William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (373 page)
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Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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FALKNER ’Sblood, I broached none. It was broached and half run out before I had a lick at it.
SHERIFF And would be brought before no justice but your honour.
FALKNER ! I am hauled, my noble lord.
MORE ⌈
to Sheriff
⌉
to Sheriff
⌉
No ear to choose for every trivial noise
But mine, and in so full a time? Away.
You wrong me, Master Sheriff. Dispose of him
At your own pleasure. Send the knave to Newgate.
But mine, and in so full a time? Away.
You wrong me, Master Sheriff. Dispose of him
At your own pleasure. Send the knave to Newgate.
FALKNER To Newgate? ’Sblood, Sir Thomas More, I appeal, I appeal: from Newgate to any of the two worshipful Counters.
MORE
Fellow, whose man are you that are thus lusty?
FALKNER My name’s Jack Falkner. I serve, next under God and my prince, Master Morris, secretary to my lord of Winchester.
MORE
A fellow of your hair is very fit
To be a secretary’s follower!
To be a secretary’s follower!
FALKNER I hope so, my lord. The fray was between the Bishop’s men of Ely and Winchester, and I could not in honour but part them. I thought it stood not with my reputation and degree to come to my questions and answers before a city justice. I knew I should to the pot.
MORE Thou hast been there, it seems, too late already.
FALKNER I know your honour is wise, and so forth, and I desire to be only catechized or examined by you, my noble Lord Chancellor.
MORE Sirrah, sirrah, you are a busy dangerous ruffian. FALKNER Ruffian?
MORE How long have you worn this hair?
FALKNER I have worn this hair ever since I was born.
MORE
You know that’s not my question: but how long
Hath this shag fleece hung dangling on thy head?
Hath this shag fleece hung dangling on thy head?
FALKNER How long, my lord? Why, sometimes thus long, sometimes lower, as the Fates and humours please.
MORE
So quick, sir, with me, ha? I see, good fellow,
Thou lovest plain dealing. Sirrah, tell me now
When were you last at barber’s? How long time
Have you upon your head worn this shag hair?
Thou lovest plain dealing. Sirrah, tell me now
When were you last at barber’s? How long time
Have you upon your head worn this shag hair?
FALKNER My lord, Jack Falkner tells no Aesop’s fables. Troth, I was not at barber’s this three years. I have not been cut, nor will not be cut, upon a foolish vow which, as the Destinies shall direct, I am sworn to keep.
MORE When comes that vow out?
FALKNER Why, when the humours are purged; not these three years.
MORE
Vows are recorded in the court of heaven,
For they are holy acts. Young man, I charge thee
And do advise thee start not from that vow.
And for I will be sure thou shalt not shear,
Besides because it is an odious sight
To see a man thus hairy, thou shalt lie
In Newgate till thy vow and thy three years
Be full expired.—Away with him.
For they are holy acts. Young man, I charge thee
And do advise thee start not from that vow.
And for I will be sure thou shalt not shear,
Besides because it is an odious sight
To see a man thus hairy, thou shalt lie
In Newgate till thy vow and thy three years
Be full expired.—Away with him.
FALKNER My lord—
MORE
Cut off this fleece and lie there but a month.
FALKNER I’ll not lose a hair to be Lord Chancellor of Europe.
MORE
To Newgate then. Sirrah, great sins are bred
In all that body where there’s a foul head.
Away with him.
Exeunt
⌈
all but Randall
⌉
In all that body where there’s a foul head.
Away with him.
Exeunt
⌈
all but Randall
⌉
Enter Surrey, Erasmus, and attendants
SURREY
Now, great Erasmus, you approach the presence
Of a most worthy learned gentleman.
This little isle holds not a truer friend
Unto the arts; nor doth his greatness add
A feigned flourish to his worthy parts.
He’s great in study: that’s the statist’s grace
That gains more reverence than the outward place.
Of a most worthy learned gentleman.
This little isle holds not a truer friend
Unto the arts; nor doth his greatness add
A feigned flourish to his worthy parts.
He’s great in study: that’s the statist’s grace
That gains more reverence than the outward place.
ERASMUS
Report, my lord, hath crossed the narrow seas,
And to the several parts of Christendom
Hath borne the fame of your Lord Chancellor.
I long to see him whom with loving thoughts
I in my study oft have visited.
Is that Sir Thomas More?
And to the several parts of Christendom
Hath borne the fame of your Lord Chancellor.
I long to see him whom with loving thoughts
I in my study oft have visited.
Is that Sir Thomas More?
SURREY
It is, Erasmus.
Now shall you view the honourablest scholar,
The most religious politician,
The worthiest counsellor, that tends our state.
That study is the general watch of England.
In it, the Prince’s safety and the peace
That shines upon our commonwealth are forged
By loyal industry.
