^>TC 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE 
 
 DRAMATICK WORKS 
 
 O F 
 
 PHILIP MASSINGEL 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL I. 
 
 T^f
 
 82JI0W jLDlTAlf.ARd 
 
 T O 
 
 jiaorciae am 41 tn 
 
 >{ T J O 'i 
 
 
 v
 
 '/M'JrJ /y &&***. '/r/./779-
 
 THE 
 
 DRAMATICK WORKS 
 
 O F 
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER 
 
 COMPLETE, 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES. 
 
 HVIS1D AND COHICTII, 
 
 WITH NOTES CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY, 
 BY JOHN MONCK MASON, Efq. 
 
 TO WHICH ARE ADDED, 
 
 REMARKS AND OBSERVATIONS OF VARIOUS AUTHORS 
 
 CRITICAL REFLECTIONS ON THE OLD ENGLISH 
 DRAMATICK WRITERS; 
 
 A SHORT ESSAY ON THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF 
 MASSINGER, INSCRIBED TO DR. S. JOHNSON. 
 
 VOLUME THE FIRST. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed for T. DAVIES, in Russel-Street ; T. PAYNE and 
 
 SON, at the Mews-Gate; L. DAVIS, in Holbourn ; 
 
 J. NICHOLS, Red-Liov Passage; T. EVANS, 
 
 in the Strand; W. DAVIS, in Piccadilly; 
 
 and H. PAYNE, in Pall-Mall. 
 
 M DCCLXXIX.f.*
 
 !! ! 
 
 PREFACE. ^38 
 
 THE dramatic Productions of the Age of 
 Shakefpeare have long afforded me a fa- 
 vourite Amufement ; charmed with the fublime 
 Conceptions, the natural Sentiments, the poeti- 
 cal Diction, and the flowing Numbers of the 
 Writers of that Period, nay, even with the ro- 
 mantic Incidents of their ancient Stories, they ap- 
 pear to me more amuling and more natural, than 
 the concealed Princes, diffracted Mothers, and 
 critical Difcoveries, which in general form the 
 uninterefting Plots of our modern Tragedies, 
 (I perufe them repeatedly with undiminished Sa- 
 tisfaction ;) yet, notwithftanding my Partiality 
 "> for this Kind of Reading, and fome Pains I had 
 ^> taken to gratify it, I never heard of Majfinger 
 K till about two Years ago, when a Friend of 
 i mine, whu knew my Inclination, fent me a 
 Copy of his Works, from whence I received 
 
 Jthat high Degree of Pleafure, which they cannot 
 fail to give to every Reader of Tafte and Feel- 
 ing. 
 
 It is flrange, that a Writer of fuch evident 
 H Excellence mould be fo little known ; and re- 
 ^ main for a Century in a State of Obfcurity, 
 <* from which even a modern Edition of his Works 
 & has failed to redeem him ; but that Edition, it 
 mult be confeffed, did not merit a very favour- 
 
 Vol. I. a 
 
 414967
 
 it PREFACE. 
 
 able Reception from the Publick ; the Editor, 
 who feems to have pofleflcd but a fmall Share 
 either of Judgment or Attention, having re- 
 tained in the Text a Number of Blunders which 
 appear at firft Sight, and the Amendments in 
 many Places, are as obvious as the Errors had 
 it required much Labour to inveftigate either, 
 the Talk of publifhing the prefent Edition would 
 never have fallen to my Lot ; but, having con- 
 tracted a Habit of rectifying in the Margin the 
 Miftakes that I difcover in any Book before me, 
 thefe Emendations of Mqfftnger were made as I 
 read him, and intended for my private Satisfac- 
 tion only ; they happened, however, to be feen 
 accidentally by two of my Friends, who expref- 
 fed their Approbation of them in very flattering 
 Terms, and joined in requefting that I would 
 fuffer them to be printed : -I had not in Truth 
 the Vanity to fuppofe, that Corrections made 
 in this curlbry Manner could be worthy of the 
 Prefs, but in Deference to their Judgment I 
 gave them to the Public. 
 
 As the whole of MaJJitiger's Plays, and one 
 Half at leaft of thofe oiShakefpeare and Fletcher, 
 were published whilft. the Authors were living, 
 it is furprifing they mould be handed down 
 in fo depraved a State, that Induftry, Learning, 
 and Genius, have hitherto been in vain exerted 
 to reftore them : it gives us Room to fufpect, 
 that, content with prefent Profit and prefent Ap- 
 plaufe, they but little regarded the Sentiment* 
 of Pofterity ; yet, it is generally fuppofed, that 
 Perfons of elevated Genius look forward to Im- 
 mortality, and confider future Fame as their no- 
 blefr. Reward. Notwithftanding the Labours of
 
 PREFACE. ill 
 
 MefTrs. ThecbaU, Seward and Sympfon, their joint 
 Edition of Beaumont and Fletcher is almoil as 
 incorrect as that of Majfinger\ j nor have even the 
 eminent Abilities of John/on produced a perfect 
 Edition of Shakefpeare ; tho' ailifted by the Sa- 
 gacity of Five preceding Editors, * and by ma- 
 ny judicious Obfervations that have, at Times , 
 been published, on particular Parts of that ini- 
 mitable Poet; he has left many PafTages in his 
 Edition that ftill require Correction, and in 
 others has too readily admitted Amendments, 
 where Explanation only was necefTary ; yet, if 
 we confider the univerlal Erudition of this ex- 
 traordinary Man, the Vigour of his Undemand- 
 ing, the Strength of his Imagination f, and his 
 accurate Knowledge of the Englifh Language, 
 it muft be confefled, that there is no other Per- 
 fon of the prefent Age fb thoroughly qualified 
 for that Talk there is one Qualification, how- 
 ever,' in which I fufpect that John/on was defici- 
 ent, and from which, had he pofYefTed it, he 
 muft have derived a material Advantage ; the. 
 Qualification I mean, is an intimate Acquain- 
 
 % A correct and much improved Edition of Beaumont and 
 Fletcher was published very lately. D. 
 
 * Rowe, Pope, Theobald, Hanmer and Warburton. 
 
 f I confider imagination as one of the Qualities which it 
 is requifitean Editor of Shakefpeare fhould poffefs ; for with* 
 out Imagination it will be impoflible for him to form an Idea 
 of feme of that Poet's fublimcft Flights, and he cannot ex- 
 plain what he does not conceive. One of the meft learned 
 and ingenious Men of this Age has published an Edition of 
 Shakefpeare, but being totally devoid exf poetical Imagination, 
 and applying thofe Talents to Verfe which Nature had confi- 
 ned to Profc, he not only failed in the Attempt, but expofed 
 himfelf to the fair ridicule of Perfons whofe Abilities were 
 inferior to his own. 
 
 a t,
 
 iv PREFACE. 
 
 tance with the Writings of the other dramatic 
 Poets of Shake/pearls Age ; * for contemporary 
 Author.* are Comments on each other ; and there 
 are many PafTages in our ancient Writers, that, 
 feparately considered, appear erroneous, which, 
 when compared with the other Productions of 
 that Period, are found agreeable to the received 
 Ufage and Language of the Time. The Sup- 
 position, that John/on was not thoroughly conver- 
 iant with the Writers contemporary with Shake- 
 Jpeare, is founded on this Circumftance, that al- 
 tho' we find frequent Quotations in his Dictio- 
 nary, from Blackmore, UE/f range, and other Au- 
 thors of no great Estimation, there is not a fins 
 gle Quotation in that Work either from Majfin- 
 ger, or Beaumont and Fletcher, though they are 
 clearly entitled to the higheit Form amongit the 
 classical Writers of the EngJiJh Language ; and 
 might juftly be considered as better Authority 
 than even Shakefpeare himfelf, for the proper 
 Ufe of any Word or Expression ; being more 
 correct and grammatical than he is, and appear- 
 ing to have had a more competent Knowledge of 
 other Languages, which gave them a more accu- 
 rate Idea of their own. Had John/on fhidied 
 the Works of thefe Writers with more Atten- 
 tion, it would have contributed not only to im- 
 prove his Shakefpeare, but his Dictionary alfo. 
 
 With Refpect to the general Merit of Maf- 
 
 finger, I (hall add but little to what has been faid 
 
 in the Eflay prefixed to the former Edition, and 
 
 attributed to Mr. Colt nan ; nor mall I attempt 
 
 * That fuppof.-d defect has been amply fupplied in the laft 
 Edition of fwnfoC% Sbakejptar*, by tAi\. St: evens and others. D.
 
 PREFACE. v 
 
 to point out and enlarge upon, the many fub- 
 lime and beautiful Paflages that may be found 
 interfperfed through the whole of thefe Plays. 
 The Readers of Taiie will difcover thefe Beau- 
 ties without a Prompter, and he who has none, 
 will never acquire it from the (light Admonitions 
 which Notes can convey : It is not, indeed, from 
 certain brilliant Paflages, that we mould judge of 
 the Merit of dramatic Compofitions. ThatA/^%- 
 ger's, take them for all in all, are more excel- 
 lent than thole of any Writer that has appeared 
 fince his Time, will readily be admitted : but I 
 will go farther, and venture to aflert, that none 
 of his own contemporary Writers, in that gol- 
 den Age of dramatic Poetry can clearly be pre- 
 ferred to him, Shakefpeare and Beaumont and 
 Fletcher excepted. Between him and Jonfon no 
 juft Comparifon can be drawn, their .Manners 
 of Writing are fo entirely different. The ini- 
 mitable * Doings of Jonfon in the Fox, the Al~ 
 chemift, and Silent Woman, and alfo in the Co- 
 medy of Every Man in his Humour, which is not 
 inferior to any of the Three, will be admired 
 to the End of Time, whilft his Tragedies will 
 be forgotten, or received with Difguft, the Poet 
 being loft in the pedantic Tranflator. Maffnger 
 is as far above the Level of Shirley, as he is below 
 that of Shakefpeare ; and thofe who mall join 
 with me in adjudging the Preference to Beaumont 
 and Fletcher, mult at the fame Time acknow- 
 ledge, that fome of Mqffingers Compofitions are 
 equal to the beft of theirs. 
 
 * The Fox, the Alchemijl and Silent TVoman, 
 Done by Ben 'Jonfon, and outdone by no Man. 
 
 a 3
 
 vi PREFACE. 
 
 There is one particular Excellence indeed in 
 which Majjinger iurpafles not only Fletcher but 
 even Shakcfpeare himfelf; I mean the general 
 Harmony of" his Numbers ; he cannot boaft of 
 that boundlefs Variety, that diicriminating 
 Power of Exprefllon, which enabled Shakefpeare 
 to appropriate, as it were, a peculiar Language 
 to his principal Characters ; but in theeafy Flow 
 of natural yet elevated Di&ion, Mqffinger, in my 
 Judgment, has hitherto been unequalled *. 
 
 It is in this very Talent that our modern Wri- 
 ters of Tragedy are particularly efficient : their 
 conftrained, unnatural Verification no more re- 
 fembles the eafy, poetic Numbers of Majjinger, 
 than the aukwardftrutting of a Perfon upon Stilts 
 does the elegant Motions of a graceful Dancer. 
 The Progrels and Decline of that admirable Stile 
 of Writing, are equally remarkable. It owes 
 its Being to Shakefpeare, the Poet of Nature ; 
 arrived in a fhort I ime to its full Perfection ; 
 was adopted by every dramatic Writer of the 
 Ag with Succefs proportioned to their reipedlive 
 Anilities, and continued to flourifh from the 
 Middle of Queen Elizabeth's Reign to that of 
 Charles I. when it began to decline, and has now 
 for fome Years been entirely difcarded.---That a 
 Manner of Writing of fuch manifeft Excellence, 
 fo expreffive, io poetical, fo adapted to the Ge- 
 nius of the Englifh Language, fo according with 
 
 * I mean with Refpeft to the general Tenor of his Wri. 
 tings j for there are fome particular Paflages in Shakefpeare, is 
 which he furpafles every other Poet in his peculiar Excel- 
 lence.
 
 PREFACE. vii 
 
 the Feelings of the human Heart, mould, after 
 it had been eftablifhed for a Series of Years, be 
 totally loft, and give Place to a Jargon the moft 
 unnatural, jejune and infipid that Words can 
 compofe ; and that this Jargon mould become 
 ib univerfally in XJ{e with every Tragic Writer 
 in thefe Days of Refinement, that it is fcarcely 
 poflible to diftinguifti, by Stile alone, the Pro- 
 ductions of any one of them from thofe of ano- 
 other, is one of thofe ftrange Revolutions in 
 Tafte, for which no fatisfactory Caufe can be 
 amgned. It would be unjuft to impute it to a 
 general Deficiency of Genius in our Writers, for 
 iome of them undoubtedly are not devoid of it. 
 The Author of the Eflay prefixed to thefe Plays, 
 attributes it in fome Meafure to the Difufe of 
 Blank Verfe in moil: of our modern Compofi- 
 tions, Tragedy excepted ; but I mould fuppole 
 it to be principally occafioned by that violent 
 Admiration of the French Theatre, which has 
 prevailed for many Years in the famionable 
 World. Our Writers naturally endeavoured to 
 imitate what they found fo much admired, and 
 with a Degree of Succefs which we have Reafon 
 to deplore, have adopted from the French not 
 only the dull Regularity of their Plots, but the 
 wearifome Monotony of their Verification : 
 In moft of our Tragedies, the Imitation is lb 
 glaring, that they have loft the Appearance of ori- 
 ginal Compofitions, and are written in the Tone 
 and fettered Stile of Tranflation, not in that free 
 and vigorous Language, in which thofe who pof- 
 fefs any Spark of poetic Fire, exprefs their Na- 
 tive, genuine Conceptions. There may be, per- 
 
 a 4
 
 viii preface; 
 
 haps, a few of tlicfe Pieces that do not juftly 
 fall under this general Cenfure ; and there is one 
 I mult, particularly except from it, I mean the 
 Tragedy of Braganza, in which we find a Rich- 
 D f$ of poetical Diction, and that Harmony of 
 Numbers, which we look for in vain in the other 
 Productions of the Time. -I will venture to ai- 
 fert, that if the true dramatic Melody mail he re- 
 vived in our Days, it will owe its Revival to the 
 Author of Braganza, and the public Voice will 
 confirm this Opinion, whenever" the Lawof Lorn* 
 bardy mall find its Way to the Stage. 
 
 Though T have expreffed my Approbation of 
 MaJ/ingers Excellencies, I do not mean to rcpre- 
 fent him as a faultlefs Writer : it mull: be con- 
 ferred, that, in common with the other great 
 Poets of his Age, he has his grofs Expreffions, 
 and his Scenes of Buffoonery : but this -1 conii- 
 der as rather the Vice of the Times than of the 
 Authors ; they neceifarily accommodated them- 
 felves to the Tafte of the Audience, who would 
 probably have difrelimed the mod elegant En- 
 tertainment they could have fet before them, had 
 not fome of the Dimes been larded with Ri- 
 baldry. When Men of Genius and of delicate 
 Feelings concurred in playing the Fool, it is a 
 Proof that Foolery was much in Repute. The 
 Reader will alio difcover in Mafjinger a few, and 
 but a few, grammatical Inaccuracies, which ha- 
 ving arifen from Inattention only, might have 
 been ealily corrected ; but I confider it as Part of 
 the Duty of an Editor, to diiHnguifh between 
 the Inadvertencies of the Author, and the Blun- 
 ders of the Printer : he mould fpare no Pains to
 
 PREFACE. k 
 
 rectify the latter, but the former he Ihould leave 
 as he finds them, 
 
 I shall conclude this Preface, which has far 
 exceeded the Bounds I propoled to it, with a 
 fhort Account of the Manner in which this Edi- 
 tion is conducted. 
 
 I have admitted into the Text all my own 
 Amendments, in Order that thofe who, purfu- 
 ing Dr. Johnjons Advice in his excellent Preface 
 to Shake/pear e 9 may wifh on the firft Perufal of 
 thjfe Plavs, to give free Scope to their Fancy and 
 their Feelings, and without turning aiide to ver- 
 bal Criticilm, may read them in that which ap- 
 pears to me the molt perfect State ; but, for the 
 Satisfaction of more critical Readers, or of the 
 fame Readers on a iecond Perufal, I have direc- 
 ted that the Words rejected by me ihould be in- 
 ferted in the Margin. 
 
 Where any Doubts can arife concerning the 
 Juftnefs of a Correction, I have afligned the 
 Reafon for it ; but where they deviate but little 
 from the Text, and the Propriety of them is ib 
 evident, that it muft be acknowledged the Mo- 
 ment they are fuggefted, I have not infultcd the 
 Understandings of the Readers by enlarging upon 
 them. 
 
 There is another confiderable Improvement 
 in this Edition, for which I expect no Degree 
 of Credit, though it tends as materially to the 
 Explanation of the Author as more confpicuous 
 Emendations ; I mean the Reformation of ths-
 
 x PREFACE. 
 
 Pointing, which in the former Edition is ex 
 tremely faulty : but the Merit of this Edition, in 
 that RefpecT:, can only be known by comparing 
 it with tiie others, and if any Reader fhall take 
 that Trouble, he has more Curiofity than I 
 fhould have in his Place. J have not, however, 
 attended to trifling Errors, or rectified the falie 
 Pointing, unlefs where it eflentially affected the 
 Senfe. 
 
 I have continued in this Edition the Effay on 
 our old Dramatic Writers, becaufe it is very well 
 written ; and a fhort Account of MaJJingers Life, 
 is undertaken by one who, I doubt not, will execute 
 that tafk with Care and Fidelity ; no Obfervations 
 of the former Editor's are omitted, that could ei- 
 ther contribute to the Information of the Rea^ 
 ders, or to his own Reputation ; but where his 
 Remarks were undoubtedly erroneous, I have 
 not inferted them, merely to enjoy the Triumph 
 of refuting him. Thofc who delight in long 
 Annotations, and Comparifons with Paflages ap- 
 parently fimilar in other Writers, will be much 
 dhTatisfied with this Edition, in which they will 
 find but a few fhort Notes, and thofe merely ex- 
 planatory ; but to gratify their Inclinations, I 
 could have made that a Labour, which was 
 meant for an Amufement ; which would indeed 
 have been contrary to my own Judgment, who 
 have always confidered an unneceflary Note, as 
 an offenfive Interruption, and have never recei- 
 ved any real Satisfaction from comparative Quo- 
 tations ; I have therefore ftruck out many iuch, 
 that I found in the former Edition, where the
 
 PREFACE. xi 
 
 Editor, mifled by a {ingle Word, has likened 
 PafTages that were not like at all. 
 
 It was not originally my Intention to give any 
 Name to this Edition ; but it is fuggefted to me 
 that an anonymous Publication would not an- 
 fwer the Purpofe of refcuing this ancient Bard 
 from Oblivion ; and that a Name, though un- 
 known in the literary World, would contribute to 
 attract the Curiofity of the Public : On this 
 Confideration, I have ventured to enter the Lifts 
 as a Candidate for inferior Fame, as Dr. John/on 
 writes it, and without any fanguine Expectations 
 of Applaufe : yet I flatter myfelf, that this 
 Edition of Mqffinger will be found more correct, 
 (and Corrednefs is the only Merit it pretends 
 to) than the beft of thofe which have as yet 
 been publiihed of any other ancient dramatic 
 Writer. 
 
 To Edward Tighe, Efq; by whofe Perfua- 
 fion it was publiihed, this Edition is Dedicated 
 by his moft lincere Friend and humble Servant, 
 
 J. Monck Mason.
 
 Critical Reflections 
 
 O N TH 
 
 Old Englijh Dramatic Writers ; 
 
 AND PARTICULARLY 
 
 MAS S I N G E R. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO 
 
 DAVID G A RRI C K, Efq;
 
 CRITICAL REFLECTIONS 
 
 ON THE 
 
 Old Enpliflj Dramatick Writers. 
 
 i 
 
 to DAVID GAR RICK, Efq; 
 
 S I R, 
 
 IT is not unnatural to imagine that, on the 
 firft Glance of your Eye over the Adver- 
 tiiement of a new Pamphlet, addrefled to your* 
 felf, you are apt to feel fome little Emotion ; 
 that you beftow more than ordinary Attention 
 on the Title, as it {lands in the News-paper, and 
 take Notice of the Name of the Publisher. Is 
 it Compliment or Abuie ? One of thefe being 
 determined, you are perhaps eager to be fatis- 
 fied, whether fome coarfe Hand has laid on En- 
 comiums with a Trowel, or fome more elegant 
 Writer, (fuch as the Author of The Affor, for 
 Inftance) has done Credit to himfelf and you by 
 his Panegyrick ; or, on the other Hand, whe- 
 ther any offended Genius has employed thofe. 
 Talents againft you, which he is ambitious of
 
 xvi Critical Reflections on the 
 exercifing in the Service of your Theatre ; or 
 ibme common Scribe has taken your Character, 
 as he would that of any other Man or Woman, 
 or Minifter, or the King, if he durir, as a popu- 
 lar Topick of Scandal. 
 
 Be not alarmed on the prefent Occafion ; nor, 
 with that Confcioufnefs of your own Merit, fo 
 natural to the Celebrated and Eminent, indulge 
 yourfelf in an Acquiefcence with the Juftice of 
 ten thoufand fine Things, which you may fup- 
 pofe ready to be faid to you. No private Satire 
 or Panegyrick, but the general Good of the Re- 
 publick of Letters, and of the Drama in parti- 
 cular, is intended. Though Praife and Di 
 praife ftand ready on each Side, like the VefTels 
 of Good and Evil on the right and left Hand of 
 jfupiter, I do not mean to dip into either : Or, if 
 I do, it mail be, like the Pagan Godhead him-* 
 felf, to mingle a due Proportion of each. Some- 
 times, perhaps, I may find Fault, and fome- 
 times beftow Commendation : But you muft not 
 expect to hear of the Qiiicknefs of your Concep- 
 tion, the JufHce of your Execution, the Exprei- 
 fion of your Eye, the Harmony of your Voice, 
 or the Variety and Excellency of your Deport- 
 ment ; nor mail you be malicioufly informed that 
 you are fhorter than B any, leaner thanSjw;;, and 
 lefs a Favourite of the Upper Gallery than I Food- 
 ward or Shuter. 
 
 The following Pages are deftined to contain a 
 Vindication of the Works of MaJ/inger; one of 
 our old dramatick Writers, who very leldom 
 falls much beneath Shakeffeare himielf, and 
 lometimes almoft rifes to a proud Rivalfhip of
 
 Old English Drama tick Writers, xvli 
 
 his chiefefr. Excellencies. They are meant too 
 as a laudable, though faint, Attempt to refcue 
 thefe admirable Pieces from the too general Ne- 
 glect, which they now labour under, and to re- 
 commend them to the Notice of the Publick. 
 To whom then can fuch an EfTay be more pro- 
 perly infcribed than to you, whom that Publick 
 leems to have appointed, as its chief Arbiter De- 
 liciarum, to prefide over the Amuiements of the 
 Theatre ? But there is alfo, by the bye, a pri- 
 vate Reafon for addreffing you. Your honeft 
 Friend Dazy'es, who, as is faid of the provident 
 Comedians in Holland, fpends his Hours of Va- 
 cation from the Theatre in his Shop, is, too well 
 acquainted with the Efficacy of your Narre 
 at the Top of a Play-bill, to omit an Opportu- 
 nity of prefixing it to a new Publication ; ho- 
 ping it may prove a Charm to draw in Purcha- 
 sers, like the Head of Shahefpeare on his Sign. 
 My Letter too being anonymous, your Name at 
 the Head will more than compenfate for the 
 Want of mine at the End of it : And our 
 above-mentioned Friend is, no Doubt, too well 
 verfed in both his Occupations, not to know the 
 Confequence of Secrecy in a Bookfeller, as well 
 as the Neceffity of concealing from the Publick 
 many Things that pafs behind the Curtain. 
 
 There is perhaps no Country in the World 
 more Subordinate to the Power of Fafhion than 
 our own. Every Whim, every Word, every 
 Vice, every Virtue, in its Turn, becomes the 
 Mode, and is followed with a certain Rage of 
 Approbation for a Time. The favourite Stile in 
 
 Vol. I. b
 
 xviii Critical Reflections on the 
 
 all the polite Arts, and the reigning Tafte in 
 Letters, are as notorioufly Objects of Caprice as 
 Architecture and Drefs. A new Poem, or No- 
 vel, or Farce, are as inconiiderately extolled 
 or decried as a RufF or a Chlnefe Rail, a Hoop or 
 a Bow Window. Hence it happens, that the 
 Publick Tafte is often vitiated : Or if, by 
 Chance, it has made a proper Choice, becomes 
 partially attached to one Species of Excellence, 
 and remains dead to the Senfe of all other Merit, 
 however equal or fuperior. 
 
 I think I may venture to afTert, with a Con- 
 fidence, that on Reflection it will appear to be 
 true, that the eminent Clafs of Writers, who 
 flourished at the Beginning of this Century, have 
 almoft entirely fuperfeded their illuftrious Prede- 
 ceffors. The Works of Congreve, Vanburgh, 
 Steele, Addifon, Pope, Swift, Gay, &c. &c. are 
 the chief Study of the Million : I fay, of the 
 Million, for as to thofe few, who are not only 
 familiar with all our own Authors, but are alio 
 converfant with the Ancients, they are not to be 
 circumfcribed by the narrow Limits of the Fa- 
 fhion. Shakefpeare and Milton feem to ftand alone, 
 like firft-rate Authors, amid the general Wreck 
 of old Engli/h Literature. Milton perhaps owes 
 much of his prefent Fame to the generous La- 
 bours and good Tafte of Addifon. Shakefpeare has 
 been tranfmitted down to us with fuccellive Glo- 
 ries ; and you, Sir, have continued, or rather 
 increafed, his Reputation. You have, in no ful- 
 fome Strain of Compliment, been itiled the belt. 
 Commentator on his Works : But have you not, . 
 like other Commentators, contracted a narrow, 
 excluiive, Veneration of your Author ? Has not
 
 Old English Dramatick Writers, xix 
 
 the Contemplation of Shakefpearc's Excellencies, 
 almolt dazzled and extinguished your Judgment, 
 when directed to other Objects, and made you 
 blind to the Merit of his Contemporaries ? Under 
 your Dominion, have not Beaumont and Fletcher, 
 nay even Jon forty fufTered a Kind of theatrical 
 Dilgrace ? And has not poor Mq/fngcr, whole 
 Cauie I have now undertaken, been permitted to 
 languish in Obfcurity, and remained almoft en- 
 tirely unknown. 
 
 To this perhaps it may be plaufibly anfwer- 
 ed, nor indeed without fome Foundation, that 
 many of our old Plays, though they abound 
 with Beauties, and are raifed much above the 
 humble Level of later Writers, are vet, on feve- 
 ral Accounts, unfit to be exhibited on the mo- 
 dern Stage ; that the Fable, inftead of being rai- 
 fed on probable Incidents in real Life, is gene- 
 rally built on fbme foreign Novel, and attended 
 with romantick Circumftances ; that the Con- 
 duct of thefe extravagant Stories is frequently 
 uncouth, and infinitely offennve to that drama- 
 tick Correclnefs preicribed by late Criticks, and 
 practifed, as they pretend, by the French Wri- 
 ters ; and that the Characters, exhibited in our 
 old Plays, can have no pleafing Effect on a mo- 
 dern Audience, as they are io totally different 
 from the Manners of the prefent Age. 
 
 These, and fuch as thefe, might once have 
 appeared reafonable Objections : But you, Sir, 
 of all Perfons, can urge them with the leafr. 
 Grace, iince your Practice has fo fully proved 
 their Iniufficiencv. Your Experience mull have 
 
 b 2
 
 xx Critical Reflections on the 
 
 taught yon, that when a Piece has any ftriking 
 Beauties, they will cover a Multitude of Inac- 
 curacies ; and that a Play need not be written 
 on the fevered Plan, to pleafe in the Reprefen- 
 tation. The Mind is foon familiarized to Irre- 
 gularities, which do not fin againft the Truth of 
 Nature, but are merely Violations of that hVit 
 Decorum, of late io earneftly infifted on. What 
 patient Spectators are we of the In contingencies 
 that confefledly prevail in our darling Shakefpeare I 
 What critical Catcall ever proclaimed the Inde- 
 cency of introducing the Stocks in the Tragedy 
 of Lear? How quietly do we feeGIo/ter take his 
 imaginary Leap from Dover Cliff! Or, to give a 
 ftronger Infrance of Patience, with what a phi- 
 lofophical Calmnefs do the Audience doze over 
 the tedious, and uninterefting, Love-fcenes, with 
 which the bungling Hand of Tate has coarfely 
 pieced and patched that rich Work of Shake- 
 fpeare ! To inftance further from Shahfpeare 
 himfelf, the Grave-diggers in Hamlet (not to 
 mention Polonius) are not only endured, but ap- 
 plauded ; the very Nurfe in Romeo and Juliet is 
 allowed to be Nature ; the TranfacYions of a 
 whole Hiftory are, without Offence, begun and 
 completed in lefs than three Hours ; and we are 
 agreeably wafted by the Chorus, or oftener with- 
 out ib much Ceremony, from one End of the 
 World to another. 
 
 It is very true, that it was the general Prac- 
 tice of our old Writers, to found their Pieces on 
 fome foreign Novel ; and it feemed to be their 
 chief Aim to take the Story as it flood, with all 
 its appendant Incidents of every Complexion, 
 and throw it into Scenes. This Method was, to
 
 Old English Dramatick Writers, xxi 
 be fure, rather inartificial, as it at once over- 
 loaded and embarraffed the Fable, leaving it def- 
 titute of that beautiful dramatick Connection, 
 which enables the Mind to take in all its Cir- 
 cumftances with Facility and Delight. But I 
 am flill in Doubt, whether many Writers, who 
 come nearer to our own Times, have much 
 mended the Matter. What with their Plots, 
 and Double-plots, and Counter-plots, and Un- 
 der-plots, the Mind is as much perplexed to 
 piece out the Story, as to put together the difr 
 jointed Parts of our ancient Drama. The Co- 
 medies of Congreve have, in my Mind, as little 
 to boafr of Accuracy in their Conitruction, as 
 the Plays of Shakefpeare ; nay, perhaps, it might 
 be proved that, amidft. the molt open Violation 
 of the lefler critical Unities, one Point is more 
 Steadily purfued, one Character more uniformly 
 fhewn, and one grand Purpofe of the Fable more 
 evidently accomplished in the Productions of 
 $hakejpeare than of Congreve, 
 
 These Fables (it may be further objected) 
 founded on romantick Novels, are unpardonably 
 wild and extravagant in their Circumftances, and 
 exhibit too little even of the Manners of the 
 Age in which they were written. The Plays 
 too are in themlelves a Kind of heterogeneous 
 Compolition ; fcarce any of them being, ltriclly 
 fpeaking, Tragedy, Comedy, or even Tragi- co^ 
 medy, but rather an indigefted Jumble of every 
 Species thrown together, 
 
 This Charge muft be cohfefled to be true : 
 But upon Examination it will, perhaps, be found 
 
 b a
 
 xxii Critical Reflections on the 
 of lcfs Confequcnce than is generally imagine d 
 Thefe Dramatick Tales, for ib we may belt itile 
 fuch Plays, have often occasioned much Pleafure 
 to the Reader and Spectator, which could not 
 poflibly have been conveyed to them by any 
 other Vehicle. Many an interefti ng Story, 
 which, from the Diverfity of its Circumftances, 
 cannot be regularly reduced either to Tragedy or 
 Comedy, yet abounds with Character, and con- 
 tains feveral affecting Situations : And why fuch 
 a Story mould lofe its Force, dramatically rela- 
 ted and afiifted by Reprefentation, when it plea- 
 fes, under the colder Form of a Novel, is diffi- 
 cult to conceive. Experience has proved the Ef- 
 fect of fuch Fictions on our Minds; and con- 
 yinceq! us, that the Theatre is not that barren 
 Ground, wherein the Plants of Imagination will 
 not flourim. The Tempefl, The Midfummer Night's 
 Dream, The Merchant of Venice, As 7~ou Like It, 
 Twelfth Night, The Faithful Shepherdefs of Fletcher, 
 (with a much longer Lift that might be added 
 from Shakeffeare, Beaumont and Fletcher, and 
 their Contemporaries, or immediate Succeflbrs) 
 have moil of them, within all our Memories, 
 been ranked among the moft popular Entertain- 
 ments of the Stage. Yet none of thefe can be 
 denominated Tragedy, Comedy, or Tragi-Co- 
 medy. The Play-Bills, I have obferved, cauti- 
 oufly ftile them Plays : And Plays indeed they 
 are, truly fuch, if it be the End of Plays to de- 
 light and inftruct, to captivate at once the Ear, 
 the Eye, and the Mind, by Situations forcibly 
 conceived, and Characters truly delineated. 
 
 There is one Circumftance in Dramatick Po- 
 etry, which, I think, the chaftifed Notions of
 
 Old English Dramatick Writers, xxiii 
 
 our modern Criticks do not permit them furfici- 
 ently to coniider. Dramatick Nature is of a 
 more large and liberal Quality, than they are 
 willing to allow. It does not confift merely in 
 the Reprefentation of Real Characters, Charac- 
 ters acknowledged to abound in common Life ; 
 but may be extended alfo to the Exhibition of 
 imaginary Beings. To Create, is to be a Poet 
 indeed ; to draw down Beings from another 
 Sphere, and endue them with iuitable Paffions, 
 Affections, Difpofitions, allotting them at the 
 fame Time proper Employment ; to body forth, 
 by the Powers of Imagination, the Forms of 
 'Things unknown, and to give to airy Nothing a lo- 
 cal Habitation and a Name, furely requires a Ge- 
 nius for the Drama equal, if not fuperior, to the 
 Delineation of Perfonages in the ordinary Courfe 
 of Nature. Shakefpeare in particular is univer- 
 fally acknowledged never to have foared fo far 
 above the Reach of all other Writers, as in thole 
 Inftances, where he feems purpofely to have 
 tranfgrefled the Laws of Criticifm. He appears 
 to have difdained to put his free Soul into Cir^ 
 cumfcription and Confine, which denied his extra- 
 ordinary Talents their full Play, nor gave Scope 
 to the Boundleffnefs of his Imagination. His 
 Witches, Gholts, Fairies, and other imaginary 
 Beings, fcattered through his Plays, are ib many 
 glaring Violations of the common Table of Dra- 
 matick Laws. What then mall we fay ? Shall 
 we confefs their Force and Power over the Soul, 
 fhall we allow them to be Beauties of the moll 
 exquilite Kind, and yet infift on their being ex- 
 punged ? And why ? except it be to reduce the 
 Flights of an exalted Genius, by fixing the Stan-. 
 
 b 4
 
 xxiv Critical Reflections on the 
 
 dard of Excellence on the Practice of inferior 
 Writers, who wanted Parts to execute fuch great 
 Dcfigns ; or to accommodate them to the nar- 
 row Ideas of fmall Criticks, who want Souls 
 large enough to comprehend them ? 
 
 Our Old Writers thought no Perfonage what- 
 ever, unworthy a Place in the Drama, to which 
 they could annex what may be called a Sclty ; that 
 is, to which they could allot Manners and Em- 
 ployments peculiar to itfelf. The fevereit of the 
 Ancients cannot be more eminent for the con- 
 itant Prefervation of Uniformity of Character, 
 than Shahjpeare ; and Shake/peare, in no Inftance, 
 fupports his Characters with more Exactnefs, 
 than in the Conduct of his ideal Beings. The 
 Ghoft in Hamlet is a mining Proof of this Ex 
 cellence. 
 
 But, in Confequence of the Cuftoxn of tra- 
 cing the Events of a Play minutely from a No- 
 vel, the Authors were fometimes led to reprefent 
 a mere human Creature in Circumitances not 
 quite confonant to Nature, of a Difpoiition ra- 
 ther wild and extravagant, and in both Cafes 
 more efpecialjy repugnant to modern Ideas. This 
 Jadeed required particular Indulgence from the 
 Spectator, but it was an Indulgence, which fel- 
 dom miffed of being amply repaid. Let the 
 Writer but once be allowed, as a neceflary Da- 
 tum, the Poffibility of any Character's being pla- 
 ced in fuch a Situation, or pofTeit of fo peculiar 
 a Turn of Mind, the Behaviour of the Charac- 
 ter is perfectly natural. Shake fpcare\ though the 
 Child of Fancy, feldom or never dreft up a com-
 
 Old English Dramatick Writers, xxv 
 
 mon Mortal in any other than the modeir. Drefs 
 of Nature: But many mining Characters in the 
 Plays of Beaumont and Fletcher are not fo well 
 grounded on the Principles of the human Heart ; 
 and yet, as they were fupported with Spirit, they 
 were received with Applaufe. Shylcck's Contract, 
 with the Penalty of the Pound of Flefh, though 
 not Sha&ejpeare 9 s own Fiction, is perhaps rather 
 improbahle ; at leaf! it would not be regarded as 
 a happy Dramatick Incident in a modern Play ; 
 and yet, having once taken it for granted, how 
 beautifully, nay, how naturally, is the Charac- 
 ter fuftained ! Even this Objection therefore, of 
 a Deviation from Nature, great as it may feem, 
 will be found to be a Plea infufficient to excufe 
 the total Exclufion of our ancient Dramatifts 
 from the Theatre. Shahfpeare, you will readily 
 allow, poneft Beauties more than neceflary to 
 redeem his Faults ; Beauties that excite our Ad- 
 miration, and obliterate his Errors. True. But 
 did no Portion of that divine Spirit fall to the 
 Share of our other Old Writers ? And can their 
 Works be fupprefTed, or concealed, without In- 
 juilice to their Merit ? 
 
 One of the heft and moft pleafing Plays in 
 MaJJinger, and which, we are told, was origi- 
 nally received with general Approbation, is cal-r 
 led The Picture. The Fiction, whence it 
 takes its Title, and on which the Story of the 
 Play is grounded, may be collected from the fol- 
 lowing fhort Scene. Mathias, a Gentleman of 
 Bohemia, having taken an affecting Leave of his 
 Wife Sophia, with a Refolution of ferving in the 
 King of Hungary 's Army againft the Turks, is
 
 xxvi Critical Reflections on the 
 
 left alone on the Stage, and the Play goes on, as 
 
 follows : 
 
 Math. I am ftrangely troubled : Yet why mould I 
 nourifh 
 A Fury here, and with imagin'd Food ? 
 Having no real Grounds on which to raife 
 A Bjilding of Sufpicion fhe ever was, 
 Or enn be f'alfe hereafter ? I in this 
 But foolifhly inquire the Knowledge of 
 A future Sorrow, which, if I find out, 
 My pivfent Ignorance were a cheap P^chafe, 1 
 Tho' with my Lofs of Being. I have already 
 Dealt with a Friend of mine, a general Scholar, 
 One deeply read in Nature's hidden Secrets, 
 And (tho' with much Unwillingnefs) have won him 
 To do as much as Art can to relblve me 
 My Fate that Follows To my Willi he's come, 
 
 Enter Baptifta. 
 
 Julio Baptifta, now I may affirm 
 Your Promife and Performance walk together ; 
 And therefore, without Circumftance, to the Point, 
 Inftruct me what I am. 
 
 Bapt. I could wifh you had 
 Made Trial of my Love fome other Way. 
 Math. Nay, this is from the Purpofe. 
 Bapt. It you can 
 Proportion your defire to any Mean, 
 I do pronounce you happy : I have found, 
 By certain Rules of Art, your matchlefs Wife 
 Is to this prefent Hour from all Pollution 
 Free and untainted. 
 Math. Good. 
 Bapt. In Pveafon therefore 
 You mould fix here, and make no farther Search 
 Of what may fall hereafter. 
 
 Math, O Baptifta ! 
 'Tis not in me to matter fo my Paflions ;
 
 Old English Dramatick Writers, xxvii 
 
 I mufl know farther, or you have made good 
 But half your Promife. While my Love flood by, 
 Holding her upright, and my Pretence was 
 A Watch upon her, her Defires being met too 
 With equal Ardour from me, what one Proof 
 Could fhe give of her Conltancy, being untempted ? 
 But when 1 am abfent, and my coming back 
 Uncertain, and thofe wanton Heats in Women 
 Not to be quench'd by lawful Means, and fhe 
 The abfolute Difpofer of herfclf, 
 Without Controul or Curb ; nay more, invited 
 By Opportunity and all ftrong Temptations, 
 If then fhe hold out 
 
 Bapt. As no doubt me will. 
 
 Math. Thofe Doubts mult be made Certainties, Bap~ 
 tijla, 
 By your Aflurance, or your boafted Art 
 
 Deferves no Admiration. How you trifle , 
 
 And play with my Affliction ! I'm on 
 The Rack, till you confirm me, 
 
 Bapt. Sure, Mat bias, 
 I am no God, nor can I dive into 
 Her hidden Thoughts, or know what her Intents are; 
 That is deny'd to Art, and kept conceal'd 
 E'en from the Devils themfelves : They can but guefs, 
 Out of long Obfervation, what is likely ; 
 But pofitively to foretcl that this mail be, 
 You may conclude impoflible ; ail I can 
 I will do for you. When you arediflant from her 
 A thou land Leagues, as if you then were with her, 
 You (hall. know truly when (he is folicited, 
 And how far wrought on. 
 
 Math. I defire no more. 
 
 Bapt. Take then this little Model of Sophia, 
 With more than human Skill limn'd to the Life ; 
 Each Line and Lineament of it in the Drawing 
 So punctually. obferv'd, that, had it Motion, 
 In lo much 'twere herfelf. 
 
 Math. It is indeed 
 An admirable Piece ; but if it have not
 
 xxviii Critical Reflections on the 
 
 < 
 
 Some hidden Virtue that I cannot guefs at, 
 In what can it advantage me ? 
 
 llipt. I'll inftruct you. 
 Carry it ftill about you, and as oft 
 As you defire to know how flic's affected, 
 With curious Eyes perule it : While it keeps 
 The Figure it now has, entire and perfect, 
 She is not only innocent in Fact, 
 But unattempted ; but if once it vary 
 From the true Form, and what's now White and Red 
 Incline to Yellow, reftmoft confident 
 She's with all Violence courted, but unconquer'd. 
 But if it turn all Black, 'tis an Allurance 
 The Fort, by Compoution or Surprize, 
 Jfs fore'd, or with her free Confent furrender'd. 
 
 Nothing can be morcfantaftick, or more in 
 the extravagant Strain of the Italian Novels, 
 than this Fiction : And yet the Play, railed on 
 it, is extremely beautiful, abounds with af- 
 fecting Situations, true Character, and a faith- 
 ful Representation of Nature. The Story, thus 
 opened, proceeds as follows : Mathias departs, 
 accompanied by his Friend, and ferves as a Vo- 
 lunteer in the Hungarian Army againit the 'Turks, 
 A complete Victory being obtained, chiefly by 
 Means of his Valour, he is brought by the Ge- 
 neral to the Hungarian Court, where he not only 
 receives many Honours from the King, but cap- 
 tivates the Heart of the Queen ; whofe Pafiion 
 is not fo much excited by his known Valour or 
 perfonal Attractions, as by his avowed Conftancy 
 to his Wife, and his firm AfTurance of her reci- 
 procal Affection and Fidelity to him. Thefe 
 Circumftances touch the Pride, and raife the 
 Envy of the Queen. She refolves, therefore, to 
 deftroy His conjugal Faith by giving up Her
 
 Old English Dramatick Writers, xxix 
 
 Own, and determines to make Him a defperate 
 Offer of Her Perfon ; and, at the fame Time, 
 under Pretence of Notice of Mathias his being 
 detained for a Month at Court, She difpatches 
 two debauched young Noblemen to tempt the 
 Virtue of Sophia. Thefe Incidents occafion feve- 
 ral affecting Scenes both on the Part of the Huf- 
 band and Wife. Mathlas (not with an unnatu- 
 ral and untheatrical Stoicifm, but with the live- 
 lied Senfibility) nobly withstands the Tempta- 
 tions of the Queen. Sophia, tho' moll: virtu- 
 oufly attached to her Huiband, becomes uneafy 
 at the feigned Stories, which the young Lords 
 recount to her of his various Gallantries at Court, 
 and in a Fit of Jealoufy, Rage, and Refentment, 
 makes a momentary Refolution to give up her 
 Honour. While me is fuppofed to be yet under 
 the Dominion of this Refolution, occurs the 
 following Scene between the Huiband and his 
 Friend : 
 
 Mathias and Baptifla. 
 
 Bapt* We are in a defperate Straight ; there's no 
 Evafion, 
 Nor Hope left to come off, but by your yielding 
 To the Neceffity ; you muft feign a Grant 
 To her violent Pamon, or 
 
 Math. What, my Baptifta ? 
 
 Bapt. We are but dead elfe. 
 
 Math. Were the Sword now heav'd up, 
 And my Neck upon the Block, I would not buy 
 An Hour's Reprieve with the Lofs of Faith and Virtue, 
 To be made immortal here. Art thou a Scholar, 
 Nay, almoft without a Parallel, and yet fear 
 To die, which is inevitable ? You may urge 
 The many Years that by the Courfe of Nature 
 We may travel in this tedious Pilgrimage,
 
 xxx Critical Reflections on the 
 
 And hold it as a Blefling, as it is, 
 
 When Innocence is our Guide ; yet know, Baptifla, 
 
 Our Virtues are preferr'd before our Years, 
 
 By the Great Judge. To die untainted in 
 
 Our Fame and Reputation is the greatelr. ; 
 
 And to lofe that, can we defire to live ? 
 
 Or mall I, for a momentary Pleafure, 
 
 Which foon comes to a Period, to all Times 
 
 Have Breach of Faith and Perjury remembred 
 
 In a flill living Epitaph ? No, Baptifla, 
 
 Since my Sophia will go to her Grave 
 
 Unfpotted in her Faith, I'll follow her 
 
 W^ith equal Loyalty : but look on this, 
 
 Your own great Work, your Mafterpiece, and then 
 
 She being ftill the fame, teach me to alter. 
 
