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DUKE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Treasure "Room 
 
THE 
 
 WORKS 
 
 O F 
 
 Mr. Francis Beaumont^ 
 
 AND 
 
 Mr. John Fletcher. 
 
 IN TEN VOLUMES. 
 
 Collated with all the former Editions, 
 and Corredled. 
 
 With Notes Critical and Explanatory. 
 
 B Y 
 
 The late Mr. THEOBALD, 
 
 Mr. S E WA RD of Eyam in Derfyfi/re, 
 
 AND 
 
 Mr. S TMP S O N of Gainsborough. 
 
 JU 
 
 LONDON: 
 Printed for J. and R. Ton son and S. Draper 
 
 in the Strand. 
 
 M D C C L. 
 
£ 
 THE ^BS'-'-M 
 
 WORKS 
 
 o F 
 
 Mr. Francis Beaumont^ 
 
 AND 
 
 Mr. John Fletcher. 
 
 VOLUME THE FIRST. 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 T'he Maid'j Tragedy. 
 Philaster; or,LovE /;Vy ^Bleeding. 
 -^ K I N G a7td ;w K I N g. 
 
 AND 
 
 The Scornful Lady. 
 
 Printed wider the InfpeBion of Mr. Theobald. 
 
 L N B O N\ 
 
 Printed^ for J. and R. Ton son and S. Draper. 
 
 in the Strand. 
 
 M D C C L. 
 
To the Right Honourable 
 
 WILLOUGHBY 
 
 Earl ^/Abingdon, 
 
 Baron Norreys ip/'Rycot, 
 
 The following Plays of the jullly celebrated Writers 
 
 Mr. Beaumont and Mr. Fletcher, 
 Are humbly Infcribed and Dedicated, 
 
 As a grateful Teftimony of the many and great Favours 
 conferr'd by his Lordfhip, 
 
 Upon his much oblig'd 
 and very humble Servant, 
 
 John Sympson. 
 
 f^»>« I ^VA 
 

 P R E F A C E, 
 
 By r. SEWARD. 
 
 ir^-^%rz^ -\ H E Public at length receives a new 
 Edition of the two great Poets^ who, 
 witli a Fate in each cafe alike unjail, 
 were extoU'd for near a Century after 
 their Deaths, as Equals'^ Rivals^ nay, 
 Superiorsio the immortal Shakejpear-, 
 but in the prefent Age have been dcprefs'd beneath 
 the fmooth-polilned enervate IfTue of the Modern 
 Drama. And as their Fame has been fo different 
 with refcedt to other Poets, fo has it varied alfo be- 
 tween Themfelves. Fletcher was a while fuppofed 
 unable to rife to any Height of Eminence, had not 
 Beaumo?ifs ftronger Arm bore him upwards. Yet 
 no fooner had he loft that Aid, and dcmonftrated 
 that it was Delight and Love, not Necefhty, which 
 made him foar abrcajl with his amiable Friend ; 
 but the ftill injurious World began to flrip the Plumes 
 from Beaumont^ and to drefs Fletcher in the whole 
 Fame, leaving to the former nothing but the mere 
 Pru?iifig o^ Fletcher's luxuriant Wit, the Lijnce Labor ^ 
 V o L, I. a 3 the. 
 
 S'J'BISS 
 
VI 
 
 PR E F A C E. 
 
 the Thimmet and the jR«/f, but neither the PA///, 
 Materials^ Compofit'ion^ or Ornaments. This is di- 
 redlly allerted in Mr. Cartwright\ Commendatory 
 Poem on Fletcher. 
 
 Who therefore ijolfcly did fubmit each Birth 
 
 jTo knowing Beaumont e'er it did come forth y 
 
 Working again until he f aid, 'twas fit, 
 
 And made him the Sobriety of his Wit. 
 
 ^ho" thus he caWd his Judge into his Fame, 
 
 And for that Aid allow' d him half the Name, ^c. 
 
 See Cartiuright's Poem below. 
 
 Mr. Harris, in his Commendatory Poem, makes 
 Beaumont a mere deadweight hanging on the Boughs 
 of Fletcher's Palm. 
 
 — ■ - When thou didft fit 
 
 But as a joint Commijjioner in Wit -, 
 When it had Plummets hung on fofiipprefs 
 Its too luxuriant growifig Mightinefs. 
 *Till as that Tree which fcorns to be kept down, 
 Thou grew" ft to govern the whole Stage alone. 
 
 I believe this cxtrem: iy injurious to Beaumont ; but 
 as the Opinion, or fomcthing like it, has hved for 
 Ages, and is frequent at this Day, it is time at 
 lengch to reftore Beaumont to the full Rank of Fel- 
 lowffiip which he pulTcfs'd wlien living, and to fix 
 the Standard of their rcfpedive Merits, before we 
 fliew the* Degice in which their united Fame ought 
 to be placed on the BritiJJo Theatre. 
 
 Mr. Cartwright and Mr. Harris wrote thirty Years 
 after Beaumonf^ Death, and twenty after Fletcher's, j 
 
 and 
 
P R E F A C E. vii 
 
 and none of the numerous contemporary Poems, 
 publiflied with theirs before the firft Folio Edition 
 of our Authors, degrade Beaiw207Jt fo very low as 
 thefe. Sir JoJo?! Berkenhead allows him a full Moiety 
 of the Fame, but feems to think his Genius more 
 turned to grave Sublimity than to Sprightlinefs of 
 Imagination. 
 
 Fletcher'5 keen Treble, and deep Beaumont'j Bafe. 
 
 Thus has this Line of Sir yohn's been hitherto read 
 and underflood, but its Authenticity in this Light will 
 be difputed when we come to that Poem, and the 
 Juftnefs of the Charadler at prefent. We have 
 among the Commendatory Poems, One of Mr. 
 Earle's wrote immediately after Beaiunojjfs Death, 
 and ten Years before Fletcher s : He feems to have 
 been an Acquaintance as well as Contemporary, and 
 his Teftimony ought to have much more Weight 
 than all the Traditional Opinions of thofe who wrote 
 thirty Years after. He afcribes to Beaiwiont three 
 firft-rate Plays ; T^he Maid's Tragedy^ Fhilafler^ and 
 ^he King and No-King. The lirfi: of thefe has a 
 grave Sublimity mingled with more Ho?'ror and Fury 
 than are frequently ktn among the gay-fpirited Scenes 
 oi Fletcher y and probably gave rife to the report of 
 Beaumont's deep Bafe. But there is fcarce a more 
 lively-fpirited Charadier in all their Plays than Phi- 
 lafler^ and I believe Beaumont aimed at drawing a 
 Hamlet racked with Othello's Love and Jealoufy. 
 Tlje King a?id No King too is extremely fpirited in 
 all its Characters ; Arbaccs holds up a Mirrour to all 
 Men of virtuous Principles but violent Pajjions : 
 Hence he is as it were at once Alagnanimity and 
 Pndej Patience and Furyy Gentlcnc/s and Rigour, 
 
 a 4 Chnjiity 
 
vlii PREFACE. 
 
 Chaftity and Inceft, and is one of the finefl- Mixture 
 of Virtues and Vices that any Poet has drawn, except 
 the Hot-fpiir of Shake/pear, and the imptger\ ira^ 
 cunduSy i?2exorabiUsj acer^ of Homer. (For a De- 
 fence of this Charailer againft Mr. Rhy7ner'^ Cavils, 
 fee Note the 2d in T^he King and No King,) Beffia 
 and his two Swordfmcn in this Play are infinitely the 
 livelieft Comic Charadlers of mere bragging Cowards 
 which we have in our Language j and if they do not 
 upon the whole equal the extenfive and inimitable 
 Humours of FaJfiaff 2S\^ his Co77ipaniom, they leave 
 all other Charaders of the fame Species, ev'n Shake- 
 /pear's own Parolles far behind them. 
 
 Our excellent Congnve has confolidated the two 
 Sword/men to form his Captain Bluff. And be it 
 his Honour to have imitated fo well, tho' he is far 
 from reaching the Originals. Beaumont lived in the 
 Age of Duelling upon every flight Puncftilio. Con- 
 greve wrote his Bluff in the Flanders War : Times 
 when a Braggart was the molt ridiculous of all Cha- 
 racters J and fo far was Beaumont from the fuppofed 
 grave folemn Tragic Poet only, that Comic Hu?nour^ 
 particularly in drav/ing Cowardife, feems his peculiar 
 Talent. For the Spirit of Bejfus paulum 7nutatuSy 
 chang'd only fo as to give a proper Novelty of 
 Charadler, appears again in Ihe Nice Valour., or Paf-- 
 Jionate Madman. The Traces of the fame Hand, 
 fo ftrongly mark'd in this Play, ftrike a new Light 
 upon Beaumonfs Character, For in a Letter to ^on~ 
 fony printed at the end of The Nice Valom\ Vol. X. 
 pag. 36^;. he fpeaks of himfelf not as a mere Cor- 
 rehor of others Works, but as a Poet of acknow- 
 ledg'd Eminence, and of The Nice Valour ^ and 
 fome other Comedy, (which tlie Publifher of the 
 
 fccond 
 
PREFACE. ix 
 
 fecond Folio * took, for the Woman-Hater) as his 
 Plays (which muft be underflcod indeed as chiefly 
 his, not excluding F/f/f/^^-r's Affiftance.) Nowthele 
 two Plays totally differ in their Manner from all that 
 Fletcher wrote alone: They confill; not of Charac^ters 
 from real Life, as Fletcher and Shakefpcar draw 
 theirs, but of PaJJions and Humours perJomzW., as 
 Cowardife in Lapet^ Nice Honour in Sha??wnt, the 
 Madnefs of different Paffions in The Madtnan^ the 
 Love of nice Eating in hazarlllo., the Hate of Wo- 
 tncn in Gonderlno, This i^yojifojisMaftner , to whom 
 in the Letter quoted above, Bcaufnont indeed ac- 
 knowledges that he owed it. 
 
 Fate once a^aln 
 
 Brlfig me to thee^ who canft make fmooth and plain 
 
 The way of Knowledge for mCy and then I 
 
 Who have no good but In thy Company ^ 
 
 Proteft It will ?ny greateji Comfort be 
 
 T' acknowledge all I have to flow from Thee. 
 
 Ben, when the fe Scenes are perfect we'll tafle Wine: 
 
 Til drink thy Mufes Healthy thou foalt quaff nilne, 
 
 * The Publifhers of the fecond Folio added fevera! genuine Song?, 
 Prologues, Epilogue?, and fome Lines in particular Plays rot contained 
 in any former Edition, which, by the Account given, they perhaps got 
 from either nn old Ador, or a Playhoufe-Prompter ; they fay, from a 
 Gentleman who had been intimate with both the Authors, they probably 
 were direi^ed by Lights received fiom him to place ne Woman-Hater 
 direftly before 'The Nice Valcur, and to make this the other Play which 
 Beaumont claims. The Little French Lai}:yer^ and The Knight of the 
 Burning ?efile, are moft certainly two Plays which Beaumont hr.d a large 
 Share in, for his Hand is very vifible in the extreme droll Charafter of 
 The French Laivyer v/ho runs Duello — mcd ; the Prologue talks of tl.e 
 Juthors in the Plural Number, and the Strain of high Burlcfque appears 
 very fimilar in the two Charaders of Laxarillo in The Woman-Hater, and 
 Balpho in The Burninq^ Pffile. Beauvtnnt^s Name too is put lirll in the 
 Title-page of tl.e f.rll ^arto of this laft Play, publiflied a tew Yea;s 
 Sihc- Fletcher's Death. 
 
 ' ' ' Docs 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 Does Jofifcfi (who is faid conftantly to have con- 
 fulted Beaumont^ and to have paid the greateft De- 
 ference to his Judgment) does he, I fay, treat him 
 in his Anfwer as a meer Critic^ and Judge of others 
 Works only ? No, but as an eminent Poet^ whom 
 he lov'd with a Zeal enough to kindle a Love to 
 his Memory, as long as Poetry delights the Under- 
 flanding, or Friendfhip warms the Heart. 
 
 How I do love thee^ Beaumont, and tJjy Mufe^ 
 
 T^hat unto me doftfuch Religion life ! 
 
 How I do fear myfelf that am not worth 
 
 ^he leaf indulgent Thought thy Ten drops forth ! 
 
 See the Remainder of this Poem III. of the Com- 
 mendatory Verfes j fee alfo the fr/i of thefe Poems 
 by Beaumont himfclf, the Clofe of which will fuffi- 
 ciently confirm both his Vigour of Imagination and 
 Sprightli7iefs of Humour. Having thus, we hope, 
 difpers'd the Cloud that for Ages has darken'd Beau- 
 mcnf?, Fame, let it again fhine in full Luftre Bri- 
 tannics Sidus alt crura et Dccus gemellum. And let us 
 now examine the Order and Magnitude of this Poetic 
 Confdlation^ and view the joint Characters of BeaU" 
 mont and Fletcher, 
 
 Thefe Authors are in a direct Mf^w bet ween Shake f- 
 pear and "Jonfon^ they do not reach the amazing Rapi- 
 dity and immortal Plights of the former, but they foar 
 v/ith morcEafe and to nobler Heights than the latter; 
 They have lefs of the O^ magna fonans^ the Vivida Vis 
 A?iimi, xhQJiobleEnthufiafm^ihc Mufe of Fire^ the/^r- 
 rible Graces of Shakefpear^ but they have much more 
 of all thefe than 'Jonfon. On the other hand, in Litera- 
 ture they much excel the former, and are excell'd by 
 
 the 
 
PREFACE. XX 
 
 the latter j and therefore they are more regular in 
 their Plots and more correB in their Sentiments and 
 DiBion than Shakefpear, but leis fo than Jonfon. 
 Thus far Beaumont and Fletcher are O;;^, but as 
 hinted above in this they differ ; Beaumont ftudied 
 and foUow'd Jojifori'^ Manner, perfoniz'd the Paf- 
 Jions and drew Nature in her Extremes ; Fletcher 
 follow'd Shakefpcar and Nature in her z//^/^/ Dr^ 
 (this DiftinBion only holds with regard to their 
 C<?w/V Works ^ for in Tragedies they all chiefly paint 
 from real Life.) Which oi i\\t(c Mawiers is moft 
 excellent may be difficult to fay j the former feems 
 moft firiking^ the latter more pleajing^ iht former 
 fliews Vice and Folly in the moft ridiculous Lights, 
 the latter more fully fhews each Man himfelf, and 
 unlocks the inmoft RecefTes of the Heart. 
 
 Great are the Names of the various Mafters who 
 follow'd the one and the other Manfier. yonfon^ 
 Beaumont and Molicre lift on one Side; Terejice^ 
 Shakefpear and Fletcher on the other. 
 
 But to return to our Duujjwirate, between whom 
 two other fmall Differences are obfervable. Beau- 
 mont ^ as appears by various Tejiimonies and chiefly 
 by his ov/n Letter prefixed to the old Folio Edition 
 of Chaucer^ was a hard Student; and for one whom 
 the World loft before he was thirty^ had a furprifing 
 Compafs of Literature : Fletcher was 2i polite rather 
 than a deep Scholar^ and converfed with Men at lead 
 as much as with Books. Hence the ga\ Sprightlinejs 
 and natural Eafe of his young Gentleman are al- 
 low'd to be inimitable ; in thefe he has been pre- 
 ferred by Judges of Candour even to Shakefpear 
 himfelf If i^<f^//;;;<5«/ does not equal him in this, 
 yet being by his Fortune converfant alfo in high 
 Life (the Son of a Judc^e, as the other of a Diftiop) 
 
xii PREFACE. 
 
 He is in this too alter ab illo, a good ficcnd^ and al- 
 moll 2l fecond jelf\ as Fhilafler^ Amintor, Bacurius 
 in the three firft Plays, Count Valore^ Oria?ia^ Cleric 
 mont., Valentine^ and others evidently fhew. 
 
 This fmall Difference obferv'd, another appears by 
 no means limiUr to it : Beaumont., we faid, chiefly 
 iludied Booh and Jonfon ; Fletcher, Nature and 
 Shake/pear, yet lb far was the Jirji from follow- 
 ing his Friend and Mafier in his frequent clofe and 
 almoftfervile Imitadons of the ancient ClaJficSy that 
 he feems to have hr.d a much greater Confidence in 
 the Fertility and Richnefs of his own Imagination 
 than even Fletcher himfelf : The latter in his 
 Maficrpiece, The Faithful Shepherdefs, frequently 
 imitates Iheocritus and Virgil -^ in Rollo has taken 
 whole Scenes from Seneca, and almoft whole Ads 
 from hue an in 'I he Falje One. I do not blame 
 him for this, his Imitations have not the Stifnefsy 
 which fometimes appears (tho' not often) in jfonJoUy 
 but breathe the free and full Air of Originals ; and 
 accordingly Rollo and * The Falfe One are two of 
 Fletcher s Firft-rate Plays. But Beaumont, I be- 
 lieve, never condefcendcd to tranfiate and rarely to 
 imitate ; However largely he was fupplied with 
 Claffic Streams, from his own Urn all flows pure 
 and untinBurcd, Here the two Friends change 
 Places : Beaumont ri/es in Merit towards Shakejpear, 
 and Fletcher defcends towards Jonfon. 
 
 * Rollo is in the firft Edition in Quarto afcribed to Fletcher alone, 
 TheFaljc Or:e is oneof thofe Plays tlut is more dubious as to its Authors. 
 The Prologue fpeaks ot them in the Plural Number and 'tis probable 
 th:.t Beaumont afiifted in the latter Part of it, but I believe not much 
 in the two firft Afts, as thefe are To very much taken from LucatZy 
 and the Obfervation of Beaumont's not indulging himfelf in fuch Li- 
 berties holds good in all the Phiys in which he is known to liave had 
 theUrgcit Shure. 
 
 Having 
 
PREFACE. xiii 
 
 Having thus feen the Features of thefe Twins of 
 Poetry greatly refembling yet ftill diftindl from each 
 other, let us conclude that all Repoits which fepa- 
 rate and lellen tb© Fame of either of them are ill- 
 grounded and falfe, that they were as Sir John 
 Berketihead calls them, two full congenial Sotilsy or, 
 as either Fletcher himfelf, or his IHII greater Col' 
 legue Sbakefpear exprefles it in their Two Nobk 
 Ki?if?}ie?i. Vol. X. p. 33. 
 
 They were an endlefs Mine to one another ; 
 TJjey were each others Wife, ever begetting 
 New Births of Wit, 
 
 They were both extremely remarkable for their 
 ready Flow of Wit in Co?iverfation as well as Com- 
 fo/itionj and Gentlemen that remcmbred them, fays 
 Shirhy declare that on every Occafion they talk'd a 
 Comedy. As therefore they were fo twiiin'd in GeniiiSy 
 Worth and Wit , Jo lovely atid plcafafit in their Lives^ 
 after Death, let not their Fame be ever again divided. 
 
 And now, Reader, when thou art hrcd into Rage 
 or melted into Pity by their Tragic Scenes, charmed 
 with the genteel Elegance or burlHng into Laughter 
 at their Comic Humour, canll thou not drop the in- 
 tervening Ages, ileal into fonjon, Beauf?iofif and 
 Fletcher's Club-Room at the Mer-Maid, on a Night 
 when Shakefp'ar, Donn and others viiited them, and 
 there join in Society with as great Wits as ever this 
 Nation, or perhaps ever Greece or Rome could at one 
 time boaft ? where animated each by the other's 
 Prcfence, they even excell'd themfelves -, 
 
 ' ' For Wit is like a Refl, 
 
 Held up at Tennis, which Men do the hejl 
 
 JVith 
 
xiv PREFACE. 
 
 f , 
 
 With the heft Gamcftejs. What things have ivefecn 
 
 Done at the Mer-maid ! heard Words that have been 
 
 So nimble and Jo full of fubtle Flame ^ 
 
 As if that every one from whence they came 
 
 Had meant to put his whole Wit in a Jell, 
 
 A7id had refolv'd to live a Fool the reft 
 
 Of his dull Life -J then when there hath been thrown 
 
 Wit able enough to juftify the Town 
 
 For three Dayspajl ; Wit that tnight Warrant be 
 
 For the whole City to talk foolijhly 
 
 Till that were cancelVd ; and when that was gone 
 
 We lejt an Air behind us, which alone 
 
 Was able to tnake the two next Companies 
 
 "Right witty 'j tho' but dow?iright Vooh, meerWife. 
 
 Beau?7iQnt''z Letter to jf on/on, Vol. x. p. 366. 
 
 Hitherto the Reider has received only the Por^ 
 traits of our Authors without any Proof of the Si- 
 militude and Juftice of the Draught j nor can we 
 hope that it will appear juft from a mere curfory 
 View of the Originals. Many People read Plays 
 chiefly for the fake of the Plot, hurrying ftill on for 
 that Difcovery. The happy Contrivance of furpriiing 
 but natural Incidents is certainly a very great Beauty 
 in the Drama, and little Writers have often made 
 their Advantages of it ; they could contrive Lici- 
 dents to embarrafs and perplex the Plot, and by 
 that alone have fucceeded and pleafed, without 
 perhaps a fingle Line of ?iervous Poetry, a fingle 
 Sentiment worthy of Memory, without a Pafjion 
 worked up with natural Vigour^ or a Cha- 
 
 rad:er 
 
PREFACE. XV 
 
 rader of any diftinguifhed Marks. The beft Poc^fs 
 have rarely made this Dramatic Mechanifm their 
 Point. Neither Sophocles^ Euripides, Terence, 
 Sbakefpear, Beaumont, Fletcher or Jo?ifon, are at 
 all reinarkable for forming a Labyrinth of Incidents 
 and entangling their Readers in ^pleajing Perplexity : 
 Oar late Dramatic Poets learnt this from the French, 
 and they from Romance Writers and Ncvclifts. We 
 could aim oft wiOi the Readers of Beaumont and 
 Fletcher to drop the Expedation of the Event of 
 each Story, to attend v^^ith more Care to the Beauty 
 and Energy of the Sentiments, Di6iion, PaJJiom 
 and CharaSiers. Every good Author pleafes more, 
 the more he is examined ; (hence perhaps that 
 Partiality of Editors to their own Authors ; by a 
 more intimate Acquaintance, they difcover more of 
 their Beauties than they do of others) efpecially 
 when the Stile and Manner are quite old-fajlnonedy 
 and the Beauties hid under the Uncouthnefs of the 
 Drefs. The Tafte and Fafl^ion of Poetry varies in 
 every Age, and tho' our old Dramatic Writers arc as 
 preferable to the Modern as Vandike and Rubens to 
 our Modern Painters, yet moft Eyes muft be ac- 
 cuAomcd to their Manner before they can difcern 
 their Excellencies. Thus the very beft Plays of 
 Shakefpear were forced to be drellcd fafnioyiahly by 
 the Poetic Taylors of the late Ages before they could 
 be admitted upon the Stage, aiid a very few Years 
 fince his Comedies in general were under the higheft 
 Contempt. Few very few durft fpeak of them 
 with any fort of Regard, till the many excellent 
 Cnticifms upon that Author made People ftudv 
 him, and fome excellent ABors revived thefe 
 Comedies, which compleatly open'd Mens Eyes, 
 
XVI 
 
 P R E F A C E. 
 
 and it is now become as fafimiable to admire as it 
 had been to decry them. 
 
 Shake fpear therefore even in his fecond-befl Man- 
 ner being now generally admired, we (liall endea- 
 vour to prove that his fecond-ratc and our Author's 
 jirfi-rate Beauties are fo near upon a Par that they 
 are fcarce diftinguifhable. A Preface allows not 
 Room for fufficient Proofs of this, but we will pro- 
 duce at leaft fome Parallels of Poetic DiBion and 
 Sentimejits^ and refer to fome of the CharaSlers and 
 TaJJions. 
 
 The Inftances fliall be divided into three ClafTes : 
 The firft of Paflages where our Authors fall fhort in 
 comparifon of Shakefpear y the fecond of fuch as 
 are not eafily difcerned from him j the third of 
 thofe where Beaumont and Fletcher have the Ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 In ^he Maid's Tragedy there is a limilar Paflage to 
 one of Shakefpear^ the Comparifon of which alone 
 will be no bad Scale to judge of their different Ex- 
 cellencies. Melaj2tius the General thus fpeaks of his 
 Friend Amintor, 
 
 His Worth is great ^ valiant he is and temperate ^ 
 And one that never thinks his Life his own 
 If his Friend need it : When he was a Boy 
 As oft as I returned (as, without hoafi 
 I brought hojjie Conqueji) he would gaze upon me. 
 And view me round, to f fid in what one Limb 
 The Virtue lay to do thofe things he heard : 
 Then would He wifi to fee my Sword, and feel 
 The ^icknefs of the Edge, and in his Hand 
 Weigh it, — He oft would make me fmile at this -, 
 
 His 
 
PREFACE. xvii 
 
 His Toiith did promife miicl\ and bis ripe jige 
 Will fee it all performed. 
 
 Vol. I, pag. 5. 
 
 A Youth gazing on every Limb of the victorious 
 Chief, then begging his Sword, feeling its Edge, and 
 poifing it in his Arm, are Attitudes nobly exprclTive 
 of the inward Ardor and Ecilacy of Soul ; But what 
 is mofl obfervable is, 
 
 " ^A?id i?j bis Hand 
 Weigb it He oft, &c. 
 
 By this beautiful Paufe or Break, the ASlion and 
 Pidlure continue in View, and the Poet, like Ho?ner, 
 is eloquent in Silence. It is a Species of Beauty that 
 (liews an Intimacy with that Father of Poetry^ in 
 whom it occurs extremely often*. Milton has an ex- 
 ceeding fine one in the Defcription of his Lazar» 
 Houfe. 
 
 — ' • • ■■ "Defpair 
 
 'Tended t be Sick, bufiefi from Couch to Couch ^ 
 
 And over them triumpba?it Death his Dart 
 
 Shook J — but delayed to fir ike, &cc. 
 
 Paradife loji. Book II. lin.492." 
 
 As Shakefpear did not ftudy Verfification fo much as 
 thofe Poets who were converfant in Homer and Vir^ 
 gil, I don't remember in him any ftriking Inftance 
 of this Species of Beauty. But he even wanted it 
 not, his Sentiments are fo amazingly flriking, that 
 they pierce the Heart at oncej and Diciion and 
 Numbers, which are the Beauty and Nerves adorn- 
 ing and invigorating the 'Thoughts of other Poets, to 
 
 * See two noble Inftances at /. 141. of the i ■^ihBooiof the //;'<3</, and 
 in the Application of tUe fame Simile a few Lines below. 
 
 Vol. I. b him 
 
xviii PR E F A C E. 
 
 him are but like the Bodies of Angels ^ azure Vehicles ^ 
 thro' which the whole Soul lliines tranfparent. Of 
 this take the following Inflance. The old Belarius 
 in Cymheline is defcribing the in-born Royalty of the 
 two Princes whom he had bred up as Peafants in his 
 Cave. 
 
 — -■ . T^his Paladour, (whom 
 
 The liing his Father call'd Guiderius) Jove ! 
 When on my three-foot Stool I ft, and tell 
 The warlike Feats Tve done, his Spirits fly out 
 Into my Story : fay thus mine Efiemy fell, 
 A?id thuslfet my Foot on's Neck — even then 
 The Princely Blood flows in his Cheek, he fw eats. 
 Strains his young Nerves, and puts himfelf in 
 
 Pojlure 
 That a^s my Words, — ; 
 
 Cymheline, A61III. Scene 3. 
 
 Much the fame Difference as between thefe two 
 Paffages occurs likewife in the following Piftures of 
 Rural Melancholy, the firft of Innocence forlorn^ the 
 fecond of Philofophic Tendernefs. 
 
 I have a Boy 
 
 Sent by the Gods I hope to this Intent, 
 
 Not yet feen in the Court. Hunting the Buck 
 
 I found him fitting by a Fountain-fide, 
 
 Of which he borrowed fome to quench hisThirfl, 
 
 And paid the Nymph again as much in Tears j 
 
 A Garland lay by him, made by himfelf 
 
 Of many fever al Flowers, bred in the Bay, 
 
 Stuck 
 
P R E F A C E, xix 
 
 Stuck in that myftic Order that the Rarenefi 
 Delighted me : but ever when he turrCd 
 His tender Eyes upon them, he would weep. 
 As if he meant to make them grow again. 
 Seeing fuch pretty helplcfs Innocence 
 Dwell in his Face, I ask'd him all his Story -, 
 He toldmc, that his Parents gentle died. 
 Leaving him to the Mercy of the Fields, 
 Which gave him Roots, and of the Cryfial Springs 
 Which did 7iot flop their Courfes j and the Sun 
 Which fill he thanUd him, yielded him his Light, 
 'Then took he up his Garland, and didfiew. 
 What every Flower, as Country People holdy 
 I Didfignify ; and how all, ordered thus, 
 ' Expref his Grief; and to my Thoughts did read 
 The prettieft Le^ure of his Couiitry Art 
 That could be wiflo'd, fo that meihought I could 
 Have ftudied it . — Philafler, Vol.1, p. io8. 
 
 faques in As you like it is Moralizi?ig upon the 
 Fate of the Deer goared by the Hunters in their 
 native Confines, , 
 
 The melancholy Jaques grieves at that. 
 
 To Day my Lord of Amiens and myfelf 
 Didfeal behind hijn, as he lay along 
 Under an Oak, who fc antique Root peeps out 
 Upon the Brook that brawls along this Wood; 
 To the which Place a poor fcquefiered Stag, 
 That from the Hunter's Aim had ta'en a Hurt, 
 
 b 2 Did 
 
XX PREFACE. 
 
 Did come to languipd ; and indeed^ My Lord, 
 I'he ivr etched Am?iial hea'u' d forth fiich Groans^ 
 ^hat their Difcharge did Jirctch his leathern Coat 
 Ahnojl to burjiing j and the big round Tears 
 Cours'd one a?2Gther down his innocent Nofe 
 In piteous Cbafe ; and thus the hairy Fool 
 Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, 
 Stood- on tlf extremejl Verge oj the fwift Brook, 
 Augmenting it with Tears. 
 
 Duke. But what f aid ]2.qut%} 
 Did he not moralize this Spectacle f 
 
 I Lord. O yes into a thoufand Similies. 
 Tirjiy for his weeping in the needlefs Stream-, 
 Poor Deer, quoth he, thou mak'Jl a Teftamenf 
 As Worldings do, giving thy Sum of more 
 5n? that which had too much j then being aJotje 
 Left and abandoned by his Velvet Frie?ids : 
 *Tis right, quoth he, thus Mifery doth part 
 The Flux of Compajiy : anon a carelejs Herd, 
 Full of the Pajiure, jumps along by him, . 
 And never ft ays to greet him: ay, quoth Jaques, 
 Sweep on ye fat and greafie Citizens^ 
 'Tisjiift the Fajhion, &c. 
 
 As you like it, Aa 11. Scene I. 
 
 Shaliefpear is certainly much preferable, but *tls 
 only as a Raphael is preferable to a Guido — Philafter 
 alone would afford Numbers of Paflages limilar to 
 lome of Shake fpear'^, upon which the fame Ob- 
 fervation will hold true, they are not equal to his 
 very bcfi Manner, but they approach near it. As I 
 have mentioned Jotifon being in Poetic Energy 
 
 about 
 
P R E FA C E. XXI 
 
 about the fame Diflance below onr Authors, as 
 Shakcfpear is above them. I ihall quote three Paflages 
 which feem to me in this very ^cak. 'Jonfon tranflates 
 verbatim from ^alufi great part of Caiilrne's Speech 
 to his Soldiers, but adds in the Clofe : 
 
 Methinks^ I fee Death and the Furies ivaiting 
 What we will do -, a7id all the Heaven at leafure 
 For the great SpeBacle. Draw the?i your Swords : 
 Jljid if our Deftiny e?ivy our Virtue] 
 'The Honour of the Day, yet let us care 
 To fell ourf elves at fuch a P?'ice, as may 
 Undo the V/orld to buy us ; and make Fate 
 While fie tempts ours to fear her own Efate. 
 
 Catiline, AG. V. 
 
 Jonfon has here added greatly to the Ferocity, Ter- 
 ror and Defpair of Catiline\ Speech, but it is con- 
 fonant to his Chara6ler both in his Life and Death. 
 The Image in the three firfl Lines is extremely 
 noble, and may be faid to emulate tho' not quite 
 to reach the poetic Exftacy of the following Paffage 
 in Bonduca. Suetonius the Roman General havinp- 
 his fmall Army hem'd round by Multitudes, tells 
 his Soldiers that the Number of the Foes, 
 
 Is but to fiick more Honour on your ABions^ 
 Load you with virtuous Names, and to your 
 
 Memories 
 Tie never-dying Time and Fortune conftant. 
 Go on in full Affurance, draw your Swords 
 As daring and as confident as J u (lice. 
 The Gods of Rome fight for ye j loud Fame calls ye 
 
 b 3 Fitch'd 
 
xxli PR E FACE. 
 
 pitched on the toplcjs Apennine, ajid blows 
 *To all the under Worlds all Nations, Seas, 
 And unfrequented Defarts inhere the Snow dwells i 
 JVakens the ruiiid Monuments, and there 
 Informs again * the dead Bones with your Virtues. 
 
 The four fiirA Lines are extremely nervous, but the 
 Image which appears to excel the noble one of 
 y on/on above, is Fame pitch 'd on Mount Apetinine 
 (whofeTop is fuppofed viewlefs from its flupendous 
 Height) and from thence founding their Virtues fo 
 loud that the dead awake and are re-animated to 
 hear them. The clofe of the Sentiment is ex- 
 tremely in the Spirit of Shakefpear and Milton, the 
 former fays of a Storm — 
 
 That with the Hurly 'Dt2^hitfelf awakes, 
 
 (See the Paffage from whence this Line is taken 
 compared to another of our Authors in Vol. IX. p. i o i 
 of this Edition.) Milton in Comus, defer ibing a Lady's 
 finging, fays J 
 
 * The dead Bones nxith your firfues-l As I was much engaged when 
 the Play of Bonduca was publifhed under Mr. SympforS Care, tho' I 
 had pointed this PafTage in the manner I here give it, I forgot to ac- 
 quaint him with it, and he follow'd the old Pointing, which I believe 
 wrong both here and in the Lines which follow it, they Hand thus. 
 
 ■■■ 'And there 
 
 Informs again the dead Bones. With your Firtuei 
 Go on, I fay: Faliant and ^:ife, rule Hea^vn, 
 And all the great A/pcSls attend ^em. 
 
 Here their Firtues, which fhou'd raife the dead to Life, are left to the 
 next Sentence ; and then they are call'd valiant and wife, and bid to 
 rule Heav'n, M'i:h which Senfe the remaining Part of the Sentence will 
 fcarce make Grammir. The Comma after ivife flioii'd be ftruck our, 
 for it is a Tranflition of the Latin Axiom Sapiens dominabitur Aftris ; 
 M^tfe Men rule Heaven, &c. If the Reader aflents, he is defired to 
 coj reft the Pointing. 
 
 Be 
 
PREFACE, xxiii 
 
 He took in Sounds that might create a Soul 
 Under the Ribs of Death. 
 
 To return to Sbakefpear-^Wlth Iiim we mud foar 
 fiir above the toplefs ^pe?inine, and there behold an 
 Imac!:e much nobler than our Author's Fame. 
 
 * For now Jits Expecflation in the Air, 
 And hides a Sword from Hilt unto the Point 
 With Crowns Imperial- 
 
 Chorus in Henry V. Aa II. Scene i . 
 
 As we fliall now go on to the fecond Clafs, and 
 quote PafHiges where the Hand of Shakefpear is not 
 fo eafily difcern'd from our Author's, if the Reader 
 happens to remember neither, it may be entertain- 
 ing to be left to guefs at the different Hands. Thus 
 each of them defcribing a beautiful Boy. 
 
 Dear Lad, believe it. 
 
 For they fo all yet belie thy happy Tears 
 
 That fay thou art a Man : Diana's Lip 
 
 L not more fmooth and rubious j thy fnall Pipe 
 
 * For no^v fits ExpeSIation, &c.] See Mr, Warburto?t' s ]^^ Ohkrvz- 
 tion on the Beauty of the Imagery here. But, as fimilar Beauties do 
 not always ftrike the fame Tafte alike, another Pafleige in this Play 
 that feems to deferve the fame Admiration is rejefted by this great 
 Man as not Shahrfpears. The French King fpeaking of the Black 
 Prince\ Vidory at CreJJy, fays. 
 
 While that his Mountain Sire, on Mountain y7<2«^/;zr, 
 
 •' Up in the Air crouond nvith the Golden Sun, 
 
 Saiv his Heroic Seed, and /mil* d to fe him 
 
 Mangle the Work of Nature. Henry V. Ac> II. Sc:n: 4. 
 
 I have mark'd the Line rejeacd," and which fecms to breathe th: fall 
 Sf.ul of Shike/pear. The Reader will find aDefencc and Explaiiuon 
 of the wliole i'afiage at Vol. X. p. 17.1. of this Ediaan. 
 
 bA Is 
 
xxiv PREFACE. 
 
 Is as the Maidens Organ yfirill^ and founds 
 
 And all is jemblative a Woman's Fart, 
 
 The other is 
 
 Alas ! 'what hind of Grief can thy Tears know ? 
 _ - ,, 
 
 ^'hy Brows and Cheeks are f in cot h as Waters be 
 
 When no Breath troubles them : Believe ;;;^, Boy^ 
 
 Care feeks out wrinkled Brews and hollow Eyes, 
 
 And builds hi mfef Caves to abide in them. 
 
 The one is in Philajler, Page i 18. The other in 
 Twelfth-Nighty Adt I. Scene 5.' — In the fame Page 
 of Philajlery there is a Defciiption of Love^ which 
 the Reader, if he pleafe^, may compare to two De- 
 fcriptions of Love in As you like it — both hy Silvia, 
 but neither preferable to our Author's. I cannot 
 quotchalf of thofe which occur in the Play of Phi- 
 lajier alone, which bear the fame Degree of Like- 
 nefs as the laft quoted Paffiiges, /. e. where the 
 Hands are fcarce to be diftinguillied ; but I will give 
 one Parallel more from thence, becaufe the Palfages 
 are both extremely fine, tho' the Hands from one 
 fingle Expreliion of Shakefpears are more vifible, 
 a Prince depriv'd of his Throne and betray 'd as he 
 thought in Love, thus mourns his melancholy State. 
 
 Oh ! that I had been nouriffd in thefe Woods 
 With Milk of Goats and Acorns, and not known 
 The Right of Crowns, or the diffembling Train 
 Of Wcmens Looks j but dig d my f elf a Cave, 
 * Where I, my Fire, my Cattle and my Bed, 
 Might have beenftmt together in 07ie Shed-, 
 
 * Jwvenal Sat. VI. 
 
 And 
 
PREFACE. XXV 
 
 j^jid thetj bad taken mefome Mountain Girly 
 Beaten 'with IVindsy chaji as the hardened Rocks 
 Whereon fie dwells \ that might havejlrew'dmy Bed 
 With Leaves and Reeds^ and with the Skins of 
 
 Beafts 
 Our Neighbours j a7id have born at her big Breafis 
 My large coarfe Iffue I 
 
 In the other, a King thus compares the State of 
 Royalty to that of a private Life. 
 
 No not all thefe thrice gorgeous Ceremonies^ 
 
 Not all thefe laid in Bed majefiical^ 
 
 Can Jleep fo Joundly as the wretched Slave -, 
 
 Who %vith a Body filled., and vacant Mind., 
 
 Gets him to Reji^ cramm'd with dijircfsful Bread; 
 
 Never fees horrid Night, the Child of Hell: 
 
 * But^ like a Lackey, from the Rife to Set^ 
 
 Sweats 
 
 * Bui, like a Lnckcy,'\ There is either a grofs Abfurdity, or a 
 great Difiiculty of Conftruflion here. The King is defcribing the mod 
 laborious Country Drudge, that has no Refpite from his Toil, but 
 through his whole Life flaves and fwcats from Morn till Night, like 
 what ? why, like the idlefl: of all Servants a Lackey, a Pediffequus, a. 
 Footman, one whofe chief Bufmefs is to follow his Matter's Steps for 
 Pomp only. So Shah/pear conRantly ufes the Word, as in a Meta- 
 phor of a Flag floating to and fro in the Water in Anthony andCkopa- 
 tra ;-•'-' lacking the Tide, fay the old Editions, but Mr. Theobald correfted 
 it very happily lacqueying the Tide ; and this the two late great Editors 
 confirm by their Adoption. The Simile therefore in this general Senfe 
 of the Word Lacquey being too abfurd to be admitted here, we fiiould 
 moft probably read, 
 
 Jnd like his Lacquey, from the Rife to Set^ 
 Siveats in the Eye of Phcebus. 
 
xxvi PREFACE. I 
 
 Siveafs in the Eye of Phoebus, ajid all Night 
 Sleeps in Elyfium, next Day after Dawn, 
 
 Doth 
 
 Uis Lacquey, i. e. the Lacquey of Fhcchus, one who follows the Mo- 
 tions ot the Sun as conftant as a Lacquey does thofe of his Matter : 
 that this is the Meaning, the Conneclion it has with the following noble 
 Metaphor evidently (hew?, he is no fooner become the Lacquey of the 
 Sun, but he performs to him the Oflice of a Lacquey. 
 _■_-.-. y^r.d next Day after Daiun 
 
 Doth rife and help Hyperion to his Horfe. 
 
 We fee here how from a fmall Stream the Poet's Imagination fwclls 
 into the ncbleft Flood, the Sprir.g-hcnd of which without this Interpre- 
 tation will be totally loft. It is therefore not a fufficient Objeftion, 
 that the Antecedent (in Conftrudion of the Sentence) Phabus is placed 
 ibfar behind the Relative HIS. This is a Latin Arravgement oi Scn- 
 tences which our antient Englijh Poets frequently, and all our Poets 
 fcmetimes ufe, I will give three Inftanccs, one from Milton, one from 
 Sbakcfpear, and one from cur Authors. 
 
 Thus Milton, M'-'hat if ail 
 
 Her Stores ivere open d, and this Firmament 
 Of Hell fhould fpout her CataraJls cf Fire?' 
 
 Book n. lin. lyS* 
 
 As for more Words, r.vJnfe Greatnefs anfnuers Words, 
 Let this my Sivord report luhat Speech forbears. 
 
 Henry VL Part. II. Ad 4. Sc 9. 
 
 ^ivord is here the Antecedent, and n.vhcfe relates to it ; and tho' the 
 lare Editions tranTpofe the Words to make this more evident, it feems 
 only a modern Refinement. 
 
 So in Thierry and ThecdorCt, 
 
 _,_._.--- You may imagine 
 
 Which coxcKs all the World but chief y Women, 
 7he Name of Greatnefs jufifies your Actions. 
 
 Vol. X. p. 122. 
 
 %e Name of Greatnefs is \^i\z Antecedent to ^jjhich; and though a 
 Tranfpofuion of the Lines might render this more vifible to many 
 Readers, yet I am peruiaded the genuine Text is as it was always 
 primeJ. The inaccurate Pcfitioa of the Relatives He^ Which, They^ 
 
P RE FACE. xxvii 
 
 Doth rife and helps Hyperion to his Horfe, 
 And follows fo the ever-rumii?ig year 
 tVith profitable Labour to his Grave. 
 And {but for Ceremony) fuch a Wretch 
 Winding up Days ivilh Toil^and Nights with Sleep, 
 Hath the Forehand atid'Fantage of a King. 
 
 The 
 
 &c. have mifled the grcateft Men. See a remarkable Inftance at 
 Note I. in ne Little French Lanvyer, Vol. IV. pag. 178. Another 
 Iiillance occurs of a Lathi Arrangement of Words, which has wrapt a 
 Vdi^z^zcii Shakrfteari in Darknel's, and given Rife to a very plaufible 
 Conjefture of Mr. V:eobciId'i, and a moll exceeding ingenious one of 
 Mr. IVarhurSon. After the young Prince in Richard the Third had ob- 
 ferved that Truth fhould live through all Ages. 
 
 Richard fays half a Side. 
 
 So luife, fo young, thrv fay, do iie'er live long. 
 
 Prince. What Jay yoti, Uncle ? 
 
 Glo. ^ f^y 'without CharaHers, Fame li'ves long. 
 
 Thus like the formal Vice, Iiiiqulfy, 1 r jsrj - 
 
 I moralize tivo Meanings in one Word. J 17'-- 
 
 Mr. Theobald thinks that in the old EngUJJ? Moralities or MoralFarces 
 in vogue in and before Shakcfpcars Age, the Vice, which was a gene- 
 ral Name for the Buffoon of each Play, when he alTumed a graver 
 Afpeft, was caUcd Iniquity^ and therefore reads, 
 
 Thus, like the formal Vice, Iniquity, 
 I moralize tivo Meanings in one IVord. 
 
 Mr, Warlurton difallows this, and reads. 
 
 Thus like the formal-ivife Antiquity, 
 I moralize ; t'vjo Meanings in one Word. 
 
 This Keading he makes fuch good Senfe, and defends with To 
 much Ingenuity, that even his Miftakes convey more Learning 
 than the trueft Interpretations of many Critics. The old Reading 
 owes all its Obfcurity to the Accufative Cafe being placed before the 
 Verb. The formal Vice is Religious Hypocrify (whether confidered in 
 the Abftraft, or ai perf^iz'd in the old Farces.) Like Religious Hypo- 
 crify, fays Richard, I moralize Iniquity, i. e. I turn my iniquitous 
 Meaning, th.it of muxiering the Prince, into a moral one. 
 
 Thus 
 
xxviii PREFACE. 
 
 The Inftances of thefe two ClafTcs, particularly 
 the former, where the exquifite Beauties of Shake- 
 fpear are not quite reach'd, are mofl numerous; 
 and tho' the Defign of the Notes in this Edition was 
 in general only to fettle the Text, yet in three of 
 the Plays, ^he Faithful Shepherdefs, 'The Falfe One, 
 and The Two Noble Ki?2fmen, that Defign is much 
 enlarged, for Reafons there affigned. And if the 
 Reader pleafcs to turn to thefc, he will find feverai 
 Parallels between Fletcher ^ Shake/pear^ and MiltoUy 
 that are mofl of them to be ran2;ed under one of 
 thefe Clafi*es : But there is a third Clafs of thofe In- 
 ftances where our Authors have been fo happy as to 
 foar above Shake/pear ^ and even where Shakejpear 
 is not greatly beneath himfelf. 
 
 In The Tivo Gentlemen of Verona, the forlorn 
 ytilia^ difguis'd as a Boy, being ask'd of Silvia how 
 tall Jidia was, anfwers : 
 
 About my Stature : For at Pentecofl, 
 When all our Pageants of Delight were plafd. 
 Our Tout h got jne to play the Woman's Fart, 
 And I was trimmed in Madam Julia'j Gown, 
 And at that Ti?ne I made her weep a-good. 
 For I did play a lamentable Fart, 
 
 Thus, like the formal Vice, hiquity 
 I moralize J t-MO Meanings in one Word' 
 
 So in Hamht, Often nvith 
 
 De'voticns V if age vje do fugar o'er 
 The Deiil himfelf. 
 
 And thus in the Reverfe of this, when good Men extraQ Good from 
 
 Uey make a Moral of the Devil himfelf. henry V. 
 
 Madam^ 
 
f 
 
 P R E F A C E. xxlx 
 
 Miidam, 'twas Ariadne paJfio?iing 
 For Thefeus* Perjury and unjiifi Flight ; 
 Which I jo lively adled with my Tears, 
 That my poor Mijirefs, ?noved therewithal. 
 Wept bitterly y and woiCd I might be dead, 
 * If I in Thought felt not her njery Sorrow. 
 
 Aft IV. Scene the laft- 
 
 Therc is fomething extremely tender, innocent, 
 an.d delicate, in thefe Lines of Shakefpear, but our 
 Authors are far beyond this Praife in their Allufion 
 to the fame Story. In The Maid's Tragedy, Afpatia 
 in like manner forfaken by her Lover, finds her 
 Maid Antiphila working a Picture of Ariadne ; and 
 after feveral fine Reflexions upon Thefeus, fays ; 
 
 But where' s the Lady ^ 
 Ant. There, Madam, 
 
 * If I in thought felt not her 'very Sorronu.'] Whoever fully catches the 
 tender Melancholy of thefe Lines, will know that Julia under fucK 
 Diftrefs could not feign a Cafe fo exadlly the Parallel of her own, with- 
 out fuch Emotions as would fpeak themfelves in every Feature, and 
 flow in Tears from her Eyes. She adds the laft Line therefore to take 
 off the Sufpicion of her being the real Julia; But would flie only fay, 
 that ^tfelt Julia's Sorrow formerly, when (he faw her weep ? No I 
 She mult excufe the prefent Perturbation of her Countenance, and tlie 
 true Reading moft probably is : 
 
 jind nvovld I might he dead. 
 
 If I in Thought feel mt her very Sorrmv. 
 This better agrees with the double Meaning intended, and with SihieCt 
 Reply, who fays, 
 
 Sht is beholden to Thee, gentle Youth. 
 
 J weep myfelf to think upon thy Wordu 
 
 Afr 
 
XXX PREFACE. 
 
 Afp. Ficy you have mifid it here, Antlphila, 
 ^heje Colours are not dull and pale enough ^ 
 ^oJl:ew a Soul fo full of Mifery 
 As this fad Ladys was ; do it by me ; 
 Do it again by mc the lofl Afpatia, 
 
 And you pall find all true, Fiit me^ 'on th' %ijild 
 
 Ifiajid*. I 
 
 * Put 7r.c on th' xvilJ TJIand.'] I have given thefe Lines as I think 
 we ought to read them, but very different from what are printed in this 
 Edition. Four of the old Carta's, the Folio, and the late Q3a<vo read. 
 
 And you Jhall find all true but the nuild IJland. 
 I ftand upon the Sea leach no^jo^ and thinks &c. 
 
 I obferved to Mr. Iheobald, that here was a glaring Poetical Corf 
 trndicTion. Ke fays, you'll find all true except (i\^ 'vijild IJland, and in- 
 ftantly Ihe is upon the Ifland, 
 
 IJland upon the Sea-beach nonv, &c. 
 
 The wild Ifland therefore in her Imagination is as true as tlie reft. 
 The Enthufiafm is noble, but wants a proper Introdudion, which the 
 Change only of a ^ for zp will tolerably give. 
 
 And you Jhall find all true. — — Put the njcild I/land', 
 I fiand, &c. 
 
 But as there are numberlefs Inflances of many Words, and particularly 
 Monofyllables, being dropt from the Text (of which there is one in the 
 fame Page with thefe Lines, and another in the fame Play, Vol. I. p.59. 
 very remarkable) I fuppofe this to have happened here ; for by read- 
 ing Put me on the ivild Ifland;— I Jland upon, &c. How nobly does 
 flie ftart as it were from Taney to Reality, from the PiSlure into t,he Life? 
 Me on th^ by Elifions conuiion to all cur old Poets, may become one 
 Syllable in the Pronunciation ; but if v/e fpeak them full, and make a 
 twelve Syllable Verfe, it will have a hundred Fellows in our Authors, 
 and fhould have had one but three Lines below the Paflage here quoted. 
 
 Make a dull Silence, till you feel a fudden Sadnefs 
 Give us nenxj Souls. 
 
 As Afpatia's Grief had been of long Continuance, fudden was evidently 
 corrupt, and I therefore propos'd to Mr. Theobald to xtzA fullen, which 
 is an Epithet perfeftly proper and extremely nervous ; but as he could 
 by no means be perfuaded to mention (he former Conjei^ure, and the 
 
 only 
 
PREFACE. xxxi 
 
 IJland upon the Sea-beach 7iow, and think 
 Mine Arms thus., and mine Hair blown by, the IVind^ 
 Wild as that Defart, and let all about me 
 Be Teachers of my Story j do my Face 
 (If thou hadjl ever Feeling of a Sorroiv) 
 ihus^ thus, Antiphila ; Jlrive to make me look 
 Like Sorrow's Monument ; and the Trees about me 
 Let them he dry and leajlefs j let the Flocks 
 Groan with continual Surges, and behind 7ne 
 Make all a Defolation ; fee, fee. Wenches, 
 A miferable Life of this poor FiBwe. 
 
 Vol. I. pag. 32. 
 
 Whoever has feen either the Original or Print of 
 Guido's Bacchus and Ariadne will have the beft 
 Comment on thefe Lines. In both are the Arms ex- 
 tended, the Hair blown by the Wind, the barren 
 Roughnefs of the Rocks, the broken Trunks of 
 leaflefs Trees, and in both flie looks like Sorrow*s 
 Mojiument, So that exadly ut FiBura Foefis ; and 
 hard it is to fay, whether our Authors or Guido 
 painted beji. I fhall refer to the Note below for a 
 fiu'ther Comment, and proceed to another Liftance 
 of fuperior Excellence in our Authors, and where 
 they have more evidently built on Shakefpears Foun- 
 dation. At the latter-end of King John the Kj?ig 
 has receiv'd a burning Foifon ; and being asked, 
 
 only Obje£\ion he urged was, that it made a Twelve-fyllable Verfe, he 
 would not let one of twelve Syllables remain fo near it; and thereibrc 
 without Authority of any prior Edition, difcardcd the Epithet intirely 
 from the l^ext, and adopted the Reading of the firll Quarto in the former 
 Paflage. 
 
 ^'■i.^^Q{e. I Jland upon the Sea-heach tjovj, &c. 
 As this is much the moft unpoetical of all the Readings,aDd the firll Intro- 
 ducers of the Text in the intermediate Editions claim their Corredions 
 from the original Manufcript, I can by no means approve tlic Choice he 
 has made. 
 
 How 
 
xxxii PREFACE, 
 
 How fares your Majefiy ? 
 
 K. John. Poifoji'd, ill Fare! dead, forfook^ cajl off; 
 And none of you will bid the Winter come^ 
 fTo thruji his icy Fingers in my Maw ; 
 t^or let fny Kingdoms Rii'ers take their Courfe 
 ^hrd' my burnt Bofom j nor intreat the North 
 ^0 ?nake his bleak IVinds kifs my parched Lips, 
 
 ' And comfort me with Cold I ask not mucby 
 
 I beg cold Comfort. 
 
 The firft and lafl Lines are to be rang'd among 
 the Faults that fo much difgrace Shakefpear, which 
 he committed to pleafe the corrupt Tafte of the Age 
 he liv'd in, but to which Beaumont and Fletcher's 
 Learning and Fortune made them fuperior. The 
 intermediate Lines are extremely beautiful, and 
 mark'd as fuch by the late great Editor, but yet are 
 much improv'd in two Plays of our Authors, the 
 iirft in Valentinian, where the Emperor poifon'd in 
 the fame Manner, dies with more Violetice, Fury^ 
 and Horror, than Y^^vix^fohn^ but thePaffage which 
 I fliall quote is from A Wife for a Month, a Play 
 "which does not upon the whole equal the poetic 
 Sublimity of Vahntinian, tho' it rather excels it in 
 the poifoning Scene. The Prince Alphonfo, who 
 had been long in a Phrenfy of Melancholy, is poi- 
 fon'd with a hot fiery Potion j under the Agonies 
 of which he thus raves. 
 
 Gi'ue me more Air, more Air, Air ; blow, blow, blow ^ 
 Open thou Eaftern Gate, and bloiv upon me -, 
 Dijlil thy cold Dews, O thou icy Moon, 
 And Rivers run thro' my affiled Spirit. 
 
 I am 
 
PREFACE. xxxiii 
 
 I am all Fire, Fire, Ft re -, the raging Dog-fiar 
 
 Reigns in my Blood-, Obi ivhich Way Jh all I tur^^ 
 me ? 
 
 iEtna and all her Flames burn in my Head. 
 
 Fling me into the Ocean or I peri/lj. 
 
 Dig, dig, dig, digy imtil the Springs Jty up, 
 
 ^he cold, cold Springs , that I may leap into 
 them. 
 
 And bathe my fcorclyd Limbs in their purling 
 Pleafures ; 
 
 Or fioot me into the higher Region, 
 
 Where Treafures of delicious Snow are nouriJh*dy 
 
 Aiid Banquets of fweet Hail. 
 Rug. Hold him fafi, Fryar, 
 
 O how he bums ! 
 Alph. What, will ye facrifce me ? 
 
 Upon the Altar lay my willing Body, 
 
 And pile your Wood up, fing your holy Incenfe ; 
 
 And, as I turn me, you fhall fee all flame, 
 . Co nfuming Flame, Stand off fne, oryoureAfies, 
 
 Mart. To Bed, good Sir. 
 
 Alph. My Bed will burn about me -, 
 Like Phaeton, in all-confuming Flafies 
 Amlinchs'd; let me fly, let me fly, give Room-, 
 Vol. I. c 'Jhvi^if 
 
xxxiv PREFACE. 
 
 * 'i'wixt the cold Bean ^ far from the raging Lion, 
 Lies myfafe Way ; O for a Cake of Ice now 
 To clap unto my Heart to comfort me. 
 Decrepit Winter hang upon my SboulderSy 
 And let me wear thy frozen Ifcles^ 
 Like Jewels round about my Head, to cool me. 
 My Eyes burn out and Jink into their Sockets, 
 And my inJeSled Brain like Brimftone boils ; 
 
 * ^Tijuixt the cold Bear.s, far from the raging Lion ] I have inferted 
 here a Reading very different from what the Reader will find in this or 
 any of the Editions ; for it occurr'd to mc only now in tranfcribing the 
 Paflage. 
 
 't'he former Reading is, 
 
 Betiuixt the cold Bear and the raging Lion. 
 
 The learned Reader need not be told that the Bear and Lion here, by a 
 beautiful Synecdoche, ftand for the frigid and the torrid Zones, and be- 
 twixt the two Means the temperate Zone: But does Safety dwell here to 
 a Man v»rapt in Flames? No, i\iG frigid Zone only, which might 
 quench their Violence, can bring him Safety, and all his other Wifte* 
 hurry him. 
 
 To Night and Cold, tt nipping Frojts and Winds, 
 That cut the Jlubhorn Rocks and make thcmfiinier. 
 
 The Abfurdity therefore of the old Reading was no fooner obferved 
 than a Probability occurr'd of the manner how it came into the Text. 
 I believe the Author's Manufcript had accidentally omitted the s in 
 Bears, and run thus: 
 
 'Thvixt the cold Bear, far from the raging Liottt 
 
 Lies my fafe Way. 
 
 A Playhoufc Prompter, CK common Cort-eSlor of the Prefs, thinking thi* 
 not Englijh, without entering into the Spirit of the Author, would na- 
 turally correfl it into the old Text : 
 
 Bet'wixt the cold Bear and the raging Lion. 
 And that I hare therefore only reftored the Original is furtlier probable 
 from hence : The Allufion to Phaeton is evidently carried on in this Line, 
 and O/vid makes Phahus advife him particularly to avoid the Serpent, 
 i. c. the Conjiellation that lies hetavixt the fwo Bears. The Reveifc of 
 this therefore would oatorally occur on this Occafion. 
 
 / 
 
PREFACE. xxxY 
 
 I live in Hell and fever al Furies vex me, 
 O carry me where never Sun e*er fiew'd yet 
 A Face of Comfort^ where the Earth is CryJIal, 
 Never to be diffohfd^ where iiought i?ihabits 
 But Night and Cold^ and nipping Frojis ajjd 
 
 Winds J 
 ^hat cut the fiuhhorn Rocks, a?id make them 
 
 foiver ; 
 Set me there Friends. 
 
 Every Reader of Tafte will fee how fuperior this 
 is to the Quotation from Shakefpear. The Images 
 are vaftly more numerous, more judicious, more 
 nervous, and the Paffions are wrought up to the 
 higheft Pitch ; fo that it may be fairly preferred to 
 every thinp; of its Kind in all Shakefpear^ except one 
 Scene of Lear?, Madnefs, which it Would emulate 
 too, could we fee fuch an excellent Comment on it 
 as Lear receives from his Reprefentativc on the 
 Stage. 
 
 As thefe laft Quotations are not only Specimens 
 of Di£fion and Sentiment^ but of Fafjions inflam'd 
 into Poetic Enthufafm j I fliall refer the Reader to 
 fome other Parallels of Faffions and CharaBers that 
 greatly refemble, and fometimes rival ihe Spirit i- id 
 Sublimity of Shakcfpcar. He will pleafe therefore 
 to compare the Phrenfy and the whole fweet Cha- 
 raSfer of the Joaler's Daughter in the Two noble 
 Kinfmen to Ophelia in Ramlet^ where the Copy is 
 fo extremely like the Original that either the fime 
 Hand drew both, or Fletcher's is not to be diftin- 
 guilh'd from Shakefpears -. — To compare the 
 Deaths of Pontius and JEcius in Vale72tinia?i with 
 that of CaJJius, Brutus and their Friends in Julius 
 c 2 Cafu 
 
xxxvi PREFACE. 
 
 Cafar, and if he admires a little lefs, he will wfep 
 much more ; it more excells in the Pathetic than 
 it falls (hort in Dignity : — To compare the Cha^ 
 raBer and Pafjio?is of Cleopatra in the Falfe One, 
 to thofe of Skakefpear's Cleopatra : "—To compare 
 tlie pious Deprecations and Grief-mingled Fury of 
 Edith (upon the Murder of her Father by RoIlOy 
 111 the Bloody Brother) to the Grief and Fury of 
 Macdiiff] upon his Wife and Children's Murder. 
 Our Authors will not, we hope, be found light in 
 the Scc7le in any of thefe Inftances, tho' their Beam 
 in general fly fome little upwards, it will fometimes 
 at Icafl tug hard for a Poife. But be it allowed, 
 that as in Diofion and Sentiment ^ fo in CharaEleri 
 and PaJJions, Shake/pear in general excells, yet here 
 too a very flrong Inftance occurs of Preeminence 
 in our Authors. It is "Juliana in the "Double Mar^ 
 riage, who, thro' her whole CharaBer^ in conjugal 
 Fidelity, unshaken Conftancy and amiable Tender- 
 nefs, ev'n more than rivals the Portia of Shake/- 
 pear, and hcY Death not only far excells the others, 
 but e'en the moft pathetic Deaths that Shake/pear 
 has any where dcfcrib'd or exhibited ; Y^mgLeari 
 with Cordelia dead in his Arms, molt refembles, 
 but by no Means equals it ; The Grief, in this Cafe, 
 only puflies an old Man into the Grave, already half 
 huried with. Age and Misfortunes ^ In the other, it 
 is fuch con/unmiate Horror, as in a few Minutes 
 freezes Touth and Beauty into a Monumental Statue^ 
 The laft Parallel I fhall mention, fhall give Shakef- 
 pear his due Preference, where our Authors very 
 vifibly emulate but cannot reach him. It is the 
 Quarrel of Amintor and Melantius in the Maids 
 ^Tragedy compared to that of Brutus and CaJJius, 
 The Beginning of the Quarrel is upon as juft Grounds, 
 
 and 
 
PREFACE, xxxvii 
 
 and the Paffions are wrought up to as great Violence, 
 but there is not fueh extreme JDigmty of Character, 
 nor fuch noble Sentiments of Morality in cither 
 Amintor or Melantius as in Brutus.* 
 
 Having thus giv'n, we hope, pretty ftrong Proofs 
 of our Authors Excellence in the Sublime^ and fhewn 
 how near they approach in Splendor to iht great Sun 
 of the Britijh Theatre ; Let us now jull: touch on 
 their Comedies and draw one Parallel of a very dif- 
 ferent Kind. Horace makes a Doubt whether Co^ 
 medy fliould be call'd Poetry or not, /. e. whether the 
 Comedies ofTerence^ Plautus^Mena?idcr^ &c. fliould 
 be efteem'd fuch, for in its own Nature there is a 
 Comic Poetic Di^lion as well as a Tragic one j a 
 Diction which Horace himfelf was a great Mafter 
 of, thp* it had not then been ufed in the Draina ; 
 for ev'n the fublimefl Sentiments of Terence ^ when 
 
 * One Key to Amintor% Heroifm and Diflrefs, will, I believe, folve 
 all the Objeftions that have been rais'd to this Scene ; wliich will va- 
 nifh at once by only an occafional Conformity to our Authors ethical and 
 political Principles. They held PaJ/i've Obedience and Non-rejl/lance to 
 Princes an indifpenfable Duty ; a Doftrine which Queen Elizabeth^ 
 Goodnefs made her Subjects fond of imbibing, and which htrSucceJfors 
 King-craft with far different Views, carried to its highefl Pitch. In 
 this Period, our Authors wrote, and we may as well quarrel with fafft 
 for Popery, or with Homer and Virgil for Heathenifm^ as with our Au- 
 thors for this Principle. It is therefore the violent Shocks of the highefl 
 Provocations ftruggling with what Amintor thought his eternal Duty ; 
 of Nature rebelling againll Principle (as a famous Partijan for this 
 Doftrine in ^teen Ann's Reign exprefs'd it, when he happen'd not 
 to be in the Miniftry) which drive the Heroic Youth into that Phrenjy, 
 which makes him challenge his deareft Friend for cfpoufing too re- 
 vengefully his own Quarrel againft xSxq facred Majefty of the moft aban- 
 donedly 'wicked King. The fame Key is neceflary to the Heroifm of 
 JEcius^ Aubrey, Archas, and many others of our Author's Charaflerj ; 
 in all which the Reader will perhaps think, there is fomcthing un- 
 naturally abfurd ; but the Abfurdity is wholly chargeable on the Dodrinc 
 not oa the Pceu. 
 
 c 3 his 
 
 \ 
 
xxxviii PREFACE. 
 
 hi? Comedy raifes its Voice to the greateft Dignity,' 
 are ftiil no^ do.^rh'd in Poetic DiBion. The Brittjh 
 Drama which before yonjon receiv'd only fome 
 little Improvement frorh tli.- Models of Greece and 
 RomCy but fprang chiefly ficm their own Moralities^ 
 and religious Farces ; and had Birth extremely fimi- 
 lar to what the Grecian Drama originally fprung 
 from i differei! in its Growth from the Greeks chiefly 
 in two Particulars. The latter feparated the jolemn 
 Pa^ts of their reiip^ious Shews from the Satiric Far^ 
 cici-l Parts of then:;, and fo form'd the difl:in(ft Spe- 
 ciesof "Tr.igedy and Comedy ; the Britons were not 
 fo h:.ppv, but fuffer'd them to continue united, 
 ev'n in Hovx-:'^ (if a'; great or greater Poets than So- 
 phccles-iXiA Euripides. But they had far better Suc- 
 cefs in the fecond Inftance. The Greeks appro- 
 priated the Spirit and Nerves of Poetry to Tragedy 
 only, and tho' they did not wholly deprive the G?- 
 7nedyo{ Metre, they left it not the Shadow oi Poetic 
 Dicfion. and Sentiment j 
 
 Idcirco qui dam, Comoedia ?tecne Poema 
 EJfetj quafivere : quod acer Spiritus ac Vis 
 Nee Verbis nee rebus ineji. 
 
 The Britons not only retain'd Metre In their Come- 
 dies, but alfo all the acer Spiritiis^ all the Strength 
 and' Nerves of Poetry, which was in a good Mea- 
 fure owing to the Happinefs of our blank Verfc, 
 which at the fame time that it is capable of the 
 highefl: Sublimity ^ the mofl extenfiye and noblefl: 
 Hartnoj-iy of the Tragic and Epic ; yet when ufed 
 familiarly is fo near the Ser?7io Pedejiris^ fo eafy 
 and natural as to be well adapted ev'n to the drolleft 
 Comic Dialogue, The French common Metre is the 
 
 very 
 
PR E FA C E. xxxix 
 
 reryReverfe of this; it is much too ftifFand formal 
 cither for Tragedy or Comedy, unable to rife with 
 proper Dignity to the Sublimity of the one, or to 
 defcend with Eafe to the jocofe Familiarity of the 
 other. Befides the Cramp of Rhime every Line 
 is cut afunder by fo ftrong a Ccefure, that in Englijb 
 we fliould divide it into the three-foot Stanza, as 
 
 JVhen Fanny blooming Fair 
 
 Firjl caught my raviJJfd Sight ^ 
 Struck with her Shape and Air 
 
 I felt a JI range Delight. 
 
 Take one of the Rhimes from thcfe, and write them 
 in two Lines, they are exadly the fame with the 
 French Tragic and Epic Metre. 
 
 IFhen Fanny blooming Fair, firfl caught my ra- 
 
 -viJJfd Sight, 
 Struck with her Air and Shape, I felt a flrang^ 
 
 Delight. 
 
 In a Language where this is their fublimeflMeafure, 
 no wonder that their greateft Poet fhould write his 
 Telemaque an Epic Pcem in Proje. Every one muft 
 know that the genteel Parts of Comedy, Defcripti- 
 ons of polite Life, moral Sentences, paternal Fond- 
 ncfs, filial Duty, generous Friendfhip, and particu- 
 larly the Delicacy and Tcndernefs of Lovers' Senti- 
 ments are equally proper to Poetry in Comedy as 
 Tragedy j in thefe Things there is no fort of real 
 Difference between the two, and what the Greeks 
 and Latins form'd had no Foundation in Nature ; 
 our old Poets therefore made . no fuch Difference, 
 
 c 4 and 
 
xl PREFACE. 
 
 and their Comedies in this Refpeft vaftly excel the 
 Ijati?:s and Greeks. Jonfon who reform'd many 
 Faults of our Drama, and follow'd the Plans of 
 Greece and Rome very clofely in moft In (lances, yet 
 preferv'd the Poetic Fire andDidlion of Comedy as a 
 great Excellence, How many Inftances of inimitable 
 Poetic Beauties might one produce from Shakejf ear's 
 ComeJies? Not fo many yet extremely numerous 
 are thofe of our Authors, and fuch as in an ancient 
 Claffic would be thought Beauties of the firft Mag- 
 nitude. Thefe lie before me in fuch Variety, that 
 I fcarce know where to fix. But I'll confine myfelf 
 chiefly to Moral Sentiments. In the Elder Brother ^ 
 Charles the Scholar thus fpeaks of the Joys of Li- 
 ieraturc'y being ask'd by his Father 
 
 ■ Nor will you 
 
 Take care of my Eft at e'^ Char. But in my JVi/hes ; 
 For know. Sir, that the Wings on which my Soul 
 Is mounted, have longfmce born her too high 
 Tojloof at any Prey that foars not upwards. 
 Sordid and Dunghill Minds, composed of Earthy 
 In that grofs Element fix all their Happinefs ; 
 But purer Spirits, purg'd, refin'd, Jhake off 
 That Clog of human Frailty. Give me leave 
 T' enjoy myfelf-, that Place that does contain 
 My Books, my hefl Companions, is to me 
 A glorious Court, where hourly I converfe 
 With the old Sages and Philofophers ; 
 /md fometimes, for Variety, I confer 
 With Kings arid Emperors, and 'weigh their 
 Counfek i 
 
 Calling 
 
PREFACE. xli 
 
 C tilling their Vidlorics, ifunjuftly got, 
 U?2to aJiriB Account, and, in my Fancy, 
 Deface their ill-plac'd Statues. 
 
 Vol. ir. Page 3. 
 
 In Monfieur Thomas, a Youth in Love with his 
 Friend's intended Wife, after rclifting the greateft 
 Temptations of PaJJion, is thus encouraged by 
 the young Lady to perfevere in his Integrity. 
 
 Francis. Whither do yoit dri'oe me ? 
 
 Cellide. Back to your Honefty, make that good ever^ 
 *Jis like a Jlrong-biiilt C^Ldltfeated high. 
 That draws on ail Ambitions -yjiill repair it^ 
 Still fortify it : there are thoufand Foes, 
 Befide the Tyrant Beauty will ajfail it. 
 
 Look /o_)'(5//r Centincls that watch it hourly. 
 Tour Eyes, let them not watider, 
 
 ^ Keep your Ears, 
 
 The two main Ports that may betray ye, Jirongly 
 From light Belief^r/?, then from Flattery, 
 Efpecialiy where Woman beats the Parley ; 
 The Body of your Strength, your noble Heart 
 From ever yielding to dijlmiejl Ends, 
 Rjdgd round about with Virtue, that m 
 
 Breaches, 
 Nofubtle Mines may find you, ^ 
 
 • Our Authors, in carrying the Metaphor of a Citadel compar'd to 
 the A/;Wthro' fo many Divilion?,fcem to have built on the Foundation 
 of St. Paul, who in like manner carries on a Metaphor from Armour 
 thro' its feveral Pans. E^htftam vi. u . 
 
 Put 
 
xlii PREFACE. 
 
 As Cellide had before us'd a light Behaviour in 
 Trial of his Virtue, upon finding it only a Trial, 
 and receiving from her this virtuous Lecture, he 
 rejoins ; 
 
 How 
 
 Put on the whole Armour of God having your Loins girt about 
 
 'with Truth, ard having on the Breaft-plate of Right eoufnefs. Above 
 
 all, taking the Shield of Taith^ wherewith ye fhall be able to quench 
 all the ficty Darts of the wicked ; and take the Helmet of Salivation, 
 and the Sword of the Sfirit which is the Word of God. See alfo the 
 fame Metaphor in Ifaiah lix. 1 7. from whom St. Paul took his. 
 Were I to quote cur Author's frequent Refemblance to the Stile and 
 Sentiments of the Scriptures, another very large Field would open to 
 us ; and this would help us to the Solution of two Queftions, which 
 they who have a jufl Tafte of the Excellencies of our old Englijh Poets 
 naturally ask: 1. How came the Britijh Mufe in the very Infancy of 
 Literature, when but juit fprung from the dark Womb of monkifh 
 Superftition, to rife at once to fuch Maturity, as fhe did in Spenfer, 
 Shaiefpear, Beaumont, Fletchtr, Jon/on and Majfenger ? 2. What 
 Spirit is it that has animated \!t\.t frozen Foggy Genius of Britain, into 
 a nobler and fiercer Flame of Foetry than was ever yet kindled in the 
 bright invigorating Climes of France and modern Italy; infomuch, that 
 a Gallic and Italian Eye is dazled and offended at the Brightnefs of 
 the noblefl ExprefTions of Milton, and the Authors above-mention'd ? 
 We anfwer. It was no lefs a Spirit than the Spirit of God, it was the 
 Sun of Fight eoufnefs, the hallonud Light of the Scriptures that was juft 
 thenrifen on the Britif? ClimCf but is flill hid in Clouds and Darknefs 
 to France and Italy. A Light to which the brighteft Strokes of Milton 
 and Shakefpear are but as the Rays of the Mid-day 5a/?, when com- 
 pared to that ineffable inconceinjable Luftre which furrounds the Ihrone 
 of God. When the Zeal of Religion ran high, and a Colleftion of 
 far the nohlefi Poems that were ever wrote in the World, thofe of Job, 
 Vauid, Ifaiah and all the Prophets were daily read, and publickly, 
 folemnly and learnedly commented upon, in almoft every Town in 
 the Kingdom ; when every Man thought it a Difgrace not to fludy 
 them in private, and not to treafure the noblefl Parts of them in his Me- 
 mory, what wonder was it that our Poets fhould catch fo much of the 
 facred Fire, or that the Briti/h Genius fhould be array'd with the Beams 
 cflheEaf? But when the Love of the 5fri//j<r« waxed faint, the 
 Keri'es of our Poetry grew in the fame Proportion weak and languid. 
 One of the befl Means therefore to gain a true Tafle of the extreme 
 Poetic Sublimity of the facred Scriptures, is to converfe with thofe 
 Poets whofe btile and Sentiments mofl refemble them. And the very 
 jbeft Means to reflore the Briiifh Genius to its priitm Vigour, and to 
 . . jreate 
 
PREFACE. xliii 
 
 ' ■ — How like the Sun 
 
 Labouring in his Eclipfc, dark a?id prodigious 
 She fiew'd till now ?■ when having won his wayy 
 How full of Wonder he breaks out again 
 Andjheds his virtuous Beams ? 
 
 Such Paflages as thefe are frequent in our Authors 
 Comedies ; were they expreft only in genteel Profe, 
 they would rank with the very nobleft PalTages of 
 Terence J but what Reafon upon Earth can be affign'd, 
 hut meer Fajhion^ why, becaufe they are Parts of 
 Comedies^ they (hould be weakened and flatned into 
 •f-Profe by drawing the Sinews of their Strcjigth and 
 ecUpfing thofe poetic Beams that (lied Vigour, Life 
 
 and Luftre on every Sentiment ? 
 
 Such Pof//V Excellence therefore will the Reader 
 find in the genteel Parts of our Author's Come dies ^ 
 but, as before hinted, there is a Poetic Stile often 
 equally proper and excellent ev'n in the loweft 
 Drollery of Comedy. Thus when the jocofc old 
 Mir anient in the Elder Brother catches auftere fo- 
 lemn Magijlrate Brifac endeavouring to debauch 
 his Servant's JVife — Before he breaks in upon him, 
 he fays ; 
 
 o. 
 
 create otlier Shakrfpcars and other Mi/ions, is to promote the Study, 
 Love and Admiration of thofe Scriptures. 
 
 A concurrent Caufe, which raifed the Spirkof Poe/ty tD fuch a Height 
 in ^een E/izaleth^s Reign, was the Encouragement and Influence tf 
 the ^een herfclf; to whom po/ite Literature was the moft courtly Ac- 
 compli(hment. Look into Spen/ers Defcription of her Lords and Fa- 
 vourites, and you'll find a learned ^een made a whole Court of Poets, 
 juft as an amorous Monarch afterwards made every flow'ry Courtier 
 write Romance ; and Martial Princes have turn'd intimidated Ar- 
 mies into Heroes. 
 
 f There is much lefs Profe left in this Edition than there was 
 in all the former ; in which tke Mtcjure was ofien moll miferably 
 
 reg'efted 
 
jcliv PREFACE. 
 
 O, t/y infinite Frights that will affail this Gen- 
 tleman I 
 ^he Quartans, Tertians, and Qnotidians, 
 ^afll hang, like Sergeants, on his Worfhip's 
 
 Shoulders ! 
 How will thofe folemn Looks appear to me. 
 And that fevere Face that fpake Chains and 
 Shackles ! 
 
 How fmall a Change of the Comic Words would 
 turn this into the Sublime ? fuppofe it fpoke of Nero 
 by one who knew he would be at once deferted by j| 
 the Senate and Army, and giv'n up to the Fury of 
 the People, 
 
 What infinite Frights will foon ajfail the Tyra?tt ? 
 What Terrors like Ji em Lidors will arrefl him ? 
 How will that fierce terrific Eye appear, 
 Whoje fiightefi Bendjpake Dungeons, Chains, and 
 Death ? 
 
 Such as the former, is the general Stile of our Au^ 
 thor's Drollery, particularly of Fletcher's -, Beaumont 
 deals chiefly in another Species, the Burlefque Epic, 
 Thus when the little Comic French La%uyer is run 
 Fighting-mad, and his Antagonifi excepts againfl 
 his Shirt for not being laced (as Gentlemen's Shirts 
 of that Age ufed to be) he anfwers. 
 
 negleded. Wit nuithout Money, the very firft Play which fell to my 
 Lot to prepare for the Prefs after Mr. 7heobaldh Death, was all 
 printed as Profe, except about twenty Lines towards the End ; but the 
 Reader will now find it as true Meafure as almoll any Comedy of our 
 Authgrs. 
 
 Bafi 
 
PREFACE. xlv 
 
 Bafe and degenerate Coufin^ dojl not know 
 An old and tatter' d Colours to an Enem)\ 
 Is of more Honour ^ andjkews more ominous ^^ 
 *Tbis Shirt Jive Times viBorious Tve fought under^^ 
 And cut thro' Squadrofis of your curious Cut- works. 
 As I will do thro' thine ; fmke and be fatisffd. 
 
 This Stile runs thro* many of Beaumonfs Characfters, 
 befide La-writ* s^ asLazrillo, The Knight of the Burn- 
 ing Pe/lkj Befus's two Swordfmen, 6cc. and he has 
 frequent Allulions to and ev'n Parodies of the fub- 
 limeft Parts of Shake fpear ; which both Mr. Sympfon 
 And Mr. Theobald look upon as Sneers upon a 
 Poet of greater Eminence than the fuppofed Sneerer 
 (a very great * Crime if true) but I believe it an en- 
 tire Mijlake. The Nature of this Burlefque Epic 
 requires the frequent Ufe of the moft known and 
 mod acknowledged Expreffions of Sublimity, which 
 apply'd to low Objefts vtYv^t'i them ^Vi0\.\!ci^ Author of 
 thofe Expreffions, ridiculous. Almoft all Men of Wit 
 jnake the fame ufe of Shakefpear and Milton's Ex- 
 preffions in common Conversation without the leafl 
 Thought of fneering either; and indeed if every 
 Quotation from Shakefpear thus jocularly apply'd in 
 
 • For a further Defence of our Authors from this Imputation, fee 
 Note 31 of 7he Little French Lanuytr, Vol. IV. page 248; and Note 
 29 of The Woman-Hater, Vol. X. page 250, In both which there is 
 b Miftakc with regard to the Author of thofe Plays. When I wrote 
 *he Notes, I fuppos'd it Fletcher, till Beaumont^ Letter at the End of 
 ^e Nice Valour, gave me a Key, which is given to the Reader in the 
 firft Seftion of the Preface, and which explain* the Difference of Man* 
 'Her between Btaumunt and FUtchtr. 
 
 a real 
 
xlvi PREFACE. 
 
 a real Sneer upon him, then all Burlefque Sublitni 
 is a Sneer upon the real Sublime^ and Beaumont 
 fneer'd himfelf as well as Shakefpear. 
 
 From thefe three fhort Specimens the Reader 
 will form, we hope, a jiifl Idea of the three Stiles 
 ufed in our Author's Comedies^ the Sublime^ the droll 
 Poetic, and the burlefque Sublime. There is indeed 
 a fmall Mixture of Profe, which is the only Part of 
 our old Dramatic Poets Stile that Moderns have 
 vouchfafed to imitate. Did they acknowledge the 
 Truth, and confefs their Inability to rife to the Spi^ 
 rity Vigour, and Dignity of the other Stiles, they 
 were pardonable. Bat far from it, our reform'd 
 Tafte calls for Profe only, and before Beaumont and 
 Fletcher's Plays can be endur'd by fuch Attic Ears, 
 they mud be correBed into Profe, as if, becaufe well- 
 brew'd Porter is a wholfom Draught, therefore 
 Claret and Burgundy muft be dafhed with Porter 
 before they were drinkable. For a true Specimen 
 of our Modern 'Tajie, we will give the Reader one 
 Cup of our Author s Wine thus porteriz'd, and that 
 by One who perfedtly knew the Palate of the Age, 
 who pleafed it greatly in this very Inftance, and 
 fome of whofe Comedies have as much or more Me- 
 rit than any Moderns except Congreve. Mr. Cibber 
 has confolidated two of our Author's Plays, The 
 Elder Brother, and The Cufiom of the Country, to 
 form his Love makes a Man ; or. The Fop's Fortune, 
 In the former there are two old French Noblemen, 
 Lewis and Brifac, the firfi: proud of his Family and 
 Fortune, the other of his Magifterial Power and 
 Dignity; neither Men of Learning, and therefore 
 both preferring courtly Accomplifhments, and the 
 Knowledge of the World, to the deepeft Know- 
 ledge 
 
PR E F A C E. xl/ii 
 
 ledge of Books, and the mofl extenfive Literature. 
 Such Chara(5lers exclude not good Senfc in general, 
 but in that Part of their Chara(5ters only where their 
 Foibles liej (as Folonius in Hamlet is a Fool in his 
 pedantic Foibles, and a Man of Senfe in all other 
 Inftances) accordingly Fletcher makes Brifac and 
 Lrtvis thus treat of a Marriage between their Chil- 
 dren. 
 
 Bri. Good Monjieur Lewis, 1 ejleem myfelf 
 Much honoured in your clear hitent to join 
 Our ancient Families^ and make them otie ; 
 jind* twill take from my Age and Cares, to live 
 And fee what you have purposed put in A£i -^ 
 Of which your Vifit at this prefetit Is 
 A hopeful Omen -, I each Minute expeSllng 
 T^h' Arrival of my Sons ; / have not wrong d 
 nelr Birth for want of Means and Education ^ 
 *ToJJjape them to that Courfe each was addlBed -, 
 And therefore that we may proceed dlfcreetly, 
 Suice what's concluded rajhly feldom profpers, 
 Tou firfi Jhall take afirl6i Ferufalof them. 
 And then from your Allowance, your fair 
 
 Daughter 
 May fafilon her Affedllon. Lew. Monfeur 
 
 Brifac, 
 Tou offer fair and nobly, and Til meet you 
 In the fame Line of Honour ; and, I hope. 
 Being bleji but with one Daughter, I Jhall not 
 Appear Impertinently curious, 
 though, with my utmoji Vigilance ^nd Study, 
 
xlviii P R E P /i C e: 
 
 J labour to beftow her to her Worth : 
 
 Let others fpeak her Form^ and future Fortune 
 
 From me defcending to her^ I in that 
 
 Sit down withSilence. V>n.Tou inay ^myhord fecurelj 
 
 Since Fame aloud proclaimeth her Perfe5lions^ 
 
 Commanding all Mens Tongues to Jing herPraifei* 
 
 I quote not this as an Inflance of the Sublime^ 
 but of our Authors genteel Dialogue enliven'd by a 
 few Poetic Figures, as in the laft Lines Fatne is 
 ferfonis'd and commands the Tongues of Men. 
 Now let us fee this Dialogue modernised: The 
 Names of the old Gentlemen being chang'd to 
 Antonio and Charino, they thus confer. 
 
 Ant. Without Compliment^ my old Friend^ I 
 Jhall think myfelf much honour d in your Al- 
 liance ; our Families are both ancient, our Children 
 young, and able to fupport 'em j and I think the 
 fooner ivefet 'em to work the better. 
 
 Cha. Sir, you offer fair and nobly, and pall 
 Jind I dare meet you in the fame Line of Honour; 
 and I hope, fmce I have but one Girl in the Worlds 
 you wont think me a troublefome old Fool, if I en- 
 deavour to bejiow her to her Worth j therefore, if 
 you pleafe, before we fiake Hands, a Word or two 
 by the bye, for I have fome confiderable ^eftiom to 
 ask you. 
 
 Ant. Ask 'em. 
 
 Cha. Well, in the frjl Place, you fay you have 
 
 two Sons. 
 
 Ant. Exadily, 
 
 Cha; 
 
PR E FACE. xlix 
 
 Cha. And ym are iviUing that one of 'an Jhall 
 marry my Daughter ? 
 
 Ant. Willing. 
 
 Cha. My Daughter Angelina ? 
 
 Ant. Angelina. 
 
 Cha. And you are likeivife content that the [aid 
 Angelina fiall furvey 'em both^ and (with my Al- 
 lowance) take to her lawful Husband^ which of 'em 
 JJoe pleafes ? 
 
 Ant. Content, 
 
 Cha. And you farther promife, that the Tcrfon 
 hy her (and me) fh chofen (be it elder or younger} 
 Jhall be your fole Heir ; that is to fay^ /hall be in a 
 co7tditional PoJeJJion, of at leaf three Parts of your 
 Eflate. Tqh know the Conditions^ and this you pof- 
 tively promife f 
 
 Ant. To perform, 
 
 Cha. Why then., as the laft Token of my full Con- 
 fent and Approbation., I give you my Hand, 
 
 Ant. There's mine. 
 
 Cha. /// a Match ? 
 
 Ant. A Match. 
 
 Cha. Done, 
 
 Ant. Done, 
 
 Cha. And done ! 'that's etiough" 
 
 Strike out an Expreffion or two of Fletcher'^, 
 and a couple of Grafiers would have put more 
 Senfe into an Ox-bargain. I blame not the Author., 
 if a Man's Cuftomers refolvc to pay the Price of 
 Champaign^ and yet infiO: upon Mild and Stale., who 
 would refufe it them ? This is only a Specimen of 
 the Tafte of the late wonderfully enlightned Age. 
 But as Shakefpear and Miltofi have already in a good 
 meafure difpers'd the Clouds of Prejudice which 
 had long obfcur'd their Excellencies ; 'tis to be 
 
 Vol. i. d hop'd 
 
1 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 hop'd that our Eyes are now inui'd to bear the 
 Luftre of fuch Poets, who moft rcfembic thefc Suns 
 of Britain. To fuch Readers therefore who are de- 
 firous of becoming acquainted with the Excellencies 
 o( Beaumcnf and Fletcher ^ I fliall beg leave to recom- 
 mend their Plays to be read in the following Order, 
 beginning with which Species they like beft. 
 
 c 
 
 L A 
 
 S 
 
 s 
 
 
 I. 
 
 Tragedifs and Tragi- 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 comedies. 
 
 Paftoral. 
 
 
 
 Comedies. 
 
 Maid's Tragedy Yol. I 
 
 Faithful Sbepherdefi 
 
 vol. 
 
 3 
 
 Elder Brother vol. x 
 
 Philafter vol. i 
 
 
 
 
 
 Rule a Wife and have a 
 
 King and no King vol. i 
 
 
 
 
 
 Wife vol. J 
 
 The Two Noble Kinfmen 
 
 
 
 
 
 Little French Lawyer vol. 4 
 
 vol. lO 
 
 
 
 
 
 Wit without Money vol. 2. 
 
 The Double Marriage 
 
 
 
 
 
 Spanijh Curate vol, a 
 
 vol. 7 
 
 
 
 
 
 Nice Valour, or Paflionate 
 
 The Bloody Brother, or 
 
 
 
 
 
 Mad.Man vol. 10 
 
 Rollo vol. 5 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 The Falfe One vol. 4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 The Knight of Malta 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 vol. 7 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Vahntinian vol. 4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 c 
 
 L A 
 
 S 
 
 s 
 
 
 II. 
 
 Laws of Candy vol. 4 
 
 Eurlef^ue 
 
 Sublime. 
 
 
 Fair Maid of the Mill. 
 
 Loyal Subje<£} vol. 3 
 
 
 
 
 
 Fair Maid of the Inn. 
 
 The Ifland Princefs vol. 8 
 
 
 
 
 
 Wild-goofe Chafe. 
 
 Thierry and Tbeodoret 
 
 
 
 
 
 Mcnfieur Thomas. 
 
 vol. 10 
 
 
 
 
 
 The Chances. 
 
 Wife for a Month vol. 5 
 
 
 
 
 
 Honeft Man's Fortune. 
 
 Btnduca vol. 6 ' 
 
 
 
 
 
 Cuftom of the Country. 
 
 Beggar's Bu/h. 
 
 The Captain. 
 
 The Sea- Voyage. 
 
 Love's Cure, or the Martial 
 
 Maid. 
 Coxcomb. 
 
 
 The Knight of the Burning 
 
 Woman- Hater. 
 
 
 Peftle 
 
 
 vol. 
 
 6 
 
 Wit at feveral Weapons. . 
 Women pleas'd. 
 Tamer tam'd. 
 
 CLASS 
 
 The Coronation vol. 9 
 TheQueenof Cori«/£i vol. 6 
 The Lover's Progrefs vol. 5 
 The Prophetefs vol. 6 
 
 Cupid't Revenge vol. 9 
 
 Mask vol. 10 
 
 Moral Reprefentations 
 
 vol. 10 
 
 III. 
 
 Pilgrim 
 
 Love's Pilgrimage 
 Night-Walker 
 Noble Gentleman 
 
 vol. 5 
 vol. 7 
 vol. g 
 vol. S 
 
 The 
 
PREFACE. H 
 
 The Reader will find many excellent things in 
 this laft Clafs, for the Plays of our Authors do not 
 differ from each other near fo much as thole of 
 Shakcfpear. The three lait Tragedies are detruded 
 fo low on Account of their Magic and Machinery, 
 in which our Authors fill lliorter of Shake fpcar than 
 in any other of their Attempts to imitate him. 
 What is the Reafon of this ? Is it that their Genius 
 improv'd by Literature and polite Convcrfation, 
 could well defcribe Men and Mafifiers^ but had not 
 that poetic that creati've Power to form new Beings 
 and new WiDrlds, 
 
 ■ afid give fo airy Nothings 
 
 A local Habitation and a Name.- 
 
 as Shakefpear excellently defcribes his own Genius ? 
 I believe not. The Enthufiafin of PaJJions which 
 Beaumont and Fletcher are fo frequently rapt into, 
 and the vafl: Variety of diftinguidi'd Chara(fters 
 which they have fo admirably drawn, fliew as ftrong 
 Powers of Invention as the Creation of Witches and 
 raifing of Ghofts. Their Deficiency therefore in 
 Magic is accountable from a Caufe far different 
 from a Poverty of Imagination \ it was the accidental 
 Dijadvantage of a liberal atid learned Educatiofi : 
 Sorcery^ Witchcraft^ AJlrology^ Ghofls, and Appari- 
 tions^ were then the univerfal Belief of both the 
 great Vulgar and the finally nay they were even the 
 Parliamentary^ the National Creed -^ only fome early- 
 enlightned Minds faw and contemn'd the whole fu- 
 perftitious Trumpery : Among thefe our Authors 
 were probably initiated from their School-days into 
 a deep-grounded Contempt of it, which breaks out 
 in many parts of their Works, and particularly in 
 
 d 2 Ihe 
 
lii PREFACE. 
 
 The Bloody Brother and 7be Fair Maid of the Luiy 
 where diey began that admirable Banter which the 
 excellent Butler carry'd on exactly in the fame 
 Strain, and which, with fuch a Second^ has at laft 
 drove the Bugbears from the Minds of almoft all 
 Men of common Underilanding. But here was 
 our Authors Difad vantage j the Tafte of their Age 
 call'd aloud for the Affiilance of Ghojis and Sorcery 
 to heighten the Horror of T'ragedy ; this Horror 
 they had never felt, never heard of but with Con- 
 tempt, and confequently they had no Arcbe-fypes in 
 their own Breafts of what they were 'call'd on to 
 defcribe. Whereas Shakefpear from his low Educa- 
 tion had believ'd and felt all the Horrors he painted j 
 for tho' the Univerfities and Inns of Court were in 
 fome degree freed from thefe Dreams of Super- 
 ftition, the Banks of the Avon were then haunted on 
 every Side. 
 
 ^here tript with printlejs Foot the Elves of Hillsy 
 Brooks, Lakes, and Groves-, there Sorcery bedimn'd 
 ^he Noon-tide Sun, caWd forth the mutinous Winds, 
 And 'twixt the green Sea and the azur*d Vault 
 Set roaring Wap, &c. Tempefl:. 
 
 So that Shakefpear can fcarcely be faid to create a 
 new World in his Magic j he went but back to his 
 liative Country, and only drefs'd their Goblins in 
 poetic Weeds; hence ev*n T^hefeus is not attended 
 by his own Deities, Minerva, Venus, the Faum, 
 Satyrs, &c. but by Oberon and his Fairies : Whereas 
 our Authors however aukwardly they treat of Ghojis 
 and Sorcerers, yet when they get back to Greece 
 (which was as it were their native Soil) they intro- 
 duce the ClaJJic Deities with Eafe and Dignity, as 
 
 Fletcher 
 
PR E FACE. liii 
 
 Pletcher in particular does in his Faithful Shepherdefsy 
 and both of them in their Mash-^ the laft of which 
 is put in the third Clafs not from any Deficiency in 
 the Compofition, but from the Nature of the alle- 
 gorical Mask which,, when no real Charadlers are 
 intcrmix'd, ought in general to rank below Tragedy 
 and Comedy. Our Authors, who wrote them be- 
 caufe they were in Fafliion, have themfelves iTiew'd 
 how light they held them. 
 
 They muft commend their King^ and [peak inpratfs 
 Of the jlffembly'; blcfs the Bride and Bridegroom 
 In Perfon of fome God ^ thefre tfd to Rules 
 Of Flattery. 
 
 Maid's Tragedy, Adl i. Scene i. 
 
 This was probably wrote by Beaumont with an eye 
 to the Mask at Gray'^ Inn, as well as Masks in 
 general. The Reader will find a farther Account 
 of our Authors Plays, and what Share Mr. Shirley 
 is fuppos'd to have had in the Completion of fome 
 that were left imperfed: in Mr. Sympfo?i'i, Lives of 
 the Authors. But before I finilh my Account of 
 them, it is neceffary to apologife for a Fault which 
 muft (liock every modeft Reader : It is their fre^ 
 quent ufe of grofs and indecent Expreflions. They 
 have this Fault in common with Shakefpear^ who is 
 fometimes m.ore grofs than they ever arc ; but I think 
 Grofnefs does not occur quite fo often in him. In. 
 the fecond Clafs of Parallel PafTages where the 
 Hands of Shakefpear and our Authors were not 
 dirtinguilliable, 1 omitted one Inftance for Decency 
 fake, but I will infert it here as proper to the Sub- 
 jedt we are now upon. Fhila[ler being violently 
 agitated by Jealoufy, and firmly believing his Miftrefs 
 
 d 3 to 
 
liv PREFACE. 
 
 to have been loofe, thus fpeaks of a Letter which 
 
 he has jull receiv'd from her, 
 
 » . Q^ ^et all Women 
 
 'That love black 'Deeds leam to dijj'emhle here t 
 Here^ by this Papej', fie doth write to me. 
 As if her Heart were Mines of Adamant 
 ^0 all the World befide ; but unto me, 
 A Maiden Snow that melted with my Looks. 
 
 Vol. I . Page 1 3 1 , of this Edit. 
 
 Strength and Delicacy are here in perfed: Union. 
 In like manner tojlhinmis in Cymbeline^ A6t 2. agi- 
 tated by as violent a Jealoufy of his Wife, thus 
 defcribes her leeming Modefly : 
 
 Vengeance I Vengeance 
 
 Me of my urdful Pleafurejhe rejlrain'dy 
 And pray' d me oft Forbearance, did it with 
 A Pudency fo rofy, the fweet hook ont 
 Might well have warmed old Saturn 5 that I 
 
 thought her 
 As chajie as unfunn\i Snow. 
 
 This h a mod amiable Picftiirc of conjugal Delicacy, 
 but it may be y\i\y objecfted that it draws the Cur- 
 tains of the Marriage-bed, and expofcs it to the 
 View of the World; and if the Reader turns to 
 the Speech of which it is a Part, he will find 
 much grofl<:^r Expreilions in the Sequel. But thefe 
 were fo far from offending the Ears of our An- 
 ceflors, that Beaumont and Fletcher, tho' fo often 
 guilty of them, are perpetually celebrated by the 
 Writers of their own and of the following Age, as 
 the great Reformers of the Drama from Bawdry 
 
 and 
 
PREFACE. hi 
 
 and Ribaldry. Thus when Fletchers charming 
 Paftoral, T'he Faithful Shepherdefs, had been damn'd 
 by its firft Night's Audience, 'jonfon fays that they 
 damn'd it for want of the vitious and bawdy Scenes 
 which they had been accuftom'd to, and then 
 breaks out in a Rapture worthy of Jon/on^ worthy 
 of Fletcher. 
 
 I that am glad thy Imjocence ivas thy Guilt, 
 And voijh that all the Mufes Blood ivasfpilt 
 In fuch a Martyrdom, to vex their Eyes 
 Do crown thy murder d Pcemj &c. 
 
 Yet even this Pattern of Chaftity is not free from 
 ExpreiTions which would now be juftly dcem'd too 
 grofs for the Stage. Sir John Berkenhead^ fpeaking 
 of Fletcher's Works in general, fays, 
 
 And as thy Thoughts were clear ^ fo ijinocent^ 
 Thy Fancy gave ne unfwept Language Fe?2t, 
 Slander' Ji no Laws, prophan'Ji no holy Page, 
 As if thy * Father's Crofier rurd the Stage. 
 
 Our Poets frequently boaft of this Chajlity of Lan- 
 guage themfelves. See the Prologue to The Knight 
 oj the Burning Pejlle. Lovelace, a Poet of no 
 Imali Eminence, fpcaks of the great Delicacy of 
 Exprcffion ev'n in the Cujlom of the Coufitry. 
 
 View here a loofe Tljought faid with fuch a Grace ^ 
 Minerva 77jight have fpoke in Venus' Face, 
 So well difguisd, that 'twas conceiv'd by none^ 
 But Cupid had Diana'j Linnen on. 
 
 * Fletcher Bipo^ of London. 
 
 d 4 Yet 
 
Ivi PREFACE. 
 
 Yet of this Play Dry den afferts that it contains more 
 Bawdry than all his Plays together. What rnuft 
 we fay of thefc diffeient Accounts ? Why 'tis clear 
 as Day, that the Stile of the Age was fochang'd, that 
 what was formerly not efteem'd in the leaft Degree 
 indecent, Was now become very much fo ; juft as 
 in Chaucer, the very filthieft Words are us'd with- 
 out Difguile, and fays Beaumont in excufe for him, 
 he gave thole ExprefHons to low Charadcrs, with 
 whom they were then in common Ufe, and whom 
 he could not therefore draw naturally without them. 
 The fame Plea is now neceflary for Beaumont him- 
 felf and all his contemporary Dramatic Poets j but 
 there is this grand and effential Difference between 
 the grofs Expreffions of our old Poets, and the 
 more delicate he'wdnefi of modern Plays. In the 
 former, grofs Expreffions are generally the Lan- 
 guage of low Life, and are giv'n to Characflers which 
 are {€i in defpicable Lights : In the latter, Lewdnefs 
 is frequently the Charad:eriflic of the Hero of the 
 Comedy, and fo intended to inflame the Paflions 
 and corrupt the Heart. Thus much is nccefTary in 
 Dpfence, not only of our Authors, but of Mr. Symp- 
 fon and myfelf, for engaging in the Publication of 
 Works which contain a great many Indecencies, 
 which we could have wifh'd to have been omitted ; 
 and which, when I began to prepare my Part of 
 the Work for the Prefs, I had actually flruck off, as 
 far as I could do it without injuring the Conncdlion 
 of the Context ; but the Bookfcllers prefs'd, an4 
 indeed infifled upon their Reftoration : They very 
 fenfibly urged the lafl-mentioned Plea, and thought 
 that the bare Notion of a curtail'd Edition would 
 greatly prejudice the Sale of it. We hope therefore 
 that the Reader will not be too fevere on the Editors 
 
PREFACE. Ivii 
 
 of Warks which h-Ave great Excellencies, and which 
 in genereal tend to promote Virtue and Chaftity, 
 the' the Cuilom of the ^ge made the Authoi-s not 
 entirely abflain from ExprelTions not then er.eem'd 
 grofs, but which now mud offend every modeft Ear* 
 
 Hitherto we have treated of our Authors and 
 their Merit, fomething muft be added of the At^ 
 tempt of the prefent Editors to clear them from 
 that Mafs of Confufion and Obfcurity flung upon 
 them by the Inaccuracy of former Editors, or what 
 was worfe, by the Wilfulnefs and Ignorance of out 
 old Players, who kept moll of their Plays m^ny 
 Years in Manufcript as mere Play-houfe Properties, 
 to be changed and mangled by every new Ador's 
 Humour and Fancy. As this was the Cafe of moft 
 of our old Plays, the learned Mr. Upton feems 
 ftrangely miftaken in afierting that no more Liberty 
 ought to be taken in the Corredlion of the old 
 [mangled] Text of Shakefpear^ than with the two 
 firft [accurate] Editions of Paradife Lo/}.. Upon 
 this groundlefs AflTcrtion are built thofe very un- 
 deferved Reile(5lions upon the eminent Editors of 
 Shakefpear who are compar'd to the Vice of the 
 old Comedy beating their Author's original Text 
 with their Daggers of Lath. Surely fomething very 
 different from fuch Sarcafm is due from every true 
 Lover of Shakejpear to thofe Editors whofe Emen- 
 dations have clear 'd fo many Obfcurities, and made 
 fo many Readers ftudy and perceive innumerable 
 Excellencies which had otherwife been pafs'd over- 
 unnoted and perhaps defpis'd. For verbal Criticifm^ 
 when it means the reftoring the true Reading to the 
 mangled Text, very iuftly holds the Palm from every 
 other Species of Criticifm, as it cannot be perform'd 
 
 with 
 
Ivlii PR E FACE. 
 
 with Saccefs without comprehending all the refl: ; it 
 muft clearly perceive the Stile, Manner, Chara(flcrs, 
 Beauties and Defeats : And to this n:iuft be added fomc 
 Sparks of that original Fire that animated the Poet's 
 own Invention. No fooner therefore were Criticifms 
 wrote on our Englijh Poets, but each deep- read 
 Scholar whofc feverer Studies had made him frown 
 with contempt on Poems and Plays, was taken in 
 to read, to ftudy, to be enamour'd : He rcjoic'd to 
 try his Strength with the Editor, and to become a 
 Critic himfelf : Nay, even Dr. Be?itkfs ftrangc 
 Abiurdities in his Notes on Milton., had this good 
 Effwift, that they engag'd a Pierce to anfwer, and 
 perhaps were the firft Motives to induce the greateft 
 Poet^ the moft univerfal Genius, One of the greateft 
 Orators^ and One • of the moft ifiduftrious Scholars 
 in the Kingdom each to become Editors of Shakef- 
 pear. A Pope, a WarburtoJi, and a Han?ner did 
 Honour to the Science by engaging in Criticifm ; but 
 the Worth of that Science is moft apparent from 
 the Di(lin(ftion Mr. Theobald gain'd in the learned 
 World, who had no other Claim to Honour but 
 as a Critic on Shakefpear. In this Light his Fame 
 remains frefh and unblafted tho' the Lightning of 
 Mr. Pope and the Thunder of Mr. Warburton have 
 been both lanch'd at his Head. Mr. Pope being 
 far too great an Original himfelf to fubmit his own 
 Tafte to that of Shakefpear ?, was fairly driven out 
 of the Field of Criticifm by the plain force of 
 Reafon and Argument} but he foon retir'd to his 
 poetic Citadel, and from thence play'd fuch a Volley 
 of IV it and Humour on his Ajitagonifl, as gave him 
 a very grotefque Profile on his Left ; but he never 
 drove him from his Hold on Shakefpear, and his 
 Countenance on that Side is ftill clear and unfpotted, 
 
 Mr. 
 
PREFACE. Kx 
 
 Mr. War hurt Otis Attack was more dangerous, but 
 tho' he was angry from the apprehenfion of perfonai 
 Injuries, yet his Judice has flill left Mr. 'Theobald \n 
 pofTeilion of great Numbers of excellent Emenda- 
 tions, which will always render his Name refpedlablc. 
 The mention of the Merit of Criticifm in cflabliOi- 
 ing the Tafte of the Age, in raifmg Refpedt in the 
 Contemptuous, and Attention in the carelefs Readers 
 of our old Poets, naturally leads us to an Enquiry. 
 Whence it comes to pafs, that whilft almoft every 
 One buys and reads the Works of our late Critical 
 Editors, nay almoft every Man of Learning aims at 
 imitating them and making Emendations himfelf, 
 yet it is ftill the Fafliion to fiurt at the Names of 
 Critic and Commentatory and almoft to treat the 
 very Science with Derifion. The Enquiry has been 
 often made by Critics themfelves, and all have faid, 
 that it was owing to the ftrange Miftakes and Blunders 
 of former Critics, to Mens engaging in a Science which 
 they had neither Learning nor Talents to manage and 
 adorn. Each thinking himfelf exempt from theCen- 
 fure, and each having it retorted upon him in his 
 Turn. If this is the Cafe, I'm afraid all Remedy 
 is hopelefs ; if the great Names above-mentioned 
 did really want Abilities for the Province they under- 
 took, who flmll dare to hope that hepofTefles them ? 
 If frequent Miftakes in an Editor are totally to link 
 his Merit, who can efcape the common Wreck ?— 
 But I am far from thinking this to be the fole or 
 even the principal Caufe j and the two, which I 
 fliall aflign as much greater Inlets to this Difgrace on 
 the Art of Criticifm, are fuch as admit of the calieft 
 Remedy in the World, a Remedy in the Power 
 of Critics themfelves, and which their own Intereft 
 loudly calls on them all to apply. The lirft Caufe 
 
 isi 
 
Ix PREFACE, \ 
 
 is ; that in a Science the moft fallible of all others, 
 depending in a great Meafure on the tottering Bot- 
 tom of mere CoiyeBiire^ almoft every Critic affiimcs 
 the Air of Certainty ^ Pofttivenefs and Infallibility ; 
 he feems fure never to mifs his Way, tho' in a Wil- 
 dernefs of Confufion, never to flunible in a Path al- 
 ways gloomy, and fometimes as dark as Midnight. 
 Hence he dogmatizes^ when he ihould only propofe^ 
 and didates his Giiejfes in the Defpotic Stile. The 
 Reader, and every Rival Editor, catches the fame 
 Spirit, all his Faults become unpardonable, and the 
 Demerit of a few Miftakes fhall o'erv/helm the Me- 
 rit of all his jult Emendations : He deems himfclf 
 perfecft, and Perfcdtion is demanded at his Hands ; 
 and this being no where elfe found but by each Writer 
 in his own Works, every Putterforth of two or 
 three Emendations fvvells as big, and flings his Spittle 
 as liberally on a Warburton^ a Hanme}\ or a T^heo- 
 bald, as if he were the Giant and they the Dwarfs 
 of Criticifm ; and he has, upon the Suppofition of 
 Perfe<Stion being neceffary, this evident Advantage 
 of them, that an Editor of three or four Emenda- 
 tions has a much better Chance to avoid Miftakes 
 than the Editors of three or four thoufand ; tho' it 
 has generally happen'd, that they who were very ob* 
 fcure in Merit have had their Demerits as glaring a& 
 the moft voluminous Editors. 
 
 From the fime Source arifes the fecond ftill more 
 remai-kable Caufe of Critical Difgrace, it is the /// 
 laangudge and nngentleman-like Treat?nent which 
 Critics have fo frequently given their Rivals. If the 
 Profeflbrs of the fame Science are continually cuffing 
 and buffeting each other, the World will fet them 
 on, laugh at, and enjoy the ridiculous Scufflle. Is 
 it not amazing, that ignorant^ abfiird, blundering 
 
 Dunces 
 
PREFACE. Ixi 
 
 JDimces and Blockheads Ihould be the common Epi- 
 thets and Titles, that Gentlemen of Learning and 
 liberal Education bertow on each other, for fuch 
 Miftakes as they know that all their Brother Critics 
 have been conftantly guilty of, and which nothing 
 but the vaineft Self-fufficiency can make them fup- 
 pofe themfelves exempt from ? 
 
 'ebeu 
 
 ^lam tetnere in ?iofmet Legem fancimus iniqu am ! 
 
 If we ourfelves are guilty of the very fame fort of 
 Miftakes for which we lligmatize others as Blun- 
 derers and Blockheads, we brand our own Foreheads by 
 our own VerdiB, Obloquy upon us is bare jfujiicey and 
 we become Blunderers and Blockheads upon Record. 
 The iirft remarkable Introducer of Critical Editions of 
 our Englijh Poets thought his fuperior Learning gave 
 him a Right to tyrannize and trample upon all his 
 Rival Editors ; but having none to exercife his Fury 
 upon, in his Edition of Paradife Lofly he raifed 
 a Fhantom Editor^ in the Perfon of whom he 
 flung Dirt upon Miltcn himfelf. But the pre- 
 fent worthy Bijl^o^ of Bangor not only clear'd 
 his beloved Poet from fuch unjuft Afperfions, but 
 fhew'd that he could anfwer Slander, Sneer and 
 Obloquy, with Decency, Candour, and good Man- 
 ners. Happy had it been for the learned World, 
 had thofe excellent Notes been at firit joined to 
 Milton's Text j that bis Candour ^ and not the other's 
 Coarfenefs^ might have been the Standard of Critical 
 Language ; but as great Part of thofe Notes are now 
 engrafted into Dr. Newton's elegant Edition, it is to 
 be hop'd that they will henceforth become fo. 
 Happy for us had it been too, if Sir Thomas Hanmer 
 
 had 
 
Ixii PREFACE. 
 
 had carry'd on that Candour and good Manners which 
 appear in his Preface into a Body of Notes upon his 
 Author -y he had not only placed his Emendations 
 in a much fairer and more confpicuous Light ; he 
 had not only avoided the Objedion which fome 
 have made of an arbitrary Infertion of his Altera- 
 tions into the Text ; but he would have fet us an 
 Example of Elegance and Politencfs of Stile, which 
 we muft perhaps in vain hope for from any Man, 
 that has not been long exercifed in one of the great 
 Schools of Rhetoric^ the HouJ'es of Parliament j 
 unlefs fome other e?mne}it Orator or another Speaker 
 fhould become an Editor, as well as a Patron of 
 Criticifms. Mr. Theobald, who was a much better 
 Critic on Shakefpear than Dr. Bentley had been on 
 Milton J yet follow'd the Dodor's Stile and Manner, 
 and in fome meafure deferv'd the Lafli he fmarted 
 under in the Dunciad, for tho' he had a right to 
 corre(fl Mr. Pope'% Errors upon Shakefpear.^ he had 
 none to ufe fo exalted a Character with the lead 
 Difrefpedt, much lefs with Derifion and Contempt. 
 Mr. XJpton a Gentleman of very diftinguifli'd Litera- 
 ture, has in his Remarks on Shakefpear follow'd this 
 Stile of Triumph and Infult over his Rival Critics, 
 and as this Gentleman will, I hope, long continue 
 his Services to the learned World, I will endeavour 
 to convince him of the Injuftice and ill Policy of 
 fucli Treatment of them. The befl Canon to judge 
 of an Editor's Merits, feems to be a Computation of 
 the good and bad Alterations which he has made in 
 the Text ; if the latter are predominant he leaves 
 his Author worfe than he found him, and Demerits 
 only appear at the bottom of the Account : If the 
 good are moft numerous, put the bad ones on the 
 fide of Debtor^ hallance the whole, and we fliall 
 
 eafily 
 
PR E FACE. Ixiii 
 
 cafily fee what Praifes are due to him. Now if 
 fome hundred good Ones remain upon Ballancc to 
 each of the three .laft Editors of Shakejpear^ how 
 unjuft is it for a Publifher of only thirty or forty 
 Aherations (fuppofing them all to be perfectly juft) 
 to fpeak with contempt of thofe, whofe Merits are 
 fo much more confpicuous than his own ? But to 
 do this, without an AfTurance of being himfelf 
 exempt from the like Miftakes, is as iftipolitic as it 
 is iinjuft. I have not now time for an Examination 
 of thib Gentleman's Criticifms on Shake/pear -, but 
 I will choofe a very particular Specimen oj his MiJiakeSy 
 for it fhali be the very fame which a real Friend of 
 this Gentleman publifh'd as a Specimefi of his Excel- 
 lencies/m Mr. DodJIey's Mufaum, a monthly Pamphlet 
 then in great Repute. This Specimen confifted of 
 two Alterations which the Letter- Writer thought 
 very happy ones. The firft was in Antony and 
 Cleopatra., A(5l 2. Sc. 4. The Soothfayer thus ad- 
 vifes Antony to lliun the Society of Cafar, 
 
 - Antony, /lay not by his Side. 
 
 Thy Daemon, that's thy Spirit ivhich keeps thee, is 
 Noblf, couragious^ bighy wunatchahky 
 Where Caefar'j is not. But near him thy Angel 
 Becofnes a Fear. 
 
 i. e. becomes not only fearful but ev'n Fear itfelf^ 
 The Image is extremely poetical ; for as Antony'^ 
 Damon was according to the Heathen Theology 
 perfoniz'd and made fomething different from Antony^ 
 fo the Paffion of Fear is not only perfonizd^ but 
 ev'n pluraliz'd: The Imagination beholds many 
 Fears^ and Antonf% Spirit becomes one of them. 
 
 Thus 
 
Ixiv PREFACE. 
 
 Thuo Doubts and Fears arc ptrfoniz'd in Macbeth^ 
 ^d becoiiic his vexatious Companions, 
 
 '■ ■ " Tfn cabin d, crib'dy bound in 
 
 Ilo fawcy Doubts and Fears. 
 
 Thus God himfelf perfonizes Fear^ and fends Jtf 
 among the Ca?7aa?iit^s as the Harbinger of IfraeJ. 
 Exodus xxiii. and xxvii. And again in Ezekiel xxx. 
 13. He fays, / ivill put a Fear in the Land of 
 Egypt. Thus the Companions of Mars in Homer 
 are A^.fjLci r nH ^o^ss. A. 440. Terror and Fear. 
 But the Inftance the moH: appofite, is in "The Maid's 
 'Tragedy, where the forlorn Affatia fees her Servant 
 working the Story of Tkefeus and Ariadne, and 
 thus adviiies her to punifh the Perfidy of the former. 
 
 /;/ this Place 'work a ^ick-fand. 
 
 And over it a fiallo-w fmiling Water, 
 
 And his Ship ploughing it 3 and then a Fear, 
 
 Do that Fear bravely. Vol. I. p. 3, 
 
 Here tho' Fear could only in Painting be exprcfs'd 
 on their Countenances, yet Peetry goes farther. 
 
 -and gives to airy Nothings 
 
 A local Habitation and a 'Name. 
 
 Thefe are thofe great Strokes which a Man muft 
 be born with a Soul to perceive as well as write, 
 otherwife not all the Reading of an Upton or a 
 Bentky can give the leaft Idea of them. Thefe are 
 thofe inimitable Graces of Poetry which a Critic^ 
 Pencil Ihould no more dare to retouch than a 
 
 modern 
 
PREFACE. Ixv 
 
 modern Painter fliould the Cheek or Eye of a 
 Raphael Madona. For fee how flat and dim it 
 will appear in this Gentleman's celebrated Alteration, 
 he reads, 
 
 . but near him thy Angel 
 
 Becomes afear'd *. How 
 
 * There is a Paffage in Anthonys Anfwer to this Speech, which feeim 
 mifunderftood by all the Editors of Shake/pear. Anthony confirming 
 what the Soothfayer had faid of Cafar\ fuperior Fortune, adds, 
 
 Tl^e fvery Dice obey him^ 
 
 And in our Sport i my better C\inn\x\g faints 
 Under his Chance. Jf <u;e draiv Lots, he fpeeJs; 
 His Cocks do ivin the Battel JJ ill of minty 
 When it is all to nought ; and his ^ails ever 
 Beat mine in-hoop'd at odds. " ■■ 
 
 Here is evidently a fad Anti- climax: His Cocks win the Battle of mInQ 
 when it is all to nought on my Side, and his Quails, fighting in a Hoopy 
 beat mine when the Odds are on my Side. What a falling off is there! 
 Sir Thomas Haiimer choofes to make the ^ail-fghting be in Coops ra- 
 ther than Hoops, and reads in-coofd; but the Anti-climax is ilill the 
 fame; and, I believe, arofe originally only from the mifplacing tho 
 Hyphen, and the Omiffion of a Letter. Spelling, indeed, was very un- 
 detcrmin'd in that Age, and to ivhoop or hollow, might have been 
 fpelt hoopy without the w ; I read therefore, 
 
 ' and his ^ails ever 
 
 Beat mine in whoop'd-at Odds,— 
 
 i. e. when the Odds are fo great, that the Betters on my Side f:>out 
 and <vjhoop for Viftory. All who have been in a Cock-pit will have a 
 clear Idea of this: Flatnefs and Anti-climax will be avoided, and the 
 foaring Spirit oi Shake/pear will recover its own Vigour. The firll old 
 Folio has no Hyphen, but reads thus. 
 
 Beat mine (in hoopt) at Odds. 
 
 The Parenthefis feems added as a Confeffion that they did not know 
 what to make of the Words in hoopt. This Emendation is ftill farther 
 confirm'd by a very jull and learned Obfervation of Mr. Up{on, who 
 has given a Key to Aithtnys Charafler, as drawn by Shakfpcar, which 
 thews the Poei'b great Accuracy in Charaflerillics. He obl'erves from 
 Plutarch, that Anthony affedtcd the afiatic Stile in common Difcourfe ; 
 ,Voj,. I, • which 
 
Ixvi PREFACE. 
 
 How fliould we have flatned our Authors if we 
 had, as the Reheai-fal calls it, tranfprosd them in the 
 like manner ? In 
 
 which was, fays Cicero, <verhts volucre et incitatum, exornatum et nimit 
 redundans. I have before obferv'd that the Af:atic Stile and Sentiments 
 are from the Scriptures adopted by the EttgHjh, and particularly by 
 Shake/pear; but he has given both Anthony and Cleopatra a Rapidity 
 and Boldnefi of Metaphors that approaches even to Phrenfy, which was 
 peculiarly proper to their Characters. Of this I Ihall give an Inftance, 
 which, i think, has been hitherto mifunderftocd in two if not more 
 Places. Aa i. Scene 6. Cleopatra is talking of Aiithovy then in Romtt 
 and fays of him. 
 
 He s fpeahlng mn.v. 
 
 Or miirtnring, where's my Serpent of old Uilt f 
 
 For fo he calls me ; mijo I feed myfelf 
 
 With mojl delicious Poifon : Think on me 
 
 7hat am njoith Phoebus' atfi'rous Pinches hlack. 
 
 And 'zurinkled deep in Time. Broad-fronted Ca^far, 
 
 When thou n.i'aji here above the Ground^ I ivas 
 
 A Morfelfor a Monarchy &C. 
 
 The Editions which diftinguifh Anthony's Speech, either by Italics or 
 Commas, make him only fay, nx:here''s my Serpent of old Nile? the reft 
 is Cleopatra % own. But furely it is a ftrange Compliment only to call 
 her a Serpe?!t of Nile. And why then does Ihe mentioa it as a Wonder 
 that he fhould fay fuch rapturous things of her in her Decline of Life ? 
 No, Anthony's Speech fhould be continued as the Metaphor is, 
 
 Where's my Serpent of old Nile ? 
 
 ■ » N<nu I feed myfelf 
 With mojl delicious Pcifon. 
 
 Both Parts belong to him ; and then (he goes on, Tlrirk, fays fJi?, 
 that he utters fuch Raptures as thefe on me, tho no^yj I'.-rinkled deep 
 in Time. But after this, why is Cafar call'd hroadfronted? Is 
 there the lead ground from Medals, Statues, or FliHory, for fuch a 
 Defcription of him ? No, but the very Reverfe. Look on his Medals, 
 and particularly on the fine Bronze at Dr. Mead's, and you'll find that 
 he has a remarkably f^arp Forehead, But there is a Peculiarity ia 
 Cafars Forehead mention'd by all Hiftorians, and confiim'd by Medal$ 
 and Statues. He was bald, and boafted that he would cover his Temples 
 
PR E FACE. Ixvii 
 
 In this Place work a ^ickfandy 
 
 And over it a fiallow fmiling Water ^ 
 
 And his Ship ploughing it^ and them afear'd ; 
 
 T>o their Fear bravely. The 
 
 with Laurels inftead of Hair; and for that purpofe, after he Was DiV- 
 tatoff conllantly wore his Laurel-Crown. I read therefore. 
 
 — Bald-/ro«/*</ Cafar. 
 
 It is perfeflly in Charader for Cleopatra to mention a Blemifh in Cafar, 
 for (he a little below (hews a Contempt for his Memory, in comparifon 
 of her Anthony. In the fame Scene there are two other ExprelCons 
 which feem not hitherto underftood; Alexas giving an Account of 
 Anthony^ MelTage to Cleopatra: 
 
 Alex. Good Friend, quoth be. 
 
 Say the firm Roman to great Mgy^i fends 
 
 This Treafure of an Oyjler ', at ivhofe Foot, 
 
 To mend the petty Prefent, I nui/l piece 
 
 Her opulent Throne 'with Kingdoms. All the Eajl^ 
 
 Say thou, /hall call her Mijirefs. So he nodded , 
 
 And foherly did mount an Arm-gaunt Stted^ 
 
 Who neighed fo high, that <what I iioould hwve fpoke. 
 
 Was, Beajl-like, dumUd by him. 
 
 To piece, to this Day fignifies to join two Pieces together, or to fallen 
 new Parts to any thing, as to piece a Rope, to piece a Beam, &c. Ta 
 piece her Throne icith Kingdoms is therefore exceedingly clear. I will 
 join new Kingdoms to her Dominions, and make her Queen of Afa as 
 well as JEgypt. . This Senfe feems to have been overlook'd by Sir Thomas 
 Hanmer and Mr. (^''arburton, or elfc I know not w^hy they chang'd ic 
 to pace, which feems much more obfcure than the former. Sir Thomas 
 makes another Change in theie Lines, for aim-gaunt he reads arm-girt: 
 I fuppofe he meant ^with Arms or Shoulders bound round 'vAth Trappings, 
 The Expreflion is very lliff in this Senfe, and juftly rejetled by .Mr. War- 
 burton, who reftores arm-gaunt, and explains it of a War-Horfe grown 
 gaunt or lean by long Maixnes and frequfnt Fights. But why mult 
 Anthony, after a profound Peace and a long Revel in the Arms of CUo' 
 patra upon his Return to Rome, have nothing to ride but an old batter'd 
 lean War-Horfe? Befide, lean Horfes are leldom remarkable like this 
 for neighing loud and vigoroufly . By Arm we all underltand the Shoulder^ 
 
 V z ia 
 
Ixviii PREFACE. 
 
 The fecond Inftance quoted in the Mufaum as a 
 Proof of Mr. Uptofi's Excellency, is his Alteration 
 of another of Sbahcjpcars peculiar Graces in the 
 following celebrated PafTage. 
 
 Ay J but to dle^ and go we biow jiot where-. 
 
 To He in cold Ohftruciiony and to rot : 
 
 Tbisfefifible warm Motion to become 
 
 A kneaded Clod^ and the delighted Spirit 
 
 To bathe in fiery Floods, or to re fide 
 
 In thrilling Regions of thick-ribbed Ice, 
 
 The Epithet delighted in the fourth Line is extremely 
 beautiful, as it carries on the fine Antithefis between 
 the Joys of Life and the Horrors of Death. This 
 fenfible warm Motion mufi become a kneaded Clod, 
 and this Spirit, delighted as it has hitherto been 
 with the foothing Delicacies of Senfe and the pleafing 
 Ecflafies of youthful Fancy, miift bathe in fiery 
 Floods. This is peculiarly proper from a Youth jult 
 fnatch'd from Revelry and Wantonnefs, to fuffcr 
 the anguifh and Horror of a fhameful Death. But 
 this beautiful Senfe not being feen, Mr. Upton makes 
 the firfl: Editor furprifingly blind indeed, for he fays 
 
 in Latin, Armusi gaunt is lean or thin. It is common for Poets to 
 mention the moft dillinguilh'd Beauty of any thing to exprcfs Beauty 
 in general, by Synecdoche a Part is put for the whole : Arm-gaunt therefore 
 lign fies thinjkoulder dy which we know to be one of the principal Beauties 
 of a Hoi fe, and the Epithet has, from the uncommon ufe of either part 
 of the compound Word in this Senfe, an antique Dignity and Grandeur 
 in Sound that Poets much delight in. 
 
 But i mull lupprefs this Career in Criticifing on Shakcfpear. Thefe 
 Paffages have fall'n directly in my way, and one feldom opens a Scene 
 of hib where one meets not many Objefls of new Criticifms, tho' Men 
 of fuch great Abilities and Learning have been before us, and poffeis'd 
 Chemfelves of the molk remarkable. 
 
 that 
 
PR E FACE. Ixlx 
 
 that he did not fee the Abfurdity of a Spirit's being 
 delighted to bathe in fiery Floods. Upon fuppofition 
 therefore of this Abfurdity being chargeable on the 
 old Text, he alters delighted Spirit to delinquent 
 Spirit: A Change which totally lofes the whole 
 Spirit of the Poet's original Sentiment. Thefe are 
 fuch Miftakes, that neither the moll: extenfive 
 Literature nor the Accuracy of a hockeh Judgment 
 can fecure a Man from j nor indeed any thing but a 
 Poetic Ta/ie, a Soul that 
 
 Is of Iniagiiiation all compaB, 
 That can follow Shakefpear in his ftupendous Flights, 
 Andjl:)00t from Earth to Heav'n, from Hcav'n to 
 
 Earth. Midfummer N ight's Dream, 
 
 But fhould fuch a Genius contemn and deride 
 Men of cooler Reafon and fuperior Knowledge ? 
 No; nor fhould the deep-read Scholar defpife him. 
 Great Learning and Qujcknefs of Parts very rarely 
 meet in one Bread : When they do, they are excel- 
 lent indeed ; but feparately they are extremely va- 
 luable. Far therefore from Contempt or Variance, 
 they fhould, like Sifter-Sciences, love and accord, 
 and each in Honour prefer the other to itfelf Mr. 
 Upton pofTefTes the firft of thefe Characters in a very 
 eminent Degree, and the -f- learned World have only to 
 
 complain 
 
 -f- This Gentleman has given us a Specimen of an Edition of the 
 Greek Tejlament which he is preparing for the Public, and it is quite 
 amazing that the Precepts of that Book have not prevail'd with him to 
 lay afide the Stile of Infult on all his Fellow-Labourers in the Explana- 
 tion of the Gofpel. He propofes a Solution of two remarkable Diffi- 
 culties ; and all the venerable and learned Names the Hammonds, 
 tVhitbys.) PriJeauxes, 5cc, as well as thofe of other Nations and Ages 
 who have before attempted to folve them, he calls weak Defenders, 
 and their Attempts ridiculous. 
 
 e 3 One 
 
Ixx PREFACE. 
 
 complain of his impofing mere Conjectures upon them 
 for abfolute Certainties, and of his rough Treatment 
 of 
 
 One of the Paflages \s Mattheiu \\. 23. j4nJ he came and dnjcelt 
 in a City calld Nazareth, that it might be fulfilled ivhich luas fpoken bj 
 the Prophets, He Jkallbe calTd a Nazarene. 
 
 The Difficulty here is, to find any Prophefy in the Old Teftament, 
 that does exprefly aflert Chriji's being to be call'd a Nazarene. To this 
 many of the ancient Chriftians fay, that the Apoftle refers to fome 
 Writings of the Prophets then extant, but which are now loft. But 
 St. Jerom, and from him Dr. Whitby, has given the following Solu- 
 tion of the Difficulty. The Evangelifts when they refer to a particular 
 Prophefy, fpeak in the fingular Number, hy the Prophet ; but here it 
 is in the Plural, S'ld 7i>v -OTOo^inT&S^r, by the Prophets; fo that St. Mat- 
 theav, fays St. Jerom, does rot refer to any particular Prophefy, as in 
 other Inftances, but to the Senfe of the ancient Prophefies in general, 
 which were, that Chrifi fhould be an Alien to his Brethren, and a Foreigner 
 to his Mother s Sons, ^at he fi:)culd fuff'cr Reproach and Shame, that he 
 Jhould be de/pis^ d and rejeSled^ &c. Thefe Prophefies were fulfilled in his 
 being call'd a Nazarene. For the Galileans in general were by the Jenus 
 held infamous. Search and look, for out ^/"Galilee arifeth no Prophet, fay the 
 whole Sanhedrim ; and Nazareth was the moft infamous of all the Towns 
 of Galilee. The juft Nathanael was fo carry'd away by prejudice againft 
 it, that it ftagger'd his Faith when Philip told him, that Jefus of 
 Nazareth was the Mcffiah. Can any good thing, fays he, come out of 
 Nazareth ? One Ben Nczer, a famous Robber of Nazareth had greatly 
 contributed to this Infamy on the Town, and we find by the Reception 
 the Nazarene s gave our Saviour when he firft preach'd amongft them 
 and declar'd himfclf the MeJ/iah; that they were really the moft hardned 
 in their Wickednefs of all the Cities of fudaa. The Jenus therefore 
 gave the Name of Nazarene to Chrifi, and Nazarcnes to Chriftians as 
 a high Mark of Infamy. And thus were the antient Prophefies relating 
 to the Infamy that Chrift was to fuftbr literally fulfill'd in his being 
 call'd a Nazarene. Add to this whatfeveral learned Men have obferv'd, 
 that Nazarcjie fignifies a Perfon feparate, as fofeph and Sampfion, two 
 eminent Types of Chrift were Nazarcnes, Pcrfons feparate to God, 
 and our Saviour their Jrche-Type, is faid by the Apoftle to be feparate 
 from Men in the nobleft Senfe of the Word, he was feparate from Sin, 
 the Holy One cf God. The Margin cf our Bibles refer us too to Ifaiah 
 xi. X. And there fiyall co7ne forth a Rod out of the Stem of Jeflle, and a 
 YitVLtT JhaU gro^M out of his Roots. Here the original Word, which is 
 tranflated Branch in the B^gUfi, fay Men well vers'd in Hebrew, is the 
 fame with the Nazarene, the feparate One, the holy One. — Dr. Whitby 
 does notafl'ent to this being fuIfiUd by his being call'd a Nazarene ; for, 
 hyt he, he was as much the Separate, the Holy One, before he dwelt 
 
 in 
 
PREFACE. Ixxi 
 
 of his Brother Critics, and then to acknowledge its 
 Obligations to him for many judicious Criticil'ms and 
 
 Emenda- 
 
 in Nazareth as after. — The Reafon feems quite inconclufive— and the 
 very learned Dr. Jackfon had long before Dr. Whithy fliew'd it to be fo j 
 for fays he. It well iuited the all-controlling Providence of God to 
 make the Enemies of Chriil give him by way of Reproach a Name 
 which he had preordain'd for him as a Name of Dignity and Honour. 
 Thus the Title on the Crofs — Jcfui the Nazarene the King of the Jews — 
 was Difgrace and Taunt in the Intentions of his Crucifiers, but in the 
 Counfels of God was Dignity and Truth. — But fays Mr. Upton of 
 fuch Solutions as thefe, 
 
 'Non tali auxilio, von Defcnforihus ijiis 
 < Tempus egct. 
 
 Had Dr. BentUy, fays he, taken the Paflage in hand, he would have 
 known what to defend, how far, and where to f!:op. For the Words 
 oTUi ■vrKrpa^v, &C. — that it might be fulfilled, Scc. are only the 
 margi?ial Note of fome CabalifJcal Jnnctatar. This he aflerts witJi as 
 much pofitivenefs as if he had been a Witnefs to fuch Infertion, and 
 knew the Method how it afterwards crept into the Text of every Manu- 
 fcript in every Church thro' the whole World; for no Pretence is added 
 of any fingle Manufcript fupporting this bold Attack on a Part of the 
 facred Text. If it may be fuppofed that fuch an Interpolation might have 
 infedled all the Copies that have reached our Age; is there the leaft 
 Probability that it could have infefted them all before St. 'Jercm, or that 
 fo very learned a Man as He fnould not have had the leaft Sufpicion of it ? 
 
 A fecond DifficuUy which Mr. Upton would folve in the fame 
 manner, is in Luke ii. i. There •went out a Decree from Casfar Au- 
 guftus that all the World JJjould be taxed^ and this Taxing nvas frji made 
 Kvhen Cyrenius nvas Governor o/" Syria. Now it is certain, that Cyrenius 
 was not Governor of Syria till above Ten Years after the Birth of our 
 Saviour. So that the Times do not coincide. The Fa£l was this ; 
 Augujlus, three Years before our Saviour's Birth, order'd that an En- 
 rollment fliould be made of the Names, Families, and Pofleflions of all 
 the Roman Empire, in order to lay a Tax upon them. As this took up 
 fome Years in being executed, it reached Jud.sa the third Year at the 
 very Time of our Saviour's Birth. Bjt Jud^a not being then reduced 
 to a Roman Province, but govern'd by its own King?, no Tax was 
 levied in confequence of this Enrollment till about eleven Years after- 
 wards, when Archelaus the Son of Herod being banifh'd, Judtea was 
 made a Province and the Tax defign'd was then levied, not with- 
 out violent Oppofition and great Bioodfhcd. To clear the Evangel ift, 
 (who being a Man of Learning could not err, had he had no divine 
 Alfiftance, in fo notorious a Faft) Dr. Pridcaux tranflates the Pafiage 
 
 e 4 thus : 
 
Ixxli PR E FACE. 
 
 Emendations on Shakefpcar and other Authors. 
 
 ^hakefpear alone is a vafi Garden of Criticifm, where 
 
 thp' 
 
 thus: '^AfTii M A-rcyrsz], -vau-rn ty'i-.ir- This Tax firft took 
 
 efFe»5l or was firft levied when Cyrenius was Governor of Syria. It was 
 only an Enrollment before, but then it became a Tax. Dr. Whitby 
 offers another Interpretation, which has fince been almoft univerfally 
 adopted by all Men of Learning before Mr. Upton. This Enrollment 
 TD(i>T>i iyt.-rc, was prior to that which hapned when Cyrenius was 
 Governor, &c. And that the Word -tp&!tm moft generally bears that 
 Senfe in the Scriptures, he produces four Inftances from the Septuagint, 
 four from the Evangelifts, and to prove it Greek gives one from Arifla- 
 phancs. He farther adds, that the flightett change of the Letters rrpg 
 T)K inlkad of ■- • . m will givcthis Senfe indifputably. But Dr. Whitby 
 is unwilling to make the lealt Change without abfolute Keceflity. Not fo 
 Mr. Uj^foa, he pronounces abfolutely, that the Words are fpurious and 
 nothing but a marginal Note of fome Perfon ignorant in Chronology, 
 which fome Tranfcriber inferted into the Text, and the Error was pro- 
 pagated from Copy to Copy. This is really a Boldncfs and Extrava- 
 gance of Criticifm as great as any which this Gentleman complains of 
 in £iv Thomas Hanmer, and of ten millions of times worfe Confequence. 
 Sir Thomas, in expunging or changing whole Sentences of Shake/pear, 
 could plead the length of Time which moft of his Plays continued in 
 Manufcript amongft the Players, and the unlimited and unaccountable 
 Liberties which every new Aftor took, in altering things to fuit his own 
 Whim or the Tafte of the Audience, But does Mr. Upton confider how 
 differently the Golpels were propagated, that St. Luke's in particular 
 was very early difpers'd thro' all the Churches, each of which were 
 watchful Guardians of this their facred Trcafure ? I make the Number 
 irnall, when I fay it is probable that not lefs than Ten thoufand Copies 
 of this Gofpel were difpers'd in the Apoftles own Life-time. It muft 
 have been near a Century at leaft after this before we can fuppofe any 
 Man fo io-norant of Hiftory as not to know that our Saviour was born 
 when Herod was King of Judaa, and not when Cyrenius was Governor 
 pf that and the reft of the Province of Syria. There muft have been 
 by that Time at leaft four times as many Copies of St. Lukeh Gofpel as 
 there were before. Now fuppofmg fome one of thefe Forty thoufand 
 Copies to have had fuch an Interpolation made in it: It muft be the 
 ftrangeft thing in the World, that People from Age to Age Ihould all 
 tranfcribe from this Copy only, and not one Church or one Man fee the 
 notorious Abfurdity of fuch a Paffage, fjppofing the Words would 
 admit of no other Interpretation, than that Chriji was born when 
 Cyrenius was Governor of Syria. An Abfurdity, full as glaring as the 
 following Paffage would have been, fuppofmg it put in an Engliflj Hiftory. 
 Such a Perfon 'wai born in the Rclgvof King Charles the Second, jufi at 
 
 th( 
 
PREFACE. Ixxiii 
 
 tho' the Editors have pull'd up great Nambers of 
 Weeds, and the View is much improv'd, yet many 
 are dill left, and each of the Editors have miftakingly 
 puU'd up fome Flowers which want to be replac'd." 
 And this will be the Fate of every Critic who knows 
 not every fingle Word., Hiftory^ Cufioniy Trade, &c. 
 that Shake/pear himfelf knew, which at this diftance 
 of Time is next to an Impoflibility. What room 
 therefore for Quarrels and Infults upon each other ? 
 Veniam petimufque damufqtie, jfliould be our general 
 Rule and Motto. Without this we in this Edition ftand 
 felf-condemn*d. Beaumont and Fletcher are another 
 Field of Criticifm next in Beauty to Shake fpear, and 
 like him over-run with Weeds, many of which are, 
 we hope, now rooted out ; and fome rell Flowers, 
 we fear, miftakingly pluckt up with them. Far 
 
 the Time ivhcti the Bill of Exclufion ivas Brought into Parliament. No-ia 
 this Excliefion Bill, Tpcorn kyiviro, ivas firji made nxihcn William 
 Prince of Orange n.'jas Kingof England. The Redudlion of y«3W/z into 
 a Roman Province under Cyrenins, was a Fadl full as remarkable to the 
 ye^vs, as the Reaiolution is to the Englijh ; and I think \vc mull Hay five 
 or fix Centuries before one fingle Man could be found abfurd enorgh» 
 to write even fuch a marginal Note in an EnglifnWS&.(jxy . The Cafe is 
 extremely fimilar, and that fuch a marginal Note fhould be made, and 
 afterwards adopted into the Text of all fubfequent Editions is next tu a 
 moral Impoflibility. If Mr. Upton therefore will refledl how great a 
 Charader Dr. Bentley tarnilh'd and almoll ruin'd, by his bold Attacks on 
 the Text of the Scriptures, by his Pofitivenefs and Affarance in things 
 of mere Conjefturc, and by his Infults en other Editors furely he will no 
 longer copy fuch Blemi/les, however he is tempted and enabled to emu- 
 late the ihining Parts of the Doelcrs Charadler. Dr. Benthy was jullly 
 prevented from publifhing his Greeli Teftament, and if Mr. Upton will 
 candidly re-examine his own Specimen, he will find that it will be to 
 him too, Pcriculofce plenum opus Alca. The Reader fhould know that 
 this Gentleman has fince given up his Change in Shake fpear oi delighted 
 to delinquent, fuppofipg the former jufiifiable by a Clajfual Authority, 
 but which not being quite fimilar, by i.o means e^cpUins the intvinfic 
 Beauty of the Pailage. 
 
 there- 
 
Ixxiv P R E F A C E. 
 
 therefore from the leaft Pretence to Perfection, from 
 the leaft Right to impofe our Coniedtures as infallible; 
 we have only inferted thofe in the Text which for the 
 Rcafons affign'd in the Notes appear'd more proba- 
 ble than the former Readings. We have endeavour'd 
 to give fair Play to the old Text, by turning it on every 
 Side, and allowing it all the Interpretations we could 
 poffibly affix to ihe Words, and where it appear'd cor- 
 rupt, we never inferted our own Reading without giving 
 wh^t we thought a probable Account of the Me:hod " 
 how fuch a Change had been before made. At leaft, 
 es I can properly fpeak for myfelf only, thefe were 
 the Rules I always wifh to have follow'd, and en- 
 deavour'd to follow, as foon as I became a Principal 
 in the Woik. But the Share which I had in it, 
 gives not ilie leaft room for any thing like Comple- 
 tion on my Part. The AfTiftance which I gave 
 Mr. I'beobald and Mr. Sympjhn^ who publifti'd about 
 Two-thirds of the Work, was by necefTary Avoca- 
 tions intermitted thro' feveral Plays, and the others 
 more or lefs attended to, as Bufinefs or Com.pany 
 would permit, or as the Plays feem'd more or lefs to 
 deferve Attention. To what I printed n"iyfelf, I 
 only dedicated fome few of the many leifure Hours 
 which I had in a Country Village, hoping for pardon 
 for the Idlcnefs rather than Merit from the Ufeful- 
 nefs of tiie Work. If thefe Notes ftiould ever go 
 thro' a fecond Edition, I (hall gratefully acknowledge 
 any Emendations either of them or the Text of our 
 Authors, which any Reader will favour me with ; and 
 muft fay to each, 
 
 " ■ Si quid novijii rcBius iflis, 
 ■Candidus iinpcrti j fi non^ bis utere mecum. 
 
