Part 7

[110] The 4o reads _breast_.--_Steevens._

[111] Hands.

[112] _i.e._, unsheathe them, let them be _naked_ swords.--_Steevens._

[113] [Edits., _spread_.]

[114] The 4o reads, _Well, have the fairest mark_.--_Collier._

[115] [A MS. note in one of the former edits., suggests, _to other times leave words_].

[116] [Old copy, _possessing_.]

[117] [Old copy, _True_.]

[118] The 4o reads, _wake_.

[119] The 4o reads, _I cannot be express'd_.--_Collier._

[120] [Edits., _so_.]

[121] ["Mark this--it was his intention from the first to die when his revenge had been consummated."--_MS. note in former edition._]

[122] _Clos'd_ for _disclos'd_.--_Gilchrist._

THE DUMB KNIGHT.

_EDITIONS._

_The dumbe Knight. A historicall Comedy, acted sundry times by the children of his Maiesties Reuels. London, Printed by Nicholas Okes, for Iohn Bache, and are to be sold at his shop in Popes-head Palace, neere to the Royall Exchange._ 1608. 4o.[123]

_The Dumbe Knight. An Historicall Comedy, acted sundry times by the children of his Majesties Revells. London, Printed by A.M. for William Sheares, and are to be sold at his shoppe in Chancery Lane, near Seriants Inne._ 1633. 4o.

[MR COLLIER'S PREFACE.[124]]

Lewes Machin was assisted, as he states, in writing this play, by one "whose worth hath been often approved," and it is singular that until very recently the name of his coadjutor should have remained unknown, when in the Garrick Collection, always accessible in the British Museum, is a copy of "The Dumb Knight," edition of 1608, with the name of his "partner in the wrong" on the title-page, viz., Jervis or Gervase Markham. Another copy, with the same distinction, was sold in Mr Rhodes' collection. Why it was afterwards altered cannot now be ascertained; perhaps Markham wished to avoid the consequences of the "strange constructions" on the play to which Machin in his epistle refers, and therefore withdrew his name. Nevertheless the address of Machin "to the understanding reader" is prefixed to the copies with and without the name of his assistant.

Although Markham was a voluminous writer, little or nothing is known regarding the events of his life. A curious anecdote of a Gervase Markham is quoted by Sir E. Brydges, in his edition of Phillips's "Theatrum Poetarum," p. 279; but in all probability it is not the same individual, as that person was high sheriff of Nottinghamshire in 1625, and was robbed of £5000. Gervase Markham the poet and book-maker never could have possessed any such sum. He is said to have been the son of Robert Markham of Cotham; but this is very questionable. When and where he was born, and died, yet remains to be discovered. He began his career of authorship late in the reign of Elizabeth, viz., in 159[3, when his "Thyrsis and Daphne," a piece no longer known, was revised for the press. In the same year he produced "A Discourse of Horsemanship;" and] in 1595 he published "The Most Honourable Tragedie of Sir Richard Grinvile (Grenville), Knight." By this work he seems to have acquired much reputation.[125] Though called a _tragedy_, it is only a narrative and elegiac poem in the octave rhyme.

Ritson also assigns to Markham a translation of Solomon's Song, in the same year, but it has only the initials L.M. on the title-page. In 1597, he printed a translation from the French, called "Devoreux, Vertues Tears for the Loss of the Most Christian King Henry III." In 1608 appeared a translation of Ariosto's "Satires," with his name on the title-page, but the work was subsequently claimed by Robert Tofte. The blame belonged, perhaps, to some knavish bookseller who, having obtained the MS., availed himself of Markham's popularity. [Barnaby Rich's "Alarm to England," was reprinted in 1625 under the title of "Vox Militis," with a poem by Markham prefixed, and without any mention of the true writer.] He continued to write various works, some on agriculture and farriery, [during the reign of James I.[126]] His only other dramatic performance was a tragedy called "Herod and Antipater," which was printed in 1622, and in the composition of which he was joined by W. Sampson.

Of Lewis Machin merely the name has come down to us in connection with Markham and William Barkstead. The latter in 1607 printed "Mirrha, the Mother of Adonis," and at the end of it were placed "three Eglogs" by Lewis Machin. The first of "Menalcas and Daphnis," and the two others of "Apollo and Hyacinth." It is impossible now to ascertain what share he had in "The Dumb Knight," which appears to have been a successful play, although its merits are by no means conspicuous. It is mentioned in the following terms in Shirley's "Example," 1637, sig. A 4:--

"VAINMAN. You will give me leave to answer you, If you should ask me anything?