 Ha ! fure I do not fleep ! or, if I dream, 
 
 [The Piciure altered. 
 This is a terrible Virion ! I will clear 
 My Eyefight, perhaps Melancholy makes me 
 See that which is not. 
 
 Bapt. It is too apparent. 
 I grieve to look upon't ; befldes the Yellow, 
 That docs afiure (he's tempted, there are Lines 
 Of a dark Colour, that difperfe themfelves 
 O'er every Miniature of her Face, and thofe 
 
 Confirm 
 
 Math. She is turn'd Whore. 
 Bapt. I muft not fay fo. 
 Yet, as a Friend to Truth, if you will have me 
 Interpret it, in her Confent and Wifh.es, 
 She's falfe, but not in Fact yet. 
 
 Math. Fad! Bapfifia? 
 Make not yourfelf a Pander to her Loofenefs, 
 In labouring to palliate what a Vizard 
 Of Impudence cannot cover. Did e'er Woman 
 In her Will decline from Chafrity, but found Means 
 To give her hot Lull full Scope ? It is more 
 Polliblc in Nature for grofs Bodies 
 Descending of themfelves, to hang in the Air, 
 Or with my iingle Arm to underprop
 
 Old English Dramatick Writers, xxxi 
 
 A falling Tower ; nay, in its violent Courfe 
 To flop the Light'ning, than to Hay a Woman 
 Hurried by two Furies, Lull: and Falfehood, 
 In her full Career to Wickedncfs. 
 
 Bapt. Pray you, temper 
 The Violence of your Pafllon. 
 
 Math. In Extremes 
 Of this Condition, can it be in Man 
 To ufe a Moderation ? I am thrown 
 From a fteep Rock headlong into a Gulph 
 Of Mifery, and find myfelf pad Hope, 
 In the fame Moment that I apprehend 
 That I am falling. And this, the Figure of 
 My Idol, few Hours fince, while me continued 
 In her Perfection, that was late a Mirror, 
 In which I faw miraculous Shapes of Duty, 
 Staid Manners, with all Excellency a Hufband 
 Could wiih in a chafte Wife, is on the fudden 
 Turn'd to a magical Glafs, and does prefentj 
 Nothing but Horns and Horror. 
 
 Bapt. You may yet 
 (And 'tis the belt Foundation) build up Comfort 
 On your own Goodnefs. 
 
 Math, No, that hath undone me, 
 For now I hold my Temperance a Sin 
 Worfe than Excefs, and what was Vice a Virtue. 
 Have I refus'd a Queen, and fuch a Queen 
 ( Whofe ravifhing Beauties at the firfl Sight had tempted 
 A Hermit from his Beads, and chang'd his Prayers 
 To amorous Sonnets,) to preferve my Faith 
 Inviolate to Thee, with the Hazard of 
 My Death with Torture, fince me could inflict 
 No lefs for my Contempt, and have I met 
 Such a Return from Thee ? I will not curfe Thee, 
 Nor for thy Falfehood rail againfl the Sex ; 
 'Tis poor, and common ; I'll only with wife Men 
 Whilper unto myfelf, howe'er they feem, 
 Nor prefent, nor pad Times, nor the Age to come 
 Hath heretofore, can now, or ever ihali 
 Produce one conftant Woman.
 
 xxxii Critical Reflections on the 
 
 Bapt. This is more 
 Than the Satyrifts wrote againfl: 'em. 
 
 Math, There's no Language 
 That can exprefs the Poiibn of thcfe Afpicks, 
 Thefe weeping Crocodiles, and all too little 
 That hath been faid againfl 'em. But I'll mould 
 My Thoughts into another Form, and if 
 She can outlive the Report of what I've done, 
 This Hand, when next me comes within my Reach, 
 Shall be her Executioner. 
 
 The Fiction of The Picture being firft. allowed, 
 the mod rigid Critick will, I doubt not, confefs, 
 that the Workings of the human Heart are accu- 
 rately fet down in the above Scene. The Play 
 is not without many others, equally excellent, 
 both before and after it ; nor in thole Days, 
 when the Power of Magick was fo generally be- 
 lieved, that the fevereft Laws were folemnly 
 enacted againfl: Witches and Witchcraft, was the 
 Fiction fo bold and extravagant, as it may feem 
 at prefent. Hoping that the Reader may, by 
 by this Time, be ibmewhat reconciled to the 
 Story, or even interefted in it, I will venture to 
 fubjoin to the long Extracts I have already made 
 from this Play one more Speech, where The Pic- 
 ture is mentioned very beautifully. Math'ws ad- 
 dreffes himfelf to the Queen in thefe Words : 
 
 Math. To flip once 
 Is incident, and excus'd by human frailty ; 
 But to fall ever, damnable. We were both 
 Guilty, I grant, in tendering our Affection, 
 But, as I hope you will do, I repented. 
 When we are grown up to Ripenefs, our Life is 
 Like to this Picture. While we run 
 A conitant Race in Goodnefs, it retains 
 Thcjult Proportion. But the Journey being
 
 Old English Dramatick Writers, xxxiii 
 
 Tedious, and fweet Temptations in the Way, 
 That may in fome Degree divert us from 
 The Road that we put forth in, e'er we end 
 Our Pilgrimage, it may, like this, turn Yellow, 
 Or be with Blacknefs clouded. But when we 
 Find we have gone affray, and labour to 
 Return unto our never-failing Guide 
 Virtue, Contrition (with unfeigned Tears, 
 The Spots of Vice wafh'd off) will foon reftore it 
 To the firft Purenefs. 
 
 These feveral Paffages will, I hope, be thought 
 by the judicious Reader to be written in the free 
 Vein of a true Poet, as well as by the exact Hand 
 of a faithful Difciple of Nature. If any of the 
 above Arguments, or, rather, the uncommon 
 Excellence of the great Writers themfelves, can 
 induce the Critick to allow the Excurfions of 
 Fancy on the Theatre, let him not fuppofe that 
 he is here advifed to fubmit to the Perverfion of 
 Nature, or to admire thofe who overleap the 
 modeft Bounds, which fhe has prefcribed to the 
 Drama. I will agree with him, that Plays, 
 wherein the Truth of Dramatick Character is 
 violated, can convey neither Initruction nor De- 
 light. Shakefpeare, Jonfon, Beaumont and Fletcher, 
 Mafjinger, &c. are guilty of no fuch Violation. 
 Indeed the heroick Nonfenfe, which over-runs 
 the Theatrical Productions of Dryden *, Howard, 
 
 * Nobody can have a truer Veneration for the Poetical Ge- 
 nius of Dryden^ than the Writer of thefe Reflections , but 
 furely that Genius is no where fo much cbfcured, notwith- 
 standing fome tranfient Gleams, as in his Plays; of which 
 He had Himfelf no great Opinion, fince the only Plea He 
 ever urged in their Favour, was, that the Town had received 
 widi Applaufe Plays equally bad. Nothing, perhaps, buKtJis 
 
 Vol,. I. C
 
 xxxiv Critical Reflections on the 
 
 and the other illuftrious Prototypes of Bayes in 
 the Rehearfal, muft nauieate the mcft indulgent 
 Spectator. The temporary Rage of falle Tafte 
 may perhaps betray the Injudicious into a foolifli 
 Admiration of fuch Extravagance for a (hort Pe- 
 riod : But how will thele Plays ftand the Brunt 
 of critical Indignation, when the Perfonages of 
 the Drama are found to refemble no Characters 
 in Nature, except, perhaps, the difordered In- 
 habitants of Bedlam? 
 
 If then it muft. be confefTed both from Reafon 
 and Experience, that we can not only endure, 
 but attend with Pleafure to Plays, which are al- 
 moit. merely Dramatick Representations of ro- 
 mantick Novels ; it will furely be a further In- 
 ducement to recur to the Works of our Old Wri- 
 ters, when we find among them many Pieces 
 written on a feverer Plan ; a Plan, more accom- 
 modated to real Life, and approaching more 
 nearly to the modern Ufage. The Merry Wives of 
 Windfor of Shakefpeare, The Fox, The Alchymijl, 
 The Silent JVoman, Every Man in his Humour of 
 Jonfon, The New JVay to pay Old Debts, the City 
 Madam of MaJJinger, &c, &c. all urge their Claim 
 for a Rank in the ordinary Courfeof our Winter 
 Evening Entertainments, not only clear of every 
 Objection made to the above-mentioned Species 
 
 abfurd Notion of Heroick Plays, could have carried the im 
 mediate SuccefTors to the Old Clafs of Writers into fuch ri- 
 diculous Contradictions to Nature. That I may not appear 
 fingular in my Opinion of Drydea's Dramatick Pieces, I muft 
 beg Leave to refer the Reader to tht Rambler, No. 125, where 
 that judicious Writer has produced divers Inftances from Dry- 
 den 's Plays, firfficient (to ufe the Rambler s own Language) U 
 aivaken the moji torpid RiJtbiUty.
 
 Old English Dramatick Writers, xxxr 
 of Dramatick Composition, but adhering more 
 ftriclly to ancient Rule6, than mofl of our later 
 Comedies. 
 
 In Point of Character, (perhaps the mofl ef- 
 fential Part or* the Drama) our Old Writers far 
 trarifcend the Moderns. It is furely needlefs, in 
 Support of this Opinion, to recite a long lift of 
 Names, when the Memory of every Reader muft 
 fuggefl them to himfelf. The Manners of many 
 of them, it is true, do not prevail at prefent. 
 What then ? Is it difplealing or uninflru&ive to 
 lee the Manners of a former Age pafs in Review 
 before us ? Or is the Mind undelighted at recal- 
 ling the Characters of our Anceflors, while the 
 Eve is confeffedly gratified at the Sight of the 
 Actors drefl in their antique Habits ? Moreover, 
 Fafhion and Cuflom are fo perpetually fluctua- 
 ting, that it mult be a very accurate Piece indeed, 
 and one quite new and warm from the Anvil, 
 that catches the Damon or Cynthia of this Mi- 
 nute. Some Plays of our latefl and moil fafhi- 
 onable Authors are grown as obfolete in this Par- 
 ticular, as thofe of the firfl Writers ; and it may 
 with Safety be affirmed, that Bobadil is not more 
 remote from modern Character, than the ever* 
 admired and every-where-to-be-met-with Lord 
 Foppington. It may, alfo, be further considered, 
 that mofl of the befl Characters in our old Plays, 
 are not merely fugitive and temporary. They 
 are not the fudden Growth of Yeflerday or To-- 
 day, fure of fading or withering To-morrow ; 
 but they were the Delight of pafl Ages, flill con- 
 tinue the Admiration of the prefent, and (to ufe 
 the Language of true Poetry) 
 
 c 3
 
 xxxvi Critical Reflections on the 
 
 -To Ages yet unborn appeal, 
 
 Andlateit Times th' eternal Nature feel. 
 
 The Actor. 
 
 There is one Circumftance peculiar to the 
 Dramatick Tales, and to many of the more re- 
 gular Comedies of our old Writers, of which it 
 is too little to fay, that it demands no Apology. 
 It deferves the higheft Commendation, fince it 
 hath been the Means of introducing the molt ca- 
 pital Beauties into their Compolitions, while 
 the fame Species of Excellence could not 
 poiiibly enter thofe of a later Period. I mean 
 the Poetical Stile of their Dialogue. Molt Na- 
 tions, except our own, have imagined mere 
 Prole, which, with Moiieres Bourgeois Gent/1- 
 homme, the meaneft of us have talked from our 
 Cradle, too little elevated for the Language of 
 fhe Theatre. Our Neighbours, the French, at 
 this Day write moit of their Plays, Comedies as 
 well as Tragedies, in Rhime ; a Gothick Practice, 
 which our own Stage once admitted, but long 
 ago wifely rejected. The Grecian Iambick was 
 more happily conceived in the true Spirit of that 
 elegant and magnificent Simplicity, which cha- 
 racterized the Tafre of that Nation. Such a 
 Meafure was well accommodated to the Expref- 
 fions of the Mind, and though it refined indeed 
 on Nature, it did not contradict it. In this, as 
 well as in all other Matters of Literature,, the 
 Ufage of Greece was religioufly obferved at Rome. 
 Phiutus, in his rich Vein of Humour, is nume- 
 rous and poetical. The Comedies of 'Terence, 
 though we cannot agree to read them after Bi-
 
 Old English Dramattck Writers, xxxvii 
 
 fhop Hare, were evidently not written without 
 Regard to Meafure; which is the invincible Rea^ 
 fon, why all Attempts to render them into 
 downright Profe have always proved, and ever 
 muft prove, unfuccefsful ; and if a faint Effort, 
 now under Contemplation, to give a Vernon of 
 them in familiar Blank Verfe (after the Manner 
 of our Old Writers, but without a fervile Imita- 
 tion of Them) mould fail, it muft, I am confi- 
 dent, be owing to the Lamenefs of the Execu- 
 tion. The ILngliJh Heroick Meafure, or, as it is 
 commonly called, Blank Verfe, is perhaps of 
 a more happy Conflruclion, even than the Gre- 
 cian Iambick ; elevated equally, but approach- 
 ing nearer to the Language of Nature, and as 
 well adapted to the Expremon of Comick Hu- 
 mour, as to the Pathos of Tragedy. 
 
 The mere modern Critick, whofe Idea of- 
 Blank Verfe is perhaps attached to that empty 
 Swell of Phrafeology, fo frequent in our late 
 Tragedies, may conlider thefe Notions as the Ef- 
 fect of Bigotry to our old Authors, rather than 
 the Refult of impartial Criticifm. Let fuch an 
 one carefully read over the Works of thofe Wri- 
 ters, for which I am an Advocate. There he 
 will feldom or ever find that Tumour of Blank 
 Verfe, to which he has been fo much accuftom- 
 ed. He will be furprifed with a familiar Dig- 
 nity, which, though it rifes fomewhat above or- 
 dinary Converfation, is rather an Improvement . 
 than Perverfion of it. He will foon be convin- 
 ced, that Blank Verfe is by no Means appropri- 
 ated folely to the Buikin, but that the Hand of 
 a Mafter may mould it to whatever Purpoles he 
 
 c 1
 
 xxxvhi Critical Reflections on the 
 
 pleafes ; and that in Comedy, it will not only 
 admit Humour, but heighten and embellifh it. 
 Inftances might be produced without Number. 
 It mutt however be lamented, that the Modern 
 Trngick Stile, free, indeed, from the mad Flights 
 of Drydettj and his Contemporaries, yet departs 
 equally from Nature. I am apt to think it is in 
 great Meafure owing to the almoft total Exclu- 
 sion of Blank Verfe from all modern Compofi- 
 tions. Tragedy excepted.' The common Uie of 
 an Elevated Diction in Comedy, where the Wri- 
 ter was often, of Neceflity, put upon expreffing 
 the molt ordinary Matters, and where the Sub- 
 ject demanded him to paint the moil ridiculous 
 Emotions of the Mind, was perhaps one of the 
 chief Caufes of that eafy Vigour, fo confpicuous 
 in the Stile of the old Tragedies. Habituated 
 to Poetical Dialogue in thofe Compofitions, 
 wherein They were obliged to adhere more 
 ftrictly to the Simplicity of the Language of Na- 
 ture, the Poets leaint, in thofe of a more raifed 
 Species, not to depart from it too wantonly. 
 They were well acquainted alfo with the Force 
 as well as Elegance of their Mother-Tongue, 
 and chofe to uie iuch Words as may be called 
 Natives of the Language, rather than to harmo- ' 
 nize their Verles, and agonize the Audience with 
 Latin Terminations. Whether the refined Stile 
 of Addifons Cato, and the flowing Verification 
 of Rowe firft occafiuned this Departure from an- 
 cient Simplicity, it is difficult to determine : but 
 it is too true, that Southerne was the laft of our 
 Dramatick Writers, who was, in any Degree, 
 poiieft of that magnificent Plainnefs, which is 
 the genuine Drels of Nature ; though indeed 
 the Plays of Rowe are more fimple than any cf
 
 Old English Dramatick; Writers, xxxix 
 
 his Succeffbrs. It mufl not however be diflem- 
 bled in this Place, that the Stileof our Old Wri- 
 ters is not without Faults ; that They were apt 
 to give too much into Conceits ; that they often 
 puriued an allegorical Train of Thoughts too 
 far ; and were fometimes betrayed into forced, 
 unnatural, quaint, or gigantick Exprefiions. In 
 the Works of Shakefpeare himfelf, every one of 
 thefe Errors may be found ; yet it may be fafely 
 aflerted, that no other Author, ancient or mo- 
 dern, has exprefled himfelf on fuch a Variety of 
 Subjects, with more Eafe, and in a Vein more 
 truly poetical, unlefs, perhaps, we mould except 
 Homer-. Of which, by the bye, the deepen 1 Cri- 
 tick, molt converfant with Idioms and Dialects, 
 is not quite a competent Judge. 
 
 I would not be underftood, by what I have 
 here laid of Poetical Dialogue, to object to the 
 Uie of Profe, or to infinuate that our modern 
 Comedies are the worfe for being written in that 
 Stile. It is enough for me, to have vindicated 
 the Ufe of a more elevated Manner among our 
 Old Writers. I am well aware that moil Parts 
 of Faljlaff, Ford, Benedick, Maholio, &c. . are 
 written in Profe ; nor indeed would I counfel a 
 modern Writer to attempt the Ufe of Poetical 
 Dialogue in a mere Comedy : A Dramatick Tale, 
 indeed, checquered, like Life itfelf, with various 
 Incidents, ludicrous and affecting, if written by 
 a mafterly Hand, and fomewhat more feverely 
 than thole above-mentioned, would, I doubt not, 
 ftill be received with Candour and Applaufe. 
 The Public would be agreeably furprifed with 
 the Revival of Poetry on the Theatre, and the 
 Opportunity of employing all the belt Perfor- 
 
 c 4
 
 xl Critical Reflections on the 
 
 mers, ferious as well as comick, in one Piece, 
 would render it ftill more likely to make a favou- 
 rable Impreflion on the Audience. There is a 
 Gentleman, not unequal to luch a Tafk, who 
 who was once tempted to begin a Piece of this 
 Sort ; but, I fear, he has too much Love of Eafe 
 and Indolence, and too little Ambition of lite- 
 rary Fame, ever to complete it. 
 
 But to conclude : 
 
 Have I, Sir, been wafting all this Ink and 
 Time in vain ? Or may it be hoped, that you 
 will extend fome of that Care to the reft of our 
 Old Authors, which you have fo often lavifhed 
 on many a worfe Writer, than the moft inferior 
 of thofe here recommended to You ? It is cer- 
 tainly your Intereft to give Variety to the Pub- 
 lick Tafte, and to diverfify the Colour of our 
 Dramatick Entertainments. Encourage new 
 Attempts; but do Juftice to the Old! The 
 Theatre is a wide Field. Let not one or two 
 Walks of it alone be beaten, but lay open the 
 Whole to the Excurftons of Genius ! This, per- 
 haps, might kindle a Spirit of Originality in our 
 modern Writers for the Stage; who might be 
 tempted to aim at more Novelty in their Com- 
 poiitions. when the Liberality of the Popular 
 Tafte rendered it lets hazardous. That the Nar- 
 rovvnefs of theatrical Criticilm might be enlarged 
 I have no Doubt. Refled, for a Moment, on 
 the uncommon Succefs of Romeo and Juliet , and 
 Every Man in his Humour! and then tell me, 
 whether there are not many other Pieces of as 
 ancient a Date, which, with the proper Curtail- 
 ments and Alterations, would produce the fame
 
 Old English Dramatick Writers. xli 
 Effect? Has an induitrious Hand been at the 
 Pains to fcratch up the Dunghill of Drydetfs Am- 
 phitryon for the few Pearls that are buried in it, 
 and lhall the rich Treafures of Beaumont and 
 Fletcher, Jonfon, and Majjinger, lie (as it were) 
 in the Ore, untouched and dilregarded ? Reform 
 your Lift of Plays ! In the Name of Burbage, 
 'Taylor, and Betterton, I conjure you to it ! Let 
 the Veteran Criticks'once more have the Satis- 
 faction of feeing The Maid's Tragedy, Philajler, 
 King and no King, &c. on the Stage! Reftorc 
 Fletcher s Elder Brother to the Rank unjuftly 
 ufurped by Cibbers Love makes a Man ! and fince 
 you have wifely denfted from giving an annual 
 Affront to the City, by acting The London Cue- 
 holds on Lord Mayor's Day, why will you not 
 pay them a Compliment, by exhibiting The City 
 Madam of Majjinger on the fame Occalion } 
 
 If after all, Sir, thefe Remonltrances mould 
 prove without Effect, and the Merit of the great 
 Authors mould plead- with You in vain, i will 
 here fairly turn my Back upon you, and addrefs 
 myfelf to the Lovers of Dramatick Compontions 
 in general. They, I am fure, will peruie thofe 
 Works with Pleafure in the Clofet, though they 
 lofe the Satisfaction of feeing them reprefented 
 on the Stage : Nay, fhould They, together with 
 You, concur in determining that fuch Pieces are 
 unfit to be acted, You, as well as They, will, 
 I am confident, agree that fuch Pieces are, 
 at leaft, very worthy to be read. There are 
 many Modern Compontions, feen with Delight 
 at the Theatre, which ficken on the Tafte in the 
 Perufal ; and the honeit Country Gentleman, 
 who has not been prefent at the Reprefentation,
 
 lxii Critical Reflections on the 
 wonders with what his London Friends have been 
 fo highlv entertained, and is as much perplexed 
 at the Town-manner of Writing as Mr. Smith in 
 The Rehear/at. The Excellencies of our Old 
 Writers are, on the contrary, not confined to 
 Time and Place, but always bear about them 
 the Evidences of true Genius. 
 
 MaJJinger is perhaps the leaft known, but not 
 the lead meritorious of any of the old Clafs of 
 Writers. His Works declare him to be no mean 
 Proficient in the fame School. He pofleffes all the 
 Beauties and Blemifhes common to the Writers 
 of that Age. He has, like the reft of them, in 
 Compliance with the Cuftom of the Times, ad- 
 mitted Scenes of a low and grofs Nature, which 
 might be omitted with no more Prejudice to the 
 Fable, than the BufFoonry in Venice Preferred. 
 For his few Faults he makes ample Atonement. 
 His Fables are, moft of them, affecting ; his 
 Characters well conceived, and ftrongly lupport- 
 ed ; and his Diction, flowing, various, elegant, 
 and manly. His two Plays, revived by Better* 
 ton, The Bondman and The Roman Adlor, are not, 
 I think, among the Number of his beft. The 
 Duke of Milan, The Renegado, The Picture, The 
 Fatal Dowry, The Maid of Honour, A New Way 
 to pay Old Debts, The Unnatural Combat, The Guar- 
 dian, The City Madam, are each of them, in my 
 Mind, more excellent. He was a very popular 
 Writer in his own Times, but fo unaccountably, 
 as well as unjuftly, neglected at prefent, that the 
 accurate Compilers of a Work, called The Lives of 
 the Poets, publifhed under the learned Name of 
 the late Mr. Theophilus Gibber, have not fo much 
 as mentioned him. He is, however, take him
 
 Old English Dramatick Writers, xliii 
 
 for all in all, an Author^ whofe Works the intel- 
 ligent Reader will perufe with Admiration: And, 
 that I may not be fuppofed to withdraw my Plea 
 for his Ad million to the Modern Stage, I (hall 
 conclude thefe Reflections with one more Speci- 
 men of his Abilities ; fubmitting it to all Judges 
 of Theatrical Exhibitions, whether the moil 
 mafterly Actor would not here have an Opportu- 
 nity of difplaying his Powers t Advantage. 
 
 The Extract I mean to fubjoin is from the laft 
 Scene of the firft Act of "The Duke cf Milan. ~M 
 Sforza, having efpoufed the Caufe of the King of 
 France againfr. the Emperor, on the King^s De- 
 feat", is advifed by a Friend, to yield himielf up 
 to the Emperor's Discretion. He confents to this 
 Mcafure, but provides for his Departure in the 
 following Manner ; 
 
 Sfor, Stay you Francifco. 
 
 You fee how things Hand with me? 
 
 Fran. To my Grief : 
 And if the Lois of my poor Life could be 
 A Sacrifice, to reftore them as they were, 
 J willingly would lay it down. 
 
 Sfor. I think fo ; 
 For I have ever found you true and thankful, 
 Which makes me love the building I have raifed. 
 In your Advancement ; and repent no Grace, 
 I have confer'd upon you : And, believe me, 
 Tho' now Iihould repeat my Favours to you, 
 1 he Titles I have given you, and the Means - 
 Suitable to your Honours ; that I thought ytSH' , 
 Worthy my Sifter, and my family, 
 And in my Dukedom made you ne>;t myfelf ; 
 It is not to upbraid you ; but to tell you 
 I find you're worthy of them, in your love 
 And Service to me.
 
 xliv Critical Reflections on the 
 
 Fran. Sir, I am your Creature ; 
 And any Shape that you would have me wear, 
 I gladly will put on. 
 
 Sfor. Thus, then, Francifco; 
 I now am to deliver to your truft 
 A weighty Secret, of fo ftrange a Nature, 
 And 'twill, I know, appear fo monftrous to you, 
 That you will tremble in the Execution, 
 As much as I am tortur'd to command it : 
 For 'tis a Deed fo horrid, that but to hear it, 
 Would flrike into a Ruffian fleih'd in Murthers, 
 Or an obdurate Hangman, foft Compaflion ; 
 And yet, Francifco (of all Men the deareft, 
 And from me mod deferving) fuch my State 
 And ftrange Condition is, that Thou alone 
 Muft know the fatal Service, and perform it. 
 
 Fran. Thefe Preparations, Sir, to work a Stranger, 
 Or to one unacquainted with your Bounties, 
 Might appear ufeful ; but, to Me, they are 
 Needlefs Impertinencies .: For I dare do 
 Whate'er You dare command. 
 
 Sfor. But thou muft fwear it. 
 And put into thy Oath, all Joys, or Torments 
 That fright the Wicked, or confirm the Good : 
 Not to conceal it only (that is nothing) 
 But, when foe 'er my Will fhall fpeak, ftrike now ! 
 To fall upon't like Thunder. 
 
 Fran. Minifter 
 The Oath in any Way, or Form you pleafe, 
 I (land refolv'd to take it. 
 
 Sfor. Thou muft do, then, 
 What no malevolent Star will dare to look on, 
 It is fo wicked : For which, Men will curfe Thee 
 For being the Inftrument ; and the bleft Angels 
 Forfake Me at my Need for being the Author: 
 For 'tis a Deed of Night, of Night, Francifco, 
 In which the Memory of all good Actions, 
 We can pretend to, fhall be buried quick : 
 Or, if we be remember'd, i: fhall be 
 To fright Pofterity by our Example,
 
 Old English Dramatick Writers. xlv 
 
 That have outgone all Precedents of Villains 
 
 That were before us ; and fuch as fucceed, 
 
 Tho' taught in Hell's black School, fhall ne'er come 
 
 near us. 
 Art thou not fhaken yet ? 
 
 Fran. I grant you move me : 
 But to a Man confirm'd 
 
 Sfor. I'll try your Temper : 
 What think you of my Wife ? 
 
 Fran. As a Thing facred : 
 To whofe fair Name, and Memory, I pay gladly 
 Thefe Signs of Duty: [Kneels* 
 
 Sfor. Is me. not an Abftract 
 Of all that's rare, or to be wifh'd in Woman ? 
 
 Ft;an. It were a Kind of Blafphemy to difpute it : 
 But to the Purpofe, Sir. 
 
 Sfor. Add too her Goodnefs, 
 Her Tendernefs of I me, her Care to pleafe me, 
 Herunfufpected Chaftity, ne'er equal'd, 
 Her Innocence, her Honour O I am loft 
 In the Ocean of her Virtues and her Graces, 
 When I think of them. 
 
 Fran. Now I find the End 
 Of all your Conjurations : There's fome Service 
 To be done for this fweet Lady. If me have Enemies 
 That ihe would have remov'd 
 
 Sfor. Alas ! Francifco, , 
 Her greateft Enemy is her greatefl Lover ; 
 Yet, in that Hatred, her Idolator. 
 One Smile of hers would make a Savage tame ; 
 One Accent of that Tongue would calm the Seas, 
 Tho' all the Winds at once ftrive there for Empire. " 
 Yet I, for whom me thinks all this too little, 
 Should I mifcarry in this prefent Journey, 
 (From whence it is all Number. to a Cypher, 
 I ne'er return with Honour) by thy Hand 
 Muft have her murther'd... 
 
 Fran. Murther'd ! She that loves fo, 
 And fo deferves to be belov'd again ? 
 And I, who fometimes you were pleas'd to favour, 
 Pick'd out the Initrument ?
 
 xlvi Critical Reflections, tic* 
 
 Sfor. Do not fly off: 
 What is decreed, can never be retailed* 
 J Tis more than Love to Her, that marks her out 
 A wifh'd Companion to me, in both Fortunes : 
 And ftrong Affurance of thy zealous Faith, 
 That gives up to thy Truft a Secret* that 
 Racks mould not have forc'd from me. O Frantifco^ 
 There is no Heav'n without Her ; nor a Hell 
 Where She refides. I afk from her but Juftice, 
 And what I would have paid to Her, had Sicknefs* 
 Or any other Accident divore'd 
 Her purer Soul from her unfpotted Body. 
 The flavifh Indian Princes, when they die, 
 Are chearfully attended to the Fire 
 By the Wife, and Slave, that living they lov'd beft, 
 To do them Service in another World : 
 Nor will I be lefs honour'd, that love more* 
 And therefore trifle not, but in thy Looks 
 Exprefs a ready Purpofe to perform 
 What I command ; or, by Marcelia's Soul, 
 This is thy lateft Minute. 
 
 Fran. 'Tis not Fear 
 Of Death, but Love to you, makes me embrace it. 
 But, for mine own Security, when 'tis done, 
 What Warrant have I } If you pleafe to fign one, 
 I fhall, tho' with Unwillingnefs and Horror, 
 Perform your dreadful Charge. 
 
 Sfor. I will, Francifco : 
 But ftill remember, that a Prince's Secrets 
 Are Balm, conceal'd; but Poifon, if difcover'd. 
 I may come back ; then this is but a Trial 
 To purchafe thee, if it were poffible, 
 A nearer Place in my Affection but 
 I know thee honeft. 
 
 Fran. 'Tis a Character 
 I will not part with. 
 
 Sfor, I may live to reward it* [Exeunt,
 
 / I 
 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT 
 
 O F T H E 
 
 LIFE 
 
 O F 
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER.
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE 
 
 O F 
 PHILIP MASSINGER- 
 
 THOUGH Mdffinger\ Claim to art emU 
 nent Rank amongft the Englim Drama- 
 tick Writers has never been contested, and the 
 Criticks have placed him immediately after 
 Sbakejpeare, B. Jonfon^ Beaumont and Fletcher; 
 notwithftanding we have certain Evidence that 
 his Plays were much applauded in their Re- 
 prefentation, and warmly commended by co- 
 temporary Writers, yet fuch . has been the 
 unaccountable Fate of this excellent Author, 
 that the Name of Mqffinger, till within thefe 
 twenty Years, has been funk in Obfcurity, 
 and almoft buried in Oblivion. None of our 
 Stage Poets, from the Reftoration to the Be- 
 ginning of his prefent Majefry's Reign, have 
 taken the lcaft Notice of him 01 his Writings *. 
 Vol. I. d The 
 
 * In the Year 1751 Propofals were printed for a new 
 Edition of Majjuigcr'% Works with Notes and Obfcrvations 
 
 in
 
 1 The LIFE of 
 
 The Silence of Dryden is not to be accounted 
 for on any Principle of Reafon or Juftice. But 
 indeed the Man who could treat Shirley with 
 fuch Contempt as to rank him with the 
 Dunces. of his Macfleckno, might wiilk to ftifle 
 the Memory of a Writer, who was as much 
 fuperior to him in Dramatick Excellence, as 
 Dryden himfelf was above all other Writers of 
 his Time, in the Vigour, Harmony and Va- 
 riety of his Numbers. 
 
 Mr. Rowe has paid Maffingeravery great Com- 
 pliment indeed, but it mufi be granted that it is 
 at the Expence of his own Candour and Honefty. 
 In his Tragedy of the Fair Penitent, he con- 
 defcended to fteal the Plot, Characters,, and 
 fometimes the Sentiments of the Fatal Dow- 
 ry. But this Conduct was as weak as if 
 was unfair; for a fmall Acknowledgement 
 of his Obligations to the original Author would 
 not only have faved him from the Difgrace of 
 a fhameful Detection, but have made that a,. 
 legal Prize which is now an Act of Piracy. 
 
 We* are told indeed, that Rowe lived in the 
 Days of literary filching ; when Plagiarifm was 
 a fafhionable Trick amongft Authors. Such an 
 
 in five Volumes i2mo, at the moderate Price of Two Shil- 
 lings and Sixpence per Volume, but the Sublcviption went 
 on i'o llowly that the Project was dropt. 
 
 * It was the Fafhion with the Wits of the laft Age to 
 conceal the Places from whence they took their Hints or 
 their Subjects. 
 
 Goldfmitb\ Life of Parnell. 
 
 Excufe
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. 11 
 
 Excufe I think ought no more to be admitted 
 in the Courts of Parnaffus, than a Robber's jus- 
 tifying his Thefts by the great Number of 
 his Aflbciates and Companions, would be al- 
 lowed to be a good Plea in Wejlminfler Hall or 
 at the Old Bailey. 
 
 The little that can be known of MaJJinger, 
 I have principally gleaned from the fcanty 
 Materials which Antony Wood, in his Athena 
 Oxonienjes, and Mr. Langbaine in his Lives of 
 the Dramatick Poets, have afforded me. That 
 curious and laborious Searcher into Hiftory, 
 Biography and Antiquities, Mr. John Oldys, m 
 his MS. Notes on Langbaine's Poets, has point- 
 ed out lome Miftakes of both thefe Authors 
 reflecting MaJJinger, and has fometimes fug- 
 gefted Matter of Intelligence not unworthy of 
 Notice. To Mr. Reed of Staples Inn I am in- 
 debted for the frank Communication of thefe 
 MS. Notes, a complete Lift of the various 
 Editions of Mqffingers Plays, and feveral ufeful 
 Hints relating to him and his Works. 
 
 Philip Majinger, the Son of* Philip Majin- 
 ger, a Servant belonging to the Family of 
 Pembroke, was born at Salijbury in the Year 
 1584. He was entered a Commoner at St. 
 
 * I cannot guefs from what Information Oldys in his MS. 
 Notes gives the Chrijiian Name of Arthur to Ma/finger's Fa- 
 ther; nor why he ihould reproach Wood for calling him 
 Philip ; iince MaJJinger himlelf, in the Dedication of the 
 Bondman to the Karl of Montgomery, fays exprefsly that hi 
 Father Philip MaJJinger lived and died in the Service of the 
 Honourable Home of Pembroke. 
 
 d 2 Albans
 
 lii the LIFE of 
 
 Albari \y Hall, Oxford, in the ieventeenth Year of 
 his Age, in 1601 ; where, though encourage d in 
 his Studies by the Earl of Pembroke, yet, fays 
 Wood, he applied his Mind more to Poetry and 
 Romances for ahout four Years or more than 
 to Logick and Philofophy, which he ought to 
 have done, as he was patronized to that End. 
 
 By fty.ling Ma/finger's Father a Servant, IVood 
 did not, I fuppoie, intend to convey any Mark 
 of Degradation, or any other Meaning than 
 that he was a Gentleman of the Earl of Pem- 
 broke Retinue. It is certain that, in the Year 
 1597, he was employed hy that Nohleman as a 
 Meffenger on no trifling Butinefs to Queen Eli- 
 zabeth, whofe Character would admit of nothing 
 unimportant or infignirlcant in her Service. A- 
 mongft the Sydney Papers, published hy Collins, 
 there is "a Letter of Rowland IVhite, Efq; to 
 Sir Robert Sydney, in which he acquaints him 
 that Mr. Mafinger was newly come from the 
 Earl of Pembroke with Letters to the Queen for 
 his Lordfhip's Leave of Ablencc on St. George's- 
 Day. This carries a coniiderable Proof that 
 the Bearer of Letters to Elizabeth , on a Matter 
 perhaps which me thought important, was no 
 mean Perfon ; for no Monarchever exacted from 
 the Nobility in general, and the Officers of State 
 in particular, a more rigid and fcrupulous Com- 
 pliance to fhited Order than this Princefs. 
 
 A different Relation of Maffmger\ College 
 Education is gi\ en hy Langbaine: He informs 
 us, that MaJ/inger's Father was a Gentleman be- 
 longing
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. liii 
 
 longing to the Earl of Montgomery*, in whofe 
 Service, after having lived many Years, he 
 
 * Langbaine has committed a Mi {lake rcfpe&irig the Title 
 of Montgomery, which did not belong to the Family 'of Pem- 
 broke till the Deceafe of William Earl of Pembroke, who died 
 1630. Clarendon, in his Character of Philip Earl of Mont- 
 gomery, who was afterwards Patron to Maffinger, informs us 
 that he was very young when 'JamesX. came to the Crown ; 
 that he was taken with Lord Herbert 's Comlinefs of Perfon, 
 and his Skill in Riding and Hunting; and that after be- 
 flowing many Honours upon him, he created him in 1605, 
 Earl of Montgomery. But Clarendon perhaps did not know 
 the real Caui'e of Lord Herbert's Advancement. The Be- 
 lla viour of the' Scots to the EngliJI) on J tunes' % Acceilion to 
 the Throne of England was generally obnoxious and much 
 relented. At a Meeting of Engli/h and Scotch Gentlemen, 
 at a Horfe Race near Croyden, a fudden Quarrel arofe between 
 them, occafioned by one Mr. Ramfays flriking Philip Lord 
 Herbert in the Face with a Switch. The Englifo would 
 have lb far refented this Affront, as to have made inflantly 
 a national Quarrel of the Matter; and one Gentleman, 
 Mr.. Pinchbeck, rode about the Field with a Dagger in his 
 Hand, crying out, * Let us break our Fajl with them here^ 
 and dine -with them in London? But Herbert not relenting this 
 contumacious Behaviour of Ramfay, the King was fo charm- 
 ed with his peaceable Difpofition, that he made him a 
 Knight, a Baron, a Vifcount and an Earl, all in one Day. 
 Ojbome, from whom I tranferibe this, and who lived during 
 thefe TranfaftionSj intimates, that Herbert's Cowardice pre- 
 vented not only that Day from being fatal to the Scots, but 
 ever after through all England. The Mother of Herbert, 
 the renowned Coimtefs of Pembroke, to whom Sir Philip 
 Sydney, hsr Brother, dedicated his Arcadia, tore her Hair 
 when fhe heard the News of her Son's Pifhonour. It is 
 certainly more probable, that King "James ihould raife Her- 
 bert to the Title of Earl for this paciflck Behaviour, which 
 prevented a national Quarrel, than that he fhould confer 
 that Honour upon him merely for his handfeme Face ; more 
 elpecially as he was never lulpc&ed lo be a Minion of 
 "James. 
 
 d 3 died ;
 
 liv fbe LIFE of 
 
 died ; that he beftowed a liberal Education on 
 his Son, fending him to the Univerfity of Ox- 
 ford at the Age of Eighteen, in 1602, where he 
 clofely purfued his Studies in Alban Hall for 
 three or four Years. 
 
 The Accounts of Wood and Langbalne are fo 
 contradictory, that it is impofiible to reconcile 
 them. Nor can we, perhaps, decide perempto- 
 rily which of thefe Guides we fhould follow. 
 Both were diligent Inveftigators of Truth, and 
 both we fhould imagine to be equally capable 
 of getting fuch Materials as were fufficient to 
 authenticate their Narratives. But, after feri- 
 oufly balancing their Merits, I believe the Rea- 
 der will be inclined to juftify my preferring 
 the Authority of Wood to Langbalne. The for- 
 mer lived nearer the Times of Mqffinger than 
 the latter ; he was constantly refident at Oxford, 
 and had the beft Opportunities to know in 
 what Manner the Students then profecuted their 
 Studies. Befldes, it was a Practice familiar to 
 our ancient Nobility, to patronize and educate 
 the Children of Gentlemen who formed their 
 ^Retinue. The illuftrious Houfe of Pembroke I 
 believe has ever diftinguifhed itfelf by the Love 
 and Encouragement of the fine Arts ; Shakefpeare\ 
 and Beaumont and Fletcher *s Works, and many 
 other Books of Poetry, dedicated to the Family 
 of Herbert, give an irrefragable Proof of their 
 generous Difpofition to favour and reward the 
 Followers of the Mufes. 
 
 Wood
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. lv 
 
 J Food fays that MaJJmger was fent to Oxford 
 in 1 60 1 ; but according to Langbaine he was 
 not there before 1602. This feeming Diffe- 
 rence may be eafily reconciled ; for the Year 
 then began and ended according to that Mode 
 of Reckoning which took place before the Al^ 
 teration of the Style by Act of Parliament 
 
 William Earl of Pembroke fucceeded his Fa- 
 ther Henry, who died January 19, 1601. 
 MaJJlnger muir. then, agreeably to Woocfs Ac- 
 count, have been fupported at the Univerfity 
 by the Generofity of this Nobleman. But it 
 feems, our Author's Application to the more 
 iuperficial, though alluring Studies of Poetry 
 and Romances, fruftrated the Intention of his 
 Patron, and difqualified him from receiving a 
 Degree; to obtain which, an Application to 
 Logick and Philofophy was abfolutely necefla- 
 ly ; as the Candidate for that Honour mult pais 
 through an Examination in both before he can 
 obtain it. 
 
 A Degree conferred upon a Scholar by an 
 Univerfity is, in our Days, held a diftinguimed 
 Mark of Merit ; and in thole Times of fevere 
 Difcipline and ftrict Application to Learning, I 
 fuppofe it was efteemed a neceflary Appendage 
 to him, who was ambitious to rile either in 
 Church or State ; and perhaps it was thought 
 byPerfons of the graver Caft, a Kind of Dif- 
 grace in a Scholar to quit his College without 
 that Proof of Approbation. This fame Earl of 
 d 4 Pembroke
 
 >i The LIFE of 
 
 Pembroke feems to have exacted that Stamp of 
 Merit from William Brown, the Author of 
 Britannia's Paftorals, who was educated at Ex- 
 eter College, Oxford, much about the fame Time 
 our Majfinger refided there. From Wood we 
 learn, that Brown left the Univeriitv before he 
 had taken an Academical Degree, and retired 
 to the Inner Temple, London: That lie return- 
 ed feveral Years after, viz. in 1624, to his 
 College with * Robert Dormer, his Pupil. On 
 the 25th of March, in the fame Year, Brown 
 received Pcrmiflion to be actually created M. A. 
 although the Degree was not conferred upon him 
 till the November following: After he had left 
 College with his Pupil he was gladly received into 
 the Family of William Earl of Pembroke, who 
 had a great Refpcfffor him, and there he made his 
 Fortune fo well thai he pur chafed anFflate -(- 
 
 Maffinger flayed at the Univerfity of Oxford 
 three or four Years, and then it feems he fet 
 put for London, as if impatient to improve him- 
 felf in the Converfation of the eminent Wits 
 and Poets in that Metropolis : And now com- 
 menced the JKxtl of his Misfortunes, as well 
 as his Fame. I can find no Trace of the pre* 
 cife Time when he began to write for the Stage. 
 The Oxford Hijlorian, I have fo often quoted, 
 
 * Robert Dormer afterwards Earl of Carnarvon \ he mar- 
 ried Lady Sophia Herbert, Sifter of the Earl of Pembroke, 
 and was killed at the Battle of Najeby, fighting for Charles 
 the Firft. 
 
 -j~ Wood's Athena, Vol. I. 
 
 fays,
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. lvii 
 
 fays, indeed, that after throwing himfelf out in 
 fhort EfTays, he ventured to try his Abilities in 
 the writing of Plays : but what thefe EfTays were, 
 whether Interlude, Mafque, Song, or any other 
 Entertainment of the Stage, we are left to con- 
 jecture. The Vir gin Martyr was, I believe, one 
 of our Author's firft Pieces which he wrote in 
 'Conjunction with Decker, and is far inferior to 
 any of his other Productions. The Plot and 
 Machinery are very extravagant ; and the Play- 
 is difgraced by vulgar Dialogue and vile Qbfce- 
 nity, Faults which cannot fairly be laid to Maf- 
 /mger's Charge, who, though occasionally licen- 
 tious, is never fo orfenlive and diigufting. 
 
 Wood and Langbaine agree, that MaJJinger s Dra- 
 matick Pieces were approved ; but whatever 
 might be their Succefs, he ibon experienced the 
 unhappy Confequences of difobliging his Patron 
 the Earl of Pembroke. This Nobleman's Cha- 
 racter is drawn at large by the copious and elo- 
 quent Pen of Lord Clarendon ; who Styles him 
 one of the worthier!: and befl: beloved Men of the 
 Age in which he lived. ' He was a Man, fays 
 the noble Hiftorian, who converted with Per- 
 fons of the moll: pregnant Parts and Understand- 
 ing ; and to fuch, who needed Support or En- 
 couragement, if fairly recommended, he was 
 very liberal. How comes it to pafs, that Maf- 
 Jinger, who was born in the Family of Herbert, 
 and bred at the Univerfity of Oxford, at the Ex- 
 pence of this amiable Man, ihould be fo totally 
 neglected, as it appears from himfelf that he 
 really was ? 
 
 It
 
 MH The L I F E of 
 
 It is moft probable, tbnt our Author's acting 
 in Oppohtion to the Intention of his Pa- 
 tron, and leaving the Univerfity without his 
 Permiflion, was the leading Cauie of that low 
 Dependence and Straitnefs of Circumftances 
 which he laments ib paffionately in almoft all 
 his Applications to the great Men, whofe Pa- 
 tronage he feems rather to have implored than 
 folicited. 
 