 POST- 
 
PR E FACE. Ixxv 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 THE Gentleman who is mod oblig'd to Shake- 
 /pear, and to whom Shake/pear is moft oblig'd 
 of any Man living, hapning to fee the former Sheet 
 of the Preface, where at Page 5 1 and 52, Shakefpear's 
 peculiar Superiority over our Authors in his MagiCy 
 is afcrib'd to the accidental Advantage of a low Edu- 
 cation J he could not well brook a PafTage which 
 feem'd to derogate from his Favourite. As Shakef- 
 pear had as good Senfe as our Authors, he thought, 
 he would be as free from real Superflition. This 
 does not always follow. Education will tincflure 
 even the brighteft Parts. There is Proof that our 
 Authors held all Sorcery, Witchcraft, &c. as mere 
 Jugler's Tricks, but not the leaft room to doubt of 
 Shake/pear\ having believ'd them in his Youth, 
 whatever he did afterwards ; and this is all that is 
 afferted. Is this therefore a Derogation ? No, it 
 only fhews the amazing Power of his Genius j a 
 Genius which could turn the Bug-bears of his former 
 Credulity into the nobleft Poetic Machines. Jufl 
 as Homer built his Machinery on the Superftitions 
 which he had been bred up to. Both indeed give 
 great Diftindiion of Characters, and great poetic 
 Dignity to the Daemons they introduce ; nay, they 
 form fome new Ones ^ but the Syftem they build on 
 is the Vulgar Creed. And here (after giving due 
 Praife to the Gentleman above, for refloring Shake/- 
 pear's Magic to its genuine Horror, out of that low 
 Buffoonery which former A6lors and Managers of 
 Theatres had flung it into) I fliall fhew in what 
 Light Shake/pear's low Education always appear'd to 
 
 me 
 
Ixxvi PR E FACE. 
 
 me by the following Epitaph wrote many Years 
 fince, and pubhlh'd in Mr. Dodjlefs Mifcellany. 
 
 Upon Shakespeak's Monument at Stratford 
 upon AvQ}!, 
 
 Great Homer'i Birth fev'n rival Cities claim , 
 
 ^00 mighty fuch Monopoly of Fame : 
 
 Yet not to Birth alone did Homer owe 
 
 His wondrous Worth ; ivhat iEgypt could bejlow^ 
 
 With all the Schools of Greece and Afnjoin'd, 
 
 Enlarged th" immenfe Expanjion of his Mind, 
 
 JSloryct unrival'd the Mceonian Strain^ 
 
 ^he* BritiHi Eagle and the Mantuan Swan, 
 
 Tow'r equal Heights. But happier Stratford, thou 
 
 With incontejied Laurels deck thy Brow ; 
 
 ^hy Bard was thine unfcbool'd, and from thee 
 
 brought 
 More than all Mjgy^t, Greece, or k(i2i^ taught -, 
 Not Homer's fef fuch matchlefs Laurels won^ 
 ^he Greek has Rivals, but thy Shakefpear none, 
 
 • Milton. 
 
 Co M- 
 
Commendatory Poems 
 o N 
 
 BEAUMONT and FLETCHER, 
 
 With Notes Critical and Explanatory, 
 
 By Mr. Theobald, Mr. Seward, and Mr. Sy?npfo?i, 
 
 Printed under the Infye^lon of Mr. Seward. 
 
 To my Friend Mafter John Fletcher, upon 
 
 his Faithful Shepherdefs. 
 
 I. 
 
 * T Kfiow too ivelly that, no fjiore than the Maii, 
 
 -■' That travels through the burning Defarts^ can 
 When he is beaten with the raging Sun, 
 Half ff not her' d in the Duji, have power to run 
 From a cool River, which hi mf elf doth fad. 
 E'er he bejlak'd; no more can he, whofe Mind 
 
 * The Commendatory Poems were printed without Judgment oc 
 Order ; feveral of them (particularly the firft as rank'd in the late 
 Editions) greatly injure our Authors by injudicious Encomiums, and have 
 too little Merit to be republiflied. Mr, neobald left feveral Corrcftion* 
 upon thefe cbfcure Poems, and many others would have been added, 
 had not UnM Litura appeared the bed Remedy. All are therefore now 
 difcarded but what appear'd worthy of the Reader's Attention, and 
 thefe are rang'd according to the Order of Time in which they feem to 
 have been wrote. Beaumont himfelf now leads in Defence of his Friend 
 Fletchers charming Dramatic Pafloral the Faithful Shipherdefs, which 
 having been damn'd at its firft Appearance on the Stage, Beaumont and 
 Jon/on, with the Spirits of Horace and "Jn-venal, lafh the dull Herd for 
 (heir ilupid Ingratitude, 
 
^op In the MufeSy hold from that delight, 
 
 * iVbefi Nature J and bis full Thoughts bid him write, 
 
 Tet li'ijh I tbofc^ '■Jihofn I for Friends have known^ 
 
 ^ofing their Thoughts to no Ears but their own. 
 
 Why Jhould the Man, whofe Wit ne'er had a Jlain, 
 
 Upon the fublick Stage prefeiit his Vein, 
 
 Aid make a thoufand Men in Judgment ft^ 
 
 To call in quejlion his undoubted Wit, 
 
 Scarce t'wo of ivhich can underjland the Laivs, 
 
 Which they JJjould judge by, nor the Party's Caufe f 
 
 jimong the Rout, there is not one that hath 
 
 In his oiim cenfure an explicite Faith -, 
 
 One cojnpany, knowing ti>ey judgment lack. 
 
 Ground their belief on the Jiext Man in black : 
 
 Others, on him that makes fgns, a?id is mute 5 
 
 Some like, as he does in the fair eft Suit ; 
 
 He, as his Mijlrefs doth ; and fie, by chance : 
 
 Nor want there thofe, who, as the Boy doth Dance 
 
 Between the ABs, will cenfure the whole Play 5 
 
 Some, if the Wax-Lights be not new that day ; 
 
 But multitudes there are, whofe Judgment goes 
 
 Headlong according to the ABor's Cloaths, 
 
 For this, thefe publick things, and I agree 
 
 So ill, that, but to do a right for thee, 
 
 I had not been perfuaded to have hurld 
 
 Thefe few, ill-fpoken Lines, into the World ; 
 
 * When Nature and his full Thoughts bid him lurite-l Here fays the 
 jadicious Writer of Beaumont*s Life in the General Didlionary, Beaumont 
 evidently fbews that he was fired with that violent Paflion for Writing, 
 which the Poets very juftly call Infpiration ; and he makes this One 
 Proof of Beaumonis not being a mere Correftor of Fletcher'% Works 
 but a joint Author. As I think I have colledled fome lironger Proofs of 
 this, both external and internal than have been yet produc'd, and as I 
 have already built the former Part of my Preface upon thefe Proofs, Ifliall 
 place them before the Reader in the next Ncte jult as they occurrM 
 CO me. 
 
 Both 
 
[3 ] 
 
 3 Both to he 7'ead, and cenfur'd of by thofe, 
 Whofe '■oery Reading makes Verfe fenjlefs Profe : 
 
 Sucb 
 
 3 Both t» be read, and cenfuri of hy thofe, 
 
 Whofe very Reading makes Verfe fenfelefs Prof:'] Here we fee a 
 Confciouinefs of the Poet's own Merit, and an Indignation at the ftupi- 
 dity of the Age he' liv'd in, which feem to have been the Chin(ftcriftics 
 of Beauxont and Jonfon. This will appear ftronger in the Procefa of 
 this Note, in which I Ihall endeavour to prove what Share Beaumont 
 had in the Compofition of the following Plays. I have already mcn- 
 tion'd that Mr. EarPs Teflimony, wrote immediately af:cr Beaumont's 
 Death, is decifive as to Beaumont's having the largell Share in the 
 Compofition of The Maid's Tragedy, Pkilafer, and The King and n9 
 King, and that Beffus in particular was drawn by hira. [See Mr. EarPi 
 Poem below.] This was undoubtedly the Reafon why Beaumont's 
 Name is put firft in the old Quarto's of thefe Plays, publilh'd by the 
 Players after Beaumont^i Death but before Fletcher i. For would 
 the Players have complimented the Dead at the Expencc of their living 
 Friend, Patron, and Supporter ? After two fuch Proofs as thefe, gene- 
 ral Expreffions or even traditional Opinions of the Pancgyrick-Writcr* 
 thirty Years after are lighter than Vanity itfelf. From thefe Plays no 
 Diftinflion of Hands between Beaumont and Fletcher was difcem'd, nor 
 any Sufpicion of fuch a Diftinftion occur'd till I came to the Woman 
 Hater, Vol. lo. which appear'd vifibly to have more of Jonfon% nian- 
 ner than any Play I had bcfo|e met with, which I mcntion'd atNote 29. 
 on that Play, w hen deceiv'd as Langhane had been by the firft Quarta 
 (publifti'd feveral Years after the Death of both the Authors) I verily 
 thought that it had been Fletcher % only. I had not then attended to the 
 Poem of Beaumont's to Jonfon publllh'd at the End of The Nice Valour ^ 
 and Woman Hater, by the fecond Folio. If the Reader will confult that 
 Poem, Vol. 10. p. 365. he will find that it was fent from the Country 
 to Jonfon with two of the precedent Comedies not then finilh'd, buC 
 which Beaumont claims as his own. 
 
 Ben, luhen thefe Scenes are perfeEl, •we'll tajle Wim, 
 Til drink thy Mufe's Healthy thou fi>alt quaff mine. 
 
 It IS plain that they had been his Amufement during a Summer Vaca- 
 tion in the Country, when he had no Companion but his Mufe to en- 
 tertain him ; for all the former Part of the Poem is a Defcription of 
 the execrable Wine, and the more execrable Company which he wai 
 forc'd to endure. Fletcher therefore could not be with him. So that 
 there are certainly two Comedies which properly belong to Beaumont 
 only, which therefore we mufl endeavour to find out. The Verfes tell 
 us that he acknowledg'd all he had to be owing to Jorfon, there is no 
 dtubl therefore of his imitating Jonfon % Manner in thefe Comedies. 
 
 Shirley 
 
[4] 
 
 Such as mufl fpend above an Hour^ to fpell 
 
 A Challenge on a Pejl, to bird) it well. £uf 
 
 Shirley in the firfl Folia, and tlie Publifher of the fecond Folio, both agree 
 in making the Nice Valcur one of thefc Plays : Now this Play is ex- 
 tremely in Jon/an s Manner as is obferv'd in the beginning of the Pre- 
 face and at Note 8. on the Verfes to Jonfou. The Prologue of this 
 Play has no Weight being wrote feveral Years after it, but the Epi- 
 logue was evidently wrote in the Author's Life- time, probably either by 
 the Author himfelf, or elfe by his Friend Jon/on: For 'tis extremely 
 like Jortfon in his Prologues and Epilogues, who generally lets his Au- 
 dience know, that if they did not admire him it was their Faults not 
 his. So this Epilogue makes the Author declare 
 
 - the Flay is good. 
 
 He fays, * he kno'ws it, ifivell unierfiood. [ * The Author. 
 
 How unlike is this to Fletcher and Shake/pear's manner, who, whert 
 they join together in The Tnvo Noble Kinfmen, arc even Modejly it/elf? 
 See the Prologue and Epilogue to that Play, Vol. lo. the latter has thefe 
 Lines; 
 
 ^nd yet mijiahe me not, I am not hold., 
 
 We've nofuch Caufe. If the Tale ive have told 
 
 (^For 'tis no other) any nvay content, 
 
 (For to that honeji Purpofe it 'was meant) 
 
 We hwue our End', and ye Jhall ha'vc e'er long, 
 
 J dare fay many a better to prolong 
 
 Your old Loves to us. 
 
 I hope the Reader will now fee fufficlent Grounds to believe that th« 
 IJice Valour was Beaumont's Play : It is not Demonftration, but it is 
 a high Degree of Probability. But ftill the Diltinftion of Manner fronk 
 Fletcher^ in perfonizing thePalllons and not drawing from real Life fpoke 
 of above, will not follow if Fletcher wrote The Woman- Hater, as the 
 firft Edition in ^arto of that Play afferts, but the fecond contradifls it 
 and puts Beaumonis Name firft in the Title Page, and claims its Changes 
 from the Author's Manufcript. The Publiftier of the fecond Folio fol- 
 lows the fecond j^^^/o, and makes it one of the Plays referred to in Beaw 
 monfi Verfes, The Prologue appears to be wrote by the Author him- 
 felf, fpeaks of himfelf in the fmgular Number, and fliews great Con- , 
 jfidence in the Goodnefs of the Play, and an utter Contempt of Two- 
 penny Gallery Judges. Here Bcaumsnf% Hand therefore feem'd vifible. 
 I therefore began to recollect which of the foregoing Plays moft refem- 
 bled this, to fee what Light might be gain'U from ihem; the firft that 
 
 occurr'd 
 
[5] 
 
 But fmcc it iDas thy Hap to throw away 
 Much Wity for which the People did not pay, 
 
 Becaufy 
 
 Occurr'd was The Knight of the burning Pejite, which Is all Burlefqut 
 Sublime, as Lazmillos Charafter in the U^oman-Hatcr is throughout. 
 Here all the Editions give the Knight to Beaumont and Thicker, this 
 therefore is clear, and the Prologue of that Play is in Scilc and Senti- 
 ments fo exadlly like that of The Woman- Hater, that the fame Hand 
 undoubtedly drew both. Believing therefore that the tlice Vahur was 
 Bcaumonfs only, and that he had at lead the greateR Share of The 
 Woman- Hater and The Knight of the Burning Pcjlle, I proceeded to other 
 Plays, and firfl to The LitlleFrench Lawyer, where La-'writ runs Fighting- 
 mad juft as Lazarillo had run Eating-mad, The Knight of the Burning 
 Tcflle, Rofr.ance-mad; Chamont in the Nice Valour, Honour-mad, See. 
 *rhis is what our old Engl'ifh Writers often diftinguifli by the Name of 
 Humour. The Stile too of La-writ, li':e Lazarilloh and the Knight's, 
 is often the Burlefque Sublime. Here I found the Prologue fpeaking of 
 the Authors in the Plurai Number, i. e. Beaumont and Fletcher. There 
 is a good deal of the fame Humour in The Scornful Lady wtotehy Beaumont 
 and Fletcher, as all the Sluartos declare. The Publifhers of The General 
 DiSlionary, vyhofe Accuracy deferves the highcR Applaufe, have help'd 
 me to another Play, The Martial Maid, in which Beaumont had a Share, 
 end Jonforis Manner of charafterifing is very vifible ; an effeminate 
 Youth and a mafculine ycung Lady are both reform'd by Love, like 
 Jonfons E-very Man in his Humour, and Every Man out of his Humour. 
 Wit without Money and The Cufom of the Country which have Beaumont's 
 Name firfl: in all tiie Editions, have fomething of the fame Hand, par- 
 ticularly in Falcntineh extravagant Contempt of Money, and do great 
 Honour to Beaumont as both are excellent Plays, and the firft an incom- 
 parable one. Shirley fuppofes The Humorous Lieutenant to be one of the 
 Plays referr'd to by Beaumont's Veries to Joiifn, and the Publifher of 
 Beaumont's Poems, which came out about live Years after Shirley's Folio 
 of our Author's Plays, has wrote under that Poem The 'Mail in the 
 Mill: This, I fuppoie, was a marginal Note of Somebody who believ*d 
 Beaumont to have been a joint Author in that Piay : It feems highly 
 probable that he was fo in both thele Plays, as the Lieutenant and Buf- 
 tapha are both ftrong Caracatures and much in Beaumont''^ Manner. 
 The Falfe One mentions the .'iuchojs in the Plural Number, and I be- 
 lieve Beaumont chiefly drew the Chara<5ler of Septimius which gives 
 Name to the Play ; but whatever Share he had in that Play it doe. Jn'm 
 great Honour, Cupid's Revenge, which all the Editions afcribe to 
 Beaumont arid Fletcher, is only fpoil'd from being a very good Tragedy 
 by a ridiculous Mixture of Maciiinery ; thi; Play, The Noble Gentleman, 
 and The Coxcomb, arc all that remain which have any fore of exicrnal 
 Vo L. I. f Evidence 
 
[6] 
 
 Becatife they faw it mt^ I not dijlike 
 Thisfecond Publication, which may firike 
 ^heir Co7ifcie?iccs, to fee the thing they fcorn'd^ 
 To be with fo much Wit and Art adorn' d, 
 Bejides one 'Vantage more in this I fee. 
 Tour CtJifurers ?iow muji have the ^.ality 
 Of Rcadij2g, which I am afraid is more 
 Than half your fir ewdcjl Judges had before. 
 
 Fr. Beaumont. 
 
 To the worthy Author Mr. John Fletcher, 
 
 upon his Faithful Shepherdefs. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE wife, and many-headed Bench, that fits 
 Upon the Life and Death of Plays, and Wits, 
 {Composed of Gamefler, Captain, Knight, Knight'i 
 
 Man, 
 Lady, or Pucelle, that wears Mask or Fan, 
 Velvet, or TafFata Cap, ranked in the dark 
 With the Shop's Foreman, or fome fiich brave Spark, 
 That tnay judge for his Six-pence) had, before 
 They jaw it half damnd thy whole Flay-, and, tnore^ 
 Their Motives were, fnce it had fiot to do 
 With Vices, which they look' d for, and came to. 
 
 Evidence which I know, of Beaumont'^ being a joint Author, and 
 thefe I build nothing upon. There are two others that partake of his 
 manner, which for that Reafon only I fufpeft ; The Spanijh Curate, and 
 *The Laivs of Candy; The latter of which extremely refembles the Kt?2g 
 and No Kifig in its principal Charadlers. But we need not reft upon mere 
 Conjeftures, fincc Beaumont' tSh^xG of 7he Maid\ Tragedy^ Philajler, and 
 the King and No King, give him a full right to fhare equally with Fletcher 
 the Fame of a Tragic Poet ; and JVit v.-ithout Money, the Nice Valour, and 
 ^be Little French Lawyer, raife his Cliarafter equally high in Comedy. 
 
[7 3 
 
 /, that am glad^ thy Innoce?ice was thy Guilt, 
 And ivifi that all the Mufes' Blood iverefpilt 
 T/i fucb a Martyrdom, to vsx their Eyes, 
 Do crowji thy murder' d Poem : ivhichjlmll rife 
 A glorified work to Ti?ne, when Fire, 
 Or Moths, fiall eat what all thefe Fools admire. 
 
 Ben. Jonfon* 
 
 To Mr. Francis Beaumont, 
 (then living.) 
 
 III. 
 
 ** TJ 01V I do love thee, Beaumont, a?id thyMMk^ 
 -■■ •*• ^hat unto me doji fuch Religion ufe ! 
 
 How 1 do fear tnyfelf, that am ?iot worth 
 T^he lea ft indulgefit Thought thy Pen drops forth ! 
 At once thou mak'fl me happy, and ujimakji ; 
 A?id, givifig largely to me, more thou tak'fi. 
 What Fate is mifie, that fo itfelf bereaves ? 
 What Art is thine, that fo thy Friend deceives^ 
 When even there, where moft thou praijeji me 
 For writi?jg better , I mufl envy thee, 
 
 5 Ben. Jonfon. 
 
 ♦ This (hort Copy (which feems wrote with a Sincerity not common 
 in complimentary Poems) treats Beaumcnt not only as an excellent Critic, 
 but as an excellent Poet; and is an Anfwer to a Poem of Beaumont's 
 printed at the end of the Nice Valour, Vol. lO. 
 
 J Ben. Jovfon.'\ So Jonfon fpelt his Name himfelf in his firft FoliOf 
 and fo it is fpelt in the two firft ^arios of The Faithful Shcpherdtfs, 
 
 f 2 On 
 
m 
 
 On Mr. Francis Beaumont, on his 
 Imitations of Ovid^ an Ode. 
 
 IV. 
 
 ^he matchkfs Luji of a fair Poefy^ 
 
 Which erft was buried in old Rome'i Decays, 
 
 Now 'gins with Heat of rifing Majcjly, 
 
 Her dujl-wrapt Head from rotten T'omb to raife. 
 
 And withfreJJo Splejidor gilds her fear lefs Creji, 
 
 Reari?ig her Palace in our Poet'i Breajt, 
 
 7he wanton Ovid, whofe enticing Rimes 
 
 Have with attraBive Wonder fore' d Attention^ 
 
 No more Jhall be admird at -, for thefe T^irnes 
 Produce a Poet, whofe more rare Invention 
 
 Will tear the love-fick Mir tie from his Brows, 
 
 y adorn his Temples with deferved Boughs. 
 
 Thejirongeft Marble fears the fmalleji Rain-, 
 The r lifting Caiiker eats the pur eft Gold-, 
 
 Honour's bcft Dye dreads Envy's blackeji Stain ; 
 The crimfon Badge of Beauty muji wax old. 
 
 But this fair IJfue of thy fruitful Brain, 
 
 Nor dreads Age, Envy, cank'nng Raft or Rain, 
 
 ' I F. 
 
 < The J. F. here is undoubtedly yo/:>N Thtcher, and the Ode, tho' 
 not immediately relating to the Plays, is inferted here, firft, for its in- 
 trinfic Merit; and, fecondly, as it will be pleafing to find that Fletcher % 
 Mui'- v/as animated with Friendlhip as well as Bcaumonth; a Circum- 
 ftance, which, till I faw this Ode, feem'd wanting to complete the 
 amiable Union which reign'd between them. In the third Stanza, the 
 Reader will fee an Authority for Milton's ufe of the Word Rime for 
 Verfe in general. 
 
 Things unattempted yet in Profe or Rime. 
 Which Dr Bentley fo injudicioufly alter'd to Profe and Verfe. That 
 "Beaumont wrote fomething in the Oi^zW/aw M«»«^r feems evident from 
 thefe Lines; but the Hertnaphrodite which is printed as his, and fup- 
 pos'd to be the Thing refer'd to in this Ode, is claim'd by Cleaveland 
 as a conjun^ Performance between himfclf and Randolph. 
 
 On 
 
f 9] 
 
 On Mr. B E ^ U M O N T. 
 
 (Written prefently after his Death.) 
 
 V. 
 
 "D Eaumont //Vj berf ; and where nowfiall we have 
 ■*-' A Mufe like his to jigh upon his Grave f 
 ylh ! none to weep this with a worthy Tear^ 
 But he, that cannot^ Beaumont that lies here. 
 7 Who now fiall pay thy Tomb with fucb a Verfe 
 As thou that Ladfs didft^fair Rutland 'j Herfe? 
 
 A 
 
 7 Vfloo no^Jj /hall pay thy Tomb nvith fuch a Verfe 
 
 As thou that Ladys ditfj}, fair Rutland'^ Her/eF] To pay thy Tomh 
 is a little obfcure, but it feems to mean, to repay thee for writing Jo 
 excellent an Epitaph, by one as excellent on thyfelf. There are feveral 
 Epitaphs and Elegies in Beaumont's Poems, but by an Expreffion in Mr. 
 Barlt's two next Lines relating to the Marble of the Tomb, I believe the 
 following beautiful Epitaph is what is here referr'd to : 
 
 An Epitaph. 
 Herejhe lies, ivhofe fpotlefs Fame 
 Invites a Stone to learn her Name. 
 Tlie rigid Spartan that denied 
 An Epitaph to all that died, 
 Unlefs for War, in Charity, 
 Would here •vouchfafe an Elegy. 
 She died a Wife, but yet her Mind, 
 Beyond Virginity refnd. 
 From laijulefs Fire remaitid as frei. 
 
 As noiv from Heat her Afhes he. \ 
 
 Her Husband yet ^without a Sin, 
 Was not a Stranger, but her Kin; 
 TJjat her chajl Lonje might feem no other 
 To her Husband than a Brother. 
 Keep ivell this Panun, thou Marble CheJ}, 
 Till it's call' d for, let it reji ; 
 For nuhile this Jcnvel here is fet. 
 The Qrave is like a Cabinet. 
 
 f 3 TMi 
 
[ lo ] 
 
 A Monument that will then lajling be. 
 When all her Marble is more Dujl thanjloe. 
 In thee alVs loji : afudden Dearth and Want 
 Hdthfeiz'don Wit, good Epitaphs are fc ant-. 
 We dare not write thy Elegy ; whil/l each fears ^ 
 He ne'er Jhall match that Copy of thy Tears. 
 Scarce in an Age a Poet, and yet he 
 Scarce lives the third part of his Age to fee -y 
 But quickly taken off, and only known. 
 Is in a Minute f out as foon asfiown. 
 JVhyJlmdd weak Nature tire herfclf in vain 
 Infuch a Piece, to dafj it flraight again? 
 Why foouldjhe takefuch Work beyond her Skilly 
 IVhich, when fie cannot per feSi, fi:e inufl kill? 
 Alas, what is't to temper Slime or Mire? 
 But Nature's puzled, when fie works in Fire : 
 Great Brains {like bright ejl Glafs) crack flraight ^ 
 
 while thofe 
 Of Stone or Wood hold out, aiidfear not Blows : 
 And we their a?icient hoary Heads can fee, 
 Whofe Wit was never their Mortality : 
 Beaumont dies young, ^fo Sidney did before 5 
 ^here was not Poetry he could live to more ; 
 He could 7iot grow up higher ; I fcarce knoWy 
 If th' Art itfelf unto that pitch could grow, 
 Were't not in thee, that had'fi arrived the Height 
 Of all that Wit could reach, or Nature might. 
 
 This is extremely in the Spirit of Milton and Shahjpearh Epitaphs, and 
 fhews that Beaumont exccird in every Species of Writing which he at- 
 tempted. There are t\\xet Elegies of his which I believe genuine, and 
 they have great Merit ; two are fign'd by his Name, and another begins. 
 Can my poor Lines no better Off.ee have. 
 Than, Screech-Ot>:l like, Jlill d'vcell about the Grave? 
 This {hews that he had wrote feveral Elegies and Epitaphs. 
 
 * fo Sidney did before {\ It might perhaps have been— y& Sidney died 
 hefire. 
 
 o. 
 
 1 
 
[ " 1 
 
 O, when I read thofe excellejit Things of thine ^ 
 
 Such Strength^ fiicb Sweetnefsj coucht in every Line, 
 
 Such Life of Fancy, fuch high choice of Brain, 
 
 Nought of the Vulgar Wit or borro-wed Strain, 
 
 Such Fafjion, fuch Exprefions meet my Eye, 
 
 Such Wit untainted imth Obfcenity, 
 
 And thefe fo unaffeBedly exprefsd j 
 
 All in a Language purely -flouring dreji ; 
 
 And allfo born within thyfelf, thine own. 
 
 So ?iew, fofrefh, fo nothing trod upon. 
 
 I grieve not now, thai old Menandcr'i Vein 
 
 Is ruin'd, to furvive in thee again j 
 
 Such in his time was he, of the fame piece. 
 
 The fnooth, ev'n, natural Wit, and Love of Greece. 
 
 Thofe few fententious Fragments fJoew more worth. 
 
 Than all the Poets Athens e'er brought forth ; 
 
 And I am for ry we have loft thofe hours 
 
 On them, whofe quichiefs comes far fiort of ours. 
 
 And dwell not more on thee, whofe every Page 
 
 May be a Pattern for their Scene a?id Stage. 
 
 I will not yield thy Works fo mean a Praife ; 
 
 More pure, more chafi, more fainted than are Plays, 
 
 Nor with that dull jupinenefs to be read. 
 
 To pafs a fire, or laugh an hour in Bed. 
 
 How do the Mufes fuffer every where. 
 
 Taken in fuch Mouths cenfure, in fuch Ears, 
 
 That, 'twixt a whiffe, a Line or two rehearfe. 
 
 And with their Rheume together fpaule a Verfe f 
 
 9 This all a Poems Pleafure, after Play, 
 
 Drink or Tobacco, it may eke the Day. Whilfi 
 
 9 lljis all a Poems leafure after Play, 
 
 Drink or Tobacco, it may keep the Day."] What is all a Poems 
 Itafure ? I can affix no Idea to it but a Latinifm, which if defign'd is 
 extremely forc'd. This is all a Poetns, i. e a Poem's Part, Pow'r or 
 Worth, it may fcrve to fpend one's Icafure Hours after Dice, Drink, 
 
 f 4 or 
 
[ ,2 ] 
 
 Whlljl ev'n their very Idlencfs, they think. 
 Is iojl in thcfe, that lofe their time iii drink, 
 *° Pity them dull-. We, we that better know^ 
 Will a more ferious hour on thee beftow. 
 Why Jldould not Beaumont /;; the Morning pleafe^ 
 As well as Pkutus, Ariftophanes ? 
 Who, if my Fen may as my 'Thoughts be free. 
 Were fcurril Wits and Buffoons both to thee , 
 Yet thefe our Learned of Jeverejl Brow 
 Will deign to lock on, and to fiote them too, 
 That will defy our own ; 'tis EngliQi ftt{ff\ — - 
 And tlf Author is not rotten long enough. 
 Alas, what flegme are they, compared to thee^ 
 In thy Philalter, and Maid's Tragedy ? ■ 
 
 or Tobacco. But unlef'; the Reader fees a more natural Explication, I 
 believe he will agree to its l)eing difcarded as a Corruption, for a trifling 
 Change will give a dear Senfe, 
 
 ^is nil a Vocnis Pleafufc, after Play, 
 Drink or Tobacco, it may keep the Day. 
 
 i. e. All the Pleafure a Poem gives to thefe Sons of Dulnefs, is to fpin 
 oijt or pafs away the Time till Sun fet, after Cards, Bottles, and To- 
 . bacco are removed ; thus to pafs a Fire, a. little above, fignifies to pafs 
 away the Time till the Fire is burnt out. But to keep a Day, is an 
 Expreffion not very applicable to this Senfe, (a Senfe which the Con- 
 text evidently requires) and tho' it may indeed be drained to fomething 
 like it, yet a? we can retain three of the Letters in keep, and by a fmall 
 tranfpofition of the reft, give a much properer Verb, it Teems probable 
 that eke was the original, we generally now fay to eke out the Day; but 
 it was us'd by our Anceftors without the Adverb, to eke a thing, i. e, to 
 protradl or lengthen it out. The Reader will fee a much greater Cor- 
 ruption of thcPref'; than either of thefe at the latter End of this Poem. 
 ' ** P/V); then dull ave, nxie that better knotv. 
 
 Will a more ferious Hour on thee befovj.'\ There is too much In- 
 confiftency in this Sentence to fuppofe it genuine. He ironicsUy calls 
 himfelf and Triends dull, and literally aflerts their fuperior Underltand- 
 ing in the fame ^entence. Befide, Pity then lue ij.-ill befoiu, &c. does 
 not feem EngUf:. I change but an n to an m, and read. Pity them 
 dull; We, 'we that^ &c. 
 
 Where's 
 
[ '3] 
 
 Wheye'ifuch an humour as thy Beflus, pray f 
 
 Let them put all their Thrafoes in one Flay^ 
 
 He fiall out-bid them ; their conceit was poor. 
 
 All in a Circle of a Bawd or Whore ; 
 
 ' ' A coining Davus ; take the Fool awny. 
 
 And not a good Jcft extant in a Flay. 
 
 Tet thefe are Wits, becaufc they re old^ and 7iow, 
 
 Being Greek and Latin, they are Learning too : 
 
 ' ' ^ coznlng Dance, takt the Fool aivay. 
 
 And not agoodjefi extant in a ?lay.'\ Dance is certainly fpurious : 
 The Printer of this Poem among Bcaumoni'h Poems mention 'd above, 
 faw that it was abfurd ; but not hitting on an Emendation left it quite 
 out, and made a Dafli in its room. Mr. Sympfon propofes to read 
 Dunce, which makes tolerable Senfe ; but leaves the Meafure as deficient 
 as before. Mr. Theobald undoubtedly reftor'd the true Word Davus, 
 which the Setter of the Prefs might eafily miftake, as he could not be 
 fuppos'd to have underftood it. I (hall give Mr. Tlnohaltf^ own Note 
 wrote on his Margin, as it is a Specimen of the Critical Language 
 which he had accullom'd himfelf to, but which I believe he would have 
 laid afide had he liv'd, for I took forae Pains to lay before him the 
 Arguments us'd againft it at Page 60, 61, isc of my Preface, and he 
 told me that he was convinc'd it was wrong and impolitic, and would 
 change his Stile of Infult on other Editors for tie future. But this wag 
 prevented by his Death, and the following Note feems to have been 
 wrote many Years before. 
 
 A Coining Dance, &c.] What rare Ears have thcfc Editors to Cadence 
 and Ve. fification ! and what an acute Regard to common Senfe ! Both 
 the Meafure halts, and the Meaning is defective. My Emcndatioa 
 makes a double Core. Da'vus is the Name of a fubde juggling Ser- 
 vant in Terence's Comedy called the Fair Andrian. Mr. Theobald, 
 
 Mr. Eavle's Refleftions on Terence are in part at leaft very unjuft. 
 There is perhaps too much Samenefs in his Plots ; but his Old Men 
 and Young, his Servants, his Parafites, ijc. are each a diftinft Character 
 from all the relt, and preferv'd throughout each Play with infinite Spirit 
 and Judgment. Befide which, the elegant Didlion and fine Sentiments 
 which every where abound in him are Patterns to the heft Comic Wri- 
 ters ; and which Beaumont and Fletcher ftrive to excel him in by adding 
 Sublimity of Poetry to Juftnefs df Sentiment ; well knowing that Jejis 
 and Drollery arc only the loweft Degree of Comic E.xcellencc. 
 
 But 
 
[ H] 
 
 But thofe their own T^imes were content f allow 
 
 ** A thrifty Fame, and thine is loweft now. 
 
 But thoujhalt live, mid, when thy Natne is grown 
 
 Six Ages older, Jljalt be better known ; 
 
 When thou'rt of Chaucer'j Standing in the Tomb, 
 
 Thoujhalt not jhare, but take up all, his room. 
 
 '3 Joh. Earlc 
 
 On Mr. Francis Beaumont. 
 ( Then newly Dead. ) 
 
 VI. 
 
 HE that hath fnch Acutenefs, andfuch Wit, 
 As would ask ten good Heads to husband it j 
 He, that can write fo well, that no Man dare 
 Reftife it for the bejl, let him beware : 
 
 ' ^ A thirjiy Fame,'] To make thirfy fignify poor or fcanty may be 
 admitted ; but as the fmallefl Change gives a more natural Word, thrifty 
 feems the Original. 
 
 ' 3 Joh. Earlg.'] Mr. Earle was young when he wrote this, and 
 there are indifputable Marks of a bright Poetic Genius, which had 
 probably been greatly infpir'd by an Intimacy with Beaumont. He was 
 in high Repute as a Preacher and a Scholar in King Charles the Firll's 
 Reign ; and feems to have been a true Patriot ; for it is probable that 
 he oppos'd the Court in the beginning of the Troubles, as he was defied 
 One of the AJfemhly of Divines ; but he refus'd to aft with them, and 
 adher'd to the King in his loweft State, and for it was depriv'd of the 
 Chancellorfhip of Salisbury, zx\d all his other Preferments. After the Re- 
 ftoration, he was made, firft Dean of Wefiminfer, then Bifliop of /For- 
 cefter, and afterwards of Salisbury, Mr. IVood gives a Charafler of 
 Ikim, that extremely refembles that of the excellent Dr. Hough, the late 
 Bifliop of Worcefter ; the Sum of it is, that He joinM the PoHtencfs of 
 a Courtier to the Sanftity, Goodnefs, and Charity of an Apoftle. 
 
 Beaumont 
 
Beaumont 2i dead^ by ivhoje fole Death appears^ 
 Wifs a Difeafe conjumes Men in few Tears. 
 
 »4 Rich." Corbet, D. D. 
 
 On the happy Collecftion of Mr. F l e t c h e r's 
 Works, never before printed. 
 
 VII. 
 
 F Letcher, aj'ife! Ufiirpers fiare thy Bays, 
 They canton thy vafi Wit to build fmall Plays : 
 He comes I /)/i Volume breaks through Clouds andDujl -^ 
 DowHy little Wits ! ye muji refund^ ye muft. 
 
 Nor comes he private, here's great Beaumont too j 
 How could onefmgle World encompafs two ? 
 For thefe Co-heirs had equal Power to teach 
 All that all Wits both can, a?id cannot, reach, 
 Shakefpeare was early up, and went fo drefi 
 As for thofe dawning hours he knew was bejl -, 
 But, when the Sun Jhone forth. You Two thought Jit 
 *To wear jufi Robes, and leave off" Trunk-hofe Wit. 
 Now, 710W, 'twas P erf eB ', none mufi look for New ^ 
 Manners and Scenes may alter, but not You j 
 For yours are not mere Humorous, gilded. Strains j 
 l^he Faflnon lojl, your maffy Senfe remains. 
 
 Some think your Wits of two Complexions f ram' d^ 
 That one the Sock, tlf other the Buskin, claim'' d-, 
 
 »♦ Richard Corbet, firft Student, Xhtn'Dt^noi Chrijl-Church, after- 
 wards Bilhop of Oxford, and from thence tranflated to Nor-xjcich ; in hia 
 Youth was eminent for Wit and Poetry, of which this is a Specimen, 
 and a good Teilimony cf BcaumonC^ having a luxuriant Wit as well at 
 Tlctchcrt 
 
 H Wit 
 
 *n:at iVQuld ask ttn good Htads t» husband it. 
 
 That 
 
[ .6] 
 
 *Thaf JhouJd the Stage embattle all it s force y 
 Fletcher would lead the Foot, Beaumont the Horfc. 
 Biity you icere Both for Both ^ not Semi-wit s^ 
 Each Piece is ivholly T'wo, yet ?icvcrfplits : 
 Vare not two Faculties, and one SonXJlill, 
 He /^' Underftanding, thou the quick free Will; 
 ^^ Not as two. Voices in one Song embrace, 
 Fletcher'^ keen Treble, and deep Beaumont'^ Bafc, 
 Two, full. Congenial Souls ; ft ill both prevail' d-, 
 ^^ His Mufe and thine were Quarter 'd, not Impal'd : 
 
 ■ f But as t-TJUo Voices in one Song embrace 
 
 Fletcher'j keen Treble, and deep Beaumont'j Bafe, 
 Tnvo full congenial Souls.'\ Here Berkenhead is fpeaking of the 
 doubtful Opinions relating to the Share which Beaumont and Fletcher 
 had in thefe Plays : He tells you, that the general Opinion was, that 
 Beaumont was a grai'e Tragic IVriter, Fletcher moft excellent in Comedy. 
 This he contradidls j but how, why, they did not differ as a General of 
 Horfedoes from a General of Foot, nor as the Sock does from the Buskin, 
 nor as the W/// from the Underjtanding, but wtrt i^o full Congenial Souls, 
 and differ'd only as the Bafe and Treble do in the fame Song. Why, 
 if this is the true Reading, he confirms in thefe Lines what he had 
 contradicled in all the foregoing Similes, for Bafc and Treble have 
 much the fame difference between them as Horfe and Foot in an Army, 
 or the Wit and Underftanding in the Soul. To make the Writer 
 confiftent with himfclf, the true Reading feems to be Not inflead of j?a/ ; 
 
 Not as tiuo Voices in one Seng embrace, 
 FlctcherV keen Treble and deep BeaumontV Bafe ; 
 TiJoo full congenial Souls. 
 
 I ' His Mufe and thine ixere Quarter'd, not Impal'd :]] I know I 
 sm going out of my Depth, in attempting a Criticifm on Terms in 
 Heraldry. But my Books tell me, that Impaling is when the Arms 
 of the Man and Wife are plac'd on the lame Efcutcheon, the one 
 on the Right and the other on the Left ; which is a proper Emblem 
 of the Matrimonial Union ; and might itemingly be as well ap- 
 plied to the Marriage of Beaumont and Fleicher^s Wit, as the Word 
 gartering can, which the fame Berkinhead i'peaks of at the latter end 
 of this Poem : 
 
 What f range ProduSIion is at la/l difplay^d. 
 Got by tivo Fathers luithout Female aid! 
 But I Ihali attempt no Change in a Science where I am Ignorance itfelf. 
 
 Both 
 
[ 17 ] 
 
 Both brought your Ingots, both toiN at the Mint^ 
 Beat, melted, fifted, 'till no drofs /luck in"t ; 
 T^hen in each others Scales weighed every Grain, 
 ^hcn fmooty d and burnijlfd, then weighed all again-, 
 Stampt both your Names upon't at one bold hit, 
 ^hen, then 'twas Coin, as well as Bullion-Wit. 
 
 ^hus Twins : But as when Fate one Eye deprives, 
 *That other jlrives to double, which furvives : 
 So Beaumont dy'd: yet left in Legacy 
 His Rules and Standard Wit (Fletcher) to thee. 
 Still the fame Planet, though not fiW d fo foon, 
 A Two-horjid Crefcent then, now one Full-moon. 
 Joint Love before, now Honour, doth provoke ; 
 So tlf old Twin Giants forcing a huge Oak, 
 One flip' d his footing, th' other fees him fall, 
 Grafp'd the whole Tree andfingle held up alL 
 Imperial Fletcher ! here begins thy Reign ; 
 Sce?ies flow like Sun-beams from thy glorious Brain j 
 Thy jwift- dif patching Soul no more dothjiay. 
 Than he that built two Cities in one day ; 
 Ever brim-full, and fometimes running o'er. 
 To feed poor languid Wits that wait at Door 5 
 Who creep and creep, yet Jie'er above ground flood % 
 (For Creatures have moji Feet, which have leaft 
 
 Blood) 
 But thou art fill that Bird of Paradife, 
 Which hath no feet, and ever nobly flies : 
 Rich, lufty Senfe, fuch as the Poet ought ; 
 For Poems, if not Excelle?it, are Naught ; 
 Low Wit in Scenes inflate a Peafant goes ; 
 If mean and flat, let it foot Teoman-Profe, 
 That fuch may fpell, as are not Readers grown -, 
 To whom he^ that writes Wit, fljews he hath none. 
 
 Brave 
 
[ .8 ] 
 
 Bra've Shakefpeare fiow'd^ yet had his ^bhhigi 
 too^ ■ 
 Often above himfelf^ fometimes below ; 
 i'hou always bejl , if aught feem d to decline , 
 ^Twas the wijudging Rout's tnijiakey not thine : 
 Thus thy fair Shepherdefs, which the bold heap 
 (Falfc to thcmfches and thee') did prize fo cheapo 
 fVas found (when underflood) fit to be crown' d. 
 At worft 'twas worth two hundred thoufand Pound. 
 
 Zo7nc hhft thy Work?, lefi we fiould track their 
 Walk', 
 Where theyfieal all thofe few good things^ they talk ; 
 Wit-Burglary muji chide thofe it feeds on. 
 For plunder' d folks ought to be rail'd upon ; 
 But (asjlohi Goods goe off at half their worth) 
 Thyjlrotig Senfe palls, when they purloin it forth. 
 When didfi thou borrow ? where' s the Man, e'er read 
 Aught begg'd by Thte from thofe Alive or Dead? 
 Or from dry GoddefTes ? asfome who, when 
 They fluff their F age with Gods, write worfethan Men\ 
 Thou waft thine ovin. Mufe, and hadft fuch vaft odds. 
 Thou out-writ' ft him whofe Verfe made all thofe Gods : 
 Surpafting thofe our Dwaififi Age up-rears. 
 As much as Greeks, or Latins, thee in Tears : 
 Thy Ocea?i Fancy knew nor Banks nor F)amms ^ 
 We ebb down dry to P^M/?- Anagrams ; 
 T>ead and infipid, all defpairing fit ; 
 Loft to behold this great Relapfe of Wit : 
 What ftrength remains ^ is like that (wild a7id fierce) 
 'Till Jonfon fnade good Poets and right Veife, 
 
 Such boyft'rous Trifies thy Mufe would not brook. 
 Save when ft:)e' d fioow how fcurvily they look -, 
 
 Na 
 
t 19] 
 
 No favage Metaphors, {things rudely Great,) 
 Thou dojl dilplay, not butcher a Conceit j 
 T/'jy Nerves have B^^auty, which invades and charms -, 
 Looks like a Princcfs harnefs'd in bright Anns, 
 
 Nor art thou Loud and Cloudy ; thofe^ that do 
 'Thunder fo much, dot without Light?iing too ; 
 Tearing them/elves, and almoft fplit their Brain 
 To rcJider harfb what thou fpeak'Jl free and clean ; 
 Such gloomy Senfe may pafsfor High and Proud, 
 But true-horn Wit flilljlies above the Cloud ; 
 Thou knew' ft Vic'^j Impotence, what they f^// Height; 
 Who bluftersftrong i'tV Dark, but creeps Vtlf Light, 
 
 And as thy Thoughts were clear, fo. Innocent j 
 Thy Fancy gave no iinfwept Language vent ; 
 Slawidcrft 7iot'Lz.\ws, prophar.ft no holy Page, 
 (As if thy Father's Crofier aw'd the Stage-,) 
 High Crimes were fill arraigned; tho' they made 
 
 fi'ft 
 
 To projper out four A(5ls, were plagiCd t'th' Fifth : 
 
 Alls fa fe, and wife -, no ftiff-affeSled Scene, 
 
 Nor iwoln nor flat, a true fill natural Vein j 
 
 Thy Senfe (like well-dreft Ladies) ckatJfd as skinn'd^ 
 
 Not all unlacd, nor City-ftarch'd and pimi'd ; 
 
 Thou hadft ?io Sloth, 7to Rage, nor fulle?i Fit, 
 
 But Strength ^2:;^^ Mirth j Fletcher'i j Sanguine Wit, 
 
 Thus, two great Cov\(u\-Poets all things fwafd^ 
 Till all was Engliih Born or Englifh Made : 
 Mitre and Coife here into One Piece fpun, 
 Beaumont a Judge'j, this a PrelateV Son. 
 What ft range Produdlion is at laft difplafd. 
 Got by two Fathers, without Female aid I 
 
 Behold, 
 
Behold J fwo Mafculines efpous'd each other • 
 Wit and the World were born ivithotit a Mother. 
 
 '7 J. Berkinhead, 
 
 ^ 
 
 On the Works of Beaumont and 
 Fletcher, now at length printed. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 GReat Pair of Authors, whom one equal Star 
 Begot Jo like iti Genius, that you are 
 In Fame, as well as Writings, both Jo Unity 
 *Jhat no Man knows where to divide your Wit^ 
 Much lefs your Praife : Tou, who had equal Fire^ 
 And did each other mutiially infpire j 
 Whether vnc did Contrive, the other Write, 
 One jram'd the Plot, the other did Indite ; 
 Whether one foimd the Matter, tJf other JDrefsy 
 Or th' one dtfpofed what th' other did exprefs : 
 Where-e'er your Parts beiwee:z your fehcs lay, we. 
 In all things, which you did, but one Thread Jee j 
 So evenly drawn out, fo gently fptin, 
 That Art with Nature ne'er did fmoother run. 
 Where jloall I fir ?ny Fraije then ? or what part 
 Of all your numerous Labours hath dejert 
 
 ^7 J. Berkinhead.^ Berkinhead was firft Amanucnfis to BKhop 
 hand, and Fellow of All-Souls. He was Author of the Mercurious 
 JiulicuSf a very Loyal Paper in the Time of the Rebellion. He was 
 perlecuted much in Cromivelts Days, and lived by his Wits ; after- 
 wards he had good Places under King Charles the Second, was 
 Member of Parliament, and Knighted. 
 
 More 
 
f 21 ] 
 
 More to befam'd than other ? Shall Ifaj^ 
 
 Fve j?jet a Lover fo draw?! in your Pla)\ 
 
 So pajjiojiately writteti^ fo inflamd^ 
 
 So jealoujly inrag'd^ then gently tam'd. 
 
 That I in reading have the Perfon feen. 
 
 And your Pen hath Part Stage and A6ior been ? 
 
 Or Jhall Ifay^ that I can fcarce forbear 
 
 'To clap J when I a^ Captain do meet there ; [*Bc(rus 
 
 So lively in his own vain Humour drejl^ 
 
 So braggingly, and like himfelf exprejiy 
 
 That fnodern Cowards^ ivhen they faw him plafdy 
 
 Saw J bluJJfd^ departed guilty y ajid betrayed? 
 
 Tbu wrote all Parts right ; whatfoe'er the Stage 
 
 Had from you, wasfeen there as in the Age, 
 
 And had their equal Life : Vices which were 
 
 Manners abroad, did grow corrected there : 
 
 They who pojjeft a Box, and haf Crown fpent 
 
 To learn Obfcenenefs, return d innocent. 
 
 And thank' d you for this Coz'nage, who/e cha/le Scene 
 
 Taught Loves fo noble, fo reformed, fo clean. 
 
 That they, who brought foul fires, and thither came 
 
 To bargain, went thence with a holy flame. 
 
 Be't to your Praife too, that '^^ your Stock and Vein 
 
 Held both to Tragic and to Comic Strain ; 
 
 Where-e'er you lifted to he high and grave. 
 
 No Buskm fiew'd morefolemn 3 no ^illgave 
 
 » * . y our Stock and Fein 
 
 Held both to Tragic and to Comic Strain.'\ Mr. Theobald would 
 read Sock and Fein ; but then Tragic and Comic in the next Line are 
 mifplac'd, and the Defcriptioni of Tragedy and Comedy in the eight 
 next Lines are equally fo ; befides, Fein by no means makes a proper 
 Antithcfis to Sock or Comedy, and if one Word is abfolutely explicit. 
 Sock for Comedy, the other fhould be fo too, and Buskin is the Word 
 that anfwers it. The old Reading, which is, I doubt not, the true one, 
 will bear this Senfc : Your Stock of Underftanding and Knowledge, and 
 your Fein of Wit and Humour are equally excellent in Tragedy and 
 Comedy. 
 
 Vol. I. g Such 
 
[ 22 1 
 
 Such feeling ObjeBs to draw Tears from Eyes, 
 
 SpeBators fate Parts in your T^ragedies, 
 
 And "where you lifted to be low and free. 
 
 Mirth tur?i'd the whole Houfe itito Comedy ; 
 
 So piercing (where you pleas' d) hittifig a fault, 
 
 That Hmnours from your Fen ijjued all Salt, 
 
 Nor were you thus in Works and Poems knit. 
 
 As to be two half, and to make one Wit j 
 
 But asfome things, we fee, have double caiife. 
 
 And yet the effeB itfelf from both whole draws j 
 
 So though you were thus twifted and combined, 
 
 '9 As in two Bodies f have but one fair Mind ; 
 
 Tet if we praife you rightly, we muft fay. 
 
 Both join d, and both did wholly make the Play. 
 
 For that you could write fingly, we may guefs 
 
 ^° By the divided pieces which the Prefs 
 
 Hath fever ally fent forth ; nor were ^^ joindfoy 
 
 Like fome our Modern Authors, made to go One 
 
 *^ As tivo Bodies to hanie but one fair Mind i] Both Senfe and Mea- 
 fure are here much confus'd, fhould I infert the Reading that pleafes 
 belt, it Ihould be. 
 
 As your invo Bodies had but one fair Mind. 
 Greater Alterations than from this to the old Text have been often made 
 at Prefs by mere Overfights, but fhould not be fuppos'd where a fmaller 
 Change will reftore a Senfe and Meafure quite fuitable to the Author's 
 general Stile. I read therefore. 
 
 As in t^o Bodies /' have but one fair Mind. 
 ^^ By the di'vided Pieces nuhich the Prefs 
 
 Hath feverally fent forth {] I have before fliew'd that there were 
 two Comedies wrote by Beaumont fmgly, and given fome Reafons why 
 the Nice Valour ought to be deem'd one of them. Whether Mr. Maine in 
 this Place referr'd to thefe two Comedies, knowing which they were ; or 
 whether he only meant the Mask at Grays-Inn, which was the only 
 Piece which we know to have been publifh'd in Beaumont''?, Name before 
 thefe Commendatory Poems were publifh'd ; or whether he fpoke in 
 general Terms, without a ftrift adherence to Fads, muft be left uncertain. 
 
 21 — . nor ix:ere gone fe, 
 
 Liie fome our Modern Authors, made to go 
 On merely by the help oftV other ^ The Word ^5 which ends the next 
 Line, feems to have ran in the Printer's Head, and made him put gone here 
 
 inftead 
 
[23] 
 
 0?te merely by the help of th' other ^ who 
 
 To purchaje Fame do come forth one of two ; 
 
 Nor wrote yoicfo, that one's part was to lick 
 
 The other into Shape j fior did one Jlick 
 
 The other's cold Inventions with fuch Wit^ 
 
 Asfcrv'd, like Spice, to make them quick and fit-. 
 
 Nor, out of mutual Want, or Emptinefs, 
 
 Did you confpire to go fill Twins to tlf Prefs ; 
 
 But what, thus join'd, you wrote, might have come 
 
 forth 
 As good from each, and for' d with the fame worth 
 That thus united them 5 you did join Senfe j 
 In you 'twas he ague, in others Impotence-, 
 ^^ And the Prefs, which both thus amongjl us fends. 
 Sends us one Poet in a pair of Friends. 
 
 ^3 Jafper Maine. 
 
 inftead of fome other Word. Mr. Theobald had prevented me in the Emen- 
 dation : We rtzA join d fo, and as I have his Concurrence, I have the 
 lefs doubt in preferring it to Mr. Symp/on's Conjefture — Nor nvere one 
 fo— tho' this latter is very good Senfe and nearer the trace of the Letters, 
 but it would make one be repeated too often, for it is already in the 
 third and fourth Lines after, and 'tis very evident to me that it (hould 
 have been in the Second, for On merely, I read One 7nerely. 
 
 22 And the Prefs 'which both thus amongjl us fends S\ I believe few of the 
 ancient Englijh Poets knew any Rule of EngliJJj Verfe but its Number 
 of Syllables, and therefore when their Ear fail'd them, even the bed 
 of them often make the Accents fall upon wrong Syllables. Tho' 'tis 
 poffible, that the Millakes of the Prels often fpoil'd their Meafure by 
 tranfpoiing Monofyllables. A fmall Tranfpofition would cure this Lioe : 
 And thus the Prefs vjhich both atnongfl us fends. 
 
 See the Rule for Englijh Verfe at Note 5. }Vit -without Montyt 
 
 ^^ l^fP'^ Ma/wf.] This Gentleman was Author of the City Match, 
 a Comedy, and the Amorous War, a Tragi-Comedy, He was an 
 eminent Preacher in the Civil War, but warmly adhering to the King 
 was depriv'd of all his Preferments in CromiueWs Time, and taken for 
 Charity into the Earl of DcTonJhire'% Family, where his Learning, 
 -Piety, and Wit, rendered Kim a proper Advocate for Religion againft the 
 famous Mr. Hohbs, then a Tutor in that Family. After the Reftoration 
 he was made Canon oiCbriJl- Church, and Arch- Deacon of Chichejlcr. 
 
 g 2 Upon 
 
[ 24 ] 
 
 Upon the Report of the printing of the Dramatical 
 Poems of Mafter John Fletcher, colle<^ed 
 before, and now fet forth in one Volume. 
 
 IX. 
 
 T Hough when all Fletcher ivrity and the entire 
 Man was indulged to that f acred fire. 
 His Thoughts J and his Thoughts Drefs^ appear' d Both 
 
 fuchj 
 That 'twas his happy fault to do too much : 
 Who therefore wifely didfuhmit each Birth 
 To knowing Beaumont e'er it did come forth, 
 fVorkiiig again until he f aid ^ 'twas fit, 
 And made him the Sobriety of his Wit ; 
 Though thus he caWd his Judge into his Fame, 
 And for that aid allowed him half the Name -, 
 'Tis known, that fojjietimes he did ftand alone. 
 That both the Spunge and Pencil were his own ; 
 That himfelf judgd himfelf could fmgly do ; 
 And was at lajl Beaumont and Fletcher too : 
 *♦ Elfe we had lofl his Shepherdefs, a piece 
 EsVen and [moot h, f pun from a finer fleece -, 
 Where foftnefs reigns, where Pafions Faffions greet. 
 Gentle and high, as floods of Balfam meet. 
 Where drefs'd in white Expreffions fit bright Loves, 
 Drawn, like their fair efl ^leen, by milky Doves ; 
 
 *♦ Elfe luthadlofi his Shepherdefs.] Mr. Cartnuright was a very 
 bright but a very young Man, and feems to tafte our Authors Plays 
 extremely well, but to have known nothing of their Dates and Hiftory, 
 He fuppofes the Shepherdefs wrote after Beaumont's Death, fo that his 
 Teftimony ought to have no fort of Weight in excluding Beaumont from 
 all (hare in the Compofition of the Plays. He had taken up the Sup- 
 pofition of Beaumont''s being only a Correflor, perhaps merely becaufe 
 JonfoH had celebrated his Judgment j not confidering that he celebrated 
 his Fancy too. 
 
 A 
 
f 25] 
 
 Apiece^ which Jonfon in a Rapture bid 
 Come up a glprffyd Work ; andfo it did. 
 
 Elfe had his Mufefet with his Frie?id ; the Stage 
 Had mifs'd thofe Poems, which yet take the Age ; 
 ^he World had lojl thofe rich Exemplars , where 
 Art, Language y Wit, Jit ruling in one Sphere j 
 Where the frejh matters f oar above old 'Themes^ 
 As Prophets' Raptures do above our Dreams j 
 Where in a worthy [corn he dares refufe 
 All other Gods, and makes the 'Thing his Mufe 5 
 Where he calls Pajfions up, and lays them fo. 
 As Spirits, aw'd by him to come atid go ; 
 Where the free Author did what-eer he would^ 
 And nothing will'd but what a Poet fiould. 
 
 No vajl uncivil bulk [wells any Scene, 
 The Strength's ingenious, and the Vigour Clean ; 
 JSIone can prevent the Fancy, and fee through 
 At the fir fi Opening-, all fi and wondring how 
 The thing will be, until it is ; which thence 
 Withfrefj Delight fiill cheats, fill takes the Senfe ; 
 The whole Defign, the Shadows, the Lights fuch^ 
 That none can fay he f^ews, or hides too much: 
 Bufinefs grows up, ripe?ied by juji encreafcy 
 And by as juJl Degrees again doth ceafe ; 
 The Heats and Minutes of Affairs are watch' d, 
 Afid the nice Points of Time are met, and fiiatcU d : 
 Nought later than it fldould, nought comes before j 
 Chymifts, and Calcidators, do err 7nore : 
 Sex, Age, Degree, AffeBions, Country, Place^ 
 The ifiward Subflance, and the outward FacCy 
 All kept precifely, all exaBly fit ; 
 What he would write, he was, before he writ, 
 'Twixt Jonfon'i grave, and Shakefpear'j lighter Sound, 
 His Mufe fo fleer dy that fo?jiething fiill was found, 
 
 g 3 Nor 
 
[ 26 ] 
 
 Nor tbisj nor thaf^ nor botl\ but fo his own, 
 That 'twas bis Mdrk, and he was by it known ; 
 Hence did he take true 'Judgments^ he?ice didftrike 
 All Palates fome way, though not all alike : 
 The God of Numbers might his Numbers crown. 
 And J liftjiing to them^ wiJJj they were his own. 
 Thus^ w^^kome forth^ what Eafe^ or Witie, or Wit 
 Durjl yet produce y that is, what Fletcher writ ! 
 
 ANOTHER. 
 X. 
 
 'C'Lctcher, though fome call it thy fault, that Wit 
 
 **- So overflowed thy Scenes, that e'er 'twas ft 
 
 To come upon the Stage, Beaumont was fain 
 
 To bid thee be more dull ; that's, write again, 
 
 And bate fome of thy Fire ; which from thee came 
 
 In a clear, bright, full, but too large a Flame ; 
 
 And after all (fi?idi?ig thy Genius fuch) 
 
 l^hat blunted, and allay' d, 'twas yet too much ; 
 
 Added his fober Spunge ; and did contract 
 
 *Thy Plenty to lefs Wit, to make't cxa5i : 
 
 Tet we through his Corrections could fee 
 
 Much Treafure in thy fuperfluity ; 
 
 Which wasfo fil'd away, as, when we do 
 
 Cut 'Jewels, that that's loft, is few el too : 
 
 Or as Men ufe to wafj Gold, which we know 
 
 By lofmg 7nakes the Stream thence wealthy grow, 
 
 ^oey who do on thy Works feverely fit. 
 
 And call thyftore the Over-Births of Wit, 
 
 Say thy Mif carriages were rare, and when 
 
 Thou wert fuperfluous, that thy fruitful Pen 
 
 Had no fault but abundance, which did lay 
 
 Out in one Scen^ what might wellferve a Play -, 
 
 Afid 
 
f 27 ] 
 
 Ajid hence do grants that, what they call Excefsy 
 
 JVas to be reckoned as thy happinefs^ 
 
 From whom Wit ijfued in a full Spring-tide ; 
 
 Much did inrich the Stage, much fow'd be fide. 
 
 For that thou couldjl thine own free Fancy bind 
 
 JnJlriBer Numbers, and run fo CQnfm'd 
 
 As to obferve the Rules of Art, which fway 
 
 In the contrivance of a true-born Flay ; 
 
 Fhofe Works proclaim, which thou didft write retired 
 
 From Beaumont, by none but thyfelf infpird. 
 
 Where, we fee, 'twas not Chance that made them hit. 
 
 Nor were thy Plays the Lotteries of Wit ; 
 
 ^5 But, like to Durer'j Pencil, which firji knew 
 
 The Laws of Faces, a?id then Faces drew: 
 
 Thou knew ft the Air, the Colour, and the Place, 
 
 The Symmetry, which gives a Poetn Grace, 
 
 Parts are fo fitted unto Parts, as do 
 
 Shew thou hadft Wit, and Mathematicks too : 
 
 Knew' ft where by Line to fpare, where to difpenfey 
 
 And didft beget ju ft Comedies from thence : 
 
 Things unto which thou didft fuch Life bequeath, 
 
 -^ That they, (their ownBhck-Fneis) imaBed^ breath, 
 
 Jonfon hath writ things lafiing, and Divine, 
 
 Tet his Love-Sce?ies, Fletcher, compard to thine. 
 
 Are cold andfrofty ; and exprefs Love fo. 
 
 As Heat with Ice, or warm Fires mixd with Snow -, 
 
 *5 /lie to Dnrer's Pena'/,'^ y^/iert Durer wslsz mott. excellent Gerfftan 
 Painter, (born in 1 47 1 .) much admired even by the great Raphael 
 himfelf; and in fo high Efteem with the Emperor Maximilian the Finl, 
 that he prefented him with a Coat of Arms as the Badge of Nobility. 
 
 Mr. TheobaU. 
 
 *^ That they, [their «m;« Black-Friers] i. e. their own Theatre : 
 meaning, that Fletchers Plays were fo fprightly, that, tho' then unaded 
 (by reafon of the troublefome times, and Civil War which raged againft 
 King Charles the Firft) they wanted no Advantage of a Stage to fet 
 them off. One of the Seven Playhoufes, fubftfting in our Author's 
 Time, was in Biack Fryers, Mr. Theobald. 
 
 g 4 ^''•'^^^ 
 
[ 28 ] 
 
 ^hon^ as ifjlruck ivith the fame generous Darts, 
 
 Which hiu-riy and reign ^ in ?ioble Lovers* Hearts, 
 
 Haft cloath'd AffcBions in fiich native tires ^ 
 
 And Jo defcrib'd them in their own true Fires ; 
 
 Such moving Sighs, Juch undiftemblcd Tears, 
 
 Such Charms of Language, fuch Hopes mix'd with 
 
 Fears -, 
 Such Grants after Denials, fuch Purfuits 
 After Defpair, fuch amorous Recruits, 
 ^hat fojncj who fate SpeBators, have confejl 
 ^hemfelves transformed to what they faw expreft : 
 And felt fuch flmfts fleal through their captiv'dSenfe, 
 As ?nade thein rife Parts, and go Lovers thence. 
 Nor was thy Stile wholly composed of Groves, 
 Or the foft Strains of Shepherds ajid their Loves ; 
 When thou would'Jl Coinick be, each fmiling Birth, 
 In that kind, came into the World all Mirth, 
 All Point, all Edge, all Sharpnefs ; we did fit 
 Sometimes five A5ls out inpure fprightfulWit -, 
 Which flow' d in fuch true Salt, that we did doubt 
 In which Scene we laugh' d moft two Shillings out. 
 *7 Shakefpcar to thee was dull, whofe beft J eft lies 
 I'th' Ladies que ft ions, and the Fools Replies ; 
 
 Old 
 
 *7 Shakefpear to thee 'was dull^ This falfe Cenfure arofe from the 
 irraal fault of Panagerifts, of depreciating others to extol their Favourite. 
 Kad he only faid, as in the former Copy, that Fletcher was in a due 
 Medium between 'Jonfon's Corrcdlnels and Shakefpcar s Fancy, he had 
 done Fletcher as well as himfelf more real Honour. But it mull be obferv'd, 
 tint Beaumont and Fletcher were fo much the general Taftc of the Age, 
 both in C/6^r/£o the Firft and Second's Reign, that Mr. Carti>jright only 
 follows the common Judgment. The Reafon fcems to be this, Jonfon 
 furviv'd both Shakefpcar and our Authors many Years, arvd as he warmly 
 oppos'd the ftrange Irregularities of the Englijh Theatre, at the head of 
 which Irregularities was lo great a Genius as Shakefpcar, he form'd a 
 ftrong Party againft him. But Nature frequently fpoke in Shakefpear fo 
 directly to the Heart, and his Excellences as well as Faults were fo 
 glaring, that the Prejudices againft the latter cp.uld not wholly blind Men 
 
 to 
 
[29] 
 
 Old faJJj'ion' d Wit, which walk' d from Tcwn to Town 
 
 ^^ In triink-hofe, which our Fathers caWd the Clown ; 
 
 Whofe Wit our ?iice times would Obfcenenefs call. 
 
 And which made Bawdry pafs for Comica.1. 
 
 Nature was all his Art j thy Vein was free 
 
 As his J but without his Scurrility ; 
 
 Frofu whom Mirth came unforc d, no fejl perplexed. 
 
 But without labour clean, chajl, and unvcx*d. 
 
 *Thu wert not like fome, our fm all Poets, who 
 
 Could not be Poets, were not we Poets too ; 
 
 Whofe Wit is pi If ring, and whofe Vein and Wealth 
 
 In Poetry lyes meerly in their jlealth ; 
 
 Nor didjl thou feel their Drought, their Pangs, their 
 
 ^lalms, 
 Their Rack in Writing, who do write for Alms ; 
 Whofe wretched Genius, and dependent Fires, 
 But to their BenefaBors' Dole afpires. 
 Nor hadfi thou the fly Trick, thyjelf to praife 
 Under thy Friends' Names; or, to purchafeBays^ 
 Didjl write ft ale Commendations to thy Book, 
 Which we for Beaumont'j or Ben Jonfon'i took : 
 
 to the former. As our Authors refembled him in thefe Excellences 
 more than Jonfon, and yet often follow'd Jonfon\ Corredlnefs and 
 Manner, the Partifans both of Shake/pear and Jon/on were willing to 
 compromife it, and allow them the firft Honours, as partaking of both 
 their Excellences. After the Reftoration, French Rules of the Drama 
 were introduc'd, and our Authors being nearer them than Shake/pear, 
 they nill held their Superiority. 
 
 i' In iurnd Hofe,'^ This is Nonfenfe j and a Corruption either by 
 the Tranfcribers, oratPrefs. We mull read, Trunkhoji ; i.e. a kind 
 of large Slops, or Trowzers, worn by the Clowns, So in the 25th 
 Copy of Verfes ; 
 
 * "TTou T<wo thought Jit 
 
 Jow^earjuji Robes, and leave oJ~ Ttunk-hok fflt' 
 
 Mr. TbeohaU. 
 
 That 
 
[ 30 ] 
 
 ^hat Debt thou kfffi to us, ivhich none but he 
 Can truly pay^ Fletcher, ivho writes like thee. 
 
 *9 William Cartwright. 
 
 To the Manes of the celebrated Poets and Fellow- 
 writers, Francis Beaumont and John 
 Fl etcher, upon the Printing of their Ex- 
 cellent Dramatick Poems. 
 
 XI. 
 
 DTfdain not, gentle Shades, the lowly Praife 
 Which here 1 tender your immortal Bays : 
 Call it not Folly, but my Zeal, that I 
 Strive to Eternize Tou, that camiot dye. 
 And though no Language rightly can commend 
 What you have writ, fave ivhat your Jelves have 
 
 penn'd ; 
 Tet let me wonder at thofe curious Strains 
 (The rich Conceptions of your Twin-like Brains) 
 Which drew the Gods attention ; who admir'd 
 T'ofee our Englifh Stage by you infpir'd: 
 Whofe chiming Mufcs never fail' d tofmg 
 A Soul-affeBing Mujick 5 raviping 
 
 *9 William CartiurightP^ Mr. Cartnuright was ellcem'd one of the 
 beft Poets, Orators, and Philofophers of his Age ; he was firft a King's 
 Scholar at Wejlminjler, then Student of ChrJjl- Church, Oxon. Wood 
 calls him the moft Serapliical Preacher of his Age, another Tully and 
 another Virgil: He died about the Age of Thirty in 1643, in the Year 
 of his Prodlorfhip, when King Charles the Firft was at Oxford^ by 
 whom his Death was moft afTeftionately mourned. He wrote the 
 Lady Errant, The Royal Slave, and Lo've's Concert, Tragi- Comedies. 
 And a Volume of his Poems were printed after his Death, See Wood's 
 Athena. 
 
 Both 
 
[31] 
 
 Both Ear and hitelleB ; while you do Each 
 Contend with Other who Jha/l higheji reach 
 In rare Invention j ConjiiBs^ that beget 
 New Jlrange Delight, to fee two Fancies met, 
 That could receive 710 foil • two Wits in growth 
 So jufty as had 'one Soul i?! formed Both. 
 Thence (Learned Fletcher) fung the Mufe alone ^ 
 As both had done before, thy Beaumont gojie. 
 In whom, as thou, had he out-liv'd, fo he 
 {Snatch'' d firji away) furvived flill in thee. 
 
 What though Dijie?npers_cf the prefcnt Age 
 Have banijh'd your fmooth Numbers from the Stage t 
 Tou JImll be gainers bft -, it fhall confer 
 To tlf making the vafl World your Theater -, 
 The Prefs JJjall give to every Man his par t. 
 And we will all be ASlors ; learn by heart 
 Thofe Tragic Scenes and Comic Strains you writ, 
 TJni mi table both for Art and Wit ; 
 And, at each Exit, as your Fancies rife. 
 Our Hands fJoall clap deferved Plaudities, 
 
 3° John Webb. 
 
 3» John Webb.'] I find no other Traces of a John Tfebb who was 
 likely to be Author of this ingenious Copy of Verfes ; but that in 1 629, 
 four Years after Fletchers Death, one John Webb, M. A. and Fellow of 
 Magdalene College in Oxford, was made Mailer of Cm7))<j'(?« School. He 
 was probably our Mr. IFcLb, and much nearer the Times of our Authors 
 than Mr. Cartiuright, and had I difcovered this foon enough, he fhould 
 have took, place of liim ; but hisTeftimony of Beaumonii Abilities, as 
 a Writer, is a proper Antidote againft Mr. Cartivright'i traditional 
 Opinion. 
 
 
[32] 
 
 On the Wo R K s of the moft excellent Dramatic Poet, 
 Mr. John Fl etc her, never before printed. 
 
 XII. 
 
 HAIL, Fletcher! welcome to the World's great 
 Stage ; 
 For our two Hours, we have thee here an Age 
 In thy whole Works^ and may th' Imprcffion call 
 ^he Pretor that prefcnts thy Plays to all: 
 Both to the People, and the Lords that fw ay 
 *That Herd, a?id Ladies whom thofe Lords obey. 
 And what's the Load/lone can fuch Guejls invite 
 But moves on two Poles, Profit and Delight ? 
 Which will be foon, as on the Rack, confeji^ 
 When every one is tickled with a yejl : 
 3^ And that pure Fletcher'^ able to fubdue 
 A Melancholy more than Burton knew. 
 And though upon the by, to his Defigns 
 *Lhe Native may learn Englifi from his Lines, 
 And tlf Alien, if he can but conflrue it. 
 May here be made free Denifon of Wit. 
 But his main End does dr$oping Virtue raife. 
 And crowns her Beauty with eternal Bays j 
 In Scenes where fie inflames the frozen Soul, 
 While Vice (her Paint wafi'd off) appears fo foul-. 
 She mufi this bleffed Iflc and Europe leave. 
 And fome new Quadrant of the Globe deceive: 
 Or hide her Blufljes on the Afric Shore, 
 Like Marius, but ne'er rife to triumph more -, 
 
 5 ' j4nii that pure Fletcher, able to fubdue 
 
 A Melancholy more than Burton knenxj^ Mr, Sympfon obferv*d 
 that the Comma flood in the place of */, Fletcher is able. Burton was 
 Author of The Anatomy of Me/^cho/y, a Folio, 
 
 ^ That 
 
[ 33 ] 
 
 T'hat Honour is refign'd to Fletcher'^ Fame-, 
 Add to his Trophies, that a Poet'j Name 
 (Late grow?i as odious to our Modern States, 
 As that of King to Rome) he vindicates 
 From black Afperfwns, caji upon't by thofe 
 Which only are infpir'd to lie in Profe. 
 
 And, By the Court of Mufes be't Decreed, 
 What Graces fpri?2g from Poefy's richer Seed, 
 When we name Fletcher, Jhall be fo proclaim' d^ 
 As ally that's Royal, is ivhen Cxliu's nam'd. 
 
 3^ Robert Stapylton, Kf. 
 
 To the Memory of my moft honoured Kinfman, 
 Mr. Francis Beaumont. 
 
 XIII, 
 
 I'L L not pronounce howfirong and clean thou wrifjl^ 
 Nor by what new hard Rules thou took' ft thy Flights ^ 
 Nor how much Greek and L^itmfome refine ^ 
 Before they can make up fix Words of thine ; 
 But this Til fay y thou flnk'Ji our Senfe fo deepy 
 At once thou mak'Ji us bluJJj, rejoice, and weep. 
 Great Father Jonfon bow'd himfelf when he 
 (Thou wrif/lfo nobly) vow'd, he envy'd thee. 
 Were thy Mardonius arm'd-y there would be more 
 Strife for his Sword than ^7/ Achilles wore ; 
 
 J* ^\r Robert Stapylton of Carelton in Torkjhire, a Poet of much 
 Fame, was at the Battle of £</^^^/// with ILmgCharles the ift. and had 
 an honorary Degree giv'n him at Oxford for his Behaviour on that 
 Occafioru He wrote The Slighted Maid, a Comedy; The Step-Mother, 
 a Tragicomedy ; and Hero and Leander, a Tragedy; befides feveral 
 Poems and Tranflatjons. 
 
 Such 
 
[ 3+ ] 
 
 Such wife juft Rnge^ had he been lately trfd. 
 My Life oii't, he had been oth' better' fide-. 
 And, where he found falfe odds, [through Gold or Sloth) 
 There brave Mardonius ivould have beat them both. 
 
 Behold, here's Fletcher tool the World ne'er knew 
 T'wo Potent Wits co-operate, till you; 
 For fiill your Fancies are fo ivov^n and knit, 
 ^'Twas Francis Fletcher, or John Beaumont writ, 
 let 7ieitljer borrowed, nor were fo put to't 
 7J? call poor Gods and Goddeffes to do't ; 
 Nor made nine Girls your Mufes (youfuppofe. 
 Women ne'er write, f'ave Lovc-Letters in Profe) 
 ■But are your own Infpirers, and have made 
 Such powerful Scenes, as, when they pleafe, invades 
 2'our Plot, Senfe, Language, all's fo pure and fit. 
 He's Bold, not Valiant, dare difpute your Wit. 
 
 33 George Lille, Kt. 
 
 3 J Georgt LiJIe, Knight ] This I take to be the fame with Sir John 
 Lif.e one of King C^«r/?/s Judges ; for Wood, in his Index to his Athena ^ 
 calls Sir John by the Name of George: He might perhaps have had 
 two Chriitian Names. If this was he, he was admitted at Oxford \n the 
 Year 1622, feven Years after Beaumont's Death, and as he was a 
 Kinfman might be fuppofed to know more of his Compofitions than a 
 Stranger. His Teftimony therefore adds Strength to what has been 
 before advanc'd concerning Beaumont^ nay it does fo whether Sir George 
 LiJIe be the Regicide or not. If he was, he was an eminent Lawyer 
 and Speaker in the Houfe of Commons, and made Lord Commiffioner 
 of the Privy-Seal by the Parliament. After the Reftoration he fled to 
 Lofanna in Sixiitzerland, where he was treated as Lord Chancellor of 
 Englatidf which fo irritated fome furious Irijh Loyalifts that they fhot 
 him dead as he was going to Church. 
 
 On 
 
[ 35 ] 
 
 On Mr. JohnFletcher'j Works. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 SO Jhall we joy ^ when all whom Beajis andlForms 
 Had turned to their own Subjiajices and Forms, 
 Whom Earth to Earthy or Fire hath changed to Fire^ 
 We p:)all behold y more than at Jirfl intire. 
 As now we do^ to fee all thine ^ thine own 
 In this thy Miife's RefurreSiion : 
 JVhofefcatterd F arts ^ from thy own Race, more Wounds 
 Hathfufferd, than A&itonfrom his Hounds-, 
 Which jirft their Brains, and then their Bellies, fed. 
 And from their Excrements new Poets bred. 
 But now thy Mufe enraged fro7n her Urn, 
 Like Ghojis of murder' d Bodies, doth return 
 3"' accufe the Murderers, to right the Stage, 
 And undeceive the long- abufed Age -, 
 Which cafs thy Fraife on them, to whom thy Wit 
 Gives not more Gold than they give Drofs to it : 
 Who, 7iot content like Felons to purloin. 
 Add Treafon to it, and debafe thy Coin. 
 
 But whither am I fray' d ? I need not raife 
 'Trophies to thee from other Meiis Difpraife ; 
 Nor is thy Fame on leffer Ruins built. 
 Nor needs thy jufler Title the foul Guilt 
 Of Eafter7i Kings, who, to fecure their Reign, 
 Muji have their Brothers, Sons, and Kindred flainl 
 Then was 5* Wifs E??tpire at the fatal height. 
 When, lab' ring and finking with its weight, 
 
 itr — Wit's Empire at the fatal Height,'] i. e. The higheft Pitch 
 which Fate allows it to rife to. The following Account of Shake/pear^ 
 yonfon, and Fletcher, tho' rather too favourable to the laft, is as much 
 preferable to all the former Poets Encomiums as Sir John was preferable 
 to them in Abilities as a Poet. 
 
 From 
 
[ 36] 
 
 From thence a thoufand lejfer Poeisfprung, 
 Like petty Princes from the fall of Rome. 
 When Jonfon, Shakefpear, and tbyfelfdid^t, 
 Andfwafd in the Triumvirate of Wit. 
 Tet what from JonfonV Oil and Sweat did flow. 
 Or what more eafy Nature did beflow 
 On Shakefpear 'i gentler Mufe^ in thee full grown 
 ^heir Graces both appear ; yet fo^ that none 
 Can fay, here Nature ends, and Art begins ; 
 But mixt, like tif 'Elements, and born like 'Twins ; 
 So interweavd,fo like, fo much the fame. 
 None this mere Nature, that mere Art can name : 
 'Twas this the Ancie?2ts meant-, Nature and Skill 
 Are the two T^ops of their Parnafliis Hill. 
 
 J. Denham. 
 
 Upon Mr. John Fletcher's Plays. 
 
 XV. 
 
 F Letcher, to thee, we do not only owe 
 All thefe good Plays, but thofe of others too : 
 Thy Wit, repeated, does fupport the Stage -, 
 Credits the laft, and entertains this Age : 
 No Worthies form' d by any Mufe, but thine. 
 Could pur chafe Robes to make themfehes fo fine : 
 What brave Commander is not proud to fee 
 Thy brave Melantius in his Gallantry^ 
 Our greatefl Ladies love to fee their Scorn 
 Out-done by thine, in what themfelves have worn : 
 Th' impatient Widow, e'er the Tear be done^ 
 Sees thy Afpafia weeping in her Gown : 
 
f 37 1 
 
 I never yet the Tragic Strain aJJafJ, 
 Deterr d by that inimitable Maid : 
 And when I venture at the Comic Stile, 
 3> Thy Scornful hidyfeems to mock my toil : 
 Thus has thy Mufe, at once, improved and marr'd 
 Our Sport in Plays, by rejid'ring it too hard. 
 So ivhen a fort of lufly Shepherds throw 
 The Bar by turns, a?id none the refl outgo 
 So far, but that the befl are meafuring Cafls, 
 Their Emulation and their Pajlime lajis ; 
 But iffome Brawny Teoma?t of the Guard 
 Step in, and tofs the Axle-tree a Yard, 
 Or more, beyond the farthefl Mark, the refl 
 Defpairing fiand, their Sport is at the befl. 
 
 Edw, Waller* 
 
 To FLETCHER Reviv'd. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 HO W have I been Religious ? whatflrange Good 
 Has fcap'd me, that I never u?iderfiood? 
 Have I Hell-guarded Hcrefy overthrown F 
 Heal'd wounded States ? made Kings and Kingdoms 
 
 one? 
 That Fate Jhould befo merciful to me. 
 To let me live t*havefaid, I have read thee. 
 
 iS Thy Scornful Lady — ] Many great Men, as well as Mr. Waller, 
 have celebrated this Play. Beaumanfi Hand is vifible in fome high 
 Caracatures, but I muft own my Diffent to its being call'd a Firft-rate 
 Comedy ; I propos'd to have put it in the fecond Clafs in the Preface, 
 where I have divided our Authors Plays into three ClafTcs, but by an 
 unfortunate Overfight this Play was omitted, 
 
 V o L. I. h Fair 
 
[38] 
 
 Fair Star, afcend I the Joy ! the Life ! the Light 
 Of this tempefiuous Age, this dark IVbrld's Sight ! 
 db,from thy Crown of Glory dart one Flame 
 May jirike a facred Reverence, whilfi thy Name 
 [Like holy Fiamens to their God of Day) 
 We, bowing, Jing ; and whilft we praife, 'we fray. 
 
 Bright Spirit ! ivhofe Eternal Motion 
 Of Wit, like Time, jlill in itfelf did run ; 
 Binding all others in it, and did give 
 Commiffion, how far this, or that, JJjall live : 
 s*" Like Deftiny, thy Poems ; who, as Jhe 
 Signs Death to all, herfelf can never dye. 
 
 And now thy Purple-robed Tragedy, 
 In her imbroider'd Buskins, calls mine Eye, 
 Where brave Aedus we fee betrafd, Vaientiniaffi, 
 
 *T' obey his Death, whom thoufa?id Lives obefd; 
 Whilft that the Mighty Fool bis Scepter breaks. 
 And through his Gen'ral*5 Wounds his own Doom 
 
 peaks'. 
 Weaving thus richly Valentinian, 
 IThe coftlieji Monarch with the cheapeji Man, 
 
 3* Ltie J^e^hy of Poem, w^tr, asj^e 
 
 Sings Death to all, herfelf can never d^e.'^ Th» is extremely ob- 
 fcurc : He fays firft, that Fletcher is the Spirit of Poetry, that he is the 
 God of it, and has decreed the Fate of all other Poems, whether they 
 are to live or dye ; after this he is like the Dcftiny of Poems, and living 
 only himfeif figns Death to all others. This is very high-ftrain'd indeed, 
 and rather felf-contradidory, for Fletcher'^ Spirit gives Commiffion how 
 far fome fhall live and yet figns Death to all. A flight Change will 
 make fomewhat eafier and clearer Senfe. I underftand the four firfl: 
 Lines thus ; Fletchers Poetry ic the ftandard of Excellence ; whatever 
 is not form'd by that Model muft dye, therefore I read. 
 
 Like Defiiny, tljy Poems i \. e. 'f'hy Poems being the ftandard of 
 Excellence, are like DeHiny, which determines the Fate of others, 
 but herfelf remains ftill the fame. I republifti this Poem as there are 
 ftrong Marks of Genius ia it, partkularly in fome of the following 
 Paragrapiu. 
 
 Soldiers 
 
f 39 3 
 
 Soldiers may here to their old Glories addy 
 The Lover love^ and be with reafon Mad : The Mad LoT«r* 
 Not as of old Alcidts furious, 
 Whoy wilder than his Bull, did tear the Houfe ; 
 {Hurling his Language with the Canvas Stone) 
 *Twas thought y the Monjler roar'd the fob* rer 'Tone, 
 
 But, ah I when thou thy for row didjl infpire 
 With PaJJions black as is her dark Attire, 
 Virgins, as Sufferers, have wept to fee Arcar. 
 
 So white a Soul, fo red a Cruelty ; BdJario. 
 
 That thou hajl griev'd, and, with unthought Redrefs^ 
 Drfd their wet Eyes who now thy Mercy blefs j 
 Tet, loth to lofe thy watry fewel, when 
 foy wifd it off. Laughter Jir ait Jprung't agen. 
 
 Now ruddy-cheeked Mirth with rofy Wings ^^"^"1'^* 
 Fans ev'ry Brow with gladnefs, whiljljhefmgs curate. 
 Delight to all; and the whole Theatre roujLicutenMt, 
 
 A Fefiival in Heaven d&th appear. 
 Nothing but Pleafure, Love -y and (like the The Ttmet 
 
 Lach Face a general fmiling doth adorn. French uwyer. 
 
 Hear, ye foul Speakers, that pronounce the Air 
 Of Stews and Sewers, I will inform you where ^ 
 And how, to cloath aright '^our wanton Wit 5 
 Without her najiy Bawd attending it. The cuHom 
 
 View here a loofe Thought faid with fuch a ^'^^^'C^'^''^- 
 
 Grace, 
 Minerva might have [poke in Venus' Face j 
 So well difguis'd, that 'twas conceivi'd by none] 
 But Cupid had Diana'i Linnen on -, 
 And all his naked Parts fo vail'd, f exprefs 
 The Shape with clouding the Uncomelinefs ; 
 That if this Reformation, which we 
 Received, had not been buried 'with thee^ 
 
 h 2 The 
 
[ 40 ] 
 
 ne Stage, as this Work, might ha'vc li'u\i and lov* d y 
 Hc'r Lifjes the aujlere Scarlet had approved ; 
 And th' Adtors ivifely been from that Offence 
 As clear, as they are now from Audience. 
 
 Thus ivith thy Genius did the Scene expire. 
 Wanting thy a^ive and enlivening Fire, 
 That now (to fprcad a Dark7iefs over all,) 
 Nothing remains but Poefy to fall. 
 And though from thefe thy Embers 'we receive 
 Some Warmth, fo much as may be [aid, ive live -, 
 That we dare praife thee, blufhlefs, in the Head 
 Of the bejl piece Hermes to Love e'er read j 
 That we rejoice and glory in thy Wit, 
 Andfeafl each other with remembring it ; 
 That we dare fpeak thy Thought, thy ABs recite : 
 Tet all Men henceforth be afraid to write. 
 
 37 Rich. Lovelace. 
 
 Upon the unparallel'd Plays written by thofc 
 
 renowned Twins of Poetry, Beaumont 
 
 and Fletcher. 
 
 XVIL 
 
 W hate's her e^ ^'^ another Library of Praife, 
 Met in a Troop t' advance contemned Flays, 
 
 And 
 
 J 7 "Rich, Lovelace."] This Gentleman was eldeft Son of a good Fa- 
 mily, extremely accomplifli'd, being very eminent for Wit, Poetry, and 
 Mufic, but ftill more fo for Politcnefs of Manners and Beauty of Pcrfon. 
 He had an ample Fortune and every Advantage that feem'd to pro- 
 mife Happinefs in Life; but his fteady Attachment to the Royal Caufe, 
 and a Liberality that perhaps approached too near Profufencfs, reduc'd 
 him to extreme Poverty. Something of the Gaiety cf the Soldier ap- 
 pears in the beginning of this Poem. His Poems were publiihcd in 1 749. 
 
 i^ another Library of Praife,] This alludes to the numerous 
 
 commendatory Copies of Verfcs on 7otn. Coryate*^ Crut^itits, which fwell'd 
 
 into 
 
f4i] 
 
 And brifig exploded Wit again in Fajhion f - 
 
 / ca?i't but wonder at this Reformation. 
 
 My skipping Soulfurfeits withfo much good^ 
 
 *To fee my Hopes into Fruition bud. 
 
 A happy Cliymiftry / bleji Viper ^ Joy ! 
 
 T^hat through thy Mother's Bowels gnaw^fi thy way / 
 
 Wits flock in Shoals y 39 a?id club to re-ereSl 
 Infpite of Ignorance the Archite6i 
 Of Occidental Votiy; and turn 
 Gods, to recal Wits Afiesfroni their Urn, 
 Like huge ColofTcs, "^^ they've together knit 
 *Iheir Shoulders to fupport a World of Wit, 
 
 T^he Talc of Atlas (though of 'Truth it mifs) 
 We plainly read Mythologiz'd in this-, 
 
 into an entire Volume. This is touch'd at in the 23d Copy of Verfes, 
 by Richard Brome. 
 
 For the ixjitty Copies took. 
 Of his Encomiums made themfcl<vts a Book. Mr. Theohald, 
 
 3 9 . and club to re-eleft 
 
 In fpite of Ignorance the Archite£l 
 
 Of Occidental Poe/y; — ] I am now correfling the foul (heet from 
 the Prefs, at thirty Miles diltance from my old Editions, fo know not 
 whether re-eled be the Error of former Prefles or only of the pre lent. I 
 read re-ereH, which better correfponds with the Metaphors both in this 
 and the following Sentence. As an Architeft his Poems are re-built » 
 as he was dead he was raifed to Life. 
 
 they've together met 
 
 7h(ir Shoulders to fupport a World of Wit.~\ I (hould not find fault 
 with Met and Wit being made Rhimes here, (the Poets of thofe Times 
 giving themfelves fuch a Licence) but that two Perfons meeting their 
 Shtulders is neither Senfe nor Englijh! I am therefore perfuaded the Au- 
 thor wrote knit. So twice in the Vlllth Copy by Jafpf'' Maine, 
 In Fame, as ivell as Writings^ both fo knit^ 
 That no Man knonvs ijohere to divide your Wit. 
 And again, 
 
 A/or 'Wtrt you thus in Works and Potms knit. See. 
 
 Mr. fheobalJ. 
 
 h 3 Orpheus 
 
C 42 ] 
 
 Orpheus and Amphion, ivhofe undying Stories 
 
 Made Athtns famous, are but Allegories, 
 
 ^Tis Poetry has Poller to civilize 
 
 Men, ijoorfe than Stones, more blockip^ than the Treei^ 
 
 I cafinot choofc but think (now things fo fall) 
 
 That Wit is pafl its Climaderical ; 
 
 ^nd though the Mufes ha^ve been dead and gone, 
 
 Iknoiv, they'll find a Refurredion. 
 
 'T^is '■jai?! to praife -, they're to thewfelves a Glory, 
 And Silence is our five et eft Oratory. 
 ]For he, that names but Fletcher, muji needs be 
 Found guilty of a loud Hyperbole. 
 His Fancy fo tranfcendently afpires, 
 Plefows himfelf a Wit, loho but admires. 
 
 Here are no Volumes ftuft with cheverel Senf\ 
 ^he very Anagrams of Eloquence ; 
 ]S!or lc?ig- long-winded Sentences that be. 
 Being rightly fpelVd, but Wifs Stenography j 
 Nor Words, as void of Reafon, as of Rhime^ 
 Only cafura'd to fpin out the time. 
 But here's a Magazine of pur eft Senfe^ 
 Cloth* d in the neweft Garb of Eloquence : 
 Scenes that are quick and fprightly, in whofe Vein^ 
 Bubbles the ^linteftence of fweet^high Strains, 
 Lines, like their Authors, and each Word of it 
 Does fay, 'twas writ b' a Gemini of Wit, 
 
 How happy is cur Age I how bleft our Men / 
 Whenfuch rare Souls live themfelves o'er again^ 
 We err, that think, a Poet dies 3 for this 
 Shews, that 'tis but a Metempfychofis. 
 Beaumont and Fletcher here, at laft, we fee 
 Above the reach of dull Mortality^ 
 
 Or 
 
f 43 ] 
 
 Or Tow'r of Fate : and thus the Proverb hits, 
 (Thafs fo fnuch crojs'd) Thefe Men live by their 
 Wits. Alex. Brome, 
 
 On thQ D E A r H ^d PFO R K S of 
 Mr. John Fletcher. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 MTName, fo far from great, that "tis not hiown^ 
 Can lend no Fraife but what thou'dft blupo to own i 
 And no rude Hand, or feeble Wit, fiould dare 
 To vex thy Shrine ivith an unlearned Tear. 
 
 Id have a State of Wit convoked, which hath 
 A Power to take up on the common Faith ; 
 That^ when the Stock of the whole Kingdom's fpent 
 In but Preparative to thy Monument, 
 The prudent Council may invent frejJo Ways 
 To get new Contribution to thy Praife ; 
 And rear it high, and equal to thy Wit -, 
 Which muji give Life and Monument to it. 
 
 *' So when, late, Eflex dfd, the public k Face 
 Wore Sorrow in't ; and to add mournful Grace 
 To the fad Pomp of his lamented Fall, 
 The Commonwealth ffrv* d at his Funeral, 
 And by a folemn Order built his Hearfe ; 
 — But not like thine, built by thyfelf in Verfe, 
 Where thy advanced Image fafely Jiands 
 Above the reach offacrilegious Hands. 
 
 4« So nx^hen, late, Effex dfd,'\ The Earl of EJfex, who had been 
 General for the Parliament in the Civil War againft King CharUt the 
 Firft, dyed on the 14th of September, 1646, and the firft Folio of Beau- 
 tntnt and Fltlcbcri Works was publifti'd in 1647. Mr. Ihtohald. 
 
 h 4 Bafe 
 
[ 4+ ] 
 
 Bafe Hands, how impotently you difchfe 
 
 Your Rage 'gainjt Camden 'j learned AJhes, whofe 
 
 Defaced Statua a fid martyr d Book, 
 
 Like an A?itiquity and Fragment look. 
 
 Nonnulla defunt'i legibly appear. 
 
 So truly ?ioiv Camden'j Remains lye there. 
 
 Vain Malice I how he mocks thy Rage, while Breath 
 
 Of Fame Jljall /peak his great Elizabeth ! 
 
 *GaitiJi 'Time and thee he well provided hath ; 
 
 Britannia is the Tomb and Epitaph. 
 
 J'hus Princes Honours ; but JVit only gives 
 
 A Name which to fucceeding Ages lives. 
 
 Singly we 7iow confult Ourfelves and Fame, 
 Ambitious to twifl ours with thy great Name, 
 Hence nve thus bold to praife. For as a Vine, 
 With fubtle Wreath and clofe Embrace, doth twine 
 A friendly Elm, by whofe tall Trunk it fhoots 
 And gathers Growth and Moijlure from its Roots ; 
 About its Arms the thankful Clufiers cling 
 hike Bracelets, and with Purple ammelling 
 The blue-cheek' d Grape, ftuck in its vernant Hair, 
 Hangs like rich 'Jewels in a beauteous Ear. 
 So grow our Praifcs by thy Wit ; we do 
 Borrow Support and Strength, and lend but Show, 
 
 Oh for a Spark of that diviner Fire, 
 Which thy full Brea/i did animate and infpire-. 
 That Souls could be divided, thou traduce 
 But afmall Particle of thine to us I 
 Of thine-, which we admir'd when thou didjift 
 But as a Joint-commiffoner in Wit ; 
 When it had Plummets hung on to fupprefs 
 Its too luxuriant growing Mightinefs : 
 * Till as that Tree which fcorns to be kept down^ 
 Thou grew'fi to govern the whole Stage alone. 
 
 In 
 
[45] 
 
 Jn which Orb thy thronged Light did mah the Star, 
 
 ^hou weft th' Intelligence did move that Sphere, 
 
 T^hy Fury was composed ; Rapture no Fit 
 
 7 hat hujig on thee ; nor thou far gone in Wit 
 
 As Men in a Difeafe ; thy Fancy clear , 
 
 *^ Mufe chaji^ as thofe Flames whence they took their 
 
 Fire ; 
 No/purious Compofures among/i thine 
 Got in Adultery 'twixt Wit and Wine, 
 
 And as th' hermetic al Phyftcians draw 
 From things that Curfs of the firjl-broken Law, 
 'That Ens Venenum, which extracted thence 
 Leaves nought but priniitive Good and Innocetice: 
 So was thy Spirit calcined; no Mixtures there 
 But perfeB^ fuch as next to Simples are. 
 Not like thofe Meteor-wits which wildly jly 
 In Storm and Thunder through tif amazed Sky ; 
 Speaking but th' Ills and Villanies in a State, 
 Which Fools admire, and wife Men tremble at. 
 Full of Portent and Prodigy, whofe Gall 
 Oft f capes the Vice, and on the Man doth fall. 
 Nature us'd all her Skill, when thee fie meant 
 A Wit at OHce both Great and Innocent. 
 
 Tet thou hadfi Tooth ; but 'twas thy Judgment, not 
 For mendi?ig one Word a whole Sheet to blot. 
 
 ♦ » Mufe chajl, as thofe Frames 'whence they took their Tire ;] This fecms 
 obfcurc, for what are thofe frames whence Fletcher took his Fire ? The 
 Stars ? Ev'n if this was meant, I ftiould think flames the better Word ; 
 but as flames will fignify hiai'enly fire in general, either the Stars, Sun, 
 Angels, or even the Spirit of God himfelf, who maketh his Minijlen 
 Flames of fire: I much prefer the Word, and believe it the Original. 
 As this Poet was a Clergyman of Charadler, with regard to his Sanclity, 
 and much celebrates fletcberh Chaftity of Sentiments and Language, 
 it is very evident that many Words which appear grofs to us were not 
 fo in King Charles the Firft's Age. See Page 54, 55, and 56 of the 
 Preface. 
 
 Thou 
 
[46 J 
 
 7hu couUjl anatomijfe with ready Arf^ 
 And skilful Handy Crimes lockt clofe up i' fly Heart. 
 Ikou couldft unfold dark Plots ^ andjhew that Path 
 By which Ambit io7i climb' d to Greatnefs hath ; 
 , ^hou eouldfi the Rifes, Turns, and Falls of States, 
 How near they were their Periods and Dates i 
 Couldft mad the SubjeB into popular Rage, 
 And the grown Seas of that great Storm affwagei 
 Dethrone ufurping Tyrants^ and place there 
 The lawful Prince and true Inherit er ; 
 Knew'/i all dark Turnings in the Labyri?itb 
 Of Policy J which who but knows he finn'th^ 
 Save thee, who un-infeBed didfl walk in't 
 As the great Genius of Government . 
 And when thou laidft thy Tragic Buskin by 
 To court the Stage with gentle Comedy, 
 How new, how proper tlf Humours, how exprefs^d 
 In rich Variety, how neatly drefs'd 
 In Language, how rare Plots, what Strength of Wit 
 Shind in the Face and every Limb of it ! 
 The Stage grew narrow while thou grewft to he 
 In thy whole Life an Exc'llent Comedy. 
 
 To thefe a Virgin-modejiy which firft met 
 Applaufe with BlufJ^ and Fear, as if he yet 
 Had not deferv'd', 'till bold with conftant Praifi 
 His Brows admitted the unfought for Bays. 
 Nor would he ravijh Fame -, but let Men free 
 To their own Vote and Ingenuity, 
 When his fair Shephcrdefs on the guilty Stage, 
 Was ?nartyr'd between Ignorance and Rage ; 
 At which the i inpatient Virtues of thofe few 
 Could judge, grew high, crfd Murder : though he knew 
 *Ihe Innocence and Beauty of his Child^ 
 He only, as if unconcerned, fmiN, 
 
 Princes 
 
[47] 
 
 ♦5 Princes have gather' djince each feat fer'^d Gracf^ 
 Each Line and Beauty of that injured Face ; 
 Aiid on th' united Farts breath djuch a Fire 
 Asfpight of Malice fie Jhall ne'er expire. 
 
 Attending^ not affeBingy thus the Crown, 
 ^m every Hand did help tofet it on^ 
 He came to be file Monarchy and did reign 
 In Wifs great Empire, absolute Sovereign. 
 
 ^'^ John Harris. 
 
 On Mr. John Fletcher, and his Wo r k s, 
 
 never before Publiflied. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 TO flatter living Fools is cafy Slight : 
 But hardy to do the living-dead Men Right, 
 
 ♦ ' Princes have gatbcf-'d Jlnce each fcatterd Grace, 
 
 Each Line and Beauty of that inju/d 'Bace\\ This relates to King 
 Charles the Firft caufing The Faithful Shepherdefs to be reviv'd, and a<fle4 
 before him. The Lines are extremely beautiful, and do honour to the 
 King's Tafle in Poetry, which as it comes from an Adverfa'-y (tho* 
 certainly a very candid one, and who before condemn'd the Fire-brand-* 
 Scriblers and Meteor-Wits of his Age) is a ftrong Proof of its being 
 a very good one. Queen Elizabeth may be call'd the Mother of tlicr 
 Englijh Poets; James the Firft was a Pedagogue to them, encourag'd 
 their Literature but debas'd it with Puns and Pedantry ; Charles tlie 
 Firft reviv'd a good Tafte, but the Troubles of his Reign prevented the 
 great EfFeds of his Patronage. 
 
 ♦ 4 fohn Harris was of Ncvj-Collcge, Oxford, Greek Profeflbr of tlia 
 Univerfity, and fo eminent a Preacher that he was call'd a fecond Chry- 
 fcjiom. In the Civil Wars he fided with the Presbyterian?, and was one 
 oi the Affemhly of Divixes^ and is the only Poet in this Colleftion whom 
 we certainly know to have been for the Parliament againft the Kirg. 
 His Poem has great Merit ; the fine Break after the mention of the Fn.rl 
 of EJfex, and the Simile of the Elm and Ciufters of Grapes, deferve a 
 particular Attention. After this Simile I have ftruck out fome I,infs 
 that were unequal in Merit to their Bretliren, left the Reader, tired with 
 thcfe, {hould ftop too ftiort; for thofc which now follow, tho' unjqft with 
 regard W Bean-'nont, are poetically good. 
 
 To 
 
[ 48 J 
 
 'To pralfe a landed Lord^ is gainful Art : 
 
 But thanklefs to pay Tribute to Defert. 
 
 ^hisjljould have been my Task: 1 had Intent 
 
 To bring my Rubbiflj to thy Monumejit, 
 
 To flop fome Crannies there ^ but that I found 
 
 No Need of lea ft Repair ; all firm and found* 
 
 Thy well-built Fame doth ftill itfelf adva?jce 
 
 Above the IVorhVs mad Zeal and Ignorance. 
 
 Though thou died ft not pojfeft of that fame Pelfy 
 
 Wloich nobler Souls call Dirt, the City, Wealth : 
 
 Tet thou hafl left unto the Times fo great 
 
 A Legacy, a Treafure fo compleat. 
 
 That 'twill be hard, I fear, to prove thy Will ; 
 
 Men will be Wrangling, and in Doubting flill^ 
 
 Howfo vafi Sums of Wit were left behind-. 
 
 And yet nor Debts, nor Sharers, they can find. 
 
 ^Twas the kind Providence of Fate to lock 
 
 Some of this Treafure up ; and keep a Stock 
 
 For a Referve until thefe fullcn Days : 
 
 When Scorn, and Want, and Danger, are the Bays 
 
 That crown the Head of Merit. But now he^ 
 
 Who in thy Will hath part, is rich and free. 
 
 But there's a Caveat entered by Command, 
 
 None fhould pretend, but thofe can underfiand. 
 
 *5 Henry Moody, Bart. 
 
 ^ J Sir Henry Moody Was of the Number of thofe Gentlemen who had 
 honorary Degrees confcrr'd by King Charles the Firft at his Return to 
 Oxford after the Battle of EdgehilL The Poem has fomc (Irong Marks 
 of Genius in it, particularly in thefe Lines, 
 
 — ■ until thefe fullen Days : 
 
 When Scorn, and Want, and Danger, are the Bays 
 That cronx^n the Head of Merit. 
 I confefs myfelf a great Admirer of Verfcs in Rhime, whofe Paufes run 
 into each other as boldly as blank Verfe itfelf When our Moderns cor- 
 refted many Faults in the Meafurc of our Verfc by making the Accents 
 jilwJ^ys fall on right Syllables, and laying afidc thofe harfh Elifions us'd 
 
 t>7 
 
[49] 
 
 On the Deceafed Aiithor, Mr. John Fletcher^ 
 his Plays ; and efpecially, The Mad Lover, 
 
 46 XT JHilfi his well-organ' d Body doth retreat 
 VV ^0 its fir ft Matter^ and the Formal B 
 triumphant fits in Judgment to approve 
 Pieces above our Cenfure, and our Love ; 
 
 by our ancient Poets, they miftook this Run of the Verfes into each other 
 after the Manner of Virgil, Homer, &:c. for a Fault, which depriv'd our 
 Rhime of that Grandeur and Dignity of Numbers which arifea from a 
 perpetual change of Paufcs, and tarn'd whole Poems into Dillichs^ 
 
 1 6 The firft four Lines of this Copy of Verfes, I own, are quite 
 above my Comprehenfion. What formal Heat can mean, and Heat 
 fitting in Judgment, is a Riddle too intricate for me to guefs at. Then, 
 why any Piece fhould be above our Candour, I am equally at a lofs to 
 underiland. If thefe Verfes are printed among Sir Afon Cokaine'i 
 Poems, they may, perhaps, Hand in a more intelligible Plight. But, 
 as I never met with that Gentleman's Writings, I'll venture to fubjoio 
 my Sufpicion how the Text might have originally flood. 
 
 Whilf his luell-orgaffd Body is retir'd 
 
 To its firji Matter, and the formal Herd 
 
 Triumphant fts in Judgment, to appro've 
 
 Pieces above our Cenfure, and our Love; 
 The formal Herd I would interpret to be the Croud of Fanatics, thaC 
 fwarm'd at the Time of the firil Publication of Beaumont's and Fletcher*. 
 Works. Then, as to the Correftion in the fourth Line, it gives an 
 Antithefis that makes good Senfe ; whereas Candour and Love are merely 
 Tautology. An excellent Work may, with Rcafon, be faid to be a» 
 much above Cenfure, as it is above our Admiration and Praifes. The 
 Word approve, I conceive, is to be taken in an equivocal Senfc ; nor, 
 direftly, to commend; but to fee whether the Piece, under Judgment, 
 will ftand the Teft of being approved. Mr. Thethald. 
 
 This Note of Mr. Theobald\ is ingenious ; but there are great Liber- 
 ties taken, and the Senfe is, I believe, made totally different from the 
 true one, which at beft is very obfcure. Formal Heat, I take to be 
 a metaphyfical and logical Term for the Soul, as the Formal Caufe i» 
 that which conftitutes the Eflcnce of any thing. Fletchers Soul there- 
 fore now fits in Judgment, to approve Works deferving of Praife Ai 
 tQ Cenfure for Candtur, it is certamly a very probable Conjeflure, 
 
 Sucb^ 
 
Such, as dare boldly venture to appear 
 Unto the curious Eye, and Critic Ear : 
 Lo, the Mad Lover in thefe various Times 
 Is prefsd to Life, facciife us of our Crimes, 
 While Fletcher liv'd, who equal to him ivrit 
 Such lafling Monuments of natural Wit"^ 
 Others might draw their Lines with Sweat, like thofe 
 That [with much Pains) a Garrifon inclofe ; 
 Whilfi his fweet, fluent. Vein did gently run. 
 As imcontrol'd and fmoothly as the Sun. 
 After his Death, our Theatres did make 
 Him in his own unequal Language f peak : 
 ,And now, when all the Mufes out of their 
 Approved Modefty flent appear. 
 This Flay of Fletcher'i braves the envious Light, 
 As Wonder of our Ears once, now our Sight, 
 Three- and fourfold-hlcjl Poet, who the Lives 
 Of Poets, and of Theatres, furvives ! 
 A Groom, or OJiler offome Wit, 7nay bring 
 His Pegalus to the Caftalian Spring ; 
 Boajl, he a Race o'er the Pharfalian Plain, 
 Or happy Tempe'i Valley, dares maintain : 
 Brag, at one Leap, upon the double Cliffe 
 (Were it as high as mo7i/lrous TenarifFe) 
 Of far-renown' d ParnalTus he will get. 
 And there (f amaze the World ) confirm his Seat : 
 When our admired Fletcher vaunts not Aught^ 
 And flighted every thifig he writ as Naught : 
 While all our Englifli wondring World (in's Caufe) 
 Made this great City echo with Applaife, 
 Read him, therefore, all that can read ; and thofe y 
 That camiot, learn ; if fare not Learnings Foes ; 
 And wilfully refohed to refife 
 The gentle Raptures of this happy Muft^ 
 
 From 
 
[5t ] 
 
 From thy great Conflcllation [nohJe Soul) 
 
 Look on this Kingdom -, Juffer not the whole 
 
 Spirit of Poefy retire to Heaven ; 
 
 But make us entertain what thou hajl given. 
 
 Earthquakes and T'hunder "Diapajons make ; 
 
 ^he Seas vafi Roar^ and irrejtjilefs Shake 
 
 Of horrid Winds y a Sympathy compofe ; 
 
 So in thefe things there's Miifck in the Clofe : 
 
 And though they feem great Dif cords in our Ears, 
 
 *They are not fo to them above the Spheres. 
 
 Granting thefe Muficky how muchfweeter's That 
 
 Mnemofync'j Daughters' Voices do create f 
 
 Since Heavn^ and Earth, and Seas, and Air c$nfent 
 
 To make an Harmony, (the Inflrument, 
 
 Their own agreeiiigf elves) fjall we refufe 
 
 The Mufick which the Deities do ufe ? 
 
 Troy'j raviJJjf Ganymede dothfng to Jove, 
 
 And Phoebus f elf plays on his Lyre Above, 
 
 The Cretan Gods, or glorious Men, who will 
 
 Imitate right, mufl wonder at thy Skill ; 
 
 Befl Poet of thy Times! or they will prove 
 
 As mad, as thy brave Memnon was with Love. 
 
 *7 AftonCokaine, BarL 
 
 ♦7 Jjitn Cokaint, Bart.J This Gentleman who claim'd being made 
 a Baronet by King Charles I. at 4 Time when the King's Diftrefs pre- 
 vented the Creation pafling the due Forms, was a Poet of fome Repute, 
 for which Reafon this Copy is inferted more than for its intrinfic Worth. 
 He was Lord of the Manors of Pooley in Polefworth Parilh, Warwick- 
 /hire, and of jifishurn in Derhyjhhe ; but with a Fate not uncommon to 
 Wits, fpent and fold both ; but liis Defccndants of this Age have bcca 
 and are Perlon* of diftinguiih'd Merit and Fortune, 
 
 On 
 
f 52 J 
 
 On the Edition of Mr. Francis Beaumont's 
 
 and Mr. John Fletchir's Plays 
 
 never printed before. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 T Am amaz'd -, and this fame Extafy 
 
 -■•Is both my Glory and Apology. 
 
 ^oher Joys are dull Pajions -, they mufl bear* 
 
 Proportion to the Subje^l : '\ifo^ where 
 
 Beaumont and Fletcher fhail vouchfafe to be 
 
 ne Subjea, That Joy muft be Extafy. 
 
 Fury is the Complexion of great Wits -, 
 
 The Fool's Dijlemper : He, that's Mad by Fits^ 
 
 Is wife Jo too. It is the Foefs Mufe -, 
 
 The Prophet's God-, the Fool's, and my Excufe, 
 
 For (in Me) nothing lefs than Fletcher's Name 
 
 Could have begot, or Ju/lijy'd, this Flame, 
 
 j^z/^z n L^gfi^j.j2'd! methinks, it fhould not be: 
 
 No, not in's Works -, Plays are as Dead as He, 
 The Palate of this Age gafts nothing High ; 
 That has not Cujiard in't, or Bawdery. 
 Folly and Madnefs fill the aS/^^^ : The .Sr^;?^ 
 Is Athens -, where, the Guilty, and the Mean, 
 The F(3o/ T^"^/*^ well enough j Learned and Great y 
 Suffer an OJiracifm ; fland exulate. 
 
 Mankind \%faVCn again, firunk a Degree^ 
 A Step below his very Apojiacy, 
 Nature her aS^"^ is out of "^Fune ; and *S/V^ 
 Of Tumult and Diforder, Lunatick. 
 Yet 'ze^i'^/ World would not cheerfully endure 
 The Torture y or Dijeafe, t* ^^'0^ the G/r^ F 
 
[53 ] 
 
 ^his Book's the Balfam^ and the HelleborCy 
 Muft preferve bleeding Nature^ and reftore 
 Our crazy Stupor to 2ijuji quick Se?tfe 
 Both of Ingratitude^ and Providence, 
 That teaches us (at Once) iofeele and i«£?w, 
 Tu'o deep Points : What we Wa?it, and what we Owe, 
 Yet Great Goods have their Ills : Should we tranfmit. 
 To future Times ^ the Pow'r of Love and /F/V, 
 In this Example : would they not combine. 
 To make Our ImperfeBions Their Dejign ? 
 Thty' djiudy our Corruptions ; and take more 
 Care to be 7//, than to be Good, before. 
 For not hi fig, but fo great hijinnity. 
 Could make Them worthy of fuch Remedy, 
 
 Have you 7iotfeen the Sun's almighty Ray 
 Refcue th' affrighted World, and redeem Day 
 From black Defpair ? how his viBorious Beam 
 Scatters the Storm, and drow7is the petty Flame 
 Of Lightnitig, in the G/sry of his Eye : 
 Hovf full of Pow'r, J[\Q\v fidl of Majejiy ? 
 When, to us Mortals, 7iothing elfe was known ^ 
 But xhtfad Doubt, whether to burn, or drown. 
 
 Choler, and Phlegme, Heat, and ^^^// Ignorance^ 
 Have caft //6^ People \nio fuch a Trance, 
 That jF(?^ri and Da?iger feem Great equally. 
 And no Difpute left now, but Z?ow to ^/>. 
 Juft in //)/i ;^/V/^, Fletchery^^i /Z^f World clear 
 Of all Diforder, and reforms us here. 
 
 The formal Touth, that knew no other Grace, 
 Or ^<?/z^f, but his T///^, and his Lace, 
 Glaffcs himfelf: and, in this faithful Mirror ^ 
 Views, dif approves, reforms, repents his Error. 
 
 The credulous, bright Girl, that believes all 
 Language, in Otf//;; (if ^&5^) CMnofiical^ 
 
 Vol. I. i Is 
 
[54] 
 
 hforfiffdy and taught ^ here, to beware 
 
 Of ev'ry fpecious Bait, of ev'ry Snare 
 
 Save o?2e j and that fame Caution takes her W(7/-^, 
 
 Than all the Flattery (htfelt before. 
 
 She finds her Boxes, and her Thoughts betrafd 
 
 By the Corruption of the Chamber-Maid j 
 
 7'i'^'w throws her Wafies and Dijfemblings by ; 
 
 And 'uowj nothing but Ingenuity, 
 
 The fever e Statefjnan quits Uisfullen Form 
 Of Gravity and Bus'nejs j The Lukewarm 
 Religious, his Neutrality ; The ^o^ 
 Brainjick Illuminate, his Z^^/ ; The 6'(?/, 
 Stupidity ; The Soldier, his Arrears ; 
 The Court, its Confidence j The PZ?3j, their iv^n ; 
 Gallants, their Apijhnefs and Perjury ; 
 Women, their Pleafure and Inconjiancy ; 
 P(?^/j, their /F/«^ j the Ufurer, his P^^s 
 The Worlds its Vanity ^ and /, my 5^^ 
 
 ^^ Roger L'Eftrangc. 
 
 On the E D I T I O N. 
 XXII. 
 
 F Letcher [yohofe Fame no Age can ever wajie ; 
 jE?ZTi^ of ours, and Glory of the lafi) 
 Is now alive again ; <2«<^ w/VZ' /6/j Name 
 His f acred Ajhes wak'd into a Flame ; 
 /Sz^cA ^5 before, did by a fecret Charm 
 ^he wildeji Heart fubdue, the coldejl warm ; 
 
 4 8 For the fame Reafon that Sir ^(7« Cockain^ Poem is reprinted. 
 Sir /?o^?r U Ejlrangis keeps its Place. His Name is well known to 
 the learned World, but this Copy of Verfes does no great Honour either 
 CO himfelf or our Authors, 
 
 Atid 
 
[55] 
 
 j^nd lend the Ladies' Eyes a Power ??Jore bright^ 
 Difpenfwg thus to either. Heat and Light, 
 
 He to a Sympathy thofe Souls betrayed. 
 Whom Love, or Beauty, never could perfwade ; 
 And in each ??wv'd SpeBator could beget 
 A real Pajjion by a Cou?iterfeit : 
 When fr'Ji Bellario bled, what Lady there 
 Did not for every Drop let fall a Tear f 
 And when Afpafia wept, not a?iy Eye 
 But feem'd to wear the fame fad Livery ; 
 By him infpird, the feign d Lucina drew 
 More Streams of inciting Sorrow than the true ; 
 But then the Scornful Lady did beguile 
 Their eafy Griefs, and teach them all tofmile. 
 
 Thus he AffeBions could, or raij'e, or lay ; 
 Love, Grief, and Mirth, thus did his Charms obey j 
 He 'Nature taught her PaJJions to out-do, 
 Hoiv to refine the old, and create new ; 
 Which fuch a happy Likenefs feem'd to bear. 
 As if that Nature Art, Art Nature were, 
 
 I'et all had nothing been, obfcurely kept 
 In the fame Urn wherein his Dufi hathjlepf-. 
 Nor had he ris' the Delphic Wreath to claim. 
 Had 7jot the dying Scene expired his Name ; 
 Defpair our Joy hath doubled, he is come ; 
 Thrice welcome by this Poft-liminiuni. / 
 
 His Lofs preferv'd hitn ; They, that file nc'd Wit, 
 Are now the Authors to Eternize it ; 
 
 Thus Poets are infpight of Fate revived. 
 
 And Plays by Intermijjion longer-liv' d. 
 
 ^9 Tho. Stanley. 
 
 ♦ 9 Mr. Stanley educated at Pemhroke-Hall, Cambridge, was a Poet of 
 fome Eminence, and his Verfcs have Merit j and contain a Proof cf 
 what is afferted in the Preface, of Plays being kept unpublifh'd for the 
 Benefit of the Players. 
 
 i 2 To 
 
[56] 
 
 To the Memory of the Deceafed but Ever-living 
 Author,inthefehisPoems, Mr. John Fletcher. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 /^ N the large T^rain of Fletcher'i Frie?ids let me 
 
 ^^ (Retaining Jim my wonted ModcJt\\) 
 
 Become a Writer^ in my ragged Verje^ 
 
 As Follower to the Mufes Followers. 
 
 Many here are of Noble Rank a?2d JForth, 
 
 ^hat have, by Jlrength of Art, fet YXtX-oh^x forth 
 
 In true and lively Colours, as they f aw him^ 
 
 And had the befi Abilities to draw him j 
 
 Many more are abroad, that write, and look 
 
 To have their Lines fet before Fletcher^ Book ; 
 
 Some, that have known him too ; fome more,fome lefs ; 
 
 Some only but by Hear-fay, fome by Guefs j 
 
 And fome for Fajhion-fake would take the Hint, 
 
 U'o try how well their Wit willfiew in Print, 
 
 Tou, that are here before me. Gentlemen, 
 
 And Princes of ParnalTus by the Pen, 
 
 A?id your juji fudgments of his Worth, that havi 
 
 Preferv'd this Author'^ Mem' ry from the Grave, 
 
 And made it glorious -, let me, at your Gate, 
 
 Porter it here, 'gainji thofe that come too late. 
 
 And are unfit to enter. Something I 
 
 Will deferve here : For, where you verfify 
 
 In flowing Nu?nbers, lawful Weight, and T'ime, 
 
 Til write, though not rich Verfes, honefl Rhime, 
 
 I am admitted. Now, have at the Rout 
 
 Of thofe that would crowd in, but muft keep out. 
 
 Bear back, my Maflers j Pray, keep back ; Forbear : 
 
 l^ou cannot, at this time, have Entrance here, 
 
 ^ Ton, 
 
[57 ] 
 
 TbUy that are worthy, may, by InterccJ/ion, 
 
 Find Entertainment at the next ImpreJJion. 
 
 But let none then attempt it, that not know 
 
 Tihe Reverence due, which to this Shrine they owe : 
 
 Allfuch inufi be excluded ; and the Sort, 
 
 ^hat only upon Truji, or by Report, 
 
 Have taken Fletcher up, and think it trim 
 
 T'o have their Verfes planted before Him : 
 
 Let them read jirjl his Works, and learn to know him ; 
 
 And offer, then, the Sacrifice they owe him. 
 
 But far from hence be fuch, as would proclaim 
 
 Their Kjiowledge of this Author, not his Fame -, 
 
 And fuch, as would pretend, of all the refi, 
 
 To be the befi Wits that have known him beji. 
 
 Depart hence all fuch Writers j and, before 
 
 Inferior ones thrufl in, by many a Score -, 
 
 As formerly, before Tom Coryate, 
 
 Whofe Work, before his Praifers, had the Fate 
 
 To per if:) : for the witty Copies took 
 
 Of his Encomiums made themfelves a Book. 
 
 Here's no fuch SuhjeEl for you to out-do, 
 
 Out-fJAne, out -live, (though well you may do too 
 
 In other Spheres:) for Flcichc fsfiourijhing Bays 
 
 Mufi never fade, while Phoebus wears his Rays. 
 
 Therefore forbear to prefs upon him thus. 
 
 Why, what are you, {cry fome) that prate to us f 
 
 Do not we know you for afiajljy Meteor ? 
 
 AndfiN [at beji) the Mufes' Serving-Creature ? 
 
 Do you comptrole ? T' have had your feer : Sirs, no j 
 
 But, ill. an humble manner, let you know. 
 
 Old Serving-Creatures ofte?ttimes are fit 
 
 T' i?ifor?n you?jg Maficrs, as in Land, in Wit, 
 
 What they inherit ; and how well their Dads 
 
 Left one, and wijlod the other, to their Lads, 
 
 i 3 And 
 
[58 ] 
 
 And from departed Poets I can guefs 
 
 Who has a greater Jhare of Wit^ who lefs, 
 
 'Way Fool, another fays. * /, let him rail, i. c. Ay, 
 
 And 'bout his own Ears flour tjh his Wit-Flail, 
 
 ^fill with his Swifigle he his Noddle break -, 
 
 While this of Fletcher, and his Works, I fpeak : 
 
 His Works? (jays'Nlomus) nay, his Fhys, you'd fay : 
 
 ^hou hafi faid right, for that to him was Play 
 
 Which was to others' Brains a Toil : with eafe 
 
 He plafd on Waves, which were Their troubled Seas, 
 
 His nimble Births have longer liv*d than theirs 
 
 That have, with ftrongefi Labour, divers Yean 
 
 Eeenfefiding forth the Ifjues of their Brains 
 
 Vpon the Stage -, and fhall, to th* Stationer'^ Gains^ 
 
 Life after Life take, till fome After -Age 
 
 Shall put down Printing, as this doth the Stage; 
 
 Which 7iothij2g 7iow prefents unto the Eye, 
 
 But in Dumb-fhews her own fad Tragedy. 
 
 ^ Would, there had bee?i no f adder Works abroad. 
 
 Since her Decay, a£ied in Fields of Blood ! 
 
 But to the Man again, of whom we write. 
 The Writer that made Writing his Delight, 
 Rather than Work. He did not pump, nor drudge. 
 To beget Wit, or manage it ; nor trudge 
 To Wit -Conventions with Note-Book, to glean. 
 Or fieal, fome Jejis tofoijl into a Scene : 
 He J corn' d thofe Shifts. Tou, that have known him^ 
 
 know 
 The common Talk, that from his Lips did flow. 
 And run at wafle, did favour more of Wit, 
 Than any of his Time, orfince, have writ 
 (But few excepted) in the Stage's way : 
 His Scenes were Ads, and every Ad a Play. 
 
r 59 ] 
 
 I knew him in his Strength ; even then^ when He, 
 
 That was the 5° Majier of his Art and Me, 
 
 Mojl knowirig Jonfon [proud to call him Son) 
 
 In friendly Envy [wore. He had out-done 
 
 His very .Self. / knew him, till he died ; 
 
 And, at his Difolution, what a Tide 
 
 Of Sorrow overwhelmed the Stage ; which gave 
 
 Vollies of Sighs to fend him to his Grave, 
 
 And grew DiJlraBcd in mojl violent Fits, 
 
 For 8he had loft the beft part of her Wits. 
 
 In thefirjl Tear, our famous Fletcher fell. 
 
 Of good King Charles, who grac'd thefe Poems well^ 
 
 Being then in Life of Action : But they dfd, 
 
 Smce the King's Ab fence -, or were laid afide^ 
 
 As is their Poet. Now, at the Report 
 
 Of the YSx\^ s fecond Coming to his Court, 
 
 The Books creep from the Prefs to Life, not Adlion ; 
 
 Crying unto the World, that no Protraction 
 
 May hinder Sacred Majefty to give 
 
 Fletcher, in them. Leave on the Stage to live. 
 
 Others may more in lofty Verfes move ; 
 
 I only t thus, exprefs my Truth and Love, 
 
 Richard Brome. 
 
 *• —Mafler of his Art and Me,"] Mr. Richard Brome was many 
 Years a Servant to Ben Jon/on, ( an Amanuenfis, I prefume ; ) and 
 learn'd the Art of writing Comedy under him, Upon this, Ben com- 
 pliments him in a ihort Poem prefix'd to Brome\ Northern La/s. 
 
 J had you for a Serfvant, once Dick Brome, 
 
 And you perform" d a Servant's faithful Parts i 
 
 Noiv you are got into a nearer Room 
 
 Of Fellanxfhxp, profeffing my old Arts, Sec. Mr. Theoha/d. 
 
 i 4 Upon 
 
[6o] 
 
 Upon the Printing of Mr. John Fletcher 's 
 Wo R K s. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 WHat means this numerous Guard? or do we come 
 To file our Names y or Verfe^ upon the Tomb 
 O/" Fletcher, and, by boldly making known 
 His Wit J betray the Nothing of our Own ? 
 For, if we grant him dead, it is as true 
 Againfi ourfeheSy No Wit, no Poet now ; 
 Or if he be returned from his cool Shade ^ 
 fTo uSy this Book his RefurreBiofi' s made -, 
 We bleed ourfehes to Death, and but contrive 
 By our own Epitaphs to /hew him alive. 
 But let him live ! and let me prophefy. 
 As I go Swan-like out, our Peace is nigh ; 
 A Balm unto the wounded Age I ftng ; 
 And nothing now is wanting, but the King. 
 
 5» Ja. Shirley. 
 
 s« Mt. Bhirley ^z.% Publilher of the firfl Folio Edition in 1647. 
 
 A N 
 
S^' 
 
 Introduction to the Preface 
 of the Edition of 171 1. 
 
 By J. S TM P S ON. 
 
 I S really furprlfing that all we know of 
 two fuch Illuftrious Authors as Mr. 
 Beaumofit and Mr. Fletcher were is,That 
 we know nothing. The Compofer of 
 the following Preface, and Editor of 
 their Works in 17 11, calls it Ati Account of the 
 LiveSy Sec. of his Authors. But he greatly mi/calls 
 it, for that they were born in fuch a Year, and dy'd 
 in fuch a one, is all he has given us of their Hiftory 
 and Adions ; and by what I can find, had they 
 never wrote a Comedy, we fhould not have known, 
 but upon Mr. Shirley s Word, that in Converfation 
 they ever had talked one. 
 
 Our Authors, 'tis true, take up Articles in two Dic- 
 tionaries, but thefe contain little more than Remarks 
 on their Dramatic Performances. Believing therefore 
 that the no Account^ of the following Preface, contains 
 2.% good an Account oi our Authors as any can be given, 
 I fubmit it to the Reader pure and unmix'd, as it 
 came out of the Editor's Hands, without any Altera- 
 tion or Interpolation at all, only ftriking out a long 
 Quotation from a very imperfect Anfwer of Mr. 
 
 Dryden'% 
 
 J 
 
[62] 
 
 Dryden'i to the Objecflions made againfl Shake/pear 
 and our Authors by Mr. Rhymer. 
 
 But their Drajnatic is no better known than their 
 Civil Hijlory ; I mean, what Part each faftain'd in 
 their Poetical Capacities. Did Beaumont plan, and 
 Fletcher raife the Superftrudlure ? Then 'tis no 
 wonder the Work ftiould be all of a Piece. 
 
 But if each fuftain'd both Charadters (as I think 
 is fo plain as not to be doubted) *tis fl:range there 
 fliould appear no greater diveriity in their Writings, 
 when the feparate Parts came to be put together. 
 
 For, unlefs I be greatly miftaken, we can't fay 
 that here one laid down the Pencil, and there the 
 other took it up, no more than we can fay of any 
 two contiguous Colours in the Rainbow, here this 
 ends and there that begins, fo fine is the Tranfition, 
 that 
 
 SpeBantia Lumina fallit^ 
 
 TJfque adeo quod tangit idem eji.- 
 
 Mr. Seward will lay before the Reader what in- 
 ternal Evidence he thinks he has difcover'd of a 
 difliindlion of their Hands ; but in general Beaumont's 
 Accuracy, and Fletcher's Wit, are fo undiftinguifh- 
 able, that were we not fure, to a Demon ftration, 
 that the Mafque was the former's, and the Shep- 
 berdefs the latter's fole Produdion, they might each 
 have pafTed for the concurrent Labour of both, or 
 have changed Hands, and the laft been taken for 
 Beaumonf^ and iht former for Fletcher's. 
 
 And where is the Wonder, that Fletcher's Works, 
 which he wrote fingly after Beaumo}jt'sDt2ii\\., {hou'd 
 carry the fame Strength, Wit, Manner, and Spirit 
 in them, fo as not to be difcern'd from what both 
 
 wrote 
 
[63] 
 
 wrote in Conjunftion, when as Sir J. Berkenhead 
 tells us, 
 
 Beaumont dfd : yet left hi Legacy 
 His Rules ajid Stafidard-wit (Fletcher) to thee ; 
 Still the fame Plajiet^ though not fill dfo foofi, 
 A T^wO'horfi'd Crefcent then^ now one Full-Moon. 
 Joint Love before^ now Honour doth provoke 5 
 So th' old Twin-Giants forcing a huge Oaky 
 One Jlifd his footings th* other fees him f ally 
 Graff d the whole Tree andfmgle held up all. 
 
 And fince I have quoted one poetical Authority, 
 let me give another (with a little variation) from the 
 Immortal Spenfer, which may farther illuftrate, if 
 not confirm our Opinion. The Poet fpeaking of 
 Friamond, after he had dy'd by CambelH Hand in 
 fingle Combat, fays 
 
 His weary Ghojl ajfoyl'd from flefhly band 
 
 Did not ^ as others wont, dire5lly fly 
 
 Unto her reft in Pluto'i griefly Landy 
 
 Ne into Air did vanifi prefently, 
 
 Ne chaunged was into a Star in Sky, 
 
 But by tradudfiofi was eftfoon derived 
 
 Into his other Brother that furviv'd, 
 
 In who?n he liv*d anew, of former Life deprived. 
 
 \ 
 
 The Application of thefe Lines to our Authors, 
 is fo eafy that no Reader can jnifs it, and the Reafon 
 given for the Samenefs of Manner, Spirit, &c. in 
 their joint and /i?igle Performances, fo clear for a 
 poetical One, that no one can difpute it. 
 
 And 
 
[64] 
 
 And as to external Evidence, tho* we have enough 
 of it, 'tis fo little to be depended on, that it has no 
 Weight with me, whatever it may have with the 
 intelligent Reader. The Teftimony of the Ver- 
 fifiers, before our Authors Works, is fo extravagant 
 on the one Side or on the other, that if we truft this 
 Panegyrift, Fletcher was the fole Author, if that 
 Beaumont wrote alone, and if a third, the whole was 
 the united Work and Labour of both. 
 
 The Printers of the ^arto Editions are no more 
 Concordant; for in different Years and Editions, 
 you have fometimes Beaumonfs and Fletcher's Name, 
 and fometimes the Latter's fingly before the fame 
 Play. 
 
 The Prologue and Epilogue Writers may perhaps 
 be more depended upon, but they don't go quite 
 through with their Work ; for neither the ^arto 
 Copies, nor the Thirty- four Plays in the 1647 
 Edition, have all their full quotas of Head and Tail- 
 Pieces i and of thefe we have, there are few that 
 fpeak out, and tell us from whofe Labours, their 
 Audiences were to expeft either Pleafure or In- 
 ftruftion. 
 
 However this Evidence, fuch as it is, I fhall lay 
 before the Reader, by way of Notes to the Alpha- 
 betical Account of our Authors Pieces (as drawn up 
 by Dr. Langbaijie) towards the concluiion of the 
 following Preface ; and leave it to his Judgment to 
 determine, how far upon fuch Teftimony, the Au- 
 thors were fingly or jointly concern'd ; only I mull 
 give this Caution, that where the Prologue mentions 
 Poet, or Author in the Singular, there I fuppofe 
 Fletcher is only defigned, where in the Plural, Beau- 
 jnont is included. 
 
 PREFACE, 
 
P R E F A C E, 
 
 ( to the Edition of lyn) 
 
 GIVING 
 
 Some Account of the Authors 
 and their Writings. 
 
 ^^Ranch Beaumont^ Efq; was defcended 
 from the ancient Family of that Name, 
 at Gracedieu in LeiceJle?'jJjire, and Brother 
 to Sir Henry Beaumont^ Knight, of the 
 fame Place j his Grandfather was John Beaiimo?it^ 
 Mafler of the Rolls -, and his Father Francis Beau^ 
 mo?ity Judge of the Common Pleas, who married 
 Anne Daughter of George Pierrepont of Home- 
 Fierrepont, Nottinghampire. He was Educated at 
 Cambridge, and after at the Inner-Te??iplc, He died 
 before he was 30 Years of Age, and was buried the 
 9th of March 1615, at the Entrance into St. Be- 
 nedi^'s Chapel in Wejimifijler- Abbey. He left one 
 Daughter behind him, Mrs. Frances Beaumont , who 
 died in Leicefterjhire fince the Year 1 700 : She had 
 been poflefled of feveral Poems of her Father's 
 Writing, but they were loft at Sea coming from 
 Ireland^ where flie had fometime lived in tiie Duke 
 
 of 
 
u PREFACE. 
 
 of Ormond'% Family. There was publilh'd, after 
 our Author's Death, a fmall Book containing feveral 
 Poems under his Name, and among them the Story 
 of Salmacis from the Metamorphofes of Ovid ; and 
 a Tranflation of the Remedy of Love, from the fame 
 Author. The Poem of Bofworth Field, which has 
 been univerfally efteem'd, was written by his Bro- 
 ther yohn Beaumont. 
 
 'John Fletcher, Efq; (Son of Dr. Richard Fletcher, 
 who was created by Queen Elizabeth Bifliop of 
 Brijiolj and after removed to JVorceJler, and from 
 thence, in the Year 1593, to London,) was Educated 
 at Cambridge, and probably at Bennet College, to 
 which his Father was by his Will a Benefador. He 
 died of the Plague in the firft Year of the Reign of 
 King Charles the Firft, and was buried in St. Mary 
 Overy\ Church in Southwark, Auguft the 19th, 
 1625, in the 49th Year of his Age. 
 
 Several of their Plays were Printed in Quarto 
 while the Authors were living ; and in the ^^ Year 
 1645 (Twenty Years after the Death of Fletcher ^ 
 and Thirty after that of Beaumont) there was Pub- 
 lifh'd in Folio a Colledion of fuch of their Plays as 
 had not before been Printed, amounting to between 
 thirty and forty. At the beginning of this Volume 
 are inferted a great many Commendatory Verfes, 
 written in Praife of the Authors by Perfons of their 
 Acquaintance, and the moft Eminent of that Age 
 for Wit and Quality. This Colledlion was Publifhed 
 by Mr. Shirley after the fhutting up of the Theatres, 
 and Dedicated to the Earl of Pembroke by Ten of 
 the moft famous Adors, who profefs to have taken 
 
 s* A/o/^/(fv's Preface to the Reader bears date Fihruary 14, 1646. 
 But the Title Page rur.s for 1647. 
 
 great 
 
PRE FA C E. iii 
 
 great Care in the Edition ; they lament their not 
 being able to procure any Pidure of Mr. Beaumont, 
 from which to take his Effigies, as they had done 
 that of Mr. Fletcher: But, through the favour of 
 the prefent Earl of Dorfet, that is now fupplied, 
 the Head of Mr. Beaumont, and that of Mr. Fletcher, 
 being taken from Originals in the noble Colledion 
 his Lordfhip has at Knowles, 
 
 In the Year 1679, there was an Edition in Folio 
 of all their Plays Publifh'd, containing thofe for- 
 merly Printed in Quarto, and thofe in the before- 
 mentioned Folio Edition. Several of the Commen- 
 datory Verfes are left out before that Impreffion ; 
 (many of them relating to Particulars of the Au- 
 thors, or their Plays,) but they are all prefix'd to 
 this, and a large Omiffion of part of the lafl Ad of 
 The Tragedy of Thlcny and Theodoret, is fupply'd 
 in this. 
 
 The frequent and great Audiences that feveral of 
 their Plays continue to bring, fufficiently declares 
 the Value this Age has for them is equal to that of 
 the former j and three fuch extraordinary Writers 
 as Mr. Waller, the Duke of Buckirigham, and 'Jchn 
 late Earl of Rochefler^ feleding each of them one of 
 their Plays to alter for the Stage, adds not a little 
 to their Reputation. 
 
 53 The Maids Tragedy was very frequently Aded 
 after the Refloration, and with the greateft Ap- 
 
 5 ^ As our Authors were planning one of their Plays {this inoji 
 probably) in a Tavern, Mr. Fletcher was over-heard, by feme of the 
 Houfe, to fay. Til undertake to Kill the King. Words in appearance 
 fo treafonable as thefe were, cou'd not long be kept conceal'd, and the 
 Difcovcry of 'em had like to have coft our Poet dear : But it being de- 
 monllratcd that this Defign was only againft the Perfon of a Sccnical 
 Sovereign, our Author was freed from any farther Trouble, and the 
 intended Procefs entirely dropt. fide Winjlauleji Englijh Poets. 
 
 plaufe ; 
 
iv PREFACE. 
 
 pkufe ; Mr. Hart playing Amintor, Major MohuUt 
 Melantius, and Mrs. Marjhal, Evadne^ equal to any 
 other Parts for which they were defcrvedly famous. 
 But the latter End of that Play, where the King 
 was kill'd, making it upon fome particular Occafion 
 not thought proper to be farther reprefented, it was 
 by private Order from Court iilenc'd. This was the 
 Reafon Mr. Waller undertook the altering the latter 
 part of that Play, as it is now printed in the lafl 
 
 Edition of his Works Upon which Alteration, 
 
 this following Remark was made by an Eminent 
 Hand. 
 
 // is not to be doubted who fat for the two Bro- 
 thers CharaBers. 'Twas agreeable to Mr, Waller 'j 
 temper to /often the Rigour of the Tragedy^ as he 
 exprefjes it j but whether it be agreeable to the Na- 
 ture of I'ragedy itfelf to make every thing come off 
 eafil% I leave to the Critics. 
 
 The Duke of Buckinghamy fo celebrated for 
 Writing the Rehearfal^ made the two laft Adls of 
 the Chances almoft New. Mr. Hart play'd the 
 Fart of Don John to the highcft Satisfaction of the 
 Audience; the Play had a great Run, and ever fince 
 has been follow'd as one of the bell Entertainments 
 of the Stage. His Grace, after that, beftow'd 
 fome time in altering another Play of our Authors, 
 called Phtlajler^ or Love lies a Bleeding : He made 
 very conliderable Alterations in it, and took it with 
 him, intending to finifli it the laft Journey he made 
 to Yorkjl.nre in the Year 1686. I cannot learn what 
 is become of the Play with his Grace's Alterations, 
 but am very well inform'd it was fince the Revolu- 
 tion in the Hands of Mr. Ncvil Pd\'ne. who was 
 imprifon'dat Edinburgh in the Year 1680. 
 
 The 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 The Alterations in Vakntinian^ by the Earl of 
 RocheJie!\ amount to about a third part of tlic 
 v/hole ; but his Lordfliip died before he had done 
 all he intended to it. It was Aded with very great 
 Applaufe, Mr. Good?nan playing Valentinian^ Mr, 
 Batterton^ Mcius^ and Mrs. Barr)\ Lucijia, My 
 Lord died in the Year 1680, and the Play was aded 
 in the Year 1684, and the fame Year publifli'd by 
 Mr. Robert Woljley, with a Preface, giving a large 
 Account of my Lord, and his Writings. This 
 Play, with the Alterations, is printed at the end of 
 his Lordfliip's Poems in 0(flavo. 
 
 Mr. Dry den ^ in his ElTay of 'Dramatic Poetry^ 
 P^g^ i7> i}"^ ^he firfi: Volume of the Folio Edition 
 of his Works) in a Comparifon of the French and 
 Englifi Comedy, fays, ' As for Comedy, Repartee 
 
 * is one of its chiefeft Graces. The greateft Pleafure 
 
 * of an Audience is a Chafe of Wit kept up on both 
 
 * Sides, and fwiftly manag'd : And this our Fore- 
 
 * fathers (if not we) have had in Fletcher's Plays, 
 
 * to a much higher Degree of Perfedion than the 
 
 * French Poets can arrive at. 
 
 And in the fame EfTay, Page 19, he fays, * Beau- 
 
 * mo?it and Fletcher had, with the Advantage of 
 ' Shakefpear's> Wit, which was their Precedent, great 
 
 * Natural Gifts, improv'd by Study. Beaumont 
 
 * efpecially being fo accurate a Judge of Plays, that 
 
 * Ben yonfon^ while he liv'd, fubmitted all his 
 
 * Writings to his Cenfure, and 'tis thought us'd his 
 
 * Judgment in correcting, if not contriving all his 
 
 * Plots. What Value he had for him appears by 
 ' the Verfes he wrote to him, and therefore I need 
 
 * fpeak no farther of it. The firll: Play that brought 
 ' Fletcher and hira in efteem, was Fhilajler; for 
 
 V o L. I, k * befors 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 before that, they had written two or three very 
 unfuccefsfuUy J as the like is reported of Be?i 
 yonfo?t, before he writ Every Man in his Humour : 
 Their Plots were generally more regular than 
 Shake fpear'?,^ efpecially thofe that were made before 
 Beaumonf^ Death : And they undcrftood and 
 imitated the Converfation of Gentlemen much 
 better; whofe wild Debaucheries, and quicknefs 
 of Wit in Repartees, no Poet can ever paint as 
 they have done. Humour, which Ben 'Jonfon 
 deriv'd from particular Perfons, they made it not 
 their Bufinefs to defcribe ; they reprefented all the 
 Paffions very lively, but above all Love, I am apt 
 to believe the Engli/Jo Language in them arrived 
 to its highefl Perfedion ; what Words have lince 
 been taken in, are rather fuperfluous than ne- 
 cefTary. Their Plays are now the moft pleafant 
 and frequent Entertainments of the Stage, two of 
 theirs being Adted through the Year, for one of 
 Shakejpear'% or yonfon's ; the Reafon is, becaufe 
 there is a certain Gaiety in their Comedies, and 
 Pathos in their more ferious Plays, which fuits 
 generally with all Mens Humour. Shakejpears 
 Language is like wife a little obfolete, and Beti 
 'Jonjon'^ Wit comes fliort of theirs. 
 This EfTay of Mr. Dryden\ was written in the 
 Year 1666. 
 
