Of ten set battles in your highness' war Methinks had metal in it to survive Henry. Such often soonest end. Thy felt report calls on; we long to know In my young travels through Armenia, Nuntius. Sorrow and fury, like two oppo- By which time, all the life-strings of th' two other site fumes Met in the upper region of a cloud, At the report made by this worthy's fall, Were cut, and both fell (as their spirit flew) Brake from the earth, and with them rose Re- Untoucht, save only with the others blood. venge, Ent'ring with fresh pow'rs his two noble friends: Henry. All slain outright but he? Nuntius. All slain outright but he: Who kneeling in the warm life of his friends |(All freckled with the blood his rapier rain'd) He kist their pale lips, and bade both farewell. John Webster. Ein Zeitgenosse Ben Jonson's und Nachahmer Shakspeare's; er blühte um 1612-1623 und hat drei Tragödien und eine Tragi-komödie hinterlassen, die er allein und zwei Komödien, die er in Verbindung mit W. Stowley verfasst hat. Seine beiden bedeutendsten Leistungen sind: The white Devil und the Duchess of Malfy. In beiden beurkundet er seltene jedoch oft excentrische dramatische Kraft. Scenes from The white Devil: or, Vittoria Corombona, A Lady of Venice. A Tragedy. By John Webster. The arraignment of Vittoria. Paulo Giordano Ursini, Duke of Brachiano, for the love of Vittoria Corombona, a Venetian Lady, and at her suggestion, causes her Husband Camillo to be murdered. Suspicion falls upon Vittoria, who is tried at Rome, on à double Charge of Murder and incontinence in the presence of Cardinal Monticelso, Cousin to the deseased Camillo; Francisco de Medicis, Brother in Law to Brachiano; the Ambassadors of France, Spain, England, etc. As the arraignment is beginning the Duke confidently enters the Court. Mon. Forbear, my Lord, here is no place assign'd you: This business, by his holiness, is left To our examination. Bra May it thrive with you. Fra. A chair there for his lordship. (Lays a rich gown under him.) Bra. Forbear your kindness; an unbidden guest Should travel as Dutch women go to church, Mon. At your pleasure, Sir. Lawyer. Domine judex converte oculos in hanc pestem mulierum corruptissimam. Vit. What's he? Fra. A lawyer, that pleads against you. Vit. Pray, my Lord, let him speak his usual tongue, I'll make no answer else. Fra. Why, you understand Latin. Vit. I do, Sir, but amongst this auditory Which come to hear my cause, the half or more May be ignorant in 't. Vit. By your favor, I will not have my accusation clouded You need not stand on't much; pray, change your language. Mon. Oh, for God's sake! gentlewoman, your credit Shall be more famous by it. Law. Well then have at you. Vit. I am the mark, Sir, I'll give aim to you, And tell you how near you shoot. Law. Mon. I must spare you, till proof cry whore Observe this creature here, my honor'd Lords, It doth not suit a reverend Cardinal Mon. O your trade instructs your language. To grow where Sodom and Gomorrah stood, Vit. Your invenom'd apothecary should do't. Most literated judges, please your Were there a second paradise to lose, lordships So to connive your judgments to the view Of mischief hath effected, that to extirp Vit. What's all this? Law. Hold your peace! Exorbitant sins must have exulceration. This devil would betray it. Vit. O poor charity, Thou art seldom found in scarlet. Mon. Who knows not how, when several night by night Her gates were choakt with coaches, and her rooms Outbrav'd the stars with several kinds of lights; Vit. Surely, my Lords, this lawyer hath swal-This whore forsooth was holy. lowed Some apothecaries bills, or proclamations; Why, this is Welch to Latin. Law. My Lords, the woman Knows not her tropes, nor is perfect In the academick derivation Of grammatical elocution. Fra. Sir, your pains Shall be well spared and your deep eloquence Be worthily applauded among those Which understand you. Law. My good Lord. Fra. Sir, Put up your papers in your fustian bag; Vit. Ha! whore? what's that? Mon. Shall I expound whore to you? sure for I'll give their perfect character. They are first, nostrils Poison'd perfumes. They are cozening alchymy; whores? Cold Russian winters, that appear so barren, paid, Exactions upon meat, drink, garments, sleep: I shall have use for them elsewhere. Your follies in more natural red and white, Vit. O you mistake, You raise a blood as noble in this cheek And wrought upon by surgeons, to teach man She's like the guilt counterfeited coin, All that receive it. Vit. This character 'scapes me. Mon. You, gentlewoman? Take from all beasts and from all minerals Vit. Well, what then? Mon. I'll tell thee; I'll find in thee an apothecary's shop, Fr. Emb. She hath lived ill. En. Emb. True, but the Cardinal's too bitter. Mon. You know what whore is. Next the devil adultr'y, Enters the devil murder. Fra. Your unhappy husband Is dead. Vit. O he's a happy husband, Fra. And by a vaulting engine. He jumpt into his grave. Fra. What a prodigy was't, That from some two yards high, a slender man Should break his neck? Mon. I' th' rushes? Fra. And what's more, Upon the instant lose allure of speech, All vital motion, like a man had lain Wound up three days. Now mark each circum stance. Mon. Well, well, such counterfeit jewels Make true ones oft suspected. Vit. You are deceived; For knew, that all your strict combined heads, These are but feigned shadows of