"JACINTHA. Not a syllable, Though I desir'd to know what o'clock 'tis; There's your obedience: at six months' end I may reward your silence.

"PUMICE-STONE. She'll make him the Dumb Knight.

"JACINTHA. I will not engage you to be a mute so long."

"The Dumb Knight" was entered on the stationers' books on the 6th October 1608, in which year it was first printed. It was reprinted in 1633, perhaps on its revival at one of the theatres, which led Shirley to allude to it in 1637. The edition of 1633 is a copy of that of 1608, with all the original errors, and the addition of some others. It sometimes happens that an obscure reading is explained or a misprint corrected in later copies, even if the mistakes generally are multiplied; but this is not the case with "The Dumb Knight." Mr Reed seems to have used the edition of 1633, and therefore included most of the errors of both of the old copies. He also introduced several conjectural alterations of his own, and in a manner not easily justified, since he gave no intimation of the liberty he had taken with the author. The play has now been carefully collated, and the more important variations pointed out in the notes.[127]

TO THE UNDERSTANDING READER.

Rumour, that Hydra-headed monster, with more tongues than eyes, by help of his intelligencer Envy, hath made strange constructions on this Dumb Knight, which then could not answer for himself; but now this publication doth untie his tongue, to answer the objections of all sharp critical censures, which here-to-fore have undeservedly passed upon him. And for my part, I protest the wrongs I have received by some (whose worths I will not traduce), with a mild neglect I have laughed at their follies; for I think myself happy, because I have been envied, since the best now in grace have been subject to some slanderous tongues that want worth themselves, and think it great praise to them to detract praise from others that deserve it; yet having a partner in the wrong, whose worth hath been often approved, I count the wrong but half a wrong, because he knows best how to answer for himself; but I now in his absence make this apology, both for him and me. Thus leaving you and the book together, I ever rest yours,

LEWIS MACHIN.

FOOTNOTES:

[123] This edition had a different title-page to some of the copies, but in all other respects they were similar: it was as follows--

"The dumbe Knight. A pleasant Comedy, acted sundry times by the children of his Maiesties Reuels. Written by Iaruis Markham." [Imprint the same as above.]--_Collier._

[124] [To the play, as printed in the last edition of Dodsley's "Old Plays."]

[125] Charles Fitzgeoffry, writing a similar poem on Sir Francis Drake, in 1596, thus mentions Markham's work--

"Well hath this poet royalis'd his facts And curiouslie describ'd his tragedie; Quaintlie he hath eternized his acts In lasting characters of memorie, Even co-eternal with eternitie: So that the world envies his happie state, That he should live when it is ruinate."

[126] A person of the name of Robert Markham wrote and printed in 1628 "A description of that ever-to-be-famed knight Sir John Burgh." Whether he was in any way related to Gervase Markham is not known.

[127] [Yet many errors and misprints remained in the former edition, of which some were readily set right, while others seem to bid defiance to a revising hand. It is not even easy, in every case, to detect where the corruption lies.]

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

MEN.

KING OF CYPRUS. PHILOCLES, _his favourite, the Dumb Knight_. DUKE OF EPIRE. ALPHONSO. FLORIO. PRATE, _an Orator [lawyer]_. MECHANT, } VELOURS, } _Clients to Prate_. DRAP, } PRECEDENT, _Clerk to Prate_. CÆLIO, _Marshal for the Queen_. CHIP _and_ SHAVINGS, _Carpenters_. _Heralds, Watchmen, Gentleman-Usher, Physician, Executioner, &c._

WOMEN.

QUEEN OF SICILY. MARIANA, _her Companion, and Sister to the Duke of Epire_. LOLLIA, _Wife to the Orator_. COLLAQUINTIDA, _a Bawd_. _Attendants, &c._

_Scene, Sicily._

THE DUMB KNIGHT.[128]

ACTUS I, SCÆNA 1.[129]

_Enter the_ KING OF CYPRUS, PHILOCLES, FLORIO, _and Attendants in arms_. [_Music._

Enough; these loud sounds deaf my passions: How long shall love make me a slave to hope, And mix my calm desires with tyranny? O Philocles! this[130] heresy I hold, Thought and affection cannot be controll'd.

