The Works of Christopher Marlowe - Volume III Part 53
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Volume III Part 53

So--let us have more wine, then!

HEYWOOD.

Spirit enough Springs from thee, Master Marlowe--what need more.

MARLOWE.

Drawer! lift up thy leaden poppy-head!

Up man!--where art? The night seems wondrous hot!

(MARLOWE _throws open a side window that reaches down to the floor, and stands there, looking out._)

HEYWOOD (_to_ MIDDLETON).

The air flows in upon his heated face, And he grows pale with looking at the stars; Thinking the while of many things in heaven.

MIDDLETON.

And some one on the earth--as fair to him-- For, lo you!--is't not she?

(_Pointing towards the open window_.)

HEYWOOD.

The lady, folded In the long mantle, coming down the street?

MIDDLETON.

Let be; we cannot help him.

(HEYWOOD _and_ MIDDLETON _retire apart_--CECILIA _is pa.s.sing by the open window_.)

MARLOWE.

Stay awhile!-- One moment stay!

CECILIA (_pausing_).

That is not much to ask.

(_She steps in through the window_.)

MARLOWE.

Nor much for you to grant; but O, to me That moment is a circle without bounds,-- Because I see no end to my delight!

CECILIA.

O, sir, you make me very sad at heart; Let's speak no more of this. I am on my way To walk beside the river.

MARLOWE.

May I come?

CECILIA.

Ah, no; I'll go alone.

MARLOWE.

'Tis dark and dismal; Nor do I deem it safe!

CECILIA.

What can harm _me_?

If not above, at least I am beyond All common dangers. No, you shall not come.

I have some questions I would ask myself; And in the sullen, melancholy flow O' the unromantic Thames, that has been witness Of many tragical realities, Bare of adornment as its cold stone stairs, I may find sympathy, if not response.

MARLOWE.

You find both here. I know thy real life; We do not see the truth--or, O, how little!

Pure light sometimes through painted windows streams; And, when all's dark around thee, thou art fair!

Thou bear'st within an ever-burning lamp, To me more sacred than a vestal's shrine; For she may be of heartless chast.i.ty, False in all else, and proud of her poor ice, As though 'twere fire suppress'd; but thou art good For goodness' sake;--true-hearted, lovable, For truth and honour's sake; and such a woman, That man who wins, the G.o.ds themselves may envy.

CECILIA (_going_).

Considering all things, this is bitter sweet.

MARLOWE.

And I may come? (_following her_)

CECILIA (_firmly_).

You shall not.

MARLOWE.

I obey you.

CECILIA (_tenderly_).

Ah! Kit Marlowe,-- You think too much of me--and of yourself Too little!

MARLOWE.

Then I may----(_advancing_)

CECILIA (_firmly_).