 Mr. Dry den faid he had been informed, that after 
 Beaumonfs Death, Mr. James Shirly was confulted 
 by Fletcher in the plotting feveral of his Plays. It 
 does feem that Shirly did fupply many that were 
 left imperfecSt, and that the old Players gave fome 
 Remains, or imperfedl Plays of Flet cherts to Shirly 
 to make up : And it is from hence, that in the firft 
 
PREFACE. vii 
 
 A£t of Love's Pilgrmage, there is a Scene of an 
 Oftler, Tranfcribed Verbatim out of Ben Jorifon's 
 New Irniy Acl 3. Scene i. which Play was written 
 long after Fletcher died, and tranfplanted into Love's 
 Pilgrimage after the Printing the New I?m, which 
 was in the Year 1630. And two of the Plays 
 printed under the name of Fletcher^ viz. the Coro- 
 nation^ and The Little Thief, have been claimed by 
 Shirly to be his ; 'tis probable they were left impcr- 
 fedt by one, and finifh'd by the other. 
 
 Mr. Langbaine, in his Account of the Dra^ 
 7natic Poets, printed in the Year 1691, is very par- 
 ticular upon the feveral Plays of our Authors, and 
 therefore I (hall conclude with Tranfcribing from 
 him, page 204. viz. * Mr. Beaumont was a Mafter 
 
 * of a good Wit, and a better Judgment, that Mr. 
 ' yonfon himfelf thought it no Difparagement to fub- 
 ' mit his Writings to his Correction. Mr. Fletcher'^ 
 
 * Wit was equal to Mr. Beau??ionfs Judgment, and 
 
 * was fo luxuriant, that like fuperfluous Branches it 
 ' was frequently prun'd by his judicious Partner. 
 
 * Thefe Poets perfedly underftood Breeding, and 
 
 * therefore fucccfsfuUy copy'd the Converfation of 
 
 * Gentlemen. They knew how to defcribe the 
 
 * Manners of the Age ; and Fletcher had a peculiar 
 
 * Talent in exprefling all his Thoughts with Life and 
 
 * Brisknefs. No Man ever underftood or drew the 
 
 * Paffions more lively than he ; and his witty Rallery 
 
 * was fo deep, that it rather pleas'd than difgufted 
 
 * the modeft part of his Audience. In a word, 
 
 * Fletcher's Fancy and Beaiimonfs Judgment com- 
 
 * bin'd, produc'd fuch Plays, as will remain Monu- 
 
 * ments of their Wit to all Pofterity. Mr. Fletcher 
 
 * himftlf, after Mr. Beaiwionfs Death, compos'd 
 
 k 2 * feveral 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 * feveral Dramatic Pieces, which were worthy the 
 ' Pen of fo great a Mafter.' And this Mr. Cart- 
 wright alludes to, in his Verfes before the Book. 
 
 The following Verfes, put under his Folio Pidture, 
 were written by Sir John Bcrkenhead. 
 
 Felicis trviy ac Prasfulis Natm j coma 
 Beaumontio ; fic^ quippe Parnaffus, Biceps j 
 FLE'TCHERUS unam in Pyramida furcas agens^ 
 Stnixit chorum plus fimplicem Fates Duplex ; 
 Plus Duplicemfolus : nee ullum tranjiulit -, 
 Nee transferendus : Dramatum ^terfii faleSy 
 Anglo Theatro, Orbi, Sibi, fuperjlites. 
 
 FLET^CHERE, fades abfqiie vultu pingitur -, 
 ^antus ! vel umbram circuit nemo tuam. 
 
 There are Fifty-two Plays written by thefe Au- 
 thors, each of which I fhall niention Alphabetically. 
 
 -^ Beggars Bufi, a Comedy. This Play I have 
 feen feveral times adled with Applaufc. 
 
 Bonduca^ a Tragedy. The Plot of this Play is 
 borrow'd from Tacitus' s Annals, Lib. 14. See Mil- 
 ton's Hiftory of Efiglajid, Book 2. Vbaldino deVita 
 delle Don?ie Illujiri del Reg7io d'lnghelterra, & Scotia, 
 pag. 7. &c. 
 
 5 5 Bloody Brother, or Rollo Duke of Normandy, 
 a Tragedy much in requeft ; and notwithftanding 
 Mr. Rymer's Criticifms on it, has ftill the good for- 
 
 J+ Commendatcry Verfes by Gardiner and Hi/fs, attribute this Play 
 to fhtcher. Pulogue and Epilogue none. 
 
 5 5 Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner and H'tlh-, and Quarto of 1 640, 
 attribute this Play t . Fletcher. Crooke, in his Catalogue of our Authors 
 Plays fiibjoin'd to Wit iviilsuf M*n/y 1 66 1, gives it to both. Prologue 
 aod Epilogue none. 
 
 tune 
 
PRE FAC E. ix 
 
 tune to plcafe : It being frequently afled by the 
 prefent Company of A6tors, at the Queen's Play- 
 Houfe in Dorfet-Gardeti. The Defign of this Play 
 is Hiftory : See Herodian, lib. 4. Xiphilini Epif. 
 T>ion. in Vit. Ant. Car ac a lice. Part of the Language 
 is copy'd from Seneca's Thebais, 
 
 5^ Captain^ a Comedy. 
 
 57 Chances y a Comedy, revived by the late Duke 
 of Buckifigham, and very much improved j being 
 aded w^ith extraordinary Applaufe at the Theatre in 
 Dorfet-Gardeny and printed with the Alterations, 
 Loud, \tOy 1682. This Play is built on a Novel 
 written by the famous Spaniard Miguel de Cervantes, 
 call'd T^he Lady Cornelia ; which the Reader may 
 read at large in a Fol. Vol. call'd Six Exemplary 
 Novels, 
 
 5^ Coronation^ a Tragi-comedy. 
 
 53 Coxcomhy a Comedy, which was reviv'd at the 
 Theatre- Royal, the Prologue being fpoken by ^0. 
 Haifis. 
 
 ^^ Cupid's Reve?jge, a Tragedy. 
 
 ^' Cuflom of the Country ^ a Tragi-comedy. This 
 is accounted an excellent Play; the Plot of Rutilio, 
 DuartCy and Guyomary is founded on one of Malc^ 
 fpini's Novels, Deca. 6. Nov. 6. 
 
 f* Commendatory Verfes by Hills and Gardiner, attribute this Play ; 
 to Fletcher. Maine to both. Prologue to one. Epilogue filent. 
 
 5 T Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner to Fletcher. Prologue to one. 
 Epilogue filent. 
 
 ^8 Quarto 1 640, attributes this Play to F^/c^fr. Croo^f/s Catalogue 
 to both. Prologue to one. Epilogue filent. 
 
 f9 Commendatory Verfes hy Gardiner 2.nA Hills, attribute this Play 
 to Fletcher. Prologue to both. Epilogue filent. 
 
 *" Quarto of 1630, 1635, ^^'^ Crooke'% Catalogue, attribute this 
 Play to both. 
 
 ^ ' Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner and Ltojelacr, attribute this 
 Play to Fletcher. Prologue to both. 
 
 k 3 Double 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 ^* Double Marriage, a Tragedy, which has been 
 reviv'd lome Years agoj as I learn from a new Pro- 
 logue printed in Ccocnt-Garden Drollery, p. 14. 
 
 ^3 Elder Brother, a Comedy, which has been 
 afted with good Applaufe. 
 
 ^^ Faithful Shepherdefs, a Pafloral, writ by Mr. 
 Fletcher, and commended by two Copies written by 
 the judicious Beaumont, and the learned 'Jonforiy 
 which are infertcd among the Commendatory Poems 
 at tl'!. beginning of this Edition. When thisPaftoral 
 was firH: adted before their Majefties at Sotnerfet-Houfe 
 on T'ii'eljth-Night, 1 6 '^3, inllead of a Prologue, there 
 was a Song in Dialogue, fung between a Prieft and a 
 Nymph, which was writ by Sir JVilliam D'Ave- 
 najit ; and an Epilogue was fpokcn by the Lady 
 Mary Mordant, which the Reader may read in 
 Covent'Garden Drollery, p. 86. 
 
 ^5 Fair Maid of the Inn, a Tragi-comedy. Marl- 
 ana^ difowning Ccejario for her Son, and the Duke's 
 Injunction to marry him, is related by Caiifin in his 
 Holy Court, and is tranfcrib'd by Wanley in his Hijlory 
 oj Man, Fol. Book 3. Chap. 26. 
 
 ^" Fdlje One, a Tragedy. This Flay is founded 
 on the Adventures of Julius Ccefar in /Egypt, and 
 his Amours with Cleopatra. See Suetofiim, Plutarch^ 
 Dion, Appian, Floras, Eutropius, Orofius, &c. 
 
 Four Plays, or Moral Rcprefcntations in One ; viz, 
 ^he Triumph of Honour j The Triumph of Love ; 
 
 ^ » Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner, attribute this Play to Fletcher. 
 
 *J Commendatory Verfes by Hills, attribute this Play to Fletcher. 
 Qviarto 1651, and Crocked Catalogue, to both. Quarto 1661, and 
 die Diflich to the Reader, to Fletcher. Prologue and Epilogue to one. 
 
 ** Univerfally afcrib'd to Fletcher. 
 
 * ' Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner to Fletcher. 
 
 ^^ Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner to Fletcher. Prologue and 
 Epilogue 10 both. 
 
 The 
 
PREFACE. XX 
 
 ^he Triumph of Death ; The Triumph of Time, I 
 know not whether ever thefe Reprefentations appear'd 
 on the Stage, or no. The Triumph of Honour is 
 founded on Boccace his Novels ^ Day lo. Nov. 5. 
 The Triumph of Love ^ on the fame Author, Day 5'. 
 Nov. 8. The Triumph of Death on a Novel in The 
 Fortimate^ Deceived., and Unfortunate Lovers., P'-^rt 3. 
 Nov. 3. See befides Palace of PleaJ'ure, Nov. 40. 
 Belleforejly &c. The Triumph of Time^ as far as 
 falls within my difcovery, is wholly the Author's 
 Invention, 
 
 ^7 Honeft Man's Fortune., a Tragl-Comedy. As 
 to the Plot of Mojitaigns being prefer'd by Lamira 
 to be her Husband, when he was in Adverfity, and 
 leaft expected : The like Story is related by Hey wood 
 in his Hi/lory of Women ^ Book 9. pag. 641. 
 
 ^^ Humourous Lieutenant ^ a Tragi-Comedy, which 
 I have often feen ad:ed with Applaufe. The Cha- 
 racter of the Humorous Lieutenant refufing to fight 
 after he was cured of his Wounds, refembles the 
 Story of the Soldier belonging to Lucullus defcrib'd 
 in the Epiftles of Horace., lib. 2. Ep. 2. but the 
 very Story is related in Ford's Apothegms ^ p. 30. 
 How near the Poet keeps to the Hirtorian I muft 
 leave to thofe that will compare the PLy with the 
 Writers of tlie Lives of Antigonus and Demetrius^ 
 the Father and the Son. See Plutarch'^ Life ojf 
 Demetrius., Diodorus, Juftin, Appian, Sec. 
 
 ^9 I/land Princcfs, a Tragi-Comedy. This Play 
 about three Years ago was reviv'd with Alterations 
 by Mr. Tate^ being aded at the Theatre- Royal, 
 
 * "^ Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner to Fletcher . 
 *8 Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner^ Hills., and Lovelace, tO 
 Fletcher. Prologue and Epilogue filent. 
 
 ^ 9 Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner to Fletcher, 
 
 k 4 printed 
 
xii PREFACE. 
 
 printed in Quarto Lo?id. 1687, and Dedicated to the 
 Right Honourable Henry Lord Walgrave. 
 
 7° KtJig and no King^ a Tragi-Comedy, which 
 notwithflanding its Errors dilcovcr'd by Mr. Rymer 
 in his Critici/ms, has always been adted with Ap- 
 plaufe, and has lately been reviv'd on our prefent 
 Theatre with lb great Succcfs, that we may juftly 
 fay with Horace^ 
 
 Hcec placuit fcmeJ^ hcec dccies rcpetifa pincebit, 
 
 7^ Kfiight of the burni??g PeftJe^ a Comedy. This 
 Play was in vogue fome Years fince, it being reviv'd 
 by the King's Houfc, and a new Prologue (inftead 
 of the old one in Prole) being fpoken by Mrs. Ellen 
 Gain. The bringing the Citizen and his Wife upon 
 the Stage, was poffibly in imitation of Ben Jonfo?i'^ 
 Staple of Neios^ who has introduc'd on the Stage 
 Four GolTips, Lady-like attir'd, who remain during 
 the whole Adion, and criticife upon each Scene. 
 
 7- Knight of Malta, a Tragi-Comedy. 
 
 Laws of Candy y a Tragi-Comedy. 
 
 73 Little "French Lawyer, a Comedy. The Plot is 
 borrow'd from Gufman, or l^he Spanip Rogue^ 
 Part 2. Chap. 4. The Story ofDijiant, Chimont, and 
 Lamira, being borrow'd from Do7i Dewis de CaJlrOy 
 and Den Rodcrigo de Mont ah a. The like Story is 
 in other Novels ; as in Scarro7i\ Novel, called T^he 
 
 ■'•> Commendatory Verfes by Honi'ard and Herrick to Fletcher* 
 Earh io Beaumont. Quartos 1619, 1631, 1639, '^^i, 1676, and 
 
 Crookth Catalogue, to both. 
 
 "> ' Quarto of 161 3, has no Name In the Title Page, but the Dedi- 
 cation gives it to both ; fo does Crooke\ Catalogue. Quarto of 1635, 
 Title Page gives it to both ; but in the Preface to the Reader 'tis at- 
 tributed only to one. Prologue to one. 
 
 7 1 Commendatory X'erfes by Gardiner to Fletcher. 
 
 7 J Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner, Lo^jelace, and Hills, t» 
 Fletcher. Prologue and Epilogue to be th. 
 
 Friiitlefs 
 
PREFACE. xiii 
 
 Fruitkfs Precautioji ; and in The Complaifant Com^ 
 paniofi, 8vo. p. 263, which is copied from the above- 
 mentioned Original. 
 
 74 Loves Cure, or T'he Martial Maid, a Comedy. 
 
 75 Love's Pilgrimage, a Comedy. This I take to 
 be an admirable Comedy. The Foundation of it is 
 built on a Novel of Miguel de Cervantes, called The 
 Two Damfels. The Scene in the firft A(ft, between 
 Diego the Hoft of Ojfuna, and Lazaro his Oftler, 
 is floln from Ben yonfojis New Inn : which 1 may 
 rather term borrow'd, for that Play mifcarrying ia 
 the Adion, I fuppofe they made ufeof it with Be?i's 
 Confent. 
 
 7^ Lovers Progrefs, a Tragi- Comedy. This Play 
 is built on a French Romance written by M. Dau-*- 
 diguier, call'd Lyfander and Calijla. 
 
 77 Loyal Subje6l, a Tragi- Comedy. 
 
 7^ Mad Lover, a Tragi-Comedy. The Defign 
 of Cleanthe's Suborning the Prieftefs to give a falfe 
 Oracle in favour of her Brother Syphax, is borrow'd 
 from the Story of Mundus and Paulina, defcrib'd at 
 large by Jofephus, Lib. 18. Cap. 4. This Play Sir 
 Afton Cokain has chiefly commended in his Copy of 
 Verfes on Mr. Fletcher's Plays. See the Verfes be- 
 fore this Edition; and Cokain s Poems, pag. 10 r. 
 
 79 Maid in the Mill, a Comedy. This Play, 
 amongfl: others, has likewife been reviv'd by the 
 
 "+ Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner to Fletcher. Prologue to one. 
 Epilogue to both. 
 
 ■ f Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner to Fletcher. Prologue to 
 both. 
 
 ■ ^ Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner to Fletcher. Prologue to one. 
 ■'■' Commendatory Verfes by Hills and Gardiner, to Fletcher. 
 
 prologue to one. 
 
 ■» s Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner, Hills, Lovelace, Hcrrick, 
 to Fletcher. Maine, and Prologue to both. 
 
 ■ 9 Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner and Hills, to Fletcher. 
 
 Duke's 
 
xiv PREFACE. 
 
 Duke's Houfe. The Plot of Antonio^ Ifmenia^ and 
 Aminta^ is borrow'd from Gcrardo^ a Romance 
 tranilated from ihtSpamJJj of Do?i Gonzalode Cefpides, 
 and Moficces j fee the Story of Do?i Jayme, pag. 350. 
 As to the Plot of Otr antes' % feizing Florimel the Mil- 
 ler's fuppofed Daughter, and attempting her Ohaftity : 
 'Tis borrow'd from an Italian Novel writ by Ban- 
 dello ; a Tranflation of which into French^ the Reader 
 may find in Les Hijioires TragiqueSy par M. Belle^ 
 for eft y Tom. i. Hijl. 12. The lame Story is related 
 by M. Goulart j See Les Hiftoires admirables de notre 
 iems, ^vo. Tom. i. p. 212. 
 
 ^° Maids Tragedy, a Play which has always been 
 afted with great Applaufe at the King's Theatre; 
 and which had flill continu'd on the EngliJJ:) Stage, 
 had not King Charles the Second, for fome particular 
 Reafons, forbid its further Appearance during his 
 Reign. It has fince been reviv'd by Mr. IValler, the 
 laft Adt having been wholly alter'd to pleafe the 
 Court : As the Author of the Preface to the fecond 
 Part of his Poems informs us, and gives us further 
 the following Account : * 'Tis not to be doubted, 
 
 * who fat for the Two Brothers Charadters. 'Twas 
 
 * agreeable to the Sweetnefs of Mr. IFaller'sTcmper, 
 
 * to foften the Rigor of the Tragedy, as he exprelTes 
 ' it ; but whether it be agreeable to the Nature of 
 
 * Tragedy itfelf, to make every thing come off eafily, 
 
 * I leave to the Critics.' This laft Ad: is publifh'd 
 in Mr. Waller s Poems, printed in 0(ftavo, Lo?id. 1711. 
 
 ^^ Mafqiie of Grays-Inn Gentlemen, and the Inner 
 Temple. This Mafque was written by Mr. BeaU' 
 
 ' ° Commendatory Verfes by Howard, Stanley^ Hern'ci, and Waller, 
 to fletcher. Bark to Beaumont. Qaarco i6ig, 1622, Anonymous. 
 1630, 1650, and Crooiff's Catalogue, to both, 
 
 * ' Beaumont only, 
 
 mont 
 
PREFACE. XV 
 
 viont alone, and prefcnted before the King and Queen 
 in the Banqueting-Houfe of Whitehall^ at the Mar- 
 riaee of the lUuftrious Frederick and Elizabeth^ 
 Prince and Princefs Falatine of the Rhine. 
 
 ^"^ Mon/ieur l^bomas, a Comedy, which not long 
 fince appear'd on the prefent Stage under the Name 
 of ^rick for Tf'ick, 
 
 ^5 Nice Valour^ or Ihe Pajfionate Mad-man^ a 
 Comedy. 
 
 S4 Night Walker, or I'he Little T:hief, a Comedy, 
 which I have fecn acfled by the King's Servants, with 
 great Applaufe, both in the City and Country. 
 
 ^5 Noble Gentleman, a Comedy which was lately 
 rcviv'd by Mr. Durfey, under the Title of The Fooh 
 Prefert?ie?it, or l^he Ihree Dukes of Dimjlable. 
 
 *^ Philajier, or Love lies a Bleeding : a Tragi- 
 comedy which has always been ad;ed with Succefs ; 
 and has been the diverfion of the Stage, even in thefe 
 Days. This was the firft Play that brought thefe 
 excellent Authors in Efteem ; and this Play was one 
 of thofe that were reprefented at the old Theatre in 
 Lincobis- Lin-Fields, when the Women ad:ed alone. 
 The Prologue and Epilogue were fpoken by Mrs. 
 MarJJjal, and printed in Covent- Garden Drollery, 
 pag. 1 8. About this Time there was a Prologue 
 written on purpofe for the Women by Mr. Dryden, 
 
 8* Quarto 1639, to Fletcher. Croai/s Catalogue to both. 
 
 «5 Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner to Fletcher. Prologue and 
 Epilogue to one. 
 
 84 Quarto 1640, in the Title Page and Dedication, to Fletcher, 
 Crooke'i Catalogue to both. 
 
 * f Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner to Fletcher. Prologue to 
 both. Epilogue filent. 
 
 8 6 Commendatory Verfes by Lovelace^ Stan/eyt Herrick, to Fletcher. 
 Earle to Beaumont. Quarto 1628, 1634, '652, and another Edition 
 without a Date, as well as Crooke'i Catalogue, to both. 
 
 and 
 
xvi PRE FAC E. 
 
 and is printed in his Mifcellany Poems in Odhvoi 
 /. 285. ^ 
 
 ^7 Ptlgrim, a Comedy which was revived fome 
 Years fince, and a Prologue fpoke, which the Reader 
 may find in Covent-Garden Drollery^ p. 12. 
 
 * ^^ Propkefefsy a Tragical Hiftory, which has 
 lately been reviv'd by Mr. Dryden, under the Title 
 oi^he Prophetefs^ or l^he Hiftory of Diociefian, with 
 Alterations and Additions after the manner of an 
 O/d-r^jreprefented at the Queen'sTheatre, and printed 
 Qu2iVio Lond. 1690. For the Plot co\-\(\i\t Eufebius 
 Lib. 8. Nicepborus Lib. 6. and 7. Vopifc. Car. ^ 
 Carin. Aiir. Vi Boris Epitome. Eufropius Lib. 9. 
 Baronius An. 204. &c. Orofiiish. 7. C. 16. CoeJ- 
 feteaii L. 20. ^c. 
 
 ^9 ^een of Corinth, a Tragi-Comedy. 
 
 5° Rule a Wife, and have a Wife, a Tragi-Comedy 
 which within thefe few Years has been adled with 
 Applaufc, at the Queen's Theatre in Dorfet- 
 Garden. 
 
 9' Scornful Lady, a Comedy ad;ed with good 
 Applaufe, even in thefe Times, at the Theatre in 
 Dorfet-Garden. Mr. Dryden has condemned the 
 Conclufion of this Play, in reference to the Conver- 
 fion of Moorcraft the Ufurer j but whether this 
 Cataftrophe be excufable, I muft leave to the 
 Critics. 
 
 9^ Sea Voyage, a Comedy lately reviv'd by Mr. 
 
 « '' Commendatory Verfes by Gard'mer to Fletcher. 
 
 8S Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner and Hills, to Fletcher. 
 
 8 9 Commendatory Verfes by Hills, io Fletcher. 
 
 f" Commendatory Verfes by Hills, and Quarto 16^0, to Fletcher. 
 Crooh\ Catalogue to both. Prologue to one. 
 
 9« Commendatory Verfes by Waller and Stanley, to Fletcher. 
 Quarto 1630, 1639, and Crooke's Catalogue to both. 
 
 9 ^ Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner, to Fletcher, 
 
 Diirfey, 
 
PREFACE. xvii 
 
 Durfey^ under the Title of The Commonwealth of 
 Women. This Play is fuppofed by Mr. Dry den ^ (as 
 I have obferv'd) to be copied from ^hakefpear% 
 Tcwpejl, 
 
 The Storm 'which 'vaniJlSd on the neighboring Shore^ 
 Wai taught by Shakefpear'^ TempeflT^r/? to roar ; 
 That Innocence and Beauty which didfmile 
 In Fletcher, grew on this Enchanted IJle, 
 
 93 Spanijh Curate, a Comedy frequently reviv'd 
 with general Applaufe. The Plot of Don Hen^ 
 riquej jifcanio, Violante, and yacintha, is bor- 
 row'd from Gerardo's Hijlory of Don John, p. 202. 
 and that of Leandro, Bartolus, Amarantha and 
 Lopez, from the Spaiiifi Curate of the fame Au- 
 thor, pag, 2 1 4. Gfr. 
 
 9^ Thierry and Theodoret, z Tragedy. This Play 
 is accounted by fome an excellent old Play ; the 
 Plot of it is founded on Hiftory. See the French 
 Chronicles in the Reign of Clotaire the Second. 
 See Fredegarius Scholajlicus, Aimoinus Monachui 
 FloriacenfiSy De Serres, Mczeray, Crifpin, &c. 
 
 95 q;'rwo Noble Ki?ifmen, a Tragi- Comedy. This 
 Play was written by Mr. Fletcher, and Mr. Shake- 
 [pear. The Story is taken from Chaucer'j Knight'^ 
 Tale, which Mr. Dryden has admirably put inta 
 modern Englilh ; it is the frfi Poem in bis 
 Fables. 
 
 '>» Commendatory Verfes by Gardinfr and Lovelact, to Flttchtr. 
 Prologue and Epilogue filent. 
 
 94 Quarto id^8, to Fktchir. Quarto 1649, ^"^ Croohc% Cata- 
 logue, to both. 
 
 v « Quarto 1634, Xo Fletcher and Shake/pear. Crookii Catalogue 
 (.'> D'-aumffit and r''!i<.her. Prologue and tpilogue filent, 
 
 Valentinian, 
 
xviii PREFACE. 
 
 96 Valentinian^ a Tragedy reviv'd not long ago 
 by that great Wit, the Earl of Rochejier ; adted 
 at the Theatre-Royal, and printed in Quarto 1685, 
 with a Preface concerning the Author and his 
 Writings. For the Plot fee the Writers of thofe 
 Times ; as CaJJidori Chron. Amm. MarcelL Hiji, 
 Evagnus Lib 2. Procopius^ Sec. 
 
 97 Wife for a Months a Tragi-Comedy. This 
 Play is in my poor Judgment well worth reviving, 
 and with the alteration of a judicious Pen, would 
 be an excellent Drama. The Characfler and Story 
 of Alphonfo., and his Brother Frederick'^ Carriage 
 to him, much refembles the Hiftory of Sancho the 
 Eighth, King of Leon, I leave the Reader to the 
 perufal of his Story in Mariana, and Loiiis de 
 Mayerne Turquct. 
 
 9^ Wild-Goofe Chafcy a Comedy valued by the 
 beft Judges of Poetry. 
 
 95 Wit at feveral Weapons^ a Comedy which by 
 fome is thought very diverting ; and poffibly was 
 the Model on which the Charad:ers of the Elder 
 Talatine and Sir Morglay "Thwack were built by 
 Sir William D'Avenant, in his Comedy call'd T^he 
 Wits, 
 
 "° Wit without Money ^ a Comedy which I have 
 feen adted at the Old Houfe in Little Lincolm-Inn- 
 Fields with very great Applaufe ; the Part of Fa- 
 
 9^ Commendatory Verfes by Lovelace and Stanley, to Fletcher, 
 Prologue none. Epilogue filent. 
 
 97 Commendatory Verfes by Gard'mtr to Fletcher, Prologue to 
 one. Epilogue filent. 
 
 93 Commendatory Verfes by Hills to Fletcher. 
 
 9 9 Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner to Fletcher. Epilogue to 
 both. 
 
 »•* Quarto 1639, ^^6'> and C/!7j'i/s Catalogue, to both. 
 
 Untinc 
 
PREFACE. xix 
 
 kntine being play'd by that compleat Ador Major 
 Mohiin^ deceas'd. This was the firft Play that 
 was adted after the Burning the King's Houfd in 
 Driiry-Lane ; a new Prologue being writ for them 
 by Mr. Dryden^ printed in his Mifcellany Poems ia 
 O(5lavo, p. 285. 
 
 ^°» Woman Hatery a Comedy. This Play was 
 reviv'd by Sir William D'Ave?iajit^ and a new 
 Prologue (inflead of the old One writ in Profe) 
 was fpoken, which the Reader may perufe in Sir 
 William's Works in Fol. p. 249. This Play was 
 one of thofe writ by Fletcher alone. 
 
 loi Women Pleas' d^ a Tragi-Comedy. The co- 
 mical Parts of this Play throughout between Bar- 
 tello^ Lopez, Ifabella, and Claudio, are founded on 
 fevcral of Boccace\ Novels : See Day 7. Nov. 6. 
 and 8. Day 8. Nov. 8. 
 
 ,03 Woman's Prize, or The Tamer Tam'd, a Co- 
 medy, written on the fime foundation with Shake- 
 /pear's Taming of the Shrew ; or which we may 
 better call a Second Part or Counter-part to that 
 admirable Comedy. This was writ by Mr. Fletcher's, 
 Pen likewife. 
 
 ■»oi Quarto 1649, and Cro(?^/s Catalogue to both. Prologue to one. 
 102 Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner and Hills, to Fletcher. 
 >03 Commendatory Verfes by Gardintr and LovtlacCf to FUtcher. 
 Prologue to one. Epilogue filent. 
 
 
 Names 
 
I^ames of the priiictpal A6iors 'who performed in 
 ' B E A u M o N t'j a7id Fletcher'^ Flays, 
 
 N. B. The Names marked thus * are the Names of the Players njukf 
 dedicated the Edition o/" 1 647 to the Earl of Pembroke. 
 
 William Allen 
 Hugh Atawell 
 Richard Birbadge 
 Theophilns Byrd 
 
 • Robert Benfield 
 George Birch 
 William Barkfted 
 Thomas Baffe 
 
 Henry Condel 
 Alexander Cooke 
 
 • Hugh Clearke 
 
 William Egleftone 
 
 Nathaniel Field. 
 
 Sander Gough 
 Giles Gary. 
 
 Thomas Holcombe 
 
 • Stephen Hammerton 
 John Honymaa 
 James Horn, 
 
 * John Lowin. 
 William OlUer: 
 
 * Thomas Pollard 
 William Penn. 
 
 Emanuel Read 
 John Rice 
 
 * Richard Robinfon 
 .William Rowly. 
 
 Richard Sharpc 
 Eylasard Swanfton 
 John Shank. 
 
 * Jofeph Taylor 
 Nicholas Toolie 
 William Trigg 
 John Thomron. 
 
 John Underwoocl. 
 
^n Account of the prefent 'EcUiion, 
 By r. S E IV A R D. 
 
 IN the Year Forty Two, Mr. T'hecbald piiblifl:!'d an 
 Advertifemcnt, that he was preparing an Edition of" 
 Beaumont and Fletcher for the Prefs, and dcfircd the Ar- 
 fiftance of all Gentlemen who had made any Comments 
 upon them. My perfonal Friendfhip with the Proprie- 
 tors of the Book engag'd me to give him fomc little Af- 
 fiftance-, and Mr. Sy^npfon fccn alter added his. We had 
 then only the late Editions to confulr, but Mr. lljeohald 
 had made a very valuable Collection of the old Rand's. 
 When v/e had fent hi.m our Notes on two or three Plays, 
 he began to print •, but the firil Play iiad not all pafs'd the 
 Prefs, v/hen I thought I had fonie fmall grounds of Com- 
 plaint. He on.itted feveral Emendations which Icem Hill 
 to me more dcferving of Notice than many v.liich are in- 
 ferted, of which the Reader has a Specimen at Page 30 
 of my Preface \ and I ihall add fome others in a Pofr- 
 fcript to the Firft Volume. After he had bctn prevaii'd 
 on by the Proprietors to fend me a Pro mile of a full Li- 
 berty to publiQi what Poftfcript I pleas'd at the end of 
 each Volume, he never after gave the ler.ft- C {fence but 
 by a Profufion of very undeferved Conipiiments. Thefe 
 fhould be inevitably expung'd, could I take the liberty of 
 altering any of Mr. Theobald'^ Notes : But this would 
 be unjuft, as it would leave the Reader uncertain what 
 were his. I have therefore only canccll'd one finglc 
 Leaf which Mr. 'Theobald printed, and there have 
 changM no Syllable of his, but only a Remark of my 
 own, which was fomething I had faid to him in a Letter, 
 without the lead thought of his publifliing it. As I was 
 very foon fenfible how liable we all were to Miftakes, I 
 begg'd that he would change every Syllable in my Notes 
 that carry'd the leafi: Air of Certainty or Pofitivenefs : 
 But as he had no Objedion to fuch a Sale himfelf, he did 
 Vol. L 1 not 
 
[ 2] 
 
 not think it necefTary to take that trouble. Mr. Theobald 
 printed under his Care the following Plays : 
 
 Volume the Firft. 
 
 The Maid's Tragedy ^ 
 
 Philaficr, 
 
 A King and No King^ 
 
 The Scornful Lady. 
 
 Volume the Second. 
 
 The Cujlojn of the Country^ 
 
 The Elder Brother, And the three firft Ads of 
 
 The S-panifh Curate^ to Page 231. 
 
 Of the Third Volume, part of 
 
 The Humourous Lieutenant, to Page 69. 
 
 And by his Death left the Edition thus imperfeft. 
 
 I then took the Care of the two laft Ads 
 (in Volume the Second) of 
 
 The S'panifh Curate, and the whole of 
 Wit without Money, and 
 The Beggar* s Bufh. 
 
 Volume the Third, from Page 69 of 
 
 The Humourous Lieutenant, and the whole of 
 
 The Faithful Shepherdefs, 
 
 The Mad Lover, 
 
 The Lcyal Subje&, and 
 
 Rule a Wife and have a Wife. 
 
 Volume the Fourth. 
 
 The Laws of Candy ^ 
 
 The Falfe One, 
 
 The Little French Lawyer, 
 
 Valentinian, 
 
 Monjieur Thomas^ 
 
 Volume 
 
 I 
 
[ 3 ] 
 
 Volume the Fifth. The two firft Plays. 
 
 7'he Chances, and 
 The Bloody Brother. 
 
 Volume the Ninth. The two laft Plays. 
 
 The Fair Maid of the Inn, and 
 Cupid's Revenge. 
 
 Volume the Tenth. 
 
 The two Noble Kin/men, 
 
 Thierry and Theodoret, 
 
 The Woman-Hater, 
 
 The Nice Valour, 
 
 The Honejl Man's Fortune, 
 
 The Mafque, 
 
 Four Flays, or Moral Reprefentations, in one. 
 
 Mr. Sympfon printed under his Infpeflion, of 
 Volume the Fifth, the four lait Plays, 
 
 The Wild Goofe Chafe, 
 A Wife for a Month, 
 The hover's Progrefs, 
 The Pilgrim. 
 
 Volume the Si^h. 
 The Captain, 
 The Prophetefs^ 
 The ^een of Corinth, 
 Bonduca, 
 The Knight of the Burning Pefik. 
 
 Volume the Seventh, 
 Love*s Pilgrimage, 
 The Double Marriage, 
 The Maid in the Mill, 
 The Knight of Malta, 
 The Martial Maid. 
 
 Volume 
 
£4 ] 
 
 Volume the Eighth. 
 JFcmen Pleased, 
 The Night^Valker^ 
 The Woman'' 5 Prize^ 
 The IJland Princefs, 
 The Noble Gentleman. 
 
 Volume the Ninth. The four firft Plays. 
 The Coronation^ 
 The Sea Voyage^ 
 The Coxcomb, 
 Wit at fever al Weapons, 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Page 20, Line 30, for 'Right read Night 
 I'l.'Jy 24, for World read Word 
 
 J 31, 25, for Regarded rszi Rewarded 
 
 138, 10, for P^ read Faji 
 
 168, 20, for that read than 
 
 341, Line the laft, inftead of Note 54, read 
 ■ dry Bones can reach at nothing now, 
 
 But Gords or Nine-fins'] Cords, i. e. Inftruments of Game then in common ofe j 
 we meet with the fame Term again in Stakefpear's Merry Wives of Windjtr, Acl I. 
 Jf Gord and Fullam holds. 
 
 THE 
 

 
 THE 
 
 M A I D J Tr a g e d y. 
 
 Vol. I. 
 
 B 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 MEN. 
 
 King of Rhodes. 
 
 Lyfippns, Brcther to the King. 
 
 Amintor, a noble Gentleman. 
 
 Melantius, 7 r. r t- i 
 
 T^. , ., i Brothers to Evadne, 
 
 Diphilus, J 
 
 Calianax, an old humorous Lord,, and Father to Aljxuia. 
 
 -, ' \ Gentlemen. 
 Strato, 3 
 
 Diagoras, a Servant to Calianax. 
 
 WOMEN. 
 
 Evadne, PVife to Amintor. 
 
 Afpatia, Troth-plight Wife to Amintor. 
 
 ^, . f Waiting-Gentlewomen to Afpatia. 
 Olympias, 3 «=* •^ 
 
 Dula, a Lady. 
 
 Night, 1 
 
 Cynthia, C ,^ ^ 
 
 ^; > Mafquers. 
 
 Neptune, f 
 
 .^olus, 3 
 
 SCENE, RHODES. 
 
 THE 
 

 ^fSW^^^^ 
 
 THE 
 
 M AI DV TRAGEDY- 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 ^n Apartment in the Palace, 
 Enter Cleon, Strato, Lyfippus, and Diphilus. 
 
 S T R A T O. 
 
 (I) Lyf. So 
 
 H E reft are making ready. Sir. 
 
 let them •, 
 There's Time enough. Diph, You are the 
 
 Brother to 
 The King, my Lord; we'll take your Word, 
 (2) Lyf. Strato, thou haft fome Skill in Poetry j 
 
 (i) Strat. So let them; there'' s Time enough. 
 
 Diph. Tou are the Brother to the King, my Lord ; 
 
 We' LI take your WordP^ 'Tis very early to begin blundering 
 at the fecond Line of the firll Play. Strato was not Brother to the King, 
 but Lyfippus. This Line therefore is to be placed to Lyfippus, and not 
 to Strata : And fo it is in the ^larto Edition publiih'd in the Year 
 1619 Another ^arto in 1650, and the Folio Edition in 1679, have 
 falPn into the Error of placing it to Strato. 
 
 (2) Lyf. Strato, thou hafi fome Skill in Poetry j 
 
 What think' Jl thou of a Mafque F ] It fhould be, the Mafque. 
 It was not then to be form'd ; nor does the Prince mean to ask, whe- 
 ther it will be well to have One ; but whether This, which is pre- 
 pared, will be a good One. This 5/r«/5's Anfwer and the $equel of 
 the Play plainly fhew. ' Mr. Se-ward. 
 
 B 2 What 
 
4 T^^ Maid's T'ragedy, 
 
 What think'ft thou of the Mafque ? Will it be well ? 
 Strat. As well as Mafque can be. Jyf. As Mulquc 
 can be? Strat. Why, ycs; 
 They muft commend their King, and fpeak in Praife 
 Of the Aflembly ; blefs the Bride and Bridegroom, 
 In Perfon of Ibme God -, they're tycd to Rules 
 Of Flatter)\ Ck. See, good my Lord, who is 
 Return'd ! : " - 
 
 E7iter Melantius. 
 
 Lyf. Noble Melantius ! The L;ind 
 By me welcomes thy Virtues home to Rhodes : 
 Thou, that with Blood abroad buy'ft us our Peace ! 
 The Breath of Kings is like the Breath of Gods ; 
 My Brother wifli'd thee here, and thou art here ; 
 He will be e'en too kind, and weary thee 
 With often Welcomes ; (3) but the Time doth give thee 
 A Welcome above his, or all the World's. [of mine 
 
 Mel. My Lord, my Thanks; but thcfe fcratch'd Limbs 
 Have Ipoke my Love and Truth unto my Friends, 
 More than my Tongue e'er could. My Mind's the fame 
 It ever was to You ; where I find Worth, 
 I love the Keeper till he let it go. 
 And then I follow it. Diph. Hail, worthy Brother ! 
 He, that rejoices not at your Return 
 In Safety, is mine Enemy for ever. 
 
 Mel. I thank thee, Diphilus: but thou art faulty; ■ 
 I fent for thee to exercife thine Arms 
 With me at P atria: thou cam 'ft not, Diphilus: 
 'Twasill. Diph. My noble Brother, my Excufe 
 Is my King's llraight Command ; which you, my Lord, 
 Can witnefs with me. Lyf. 'Tis moft true, Melantius ; 
 He might not come, till the Solemnity 
 Of this great Match was pall. Diph. Have you heard of it ? 
 
 Mel. Yes ; and have given caufe to thofe, that here 
 Envy my Deeds abroad, to call me gamefome ; 
 
 (3) but the Time doth gi've thee 
 
 A Welcome aho-ve this, or all the IForld^s.^ Lyjippus is fpeaking 
 in particular of the King, his Brother's, Welcome to Melantius; there- 
 forfe, I think, I have adopted the genuine Reading, which is autho- 
 riz'd by the ^arto in 1619; and ihe fecond Imprefiion in 1622. 
 
 I have 
 
7^^ Maid's Tragedy, 5 
 
 I have no other Bufinefs here at Rhodes. 
 
 Lyf. We have a Malqiie to Night, and you mud tread 
 A Soldier's Meafure. • 
 
 Mel. Thefe foft and filkcn Wars are not for me ; 
 The Mufick miifl: be Hirill, and all confus'd, 
 That ftirs my Blood, and then I dance with Arms : 
 But is Amintcr wed ? Diph. This Day. 
 
 Mel. All Joys upon him ! for he is my Friend : 
 (4) ( Wond'r not, I call a Man fo young my Friend ; ) 
 His Worth is great ; Valiant he is, and Temperate; 
 And one that never thinks his Life his own, 
 [f his Friend need it : When he was a Boy, 
 As oft as I return'd (as, without Boaft, 
 I brought home Conqueft) he would gaze upon me, 
 And view me round, to find in what one Limb 
 The Virtue lay to do thofe things he heard : 
 Then would he wifh to fee my Sword, and feel 
 The quicknefs of the Edge, and in his Hand 
 Weigh it ; he oft would make me fmile at this ; 
 His Youth did promife much, and his ripe Years 
 Will fee it all perform'd. 
 
 Enter Alpatia, pajfing with Attendants. 
 
 Hail, Maid and Wife ! 
 Thou fair Jfpatia! may the holy Knot, 
 That thou haft tyed to day, laft till the Hand 
 Of Age undo it ! may'ft thou bring a Race 
 Unto Amintor.^ that may fill the World 
 SuccefTively with Soldiers ! Afp. My hard Fortunes 
 Defcrve not Scorn ; for I was never proud. 
 When they were good, Mel. How's this ? 
 
 {Exit Afp. with her Attendants. 
 
 Lyf. You are miftaken, 
 For (lie's not married. Mel. You faid, Amintor was. 
 
 Diph. 'Tis true •, but — Mel. Pardon me, I did receive 
 Letters at Patria from my Amintor^ 
 
 (4) {JVond""}- not, J call a Man fo young my Friend; )] This Verfe, 
 lof\ in the modern Editions, I have retriev'd from the ^arfo^s of 
 1619,- and i6jO ; and the Folio of 1679. ^ h3.\e taken the Liberty to 
 give it its true Metre and Veriiticatlon. 
 
 B 2 That 
 
6 'The Maid's 'Tragedy, 
 
 That he fhould marry her. Biph. And fo it flood 
 
 In all Opinion long -, but your Arrival 
 
 Made me imagine, you had heard the Change. 
 
 Mel. Who hath he taken then ? Ly[. A Lady, Sir, 
 That bears the Light above her, and ilrikes dead 
 With Flafhes of her Eye •, the fair Evndne, 
 Your virtuous Sifler. Mel. Peace of Heart betwixt them ! 
 But this is ftrange. Lyf. The King, my Brother, did it 
 To honour you ; and thefe Solemnities 
 Are at his Charge, 
 
 Mel. 'Tis Royal, like himfelf i b"ut I am fad. 
 My Speech bears fo unfortunate a Sound 
 To beautiful Afpatia •, there is Rage 
 Hid in her Father's Bread, Calianax, 
 Bent long againfl me •, and he fliould not think. 
 If I could call it back, that I would take 
 So bafe Revenges, as to fcorn the State 
 Of his negledted Daughter : Holds he flill 
 His Greatnefs with the King ? Lyf. Yes ; but tliis Lady 
 Walks difcontented, with her watry Eyes 
 Bent on the Earth : The unfrequented Woods 
 Are her Delight •, where, when Ihe fees a Bank 
 Stuck Rill of Flowers, fhe with a Sigh will tell 
 Her Servants what a pretty place it were 
 To bury Lovers in ; and make her Maids 
 Pluck 'em, and ftrow her over like a Corfe. 
 She carries with her an infeftious Grief, 
 That flrikes all her Beholders ; flie will fing 
 The mournful'fl things that ever Ear hath heard. 
 And figh, and fing again •, and when the reft 
 Of our young Ladies, in their wanton Blood, 
 Tell mirthful Tales in Courfe that fill the Room 
 With Laughter, fhe will with fo fad a Look 
 Bring forth a Story of the filent Death 
 Of fome forfaken Virgin •, which her Grief 
 Will put in fuch a Phrafe, that, e'er fhe end. 
 She'll fend them weeping one by one away. 
 
 (5) Mel. She has a Brother under my Command, 
 
 Like 
 
 (5) She has a Brother, under my Command, 
 
 Like ker \ ] The Criticks in all Ages, upon Dramatick Poems, 
 
 have 
 
72^ Maid's Tragedy, j 
 
 Like her •, a Face, as womanifh as hers ; 
 But with a Spirit that hath much out-grown 
 The number of his Years. 
 
 Enter Amintor. 
 
 Cle. My Lord, the Bridegroom ! 
 
 Mel. I might run fiercely, not more haftily. 
 Upon my Foe : I love thee well, Amintor, 
 My Mouth is much too narrow for my Heart; 
 I joy to look upon thofe Eyes of thine -, 
 Thou art my Friend, but my diforder'd Speech 
 Cuts off my Love. Amin. Thou art Melantius ; 
 All Love is fpoke in that. A Sacrifice 
 To thank the Gods, Melantius is return'd 
 In Safety ! — Vidlory fits on his Sword, 
 As ihe was wont ; may flie build there and dwell. 
 And may thy Armour be, as it hath been, 
 Only thy Valour and thy Innocence ! 
 What endlefs Treafures would our Enemies give. 
 That I might hold thee ilill thus ! Mel. I'm but poor 
 In Words, but credit me, young Man, thy Mother 
 
 have laid it down for a Rule, that an Incident {hould be prepared, but 
 not prevented; that is, not forefeen, fo as to take off the Surprize: 
 For then the whole Pleafure of the Incident is pall'd, and has no Efleft 
 upon the Audience or Readers. Thefe Preparatives, therefore, muft 
 feem by Chance to the Spedlators, tho' they are always defignedly 
 thrown in by the Poet. *' In mult is Oeconoviia Cotnicorum Poetarum 
 " ita fe habet, ut Cafu futet SpeSiator <venijfe quod Confilio Scripto- 
 " rum faBum fit •''' fays Donatus upon Terence. This is the 
 moft artful Preparation, that I remember in all Beaumont and Fletcher's 
 Plays, for an Incident which is in no kind fufpedled. Melantius fays, 
 he has a Brother of Afpatia under his Command, moft like her in the 
 Softnefs of Face and Feature. This Brother never appears in any Scene 
 thro' the Play : But when Afpatia comes in Boy's Cloaths to fight with 
 Amintor, to obtain her Death from his Hand, and tells him. 
 For till the Change of IVar marJid this fmooth Face 
 With thefe fenu Blemifhes, People luould call me 
 My lifter'' s PiSlure \ and her, mine; Infijort, 
 I am the Brother to the ivrong'd Afpatia. 
 This Fore Mention of the Brother, here, makes the Incident the more 
 probable, and llriking ; as Amintor mull have heard of fuch a Bro- 
 ther, and could have no Sufpicion that he was going to draw his 
 Sword againft Afpatia, The Audience are equally amufed with the 
 Fallacy. 
 
 B 4 Could 
 
8 The Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 Could do no more but weep for Joy to fee thee 
 After long Abfence j all the Wounds I have 
 Fetch'd noL fo much away, nor all the Cries 
 Of widowed Mothers too : but this is Peace ; 
 And that was War. Amin. Pardon, tliou holy God 
 Of Marriage-bed, and frown not, I am forc'd. 
 In anfv/er of fuch noble Tears as thofe, 
 To weep upon my Wedding-day. 
 
 (6) Mel. I fear, thou art grown too fickle ; for, I hear, 
 A Lady mourns for thee ; Men fay, to Death ; 
 Forfaken of thee ; on what terms, I know not. 
 
 Jmin. She had my Promife, but the King forbad it ; 
 And made me make this worthy Change, thy Sifter, 
 Accompanied with Graces far above her •, 
 With whom I long to lofe my lufty Youth, 
 And grow old in her Arms. Mel. Be profperous ! 
 
 Enter MefTenger. 
 
 Meff. My Lord, the Mafquers rage for you. 
 
 hyf. We are gone. Cleon^ Strata., Diphilus, • 
 
 [Exeunt Lyfippus, Cleon, Strato, iind Diphilus. 
 
 Amin. We'll all attend you : We fliall trouble You 
 With our Solemnities. Afel. Not fo, Amintor ; 
 But if you laugh at my rude Carriage 
 In Peace, I'll do as much for you in War, 
 When you come thither. Yet I have a Miftrefs, 
 To bring to your Delights ; rough though I am, 
 I have a Miftrefs, and ftie has a Hcait, 
 She fays ; but, truft me, it is Stone, no better ; 
 (7) There's no place I can challenge gentle in't. 
 
 But 
 
 • (6) Me!. I fear, thou art grozvn ^cs fick ; for I hear, '\ This Verfe 
 halts in the Metre, thro' a flight Corruption in the modern Editions. 
 The oldeft ^.'i2r/o, in 1619, ha? it, cruel: but the next, in 1622, 
 Jickle ; from which Word it was millakcnly alter'd tojick. 
 
 {7) 7kere is no Place that I can challenge int.'] The ^arto, in 
 1619, reads it thus ; 
 
 There is no Place that I can challenge, Gentlemen. 
 But the Gentlemen were all gone oft", except Himfelf and Amintor. I 
 believe, from the Traces of the old Text, that the Emendation, which 
 I have ventured to adopt, may rcftore the Authors' genuine Reading : 
 aiid, ^ i; is c0nfonci.1t in Senfe to what he fays in the preceding Verie, 
 
 I hope. 
 
Hoe Maid's T'ragecly. 9 
 
 But you ftand ftill, and here my way lies. \_Exetmt feverally. 
 Enter Calianax '•joith Diagoras. 
 
 Cal. Diagoras, look to the Doors better for fliame ; 
 you let in all the World, and anon the King will rail at 
 me ; why, veiy well laid ; by Jove, the King will have 
 the Show i'th* Court. 
 
 Diag. Why do you fwear fo, my Lord ? 
 You know, he'll have it here. 
 
 Cal, By this Light, if he be wife, he will not. 
 
 Diag. And if he will not be wife, you are foifworn. 
 
 Cal. One may wear out his Heart with Swearing, and 
 get thanks on no fide •, I'll be gone, look to't, who will. 
 
 Diag. My Lord, I Ihall never keep them out. 
 Pray, ftay ; your Looks will terrify them. 
 
 Cal. My Looks terrify them, you Coxcombly Afs, you! 
 I'll be judg'd by all the Company, whether thou hail not 
 a worfe Face than I — • — 
 
 Diag. I mean, becaufe they know you and your OfEce. 
 
 Cal. OfRce ! I would I could put it off; I am fure, I 
 fweat quite through my OfHce. I might have made room 
 at my Daughter's Wedding, they ha' near kill'd her a- 
 mong them. And now I mull: do fervice for him that hath 
 forfaken her •, ferve, that will. \^Exit Calianax. 
 
 Diag. He's fo humorous fmce his Daughter was for- 
 faken : hark, hark -, there, there •, fo, fo ;— — 
 What now ? [Knock withiu. 
 
 A/f"/. Open the Door. D/^^.Who's there.'* Mel. Melantius. 
 
 Diag. I hope, your Lordfliip brings no Troop witli 
 you ; for, if you do, I mufl return them. 
 
 Enter Melantius, and a Lady, 
 
 Mel. None but this Lady, Sir. 
 
 Diag. The Ladies are all plac'd above, fave thofe thac 
 come in the King's Troop ; the beil of Rhodes fit there, 
 and there's room. 
 
 Mel. I thank you, Sir. When I have feen you plac'd, 
 
 I hope, the Change will not be look'd upon as an arbitrary Con- 
 jeft'jre. By gtrfk we muft underftand/o/>, in oppofition to the Hard- 
 nefs of Stonf. 
 
 Madam, 
 
lO The Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 Madam, I mufl: attend upon the King; 
 
 But, the Mafque done, I'll wait on you again. 
 
 Biag. Stand back there, room for my Lord Melantius ; 
 pray, bear back ; this is no place for fuch Youths and 
 their Trulls ; let the Doors be fhut again ; no ! do your 
 Heads itch? I'll fcratch them for you: fo, now thruft 
 and hang : again, — who is't now ? I cannot blame my Lord 
 Calianax for going away j 'would, he were here ! he would 
 run raging among them, and break a dozen wifer Heads 
 than his own in the twinkling of an Eye : what's the 
 news now ? 
 
 WitbinJ] I pray, can you help me to the Speech of the 
 Mafler-Cook ? 
 
 Biag. If I open the Door, I'll cook fome of your 
 Cah'-^s-heads. Peace, Rogues. — again, — who is't? 
 
 Mel. Melantius. [Within. 
 
 Enter Calianax. 
 
 Cat. Let him not in. 
 
 Biag. O, my Lord, I mufl: ; make room there for my 
 Lord. Is your Lady plac'd? [21? Mel. 
 
 Mel. Yes, Sir, 
 I thank you. My Lord Calianax^ well met ; 
 Your caufelefs Hate to me, I hope, is buried. 
 
 Cal. Yes, I do fervice for your Siller here, 
 Tliat brings my own poor Child to timelcfs Death ; 
 She loves your Friend Jmintor^ fuch another 
 Falfe-hearted Lord as you. Mel. You do me wrong, 
 A mofl: unmanly one, and I am flow 
 In taking Vengeance ; but be well advis'd. 
 
 Cal. It may be fo : Who plac'd the Lady there. 
 So near the prefence of the King? Mel. I did. 
 
 Cal. My Lord, fhe mufl: not fit there. Mel. Why ? 
 
 Cal. The place is kept for Women of more Worth. 
 
 Mel. More Worth than flie ? it mif-becomes your Age, 
 And Place, to be thus womanifli ; forbear ; 
 What you have fpoke, I am content to think 
 The Palfey fliook your Tongue to. Cal. Why, 'tis well, 
 If I fl:and here to place Men's Wenches for them. 
 
 Mel. I fliall forget this Place, thy Age, my Safety, 
 
 And 
 
Tlje Maid's Tragedy, xi 
 
 And, thorough all, cut that poor ficldy Week, 
 Thou haft to live, away from tliee. 
 
 Cal. Nay, I know. 
 You can fight for your Whore. Mel. Bate me the King, 
 And be he Flelh and Blood, he lyes, that fays it j 
 Thy Mother at fifteen was black and finflil 
 To her. Biag. Good my Lord ! [Man, 
 
 Mel Some God pluck threefcore Years from tliat fond 
 That I may kill him, and not ftain mine Honour j 
 It is the Curfe of Soldiers, that in Pcace_ 
 (8) They (hall be brav'd by fuch ignoble Men, 
 As (if the Land were troubled) would with Tears 
 And Knees beg Succour from 'em. 'Would, that Blood 
 (That Sea of Blood) that I have loft in fight. 
 Were running in thy Veins, that it might make thee 
 Apt to fay lefs, or able to maintain, 
 Shouldft thou fay more ! — This Rhodes., I fee, is nought 
 But a Place privileg'd to do Men Wrong, 
 
 Cal. Ay, you may fay your Pleafure. 
 
 Enter Amintor. 
 
 Amin. What vile Wrong 
 Has ftirr'd my worthy Friend, who is as flow 
 To fight with Words, as he is quick of Hand .'' 
 
 Mel. That heap of Age, which I fhould reverence 
 If it were temperate ; but tefty Years 
 Are moft contemptible. Amin. Good Sir, forbear. 
 
 Cal. There is juft fuch another as yourfelf. 
 
 Amin. He will wrong you, or me, or any Man ; 
 And talk as if he had no Life to lofe, 
 Since this our Match : The King is coming in ; 
 I would not for more Wealth than I enjoy. 
 He fliould perceive you raging •, he did hear, 
 You were at difference now, which haftned him. 
 
 Cal. Make room there. {Hohoyes play within. 
 
 (8) They Jhall he brain'd by fuch ignoble Men ] Thus, all the vulgar 
 and modern Editions: But fuch ignoble Men, zs Alelantius is de- 
 fcribing, durfl: not knock a Soldier's Brains out; tho' they might 
 venture to infult him. The ^arto of 1619 gives us the genuine 
 Reading, which I have inferted in the Text. 
 
 Enter 
 
12 The Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 Enter King, Evadne, Afpatia, Lords and Ladies. 
 
 Kir.g. Mekntius, thou art welcome, and my Love 
 Is with thee ftill ; but this is not a Place 
 To brabble in -, Calianax^ join hands, 
 
 Cal. He lliall not have my hand. King. Tliis is no time 
 To force you to it ; I do love you Both : 
 Calianax^ you look well to your Office ; 
 And you, Mehntiiis, are welcome home. 
 Begin the Mafqye. 
 
 Mel. Sifter, I joy to fee you, and your Choice. 
 You look'd with my Eyes when you took that Man ; 
 Be happy in him ! [Recorders play. 
 
 Evad. O my deareft Brother! 
 Your Prefence is more joyful than this Day 
 Can be unto me. 
 
 r H E M A S <^ U E. 
 
 Night ri{es in Mijis. 
 
 Night. Our Reign is now \ for in the quenching Sea 
 The Sun is drown'd, and with him fell the Day j 
 Bright Cinthia^ hear my Voice ; I am the Night, 
 For whom thou bear'ft about thy borrow'd Light ; 
 Appear, no longer thy pale Vifage fhroud. 
 But ftrike thy Silver Horns quite through a Cloud, 
 And fend a Beam upon my fwarthy Face ; 
 By which I may difcover ail the Place 
 And Perfons, and how many longing Eyes 
 Are come to wait on our Solemnities. \Enter Cinthia. 
 How dull and black am I .'' Can I not find 
 This Beauty without thee, am I fo blind .'' 
 Methinks, they fhew like to thofe Eaftern Streaks 
 That warn us hence, before the Morning breaks ; 
 Back, my pale Servant, for thefe Eyes know how 
 To fhoot far more and quicker Rays than thou. 
 
 Cinth. Great Queen, they be a Troop for whom alone 
 One of my cleareft Moons I have put on ; 
 A Troop, that looks as if thyfelf and I 
 Had pluckt our Reins in, and our Whips laid by. 
 
 To 
 
Hhe Maid's 'Tragedy, 13 
 
 To gaze upon thefe Mortals, that appear 
 
 Brigliccr than we. Night. Then let us keep 'em here ; 
 
 And never more our Chariots drive away. 
 
 But hold our Places, and out-fhine the Day. 
 
 Cinth. Great Queen of Shadows, you are pleas'd to fpeak 
 Of more than may be done ; we may not break 
 The Gods' Decrees, but when our time is come, 
 Muft drive away, and give the Day our room. 
 
 (9) Yet, while our Reign lafts, let us ftretch our Pow'r 
 I'o give our Servants one contented Hour, 
 
 With fuch unwonted folem.n Grace and State, 
 As may for ever after force them hate 
 Our Brother's glorious Beams ; and wifh the Night 
 Crown'd with a thoufand Stars, and our cold Light : 
 For almofl all the World their fervice bend, 
 To Phccbus^ and in vain my Light 1 lend ; 
 Gaz'd on unto my Setting from my Rife 
 Almoft of none, but of unquiet Eyes. 
 
 Night. Then fliine at full, fair Queen, and by thy Pow'r 
 Produce a Birth, to crown this happy hour. 
 Of Nymphs and Shepherds ; let their Songs difcover, 
 Eafy and fweet, who is a happy Lover ; 
 Or, if thou woo't, thine own Endymion 
 From the fweet flow'ry Bank he lies upon. 
 On Latfnus^ top, thy pale Beams drawn away ; 
 And of this long Night let him make a Day. [mine, 
 
 Cinth. Thou dream'ft, dark Queen; that fair Boy was nor 
 Nor went I down to kifs him •, Kafe and Wine 
 Have bred thefe bold Tales ; Poet?, when they rage. 
 Turn Gods to Men, and make an Hour an Age j 
 But I will give a greater State and Glory, 
 And raife to time a nobler Memory 
 Of what thefe Lovers are : Rife, rife, I fay, 
 
 (10) Thou Pow'r of Deeps, thy Surges lade away, 
 
 Neptune, 
 
 (9) T~et ivbilc our Reign lafts, &c.] This and the nine fubfequent 
 "I'erfes are wanting in the old Shtarto of 1619: BaC we meet with 
 them in that of 1630. 
 
 (10) — thy Surges laid «w«^,] The printed Word hitherto has 
 been, fai^ ; but I think it fcarce Senfe. Nepturzc in leaving the Ocean 
 is never fuppofed either to bring hii Surges with him, or lay them 
 
 afide. 
 
1.4 "n^e Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 Neptune, great King of Waters, and by me 
 
 Be proud to be commanded. [Neptune rifes. 
 
 Nept. Qnthia, fee, 
 Tliy word hath fetch'd me hither •, let me know, 
 Wliy I afcend. 
 
 Cinth. Doth this Majeftick Show 
 Give thee no knowledge yet ? Nept. Yes, now I fee 
 Somediing intended (Cinthia) worthy thee -, 
 Go on, I'll be a Helper. Cinth. Hie thee then. 
 And charge the Wind fly from his rocky Den. 
 Let looie thy Subjcds ; only Boreas.^ 
 Too foul for our Intention, as he was. 
 Still keep him faft cliain'd ; we muft have none here 
 But vernal Blafts, and gende Winds appear ; 
 Such as blow Flow'rs, and through the glad Boughs fing 
 Many foft welcomes to the lufty Spring. 
 Thefe are our Mufick : Next, thy watry Race 
 Bring on in Couples \ (we are pleas'd to grace 
 This noble Night,) each in their richeft things 
 Your own Deeps, or the broken VefTel, brings ; 
 Be prodigal, and I fhall be as kind. 
 And fliine at full upon you, 
 
 ( 1 1 ) Nept. Ho ! the Wind- \_Enter N.o\\i% out of a Rock. 
 
 Commanding y^fyZ/^j- / yEoL Great Neptune ! Nept.FLc. 
 
 yEol. What is thy Will .'' Nept. We do command thee free 
 
 afide, but barely to leave them. The Word lade will fignify his part- 
 ing the Waves with his Trident to give him a free Paffage ; which is 
 an Image quite poetical ! Mr. Seivard. 
 
 (il) Ho f the Wind! 
 
 Commanding JEo\\i%\'\ All the Editions have miftaken the Inten- 
 tion of the Authors here. 'Tis well known, Molus, in poetick Fa- 
 ble, was the Mafter and Controuler of the Winds; which he was 
 fuppofed to keep bound in a Cave, and to let loofe upon the Ocean as 
 he was commanded by Neptune. He is therefore call'd here the 
 Wind-commanding jJLolus\ a compound Adjeftive which mull be 
 wrote with an Hyphen, as I have reform'd the Text. The Editors 
 were led into a Millake by the Word being divided, and put into two 
 Lines for the Prefervation of the Rhyme. I ought to take Notice, 
 for two Reafons, that both Mr. Senvard and Mr. Sy?npfnn join'd with 
 me in llarting this Corredlion : Becaufe it is doing Jultice to the Sa- 
 gacity of my Friends; and, befides, it is certainly a great Confirma- 
 tion of the Truth of an Emendation, where three Pcrfons, all diftant 
 from one another, ftrike out the fame Obfervation. 
 
 Favcnius, 
 
"The Maid^s Tragedy, 15 
 
 Favomus^ and thy milder Winds, to wait 
 
 Upon our Cinthia \ but tie Boreas ftra'ight ; 
 
 (12) He's too rebellious. Mol. I Ihall do it. Nep. Do. 
 
 Mel Great Mafter of the Flood, and all below. 
 
 Thy full Command has taken. Ho! the Main! 
 
 Neptune ! — NepL Here. MoL Boreas has broke his Chain, 
 And, ftruggling with the reft, has got away. 
 
 Nepi. Let him alone, I'll take him up at Sea j 
 I will not long be thence ; go once again. 
 And call out of the bottoms of the Main 
 Blue Proteus, and the reft ; charge them put on 
 Their greateft Pearls, and the moft fparkling Stone 
 The beaten Rock breeds ; 'till this Night is done 
 By me a folemn honour to the Moon. 
 Fly, like a full Sail. MoL I am gone. Cmt/j. Dark Night, 
 Strike a full Silence, do a thorough right 
 To this great Chorus •, that our Mufick may 
 Touch high as Heav'n, aiid make the Eaft break Day 
 At Mid -night. [Mu/Ick. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Cinthia, to thy Power, and I'hee^ 
 
 We obey. 
 'Jcy to this great Company ! 
 
 And no Day 
 Come to fteal this Night away. 
 
 (i 2) Nept. Do, great Mafier of the Flood, and all beloWt 
 7h full Command has taken. Mo\. Ho', the Main''\ I have 
 vcntur'd at a fmall, but, as I think, at a very neceffary Tranlpofi- 
 tion here in the Charafters fpeaking. How can Neptune with any 
 Propriety call ^^olus great Mafter of the Floods and all below, when 
 he himfelf, according to the Poetical Syftem, bore that fupreme Com- 
 mand? jEoIus, 'tis true, was fuppos'd to have a Controul over the 
 Winds; a fort of limitary Charge, in which he was a Subllitute to 
 Neptune. In {hort, I believe that the Poets intended, fo foon as Nep- 
 tune had given out his Orders, ..■Eolus, (whofe Operations as a God 
 were not confined to Time and vulgar Motion;) fhould immedi- 
 ately tell Neptune his Commands were obey'd ; and then finding that 
 Boreas had efcap'd amongll the other Winds, He calls out again to 
 acquaint Neptune with it. Thus all is clear, and they ad in their 
 diitinft proper Offices. 
 
 'nil 
 
1 6 The Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 ""Till the Rites of Lo-ve are ended; 
 And the hifiy bridegroom fay, 
 
 JVelcome, Light, of all befriended. 
 Pace out, you watry Powers below. 
 
 Let your Feet, 
 Like the G allies when they row. 
 
 Even beat. 
 Let your unknown Meafures, fet 
 
 To theflill JVinds, tell to all, 
 'That Gods are come, immortal, great. 
 
 To honour this great Nuptial. 
 
 The Mcafure. Second Sons. 
 
 Hold back thy Hours, old Night, //// we have done ; 
 
 The Day will come too foon ; 
 Young Maids will curfe thee if thou fleaVfl away, 
 (13} And leav'fi their Loffes open to the Day. 
 
 Stay, flay, and hide ' 
 
 The Blufhes of the Bride. 
 Stay, gentle Night, and with thy Darknefs cover 
 
 The Kiffes of her Lover. 
 Stay, and confound her Tears, and her fhrill Cryings, 
 Her weak Denials, Vows, and often Dyings ; 
 
 Stay, and hide all j 
 
 But help not, though floe call. 
 
 (14) Nept. Great Queen of us and Heav'n, hear what 
 I bring 
 To make this hour a full one. Cinth. Speak, Sea's King. 
 
 Nept. 
 
 - Maiaens will curie thee, Jytgfjt, it tnou leav it tne hojs 
 rginity open to the Day ; Stay therefore, and hide the 
 Bride's Blufies. " 
 (14) Great Slueen of us and Hea'v'n, 
 Hear 'what I bring to make this hour a full one. 
 
 If flat her meafure. Cinth. Speak, Sea's King. 
 
 This PafTage, I am afraid, has been fadly mangled : The Verfe and 
 Rhyme have been difconcertcd ; and the Senfe quite loft by an extraor- 
 dinary Interpolation. I think, I have apply'd a Remedy to both. 
 What can be the meaning of making this hour a full one^ if not her 
 
 Meafure ? 
 
He MaidTs ^Tragedy, 17 
 
 (15) t^ept. The Tunes my Ajnphitrit e ]oys to have> 
 "When flie will dance upon the iifing Wave, 
 And court mc as fhe fails. My Tritons, play 
 Mufick to lead a Storm -, Til lead the way. 
 
 [Mafquers dance ; Neptune leads it. 
 
 SONG. Meafure. 
 
 To Bed, to Bed; come. Hymen, lead the Bride ^ 
 
 And lay her by her Husband's Side: 
 
 Bring in the Virgins every one, 
 
 That grieve to lie alone : 
 That they may kifs while they may [ay, a Maid ; 
 
 To-morrow, 'twill be other kiji, and [aid: 
 
 Hefperus be long a flnning, 
 
 JVhilJi thefe Lovers are a twining. 
 
 Mol. Ho! 'Neptune] Nept. yEolus! 
 
 jEol. The Seas go high, 
 Boreas hath rais'd a Storm ; go and apply 
 Thy Trident, elfe, I prophefy, e'er Day 
 Many a tall Ship will be caft away : 
 Defcend with all thy Gods, and all their Power, 
 ( 1 6) To ftrike a Calm. Cinth. We thank you for this Hour : 
 My Favour to you all. To gratulate 
 So great a Service done at my defire. 
 Ye fhall have many Floods, fuller and higher 
 
 Meafure ? i. e. if not a full one ? The Words are certainly to be 
 ftruck out. Some careful Annotator had made a marginal ^^ere, at 
 the Clofe of the fecond Song ; If not her Meafure : i. e. Whether this 
 Meafure is not to be fung by Cinthia ; as it undoubtedly is : But the 
 Note of Reference to this ^are being forgot, it was miftaken at Prefs 
 for a Part of the Text, and cafually clap'd to Nepiune^% Speech. 
 
 (15) Thy Tunes my Amphitrite joys to ha've 
 When they nxjill dance upon the rifing Wave, 
 
 And court me as the Sails. l5c.'\ The Reformation, in thefe four 
 Lin«s of Neptune, from the vulgar Editions, are prefcribed by the in- 
 genious Mr. Se-Ji-ard; they are, as he fays, extremely Pidurefque ; 
 and, if exprefk'd as well in Colouring, would rival the Jcis and 
 Galatea of Raphael. 
 
 ( 1 6) To fir ike a Call. ] This is Nonfcnfe. The two ^artoi of j 6 1 9 and 
 1630 come in to our Alliftance, who both read a Calm. As the Rhymes 
 arc interrupted in the fabfequeni Speech oi Cinthia, Something muft be 
 loll; aDefe<Jlwhichisnottobcfuppl:edbyConjedlure. Boxh.'M.r.Sevjard 
 and Mr. Sympfon hit upon the Emendation auihoriz'd by the old Copies. 
 
 Vol.. I, C Than 
 
1 8 The Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 Than you have wilhed for ; no Ebb fhall dare 
 To let the Day fee where your Dwellings are : 
 Now back unto your Government in hafle. 
 Left your proud Charge fliould fwell above the Wafte, 
 And win upon the Ifland. Nept. We obey. 
 
 [Neptune defcnids, and the Sea-Gods. 
 Cinth. Hold up thy Head, dead Night •, feeft thou not 
 The Eaft begins to lighten ; I muft down, [Day? 
 
 And give my Brother Place. Night. Oh ! I could frown 
 To fee the Day, the Day that flings his Light 
 Upon my Kingdom, and contemns old Night ; 
 
 (17) Let him go on and flame ; I hope to fee 
 Another Wild-fire in his Axletree j 
 
 And all fall drench'd : But I forget ; fpeak. Queen ; 
 The Day grows on, I muft no more be feen. 
 
 Cin. Heave up thy droufy Head again, and fee 
 A greater Light, a greater Majefly, 
 
 (18) Between our Set and us ; whip up thy Team ; 
 The Day breaks here, and yon fame flafhing Stream 
 Shot from the South j fay, wilt thou go ^ which way ? 
 
 Night, ril vanifh into Mifts. [Exit. 
 
 Cinth. I into Day. [Exit. Mafque ends. 
 
 King. Take lights there; Ladies, get the Bride to Bed j 
 We will not fee you laid. Good-night, Amintor^ 
 We'll eafe you of that tedious Ceremony ; 
 Were it my Cafe, I fhould think Time run flow. 
 If thou be'ft Noble, Youth, get me a Boy, 
 That may defend my Kingdom from my Foes. 
 
 Amin. All Happineis to you ! 
 
 King. Good-night, Melantius. [Exeunt, 
 
 (17) — — I hope to fee 
 
 Another Wild-fire in his Axletree j 
 
 And all falfe drench" di\ This alludes to the Fable of Phaeton, 
 borrowing the Chariot of the Sun, and fecting the World on Fire. 
 The old ^mrto's have it right. And all fall drench" d: For Phaeton^ 
 and the Chariot, both fell headlong from the Sky into the Ocean. 
 
 (18) Beti.veen our Seft and us\\ This is Nonfenfe. The Night zni 
 Clnthia both talk of the Morning's Approach, and that they muft 
 go down ; till the Latter finds out, that they are only the Rays of Light 
 Hiot from the King and Court, which they miftook for the Day- break. 
 Hence it*s plain, it fhould be wrote-'— —Betiveeft our Set and us. i. e. 
 cur Setting, or, going down. Mr. Senvard. 
 
 - ACT 
 
iToe Maid'' 5 Tragedy, 19 
 
 A C T II. SCENE I. 
 
 S C E N E, /7» Antechamber to Evadne'i 
 Bedcha?}iber. 
 
 Enter Evadne, Afpatia, Dula, and other Ladies. 
 
 D/^/^.]%/rAdam, fhall we undrefs you for this Fight? 
 ^^^ The Wars are naked, you mufl make to 
 Night. 
 
 Evad. You are merry, Dula. 
 
 Dula. IJhould be merrier far y if ^twere 
 With me as 'tis luith you. [Singing, 
 
 (19) Evad. How's that ? 
 
 Dula. That I might go to Bed with him 
 IW th' Credit that you do. 
 
 Evad. Why, how now. Wench? 
 
 Tiula. Come, Ladies, will you help ? 
 
 Evad. I am Ibon undone. 
 
 IDula. And as foon done : 
 Good (tore of Clothes will trouble you at both.' 
 
 Evad. Art thou drunk, Dula ? 
 
 Dula. Why, here's none but we. 
 
 Evad. Thou think'ft, belike, there is no Modefty 
 When we are ak)ne. 
 
 Dula. Ay, by my Troth, you hit my Thoughts aright. 
 
 Evad. You prick me. Lady. Dula. 'Tis againft my Will : 
 Anon you mull endure more, and lie ftill. 
 You're belt to pradife. Evad. Sure, this Wench is mad." 
 
 Dula. No, faith, this is a Trick that I have had 
 
 (19) Evad. Hoiu's that? 
 
 Dula. That I might go to Bed luttb him nvith Credit that you do."] 
 Thcfe Words I have retriev'd from the old ^arto of 1619: And 
 as Dula i?, through the whole Scene, remarkably a merry and a wan- 
 ton Wench ; I have a ftrong Sufpicion that fiie is here finging a Stanza 
 from feme old known Bal!?H. I have therefore ventured to replace the 
 whole in the Text, a, I verily believe, the Authors intended it; And 
 efpecially as I had Mr. Sevjard^ Approbation for fo doing. Nor 
 was it a bad WiHi in Dul% for herlelf, that (he might be match'J with 
 fuch a Man as AmintQr. 
 
 C 2 Since 
 
^O The Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 Since I was fourteen. Evad. ' Tis high time to leave it. 
 
 Bula. Nay, now I'll keep it, 'till the trick leave me j 
 A dozen wanton Words, put in your Head, 
 Will make you livelier in your Husband's Bed. 
 
 Evad. Nay, faith, tlien take it. — 
 
 Dula Take it. Madam? where? 
 We all, I hope, will take it, that are here. 
 
 Evad. Nay, then, I'll give you o'er. Dida. So will I make 
 The ableft Man in Rhodes^ or his Heart ake. 
 
 Evad. Wilt take my Place to Night ? 
 
 Dula. I'll hold your Cards 
 'Gainft any two I know. Evad. What wilt thou do ? 
 
 Dula. Madam, we'll do't, and make 'cm leave Play too. 
 
 Evad. JJpatia^ take her part. Dula. I will refufe it. 
 She will pluck down afide, ihe does not ufe it. 
 
 Evad. Why, do, I prethee. Dula. You will find the 
 Quickly, becaufe your Head lies well that way. [Play 
 
 Evad. I thank thee, Dula ; 'would, thou could'ft inflill 
 Some of thy Mirth into Afpatia ! 
 Nothing but fad Thoughts in her Bread do dwell ; 
 Methinks, a Mean betwixt you would do well. 
 
 Dula. She is in Love ; hang me, if I were Co, 
 But I could run my Cjountry : I love too 
 To do thofe things, that People in Love do. 
 
 /jlfp. It were a timelefs Smile Ihould prove my Cheek j 
 It were a fitter Hour for me to laugh. 
 When at the Altar the religious Prieft 
 Were pacifying the offended Powers 
 With Sacrifice, than now. This fhould have been 
 My Right ; and all your Hands have been imploy'd 
 In giving me a fpotlefs Offering 
 To young Jminior's Bed, as we are now 
 For you. Pardon, Evadne-, 'would, my Worth 
 Were great as yours, or that the King, or He, 
 Or Both, thought fo ! Perhaps, he found me worthlefs ; 
 But, till he did fo, in thefe Ears of mine 
 (Thefe credulous Ears) he pour'd the fweeteft Words 
 That Art or Love could frame ; if he were falle. 
 Pardon it. Heaven ! and if I did want 
 Virtue, you fafely may forgive that too ; 
 
 Foi' 
 
I 
 
 The Maid^s Tragedy] 21 
 
 (20) For I have loft none that I had from you. 
 
 Evad. Nay, leave this fad Talk, Madam. 
 
 Afp. 'Would, I could ! 
 Then fhould I leave the Caufe. 
 
 Evad. See, if you have not fpoil'd all BuJa's Mirth. 
 
 Jfp. Thou think'ft thy Heart hard, but if thou be'ft 
 Remember me ; thou flialt perceive a Fire [caught. 
 
 Shot fuddenly into thee. 
 
 Dula. That's not fo good ; let *em fhoot any thing but 
 Fire, I fear 'em not. 
 
 Jfp. Well, Wench, thou may'ft be taken. 
 
 Evad. Ladies, Good-night ; 
 I'll do the reft myfelf. Dula. Nay, let your Lord do fome. 
 
 Alp. Lay a Garland on my Hearfe of the difmal Tew. 
 
 [Singing. 
 
 Evad. That's one of your fad Songs, Madam. 
 
 jffp. Believe me, 'tis a very pretty one. 
 
 Evad. How is it, Madam .'' 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Afp. Lay a Garland on my Hearfe of the difmal Tew i 
 Maidens^ JVillow Branches bear j fay, I died true : 
 My Love was falfe., but I was firm from my Hour of Birth ; 
 Upon my buried Body lye lightly, gentle Earth ! 
 
 Evad. Fie on't. Madam ! the Words are Co ftrange, 
 they are able to make one Dream of Hobgoblins. / could 
 never have the Pow^r ; Sing that, Dula. 
 
 Dula, / could never have the PowW 
 To love one above an Hour, 
 
 (20) ■ And if 1 did ixjant 
 
 Firtue, you fafely may forginje that too % 
 
 For I hwve left none that I had from you.^ Left none mull fig- 
 nlfy here none left, I think, or nothing: And then, furely, it is a 
 ftrange Mock-plea in Afpatia, to fay that the Heavens may fafely 
 forgive her for it. The Abfurdity of the Reafoning naakes it abfolutely 
 neceflary that we (hould have recourfeto the Reading of the three eldeft 
 i^arto'iy which I have reftored to the Text. Then the meaning is 
 clear and obvious. Her Expollulation is with the Heavens to this 
 Purpofe: If I wanted Virtue, you may forgive that; Why did you 
 not grant me a larger Portion of it ? For by my Conduft and Adions 
 1 have not /»/, or forfeited, any Part of what you bellow'd on me. 
 
 C 3 But 
 
22 The Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 But my Heart would -prompt mine Eye 
 
 On feme other Man to jly ; 
 
 Venus, fix mine Eyen f^Jt, 
 
 Or if not, give me all that I Jhall fee at lafi. 
 
 Evad. So, leave me now. 
 
 Dula. Nay, we muft fee you l^d. 
 
 ylfp. Madam, Good-night; may all the Marriage-joys, 
 That longiiig Maids imagine in their Beds, 
 Prove fo unto you ; may no Difcontent 
 Grow 'twixt your Love and you ! But, if there do. 
 Enquire of me, and I will guide your Moan j 
 Teacli you an artificial Way to grieve, 
 To keep your Sorrow waking. Love your Lord 
 No worfe than I ; but if you love fo well, 
 Alas, you may dilpleafe him j fo did L 
 This is the laft time you fhall look on me : 
 Ladies, farewel ; as loon as I am dead. 
 Come all, and watch one Night about my Hearfe j 
 Bring each a mournful Story, and a Tear, 
 To offer at it when I go to Earth. 
 (21) With flatt'ring Ivy clafp my Coffin round; 
 Write on my Brow my Fortune ; let my Bier 
 Be borne by Virgins that fliall fing, by courfe. 
 The Truth of Maids, and Perjuries of Men. 
 
 Evad. Alas, I pity thee. [Exit Evadnc. 
 
 Omnes. Madam, Good-night. 
 
 I Lady. Come, we'll let in the Bridegroom. 
 
 Vula. Where's my Lord? 
 
 1 Lady. Here, take this Light. 
 
 Enter Amintor. 
 Dula. He will find her in the dark. 
 
 (21) With flatt'ring Ivy'] It is the Sufpicion of the ingem'ou» 
 Mr. Symp/on to me, that the Poets'Word here mighthave htzn,fio'w'ring: 
 A very pretty, as well as proper, Epithet. But as it has not the 
 Countenance of any of the Copies, I only mention it as a Conjefiure ; 
 and have not ventured to diiturb the Text. And, indeed, AJpatia'% 
 Idea feems to be, that the Flattery of the Ivy, in its Quality of clafp- 
 ing whatever it is placed to, refembles the flattering and deceitful Em- 
 braces of falfe Men. For all her Sentiments arife from the Subjeft of 
 Sorrow and Difappointmcnt. 
 
 I Lady, 
 
7^^ Maid's Tragedy, 23 
 
 I Lady. Your Lady's fcarce a-Bed yet, you muil help 
 
 /Ifp. Go, and be happy in your Lady's Love ; [her. 
 May all the Wrongs, that you have done to me. 
 Be utterly forgotten in my Death ! 
 I'll trouble you no more ; yet I will take 
 A parting Kifs, and will not be deny'd. 
 You'll come, my Lord, and fee the Virgins weep 
 When I am laid in Earth, though you yourfelf 
 Can know no Pity. Thus I wind myfelf 
 Into this Willow Garland, and am prouder 
 That I was once your Love, (though now refus'd) 
 Than to have had another true to me. 
 ^o with my Prayers I leave you, and mud try 
 Some yet unprafbis'd Way to grieve and die. 
 
 Dula. Come, Ladies, will you go .'' {Exit Alpatia. 
 
 Omnes. Good-night, my Lord. 
 
 Amin. Much Happinefs unto you all ! [Exeunt Ladies. 
 I did that Lady Wrong : Methinks, I feel 
 A Grief flioot fuddenly through all my Veins j 
 Mine Eyes rain ; this is ftrange at fuch a Time. 
 It was the King firft mov'd me to't, but he 
 Has not my Will in keeping. — W^hy do I 
 Perplex myfelf thus ? Sometliing whimpers me, 
 Go not to Bed. My Guilt is not fo great 
 As mine own Confcience (too fenfible) 
 Would make me think ; I only brake a Promife, 
 And 'twas the King inforc'd me : Timorous Flelh, 
 Why lliak'ft thou fo } away, my idle Fears ! 
 
 Enter Evadne, from the Bedchamber, 
 
 Yonder is fhe, the Luftre of whofe Eye 
 Can blot away the fad Remembrance 
 Of all thefe things : Oh, my Evadne., fpare 
 That tender Body, let it not take Cold ; 
 The Vapours of the Night fhall not fall here. 
 To Bed, my Love ; Hymen will punifh us 
 For being flack Performers of his Rites. 
 Cam 'ft thou to call me ? Evad. No. 
 
 Amin. Come, come, my Love, 
 And let us lofe ourfelves to one another, 
 
 C 4 Why 
 
24 2^^ Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 Why art thou up fo long ? Evad. I am not well. 
 
 Amin. To Bed then •, let me wind thee in thefe Arms, 
 'Till I have baniih'd Sicknels. Evad. Good my Lord, 
 I cannot fleep. Amin. Evadne, we will watch, 
 I mean no fleeping. Evad. I'll not go to Bed. 
 
 Amin. I prethee, do. Evad. I will not for the World. 
 
 Amin. Why, my dear Love P 
 
 Evad. Why ? 1 have fworn, I will not, 
 
 Amin. Sworn! Evad. Ay. 
 
 Amin. How? fworn, Evad?je? 
 
 Evad. Yes, fworn, Amintor, and will fwear again. 
 If you will wifh to hear me. 
 
 Amin. To whom have you fworn this ? 
 
 Evad. If I ihould name him, the Matter were not great. 
 
 Amin. Come, this is but the Coynefs of a Bride. 
 
 Evad. The Coynefs of a Bride ? Amin. How prettily 
 That Frown becomes thee ! Evad. Do you like it fo ? 
 
 Amin. Thou canfl: not drefs thy Face in fuch a Look, 
 But I Ihall like it. Evad. What Look will like you beft ? 
 
 Amin. Why do you ask .'* 
 
 Evad. That I may fhew you one lefs pleafing to you. 
 
 Amin. How's that ? 
 
 Evad. That I may Ihew you one lefs pleafing to you. 
 
 Amin. I prethee, put thy Jefts in milder Looks. 
 It fhews as thou wert angry. Evad. So, perhaps, 
 I am indeed. Amin. Why, who has done thee Wrong? 
 Name me the Man, and by thyfelf I fwear, 
 Thy yet unconquer'd klf, I will revenge thee. 
 
 Evad. Now I fhall try thy Truth ; if thou doft love me. 
 Thou weigh'ft not any thing compar'd with me: 
 Life, Honour, Joys eternal, all Delights 
 This World can yield, or hopeful People feign 
 Are in the Life to come, are light as Air 
 To a true Lover when his Lady frowns. 
 And bids him do this : Wilt thou kill this Man ^ 
 Swear, my Amintor, and I'll kifs the Sin 
 Off from tliy Lips. Amin. I will not fwear, fweet Love, 
 Till I do know the Caufe. Evad. I wou'd, thou woud'ft j 
 Why, it is thou that wrong'ft me •, I hate thee j 
 
 Thow fhould'ft have kill'd thyfelf 
 
 Amin, 
 
n^e Maid*s Tragedy] 25 
 
 Amin. If I fhould know that, I fhould quickly kill 
 The Man you hated, Evad. Know it then, and do't. 
 
 Amin. Oh, no ; what Look foe'er thou fhalt put on 
 To try my Faith, I fhall not think thee falfe ; 
 I cannot find one Blemifli in thy Face, 
 Where Falfhood fhould abide. Leave, and to Bed ; 
 If you have fworn to any of the Virgins, 
 That were your old Companions, to preferve 
 Your Maiden-head a Night, it may be done • 
 Without this means. (22) Evad. A Maiden-head, Amintor, 
 At my Years ? Amin. Sure, (he raves ; this cannot be 
 Thy natural Temper ; fhall I call thy Maids ? 
 Either thy healthful Sleep hath left thee long. 
 Or elfe fome Fever rages in thy Blood. 
 
 Evad. Neither, Amintor ; think you, I am mad, 
 Becaufe I fpeak the Truth? Amin. Is this the Truth ? 
 Will you not lie with me to Night ? Evad. To Night ? 
 You talk, as if you thought I would hereafter. 
 
 Amin. Hereafter ? Yes, I do. Evad. You are deceiv'd. 
 Put off Amazement, and with Patience mark 
 What I fhall utter j for the Oracle 
 Knows nothing truer ; 'tis not for a Night, 
 Or two, that 1 forbear thy Bed, but ever. 
 
 Amin. I dream •, awake, Amintor \ 
 
 Evad. You hear right ; 
 I fooner will find out the Beds of Snakes, 
 And with my youthful Blood warm their cold Flefh, 
 Letting them curl themfelves about my Limbs, 
 Than fleep one Night with thee ; this is not feign'd, 
 Nor founds it hke the Coynefs of a Bride. 
 
 (23) Amin. Is Flefli fo earthy to endure all this .^ 
 
 Arc 
 
 (22) ' A Maiden-head, Amintor, 
 
 At my Tears?'} Mr. Rymer, (in his fragidles of the laft Age 
 ronjsder'd and examined by the Praftice of the Ancients) not without 
 fuftice exclaims againft the Effrontery and Impudence of Evadne's 
 Charr.£ler. But as the Colouring of his critical Refledlions is gene- 
 rally To grofs and glaring, I {hall refer thofe Readers, who have Cu- 
 rioiity enough, to his Book, without quoting from him on this Subjeft. 
 
 (23) Is TIeJh fo earthly] Tho' all the Copies agree in this Reading, 
 I dare fay, the Pccts' \Vord was, earthy. The iirll only comprehends 
 
 this 
 
26 T^e Maid^s Tragedy. 
 
 Are thefe the Joys of Marriage ? Hymen, keep 
 
 This Story (that will make fliccceding Youth 
 
 Negle(5t thy Ceremonies) from all Ears : 
 
 Let it not rife up for thy Shame and mine 
 
 To After-ages ; we will fcorn thy Laws, 
 
 If thou no better blefs them ; touch the Heart 
 
 Of her that thou haft fent me, or the World 
 
 Shall know this ; not an Altar then will fmoak 
 
 In Praife of thee ; we will adopt us Sons ; 
 
 Then Virtue fhall inherit, and not Blood. 
 
 If we do luft, we'll take the next we meet. 
 
 Serving our felves as other Creatures do -, 
 
 And never take Note of the Female more. 
 
 Nor of her IfTue. — — I do rage in vain. 
 
 She can but jeaft ; Oh ! pardon me, my Love ; 
 
 So dear the Thoughts are that I hold of thee. 
 
 That I muft break forth : Satisfy my Fear •, 
 
 It is a Pain, beyond the Pain of Death, 
 
 To be in Doubt ; confirm it with an Oath, 
 
 If this be true. Evad. Do you invent the Form : 
 
 Let there be in it all the binding Words 
 
 Devils and Conjurers can put together. 
 
 And I will take it. I have fworn before. 
 
 And here, by all things holy, do again. 
 
 Never to be acquainted with thy Bed. 
 
 Is your Doubt over now ^ 
 
 Amin. I know too much ; 'would, I had doubted flill ! 
 Was ever fuch a Marriage-Night as this ! 
 You Pow*rs above, if you did ever mean 
 Man (hould be us'd thus, you have thought a Way 
 How he may bear himfeJf, and fave his Honour ; 
 Inftrud me in it -, for to my dull Eyes 
 There is no Mean, no moderate Courfe to run ; 
 I muft live fcorn'd, or be a Murderer : 
 
 tKis Idea, belonging to Earth, mortal : The other takes in a farther 
 Scnfe; Is Flefh fo entirely made up of that grofs Element, Earth, 
 that it participates of no Spirit, no enlivening Fire, to kindle a Re- 
 fentraent, a Feeling of Injuries? 
 
 Is 
 
7'he Maid's Tragedy, 27 
 
 (24) Is there a third ? Why is this Night fo calm ? 
 Why docs not Heaven fpeak in Thunder to us. 
 And drown her Voice ? 
 
 Evad. This Rage will do no Good. 
 
 Amin. Evadne, hear me ; Thou haft ta*en an Oath, 
 But fuch a raih one, that, to keep it, were 
 Worfe than to fwear it ; call it back to thee ; 
 (Such Vows, as that, never afcend the Heav*n ; ) 
 A Tear or two will wafh it quite away. 
 Have Mercy on my Youth, my hopeful Youth, 
 If thou be pitiful ; for (without Boaft) 
 This Land was proud of me : what Lady was there. 
 That Men call'd fair and virtuous in this Ifle, 
 That would have fhun'd my Love ? It is in thee 
 To make me hold this Worth ■ Oh ! we vain Men, 
 That truft out all our Reputation, 
 To reft upon the weak and yielding Hand 
 Of feeble Woman ! But thou art not Stone ; 
 Thy Flefti is foft, and in thine Eyes doth dwell 
 The Spirit of Love j thy Heart cannot be hard. 
 Come, lead me from the bottom of Defpair, 
 To all the Joys thou haft ; I know, thou wilt ; 
 And make me careful, left the fudden Change 
 O'ercome my Spirits. Evad. When I call back this Oath, 
 The Pains of Hell environ me ! Amin. I fleep. 
 And am too temperate ; come Thou to Bed, 
 Or by thofe Hairs, which, if thou had'ft a Soul 
 Like to thy Locks, were Threads for Kings to wear 
 About their Arms — Evad. Why, fo, perhaps, they are. 
 
 Amin. I'll drag thee to my Bed, and make thy Tongue 
 Undo this wicked Oath, or on thy Flefti 
 ril print a thoufand Wounds to let out Life. 
 
 Evad. 1 fear thee not, do what thou dar'ft to me ; 
 
 (24) IV^ is this Nighf/o calm? 
 
 Why does not He a-ven fpeak in Thunder to us'\ The Poets fcem 
 manifeftly to have had in their Eye this Paffage of Seneca^ in his 
 mppolytus. 
 
 ■ Magne Regno tor Dei*m, 
 
 Tarn kntus audis Scelera ? tarn lentui •videi f 
 Ecquando fa'vd Fulmen emittes manUf 
 vji nunc ferenum eft ? 
 
 Ev'ry 
 
2 8 l%e Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 Ev*ry ill-founding Word, or threatning Look, 
 Thou fhew'ft to me, will be reveng'd at full, 
 yimin. It will not, fure, Evadnc ? ■ 
 Evad. Do not you hazard that. 
 ^/Imin. Ha* you your Champions ? 
 Evad. Alas, Jmintor, think 'ft thou, I forbear 
 To fleep with thee, becaufe I have put on 
 A Maiden's Striclnefs? Look upon thcfe Cheeks, 
 And thou fhalt find the hot and rifing Blood 
 Unapt for fuch a Vow. No, in this Heart 
 There dwells as much Defire, and as much Will 
 To put th* wifh'd Ad: in praflice, as e'er yet 
 Was known to Woman, and they have been fliown 
 Both •, but it was the Folly of thy Youth 
 To think this Beauty (to what Land foe'er 
 It fhall be call'd) fhall ftoop to any Second. 
 I do enjoy the beft, and in that height 
 Have fworn to ftand or die : You guefs the Man. 
 
 Jmin. No ; let me know the Man, that wrongs me fo. 
 That I may cut his Body into Motes, 
 And fcatter it before the Northern Wind. 
 Evad. You dare not ftrike him. 
 j^min. Do not wrong me fo ; 
 Yes, if his Body were a pois'nous Plant, 
 That it were Death to touch, I have a Soul 
 Will throw me on him. Evad. Why, 'tis the King. 
 yimin. The King ! 
 
 Evad. What will you do now? Amin. It is not the King. 
 Evad.What did he make this Match for, duWJmintor! 
 Amin. Oh ! thou haft nam'd a Word, that wipes away 
 All Thoughts revengeful -, in that Sacred Word, 
 The King, there lies a l^rror -, what frail Man 
 Dares lift his Hand againft it ? Let the Gods 
 Speak to him when they pleafe ; *till when, let us 
 
 Suffer, and wait. 
 
 Evad. Why fhould you fill yourfelf fo full of Heat, 
 And hafte fo to my Bed .'' I am no Virgin. 
 
 Amin. What Devil put it in thy Fancy then 
 To marry me ? Evad. Alas, I muft have one 
 To father Children, and to bear the Name 
 
 Of 
 
*The Maid's Tragedy, 59 
 
 Of Flusband to me, that my Sin may be 
 
 More honourable. Amin. What a llrange Thing am I ? 
 
 Evad. A miferable one -, one that myfelf 
 Am forry for. Amin. Why, Oiew it then in this j 
 If thou haft Pity, though thy Love be none. 
 Kill me \ and all true Lovers, that Ihall live 
 In After-ages croft in their Defires, 
 Shall blefs thy Memory, and call thee good ; 
 Becaufe fuch Mercy in thy Heart was found, 
 To rid a lingring Wretch. Evad. I muft have one 
 To fill thy Room again, if thou wert dead, 
 Elfe, by this Nighr, I would : I pity thee. 
 
 Amin. Thefe ftrange and fudden Injuries have fall*n 
 So thick upon me, that I lofe all Senfe 
 Of what they are. Methinks, 1 am not wrong'd ; 
 Nor it is aught, if from the cenfuring World 
 
 I can but hide it Reputation, 
 
 Thou art a Word, no more : But thou haft ftjown 
 An Impudence fo high, that to the World, 
 I fear, thou wilt betray or ftiame thyfelf. 
 
 E'-cad. To cover Shame, I took thee ; never fear, 
 That I would blaze myfelf. 
 
 Amin. Nor let the King 
 Know, I conceive he wrongs me ; then mine Honour 
 Will thruft me into Adion, that my Flelh 
 Could bear with Patience ; and it is fome Eafe 
 To me in thefe Extreams, that I knew this 
 Before I touch'd thee ; elfe, had all the Sins 
 Of Mankind ftood betwixt me and the King, 
 I had gone through 'em to his Heart and thine. 
 (25) I have left one Defire ; ('tis not his Crown 
 
 Shall 
 
 (25) I ha've \o^ one Defire, ''tis not his Cronun 
 
 S'-all buy me to thy Bed : No~m Irefol<ve 
 
 He has dijhonour'd thee ; ] In this mangled Condition does this 
 Paffage (land in all the Vulgar Editions. But what one Defire was it, 
 yi\i\c\\ Amintor \^2idL. lofi ? The old ^««r/o of 16 19 reads, IhaiieXtix. 
 one Defire, Sec. This is the true Reading. J have reftified the 
 Pointing, and now I muft explain the Senfe of the Paffage. " I have 
 " one Defire /e/t; (fays Jmintor,) for it is not his Crown fhould buy 
 *• me to thy Bed, now 1 refol've, (i. e. am refolv'd, afcertain'd,) 
 *J^ that he has difhonour'd Thee i " ijc. But what then was this De- 
 fire 
 
^ Hoe Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 Shall buy me to thy Bed, now I refolve, * 
 
 He has difhonour'd thee \ ) give me thy Hand, 
 
 Be careful of thy Credit, and fin clofe ; 
 
 'Tis all I wifh. Upon thy Chamber-floor 
 
 I'll reft to Night, that Morning- Vifiters 
 
 May think, we did as married People ufe. 
 
 And, pr'ythee, fmile upon me when they come. 
 
 And feem to toy, as if thou hadft been pleas'd 
 
 With what we did. Evad. Fear not, I will do this. 
 
 Amin. Come, let us pradife ; and as wantonly 
 As ever loving Bride and Bridegroom met. 
 Let's laugh and enter here. Evad. I am content. 
 
 Amin. Down all the Swellings of my troubled Heart ! 
 When we walk thus intwin'd, let all Eyes fee 
 If ever Lovers better did agree. {Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE, an Apartment in Calianax'j Houfe. 
 
 Enter Afpatia, Antiphila and Olympias. 
 A[f. Away, you are not fad, force it no further ; 
 Good Gods, how well you look ! fuch a full Colour 
 Young bafliful Brides put on : Sure, you are new married. 
 Ant. Yes, Madam, to your Grief. 
 Aff. Alas ! poor Wenches. 
 Go learn to love firft, learn to lofe yourfelves ; 
 (26) Learn to be flatter'd, and believe, and blefs 
 
 The 
 
 lire left him? The Lines immediately following put it out of dl 
 Doubt. 
 
 •■ Give me thy Hand, 
 
 Be careful of thy Credit, and Jin clofe', 
 
 "Tis all I 'wijh. 
 (26) Learn to he flatter'' d, andhelie'ut, and hie ft 
 
 The double Tongue that did it ; 
 
 Make a Faith out of the Miracles of ancient Lovers, 
 
 Did you ne^er love yet. Wenches? fpeak Olympias, 
 
 Such as fpeak Truth and dyd in't. 
 
 And, like me, believe all faithful, and he miferable ; 
 
 Thou haji an eajy Temper, ft for Stamp. ] In this mangled 
 Condition, both as to Pointing, Detriment of iJenfe, Defeft of Metre, 
 and Confufion in the Order of the Lines, has this Paffage ftood in all 
 the Editions. The Readers will at one Glance fee, that I have fully 
 cured it in all thefe Particulars ; and I ought to confefs, to the Praife 
 
 of 
 
7^^ Maid's Tragedy. 31 
 
 The double Tongue that did it ; make a Faith 
 
 Out of the Mii-acles ot ancient Lovers ; 
 
 Such as fpake Truth and dy'd in't 5 and, hke me, 
 
 Beheve ail faithful, and be miferable. 
 
 — Did you ne'er love yet, Wenches? Speak, Olympias-, 
 Thou haft an eafy Temper, fit for Stamp. 
 
 Olymp. Never. /Ifp. Nor you, Antiphila? 
 
 Ant. Nor I. 
 
 Afp. Then, my good Girls, be more than Women, wife. 
 At leaft, be more than I was ; and, be fure. 
 You credit any thing the light gives Light to 
 Before a Man ; rather believe, the Sea 
 Weeps for the ruin'd Merchant, when he roars ; 
 Rather, the '"■"ind courts but the pregnant Sails, 
 When the ftrong Cordage cracks ; rather, the Sun 
 Comes but to kifs the Fruit in wealthy Autumn, 
 "When all falls blafted. If you needs muft love, 
 (Forc'd by ill Fate) take to your maiden Bofoms 
 (27) Two dead-cold Afpicks, and of them make Lovers j 
 They cannot flatter, nor forfwear ; one Kifs 
 Makes a long Peace for all ; but Man, bafe Man, 
 Oh, that beaft Man ! — Come, let's be fad, my Girls ; 
 That Down-caft of thine Eye, Olympias^ 
 Shews a fine Sorrow; mark,^ Antiphila ; 
 Juft fuch another was the Nymph Oenone^ 
 When Paris brought home Helen : Now, a Tear,— 
 And then thou art a Piece expreffing fully 
 The Carthage Queen, when from a cold Sea-Rock, 
 Full with her Sorrow, fhe ty'd faft her Eyes 
 To the fair Trojan Ships-, and, having loft them, 
 Juft as thine Eyes do, down ftole a Tear ; Antiphila., 
 What would this Wench do, if fhe were Afpatia ? 
 Here fhe would ftand, 'till fome more pitying God 
 Tum'd her to Marble. 'Tis enough, my Wench ; 
 
 of Mr. Sewoartts, Sagacity, that he flarted the fame Emendation in 
 every point with me. 
 
 (27) 1'wo dead cold A/picks'] Thefe muft not be two diflinft Epi- 
 thets, but one compound Adjediive with an Hyphen, dead-cold, i. e. 
 cold as Death: for if the Afpicks were dead, how could »hc Kifs of 
 them do any hurt ? Here, again, Mr. Scjuard agreed with me in the 
 Alteration made. 
 
 Shew 
 
32' n:>e Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 Shew me the piece of Needlework you wrought. 
 
 Ant. Of Ariadne., Madam ? Aj'p. Yes, that Piece. 
 This fhould be Thefeus ; h'as a coz'ning Face ; 
 You meant him for a Man. Ant. He was fo. Madam. 
 
 Afp. Why, then 'tis well enough j — Never look back. 
 You have a full Wind, and a falle Heart, Thefeus j 
 Does not the Story fay, his Keel was fplit. 
 Or his Mafls fpent, or fome kind Rock or other 
 Met with his VefTel ? Ant. Not as I remember. 
 
 Afp. It Ihould ha' been fo; could the Gods know this. 
 And none of all tlieir number raife a Storm ? 
 But they are all as ill. Ay, this falfc Smile 
 Was well expreft •, juft fuch another caught me ; 
 (2S) You fhall not go on fo, Antiphila ; 
 In this Place work a Quickfand, 
 And over it a Ihallow fmiling Water, , 
 And his Ship ploughing it ; and then a Fear : [Story. 
 Do that Fear bravely. Wench. Ant. 'Twill wrong the 
 
 Afp. 'Twill make the Story, wrong'd by wanton Poets, 
 Live long and be believ'd. But where's the Lady .'' 
 
 Ant. There, Madam. Afp. Oh fie, you have mifs'd it 
 Antiphila, you are much miftaken. Wench; [here, 
 
 Thefe Colours are not dull and pale enough. 
 To fhew a Soul fo full of Mifery 
 As this fad Lady's was ; do it by mc. 
 Do it again by me, the loll Afpatia ; 
 And you fhall find all true, (29) but the wild Ifland. 
 (30) Suppofe, I ftand upon the Sea-beach now, 
 
 Mine 
 
 (28) Toujhall not go fo,'] This fhould have been printed as a diflindl 
 Verfe, had not the Omiflion of a Particle fpoil'd both Senfeand Mea- 
 fure, which are eafily reftored. Mr. SeivarJ. 
 
 (29) i>ut the nxild IJIand.'\ Ariadne, the Daughter of 
 
 Minos, King of Crete, 'tis well known, was defperately in Love with 
 Thefeus. She by the help of a Ciue extricated him from the Laby- 
 rinth to which he was confined ; and embark'd with him on his Re- 
 turn for Athens: But he ungeneroufly gave her the Drop on the Shore 
 of the Ifland Naxos. Afpatia fays, her Cafe is in every Particular 
 fimilar, except as to the wild Ifland. 
 
 (30) Suppofe, I fland'l This is one of thofe PaflTages, where the 
 Poets, rapt into a glorious Enthufiafm, foar on the rapid Wings of 
 Fancy. Enthufiafm I would call the very Efre;ice of Poetry, iince, 
 without it, neither the happy Conduct of the Fable, the Juftnefs of 
 
 Characters 
 
The Maid's Tragedy. ZZ 
 
 Mine Arms tlius, and mine Hair blown with the Wind, 
 Wild as that Defait ; and let all about me 
 
 (3 1) Be Teachers of my Story -, do my Face 
 (If thou hadft ever Feeling of a Sorrow) 
 Thus, thus, Anti-phila ; ftrive to make me look 
 Like Sorrow's Monument-, and the Trees about me, 
 Let them be dry and leafelefs j let the Rocks 
 Groan with continual Surges, and behind me 
 Make all a Defolation j fee, fee. Wenches, 
 
 (32) A miferablc Life of this poor Pidure. 
 Olym. Dear Madam ! 
 
 Afp. I have done, fit down, and let us 
 Upon that Point fix all our Eyes, that Point there ; 
 Make a dull Silence, 'till you fcel a Sadnefs 
 Give us new Souls. 
 
 Enter Calianax. 
 
 Cal. The King may do this, and he may not do it ; 
 My Child is wrong'd, difgrac'd. — Well, how now, Huf- 
 
 wives ? 
 What, at your Eafe ? Is this a time to fit ftill ? 
 Up, you young lazy Whores, up, or I'll fwinge you. 
 
 Olym. Nay, good my Lord. 
 
 Cal. You'll lie down fhortly ; — get you In, and work ; 
 
 (33) What, are you grown io refty ? you want Heats.'' 
 
 We 
 
 Chara'(Elers or Sentiments, nor the utmoft Harmony of Metre, can al- 
 together form the Poet. It is the Frequency of fuch noble Flights as 
 thefc, and their amazing Rapidity, that fets the immortal Shakefpeare 
 above all other Dramatick Poets ; and fufFers none of our own Na- 
 tion in any Degree to approach him, but Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 
 Mr. Seaward. 
 
 (31) 7ell, that I am forfaken •,'\ This I fufpefl to be a fophifticated 
 Reading; and, very probably, from the Players. The oldell Edition, 
 
 in 1619, has it; Be Tczxa of my Story This Reading neither 
 
 Senie, nor Metre, will allow of Cut I doubt not, but the Emenda- 
 tion, which I have given, retrieves the Authors' true Words and Mean- 
 ing ; Be Teachers of my Story; i. e. Let every thing about me explain 
 the Story of my Misfortunes. 
 
 (32) A mij'crable Life of this poor Pidure.'] 1. e. See in Me this 
 Pifture to the Life. 
 
 (33) IVhat are ycu gro-iun fo refy? Ycu ivant Ears, 
 
 IFe fmll have fame of the Court Boys do that Office] Thus 
 Vo L I. D the 
 
34 ^^ Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 We fhall have fome of the Court-Boys heat you fhortly. 
 
 j^N/. My Lord, we do no niore than we are charg'd : 
 It is the Lady's Pleafure wc be thus 
 In Grief-, fhe is forlliken. 
 
 Cal. There's a Rogue too, 
 A young dilTembJing Slave j well, get you in, 
 I'll have a Bout with that Boy-, 'tis high time 
 Now to be valiant -, I confefs, my Youth 
 Was never prone that way. What, made an Afs ? 
 A Court-Stale? Well, I will be valiant. 
 And beat feme Dozen of thefe Whelps i and there's 
 Another of 'em, a trim cheating Soldier, 
 ril maul that Rafcal ; h'as out-brav'd me twice ; 
 
 But now, I thank the Gods, I'm valiant 
 
 Go, get you in ; I'll take a Courfe with all.' [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 SCENE, an j^parfment in Amintor'j Hoiifc. 
 Enter Cleon, Strato, and Diphilus. 
 
 Cle. 'y O U R Sifter is not up yet. 
 
 ^ Diph. Oh, Brides muft take their Morning's Reft, 
 The Night is troublefome. Stra. But not tedious. 
 
 Diph. What odds, he has not my Sifter's Maidenhead 
 to Night } 
 
 Stra. None ; it's odds againft any Bridegroom living, 
 he ne'er gets it while he lives. 
 
 Diph. You're merry with my Sifter, you'll pleafe to 
 allow me the fame Freedom with your Mother. 
 
 the FoA'o Edition of 1679 exhibits the Text. The ?>uarto of 1630 
 and 1638. have it, Ton ^ant heares. — But what t>fic€, in the Name 
 of Nonlenfe, were the Court-Boys to do for thefe young Wer.ches ? 
 Or what Confonance is there betwixt being rcfly, and ixanting Ears? 
 The old Man, in liis Allufion, compares them to lazy, rejly Mares, 
 that want to be rid fo many Heats : and this was the Office, that the 
 young, wanton. Courtiers were to do tor them. I have retriev'd the 
 true Reading from the old ii^mrto's of 16 19, and 1622. 
 
 Stra. 
 
The Maid's Tragedy, 35 
 
 ^tra. She's at your Service. 
 
 Biph. Then flie's merry enough of herfelf, Ihe needs 
 no Tickling. Knock at the Door. 
 
 Stra. We fhall interrupt them. 
 
 Biph. No matter, they have the Year before them. 
 Good-morrow, Sifter-, fpare yourfelf to Day, 
 The Night will come again. 
 
 Enter Amintor. 
 
 Amin. Who's there, my Brother? I am no readier yet 3 
 Your Sifter's but now up. Biph. You look as ^ ou 
 Had loft your Eyes to Night j I think, you ha' not flept; 
 
 Amin. I'faitJi, I have not. Diph. You have done bet- 
 ter then. 
 
 Arain. We ventur'd for a Boy ; (34) when he is Twelve, 
 He fliall command againft the Foes of Rhodes. 
 Shall we be merry ? 
 
 Stra. You cannot j you want Sleep. Amin. 'Tis true ;— ' 
 but Ihe, 
 As if fhe had drunk Lethe., or had made [A/ide, 
 
 Even with Heav'n, did fetch fo ftill a Sleep, 
 So fweet and found Diph. What's that ? 
 
 yimin. Your Sifter frets this Morning, and does turn 
 Her Eyes upon me, as People on their Headfman j 
 She docs fo chafe, and kifs, and chafe again. 
 And clap my Cheeks -, ftie's in another World. 
 
 Diph. Then I had loft ; I was about to lay. 
 You had not got her Maiden-head to Night. 
 
 Amin. Ha! 
 He does not mock me ; you had loft, ind^^ed ; 
 I do not ufe to bungle. Cleo. You do d^fcrve her. 
 
 Amin. I laid my Lips to hers, and that wild Breath, 
 That was fo rude and rough 10 me laft Night, 
 
 (34) -when he is tiuel've, • 
 
 He Jhall command agaiJi ft the Foes of Rhodes. 
 
 Stra. Tou cannot; you =voant SJeep.^ In this ftupid Manner, from 
 fcmcwhat before, and ever fmce, the Year i6ro. has the Text flood. 
 Strata makes a direft Anfwer to 'Something, without any previous 
 Quellion ftarted, or Point propounded. The Hctniftich, which I have 
 redored from the three el^eft ^iartu'%, makes, what he replies to, 
 appofite and fenfible. 
 
 D 2 Was 
 
36 The Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 Was fwett as Jpril\ I'll be guilty too, [JJIde. 
 
 If thcfe be the Effe6ts. 
 
 Enter Melantius. 
 
 Mel. Good day, Jmintor, for to me the Name 
 Of Brother is too diftant ; we are Friends, 
 And that is nearer. Amin. Dear Melantius ! 
 Let me behold thee ; Is it poffible . 
 
 Mel. What fudden Gaze is this ? 
 
 yfw/«, 'Tis wond'rous ilrange. 
 
 Mel. Why does thine Eye defire fo flrici: a View 
 Of that it knows fo well ? There's nothing here 
 That is not thine, yfmm. I wonder much, Alelantius, 
 To fee thofe noble Looks, that make me think 
 How virtuous thou art ; and on the fudden 
 ' Tis ftrange to me, thou fnouldft have Worth and Honour-, 
 Or not be bafe, and falfe, and treacherous, 
 
 And every 111. But Mel. Stay, ftay, my Friend; 
 
 I fear, this Sound will not become our Loves -, 
 
 {t^c^) No more embrace me. Jmint. Oh, miftake me jnot -, 
 
 I know thee to be full of all thofe Deeds, 
 
 That we frail Men call good ; but by the Courfe 
 
 Of Nature thou fhou'dft be as quickly chang'd 
 
 As are the Winds ; difTembling as the Sea, 
 
 That now wears Brows as fmooth as Virgins* be. 
 
 Tempting the Merchant to invade his Face ; 
 
 And in an Hour calls his Billows up. 
 
 And (hoots 'em at the Sun, deftroying all 
 
 He carries on him. — O, how near am I [JJtde. 
 
 To utter my fick Thoughts ! Mel. But why, my Friend, 
 
 Should I be fo by Nature ? Amin. I have wed 
 
 Thy Sifter, who hath virtuous Thoughts enough 
 
 For one whole Family ; and it is flrange, 
 
 (31;) No more, embrace me."] Melatitius is difgufled at Amintor'?, 
 odd Behaviour, which, not knowing the Source of his DiTorder, he 
 cannot account for : but he thinks, the Tencur of A}nintor''% Words 
 does not become their wonted Friendfliip : He, therefore, feems to de- 
 mand a Truce of their ufual Intimacies, till his Sufpicions are clear'd 
 up. This miftaken Comma remov'd, we recover Melantius''^ intend- 
 ed Referve ; and Amintor'i fubfequent Apc^ogy accounts for the Nc- 
 ceiTity of it. 
 
 That 
 
Tlje Maid\ Tragedy, 37 
 
 That you fhould feel no Want. 
 
 Mel. Believe me, this Complement's too cunning for me. 
 
 Diph. What fhould I be then by the Courfe of Nature, 
 They having Both robb'd me of {o much Virtue ? 
 
 Stra. O call the Bride, my Lord Amintci\ that we may 
 fee her bludi, and turn her Eyes down j it is the prettieft 
 Sport. 
 
 Am'm. Eva due! Evad. My Lord! [JVithin. 
 
 Amin. Come forth, my Love; 
 Your Brothers do attend to wifh you Joy. 
 
 Evad. I am not ready yet. Amin. Enough, enough. 
 
 Evad. They'll mock me. 
 
 Amin, Faith, thou (halt come in. 
 
 Enter Evadne. 
 
 Mel. Good-morrow, Sifter ; he, that underftands 
 Whom you have wed, need not to wilh you Joy : 
 You have enough; take heed, you be not proud. 
 
 T)iph. O Sifter, what have you done ! 
 
 Evad. I done ! why, what have I done .' 
 
 Stra. My Lord Amintor fwears, you are no Maid now. 
 
 Evad. Pufh! Stra. I'faith, he does. 
 
 Evad. I knew, I fhou'd be mockt. 
 
 Biph. With a Truth. 
 
 Evad. If 'twere to do again, in faith, I would not marry. 
 
 Amin. Nor I, by Heav'n. {^Afide, 
 
 Diph. Sifter, Dula fwears, fhe heard you cry two 
 Rooms off. 
 
 Evad. Fie, how you talk ! Diph. Let*s fee you walk. 
 
 Evad. By my troth, you're fpoil'd. Mel. Amintor ! 
 
 Amin. Ha! Mel. Thou art fad. 
 
 Amin. Who, I ? I thank you for that. 
 Shall Diphilus., thou, and I, fing a Catch ? Mel. How! 
 
 Amin. Prithee, let's. Mel. Nay, that's too much the 
 other way. 
 
 Amin. I am fo lightned with my Happinefs : 
 How doft thou. Love ? kifs me. 
 
 Evad. I cannot love you, you tell Tales of me. 
 
 Amin. Nothing but what becomes us. Gentlemen, 
 'Would, you had all fuch Wives, and all the World, 
 
 D 3 That 
 
38 He Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 That I might be no Wonder ! You're all fad ; 
 What, do you envy me ? I walk, methinks, 
 On Water, and ne'er fink, I am fo light. 
 
 Mel. 'Tis well, you are fo. 
 
 Amin. Well.? how can I he other, when flie looks thus ? 
 Is there no Mufick there? let's dance. 
 
 Mel. Why, this is Arrange, Amintcr ! 
 
 Amin, I do not know myfelf ; 
 Yet I could wifh, my Joy were lefs. 
 
 Diph. I'll marry too, if it will make one thus. 
 
 E'vad. Amintor., hark. 
 
 j^min. What fays my Love ? I muft obey. 
 
 Ezad. You do it fcurvily, 'twill be perceiv'd. 
 
 Cle. My Lord, the King is here. 
 
 E;iter King and Lyfippus. 
 
 Jmin. Where? Stra. i\nd his Brother. 
 
 King. Good morrow, all ! 
 Amintor, Joy on Joy fall thick upon thee ! 
 And, Madam, you are alter' d fince I faw you ; 
 I muft falutc you ; you are now another's ; 
 How lik'd you your Night's Reft ? Evad. Ill, Sir. 
 
 Jmin. Ay! 'deed, flie took but little. 
 
 Lyf. You'll let her take more, and thank her too, fhortly. 
 
 Kitig. Amintor^ wert thou truly honeft *till thou 
 Wert married? Amin. Yes, Sir. King. Tell me then, 
 
 how fhews 
 The Sport unto thee ? Amin. Why, well. King. What 
 did you do ? 
 
 Amin. No more, nor lefs, than other Couples ufe i 
 You know, what 'tis; it has but a courfc Name. 
 
 King. (36) But, prithee, I Ihould think, by her black Eye, 
 And her red Cheek, fhe fliould be quick iind ftirring 
 
 In 
 
 (36) But, prithee, IJhould think, &:c.] This King is a very vicious 
 Charafler throughout ; firft, in debauching the Siller of his brave and 
 viftorious General ; and then in marrying her to a yonng Nobleman of 
 great H ^pes, his General's darling Friend ; and forcing him to break 
 a Contrail made with the Daughter o^ his Conftable, or Keeper, of 
 his Citadel. But why is his Charafler fo monllroufly overcharged, 
 that he fhould, to the Impeachment of common Decency, qucllw n 
 theabafcd Husband about his Wife's Complexion and Vigour in con- 
 
'The Maid's Tragedy, 39 
 
 In this fame bufinefs, ha ? 
 
 Amin. 1 cannot tell, I ne'er try'd other, Sir ; 
 But I perceive, ftie is as quick as you delivered. 
 
 King. Well, you will trull me then, Amintor^ to chule 
 A Wife for you again? Amin. No, never, Sir, 
 
 King. Why ? like you this fo ill ? Amin. So well 1 like 
 For this I bow my Knee in Thanks to you, [her. 
 
 And unto Hcav'n will pay my grateful Tribute 
 Hourly ; and do hope we Ihall draw out 
 A long contented Life together here. 
 And die both full of gray Hairs in one Day ; 
 For which the Thanks is yours : But if the Fow'rs, 
 That rule us, pleafc to call her firfl away. 
 Without Pride fpoke, this \\^orId holds not a W^ifc 
 Worthy to take her Room. 
 
 King. I do not like this ; all forbear the Room, 
 
 {^Exeunt Lyf Melan. Cleon, Strat. and Diphilus. 
 But you, Amintor.^ and your Lady. I've fome Speech 
 Thar may concern your after-living well. 
 
 Amin. He will not tell me, he lies with her, if he do, 
 Something heav'nly Hay my Heart, for I Ihall be apt 
 To thrull this Arm of mine to Ads unlawful. 
 
 King. You'll fuffer me to talk with her, Amitttor, 
 And not have jealous Pangs ! 
 
 yhnin. Sir, I dare truft my Wife 
 With whom fhe dares to tallc, and not be jealous. 
 
 King. How do you like Amintor ? Evad. As I did. Sir. 
 
 King. How's that ! Evad. As one, that, to fulfill your 
 Pleafure, 
 I have given Leave to call me W^ife and Love. 
 
 King. I fee, there is no lafting Faith in Sin ; 
 They, that break word with Hcav'n, will break again 
 With all the World, and fo dolt thou with me. 
 
 Evad. How, Sir.'' 
 
 King, This fubtile Woman's Ignorance 
 
 jugal CarefTes; and then withdraw her, out of the Husband's Hear- 
 ing, to fift whether ihe had not fiibnii:ted to let him pay the Rites of 
 sn Husbr.nd ? This is a Piece of Conduft ic> flagrantly imi udent, that, 
 aliandon'd as we may be in private Enormities, even oar worlt Rakes 
 would fliew fo much Defeience to the Fair Sex, as not to let it pafs 
 without a Rebuke. 
 
 D 4 \Nill 
 
40 T^e Maid's 'Tragedy. 
 
 Will not excufe you ; thou hafl taken Oaths 
 So great, methought, they did not wc'l become 
 A Woman's Mouth •, that thou wouldll ne'er enjoy 
 A Man but me. E'vad. I never did fvvear fo ; 
 You do me Wrong. King. The Day and Night have 
 heard it. 
 
 E'vad. I fwore, indeed, that I would never love 
 A Man of lower Place ; but if your Fortune 
 Should throw you from this height, I bad you trull, 
 I would forfake you ; and would bend to him. 
 That won your Throne -, I love with my Ambition, 
 Not with mine Eyes ; but if I ever yet 
 Touch'd any other, Leprofie light here 
 Upon my Face, which for your Royalty 
 I would not ftain ! King. Why, thou difTemblell, and 
 It is in me to punifh thee. E'vad. Why, 'tis in me 
 Then not to love you, which will more afflid: 
 Your Body, than your Punifhmcnt can mine. 
 
 Kiftg. But thou haft let Amintor lie with thee. 
 
 Evad. I ha' not. King. Impudence ! he fays himfelf lb. 
 
 Evad. He lyes. Ki?ig. He does not. 
 
 Evad. By this Light, he does ; 
 Strangely, and bafely, and I'll prove it fo; 
 I did not only fhun him for a Night, 
 But told him, I would never dole with him. 
 
 King. Speak lower ; it is falfe. Evnd. I am no Man 
 To anlwer with a Blow •, or, if I were, 
 You are the King; but urge not, 'tis moft true. 
 
 King. Do not I know the uncontrouled Thouglits 
 That Youth brings with Iiim, when his Blood is high 
 With Expcdlation, and Defire of tliat 
 He long hath waited for.'' Is not his Spirit, 
 Though he be temperate, of a valiant Strain 
 As this our Age hath known .'' What could he do. 
 If fuch a fudden Speech had met his Blood, 
 But ruin thee for ever.'* if he'd not kill'd thee, 
 He could not bear it thus ; he is as we. 
 Or any other wrong'd Man. Evad. It is DiflTembling. 
 
 King. Take him -, farewel ; henceforth I am thy Foe i 
 And what Difgraccs I can blot thee with, look for. 
 
 Erc^d. 
 
"The Maid's Tragedy, 41' 
 
 Evad. Stay, Sir-, Amintor — you Ihallhear; Amintor — > 
 
 Amin. What, my Love ? 
 
 Eijad. Amintor^ thou haft an ingenuous Look, 
 And fhouldft be virtuous ; it amazeth mc. 
 That thou canft make fuch bafe malicious Lyes. 
 
 Amin. What, my dear Wife! Evad. Dear Wife ! Ida 
 defpife thee ; 
 Why, nothing can be bafer, than to fow 
 Diflfention amongft Lovers. Amin. Lovers! who.'* 
 
 Evad. The King and me. Amin. O Heav'n ! 
 
 Evad. Wlio fliould live long, and love without Diftafte, 
 Were it not for fuch Pick thanks as thyfelf ! 
 Did you lie with me ? fwear now, and be punifh*d 
 In Hell for this. Amin, The faithlefs Sin I made 
 To fair Afpatia is not yet reveng'd \ 
 It follows me. I will not lofe a Word 
 To this wild Woman-, but to you, my King, 
 The Anguifh of my Soul thmlts out this Truth, 
 You are a Tyrant -, and not fo much to wrong 
 An honeft Man thus, as to take a Pride 
 In talking with him of it. Evad. Now, Sir, fee, 
 Flow loud this Fellow ly'd. • • [Men 
 
 Amin. You that can know to wrong, fliould know how 
 Muft right themfelves : What Punifhment is due 
 From me to him that fhall abufe my Bed ? 
 It is not Death -, nor can That fatisfy, 
 {^y) Unlefs I fend your Limbs through all the Land, 
 To fhew how nobly I have freed my felf. 
 
 King. Draw not thy Sword j thou know'ft, I cannot fear 
 A Subjed's Hand ; but thou fhalt feel the Weight 
 Of This, if thou doft rage. Amin. The Weight of that? 
 If you have any Worth, for Heav'n's fake, think, 
 I fear not Swords -, for as you are meer Man, 
 I dare as eafily kill you for this Deed, 
 
 (37) Unlefs I fend your Ia^^i through all the Land. '\ To fend Peo- 
 ple's Lives thro' all tiie Land is certainly a very odd and unprefident- 
 fd Exprcflion. The Poets, doubtlefs, muft have wrote, Limbs, i. e. 
 Unless I hew you to pieces, and fend your Quarters, (as is done by 
 Male'adlor.'') thro' the Kingdom, to let your Subjedls know my Inju- 
 ries, and the Juilice of my Revenge : Yuur bare Deaths cannot fr.ti;fy 
 jne. Mr. Symp/on. 
 
 As 
 
42 7^^ Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 (38) As you dare think to do it : but there is 
 
 Divinity about you, tJiat ftrikes dead 
 
 My rifing PafTions ; as you are my King, 
 
 I tall before you, and prcfent my Sword 
 
 To cut mine own Flefh, if it be your Will. 
 
 -Alas! I'm nothing but a Multitude 
 
 Of walking Griefs \ yet, fhould I murther you, 
 
 I might bclore the VVorld take the r.xcufe 
 
 Of Madnefs : for compare my Injuries, 
 
 And they willwell appear too fad a Weight 
 
 For Rcafon to endure-, but fall I firft 
 
 Among my Sorrows, e'er my treacherous Hand 
 
 Touch holy Things ! But why, (I know not what 
 
 I have to fay ; ) why did you chufe out "me 
 
 To make thus wretched ? there were thoufand Fools 
 
 Eafy to work on, and of State enough, 
 
 Within the Ifland. Evad. I would not have a Fool, 
 
 It were no Credit for me. J7mn. Worfe and worfe! 
 
 Thou that dar'ft talk unto thy Husband thus, 
 
 Profcfs thy felf a Whore, and, more than fo, 
 
 Refotve to be fo itill, • it is my Fate 
 
 To bear and bow beneath a thoufand Griefs, 
 
 To keep that little Credit with the World. 
 
 But there were wife ones too, you might have ta'en 
 
 Another. King. No ; for I believe thee Honeft, 
 
 As thou art Valiant. Amin. All the Flappinefs, 
 
 Beftow'd upon me, turns into Difgrace ; 
 
 Gods, take your Honefty again, for I 
 
 Am loaden with it. Good my Lord the King, 
 
 Be private in it. King. Thou may'fl live, Amintor, 
 
 Free as thy King, if thou wilt wink at this ; 
 
 And be a means that we may meet in fecret. 
 
 Ami7i. A Baud! hold, hold, myBreaftj a bitter Curfe 
 
 (38) hut there is 
 
 Di'vtfiity about you, that Jlrika dead 
 
 My rifing PaJJioHSi] So Shakefpeare faid, before our Poet?, in 
 his Hamlet : 
 
 Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear cur Per/on: 
 There's <"uch Divinity doth hed^^c a King, 
 7hat Treafon can hut peep to 'vohat it ivould ; 
 Afu little of its Will. 
 
 Seize 
 
The Maid^s l)^agedy, 43 
 
 Seize me, if I forget not all Refpeds 
 That are religious, on another Word 
 Sounded like that ; and through a Sea of Sins 
 "Will wade to my Revenge, though I fhould call 
 Pains here, and, after Life, upon my Soul ! 
 
 (39) King. Well; I am refolute, you lie not with her; 
 And fo I leave you. \^Exit King. 
 
 Evad. You muft needs be prating ; 
 And, fee, what follows. yf?«/«. * Prithee, vex me not; 
 Leave me-, I am afraid, fome iiidden Start 
 Will pull a Murthcr on me. Evad. I am gone ; 
 I love my Life well. \_Exit Evadne. 
 
 Amin. I hate mine as much. 
 This 'tis to break a Troth ; I fhould be glad, 
 If all this Tide of Grief would make me mad. [Exit, 
 
 Enter Melantius. 
 
 Mel. ril Icnow the Caufe of all Ammtor*s Griefs, 
 Or Friendfhip fhall be idle. 
 
 Enter Calianax. 
 
 Cal. O Melantius, 
 My Daughter- — fhe will die. Mel. Truft me, I am ibrry; 
 'Would, thou hadll ta'en her Room ! 
 
 Cal. Thou art a Slave, 
 A cut-throat Slave, a bloody treacherous Slave, 
 
 Md. Take heed, old Man, thou wilt be heard to rave. 
 And lofe thine Office. Cal. I am valiant grown 
 At all thefe Years, and thou art but a Slave. 
 
 Mel. Some Company will come, and I refpeft 
 Thy Years, not thee, fo much, that I could wifh 
 To laugh at thee alone. Cal. Pll Ipoil your Mirth, 
 
 (39) JVt/I, I a?n refolute you lay Tiot ixitb her,'\ The oldeft ^arto 
 leaves out the Negative, and gives us this Reading : 
 
 fVell. I am refolute you lay ^Mith her, 
 i. p. I am rtfol'udy certain in my Opinion, that you have enjoy'd her. 
 But, I think, this is not the Intention of the Authors : The King, 
 'ti' plain, defires to continue the Pofleffion of her folely to himfelf ; 
 and therefore, to keep up the Strain of his Tyranny, would fay, I am 
 fix'd in the Determination, that you fhall not tafte of her Embraces, 
 and fo I leave you. 
 
 I mean 
 
44 72^ Maters Tragedy, 
 
 I mean to fight with thee -, there lie my Cloak, — 
 This was my Father's Sword, and he diirft fight ; 
 Are you prepar'd ? Mel. Why, wilt thou doat thy felf 
 Out of tliy Life ? Mence get thee to thy Bed, 
 Have carefull I-ooking to, and cat warm things, 
 Trouble not me; my Head is full of Thoughts 
 More weighty than thy Life, or Death, can be. 
 
 Cal. You have a Name in War, where you ftand fafe 
 Amongft a Multitude j but I will try, 
 What you dare do unto a weak old Man : 
 In fingle Fight, you'll give ground, I fear : Come, draw. 
 
 Mel. I. will nor draw, unlefs thou puH'ft thy Death 
 Upon thee with a Stroke •, there's no one Blow, 
 That thou canft give, hath Strength enough to kill me. 
 Tempt me not fo far then ; the Pow'r of Earth 
 Shall not redeem thee. Cal. I muft let him alone, 
 He's ftout and able j and to lay the. Truth, 
 However I may fet a Face, and talk, 
 I am not valiant : "When 1 was a Youth, 
 I kept my Credit with a tefty Trick 
 I had 'mongfl Cowards, but durft never fight. 
 
 Mel. I will not promifc to preferve your Life, 
 If you do ftay, Cal. I would give half my Land 
 That f durft fight with that proud Man a little : 
 If I had Men to hold him, I would beat him. 
 Till he askt me Mercy. Mel. Sir, will you be gone i* 
 
 Cal. I dare not ftay, but I will beat my Servants 
 All over for this. [^Exit Calianax. 
 
 Mel. This old Fellow haunts me ; 
 But the diftrafted Carriage of mine Ammtor 
 Takes deeply on me, I will find the Caufe; 
 1 fear, his Confcience cries, he wrong'd Jfpatia. 
 
 Enter Amintor. 
 
 Amin. Mens Eyes are not fo fubtle to perceive 
 My inward Mifery ; I bear my Grief 
 Hid from the World -, how art thou wretched then r 
 For aught I know, all Husbands are like me -, 
 And every one, ! talk with of his Wife, 
 Is but ^ well Diffembler of his Woes, 
 
 As 
 
The Maid's Iragedy. 45 
 
 As I am : 'Would, I luiew it ; for the Rarencfs 
 Afflids me now. 
 Mel.Amintor, we have not enjoy'd ourFriendfhipof late, 
 
 (40) For wc were wont to change our Souls in I'alk. 
 Amin. Melantius^ I can tell thee a good Jell of Strata 
 
 and a Lady the laft Day. Mel. How was't ? 
 
 Jmin. Why, fuch an odd one. 
 
 AM. I have long'd to fpeak with you, not of an idle 
 J eft that's forc'd, but of matter you arc bound to utter 
 to me. 
 
 Jmin. What is that, my Friend? 
 
 Mel. I have obferv'd, your Words fall from yotir Tongue 
 Wildly ; and all your Carriage has appear'd 
 Like one that ft rove to fliew his merry Mood, 
 When he were ill difpos'd : You were not wont 
 To put fuch Scorn into your Speech, or wear 
 Upon your Face ridiculous Jollity : 
 Some Sadnefs fits here, which your Cunning wou'd 
 Cover o'er with Smiles, and 'twill not be. What is it ? 
 
 Ardin. A Sadnefs here ! what Caufe 
 Can Fate provide for me, to make me fo ^ 
 Am I not lov'd through all this Ifle .'' the King 
 Rains Greatnefs on me : Have I not receiv'd 
 A Lady to my Bed, that in her Eye 
 
 (41) Keeps mounting Fire, and on her tender Cheeks 
 Inimitable Colour, in her Heart 
 
 A Prifon 
 
 (40) For ni-e ivere nvont to charge our Souls in Talk."] This is flat 
 Nonfenfe, by the Millake of a fingle Letter. The flight Alteration 
 I have made, gives us the true Meaning. So, in j^ King and no 
 King, 
 
 or for Honefy to enterchange my Bofom nvitb, &c. 
 
 And, again, 
 
 And then hoijc dare you offer to change Words nxiith her? 
 Mr. 5^iv'ar<j'and Mr. Sympfon, concurr'd with me in flatting this 
 E.Tiendation. 
 
 (41) and on her tender Cheeks 
 
 Inevitable Colour^ This Epithet, I know, fignifies, not to be 
 a^joided, not to be efche^wd ; bot I don't remember that it takes in the 
 Idea of not to be reftjled; which is the Senfe required here. The old 
 ^arto of 1 6 19 has it, Imn-.utable Colour, — But Metre and Emphafis 
 prove th.it to be a corrupted Reading ; out of which, I dare be confi- 
 dent, I have e.xtraded the genuine Letlion : Inimitable Colour; i.e. 
 
 a 
 
46 7^^ Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 A Prifon for all Virtue ? Are not you, 
 
 Which is above all Joys, my conftant Friend ? 
 
 "What Sadnefs can I have ? No, I am light. 
 
 And feel the courfes of my Blood more warm, 
 
 And ftirring, than they were ; faith, marry too ; 
 
 And you will feel fo unexpreft a Joy 
 
 In chail Embraces, that you will indeed 
 
 Appear another. Mel. You may fhape, Anintor, 
 
 Caufes to cozen the whole World withal, 
 
 And yourfelf too-, but 'tis not like a Friend, 
 
 To hide your Soul from me ; 'tis not your Nature 
 
 To be thiis idle -, I have feen you Hand, 
 
 As you were blafted, midfl of all your Mirth -, 
 
 Call thrice aloud, and then flart, feigning Joy 
 
 So coldly : World ! what do I here ? a Friend 
 
 Is nothing •, Heav'n ! I wou'd ha' told that Man 
 
 My fecret Sins ; I'll fearch an unknown Land, 
 
 And there plant Friendfhip ; all is withered here -, 
 
 Come v/ith a Complement ? ■ I wou'd have fought. 
 
 Or told my Friend, he ly'd, e'er footh'd him fo ; 
 Out of my Bofom. 
 
 Ajn'm. But there is nothing. 
 
 Mel. Worfe and worfe ; farewel ; 
 From this time have Acquaintance, but no Friend. 
 
 Amin. Melantius, ftay ; you fhall know what it is. 
 
 (42) Mel. See, how you play'd with Friendfhip j be ad- 
 How you give Caufe unto yourfelf to fay, [vis'd. 
 
 You 
 
 a Complexion not to be paragon'd by Nature, nor imitated by Art. 
 We may eafily accoimt for the Depravation at Prefs. The Hand- 
 Wricing in thofe Times was almofl. univerfally what we call Secretary : 
 And their i's were wrote without Tittles over them. Let us then 
 fee how minute is the Difference betwixt the two Words, and how 
 liable they might be to be millaken One for the Other : 
 
 Inimitable, 
 
 Immutable. 
 
 (42) Mel. See, honu you play'd ivith Frlendfiip;'] The quarrelling 
 Scene, which is now coming on, has been the Subjeft of much Criti- 
 cifm and Controverfy. Some have cryM it up above that celebrated 
 Quarrel in Euripides'^ Iphigenia at AuUs, betwixt Agamemnon and his 
 Brother Menelaus: And others have decry'd it as egregioufly faulty in 
 the Motives, and Progrefs ; the Working «p, and Declination of the 
 
 Fafiions. 
 
Tloe Maid's T^^agedy. 47 
 
 You ha' loft a Friend. Anin. Forgive what I have done. 
 For I am fo o'ergone with Injuries 
 Unheard of, that I lofe Confideration 
 Of v/hat I ought to do — oh — oh ! 
 
 Mel. Do not weep \ 
 What is it ? May I once but know the Man, 
 Hath turn*d my Friend thus! Jmin. I had fpoke at firft. 
 But that — Mel. But what ? ylmin. I held it moft unfit 
 For you to know •, faith, do not know it yet. 
 
 Mel. Thou fecil my Love, that will keep Company 
 With thee in Tears \ hide nothing then from me \ 
 For when I know the Caufe of thy Diftemper, 
 (43) With mine old Armour I'll adorn myfelf. 
 My Refolution, and cut through thy Foes, 
 Unto thy Quiet ; till I place thy Heart 
 As peaceable as fpotlefs Innocence. 
 
 What is it? /Imin. Why, 'tis this it is too big 
 
 To get out ; let my Tears make way awhile. 
 
 Mel. Punifli me ftrangely Heav'n, if he efcape 
 Of Life or Fame, that brought this Youth to this ! 
 
 yimin. Your Sifter . Mel. Well faid. 
 
 Jmin. You will wiili't unknown. 
 When you have heard it. Mel. No. Amin. Is much to 
 
 blame. 
 And to the King has giv'n her Honour up. 
 And lives in Whoredom with him. Mel. How is this ! 
 Thou art run mad with Injury, indeed. 
 Thou cou'dft not utter this elfe ; fpeak again. 
 For I forgive it freely ; tell thy Griefs. 
 
 Amin. She's wanton ; I am loth to fay, a Whore ; 
 Though it be true. — — 
 
 Paflions. For my own part, I will venture to be no farther an Um- 
 pire in the Cafe, than in pronouncing that I have always feen it re- 
 cciv'd with vehement Applaufe ; and that I think it very afFedling 
 on each Side. 
 
 (43) fVith mine own Armour'\ I have chofe to adopt the Reading 
 here of the two eldefl ^tarto\; bccauie, I think, it is juftified by what 
 Amintor fays to Melantius, at their firll Meeting, upon his Return 
 from the Wars. 
 
 jind may thy Arrnour be, as it hath been. 
 
 Only thy Valour and thy Innocence / 
 
 MeL 
 
48 He Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 Mel. Speak yet again, before mine Anger grow 
 Up, beyond throwing down ; what are thy Griefs ? 
 
 Amin. By all our Friendfhip, thefe. 
 
 Mel. What ? am I tame ? 
 After mine Anions, fhall the name of Friend 
 (44) Blot all our Family, and ftick the Brand 
 Of Whore upon my Sifter, unreveng'd ? 
 My fhaking Flefh, be thou a Witnefs for me. 
 With what Unwillingnefs I go to fcourge 
 This Rayler, whom my Folly hatii call'd Friend ; 
 I will not take thee bafcly tho' ; thy Sword 
 Hangs neai- thy Hand, draw it, that I may whip 
 Thy Rafhnefs to Repentance. Draw thy Sword. 
 
 Amin. Not on thee, did thine Anger fwcll as high 
 As the wild Surges •, thou fhouldft do me Eafe 
 Here, and eternally, if thy noble Hand 
 Wou'd cut me from my Sorrows. Mel. This is bale 
 And fearful ; they, that ufe to utter Lies, 
 Provide not Blows, but Words, to qualify 
 The Men they wrong'd •, thou haft a guilty Caufe. 
 
 Amin. Thou pleafeft me -, for fo much more like this 
 Will raife my Anger up above my Griefs, 
 (Which is a PaiTion eaiier to be borne) 
 And I fhall then be happy. Mel. Take then more 
 To raife thine Anger. 'Tis meer Cowardice 
 Makes thee not draw ; and I will leave thee dead 
 However ; but if thou art fo much preft 
 W^ith Guilt and Fear, as not to dare to figlit, 
 I'll make thy Memory loath'd, and fix a Scandal 
 Upon thy Name for ever. Amin. Then I draw. 
 As juftly as our Magiftrates their Swords, 
 To cut Offenders off. I knew before, 
 'Twould grate your Ears j but it was bafe in you 
 To urge a weighty Secret from your Friend, 
 And then rage at it ; I fhall be at Eafe, 
 
 (44) and ftrike the Brand 
 
 Of ivhore upon my Sifter,'] To ftrike the Brand of any Infamy upon 
 a Per fon, never was the Phrafe to exprefs that Idea ; yet it has pofiefs'd 
 all the printed Copies for above this Century paft. The true Word 
 I have retriev'd from the oldeft ^arto in 161 9. 
 
 If 
 
The Maid^s Tragedy, 49 
 
 If I be kill'd •, and if you fall by me, 
 
 I fhall not long out-live you. Mel. Stay a while. 
 
 The name of 1^'ricnd is more than Family, 
 
 Or all the World bcfides ; I was a Fool. 
 
 Thou fearching human Nature, that didft wake 
 
 To do me Wrong, thou art inquifitive. 
 
 And thruils't me upon Quellions that will take 
 
 My Sleep away ; 'would, I had dy'd, e'er known 
 
 This fad Dilhonour ! Pardon me, my Friend j 
 
 If thou wilt ftrike, here is a faithful Heart ; 
 
 Pierce it, for I will never heave my Hand 
 
 To tliine ; behold the Pow'r thou haft in me ! 
 
 I do believe, my Sifter is a Whore, 
 
 A leprous one -, put up diy Sword, young Man. 
 
