The Spy of Venice by Brandreth, Benet -- Read -- Imperial Library of Trantor

Index

Cover Title Page Contents Dedication Dramatis Personae Scenes A Note to the Reader Prologue What news on the Rialto? Act One

My youth hath faulty wandered The suburbs of his good pleasure A tun of man The Yeoman of the Wardrobe Cakes and ale Spending your wit in the praise of mine Vows made in wine My thoughts are ripe in mischief A critic, nay, a night-watch constable The play’s the thing Voice verses of feigning love A-horseback, ye cuckoo Imagination of some great exploit Hot hounds and hardy chase them at the heels Many Jasons come in quest of her Unmannerly boy Rich gifts wax poor ‘Poor deer,’ quoth he, ‘thou makest a testament’

Interlude

I would think thee a most princely hypocrite

Act Two

Such welcome and unwelcome things at once A long-tongued, babbling gossip? No, lords, no According to the statute of the town With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope Live scandalised and foully spoken of Their best conscience is not to leave’t undone, but keep’t unknown ... most capricious poet, honest Ovid How now? A rat? And, by that destiny, to perform an act Try what my credit can in Venice do Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels Known but by letter A man he is of honesty and trust Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds I think he hath a very fair warning To compass wonders but by help of devils Yet have I in me something dangerous I have seen Sackerson loose twenty times, and have taken him by the chain One man picked out of ten thousand Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady

Interlude

The instruments of darkness tell us truths

Act Three

Exeunt omnes A plague of sighing and grief The bubble reputation They say he has been fencer to the Sophy ... laid on twelve for nine ... little of this great world can I speak Burst of a battle The mistress court of mighty Europe Five most vile and ragged foils Goodnight sweet prince Upon the pikes o’ the hunters With what manners . . . Stands on a tickle point In the cup a spider steeped What may man within him hide The brief and the tedious of it

Interlude

Made him give battle to the lioness

Act Four

Speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice What is the city but the people? Defer no time; delays have dangerous ends ... three things that women highly hold in hate With surety stronger than Achilles’ arm A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men Honour, clock to itself Ne’er saw her match since first the world begun Scoff on, vile fiend and shameless courtesan Too hot, too hot! Let heaven see the pranks You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams Love all, trust a few By Heaven, I do love, and it hath taught me to rhyme As if, with Circe, she would change my shape! Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay If Cupid have not spent all his quiver in Venice The lunatic, the lover, and the poet With what great state A dateless bargain to engrossing death! What tidings, messenger? Be plain and brief Farewell, my masters; to my task will I For those thine eyes betray thee unto mine More than enough am I that vex thee still ... rather pluck on laughter than revenge Though the devil lead Both alike in virtue So keen and greedy to confound a man I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap and be buried in thy eyes Since night you loved me; yet since night you left me Subtle as the fox for prey Smile and smile and murder while I smile So mightily betrayed! So may the outward shows be least themselves True! Pow wow Every gash was an enemy’s grave To catch woodcocks! The world is still deceived with ornament You see this chase is hotly followed This would not be believed in Venice By th’ luckiest stars in heaven No more a rude mechanical Full of decay and failing? You spend your passion on a misprised mood That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, if with his tongue he cannot win a woman

Interlude

Trust not to rotten planks

Act Five

The strict court of Venice Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath Thus foolishly lost at a game of tick-tack Your jest is earnest Much more monstrous matter of feast The hope and expectation of thy time With Ate by his side Your beauty was the cause Is there no man here? Now follow – if thou darest – to try whose right of thine or mine is most in Helena The whirligig of time Why, here it is. Welcome these pleasant days! Made for kissing

Epilogue

To the latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast

Historical Note Extract from The Assassin of Veroan Acknowledgements Copyright

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