Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

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Written upon the West end thereof

Not monumental stone preserves our fame,

Nor sky-aspiring pyramids our name.

The memory of him for whom this stands

Shall outlive marble and defacers’ hands.

When all to time’s consumption shall be given,

Stanley for whom this stands shall stand in heaven.

On Ben Jonson

Master Ben Jonson and Master William Shakespeare

being merry at a tavern, Master Jonson having begun

this for his epitaph:

Here lies Ben Jonson

That was once one,

he gives it to Master Shakespeare to make up who

presently writes:

Who while he lived was a slow thing,

And now, being dead, is nothing.

An Epitaph on Elias James

When God was pleased, the world unwilling yet,

Elias James to nature paid his debt,

And here reposeth. As he lived, he died,

The saying strongly in him verified:

‘Such life, such death’. Then, a known truth to tell,

He lived a godly life, and died as well.

An extemporary epitaph on John Combe, a noted usurer

Ten in the hundred here lies engraved;

A hundred to ten his soul is not saved.

If anyone ask who lies in this tomb,

‘O ho!’ quoth the devil, “tis my John-a-Combe.’

Another Epitaph on John Combe

He being dead, and making the poor his heirs, William

Shakespeare after writes this for his epitaph:

Howe’er he lived judge not,

John Combe shall never be forgot

While poor hath memory, for he did gather

To make the poor his issue; he, their father,

As record of his tilth and seed 5

Did crown him in his latter deed.

Upon the King

At the foot of the effigy of King James I, before his Works (1616)

Crowns have their compass; length of days, their date;

Triumphs, their tombs; felicity, her fate.

Of more than earth can earth make none partaker,

But knowledge makes the king most like his maker.

Epitaph on Himself

Good friend, for Jesus’ sake forbear

To dig the dust enclosed here.

Blessed be the man that spares these stones,

And cursed be he that moves my bones.

SIR THOMAS MORE

BY ANTHONY MUNDAY AND HENRY CHETTLE, WITH REVISIONS AND ADDITIONS BY THOMAS DEKKER, WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AND THOMAS HEY WOOD

THE text that follows is entirely different from any other in this volume. All the other plays derive from printed editions; this comes from what is probably the untidiest, most heavily revised dramatic manuscript of the period, giving us unique insights into its playwrights’ working conditions. It represents a troubled and ultimately abandoned attempt on the part of various authors to create a script, interrupted by the censorial intervention of the Master of the Revels, Edmund Tilney. The working manuscript preserved in the British Library is described on its first leaf as ‘The Booke’—that is, the theatre manuscript—‘of Sir Thomas Moore.’ The basic manuscript is a fair copy made by the dramatist Anthony Munday (1560-1633) of a text in which he may have collaborated with Henry Chettle (c. 1560-c. 1607). Alterations and additions were made by Chettle, Thomas Dekker (c. 15 72-1632), very probably William Shakespeare, and probably Thomas Heywood (c. 1573-1641). A theatre scribe annotated parts of the manuscript, and some of the revisions exist in transcripts he wrote out. In this edition each section is preceded and concluded with an identification of the hand.

It seems likely that the original play was written during the early 1590s and submitted in the usual way to the Master of the Revels for a licence. Tilney called for substantial alterations. Though the play’s favourable portrait of a man sometimes seen as a Catholic martyr was provocative, Tilney’s attention was concentrated mostly on the insurrection scenes. In our view the original play was laid aside until soon after Queen Elizabeth died, in 1603, when the political objections would have carried less weight, and the revisions—which do not meet Tilney’s requirements—were made then. Shakespeare’s authorship of the majority of Sc.6, first proposed in 1871, has been accepted by most scholars on the basis of handwriting and of the evidence of dramatic and linguistic style. His contribution shows him as a thoroughgoing professional sharing with colleagues whose work he respected in an essentially collaborative enterprise.