PHIL. Yet may't be bent and suppled with extremes, Sith few foresee[131] the end of violence. What makes the skilful leech[132] to use the fire, Or war her engines, or states policy, But to recover things most desperate? Revolt is recreant, when pursuit is brave, Never to faint doth purchase what we crave.

CYP. True, my Philocles, yet my recreant soul, Slav'd to her beauty, would renounce all war, And yield her right to love, did not thy spirit, Mix'd with my longing, fortify these arms. But I am now resolv'd, and this sad hour Shall give an end to my distemperature. Summon a parley.

_Enter aloft the_ QUEEN OF SICILY, MARIANA,[133] _the_ DUKE OF EPIRE, ALPHONSO, _and Attendants_.

QUEEN. What says our tyrant suitor, our disease in love, That makes our thoughts a slave unto his sword: What says my lord?

CYP. Madam, attend me, this is my latest summons: The many suns my sorrows have beheld, And my sad nights of longings, all through hope T' enjoy the joy of earth (your own dear self), Are grown so infinite in length and weight, That like to wearied Atlas I enforce These wars, as Hercules, to bear my load: Briefly, I must enjoy you, or else lose The breath of life which to prevent, behold My sword must be my Cupid, and with feather'd steel Force pity from your breast. Your city's walls, Chidden with my cannons, have set ope a path, And boldly bid me enter: all your men of war, Feebled with famine and a weary siege, Take danger from mine actions: only yourself, Strong in your will, oppose even destiny, And like the giants' war offend the heavens. Which to prevent, do but descend and give Peace to my love-suit, and as o'ercome thereby I'll yield myself your prisoner, and be drawn A thrall in your triumphant victory. If otherwise, behold these fatal swords Shall ne'er be sheath'd till we be conquerors: And, not respecting innocence nor sex, The cries of infants, nor the prayers of age, All things shall perish, till within my arms I fold yourself, my thrall and conqueror.

QUEEN. Thou may'st be master of my body's tomb; But for my soul and mind they are as free As their creation, and with angel's wings Can soar beyond thy reach: trust me, King of Cyprus, Those coals the Roman Portia did devour Are not burnt out, nor have th' Egyptian worms[134] Yet lost their stings; steel holds his temper still, And these are ransoms from captivity. But art thou noble? hast thou one royal thought?

CYP. Approve me by your question.

QUEEN. Then briefly thus: To shun the great effusion of their bloods, Who feel no touch in mine affections, Dare you to single combat, two to two, Refer your right in love?

CYP. Who are your combatants? we love equality.

QUEEN. This is the first, the Epire duke, a man Sprung from the line of famous Scanderbeg. The next Alphonso, sprung from noble blood; Who, laden with rich Lusitanian prize, Hath rode through Syracuse twice in pomp.

CYP. Their likings to the motion?

EPIRE. They are like wrath, Never unarm'd to beat weak injury.

ALPH. Nay more, we are the sons of destiny: Virtue's our guide, our aim is dignity.

PHIL. 'Sfoot, king, shalt not forsake 'em: this I see, Love, fight, and death are rul'd by destiny.

CYP. My spirit speaks thy motion, Madam, although advantage might evade, And give my love more hope, yet my bent will, Bow'd to your pleasure, doth embrace your law. We do accept the combat, and ourself Will with that duke try fortunes; this my friend, The more[135] part of myself, my dearest Philocles, One of an angel's temper, shall with that lord Try best and worst. The place? the time? the sword?

EPIRE. They are your rights, we claim as challengers.

CYP. And we would lose that 'vantage; but since fame Makes virtue dullard,[136] we embrace our rights: The place before these walls, the hour next sun, The pole-axe and the hand-axe for the fight.

QUEEN. It is enough; My hostage is my person and my love,

CYP. And mine my hope, my faith, and royalty.

EPIRE. They are of poise sufficient, and one light Shall at one instant give us day and night.

[_Exeunt_ QUEEN, MARIANA, EPIRE, ALPHONSO, _&c._

CYP. She's gone, my Philocles: and as she goes, even so The sun forsakes the heavens to kiss the sea; Day in her beauty leaves us, and me thinks Her absence doth exile all happiness. Tell me, my Philocles, nay, prythee, Tell me true, even from that love Which to us both should blend one sympathy, Discharge an open breast: dost thou not think She is the mirror of her beauteous sex, Unparallel'd and uncompanioned?