 Amin. How fhou'd I bear it then, flie being fo ? 
 I fear, my Friend, that you will lofe me lliortly •, 
 And I fhall do a foul A61 on myfelf 
 Through thefe Difgraces. Mel. Better, half the Land 
 Were buried quick together; no, Amintor., 
 Thou ftialt have Eafe: O this aduit'rous King, 
 That drew her to it ! where got he the Spirit 
 To wrong me fo.'* Amin. What is it then to me. 
 If it be Wrong to you ! Mel. Why, not fo much : 
 The Credit of our Houfe is thrown away •, 
 But from his iron Den I'll waken Death, 
 And hurl him on this King ; my Honefty 
 Shall fteel my Sword ; and on its horrid Point 
 I'll wear my Caufe, that Ihall amaze the Eyes 
 Of this proud Man, and be too glittering 
 For him to look on. Amin. I have quite undone 
 My Fame. Mel. Dry up thy watry Eyes awhile. 
 And caft a manly Look upon my Face j 
 For nothing is fo wild as I thy Friend, 
 Till I have freed thee : Still tliis fwelling Breaft ; 
 I go thus from thee, and will never ceafe 
 (45) My Vengeance, till I find thy Heart at Peace. 
 
 Amin. 
 
 . (4O ' -Till I find my Heart at Peace.'] Melnntius ?ney/^ but 
 
 little Friendlhip in This, to fay, he will purfue his Revenge, till he 
 
 has fatisficd his orxn Mind. He had promilcd Somwhing to Amintorx 
 
 Vo L. I. E had 
 
50 7^^ Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 Amin. It mufl not be fo -, (lay, mine Eyes would tell 
 How loth I am to this ; but Love and Tears 
 Leave me awhile, for I have hazarded 
 All that this World calls happy •, thou haft wrought 
 A Secret from me under name of Friend, 
 Which Art could ne'er have found, nor Torture wrung 
 From out my Bofom ; give it me again. 
 For I will find it, wherefoe'er it lies 
 Hid in the mortal' ft part ; invent a way 
 To give it back. Mel. Why, wou'd you have it back ? 
 I will to Death purfue him with Revenge. 
 
 Atnin. Therefore, I call it from thee ; for, I know. 
 Thy Blood fo high, that thou wilt ftir in this, 
 And fli ame m.e to Pofterity : Take to thy Weapon. 
 
 Mel. Hear thou thy Friend, that bears more Years 
 than thou. 
 
 Amin. I will not hear: but draw, or I — Mel. Amintor^-^ 
 
 Amin. Draw then, for I arn full as refolute. 
 As Fame and Honour can inforce me be ; 
 
 I cannot linger, draw. Mel. I do ■ but is not 
 
 My fhare of Credit equal then with thine. 
 
 If I do ftir .? Amin. No ; for it will be caird 
 
 Honour in thee to fpill thy Sifter's Blood, 
 
 If flie her Birth abufe ; and, on the King, 
 
 A brave Revenge : But on me, that have walkt 
 
 With Patience in it, it will fix the Name 
 
 Of fearfull Cuckold O that Word ! be quick. 
 
 Mel. Then join v/ith me. Amin. I dare not do a Sin, 
 Or elfe I would : Be fpeedy. 
 , Mel. Then dare not fight with me, for that's a Sin. 
 His Grief diftradts him i call thy Thoughts again. 
 And to thyfelf pronounce the Name of Friend, 
 And fee what that will work ; I will not fight. 
 
 Amin. You muft. Mel. I will be kill'd firft, though 
 my PalTions 
 
 had advis'd him to take Comfort, and pacify his Griefs ; and there- 
 fore it was his Heart that was to be fet at Reft. But the Quarrel does 
 not lye againft the Authors, but their incorredl Editors. The oldeft 
 ^arto, indeed, (as it does in numberlefs other Places,) help'd mtf to 
 the true Reading. 
 
 Oftcr'd 
 
The MaicTs Tragedy. jH 
 
 OfFer'd the like to you ; 'tis not this Earth 
 
 Shall buy my Reafon to it ; think a while. 
 
 For you are (I mull weep, when I fpeak that) 
 
 Almoil befides yourfelf. Amin. Oh my foft Temper ! 
 
 So many fweet Words from thy Sifter's Mouth, 
 
 I am afraid, would make me take her to me 
 
 To embrace, and pardon her. I am mad, indeed. 
 
 And know not what I do •, yet have a Care 
 
 Of me in what thou doeft. Mel. Why thinks my Friend, 
 
 I will forget his Honour, or, to fave 
 
 The Bravery of our Houfe, will lofe his Fame, 
 
 And fear to touch the Throne of Majefty ? 
 
 Amin. A Curie will follow that -, but rather live 
 And fufFer with me. Mel. I will do what Worth 
 Shall bid me, and no more. Amin. *Faith, I am fick. 
 And defp'rately, I hope •, yet, leaning thus, 
 I feel a kind of Eafe. Mel. Come, take again 
 Your Mirth about you. Amin. I ihall never do't. 
 
 Mel. I warrant you, look up, we'll walk together. 
 Put thine Arm here, all fhall be well again. 
 
 Amin. Thy Love, (O wretched .') Ay, thy I-ove, Melan- 
 Why, I have nothing elfe. [tius % 
 
 Mel. Be merry then. [^Exeunt, 
 
 Enter Melantius again. 
 
 Mel. This worthy young Man may do Violence 
 Upon himfelf ; but I have cherifli'd him 
 To my beft Pow'r, and fent him fmiling from me. 
 To counterfeit again. Sword, hold thine Edge j 
 
 My Heart will never fail me. Diphilus, • 
 
 L (46) Thou com'fl, as fent. 
 
 Enter Diphilus. 
 
 Dipb. Yonder has been fuch laughing. 
 Mel. Betwixt whom } [Spleens 
 
 Diph. Why, our Sifter and the King, I thought their 
 Would break j they laught us all out of the Room. 
 
 (46) "Thou com" ft as fent '\ This is, as Horace fays of himfelf, Bre" 
 •vis ejfe laboro, Obfcurus fio. The meaning is, thou com'ft as critically, 
 as if I had fent for thee. 
 
 E 2 Mel 
 
52 The Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 Mel. They muft weep, Diphilus. Dipb. Mufl: they ? 
 Mel. They mult : 
 Thou art my Brother, And if I did believe • 
 Thou hadft a bafe Thought, I would rip it out. 
 Lie where it durft. T^iph. You fhould not, I would firft 
 Mangle myfelt and find it. Mel. That was ipoke 
 According to our Strain; Come, join thy Hands, 
 And Iwear a Firmnefs to what Projedl I 
 Shall lay before thee. Diph. You do wrong us both ; 
 
 (47) People hereafter Ihall not fay, there pafs'd 
 A Bond more than our Loves, to tie our Lives 
 And Deaths together. 
 
 Mel. It is as nobly faid as I would wifh ; 
 Anon I'll tell you Wonders ; we are wrong'd. 
 
 Diph, But I will tell you now, we'll right ourfelves. 
 
 Mel. Stay not, prepare the Armour in my Houfe j 
 And what Friends you can draw unto our Side, 
 Not knowing of the Caufe, make ready too ; 
 Hafte, Diphilus, the Time requires it, halle. 
 
 [^Exit Diphilus. 
 I hope, my Caufe is juft ; I know, my Blood 
 TeUs me, it is ; and I will credit it. 
 To take Revenge, and lofe myfelf withal. 
 Were idle ; and to fcape impoflible, 
 
 (48) Without I had the Fort, which, (Mifery! j 
 Remaining in the Hands of my Old Enemy 
 Calianax,^-—-' but I muft have it. See, 
 
 EnUr Calianax. 
 Where he comes fhalcing by me : Good my Lord, 
 
 (47) People hereafter Jhall not fay, there pafs'd 
 
 A Bond more than our Loves,'] This Sentiment feems to be 
 fliadow'd fiom Skakefpeare, in his fulius C<efar. 
 Caff. And let us fwear our Refalution. 
 Bru. iV(7, not an Oath ; if that the Face of Men, 
 
 The Suff ranee of our Souls, the Timers Abufe, 
 
 If theje he Motives nveai, break off betimes ; &C. 
 
 (48) nvhich Mifery' 
 
 Remaining in the Hands."] Without the Reftification which 
 I have made in the Pointing, this Paffage was flark Nonfenfe. 
 Mr. Sympfon ftartcd the very iamc Adjuftincnt, in Confirmation of 
 my Corjedure. 
 
 Forget 
 
TToe Maid's Tragedy, 53 
 
 Forget your Spleen to me, I never wrongM you, 
 
 But would have Peace with ev'ry Man. Cal. 'lis well ; 
 
 If I durft fight, your Tongue would lie at quiet. 
 
 Mel. You're touchy without all Caufe. 
 
 Cal. Do, mock me. AM. By 
 Mine Honour, I fpeak Truth. Cal. Honour.'' where is*t? 
 
 Mel. What ftarts you make into your idle Hatred 
 To my good Love and Freedom to you. I come 
 With Refolution to obtain a Suit of you. 
 
 Cal. A Suit of me! 'tis very like, it Hiould 
 Be granted. Sir. Mel. Nay, go not hence j *tis this^ 
 You have the keeping of the Fort, and I 
 Would wifli you by the Love you ought to bear 
 Unto me, to deliver it to my Hands. 
 
 Cal. I am in hope thou'rt mad, to talk to me thus. 
 
 Mel. But there's a Reafon why I move you to it. 
 I would kill the King, that wrong' d you and your 
 Daughter. 
 
 Cal. Out lYaitor ! Mel. Nay, but ftay ; I cannot fcape. 
 The Deed once done, without I'have this Fort. [Mind 
 
 Cal. And Ihould 1 help thee? now thy treacherous 
 Betrays itfelf Mel. Come, come, delay me not •, 
 Give me a fudden Anfwer, or already 
 Thy lall is fpoke ; refufe not oflfer'd Love, 
 When it comes clad in Secrets. Cal. If I fay, 
 I will not, he will kill me ; I do (tt\ 
 Writ in his Looks ; and fhould I fay, I will. 
 He'll run and tell the King. I do not ftiun 
 Your Friendlhip, dear Melantius, but this Caufe 
 Is weighty, give me but an Hour to think. 
 
 Mel. Take it — I know, this goes unto the King; 
 But I am arm'd. [^Exit Melantius, 
 
 Cal. Methinks, I feel myfelf 
 But twenty now again-, this fighting Fool 
 Wants Policy -, I fhall revenge my Girl, 
 And make her red again ; I pray, my Legs 
 Will laft that Pace that I will cany diem ; 
 \ fhall want Breath, before I find the King. 
 
 E 3 ACT 
 
54 7^^ Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 A C T IV. S C E N E I. 
 
 Enter Melantius, Evadne, and a Lady. 
 
 Mel. C A^^E you! Evad, Save you, fweet Brother! 
 
 ^ Mel. In my blunt Eye, 
 Methinks, you look, Evadne^ -. 
 
 Evad. Come, you would make 
 Me blufh; 
 
 Mel. I would, Evadne \ I fhall difpleafe my Ends elfe. 
 
 (49) Evad. You fhall, if you commend me ; I am bafliful ; 
 Come, Sir, how do I look? Mel. I would not have 
 Your Women hear me 
 Break into Commendation of you, 'tis not feemly. 
 
 Evad. Go wait me in the Gallery — — now fpeak. 
 
 Mel. I'll lock the Door firft. . {Exeunt Ladies. 
 
 Evad. Why? 
 
 Mel. I will not have your gilded Things, that dance 
 In Vifitation witli their Milan Skins, 
 (50) Choke up my Bufinefs: 
 
 Evad. You are ftrangely dilpos'd. Sir; 
 
 Mel. Good Madam, not to make you merry; 
 
 Evad. No, if you praife mc, it will make me fad: 
 
 Mel. Such a fad Commendation I have for you. 
 
 Evad. Brother, the Court hath made you witty. 
 And learn to riddle. 
 
 MeL I praife the Court for't •, has it learn'd you nothing ? 
 
 Evad. Me? 
 
 Mel. Ay, Evadne., thou art young and handfom, 
 A Lady of a fweet Complexion, 
 And fuch a flowing Carriage, that it cannot 
 Chufe but inflame a Kingdom. Evad. Gentle Brother! 
 
 (49) Youjhall, if you command me{\ Thus all the Editions : /. e. 
 If you bid me blufh, I fhall. E<vadte is very obfequious in this Con- 
 defcention : but this, I dare fay, was not the Poets' Intentions. They 
 meant, (he fhould fay ; '• Nay, if you commend me, I am bafhful, 
 " and fhall blufh at your Praifes :" And this is confirm'd by what Me- 
 lantiui immediately fubjoins to it. 
 
 (50) Choke up viy Bufinefs. 
 
 hi Vifitation, &c.] The Tranfpofition of the Lines, made here, 
 is from the Authority of the old Copies. Mr. ^f'a-ar^/likewife pointed 
 eut the fame Regulation to me. Mel. 
 
7^^ Maid's Tragedy, 55 
 
 (51) Mel. 'Tis yet in thy Repentance, fooJiHi Woman, 
 To make me gentle. Evad. How is this ? Mel. *Tis bafe. 
 And I could blulh at thefe Years, thorough all 
 
 My honour'd Scars, to come to fuch a Parly. 
 
 Evad. I underftand you not. Mel. You dare not, Fool ; 
 They, that commit thy Faults, fly the Remembrance. 
 
 Evad. My Faults, Sir! I would have you know, I care not 
 If they were written here, here in my Forehead. 
 
 (52) Mel. Thy Body is too litde for the Story, 
 The Lulls of which would fill another Woman, 
 
 As though lh*ad Twins within her. Evad. This is faucy ; 
 Took, you intrude no more, there hes your Way.- 
 
 Mel. Thou art my Way, and I will tread upon thee, 
 'Till I find Tmth out. 
 
 Evad. What Truth is that you look for ^ [fct me 
 
 {c^^) Mel. Thy long-loft Honour: 'would, the Gods had 
 Rather to grapple with the Plague, or ftand 
 One of their loudeft Bolts ! Come, tell me quickly. 
 Do it without Enforcement, and take heed 
 You fwell me not above my Temper. 
 
 Evad. How, Sir .'' where got you this Report ? 
 
 Mel. Where there were People, in every Place. 
 
 Evad. They and the Seconds of it are bafe People ; 
 Believe them not, they lyed. 
 
 Mel. Do not play with mine Anger, do not Wretch, 
 
 (5O ^Tis yet in thy Kcmemhricnce, fooli/h Woman,'] How was it in 
 her Re?nembrance? She was not at all confcious, that Melantius knew 
 any thing of her Mifcondudl and Guilt with the King; fo was not pre- 
 pared to make any Confeffion. Reptntance is the Reading of the beft 
 and oldeft Copies, and is certainly the genuine one. 
 
 (52) Th} Body is too little for the Story, 
 
 The Lujli of ^ivhich nuould fill another Woman, 
 Thoughy^i? had Tiuins •-juithin her.] This is Mock-Reafoning, 
 and prima facie fhews its Abfurdity. Surely, if a Woman has Twins 
 within her, (he can want very little more to fill her up. I dare be 
 confident, I have reftor'd the Poet's genuine Reading. The Pro- 
 priety of the Reafoning is a Conviftion of the Certainty of the Emen- 
 dation. 
 
 (53) 'Would, the Goii had fet me 
 
 One of their loudcjl Bolts ;] Ever fince the Folio Edition of 
 1679, downwards, this Imperfedien, and Nonfenfe, has poffefs'd the 
 Text. The Line, which I have retriev'd from the Generality of the 
 old ^artui makes all dear. 
 
 E 4 \ come 
 
56 'The Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 I come to know that defpcrate Fool that drew thee 
 From thy fair Life ; be wife, and lay him open. 
 
 Evad. Unhand me, and leam Manners ; fuch another 
 Forgetfulnefs forfeits your L.ife. 
 
 Mel. Quench me this mighty Humour, and then tell me 
 Whofe "Whore you are ; for you are one, I know it. 
 Let all mine Honours perifh, but I'll find him. 
 Though he lie lockt up in thy Blood ! be fudden ; 
 There is no facing it, and be not flattered -, 
 The burnt Air, when the Dog reigns, is not fouler 
 Than thy contagious Name, 'till thy Repentance 
 (If the Gods grant thee any) purge thy Sicknefs. 
 
 Evad. Be gone, you are my Brother, that's your Safety. 
 
 Mel. rU be a Wolf firft ; 'tis, to be thy Brother, 
 An Infamy below the Sin of Coward .- 
 I am as far from being Part of thee. 
 As thou art from thy Virtue : Seek a Kindred 
 'Mongft fenfual Beafts, and make a Goat thy Brother ; 
 A Goat is cooler. Will you tell me yet ! 
 
 E^cad. If you ftay here and rail thus, I (hall tell you, 
 I'll ha' you whipt j get you to your Command, 
 And there preach to your Sentinels, and tell them 
 What a brave Man you are ; I Ihall laugh at you. 
 
 Mel. You're grown a glorious Whore ; where be your 
 Fighters ? 
 What mortal Fool durft raife thee to this Daring, 
 And I alive.? By my juft Sword, h'ad fafer 
 Bsftrid a Billow when the angiy North 
 plows up the Sea, or made tleav'n's Fire his Food : 
 Work me no higher; will you difcover yet? 
 
 Evad. The Fellow's mad ; fleep, and fpeak Senfe. 
 
 Mel. Force my fwoll'n Heart no further-, I would fave 
 Your great Maintainors are not here, they dare not ; [thee j 
 'Would, they were all, and arm'd ! I would fpeak loud j 
 Here's one Ihould thunder to 'em : will you tell me ? 
 Thou hail no hope to fcape ; he that dares moft. 
 And damns away his Soul to do thee Service, 
 Will fooner fetch Meat from a hungry Lion, 
 Than come to refcue thee^ thou' ft Death about thee : 
 He has undone thine Honour, poyfon'd thy Virtue, 
 
 And 
 
The Maid's Ij^agedyl 57 
 
 And, of a lovely Rofe, left -thee a Canker. 
 
 E%'nd. Let me confider. Mel. Do, whofe Child thou wert, 
 Whofe Honour thou hall murder'd, whofe Grave open'd. 
 And fo puH'd on the Gods, that in their Juflice 
 I'hey mult reftore him Pleih again and Life, 
 And raife his dry Bones to revenge his Scandal. 
 
 Ez'^d. The Gods are not of my mind ; they had better 
 Let 'em lie fwcet ftill in the Earth \ they'll ftink here. 
 
 Mel. Do you raife Mirth out of my Eafinefs ? 
 Forfake me then all Weaknefles of Nature, 
 That make Men Women : Speak, you Whore, Ipeak truth •, 
 Or by the dear Soul of thy fleeping Father, 
 This Sword Ihall be thy Lover : tell, or I'll kill thee : 
 And when thou haft told all, thou wilt deferve it. 
 
 Evad. You will not murder me! Mel. No, 'tis a Juftice 
 And a moft noble one, to put the Light 
 Out of fuch bafe Offenders. Evad. Help! 
 
 Mel. By thy foul Self, 
 No human Help fhall help thee, if thou crieft ; 
 When I have kiU'd thee, as I have vow'd to do. 
 If thou confefs not, naked as thou haft left 
 Thine Honour, will I leave thee ; 
 That on thy branded Flefh the World may read 
 Thy black Shame, and my Juftice. W^ilt thou bend yet ? 
 
 Evad. Yes. Mel. Up, and begin your Story. 
 
 Evad. Oh, I am miferable. 
 
 Mel. 'Tis true, thou art-, fpeak Truth ftill. 
 
 Evad. I have offended -, Noble Sir, forgive me. 
 
 Mel. With what fecure Slave ^ Evad. Do not ask me, Sir. 
 Mine own Remembrance is a Mifery 
 Too mighty for me. Mel. Do not fall back again ; 
 My Sword's unftieathed yet. Evad. W^hat ftiall I do ^. 
 
 Mel. Be true, and make your Fault lefs. 
 
 Evad. I dare not tell. 
 
 Mel. Tell, or I'll be this Day a killing thee. 
 
 Evad. Will you forgive me then ? 
 
 Mel. Stay, I muft ask 
 Mine Honour firft -, I've too much foolifh Nature 
 In me ; fpeak. Evad. Is there none elfe here .'' 
 
 Mel. None but a fearful Confcience, that's too many. 
 
 Who 
 
58 The Matd^s Tragedy, 
 
 "Who Is't? Evad. O, hear me gently; it was the King. 
 
 Mel. No more. My worthy Father's and my Services 
 Are hberally rewarded ! King, I thank thee : 
 For all my Dangers and my Wounds, thou haft paid me 
 In my own Metal : Thefe are Soldiers' Thanks. 
 How long have you liv'd thus, Evadne ? 
 
 Evad. Too long. 
 
 Mel. Too late you find it : Can you be forry? 
 
 Evad. 'Wou'd, I were half as blamelefs. 
 
 Mel. Evadne^ thou wilt to thy Trade again. 
 
 Evad. Firft to my Grave. 
 
 Mel. 'Wou'd Gods, th'hadft been fo bleft : 
 Doft thou not hate this King now } prithee, hate him : 
 Cou'dft thou not curfe him.'' I command thee, curfe himj 
 Curfe, till the Gods hear, and deliver him 
 To thy juft Wifhes ; yet I fear, Evadne, 
 You had rather play your Game out. Evad. No, I feel 
 Too many fad Confufions here to let in 
 Any loofe Flame hereafter. 
 
 Mel. Doft thou not feel 'mong all thofe one brave Anger, 
 That breaks out nobly, and directs thine Arm 
 To kill this bafe King ? 
 
 Evad. All the Gods forbid it ! 
 
 Mel. No, all the Gods require it, they are dilhonour'd In 
 
 Evad. 'Tis too fearfull. [him. 
 
 Mel. You're valiant in his Bed, and bold enough 
 To be a ftale Whore, and have your Madam's Name 
 Difcourfe for Grooms and Pages ; and hereafter. 
 When his cool Majelly hath laid you by. 
 To be at Penfion with fome needy Sir 
 For Meat and coarfer Cloathes,thus far you know no Fear. 
 Come, you Ihall kill him. Evad. Good Sir! 
 
 Mel. And 'twere to kifs him dead, thou'dft fmotherhimj 
 Be wife and kill him : Canft thou live, and know 
 What noble Minds jfhall make thee fee thy felf 
 Found out with ev'ry Finger, made the Shame 
 Of all SuccefTions, and in this great Ruin 
 Thy Brother and thy noble Flusband broken ^ 
 Thou fhalt not live thus ; kneel, and fwear to help me. 
 When I Ihall call thee to it, or. by all 
 
 Holy 
 
TTjc Maid's Tragedy, 59 
 
 Holy in Heav'n and Earth, thou fhalt not live 
 To breath a full Hour longer, not a Thought : 
 Come, 'tis a righteous Oath ; give me thy Hand» 
 And, both to Heav'n held up, fwear by that Wealth 
 This luftfull Thief ftole from thee, when I fay it. 
 To let his foul Soul out. Evad. Here I do fwear it ; 
 And all you Spirits of abufed Ladies 
 Help me in this Performance ! 
 
 Mel. Enough ; this mull be known to none 
 But you and I, Evadne ; not to your Lord, 
 Thougii he be wife and noble, and a Fellow 
 Dares ftep as far into a worthy Aflion 
 As the mofl daring ; ay, as far as Jufticc. 
 Ask me not why. Farewel. [Exit Mel. 
 
 Evad. 'Would, I cou'd fay fo to my black Diigrace ! 
 Oh, where have I been all this time ! how friended, 
 That I fliould lofe my felf thus defperately. 
 And none for Pity fhew me how I wandred ? 
 There is not in the Compafs of the Light 
 A more unhappy Creature: Sure, I am monftrous; 
 For 1 have done thofc Follies, thofe mad Mifchiefe, 
 ("54) Wou'd dare a Woman. O my loaden Soul, 
 Be not fo cruel to me, choak not up 
 
 Enter Amintor. 
 
 The way to my Repentance! O my Lord ! 
 
 ^min. How now ? 
 
 Evad. My much abufed Lord ! [Kneelt, 
 
 Ami7i. This cannot be. 
 
 Evad. I do not kneel to live, I dare not hope it ; 
 The Wrongs I did are greater -, look upon me. 
 Though I appear with all my Faults. Amin. Stand up. 
 This is a new way to beget more Sorrow ; 
 Heav'n knows, I have too many ; do not mock me ; 
 Though I am tame and bred up with my Wrongs, 
 Which are my Fofter-brothers, I may leap 
 Like a Hand-Wolf into my natural Wildnefs, 
 And do an Outrage : pray thee, do not mock me. 
 
 (54) Would 6.7ixt. a Woman^ ;. t. would fcarc, would fright her 
 out of her Wits to commie. 
 
 E.vad. 
 
6o The Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 Evad. My whole Life is fo leprous, it iiTfe<5l:s 
 All my Repentance : I wou'd buy your Pardon 
 Though at the higheft Set, even with my Life : 
 That flight Contrition, that's no Sacrifice 
 For what I have committed. Amin. Sure, I dazzle : 
 There cannot be a Faith in that foul Woman, 
 That knows no God more mighty than her Mifchiefs : 
 Thou doft ftiU worfe, Hill number on thy Faults, 
 To prefs my poor Heart thus. Can I believe, 
 There's any 5ecd of Virtue in that Woman 
 Left to Ihoot up, that dares go on in Sin 
 Known, and fo known as thine is ? O Evadne ! 
 (55) 'Wou'd, there were any Safety in thy Sex, 
 That I might put a thoufand Sorrows off. 
 And credit thy Repentance ! But I muft not ; 
 Thou' ft brought me to that dull Calamity, 
 To that ftrange Misbelief of all the World, 
 And all things that are in it ; that, I fear, 
 I fhall fall like a Tree, and find my Grave, 
 Only remembring that I grieve. 
 
 Evad. My Lord, 
 Give me your Griefs : You are an Innocent, 
 A Soul as white as Heav'n ; let not my Sins 
 Perifh your noble Youth : I do not fall here 
 To fhadow by diflembling with my Tears, 
 (As, all fay. Women can,) or to make lefs 
 What my hot Will hath done, which Heav'n and you 
 Know to be tougher than the Hand of Time 
 Can cut from Man's Remembrance •, no, I do not ; 
 I do appear the fame, the fame Evadne^ 
 Dreft in the Shames I liv'd in j the fame Monfter. 
 But thefe are Names of Honour, to what I am; 
 I do prefent my felf the fouleft Creature, 
 Moft pois'nous, dang'rous, and defpis'd of Men, 
 Lerna e'er bred, or Nilus j I am Hell, 
 'Till you, my dear Lord, Ihoot your Light into mc. 
 The Beams of your Forgivenefs : I am Soul-fick j 
 And wither with the Fear of one condemn'd, 
 
 (5O ""^ould there nuere a;*)' Safety in thy Sex,'\ i.e. any Secirlty, 
 any TrulK or Belief to be repofed in them. 
 
 *TiU 
 
TIk Alaicfs Tragedy, 6i 
 
 'Till I have got your Pardon. Amin. Rife, Evadne, 
 
 Thofe heav'nly Pow'rs, that put tliis Good into thee. 
 
 Grant a Continuance of it : 1 forgive thee ; 
 
 Make thy felf worthy of it, and take heed. 
 
 Take heed, Evadne^ this be ferious ; 
 
 Mock not the Pow'rs above, that can and dare 
 
 Give thee a great Example of their Juftice 
 
 To all cnfuing Eyes, if that thou playeft 
 
 With thy Repentance, the beft Sacrifice. 
 
 Evad. I have done nothing good to win Belief, 
 My Life hath been fo faithlefs ; all the Creatures, 
 Made for Heav'n's Honours,have their Ends,and good ones, 
 All but the coz'ning Crocodiles, falfe Women -, 
 They reign here like thofe Plagues, thofe killing Sores, 
 Men pray againft; and when they die, like Tales 
 111 told, and unbeliev*d, they pafs away, 
 And go to Duft forgotten : But, my Lord, 
 Thofe Ihort Days I fhall number to my Reft, 
 (As many muft not fee me) iliall, though late. 
 Though in my Evening, yet perceive a Will, 
 Since I can do no Good becaufe a Woman, 
 Reach conftantly at fomething that is near it ; 
 I will redeem one Minute of my Age, 
 Or, like another Niobe, V\\ weep 
 'Till I am Water. 
 
 Amin. I am now diflblv'd : 
 My frozen Soul melts : May each Sin thou haft. 
 Find a new Mercy ! Rife, I am at Peace : 
 Hadft thou been thus, thus excellendy good. 
 Before that Devil King tempted thy Frailty, 
 Sure, thou hadft made a Star. Give me thy Hand ; 
 From diis time I will know thee, and as far 
 As Honour gives me Leave, be thy Amintor, 
 When we meet next, I will falute thee fairly. 
 And pray the Gods to give thee happy Days : 
 My Charity ftiall go along with thee. 
 Though my Embraces muft be far from thee. 
 I fliould ha' kill'd thee, but this fweet Repentance 
 Locks up my Vengeance, for which thus I kifs thee. 
 The laft kifs we muft take; and *wQu*d to Heav'n 
 
 The 
 
62 The Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 The Holy Prieft, that gave our Hands together. 
 Had giv'n us equal Virtues ! Go, Eiadtic ; 
 The Gods thus part our Bodies, have a care 
 My Honour falls no farther, I am well then. 
 
 Eijad. All the dear Joys here, and above hereafter. 
 Crown thy fair Soul ! Thus I take Leave, my Lord ; 
 And never (hall you fee ^t foul Evadne, 
 'Till fhe have try*d all honour'd Means that may 
 Set her in Reft, and walh her Stains away. 
 
 [ Exeunt, feverally. 
 Banquet. Enter King^ Calianax. Hoboys play ivithin. 
 King. I cannot tell how 1 fhou'd credit this 
 From you, that are his Enemy. Cal. I am fure. 
 He faid it to me, and I'll juftify it 
 What way he dares oppofe j but with my Sword. 
 
 King. But did he break, without all Circumftance, 
 To you his Foe, that he wou'd have the Fort 
 To kill me, and then efcape.'' Cal. If he deny it, 
 rjl make him blulh. King. It founds incredibly, 
 Cal. Ay, fo does every diing I fay of Jate. 
 King. Not fo, Calianax. Cal. Yes, I fhou'd fit 
 Mute, whilft a Rogue with ftrong Arms cuts your Throat. 
 
 King. Well, I will try him, and, if this be true, 
 I'll pawn my Life, I'll find it j if 't be falfe. 
 And that you cloathe your Hate in fuch a Lye, 
 You fhall hereafter doat in your own Houfe, 
 Not in the Court. 
 
 Cal. Why, if it be a Lie, 
 Mine Ears are falfe ; for, I'll be fwom, I heard it : 
 Old Men are good for nothing ; you were beft 
 Put me to Death for hearing, and free him 
 For meaning of it ; you wou'd ha* tnifted me 
 Once, but the time is altered. King. And will ftilJ, 
 Where I may do't with Juftice to the World -, 
 You have no Wimefs. Cal. Yes, my felf. iiT/?/^. No more, 
 I mean, there were that heard it. Cal. How, no more ? 
 Would you have more ? why am not I enough 
 To hang a thoufand Rogues ? King. But fo you may 
 Hang honeft Men too if you pleafe. Cal. I may •, 
 'Tis like, I Yrill do fo; there are a hundred 
 
 Will 
 
T'he Maid's 'Tragedy. 6j, 
 
 Will fwear it for a Need too, if I fay it. 
 
 Kbig. Such Witnefles we need not. Cal. And 'tis hard 
 If my Word cannot hang a boiiterous Knave, 
 
 King. Enough j where's Strato ? 
 
 Enter Strato, 
 
 Stra, Sir! 
 
 King. Wliy, where is all the Company? call Amintor in, 
 Evadne., where's my Brother, and Melantius? 
 Bid him come too, and Diphilus-, call all, [Exit Strato. 
 That are without there. If he fliould dcfire 
 The Combat of you, 'tis not in the Pow'r 
 Of all our Laws to hinder it, unlefs 
 We mean to quit 'em. Cal. Why, if you do think 
 *Tis fit an old Man and a Counfellor 
 Do fight for what he fays, then you may grant it. 
 
 Enter Amintor, Evadne, Melantius, Diphilus, 
 Lyfippus, Cleon, Strato. 
 
 King. Come, Sirs; Amintor, thou art yet a Bridegroom, 
 
 And I will ufe thee fo ; thou fhalt fit down ; ^ 
 
 Evadne, fit, and you Ajnintor too ; 
 
 This Banquet is for you. Sir : Who has brought 
 
 A merry Tale about him, to raife a Laughter 
 
 Amongft our Wine .'' Why, Strato, where art thou ? 
 
 Thou wilt chop out with them unfeafonably. 
 
 When I defire 'em not. 
 
 Stra. 'Tis my ill Luck, Sir, fo to fpend them then, 
 {^6) King. Reach me a Boul of Wine : Melantius^ 
 
 Thou art fad. Mel. I Ihould be. Sir, the mcrriefl here. 
 
 But I ha' ne'er a Story of mine own 
 
 Worth telling at this time. King. Give me the Wine. 
 
 Melantius, I am now confidering. 
 
 How eafy *twere for any Man we trufl 
 
 To poifon one of us in fuch a Boul. 
 
 (56) King. Reach me a Boul of Wine ', Melantius, thou art fad. 
 Amin. 1 Jhould be Sir, Sec] I have adjufted the Metre, 
 which was confufed ; and, by the Affiftance of the old S^uarto in 1619, 
 affix'd the Reply to the right Charafter. The King addrefs'd hintifelf 
 to Melantius; and what Impertinence it is in A'nintor to take hi$ 
 friend's Anfwer out of his Mouth ? 
 
 Mel. 
 
64 7^^ Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 Mel. I think, it were not hard, Sir, for a Knave. 
 
 Cal. Such as you are. 
 
 King, rfaith, 'twere eafy, it becomes us well 
 To get plain-dealing Men about our felves. 
 Such as you all are here. Amintor., to thee. 
 And to thy fair Evadne. Mel. Have you thought 
 Of this, Calianax? {Jfide. 
 
 Cal. Yes, marry, have I. 
 
 Mel. And what's your Refolution ? 
 
 Cal. Ye fhall have it foundly. 
 
 King. Reach to Amintor, Strata. Amin. Here, my Love, 
 This Wine will do thee Wrong, for it will fet 
 Blufhes upon thy Cheeks, and 'till thou doft 
 A Fault, 'twere Pity. 
 
 King. Yet I wonder much 
 At the ftrange Defperation of thefe Men, 
 That dare attempt fuch Ads here in our State ; 
 He could not 'fcape, that did it. Mel. Were he known, 
 ImpoHible. King. Jt would be known, Melantitis. 
 
 Mel. It ought to be -, if he got then away. 
 He mull wear all our Lives upon his Sword ; 
 He need not fly the Ifland, he muft leave 
 No one alive. King. No ; I fliould think, no Man 
 Cou'd kill me and 'fcape clear, but that old Man. 
 Cal. But I ! Heav'n blcfs me ! I, fhould I, my Liege? 
 King. I do not think, thou would*ft ; but yet thou might'dj 
 For thou haft in thy Hands the Means to 'fcape. 
 By keeping of the Fort j he has, Melantius^ 
 And he has kept it well Mel. From Cobwebs, Sir, 
 *Tis clean fwept : I can find no other Art 
 In keeping of it now, *twas ne'er befieg'd 
 Since he commanded it. Cal. I Ihall be fure 
 Of your good Word, but I have kept it fafe 
 From fuch as you. Mel. Keep your ill Temper in, 
 I fpeak no Malice \ had my Brother kept it, 
 I ITiou'd ha* faid as much King. You are not merry ; 
 Brother, drink Wine ; fit you all ftill ! Calianax {^Aftde, 
 I cannot truft thus : I have thrown out Words, 
 That would have fetch'd warm Blood upon the Cheeks 
 Of guilty Men, and he is never mov'd j 
 
 He 
 
iTje Maid's Tragedy, 65 
 
 He knows no fuch Thing. Cal. Impudence may 'fcapCj 
 
 When tccble Virtue is accus'd. King. He muft, 
 
 If he were guilty, feel an AlteratioTi 
 
 At this our Whifpcr ; whilft we point at him, 
 
 You fee, he does not. Cal. Let him hang himfelf j 
 
 What care I, what he does .'' this he did fay. 
 
 {cj^) King. Melantius, you can eafily conceive 
 What I have meant ; for Men, that are in Fault, 
 Can fubtly apprehend when others aim 
 At what they do amifs i but I forgive 
 Freely before this Man ; Heav'n do lb too ! 
 I will not touch thee, fo much as with Shame 
 Of telling it -, let it be fo no more. 
 
 Cal. Why, this is very fine. Mel. I cannot tell 
 What 'tis you mean, but I am apt enough 
 Rudely to thruft into an ignorant Fault, 
 But let me know it; happily, 'tis nought 
 But Mifconftrucftion -, and, where I am clear, 
 I will not take Forgivenefs of the Gods, 
 Much lefs of you. King. Nay, if you (land fo flifF, 
 I fhall call back my Mercy. Mel. I want Smoothnefs 
 To thank a Man for pardoning of a Crime 
 I never knew. 
 
 King. Not to inft ru(5l your Knowledge, but to Ihew you 
 My Ears are every where ; you meant to kill me. 
 And get the Fort to 'fcape. Mel. Pardon me. Sir j 
 My Bluntnefs will be pardoned : (58) You prelerve 
 A Race of idle People here about you. 
 Facers, and Talkers, to defame the Worth 
 
 Of 
 
 (57) Melantius, you cannot eaft/y concei've'\ All the Copies, after the 
 fourth Imprefiion in ^arto, in 1638, have deftroy'd the Senfe and 
 Mcafure too by this Negative. I have made bold to expunge it, by 
 the Authority of the better Copies. 
 
 (58) ■ You prefer<ve 
 
 A Race of idle People here about )'ou, 
 
 Eaters and Tuliers,] This is the Reading of the m(J)-e modern 
 Copies, after the Deinife of tlie Authors; and, as I prefame, an Al- 
 teration made by the Players, who ciihcr did not underftand, or like 
 the Sound of, the original Word. Facers is the Reading of the eldeft 
 ^arto ; and, I dure fay, the Term intended by the Poets j fince they 
 Vol. I. F make 
 
66 7Z^ Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 Of thofe that do things worthy. The Man tliat utter'd tliis 
 
 Had pcrifli'd without Food, bc't who it will. 
 
 But for this Arm that fenc'd him from the Foe. 
 
 And if I thought you gave a Faith to this. 
 
 The Plainnefs of my Nature would Ipeak more; 
 
 Give me a Pardon (for you ought to do't) 
 
 To kill him that fpake this. Cal. Ay, that will be 
 
 The End of all, then I am fairly paid 
 
 For all my Care and Service. Mel. That old Man 
 
 Who calls me Enemy, and of whom I 
 
 (Though I will never match my Hate fo low) 
 
 Have no good Thought, would yet, I think, excufc me. 
 
 And fwear, he thought me wrong'd in this. Cal. Who, I ? 
 
 Thou fhamelefs Fellow ! Didft thou not (peak to me 
 
 Of it thy felf ? Mel. O, then it came from him 
 
 Cal. From mc! who fhould it come from bur, from me? 
 Mel. Nay, I believe, your Malice is enough, 
 But I ha' loft my Anger. Sir, I hope. 
 You are well fatisfied. King. Lyfippus^ chear 
 Amintcr and his Lady •, there's no Sound 
 Comes from you; I will come and do't my felf. 
 
 Amin. You have done already. Sir, for me, I thank you. 
 King. Melantius., I do credit tliis from him. 
 How flight foe'er you make't. 
 Mel. 'Tis ftrange, you fhould. 
 Cal. 'Tis ftrange, he ftiould believe an old Man's Word, 
 That never lied in his Life. Mel. I talk not to thee ; 
 Shall the wild Words of this diftemper'd Man, 
 Fran tick with Age and Sorrow, make a Breach 
 Betwixt your Maj eft y and me .'' 'T was wrong 
 To hearken to him ; but to credit him. 
 As much, at leaft, as I have Pow*r to bear. 
 
 make ufe of it in feveral other Paffagcs of their Works. So Calianax 
 fays in the third Aft of this Play : 
 
 Honx-e'ver 1 tnay fet a Face, and talk, 
 
 1 am not 'val'taiit. 
 And fo Calijlay towards the End of the third Aft of the Lovers' 
 Progrefs ; 
 
 ■ Leave Facing, "" twill not ferve you : 
 
 This Impudence becomes thee nuorje than Lying, 
 &c. &c. _ 
 
 But 
 
The Ma'td^s Tragedy, 67 
 
 But pardon me ; whiJft I fpeak onJy Truth, 
 
 I may commend my felf I iiave beflow'd 
 
 My carelefs Blood with you, and fliou'd be loth 
 
 To think an Adion that wou'd make me lofe 
 
 That, and my Thanks too. When I was a Boy, 
 
 I thrufl: my felf into my Country's Caufe, 
 
 And did a Deed that pluck'd five Years from Time, 
 
 And ftil'd me Man then. And for You, my King, 
 
 (59) Your Subjecls all have fed by Virtue of 
 
 My Arm. This Sw^ord of mine hath plow'd the Ground;, 
 
 And They have reapt the Fruit of it in Peace •, 
 
 And You your felt have liv*d at home in Eafe. 
 
 So terrible I grew, that without Swords 
 
 My Name hath fetch'd you Conqueft; and my Heart 
 
 And Limbs are ftill the fame ; my Will as great 
 
 To do you Sei-vice : Let me not be paid 
 
 With fuch a ftrange Diftruft King. Melantius, 
 
 I held it great Injuftice to believe 
 
 Thine Enemy, and did not ; if I did, 
 
 I do not, let that fatisfy : What, flruck 
 
 With Sadnefs all ! More Wine, 
 
 Cal. A few fine Words 
 Have overthrown my Truth : Ah, th'art a Villain,' 
 
 Mel. Why, thou wert better let me have the Fort; 
 Dotard, I will difgrace thee thus for ever ; \_AJide» 
 
 There fhall no Credit lie upon thy Words ; 
 Think better, and deliver it. CaL My Liege, 
 He's at me now again to do it; fpeak; 
 Deny it, if thou canft •, examine him 
 While he is hot, for if he cool again. 
 He will forfwear it. King. This is Lunacy, 
 I hope, Melantius. Mel. He hath left himfelf 
 Much, fince his Daughter mifs'd the Happinefs 
 
 (59) ^'"' SufyeSis all are fed hy 'Virtue of my ^rm. 
 
 This Sivord of mine hath ploi.>jd the Ground, 
 
 And reapt th- Fruit in Peace. 
 
 And your felf ha-je ll'v'd at home in Eafe. ] We have on!/ 
 fotnething like Metre left, and in the third Verfe as little Senfe. For 
 where is the Merit of reaping the Fruits of his own Valour ? He 
 would fay juft the contrary. The whole, I am well affur'd, originally 
 ran^ as I have regulated it. Mr. SeivarJ, 
 
 F 2 My 
 
68 The Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 My Siller gainM-, and though he call me Foe, 
 I pity him. Cal. Pity ? A Tox upon you ! 
 
 (60) Mel. Mark, his diforder'd Words, and at the Mafquc, 
 'Diagoras knows, he rag'd, and rail*d at me, 
 And call'd a Lady Whore, fo innocent 
 She underflood him not •, but it becomes 
 Both you and me too to forgive Diftradlion ; 
 Pardon him, as I do. Cal. Pll not fpeak for thee, 
 Por all thy Cunning-, if you will be fafe 
 Chop off his Head, for there was never known 
 So impudent a Rafcal. King. Some, that love him. 
 Get him to Bed : Why, Pity lliould not let 
 Age make it felf contemptible ; we muil be 
 All Old •, have him away. Mel. Calianax., 
 The King believes you-, come, you fhall go home, 
 And reft ; you ha' done well ; you'll give it up 
 When I have us'd you thus a Month, I hope. 
 
 Cal. Now, now, 'tis plain. Sir, he does move me ftill; 
 Pie fays, he knows Pll give him up the Fort, 
 "When he has us'd me thus a Month : I am mad. 
 Am I not, ftill .'' Omnes. Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 Cal. I ihall be mad indeed, if you do thus ; 
 Why would you truft a fturdy Fellow there 
 (That has no Virtue in him, all's in his Sword) 
 Before me .^ Do but take his Weapons from him. 
 And he's an Afs, and Pm a very Fool, 
 Both with him, and widiout liim, as you ufe me. 
 
 Omnes. Ha, ha, ha! 
 
 King. 'Tis well, Calianax ; but if you ufe 
 This once again, I fhall intreat fome Other 
 To fee your Offices be well difcharg*d. 
 Be merry. Gentlemen, it grows fomewhat late. 
 Jmintor, thou would'ft be a-bed again. 
 
 Anin. Yes, Sir. King. And you, Evadne-, let me take 
 Thee in my Arms, Melantius, and believe 
 Thou art, as thou deferveft to be, my Friend 
 
 (6©) King. Mark his diforderd Words, and, at the Ma/que, 
 
 Mel. Diagoras kno-uus, &c. ] I have affix'd the Lines here 
 to the right Charadlers, from the Authority of the Eldell ^arto, 
 Mr. Seivard likewife prefcrib'd this Alteration to me. 
 
 StiU, 
 
*The Matd^s Tf-agedy, 69 
 
 Still, and for ever. Good Calia}ia\\ 
 Sleep foundly, it will bring thee to thy felf. 
 
 [Exeunt all hut Mel. and Cal. 
 
 Cal. Sleep foundly ! I fleep foundly now, I hope, 
 I cou'd not be thus elfe. How dar'fl thou (lay 
 Alone with me, knowing how thou haft us'd me ? 
 
 Mel. You cannot blaft me with your Tongue, and that's 
 The ftrongeft Part you have about you. Cal. I 
 Do look for fome great Punifhment for this. 
 For I begin to forget all my Hate, 
 And take't unkindly that mine Enemy 
 Should ufe me fo extremely fcurvily. 
 
 Mel. I fhall melt too, if you begin to take 
 Unkindnefles : I never meant you Hurt. 
 
 Cal. Thou' It anger me again ; thou wretched Rogue, 
 Meant me no Hurt ! Difgrace me with the King ; 
 Lofe all my Offices! This is no Hurt, 
 Is it .'' I prithee, what doft thou call Hurt ? 
 
 Mel. To poifon Men, becaufe they love me not ; 
 To call the Credit of Mens Wives in queftion; 
 To murder Children betwixt me and Land ; 
 This is all Hurt. Cal. All this, tliou think'ft, is Sport ; 
 For mine is worfe : But ufe thy Will with me ; 
 For betwixt Grief and Anger I cou'd ciy. 
 
 Mel. Be wife then, and be fafe -, thou may'ft revenge. 
 
 Cal. Ay, o' the King .-* I wou'd revenge o' thee. 
 
 Mel. 1 hat you muft plot your felf. 
 
 Cal. I'm a line Plotter. 
 
 Mel. The Short is, I will hold thee with the King 
 In this Perplexity, till Pecvifl-inefs 
 And thy Diigrace have laid thee in thy Grave : 
 But if thou wilt deliver up the Fort, 
 I'll take thy trembling Body in my Arms, 
 And bear thee over Dangers • thou IKalt hold 
 Thy wonted State. Cal. If I fhould tell the King, 
 Can'ft thou dcny't again '^. Mel. Try and believe. 
 
 Cal. Nay then, thou canft bring any thing about : 
 Mclanthu., thou flialt have the Fort. Mel. Why, well j 
 Here let our Hate be buried, and this Hand 
 Shall right us Bi;th j give me thy aged Breafb 
 To compafs. F 3 To 
 
70 The Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 Cal. Nay, I do not love thee yet : 
 I cannot well endure to look on thee : 
 And, if I thought it were a Courtefy, 
 Thou fhould'ft not have it : But I am difgrac'd ; 
 My Offices are to be ta*en away •, 
 And if I did but hold this Fort a Day, 
 I do believe, the King would take it from mc. 
 And give it thee, things are fo flrangcly carried ; 
 Ne'er thank me for't ; but yet the King fhall know 
 There was fome fuch thing in't i told him of; 
 And that I was an honeft Man. Mel. He'll buy 
 That Knowledge very dearly. Dipbilus, 
 
 Enter Diphilus. 
 
 What News with thee ? Diph. This were a Night indeed 
 To do it in ; the King hath fent for her. 
 
 Mel. She fhall perform it then ; go, Diphilus, 
 And take from this good Man, my worthy Friend, 
 The Fort ; he'll give it thee. Diph. Ha' you got that ? 
 
 Cal. Art thou of the fame Breed.'' canft thou deny 
 This to the King too .'' Diph, With a Confidence 
 As great as his. Cal. Faith, like enough. Mel. Away, 
 And ufe him kindly. Cal. Touch not me, I hate 
 The whole Strain of you : if thou follow me 
 A great way off, I'll give thee up the Fort ; 
 And hang your felves. 
 
 Mel. Be gone. Diph. He's finely wrought. 
 
 [Exeunt Cal. and Diph. 
 
 Mel. This is a Night, *fpite of Aftronomers, 
 To do the Deed in ; I will wafh the Stain, 
 That refls upon our Houfe, off with his Blood. 
 
 Enter Amintor. 
 
 'j^nin. Melantius, now affift me : if thou beeft 
 That which thou fay'ft, affift me : I have lolt 
 All my Diftempers, and have found a Rage 
 Sopleafing-, help me. Mel. Who can fee him thus. 
 And not fwear Vengeance.'' What's the matter. Friend .'' 
 
 Anin. Out with thy Sword j and, hand in hand with me, 
 
 Rufn 
 
The Maid's Tragedy. 71 
 
 Rufli to the Chamber of this hated King ; 
 And fink him witli the Weight of all his Sins 
 To Hell for ever. Mel. 'Twere a rafh Attempt, 
 Not to be done with Safety : Let your Reafon 
 Plot your Revenge, and not your Paflion. 
 
 Amin. If thou refufeft me in thefe Extreams, 
 Thou art no Friend : He fent for her to me ; 
 By Heav'n, to me; my {<d^\ and, I mud tell yc, 
 I love her as a Stranger; there is Worth 
 In that vile Woman, worthy things, Melantius ; 
 And ihe repents. I'll do't my fclf alone. 
 Though I be flain. Farewel. Mel. He'll overthrow 
 My whole Defign with Madnefs. Amintor^ think 
 What 'tis thou doft; I dare as much as Valour; 
 But 'tis the King, the King, the King, Amintor^ 
 With whom thou fight'ft ; I know, that he is honeft, 
 
 lAfide, 
 And this will work with him. Amin. I cannot tell 
 What thou hall laid ; but thou Jias charm*d my Sword 
 Out of my Hand, and left me fliaking here 
 Defenceless. Mel. I will take it up for thee. 
 
 Amin. What a wild Beaft is uncollected Man \ 
 (61) The Thing, that we call Honour, bears us all 
 Headlong to Sin, and yet it felf is not one. 
 
 Mel. Alas, how variable are thy Thoughts ! 
 
 Amiyi. Juft like my Fortunes : I was run to that 
 I purpos'd to have chid thee for. Some Plot 
 I did diftruft, thou hadfl: againft the King, 
 By that old Fellow's Carriage : but take heed •, 
 
 (61) The Thing that ive call Honour ^ hears us all 
 
 Headlong unto 5/«, and yet it felf is nothing.] This is One 
 of thofe Places, which was in danger of being irrecoverably fpoilt ; 
 becaufe, as it carries fomething of Senfe with it, the exafteft Reader, 
 unlefs particularly attentive, (which no Man can be at all times) 
 might overlook it. But what, can Amintor, who has fo nice a Senfe 
 of Honour, fay, k'^zx." \:\% nothing? Fa^ajf^ in his Catechifm might 
 properly fav fo : becaufe it was nothing he could either fee, feel, eat, 
 or drink : But a Man, who had fo ftrong a Feeling of it as Amintor, 
 could not join with him. It was then very near hurrying him into 
 Treafon, a Crime his Confcience, when awaken'd, ftartledat. How 
 beautiful therefore ii the Sentiment, as the Poets undoubtedly wrote it? 
 
 Mr. Seaward. 
 
 F 4 There's 
 
y2 7Z^ Maid's 7*?'agedy. 
 
 There's not the leaft Limb growing to a King, 
 But carries Thunder in it. Mel. I have none [ber, 
 
 Agmnft him. Amin. Why? come then •, and Hill remem- 
 We may not think Revenge. Mel. I will remember. 
 
 [^Exeunt. 
 
 ACTV. SCENE I. 
 
 j^ Aiitechamher to the King'; Bedchamber, 
 
 Enter Evadne, and a Gentleman. 
 
 Evad. C I R, is the King a-bed .' 
 
 ^ Gent. Madam, an Houi* ago. 
 
 Evad. Give me the Key then, and let none be near ; 
 'Tis the King's Pleafure. 
 
 Gent. I underftand you. Madam, 
 'Would, it were mine. I muft not wifh good Reft 
 Unto your Ladyfhip. Evad. You talk, you talk. 
 
 Gent. 'Tis all I dare do, Madam ; but the King 
 Will wake and then, 
 
 Evad. Saving your Imagination, pray, good Night, Sir. 
 
 Gent. A good Night be it then, and a long one. Madam. 
 I am gone. 
 
 Evad. The Night grows horrible, and all about me 
 Like my black Purpofe. O the Confcience 
 Of a loft Virgin ! Whither wilt thou pull me ? 
 To what things difmal, as the Depth of Hell, 
 (62) Wilt thou provoke me ? Let no Woman dare 
 From this Hour be difloyal : If her Heart be 
 Flefh, if fti' have Blood, and can fear ; 'tis a Daring 
 Above that defperate Fool that left his Peace, 
 
 (62) — — ■■ ■ Let no Man dare 
 
 From this Hour be dijloyal: If her Heart 
 
 Be Flejh, &c.] Thus the Tolio in 1679, ^"^ ^^ fubfcquent 
 Editions, to the Detriment both of the Numbers and Grammar. I 
 have retriev'd the Reading of the old ^aria's in 1619, 1622, and 
 1630; which cures the Lamenefs of x.\it Metre, and the Defed in 
 Concord. 
 
 And 
 
Tl^e Maid's Tragedy. 73 
 
 And went to Sea to fight : 'Tis fo many Sins, 
 {<o'^) An Age cannot repent 'em ; and fo great. 
 The Gods want Mercy for : Yet I mull through 'em. 
 I have begun a Slaughter on my Honour, 
 And I mull end it there : 
 
 [y/ Bcor is operCd^ and the King difcovefd a-hed. 
 He fleeps. Good Heav'ns ! 
 Why give you Peace to this untempcrate Beafl:, 
 That hath fo long tranfgrefs'd you ? I muit kill him. 
 And I will do it bravely : The meer Joy 
 Tells me, I merit in it : Yet I muft not 
 Thus tamely do it, as he fleeps ; that wtre 
 To rock him to another World : My Vengeance 
 Shall take him waking, and then lay before him 
 The Number of his Wrongs and Punifhments. 
 I'll fliakc his Sins like Furies, 'till I waken 
 His evil Angel, his fick Confcience ; 
 And then I'll ftrike him dead. — King, by your Leave: 
 
 \^ies his Arms to the Bed. 
 I dare not truft your Strength. Your Grace and I 
 Muft grapple upon even Terms no more. 
 
 So, if he rail me not from my Refolution, 
 
 I fhall be ftrong enough. My Lord the King ! 
 My Lord ! he fleeps, as if he meant to wake 
 No more ; my Lord \ is he not dead already ? 
 My Lord ; . 
 
 King. Who's that } Evad. O you fleep foundly. Sir! 
 
 King. My dear Evadne, 
 I have been dreaming of thee j come to Bed. 
 
 {63) ■ "'tis fo manf Sins, 
 
 An Age cannot prevent ''rm\\ If a Woman be difloyal, and 
 aflually dares to commit the Sin, how can an Age, or twenty- 
 Ages, prevent it? Yet thus all the Editions, that I have ever feen, 
 without Regard to Common-fenfe. The flight Emendation, that I have 
 ventured at, departs but very little from the Traces of the Letters, 
 but gives a very confjderable Alteration in Sentiment: Viz. That a 
 Woman, who once tranlgrefles againfl her conjugal Fidelity, pluck* 
 fo many Sins on herfelf in Confequencc of it ; that, if She were to 
 live an Hundred Years, She would not have fufficient Time to repent 
 of them. Both Mr. Seivard and Mr. Symffon concurr'd with me in 
 ftarting this Emendation. 
 
 El'ad. 
 
74 The Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 Evad. I am come at lengtli, Sir, but how welcome ? 
 
 King. What pretty new Device is this, Evadne? 
 (64) What, do you tie me to you ? By my Life, 
 This is a quaint one : Come, my Dear, and kifs me i 
 {Gfj,) I'll be thy Mars-, to Bed, my Queen of Love : 
 Let us be caught together, that the Gods 
 May fee, and envy our Embraces. 
 
 Evad. Stay, Sir, itay •, 
 You are too hot, and I have brought you Phyfick 
 To temper your high Veins. 
 
 King. Prithee, to Bed then ; let me take it warm ; 
 There you fhalloknow the State of my Body better. 
 
 Evad. I know, you have a furfeited foul Body j 
 And you mufl bleed. 
 
 King. Bleed! 
 
 Evad. Ay, you fhall bleed : Lie ftill -, and if the Devil, 
 Your Lull, will give you Leave, repent : This Steel 
 Comes to redeem the Honour that you dole. 
 King, my fair Name ; which nothing but thy Death 
 Can anfwer to the World. King. How's this, Evadne? 
 
 Evad. I am not fhe j nor bear I in this Breaft 
 So much cold Spirit to be call'd a Woman : 
 I am a Tiger ; I am any thing. 
 That knows not Pity. Stir not -, if thou dofl, 
 I'll take thee unprepar'd; thy Fears upon thee. 
 That make thy Sins look double ; and fo fend thee 
 {66) (By my Revenge, I will) to feek thofe Torments 
 
 (64) what do you tye me to you ly my Lo've?'] This is the Nonfenfi- 
 cal Reading and Puncluation of all the Editions. I need not ufe any 
 Words to juflify the Alteration I have made: The Reafon for it is 
 felf-ev'ident. 
 
 (65) 77/ ie thy Mars ;] The Allufion here is to the Words of Ot//J 
 in the fourth Book of his Metamorphofes, where Man and Venus are 
 caught in Conjundion by a fubtle Net which her Husband Vulcan had 
 bound over them, and expofed them to the View of the Gods. 
 
 • Turpes jacuere Itgati 
 
 Turpiter, atque aliquis de Diis non trijlibus optat 
 Sic fieri turpis. 
 
 (66) ■ '■ — to look thofe Torments 
 
 Vrepard for fuch black Souls.'\ Look ozcnxi in the Line im- 
 mediately preceding ; and the Repetition of it is no manner of Ele- 
 gance. Befides, to look thofe Torments, is no EngUJh ExprefTion : It 
 jiiull cither be, feek^ or brook, p , j 
 
'the Maid's 'Tragedy, 75 
 
 PreparM for fuch black Souls. 
 
 King. Thou doft not mean tliis ; *tis impoffible : 
 Thou art too fweet, and gentle. 
 
 Evad. No, I am not: 
 I am as foul as thou art, and can number 
 As many fuch Plells here. I was once fair, 
 Once I was lovely -, not a blowing Rofe 
 More chaftly fweet, till thou, thou, thou, foul Canker, 
 (Stir not) didft poifon me: I was a World of Virtue, 
 Till your curft Court and you (Hell blefs you for*t !) 
 With your Temptations on Temptations 
 Made me give up mine Honour: For which, (King) 
 I 'm com.e to kill thee. King. No. Evad. I am. 
 
 King. Thou art not. 
 I prithee, fpeak not thefe things ; thou art gentle. 
 And wert not meant thus rugged. 
 
 Evad. Peace, and hear me. 
 Stir nothing but your Tongue, and that for Mercy 
 To thofe above us \ by whofe Lights I vow, 
 Thofe blefled Fires that Ihot to fee our Sin, 
 If thy hot Soul had Subflance with thy Blood, 
 I would kill that too •, which, being paft my Steel, 
 (^6'j^ My Tongue fliall reach. Thou art a fhamelefs Villain, 
 A thing out of the Overcharge of Nature ; 
 Sent, like a thick Cloud, to dilperfe a Plague 
 Upon weak catching Women ; fuch a Tyrant, 
 That for his Luft would fell away his Subjects ; 
 Ay, all his Hcav'n hereafter. 
 
 King. Hear, Evadne., 
 Thou Soul of Sweetnefs, hear ! I am thy King. [you, 
 
 Evad. Thou art my Shame -, lie ftill, there's none about 
 Within your Cries -, all Promifes of Safety 
 Are but deluding Dreams. Thus, thus, thou foul Man, 
 Thus I begin my Vengeance. [Stabs him. 
 
 King. Hold, Evadne ! 
 
 (67) ■ ivhich, being fajl my Steel, 
 
 My Tongue Jhall teach ] 'Tis evident from Common-fenfc, 
 that I have retriev'd the true Reading here. A Corruption, ex- 
 adly the fame, had poffcfj'd a Paffage in Shake fpeare'i Coriolanus, till 
 I co.-re(!\ed it. Mr. ^fifa;-*/ likcwile Itarted this Emendation here. 
 
 I do 
 
76 The Maid's T*7'agedy, 
 
 I do command thee hold. 
 
 E'uad. I do not mean, Sir, 
 To part fo fairly with you ; we mufl change 
 More of thefe Love-tricks yet. 
 
 King. What bloody ^'illain 
 Provok'd thee to diis Murder .^ 
 
 Evad. Thou, thou, Monfter. King. Oh ! 
 
 E'vad. Thou kept' It me brave at Court, and whor'd'fl 
 me. King ; 
 Then married me to a young Noble Gentleman ; 
 And whor'dTt me ftill. King. Evadne., pity me. 
 
 Evad. Hell take me then! This for my Lord Amintor\ 
 This for my noble Brother ; and this Stroke 
 For the moll: wrong'd of Women. [A7//j him. 
 
 King Oh ! I die. 
 
 Evad. Die all our Faults together ! I forgive thee. [Exit, 
 
 Enter two of the Bedchamber. 
 
 1 . Come, now (he's gone, let's enter \ the King expe(5ts 
 it, and will be angry. 
 
 2. 'Tis a fine Wench; we'll have a fnap at her one 
 of thefe Nights, as fhe goes from him. 
 
 1. Content. How quickly he had done with her! 
 
 I fee. Kings can do no more that way than other mortal 
 People. 
 
 2. How fad he is ! I cannot hear him breathe. 
 I . Either the Tapers give a feeble Light, 
 
 Or he looks very pale. 2. And fo he does ; 
 Pray Heaven, he be well ! let's look : Alas ! 
 He's ftiff, wounded and dead : Ho, Trcafon, Treafon ! 
 
 1 . Run forth and call, 
 
 2. Treafon, Treafon ! [^Exit Gent, 
 I . This will be laid on us : Who can believe, 
 
 A Woman cou'd do this ^ 
 
 Enter Cleon and Lyfippus. 
 
 Cleon. Flow now, where's the Traitor .' 
 
 I. Fled, fled away -, but there her woful Ad lies ftill 
 
 Cleon. Her A61 ! a Woman ! 
 
 Lyf. Where's the Body ? 
 
 1. There. 
 
The Maid's Tragedy, *nn 
 
 I. There. 
 
 Lyf. Farewel, thou worthy Man ! There were two Bonds 
 That tied our Loves, a Brother and a King ; 
 The Icaft of which might fetch a Flood of Tears : 
 But fuch the Mifery of Grcatnefs is, 
 They have no time to mourn •, then, pardon me. 
 Sirs, whicli way went fhe ? 
 
 Enter Strato. 
 
 Stra. Never follow her j 
 Por fhe, alas ! was but the Inftrument. 
 News is now brought in, that Melantius 
 Has got the Fort, and ftands upon the Wall ; 
 And with a loud Voice calls thofe few, that pafs 
 (68) At this dead time of Night, delivering 
 The Innocence of this Ad:. 
 
 Lyf. Gentlemen, I am your King. 
 
 Stra. We do acknowledge it. 
 
 Lyf. I would, I were not ! Follow, all , for this 
 Mufl have a fudden Stop. [^Exeunt, 
 
 Enter Melantius, Diphilus, and Calianax, on the 
 Battlements of the Fort. 
 
 Mel. If the dull People can believe I am arm*d, 
 (Be conftant, Diphilus j) now we have time. 
 Either to bring our banifh'd Honours home. 
 Or create new ones in our Ends. 
 
 Diph. 1 fear not ; 
 My Spirit lies not that way. Courage, Calianax. 
 
 Cal. 'Would, I had any! you fliould quickly know it- 
 
 Mel. Speak to the People ; thou art eloquent. 
 
 Cal. 'Tis a fine Eloquence to come to the Gallows ; 
 You were born to be my End. The Devil take you I 
 Now mull I hang for Company. 'Tis ftrange, 
 I fhould be old, and neither wife nor valiant. 
 
 (68) ■ •— ■ deli'vering 
 
 The innocent of this Ad ^ Thus the Folio in. 1679, and the 
 fubfequent Editions from it. The true Reading I have reftored from 
 the old ^aria's: And both Mr. Stivard and Mr. Sympfon faw the 
 Corruption. 
 
 Enter 
 
7 8 ^^ Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 Enter Lyfippus, Diagoras, Clcon, Strato, and Guard, 
 
 Lyf. See, where he (lands, as boldly confident. 
 As it he had his full Command about him. 
 
 Stra. He looks, as if he had the better Caufe, Sir ; 
 Under your gracious Pardon, let me fpeak it ! 
 Though he be mighty-fpirited, and forward 
 To all great Things -, to all Things of that Danger 
 Worfe Men fhake at the telling of; yet, certainly, 
 I do believe him noble -, and this Adlion 
 Rather puU'd on, than fought •, his Mind was ever 
 As worthy as his Hand. Lyf. *Tis my Fear too ; 
 Heaven forgive all ! Summon him. Lord Clean . 
 
 Clecn. Ho, from the Walls there. • 
 
 Mel. Worthy Cleon^ welcome ; 
 We could have wifh'd you here, Lord ; you are honeft. 
 Cal. Well, thou art as flattering a Knave, though I dare 
 
 not tell you fo, • [^Afide, 
 
 Lyf. Melantius\ 
 Mel. Sir. 
 
 Lyf. I am forry, that we meet thus ; our old Love 
 Never requir'd fuch Diflance ; pray Heav'n, 
 You have not left yourfelf, and fought this Safety 
 More out of Fear than Honour ; you have loft 
 A noble Mafter, which your Faith, Melantius, 
 Some think, might have preferv'd ; yet you know beft. 
 
 Cal. When time was, I was mad ; fome, that dares fight, 
 I hope, will pay this Rafcal. 
 
 Mel. Royal young Man, whofe Tears look lovely on 
 Had they been fhed for a deferving One, [thee I 
 
 They had been lafling Monuments. Thy Brother, 
 While he was good, I call'd him King ; and ferv'd him 
 With that flrong Faith, that moft unwearied Valour, 
 {6^) Pull'd People from the fartheft Sun to feek him, 
 And beg his Friendfhip -, — I was then his Soldier. 
 
 (69) Puird People from the fartheft Sun to feek him ; 
 
 And by his Friend/hip, 1 nuas then his Soldier ; ] Thus this 
 Paffage has been moft erroneoufly pointed thro' all the Editions, con- 
 trary to Common-fenfe, and the Author's Intentions. The Werd beg 
 is owing to the Authority of the ^arto in 1619 ; which happily hclp'd 
 me to redify the Pointing and Senfe: Tho' Mr. Seiuard likewife 
 pointed out the true Reading. gut 
 
l*he Maid's Tragedy, yg 
 
 But fince his hot Pride drew him to difgrace me. 
 And brand my noble Adions with his Lufl, 
 (That never-cur'd Difhonour of my Sifter, 
 Bafe Stain of Whore in her ; and, which is worfe. 
 The Joy to make it ftill fo) hke myfelf. 
 Thus have I flung him oft with my Allegiance ; 
 And ftand here mine own Juftice, to revenge 
 What I have fufter'd in him j and this old Man, 
 Wrong'd almoft to Lunacy. 
 
 Cal. Who I ? You'd draw me in. I have had no Wrong, 
 I do difclaim ye all. 
 
 Mel. The Ihort is this ; 
 'Tis no Ambition to hft up myfelf 
 Urgeth me thus •, I do defire again 
 To be a Subjecfl, fo I may be freed ; 
 IF not, I know my Strength, and will unbuild 
 This goodly Town ; be fpeedy, and be wife. 
 In a Reply. Stra. Be fudden, Sir, to tie 
 All up again ; what's done is paft Recall, 
 And paft you to revenge ; and there are thoufands, 
 That wait for fuch a troubled Hour as this ; 
 Throw him the Blank. Lyf. Melantius^ write in that 
 Thy Choice, my Seal is at it. 
 
 Mel. It was our Honours drew us to this Adl, 
 Not Gain ; and we will only work our Pardon. 
 Cal. Put my Name in too. 
 Biph. You difclaim*d us but now, Calianax, 
 Cal. That's all one ; 
 I'll not be hang'd hereafter by a Trick ; 
 I'll have it in. 
 
 Mel. You fliall, you fhall ; 
 Come to the back Gate, and we'll call you King, 
 And give you up the Fort. 
 
 Lyf. Away, away. [^Exeunt, 
 
 SCENE changes fo Amintor'j Houfe. 
 
 Enter Afpatia ;'« Man^s Apparel. 
 
 Afp. This is my fatal Hour ; Heav'n may forgive 
 My ralli Attempt, that caufelefly hath laid 
 
 Griefs 
 
8o 7^^ Maicfs Tragedy, 
 
 Griefs on me that will never kt mc reft : 
 And put a Woman's Heart into my Bread, 
 It is more Honour for you, that 1 die ; 
 For llie, that can endure the Mifery 
 That I have on me, and be patient too. 
 May live, and laugh at all that yoTj can do. 
 God fave you, Sir ! 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 
 Ser. And you. Sir ; what's your Bufinefs ? 
 
 Afp. With you. Sir, now, to do me the fair Office 
 To help me to your Lord. 
 
 Ser. What, wou'd you ferve him ? 
 
 Jfp. I'll do him any Service •, but, to hafte. 
 For my Affairs are earneft, I defire 
 To fpeak with him. Ser. Sir, caufe you're in fuch hafte, 
 I would be loth delay you any longer : 
 You cannot. 
 
 y]fp. It ftiall become you tho', to tell your Lord. 
 
 (70) Ser. Sir, he will li)eak with no Body : But in par- 
 ticular I have in Charge, about no weighty Matters. 
 
 Afp. This is moft ftrange : Art thou Gold-proof.'' there's 
 Help me to him. [for thee ; 
 
 Ser. Pray, be not angry. Sir ; I'll do my beft. [Exit, 
 
 Afp. How ftubbornly this Fellow anfwer'd me ! 
 There is a vile difhoneft Trick in Man, 
 More than in Women : All the Men I meet 
 Appear thus to me, are all harfh and rude ; 
 And have a Subtilty in every thing. 
 Which Love could never know •, but we fond Women 
 Flarbour the eafieft and the fmootheft Thoughts, 
 And think, all ftiall go fo ; it is unjuft. 
 That Men and Women ftiould be match'd together. 
 
 Enter Amintor, and his Man. 
 
 Amin. Where is he ? Ser. There, my Lord. 
 
 (70) But in particular I have in Charge, about no lueicrhty Matters. '\ 
 Thefe Words, which ftiew an Impertinence fo common in all Servants, 
 and a Defire of fifting into every Body's Bufinefs, are only to be found 
 in the firfl; ^arto, in 1619. 
 
 Amin, 
 
Tide Maid's Tragedy, 8i 
 
 'A/«. What wou'd you, Sir ? 
 
 Afp. Pleafe it your Lordfliip to command your Man 
 Out of the Room -, I Ihall deliver things 
 Worthy your Hearing. Amin. Leave us. \Exit Strl 
 
 Afp. O, that that Shape 
 Should bury Falfhood in it ! \^Aftd€, 
 
 Amin. Now your Will, Sir. 
 
 Ajf. When you know me, my Lord, you needs muft 
 My Bufinefs ; and I am not hard to know ; [gueis 
 
 (71) For till the Chance of War mark'd this fmooth Face 
 With thele few Blemifhes, People would call me 
 My Siller's Picture ; and her, mine ; in fhort, 
 I am the Brother to the wrong'd Afpatia. 
 
 Amin. The wrong' dAJpalia! 'Would, thou wcrt lb too 
 Unto the wrong'd Amintoi'! Let me kifs 
 That Fland of thine, in Honour that I bear 
 Unto the wrong'd Afpatia : Here I ftand. 
 That did it ; 'would, he could not ! Gende Youth, 
 Leave me ; for there is fomething in thy Looks, 
 That calls my Sins in a moll hideous Form 
 Into my Mind ; and I have Grief enough 
 Without thy Help. Ajp. I would, I could with Credit? 
 Since I was twelve Years old, I had not feen 
 My Siller till this Hour ; I now arriv'd ; 
 She fent for me to fee her Marriage, 
 (72) A woful one: But They, that are above, 
 Have Ends in every thing. She us'd few Words j 
 But yet enough to make me underftand 
 The Bafenefs of the Injury you did her ; 
 That little Training, I have had, is War j 
 I may behave myfelf rudely in Peace -, 
 I wou'd not though ; I fhall not need to tell you, 
 
 (71) For fill the Change ofWar'\ Chance is a much more common 
 Word, and more to the Purpofe and Meaning of the PafTage. 
 
 Mr. Seaward, 
 
 (72) — But they that are above ^ 
 
 Have Ends in every thing.] How nobly, and to what Ad- 
 vantage, has Shake SPEARE exprei^'d this Sentiment, ia his Hamietf 
 
 j^nd That Jhould teach us, 
 
 There's a Divinity that Jbiipes our Endsy 
 Rough-hevu them hbvo vje vuill. 
 
 Vol. I. G lam 
 
T*he Maid's "Tragedy, 
 
 I am but young •, and would be loth to lofc 
 Honour, that is not eafily gain'd again \ 
 Fairly I mean to deal •, the Age is ilrift 
 For fingle Combats •, and we fliall be ftop'd. 
 If it be publifli'd : If you like your Sword, 
 Ufe it ; if mine appear a better to you. 
 Change ; for the Ground is this, and this the time 
 To end our Difference. 
 
 Ainin. Charitable Youth, 
 (If thou be'ft fuch,) think not, I will maintain 
 So ftrange a Wrong •, and, for thy Sifter's fake, 
 Know, that I could not think that defperate thing 
 I durft not do; yet, to enjoy this World, 
 I would not fee her -, for, beholding thee, 
 I am I know not what ; if I have aught. 
 That may content thee, take it and be gone ; 
 For Death is not fo terrible as thou -, 
 Thine Eyes fhoot GuUt into me. 
 
 Jfp. Thus, Ihe fwore. 
 Thou wou'dft behave thyfelf •, and give me Words, 
 That would fetch Tears into mine Eyes, and (b 
 Thou doft indeed •, but yet fhe bad me watch. 
 Left I were cozen*d ; and be fure to fight. 
 E'er I return'd. 
 
 Anin. That muft not be with me -, 
 For her V\\ die diredtly, but againft her 
 Will never hazard it. Jfp. You muft be urgM ; 
 I do not deal uncivilly with thofe 
 That dare to fight ; but fuch a one as you 
 Muft be us'd thus. [Shejirikes him. 
 
 Amin. I prithee. Youth, take heed ; 
 Thy Sifter is a thing to me fo much 
 Above mine Honour, that I can endure 
 All this ; good Gods ! — a Blow I can endure ; 
 But ftay not, left thou draw a timelefs Death 
 Upon thyfelf. Afp. Thou art fome prating Fellow ; 
 One, that hath ftudied out a Trick to talk 
 And move foft-hearted People ; to be kick*d {She kicks him. 
 Thus, to be kick'd — why fhould he be fo flow \Aftde. 
 In giving me my Death ! Amin. A Man can bear 
 
 No 
 
Tie Maid's Tragedy. 83 
 
 No more, and keep his Flefh ; forgive me then ; 
 
 i vvou'd endure yet, if 1 could ; now Ihew 
 
 Tlie Spirit thou pretend'ft, and underftand, 
 
 {-ji^) Thou haft no Hour to hve : {They fight, 
 
 \Vhat doft thou mean ? 
 
 Tliou canll not fight : The Blows thou mak'ft at me 
 
 Are quite Defides ; and thofe I offer at thee. 
 
 Thou fpread'ft thine Arms, and tak'ft upon thy Breall, 
 
 Alas ! defencelefs. Jfp. I have got enough. 
 
 And my Defire; there is no Place fo fit 
 
 For me to die as here. 
 
 Enter Evadne, her Hands Uoody^ with a Knife^ 
 
 Evad. Jmintor, I am loaden with Events, 
 That fly to make thee happy -, I have Joys, 
 That in a Moment can call back thy Wrongs, 
 And fettle thee in thy free State again ; 
 It is Evadne ftill that follows thee. 
 But not her Mifchicfs. 
 
 Amin. Thou canll not fool me to believe again ; 
 But thou haft Looks and Things fo full of News, 
 That I am ftaid. 
 
 Evad. Noble Amintcr, ptit off thy Amaze •, 
 Let thine Eyes loofe, and fpeak, am I not fair ? 
 Looks not Evadne beauteous -with thefe Rites now ? 
 Were thofe Hours half fo lovely in thine Eyes, 
 When our Hands met before the Holy Man ? 
 I was too foul within to look fair then ; 
 Since I knew 111, I was not free till now. 
 
 Jmin. There is Prefage of fime important thing 
 About thee, which, it feems, thy Tongue hath loft. 
 Thy Hands are bloody, and thou haft a Knife. 
 
 Evad. In this confifts thy Happinefs and mine. 
 Joy to Amintor ! for the King is dead. 
 
 Amin. Thofe have moft Pow'r to hurt us, that we lovej 
 We lay our fleeping Lives within their Arms. 
 
 (73) and underjland. 
 
 Thou haji no Honour to li-je {^ This Nonfenfe, which is tJe- 
 fcendcd down to us from tne Folio Efiition in 1679, I have corredcd 
 by the Authority of the three cldell ^artu^s. Mr, Se=a^r</ likewile 
 diftatcd to mc the Emendation ncccfTary. 
 
 G -2 Why, 
 
84 The Maid^s 'Tragedy, 
 
 Why, thou haft rais'd up Mifchicf to this height. 
 And found out One to out-name thy other Faults ; 
 Thou haft no Intermiffion of thy Sins, 
 But all thy I jfe is a continued 111. 
 Black is thy Colour now, Difeafe thy Nature. 
 Joy to Amintcrl — Thou haft touch' d a Life, 
 The very Name of which had Pow'r to chain 
 Up all my Rage, and calm my wildeft Wrongs. 
 
 Evad. 'Tis done •, and fince I could not find a way 
 To meet thy Love fo clear as through his Life, 
 I cannot now repent it. 
 
 Anmi. Cou'dft thou procure the Gods to fpeak to me. 
 To bid me love this Woman, and forgive -, 
 I think, I fhould fall out with them. Behold, 
 Here lies a Youth, whofe Wounds bleed in my Breaft, 
 Sent by his violent Fate to fetch his Death 
 From my flow Hand : And to augment my Woe, 
 You now are prefent ftain'd with a King's Blood 
 Moft violently fhed. This keeps Night here, 
 (74) And throws an unknown Wildernefs about me. 
 
 Jfp. Oh, oh, oh! [then, 
 
 jdmin. No more, purfue me not. Evad. Forgive me 
 And take me to thy Bed : We may not part. 
 
 Amin. Forbear, be wife, and let my Rage go this way. 
 
 Evad. 'Tis you that I wou'd ftay, not it. 
 
 Amin. Take heed, 
 It will return with me. Evad. If it muft be, 
 I fhall not fear to meet it ; take me home. 
 
 Jmin. Thou Monfter of all Cruelty, forbear. 
 
 Evad. For Heav'n's fake look more calm ; 
 Thine Eyes are fharper 
 
 Than thou canft make thy Sword. Amin. Away, away; 
 Thy Knees are more to me than Violence. 
 I'm worfe than fick to fee Knees follow me 
 For that I muft not grant ; for Heav'n's fake, ftand. 
 
 (7^) an uvknonvti WMtrr\di\ This is a Word here 
 
 appropriated by the Poets to fignify yVildnefs \ from the Verb, be<wilder. 
 M I LTO N feems to have been pleas'd with the Liberty of ufing it m 
 this Senfe, as he has copied it in his Paradife Loft ; B. ix. v. 245. 
 The Paths and Bc^j:frs doubt not but our joint Hands 
 Will keep from Wildernefs iKiith Eafe\ 
 
 Evad. 
 
 I 
 
Z5^ Maid^s Tf^agedy, 85 
 
 ■ Evad. Receive me tlien. 
 
 ylmin. I dare not ftay thy Language ; 
 Ith' midfl of all my Anger and my Grief, 
 Thou doft awake fomething that troubles me. 
 And fays, / lov^d thee once ; I dare not (lay ; 
 There is no End of Women's Reafoning. [^Leaves her. 
 
 Evad. Jmmtor, thou fhalt love me once again ; 
 Go, I am calm j farewel ; and Peace for ever ! 
 Evadne, whom thou hat'ft, will die for thee. [Kills her/elf. 
 
 Amin. I have a little human Nature yet, 
 That's left for thee, that bids me ftay thy Hand. [Returns, 
 
 Evad. Thy Hand was welcome, but it came too late ; 
 Oh, I am loft ! the heavy Sleep makes Hafte. [She dies. 
 
 Afp. Oh, oh, oh! 
 
 Aniin. This Earth of mine doth tremble, and I fed 
 A ftark affrighted Motion in my Blood : 
 My Soul grows weary of her Houfe, and I 
 All over am a Trouble to my felf 
 There is fome hidden Pow'r in thefe dead Things, 
 That calls my Flefti unto 'em ; I am cold ; 
 Be refolutc, and bear 'em Company : 
 There's fomething yet, which I am loth to leave. 
 There's Man enough in me to meet the Fears, 
 That Death can bring-, and yet, 'wou'd, it were done! 
 I can find nothing in the whole Difcourfe 
 Of Death, I durft not meet the boldeft Way ; 
 Yet ftill, betwixt the Reafon and the Ad, 
 The Wrong, I to Afpatia did, ftands up. 
 (75) I have not fuch another Fault to anfwer; 
 i'hough fhe may juftly arm her felf with Scorn 
 And Hate of me, my Soul will part lefs troubled. 
 When 1 have paid to her in Tears my Sorrow. 
 I will not leave this A(5t unfatisfied. 
 It all, that's left in me, can anfwer it. 
 
 Afp. Was it a Dream.'' There ftands Amintor ftill : 
 Or I dream ftill. 
 
 (75) I have not fuch a Fault to an/'wer^ 
 
 Tho^ J/je may jujily arm nvit/j Scortt'\ The Lamenefs of thefe two 
 Verfes, both in Senle and Meafure, I have cur'd from the Authority 
 ol the three eldeft ^arta%. 
 
 G '\ Atnitt, 
 
86 "The Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 Amin. How doft thou? Speak, receive my Love, and 
 Thy Blood climbs up to his old Place again : [Help : 
 
 There's Hope of thy Recovery. 
 
 Jfp. Did you not nzm^ JJpati a? Amin. I did. 
 
 Afp. And talk'd of Tears and Sorrow unto her.? 
 
 Amin. 'Tis true, and 'till thefe happy Signs in thee 
 Did ftay my Courfe, 'twas thither I was going. 
 
 Afp. Thou'rt there already, and thefe Wounds are hers : 
 Thofe Threats, I brought with me, fought not Revenge ^, 
 But came to fetch this Blefling from thy Hand. 
 I am Afpatia yet. 
 
 jimin. Dare my Soul ever look abroad again ? 
 
 Afp. I fhall, fure, live, Amintor \ I am well : 
 A kind of healthful Joy wanders within me. 
 
 (76) Amin. The World wants Lives to expiate thy Lofs : 
 Come, let me bear thee to fome Place of Help. 
 
 AJp. Amintor.^ thou muft ftay, I muft reft here i 
 My Strength begins to difobey my Will. 
 How doft thou, my beft Soul ? I wou'd fain live 
 Now, if I cou'd : Wou'dft thou have lov'd me then ? 
 
 Amin. Alas! 
 All that I am's not worth a Hair from thee. 
 
 Afp. Give me thy Hand, mine Hands grope up and 
 And cannot find thee j I am wondrous Tick : [down, 
 
 (76) The World luanti Lines to excufe thy Lofs: ] The Scnfe and 
 Veii'e are both fpoil'd ; I hope, I have reftored Both- My Emenda- 
 tion gives this Meaning. All the Li'ves of all the Women in the 
 World cannot to me attone for the Lofs of thine. I guefs, that fome 
 Tranfcriber, or Editor, had firft by meer Accident chang'd Li'ves to 
 Lines ; and the Word, expiate, not making the leaft Senfe with That, 
 occafion'd fome future Editor, without Regard to the Metre, to fub- 
 jlitute excufe inftead of it; which does cirrv fome Shadow of Senfe, 
 
 tho' but an empty ©ne. This is the Emendation and Comment 
 
 of the ingenious Mr. Setvard. Long before I received his 
 
 ThQughti upon this PafTage, I had fubftituted with lefs Variation from 
 ihe Text: 
 
 The World nvants Limits to excufe thy Lofs. 
 i e. Were the World ever fo wide and large, the Lofs of Thee is lb 
 great, that its whole Vafiidity, as Shakeffteare kys, would not be fuf- 
 ficient to excufe, or compenfate for it. I have adopted my Friend's 
 Conjcfture into the Text, becaui'e I would be always willing to fhew a 
 Diffidence of my own poor Efforts. The Readers will have the Bene- 
 It c/f both our Conjectures. 
 ' Have 
 
l*he Maid's Tragedy. Sy 
 
 Have I thy Hand, Amintor? 
 
 Anin. Thou greateft Blefling of the World, thou haft. 
 
 Afp. I do believe thee better than my Senfe. 
 Oh ! I muft go J farewell. [Dies. 
 
 Jmin. She fwoons: Afpatia! help; for Heav'n's Sake, 
 Such as may chain Life ever to this Frame. [Water, 
 
 Afpatia^ fpeak: What, no Help.? yet I fool; 
 I'll chafe her Temples; yet there's nothing ftirs ; 
 Some hidden Pow'r tell her, Amintor calls; 
 And let her anfwcr me : Afpatia, fpeak. 
 I've heard, if there be any Life, but bow 
 The Body thus, and it will fliew it felf. 
 
 Oh, fhe is gone 1 I will not leave her yet. ' 
 
 Since out of Juflice we muft challenge nothing, 
 
 I'll call it Mercy if you'll pity me, 
 
 You heav'nly Powers ! and lend, for fome few Years, 
 
 The blelTed Soul to this fair Seat again. 
 
 No Comfort comes, the Gods deny me too. 
 
 I'll bow the Body once again : Afpatia ! 
 
 The Soul is fled for ever ; and I wrong 
 
 My felf, fo long to lofe her Company. 
 
 Mufl I talk now .? Here's to be with thee. Love. 
 
 [Kills him/elf. 
 Enter Servant. 
 
 Serv. This is a great Grace to my Lord, to have the 
 new King come to him ; I muft tell him, he is entring. 
 O Heav'n ! help, help ! [Seeing the dead Bodies. 
 
 Enter Lyfippus, Melantius, Calianax, Cleon, Diphilus, 
 and Strato. 
 
 Lyf. Whert*s Amintor? 
 
 Stra. O there, tliere. 
 
 Lyf. How ft range is this ! 
 
 Cal. What fhould we do here ? 
 
 Mel. Thefe Deaths are fuch acquainted Things with me. 
 That yet my Heart diflblves not. May I ftand 
 Stiff here for ever ! Eyes, call up your Tears ; 
 This is Amintor: Heart! he was my Friend; 
 Melt, now it flows ; Amintor^ give a Word 
 To call me to thee. 
 
 Anm. Oh! G 4 McL 
 
88 The Maid's Tragedy, 
 
 Mel. Melantius calls his Friend Amintor ; Oh, 
 Thy Arms are kinder to me than thy Tongue ; 
 Speak, Ipeak. 
 
 Amin. What? 
 
 Mel. That little Word was more worth all the Sounds 
 That ever I fhall hear again. Biph. O Brother! 
 Here lies our Sifter flain ; you lofc your Self 
 In Sorrow there. Mel. Why, Diphilus^ it is 
 A thing to laugh at in relpedt of this ; 
 Here was my Sifter, Father, Brother, Son ; 
 All that I had j Ipeak once again -, what Youth 
 Lies flain there by thee ? Amin. *Tis Afpatia. 
 {yy) My Laft is faid j let me give up my Soul 
 Into thy Bofom. [Dies. 
 
 Cal. What's that.? What's that.? Afpatia t 
 
 Mel. I never did repent the Greatnefs of 
 My Heart till now ; it will not burft at need. 
 
 Cal. My Daughter dead here too ! and you have all 
 fine new Tricks to grieve ; but I ne'er knew any but dired 
 Crying. 
 
 MeU I am a Pratler, but no more. 
 
 [ Offers to kill himfelf, 
 
 Viph. Hold, Brother. 
 
 Lyf. Stop him. 
 
 Diph. Fie ; how unmanly was this Offer in you ! 
 Does this become our Strain ? 
 
 Cal. I know not what the Matter is, but I am grown 
 very kind, and am Friends with you ; you have given me 
 that among you will kill me cjuickly ; but I'll go home, 
 and live as long as I can. 
 
 (77) My Senfesfade,'] This I take to be a Sophiftication of the 
 Players, who are fond of throwing in their Poetical Flowers where 
 there is no Occafion for them. Jlmlntor\ Strength was certainly fa- 
 ding ; but he dies in found Mind and Memory : He does not appear 
 to have any Wildnefs, or Delirium, upon him. I have retriev'd the 
 Reading of the two eldeft Sluarto^s ; and it feems to me, in Amintor % 
 Peath, that our Poets had a Defirc of imitating that of Hamlet in 
 Smakespeare. 
 
 •- - -— He has mv dying Voice, 
 So I ell htm, nvith tF Occur rents more and lefs 
 Which have follicited. The reft is Silence, 
 
 MeL 
 
Hoe Maid's Tragedy, 89 
 
 Mel, His Spirit is but poor, that can be kept 
 
 From Death for want of Weapons. 
 
 Is not my Hand a Weapon good enough 
 
 To Hop my Breath ? or, if you tie down thofe, 
 
 I vow, Amintor,, I will never eat. 
 
 Or drink, or fleep, or have to do with that 
 
 That may preferve Life •, this 1 fwear to keep. 
 
 Lyf. Look to him tho', and bear thofe Bodies in. 
 May this a fair Example be to me, 
 (78) To rule with Temper: For on luftful Kings 
 Unlook'd-for, fudden. Deaths from Heav'n are fent ; 
 But curft is He, that is their Inflrument. \Exeunt Omnes, 
 
 (78) — — For on lujifull Kings,"] Mr. Rhymer has very juftly re- 
 inark'd in his Criticifms on Tragedy, that as the Moral is a Leflbn on 
 the Dangers attending Incontinence, the Play ought to take its Name 
 from the King: Whereas the whole Dirtreis of the Story lying on 
 Affatia being abandon'd, and the grofs Injury done to Amintor, the 
 Moral, that we have, is in no kind to the Purpofe. Amintor is every 
 where, indeed, condemning himfelf" for his Perfidy to his betroth'J 
 Millrcfs; and inculcating, that the Heavens arc ftrift in punifhmg 
 him for that Crime,- and fo we have another Moral in the Body ot 
 the Fable, 
 

 PHILASTER: 
 
 O R, 
 
 Love lies a Bleeding. 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 MEN. 
 
 King of Sicily and Calabria, an Ufurper. 
 Philafter, rightfuU Heir to the Crown. 
 Pharamond, Prince of Spain. 
 Dion, a Lord. 
 
 ^rem , / -^^j^i^ Gentlemen, his AJociates. 
 Thrafiline, 3 
 jin old Captain, 
 Five Citizens. 
 A Country Fello'W. 
 ^wo Woodmen. 
 The King's Guard and Train. 
 
 WOMEN. 
 
 Arethufa, the King's Daughter. 
 Galatea, a wife modejl Lady attending the Princefs. 
 Me^ra, a lafciz'ious Lady. 
 Another Lady attending the Princefs. 
 Eufrafia, Daughter of Dion, but difguifed like a Page^ 
 and calPd Bellario, 
 
 SCENE, S I C I L r. 
 
P H I L A S r E R: 
 
 O R, 
 
 Love lies a Bleeding. 
 
 ACTL SCENE I. 
 
 SCENE, an Antechamber in the Palace, 
 
 Enter Dion, Cleremont, and Thrafiline. 
 
 Cleremont. 
 
 E R E 's nor Lords, nor Ladies. 
 Dion. Credit me, Gentlemen, I wonder at it. 
 }^ They receiv'd llridi Charge from the King 
 '^S to attend here: (i) Befides, it was loudly 
 publifh'd, that no Officer fhould forbid any 
 Gentlemen that defired to attend and hear. 
 Cle. Can you guefs the Caufe ? 
 
 Dion. Sir, it is plain, about the .S/>^7^/7i?? Prince ; that's 
 come to marry our Kingdom's Heir, and be our Sovereign. 
 Thra. Many, that will fecm to know much, fay, fhe 
 looks not on him like a Maid in Love. 
 
 (i) It nvas boldly publij'h'J,'} This Adverb can have no fort of 
 Propriety here. What Boldvejs is there in publifhing an Order from 
 the King, that no Gentleman or Lady fhould be refufed Admittance ? 
 I make no Doubt but it is an Error of the Prefs, and that the origi- 
 nal Word was what I have fubllituted for it. Mr. Seivard. 
 
 Dion, 
 
94 PHILASTER. 
 
 t)ion. O Sir, the Multitude (that feldom know any 
 thing but their own Opinions) fpeak That they would 
 have -, but the Prince, before his own Approach, receiv'd 
 fo many confident Meflages from the State, that, 1 think, 
 Ihe's relblv'd to be rul'd. 
 
 Cle. Sir, is it thought, with her he fhall enjoy both thefe 
 Kingdoms of Sicily and Calabria ? 
 
 Dion. Sir, it is, without Controverfy, fo meant. But 
 'twill be a troublefome Labour for him to enjoy both thefe 
 Kingdoms, with Safety, the right Heir to one of them 
 living, and living fo virtuoufly ; elpccially, the People ad- 
 miring the Bravery of his Mind, and lamenting his Injuries. 
 
 Cle. Who, Philafter? 
 
 Dion. Yes, whole Father, we all know, was by our late 
 King of Calabria unrighteoufly depos'd from his fruitful 
 Sicily. My felf drew Ibme Blood in thofe Wars, which 
 I would give my Hand to be wafh'd from. 
 
 Cle. Sir, my Ignorance in State-Policy will not let me 
 know, why, Pbilajler being Heir to one of thefe King- 
 doms, the King Ihould futfer him to walk abroad with 
 fuch free Liberty. 
 
 Dion. Sir, it feems, your Nature is more conftant than 
 to enquire after State-news. But the King, of late, made a 
 Hazard of both the Kingdoms, oi Sicily and his own, with 
 offering but to imprifon Philajier. At which the City was in 
 Arms, not to be charm*d down by any State-Order or Pro- 
 clamation ; *till they faw Philajier ride through the Streets 
 pleas'd, and without a Guard ; at which they threw their 
 Hats, and their Arms from them -, fome to make Bonfires, 
 fome to drink, all for his Deliverance : Which, wife Men 
 fay, is the Caufe the King labours to bring in the Power 
 of a Foreign Nation to awe his own with. 
 
 Enter Galatea, a Lady, and Megra. 
 
 ^hra. See, the Ladies; what's the firft? [Princefs. 
 
 Dion. A wife and modeft Gentlewoman that attends the 
 
 Cle. The Second ? 
 
 Dion. She is one that may ftand flill difcreetly enough, 
 and ill-favour*dly dance her Meafure ; fimper when fhe is 
 courted by her Friend, and flight her Husband. 
 
 Cle. 
 
PHILASTER. 95 
 
 Ck. Thelaft? 
 
 Dion. Marry, I think, fhe is one whom the State keeps 
 for the Agents of our Confederate Princes ; flie'll cog 
 and lye with a whole Army before the League fhall 
 break : Pier Name is common through the Kingdom, and 
 the Trophies of her Dirtionour advanc'd beyond Hercules- 
 Pillars. She loves to try the fcveral Conftitutions of 
 Men's Bodies ; and, indeed, has deftroyed the Worth of 
 her own Body, by making Experiment upon it, for the 
 Good of the Common- wealth, 
 
 Ck. She's a profitable Member. 
 
 (2) Meg. Peace, if you love me: You (hall fee thele 
 Gentlemen (land their Ground, and not court us. 
 
 Gal. What if they fhould ? Lady. What if they fliould ? 
 
 Meg. Nay, let her alone j what if they fhould ? why, 
 if they fhould, I fay, they were never abroad; what 
 Foreigner wou'd do fo.? it writes them direflly untra- 
 velPd. 
 
 Gal. Why, what if they be ? Lady. What if they be ? 
 
 Meg. Good Madam, let her go on ; what if they be ? 
 Why, if they be, I will juftify, they cannot maintain Dif- 
 courfe with a judicious Lady, nor make a Leg, nor lay, 
 Excufe me. 
 
 Gal. Ha, ha, ha. Meg. Do you laugh, Madam? 
 
 Dio7j. Your Defires upon you, Ladies ! 
 
 (2) Peace, if you loi-e mei] I have made a Tranfpofition in the 
 Speakers, here, from the following accurate Criticifm of Mr. Senuard. 
 
 " The Charadler given of the lafl of thefe three Ladies fo exaftly 
 *• fuits Megra, and all the Speeches which the anonymous Lady {peaks, 
 ** her cxccflive Fondnefs for the Courtfhip of Men, and of Foreign- 
 " crs in particular, are fo entirely in her Strain ; that I am per- 
 •• fuaded, (he has been unjuftly deprived of them. It is not the 
 *' Cullom of any good Writer to give a long and diftinguilhing 
 " Character of, and to make a Perfon the chief Speaker in any Scene, 
 *' who is a meer Cypher in the whole Play befides ; Particularly, 
 " when there is another in the fame Scene, to whom both the Cha- 
 " rafter and the Speeches exadlly coriefpond. I fhould guefs it to 
 " have been fome Jumble of the Players ; She, who afted Megra, 
 *• having given up fo much of her Part to initiate fome younger 
 •' Aftrels. The Entrance fhould have been thus regulated : 
 
 Enter Galatea, a Lady, and Megra. 
 
 ' And all the Speechci of the two latter tranfpofed. Mr. Srward. 
 
 Meg, 
 
95 PHILASTER. 
 
 Meg. Then you muft fit bcfide us. 
 
 Dion. I fhall fit near you then, Lady. 
 
 Meg. Near me, perhaps : But there's a Lady indures 
 no Stranger ; and to me you appear a very llrange 
 Fellow. 
 
 . Lady. Methinks, he's not fo flrange, he would quickly 
 be acquainted. T'hra. Peace, the King. 
 
 Enter King, Pharamond, Arethufa, and Train. 
 
 King. To give a ftronger Teflimony of Love 
 Than fickly Promifes (which commonly 
 In Princes find both Birth and Burial 
 In one Breath) we have drawn you, worthy Sif, 
 To make your fair Indearments to our Daughter, 
 And worthy Services known to our Subjeds, 
 Now lov'd and wonder'd at : Next, our Intent 
 To plant you deeply, our immediate Heir, 
 Both to our Blood and Kingdoms. For this Lady, 
 (The bell part of your Life, as you confirm me. 
 And I believe) though her few Years and Sex 
 Yet teach her nothing but her Fears and Bluflies ; 
 Defires without Defire, Difcourfe and Knowledge 
 Only of what herfelf is to herfelf. 
 Make her feel moderate Health ; and, when fhe fleeps. 
 In making no ill Day, know no ill Dreams. 
 Think not, dear Sir, thefe undivided Parts, 
 That muft mould up a Virgin, are put on 
 To fhew her fo, as borrow'd Ornaments ; 
 To fpeak her perfefl Love to you, or add 
 An artificial Shadow to her Nature : 
 No, Sir ; I boldly dare proclaim her yet no Woman. 
 But woo her ftill, and think her Modefty 
 A fweeter Miftrefs than the ofi^er'd Language 
 Of any Dame, were fhe a Queen, whofe Eye 
 Speaks common Loves and Comforts to her Servants. 
 Laft, noble Son, (for fo I now muft call you) 
 What I have done thus publick, is not only 
 To add a Comfort in particular i 
 
 To you or me, but all ; and to confirm 1 
 
 The Nobles, and the Gentry of thefe Kingdoms, 
 
 By 
 
PHILASTER. 97 
 
 By Oath to your Succeflion, which fhall be 
 Within this Month at mofl. 
 
 ^hra. This will be hardly done. 
 
 Ck. It muft be ill done, if it be done. 
 
 Dion. When 'tis at belt, 'twill be but half done, whilft 
 So brave a Gentleman's wrong'd and flung off. 
 
 Ihra. I fear. Ck. Who docs not ? 
 
 T>ion. I fear not for myfelf, and yet I fear too : 
 Well, we fliall fee, we fliall fee : No more. 
 
 Fka. KifUng your white Hand, Miftrefs, I take Leave, 
 To thank your Royal Father ; and thus far, 
 To be my own free Trumpet. Undcrftand, 
 Great King, and thefe your Subjects, mine that muft be, 
 (For fo dcferving you have fpoke me, Sir, 
 And fo dcferving I dare fpeak myfelf) 
 To what a Pcrfon, of what Eminence, 
 Ripe Expe6tation of what Faculties, 
 Manners and Virtues you would wed your Kingdoms : 
 You in me have your Wiflies. (3) Oh, this Country! 
 By more than all my Hopes, I hold it happy ; 
 
 {3} Oh this Court' r^^ 
 
 Bv more than all my Hopes I hold it 
 Happy, in their dear Memories that have been 
 Kings great and good, happy in yours, that iSy 
 ^ndfrom you fas a Chronicle to keep 
 Your noble Name from eating ^ge) do I 
 Opine myfelf 7noJl happy ^ It is very plain, that this is defign'd 
 as a fet, formal, and piecompofed Speech, much fuperior in Lan- 
 guage to any thing that is afterwards put into theAIouth of Phara- 
 mond; and agreeing with the reft of his Charafter in Nothing but 
 its Oilentation and Vain-glory. In fuch a Speech it is not probable 
 that the Authors left the firlt Verfe above fo lame; efpecially, as the 
 "Word, which naturally fupplics it, renders the formal Flow of the 
 Period as well as the Metre more beautifull. The laft Line feem$ to 
 have loft its Beauty, by a more material Omilion, which totally 
 alters the Senfe. It is really no unhandfome Complement to the 
 King, to tell him that he thinks himfelf happy in fucceeding him ; 
 whom he (hall fo imitate in his Government, as to make himfelf a 
 Chronicle to preferve his Memory. This by no means agrees with 
 all the reft of his Speech, which is ftuft''d with the vainclt Self Ap- 
 plaufe. He certainly therefore in the Original wound up the Period 
 with the fame Arrogance; which the flight Addition, that I have 
 given, will make him do. Mr. Seivard. 
 
 Vol. I. H Happy, 
 
98 PHILASTER. 
 
 Happy, in their dear Memories that have been 
 
 Kings great and good ; happy in yours, that is ; 
 
 And liom you (as a Chronicle to keep 
 
 Your noble Name from eating Age) do I 
 
 Opine it in myfelf moft happy. Gentlemen, 
 
 Believe me in a Word, a Prince's Word, 
 
 There lliall be nothing to make up a Kingdom 
 
 Mighty, and f.ourifhing, defenccd, fear'd. 
 
 Equal to be commanded and obey'd, 
 
 But through the Travels of my Life I'll find it. 
 
 And tie it to tliis Country. And I vow. 
 
 My Reign fiiall be fo eaiy to the Subject, 
 
 That ev'r)' Man Hiall be his Prince himfelf. 
 
 And his own Law: (yet I his Prince, and Law.) 
 
 And deareft Lady, to your deareft felf 
 
 (Dear, in the Choice of him, whofe Name and Luftre 
 
 Muff make you more and mightier) let me fay. 
 
 You are the blefied'ft living •, for, fweet Princefs, 
 
 You fhall enjoy a Man of Men to be 
 
 Your Servant -, you fhall make him yours, for whom 
 
 Great Queens muft die. 1'hra. Miraculous! 
 
 Cle. This Speech calls him Spaniard, being nothing but 
 A large Inventory of his own Commendations. 
 
 Enter Philafter. 
 
 (4) Blon. I wonder what's his Price ? For, certainly. 
 He'll fell himfelf, he has fo prais'd his Shape : 
 But here comes one more worthy thofe large Speeches, 
 Than the large Speaker of them. 
 Let me be fw allow' d quick, if I can find. 
 In all th' Anatomy of yon Man's Virtues, 
 One Sinew found enough to promife for him, 
 He lli?Jl be Conftable. 
 By this Sun, he'll ne'er make King 
 Unlefs it be of Trifles, in my poor Judgment. 
 
 (4) I tjoovder, ^haCshis Frize? Tor certninly 
 
 He'll tell hinijdf, he has fo prais'ii his 'Shape ;] Four of the 
 old <^uarto% have it rightly, fell himfelf; as 1 have reform'd the 
 Text^ I ought in juftice to acknowledge, that both Mr. Se^.vard and 
 Mr Smpfon concurred in llarting this Emendation. 
 
 Phi. 
 
PHILASTER. 99 
 
 Vhi. Right noble Sir, as low as my Obedience, 
 And with a Heart as loyal as my Knee, 
 I beg your Favour. 
 
 King. Riil% you have ii, Sir. 
 
 'Dion. Mark but the King, how pale he looks ! He fears. 
 (5) Oh ! this lame whorfon Confcience, how it jades us ! 
 King. Speak your Intents, Sir. 
 
 Fhi. Shall I fpcak 'em freely .''• • 
 
 Be (till my Royal Sovereign. Ki7ig, As a Subje<5l, 
 We give you Freedom. Dion, Now it heats. 
 
 Phi. Then thus I turn 
 My Language to you, Prince ; you. Foreign Man. 
 Ne'er Itare, nor put on Wonder, for you muft 
 Indure me, and you Ihall. (6) This Earth you tread oa 
 (A Dowry, as you hope, with this fair Princefs,) 
 By my dead Father (Oh ! I had a Father, 
 Whole Memory I bow to) was not left 
 To your Inl:icTitance, and I up and living ; 
 Having myfelf about me and my Sword, 
 The vSouIs of all my Name, and Memories, 
 Thefe Arms and fome few Friends, befides the GodSj 
 To part fo calmly with it, and fit llill, 
 
 (O Ohl this fame <vohorfon Confcience , hoiv it jades a//] This 
 Sentiment Shakefpeare has nnely, and as concifely. exprcfs'd in hii 
 Hamlet. 
 
 ^Tis Confcience, that makes Conuards nf us all. 
 
 (6) ■ This Earth you tread on 
 
 {A Doi.vr\\ as you hope, iviih this fair Princefs, 
 
 Whofe Memory I boiu to\ nvas not left 
 
 By my dead Father {Oh, I had a Tather) 
 
 To your Inheritance, &c.] To bow to the Memory of a Per* 
 fon prefent, is certainly not Senie I at firft altcr'd it. ivhofe Merits 
 / do botv to ; but obferving; afterwards, that a Tranfpofition of two 
 Lines, a Millake very common to Printers, was tiie molt prob-ible 
 Corruption, I have repbred them in their natural Order. In Con- 
 firmation of this T ranfpofition, it will be very necelfary to oblcrve 
 that our Authors have ufed the very fame Exprefhon at the beginning 
 of their Tragedy callM, The Falfe One. 
 
 She being by her Fiithers Tefament, 
 
 Whofe Memory 1 bov lo, i^c. Mr. Seiuard. 
 
 I muft do Juftice to the Sagacity of my ingenious Friend Mr. Sympiuny 
 in acknowledging that he didtated the very fame Tranfpofition : Aud, 
 indeed, 1 had fome Years ago made the JDifcovery. 
 
 H 2 And 
 
loo PHI LESTER. 
 
 And fay, I might have been. I tell thee, Pharamomly 
 When thou art King, look, I be dead and rotten. 
 And my Name Afhes •, For Iicar me, Pharamondy 
 This very Ground thou goeft on, this fat Earth, 
 My Father's Friends made fertile with their Faiths, 
 Before that Day of Shame, fhall gape and fwallow 
 Thee and thy Nation, like a hungry Grave, 
 Into her hidden Bowels : Prince, it fhall •, 
 By Nemefis^ it fhall. Pha. He's mad beyond Cure, mad. 
 
 Dion. Here is a Fellow has fome Fire in's Veins : 
 Th' Outlandifh Prince looks like a Tooth-Drawer. 
 
 Phi. Sir, Prince of Poppingjayes, Fll make it well appear 
 To you, I am not mad. King. You do difpleafe us : 
 You are too bold. Phi. No, Sir, I am too tame. 
 Too much a Turtle, a Thing born without Paffion, 
 A faint Shadow, that every drunken Cloud fails over. 
 And maketh nothing. King. I do not fancy this^j 
 Call our Phyficians ; fure, he is fomewhat tainted. 
 Thra. 1 do not think, 'twill prove fo. 
 Dion. H'as giv'n him a general Purge already, for all 
 the Right he has ; and now he means to let him Blood : 
 Be conftant. Gentlemen; by thefe hilts, Fll run his Hazard, 
 although I run my Name out of the Kingdom. 
 Cle. Peace, we are one Soul. 
 Pha. What you have feen in me, to flir Offence, 
 I cannot find ; unlefs it be this Lady 
 Offer'd into mine Arms, with the SuccefTion, 
 Which I mufl keep, though it hath pleas'd your Fury 
 To mutiny within you-, without diiputing 
 Your Genealogies, or taking Knowledge 
 Whofe Branch you are. The King will leave it me -, 
 And I dare make it mine. You have your Anfwer. 
 (7) Phi. If thou wert fole Inheritor to him 
 
 (7) If thou nuert fole Inheritor to him 
 
 Who made the World his^ i. e. Alexander the Great. So 
 Mr. Lee in his Tragedy of The Rival ^eens. 
 
 But fee, the IVIafter of the World approaches. 
 This is as fine an Introdudtion, as poffibly can be, to the firft Entrance 
 of that Gieat Conquerour; and raifes the Expeftation of the Audience 
 to give a due Attention to every Line he fpeaks. 
 
 That 
 
PHILASTER. loi 
 
 That made the World his, and cou'dft fee no Sun 
 Shine upon any Thing but thine; were Pbaramond 
 As truly valiant, as I feel him cold. 
 And ring'd among the choiceft of his Friends, 
 (Such as would blufh to talk fuch ferious Follies, 
 Or back fuch bellied Commendations,) 
 
 (8) And from this Prefence, fpite of all thefe Bugs, 
 You fliould hear further from me. 
 
 Kifig. Sir, you wrong the Prince : 
 I gave you not this Freedom to brave our beft Friends, 
 You do deferve our Frown : Go to, be better temper'd. 
 
 Fbi. It mull be. Sir, when I am nobler us'd. 
 
 Gal. Ladies, 
 
 (9) This would have been a Pattern of SucceJTion, 
 Had he ne'er met this Mifchief By my Life, 
 He is the worthieft the true Name of Man 
 
 This Day within my Knowledge. Meg. I cannot tell 
 What you may call your Knowledge, but th' other is 
 The Man fct in mine Eye ; Oh ! 'Tis a Prince 
 Of Wax. Gal. A Dog it is. King. Philajlery tell mc 
 The Injuries you aim at, in your Riddles. 
 
 Phi. If you had my Eyes, Sir, and Sufferance, 
 My Griefs upon you, and my broken Fortunes, 
 My Wants great, and now nought but Hopes and Fears, 
 My Wrongs would make ill Riddles to be laugh'd at. 
 Dare you be ftill my King, and right me not ? 
 
 King. Give me your Wrongs in private. [T'hey whifper. 
 
 Phi. Take them then, 
 t\vA eafe me of a Load would bow ftrong Atlas. 
 
 Cle. He dares not ftand the Shock. 
 
 Dion. I cannot blame him, there's Danger in't. Every 
 
 (S) An^, frnjti this prefent,] The old ^iarto\ didate, Prefence, as 
 I bavff reform'd the Text. The ingenious Mr. Se-ijcard likewife pre- 
 Itrib'd this Alteration. 
 
 (5) This ivould ha-ve been a Pattern of SuccelTion, 
 
 Had he ne^er met this Mifchief. "l My Friend Mr. Sympfon 
 clufes to fubftitute 5w^;w/^o« for SucceJJion. 1 fubmit his Conjedlurc 
 to the Readers, tho' I have not ventured to difturb the Text ; becaufe 
 t>e Poets, perhaps, might mean, that Philaficr might have been a 
 ] attern to furceeding Kings, had not he fall'n under the Misfortune of 
 ] aving his Right 10 the Kingdom ufurpM upon. 
 
 H 3 Man 
 
102 PHILASrER. 
 
 Man in this Age has not a Soul of Cryftal for all Men 
 to read their Afbions through : Mens Hearts and Faces 
 are fo far afunder, that they hold no Intelligence. Do but 
 view yon Stranger well, and you fhall fee a Fever through 
 all his Bravery, (lo) and feel him fliake like a true Re- 
 creant; if he give not back his Crown again, upon 
 tht Report of an Elder Gun, I have no Augury. 
 
 King. Go to : 
 Be more your Self, as you refpe6b our Favour ; 
 You'll ftir us elfe : Sir, I mufl have you know. 
 That you're, and fhall be, at ourPleafure, what Fafhionwe 
 "Will put upon you : Smooth your Brow, or by the Gods — • 
 
 Phi. I am dead. Sir, you're my Fate : It was not I 
 (i i) Said, I was wrong'd: I carry all about me 
 My weak Stars led me to, all my weak Fortunes. 
 Who dares in all this Prefence fpeak (that is 
 But Man of Flefh and may be mortal) tell me, 
 I do not mofl intirely love this Prince, 
 And honour his full Virtues ! King. Sure, he's pofieft. 
 
 Phi. Yes, with my Father's Spirit : It's here, O King ! 
 A dangerous Spirit ; now he tells me. King, 
 I was a King's Heir, bids me be a King ; 
 And whifpers to me, thefe be all my Subjects. 
 *Tis flrangc, he will not let me fleep, but dives 
 Into my Fancy, and there gives me Shapes 
 That kneel, and do me Service, cry me King : 
 But I'll fupprefs him, he's a fa6lious Spirit, 
 And v/ill undo me : Noble Sir, your Hand ; 
 I am your Servant. 
 
 (lo) and feel him Jhake like a true Tenant j] This is as errant 
 Ncnfenfe, as ever the Prefs was guilty of. Mr. 5fif«r</ conjectures 
 truant', \. e. like a Boy who has play'd Truant, and is afraid of the 
 Rod. The Word, which I have fubllituted, and which does not de- 
 part far from the Traces of the 1'ext, fecms authorixd by a fimilar 
 PafTage of our Authors, in their Women fleas' d. 
 » ■ Here Iftvear to ye. 
 
 By the unvalued Love I bear this Beauty, 
 (And kijs the Book too) never to be recreant, l^c. 
 (l l) ■ // ivas not J 
 
 Said I nvas not vurong'd :'] The ^arto in 1628 jiiflly throws 
 out this Nf oative ; both the Reafcning and the Mecre prove it to be a 
 Co:ruption of the Tex(. 
 
 KiJtg. 
 
PHILASTER. 103 
 
 Kin^. Away, I do not like this : 
 I'll make you tamer, or I'll difpoirefs you 
 Both of your Life and Spirit : For this time 
 1 pardon your wild Speech, without fo much 
 As your Imprifonment. [Z-^.v. King, Pha. and Are. 
 
 Dion. I thank you. Sir, you dare not for the People. 
 
 Gal. Ladies, what think you now of this brave Fellow ? 
 
 Meg. A pretty talking Fellow, hot at Hand ; but eye 
 yon Stranger, is not he a line compleat Gentleman ? O 
 thefe Strangers, I do aiTed them ftrangely : They do the 
 rareft- home things, and pleafe the fulleft ! As I live, I 
 could love all the Nation over and over for his fake. 
 
 Gal. Gods comfort your poor Head-piece, Lady : *Tis 
 a wealv one, and had need of a Night-cap. 
 
 Dicn. See, how his Fancy laboujfs ; has he not 
 Spoke hom^e, and bravely .f^ Whiat a dangerous Train 
 Did he give fire to! How he fliook the King, 
 Made his Soul melt within him, and his Blood 
 Run into Whey! It flood upon his Brow, 
 Like a cold Winter Dew. Phi. Gentlemen, 
 You have no Suit to me .'* (12)! am no Minion : 
 You fland, mjcthinks, like Men that would be Courtiers, 
 If you could well be flatter' d at a Price, 
 Not to undo your Children : You're all honefl : 
 Go get you home again, and make your Country 
 A virtuous Court ; to which your Great ones may. 
 In dicir difeafcd Age, retire, and live reclufe. 
 
 Cle. How do you, worthy Sir? Phi. Well, very well; 
 And fo well, that if the King pleafe, I find, . 
 I may live many Years. Dion. The King mufl pleafe, 
 Whilft we know what you are, and who you are, 
 Your Wrongs and Injuries : Shrink not, worthy Sir, 
 But add your Father to you: (13) In whofe Name, 
 
 We'U 
 
 (12) . I am no Minion :"] i. e. No Favourite of In- 
 fluence enough to carry any Suits at Court. The Word is frequently 
 ufed by Shakefpearc. 
 
 (l 3) — In ivhofe Name 
 
 We'll tjjaken all the Gods, and conjure up 
 
 The Rods of Vengeance, the ahufed People ;] This puts me in 
 Mind of a Pail'age in Ilefiod, in his ^r oyA 1^ W^'i^i v. 260. 
 
 H 4 'n^f 
 
104 PHILASTER. 
 
 We'll waken all the Gods, and conjure up 
 
 The Rods of Vengeance, the abufed People ; 
 
 Who, like to raging Torrents, fhall fwell high, 
 
 And fo begirt the Dens of thcfe Male-Dragons, 
 
 That, through the flrongeft Safety, they fhall beg 
 
 For Mercy at your Sword's Point. Phi. (14) Friends, 
 
 no more ; 
 Our Ears may be corrupted : *Tis an Age 
 [We dare not truft our Wills to : Do you love me ? 
 
 Thra. Do we love Heav'n and Honour ? 
 
 Phi. My Lord Dicn^ 
 You had a virtuous Gentlewoman call'd you Father ; 
 Is Ihe yet alive ? Dion. Moft honour'd Sir, flie is : 
 And for the Penance but of an idle Dream, 
 Has undertook a tedious Pilgrimage. 
 
 Enter a Lady. 
 
 Phi, Is it to me, or any of thefe Gentlemen you come ? 
 Lady. To you, brave Lord \ the Princefs would intreat 
 ^Your prefent Company. 
 
 Phi. The Princefs fend for me ! You are miftaken. 
 
 Lady. If you be call'd Phi I after, 'tis to you. 
 
 (15) Phi. Kifs her fair Hand, and fay, I will attend her. 
 
 JDion. Do you know what you do ? 
 
 Phi. Yes, go to fee a Woman. 
 
 5?p arrorKTVi 
 
 An//©- £tT£f,=S-rtAjtf< ^A(ri\ico\>' 
 This has been generally underftood, as If the People fhould fuffer for 
 the Faults of their Prince; and Horace is quoted in Support of this 
 Opinion. 
 
 ^icquid dclirant Reges, pledluntur Achi'vi. 
 But would it not be better to undevftand it in Fletcher''% Words, for 
 the People to be rais'd up to punifli the Crimes and Mildemeanours of 
 the Prince ? Mr. Sympfon, 
 
 (14) Friends, no more'. 
 
 Our Years may he corrupted: ] This is certainly a typographi- 
 cal Corruption. The Qjinrio's in 1628, and 1634, have it rightly. 
 Ears; and fo, Mr. Seward faw, the Text ought to be reftored. 
 
 (15) Ki/s her Hand, and fay, I ivill attend her."] The halting 
 Metre of this Verfe plainly fhews an Omiffion of a Monofyllable at 
 Prefs. I have reftored the Epithet from the ^arto in 1628: and 
 Mr. Senvard direfted the Infertion of the Word, fair, to fupport the 
 Verfification. 
 
 Cle. 
 
PHILASTER. 105 
 
 Cle. But do you weigh the Danger you are in ? 
 
 Phi. Danger in a fweet Face ? 
 By Jupiter, 1 muft not tear a Woman. 
 
 Thra. But are you fure, it was the Princefs fent ? 
 It may be fome foul Train to catch your Life. 
 
 Phi. I do not think it, Gentlemen ; file's noble ; 
 Her Eye may fhoot me dead, or thofe true red 
 And white Friends in her Face may fteal my Soul out : 
 There's all the Danger in't: But be what may, 
 (16) Her fingle Name hath armed me. [^Ex. Phil. 
 
 Dion. Go on : '^ 
 
 And be as truly happy as thou art fearlefs : 
 Come, Gentlemen, let's make our Friends acquainted, 
 Lelt the King prove falfe. [£a\ Gentlemen, 
 
 Enter Arethufa and a Lady. 
 
 Are. Comes he not ? Lady. Madam i* 
 
 Are. Will Philafter come } 
 
 Lady. Dear Madam, you were wont 
 To credit me at firfl. 
 
 Are. But didft thou tell me fo .? 
 I am forgetful, and my Woman's Strength 
 Is fo o'ercharg'd with Danger like to grow 
 About my Marriage, that thefe under Things 
 Dare not abide in fuch a troubled Sea : 
 How look'd he, when he told thee he would come .^ 
 
 Lady. Why, well. Are. And not a little fearfuU ? 
 
 Lady. Fear, Madam.' Sure, he knows not what it is. 
 
 Are. You are all of his Faftion ; the whole Court 
 Is bold in Praife of him \ whilft I 
 May live negle<51:ed, and do noble Things, 
 As Fools in Strife throw Gold into the Sea, 
 Drown'd in the Doing : But, I know, he fears. 
 
 Lady. Fear? Madam, methought, his Looks hid more 
 Of Love than Fear. 
 
 (16) Her fingie Name kath arm'' J me. Dion, go on:'\ The modem 
 Editions, by a miftaken Comma here, have placed to Philafter what 
 is not to be l";:id till he has left the Company. 'Tis Dion who is to 
 fpeak, and makes a Remark on the Prince's Bravery. The ^arto\ 
 in i6z8, 1634, ^'^'^ '^52, all concurr in the true Reading. 
 
 Are, 
 
io6 PHILJSrER. 
 
 Are. Of Love ? To whom ? to you ? 
 Did you deliver thofe plain Words 1 fent 
 Widi fuch a winning Gelliire, and quick, Look, 
 That you have caught him ? 
 
 Lady. Madam, I mean to you. 
 
 Are. Of Love to me? Alas! thy Ignorance 
 Lets thee not fee the Crofles of our Birdis. 
 Nature, that loves not to be queftion'd why 
 She did or this, or that, but has her Ends, 
 And knows flie does well, never gave the World 
 Two things fo oppofite, fo contrary. 
 As He, and I am : If a Bowl of Blood, 
 Drawn from this Arm of mine, would poifon thee, 
 A Draught of his Vy'ould cure thee. Of Love to me ? 
 
 Lady. Madam, I think, I hear him. Are. Bring him in : 
 You Gods, that would not have your Dooms withftood, 
 Whofe holy Wifdoms at this time it is, 
 To make the Paffion of a feeble Maid 
 The Way unto your Juftice, 1 obey. 
 
 Enter Philafter. 
 
 Lady. Here is my Lord Philafter. Are. Oh ! 'ris well : 
 Withdraw yourfelf. Phi. Madam, your MefTenger 
 Made me believe, you wifh'd to fpeak with me. 
 
 Are. *Tis true, Philafter., but the Words are fuch 
 I have to fay, and do fo ill befeem 
 The Mouth of Woman, that I wifh them faid. 
 And yet am loth to fpeak them. Have you known. 
 That I have aught detracted from your Worth ? 
 Have I in Perfon wrong' d you } Or have fet 
 My bafer Inftruments to throw Difgrace 
 Upon your Virtues ^ Phi. Never, Madam, you. 
 
 Are. Why then fliould you, in fuch a publick Place, 
 Injure a Princefs, and a Scandal lay 
 Upon my Fortunes, fam'd to be fo great : 
 Calling a great Part of my D0W17 in Queftion .'' 
 
 Phi. Madam, this Truth, which I fhall fpeak, will be 
 Foolifh : But for your fair and virtuous Self, 
 I could afford myfelf to have no Right 
 To any thing you Wiui'd. Are. Philafter, know, 
 
 I mull 
 
PHILASTER. 107 
 
 I muft enjoy thefe Kingdoms. Phi. Madam, Both ? 
 
 Are. Both, or I die : By Fate, I die, Philafier^ 
 If I not calmly may enjoy them Both. 
 
 Phi. I would do much to fave tliat noble Life : 
 Yet would be loth to have Pofterity 
 Find in our Stories, that Philajler gave 
 His Right unto a Scepter, and a Crown, 
 To fave a Lady's Longing. Are. Nay, then hear: 
 I ir.uil, and v/ill have them, and more. 
 
 Phi. What more ? 
 
 Are. Or lofe that little Life the Gods prcpar'd 
 To trouble this poor Piece of Earth withal. 
 
 Phi. Madam, what more.'' 
 
 Are. Turn then away thy Face. 
 
 Phi. No. Are. Do. 
 
 Phi. I can't endure it : Turn away my Face ? 
 (i 7) I never yet faw Enemy that look'd 
 So dreadfully, but that I thought myfelf 
 As great a Bafilisk as he ; or fpake 
 So horribly, but that I thought my Tongue 
 Bore Thunder undt;rneath, as much as his : 
 Nor Beait that I could turn from : Shall I then 
 Begin to fear fweet Sounds } A Lady's Voice, 
 Whom I do love ? Say, you would have my Life ; 
 Why, I will give it you ; for it is of me 
 A Thing fo loath' d, and unto you that ask 
 Of fo poor Ufe, that I fhall make no Price 
 If you intreat, I will unmov'dly hear. 
 
 Are. Yet for my fake a little bend thy Looks. 
 
 Phi. I do. Are. Then know I muft have them, and thee. 
 
 Phi. And me? 
 
 Are. Thy Love ; without which, all the Land, 
 Difcover'd yet, will ferve me for no Ufe, 
 But to be buried in. Phi. Is't pofTible } 
 
 Are. With it, it were too little to beftow 
 
 (17) 1 never yet fanx) Enemy that looJCd 
 
 So dreadfull, iut that I thought myfelf] The fecond Verfe here 
 is lame, and wants Crutches. The S^iarto'^ in 1628, 1634, and 
 l6!;2, lupport the Metre by turning the Adjedive into an Adverb, as 
 I have retorm'd the Text. 
 
 On 
 
io8 PHILASTER, 
 
 On thee: Now, though thy Breath doth ftrike me dead, 
 (Which, know, it may) I have unript my Bread. 
 
 Phi. Madam, you are too full of noble Thoughts, 
 To lay a Train for this contemned Life, 
 Which you may have for asking : to fulpeft 
 "Were bafe, where I deferve no 111 : Love you ! 
 By all my Hopes, I do, above my Life : 
 But how this Paflion fhould proceed from you 
 So violently, would amaze a Man, 
 That would be jealous. 
 
 Jre. Another Soul, into my Body lliot, 
 Could not have fill'd me with more Strength and Spirit, 
 Than this thy Breath : But Ipend not hally Time, 
 In feeking how I came thus : 'tis the Gods, 
 The Gods, that make me fo ; and, fure, our Love 
 Will be the nobler, and the better bleft, 
 In that the fecret Jullice of the Gods 
 Is mingled with it. Let us leave and kifs; 
 Left fome unwelcome Gueft fliould fall betwixt us, 
 And we fhould part without it. Phi. 'Twill be ill, 
 I Ihould abide here long. Are. *Tis true, and worfe, 
 You fhould com.e often : How fhall we devife 
 To hold Intelligence, (i8) that our true Loves, 
 On any new Occafion may agree. 
 What Path is beft to tread .? Phi. I have a Boy 
 Sent by the Gods, I hope, to this Intent, 
 Not yet feen in the Court. Hunting the Buck, 
 I found him fitting by a Fountain-fide, 
 Of which he borrow'd fome to quench his Thirfl, 
 And paid the Nymph again as much in Tears j 
 A Garland lay by him, made by himfelf, 
 Of many feveral Flowers, bred in the Bay, 
 Stuck in that myftick Order, that the Rarenefs 
 Delighted me : But ever when he turned 
 His tender Eyes upon 'em, he would weep. 
 As if he meant to make 'em grow again. 
 
 (l8) i That our true Lovers 
 
 On any ne-uj Occafion may agree,] Here again the old ^aria's 
 come in to our AlTiltance, and clear us from the Nonfenfe of Lo-vers 
 inflcad of Loves, 
 
 Seeing 
 
PHILASTER. 109 
 
 Seeing fuch pretty helplefs Innocence 
 
 Dwell in his Face, I ask'd him ail his Story -, 
 
 He told me, that his Parents gentle dy'd, 
 
 Leaving him to the Mercy of the Fields, 
 
 Which gave him Roots-, and of the cryftal Springs, 
 
 Which did not Hop their Courfcs ; and the Sun, 
 
 "VSHiich Hill, he thank'd him, yielded him his Light j 
 
 Then took he up his Garland, and did fhew. 
 
 What every Flower, as Country People hold. 
 
 Did fignify -, and how all, ordered thus, 
 
 Kxprelt his Grief; and to my Thoughts did read 
 
 The prettiefh Lecture of his Country Art 
 
 That cou'd be wiih'd : So that, methought, I cou'd 
 
 Have ftudied it. (19) I gladly entertained him. 
 
 Who was as glad to follow •, and have got 
 
 The truftieft, loving'il, and the gcntleit Boy, 
 
 That ever Mafter kept : Him will I fend 
 
 To wait on you, and bear our hidden Love. 
 
 Enter Lady. 
 
 Are, 'Tis well, no more. 
 
 Lady. Madam, the Prince is come to do his Service. 
 
 Are. What will you do, Philajler, with yourfelf .-^ 
 
 Phi. Why, that which all the Gods have appointed out 
 for me. 
 
 Are. Dear, hide thyfelf. Bring in the Prince. 
 
 Phi. Hide me from Pharamond! 
 When Thunder fpeaks, which is the Voice of JovCy 
 Though I do Reverence, yet I hide me not •, 
 And fhall a ftranger Prince have Leave to brag 
 LInto a Foreign Nation, that he made 
 
 (19) I ^ladlv entertain d him. 
 
 Who rxas ^lad to fciloix.';'] Here again the Verfe halts for want 
 of an innocent Monofy liable, which I Jiave reltored, and which 
 Mr. Seward likewife pointed out to nie. So our Authors in their Co- 
 medy, call'd, Tht Women pleased: 
 
 Ij'hallfoon nvaken, and disfoon bt ivith him. 
 I am forty. I have Occahoii fo often to trouble the Readers with thefe 
 Minuti>£ Litterarum : I am very far from pleading any Merit in it; 
 but it is the dull Duty of an Editor to (hew, at leaft, his Induftry in a 
 fitiihful Collation of the old Copies. 
 
 Philajier 
 
no PHILASrER. 
 
 Pbilajier hide himfelf ? 
 
 uire. He cannot know it. 
 
 Phi, Though it fliould flcep for ever to the World, 
 It is a fimple Sin to iiidc myfclf, 
 Which will for ever on my Confcience lie. 
 
 Are. Then, good Philafie)\ give him Scope and Way 
 In what he lays -, for he is apt to fpeak 
 What you are loth to hear: For my fake do. Phi. I will. 
 
 Enter Pharamond. 
 
 Pha. My Princely Miltrcfs, as true Lovers ought, 
 I come to kifs thefe fair Hands ; and to iliew. 
 In outward Ceremonies, the dear Love 
 Writ in m.y Heart. 
 
 Phi. If I fhall have an Anfwer no diredlier, 
 I am gone. Pha. To what would he have an Anfwer .'* 
 
 Are. To his Claim unto the Kingdom. 
 
 Pha. Sirrah, I forbare you before the King. 
 
 Phi. Good Sir, do fo ftill, I would not talk with you. 
 
 Pha. But now the Time is fitter, do but offer 
 To make mention of your Right to any Kingdom, 
 Though it be fcarce habitable, — Phi. Good Sir, let me go. 
 
 Pha. And by my Sword, 
 
 Phi. Peace, Phara7nond; if thou 
 
 Are. Leave us, Philafier. Phi. I have done. 
 
 Pha. You are gone ; by Heav'n, I'll fetch you back. 
 
 Phi. You fhall not need. Pha. What now? 
 
 Phi. Know, Pharamond., 
 I loath to brawl with fuch a Blaft as thou. 
 Who art nought but a valiant Voice : But if 
 Thou fhalt provoke me further, Men fhall fay, 
 *ThGU wert., and not lament it. 
 
 Pha. Do you flight 
 My Greatnefs fo, and in the Chamber of the Princefs! 
 
 Phi. It is a Place, to which, I mufl confefs, 
 I owe a Reverence : But were't the Church, 
 Ay, at the Altar, there's no Place fo fiife. 
 Where thou dar'ft injure me, but I dare kill thee : 
 And for your Greatnefs, know. Sir, I can grafp 
 You, and your Greatnefs thus, thus into nothing : 
 
 Give 
 
PHILAStER. iir 
 
 Give not a Word, not a Word back : Farewel. 
 
 [Exit Philafter. 
 
 ¥ha, 'Tis an odd Fellow; Madam, we mull flop 
 His Mouth with fome Office, when we are married. 
 
 Are. You were beft make him your Controuler. 
 
 Pha. I think, he would difcharge it well. But, Madam, 
 I hope, our Hearts are knit •, and yet fo flow 
 The Ceremonies of State are, that 'twill be long 
 Before our Hands be fo : If then you pleafe. 
 Being agreed in Heart, (20) let us not wait 
 For dreaming Forme, but take a little floln 
 Delights, and fo prevent our Joys to come. 
 
 Are. If you dare fpeak fuch Thoughts, 
 I mud withdraw in Honour. S^Exit Arc. 
 
 Pha. The Conilitution of my Body will never hold out 
 till the Wedding ; I mud feek elfewhere. \Exit. Pha. 
 
 A C T II. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Philafler, and Bellario. 
 
 Phi. AND thou Ihalt find her honourable. Boy. 
 -^^ Full of-Regard unto thy tender Youth, 
 For thine own Modeily ; and for my fake, 
 Apter to give, than thou wilt be to ask. 
 Ay, or deferve. Bel. Sir, you did take me up 
 "When I was nothing •, and only yet am fomething. 
 By being yours -, You trufted me unknown ; 
 And that which you are apt to conftrue now 
 A fimple Innocence in me, perhaps. 
 Might have been Craft ; the Cunning of a Boy 
 Hardened in Lies and Theft ; yet ventur'd You 
 To part my Miferies and me : for which, 
 
 (20) ■ let us not ivait 
 
 For dreaming for me,] Whatever Pharamond might prefume, 
 the Princefs had no fuch Fondncfs as to engage her to dream /or him. 
 But the Corruption is to be laid to the Prefs, and Senfe to be reftorcd 
 to the Authors as their undoubted Right. 
 
 I never 
 
112 PHILASTER. 
 
 I never can expecfb to {avz a Lady, 
 
 That bears more Honour in Jier Breafl than You. 
 
 Phi. But, Boy, it will prefer thee j thou art young. 
 And bear'ft a childifh overflowing Love 
 To them that clap thy Cheeks, and (peak thee fair yet : 
 But when thy Judgment comes to rule thofe Paflions, 
 Thou wilt remember beft thofe careful Friends, 
 That plac'd thee in the noblell way of Life. 
 She is a Princefs I prefer thee to. 
 
 Bel. In that fmall time that I have feen the World, 
 I never knew a Man hafty to part with 
 A Servant he thought trufty ; I remember. 
 My Father would prefer the Boys he kept 
 To greater Men than he ; but did it not. 
 Till they were grown too fawcy for himfelf, 
 
 Fhi. Why, gentle Boy, I find no Fault at all 
 In thy Behaviour. Bel. Sir, if I have made 
 A Fault of Ignorance, inftrud: my Youth ; 
 I fhall be willing, if not apt, to learn ; 
 Age and Experience will adorn my Mind 
 With larger Knowledge : And if I have done 
 A wilful Fault, think me not paft all hope 
 For once. What Mafter holds fo ftrid a Hand 
 Over his Boy, that he will part with him 
 Without one Warning } Let me be correfted. 
 To break my Stubbornnefs, if it be fo, 
 Rather than turn me off, and I fhall mend. 
 
 Phi. Thy Love doth plead fo prettily to flay. 
 That, truft me, 1 could weep to part with thee. 
 Alas ! I do not turn thee off; thou know'fl. 
 It is my Bufinefs that doth call thee hence ; 
 And, when thou art with her, thou dwell 'ft with me : 
 Think fo, and 'tis fo ; and when time is full, 
 That thou haft well difcharg'd this heavy Truft, 
 Laid on fo weak a one, I will again 
 With Joy receive thee ; as I live, I will. 
 Nay, weep not, gentle Boy ; *tis more than time 
 Thou didft attend the Princefs. Bd. I am gone ; 
 But fince I am to part with you, my Lord, 
 And none knows whether 1 (hall live to do 
 
 More 
 
PHILASTER. 113 
 
 More Service for you ; take this little Prayer. 
 Heav*n blels your Loves, your Fights, all your Defignsi 
 May fick Men, if they have your Wilh, be well ; 
 And Heav'n hate thofe you curfe, though I be one ! 
 
 {Exit, 
 Phi. The Love of Boys unto their Lords is ftrange, 
 I have read Wonders of it ; yet this Boy 
 For my fake (if a Man may judge by Looks, 
 And Speech) would out-do Stoiy. I may fee 
 A Day to pay him for his Loyalty. {Exit Phi. 
 
 Euter Pharamond. 
 
 Pha. Why fhould thefe Ladies fbay fo long ? They muft 
 come this way •, I know, the Queen employs 'em not ; 
 for the reverend Mother fent me Word, they would all 
 be for the Garden. If they fhould all prove honeft now, 
 I were in a fair Taking -, I was never fo long without 
 Sport in my Life, and, in my CcJfifcience, 'tis not my 
 Fault : Oh, for our Country Ladies ! Here's one boulted, 
 I'll hound at her. 
 
 Enter Galatea. 
 
 Gal. Your Grace ! Pha. Shall I not be a Trouble ? 
 
 Gal. Not to me, Sir. 
 
 Pha. Nay, nay, you are too quick ; by this fweet 
 Hand,' 
 
 Gal. You'll be forfworn. Sir, 'tis but an old Glove. 
 If you will talk at diftance, I am for you ; 
 But, good Prince, be not bawdy, nor do not brag j 
 Thefe two I bar ; 
 
 And then, I think, I fhall have Senfe enough 
 To anfwer all the weighty Apothegmes 
 (21) Your Royal Blood Ihall manage. 
 
 Pha. Dear Lady, can you love ? 
 
 Gal. Dear, Prince, how dear! I ne*er cofl: you a 
 Coach yet, nor put you to the dear Repentance of a Ban- 
 
 (21) Your "Royal Blood Jhall mnnage] This Word is ufed as the 
 Freruh do their mefnager ; and the Italians, maneggiare. So we 
 likewife have adopted it, and lay, manage (or, handle) aDifputeor 
 Argument. 
 
 Vol. I. . I queti 
 
114 PHILASTER. 
 
 quet ; here's no Scarlet, Sir, to blufh the Sin out it was 
 given for : This Wire mine own Hair covers ; and this 
 Face has been fo far from being dear to any ; that it ne'er 
 cofl Penny painting : And for the reft of my poor Ward- 
 robe, fuch as you fee, it leaves no Hand behind it, to 
 make the jealous Mercer's Wife curfe our good Doings. 
 
 Pha. You miftake me. Lady. 
 
 Gal. Lord, I do fo •, 'would, you or I could help it! 
 
 Tha. Do Ladies of this Country ufe to give 
 No more Refpcct to Men of my full Being? 
 
 Gal. Full iSeing! I underftand you not, unlefs your 
 Grace means growing to Fatnefs -, and tiien your only 
 Remedy (upon my Knowledge, Prince) is in a Morning 
 a Cup of neat White-wine brew'd with Cardials \ then 
 faft till Supper, about eight you may eat i ufe Exercife, 
 and keep a Sparrow-hawk, (22) you can fhoot in a Tiller ; 
 but, of all, your Grace muft fly Phlebotomy., frefh Pork, 
 Conger, and clarified Whey : They are all Dullers of the 
 vital Spirits. 
 
 Pha. Lady, you talk of nothing all this while. 
 
 Gal. 'Tis very true. Sir, I talk of you. 
 
 Pha. This is a crafty Wench, I like her Wit well ; 
 'twill be rare to ftir up a leaden Appetite ; fhe's a Danae, 
 and muft be courted in a Show'r of Gold. Madam, look 
 here, all thefe, and more, than. 
 
 GaL What have you there, my Lord .? Gold .'' Now, 
 as I live, 'tis fair Gold ; you would have Silver for it to 
 play with the Pages ; you could not have taken me in 
 a worfe time ; but if you have prefent Ufe, my Lord, 
 I'll fend my Man with Silver, and keep your Gold for 
 you. 
 
 Pha. Lady, Lady. 
 
 GaL She's coming. Sir, behind, will take white Money. 
 Yet for all this PU match ye. 
 
 [£.v// Gal. behind the Hangings. 
 
 (22) you can /hoot in a Tiller {] i. e. a Stand; a fmall Tree left in 
 in a Wood for Growth, till k is fellable : Or it may mean rather, in- 
 a Steel-bow ; quafi dicas, a Steelcr : i. e. Arcus chaljheatus, as 
 Skinner fays in his Etymokgicum. 
 
 Pha, 
 
PHILASTER. Its 
 
 Pha. If there be but two fuch more in this Kingdom, 
 and near tlie Court, we may even hang up our Harps. 
 Ten fuch Camphire Conflitutions, as this, would call the 
 Golden Age again in Queftion ; and teach the old way 
 for every ill-tac'd Husband to get his own Children ; and 
 what a Mifchief that will breed, let all confider! 
 
 Enter Megra. 
 
 Here's another \ if flie be of the fame Laft, the Devil 
 Ihall pluck her on. Many fair Mornings, Lady. 
 
 Meg. As many Mornings bring as many Days, 
 Fair, fweet, and hopeful to your Grace. 
 
 Pha. She gives good Words yetj lure, tliis Wench 
 is free. 
 If your more ferious Bufinefs do not call you. 
 Let me hold Quarter with you, we'll talk an Hour 
 Out quickly. Meg. What would ynxjx Grace t-alk of ? 
 
 Pha. Of fome fuch pretty Subjeft as yourfelf. 
 I'll go no fiirther than your Eye, or Lip ; 
 There's Theme enough for one Man for an Age. 
 
 Mfg. Sir, they Hand right, and my Lips are yet even. 
 Smooth, young enough, ripe enough, red enough. 
 Or my Glafs wrongs me. 
 
 Pha. O, they arc two twinn'd Cherries dyed in Blufhes, 
 Which thofe fair Suns above with their bright Beams 
 Refledl upon and ripen. Sweeteft Beauty, 
 Bow down thofe Branches, that the longing Tafte 
 Of the faint Looker-on may meet thofe Bleflings, 
 And tafte and live. Meg. O delicate fweet Prince ! 
 She that hath Snow enough about her Heart, 
 To take the wanton Spring of ten fuch Lines off. 
 May be a Nun without Probation. 
 Sir, you've, in fuch neat Poetr)'', gathcr'd a kifs. 
 That if I had but five Lines of that Number, 
 Such pretty begging Blanks, I fhould commend 
 Your Fore-head, or your Cheeks, and kifs you too. 
 