Sir Thomas More is based on Holinshed’s Chronicles and Nicholas Harpsfield’s biography of More. Sheriff More peacefully quells the riots of Londoners against resident foreigners on the ‘Ill May Day’ of 1517, and is appointed Lord Chancellor as a reward. In the Shakespearian Sc. 6, More persuades the rebels to surrender to the King, arguing for obedience to authority and challenging the rebels to consider their own plight if, like the strangers, they were to live in exile. A passage less securely attributed to Shakespeare is More’s bemused and wary soliloquy at the beginning of Sc. 8. The play elsewhere presents a series of serio-comic episodes dramatizing his wit in attempting to reform minor offenders, his credentials as a humanist, his practical joking, and his love of plays. More’s downfall and passage to the scaffold begin when he refuses the King’s demand that he sign unspecified articles. Later scenes, though sombre in tone, depict his almost light-hearted resolution to pursue death rather than yield to the King’s demands.

The play has been performed most notably by the Royal Shakespeare Company in 2005.

THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

Thomas MORE, a sheriff of London, later Sir Thomas More and

Lord Chancellor

The Earl of SHREWSBURY

The Earl of SURREY

John LINCOLN, a broker

DOLL Williamson

WILLIAMSON, her husband, a carpenter

GEORGE BETTS

CLOWN BETTS, his brother, called Ralph

SHERWIN, a goldsmith

Francis de BARDE, a Lombard

CAVELIER, a Lombard or Frenchman

The LORD MAYOR of London

The LADY MAYORESS

Justice SURESBY

LIFTER, a cutpurse

SMART, the plaintiff against him

The RECORDER of London

Sir Thomas PALMER

Sir Roger CHOLMLEY

Sir John MUNDAY

A SERGEANT-at-arms

CROFTS, a messenger from the King

RANDALL, More’s manservant

Jack FALKNER, a ruffian

ERASMUS, a learned clerk of Rotterdam

MORRIS, secretary to the Bishop of Winchester

The Lord Cardinal’s PLAYERS, performing the roles of:

INCLINATION

PROLOGUE

WIT

A boy player of LADY VANITY

LUGGINS, player of Good Counsel

William ROPER, More’s son-in-law

LADY MORE, his wife

ROPER’S WIFE, one of More’s daughters

More’s OTHER DAUGHTER

CATESBY, More’s steward

GOUGH, More’s secretary

Doctor Fisher, Bishop of ROCHESTER

DOWNES, another sergeant-at-arms

LIEUTENANT of the Tower

A GENTLEMAN PORTER of the Tower

The HANGMAN

A poor WOMAN, a client of More

Other SHERIFFS

MESSENGERS

CLERK of the Council

OFFICERS

Lords, Ladies, Gentlemen, Aldermen, Citizens, Prentices, Servingmen, Warders of the Tower, and Attendants

NOTE ON SPECIAL FEATURES OF PRESENTATION

Complexities in the manuscript have led to the following modifications of standard Oxford Shakespeare presentation.

Rules across the column show where the text switches from the Original Text to a revision and back, or from one revision to another. Notes in the right margin above and below these rules specify the section of the manuscript and the hand.

Annotations in a second hand are preserved and printed in a special typeface. Passages in the manuscript explicitly or implicitly deleted are underlined in this edition, except where the final text as edited duplicates the deleted text (see Appendix B). Identifiable interventions by second hands are as follows:

Tilney: in Sc. 1, Sc. 3, Sc. 10.

Playhouse book-keeper: in Sc. 4, Sc. 6 (Addition II and 1. 234), Sc. 9.

Dekker: phrase at 8.232-3. Heywood(?): addition of Clown’s part in Sc. 6 and Sc. 7.

Angle brackets 〈 〉 indicate gaps in the text due to damage to the manuscript.

Stage directions reflect the wording of the manuscript unless enclosed in special brackets ⌈ ⌉.

The Book of Sir Thomas More

[Original Text (monday)]

[Tilney]

Leave out the insurrection wholly and the cause thereof, and begin with Sir Thomos More at the Mayor’s sessions, with a report afterwards of his good service done being Sheriff of London upon a mutiny against the Lombards—only by a short report, and not otherwise, at your own perils. E. Tilney.

Sc. 1 Enter at one end John Lincoln with George Betts and Clown Betts together. At the other end enters Francis de Barde and Doll, a lusty woman, he hauling her by the arm

DOLL Whither wilt thou haul me?