my evils. I am past such needless palsy. For your names Mon. Pray you mistress, satisfy me one question. Who lodg'd beneath your roof that fatal night Bra. And 'twas strangely fear'd That you would cozen her. Mon. Who made you overseer? Bra. Why, my charity, my charity, which should flow Mon. And look upon this creature was his From every generous and noble spirit, wife, She comes not like a widow: she comes arm'd With scorn and impudence: is this a mourning habit? To orphans and to widows. Mon. Your lust. Bra. Cowardly dogs bark loudest! sirrah, priest, Vit. Had I foreknown his death as you I'll take with you hereafter. Do you hear? The sword you frame of thy coat resemble Your common post-boys. Mon. Ha! Bra. Your mercenary post-boys. Your letters carry truth, but 'tis your guise To fill your mouths with gross and impudent lies. Servant. My Lord, your gown. Bra. Thou liest, 'twas my stool. Mon. Your champion's gone. But no sound proof who did it. For my part, 'Twas interest for his lust. Vit. Who says so but yourself? if you be my accuser, As in cold countries husband-men plant vines, Pray cease to be my judge; come from the root. The act of blood let pass, only descend To matter of incontinence. Vit. I discern poison Under your gilded pills. Give in your evidence against me, and let these Were your intelligencing ears as loving, As to my thoughts, had you an honest tongue, I would not care though you proclaim'd them all. After your goodly and vain-glorious banquet Mon. Now the Duke's gone I will produce I'll give you a choak-pear. a letter, Wherein 'twas plotted, he and you shall meet, Vit. Grant I was tempted; You read his hot love to me, but you want Mon. Frost i' th' dog-days! strange. Vit. Of your own grafting? Mon. You were born in Venice, honorably descended From the Vittelli; 'twas my cousin's fate, Vit. Ha! Mon. He spent there in six months Twelve thousand ducats, and (to my knewledge) Receiv'd in dowry with you not one julio. 'Twas a hard penny-worth, the ware being so light. I yet but draw the curtain, now to your picture: Vit. Condemn you me for that the Duke You came from thence a most notorious strumpet, did love me? So may you blame some fair and chrystal river For that some melancholic distracted man Mon. Truly drown'd, indeed. And so you have continued. Vit. My Lord! Mon. Nay hear me You shall have time to prate. My Lord Brachiano - Vit. Sum up my faults. I pray, and you Of what is ordinary and Ryalto talk, And ballated, and would be plaid o' th' stage Joyn'd to th' condition of the present time, Vit. A house of converts! what's that? Vit. Do the Noblemen in Rome Fra. You must have patience. Vit. I must first have vengeance. I fain would know if you have your salvation Mon. Away with her, Take her hence. Vit. A rape! a rape! Vit. Yes, you have ravish'd justice; Fore'd her to do your pleasure. Mon. Fie, she's mad! For since you cannot take my life for deeds, Vit. Die with those pills in your most cursed No; I do scorn to call up one poor tear maw, Should bring you health! or while you sit o' th' Unto this house of what's your mitigating title? bench, Let your own spittle choak you! Mon. She's turn'd fury. find you, Mon. Of converts. To fawn on your injustice: bear me hence Vit. It shall not be a house of converts; My mind shall make it honester to me Vit. That the last day of judgment may so Than the Pope's palace, and more peaceable Than thy soul, though thou art a Cardinal; And leave you the same Devil you were before! Know this, and let it somewhat raise your spight, Instruct me some good horse-leach to speak Through darkness diamonds spread their richest Richard Corbet ward 1582 in dem Dorfe Ewell in Surrey geboren, erhielt eine wissenschaftliche Bildung in Westminster und Oxford und trat dann in den geistlichen Stand. Durch seine Rednergabe erwarb er sich die Gunst Jakobs I., in Folge deren er 1629 Bischof von Oxford und 1632 von Norwich ward. Er starb im Juli 1635. Corbet war ein lustiger Mann, der sein Amt oft über seiner Lustigkeit vergass und daher allgemein der witzige Bischof genannt wurde (wittee Bishop Corbet), seinen Witz aber nie missbrauchte, um Jemanden wehe zu thun. Seine poetischen Werke erschienen zuerst gesammelt im Jahre 1647 und wurden dann 1672 wieder neu aufgelegt; später sind sie aber grösstentheils in Vergessenheit gerathen; sie enthalten vorzüglich Elegieen, Satyren und Lieder und athmen eine frische, lebendige Lustigkeit und gesunden Verstand, der über die Thorheiten der Menschen mit gutmüthigem Humor und herzlichem Mitleide spottet, in fliessender beseelter Ausdrucksweise. Viele derselben waren von dem Verfasser allerdings nicht für die Oeffentlichkeit bestimmt, sondern fanden erst später allgemeine Verbreitung; allerdings stimmen sie nicht immer recht zu seinem ernsten Berufe, doch findet sich auch Nichts darin, wodurch das Gefühl und die gute Sitte verletzt würden. The Fairies Farewell. Farewell rewards and Fairies! Good housewives now you may say; For now foule sluts in dairies, Doe fare as well as they: And though they sweepe their hearths no less Than mayds were wont to doe, Yet who of late for cleaneliness Finds sixe-pence in her shoe? Lament, lament old Abbies, The fairies lost command; They did but change priests babies, And all your children stoln from thence At morning and at evening both So little care of sleepe and sloth, Then merrily went their toes. |