Thursday's Serial: "Edward II" by Christopher Marlowe (in English) - VI

Niece. The grief for his exile was not so much

   As is the joy of his returning home.

   This letter came from my sweet Gaveston:

   What need'st thou, love, thus to excuse thyself?

   I know thou couldst not come and visit me. [Reads.

   I will not long be from thee, though I die;—

   This argues the entire love of my lord;— [Reads.

   When I forsake thee, death seize on my heart!—

   But stay thee here where Gaveston shall sleep.

                                       [Puts the letter into her bosom.

   Now to the letter of my lord the king:

   He wills me to repair unto the court,

   And meet my Gaveston: why do I stay,

   Seeing that he talks thus of my marriage day?—

   Who's there? Baldock!

   See that my coach be ready; I must hence.

Baldock. It shall be done, madam.

Niece. And meet me at the park-pale presently [Exit Baldock.

   Spenser, stay you, and bear me company,

   For I have joyful news to tell thee of;

   My lord of Cornwall is a-coming over,

   And will be at the court as soon as we.

Younger Spencer. I knew the king would have him home again.

Niece. If all things sort out, as I hope they will,

   Thy service, Spenser, shall be thought upon.

Younger Spencer. I humbly thank your ladyship.

Niece. Come, lead the way: I long till I am there. [Exeunt.

Enter KING EDWARD, QUEEN ISABELLA, KENT, LANCASTER, the younger MORTIMER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, and Attendants.

King Edward. The wind is good; I wonder why he stays:

   I fear me he is wreck'd upon the sea.

Queen Isabella. Look, Lancaster, how passionate he is,

   And still his mind runs on his minion!

Lancaster. My lord,—

King Edward. How now! what news? is Gaveston arriv'd?

Young Mortimer. Nothing but Gaveston! what means your grace?

   You have matters of more weight to think upon:

   The King of France sets foot in Normandy.

King Edward. A trifle! we'll expel him when we please.

   But tell me, Mortimer, what's thy device

   Against the stately triumph we decreed?

Young Mortimer. A homely one, my lord, not worth the telling.

King Edward. Pray thee, let me know it.

Young Mortimer. But, seeing you are so desirous, thus it is;

   A lofty cedar tree, fair flourishing,

   On whose top branches kingly eagles perch,

   And by the bark a canker creeps me up,

   And gets unto the highest bough of all;

   The motto, Æque tandem.

King Edward. And what is yours, my Lord of Lancaster?

Lancaster. My lord, mine's more obscure than Mortimer's.

   Pliny reports, there is a flying-fish

   Which all the other fishes deadly hate,

   And therefore, being pursu'd, it takes the air:

   No sooner is it up, but there's a fowl

   That seizeth it: this fish, my lord, I bear;

   The motto this, Undique mors est.

Kent. Proud Mortimer! ungentle Lancaster!

   Is this the love you bear your sovereign?

   Is this the fruit your reconcilement bears?

   Can you in words make show of amity,

   And in your shields display your rancorous minds?

   What call you this but private libelling

   Against the Earl of Cornwall and my brother?

Queen Isabella. Sweet husband, be content; they all love you.

King Edward. They love me not that hate my Gaveston.

   I am that cedar; shake me not too much;

   And you the eagles; soar ye ne'er so high,

   I have the jesses that will pull you down;

   And Æque tandem shall that canker cry

   Unto the proudest peer of Britainy.

   Thou that compar'st him to a flying-fish,

   And threaten'st death whether he rise or fall,

   'Tis not the hugest monster of the sea,

   Nor foulest harpy, that shall swallow him.

Young Mortimer. If in his absence thus he favours him,

   What will he do whenas he shall be present?

Lancaster. That shall we see: look, where his lordship come!

Enter GAVESTON.

King Edward. My Gaveston! Welcome to Tynmouth! Welcome to thy friend! Thy absence made me droop and pine away; For, as the lovers of fair Danaë, When she was lock'd up in a brazen tower, Desir'd her more, and wax'd outrageous, So did it fare with me: and now thy sight Is sweeter far than was thy parting hence Bitter and irksome to my sobbing heart.