BARDE Whither I please. Thou art my prize, and I plead purchase of thee.

DOLL Purchase of me? Away, ye rascal! I am an honest, plain carpenter’s wife, and, though I have no beauty to like a husband, yet whatsoever is mine scorns to stoop to a stranger. Hand off then when I bid theel

BARDE Go with me quietly, or I’ll compel thee.

DOLL Compel me, ye dog’s face? Thou think‘st thou hast the goldsmith’s wife in hand, whom thou enticed’st from her husband with all his plate, and when thou turned‘st her home to him again mad’st him, like an ass, pay for his wife’s board.

BARDE So will I make thy husband too, if please me. Enter Cavelier, with a pair of doves, Williamson the carpenter and Sherwin following him

DOLL Here he comes himself. Tell him so if thou dar’st.

CAVELIER [to Williamson] Follow me no further. I say thou shalt not have them.

WILLIAMSON I bought them in Cheapside, and paid my money for them.

SHERWIN He did, sir, indeed, and you offer him wrong, both to take them from him and not restore him his money neither.

CAVELIER If he paid for them, let it suffice that I possess them. Beefs and brewis may serve such hinds. Are pigeons meat for a coarse carpenter?

LINCOLN [ aside to George Betts] It is hard when Englishmen’s patience must be thus jetted on by strangers, and they not dare to revenge their own wrongs.

GEORGE BETTS [aside to Lincoln] Lincoln, let’s beat them down, and bear no more of these abuses.

LINCOLN [aside to George Betts] We may not, Betts. Be patient and hear more.

DOLL How now, husband? What, one stranger take thy food from thee, and another thy wife? By’r Lady, flesh and blood, I think, can hardly brook that.

LINCOLN Will this gear never be otherwise? Must these wrongs be thus endured?

GEORGE BETTS Let us step in, and help to revenge their injury.

BARDE What art thou that talkest of revenge? My Lord Ambassador shall once more make your Mayor have a check if he punish thee not for this saucy presumption.

WILLIAMSON Indeed my Lord Mayor on the Ambassador’s complaint sent me to Newgate one day because, against my will, I took the wall of a stranger. You may do anything. The goldsmith’s wife, and mine now, must be at your commandment.

GEORGE BETTS The more patient fools are ye both to suffer it.

BARDE Suffer it? Mend it thou or he if ye can or dare. I tell thee, fellow, an she were the Mayor of London’s wife, had I her once in my possession I would keep her in spite of him that durst say nay.

GEORGE BETTS I tell thee, Lombard, these words should cost thy best cap, were I not curbed by duty and obedience. The Mayor of London’s wife? O God, shall it be thus?

DOLL Why, Betts, am not I as dear to my husband as my Lord Mayor’s wife to him, [ to Williamson] and wilt thou so neglectly suffer thine own shame? [To de Barde ] Hands off, proud stranger, or, by Him that bought me, if men’s milky hearts dare not strike a stranger, yet women will beat them down ere they bear these abuses. BARDE Mistress, I say you shall along with me.

DOLL Touch not Doll Williamson, lest she lay thee along on God’s dear earth. (To Cavelier) And you, sir, that allow such coarse cates to carpenters, whilst pigeons which they pay for must serve your dainty appetite: deliver them back to my husband again, or I’ll call so many women to mine assistance as we’ll not leave one inch untorn of thee. If our husbands must be bridled by law, and forced to bear your wrongs, their wives will be a little lawless, and soundly beat ye.

CAVELIER Come away, de Barde, and let us go complain to my Lord Ambassador. Exeunt both

DOLL Ay, go, and send him among us, and we’ll give him his welcome too. I am ashamed that free-born Englishmen, having beaten strangers within their own bounds, should thus be braved and abused by them at home.

SHERWIN It is not our lack of courage in the cause, but the strict obedience that we are bound to. I am the goldsmith whose wrongs you talked of; but how to redress yours or mine own is a matter beyond all our abilities.

LINCOLN Not so, not so, my good friends. I, though a mean man, a broker by profession, and named John Lincoln, have long time winked at these vile enormities with mighty impatience, and, as these two brethren here, Bettses by name, can witness, with loss of mine own life would gladly remedy them.

