A monologue from the play by Josephine Preston Peabody

  • NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from Marlowe: A Drama in Five Acts. Josephine Preston Peabody. New York: Houghton Mifflin & Co., 1901.
  • BAME: Thou hast my meaning. When I spoke of this,
    She gave me such a smile as I dare vow
    Thou never hadst, and promised me to come;
    Begged me to bring her to see Benet here,
    That same 'old hostess that was kind to her.'
    I go to meet her at the waterside,
    Since this is all of London she would see!--
    'T is Marlowe--Marlowe--and thou knowest well
    The maid is pining for him. Ay, by heaven,
    Waiting to catch a grain of news, as pigeons
    Flutter and flock to peck a lentil up.
    She treasures every word that folk let fall
    About these players,--covering her ears
    To words that mar as true word only can;
    Denying all with shudders; and sometimes,--
    The music that he taught her--
    The man made merry for an hour with charming her,
    A hunter, weary of his fowling-piece
    Until to-morrow! But the charm has worked.
    She dare not breathe till he shall come and say
    Breathe so, or so. She lives not in to-day.
    I tell you more. He shall not have the girl
    Though I'm on my way to bring her to the Gardens
    Yonder, 'to see the shows.'