 It mil ft hurt a generous Mind to read the aU 
 moft fervile Supplications and humiliating 
 Acknowledgements with which moft of his 
 Dedications abound. In the Epiftle dedica- 
 tory of his excellent Tragedy the Duke of 
 Mi/an, he f intreats Lady Catherine Stanhope to 
 fuffer the Examples of more knowing and experienced 
 fVr iters to plead his Pardon for addrefjing his Play 
 to her, the rather, as his Misfortunes have left him 
 no other Courfe to purfue.' He frankly acquaints 
 Sir Robert Wifeman * that he had but faintly fub^ 
 fifed if he had not eft en tafed of his Bounty. The 
 like Acknowledgement of munificent Favour 
 he makes to Sir Francis Folianby f, and Sir Tho- 
 mas Bland. In fhort, the fame Language, though 
 fomewhat varied, runs through the greateft Part 
 of his Addreffes to his Patrons. The queru- 
 lous and petitionary Style is peculiar to Ma/fin- 
 ger above all other Writers. 
 
 When we read the complimentary Epiftles 
 pf this Author's Cotemporaries, many of whom 
 
 * Dedication of the Great Duke of Florence. 
 f Dedication of the Maid of Honour. 
 
 were
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. lis 
 
 were diftinguiihed for Wit and Learning, and 
 fome of them Perfons of fuperior Rank, abound- 
 ing with the fullefh Approbation of his Merit, 
 and extolling the Force and Grandeur of his 
 Genius, we are at a Lofs to account for fuch 
 a Man's unhappy Condition and dependent Si- 
 tuation. 
 
 What the Profits were which accrued to him 
 from the Reprefentation of his Plays, cannot 
 now be afcertained ; That the Dramatic Poets 
 were entitled to One Third Night's Profits in 
 the Days of Elizabeth and James the Firft* I 
 believe is not generally known, but can be au- 
 thenticated from a Prologue of Decker to one of 
 his Plays. -f 
 
 * The Progrefs of Liberality is flow; though after the Re- 
 iteration, fome Plays were a&ed Twenty or Thirty Nights 
 without Interruption, and particularly Drydens Sir Martin 
 Marr-All\ yet the Poets could not obtain more than the Pro- 
 fits of one Night, till the latter End of the laft Century, 
 when, upon the great Succefs of a Play of Southern, I believe 
 it was Oroanoko, the Author obtained the Favour of two 
 Nights: But, in Juftice to the Actors, 1 muft obferve, that 
 befurc the Enlarging the Number of Benefits in Favour of 
 Authors, the Latter received the whole Money taken on their 
 Benefit Night without any Deduction for Charges; Downes, 
 in his Rofcius Anglicanus, acquaints us, that Shadvueil re- 
 ceived for his Third Night of the Squire of Alfatia, 130I ; 
 which, fays Downes, was the greateft Receipt they ever 
 had at that Houfe, (Drury Lane) in fingle Prices. A few 
 Years after Oroonoko was a&ed, Rovue, by the Succefs of 
 one of his Tragedies, had the Honour to increafe the Poets 
 Nights to the Number of Three; fince that Time the Li- 
 berality of feveral Managers has frequently gone farther 
 than the ftated Rule, by giving four, and, 1 believe, fome- 
 times five Nights to very fuccefsful Plavs. 
 
 -j- If this be not a good Play the Devil's in it. 
 
 25s
 
 lx The LIFE of 
 
 It is not Praife is fought for now, but Pence, 
 Though drop d from greafy apron d Audience ; 
 Clap d may he be with Thunder, that plucks Bavs 
 With fuch foul Hands, and with fquint Eyes does gaze 
 On Pallas' Shield, not caring though he gains 
 A cramd third Night, what Filth drops from his 
 brains. 
 
 But we know how precarious the Benefit 
 Kights of Authors often are, even in this liberal 
 Age, for by a ftrange Peryerfenefs of Fortune, 
 wc fee the Boxes lets frequented, when an Au- 
 thor's Pains and Merit ought to be rewarded, 
 than at other Times. 
 
 * 
 Towards the Beginning of the lafl Century 
 the Tafle for Plays became fo univerfal, that 
 the Number of Theatres, as Mr. Steevens allures 
 me from the MSS. of Rymer the Hiilorio- 
 grapher, amounted to no lefs than twenty 
 three.* 
 
 So many rival Theatres muft have confidera- 
 bly diminished the Profits of them all. And 
 though ibme of them, fuch as the Black Friars, 
 the Globe, the Phoenix^ the PJayhouie in Salifbury 
 
 * Before the Act which limited the Number of Theatres 
 in 1736, we had in London no lefs than fix regular The- 
 atres The Playhoufes of Drury Lane, Covcnt Garden, Lin- 
 coln's Inn Fields, the King's Theatre, the little Theatre in the 
 Haymarket, and Goodman s Fields, were all open at one Time 
 and exhibited Plays, Operas, &c. befides a Playhoufe m 
 James Street, called the Slaughter Houfc, and another in Vil- 
 tiers Street, York Buildings ; there was a Third at IVindmill 
 Hill, and another at May Fair ; and in many of the great 
 Taverns of this Metropolis, particularly the Devil Tavern, 
 Temple Bar, Plays were occafionally acted. 
 
 Court,
 
 PHILIP MAS SINGER. 1x1 
 
 Court, and the Cock Pit, were more efleemed and 
 frequented by the better Sort of People than 
 the others ; yet from the Smallnefs of the Price 
 paid for the beft Seat, which was Haifa Crown, 
 we cannot fuppofe, that the Sum Total taken at 
 One of theie Theatres, upon an Average, 
 amounted to more than about 25 or 30/.* 
 
 From this Eftimation we may fairly conclude, 
 that it was impoffible for Mqffinger to acquire a 
 competent Income from the Reprefentation of 
 his Plays. What Prefents his Dedications pro- 
 duced we cannot eafily conjecture; but from 
 the precarious Circumftances of the Poet, it is 
 reafonable to fuppofe that they were rather fcanty 
 than generous. Nor could the Printer afford 
 a large Sum for the Copy of a Play confifting 
 of ten Sheets, which he fold at the Price of Six 
 Pence. This Information I learn from fome 
 Lines of W, B. to Mqjfinger, on his "Bondman. 
 
 'Tis granted for yourTwelve Pence you did fit, 
 And fee and hear, and underjiood not vet ; f 
 
 The 
 
 $ From the Diary of Edivard Allen, a celebrated Ator, 
 who founded a College at Dulwicb, in the Reign of King 
 'James the Firft, we find that the whole Amount of Money 
 taken at the Acting of a Play at his own Theatre, called 
 The Fortune, was no more than 3I. and a few Shillings ; 
 the Diary fays, indeed that the Audience was very (lender. 
 
 \ This feems to be a much valued Compliment which 
 was frequently paid to our old Dramatic Authors. Beau- 
 wmA tells B, Jatifm in fome verfes in praife of his Ca- 
 taHne, that he was fo deep in fenfe he would not be under- 
 ftood in three Ages An unhappy Panegyrick for a Dra- 
 matic VVntcr, wnoft* worlt Fault mult \a Obfcuritv. 
 
 ' Dr.
 
 Ixii ttt LIFE of 
 
 The Author in a Chriftian Pity, takes 
 Care of your Good, and prints it for your Sake?, 
 That fuch as will but venture Six Pence more, 
 May know what they but faw and heard before* 
 
 I am inclined to believe that * Shakefpearc, 
 as afharing Aclor, gained more Money than any 
 of his brother Poets did by the Profits of their 
 Plays". 
 
 Though Beaumont and Fletcher were the Sons 
 of Men dignified in the Church and the Law, 
 and confequently fuperior to Indigence ; yet I 
 do not find that they rejected any lucrative Ad- 
 vantages they could acquire by their Writings. 
 It was a Cuftom, fays Langbatne, with Fletcher, 
 after he had written the three firft Acts of a 
 Play, to fhew them to the Actors, and make 
 Terms with them for the whole. 
 
 Without any other Refource but his Pen, 
 and furrounded as he was with many Inconve- 
 niences, Maffinger might indeed be permitted 
 to complain, that his Misfortunes obliged him 
 to write for the Stage. 
 
 But however mean the Gratifications which 
 he obtained from his Patrons, and however fmall 
 
 * Dr. Percy, in an Appendix to the Firft Volume of his Rc- 
 licks of Ancient Poetry, quotes, from Green's Groat's JVorth 
 of Wit, a Paflage which will tend to confirm what I have 
 conjectured of Shakefpeare's Share as an Adtor. A Player is- 
 introduced in this Pamphlet of Green, boafting that his 
 Share in Stage Apparel would not be foid for Two Hun- 
 dred Pounds. 
 
 the
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. hriii 
 
 the Profits were which arofe from the Acting 
 and Printing of his Plays, he was by no means 
 wanting to himfelf ; he was not remifs in pur- 
 iuing his Intereft, or flow in making known his 
 Pretenfions. He applied to fuch noble Lords 
 and Ladies as were allied by Birth or Marri- 
 age to the Pembroke Family, andJaid Claim to 
 their Favour on Account of his Father's Con- 
 nections with that noble Houfe. 
 
 The Earl of Montgomery being accidentally 
 at the Reprefentation of the Bondman, and 
 openly approving it, furnimad the Author with 
 a fair Pretence to dedicate that Play to his 
 Lordihip. The Beginning of his'Addrefs is 
 remarkable, and we may guefs from it that 
 the Dedicator had made fome fruitlefs Attempts 
 to be introduced to the Earl. 
 
 However I could never arrive at the Happlnefs to 
 be made known to your Lordfip, a Defire born with 
 me, to make a 'Tender of all Duties and Services to 
 the noble Family of the Herberts, defended to 
 me as an Inheritance from my dead Father, Philip 
 Maflinger : many Tears he happily /pent in the Ser- 
 vice of your honourable Houfe, and died a Servant 
 fit. 
 
 This claim to Patronage and Protection is here 
 plainly, though modeitly, infinuated. What 
 Favour he afterwards experienced from this 
 Nobleman during the Life of his Brother Wil- 
 liam Earl of Pembroke, concerning whom Mafjln- 
 
 B er >
 
 lxiv the LIFE of 
 
 ger always obferves the moft profound Silence, 
 cannot now be known: But when, by the Death 
 of the * latter, the Earl of Montgomery acquired 
 the Title and Eftate of Pembroke, there is reafon 
 to fuppofe that our Author's uneafy Circum- 
 flances were happily relieved, for in a Copy of 
 Verfes written by him on the Death of Charles 
 Lord Herbert, the Earl's Son, he addreffed him 
 not only as his lingular good Lord, but his Pa- 
 tron. He likewife hints in a Prologue to the 
 Play of the Very Woman, that he had revived 
 and altered that Piece in Obedience to the Com- 
 mand of his Patron : 
 
 By command 
 He undertook this Talk, nor could it fland 
 With his low Fortune, to refufe to do 
 What by his Patron he was call'd unto : 
 For whofe Delight and yours, we hope with Care 
 He hath revived it. 
 
 It is not improbable, that the Refentment of 
 the Herbert Family to Maffinger, which proceeded 
 from the Offence given to William Earl of Pem- 
 broke, and was merely Perfonal, expired with 
 that Nobleman. 
 
 That our Author was happy in the Acquaint- 
 ance of Men diftinguimed by Superiority of 
 Rank, and efteemed for their Virtues, is un- 
 
 queflionable. If Dramatic Hiftory -f had not 
 
 > 
 
 * William Earl of Pembroke, *o the great Regret of the 
 Public, died April 10th, 1630. 
 \ Langbaine'% Lives of the Poets. 
 
 told
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. lxt 
 
 told us that he was heloved for his Modefty, 
 Candour, Affability, and other amiable Qualities 
 of the Mind, the Teftimonies of Sir AJion Cock- 
 aine, Sir Henry Mcore, Sir "Thomas Jay, of For d, 
 May, Shirley and many Others,would have proved 
 laiting and honourable Records of the Good- 
 nefs of his Mind and the Extent of his Genius. 
 
 The Epithets of Addrefs conferred on our 
 Author by his Panegyrifh are remarkably af* 
 fectionate, beloved, much ejleemed, dear, worthy, 
 deferving, honour d, long known and long loved Friend y 
 convey the Sentiments of Majfingers Admirers 
 and Friends with an honeft Warmth, worthy of 
 him and the Congratulators. 
 
 The general Approbation given by the Pub- 
 lic to the Plays which were produced by the 
 united Efforts of Beaumont and Fletcher, tempted 
 many other Dramatic Writers to follow their 
 Example, and to commence joint Traders in 
 Wit, but not with equal Fortune. Thefe 
 twin Stars of Dramatic Poetry were fo well 
 match'd in Abilities, fo uniform in flrength of 
 Sentiment, Brilliancy of Fancy, Elegance of 
 Diction, Variety of Character, and Oeconomy of 
 Plot, that the moid critical Reader could not 
 pretend to determine \^J|re Beaumont began or 
 where Fletcher ended. 
 
 But the Public might be eafiiy convinced, 
 that this Mode of uniting different Capacities 
 in the joint Fabrication of a Play, was a hazar- 
 dous Undertaking, which fuited very few Wri- 
 
 Vol. I. e ters
 
 txvi ft LIFE o/ 
 
 ters, and indeed fcarce any but the great Origi- 
 nals themfelves. 
 
 The unequal Powers of Genius generally 
 produced an heterogenous Offspring, for in no 
 Part of Compofition did the Partners affimilate 
 or harmonize. The whole Work was at beft 
 a Piece of tawdry Patchwork, and of as many 
 Colours as the Patriarch's Coat : The Elements 
 of Matter in Chaos were not more difiimilar 
 and difcordant than the feparate Scenes of thefe 
 hand-in-hand Writers.* 
 
 !uia Corpore in Uno 
 Frigida pugnabant ctdidis, humentiaficcis, 
 Mollla cum duris, fine ponder e habentia pondus. 
 
 I have dwelt the longer upon this awkward 
 and ridiculous Partnership in Wit, becaufe our 
 MaJJi?iger fuffered greatly by the Practice. The 
 mixing his fine Ore with foreign Drofs, gave a 
 Credit to his Allies which they did not merit, 
 at the fame Time that his own pure Metal was 
 debafed below its genuine Standard. In this 
 Cenfure I do not mean to include "Nathaniel 
 Field, who affifted our Author in writing his 
 Fatal Dowry ; the comic Scenes of this Writer 
 cannot eafily be feparated from MaJJingers. 
 
 We 
 
 * I know of but one Comedy written fince the Times 
 of Beaumont and Fletcher, where the Wit, Fancy, and Hu- 
 mour of two Authors unite fo happily, that the Texture of 
 the Whole may be fuppofed to be woven by one Hand : 
 ThetReader will eafily guefs I mean the Clandejtine Marriagt*
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. lxvii 
 
 We are told indeed that Majjinger joined with 
 Fletcher in the Writing of a few Plays. Hap* 
 py mould we be to difcover the Dramatick 
 Pieces in which thefe eminent Writers exerted 
 their mutual Talents; for they were almofl: 
 equally matched, and equally capable to earn 
 . the Reward of fuperior Merit. But for this 
 interefting Fact, we have no other Proof than 
 the vague Teitimony of Sir Ajlon Cockaine * g 
 who, in a profaick Copy of Verfes, addrelTed 
 to^the Publiihers of Beaumont and Fletcher, calls 
 upon them to point out which Plays thole Au- 
 thors wrote jointly, and which feparately, and 
 to diftinguifh the Pieces which the united Mufes 
 of Fletcher and Majjinger produced. But this 
 was no more than meer Hearfay ; for Sir AJlorfs 
 Authority was founded, according to Langbaine, 
 upon fomething which he had heard in Con- 
 verfation from one who was Fletcher $ intimate 
 Friend ; we cannot therefore rely on the Truth 
 of this Story. 
 
 Sir Afton Cockaine was well acquainted with 
 Ma/finger, who would, in all probability, have 
 communicated to his Friend, a Circumftance 
 which was fo honourable to himfelf. 
 
 * To Mr. Humphrey Mofty and Mr. Humphrey Robin/op,, 
 In the large Book of Plays you late did print 
 In Beaumont and in Fletcher's Name ; why in't 
 Did you not Juftice ? Give to each his due ? 
 For Beaumont of thofe many writ but few : 
 And Majjinger in other few; the main 
 Being lweet IlTues of fweet Fletcher'**, Brain. 
 But how come I (you afk) fo much to know ? 
 Fletcher's chief bofom Friend * inform'd me fo. 
 * Mr. Charles Ctton y Author of Virgil Travejlie. 
 
 e 2 We
 
 ixviU fhi h IF C 0/ 
 
 We can find no Footfteps of any Intimacy 
 or Acquaintance between Shakefpeare and Maf- 
 Jinger ; though the latter iccms to have much 
 admired the Works of the former, whom he 
 frequently imitated, and ibmetimes, indeed, he 
 has little more than tranferibed him. But 
 Shakefpeare was older than our Poet by twenty 
 Years, and before Maffinger could poflibly be 
 known to the Publick, the Father of the 
 Eng/i/Ij Drama enjoyed that happy Affluence, 
 which enabled him to ipend the greateft Part 
 of his Time at his beloved Stratford upon Avon ; 
 from whence he returned occaiionallv to the 
 Metropolis, to viiit his old Friends, and to ex- 
 hibit lome new Work which his Leifurc in the 
 Country had tempted him to write for the 
 Stage *. 
 
 But we cannot fo eafily account for Ben Jon- 
 fons Silence refpecling our Author, who out- 
 lived Jonfon only two Years. He, who was fo 
 ready to praife or ceniUre all who fubmitted to, 
 or queftioned his Authority, has not once men- 
 tioned the Man, who after Shakefpeare, Beau- 
 mont, and Fletcher, and himfelf, was the moil 
 diftinguifhed Name in Dramatick Poetry. 
 
 But this Poet Critick, in Proportion as the 
 Faculties of his Mind decayed, leems to have 
 been more urgent in his Claims to fuperior 
 
 *T\va.\.Sbcikefpetirc wrote for the Stage till the Year 1614, 
 two Years before his Death, has been proved by Mr. 
 Malonn iu a very laborious and well eftablifhed Acrount 
 of the feveral /Eras when his Plavs were a&ed. Vide laft 
 Edit, of JohnjWi Shakefpeare, 10 Vol. Svo. 
 
 Merit ;
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. lxix 
 
 Merit ; and the publick Voice not according 
 with his own, it rendered him more petulant, 
 prefumptuous, and peevifh. He valued himfelf 
 much upon his Tragick Style, which was his 
 worft Species of Composition. His Difappoint- 
 ment of Succefs \i\Sejcimts> did not prevent him 
 from writing his beloved Cata/ine, as I think my 
 Lord Dorfet feme where ftyles it. The ill Fate 
 of this Play feems to have hurt his Mind, and 
 damped his Genius. For nothing which he 
 produced afterwards, if we except ibrhe Scenes 
 of an imperfect Piece, called the Sad Shepherd, 
 is worth reading. Tradition informs us, that 
 he wrote his Bartholomew Fair, to revenge the 
 Infult offered to Cat aline. But that Comedy does 
 no Honour to his Memory ; nor to that Publick, 
 who could endure luch Scenes of vile Ribaldry, 
 low Humour, and vulgar Dialogue. Such a 
 Man, ruffled in his Temper, and difgufted 
 with the World, would not temperately bear 
 ib fuccefsful a Rival as Majjinger, who, in Dra- 
 matick Poetry, was equal to himfelf, and great- 
 ly iuperior to his two adopted Heirs, Ran- 
 dolph and Cartwright. 
 
 yon/on was, beyond all Controverfy, a Man 
 of considerable Abilities. He was an excellent 
 Scholar, and the firft Writer who taught the 
 life of critical Learning in Dramatic Compo- 
 iition. His Humour, though confined to Cha- 
 racters of the loweft Clafs, was genuine ; and 
 in the Conduct of his Scenes, he approached 
 nearer to the Simplicity of the Ancients than 
 any Play Wright of his own Times; but his 
 e 3 . Subjects
 
 Ixx The LIFE of 
 
 Subjects were often ill. chofen ; and though his 
 Portraits were correctly defigned, his Colour- 
 ing was dry and unpleafant, his Wit was fa- 
 shionable, and his Satire local. 
 
 His Reputation has funk in Proportion as 
 Shakefpeare has been known and admired. The 
 unlimited Obedience to his Stage Laws, which 
 fonfon exacted, not only from the People at 
 large, but from his contemporary Authors, 
 whether Inferiors or Equals, was, in his own 
 Age, often difputed with Warmth, and rejecl> 
 cd with Indignation. 
 
 Who can forbear fmiling at the extravagant 
 and abfurd Commendations beftowed upon this 
 Man by Selden, Beaumont, Randolph, Chapman, 
 Cartwnght, and others, his Admirers and Flat- 
 terers ? 
 
 His Son Randolph thus approaches his poeti* 
 cal Parent, with the moll profound and reve** 
 rential Awe : 
 
 When my Mufe upon obedient Knees 
 Afks not a Father's Bleffing, let her leefe 
 The Fame of her Adoption ; 'tis a Curfe 
 I wilh her, 'caufe I cannot think a worfe ! 
 
 That his other Son, Cartwnght, mould pre^ 
 fer Jon/on and Fletcher to Shakefpeare, and even 
 ridicule the Humour of the matchlefs Bard, 
 can be attributed to nothing but a bad Tafte, 
 or the grofTeft Partiality, 
 
 That
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. lxxi 
 
 That MqJJinger fcorned to bow the Knee to 
 this felf-elected Monarch, may be proved, I 
 think, from fome Lines in his Prologue to the 
 Bafhful hover, 
 
 ' Let others, building on their Merit, fay 
 Y'are in the wrong, if you move not that way 
 Which they prefcribe you ; as you were 
 
 bound to learn 
 Their Maxims, but incapable to difcern 
 'Tvvixt Truth and Falfehood.' 
 
 This is the conftant Language of Jonfon, in 
 his Inductions, Prologues, and Epilogues. He 
 will not permit the Audience to decide for 
 themfelves ; he allures them that his Play is 
 good, and they ought to approve it. In the 
 Epilogue to Cynthia s Revels, he fwears to the 
 Excellence of his Workmanmip. 
 
 I'll only fpeak what I have heard him fay, 
 By 'tis good, and if you like't you may. 
 
 When the Practice of adopting poetical OfF- 
 fpring firft began, may be with more Rea- 
 dinels conjectured than afcertained. jfonfon, 
 who was as much delighted with an implicit 
 Homage to his Nod of Authority, as ever beau- 
 tiful Woman was charmed with the Number 
 of her Adorers, was, I believe, the Parent of this 
 whimfical Cuftom. Ben was not a little fond 
 of the Delights which flow from focial Plea- 
 fure, and loved the brilk Circulation of the 
 Glafs. Some peculiar Rite muft have followed 
 the Chriftening of the poetical Brat, who, it is 
 likely, paid the Tribute of a fumptuous Dinner, 
 and fome Gallons of Sack, to his Revered Pa- 
 e 4 rent,
 
 lxxii the LIFE of 
 
 rent, for the much defired Bleffing of Adop- 
 tion. It were to be wifhed, that the Circum- 
 stances attending this ParnafTian Ceremony, had 
 been handed down to us, and fet forth as ex- 
 plicitly as the celebrated Leges Convivales, or 
 Club Laws of Jonfon, hung up in the Apollo, at 
 the Devil Tavern. * 
 
 In Imitation of Ben's Method of creating 
 Heirs of Genius, other Poets claimed an equal 
 Right of railing up poetical Offspring : Chap- 
 man adopted Nath. Field, and what may be 
 thought fomewhat furprizing, Richard Brome t 
 the Servant and Amanuenjis of jfonfon, chofe for 
 his Parent, Decker, the avowed Antagonift, of 
 his Matter. Let us hear what Father Decker 
 fays to his Son Brome, in a congratulatory Poem 
 on his Northern Lafs. 
 
 To my Son Brome on his Lafs. 
 
 Which then of both mall I commend ? 
 Or thee that art my Son and Friend, 
 Or her by thee begot ? 
 
 Majfinger was, I believe, the lair, of thefe 
 poetical Parents ; James Shirley was the Off- 
 spring of his Choice ; and with Mr. Dry den %. 
 Leave, I will be bold to fay, he was not un- 
 
 * In the Beginning of the Reign of Charles the Firft, or 
 forne Time after, this Society was eftablilhed by Ben Jon- 
 Jon, and all the Members who compofed it were called his 
 Sons; Dr. Motley, afterwards Bifhop of Winthtjle> , and 
 many Perfons of Rank, and Merit, thought themlelves ho- 
 noured to be adopted into the Number of thefe jolly Afio- 
 ciates at the Devil Tavern. 
 
 worthy
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER, lxxiii 
 
 worthy to be chofen Succeflbr to a Man of 
 the moft approved Dramatical Abilities. As I 
 have given the whole Poem, written by the 
 Father to his adopted Heir, in its proper Place, 
 I ihall only quote here two Lines, which may 
 ferve to prove Mq/fingers Opinion of his Child's 
 Abilities. 
 
 To his Son James Shirley, on his Minerva, &c. 
 
 Thou art my Son, in that my Choice is fpoke; 
 Thine, with thy Father's Mufe, ftrikes equal 
 Stroke. 
 
 Here we fee the modeil: Man, on this Occa- 
 sion, throwing off his ufual Referve, and af- 
 fuming a Dignity conformable to his Merit. 
 
 Amongfl the Friends of Majjlnger, I muft 
 not forget to name Jofeph Baylor , a very emi- 
 nent Comedian ; who, in a Copy of Verfes, 
 complimented him on the great Succefs of his 
 Roman AElor, a Play in which 'Taylor reprefent- 
 ed the principal Character. In his Addrefs, 
 he ftyles the Poet his long known and loved 
 Friend, Philip Ma//inger. 
 
 Gof, in fome Latin Verfes, which he wrote 
 upon the fame Play, celebrates the Merit of 
 the Author and the Player. 
 
 Ecce Philipinte, celebrata Tragaedia, Mufae, 
 Quam Rofeus Britonum Rofcius egit, adeft, 
 Semper fronde ambo vireant Parnaflide, &c. 
 
 Taylor
 
 xlxiv The LIFE of 
 
 Taylor reprefented the Part of Hamlet, origi- 
 nally ; from the Remembrance of whole Action 
 in that Character, Sir William Davenant is laid 
 to have taught Betterton to perform Wonders. 
 
 Taylor ! s Name is to be found in the Lift 
 of Actors in Shakefpeare 's and Beaumont and 
 Fletcher's Plays. After having lived above 
 forty Years the Admiration of the Publick, 
 in a Variety of principal Characters, he was 
 unhappily reduced to a State of Indigence. 
 It was his Misfortune to furvive the profperous 
 Days of the Theatre, which the breaking out 
 of the civil Wars in 1640, caufed to be (hut 
 up till the Reftoration of Charles II. a Period 
 of twenty Years. This excellent Actor died 
 very poor, at Richmond, in Surry, about the 
 Year 1655. 
 
 MaJJtnger did not live to feel the Miferies of 
 that civil Conteft, which deftroyed the Go- 
 vernment of this Kingdom, in Church and 
 State ; he was happy in not feeing the Times 
 of Confufion and Tumult, which though 
 they affect all Ranks of Society, are moil: un- 
 friendly to the Mufes. Had he furvived, he 
 might, perhaps, have fhared the Fate of Tay- 
 lor ; or have been reduced, like his Son Shirley, 
 to earn his Livelihood by teaching Grammar *, 
 
 MaJJinger died in March 1640, according to 
 our prefent Mode of reckoning, or 1639 agreea- 
 
 * Shirley died during the Rage of the great Fire of Lon- 
 Johy in 1666. The Terror and Fright which he and his 
 Wife fufferec! from this dreadful Conflagration, precipitated 
 the Death of both. 
 
 able
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. Ixxv 
 
 ble to that Style which then prevailed. Wood 
 and Langbaine both agree in the Manner of his 
 Death ; he went to bed in good Health, and 
 was found dead in the Morning, in his own 
 Houfe, on the Bankfide, Southwark. The Come- 
 dians paid a juft Tribute to their deceafed 
 Friend by attending him to his Grave. He was 
 buried about the Middle of the Church-yard, 
 belonging to St. Saviour's Church, commonly 
 called the Bull-head Church-yard. 
 
 Sir AJlon Cockaine, in an Epitaph which I here 
 tranfcribe from his Poems, published in 1659, 
 acquaints us, that Majfinger was buried in the 
 fame Grave with Fletcher. 
 
 An Epitaph on Mr. John Fletcher, and Mr. 
 Philip Majfinger, who lay both buried in one 
 Grave, in St. Mary Overys, Church, in South- 
 ivark *, 
 
 In the fame Grave was Fletcher buried, here 
 Lies the Stage Poet, Philip Majfinger ; 
 Plays they did write together, were great 
 
 Friends, 
 And now one Grave includes them in their ends. 
 So whom on Earth nothing could part, beneath 
 Here in their Fame they lie, in fpight of Death. 
 
 After what has been faid of our Author, by 
 the Editor, in his elegant Preface, and by the 
 judicious Writer of the Eflay on our Engljb 
 
 * The Regifter of that Church, according to Oldys, in 
 his MS. Notes on Langbaine\ Life of Majjinger, records 
 that he was buried in one of the four Church Yards belong- 
 ing to the Bullhead. 
 
 Dramatick
 
 Ixxvi The LIFE of 
 
 Dramatick Poets, it may be thought fuperflu- 
 ous, as well as impertinent in me, to add any 
 Thing farther upon the Subject. 
 
 Notwithftanding, I hope I mail be pardoned 
 if I endeavour to point out fome Peculiarities 
 which diftinguim this Writer from his Con- 
 temporaries. 
 
 The Plots oiMajjinger, like thofe of all our old 
 Dramatifts, are borrowed from furprizing Tales, 
 and ftrange Adventures, from wild Romances 
 and entertaining Novels, or from old Chronicles 
 and well known Hiftory. In the conducting of 
 his Fable, he is confidently and invariably at- 
 tentive. 
 
 It is not his Cuftom, in Imitation of Beau- 
 mont and Fletcher, to write two or three Acts 
 of a Play with uncommon Energy, and after 
 exciting Expectation, and promising Delight, 
 to difappoint the Reader, by unpardonable 
 Neglect, or an utter Defertion of the Fable. I 
 will not pretend to fay, that thefe valuable Au- 
 thors are always and equally deficient in work- 
 ing up the Cataftrophes of their Plays ; but I 
 will appeal to their moft partial Readers, if 
 they are not often mame fully forgetful and in- 
 dolent, where the Union of Genius and Judg- 
 ment is molt required *. 
 
 * I have either read or been informed that it was gene- 
 rally Mr. Fletcher's Practice, after he had finilhed three Atts 
 of a Play, to fhew them to the Attors ; and after they 
 had agreed upon Terms, he huddled up the two laft with- 
 out that proper Care which which was requifite. 
 
 Langba'me's Poets, p. 144. 
 In
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. lxxvii 
 
 In MaJJitiger, Nature and Art are (o happily 
 connected, that the one never feems to coun- 
 teract the other, and in whatever Rank he may- 
 be placed by the Criticks, yet this Praife cannot 
 be refufed him, that his Genius operates equally 
 in every Part of his Compolition ; for the Powers 
 of his Mind are impartially diftufed through his 
 whole Performance ; no Part is purpofely de- 
 graded to Infipidity, to make another more 
 fplendid and magnificent ; one Act of a Play 
 is not impoverished to enrich another. All the 
 Members of the Piece are cultivated and dif- 
 pofed as Plot, Situation, and Character require. 
 
 The Editor very juftly obferves, that Majfin- 
 ger excels Shakefpeare himfelf in an eafy con- 
 stant flow of harmonious Language ; nor mould 
 it be forgotten, that the Current of his Style is 
 never interrupted by harm, and obfcurePhrafe- 
 ology, or overloaded with figurative Expref- 
 fion. Nor does he indulge in the wanton and 
 licentious Ufe of mixed Modes in Speech ; he 
 is never at a Lofs for proper Words to cloath 
 his Ideas. And it mull: be faid of him with 
 Truth, that if he does not always rife to Shakef- 
 peare s Vigour of Sentiment, or Ardor of Ex- 
 preflion, neither does he fink like him into 
 mean Quibble, and low Conceit. 
 
 There is a Difcrimination in the Characters 
 of Ma/finger, by which they are varied as dis- 
 tinctly as thole of Shakefpeare. The Hero, the 
 Statel'man, the Villain, the Fop, the Coward, 
 the Man of Humour, and the Gentleman, fpeak 
 
 a Lan-
 
 Ixxviii The LIFE of 
 
 a Language appropriated to their feveral Per- 
 ibnages. 
 
 Sometimes he takes Pleafure in fmoothing 
 the Features of a Villain, and concealing his 
 real Character, till his Wickednefs breaks out 
 into Action; nor is this Peculiarity in our Au- 
 thor effected by any conftrained or abrupt Con- 
 duct, but ftrictly conformable to Dramatick 
 Truth, and the Oeconomy of his Fable. Fran- 
 eifco, in the Duke of Milan, affumes, during the 
 firft Act, fuch a Face of Honefty and Fidelity, 
 that the Reader muft be furprized, though not 
 mocked at the Change of his Behaviour in the 
 fecond Ad. The Villains of Majfinger are not 
 Monfters of Vice, who fin merely from the 
 Delight they feel in the Practice of Wickednefs. 
 Francifco, like Dr. Toung's Zanga, *, carries his 
 Refentment beyond the Limits of his Provo- 
 cation ; but a Sifter difhonoured, is, by an Ita- 
 lian, fuppofed to be a fufficient Caufe for pur- 
 filing the deepeft Revenge. So Montr eviile, in 
 the unnatural Combat, imothers his Rage for 
 the Injuries he had received from Malefort, with 
 whom he lives in great Familiarity, and the 
 higheft feeming Warmth of Friendship, till he 
 gains an Opportunity, towards the Clofe of the 
 Play, to glut his Appetite of Revenge, by ra- 
 vifhing Maleforfs Daughter, and upbraiding 
 him at the fame Time with the Wrongs which 
 he had fuffered from him. 
 
 * In the Tragedy of the Revenge, Francifco has fome 
 Features not unlike thofe of the Moor. And 1 cannot help 
 thinking, that Young had read the Duke of Milan, and bor- 
 rowed a few Hints from that Tragedy. 
 
 Majjinger,
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. lxxhc 
 
 Mqjjinger is equally fkilful in producing Co- 
 mick and Tragick Delight ; his Characters in 
 both Styles are {tamped by the Hand of Na- 
 ture. Eubulus, in the Picture, is as true a Por- 
 trait of honeft Freedom, fhrewd Obfervation, 
 and lingular Humour, as Shakefpeare* s jEnobar- 
 bus, in Antony and Cleopatra. Durazzo, in the 
 Guardian, is inferior to no Character of agreea- 
 able Singularity in any Author. Joyous in Si- 
 tuations of the utmoft Peril, he is an impartial 
 Lover of Valour, in Friend or Foe ; he par- 
 dons the Follies of Youth, by a generous Re- 
 collection of his own. Durazzo forgives every 
 Thing but Cowardice of Spirit and Meannels 
 of Behaviour ; a more animated and picturefque 
 Defcription of Field Sports than that given by 
 Durazzo is not to be found in any Author. 
 MaJJinger does not ufe the Agency of Fools, 
 who in Shakefpeare 's Management produce fuch 
 admirable Scenes of Delight ; Graculo and Hi- 
 lario in the Duke of Milan and the Piclure feem 
 to partake fomething of the Spanifh Graciofo and 
 the Engli/Ii Clown ; and are employed by our 
 Author as Chorufles to conduct his Plots. 
 
 That Mqjjinger was no mean Scholar every 
 Reader of Tafte will difcern; his Knowledge in 
 Mythology, and Hiftory antient and modern, 
 appears to have been exteniive ; nor was he a 
 mere Smatterer in Logic, and Philofophy, 
 though Wood informs us that he did not apply 
 himlelf to the Study of thefe Sciences when he 
 was at the University. That he was very con- 
 verfant with the Greek and Roman Claffics, his 
 
 frequent
 
 Ixxx The LIFE of 
 
 frequent Allufions to poetical Fable, and his 
 interweaving fome of the choiceir. Sentiments 
 of the beft antient Writers in his Plays, fuffi- 
 ciently demonftrate. What he borrowed from 
 the Claries he paid back with Intereft, for he 
 dignified their Sentiments by giving them a 
 new Luftre ; while Jonfon, the fuperftitious Ido- 
 later of the Antients, deforms his Style by 
 affected Phrafeology and verbal Tranflation; 
 his Knowledge was unaccompanied by true 
 Judgment and Elegance of Tafte, and in the 
 Incorporation of foreign Sentiments with his 
 own, he underftood not the Means to enrich 
 his Compofition by artfully borrowing from 
 the dead Languages. 
 
 It was a Fault common to our old Dramatic 
 Writers, in defcribing the Manners of differ- 
 ent Nations, to forget what Painters call the 
 Coftume; if they laid their Plots in France , 
 Spain, Italy, Germany, or 'Turkey, the Characters 
 were merely JLngliJh, and the Cuftoms, Fa- 
 fhions, Follies, and Vices of our great Metro- 
 polis were fure to be introduced, though the 
 Poet had laid his Scene in Rome or Confiantinople. 
 
 This Incongruity in national Manners runs 
 through Shakefpeare, B. Jonfon, and Beaumont 
 and Fletcher, as well as MaJJingcr. But though, 
 in the Conduct of the Drama, this was a great 
 Impropriety, the Public, I believe, fuffered no 
 Injury from it. The reigning Enormities and 
 falhionable Follies of the Times, were cenfured, 
 perhaps, with greater Freedom, when the Scene 
 
 was
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. lxxxi 
 
 was laid at Venice, than if it had been placed in 
 London. 
 
 Although the Dramatic Poet is the moft 
 pleafing, he is at the fame Time the moil pun- 
 gent Moralift; and a more powerful Reformer 
 of Vice and Folly than the profeft Satirift 
 himfelf. What are the folemn Sermons of Se- 
 neca, the laughing Reproofs of Horace and the 
 grave Declamations of Juvenal, when compared 
 with the deep Reflections of the melancholy 
 Cardenes,* and the poignant Strictures of a mad 
 Pinion or a diftracted hear ? Seneca dazzles the 
 Reafon, Horace amufes the Fancy, Juvenal 
 alarms the Paffions, but Shakefpeare and Mqffin- 
 ger warm and refine the Heart. 
 
 Mqffinger, though inferior in pointed Satire 
 to Shakefpeare, feizes every Opportunity to crufri 
 rifing Folly, and repel incroaching Vice. 
 
 When this Author lived, Luxury in Eating 
 and Finery in Drefs univerfally prevailed, to the 
 molt enormous Excefs. Theie Perverfions of 
 natural Appetite and decent Cuilom he combat- 
 ed with an uncommon Ardor of Refentment, and. 
 applied to them the Force of Ridicule wherever 
 he fairly met them. In his City Madam he at- 
 tacks the Pride, Extravagance, and Affectation 
 of the Citizens and their Wives ; he fixes the 
 Boundaries between the gay Splendors of a Court, 
 and the ibber Cuftoms of the City. The Ci- 
 
 * A Character in the Play cf the Very Woman. 
 
 Vol. I. f tizens
 
 Ixxxii The LIFE of 
 
 tizens, by an awkward Imitation of Court Gai- 
 etieshave always rendered themfelves Ridicu- 
 lous. But this is not all In abandoning their 
 own primitive Way of Living, they have loft 
 that Influence which can only be preferved by 
 Induftry, Wealth, Oeconomy, Simplicity, and 
 Plainneis of Manners. 
 
 MaJJinger does not, like Shake fpeare and Jonfon > 
 fport with Cowardice and Effeminacy ; h<* 
 eonfiders them not only as Defects of Character 
 but as Stains of Immorality: Romonfs Reproof to 
 Noval, a Coward and a Fop, is lingular and bitter. 
 
 As if thou e'er wert angry 
 But with thy Taylor, and yet that poor Shred 
 Can bring more to the making up of a Man 
 Then can be hoped from thee Thou art his 
 
 Creature, 
 And did he not each Morn create thee, 
 
 Thou'dft ftink and be forgotten. I'll not 
 
 change 
 One Syllable more with, thee, until thou bring 
 Some Teftimony under good Men's Hands 
 Thou art a Chriftian, I iufpect thee flrongly, 
 And will be fatisfied. 
 
 Fatal Dowry, Act II. 
 
 But, befides the occaiional Cenfure which 
 Majfinger paffed upon the growing Vices of 
 the Times in which he lived he aimed at 
 higher Game. He boldy attacked the Faults 
 of Minifters and of Kings themfelves. He 
 
 pointed
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. lxxxiii 
 
 pointed his Arrows againft Carr and Bucking- 
 ham^ againft James and Charles the Firft. 
 
 The pufilanimous Temper of James expofed 
 him to the Scorn of all Europe, and rendered him 
 contemptible in the Eyes of his own Subjects; 
 The warlike Spirit of the Nation was fubdued 
 by the Cowardice of the Prince, He was call- 
 ed upon by the Voice of his People, and by 
 his Parliament, to affift his Son-in-Law, Fre- 
 derick, the Elector Palatine, and King of 
 Bohemia, againft the Emperor Ferdinand, who 
 deprived him at laft of the beft Part of his Do- 
 minions* James, inftead of furnifhing Troops 
 to Frederick, contented himfelf with fending 
 Ambafladors to the Aujirian Court, the Futi- 
 lity of which Conduct was ridiculed upon the 
 Stage at Brujells* 
 
 Majfinger, though from the general Tenor of 
 his Writings, he appears to have been a firm 
 Friend of Monarchy, and warmly attached to 
 Government in Church and State, was not a 
 Favourer of Arbitrary Power, or inclined to 
 put an implicit Faith in the Word of Kings ; he 
 was averfe from embracing the Doctrines of Paf- 
 five Obedience and Non-Refiftance *, fo much 
 
 * The Conduit of Bi and Fletcher fo far as it refpe&s the 
 Duty which Subjects owe to Kings, deferves Notice : They 
 preach up the nioft Unreferved Submiiiion to Princes, and 
 zealoufly maintain 
 
 The Right Divim of Kings to govern Wrong. 
 Vet they make no Scruple of plotting againft, and deftroy- 
 ing tyrannical Princes. 
 
 Vide The Maid's Tragedy. 
 
 f 2 incui-
 
 lxxxiv The LIFE of 
 
 inculcated by James, in his Speeches to Parlia- 
 ment, and his Court Divines in their Sermons. 
 Majfinger was a good Subject, but not like 
 other Poets, his Contemporaries, a flavifh 
 Flatterer of Power, and an Abettor of defpo- 
 tick Principles. 
 
 Our Poet, in his Play of the Maid of Hon- 
 our, under the Characters of Roberto, King" of 
 Sicily, and Fulgentio his Favourite, undoubtedly 
 drew the Portraits of fames and his Minion, 
 Carr or Buckingham, or perhaps both. 
 
 The Duke of Urbino, by his Ambaffador, 
 craves the Affiftance of the King of Sicily. 
 Roberto pleads in his Rcfufal, the Injuftice of 
 the Duke's Caufe. James too, would not own 
 the Title of his Son-in-Law to Bohemia, though 
 he was chofen by the free Votes of the Eflates 
 of that Kingdom ; nor would he permit him 
 to receive the Honours due to his high Rank, 
 from pretended Scruples of Confcience or Mo- 
 tives of Honour. Bertoldo, from many fpi- 
 rited Arguments, urges the King to grant the 
 Duke the requefted Aid. The following 
 Speech will, I believe, confirm my Conjecture 
 of the Sicilian Prince's P^efemblance to our Bri- 
 ti/h Monarch. 
 
 May you live long 
 
 * 'The King of Peace ; fo you deny not us 
 The Glory of the War ; let not our Nerves 
 
 * Rex Pacifcus was a Title that James affe&ed, and was 
 highly pleated with. 
 
 Shrink
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. lxxxv 
 
 Shrink up with Sloth, nor for Want of Em- 
 ployment 
 Make younger Brothers Thieves : *Tis their 
 
 Sword, Sir, 
 Muft fow and reap their Harveft. If Examples 
 May move you more than Arguments, look on 
 
 England, 
 The Emprefs of the European IJles, 
 Unto whom alone ours yields Precedence : 
 When did fie flour ifi fo as whenjfje was 
 'The Mijirefs of the Ocean ? Her Navies 
 Putting a Girdle round about the World. 
 When the Iberian quaked, her Worthies nam d% 
 And the fair Fleur de Lis grew palefet by 
 The RedRofe and the White f Let not our Armour 
 Hungup, or our unrigg d Armada make us 
 Ridiculous to the late poor Snakes, our Neighbours, 
 Warmd in our Bofoms ; and to whom again 
 We may be terrible; while we fpend our Hours 
 Without Variety, connn'd to Drink, 
 Dice, Cards, or Whores. 
 
 When this animated Speech was firft deliver- 
 ed by the Actor, 1 cannot doubt but that it was 
 heard by the Audience with Rapture, and uni- 
 verfally applauded. The Poet fpoke the genuine 
 Senfeof the Nation. James, unhappily for him- 
 felf and his Posterity, inftead of giving free Li- 
 berty to the generous Spirit of his Subjects, and 
 indulging the favourite Paffion of the Nation 
 in the brilk Profecution of a foreign War, by 
 which he might have gained their Love and 
 fecured their Allegiance, cherifhed the Cockle 
 of Difcontent and Sedition, which broke out 
 
 f 3 with
 
 lxxxvi the LIFE of 
 
 with Violence in the Reign of his SuccefTor, and 
 
 caufed the Ruin of the King and Kingdom. 
 