 Pha. Do it in Profe -, you cannot mifs it, Madam. 
 
 Meg. I fhall, I fhall. Pha. By my Life, you Ihall not.' 
 I'll prompt you firft : Can you do it now ? 
 
 Meg. Methinks, 'tis eafy, now I ha' don't before ; 
 
 J 2 But 
 
ii6 PHILAStER. 
 
 But yet I Ihould flick at it. 'Pha. Stick till To-morrow j 
 I'll ne'er part you, Sweetell. But we lofc time, 
 Can you love me ? 
 
 Meg. Love you, my Lord ? How would you have me 
 love you ? 
 
 Tha. I'll teach you in a fliort Sentence, 'caufe I will, 
 not load your Memory •, tliis is all. Love me, and lie 
 with me. 
 
 Meg. Was it lie with you, that you faid.? *Tis im- 
 pofTihle. 
 
 Phii Not to a willing Mind, that will endeavour \ if 
 I do net teach you to do it as eafily in one Night, as 
 you'll go to Bed, I'll lofe my Royal Blood tor't, 
 
 Meg. "Why, Prince, you have a Lady of your own, 
 that yet wants teaching. 
 
 Pha. I'll fooner teach a Mare the old Meafures, than 
 teach her any thing belonging to the Fundion ; fhe's 
 afraid to lie with herfelf if fhe have but any mafculinc 
 Imaginations about her -, I know, when we are married, 
 I muft ravifh her. 
 
 Meg. By my Honour, that's a foul Fault, indeed ; but 
 Time and your good Help will wear it out. Sir. 
 
 Pha. And for any other I fee, excepting your dear 
 Self, deareft Lady, I had rather be Sir Tim the School- 
 maflcr, and leap a Dairy-maid. 
 
 Meg. Has your Grace feen the Court-ftar Galatea? 
 
 Pha. Out upon her ! She's as cold of her Favour as 
 an Apoplex : She fail'd by but now. 
 
 Meg. And how do you hold her Wit, Sir .? 
 
 Pha. I hold her Wit .=• The Strength of all the Guard 
 cannot hold it, if they were tied to it -, flie would blow 
 'em out of the Kingdom ; they talk of Jupiter., he's but 
 a Squib-cracker to her : Look well about you, and you 
 may find a Tongue-bolt. But fpeak, iweet Lady, fhall 
 I be freely welcome ^. 
 
 Meg. Whither.^ 
 
 Pha. To your Bed \ if you miftrufl my Faith, you do 
 me the unnoblefl Wrong. 
 
 Meg. I dare not, Prince, I dare not. 
 
 Pha. Make your own Conditions, my Purfe Ihall feal 
 
 'em; 
 
PHILASTER. ii-j 
 
 'em ; and what you dare imagine you can want, Til fur- 
 nifh you withal : Give two Hours to your Thoughts every 
 Morning about it. Come, I know, you are bafhful ; 
 fpcak in my Ear, will you be mine ? Keep this, and with 
 it me : Soon I will vifit you. 
 
 Meg. My Lord, my Chamber's mod unfafe ; but when 
 'tis Night, I'll find fome means to flip into your Lodging: 
 till when- • 
 
 Pba. Till when, this, and my Heart go with thee ! 
 
 {Exeunt [ever at ways. 
 
 Enter Galatea from behind the Hangings. 
 
 Gal. Oh, thou pernicious Petticoat-Prince! Are thefc 
 your Virtues ? Well, if I do not lay a Train to blow your 
 Sport up, I am no Woman: (23) And, Lady Dowfabel, 
 I'll fit you for't. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Arethufa and a Lady. 
 
 jire. Where's the Boy ? Lady. Within, Madam. 
 Are. Gave you him Gold to buy him Cloaths ? 
 Lady. I did. Arc. And has he don't ^ 
 Lady. Yes, Madam. 
 
 Are. 'Tis a pretty fad-talking Boy, is it not? 
 Ask'd you his Name? Lady. No, Madam. 
 
 Enter Galatea. 
 
 Are. O, you are welcome ; what good News ? 
 
 Gal. As good as any one can tell your Grace, 
 That fays, ftie hath done that you would have willi'd. 
 
 Are. Haft thou difcover'd ? 
 
 Gal. I have ftrain'd a Point of Modefty for you. 
 
 Are. 1 prithee, how ? 
 
 Gal. In lift'ning after Bawdry •, I fee, let a Lady live 
 never fo modeftly, flie fhall be lure to find a lawfijl time 
 
 {23) and, Lfl^yTowfabel, P II fit you for'' t .'] There's no fuch Word 
 as To^vfabel, that I know, or that is acknowledged by any of the 
 Dictionaries. I think, by the Change of a fingle Letter, I have rc- 
 trievM the genuine Word of our Poets, Doivfabel. This is oi French 
 Extradlion. Douce et belle ; ;. e. Sweet, and fair: Butvit is here inten- 
 d£d ironically, and in Derilion. 
 
 I 3 to 
 
»i8 PHILASTER. 
 
 to hearken after Bawdry •, your Prince, brave Pharamond, 
 was fo hot on't. Are. With whom ? 
 
 Gal Why, vdth the Lady I fufpected : I can tell the 
 Time and Place. 
 
 Are. O when, and where ? 
 
 Gal. To Night, his Lodging. 
 
 Are. Run thyfelf into the Prefence, mingle there again 
 W^ith other Ladies ; leave the reft to me ; 
 If Deftiny (to whom we dare not fay, 
 Why did'Ji thou this?) have not decreed it fo 
 In lafting Leaves (whofe fmalleft Charadlers 
 Were never altered j) yet, this Match fhall break. 
 Where's the Boy ? Lady. Here, Madam. 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 Are. Sir, you are fad to change your Service, is't not fo ? 
 
 Bel. Madam, I have not chang'd ; I wait on you. 
 To do him Service. Are. Thou difclaim'ft in me j 
 Tell me thy Name. Bel. Bellario. 
 
 Are. Thou can'ft fing, and play ? 
 
 Bel, If Grief will give me Leave, Madam, I can. 
 , Are, Alas ! What kind of Grief can thy Years know "> 
 Had'ft thou a curft Mafter when thou went'ft to School? 
 Thou art not capable of other Grief ; 
 Thy Brows and Cheeks are fmooth as Waters be. 
 When no Breath troubles them : Believe me. Boy, 
 Care feeks out wrinkled Brows and hollow Eyes, 
 And builds himfelf Caves to abide in them. 
 Come, Sir, tell me truly, does your Lord love me ? 
 
 Bel. Love, Madam? I know not what it is. 
 
 Are. Can'ft thou know Grief, and never yet kncw'ft 
 Love ? 
 Thou art deceiv'd. Boy -, does he fpeak of me. 
 As if he wifh'd me well ? Bel. If it be Love, 
 To forget all Relpeft of his own Friends, 
 In thinking on your Face •, if it be Love, 
 To fit crofs-arm'd, and figh away the Day, 
 Mingled with Starts, crying your Name as loud 
 And haftily, as Men i' th' Streets do Fire : 
 If it be Love, to weep himfelf away, 
 
 When 
 
PHILASTER. 119 
 
 When he but hears of any Lady dead. 
 
 Or kill'd, becaufe it might have been your Chance ; 
 
 If, when he goes to Reft (which will not be) 
 
 'Twixt ev'ry Prayer he fays, he names you once 
 
 As others drop a Bead, be to be in Love ; 
 
 Then, Madam, I dare fwear he loves you. Are. O ! 
 
 You arc a cunning Boy, and taught to lie. 
 
 For your Lord's Credit ; but thou knowell, a Lye, 
 
 That bears this Sound, is welcomer to me. 
 
 Than any Truth, that fays, he loves me not. 
 
 Lead the Way, Boy : Do you attend me too ; 
 
 'Tis thy Lord's Bufinefs haftes me thus j Away. 
 
 [ Exeunt, 
 
 Enter Dion, Cleremont, Thrafiline, Megra, and 
 Galatea. 
 
 Dion. Come, Ladies, fhall we talk a Round .^ As Men 
 Do walk a Mile, Women fhould talk an Hour 
 After Supper: 'Tis their Exercife. Gal. 'Tis late. 
 
 Meg. 'Tis all 
 My Eyes will do to lead me to my Bed. 
 
 Gal. I fear, they are fo heavy, you'll fcarce find 
 The Way to your Lodging witJi 'em to Night. 
 
 Enter Pharamond. 
 
 Thra. The Prince 
 
 Pha. Not a-bed. Ladies ? You're good Sitters up ; 
 What think you of a pleafant Dream to laft 
 Till Morning? [it. 
 
 Meg. I fhould chufe, my Lord, a pleafing Wake before 
 
 Enter Arethufa and Bellario. 
 
 Are. *Tis well, my Lord, you're courting of the Ladies. 
 Is't not late. Gentlemen .'' 
 
 Cle. Yes, Madam. 
 
 Are. Wait you there. [Exit Arethufa." 
 
 Meg. She's jealous, as I live-, look you, my Lord, 
 The Princefs has a Hilas., an Adonis. 
 
 Pha. His Form is Angel-like. 
 
 Meg. Why, this is he n ufl, when you once are wed, 
 
 I 4 ^ Sit 
 
I20 PHILASTER. 
 
 Sit by your Pillow, like young ylpcllo^ with 
 
 His 1 a and and Voice, binding your Thoughts in Sleep ; 
 
 The Princefs does provide him for you, and for herfelf, 
 
 Pha. i find no Mufick in thefe Boys. Meg. Nor I. 
 They can do little, and that fmall they do. 
 They have not W it to hide. 
 
 Dion. Serves he the Princefs ^ Thra. Yes. 
 
 T>icn. 'Tis a fweet Boy, how brave fhe keeps him ! 
 
 Pha. I^adies all, good Rcll ; I mean to kili a Buck 
 To-morrow Morning, ere you've done your Dreams. 
 
 [^Exit Phar. 
 
 Meg. All Happinefs attend your Grace ! Gentlemen, 
 good Reft J 
 Come, fhall we to Bed .'' 
 
 Gal. Yes, all good Night. [E^. Gal. and Meg, 
 
 Dion. May your Dreams be true to you -, 
 What fhall we do, Gallants .? 'Tis late, the King 
 Is up ftill, fee, he comes, a Guard along 
 With him. 
 
 Enter King, Arethufa and Guard. 
 
 King. Look, your Intelligence be true. 
 
 Are. Upon my Life, it is : And I do hope. 
 Your Highnefs will not tie me to a Man, 
 That in the Heat of Wooing throws me off. 
 And takes another. Dion. What fhould this mean ? 
 
 King, ii it be true. 
 That Lady had much better have embrac*d 
 Curelefs Difeafes ; get you to your Reft. Ex. Are. and Bel. 
 You ihall be righted : Gentlemen, draw near. 
 We fhall imploy you : Is young Phar amend 
 Come to his Lodging .'' Dion. I faw him enter there. 
 
 King. Hafte, fome of you, and cunningly difcover 
 If Megra be in her Lodging. Cle. Sir, 
 She parted hence but now with other Ladies. 
 
 _ King. If fhe be there, we fhall not need to make 
 A vain Difcovery of our Sufpicion. 
 You Gods, I fee, that who unrighteouHy 
 Holds Wealth, or State from others, fhall be curfl 
 In that, which meaner Men are bleft withal : 
 Ages to come fhall know no Male of him Left 
 
PHILASrER. 121 
 
 Left to inherit i and his Name fliall be 
 
 Blotted from the Earth: If he have any Child, 
 
 It fliall be crofsly match'd ; the Gods themielves 
 
 Shall fow wild Strife betwixt her Lord and her. 
 
 Yet, if it be your Wills, forgive the Sin 
 
 I have committed ; let it not fall 
 
 Upon this underftanding Child of mine; 
 
 She has not broke your Laws ; (24.) but how can I 
 
 Look to be heard of Gods, that mufl be jufl. 
 
 Praying upon the Ground I hold by Wrong ? 
 
 Enter Dion. 
 
 Dion. Sir, I have asked, and her Women (wear, flie is 
 within; but they, I think, are Bawds •, I told 'em, I muft 
 Ipeak with her: They laugh'd, and faid, their Lady lay 
 fpecchlefs. I faid, my Bufinefs was important ; they faid, 
 their Lady was about it : I grew hot, and cried, my Bufi- 
 nefs was a matter that concern'd Life and Death •, they 
 anfwer'd, fo was Sleeping, at which their Lady was ; I 
 urg'd again, Ihe had icarce time to be fo fince laft I faw 
 her ; they fmil'd again, and leem'd to inftrud me, that 
 Sleeping was nothing but lying down and winking : An- 
 fwers more dired I could not get : Jn fliort, Sir, I think, 
 fhe is not there. 
 
 King. 'Tis then no time to dally : You o'th' Guard, 
 Wait at the Back-door of the Prince's Lodging ; 
 And fee that none pais thence, upon your Lives. 
 Knock, Gentlemen : Knock louder : louder yet : 
 What, has their Pleafure taken off their Hearing ? 
 I'll break your Meditations. Knock again : 
 
 ( 24) ■ but honx) can I 
 
 Look to be heard of Gods, that muft hejuft. 
 
 Praying upon the Ground I hold by 1Vrorg?'\ In this Sentiment 
 our Authors feem to be copying Shake/peare, in a noble Paflage of his 
 Hamlet. 
 
 • Forgii-e me my foul Murther ! 
 
 That cannot be, fince 1 am fill poffefs" d 
 
 Of tho/e EffeSisfor nuhich J did the Murther; 
 
 JV/y Croivn, my onvn Ambition, and my ^een. 
 
 May one be pardoned, and retain th'' Offence? &c. 
 
 Not 
 
122 T> H I L A S r E R. 
 
 Not yet ? I do not think, he fleeps, having this 
 L arum by him J once more j Pharamond^ Prince. 
 
 Pharamond above. 
 
 Pha. What fawcy Groom knocks at this Dead of Night? 
 Where be our Waiters? By my vexed Soul, 
 He meets his Death, that meets mc, for this Boldnefs. 
 
 King. Prince, you do wrong your Thoughts, we arc 
 your Friends ; 
 Come down. Pba. The King ? 
 
 King. The fame. Sir, come down, 
 We have Caufe of prefent Counfel with you. 
 . Pha. If your Grace pleafe to ufe me, PU attend you 
 To your Chamber. [Pha. below. 
 
 King. No, 'tis too late. Prince, Pll make bold with yours. 
 
 Pha. I have fome private Reafons to myfelf, 
 Make me unrnannerly, and fay, you cannot ; 
 Nay, prefs not forward. Gentlemen, he muft 
 Come through my Life, that comes here. [Enters. 
 
 King. Sir, be rcfolv'd, 
 I muft and -will come. 
 
 Pha. Pll not be difhonour'd -, 
 He that enters here, enters upon his Death. 
 Sir, 'tis a Sign you make no Stranger of mc. 
 To bring thefe Renegadoes to my Chamber, 
 At thefe unfeafon'd Hours. King. Why do you 
 Chafe yourfelf fo ? You are not wrong'd, nor fhall be ; 
 Only I'll fearch your Lodging, for fome Caufe 
 To ourfelf known : Enter, I fay. • 
 
 Pha. I fay, no. [Meg. above, 
 
 Meg. Let 'em enter. Prince, let 'em enter, 
 I am up, and ready; I do know their Bufmefs, 
 'Tis the poor breaking of a Lady's Honour, 
 They hunt fo hotly after ; let 'em enjoy it. 
 You have your Bufmefs, Gentlemen, I lay here. 
 My Lord the King, this is not noble in you 
 To make publick the Weaknefs of a Woman. 
 
 King. Come down. [Clamors, 
 
 Meg. I dare, my Lordj your Whootings and your 
 
 Your 
 
PHILASTER. 123 
 
 (25) Your private Whifpers, and your broader Fleerings, 
 Can no more vex my Soul, than this bafe Carriage i 
 But I have Vengeance yet in Store for fome, 
 Shall, in the moll Contempt you can have of me, 
 Be Joy and Nourifhment. 
 
 King. Will you come down ? 
 
 (26) Meg. Yes, to laugh at your Woi-ft: But I fhall 
 wring you. 
 If my Skill fail me not. 
 
 King., Sir, I mufl dearly chide you for this Loofenefs, 
 You have wrong' d a worthy Lady; but, no more, 
 Condud him to my Lodging, and to Bed. 
 
 Cle. Get him another Wench, and you bring him to 
 Bed indeed. 
 
 (25) Tour pri'uate im/pers and your hroz^ Fleerings, "l This is no 
 Verfe, however it has currently paiVd the Ears of all the Editors. 
 The Addition, which I have made, of a Angle Syllable both improves 
 the Senfe and retrieves the Metre. 
 
 (26) Tes, to laugh at your <v:orJl ; hut I Jhall \\rrongyou,'\ Mcgra. dc- 
 fign'd to accufe the Princefs of a Faifi:, v.hich fhe had a Itrong Sulpi- 
 cion of her being really guilty of. She had mention'd it before to the 
 Prince ; and there were Circumftances enough to make a Woman, 
 who was bad herfelf, believe the Princefs fo. How then could Ihe 
 {ay, fl'.e would 'vcrong the King, when fhe believ'd what fhe was to 
 fpeak. ? Befides, it is not a true fcolding Word. I would fubfiitute, 
 nvorji ; which differs but in two Letters, and is an excellent one for 
 the purpofe. The Jingle and Reduplication of the fame Word is fre- 
 quently prafti^j'd by our Poets, tjo in Rule a Wife, and hanje a 
 Wife. 
 
 1 find thee a Vfi(e young Wife. Efli. /'// wife yowr 
 Worjhip. Mr. SeiL-ard. 
 
 Notwithftanding this ingenious Conjefture, I am pretty certain that 
 the Word, which I have inferred, is the true Reading : becaufe it 
 has the Authority of the ^artoh in 1628, and 1634 > ^""^ is likewife 
 ufcd in the fame Senfe by our Poets in other PaiTages. So, in the 
 Elder Brother; 
 
 for r<ve the Douce ts of his Gra^vity 
 
 Faji in a String, and luill fo pinch and wring him. 
 And the Humourous Lieutenant; 
 
 Will Nothing w ring yeu, then, d'ye think ? 
 And fo in Women pleas d; 
 
 Wringing a7)id kicking up to tlS" Ears in Leo e yonder, 
 kc. &c. 
 
 Dion, 
 
124 PHILASTER. 
 
 Dion. (27) 'Tisflrange, a Man can't ride a Stage or two. 
 To breathe himfelf, without a Warrant for't : 
 If this Geer hold, that Lodgings be fearch'd thus, 
 Pray Heav'n, we may he with our own Wives in Safety, 
 That they be not by fome Trick of State miftaken. 
 
 Ef2Ur Megra. 
 
 King. Now, Lady of Honour, where's your Honour now? 
 No Man can fit your Palate, but the Prince. 
 Thou moft ill-fhrowded Rottennefs ; thou Piece 
 Made by a Painter and a 'PotJiecary ; 
 Thou troubled Sea of Luit; thou Wildemefs, 
 Inhabited by wild Thoughts ^ thou fwoln Cloud of 
 Infection -, thou ripe Mine of all Difeafes ; 
 Thou all Sin, all Hell, laft, all Devils, tell me. 
 Had you none to puH on with your Courtefies, 
 But he that muft be mijie, and wrong my Daughter ? 
 By all the Gods, all thcfe, and all the Pages, 
 y\nd all the Court, fhall hoot thee through the Court ; 
 Fling rotten Oranges, make ribald Rhymes, 
 And fear thy Name with Candles upon Walls : 
 Do you laugh, Lady Fenus ? 
 
 Meg. 'Faith, Sir, you mufl pardon me ; 
 I cannot chufe but laugh to fee you merry. 
 If you do this, O King •, nay, if you dare do it •, 
 By all thofe Gods you fwore by, and as many 
 More of my own ; I will have Fellows, and 
 Such Fellows in it, as fliall make noble Mirth. 
 The Princefs, your dear Daughter, fhall ftand by me 
 On Walls, and fung in Ballads, any thing : 
 Urge me no more, I know her and her Haunts, 
 Her Layes, Leaps, and Outlays, and will difcover all ; 
 Nay, will diflionour her. I know the Boy 
 
 (27) 'Tis Jlrange a Man cannot ride a Stag] 'Tis very unufual, I 
 believe, to ride a Stag : Nor is the ExprelTion ever ufed, that I know, 
 to ride a Stag, meaning, to ride after, or hunt donxjn one My Al- 
 teration rellores the true Reading of the Poets. So, in the fame Senfe, 
 in the Cuftom of the Country ; 
 
 Five Dames to Day ; this nuas but a fmall Stage. 
 
 She 
 
PHIL ASTER. 125 
 
 She keeps, a handlbme Boy ; about eighteen ; 
 Know what ihc does with him, and where, and when. 
 Come, Sir, you put me to a Woman's Madnefs, 
 The Glory of a Fury •, and if 1 do not 
 Do it to the height 
 
 King. What Boy is this fhe raves at ? [things ? 
 
 Msg. Alas! good -minded Prince, you know not thcfe 
 I am loth to reveal 'em. Keep this Fault, 
 As you would keep your Health, from the hot Air 
 Of the corrupted People ; or, by Heav'n, 
 I will not fall alone : What I have known. 
 Shall be as publick as a Print ; all Tongues 
 Shall fpeak it, as they do the Language they 
 Are born in, free and commonly j PII fet it 
 Like a prodigious Star for all to gaze at. 
 So high and glowing, that Kingdoms far and foreign 
 Shall read it there, nay, travel with it, 'till they find 
 No Tongue to make it more, nor no more People ; 
 And then behold the Fall of your fair Princefs. 
 
 King. Has (he a Boy ? 
 
 Cle. So pleafe your Grace, I have ictn a Boy wait 
 On her, a fair Boy. 
 
 King. Go, get you to your Quarter : 
 For this time I'll Itudy to forget you. 
 
 Meg. Do you ftudy to forget me, and TU ftudy 
 To forget you. [^Ex. King, Meg. and Guard. 
 
 Cle. Why, here's a Male Spirit for Hercules ; if ever 
 there be nine Worthies of Women, this Wench fhall ride 
 aftride, and be their Captain. 
 
 Dion. Sure, fhe has a Garrifon of Devils in her Tongue, 
 flie uttereth fuch Balls of W ild-fire. Sht has fo nettled the 
 King, that all the Dodors in the Country will fcarce cure 
 him. That Boy was a ftrange-found-out Antidote to cure 
 her Infeftion : that Boy, that Princefs* Boy; that brave, 
 chafte, virtuous Lady's Boy ; and a fair Boy, a well fpo- 
 ken Boy : All thefe confider'd, can make nothing dk — 
 But there I leave you. Gentlemen. 
 
 Thru. Nay, we'll go wander with you. [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT 
 
126 PHILASrER. 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter CIcremont, Dion, and Thrafiline. 
 
 Qe. ^\T A Y, doubtlefs, 'tis true. 
 
 -*-^ Dion. Ay, and 'tis the Gods, 
 That rais'd this Punifliment to fcourge the King 
 With his own Ifllie : Js it not a Shame 
 For us, that iliould write Noble in the Land, 
 For us, that fhould be Freemen, to behold 
 A Man, that is the Bravery of his Age, 
 Fhilafie)\ preft down from his Royal Right, 
 By this regardlefs King? and only look. 
 And fee the Scepter ready to be caft 
 Into the Hands of that lafcivious Lady, 
 That lives in Luft widi a fmooth Boy, now to be 
 Married to yon ftrange Prince, wlio, but that People 
 Pleafc to let him be a Prince, i.s born a Slave 
 Jn that which fhould be his moll Noble Part, 
 His Mind ? Thra. That Man, that would not ftir with you. 
 To aid Philajier^ let the Gods forget 
 That fuch a Creature walks upon the Earth. 
 
 Cle. Philafier is too backward in't himielf ; 
 The Gentry do await it, (28) and the People, 
 Againft their Nature, are all bent for him. 
 And like a Field of {landing Corn, that's mov'd 
 With a fliff Gale, their Heads bow all one way. 
 
 Dion. The only Cai>fe, that draws Philafter back 
 From this Attempt, is the fair Princefs' Love, 
 Which he admires, and we can now confute. 
 
 (28) afid the People, 
 
 Jlgaitifi their Nature, are all bent for him. '\ This feems, at 
 firft View, an odd Paflage. How are the People again ji their Natures 
 for Philajler? What, was there never any People unanimous in their 
 Choice of a Governor ? I take it, he muil be underftood, as mean- 
 ing, the People (whofe Nature for the moll part is unconftant, giddy, 
 and wavering) are now fo well allured of Philajler ^ Worth, and 
 Right to the Crown, join'd to his prefent ill Ufage, that they are re- 
 lolv'd and Heady to do him Jufticc. This is properly ftyled. againji 
 their Nature, or Cuitom. Mr. Sympfon. 
 
 'Thra. 
 
P H I L A S r E R. 127 
 
 V^hra. Perhaps he'll not believe it. 
 
 Dion. \N hy, Gentlemen, 
 'Tis without queftion fo. Cle. Ay, 'tis paft Speech, 
 She lives dinioneftly. But how fliall we. 
 If he be curious, work upon his Faith ? 
 
 Thra. We all are latisfied within ourfelves. 
 
 Dion. Since it is true, and tends to his own Good, 
 I'll make this new Report to be my Knowledge, 
 I'll fay, I know it-, nay, I'll fwear, I faw it. 
 
 Cle. It will be beft. Thra. * Twill move him. 
 
 Enter Philafler. 
 
 Dion. Here he comes. 
 Good-morrow to your Honour, we have fpent 
 Some time in feeking you. Phi. My worthy Friends, 
 You that can keep your Memories to know 
 Your Friend in Miferies, and cannot frown 
 On Men difgrac'd for Virtue, a good Day 
 Attend you all. What Service may I do 
 Worthy your Acceptation.'* Dion, my good Lord, 
 W^c come to urge that Virtue, which we know 
 Lives in your Bread, forth •, rife, and make a Head ; 
 The Nobles and the People are all dull'd 
 With this ufurping King -, and not a Man, 
 That ever heard the World, or knew fuch Thing 
 As Virtue, but will fecond your Attempts; 
 
 Phi. How honourable is this Love in you 
 To me, that have defei-v'd none ? Know, my Friends, 
 (You, that were born to fhame your poor Philafter 
 With too much Courtefy) I cou'd afford 
 To melt myfelf in Thanks ; but my Defigns 
 Are not yet ripe; fuiBce it, that ere long 
 I Ihall imploy your Loves : but yet the Time 
 Is fhort of what I wou'd. 
 
 Dion. The Time is fuller. Sir, than you expert ; 
 That which hereafter will not, perhaps, be reach'd 
 By Violence, may now be caught. As for the King, 
 You know, the People have long hated him , 
 But now the Princefs, whom they lov*d. — 
 
 Phi. Why, what of her .'' 
 
 Dion. 
 
128 PHILASTER. 
 
 Dion. Is loath'd as much as he. 
 
 Phi. By what flrange Means ? 
 
 Dion. She's known a Whore. Phi. Thou lyefl:. 
 
 Dion. My Lord 
 
 Phi. Thou lycft, [Offers to draw., and iihdi. 
 
 And diou fhaJt tcel it •, I had thought, thy Mind 
 Had been of Honour. Thus to rob a Lady 
 Of her good Name, is an infectious Sin, 
 Not to be pardon'd ; be it falfe as Hell, 
 'Twill never be redeem'd, if it be fown 
 Amongft the People, fruitful to increafe 
 All Evil they Hiali hear. Let me alone. 
 That I may cut off FaKhood, whilft it fprings. 
 Set Hills on Hills betwixt me and the Man 
 That utters this, and I will fcale them all. 
 And from the utmofl Top fall on his Neck, 
 Like Thunder from a Cloud. Dion. This is mofl ftrangc; 
 Sure, he does love her. Phi. I do love fair Truth : 
 She is my Miflrefs, and who injures her. 
 Draws Vengeance from me. Sirs, let go my Arms. 
 
 Thra. Nay, good my Lord, be patient. 
 
 Cle. Sir, remember 
 This is your honour'd Friend, that comes to do 
 His Service, and will fhew you why he utter'd this. 
 
 Phil. I ask you pardon. Sir, my Zeal to Truth 
 Made me unmannerly : Should I have heard 
 Difhonour fpoke of you, behind your Back 
 Untruly, I had been as much diftemper'd, 
 Enrag'd, as now. Dion. But this, my Lord, is Truth. 
 
 Phi. O, fay not fo; good Sir, forbear to fay fb ; 
 (29) 'Tis Truth then, that all Womankind is falfe ; 
 Urge it no more, it is impoffible •, 
 W^hy fhould you think the Princcfs light .'' 
 Dion. Why, fhe was taken at it. 
 Phi. 'Tis falfe; by Heav'n, 'tis falfe; it cannot be. 
 Can it .'' Speak, Gentlemen ; for Love of Truth, fpeak ; 
 
 (29) 'TVj the Truth that all Wemanhind is falfe ; ] There is here 
 very little Remains of either Senfe, or Meafure. The Addition of one 
 Letter will reftore the Former, and the Tranipofition of two Words 
 the Latter. This Emendation is aiwhoriz'd by the belt old Carta's. 
 
 Mr. Seivard. 
 
 Is't 
 
PHI LA ST ER. 129 
 
 Is't pofllble ? can Women ail be damn'd ? 
 
 Dion Why, no, my Lord. 
 
 Phi. Why, then it cannot b?. 
 
 Dion. And fhe was taken with her Boy. 
 
 Phi. What Boy? 
 
 Dicn. A Page, a Boy that ferves her. 
 
 Phi. O good Gods, 
 A litde Boy 
 
 Dion. Ay, know you him, my Lord ? 
 
 Phi. Hell and Sin know him ! Sir, you are decelv'd ; 
 I'll reafon it a little coldly with you ; 
 If Ihe were lullful, would Ihe take a Boy, 
 That knows not yet Defire ? fhe would have One 
 Should meet her Thoughts, and know the Sin he afts. 
 Which is the great Delight of Wickednefs ; 
 You are abus'd, and fo is fhe, and I. 
 
 Dion. How you, my Lord ? 
 
 Phi. Why, all the World's abus'd 
 In an unjull Report. Dion. Oh, noble Sir, your Virtues 
 Cannot look into the fubtle Thoughts of Woman. 
 In fhort, my Lord, I took them : I myfelf. 
 
 Phi. Now, all the Devils, thou didfti fly from my Rage: 
 'Would, thou hadft ta'en Devils ingendring Plagues, 
 When thou didft take them ; hide thee from my Eyes. 
 'Would, thou hadft taken Thunder on thy Breaft, 
 "When thou didft take them -, or been ftrucken dumb 
 For ever ; that this foul Deed might have (lept 
 In Silence. Thra. Have you known him fo lil-temper'd ? 
 
 Cle. Never before. Phi. The Winds, that are let loofe 
 From the four feveral Corners of the Earth, 
 And fpread themfelves all over Sea and Land, 
 Kifs not a chafte one. What Friend bears a Sword 
 To run me through ? 
 
 Dion. Why, my Lord, are you fo mov'd at this ? 
 
 Phi. When any falls from Virtue, I am diftraded -, 
 I have an Intereft in't. 
 
 Dion. But, good my Lord, recall yourfelf. 
 And think, w'lar's beft to be done. 
 Phi. I thank you, I will do it; 
 Pleafe you to leave me, I'll confider of it : 
 Vol. I. K To 
 
ijo PHILASTER. 
 
 To morrow I will find your Lodging forth, 
 (30) And give you Anfwer. 
 
 Bion. All the Gods direft you 
 The readieft Way ! 
 
 ^hra. He was extream impatient. 
 
 Cle. It was his Virtue, and his noble Mind. 
 
 {Exeunt Dion, Cleo. and Thra. 
 
 t^hi. I had forgot to ask him, where he took them j 
 
 I'll follow him. O, that I had a Sea 
 
 Within my Breaft, to quench the Fire I feel ! 
 More Circumllances will but fan this Fire ; 
 It more afflidts me now, to know by whom 
 This Deed is done, than fimply that 'tis done : 
 And he, that tells me this, is honourable. 
 As far from Lies, as flie is far from Truth. 
 O, that like Beafts, we could not grieve ourfelves. 
 With that we fee not ! Bulls and Rams will fight. 
 To keep their Females Handing in their Sight ; 
 But take 'em from them, and you take at once 
 Their Spleens away ; and they will fall again 
 Unto their Failures, growing frefh and fat ; 
 And taile the Water of the Springs as fweet 
 As 'twas before, finding no Start in Sleep. 
 But miferable Man ■ See, fee, you Gods, 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 He wallcs ftill ; and the Face, you let him wear 
 
 When he was innocent, is ftill the fame. 
 
 Not blafted -, Is this Jufticc ? Do you mean 
 
 To intrap Mortality, that you allow 
 
 Treafon fo fmooth a Brow.'' I cannot now 
 
 Think, he is guilty. Bel. Health to you, my Lord ! 
 
 The Princefs doth commend her Love, her Life, 
 
 And this unto you. Phi. Oh Bellario^ 
 
 Now I perceive fhe loves me, fhe does Ihew it 
 
 (30) And gin} e you Anfwer. 
 
 The readieft Way. Dion. All the Gods dire£l you."] This is 
 the nonfenfical Collocation of all the printed Copies. The Tranfpo- 
 fition, which I have made, is felf-evident, and deferves no farther 
 Proof. 
 
 In 
 
PHtLASTER. 131. 
 
 In loving thee, my Boy ; fh'as made thee brave. 
 
 Bel. My Lord, (he has attired me paft my Wilh, 
 Paft my Defert; more fit for her Attendant, 
 Though far unfit for me, who do attend. 
 
 Phi. Thou art grown courtly, Boy. O, let all Women, 
 That love black Deeds, learn to dilfemble here ! 
 Here, by this Paper fhc docs write to me, 
 As if her Heart were Mines of Adamant 
 To all the V\ orld be fides ; but, unto me, 
 A Maiden-fiiow that melted with my Looks. 
 Tell me, my Boy, how doth the Princcfs ufe thee ? 
 For I Ihall guefs her Love to me by that. 
 
 Bel. Scarce like her Servant, but as if I were 
 Something ally'd to her; or had preferv'd 
 Her Life three times by my Fidelity. 
 As Mothers fond do ufe their only Sons ; 
 As I'd ufe one, that's left unto my Truft, 
 For whom my Life fhould pay, if he met Harm, 
 So fhe docs ufe me. Phi. Why, this is wondrous well : 
 But what kind Language does fhe feed thee with ? 
 
 Bel. Why, flie does tell me, fhe will truft my Youth 
 With all her loving Secrets; and does call me 
 Her pretty Servant, bids me weep no more 
 For leaving you -, fhe'll fee my Services 
 Regarded •, and fuch Words of that foft Strain, 
 That I am nearer weeping when fhe ends 
 Than e'er fhe fpake. Phi. This is much better ftillr 
 
 Bel. Are you not ill, my Lord .'' 
 
 Phi. 111? No, Bellario. 
 
 Bel. Methinks, your Words 
 Fall not from off your Tongue fo evenly. 
 Nor is there in your Looks that Quietnefs, 
 That I was wont to fee. ■ ■■■ ■ 
 
 Phi. Thou art deceiv'd, Boy : 
 And fhe flroaks thy Head .'* 
 
 Bel. Yes. Phi. And does clap thy Cheeks ? 
 
 Bel. She does, my Lord. 
 
 Phi. And fhe does kifs thee. Boy? ha! 
 
 Bel. How, my Lord ? 
 
 K 2 ^^^ 
 
132 PHILASTER. 
 
 Phi. She kilTes thee? Bel Never, my lord, by 
 
 Phi. Come, come, I know Ihe does. [Heav'n, 
 
 Bel. No, by my Life. 
 
 Phi. Why, then, fhe does not love me; come, fhe does, 
 1 bad her do it; I charg'd iier by all Charms 
 Of Love between us, by the Hope of Peace 
 We fhould enjoy, to yield thee all Delights 
 Naked, as to her Bed : I took her Oadi, 
 Thou fhould'ft enjoy her : Tell me, gentle Boy, 
 Is fhe not parallelcfs ^. Is not her Breath 
 Sweet as Arabian Winds, when Fruits are ripe ? 
 Are not her Breafts two liquid Ivory Balls .'' 
 Is fhe not all a lafling Mine of Joy ? 
 
 Bel. Ay, now I fee, why my diilurbed Thoughts 
 Were fo perplext. When firfl I went to her, 
 My Heart held Augury ; you are abus*d. 
 Some Villain has abus'd you ; I do fee. 
 Whereto you tend ; Fall Rocks upon his Head, 
 That put this to you ! 'tis fome fubtle Train, 
 To bring that noble Frame of yours to nought. 
 
 Phi. Thou think'fl, I will be angry with thee ; Come, 
 Thou fhalt know all my Drift ; I hate her more. 
 Than I love Happinefs ; and plac'd thee there. 
 To pry with narrow Eyes into her Deeds. 
 Haft thou difcover'd ? Is fhe fain t«o Luft, 
 As I would wifh her ? Speak fome Comfort to me. 
 
 Bel. My Lord, you did miff akc the Boy you fcnt : 
 Had fhe the Luft of Sparrows, or of Goats ; 
 Had fhe a Sin that way, hid from the World, 
 Beyond the Name of Luft, I would not aid 
 Her bafe Defires ; but what I came to know 
 As Sei-vant to her, 1 would not reveal, 
 To make my Life laft Ages. Phi. Oh, my Heart ! 
 This is a Salve worfe than the main Difcafe. 
 Tell me thy Thoughts ; for I will know the leaft 
 That dwells within thee, or will rip thy Heart 
 To know it -, I will fee thy Thoughts as plain 
 As I do now thy Face. Bel. Why, fo you do. 
 She is (for aught I know) by all the Gods, 
 
 As 
 
PHILASrER. 133 
 
 As cliafte as Ice ; but were fhe foul as Hell, 
 
 And I did know it, thus ; the Breath of Kings, 
 
 The Points of Swords, Tortures, nor Bulls of Brafs, 
 
 Should draw it from me. Phi. Then it is no time 
 
 To dally with thee -, 1 will take thy Life, 
 
 For 1 do hate thee -, I cou'd curfe thee now. V 
 
 Bel. If you do hate, you could not curfe me worfe ; 
 The Gods have not a Puniihment in Store 
 Greater for me, than is your Hate. Phi. Fie, fie! 
 So young and fo difiembling ! Tell me when 
 And where thou didft enjoy her, or let Plagues 
 Fall on me ftrait, if I defbroy thee not ! 
 
 Bel. Hcav'n knows, I never did : and when I lie 
 To favc my I ife, may I live long and loath'd ! 
 Hew me alijnder, and, whilfl I can think, 
 I'll love thofe Pieces you have cutaway. 
 Better than thofe that grow ; and kifs thofe Limbs, 
 Becaufe you made 'em fo 
 
 Phi. Fear'ft thou not Death.'* 
 Can Boys contemn that ? Bel. Oh, what Boy is he 
 Can be content to live to be a Man, 
 That fees the befl of Men thus palfionate. 
 Thus, without Reafon .^ 
 
 Phi. Oh, but thou doft not know 
 What 'tis to die. 
 
 Bel. Yes, I do know, my Lord ; 
 'Tis lefs than to be born j a lading Sleep, 
 A quiet Reding from all Jealoufy ; 
 A Thing we all purfue ; I know, befides. 
 It is but giving over of a Game 
 That mud be lod. 
 
 Phi. But there are Pains, falfe Boy, 
 For perjur'd Souls-, think but on thefe, and then 
 Thy Heart will melt, and thou wilt utter all. 
 
 Bel. May they fall all upon me whild I live. 
 If I be perjur'd, or have ever thought 
 Of that you charge me with ! If I be falfe. 
 Send me to fuffer in thofe Punifhments 
 You fpeak of; kill me. 
 
 Phi. Oh, what fhou'd I do ? 
 
 K 3 Why, 
 
134 PHILASTER. 
 
 Why, who can but beheve him ? He does fwear 
 
 So eameilly, that if it were not true, 
 
 The Gods would not endure him. Rife, Bellario ; 
 
 Thy Protellarions are fo deep, and thou 
 
 Doft look fo truly, when thou uttereft them. 
 
 That though I know 'em faife, as were my Hopes, 
 
 I cannot urge thee further -, but thou wert 
 
 To blame to injure me, for I muft love 
 
 Thy honeft Looks, and take no Vengeance on 
 
 Thy tender Youth : A Love from me to thee 
 
 Is firm whate'er thou dofl : It troubks me. 
 
 That I have call'd the Blood out of thy Cheeks, 
 
 That did fo well become thee : But, good Boy, 
 
 Let me not fee thee more ; Something is done. 
 
 That will diftraft me, that will make me mad. 
 
 If I behold thee j if thou tender'il me, 
 
 Let me not fee thee. Bel. i will fly as far 
 
 As there is Moming, e*er I give Dhlafte 
 
 To that moft honour'd Mind. But through thefe Tears, 
 
 Shed at my hopelcfs Parting, I can fee 
 
 A World of Treafon pradlis'd upon you. 
 
 And Her, and Me. Farewel, for evermore ! 
 
 If you fhall hear, that Sorrow flruck me dead. 
 
 And after find me loyal, let there be 
 
 A Tear fhed from you in my Memory, 
 
 And I fhall reft at Peace. [Exit Bel. 
 
 Phi. Blefling be with thee, 
 Whatever thou defcrv^'ft ! Oh, where fhall I 
 Go bathe this Body ^ Nature, too unkind. 
 That made no Medicine for a troubled Mind ! 
 
 [Exit Philafter, 
 
 Enter Arethufa. 
 
 Are. I marvel, my Boy comes not back again. 
 But that, I know, my Love will queftion him 
 Over and over ; how I fiept, wak'd, talk'd j 
 How 1 remembred him when his dear Name 
 Was laft fpoke, and how, when I figh'd, wept, fung. 
 And ten Thoufand fuch ; I fhould be angry at his Stay** 
 
 Enter 
 
PHILASrER. I3S 
 
 Enter King. 
 
 (3 1 ) King. What, at your Meditations ? Who attends ' 
 you ? 
 
 Are, None but my fmgle Self, I need no Guard ; 
 I do no Wrong, nor fear none. 
 
 King. Tell me ; Have you not a Boy ? Are. Yes, Sir. 
 
 King. What kind of Boy ? 
 
 Are. A Page, a waiting Boy. 
 
 King. A handfome Boy ? 
 
 Are. I think, he be not ugly : 
 Well qualified, and dutiful, 1 know him ; 
 I took him not for Beauty. 
 
 King. He (peaks, and fings, and plays ? 
 
 Are. Yes, Sir. King. About Eighteen ? 
 
 Are. I never ask'd his Age. King. Is he full of Semce? 
 
 Are. By your Pardon, why do you ask ? 
 
 King. Put him away. Are. Sir } 
 
 King. Put him away, ha's done you that good Service, 
 Shames me to fpeak of. 
 
 Are. Good Sir, let me underftand you. King. If you fear 
 Shew it in Duty ; put away that Boy. [me, 
 
 Are. Let me have Reafon for it. Sir, and then 
 Your Will is my Command. 
 
 King. Do not you blufh to ask it .'' Caft him off, 
 Or I fhall do the fame to you. You're one 
 Shame with me, and fo near unto myfelf. 
 That by my Life, I dare not tell myfelf. 
 What you, myfelf, have done. 
 
 Are. What have I done, my Lord .'' 
 
 King. *Tis a new Language, that all love to learn. 
 The common People fpeak it well already. 
 They need no Grammar ; underftand me well. 
 There be foul Whifpers ftirring ; caft him off; 
 And fuddenly do it: Farewel. {Exit King. 
 
 Are. Where may a Maiden live fecurely free. 
 Keeping her Honour fafe } Not with the Living, 
 They feed upon Opinions, Errors, Dreams, 
 
 (31) What are your Meditations?^ I have rcftor'd the Reading of 
 tlic elder i^arto^s here, becaufe I take ic to be the rightefl. 
 
 K 4 And 
 
136 PHILASTER. 
 
 And make 'em Truths : They draw a Nourifhment 
 Cut of Defamings, grow upon D!fQ:rrices, 
 And when they fee a A'irtue fortified 
 Strongly above the Battery of their Tongues ; 
 Oh, how they call to fink it •, and defeated 
 (Soul-fick with Poifon) ftrike the Monuments 
 "Vvhere noble Names he Ileeping-, till they fweat, 
 And the cold Marble melt. 
 
 Enter Philaller. 
 
 Thi. Peace to your faireft Thoughts, my deareft 
 Miftrefs ! 
 
 Are. Ch, my deareft Servant, I have a War within me. 
 
 Phi. He muft be more than Man, tha; makes thefe 
 Run into Rivers ; fweeteft Fair, the Caufe ; [Cryllals 
 And as I am your Slave, ty'd to your Goodnels, 
 Your Creature made again from what I was. 
 And newly fpirited, I'll right your Honours. 
 
 Are. Oh, mybeftLovej that Boy! Phi. What Boy? 
 
 Are. The pretty Boy you gave me,—— Phi. What of 
 
 Are. Muft be no more mine. P^/. Why ? [him? 
 
 Are. They are jealous of him. Phi. Jealous, who? 
 
 Are. The King. Phi. Oh, my Fortune ! 
 Then 'tis no idle Jealoufy, Let liim go. 
 
 Are. Oh cruel, 
 Are you hard-hearted too? Who ftiall now tell you. 
 How much I lov'd you? Who fliall fwear it to you. 
 And weep the Tears I fend ? Who ftiall now bring you 
 Letters, Rings, Bracelets, lofe his Health in Service ? 
 A\ ake tedious Nights in Stories of your Praife ? 
 W^ho now ftiall fing your crying Elegies ? 
 And ftrike a fad Soul into fcnfelefs Pi6lures, ^ 
 
 And make them mourn ? Who fi.all take up his Lute, 
 And touch it, till he crown a filent Sleep 
 Upon my Eyelid, making me dream and cry. 
 Oh my dear, dear Philafier. Phi. Oh my Heart ! 
 Would he had broken thee, that made thee know 
 This Lady was not Loyal ! Miftrefs, forget 
 The Boy, Fll get riiee a far better one. 
 
 Are. Oh never, never, fuch a Boy again. 
 
 As 
 
PHILASrER. 137 
 
 As my Bellario. 
 
 Phi. 'Tis but your fond Affedion. 
 
 Are. With thee, my Boy, farewel for ever 
 All Secrecy in Servants : Farewel Faith, 
 And all Defire to do well for itfelf : 
 Let all that fliall fuccced thee, for thy Wrongs, 
 Sell and betray chad Love ! 
 
 Phi. And all this Paflion for a Boy ? 
 
 Are. He was your Boy, you put him to me, and 
 The Lofs of fuch mufl have a Mourning for. 
 
 Phi. O thou forgetful Woman ! Are. How, my Lord ? 
 
 Phi. Falfe Arethufa! 
 Haft thou a Medicine to rcftore my Wits, 
 When I have loft 'em ? If not, leave to talk. 
 And to do thus. Are. Do what. Sir.'' Would you fleep? 
 
 Phi. For ever, Arethufa. Oh you Gods, 
 Give me a worthy Patience ; Have I ftood 
 Naked, alone, the Shock of many Fortunes ? 
 Have I fcen Mifchiefs numberlefs, and mighty, 
 Grow like a Sea upon me .'' Have I taken 
 Danger as ftern as Death into my Bofom, 
 And laugh d upon it, made it but a Mirth, 
 And flung it by ? Do I live now like him, 
 Under this Tyrant King, that languifhing 
 Hears his fad Bell, and fees his Mourners ? Do I 
 Bear all this bravely, and muft fink at length 
 Under a Woman's Falfhood ? Oh that Boy, 
 The curfed Boy ! None but a villain Boy, 
 To eafe your Luft } Are. Nay, then I am betray 'd, 
 I feel the Plot caft for my Overthrow ; 
 Oh, I am wretched. 
 
 Phi. Now you may take that little Right I have 
 To this poor Kingdom -, give it to your Joy, 
 For I have no Joy in it. Some far Place, 
 Where never Womankind durft fet her Foot, 
 For burfting with her Poifons, muft I feek. 
 And hve to curfe you : 
 
 There dig a Cave, and preach to Birds and Beafts, 
 What Woman is, and help to fave them from you. 
 1 low FIcav'n is in your Kyes, but, in your Hearts, 
 
 More 
 
138 PHJLASTE R. 
 
 More Hell than Hell has ; how your Tongues, like 
 
 Scorpions, 
 Both heal and poifon \ how your Thoughts are woven 
 "With thoufand Changes in one fubtle Web, 
 And worn fo by you. How that foolifh Man, 
 That reads the Story of a Woman's Face, 
 And dies believing it, is loft for ever. 
 How all the Good you have, is but a Shadow, 
 r th' Morning with you, and at Night behind you, 
 Paft and forgotten. How your Vows are Frofts, 
 P^ft for a Night, and with the next Sun gone. 
 How you are, being taken all together, 
 A meer Confufion, and fo dead a Chaos^ 
 That Love cannot diftinguifh. Thefe fad Texts, 
 Till my laft Hour, I am bound to utter of you. 
 So farewel all my Woe, all my Delight ! [Exit Phi. 
 
 Are. Be merciful, ye Gods, and ftrike me dead j 
 What way have I deferv'd this ? Make my Bread 
 Tranfparent as pure Cryftal, that the World, 
 Jealous of me, may fee the fouleft Thought 
 My Heart holds. Where fhall a Woman turn her Eyes, 
 (32) To find out Conftancy ? Save me, how black. 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 And guiltily, methinks, that Boy looks now? 
 
 Oh thou Diflembler, that, before thou fpak*lt, 
 
 Wert in thy Cradle falfe ! Sent to make Lyes, 
 
 And betray Innocents ; thy Lord and thou. 
 
 May glory in the Afhes of a Maid 
 
 Fool'd by her Paffion ; but the Conqueft is 
 
 Nothing fo great as wicked. Fly away. 
 
 Let my Command force thee to that, which Shame 
 
 Would do without it. If thou underftoodft 
 
 The loathed Office thou haft undergone. 
 
 Why, thou wouldft hide thee under heaps of Hills, 
 
 ^52) Save me, honu black 
 
 And guilty, methinks^ that Boy looks no'w?'] Nothing betrays 
 a Corruption fo evidtntly at the firft Glance, as a Lamenefs in the 
 Metre. The Epithet here muft necelTarily be turn'd into an Adverb^ 
 and that fupports the Verfification. 
 
 ^ Left 
 
PHILASTER. 139 
 
 Left Men flioiild dig and find thee. Bel. Oh what God, 
 Angry with Men, hath fent this ftrange Dileafe 
 Into the noblcfl Minds ? Madam, this Grief 
 You add unto me is no more than Drops 
 To Seas, for which they are not feen to fwell ; 
 My Lord hath llruck his Anger through my Heart, 
 And let out all the Hope of future Joys : 
 You need not bid me tiy, I came to part, 
 To take my lateft Leave ; Farewel for ever ! 
 I durft not run away in Honefly, 
 From fuch a Lady, like a Boy that ftole. 
 Or made fome grievous Fault •, the Pow'r of Gods 
 AfTift you in your Suff'rings! hafty Time 
 Reveal the Truth to your abufed Lord, 
 And mine ; that he may know your Worth ! Whilft I 
 Go feek out fome forgotten Place to die. [Exit Bel. 
 
 Jre. Peace guide thee, thou haft overthrown me once, 
 (:^3) Yet if I had another Troy to lofe. 
 Thou, or another Villain, with thy Looks, 
 Might talk me out of it, and fend me naked, 
 My Hair diihevel'd through the fiery Streets. 
 
 Enter a Lady. 
 
 Lady. Madam, the King would hunt, and calls for you 
 With Earneftneis. Are. I am in tune to hunt ! 
 Diana., if thou canft rage with a Maid, 
 As with a Man, let me difcover thee 
 Bathing, and turn me to a fearflil Hind, 
 That 1 may die purfu'd by cruel Hounds ; 
 And have my Story written in my Wounds. [Exeunt. 
 
 (33) ^''^ 'f ^ ^'"l anotherTroy to lofe, &c.] The Image feems 
 here plainly to be fliadow'd from the Picture of Hfcuha, drawn by 
 Shakespeare in his Hamlet, as running about the Streets of Troy 
 in the midft of the Flames. 
 
 But ivbo, oh, nuho had feen the mohled ^tieett. 
 Run hare-foot up and doivn, thrtatning thi Flames 
 With bijfon Rheum ; a Clout upon that Head 
 Where late the Diadem flood, *c. 
 
 ACT 
 
I40 PHIL^STER. 
 'ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter King, Pharamond, Arethiifa, Galatea, Mcgra, 
 Dion, Cleremont, Thrafiliiie, and Attendants. 
 
 King. \K7 HAT, are the Hounds before, and all the 
 
 ' ' W oodmen ? 
 
 Our Horfes ready, and our Bows bent ? 
 
 Dion. All, Sir. [gotten 
 
 King. You're cloudy, Sir; come, come, wc have for- 
 Your venial IVefpafs, let not that fit heavy 
 Upon your Spirit ; none dare utter it. 
 
 Dion. He looks like an old furfeited Stallion after his 
 Leaping, dull as a Dormoufc : See how he finks ; the 
 Wench has fhot him betwixt Wind and Water, and, I 
 hope, Iprung a Leak. 
 
 Thra. He needs no teaching, he ftrikes fure enough ; 
 his greateil Fault is, he hunts too much in the Purlues ; 
 'would, he would leave off Poaching ! 
 
 Dion. And for his Horn, h'as left it at the Lodge 
 where he lay late -, Oh, he's a precious Lime-hound ; turn 
 him loofe upon the Purfuit of a Lady, and if he lole 
 her, hang him up i' th' Slip. When my Fox-bitch Beauty 
 grows proud, Vi\ borrow him. 
 
 King. Is your Boy tnrn'd away? 
 
 Are. You aid command it. Sir, and I obey*d you. 
 
 King. 'Tis well done : Hark ye further. 
 
 Cle. Is't pofTible, this Fellow fhould repent ? Methinks, 
 that were not noble in him ; (34) and yet he looks like a 
 mortified Member, as if he had a fick Man's Slaver in*s 
 Mouth. If a worfe Man had done this Fault now, fome 
 Phyfical Juflice or other, would prefently (without the 
 help of an Almanack) have opened the Obftruftions of 
 his Liver, and let him blood with a Dog-whip. 
 
 Dion. See, fee, how modeflly yon Lady looks, as if 
 
 (34) And yet he looks lik^ a mortified Member^ as if he had a Jtck 
 Mans Sl.ive in his Mouth ] Wc mull, furely, read Slan.<er. Every 
 Body muft, I think, affent to thisi and therefore it needs no Note in 
 Confirmation. Mr. Seivard. 
 
 ihe 
 
PHILASTER. i4t 
 
 fhe came from Churcliing with her Neighbour; why, 
 what a Devil can a Man lee in her Face, but that fne's 
 hondl ? 
 
 (35) Thra. Troth, no great matter to fpeak of, a foolifK 
 twinkling with the Eye, that fpoils her Coat j but he 
 mull be a cunning Herald, that finds it. 
 
 Dion. See how they muller one another' O there's a 
 rank Regiment where the Devil carries the Colours, and 
 his Dam is Drum-major. Now the World and the Flefh 
 come behind with the Carriage. 
 
 Cle, Sure, this Lady has a good Turn done her againft 
 her Will : Before, fhe was common talk ; now none dare 
 fay, Cantharides can ftir her ; her Face looks like a War- 
 rant, willing and commanding all Tongues, as they will 
 anfwer it, to be tied up and bolted when this Lady means 
 to let herfclf loofe. As I live, fhe has got her a goodly 
 Protcdbion, and a gracious ; and may ufe her Body dif- 
 erectly, for her Health's fake, once a Week, excepting 
 Lent and Dog-days : Oh, if they were to be got for 
 Money, what a great Sum would come out of the City 
 for thefe Licences ? 
 
 King. To Horfe, to Horfe, we lofe the Morning, 
 Gendemen. [Exeunt, 
 
 Enter two Woodmen. 
 
 1 IVcod. What, have you lodg'd the Deer ? 
 
 2 JVood. Yes, they are ready for the Bow. 
 
 1 Wood. Who fhoots ? 
 
 2 IVcod. The Princefs. 
 
 1 IVood. No, fhe'll hunt. 
 
 2 IVood. She'll take a Stand, I fay. 
 
 1 IFood. Who elfe ? 
 
 2 IVood. Why, the young ftranger Prince. 
 
 {35) Pha. Troth, no great Matter to /peak of, &c.] How comes 
 Pharamond to interpofe in this Argument, and reply to what Dion, 
 Cleremont, and thofe whom he knew to be of ?h:lafler% Party, are 
 talking of, and that, under the Rofe, as we fay ? The Speech muft 
 certainly be placed to Thrafillne. Pha. and 7hra. (The Abbrevia- 
 tion of the Charaders fpcaking) might eallly be miftaken at Prefs. 
 
 I Wood. 
 
142 PHILASTER. 
 
 1 fVood. He fhall fhoot in a Stone-bow for me. (36) I 
 never lov'd his beyond-fea-fliip, fince he forfook the Say, 
 for paying Ten Shillings : He was there at the Fall of a 
 Deer, and would needs (out of his Mightinefs) give Ten 
 Groats for the Dowcets j {^y) marry, the Steward would 
 have had the Velvet-Head into the bargain, to tuft hij 
 H^t withal : I think, he fliould love Venery ; he is an 
 old Sir Trifirnm ; for if you be rememberM, (38) he for^ 
 fcok the Stag once to ftrike a Rafcal mitching in a Mea* 
 dow, and h^r he kill'd in the Eye. Who fhoots elfe ? 
 
 1 Wood. The Lady Galatea. 
 
 1 Wood. That's a good Wench, an fhe would not 
 chide us for tumbling of her Women in the Brakes. 
 She's liberal, and, by my Bow, they fay, flie's honeft ; 
 ^nd whether that be a Fault, I have nothing to do. 
 There's all ? 
 
 2 Wood No, one more, Megra. 
 
 I Wood. That's a firker, I' faith, Boy -, there's a Wench 
 will ride her Haunces as hard after a Kennel of Hounds, 
 as a Hunting-faddle -, and when flie comes home, get *em 
 clapt, and all is well again. I have known her lofe herfelf 
 three times in one Afternoon (if the Woods have been 
 anfwerable) and it has been Work enough for one Man 
 
 (36 I never lovd hh hcyond-fea-Jhip^ fince he forfook the Say, for 
 tayinoTen Shillingi {\ When a Deer is hunted down, and to be cut 
 up, it is a Ceremony for the Keeper to offer his Knife to a Man of 
 the firll Diftinftion in the Field, that he may rip up the Belly, and 
 take an AJfay of the Plight and Fatnefs of the Game. But this, 
 as the Woodman fays, Pharamond declined, to fave the cuftomary 
 Fee of Ten Shillings. 
 
 (37) marry, the Steiuard tx'ould have had the Velvet-Head into 
 the Bargain to turf his Hat ivitha/:'] What Confonancy is there be- 
 twixt Vel'uet and 7urf? The original Word muft certainly have been, 
 tuft; which correfponds with the foft Pile of the Velvet. Feloute, 
 tufted, as the French Dictionaries explain it to us. 
 
 (38) he forfooli the Stag once to jlrilie a Rafcal milking in a 
 Meadoiv, and her he kilV d in the Eye.} A Rafcal is a lean Deer, 
 or Doc ; But what Senfe ib the;-e in a Deer milking in a Meadow ? I 
 hope, I have retriev'd the true Reading, mitching ; i. e. creeping, foli- 
 tary, and withdrawn from the Herd. To kill her in the Eye is a 
 Sarcafm on Pharamond as a bad Shooter j for all good Ones levell 
 at the Heart. 
 
 to 
 
 I 
 
PHILASTER. T43 
 
 to find her, and he has fweat for it. She rides well, and 
 'ihs. pays well. Hark, let's go. [Exeunt, 
 
 Enter Philafter. 
 
 Phi. Oh, that I had been nourifli'd in thefe Woods 
 Witli Milk of Goats, and Acorns, and not known 
 The Right of Crowns, nor the diircmbling Trains 
 Of Womens' Looks ; but dig'd myfclf a Cave, 
 Where I, my Fire, my Cattel, and my Bed, 
 Might have been fhut together in one Shed ; 
 And then had taken me fome mountain Girl, 
 Beaten widi W^inds, chad as the harden'd Rocks 
 Whereon die dwells ; that might have ftrcw'd my Bed 
 With Leaves, and Reeds, and with the Skins of Beafts 
 Our Neighbours ; and have borne at her big Breafts 
 My large coarfe I flue: This had been a Life 
 Free from Vexation. 
 
 Ejiter Bellario, 
 
 (39) Bel. Oh wicked Men! 
 An Innocent may walk fafe among Beads, 
 Nothing aflaults me here. See, my griev'd Lord 
 Sits as his Soul were fearching out the way 
 To leave his Body. Pardon me, that muft 
 Break thro* thy laft Command ; for I muft Ipeak ; 
 You, that are griev*d, can pity ; hear, my Lord. 
 
 Phi. Is there a Creature yet fo miferable. 
 That I can pity.? Bel. Oh, my noble Lord, 
 View my ftrange Fortune, and beftow on me. 
 According to your Bounty (if my Service 
 Can merit nothing) fo much as may ferve 
 To keep that little Piece I hold of Life 
 From Cold and Hunger. Phi. Is it thou ^ Be gone : 
 tjo, fell thofe misbefecming Cloaths thou wear'ft, 
 
 C39) Oh nvicked Men f 
 
 An innocent Man may nualk fafe among Beafj,"] But Bella- 
 rtc, who fpeaks this, was no Man. It is a Fault of the modem Edi» 
 tions. Man is millakenly repeated, from Men occurring in the prece- 
 dent Line. I have regulated the Text by the Authority of the bell 
 Sparta's. 
 
 And 
 
14+ PHILASTER. 
 
 And feed thyfelf with them. 
 
 Bel Alas ! my Lord, I can get nothing for them ; 
 The filly Country People think, 'tis Trcafon 
 To touch fuch gay Things. 
 
 Phi. Now, by my Life, this is 
 Unkindly done, to vex mc with thy Sight, 
 Thou' rt fain again to thy dilTembling Trade: 
 Kow fhouldft thou think to cozen mc again ? 
 Remains there yet a Plague untry'd for me ? 
 (40) Even fo thou wept'ft, and look'd'ft, and Ipok'fl, 
 
 when firfl 
 I took thee up -, Curfe on the Time ! If thy 
 Commanding Tears can work on any other, 
 Ufe thy old Art, I'll not betray it. Which 
 Way wilt thou take, that I may fhun thee ; for 
 Thine Eyes are Poifon unto mine •, and I 
 Am loth to grow in Rage. This way, or that way ? 
 
 Bel. Any will ferve. But I will chufe to have 
 That Path in Chafe that leads unto my Grave. 
 
 [Exeunt Phil, and Bel. feverally. 
 
 Enter Dion and the Woodmen. 
 
 Dion. This is the flrangejR: fudden Chance! You, 
 Woodman, — - 
 
 I JVood. My Lord Dion, 
 
 (4.1) Dion. Saw you a Lady come this way on a fable 
 Horfe ftudded with Stars of white .'* 
 2 IVood. Was Ihe not young and tall ? 
 Dion. Yes ; Rode fhe to the Wood, or to the Plain? 
 2 fVood. Faith, my Lord, we faw none. 
 
 [ Exeunt Wood. 
 
 Enter Cleremont. 
 
 Dion. Pox of your Queftions then! What, is fhe 
 found ? 
 
 (40) E'v'nfothou tvepty, and/poky, cwhen Jlrjl"] This Verfe is de- 
 feftive in a whole Foot. I have hll'd up the Chafm by the Authority 
 of the old ^.arto in 1628. 
 
 (41) Saivjou a Lady come thistuaf on a fahle Horfe ftubbed nuith 
 Stars of 'white ?^ Stubbed, as I app'rehend, is Nonfenfe; Studded I 
 have rellored from the bell ^arto's. 
 
 Cle. 
 
PHILASrER. 145 
 
 Cle. Nor will be, I think. 
 
 Dion. Let him feek his Daughter himfelf; fhe cannot 
 ftray about a little neceflary natural Bufinefs, but the whole 
 Court muft be in Arms ; when fhe has done, we fhall 
 have Peace. 
 
 Cle. There's already a thoufand fatherlefs Tales amongft 
 US; fome fay, her Horfe run away with her; fome a Wolf 
 puifued her ; others, it was a Plot to kill her ; and that 
 armed Men were feen in the Wood : but, queftionlefs, Ihe 
 rode away willingly. 
 
 Enter King, and Thrafiline. 
 
 King. Where is flie.? Cle. Sir, I cannot tell. 
 
 King. How is that ? Anfwer me fo again. 
 
 Cle. Sir, fliaUIlye? 
 
 King. Yes, lye and damn, rather than tell me that ; 
 I fay again, where is Ihe ? Mutter not ; 
 Sir, fpeak you where is fhe ? Dion. Sir, I do not know. 
 
 King. Speak that again fo boldly, and, by Heav'n, 
 It is thy lafb. You Fellows, anfwer me ; 
 Where is fhe ? Mark me all, I am your King. 
 I wifli to fee my Daughter, fhew her me ; 
 I do command you all, as you are Subjedls, 
 To fhew her me : What, am I not your King } 
 (42) If, ay ; then am I not to be obeyed ? 
 
 Dion. Yes, if you command things pofllble and honeft,' 
 
 King. Things pofllble, and honeft ! Hear me, thou. 
 Thou Traitor, that dar'ft confine thy King to things 
 PofTible and honeft ; fliew her me, 
 Or let me perifh, if I cover not 
 All Sicily with Blood. 
 
 Dion. Indeed I cannot, unlefs you tell me where Ihe is. 
 
 King. You have betray'd me, y'have let me lole 
 The Jewel of my Life ; go, bring her me. 
 And fct her here before me ; 'tis the King 
 
 (42) If I, then am not I to be ohefd?'] The Repetition of the two 
 /'s, here, is very abfurd. Put, as I have remark'd in my Notes upon 
 Shakespbare, it was frequent, at that time of Day, to exprefs the 
 Particle Ay by the Vowel /. 
 
 Vol. L L WiU 
 
146 PHILASTER. 
 
 Will have it fo, whofe Breath can ftill the Winds, 
 Uncloud the Sun, charm down the fwelling Sea, 
 And ftop the Floods of Heav'n ; fpeak, can it not ? 
 
 Hion. No. King. No ! cannot the Breath of Kings 
 do this ? 
 
 'Dion. No -, nor fmell fweet itfelf, if once the Lungs 
 Be but corrupted. King. Is it fo.'' Take Heed. 
 
 Dion. Sir, take you Heed ; how you do dare the Pow*rs 
 That muft be jufl. King. Alas ! what are we Kings I 
 Why do you, Gods, place us above the reft ; 
 To be ferv'd, flatter'd, and ador'd, till we 
 Believe, we hold within our Hands your Thunder ; 
 And when we come to try the Pow'r we have, 
 There's not a Leaf fhakes at our Threatnings. 
 I have fin'd, 'tis true, and here ftand to be punilh'd ; 
 Yet would not thus be punilh'd j let me chufe 
 My way, and lay it on. 
 
 Dion. He articles with the Gods ; 'would, fome body 
 would draw Bonds, for the Performance of Covenants be- 
 twixt them ! 
 
 Enter Pharamond, Galatea, and Megra, 
 
 King. What, is fhe found } 
 
 Vha. No, we have ta'en her Horlc. 
 He gallop' d empty by : There is fome Treafbn ; 
 You, Galatea^ rode with her into the Wood ; why left 
 you her? 
 
 Gal. She did command me. 
 
 King. Command ! you Ihould not. 
 
 Gal. 'T would ill become my Fortunes and my Birth 
 To difobey the Daughter of my King. 
 
 King. You're all cunning to obey us for our Hurt, 
 But I will have her. Pha. If I have her not. 
 By this Hand, there fiiall be no more Sicily. 
 
 Dion. What, will he carry it to Spain in's Pocket ? 
 
 Fha. I will not leave one Man alive, but the King, 
 A Cook and a Tailor. (43) Dion. Yet you may do well 
 
 To 
 
 (43) Vet you may do nvell fo fpart your Lady's BedfellotM, and her 
 you fnay keep for « Sjiawner.] The Addition of a fingle Letter has 
 
 made 
 
PHILAStER, 147 
 
 To fpare your Lady-Bedfellow, and her 
 You may keep for a Spawner. 
 
 King. I fee, the Injuries I have done muft be reveng'd. 
 
 Dion. Sir, this is not the way to find her out. 
 
 King. Run all, difperfe your felves : tlic Man that 
 finds her, 
 Or (if flie be kill'd) the Traitor; I'll make him grer^t. 
 
 Dion. I know fome would give five thoufand Pounds 
 to find her. 
 
 Pha. Come, let us feek. 
 
 King. Each Man a fevcral Way, here I myfelf. 
 
 Dion. Come, Gentlemen, we here. 
 
 Cle. Lady, you muft go fearch too. 
 
 Meg. I had rather be fearch' d rnyfelf. \Ei(eiLnt omnes. 
 
 Enter Arethufa. 
 
 y^re. "Where am I now ? Feet, find me out a Way, 
 Without the Counfel of my troubled Head; 
 I'll follow you boldly about thefe Woods, 
 O'er Mountains, thorow Brambles, Pits, and Floods : 
 Heaven, I hope, will eafe me. I am fick. 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 Bel. Yonder's my Lady ; Heav'n knows, I want nothings 
 Becaufe I do not wifh to live, yet I 
 Will try her. Charity. O hear, you that have Plenty, 
 And from that flowing Store, drop fome on dry Ground ; lee. 
 The lively Red is gone to guard her Heart j 
 I fear, fhe faints. Madam, look up ; Ihe breathes not 5 
 Open once more thofe rofy Twins, and fend 
 
 made fad Nonfenfe of this. His Lady's Bedfellow can mean none 
 but Bellario; whom Dion, indeed, believ'd to be the Princefs's Gal- 
 lant, and therefore might fpeak tauntingly of both of them. But, as 
 he thought him a Man, how would he have him kept for a Spawner ? 
 It fliould be; 
 
 • TTou may do njuelt 
 
 To /pare your Lady Bedfellow, and her 
 
 T'ou may keep for a Spaiuner. 
 Mfaning, Mcgra. Mr. Seivard. 
 
 This Emendation is authoriz'd by the old ^arto in 1628, aud fevc- 
 ral others of the bcft S^arto'i 
 
 L 2 Unto 
 
148 PHILASTER. 
 
 Unto my Lord, your lateft Farewell ; Oh, fhe ftin : 
 How is it. Madam? Speak Comfort. 
 
 ylre. 'Tis not gently done, 
 To put me in a miferable Life, 
 And hold me there ; I pray thee, let me go, 
 I fhalJ do beft without thee ; I am well. 
 
 Enter Philafler. 
 
 Phi. I am to blame to be fo much in Rage, 
 I'll tell her cooly, when, and where, 1 heard 
 This killing Truth. I will be temperate 
 In fpeaking, and as juft in hearing it. 
 Oh monftrous ! Tempt me not, ye Gods ! good Gods, 
 Tempt not a frail Man ! what's he, that has a Heart, 
 But he mull eafe it here ? 
 
 Bel. My Lord, help the Princefs. 
 
 Are. I am well, forbear. 
 
 (44) Phi. Let me love Lightning, let me be embraced 
 And kifs'd by Scorpions, or adore the Eyes 
 Of Bafilisks, rather than truft the Tongues, 
 Of Hell-bred Women : Some good Gods look down. 
 And fhrink thefe Veins up j flick me here a Stone, 
 Lafling to Ages in the Memory 
 Of this damn'd A(5t. Hear me, y^u wicked Ones ; 
 You have put Hills of Fire into this Breaft, 
 Not to be quench' d with Tears \ for which may Guilt 
 Sit on your Bofoms ! at your Meals, and Beds, 
 Delpair await you ! What, before my Face ? 
 Poifon of Afps between your Lips ! Difeafes 
 Be your beft Iflbes ! Nature make a Curfe, 
 And throw it on you ! Are. Dear Philafter^ leave 
 To be enrag'd, and hear me. Phi. I have done j 
 
 (44) Let me love Lightning, let me be embraced 
 
 And kifs'd by Scorpions, or adore the Eyes 
 
 Of Bafilisks, rather than trujl to Tongues 
 
 Andfhrink thefe Veins up ;] But how would trufting to tonguei 
 fhi ink P^///?/?^r's Veins up? This is abfolute Nonfenfe ; and never 
 could have been remedied but by the Afllftance of the old ^tarto'i 
 which are worth their Weight in Gold, and from which I have 
 rcftored tJie Line funk by the Negligence of the more modern Editors. 
 
 Forgive 
 
PHILASTER. 149 
 
 Forgive my PafTion. Not the calmed Sea, 
 
 When yEolus locks up his windy Brood, 
 
 Is lefs difliirb'd than I ; I'll make you know it. 
 
 Dear Arethufa^ do but take this Sword, 
 
 And fearch how temperate a Heart I have; 
 
 Then you, and this your Boy, may live and reign 
 
 In Luft, \vithout Controul. Wilt thou, Bellario? 
 
 I prithee, kill me; thou art poor, and may'ft 
 
 Nourifh ambitious Thoughts, when I am dead : 
 
 This Way were freer; Am I raging now? 
 
 If I were mad, I fhould defire to live ; 
 
 Sirs, feel my Pulfe ; where ever have you known 
 
 A Man in a more equal Tune to die ? 
 
 Bel. Alas, my Lord, your Pulfe keeps Madman's time» 
 So does your Tongue. Phi. You will not kill me then ? 
 
 Are. Kill you ? Bel. Not for a World. 
 
 Phi. I blame not thee, 
 Bellario-, thou haft done but that, which Gods 
 Would have transform'd themfelves to do ; be gone. 
 Leave me without Reply ; this is the laft 
 Of all our Meeting. Kill me with this Sword ; 
 Be wife, or worfe will follow : we are Two 
 Earth cannot bear at once. Refolve to do, or fuffer. 
 
 Are. If my Fortunes be fo good to let me fall 
 Upon thy Hand, I fhall have Peace in Death. 
 Yet tell me this, will there be no Slanders, 
 No Jealoufies in the other World, no 111 there? 
 
 Phi. No. 
 
 Are. Shew me then the way. Phi. Then guide 
 My feeble Hand, you that have Pow'r to do it. 
 For I muft perform a piece of Juftice. If your Youth 
 Have any way offended Heav'n, let Pray'rs 
 Short and effedual reconcile you to it. 
 
 Are. I am prepar'd. 
 
 Enter a Country Fellow. 
 
 Com. I'll fee the King if he be in the Foreft, I have 
 hunted him thefe two Hours ; if I fliould come home and 
 not fee him, my Sifters would laugh at me; I can fee no- 
 tliing but Feo})le better hors'd than myfelf, that out- 
 
 L 3 ride 
 
f50 PHILASTER. 
 
 ride me ; I can hear nothing but Shouting. Thefe Kings 
 had need of good Brains, this Whooping is able to put 
 a mean Man out of his Wits. There's a Courtier with 
 his Sv/ord drawn; by this Hand, upon a Woman, I 
 think. 
 
 Phi. Are you at Peace .' 
 
 Are. With Heav'ns and Earth. 
 
 Phi. May they divide thy Sou] and Body ! 
 
 Coun. Hold, Daftard, ftrike a Woman! thou*rt a 
 a Craven, I warrant thee; (45) thou would'ft be loth to 
 play half a Dozen of Venies at Wallers with a good Fel- 
 low for a broken Head. 
 
 Phi. Leave us, good Friend. 
 
 Are. What ill-bred Man art thou, to intrude thyfelf 
 UDon our private Sports, our Recreations .'' 
 
 Coun. Gad 'uds me, I underftand you not; but, I 
 know, the Rogue has hurt you. 
 
 Phi. Purfue thy own Affairs : It will be ill 
 To multiply Blood upon my Head ; which thou wilt force 
 me to. 
 
 Coun. I know not your Rhetorick ; but I can lay it on, 
 if you touch the Woman. [T'hey fght. 
 
 Phi. Slave, take what thou deferv*ft. 
 
 Are. Heav'ns guard my Lord ! 
 
 Coun. Oh, do you breathe ? 
 
 Phi. I hear the Tread of People : I am hurt. 
 The Gods take part againft me, cou'd this Boor 
 Have held me thus elfe ? I mufl fhift for Life, 
 Though I do loath it. I would find a Courfe 
 To lofe it rather by my Will, than Force. [Exit Phi. 
 
 (45) Thou 'wouLi''Ji be loth to play half a Dozen of Venies at 
 Wafters] i. e. Cudgels. Mi n shew, in his Didlionary of Eleven 
 Languages, has given us a mofl ridiculous Reafon for the Etymology 
 of this Word : that Cudgels were call'd Wallers, becaufe, in frequent- 
 ly clafliing againft each other, they fplinter'd and nvafted. I'll ven- 
 ture to advance a more probable Conjefture. We find in our old Law- 
 Books, that the Statute of Weftminjler (5* Edvcnrdi tertii, cap. 14. ) 
 was made againft Night-'walkers, and fufpeBed Per/ons called Ro- 
 berdefmen, Waftours, and Draiv- latches. Th.t{e Wajiours, or Plun- 
 derers, derived their Name from the Latine Terme, Vnfiatores ; and 
 thence the mifchievous Weapons, or Bludgeons, with which they 
 went arm'd, were call'd Wajiers j i. e. Deftroyers. 
 
 Coun. 
 
PHILASrER. i5t 
 
 Coun. I cannot follow the Rogue. I pray thee, Wench, 
 come and kifs me now. 
 
 Enter Pharamond, Dion, Clcremont, Thrafiline, 
 a7^d Wocdmen. 
 
 Pha. What art thou ? 
 
 Coun. Almoft kill'd I am for a foolifh Woman ; a Knave 
 has hurt her. [Madam ? 
 
 Pha. The Princefs, Gendemen ! Where's the Wound, 
 Is it dangerous ? Are. He has not hurt me. 
 
 Coun. Pfaith, fhe lyes ; h'as hurt her in the Bread, 
 look elfe. 
 
 Pha. O facred Spring of innocent Blood ! 
 
 Dion. 'Tis above Wonder ! Who Ihould dare do this ^ 
 
 Are. I felt it not. 
 
 Pha. Speak, Villain, who has hurt the Princefs ? 
 
 Coun. Is it the Princefs ^. Dion. Ay. 
 
 Coun. Then I have feen Something yet. 
 
 Pha. But who has hurt her } ^ 
 
 Coun. I told you, a Rogue j I ne'er faw him be- 
 fore, I. 
 
 Pha. Madam, who did it .'' 
 
 Are. Some difhoneft Wretch •, 
 Alas ! I know him not, and do forgive him. 
 
 Coun. He's hurt too, he cannot go far; I made my Fa- 
 ther's old Fox fly about his Ears. 
 
 Pha. How will you have me kill him ? 
 
 Are. Not at all, 
 'Tis fome diftradted Fellow. Pha. By this Hand, 
 I'll leave ne*er a Piece of him bigger than a Nut, 
 And bring him all in my Hat to you. 
 
 Are. Nay, good Sir ; 
 If you do take him, bring him quick to me. 
 And I will ftudy for a Punifhment, 
 Great as his Fault. Pha. I will. Are. But fwear. 
 
 Pha. By all my Love, 1 will: Woodmen, condud 
 the Princefs to the King, and bear that wounded Fel- 
 low to DrelTing : Come, Gendemen, we'll follow the 
 Chafe clofc. 
 
 [£x. Are. Pha. Dion, Cle. Thra. and i Woodman. 
 L 4 Coun, 
 
152 PHILASTER. 
 
 Coun. I pray you, Friend, let me fee the King: 
 2 Wood. That you fhall, and receive Thanks. 
 
 [ Exeunt. 
 Coun. If I get clear of this, I'll go fee no more gay 
 Sights. 
 
 Enter Bellario. 
 
 Bel. A Heavinefs near Death fits on my Brow, 
 And I muft fleep : Bear me, thou gentle Bank, 
 For ever, if thou wilt : You fweet Ones all. 
 Let me unworthy prefs you : I cou'd wilh, 
 I rather were a Corfe flrew'd o'er with you. 
 Than quick above you. Dulnefs fhuts mine Eyes, 
 And I am giddy. Oh ! that I could take 
 So found a Sleep, that I might never wake. 
 
 Enter Philafter. 
 
 Phi. I have done ill, my Confcience calls me falfe. 
 To ftrike at her, that would not ftrike at me. 
 "When I did fight, methought, I heard her pray 
 The Gods to guard me. She may be abus'd. 
 And I a loathed Villain : If fhe be. 
 She will conceal who hurt her ; He has Wounds, 
 And cannot follow, neither knows he me. 
 Who's this ? Bellario fleeping ? If thou beefl: 
 Guilty, there is no Juftice that thy Sleep [Cry within. 
 Should be fo found ; and mine, whom thou haft wrong'd. 
 So broken. Hark ! I am purfued. You Gods, 
 I'll take this offer'd Means of my Efcape : 
 They have no Mark to know me, but my Wounds, 
 If Ihe be true-, if falfe, let Mifchief light 
 On all the World at once! Sword, print my Wounds, 
 Upon this fleeping Boy : I ha' none, I think. 
 Are mortal, nor would I lay greater on thee. [JVounds him. 
 
 Bel. Oh ! Death, I hope, is come ; bleft be the Hand ! 
 It meant me well ; again, for Pity's fake. 
 
 Phi. I have caught myfelf, [Phi. falls. 
 
 The Lofs of Blood hath flayed my Flight. Here, here. 
 Is he that ftruck thee : Take thy full Revenge, 
 U^ me, as I did mean thee, worfc than Death : 
 
 ru 
 
PHILASrER. rs3 
 
 I'll teach thee to revenge : This lucklefs Hand 
 Wounded the Princefs ; (46) tell my Followers, 
 Thou did ft receive thefe Hurts in ftaying me. 
 And I will fecond thee : Get a Reward. 
 
 Bel. Fly, fly, my Lord, and fave yourfelf. 
 
 Phi. How's this ? ■ 
 
 "Wouldit thou, I fhould be fafe ? Bel. Elfe it were vain 
 For me to hve. Thefe little Wounds, I have, 
 Ha' not bled much, reach me that noble Hand, 
 I'll help to cover you. Phi. Art thou true to me ? 
 
 Bel. Or let me perifh loath'd ! Come, my good Lord, 
 Creep in amongft thole Bulhes : Who does know. 
 But that the Gods may fave your much-lov'd Breath ? 
 
 Phi. Then 1 fliall die for Grief, if not for this. 
 That I have wounded thee : What wilt thou do ? 
 
 Bel. Shift for myfelf well : Peace ! I hear 'em come. 
 
 Within. Follow, follow, follow -, that way they went. 
 
 Bel. With my own Wounds I'll bloody my own Sword. 
 I need not counterfeit to fall ; Heav'n knows. 
 That 1 can ftand no longer. 
 
 Enter Pharamond, Dion, Cleremont and Thrafiline. 
 
 Pha. To this Place we have track'd him by his Blood. 
 
 Ck. Yonder, my Lord, creeps one away. 
 
 Dion. Stay, Sir, what are you ^ 
 
 Bel. A wretched Creature wounded in thefe Woods 
 By Beafts -, relieve me, if your Names be Men, 
 Or I Ihall perifh. Dion. This is he, my Lord, 
 Upon my Soul, that hurt her ; 'tis the Boy, 
 That wicked Boy that ferv'd her. 
 
 Pha. O thou damn'd 
 In thy Creation ! What Caufe could'ft thou Ihapc 
 To hurt the Princefs ? Bel. Then I am betray'd. 
 
 Dion. Betray'd ! no, apprehended. Bel. I confefs ; 
 Urge it no more, that, big with evil Thoughts, 
 
 (46) — — — tel/ my Followers] We are not to under- 
 
 ftand this Word here for his Retinue, his Fsiends, or thofc that fol- 
 low'd him as Servants j but his Purfuers. 
 
 Ifet 
 
154 PHILASTER. 
 
 I fet upon her, and did make my Aim 
 
 Her Death. For Charity, let fall at once 
 
 The Punifhment you mean, and do not load 
 
 This weary Flefh with Tortures, Pha. I will know. 
 
 Who hir'd thee to this Deed. Bel. Mine own Revenge. 
 
 Pha. Revenge, for what ? 
 
 Bel. It pleas'd her to receive 
 Me as her Page, and, when my Fortunes ebb'd, 
 (47) That Men ftrid o'er them carelefs, fhe did fhower 
 Her welcome Graces on me, and did fwell 
 My Fortunes, 'till they overflow'd their Banks, 
 Threatning the Men that croft 'em -, when, as fwift 
 As Storms arife at Sea, fhe tum'd her Eyes 
 To burning Suns upon me, and did dry 
 The Streams fhe had beflow'd ; leaving me worfe. 
 And more contemn'd than other little Brooks, 
 Becaufe I had been great : In fhort, I knew 
 I could not live, and therefore did defire 
 To die reveng'd. Pha. If Tortures can be found. 
 Long as thy natural Life, refolve to feel 
 The utmoft Rigour. [Philafter creep out of a BuJJj, 
 
 Cle. Help to lead him hence. 
 
 Phi. Turn back, you Ravifhers of Innocence, 
 Know ye the Price of that you bear away 
 So rudely .? 
 
 Pha. Who's that? Dion. 'T\%xht 'Lord. Philafter. 
 
 Phi. 'Tis not the Treafure of all Kings in one. 
 The Wealth of Tagus^ nor the Rocks of Pearl 
 That pave the Court of Neptune^ can weigh down 
 That Virtue. It was I, that hurt the Princefs. 
 Place me, fome God, upon a Piramis, 
 Higher than Hills of Earth, and lend a Voice 
 Loud as your Thunder to me, that from thence 
 I may difcourfe to all the Under- world 
 The Worth that dwells in him. Pha. How's this ? 
 
 (47) Ihat Men Jirid o\r them c^xtXe^y, Jht did fi>ov}r\ The old 
 ^arto in 1628, to the Improvement of the Metre, has it, carelefs: 
 by the Authority of which I have reform'd the Text. 
 
 Bel. 
 
PHILASTER. ,55 
 
 Bel. My Lord, fome Man 
 Weary of Life, that would be glad to die. 
 
 Phi. Leave thefe untimely Ccurtefies, Bellar'to. 
 
 Bel. Alas! he's mad; come, will you lead me on? 
 
 Phi. By all the Oaths that Men ought moft to keep. 
 And Gods do punifli moft, when Men do break. 
 He touch'd her not. Take heed, Bellario^ 
 How thou doft drown the Virtues, diou haft Ihown, 
 "With Perjury. By all that's good, 't^vas I : 
 You know, fhe ftood betwixt me and my Right. 
 
 Pha. Thy own Tongue be thy Judge. 
 
 Cle. It was Philajler. Dion. Is't not a brave Boy? 
 Well, Sirs, I fear me, we are all deceiv'd. 
 
 Phi. Have I no Friend here ? Dion. Yes. 
 
 Phi, Then ftiew it ; fome 
 Good Body lend a Hand to draw us nearer. 
 Would you have Tears ftied for y6u when you die ? 
 Then lay me gently on his Neck, that there 
 I may weep Floods, and breathe out my Spirit : 
 'Tis not the Wealth of Plutus, nor the Gold 
 Lock'd in the Heart of Earth can b*uy away 
 This Arm-full from me ; this had been a Ranfom 
 To have rcdecm'd the great Augujlus C^efar, 
 Had he been taken : You hard-hearted Men, 
 More ftony than thefe Mountains, can you fee 
 Such clear pure Blood drop, and not cut your Flefli 
 (48) To ftop his Life ? To bind whofe bitter Wounds, 
 Queens ought to tear their Hair, and with their Tears, 
 Bath 'em. Forgive me, thou that art the Wealth 
 Of poor Philafter, 
 
 Enter King, Arcthufa, and a Guard. 
 
 King. Is the Villain ta'en ? 
 
 Pha. Sir, here be two confefs the Deed ; but fay it was 
 Philafier. 
 
 Phi. Queftion it no more, it was. 
 
 {48) ' To hind iKihofe better Wounds 
 
 ^lecns ought to tear their Hair,"] Better than what ? than the 
 Hair of (^ccns? But, hereagain, the old ^artooi 1628 comes in 
 to our Aflilbnce, and refcues the Text fjom this Nenfenfe. 
 
 King. 
 
156 PHILASTER. 
 
 King. The Fellow, that did fight witJi him, •v^dll tell us. 
 
 Are. Ay me! I know, he will. 
 
 King. Did not you know liim ? 
 
 Are. No, Sir -, if it was he, he was difguifed. 
 
 Phi. I was fo. Oh my Stars ! tliat I Ihould live ftill. 
 
 King. Thou ambitious P ool ! 
 Thou, that haft laid a Train for thy own Life ; 
 Now I do mean to do, I'll leave to talk. 
 Bear him to Prilbn. 
 
 Are. Sir, they did plot together to take hence 
 This harmlcfs Life ; Ihould it pafs unreveng'd, 
 I fhould to Earth go weeping : Grant me then 
 (By all the Love a Father bears his Child) 
 Their Cuftodies, and that I may appoint 
 Their Tortures, and their Death. 
 
 Dion. Death ? foft ! our Law 
 Will not reach that, for this Fault. 
 
 King. 'Tis granted, take 'cm to you, with a Guard. 
 Come, Princely Pbaramond^ this Bufinefs paft, 
 We may with more Security go on 
 To your intended Match. 
 
 Cle. I pray, that this Adlion lofe not Philafter the Hearts 
 of the People. 
 
 Dion. Fear it not, their over wife Heads will think it 
 but a Trick. [ExeunL 
 
 ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 EMler Dion, Cleremont and Thrafiline. 
 'Tbra. TT A S the King fent for him to Death ? 
 
 '& 
 
 Dion. Yes, but the King muft know, *tis not 
 in his Pow'r to war with Heav'n. 
 
 Ck. We linger Time -, the King fent for Philafter and 
 
 the Headfman an Hour ago. 
 
 Thra. Are all his Wounds well .? 
 Dion. All, they were but Scratches ; but the Lofs of 
 Blood made him faint. Cle. We dally, Gentlemen. 
 
 fhra. 
 
PHILASrER. 157 
 
 Thra. Away. 
 
 Dion. We'll Icuffle hard before he perifli. [Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Philailer, Arethufa and Bellario. 
 
 Are. Nay, dear Philafter, grieve not ; we are well. 
 
 Bel. Nay, good my Lord, forbear ; we are wondrous 
 well. 
 
 Phi. Oh Arethufa ! O Bellario ! leave to be kind : 
 I Ihall be fhot from Heav'n, as now from Earth, 
 If you continue fo ; I am a Man, 
 Falfe to a Pair of the moft truity ones 
 That ever Earth bore ; can it bear us all ? 
 Forgive and leave me, but the King hath fcnt 
 To call me to my Death, Oh iliew it me. 
 And then forget me : And for thee, my Boy, 
 I ihall deliver Words will moHify 
 The Hearts of Beads, to fpare thy Innocence. 
 
 Bel. Alas, my Lord, my Life is not a thing 
 Worthy your noble Thoughts -, 'tis not a Life, 
 'Tis but a Piece of Childliood thrown away : 
 Should I out-live you, I fhould then out-live 
 Virtue and Honour : and, when that Day comes. 
 If ever I fhall clofe thefe Eyes but once. 
 May I live fpotted for my Perjury, 
 And wafte my Limbs to nothing ! 
 
 Are. And I (the woful'fl Maid that ever was, 
 Forc'd with my Hands to bring my Lord to Death) 
 Do by the Honour of a Virgin fwear. 
 To tell no Hours beyond it. 
 
 Phi. Make me not hated fo. 
 
 Are. Come from this Prifon, all joyful to our Deaths. 
 
 Phi. People will tear me, when they find you true 
 To fuch a Wretch as I ; I fhall die loath'd. 
 Injoy your Kingdoms peaceably, whilft I 
 For ever fleep forgotten with my Faults : 
 Ev'iy juft Servant, ev'ry Maid in Love, 
 Will have a Piece of me, if you be true. 
 
 Are. My dear Lord, fay not fo. Bel. A Piece of you? 
 He was not born of Women that can cur 
 It and look on. Phi. Take me in Tears betwixt you. 
 
 For 
 
is8 PHILASrER. 
 
 For my Heart will break with Shame and Sorrow. 
 
 Are. Why, 'tis well. [done 
 
 Bel. Lament no more. Phi. What would you have 
 If you had wrongM me bafely, and had found 
 My Life no Price, compar'd to yours ? For Love, Sirs, 
 Deal with me plainly. 
 
 Bel. 'Twas miftaken. Sir. Thi. Why, if it were.^ 
 
 Bel. Then Sir, we would have ask'd you Pardon. 
 
 Phi. A nd have hope to enjoy it .'' Are. Enjoy it ^ ay. 
 
 Phi. \\'ould you, indeed.'' be plain. 
 
 Bel. We would, my Lord. 
 
 Phi. Forgive me then. Are. So, fo. 
 
 Bel. ' Pis as it fhould be now. 
 
 Phi. Lead to my Death. \^Eseunt. 
 
 Enter King, Dion, Cleremont, and Thrafiline. 
 
 King. Gentlemen, who faw the Prince ^ 
 
 Cle. So pleafe you. Sir, he's gone to fee the City, 
 And the new Platform, with fome Gentlemen 
 Attending on him. King. Is the Princefs ready 
 To bring her Prifoner out .'* 1'hra. She waits your Grace. 
 
 Ki}ig. Tell her, we ftay. 
 
 Dion. King, you may be deceived yet : 
 The Head, you aim at, coft more fetting on 
 Than to be loft fo lightly : If it muft off. 
 Like a wild Overflow, that fwoops before him 
 A Golden Stack, and with it fhakes down Bridges, 
 Cracks the ftrong Hearts of Pines, whofe Cable Roots 
 Held out a Thoufand Storms, a Thoufand Thunders, 
 And, fo made mightier, takes whole Villages 
 Upon his Back, and in that Heat of Pride, 
 Charges ftrong Towns, Tow'rs, Caftles, Palaces, 
 And Lays them defolate ; fo ftiall thy Flead, 
 Thy Noble Head, bury the Lives of Thoufands, 
 That muft bleed with thee lilce a Sacrifice, 
 In thy red Ruins. 
 
 Enter Philafter, Arethufa, and Bellario in a Robf 
 and Garland. 
 
 King. How now, what Mafque is this ? 
 
 Bel. 
 
PHILASTER. 159 
 
 M. Right Royal Sir, I fhould 
 Sing you an Epithalamium of thefe Lovers, 
 But having loft my bcft Airs with my Fortunes, 
 And wanting a Celcftial Harp to ftrike 
 This blefied Union on, thus in glad Story 
 I give you all. Thefe two fair Cedar-branches, 
 The nobleft of the Mountain, where they grew, 
 Straiteft and talleft, under v/hofe ftill Shades 
 The worthier Beafts have made their Layers, and flept 
 Free from the Sir tan Star, and tlie fell Thunder-ftroke, 
 Free from the Clouds, when they were big with Humour, 
 And delivered in Thoufand Spouts, their I flues to the 
 O ! there was none but filent Quiet there ! [Earth : 
 
 'Till never-pleafed Fortune Ihot up Shrubs, 
 Bale Under-Brambles, to divorce thefe Branches ; 
 And for a while they did fo •, and did reign 
 Over the Mountain, and choak'd up his Beauty 
 With Brakes, rude Thorns and ThilUes, 'till the Sun 
 Scorch'd them ©v'n to the Roots, and dry'd them there: 
 And now a gentle Gale hath blown again. 
 That made thefe Branches meet, and twine together. 
 Never to be divided : The God, that fings 
 His holy Numbers over Marriage-Beds, 
 Hath knit their noble Hearts, and here they ftand 
 Your Children, mighty King -, and I have done. 
 
 King, How, how? 
 
 Are. Sir, if you love it in plain Truth, 
 For now there is no Mafquing in't ; This Gentleman, 
 The Prifoner, that you gave me, is become 
 My Keeper, and through all the bitter Throes 
 Your Jealoufies and his ill Fate have wrought him. 
 Thus nobly hath he ftruggled, and at length 
 Arriv'd here my dear Husband. 
 
 King. Your dear Husband ! Call in 
 The Captain of the Citadel ; there you fhall keep 
 Your Wedding. I'll provide a Malque fliall make 
 Your Hymen turn his Saffron into a fallen Coat, 
 And fing fad Requiems to your parting Souls : 
 Blood jfliall put out your Torches, and, inftead 
 Of gaudy Flow'rs about your wanton Necks, 
 
 An 
 
i6o PHILASTER. 
 
 An Ax fhall hang like a prodigious Meteor, 
 
 Ready to crop your Loves' Sweets. Hear, you Gods: 
 
 From this Time do I Ihake all Title off 
 
 Of Father to this Woman, this bafe Woman ; 
 
 And what there is of Vengeance, in a Lion 
 
 Caft amongft Dogs, or robb'd of his dear Young, 
 
 The fame inforc'd more Terrible, more Mighty, 
 
 Expedt from me. Are. Sir. 
 
 By that little Life I have left to fwear by, 
 
 There's nothing that can ftir me from myfelf 
 
 What I have done, I've done without Repentance ; 
 
 For Death can be no Bugbear unto me. 
 
 So long as Pharamond is not my Headfman. 
 
 Dion. Sweet Peace upon thy Soul, thou worthy Maid, 
 "W^hene'er thou dieft ! For this time I'll excufe thee. 
 Or be thy Prologue. 
 
 Phi. Sir, let me fpeak next ; 
 And let my dying Words be better with you 
 Than my dull living Aftions ; If you aim 
 At the dear Life of this fweet Innocent, 
 You are a Tyrant and a favage Monftcr ; 
 Your Memory fhall be as foul behind you, 
 
 (49) As you are, living ; all your better Deeds 
 Shall be in Water writ, but this in Marble : 
 
 No Chronicle fhall fpeak you, though your own, 
 
 (50) But for the Shame of Men. No Monument 
 
 (Though 
 
 (49) ' all your better Deeds 
 
 Shall be in Water nvrit, but this in Marble :] This Sentiment 
 feems to have been fhadow'd out from Shakespeare in his King 
 Henry the Eighth. 
 
 Mens evil Manners live in Brafs, their Virtues 
 
 We nvrite in Water.] 
 Tho' perhaps, our feveral Poets might have had Catullus for their 
 Original. 
 
 In 'vento iS rapida fcribere oportet aqua. 
 (50) ■ "No Monument 
 
 [Thd' high and big as Pelion) ^V.] -Some of the old Porto's 
 ridiculoufly have it Pelican; (as, I remember, fome of the old Edi- 
 tions of Shakespeare read Politician inftead of Pelican.) The true 
 Reading, undoubtedly, is Pelion, a Mountain very amply celebrated 
 by the Claflicks'; and mentioned by our own choifeft Claflick in his 
 Hamlet. 
 
 New 
 
PHILASTER. i6i 
 
 (Though high, and big, as Pelion) fhaU be able 
 
 To cover this bafc r. lurder ; make it rich 
 
 With Brafs, with pu;vit Gold, and ihining Jafper, 
 
 Like to the Pyramids ; lay on Kpitaphs, 
 
 Such as make great Tvlen Gods -, my little Marble 
 
 (That only cloaths my Afhcs, not my Fauks) . 
 
 Shall far out-lhine it. And, for after liTues, 
 
 Think not fo madly of the heav'niy Wildoms, 
 
 That they will give you more for your mad Rage 
 
 To cut off, 'lefs it be fom^e Snake, or fomething 
 
 Like to yourfelf, that in his Birth fhall ftrangle you. 
 
 Remember my Father, King •, tliere was a Fault, 
 
 But I forgive it : Let that Sin perfuade you 
 
 To love this Lady. If you have a Soul, 
 
 Think, fave her, and be faved ; for myfelf, 
 
 I have fo long expected this glad Hour, 
 
 So languifh'd under you, and daily withered. 
 
 That, Heaven knows, it is my Joy to die j 
 
 I find a Recreation in't. 
 
 Enter a MeiTenger. 
 
 Mef. Where's the King ? King. Here. 
 
 Mef. Get you to your Strength, 
 And relcue the Prince Pharamond from Danger ; 
 He's taken Prifoner by the Citizens, 
 Fearing the Lor.! Philafter. Dion. Oh brave Followers! 
 Mutiny, my fine clv^ar Countrymen, mutiny ! 
 Now, my brave valiant Foremen, Ihev/ your Weapons 
 In Honour of your MiftrefTes. 
 
 Enter another Meflenger. 
 
 Mef. Arm, arm, arm. 
 King. A Thoufand Devils take 'em ! 
 Eiion. A Thoufanc". Bleffings on 'em ! 
 MeJ. Arm, arm, O King, the City is In Mutiny :, 
 Led by an old grey Ruffian, who comes on 
 
 }^oiv pilt' your Dujl upon the quick and dead. 
 Till of this Flat a Mountain you harje made 
 7' o'er top old Pelion, or the Skyijh Head 
 Of blue Olympus. 
 
 Vol. I. M In 
 
i62 PHILASTER. 
 
 In Refcue of the Lord Philajler. 
 
 [Exit ivith Are. Phi. Bel. 
 
 King. Away to th* Citadel ; I'll fee them fafe. 
 And then cope with thefe Burgers : Let the Guard 
 And all the Gentlemen give ftrong Attendance. [Exit King. 
 [Manent Dion, Cleremont, Thrafiline. 
 
 Cle. The City up ! This was above our Wifhes. 
 
 Dion. Ay, and the Marriage too -, now, by my Life, 
 This noble Lady has deceiv'd us all. A Plague upon my 
 felf J a Thoufand Plagues, for having fuch unworthy 
 Thoughts of her dear Honour ! O I could beat myfelf, 
 or do you beat me and I'll beat you, for we had all one 
 Thought. 
 
 Cle. No, no, 'twill but lofe Time. 
 
 Dion. You fay true, are your Swords fharp? Well, my 
 dear Countrymen, what ye lack, — If you continue andfall 
 not back upon the firft broken Shin, (51) I'll have you 
 chronicled, and chronicled, and cut and chronicled, and 
 fung in all-to-be-prais'd Sonnets, and grav'd in new brave 
 Ballads, that all Tongues ihall troule you in Sacula S^- 
 culorum., my kind Can-carriers. 
 
 thra. What if a Toy take *em i' th' Heels now, and 
 they run all away, (52) and cry, the Devil take the hind- 
 moji? 
 
 Dion. Then the fame Devil take the foremofl too, and 
 fowce him for his Breakfaft ! If they all prove Cowards, 
 my Curfes fly amongft them and be fpeeding ! May they 
 have Murrains reign to keep the Gentlemen at home, 
 unbound in eafy Freeze ! May the Moths branch their 
 Velvets, and their Silks only be worn before fore Eyes ! 
 
 (51) /'// ha've you chronicled, and chronicled, and cut and chro' 
 nicled, and all- to- be prais'd, and fung in Sonnets, and bath'd in neiv 
 brave Ballads, that all Tongues Jhall trouble you in Saecula Saecu- 
 lorum, my kind Can-carriers ] I thought this for a long Time to be 
 fuch defperate Nonfenfe, that the Meaning of the Poets would be quite 
 irretrievable, as no one of the Editions give the leall Glimpfe of Light 
 or Aflillance. But (Thanks to plodding Indullry !) I hope, I have 
 found the certain Cure. 
 
 (52) and cry, the Devil take the Hindmoft?] Occupet extremum 
 Scabies, fays Horace: To which Execration, no Doubt, our Au- 
 t^r's had an Eye. 
 
 May 
 
PHILASrER. 163 
 
 May their falfe Lights undo 'em, and difcover Prefles, 
 Holes, Stains, and Oldnefs in their Stuffs, and make them 
 Shop-rid ! May they keep Whores and Horfes, and break ; 
 and live mewed up with Necks of Beef and Turnips! May 
 they have many Children, and none like the Father! 
 May they know no Language but that Gibberifh they 
 prattle to their Parcels; {c^^) unlefs it be the Gothkk La- 
 tinc they write in their Bonds, and may they write that 
 falfe, and lofe their Debts! 
 
 Enter the King. 
 
 King, Now the Vengeance of all the Gods confound 
 them ; how they fwarm together ! What a Plum they raife ? 
 Devils choak your wild I'hroats -, if a Man had need to 
 ufe their Valours, he mud pay a Brokage for it, and then 
 bring 'em on, they will fight like Sheep. 'Tis Philajier, 
 none but Philajler, muft allay this Heat : They will not 
 hear me fpeak, but fling Dirt at me, and call me Tyrant. 
 Oh run, dear Friend, and bring the Lord Philafter •, fpeak 
 him fair, call him Prince, do him all the Courtefy you 
 can, commend me to him. Oh my Wits, my Wits ! 
 
 [Exit Cle. 
 
 Dion. Oh my brave Countrymen ! as I live, I will not 
 buy a Pin out of your Walls for this ; Nay, you Ihall 
 cozen me, and Pll thank you -, and fend you Brawn and 
 Bacon, and foil you every long Vacation a Brace of 
 Foremen, that at Michaelmas Ihall come up fat and 
 kicking. 
 
 King. What they will do with tliis poor Prince, the 
 Gods know, and I fear. 
 
 (53) Unlefs it be the goarifh Latins'] Thus the Fo/io Edition in 
 1679; but there is no fuch Word in EngUJh, and, conleqaently, it is 
 Itark Nonfenfe. The ^arto of i6iS ha; \x.,goatiJh; but there is 
 riothing wanton, or lafciv^Jus, in a Bond ; therefore, this R:r.ding is 
 as unmeaning as the other. I dare warrant, that I have retriev'd 
 the Authors' genuine Text, in the Word Gothic/:; i. e. barbarous : 
 No greater Barbarifms than in Lavj-Latine. So, in Wit ^without 
 Money, 
 
 No mere Scnfc fpokev, alt things Goth and Vandal.] 
 
 M 2 Dml 
 
i64 PHILASrER. 
 
 Dion. Why, Sir, They'll flea him, and make Church- 
 Buckets on's Skin to quench Rebellion, then clap a River 
 ill's Sconce, and hang him up for a Sign. 
 
 E7iier Cleremont vjith Philafter. 
 
 King. O worthy Sir, forgive me ; do not make 
 Your Miferics and my Faults meet together, 
 To bring a greater Danger. Be yourfelf. 
 Still found amongft Difeafcs. I have wrong'd you, 
 And though 1 find it laft, and beaten to it, 
 Let firft your Gocdnefs know it. Calm the People, 
 And be what you were born to : Take your Love, 
 And with' her my Repentance, and my Wiflies, 
 And all my Pray'rs •, by th' Gods, my PIcart fpeaks this r 
 And if the leaft fall from me not peiform'd. 
 May I be flruck with Thunder ! 
 
 Phi. Mighty Sir, 
 I will not do your Greatnefs fo much Wrong, 
 As not to make your Word Truth -, free the Princefs, 
 And the poor Boy, and let me ftand the Shock 
 Of this mad Sea-breach, which Pll either turn 
 Or periih with it. King. Let your own Word free them. 
 
 Phi. Tiien thus I take my Leave, kifling your Hand, 
 And hanging on your Royal Word : Be kingly. 
 And be not mov'd, Sir ; I fhall bring you Peace, 
 Or never bring myfelf back. 
 
 King. All the Gods go with thee ! [Exeunt. 
 
 Enter an old Captain and Citizens with Pharamond. 
 
 Cap. Come, my brave Myrmidons, let us fall on. 
 Let our Caps fwarm, my Boys, 
 And your nim.ble Tongues forget your Mothers 
 Gibbcrifh, of vv^hat do you lack, and fct your Mouths 
 Up, Children, till your Pallats fall frighted half a 
 Fatliom, paft the Cure of Bay-falt and grofs Pepper. 
 And then cry Philafter., brave Philafter., 
 Let Philafter be deeper in Requefl, my Ding-dongs, 
 My pairs of dear Indentures, Kmgs of Clubs, 
 
 Than 
 
PHILASTER. 165 
 
 (54) Than your cold Water Camblets or your Paintings 
 
 Spotted with Copper; let not your haily Silks, 
 
 Or your branch'd Cloath of Bodkin, or your TifTues, 
 
 Dearly belov'd of fpiced Cake and Cuftard, 
 
 {^c^Pj) You Rohhin-hoods^ Scarlets, and Johns, tie your 
 
 Affedions 
 In Durance to your Shops ; no, dainty Duckers, 
 Up with your three-pil'd Spirits, your wrought Valours ; 
 And let your uncut Choler make the King feel 
 The Mealure of your Mightinefs, Philajlerl 
 Cry, my Rofe-nobles, cry. All. Phihijler! Philajier! 
 
 Cap. How do you like this, my Lord Prince ? thefe are 
 mad Boys, I tell you ; thefe are Things that will not ftrike 
 their Top-Iiiils to a Foift : and let a Man of War, ( ^G) an 
 Argofy, hull and C17 Cockles. 
 
 Pha. Why, you rude Slave, do you know what you do? 
 
 Cap. My pretty Prince of Puppets, we do know. 
 And give your Greatnefs Warning, that you talk 
 No more fuch Bug-words, or that foldred Crown 
 Shall be fcratch'd with a Musket : Dear Prince Pippen, 
 Down with your noble Blood ; or, as I live, 
 ril have you codled : Let him loofe, my Spirits, 
 Make us a round Ring with your Bills, my He^ors, 
 And \qi us fee what this trim Man dares do. 
 Now, Sir, have at you ; here I lie, 
 {c,y) And with this fwafhing Blow, (do you fweat, Prince.'') 
 
 {54) or your Paintings 
 
 Spitted ijoith Copper,'] This to me is quite unintelligible; I 
 have ventured to fubftituie, /potted; i. e. fprinkled with Copper, as 
 our painted Papers for Hangings are, to rcfenible Gold, and look 
 gaudy. 
 
 (55) Rohin-hoods, Scar/ets, a.nd yo6ns,] All, who know any thing 
 of the Story of Robin-hood, muft know that Scarlet and yohn were 
 two of his Favourite Dependants. 
 
 (56) an Argofie, hull and cry Cockles.'] Any large Veffel, fo called 
 from yaJon\ large Ship -^rgo. A Veffel is faid to bull, when fhe 
 floats, or rides idle to and fro upon the Water. 
 
 (57) Do you fwear. Prince?] If he did/x'.rflr, it muft be to him- 
 felf; for he was too much intimidated to venture to fwear at the 
 fwaggeriiig Rout who had incircled him, and were at the very Point 
 of knocking out his Brains. But I have reform'd the Text by the 
 Auchoncy of ievcral of the old Ouarto^s. 
 
 M 3 I could 
 
i66 PHILASTER. 
 
 I could hulk your Grace, and hang you up crofs-legg*d. 
 Like a Hare at a Poulterer's, and do tliis with this wiper. 
 
 Tha. You will not fee me murder'd, wicked Villains ? 
 
 (58) I Cit. Yes, indeed, will we, Sir j we have not feen 
 one fo a great while. 
 
 Cap. He would have Weapons, would he ? Give him 
 a li, my brave Boys, with your Pikes i branch 
 
 m? i . in Mowers like a Satin, and between every 
 
 Flower a mortal Cut ; your Royalty fliall ravel ; jag 
 hin., Gentlemen -, 1*11 have him cut to the Kell, then 
 down the Scams ; oh, for a Whip to make him Galoone- 
 Laces. 
 I'll have a Coach- whip. 
 
 Pha. O fparc me, Gentlemen. [himfelf. 
 
 Cap. Hold, hold, the Man begins to fear and know 
 
 (59) He fliall for this time only be feel'd up 
 
 W ith a Feather through his Nofc, that he may only 
 
 See Heaven, and think whither he is going. 
 
 Nay, beyond-Sea Sir, we will proclaim you, you'd 
 
 Be King, thou tender Heir apparent to 
 
 A Church- Ale, thou flight Prince of fingle Sarcenet ; 
 
 (60) Thou royal Ring-tail, fit to fly at nothing 
 But poor Men's Poultry,- and have every Boy 
 Beat thee from that too with his Bread and Butter. 
 
 Pha. Gods keep me from thefe Hell-hounds ! 
 
 2 Cit. Shall's geld him, Captain ^. 
 
 Cap. No, you fliall fpare his Dowcets, my dear Donfels, 
 As you refpeft the Ladies, let them flourifh j 
 The Curfes of a longing Woman kill 
 As fpeedy as a Plague, Boys, 
 
 (58) Tes, indeed, ivill ive. Sir; We ha<ve not feen one Foe a great 
 nvbile.'] This is a typographical Error, which, however, makes Non- 
 Sen fe of the PafTage. Foe is millakenly put {or fo. Mr. Sjmpfon. 
 
 (59) He fhall for this time onh he feal'd up 
 
 ivith a Feather thro the ^ofe,"] There is a DifFerence, which 
 the Printers did not know, betwixt fcaVd and fcePd', the Latter is 
 a Term in Falconry; When a Hawk is firft taken, a Thread is run 
 through its Eye-lids, fo that (he may fee very little, to make her 
 the better endure the Hood. 
 
 (60) Thou royal Ring-tail,] A Ring-tail is a fort of a Kite with a 
 whitiihTali. 
 
 I Cit, 
 
PHILASTER. 167 
 
 1 Cit, I'll have a Leg, that's certain. 
 
 2 Cit. I'll have an Arm. 
 
 3 Cit. I'll have his Nofe, and at mine own Charge 
 build a College, and clap'd upon the Gate. 
 
 4 Cit. I'll have his little Gut to firing ^ Kit with. 
 For, certainly, a royal Gut would found like Silver. 
 
 Fha, 'Would, they were in thy Belly, and I palt my 
 Pain once ! [rets. 
 
 5 Cit. Good Captain, let me have his Liver to feed Fer-» 
 Cap. Who will have Parcels elfc ? Speak. 
 
 Vha. Good Gods, confidcr me, I fliall be tortur'd. 
 
 1 Cit. Captain, I'll give you the Trimming of your two- 
 
 hand Sword, 
 And let me have his Skin to make falfe Scabbards. 
 
 2 Cit. He had no Horns, Sir, had he .'' 
 (61) Cap. No, Sir, he's a Pollard j 
 
 What would'fl thou do with Horns \ 2 Cit, O, if he had, 
 I would have made rare Hafts and Whittles of 'em ; 
 But his Shin-bones, if they be found, fliall ferve me. 
 
 Enter Philafler. 
 
 Ml. Long live Philajier., the brave Prince Philajier ! 
 
 Phi. I thank you, Gentlemen \ but why are thefe 
 Rude Weapons brought abroad, to teach your Hands 
 Uncivil Trades? Cap. My Royal Koficlear^ 
 We are thy Myrmidons, thy Guard, thy Roarers ; 
 And when thy noble Body is in Durance, 
 Thus do we clap our mufty Murrions on, 
 And trace the Streets in Terror : Is it Peace, 
 Thou Mars of Men -, Is the King Ibciable, 
 And bids thee live } Art thou above thy Foemen, 
 And free as Phcehus ? Speak ; if not, this Stand 
 Of Royal Blood fhall be abroach, a-tilt, and run 
 Even to the Lees of Honour. 
 
 Phi. Hold and be fatisfied, I am myfelf 
 Free as my Thoughts are j by the Gods, I am. 
 
 Cap. Art thou die dainty Darling of the King ? 
 
 (61) No, Sir, he^i a Pollard;] A Pollard, amongfl: Gardiner 1, is 
 an old Tree which has been often lopp'd ; but, amongfl Hunters, a 
 Stag, or Male-Deer, which has c:iR it-, Head, or Horns. 
 
 M 4 Art 
 
i68 PHILASrER. 
 
 Art thou the Hylas to our Hercules? 
 Do the Lords bow, and the regarded Scarlets, 
 Kifs the gum.-gols, and cry, we are your Servants ? 
 Is the Court navigable, and the Prelence ftuck 
 With Flags of i^riendfliip ? If not, we are thy Caftle, 
 And this Man fleeps. 
 
 Phi. I am what I defire to be, your Friend ; 
 I am what I was born to be, your Prince. 
 
 Pha. Sir, there is fome Humanity in you. 
 You have a noble Soul, forget my Name, 
 And know my Mifery ; fet me fafe aboard 
 From thefe wild Canibals^ and, as I live, 
 ril quit this Land for ever : There is nothing, 
 (62) Perpetual Prifonmcnt, Cold, Hunger, Sicknefs, 
 All Dangers of all Sorts, and all together. 
 The worft Company of the worll Men, Madnefs, Age, 
 To be as many Creatures as a Woman ; 
 And do, as all they do ; nay, to delpair ; 
 But I would rather make it a new Nature, 
 And live with all thofe, that endure one Hour 
 Amongft tliefe wild Dogs. 
 
 (62) Perpetual Prifonment, Cold, Hunger, Siclcnefs 
 
 Of all forts, all Dangers, and aft together,'] The mlfplacing 
 the Words here has fpoil'd the Meafure of the Verfe, and the Beaut/ 
 vl the Climax. It ihould have been, 
 
 ■ Hunger, Sichiefs, 
 
 All Dangers of all forts, afid all together. 
 The latter part of this Speech has great Difficulties in it j I cannot 
 model it into a confident Senfe, tho' I have fome Glimpfe of a 
 Meaning. 1 v/ifh the old ^arto's may affift in clearing up the Ob- 
 fcurity. Mr. Se-iuard. 
 
 As none of the old ^aria's come in to our Aid, we muft try how 
 far Explanation will go towards it. 
 
 To he as many Creatures as a Woman, 
 i. e. To be as .<ickle, variable, and changing : 
 
 And do as all they do ; 
 /. e. make a Pradife of Incontinency : For, as he thought, there 
 were Proofs of the Princefb being turn'd a Wanton, he on that Ac- 
 count deems the whole Sex Proilitutes. After he has number'd up 
 the worfl States of Mankind, and wifli'd himfelf as one of them, (as 
 Mr. Seixcrd obfcrv'd to me) he carries it farther, and would choofe 
 to be of a Species below Human Nature; and live with fuch, rather 
 than to endure one Hour amongft thefe wild Dogs. 
 
 Phi. 
 
PHILASTER. 169 
 
 Vhi. I do pity you : Friends, difcharge your Fears, 
 Deliver me the Prince ; I'll warrant you, 
 I fliall be old enough to find my Safety. 
 
 3 Cit. Good Sir, take heed he does not hurt you, 
 He's a fierce Man I can tell you, Sir. 
 
 Cap. Prince, by your Leave, I'll have a Sar-cingle, 
 And mail you like a Hawk. \He jiirs. 
 
 Phi. Away, away, there is no Danger in him : 
 Alas, he had rather fleep to ihakc his Fit off. 
 Look you, Friends, how gently he leads ; upon my Word, 
 He's tame enough, he needs no further watching. 
 Good, my Friends, go to your Houfes, and by mc have 
 
 Your Pardons, and my Love •, 
 
 And know, there fhall be nothing in my Pow'r 
 You may deferve, but you Ihall have your Wifhes. 
 To give you more Thanks, were to flatter you ; 
 Continue flill your Love, and for an Earneft 
 Drink this. All. Long maill thou live, brave Prince ! 
 Brave Prince, brave Prince ! \Exeunt Phi. and Pha. 
 
 Cap. Go thy ways ; thou art the King of Courtefy : 
 Fall off again, my fweet Youths ; come, and every Man 
 trace to his Houfe again, and hang his JPewter up ; then 
 to the Tavern, and bring your Wives in Muffs : We will 
 have Mufick, and the red Grape Ihall make us dance, 
 and rife. Boys. [^Exeunt. 
 
 Enter King, Arethufa, Galatea, Megra, Cleremont, 
 Dion, Thrafiline, Bellario, and Attendants. 
 
 King. Is it appeas'd .'' 
 
 {6-^ Dion. Sir, all is quiet as the Dead of Night, 
 (64) As peaceable as Sleep ; my Lord Philafter 
 Brings on the Prince himftll. King. Kind Gentleman ! 
 
 (63) 5/r, all is quiet as this Dead of Night.'\ There is no Hint of 
 the Scene being at Midnight ; we mull therefore read the Dead of 
 Night. Mr. Seivard. 
 
 (64) My lord Philafter 
 
 Brings on the Prince hirifelf. King. Kind Gentlemen !] It 
 is plain, that the King is fpeaking here of the Kindnefs of Philajler 
 in appeafing the People, and redeeming Pharamond ; and not of the 
 Kindnefs of Dion, and the o'.hers prcfent, who only inform'd him of 
 it VVc niu;l therefore read, Qcntleman. M.r.St'u.ard. 
 
 I will 
 
I70 PHILASTER. 
 
 1 will not break the Jeaft Word I have giv'n 
 In Promife to him ; I have heap'd a World 
 Of Grief upon liis Head, which yet, I hope. 
 To wafh away. 
 
 Enter Philafl-er avd Pharamond. 
 
 Cle. My Lord is come. King. My Son ! 
 Bleft be the Time, that I liave Leave to call 
 Such Virtue mine ! Now thou art in mine Arms, 
 Methinks, I have a Salve unto my Bread 
 For all the Stings tliat dwell there ; Streams of Grief 
 That I have wrong'd thee, and as much of Joy 
 That I re pent it, ifilie from mine Eyes : 
 Let them appeafe thee, take thy Right •, take her. 
 She is thy Right too, and forget to urge 
 My vexed Soul with that I did before. 
 
 Phi. Sir, it is blotted from my Memoiy, 
 Paft and forgotten : For you. Prince of Spain^ 
 Whom I have thus redeem'd, you have full I^eavc 
 To make an honourable Voyage home. 
 And if you would go furnifh'd to your Realm 
 With fair Provifion, I do fee a Lady, 
 Methinks, would gladly bear you Company : 
 How like you this Piece ? 
 
 Meg. Sir, he likes it well. 
 For he hath tried it, and has found it worth 
 His princely Liking •, we were ta'en a-bed, 
 I know your Meaning ; I am not the firft. 
 That Nature taught to feek a Fellow forth : 
 Can Shame remain perpetually in me. 
 And not in others .'' or have Princes Salves 
 To cure ill Names, that meaner People, want ? 
 
 Fhi. What mean you .'' 
 
 {()^) Meg. You muft get another Ship 
 To bear the Princefs and the Boy together. 
 
 Dion. How now ! 
 
 (65) ■ you muji get another Ship 
 
 To clear the Princefs and the Boy together. "^ Infiead of clear^ 
 I have fubftitutcd the Word that has the Sanftion of ail the old 
 ^arto^s. 
 
 Meg. 
 
PHILASTER. 171 
 
 Meg. Others took me, and I took her and him 
 At That all Women may be ta'en fometimes : 
 Ship us all four, my Lord, we can endure 
 Weather and Wind alike. 
 
 Kmg. Clear thou thyfelf, or know not me for Father. 
 
 Are. This Earth, how falfe it is ! what Means is left 
 For me to clear myfelf ? It lies in your Belief. 
 My Lords, believe me, and let all things elfe 
 Struggle together to diilionour me. 
 
 Bel. O flop your Ears, great King, that I may ipeak 
 As Freedom would, then I will call this Lady 
 As bafe as be her Adions : Hear me. Sir, 
 Believe your heated Blood when it rebels 
 Againft your Reafon, fooner tlian this Lady. 
 
 Meg. By this good Light, he bears it handfomly. 
 
 Phi. This Lady? I will iboner trull the Wind 
 With Feathers, or the troubled Sea with Pearl, 
 Than her with any tiling; believe her not ! 
 Why, think you, if I did believe her Words, 
 I would outlive 'em ? Honour cannot take 
 Revenge on you, then what were to be known 
 But Death ? King. Forget her, Sir, fince all is knit 
 Between us : But I mull requefl of you 
 [66) One Favour, and will fadly be denied. 
 
 Phi. Command whate'er it be. King. Swear to be true 
 To what you promife. Phi. By the Pow'rs above. 
 Let it not be the Death of her or him. 
 And it is granted. Ki?ig. Bear away the Boy 
 To Torture, I will have her clear*d or buried. 
 
 Phi. O, let me call my Words back, worthy Sir; 
 Ask fomething elfe, bury my Life and Right 
 In one poor Grave, but do not take away 
 My Life and Fame at once. 
 
 King. Away with him, it (lands irrevocable. 
 
 Phi. Turn all your Eyes on me, here Hands a Man 
 The falfell and the bafell of this World : 
 Set Swords againft this Breaft, fome honeft Man, 
 
 (66) ■ Jnd Tv/V/ fadly be treated.'} i. e. fhall be very forry 
 
 to be denied. 
 
 For 
 
172 PHILASTER. 
 
 For I have Jiv'd till I am pitied. 
 
 My former Deeds were hateful, but this laft 
 
 Is pitiful i for I uRwiUingly 
 
 Have given the dear Prefci-ver of my Life 
 
 Unto his Torture : Is it in the Pov/'r 
 
 [ Offers to kill himjelf. 
 Of Flefli and Blood to carry this, and live ? 
 
 Are. (67) Dear Sir, be patient yet ; Oh, flay tliat Hand. 
 
 King. Sirs, fbrip that Boy. 
 
 Dion. Come, Sir, your tender Flefh will try your 
 
 Conftancy. 
 Bel. O kill me. Gentlemen. Dion. No, heJp, Sirs. 
 Bel. Will you torture me? 
 King. Hafte there, why flay you ? 
 Bel. Then I fhall not break my Vow, 
 You know, juil Gods, though I difcover all. 
 King. How's that.'' Will he confefs .^ 
 Dion. Sir, fo he fays. King, Speak then. 
 Bel. Great King, if you command 
 This Lord to talk with me alone, my Tongue, 
 Urg'd by my Heart, ihall utter all the Thoughts 
 My Youth hath known, and flranger Things than thefc 
 You hear not often. King. Walk afide with him. 
 Dion. Why fpeak'fl thou not ? 
 Bel. Know you this Face, my Lord ? 
 Dion. No. Bel. Have you not fecn it, nor the like ? 
 Dion. Yes, I have feen the like, but readily 
 I know not where. Bel. I have been often told 
 In Court of one Euphrajia, a Lady, 
 And Daughter to you ; betwixt whom and me 
 They, that would flatter my bad Face, would fwear 
 There was fuch ftrange Refemblance, that we two 
 Could not be known afunder, drefl alike. 
 Dion. By Heav'n, and fo there is. 
 Bel. For her fair Sake, 
 Who now doth fpend the Spring-time of her Life 
 In holy Pilgrimage, move to the King, 
 
 (67) Dear Sir, he patient yet ; or J? ay that Hand.'\ I have reforin'd 
 the Text, from the Authority of the old ^tarto's : and ihe ingenious 
 Mr. Sev;ard prefcribM the lame Emendation. 
 
 ^ That 
 
PHILASrER. 173 
 
 That I may 'fcape this Torture. Dion, But thou fpeak'ft 
 
 As like Euphrqfm^ as thou doll look. 
 
 How came it to thy Knowledge that flie lives 
 
 In Pilgrimage } Bel I know it not, my Lord. 
 
 But I have heard it, and do fcarce believe it. 
 
 Dion. Oh, my Shame, is it pofTible ? Draw near. 
 That I may gaze upon thee -, art thou fhe ? 
 Or elfe her Murderer.'' Where wert thou born ^ 
 
 Bel, In Siracufa. Dion, W hat's thy Name ? 
 
 Bel. Euphrafia. 
 
 Dion. 'Tis juft, 'tis fhe now, I do know thee; Oh 
 That thou had ft died, and I had never feen 
 Thee nor my Shame. How fhall I own thee } Shall 
 This Tongue of mine e'er call thee Daughter more ? 
 
 Bel. 'Would, I had died, indeed, Iwifhittoo; 
 And fo I mull have done by Vow, e'er publifli'd 
 What I have told, but that there was no means 
 To hide it longer; yet I joy in tliis, 
 The Princefs is all clear. 
 
 Ki7ig. What have you done ? 
 
 Dion. All is diicover'd. Phi. Why then hold you me? 
 
 [He offers to fiab himfelf 
 All is difcover'd ; pray you, let me go. 
 
 King, Stay him. Are, What is difcover'd ? 
 
 Dion. Why, my Shame-, 
 It is a Woman, let her fpeak the reft. 
 
 Phi, How ! that again. Dion. It is a Woman. 
 
 Phi. Bleft be you Pow'rs that favour Innocence ! 
 
 King, Lay hold upon that Lady. 
 
 Phi. It is a Woman, Sir -, hark, Gentlemen ! 
 It is a Woman. Arethufa., take 
 My Soul into thy Breaft, that would be gone 
 
 With Joy : It is a Woman, thou art fair. 
 
 And virtuous ftill to Ages, 'fpight of Malice. 
 
 King. Speak you, where lies his Shame ? 
 
 Bel. I am his Daughter. 
 
 Phi. The Gods are juft. 
 
 Dion. I dare accufe none, but before you two. 
 The Virtue of our Age, I bend my Knee 
 For Mercy. Phi. 1 ake it freely i for, I know, 
 
 Though 
 
174 PHILAHTER. 
 
 Though what thou didil were indifcreetly done, 
 'l\vas meant well. Are. And for me, 
 I have a Pow'r to pardon Sins as oft 
 As any Man has Pow'r to wrong me. 
 
 Cle. Noble and worthy. Phi. But, Bellario, 
 (For I muft call thee lliil fo) tell me, why 
 Thou didft conceal thy Sex •, it was a Fault ; 
 A Fault, Bel/an'oy though thy other Deeds 
 Of Truth outweigh'd it : All thefe Jealoufies 
 Had flown to nothing, if thou hadft difcover'd, 
 "What now we know. 
 
 (68) Bel. My Father oft would fpeak 
 Your Worth and Virtue, and as I did grow 
 More and more apprehenfive, I did thirll 
 To fee the Man fo prais'd ; but yet all this 
 Was but a Maiden- longing, to be loft 
 As foon as found ; till fitting in my Window, 
 Printing my Thoughts in Lawn, I faw a God, 
 I thought (but it was you) enter our Gates ; 
 My Blood flew out, and back again as faft, 
 As I had puff'd it forth and fuck'd it in 
 Like Breath, then was I call'd away in hafte 
 To entertain you. Never was a Man, 
 Heav'd from a Slieep-cote to a Scepter, rais'd 
 So high in Thoughts as I ; you left a Kifs 
 Upon thefe Lips then, which I mean to keep 
 From you for ever ; I did hear you talk. 
 Far above Singing ; after you were gone, 
 I grew acquainted with my Heart, and fearch'd 
 "What ftir*d it fo : Alas ! I found it Love ; 
 Yet far from Luft, for could I have but liv'd 
 In Prefence of you, I had had my End ; 
 
 (68) My Father oft 'would /peak, &c ] The Beauty, the 
 
 Innocence, of Euphrcjlcii Charafter is finely dcpitted in this Narra- 
 tion from her own Mouth. Our Poet?, when they intended it, fcl- 
 dom fail'd in the Art of moving the Pafllons. The young Lady, from 
 her Father's Encomiums firfl, had fal'n in Love with Philajier', the' 
 ftic knew, that fhe could have no Pretenfions to his Bed. But as her 
 next, and only, Happinefs was to live in his Sight, fhe difguis'd her 
 Sex, and enter'd into his Service. Her Refolution, and Vow, never 
 to marry any other, is a fine Heightning of her Character. 
 
 For 
 
PHILASTER. 175 
 
 For this I did delude my noble Father 
 
 With a fcign'd Pilgrimage, and drcfs'd myfdf 
 
 In Habit of a Boy; and, for I knew 
 
 My Birth no Match for you, 1 was paft Hope 
 
 Of having you : and underllanding well 
 
 That when I made Difcovery of my Sex, 
 
 1 could not ftay with you ; I made a Vow, 
 
 By all the moll religious Things a Maid 
 
 Could call together, never to be known, 
 
 ^hilft there was Hope to hide me from Mens Eyes, 
 
 For other than I fccm'd, that I might ever 
 
 Abide with you ; then fate I by the Fount, 
 
 "Where firft you took me up. 
 
 King. Search out a Match 
 Within our Kingdom, where and when thou wilt. 
 And I will pay thy Dowry; and thyfelf 
 Wilt well deferve him. 
 
 Bel. Never, Sir, will I 
 Marry, it is a Thing within my Vow ; 
 But if 1 may have Leave to ferve the Princefs, 
 To fee the Virtues of her Lord and her, 
 I fliall have Hope to live. Are. And I, Philajier 
 Cannot be jealous, though you had a Lady 
 Dreft like a Page to ferve you, nor will I 
 Sufpe(5l her living here : Come, live with me. 
 Live free, as I do; ihe that loves my Lord, 
 Curft be the Wife that hates her ! 
 
 Phi. \ grieve, fuch Virtues fhould be laid in Earth 
 Without an Heir. Hear me, my royal Father, 
 Wrong not the Freedom of our Souls fo much. 
 To think to take Revenge of that bafe Woman ; 
 Her Malice cannot hurt us ; fet her free 
 As flie was born, faving fiom Shame and Sin. 
 
 King. Set her ' L Liberty, but leave the Court, 
 This is no Place for luch : You, Pharamond, 
 Shall have free PalTage, and z. Conduct home 
 Worthy fo great a Prince ; when you come there. 
 Remember, *tw?s your Faults that loft you her. 
 And not my purposed Will. Pha. I do confels. 
 Renowned Sir. 
 
 King. 
 
176 PHILASTER. 
 
 King. Laft, join your Hands in one. Enjoy, Philajler^ 
 This Kingdom which is yours, and after me 
 "Whatever I call mine; my Blefllng on you! 
 All happy Hours be at your Marriage- joys. 
 That you may grow yourfeives over all Lands, 
 And live to fee your plenteous Branches fpring 
 
 Where-ever there is Sun ! Let Princes learn 
 
 By this to rule the Paffions of their Blood, 
 
 For, What Heav'n wills, can never be withftood. 
 
 [Exeuni Omnes. 
 
A KING, 
 
 AND 
 
 NO KING- 
 
 Vol. I. 
 
 N 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 Arbaces, King of Iberia. 
 
 Tigranes, Kjng of Armenia. 
 
 Gobrias, Lord Prote^ior^ and Father of Arbaces. 
 
 Bacurius, another Lord. 
 
 Mardonius, 1 ^ ^ 
 
 C Two Captains^ 
 BefTus, 3 
 
 Ligones, Father of Spaconia. 
 
 Arane, the keen's Mother. 
 
 Panthea, her Daughter. 
 
 Spaconia, a Lady, Daughter of Ligones. 
 
 Mandane, a TFaiting-womm ; and other Attendants, 
 
 T'wo Gentlemen. 
 
 Three Men and a Woman. 
 
 Philip, a Servant, and two Citizens Wives » 
 
 A Meffenger. 
 
 A Servant to Bacurius. 
 
 Two Sword-men. 
 
 A Boy. 
 
 SCENE, on the Frontiers of Armenia; andj 
 afterwards, in the Metropolis of Iberia. 
 
 A Kl N G 
 
A K I N G5 and No Kin g. 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Mardonius and (i) BcfTus. 
 
 Mard on I u s. 
 
 ESSUS, the King has made a fair Hand on*!', 
 
 he has ended the Wars at a Blow ; Would 
 
 my Sword had a clofe Basket Hilt to hold 
 
 Wine, and the Blade would make Knives, for 
 
 we fhall have nothing but eating and drinking. 
 
 JBef. We, that are Commanders, fhall do well enough. 
 
 Mar. 'Faith, Beffus, fuch Commanders as tliou may ; 
 
 I had as lieve fet thee Perdue for a Pudding i' th' Dark, 
 
 as Alexander the Great. 
 
 Bef. I love thefe Jefts exceedingly. 
 Mar. I think, thou lov'ft »em better than quarrelling, 
 Bejjus., V\\ fay fo much i' thy Behalf; and yet thou'rt 
 
 (i) The Chara(3er oi Bejfus, I think, mud ht allow'd in general 
 a fine Copy from Shakespeare's inimitable Faljlaffe. He is a 
 Coward, yet would fain fet up for a Hero ; Oflentatious, without any 
 Grain of Merit to fupport his Vain glory ; A Lyar throughout, to 
 exalt his aifumed Qualifications; and lewd, without any Countenance 
 from the Ladies to give him an Umbrage for it. As to his H'it and 
 Humour, the Precedence mull certainly be adjudg'd to Faljlaffe, the 
 great Original. 
 
 N 2 . valiant 
 
i8o A King^ and No Kiiig. 
 
 vaiiar.t enough upon a Retreat; I think, thou wouldfl 
 kill any Man that itop'd thee, it' thou coukift. 
 
 Be}'. But was not this a brave Combate, Mardonius ? 
 
 Mcir. AYhy, didft thou fcc't ? 
 
 Bef. You flood wi' me. 
 
 Mar. I did fo ; bur, methoughr, thou wink'dft every 
 Blow they flmck. 
 
 Bef. WeU, I behevc, there are better Soldiers than I, 
 that never law tv/o Princes fight in Lifts. 
 
 Mar. By my Troth, I think fo too, Bejfus^ many a 
 Thouland \ but, certainly, all that are worfe than thou 
 have feen as much. 
 
 Bef. 'Twas bravely done of our King. 
 
 Mar. Yes, if he had not ended the Wars : I'm glad, 
 thou dar'fl talk of fuch dangerous BufinefTcs. 
 
 Bef. To take a Prince Prifoner in the Heart of 's own 
 Country in fingle Combat. 
 
 Mar. See, how thy Blood curdles at this-, I think, thou 
 couldft be contented to be beaten i' this Pafllon. 
 
 Bef, Shall I tell you truly ? Mar. Ay. 
 
 Bef. I could willingly venture for't. 
 
 Mar. Kum ! no Venture neither, good Beffus. 
 
 Bef. Let me not live, if I do not think 'tis a braver 
 Piece of Service than that I'm fo fam'd for. 
 
 Mar. Why, art thou fam'd for any Valour ^ 
 
 Bef. I fam'd ! Ay, I warrant you. 
 
 Mar. I'm e'en heartily glad on't ; I have been with 
 thee e'er fince thou cam'il to th' Wars, and this is the 
 firft Word that ever I heard on't ; prithee, who fames 
 thee ? 
 
 Bef The Chriftian World. 
 
 Mar. 'Tis heathcniflily done of *em, in my Confcience j 
 thou deferv'dft it not. 
 
 Bef Yes, I ha' done good Service. 
 
 Mar. I do not know how thou may'll: wait of a Man 
 in's Chamber, or thy Agility in fliifting a Trencher; but, 
 otherwife, no Sen'ice, good Bcf[:>5. 
 
 Bef You faw me do the Service yoiirfelf. 
 
 Mar. Not fo hafty, fwect Bcfj'us., where was it, is the 
 Place vanifh'd ? 
 
 Bef. 
 
A King^ a?7d No King, 1 8 1 
 
 Bef. At 5^_///^^' dcfp' rate Redemption. 
 
 Mar. At BeJJus^ delp'rate Redemption, where's that ? 
 
 Bef. There, where 1 redeem'd the Day •, the Place bears 
 my Name. 
 
 Mar. Pray thee, who chriftened it ? 
 
 Bcf. The Soldiers. 
 
 Mar. If I were not a very merrily difpos'd Man, what 
 would become of thee ? One, that had but a Grain c^ 
 Choler in the whole Compoficion of his Body, would fend 
 thee of an Errand to the Worms for putdng thy Name 
 upon that field : Did not I beat thee there i' th' Head 
 o' th' Troops with a Truncheon, becaufe thou wouldft 
 needs run away with thy Company, when we fhould 
 charge the Enemy ? 
 
 B(:f. True ; but I did not run. 
 
 Mar. Right, Bejfus^ I beat thee out on't. 
 
 Bef. But came I not up when the Day was gone, and re- 
 deem'd all? 
 
 Mar. Thou knov»?cfl, and fo do I, thou mean'dfl to fly, 
 and, thy Fear making thee miftake, thou ran'fl upon the 
 Enemy, and a hot Charge thou gav'fti as Pll do thee 
 Right, thou art furious in running away, and, I think, we 
 owe thy Fear for our Vidlory •, If I were the Kino-^ and 
 were fure thou would ft miftake always and run away upon 
 th' Enemy, thou fliouldft be General, by this Light. 
 
 Bef. You'll newr leave this till 1 fall foul. 
 
 Mar. No more fuch Words, dear Bejfus ; for though I 
 have ever known thee a Coward, and therefore durft never 
 ftrike thee, yet if thou proceedeft, I will allow thee vahant, 
 -ind beat thee. 
 
 Bef. Come, come, our King's a brave Fellow. 
 
 Mar. He is fo, Bejfus j I wonder how thou cam'ft to 
 know it. But if thou wert a Man of Underftanding I would 
 tell thee, (2) he is vain-glorious and humble, and angry 
 
 and 
 
 (2) He is 'vain-ghrious, and humble, anJ trrrgry, euid patienty ami 
 merry, aitd dull, and joyful, atid forroKKful, in Exlrinity in an Hour:] 
 Mnrdomus here has vcvy exaftly Jecypher'd the Character of the Kitiij. 
 The (light Variation that I have made in the pointing. I think, gives 
 us tlie Meaning of the Poets; i-iz. that Arhaca difplays the Con^ralt 
 of all his Paflions, to tJjcir utmoft pitch, in the coiiipal's. of an Hour. 
 
 Vol. I. ^■ 3 for. 
 
I 8 2 A Ktng^ and No King. 
 
 and patient, and merry and dull, and joyful and forrowful 
 in Extremity, in an Hour : X^io not think me thy Friend 
 for this, for, if I car'd who knew it, thou fliouldft not 
 hear it, Beffus. Here he is with his Prey in his Foot. 
 Enter Arbaces, Tigranes, and two Gentlemen. 
 Arh. Thy Sadnefs, brave Tigranes^ takes away 
 From my full Vidory : Am I become 
 Of fo fmall Fame, that any Man ihould grieve 
 "When I o'ercome him? They, that plac'd me here. 
 Intended it an Honour large enough. 
 For the mofh valiant living, but to dare 
 Oppofe me fmgle, though he loft the Day. 
 What fhould afRid you ? you're as free as I ; 
 To be my Prifoner, is to be more free 
 Than you were formerly ; and never think. 
 The Man, I held worthy to combat me. 
 Shall be us'd fervilely : Thy Ranfom is 
 To take my only Sifter to thy Wife. 
 A heavy one, Tigranes^ for ftic is 
 A Lady, that the Neighbour Princes fend 
 Blanks to fetch home. I have been too unkind 
 To her, Tigranes ; Ihe but nine Years old, 
 I left her, and ne'er faw her fince ; your Wars 
 Have held me long, and taught me, though a Youth, 
 The way to Viflory ; i'n.t was a pretty Child, 
 Then I was little better ; but now Fame 
 
 For, as Mardonius afterwards fays of him, this Comment is confirmed; 
 I ncfer fa^jo fuch fuddain Extremities. 
 I ought to fubjoin Mr. Sc^vnrdu Defence of this Play. — " Mr. Rhy- 
 " OT^r flings the mofl: virulent of all his Inveftivos againft Othello and 
 " Arbaces, falfly deeming all the Faults of thofe Characters to be fo 
 *' many Cliarges againil the Poets; whereas their Intent wss not to 
 " paint Ferfiiiion but Human Nature, to blend the Virtues and Vices 
 " together, fo that both may fpring from the fame Temper, and, like 
 ** handfom and ill- favour d Children, both ftill bear a Refemhlance to their 
 " Sire. To do this well is one of the highefl Efforts of Poetry. Ar- 
 " haces, like his great PaUern Achilles, has Virtues and Vices in the Ex- 
 " treme. His Violence makes us expeft fome dreadful Effeft, and it 
 " therefore foon hurries him into an Attempt to commit Incejl. He is 
 " to raife Tcrrsr and Anger, not Pity and Love, and Mr. Rhymer hav- 
 •' ing the fame Choler in his Te?hper, ridiculoufly took fire, and fu- 
 ♦' rioufly attack'd his cv..?; Shad'^^^-. 
 
