The Broken Heart E-Book

John Ford

• Herausgeber: E-BOOKARAMA
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

John Ford is known to have written numerous plays during the reigns of James I (1603-1625) and Charles I (1625-1649), although only eight have survived. Their somewhat morbid and violent character speaks in part to the growing social tensions in the years before the English Revolution of 1640, which would lead to the execution of Charles nine years later.

"The Broken Heart" (written between 1625 and 1633) is laid in ancient Greece and its complex narrative revolves around Amyclas, king of Sparta, his daughter Calantha and their royal court. Commentators suggest that the court of Charles I might more appropriately be considered the play’s real setting.

The action begins as Orgilus prepares to depart Sparta for Athens. He's leaving his home country because he can no longer stand to see Penthea, the woman to whom he was once betrothed, married to the abusive and jealous Bassanes. Orgilus also believes that once he has left, Bassanes' irrational behaviour, inspired by the fear that his wife will cheat on him, might abate, giving Penthea, who married her husband, not for love, but at the command of her ambitious brother Ithocles, a more tolerable existence.

Orgilus does not, however, leave Sparta, but merely disguises himself as a student of the philosopher Tecnicus, so that he can keep an eye not only on Penthea, but also his sister Euphrania. She falls in love with Ithocles' best friend, Prophilus, even as Ithcoles finds himself passionately fixated on Calantha, the daughter of the ailing Spartan King...

Leseprobe

John Ford

The Broken Heart

Table of contents

THE BROKEN HEART

The Speakers´ Names Fitted to their Qualities

Prologue

ACT I

ACT II

ACT III

ACT IV

ACT V

The Epilogue

THE BROKEN HEART

John Ford

The Speakers´ Names Fitted to their Qualities

Amyclas, Common to the Kings of Laconia.

Ithocles, Honour of loveliness, a Favourite.

Orgilus, Angry, son to Crotolon.

Bassanes, Vexation, a jealous Nobleman.

Armostes, an Appeaser, a Councillor of State.

Crotolon, Noise, another Councillor.

Prophilus, Dear, Friend to Ithocles.

Nearchus, Young Prince, Prince of Argos.

Tecnicus, Artist, a Philosopher.

Hemophil, Glutton, Groneas, Tavern-haunter, two Courtiers.

Amelus, Trusty, Friend to Nearchus.

Phulas, Watchful, Servant to Bassanes.

Calantha, Flower of beauty, the King’s Daughter.

Penthea, Complaint, Sister to Ithocles [and Wife to Bassanes].

Euphranea, Joy, a Maid of honour [Daughter to Crotolon].

Christalla, Christal, and Philema, A Kiss, Maids of honour.

Grausis, Old Beldam, Overseer of Penthea.

Persons included:

Theasus, Fierceness, Father of Ithocles.

Aplotes, Simplicity, Orgilus so disguised.

Lords, Courtiers, Officers, Attendants, etc.

SCENE— Sparta.

Prologue

OUR scene is Sparta. He whose best of art hath drawn this piece calls it THE BROKEN HEART. The title lends no expectation here Of apish laughter, or of some lame jeer At place or persons; no pretended clause Of jests fit for a brothel courts applause From vulgar admiration: such low songs, Tun’d to unchaste ears, suit not modest tongues. The Virgin Sisters then deserv’d fresh bays When Innocence and Sweetness crown’d their lays; Then vices gasp’d for breath, whose whole commerce Was whipp’d to exile by unblushing verse. This law we keep in our presentment now, Not to take freedom more than we allow; What may be here thought fiction, when time’s youth Wanted some riper years, was known a truth: In which, if words have cloth’d the subject right, You may partake a pity with delight.

ACT I

SCENE I.

A room in Crotolon’s house.

Enter Crotolon and Orgilus.

Crotolon. Dally not further; I will know the reason That speeds thee to this journey.

Orgilus. Reason! good sir, I can yield many.

Crotolon. Give me one, a good one; Such I expect, and ere we part must have. Athens! Pray, why to Athens? You intend not To kick against the world, turn cynic, stoic, Or read the logic lecture, or become An Areopagite, 4 and judge in cases Touching the commonwealth; for, as I take it, The budding of your chin cannot prognosticate So grave an honour.

Orgilus. All this I acknowledge.

Crotolon. You do! Then, son, if books and love of knowledge Inflame you to this travel, here in Sparta You may as freely study.

Orgilus. ’T is not that, sir.

Crotolon. Not that, sir! As a father, I command thee To acquaint me with the truth.

Orgilus. Thus I obey ye. After so many quarrels as dissension, Fury, and rage had broacht in blood, and sometimes With death to such confederates as sided With now-dead Thrasus and yourself, my lord; Our present king, Amyclas, reconcil’d Your eager swords and seal’d a gentle peace: Friends you profest yourselves; which to confirm, A resolution for a lasting league Betwixt your families was entertain’d, By joining in a Hymenean bond Me and the fair Penthea, only daughter To Thrasus.

