalistic and theatrical life." Society. 14 VIZETELLY & CO.'S NEW BOOKS & NEW EDITIONS. MR. E. C. GRENVILLE-MURRAY'S WORKS continued. Second Edition, in large 8vo, tastefully bound, with gilt edges, price 10s. 6d. FORMING A HANDSOME VOLUME FOR A PRESENT. PEOPLE I HAVE MET. Illustrated with 54 tinted Page Engravings, from Designs by FRED. BARNARD. THE RICH AVTDOAV (reduced from the original engraving) author, and the result of the combination s a oo a, once aen up, can ary e a own until the last page is perused." Spectator. " All of Mr Grenville-Murray's portraits are clever and life-like, and some of them are not unworthy of a model who was more before the author's eyes than Addison namely, Thackeray." the An Edition of "PEOPLE I HAVE MET" is published in small 8vo, with Frontispiece and other page Eng-raving-s, price 2s. 6d. In post Svo, 150 engravings, cloth gilt, price 5s. JILTS AND OTHER SOCIAL PHOTOGRAPHS. Uniform with the above. SPENDTHRIFTS AND OTHER SOCIAL PHOTOGRAPHS. VIZETELLY 6- CO.'S NEW BOOKS & NEW EDITIONS. 15 MR. GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA'S WORKS. " It was like your imperence to come smouchin' round here, looking after de white folks' wathin." In One Volume, demy 8uo, 560 pages, price 12s., the, FIFTH EDITION of AMERICA REVISITED, FROM THE BAY OF NEW YORK TO THE GULF OF MEXICO, & FROM LAKE MICHIGAN TO THE PACIFIC, INCLUDING A SOJOURN AMONG THE MORMONS IN SALT LAKE CITY. ILLUSTRATED WITH NEARLY 400 ENGRAVINGS. "In 'America Revisited' Mr. Sala is seen at his very best; better even than in his Paris book, more evenly genial and gay, and with a fresher subject to handle." World. " Mr. Sala's good stories lie thick as plums in a pudding throughout this hmdsome work." Pall Mall GiKitte. 16 VIZETELLY 6- CO.'S NEW BOOKS &* NEW EDITIONS. MR. G. A. SALA'S WORKS continued. In demy 8vo, handsomely printed on 'hand-made paper, with the Illustrations on India paper mounted (only 250 copies printed), price 10s. Qd. UNDER THE SUN: ESSAYS MAINLY WRITTEN IN HOT COUNTRIES. A New Edition, containing several Additional Essays, with an Etched Portrait of the Author by BOCOUKT, and 12 full-page Engravings. " There are nearly four hundred pages between the covers of this volume, which means that they contain plenty of excellent reading." St. James's Gazette. Uniform with the above, with Frontispiece and other Page Engravings. DUTCH PICTURES, and PICTURES DONE WITH A QUILL. The Graphic remarks : " We have received a sumptuous new edition of Mr. G. A Sala's well- known 'Dutch Pictures.' It is printed on rough paper, and is enriched with many admirable illustrations." " Mr. Sala's best work has in it something of Montaigne, a great deal of Charles Lamb made deeper and broader and not a little of Lamb's model, the accomplished and quaint Sir Thomas Brown. These ' Dutch Pictures ' and ' Pictures Done with a Quill ' should be placed alongside Uhver Wendell Holmes's inimitable budgets of friendly gossip and Thackeray's 'Roundabout Papers. They display to perfection the quick eye, good taste, and ready hand of the born essayist they are never tiresome." Daily Telegraph. UNDER THE SUN, and DUTCH PICTURES AND PICTURES DONE WITH A QUILL are also published in crown 8vo, price 2s. 6d. each. Third and Cheaper Edition, in demy 8vo, cloth gilt, price 6s. A JOURNEY DUE SOUTH; TRAVELS IN SEARCH OF SUNSHINE, INCLUDING MARSEILLES, NICE, BASTIA, AJACCIO, GENOA, PISA, BOLOGNA, VENICE, ROME, NAPLES, POMPEII, &c. ILLUSTRATED WITH 16 FULL-PAGE ENGRAVINGS BY VARIOUS ARTISTS. " In ' A Journey due South ' Mr. Sala is in his brightest and cheeriest mood, ready with quip and jest and anecdote, brimful of