 Cries 
 
A Khigy and No King, 183 
 
 Cries loudly on her, and my MeiTengers 
 
 Make mc believe, fhe is a Miracle ; 
 
 She'll make you fhrink, as I did, with a Stroke 
 
 But of her Eye, 'Tigranes. 1'ig}\ Is't the Courfe of 
 
 Ueria to ufe their Prifoners thus ? 
 
 Had Fortune thrown my Name above Jrhaces^ 
 
 I fhould not thus have talk'd. Sir : In Annen:a^ 
 
 We hold it bafe : You fliould have kept your Temper 
 
 Till you faw Home again, where 'tis the Fafhion. 
 
 Perhaps, to brag. Arb. Be you my Witnels, Earth, 
 
 Need I to brag ? Doth not this Captive Prince 
 
 Speak me fufficiently, and ail the A6ts 
 
 That I have wrought upon his fulFering Land ? 
 
 Should I then boaft ! where lies that Foot of Ground 
 
 Within his whole Realm, that I have not paft. 
 
 Fighting and conquering ; far then from me 
 
 Be Oftentation. I could tell the World 
 
 How I have laid his Kingdom defolate 
 
 By this fole Arm, prop'd by Divinity; 
 
 Stript him out of his Glories, and have fent 
 
 The Pride of all his Youth to people Graves ; 
 
 And made his Virgins languifh for their Loves, 
 
 If I would brag. Should I, that have the Pow'r 
 
 To teach the neighbour World Humility, 
 
 Mix with Vain-glory ? 
 
 Mar. Indeed, this is none. [^Aftde, 
 
 Arb. Tigranes, • no, did I but take Delight 
 To ftretch my Deeds as others do, on Words, 
 I could amaze my Hearers. Mar. So you do, 
 
 Arb. (3) But he fhall wrong his and my Modelly, 
 That thinks me apt to boaft : After an A6t 
 Fit for a God to do upon his Foe, 
 A little Glory in a Soldier's Mouth 
 
 {3) But he Jhall ivrong his and my Modejly, 
 
 That thinks mc apt to boafi after any ASl 
 
 Fit for a good Man to do upon his Foe,'\ The Meafure, the 
 Pointing, and the Senfe, are all defeftive here. I have reltor'd all 
 three from the Authority of the ^«r/o's in i6ig, and 1676. 
 
 N 4 In 
 
J 84 A King^ and No King, 
 
 Is well-becoming; be it far from vain. 
 
 Mar. 'Tis pity, that Valour Ihould be thus drunk. 
 
 Arh. I offer you my Sifter, and you anfwer, 
 I do infult : A Lady that no Suit, 
 Nor 1 reafure, nor tliy Crown, could purchafe thee. 
 But that thou fought'il with me. 
 
 mgr. Though this be worfe 
 Than that you fpake before, it ftrikes me not; 
 But that you think to over-grace me with 
 The Marriage of your Sifter, troubles mc, 
 I would give Worlds for Ranfoms, were they mine. 
 Rather than have her. Arh. See, if I infult. 
 That am the Conqueror, and for a Ranfom 
 Offer rich Treafure to the Conquered, 
 Which he refufes, and I bear his Scorn : . 
 It cannot be Self-Flattery to fay, 
 The Daughters of your Countiy, fet by her. 
 Would fee their Shame, run home and blufh to Death, 
 At their own Foulnefs ; yet fhe is not fair, 
 Nor beautiful, thofe Words exprefs her not ; 
 They fay, her Looks have fomething excellent, 
 That wants a Name : Yet were fhe odious, 
 Her Birth deferves the Empire of the World, 
 Sifter to fuch a Brother ; that hath ta'en 
 Vi6tory Prifoner, and throughout the Eaith 
 Carries her bound, and fhould he let her loofe. 
 She durft not leave him ; Nature did her Wrong, 
 To print continual Conqueft on her Cheeks, 
 And make no Man worthy for her to take, 
 But me, that am too near her \ and as ftrangely 
 She did for me, but you will think I brag. 
 
 Mar. I do, I'll be fworn. Thy Valour and thy Paf- 
 fions fever' d, would have made two excellent Fellows in 
 their kinds : I know not, whether I fhould be fony thou 
 art fo valiant, or fo paffionate j *wou'd, one of 'em were 
 away ! \_Afide. 
 
 Tigr. Do I refufe her, that I doubt her Worth ? 
 Were fhe as virtuous as fhe would be tliought. 
 So perfeft, that no one of her own Sex 
 
 Could 
 
A Kingy and No K'mg. 185 
 
 Could find a Want ; (4) Were fhe fo tempting fair, 
 
 That flie could wilh it off, for damning Souls ; 
 
 I would pay any Ranlbm, twenty Lives, 
 
 Rather than meet her married in my Bed. 
 
 Perhaps, I have a Love, where I have fix'd 
 
 Mine Eyes not to be mov'd, and fhe on me; 
 
 I am not fickle, ylrb. Is that all the Caufc ? 
 
 Ihink you, you can fo knit yourfclf in Love 
 
 To any other, that her fearching Sight 
 
 Cannot difTolve it ? So, before you try'd. 
 
 You thought yourfelf a Match for me in Fight : 
 
 Trufl me, 'Tigranes, fhe can do as much 
 
 In Peace, as I in War; fhe' 11 conquer too ; 
 
 You fhall fee, (5) if you have the Pow'r to ftand 
 
 The Force of her fwift Looks. If you didike, 
 
 I'll fend you home with Love, and name your Ranfom 
 
 Some other way; but if fhe be your Choice, 
 
 She frees you : To Iheria you muft. 
 
 (4) — <voere JJ^e fo tempting fair ^ 
 
 That f?e could ivif: it off, for damning Souls ; ] This PafTagf is 
 fo obfcure in the Expreflicn, thar, I believe, it will want a Ihort Com- 
 ment to the Generality of Readers. The Authors mean " Were fhe 
 *' fo temptingly fair, that Ihe could wifh to be lefs beauteous, for 
 ** Fear of damning Souls, in their coveting to enjoy her Charms; C5V 
 So, Shakespeare in his Othello ; 
 
 A Fellon.v almofi damn'd in a fair Wife, 
 i. e. grown fo uxorious through the Attractions of her Beauty, as to 
 negledt all his Duty towards Heaven, and confequently incur the Dan- 
 ger of Damnation. This Sentiment is cxplain'd in another Paflage of 
 that immortal Author, in his Merchant of Venice. 
 ^ it is 'very ti:eet. 
 
 The Lord Baflanio linje an upright Life. 
 
 For, homing fuch a Blelfing in his Lady, 
 
 He finds the Joys of Heaven here on Earth ; 
 
 And if on Earth he do not merit //, 
 
 In Rcafon he fhould ne'ver come to Heav'n. 
 
 (5) ' if you ha've the Ponvr to Jland " 
 
 The Force of her fwift Loois.] Both Mr. Senvard and Mr. Syfnp- 
 fan chufe to adopt the Epithet^ fnx'eet. I have not ventur'd to alter 
 the Text 5 becaufe, I think, the Word fnuift is more confonant to 
 Force, \. e. the Power of her keen, pointed Glances ; as Arhaces fpe:ik.s 
 of her a little above; 
 
 She'll make you fhrlnk, as I did, •a//^ rt Stroke 
 
 J^ut of her Eyey Tigranes. 
 
i86 A Kingy and No King, 
 
 I'igr. Sir, I have learn*d a Prifoner's Sufferance, 
 And will obey, but give me Leave to talk 
 In private with fome Friends before I go. 
 
 Arb. Some do await him forth, and fee him fafc. 
 But let him freely fend for whom he pleafc, 
 And none dare to difturb his Conference -, 
 I will not have him know what Bondage is, 
 
 [^Exit Tigranes. 
 'Till he be free from me. This Prince, Mardotiius^ 
 Is full of Wifdom, Valour, all the Graces 
 Man can receive. Mar. And yet you conquer'd liim. 
 
 Jrb. And yet I conquer'd him, and could have don't, 
 Hadfl thou join'd with him, though thy Name in Arms 
 Be great •, muft all Men, that arc virtuous. 
 Think fuddenly to match themfelves with me ? 
 I conquered him, and bravely, did I not? 
 
 Bef. An pleafe your Majefty, I was afraid at firft, 
 
 Mar. When wert thou other .' Arb. Of what .? 
 
 Bef. That you would not have Ipy'd your beft: Ad- 
 vantage; for your Majefty, in my Opinion, lay too 
 high; methinks, under favour, you fliould have lain 
 thus. 
 
 Mar. Like a Tailor at a Wake. 
 
 Bef. And then, if *t pleafe your Majefty to remember, 
 at one Time, by my troth, I wifti'd myfelf wi'you. 
 
 Mar. By my troth, thou would'ft ha' ftunk 'em both 
 out o'th' Lifts. 
 
 Arb. What to do ? 
 
 Bef. To put your Majefty in mind of an Occafion ; you 
 lay thus, and Tigranes falfified a Blow at your Leg, which 
 you, by doing thus, avoided ; but if you had whip'd up 
 your Leg thus, and reach'd him on the Ear, you had 
 made the Blood-Royal run down his Head. 
 
 Mar. What Country Fence-School did'ft thou learn 
 that at ? 
 
 Arb. Pifh ! did not I take him nobly ? 
 
 Mar. Why, you did, and you have talk'd enough on't. 
 
 Arb. Talk'd enough.^ 
 Will you confine my Words .' By Heav'n and Earth, 
 I were much better be a King of Beafts 
 
 Than 
 
A King^ ajid No King. 187 
 
 Than fuch a People : If I had not Patience 
 Above a God, I Ihould be call'd a Tyrant 
 Throughout the World. They will offend to Death 
 Each Minute : Let me hear thee fpeak again. 
 And thou art Earth again : "Why, this is like 
 digrams'' Speech, that needs would fay, I brag'd. 
 Bejjus, hefaid, I brag»d. Be{. Ha, ha, ha! 
 
 Arb. Why dolt thou laugh? 
 By all the World, I'm grown ridiculous 
 To my own Subjects : Tic me to a Chair, 
 And jeaft at me ; but I fhall make a Start, 
 And punifli fome, that others may take heed 
 How they are haughty •, who will anfwer me ? 
 He faid, I boafted ; fpeak, Mardonius^ 
 Did 1 ? He will not anfwer. O my Temper ! 
 I give you Thanks above, that taught my Heart 
 Patience, I can endure his Silence. What, will none 
 Vouchfafe to give me Anfwer ? Am I grown 
 To fuch a poor Refpec^l:, or do you mean 
 To break my Wind .'' Speak, fpeak, fome one of you, 
 Cr elfe by Heav'n, — i Gent, So plcafe your 
 
 Arb. Monftrous, 
 I cannot be heard out, they cut me off. 
 As if I were too faucy. I will live 
 In Woods, and talk to Trees, they will allow me 
 To end what I begin. The meaneft Subjedl 
 Can find a Freedom to difcharge his Soul, 
 And not I ; now it is a Time to fpeak -, 
 I hearken, i Gent. May it pleafe ■ 
 
 Arb. I mean not you. 
 
 Did not I flop you once } (6) but I am grown 
 
 To 
 
 (6) ________ /;«/ I am gronjun 
 
 To balk, but I defie, let another fpeak.'\ The flagrant Non- 
 fenfe of this Paflage made me look upon it as one of the Loci defpe- 
 rati in our Authors ; and irretrievable by Conjefture, as none of the 
 Copies lend the leaft Light to clear it up. If I have made fome to- 
 lerable Emendations thro' the Work, I would give the Merit of them 
 all up, to have been the Mafler of that Corre(f\ion which the Snga- 
 ciiy of fvlr. Sei<:ard has Ihcwn in rclloring the undifputcd Senfe of our 
 Authors. 
 
 but 
 
i88 A Kingy and No Kwg, 
 
 To talk but idly ; let another fpeak. 
 
 2 Gent. I hope your Maitity . 
 
 Arb. Thou drawl'ft thy Words, 
 That I muft wait an Hour, where other Men 
 Can hear in Inftants ; throw your \v'ords away. 
 Quick, and to purpofc ; I iiave told you this. 
 
 Bef. An plcafe your Majtfly, 
 
 Arb. Wilt thou devour me ? this is fuch a Rudenefs 
 As yet you never fhew*d me, and I want 
 Pow'r to command too, elfe Mardonius 
 "Would fpeak at my Requeft; were you my King, 
 I would have anfwer'd at your Word, Mardonius ; 
 I pray you fpeak, and truely, did I boail ? 
 
 Mar. Truth will offend you. 
 
 Arb. You take all great Care 
 
 but I 
 
 am ^roivn 
 
 To talk iut idley; /. e. neither to be attended to, nor obe/d. 
 I am proud here to fubjoin the Gentleman's Note. 
 
 " As it may be fome Entertainment to the curious Reader to fee 
 ** an humble Critick poring in the Dark, if he by that means has at 
 " laft open'd the Door to Day-light, I will give the Procefs of this 
 " Emendation. Every one mull fee, that the Text, as it flood, was 
 " abfolutely Nonfenfe : and Mr. Theobald inform'd me, that it has 
 " flood fo through all the Editions : and, not having hit upon any 
 *' Emendation himfelf, he had look'd upon it as one of the Loci dcf- 
 " perati of our Authors. It is eafy to obferve, that the Senfe re- 
 ** quired mull be cither, thai I am gron.vn not to ha've ivhat I fay ob- 
 " fer^''d- or, to ha've my Will contradidcd in every thing. 1 had 
 *• advanc'd feveral Conjedlures, but they departed too much from the 
 •' Traces of the Letters. In rejedling them, therefore, I obicrv'd, 
 " that had any of them been clear, as to the Senfe ; yet they made 
 *' a Syllable too much in the Verfe. Nothing is fo great an Aflillance 
 " in retrieving the Senfe, as a due Attendance to the Metre; for a 
 •' redundant Syllable having crept into the former Reading, one may 
 " eafily fee that it mod probably was in the Words ; / dcfie, that be- 
 *' ing evidently a Corruption. The Word, therefore, that I have hit 
 " upon, gives the full J dea required; and fuppofe, //(^i?, to have been 
 ** written with a final ^ inllead of ie, it drops only one Vowel, and 
 " changes an f into an /." Mr. Se-ward. 
 
 In fupport of this beautiful Emendation, I will obferve, that the 
 King, in the next Page, inculcates the fame Meaning, tho' in difFe- 
 rent Words. 
 
 ■ Why, here they JJand like Death ; 
 
 My Words move nothing. 
 
 What 
 
A King-, a7id No King. 189 
 
 What will offend me, when you dare to utter 
 Such Things as thtfe. 
 
 Mar. You told Tigranes, you had won his Land, 
 With that fole Arm prop'd by Divinity : 
 Was not that Bragging, and a Wrong to us, 
 That daily ventur'd lives ? 
 
 Arb. O tliat thy Name 
 Were great as mine! 'would, I had paid my Wealth, 
 It were as great, that I might combate thee ! 
 I would, through all the Regions habitable, 
 Search thee, and, having found thee, wi' my Sword 
 Drive thee about the World, 'till I had met 
 Some Place that yet Man's Curiofity 
 Hath mifs'd of; there, there would I flrike thee dead : 
 Forgotten of Mankind -, fuch Funeral Rites 
 As beafts would give thee, thou fliouldfl have. 
 
 Bef. The King 
 Rages extreamly, fhall we (link away ? 
 He'll ftrike us, i Gent. Content. 
 
 Jrb. There I would make you know, 'twas this fole Arm. 
 I grant, you were my Inftruments, and did 
 As I commanded you, but 'twas this Arm 
 Mov'd you like Wheels, it mov'd you as it pleas'd. 
 Whither flip you now? what, are you too good ^ 
 To wait on me, Puffe ? I had need have Temper, 
 That rule fuch People ; I have nothing left 
 At my own Choice; I would, I might be private: 
 Mean Men enjoy themfelves, but 'tis our Curie, 
 To have a Tumult that out of their Loves 
 Will wait on us, whether we will or no ; 
 Will you be gone? Why, here they ftand like Death, 
 My Words move nothing, i Gent. Muft we go ? 
 
 Bef. I know not. 
 
 Arb. I pray you, leave me. Sirs ; Pm proud of this. 
 That you will be intreated from my Sight : 
 
 [Exeunt all hut Arb. and Mar. 
 Why, now they leave me all : Mardonius — Mar. Sir. 
 
 Arb. What, will you leave me quite alone? methinks. 
 Civility fliould teach you more than this ; 
 If I were but your Friead, — Stay here, and wait. 
 
 Mar, 
 
190 A Ki/igy and No Kwa-, 
 
 Mar. Sir, fhall I fpeak ? 
 
 yli-b. Why, you would now think much 
 To be denied, but I can fcarcc intreat 
 "What I would have : Do, fpeak. 
 
 Mar. But will you hear me out ? 
 
 Arb. You article with me, to talk thus : Well, 
 I'll hear you out. A'lar. Sir, that I have ever lov'd you. 
 My Sword hath fpoken for me; that I do. 
 If it*be doubted, I dare call an Oath, 
 A great one to my Witnefs ; and were you not 
 My King, from amongft Men, I fhould have chofe 
 You out to love above the reft ; nor can 
 This challenge Thanks ; for jny own fake I fhould have 
 Done it, becaufe I would have lov'd the moft 
 Deferving Man-, for fo you are. 
 
 Arb. Alas ! Mardonius^ rife, you fliall not kneel ; 
 "We all are Soldiers, and all venture Lives : 
 And where there is no Difference in Mens Worths, 
 Titles are Jeafts. Who can outvalue thee ? 
 Mardojiius, thou haft lov'd me, and haft Wrong •, 
 Thy Love is not rewarded ; but believe. 
 It fhall be better; more than Friend in Anns, 
 My Father, and my l\itor, good Mardonius. 
 
 Mar. Sir, you did promife, you would hear me out. 
 
 Arb. And fo I will ; fpeak freely, for from thee 
 Nothing can come, but worthy Things and true. 
 
 Mar. Though you have all this Worth, you hold fome 
 Qualities 
 That do eclipfe your Virtues. 
 
 Arb. Eclipfe my Virtues? Mar. Yes, your PafTions ; 
 Which are fo manifold, that they appear even in this : 
 When I commend you, you hug me for that Truth -, 
 But when I fpeak your Faults, you make a Start, 
 (7) And fly the Hearing out. 
 
 Arb. When you commend me ? O, that I fliould live 
 To need fuch Commendations ! If my Deeds 
 
 (7) And fly the Hearing but.] This Particle feems to have rio Right 
 to ftand here; we muft, to make Senfe, fublUtute out in its Place. 
 
 Mr. Sympfon. 
 
 And fo I had corrcfted the Paffage long ago. 
 
 Blew 
 
A King^ mid No King, 191 
 
 Blew not my Pralfe themfclves about the Earth, 
 I were mod wretched : Spare your idle Pi-aife : 
 If thou did'ft mean to flatter, and lliould'fl utter 
 Words in my Praife, that diou thought' ft Impudence, 
 My Deeds lliould make 'em modeft : When you praife, 
 I hug you ? 'tis fo falfe, that wert thou worthy 
 Thou fhould'ft receive a Death, a glorious Death 
 From me : but thou flialt undei-ftand thy Lyes, 
 For fhould'ft thou praife me into Heav'n, and there 
 Leave me inthron'd, I would defpife thee then 
 As much as now, which is as much as Duft, 
 Becaufe I fee thy Envy. 
 
 Mar. However you will ufe me after, yet for your own 
 Promile fake, hear me the reft. 
 
 Arh. I will, and after call unto the Winds, 
 For they fliall lend as large an Ear as I 
 To what you utter : Speak. 
 
 Mar. Would you but leave thefe hafty Tempers, which 
 I do not fay take from you all your Worth, 
 (8) But darken it, then you will fhine indeed. 
 
 Arb. Well. 
 
 Mar. Yet I would have you keep fome Pafllons, left 
 Men ftiould take you for a God, your Virtues are fuch. 
 
 Arb. Why, now you flatter. 
 
 Mar. I never underftood the Word. Were you no 
 King, and free from thefe Moods, ftiould I chufe a 
 Companion for Wit and Pleafure, it fhould be you j or 
 for Honefly to enterchange my Bofom with, it Ihould be 
 you ; or Wifdom to give me Counfel, I would pick out 
 you ; or Valour to defend my Reputation, flnll I ftiould 
 find out you ; for you are fit to fight for all the World, 
 if it could come in Queftion : Now I have fpoke, conftder 
 to yourfelf, find out a Ufe ; if fo, then what fhaU fall to 
 me is not material. 
 
 Arb. Is not material ? more than ten fuch Lives 
 As mine, Mardonius : It was nobly faid. 
 Thou haft fpoke Truth, and boldly fuch a Truth 
 
 (8) nvhicb 1 do vot fay take from you all your Worth, but darken 'em,] 
 Worth being a Subftantive of the Singular Number, we mull certainly 
 rcid ;■/, inllead of 'tm. Mr. Symp/on. 
 
 As 
 
192 A Kingy a?td No Kiiig. 
 
 As might offend another, I have been 
 
 Too pafTionate and idle, thou fhalt fee 
 
 A fwift Amendment, but I want thofe Parts 
 
 You praife me for : I fight for all the World ? 
 
 (9) Give thee a Sword, and thou wilt go as far 
 
 Beyond me, as thou art beyond in Years, 
 
 I know, thou dar'ft and wilt; it troubles me 
 
 That I Ihould ufe fo rough a Phrafe to thee. 
 
 Impute it to my Folly, what thou wilt. 
 
 So thou wilt pardon me : that thou and I 
 
 Should differ thus ! Mar. Why, 'tis no matter, Sir. 
 
 Arh. Faith, but it is ; but thou doft ever take 
 All things Ido, thus patiently; for which 
 I never can requite thee, but with Love, 
 And that thou fhalt be fure of. Thou and I 
 Have not been merry lately : Pray thee, tell me 
 Where had' ft thou that fame Jewel in thine Ear ? 
 
 Mar. Why, at the taking of a Town. 
 
 Arh, A Wench, upon my Life, a Wench, Mardonius, 
 gave thee that Jewel. 
 
 Mar. Wench! they refped not me, I'm old and 
 rough, and every Limb about me, but that which fhould, 
 grows llifi'er ; i'diofe Bufinelfes, I may fwear, I am tnily 
 honeft : For I pay juftly for what I take, and would be 
 glad to be at a Certainty. 
 
 jirb. Why, do the Wenches encroach upon thee ? 
 - Mar. Ay, by this Light, do they. 
 • Arb. Did'ft thou fit at an old Rent with 'em ? 
 
 Mar. Yes, faith. 
 
 Arh. And do they improve themfelves ^ 
 
 Mar. Ay, ten Shillings to me, every new young Fellow 
 they come acquainted with. 
 
 Arh. How can'll live on't ? 
 
 Mar. Why, I think, I mull petition you. 
 
 Arh. Thou Ihalt take them up at my Price. 
 
 (9) Gi've me a S^j:o>-d, and thou tvilt go as Jar 
 
 Beyond me,'] The whole Turn of the Sentence plainly requires 
 an Alteration of Me into Thee, as Mr. Se^'ard pointed out to me j 
 .ind his Conjedlure is authoriz'd by the three ^arto'^ in i6ig, 1631, 
 and 1676. 
 
 Efiter 
 
A King J and No King, 193 
 
 Enter two Gentlemen y and BefTus. 
 
 Mar. Your Price? Arh. Ay, the King's Price. 
 Mar. That may be more than I'm worth, 
 2 Gent, Is he not merry now ? 
 I Gent. I think not. 
 
 Bef. He is, he is : we'll fliew ourfelves. 
 jirb. Bejfus^ I thought you had been in Iberia by this, I 
 bad you halle ; Gohrias will want Entertainment for me. 
 Bef. An pleafe your Majefly, I have a Suite.j 
 Arb, Is't not loufy, Beffus., what is't ? 
 Bef. I am to carry a Lady with me. 
 Arb. Then thou haft two Suites. 
 Bef. And if I can prefer her to the Lady Panthea your 
 Majefty's Sifter, to learn Fafhions, as her Friends term it, 
 it will be worth fomething to me. 
 
 Arb. So many Nights* Lodgings as 'ris thither, will' t not? 
 Bef. I know not that. Sir, but Gold I fhall be furc of. 
 Arb. Why, thou ftialt bid her entertain her from me, 
 fo diou wilt refolve me one thing. 
 Bef If I can. 
 
 Arb. Faith, 'tis a very difputable Queftion, and yet, I 
 think, thou can'ft decide it. 
 
 Bef Your Majefty has a good Opinion of my Under- 
 ftanding. 
 
 Arb. I have fo good an Opinion of it : 'Tis, whether 
 thou be valiant. 
 
 Bef. Somebody has traduced me to you : Do you fee 
 this Sword, Sir? 
 Arb. Yes. 
 
 Bef. If I do not make my Back-biters eat it to a Kuife 
 within this Week, fay, I am not valiant; 
 
 Enter a Mejfenger. 
 
 Mef Heakh to your Majefty ! 
 Arb. From Gobrias? Mef Yes, Sir. 
 Arb. How does he, is he well? 
 Mef In perfed Health. 
 
 Arb. Take that for thy good News. A truftier Servant 
 to his Prince there lives not, than is good Gobrias, 
 Vol. I. O I Cent, 
 
194 ^ Ki?jg^ and No King. 
 
 ^ 1 Gent. The King darts back. 
 
 Mar. His Blood goes back as faft. 
 
 2 Gent. And now it comes again. 
 
 Mar. He akers Itrangciy. 
 
 Arb. The Hand of Heaven is on me \ be it far 
 From me to flruggle ! (lo) If my fecret Sins 
 Have puU'd this Curfe upon me, lend me Tears 
 Enow to wafh me white, that I may feel 
 A Child-like Innocence within my Bread ; 
 Which once perform'd, O give me Leave to Hand 
 As fix'd as Conftancy herfelf j my Eyes 
 Set here unmov'd, regardlefs of the World, 
 Though thoufand Miferies incompafs me. 
 
 Mar. This is ftrange. Sir, how do you ? 
 
 Arb. Mardcnius, my Mother — Mar. Is Hie dead r 
 
 Arb. Alas, fhe's not fo happy •, thou doft know 
 How fhe hath laboured, fince my Father died. 
 To take by Trealbn hence this loathed Life, 
 That wou'd but be to ferve her. I have pardon'd. 
 And pardon'd, and by that have made her fit 
 To pradlife new Sins, not repent the old : 
 ( 1 1 ) She now had hired a Slave to come from thence, 
 And flrike me here, whom Gobrias, fifting out. 
 Took, and condemned, and executed there. 
 The careful'll Servant ! Heav'n, let me but live 
 To pay that Man j Nature is poor to me. 
 That will not let me have as many Deaths 
 As are the Times that he hath fav'd my Life, 
 That I might die 'em over all for him. 
 
 Mar. Sir, let her bear her Sins on her own Head ; 
 
 ( I o) ■ i/ my fecret Sins 
 
 Hi^'ve pulPd this Curfe upon me, lend me Tears 
 Now to avafh me luhite, that 1 mayfeel'\ The Defedl of the 
 Metre at the beginning of the third Verfe plainly demonftrates a De- 
 feft in the Sen fe. I have rellor'd the true Reading from the oldell 
 ^tarto in i6ig. 
 
 (i i) She noiu had flirr'd a Slanie to come from thence. 
 
 And flrike me here ;] Stirrd is not abfolute Nonfenfe, becaufe 
 it may fignify, moved, prevail" d upon ^ egg d on to do a thing ; but as 
 hired is authoriz'd by the oldell ^arto, 1 have adopted it as the more 
 eligible and eafy Word. 
 
 » Vex 
 
A King^ and No King. ig^ 
 
 Vex not yourfclf. Arb. What will the World 
 
 Conceive of me ? with what unnatural Sins 
 
 Will they fuppole me loaden, when my Life 
 
 Is fought by her, that gave it to the World ? 
 
 But yet he writes me Comfort here ; my Sifter, 
 
 He fays, is grown in Beauty and in Grace, 
 
 In all the innocent Virtues that become 
 
 A tender fpotlefs Maid : ( 1 2) (lie ftains her Cheeks 
 
 With mourning Tears, to purge her Mother's III, 
 
 And 'mongft that facrcd Dew Ihe mingles Pray'rs, 
 
 Her pure Oblations, for my fafe Return. 
 
 If I have loft the Duty of a Son, 
 
 If any Pomp or Vanity of State 
 
 Made me forget my Natural Offices ; 
 
 Nay, farther, if I have not every Night 
 
 Expoftulated with my wand'ring Thoughts, 
 
 If aught unto my Parent they have err'd. 
 
 And call'd 'em back: (13) Do you direA her Arm 
 
 Unto this foul diflcmbling Heart of mine : 
 
 But if I have been juft to her, fend out 
 
 Your Pow'r to compafs me, and hold me fafe 
 
 From fearching Treafon ; I will ufe no Means, 
 
 But Prayer: for rather fuffer me to fee 
 
 From mine own Veins iflue a deadly Flood, 
 
 Than wafti my Danger off with Mother's Blood. 
 
 Mar, I never faw fuch fudden Extremities. [Exeunt, 
 
 Enter Tigranes and Spaconia. 
 
 Tigr. Why? wilt thou have me die, Spaconia^ 
 What fhould I do ? Spa. Nay, let me ftay alone, 
 
 (12) ' Jhe ftains her Cheeks 
 
 With morning Tears, to purge her Mother'* s Illi] But why 
 morning Tears ? Are they more effeftive and prevalent than thofc 
 ihed in tne E'vening, or at Midnight ? The ingenious Mr. Sympfon, 
 prefcrib'd mourning to me, -. e. Tears of real Grief: And his Con- 
 jedture is fupported by the three ^larto's in 1 619, 1631, and 1676. 
 
 (13) . Do you dire SI her Jrm 
 
 Unto this foul dijfembliug Heart of mine. '\ Who is to dire£l her 
 Arm? The Gods, I luppofe, mufl be meant ; but they are neither 
 invoked, nor mention'd. This is a bold Elleipjis; but yet not infre- 
 quent with our Poets. Mr. Sympfon. 
 
 O 2 And 
 
196 A King^ and No King. 
 
 And v/hcn you fee Armenia again, 
 You fhall behold a Tomb more worth than I ; 
 Some Friend, that either loves me or my Cau(e, 
 Will build me fomething to diftinguifh me 
 From other Women •, many a weeping Verfe 
 He will lay on, and much lament thofe Maids, 
 That plac'd their Loves unfortunately high, 
 As I have done, where they can never reacli. 
 But why fhould you go to Iberia ? 
 
 ^igr. Alas, that thou wilt ask me ! ask the Man, 
 That rages in a Fever, why he lies 
 Diftcmper'd there, when all the other Youths 
 Are courfing o'er the Meadows with their Loves ? 
 Can I refift it ? am I not a Slave 
 
 To him that conquer'd me ? Spa. That conquer'd thee^ 
 Tigranes ! He has won but half of thee. 
 Thy Body; but thy Mind may be as free 
 As his^ his Will did never combate thine. 
 And take it Prifoner. 1'igr. But if he by Force 
 Convey my Body hence, what helps it me. 
 Or thee, to be unwilling ? Spa. O Tigranes^ 
 I know, you are to fee a Lady there. 
 To fee, and like, I fear : perhaps, the Hope 
 Of her makes you forget me, e'er we part ; 
 Be happier than you know to wifh ; farcwel f 
 
 ligr. Spaconia, ftay, and hear me what I fay. 
 In fhort, Deftru6lion meet me that I may 
 See it, and not avoid it, when I leave 
 To be thy faithful Lover ! part with me 
 Thou fhalt not, there are none that know our Love ; 
 And I have given Gold unto a Captain, 
 That goes unto Iberia from the King, 
 That he v/ill place a Lady of our Land 
 With the King's Sifter that is ofFer'd mc; 
 Thither fhall you, and, being once got in, 
 Perfuade her by what fubtle Means you can 
 To be as backward in her Love as L 
 
 Spa. Can you imagine that a longing Maid, 
 When fhe beholds you, can be pull'd away 
 With Words from loving you? 
 
 ^igr. 
 
A Kiiig^ and No Kmg. 197 
 
 ^igr. DiJpraife my Health, 
 My ilonefty, and teil her I am jealous. 
 
 Spa. Why, 1 had rather lole you : Can my Heart 
 Confent to let my Tongue throw out fuch \\ ord§? 
 And I, that ever yet fpoke what I thought. 
 Shall find it fuch a Thing at firit to lie. 
 
 Tigr. Yet do thy bell. 
 
 Enter Beflus. 
 
 Bef. What, is your Majcfty ready ? 
 
 Tigr. There is the Lady, CaptairL 
 
 Bef. Sweet Lady, by your Leave ; I could wifli myfclf 
 more full of Courtfliip for your fair Sake. 
 
 Spa. Sir, I fhall feel no Want of that. 
 
 Bef. Lady, you mull hade; I have receiv'd new Let- 
 ters from the King, tliat require more Hade than I ex- 
 p:6led ; he will follow me fuddenly himlelf, and begins to 
 call for your Majcfty already. 
 
 Tigr. He Ihall not do fo long. 
 
 Bef. Sweet Lady, fhall I call you my Charge hereafter ? 
 
 Spa. I will not take upon me to govern your Tongue ; 
 Sir, you fhall call me what you pleafe. 
 
 A C T II. S C E N E I. 
 
 Enter Gobrias, Bacurius, Arane, Panthea, and Mandane, 
 Waiting-women with Attendants. 
 
 Gobrias. 
 
 IWr Y Lord Bacurius, you muft have Regard 
 ^^^ Unto the Queen, flie is your Prifoner ; 
 'Tis at your Peril, if flie make Efcape. 
 
 Bac. My Lord, I know't, flie is my Prifoner, 
 From you committed •, yet flie is a Woman ; 
 And fo I keep her fafe, you will not urge me 
 To keep her clofe, I fhall not fliame to fay 
 I forrow for her. Gob. So do I, my Lord ; 
 
 O 3 I foiTOW 
 
198 A^ King^ and No King, 
 
 I forrow for her, that fo little Grace 
 
 Doth govern her j that fhe fhould llretch her Arm 
 
 Againft her King ; fo httle Womanliood 
 
 And natural Goodnefs, as to think the Death 
 
 Of her own Son, Ara, Thou know'ft the Reafon why, 
 
 Diffembhng as thou art, and wilt not fpeak. 
 
 Goh. There is a Lady takes not after you, 
 Her Father is within her ; that good Man, 
 Whofe Tears weigh'd down liis Sins. Mark, how fhe 
 How well it does become her -, and if you [weeps. 
 
 Can find no Difpofition in yourfelf 
 To Sorrow, yet by GracefuUnr fs in her 
 Find out the way, and by your Reafon weep : 
 All this fhe does for you, and more fhe needs. 
 When for yourfelf you will not lofe a Tear ; 
 Think, how this Want of Grief difcredits you. 
 And you will weep, becaufe you cannot weep, 
 
 Ara. You talk .to me, as having got a Time 
 Fit for your Purpofe ; but you know, I know 
 You fpeak not what you think. Fan. I would my Heart 
 Were Stone, before my Softnefs fhould be urg'd 
 Againft my Mother ! A more troubled Thought 
 No Virgin bears about ; fhould I excufe 
 My Mother's Fault, I fliould fet light a Life, 
 In lofing which a Brother and a King 
 Were taken from me ; if I feek to fave 
 That Life fo lov'd, I lofe another Life 
 That gave me Being ♦, I fhall lofe a Mother ; 
 A Word of fuch a Sound in a Child's Ears, 
 That it flrikes Reverence through it ; May the Will 
 Of Heav'n be done, and if One needs muft fall. 
 Take a poor Virgin's Life to anfwer all ! 
 
 Ara. But, Gobrias^ let us talk ; you know, this Fault 
 Is not in me as in another Mother. 
 
 Gob. I know, it is not. Ara. Yet you make. it h. 
 
 Gob. Why, is not all that's paft beyond your Help ? 
 
 Ara. 1 Icnow, it is. 
 
 Gob. Nay, fhould you publiHi it before the World, 
 Xliink you, 'twould be believ'd .'' 
 
 Ara. I know, it would not, 
 
A King^ and No Ki?tg, 199 
 
 (14) Gob. Nay, fhould I join wi' you, fhould we both be 
 Yet fliould we not both die uncredited ? [fworn, 
 
 ylra. I think, we fhould. 
 
 Gob. Why then take you fuch violent Courfes ? As 
 for me, I do but Right in faving of the King from all 
 your Plots. 
 
 Ara. The King ? 
 
 Gob. I bad you refl with Patience, and a Time 
 Would come for me to reconcile all to 
 Your own Content, but by this way you take 
 Away my Pow'r •, and what was done unknown. 
 Was not by me but you : Your urging being done 
 I muft preferve my own, but Time may bring 
 All this to Light, and happily for all. 
 
 Ara. Accurfed be this over-curious Brain, 
 That gave that Plot a birth ! Accurft this Womb, 
 That after did conceive to my Difgrace ! 
 
 Bac. My Lord Protestor, they fay, there are divers 
 Letters come from Armenia, that Bejfus has done good 
 Service, and brought again a Day by his particular Va- 
 lour; receiv'd you any to that Eifeft .'' 
 
 Gob. Yes, 'tis moft certain. 
 
 Bac. I'm forry for't ; not that the Day was won. 
 But that 'twas won by him •, we held him here 
 A Coward : He did me Wrong once, at which I laugh'd. 
 And fo did all the World -, for neither I, 
 Nor any other, held him worth my Sword. 
 
 Enter BelTus and Spaconia. 
 Bef. Health to my Lord Protedor ; from the King 
 
 (14) A/^zv, Jhould I join nvith you, Jkould ix:e not both be torn, and 
 yet both die uncredited?'\ I can'c think, this Word came from the 
 Poets, or was defic^n'd by them to ftand for tortured; neither do I 
 know how to apply an healing Hand to the Text, unlefs we tranfpofe 
 and read thus. 
 
 — ~^—~ Jhould iL-e both be Jvjorn, 
 
 Yet Jhould not njje both die uncredited? Mr. Sympjon] 
 
 My Friend does not feem much to like his Conjcdure : But as the 
 Paflage is certainly corrupted without it, and as it retrieves plain 
 Senfe, I have ventured to infert it ; and, I am verily perfuaded, it 
 will not do him any Difcredit. 
 
 O 4 Thefe 
 
200 A Kmgy and No Kwg, 
 
 Thefe Letters ; and to your Grace, Madam, thefc. 
 
 Gob. How does his Majefty ? 
 
 Bef. As well as Conqueft by his own Means and his 
 valiant Commanders can make him j your Letters will 
 tell you all. 
 
 Pan. I will not open mine, till I do know 
 My Brother's Health : Good Captain, is he well ? 
 
 Bef. As the reft of us that fought are. 
 
 Pan. But how's tliat ? is he hurt ? 
 
 Bef. He's a ftrange Soldier, that gets not a Knock. 
 
 Pan. I do not ask how ftrange that Soldier is 
 That gets no Hurt, but whether he have one. 
 
 Bef He had divers. Pan. And is he well again? 
 
 Bef Well again, an't pleafe your Grace? Why, I was 
 run twice through the Body, and Ihot i' th' Head with a 
 Crofs-arrow, and yet am well again. 
 
 Pan. I do not care how thou do'ft, is he well ? 
 
 Bef Not care how I do ? Let a Man out of the 
 Mightinefs of his Spirit fruflify foreign Countries with 
 his Blood for the Good of his own, and thus he fhall be 
 anfwered : Why, I may live to relieve with Spear and 
 Shield fuch a Lady as you diftrefted. 
 
 Pan. Why, I will care ; I'm glad that thou art well ; 
 I prithee, is he fo ? 
 
 Gob. The King is well, and will be here To-morrow. 
 
 Pan. My Prayer is heard, now will I open mine. 
 
 Gob. Bacurius, I muft eafe you of your Charge : 
 Madam, the wonted Mercy of the King, 
 That overtakes your Fauks, has met with this. 
 And ftruck it out •, he has forgiven you freely ; 
 Your own Will is your Law, be where you pleafe. 
 
 j^ra. I thank him. [morrow? 
 
 Gob. You will be ready to wait upon his Majefty To- 
 Jira. I will. [Exii Arane. 
 
 Bac. Madam, be wife hereafter; I am glad I have loft 
 this Office. 
 
 Gcb. Good Captain Beffus^ tell us the Difcourfe betwixt 
 digrams and our King, and how we got the Vidlory. 
 
 Pan. I prithee do, and if my Brother were 
 jb any Danger, let not thy Tale make him 
 
 Abide 
 
A Kmgy a?id No King, 201 
 
 Abide there long, before thou bring him otf ; 
 For all that while my Heart will beat. 
 
 Bef. Madam, let what will beat, I mufl: tell the Truth, 
 and thus it was j they fought fingle in Lifts, but one to 
 one; As for my own Part, I was dangeroudy hurt but 
 three Days before, clfe, perhaps, we had been two to two ; 
 I cannot tell, fome thought, we had ; and the Occafion of 
 my Hurt was this, the Enemy had made Trenches — 
 
 Gob. Captain, without the Manner of your Hurt be 
 much material to this Bufinefs, we'U hear't fome other 
 Time. 
 
 Pan. I prithee, leave it, and go on with my Brother. 
 
 Bef. I will, but 'twould be worth your Hearing: (15) 
 To the Lifts they came, and fingle Sword and Target 
 was their Fight. 
 
 Pan. Alas ! 
 
 Bef. Without the Lifts there ftood fome dozen Cap- 
 tains of either fide mingled, all whicli were fworn, and 
 one of thofe was I : And 'twas my Chance to ftand next 
 a Captain o' th' Enemies' fide, called Tirihafus \ Valiant, 
 they faid, he was •, whiift.thefe two Kings were ftretching 
 thcmfelves, this Tiribafus caft fomething a fcomful Look 
 on me, and ask'd me who I thought would overcome ; 
 I fmil'd, and told him, if he would fight with me, he 
 ftiould perceive by the Event of that whofe King would 
 
 (15) To the Lijis they Carney and Jingle SivorJ and Gantlet *y«/ 
 their Fight.] I know, in all Ages of the World, that Soldiers had a 
 Steel Glove, or Gantlet, to defend the Back of their Hands from the 
 Cuts of a broad Sword; but, furely, this is an odd Word for a Weapon 
 of War ; and for two Combatants to fight with their Gloves on, was 
 no great fign of Courage or Dexterity. A Target, (as I fufpeft, 
 the original Word to have been) gracefully and artfully managed, was 
 a Defence for the whole Body. 
 
 So the Words are again join'd in The Mad Lover. 
 
 This Fellonv, 
 
 M'ith all his Frights about him and his Furietf 
 His Larums, and his Lances, Swords, and Targets, ^c. 
 And fo wc find in The Coronation . 
 
 Enter Seleucus and Arcadius at fe^veral Doors ; their Paget 
 be/ore thentt bearing their Targets. 
 
 Mr. Sympfon. 
 
 win : 
 
20 2 A Kinor^ and No Kinv, 
 
 win: Something he anfwered, and a Scuffle was like to 
 grow, .when one Zipetus offered to help him, I . 
 
 Pan. All this is of thyfclf; I pray thqe, Bejfus^ 
 Tell fomething of my Brother, did he nothing ? 
 
 Bef. Why, yes, I'll tell your Grace, they were not to 
 fight till the Word given, which for my own Part, by 
 my troth, I confefs, I was not to give. 
 
 Pan. See, for his own Part. 
 
 Bac. I fear yet, this Fellow's abus'd with a good Report. 
 
 Bef. But I 
 
 Pan. Still of himfelf. 
 
 Bef. Cry'd, give the Word, when, as fome of them 
 fay, Tigranes was {looping ; but the Word was not given 
 then •, yet one Cofroes, of the Enemies* part, held up his 
 Finger to me, which is as much with us Martialifts, as 
 I will fight with you : I faid not a W^ord, nor made 
 Sign during the Combat, but that once done — 
 . Pan. He flips o'er all the Fight. 
 
 Bef I call'd him to me, Cofroes, faid I,—— 
 
 Pan. I will hear no more. 
 
 Bef No, no, 1 lye. 
 
 Bac. I dare be fworn thou doft. 
 . Bef. Captain, faid I, fo it was. 
 ' Pan. I tell thee, I will hear no further. 
 
 Bef No ? Your Grace will wifh you had. 
 
 Pan. I will not wifh it. What, is this the Lady 
 My Brother writes to me to take ? 
 
 Bef And pleafe your Grace, this is Ihe : Charge, will 
 you come near the Princefs .' 
 
 Pan. You're welcome from your Country, and this Land 
 Shall Ihew unto you all the Kindnefles 
 That I can make it ; what's your Name ? 
 
 Spa. Thalefiris. 
 
 Pan. You're very welcome, you have got a Letter 
 To put you to me, that has Power enough 
 To place mine Enemy here ; then much more you. 
 That are fo far from being fo to me 
 That you ne'er faw me. 
 
 Bef Madam, I dare pafs my Word for her Truth. 
 
 Spa. My Truth? 
 
 Pan* 
 
A King^ and No King, 203 
 
 Pan. Why, Captain, do you think I am afraid fhe'll 
 fteal ? 
 
 Bef. I cannot tell, Servants are flippery, but I dare 
 give my Word for her ; and for Honefty, fhe came along 
 with me, and many Favours Jfhe did me by the way ; 
 but, by this Light, none but wliat flie might do with 
 Modefty, to a Man of my Rank. 
 
 Pan. Why, Captain, here's no Body thinks otherwifc. 
 
 Bef. Nay, if you fhould, your Grace may think your 
 Plcafure ; but I am fure I brought her from Armenki., and 
 in all that way, if ever I touch'd any bare of her above 
 her Knee, I pray God, I may fink where I Hand. 
 
 Spa. Above my Knee ? 
 
 Bef. No, you know, I did not ; and if any Man will 
 fay, I did, this Sword fliall anfwer j Nay, I'll defend the 
 Reputation of my Charge, whilft I Jive: Your Grace 
 ihall underfland, I am fecret in thefe Bufinefles ; and know 
 how to defend a Lady's Honour. 
 
 Spa. I hope, your Grace knows him {o well already, 
 I fhall not need to tell you he's vain and foolifh. 
 
 Bef Ay, you may call me what you pleafe, but 1*11 
 defend your good Name againft the World j and fo I 
 take my Leave of your Grace, and of you my Lord 
 Protedtor ; I am likewife glad to fee your Lordfhip well. 
 
 Bac. O Captain Beffiis., I thank you, I would ipeak 
 with you anon. 
 
 Bef When you pleafe, I will attend your Lordfhip. 
 
 Bac. Madam, I'll take my Leave too. 
 
 Pan. Good Bacurius ! [Exeunt Bef and Bac. 
 
 . Golf. Madam, what writes his Majefty to you ? 
 
 Pan. O my Lord, 
 The kindcft Words, I'll keep 'em whilft I Jive, 
 Here in my Bofom ; there's no Art in *em, 
 They lie difordered in this Paper, juft 
 As hearty Nature fpeaks *em. (16) Gob. And to me 
 
 (16) — And to me 
 
 lie ivrites, nuhat Tean of Joy he fl:>ed, to hear 
 H01V you luere groivn in ev'ry Virtue'/ Way'\ The ingenious 
 Mr. ^yrnpfon conjeftured to me, tiiat it fliould be, 'virtuous Way : And 
 this is confirm'd by the Authority of the old ^arto in 1619. 
 
 He 
 
j304 -^ J^^ng^ a^id No King. 
 
 He writes, what Tears of Joy iie (hed to liear 
 How you were grown in every virtuous Way, 
 And yields all Thanks to me, for that dear Car<r 
 Which I was bound to have in Training you. 
 There is no Princefs living that enjoys 
 A Brother of that Worth. — 
 
 Fan, My Lord, no Maid longs more for any thing. 
 And feels more Heat and Cold within Jier Brcaft, 
 Than I do now, in hopes to fee him. 
 
 Goh. Yet I wonder much 
 At this he writes, he brings along with him 
 A Husband for you, that fame Captive Prince -, 
 And if he loves you, as he makes a Shew, 
 He will allow you Freedom in your Choice. 
 
 Pan. And fo he will, my Lx)rd, I warrant you. 
 He will but offer, and give me the Power 
 To take or leave. Gob. Trufl me, were I a Lady, 
 I could not like that Man were bargain 'd with 
 Before I chofe him. Pan. But I am not built 
 On fuch wild Humours, if I find him worthy. 
 He is not lefs becaufe he's offered. 
 ■ Spa. 'Tis true, he is not; 'would, he would feem Itis! 
 
 Goh. I think, there is no Lady can affc(5l 
 Another Prince, your Brother Handing by ; 
 He doth eclipfe Men's Virtues fo with his. 
 
 Sfa. 1 know a Lady may, and, more I fear. 
 Another Lady will. Pan. 'Would, I might fee him? 
 
 Goh. Why fo you fhall, my Bufmeffes are great, 
 I will attend you when it is his Pleafure to fee you. 
 
 Pan, I thank you, good my Lord. 
 
 Goh. You will be ready. Madam ? \Exit Gob. 
 
 Pan. Yes. 
 
 S-pa. I do befeech you. Madam, fend away 
 Your other Women, and receive from me 
 A few fad Words, which, let againft your Joys, 
 May make *em Ihine the more. 
 
 Pan. Sirs, leave me all. {Exeunt Women, 
 
 Spa. I kneel a Stranger here to beg a Thing 
 Unfit for me to ask, and you to grant •, 
 'Tis fuch another ftrange ill-laid Requeft, 
 
 As 
 
A King^ a?id No KtTig, 205 
 
 As if a Beggar Hiould intreat a King 
 To leave his Scepter and his Throne to him. 
 And take his Rags to wander o^er the World 
 Hungry and cold. 
 
 Pan. That were a ftrange Requeft. 
 
 Spa. As ill is mine. Pan. Then do not utter it. 
 
 S'pa. Alas, 'tis of that Nature, that it muft 
 Be uttcr'd, ay, and granted, or I die : 
 (17) I am alham'd to fpeak it; but where Life 
 Lies at the Stake, I cannot tliink her Woman, 
 That will not talk fomething unreafonably 
 To hazard faving of it : I fha!l feem 
 A ftrange Petitioner, that wifh all 111 
 To them I beg of, e'er they give me aught ; 
 Yet fo I muft : I would you were not fair. 
 Nor wife, for in your 111 confifts my Good : 
 If you were foolifh, you would hear my Prayer, 
 If foul, you had not Power to hinder me, 
 He would not love you. 
 
 Pan. What's the Meaning of it ? 
 
 Spa. Nay, my Requeft is more without the Bounds 
 Of Reafon yet : For 'tis not in the Pow'r 
 Of you to do, what I would have you grant. 
 
 Pan. Why, then 'tis idle ; pray thee, fpeak it out. 
 
 Spa. Your Brother brings a Prince into this Land, 
 Of fuch a noble Shape, Jib fweet a Grace, 
 So full of Worth withal, that every Maid, 
 That looks upon him, gives away herfelf 
 To him for ever ; and for you to have 
 He brings him : And fo mad is my Demand, 
 That I defire you not to have this Man ; 
 This excellent Man, for whom you needs muft die, 
 
 (17) — — hut ivhere Life 
 
 Lies at the Stake, 1 cannot think her Woman^ 
 
 That <voill not iakt fomething unreafonably 
 
 To hazard fa<ving of it :'\ But what was the Woman to take 
 in this Cafe ? I think, I may venture to fay, I have reftored the ori- 
 ginal Word of the Poets ; My Emendation is confirm'd by what flic 
 lays three Lines above. 
 
 Jlas ! "Tis of that Nature ^ that it muji 
 
 Be utter'd, — — . 
 
 If 
 
2o6 A King^ a?id No King, 
 
 If you fhould mifs liim. I do now expeft. 
 
 You fhould laugh at me. Pan. Truft mc, I could weep 
 
 Rather, for I have found in all thy Words 
 
 A flrange disjointed Sorrow. Spa. 'Tis by me 
 
 His own Defire fo, that you v/ould not love him. 
 
 Fan. His own Defire ! Why credit me, Thalejlris^ 
 I am no common Wooer : If he fhall 
 Wooe me, his Wbrth may be fuch, that I dare 
 Not fwear I will not love him ; but if he 
 Will flay to have me wooe him, I will promife thee 
 He may keep all his Graces to himfelf. 
 And fear no Ravilhing from me. Spa. 'Tis yet 
 His own Defire, but when he fees your Face, 
 I fear, it will not be •, therefore I charge you 
 As you have Pity, flop thofe tender Ears 
 From his enchanting Voice, clofe up thofe Eyes,' 
 That you may neither catch a Dart from him. 
 Nor he from you ; I charge you as you hope 
 To live in Quiet ; for when I am dead , 
 For certain I will walk to vifit him 
 If he break Promife with me : For as fall 
 As Oaths without a formal Ceremony, 
 Can make me, I am to him, 
 
 Pan. Then be fearlefs ; 
 (i8) For if he were a thing 'twixt God and Man, 
 I could gaze on him, if I knew it Sin 
 To love him, without PalTion : Dry your Eyes ; 
 I fwear, you fliall enjoy him flill for me, 
 I will not hinder you ; but I perceive. 
 You are not what you feem ; rife, rife, 'J'halejlris, 
 
 ( 1 8) Fo}- if he 'were a Thing ''tivixt God and Man, 
 
 I could gaze on him ; if I kne^w it Sin 
 
 To lo've him nuithout Pajfion ;] The falfe Pointings have quite 
 fpoil'd the Senfe of this. It certainly is no Sin to love any one with- 
 out Paffion. The Difference, which I have made in the Punftuation, 
 feems to give the proper Meaning of the Poets. /. e. If Ihe knew it 
 a Sin to fall in Love with him, let him be ever fo lovely, fhe could 
 avoid it. The Confidence, with which fhe fpeaks this, is extremely 
 natural, to (hew how little we know our own Weaknefs : For fhe 
 (oon after falls in Love with one, whom Ihe took for her own Brother. 
 
 Mr. Seiuard. 
 
 If 
 
A King^ and No King. 207 
 
 If your right Name be fo. Spa. Indeed, it is not ; 
 
 Spaconia is my Name ; but I defire 
 
 Not to be known to other. Patt. Why, by mc 
 
 You fhall not, I will never do you Wrong ; 
 
 What Good I can, I will : Think not my Birth 
 
 Or Education fuch, that I fliould injure 
 
 A ftranger Virgin -, you are welcome hither ; 
 
 In Company you wifli to be commanded. 
 
 But when we are alone, I fliall be ready 
 
 To be your Servant. [^Exeunt, 
 
 Enter three Men and a IFoman. 
 
 1 Man. Come, come, run, run, run. 
 
 2 Man. We ihall out-go her. 
 
 3 Man. One were better be hang'd, than carry out 
 Women {idling to x.\\df:i Shews. 
 
 IFom. Is the King hard by ? 
 
 1 Alcin. You heard, he with the Bottles faid, he thought 
 we fhould come too late : What abundance of People 
 licre is ? 
 
 IFom. But what had he in thofe Bottles ? 
 3 Man. I know not. 
 
 2 Man. Why, Ink, goodman Fool. 
 
 3 Man. Ink, what to do.'* 
 
 1 Man. Why, the King, look you, will many times 
 call for thcfe Bottles, and break his Mind to liis Friends. 
 
 JVom. Let's take our Places, we fhal Ihave no Room clfe. 
 
 2 Man. The Man told us he would walk o' Foot through 
 the People. 3 Man. Ay, marry, did he. 
 
 1 Man. Our Shops are well look'd to now. 
 
 2 Man. 'Slife, yonder's my Mafter, I think. 
 I Man. No, 'tis not he. 
 
 Enter Philip with two Citizens Wives. 
 
 1 Cit. Lord, how fine the Fields be, what fweet Living 
 'tis in the Country! 
 
 2 Gt. Ay, poor Souls, God help 'em ; they live as 
 contentedly as one of us. 
 
 I Cit. My Husband's Coufin would have had me gone 
 into the Country laft Year j wert thou ever there ^ 
 
 2 Cit. 
 
20 8 A Kingy and No King. 
 
 1 Cit. Ay, poor Souls, I was amongft *em once. 
 
 1 Cit. And what kind of Creatures are they, for Love 
 of God? 
 
 2 Cit. Very good People, God help 'em. 
 
 1 Cit. Wilt tiiou go down with me this Summer when 
 I am brought to Bed ? 
 
 2 Cit. Alas, it is no Place for us. 
 
 1 Cit. Why, pray thee ? 
 
 2 Cit. Why, you ain have nothing there, there's no 
 body cries Brooms. 
 
 1 Cit. No? 
 
 2 Cit. No truly, nor Milk. 
 
 1 Cit. Nor Milk ! how do they ? 
 
 2 Cit^ They are fain to milk themfelves i'th* Country. 
 
 1 Cit. Good Lord ! but the People there, I think, will 
 be very dutiful to one of us. 
 
 2 Cit. Ay, God knows, will they; and yet they do not 
 greatly care for our Husbands. 
 
 I Cit. Do they not ? Alas ! I' good faith, I cannot blame 
 them: For we do not greatly care for them ourfelves, 
 Philip., I pray, chufe us a Place. 
 
 Phil. There's the belt, Forfooth. 
 
 I Cit. By your Leave, good People, a little. 
 
 3 Man. What's the matter ? 
 
 Phil: I pray you, my Friend, do not thruft my Miftrefs 
 fo, fhe's with Child. 
 
 (i 9) 2 Man. Let her look to herfelf then, has Ihe not had 
 Thrufting enough yet ? If fhe ftay fhouldring here, fhe 
 may, haps, go home with a Cake in her Belly. 
 
 3 Man. How now, goodman Squitter-breech, why do 
 you lean on me ? 
 
 Phil. Becaufe I will. 
 
 (19) Let her look to herfelf then, has fhe not had fhowing enough 
 yet?'\ How could fhe \i.z.\tfho'wing enough, when as yet fhe had f'een 
 noching ? The Woman, as we find, was with Child; and the Man, 
 having a mind to be rude upon the Occafion, {■xy^^ has fhe not had 
 thrufting enough? For fo the eldelt ^arto in 16 19 exhibits it : and 
 Philip fays in the preceding Speech, do not thrult my Mijlrefs fo^ f^e's 
 nuith Child. In 1 676, tlie Players, 1 prefurae, had changed this 
 Wcrd lofhoving; and thence came the Corruption oi fioiuing. 
 
 2 Man. 
 
A Klng^ a?id No Kmg, 209 
 
 ^ Man, Will you, Sir Sawce-box ? 
 
 I Cit. Look, if one ha' not flruck Philip -, come hither, 
 Philip ; why did he flrike thee ? 
 
 Phil. For leaning on him. 
 
 I Cit. Why didll thou lean on him ? 
 
 Phil. I did not think he would have (truck me. 
 
 I Cit. As God fave me, la, thou'rt as wild as ^ Buck; 
 there's no Quarrel, but thou'rt at one End or other on't. 
 
 3 Man. It's at the firil: End then, for he'll ne'er flay 
 the lall. 
 
 I Cit. Well, Slip-ftring, I ihall meet with you. 
 
 3 Man. When you will. 
 
 \ Cit. I'll give a Crown to meet with you. 
 
 3 Man. At a Bawdy-houfe. 
 
 I Cit. Ay, you're full of your Roguery •, but if I do 
 meet you, it fhall coft me a Fall. 
 
 Flour i/Jj. Enter one running, 
 
 4 Alan. The King, the King, the King! Now, now, 
 now, now. 
 
 Flourijh. Enter Arbaces, Tigranes, and Mardonius, 
 
 All. God prefer ve your Majefty ! 
 
 Arb. I thank you all, now are my Joys at RilI, 
 When I behold you fafe, my loving Subjefts ; 
 By you I grow, 'tis your united Love 
 That lifts me to this Height: all the Account 
 That I can render you for all the Love 
 You've bellowed on me, all your Expences to 
 Maintain my War, is but a little Word, 
 You will ima^e 'tis flender Payment, yet 'tis fuch a 
 Word) as is not to be bought but with your Bloods, 'tis 
 Peace. 
 
 All. God preferve your Majefty ! 
 
 Arb. Now you may live fecurely i'your Towns, 
 Your Children round about you; you may fit 
 Under your Vines, and make the Miferies 
 Of other Kingdoms a Difcourfe for you. 
 And lend them Sorrows -, for yourfelves, you may 
 Safely forget, there are fuch Things as Tears; 
 
 Vol. I. P And 
 
2IO A Kijig-y and No Kincr, 
 
 And may you all, whole good Thoughts I have gain'd. 
 Hold me unworthy, when I think my Life 
 A Sacrifice too great to keep you thus 
 In fuch a calm Eftate! 
 
 All. God blefs your Majefty ! 
 
 Arh. See, all good People, I have brought the Man, 
 Whofe very Name you fcar'd, a Captive home ; 
 Behold him, 'tis 'Tigranes; in your Hearts 
 Sing Songs of Gladnefs, and Deliverance. 
 
 1 Cit. Out upon him ! 
 
 2 Cit. How he looks. 
 
 3 Wcm. Hang him, hang him. 
 Mar, Thefe are fweet People. 
 'Tigr. Sir, you do me Wrong, 
 
 To render me a fcorned Spectacle 
 
 To common People. Arb. It was far from mc 
 
 To mean it fo : If I have aught deferv'd, 
 
 My loving Subje^ls, let me beg of you, 
 
 Not to revile this Prince, (20) in whom there dwells 
 
 All Worth of which the Nature of a Man 
 
 Is capable ; Valour beyond Compare ; 
 
 The Terror of his Name has ftretch'd itfelf 
 
 Whcre-ever there is Sun ; and yet for you 
 
 I fought with him fingle, and won him too ; 
 
 I made his Valour Hoop, and brought that Name 
 
 Soar'd to fo unbeliev'd a Height, to fall 
 
 Beneath mine : this, infpir'd with all your Loves, 
 
 I did perform, and will, for your Content, 
 
 Be ever ready for a greater Work. 
 
 All The Lord blefs your Majefty ! 
 
 'Tigr. So, he has made me Amends now with a Speech 
 in Commendation of himfelf : I would not be fo vain- 
 glorious. 
 
 Arb. If there be any thing in which I may 
 
 (20) in nvhom there dive Us 
 
 All Worth of nvhich the Name of Man 
 
 Is capable.'] As I have adjufted all this Speech ro its proper 
 Metre, a Corruption is evident in the Text from the Defefl of the 
 Verfification. I havereftored the right Reading, from the Authority 
 of the three ^^^^/-.Vo in 1619, 1631, and 1C76. 
 
 Da 
 
A Kingy and No King, 211 
 
 Do Good to any Creature here, fpeak out ; 
 
 For I muft leave you : And it troubles me. 
 
 That my Occafions for the Good of you. 
 
 Are fuch as call me from you : elfc, my Joy 
 
 "Would be to fpend my Days among you all. 
 
 You fliew your Loves in thefe large Multitudes 
 
 That come to meet me, I will pray for you ; 
 
 {21) Heav'n profper you, that you may know old Years, 
 
 And live to fee your Childrens Children 
 
 Sit at your Boards with Plenty! When there is 
 
 A Want of any thing, let it be known 
 
 To me, and 1 will be a Father to you : 
 
 God keep you all ! 
 
 [ Flcurijlo. Exeunt Kings and their Train. 
 AIL God blefs your Majefty, God blefs your Majefty ! 
 
 1 Man. Come, fhall wc go ? All's done. 
 
 Worn. Ay, for God's fake, I have not made a Fire yet. 
 
 2 Man. Away, away, all's done. 
 
 3 Man. Content: farewel, Philip. 
 
 1 Cit. Away, you Halter-fack, you. 
 
 2 Man. Philip will not fight, he's afraid on*s Face. 
 Phil. Ay, marry ; am I afraid of my Face ^ 
 
 3 Man. Thou wouldft be, Philip., if thou faw'fl: it in a 
 Glafs ; it looks fo like a Vifor. 
 
 [^Exeunt the three Men., and Wotnan'. 
 I Cit. You'll be hang'd, Sirrah ; Come, Philips walk 
 before us homewards ; (22) did not his Majefty fay he had 
 brought us home Peas for all our Money ? 
 
 2 Cit. 
 
 (21) Hea'v'n pro/per you, that you ma^ kno^v old Teat if 
 And li've to fee your Children'' s Children lit 
 
 At your Boards ivith Plenty.'] As the Emphafis at the Begin* 
 ring of the third Verfe is m.initeitly faulty, fo one might fufpeft 
 a Syllable had dipt out at Prefs ; yet I do not take that to be the Cafe. 
 For as I know it was a moil frequent Licence in the Peers of that 
 Age to extend a DUTyllable in Pronunciation to three Syllables i I do 
 not doubt but the Poets made out their Verification by that Liberty, 
 thus : 
 
 And live to fee your Childrens' Chil-de-ren 
 
 bit at your Boards nxjith Plenty! 
 
 (22) Did not his Majefty fay, he had brought us home Vezs /or all 
 tur Money ?J This ridiculous Blunder from the Ignorance of the Ci- 
 
 P 2 tizen 
 
212 A King J a?2d No Kmg. 
 
 2 Cii. Yes, marry, did he. • :\ 
 
 1 Cit. They're the firft I heard of this Year, by my 
 troth ; I long'd for fome of 'em : Did he not fay, we 
 lliould have Ibme ? 
 
 2 Cit. Yes, and fo we fhall anon, I warrant you, have 
 every one a Peck brought home to our Houfes. {Exeunt. 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Arbaces, and Gobrias. 
 
 Arh. lYf Y Sifter take it ill? 
 
 ^^ Gcb. Not very ill ; 
 Something unkindly fhe does take it, Sir, 
 To have her Husband chofen to her Hands. 
 
 Arb. Why, Gobrias^ let her ; I muft have her know. 
 My Will, and not her own, mull govern her : 
 What, win Ihe marry with fome Slave at home ^ 
 
 Gob. O, fhe is far from any Stubbomnefs, 
 You much millalve her, and, no doubt, will like 
 Where you would have her ; but when you behold her. 
 You will be loth to part with fuch a Jewel. 
 
 Arb, To part with her? Why, Gobrias, art thou mad ? 
 She is my Sifter. Gob. Sir, I know, (he is: 
 But it were pity to make poor our Land, 
 With fuch a Beauty to enrich another. 
 
 Arb. Pifli ! will fhe have him ? 
 
 Gob. I do hope, fhe will not ; \^Aftde. 
 
 I think, fhe will. Sir. 
 
 Arb. Were flie my Father, and my Mother too. 
 And all the Names for which we think Folks Friends, 
 She fhould be forc'd to have him, when I know 
 'Tis fit: I will not hear her fay, fhe's loth. 
 
 tizen in miftaking Peace for Peas, might have an effedl perhaps (at 
 !eaft of Laughter) on the grofs Audiences of thofe Times; tho' I 
 queftion whether it would not meet with a Rebuke from the nicer 
 . Talks in ours. 
 
 Gob. 
 
A Ki?jg^ a?td No King. 213 
 
 Gob. Heav'n bring my Purpofe luckily to pafs ! 
 You know, 'tisjuit; fhe will not need Conftraint 
 She loves you fo. Arb. How does fhe love me ? Speak. 
 
 Gob. She loves you more than People love their Health, 
 That live by Labour -, more than I could love 
 A Man that died for me, if he could live 
 Again. Arb. She is not like her Mother then. 
 
 Gob. O, no, when you were in Armenia^ 
 I durit not let her know when you were hurt : 
 For at the lirft, on every little Scratch, 
 She kept her Chamber, wept, and could not ear. 
 Till you were well ; and many times the News , 
 
 Was fo long coming, that before we heard 
 She was as near her Death, as you your Health. 
 
 Arb. Alas, poor Soul ! but yet /he mud be rul'd ; 
 I know not how I fliall requite her well. 
 I long to fee her; have you fent for her. 
 To tell her 1 am ready ^ Gob. Sir, 1 have. 
 
 Enter i Gentleman and Tigranes. 
 
 I Gent. Sir, here is the Armenian King. 
 
 Arb. He's welcome. 
 
 I Gent. And die Queen Mother and the Princefs wait 
 without. 
 
 Arb. Good Gobrias., bring *em in. {Exit Gobrias. 
 
 'Tigranes, you will think you are arrivM 
 In a flrange Land, where Mothers call to poifon 
 Their only Sons -, think you, you Ihall be fafe ? 
 
 Tigr. Too fafe I am. Sir. 
 
 Enter Gobrias, Arane, Panthea, Spaconia, Bacurius, 
 Mardonius, BelTus, and two Gentlemen. 
 
 (23) Ara. As low as this I bow to you, and would 
 
 As 
 
 (23) ^s loiv as this I bonv to you, and nvould 
 As louj as is tny Gra've, to JherM a Mind 
 Thankful for all your Mercies. 
 Arb. O jland up. 
 
 And let me kneel \ the Light ivill be ajlmni! d 
 To fee Ohfer'vance done to me by you.^ There is a fine raf- 
 fage, upon a fmiilar Occauon, in Sh a kespe a re's Cor;o/a»«/ ; to 
 
 P 3 which 
 
214 ^ Ki7i.g^ and No Kmg, 
 
 As low as is my Grave, to fhew a Mind 
 Thankful for all your Mercies. Arb. O fland up. 
 And let me kneel ; the Light will be afham'd 
 To fee Obfervance done to me by you. 
 
 Ara. You are my King. 
 
 Arb. You are my Mother, rife ; 
 As far be all your Faults from your own Soul, 
 As from my Memory •, then you fhall be 
 As white as Innocence herfelf. Ara. I came 
 Only to fhew my Duty, and acknowledge 
 My Sorrows for my Sins ; longer to ftay, 
 Were but to draw Eyes more attentively 
 Upon my Shame ; tk't Pow'r, that kept you fafe 
 From me, preferve you ftill! Arb. Your own Defires 
 Shall be your Guide. \^Exit Arane; 
 
 Pan. Now let me die, fince I 
 Have feen^y Lord the King return in Safety. 
 I have feen all the Good that Life can fhew me ; 
 I've ne*er another Wilh for Heav'n to grant. 
 Nor were it fit I fhould ; for I am bound 
 To Ipend my Age to come, in giving Thanks 
 That this was granted me. 
 
 Gob. Why does not your Majefty fpeak ? 
 
 Arb. To whom .'* Gob. To the Princefs. 
 
 Pan. Alas, Sir, I am fearful ; you do look 
 On me, as if I were fome loathed Thing, 
 That you were finding out a way to fhun. 
 
 Gob. Sir, you fhould fpeak to her. Arb. Fla.? 
 
 Pan. I know, I am unworthy, yet not ill : arm'd with 
 
 which our Authors might poiTibly have an Eye : 
 Vol. O J} and up hlejs'd! 
 
 Whtlfi ivith fio fofter Cujhion than the Flint 
 
 I kneel before thee ; and improperly 
 
 Sbet\j Duty as mifiaken all the --..■chile 
 
 Bet'ween the Child and Parent. 
 Cor. What is this? 
 
 Your Knees to me? to your correSIcd Son ? 
 
 Then let the Pebbles on the hungry Beach 
 
 Fillop the Stars ; then let the mutinous Winds 
 
 Strike the proud Cedars ''gainji the fiery Sun ; 
 
 MurlVring LnpoJ/ibility, to make 
 
 What catmot be flight Work. 
 
 which 
 
A Khrgy cind No King, 21^ 
 
 which Innocence here I will knecJ, 'till I am one with 
 Earth, but I will gain feme Words and Kindnefs from 
 you. 
 
 Tigr. Will you fpeak, Sir ? 
 
 Arb. Speak, am I what I was ? 
 W^hat art thou, that doft creep into my Brcafl-, 
 And dar'fl not fee my Face ? Ihew forth thyfclf : 
 (24) I feel a pair of fieiy Wings difplay'd. 
 Hither, from thence ; you Hiall not tarry there, 
 Up, and be gone, if thou be'ft Love, be gone : 
 Or I will tear thee from my wounded Breafl, 
 Pull thy lov'd Down away, (25) and with a Quill 
 By this right Arm drawn from thy wanton Wing, 
 Write to thy laughing Mother i'thy Blood -, 
 That you are Pow'rs bely'd, and all your Darts 
 Are to be blown away, by Men refolv'd. 
 Like Dull-, 1 know, thou fear'ft my Words, away. 
 
 "tigr. O Mifery ! Why fliould he be fo flow ? 
 There can no Falfliood come of loving her ; 
 Though I have given my Faith, fhe is a Thing 
 Both to be lov'd and fcrv'd beyond my Faith : 
 I would, he would prefent me to her quickly. 
 
 Pan. Will you not fpeak at all ? Are you fo far 
 From kind Words ^. Yet to lave my Modefl:y, 
 That mufl: talk till you anfwer, do not fland 
 As you were dumb, fay fomcthing, though it be 
 Poifon'd with Anger, that may llrike me dead. 
 
 Mar, Have you no Life at all ? For Manhood fake, 
 
 (24) I feci a pair of fiery Wings dlfplafd 
 
 Hither, from hence :] I have retriev'd the genuine Reading 
 here by the Addition of a iingle Letter, from the eldeft ^arto in 
 161 9 ; and the ingenious Mr. Sympfon liicewife obferv'd to me, that it 
 fliould be fo ; and was a Speech with Aftion. 
 
 (25) j^nd ivitb thy ^ill 
 
 Dranvn by this right Artn fro?n thy wonted IViftg, 
 Write to thy laughing Mother in thy Blood;'] The Alteration?, 
 made here, are likewije from the Authority of the eldeft ^arto^s ; 
 and Mr. Sytupfoii's Sagacity here faw, that the Changes, which are fo 
 conhim'd, were abfolutely necelTary. Thy laughing Mather • 
 Venus is by the Poets, both Greek and Latine, charadeilz'i with the 
 Epithets of ^lAoi^uaJii:, and ridens. * 
 
 P 4 Let 
 
2i6 A Ki7tg^ and No King, 
 
 Let her not kneel, and talk negledled thus ; 
 A Tree would iind a Tongue to anfwer her, 
 Did fhe but give it fuch a lov'd Rcfpeft. 
 
 Arh. You mean this Lady: Lift her from the Earth j 
 Why do you let her kneel fo long ? Alas, 
 Madam, your Beauty ufes to command. 
 And not to beg. What is your Suit to me ? 
 It lliall be granted, yet the Time is fhort. 
 And my Atrairs are great : 
 But where's my Sifter ? I bade, fhe fhould be brought, '■ 
 
 (26) Mar. What, is he mad? 
 
 Ar, Gobrias., where is fhe ? 
 
 Gob. Sir. 
 
 Arb. Where is Ihe, Man ? 
 
 Gob. Who, Sir? 
 
 Arb. Who, haft thou forgot my Sifter? 
 
 Gob. Your Sifter, Sir ? 
 
 Arb. Your Sifter, Sir ? Some one that hath a Wit, 
 Anfwer, where is ftie ? 
 
 Gob. Do you not fee her there ? 
 
 Arb. Where? 
 
 Gob. There. 
 
 Arb. There, where ? 
 
 Mar. S'light, there, are you blind ? 
 
 Arb. Which do you mean, that little one ? 
 
 Gob. No, Sir. 
 
 Arb. No, Sir ? Why, do you mock me ? I can fee 
 No other here, but that petitioning Lady. 
 
 Gob. That!s ftie. 
 
 Arb. Away. 
 
 Gob. Sir, it is ftie. 
 
 Arb. 'Tis falfe.. 
 
 Gob. Is it ? 
 
 Arb. As Hell J by Heav'n, as falfe as Hell; 
 
 (26) What is fhe Kad?'] There is no Reafon to ask this with re- 
 gard to the Princefs ; fhe hid given no Symptonis of any thing like 
 Madnefs, which the King had ; and concerning him is the Queftion 
 ^sk'd. Mr. Senxard. 
 
 The Change is authoriz'^ by the ^arto in 1619, and the Folio in 
 1679. 
 
 My 
 
p 
 
 I 
 
 A King^ and No King. 21^ 
 
 My Sifter Is flie dead ? If it be fo, 
 
 Speak boldly to me ? for I am a Man, 
 
 And dare not quarrel with Divinity ; 
 
 And do not think to cozen me with this : 
 
 I fee, you all are mute and Hand amaz'd. 
 
 Fearful to anfwer me-, (27) it is too true, 
 
 A decreed Inftant cuts oif ev'ry Life, 
 
 For which to mourn, is to repine ; fhe dy'd 
 
 A Virgin though, more innocent than Sleep j 
 
 As clear as her own Eyes; and Bleffednefs 
 
 Eternal waits upon her where Ihe is : 
 
 I know, file could not make a Wilh to change 
 
 Her State for new, and you fhall fee me bear 
 
 My Croffes like a Man ; we all muft die. 
 
 And fhe hath taught us how. Gob. Do not miftake. 
 
 And vex yourfelf for nothing ; for her Death 
 
 Is a long Life off yet, I hope : 'Tis fhe. 
 
 And if my Speech deferve not Faith, lay Death 
 
 Upon me, and my lateft Words fhall force 
 
 A Credit from you. Arb. Which, good Gobn'as? 
 
 That Lady, doft thou mean ? Gob. That Lady, Sir, 
 
 She is your Sifter, and fhe is your Sifter 
 
 That loves you fo, 'tis fhe for whom I weep. 
 
 To fee you ufe her thus. Arb. It cannot be. 
 
 Tigr. Pifti ! this is tedious, 
 I cannot hold, I muft prefent myfclf. 
 And yet the Sight of my Spaconia 
 
 (27) ' it Is too true, 
 
 A decreed Injlant cuts off eij'ry Life, 
 
 For ivhjch to mourn is to repine ; J^je died 
 
 A Virgin, though more innocent than Sheep,] The King has 
 been mourning for his Sifter's fuppofcd Death ; and then immediately 
 comforts himielf up, that fhe died a Virgin, But this Paflage has 
 long labour'd under a wrong Reading, a wrong Pointing, and, thence 
 confequently, an abfurd Reafoning. If fhe were more innocent than 
 a Sheep, might fhe not therefore die a Virgin ? But how low and 
 ridiculous is it in a Prince to compare the Innocence of a fine young 
 Lady, his beloved Sifter, to that of a Sheep? I have cured the Point- 
 ing ; and retriev'd the genuine Reading, by the Aid of the old ^tarto 
 in 1619. 
 
 Touches 
 
21 8 A King^ and No King, 
 
 Touches me, as a fudden Thunder-dap 
 Does one that is about to fin. Arb. Away, 
 No more of this ; here I pronounce him Traitor, 
 The direft Plotter of my Death, that names 
 Or thinks her for my Siller ; 'tis a Lye, 
 The mofl malicious of the World, invented 
 To mad your King -, he that will fay fo next. 
 Let him draw out his Sword and fheath it here, 
 It is a Sin fully as pardonable : 
 She is no Kin to me, nor fhall fhe be ; 
 li fhe were ever, I create her none : 
 And which of you can queflion this ? my Pow'r 
 Js like the Sea, that is to be obey'd. 
 And not difputed with : I have decreed her 
 As far from having part of Blood with me, 
 A s the nak'd Indians ; come and anfwer me. 
 He that is boldeft now ; is that my Sifter ? 
 
 Mar. O, this is fine. 
 
 Bef. No, marry, fhe is not, an't pleafe your Majefly, 
 I never thought fhe was, fhe's nothing like you. 
 
 Arb. No, 'tis true, flie is not. 
 
 Mar. Thou lliou'dft be hang'd. 
 
 Pan. Sir, I will fpeak but once ; by the fame Pow'r 
 You make my Blood a Stranger unto yours. 
 You may command me dead ; and fo much Love 
 A Stranger may importune ; pray you, do ; 
 If this Requeft appear too much to grant, 
 Adopt me of fome other Family, 
 By your unqueftion'd Word ; elfe I fliall live 
 Like finful IfTues that are left in Streets 
 By their regardlefs Mothers, and no Name 
 Will be found for me. 
 
 Arb. I will hear no more, 
 "Why fhould there be fuch Mufick in a Voice, 
 And Sin for me to hear it .? All the World 
 May take Delight in this ; (28) yet 'tis Damnation 
 
 For 
 
 (28) and V/j Davination 
 
 For me to do fo{\ Ilo make Senfc and true Rcafoning, the Con- 
 
 iundion 
 
A Klng^ and No King, 219 
 
 For me to do fo : You are fair, and wife, 
 
 And virtuous, I think •, and he is bleft, 
 
 That is fo near you as a Brother is ; 
 
 But you are nought to me but a Difeafe ; 
 
 Continual Torment without Hope of Eafe ; 
 
 Such an ungodly Sickncfs I have got, 
 
 That he, that undertakes my Cure, muft firft 
 
 O'erthrow Divinity, all moral Laws, 
 
 And leave Mankind as unconfin'd as Beafts ; 
 
 Allowing *em to do all Actions 
 
 As freely, as they drink when they defire, 
 
 Let me not hear you fpeak again ; yet fo 
 
 I fhall but languifli for the Want of that. 
 
 The haxdng which would kill me : No Man here 
 
 Offer to fpeak for her ; for I confider 
 
 As much as you can fay; I will not toil 
 
 My Body and my Mind too, reft thou there, 
 
 Here's one within will labour for you both. 
 
 Pan. I would, I were paft fpeak ing. 
 
 Goh. Fear not. Madam, 
 The King will alter, 'tis fome fudden Rage, 
 And you fhall fee it end fome other way. 
 
 Fan. Pray Heav'n it do! 
 
 Tig. Though fhe, to whom I fwore, be here, I cannot 
 Stifle my PafTion longer ; if my Father, 
 Should rife again difquieted with this. 
 And charge me to forbear, yet it would out. 
 Madam, a Stranger, and a Pris'ner begs 
 To be bid welcome. Fan. You are welcome. Sir, 
 I think ; but if you be not, 'tis paft me 
 To make you fo : For I am here a Stranger 
 Greater than you ; we l-cnow from whence you come; 
 But I appear a loft Thing, and by whom 
 Is yet uncertain, found here i'the Court, 
 And only fuffer'd to walk up and down, 
 
 junftion and muft be changed into the difcretive Particle ir/- The 
 King means, all the World, befides himfelf, may take Delight in 
 the Mufick of her Tongue; but it would be Damnation in him to 
 do fo. 
 
 As 
 
2 20 A Ki7tgj a?id No King, 
 
 As one not worth the owning. Spa. O, I fear 
 Tigranes will be caiiglit, he looks, methinks, 
 As he would change his Eyes with her j fome Help 
 There is above for me, I hope. 
 
 ^igr. Why do you turn away, and weep fo fad. 
 And utter Things that mif become your Looks, 
 Can you want owning ^ Spa. O, 'tis certain lb. 
 
 ligr. Acknowledge yourfelf mine. 
 
 Arb. How now ? 7/j^r. And then 
 See if you want an Owner, yjrb. They are talking. 
 
 Tigr. Nations fnall own you for their Queen. 
 
 Arb. Tigranes, art not thou my Prifoner? 
 
 Tigr. 1 am. 
 
 u^rb. And who is this ? 
 
 2%r. She is your Sifter, Jrb. She is fo. 
 
 Mar Is fhe fo again ? that's well. A'b. And then 
 How dare you offer to change Words with her? 
 
 Tigr. Dare do it ! W^iy ? You brought mc hither. Sir, 
 To that Intent. Jrb. Perhaps, I told you fo i 
 If I had fworn it, had you fo much Folly 
 To credit it ? The leaft Word, that fhe fpeaks, 
 Is worth a Life •, rule your diforder'd Tongue, 
 Or I will temper it. Spa. Bleft be that Breath ! 
 
 ^igr. Temper my Tongue ! < — Such Incivilities 
 As thefe no barbarous People ever knew : 
 You break the Laws of Nature, and of Nations j 
 You talk to me as if I were a Prifoner 
 For Theft : My Tongue be tempcr'd } I muft fpcak. 
 If Thunder check mc, and I will. Arb. You will ? 
 
 Spa. Alas, my Fortune ! 
 
 Tygr. Do not fear his Frown, 
 Dear Madam, hear me. 
 
 Arb. Fear not my Frown ^ But that 'twere bafe in me 
 To fight with one, I know I can o'crcome, 
 Again thou fliouldft be conquer'd by me. 
 
 Mar. He has one Ranfom with him already ; methinks, 
 'Twere good to fight double, or quit. 
 
 Arb. Away with him to Prifon : Now, Sir, fee 
 If my Frowns be rcgardlefs ; Why delay you ? 
 Seize him, Bacurius; you Ihall know my Word 
 
 Sweeps 
 
A King^ mid No King, 221 
 
 Sweeps like a Wind; and all, it grapples with. 
 Arc as the Chaff before it. Tigr. Toucli me not. 
 Arb. Help there. Tigr. Away. 
 
 1 Ge7it. It is in vain to llruggle. 
 
 2 Gent. You muft be forc'd. 
 Bac. Sir, you muft pardon us. 
 
 We muft obey. Arb. Why do you dally there? 
 Drag him away by any thing. Bcc. Come, Sir. 
 
 Tig. Juftice, thou ought '11 to give me Strength enough 
 To fhake all thcfe off; (29) this is Tyranny, 
 Arb aces .^ fubtler than the burning Bull's ; 
 (30) Or that fam'd Tyrant's Bed. Thou mightft as well 
 
 (29) this is T\ranny, 
 
 Arbaces, fubtler than the burning Bulls ; ] What burnitig 
 Bulls the Editors had in their Heads, I am unacquainted with. Jafou^ 
 I know, towards obtaining the goUen Fleece, was obliged to combat 
 with brazen-footed Bulls, that breach'd Fire from their Noftrils. But 
 thefc were only fome of the Guardians of the Fleece; and how is 
 any Tyranny concern'd in this ? The Allufion is to the Tyranny of 
 Phalarisy who inclofed the Wretches, that had offended him, in a 
 Bull of Brafs, and burn'd them alive ; being delighted to hear their 
 Groans exprefs the bellowing of a Bull. This was, indeed, Tyranny. 
 One Perillus, we are told, made this Savage Prefent to Phalaris ; 
 and the Tyrant made the firll Experiment upon him of his own cruel 
 Ingenuity : Upon which, Ovid has very properly obferv'd, 
 ■ — hec Lex efi jujiior ulla, 
 
 ^ua7n necis Artifices Arte perire fua. 
 
 •' There is no more equal Juftice, than that the Artificers of Mif- 
 *' chief fhould fufFer by their own bad Arts." 
 
 {30) Or that fam'd Titan'/ Bed.'\ Here the Editors (from the Folio 
 Edition of 1679, downwards) have foifted in another fham Fable. 
 What fam'd Titan^s Bed was this? The Titans took up Arms againft 
 Jupiter, with intent to dethrone him ; and, being vanquifli'd, were 
 thrown into fubterranean Volcano's, and overwhelm'd with Moun- 
 tains. But where, again, was the Tyranny of this ? They rebell'd 
 .igainft a rightfull Prince, and were juftly punilh'd. The ^arto 
 Edition of 1628, gives it us thus ; 
 
 Or that fam'd Tyrant'^ Bed. 
 
 And this is the true Reading. The Poets allude to the Bed of the 
 inhumane Procrufcs, an infamous Robber oi Attica, who compell'd 
 all his Prifoners to lie in it ; and, if they were too lliort, he by Racks 
 ftretch'd out their Limbs to the Extent of it ; if they were of too tall 
 a Stature, he lopp'd off their Feet, and reduced them to a Length 
 fuitable to hi: Bed. Both Mr. Senvard and Mr, Sympfon fagacioufly 
 faw, that Tyrant was the Word of our Authors. 
 
 Search 
 
222 A Km^^ and No Kino-, 
 
 Search i' the deep of Winter through the Snow 
 For half-ftarv'd People, to bring home with thee. 
 To fhew 'em Fire and fend 'em back again, 
 As ufe me thus. 
 
 Arb. Let him be clofe, Bacuriiis. [Exe. Tigr. and Bac, 
 
 Spa. I ne'er rejoic'd at any 111 to him. 
 But this Imprifonment : What fliall become 
 Of me forfaken ? Gob. You will not let your Siller 
 Depart thus difcontcntcd from you. Sir? 
 
 Arb. By no means, Gobrias, I have done her Wrong, 
 And made myfelf believe much of myfelf. 
 That is not in me : You did kneel to me, 
 Whilft I ftood ftubborn and regardlefs by, 
 And, like a God incenfed, gave no Ear 
 To all your Prayers : Behold, I kneel to you. 
 Shew a Contempt as large as was my own. 
 And I will fuffer it •, yet at the laft 
 Forgive me. 
 
 Pan. O you wrong me more in this, 
 Than in your Rage you did : You mock me now, 
 
 Arb. Never forgive me dien, which is the worft 
 Can happen to me. Pan. If you be in Earneft, 
 Stand up and give me but a gende Look, 
 And two kind Words, and I fhall be in Heav'n. 
 
 Arb. Rife you then too -, here I acknowledge thee 
 My Hope, the only Jewel of my Life, 
 The bell of Sifters, dearer than my Breath, 
 A Happinefs as high as I could think ; 
 And when my A6tions call thee otherwife. 
 Perdition light upon me ! Pan. This is better 
 Than if you had not frown'd, it comes to me. 
 Like Mercy at the Block, and when I leave 
 To ferve you with my Life, your Curfe be with me! 
 
 Arb. Then thus I do falute thee, and again. 
 To make this Knot the ftronger ; Paradife 
 Is there : It may be, you are yet in Doubt, 
 This third Kifs blots it out — I wade in Sin, 
 And foolirnly inticc myfelf along ; 
 Take her away, fee her a Prifbner 
 In her ov/n Chamber clofely, Gobrias. 
 
 Pan, 
 
A King^ and No King. 223 
 
 Tan. Alas, Sir, v/hy ? 
 
 Arb. I muil not flay the Anfwer, 
 Do it. Gob. Good Sir ! Ark. No more, do it, I fay. 
 
 Mar. This is better and better. 
 
 Pan. Yet hear me fpeak. 
 
 Arb. I will not hear you ij)eak. 
 Away with her, let no Man think to fpeak 
 For fuch a Creature; (31) for flie is a Witch, 
 A Poifoner, and a Traitor. 
 
 Gob. Madam, this Office grieves me. 
 
 Pan. Nay, it is well \ the King is pleafed with it. 
 
 Arb. Befftis, go you along too with her ; I will prove 
 All this that I have faid, if I may live 
 So long ; but I am defperately fick. 
 For fhe has given me Poifon in a Kifs ; 
 She had it 'twixt her Lips, and with her Eyes 
 She witches People: Go, without a Word. 
 
 [Exeunt Gob. Pan. Bef and Spaconia, 
 Why fhould you, that have made me fland in War 
 Like Fate itfelf, cutting what Threads I pleas'd. 
 Decree fuch an unworthy End of me. 
 And all my Glories.^ What am I, alas. 
 That you oppofe me ? If my fecret Thoughts 
 Have ever harbour' d Swellings againft you. 
 They could not hurt you ; and it is in you 
 To give me Sorrow, that will render me 
 Apt to receive your Mercy ; rather fo. 
 Let it be rather fo, than punifh me 
 With fuch Unmanly Sins : (32) Inceft is in me 
 
 Dwelling 
 
 (3 " f°^ J^-^ '^ ^ Witch, 
 
 A Prifoner and a 'Traitor.'\ Here is a Blunder of the Copy- 
 ifts ; who, feeing in the Line above Orders given to take Panthea 
 away, had foifted in this Ledlion upon us: But Poifoner is the Word 
 that the Poets gave her. So, in a few Lines below; 
 Sh^ as gi'veu mi Poifon in a Kifs, 
 
 She had it ''ticixt her Lips. Mr. Sympfon. 
 
 And the Conje£\ure is confirm'd by the ^tarto's in 1619, 163 1', 
 and 1676. 
 
 (32) Inceji is in me 
 
 Dxuelling already, and it muji hf holy 
 
 That pulls it thence, \ The Obfcurity of this Paffage puzzled' 
 
 me 
 
2 24- A Khigy and No King. 
 
 Dwelling already ; and it muft be holy, 
 That pulls it thence ; where art, Mardonius ? 
 
 Mar. Flere, Sir. 
 
 Arh. I pray thee, bear me, if thou canft ; 
 Am I not grown a flrange Weight ? 
 
 Mar. As you were. 
 
 Arh. No heavier ? 
 
 Mar. No, Sir. Arh. Why, my Legs 
 Rcfufe to bear my Body ; O Mardonius^ 
 Thou haft in Field beheld me, when thou know'ft 
 I could have gone, though I could never run. 
 
 Mar. And fo I fliall again. Arb. O, no, 'tis paft. 
 
 Mar. Pray you go reft yourfelf. 
 
 Arh. Wilt thou hereafter when they talk of me. 
 As thou fhalt hear nothing but Infamy, 
 Remember fomc of thofc Things ? 
 
 Mar. Yes, I will. 
 
 Arh. I pray thee, do : For thou ihalt never fee me fo 
 again. 
 
 Mar. I warrant you. [ExeunL 
 
 Enter Befllis alo?ie. 
 
 Bef T'hcy talk of Fame, I have gotten it in the Wars, 
 and will afford any Man a reafonable Penny-worth : 
 Some will fay, they could be content to have it, but that 
 it is to be atchiev'd with Danger ; but my Opinion is 
 other wife : For if 1 might ftand ftill in Cannon-proof, 
 and have Fame fall upon me, I would refiife it : My 
 Reputation came principally by thinking to run away> 
 >vhich no Body knows but Mardonius^ and, I think, he 
 conceals it to anger me. Before I went to the Wars, I 
 came to the Town a young Fellow, without Means or 
 Parts to defci-ve Friends ; and my empty Guts perfuaded 
 me to lye, and abufe People, for my Meat j which I 
 did, and they beat me : Then would I faft two Days, 
 
 me a great while; but by pondering often over it, I think, I have 
 traced tne Intention of the Poets. The King would fay, that Incelt 
 has already taken up its Refidence in him ; and is a Sin of fo horrid 
 a Dye, that nothing but the Afllftance of the Holy Powers can ex- 
 pell it. 
 
 till 
 
A Ki?2gj a?id No King, 225 
 
 till my Hunger cry'd out on me, Rail ft ill ; then, me- 
 thought, I had a monftrous Stomach to abufe 'em again, 
 and did it. In this State I continu'd till they hung me 
 up by th' Heels, and beat me wi' Hafle-Sticks as if 
 they would have baked me, and have cozen'd fome Body 
 wi' me for Venifon : After this I rail'd, and eat quietly : 
 For the whole Kingdom took Notice of me for a baffled 
 whip'd Fellow, and what I faid was rcmembi-ed in Mirth 
 but never in Anger, of which I was glad ; I would, it 
 were at that Pafs again ! After this, Heav'n calls an 
 Aunt of mine, that left two Hundred Pounds in a 
 Coufin's Hand for me, who, taldng me to be a gallant 
 young Spirit, raifed a Company for me v/ith the Money, 
 and fent me into Armenia with 'em : Away I would have 
 run from them, but that I could get no Company, and 
 alone I durfb not run. I was never at Battel but once, 
 and there I was running, but Mardcnius cudgel'd mc ; 
 yet I got loofe at laft, but was fo afraid, that I faw no 
 more than my Shoulders do ; but fled with my whole 
 Company amonglt mine Enemies, and overthrew *em : 
 Now the Report of my Valour is come over before me, 
 and, they fay, I was a raw young Fellow, but now I am 
 improv'd \ a Plague on their Eloquence ! 'twill cofb me 
 many a Beating •, and Mardonitis might help this too, if 
 he would ; for now they think to get Honour on me, 
 (33) and all the Men I have abus'd call mc frelhly 
 to Account, (worthily, as they call it) by the way of 
 Challenge. 
 
 Enter a Gentleman. 
 
 Gent. Good-morrow, Captain Bejfus. 
 Bef. Good-morrow, Sir. 
 Gent. I come to fpeak with you. 
 Bef. You're very v^elcome. 
 
 Gent. From one that holds himfclf wrong'd by you 
 fome three Years fince : Your Worth, he fays, is fam'd, 
 
 (33) and all the Men I ho.'ve alui'd call me frcjhly ivorthily^ 
 as they call it by the i>:ay of Challenge ] I have recrievM two Words 
 from the old ^ario ; and by regulating the Pointing, and the Ad- 
 dition of a Paretithtfis, have cured thib Faliage of its Oblcurity. 
 
 Vol. I. Q^ and 
 
2 25 A King., aiid No King, 
 
 ard he doth nothing doubt but you will do him Right, 
 as befeems a Soldier. 
 
 Bef. A Pox on *em, fo they cry all ! 
 
 Geyit. And a flight Note 1 have about me for you, for 
 the Delivery of which you luuft excufe me ; it is an 
 Office that Friendfhip calls upon me to do, and no way 
 offenfive to you \ fince I defire but Right on both Sides. 
 
 Bef. 'Tis a Challenge, Sir, is it not? 
 
 Gent. 'Tis an Inviting to the Field. 
 
 Bef. An Inviting.'' O Sir, your Mercy; what a Com- 
 plement he delivers it with ? He might as agreeable to 
 my Nature prefent me Poifon with fuch a Speech : Um, 
 um, um, Reputation., um, um, um, call you to Account., 
 um, um, ui-n., forced to this, um, um, um, with my Sword^ 
 um, um, um, like a GentlemaUy um, um, um, dear to 
 me, um, um, um, Satisfaclion: 'Tis very well, Sir, I do 
 accept it, but he muft await an Anfwer this thirteen 
 Weeks. 
 
 Gent. Why, Sir, he would be glad to wipe off his Stain 
 as loon as he could. 
 
 Bef. Sir, upon my Credit I am already ingag'd to two 
 Hundred and twelve, all which mufc have their Stains 
 wip'd off, if that be the Word, before him. 
 
 Gent. Sir, if you be truly ingag'd but to one, he fliall 
 flay a competent Time. 
 
 Bef Upon my Faith, Sir, to two Hundred and twelve, 
 and 1 have a fpent Body, too much bruis'd in Battel ; fo 
 that I cannot fight, I mufb be plain, above three Com- 
 bats a Day : All the Kindnefs I can fhew him, is to (tt 
 him refolvedly in my Roll, tlie two Hundred and thir- 
 teentli Man, which is fomcthing •, for, I tell you, I think 
 there will be more after him, than before him, I think fo ; 
 pray you, commend me to him, and tell him this. 
 
 Gent. I will Sir, Good-morrow to you. 
 
 \_Exit Gentleman. 
 
 Bef Good-morro'a-, good Sir. Certainly, my lafefl 
 way were to print myfelf a Coward, with a Difcovery 
 how I came by my Credit, and clap it upon every Pofl ; 
 I have received above thirty Challenges within this two 
 Hours ; marry, all but the firfu 1 put oiF witli Engage- 
 ment i 
 
A Kingy and No King, 227 
 
 nient ; and, by good Fortune, the firft is no madder of 
 fighting than [, fo that that's referred, the Place where 
 it mull be ended is lour Days Journey off", and our Ar- 
 bitrators are thefe : He has chofen a Gentleman in Travel, 
 and I have a fpecial Friend with a quartain Ague, like to 
 hold him this five Years, for mine : And when his Man 
 comes home, we are to cxped: my Friend's Health : (34) 
 Jf they would fend me Challenges thus thick, as long as 
 I liv'd, I would have no other Living; I can make 
 itvtn Shillings a Day o' th* Paper to the Grocers : Yet I 
 learn nothir.g by all thefe but a little Skill in comparing 
 of Stiles. I do find evidently, that there is fome one 
 Scrivener in this Town, that has a great Hand in writing 
 ot Challenges, for they are all of a Cut, and fix of 'em 
 in a Hand ; and they all end, my Reputation is dear to 
 vie^ and I muft require Satisfaulion. Who's there? More 
 Paper, I hope ; no, 'tis my Lord Bacurius j I fear, all 
 is not well betwixt us. 
 
 Enter Bacurius. 
 
 Bac. Now, Captain Bejfus^ I come about a frivolous 
 Matter, caus'd by as idle a Report: You know, you 
 were a Coward. 
 
 Bef. Very right. 
 
 Bac. And wrong'd me. 
 
 Bef. True, my Lord. 
 
 Bac. But now People will call you Valiant, defertlefly, 
 I think •, yet for their Satisfadion, 1 will have you fighc 
 with me. 
 
 Bef. O my good Lord, my deep Engagements 
 
 Bac. Tell not me of your Engagements, Captain Beffus^ 
 it is not to be put off with an Excufe : For my own 
 Part, I am none of the Multitude that believe your Con- 
 verfion from Coward. 
 
 {34) if they nxjould find me Cl^nllcnges thus thich, as Lng as I liv'd, 
 I '•Mould have no other Living ;] I have fubftituted the Word of the 
 e\Ae{i ^arto, which is certainly the true Rciding : If they would 
 continue io fend him fo many Letters of Challenge, he could fup- 
 ply all hi^ Necefiiiies by the Money, that the Grocers would give 
 him for the Pap«r. 
 
 0^2 Bef 
 
2 28 A Kingf and No King, 
 
 Bef. My Lord, I feek no Quarrels, and this belongs 
 not to me, I am not to maintain it. 
 
 Bac. Who then, pray ? 
 
 Bef. Bejfus., the Coward, v/rong'd you. Bac. Right. 
 
 Bef. And Ihall Befjus the Valiant maintain what Beffus 
 the Coward did ? 
 
 Bac. I pray thee, leave thefe cheating Tricks ; I fwear, 
 thou (halt fight with me, or thou Ihalt be beaten extream- 
 ly, and kick'd. 
 
 Bef Since you provoke me thus far, my Lord, I will 
 fight with you ; and, by my Sword, it ihall coft me twenty 
 Pounds, but I will have my Leg well a Week fooner 
 purpofeJy. 
 
 Bac. Your Leg ? Why, what ails your Leg ? I'll do a 
 Cure on you, Hand up, [Kicks him. 
 
 Bef My Lord, this is not Noble in you. 
 
 Bac. What doft thou with fuch a Phrafe in thy 
 Mouth ? I will kick thee out of all good Words before 
 I leave thee. 
 
 Bef. My Lord, I take this as a Punifhment for the 
 Offence I did when I was a Coward. 
 
 Bac. W^hen thou wert ? Confefs thyfelf a Coward ftill, 
 or by this Light, Pll beat thee into Spunge. 
 
 Bef Why, I am one. 
 
 Bac. Are you fo. Sir ? And why do you wear a Sword 
 then ? Come, unbuckle. 
 
 Bef My Lord.? 
 
 Bac. Unbuckle, I fay, and give it me ; or, as I live, thy 
 Head will ake extreamly. 
 
 Bef. It is a pretty Hilt, and, if your Lordfhip take an 
 Affection to it, with all my Heart I prefent it to you 
 for a New-year's-gift. 
 
 Bac. I thank you very heartily, fweet Captain, farewel. 
 
 Bef One Word more, I befeech your Lordfhip to 
 render me my Knife again. 
 
 Bac. Marry, by all means. Captain; cherifh yourfelf 
 with it, and eat hard, good Captain; we cannot tell 
 whether we fhall have any more fuch. Adieu, dear 
 Captain. [Exit Bac. 
 
 Bef. I will make better Ufe of tliis, than of my Sword : 
 
 A bale 
 
A Ki?igy and No King, 229 
 
 A bafe Spirit has this Vantage of a brave one, it keeps 
 always at a Stay, nothing brings it down, not Beating. 
 I remember, I promis'd the King in a great Audience, 
 that I would make my Back-biters eat my Sword to a 
 Knife; how to get another Sword, I know not; nor 
 know any Means left for me to maintain my Credit, but 
 Impudence : Therefore I will out-fwear him and his Fol- 
 lowers, that this is all that's left uneaten of my Sword. 
 
 [Exit Befllis. 
 Enter Mardonius. 
 
 {^S) ^^>'' I'il move the King, he is mofl ftrangely 
 alter'd : 
 I guefs the Caufe, I fear, too right ; Hcav'n has 
 Some fecret End in't, and it is a Scourge, 
 No Queftion, juftly laid on him: He 'as follow'd me 
 Through twenty Rooms ; and ever, when I flay 
 To wait's Command, he blufhes like a Girl, 
 And looks upon me, as if Modelly 
 Kept in his Bufinefs ; fo turns away from me ; 
 But, if I go on, he follows me again. 
 
 Enter Arbaces. 
 
 See, here he is. I do not ufe this, yet 
 
 I know not how, I cannot choofe but weep 
 
 To fee him ; his very Enemies, 1 think, 
 
 Whofe Wounds have bred his Fame, if they fliould fee 
 
 Him now, would find Tears i' their Eyes. 
 
 ylrb. I cannot utter it ; why fhould I keep 
 A Breaft to harbour Thoughts I dare not fpeak .' 
 Darknefs is in my Bofom, and there he 
 A thoufand Thoughts that cannot brook the Light : 
 
 (35) ril mo've the King, &-c.] This and all the fubfequent Scene 
 betwixt the King and Mardonius has all along been printed as Profe ; 
 but it came from the Poets ftriftly in Metre. To fuch I have reduced 
 it with no fmall DifRculty, and wich the great Afillbnce of the in- 
 genious Mr. Seii-ard : Not without the Nece.Tity of throwing out, 
 here and there, fome few trifling Monofyllables, which weie foiiled 
 in, as I prefume, by the Players, to fupport a Cadence more to their 
 Minds ; but which, indeed, much incumber the Verfification. 
 
 Q^ 3 How 
 
230 ^ Ki?2g^ and No Kino-, 
 
 How wilt thou vex mc, when this Deed is done, 
 Confcience, that art afraid to let me name it ! 
 
 Mar. How do you, Sir ? 
 
 Arb. Why, very well, Mardomus -, 
 How doft thou do ? Mar. Better than you, I fear. 
 
 Arb. I hope, thou art -, for to be plain with thee. 
 Thou art in Hell elfe : Secret fcorching Flames, 
 That far tranfcend earthly material Fires, 
 Are crept into me, and there is no Cure. 
 Is it not ftrange, Mardomus, there's no Cure ? 
 
 Mar. Sir, 
 Either I miftake, or there is fomething hid 
 That you would utter to me. Arb. So there is. 
 But yet I cannot do it. Mar. Out with it. Sir, 
 If it be dangerous, I will not fhrink 
 To do you Service, I Ihall not efteem 
 My Life a weightier Matter tlian indeed 
 It is : I know, 'tis fubjed: to more Chances 
 Than it has Flours, (36) and I were better lofe it 
 In my King's Caufe, than with an Ague, or 
 A Fall, or fleepin^ to a Thief ; as all thefe 
 Are probable enough : Let me but knov/ 
 "What I fhall do for you, Arb. It will not out : 
 Were you with Gobrias, and bad him give 
 My Sifter all Content the Place affords, 
 And give her Leave to fend and fpeak to whom 
 She pleafe } Mar. Yes, Sir, I was. 
 
 (36) ■ «'-''^ I ivere better lofz it 
 
 In my King'j Cauje, than totth an Ague, or 
 
 ^ Fall, or Jleeping to a Thiff; fe'fj I own, I did not un-*. 
 derfland, this Jleepijig to a Thief 5 I had corjedured 
 
 — — — or Jleeping to my Death ; 
 
 i. e. meaning,' by a Lethargy, or apoplexy. Bnt I have retraf^ed 
 my Conjefture, as Mr. Zevjard\[&% given me fo ingenious a Comment 
 on the PaiTage. 
 
 " This IS a very fcnfible Exprefiicn : What can be more fo, 
 " than to call, hcivg fiabh'cl in onc''s Sleep by a Thief, one of the 
 *' common Accidents by which cur Lives may be taken away. Be- 
 »' fides, the I'.xpreffions, vca. Ague, or tl Fall, or Jleepirg to a Thief, 
 ** contain the three common Methods of Death (m Oppofiticn to the 
 ** glorious one of dying in War in our King's, and Country's Caufe) 
 '* rjix. Sichr.ei), Mifchancej or Villanj. Mr. Senuard. 
 
 Arb. 
 
A Kinp^y and No Kin^. 2 ^ t 
 
 Arh. And did you to 
 Bacurius fay as much about Tigra7ics 'f 
 
 Mar. Yes. 
 
 Arb. That's all my Bufinefs. 
 
 Mar. O fay not fo, 
 You had an Anfwer of all this before -, 
 Befides, I think, this Bufinefs might be utter'd 
 More carelefly. Arb. Come thou Ihalt have it out ; 
 I do befcech thee by the I.ove thou hall 
 Pro fell to me, to fee my Sifter from me. 
 
 Mar. Weil, and what then ? Arb. That's all. 
 
 Mar. That's ftrange. 
 Shall I fay nothing to her? Arh. Not a Word; 
 But if thou lov'ft me, find fome fiibclc W^ay 
 To make her underftand by Signs. Mar. But what fhall 
 I make her underftand } Arb. O Mardonhis., 
 For that I muft' be pardoned. Mar., You may ; 
 But I can only fee her then. Arb. 'Tis true -, 
 Bear her this Ring then, and, on more Advice, 
 Thou ftialt fpeak to her : Tell her I do love 
 My Kindred all : W^ilt thou ^. Mar. Is there no more ? 
 
 Arb. And her the beft •, better than a Broth' r loves 
 His Sifter : That is all. Mar. Methinks, this need not 
 Have been deliver'd with fuch Caution ; I'll do it. 
 
 Arb. There is more yet ; Wilt thou be faithful to me ? 
 
 Mar. Sir, if I take upon me to deliver it. 
 After I hear it, I'll pafs through Fire to do it, 
 
 Arb. I love her better than a Brother ought •, 
 Doft thou conceive me .'' Mar. I hope, I do not. Sir. 
 
 Arb. Thou'rt dull, kneel down before her, and ne'er 
 Again, 'till flie will love me. Mar. I think, ftiedoes. [rife 
 
 Arb. But better than fhe does, another Way ; 
 As Wives love Husbands. 
 
 Mar. Why, there are few Wives, 
 That love their Husbands better than fhe does you. 
 
 Arb. Thou wilt not underftand me : Is it fit 
 This fhould be utter'd plainly ? Take it then. 
 Naked as it is : I would defire her Love 
 Lafcivioufly, lewdly, inceftuoufly. 
 To do a Sin that needs muft damn us both j 
 
 0^4 And 
 
232 A Kwgj and No King, 
 
 And thee too : Doll thou underftand me now ? 
 
 Mar. Yes, there's your Ring again ; what have I done 
 Diflioneftly in my whole Life, name it. Sir, 
 That you fhould put fo bafe a Bufincfs to me? 
 
 Arh. Didft thou not tell me, then, that thou wouldft 
 
 Mar. Yes, if I undertook it •, but if all [do it ? 
 
 My Hairs were Lives, I would not be engag'd 
 In fuch a Caufe to fave my lad of Life. 
 
 Arh. O Guilt ! how poor and weak a thing art thou ? 
 This Man that is my Servant, whom my Breath 
 Might blow about the World, might beat me here 
 Having this Caufe -, whillt I, preft down with Sin, 
 Could not rcfift him : Dear MardoniuSj 
 It was a Motion mis-befceming Man, 
 I'm forry for't. Mar. Heav'n grant, you may be fo ! 
 You muft underftand, nothing, that you can utter. 
 Can move my Love and Service from my Prince. 
 Otherwife, I think, I fhall not love you more. 
 For you are finful, snd if you do this Crime, 
 You ouglit to have no Laws. For after this. 
 It will be great Injuftice in you to punifli 
 Any Offender, and for any Crime. 
 For myfelf, I find my Heart too big : I feel, 
 I have not Patience to look on whilft you 
 Run thefe forbidden Courfes. Means I have 
 None but your Favour, and I am rather glad 
 That I ihiall lofc 'em both together, than keep *em 
 With fuch Conditions ; I iliall find a Dwelling 
 Amongft fome People, v/here though our Garments per- 
 Be eoarfe, we fhall be richer far within, [haps 
 
 And harbour no fuch Vices in 'em : The Gods 
 Preferve and mend you ! 
 
 Arlf. Mardo7ms, flay, Mardomus ; for though 
 My prefent State requires nothing but Knaves 
 To be about me, fuch as are prepar'd 
 For every wicked A61, yet who does know. 
 But that my loathed Fate may turn about, 
 And -I have Ufe for honeft Men again ? 
 I hope, I m-.iy ; I prithee, leave me not. 
 
 Entsr 
 
A Ki?7g^ and ?(o King, 2^1 
 
 Enter Beffus. 
 
 Bef. Where is the King ? Mar. There. 
 
 Bef. An't pleafe your Majefty, there's die Knife. 
 
 Jrb. What Knife? 
 
 Bef. The Sword is eaten. 
 
 Mar. Away, you Fool, the King is ferious. 
 And cannot now admit your Vanities. 
 
 Bef. Vanities! I'm no honeft Man, if my Enemies have 
 not brought it to this -, what, do you think, I lye ^ 
 
 Jrb. No, no, 'tis v/ell, Beffus^ 'tis very well; I'm 
 glad on't. 
 
 Mar. If your Enemies brought it to this, your Ene- 
 mies are Cutlers, come leave the King. 
 
 Bef Why, may not Valour approach him ? 
 
 Mar. Yes, but he has Affairs ; depart, or I fliall be 
 fomething unmannerly with you. 
 
 Arb., No, let him flay, Mardonius^ let him flay -, 
 I have Occafion with him very weighty, 
 And I can fpare you now. Mar. Sir? 
 
 Arb. Why, I can fpare you now. 
 
 Bef Mardomus give way to thefe State-Affairs. 
 
 Mar. Indeed, you are fitter for his prefent Purpofe. 
 
 [Exit Mar. 
 
 Arb. Bejfus, I fhould imploy thee, wilt thou do't ? 
 
 Bef. Do't for you ? By this Air, I will do any thing 
 without Exception, be it a good, bad, or indifferent 
 thing. 
 
 Arb. Do not fwear. 
 
 Bef By this Light, but I will, any thing whatfoever. 
 
 Arb. But I fhall name the Thing, 
 Thy Confcience will not fuffer thee to do. 
 
 Bef I would fain hear that Thing. 
 
 Arb. Why, I would have thee get my Sifter for me i 
 Thou underflandft me, in a wicked manner. 
 
 Bef O, you would have a Bout with her ? 
 I'll do't, I'll do't, i' faith. 
 
 Arb. Wilt thou, doft thou make no more on't ; 
 
 Bef More ? No, why is there any thing elfe ? If there 
 be, ir fliall be done too, 
 
 Arb. 
 
3 34 ^ Kmp-j a?2d No Kmo-. 
 
 Jrif. Haft thou no greater Senfe of fuch a Sin ? 
 Thou art too wicked for my Company, 
 Though I have Hell within me, thou may'ft yet 
 Corrupt me further : Pray thee, anfwer me, 
 How do I Ihew to thee after this Motion ? 
 
 Bef. Why, your Majefty looks as well in my Opinion, 
 As ever you did fince you were born. 
 
 Jrl?. But thou appear' ft to me after thy Grant, 
 The uglieft, loathed, deteftable Thing 
 That 1 have met with. Thou haft Eyes 
 Like Flames of Sulphur, which, methinks, do dart 
 Infedion on me ; and thou haft a Mouth 
 Enough to take me in, where there do ftand 
 Four Rows of Iron Teeth. 
 
 Bef. I feel no fuch thing, but 'tis no matter how I 
 look ; I'll do my Bufinefs as well as they that look bet- 
 ter : and when this is difpatch'd, if you have a Mind 
 to your Mother, tell me, and you fliall fee I'll let it 
 hard. 
 
 Jrb. My Mother ! Heav'n forgive mc, to hear this ! 
 I am infpir'd with Horror : Now I hate thee 
 Worfe than my Sin, which, if I could come by. 
 Should fuffer Death eternal, ne'er to rife 
 In any Breaft again. Know, I will die 
 Languiftiing mad, as I refolve I fliall, 
 E'er I will deal by fuch an Inftrument : 
 Thou art too finful to imploy in this ; 
 Out of the World, away ! 
 
 Bef. What do you mean, Sir .'' 
 
 y^rlf. Hung round with Curfes, take thy fearflil flight 
 Into the Defarts, where 'mongft all the Monfters, 
 If thou find'ft one fo bcaftly as thyfelf. 
 Thou ftialt be held as innocent. 
 
 Bef. Good Sir' 
 
 y^rl'. If there were no fuch Inftruments as thou. 
 We Kings could never aft fuch wicked Deeds: 
 Seek out a Man that mocks Divinity, 
 That breaks each Precept both of God and Man, 
 And Nature's too, and does it without Luft, 
 Meerly becaufe it is a Law, and good, 
 
 And 
 
A King^ and No King, 235 
 
 And live with him : for him thou canft not fpoil. 
 
 Away, I fay, I will not do this Sin. {Exit BelTiis. 
 
 I'll prefs it here, 'till it do break my Bread ; 
 
 It heaves me to get out ; but thou art a Sin, 
 
 And fpight of Torture I will keep thee in. [Exit. 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Gobrias, Panthca, and Spaconia. 
 
 Gab. TLT AVE you written. Madam ? 
 "■- ■*■ Pan. Yes, good Gobrias. 
 
 Gob. And with a Kindnefs, and fuch winning Words 
 As may provoke him, at one Inftant, feel 
 His double Fault, your Wrong, and his own Raflincfs ? 
 
 Pan. I have fent Words enough, if Words may win 
 From his Difpleafure ; and fuch Words, I hope, [liim 
 As fliall gain much upon his Goodnefs, Gobrias. 
 Yet fearing, fince they're many, and a Woman's, 
 A poor Belief may follow ; I have woven 
 As many Truths within 'em to fpeak for me. 
 That if he but be gracious, and receive 'cm 
 
 Gob. Good Lady, be not fearful ; though he fhould not 
 Give you your prefent End in this, believe it, 
 (37) You Ihall feel, if your Virtue can induce you 
 To labour out this Temped (wliich I know. 
 Is but a poor Proof 'gainfl your Patience: ) 
 All thofe Contents, your Spirit will arrive at, 
 
 (37) Yau/hallfeely if your Virtue can induce ycu 
 To labour on't. (his Tempefl 'ujhich I htonu. 
 Is but a poor Proof ^gainji your Patience : 
 jill tkofe Contents, your Spirit ix.nll arrive at, 
 Neiver and fixeeter to you,'\ The Corruption of the Letters 
 and Stops of this Paflage hath fpoil'd both Scnfe and Grammar. It 
 fliou'd, without qucllion, be as I have reform'd the Text. The 
 Emendation, I think, felf-evident. Mr. Seiuard. 
 
 I had likewife made this Regulation myfelf. and it is authoriz'd by 
 the old ^arto in 1619. 
 
 Newer 
 
236 A Kingy and No Kino-. 
 
 Newer and fweeter to you ; your Royal Brother, 
 
 "When he fhall once colledl himfelf, and fee 
 
 How far he has been afunder from himfelf ; 
 
 What a mere Stranger to his golden Temper : 
 
 Mud from thofe Roots of Virtue, (never dying, *- 
 
 Though fomewhat ftop'd with Humour,) fhoot again 
 
 Into a thoufand Glories, bearing fair Branches 
 
 High as our Hopes can look at, flraight as Juftice, 
 
 Loaden with ripe Contents ; he loves you dearly, 
 
 I know it, and, I hope, I need not farther 
 
 Win you to underftand it. Pan. I believe it. 
 
 But howfoever, I'm fure, I love him dearly : 
 
 So dearly,, that if any thing I write 
 
 For my Enlarging Ihould beget his Anger, 
 
 Heav'n be a Witnefs with me and my Faith, 
 
 I had rather live intomb'd here, 
 
 Gob. You fliall not feel a worfe Stroke than your Grief, 
 I am forry, 'tis fo fharp; I kifs your Hand, 
 And this Night will deliver this true Story, 
 With this Hand to your Brother. 
 
 Pan. Peace go with you ! 
 You are a good Man. [Exit Gob. 
 My Spaconia^ 
 Why are you ever fad thus ? Spa. O dear Lady, . 
 
 Pan. Prithee, difcover not a Way to Sadnefs, 
 Nearer than I have in me ; our two Sorrows 
 Work lils:e two eager Hawks, who fliall get higheft j 
 How fhaJl I leflen thine ^ for mine, I fear. 
 Is eafier known than cur'd. 
 
 Spa. Heav'n comfort both, 
 And give yours happy Ends, however I 
 Fall in my ftubborn Fortunes ! 
 
 Pan. I'his but teaches 
 How to be more familiar with our Sorrows, 
 That are too much our Mailers : Good Spaconia, 
 How fhall I do you Service .'' Spa. Nobleft Lady, 
 You make me more a Slave dill to your Goodnefs j 
 I only live to purchafe Thanks to pay you. 
 For that is all the Bufinefs of my Life now. 
 I will be bold, fince you will have it fo. 
 
 To 
 
A Kmg^ ajid No King, 237 
 
 To ask a noble Favour of you. 
 
 Pan. Speak it, 'tis yours; for from fo fweet a Virtue, 
 No ill Demand has IlTue. 
 
 Spa. Then, ever virtuous, let me beg your Will 
 Tn helping me to lee the Prince Tigrnnes, 
 Witli v/hom I'm equal Prifoner, if not more. 
 
 Pan. Referve me to a greater End, Spaconia ; 
 Bacurius cannot want fo much Good-manners 
 As to deny your gentle Vifitation, 
 Though you came only with your own Command. 
 
 Spa. I know, they will deny me, gracious Madam, 
 Being a Stranger, and fo httle fam'd, 
 (38) So utter empty of thofe Excellencies 
 That tame Authority ; but in you, fweet Lady, 
 All thefe arc natural ; befide, a Pow'r 
 Deriv'd immediate from your Royal Brother, 
 Whofe leail Word in you may command the Kingdom. 
 
 Pan. More than my Word, Spaconia, you Ihall carry. 
 For Fear it fail you. 
 
 Spa. Dare you trull a Token ^. 
 Madam, I fear, I am grown too bold a Beggar. 
 
 Pan. You are a pretty One, and, truft me, Lady, 
 It joys me, I fhall do a Good to you. 
 Though to myfelf I never Ihall be happy : 
 Here, take this Ring, and from me as a Token 
 Deliver it ; I think, they will not ftay you : 
 So all your own Defires go with you. Lady ! 
 
 Spa. And fweet Peace to your Grace ! 
 
 Pan. Pray Heav'n, I find it. [^Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Tigranes, in Prifon. 
 
 Tigr. Fool that I am, I have undone myfelf, 
 And with my own Hand tum'd my Fortune round. 
 That was a fair one : I have childilhly 
 
 (3F) So utter empty of thofe Excellencies 
 
 That tame Juthority;'\ The oldelt ^arto in i6ig reads, that 
 hwve. Sec. but the ^mr/o's in 1631, 1661, and iC-;-, all concur in 
 giving us tlie Word tame, which, without doubt, is the true Reading. 
 She means, l"he is utterly void of thofe Talents that can have any Con- 
 iroul over People in Office and Power. 
 
 Play'd 
 
2 7S A Kingr, and No Kmcr, 
 
 ^ o -' c> 
 
 PJay'd with my Hope fo long, 'till I have broke it. 
 
 And now too J ate I mourn for't ; O Spaconia ! 
 
 Thou hafl found an even Way to thy Revenge now ; 
 
 "Why didlt thou follow me like a faint Shadow, 
 
 To wither my Defires ? But, wretched Fool, 
 
 Why did I plant thee 'twixt the Sun and me, 
 
 To make me freeze thus ? Why did I prefer her 
 
 To the fair Princefs ? O thou Fool, thou Fool, 
 
 Thou Family of Fools, live hke a Slave Hill ; 
 
 And in thee bear thine own Hell and thy Torment, 
 
 Thou hafl deferv'd it : Couldft thou find no Lady 
 
 But ihe, that has thy Hopes to put her to. 
 
 And hazard all diy Peace? None to abufe. 
 
 But flie that lov'd thee ever ? (poor Spaconia !) 
 
 And fo much lov'd thee, that in Honefly 
 
 And Honour thou art bound to meet her Virtues : 
 
 She, that forgat tlie Greatnefs of her Grief 
 
 (39) And Miferies, that muft follow fuch mad PafTions, 
 
 Endlefs and wild in Women ; fhe that for thee. 
 
 And vv'ith thee, left her Liberty, her Name, 
 
 And Country-, you have paid me, equal Heav'ns, 
 
 And fent my own Rod to correal me with, 
 
 A Woman : for Inconftancy FU fuffer ; 
 
 Lay it on, Juftice, 'till my Soul melt in me 
 
 For my unmanly, beaftly, fudden Doting 
 
 Upon a new Face ; after all my Oaths, 
 
 Many, and ftrange ones. 
 
 I feel my old Fire flame again and burn 
 
 So ftrong and violent, that fhould I fee her 
 
 Again, the Grief and that would kill me. 
 
 (39) And Miferies, that muji followc fuch mad PaJJlotis, 
 
 Endlefs and noild as Wo?nen?'\ Why mull Tigrancs, whilft he 
 is fpeaking in Praife of one Woman, abufe all Women in general ? 
 Befidcs, had he a mind to abufe 'em, and apply the Epithet "wild to 
 them, he ccu'd with no Propriety add the other, endlefs : I hope, I 
 have reftor'd the true Particle, which gives a very different and a very 
 good Senfe to the whole Sentence, /. e. when Women, fo weak to 
 defend themfelves, have fuch ftrong PafTions as to ily their Friends, 
 and follow a Prifoner into an Enemy's Ccuntry, they muft run the 
 Hazard of endlefs and nvild Miferies. Or if the Epithets endlefs and. 
 nvild be apply 'd to PafTions, the Senfe will be much the fame, and the 
 Emendation as necellary, Mr. Sevsar-d. 
 
 Enter 
 
A Krng^ and No Kt72g, 239 
 
 Enter Bacurius and Spaconia. 
 
 Bac. Lady, 
 Your Token I acknowledge, you may pafs ; 
 There is the King. 
 
 Spa. I thank your Lordfliip for it. [Exit Bac. 
 
 Tigr. Slie comes, fhe comes, Shame hide me ever 
 from her, 
 'Would, I were bury'd, or fo far remov'd 
 Lif^^ht might not find me out, I dare not fee her. 
 
 Spa. Nay, never hide yourfelf ^ or were you hid. 
 Where Earth hides all her Riches, near her Center ; 
 My Wrongs without more Day would light me to you : 
 I muft fpeak, e'er I die ; were all your Greatnefs 
 Doubled upon you, you're a perjur'd Man, 
 And only mighty in your Wickednefs 
 Of v/ronging Women. Thou art falfe, falfc. Prince ; 
 I live to fee it, (40) poor Spaconia lives 
 To tell thee thou art falfc j and tell thee more ; 
 ^\\t lives to tell thee, thou art more unconftant. 
 Than all ill Women ever were together. 
 Thy Faith as firm as raging Over-flows, 
 That no Bank can command -, as lafting 
 As Boys* gay Bubbles, blown i'th' Air and broken; 
 The Wind is fix'd, to thee ; and fooner fhall 
 The beaten Mariner with his flirill Whiftle 
 Calm the loud Murmur of the troubled Main, 
 And ftrike it fmooth again ; than thy Soul fall 
 To 've Peace in Love with any : Thou art all. 
 That all good Men muft hate ; and if thy Story 
 Shall tell fucceeding Ages what thou wert, 
 O, let it fpare me in it, left true Lovers, 
 In Pity of my Wrong, burn thy black Legend, 
 And with their Curies, fhake thy fleeping Afties ! 
 
 (40) poor Spaconia li<-jes 
 
 To tell thee thou art falfc ; and then no more ; ] Should not 
 Spaconia {.hen have held her Tongue ? Yes. But does (he fo ? The 
 next Lilies fliew u«, flio does not. To cure this Place, therefore, I 
 think, wc ought to read. 
 
 Tu tell tlet, thou art falfe ; and tell thf€ more ; Mr. Sympfon. 
 
 I'igr,. 
 
240 ^ ^ing^ a?2d No K'uit, 
 
 Tigr. Oh! oh! 
 
 (41) Spa. The Deflinies, I hope, have pointed ouc 
 Our Ends alike, that thou may'fl die for Love, 
 Though not for me j for, tliis afiure thyfelf, 
 The Princefs hates thee deadly, and will fooner 
 Be won to marry with a Bull, and fafer. 
 Than fuch a Bead as thou art. — I have flruck, 
 I fear, too deep ; befhrew me for it ! Sir, 
 This Sorrow works me, like a cunning Friendfhip, 
 Into the fame Piece with it ; he's afham'd, 
 Alas, I have been too rugged : Dear my Lord, 
 1 am forry, I have fpoken any thing. 
 Indeed, I am, that may add more Reftraint 
 To that too much you have : Good Sir, be pleas'd 
 To thinlc it was a Fault of Love, not Malice ; 
 And do, as I will do, forgive it. Prince. 
 I do, and can forgive the greatefl Sins 
 To me you can repent of; pray, believe. 
 
 Tigr, O my Spaconia! O thou virtuous Woman ! 
 
 Spa. No more ; the King, Sir — — 
 
 Enter Arbaces, Bacurius, and Mardonius. 
 
 Jrb. Have you been careflill of our noble Prifoner, 
 That he want nothing fitting for his Greatnefs ? 
 
 Bac. I hope, his Grace will quit me for my Care, Sir. 
 
 yirb. 'Tis well. Royal Tigfanes, Health ! 
 
 Tigr. More than the Stridlnefs of this Place can give. Sir, 
 I offer back again to great Arbaces. 
 
 Arh. We thank you, worthy Prince j and, pray, excufe us. 
 We have not feen you fince your being here ; 
 I hope, your noble Ufage has been equal 
 With your own Perfon : Your Imprifonment, 
 If it be any, I dare fay, is eafy ; 
 And fhall not lafl two Days. 
 
 {^i^x') The Deflinies, I hope, ha^e pointed out 
 Our Ends, that thou mafjl die for Love, 
 Though not for me ;] The Second Verfe is manifeftly defeflive 
 in a whole Foot. The ^«r/o's in 16 19, 163 1, and 1676, all have 
 furnifh'd me with the Word which I have fubflituted into the Text, 
 and which makes out the Verfification. 
 
 "Tigr. 
 
A Ki?jgy and No King, 241 
 
 ^igr. I thank you. Sir. 
 My Ufage here has been the fame it was, 
 Worthy a Royal Conqueror. For my Reftraint, 
 It came unkindly, becaufe much unlook'd-for j 
 But I muft bear it. 
 
 Arb. What Lady's that, Bacurius? 
 Bac. One of tlie Princefs' Women, Sir. 
 Arb. I fear'd it -, 
 Why comes fhe hither ? 
 
 Bac. To fpcak with Prince Tigrane^. 
 Arb. From whom, Bacurius ? 
 Bac. From the Princefs, Sir. 
 Arb. I knew, .1 had fcen her. 
 Mar. His Fit begins to take him now again, 
 'Tis a ftrange Fever, and 'twill fliake us all 
 Anon, I fear •, I would, he were well cur'd of 
 This raging Folly ! Give me the Wars, where Men 
 Are mad, and may talk what they lift, and held 
 The braveft Fellows ; this pelting prating Peace 
 Is good for nothing : Drinking's a Virtue to't. 
 
 Arb. I fee, there's Truth in no Man, nor Obedience, 
 But for his own Ends : Why did you let her in ? 
 
 Bac. *Twas your Command to bar none from him 3 
 befidcs, 
 The Princefs fent her Ring, Sir, for my Warrant. 
 
 Arb. A Token to Tigranes, did fhe not ^ 
 Sir, tell the Truth. Bac. I do not ufe to lie. Sir, 
 'Tis no Way I eat, or live by, and, I think. 
 This is no Token, Sir. 
 
 Mar. This Combat has undone him : If he had been 
 well beaten, he had been temperate ; I lliall never fee 
 him bandfome again, 'till he have a Horfe-man's ftaff 
 yok'd thorough his Shoulders, or an Arm broken with a 
 Bullet. 
 
 Arb. I am trifled with. Bac. Sir.f* 
 Arb. I know it, as I know thee to be falfe. 
 Mar. Now the Clap comes. 
 Bac. You never knew me fo. Sir, I dare fpeak It ; 
 And, durft a worfe Man tell me, though my better — 
 Mar. ' Tis well faid, by my Soul. 
 Vol. I. R Arb. 
 
242 A King^ and No Kni^, 
 
 Arb. Sirrah, you anfwer, as you had no Life, 
 
 Bac. That I fear. Sir, to lofc nobly. 
 
 Arh. 1 fay. Sir, once again. 
 
 Bac. You may fay what you pleafe, Sir, 
 ^ Would, I might do fo ! 
 
 Arh. I will. Sir, and fay openly, this Woman carries 
 Letters ; by my Life, I know, Ihe carries Letters, this Wo- 
 man does it. 
 
 Mar. ' Would, Bejfus were here to take her afide and 
 fearch her! he would quickly tell you what (he carried. 
 Sir. 
 
 Arh. I have found it out, this Woman carries Letters. 
 
 Mar. If this hold, *twili be an ill World for Bawds, 
 Chamber-maids, and Poft-boys. I thank Heav'n, I have 
 none but his Letters-Patents, Things of his own inditing. 
 
 Arh. Prince, this Cunning cannot do't. 
 
 Tigr. Do what. Sir ? I reach you not. 
 
 Arb. It fhall not ferve your Turn, Prince.- 
 
 ^igr. Serve my Turn, Sir ? 
 
 Arh. Ay, Sir, it fhall not fcrve your Turn. 
 
 ^igr. Be plainer, good Sir. 
 
 Arh. This Woman fhall carry no more Letters back to 
 your Love Panthea\ by Heav'n, fhe Ihall not j I fay, Ihe 
 Ihall not. 
 
 Mar. This would make a Saint fvvear like a Soldier; 
 (42) and a Soldier, like 'Termagant. 
 
 Tigr. This beats me more. King, than the Blows you 
 gave me. 
 
 Arh. Take 'em away Both, and together \tt them 
 Prifoners be, ftridlly and clofely kept, or Sirrah, your 
 Life fhall anfwer it ; and let no body fpeak with *em here- 
 after. 
 
 Tigr. Well, I am fubjed to you. 
 And muft indure thefe PafTions ; 
 
 (42) and a Soldier like Termagant.] Thefe Words I h.ivc rctriev'd 
 from the eldell ^arto in 1619. Termagant was an old fwearing, 
 Avaggeiing Charader, well known for feme Centuries paft. It is 
 mcnaon'd by Sh a k espe are in his Hamlet; by Spenser in his 
 Fair)^ ^een; by Chaucer in hii Tale of Sir Thopas, and in feveral 
 aid Plays. 
 
 Spa. 
 
A Kingy and No King, 243 
 
 (43) Spa. This is th' Imprifonment IVe look'd for 
 And the dear Place I wouJd clioofe. [always ; 
 
 \Exeunt Tigr. Spa. Bac. 
 
 Mar. Sir, you have done well now. 
 
 Arb. Dare you reprove it ? M.ar. No. 
 
 Arb. You muft be croiTing me. 
 
 Alar-. I have no Letters, Sir, to anger you. 
 But a dry Sonnet of my Corporal's 
 To an old Suttler's Wife, and that I'll burn. Sir; 
 'Tis like to prove a fine Age for the Ignorant. 
 
 Arb. How darcft thou fo oft forfeit thy I^ife ? 
 Thou know'fl, 'tis in my Power to take it. 
 
 Mar. Yes, and I know you wo' not, or if you do, 
 you'll mifs it quickly. 
 
 Arb. Why .? 
 
 Mar. Who fhall tell you of thefe childifh Follies, 
 "When I am dead ? Who Ihall put to his Power 
 To draw thofe Virtues out of a Flood of Humours, 
 "When they are drown'd, and make 'em fhine again? 
 No, cut my Head off: 
 
 Then you may talk, and be believed, and grow worfe, 
 (44) And have your too fclf-glorious Temper njck'd 
 Into a deep Sleep, and the Kingdom with you ; 
 Till foreign Swords be in your Throats, and Slaughter 
 Be every where about you like your Flatterers. 
 Do, kill me. 
 
 (43) Thii is ty Imprifonment Vve holC d for al-ujays'\ But, furely, 
 Tigranes had no Reafon to look for, or fufpeft, any fuch Treatment. 
 Tiie eldeft Quarto in 1619, and that of 1676, place this Verle and 
 the fubfequent one to the Beginning of Spaconia'i Speech; and they 
 certainly bdong to her. She blefies her Fare, that Ihe h to be with 
 her Tigranes, tlio' in a Prifon. I own, tho' I would not venture to 
 depart fo far from the Text, I could wilh we might fuppofe, the 
 Authors had wrote ; 
 
 This is th'' Imprifonment P-ve long'd for aliuays. 
 For flie had no more Reafon to look for it, than Tigranes had. 
 
 (44) And ha-ve your too felf-glorious Temper rot 
 
 Into a deep Sleep ] B^hdes the Impropriety of rotting into 
 S/eep, the Exprellion ib toj coarfe for the Charailer o{ Mardoniusi 
 who, tho' bold and honelt, is not abufive. I hope, I have reltor'd 
 the original Word. Mr. Seivard 
 
 Thit Fmendaiion is finely imagin'd ; and is fufficiently confirm'd 
 by the three Verfcs that follow. 
 
 R 2 ArK 
 
244 ^ Kbig^ and No King, 
 
 Arh. Prithee, be tamer, good Mardonitis, 
 Thou know'ft, I love thee ; nay, I honour thee ; 
 Behcve it, good old Soldier, I am thine ; 
 But \ am rack'd clean from myfelf, bear with me, 
 Woo't thou bear with me, my Mardonius ? 
 
 Enter Gobrias. 
 
 Mar. There comes a good Man, love him too, he's 
 temperate. 
 You may live to have Need of fuch a Virtue, 
 Rage is not ftill in Fafhion. 
 
 Jrb Welcome, good Gobrias. 
 
 Gob. My Service and this Letter to your Grace, 
 
 Arb. From whom? 
 
 Gcb. From the rich Mine of Virtue and all Beauty, 
 Your mournful Sifter. 
 
 Arb. She is in Prifon, Gobrias^ is fhe not ? ' 
 
 Gob. She is. Sir, till your Pleafure do enlarge her. 
 Which on my Knees I beg. Oh, 'tis not fit. 
 That all the Sweetnefs of the World in one. 
 The Youth and Virtue that would tame wild Tygers, 
 And wilder People, that have known no Manners, 
 Should live thus cloiiler'd up ; for your Love's fake. 
 If there be any in that noble Heart, 
 To her a WTetched Lady, and forlorn j 
 Or for her Love to you, which is as much 
 As Nature and Obedience ever gave. 
 Have Pity on her Beauties. 
 
 Arb, Pray thee, fland up •, 'Tis true, ihe is too fair, 
 A.nd all thefe Commendations but her own; 
 'Would, thou hadit never fo commended her. 
 Or I ne'er liv'd to have heard it, Gobrias! 
 If thou but knew'ft the WroTig her Beauty does her. 
 Thou wouldll in Pity of her be a Lyar ; 
 Thy Ignorance has drawn me, wretched Man, 
 Whither myielf, nor thou, can'ft well tell : O my Fate ! 
 I think, fhe loves me, but, I fear, another 
 Is deeper in her Heart: How think'fl thou, Gobrias? 
 
 Gob. I do befeech your Grace, believe it not ; 
 For, let me perifli, if it be not falfe ! Good Sir, read 
 her Letter. Mar, 
 
A Kingy a?:d No King. 245 
 
 Mar, This Love, or what a Devil it is, I know not, 
 begets ir.ore Mifchief than a Wake. I had rather be well 
 beaten, flarv'd, or loufy, than live within the Air on't. 
 He, that had feen this brave Fellow charge through a 
 Grove of Pikes but t'other Day, and look upon him now, 
 will ne'er believe his Eyes again : If he continue thus 
 but two Days more, a Tailor may beat him with one 
 Hand tied behind him. 
 
 Arb. Alas, fhe fain would be at Liberty. 
 And there be a thoufand Reafons, Gobrias, 
 Thoufands that will deny't : 
 Which, if (Ke knew, fhe would contentedly 
 Be where fhe is, and blefs her Virtues for it, 
 And me, though fhe were clofcr ; flie would, Gobrias^ 
 Good Man, indeed, flie would. 
 
 Gob. Then, good Sir, for her Satisfaclion, 
 Send for her, and with Reafon make her know 
 Wiiy fhe muft live thus from you. 
 
 Arb. I will ; go bring her to me. \Exeiint. 
 
 Enter BefTus, two Sword-men^ and a Boy. 
 
 Bef. You're very welcome Both •, fome Stools there. 
 And reach a Table ; Gentlemen o' th' Sword, [Boy, 
 
 Pray fit without more Complement ; be gone, Child. 
 I have been curious in the fearching of you, 
 Becaufe I underftand you wife and valiant. 
 
 1 Sw. We underftand ourfclves. Sir. 
 
 Bef. Nay, Gentlemen, and my dear Friends o'th* Sword, 
 No Complement, I pray ; but to the Caufe 
 I hang upon, which in few, is my Honour. 
 
 2 Sw. You cannot hang too much, Sir, for your Honour; 
 But to your Caufe 
 
 Bef. Be wife, and fpeak the Truth -, my firft Doubt is. 
 My Beating by my Prince. 
 
 1 Sw. Stay there a little. Sir; do you doubt a Beating? 
 Or have you had a Beating by your Prince ? 
 
 Bef Gentlemen o'th' Sword, my Prince has beaten me. 
 
 2 Sw. Brother, what think you of this Cafe ? 
 
 1 Sw. If he has beaten him, the Cafe is clear. 
 
 2 Sw. If he have beaten him, I grant the Cafe ; 
 
 R 3 But 
 
246 A Kmg^ a?id No King, 
 
 But how ? We cannot be too fubtle in this Bufinels, 
 I fay, but how ? 
 
 Bef. Even with his Royal Hand. 
 
 I Sw. Was it a Blow of Love, or Indignation ? 
 
 Bef. 'Twas Twenty Blows of Indignation, Gentlemen; 
 Befides two Blows o'th' Face. 
 
 (45) 2 Sw. Thofe Blows o'th' Face have made a new 
 Caufe on't, 
 The reft were but an honourable Rudenefs. 
 
 1 Sw. Two Blows o'th' Face, and given by a worfe 
 Man, I muft confefs, as the Sword-men fay, had turn'd 
 the Bufinefs : Mark me. Brother, by a worle Man : But 
 being by his Prince, had they been Ten, and thofe Ten 
 drawn Ten Teeth, befides the Hazard of his Nofe for 
 ever-, all this had been but Favours: This is my flat 
 Opinion, which I'll die in. 
 
 2 Sw. The King may do much, Captain, believe it ; 
 for had he crack'd your Skull through, like a Bottle, or 
 broke a Rib or two with toffing of you, yet you had loft 
 no Honour : This is ftrange, you may imagine, but this 
 is Truth no-^'^ Captain. 
 
 Bef. I will be glad to embrace it, Gentlemen ; 
 But how far may he ftrike me ? 
 
 1 Sw. There is another : A new Caufe rifing from the 
 Time and Diftance, in which I wUl dehver my Opinion : 
 He may ftrike, beat, or caufe to be beaten : For thefe 
 are natural to Man : Your Prince, I fay, may beat you, 
 fo far forth as his Dominion reachcth, that's for the Di- 
 ftance J the Time ten Miles a-Day, I take it. 
 