GEORGE BETTS And he is in a good forwardness, I tell ye, if all hit right.

DOLL As how, I prithee? Tell it to Doll Williamson.

LINCOLN You know the Spital sermons begin the next week. I have drawn a bill of our wrongs, and the strangers’ insolencies.

GEORGE BETTS Which he means the preachers shall there openly publish in the pulpit.

WILLIAMSON O, but that they would! I’faith, it would tickle our strangers thoroughly.

DOLL Ay, and if you men durst not undertake it, before God, we women will. Take an honest woman from her husband? Why, it is intolerable.

SHERWIN ⌈to Lincoln⌉ But how find ye the preachers affected to our proceeding?

LINCOLN Master Doctor Standish means not to meddle with any such matter in his sermon, but Doctor Beal will do in this matter as much as a priest may do to reform it, and doubts not but happy success will ensue upon our wrongs. You shall perceive there’s no hurt in the bill. Here’s a copy of it. I pray ye, hear it.

ALL THE REST With all our hearts. For God’s sake, read it.

LINCOLN (reads) ‘To you all the worshipful lords and masters of this city, that will take compassion over the poor people your neighbours, and also of the great importable hurts, losses, and hindrances whereof proceedeth extreme poverty to all the King’s subjects that inhabit within this city and suburbs of the same. For so it is that aliens and strangers eat the bread from the fatherless children, and take the living from all the artificers, and the intercourse from all merchants, whereby poverty is so much increased that every man bewaileth the misery of other; for craftsmen be brought to beggary, and merchants to neediness. Wherefore, the premises considered, the redress must be of the commons, knit and united to one part. And as the hurt and damage grieveth all men, so must all men set to their willing power for remedy, and not suffer the said aliens in their wealth, and the natural-born men of this region to come to confusion.’

DOLL Before God, ’tis excellent, and I’ll maintain the suit to be honest.

SHERWIN Well, say ’tis read, what is your further meaning in the matter?

GEORGE BETTS What? Marry, list to me. No doubt but this will store us with friends enough, whose names we will closely keep in writing, and on May Day next in the morning we’ll go forth a-Maying, but make it the worst May Day for the strangers that ever they saw. How say ye? Do ye subscribe, or are ye faint-hearted revolters?

DOLL Hold thee, George Betts, there’s my hand and my heart. By the Lord, I’ll make a captain among ye, and do somewhat to be talked of for ever after.

WILLIAMSON My masters, ere we part let’s friendly go and drink together, and swear true secrecy upon our lives.

GEORGE BETS There spake an angel. Come, let us along then.

Exeunt

Sc. 2 An arras is drawn, and behind it, as in sessions, sit the Lord Mayor, Justice Suresby, and other Justices, ⌈and the Recorder⌉, Sheriff More and the other Sheriff sitting by. Smart is the plaintiff, Lifter the prisoner at the bar

LORD MAYOR

Having dispatched our weightier businesses,

We may give ear to petty felonies.

Master Sheriff More, what is this fellow?

MORE

My lord, he stands indicted for a purse.

He hath been tried; the jury is together.

LORD MAYOR

Who sent him in?

SURESBY That did I, my lord.

Had he had right, he had been hanged ere this,

The only captain of the cutpurse crew.

LORD MAYOR What is his name?

SURESBY

As his profession is: Lifter, my lord,

One that can lift a purse right cunningly.

LORD MAYOR

And is that he accuses him?

SURESBY

The same, my lord, whom, by your honour’s leave,

I must say somewhat too, because I find

In some respects he is well worthy blame.

LORD MAYOR

Good Master Justice Suresby, speak your mind.

We are well pleased to give you audience.

SURESBY

Hear me, Smart. Thou art a foolish fellow.

If Lifter be convicted by the law,

As I see not how the jury can acquit him,

I’ll stand to’t thou art guilty of his death.

MORE ⌈to the Lord Mayor⌉

My lord, that’s worth the hearing.

LORD MAYOR

Listen then, good Master More.

SURESBY ⌈to Smart⌉

I tell thee plain, it is a shame for thee

With such a sum to tempt necessity.

No less than ten pounds, sir, will serve your turn

To carry in your purse about with ye,

To crack and brag in taverns of your money?

