Friday 30 May 2008 photo 6/17
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Christopher Marlowe
26 februari (dopdag) 1564 - 30 maj 1593
The lodging of Tom Nashe was in Southwark. Kit found him there, dashed down his leathern bag, sat heavily on the tousled bed. He said:
- Brightness falls from the air. Does that have a meaning?
- It was meant to be hair, not air. To most there is no difference. The less a meaning can be ascribed the better the poetry.
- Yes, yes. Shadowing more beauty in their airy brows Than have the white breast of the queen of love. Meaning above meaning. So meaning means little.
- Where do you come from?
- A hanging and drawing. I did not stay for the quartering.
- Martin Marprelate, yes, I heard it was to be today. Well, I did no more than vilify him in those plays already forgotten. Do we all bear blame for the poor wretches that are given a lesson in anatomy before dying?
- Penry missed his lesson. He is now embracing the Lord Jesus in a kind of spiritual physicality. What have you to drink?
- Sour wine. Have you money?
Kit counted what was in his purse. £1 11s 5d. It would not take him far. He asked: May I stay here the night? I must be at Deptford tomorrow.
- You are welcome to the floor and a blanket. And a bundle of books for a pillow. You travel?
- That is to be seen. We can afford a bottle of something. But I must be sober in the morning.
Cheese and bread and some shallots in aliger. And some Rhenish.
- I taste Robin Greene's death when I drink Rhenish, Tom Nashe said. Is he too embracing Jesus Christ? The stink of his breath must be a handicap. But of course he is now purified.
- And so the less Robin Greene. Is there truly anything after?
- You are the divinity scholar.
- To be dissolved in elements. To lose all that is or was Christopher Marlowe. I have a great name, though not many call me by it. I bear Christ on my back. And who or what is Christ?
- A fine poem, though burdened with too much meaning. The only true meaning is syntax.
- There is a fine heresy.
- Heresy pushes us forward. Church and State drag us back. Now you may report me to the Privy Council.
- So we hang together.
- Brightness falls from the air. That could be Lucifer or Icarus. Or both in one. But it’s also greying tresses.
- Grey hair is a privilege. The badge of him who survives.
- Pretty countryfolk survive. And grave senators with influence. I know of no greyheaded poets.
- The dissolution will be a relief.
- You are gloomy, Kit. Drink, Christopher.
26 februari (dopdag) 1564 - 30 maj 1593
The lodging of Tom Nashe was in Southwark. Kit found him there, dashed down his leathern bag, sat heavily on the tousled bed. He said:
- Brightness falls from the air. Does that have a meaning?
- It was meant to be hair, not air. To most there is no difference. The less a meaning can be ascribed the better the poetry.
- Yes, yes. Shadowing more beauty in their airy brows Than have the white breast of the queen of love. Meaning above meaning. So meaning means little.
- Where do you come from?
- A hanging and drawing. I did not stay for the quartering.
- Martin Marprelate, yes, I heard it was to be today. Well, I did no more than vilify him in those plays already forgotten. Do we all bear blame for the poor wretches that are given a lesson in anatomy before dying?
- Penry missed his lesson. He is now embracing the Lord Jesus in a kind of spiritual physicality. What have you to drink?
- Sour wine. Have you money?
Kit counted what was in his purse. £1 11s 5d. It would not take him far. He asked: May I stay here the night? I must be at Deptford tomorrow.
- You are welcome to the floor and a blanket. And a bundle of books for a pillow. You travel?
- That is to be seen. We can afford a bottle of something. But I must be sober in the morning.
- And so the less Robin Greene. Is there truly anything after?
- You are the divinity scholar.
- To be dissolved in elements. To lose all that is or was Christopher Marlowe. I have a great name, though not many call me by it. I bear Christ on my back. And who or what is Christ?
- A fine poem, though burdened with too much meaning. The only true meaning is syntax.
- There is a fine heresy.
- Heresy pushes us forward. Church and State drag us back. Now you may report me to the Privy Council.
- So we hang together.
- Brightness falls from the air. That could be Lucifer or Icarus. Or both in one. But it’s also greying tresses.
- Grey hair is a privilege. The badge of him who survives.
- Pretty countryfolk survive. And grave senators with influence. I know of no greyheaded poets.
- The dissolution will be a relief.
- You are gloomy, Kit. Drink, Christopher.