The most religious politician,
The worthiest counsellor, that tends our state.
That study is the general watch of England.
In it, the Prince’s safety and the peace
That shines upon our commonwealth are forged
By loyal industry.
ERASMUS
I doubt him not
To be as near the life of excellence
As you proclaim him, when his meanest servants
Are of some weight. You saw, my lord, his porter
Give entertainment to us at the gate
In Latin good phrase. What’s the master, then,
When such good parts shine in his meanest men?
As you proclaim him, when his meanest servants
Are of some weight. You saw, my lord, his porter
Give entertainment to us at the gate
In Latin good phrase. What’s the master, then,
When such good parts shine in his meanest men?
SURREY
His lordship hath some weighty business,
For, see, as yet he takes no notice of us.
For, see, as yet he takes no notice of us.
ERASMUS
I think ’twere best I did my duty to him
In a short Latin speech.
In a short Latin speech.
⌈
He takes off his hat and addresses Randall
⌉
Qui in celeberrima patria natus est et gloriosa plus habet
negotii ut in lucem veniat quam qui
—
negotii ut in lucem veniat quam qui
—
RANDALL I prithee, good Erasmus, be covered. I have forsworn speaking of Latin else, as I am true councillor, I’d tickle you with a speech. Nay, sit, Erasmus. Sit, good my lord of Surrey. I’ll make my lady come to you anon, if she will, and give you entertainment.
ERASMUS
Is this Sir Thomas More?
SURREY
O good Erasmus,
You must conceive his vein. He’s ever furnished
With these conceits.
With these conceits.
RANDALL Yes, faith, my learned poet doth not lie for that matter. I am neither more nor less than merry Sir Thomas always. Wilt’ sup with me? By God, I love a parlous wise fellow that smells of a politician better than a long progress.
Enter Sir Thomas More
Enter Sir Thomas More
SURREY
We are deluded. This is not his lordship.
RANDALL I pray you, Erasmus, how long will the Holland cheese in your country keep without maggots?
MORE
Fool, painted barbarism, retire thyself
Into thy first creation. Thus you see,
My loving learned friends, how far respect
Waits often on the ceremonious train
Of base illiterate wealth, whilst men of schools,
Shrouded in poverty, are counted fools.
Pardon, thou reverend German, I have mixed
So slight a jest to the fair entertainment
Of thy most worthy self. For know, Erasmus,
Mirth wrinkles up my face, and I still crave
When that forsakes me I may hug my grave.
Into thy first creation. Thus you see,
My loving learned friends, how far respect
Waits often on the ceremonious train
Of base illiterate wealth, whilst men of schools,
Shrouded in poverty, are counted fools.
Pardon, thou reverend German, I have mixed
So slight a jest to the fair entertainment
Of thy most worthy self. For know, Erasmus,
Mirth wrinkles up my face, and I still crave
When that forsakes me I may hug my grave.
Aut tu Erasmus aut d
i
abolus.
i
abolus.
ERASMUS
Your honour’s merry humour is best physic
Unto your able body, for we learn
Where melancholy chokes the passages
Of blood and breath, the erected spirit still
Lengthens our days with sportful exercise.
Study should be the saddest time of life;
The rest a sport exempt from thought of strife.
Unto your able body, for we learn
Where melancholy chokes the passages
Of blood and breath, the erected spirit still
Lengthens our days with sportful exercise.
Study should be the saddest time of life;
The rest a sport exempt from thought of strife.
MORE
Erasmus preacheth gospel against physic.—
My noble poet—
My noble poet—
SURREY O my lord, you tax me
In that word ‘poet’ of much idleness.
It is a study that makes poor our fate.
Poets were ever thought unfit for state.
It is a study that makes poor our fate.
Poets were ever thought unfit for state.
MORE
O, give not up fair poesy, sweet lord,
To such contempt. That I may speak my heart,
It is the sweetest heraldry of art
That sets a difference ’tween the tough, sharp holly
And tender bay tree.
To such contempt. That I may speak my heart,
It is the sweetest heraldry of art
That sets a difference ’tween the tough, sharp holly
And tender bay tree.
SURREY Yet, my lord,
It is become the very lag i’ number
To all mechanic sciences.
To all mechanic sciences.
MORE Why I’ll show the reason
This is no age for poets. They should sing
To the loud canon
heroica facta:
Qui faciunt reges heroica carmina laudant
;
And, as great subjects of their pen decay,
Even so, unphysicked, they do melt away.
To the loud canon
heroica facta:
Qui faciunt reges heroica carmina laudant
;
And, as great subjects of their pen decay,
Even so, unphysicked, they do melt away.
Enter Master Morris
Come, will your lordship in? My dear Erasmus—
I’ll hear you, Master Morris, presently.—
⌈
To Erasmus
⌉ My lord, I make you master of my house.