 2 Sw. Brother, you err, 'tis fifteen Miles a-Day ; 
 His Stage is ten, his Beatings are fifteen. 
 
 Bef. 'Tis of the longeft, but we Subjefts muft — • 
 1 Sw. Be fubjed to it -, you are Wife and Virtuous. 
 Bef. Obedience ever makes that noble Ufe on't, 
 To which I dedicate my beaten Body j 
 
 (45) Thofe Blonxjs 0^ th"" Face haaie made a new Caufe on'tt 
 
 The reft nvere but an horrible Rudenefs.'] The laft, I am Aire, 
 is an horrihU rough, as well as defedlive, Verfe. The ^artos of 
 1619, and 1676 have the Epithet, which I have rellored in the 
 Text, 
 
 I muft 
 
A King^ a?td No King, 247 
 
 I mud trouble you a little further, Gentlemen o'th' Sword. 
 
 2 Sw. No Trouble at all to us, 6ir, if we may 
 Profit your Underftanding, we arc bound 
 By virtue of our Calling to utter our Opinions, 
 Shortly, and difcreetly. 
 
 Bef. My foreft Bufinefs is, I have been kick'd. 
 
 2 Sw. How far. Sir? 
 
 (46) Bef. Not to flatter myfclf in it, all over; my 
 Sword loll, but not forc'd ; for difcreetly I rendred it, to 
 fave that Imputation. 
 
 1 Sw. It iLew'd Difcretion, the bell Part of Valour. 
 
 2 Sw. Brother, this is a pretty Caufe j pray, ponder 
 Our Friend here has been kick'd. [on't \ 
 
 I Sw. He has fo, Brother. 
 - 2 Sw. Sorely, he fays : Now, had he {^it. down liere 
 Upon the meer Kick, 't had been cowardly, 
 
 1 Sw. I think, it had been cowardly indeed. 
 
 2 Svj. But our Friend has redeem'd it, in delivering 
 His Sword without Compulfion •, and diat Man, 
 That took it of him, I pronounce a weak one, 
 
 And his Kicks Nullities. 
 
 He Ihould have kick'd him after the delivering. 
 
 Which is the Confirmation of a Coward. 
 
 1 Sw. Brother, I take it, you millake the Queftion j 
 For, fay, that I were kick'd. 
 
 2 Sw, I muft not fay fo ; 
 
 (46) "Nottofiattermyfelfinit, all over; viy S'-u-JfJ forc'd, l>uf ftot 
 loll ;j This is as abfurd and ridiculous a Tranfpofition (made thro' 
 the Error of the Copyifts, or at Prefs) as we fliall meet with in haftc. 
 Tho' BeJ}/s was by Nature and Habit a Lyar, yet here he meant to 
 rrprefent the State of his Cafe fcrioufly to the Savord-men, to have 
 their Opinion upon it. We find in a preceding Scene, that, upon 
 Bacuiius difcovering him to be a notorious Poltron, he orders him to 
 unbuckle and deliver up his Sword. Bejfus obeys, and does it with 
 a Gafconade ; faying, it is a pretty Hilt, and if his Lordjoip takes 
 an Aff(8ion to it, ivith all his Heart he'll prefent it to him for a 
 l^'eiv-y cars gift. How then was his SwoxA forced from him? It was 
 not; for he immediately fubjoins here to the Snvord-men ; for I dif- 
 creetly render'd it to fave that Imputation. All the Editions concur 
 in the Blunder; and, I imagine, the moll accurate Readers may have 
 ilip'd over this Abfurdity. Let the two Words forc'd and lojl change 
 Places, and then all is clear, and the Fadl truly Hated. 
 
 R 4 Nor 
 
248 A King^ and No King. 
 
 Nor I mud not hear it fpoke by Tongue of Man. 
 You kick'd, dear Brother ! l'ou*re merry. 
 
 1 Sw. But put the Cafe, I were kick'd ;— 
 
 2 Sw. Let them put it, that are Things weary of their 
 Lives, and know not Honour j put the Cafe, you were 
 kick'd ? 
 
 1 Sw. I do not fay, I was kick'd. 
 
 2 Sw. Nor no filly Creature that wears his Head with- 
 out a Cafe, his SovJ in ?. Skin-coat : You kick'd, dear 
 Brother ? 
 
 Be[. Nay, Gentlemen, let us do what we fhall do. 
 Truly and honeftly j good Sirs, to the Queftion. 
 
 1 Sw. Why, then 1 fay, fuppofe your Boy kick'd. 
 Captain ? 
 
 2 Sw. The Boy may be fuppos'd, he's hable. 
 But kick my Brother ? 
 
 I Sw. A fooHOi forward Zeal, Sir, in my Friend ; 
 
 But to the Boy,' Suppofe, the Boy were kick'd. 
 
 £ef. I do fuppofe it. 
 
 I Sw. Has your Boy a Sword ? 
 
 Bef. Surely, no ; I pray, fuppofe a Sword too, 
 
 1 Sw. I do fuppofe it ; you grant, your Boy was 
 kick'd then. 
 
 2 Sw. By no means. Captain, let it be fuppofed flill ; 
 the Word Grant makes not for us. 
 
 (47) I Sw. I fay this m.uft be granted. 
 
 2 Sw. 
 
 (47) I Sw. / fay, this muft be granted. 
 2 Sw. This muft be granted. Brother ? 
 
 1 Sw. j^y, this muft be granted. 
 
 2 Sw. Still this muft, bfc.'\ The Poets here are flirting (I was 
 almoft going to fay, invidioufly) at a Paflage in Shakespeare's 
 Ccriolanus. 
 
 // is a Mind 
 
 That fhall remain a Poifon ^^K-here it is. 
 
 Not poi/on ariy further. 
 Cor. Shall reyttain ? 
 
 Hear you this Triton of the Minnoixji? Mark you 
 
 His ahfolute ftiall ? 
 Com.^7'was from the Canon. 
 Ccr. Shall? 
 
 — — ■ Have you thus 
 
 Gii>n Hydra here to chgoft an Officer^ 
 
 Thai 
 
A King-i a7td No King, 249 
 
 2 Sw. This muft be granted. Brother ? 
 
 1 Sw. Ay, this muft be granted. 
 
 2 Sw. Still, this muft? 
 
 1 Sw. I fay, this muft be granted. [palter. 
 
 2 Sw. Ay, give me the muft again ? (48) Brother, you 
 
 1 Sw. I will not hear you, Wafp. 
 
 2 Sw. Brother, I fay, you palter ; the Muft three times 
 together ? I wear as fharp Steel as another Man, and my 
 Fox bites as deep-, mufted, my dear Brother? 
 
 But to the Caufc again. 
 
 Bef. Nay, look you. Gentlemen. 
 
 2 Sw. In a Word, I ha' done. 
 
 I Sw. A tall Man, but intemperate, 'tis great Pity j 
 Once more iijppofe the Boy kick'd. 2 Sw. Forward. 
 
 1 Sw. And, being thoroughly kick'd, laughs at the 
 Kicker. 
 
 2 Sw. So much for us ; proceed. 
 
 1 Sw. And in this beaten Scorn, as I may call it. 
 Delivers up his Weapon i where lies the Error ? 
 
 Bef. It lies i*th' Beating, Sir, I found it four Days fince. 
 
 2 Sw. The Error, and a fore one, as I take it. 
 Lies in the Thing kicking. 
 
 Bef. I underftand that well, 'tis fo, indeed. Sir. 
 
 1 Sw. That is according to the Man that did it. 
 
 2 Sw. There Iprings a new Branch, whofe was the 
 Foot ? 
 
 Bef A Lord's. 
 
 *rhat luith his peremptory fliall — — — 
 
 ^— — — — They choofe their Magijirate ! 
 
 And fuch a one as he, luho puts his fhall. 
 
 His popular fhall, l^c. 
 
 (48) 2 Sw, — — Brother, you palter. 
 
 1 Ssv. / luill not hear you, Wafp.] Here again is a Sneer upon 
 that celebrated quarrelling Scene betwixt Brutus and Cajfius^ in 
 Shakespeare's "Julius Ceefar. 
 
 Muji I budge ? 
 
 Muji I ohfer've you ? MuJl I jland and crouch 
 
 Under your telly Humour ? By the Gods, 
 
 Tou Jljall digeji the Venom of your Spleen, 
 
 'Tho' it do fplit you. For, from this Day forth, 
 
 I ''I I ufe you for my Mirth, yea, for my Laughter, 
 
 When ycu arc wafpiili. 
 
 I Sw. 
 
250 A Kingy and No King, 
 
 1 Sw. The Caufe is mighty, but had it been two Lords, 
 And Both had kick'd you, if you laugh'd, 'tis dear. 
 
 Bef. I did laugh. 
 But how will that help me. Gentlemen ? 
 
 2 Sw. Yes, it fhall help you, if you laugh'd aloud. 
 Bef. As loud as a kick'd Man could laugh, I laugh'd. 
 
 Sir. 
 
 1 Sw. My Reafon now ; the valiant Man is known 
 By fuffering and contemning it ; you have 
 Enough of both, and you are valiant. 
 
 2 Sw. If he be fure, he has been kick'd enough : 
 For that brave Sufferance you fpeak of, Brother, 
 Confifts not in a Beating and away. 
 
 But in a cudgell'd Body, from eighteen 
 
 To eight and thirty ; (49) in a Head rebuk'd 
 
 With Pots of all fize, Daggers, Stools, and Bed-flaves ; 
 
 This fhows a valiant Man. 
 
 (49) — — in n Head rchuJCd 
 
 With Pots of all Size, degrees ; Stoois and Bed-Jlaves ; 
 This Jheivs a 'valiant il/«w.] What an inharmonious Line is 
 this Second here ? Befides, where is the mighty Difference betwixt 
 Size and Degrees ? What then if we {hould read Daggers P There is 
 a pleafant Paffage in Plautus's Perfian about Parafites, whom he 
 flyles hard-headed Fellows, becaufe they had frequently Things 
 thrown at their Pates. 
 
 His Cognomentum erat duris Capitonibus. 
 Cafauhon has this Note upon the PJace. Olim inter alia Injirumenta 
 ferditi Luxus, et Matulee in Triclinia inferri folit^ ; quas ftepe, 
 uhi incaluijfenty in Capita Jibi invicem illiferunt. Hinc diSli prop- 
 terea Parafiti, duri Capitones. Mr. Sympfon. 
 
 My Friend has deliver'd his Conje£lure, about fubftituting Daggers, 
 with Diftruft and Difapprobation. But, I believe, I fhall foon over- 
 come his Modefty ; and demonftrate the Emendation to be moft cer- 
 tain. In the firft Place, the Word has the Sanflion of the oldeft 
 i^arto in 1619. Then, again, afterwards, where Mardonius is cha« 
 rafterizing Bejfus to Lygones, he fays, 
 
 — He has had. Jince he luas firji a Sla've, 
 At leajl three Hundred Daggers fet in'' s Head, 
 As little Boys do Kni'ues in hot Meat ; 
 So, in "Rule a Wife and ha've a Wife ; 
 
 From thence to th' Dicing- Houfe, there I found Quarrels, 
 Needlefs and fenfelefs. Swords, Pots. Candlejlicks, 
 Tables f and Stools, and all in one Confufon, 
 And no Man knevj his Friend. 
 The Word, Si/Jords, here, is plainly equivalent to Daggers. 
 
 Bef. 
 
A Kiiig^ and No Ki?7g. 251 
 
 Bef. Then I am valiant, as valiant as the proudeft. 
 For thefe are all familiar Things, to me ; 
 Familiar as my Sleep, or Want of Money ; 
 All my whole Body's but one Bruife with Beating, 
 I think I have been Cudgell'd with all Nations, 
 And almoft all Religions. 
 
 2 Siv. Embrace him, Brother, this Man is valiant. 
 I know it by myfelf, he's valiant. 
 
 1 Siv. Captain, thou art a valiant Gentleman, 
 To abide upon't, a very valiant Man. 
 
 Bef. My equal Friends o' th' Sword, I muft requeft 
 Your Hands to this. 2 Sw. 'Tis fit it fhould be. 
 
 Bef. Boy, 
 Get me fome Wine, and Pen and Ink within : 
 Am I clear, Gentlemen ? 
 
 1 Sw. Sir, when the World has taken Notice what 
 we have done, 
 
 Make much of your Body, for I'll pawn my Steel, 
 Men will be coyer of their Legs hereafter. 
 
 Bef. I muft requeft you go along and teftify to the 
 Lord Bacurius, whofe Foot has ftruck me, how you find 
 my Caufe. 
 
 2 Sw. We will, and tell that Lord, he muft be rul'd; 
 Or there are thofe, abroad, will rule his Lordftiip. 
 
 lExeunf. 
 
 Enter Arbaces, at one Door -, and Gobrias, and Panthea 
 at another. 
 
 Gob, Sir, here's the Princefs. 
 
 Arb. Leave us then alone. 
 For the main Caufe of her Imprifonment 
 Muft not be heard by any, but herfelf. [^Exit Gob. 
 You're welcome. Sifter ; and I would to Heav'n, 
 I could fo bid you by another Name : 
 If You above love not fuch Sins as thefe. 
 Circle my Heart with Thoughts as cold as Snow, 
 To quench thefe rifing Flames that harbour here. 
 
 Pan. Sir, does it pleafe you, I fliould ipeak ? 
 
 Arb. Pleafe me .'' 
 Ay, more than all the Art of Mufick can j 
 
 Thy 
 
252 A King^ a7id No King, 
 
 Thy Speech doth pleafe me, for it ever founds. 
 
 As thou brought'ft joyful unexpeded News \ 
 
 And yet it is not fit thou fhouldll be heard. 
 
 I pray thee, think fo. Pa7i. Be it fo, I will. 
 
 I am the firfl, that ever had a Wrong 
 
 So far from being fit to have Redrefs, 
 
 That 'twas unfit to hear it : I will back 
 
 To Prifon, rather than difquiet you, 
 
 And wait till it be fit. Arb. No, do not "-q •, 
 
 For I will hear thee with a ferious Thought : 
 
 I have collefted all that's Man about me 
 
 Together flrongly, and I am refolv'd 
 
 To hear thee largely ; but I do befeech thee. 
 
 Do not come nearer to me, for there is 
 
 Something in that, that will undo us Both. 
 Tan. Alas, Sir, am I Venom ? 
 Arh. Yes, to me ; 
 
 Though, of thyfelf, I think thee to be in 
 
 As equal a Degree of Heat or Cold, 
 
 As Nature can make : Yet as unfound Men 
 
 Convert the fweeteft and the nourifhing'fl Meats 
 
 Into Difcafes •, fo fhall I, diflemper'd. 
 
 Do thee -, I pray thee, draw no nearer to me. 
 Fan. Sir, this is that I would : I am of late 
 Shut from the World, and why it fhould be thus, 
 Is all I wifh to know. Arb. Why, credit me, 
 Panthea.^ credit me that am thy Brotlier, 
 Thy loving Brother, that there is a Caufc 
 Sufficient, yet unfit for thee to know. 
 That might undo thee everlaftingly. 
 Only to hear ; wilt thou but credit this ? 
 By Heav'n, 'tis true ; beheve it, if thou can'ft. 
 Pan. Children and Fools are ever credulous. 
 And I am Both, I think, for I believe j 
 If you dilTemble, be it on your Head ; • 
 
 I'll back unto my Prifon : Yet, methinks, i 
 
 I might be kept in fome Place where you are ; ■ 
 
 For in myfelf, I find I know not what 
 To call it, but it is a great Defire <; 
 
 To fee you often. v 
 
A Ki?tgy and No King, 253 
 
 Arh. Fie, you come in a Step, what do you mean ? 
 Dear Sifter, do not fo : Alas, Panthea^ 
 Where I am, would you be ? Why, that's the Caufe 
 You are imprifon'd, that you may not be 
 Where I am. 
 
 Pan. Then I mull endure it. Sir -, Heav'n keep you ! 
 
 Arh. Nay, you Ihall hear the Caufe in lliort, Panthea ; 
 And, when thou hear'fi: it, thou wilt blufh for me ; 
 And hang thy Head down hke a Violet 
 Full of the morning Dew : There is a Way 
 To gain thy Freedom, but *tis fuch a one 
 As puts thee in worfc Bondage, and, I know. 
 Thou wouldft encounter Fire, and make a Proof 
 Whether the Gods have Care of Innocence, 
 Rather than follow it : Know, that I've loll. 
 The only Difference betwixt Man and Beaft, 
 My Reafon. Pan. Heav'n forbid! 
 
 Arh. Nay, it is gone; 
 And I am left as far without a Bound, 
 As the wild Ocean, that obeys the Winds ; 
 Eacli fudden Paffion throws me where it lifts. 
 And overwhelms All diat oppofe my Will : 
 I have beheld thee with a luftful Eye : 
 My Heart is fet on Wickednefs to a6t 
 Such Sins widi thee, as I have been afraid 
 To think of ; if thou dar'ft confent to this. 
 Which, I befeech thee, do not, thou may'ft gain 
 Thy Liberty, and yield me a Content ; 
 If not, thy Dwelling muft be dark and clofe. 
 Where I may never fee thee ; for, Heav'n knows. 
 That laid this Puniftiment upon my Pride, 
 Thy Sight at fome time will enforce my Madnefs 
 To make a Start e'en to thy Raviftiing \ 
 Now Ipit upon me, and call all Reproaches 
 Thou can'ft devife together, and at once 
 Hurl 'em againft me ; for I am a Sicknefs 
 As killing as the Plague, ready to feize thee. 
 
 Pan. Far be it from me to revile the King! 
 But it is true, that 1 fliall rather choofe 
 To fearch out Death, that elfe would fearch out me, 
 
 And 
 
254 ^ Kingy and No King, 
 
 And in a Grave flcep with my Innocence, 
 Than welcome fuch a Sin : It is my Fate, 
 To thefe crofs Accidents f was ordain 'd. 
 And muft have Patience ; and but that my Eyes 
 Have more of Woman in 'em than my Heart, 
 I would not weep : Peace enter you again I 
 
 ylrb. Farewel, and, good Panthea, pray for mc ; 
 Thy Prayers are pure, that I may find a Death 
 However foon, before my Paffions grow, 
 That they forget what I defire is Sin ; 
 For thither they are tending : If that happen. 
 Then I fhall force thee, tho' thou wert a Virgin 
 By Vow to Heaven, and fhall pull a Heap 
 Of ftrange, yet uninvented, Sin upon me. 
 
 Pan. Sir, I will pray for you, yet you Ihall l^Jiow 
 It is a fullen Fate that governs us ; 
 For I could wifh as heartily as you 
 I were no Sifter to you, I fliould then 
 Embrace your lawful Love, fooner than Health. 
 
 Arb. Couldft thou affect me then ? 
 
 Pan. So perfedly. 
 That, as it is, I ne'er fhall fvvay my Heart 
 To like another. Jrb. Then I curie my Birth j 
 Muft this be added to my Miferies 
 That thou art willing too ? Is there no Stop 
 To our full Happinefs, but thefe meer Sounds, 
 Brother and Sifter? 
 
 Pan. There is nothing elfe, 
 But thefe, alas! will feparate us more 
 Than twenty Worlds betwixt us. 
 
 Arb, I have liv'd 
 To conquer Men, and now am overthrown 
 Only by Words, Brother and Sifter : Where 
 Have thofe Words Dwelling .? I will find *em out, 
 And utterly defb-oy 'em ♦, but they are 
 Not to be grafp'd : Let *em be Men or Beafts, 
 And I will cut 'em from the Earth -, or Towns, 
 And I will raze 'em, and then blow 'em up : 
 Let 'em be Seas, and I will drink 'em off. 
 And yet have unquench'd Fire left in my Breaft : 
 
 Let 
 
A King^ and No King, 255 
 
 Let 'em be any thing but mccrly Voice. 
 
 Pan. But 'tis not in the Pow'r of any Force, 
 Or Policy, to conquer them. Arb. Panthea, 
 What fliall we do? Shall we ftand firmly here. 
 And gaze our Eyes out ? Pm. * Would, I could do fo ! 
 But I Ihall weep out mine, ylrb. Accurfed Man, 
 Thou bought'Il thy Reafon at too dear a Ratej 
 For thou haft all thy Adions bounded in 
 With curious Rules, when ev'ry Beall is free : 
 What is there that acknowledges a Kindred, 
 But wretched Man ? Who ever faw the Bull 
 Fearfully leave the Heifer that he lik'd, 
 Becaufe they had one Dam ? Pan. Sir, I difturb 
 You and myfelf too; 'twere better I were gone. 
 
 Arb. I will not be fo foolifli as I was. 
 Stay, we will love juft as becomes our Births, 
 No otherwife : Brothers and Sifters may 
 Walk Hand in Hand together ; fo will we. 
 Come nearer : Is there any Hurt in this ? 
 
 Pan. I hope not, Sir. 
 
 Arb. Faith, there is none at all : 
 And tell me truly now, is there not one 
 You love above me .'' 
 
 Pan. No, by Heav'n. Arb. Why yet 
 You fent unto Tigranes., Sifter. Pan. True, 
 But for another : For the Truth — — * Arb. No more. 
 I'll credit thee, thou canft not lie. 
 Thou art all Truth. 
 
 Pan. But is there nothing elfe. 
 That we may do, but only walk .'* Methinks, 
 Brothers and Sifters lawfully may kifs. 
 
 Arb. And fo they may, Panthea, fo will we. 
 And kifs again too ; we were too fcrupulous. 
 And foolifli J but we will be fo no more. 
 
 pan. If you have any Mercy, let me go 
 To prifon, to my Death, to any thing : 
 I feel a Sin growing upon my Blood, 
 Worfe than all thefe, hotter, I fear, than yours. 
 
 Arb. That is impoflible, what /hou'd we do ? 
 
 Pan, 
 
256 A Kmg^ and No King. 
 
 Pan. Fly, Sir, for Heav'ns fake. 
 Arb. So we mull ; away ! 
 Sin grows upon us more by this Delay. 
 
 [ Exeunt., fever al ways. 
 
 ACTV. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Mardonius and Lygones. 
 
 Mar. C I R? the King has feen your Commiffion, and 
 ^ believes it j and freely by this Warrant gives you 
 Power to vifit Prince Tigranes, your noble Mafter. 
 
 Lyg. I thank his Grace, and kifs his Hand. 
 
 Mar. But is the Main of all your Bufinefs ended in this ? 
 
 Lyg. I have another, but a worfe ; I am afham'd, it is 
 a Bufinefs, 
 
 Mar. You ferve a wordiy Perfon, and a Stranger, I am 
 fure, you are; you may employ me if you pleafe without 
 your Purfe, fuch Offices fhould ever be their own Re- 
 wards. 
 
 Lyg. I am bound to your Noblenefs. 
 
 Mar. I may have Need of you, and then this Courtefy, 
 If it be any, is not ill beftowed ; 
 (50) But may I civilly defire the reft ^ 
 I fhall not be a Hurter, if no Helper. 
 
 Lyg. Sir, you fhall know ; I have loft a foolifti Daughter, 
 And with her all my Patience, pilfer'd away 
 By a mean Captain of your King's. 
 
 Mar. Stay there. Sir : 
 If he have reach 'd the noble Worth of Captain, 
 He may well claim a worthy Gentlewoman, 
 
 (50) But may I ci'villy dejire the rejl f] Mardcnius may feem here, 
 at lirfl: View, to be over-inquifitive into the Secrets of one, whom lie 
 had never feen before : but he, firll, offers him his belt Services with- 
 out Fee, or Reward. But the Motive of the Poets for this Curiouty 
 was to let the Audience be inform'd that Lygones was the Father of 
 Spaconia ; and that a fcurvy Captain, belonging to Arbaces, had pil- 
 fer'd her away from hira. 
 
 Though 
 
A Kmg^ and No King, 257 
 
 Though flie were yours, and noble. 
 
 Lyg. I grant all that too : But this wretched Fellow 
 Reaches no further than the empty Name, 
 That fervcs to feed him ; were he valiant, 
 Or had but in him any noble Nature, 
 That might hereafter promife him a good Man, 
 My Cares were fo much lighter, and rhy Grave 
 A Span yet from me. 
 
 Mar. I confefs, fuch Fellows 
 Be in all Royal Camps, and have and mufl be, 
 To make the Sin of Coward more detefted 
 In the mean Soldier, that with fuch a Foil 
 Sets off much Valour. By Defcription 
 I Ihould now guefs.him to you; it vras Bejfus, 
 I dare almofl with Confidence pronounce it. 
 
 Lyg. *Tis fuch a fcurvy Name as Bejfus^ and now I 
 think, 'tis he. 
 
 Mar. Captain, do you call him ? 
 Believe me. Sir, you have a Mifeiy 
 Too mighty for your Age : A Pox upon him ? 
 For that muft be the End of all his Service : 
 Your Daughter was not. mad, Sir.^* 
 
 Lyg. No-, 'would, Ike had been! 
 The Fault had had more Credit : I would do fomething. 
 
 Mar. I would fain counfel you, but to what, I Icnr w not, 
 He's fo below a Beating, that the Women 
 Find him not worthy of their Diftaves, and 
 To hang him were to caft away a Rope •, 
 He's fuch an airy, tliin, unbodied Coward, 
 That no Revenge can catch him: I'll tell you, Sir, 
 And Truth ; this Rafcal fears nor God nor Man, 
 He has been fo beaten : Sufferance has made him 
 Wainfcot ; he has had fince he was firft a Slave, 
 At leaft three hundred Daggers fet in's Head, 
 As little Boys do new Knives in hot Meat, 
 There's not a Rib in's Body, o' my Confcicnce, 
 That has not been thrice broken with dry Beating : 
 And now his Sides look like two Wicker Targets, 
 Every way bended ; Children will lliortly take mm 
 For a Wall, and fet their Stone-bows in his Forehead, 
 
 Vol. I. S He's 
 
258 A Kingy and No King. 
 
 He's of fo bafe a Senfe, I cannot in 
 
 A Week imagine what fhall be done to him. 
 
 Lyg. Surely, I have committed fome great Sin 
 That this bafe Fellow fhould be made my Rod. 
 I would fee him, but I fhall have no Patience. 
 
 Mar. 'Tis no great matter if you have not : If 
 A Laming of him, or fome fuch Toy may do 
 You Pleafure, Sir, he has it for you, and 
 ril help you to him : 'tis now News to him 
 To have a Leg broken, or Shoulder out. 
 With being turn'd o' th' Stones like Tanfy : Draw not 
 Your Sword, if you do love it ; for, on my Confcience, 
 His Head will break it : we ufe him i'th' Wars 
 Like to a Ram to fhake a Wall withal. 
 Here comes the veiy Perfon of him, do 
 As you fhall find your Temper, I mull leave you : 
 But if you do not break him like a Bisket, 
 You're much to blame. Sir. [Exit Mar. 
 
 . Enter BefTus and the Sword-men, 
 
 Lyg. Is your Name Bcjfus ? 
 
 Bef. Men call me Captain Bejftis. 
 
 Lyg. Then, Captain Bejfus, 
 You're a rank Rafcal, without more Exordiums, 
 A dirty frozen Slave ; and with the Favour 
 Of your Friends here, I will beat you. 
 
 z Sw. Pray, ufe your Pleafure, Sir ; 
 You feem to be a Gentleman. 
 
 Lyg. Thus, Captain Bejfus, thus ; 
 Thus twinge your Nofe, thus kick, thus tread upon you; 
 
 Bef, I do befeech you, yield your Caufe, Sir, quickly* 
 
 Lyg. Indeed, I fhould have told that firft. 
 
 Bef. I take it fo. 
 
 I Siv. Captain, he fhould, indeed ; he is miflaken. 
 
 Lyg. Sir, you fhall have it quickly, and more Beating r 
 You have ftol'n away a Lady, Captain Caward, 
 And fuch an one — [Beats him, 
 
 Bef. Hold, I befeech you, hold. Sir, 
 I never yet ftole any living Thing 
 I'hat had a Tooth about it. Lyg. I know you dare lie^ 
 
 Bef. 
 
A King-i a?td No King, 259 
 
 Bef. With none but Summer Whores upon my Life, Sir j 
 My Means and Manners never could attempt 
 Above a Hedge or Haycock. 
 
 Lyg. Sirrali, that quits not me, where is this Lady ? 
 Do that, you do not ufe to do, tell Truth, 
 Or, by my Hand, I'll beat your Captain's Brains out, 
 Wafli *em, and put 'em in again, that will L 
 
 Bef. There was a Lady, Sir, I muft confefs. 
 Once in my Charge : The Prince Tigranes gave her 
 To my Guard for her Safety, how I us'd her 
 She may herfelf report, flie's with the Prince now : 
 I did but wait upon her like a Groom, 
 Which fhe will teftify, I'm fure : If not, 
 My Brains are at your Service when you pleafe, Sir, 
 And glad I have 'em for you. 
 
 Lyg. This is moft likely ; Sir, 
 I ask your Pardon, and am forry I 
 Was fo intemperate. Bef. Well, I can ask no more. 
 You will think it ftrange now to have me beat you 
 At the firft Sight. Lyg. Indeed, I would; but, I know. 
 Your Goodnefs can forget twenty Beatings, you mufb 
 L'orgive me. 
 
 Bef. Yes, there's my Hand, go where you will, 
 I fhall diink you a valiant Fellow for all this. 
 
 Lyg. My Daughter is a Whore, I feel it now 
 Too fenfible ; yet I will fee her once, 
 Difcharge myfelf from being Father to her. 
 And then back to my Country, and there die : 
 Farewel, good Captain, \^Exit Lyg. 
 
 Bef, Farewel, Sir, farewel, 
 Commend me to the Gentlewoman, I pray. 
 
 1 Sw. How now. Captain .'' Bear up, Man. 
 
 Bef. Gentlemen o'th' Sword, your Hands once more ; 
 I have been kick'd again, but the foohfii Fellow is Peni- 
 tent, h'as ask'd me Mercy, and my Honour's fafe. 
 
 2 Sw. We knew that, or the foolifh Fellow had better 
 have kick'd his Grandfire. 
 
 Bef Confirm, confirm, I pray. 
 
 I Szv. There be our Hands again, now let him come 
 And fay he was not forry, and he fleeps for it, 
 
 S 2 Bef 
 
26o A Ki^fr and No Khior. 
 
 Bsf. Alas! good ignorant old Man, let liim go, let him 
 go, thele Courfes will undo him. {^Exeunt, 
 
 Enter Lygones and Bacurius. 
 
 Bac. My Lord, your Authority is good, and I am glad 
 it is fo ; for my Confent would never hinder you irom fee- 
 ing your own King : I am a Minifter, but not a Governor 
 of this State J yonder is your King, I'll leave you. [Exit. 
 
 Enter Tigranes and Spaconia. 
 
 Lyg. There he is, indeed, and widi him my difloyal 
 Child. 
 
 Tygr. I do perceive my Fault fo much, that yet, 
 Methmks, thou fliouldft not have forgiven me. 
 
 Lyg. Health to your Majefly ! 
 
 T^igr. What, good Lygones! 
 Welcome, what Bufinefs hath brought thee hither? 
 
 Lyg. Several-, my pubhck Bufinefs will appear 
 By this -, I have a Mefiage to deliver. 
 Which if it pleafe you fo to authorize, 
 Is an EmbafTage from th' Armenian State, 
 Unto Arhaces for your Liberty : 
 The Offer's there fet down, pleafe you to read It. 
 
 Tigr. There is no Alteration happen'd fince 
 I came thence .'' Lyg. None, Sir, all is as it was. 
 
 5%r. And all our Friends are well ? 
 
 Lyg. All very well. 
 
 S^a. Though I have done nothing but what was good, 
 I dare not fee my Father, it was Fault 
 Enough not to acquaint him with diat Good. 
 
 Lyg. Madam, I fhould have feen you. 
 
 Spa. Good Sir, forgive me. 
 
 Lyg. Forgive you, why ? I am no Kin t'you, am I ? 
 
 Spa. Should it be meafur'd by my mean Deferts, 
 Indeed, you are not. 
 
 Lyg. Thou could 'ft prate unhappily. 
 E'er thou could'fl go; 'would, thou could'fl do as well! 
 And how does Cuflom hold out here.'* Spa. Sir ? 
 
 Lyg. Are you 
 In private flill, or how.^ Spci^^, What do you mean.'* 
 
A Ktngy and No Kt7ig, 261 
 
 Lyg. Do you take Money? Are you come to fell 
 Sin yet ? 
 Perhaps, I can help you to fome liberal Clients : 
 Or has not the King call you off yet ? O thou 
 Vile Creature*, whofe bcft Commendation is, 
 That thou art a young Whore. I would thy Mother 
 Had liv'd to fee this, or rather that I had died 
 E*er I had feen it ; why didft not make me acquainted 
 When thou wert firll rcfolv'd to be a Whore, 
 I would have feen thy Jiot Lull fatisfied 
 More privately : I would have kept a Dancer 
 And a whole Confort of Muficians 
 In my own Houfe only to fiddle to thee. 
 
 Spa. Sir, 1 was never Whore. 
 
 Lyg. If thou could 'ft not 
 Say fo much for thyfelf, thou fhould'ft be carted. 
 
 ^igr. hygones^ I have read it, and I like it ; 
 You Ihall deliver it. Lyg. Well, Sir, I will : but I've 
 A private Bufinefs with you. 'Tigy- Speak, what is*t.^ 
 
 Lyg. How has my Age deferv'd fo ill of you. 
 That you can pick no Strumpets in the Land, 
 But out of my Breed t 
 
 Tigr. Strumpets, good Lygoms? 
 
 Lyg. Yes, and I wifh to have you know, I fcorn 
 To get a Whore for any Prince alive. 
 And yet Scorn will not help : methinks, my Daughter 
 Might have been fpar'd, there were enow belides. 
 
 ^igr. May I not profper but fhe's innocent 
 As Morning Light for me, and 1 dare fwear 
 For all the World. Lyg. Why is fhe v;ith you then ? 
 Can fhe wait on you better than your Man, 
 Has fhe a Gift in plucking off your Stockings, 
 Can fhe make Cawdles well, or cut your Corns ? 
 "Why do you keep her with you.'' For a Queen 
 I know, you do contemn her, fo fhould I, _ 
 And every Subjed elfe think much at it. 
 
 Tigr. Let 'cm think much, but 'tis more firm than 
 Earth : 
 Thou fee* ft thy Queen there. Lyg. Then have I made a fair 
 Hand on't : 1 cali'd her Whore. If I fhail fpeak 
 
 S 3 Now 
 
262 A King^ and No King, 
 
 Now as her Father, I cannot chufe but greatly 
 Reioice that fhe fhall be a Queen : but if" I 
 Shall fpeak to you as a Statefman, Ihe were more fit 
 To be your Whore. 
 
 I^igr. Get you about your Bufinefs to Arhaccs^ 
 Now you talk idly, Lyg. Yes, Sir, I will go, 
 And fhall fhe be a Queen ? Die had more Wit 
 Than her old Father, when fhe ran away : 
 Shall fhe be Queen ? now, by my Troth, 'tis fine, 
 I'll dance out of all Meafure at her Wedding : 
 Shall I not. Sir? 'ligr. Yes, many, fhalt thou. 
 
 hyg. I'll make thefe withered Kexes bear my Body 
 Two Hours together above Ground. Tigr, Nay, go, 
 My Bufinefs requires Hafte. 
 
 Lyg. Good Heav'n preferve you ! 
 You are an excellent King. Spa. Farewel, good Father. 
 
 Lyg. Farewel, fweet virtuous Daughter, 
 I never was fo joyful in all my Life, 
 That I remember : fhall fhe be a Queen ? 
 Now I perceive a Man may weep for Joy, 
 I had thought they had lied that faid fo. \_Ei(.it Ligones. 
 
 'J'igr. Come, my dear Love. 
 
 Spa. But you may fee another 
 May alter that again, ^igr. Urge it no more, 
 I have made up a new flrong Conllancy, 
 Not to be fhook with Eyes : I know, I have 
 The PalTions of a Man, but if I meet 
 With any Subjed that fhould hold my Eyes 
 More firmly than is fit, I'll think of thee. 
 And run aw^y from it : let that fuffice. [Excuni. 
 
 Enter Bacurius and his Servant. 
 
 Bac. Three Gentlemen without to Ipeak with me ? 
 
 Ser. Yes, Sir. 
 
 Bac. Let them come in. 
 
 Enter Be/Tus with the two Swcrd-men. 
 
 Ser, They are entred. Sir, already. 
 
 Bac. Now, Fellows, your Bufinefs? Are thefe the 
 
 Gentlemen ? 
 
A King^ and No King, 263. 
 
 Bef. My Lord, I have made bold to bring thefe Gen- 
 tlemen, my Friends o'th' Sword, along with me. 
 
 Bac. I am afraid, you'll fight tlien. 
 
 Bef. My good Lord, I will not. 
 Your Lordfliip's much miftakenj fear not. Lord. 
 
 Bac. Sir, I am forry for't. 
 
 Bef. I ask no more in Honour ; Gentlemen, you hear 
 my Lord is forry. 
 
 Bac. Not that I have beaten you, but beaten one that 
 will be beaten j One whofe dull Body will require a La- 
 ming, 
 
 As Surfeits do the Diet, Spring and Fall. 
 Now to your Sword-men; what come they for, good 
 Captain Stock-fifh ? 
 
 Bef It feems, your Lordlhip has forgot my Name. 
 
 Bac. No, nor your Nature neither, though they are 
 Things fitter, I muft confefs, for any thing, 
 I'han my Remembrance, or any honeft Man's : 
 What fhall thefe Billets do ; be pil'd up in my Wood- 
 yard ? 
 
 Bef. Your Lordfhip holds your Mirth ftill, Ffeav'n 
 continue it ! but for thefe Gentlemen, they come — — 
 
 Bac. To fwear you are a Coward, fpare your Book, I. 
 do believe it. 
 
 Bef. Your Lordfhip flill draws wide, they come to vouch 
 Under their valiant Hands I am no Coward. 
 
 Bac. That would be a Show, indeed, worth feeing: 
 Sirs, be wife, and take Money for this Motion, travel! 
 with it •, and where the Name of Beffus has been known, 
 or a good Coward ftirring, 'twill yield more than a Tilt- 
 ing. This will prove more beneficial to you, if you be 
 thrifty, than your Captainfhip, and more natural : Men 
 of mofl valiant Hands, is this tme.'' 
 
 2 Sw. It is fo, moil renowned. 
 
 Bac. 'Tis fomewhat flrange. 
 
 I Sw. Lord, it is ftrange, yet true ; 
 We have examined from your Lordfhip's Foot there. 
 To this Man's Head, the Nature of the Beatings ; 
 And we do find his Honour is come off 
 Clean and fufficient : this, as our Swords fhall help us,' 
 
 S 4 Bac. 
 
264 A King^ and No Ki7tg, 
 
 Bac. You are much bounden to your BUho Men, 
 Fm glad you're ftraight again -, Captain, 'twere good. 
 You'd think on fome way how to gratify them, 
 They've undergone a Labour for you, Bejfus, 
 'Would have puzzled Hercules with all his VaJour 
 
 2.5-ry. Your Lordlhip muft underftand, we are no Men 
 o'th' Law, that! take Pay for our Opinions : it is fuffi- 
 cient we have clcar'd our Friend. 
 
 Bac. Yet there is fomething due, which I, as touch'd in 
 Cofifcience, will difcharge, Captain j I'll pay tiiis Rent 
 for you. 
 
 Bef. Spare yourfelf, my good Lord ; my brave Friends 
 aim at nothing but the Virtue. 
 
 Bac. That's but a cold Difcharge, Sir, for their Pains. 
 
 2 Sw. O Lord, my good Lord. 
 
 Bac. Be not fo modeft, I will give you Something. 
 
 Bef. They fhall dine with your Lordfhip, that's fufH- 
 cient. 
 
 Bac. Something in Hand the while, you Rogues, you 
 Apple-Squires : 
 
 Do you come hither with your bottled Valour, 
 Your windy Froth, to limit out my Beatings ? 
 
 1 Sw. I do befeech your Lordfhip. 
 
 2 Sw. O, good Lord ! 
 
 Bac. S'foot, what a beavy of beaten Slaves are here .'' 
 Get me a Cudgel, Sirrah, and a tough one. 
 
 2 <S%;.."More of your Foot, I do befeech your Lord- 
 lhip. 
 
 Bac. You fhall, you fhall. Dog, and your Fellow-beagle. 
 
 I Sw. O' this fide, good my Lord. 
 
 Bac. Oft with your Swords, 
 For if you hurt my Foot, ?11 have you flead. 
 You Rafcals. 
 
 1 Sw. Mine's off, my Lord. 
 
 2 Sw. 1 befeech your Lordlhip, flay a little, my Strap's 
 tied to m.y Cod-piece Point : nov/, when you pleafe. 
 
 Bac. Captain, thefe are your valiant Friends, you long 
 for a little too ? 
 
 Bef. I am very well, I humbly thank your Lordfhip. 
 Bac. Y/hat's that in your Pocket hurts my Toe, you 
 
 Mungril ? 
 
A Khig^ and No Kbig. 265 
 
 Miingi-il ? Thy Buttocks cannot be fo hard, out with it 
 quickly. 
 
 2 Sw. Here 'tis, Sir, a fmall Piece of Artillery, that 
 a Gentleman, a dear Friend of your Lordiliip's, fent me 
 with, to get it mended, Sir; for, if you mark, the Nofe 
 is fomewhat loofe. 
 
 Bac, A Friend of mine, you Rafcal ? I was never wearier 
 of doing any thing, than kicking tliefe two Foot-balls. 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 
 Ser. Here is a good Cudgel, Sir. 
 
 Bac. It comes too late, I'm weary ; pray thee, do thou 
 beat them. 
 
 2 Siv. My Lord, this is foul Play, i'faith ; to put a 
 freih Man upon us -, Men are but Men, Sir. 
 
 liac. That Jeaft fhall fave your Bones ; Captain, rally up 
 your rotten Regiment, and be gone : I had rather thrafh 
 than be bound to kick thefe Rafcals, 'till they cry'd. Ho ; 
 BeJJus, you may put your Hand to them now, and then 
 you are quit. Farewel, as you like this, pray vifit me 
 again, 'twill keep me in good Health. [Exit Bac. 
 
 2 Sw. H'as a devilifli hard Foot, I never felt the like. 
 
 1 S-w. Nor I, and yet, I am fure, I have felt a hun- 
 dred. 
 
 2 Sw. If he kick thus i'th' Dog-days, he will be dry- 
 foundred: What Cure now. Captain, befides Oil of 
 Bays .? 
 
 Bef. Why, well enough, I warrant you ; you can go. 
 2 Sw. Yes, Heav'n be thanked ; but I feel a fhrew'd 
 Ach ; fure, h'as fprang my Huckle-bone. 
 
 1 Sw. I ha' loft a Hanch. 
 
 Bef. A little Butter, Friend, a little Butter, Butter and 
 Parflcy is a Sovereign Matter : prohatum eft. 
 
 2 Sw. Captain, we mull requeft your Hand now to our 
 Honours. 
 
 Bef. Yes, marry, fhall ye, and then let all the World 
 come, we are valiant to ourfclves, and there's an end. 
 
 1 Sw. Nay, then, we muft be valiant -, O my Ribs. 
 
 2 Sw. O my fmall Guts ! a Plague upon thefe fharp- 
 toed Shoes, they arc Murthercrs ! \Exeunt. 
 
 Enter 
 
266 A King^ and No Kmg, 
 
 Enter Arbaces, with his Sword draw)!. 
 
 (5 1) Arb. It is refolv'd : — I bare it whilft I could, 
 I can no more -, Hell, open all thy Gates, 
 And I will thorough them : If they be fhut, 
 ril batter 'em, but I will find the Place 
 Where the moft Damn'd have Dwelling : E'er I end, 
 Amongft them all they Ihall not have a Sin, 
 But I may call it mine : I mufl begin 
 Wi'th' Murder of my Friends, and fo go on, 
 To that inceftuous Ravifhing, and end 
 My Life and Sins with a forbidden Blow 
 Upon myfelf. 
 
 Enter Mardonius. 
 
 Mar. What Tragedy is near ? 
 That Hand was never wont to draw a Sword, 
 But it cry'd Dead to fomething. Arb. Mardonius, 
 Have you bid Gobrias come ? 
 
 Mar. How do you, Sir ? 
 
 Arb. Well ; is he coming ? 
 
 Mar. Why, Sir, are you thus ? 
 Why do your Hands proclaim a lawlefs War 
 Againft yourfelf ? ■ 
 
 (51) It is refolv'd: I bare It ivhiljl I could, 
 
 I can no more ;[----.-- 
 
 - - - - - - - - ] I mitji begin 
 
 With Murther of my Friends, &c.] Thus this PafTage has 
 ftood from the firll Edition quite downwards. But, furely, no Cha- 
 rafter was ever introduced on the Stage, with a Sword drawn and an 
 Intention of Self-Murther; and fo little faid, to explain to the Au- 
 dience the Drift of what he was about. But neither Abfurdity in 
 This, or Barrennefs of Invention, are to be placed to the Account of 
 the Authors. The noble intermediate Lines^ which I have inferted, 
 are owing to the invaluable ^arto in 16 19. I fufpedl, why they 
 were dropp'd ; they border, indeed, a little upon Impiety : and the 
 Precifenefs of the Players, or their wife Manager, could not judge 
 them proper to be fpoken ; tho' Arbaces, through the whole Play, i» 
 drawn a Man of the moft wild and extravagant Paffions; tho' he was 
 almoft befides himfelf with the Thought of his intended Inceft ; and 
 tho' he fhew'd the utmoft Contempt of Religion^ in that confirm'd 
 Madnefs of coming up to a Refolution of deftroying himfelf. 
 
 Arb. 
 
A K'mg^ and No King, 267 
 
 Arh. Thou anfwerefl me one Qucftion with another 
 Is GisM't^J coming ? Mar. Sir, he is. -r^r<^. 'Tis weU 
 I can forbear your Queftions then, be gone. 
 
 Mar. Sir, 1 have mark'd, • 
 
 Arh. Mark lefs, it troubles you 
 And me. Mar. You are more variable than you were. 
 
 Arb. It may be fo. Mar. To Day no Hermit could be 
 Humbler than you were to us all. 
 
 Arh. And what of this ? 
 
 Mar. And now you take new Rage into your Eyes, 
 As you would look us all out of the Land. 
 
 Arh. I do confcfs it, will that fatisfy } 
 I prithee, get thee gone. Mar. Sir, I will Ipeak. 
 
 Arh. Will ye? Mar. It is my Duty. 
 I fear, you'll kill yourfelf : I am a Subje<5l, 
 And you fliall do me Wrong in't : 'tis my Caufe, 
 And I may fpeak. Arh. Thou art not train'd in Sin. 
 It feems, Mardonius : kill myfelf ! by Heav*n, 
 I will not do it yet ; and when I will, 
 I'll tell thee then, I fhall be fuch a Creature, 
 I'hat thou wilt give me Leave without a Word. 
 (52) There is a Method in Man's Wickednefs, 
 It grows up by degrees : I am not come 
 So high as killing of myfelf, there are 
 A hundred thoufand Sins 'twixt me and it. 
 Which I muft do, and I fhall come to*t lait; 
 But take my Oath, not now ; be fatislied. 
 And get thee hence. 
 
 Mar. I'm forry, 'tis fo ill. 
 
 (53) Arh. Be forry then, true Sorrow is alone. 
 Grieve by thyfelf. ■ 
 
 (52) There is a Method in Man's Wickednefs, 
 
 It groivs up hy degrees. '\ This Thought is plainly borrow'd 
 from Juvenal's Satires; (as I had mark'd in the Margin of my 
 3ook, and as Mr. Sympfon likewife hinted to me) 
 Nemo rcpente /";<// turpiflimus. 
 
 (53) Be forry then ; true Sorroiv is alone ; 
 
 Grie-ve by thyfelf] This Refleaion is as evidently (hadow'd 
 out from one of Martial's Epigrams. 
 II le dolet veie, j«/ fine Tefte dolet. 
 
 This, 
 
268 A King^ and No King, 
 
 Mar. I pray you, let me fee your Sword put up 
 Before 1 go : I'll leave you then. 
 
 Arh. \\ hy, fo ; — what Folly is this in thee ? is it not 
 As apt to Mifchief as it was before ? 
 Can I not reach it, think'ft thou ? thefe are Toys 
 For Children to be pleas'd with, and not Men, 
 Now I am fafe, you think : I would, the Book 
 Of Fate were here -, my Sword is not fo fure 
 But I would get it out and mangle that. 
 That all the DeRinics fhould quite forget 
 Their fix'd Decrees, and hafte to make us new, 
 Far other Fortunes ; mine could not be worfe ; 
 "Wilt thou now leave me ? 
 
 Mar. Heav'n put into your Bofom temperate Thoughts ! 
 I'll leave you, though I fear. — — [Exit Mar. 
 
 Arh. Go, thou art honeft. 
 Why Ihould the hafty Error of my Youth 
 Be fo unpardonable to draw a Sin 
 Helplefs upon me ? ' 
 
 Enter Gobrias. 
 
 Coh. There is the King, now it is ripe. 
 
 (54) Arh. Draw near, -thou guilty Man, 
 That art the Author of the loathed'fl Crime 
 Five Ages have brought forth, and hear me fpeak ; 
 Cui fcs incurable, and all the Evils 
 Man's Body or his Spirit can receive. 
 Be with thee ! 
 
 Gch. Why, Sir, do you curfe me thus ? 
 
 Arh. Why do I curfe thee ? if there be a Man 
 Subtle in Curfes, that exceeds the reft. 
 His worft Wifh on thee ! thou haft broke my Heart. 
 
 This, if I remember right, was thus render'd by our facetious 
 ^Tom Bronvn. 
 
 That Man grie'ves with a Witrefs, ivho grienjes without one. 
 
 (54) Draiv near, thou guilty Man ] The fubfequent Scenes, to the 
 End of the ^May, have been through the whole Courfe of the Impref- 
 fion'- deliver'd down to us as Profe ; but I have rertor'd them to their 
 drift Merre and Verfificition : And thro' my whole Edition (where the 
 Interpolation?, or Cailrations, by the Stage do not obflruft me in it) 
 I fhall endeavour to do our Authors the fame Juftice. 
 
 Gob. 
 
A Kt7ig^ and No King. 269 
 
 Gel. How, Sir, have I preferv'd you from a Child, 
 t'rom all the Arrows Malice or Ambition 
 Could ihoot at you, and have I this for Fay ? 
 
 Arh. 'Tis true, thou didft prefcrve me, and in that 
 Wert crueller than hardned Murtherers 
 Of Infants and their Mothers ? thou didft fave me. 
 Only till thou hadft ftudied out a Way 
 How to deftroy me cunningly thyfelf : 
 This was a curious Way of Torturing. 
 
 Gob. What do you mean ? 
 
 Arh. Thou know' ft the Evils thou haft done to me ; 
 Doft thou remember all thofe witching Letters 
 Thou fcnt'ft unto me to Armenia., 
 Fill'd with the Praife of my beloved Sifter, 
 Where thou extol'dft her Beauty ; what had I 
 To do with that ? What could her Beauty be 
 To mc ? And thou didft write how well ftie lov'd mc, 
 Doft thou remember this? So that I doted 
 Something before I faw her. Gob. This is true. 
 
 Arb. Is it? and when I was return'd, thou know'ft, 
 Thou didft purfue it, 'till thou wound'ft me in 
 To fuch a ft range and unbeliev'd Affedion, 
 As good Men cannot think on. 
 
 Gob. This I grant -, 
 I think, I was the Caufe. Arb. Wert thou ? Nay, more, 
 I think, thou meant'ft it. Gob. Sir, I hate to lie. 
 As I love Heav'n and Honefty, I did ; 
 It was my Meaning. Arb. Be thine own fad Judge, 
 A further Condemnation will not need ; 
 Prepare thyfelf to die. Gob. Why, Sir, to die ? 
 
 Arb. W hy ftiouldft thou live ? was ever yet Oftendcr 
 So impudent, that had a Thought of Mercy 
 After Confeflion of a Crime like this ? 
 Get out I cannot where thou hurl'ft me in. 
 But I can take Revenge, that's all the Sweetnefs 
 Left for me. 
 
 Gob. Now's the Time; hear me but Ipeak. 
 
 Arb. No, yet I will be far more merciful 
 Than tliou wert ro me-, thou didft fteal into me. 
 
 And 
 
270 A Kiiig^ a?id No King. 
 
 And never gav'fl me Warning ; {^^) fo much Time 
 
 As I give thee now, had prevented me 
 
 For ever. Notwithflanding all thy Sins, 
 
 If thou haft Hope, that there is yet a Prayer 
 
 To fave thee, turn and fpeak it to thyfelf. 
 
 Gob. Sir, you fhall know your Sins, before you do 'em ; 
 If you kill me, — Arb. I will not ftay then. Gob. Know, 
 You kill your Father. Arb. How.^ 
 
 Gob. You kill your Father. 
 
 Arb. My Father ? though I know it for a Lye, 
 Made out of Fear to fave thy ftained Life, 
 The very Reverence of the Word comes crofs me. 
 And ties mine Arm down. Gob. I will tell you that 
 Shall heighten you again, I am thy Father; 
 I charge thee, hear me. Arb. If it fhould be fo. 
 As 'tis moft falfe, and that I fhould be found 
 A Baftard Iflue, the defpifed Fruit 
 Of lawlefs Luft, I fhould no more admire 
 All my wild Paflions : but another Truth 
 Shall be wrung from thee : if I could come by 
 The Spirit of Pain, it fhould be pour'd on thee, 
 'Till thou allow*ft thyfelf more full of Lies 
 Than he that teaches thee. 
 
 Enter Arane. 
 
 Ara. Turn thee about, 
 1 come to fpeak to thee, thou wicked Man, 
 Hear me, thou Tyrant. Arb. I will turn to thee; 
 Hear me, thou Strumpet •, I have blotted out 
 The Name of Mother, as thou haft thy Shame. 
 
 Ara. My Shame ! thou haft lefs Shame than any thing ; 
 Why doft thou keep my Daughter in a Prifon? 
 Why doft thou call her Sifter, and do this ? 
 
 ^(jj) . /omuchTime 
 
 As 1 ginie thee noiu, had fre^jentcd thee 
 
 For e'ver.'\ The eldell Quarto in 1619 gives us the genuine 
 Text; pre'vented me. I had not taken notice of fo minute a Varia- 
 tion, but that the Sagacity of the ingenious Mr. Sev:ard pointed it 
 out to nae as abfolutely neceffary to the Senfe- 
 
 Arb, 
 
A Kingy and No Kmg, 271 
 
 A'b. Ceafe thy ftrange Impudence, and anfwer quickly; 
 If thou contcmn'ft me, this will ask an Anfwer, 
 And have it. Jra. Help me, gentle Gobrias. 
 
 Arb. Guilt dares not help Guilt; though they grow 
 together 
 In doing 111, yet at the Punifhment 
 They fever, and -each flies the Noife of other ; 
 Think not of Help, anfwer. Ara. I will; to what? 
 
 Arb. To fucli a thing, as if it be a Truth, 
 Think, what a Creature thou haft made thyfelf, 
 'J 'hat didll not fliame to do, what I muft blufh 
 Only to ask thee : Tell me who I am, 
 Whofe Son I am, without all Circumrtance ; 
 Be thou as hafty as my Sword will be. 
 If thou refufeft. Ara. Why, you are his Son. 
 
 Arb. His Son ? fwear, fwear, thou worfe than Wo- 
 man damn'd. 
 
 Ara. By all that's good, you are. 
 
 Arb. Then art thou all 
 That ever was known bad, now is the Caufe 
 Of all my ftrange Misfortunes come to Light : 
 What Reverence expedeft thou from a Child, 
 To bring forth which thou haft offended Heav'n, 
 Thy Husband, and the Land ? Adulterous Witch \ 
 I know now why thou wouldft have poifon'd me, 
 I was thy Luft which thou wouldft have forgot : 
 Thou wicked Mother of my Sins, and me. 
 Show me the Way to the Inheritance 
 I have by thee ; which is a Ipacious World 
 Of impious Afts, that I may foon pofTefs it : 
 Plagues rot thee, as thou liv'ft, and fuch Difeaies 
 As ufe to pay Luft, recompence thy Deed ' 
 
 Gob. You do not know why you curfe thus. 
 
 Arb. Too well; 
 You are a pair of Vipers ; and behold 
 The Serpent you have got ; there is no Beaft 
 But if he knew it, has a Pedigree 
 As brave as mine, for they have more Defcents, 
 And I am every way as beaftly got. 
 
 As 
 
272 A Kingy and No Kino-,' 
 
 As far without the Compais of a Law 
 As they. 
 
 ylra. You Ipend your Rage and Words In vain. 
 And rail upon a Gucfs ; hear us a httle. 
 
 Jrb. No, I will never hear, but talk away 
 My Breath, and die. Gcb. Why, but you are no Ballard. 
 
 yirb. How's that ? Ara. Nor Child of mine. 
 
 Arb. Still you go on 
 In Wonders to me. Gob. Pray you, be more patient ; 
 I may bring Comfort to you. Arb. I will kneel, 
 And hear v;ith the Obedience of a Child ; 
 Good Father, fpeak; I do acknowledge you, 
 So you bring Comfort.- 
 
 Gob. Firft know, our laft King, your fuppofcd Father ■ 
 Was old and feeble when he married her. 
 And almoft all the Land thought her pail Hope 
 Of I Hue from him. Arb. Therefore fhe took Leave 
 To play the Whore, becaufe the King was old ; 
 Is this the Comfort } Ara. What will you find out 
 I'o give me Satisfadlion, when you find 
 How you have injur'd me.^* Let Fire confume me. 
 If ever I were Whore ! Gob. Forbear thefe Starts, 
 Or I will leave you wedded to Delpair, 
 As you are now : If you can find a Temper, 
 My Breath Ihall be a pleafant v/ellern Wind 
 That cools and blalts not. 
 
 Arb. Bring it out, good Father. 
 1*11 lie, and liften here as reverently 
 As to an Angel : If I breathe too loud. 
 Tell me ; for I would ,be as ilill as Night. 
 
 Gob. Our King, I fay, was old, and tiiis our Queen, 
 Defir'd to bring an Heir, but yet her Husband 
 '5>\\z thought, was paft it •, and to be difhonell, 
 I think, Ihe would not; If Ihe would have been. 
 The Truth is, Ihe v/as watch'd fo narrowly, 
 And had fo flender Opportunities, 
 She hardly could have been : But yet her Cunning 
 Found out this way ; llie feign' d herfelf with Child, 
 And Polls were fent in hade throughout the Land, 
 
 And 
 
A King^ and No King. 273 
 
 {^6) And God was humbly thank'd in ev'ry Church, 
 I'hat fo had blefsM the Queen ; and Prayers were made 
 For her fafe Going and Dehvery : 
 She feign'd now to grow bigger, and perceiv'd 
 This Hope of Iffue made her fear'd, and brought 
 A far more large Relped from every Man, 
 And faw her Pow'r encreafe, and was refblv'd 
 Since, ihe behev'd, fhe could not have't indeed. 
 At Icafl fhe would be thought to have a Child. 
 
 Jrb. Do I not hear it well ? Nay, I will make 
 No Noife at all -, but pray you to the Point, 
 Quick as you can. Gob. Now when the Time was full, 
 S\\t Ihould be brought to Bed, I had a Son 
 Born, which was You ; this, the Qiieen hearing of, 
 Mov'd me to let her have you ; and fuch Reafons 
 She fhew'd to me, as fhe knew well would tie 
 My Secrecy, fhe fwore you fhould be King ; 
 And, to be fhort, I did deliver you 
 Unto her, and pretended you were dead. 
 And in mine own Houfe kept a Funeral, 
 And had an empty Coffin put in Earth. 
 That Night this Queen feign'd haftily to labour. 
 And by a pair of Women of her own. 
 Which flie had charm' d, fhe made the World believe. 
 She was delivered of you. You grew up 
 As the King's Son, till you were fix Years old ; 
 Then did the King die, and did leave to me 
 Prote6lion of the Realm ; and, contrary 
 To his own Expectation, left this Queen 
 Truly with Child, indeed, of the fair Princefs 
 Panthea : Then fhe could have torn her Hair, 
 And did alone to me, yet durft not fpeak 
 in Publick, for flie knew flie fliould be found 
 A Traitor -, and her Tale would have been thought 
 Madnefs, or any thing rather than Truth. 
 
 (56) j^nd God nvas humbly thank'd in e<vcry Church, 
 
 That fo had blefs'd the ^aen.] This Paflage is only to be 
 found in the two ^arto's of 1619, and 1676 ; but without them 
 the whole Vcrfification is difconcerted, and made imperfect. 
 
 Vol. I, T This 
 
2 74 ^ Ki7tgy and No King, 
 
 This was the only Caufe why {he did feek 
 To poifon you, and I to keep you fafe ; 
 And this the Reafon, why I fought to Idndle 
 Some Sparks of Love in you to fair Panthea^ 
 That fhe might get part of her Right again. 
 
 Arh. And have you made an End now ? Is this all ? 
 If not, I will be dill till I be aged ; 
 Till all my Hairs be Silver. Goh. This is all. 
 
 Arh. And is it true, fay you too, Madam ? 
 
 Ara. Yes, 
 Heav'n knows, it is moft true. Arh. Panthea then 
 Is not my Sifter.'' Gob. No. 
 
 Arh. But can you prove this ^ 
 
 Gob. Jf you will give Confent, elfe who dares go 
 About it. Arh. Give Confent ? 
 Why I will have *em all that know it rack'd. 
 To get this from *em ; All, diat wait without. 
 Come in, whate'er you be, come in and be 
 Partakers of my Joy : O, you are welcome. 
 
 Enter BefTus, Gentlemen, Mardonius, and other 
 Attendants. 
 
 Arh. Mardonius, the beft News ! nay, draw no nearer j 
 They all lliall hear it, I am found no King. 
 
 Mar. Is that fo good News.^ 
 
 Arb. Yes, the happieft News 
 That e'er was heard. Mar. Indeed, 'twere well for you 
 If you might be a little lefs obey'd. 
 
 Arb. One call the Queen. Mar. Why, fhe is there. 
 
 Arb. The Queen, 
 Mardonius ; Panthea is the Qiieen ; 
 And I am plain Arb aces \ go fome one. 
 She is in Gobrias' Houfe ; and, fince I faw you. 
 There are a thoufand Things delivered to me. 
 You little dream of {Exit a Gentleman, 
 
 Mar. So it ifhould feem : My Lord, 
 What Fury's this.'' Gob. Believe me, 'tis no Fury, 
 All that he fays is Truth. Mar. 'Tis very ftrange. 
 
 Arh. Why do you keep your Hats off. Gentlemen "t 
 Is it to me ? I fwear, it muft not be ; 
 
 Nay, 
 
A Kt7tg^ and No King. 275 
 
 Nay, truft me ; in good Faith, it muft not be ; 
 I cannot now command you, but I pray you 
 For the Refpedl you bare me, when you took 
 Me for your King, each Man clap on his Hat 
 At my Defirc. 
 
 Mar. We will. But you're not found 
 So mean a Man, but that you may be cover'd 
 As well as we, may you not ? Arh, O, not here ; 
 You may, but not I, for here is my Father 
 In Prefence. Mar. Where ? 
 
 Arb. Why, there : O the whole Story 
 Would be a Wildcrnefs to lofe thyfelf 
 For ever : O pardon me, my dearcft Father, 
 For all the idle and unreverend Words 
 That I have Ipoke in idle Moods to you : 
 I am Arbaces, we all Fellow-Subjc6ts, 
 Nor is the Queen Panthea now my Sifter. 
 
 Bef. Why, if you remember, Fellow-fubjed Arbaces., I 
 told you once fhe was not your Sifter : Ay, and ftie look'd 
 nothing like you. 
 
 Arb. I think you did, good Captain Bej^us, 
 
 Bef. Here will arife another Qjeftion now amongft 
 the Sword-men, whether I be to call him to Account for 
 beating me, now he is proved no King. 
 
 Enter Lygones. 
 
 Mar. Sir, here's Lygones, the Agent for the Armenian 
 State. 
 
 Arb. Where is he ? I know your Bufinefs, good 
 Lygones. 
 
 Lyg. We muft have our King again, and will. 
 
 Arb. I knew, that was your Bufinefs : You ftiall have 
 Your King again, and have him ' fo again 
 As never King was had. Go one of you 
 And bid Bacurius bring Tigranes hither ; 
 And bring the Lady with him, that Panthea, 
 The Queen Panthea, fcnt me Word this Morning, 
 Was brave Tigranes'' Miftrefs. [Exeunt two Gentlemen . 
 
 Lyg. 'Tis Spaconia. 
 
 Arb. Ay, Ay, Spaconia. Lyg. She is my Daughter. 
 
 T 2 Arb, 
 
276 A King^ and No King, 
 
 Arh. She is fo : 1 could now tell any thing 
 I never heard : Your King (hall go fo home, 
 As never Man went. Mar. Shall he go on's Head? 
 
 Arh. He fhall have Chariots eafier than Air, 
 That I will have invented \ and ne'er think. 
 He fhall pay any Ranfom, and thyfelf. 
 That art the MefTenger, fliall ride before him 
 On a Horfe cut out of an entire Diamond, 
 That fhall be made to go with golden Wheels, 
 I know not how yet Lyg. Why I lliall be made 
 For ever ! They bely'd this King with us, 
 And faid he was unkind. Arh. And then thy Daughter, 
 She fhall have fome flrange Thing; we'll have the King- 
 Sold utterly, and put into a Toy [dom 
 Which fhe fhall wear about her carelefly 
 Some where or other. See, the virtuous Queen ; 
 Behold the humbleft Subject, that you have, 
 Kneel here before you. 
 
 Enter Panthea and i Gentleman. 
 
 Van. Why kneel you to me. 
 That am your VafTal } Arh. Grant me one Requefl. 
 
 Fan. Alas ! what can I grant you ? W1iat I can, 
 I will. Arh. That you will pleafe to marry me, 
 If I can prove it lawful. Pan. Is that all '^. 
 More willingly than I would draw this Air. 
 
 Arh. I'll kifs this Hand in Earnelt. 
 
 2 Gent. Sir, 'Tigranes 
 Is coming, though he made it flrange at lirfl. 
 To fee the Princefs any more. 
 
 Enter Tigranes and Spaconia. 
 
 Arh., The Queen, 
 Thou mean'fl. O my T'igranes, pardon me. 
 Tread on my Neck, I freely offer it ; 
 And if thou be'fl fo given, take Revenge, 
 For I have injur'd thee, — -^ ^'igr. No, I forgive. 
 And rejoice more that you have found Repentance, 
 Than I my Liberty. Arh. May'fl thou be happy 
 In thy fair Choice, for thou art temperate ! 
 
 You 
 
A Kmg^ and No King. 277 
 
 You owe no Ranfom to the State ; know, that 
 
 I have a thouland Joys to tell you of, 
 
 Which yet I dare not utter, till I pay 
 
 My Thanks to Ileav'n for 'em : Will you go 
 
 With me and help me ? Pray you, do. Tigr. I will. 
 
 Arb. Take then your Fair One with you, and you Queen 
 Of Goodnefs and of us, O give me Leave 
 I'o take your Arm in mine : Come every one 
 That takes Delight in Goodnefs, help to fing 
 Loud Thanks for me, that I am prov'd no King. 
 
 [^Exeuni omnes. 
 

 ^i 
 
 THE 
 
 ScoRNFULL Lady. 
 
 COMEDY. 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS, 
 
 MEN. 
 
 Elder Lovelefs, a Suitor to the Lady. 
 
 Young Lovelefs, a Prodigal. 
 
 SaviJ, Steward to Elder Lovelefs. 
 
 Welford, a Suitor to the Lady, 
 
 Sir Roger, Curate to the Lady. 
 
 A Captain^ 
 
 A 'Traveller^ 
 . p * Hangers-on to Toung Lovelefs. 
 
 A Tohacco-man, , 
 Morecraft, an Ufurer. 
 
 WOMEN. 
 
 Lady, t 
 
 and > ^wo Sifters. 
 Martha, 3 
 
 Younglove, or Abigail, a waiting Gentlewoman. 
 
 A rich Widow. 
 
 fVencheSj Fidlers., ■ and Attendants. 
 SCENE, LONDON. 
 
 THE 
 
THE 
 
 ScoRNFULL Lady. 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 Efiter Elder Lovele fs, Toung Lovelefs, Savil the 
 Steward^ and a Page. 
 
 Elder Loveless. 
 
 Rother, is your laft Hope pafl, to mollify 
 ^^ MGrecraft\ Heart about your Mortgage ? 
 
 To. Love. Hopelefly pafl. I have prelented 
 the Ufurer with a richer Draught than ever 
 Cleopatra fwallow'd ; he hatli fuck'd in ten 
 thoufand Pounds Worth of my Land, more than he paid 
 for, (i) at a Gulp, without Trumpets. 
 
 El. Love. I have as hard a Task to perform in this 
 Houfe. 
 
 T'o. Love. Faith, mine was to make an Ufurer honelt, 
 or to lofe my Land. 
 
 (i ) at a Gulp, ivithout Trumpets.'] The AUufion is here either to 
 the Drinking of Healths at our publick Halls and City Entertain- 
 ments; or elie to a Paffage in (^t Acharnenfes of Aristophanes, 
 upon which the old Scholiajl informs us, that it was a Cultom in 
 yJthens, at certain of their f ealb, to challenge one another to drink 
 by Sound of Trumpet. 
 
 El. Love, 
 
282 7he Scornfull Lady, 
 
 El. Love. And mine is to perfuadc a pafTionate Woman, 
 or to leave the Land. Make the Boat flay ; I fear, I fhall 
 begin my unfortunate Journey this Night; though the 
 Darkncfs of the Night, and the Roughnefs of the Waters, 
 might eafily diffuade an unwilling Man. 
 
 Savil. Sir, your Father's old Friends hold it the founder 
 Courfe for your Body and Eftate to flay at home and 
 marry, and propagate, and govern in your Country, than 
 to travel and die without IfTue. 
 
 El. Love. Savil, you fliall gain tlie Opinion of a better 
 Servant, in feeking to execute, not alter, my Will, howfo- 
 ever my Intents fucceed. 
 
 To. Love. Yonder's Millrefs Tounglove, Brother, the 
 grave Rubber of your Miflrefs's Toes. 
 
 Enter Younglove, or Abigail. 
 
 El. Love. Mrs. Tounglove ■ 
 
 Abig. M after Lovelefs, truly, we thouglit your Sails 
 had been hoifl : my Miftrefs is perfuaded you are Sea-fick 
 e'er this. 
 
 El. Love. 'Loves fhe her ill-taken-up Refolution fo dear- 
 ly? Didft thou move her from me? 
 
 Jbig. By this Light that fhines, there's no removing 
 her, if fhe get a ftiff Opinion by the End. I attempted 
 her to Day, when they lay a Woman can deny nothing. 
 
 El. Love. What critical Minute was that ? 
 
 Abig. V/hen her Smock was over her Ears; but fhe 
 was no more pliant, than if it hung about her Heels. 
 
 El. Love. I prithee, deliver my Service, and fay, I defire 
 to fee the dear Caufe of my Banifhment ; and then ft» 
 France. 
 
 Ah'ig. I'll do't ; hark hither, is that your Brother ? 
 
 El. Love. Yes, have you loft your Memory ? 
 
 Ahig. As I live, he's a pretty Fellow. \Exit. 
 
 (2) Yo. Love. O, this is a fweet Brache! 
 
 El. Love. Why, flie knows not you. 
 
 To. Love. No, but fhe ofFer'd me once- to know her. 
 
 (2) O, this is a f-weet Brache.'] A fort of Hound, or any little 
 (linking, houfchold Cur. 
 
 To 
 
^he Scornfull Lady. 283 
 
 To this Day fhe loves Youth of Eighteen ; ilie heard a 
 Tale how Ctipid ftruck her in Love with a great Lord in 
 the Tilt-yard, but he never faw her -, yet flie in Kind- 
 nefs would needs wear a Willow-Garland at his Wed- 
 ding. She lov'd all the Players in the laft Queen's Time 
 once over : fhe was ftruck when they ad:ed Lovers, and 
 forfook fome when they play'd Murtherers. (3) She has 
 nine Spur-ryals^ and the Servants fay, fhe hoards old 
 Gold ; and (he herfelf pronounces angerly, that the 
 Farmer's eldeft Son, (or her Miftrefs's Husband's Clerk 
 fhall be,) that marries her, fliall make her a Jointure of 
 Fourfcore Pounds a Year ; llie tells Tales of the Serving- 
 men. 
 
 El. Love. Enough, I know her. Brother, I fhall in- 
 treat you only to falute my Miftrefs and take Leave, we*ll 
 part at the Stairs. 
 
 Enter Lady and Waiting-'women. 
 
 Lady. Now, Sir, this firft Part of your Will is per- 
 form'd : What's the reft ? 
 
 El. Love. Firft, let me beg your Notice for this Gen- 
 tleman my Brother. 
 
 Lady. I fhall take it as a Favour done to me. Though 
 the Gendeman hath received but an untimely Grace from 
 you, yet my charitable Difpofition wou'd have been rea- 
 dy to have done him freer Courtefies as a Stranger, than 
 upon thofe cold Commendations. 
 
 To. Love. Lady, my Salutations crave Acquaintance and 
 Leave at once. 
 
 Lady. Sir, I hope, you are the Mafter of your own 
 Occafion. \_Exit Yo. Love, and Savil. 
 
 El. Love. 'Would, I were fo ! Miftrefs, for me topraife 
 over again that Worth, which all the World, and you 
 yourfelf can fee. 
 
 Lady. It's a cold Room this, Servant. 
 
 El. Love. Miftrefs 
 
 Lady. What think you, if I have a Chimney for*t, out 
 here ^ 
 
 (3) She has nine Spur-ryals,] This was a Piece of Gold Coin vay 
 current in the Reign of King James J. 
 
 El. Love, 
 
284 7^^ Scor?ifull Lady. 
 
 El. Love. Miftrefs, another in my Place, that were not 
 ty'd to believe all your Actions juft, would apprehend 
 himfelf wrong'd : But I, whofe Virtues are Conftancy 
 and Obedience, ■ 
 
 hady. Tounglove^ make a good Fire above to warm me 
 after my Ser\''ant's Exordiums. 
 
 El. Love. I have heard and feen your Affability to be 
 fuch, that the Servants you give Wages to may Ipeak. 
 
 Lady. 'Tis true, 'tis true ; but they fpeak to th* Pur- 
 pofe. 
 
 El Lcve. Miftrefs, your Will leads my Speeches from 
 the Purpofe. But, as a Man 
 
 Lndy. A Similie, Servant ? This Room was built for 
 honeft Meaners, that deliver themfelves haftily and plain- 
 ly, and are gone. Is this a Time or Place for Exordiums^ 
 and Similies and Metaphors ? If you have aught to fay, 
 break into't: my Anfwers fnall very reafonably meet 
 you. 
 
 El. Love. Miftrels, I came to fee you. 
 
 Lady. That's happily difpatch*d ; the next — 
 
 El Love. To take Leave of you. 
 
 Lady. To be gone ? 
 
 El. Love. Yes. 
 
 Lady. You need not have dcfpair'd of that, nor have 
 us'd fo many Circumftances to win me to give you Leave 
 to perform my Command ; Is there a third .'' 
 
 El Love. Yes ; I had a third, had you been apt to 
 hear it. 
 
 Lady. I .'' never apter. Faft (good Servant) fdl. 
 
 El. I^ove. 'Twas to intreat you to hear Reafon. 
 
 Lady. Moft willingly, have you brought one can 
 fpeak it .'' 
 
 El Love. Laftly, it is to kindle in that barren Heart 
 Love and Forgivenefs. 
 
 Lady. You wou'd ftay at Home ^ 
 
 El. Love. Yes, Lady. 
 
 Lady. Why, you may, and doubtlefly will, when you 
 have debated that your Commander is but your Miftrefs, 
 a Woman, a weak one, wildly overborn with Paffions : 
 but the Thing, by her commanded, is, to keDover^s dread- 
 
 fuU 
 
l*he Scornful! Lady* 285 
 
 full Cliif, pafllng in a poor Watcr-hoiife ; the Dangers of 
 the mercilefs Channel 'twixt that and Calais^ (4) five long 
 Hours Sail, with three poor Weeks' Viduals. 
 El. Lcve. You wrong me. 
 
 Lady. I'hen to land dumb, unable to enquire for an 
 Engl'Jh Hoft, to remove from City to City, by moft 
 chargeable Pofl-horfe, like one that rode iii Quell of his 
 Mother Tongue. 
 
 El. Love. You wrong me much. 
 Lady. And all thefe (almofl invincible Labours) per- 
 form'd for ycur Miftrefs, to be in danger to forfake her, 
 and to put on new Allegiance to fome French Lady, who 
 is content to change Language with your Laughter, and, 
 after your whole Year fpent in Tennis and broken Speech, 
 to (land to the Hazard of being laugh'd at, at your Re- 
 turn, and hare Tales made on you by the Chamber- 
 m.aids. 
 
 El. Love. You wrong me much: 
 Lady. Louder yet. 
 
 El. Love. You know, your leall Word is of Force to 
 make me feek out Dangers ; move me not with Toys : 
 But in this Banilliment, I mull take Leave to fay, you are 
 unjufl : Was one Kifs forc'd from you in Publick by me fo 
 unpardonable ? Why, all the Hours of Day and Night 
 have feen us kifs. 
 
 Lady. 'Tis true, and fo you told the Company that 
 heard me chide. 
 
 El. Love. Your own Eyes were not dearer to you than I, 
 Lady. And fo you told 'em. 
 
 El. Love. I did, yet no Sign of Difgrace need to have 
 ftain'd your Cheek : You yourfelf knew your pure and 
 fimple Ileart to be moft unfpotted, and free from the 
 leafl Bafenefs. 
 
 Lady. I did : But if a Maid's Heart doth but once think 
 that Ihe is fulpected, her own Face will write her guilty. 
 
 (4) Five long Hoioi Sail, fwith three poor WeelCs ViEluals!\ This 
 Speech is all through S;ucaftical. She is bantering her Gallant on the 
 fuppoled Danger ot his Voyage; and the great Care he is taking of 
 lumfeir, in laying in three Weeks Provifxons only to crofs from Dover 
 to Calais, 
 
 El, Love, 
 
2 86 The ScornfuU Lady, 
 
 El. Love. But where lay this Difgrace? The World, 
 that knew us, knew our Refolutions well : And could it 
 be hop'd, that I fhould give away my Freedom ; and 
 venture a perpetual Bondage with one I never kift ? or 
 could I in ftrift Wifdom take too much Love upon me, 
 from her that chofe me for her Husband ? 
 
 Lady, Believe me -, if my Wedding-fmock were on, 
 "Were the Gloves bought and giv'n, the Licence come. 
 Were the Rofemary-branches dip'd, and all 
 (5) The Hippocras and Cakes eat and drunk off, 
 Were thefe two Arms incompafs'd with the Hands 
 Of Batchelors to lead me to the Church, 
 Were my Feet in the Door, (6) were, — / John — faid. 
 If John Iliou'd boaft a Favour done by me, 
 I wou'd not wed that Year: And you, I hope. 
 When you have fpent this Year commodioufly. 
 In atchieving Languages, will at your Return 
 Acknowledge me more coy of parting with mine Eyes, 
 Than fuch a Friend. More Talk I hold not now. 
 If you dare go. 
 
 El. Love. I dare, you Icnow. Firft, let me kifs. 
 
 Lady. Farewel, fweet Servant, and your Task per- 
 On a new Ground, as a beginning Suitor, [form'd, 
 
 I fhall be apt to hear you. 
 
 El. Love. Farewel, cruel Miftrefs. \^Exit Lady. 
 
 E7iter Toung Lovelefs, and Savil. 
 
 To. Love. Brother, you'll hazard the lofing your Tide 
 to Grave/end: you have a long Half-mile by Land to 
 Greenwich. 
 
 El. Love. I go : But, Brother, what yet unheard-of 
 Courfe to live doth your Imagination flatter you with? 
 Your ordinary Means are devour'd. 
 
 (5) Hippocras^ This v/as a Wine fpiced and ftrain'd thro' a Flan- 
 nel Bag, formerly in much Requeft: at Weddings,- Wakes, ^c. The 
 Strainer, we are told, was call'd Hippocrates^ Sleeve. I know, there 
 is a Woollen Bag. To call'd, ufed by the Apothecaries to llrain Syrups 
 and Decodions for Clarification. 
 
 (6) Were, /John /aid,'] i.e. Tho' the Ceremony of 
 
 Marriage were begun ; and we were come to. the Words, 7 John take 
 thee Mary, i^c. 
 
 To. Love, 
 
Tloe Sconi^ull Lady, 287 
 
 Yq. Lore. Courfc? why Horfe-courfing, I think. Con- 
 fume no I'ime in tliis ; I have no Eftate to be mended 
 by Meditation : He, that bufics himfelf about my For- 
 tunes, may properly be faid to buly himfelf about no- 
 thing ■. 
 
 El. Love. Yet fome Courfe you mufl take, which for my 
 Satisfaction refolve and open ; if you will fhape none, I 
 mull inform you that that Man but perfuadcs himfelf he 
 means to Jive, that imagines not the Means. 
 
 To. Love. Why, live upon otiiers, as others have liv'd 
 upon m.e. 
 
 El. Love. I apprehend not that : You have fed others, 
 and confequently dilpos'd of 'em : And the fame Meafure 
 muft you expedl from your Maintainers, which will be 
 too heavy an Alteration for you to bear. 
 
 (7) T'o. Love. Why, I'll purfe; if that raife me not, 
 rU bett at Bowling-AUeys, or man Whores -, I would fain 
 live by others : But I'll live whilft I am unhang'd, and 
 after the Thought's taken, <■ 
 
 El. Love. I fee, you are ty'd to no particular Imploy- 
 ment then? 
 
 To. Love. Faith, I may chufe my Courfe : They fay. 
 Nature brings forth none but Ihe provides for them: I'll 
 try her Liberality. 
 
 El. Love. Well, to keep your Feet out of bafe and dan- 
 gerous Paths, I have refolv'd you fhall live as Mafter of 
 my Houfe. It fhall be your Care, Savil., to fee him fed and 
 cloath'd, not according to his prefent Eftate, but to his 
 Birth and former Fortunes. 
 
 To. Love. If it be refer'd to him, if I be not found in 
 Carnation J^r/^-Stockings, blue Devils' Breeches, with 
 the Cards down, and my Pocket i'th' Sleeves, 1*11 ne'er 
 look you i'th' Face again. 
 
 Sav. A comelier Wear, I wufs, it is than thofe dangling 
 Slops. 
 
 EL Love. To keep you ready to do him all Semce peace- 
 
 (7) Why, r/Zparfe; if that ralfe me not, I'll bett at Bovjling- 
 Alkss. or man Whores {\ i. e. I'll take a Purfe upon the Road, or 
 turn Bully and Stallion to a Bawdy-houfe. 
 
 ably. 
 
2 88 TIdb Scornfull Lady. 
 
 ably, and him to command you reafonably, I leave thcfe 
 flirdier Diredlions in Writing j which, at your bell I.ei- 
 fure, together open and read. 
 
 Enter Abigail to them, mth a Jewel. 
 
 Jilig. Sir, my Miilrefs commends her Love to you in 
 this Token, and thefe W ords ; it is a Jewel (fhe fays) which 
 as a Favour from her flie would requeft you to wear 'till 
 your Year's Travel be perform'd : Which once expir'd, 
 flie will happily exped your happy Return. 
 
 El. Loie, Return my Sen/ice with fuch Thanks, as fhe 
 may imagine the Heart of a fuddenly over-joy 'd Man 
 would willingly utter ; and you, I hope, I iliall with 
 (lender Arguments peifuade to wear this Diamond ; that 
 when my Miftrefs fhall, through my long Abfence, and the 
 Approach of new Suitors, offer to forget me ; you may 
 caft your Eye down to your Finger, and remember and 
 fpcak of me : She will hear thee better than thofe allied by 
 Birth to her J as we fee many Men much fway'd by the 
 Grooms of their Chambers, not that they have a greater 
 Part of their Love or Opinion on them, than on others, 
 but for that they know their Secrets. 
 
 Jbig. O' my Credit, I fwear, I think 'twas made for 
 me : Fear no other Suitors. 
 
 El. Love. I fhall not need to teach you how to difcredit 
 their Beginning •, you know how to take Exception at their 
 Shirts at Wafliing •, or to make the Maids fwear, they 
 found Plaifters in their Beds. 
 
 Jbig. I Icnow, I know, and do not you fear the Sui- 
 tors. 
 
 El. Love. Farewel, be mindful, and be happy ; the 
 Night calls me. [^Exeunt omnes -prater Abig. 
 
 Mig. The Gods of the Winds befriend you, Sir ! a 
 conftant and hberal Lover diou art, more fuch God 
 fend us ! 
 
 Enter Welford. 
 
 Wei. Let 'em not (land flill, we have rid. 
 Abig. A Suitor, I know, by his riding hard ; I'll not 
 be fccn. 
 
 Wei 
 
The Scornful! Lady, 289 
 
 JVel. A pretty Hall this, no Servant in't? I wou*d look 
 frefhly. 
 
 Abig. You have deliver*d your Errand to me then : 
 there's nc Danger in a handibme young Fellow: I'll fliew 
 myfelf. 
 
 PFel. Lady, may it pleafc you to beftow upon a Stran- 
 ger the ordinary Grace of Salutation ? Are you the Lady 
 of this Houfe ? 
 
 ylbig. Sir, I am wortliily proud to be a Servant of 
 hers. 
 
 IVel. Lady, I fliould be as proud to be a Servant of 
 yours, did not my fo late Acquaintance make me defpair; 
 
 Abig. Sir, it is not fo hard to atchieve, but Nature may 
 bring it about. 
 
 JVel. For thefe co^nfortable Words, I remain your glad 
 Debtor. Is your Lady at home ^ 
 
 Abig. She is no Straggler, Sir, 
 
 Wcl. May her Occafions admit me to Ipeak with her .^ 
 
 Abig. If you come in the way of a Suitor, No. 
 
 Wei. I know your affable Virtue will be mov*d to per- 
 fuade her, that a Gentleman, benighted and ftray'd, of- 
 fers to be bound to her for a Night's Lodging. 
 
 Abig. I will commend this Mefiage to her ; but if you 
 aim at her Body, you will be deluded : (8) There are 
 other Women of the Houfehold of as good Carriage and 
 Govemment •, upon any of which if you can call your 
 Affcftion, they will perhaps be found as faithful and not 
 fo coy. \_Exit Abig. 
 
 Wei. What a Skin-flill of Luft is this .? I thought, I 
 had come a Wooing, and I am the courted Party. This 
 is right Court-fafhion : Men, Women, and all woo-. Catch, 
 that catch may. If this foft-hearted Woman have infus'd 
 any of her Tendernefs into her Lady, there is Hope, Ihe 
 will be plyant. But who's here ? 
 
 {%) Other Women of the Houfehold of as good Carriage and Go- 
 tvirnment \\ 'vVithout the fnfeiti:n of the i'relirair.uiy Wordf, There 
 are, the Senfe is quite imperfect. Mr. Sympfon. 
 
 Vol. J. U Enter 
 
290 iTje Scorn full Lady, 
 
 Enter Sir Roger, the Curate. 
 
 Rog. God fave you, Sir ! My Lady lets you know, fhc 
 defires to be acquainted with your Name, before fhe con- 
 fer with you ? 
 
 fVel. Sir, my Name calls me IVelford. 
 
 Rog. Sir, you are a Gentleman of a good Name. I'll 
 try his Wit. 
 
 fVel. I will uphold it as good as any of my Anceftors 
 had this two Hundred Years, Sir. 
 
 Reg. I knew a worfhipful and a religious Gentleman 
 of your Name in the Bifhoprick of Durham. Call you 
 him Coufin ? 
 
 Wei. I am only allied to his Virtues, Sir. 
 
 Rog. It is modellly faid : I ftiould carry the Badge of 
 your Chriilianity with me too. 
 
 IFel. What's' that, a Crofs.? there's a Teller. 
 
 Reg. I mean, the Name which your God-fathers and 
 God-mothers gave you at the Font. 
 
 PFel. 'Tis Harry : But you cannot proceed orderly now 
 in your Catechifm ; for you have told me who gave me 
 that Name. Shall I beg your Name ? 
 
 Rog. Roger. 
 
 Wei. What Room fill you in this Houfe .? 
 
 Rog. More Rooms than one. 
 
 Wei. The more the merrier : But may my Boldnefs 
 know, why your Lady hath fent you to decypher my 
 Name ,'' 
 
 Rog. Her own Words were thefe : To know, whether 
 you were a formerly deny'd Suitor, difguis'd in this Mef- 
 fage : For, I can aiTure you, (9) Ihe delights not in Tha- 
 lamo : Hymen and fhe are at Variance, 1 fliall return with 
 much hade. \_Exit Roger. 
 
 Wei. And much Speed, Sir, I hope : Certainly, I am 
 arrived amongft a Nation of new-found Fools, on a Land 
 where no Navigator has yet planted Wit ; If I had fore- 
 
 (9) She delights not in Thalame :] It mufl: be, as I had long ago 
 obferv'd, and as Mr. Sympfon likewife hinted to me, in Thalamo: 
 She has no Tafte for Wedlock, for the A^arriage-bed. 
 
The ScornfuU Lady* 2gi 
 
 feen it, I would have Jaded my Breeches with BelJs, 
 Knives, Copper, and Glafles, to trade with Women for 
 their Virginities •, yet, I fear, I fhould have betray'd my 
 felf to a needlefs Charge then. Here comes the walking 
 Night-cap again. 
 
 Enier Roger. 
 
 Rog. Sir, my Lady's Pleafure is to fee you ; who hath 
 commanded me to acknowledge her Sorrow, that you 
 muft take the Pains to come up for fo bad Entertain- 
 ment. 
 
 fi^el. I fhall obey your Lady, that fent it, and acknow- 
 ledge you that brought it, to be your Arts Maftcr. 
 
 Rog. I am but a Bachelor of Art, Sir ; and I have 
 the mending of all under this Roof, from my Lady on 
 her Down-bed, to the Maid in the Peafe-ftraw. 
 
 /VeL A Cobler, Sir ? 
 
 (ro) Rog. No, Sir, I inculcate divine Homilies within 
 thefe Walls. 
 
 fVel But the Inhabitants of this Houfe do often em- 
 ploy you on Errands without any Scruple of Confcience. 
 
 Rog. Yes, I do take the Air many Mornings on Foot 
 three or four Miles, for Eggs: But why move you 
 that? 
 
 ff^el. To know whether it might become your Fundl- 
 on to bid my Man to ncgledl his Horfe a little to attend 
 on me. 
 
 Rog. Moil properly, Sir. 
 
 fVel. I pray you, do fo then : The whilft I will attend 
 your Lady. You direft all this Houfe in the true Way ? 
 
 Rog. I do. Sir. 
 
 fVel. And this Door, I hope, condufts to your Lady ? 
 
 (lo) A'o, S:r, I inculcate di-vine Service 'wilbin thefe Walls. ~\ Se- 
 veral of the old ^arto's have it, Hcmilies; Either VVord is equally 
 to the I'urpofe, but the latter being the flifFer and more precife Term, 
 feems moft fuitable to Sir Roger^s formal Charaftcr. So Abigail, at 
 the beginning of the fourth Aft, fpeaking of him, fays; 
 
 To this good Homilift I''ve been e'ver fiubbom ; 
 Sir Roger is a very good Pifture of a dull, pedantick Country-Chap- 
 Iain, of thofe Time?, in a private Family. 
 
 U 2 Roi, 
 
292 l^he S CO J" n full Lady, 
 
 Rog. Your Underflanding is ingenious. 
 
 \Exeunt fever ally. 
 
 Enter Young Lovelefs and Savil, ijoith a Writing. 
 
 Sav. By your Favour, Sir, you fhall pardon me. 
 
 To. Love. ( 1 1 ) I fhall beat your Favour, Sir ; — Crols 
 me no more ; I fay, they fhall come in, 
 
 Sav. Sir, ycu forget who I am ? 
 
 To. Love. Sir, I do not ; thou art my Brother's 
 Steward, his call-off Mill- money, his Kitchen Arithme- 
 tick. 
 
 Sav. Sir, I hope, you will not make fo little of me ? 
 
 To. Love. I make thee not fo little as thou art ; for, 
 indeed, there goes no more to the making of a Steward, 
 but a fair Imprimis, and then a reafonable Item infus'd 
 into him, and the Thing is done. 
 
 Sav. Nay, then, you llir my Duty, and I muft tell 
 you 
 
 To. Love. What wouldfl thou tell me, how Hops 
 grow, or hold Ibme rotten Difcourfe of Sheep, or when 
 our Lady-day falls .'' Prithee, farewel, and entertain my 
 Friends, be drunk and bum thy Table-books; and my 
 dear Spark of Velvet, thou and I. 
 
 Sav. Good Sir, remember. 
 
 To. Love. I do remember thee a foolilh Fellow, one 
 that did put his truft in Almanacks, and Horfe-fairs, 
 and rofe by Honey, and Pot-butter. Shall they come in 
 yet ^ 
 
 Sav. Nay, then I muft unfold your Brother's Pleafure; 
 thefe be the Leflbns, Sir, he left behind him. 
 
 To. Love. Prithee, expound the firft. 
 
 Sav. J leave to maintain my Houfe three Hundred Pounds 
 a Tear \ and my Brother to difpofe of it. 
 
 To. Love. Mark that, my wicked Steward ; and I dif- 
 pofe of it — 
 
 Sav. Whilji he bears himfelf like a Gentleman., and my 
 
 (11) 1 Jhall bear your Favour, Sir, crofs me no more."] There is 
 neither Senfe nor Humour, in young Lovelefi'i Reply, as it ftands in 
 all the Copies. My Corredtion retrieves both : /. e. If you continue 
 to crofs me, I fhall correft you for your Stubbornnofs. 
 
 Credit 
 
The Scornfull Lady, 293 
 
 Creiit falls not in him. Mark That, my good young Sir, 
 mark That. 
 
 To. Love. Nay, if it be no more, I fhall fulfill it ; while 
 my Legs will carry me I'll bear myfelf Gentleman-like,, 
 but when I am drunk, let them bear me that can. For- 
 ward, dear Stewai'd. 
 
 Sav, Next it is my Will^ that he he furnijh^d (as my 
 Brother) with Attendance^ Apparel, and the Obedience of 
 my People. 
 
 T'o. Love. Steward, this is as plain as your old Minikin- 
 breeches. Your Wifdom will relent now, will it not.'' Be 
 mollified, or you under Hand me, Sir ; proceed. 
 
 Sav. Next., that my Steward keep his Place, and Power, 
 and bound my Brother'' s Wildnefs with his Care. 
 
 To. Love. I'll hear no more of this Apocrypha, bind it 
 by itfelf, Steward. 
 
 Sav. This is your Brother's Will, and, as I take it, he 
 makes no mention of fuch Company as you would draw 
 unto you. Captains of Gallyfoifts, fuch as in a clear 
 Day have feen Calais, Fellows that have no more of God, 
 than their Oaths come to -, they wear Swords to reach 
 Fire at a Play, and get there the oil'd End of a Pipe, 
 for their Guerdon : Then the Remnant of your Regi- 
 ment are wealthy Tobacco-Merchants, that fet up with 
 one Ounce, and break for three ; together with a Forlorn 
 Hope of Poets, and all thefe look like Carthufians, Things 
 withous Linnen : Are thefe fit Company for my Mafter'fi 
 Brother .'' 
 
 To. Love. I will either convert thee (O thou Pagan 
 Steward) or prefently confound thee and thy Reckonings ; 
 Who's there } Call in the Gentlemen. 
 
 Sav. Good Sir— — — 
 
 To. Love. Nay, you fhall know both who I am, and 
 where I am. 
 
 Sav. Are you my Mailer's Brother ? 
 
 To. Love. Are you the fage Mafler Steward, with a 
 Face like an old Ephemeris ? 
 
 U 3 Enter 
 
294 ^^^ Scornfull hady. 
 
 Enter his Comrades^ Captain, Traveller, Poet, iSc. 
 
 (12) Sav. Then God help all, I fay! 
 
 To. Love. Ay, and 'tis well faid, my old Peer of 
 France: Welcome, Gentlemen, welcome. Gentlemen-, mine 
 own dear Lads, you're richly welcome. Know this old 
 Harry Groat. 
 
 Capt. Sir, I will take your Love. 
 
 Sav. Sir, will you talce my Purfe. 
 
 Capt. And fludy to continue it. 
 
 Sav. I do believe you. 
 
 "Trav. Your honourable Friend and Mafter's Brother, 
 Hath given you to us for a worthy Fellow, 
 And lb we hug you. Sir. 
 
 Sav. H'as given himfelf into the Hands of Varlets, 
 Not to be carv'd out. Sir, are thefe the Pieces ? 
 
 To. Love. They are the Morals of the Age, the Vir- 
 Men made of Gold. [tues, 
 
 Sav. Of your Gold, you mean. Sir. 
 
 T'o. Love. This is a Man of War, and cries, go oriy 
 And wears his Colours, Sav. In's Noie.— • 
 
 To. Love. In the fragrant Field, 
 This \z a Traveller, Sir, knows Men and Manners, 
 And has plow'd up the Sea fo far, 'till both 
 The Poles have knock'd •, has feen the Sun take Coach, 
 And can diftinguifh the Colour of his Horles, 
 Their Kinds, and had a Flanders-yi^vQ leap'd there. 
 
 Sav. 'Tis much. 
 
 Trav. I have feen more. Sir. 
 
 Sav. 'Tis even enough o' Confcience ; fit down, and 
 reft you, you are at the End of the World already. 
 *Wou'd, you had as good a Living, Sir, as this Fellow 
 cou'd lye you out of, he has a notable Gift in't ! 
 
 (12) Sav. 7hen God help all, I /ay ! ] Sa'vil has been cfteetn'd, by 
 all good Judges of Comedy, an excellent Charatler of a precife, dog- 
 matical, felf-conceited Steward: Always pretending to obtrude his 
 Advice, and as defirous of controiding with his Opifiion"!. The in- 
 genious Mr. Addison, I remember, told me, that he sketch'd out 
 his Charader of Vellum in the Comedy call'd the Drummer, purely 
 from this Model. 
 
 To, Love. 
 
7Z^ Scornfull Lady, 2Qc; 
 
 Yo. Love. This minifters the Smoak, and tliis the 
 Miiles. 
 
 Sav. And you the Cloaths, and Meat, and Money, 
 you have a goodly Generation of 'em ; pray, let them 
 multiply-, your Brother's Houfe is big enough, and, to 
 fay Truth, h'as too much Land, hang it, Dirt. 
 
 I'd. Love. Why, now thou art a loving Stinkard. Fire 
 off thy Annotations and thy Rent-books, thou hall a 
 weak Brain, Savil, and with the next long Bill thou wilt 
 run mad. Gentlemen, you are once more welcome to 
 three Hundred Pounds o'Year; we will be freely merry, 
 Ihall we not ^. 
 
 Capt. Merry, as Mirth and Wine, my lovely Lovekfs. ■ 
 
 Poet. A ferious Look fhall be a Jury to excommuni- 
 cate any Man from our Company. 
 
 Trav. We will not talk wifely neither .'* 
 
 To. Love. What think you. Gentlemen, by all this Re- 
 venue in Drink ^ 
 
 Capt. I am all for Drink. 
 
 Trav. I am dry, 'till it be fo. 
 
 Poet. He that will not cry Amen to 'this, let him live 
 fober, feem wife, and die o' th' Coram. 
 
 To. Love. It lliall be fo, we'll have it all in Drink; let 
 Meat and Lodging go, they are tranfitory, and fhew 
 Men meerly mortal : Then we'll have Wenches, every 
 one his Wench, and every Week a frcfh one ; we'll keep 
 no powder'd Flefh. All thefe we have by Warrant un- 
 der the Title of Things neceflary. Here upon this Place 
 I ground it, the Obedience of my People, and all Necef- 
 faries : Your Opinions, Gentlemen ? 
 
 Capt. 'Tis plain, and evident, that he meant Wenches. 
 
 Sav. Good Sir, let me expound it. 
 
 Capt. Here be as found Men, as yourfelf, Sir. 
 
 Poet. This do I hold to be the Interpretation of it ; 
 In this Word, Necejfary., is concluded all that be Helps to 
 Man -, Woman was made the firft, and therefore here the 
 Chiefeft. 
 
 To. Love. Believe me, *tis a learned one ; and by thefe 
 Words, The Obedience of my People, you Steward, being 
 one, are bound to fetch us Wenches. 
 
 U 4 Capt. 
 
29^ 5^^ Scornfull Lady, 
 
 Capt. He is, he is. 
 
 To. Love. Steward, attend us for Inllrudions. 
 
 Sav. But will you keep no Houfe, Sir ? 
 
 2'o. Love. >Jothing but Drink, Sir, three Hundred 
 Pounds in Drink. 
 
 Sav. O miferable Houfe, and miferable I that I live 
 to fee it ! Good Sir, keep fome Meat. 
 
 To. Love. Get us good Whores, and for your part, I'll 
 board you in an Ale-houfe, you fhaU have Cheefe and 
 Onions 
 
 Sav. What fhall become of me ? no Chimney fmoaking? 
 W^ell, Prodigal, your Brother will come home. [^Exit. 
 
 To. Love. Come Lads, I'll warrant you for Wenches. 
 Three Hundred Pounds in Drink. 
 
 Omnes. O brave Lovelefs ! [Exeunt. 
 
 A C T II. S C E N E I. 
 
 Enter Lady, Welford, and Sir Roger. 
 
 Lady. C I R, now you fee your bad Lodging, I muft 
 ^ bid you good Night. 
 
 Wei. Lady, if there be any Want, 'tis in Want of 
 you. 
 
 Lady. A little Sleep will eafe that Compliment. Once 
 more, good Night. 
 
 Wei. Once more, dear Lady, and then all fweet Nights. 
 
 Lady. Dear Sir, be fhort and fweet then. 
 
 Wei. Ghall the Morrow prove better to me, IhaJl I hope 
 my Suite happier by this Night's Reft } 
 
 Lady. Is your Suite fo fickly, that Reft will help it ? 
 Pray ye, let it reft then till I call for it. Sir, as a Stranger 
 you have had all my Welcome : But had I known your 
 Errand e'er you came, your PafTage had been ftraighter. 
 Sir, good Night. 
 
 Wei. So fair, and cmel ! Dear Unkind, good Night, 
 
 [£x// Lady. 
 Nay, 
 
7^^ Scor?tfull Lady. 297 
 
 Nay, Sir, you Ihail ftay with me, I'll prefs your Zea! 
 fo far. 
 
 Rog. O Lord, Sir^ - 
 
 JVel. Do you love Tobacco ? 
 
 Rog. Surely, I love it, but it loves not me ; 
 Yet, with your Reverence, I will be bold. 
 
 PVel. Pray, light it. Sir. How do you like it ? 
 
 Rog. I promife you, 'tis notable flinging Geer indeed. 
 It is wet. Sir -, Lord, how it brings down Rheum ! 
 
 fVel. Handle it again, Sir, you have a warm Text of it. 
 
 (13) Rog. Thanks ever premis'd for it. I promife you, 
 *Tis very powerful, and, by a Trope, fpiritual ; 
 For, certainly, it moves in fundry Places. 
 
 IVel. Ay, it does fo. Sir, and me, efpecially. 
 To ask. Sir, why you wear a Night-cap. 
 
 Rog. Affuredly, I will fpeak the Truth unto you. 
 You Ihall underftand. Sir, that my Head is broken ; 
 (14) And by whom .f* even by that rifible Beaft, the Butler. 
 
 IVel. The Butler .'' Certainly, he had all his Drink about 
 him when he did it. Strike one of your grave CafTock ? 
 The Offence, Sir ? 
 
 Rog. Reproving him at Tra-trip, Sir, forfwearing ; you 
 have the Total, furely. 
 
 tVel. You told him when his Rage was (^t a- tilt, and 
 fo he crack'd your Canons. I hope, he has not hurt your 
 gentle Reading. But fhall we fee thefe Gentlewomen To- 
 night ^ 
 
 Rog. Have Patience, Sir, until our Fellow Nicholas 
 
 [\l) Thanks ever ■^xomx^eA for it. /promife joa,] But why Thanks 
 promifed? He certainly meant to render them for the Favour. I 
 dare fay, a flight Corruption has crept in, from the Word promife 
 imiaediately following. I make no Doubt, but the Authors wrote, 
 premifed; i. e. his Thanks given by way of Preface, or Introduftion. 
 And, as it is a Term in Logick too, it has the greater Analogy to 
 Sir Roger's Charafter. 
 
 {14) Andbyiuhom? even by that vifible Beajl, the Butler."] An 
 innjijible Butler would certainly be a rare Curiofity. Every Man, 
 quoad Hofno, is equally vifible at fome Times. I am perfuaded, 
 rijihle, was the original Word : i. e. that boillerous, noify, laughing 
 Varlet. Or, perhaps, Sir Roger may ufe the Word in a more quaint 
 Acceptation ; to fignify a Man rifu dignus, worthy to be laugh'd at. 
 
 Mr. Symffon. 
 
 be 
 
298 TX^ Scornfull Lady, 
 
 be deceas'd, that is, afleep : For fo the Word is taken ; 
 (15) To Jleep^ to die, to die^ to Jleep -, a very Figure, Sir. 
 
 IFel. Cannot you caft another for the, Gendewomen ? 
 
 Rog. Not till die Man be in his Bed, his Grave : His 
 Grave, his Bed : The very fame again, Sir. Our Comick 
 Poet gives the Reafon fweetly ; (16) Plenus rimarum efi^ 
 he is full of Loope-holes, and v/ill difcover to our Pa- 
 tronefs, 
 
 Wei. Your Comment, Sir, has made me underftand 
 you. 
 
 Enter Martha the Lady*j Sifter^ and Abigail, to them^ 
 with a Pojfet. 
 
 Rog. Sir, be addreft, the Graces do falute you with 
 the full Bowl of Plenty. Is our old Enemy entomb'd ? 
 
 Abig. He's fafe. 
 
 Rog. And does he fnore out fupinely with the Poet ? 
 
 Mar. No, he out-fnores the Poet. 
 
 JVel. Gentlewoman, this Courtefy lliall bind a Stranger 
 to you, ever your Servant. 
 
 Mar. Sir, my Sifter's Stridlnefs makes not us forget 
 you are a Stranger and a Gentleman. 
 
 Abig. In footh, Sir, were I chang*d into my Lady, 
 a Gendeman, fo well indued with Parts, fhould not be 
 loft. 
 
 IVel. I thank you. Gentlewoman, and reft bound to 
 you. See, how this foul Familiar chews the Cud ! From 
 thee, and three and Fifty, good Love, deliver me ! 
 
 Mar. Will you fit down. Sir, and take a Spoon ? 
 
 IFel. I take it kindly. Lady. 
 
 Mar. It is our beft Banquet, Sir. 
 
 Rog. Shall we give Thanks ? • 
 
 (15) To Jleep, to die ; to die, to Jleep; 
 
 Not till the Man be in his Bed, his Grave; his Grave, his 
 Bed;] Thefe two Figures, as Sir Roger calls them, are a manifeil 
 Flirt at the Hamlet oi Shakespeare, in that fine Soliloquy, which 
 begins, To be, or not to be, &c. 
 
 (16) Plenus rimarum eft, he is Jull of Loope-holes \\ The Comick 
 Poet, whom Sir Roger is here quoting, is Tere nce, in his Eunuch. 
 
 Farm. Plenus rimarum fum^ hac atque iliac ferjiuo. 
 
 mi. 
 
^The ScomfuU Lady. 299 
 
 JVel. I have to the Gentlewomen already. Sir. 
 Mar. Good Sir Roger^ keep that Breath to cool your 
 part o' th' Poflet, you inay chance have a fcalding Zeal 
 elfe -, an you will needs be doing, pray, tell your Twenty 
 to yourfelf. 'Wou'd, you cou'd like this, Sir ? 
 
 iVel. I would, your Sifter wou'd like me as wejl. 
 Lady! 
 
 Mar, Sure, Sir, llie wou'd not eat you: But banifli 
 that Imagination ; Ihe's only wedded to herfelf, lies with 
 herfelf, and loves herfelf: and for another Husband than 
 herfelf, he may knock at the Gate, but ne'er come in. 
 Be wife. Sir, fhe's a Woman, and a Trouble, 
 And has her many Faults, the leaft of which is. 
 She cannot love. 
 
 Abig. God pardon her, Ihe'll do worfe ; 
 'Would, I were worthy his leaft Grief, Miftrefs Martha. 
 Wei. Now I muft over-hear her. 
 Mar. Faith, 'wou'd thou had ft them all with all my 
 Heart ; 
 I do not think, they wou'd make thee a Day older. 
 Ahig. Sir, will you put in deeper, 'tis the fweeter. 
 Mar. Well faid, old Sayings. 
 Wei. She looks like one, indeed. 
 Gentlewoman, you keep your Word, your fweet felf 
 Has made the Bottom fweeter. 
 
 Ahig. Sir, I begin a Frolick, [you. 
 
 Dare you change, Sir ? Wei. Myfelf for you, fo pleafe 
 That Smile has turn'd my Stomach : This is right 
 Th' old Emblem of the Moyle cropping of Thiftles : 
 Lord, what a hunting Head ftie carries, fure. 
 She has been ridden with a Martingale. 
 Now Love deliver me ! Rog. Do I dream, or do I 
 Wake? Surely, I know not: Am I rub'd off? 
 Is this the way of all my Morning Pray'rs ? 
 Oh Roger .^ thou'rt but Grafs, and Woman as 
 A Flow'r. ( 1 7) Did I for this confume my Carcafs 
 
 {17) — Did I for this confume my Quarters,] If Sir Roger mezvi% 
 his Body, as Mr. Sympfon obl'erves to me, one fhould conjedture, that 
 Carcafs was more fignificant, if not more obvious to be undcrdood. 
 
 In 
 
goo l7:>e Scornfull Lady, 
 
 In Meditation, Vows, and woo*d her in 
 
 Hei'oic Epijlles ? Did I expound the Owl, 
 
 And undertook with Labour and Expence 
 
 The Recolleftion of thofe Thoufand Pieces, 
 
 Confum'd in Cellars, and Tobacco-fhops 
 
 (iS) Of that our honour'd Englijhman Nich, Broughtonf 
 
 Have I done this, and am I done thus to ? 
 
 I will end with the wife Man, and fay ; He 
 
 That holds a V/oman, has an Eel by the Tail. 
 
 Mar. Sir, "tis fo late, and our Entertainment (meaning 
 our PofTet) by this is grown fo cold, that 'twere an un- 
 mannerly Part longer to hold you from your Reft : Let 
 what the Houfe has be at your Command, Sir. 
 
 Wei. Sweet Reft be with you, Lady. And to you 
 what you defire too. [Exeunt. 
 
 Abig. It ftiou'd be fome fiich good Thing hke your 
 felf then. 
 
 Wei Heav*n keep me from that Curfe, and all my Iffue ! 
 Good-night, Antiquity. 
 
 Rog. Solamen Miferis focios hahuiffe Doloris : But I 
 alone, ■ 
 
 Wei. Learned Sir, will you bid my Man come to me .? 
 And, requefting a greater Meafure of your Learning, 
 Good-night, good Mafter Roger. 
 
 Reg. Good Sir, Peace be with you ! [Exit Roger. 
 
 Wei. Adieu, dear Domine. Half a Dozen fuch in 
 A Kingdom wou'd make a Man forfwear Confeflion : 
 For who,* that had but half his Wits about him, 
 Wou'd commit the Counfel of a ierious Sin 
 (19) To Such a crewel Night-cap? Why, how now, 
 
 (18) 0/" that our honoured Englifhman Ni. J5r.] The Poets, I do 
 not apprehend, had any Intention of finking, or making a Secret, of 
 this Author's Name. He was fo well known at that Time of Day, 
 that the Copyifts thought, they might fafely give us his Name abbre- 
 viated. He was a voluminous Writer, who, amongft other Things, 
 compiled an elaborate Traft zhout Fifth-Mo7iarchy- Men. Ben.]o^- 
 soN in his Alchemijiy has made Dol. Common, in her ecftatick Fit to 
 Sir Epicure Mammon^ talk very largely out of the Works of this 
 ^ich. Broughton. 
 
 (19) To fuch a cruel Night-cap ?'\ The Poets, as Mr. Sympfon ob- 
 ferv'd with me, certainly wrote. Crewel ; i. e. made of the Ends of 
 coarfe Worfied. Shall 
 
7i5^ Scornfull Lady. 301 
 
 Shall we have an Antick ? 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 
 Whofe Head do you carry 
 Upon your Shoulders, that you jole it to 
 Againft the Pod ? Is't for your Eafe ? Or have 
 You km the Cellar ? Where are my Slippers, Sir ? 
 
 Ser. Here, Sir. 
 
 JVel. Where, Sir? (20) Have you got the pot Vertigo? 
 Have you feen the Horfes, Sir ? 
 
 Ser. Yes, Sir. 
 
 U^el. Have they any Meat ? 
 
 Ser. Faith, Sir, they have a kind of wholfome Rulhes, 
 Hay I cannot call it. 
 
 IVel. And no Provender ? 
 
 Ser. Sir, fo I take it. 
 
 JVel. You are merry. Sir, and why fo ? 
 
 Ser. Faith, Sir, here are no Oats to be got, unlefs 
 you'll have 'em in Porridge : The People are fo mainly 
 given to Spoon-meat : Yonder' s a Call of Coach-mares 
 of the Gentlewoman's, the ftrangeft Cattle. 
 
 JVel. Why.? 
 
 Ser. Why, they are tranfparent. Sir, you may fee 
 through them: 
 And fuch a Houfe ! JP'el. Come, Sir, the Truth of your 
 Difcovery. Ser. Sir, they are in Tribes like Jews: 
 The Kitchen and the Dairy make one Tribe, 
 And have their Fadion and their Fornication 
 Within themfelves ; the Buttery and the Landry 
 Arc another Tribe, and there is no Love loft ; 
 The Chambers are entire, and what's done there. 
 Is fomewhat higher than my Knowledge, Sir : 
 But this I am fure, between thefe Copulations, 
 A Stranger is kept virtuous, that is, fading. 
 But, of all this, the Drink, Sir— — • 
 
 (20) Have you got />&^ /o/-Verdugo ?] Verdugo is a Word oi Spanijh 
 Extraftion; but, amongft all the Significations in which it is taken, 
 it has no one Ccnfonant to the Idea and Meaning here required. The 
 Poets mud certainly have wrote Vertigo, a Dizzinefs, or Swimming 
 in the Head, with Drink. 
 
 JVel. 
 
30 2 l*he ScornfuU Lady. 
 
 JVcl What of that. Sir? 
 
 Sei\ Faith, Sir, I will iiandle it as the Time and your 
 Patience 
 Will give me Leave. Tliis Drink, or cooling Julip, 
 Of which three Spoonfuls kills the Calenture, 
 A Pint breeds the cold Pally.— Wei Sir, you belye 
 The Houfe. Ser. I wou'd, I did, Sir. But as I am 
 (21) A true Man, if it were but one Degree 
 Coldef, nothing but an Afs's Hoof would hold it. 
 
 Wei I am glad on't. Sir, for if it had prov*d ftronger. 
 You had been Tongue-ty'd of thefe Commendations. 
 Light me die Candle, Sir, Fll hear no more. [Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Toung Lovelefs, and his Comrades, with Wenches, 
 and two Fidlers. 
 
 To. Love. Come, my brave Man of War, trace out 
 thy Darling, 
 And you my learned Council, fit and tune, Boys ; 
 Kifs till the Cow come home, kifs clofe, kifs clofe. Knaves. 
 My Modern Poet, thou Ihalt kifs in Couplets. 
 
 Enter Servant, with Wine. 
 
 Strike up, you meriy Varlets, and leave your peeping j 
 This is no Pay for Fidlers. 
 
 " Capt. O my dear Boy ; thy Hercules, thy Captain 
 Makes thee his Hylas, his Delight, his Solace. 
 Love thy brave Man of War, and let thy Bounty 
 Clap him in Shamois: Let there be deducted 
 
 (21) ■ < if it nx'tre but one Degree 
 
 Colder, nothing hut an Ais'j ]:iooi ivould hold //.] It is one 
 peculiar Impropriety in our Authors, (who, to be fure, ought every 
 where to flie>v their Learning, l"o it be done without Pedantry ;) that 
 they too frequently put it in the Mouths of Charafters, who cannot 
 well be fuppofed to know any thing of the Matter. The AUufion 
 here is to thofe extreme cold Waters which flow'd down from the 
 Mountain Nonacris in Arcadia, and which would penetrace thro' 
 every Vehicle but that of an Horfe's Hoof; as Ju stin tells us in 
 the xiith Book of his Hiltory. Plutarch and ^lian fay, it was 
 an Afb's Hoof. Arrian, Pliny, and Vitruvius, a Mule's; 
 and Qui NT us Curtius, an Ox's. The Variation in this point is 
 of very little Confeqiicnce. They were of fo very cold a Quality, as 
 to be mortal to thofe who drank of them. 
 
 out 
 
TJ^ Scornfull Lady, 303 
 
 Out of our main Potation five Marks 
 In Hatchments to adorn this puilTant Thigh, 
 Cramp'd with this Reft of Peace, and I will fight 
 Thy Battels. 
 
 To. Loze. Thou fhalt have't. Boy, and fly in Feather; 
 Lead on a March, you Michers. ■•'ri 
 
 Enter Savil. 
 
 Sav. O my Head, my Heart, what a Noife and 
 Change is here ! 
 *Wou'd, I had been cold i'th* Mouth before this Day, 
 And ne'er have liv'd to fee this Diflblution. 
 He that lives within a Mile of this Place, 
 Had as good flecp in the perpetual 
 Noife of an Iron Mill. There's a dead Sea 
 Of Drink i'th' Cellar, in which goodly VeflTels 
 Lie wrack'd, and in the middle of this Deluge 
 Appear the Tops of Flagons and Black-jacks, 
 Like Churches drown'd i'th* Marflies. 
 
 To. Love. What, art thou come .'* 
 My fweet Sir Amias^ welcome to 1'roy. Come, thou Ihalt 
 kifs my Helen., and court her in a Dance. 
 
 Sav, Good Sir, confider. 
 
 To. hove. Shall we confider. Gentlemen ? 
 How fay you .'' Capt. Confider.'* That were a fimple Toy 
 I'faithi confider.? Whofe Moral's that ? 
 The Man, that cries, confider^ is our Foe : Let my Steel 
 know him. 
 
 To. Love. Stay thy dead-doing Hand, 
 He muft not die yet : Prithee be calm, my He^or. 
 
 Cap. Peafant Slave! 
 Thou Groom compos*d of Grudgings, live and thank 
 This Gentleman, thou hadft feen Pluto elfe ! 
 The next confider kills thee. 
 
 Trav. Let him drink down his Word again in a Gallon 
 of Sack. 
 
 Poet. *Tis but a Snuff, make it two Gallons, and let 
 him do it kneeling in Repentance. 
 
 Sav. Nay, rather kill me, there's but a Lay-man loft. 
 Good Captain, do your Ofiice. 
 
 To, Love. 
 
304 ?^^ Scorn full Lady, 
 
 To. Lcve. Thou fhalt drink. Steward, drink and dance, 
 my Steward. Strike liim a Horn-pipe, Squeakers ; ( 2 2 ) take 
 thy Stiver, and pace her till fhe flew. 
 
 Sav. Sure, Sir, I cannot dance with your Gentlewomen, 
 they are too light for me j pray break my Head, and let 
 me go. 
 
 Capt. He fhall dance, he Ihall dance. 
 
 To. Love. He fhall dance, and drink, and be dmnk and 
 dance, and be drunk again, and fliall fee no Meat in a 
 Year. 
 
 Poet. And three Quarters. 
 
 To. Love. And three Quarters be it. 
 
 Capt. Who knocks there ? Let him in. 
 
 Enter Elder Lovelefs, difguis'd. 
 
 Sav. Some to deliver me, I hope. 
 
 EL Love. Gentlemen, God fave you all ! my Bufinefs is 
 to one Mafter Lovelefs. 
 
 Capt. This is the Gendeman you mean ; view him. 
 And take his Inventory, he's a right one. 
 
 El. Love. He promifes no lefs. Sir. 
 
 To. Love. Sir, Your Bufinefs ^ 
 
 El. Love. Sir, I fhou'd let you know, yet I am loth, 
 Yet I am fwom to*t ; *wou'd, fome other Tongue 
 Wou'd ipeak it for me ! 
 
 To. Love. Out with it, i' God's Name. 
 
 El. Love. All I defire, Sir, is the Patience 
 And SufF'rance of a Man j and, good Sir, be 
 Not mov'd more. 
 
 To. Love. Than a Pottle of Sack will do. 
 Here is my Hand ; prithee, thy Bufinefs .'' 
 
 El. Love. Good Sir, excufe me -, and whatfoever you hear. 
 Think, muft have been loiown to you ; and be yourfelf, 
 
 (22) take thy Striver, and pace her till Jhe Jle^JO.'\ Here is both 
 Obfcurity and Nonfenfe, from the cafual Interpofition of one unne- 
 ceffary Letter. Zt'mje was the old and obfolete Term for the Stenvs ; 
 and confequently, a Stiver, as it (hould be reftored in the Text, was 
 a Girl, a Strumpet, who ply'd there. Hence, perhaps, might come 
 the Word Sti-ver too, to fignify that inconfiderable Coin (the fifth 
 Part of an Englijh Penny) the Pay of thefe mean Proftitutes, thefe 
 Meretrices diobolares, as Plautus fljrles them. 
 
 Difcreet, 
 
Tte Scor?ifull Lady. 305 
 
 Difcreet, and bear it nobly. 
 
 To. Love. Prithee, difpatch me: 
 
 El. Love. Your Bj-otlier's dead, Sir ! 
 
 To. Love. Thou doft not mean, dead Drunk ? 
 
 El. Love. No, no, dead and drown'd at Sea, Sir. 
 
 To. Love. Art fure, he*s dead ? 
 
 El. Love. Too fure. Sir. 
 
 To. Love. Ay, but art thou veiy certainly fure of it ? 
 
 El. Love. As fure. Sir, as I tell it. 
 
 To. Love. But art thou fure he came not up again ? 
 
 El. Love. He may come up, but ne'er to call you Bro- 
 ther. 
 
 To. Love. But art fure he had Water enough to drown 
 him ? 
 
 El. Love. Sure, Sir, he wanted none. 
 
 To. Love. I would not have him want, I lov'd him better : 
 Here I forgive thee •, and, i' faith, be plain ; 
 How do I bear it .'' 
 
 El. Love. Very wifely. Sir. 
 
 To. Love. Fill him fome Wine. Thou doft not fee 
 me mov'd, 
 Thefe tranfitory Toys ne'er trouble me, 
 He's in a better Place, my Friend, I know't. 
 Some Fellows wou'd have cry'd now, and have curs'd thee, 
 And fain out with their Meat, and kept a Pudder ; 
 But all this helps not, he was too good for us. 
 And let God keep him ! There's the right Ufe on't, Friend/ 
 Off with thy Drink, thou haft a Spice of Sorrow 
 Makes thee a-dry : Fill him another. Savil.^ 
 Your Maftcr's dead, and who am I now, Savil? 
 Nay, let's all bear it well ^ wipe, Savil, wipe ; 
 Tears are but thrown away : we ftiall have Wenches 
 Now, ftiall we not, Savil ? Sav. Yes, Sir. 
 
 To. Love. And drink innumerable ? 
 
 Sav. Yes, forfooth. ., 
 
 To. Love. And you'l ftrain Curt'fy, and be drunk a 
 little ? 
 
 Sav. I wou'd be glad. Sir, to do my weak Endeavour. 
 To. Love. You may be brought in time to love a 
 Wench too. 
 
 Vol. I. X Sm}. 
 
3o6 The Scornfull Lady. 
 
 Saz'. In time the fturdy Oak, Sir 
 
 2^c. Lcve. Some more Wine for my Friend there. 
 
 El. Love, I (hall be drunk anon for my good News ; 
 But I've a loving Brother, that's my Comfort. 
 
 7'o. Lov. Here's to you, Sir, 
 This is the worPc I wifli you for your News : 
 And if I had another elder Brother, 
 And fay, it were his Chance too to feed Haddocks, 
 I llioiild be Hill the fame you fee me now ; 
 A poor contented Gentleman. More Wine for my Friend 
 there, he's dry again. 
 
 EL Love, I fliall be, if I follow this Beginning. 
 Well, my dear Brother, if I 'fcape this Drowning, 
 'Tis your Turn next to fink ; you fhall duck twice 
 Before I help you. Sir, I cannot drink more ; 
 Pray, let me have your Pardon. To. Love. O Lord, Sir, 
 It is your Modefty : More Wine, 
 Give him a bigger Glafs ; hug him, my Captain, 
 Thou fhalt be my chief Mourner. 
 
 Capt. And this my Pennon : 
 Sir, a full Caroufe to you, and to my Lord of Land here. 
 
 El. Love. I feel a buzzing in my Brains ; pray God, I 
 bear this out, and I'll ne'er trouble them fo far again. 
 Here's to you, Sir. 
 
 To. Love. To my dear Steward •, Down o' your Knees, 
 you InHdel, you Pagan ; be drunk and penitent. 
 
 Sav. Forgive me, Sir, and I'll be any thing. 
 
 To. Love. Then be a Baud, I'll have thee a brave Baud. 
 
 El. Love. Sir, I mult take my Leave of you, my Bufi- 
 nefs is fo urgent. 
 
 To. Lcve. Let's have a bridling Caft, before you go. 
 Fill's a new Stoupe. 
 
 El. Love. I dare not, Sir, by no means. 
 
 To. Love. Have you any mind to a Wench ^ I would 
 fain gratify you for the Pains you took, Sir. 
 
 El. Love. As little as to the t'other. 
 
 To. Love. If you find any Stirring, do but lay fo. 
 
 El. Love. Sir, you're too bounteous •, when I feel that 
 Itching, 
 You fhall alTwage it. Sir, before another: 
 
 This 
 
7*6e Scor72fidl Lady. 3O7 
 
 This only, and fareweJ, Sir. Your Brother, when 
 
 The Storm was moil extream, told all about him. 
 
 He left a Will behind him, which lies clofe 
 
 Behind the Chimney in the matted Chamber. 
 
 And fo as well. Sir, as you have made me able, 
 
 I take my Leave. Yo, Love. Let us embrace him all: 
 
 If you grow dry before you end your Bufinefs, 
 
 Pray, take a Biit here, I've a frefh Hogfhead for you. 
 
 Sav, You Ihall neither will, nor chufe. Sir. My Ma- 
 iler is a wonderful fine Gentleman ; has a fine State, a 
 very fine State, Sir; I am his Steward, Sir, and his 
 Man. 
 
 EL Love. Wou'd, you were your own, Sir, as I left you. 
 Well, I mufl cad about, or all finks. 
 
 Sav. Farewcl, Gentleman, Gentleman, Gentleman! 
 
 El. Love. What wou*d you with me. Sir ? 
 
 Sav. Farewel, Gentleman! 
 
 EL Love. O (leep. Sir, fleep. [Ex. El. Love. 
 
 To. Love. Well, Boys, you lee what's fali'n, let's in 
 and drink. 
 And give Thanks for it. 
 
 Capt. Let's give Thanks for it. 
 
 To. Love. Drunk, as I live. 
 
 Sav. Drunk, as 1 live. Boys. 
 
 To. Love. Why, now thou art able to difcharge thine 
 Office, and call up a Reckoning of fome weight; I will 
 be Knighted, for my State will bear it, 'tis fixteen hun- 
 dred. Boys : Off with your Husks, I'll skin you all in 
 Sattin. 
 
 Capt. O fweet Lovekfs ! 
 
 Sav. All in Sattin ! O fweet Lovekfs ! 
 
 To. Love. March in, my noble Compeers : And this my 
 Countefs fhall be led by two : And fo proceed we to the 
 Will. [Exeunt, 
 
 Enter Morecraft the Ufurer, and Widow. 
 
 Mw. And Widow, as I fay, be your own Friend : 
 Your Husband left you wealthy, ay, and wife. 
 Continue fo, fweet Duck, continue fo. 
 Talce heed of young fmooth Varlets, younger Brothers ; 
 
 X 2 They 
 
 I 
 
308 'The Scornfull Lady, 
 
 They are Worms that will eat through your Bags -, they 
 
 are very 
 I^ightning, that with a Flafli or two will melt 
 Your Money, and never finge your Purfe-ftrings : They 
 Are Colts, Wench, Colts, heady and dangerous, *till 
 We take 'em up, and make 'em fit for Bonds. 
 Look upon me, I have had, and have yet 
 Matter of moment. Girl, Matter of moment -, 
 You may meet with a worfe Back, I'll not commend it. 
 
 fVid. Nor I neither, Sir. 
 
 Mor. Yet thus far by your Favour, Widow, 'tis tough. 
 
 IVid. Therefore not for my Diet ; I love a tender one. 
 
 Mor. Sweet Widow, leave your Frumps, and be edi- 
 You know my State, I fell no Perfpcdtives, [fied : 
 
 Scarfs, Gloves, nor Hangers, nor put my Truft in Shoe- 
 And where your Husband in an Age was rifing [ties ; 
 By burnt Figs, drudg'd with Meal and powdered Sugar, 
 Saunders, and Grains, Wormfeed and rotten Raifins, 
 And vile Tobacco, that made the Footmen mangy, 
 I in a Year, have put up hundreds inclos'd, 
 Thofe pleafant Meadows, by a forfeit Mortgage; 
 For which the poor Knight takes him a lone Chamber, 
 Owes for his Ale, and dare not beat his Floftefs : 
 Nay, more — 
 
 Wid. Good Sir, no more ; whatever my Husband was, 
 I know what I am, and if you marry me. 
 You muft bear it bravely off. Sir. 
 
 Mor. Not with the Head, fwcet Widow. 
 
 IVid. No, fwcet Sir, 
 But with your Shoulders : I muft have you dubb'd. 
 For under that I will not ftoop a Feather. 
 My Husband was a Fellow lov'd to toil. 
 Fed ill, made Gain his Exercife, and fo 
 Grew coftive, which, for that I was his Wife, 
 I gave way to, and Ipun mine own Smocks coarle. 
 
 And Sir, fo little,- But let that pafs; Time, 
 
 That wears all things out, wore out this Husband, = 
 Who in Penitence of fuch fruitJefs five Years Marriage, 
 Left me great with his Wealth, which if you'll be 
 A worthy Gofllp to, be knighted. Sir. 
 
 Enter 
 
The Scontfull Lady, 309 
 
 Enter Savil. 
 
 Mor. Now, Sir, from whom come you ? Wliofe Man 
 are you. Sir ? 
 
 Sav. Sir, I come from young Mailer Lovelefs. 
 
 Mor. Be filent, Sir, 
 I have no Money, not a Penny for you. 
 He's funk, your Mailer's funk -, a perifh'd Man, Sir. 
 
 Sav. Indeed, his Brother's funk. Sir, God be with him! 
 A perifh'd Man, indeed, and drown'd at Sea. 
 
 Mcr. How faidll thou, good my Friend, his Brother 
 drown'd ? 
 
 Sav. Untimely, Sir, at Sea. 
 
 Mor. And thy young Mailer 
 Left fole Heir.? Sav. Yes, Sir. 
 
 Mcr. And he wants Money .? Sav. Yes, 
 And fent me to you, for he is now to be knighted. 
 
 Mor. Widow, be wife, there's more Land coming, 
 Widow, 
 Be very wife, and give Thanks for me. Widow. 
 
 Wid. Be you very Wife, and be knighted, and then 
 give Thanks for me, Sir ; ■ 
 
 Sav. What fays your Worfhip to this Money ? 
 
 Mor. 1 fay, 
 He may have Money, if he pleafe. 
 
 Sav. A Thoufand, Sir? 
 
 Mor. A Thoufand, Sir, provided, my wife Sir, 
 His Land he for the Payment, otherwife ■ 
 
 Enter I'oung Lovelefs, and Comrades., to them. 
 
 Sav. He's here himfelf. Sir, and can better tell you. 
 
 Mor. My notable dear Friend, and worthy Mailer 
 Lovelefs^ 
 And now right worlhipful, all Joy and Welcome. 
 
 To. Love. Thanks to my dear Inclofer, Mailer More^ 
 Prithee, old Angel o' Gold, falute my Family, [craft \ 
 I'll do as much for yours j this, and your own 
 Pefires, fair Gentlewoman. Wid. And yours. Sir, 
 If you mean well; *tis a handfome Gentleman. 
 
 To, Love. Sirrah, my Brother's dead. 
 
 X 3 MttK 
 
3IO The Scornfull Lady, 
 
 Mot. Dead? 
 
 To. Love. Dead, and by this time fouft for Ember- week. 
 
 Mor. Dead? 
 
 To. Love. Drown'd, drown'd at Sea, Man ; by the 
 next frefh Conger 
 That comes we fhall hear more. 
 
 Mor. Now, by my Faith 
 Of Body it moves me much. 
 
 To. Love. What, wilt thou be an Afs, 
 And weep for th' Dead ? Why, I thought nothing but 
 A general Inundation would have mov'd thee. 
 Prithee, be quiet, he hath left his Land 
 Behind him. 
 
 Mor. O, has he fo ? To. Love. Yes , faith, I thank 
 Him for't, I've all. Boy ; haft any ready Mojiey ? 
 
 Mor. Will you fell, Sir? 
 
 To. Love. No, not outright, good Gripe ; 
 Marry, a Mortgage, or fuch a flight Security. 
 
 Mor. 1 have no Money, Sir, for Mortgage; if you'll fell. 
 And all or none, I'll work a new Mine for you. 
 
 Sav. Good Sir, look before you, he'll work you out 
 of all elfe : If you fell all your Land, you have fold your 
 Country, and then you mufc to Sea, to feek your Brother, 
 and there lie pickled in a Powdering-Tub, and break your 
 Teeth with Biskets and hard Beef, that muft have water- 
 ing. Sir: And where*s your 300 Pounds a Year in Drink 
 then? If you'll turn up the Straits you may, for you 
 have no Calling for Drink there, but with a Cannon, nor 
 no Scoring but on your Ship's Sides, and then if you 
 'fcape with Life, and take a Faggot-Boat and a Bottle of 
 Ufqitebnugh^ come home, poor Man, like a Type of Thames- 
 ftreet., ftinking of Pitch and Poor- John. I cannot tell. 
 Sir, I would be loth to fee it. 
 
 Capt. Steward, you are an Afs, a mcazel'd Mungril, 
 and were it not againft the Peace of my fovcreign Friend 
 here, I wou'd break your forecafting Coxcomb, Dog, I 
 would, even with thy Staff of Office there ; thy Pen 
 and Inkhorn. Noble Boy, the God of Gold here has 
 fed thee well, take Money for thy Dirt : Flark and be- 
 lieve, thou art cold" of Conftitution, thy Seat unhealth- 
 
 • ful, 
 
l^he Scornf'ull Lady, 311 
 
 fill, fell and be wife j wc arc three that will adorn thee, 
 and live according to thine own Heart, Child ; Mirth 
 fhall be only ours, and only ours Ihall be the black-ey*d 
 Beauties of the Time. Money makes Men immortal. 
 
 Poet. Do what you will, it is the nobleft Courfe -, 
 Then you may live without the Charge of People, 
 Only wc four will make a Family ; 
 Ay, and an Age that will beget new Annals, 
 In which I'll write thy Life, my Son of Pleafure, 
 Equal with Nero and Caligula. 
 
 T'o. Love. What Men were they. Captain ? 
 
 Capt. Two roaring Boys of Rome, that made all iplit. 
 
 To. Love. Come, Sii", what dare you give ? 
 
 Sav. You will not fell. Sir ? 
 
 To. Love. Who told you fo. Sir ? 
 
 Sav. Good Sir, have a care. [Roof. 
 
 To. Love. Peace, or Pll tack your Tongue up to your 
 What Money.'' fpeak. 
 
 Mor. Six thoufand Pound, Sir. 
 
 Capt. Take it ; h'as overbidden, by the Sun : Bind 
 him to his Bargain quickly. 
 
 T'o. Love. Come, ftrike me Luck v/ith Earnefl, and 
 draw the Writings. 
 
 Mor. There's a God's Penny for thee. 
 
 Sav. Sir, for my old Mailer's fake let my Farm be ex- 
 cepted, if I become his Tenant I am undone, my Children 
 Beggars, and my Wife God knows what : Confider me, 
 dear Sir. Mor. Pll have all or none. 
 
 To. Love. All in, all in : Difpatch the Writings. 
 
 l^Exit with Com. 
 Wild. Go, thou art a pretty forehanded Feliowj 'wou*d, 
 thou wert wifer. 
 
 Sav. Now do I fcnfibly begin to feel myfelf a Rafcal ; 
 'wou*d, I cou'd teach a School, or beg, or lie well j I am 
 utterly undone ; Now he, that taught thee to deceive 
 and cozen, take thee to his Mercy! fo be it. 
 
 [ Exit Savil. 
 
 Mor. Come, Widow, come, never ftand upon a Knight- 
 hood, 'tis a mere papjr Honour, and not Proof enough 
 for a Serjeant. Come, come, Pll make thee — — 
 
 X 4 md. 
 
312 'The Scornfull Lady, 
 
 TVid. To anfwer in fhort, 'tis this, Sir. No Knight, 
 no Widow -, if you make me any thing, it mufl be a 
 Lady, and fo I take my Leave. 
 
 Mo-r, Farewel, fweet Widow, and think of it. 
 
 M^'id. Sir, I do more than think of it, it makes me 
 dream. Sir. [Exit Wid. 
 
 Mor. She's rich and fober, if this Itch were from her : 
 and, fay, I be at the Charge to pay the Footmen, and 
 the Trumpets, ay, and the Horfemen too, and be a 
 Knight, and fhe refiafe me then ; 
 Then am I hoi ft into the Subfidy, 
 And fo by confequence fhou'd prove a Coxcomb : 
 I'll have a care of that. Six thoufand Pound, 
 And then the Land is mine, there's fome Refrefhing 
 yet. [Exit. 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Abigail, and drops her Glove, 
 
 Ahig. T F he but follow me, as all my Hopes 
 
 •*• Tell me, lie's Man enough ; up goes my Reft, 
 And, I know, I ftiall draw him. 
 
 Enter Welford. 
 
 fVel. This is the ftrangeft pamper' d piece of Flefli to- 
 wards Fifty, that ever Frailty cop'd withal •, what a trim 
 r envoy here fhe has put upon me j thefe Women are a 
 proud kind of Cattle, and love this whorefon Doing fo 
 dire6lly, that they will not ftick to make their very Skins 
 Bawds to their Flefh. Here's Dogskin and Storax fuf- 
 ficient to kill a Hawk : What to do with it, befides nail- 
 ing it up (23) amongft Irifi Heads of Teer, to ftiew 
 the Mightinefs of her Palm, I know not : there ftie is. 
 
 (23) amcngjl Irifli Heads of Tcer, to Jhevj the Migh'inefs of her 
 Palm.] Teer is the hijh Pronunciation oi Detr; thz Pa fm, (or 
 Palmer,) is cili'd the Crown of a Stag's Head. 
 
 I muft 
 
T'he Scor?tfull Lady, 313 
 
 I miift enter into Dialogue. Lady, you have loft your 
 Glove. 
 
 Jbig. Not, Sir, if you have found it. 
 
 fVd. It was my Meaning, Lady, to reftore it. 
 
 Abig. 'Twill be uncivil in me to take back 
 A Favour Fortune hath fo well beftow'd, Sir; 
 Pray, wear it for me. 
 
 fVel. I had rather wear a Bell. But, hark you, Miftrels, 
 What hidden Virtue is there in this Glove, 
 That you wou'd have me wear it? Is it good 
 Againft fore Eyes, or will it charm the Tooth-ach ? 
 Or thefe red Tops, being fteep'd in White- wine foluble, 
 Will't kill the Itch ? Or has it fo conceal'd 
 A Providence to keep my Hand from Bonds .'* 
 If it have none of thefe, and prove no more 
 But a bare Glove of half a Crown a Pair, 
 'Twill be but half a Courtefy, I wear two always ; 
 Faith, let's draw Cuts, one will do me no Pleafure. 
 
 jlbig. The Tendemefs of his Years keeps him as yet 
 in Ignorance, he*s a well-moulded Fellow, and I won- 
 der 
 
 His Blood fhou'd ftir no higher •, but *tis his Want 
 Of Company ; I muft grow nearer to him. 
 
 Enter Elder Lovelefs difguis^d. 
 
 El. Love. God fave you Both ! 
 
 Abig. And pardon you. Sir ; this is fomewhat rude, 
 how came you hither ? 
 
 El. Love. Why, through the Doors, they are open. 
 
 PFel. What are you } And what Bufinefs have you 
 here ^ 
 
 El. Love. More, I believe, than you have. 
 
 yJbig. Who would this Fellow, fpeak with ? Art thou 
 fober ^ 
 
 El. Love. Yes, I come not here to fleep. 
 
 IVel. Prithee, what art thou ? 
 
 El. Love. As much, gay Man, as thou art i I am a 
 Gentleman. 
 
 IVel. Art thou no more ? 
 
 EL Love. Yes, more than thou dar*ft be ; a Soldier. 
 
 Jbig. 
 
314 ^^ Scor?ifnll Lady, 
 
 Ahig. Thou dofl not come to quarrel ? 
 
 El. Love. No, not with Women j I come here to Ipcak 
 witli a Gentlewoman. 
 
 Ahig. Why, I am one. 
 
 El. Love. But not with one fo gentle. 
 
 Wei. This is a fine Fellow. 
 
 El. Love. Sir, I am not fine yet. I am but new come 
 over; dired me with your Ticket to your Tailor, and 
 then I fhall be fine. Sir. Lady, if there be a better of 
 your Sex within this Houfe, fay, I would fee her. 
 
 Abig. Why, am I not good enough for you. Sir? 
 
 El. Love. Your W ay, you'll be too good ; pray, end 
 my Bufinefs. 
 This is another Suitor ; O frail Woman ! 
 
 Wei. This Fellow with his Bluntnefs hopes to do 
 More than the long Suits of a thoufand cou'd ; 
 Though he be four, he*s quick, I muft not trufl him. 
 Sir, this Lady is not to fpeak with you, flie is more fe- 
 rious : You fmell as if you were new caJk'd ; go, and 
 be handfome, and then you may fit with her Serving- 
 men. 
 
 El. Love. What are you. Sir ? 
 
 Wei. Guefs by my Outfide. 
 
 El. Love. Then I take you, Sir, for fome x\t^ filken 
 Thing wean'd from the Country, that fhall (when you 
 come to keep good Company) be beaten into better Man- 
 ners. Pray, good proud Gentlewoman, help me to your 
 Miftrefs. 
 
 Ahig. How many Lives haft thou, that thou talk'ft 
 thus rudely .'* 
 
 El. Love. But one, one ; I am neither Cat nor Wo- 
 man. 
 
 Wei. And will that one Life, Sir, maintain you ever in 
 fuch bold Sawcinefs } 
 
 El. Love. Yes, amongft a Nation of fuch Men as you 
 are, and be no worfe for wearing. Shall I Ipeak with this 
 Lady? 
 
 Abig. No, by my troth, fhall you not. 
 El. Love. I muft ftay here then. 
 Wei. That you fliall not neither. 
 
 EU Love, 
 
715^ Scor?tfull Lady, 31^ 
 
 El. Love. Good fine Thing, tell me why, 
 
 Well. Good angry Thing, I'll tell you : 
 This is no Place for fuch Companions, 
 Such loufy Gentlemen Ihall find their Bufinefs 
 Better i' th' Suburbs, there your ftrong Pitch Perfijme, 
 Mingled with Lees of Ale, fhall reek in Falhion. 
 This is no T'hames-ftreet., Sir. 
 