 
 
 Of Fulgentio, King Roberto's Favourite, Ber- 
 toldo fpeaks with the utmoft Contempt: 
 
 Let him keep his Smiles 
 
 For his State Catamite. 
 
 Though James was fuppofed to be averfe 
 from the Fair Sex, and was unfuipected of any 
 Intrigue with Women, yet he was extremely 
 folicitous to gratify the amorous Paffions of hia 
 two great Favourites, Somerfei and Buckingham. 
 To forward the former's Marriage with the 
 Countefs of EJfex, he undertook to prove the 
 Neceflity of a Divorce between her and the 
 Earl her Hulband, propter frigiditatem. Many 
 learned Arguments did he make, and feveral 
 obfcene Expreflions did he ufe, in the Profecu-. 
 tion of this unkingly Bufinefs. But if we may 
 credit Sir Edward Peyton, James carried his 
 Complaifance to his Minion Buckingham ftill 
 farther, even to a fhameful Degree of Pan- 
 darifm, 
 
 " The King entertained Sir John Crofts and 
 his Daughter, a beautiful Lafs, at Newmarket, 
 that Buckingham might have the eaiier Means to 
 vitiate her. And one Mrs. Dorothy Gawdry be- 
 ing a rare Creature, the King carried Bucking- 
 ham to Culford, that he might have his Will 
 of her : But Sir Nicholas Bacon's Sons and Pey- 
 ton himfelf, contrived to fecure the Lady from 
 the King and Buckingham's bafe Intentions *," 
 
 * Peyton's divine Cataftrophc of the Stuarts, 
 
 In
 
 PHILIP MASSIN-GER. Ixxxvli 
 
 In the fame Play of the Maid of Honour, King 
 Roberto, willing to fecond the Paffions of his 
 favourite Fulgentio, employs his Influence to for- 
 ward his Match with Camiola. For that Pur- 
 pofe, he fends her a Ring by the Minion 
 himielf ; but the Lady treats Fulgentio with 
 that proper Contempt which his Chara&er de- 
 fer ves : 
 
 Camiola. Excufe me, Sir, if I 
 Deliver Reafons, why upon no Terms 
 I'll marry you. 
 
 Fulgentio. Come, your wife Reafons. 
 
 Cam. Such as they are, pray you take them: 
 Firft, I am doubtful whether you are a Man; 
 Since for a Shape, trimd up in Lady's DreJJing^ 
 You might pafs for a Woman *. Now I love 
 I'odealon Certainties \ and for the Fairnefs 
 Of your Completion, which you think will take me, 
 *Ihe Colour I mufl tell you in a Man y 
 Is weak and faint. 
 Then as you are a Courtier, 
 A graced one too, I fear you have been too for- 
 ward. 
 And fo much for your Perfon, Rich you arc, 
 Dev'liih rich, as 'tis reported, and furely have 
 The Aids ofSatan's little Fiends to get it : 
 And what is got upon his Back, mufl be 
 Spent, you know where. 
 
 * I have feen Somerfet and Buckingham labour to reicm- 
 b!e Ladies in the Effeminacy of their Dreffings ; though 
 in whorifh Looks and wanton Geftures, they exceeded any 
 Part of Womankind, my Converfation did cope withall. 
 
 OJborne's Memoirs of James I. 
 
 f 4 But
 
 lxxxviii The LIFE of 
 
 But MaJJinger did not confine his Cenfure to 
 perfonal Defects or Vices in the Prince and his 
 Minifters. He extended his Satire to an open 
 Attack upon Mal-adminiftration, and the 
 Abuies of Government. 
 
 The Admirers of the two firfr, Stuarts, Charles 
 and James, will confefs, that though they af- 
 fected to defpife, yet they greatly dreaded, and 
 cordially hated Parliaments ; AfTemblies that 
 were obnoxious to them, becaufe they endea- 
 voured to fix proper Bounds to their Power, 
 and inquired rigoroufly into national Grievan- 
 ces. During their Reigns, Patents, Monopo- 
 lies, Lpans, and Benevolences, were the Abufes 
 "univerfally exclaimed againft:. All thefe raged 
 in full Force, when the Dread of a Houfe of 
 Commons was withdrawn. 
 
 In the Emperor of the Eafi, a Play acted by 
 the Command of Charles I. Maffinger vindicates 
 the Caufe of the Nation againft unjuft and 
 exorbitant Impofitions, and the JSxcefies of regal 
 and minifterial Authority. A Scene between 
 the Projectors and Pulcheria, the Guardian of 
 the Kingdom, in whofe Character I think he 
 intended a Compliment to the Memory of Queen 
 Elizabeth, gave the Author an Opportunity to 
 fpeak the public Senfe upon the Stage : 
 
 Pulchena. Projector, I treat firft 
 Of you and your Difciples ; you roar out, 
 All is the Kings ; his IVHFs above his Laivs x 
 And that fit Tributes are too gentle Yokes 
 
 For
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. lxxxix 
 
 For his poor Subjects ; whifperlng in his Ear, 
 If they would have his Fear, no Man fhould 
 
 dare 
 To bring a Sallad from his Country Garden 
 Without the paying Gabel ; kill a Hen 
 Without Excife; or if he defire 
 To have his Children or his Servants wear 
 Their Heads upon their Shoulders, you affirm 
 In Policy, 'tis fit the Owner fhould 
 Pay for them by the Poll ; or if the Prince 
 Want a certain Sum, he may command a City 
 Impossibilities ; and for Nonperformance, 
 Compel /it to fubmit to any Fine 
 His Officers fhall impofe, &c. 
 
 The Reader of public , Tran factions, during 
 the whole Reign of 'James, and the greateft Part 
 of Charles I. will acknowledge the Juftice of 
 MaJJingcr* s Cenfure. I fhall only obferve, that 
 the City of London was frequently the Object of 
 courtly Impoiition and arbitrary Taxation. 
 From the Authority of Camden, in his An- 
 nals of James I. we learn, that that Mo- 
 narch, in the Year 1620, demanded of the 
 City of London Twenty Thoufand Pounds. 
 As there was no legal Pretence for the Tax, 
 the Citizens did not entirely complv with 
 the royal Mandate ; but willingly, as the fame 
 Author affures us, gave the King Ten Thou- 
 fand Pounds. But enough on this Subject. 
 
 In a peculiar Strain of Eloquence, and mofl 
 pathetick Art of Perfuafion, Majinger equals, 
 if not excells, all Dramatick Writers, ancient 
 
 and
 
 xc the LIFE cf 
 
 and modern ; whether he undertakes the De- 
 fence of injured Virtue, avenges the Wrongs 
 of iuffering Beauty, or pleads the Caufe of 
 infulted Merit ; would he footh, by gentle Infi- 
 nuation, or prevail by Strength of Argument, 
 and the Irradiations of Truth ! Does he ar- 
 raign, fupplicate, reproach, threaten or con- 
 demn ! He is equally powerful, victorious 
 
 and triumphant. What are all the laboured 
 Defences of the Stage, when compared to Pa- 
 ris'* eloquent Vindication of icenical Exhibition 
 before the Roman Senate, in the Tragedy of the 
 Roman Attor f Would the Reader feel the Ef- 
 fects of filial Piety, in its moif amiable and en- 
 thufiaftick Excefs, Jet him read Charolois plead- 
 ing in Behalf of his dead Father, and claiming 
 a Right to his Body, by giving up his own in 
 Exchange, in the Fatal 'Dowry. The fame 
 Charolois, j unifying himfelf from the Charge of 
 Cruelty, in putting to Death an adulterous 
 Wife, exhibits a frill ftrongcr Proof of that 
 inimitable Art, which our Author fo perfectly 
 enjoyed, to move the Paffions, by an irreiiflible. 
 Stream of eloquent and pathetick Language. 
 
 Maffinger is the avowed Champion of the 
 Fair Sex. He lived at a Time when the Spirit 
 of Chivalry, which owed its Inflitution to the 
 Honours due to the beautiful Part of the Crea- 
 tion, was not quite extinguished. And however 
 the Excefles of Knight Errantry may be ridicul- 
 ed, there is fomething noble in the Idea of pro- 
 tecting Beauty in Difhefs, and refcuing female 
 Innocence from OpprefTion. Our Author always 
 rifes above himfelf, when he defcribes Beauty 
 
 and
 
 PHILIP MASSINGER. xci 
 
 and its Effects. When a fine Woman is the Sub- 
 ject, his Verfes run with a fweet Fervour, and 
 pleafing Rapidity ; like Milton, when ruminat- 
 ing on the divine Verfes of Homer and other 
 fublime Poets, Majfingers Ideas when feeding, 
 on his favourite Subject. 
 
 Voluntary move 
 Harmonious Numbers. 
 
 The Females of Beaumont and Fletcher are 
 for the moil Part violent in their Pafiions, ca- 
 pricious in their Manners, licentious, and even, 
 indecent in their Language, 
 
 Mqffmger's Fair Ones are cafr in a very dif- 
 ferent Mold ; they partake juif fo much of the 
 male Virtues, Conftancy and Courage, as to 
 render their feminine Qualities more amiable 
 and attractive. 
 
 Four of our Author's Plays are profefTedly 
 written in Honour of the Fair Sex, The Bond- 
 man, the Bajhful Lover, the Picture, and the 
 Maid of Honour, are fo many beautiful Wreaths, 
 compofed of the choiceft poetical Flowers, and 
 offered on the Shrine of Beauty. 
 
 I have been tempted by my Veneration for 
 this admirable Writer, to go greater Lengths 
 than I intended, in the Inveitigation of his pe- 
 culiar Excellencies. Majjinger,t\\t more he is read 
 will certainly be more eiteemed and approved,for 
 no Author will better bear the itricteft Exami- 
 nation ; the enjoying the Beauties of this Wri- 
 fcj will be attended, perhaps, with fome little 
 
 Mur-
 
 xcii The LIFE of 
 
 Murmuring and Self-upbraiding ; Surprize will 
 be accompanied with Indignation, and Delight 
 with Regret; moil: Readers will lament the 
 having had fuch a noble Treaiure within their 
 Reach, without having once looked upon its 
 Luftre ; and in Proportion as their Negligence 
 has been, will be the Profufion of their Praife 
 and Admiration ! 
 
 Though it mufl: be granted, that Mqffinger, 
 in Compliance with the Times in which he 
 lived, and in Conformity to the Practice of 
 contemporary Writers, did occasionally pro- 
 duce low Characters, and write Scenes of li- 
 centious and reprehensible Dialogue ; yet we 
 mull: remember to his Honour, that he never 
 iports with Religion by prophane Rants or idle 
 Jefting ; nor does he once infult the Clergy, by 
 petulant Witticifm or Common-place Abufe. 
 
 ^*
 
 T O 
 
 Dr. SAMUEL JOHNSON, 
 
 I 
 i 
 
 THIS LIFE of MASSINGER, 
 Is mofl refpe&fully infcribed, 
 As a fmall but fincere Tribute 
 To his liberal and extenfive Learning; 
 
 His great and uncommon Genius; 
 And his univerfal and active Benevolence ; 
 
 By his much obliged 
 
 And moll obedient Servant, 
 
 THOMAS DAVIES.
 
 Speedily will be delivered^ 
 
 PROPOSALS 
 
 For Printing by Subfcription, 
 
 MISCELLANIES, 
 
 By the WRITER of MA S SI N G ER's Life, 
 IN TWO VOLUMES OCTAVO; 
 
 CONSISTING OF 
 
 NOTES and OBSERVATIONS on feveral PLAYS 
 
 O F 
 
 SHAKESPEARE; 
 
 With a Critical REVIEW of his CHARACTERS, 
 
 And thofe of many eminent DRAMATIC POETS, 
 
 As reprefented on the Stag t 
 
 By Mr. G A R R I C K, 
 
 And ether celebrated COMEDIANS? 
 With Akicdow of AUTHORS, ACTORS, cVc> Sec-
 
 VERSES 
 
 T O 
 Mr. PHILIP MASSINGEL 
 
 The Author's Friend to the Reader. 
 (Verses prefixed to the Bondman.) 
 
 THE Printer's Hafte calls on; I muft not drive 
 My Time pafc Six, though I begin at Five. 
 One Hour I have intire, and 'tis enough, 
 Here are no Gipfie Jiggs *, no Drumming Stuff, 
 Dances, or other Trumpery to delight, 
 Or take, by common Way, the common Sight j 
 The Author of this Poeniy as he dares 
 To ftand th' aiifterelt Cenfure; fo he cares 
 As little what it is, his own beft Way 
 Is to be Judge, and Author of his Play : 
 It is his Knowledge makes him thus fecure; 
 Nor does he write to pleafe,- but to indure. -j- 
 And (Reader) if you have difburs'd a Shilling,' 
 To fee this worthy Story/ and are willing 
 To have a large Increafe ; (If rul'd by me) 
 You may a Merchant, and a Poet be : 
 Tis granted for your Twelve- Pence you did fity 
 And fee, and hear, and understand, not yet. 
 
 * Gipfie Jiggs The Writer had in his Mind a Comedy of 
 Middlcton'% called the Gipjies^ in which there is Abundance of 
 Singing and Dancing. 
 
 f But to indare He does not wifh to pleafe for a Day and 
 then to be forgotten, but to lait for Ages. D. 
 
 Vol. I. g The
 
 *cviii VERSES TO 
 
 The Author (in a Chriftian Pity) takes 
 
 Care of your Good,, and prints it for your Sakes, 
 
 That fuch as will but venture Sixpence more, 
 
 May know what they but faw and heard before : 
 
 Twill not be Money loft. If they can read 
 
 (There's all the Doubt now) but your Gains exceed 
 
 If you can underfland, and you're made 
 
 Free of the freeft, and the nobleft Trade ; 
 
 And in the Way of Poetry y now-a-days, 
 
 Of aH that are call'd Works, the beft are Plavs. 
 
 W. B, 
 
 Upon this Work * of his beloved Friend the Author, 
 
 I A M fnapt alreadv and may go my Way ; 
 The Poet Critick's come, I hear him fay 
 This Youth's mrftook, the Author's Work's a Play, 
 
 He could not mifs-it, he will ftrait appear 
 At fuch a Bait ; 'twas laid on purpofe there 
 To take the Vermin,, and I have him here. 
 
 Sirrah I you will be nibbling ; a fmall Bit, 
 A Syllable when you're in the hungry Fit 
 Will ferve to Hay the Stomach of your Wit, 
 
 Fool, Knave r what worfe, for worfe cannot deprave 
 
 thee; 
 And were the Devil inftantly to have thee, 
 Thou canft not inftance fuch a Work to fave thee, 
 
 *Mongft all the Ballets which thou doft compofe, 
 
 And what thou ftileft thy Poems, ill as thofc, 
 
 And void of Rhime and Realon, thy worfe Profe : ' 
 
 Yet like a rude Jack-fauce in Poefie, 
 
 With Thoughts unbleft and Hands unmannerly, 
 
 Ravifliing Branches from Jpolb's Tree ; 
 
 * The Suite of Milan, 
 
 Thou
 
 Mr. P. MASSINGER. xcix 
 
 Thou mak'ft a Garland for thy Touch unfit, 
 And boldly deck'tf thy pig-brain'd Sconce with it, 
 As if it were the fupreme Head of Wit : 
 
 The blamelefs Mufes, who do not allow 
 That reverend Order to each vulgar Brow, 
 Whole finful Touch profanes the holy Bough: 
 
 Hence, {hallow Prophet, and admire the Straine 
 Of thine own Pen, or thy poor Cope-mate's Vein ; 
 This Piece two curious is for thy coarfe Braine."-f 
 
 Here Wit rh6re fortunate is join'd with Art, 
 And that moft facred Frenzy bears a Part 
 Infus'd by Nature in the Poet's Heart. 
 
 Here may the puny Wits themfelv. s direct, 
 Here may the wifeft find what to afFecx, 
 And Kings may learn their proper Dialect; 
 
 On then dear Friend, thy Pen thy Name {hall fpread,- 
 And mould'it thou write, while thou malt not be ready 
 The Mufe muft labour, when thy Hand is dead. 
 
 W. B. J 
 
 To his dear Friend the Author,- on the Roman Actor.- 
 
 I AM no great Admirer of the Plays, 
 Poets, or Adtors, that ate now-a-days ; 
 Yet, in this- Work of thine, methinks, I fee 
 Sufficient Reafon for Idolatrv. 
 
 f Who this fliarp Satire is pointed at cannot pofitively be 
 provedFrom the third Line of" the firft Triplet I fliould imagine 
 B* Jo?ifon, was certainly intended. The Author's Work's a Play, 
 and the Author's Play is a Work, were ExpreiEons frequently 
 fcfed for and againft B. Jon/on. 
 
 I 'Tis the Opinion of Mr. Reed, that the Initials W. B. Hand 
 for William Bic'm>i 1 the Author ot Britannia's Paftorals. I fee 
 no Reafon to think otherwife, except tjiat Ben Jonfen, whom 
 tr.B. feems to attack all through this Poem, had greatly cele- 
 brated Brozvn*s Paftorals ; but indeed Jonfon was fo capricious 
 in his Temper that we muft not fuppolc him to be very conlhmt in 
 his Friendlhips. 2). 
 
 g 2 Each
 
 c Verses to 
 
 Each Line thou haft taught C^tcsar, is as high 
 As he could fpeak, when grov'ling Flattery, 
 And his own Pride (forgetting Heaven's Rod) 
 By his Edicts ftil'd himfelf great Lord and God. 
 By thee, again the Laurel crowns his Head ; 
 And, thus reviv'd, who can affirm him dead ? 
 Such Power lies in this lofty Strain as can 
 Give Swords and Legions, to Domitian : 
 And when thy Paris pleads in the Defence 
 Of Actors, every Grace, and Excellence 
 Of Argument for that Subjed:, are by thee 
 Contracted in a fweet Epitome. 
 Nor do thy Women the tir'd Hearers vex 
 With Language no way proper to their Sex. 
 Juft like a cunning Painter thou let'ft fall 
 Copies more fair than the Original. 
 I'll add but this i From all the modern Plays 
 The Stage hath lately borne, this wins the Bays. 
 And if it come to Trial, boldly look 
 To carry it clear, thy Witnefs being thy Book. 
 
 T. Jay. 
 
 In Philip pi Massingeri, Poet* Ekgantijf. 
 Ac t o r e m Ro manum, typis excufum. 
 
 EC C E Philippine, celebrata Tragsedia Mufae 
 Quam Rofeus Britonum Rofcius egit, adeft. 
 Semper, fronde ambo vireant Parnaflide, femper 
 Liber ab invidiam dentibus efto, Liber. 
 Crebra papyrivori fpernas incendia pati 
 Thus, Vaenum expofiti tegmina futa libri : 
 Nee metuas raucos, Momorum Sybila, rhoncos, 
 Tarn bardus nebulo li tamen ullus, erit. 
 Nam toties feftis, actum, placufle Theatris 
 Quod liquet, hoc, Cufum, crede, placebit, opus. 
 
 Tho. GoFF. 
 
 To
 
 Mr. P. MASSINGER, d 
 
 fyhis deferring Friend, Mr, Philip Massinger, 
 upon his Tragedy, the Roman Actor, 
 
 PARIS, the belt of Actors in his Age, 
 Acts yets, and fpeaks upon our Roman Stage 
 Such Lines by thee, as do not derogate {State. 
 
 From Rome's proud Heights, and her then learned 
 Nor great Demitian's Favour ; nor th' Embraces 
 Of a fair Emprefs, nor thofe often Graces 
 Which from th' applauding Theatres were paid 
 To his brave Action, nor his Ames laid 
 In the Flaminian Way, where People ftrew'd 
 His Grave with Flow'rs, and Martial's Wit beftowM 
 A lading Epitaph ; not all thefe fame 
 Do add lb much Renown to Paris' Name, 
 As this that thou prefent'it, his Hiftory, 
 So well to us. For which, in Thanks, would he 
 (If that his Soul, as thought Pythagoras, *> 
 
 Coirid into any of our Actors pafs) 
 Life to thefe Lines by Action gladly give 
 Whofe Pen fo well has made his Story live, 
 
 Tho May.* 
 
 Upon Mr, Massinger his Roman Actor. 
 
 TO write, is grown fo common in our Time 
 That ev'ry one, who can but frame a Rhime, 
 However monftrous, gives himfeif that Praife 
 Which only he mould claim, that may wear Bays, 
 By their Applaufe whofe Judgments apprehend 
 The Weight, and Truth, of what they dare commend; 
 In this befotted Age, Friend, 'tis thy Glory 
 That here thou hail: out-done the Roman Story, 
 
 * May tranflated Lucan into Englifli Verfe, and was a Candi- 
 date for the Office of Poet Laureat with Sir William Davenanf. 
 He wrote feveral Plays ; his Latin Supplement to J^uca?i is much 
 admired by the learned. D. 
 
 g 3 Pomi*
 
 cii -VERSES TO 
 
 Domitian's Pride ; his Wife's Lull unabated, , 
 In Death ; with Paris, merely were related 
 Without a Soul, until thy abler Pen 
 Spoke them, and made them fpeak, nay adt again 
 In fuch a Height, that here to know their Deeds, 
 He may become an Actor, that but reads. 
 
 John Forde. * 
 
 ) 
 
 LONG 'ST thou to fee proud Casfar fct in State, 
 His Morning Greatnefs, or his Evening Fate, 
 With Admiration here behold him fall, 
 And yet out-live his Tragick Funeral : 
 For 'tis a Queftion whether Caefars Glory 
 Rofeto its Height before, or in this Story, 
 Or whether Paris, in Domitian's Favour, 
 Were more exalted, than in this thy Labour. 
 Eacn Line fpeaks him an Emperor, ev'ry Phrafe; 
 Crowns thy defcrving Temples with the Bays, 
 So that reciprocally both, agree : 
 Thou liv'lt in him, and he furvives in thee. 
 
 Robert HARVEy t 
 
 To Fis long knozun and loved Friend, Mr. Phili? 
 M a s s i n c e r, upon his Roman Actor. 
 
 IF that my Lines, ^cing plac'd before thy Book, 
 Could make it fell, or alter but a Look 
 Of fome four Cenfurer, who's apt to fay, 
 No one in thefe Times can produce a Play 
 Worthy his reading, fince of late, 'tis true, 
 The old accepted are more than the new : 
 Or, could I on fame Spark o'the Court work fo, 
 To make him fpeak no more than he doth know ; 
 
 * John Forde was the Author of 'Th Pity She's a Whore, 3 
 Tragedy, and fevcral other Dramatick Pieces. 
 
 Not
 
 Mr. P. MASSING ER. c# 
 
 Not borrowing from his flatt'ring flatter'd Friend 
 What to difpraife, or wherefore to commend : 
 Then (gentle Friend) I mould not blufh to be 
 Rank'd 'mongft thofe worthy ones, which here I fee 
 Ufhering this Work ; but why I write to thee 
 Is, to profefs our Love's Antiquity, 
 Which to this Tragedy mult give my Tefl, 
 Thou haft made many good, but this thy beft 
 
 Joseph Taylor. * 
 
 To my honoured Friend, Mqfter Philip M as singer, 
 upon his Renegado, 1630, 
 
 DABBLERS in Poetry, that onely can 
 Court this weak Lady or that Gentleman, 
 With fome loofe Witt in Rime ; 
 Others that fright the Time 
 Into Belief, with mighty Words that tear 
 A PalTage through the Ear ; 
 Or nicer Men, 
 That through a Perfpedtive will fee a Play, 
 And ufe it the wrong Way, 
 (Not worth thy Pen) 
 Though all their Pride exalt 'em, cannot be 
 Competent Judges of thy Lines or thee. 
 I muft confefs I have no Publick Name 
 To refcue Judgement, no Poetick Flame 
 To drefs thy Mufe with Praifc, 
 And Phcebus his owne Bayes ; 
 Yet I commend this Poem, and dare tell 
 The World I lik'd it well ; 
 And if there be 
 A Tribe who in their Wifdoms dare accufc 
 This Offspring of thy Mufe, 
 Let them agree 
 
 Jofcph Taylor was a very celebrated Comedian. He afted the 
 Cfcaraaer oi Fan's in the Play he fo amply commends. D. 
 
 7, 
 
 ter oi Paris in the Plaj 
 
 g 4 Con-
 
 civ VERSESTO 
 
 Confpire one Comedy, and they will fay, 
 
 ** 'Tis eafier to Commend, then Make a Play." 
 
 James Shirley, 
 
 To his worthy Friend Mqjler Philip Massinger^ 
 on his Play calld the Renegado. 
 
 TH E Bofom of a Friend cannot breath forth 
 A flattYing Phrafe to fpeak the noble Worth 
 Of him that hath lodg'd in his honeit Breaft, 
 So large a Title : I, among the reft 
 That honour thee do only feem to praife. 
 Wanting the Flow'rs of Art, to deck that Bays 
 Merit has crown'd thy Temples with. Know, Friend | 
 Though there are fome, who merely do commend 
 To live i' th' World's Opinion, fuch as can 
 Cenfure with Judgement, no fuch Piece of Man, 
 Makes up my Spirit; where Defert does live, 
 There will I plant my Wonder, and there give 
 My beft Endeavours to build up his Story 
 That truly merits. I did ever glory 
 To behold Virtue rich ; though cruel Fate 
 In fcornful Malice boes beat low their State 
 That belt deferve ; when others, that but know 
 Onlv to (cribble, and no more, oft grow 
 Great in their Favours, that would ieem to be 
 Patrons of Wit, and modeft Poefy : 
 Yet, with your abler Friends, let me fay this, 
 Many may ftrive to equal you, but mifs 
 Of your fair Scope ; this Work of yours Men may 
 *!Throw in the Face of Envy, and then fay 
 To thofe, that are in great Mens Thoughts more blelt^ 
 Imitate this, and call that Work your bell:. 
 Yet wife Men, in this, and too often, err, 
 When they their Love before the Work prefer. 
 If I mould fay more, fome may blame me for't, 
 Seeing your Merits fpeak you, not Report. 
 
 Daniel Lakyn. 
 
 "10
 
 Mr. P. MASSINGER, cv 
 
 To his worthy Friend, Mr. Philip Massinger^ 
 upon his Tragi-Comedy, ftiled, the Picture. 
 
 MEthinks I hear fome bufy.Critick fay, 
 Who's this that fingly ufhers in this Play? 
 'Tis Boldnefs, I confefs, and yet perchanee 
 It may be conftru'd Love, not Arrogance. 
 I do not here upon this Leaf intrude 
 By praifing one, to wrong a Multitude. 
 Nor do I think, that all "are ty'd to be 
 (Forc'd by my Vote) in the fame Creed with me, 
 Each Man hath Liberty to judge : Free Will, 
 At his own Pleafure to fpeak Good, or I'll. 
 But yet your Mufe already's known fo well 
 Her worth will hardly find an Infidel,. 
 Ir^ere fr^e hath drawn a Picture, which fnall lie 
 Safe for all future Times to practice by; 
 Whate'er mail follow are but Copies, fome 
 Preceding Works were Types of this to come, 
 'Tis your own lively Image, and fets forth, 
 When we are Duft, the Beauty of your Worth, 
 He that fhall duly read, and not advance 
 Ought that is here, betrays his Ignerance. 
 Yet whofoe'er beyond Defert commends, 
 Errs more by much than he that reprehends ; 
 For Praife mifplaced, and Honour fet upon 
 A worthlefs Subject, is Detraction. 
 I cannot fm fo here ? unlefs I went 
 About, to ilyle you only Excellent. 
 Apollo's Gifts are not confln'd alone 
 To your Difpofe, he hath more Heirs than one, 
 And fuch as do derive from his blcit Hand 
 A large Inheritance in the Poet's Land, 
 As well as you ; nor are you I allure 
 Alyfelf fo envious, but you can endure [knQwn, 
 To hear their Praife, whofe Worth long fmce was 
 And juitly too prefer'd before your own, 
 
 I know
 
 cvi VFRSES TO 
 
 I know you'd take it for an Injury, 
 
 (And 'tis a well-becoming Modefty) 
 
 To be parallcl'd with Beaumont, or to hear 
 
 Your Name by fome too partial Friend writ near 
 
 Unequal'd Jonlbn ; being Men whole Fire, 
 
 At Diftancc, and with Rev'rence, you admire* 
 
 Do fo, and you (hall find your Gain will be 
 
 Much more, by yielding them Priority, 
 
 Than with a Certainty of Lois to hold 
 
 A foolifh Competition : 'tis too bold 
 
 A Tafk, and to be fliun'd ; nor mall mv Praife, 
 
 With too much Weight ruin what it would raiie. 
 
 Thomas Jay. * 
 
 To my worthy Friend, Mr. Philip Massing er, 
 upon his 'L'ragi-Comedy, called the Emperor of tlx 
 East. 
 
 SUFFER, my Friend, thefe Lines to havethcGrace, 
 That they may be a Mole on Venus' Face. 
 There is no Fault about thy, Book, but this ; 
 And it will fhew how fair tfry Emperor is. 
 Thou more than Poet ! our Mercury, that art 
 Apollo's MefTenger, and do'ft impart 
 Hisbeft Expreffions to our Ears, live long 
 To purify the flighted Englifh Tongue, 
 That both the Nymphs of Tagus and of Po, 
 May not henceforth defpife our Language fo. 
 Nor could they do it, if they e'er had ften 
 The matchlefs Features of the Fairy Queen ; 
 
 * Sir Thomas Jay's Eulogium isvery lingular and is widely differ- 
 ent from any that 1 ever read Molt Writers of Commendatory 
 Verfes facrifice all Authors, the Living and the Dead, on the 
 Shrine of their Favourite Ido! But Sir Thomas is fo far from 
 gratifying the Vanity of his Friend, that he puts him in Mind of 
 his Inferiority to Beaumont and Jon/on However we may in this 
 differ from the Knight's Opinion, his Lines are an evident Proof 
 of his own Integrity and Majfinger's Modefty. >. 
 
 Read
 
 Mr. P. MASSINGER. cvii 
 
 Read Jonfon, Shakefpear, Beaumont, Fletcher, or 
 
 Thy neat-limned Pieces, ikilful Maffinger. 
 
 Tho known, all the Caitilians muft confefs 
 
 Vego de Carpio thy Foil, and blefs 
 
 His Language can tranflate thee, and the fine 
 
 Italian Wits, yield to this Work of thine. 
 
 Were old Pythagoras alive again, 
 
 In thee he might find Reaibn to maintain 
 
 His Paradox, that Souls by Tranfmigration 
 
 In divers Bodies make their Habitation : 
 
 And more, that all Poetick Souls yet known. 
 
 Are met in thee, contracted into one. 
 
 This is a Truth, not an Applaufe : I am 
 
 One that at fartheft Diftance view thy Flame, 
 
 Yet may pronounce, that, were Apollo dead, 
 
 In thee his Poefy might all be read. 
 
 Forbear thy Modefty ; thy Emperor's Vein 
 
 Shall live admir'dj when Poets mail complain 
 
 It is a Pattern of too high a Reach, 
 
 And what great Phoebus might the Mufes teach, 
 
 Let it live, therefore, and I dare be bold 
 
 To fay, it with the World mall not grow old. 
 
 Aston Cockaine, 
 
 A Friend to the Author, and Well-w'iflder to the 
 Reader. 
 
 WH O with a liberal Hand, freely beftows 
 His Bounty, on all Comers, and yet knows 
 No Ebb, nor formal Limits, but proceeds 
 Continuing his hofpitable Deeds, 
 With daily Welcome mail advance his Name 
 Beyond the Art of Flattery ; with fuch Fame, 
 May yours (dear Friend) compare. Your Mule hath 
 Moit bountiful, and I have often feen [been, 
 
 The willing Seats receive fuch as have fed, 
 And rifen thankful ; yet were fome milled 
 
 By
 
 cviii VERSES TO 
 
 Bv Nicety, when this fair Banquet came 
 (o I allude) their Stomachs were to blame, 
 Becaufe that excellent, iharp, and poignant SaucQ 
 Was wanting, they arofe without due Grace, 
 Lo ! thus a i'econd Time he doth invite you : 
 Be your own Carvers, and it may delight you. 
 
 John Clavell, 
 
 . ' ' ' ' ' ' j 
 
 To my true Friend and Kinfman, Phili p 
 Massingir. 
 
 IT A K E not upon Trull, nor am I led 
 By an implicit Faith : what I have read 
 With an impartial Cenfure I dare crown 
 With a deferv'd Applaufe, howe'er cry'd down 
 JBy fuch whofe Malice will not let 'em be 
 Equal to any Piece limn'd forth by thee. 
 Contemn their poor Detraction, and ftill write 
 Poems like this, that can endure the Light, 
 And Search of abler Judgements. This will raife 
 Thy Name ; the other's Scandal is thy Praife. 
 This, oft perus'd by grave Wits, fhall live long, 
 Not die as foon as pait the Actor's Tongue, 
 (The Fate of nighter Toys) and I mufl fay, 
 'Tis not enough to make a pafling Play, 
 In a true Poet : Works that mould endure, 
 Muft have a Genius in 'em, ftrong as pure. 
 And fuch is thine, Friend : nor mail Time devour 
 'JThe well-form'd Features of thy Emperor. 
 
 William Singleton. 
 
 To my worthy Friend the Author, upon his Tragi-* 
 Comedy, the Maid of Honour, 
 
 WA S not thy Emperor enough before 
 For thee to give, that thou doit give us more ? 
 I would be juft, but cannot : that I know 
 I did not flander, this I fear I do. 
 
 But
 
 Mr. P. M A S S I N G E L cix 
 
 But pardon me, if I offend : Thy Fire 
 Let equal Poets praifc, while I admire. 
 If any fay that I enough have writ, 
 They are thy Foes, and envy thee thy Wit. 
 Believe not them, nor me; they know thy Lines 
 Deferve Applaufe, but fpeak againit their Minds. 
 I, out of Juftice, would commend thy Play, 
 But (Friend, forgive me) 'tis above my Way. 
 One Word, and I have done (and from my Heart 
 Would I could fpeak the whole Truth, not the Part) 
 Becaufe 'tis thine ; it henceforth will be faid, 
 Not the Maid of Honour, but the Honour'd Maid. 
 
 ASTON COCKAINE.* 
 
 To the ingenious Author, Majler Philip Massinger, 
 on his Comedy, called, A New Way to Pay 
 Old Debts. 
 
 ? r T^ I S a rare Charity, and thou could'lt not 
 
 A So proper to the Time have found a Plot : 
 Yet whilft you teach to pay, you lend, the Age 
 We Wretches live in ; that to come, the Stage 
 The thronged Audience that was thither brought 
 Invited by your Fame, and to be taught 
 This Leffbn. All are grown indebted more, 
 And when they look for Freedom ran in Score. 
 It was a cruel Courtefy to call, 
 In Hope of Liberty, and then, enthral. 
 The Nobles are your Bondmen, Gentry, and 
 All befides thofc that did not underfland. 
 
 * Sir AJlon CockaineWiis the Friend, Companion and Patron of 
 the Dramatick Poets who lived in the Reign of Charles the Firft ; 
 his Regard for Maffingcr induced him to write feveral Copies of 
 Verfes in his Praife, befides his Epitaph. 
 
 From hisfocial Manner of Living we may reasonably conjecture 
 that he was an agreeable and pleaiant Companion but his o.ni 
 Poems and Plays do not contain anv ftrong marks of Genius or 
 Taite, D. 
 
 They
 
 ex VERSES fd 
 
 They were no Men of Credit, Bankrupts born,- 
 Fit to be trufted with no Stock, but Scorn* 
 You have more wifely credited to fuch^ 
 That though they cannot pay, can value much. 
 I am your Debtor too, but to my Shame, 
 Repay you nothing back, but your own Fame. 
 
 Henry Moody.* Miles* 
 
 To his Friend /^Author.- 
 
 YO U may remember how you chid me, when 
 I rank'd you equal with thofe glorious Men 
 Beaumont and Fletcher : If you love not Praife,, 
 You muft forbear the publishing of Flays.- 
 The crafty Mazes of the cunning Plot, 
 The polinYd Phrafe, the fweet Expreflions, got 
 Neither by Theft, nor Violence ; the Conceit 
 Frefh and unfullied ; all is of Weight, 
 Able to make the captive Reader know 
 I did but Juftice when I plac'd you fo* 
 A fhamefae'd Bluming would become the Brow 
 Of fome weak Virgin Writer, we allow, 
 To you a Kind of Pride ; and there where mod 
 Should blufh at Commendations, you ihould boafh 
 If any think I flatter, let him look 
 Off from my idle Trifles on thy Book, 
 
 Thomas Jay. Miles* 
 
 To Mr. Philip Massinger, my much ejleemW Friend s 
 on his Great Duke of Florence. 
 
 ENJOY thy Laurel ! 'tis a noble Choice, 
 1 Not by the Suffrages of Voice 
 Procur'd : but by a Conqueft fo atchiev'd, 
 As that thou hail at full reliev'd 
 
 Almofl 
 
 * Sir Henry Moocjy was the Friend of Mafjingcr, but his Vcrfes 
 contift ot nothing but a String of pitiful Puns upon the Title of 
 the Play. D,
 
 Mr. P. MASSINGER. cxi 
 
 Almoft neglected Poetry, whofe Bavs 
 (Sully'd by childiih thirft of Praife) 
 
 Wither'd into a Dullnefs of Defpair, s 
 
 Had not thy later Labour (Heir 
 
 Unto a former Induftry) made known 
 
 This Work, which thou may'ft call thine own, 
 
 So rich in Worth, that th' Ignorant may grudge 
 
 To find true Virtue is become their Judge. 
 
 George Donne, 
 
 To the deferving Memory of this worthy Work *, and tlit 
 Author Mr, Philip Massinger. 
 
 ACTION gives many Poems Right to live ; 
 This Piece gave Life to Action ; and will give 
 For State, and Language, in each Change of Age, 
 To Time, Delight ; and Honour to the Stage. 
 Should late Prefcription fail which fames that Seat, 
 This Pen might ftyle The Duke of Florence Great. 
 Let many write : let much be printed, read, 
 And cenfur'd : Toys; no fooner hatch'd than dead. 
 Here, without Blufh to Truth of Commendation, 
 Is prov'd, how Art hath out-gone Imitation. 
 
 John Ford, 
 
 * The Great Duke of Florence. 
 
 Thefe Commendatroy Verfes are for the greateft'Part more re- 
 markable for Zeal and Affection to the Author, whom thev ce ie- 
 brare, than for Art of Compofition or Vigour of Genius in the 
 Writer! : However it muft be confefled that //'. 7?'s Triplets are 
 fprightly and very fatirical, and May's Commendation of the Ro- 
 man Aftor is written with fome Poetical Spirit. Sir Thomas Jay* 
 Panegyricks are more judicioufly conceived, as well as more har- 
 inonioutly exprefled, than any of the Poems in Honour of IvLvji-.- 
 gcr. Amongft the many Applaudtrs of the Kenan A8er r Gu,f 
 alone has done Jufrice to the Merit of Toy/or*} Repre fen ration of 
 Paris: He indeed has bellowed a joint Wreath upon the Au- 
 thor and the Aclor : The reft feem to have proudly overlooked 
 this great Comedian's Merit Nay fome cf them have wantonly 
 iu.mniated a Deficiency of Abilities in the Aelor to do Juiiice lo 
 hS Author. Z>.
 
 A LIST of the OLD EDITIONS of 
 
 Massinger's Plays. 
 
 i r T" , HE Virgin Martyr, 
 X T. aded by the Servants 
 of the Revels, 4to 16224 4to 
 1651, 4to 1661. 
 
 Decker joined in this Play. 
 
 2 The Duke of Milan, T; 
 
 aded at Black Fryars, 4to 
 1623, 4to 1638. 
 
 3 The Bondman, an antient 
 
 Story, aded at the Cockpit, 
 Drury Lane, \to 1624, 4to 
 1638, 8vo 1 719- 
 
 4 The Roman Actor, T. 
 
 aded at Black Fryers, 4to 
 1629, 8vo 1722. 
 
 5 The Renegado, T. C. 
 
 aded at the Globe and Black 
 Fryers, t\XO 1630. 
 
 6 The Picture, T. C. acted 
 
 at the Globe and Black Fryers 
 4to 1630. t 
 
 7 The Emperor of the East, 
 
 T. C. acted at the Globe 
 and Black Fryers, 4to 1632. 
 
 8 The Maid of Honour, 
 
 aded at the Pbcenix, Drury 
 Lane, 4 to 1632. 
 
 9 The Fatal Dowry, T. 
 
 acted at Black Fryers, \\o 
 
 1632. Nathaniel Field 'join- 
 ed in this Tragedy. 
 
 to A new way to pay old 
 debts, C. aded at the 
 Pbcenix, Drury Lane, 4to 
 1633. 
 
 11 The Great Duke of Flo- 
 
 rence, a comical Riftory, 
 acted at the Pbcenix, Drury 
 Lane, \Xo 1636. 
 
 12 TheUNNATURALCoMBAT, 
 
 T. aded at the Globe, 4to 
 1639. 
 
 13 The Bashful Lover, C. 
 
 acted at Black Fryers, 8vo 
 1655. 
 
 14 The Guardian, a comi- 
 
 cal Hiltory, adted at Black 
 Fryers, 8vo 1655. 
 
 15 A Very Woman: or the 
 
 Prince of Tare nt, T. C. 
 aded at Black Fryers, 8vo 
 1655. 
 
 16 The Old Law : of a New 
 
 Way to Please Yow, C 
 aded at Salifbury Houfe, 4*0 
 1656. Tbomas Middieton and 
 William Rozvlcy joined in 
 this Play. 
 
 17 TheCiTY Madam, C. acted 
 
 at Black Fryers, \X.Q 1659. 
 
 In a Lift of Dramatick Authors, printed at the End of the fecond Volume 
 of Cibber's Life, under the Article Mafjingcr, I find the following Obferva- 
 tion : Mr. MuJ/mger, I believe, was Author of feveral other Dramatic Pieces ; 
 one I have feeu in Manulciipt, which I am afiured was acted, by the proper 
 Quotations ; the Title runs thus, Believe as yuu Lift Wl men by Mr. M"Jfi" ; 
 with the following Licence : 
 
 This Play called Believe as you Lift, may be Acled this 6th of May, \6$\. 
 Henry Herbert. 
 
 I believe this to be a Tranfcript from Chetwood, the Prompter, w ho wrote 
 the Lives of the Aclors, Pubhfhcd 1744. 
 
 AntonyWood afcribesto Maf/mger the Powerful Favourite, or the Life of Sejanus, 
 Pnhlifhed in 1628. But this Work, w,~s originally written in French by Peter 
 Matthieu; Wood Avas perhaps deceived by the Initials P. M. in the Tiile 
 Page, which might induce him to place ii to our Author. Hov.xvei we can- 
 nol pcetcttf) u> fay who was the Tranfiatoi-. U.
 
 THE 
 
 P I C T U R E. 
 
 TRAGI-COME'DY.
 
 t 6 
 
 My Honoured and Selected Friends 
 
 of *r H E 
 
 Noble Society of the Inner Temple; 
 
 T T may be objetled, my not infer ibing their Nantes, or 
 * Title's, to whom I dedicate this Poem,proceedeth either 
 from my Diffidence of their Affetlion to me, or their Un- 
 willingnefs to bepublified the Patrons of a Trifle. To fuch 
 asjhall make fo Jlricl an Inquifition of me, I truly anjwer^ 
 Tht Play, in the Prefentment, found fuch a general Appro- 
 bation, that it gave me affurance of their Favour to whofe 
 Protection it is nowfiicred; and they have profeffed they 
 fofincerely allow of it, and the Maker, that 'they would 
 have freely granted that in the Publication, which , for fome 
 Reafons I denied myfelf One, and that is a main one ; 
 I had rather enjoy fas I have done) the real Proofs of 
 their Friend/trip; than Mountebank-like boafi their Numbers ' 
 in a Catalogue. Accept it, noble Gentlemen, as a Confir- 
 mation of his Service, who hath nothing elfe to ajfureyoU} 
 and witnefs to the World hojju much hejiands engaged for 
 your fo frequent Bounties, and in your charitable Opinion 
 of me believe, that you nozv may, and ever Jhall command, 
 
 Your Servant, 
 
 Philip Massinger. 
 
 A 2
 
 Dramatis Perfonae. 
 
 Ladiflaus, King of Hungary, 
 
 Enbulus, an old Counsellor. 
 
 Ferdinand, General of the 
 Army. 
 
 Mat hi as, a Knight of Bo- 
 hemia. 
 
 Ubaldo, TTwo wild Cour- 
 
 Ricardo, 3 tiers. 
 
 Hilario, Servant to Sophia, 
 
 Julio Baptifta, a great 
 Scholar. 
 
 Honor ia, the Queen. 
 Acanthe, a Maid of Honour* 
 Sophia, Wife to Mathias. 
 Corifca, Sophia's Woman. 
 
 Six Mafquers. 
 
 Six Servants to the Queen. 
 
 Attendants. 
 
 The Original Attors* 
 
 Robert Benfield. 
 John Lewin. 
 Richard Sharpe. 
 
 Joseph Taylor. 
 
 Thomas Pollard. 
 Eylardt Swanstqne* 
 John Shanuke. 
 William Pen. 
 
 John Thomson. 
 Alexander Goffe* 
 John Hunnieman. 
 William Trigger
 
 THE 
 
 P I C T U R E. 
 
 A TRUE 
 
 HUNGARIAN HISTORY. 
 
 i " * ' . i !! ' ' i . ' i ' i ' i i - . i . 
 
 A C T I, S C E N E I. 
 
 JLntcr Mathias in Armour, Sophia in a riding Suit, Co- 
 rifca, Hjlario, with other Servants, 
 
 Mathias, 
 
 SINCE we muftpart, Sophia, to pafs further 
 Is not alone impertinent, but dangerous. 
 We are not diltant from the Turkijh Camp 
 Above five Leagues, and who knows but fome Party 
 Of his Timariots, that fcour the Country, 
 May fall upon us ? be now, as thy Name 
 Truly interpreted, hath ever fpoke thee, 
 Wife, anddifcreet, and to thy Underltanding 
 Marry thy conftant Patience,. 
 