We’ll banquet here with fresh and staid delights.
The Muses’ music here shall cheer our spirits.
The cates must be but mean where scholars sit;
For they’re made all with courses of neat wit.
I’ll hear you, Master Morris, presently.—
⌈
To Erasmus
⌉ My lord, I make you master of my house.
We’ll banquet here with fresh and staid delights.
The Muses’ music here shall cheer our spirits.
The cates must be but mean where scholars sit;
For they’re made all with courses of neat wit.
⌈
Exeunt Surrey, Erasmus, and attendants
⌉
Exeunt Surrey, Erasmus, and attendants
⌉
How now, Master Morris?
MORRIS I am a suitor to your lordship in behalf of a servant of mine.
MORE
The fellow with long hair, good Master Morris?
Come to me three years hence, and then I’ll hear you.
Come to me three years hence, and then I’ll hear you.
MORRIS I understand your honour; but the foolish knave has submitted himself to the mercy of a barber, and is without, ready to make a new vow before your lordship hereafter to live civil.
MORE
Nay then, let’s talk with him; pray call him in.
Enter Falkner and Officers
FALKNER Bless your honour: a new man, my lord.
MORE Why sure this’ not he.
FALKNER An your lordship will, the barber shall give you a sample of my head. I am he, in faith, my lord, I am
ipse.
ipse.
MORE
Why, now thy face is like an honest man’s.
Thou hast played well at this new-cut and won.
Thou hast played well at this new-cut and won.
FALKNER No, my lord, lost all that ever God sent me.
MORE God sent thee into the world as thou art now, with a short hair. How quickly are three years run out in Newgatel
FALKNER I think so, my lord, for there was but a hair’s length between my going thither and so long time.
MORE
Because I see some grace in thee, go free.—
Discharge him, fellows. ⌈
Exeunt Officers
⌉
Discharge him, fellows. ⌈
Exeunt Officers
⌉
Farewell, Master Morris.
Thy head is for thy shoulders now more fit:
Thou hast less hair upon it, but more wit. ⌈
exit
⌉
Thou hast less hair upon it, but more wit. ⌈
exit
⌉
MORRIS Did not I tell thee always of these locks?
FALKNER An the locks were on again, all the goldsmiths in Cheapside should not pick them open. ’Sheart, if my hair stand not on end when I look for my face in a glass, I am a potecat.—Here’s a lousy jest.—But if I notch not that rogue Tom Barber that makes me look thus like a Brownist, hang me. I’ll be worse to the nittical knave than ten tooth-drawings. Here’s a head with a pox!
[
Addition IV
(
playhouse scribe; attributed to Dekker
)
]
Addition IV
(
playhouse scribe; attributed to Dekker
)
]
[
Addition IV
(
Dekker
)]
Addition IV
(
Dekker
)]
MORRIS What ail’st thou? Art thou mad now?
FALKNER Mad now? Nails, if loss of hair cannot mad a man—what can? I am deposed: my crown is taken from me. More had been better a’ scoured Moorditch than a’ notched me thus. Does he begin sheep-shearing with Jack Falkner?
MORRIS Nay, an you feed this vein, sir, fare you well.
FALKNER Why, farewell, frost! I’ll go hang myself out for the—poll-head. Make a Sar’cen of Jack?
MORRIS
Thou desperate knave, for that I see the devil
Wholly gets hold of thee—
Wholly gets hold of thee—
FALKNER The devil’s a damned rascal.
MORRIS
I charge thee wait on me no more; no more
Call me thy master.
Call me thy master.
FALKNER Why then, a word, Master Morris.
MORRIS I’ll hear no words, sir, fare you well.
FALKNER ’Sblood, farewelll
MORRIS Why dost thou follow me?
FALKNER Because I’m an ass. Do you set your shavers upon me, and then cast me off? Must I condole? Have the Fates played the fools? (
Weeps
) Am I their cut? Now the poor sconce is taken, must Jack march with bag and baggage?
Weeps
) Am I their cut? Now the poor sconce is taken, must Jack march with bag and baggage?
MORRIS You coxcomb!
FALKNER Nay, you ha’ poached me, you ha’ given me a hire, it’s here, here.
MORRIS
Away, you kind ass. Come, sir, dry your eyes.
Keep your old place, and mend these fooleries.
Keep your old place, and mend these fooleries.
FALKNER I care not to be turned off, an ’twere a ladder, so it be in my humour or the Fates beckon to me. Nay, pray, sir, if the Destinies spin me a fine thread, Falkner flies another pitch. And to avoid the headache, hereafter before I’ll be a hairmonger I’ll be a whoremonger.
Exeunt
[
Addition IV
(
Dekker
)
]
Addition IV
(
Dekker
)
]
[
Addition V
(
playhouse scribe
)]
Addition V
(
playhouse scribe
)]
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