allusion ever happy and pat." Saturday Review. Eighth Edition, in crown 8vo, 558 pages, attractively lound, price 2s. 6r7., or gilt at the side and with gilt edges, 3s. PARIS HERSELF AGAIN. BY GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA. WITH 350 CHARACTERISTIC ILLUSTRATIONS BY FRENCH ARTISTS. "On subjects like those in his present work, Mr. Sala is at his best." The Times. "This book is one of the most readable that has appeared for many a day. Few Englishmen know so much of old and modern Paris as Mr. Sala." Truth. "'Paris Herself Again' is infinitely more amusing than most novels. There is no style so chatty and so unwearying as that of which Mr. Sala is a master." The World. A BUCK OF THE REGENCY: jrom "DUTCH PICTURES." Mr. Sala's best work has in it something of Montaigne, a great deal of Charles Lamb made b's model, the accomplished and quaint Sir Thomas deeper and broader and not a little of Lamb's Brown. These ' Dutch Pictures ' and ' Pictures Done With a Quill ' should be placed alongside ' ~ mndabout . . _ . . the born ily Telegraph. Oliver Wendell Holmes's inimitable budgets of friendly gossip and Thackeray's ' Round Papers.' They display to perfection the quick eye, good taste, and ready hand of the essayist they are never tiresome." faily Telegraph. i8 VIZETELLY &- CO.'S NEW BOOKS 6- NEW EDITIONS. VIZETELLY'S ONE-VOLUME NOVELS. CUE AVER ISSUE. " The idea of publishing cheap one-volume novels is a good one, and we wish the series every success." Saturday Review. 2s. 6d. each. FIFTH EDITION. THE IRONMASTER; OR, LOVE AND PRIDE. BY GEORGES OHNET. TRANSLATED WITHOUT ABRIDGMENT FROM THE 146TH FRENCH EDITION. " This work, the greatest literary success in any language of recent times, has already yielded its author upwards of 12,000." THIRD EDITION. NUMA ROUMESTAN ; OR, JOY ABROAD AND GRIEF AT HOME. BY ALPHONSE DAUDET. TRANSLATED BY MRS. J. G. LAYARD. " ' Numa Roumestan ' is a masterpiece ; it is really a perfect work ; it has no fault, no weak- ness. It is a compact and harmonious whole. " MR. HENRY JAMES. SECOND EDITION. THE CORSARS; OR, LOVE AND LUCRE. BY JOHN HILL, AUTHOR OF " THE WATERS OF MARAH," "SALLY," &c. " It is indubitable that Mr. Hill has produced a strong and lively novel, full of story, cha- racter, situations, murder, gold-mines, exclusions, and alarms. The bcok is so rich in promise that we hope to receive some day from Mr. Hill a romance which will win every vote." katurdoy Rei'itw. The Book that made M. Ohnet's reputation, and was crowned by the French Academy. SECOND EDITION. PRINCE SERGE PANINE. BY GEORGES OHNET. AUTHOR OF "THE IRONMASTER." TRANSLATED, WITHOUT ABRIDGMENT, FROM THE 110TH FRENCH EDITION. " This excellent version is sure to meet with large success on our side of the Channel." London Fiyai-o. _ BETWEEN' MIDNIGHT AND DAWN. BY INA L. CASSILIS, AUTHOR OF "SOCIETY'S QUEEN," &c. " An ingenious plot, cleverly handled." Athenceum. "The interest begins with the first page, and is ably sustained to the conclusion." Edinburgh Courant. ROLAND; OR THE EXPIATION OF A SIN. BY ARY ECILAW. " A novel entitled 'Roland' is creating an immense sensation in Paris. The first, second, aii'l third editions were swept away in as many days. The work is charmingly written." '1 he H'orld. V1ZETELLY &> CO.'S NEW BOOKS & NEW EDITIONS. 19 VIZETELLY'S ONE-VOLUME NOVELS continued. 