 Soph, You put me, Sir, 
 To the utmoft Trial of it. 
 
 Math, Nay, no Melting ; 
 Since the Neceflity that now feparates us, 
 We have long fince difputed, and the Reafons 
 Forcing me to it, too oft wafh'd in Tears. 
 I grant that you in Birth were far above me, 
 And great Men, my Superiors, Rivals for you ; 
 But mutual Confent of Heart, as Hands 
 Join'd by true Love, hath made us one, and equal : 
 
 A3
 
 6 THEPCTURE, 
 
 Nor is it in me mere Defire of Fame, 
 
 Or to be cry'd up by the publick Voice 
 
 For a brave Soldier, that puts on my Armour ; 
 
 Such airy Tumours take not me. You know 
 
 How narrow our Demeans are, and what is more^ 
 
 Having as yet no Charge of Children on us. 
 
 We hardly can fubfift. 
 
 Soph. In you alone, Sir, 
 I have all Abundance. 
 
 Matk. For my Mind's Content, 
 In your own Language I could anfwer you ; 
 You have been an obedient Wife, a right one ; 
 And to my Power, though ftiort of your Defert, 
 I have been ever an indulgent Hufband. 
 We have long enjoy'd the Sweets of Love, and though 
 Not to Satiety, or Loathing, yet 
 We muft not live fuch Dotards on our Pleafures, 
 As ftill to hug them to the certain Lofs 
 Of Profit and Preferment. Competent Means 
 Maintains a quiet Bed ; Want breeds Diflention, 
 Even in good Women. 
 
 Soph, Have you found in me, Sir, 
 Any Diftafte ; or Sign of Difcontent, 
 For want of what's fuperfluous ? 
 
 Math. No, Sophia ; 
 Nor malt thou ever have Caufe to repent 
 Thy conftant Courfe in Goodnefs ; if Heaven bleis 
 My honeft Undertakings. 'Tis for thee 
 That I turn Soldier, and put forth, Deareft, 
 Upon this Sea of Action as a Factor, 
 To trade for rich Materials to adorn 
 Thy noble Parts and ihew 'em in full Luftre. 
 I blufh that other Ladies, lefs in Beauty 
 And outward Form (but in the Harmony 
 Of the Soul's ravifhing Mufic, the fame Age 
 Not to be nam'd with thee) mould fo out-fhine thee\ 
 In Jewels and Variety of Wardrobes ; 
 Wjiile you (to whofe fweet Innocence both Indies 
 Compar'd are of no Value) wanting thefe 
 Pafs unregarded.
 
 THE PICTURE. 7 
 
 Soph. If I am fo rich, or 
 In your Opinion fo, why fhould you borrow 
 Additions for me ? 
 
 Math. Why ! I mould be cenfur'd 
 Of Ignorance, poffemng fuch a Jewel 
 Above all Price, if I forbear to give it 
 The beft of Ornaments. Therefore, Sophia, 
 In few Words know my Pleafure, and obey me, 
 As you have ever done- To your Difcretion 
 J leave the Government of my Family, 
 And our poor Fortunes, and from thefe command 
 Obedience to you as to myfelf : 
 To the utmoft of what's mine live plentifully ; 
 And ere the Remnant of our Store be fpent, 
 With my good Sword, I hope, I ihall reap for you 
 A Harveft in fuch full Abundance, as 
 Shall make a merry Winter. 
 
 Soph. Since you are not 
 To be diverted, Sir, from what you purpofe, 
 All Arguments to ftay you here are ufelefs. 
 Go when you pleafe, Sir: Eyes, I charge you wafte nqj^ 
 One Drop of Sorrow, look you hoard all up 
 Till in my widow'd Bed I call upon you, 
 But then be fure you fail not. You bleft Angels, 
 Guardians of human Life ! I at this Inftant 
 Forbear t'invoke you : at our Parting, 'twere 
 To perfonate Devotion. My Soul 
 {Sfrali go along with you, and when you are 
 Circled with Death and Horror, feek and find you ; 
 And then I will not leave a Saint unfu'd to 
 For your Protection, To tell you what 
 I will do in your Abfence, would mew poorly ; 
 My Actions Ihall fpeak for me ; 'twere to doubt you, 
 To beg I may hear from you where you are ; 
 You cannot live obfcure, nor Ihall one Poll 
 By Night, or Day, pafs unexamin'd by me. 
 If I dwell long upon your Lips, confider 
 After this Feaft the griping Faft that follows, 
 And it will be excufable ; Pray turn from me. 
 411 that I can is fpoken. [*// Sophia. 
 
 A 4
 
 S THE PICTURE. 
 
 Math. Follow your Miftrefs. 
 Forbear your Wi&es for me ; let me find 'em 
 At mv Return, in your prompt Will to ferve her. 
 
 Hil For my Part, Sir, I will grow lean with Study 
 To make her merry, 
 
 Corif. Though you are my Lord, 
 Yet being her Gentlewoman, by my Place 
 I may take my leave ; your Hand, or if you pleafe 
 To have me fight fo high, I'll not be coy, 
 Bur ftand a tip-toe for't. 
 
 Math. O ! farewell, Girl. 
 
 Hil. A Kifs, well begg'd, Corifca. 
 
 Corif. 'Twas my fee ; 
 Jove, how he melts ! I cannot blame my Lady's 
 Unwillingneis to part with fuch Marmelade Lips, 
 There will be fcramblmg for 'em in the Camp ; 
 And were it not for my Honefty, I cou'd wiih now 
 I were his leiger Landrefs, I would find 
 Soap of mine own, enough to wafh his Linen, 
 Or I would itrain hard for't. 
 Hil. How the Mammet twitters ! 
 Come, come, my Lady flays for us. 
 
 Corif. Would I had been 
 Her Ladyfhip the la-ft Night. 
 
 Hil. No more of that, Wench. 
 
 {Exeunt Hilario and Corifca, 
 
 Math. I am ftrangely troubled : Yet why I mould 
 nourim 
 A Fur}- here, and with imagin'd Food ? 
 Having no real Grounds on which to raife 
 A Building of Sufpicion fhe ever was, 
 Or can be falfe hereafter ? I in this 
 But fooliihly inquire the Knowledge of 
 A future Sorrow, which, if I find out, 
 My prefent Ignorance were a cheap Purchafe, 
 Though with my lofs of Being. I have already 
 Dealt with a Friend of mine, a general Scholar, 
 One deeply read in Nature's hidden Secrets, 
 And (though with much Unwillingnefs) have won him
 
 THE PICTURE, $ 
 
 To do as much as Art can to refolve me 
 
 ^ly Fate that follows To my wifh he's come, 
 
 Enter Baptifta. 
 
 Julio Baptijla, now I may affirm 
 Your Promife and Performance walk together ; 
 And therefore, without Circumftance, to the Point, 
 Inftruct. me what I am. 
 
 Bapt. I could wifh you had 
 ^lade Trial of my Love fome other Way. 
 
 Math. Nay, this is from the Purpofe. 
 
 Rapt. If you can, 
 Proportion your Defire to any Mean, 
 I do pronounce you happy : I have found, 
 By certain Rules of Art, your matchlefs Wife 
 Is to this prefent Hour from all Pollution 
 Free and untainted. 
 
 Math. Good. 
 
 Bapt. In reafon therefore 
 You mould fix here, and make no farther Search 
 Of what may fall hereafter. 
 
 Math. O Baptifta ! 
 5 Tis not in me to matter fo my Paffions ; 
 I muft know farther, or you have made good 
 But half your Promife. While my Love flood by, 
 Holding her upright, and my Prefence was 
 A Watch upon her, her Delires being met too 
 With equal Ardour from me, what one Proof 
 Could flie give of her Conftancy, being untempted ? 
 But when I am abfent, and my coming back 
 Uncertain, and thofe wanton Heats in Women 
 Not to be quench'd by lawful Means, andfhe 
 The abfolute Difpofer of herfelf, 
 Without Controul or Curb ; nay more, invited 
 By Opportunity and all ftrong Temptations, 
 If then fhe hold out 
 
 Bapt. As no doubt me will. 
 
 Math. Thofe Doubts muft be made Certainties, 
 Baptijla,
 
 u> THE PICTURE. 
 
 By your Aflurance, or your boafted Art 
 Peferves no Admiration. How you trifle 
 And play with my Affliction ! I'm on 
 The rack, till you confirm me. 
 
 Baft. Sure, Mat bias, 
 I am no God, nor can I dive into 
 Her hidden Thoughts, or know what her Intents are ; 
 Thax is deny'd to Art, and kept conceal'd 
 E'en from the Devils themfelves : They can but guefs, 
 Out of long Obfervation, what is likely; 
 But pofitively to foretel that this mall be 
 You may conclude impoflible ; all I can 
 I will,do for you, when your are diflant from her 
 A thoufand Leagues, as if you then were with her ; 
 You fhall know truly when me is folicited, 
 And how far wrought on. 
 
 Math. I defire no more. 
 
 Bapt. Take then this little Model of Sophia, 
 With more than human Skill limn'd to the Life; 
 Each Line and Lineament of it in the Drawing 
 So punctually obferved, that, had it Motion, 
 In fo much 'twere herfelf. 
 
 Math. It is, indeed, 
 An admirable Piece ; but if it have not 
 Some hidden Virtue that I cannot guefs at, 
 In what can it advantage me ? 
 
 Bapt. I'll inftruct you ; 
 Carry it ftill about you, and as oft 
 As you defire to know how ftie's affected, 
 With curious Eyes perufe it: While it keeps 
 The Figure it now has intire and perfect, 
 She is not only innocent in Fact, 
 But unattempted ; but if once it vary 
 From the true Form, and what's now white and red 
 Incline to yellow, reft mod confident 
 She's with all Violence courted, but unconquer'd. 
 But if it turn all black, 'tis an Aflurance 
 The Fort, by Compofition or Surprize, 
 Is forc'd, or with her free Confent, furrender'd,
 
 THE PICTURE, i% 
 
 Math. How much you have engag'd me for this Fa-? 
 vour, 
 The Service of my whole Life fhall make good. 
 
 Bapt. We will not part fo ; I'll along with you, 
 And it is needful with the rifing Sun 
 The Armies meet; yet ere the Fight begin, 
 In fpite of Oppofition I will place you 
 In the Head of the Hungarian General's Troop, 
 And near his Perfon. 
 
 Math. As my better Angel 
 You fhall direcl: and guide me. 
 
 Bapt. As we ride 
 I'll tell you more. 
 
 Math. In all things I'll obey you. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Ubaldo and Ricardo. 
 
 J Ric. When came the Poft ? 
 
 Ubal. The laft Night. 
 
 Ric. From the Camp ? 
 
 Ubal. Yes, as 'tis faid, and the Letter writ and fign'd 
 By the General Ferdinand. 
 
 Ric. Nay, then fans queftion 
 It is of Moment. 
 
 Ubal. k concerns the Lives 
 Of two great Armies ( 
 
 Ric. Was it chearfully < 
 Received by the King ? 
 
 Ubal. Yes, for being aflured 
 The Armies were in View of one another; 
 Having proclaimed a public Faft and Prayer 
 iFor the good Succefs, he difpatch'd a Gentleman 
 Of his Privy Chamber to the General, 
 With abfolute Authority from him 
 To try the Fortune of a Day. 
 
 Ric, No doubt then 
 The General will come on, and fight it bravely. 
 Heaven profper him : This military Art
 
 i% THE PICTURE 
 
 I grant to be the noblcft of Profeffions ; 
 And yet (I thank my Stars for't) I was never 
 Inclin'dto learn it, mice this bubble Honour, 3 
 (Which is indeed the Nothing Soldiers fight for, 
 With the Lofs of Limbs or Life) is in my Judgment 
 Too dear a Purchafe. 
 
 JJbal. Give me our Court-warfare ; 
 The Danger is not great in the Encounter 
 Of a fair Miftrefs. 
 
 Ric. Fair and found together 
 Do verv well, Waldo. But fuch are 
 With Difficulty to be found out ; and when they know 
 Their Value, priz'd too high. By thy own Report 
 Thou waft at Twelve a Gamefter, and fince that 
 Studied all Kinds of Females, from the Night-trader 
 I'the Street, with certain Danger to thy Pocket, 
 To the great Lady in her Cabinet, 
 That fpent upon thee more in Cullifes, 
 To flrengthen thy weak Back, than would maintain 
 Twelve Flanders Mares, and as many running Horfes i 
 Befides Apothecaries and Chirurgeons Bills, 
 Paid upon all Occafions, and thofe frequent. 
 
 UbaL You talk, Ricardo, as if yet you were 
 A Novice in thofe Myfleries. 
 
 Ric. By no means ; 
 My Doctor can afiure the contrary, 
 I lofe no Time. I have felt the Pain and Pleafure, 
 As he that is a Gamefter, and plays often, 
 Muft fometimes be a Lofer. 
 
 Ubal. Wherefore then 
 Do you envy me ? 
 
 V3T 3 This Bubble Honour. 
 
 In fpeaking of Honour , Majjinger feems to have had Sbahjheare in 
 his Eye : Thus, in Asyou like it y 
 
 Seeking the Bubble, Reputation, 
 Even in the Cannon's Mouth. 
 
 And in Faljaff'i Catechifui. See the Fifft Part of Henry IV. A3 
 5. Scene 2.
 
 THE PICTURE. t% 
 
 Ric. It grows not from my Want, 
 Nor thy Abundance, but being as I am 
 The likelier Man, and of much more Experience, 
 My good Parts are my Curfes : There's no Beauty 
 But yields ere it be fummon'd ; and as Nature 
 Had fign'd me the Monopolies of Maidenheads, 
 There's none can buy till I have made my Market i 
 Satiety cloys me : As I live, I would part with 
 Half my Eftate, nay, travel o'er the World, 
 To find that only Rkanix in my Search 
 That could hold out againft me. 
 
 UbaL Be not rap't fo : 
 You may fpafe that Labour, as me is a Woman^ 
 What think you of the Queen ? 
 
 Ric. I dare not aim at 
 The Petticoat royal ; that is flill excepted i 
 Yet were fhe not my King's, being the Abftract 
 Of all that's rare, or to be wiftYd in Woman, 
 To write her in my Catalogue, having enjoy'd her, 
 I would venture my Neck to a Halter. But we talk f 
 impoffibilities ; as irie hath a Beauty 
 Would make old Neflor young, fuch Majefty 
 Draws forth a Sword of Terror to defend it* 
 As would fright Paris, though the Queen of Love 
 Vow'd her belt Furtherance to him, 
 
 UbaL Have you obferv'd x 
 
 The Gravity of her Language mix'd with Sweetncfs f . 
 
 Ric. Then, at what Diitance fhe referves herfelf 
 When the King himfelf makes his Approaches to her I 
 
 UbaL As me were flill a Virgin : and his Life 
 But one continued Wooing, 
 
 Ric* She well knows 
 Her Worth, and values it, 
 
 UbaL And fo far the King is 
 Indulgent to her Humours, that he forbears 
 The Duty of a Hufband, but when fhe calls for't. 
 
 Ric. All his Imaginations and Thoughts 
 Are buried in her ; the loud Noife of War 
 Cannot awake him. 
 
 UbaL At this very Inflant,
 
 ft THE PICTURE) 
 
 When both his Life and Crown are at the Stakcy 
 He only fludics her Content, and when 
 She's pleas'd to fhew herfclf, Mufic and Mafques 
 Are with all Care and Cod provided for her. 
 
 Ric. This Night fhe promis'd to appear. 
 
 TJbal. You may believe it by the Diligence of the King,- 
 As if he were her Harbinger. 
 
 Enter Ladiflaus, Eubulus, and Attendants with Perfumes* 
 
 Ladif. Thefe Rooms 
 Are not perfum'd, as we directed. 
 
 Eub. Not, Sir ! 
 I know not what you would have ; I am fure the Smoak 
 Coft treble the Price of the whole Week's Provifion 
 Spent in your Majefty's Kitchens. 
 
 Ladif. How ! I fcom 
 Thy grofs Comparifon. When Honoria, 
 Th' Amazement of the prefent Time, and llnvy 
 Of all fuceeding Ages, does defcend 
 To fanc"lify a Place, and in her Prefence 
 Makes it a Temple to me, can I be 
 Too curious, much lefs Prodigal, to receive her ? 
 But that the Splendour of her Beams of Beauty 
 Hath ftruck thee blind. 
 
 Eub. As Dotage hath done you. 
 
 Ladif. Dotage, O Blafphemy ! is it in me 
 To ferve her to her Merit ? Is Ihe not 
 The Daughter of a King ? 
 
 Eub. And you the Son 
 Of ours I take it ; by what Privilege elfe 
 Do you reign over us ? For my Part, I know not 
 Where the Difparity lies. 
 
 Ladif. Her Birth, old Man, 
 Old in the Kingdom's Service which protects thee, 
 Is the leaft Grace in her : And though her Beauties 
 Might make the Thunderer a Rival for her, 
 They are but fupcrficial Ornaments, 
 And faintly fpeak her. From her heavenly Mind, 
 Were all Antiquity and Fiction loft,
 
 T H E V I C T U R E. *5 
 
 Our modern Poets could not in their Fancy 
 
 But fafhion a Minerva far tranfcending 
 
 TV imagin'd one, whom Homer only dream't of : 
 
 But then add this, fhe's mine, mine Eubulus : 
 
 And though fhe knows one Glance from her fair Eyej 
 
 Mult make all Gazers her Idolaters, 
 
 She is fo fparing of their Influence, 
 
 That to fhun Superftition in others, 
 
 She fhoots her powerful Beams only at me. 
 
 And can I then, whom me defires to hold 
 
 Her kingly Captive above all the World, 
 
 Whpfe Nations and Empires if fhe pleas'd 
 
 She might command as Slaves, but gladly pay 
 
 The humble Tribute of my Love and Service ? 
 
 Nay, if I faid of Adoration to her, 
 
 I did not err. 
 
 Eub. Well, fince you hug your Fetters, 
 In Love's Name wear 'em. You are a King, and that 
 Concludes you wife. Your Will a powerful Reafon, 
 Which we that are foolifh Subjects mult not argue. 
 And what in a mean Man I fhould call Folly, 
 Is in your Majefty remarkable Wifdom. 
 But for me I fubfcribe. 
 
 Ladif. Do, and look up, 
 Upon this Wonder. 
 
 Loud Mufick, Honoria in State under a Canopy, her Yraht 
 born up by Sylvia and Acanthe, 
 
 Ric. Wonder ! It is more, Sir. 
 
 UbaL A Rapture, an Aftonifhment. 
 
 Ric, What think you, Sir ? 
 
 Eub. As the King thinks, that is the fureft Guard 
 We Courtiers ever lie at. Was ever Prince 
 So drown'd in Dotage ? Without Spectacles 
 I can fee a handfome Woman, and fhe is fo : 
 But yet to Admiration look not on her. 
 Heaven, how he fawns ! and as it were his Duty, 
 With what allured Gravity fhe receives it ! 
 Her Hand again ! O fhe at length vouchfafcs
 
 i6 THE PICTUUi 
 
 Her Lip, and as he had fuck'd Nectar from ftrj 
 How he's exalted ! Women in their Natures 
 Affedr. Command, but this Humility 
 In a Hufband and a King, marks her the Way 
 To abfolute Tyranny. So, Juno's plac'd 
 In Jove's Tribunal, and like Mercury 
 (Forgetting his own Greatnefs) he attends 
 ]For her employments* She prepares to fpeakj 
 What Oracles fhall we hear now ? 
 
 Hon, That you pleafe, Sir, 
 With fuch Affurances of Love and Favour, 
 To grace your Handmaid, but in being yours, Sir^ 
 A matchlefs Queen, and one that knows herfelf fo$ 
 Binds me in Retribution to deferve 
 The Grace conferr'd upon me. 
 
 Ladif. You tranfcend ; 
 In all Things excellent ; and it is my Glory, 
 (Your Worth weigh 'd truly) to depofe myferf 
 From abfolute Command, furrendering up 
 My Will and Faculties to your Difpofure : 
 And here I vow, not for a Day or Year, 
 But my whole Life, which I wifh long, to ferve you j 
 That whatfoever I in Juftice may 
 Exad: from thefe my Subjects, you from me 
 May boldly challenge. And when you require it, 
 In Sign of my Subjection, as your Vaflal, 
 Thus I will pay my Homage. 
 
 Hon, O forbear, Sir, 
 Let not my Lips envy my Robe : On them 
 Print your Allegiance often. I defire 
 No other Fealty. 
 
 Ladif. Gracious Sovereign, 
 Boundlefs in Bounty ! 
 
 Eub. Is not here fine fooling ? 
 He's queftionlefs bewitch'd. Would I were gelt, 
 So that would difenchant him. Though I forfeit 
 My Life for it I mull: fpeak. By your good Leave, Sir, 
 I have no Suit to you, nor can you grant one, 
 Having no Power. You are like me, a Subject/ 
 Her more than ferene Majefty being prefent.
 
 
 THE PICTURE; 17 
 
 And I muft tell you, 'tis ill Manners in you, 
 Having depos'd yourfelf, to keep your Hat on, 
 And not ftand bare as we do, being no King* 
 Bat a fellow Subject with us. Gentlemen Ufhers, 
 It does belong to your Place ; fee it reform'd ; 
 He has given away his Crown, and cannot challenge 
 The Privilege of his Bonnet. 
 
 Ladif. Do not tempt me. 
 
 Eub. Tempt you, in what? In following your Ex- 
 ample ? 
 If you are angry, queftion me hereafter, 
 As Ladijiaus fhould do Eubulus, 
 On equal Terms. You were of late my Sovereign, 
 But weary of it, I now bend my Knee 
 To her Divinity, and defire a Boon 
 From her more than Magnificence* 
 
 Hon. Take it freely. 
 Nay, be not mov'd, for our Mirth Sake let us hear him* 
 
 Eub. 'Tis but to aik a Queition : have you ne'er read 
 The Story of Semiramis and Ninus f 
 
 Hon. Not as I remember. 
 
 Eub. I will then inftrud; you* 
 And 'tis to the Purpofe. This Ninus was a King, 
 And fuch an impotent loving King, as this was, 
 But now he's none. This Ninus (pray you obferve me) 
 Doted on this Semiramis, a Smith's Wife, 
 (I muft confefs, there the Comparifon holds not, 
 You are a King's Daughter, yet, under your Correction, 
 Like her, a Woman) this AJjyrian Monarch, 
 (Of whom this is a Pattern) to exprefs 
 His Love and Service, feated her, as you are, 
 In his regal Throne, and bound by Oath his Nobles, 
 Forgetting all Allegiance to himfelf, 
 One Day to be her Subjects, and to put 
 In Execution whatever me . 
 
 Pleas'd to impofe upon 'em. Pray you command him 
 To minifter the like to us, and then 
 You mall hear what follow'd. 
 
 Ladif. Well, Sir, to vour Story. 
 
 Vol. I. B
 
 18 THE PICTURE 
 
 Eub. You have no Warrant, ftand by ; let me kno\# 
 Your Pleafure, Goddefs. 
 
 Hon. Let this Nod allure yon. 
 
 Eub. Goddefs-like, indeed ; as I live a pretty Idol \ 
 She knowing her Power, wifely made Ufe of it ; 
 And fearing his Inconftancy, and Repentance 
 Of what he had granted (as in Realbn, Madam, 
 You may do his) that he might never have 
 Power to recall his Grant, or queftion her 
 For her ihort Government, inftantly gave Order 
 To have his Head (truck off. 
 
 Ladif. Is't poffible ? 
 
 Eub. The Story fays fo, and commends her Wifdorrt 
 For making Ufe of her Authority : 
 And it is worth your Imitation, Madam ; 
 He loves Subjection, and you are no Queen, 
 Unlefs you make him feel the Weight of it. 
 You are more than all* the World to him, and that,*' 
 He may be true- to you, and notfeek Change, 
 When his Delights are fated, 'mew him up 
 In fome clofc Prifon, if you let him live, 
 (Which is no Policy) and there diet him 
 As you think fit to feed your Appetite r 
 Since there ends his Ambition. 
 
 Ubal. Devilifh Counfel. 
 
 Ric. The King's amaz'd. 
 
 Ubal. The Queen appears too, full 
 Of deep Imaginations ; Eubulus 
 Hath put both to it. 
 
 G^r 6 Tou are more than all the World to him, and that 
 He may be Foe to you. 
 
 This is the reading of all the old Copies, but moil certainly falfe. 
 It ought to be 
 
 Tou are more than all the World to him, and that 
 He may be fo to yon. 
 
 If the Amendments propofed were admitted, the PaflTage would 
 nor be Senle. Eubulus propofes to mew him up, not only in onicr 
 to fecure Iter Affeftions to him, but his to her. True is evidently the 
 right Kead.ns/. M. M.
 
 THE PICTURE. t* 
 
 ioV. Now me feems refolv'd : v 
 i long to know the Iffue. [Honoria defcendsi 
 
 Hon. Give me Leave* 
 Dear Sir, to reprehend you for appearing 
 Perplex'd with what this old Man, out of Envy 
 Of your unequall'd Graces fhower'd upon me* 
 Hath in his fabulous Story faucily 
 Apply'd to me; Sir* that you only nourifh 
 One Doubt, Honoria dares abufe the Power 
 With which fhe is inverted by your Favour* 
 Or that Ihe ever can make Ufe of it 
 To the Injury of you the great BeftOwer, 
 Takes from your Judgment* It was your Delight 
 To feek me with more Obfequioufnefs* 
 Than I defired ; and flood it with my Duty 
 Not to receive what you were pleas'd to offer ? 
 I do but act the Part you put upon me, 
 And though you make me perfonate a Queen, 
 And you my Subject, when the Play, your Pleafure^ 
 Is at a Period. I am what I was ' 
 Before I enter'd, frill your humble Wife, 
 And you my royal Sovereign. 
 
 Ric. Admirable ! 
 
 Hon. I have heard of Captains taken more with Danger! 
 Than the Rewards, and if in your Approaches 
 To thofe Delights which are your own, and freely 
 To heighten your Defire, you make the PafTage 
 Narrow and difficult, fhall I prefcribe you ? 
 Or blame your Fondnefs ? Or can that fwell me 
 Beyond my juft Proportion ? 
 
 UbaL Above Wonder. 
 
 Ladif. Heaven make me thankful for fuch Goodnefs* 
 
 Hon. Now, Sir, 
 The State I took to fatisfy your Pleafure, 
 I change to this Humility ; and the Oath 
 You made to me of Homage, I thus cancel* 
 And feat you in your own. 
 
 Ladif. I am tranfported 
 Beyond myfelf. 
 
 Hon. And now to your wife Lordfhip, 
 B2
 
 o THE PICTURL 
 
 Am I prov'd a Semiramis t Or hath 
 My Ninus, as malicioufly you made him, 
 Caufe to repent th' Excefs of Favour to me, 
 Which you call Dotage ? 
 
 Ladif. Anfwer, Wretch. 
 
 Eub. I dare,. Sir*. 
 And fay, however the Event may plead 
 In your Defence, you had a guilty Caufe ;. 
 Nor was it Wifdom in you (I repeat it) 
 To teach a Lady, humble in herfelf, 
 With the ridiculous Dotage of a Lover, 
 To be ambitious. 
 
 Hon. Eubulus, I am fo, . 
 'Tis rooted in me, you miitake my Temper. 
 I do profefs myfelf to be the molt 
 Ambitious of my Sex, but not to hold 
 Command over my Lord, fuch a proud Torrent! 
 Would fink me in my Wifhes ; not that I 
 Am ignorant how much I can deferve, 
 And may with Juftice challenge. 
 
 Eub. This I look'd for ; 
 After this feeming humble, Ebb, I knew 
 A gufhing Tide would follow. 
 
 Hon. By my Birth, 
 And liberal Gifts of Nature, as of Fortune^ 
 From you, as Things beneath me, I expect 
 What's due to Majefly, in which I am 
 A Sharer with your Sovereign. 
 
 Eub. Good again ! 
 
 Hon. And as* I am moft eminent in Place,. 
 In all my Actions I would appear fo. 
 
 Ladif. You need not fear a Rival. 
 
 Hon. I hope not ; 
 And till 1 find one, I difdain to know 
 What Envy is* 
 
 Ladif. You are above it, Madam. 
 
 Hon. For Beauty without Art, Difcourfe, and free r 
 
 7 For Beauty without Art, Difcourfe azdfree, &c. 
 Thefe laft Words arc improperly arranged, we mould read 
 
 For Beauty vjitbokt A,t y and Difcourfe fat from AffeHation. M. M.
 
 THE PICTURE. 21 
 
 From Affectation, with what Graces clfe 
 Can in the Wife and Daughter of a King 
 Be wifh'd, I dare prefer myfelf. 
 
 Eub. As I 
 Blulh for you, Lady, Trumpet your own Praifes ! * 
 This fpoken by the People had been heard 
 With Honour to you ; does the Court afford 
 No Oil-tongu'd Parafite, that you are forc'd 
 To be your own grofs Flatterer ? 
 
 Ladif. Be dumb, 
 Thou Spirit of Contradiction. 
 
 Hon. The Wolf 
 But barks againfl the Moon, and I contemn it. 
 The Mafque you promis'd. 
 
 A Horn. Enter a ?oJl. 
 
 Ladif. Let 'em enter. How I 
 
 Eub. Here's one, I fear, unlook'd for. 
 
 Ladif. From the Camp ? 
 
 Tojl. The General, victorious in your Fortune, 
 Kifles your Hand in this, Sir, 
 
 Ladif. That great Power, 
 Who at his Pleafure does difpofe of Battles, 
 Be ever prais'd for't. Read, Sweet, and partake it : 
 The Turk is vanquifh'd, and with little Lofs 
 Upon our Part, in which our Joy is doubl'd. 
 
 Eub. But let it not exalt you ; bear it, Sir, 
 With Moderation, and pay what you owe for't, 
 
 Ladif. I underftand thee, Eubulus. I'll not now 
 Inquire Particulars. Our Delights defeTr'd, 
 With Rev'rence to the Temples : there we'll tender 
 
 fcf- 8 As I 
 
 Blujk ftryou, Lady, trumpet your onion Praifes- 
 Mr. Dodjley, in his Collection of Old Plays, reads this Paflage thus : 
 
 As I 
 
 Blujhforyou, Lady, trumpet notyour own Praife. 
 I think that the old Reading fhould ftand. He means, that (he her* 
 felf having loft all Senfe of Shame, he undertakes to blufh for her j 
 gnd therefore ironically bids her proceed. 
 
 ' 3
 
 % ^ THE PICTURE, 
 
 Our Soul's Devotions to his dread Might, 
 
 Who edg'd our Swords, and taught us how to fight. 
 
 [Exeunt omnes^ 
 
 End of the Firjl M. 
 
 ACT It S C E N E I, 
 
 Enter Hilario, Corifca. 
 
 Hil. i \T O U like my Speech ? 
 
 J Corif. Yes, if you give it Action 
 In the Delivery. 
 
 Hil. If! 1 pity you. 
 
 I have play'd the Fool before ; this is not the firft Time, 
 Nor fhall be, I hope, the laft. 
 
 Corif. Nay,- 1 think fo too. 
 
 Hil. And if I put her not put of her Dumps with 
 Laughter, 
 I'll make her howl for Anger. 
 
 Corif Not too much 
 Of that, good Fellow Hilario. Our fad Lady 
 Hath drank too often of that bitter Cup, 
 A pleafant one muft reflore her. With what Patience 
 Would lhe endure to hear of the Death of my Lord ; - 
 That merely out of doubt he may mifcarry, 
 Afflicts herfelf thus ? 
 
 Hil. Urn; 'tis a Queftion 
 A Widow only ca# refolve. There be fome 
 That in their Hufband's Sicknefs have wept 
 Their Pottle of Tears a Day ; but being once certain 
 At Midnight he was dead, have in the Morning 
 Dry'd up their Handkerchiefs, and thought no more on't, 
 
 Corif. Tulh, fhe is none of that Race ; if her Sorrow 
 Be not true and perfect, I againft my Sex 
 Will take my Oath, Women ne'er wept in earneft, 
 She has made herfelf a Prifoner to her Chamber, 
 Dark as a Dungeon, in which no Beam
 
 THE PICTURE. 23 
 
 Of Comfort enters. She admits no Vifits ; 
 Eats little, and her nightly Mufick is 
 Of Sighs and Groans, tun'd to fnch Harmony 
 Of feeling Grief, that I, againft my Nature, 
 Am made one of the Concert. This Hour only 
 iShe takes the Air, a Cuftom every Day 
 She folemnly obferves, with greedy Hopes, 
 From fome that pafs by, to receive Aflurancc 
 Of the Succels and Safety of her Lord. 
 Now, if that your Device will take 
 
 ML Ne'er fear it : 
 I am provided cap-a-pee, and have 
 My Properties in Readinefs. 
 
 Sophia zvtthin. Bring my Veil, there. 
 
 Corif. Be gone, I hear her coming. 
 
 HiL If I do not 
 Appear, and, what's more, appear perfect, hifs me. 
 
 [Exit Hilario. 
 
 Enter Sophia, 
 
 Soph, I was flatter'd once, I was a Star, but now 
 Turn'd a prodigious Meteor ; and, like one, 
 Hang in the Air between my Hopes and Fears, 
 And every Hour (the little Stuff burnt out 
 That yields a waning Light to dying Comfort) 
 I do expedt my Fall, and certain Ruin. * 
 
 In wretched Things more wretched is Delay; 9 
 And Hope, a Parafite to me, being unmalk'd, 
 Appears more horrid than Defpair, and my 
 Piftradtion worfe than Madnefs. E'en my Prayers, 
 When with molt Zeal fent upward, are pull'd down 
 With ftrong imaginary Doubts and Fears, 
 
 C^r 9 In wretched Things more wretched is Delay. 
 
 This, I think mould be read, 
 
 To wretched Things, &e. 
 
 This Alteration is unneceflary, by wretched Things MaJHngcr means 
 *ot unhappy People but unfortunate Event$. M. M. 
 
 B4
 
 4 THE PICTURE, 
 
 And in their fudden Precipice o'erwhelm me. 
 Dreams and fantaftick Vifions walk the Round 
 About my widow'd Bed, and every Slumber 
 Broken with loud Alarms : Can thefe be then 
 But fad Prefages, Girl ? 
 
 Corif You make 'emfo, 
 And antedate a Lofs lhall ne'er fall on you. 
 Such pure Affection, fuch mutual Love, 
 A Bed, and undenTd on either Part, 
 A Houfe without Contention, in two Bodies 
 One Will and Soul, like to the Rod of Concord 
 Killing each other, cannot be fhort-liv'd, 
 Or end in Barrennefs. If all thefe, dear Madam, 
 (Sweet in your Sadnefs) mould produce no Fruit, 
 Or leave the Age no Models of yourfelves, 
 To witnefs to Pofterity what you were, 
 Succeeding Times, frighted with the Example, 
 But hearing of your Story, would inftrut 
 Their faireft Iflue to meet fenfually, 
 Like other Creatures, and forbear to raife 
 True Love, or Hymen, Altars. 
 
 Soph* O Cor if c a ! 
 I know thy Reafons are like to thy Wifhes, 
 And they are built upon a weak Foundation, 
 To raife me Comfort. Ten long Days are pafl, 
 Ten long Days, my Corif a, fince my Lord 
 Eml^rk'd himfelf upon a Sea of Danger, 
 In his dear Care of me. And if his Life 
 Had not been fliipwreck'd on the Rock of War, 
 His Tendernefs of me (knowing how much 
 I languifli for his Abfence) had provided 
 Some trufty Friend from whom I might receive 
 Afllirance of his Safety. 
 
 Corif. Ill News, Madam, 
 Arc Swallow-wing'd,but what's good walks on Crutches; 
 With Patience expect it ; and ere long, 
 No doubt, you lhall hear from him.
 
 THE PICTURE, 25 
 
 A Sow-gelded s Horn blown. A Pofl. 10 
 
 Soph, Ha ! What's that ? 
 
 Corif. The Fool has got a Sow-gelder's Horn, [Afide. 
 A Port, as I take it, Madam. 
 
 Soph. It makes this Way ftill, 
 Nearer and nearer. 
 
 Corif. From the Camp, I hope. 
 
 Enter Hilario, with long white Hair and Beard, in an 
 antick Armour, one zvith a Horn before him. 
 
 Soph. The Mefl'enger appears, and in ftrange Armour. 
 Heaven, if it be thy Will ! 
 
 Hil. It is no Boot 
 To flrive ; our Horfes tir'd, let's walk on Foot, 
 And that the Caflle which is very near us, 
 To give us Entertainment, may ibon hear us, 
 Blow luftily, my Lad, and drawing nigh, 
 Afk for a Lady which is clep'd Sophy. ll 
 
 jo A Sow -getter's Horn blown. A Pofl. 
 
 I have here followed the old Copies, not chufing to make ny ab* 
 folute Alteration, though the Pafl'age is evidently corrupt : { take it 
 Jhould be as follows ; 
 
 A Sow-geldcr* s-Horn blown. 
 Sopb. Ha ! What's that > .^ 
 
 Corif. The Fool has got a Sow-gelder*s Horn. 4 \faficle. 
 
 A Poft, as "I take it, Madam. 
 Sopb. It makes this Way ftill, 
 
 Nearer and nearer. 
 Corif. From the Camp, I hope. 
 If Corifca had told her Miftrefs, that the Fool had got a Sow 
 getter's Horn, the would not fo readily have believed that he came 
 from the Camp ; nor does there feem to be any Neceffity for a Pojl 
 to be mentioned at all, when the Horn is blown. I imagine in the 
 written Copy there was not Room for the Tranfcriber to write it in 
 the fame Line, and therefore he placed it over the Word Horn, which 
 pccafioned this Miftake in the Printing. 
 
 II This emandation is evidently right, as all the reft of this ridicu- 
 lous Speech is in Rhyme, wfe fhould without doubt read Sophy, in- 
 stead of Sophia.
 
 *$ THE PICTURE. 
 
 Corif. He names you, Madam. 
 
 Hil. For to her I bring, 
 Thus clad in Arms, News of a pretty Thing, 
 By Name Afathias. 
 
 Soph. From my Lord ? O Sir ! 
 I am Sophia, that Mathias* Wife. 
 So may Mars favour you in all your Battles, 
 As you with Speed unload me of the Burthea 
 I labour under, till I am confirm'd 
 Both where and how you left him. 
 
 Hil. If thou art, 
 As I believe, the Pigfney of his Heart, 
 Know he's in Health, and what's more, full of Glee ; 
 And fo much I was will'd to fay to thee. 
 
 Soph. Have you no Letters from him ? 
 
 Hil. No, mere Words. 
 In the Camp we ufe no Pens, but write with Swords ; 
 Yet as I am enjoin'd, by Word of Mouth 
 I will proclaim his Deeds from North to South ; 
 But tremble riot while I relate the Wonder, 
 Though my Eyes like Lightning mine, and my Voice 
 thunder. 
 
 Soph. This is fome counterfeit Bragart. 
 
 Corif. Hear him, Madam. 
 
 Hil. The Rear march'd firft, which follow'd by theVan, 
 And wing'd with the Battalion, no Man 
 Durfl ftay to fhift a Shirt, or loufe himfelf ; 
 Yet ere the Armies join'd, that hopeful Elf, 
 Thy dear, thy dainty Duckling, bold Mathias t 
 Advanc'd, and ftar'd like Hercules or Golias. 
 A hundred thoufand Turks (it is no Vaunt) 
 Affail'd him ; every one a Termagant : 
 But what did he then ? with his keen-edge Spear 
 He cut, and carbonaded 'em : Here and there 
 Lay Legs and Arms ; and, as 'tis faid truly 
 Of Bevis, fome he quarter'd all in three. 
 
 Soph. This is ridiculous. 
 
 Hil. I muft take Breath : 
 Then, like a Nightingale, I'll fing his Death. 
 
 Soph. His Death !
 
 THE PICTURE, 27 
 
 HiL I .am out. 
 
 Corif. Recover, Dunder-head, 
 
 HiL How he efcap'd, I ihould have fung, not dy'd ; 
 For, though a Knight, when I faid fo, I ly'd ! 
 Weary he was, and fcarce could (land upright, 
 And looking round for fome courageous Knight 
 To refcue him, as one perplex'd in Woe, 
 He call'd to me, Help | help, Hilario ! 
 My valiant Servant, help. 
 
 Corif. He has fpoil'd all. 
 
 Soph. Are you the Man of Arms ? Then I'll make 
 bold 
 To take off your martial Beard ; you had Fool's Hair 
 Enough without it. Slave ! how durft thou make 
 Thy Sport of what concerns me more than Life, 
 In fuch an antick Faihion ? Am I grown 
 Contemptible to thofe I feed ? You, Minion, 
 Had a Hand in it too, as it appears, 
 Your Petticoat ferves for Bafes to this Warriour. 
 
 Corif. We did it for. your Mirth. 
 
 Hit. For myfelf, I hope, 
 I have fpoke like a Soldier. 
 
 Soph. Hence, you Rafcal. 
 I never but with Reverence name my Lord, 
 And can I hear it by thy Tongue prophan'd, 
 And not correct thy Folly ? But you are 
 Transform'd, and turn'd Knight-errant ; take your Courfe 
 And wander where you pleafe ; for here I vow 
 By my Lord's Life (an Oath I will not break) 
 Till his Return, or Certainty of his Safety, 
 My Doors are fhut againft thee. [Exit Sophia. 
 
 Corif. You have made 
 A fine Piece of Work on't : How do you like the Qua- 
 You had a foolifh Itch to be an Aftor, [lity ? 
 
 And may now ftroll where you pleafe. 
 
 HiL Will you buy my Share ? 
 
 Corif. No, certainly, I fear I have already 
 Too much of mirie own : I'll only, as a Damfel, 
 
 12 The Quality means here, the Calling, or JVofeflion. M. M.
 
 *8 THE PICTURE. 
 
 (As the Book fays) thus far help to difarm you ; 
 
 And fo, dear Don Quixote, taking my Leave, 
 
 I leave you to your Fortune. [Exit Corifca. 
 
 Hil. Have I fweat 
 My Brains out for this quaint and rare Invention, 
 And am I thus rewarded ? I could turn 
 Tragedian, and roar now, but that I fear 
 T would get me too great a Stomach, having no Meat: 
 To pacify Colon, * what will become of me ? 
 I cannot beg in Armour, and fleal I dare not : 
 My End muft be to ftand in a Corn Field, 
 And fright away the Crows, for Bread and Cheefe, 
 Or find fome hollow Tree in the Highway, 
 And there, until my Lord return, fell Switches. 
 No more Hilario, but Dolorio now : 
 I'll weep my Eyes out, and be blind of Purpofe 
 To move Compaffion ; and fo I vanifli. [Exit Hilario* 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Eubulus, Ubaldo, Ricardo, and others; 
 
 Eub. Are the Gentlemen fent before^ as it was order'd 
 By the King's Direction, to entertain 
 The General ? 
 
 Ric. Long fince; they by this have met him, 
 And given him the Bienvcnue, 
 
 Eub. I hope I need not 
 Inftrucl: you in your Parts, 
 
 \Jbal. How! us, my Lord? 
 fear not ; we know our Diftances ad Degrees, 
 To the very Inch, where we are to falute him, 
 
 Ric, The State were miferable, if the Court had none 
 Of her own Breed, familiar with all Garbs. 
 Gracious in England, Italy, Spain or France, 
 With Form and Punctuality to receive 
 Stranger EmbafTadors. For the General, 
 He's a mere Native, and it matters not 
 Which Way we do accoft him. 
 
 ij Colon is the great Gut. M. 3/,
 
 THE PICTURE. a 9 
 
 Vbal Tis great Pity 
 That fuch as fit at the Helm provide no better 
 For the training up of the Gentry. In my Judgment 
 An Academy erected, with large Penfions 
 To fuch as in a Table could fet down 
 The Congees, Cringes, Poftures, Methods, PJirafes, 
 Proper to every Nation 
 
 Ric. O, it were 
 An admirable Piece of Work* 
 
 Ubal. And yet rich Fools 
 Throw away their Charity on Hofpitalsy 
 For Beggars and lame Soldiers, and ne'er Itudy 
 The due Regard to Compliment and Courtlhip, 
 Matters of more Import, and are indeed 
 The Glories of a Monarchy. 
 
 Eub. Thefe, no doubt, 
 Are State Points, Gallants, I confefs ; but fure, 
 Our Courts need no Aids this Way, fince it is 
 A School of nothing elfe. There are fome of you 
 Whom I forbear to name, whofe coining Heads 
 Are the Mint of all new Fafhions, that have done 
 More Hurt to the Kingdom by fuperfluous Bravery^ 
 Which the foolifti Gentry imitate, than a War, 
 Or a long Famine ;. all the Treafure, by 
 This foul Excefs, is got into the Merchant's, 
 Embroiderer's, Silkman's, Jeweller's, Taylor's Hands, 
 And the third Part of the Land too, the Nobility 
 Engroffing Titles only. 
 
 Ric. My Lord, you are bitter. 
 
 Enter a Servant, [A ^trumpet. 
 
 Serv. The General is alighted, and now enter'd* 
 Ric. Were he ten Generals, I am prepar'd, 
 And know what I will do. 
 
 Eub. Pray you what, Ricardo f 
 Ric. I'll fight at Compliment with him* 
 UbaL I'll charge home too. 
 
 Rub. And that's a defperate Service, if you come off 
 well.
 
 3 o the Picture; 
 
 Enter Ferdinand, Mathias, Baptifta, two Captains* 
 
 Ferd. Captain, command the Officers to keep 
 The Soldier as he march'd in Rank and File, 
 Till they hear farther from me. 
 