Gaveston. Sweet lord and king, your speech preventeth mine; Yet have I words left to express my joy: The shepherd, nipt with biting winter's rage, Frolics not more to see the painted spring Than I do to behold your majesty.

King Edward. Will none of you salute my Gaveston?

Lancaster. Salute him! yes.—Welcome, Lord Chamberlain!

Young Mortimer. Welcome is the good Earl of Cornwall!

Warwick. Welcome, Lord Governor of the Isle of Man!

Pembroke. Welcome, Master Secretary!

Kent. Brother, do you hear them?

King Edward. Still will these earls and barons use me thus?

Gaveston. My lord, I cannot brook these injuries.

Queen Isabella. Ay me, poor soul, when these begin to jar! [Aside.

King Edward. Return it to their throats; I'll be thy warrant.

Gaveston. Base, leaden earls, that glory in your birth, Go sit at home, and eat your tenants' beef; And come not here to scoff at Gaveston, Whose mounting thoughts did never creep so low As to bestow a look on such as you.

Lancaster. Yet I disdain not to do this for you. [Draws his sword, and offers to stab Gaveston.

King Edward. Treason! treason! where's the traitor?

Pembroke. Here, here!

King Edward. Convey hence Gaveston; they'll murder him.

Gaveston. The life of thee shall salve this foul disgrace.

Young Mortimer. Villain, thy life! unless I miss mine aim. [Wounds Gaveston.

Queen Isabella. Ah, furious Mortimer, what hast thou done.

Young Mortimer. No more than I would answer, were he slain.

[Exit Gaveston with Attendants.

King Edward. Yes, more than thou canst answer, though he live: Dear shall you both abide this riotous deed: Out of my presence! come not near the court.

Young Mortimer. I'll not be barr'd the court for Gaveston.

Lancaster. We'll hale him by the ears unto the block.

King Edward. Look to your own heads; his is sure enough.

Warwick. Look to your own crown, if you back him thus.

Kent. Warwick, these words do ill beseem thy years.

King Edward. Nay, all of them conspire to cross me thus: But, if I live, I'll tread upon their heads That think with high looks thus to tread me down. Come, Edmund, let's away, and levy men: 'Tis war that must abate these barons' pride.

[Exeunt King Edward, Queen Isabella, and Kent.

Warwick. Let's to our castles, for the king is mov'd.

Young Mortimer. Mov'd may he be, and perish in his wrath!

Lancaster. Cousin, it is no dealing with him now; He means to make us stoop by force of arms: And therefore let us jointly here protest To prosecute that Gaveston to the death.

Young Mortimer. By heaven, the abject villain shall not live! Warwick. I'll have his blood, or die in seeking it.

Pembroke. The like oath Pembroke takes.

Lancaster. And so doth Lancaster. Now send our heralds to defy the king; And make the people swear to put him down.

Enter a Messenger.

Young Mortimer. Letters! from whence?

Messenger. From Scotland, my lord.

[Giving letters to Mortimer.

Lancaster. Why, how now, cousin! how fare all our friends?

Young Mortimer. My uncle's taken prisoner by the Scots.

Lancaster. We'll have him ransom'd, man: be of good cheer.

Young Mortimer. They rate his ransom at five thousand pound. Who should defray the money but the king, Seeing he is taken prisoner in his wars? I'll to the king.

Lancaster. Do, cousin, and I'll bear thee company.

Warwick. Meantime my Lord of Pembroke and myself Will to Newcastle here, and gather head.

Young Mortimer. About it, then, and we will follow you.

Lancaster. Be resolute and full of secrecy.

Warwick. I warrant you.

[Exit with Pembroke.

Young Mortimer. Cousin, an if he will not ransom him, I'll thunder such a peal into his ears As never subject did unto his king.

Lancaster. Content; I'll bear my part.—Hollo! who's there?

Enter Guard.