3s. 6d. each. NINTH EDITION, CAREFULLY REVISED, AND W1TII A SPECIAL PREFACE. A MUMMER'S WIFE. A Realistic Novel. By GEORGE MOORE, AUTHOR OF "A MODERN LOVER." " A striking book, different in tone from current English fiction. The woman's character is a very powerful study." Athencewm. "A Mummer's Wife, in virtue of its vividness of presentation and real literary skill, may be regarded as a representative example of the work of a literary school that has of late years attracted to itself a good deal of notoriety." Spectator. " ' A Mummer's Wife' holds at present a unique position among English novels. It is a conspicuous success of its kind." Graphic. THIRD EDITION. COUNTESS SARAH. BY GEORGES OHNET, AUTHOR OF "THE IRONMASTER." TRANSLATED, WITHOUT ABRIDGMENT, FROM THE llSm FRENCH EDITION. " The book contains some very powerful situations and first-rate character studies." Whitehall Review. " To an interesting plot is added a number of strongly-marked and cleverly drawn characters. "- Society. THIRD EDITION. MR. BUTLER'S WARD. BY MABEL ROBINSON. " A charming book, poetically conceived, and worked out with tenderness and insight." Athenaeum. " The heroine is a very happy conception, a beautiful creation whose affecting history is- treated with much delicacy, sympathy, and command of all that is touching." Illustrated New*. " All the characters are new to fiction, and the author is to be congratulated on having made so full and original a haul out of the supposed to be exhausted waters of modern society '* Graphic. THE THREATENING EYE. BY E. F. KNIGHT, AUTHOR OF "A CRUISE IN THE FALCON." " There is a good deal of power about this romance." Graphic. " Full of extraordinary power and originality. The story is one of quite exceptional force and impress! veness." Manchester Examiner. THE FORKED TONGUE. BY R. LANGSTAFF DE HAVILLAND, M.A., AUTHOR OF "ENSLAVED," &c. " In many respects the story is a remarkable one. Its men and women are drawn with power and without pity; their follies and their vices are painted in unmistakable colours, and with a skill that fascinates." Society. THIRD EDITION. A MODERN LOVER. BY GEORGE MOORE, AUTHOR OF "A MUMMER'S WIFE." "Mr. Moore has a real power of dra whig character, and some of his descriptive scenes are capital." St. James's Gazette. " It would be difficult to praise too highly the strength, truth, delicacy, and pathos of the incident of Gwynnie Lloyd, and the admirable treatment of the great sacrifice she makes. The incident is depicted with skill and beauty." Spectator. C 2 ;"W;^ " Kiss me, dear," said Atheuaid. In large crown 8vo, beautifully printed on toned paper, yyrice 5s., or handsomely bound with gilt edges, suitable in every way for a present, 6s. An Illustrated Edition of M. Ohnet's Celebrated Novel. THE IRONMASTER; OR, LOVE AND PRIDE. CONTAINING 42 FULL-PAGE ENGRAVINGS BY FRENCH ARTISTS, PRINTED SEPARATE FROM THE TEXT. VIZETELLY fr CO.'S NEW BOOKS & NEW EDITIONS. 21 VIZETELLY'S ONE VOLUME UOVELS-conlinued. 3s. 6d. each. PRINCE ZILAH. BY JULES CLARETIE. Translated from the 5Tth French edition. " M. Jules Claretie has of late taken a conspicuous place as a novelist in France." Times. THE TRIALS OF JETTA MALAUBRET. (NOIRS ET ROUGES.) BY VICTOR CHERBULIEZ, OF THE FRENCH ACADEMY. TRANSLATED BY THE COUNTESS G. DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD " ' Jetta Maliiubret ' deals with the experiences of a young girl who is taken from a convent and deliberately pliuued into a sort of society calculated to teach her the utmost possible amount of worldly wisdom to say nothing of worse things in the shortest possible time. The char- acterization and dialogue are full of piquancy and cleverness." Society. In post 8vo, with numerous Page and other Engravings, cloth gilt, price 2s. Qd. , NO ROSE WITHOUT A THORN, AND OTHER TALES. By F. C. BURNAND, H. SAVILE CLARKE, R. E. FRANCILLON, &c. " By the aid of the chimney with the register up Mrs. Lupscomtw's curiosity