PHIL. Envy will say she's rare; then truth must vow She is beyond compare, sith in her looks Each motion hath a speaking majesty; She is herself compared with herself: For, but herself, she hath no companion.[137] But when I think of beauty, wit and grace, The elements of native[138] delicacy, Those all-eye-pleasing harmonies of sight, Which do enchant men's fancies, and stir up The life-blood of dull earth--O, then methinks Fair Mariana hath an equal place, And if not outshine, shows[139] more beautiful.

CYP. More than my queen?

PHIL. More in the gloss of beauty; less in worth, In wisdom and great thoughts: the one I find Was made for wonder, the other for admire.

CYP. Thine equal praises make my fancies rich: And I am pleas'd with thy comparisons; Things of like nature live in best concent, Beauty with subjects, majesty with kings. Then let those two ideas lively move Spirit beyond all spirit in our breasts, That in the end of our great victory We may attain both love and majesty.

PHIL. Although my first creation and my birth, My thoughts and other tempers of my soul, Took all their noble beings from the sword, And made me only for the use of wars; Yet in this combat, something (methinks) appears, Greater than the greatest glory, and doth raise My mind beyond herself: 'Sfoot, methinks Cæsar's Pharsalia, Nor Scipio's Carthage, nor Emilius' acts, Were worthy chairs of triumph: they o'er men's Poor mangled bodies, and fire-wasted climes, Made their triumphant passage; but we two Must conquer thoughts and love more than the gods can do.

CYP. True, and therein Consists the glorious garland of our praise-- But we neglect th' affairs of preparation. Florio, be it your charge To see th' erection of the squared lists, Fit ground for either army, and what else Belongs unto such royal eminence.

FLO. How near will your majesty have[140] the lists extend Unto the city walls?

CYP. So as the dullest eye May see the heedfull'st passage in the fight.

FLO. What square or circuit?

CYP. Threescore pace each way.

FLO. Your majesty shall have your will perform'd.

PHIL. Do, and you do us grace. And now, thou sun, That art the eye of heaven, whose pure sight Shall be our guide and Jove's great chronicler, Look from thy sphere! No guilt of pride, of malice, or of blood, Puts on our armour; only pure naked love Tutors our hopes, and doth our actions move.

CYP. Enough, my Philocles, thine orisons are heard. Come, let's away. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ LOLLIA, _the wife of Prate the Orator._[141]

LOL. Now fie upon't, who would be an orator's wife, and not a gentlewoman, if she could choose? A lady is the most sweet lascivious life, congies and kisses--the tire, O the tire, made castle upon castle, jewel upon jewel, knot upon knot; crowns, garlands, gardings,[142] and what not? the hood, the rebato,[143] the French fall,[144] the loose-bodied gown, the pin in the hair; no clawing the pate, then picking the teeth, and every day change; when we poor souls must come and go for every man's pleasure: and what's a lady more than another body? we have legs and hands, and rolling eyes, hanging lips, sleek brows, cherry cheeks, and other things as ladies have--but the fashion carries it away.

_Enter Mistress_ COLLAQUINTIDA.

COL. Why how now, Mistress Prate? i' th' old disease still? will it never be better? cannot a woman find one kind man amongst twenty? O the days that I have seen, when the law of a woman's wit could have put her husband's purse to execution!

LOL. O Mistress Collaquintida, mine is even the unnaturallest man to his wife----

COL. Faith, for the most part, all scholars are so, for they take so upon them to know all things, that indeed they know nothing; and besides, they are with study and ease grown so unwieldy, that a woman shall ne'er want a sore stomach that's troubled with them.

LOL. And yet they must have the government of all.

COL. True, and great reason they have for it: but a wise man will put it in a woman's hand: what! she'll save what he spends.

LOL. You have a pretty ruff, how deep is it?

COL. Nay this is but shallow; marry, I have a ruff is a quarter deep, measured by the yard?

LOL. Indeed! by the yard?

COL. By the standard, I assure you: you have a pretty set too! how big is the steel you set with?

LOL. As big as is[145] reasonable sufficient:--pity of my life, I have forgot myself; if my husband should rise from his study, and miss me, we should have such a coil.

COL. A coil, why what coil? if he were my husband, and did but thwart me, I would ring him so many alarums, sound him so many brass trumpets, beat him so many drums to his confusion, and thunder him such a peal of great-shot, that I would turn his brain in the pan, and make him mad with an eternal silence.