Young Mortimer. Ay, marry, such a guard as this doth well. Lancaster. Lead on the way.

Guard. Whither will your lordships?

Young Mortimer. Whither else but to the king?

Guard. His highness is dispos'd to be alone.

Lancaster. Why, so he may; but we will speak to him.

Guard. You may not in, my lord.

Young Mortimer. May we not?

Enter KING EDWARD and KENT.

Good Radings: "The Brother and the Sister " by Aesop ()translated into English

     A father had one son and one daughter, the former remarkable for his good looks, the latter for her extraordinary ugliness. While they were playing one day as children, they happened by chance to look together into a mirror that was placed on their mother's chair. The boy congratulated himself on his good looks; the girl grew angry, and could not bear the self-praises of her Brother, interpreting all he said (and how could she do otherwise?) into reflection on herself. She ran off to her father  to be avenged on her Brother, and spitefully accused him of having, as a boy, made use of that which belonged only to girls. The father embraced them both, and bestowing his kisses and affection impartially on each, said, "I wish you both would look into the mirror every day:  you, my son, that you may not spoil your beauty by evil conduct; and you, my daughter, that you may make up for your lack of beauty by your virtues." 

Tuesday's Serial: "BEN-HUR: a tale of the Christ." by Lew Wallace - XV (in English)

BOOK FOURTH

  "Alva.   Should the monarch prove unjust -

  And, at this time -

  Queen.         Then I must wait for justice

  Until it come; and they are happiest far

  Whose consciences may calmly wait their right."

                       Schiller, Don Carlos (act iv., sc. xv.)

CHAPTER I

                The month to which we now come is July, the year that of our Lord 29, and the place Antioch, then Queen of the East, and next to Rome the strongest, if not the most populous, city in the world.

                There is an opinion that the extravagance and dissoluteness of the age had their origin in Rome, and spread thence throughout the empire; that the great cities but reflected the manners of their mistress on the Tiber. This may be doubted. The reaction of the conquest would seem to have been upon the morals of the conqueror. In Greece she found a spring of corruption; so also in Egypt; and the student, having exhausted the subject, will close the books assured that the flow of the demoralizing river was from the East westwardly, and that this very city of Antioch, one of the oldest seats of Assyrian power and splendor, was a principal source of the deadly stream.

                A transport galley entered the mouth of the river Orontes from the blue waters of the sea. It was in the forenoon. The heat was great, yet all on board who could avail themselves of the privilege were on deck - Ben-Hur among others.

                The five years had brought the young Jew to perfect manhood. Though the robe of white linen in which he was attired somewhat masked his form, his appearance was unusually attractive. For an hour and more he had occupied a seat in the shade of the sail, and in that time several fellow-passengers of his own nationality had tried to engage him in conversation, but without avail. His replies to their questions had been brief, though gravely courteous, and in the Latin tongue. The purity of his speech, his cultivated manners, his reticence, served to stimulate their curiosity the more. Such as observed him closely were struck by an incongruity between his demeanor, which had the ease and grace of a patrician, and certain points of his person. Thus his arms were disproportionately long; and when, to steady himself against the motion of the vessel, he took hold of anything near by, the size of his hands and their evident power compelled remark; so the wonder who and what he was mixed continually with a wish to know the particulars of his life. In other words, his air cannot be better described than as a notice - This man has a story to tell.

                The galley, in coming, had stopped at one of the ports of Cyprus, and picked up a Hebrew of most respectable appearance, quiet, reserved, paternal. Ben-Hur ventured to ask him some questions; the replies won his confidence, and resulted finally in an extended conversation.

                It chanced also that as the galley from Cyprus entered the receiving bay of the Orontes, two other vessels which had been sighted out in the sea met it and passed into the river at the same time; and as they did so both the strangers threw out small flags of brightest yellow. There was much conjecture as to the meaning of the signals. At length a passenger addressed himself to the respectable Hebrew for information upon the subject.

                "Yes, I know the meaning of the flags," he replied; "they do not signify nationality - they are merely marks of ownership."

                "Has the owner many ships?"