war, to ertain extent, gratified." Page 19. In post Svo, with numerous Page and other Engravings, cloth gilt, price 3s. Qd. THE DOVE'S NEST, AND OTHER TALES. Bj JOSEPH HATTON, RICHARD JEFFERIES, H. SAVILE CLARKE, &c. 22 VIZETELLY & CO'S NEW BOOKS 6- NEW EDITIONS. ZOLA'S POWERFUL REALISTIC NOVELS. TRANSLATED WITHOUT ABRIDGMENT. ILLUSTRATED WITH PAGE ENGRAVINGS BY FRENCH ARTISTS. In crmvn 8ro, price 6s. each. Mr. HENRY JAMES on ZOLA'S NOVELS. " A novelist with a system, a passin;it Conviction, a great plan incontestable attributes of M. Zola is not now to be eas ly found in Kngland or the United States, where the stovy-teller's art is almost exclusively leminine, is mainly in the hands of timid (even when very accomplished) women, whose acquaintance with lite is severely restricted, aud who are not conspicuous for general views. The novel, moreover, among ourselves, is almost always addressed to young unmarried ladies, or at least al ways assumes them to be a large part of the novelist's public. "This fact, to a French story-teller, appears, of course, a damnable restriction, and M. Zola would probably decline to take au strieux any work produced under such unnatural conditions. Half of life is a sealed book to younv unmarried ladies, and how can a novel be worth anything that deals only with half of life? These objections are pwrfectly valid, and it maybe said that our English system is a good thine for virttins and boys, and a bad thing for the novel itself, when the novel is regarded as something more than a simple jeu c/e*prit,and considered as a composition that treats of life at large and helps us to hmw." NAN A. From the \21th French Edition. THE "ASSOMMOIR." n. From the 97th French Edition. PIPING HOT! (POT-BOU.U.E.) From the 63rd French Edition. GERMINAL; OR, MASTER AND MAN. From the 47th French Edition. THE RUSH FOR THE SPOIL. LA CUR EE.) From the 31th French Edition. THE LADIES' PARADISE. (Theseq TO itopmHoH OT r) From the 5Qlh French Edition. ABBE MOURET'S TRANSGRESSION. From the 31st French Edition. THERESE RAQUIN. The above Works are published without Illustrations, price 5s. each. HIS MASTERPIECE? -L-C=UVRE. With a Portrait of M. E.MILE ZOLA, Etched by BOCOURT. VIZETELLY . &f CO.'S NEW BOOKS & NEW EDITIONS. 23 ZOLA'S REALISTIC NOVELS continued. THE FORTUNE OF THE ROUGONS. From the 24th French Edition. HOW JOLLY LIFE IS! From the 44 :' ~^j-. 'H ?&& $&* . '-ic>- -^..T^-^n^^r-i- TA" - ^ . RU _"= , _w \ Se4&T. >* MR. HENRY VIZETELLY'S POPULAR BOOKS ON WINE. " Mr. Vizetelly discourses brightly and discriminatingly on crns and bouquets and the different European vineyards, most ot' which he bos evidently visited." The Times. "Mr. Henry Vizetelly 's books about different wines have an importance and a value far greater than will be assigned them by those who look merely at the price at which they are published." Sunday Times. Price Is. 6d. ornamental cover ; or '2s. Qd. in elegant cloth binding. FACTS ABOUT PORT AND MADEIRA, GLEANED DURING A TOUR IN THE AUTUMN OF 1S77. BY HENRY VIZETELLY, WINE JUROR FOR GKKAT BRITAIN AT THE VIENNA AND PARIS EXHIBITIONS OF 1873 AND 1878. With 100 Illustrations from Original Sketches and Photographs. BY THE SAME AUTHOR. Price Is, 6d. ornamental cover ; or 2s. 6d. in elegant cloth binding. FACTS ABOUT CHAMPAGNE, AND OTHER SPARKLING WINES. COLLECTED DFRINO NrMF.Rors VISITS TO THE CHAMPAGNE AND OTHER VITICULTURAL DISTRICTS OF FRANCE AND THE PRINCIPAL REMAINING WINE-PKODUCINO COUNTRIES OF EUROPE. Illustrated with 112 Engravings from Sketches and Photographs. Price Is. ornamental cover ; or Is. tid. cloth gilt. 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