The Works of Christopher Marlowe - LightNovelsOnl.com
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No--no!
MARLOWE.
Wilt promise To see me for one "good night" ere you sleep?
CECILIA.
On my way home I will.
(_She turns to look at him--then steps through the Window--Exit_.)
MARLOWE.
Be sure--be sure!
(HEYWOOD _and_ MIDDLETON _approach_.)
HEYWOOD.
Now, Marlowe!--you desert us!
MARLOWE.
Say not so;-- Or, saying so, add--that I have lost myself!
Nay, but I _have_; yonder I go in the dark!
(_pointing after_ CECILIA)
_Street Music._--JACCONOT, _singing outside._
Ram out the link, boys; ho, boys![685]
There's daylight in the sky!
While the trenchers strew the floor, And the worn-out grey beards snore, Jolly throats continue dry!
Ram out the link, boys, &c.
MIDDLETON.
What voice is that?
MARLOWE (_through his teeth_).
From one of the h.e.l.ls.
HEYWOOD.
The roystering singer approaches.
_Enter_ JACCONOT, _with a full tankard._
JACCONOT.
Ever awake and s.h.i.+ning, my masters! and here am I, your twin l.u.s.tre, always ready to herald and anoint your pleasures, like a true Master of the Revels. I ha' just stepped over the drawer's body, laid nose and heels together on the door-mat, asleep, and here's wherewith to continue the glory!
MIDDLETON.
We need not your help.
HEYWOOD.
We thank you, Jack-o'-night: we would be alone.
JACCONOT.
What say _you_, Master Marlowe? you look as grim as a sign-painters'
first sketch on a tavern bill, after his ninth tankard.
MIDDLETON.
Cease your death-rattle, night-hawk!
MARLOWE.
That's well said.
JACCONOT.
Is it? So 'tis my gallants--a night-bird like yourselves, am I.
MARLOWE.
Beast!--we know you.
JACCONOT.
Your merry health, Master Kit Marlowe! I'll bring a loud pair of palms to cheer your soul the next time you strut in red paint with a wooden weapon at your thigh.
MARLOWE.
Who sent for _you_, dorr-hawk?--go!
JACCONOT.
Go! Aha!--I remember the word--same tone, same gesture--or as like as the two profiles of a monkey, or as two squeaks for one pinch. Go!--not I--here's to all your healths! One pull more! There, I've done--take it, Master Marlowe; and pledge me as the true knight of London's rarest beauties!
MARLOWE.
I will! (_Dashes the tankard at his head_.)
JACCONOT (_stooping quickly_).