                "He has."

                "You know him?"

                "I have dealt with him."

                The passengers looked at the speaker as if requesting him to go on. Ben-Hur listened with interest.

                "He lives in Antioch," the Hebrew continued, in his quiet way. "That he is vastly rich has brought him into notice, and the talk about him is not always kind. There used to be in Jerusalem a prince of very ancient family named Hur."

                Judah strove to be composed, yet his heart beat quicker.

                "The prince was a merchant, with a genius for business. He set on foot many enterprises, some reaching far East, others West. In the great cities he had branch houses. The one in Antioch was in charge of a man said by some to have been a family servant called Simonides, Greek in name, yet an Israelite. The master was drowned at sea. His business, however, went on, and was scarcely less prosperous. After a while misfortune overtook the family. The prince's only son, nearly grown, tried to kill the procurator Gratus in one of the streets of Jerusalem. He failed by a narrow chance, and has not since been heard of. In fact, the Roman's rage took in the whole house - not one of the name was left alive. Their palace was sealed up, and is now a rookery for pigeons; the estate was confiscated; everything that could be traced to the ownership of the Hurs was confiscated. The procurator cured his hurt with a golden salve."

                The passengers laughed.

                "You mean he kept the property," said one of them.

                "They say so," the Hebrew replied; "I am only telling a story as I received it. And, to go on, Simonides, who had been the prince's agent here in Antioch, opened trade in a short time on his own account, and in a space incredibly brief became the master merchant of the city. In imitation of his master, he sent caravans to India; and on the sea at present he has galleys enough to make a royal fleet. They say nothing goes amiss with him. His camels do not die, except of old age; his ships never founder; if he throw a chip into the river, it will come back to him gold."

                "How long has he been going on thus?"

                "Not ten years."

                "He must have had a good start."

"Yes, they say the procurator took only the prince's property ready at hand - his horses, cattle, houses, land, vessels, goods. The money could not be found, though there must have been vast sums of it. What became of it has been an unsolved mystery."

                "Not to me," said a passenger, with a sneer.

                "I understand you," the Hebrew answered. "Others have had your idea. That it furnished old Simonides his start is a common belief. The procurator is of that opinion - or he has been - for twice in five years he has caught the merchant, and put him to torture."

                Judah griped the rope he was holding with crushing force.

                "It is said," the narrator continued, "that there is not a sound bone in the man's body. The last time I saw him he sat in a chair, a shapeless cripple, propped against cushions."

                "So tortured!" exclaimed several listeners in a breath.

                "Disease could not have produced such a deformity. Still the suffering made no impression upon him. All he had was his lawfully, and he was making lawful use of it - that was the most they wrung from him. Now, however, he is past persecution. He has a license to trade signed by Tiberius himself."

                "He paid roundly for it, I warrant."

                "These ships are his," the Hebrew continued, passing the remark. "It is a custom among his sailors to salute each other upon meeting by throwing out yellow flags, sight of which is as much as to say, 'We have had a fortunate voyage.'"

                The story ended there.

                When the transport was fairly in the channel of the river, Judah spoke to the Hebrew.

                "What was the name of the merchant's master?"

                "Ben-Hur, Prince of Jerusalem."

                "What became of the prince's family?"

                "The boy was sent to the galleys. I may say he is dead. One year is the ordinary limit of life under that sentence. The widow and daughter have not been heard of; those who know what became of them will not speak. They died doubtless in the cells of one of the castles which spot the waysides of Judea."

                Judah walked to the pilot's quarter. So absorbed was he in thought that he scarcely noticed the shores of the river, which from sea to city were surpassingly beautiful with orchards of all the Syrian fruits and vines, clustered about villas rich as those of Neapolis. No more did he observe the vessels passing in an endless fleet, nor hear the singing and shouting of the sailors, some in labor, some in merriment. The sky was full of sunlight, lying in hazy warmth upon the land and the water; nowhere except over his life was there a shadow.

                Once only he awoke to a momentary interest, and that was when some one pointed out the Grove of Daphne, discernible from a bend in the river.