I promise ye, a man that goes abroad

With an intent of truth, meeting such a booty,

May be provoked to that he never meant.

What makes so many pilferers and felons

But such fond baits that foolish people lay

To tempt the needy miserable wretch?

Ten pounds odd money, this is a pretty sum

To bear about, which were more safe at home.

Lord Mayor and More whisper

‘Fore God, ’twere well to fine ye as much more,

To the relief of the poor prisoners,

To teach ye be more careful of your own.

( ) rightly served.

( )

MORE

Good my lord, sooth a ( ) for once,

Only to try conclusions in this case.

LORD MAYOR

Content, good Master More. We’ll rise a while,

And till the jury can return their verdict

Walk in the garden. How say ye, justices?

ALL JUSTICES

We like it well, my lord; we’ll follow ye.

Exeunt Lord Mayor and Justices

MORE

Nay, plaintiff, go you too. Exit Smart

And officers,

Stand you aside, and leave the prisoner

To me a while.

Exeunt all but More and Lifter

Lifter, come hither.

LIFTER What is your worship’s pleasure?

MORE

Sirrah, you know that you are known to me,

And I have often saved ye from this place

Since first I came in office. Thou seest beside

That Justice Suresby is thy heavy friend,

For all the blame that he pretends to Smart

For tempting thee with such a sum of money.

I tell thee what: devise me but a means

To pick or cut his purse, and on my credit,

And as I am a Christian and a man,

I will procure thy pardon for that jest.

LIFTER

Good Master Sheriff, seek not my overthrow.

You know, sir, I have many heavy friends,

And more indictments like to come upon me.

You are too deep for me to deal withal.

You are known to be one of the wisest men

That is in England. I pray ye, Master Sheriff,

Go not about to undermine my life.

MORE

Lifter, I am true subject to my king.

Thou much mistak’st me, and for thou shalt not think

I mean by this to hurt thy life at all,

I will maintain the act when thou hast done it.

Thou knowest there are such matters in my hands

As, if I pleased to give them to the jury,

I should not need this way to circumvent thee.

All that I aim at is a merry jest.

Perform it, Lifter, and expect my best.

LIFTER

I thank your worship, God preserve your life!

But Master Justice Suresby is gone in.

I know not how to come near where he is.

MORE

Let me alone for that. I’ll be thy setter.

I’ll send him hither to thee presently,

Under the colour of thine own request

Of private matters to acquaint him with.

LIFTER

If ye do, sir, then let me alone.

Forty to one but then his purse is gone.

MORE

Well said; but see that thou diminish not

One penny of the money, but give it me.

It is the cunning act that credits thee.

LIFTER

I will, good Master Sheriff, I assure thee. Exit More

I see the purpose of this gentleman

Is but to check the folly of the Justice

For blaming others in a desperate case,

Wherein himself may fall as soon as any.

To save my life it is a good adventure.

Silence there, hol Now doth the Justice enter.

Enter Justice Suresby

SURESBY

Now, sirrah, now, what is your will with me?

Wilt thou discharge thy conscience, like an honest

man?

What sayst to me, sirrah? Be brief, be brief.

LIFTER As brief, sir, as I can.

(Aside) If ye stand fair, I will be brief anon.

SURESBY

Speak out and mumble not. What sayst thou, sirrah?

LIFTER

Sir, I am charged, as God shall be my comfort,

With more than’s true—

SURESBY

Sir, sir, ye are indeed, with more than’s true,

For you are flatly charged with felony.

You’re charged with more than truth, and that is theft:

More than a true man should be charged withal.

Thou art a varlet; that’s no more than true.

Trifle not with me, do not, do not, sirrah.

Confess but what thou knowest; I ask no more.

LIFTER

There be, sir—there be, if’t shall please your worship—

SURESBY

‘There be’, varlet? What be there, tell me what there be?

Come off or on ‘there be’, what be there, knave?

LIFTER

There be, sir, divers very cunning fellows

That while you stand and look them in the face

Will have your purse.

SURESBY

Thou’rt an honest knave.

Tell me, what are they, where they may be caught.

Ay, those are they I look for.