 Eub. Here's one fpeaks 
 In another Key : This is no canting Language 
 Taught in your Academy. 
 
 Ferd. Nay, I will prefent you 
 To the King myfelf. 
 
 Math. A Grace beyond my Merit. 
 
 Ferd* You undervalue what I cannot fefi 
 Too high a Price on. 
 
 Eub. With a Friend's true Heart 
 I gratulate your Return. 
 
 Ferd. Next to the Favour 
 Of the great King, I am happy in your Friendfhip'.? 
 
 Ubal. By Courtfhip; coarfe on both Sides* 
 
 Ferd. Pray you receive 
 This Stranger to your Knowledge, or* my Credit, 
 At all Parts he defervesit. 
 
 Eub. Your Report 
 Is a ftrong AfTurance to me. Sir, moft welcome. 
 
 Math: This faid by you, the Reverence of your Agtf 
 Commands me to believe it. 
 
 Ric. This was pretty. 
 But fecond me now. I cannot floop too low 
 To do your Excellence that due Obfervance 
 Your Fortune claims. 
 
 Eub. He ne'er thinks on his Virtue; 
 
 Ric, For, being, as you are, the Soul of Soldiers, 
 And Bulwark of Bellona. 
 
 Ubal. The Protection 
 Both of the Court and King. . 
 
 Ric. And the fole Minion 
 Of mighty Mars. 
 
 Ubal. One that with Juftice may 
 Increafe the Number of the Worthies. 
 
 Eub. Hoy day !
 
 T H E P I C T U R E. %l 
 
 Ric. It being impomble in my Arms to circle 
 Such giant Worth. 
 
 Ubal. At Diftance we prefume 
 To kifs your honour'd Gauntlet. 
 
 Eub. What Reply now 
 Can he make to this Foppery ? 
 
 Ferd. You have faid, 
 Gallants, fo much, and hitherto done fo little* 
 That, till I learn to fpeak, and you to do, 
 I mult take Time to thank you. 
 
 Eub. As I live, 
 Anfwer'd as I could wifli. How the Fops gape now ! 
 Ric. This was harfh, and fcurvy. 
 Ubal. We will be reveng'd 
 When he comes to court the Ladies, and laugh at him# 
 Eub. Nay, do your Offices, Gentlemen, and conduct 
 The General to the Prefence* 
 Ric. Keep your Order. 
 UbaL Make Way fqr the General. 
 
 [Exeunt all but EubuluS* 
 Eub. What wife Man, 
 That with judicious Eyes looks on a Soldier* 
 But muft confefs that Fortune's Swing is more 
 O'er that Profeffion, than all Kinds elfe 
 Of Life purfu'd by Man ? They, in a State, 
 Are but as Chirurgeons to wounded Men, 
 E'en defp'rate in their Hopes ; while Pain and Ariguilh 
 Make them blafpheme, and call in vain for Death ; 
 Their Wives and Children kifs the Chirurgcon's Knees, 
 Promife him Mountains, if his faving Hand 
 Reftore the tortur'd Wretch to former Strength. 
 But when grim Death, by ALfculapius* Art, 
 Is frighted from the Houfe, and Health appears 
 In fanguine Colours on the rick Man Face, 
 All is forgot ; and afking his Reward, 
 He's paid with Curfes, often receives Wounds 
 From him whofe Wounds he cur'd ; fo Soldiers, 
 Though of more Worth and Ufe, meet the fame Fate, 
 As it is too apparent. I have obferv'd 
 When horrid Mars, the Touch of whofe rough Hn.^d
 
 5 i THfi PICTURE. 
 
 With Palfies fhakes a Kingdom, hath put orf 
 His dreadful Helmet, and with Terror fills 
 The Place where he, like an unwelcome Guefty 
 Refolves to revel ; how the Lords of her, like 
 The Tradcfman, Merchant, and litigious Pleader, 
 (And fuch like Scarabs bred i' th' Dung of Peace) 
 In Hope of their Protection, humbly offer 
 Their Daughters to their Beds, Heirs to their Service, 
 And wafti with Tears their Sweat, their Duft, their Scars i 
 But when thofe Clouds of War that menae'd 
 A bloody Deluge to th' affrighted State, 
 Are by their Breath difpers'd, and overblown^ 
 And Famine, Blood, and Death, Beilonds Pages, 
 Whipp'd from the quiet Continent to Thrace ; ** 
 Soldiers, that like the foolifti Hedge Sparrow 
 To their own Ruin hatch this Cuckow Peace, 
 Are ftraight thought burdenfome, fince want of Means, 
 Growing for want of Adtion, breeds Contempt, 
 And that, the worft of Ills, falls to their Lot, 
 ' Their Service with the Danger foon forgot. 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 Serv. The Queen, my Lord, hath made Choice of 
 this Room, 
 To fee the Mafque. 
 
 Eub. I'll be a Looker on, 
 My dancing Days are paft. 
 
 Loud Mufick as they pafs, a Song in the Praife ofPFar 4 , 
 Ubaldo, Ricardo, Ladiflaus, Ferdinand, and Ho- 
 noria,Mathias, Sylva, Acanthe, Baptilta, and others. 
 
 Lahf. This Courtefy 
 To a Stranger, my Honoria, keeps fair Rank 
 
 03r M Whipp'd from the quiet Continent to Thrace. 
 
 Majpnger is here miftaken, for T/jrace is upon the Continent. 
 
 Mafinger probably krew as well as the Editor that Part of Thrace 
 was on the Coatinent ; but the Thracian Archipelago, which wa 
 dedicated to Man, is compofed of Iflands. M. M.
 
 THE PICTURE. 33 
 
 With all your Rarities. After your Travel 
 Look on our Court Delights ; but firft from your 
 Relation, with erected Ears I'll hear 
 The Mulick of your War, which muft be fweet, 
 Ending in Victory. 
 
 Ferd. Not to troub4e 
 Your Majefties with Defcription of a Battle, 
 Too full of Horror for the Place, and to 
 Avoid Particulars, which ftiould I deliver, 
 I muft trench longer on your Patience than 
 My Manners will give Way to ; in a Word, Sir, 
 It was well fought on both Sides, and almofl 
 With equal Fortune, it continuing doubtful 
 Upon whofe Tents plum'd Victory would take 
 Her glorious Stand : Impatient of Delay, 
 With the Flower of our prime Gentlemen, I charg'd 
 Their main Battalia, and with their AffiitaHcc 
 Broke in ; but when I was almofl aflur'd 
 That they were routed, by a Stratagem 
 Of the fubtil Turk, who opening his grofs Body, 
 And rallying up his Troops on either Side, 
 I found myfelf fo far engag'd, (for I 
 Muft not conceal my Errors) that I knew not 
 Which Way with Honour to come off. 
 
 Eub. I like 
 A General that tells his Faults, and is not 
 Ambitious to engrofs unto himfelf 
 All Honour, as fome have, in which, with Juflice, 
 They could not claim a Share. 
 
 Ferd* Being thus hemm'd in, 
 Their Scymitars rag'd among us, and my Horfe 
 Kill'd under me, I every Minute loo k'd for 
 An honourable End, and that was all 
 My Hope could fafhion to me ; circl'd thus 
 Wkfc Death and Horror, as one fent from Heaven, 
 This Man of Men, with ibme choice Horle that follow'd 
 His brave Example, did purfue the Track 
 His Sword cut for 'em, and, but that I fee him 
 Already blufh to hear what, he being prefent, 
 
 Vol. I. C
 
 3 4 THE PICTURE, 
 
 I know would wifh unfpoken, I mould fay, Sir, 
 By what he did, we boldly may believe 
 All that is writ of Hetlor. 
 
 Math. General, 
 Pray, fpare thefe (Irange Hyperboles. 
 
 Eub. Do not bluih 
 To hear a Truth ; here are a Pair of Monfieurs, 
 Had they been in your Place, would have run away, 
 And ne'er chang'd Countenance. 
 
 Ubal. We have your good Word ftill. 
 
 Eub. And mall while you deferve it. 
 
 Lad'if. Silence : on. 
 
 Ferd. He, as I faid, like dreadful Lightning thrown 
 From Jupiter % Shield, difpers'd the armed Gire 
 With which I was environed ; Horfe and Man 
 Shrunk under his ftrong Arm : More, with his Looks 
 Frighted, the Valiant lied, with which encourag'd, 
 My Soldiers (like young Eaglets preying under s 
 The Wings of their fierce Dam) as if from him 
 They took both Spirit and Fire, bravely came on. 
 By him I was remounted, and infpir'd 
 With treble Courage ; and fuch as fled before, 
 Boldly made head again ; and, to confirm 'em, 
 Itfuddenly was apparent, that the Fortune 
 Of the Day was ours ; each Soldier and Commander 
 Perform'd his Part ; but this was the great Wheel 
 By which the lefler mov'd, and all Rewards 
 And Signs of Honour ; as the Civic Garland, 
 The mural Wreath, the Enemy's prime Horfe, 
 With the General's Sword, and Armour, (the old Ho- 
 nours 
 With which the Romans crown'd their feveral Leaders) 
 To him alone are proper. 
 
 Ladif. And they fhall 
 Defervedlv fall on him. Sit ; 'tis our Pleafure. 
 
 Ferd. Which I mult ferve, not argue. 
 
 Hon. You are a Stranger, 
 But, in your Service for the Kins, a Native. 
 
 3- l 5 In the UnxaiuralComhat, MaJHnger has this fame Smile again. 
 
 Act 1. Scene 1.
 
 THE PICTURE, 3j 
 
 And, tho* a free Queen, I am bound in Duty 
 To cherim Virtue whereibe'er I tind it : 
 This place is yours. 
 
 Matk, It were Prefumption in me 
 To fit fo near you. 
 
 Hon. Not having Our Warrant* 
 
 Ladif. Let the Mafkers enter : By the Preparation, 
 'Tis a French Brawl, an apifh Imitation 
 Of what you really perform in Battle ; 
 And Pallas bound up in a little Volume, 
 Apollo, with his Lute attending on her, 
 Serve for the Induction. \j$ on g an & Dance* 
 
 Enter the two Boys, one With his Lute, the other like Pallas* 
 A Song in the Praife of Soldiers, efpecially being victorious i 
 the Song ended, the King goes on* 
 
 16 Song by Pallas* 
 
 Though we contemplate to exprefs 
 
 The Glory of your Happinefs, 
 That, by your powerful Arm, have been 
 
 So true a Viclor, that no Sin 
 Could ever taint you with a Blame 
 
 To leffen your deferved Fame* 
 
 Or> though we contend to Jet 
 
 Tour JVorth in the full Height, or get 
 
 Celejlial Singers crown 1 'd with Bays, 
 With Flour ijhes to drejs your Praife : 
 
 Tou know your Coxqueft; but your Story 
 Lives in your triumphant Glory, 
 
 Ladif Our Thanks to all. 
 To the Banquet that's prepar'd to entertain 'em : 
 What would my belt Honor ia ? 
 
 >6 I don't think Maffmger excels in writing Songs ; there are none 
 to be found in rheie Plays rha: have any Decree of' Merit, and :evy 
 that are even intelligible. 37. M. 
 
 . c 2.
 
 3 6 THE PICTURE. 
 
 Hon. May it pleafe 
 Mv King, that I, who, by his Suffrage, ever 
 1 1 avc had Powci to command, may now entreat 
 An Honour from him. 
 
 Lndif. Why mould you defire 
 What is your own ? Whate'er it be, you are 
 TheMiftrefsof it. 
 
 Hon, I am happy in 
 Your Grant : My Suit, Sir, is, that your Commanders* 
 Efpecially this Stranger, may, as I 
 In my Discretion mall think good, receive 
 What's due to their Deferts. 
 
 Ladif. What you determine 
 Shall know no Alteration. 
 
 Eub. The Soldier 
 Is like to have good Ufage, when he depends 
 Upon her Pleafure : Are all the Men fo bad, 
 That, to give Satisfaction, we muft have 
 A Woman Treafurer. Heaven help all. 
 
 Hon. With you, Sir, 
 I will begin, and, as in my Efteem 
 You are mo'ft eminent, expect to have 
 What's fit for me to give, and you to take ; 
 The Favour in the quick Difpatch being double. 
 Go fetch my Cafket, and with Speed. [Exit Acanthe. 
 
 Rub. The Kingdom 
 Is very bare of Money, when Rewards 
 Iliue from the Queen's Jewel-houfe. Give him Gold 
 And Store, no Queftion the Gentleman wants it. 
 Good Madam, what fhall he do with a Hoop Ring, 
 And a Spark of Diamond in it ? Tho' you took it 
 
 Enter Acanthe. 
 
 (For the greater Honour) from your Majefty's Finger^ 
 'Twill not increafe the Value. He muft purchafe 
 Rich Suits, the gay Caparilbn of Courtfhip, 
 Revel, and Feaft, which, the War ended, is 
 A Soldier's Glory ; and 'tis fit that Way 
 Your bounty mould provide for him.
 
 THE PICTURE. 37 
 
 Hon. You are rude, 
 And by your narrow Thoughts proportion mine. 
 What I will do now, mail be worth the Envy 
 Of Cleopatra. Open it, fee here [Honoria defends* 
 The Lapidary's Idol. Gold is Tram, 
 And a poor Salary fit for Grooms ; wear thefe 
 As fludded Stars in your Armour, and make the Sun 
 Look dim with jealoufy of a greater Light 
 Than his Beams gild the Day with : when it is 
 Expos'd to View, call it Honoria % Gift, 
 The Queen Honoria 's Gift, that loves a Soldier ; 
 And, to give Ornament and Luflre to him, 
 Parts freely with her own. Yet, not to take 
 From the Magnificence of the King, I will 
 Difpenfe his Bounty too, but as a Page 
 To wait on mine ; for other Ufes take 
 A hundred thoufand Crowns ; your Hand, dear Sir, 
 And this fhall be thy Warrant. 
 
 [Takes off the King's Signet, 
 
 Eub. I perceive 
 I was cheated in this Woman : Now me is 
 F th' giving Vein to Soldiers, let her be proud, 
 And the King doat, fo ihe go on, I care not. [Afide. 
 
 Hon. This done, our Pleafure is, that all Arrears 
 Be paid unto the Captains, and their Troops, 
 With a large Donative to increafe their Zeal 
 For the Service of the Kingdom. 
 
 Eub. Better ft/ill; 
 Let Men of Arms be us'd thus : If they do not 
 Charge defperately upon the Cannon's Mouth, 
 Tho' the Devil roar'd, and fight like Dragons, hang 
 
 me. 
 Now they may drink Sack; but fmall Beer, with a Paff- 
 
 port 
 To beg with as they travel, and no Money, 
 Turns their red Blood to Butter-milk. 
 
 Hon. Are you pleas'd, Sir, 
 With what I have done ? 
 
 Ladif. Yes, and thus confirm it 
 With this Addition of mine own : You have, Sir, 
 
 C 3 
 
 414967
 
 38 THE PICTURE, 
 
 hrom our lov'd Queen received fome Recompencc 
 For your Life hazarded in the late Action ; 
 And, that we may follow her great Example 
 In chcrifhing Valour, without Limit afk 
 What you from us can wifh. 
 
 Math. If it be true, 
 Dread Sir, as 'tis affirm'd, that every Soil, 
 Where he is well, is to a valiant Man 
 His natural Country; Reafon may afTure me 
 I fhould fix here, where Bleffings beyond Hope, 
 From you, the Spring, like Rivers flow unto me. 
 If Wealth were my Ambition, by the Queen 
 I am made rich already, to the Amazement 
 Of all that fee, or fhall hereafter read 
 The Story of her Bounty ; if to fpend 
 The Remnant of my Life in Deeds of Arms, 
 No Region is more fertile of good Knights, 
 From whom my Knowledge that Way may be better'd, 
 Than this your warlike Hungary ; if Favour, 
 Or Grace in Court could take me, by your Grant, 
 Far, far beyond my Merit, I may make 
 In yours a free Election ; but, alas ! Sir, 
 I am not mine own, but by, my Defl iny 
 (Which I cannot refift) fore'd to prefer 
 My Country's Smoke, before the glorious Fire 
 With which your Bounties warm me. All I afk, Sir, 
 Though I cannot be ignorant it muft relifh 
 Of foul Ingratitude, is your gracious Licence 
 For my Departure. 
 
 Ladif. Whither ? 
 
 Math. To my own Home ; Sir, 
 My own Poor home ; which will at my Return 
 Grow rich by your Magnificence. I am here 
 But a Body without a Soul ; and, till I find it 
 In the Embraces of my conftant Wife, and, to fet off 
 
 that Conftancy, 
 In her Beauty and matchlefs Excellencies without a Rival, 
 I am but half myfelf. 
 
 Hon. And is fhe then 
 So chafle and fair as you infer ?
 
 THE PICTURE.- % 
 
 Math, O, Madam, 
 Tho' it, mult argue Weaknefs in a rich Man, ' 
 
 To Ihow his Gold before an armed Thief, 
 And I, in praiiing of my Wife, but feed 
 The Fire of Luft in others to attempt her ; 
 Such is my full-fail'd Confidence in her Virtue, 
 Tho' in my Ab fence Ihe were now befieg'd 
 By a flrong Army of lafcivious Wooers, 
 (And every one more expert in his Art, 
 Than thofe that tempted chafte Penelope ;) 
 Tho' they rais'd Batteries by prodigal Gifts, 
 By amorous Letters, Vows made for her Service, 
 With all the Engines wanton Appetite 
 Could mount to (hake the Fortrefs of her Honour ; 
 Here, here is my Aflurance Ihe holds out, 
 
 [KiJJes the Picture. 
 And is impregnable. 
 
 Hon. What's that ? 
 
 Math. Her fair Figure. 
 
 Ladif. As I live, an excellent Face ! 
 
 Hon. You have feen a better. 
 
 Ladif. I ! ne'er, except yours ; nay, frown not, fwcet- 
 eft; 
 The Cyprian Queen, compar'd to you, in my 
 Opinion, is a Negro. As you order'd, 
 I'll fee the Soldiers paid ; and in my Abfence 
 Pray you ufe your powerful Arguments, to Hay 
 This Gentleman in our Service. 
 
 Hon. I will do 
 My Part. 
 
 Ladif. On to the Camp. 
 
 [Exeunt Ladiflaus, Ferdinand, Eubulus, 
 Baptifta, Captains. 
 
 Hon. I am full of Thoughts. 
 And fomething there is here I muftgive Form to, 
 Tho' yet an Embrion : you, Signiors, 
 Have no Bufinefs with the Soldier, as I take it, 
 You are for other Warfare ; quit the Place, 
 But be within call. 
 
 C4
 
 4 o THE PICTURE, 
 
 Ric. Employment, on my Life, Boy. 
 
 UbaL If it lie in our Road, we are made for ever. 
 
 [Exeunt Ubaldo, Ricardo. 
 
 Hon. You may perceive the King is no Way tainted 
 With the Difeafe of Jealoufy, fince he leaves me 
 Thus private with you. 
 
 Math. It were in him, Madam, 
 A Sin unpardonable, to diftruft fuch Purencfs, 
 Tho' I were an Adonis, 
 
 Hon. I prefume 
 He neither does, nor dares : And yet the Story 
 Delivered of you by the General, 
 With your heroic Courage (which finks deeply 
 Into a knowing Woman's Heart) befides 
 Your promifing Prefence, might beget fome Scruple 
 In a meaner Man : But more of this hereafter ; 
 I'll take another Theme now, and conjure you 
 By the Honours you have won, and by the Love- 
 Sacred to your dear Wife, to anfwer truly 
 To what I lhall demand. 
 
 Math, You need not ufe 
 Charms to this Purpofe, Madam. 
 
 Hon. Tell me then, 
 Being yourfelf aflur'd 'tis not in Man 
 To fully with one Spot th' immaculate Whitenefs 
 Of your Wife's Honour, if you have not fince 
 The Gordian of your Love was ty'd by Marriage, 
 Play'd falfe with her ? 
 
 Math. By the Hopes of Mercy, never. 
 
 Hon. It may be, not frequenting the Converfe 
 Of handfome Ladies, you were never tempted, 
 And foyour Faith's untried yet. 
 
 Math. Surely, Madam, 
 I am no Woman Hater ; I have been 
 Received to the Society of the beft 
 And faireit of our Climate, and have met with 
 No common Entertainment, yet ne'er felt 
 The lead Heat that Way. 
 
 Hon. Strange ! and do you think ftil), 
 Tl?e Earth can fhow no Beauty that can drench
 
 THE PICTURE. 4I 
 
 In Lethe all Remembrance of the Favour 
 You now bear to your own ? 
 
 Math. Nature muft find out 
 Some other Mould to fafhion a new Creature 
 Fairer than her Pandora, ere I prov:e 
 Guilty, or in my Wifhes or my Thoughts, 
 To my Sophia* 
 
 Hon. Sir, confider better ; 
 Not one in our whole Sex ? 
 
 Math. I am conftant to 
 My Rcfolution. 
 
 Hon. But, dare you Hand 
 The Oppofition, and bind yourfelf 
 By Oath for the Performance ? 
 
 Math. My Faith elfe 
 Had but a weak Foundation. 
 
 Hon. I take hold 
 Upon your Promife, and enjoin your Stay 
 For one Month here 
 
 Math. I am caught. 
 
 Hon. And if I do not 
 Produce a Lady in that Time that mall 
 Make you confefs your Error, I fubmit 
 Myfelf to any Penalty you mail pleafe 
 T' impofe upon me : In the mean Space, write 
 To your chafte Wife, acquaint her with your Fortune ; 
 The Jewels that were mine you may fend to her, 
 For better Confirmation, I'll provide you 
 Of trufty Meflengers : But how far diftant is me ? 
 
 Math. A Day's hard Riding. 
 
 Hon. There's no retiring ; 
 I'll bind you to your Word. 
 
 Math. Well, fince there is 
 No Way to fhun it, I will ftand the Hazard, 
 And inftantly make ready my Difpatch : 
 Till then, I'll leave your Majcfty. [Exit Mathias. 
 
 Hon. How I burft 
 With Envy, that there lives, befidcs myfelf, 
 One fair and loyal Woman ; 'twas the End 
 Of my Ambition, to be recorded
 
 4 i THE PICTURE. 
 
 The only Wonder of the Age ; and fhall I 
 
 Give Way to a Competitor ? Nay more, 
 
 To add to my Affliction, the Aflurances 
 
 That I plac'd in my Beauty have deceiv'd me : 
 
 I thought one amorous Glance of mine could bring 
 
 All Hearts to my Subje&ion ; but this Stranger, 
 
 Unmov'd as Rocks, contemns me. But I cannot 
 
 Sit down fo with my Honour : I will gain 
 
 A double Victory, by working him 
 
 To my Defire, and taint her in her Honour, 
 
 Or lole myfelf. I have read, that fome Time Poifon 
 
 Is ufeful ; to fupplant her, I'll employ 
 
 With any Coit, Ubaldo and Ricardo, 
 
 Two noted Courtiers, of approved Cunning 
 
 In all the Windings of Luft s Labyrinth ; 
 
 And in corrupting him, I will outgo 
 
 Nero's Poppaea : If he fhut his Ears 
 
 Againft my Syren Notes, I'll boldly fwear 
 
 Uljjfes lives again ; or that I have found 
 
 A frozen Cynic, cold in fpite of all 
 
 Allurements ; one, whom Beauty cannot move, 
 
 Nor fofteft Blandifhments entice to Love. 
 
 [Exit Honoria. 
 
 End of the Second J8, 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Hilario. 
 
 THIN, thin Provifion ! I am dieted 
 Like one fet to watch Hawks ; and to keep me 
 waking, 
 My croaking Guts make a perpetual 'Lamm. 
 Here I ftand Centinel ; and, tho' I fright 
 Beggars from my Lady's Gate, in Hope to have 
 A greater Share, I find my Commons mendjiot. 
 I look'd this Morning in my Glafs, the River ;
 
 THE PICTURE. 43 
 
 And there appear'd a Fifh, call'd a Poor John, 
 
 Cut with a lenten Face in my own Likenefs ; 
 
 And it feem'd to fpeak, and fay, Good-mcrrow, CoufinI 
 
 No Man comes this Way but has a Fling at me : 
 
 A Chirurgeon palling by, afk'd, at whac Rate 
 
 I would fell myfelf ? I anfwered, For what Ufe ? 
 
 To make, faid he, a living Anatomy, 
 
 And fet thee up in our Hall, for thou art tranfparent 
 
 Without DifTe&ion : and indeed he had Reafon ; 
 
 For I am fcour'd with this poor Porridge to nothing. 
 
 They fay that Hunger dwells in the Camp ; but till 
 
 My Lord returns, or certain Tidings of him, ' 
 
 He will not part with me. But Sorrow's dry, 
 
 And I mull drink howfoever. 
 
 Enter Ubaldo, and Ricardo, Guide. 
 
 Guide. That is her Caflle,' 
 Upon my certain Knowledge. 
 
 Ubal. Our Horfes held out 
 To my Defire. I am afire to be at it. 
 
 Rk. Take the Jades for thy Reward ; before I part 
 hence, S 
 
 I hope to be better carried. Give me the Cabinet : 
 So, leave us now. 
 
 Guide. Good Fortune to you, Gallants. [Exit Guide. 
 
 Ubal, Being joint Agents in a Defign, of Truft too, 
 For the Service of the Queen and our own Pleaiure, 
 Let us proceed with Judgment. 
 
 Ric. If I take not 
 This Fort at the firft Affault, make me an Eunuch, 
 So I may have precedence. 
 
 Ubal. On no Terms. 
 We are both to play one Prize ; he that works beft 
 I' the fearching this Mine, fhall car.y it 
 Without Contention. 
 
 Ric. Make you your Approaches 
 As I directed. 
 
 Ubal. I need no Inftrudtion ; 
 I work not on your Anvil. I'll give Fire
 
 44 THE PICTURE. 
 
 Wirh mine own Linftock ; if the Powder be dank, 
 The Devil rend the Touch-hole. Who have we here ? 
 What Skeleton's this ? 
 
 Ric. A Ghoft ; or the Image of Famine. 
 Where doft thou dwell ? 
 
 Nil. Dwell, Sir ? My Dwelling is 
 I'th' Highway. That goodly Houfe was once 
 My Habitation ; but I am banifhed, 
 And cannot be call'dHome, till News arrive 
 Of the good Knight Mathias. 
 
 Rk. If that will 
 Reftore thee, thou art fafe. 
 
 Ubal. We come from him, 
 With Prefents to his Lady. 
 
 Nil. But, are you fure 
 He is in Health ? 
 
 Rk. Never fo well : Conduct us 
 To the Lady. 
 
 UiL Tho' a poor Snake, I will leap 
 Out of my Skin for Joy. Break, Pitcher, break ; 
 And Wallet, late my Cupboard, I bequeath thee 
 To the next Beggar ; thou red Herring, fwim 
 To the Red Sea again. Methinks I am already 
 Knuckle deep in the Flefh-pots; and, tho' waking, 
 
 dream 
 Of Wine and Plenty. 
 
 Ric. What's the Myflery 
 Of this ftrange Paflion ? 
 
 HiL My Belly, Gentlemen, 
 Will not give me leave to tell you. When I have 
 
 brought you 
 To my Lady's Prcfcnce, I am difenchanted. 
 There you mail know all. Follow : If I outftrip you, 
 Know I run for my Belly. 
 
 >UbaL A mad Fellow. [Exeunt.
 
 THE PICTURE. 45 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Sophia, Corifca. 
 
 Soph. Do not again delude me. 
 
 Corif. If I do, fend me a grazing with my Frier 
 Hilario. 
 I flood, as you commanded, in the Turret 
 Obferving all that pafs'd by : And even now 
 I did difcern a Pair of Cavaliers, 
 For fuch their Outnde fpoke them, with their Guide, 
 Difmounting from their Horfes ; they faid fomething 
 To our hungry Centinel, that made him caper 
 And frifk i' th' Air for Joy : And, to confirm this, 
 See, Madam, they're in View-, 
 
 Enter Hilario, Ubaldo, Ricardo. 
 
 Hil. News from my Lord ! 
 Tidings of Joy ! thefe are no Counterfeits, 
 But Knights indeed. Dear Madam, lign my Pardon, 
 Tha 1 ; I may feed again, and pick up my Crumbs : 
 I have had a long Fall of it. 
 
 Soph. Eat, I forgive thee. 
 
 Hil. O comfortable Words ! Eat, I forgive thee ! 
 And, if in this I do not foon obey you, 
 And ram in to the Purpofe, biliet me again 
 I' th' Highway. Butler and Cook be ready, 
 For I enter like a Tyjrant. [Exit Hilario. 
 
 Ubal. Since mine Eyes 
 Were never happy in fo fweet an Object, 
 Without Inquiry, I prefume you are 
 The Lady of the Houfe, and do falute you. 
 
 Ric. This Letter, with thefe Jewels, from your Lord, 
 Warrant my Boldnefs, Madam. 
 
 Ubal. In being a Servant 
 To fuch rare Beauty, you muft needs deferve 
 ThisCourtefy from a Stranger. [To Corifca. 
 
 Salutes her.
 
 46 THE PICTURE. 
 
 Ric. You are ftill 
 Before-hand with me. Pretty one, I defcend 
 To take the Height of your Lip ; and, if I mifs 
 In the Altitude, hereafter, if you pleafe, 
 1 will make Ufe of my Jacob's Staff. 
 
 [Sophia having in the Interim read the Letter , 
 and opend the Cajket. 
 Corif. Thefe Gentlemen 
 Have certainly had good Breeding, as it appears 
 By their neat Kiffing, they hit me fo pat on the Lips 
 At the firft Sight. 
 
 Soph. Heaven, in thy Mercy, make me 
 Thy thankful Handmaid, for this boundlefs Blcfling, 
 In thy Goodnefs (hower'd upon me. 
 
 Ubal. I do not like 
 This fimple Devotion in her ; it is feldom 
 Pra&is'd among my Miftrefies. 
 
 Ric, Or mine. 
 Would they kneel to I know not who, for the Poffeffion 
 Of fuch incftimable Wealth, before 
 They thank'd the Bringers of it ? The poor Lady 
 Does want Initruction ; but I'll be her Tutor, 
 And read her another Leflbn. . 
 
 Soph. If I have 
 Shown Want of Manners, Gentlemen, in my Slownefs 
 To pay the Thanks I owe you for your Travel, 
 To do my Lord and me (howe'er unworthy 
 Of fuch a Benefit) this noble Favour : 
 Impute it, in your Clemency, to the Excefs 
 
 Of Joy that overwhelmed me. 
 
 Ric. She fpeaks well. 
 Ubal. Polite and courtly. 
 Soph. And howe'er it may 
 Increafe th' Offence, to trouble you with more 
 Demands touching my Lord, before I have 
 Invited you to tafte fuch as the Coarfencfs 
 Of my poor Houfe can offer ; pray you connive 
 On my weak Tendernefs, tho' 1 intreat 
 To learn from you fomething he hath, it may be, 
 In his Letter left unmention'd.
 
 THE PICTURE. 47 
 
 Ric. I can only 
 Give you Affurance that he is in Health, 
 Grac'd by the King and Queen. 
 
 Ubal. And in the Court 
 With Admiration look'd on. 
 
 Ric. You mult therefore 
 Put off thefe Widow's Garments, and appear 
 Like to yourfelf. 
 
 Ubal. And entertain all Pleafures 
 Your Fortune marks out for you. 
 
 Ric. There are other 
 Particular Privacies, which on Occafion 
 I will deliver to you. 
 
 Soph. You oblige me 
 To your Service ever. 
 
 Ric. Good ! your Service ; mark that. 
 
 Soph. In the mean Time, by your Acceptance make 
 My ruftic Entertainment reliih of 
 The Curioufnefs of the Court. 
 
 Ubal. Your Looks, fweet Madam, 
 Cannot but make each Diih a Feaft. 
 Soph. It fhall be 
 
 Such, in the Freedom of my Will to pleafe you. 
 I'll ihew the Way : This is too great an Honour 
 From fuch brave Guefls, to me fo mean an Hoftefs. 
 
 [Exeunt* 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter Acanthe to four or five zmth Vizards. 
 
 Acan. You know your. Charge; give it Action, and 
 expect 
 Rewards beyond your Hopes. 
 
 i Viz. If we but eye 'em, 
 They are ours, I warrant you. 
 
 2 Viz. May we not afk why 
 We are put upon this ? 
 
 Acan. Let that (top your Mouth, 
 And learn more Manners, Groom. 'Tis upon the Hour
 
 48 THE PICTURE, 
 
 In which they ufe to walk here : When you have 'em 
 
 In your Tower, with Violence carry them to the Place 
 
 Where I appointed : There I will expect you. 
 
 Be bold and careful. [Exit Acanthe. 
 
 Enter Mathias and Baptifta. 
 
 i Viz, Thefc are they. 
 
 2 Viz. Are you fure ? 
 
 i Viz. Am I fure I am myfelf ? 
 
 2, Viz. Seize on him ftrongly ; if he have but Means 
 To draw his Sword, 'tis ten to one we fmart for't. 
 Take all Advantages. 
 
 Math. I cannot guefs 
 What her Intents are ; but her Carriage was 
 As I but now related. 
 
 Bapt. Your Aflu ranee 
 In the Conftancy of your Lad)', is the Armour 
 That mud defend you. Where's the Picture ? 
 
 Math. Here, 
 And no Way alter 'd. 
 
 Bapt. If me be not perfect, 
 There is no Truth in Art. 
 
 Math* By this, I hope, 
 She hath receiy'd my Letters. 
 
 Bapt. Without Qucftion. 
 Thefe Courtiers are rank Riders, when they arc 
 To viiit a handlbme Lady. 
 
 Math. Lend me your ear. 
 One Piece of her Entertainment will require 
 Your deareft Privacy. 
 
 i Viz. Now they ftand fair, 
 Upon 'em. 
 
 Math. Villains ! 
 
 i Viz. Stop their Mouths. We come not 
 To try your Valours. Kill him, if he offer 
 To open his Mouth. We have you. 'Tis in vain 
 To make Rcfiftance. Mount 'em, and away. 
 
 [_Exeunt.
 
 THE PICTURE. 49 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Enter Servants with Lights, Ladiilaus, Ferdinand, Eu- 
 
 bulus. 
 
 Ladif. 'Tis late. Go to' your Reft : But do not envy 
 The Happinefs I draw near to. 
 
 Eub. If you enjoy it 
 The moderate Way, the Sport yields, I confefs, 
 A pretty Titillation ; but too much oft 
 Will bring you on your Knees. In my younger Days 
 I was myfelf a Gamefter ; and I found 
 By fad Experience, there is no fuch Soaker 
 As a young fpongy Wife ! fhe keeps a thoufand 
 Horfe Leeches in her Box, and the Thieves will fuck 
 
 out 
 Both Blood and Marrow ! I feel a Kind of Cramp 
 In my Joints, when I think on't. But it may be Queens, 
 And fuch a Queen as yours is, has th\ Art 
 
 Ferd. You take Leave 
 To talk, my Lord. 
 
 Ladif. He may, lince he can do nothing. 
 
 Eub. If you fpend this Way too much of your royal 
 Stock, 
 Ere long we may be Puefellows. 
 
 Ladif. The Door fliut ! 
 Knock gently ; harder. So, here comes her Woman. 
 Take off my Gown. 
 
 Enier Acanthe. 
 
 Acan. My Lord, the Queen by me 
 This Night defires your Pardon. 
 
 Ladif. How, Acanthe I 
 I come by her Appointment ; 'twas her Grant f ; 
 The Motion was her own. 
 
 Acan. It may be, Sir ; 
 But by her Doctors fhe is fince advis'd, 
 For her Health's Sake, to forbear. 
 
 Vol. I. D
 
 5 c THE PICTURE. 
 
 Eub. I do not like 
 This phyfical Letchery ; the old downright Way 
 Is worth a Thoufand of 't. 
 
 Ladif Prithee, Acantbe, 
 Mediate for me. 
 
 Eub. G the Fiends of Hell ! 
 Would any Man bribe his Servant, to make Way 
 To his own Wife ? If this be the Court State, 
 Shame fall on fuch as ule it. 
 
 Aran. By this Jewel, 
 This Night I dare not move her ; but to-morrow 
 I will watch all Occafion. 
 
 Ladif. Take this, 
 To be mindful of me. [Exit Acantlie. 
 
 Eub. 'Slight, I thought a King 
 
 Might have taken up any Woman at the. King's Price ; 
 And mull he buy his own, at a dearer Rate 
 Than a Stranger in a Brothel ? 
 
 Ladif. What is that 
 You mutter, Sir ? 
 
 Eub. No Treafon to your Honour : 
 I'll fpeak it out, tho' it anger you : If you pay for 
 Your lawful Pieaiure, in fome Kind, great Sir, 
 What do you make the Queen ? Cannot you clicket 
 Without a Fee? or when ihe has a Suit for you to grant? 
 
 Ferd, O hold, Sir ! 
 
 Ladif. Off with his Head. 
 
 Eub. Do when you pleafe ; you but blow out a Taper 
 That would light your Underilanding, and in Care oft 
 Is burnt down to the Socket. Be as you are, Sir, 
 An abfolute Monarch : It did fhew.more King-like 
 In thofe libidinous Gefars, that compell'd 
 Matrons and Virgins of all Ranks to bow 
 Unto their rav'nous Lufts ; and did admit 
 Of more Excufe than I can urge for vou, 
 That Have yourfelf to th' imperious Humour 
 Of a proud Beauty. 
 
 Ladif. Out of my Sight. 
 
 Fj'.b. I will, Sir, . 
 Give Way to jour furious PafHon : But when Realbn
 
 THE PICTURE. 51 
 
 Hath got the better of it, I much hope 
 
 The Counfel that offends now, will deferve 
 
 Your royal Thanks. Tranquillity of Mind 
 
 Stay with you, Sir. I do begin to doubt 
 
 There's fomething more in the Queen's Strangenefs than 
 
 Is yet difclos'd ; and I'll find it out, 
 
 Or lofe my felt in the Search. [Exit Eubulus, 
 
 Ferd. Sure he is honeft, 
 And from your Infancy hath truly ferv'd you : 
 Let that plead for him, and impute this Harfhnefs 
 To the Frowardnefs of his Age. 
 
 Ladif. I am much troubled, 
 And do begin to dagger. Ferdinand, good Night ! 
 To-morrow vifit us. Back to our own Lodgings. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 Enter Acanthe, the vizarded Servants, Mathias, Baptifra. 
 
 Jean, You have done bravely. Lock this in that 
 - Room, [They carry off Baptifta. 
 
 There let him ruminate ; I'll anon unhood him : 
 The other muft flay here. As foon as I 
 Have quit the Place, give him the Liberty 
 And Ufe of his Eyes ; that done, difperfe yonrfelves 
 As privately as you can : But, on your Lives, - 
 No Word of what hath pafs'd. [Exit Acanthe. 
 
 1 Viz. If I do, fell 
 My Tongue to a Tripe Wife. Come, unbind his Arms; 
 You are now at your own Difpofure, and however 
 We us'd you roughly, I hope you will find here 
 Such Entertainment as will give you Caufe 
 To thank us for the Service : and lb we leave you. 
 
 \_Exeunt Servants* 
 
 Math, If I am in a Prifon, 'tis a neat one. 
 What OEdipus can rcfolve this Riddle ? Ha ! 
 I never gave juft Caufe to any Man 
 Balely to plot againft my Ljf e . But what is 
 
 D 2
 
 &1 THE PICTURE. 
 
 Become of my true Friend ? for him I fuffer 
 More than myfelf. 
 
 Acan. Remove that idle Fear ; [From behind. 
 
 He's -(life as you arc. 
 
 Math. Whofoe'er thou art, , 
 For him I thank thee. I cannot imagine 
 Where I mould be : Tho' I have read the Table 
 Of Errant-knighthood, ftufFd with the Relations 
 Of magical Enchantments ; yet I am not 
 So fottilhly credulous to believe the Devil 
 Hath that Way Power. Ha ! Mufic ! 
 
 Mufic above. A Song of Pleafure. 
 
 *i The blufting Rofe and purple Flower, 
 Let grozv too long, are fooneft blajled. 
 
 Dainty Fruits, though fweet, will four , 
 And rot in Ripenefs, left unt a/led. 
 
 Tet here is one more fweet than thefe ; 
 
 The more you tafle, the more Jhe'llpleafe. 
 
 Beauty, tho' inched with Ice, 
 Is a Shadow chafe as rare : 
 * Then how much thofe Sweets entice, 
 That have If ue full as fair ! 
 F,arth cannot yield from all her Prowers, 
 One equal for Dame Venus' Bowers. 
 
 A Song too ! Certainly be it he or fhe 
 
 That owns this Voice, it hath not been acquainted 
 
 With much Affliction. Whofoe'er you are 
 
 That do inhabit here, if you have Bodies, 
 
 And are not mere aerial Forms, appear, 
 
 7 This Song puts me in Mind of Stv(/i's Love-Song, 
 
 Cupid, fprcad thy purple Pinions, 
 Sweetly waving o'er my Hcad y &c. 
 
 and fcems to have as little Meaning in it. M. M.
 
 THE PICTURE, $$ 
 
 Enter Honoria, mqfk'd. 
 
 And make me know your End with me. Mofl ftrange ! 
 What have I conjur'd up ? Sure, if this be 
 A Spirit, 'tis no damn'd one ! What a Shape's here ! 
 Then with what Majefty it moves ! if Juno 
 Were now to keep her State among the Gods, 
 And Hercules to be made again her Gueft, 
 She could not put on a more glorious Habit, 
 Tho' her Handmaid, Iris, lent her various Colours, 
 Or old Oceanus ravilh'd from the deep 
 All Jewels fhipwreck'd in it. As you have 
 Thus far made known yourfelf, if that your Face 
 Have not too much Dignity about it 
 For mortal Eyes to gaze on, perfect what 
 You have begun, with Wonder and Amazement 
 To my aftonifh'd Senfes. How ! the Queen ! [Kneels. 
 
 [Sbe pulls off her Majk. 
 
 Hon. Rife, Sir, and hear my Reafons, in Defence . 
 Of the Rape (for lb you may conceive) which I 
 By my Instruments made upon you. You, perhaps, 
 May think what you have fuffer'd for my Lull 
 Is a common Practice with me ; but I call 
 Thofe ever-lhining Lamps, and their great Maker, 
 As Wltneffes of my Innocence : I ne'er look'd on 
 A Man but your belt fell", on whom I ever 
 (Except the King) vouchfaf 'd an Eye of Favour. 
 
 Math. The King, indeed, and only fuch a King, 
 Deferves your Rarities, Madam ; and, but he, 
 'Twerc giant-like Ambition in anv, 
 In his Wifhes only, to prefume to tafte 
 The Nectar of your KhTes ; or to feed 
 His Appetite with that Ambrofia, due 
 And proper to a Prince ; and, what binds more, 
 A lawful Hufband. For myfelf, great Queen, 
 I am a Thing obfeure, disfurnifh'd of 
 All Merit that can raife me higher than 
 In my mofl humble Thankfulneis for your Bonntv, 
 
 D 1
 
 THE PICTURE. 
 
 To hazard my Life for you, and that Way 
 I am mod ambitious. 
 
 Hon, I defirc no more 
 Than what you promife. If you dare expofe 
 Your Life, as you profefs, to do me Service, 
 How can it better be employ'd than in 
 Preferving mine ? which only you can do, 
 And muft do with the Danger of your own. 
 A defperate Danger too ! If private Men 
 Can brook no Rivals in what they affect, 
 But to the Death purfue fuch as invade 
 What Law makes their Inheritance ; the King, 
 To whom you know I am dearer than his Crown, 
 His Health, his Eyes, his After-hopes, with all 
 His prefent Bleffings, muft fall on that Man 
 Like dreadful Lightning, that is won by Prayers, 
 Threats, or Rewards, to flain his Bed, or make 
 His hop'd-for IfTue doubtful. 
 
 Math. If you aim 
 At what I more than fear 37-011 do, the Reafons 
 Which you deliver, fhould in Judgment rather 
 Deter me, than invite a Grant, with my 
 Allured ruin. 
 
 Hon, True, if that you were 
 Of a cold Temper, one whom Doubt, or Fear, 
 In the moft horrid Forms they could put on, 
 Might teach to be ingrateful. Your Denial 
 To me that have defer v'd fo much, l8 is more, 
 If it can have Addition. 
 
 Math, I know not 
 What your Commands are. 
 
 Hon, Have you fought fo well 
 Among arm'd Men, yet cannot guefs what Lifts 
 You are to enter, when you are in private 
 With a willing Lady ? One, that to enjoy 
 Your company, this Night deny'd the King 
 Accefs to what's his own. If you will prefs me 
 To fpeak in plainer Language 
 
 18 That is, more than Ingratitude. M, M.
 
 THE PICTURE. $$ 
 
 Math* Pray you, forbear ; 
 I would I did not underfland too much 
 Already. By your Words I am inftructed 
 To credit that, which, not confirm 'd by you, 
 Had bred Sufpicion in me of Untruth, 
 Tho' an Angel had affirm'd it. But fuppofe 
 That, cloy'd with Happinels (which is ever built 
 On virtuous Chaftity) in the Wantonnefs 
 Of Appetite, you defire to make Trial 
 Of the falfe Delights propos'd by vicious Luft ; 
 Among ten thouland, every Way more able 
 And apter to be wrought on, fuch as owe you 
 Obedience, being your Subjects, why mould you 
 Make Choice of me, a Stranger ? 
 
 Hon. Tho' yet Reafon 
 Was ne'er admitted in the Court of Love, 
 I'll yield you one unanfwerable. As I urg'd 
 In our laft Conference, you have 
 A pretty promising Prefence ; but there are 
 Many in Limbs and Feature, who may take 
 That Way the Right-hand File of you : Befides, 
 Your May of Youth is paft, and the Blood fpent 
 By Wounds (tho' bravely taken) render you 
 Difabled for Love's Service ; and that Valour 
 Set off with better Fortune, which, it may be, 
 Swells you above your Bounds, is not the Hook 
 That hath caught me, good Sir : I need no Champion 
 With his Sword, to guard my Honour or my Beauty ; 
 In both I can defend myfelf, and live 
 My own Protection. 
 