CHAPTER II

                When the city came into view, the passengers were on deck, eager that nothing of the scene might escape them. The respectable Jew already introduced to the reader was the principal spokesman.

                "The river here runs to the west," he said, in the way of general answer. "I remember when it washed the base of the walls; but as Roman subjects we have lived in peace, and, as always happens in such times, trade has had its will; now the whole river front is taken up with wharves and docks. Yonder" - the speaker pointed southward -”is Mount Casius, or, as these people love to call it, the Mountains of Orontes, looking across to its brother Amnus in the north; and between them lies the Plain of Antioch. Farther on are the Black Mountains, whence the Ducts of the Kings bring the purest water to wash the thirsty streets and people; yet they are forests in wilderness state, dense, and full of birds and beasts."

                "Where is the lake?" one asked.

                "Over north there. You can take horse, if you wish to see it - or, better, a boat, for a tributary connects it with the river."

                "The Grove of Daphne!" he said, to a third inquirer. "Nobody can describe it; only beware! It was begun by Apollo, and completed by him. He prefers it to Olympus. People go there for one look - just one - and never come away. They have a saying which tells it all - 'Better be a worm and feed on the mulberries of Daphne than a king's guest.'"

                "Then you advise me to stay away from it?"

                "Not I! Go you will. Everybody goes, cynic philosopher, virile boy, women, and priests - all go. So sure am I of what you will do that I assume to advise you. Do not take quarters in the city - that will be loss of time; but go at once to the village in the edge of the grove. The way is through a garden, under the spray of fountains. The lovers of the god and his Penaean maid built the town; and in its porticos and paths and thousand retreats you will find characters and habits and sweets and kinds elsewhere impossible. But the wall of the city! there it is, the masterpiece of Xeraeus, the master of mural architecture."

                All eyes followed his pointing finger.

                "This part was raised by order of the first of the Seleucidae. Three hundred years have made it part of the rock it rests upon."

                The defense justified the encomium. High, solid, and with many bold angles, it curved southwardly out of view.

                "On the top there are four hundred towers, each a reservoir of water," the Hebrew continued. "Look now! Over the wall, tall as it is, see in the distance two hills, which you may know as the rival crests of Sulpius. The structure on the farthest one is the citadel, garrisoned all the year round by a Roman legion. Opposite it this way rises the Temple of Jupiter, and under that the front of the legate's residence - a palace full of offices, and yet a fortress against which a mob would dash harmlessly as a south wind."

                At this point the sailors began taking in sail, whereupon the Hebrew exclaimed, heartily, "See! you who hate the sea, and you who have vows, get ready your curses and your prayers. The bridge yonder, over which the road to Seleucia is carried, marks the limit of navigation. What the ship unloads for further transit, the camel takes up there. Above the bridge begins the island upon which Calinicus built his new city, connecting it with five great viaducts so solid time has made no impression upon them, nor floods nor earthquakes. Of the main town, my friends, I have only to say you will be happier all your lives for having seen it."

                As he concluded, the ship turned and made slowly for her wharf under the wall, bringing even more fairly to view the life with which the river at that point was possessed. Finally, the lines were thrown, the oars shipped, and the voyage was done. Then Ben-Hur sought the respectable Hebrew.

                "Let me trouble you a moment before saying farewell."

                The man bowed assent.

                "Your story of the merchant has made me curious to see him. You called him Simonides?"

                "Yes. He is a Jew with a Greek name."

                "Where is he to be found?"

                The acquaintance gave a sharp look before he answered,

                "I may save you mortification. He is not a money-lender."

                "Nor am I a money-borrower," said Ben-Hur, smiling at the other's shrewdness.

                The man raised his head and considered an instant.

                "One would think," he then replied, "that the richest merchant in Antioch would have a house for business corresponding to his wealth; but if you would find him in the day, follow the river to yon bridge, under which he quarters in a building that looks like a buttress of the wall. Before the door there is an immense landing, always covered with cargoes come and to go. The fleet that lies moored there is his. You cannot fail to find him."