LOL. O Mistress Collaquintida, but my husband's anger is the worst-favouredst, without all conscience, of any man's in all Sicily; he is even as peevish as a sick monkey, and as waspish as an ill-pleas'd bride the second morning.

COL. Let your wrath be reciprocal, and pay him at his own weapon--but to the purpose for which I came. The party you wot of commends him to you in this diamond; he that met the party you know, and said the party's party was a party of a partly pretty understanding.

LOL. O, the Lord Alphonso.

COL. The very same, believe it: he loves you, and swears he so loves you, that if you do not credit him, you are worse than an infidel.

LOL. Indeed, Mistress Collaquintida, he hath the right garb for apparel, the true touch with the tongue in the kiss, and he dances well but falls heavily: but my husband, woman, my husband!--if we could put out his cat's eyes, there were something to be said; but they are ever peeping and prying, that they are able to pierce through a millstone: besides, I may say to you, he is a little jealous too; and see where he comes! We shall have a coil now.

_Enter_ PRATE _the Orator_.

COL. Begin you to pout first; for that's a woman's prevention.

PRATE. What, Lollia, I say, where are you? my house looks you, my men lack you, I seek you, and a whole quest of inquiry cannot find you; fie, fie, fie! idleness is the whip of thrift: a good housewife should ever be occupied.

LOL. Indeed I have much joy to be occupied in anybody's company.

PRATE. Why, what's the matter?

LOL. Why, orators' wives shortly will be known like images on water-stairs, ever in one weather-beaten suit, as if none wore hoods but monks and ladies: nor feathers, but fore-horses and waiting gentlewomen; nor chains, but prisoners and lords' officers; nor periwigs, but players and hot-brains--but the weakest must to the wall still.[146]

PRATE. Go to, you shall have what you will.

LOL. Nay, nay, 'twas my hard fortune to be your wife; time was I might have done otherwise. But it matters not: you esteem me, as you do yourself, and think all things costly enough that cover shame, and that a pair of silken fore-sleeves to a satin breastplate is a garment good enough for a capitol; but is Master Wrangle, Master Tangle, or Master Trolbear, of that opinion? in faith, sir, no.

There's never a gallant in our state That goes more rich in gaudy bravery: And yet (I hope) for quality of speech, Audacious words, or quirks or quiddities, You are not held their much inferior. Fie, fie! I am ashamed to see your baseness.

COL. Indeed, Master Prate, she tells you truly; I wonder that you, being a proper man and an orator, will not go brave,[147] according to the custom of the country.

PRATE. Go to, neighbour; he that will rise to the top of a high ladder must go up, not leap up: but be patient, wench, and thou shalt shortly see me gallant it with the best, and for thyself, my Lollia--

Not Lollia Paulina, nor those blazing stars, Which make the world the apes of Italy, Shall match thyself in sun-bright splendency.

LOL. Nay, verily, for myself I care not, 'tis you that are my pride; if you would go like yourself, I were appeased.

PRATE. Believe it, wench, so I will:--but to the purpose for which I came. The end of this great war is now brought to a combat, two to two, the Duke of Epire and Alphonso for our queen, against the king and Prince Philocles: now, wench, if thou wilt go see the fight, I will send and provide thee of a good standing.

LOL. Indeed, for you have ne'er a good one of your own. [_Aside._

PRATE. What! Precedent, I say!

PRE. [_Within._] Anon, anon, sir.

PRATE. Why, when, I say? the villain's belly is like a bottomless pit--ever filling, and yet empty; at your leisure, sir.

_Enter_ PRECEDENT, PRATE'S _man, eating_.

PRE. I can make no more haste than my teeth will give me leave.

PRATE. Well, sir, get you without the town to the place of the combat, and provide me for my wife some good standing to see the conflict.

PRE. How, master, how! must I provide a good standing for you for my mistress? truly, master, I think a marrow-bone pie, candied eringoes, preserved dates, marmalade of cantharides, were much better harbingers; cock-sparrow stewed, doves' brains, or swans' pizzles, are very provocative; roasted potatoes[148] or boiled skirrets[149] are your only lofty dishes; methinks these should fit you better than I can do.

PRATE. What's this, what's this? I say, provide me a standing for my wife upon a scaffold.

PRE. And truly, master, I think a private chamber were better.