 Math. If thefe Advocates, 
 The belt that can plead for me, have no Power ; 
 What elle can you find in me, that may tempt you, 
 With irrecoverable Lofs unto yourfelf, 
 To be a Gainer from me ? 
 
 Hon. You have, Sir, 
 A Jewel of fuch matchlefs Worth and Luftre, 
 As does difdain Comparifon, and darkens 
 
 D 4
 
 56 THEPICTURE. 
 
 All that is rare in other Men ; and that 
 I mu ft or win or leflen. 
 
 Math, You heap more 
 Amazement on me ! What am I poffefs'd of 
 That you can covet ? Make me underftand it, 
 If it have a Name. 
 
 Hon. Yes, an imagin'd one ; 
 But is in Subflance nothing, being a Garment 
 Worn out of Fafhion, and long fince given o'er 
 By the Court and Country ; 'tis your Loyalty, 
 And Conftancy to your Wife; 'tis that I dote on, 
 And does deferve my Envy ; and that Jewel, 
 Or by fair play or foul, I mull win from you. 
 
 Math. Thefe are mere Contraries. If you love me, 
 Madam, 
 For my Conftancy, why feek you to deftroy it ? 
 If my keeping it, preferves me worth your Favour, 
 Or, if it be a Jewel of that Value, 
 As you with labour'd Rhetoric would perfuade me, 
 What can you ftake againft it ? 
 
 Hon. A Queen's Fame, 
 And equal Honour. 
 
 Math. So, whoever wins, 
 Both mall be Lofers. 
 
 Hon. That is what I aim at. 
 Yet on the Dye I lay my Youth, my Beauty, 
 This moift Palm, this foft Lip, and thofe Delights 
 Darknefs lhould only judge of ! Do you find 'em 
 Infectious in the Trial, that you ftart 
 As frighted with their Touch ? 
 
 Math. Is it in Man 
 To refill fuch ftrong Temptations ? 
 
 Hon. He begins 
 To waver. [Apde. 
 
 Math. Madam, as you are gracious, 
 Grant this ftiort Night's Deliberation to me ; 
 And, with the rifing Sun, from me you mall 
 Receive full Satisfaction. 
 
 Hon. Tho' Extremes 
 Hate all Delay, I will deny you nothing ;
 
 THE PICTURE. 57 
 
 This Key will bring you to your Friend ; you are both 
 
 fafe : 
 And all Things ufeful that could be prepar'd 
 For one I love and honour, wait upon you. 
 Take Counfel of your Pillow, fuch a Fortune 
 As with Affection's fwifteit Wings flies to you, 
 Will not be often tender'd. [Exit Honoria. 
 
 Math, How my Blood 
 Rebels ! I now could call her back and yet 
 There's fomething flays me : If the King had tender'd 
 Such Favours to my Wife, 'tis to be doubted 
 They had not been refus'd : But, being a Man, 
 I mould not yield firft, or prove an Example 
 For her Defence of Frailty. By this, fans Queflion, 
 She's tempted too ; and here I may examine 
 
 [Looks on the Pitiure, 
 How fhe holds out. She's flill the fame, the fame 
 Pure Cryftal Rock of Chaftity ! Perifh all 
 Allurements that may alter me ! The Snow 
 Of her fvveet Coldnefs, hath extinguilhed quite 
 The Fire that but even now began to flame : 
 And I, by her confirm'd, Rewards, nor Titles, 
 Nor certain Death from the refufed Queen, 
 Shall fhake my Faith ; fince I refolve to be 
 Loyal to her, as fhe is true to me. [Exit Mathias. 
 
 Enter Ubaldo, Ricardo. 
 
 Ubal, What we fpake on the Volley l 9 begins to work, 
 We have laid a good Foundation. 
 
 Ric, Build it up, 
 Or elfe 'tis nothing : You have by Lot the Honour 
 Of the firft Affault ; but, as it is conditional, 
 Obferve the Time proportion'd ; 111 not part with 
 My Share in the Achievement ; when I whittle, 
 Or hem, fall off. 
 
 9 On the Volley. A literal Tranflation of the French Phrafe a la 
 wk'e, which fignifies at random, or inconfidcratdy. M. M.
 
 5 S THE PICTURE, 
 
 Enter Sophia. 
 
 Ubal. She comes. Stand by, I'll watch * 
 My Opportunity. 
 
 Soph. I find myfelf 
 Strangely diffracted with the various Stones, 
 Now well, now ill, then doubfully, by my Guefts 
 Deliver'd of my Lord : And like poor Beggars 
 That in their Dreams find Treafure, by Reflection 
 Of a wounded Fancy make it queftionable 
 Whether they fleep, or not ; yet tickl'd with 
 Such a fantaftick Hope of Happinefs, 
 Wilh they may never wake : In fome fuch Meafure r 
 Incredulous of what I fee and touch, 
 As 'twere a fading Apparition, I 
 Am Hill perplex'd, and troubled ; and when moft 
 Confirm'd 'tis true, a curious Jealoufy 
 To be allured, by what Means, and from whom, 
 Such a Mafs of Wealth was firft deierv'd, then gotten, 
 Cunningly fteals into me. I have practis'd, 
 For my certain Refolution, with thefe Courtiers > 
 Promising private Conference to either. 
 And at this Hour, if in Search of the Truth, 
 I hear, or fay, more than becomes my Virtue, 
 Forgive me, my Mathias. 
 
 Ubal. Now I make in. 
 Madam, as you commanded, I attend 
 Your Pleafure. 
 
 Soph. I muft thank you for the Favour. 
 
 Ubal. I am no ghoftly Father ; yet if you have 
 Some Scruples, touching your Lord, you would be re- 
 
 folv'd of, 
 I am prepar'd. 
 
 Soph. But will you take your Oath, 
 To anfwer truly ? 
 
 Ubal. On the Hem of your Smock if you pleafe, 
 A Vow I dare not break, it being a Book 
 I would gladly fwear on.
 
 THE PICTURE. 59 
 
 Soph* To fpare, Sir, that Trouble, 
 I'll take your Word ; which in a Gentleman 
 Should be of equal Value. Is my Lord, then, 
 In fuch Grace with the Queen ? 
 
 Ubal. You ihould beft know, 
 By what you have found from him, whether he can 
 Deferve Grace or no. 
 
 Soph. What Grace do you mean ? 
 
 UbaL That fpecial Grace (if you'll have it) 
 He laboured fo hard for between a Pair of Sheets 
 On your Wedding Night, when your Ladyfhip 
 Loft you know what. 
 
 Soph. Fie, be more modeft, 
 Or I muft leave you. 
 
 UbaL I would tell a Truth 
 As cleanly as I could, and yet the Subject 
 Makes me run out a little. 
 
 Soph. You would put now 
 A foolim Jealoufy in my Head, my Lord 
 Hath gotten a new Miftrefs. 
 
 UbaL One, a hundred : 
 But under Seal I fpeak it ; I prefume 
 Upon your Silence, it being for your Profit ; 
 They talk of Hercules' Back for fifty in a Night, * 
 'Twas well ; but yet to yours he was a Pidler : 
 Such a Soldier, and a Courtier never came 
 To Aula regalis, the Ladies run mad for him, 
 And there is fuch Contention among 'em 
 Who fhall engrofs him wholly, that the like 
 Was never heard of. 
 
 ft$T 20 They talk of Hercules' Bad for fifty in a Night, 
 Tivas ivell t &c. 
 
 Thi Freedom of Language, I am afraid, will be apt to difpleafe 
 many of MaJJinger's Readers; who, perhaps, will think that fuch 
 Scenes had better have been quite omitted : But as that would not 
 be confident with my Plan, I fhall urge in Defence, that it was the 
 Vice of the Age he lived in ; and that Majfinger was, perhaps, obli- 
 ged more from Neceffity than Inclination, to comply with the Tafte 
 of his Audience, in order to fecure his Pieces a favourable Recep- 
 tion.
 
 60 THEPICTURE. 
 
 Soph. Are they handfome Women ? 
 
 VbaU Fie, no, coarfe Mammets, and what's worfe-, 
 they are old too, 
 Some fifty, fome threefcore, and they pay dear for't, 
 Believing, that he carries a powder in his Breeches 
 Will make 'em young again ; and thefe fuck fhrewdly. 
 
 Ric. Sir, I mud fetch you off. \JVh]jlks. 
 
 Ubal. I could tell you Wonders 
 Of the Cures he has done, but a Bufinefs of Import 
 Calls me away, but, that difpatch'd, I will 
 Be with you prefently. [Hefteps afide. 
 
 Soph. There is fomething more 
 In this than bare Sufpicion. 
 
 Ric. Save you, Lady : 
 Now you look like yourfelf ! I have not look'd on 
 A Lady more compleat, yet have feen a Madam 
 Wear a Garment of this Fafhion, of the fame Stuff too, 
 One juft of your Dimenfions ; fat the wind there, Boy ? 
 
 Soph. What Lady, Sir? 
 
 Ric. Nay, nothing; and methinjes 
 I mould know this Ruby : Very good ; 'tis the fame. 
 This Chain of orient Pearl, and this Diamond too, 
 Have been worn before ; but much Good may they do 
 
 you; 
 Strength to the Gentleman's Back, he toil'd hard for 'em 
 Before he got 'em. 
 
 Soph. Why ? How were they gotten? [Ubaldo hems. 
 
 Ric. Not in the Field with his Sword, upon my Life, 
 He may thank his clofe Stillet too. Plague upon it ; 
 Run the Minutes, fo fall ? Pray excufe my Manners ; 
 I left a Letter in my Chamber Window, 
 Which I wouldnot have feen on any Terms ; Fie on it, 
 Forgetful as I am ; but I'll ftraight attend you. 
 
 [RicardoT?^ afide. 
 
 Soph. This is ftrange ; his Letters faid thefe Jewels 
 were 
 Prefented him by the Queen, as a Reward 
 For his good Service, and the Trunks of Clothes 
 That followed them this lafl Night, withHafte made up 
 By his Direction.
 
 THE PICTURE. 61 
 
 Enter Ubaldo. 
 
 Ubal. I was telling you 
 Of Wonders, Madam. 
 
 Soph. If you are fo fkilful, 
 Without Premeditation anfwer me. 
 Know you this Gown, and thefe rich Jewels ? 
 
 Ubal. Heaven ! 
 How Things will come out ! But that I mould offend 
 
 you, 
 And wrong my more than noble Friend, 
 Your Hufband, (for we are fworn Brothers) in the Dif- 
 
 covery 
 Of his neareft Secrets, I could 
 
 Soph. By the Hope of Favour 
 That you have from me, out with it. 
 
 Ubal. 'Tis a potent Spell, 
 I cannot refift ; why I will tell you, Madam, 
 And to how many feveral Women you are 
 Beholding for your Bravery. This was 
 The Wedding Gown of Paulina, a rich Strumpet, 
 Worn but a Day, when fhe married old Gonzage, 
 And left off trading. 
 
 Soph. O my Heart ! 
 
 Ubal. This Chain 
 Of Pearl was a great Widow's that invited 
 Your Lord to a Mafque, and the Weather proving foul, 
 He lodg'd in her Houfe all Night, and merry they were ; 
 But how he came by it I know not. 
 
 Soph. Perjur'd Man ! 
 
 Ubal. This Ring was Julietta's ; a fine Piece, 
 But very good at the Sport. This Diamond 
 Was Madam Acanthes, given him for a Song 
 Prick'd in a private Arbour, as fhe faid, 
 (When the Queen afk'd for it,) and fhe heard him fing 
 
 too, 
 And danc'd to his Hornpipe, or there are Liars abroad. 
 There are other Toys about you 
 The fame Way purchafs'd ; but parallelled
 
 61 THEPICTURE. 
 
 With thefe, not worth the Relation. 
 
 You are happy in a Hufband ; never Man 
 
 Made better Ufe of his Strength ; would you have him 
 
 wafle 
 His Body away for nothing ? If he holds out, 
 There's not an embroidered Petticoat in the Court 
 But mall be at your Service. 
 
 Soph. I commend him : 
 It is a thriving Trade ; but pray you leave me 
 A little to myielf. 
 
 Ubal. You may command 
 Your Servant, Madam. She's flung unto the Quick, Lad. 
 
 Ric. I did my Part ; if this work not, hang me ; 
 Let her fleep as well as me can to-night, to-morrow 
 We'll mount new Batteries. 
 
 Ubal. And till then leave her. 
 
 [Exeunt Ubaldo, Ricardo. 
 
 Soph. You Powers, that take into your Care the Guard. 
 Of Innocence, aid me ; for I am a Creature 
 So forfeited to Defpair, Hope cannot fancy 
 A Ranfom to redeem me ; I begin 
 To waver in my Faith, and make it doubtful, 
 Whether the Saints that were canoniz'd for 
 Their Holinefs of Life, fin'd not in fecret, 
 Since my Mathias is fail'n from his Virtue 
 In fuch an open Fafhion. Could it be eife, 
 That fuch a Hufband, fo devoted to me, 
 So vow'd to Temperance ; for lafcivions Hire, 
 Should proflitute himfelf to common Harlots, 
 Old and deform'd too ! Was it for this he left me ! 
 And on a feign'd Pretence for want of Means 
 To give me Ornament ? Or to bring Home 
 Difeafes to me ? Suppofe thefe are falfe 
 And luftful Goats, if he were true and right, 
 Why flays he fo long from me, being made rich, 
 And that the only Reafon why he left me ? 
 No, he is loft ; and fhall I wear the Spoils, 
 And Salaries of Lufl ? They cleave unto me 
 Like NejJ'us' poifon'd Shirt. No, in my Rage 
 I'll tear 'em off, and from my Body walh
 
 THE PICTURE. 63 
 
 The Venom with my Tears. Have I no Spleen, 
 Nor Anger of a Woman ? Shall he build 
 Upon my Ruins, and I, unreveng'd, 
 Deplore his Falfehood ? No, with the fame Tram 
 For which he had difhonour'd me, I'll purchafe 
 A juft Revenge. I am not yet fo much 
 In Debt to Years, nor fo misfhap'd, that all 
 Should fly from my Embraces. Chaftity, 
 Thou oniy art a Name, and I renounce thee; 
 I'm now a Servant to Voluptuoufnefs ; 
 Wantons of all Degrees and Fafhions, welcome ; 
 You ihall be entertain'd ; and, if I ftray, 
 Let him condemn himfelf that led the Way. [Exit, 
 
 End of the Third A3. 
 
 ACT IV. S C E N E I. 
 
 Enter Mathias and Baptifla. 
 
 Bapt. \T7E are in a defperate Strait; there's no 
 
 V V Evafion, 
 Nor Hope left to come off, but by your yielding 
 To the Neceffity ; you mufl feign a Grant 
 To her violent Pafiion, or 
 
 Math. What, my Bapt ijia ? 
 
 Bapt. We are but dead elfe. 
 
 Math. Were the Sword now heav'd up, 
 And my neck upon the Block, I would not buy 
 An Hour's Reprieve with the Lofs of Faith and Virtue 
 To be made immortal here. Art thou a Scholar, 
 Nay, almoft without a Parallel, and yet fear 
 To die, which is inevitable ? You may urge 
 The many Years that, by the Courfe of Nature, 
 We may travel in this tedious Pilgrimage, 
 And hold it as a Bleffing, as it is, 
 W T hen Innocence is our Guide ; yet know,- Bap! i/Ia, 
 Our Virtues are preferr'd before our Years,
 
 64 THE PICTURE. 
 
 By the great Judge. To die untainted in 
 
 Our Fame and Reputation is the greateft ; 
 
 And to lofe that, can we dcfire to live ? 
 
 Or mall I, for a momentary Pleafure, 
 
 Which foon comes to a Period, to all Times 
 
 Have breach of Faith and Perjury, remembered 
 
 In a ftill living Epitaph ? No, Baptifta, 
 
 Since my Sophia will go to her Grave, 
 
 Unfpotted in her Faith, I'll follow her 
 
 With equal Loyalty ; but look on this, 
 
 Your own great Work, your Mafter-piece, and then, 
 
 She being full the fame, teach me to alter. 
 
 Ha ! fure I do not fleep ! or, if I dream, 
 
 [The Piclure altered. 
 This is a terrible Virion ! I will clear 
 My Eyeflght ; perhaps melancholy makes me 
 See that which is not. 
 
 Bapt. It is too apparent. 
 I grieve to look upon't ; befides the yellow, 
 That does afTure ine's tempted, there are Lines 
 Of a darkColour, that diiperfe themfelves 
 O'er every Miniature of her Face, and thofe 
 Confirm 
 
 Math. She is turn'd whore. 
 
 Bapt. I muft not fay fo. 
 Yet, as a Friend to Truth, if you will have mc 
 Interpret it, in her Confent and Wiflies 
 She's falfe, but not in Fad: yet. 
 
 Math. Fact! Baptifta? 
 Make not yourfelf a Pander to her Loofenefs, 
 In labouring to palliate what a Vizard 
 Of Impudence cannot cover. Did e'er Woman 
 In her Will decline from Chaftity, but found Means 
 To give her hot Lull: full Scope ? It is more 
 Impofiible in Nature for grofs Bodies, 
 Descending of themfelves, to hang in the Air, 
 Or with my fingle Arm to underprop 
 A falling Tower ; nay, in its violent Courfe 
 To flop the Lightning, than to Hay a Woman
 
 THEPICTURE. 65 
 
 Hurried by two Furies, Luft and Faliehood, 
 In her full Career to Wickednels. 
 
 Bapt. Pray you, temper 
 The Violence of your Paflion. 
 
 Math. In Extremes 
 Of this Condition, can it be in Man 
 To ufe a Moderation ? I am thrown 
 From a fleep Rock headlong into a Gulph 
 Of Mifery, and find myfelf pafl Hope, 
 In the fame Moment that I apprehend 
 That I am falling, and this, the Figure of 
 My Idol, few Hours fince, while fhe continued 
 In her Perfection, that was late a Mirror, 
 In which I faw miraculous Shapes of Duty, 
 Staid Manners, with all Excellency a Hufband 
 Could wifh in a chafte Wife, is on the fudden 
 Turn'd to a magical Glafs, and does prefent 
 Nothing but Horns and Horror. 
 
 Bapt* You may yet 
 (And 'tis the bell: Foundation,) build up Comfort 
 On your own Goodnefs. 
 
 Math. No, that hath undone me ; 
 For now I hold my Temperance a Sin 
 Worfe than Excefs, and what was Vice a Virtue. 
 Have I refus'd a Queen, and fuch a Queen 
 ( Whofe ravifhing Beauties at the firft Sight had tempted 
 A Hermit from his Beads, and chang'd his Prayers 
 To amorous Sonnets,) to preferve my Faith 
 Inviolate to thee, with the Hazard of 
 My Death with Torture, fince me could inflict 
 No lefs for my Contempt, and have I met 
 Such a Return from thee ? I will not curfe thee, 
 Nor for thy Falfehood rail againfl tbe Sex ; 
 'Tis poor, and common ; I'll only with wife Men, 
 Whifper unto myfelf, howe'er they feem ; 
 Nor prefent, nor pafl Times, nor the Age to come, 
 Hath heretofore, can now, or ever fhall 
 Produce one conftant Woman. 
 
 Vol. I. E
 
 66 THE PICTURE. 
 
 Bapt. This is more 
 Than the Satyrifts wrote againft 'cm. 
 
 Math. There's no Language 
 That can exprefs the Poifon of thefe Afpicks, 
 Thefe weeping Crocodiles, and all too little 
 That hath been faid againft 'em. But I'll mould 
 My Thoughts into another Form, and, if 
 She can outlive the Report of what I have done, 
 This Hand, when next me comes within my Reach, 
 Shall be her Executioner. 
 
 Enter Honoria. 
 
 Bapt. The Queen, Sir. 
 
 Hon. Wait our Command at Diftance ; Sir, you too 
 have 
 Free Liberty to depart. \ 
 
 Bapt. I know my Manners, 
 And thank you for the Favour. \Exlt Baptifta. 
 
 Hon. Have you taken 
 Good Reft in your new Lodgings ? I expedt now 
 Your refolute Anfwer; but advife maturely 
 Before I hear it. 
 
 Math. Let my Actions, Madam, 
 For no Words can dilate my Joy, in all 
 Vou can command, with Chearfulnefs to ferve you, 
 Afllire your Highnefs ; and in Sign of my 
 Submimon, and Contrition for my Error, 
 My Lips, that but the laft Night ihunn'd the Touch 
 Of yours as Poifon, taught Humility now, 
 Thus on your Foot, and that too great an Honour 
 For fuch an Undeferver, feal my Duty. 
 A cloudy Mift of Ignorance, equal to 
 Cimmerian Darknefs, would not let me fee then, 
 What now with Adoration and Winder, 
 With Reverence I look up to : But thofe Fogs 
 Difpers'd and fcatter'd by the powerful Beams 
 With which yourfelf, the Sun of all Perfection, 
 Vouchfafe to cure my Blindnefs, like a Suppliant 
 As low as I can kneel, I humbly beg 
 What you once pleas'd to tender.
 
 THE PICTURE, 67 
 
 Hon. This is more 
 Than I could hope ; what find you fo attractive 
 Upon my Face, in fo fhort Time to make 
 This fudden Metamorphofis ? Pray you, rife ; 
 I, for your late Neglect, thus fign your Pardon. 
 Aye, now you kifs like a Lover, and not as Brothers 
 Coldly falute their Sifters. 
 
 Math. I am turn'd 
 All Spirit and Fire. 
 
 Hon. Yet, to give fome Allay 
 To this hot Fervour, 'twere good to remember 
 The King, whofe Eyes and Ears are every where, 
 With the Danger too that follows, this dilcover'd. 
 
 Math. Danger ! A Bugbear, Madam ; let me ride once 
 Like Phaeton in the Chariot of your Favour, 
 And I contemn Jove's Thunder : Tho' the King 
 In our Embraces flood a Looker on, 
 His Hangmen too, with ftudied Cruelty, ready 
 To drag me from your Arms, it fhould not fright me 
 From the enjoying that, a (ingle Life is 
 Too poor a Price for : O, that now all Vigour 
 Of my Youth were recollected for an Hour, 
 That my Defire might meet with yours, and draw 
 The Envy of all Men in the Encounter 
 Upon my Head ! I mould but we lofe Time; 
 Be gracious, mighty Queen. 
 
 Hon. Paufe yet a little : 
 The Bounties of the King, and, what weighs more, 
 Your boafled Conftancy to your matchlefs Wife, 
 Should not foon be fhaken. 
 
 Math. The whole Fabric, 
 When I but look on you, is in a Moment 
 O'erturn'd and ruin'd, and, as Rivers lofe 
 Their Names, when they are fwallow'd by the Ocean, 
 In you alone all Faculties of my Soul 
 Are wholly taken up, my Wife and King 
 At the beft as Things forgotten. 
 
 Hon. Can this be ? 
 I have gain'd my End now. [Ajlde. 
 
 E 2
 
 63 THE PICTURE. 
 
 Math* Wherefore ftay you, Madam ? 
 
 Hon. In my Consideration, what a Nothing 
 Man's Conltancy is! 
 
 Math. Your Beauties make it fb 
 In me, iweet Lady. 
 
 Hon. And it is my Glory : 
 I could be cov now as you were, but I 
 Am of a gentler Temper ; howfoever, 
 And in a juft Return of what I have fuffer'd 
 In your Difdain, with the fame Meafure grant me 
 Equal Deliberation : I ere long 
 Will vifit you again, and when I next 
 Appear, as conquer 'd by it, Slave-like, wait 
 On my triumphant Beauty. [Exit Honoria. 
 
 Math. What a Change 
 Is here beyond my Fear ! but by thy Falfehood, 
 Sophia, not her Beauty, is it deny'd me 
 To fin but in my Wifhes. What a Frown 
 In Scorn, at her Departure, me threw on me ? 
 I am both Ways loft ; Storms of Contempt and Scorn 
 Are ready to break on me, and all Hope 
 Of Shelter doubtful : I can neither be 
 Difloyal, nor yet honefl ; I ftand guilty 
 On either Part ; at the worft, Death will end all, 
 And he mud be my Judge to right my Wrong, 
 Since I have lov'd too much, and liv'd too long. 
 
 [Exit Mathias. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Sophia fola, with a Book and a Note. 
 
 Soph. Nor Cuftom nor Example, nor vaft Numbers 
 Of fuch as do offend, make lefs the Sin. 
 For each particular Crime a ftrict Account 
 Will be exacted ; and that Comfort which 
 ThcDamn'd pretend, (Fellows in Mifery) 
 ^ Takes nothing from their Torments ; every one 
 Muitfuffer in himlelf the Meafure of
 
 THEPICTURE. 69 
 
 His Wickednefs. If fo, as I muft grant, 
 
 It being unrefutable in Reafon, 
 
 Howe'er my Lord offend, it is no Warrant 
 
 For me to walk in his forbidden Paths : 
 
 What Penance then can expiate my Guilt 
 
 For my Confent (tranfported then with Paflion) 
 
 To Wantonnefs ? The Wounds I give my Fame 
 
 Cannot recover his ; and, though I have fed 
 
 Thefe Courtiers with Promifes and Hopes, 
 
 I am yet in Fadt untainted ; and I trull 
 
 My Sorrow for it, with my Purity 
 
 And Love to Goodncfs for itfelf, made powerful, 
 
 Tho' all they have alleged prove true or falfe, 
 
 Will be fuch Exorcifms as fhall command 
 
 This Fury, Jealoufy, from me. What I have 
 
 Determin'd touching them, I am refolv'd 
 
 To put in Execution. Within there ! 
 
 Where are my noble Guefts ? 
 
 Enter Hilario, Corifca, with other Servants, 
 
 Hil. The elder, Madam, 
 Is drinking by himfelf to your Ladyfhip's Health 
 In Mufkadine and Eggs ; and, for a Rafher 
 To draw his Liquor down, he hath got a Pye 
 Of Marrow-bones, Potatoes and Eringos, 
 With many fuch Ingredients; and 'tis faid 
 He hath fent his Man in Poll to the next Town, 
 For a Pound of Ambergrife, and half a Peck 
 Of Fifties call'd Cantharides. 
 
 Cor if. The younger 
 Prunes up himfelf, as if this Night he were 
 To adt a Bridegroom's Part ; but to what Purpofe, 
 I am Ignorance itfelf. 
 
 Soph. Continue fo. 
 Let thofe Lodgings be prepar'd as this directs you, 
 
 [Gives a Paper. 
 And fail not in a Circumftance, as you 
 Refpeft my Favour. 
 
 3
 
 7 o THE PICTURE. 
 
 1 Serv. We have our Instructions. 
 
 2 Serv, And pun&ually will follow 'em. 
 
 [Exeunt Sewants, 
 
 Enter Ubaldo. 
 
 Hit. Madam, here comes 
 The Lord Ubaldo, 
 
 Ubal. Pretty one, there's Gold 
 To buy thee a new Gown ; and there's for thee : 
 Grow fat, and fit for Service. I am now, 
 As I mould be, at the Height, and able to 
 Beget a Giant. O my better Angel, 
 In this you (hew your Wifdom, when you pay 
 The Letcher in his own Coin ; lhall you fit puling, 
 Like a patient Grizzle, and be laugh'd at ? No, 
 This is a fair Revenge, lhall we to it ? 
 
 Soph. To what, Sir ? 
 
 Ubal. The Sport you promis'd. 
 
 Soph, Could it be done with Safety ? 
 
 UbaL I warrant you ! I am found as a Bell, a tough 
 Old Blade, and Steel to the Back, as you mall find mt 
 In the Trial on your Anvil. 
 
 Soph. So ; but how, Sir, 
 Shall I fatisfy your Friend, to whom, by Promife, 
 I am equally engag'd ? 
 
 Ubal. I mult confefs, 
 The more the merrier ; but, of all Men living, 
 Take Heed of him ; you may fafer run upon 
 The Mouth of a Cannon when it is unlading, 
 And come off colder. 
 
 Soph. How ! is he not wholefome ? 
 
 Ubal. Wholefome ! I'll tell you for your Good ; he is 
 A Spital of Difeafes, and indeed 
 More loathfome and infectious ; the Tub is 
 His weekly Bath : He hath not drank this feven Years, 
 Before he came to your Houfe, but Compofitions 
 Of Saflafras and Guaicum, and dry Mutton's 
 His daily Portion ; name what Scratch foevcr
 
 THE PICTURE. 71 
 
 Can be got by Women, and the Surgeons will refolvc 
 
 you, 
 At this Time or at that, Ricardo had it. 
 
 Soph, Blefs me from him. 
 
 Ubal. 'Tis a good Prayer, Lady. 
 It being a Degree unto the Pox 
 Only to mention him ; if my Tongue burn not, hang 
 
 me, 
 When I but name Ricardo* 
 
 Soph. Sir, this Caution 
 Alufl be rewarded. 
 
 Ubal. I hope I have marr'd his Market. 
 But when ? 
 
 Soph. Why, prefently ; follow my Woman, 
 She knows where to conduct you, and will iervc 
 To-night for a Page. Let the Waiftcoat I appointed, 
 With the Cambrick Shirt perfum'd, and the rich Cap, 
 Be brought into his Chamber. 
 
 Ubal. Excellent Lady ! 
 And a Caudle too in the Morning. 
 
 Corif. I will fit you. {Exeunt Ubaldo and Corifca. 
 
 Enter Ricardo. 
 
 Soph. So hot on the Scent ! Here comes the other 
 Beagle. 
 
 Ric. Take Purfe and all. 
 
 Hil. If this Company would come often, 
 I mould make a pretty Term on't. 
 
 Soph. For your Sake 
 I have put him off; he only begg'd a Kifs ; 
 I gave it, and fo parted. 
 
 Ric. I hope better, 
 He did not touch your Lip ? 
 
 Soph. Yes, I aflure you. 
 There was no Danger in it ? 
 
 Ric. No ! eat prefently 
 Thefe Lozenges, of forty Crowns an Ounce, 
 Or you are undone. 
 
 Soph. What is the Virtue of 'em ? 
 
 E 4
 
 72 THE PICTURE. 
 
 jR/V. They are Prefervativcs againft flinking Breath, 
 Rifing from rotten Lungs. 
 
 Soph, If fo, your Carriage 
 Of fuch dear Antidotes, in my Opinion, 
 May render yours fufpected. 
 
 Ric. Fie, no, I ufe 'em 
 When I talk with him, I mould be poifon'd elfe. 
 But I'll be free with you. He was once a Creature 
 It may be of God's making, but long fince 
 He is turn'd to a Druggift's Shop ; the Spring and Fall 
 Hold all the Year with him ; that he lives, he owes 
 To Art, not Nature ; ihe has giv'n him o'er. 
 He moves, like the Fairy King, on Screws and Wheels 
 Made by his Doctor's Recipes, and yet ftill 
 They are out of Joint, and every Day repairing : 
 He has a Regiment of Whores he keeps 
 At his own Charge in a Lazar-houfe : But the beft is, 
 There's not a Nofe among 'em. He's acquainted 
 With the Green Water ; and the Spitting Pill's 
 Familiar to him. In a frofty Morning 
 You may thrufl him in a Pottle-pot, his Bones 
 Rattle in his Skin, like Beans tofs'd in a Bladder. 
 If he but hear a Coach, the Fomentation, 
 The Friction with Fumigation cannot fave him 
 Trom the Chin-evil. In a Word, he is 
 Not one Difeafe, but all : Yet, being my Friend, 
 I will forbear his Character ; for I would not 
 Wrong him in your Opinion, 
 
 Soph. The beft is, 
 The Virtues you beftow on him to me, 
 Are Myfteries I know not : But, however, 
 I am at your Service. Sirrah, let it be your Care 
 T' unclothe the Gentleman, and with Speed : Delay 
 Takes from Delight. 
 
 Ric. Good, there's my Hat, Sword, Cloak 
 
 A Vengeance on thefe Buttons ; off with my Doublet, 
 I dare mow my Skin, in the Touch you will like it better; 
 Prithee cut my Codpiece-point, and for this Service, 
 When I leave them off, they are thine. 
 
 Hit. I take your Word, Sir,
 
 THE PICTURE. 73 
 
 Ric. Dear Lady, (lay not long. 
 
 Soph, I may come too foon, Sir. 
 
 Ric. No, no, I am ready now. 
 
 Hil. This is the Way, Sir. 
 
 \_Exeunt Hilario and Ricardo. 
 
 Soph. Iwas much to blame to credit their Reports 
 Touching my Lord, that fo traduce each other, 
 And with fuch virulent Malice, tho' I prefume 
 They are bad enough ; but I have ftudied for 'em 
 A Way for their Recovery. 
 
 [The Noife of clapping a Door, Ubaldo above 
 in his Shirt, 
 
 Ubal. What doit thou mean, Wench ? 
 Why doft thou fhut the Door upon me ? Ha ! 
 My Clothes are ta'en away too ! mall I ftarve here ? 
 Is this my Lodging ? I am fure the Lady talk'd of 
 A rich Cap, a perfum'd Shirt, and a Waiftcoat ; 
 But here is nothing but a little frefh Straw, 
 A Petticoat for a Coverlet, and that torn too ; 
 And an old Woman's Biggen for a Night-cap. 
 
 Enter Corifca to Sophia. 
 
 'Slight, 'tis a Prifon, or a Pig- fly e. Ha ! 
 
 The Windows grated with Iron, I cannot force 'em/ 
 
 And, if I leap down here, I break my Neck ; 
 
 I am betray'd. Rogues ! Villains ! let me out ; 
 
 I am a Lord, and that's no common Title, 
 
 And fhall I be us'd thus ? 
 
 Soph, Let him rave, he's fad ; 
 I'll parley with him at Leifure. 
 
 Ricardo entering zvith a great Noife below y as fallen. 
 
 Ric, Zoons, have you Trap-doors ? 
 Soph, The other Bird's i' th' Cage too, let him flutter. 
 Ric* Whither am I fall'n ? Into Hell ! 
 Ubal. Who makes that Noife there ? 
 Help me, if thou art a Friend.
 
 74 THE MCT V R E. 
 
 Ric. A Friend ! I am where 
 I cannot help myfelf ; let me fee thy Face. 
 
 Ubal. How, Ricardo ! prithee, throw me 
 Thy Cloak, if thou canft, to cover me, I am almoft 
 Frozen to Death. 
 
 Ric. My Cloak ! I have no Breeches ; 
 I am in my Shirt, as thou art ; and here's nothing 
 For myfelf but a Clown's caft-ofT Suit. 
 
 Ubal. We are both undone. 
 Prithee, roar a little Madam I 
 
 Enter Hilario in Ricardo'j Suit. 
 
 Ric. Lady of the Houfe ! 
 
 Ubal. Grooms of the Chamber ! 
 
 Ric. Gentlewomen ! Milkmaids ! 
 
 UbaL Shall we be murder'd ? 
 
 Soph. No, but foundly punifh'd, 
 To your Deferts. 
 
 Ric* You are not in earneft, Madam ? 
 
 Soph. Judge as you find, and feel it; and now hear 
 What I irrevocably purpofe to you. 
 Being receiv'd as Guefts into my Houfe, 
 And with all it afforded entertain'd, 
 You have forgot all hofpitable Duties, 
 And with the Defamation of my Lord, 
 Wrought on my Woman-weaknefs, in Revenge 
 Of his Injuries, as you fafhion'd 'em to me, 
 To yield my Honour to your lawlefs Lufl. 
 
 Hil. Mark that, poor Fellows. 
 
 Soph. And fo far you have 
 Tranfgrefs'd againflthe Dignity of Men, 
 Who ihould, bound to it by Virtue, Hill defend 
 Chafle Ladies' Honours, that it was your Trade 
 To make 'em infamous : But you are caught 
 In your own Toils, like luftful Beafts, and therefore 
 Hope not to find the Ufage of Men from me ; 
 Such Mercy you have forfeited, and (hall fuffer 
 Like the moll flaviih Women. 
 Ubal. How will you ufe us ?
 
 THE PICTURE. 75 
 
 Soph. Eafe and Excefs in Feeding made you wanton ; 
 A Pleurify of ill Blood you muft let out. 
 By Labour, and fpare Diet, 21 that Way got too, 
 Or perifh with Hunger. Reach him up that DiftafF 
 With the Flax upon it, tho' no Omphale, 
 Nor you a fecond Hercules, as I take it ; 
 As you fpin well at my Command, and pleafe me, 
 Your Wages, in thecoarfeit Bread and Water,- 
 Shall be proportionable. 
 
 Ubal. I willftarve firft. 
 
 Soph* That's as you pleafe. 
 
 Ric. What will become of me now ? 
 
 Soph. You mail have gentler Work ; I have oft ob- 
 ferv'd 
 You were proud to mew the Finenefs of your Hands, 
 And foftnefs of your Fingers ; you ihould reel well 
 What he fpins, if you give your Mind to it, as I'll force 
 
 you. 
 Deliver him his Materials. Now you know 
 Your Penance, fall to work, Hunger will teach you ; 
 And fo, as Slaves to your Luft, not me, I'll leave you. 
 
 [Exeunt Sophia and Servants. 
 
 Ubal. I fhall fpin a fine Thread out now. 
 
 Ric. I cannot look 
 On thefe Devices, but they put me in Mind 
 Of Rope-makers. 
 
 Hil. Fellow, think of thy Talk, 
 Forget fuch Vanities, my Livery there 
 Will ferve thee to work in. 
 
 Ric. Let me have my Clothes yet ; 
 I was bountiful to thee. 
 
 Hil. They are pad: your Wearing, 
 And mine, by Promife, as all thefe can witnefs ; 
 You have no Holidays coming, nor will I work 
 While thefe and this lafts ; and fo when you pleafe 
 You may fhut up your Shop Windows. 
 
 [Exit Hilario. 
 
 si That is, by Labour. M. M.
 
 76 THE PICTURE. 
 
 Ubal. I am faint, 
 And mull He down. 
 
 Ric. I am hungry too, and cold 
 
 curfed Women. 
 
 Ubal. This comes of our Whoring. 
 But let us reft as well as we can to-night, 
 But not o'er-flecp ourfelves, left we fall to-morrow. 
 
 [They draw the Curtains* 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter Ladiflaus, Honoria, Eubulus, Ferdinand, Acar. 
 the, Attendants, 
 
 Hon. Now you know all, Sir, with the Motives wh;* 
 
 1 fore'd him to my Lodging. 
 
 Ladif. I deli re 
 No more fuch Trials, Lady. 
 
 Hon. I prefume, Sir, 
 You do not doubt my Chaftity. 
 
 Ladif. I would not ; 
 But thefe are ftrange Inducements. 
 
 Rub. By no Means, Sir. 
 Why, tho' he were with Violence feiz'd upon, 
 And ftill detain'd ; the Man, Sir, being no Soldier, 
 Nor us'd to charge his Pike, when the Breach is openy 
 There was no Danger in't : You mull conceive, Sir, 
 Being religious, fhe chofe him for a Chaplain 
 To read old Homilies to her in the Dark ; 
 She's bound to it by her Canons. 
 
 Ladif. Still tormented 
 With thy Impertinence ? 
 
 Hon. By yourfelf, dear Sir, 
 I was ambitious only to overthrow 
 His boafted Conftancy in his Content, 
 But for Fadl I contemn him ; I was never 
 Unchafle in Thought ; I laboured to give Proof 
 What Power dwells in this Beauty you admire fo ; 
 And, when you fee how foon it hath transform'd him,
 
 THE PICTURE. 77 
 
 And with what Superftition he adores it, 
 Determine as you pleafe. 
 
 Ladif. I will look on 
 This Pageant ; but 
 
 Hon. When vou' have feen and heard, Sir, 
 The Paffages which I myfelf difcover'd, 
 And could have kept conceal'd, had I meant bafely, 
 Judge as you pleafe. 
 
 Ladif Well, I'll obferve the Iflue. 
 
 Eub. How had you took this, General, in your Wife ? 
 
 Ferd. As a ftrange Curiofity ; but Queens 
 Are privileg'd above Subjects, "and 'tis fit, Sir. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Enter Mathias and Baptifta. 
 
 Bapt. You are much alter'd, Sir, fince the laft Night 
 When the Queen left you, and look chearfully, 
 Your Dulnefs quite blown over. 
 
 Math. I have feen a Virion, 
 This Morning makes it good, and never was 
 In fuch Security as at this Inftant, 
 Fall what can fall : And when the Queen appears, 
 Whofe fhorteft Abfence now is tedious to me, 
 Obferve th' Encounter. 
 
 Enter Honoria to Mathias. (Ladiflaus, Eubulus, Fer- 
 dinand, Acanthe, with others enter above. 
 
 Bapt. She already is 
 Enter'd the Lifts. 
 
 Math. And I prepar'd to meet her. 
 
 Bapt. I know my Duty. 
 
 Hon. Not fo, you may ftay now 
 As a Witnefs of our Contract. 
 
 Bapt. I obey 
 In all Things, Madam.
 
 78 THE PICTURE. 
 
 Hon. Where's that Reverence, 
 Or rather fuperftitious Adoration, 
 Which, Captive-like, to my triumphant Beauty 
 You paid laft Night ? No humble Knee ? nor Sign 
 Of vafial Duty ? Sure this is the Foot 
 To whofe proud Cover, and then happy in it, 
 Your Lips were glu'd ; and that the Neck then offer'd 
 To witnefs your Subjection to be trod on : 
 Your certain Lofs of Life in the King's Anger 
 Was then too mean a Price to buy my Favour ; 
 And that falfe Glow-worm Fire of Conflancy 
 To your Wife, extingumVd by a greater Light 
 Shot from our Eyes ; and that, it may be, (being 
 Too glorious to be look'd on) hath depriv'd you 
 Of Speech and Motion : But I will take off 
 A little from the Splendor, and defcend 
 From my own Height, and in your Lownefs hear you 
 Plead as a Suppliant. 
 
 Math, I do remember 
 I once faw fuch a Woman. 
 
 Hon. How ! 
 
 Math. And then 
 She did appear a moft magnificent Queen ; 
 And what's more, virtuous, tho' fomewhat darkened 
 With Pride and Self-opinion. 
 
 Eub. Call you this Courrihip ? 
 
 Math. And me was happy in a royal Hufband, 
 Whom Envy could not tax, unlefs it were 
 For his too much Indulgence of her Humours. 
 
 Eub. Pray you, Sir, obferve that Touch, 'tis to the 
 Purpofe ; 
 I like the Play the better for't. 
 
 Math. And ihe liv'd 
 Worthy her Birth and Fortune ; you retain yet 
 Some Part of her angelical Form ; but when 
 Envy to the Beauty of another Woman 
 Inferior to hers, (one ihe never 
 Had feen, but in her Picture) had difpers'd 
 Infection thro' her Veins, and Loyalty
 
 THE PICTURE. 79 
 
 (Which a great Queen as flic was, mould have nourinYd) 
 Grew odious to her 
 
 Hon. I am Thunderftruck. 
 
 Math. And Lull:, in all the Bravery it could borrow 
 From Majefty, howe'er difguis'd, had took; 
 Sure Footing in the Kingdom of her Heart, 
 (Once the Throne of Chaftity,) how in a Moment 
 All that was gracious, great, and glorious in her, 
 And won upon all Hearts ; like feeming Shadows, 
 Wanting true Subftance, vaniih'd. 
 
 Hon. How his Reafons 
 Work on my Soul ! 
 
 Math. Retire into yourfelf. 
 Your own Strengths, Madam, flrongly mann'd with 
 
 Virtue ; 
 And be but as you were, and there's no Office 
 So bafe, beneath the Slavery that Men 
 Impofe on Beafts, but I will gladly bow to. 
 But as you play and juggle with a Stranger, 
 Varying your Shapes like Thetis, tho' the Beauties 
 Of all that are by Poets' Raptures painted 
 Were now in you united, you fhould pafs 
 Pitied by me perhaps, but not regarded* 
 
 Eub. If this take not, I am cheated. 
 
 Math. To flip once, 
 Is incident, * a andexcus'd by human Frailty ; 
 But to fall ever, damnable. We were both 
 Guilty, I grant, in tendering our Affection ; 
 But, as I hope you will do, I repented. 
 When we are grown up to Ripenefs, our Life is 
 Like to this Picture. Whilj we run 
 A conftant Race in Goodncfs, it retains 
 The juit Proportion. But the Journey being 
 Tedious, and fweet Temptations ia the Way, 
 That may in fome Degree divert us from 
 The Road that we put forth in, e'er we end 
 Our Pilgrimage, it may, like this, turn Yellow, 
 
 2 That is, is incident to human frailtv, and rendered cxcufable by 
 it. M. M.
 
 So THE PICTURE. 
 
 Or be with Blacknefs clouded. But when we 
 Find we have gone aftray, and labour to 
 Return unto our never-failing Guide, 
 Virtue ; Contrition (with unfeigned Tears, 
 The Spots of Vice waih'd off) will foon rcftore it 
 To the firft Purenefs. 
 
 Hon. I am difenchanted : 
 Mercy, O Mercy, Heavens ! [Kneels* 
 
 Ladif. I am ravifh'd with 
 What I have feen and heard. 
 
 Ferd. Let us defcend, and hear 
 The reft below. 
 
 Eub. This hath fall'n out beyond 
 My Expectation. [X^O' defend. 
 
 Hon. How have I wander'd 
 Out of the Tract of Piety ! and milled 
 By overweaning Pride, and Flattery 
 Of fawning Sycophants, (the Bane of Greatnefs) 
 Could never meet till now a Paffenger, 
 That in his Charity would fet me right, 
 Or ftay me in my Precipice to Ruin ! 
 How ill have I return'd your Goodnefs to me ! 
 
 Enter the King and others. 
 