 Ahig. This Gentleman informs you truly. 
 Prithee, be fatisfied, and feek the Suburbs, 
 Good Captain, or whatever Title elfe 
 The Warlike Eel-boats have beftow*d upon thee. 
 Go and reform thyfelf, prithee be fweeter. 
 And know, my Lady Ipeaks with no fuch Swabbers. 
 
 El. Love. You cannot talk me out with your Tradition 
 Of Wit you pick from Plays, go to, I have found ye : 
 And for you. Sir, whofe tender gentle Blood 
 Runs in your Nofe, and makes you fnuff at all 
 (24) But three-pil'd People, I do let you know. 
 He that begot your Worfhip's Sattin-fuit, 
 Can make no iVJen, Sir : I will fee this Lady, 
 And with the Reverence of your Siikenfhip, 
 In thefe old Ornaments. 
 
 Wei. You will not, fure } 
 
 El. Love. Sure, Sir, I fhall. 
 
 Abig. You wou'd be beaten out ? 
 
 El. Love. Indeed, I would not ; or if I would be beaten, 
 Pray, who fhall beat me ? This good Gentleman 
 Looks as he were o'th' Peace. 
 
 Wei. Sir, you fliall fee that : Will you get you out ? 
 
 EL Love, Yes,That that fhall corre6b yourBoy'sTongue. 
 Dare you fight ? I will ftay here ftill. Sj^hey draw. 
 
 Abig. O, their Things are out •, help, help, for God's 
 Madam — Jefus ! they foin at one another. [fake. 
 
 Enter Lady. 
 
 ISTadam, why, who is within there ? 
 Lady. Who breeds this Rudenefs .^ 
 
 (24) But three-pil'd People.] i, e. Wearers of Velvet; the Pile 
 IS the fo't Shag or PlufF of it. 
 
 Wei 
 
31 6 Hoe Scor7tfull Lady. 
 
 Wei. This uncivil Fellow ; 
 He fays, he comes from Sea ; where I believe 
 H'as purg'd away his Manners, 
 
 haiiy. Why, what of him ? 
 
 Wei Why, he will rudely, without once God blefs you^ 
 Prefs to your Privacies, and no Denial 
 Muft Hand betwixt your Perfon and his Bufinefs ; 
 I let go his ill Language. 
 
 Lady. Sir, have you Bufinefs with me ? 
 
 El. Love. Madam, fome I have. 
 But not fo ferious to pawn my Life for't : 
 If you keep this Quarter, and maintain about you 
 Such Knights o'th' Sun as this is, to defie 
 Men of Employment to ye, you may live ; 
 But in what Fame ? 
 
 Lady. Pray, ftay. Sir, who has wrong'd you ? 
 
 El. Love. Wrong me he cannot, though uncivilly 
 He flung his wild Words at me : but to you 
 1 think, he did no Honour, to deny 
 The Hafle I come withal a PafTage to you j 
 Though I feem coarfe. [ledge, 
 
 Lady. Excufe me, gentle Sir, 'twas from my Know- 
 And Ihall have no Protedion. And to you. Sir, 
 You have fhew'd more Heat than Wit, and from yourfelf 
 Have borrow'd Power, I never gave you here. 
 To do thefe vile unmanly Things. My Houfe 
 Is no blind Street to fwagger in ; and my Favours 
 Not doting yet on your unknown Dtferts 
 So far, that I fhould make you Mafter of my Bufinefs ; 
 My Credit yet ftands fairer with the People, 
 Than to be tried with Swords •, and they, that come 
 'j'o do me Service, muft not think to win me 
 With Hazard of a Murther-, if your Love 
 Confift in Fury, carry it to the Camp : 
 And there in Honour of fome common Miftrefs, 
 Shorten your Youth : I pray be better temper'd ; 
 And give me Leave a-while. Sir. 
 
 Wei. You muft have it. {Exit Welford. 
 
 Lady. Now, Sir, your Bufinefs } [Fellow, 
 
 El. Love. Firft, I thank you for fchooling this young 
 
 Whom 
 
Tlje Scornfull Lady. 317 
 
 Whom his own Follies, which he's prone enough 
 Daily to M into, if you but frown, 
 Shall level him a Way to his Repentance. 
 Next, I fhould rail at you, but you are a Woman, 
 And Anger's loft upon you. 
 
 Lady. Why at me. Sir ? 
 I never did you Wrong •, for, to my Knowledge, 
 This is the firft Sight of you. 
 
 El. Love. You have done that, 
 I muft confefs, I have the leaft Curfe in, 
 Becaufe the leaft Acquaintance : But there be 
 (If there be Honour in the Minds of Men) 
 Thoufands, when they ftiall know what I deliver, 
 (As all good Men muft fliare in't) will to Shame 
 Blaft your black Memory. 
 
 Lady. How is this, good Sir ? 
 
 El. Love. 'Tis that, that, if you have a Soul, will choak 
 You've kill'd a Gentleman. [it. 
 
 Lady. I kiird a Gentleman ! 
 
 El. Love. You, and your Cruelty, have kill'd him. 
 Woman, 
 And fuch a Man (let me be angry in*t) 
 Whofe leaft Worth weigh'd above all Women's Virtues, 
 That are ^ I fpare you all to com.e too : Guefs him now. 
 
 Lady. I am fo innocent, I cannot. Sir. [man. 
 
 El. Love. Repent, you mean ; you are a perfedt Wo- 
 And, as the firft was, made for Man's Undoing. 
 
 Lady. Sir, you have mift your Way, I am not fhe. 
 
 El. Love. 'Wou'd, he had mift his Way too, though 
 he had wander 'd 
 Farther than Women are ill fpoken of, 
 So he had mift this Mifery ; you. Lady, 
 
 Lady. How do you do. Sir ? 
 
 El. Love. Well enough, I hope j 
 While I can keep myfelf out from Temptations. 
 
 Lady. Pray, leap into this Matter, whither would ye ? 
 
 El. Love. You had a Servant, that your Peevilhnefs 
 Injoin'd to travel. 
 
 Lady. Such a one I have 
 Still, and I ihall be griev'd 'twere otherwife. 
 
 El. Love, 
 
3 1 8 Tlje Scornfull Lady, 
 
 El. Love. Then have your Asking, and be griev'd, 
 he's dead : 
 How you will anfwer for his Worth, I know not : 
 But this, I am fure, either he, or you, or Both 
 Were flark mad, elfe he might have liv'd to've given 
 A ftronger Teftimony to th' World 
 Of what he might have been. He was a Man 
 I Icnew but in his Evening •, ten Suns after, 
 Forc'd by a Tyrant Storm our beaten Bark 
 Bulg'd under us •, in which fad parting Blow 
 He call'd upon his Saint, but not for Life, 
 On you unhappy Woman ; and, whilft all 
 Sought to preferve their Souls, de delperately 
 Embrac'd a Wave, crying to all that faw it. 
 If any live, go to my Fate that forc'd me 
 To this untimely End, and make her happy. 
 His Name was Lovelefs : And I 'fcap'd the Storm, 
 And now you have my Bufinefs. 
 
 Lddy. 'Tis too much. 
 'Would, I had been that Storm, .he had not perifli'd. 
 If you'll rail now, I will forgive you. Sir : 
 Or if you'll call in more, if any more 
 Come from his Ruin, I fhall juflly fuffer 
 What they can fay : I do confefs myfelf 
 A guilty Caufe in this. (25) I wou'd fay more. 
 But Grief is grown too great to be deliver'd. 
 
 El. Love. I like this well : Thefe Women are flrange 
 Things. 
 'Tis fomewhat of the lateft now to weep. 
 You fhould have wept, when he was going from you ; 
 And chain'd him with thofe Tears at home. 
 
 Lady. 'Would, you had told me then fo, thefe two Arms 
 had been his Sea. 
 
 El. Lcve. Trufl me, you move me much : But, fay, 
 he liv'd, 
 Thefe were forgotten Things again. 
 
 (25) ■ ■ ■ I ivould fay more. 
 
 But Grief is groivn too great to be deliver'd.] 
 Cura leves hquuntur, ingtntes Jiupcnt, 
 
 Lady, 
 
7^^ Sco?'nfidl Lady. 319 
 
 Lady. Ay, fay you fo? 
 Sure, I ihould know that Voice : This is Knavery, 
 I'll fit you for it. Were he living. Sir, 
 I would perfuade you to be charitable. 
 Ay, and confefs we are not all fo ill 
 As your Opinion holds us. O my Friend, 
 What Penance fliall I pull upon my Fault, 
 Upon my moil unworthy Self for this ? 
 
 El. Lo've. Leave to love others, 'twas fome Jealoufy 
 That turned him defperate. 
 
 Lo.dy, I'll be with you ftraight : 
 Are you wrung there ? 
 
 El. Love. This works amain upon her. 
 
 Lady. I do confefs, there is a Gentleman 
 Has borne me long good Will. 
 
 El. Love. I do not like that. 
 
 Lady. And vow'd a thoufand Services to mc ; 
 To me, regardlefs of him : But fince Fate, 
 That no Pow'r can withftand, has taken from me 
 My firft, and beft Love, and to weep away 
 My Youth is a meer Folly, I will fliew you 
 What I determine, Sir : You Ihall know all : 
 Call Mr. Welford., there : That Gentleman 
 I mean to make the Model of my Fortunes, 
 And in his chall Embraces keep alive 
 The Memory of my loft lovely Lovekfs : 
 He is fomewhat like him too. 
 
 El. Love. Then you can love ? 
 
 Lady. Yes, certainly. Sir: 
 Though it pleafe you to think me hard and cruel j 
 I hope, I fhall perfuade you otherwife. 
 
 El. Love. I have made myfelf a fine Fool. 
 
 E7tter Welford. 
 
 Wei. Wou'd you have Ipoke with me. Madam ? 
 
 Lady. Yes, Mr. Welford., and I ask your Pardon 
 Before this Gentleman for being froward : 
 This Kifs, and henceforth more Affeflion. 
 
 El. Love. So, it is better I were drown'd indeed. 
 
 Wd, This is a fudden Pafllon, God hold it ! 
 
 This 
 
320 The Scornfull Lady, 
 
 This Fellow out of his Fear, fure, has 
 Perlliadcd her. I'lJ give him a new Suit on't. 
 
 Lady. A parting Kifs, and, good Sir, let me pray you 
 To wait me in the Gallery. 
 
 Wei. I am in another World j Madam, where you 
 pleafe. \^Exit Welford. 
 
 El. Lore. I will to Sea, and *t fhall go hard but I'll 
 Be drown' d indeed. 
 
 hady. Now, Sir, you fee I am no fuch hard Creature, 
 But Time may win m.e. 
 
 El. Love. You have forgot your loft Love. 
 
 Lady. Alas ! Sir, what would you have me do ? 
 I cannot call him back again with Sorrow; 
 I'll love this Man as dearly, and befhrow me, 
 I'll keep him far enough from Sea ; 'twas told me. 
 Now I remember me, by an old wife Woman, 
 That my firft Lover Ihould be drown' d, and fee, 
 'Tis come about. 
 
 El. Love. I would fhe had told you your fecond fhould 
 be hang'd too, and let that come about : But this is very 
 ftrange. 
 
 Lady. Faith, Sir, confider all, and then I know you'll 
 be of my Mind : If weeping would redeem him, I would 
 weep ftill. 
 
 El. Love. But, fay, that I were Lovelefs, 
 And fcap'd the Storm, how would you anfwer this ? 
 
 Lady. Why, for that Gentleman I would leave all the 
 World. 
 
 El. Love. This young Thing too ? 
 
 Lady. That young Thing too. 
 Or any young Thing elfe : Why, I would lofe my State. 
 
 El. Love. Why, then he hves ftill, I am he, your 
 Lovelefs. 
 
 Lady. Alas, I knew it, Sir, and for that Purpofe 
 Prepar'd this Pageant : Get you to your Task ; 
 And leave thefe Players' Tricks, or I fhall leave you. 
 Indeed, I ftiall. Travel, or know me not. 
 
 El. Love. Will you then marry .'' 
 
 Lady. 1 will not promife, take your Choice. Farewel. 
 
 El, Love, 
 
l^e Scornfull Lady, 321 
 
 El. Love, TJicre is no other Purgatory but a Woman. 
 I muil do forncthing. [£.y?/ Lovelefs. 
 
 Eritcr Wclford. 
 
 Wd. Miftrcfs, I am bold. 
 
 Lady. You are, indeed. 
 
 Wei. You To overjoy 'd me, Laiiy. [come. 
 
 Lady. Take Jiecd, you lurtcit not ; pray faft, and wel- 
 
 IVel. By this Light, you love me extreamly. 
 
 Lady. By this, and To-morrow's Light, I care not for 
 
 IVel. Come, come, you cannot hide it, [you. 
 
 Lady. Indeed, I can, where you fliall never find it. 
 
 Wei. I like this Mirth well, Lady. 
 
 Lady. You (hall have more on't. 
 
 Wei. I muft kifs you. 
 
 Lady. No, Sir. 
 
 Wei. Indeed, I mufl. 
 
 Lady. What mufl: be, mull be -, I'll take my Leave, 
 you have your parting Blow : I pray, commend me to 
 rhofe few Friends you have, that fent you hither, and teU 
 them when you travel next, 'twere lit you brought lefs 
 Brav'ry with you and more Wit \ you'll never get a 
 Wife elfe. 
 
 Wei. A re' you in Earneft? 
 
 Lady. Yes, faith. Will you eat, Sir ? Your Horfes will 
 be ready ftraight, you Ihall have a Napkin laid in the 
 Buttery for ye. 
 
 Wei. Do not you love me then ? 
 
 Lady. Yes, for that Face. 
 
 Wei. It is a good one. Lady. 
 
 Lady. Yes, if it were not warpt, the Fire in time may 
 mend it. 
 
 Wei. Mrthinks, yours is none of the bed, Lady, 
 
 Lady. No, by my troth, Sir j yet, o' my Confcience, 
 You wou'd make Ihift with it. 
 
 Wei. Come, pray, no more of this. [there ? 
 
 Lady. I will not : Fare you well, Flo, who's Within 
 Bring out the Gentleman's Horfes, he's in haile \ 
 And {tt fome cold Meat on the Table, 
 
 Wei. I have too much of that, I thank you, Lady : 
 
 Vol. L Y tak(; 
 
322 72^ Scornfull Lady. 
 
 take your Chamber when you pleafe, there goes a black 
 one with you, Lady. 
 
 Lady. Farewel, young Man. {Exit Lady. 
 
 Wei. You have made me one ; Farewel ; and may the 
 Curfe of a great Houfe fall upon thee , I mean, the But- 
 ler! The Devil and all his Works are in thefe Women; 
 'wou'd, all of my Sex were of my Mind, I wou'd make 
 *em a new Lent, and a long one, that Flefh might be in 
 more Rev'rence with them. 
 
 Enter Abigail to him. 
 
 Abig. I am forry, Mr. Welford ■ 
 
 Wei, So am I, that you are here. 
 
 Ahig. How does my Lady ufe you ? 
 
 Wei. As I would ufe you, Scurvily. 
 
 Ahig. I fhou'd have been more kind, Sir. 
 
 Wei. I ihould have been undone then. Pray, leave me, 
 and look to your Sweet-meats. Hark, your Lady calls. 
 
 Ahig. Sir, I fhall borrow fo much Time without Of- 
 fence ■ 
 
 Wei. You're nothing but Offence ; for God's Love, 
 leave me. 
 
 Ahig. 'Tis ftrange, my Lady fhou'd be fuch a Tyrant — 
 
 Wei. To fend you to me. 'Pray, go flitch \ good, do ; 
 you're more Trouble to me than a Term. 
 
 Ahig. I do not know how my good Will, if I faid 
 Love I lied not, fhould any ways deferve this .'* 
 
 Wei. A thoufand Ways, a thoufand Ways ; fweet Crea- 
 ture, let me depart in Peace. 
 
 Ahig. What Creature, Sir .^ I hope, I am a Woman. 
 
 Wei. A hundred, I think, by your Noife. 
 
 Ahig. Since you are angry, Sir, I am bold to tell you 
 that I am a Woman, and a Rib. 
 
 Wei. Of a roafledHorfe.? 
 
 Ahig. Conflrue me that. 
 
 (26) Wei. A Dog can do it better; Farewel, Countefs-, 
 
 (26) A Dog can do it better ; Fare'wel, Countefs ;] This is not 
 complimental, but farcaftically fpoken. In a Pack of Hounds, an old 
 fiaunch Hunting- Bitch is often call'd Dutchefi, Counte/s, Beauty, Sec. 
 
 and 
 
The Scornfull Lady, 323 
 
 and commend me to your Lady, tell her fhe's proud, and 
 fcurvy, and fo I commit you Both to your Tempter. 
 
 AUg. Sweet Mr. Welford^ 
 
 Wei. Avoid, old Satanas : Go daub your Ruins, 
 Your Face looks fouler than a Storm : The Footman 
 Stays for you in the Lobby, Lady. 
 
 Ahig, If you were a Gentleman, I fhou'd know it by 
 your gentle Conditions. Are thefe fit Words to give a 
 Gendewoman ? 
 
 Wei. As fit, as they were made for ye. Sirrah, m.y 
 Horfes. Farewel, old Adage-, keep your Nofe warm, 
 tiie Rheum will make it Horn elfe • \Exit Wei. 
 
 Abig. The Bleffings of a prodigal young Heir 
 Be thy Companions, Weljordl Marry, come up, my 
 Gentleman, are your Gums grown fo tender they cannot 
 bite ? A skittifli Filly will be your Fortune, Welford., and 
 fair enough for fuch a Packfaddle. And I doubt not (if 
 my Aim hold) to fee her made to amble to your Hand. 
 
 [Exit Abigail, 
 
 Enter Toung Lovelefs, and Comrades ^ Morecraft, 
 Widow^ Savil, and the reji. 
 
 Cap. Save thy brave Shoulder, my young puilTant 
 Knight, 
 
 And may thy Back-fword bite them to the Bone 
 
 That love thee not, (27) thou art an Errant-man, 
 
 Go on. The Circumcis'd Ihall fall by thee. 
 
 Let Land and Labour fill the Man that tills. 
 
 Thy Sword mull be thy Plough •, and Jove it fpeed ! 
 
 Mecha fhall fweat, and Mahomet fhall fall. 
 
 And thy dear Name fill up his Monument. 
 
 To. Love. It fhall. Captain, I mean to be a Worthy.' 
 Capt. One Worthy is too little, thou fhalt be all. 
 Mor. Captain, I fliall deferve fome of your Love too." 
 Capt. Thou fhalt have Heart and Hand too, noble 
 
 Morecrafty 
 
 (27) thou art an Errant-Man, 
 
 Go on. 7he Circumcis" d P^all fall by tbee.] i. e. A Kright- 
 Errant; one fit to go on the Holy Wars; to fight againft the Turks 
 and Jeeves. 
 
 Y 2 If 
 
3^4 "The Scorn full Lady, 
 
 If thou wilt lend me Money. I am a Man of Garrifon 5 
 Be nil'd, and open to me thofe infernal Gates, 
 Whence none of thy evil Angels pafs again. 
 And I will (lile thee Noble, nay, Don Diego, 
 I'll wooe thy Infanta for thee, and my Knight 
 Shall iealt her with high Meats, and make her apt. 
 
 Mor. Pardon me, Captain, you're befide my Meaning, 
 
 T'o. Loie. No, Mr. Morecraft, 'tis the Captain's Meaning 
 I Hiou'd prepare her for ye. • 
 
 Capt. Or provoke her. 
 Speak, my modern Man, I fay provoke her. 
 
 Poet. Captain, I fay fo too, or ftir her to it. So fay 
 the Cri ticks. 
 
 yo. Love. But howfoevcr you expound it. Sir, fhe's 
 very welcome, and this Ihall ferve for Witncfs. And, 
 Widow, fince you're come fo happily, you fliall deliver 
 up the Keys and free Pofleffion of this Houfe, while I, 
 ftand by to ratify. 
 
 IVid. I had rather give it back again, believe me, 
 'Tis a Mifcry to fay, you had it. Take heed. 
 
 To. Love. 'Tis pall that. Widow; come, fit down, fome 
 W^ine there; there is a fcurvy Banquet, if- we had it. All 
 this fair Houfe is yours, Sir Savil? 
 
 Savil. Yes, Sir. 
 
 2'o. Love. Are your Keys ready, I murt eafy your 
 Burden. 
 
 Sav. I am ready. Sir, to be undone, when you fhall 
 call me to't. 
 
 1^0. Love. Come, come, thou fhalt live better. 
 
 Sav. I fliall have lefs to do, that's all, there's half a 
 dozen of my Friends i' th' Fields funning againll a Bank, 
 with half a Breech among 'em, I fhall be with 'em 
 Ihortly. The Care and continual Vexation of being rich, 
 eat up tliis Rafcal. What fliall become of my poor 
 Family ? they are no Sheep, and they mult keep them- 
 felves. 
 
 l^o. Love. Drink, Mafler Morecraft ; pray, be merry 
 Nay, an you will not drink, there's no Society; [all: 
 Captain, fpeak loud, and drink: Widow, a Word. 
 
 Capt, Expound her thoroughly, Knight. Here, God 
 
 o' Gold, 
 
Tlje Scornfull Lady, 325 
 
 o' Gold, here's to thy fair Foffefllons ; Be a Baron, and a 
 bold one : leave off your tickling of young Heirs like 
 Trouts, and let thy Chimnies fmoke. Feed Men of War, 
 live and be honed, and be fav'd yet. 
 
 Mor. I thank you, worthy Captain, for your Counfel, 
 You keep your Chimnies fmoking there, your Noftr.Is ; 
 And when you can, you feed a Man of War. 
 This makes you not a Baron, but a bare one : 
 And how or when you fliall be fav'd, let the Clark 
 O'th' Company (you've commanded) have a juft Care of. 
 
 Poet. The Man is much mov'd. Be not angry, Sir, 
 (?.8) but, as the Poet fings, let your Difplcafure be a (liort 
 Fuiy, and go out. \ ou have Ipoke home, and bitterly, 
 to me. Sir : Captain, take Truce, the Mifer is a tart and 
 a witty Whorfon 
 
 Capt. Poet, you feign, pcrdie ; the Wit of this Man 
 Lies in his Fingers Ends, he mufl: tell all ; 
 His Tongue fills his Mouth like a Neat's Tongue, and 
 only ferves to lick his hungry Chaps after a Purchace : His 
 Brains and Brimftone are the Devil's Diet to a fat Ufurer's 
 Head. To her. Knight, to lier; clap her Aboard; and 
 ilow her. Where's the brave Steward ? 
 
 Sav. Here's your poor Friend, and Savil, Sir. 
 
 Capt. Away, th'rt rich in Ornaments of Nature. 
 Firft, in thy Face, thou haft a ferious Face, 
 A betting, bargaining, and faving Face, 
 A rich Face, pawn it to the Ulurer \ 
 A Face to kindle the CompalTion 
 Of the moft ignorant and frozen Juftice. 
 
 Sav. 'Tis fuch, as I fhali not dare to Hiew it fliortly. 
 Sir. 
 
 Cap. Be blithe and bonny. Steward. Mafter Morecrafiy 
 Drink to this Man of Reckoning. 
 
 Mor. Here's e'en to him. 
 
 Sav. The Devil guide it downward ! ' Wou'd, there wer^ 
 in't an Acre of the great Broom-fickl he bought, to fweep 
 
 (28) /'lif, as the Port fingi. let your Difplcafure be a Ihort Fury.] 
 Tlie Poet, alluded to here, is Horace.. 
 Ira furor brcvis eji : ■ ■< 
 
 Y 3 yout 
 
326 'The Scorn full Lady, 
 
 your dirty Confcience, or to choak ye, 'tis all one to me, 
 Ufurer. 
 
 To. Love. Confider what I told you, you art young. 
 Unapt for worldly Bufinefs : Is it fit 
 One of fuch Tendernefs, fo delicate. 
 So contrary to Things of Care, Ihould flir 
 And break her better Meditations, 
 In the bare Brokage of a Brace of Angels ? 
 Or a new Kirtel, though it be of Sattin ? 
 Eat by the Hope of Surfeits, and lie down 
 Only in Expectation of a Morrow, 
 That may undo fome eafy-hearted Fool, 
 Or reach a Widow's Curfes ? Let out Money, 
 Whofe Ufe returns the Principal ? and get. 
 Out of thefe Troubles, a confuming Heir -, 
 For fuch a one muft follow neceflarily : 
 You /hall die hated, if not old and miferable ; 
 And that poffeft Wealth, that you got with Pining, 
 Live to fee tumbled to another's Hands, 
 That is no more a-kin to you, than you to his Cozenage ! 
 
 Wid. Sir, you fpeak well ; 'wou'd God, that Charity 
 had firil begun here. 
 
 Yo. Love. 'Tis yet Time. Be merry ; methinks, you want 
 Wine there, there's more i' th' Houfe. Captain, where 
 refts the Heakh ? 
 
 Capt. It fhall go round, Boy ^ 
 
 To. Love. Say, you can fuffer this, becaufe the End 
 Points at much Profit, can you fo far bow 
 Below your Blood, below your too much Beauty, 
 To be a Partner of this Fellow's Bed, 
 And lie with his Difeafes ? If you can, 
 I will not prefs you further : Yet look upon him : 
 There's nothing in that hide-bound Ufurer, 
 That Man of Mat, that all decay'd, but Aches, 
 For you to love, unlefs his perifh'd Lungs, 
 His dry Cough, or his Scurvy. This is Trutli, 
 And fo far I dare fpeak yet : He has yet. 
 Pad Cure of Phyfick, Spaw, or any Diet, 
 A primitive Pox in his Bones ; and o' my Knowledge 
 He has been ten times rov/eil'd : Ye may love him ; 
 
 He 
 
Tlje Scomfull Lady, 327 
 
 He had a Baftard, his own toward IfTuc, 
 
 Whip'd, and then crop'd for walhing out the Rofes 
 
 In Three-farthings to make 'em Pence. 
 
 IVid. I do not hke tliefe Morals. 
 
 To. Love. You muft not hke him then. 
 
 Enter Elder Lovelefs. 
 
 El. Love. By your Leave, Gendemen. 
 
 To. Love. By my Troth, Sir, you are welcome ; wel- 
 come, faith : Lord, what a Stranger you are grown ; pray, 
 know this Gentleman, and, if you pleafe, thefe Friends 
 here: We are merry, you fee the worfl on*sj (29) your 
 Houfe has been kept warm, Sir. 
 
 El. Love. I am glad to hear it. Brother j pray God, 
 you are wife too ! 
 
 To. Love. Pray, Mr. Morecraft^ know my elder Bro- 
 ther-, and. Captain, do your Compliment. Savil, I dare 
 fwear, is glad at Heart to fee you ; Lord, we heard. Sir, 
 you were drown'd at Sea, and fee how luckily Things 
 come about ! 
 
 Mor. This Money muft be paid again. Sir. 
 
 To. Love. No, Sir, pray keep the Sale, 'twill make 
 good Tailors* Meafures; I am well, I thank you, 
 
 IVid. By my Troth, the Gentleman has ftew*d him i^ 
 his own Sawce, I fhall love him for't. 
 
 Sav. I know not where I am, I am fo glad : 
 Your Worfhip is the welcom'fl Man alive ; 
 Upon my Knees I bid you welcome home : 
 Here has been fuch a Hurry, fuch a Din, 
 Such difmal Drinking, Swearing and Whoring, 't has al- 
 moft made me mad : We have all liv'd in a continual 
 
 (29) your Houfe has been kept warm, Sir. 
 
 Eld. Love. Pm glad to hear it. Brother; pray God, you are wife 
 too?'\ This would be a very odd Reply, did it not depend on a Pro- 
 verbial Expreflion, If you are wife, keep ycurfelf warm. So in 
 Shakespeare's Much Ado about Nothing, 
 
 So that if he has Wit enough to keep him/elf warm, ^C 
 And, again, in his Taming 0/ the Shreiu : 
 Pet. Am I not wife? 
 Kath. i'ej; keep you warm. 
 
 Y A 'TurnhaU 
 
328 "The Scorn full Lady. 
 
 *Turnbal-ftrect \ Sir, bleft be Heav'n, that fent you fafr 
 again-, now ihall I eat, and go to bed again. 
 
 hi. Love. Brother, difmifs thefe People. 
 
 JO. Love. Captain, be gone a while, meet me at my old 
 Rendevouze in the Evening, take your fmall Poet with 
 you. Mr. Morccraft., you were bell go prattle with your 
 learned Counfel, I fliall preferve your Money ; I was co- 
 zen'd when Time was, we are quit, Sir. 
 
 Ik id. Better and better ftill. 
 
 El Love. \\ hat is this Fellow, Brother? 
 
 To. Love. A thirlly Ufurer that fup'd my Land ofF. 
 
 EL L'jve. What does he tarry for? 
 
 Yc.Lcve Sir, to be Landlord of yourJbloufe and State: 
 I was bold to make a httle Sale, Sir. 
 
 A'for. Am 1 over-reach'd ? If there be Law, Pll ham- 
 per ye. 
 
 El. Love. Prithee, be gone, and rave at home, thou art 
 So bafe a Fool I cannot laugh at thee : 
 Sirrah, this comes of Coz'ning, home and fpare. 
 Fat Raddifh 'till you raiie your Sums again. 
 If you ftir far in this, I'll have you whip'd. 
 Your F.ars nail'd for Intelhgencing o' th' Pillor}^ and 
 your Goods forfeit : You are a flale Cozener, leave my 
 Houfe: No more. 
 
 Mor. A Pox upon your Houfe ! Come, Widow, I fhall 
 yet hamper this young Gameftcr. 
 
 Wid. Good twelve i* th' Hundred, keep your Way, I 
 am not for your Diet -, marry in your own Tribe, Je'u;^ 
 and get a Broker. 
 
 2'o. Love. 'Tis well faid, Widow: Will you jog on. 
 Sir ? 
 
 Mcr. Yes, I will go, but 'tis no matter whither: 
 But when I truft a wild Fool, and a Woman, 
 May I lend gratis^ and build Hofpitals ! [^Exit. 
 
 To. Love. Nay, good Sir, make all ev'n, here's a Wi- 
 dow wants your good Word for me, (he's rich, and may 
 renew me and my Fortunes. 
 
 El. Love. I am glad you look before you. Gentlewo- 
 man, here is a poor diffrefled younger Brother. 
 
 fVid. You do him Wrong, Sir, he's a Knight. 
 
 El. Love. 
 
Tjjb ScornfuU Lady, 329 
 
 El. Love. I ask you Mercy : yet *tis no matter, his 
 Knighthood is no Inheritance, I take it : Whatfoever he 
 is, he is your Servant, or wou'd be. Lady. Faith, be 
 not mercilefs, but make a Man; he's young and hand- 
 fome, though he be my Brother, and liis Oblcrvances may 
 deferve your I -ove : He fliall not fail for Means. ^ 
 
 H^id. Sir, you fpeak like a worthy Brother: And fb 
 much do I credit your fair Language, that I fliall love 
 
 your Brother : And lb love him, ■ • but 1 fliall blufli to 
 
 lay more. 
 
 El. Lcze. Step her Mouth. I hope you fliall not live 
 to know that Hour, when this fliall be repented. Now, 
 Brother, I fliou'd chide, but I'll give no Diflafl:e to your 
 fair Miftrefs. I will infl:ru(5t her in't, and flie fliall do't ; 
 You have been wild and ignorant, pray, mend it. 
 
 2^0. Love. Sir, every Day now Spring comes on. 
 
 El. Lo've. To you, good Mr. Savil^ and your Ofliee, 
 Thus much I have to fay : You're from my Steward 
 Become, firfl:, your own Drunkard, then his Bawd ; 
 They fay, you're excellent grown in both, and perfcd: : 
 Give me your Keys, Sir Savil. 
 
 Sav. Good Sir, confider whom you left me to. 
 
 El. Love. I left you as a Curb for, not to provoke 
 My Brother's Follies. Where's the befl: Drink, now? 
 Come, tell me, Savil; where's the foundefl: Whores ? 
 Ye old He-goat, ye dried Ape, ye lame Stallion, 
 (30) Mufl: you be leaping in my Houfe.'* Your Whores, 
 
 Like 
 
 (30) Tou muji he leading in my Houfe your Whores, 
 
 Like Fairies dance, A:c.] This Paffage has fufFevM both by a 
 falfe Pointing, and a flight Corruption in the Text. The Latter I 
 have cured from the Authority of the oldeft ^lartoi it wants no 
 Confirmation, from the Words, Goat z.nA Stallion, preceding; and' 
 the Expreflion is frequent in our Authors. 
 So, in Philajier ; 
 
 7V rather he Sir Tim the Schoolmajler^ 
 And\t^^ a Dairj-Maid. 
 And, again; 
 
 I kno<w hery and her Haunts^ 
 
 Her Lays, Leaps, and Outlays ; 
 Ard, again; 
 
 He looks like an old furfeited Stallion after his Leaping ; 
 
 And 
 
330 7^^ Scor?tfull Lady, 
 
 Like Fairies dance their Night-rounds, without Fear 
 Either of King or Conftable, within my Walls ? 
 Are all my Hangings fafe; my Sheep unfold yet ? 
 I hope, my Plate is currant; I ha' too much on't. 
 What fay you to three hundred Pounds in Drink now ? 
 Sav. Good Sir, forgive me, and but hear me fpeak. 
 i/. Love. Methinks, thou Ihould'll be drunk ftill, and 
 not fpeak, 
 'Tis the more pardonable. 
 
 Sav. I will, Sir, if you will have it fo. 
 El. Love. I thank ye : Yes, e'en purfue it. Sir : Do 
 you hear ? 
 
 Get you a Whore foon for your Recreation ; 
 Go look out Captain Broken-breech your Fellow, 
 And Quarrel if you dare : I fhall deliver 
 Thefe Keys to one fhall have more Honefly, 
 Though not fo much fine Wit, Sir. You may walk 
 And gather Crejfes, fit to cool your Liver ; 
 There's fomething for you to begin a Diet, 
 You'll have the Pox elfe. Speed you well. Sir Savil: 
 You may eat at my Houfe to preferve Life ; 
 But keep no Fornications in the Stables. 
 
 [ Ex. omnes pr. Savil. 
 Sav. Now muft I hang myfelf, my Friends will look 
 for't. 
 Eating and Sleeping, I do delpife you both now : 
 I will run mad firft, and, if that get not Pity, 
 I'll drown myfelf, to a moll difmal Ditty. {Exit Savil. 
 
 And in the Cujlom of the Country ; 
 
 ■ ' Hon.v big he hears J 
 
 Sure, he n»ill leap before us all: 
 &C. &C. 
 
 ACT 
 
Ihe Scorjifull Lady, 331 
 
 ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Abigail, fola. 
 
 Abig. ALAS! poor Gentlewoman, to what a Mifery 
 -*^ Hath Age now brought thee: To what a 
 fcurvy Fortune ? 
 Thou that haft been Companion for Noblemen, 
 And at the worft of Times for Gentlemen; 
 Now, like a broken Serving-man, muft beg for 
 Favour to thofe, that wou'd have crawl'd like Pilgrims 
 To my Chamber but for an Apparition of me. 
 You that be coming on, make much of Fifteen, 
 And fo till Five-and-twenty : Ufe your Time 
 With Reverence, that your Profits may arife : 
 'Twill not tarry wi' you, Ecceftgnum : Here was a Face, 
 But Time, that, like a Surfeit, eats our Youth, 
 (Plague of his Iron Teeth, and draw 'em for't !) 
 Has been a little bolder here than welcome : 
 And now, to fay the Truth, I am fit for no Man, 
 Old Men i'th* Houfe of Fifty, call me Granum \ 
 And when they are drunk, e'en then, when Joayi and my 
 Are all as one, not one will do me Reafon. [Lady 
 
 My little Levite hath forfaken me. 
 His filver Sound of Cittern quite abolifti'd. 
 His doleful Hymns under my Chamber-Window, 
 Digefted into tedious Learning now : 
 Well, Fool, you leap'd a Haddock when you left him ; 
 He's a clean Man, and a good Edifier, 
 And twenty Nobles is his State de claro^ 
 
 Befides his Pigs in poffe. ■ 
 
 To this good Homiliji I have been ever ftubborn. 
 Which God forgive me for, and mend my Manners: 
 (31) And, Love^ if ever thou had'ft Care of Forty, 
 
 (31) And, Lot'e, if e'ver thou had''Jl Cnre of Forty, 
 
 Of fuch a Piece of lape Ground, hear my Prayer,"] I believe, 
 there is no fuch Term in the EngHJh Tongue, as lape Ground. The 
 Word mull have been Lay, or Ley : i. c. Terra inculta, Nonjale : un- 
 rlow'd, uncultivated, Land. Mr. Sympfon. 
 
 Of 
 
332 The Scornfull Lady, 
 
 Of fuch a Piece of laye Ground, hear my Pray V, 
 And fire his Zeal fo far forth, that my Faults, 
 In this renew 'd ImprelTion of my Love, 
 May fhew correded to our gentle Reader. 
 
 Enter Roger. 
 
 See, fee, jiow negligently he pafles by mc •, 
 
 With what an Equipage Canonical, 
 
 As tho' he had broken the Heart of Bellarminc^ 
 
 Or added fomething to the finging Brethren. 
 
 ^Tis Scorn, I know it, and dcl'erve it. Mr, Roger 
 
 Rog. Fair Gfrntlewoman, my Name is Roger. 
 
 Ahtg. Then, gentle Roger^ • 
 
 Rcger. Ungentle AbtgaiU — — 
 
 Ahtg. Why, Mr. Rjoger., will you fet your Wit 
 To a weak Wom.an's ^ 
 
 Rog. You are weak, indeed : For fo the Poet fings. 
 
 Ahig. I do confefs my Weaknefs, fweet Sir Roger. 
 
 Rog Good my Lady's Gentlewoman, or my good La- 
 dy's Genik ^cman 
 
 (This Trope is loft to you now) leave your Pratiiig. 
 You have a Seafbn of your Erft "^ 'other in ye : 
 And, furely, had the Devil been in Love, 
 He had been abufed too : Go, Dalilah^ 
 You make Men Fools, and wear Fig-breeches. 
 
 Abig. Well, well. 
 Hard-hearted Man ; dilate upon tlie weak 
 Infirmities of Women : Thefe are fit Texts, 
 
 But once there was a Time, ■ 
 
 " Wou'd, I had never feen thofe Eyes, thofe Eyes, 
 Thofe orient Eyes. 
 
 Rog. Ay, they were Pearls once with you. 
 
 Abig. Saving your Reverence, Sir, fo they are ftill. 
 
 Rog. Nay, nay, I do befcech you, leave your Cogging, 
 What they arc, they arc, they fervT me without Spectacles, 
 I thank 'em. 
 
 Abig. O, will you kill mc ? 
 
 Rog. I do not think, I can ; 
 You're like a Copy-hold with nine Lives in't„ 
 
 Abig. 
 
Tlye Scornfiill Lady. 333 
 
 Abig. You were wont ro bear a Chriftian Fear about you : 
 For your own Worfliip's lake. 
 
 Rog. I was a Chriftian Fool then : 
 Do you remember what a Dance you led me? 
 How 1 grew qualm'd in Love, and was a Dunce? 
 Cou'd expound but oikc a Quarter, and then was out too : 
 And then out of" the ftinking Stir you put me in, 
 I pray'd for my own royal IlTuc. You do 
 Remember all this ? 
 
 y^big. O be, as then you were. 
 
 Rog. I thank you lor it, 
 Surely, I will be wifer, Abigail: and as the Ethnick 
 
 Poet fings, 
 (32) I will not lole my Oil and Labour too. 
 You're for the Worfliipful, I take it, Abigail. 
 
 Abig. O take it fo, and then I am for thee. 
 
 Rog. I lilce thefe Tears well, and this Humbling alfo, 
 they arc Symptoms of Contrition. 
 If I fliould fall into my Fit again, 
 Wou'd you not fhakc me into a quotidian Coxcomb? 
 "Wou'd you not ufe me fcurvily again. 
 And give me PofTets with purging Comfets in 'em? I 
 tell thee. Gentlewoman, thou haft been harder to me, than 
 a long Chapter with a Pedigree. 
 
 Abig. O Curate, cure me: I will love thee better, 
 dearer, longer : 
 
 1 will do any thing, betray the Secrets 
 Of the main Houfchold to thy Reformation. 
 My Lady lliall look lovingly on thy Learning, 
 And when true Time Ihali point thee for a Parfon, 
 I will convert tliy Eggs to penny Cuftards, 
 And thy tithe Goofe fhall graze and multiply. 
 
 Rog. I am mollified, as well fhall teftify 
 This faithful Kifs ; But have Care, Miftrrefs Abigail 
 How you dcprefs the Spirit any more 
 With your Rebukes and Mocks : for certainly 
 The Edge of fuch a Folly cuts itfelf. 
 
 (32) IivUl not lofe my Oil fl«</ Labour /oo.j The Ethnick Poet,, 
 here alluded to, is Plautus in his Parulus, 
 
 Turn pil Ego C2' Oleum ^' operam peraidi, 
 
 Abig. 
 
334 ^^ Scornfull Lady. 
 
 Ahig. O Sir, you have pierc'd me thorough. Here I 
 vow a Recantation to thofe malicious Faults I ever did 
 againll you. Never more 
 Will I defpife your Learning, never more 
 Pin Cards and Cony-tails upon your Caflbck; 
 Never again reproach your reverend Night-cap, 
 And call it by the mangy Name of Murrion : 
 Never your reverend Perfon, more, and fay, 
 You look hke one of Baal\ Priefts in a Hanging, 
 Never again, when you fay Grace, laugh at you, 
 Nor put you out at Prayers : Never cramp you more 
 With the great Book of Martyrs ; nor, when you ride. 
 Get Sope and Thiftles for you. No, my Roger ^ 
 Thefe Faults fhall be correfted and amended, 
 As by the Tenor of my Tears appears. 
 
 Rog. Now can't I hold, Ihould I be hang'd, I muft 
 Cry too. Come to thine own beloved, and do 
 Even what thou wilt with me, fweet, fweet Abigail. 
 1 am thine own for ever: Here's my Hand, 
 When Roger proves a Recreant, hang him i'th' Bell-ropes. 
 
 Enter Lady, and Martha. 
 
 Lady. Why, how now, Mafter Roger ^ no Pray'rs down 
 with you to Night \ Did you hear the Bell ring ? You 
 are courting -, your Flock fhall fat well for it. 
 
 Rog. I humbly ask your Pardon : FU clap up Pray'rs, 
 but ftay a little, and be with you again. \Exit Roger. 
 
 Enter Elder Lovelefs. 
 
 Lady. How dare you, being fo unworthy a Fellow 
 Prefume to come to move me any more .^ 
 
 El. Love. Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 Lady. What ails the Fellow ? 
 
 El. Love. The Fellow comes to laugh at you, 
 I tell you. Lady, I would not, for your Land, 
 Be fuch a Coxcomb, fuch a whining Afs, 
 As you decreed me for when I was laft here. 
 
 Lady. I joy to hear you are wife, 'tis a rare Jewel 
 In an Elder Brother: Pray, be wifer yet. 
 
 EL Love. Methinks, I am very wife : I do not come 
 
 A 
 
T*he Scornfull Lady, ^ZS 
 
 A wooing. Indeed, I'll move no more Love to 
 
 Your Ladyfhip. 
 
 Lady. What makes you here then ? 
 
 El. Love. Only to fee you and be merry. Lady : That's 
 all my Bufmefs. 'Faith, let's be very merry. Where's 
 little Roger ? He is a good Fellow : 
 An Hour or two, well Ipcnt in wholefome Mirth, 
 Is worth a thoufand of thefe puling Pallions. 
 'Tis an ill World for Lovers. 
 
 Lady. They were never fewer. 
 
 EL Love. I thank God, there is one the lefs for me. 
 Lady. 
 
 Lady. You were never any, Sir. 
 
 El. Love. Till now, and now 
 I am the prettied Fellow. 
 
 Lady. You talk like a Tailor, Sir. 
 
 El. Love. Methinks, your Faces are no flich fine 
 Things now. 
 
 Lady. Why did you tell me you were wife? Lord ! what 
 A lying Age is this \ where will you mend thefe Faces ? 
 
 El. Love. A Hog's Face, fouft, is worth a Hundred 
 of 'em. 
 
 Lady . Sure, you had a Sow to your Mother. 
 
 El. Love. She brought fuch fine white Pigs as you, 
 fit for none but Parfons, Lady. 
 
 Lady. 'Tis well you will allow us our Clergy yet. 
 
 El. Love. That fhall not fave you. O that I were in 
 Love again with a Wilh ! 
 
 Lady. By this Light, you are 
 A fcurvy Fellow •, pray, be gone. El. Love. You know, 
 I am a clean-skin'd Man. Lady. Do I know it ? 
 
 El. Love. Come, come, you wou'd know it-, that's 
 as good : But not a Snap, never long for't, not a Snap, 
 dear Lady. 
 
 Lady. Hark ye. Sir, hark ye, get ye to the Suburbs, 
 There's Horfe-Flefh for fuch Hounds : Will you go, Sir? 
 
 El. Love. Lord ! how I lov'd this V/oman, how I 
 worfhip'd 
 This pretty Calf with a white Face here ! As I live. 
 You were the prettreft Fool to play withal. 
 
 The 
 
336 The ScornfuU Lady. 
 
 The wittieft little Varlet, it would talk : 
 Lord, how it talk'd ! And when I angred it, 
 It would C17 out,' and fcratch, and eat no Meat, 
 And it would fay. Go hang. 
 
 Lady. It will fay fo ftill, if you anger it. [ried. 
 
 El. Love. And when I ask'd it, if it would be mar- 
 It fent me of an Errand into France., 
 And would abufe me, and be glad it did fo. 
 
 Lady. Sir, this is mofl unmanly ; pray, be gone, [me) 
 El. Loz-e. And fwear (even when it twitter'd to be at 
 I was unhandfome. Lady. Have you no Manners in you? 
 El. Love. And fay my Back was melted, when God 
 he knows, 
 I kept it at a Charge : ¥ our Flanders Mares 
 Would have been eafier to me, and a Fencer. 
 Lady. You think all this is true now .^ 
 El. Love. Faith, whether it be or no, 'tis too good 
 for you. 
 But fo much for our Mirth : Now have at you in Earneft. 
 Lady. There is enough Sir, I defire no more. 
 El. Love. Yes, Faith, we'll have a Caft at your beft 
 Parts now -, And then the Devil take the worft ! 
 
 Lady. Pray, Sir, no more, I am not fo mudi affeded 
 with your Commendations, 'tis almofl Dinner, I know 
 they flay for you at the Ordinary. 
 
 El. Love, E'en a lliort Grace, and then I am gone. 
 You are a Woman, and the proudeft that ever lov'd a 
 Coach: The fcornfullefl, fcurviell, and moft ienfelefs 
 Woman ; 
 
 The greediefl to be prais'd, and never mov'd 
 Though it be grofs and open -, the moft envious. 
 That at the poor Fame of another's Face, 
 Would eat your own, and more than is your own, 
 The Paint belonging to it : Of fuch a Self-opinion, that 
 you think none can deferve your Glove ; And, for your 
 Malice, you're fo excellent, you might have been your 
 Tempter' s-tutor : Nay, never cry. 
 
 Lady^ Your own Heart knows you wrong me : I cry 
 for ye ? 
 El. Love. You fhall before I leave you. 
 
 L^dy. 
 
The Scornfull Lady. 337 
 
 Laiy. Is all this /poke in Earneft ? 
 
 El. Love. Yes, aiid more, as foon as I can get it out. 
 
 Lady. Well, out with't. 
 
 El. Love. You are ; let me fee— — — 
 
 Lady. One that has us'd you with too much Relpeft. 
 
 EU Love. One that hath us*d me, fince you will have 
 it fo. 
 The bafelt, the moft Foot- boy-like, without Refped of 
 what I was, or what you might be by me ; you have ufed 
 me, as I would ufe a Jade, 
 
 Rid him off's Legs, then turn him to the Commons ; 
 You have us'd me with Difcretion, and I thank ye, 
 If you have many more fuch pretty Servants, 
 Pray, build an Hofpital, and, when they are old. 
 Keep 'em for Shame. 
 
 Lady. I cannot think yet this is ferious. 
 
 El. Love. Will you have more on't? 
 
 Lady. No, Faith, there's enough. 
 If it be true: Too much, by all my Part*, 
 You are no Lover then ? 
 
 El. Love. No, I had rather be a Carrier. 
 
 Lady. Why, the Gods mend all ! 
 
 El. Love. Neither do I think 
 There can be fuch a Fellow found i'th* World, 
 To be in Love with fuch a froward Woman j 
 If there be fuch, they're mad •, Jcve comfort *em ! 
 Now you have all, and I as new a Man, 
 As light, and fpirited, that I feel myfelf 
 Clean through another Creature. O 'tis brave 
 To be one's own Man, I can fee you now 
 As I would fee a Pidure, fit all Day by you. 
 And never kifs your Hand: Then hear you fing, 
 And never fall backward j but with as fet a Temper, 
 As I would hear a Fidler, rife and thank you. 
 I can now keep my Money in my Purfe, 
 That ftill was gadding out for Scarfes and Wallcoats : 
 And keep my Hand from Mercer's Sheep-skins finely. 
 I can eat Mutton now, and fcaft myfelf 
 With my two Shillings, and can fee a Play 
 For Eighteen Pence again : I can, my Lady, I can. 
 
 yoL. I. Z Ludy, 
 
33^ ^^ Scornfull Lady, 
 
 Lady. The Carriage of this Fellow vexes me. Sir, 
 Pray, let me fpeak a little private with you, — 
 I mull not fuffer this. 
 
 El. Love. Ha, ha, ha, what would you with me ? 
 You will not ravirti me ? Now, your fet Speech ? 
 . Luidy. Thou perjur'd Man 
 
 El. Love. Ha, ha, ha, this is a fine exordium. 
 And why, I pray you, perjur'd.^ 
 
 Lady. Did you not fwear 
 A thoufand thoufand times, you lov*d me beft 
 Of all Things.? 
 
 EL Love. I do confefs it : Make your beft of that. 
 
 Lady. Why do you fay, you do not then ? 
 
 El. Love. Nay, Til fwear it. 
 And give fufEcient Reafon, your own Ufage. 
 
 Lady. Do you not love me then ? 
 
 EI. Love. No, faith. 
 
 Lady. Did you ever think, I lov'd you dearly? 
 
 El. Love. Yes, but I fee but rotten Fruits on't. 
 
 Lady. Do not deny your Hand for I muft kifs it, 
 And take my laft Farewell 5 now let me die. 
 So you be happy. 
 
 El. Love. I am too foolifli : Lady, Ipeak, dear Lady. 
 
 Lady. No, let me die. [She Swoons, 
 
 Mar. Oh my Sifter ! 
 
 Jbig. O my Lady ! help, help. 
 
 Mar. Run for fome Rofa Solis ! [Lady, 
 
 El. Love. I have plaid the fine Afs : Bend her Body. 
 Beft,'deareft, worthieft Lady, hear your Servant, 
 I am not as I fhew'd : O wretched Fool, 
 To Piing away tlie Jewel of thy Life thus. 
 Give her more Air j fee, fhe begins to ftir, 
 Sweet Miftrefs, hear me. Lady. Is my Servant well? 
 
 El. Love. In being yours I am fo. 
 
 Lady. Then I care not. 
 
 El. Love. Flow do ye, reach a Chair there ; I confefs 
 My Fault not pardonable, in purfuing thus 
 Upon fuch Tendernefs my willfull Error ; 
 But had I known it wou'd have v/rought thus with ye. 
 Thus ftrangely, not the World had won me to it ; 
 
 And 
 
The Scor7ifull Lady. 339 
 
 And let not, tny bed Lady, any Word 
 
 Spoke to my End dillurb your quiet Peace ; 
 
 For fooner Ihall you knov/ a general Ruin, 
 
 Than my Faith broken. Do not doubt this, Miilrefs, 
 
 For by my Life, I cannot Uve without you. 
 
 Come, come, you fhall not grieve, rather be angry. 
 
 And heap Afflidion on me : I will fuffer. 
 
 O, I could ciirfe myfelf; pray, fmile upon me. 
 
 Upon my Faith, 'twas but a Trick to try you. 
 
 Knowing you lov'd me dearly, and yet ftrangely 
 
 That you would never Ihew it, though my Means 
 
 Was all Humanity. 
 
 All. Ha, ha. El. Love. How now ? 
 
 Lady. I thank you, fine Fool, for your moft fine Plot j 
 This was a fubtle one, a ftitf Device 
 To have caught Dottrels with. Good fenfelefs Sir, 
 Could you imagine I fhould fwoon for you. 
 And know yourfelf to be an arrant Afs .? 
 Ay, a difcover*d one. *Tis quit, I thank you. Sir, 
 Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 Mar. Take heed, Sir, fhe may chance to fwoon again.' 
 
 All. Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 Ahig, Step to her, Sir, fee, how fhe changes Colour. 
 
 El. Love. V\\ go to Hell firft, and be better welcome. 
 {'3^1) I am fool'd, I do confefs it, finely fool'd, 
 Lady-fool'd, Madam •, and I thank you for it. 
 
 Lady. Faith, 'tis not fo much worth. Sir : 
 But if I knew when you come next a Birding, 
 I'll have a ftronger Noofe to hold the Woodcock. 
 
 All. Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 El. Love. I am glad to fee you merry : Pray, laugh on. 
 
 Mar. H*ad a hard Heart, that could not laugh at you. 
 Sir ; ha, ha, ha. 
 
 Lady. Pray, Sifter, do not laugh, you'll anger him. 
 And then he'll rail like a rude Coftermonger, 
 
 (33) lamfooVd, I do confefs it, finely fool" d^ 
 
 ^ Lady, fool'd. Madam,] What, call her Lady and Madam 
 too, within the Compafs of three Words ? LoveUfs would fay, he 
 was grown a Woman's Fool, Lady-fool'd; as Mf. Sympfon faw with 
 lae the Texr ought to be reftor'd. 
 
 Z 2 That 
 
340 ^^ Scornfull "Lady, 
 
 That School-boys had couzened of his Apples, 
 As loud and fenfelcfs. 
 
 El. Love. I will not rail. 
 
 Mar. Faith, then let's hear him, Sifter. 
 
 El. Love. Yes, you fhall hear me. 
 
 Lady. Shall we be the better by it then ? [Words, 
 
 El. Love. No, he that makes a Woman better by his 
 ril have him Sainted : Blows will not do it. 
 
 Lady. By this Light, he'll beat us. 
 
 El. Love. You do deferve it richly. 
 And may live to have a Beadle do it. 
 
 Lady. Now he rails. 
 . El. Love. Come, fcornfuU Folly, 
 If this be railing, you Ihall hear me rail. 
 
 Lady. Pray, put it in good Words then. 
 
 El. Love. The worft are good enough for fuch a Trifle, 
 Such a proud Piece of Cobweb-lawn. 
 
 Lady. You bite. Sir. 
 
 El. Love. I wou'd till the Bones crack'd, an I had 
 my Will. 
 
 Mar. We had beft muzzle him, he grows mad. 
 
 El. Love. 1 wou'd 'twere lawful in the next great Sick- 
 nefs to have the Dogs fpar'd, thofe harmlefs Creatures, 
 and knock i'th* Head thofe hot continual Plagues, Wo- 
 men, that are more infeftious. I liope, the State will 
 think on't. 
 
 Lady. Are you well. Sir? 
 
 Mar. He looks as though he had a grievous Fit o'th* 
 Cholick. 
 
 El. Love. Green-ginger will cure me. 
 
 Jbig. I'll heat a Trencher for him. 
 
 El. Love. Dirty December., do. 
 Thou with a Face as old as Erra Pater, 
 Such a Prognofticating Nofe : Thou Thing, 
 That ten Years fince has kit to be a Woman, 
 Out-wom the Kxpedtation of a Bawd -, 
 {34) And thy dry Bones can reach at nothing now. 
 
 But 
 
 {34) yind thy dry Bones can reach at nothing noiu, 
 
 '■ £ i-i 'Tiordi, or AV«f />;«j j] "J'here i» no fuch Word, that I 
 i ,Mk know 
 
The Scornfull Lady, 341 
 
 But Coggs or Ninepins ; pray, go fetch a Trencher, go. 
 
 Lady. Let him alone, he's crack'd. 
 
 Abig. I'll fee him hang'd firft, he's a bcaflly Fellow 
 To ufe a Woman of my Breeding thus ; 
 Ay, marry is he : Wou'd I were a Man, 
 I'd make him eat his Knaves' Words. 
 
 El. Love. Tie your flie Otter up, good Lady Folly, 
 She (links worfe than a Bear-baiting. 
 
 Lady. Why will you be angry now ? 
 
 El. Love. Go paint, and purge. 
 Call in your Kennel with you : You a Lady ? 
 
 Abig. Sirrah, look to't againfl: the Quarter-SefTions, 
 If there be a good Behaviour in the World, 
 I'll have thee bound to it. 
 
 El. Love. You muft not feek it in your Lady's Houfc 
 then ; 
 
 Pray, fend this Ferret home •, and fpin, good Abigail. 
 And, Madam, that your Ladyfhip may know. 
 In what bafe manner you have us'd my Serv^ ice, 
 I do from this Hour hate ye heartily ; 
 And though your Folly fhould whip you to Repentance, 
 And waken you at length to fee my Wrongs, 
 'Tis not the Endeavour of your Life Ihall win me ; 
 Not all the Friends you have, nor IntercefTion, 
 Nor your fubmifTive Letters, though they fpoke 
 As many Tears as Words ; not your Knees grown 
 To th' Ground in Penitence, nor all your State, 
 To kifs you ; nor my Pardon, nor my Will 
 To give you Chriftian Burial, if you die thus ; 
 So, farewel. — W'hen I am married and made fure, FU 
 
 come 
 And vifit you again, and vex you. Lady. 
 By all my Hopes, I'll be a Torment to you, 
 Worfe than a tedious Winter. I know you will. 
 Recant and fue to me, but lave that Labour : 
 I'll rather love a Fever and continual Thirds 
 
 know of, as GorJs. Our Poets murt certainly have wrote Coggt ; 
 I, e. hard, dry, tough Pieces of Wood, which are call'd the Teeth 
 of a Mill-Wheel. Mr. Sym^/on. 
 
 Z 3 rather 
 
342 'The Scorn full Lady, 
 
 (35) Rather contrad: my Youth to drink and fwagger, 
 Doat upon Quarrels, or take a drawn Whore from 
 An Hofpital, that Time, Difcafes, and 
 Mercury had eaten, than to be drawn to love you. 
 
 Lady. Ha, ha, ha, pray do, but take Heed though. 
 
 El. Love. From thee, falfe Dice, Jades, Cowards, and 
 plaguy Summers, 
 Good Lord deliver me ! [Exit Elder I.ovelefs. 
 
 Lady. But hark you. Servant, haik ye : Is he gone ? 
 Call him again. 
 
 Abig. Hang him. Paddock. 
 
 Lady. Art thou here ftill ^. Fly, fly, and call my Ser- 
 vant; fly, or never fee me more. 
 
 jdbig. I had rather knit again than fee that Rafcal, but 
 I muft do it. [Exit Abigail. 
 
 Lady. I would be loth to anger him too much j 
 What a fine Foolery is this in a Woman, 
 To ufe thofe Men moft frowardly they love mofl: ? 
 If I fhoyld lofe him thus, I were rightly ferv'd. 
 I hope, he's not fo much himfelf, to take it 
 To th' Heart : How now ? Will he come back ? 
 
 Enter Abigail. 
 
 Abig. Never, he fwears, while he can hear Men fay 
 there's any Woman living : He fwore he would ha* me 
 lirft. 
 
 Lady. Didft thou intreat him. Wench? 
 
 Abig. As well as I cou'd. Madam. 
 But this is ftill your way, to love being abfent. 
 And when he's with you, laugh at him and abufe him. 
 There is another way, if you could hit on't. 
 
 (35) father contraB my Youth to drink and facerdote 
 
 Upon ^arrels,'\ The Metre here is quite difconcerted; and, 
 befides, this feeming priefily Word facerdote^ I am afraid, is not to 
 be found in any of cur Didlionarics. I doubt not but our Poets 
 wrote ; 
 
 Rather contrail tnv Touth to drink, and fvvagger, 
 
 Doat upon i^luarreh, 
 
 £t>, again, in the Mad Lo've^i 
 
 — — — 7o fight and fwagger, 
 
 Btat<n fibout the Ears, Jtc Mt. Sympfon. 
 
 Lady. 
 
The Scornfull Lady. 343 
 
 Lady. Thou fay'fl true, get me Paper, Pen and Ink, 
 I'll write to him ; I'd be lotii, he fhould fleep in's Anger. 
 Women arc moft Fools when they think they're wifeil. 
 
 [^Exeunt. 
 
 Mujick. Enter Young Lovelefs, and Widow ; with 
 them his Comrades. 
 
 Wid. Pray, Sir, cafl: off thefe Fellows, as unfitting 
 For your bare Knowledge, and far more your Company : 
 Is't ht fuch Ragamuffins as thefe are. 
 Should bear tlie Name of Friends, and furnifli out 
 A civil Floufe ? You're to be married now, and Men, that 
 love you, 
 
 Muft expedl a Courle far from your old Career : 
 If you will keep 'em, turn 'em to th' Stable, and 
 There make *em Grooms : And yet now I confider it, 
 Such Beggars once let o' Florfe-back, you have heard. 
 Will ride, how far you had belt to look. 
 
 Capt. Hear you, you 
 That muft be Lady, pray content yourfelf 
 And think upon your Carriage foon at Night, 
 What Dreffing will beft take your Knight, what Waftcoat, 
 What Cordial will do well i'th' Morning for him, 
 What Triers have you ? 
 
 TVid. What do you mean, Sir ? 
 
 Capt. Thofe that muft fwitch him up : If he ftart well. 
 Fear not, but cry, Saint George^ and bear him hard : 
 When you perceive his Wind grows hot and wanting. 
 Let him a little down, he's fleet, ne'er doubt him, r- 
 And ftands found. 
 
 Wid. Sir, you hear thefe Fellows ? 
 
 To. Love. Merry Companions, Wench, merry Com- 
 panions. 
 
 IVid. To one another let 'em be Companions, 
 But, good Sir, not to you : You fhall be civil. 
 And flip off thefe bafe Trappings. 
 
 Capt. He Ihall not need, my moft fweet Lady Grocer ; 
 if he be civil, not your powder'd Sugar, nor your Raifins 
 fhall perfuade the Captain to live a Coxcomb with him; 
 let him be civil and cat i'th' Arches^ and fee what will 
 come on't. Z 4 Poet, 
 
344 ^^ Scornfull Lady. 
 
 Poet. Let him be civU, do : Undo him ; ay, that's 
 the next way. I will not take, if he be civil once, two 
 hundred Pounds a Year to live with him : Be civil? There's 
 a trim Perfuafion. 
 
 Capt. If thou be'ft civil. Knight ; as Jove defend it! 
 Get thee another Nofe, that wUl be pull'd 
 Off by the angry Boys for thy Converfion : 
 The Children thou fhalt get on this Civilian 
 Cannot inherit by the Law, they're Ethnicks, 
 And all thy Sport meer moral Leachery : 
 When they are grown, having but little in *em, 
 They may prove Haberdafhers, or grofs Grocers, 
 Like their dear Dam there : Prithee be civil, Knight, 
 In time thou may 'ft read to thy Houfehold, and be drunk 
 once a Year : This would fhew finely. 
 
 To. Love. I wonder. Sweetheart, you will offer this. 
 You do not underftand thcfe Gentlemen : 
 I will be Ihort and pithy : I had rather 
 Caft you off by the way of Charge : Thefe are Creatures, 
 That nothing goes to the Maintenance of 
 But Corn and Water.' I will keep thelc Fellows 
 Juft in the Competency of two Hens. 
 
 Wid. If you can caft it fo. Sir, you have my Liking : 
 If they eat lefs, I ftiould not be offended : 
 But how thefe. Sir, can live upon fo little 
 As Corn and Water, I am unbelieving. 
 
 To. Love. Why, prithee. Sweetheart, what's your Ale? 
 Is not 
 That Corn and Water, my fweet Widow ? M^id. Ay, 
 But my fweet Knight, where is the Meat to this, 
 And Cloaths that they muft look for ? 
 
 To. ho've. In this fhort Sentence Ale, is all included : 
 Meat, Drink, and Cloth : Thefe are no ravening Foot- 
 No Fellows, that at Ordinaries dare [men. 
 Eat their eighteen Pence thrice out before they rife. 
 And yet go hungry to a Play, and crack 
 More Nuts than would fuffice a dozen Squirrels ; 
 Befides the Din, which is moft damnable : 
 I had rather rail, and be confin'd to a Boat-maker, 
 Than live among fuch Rafcals i thefe are People 
 
 Of 
 
The Scornfull Lady, 34^ 
 
 Of fiich a clean Difcretion in their Diet, 
 Of fuch a moderate Sullenance, that they fweat 
 If they but fmcll hot Meat. Porridge is Poilbn, 
 They hate a Kitchen as they hate a Counter, 
 And, fhew *em but a Feather-bed, they fwoon. 
 Ale is their eating, and their drinking, furely. 
 Which keeps their Bodies clear, andfoluble. 
 Bread is a binder, and for that abolifliM 
 Even in their Ale, whofe loft Room fills an Apple, 
 Which is more airy and of fubtler Nature. 
 The Reft they take is little, and that little 
 Is little eafy : For, like ftrid Men of Order, 
 They do correal their Bodies with a Bench, 
 Or a poor ftubborn Table ; if a Chimney 
 Offer itfelf with fome few broken Rufhes, 
 They are in Down : When they are fick, that's drunk. 
 They may have frelh Straw, elfe they do defpife 
 Thefe worldly Pampcrings. For their poor Apparel, 
 'Tis worn out to the Diet; new they feek none; 
 And if a Man (hould offer, they are angry. 
 Scarce to be reconcil'd again with him : 
 You ftiall not hear 'em ask one a caft Doublet 
 Once in a Year, which is a Modefty 
 Befitting my poor Friends : You fee their Wardrobe, 
 Though (lender, competent : For Shirts, I take it. 
 They are Things worn out of their Remembrance. 
 Loufy they will be when they lift, and mangy. 
 Which fhows a fine Variety : And then to cure 'em, 
 A Tanner's Limepit, which is little Charge, 
 Two Dogs, and thefe too, may be cur'd for three Pence. 
 Wid. You have half perfuaded me ; pray, ufe your 
 Pleafure : 
 And, my good Friends, fince I do know your Diet, 
 Til take an Order, Meat fliall not offend you, 
 (36) You ftiall have Ale. 
 
 (36) — Tou Jhall hai'e Air. 
 
 We ask no more. It it be, mighty Lady^ Let it be, what ? 
 and why, mighty Lady ? The falfe Collocation of a poor Comma 
 has begot this Nonfenfe. The Captain would lay, If wc Ihall have 
 Ale, let it be mighty, Lady ; llrorig. Hinging Gcer 
 
 Capt, 
 
346 ^e Scornfull Lady. 
 
 Capt. We ask no more, let it be mighty. Lady : 
 And if we perilh, then our own Sins on us. 
 
 To. Love. Come forward, Gentlemen ; to Church, my 
 Boys; when we have done. Til give you Cheer in Bowls. 
 
 [Exeunt, 
 
 ACTV. SCENE!. 
 
 Enter Elder Lovelefs. 
 
 El. Z.(5^?.nPHis fcnfclefs Woman vexes me to th' Heart, 
 ■*• She will not from my Memory ; 'wou'd, 
 fhe wer£ 
 A Man for one two Hours, that I might beat her : 
 If I had been unhandfome, old or jealous, 
 'T had been an even Lay Ihc might have fcorn*d me ; 
 But to be young, and, by this Light, I thinlc 
 As proper as the proudeft ; made as clean. 
 As ftraight, and ftrong-back'd ; Means and Manners equal 
 With the beft Cloth of Silver Sir i'th* Kingdom : 
 But thefe are Things, at fome time of the Moon, 
 Below the Cut of Canvas : Sure, flie has 
 Some meeching Rafcal in her'Houfe, fome Hind, 
 That Ihe hath feen bear, like another Miloy 
 Quarters of Malt upon his Back, and fmg with't -, 
 Threlh all Day, and i'th' Evening, in his Stockings, 
 Strike up a Hornpipe, and there ftink two Hours, 
 And ne'er a whit the worfe Man •, thefe are they, 
 Thefe Steel-chin'd Rafcals, that undo us all. 
 'Wou'd, I had been a Carter, or a Coachman, 
 I had done the Deed e'er this Time. 
 
 Enter Servant. 
 Ser. Sir, there's a Gentleman without would fpeak 
 ^th you. 
 
 EL Love. Bid him come in. 
 
 Enter Welford. 
 
 WeL By your Leave, Sir. 
 
 El. Love. 
 
Hje Scoynfull Lady, 34^ 
 
 El. Love. You are welcome : What's your Will, Sir ? 
 
 JVel. Have you forgotten me ? 
 
 El. Love. I do not much remember you. 
 
 H^el. You muft, Sir. I am that Gentleman you pleas'd 
 to wrong, 
 In your Difguifc, I have inquired you out. 
 
 El. Love. I was difguis'd, indeed. Sir, if I wrong'd 
 you ; pray, where and when ? 
 
 IVel. In fuch a Lady's Houfe, 
 I need not name her. El. Love. I do remember you. 
 You feem'd to be a Suitor to that Lady ? 
 
 fVel^ If you remember this, do not forget 
 How fcurvily you ufed me : That was 
 No Place to quarrel in, pray you, think of it ; 
 If you be honeft you dare hght with me. 
 Without more urging, elfe I muft provoke ye. 
 
 El. Love. Sir, I dare fight, but never for a Woman, 
 I will not have her in my Caufe, flie's mortal. 
 And fo is not my Anger : If you have brought 
 A nobler Subjefl for our Swords, I am for you ; 
 In this I would be loth to prick my Finger. 
 And, where, you fay, I wrong'd you, 'tis fo far 
 From my ProfcfTion, that amongfi my Fears, 
 To do Wrong is the grcateft : Credit me, 
 We have been both abus'd, (not by ourfclves. 
 For that I hold a Spleen no Sin of Malice, 
 And may with Man enough be beft forgotten,) 
 But by that wilful, fcornfuU Piece of Hatred, 
 That much forgetfull Lady : For whofe fake. 
 If we fhould leave our Reafon, and run on 
 Upon our Senfe, hke Rams, the little World 
 Of good Men would laugh at us, and defpife us, 
 Fixing upon our defperate Memories 
 The never worn-out Names of Fools and Fencers. 
 Sir, 'tis not Fear, but Reafon, makes me tell you ; 
 In This I had rather help you. Sir, than hurt you. 
 And you fhall find it, though you throw yourfelf 
 Into as many Dangers as fhe olfers. 
 Though you redeem her loft Name every Day, 
 And find her out new Honours with y.ji.r Sword, 
 
 You 
 
34^ 5^^ Scornfull Lady. 
 
 You fhall but be her Mirth, as I have been. 
 
 JVel. I ask you Mercy, Sir, you have ta'en my Edge 
 Yet I would fain be even with this Lady. [off: 
 
 El. hove. In which I'll be your Helper : We are two, 
 And they are two : Two Sifters, rich alike. 
 Only the Elder has the prouder Dowry : 
 In Troth, I pity this Difgrace in you, 
 Yet of mine own I am fenfelefs : Do but follow 
 My Counfel, and I'll, pawn my Spirit, we'll 
 Over-reach *em yet j the Means is this ■ 
 
 Enter Servant. ~ 
 
 Ser. Sir, there's a Gentlewoman \nll needs ipeak with 
 you, 
 I cannot keep her out, fhe's entred. Sir. 
 
 El. Love. It is the Waiting- v/oman, pray be not feen : 
 Sirrah, hold her in Difcourfe a while : Hark in your Ear, 
 Go and dilpatch it quickly, when I come in, 
 I'll tell you all the Projeft. 
 
 IVel. I care not which I have. \Exlt Wei. 
 
 El. hove. Away, 'tis done, Hie muft not fee you; 
 Lady Guiniver^ what News with you ? [Now, 
 
 Enter Abigail. 
 
 Ahig. Pray, leave thefe Frumps, Sir, and receive this 
 Letter. 
 
 El. hove. From whom, good Vanity ^ 
 
 Abig. 'Tis from my Lady, Sir : Alas, good Soul, fhc 
 cries and takes on ! 
 
 El. hove. Does Ihe fo, good Soul? wou*d fhe not 
 have a Cawdle .'' Does (he fend you with your fine Ora- 
 tory, Goody Tully^ to tie me to believe again ? Bring 
 out the Cat-hounds, I'll make you take a Tree, Whore, 
 (37) then with my Tiller bring down your Gibjhip^ and 
 then have you cas'd, and hung up i'th' Warren. 
 
 Abig. I am no Beaft, Sir, would you knew it. 
 
 (37) then fvoith my Tiller bring donun your Gibfhip, and then have 
 jou cajly &C.J I have already explain'd the Word tiller in the zzd 
 Note upon Philafier t Cafi, Mr. Symp/on has ingenioufly reform'd to 
 Cafed; i. e, pad^ and hung up. 
 
 El, hove. 
 
72^ Scornfull Lady. 349 
 
 El. ho^e. 'Wou*d, I did, for I am yet very doubtful] ; 
 what will you fay now ? 
 
 Ahig. Nothing, not I. 
 
 El. Love. Art thou a Woman, and fay nothing ? 
 
 Abig. Unlefs you'll hear me with more Moderation, I 
 can fpeak wife enough. 
 
 El. Love. And loud enough ? Will your Lady love me? 
 
 Abig. It feems fo by her Letter, and her Lamenta- 
 tions •, but you are fuch another Man. 
 
 El. Love. Not fuch another as I was, Mumps ; nor will 
 not be: I'll read her fine Epiftle: Ha, ha, ha, is not thy 
 Miflrefs mad .? 
 
 Abig. For you ihe will be, 'tis a Shame you Ihou'd 
 Ufe a poor Gentlewoman fo untowardly -, 
 She loves the Ground you tread on ; and you, hard Heart, 
 Becaufe Ihejeafled with you, mean to kill her; 
 'Tis a fine Conqueft, as they lay. 
 
 El. Love. Haft thou fo much Moifture 
 In thy Whit-leather Hide yet, that thou canft cry ? 
 I wou'd have fwom thou hadft been Touchwood five 
 
 Year fince ; 
 Nay, let it rain, thy Face chops for a Shower 
 Like a dry Dunghil. 
 
 Abig. I'll not endure this Ribauldry -, 
 Farewel, i'th' Devil's Name ; if my Lady die, 
 rU be fwom before a Jury, thou art the Caufe on't. 
 
 El. Love. Do, Maukin, do, 
 Dehver to your Lady from me this : 
 I mean to fee her, if I have no other Bufinefs ; 
 Which before I will w^ant to come to her, 
 I mean to go feek Birds' Nefts : Yet I may come too : 
 But if I come, from this Door 'till I fee her, will 1 think 
 How to rail vilely at her ; how to vex her. 
 And make her cry fo much, (38) that the Phyfician, 
 
 (38) that the Phyjician, if Jhe fall fick upon" t JJ:)all find the Caufe to 
 he Want of Urine,] This is not altogether bsd Senle; but it is not 
 quite perfpicuous. I have chofe to adopt the Reading of the elder 
 ^arto, as I think it the clearell ; and as Phyficians are ufed to 
 trace the Caufe and Symptoms of Maladies by the Infpedtion of the 
 Urine. 
 
 If 
 
350 The Scornful! Lady, 
 
 If Ihe fall fick upon it, Ihall want Urine 
 To find the Caufe by, and fhe remedilefs 
 Die in her Herefy. Farewel, old Adage, 
 I hope to fee the Boys make Potguns of thee. 
 
 Jlbig. Thou'rt a vile Man ; God blefs my IfTue from thee, 
 EL Love. Thou haft but one, and tliat*s in thy left 
 Crupper, 
 That makes thee hobble fo ; you muft be ground 
 I'th' Breech like a Top, you'll ne'er fpin well clfe : 
 Farewel, Fytchock. [^Exeunt, 
 
 Enter Lady alone. 
 
 Lady. Is it not ftrange that every Woman's Will 
 Shou'd track out new Ways to difturb herielf ? 
 If I fhould call my Realbn to Account, 
 It cannot anfwer why I keep myfelf 
 From mine own Willi, and ftop the Man I love 
 From his ; and every Hour repent again. 
 Yet ftill go on : I know 'tis like a Man 
 That wants his natural Sleep, and growing dull 
 Would gladly give the Remnant of his Life 
 For two Hours Reft; yet through his Frowardnels, 
 Will rather chufe to watch another Man, 
 Drowfy as he, then take his own Repofe. 
 All this I know : Yet a ftrange Peeviftinefs 
 And Anger, not to have the Power to do 
 Things unexpected, carries me away 
 To mine own Ruin : I had rather die 
 Sometimes, than not difgrace in publick him- 
 Whom People think I love, and do't with Oaths, 
 And am in Eamcft dien : O what are we ! 
 Men, you muft anfwer tliis, that dare obey 
 Such Things as we command. How now ^ What News ? 
 
 En4er Abigail. 
 
 Ahig. Faitli, Madam, none worth Hearing, 
 Lady. Is he not come ? 
 Ahig. No, truly. 
 Lady. Nor has he writ ? 
 
 Abig. Neither. I pray God you have not undone 
 yourfelf. Abig. 
 
The Scornftdl Lady. 351 
 
 Lady. "Why, but what fays he ? 
 
 Abig. Faith, he talks ftrangely. 
 
 Lady. How ftrangely ? 
 
 Ahig. Firft, at your Letter he laugh'd extremely. 
 
 Lady. What, in Contempt ? 
 
 Abig. He laugh'd monftrous loud, as he would die, 
 and when you wrote it, I think, you were in no fuch merry 
 Mood, to provoke him that way : And having done, he 
 cried, Alas for her, and violently laugh'd again. 
 
 Lady. Did he? 
 
 Abig. Yes ; till I was angry. 
 
 Lady. Angry, why? 
 Why wert thou angry ? He did do but well, 
 I did deferve it ; he had been a Fool, 
 An unfit Man for any one to love. 
 Had he not laugh'd thus at me : You were angry, 
 That (how'd your Folly -, I fhall love him more 
 For that, tlian all that e*er he did before : 
 But faid he nothing elfe ? 
 • Abig. Many uncertain Things: He faid, though you had 
 
 mock'd him, 
 Becaufe you were a Woman, he cou'd wifli 
 To do you fo much Favour as to fee you : 
 Yet he faid, he knew you rafh, and was loth to offend 
 you with the Sight of One, whom now he was bound not 
 to leave. 
 
 Lady. What One was that ? 
 
 Abig. I know not, but truly I do fear there is a making 
 up there : For I heard the Servants, as I paft by fome, 
 whifper fuch a thing : And as I came back thro' the Hall, 
 there were two or three Clerks writing great Convey- 
 ances in hafte, which they faid were for their Miftrefs's. 
 Jointure. 
 
 La(fy. 'Tis very like, and fit it fhould be fo. 
 For he does think, and rcafonably think. 
 That I fliou'd keep him with my idle Tricks 
 For ever e'er he be married. Abig. At lafl he faid. 
 It fhould go hard but he would fee you for 
 Your Satisfadtion. 
 
 Lady. All we, that are call'd Women, know as well 
 
 As 
 
352 The Sco7'nfull Lady, 
 
 As Men, it were a far more noble Thing 
 To grace where we are grac'd, and give^Refped 
 There where we are refpefted : Yet we pradlife 
 A wilder Courfe, and never bend our Eyes 
 On Men with Pleafure, till they find the Way 
 To give us a Negleft : Then we, too late. 
 Perceive the Lofs of what we might have had. 
 And doat x,o Death. 
 
 Enter Martha. 
 
 Mar. Sifter, yonder's your Servant, with a Gentle- 
 woman with him. 
 
 Lady. Where? • 
 
 Mar, Clofe at the Door. 
 
 hady. Alas, I am undone j I fear, he is betroth*d ; 
 What kind of Woman is ihe ? 
 
 Mar. A moft ill-favoured one, with her Mask on : 
 And how her Face fhould mend the reft, I know not. 
 
 Lady. But yet her Mind was of a milder Stuff 
 Than mine was. 
 
 Eyiter Elder Lovclefs, and Wtlford in Womtf^s 
 Apparel, 
 
 Now I fee him, if my Heart 
 Swell not again (away, thou Woman's Pride) 
 So that I cannot fpeak a gentle Word to him. 
 Let me not live. 
 
 El. Love. By your Leave here. 
 
 Lady. How now, what new Trick invites you hither ? 
 Ha* you a fine Device again ^ 
 
 El. Love. Faith, this is the fineft Device I have now : 
 How doft thou, fweet Heart ? 
 
 IVel. Why, very well, ^o long as I may pleafe 
 You my dear Lover. I nor can, nor will 
 Be ill when you are well, well when you are ill. 
 
 El. Love. O thy Iwect Temper! What would I have 
 That Lady had been like thee ! See'ft thou her ? [giv*n. 
 That Face, my Love, join*d with thy humble Mind, 
 Had made a Wench indeed. Wei. Alas, my Love, 
 What God hath done, I dare not think to mend. 
 
 lufe 
 
The Scornfull Lady, 353- 
 
 I ufe no Paint, nor any Drugs of Art, 
 My Hands and Face will fhew it. 
 
 Lady. Why, what Thing 
 Have you brought to (hew us there? 
 Do you take Money for it ? El. Love. A Godlike Thing," 
 Not to be bought for Money : 'tis my Miftrefs : 
 In whom there is no PafTion, nor no Scorn : 
 "What I will is her Law ; pray you, falute her; 
 
 Lady, Salute her? By this good Light, I would not 
 kifs her for half my Wealth. 
 
 El. Love. Why? Why pray you? 
 You fhall fee me do't afore you •, look you. 
 
 Lady. Now fie upon thee, a Beaft would not have don't. 
 I would not kifs thee of. a Month to gain a Kingdom. 
 
 El. Love. Marry, you fhall not be troubled. 
 
 Lady. Why, was there ever fuch a Meg as this ? 
 Sure, thou art mad. 
 
 El. Love. I was mad once, when I lov'd Pidlures ; for 
 what are Shape and Colours elfe, but Pidlures ? In that 
 tawny Hide there hes an endlefs Mafs of Virtues, when 
 all your red and white ones want it. 
 
 Lady. And this is fhe you are to marry, is't not ? 
 
 El. Love. Yes, indeed, is't. 
 
 Lady. God give you Joy. 
 
 El. Love. Amen. 
 
 Wei. I thank you, as unknown, for your good Wiflti' 
 The like to you whenever you fhall wed. 
 
 El: Love. O gentle Spirit ! 
 
 Lady. You thank me ? I pray. 
 Keep your Breath nearer you, 1 do not like it. 
 
 IVel. I would not willingly offend at all. 
 Much lefs a Lady of your worthy Parts. 
 
 El. Love. Sweet, fweet! 
 
 Lady. I do not think this Woman can by Nature 
 Be thus, thus ugly; fure, fhe' s fome common Strumpet, 
 Deform'd with Hxercife of Sin : Wei. O, Sir, 
 Believe not tliis ; for Heav'n fo comfort me, 
 As I am free from foul Pollution 
 With any Man ; my Honour ta*en away, 
 I am no Woman. EL Love. Arife, mv dearell Soul ; 
 
 V o L. I. A a * I do 
 
354 ^^ Scomfull Lady, 
 
 I do not credit it. Alas, I fear. 
 
 Her tender Heart will break with tMs Reproach ; 
 
 Fie, that you know no more Civility 
 
 To a weak Virgin. *Tis no matter, Sweet ; 
 
 Let her fay what fhe will, thou art not worfe 
 
 To me, and therefore not at all \ be carelefs. 
 
 Wei. For all things elfe I would, but for mine Honour 5 
 Methinks. — El. Love. Alas, thine Honour is not ftain'd. 
 Is this the Bufinefs that you fent for me 
 About ? Mar. Faith, Sifter, you are much to blame, 
 To ufe a Woman, whatfoe'er fhe be, 
 Thus ; I'll falute her : You are welcome hitlier. 
 
 Wei. I humbly thank you. 
 
 El. Love. Mild yet as the Dove, 
 For all thefe Injuries. Come, fhall we go, 
 I" love thee not fo ill to keep thee here 
 A jeafting Stock. Adieu, to the World's End. 
 
 Lady. Why, whither now } 
 
 El. Love. Nay, you fhall never know, 
 Becaufe you fhall not find me. Lady. 1 pray, let 
 Me fpeak with you. 
 
 El. Love. *Tis very well : Come. 
 
 Lady. I pray you, let me fpeak with you. 
 
 El. Love. Yes, for another Mock. 
 
 Lady. By Heav'n, I have no Mocks: Good Sir, a 
 Word. 
 
 El. Love. Tho' you defervc not fb much at my Hands, 
 yet if you be in fuch Earneft, I'll fpeak a Word with you ; 
 but I befeech you be brief: For, in good Faith, there's a 
 Parfon and a Licence ftay for us i'th' Church ail this while : 
 And, you know, 'tis Night. 
 
 Lady. Sir, give me Hearmg patiently, and whatfoevcr 
 I have heretofore fpoke jeaftingly, forget : 
 For as I hope for Mercy any where. 
 What I fhall utter now is from my Heart, and as I mean. 
 
 El. Love. Well, well, what do you mean ? 
 
 Lady. Was^ not I once your Miftrefs, and you my 
 Servant ? 
 
 El. Love. O, 'tis about the old Matter. 
 
 Lady, Nay, good Sir, flay 
 
 Mc 
 
72^ Scornfull Lady, 355 
 
 Me out ; I wou*d but hear you excule yourfelf ; 
 Why you fliould take this Woman, and icdvt me. 
 
 El. Loze. Prithee, why not? dcfcrves ihe not as much 
 As you ? Lady. I think not, if you will but look 
 With an Indifferency upon us both. 
 
 El. Love. Upon your Faces, *tis true : But if judi- 
 cioufly we ihall caft our Eyes upon your Minds, (39) you 
 are a thoufand Women off her in Worth. She cannot 
 fwoon in Jeaft, nor fet her Lover Tasks, to fhew her 
 Peevifhnefs, and his AffeAion, nor crofs what he fays, 
 though it be not Canonical. She's a good plain Wench, 
 that will do as I will have her, and bring me lufty Boys to 
 throw the Sledge, and lift at Pigs of Lead. And, for a 
 Wife, file's far beyond you. What can you do in a 
 Houfehold to provide for your Iflue, but lie i' Bed and 
 get *em .^ Your Bufinefs is to drefs you, and at idle Hours 
 to eat i when ilie can do a thoufand profitable Things : 
 She can do pretty well in the Paftrv, and knows how Pul- 
 len fhould be cram'd, (he cuts Cambrick at a Thread, 
 weaves Bone-lacc, and quilts Balls admirably. And what 
 are you good for ^ 
 
 Lady. Admit it true, that flie were far beyond me in 
 all Refpedls, does that give you a Licence to forfwear 
 yourfelf.'' 
 
 El. Love. Forfwear mvlelf, how ? 
 
 Lady. Perhaps, you have forgotten the innumerable 
 Oaths you have utter'd in difclaiming all for Wives but 
 me : Pll not remember you : God give you Joy. 
 
 El. Love. Nay, but conceive me, the Intent of Oaths is 
 ever underftood. Admit, I fhou'd proteft to fuch a Friend, 
 to fee him at his Lodging to Morrow : Divines wou'd ne- 
 ver hold me perjur'd if I were ftruck blind, or he hid 
 where my diligent Search could not find him : So there 
 were no crofs Adl of mine own in't. Can it be imagin'd I 
 mean to force you to Marriage, and to have you whether 
 you will or no ? 
 
 (39) you are a thoufand Women of her in Worth ] Lo'velefs had no 
 Intenrion of making his Lady any fuch Compliin'"it 1 am pretty 
 well fa'jsf.ed, I have retriev'd the true Reading; oj' her in Worth, 
 is, behind her, inferior to her. 
 
 A a 2 Lad;f, 
 
35^ ^^ Scornftdl "Lady, 
 
 Lady. Alas, you need not. I make a ready Tender of 
 myfclt, and then you are forfvvorn. 
 
 El L eve. Some Sin I fee indeed muft necefiarily 
 Fall upon me, as whofoever deals 
 With Women Ihall never utterly avoid it : 
 Yet I wou'd chufe the leaft 111 ; which is to 
 Fcrlake you, that have done me all the Abufes 
 Of a malignant Woman, contemn'd my Service, 
 And would have held me prating about Marriage, 
 'I'ill I'd been pad getting of Children : Radier 
 Than her that hath forfaken her Family, 
 And put her tender Body in my Hand, 
 U] on my Word 
 
 hady. Which of us fwore you firft to ? 
 
 El. Lcue. Why, to you. 
 
 Lady. Which Oath is to be kept then ? 
 
 El. Love. I prithee, do not urge my Sins unto me, 
 Without I cou'd amend 'em. Lady. Why, you may 
 By wedding me. El. Love. How will that fatisfy 
 My Word to her.-* Lady. 'Tis not to be kept, 
 And needs no Satisfaction, it is an Error 
 Fit for Repentance only. El. Love. Shall I live 
 To wrong that tender-hearted Virgin fo ^ 
 It may not be. 
 
 Lady. Why, may it not be ? 
 
 El. Love. I fwear, I had rather marry thee than her: 
 But yet mine Flonefty— Lady. What Honefty ? 
 'Tis more preferv'd this way: Come, by this Light, 
 Servant, thou fhalt, I'll kifs thee on't. 
 
 El. Love. This Kifs, 
 Indeed, is fweet; pray God, no Sin lie under it! 
 
 Lady. There is no Sin at all, try but another. 
 
 JVei. O my Heart ! 
 
 Mar. Help, Sifter, this Lady fwoons. 
 
 El. Love. How do you ? 
 
 IFel. Why, very well, if you be fo. 
 
 El. Love. Since a quiet Mind lives not in any Woman, 
 I fhall do a moft ungodly Thing. 
 Hear me one Word more, which by alljr.y Flopes 
 I will not alter. I did make an Oath 
 
 When 
 
The ScornfuU Lady. 357 
 
 When you delay'd me fo, that tliis very Night 
 I wou'd be marryM ; now if you will go 
 Without Delay, fuddcnly, as late as it is. 
 With your own Minifter to your own Chappel, 
 I'll wed you, and to Bed. 
 
 Lady. A Match, dear Servant. 
 
 El Love. For if you (hou'd forfake me now, I care not. 
 She wou'd not though for all her Injuries, 
 Such is her Spirit. If I be not afham'd 
 To kifs her now I pait, may I not live! 
 
 f-rel. I fee you go, as fiily as you think 
 To Ileal away : yet I will pray for you : 
 All BlelTings of the World light on you two. 
 That you may live to be an aged Pair ! 
 All Curfcs on me if I do not fpeak 
 Whatldowifh, indeed! El. Love. If I can fpeak 
 To purpofe to her, I am a Villain. 
 Lady. Servant, away. 
 
 Mar. Sifter, will you marry that inconftant Man ? 
 Think you, he will not caft you off to Morrow, 
 To wrong a Lady thus ? look*d fhe like Dirt, 
 'Twas bafely done. May you ne'er profper with him ! 
 fVel. Now God forbid ! Alas, I was unworthy, fo I 
 
 told him. 
 Mar. That was your Modefty, too good for him. 
 I wou'd not fee your Wedding for a World. 
 Lady. Chufe, chufe; come, Tounglove. 
 
 {Exit Lady, El. Love, and Abig. 
 Mar. Dry up your Eyes, forfooth, you fhall not think 
 we are all fuch uncivil Beafts as thefe. Wou'd I knew 
 how to give you a Revenge. 
 
 JVel. So would not I : No, let me fuffer truly, that I 
 defire. 
 
 Mar. Pray walk in with me, *tis very late, and yoq 
 fhall flay all Night \ Your Bed fhall be no worfe than 
 mine J I wifh I cou'd but do you Right. 
 
 fVel. My humble Thanks : 
 God grant, I may but live to quit your Love ! \^Exeunt. 
 
 A a 3 Enter 
 
3S^ ^^ Scornfull Lady, 
 
 Enter Toung Lovelefs ajtd Savil. 
 
 2^0. Love. Did your Mafter fend for me, Savil? 
 Sav. Yes, he did fend for your Worfhip, Sir. 
 To. Love. Do you know the Bufinefs ? 
 Sav. Alas, Sir, 1 know nothing, 
 Nor am employ'd beyond my tiours of eating. 
 My dancing Days are done. Sir. 
 To. Love. What art thou .now then ? 
 Sav. If you confider me in Little, I 
 Am, with your Worfhip's Reverence, Sir, a Rafcal : 
 One that upon the next Anger of your Brother, 
 Mufl raife a Sconce by the Highway and fell Switches ; 
 My W ife is learning now. Sir, to weave Inkle. 
 
 To. Love. What doll thou mean to do with thy Chil- 
 dren, Savil? 
 
 Sav. My eldeft Boy is half a Rogue already. 
 He was born burften, and, your Worihip knows. 
 That is a pretty Step to Mens' Companions. 
 My youngelt Boy 1 purpofe. Sir, to bind 
 For ten Years to a Coaler, to draw under him, 
 That he may fhew us Mercy in his Fundlion. 
 
 To. Love. Your Family is quarter*d with Difcretion. 
 You are refolv'd to cant then. Where, Savil^ 
 Shall your Scene lie ? 
 
 Sav. Beggars mufl be no Chufers, 
 In every Place, I take it, but the Stocks. [Savil^ 
 
 To. Love. This is your Drinking and your Whoring, 
 I told you of it, but your Fleart was harden 'd. 
 
 Sav. 'T'is true, you were the firfl that told me of it: 
 I do remember yet in Tears, you told me 
 You wou*d have Whores, and in that Paflion, Sir, 
 You broke out thus : Thou miferable Man, 
 Repent, and brew three Strikes more in a Hogfhead. 
 'Tis Noon e'er we be drunk now, and the Time 
 Can tarry for no Man. 
 
 To. Love. You're grown a bitter Gentleman. I fee, 
 Mifcry can clear your Head better than Mullard, 
 I'll be a Suitor for your Keys again. Sir. 
 
 Sav. Will you but be fo gracious to me. Sir .'* 
 
 I fhaJ/ 
 
 I 
 
7^^ Scornfull Lady. 359 
 
 I fliall be bound. 
 
 l^o. I ove. You fhall, Sir, 
 To your Bunch again, or I'll iruis foully. 
 
 Eiiter Morecraft. 
 
 Mor. Save you. Gentleman, lave you. 
 
 To. Love. Now Polecat, what young Rabbet's Ned have 
 you to draw ? 
 
 Mor. Come, prithee be familiar. Knight. 
 
 To. Love. K-^'2i^^ Fox, I'll fend for Terriers for you. 
 
 Mor. Thou art wide yet : I'll keep thee Company. 
 
 To. Lcve. I am about fome Bufinels, Indentures j 
 If you follow me, I'll beat you : take heed. 
 As I live I'll cancel your Coxcomb. 
 
 Mor Thou art cozen'd now, I am no Ufurer : 
 What poor Fellow's tliis .'* 
 
 Sav. I am poor, indeed. Sir, 
 
 Mor. Give him Money, Knight. 
 
 To. Love. Do you begin the Offering. 
 
 Mor. There, poor Fellow ; here's an Angel for thee. 
 
 To. Love. Art thou in Eameft, Morecraft F 
 
 Mor. Yes, faith. Knight, I'll follow thy Example: 
 Thou had'ft Land and Thoufands, thou fpend'fl, and 
 fiung'ft away, and yet it flows in double : 
 I purchas'd, wrung, and wierdraw'd, for my Wealth, 
 Loft, and was cozen*d : For which I make a Vow, 
 To try all ways above Ground, but I'll find 
 A conftant Means to Riches without Curfes. 
 
 To. Love. I am glad of your Converfion, Mafter More- 
 
 You're in a fair Courfe, pray purfue it ftill. [craft: 
 
 Mor. Come, we are all Gallants now, 1*11 keep thee 
 
 Company •, Here, honeft Fellow, for this Gentleman's fake, 
 
 there's two Angels more for thee. 
 
 Sav. God quit you. Sir, and keep you long in this 
 Mind! 
 
 To. Love. Wilt thou perfevere? 
 Mor. 'Till I have a Penny. 
 I have brave Cloaths a making, and two Horfes ; 
 Canft thou not help me to a Match, good Knight ? I'll 
 lay a thoufand Pound upon my Crop-Ear, 
 
 A a 4 ■ To. Love, 
 
360 The Scornfull Lady, 
 
 To. Love. 'Foot, this is ftranger than an Africk Monfter j 
 There will be no more Talk of the Cleve Wars 
 While this laOs ; come, I'll put thee into Blood. 
 
 Sav. 'Wou'd, all his damn'dTribe were'as tender-hearted! 
 I befeech you let this Gentleman join with you 
 In the Recovery of my Keys ; I like 
 His good Beginning, Sir-, the whilft Til pray 
 For both your Worfliips. 
 
 To. Love. He fnall, Sir. 
 
 Mor. Shall we go, noble Knight } I wou*d fain be 
 acquainted. 
 
 yo. Love. I'll be your Servant, Sir. [Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Elder Loyelefs, and Lady. 
 
 El. Love. 'Faith, my fweet Lady, I have caught you 
 Maugre your Subtikies, and fine Devices, [now. 
 
 Be coy again now. 
 
 Lady. Prithee, Sweet-heart, tell true. 
 
 El. Lcve. By this Light, 
 By all the Pleafures I have had this Night, 
 By your loll Maidenhead, you are cozen'd merely. 
 I have caft beyond your "Wit. (40) That Gentlewoman 
 Is your Retainer Welford. Lady. It cannot be fo. 
 
 El. Love. Your Sifter has found it fo, or I miflake, 
 Mark, how fhe blufhes when you fee her next. 
 Ha, ha, ha, T fhall not travell now, Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 Lady. Prithee, Sweet-heart, 
 Be quiet, thou haft angred me at Heart, 
 
 El. Love. I'll pleafe you foon again. 
 
 Lady. Welford? 
 
 El. Love. Ay, Welford •, he's a young handfome Fel- 
 low, well-bred and landed, your Sifter can inftrud you in 
 his good Parts, better than I, by this time. 
 
 Lady. 'Ud's foot, am I fetch'd over thus ? 
 
 El. Love. Yes, T faith. 
 
 (40) That Gentleman is your Retainer ^7Ji:\^or^\ I think, the Poets 
 certainly wrote Gentk'-jcoman, 1 e. that feeming Gentlewoman ; for 
 Welford was now in Woman's Habit. And fo, again, in the fubfe- 
 quent Page. 
 
 l^Qvo you may fee the Gentlewoman : Stand clofe. 
 
 And 
 
Tloe Scornfull Lady,- 361 
 
 And over fhall be fetch' d again, never fear it. 
 
 Lady. I muft be patient, though it torture me : 
 You have got the Sun, Sir. 
 
 ' El. Love. And the Moon too, in which I'll be the 
 Man. 
 
 Lady. But had I known this, had I but furmis'd it. 
 You ihould have hunted three Trains more, before you 
 Had come to th' Courfe, you fhould have hank'd o'th' 
 Sir, r faith. [Bridle, 
 
 El. Love. I knew it, and min'd with you, and fo blew 
 you up. 
 Now you may fee the Gentlewoman : Stand clofe. 
 
 Enter Welford, and Martha. 
 
 Mar. For God's fake. Sir, be private in this Bufinefs, 
 You have undone me elfe. O God, what have I done ? 
 
 JVel. No harm, I warrant thee. 
 
 Mar. How fhall I look upon my Friends again .'* 
 With what Face ? 
 
 Wei. Why e'en with that : 'tis a good one. 
 Thou can'fh not find a better : Look upon all 
 The Faces thou (halt fee there, and you fhall find 'em 
 Smooth ftill, fair ftill, fweet ftill, and to your thinkmg, 
 Honeft ', thofe have done as much as you have yet. 
 Or dare do, Miltrefs, and yet they keep no ftir. 
 
 Mar. Good Sir, go in, and put your Womans Cloaths 
 If you be feen thus, I am loft for ever. [on : 
 
 JVel. I'll watch you for that, Miftrefs : I am no Fool, 
 Here will I tarry till the Houfe be up 
 And witnefs with me. 
 
 Mar. Good dear Friend, go in. 
 
 Wei. To Bed again if you pleafe, elfe I am fix*d 
 Here till there be Notice taken what I am. 
 And what I have done. If you could juggle me into my 
 Womanhood again, and fo cog me out of your Com- 
 pany, all this would be forfwom, and I again an Afinego^ 
 as your Sifter left me. No, I'll have it known and pub- 
 lifh'd; then if you'll be a Whore, forfake me and be 
 afham'd : And when you can hold no longer, marry fome 
 caft Ckve Captain, and fell Bottle-Ale. 
 
 Mar, 
 
262 7^^ Scornfull Lady, 
 
 Mar. I dare not (lay. Sir, ufe me modeftly, 
 I am your Wife. Wei. Go in, I'll make up all. 
 
 tl. Love. I'll be a Wimefs of your naked Truth, Sir. 
 This is the Gentlewoman, prithee look 
 Upon him, this is he that made me break my Faith,' 
 
 Sweet : 
 But thank your. Sifter, fhe hath folder'd it. 
 
 Lady, What a dull Afs was I, I could not fee 
 This Wencher from a Wench: Twenty to one. 
 If I had been but tender like my Sifter, 
 He had ferv'd me fuch a flippery Trick too. 
 
 pVel. Twenty to one I had. 
 
 EL Love. I wou'd have watch'd you. Sir, by your 
 good Patience, 
 For ferreting in my Ground. 
 
 Lady. You have been with my Sifter. 
 
 Wei. Yes, to bring, ■ 
 
 El Love. An Heir into the World, he means. 
 
 Lady There is no chafing now. 
 
 TFel I have had my Part on't : 
 I have been chaft this three Hours, that's the leaft, I am 
 reafonable cool now. ' ,\ 
 
 Lady. Cannot you fate well, but you muft cry ^ii^- 
 meat ? 
 
 IVel He that fares well, and will not blefs the Founders, 
 Is either furfeited, or ill taught. Lady -, 
 For mine own part, I have found fo fweet a Diet, 
 lean commend it, though I cannot fpare it. 
 
 EL Love. How like you this Dilh, IVelford., I madfe % 
 Supper on't, •/'.'*,' 
 
 And fed fo heartily I cou'd not fleep. 
 
 Lady. By this Light, had I but fcented out your Train, 
 ye had flept with a bare Pillow in your Arms ; and kifs'd 
 that, or elfe the Bed-poft, for any Wife ye had got tliis 
 Twelve-month yet : I would have vex'd you more than 
 a tyr'd Poft-horfe; and been longer bearing, than ever 
 after-game at IriJIo was. Lord, that I were unmarried 
 again. 
 
 EL love. Lady, I wou'd not undertake ye, were you 
 again a Haggard^ for the beft Caft of Ladies i'th' King- 
 dom : 
 
TTdb ScornfuU Lady, 363 
 
 dom : You were ever tickle-footed, and would not trufs 
 round. 
 
 fVel. Is fhe faft ? 
 
 El. Love. She was all Night lock'd here. Boy. 
 
 (41) IFel. Then you may lure her without fear of 
 lofing: Take oflf her Creyance. You have a delicate 
 Gentlewoman to your Sifter : Lord, what a pretty Fury 
 fhe was in, when flie perceived I was a Man: But I 
 thank God I fatisfied her Scruple, without the Parfon 
 o'th* Town. 
 
 El Love. What did ye ? 
 
 fVel. Madam, can you tell what we did ? 
 
 El. Love. She has a fhrewd Guefs at it, I iee it by her. 
 
 Lady. Well, you may mock us : But my large Gentle- 
 woman, 
 (4?) My Mary Amhree., had I but feen into you. 
 You fhould have had another Bed-fellow, 
 Fitter a great deal for your Itch. 
 ■ Wei. I thank you. Lady, methought it was wdl. 
 You are fo curious. 
 
 Enter Young Lovelefs, his Lady, Morecraft, Savil, 
 and two Servingmen. 
 
 El. Love. Get on your Doublet, here comes my Brother. 
 
 To. Love. Good-morrow, Brother, and ail Good to yoiir 
 Lady. 
 
 Mor. God fave you, and Good-morrow to you all ! 
 
 El. Love. Good-morrow. Here's a poor Brother of 
 yours. 
 
 (41) Then you may lurc her ivithout Fear of lojing. 
 
 Take off" her Cranes ] A Lure in Fauconry, is a Machine com- 
 pofed of Feathers and Leather ; which by being caft. up into the Air, 
 fcems in its Motion to look like a Fowl : Upon this, a young Hawk 
 is train'd up to be fed, has a live Dove given her ; and therefore 
 forfakes not the Lure. The Creyance is a fine fmall long Line of 
 ftrong, and even twin'd Packthread, which is fallcn'd to the Hawk's 
 Lcalli before fhe is reclaim'' d, or fally tamed. 
 
 (42) My Mary Ambrce] This was a Virago, who in the Begin- 
 ning of King James the Firli's Reign went a Volunteering in Men's 
 Cloaths. She is frequently mention'd by Ben. Jonson both in his 
 Ph'^yi and Epigrams. 
 
 Lady, 
 
364 T'^^ Scornful I Lady, 
 
 Lady. Fie, how this fliames me, 
 
 Mor. Prithe.-, good Fellow, help me to a Cup of Beer. 
 
 Ser. I will, Sir. 
 
 To, Love. Brother, what makes you here? Will this 
 Lady do? Will fhc? Is fiie not nettl'd ftill ? 
 
 El. Love. No, I have cur'd her. 
 Mr. Welford^ pray know this Gentleman, he is my 
 Brother. 
 
 IVel. Sir, I fhall long to love him,' 
 
 To, Love. I fhall not be your Debtor, Sir, But how 
 is't with you ? 
 
 El. Love. As well as may be, Man : I am married : 
 Your new Acquaintance hath her Sifter, and all's well. 
 - I'd. Love. I am glad on't. Now, my pretty Lady Sifter, 
 How do you find my Brother ? 
 
 Lady. Almoft as wild as you are. 
 
 To. Love. He will make the better Husband: You 
 have tried him ? 
 
 Lady. Againft my Will, Sir. ' • 
 
 To. Love. He'll make your Will Amends foon, do 
 not doubt it. 
 But, Sir, I muft intreat you to be better known 
 To this converted Jew here. 
 
 Ser. Here's Beer for you. Sir. 
 . (43) Mor. And here's for you an Angel : 
 Pray, buy no Land, 'twill never profper, Sir. 
 
 El. Love. How's this ? 
 , T'o. Love. Blefs you, and then I'll tell. He's turn'd 
 Gallant. 
 
 El. Love. Gallant ? 
 
 To. Love. Ay, Gallant, and is now called. Cutting 
 Morecraft ; 
 The Reafon I'll inform you at more Leifure. 
 
 Wei. O good Sir, let me know him prefently. 
 
 (43) Mor. Jnd here's for you an Angel i^ This fudden Converfion 
 of Morecraft, from a griping Ufurer 10 a downright Gallanr, is 
 quite extravagant and out of the Rules and Praftife of the Stage : 
 Efpecially, as there is no Shadow of Reafon for it ; unlefs he may be 
 faid to look upon the Lofs he had fuftain'd from Young Lo^oelefs to be 
 a Scourge and Judgment upon him for his former Rapacioufnefs. 
 
 To, Love, 
 
The Scornfull Lady. 365 
 
 To. Love. You fliall hug one another. 
 
 Mor. Sir, I mull keep you Company. 
 
 El. Love. And Reafon ■ 
 
 To. Love. Cutting Morecraft faces about, I mufl: pre- 
 fent another. 
 
 Mor. As many as you will, Sir, I am for 'em. 
 
 Wei. Sir, I fhall cio you Service. 
 
 Mor. I Ihall look for't, in good Faith, Sir. 
 
 El. Love. Prithee, good Sweetlieart, kifs him. 
 
 Lady. Who, thattdlow? 
 
 Sav. Sir, will it pleafe you to remember me } My Keys, 
 good Sir 
 
 2^0. Love. I'll do it prefently. 
 
 El. Love. Come, thou flialt kifs him for our Sport 
 fake. 
 
 Lady. Let him come on then ; and do you hear, do 
 not inftrudl me in thefe Tricks, for you m.ay repent it. 
 
 El. Love. That at my Peril. Lufty Mr. Morecraft, 
 Here is a Lady wou'd falute you. 
 
 Mor. She fhall not lofe her Longing, Sir : What is 
 fhe? 
 
 El. Love. My W^ife, Sir. 
 
 Mor. She mull be then my Miftrefs. 
 
 Lady. Muft I, Sir ? 
 
 El. Love. O yes, you muft. 
 
 Mor. And you muft take this Ring, a poor Pawn 
 of fome fifty Pound. 
 
 El. Love. Take it by any Means, 'tis lawful Prize. 
 
 Lady. Sir, I fliall call you. Servant. 
 
 Mor. I fhall be proud on't: What Fellow's that.^ 
 
 To. Love. My Lady's Coachman. 
 
 Mor. There's fomething, my Friend, for you to buy 
 Whips •, 
 And for you. Sir, and you. Sir. 
 
 El. Love. Under a Miracle, this is the ftrangeft 
 I ever heard of. 
 
 Mor. What, fliall we play, or drink ? What fliall 
 we do? 
 Who will hunt with me for a Hundred Pounds ? - 
 
 Wei. Stranger and ftranger ' 
 
 Sir, 
 
3 66 7^^ Scorn full Lady. 
 
 Sir, you fhall find Sport after a Day or two. 
 
 Yo Lcve. Sir, I have Suit unto you 
 Concerning your old Servant Savil. 
 
 El. Love. O, for his Keys, I know it. 
 
 Sav. Now, Sir, ftrike in. 
 
 Mor. Sir, I muft have you grant me. 
 
 EL Love. 'Tis done. Sir, take your Keys again : 
 But hark you, Savil, leave off the Motions 
 Of the Flefh, and be honeft, or elfe you Ihall graze again : 
 I'll try you once more. 
 
 Sav, If ever I be taken drunk, or whoring. 
 Take off the biggeft Key i'th' Bunch, and open 
 My Head with it. Sir. I humbly thank your Worfhips. 
 El. Love. Nay, then, I fee we muft keep Holiday. 
 
 Enter Roger, and Abigail. 
 
 Here's the laft Couple in Hell. 
 
 Rog. Joy be among you all ! 
 
 Lady. Why, how now. Sir, what's the Meaning of 
 this Emblem ? 
 
 Rog. Marriage, an't like your Worfhip. 
 
 Lady. Are you married ? 
 
 Rog. As faft as the next Prieft could do it. Madam. 
 
 El. Love. I think, the Sign's in Gemini, here's fuch 
 Coupling. 
 
 TFel. Sir Roger, what will you take to He from your 
 Sweetheart to Night ? 
 
 Rog. Not the beft Benefice in your Worfhip's Gift, Sir. 
 
 IVel. A whorfon, how he Swells ! 
 
 To. Love. How many times to Night, Sir Roger? 
 
 Rog. Sir, you grow jfcurrilous : 
 What I fhall do, I fhall do : I fhall not need your Help. 
 
 To. Love. For Horfe-flefh, Roger. 
 
 El. Love. Come, prithee be not angry, 'tis a Day 
 Given wholly to our Mirth. 
 
 Lady. It fliall be (o -, Sir Roger and his Bride, 
 We fhall intreat to be at our Charge. 
 
 El. Love. Welfordy 
 Get you to th' Church ; by this Light, 
 You lie not with her again, 'till married. 
 
 mi. 
 
T^e Scornfull Lady, 367 
 
 Wei. I am gone, 
 
 Mor. To every Bride I dedicate this Day 
 Six Healths a Piece, and, it fhall go hard. 
 But every one a Jewel : Come, be mad. Boys. 
 
 El. Love. Thou'rt in a good Beginning ; Come, who 
 leads ? 
 Sir Roger y you fiiall have the Van : lead the Way : 
 * Would, every dogged Wench had fuch a Day! 
 
 [Exeunt omnes, 
 
 ^he End of the Firfi Volume, 
 
I 
 
Es^i 
 
 POSTSCRIPT 
 
 T O T H E 
 
 FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 Vol, I. 
 
 6b 
 
POSTSCRIPT 
 
 To the First Volume. 
 
 By T. S E W A R D. 
 
 AS Conjcdural Criticifm admits of the grcafefl Va- 
 riety of Opinions, I fliall fubjoin to tliis Volume 
 an Examination of thofe Notes of Mr. Theobald 
 where I happen in any degree to differ from him ; and if 
 the Reader joins in the Approbation of the reft, Mr. Theo- 
 hald will, by this Edition, lofc no Part of that Honour 
 which the learned World paid him for his excellent Edition 
 of Shake/pear. 
 
 Maid's Tragedy, Page 15, Note j2. Neptune in the 
 Mafque thus fpeaks to jEoIus. 
 
 fFc do command thee free, 
 
 Favonius, and thy milder zuinds, to wait 
 Upon our Cinthia ; hut tie Boreas flrai^bt ; 
 He's too rebellious. 
 K.oX. IJImll do it. 
 
 Nept. JDo, great Mafier of the Flood, and all below, 
 
 T'hy full Command has taken. B^q\. Ho! the Main. 
 
 Neptune! — Nept. Here. Mo\. Boreas has broke his 
 
 Chain.~\ The leaft Attention to this Paffage muft 
 
 difcover the grofs Abfurdity of Neptune's calling vEoius 
 
 great Mafier of the Flood. Non illi imperium Pelagi. 
 
 I therefore propos'd to Mr. Theobald the iollowing Con- 
 jedlure. When ALolus goes out to perform the Com- 
 mand, it is necelfary that Neptune fliould fJ3eak fomc- 
 thing, that there may be no Paufe in the A6lion, there 
 being an Aukwardnefs in fuch fort of Paufes, whicli 
 fhould always be avoided in Dramatic Writings, Inftcad 
 of Great 1 read IVe're, and reftoring the Vcrfe, the 
 whole will run thus : 
 
 ^ol. IfJjalldoit. Nept. Do, 
 We're Mafier of the Flood, a?kl all below 
 Thy full Command hath taken. — i^ol. Ho ! the Alain. 
 
 B b 2 ;. r. 
 
372 POSI'SCRIPr. 
 
 i. e. I rule the Sea, and thou rul'ft the "Winds, which are 
 imprifon'd in the Caves below the Earth. It will then 
 become almoil a Tranflation of what Neptune fays oi jEolus 
 in Vi-rgH. 
 
 tenet ilk immaiiia Saxa 
 
 p^ejlras^ Eure^ Domes, ilia fe jaSlet in Aula 
 u^olus, et claufo Vent or urn car cere regnet. 
 
 Mr. Theobald did not mention this from a Partiality to 
 a Corjcflure ot his own, which the Reader will find in- 
 fcrted in the Text, and which makes tolerable fenfe ; but 
 hurries the Adion of jEoIus fo much, that Mr. Theobald 
 has recourfe to jEclus^s Godhead to folve it ; but this could 
 net affift the /15fcr in periorming it, whom it is probable 
 the Poet would take care of, by not putting him in fo 
 indecent a Hurry. • Since Mr. Theobald' s> Death, I re- 
 ceived his valuable Collection of old ^arto's, and find 
 that the fii-ft Edition has not the Word great, but reads 
 thus, 
 
 Nept. D(7, — Majier of the Flood and all below &c. 
 
 It is probable the Word in the Manufcript was blotted, 
 and the firfl ^mrto leit an Hiatus for it, but the Setter 
 cf the Prefs, in the fecond ^arto, very unhappily fiU'd 
 it up with great, which was followM by all the other edi- 
 tions. This therefore feems to render my Conjedlure 
 much more probable. 
 
 Page 1 6, Note 14. After Cinthia's Train have fung 
 their Part, Neptune thus introduces a Song by his Tritons. 
 
 Nept. Great ^een of us and Heaven, hear what I 
 bring 
 V'o make this Hour a fidl one. 
 
 If not her Meafure. Cinth. Speak, Sea's King.] The 
 W^ords, — If not her Meafure — are evidently abfurd, 
 and are inferted in the middle of a Verfe fo as to interrupt 
 the Regularity of the Meafure. By a very flight Change 
 good Senfe may be reftor'd to them, I read theVefore — 
 It not d" er -meafure \ becaufe he fays his Tritons fhould 
 play — Mufick to lead a Storm. And as to the Interrup- 
 tion cf thQ Meafure, fuch Intercalations of Words be- 
 tween 
 
POSTSCRIPT. 373 
 
 twcen Verfcs are us'd by our Authors. Thus Vol. lit, 
 page 191. 
 
 IVe have perforntd a IVork 
 
 Worthy the Gods thanjehcs. 
 Sat. Come forward. Maiden, do not lurk. 
 The Hemiftic is an Intercalation. The Liberties in Mea- 
 fure, taken by our old Dramatic Poets, being quite bound- 
 
 lefs. This Emendation I Tent Mr. Iheobald, but he 
 
 preferr'd a Conjefture of his own, v/hich makes the in- 
 tercalatory Words a mere marginal ^uery, accidentally 
 crept into the Text. The Conjecture is certainly a liappy 
 one ; but I think he ought to have mention*d both, and 
 left the Choice to the Reader, 
 t'age 18, Vcrfe 18. 
 
 The Day breaks here, and yon fame jiaPoing BeatH 
 Shot from the South.'] Moil of the Editions read feme 
 flaring; but the firft Quarto reads Sun-flaring, a com- 
 pound Word, vaftly more poetical than any of the fub- 
 iequent Readings. 
 
 Page 25, Note 22. Mr. Theobald allows the Juftice of 
 Mr. Rhymer*s Exclamation at the Effrontery and Impu*- 
 dcnce of E'vadne'% Character -, as if the Poets were not as 
 fenfible of it as Mr. Rhymer, and had not fufficiently 
 punifh'd her for it. The Anger of thefe Gentlemen at 
 the Charailer, is the very Pafllon defign'd to be rais'd by 
 it ; but they miftook the Object of their Anger, and were 
 as much in the wrong as an Audience would be, who 
 were violently angry with a good Player for reprefcnting 
 Macbeth, lago, or Richard, as fuch confummate Villains. 
 The Queftions which a Critic fliould ask are, Whether 
 the Chara^er is natural? and Whether proper for the 
 Stage or not ? As to the firil -, Nature, we fear, gives 
 but too many fad Examples of fuch Effrontery in V/o- 
 men, who, when abandoned to their Vices, are obferved 
 to be fometimes more reprobate in them than the word 
 of Men. Befide this, there is a remarkable Beauty in 
 the Effrontery and Haughtincfs of Evadne^ Character ; 
 ilie has a Family Likenejs to her Brother •, flie is a Female 
 Melantius depraved by vicious Love. And if there are 
 any of her Exprefliona which feem now too grofs for the 
 
 B b 3 Stage, 
 
374 POSTSCRIPT, 
 
 Srage, it is fufficient to fay, they were far from being 
 thought grofs in the Age they were wrote ; of which fee 
 Proois at Page 54, 55, and ^6, in die Preface. Mr. Thco- 
 hald too is jutl as much miftakcn in his Impeachment of the 
 King's Charader at Note 36 ; he fays it is monftroufly 
 overcharged with Vices. But does not Hiltory afford us 
 a hundred Inftances of fuch royal Monfters ? Indeed, 
 when a vicious King is once perfuaded that he has a I)i- 
 lifiity about him, that proteds his Vices and exalts him 
 above the reach of Law or Juftice, there is no wonder 
 that he fhould abandon himfelf to all manner of Enor- 
 mities. 
 
 Page 32, Note 29. See a Note on this Paflage at 
 Page 30, of the Preface. 
 
 Page 36, Note 0,5' ^^ more^ embrace me] Mr. 7'beo- 
 bald has inferred a Change here which is neither confonant 
 to the Context, nor to the fteady Friendfhip of the Cha- 
 racter who utters it. The Senfe of the old Text is ex- 
 ceedingly clear— No more, i. e. Talk not any more in 
 this manner, but come and embrace me. 
 
 Page 46, 47, ^c. The Qiiarrel between Amintor and 
 Melantins has been the Subject, fays Mr. Theobald, of 
 much Cricicifm. For my part, I have read none but 
 Rhymer*s Abufes, rather than Criticifms, upon it. In an- 
 fwer to which I can only fay, that the Sentiments thro' the 
 whole Scene are nervous, ftriking, and noble -, the Lan- 
 guage poetical and fublime -, and the Occafion of the 
 Qiiarrel a beloved Sifter's Honour. Againft the firft 
 Quarrel therefore nothing but Rancour or Folly can ob- 
 je6b. But Amintofs Challenge of Mekntitts, after their 
 firft Reconciliation, feems at firft fight very unaccount- 
 able, and fo in reality it is ; for it is built upon an abfurd 
 Principle, that of unlimited Pajfive Obedience and Non- 
 Rejijiance to Princes. This was the fafhionable Doflrine 
 of our Author's Age, and Amintor^s Heroifm is intirely 
 built upon it. The Struggle therefore, as is before obferv'd 
 nt Page 37 of the Preface, between his amazing Provoca- 
 tions and his indifpenfable Duty, would naturally hurry 
 him into the Madnefs he here falls into. 
 
 Page 
 
POSTSCRIPT. 275 
 
 Page 51, Note 46. Mr. Theobald blames the Authors 
 for Obfcurity, but witliout reafon. The exprelTion is clear 
 enough, nor needs any Explanation. 
 
 Page 71, Note 61. The Note here of mine was wrote 
 many Years fince, at my firft Entrance on the Work, be- 
 fore I faw the Abfurdity of talking peremptorily in a mat- 
 ter of mere Conjedure j and as a proper Punifliment lor 
 having done it here, more than in almoll: any other Note, 
 I am now convinc'd that 1 was wron<3; in condemning the 
 old Text ; for iho' the Change 1 have made may make 
 better Senfe, I am certain the old Reading was right, fince 
 the fame Sentiment frequently occurs in our Authors Plays. 
 Page 78, Note 6(^. 
 PuWd People from the fartheji Sea to feek hhn. 
 And by his Friend/hip 1 was then his Soldier.'] Inftead of 
 this I propos'd to read, 
 
 Puird People from the farthefi Sea to feek hijn. 
 
 And buy his FrieudfJoip. The corruption from 
 
 buy to by is very eafy, but Mr, Theobald chofe to adopt the 
 Reading of an old Quarto — beg his Friendlhip. But 
 from fo many Copies reading by^ 1 Ihould in this Inftance 
 have preferr'd a Conjedlure to the Authority of that ^arto. 
 The Manufcript was probably blotted, and the Printer of 
 that ^^uarto made good Senfe j but the other feems the 
 better Word, and much nearer in trace of Letters to the 
 corrupt Reading of the reft. 
 
 Page 88, Note 78. Mr. Rhymer ^wd^ Mr. Theobald con- 
 cur again in blaming our Authors for making the Title of 
 the Play relate to the Diftrefs of Afpatia, and the Moral 
 at the Clofe only to the ill Confequcnces of Vice in Kings. 
 But thefe Gentlemen did not remember, that good Writers 
 have frequently avoided giving their Plays a Name whicii 
 might foreftal the Event, and open too much of the 
 main Plot : Thus Venice preferv'd, or The Plot difcovcr' d, 
 has been blam'd for difcovering the Plot too foon. Where- 
 as many of Shakefpear's and our Authors Plays take their 
 Names from fome Charadlcr or Incident that gives not the 
 leaft Infight into the main Defign. 
 
 King and No King, Page 187, Note 6. Mr. Theobald's 
 high-flown Comphments to me here, (hould certainly be 
 
 B b 4 expung'dj^ 
 
376 posrscRiPr. 
 
 expungM, could I take fjch a liberty with the Part whiGh 
 Mr. I'heobald printed : For I equally difapprove the ex- 
 travagant Encomiums, as well as the grofs Abufes o^ Critics 
 upon each other. This Note was printed juft after a flight 
 Difagreement between us was compromis'd, and muft be 
 look'd on as the Effedt of mere Complaifance. 
 
 Page 239, Note 40. < — poor Spaconia lives 
 I'd tell thee thou art falfe ; and then no morel Mr. Symp- 
 fon asks, Should not Spaconia then have held her Tongue ? 
 But, as flie goes on, he thinks the PafTage corrupt, and 
 reads — and tell thee more. — — I by no means admit the 
 Change, but think the old Text not only unexceptionable, 
 but much preferable to the new one. 'To tell thee thou art 
 falfe^ fignifies to fhew thee thy Falfhood in its true Co- 
 lours, which fhe accordingly afterwards paints pretty 
 llrongly. And then jw more, i. e. this fhall be the laft 
 time 1 will upbraid you with it. Here is a fine touch of 
 the tender Pafllons intcrmix'd with the violent ones, which, 
 if well fpoke by the A6brefs, would have an exceeding 
 good effed. Befide, fuppofing it as Mr. Sympfon thought, 
 that the old Reading made her promife to fay no more, 
 and yet (he immediately proceeds to upbraid him very fe- 
 verely -, why even this is very common to People in vio- 
 lent Paflions : Thus our Authors, with inimitable Beauty, 
 at Page 187, make Arhaces, in the midfl of a violent 
 Rage, thank Heaven for having taught his Heart Pa- 
 tience. 
 
 Page 248, Notes 47 and 48.] Mr. Theobald was ex- 
 tremely miftaken in thinking the inimitable burlefque 
 Quarrel between the two Sword/men a Sneer upon Paffages 
 and Scenes of Shake/pear. It is a mofl: excellent Banter 
 upon the horrid Folly of that Age for Quarrelling, and 
 fighting Duels for the meereft Trifles. 
 
 ^he Blood of our bold Touth, which heretofore 
 Was fpent in honourable Action, ^ 
 
 Or to defend, or to enlarge the Kingdom, 
 . Pours out itfelf with prodigal Expence 
 Upon our Mother's Lap, the Earth that bred us. 
 For every Trifle, Little French Lawyer, Ad I. Sc. I. 
 
 Books 
 
POSrSCRIPT. 377 
 
 Books were wrote ro fettle the Pun.'JiJios of ^larreh ; to 
 tell 1 Man that he ;;;/(/?, or PjokLI do any thing, was 
 a high Affront, and to thou him intolerable. Shake^ 
 fpear began the Burkfqiie with great Spirit •, biit the Khi^ 
 and No King being then a favourite Play, very probably 
 contributed greatly to the Diminution of this pernicious 
 Pradicej for when our Authors afterwards carry'd on 
 the fame Banter in the Little French Lawyer^ placing the 
 Scene in Paris^ they tell us the EnglijJj began to deteft 
 this Cuftom of Duellings tho' they -ftill continued to ape 
 the French in their other Follies. See Ad 1. Sc. I. of the 
 Little French Lawyer. 
 
 Tfje Scornful Lady. 
 
 Mr. Theobald did not receive any Afllftance from me in 
 this Play, nor had I read it with the leaft Attention till ic 
 was printed off by him. What I could moll have wifhed 
 to have fuggefted to him, was the Reftoration of the 
 Metre to great numbers of PafTages which are here, as ia 
 all former Editions, printed as Profe ; not that the whole 
 feems to have been v/rote originally in Verfe, as IFit '■jjith- 
 out Money and fome other Plays were, which were beibre 
 printed as Profe. I will juft mention fome of the moll 
 remarkable PafTages, to which the Metre ought to have 
 been rellor'd, as I go on in the Amendment of the Senle. 
 The firll that occurs is indeed a Trilk, Page 28S. 
 
 Enter Welford. 
 Wei. Let ^cm not flandfiilU we have rid. 
 Abig. J Suitor, I know, hy his riding hard; P II not 
 he feen. 
 
 The firll Line is an imperfedl Sentence, and the Word 
 omitted rellores the Meafure. 
 
 Wei. Let'em not Jlandjlill, we* ve rid hard. Abio-. A 
 
 Suitor, 
 I know, hy* his riding hard ; /'// not be feen. 
 
 Page 292, Line 18. 
 And my dear Spark of Velvet, thou and I — -] This may 
 pofllbly refer to a Part of SaviVs Drcfs -, but I remember 
 no Inltancc of our Author's ever menuonirig Felvet as the 
 
 Habit 
 
378 POSTSCRIPT'. 
 
 Habit of any but Beauxs. See Vol. II. Page 167, Note 41^^ 
 where Pelils Maitres are call'd vjalking Velvet Chkes. Be- 
 fides, Savil's formal Drefs is very minutely defcrib'd ac 
 Page 287 ; but not a Word of Velvet is there hinted at. 
 I read Spark of Fellutn, which is fo applicable to a Steward, 
 that Mr. Addifon, who profefTedly took his Character of 
 the Steward in the Drujnmer from this of Savil^ gives him 
 the Name of Vellum. See Page 294. 
 Page 294. 
 H^as given himfelf into the Hayids of Varlets, 
 Not to be carv'd out.'] I fuppofe the only Idea to be af- 
 fix'd to this is — not to be recovered or draw*d out of their 
 Hands. But this feems a very (tiff and improper Ufe of 
 the Metapiior of carving, which is generally ufed in a very 
 different Senfe, and I believe was fo in this Place. T'be 
 Varlets have got him in their Hayids, and are carving him 
 cut amongfl them. I therefore propofe to ftrike out the 
 not, and the Meafure is complete without it : 
 
 And fo voe hug you. Sir. Sav. W as giv' n himfelf 
 Into the Hands of Varlets to he carved out. 
 Page. 296. The firfl: Scene of the fecond A(5l is all in 
 true Meafure, allowing a very few Hemillics. Thus at 
 Line 10. Sir, as a Stranger, you have had all my welcome ; 
 either ?ny which flattens the Senfe Ihould be left out, or we 
 Ihould read. 
 
 Sir, as a Stranger, you*ve had all my welcome. 
 But had I known your Errand e'er you came, &c. 
 Page 297, Note 14. That vifible Beafi, the Butler.'] 
 Vifihle Beaji fignifies, one that appears to every one to be 
 a Bead. I therefore don't aflcnt to the Change which 
 Mr. Sympfon has made here. 
 Page 298. Note 15. 
 Tof.eep, to die, to die to fleep\ 
 Not till the Man be in his Bed, his Grave -, his Grave 
 His Bed •,] Mr. Theobald thinks this a manifefl: Flirt 
 upon the fine Soliloquy of Hamlet. I own it appears fo 
 at firft fight, when feparated from the character who fpeaks 
 it. But let it be obferv'd that Sir Roger\ whole Cha- 
 rafter, being a Burlefque upon Scholarjhip, our Authors 
 probably intended here only to ridicule bad Imiiations of 
 
 real 
 
POSTSCRIPT. 379 
 
 real Beauties. It is here tiirn'd into one of thofe affe^ed 
 Repetitions of the fame fVcrrds, which had been wore thread- 
 bare by the Authors of that Age, and had been banter'd 
 as a fahe Tafte by Shakefpear himfelf in the very Play 
 which our Authors here reter to : He calls it torturing the 
 poor Phrafes, and puts one of them in the mouth of Po~ 
 lonius, a Chara<5ter not very unlike Sir Roger'% *Th true, 
 'tis pity i pity 'tis 'tis true. In the favourite Play of that 
 Age, which all the real Wits, Shakefpear, Johnfon^ Beau- 
 mont., Fletcher^ &c. often ridicule, viz, Hieronymo or the 
 Spanifh Tragedy ^ there is a Speech of great length, every 
 Line of which confifts of Words thus retorted back upon 
 themfelves. But our Authors could not {q miftake the 
 Soliloquy in Hamlet as to think that Shakefpear was tortur- 
 ing of Words in this manner, for he only carries on a 
 Chain of Reaibning by a Man in deep Meditation. Buc 
 it being a very celebrated PaiTage our Authors make their 
 Pedant fpoil it by an affected Imitation. This fliould 
 have been all printed as Verfe, it being a part of the Mock- 
 Heroic., which lofes great part of its Beauty when deprived 
 of its Mcafure. 
 
 until our Fellow Nicholas be 
 
 Deceased., that is afleep ; for fo the Word 
 Is td'en ; to deep, to die ; to die, to flcep. 
 
 yi very Figure., Sir. 
 
 J^lot till the Man he in his Bed., his Grave \ 
 His Grave, his Bed : The very fame again y Sir, 
 Our Comic Poet gives the Reafon fweetly. 
 So on through fevcral Speeches •, in particular when Mar- 
 tha and Abigail enter, I am furpris'd Mr. Theobald., with 
 the former Editors, fliould have degraded the fublimc 
 Sir Roger from his pompous Buskin. 
 Rog. Sir., be addrefi, the Graces do falute you 
 
 With the full Bovul of Plenty. Is our old Ene>ny 
 Entomb' d? Abig. He's fafe. Rog. And does ht 
 
 fnore out 
 Supinely ? with the Poet, &c. 
 This lall probably refers to fome Paflage in a good Poet 
 without any Flirt, where perhaps a Polyphemus was de- 
 icrib'd Ihoring in this n^.aiiner ; as there are fimilar De- 
 
 fcriptiofls 
 
3So POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 fcriptions of him in Homer and Virgil. In the fame 
 Scene, p. 299, Martha wants Welford to like his Poflet, 
 Welford anfwers, 
 
 / would your Sifter could like me as well. Lady. 
 Mar. Sure, Sir, flde would not eat you. 
 
 If this is right it is an Hemiftic, and the Sequel all runs 
 in true Meafure. But the Anfwer does not feem fo fpi- 
 rited from the Thought not being fo fully expreft as it 
 might be. Perhaps therefore the Original might have been 
 
 Why Jurely, Sir, you would not ftoe Jhould eat you. 
 Page 300. Did I expound the Owl .^] The Owl fhould 
 have been wrote in Italics, it being evidently fome Piece of 
 Nich. Broughton'j, or fome fuch doughty Writers. 
 
 Page 303, Line 2. 
 
 In Hatchments to adorn this puijfant Thigh 
 Cramped with the Reft of Peace.'] The Reft of Peace 
 is a little tautological, and I believe the Original was. 
 
 Cramped with the Ruft of Peace. 
 i, e. Cramp'd with wearing fuch a rufty Sword as a long 
 Peace had reduc'd him to. He wanted to have a new 
 Sword, or at leaft to have his old one new hatched: The 
 Hatch of the Sword is the gilded Wire of the Handle, or 
 the Gilt of it in general. The Word is once in Shake- 
 fpear, and very often in our Authors ; as in Benduca, I 
 would as foon doat on my Sword new hatched : And meta- 
 phorically in Ihe Cuftom of the Country, Vol. 2. p. 90* 
 Note 5 1 . the Sword is hatch' d with Blood. There is a 
 Paffage in Macbeth which has been the Subje6l of much 
 Criticifm -, Macbeth defcribing the King's Murder fays, 
 " ■ ■ their Daggers 
 
 Unmannerly breech*d with Gore. 
 
 They who retain breech' d, explain it that the Daggers 
 were ftain'd with Gore up to their Breeches, i e. their 
 Hilts : As the Breech of a Cannon is the lower end of 
 it. But tho* this is common and proper to a Cannon, 
 the Breech of a Dagger is, I believe, neither commonly 
 us'd nor could be fo with propriety. The ingenious Au- 
 thor of the Mifcdlamous Ohfervations on Macbeth, reads. 
 
 Unmanly 
 
posrscRipr. 381 
 
 Unmanly drench'' d. Mr. Warhurton nearer the Trace of 
 the Letters, Unmanly reech^-d. Both explain Unmanly by 
 cowardly. But that there is a Senfe ot it more proper to 
 the Pailage, Tee a Proof in Wit without Money., Note 4. 
 Vol. 2. p. 276. And as to breech d., fuppofing it a Cor- 
 ruption, the Reading which feems to me to bid tairell to 
 have been the Original, is. 
 
 Unmanly hatch'd with Gore. 
 IlatcFd not being underftood by the Editors would natu* 
 rally be chang'd by them. This carries on the very fame 
 Species of forc'd Metaphors that are very juftly obferv'd 
 to form the Beauty ot the Paflage, as Macbeth ading a 
 Part would naturally ufe forc'd and affedled Expreffions. 
 
 His filver Skin is lac'd with golden Bloody 
 And then, 
 
 The Murderers Daggers are hatch'd or gilt with Gore. 
 
 Page 310, In the Captain's Speech, 
 
 The God of Gold here has fed thee well.] The Word 
 fed has fcarce any propriety with the Context, and I take 
 it that the laft Syllable of the true Word only remain'd 
 in the Copy, fed, which the Editors altcr'd to fed; whereas 
 had they regarded theMeafure (for the whole Scene fhould 
 have been printed as Verfe) it would have led them eafily 
 to the true Word, 
 
 The God of Gold here has advis'd thee well. 
 Take Money for thy Dirt : Hark., and believe 
 Thourt cold of Conjlitution, thy* Seat unhealthfuly 
 Sell and be wife •, we're three that will adorn thee^ 
 j^nd live accordiiig to thine own Heart , Child : 
 Mirth fljall be only ours., and only ours 
 Shall be the black-efd Beauties of the time. 
 To print this, and fuch as this, as Profe, lofes half the 
 beauty of the Mock-Heroic. 
 
 Page 324. 
 Are your Keys ready ? I mujl e^fyycur Burden. ] I read, 
 eafe your Burden. And the Reading is confirm'd by the 
 Senfe, the Meal u re, and the old ^arto. The whole 
 Scene fliould have been printed as Verfe^ 
 
 Page 
 
3S2 POSTSCRIPT, 
 
 Pag€ 325, Line 13. 
 7'oH have /poke borne and bitterly to me. Sir.] The Mifer*s 
 Quarrel was with the Captain, who had purpolely provok'd 
 him to give Lcz-elefs an Opportunity ot' courtincr the Wi- 
 dow. He had laid nothing to the Poet^ fo that to me, Sir^ 
 can only bear a very ftiff Scnie, to me. Sir, or according 
 to my thinking. Good Senfe may be reftor'd by a very 
 flight Change ; 
 
 Tgu have /poke home and bitterly too, Mifer. 
 The whole Speech is printed as Profe, which is a "reat 
 Injury to this poor Poet, whofe Metre, and a few Quo- 
 tations, are all that he has to entitle him to the Characler. 
 The Speech fhould have been printed. 
 
 The Man is much mov*d. Be not angry. Sir, 
 But, as the Poet fmgs, let your Difpleafure 
 Be ajhort Fury and go out, Tou have /poke home 
 And bitterly too, Mifcr. Captain, take Truce, 
 The Mifer is a tart and witty Whorfon. 
 
 ' The Captain too fhould have talk*d all in Metre in the 
 next Speech ; and Savil in his Anfwer feems to have loft 
 a Word that hurts the Senfe more than the Meafure. 
 
 Here'' s your poor Friend, ^«c/ Savil, Sir. 
 I read. 
 
 Here's y9ur poor Friend and SGrva.nt, Savil, Sir. 
 
 In the next Line the Captain fays, 
 
 Azi'ay, thou'rt rich in Ornaments of Nature. 
 The old ^afto reads, 
 
 ■ Tenements of Nature. 
 
 A Word of much more Humour and Propriety to the 
 Steward's Charadcr. 
 
 Page 326, Line 32. 
 
 That Man of Mat, that all decayed,] I read, 
 . that all Decay. 
 
 Page 339, Line 7. 
 
 And heap Jffli5fion on me.] The old ^arto reads, 
 Inflidtion on me, which is preferable to the other. And 
 fiYt Lines below, 
 
 though 
 
POSTSCRIPT. 383 
 
 ■ though tny Means 
 
 Was all Humanity 
 
 The old ^tarto reads Hm^iility ; but what is, Though my 
 Means were all Hwnility f Moft probably a whole Line 
 was dropt here, and Means a Corruption ; the true Word 
 bcinfT Meaning. The Context feems to require fomething 
 like the following Senfe, 
 
 • ^fijoas hut a Trick to try you ^ 
 
 Knowing you lov^d 7ne dearly^ and yet firangely 
 That you would never Jhcw it^ I pretended 
 Pride, Infolence, and Anger, though my Meaning 
 Was all Humility. 
 A (lighter Change will indeed give a good Senfe, 
 *twas hut a Trick to try you, 
 
 — — — — but my Meaning 
 Was all Humility. ■ 
 
 Page 342, Line 6. 
 
 From thee, falfe Dice, Jades, Cowards, and plaguy 
 Summers,] For the fake both of the Meafure, 
 Senfe, and Didion, I read, Plague-Summers, i. e. Sum- 
 mers in which the Plague rages. 
 
 Page 345, Line 5. 
 
 ^le is their Eating and their Drinking, furely.] Surely 
 feems a mere Ej^pletive here, but, I believe, the true Word 
 was fclely. i. e. Ale is the only thing they defirc to eat as 
 well as to drink. There is great Humour throughout this 
 Speech, as indeed there is in moft Scenes of the Play, 
 which would have appear*d more confpicuous to thofe 
 who enter into the Spirit of the Mock-Sublime, had it been 
 more generally reftor'd to its Meafure. They who have 
 quick Ears for Metre will reftore many parts as they read 
 it. But this was not Mr. Theobald's Excellence ; tho* 
 when he was aware of the Defedl he feldom fail'd in the 
 Cure. As there are whole Plays in the following Volumes 
 reftor'd to Meafure, tho' before almoft all printed as Profe, 
 ^nd as that Meafure is very lax according to the fafhion 
 of our Authors Age, fome Readers may think that in 
 thole Pjays, and in the Ijiftances quoted in this Poftfcript, 
 
3^4 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 1 may have forc'd the Authors Words into a Meafurc 
 which they never intended. 1 Ihall therefore fubjoin one 
 Proof of the Mcafure in this Play being negledled by all 
 the Editions, where there was ev'n Rhime as well as Verfe. 
 At page 321. The Lady fays 10 IVeifordyViho infilled upon 
 ki fling her, 
 
 lVhat.77inJi be, mufi bs ; I will take my leave-. 
 Ton hff-ce your par Wig Blozv -, I pray ccmmend me 
 To thofe few Friends you have that fent you hither ^ 
 And tell them when y'ou travel next, 'twere fit 
 7'ou brought lefs Bravery with you and more Wit. 
 The firft Editors therefore having had fuch little Regard 
 to the Meafure as to print this as Profe, and a thoufancj 
 other Paffages which are as evidently Verfe as this, there is no 
 Wonder if the Meafure by their Tranfpofttions, OmiJJtons, 
 and Mijlakes, is in many Places fo loft as never to be re- 
 ilor*d with any tolerable Degree of Certainty. However 
 when the Senfe and Meafure fail together, the one is a 
 great help to the Recovery of the other. There is one 
 loftance of this ftili left in Philajler^ which we had all 
 three overlook'd notwithftanding all our Attention and 
 Care of that favorite Play. The Defed in the Meafure 
 pointed it out to me at laft when I had almoft finifliM this 
 Poflfcript : Philajler lays to Arethufa and Bellario, 
 
 take me in Tears betwixt you^ 
 
 For ffry Heart will break with Shame an4 Sorrow. 
 Are. Why, *tis well. 
 
 Philafter, A(5l 5. Scene 2. Page 158. 
 
 The Reader will fee that the fecond Line is no Verfe, and 
 how abfurd is it for the tender Arethufa to anfwer, that it 
 is well that his Heart will break. Befide, a Flood of 
 Tears eafes the Heart overcharg'd with Grief, and hinders 
 it from breaking. By reftoring a fingle Particle we IhalJ 
 recover both Meafure and Senfe : 
 
 — — — take me in Tears betwixt you^ 
 For t\k my Heart will break with Shame and Sorrow. 
 The Tears are to prevent the Burfting of his Heart, anc} 
 ihis is what Arethufa fays is well. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
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