                "I give you thanks."

                "The peace of our fathers go with you."

                "And with you."

                With that they separated.

                Two street-porters, loaded with his baggage, received Ben-Hur's orders upon the wharf.

                "To the citadel," he said; a direction which implied an official military connection.

                Two great streets, cutting each other at right angles, divided the city into quarters. A curious and immense structure, called the Nymphaeum, arose at the foot of the one running north and south. When the porters turned south there, the new-comer, though fresh from Rome, was amazed at the magnificence of the avenue. On the right and left there were palaces, and between them extended indefinitely double colonnades of marble, leaving separate ways for footmen, beasts, and chariots; the whole under shade, and cooled by fountains of incessant flow.

                Ben-Hur was not in mood to enjoy the spectacle. The story of Simonides haunted him. Arrived at the Omphalus - a monument of four arches wide as the streets, superbly illustrated, and erected to himself by Epiphanes, the eighth of the Seleucidae - he suddenly changed his mind.

                "I will not go to the citadel to-night," he said to the porters. "Take me to the khan nearest the bridge on the road to Seleucia."

                The party faced about, and in good time he was deposited in a public house of primitive but ample construction, within stone's-throw of the bridge under which old Simonides had his quarters. He lay upon the house-top through the night. In his inner mind lived the thought, "Now - now I will hear of home - and mother - and the dear little Tirzah. If they are on earth, I will find them."

               

Monday's Illustrated Word: "First Kiss Me" by Unknown Writter (in English)

unknown artist -  in All True Romance #2 - Comic Media - October, 1951.

Good Readings: "O Cometa" by Gonçalves Dias (in Portuguese)

Eis nos céus rutilando ígneo cometa!
A imensa cabeleira o espaço alastra,
E o núcleo, como um sol tingido em sangue,
Alvacento luzir verte agoireiro
Sobre a pávida terra.
Poderosos do mundo, grandes, povo,
Dos lábios removei a taça ingente,
Que em vossas festas gira; eis que rutila
O sangüíneo cometa em céus infindos!...
Pobres mortais, - sois vermes!
O Senhor o formou terrível, grande;
Como indócil corcel que morde o freio,
Retinha-o só a mão do Onipotente.
Ao fim lhe disse: - Vai, Senhor dos Mundos,
Senhor do espaço infindo.
E qual louco temido, ardendo em fúria,
Que ao vento solta a coma desgrenhada,
E vai, néscio de si, livre de ferros,
De encontro às duras rochas, - tal progride
O cometa incansável.
Se na marcha veloz encontra um mundo,
O mundo em mil pedaços se converte;
Mil centelhas de luz brilham no espaço
A esmo, como um tronco pelas vagas
Infrenes combatido.
Se junto doutro mundo acaso passa,
Consigo o arrasta e leva transformado;
A cauda portentosa o enlaça e prende,
E o astro vai com ele, como argueiro
Em turbilhão levado.
Como Leviatã perturba os mares,
Ele perturba o espaço; - como a lava,
Ele marcha incessante e sempre; - eterno,
Marcou-lhe largo giro a lei que o rege,
- Às vezes o infinito.
Ele carece então da eternidade!
E aos homens diz - e majestoso e grande
Que jamais o verão; e passa, e longe
Se entranha em céus sem fim, como se perde
Um barco no horizonte!

Friday's Sung Word: "Crioulo sambista" by Synval Silva (in Portuguese)

music by Nelson Trigueiro.

Quase todo crioulo do morro é sambista
Toda mulata bonita é artista
Desempenha diversos papéis sozinha
À noite, ela samba no morro
De dia ela enfrenta a cozinha

Trata bem o sinhô branco
Bem melhor a sinhazinha
À noite traz um jogo de marmita
Com arroz de forno e galinha
O crioulo espera sempre
Lá no morro a rainha
Ela não da importância
Ao zum zum zum da Candinha.

 You can listen "Crioulo Sambista" sung by Ronaldo Gonçalves here.