Crotolon. What of this?

Orgilus. Much, much, dear sir. A freedom of converse, an interchange Of holy and chaste love, so fixt our souls In a firm growth of union, that no time Can eat into the pledge: we had enjoy’d The sweets our vows expected, had not cruelty Prevented all those triumphs we prepar’d for, By Thrasus his untimely death.

Crotolon. Most certain.

Orgilus. From this time sprouted up that poisonous stalk Of aconite, whose ripened fruit hath ravisht All health, all comfort of a happy life; For Ithocles, her brother, proud of youth, And prouder in his power, nourisht closely The memory of former discontents, To glory in revenge. By cunning partly, Partly by threats, ’a woos at once and forces His virtuous sister to admit a marriage With Bassanes, a nobleman, in honour And riches, I confess, beyond my fortunes.

Crotolon. All this is no sound reason to importune My leave for thy departure.

Orgilus. Now it follows. Beauteous Penthea, wedded to this torture By an insulting brother, being secretly Compell’d to yield her virgin freedom up To him who never can usurp her heart, Before contracted mine, is now so yok’d To a most barbarous thraldrom, misery, Affliction, that he savours not humanity, Whose sorrow melts not into more than pity In hearing but her name.

Crotolon. As how, pray?

Orgilus. Bassanes, The man that calls her wife, considers truly What heaven of perfections he is lord of By thinking fair Penthea his: this thought Begets a kind of monster-love, which love Is nurse unto a fear so strong and servile As brands all dotage with a jealousy: All eyes who gaze upon that shrine of beauty He doth resolve 1 do homage to the miracle; Some one, he is assur’d, may now or then, If opportunity but sort, 2 prevail. So much, out of a self-unworthiness, His fears transport him; not that he finds cause In her obedience, but his own distrust.

Crotolon. You spin out your discourse.

Orgilus. My griefs are violent: For knowing how the maid was heretofore Courted by me, his jealousies grow wild That I should steal again into her favours, And undermine her virtues; which the gods Know I nor dare nor dream of. Hence, from hence I undertake a voluntary exile; First, by my absence to take off the cares Of jealous Bassanes; but chiefly, sir, To free Penthea from a hell on earth; Lastly, to lose the memory of something Her presence makes to live in me afresh.

Crotolon. Enough, my Orgilus, enough. To Athens, I give a full consent. — Alas, good lady! — We shall hear from thee often?

Orgilus. Often.

Crotolon. See, Thy sister comes to give a farewell.

Enter Euphranea.

Euphranea. Brother!

Orgilus. Euphranea, thus upon thy cheeks I print A brother’s kiss; more careful of thine honour, Thy health, and thy well-doing, than my life. Before we part, in presence of our father, I must prefer a suit t’ ye.

Euphranea. You may style it, My brother, a command.

Orgilus. That you will promise To pass never to any man, however Worthy, your faith, till, with our father’s leave, I give a free consent.

Crotolon. An easy motion! I’ll promise for her, Orgilus.

Orgilus. Your pardon; Euphranea’s oath must yield me satisfaction.

Euphranea. By Vesta’s sacred fires I swear.

Crotolon. And I, By Great Apollo’s beams, join in the vow, Not without thy allowance to bestow her On any living.

Orgilus. Dear Euphranea, Mistake me not: far, far ’t is from my thought, As far from any wish of mine, to hinder Preferment to an honourable bed Or fitting fortune; thou art young and handsome; And ’t were injustice, — more, a tyranny, — Not to advance thy merit. Trust me, sister, It shall be my first care to see thee match’d As may become thy choice and our contents. I have your oath.

Euphranea. You have. But mean you, brother, To leave us, as you say?

Crotolon. Ay, ay, Euphranea; He has just grounds direct him. I will prove A father and a brother to thee.

Euphranea. Heaven Does look into the secrets of all hearts: Gods, you have mercy with ye, else —

Crotolon. Doubt nothing; Thy brother will return in safety to us.

Orgilus. Souls sunk in sorrows never are without ’em. They change fresh airs, but bear their griefs about ’em.

Exeunt omnes.

4 A member of the Areopagus, the highest judicial court in Athens.

1 Decide

2 Agree.

SCENE II.

A room in the palace.

Flourish. Enter Amyclas the King, Armostes, Prophilus, [Courtiers,] and Attendants.

Amyclas. The Spartan gods are gracious; our humility Shall bend before their altars, and perfume Their temples with abundant sacrifice. See, lords, Amyclas, your old king, is ent’ring Into his youth again! I shall shake off This silver badge of age, and change this snow For hairs as gay as are Apollo’s locks; Our heart leaps in new vigour.

Armostes. May old time Run back to double your long life, great sir!