LIFTER

You talk of me, sir—

Alas, I am a puny. There’s one, indeed,

Goes by my name; he puts down all for purses

SURESBY

Be as familiar as thou wilt, my knave.

’Tis this I long to know.

LIFTER (aside)

And you shall have your longing ere ye go.—

This fellow, sir, perhaps will meet ye thus,

Action ⌈of greeting him⌉

Or thus, or thus, and in kind compliment

Pretend acquaintance, somewhat doubtfully,

And these embraces serve.

SURESBY (shrugging gladly)

Ay, marry, Lifter, wherefore serve they?

LIFTER

Only to feel

Whether you go full under sail or no,

Or that your lading be aboard your barque.

SURESBY

In plainer English, Lifter, if my purse

Be stored or no?

LIFTER

Ye have it, sir.

SURESBY

Excellent, excellent!

LIFTER

Then, sir, you cannot but for manners’ sake

Walk on with him, for he will walk your way,

Alleging either you have much forgot him,

Or he mistakes you.

SURESBY

But in this time has he my purse or no?

LIFTER

Not yet, sir, fie! ⌈Aside⌉ No, nor I have not yours.—

⌈He takes Suresby’s purse.⌉

Enter Lord Mayor, ⌈Justices, and the Recorder; Sheriff

More and the other Sheriff⌉

But now we must forbear; my lords return.

SURESBY

A murrain on’t! Lifter, we’ll more anon.

Ay, thou sayst true: there are shrewd knaves indeed.

He sits down

But let them gull me, widgeon me, rook me, fop me,

I‘faith, i’faith, they are too short for me.

Knaves and fools meet when purses go.

Wise men look to their purses well enough.

MORE (aside)

Lifter, is it done?

LIFTER (aside)

Done, Master Sheriff, and there it is.

⌈He gives Suresby’s purse to More⌉

MORE (aside)

Then build upon my word, I’ll save thy life.

RECORDER Lifter, stand to the bar. 150

The jury have returned thee guilty; thou must die.

According to the custom, look to it, Master Sheriff.

LORD MAYOR

Then, gentlemen, as you are wont to do,

Because as yet we have no burial place,

What charity your meaning’s to bestow 155

Toward burial of the prisoners now condemned,

Let it be given. There is first for me.

RECORDER

And there’s for me.

ANOTHER

And me.

SURESBY

Body of me,

My purse is gone!

MORE Gone, sir? What, here? How can that be?

LORD MAYOR

Against all reason: sitting on the bench? 160

SURESBY

Lifter, I talked with you; you have not lifted me, ha?

LIFTER

Suspect ye me, sir? O, what a world is this!

MORE

But hear ye, Master Suresby. Are ye sure

Ye had a purse about ye?

SURESBY

Sure, Master Sheriff, as sure as you are there; 165

And in it seven pounds odd money, on my faith.

MORE

Seven pounds odd money? What, were you so mad,

Being a wise man, and a magistrate,

To trust your purse with such a liberal sum?

Seven pounds odd money? Fore God, it is a shame 170

With such a sum to tempt necessity.

I promise ye, a man that goes abroad

With an intent of truth, meeting such a booty,

May be provoked to that he never thought.

What makes so many pilferers and felons 175

But these fond baits that foolish people lay

To tempt the needy, miserable wretch?

Should he be taken now that has your purse,

I’d stand to‘t, you are guilty of his death;

For, questionless, he would be cast by law.

’Twere a good deed to fine ye as much more,

To the relief of the poor prisoners,

To teach ye lock your money up at home.

SURESBY

Well, Master More, you are a merry man.

I find ye, sir, I find ye well enough.

MORE

Nay, ye shall see, sir, trusting thus your money,

And Lifter here in trial for like case,

But that the poor man is a prisoner,

It would be now suspected that he had it.

Thus may ye see what mischief often comes

By the fond carriage of such needless sums.

LORD MAYOR

Believe me, Master Suresby, this is strange,

You being a man so settled in assurance

Will fall in that which you condemned in other.

MORE

Well, Master Suresby, there’s your purse again,

And all your money. Fear nothing of More.

Wisdom still ( ) the door.

[Exeunt]