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 shining, 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_).