 The Horror in my Thought of it turns me Marble. 
 But if it may be yet prevented : O Sir, 
 What can I do to ihew my Sorrow, or, 
 With what Brow afk your Pardon ? 
 
 Ladif. Pray you rife. 
 
 Hon. Never, till you forgive me, and receive 
 Unto your Love and Favour a chang'd Woman. 
 My State and Pride turn'd to Humility, henceforth 
 Shall wait on your Commands, and my Obedience 
 Steer'd only by your Will. 
 
 Ladif. And that will prove 
 A fecond and a better Marriage to me.- All is forgot. 
 
 Hon. Sir, I muft not rife yet, 
 Till with a free Confeffion of a Crime,
 
 THE PICTURE. 8 i 
 
 Unknown to you yet, a following Suit, 
 Which thus I beg, be granted. 
 
 Ladif. I melt with you. 
 *Tis pardon'd, and confirm'd thus. 
 
 Hon. Know then, Sir, 
 In Malice to this good Knight's Wife, 1 pracT^s'd 
 Vbaldo and Ricardo to corrupt her. 
 
 Bapt. Thence grew the Change of the Picture. 
 
 Hon. And how far 
 They have prevail'd I am ignorant. Now, if you, Sir, 
 For the Honour of this good Man, may be intreated 
 To travel thither, it being but a Day's Journey, 
 To fetch 'em off 
 
 Ladif. We will put on to-night. 
 
 Bapt. I, If you plcafe, your Harbinger. 
 
 Ladif. I thank you. 
 Let me embrace you in my Arms, your Service 
 Done on the Turk, compared with this, weighs nothing. 
 
 Math. I am Hill your humble Creature. 
 
 Ladif. My true Friend. 
 
 Ferd. And fo you are bound to hold him. 
 
 Eub. Such a Plant, 
 Imported to your Kingdom and here grafted 
 Would yield more Fruit, than all the idle Weeds 
 That fuck up your Rain of Favour. 
 
 Ladif. In my Will 
 I'll not be wanting. Prepare for our Journey. 
 In Act be my Honoria now, not Name, 
 And to all after Times preferve thy Fame. [Exeunt. 
 
 End of the Fourth M* 
 
 Vol. I.
 
 U THE PICTURE, 
 
 ACTV. SCENE I. 
 
 Sophia, Corifca, and Hilario. 
 
 
 
 Soph. A R E they then fo humble ? 
 
 Hil. XV Hunger and hard Labour 
 Have tan? d 'em, Madam ; at firft they bcllow'd 
 Like Stags ta'en in a Toil, and would not work 
 For Sullennefs, but when they found without it 
 There was no Eating, and that to flarve to Death 
 Was much againft their Stomachs, by Degrees, 
 Againft their Wills, they fell to it. 
 
 Corif. And now feed on 
 The little Pittance you allow, with Gladnefs. 
 
 Hil. I do remember that they ftopp'd their Nofes 
 At the Sight of Beef and Mutton, as coarfe feeding 
 For their fine Palates ; but now their Work being ended, 
 They leap at a Barley Cruft, and hold Cheefe parings, 
 With a Spoonful of pall'd Wine pour'd in their Water. 
 For Feftival-exceedings. 
 
 Corif. When I examine 
 My Spinfter's Work, he trembles like a Trentice, 
 And takes a Box on the Ear when I fpy Faults 
 And Botches in his Labour, as a Favour 
 From a curft Miftrefs. 
 
 Hil. The other too reels well 
 For his Time ; and if your Ladyfhip would pleafe 
 To fee 'em for your Sport, fince they want airing, 
 It would do well in my Judgment, you (hall hear 
 Such a hungry Dialogue from 'em. 
 
 Soph. But fuppofe, 
 When they are out of Prifon they Ihould grow 
 Rebellious ? 
 
 Hil. Never fear't ; I'll undertake 
 To lead 'em out by the Nofe with a coarfe Thread 
 Of the one's fpinning, and make the other reel after, 
 And without Grumbling; and when you are weary of 
 Their Company, as cafily return 'em.
 
 THE PICTURE. 83 
 
 Corif. Dear Madam, it will help to drive away 
 Your Melancholy. 
 
 Soph. Well, on this Aflbrance, 
 I am content ; bring 'em hither. 
 
 Hil. I will do it 
 In ftately Equipage. [Exit Hilario. 
 
 Soph. They have confefTed then 
 They were fet on by the Queen to taint me in 
 My Loyalty to my Lord ? 
 
 Corif. 'Twas the main Caufe 
 That brought 'em hither. 
 
 Soph. I am glad I know it ; 
 And as I have begun, before I end 
 I'll at the Height revenge it ; let us flep afide ; 
 They come, the Object's fo ridiculous, 
 In Spight of my fad Thoughts I cannot but 
 Lend a fore'd Smile to grace it. 
 
 Enter Hilario, Ubaldo fpinning, Ricardo reeling* 
 
 Hil. Come away, 
 Work as you go, and lofe no Time, 'tis precious, 
 You'll find it in your Commons. 
 
 Ric. Commons, call you it ! 
 The Word is proper ; I have graz'd fo long 
 Upon your Commons, I am almoft Itarv'd here. 
 
 Hil. Work harder, and they fhall be better'd, 
 
 Vbal Better'd? 
 Worfer they cannot be : Would I might lie 
 Like a Dog under her Table and ferve for a Footftool, 
 So I might have my Belly full of that 
 Her Iceland Cur refufes, 
 
 Hil. How do you like 
 Your Airing ? Is it not a Favour ? 
 
 Ric. Yes; 
 Jult fuch a one as you ufe to a Brace of Greyhounds, 
 When they are led out of their Kennels to fcumber ; 
 But our Cafe is ten Times harder, we have nothing 
 In our Bellies to be vented : If you will be 
 
 F 2
 
 84 THE PICTURE. 
 
 An honcft Yeoman Phewterer, 2 3 feed us firft, 
 And walk us after. 
 
 Hil. Yeoman Phewterer ! 
 Such another Word to your Governor, and you go 
 Supperlefs to Bed for't. 
 
 Ubal. Nay even as you pleafe. 
 The comfortable Names of Breakfaft, Dinner, 
 Collations, Supper, Beverage, are Words 
 Worn out of our Remembrance. 
 
 Ric. O for the Steam 
 Of Meat in a Cook's Shop. 
 
 Ubal. I am fo dry, 
 I have not Spittle enough to wet my Fingers 
 When I draw my Flax from my Diftaff. 
 
 Ric, Nor I Strength 
 To raife my Hand to the Top of my Reeler. Oh ! 
 I have the Cramp all over me. 
 
 Hil. What do you think 
 Were beft to apply to it ? A Cramp-flone, as I take it, 
 Were very ufeful. 
 
 Ric. Oh ! no more of Stones, 
 We have been us'd too long like Hawks already. 
 
 Ubal. We are not fo high in our Flefh now to need 
 ca fling, 
 We will come to an empty Fid. 
 
 Hil. Nav that you fhall not. 
 So ho, Birds, how the Eyaflas fcratch and fcramble ! 
 Take Heed of a Surfeit; do not ca ft your Gorges : 
 This is more than I have Commimon for ; be thankful. 
 
 Soph. Were all that ftudy the Abufe of Women 
 Us'd thus, the City would not fwarm with Cuckolds, 
 Nor fo many Tradefmen break. 
 
 Corif. Pray you appear now 
 And mark the Alteration. 
 
 Hil. To your Work, 
 My Lady is in Prefence ; fhew your Duties 
 Exceeding well. 
 
 Soph. How do your Scholars profit ? 
 
 23 A Pl.cwterer, or Fewterer, means a Dog-kccper. Jf. .1/.
 
 THE PICTURE. 8$ 
 
 Hil. Hold up your Heads demurely. Prettily 
 For young Beginners. 
 
 Cor if. And will do well in Time 
 If they be kept in Awe. 
 
 Ric. In Awe ! I am fure 
 I quake like an Aipen Leaf. 
 
 JJbal. No Mercy, Lady ? 
 
 Ric. Nor Intermiffion r 
 
 Soph. Let me fee your Work. 
 Fie upon't what a Thread's here ! a poor Cobler's Wife 
 Would make a finer tofow a Clown's rent Startup; ** 
 And here you reel as you were drunk. 
 
 Ric. I am fure it is not with Wine. 
 
 Soph. O, take Heed of Wine ; 
 Cold Water is far better for your Healths, 
 Of which I am very tender ; you had foul Bodies, 
 And muft continue in this phyfical Diet, 
 Till the Caufe of your Difeafe be ta'en away, 
 For fear of a Relapfe, and that is dangerous; 
 Yet I hope already that you are in fome 
 Degree recovered, and that Way to refolve me 
 Anfwer me truly ; nay, what I propound 
 Concerns both, nearer ; what would you now give, 
 If your Means were in your Hands, to lie all Night 
 With a frefti and handfome Lady ? 
 
 Ubal. How ! a Lady ? 
 
 ! I am pafs'd it, Hunger with her Razor 
 Hath made me an Eunuch. 
 
 Ric. For a Mefs of Porridge, 
 Well fopp'd with a Bunch of Radifh and a Carrot, 
 
 1 would fell my Barony ; but for Women, oh ! 
 No more of Women, (not a Doit for a Doxy) 
 After this hungry Voyage. 
 
 4 A Startup is PartofaMan'sDrefs; the fameExprefiion occurs in 
 Fletcher's Faithful Shepbcrdefi. Mr. Percy \\v the Glotfary annex- 
 ed to his ancient Ballads, fays it was a Bulkin laced before, aad 
 worn by Rufticks. M. M. 
 
 F3
 
 86 THE PICTURE. 
 
 Soph. Thefe are truly 
 Good Symptoms ; let them not venture too much in the" 
 
 Air 
 Till they are weaker. 
 
 Ric. This is Tyranny. 
 
 Ubal. Scorn upon Scorn. 
 
 Soph. You were fo 
 In your malicious Intents to mc, 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 And therefore 'tis but Juflice What's the Bufinefs ? 
 
 Serv. My Lord's great Friend, Signior BaptiJIa, 
 Madam, 
 Is newly lighted from his Horfe, with certain 
 Aflurance of my Lord's Arrival. 
 
 Soph. How ! 
 And (land I trifling here ? Hence with the Mungrels 
 To their feveral Kennels, there let them howl in private, 
 I'll be no farther troubled. [Exeunt Sophia and Servant. 
 
 Ubal. O that ever 
 I faw this Fury ! 
 
 Ric. Or look'd on a Woman 
 But as a Prodigy in Nature ! 
 
 Hil. Silence, 
 No more of this. 
 
 Corif. Methinks you have no Caufe 
 To repent your being here. 
 
 Hil. Have you not learnt, 
 When your 'States are fpent, your feveral Trades to live 
 
 by, 
 
 And never charge the Hofpital ? 
 
 Corif. Work but tightly, 
 And we will not ufe a Dim-clout in the Houfe 
 But of your fpinning. 
 
 Ubal. O ! I would this Hemp 
 Were turn'd to a Halter. 
 
 Hil. Will you march ? 
 
 Ric. A foft one, 
 Good General, I befeech you.
 
 THE PICTURE. 87 
 
 Ubal. I can hardly 
 Draw my Legs after me. 
 
 Hil. For a Crutch you may ufe 
 Your Diitaff, a good Wit makes Ufe of all Things. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Sophia and Baptifta. 
 
 Soph, Was he jealous of me ? 
 
 Bapt. There's no perfect Love 
 Without fome Touch oft, Madam. 
 
 Soph, And my Picture, 
 Made by your dcv'lifh Art, a Spy upon 
 My Actions ? I never fat to be drawn, 
 Nor had you, Sir, Commiflion for't. 
 
 Bapt. Excufe me ; at his earneit Suit I did it. 
 
 Soph. Very good : 
 Was I grown lb cheap in his Opinion of me ? 
 
 Bapu The profperous Events that crown'd his For- 
 tunes 
 May qualify the Offence. 
 
 Soph, Good ! the Event's *5 
 The Sanctuary Fools and Madmen fly to, 
 When their rafli and defperate Undertakings thrive 
 
 well ; 
 But good and wife Men are directed by 
 Grave Counfels, and with fuch Deliberation 
 Proceed in their Affairs, that Chance has nothing 
 To do with 'em. Howfoe'er, take the Pains, Sir, 
 To meet the Honour (in the King and Queen's 
 Approaches to my Houfe,) that breaks upon me, 
 I will expect them with my beft of Care. 
 
 25 C3" Sophia. Rood the Events. 
 
 This is the Reading of all the old Editions, and is followed by Mr. 
 Dodfley ; but I think we ought to read 
 
 Soph. Good ! the Event's, &e. 
 
 F 4
 
 88 THE PICTURE. 
 
 Bapt. To entertain fuch royal Guefts. 
 
 Soph. I know it. [Exit Baptifla. 
 
 Leave that to me, Sir. What mould move the Queen, 
 So given to Eafe and Pleafure, as Fame fpeaks her, 
 To fuch a Journey ? Or work on my Lord 
 To doubt my Loyalty ? Nay, more, to take 
 For the Refolution of his Fears, a Courfe 
 That is by holy Writ deny'd a Chriftian ? 
 'Twas impious in him, and perhaps the Welcome 
 He hopes in my Embraces may deceive 
 His Expectation. The Trumpets fpeak 
 The King's Arrival. Help a Woman's Wit now, 
 To make him know his Fault and my juit Anger. 
 
 [Exit Sophia. 
 
 SCENE the loft. 
 
 Loud Mufick. Enter Ladiflaus, Mathias, Eubulus, Ho- 
 noria, Ferdinand, Baptifla, Acanthe, with Attendants, 
 
 Eub. Your Majefty mufl be weary. 
 
 Hon. No, my Lord, 
 A willing Mind makes a hard Journey eafy. 
 
 Math. Not Jove) attended on bv Hermes, was 
 More welcome to the Cottage of Philemon 
 And his poor Baucis than your gracious Self, 
 Your matchlefs Queen, and all your royal Train 
 Are to your Servant and his Wife, 
 
 Ladif. Where is me ? 
 
 Hon. I long to fee her as my now loved Rival. 
 
 Eub. And I to have a Smack at her ; ('tis a Cordial 
 To an oid Man, better than Sack and a Toaft 
 ^Before he goes to Supper.) 
 
 Math. Ha ! is my Houfe turn'd 
 To a Wildernefs ? Nor Wife nor Servants ready 
 With all Rites due to Majefty, to receive 
 Such unexpected BlefHngs ? you aflur'd me 
 Of better Preparation ; hath not 
 Th' Excefs of Joy tranfported her beyond 
 Her Understanding ? 

 
 THE PICTURE. S 9 
 
 Bapt. I now parted from her 
 And gave her your Directions. 
 
 Math. How fhall I beg 
 Your Majefties' Patience ? Sure my (Family's drunk, 
 Or by fome Witch, in Envy of my Glory, 
 A dead Sleep thrown upon 'em. 
 
 Enter Hilario and Servants. 
 
 i Serv. Sir. 
 
 Math. But that 
 The facred Piefence of the King forbids it, 
 My Sword mould make a MafTacre among you. 
 Where is your Miflrefs ? 
 
 Hil. Firft, you are welcome home, Sir ; 
 Then know, fhe fays file's lick, Sir. There's no Notice 
 Taken of my Bravery. 
 
 Math. Sick at fuch a Time ! 
 It cannot be ; tho' me were on her Death-bed, 
 And her Spirit even now departed, here ftandthey 
 Could call it back again, and in this Honour 
 Give her a fecond Being : Bring me to her ; 
 I know not what to urge, or how to redeem 
 This Mortgage of her Manners. 
 
 [Exeunt Mathias and Hilario. 
 
 Eub. There's no Climate 
 In the World, I think, where one Jade's Trick or other 
 Reigns not in Women. 
 
 Ferd. You were ever bitter 
 Againft the Sex. 
 
 Ladlf. This is very ftrange, 
 
 Hon. Mean Women 
 Have their Faults as well as Queens. 
 
 Ladif. O fhe appears now. 
 
 Enter Mathias and Sophia. 
 
 Math. The Injury that you conceive I have done yj; 
 Difpute hereafter, and in your Perverfenefs 
 Wrong not yourfelf and me.
 
 9 o THE PICTURE, 
 
 Soph, I am pafs'd my Childhood, 
 And need no Tutor. 
 
 Math. This is the great King, 
 To whom I am engag'd till Death for all 
 I (land poffefs'd of. 
 
 Soph. My humble Roof is proud, Sir, 
 To be the Canopy of fo much Greatnefs 
 Set off with Goodnefs. 
 
 Ladif. My own Praifes flying 
 In fuch pure Air as your fweet Breath, fair Lady. 
 Cannot but pleafe me. 
 
 Math. This is the Queen of Queens, 
 In her Magnificence to me. 
 
 Soph. In my Duty 
 I kifs her Highnefs' Rbe; 
 
 Hon. You (loop too low 
 To her whofe Lips would meet with yours. 
 
 Soph. Howe'er 
 It may appear prepoft'rous in Women 
 So to encounter, 'tis your Pleafure, Madam, 
 And not my proud Ambition Do you hear, Sir, 
 Without a magical Picture, in the Touch 
 I find your Print of clofe and wanton Kifles 
 On the Queen's Lips. 
 
 Math. Upon your Life be filent. 
 And now falute thefe Lords. 
 
 Soph. Since you'll have me, 
 You fhall fee, I am experienced at the Game, 
 And can play it tightly. You are a brave Man, Sii . 
 And do deferve a free and hearty Welcome. 
 Be this the Prologue to it. 
 
 Rub. An old Man's Turn 
 Is ever laft in Kifling. I have Lips too, 
 Howe'er cold ones, Madam. 
 
 Soph. I will warm 'em 
 With the Fire of mine. 
 
 Eub. And fo me has, I thank you ; 
 I fhall fleep the better all Night for't. 
 
 Math. You exprefs 
 The Boldnefs of a wanton Courtezan,
 
 THE PICTURE. 91 
 
 And not a Matron's Modefty ; take up, 
 Or you are difgrac'd for ever. 
 
 Soph. How ! with luffing 
 Feelingly as you taught me ? Would you have me 
 Turn my Cheek to 'cm, as proud Ladies ufe 
 To their Inferiors, as if they intended 
 Some Bufinefs mould be whifper'd in their Ear, 
 And not a Salutation ? What I do, 
 I will do freely ; now I am in the Humour, 
 I'll fly at all : Are there any more ? 
 
 Math. Forbear, 
 Or you will raife my Anger to a Height 
 That will defcend in Fury. 
 
 Soph. Why ? You know 
 How to refolve yourfelf what my Intents are, 
 By the Help of Mephoftophilos, and your Picture. 
 Pray you, look upon't again. I humbly thank 
 The Queen's great Care of me while you were abfent. 
 She knew how tedious 'twas for a young Wife, 
 And being for that Time a Kind of Widow, 
 To pafs away her melancholy Hours 
 Without good Company, and in Chanty therefore 
 Provided for me ; out of her own Store 
 She cull'd the Lords Ubaldo and Rkardo, 
 Two principal Courtiers for Ladies' Service, 
 To do me all good Offices ; and as fuch 
 Employ'd by her, I hope I have receiv'd 
 And entertain'd 'em ; nor mail they depart 
 Without the Effect arifing from the Caufe 
 That brought 'em hither. 
 
 Math. Thoudoftbelyethyfelf: 
 I know that in my Abfence thou wert honeft, 
 However now turn'd Monfter. 
 
 Soph. The Truth is 
 We did not deal like you, in Speculations 
 On cheating Pictures ; we knew Shadows were 
 No Subftances, and actual Performance 
 The bell AfTurance. I will bring 'em hither, 
 To make good in this Prefence fo much for me. 
 Some Minutes Space I beg your Majeures' Pardon.-
 
 92 T H E P I C T U R E. 
 
 You arc mov'd ; now champ upon this Bit a little, 
 Anon you ihall have another. Wait me, Hilar io. 
 
 [Exeunt Sophia and hlihn \ 
 
 Ladif. How now ? turn'd Statue, Sir ? 
 
 Math. Fly, and fly quickly, 
 From this curfed Habitation, or this Gorgon 
 Will make you all as I am. In her Tongue 
 Millions of Adders hifs, and every Hair 
 Upon her wicked Head a Snake more dreadful 
 Than that Tifiphon threw on Athamas y 
 Which in his Madnefs forc'd him to difmember 
 His proper IfTue. O that ever I 
 Repos'd my Truft in Magick, or believ'd j 
 Impoffibilities ! or that Charms had Power 
 To fink and fearch into the bottomlefs Hell 
 Of a falfe Woman's Heart ! 
 
 Eub. Thefe are the Fruits 
 Of Marriage ; an old Batchelor as I am, 
 And, what's more, will continue fo, is not troubled 
 With thefe fine Fagaries. 
 
 Ferd. Till you are refolv'd, t6 Sir, 
 Forfake not Hope. 
 
 Bapt. Upon my Life, this is 
 Difiimulation. 
 
 Ladif. And it fuits not with 
 Your Fortitude and Wifdom, to be thus 
 Tranfported with your Paffion. 
 
 Hon. You were once 
 Deceiv'd in me, Sir, as I was in you ; 
 Yet the Deceit pleas'd both. 
 
 Math. She hath confefs'd all. 
 What further Proof ihould I aik ? 
 
 Hon. Yet remember 
 The Diftance that is interpos'd*between 
 A Woman's Tongue and her Heart, and you muft grant 
 You build upon no Certainties. 
 
 *6 Rrfolvtd means here convinced. M. M.
 
 THE PICTURE. 95 
 
 Enter Sophia, Corifca, Hilario, Ubaldo, and Ricardo, 
 
 as before. 
 
 Eub. What have we here ? 
 
 Soph. You mult come on, and mew yourfelves. 
 
 UbaL The King ! 
 
 Ric. And Queen too ! Would I were as far under the 
 Earth 
 As I am above it. 
 
 UbaL Some Poet will 
 From this Relation, or in Verfe or Profe, 
 Or both together blended, render us 
 Ridiculous to all Ages. 
 
 Ladif. I remember 
 This Face, when it was in a better Plight ; 
 Are not you Ricardo t 
 
 Hon. And this Thing, I take it, 
 Was once Ubaldo. 
 
 UbaL I am now I know not what. 
 
 Ric. We thank your Majefty for employing us 
 To this fubtle Circe. 
 
 Eub. How, my Lord, turn'd Spinfter ! 
 Do you work by the Day, or by the Great ? 
 
 Ferd. Is your Theorbo 
 Turn'd to a DiftafT, Signior ? and your Voice* 
 With which you chanted Room for a lujiy Gallant, 
 Tun'd to the Note of Lacryma? ? 
 
 Eub. Prithee tell me, 
 For I know thou art free, how often, and to the Purpofe, 
 Have you been merry with this Lady ? 
 
 Ric. Never, never. 
 
 Ladif. Howfoever you mould fay fo, for your Credit, 
 Being the only Court Bull. 
 
 UbaL O that ever 
 I faw this kicking Heifer ! 
 
 Soph. You fee, Madam, 
 How I have cur'd your Servants, and what Favours 
 They with their rampant Valour have won from me. 
 You may, as they are phyfick'd, I prefume,
 
 94 THEPICTURE. 
 
 Truft a fair Virgin with 'em ; they have learn'd 
 Their feveral Trades to live by, and paid nothing 
 But Cold and Hunger for 'em, and may now 
 Set up for themfelves, for here I give 'em over. 
 And now to you, Sir, why do you not again 
 Perufe your Pidture, and take the Advice 
 Of your learned Confort ? Thefe are the Men, or none, 
 That made you, as the Italians fay, a Beco. 
 
 Math, I know not which Way to entreat your Par- 
 don, 
 Nor am I worthy of it, my Sophia. 
 My belt Sophia, here before the King, 
 The Queen, thefe Lords, and all the Lookers on, 
 1 do renounce my. Error, and embrace you, 
 As the great Example to all After-times, 
 For fuch as would die chafte and noble Wives, 
 With Reverence to imitate* 
 
 Soph. Not fo, Sir. 
 I yet hold off. However I have purg'd 
 My doubted Innocence, the foul Afperfions, 
 In your unmanly Doubts caft on my Honour, 
 Cannot fo foon be wafh'd off. 
 Rub. Shall we have 
 
 More Jiggobobs yet ? 
 
 Soph. When you went to the Wars 
 
 I fet no Spy upon you, to obferve 
 
 Which Way you wander 'd, tho' our Sex by Nature 
 
 Is fubjed: to- Sufpicions and Fears ; 
 
 My Confidence in your Loyalty freed me from 'em. 
 
 But, to deal as you did 'gainft your Religion, 
 
 With this Enchanter to furvey my Actions, 
 
 Was more than Woman's Weaknefs ; therefore know, 
 
 And 'tis my Boon unto the King, I do 
 
 Defire a Separation from your Bed ; 
 
 For I will fpend the Remnant of my Life 
 
 In Prayer and Meditation. 
 Math. O take Pity 
 
 Upon my weak Condition, or I am 
 
 More wretched in your Innocence, than if 
 
 I had found you guilty. Have you fhewn a Jewel
 
 THE PICTURE, 95 
 
 Out of the Cabinet of your rich Mind 
 To lock it up again ? She turns away. 
 Will none fpeak for me ? Shame and Sin hath robb'd 
 
 me 
 Of the Ufe of my Tongue. 
 
 Ladif Since you have conquer'd, Madam, 
 You wrong the Glory of your Victory 
 If you ufe it not with Mercy. 
 
 Ferd, Any Penance 
 You pleafe to impofe upon him, I dare warrant 
 He will gladly fuffer. 
 
 Eub. Have I liv'd to fee 
 But one good Woman, and mall we for a Trifle 
 Have her turn Nun ? I will firft pull down the Cloyfter. 
 To the old Sport again, with a good Luck to you : 
 'Tis not alone enough that you are good, 
 We muft have fome of the Breed of you : Will you 
 
 deftroy 
 The Kind, and Race of Goodnefs ? I am converted. 
 And afk your Pardon, Madam, for my ill Opinion 
 Againfl the Sex ; and mew me but two fuch more, 
 I'll marry yet, and love 'em. 
 
 Hon, She that yet 
 Ne'er knew what 'twas to bend but to the King, 
 Thus begs Remimon for him. 
 
 Soph. O dear Madam, 
 Wrong not your Greatnefs fo. 
 
 Omnes. We all are Suitors. 
 
 Vbal. I do deferve to be heard among the reft. 
 
 Ru\ And we have fufTer'd for it. 
 
 Soph. I perceive 
 There's no Refiitance : But fuppofe I pardon 
 What's paft, who can fecure me he'll be free 
 From Jealoufy hereafter ? 
 
 Math, I will be 
 My own Security : Go, ride where you pleafe ; 
 Feaft, revel, banquet, and make Choice with whom ; 
 I'll fet no Watch upon you ; and, for Proof of it, 
 Thiscurfed Picture I furrender up 
 To the confuming Fire.
 
 9 6 THE PICTURE. 
 
 Bapt. As I abjure 
 The Practice of my Art. 
 
 Soph. Upon thefe Terms 
 lam reconcil'd; and for thefe that have paid 
 The Price of their Folly, I defire your Mercy. 
 
 Ladlf. At your Requeft they have it. 
 
 Ubal. Hang all Trades now. 
 
 Ric, I will find a new one, and that is to live honefL 
 
 Hil, Thefe are my Fees. 
 
 UbaL Pray you, take 'em with a Mifchief. 
 
 Ladif. So, all ends in Peace now. 
 And, to all married Men be this a Caution, 
 Which they ihould duly tender as their Life, 
 Neither to doat too much, nor doubt a Wife. 
 
 [Exeunt Omnes* 
 
 The Reader will find fome judicious Remarks on this excel- 
 lent Play, in the Eflay prefixed to this Edition. M. M. 
 
 End of The Picture.
 
 THE 
 
 VIRGIN-MARTYR, 
 
 T R A G E D Y. 
 
 Acted in the Year 163 1, by His Majesty's 
 Servants, with great Applaufe, 
 
 WRITTEN BY 
 
 PHILLIP MASSINGER, 
 
 AND 
 
 THOMAS DECKER* 
 Vol. I. G
 
 Dramatis Perfonae. 
 D.oclesian, , Em 5 of RoME> 
 
 MaxiMinus, J r 
 
 A King of Pwtus. 
 
 A King of Epire. 
 
 A King of Macedon. 
 
 Safritius, Governor of Gefarea. 
 
 Theophilus, a zealous Perfecutor of the Chriftians. 
 
 Sempronius, Captain of Sapritius's Guards. 
 
 Antoninus, Son to Sapritius. 
 
 Macrinus, Friend to Antoninus. 
 
 Harpax, an Evil Spirit, following Theophilus in the 
 
 Shape of a Secretary. 
 Artemia, Daughter to Dioclesian. 
 
 Caliste, J Daughters to Theophilus. 
 Christeta, J 
 
 Dorothea, the Virgin Martyr. 
 
 Angelo, a Good Spirit, ferving Dorothea in the Ha- 
 bit of a Page. 
 A British Slave. 
 
 Hercius, a Whoremafter, 1 c -^ 
 
 c t^ i i r Servants to Dorothea, 
 
 Spungius, a Drunkard, J 
 
 A Prieft to Jupiter. 
 
 Officers and Executioners.
 
 THE 
 
 VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 A C T I. S C E N E I. 
 
 Enter Theophilus and Harpax. 
 
 Theophilus. 1 ; 
 
 GO M E to Qefarea to-night ? 
 Harpax, Moll true, Sir. 
 
 Theoph. The Emperor in Perfon ? 
 
 Harp. Do I live > 
 
 Theoph. 'Tis wond'rous ftrange ! The Marches of 
 great Princes, 
 Like to the Motions of prodigious Meteors, 
 Are Step by Step obferv'd ; and loud-tongu'd Fame 
 The Harbinger to prepare their Entertainment : 
 And, were it poffible fo great an Army, 
 Tho'cover'd with the Night, could be fo near, 
 The Governor cannot be fo unfriended 
 Among the many that attend his Perfon, 
 But, bv fome fecret Means, he mould have Notice 
 Of C<ffar's Purpofe ; in this then excufe me 
 If I appear incredulous: 
 
 C^T * This Tragedy was written jointly by Majfinver and Decker, 
 and is far inferiorto thofe of Majfingerh own Compofition. Decker was 
 cotemporary \\\x\\ Ben Jobttj'on inthe Reign ot King James I. andagreat 
 Contender for the Bays. He wrote eight entire Plays himfelf, and 
 was concerned in five more ; but the latter vaftly exceed the former : 
 And this, in Point of Merit, is fuperior to any. 
 
 G 2,
 
 loo THE VIRGIN-M ARTYL 
 
 Harp. At your Pleafure. 
 
 Theopb. Yet, when I call to Mind you never fail'd mc 
 In Things more difficult ; but have difcover'd 
 Deeds that were done thoufand Leagues diftant from 
 
 me, 
 When neither Woods, nor Caves, nor fecret Vaults, 
 No, nor the Power they ferve, * could keep thefe Chris- 
 tians 
 Or from my Reach or Puniihment, but thy Magick 
 Still laid them open ; I begin again 
 To be as confident as heretofore. 
 It is not poffible thy powerful Art 
 Should meet a Check, or fail. 
 
 Enter a Pritfi with the Image of Jupiter, Califte and 
 Chrifieta. 
 
 Harp^Lo&k on the Veftals, 
 The holy Pledges that the Gods have giv'n you, 
 Your chafte, fair Daughters. Wer't not to upbraid 
 A Service to a Mafter not unthankful, 
 I could fay, thefe in Spite of your Prevention, 
 Seduc'd by an imagin'd Faith, not Reafon, 
 (Which is the Strength of Nature) quite forfaking 
 The Gentile Gods, had yielded up themfelves 
 To this new-found Religion. This I crofs'd, 
 Difcover'd their Intentions, taught you to ufe 
 With gentle Words and mild Perfuafions, 
 The Pow'r and the Authority of a Father, 
 Set off with cruel Threats, and fo reclaim'd them. 
 And, whereas they with Torments ihould have dy'd, 
 
 * Could keep thefe Chrifliam 
 Or from my Reach or Punifbment, 
 
 The Plot of this Play is founded on the tenth and laft general Per- 
 fecution of the Chriftians, which broke out in the nineteenth Year of 
 Dioclefiatis Reign, and raged ten whole Years, with a Fury hardly 
 t be exprefied ; the Chriftians being every where, without Diilinc- 
 tion of Sex, Age, or Condition, dragged to Execution, and tortured 
 with the mod exquiiite Torments that Rage, Cruelty, and Hatred 
 could invent.
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 101 
 
 (Hell's Furies to me, had they undergone it.) [A/ide. 
 They are now Vot'ries in great Jupiter's Temple, 
 And, by his Prieft inftrudted, grown familiar 
 With all the Myft'ries, nay, the moft abftrufe ones, 
 Belonging to his Deity. 
 
 Theoph. 'Twas a Benefit, 
 For which I ever owe you. Hail, Jove's, Flamen ! 
 Have thefe my Daughters reconcil'd themielves, 
 Abandoning for ever the Chriitian Way, 
 To your Opinion ? 
 
 Prieji. And are conftant to it : 
 They teach their Teachers with their Depth of Judge- 
 ment, 
 And are with Arguments able to convert 
 The Enemies to our Gods, and anfwer all 
 They can object againfl us. 
 
 Theoph. My dear Daughters ! 
 
 Cat. We dare difpute againfl this ncw-fprung Sect, 
 In private or in publick. 
 
 Harp. My beft Lady, 
 Perfevere 2 in it. 
 
 Chrif. And what we maintain, 
 We will feal with our Bloods. 
 
 Harp. Brave Refolution ! 
 I e'en grow fat to fee my Labours profper. 
 
 Tbeoph. I young again To your Devotions. 
 
 Harp. Do 
 My Prayers be prefent with you. 
 
 [Exeunt Prieft and Daughters. 
 
 Theoph. O my Harpax ! 
 Thou Engine of my Wifhes, thou that fteeleft 
 My bloody Refolutions ; thou that arm'ft 
 My Eyes 'gainft womanifh Tears and foft Companion, 
 Inftrudiing me without a Sigh to look on 
 Babes torn by Violence from their Mother's Bread, 
 To feed the Fire, and with them make one Flame : 
 
 * Perfevere. All our ancient Writers generally lay the Accent oa 
 the fecond Syllable of this Word. M. M. 
 
 g 3
 
 ioz THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Old Men, as BeaSts, in Beads' Skins torn by Dogs : 
 Virgins and Matrons tire the Executioners ; 
 Yet I, unfatisfied, think their Torments eafy. 
 
 Harp. And in that, juSt, not cruel. 
 
 Tbeoph. Were all Sceptres 
 That grace the Hands or Kings, made into one, J 
 And offer'd me, all Crowns laid at my Feet, 
 I would contemn them all, thus fpit at them ; 
 So I to all Posterities might be call'd 
 The Strongest Champion of the Pagan Gods, 
 And rooter out of Christians. 
 
 Harp. Oh, mine own, 
 My own dear Lord ! to further this great Work 
 I ever live thy Slave. 
 
 Enter Sapritius and Sempronius. 
 
 .Theoph. No more the Governor. 
 
 Sap. Keep the Ports clofe, and let the Guards be dou- 
 bl'd; 
 Difarm the Christians, call it Death in any 
 To wear a Sword, or in his Houfe to have one. 
 
 Semp. I Shall be careful, Sir. 
 
 Sap. 'Twill well become you. 
 Such as refufe to offer Sacrifice 
 To any. of our Gods, put to the Torture. 
 Grub up this growing Mifchief by the Roots ; 
 And know, when we are merciful to them, 
 .We to ourfelves are cruel. 
 
 Semp. You pour Oil 
 On Fire that burns already at the Height, 
 I know the Emp'ror's Edid: and my Charge ; 
 And they Shall find no Favour. 
 
 Tbeoph. My good Lord, 
 This Care is timely for the Entertainment 
 Of our great MaSter, who this Night in Perfon 
 Comes here to thank you. 
 
 Sap. Who ! the Emperor ? 
 
 Harp. To clear your Doubts, he does return in Tri- 
 umph,
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 103 
 
 Kings lackeying by his triumphant Chariot ; 
 
 And in this glorious Victory, my Lord, 
 
 You have an ample Share : For know, your Son, 
 
 The ne'er-enough commended Antoninus, 
 
 So well hath fleih'd his maiden Sword, and dy'd 
 
 His Snowy Plumes fo deep in Enemies Blood 
 
 That, befides publick Grace beyond his Hopes,s 
 
 There are Rewards propounded. 
 
 Sap. I would know 
 No Mean in thine, could this be true. 
 
 Harp. My Head anfwer the Forfeit. 
 
 Sap, Of his Vidtory 
 There was fome Rumour ; but it was allured, 
 The Army pafs'd a full Day's Journey higher 
 Into the Country. 
 
 Harp. It was fo determined : 
 But, for the further Honour of your Son, 
 And to obferve the Government of the City, 
 And with what Rigour or remils Indulgence 
 The Chriflians are purfu'd, he makes his Stay here ; 
 For Proof, his Trumpets fpeak his near Arrival. 
 
 [Trumpets a- far off. 
 
 Sap. Hafte, good Sempronius ! draw up our Guards, 
 And with all ceremonious Pomp receive 
 The conqu'ring Army. Let our Garrifon fpeak 
 Their Welcome in loud Shouts ! the City mew 
 Her State and Wealth. 
 
 Simp. I'm gone. [Exit Sempronius. 
 
 Sap. O, I am ravifli'd 
 With this great Honour ! cherim, good Tbeophilus, 
 This knowing Scholar ; fend your fair Daughters ; 
 I will prefent them to the Emperor, 
 And in their fweet Converiion, as a Mirror, 
 Exprefs your Zeal and Duty. [A LeJJbn of Cornets. 
 
 Theoph. Fetch them, good Harpax ! 
 
 G 4
 
 io 4 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 A Guard, brought in by Sempronius'5 Soldiers, leading in 
 three Kings, bound; Antoninus <:*/Macrinus carry- 
 ing the Emperor's Eagles; Dioclefian with a gilt Lau- 
 rel on his Head, leading in Artcmia ; Sapritius kijjes 
 the Emperor's Hand, then embraces his Son ; Harpax 
 brings in Califle and Chrifteta. Loud Shouts* 
 
 Diode. So, at all Parts I find Cafarea 
 Completely govern'd, the licentious Soldiers 
 Confin'd in modeft Limits, and the People 
 Taught to. obey, and, not compell'd with Rigour : 
 The ancient Roman Difcipline reviv'd, 
 (Which rais'd Rome to her Greatnefs, and proclaim'd her 
 The glorious Miflrefs of the conquer'd World :) 
 But, above all, the Service of the Gods 
 So zealoufly obferv'd, that, good Sapritius, 
 In Words to thank you for your Care and Duty 
 Were much unworthy Dioclejian's Honour, 
 Or his Magnificence to his loyal Servants. 
 But I ihall find a Time with noble Titles 
 To recompenfe your Merits. 
 
 Sap. Mightiefl Co-far ! 
 Whofe Power upon this Globe of Earth is equal 
 To Jove's in Heaven ; whofe victorious Triumphs 
 On proud rebellious Kings that flir againft it, 
 Are perfect Figures of .his immortal Trophies 
 Won in the Giants' War ; whofe conqu'ring Sword 
 Guided by his ftrong Arm, as deadly kills 
 As did his Thunder ; all that I have done, 
 Or, if my Strength were centupl'd, could do, 
 Comes Ihort of what my Loyalty rauft challenge. 
 But, if in any Thing I have deferv'd 
 Great Cafar's Smile, 'tis in my humble Care 
 Still to preferve the Honour of thofe Gods, 
 That make him what he is : my Zeal to them 
 I ever have exprefs'd in my fell Hate 
 Againft the Chriftian Seel:, that with one Blow, 
 Aicribing all Things to an unknown Power, 
 Would ftrike down all their Temples, and allow them 
 Js T o Sacrifice nor Altars.
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 105 
 
 DlocL Thou, in this, 
 Walk'ft Hand in Hand with me * ; my Will and Power 
 Shall not alone confirm, but honour all 
 That are in this moft forward. 
 
 Slip* Sacred Gefar ! 
 If your Imperial Majefty fland pleas'd 
 To fhow'r your Favours upon fuch as are 
 The boldeft Champions of our Religion ; 
 Look on this reverend Man, to whom the Power 
 Of fearching out, and puniming fuch Delinquents, 
 Was by your Choice committed ; and, for Proof, 
 He hath deferv'd the Grace impos'd upon him, 
 And a fair and even Hand proceeded, 
 partial to none, not tohimfelf ; or thofe 
 Of equal Nearnefs tohimfelf; behold 
 
 ffclT 2 Thou, in this ^ 
 
 WaWji Hand in Hand ivirh me. 
 
 As the Subject of this Play is turned fo much on the Perfecution of 
 the Chriftians, I (hall here tranfcribe fuch PafTages of Diodejian's Life 
 as may ferve toilluftrate not only what the Poet here makes himfpeak, 
 but fevers! other Parts of the Tragedy before us. 
 
 " Happy and glorious had hitherto been the Reign of Diodejian ; 
 but he no fooner began to imbrue his Hands in the Blood ot the 
 Righteous, fays Eujebius, than he felt the Elie&s of Divine Vengeance 
 in the many Calamities which foon overtook him. A icw Days af- 
 ter the iflliing of the firft Edicfs againft the Chriftians, a Fire broke 
 out in the Palace at Nicamcdia where Diodcjian and Galerius (a 
 moft violent Perfecutoi ) were lodged, and reduced Part of it to 
 Afhes. Eufebius writes, that he could never know how that Acci- 
 dent happened. Conftantine, who was on the Spot, afcribes it to 
 Lightning; and LaHantius aflures us, that Galerius eaufed Fire to 
 be privately fet to the palace, that he might lay the Blame of it up- 
 on the Chriftians, and by that Means incenfe Diodejian ftill more 
 againft them, which he did accordingly. Diodejian was fo difturbed 
 with this Accident, that thenceforth he conftantly imagined he faw 
 Lightning falling from Heaven ; his Terror and Difmny was great- 
 ly increaied by a fecond Fire, which broke out in the Palace fifteen 
 Days after the flrft, but was ftopped before it had done any great 
 Mifchief : However, it had the Effect which was intended by the 
 Author of it, Galerius', for Diodejian afcribing it to the Chrillkns, 
 refoived to keep no Meafures with them ; and Galerius, the more to 
 exafperate him againft them, withdrew from Kicomedia the lame 
 Day, faying, that he was afraid of being burnt alive by the Chrif- 
 tians.
 
 io6 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR, 
 
 Thefe Tair of Virgins. 
 Diode. What arc thcfe ? 
 Sap, His Daughters. 
 
 Artenu Now by your facrcd Fortune, they are fair ones : 
 Exceeding fair ones : Would 'twere in my Power 
 To make them mine. 
 
 Tbcoph. They are the Gods, great Lady ! 
 They were moll happy in your Service elfe : 
 On thefe (when they fell from their Father's Faith) 
 I us'd a Judge's Power, Intreaties failing 
 (They being fedue'd) to win them to adore 
 The holy Pow'rs we worfhip; I put on 
 The fcarlet Robe of bold Authority : 
 And, as they had been Strangers to my Blood, 
 Prefented them (in the moil horrid Form) 
 All kind of Tortures, Part of which they fuffer'd 
 With Roman Conflancy. 
 
 Artem. And could you endure, 
 Being a Father, to behold their Limbs 
 Extended on the Rack ? 
 
 Tbcoph. I did ; but mull 
 Confefs, there was a llrange Contention in me, 
 Between th' impartial Office of a Judge, 
 And Pity of a Father; to help Jullice 
 Religion ftept in, under which Odds 
 Compaffion fell : Yet Hill I was a Father ; 
 For even then, when the flinty Hangman's Whips 
 Were worn with Stripes fpent on their tender Limbs, 
 I kneel'd, and wept, and begg'd them tho' they 
 
 would 
 Be cruel to themfelves, they would take Pity 
 On my grey Hairs, Now note a fudden Change, 
 Which I with Joy remember; thofe, whom Torture, 
 Nor fear of Death could terrify, were o'ercome 
 By feeing of my Sufferings ; and fo won, 
 (Returning to the Faith that they were born in,) 
 I gave them to the Gods ; and be aflur'd 
 I that us'd Jullice with a rig'rous Hand 
 Upon fuch beauteous Virgins, and mine own, 
 Will ufe no Favour, where the Caufe commands me,
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 107 
 
 To any other ; but, as Rocks, be deaf 
 To all Intreaties. 
 
 Diode. Thou deferv'ft thy Place ; 
 Still hold it, and with Honour. Things thus order'd 
 Touching the Gods, 'tis lawful to defcend 
 To human Cares, and exercife that Power 
 Heav'n has conferred upon me ; which that ycu, 
 Rebels and Tray tors to the Power of Rome, 
 Should with all Extremities undergo, 
 What can you urge toqualify your Crimes 
 Or mitigate my Anger ? 
 
 Epire. We are now 
 Slaves to thy Power, that yefterday were Kings 
 And had Command o'er others ; we confefs 
 Our Grandfires paid yours Tribute, yet left us, 
 As their Forefathers had, Defire of Freedom. 
 And, if you Romans hold it glorious Honour, 
 Not only to defend what is your own, 
 But to enlarge your Empire, (tho'our Fortune 
 Denies that Happinefs) who can accufe 
 The famiih'd Mouth, if it attempt to feed ; 
 Or fuch, whofe Fetters eat into their Freedoms, 
 If they defire to lhake them off ? 
 
 Pontus. We fland 
 The lafl Examples, to prove how uncertain 
 All human Happinefs is, and are prepar'd 
 To endure the worft. 
 
 Macedon. That Spoke, which now is higheft 
 In Fortune's Wheel, muft, when fhe turns it next, 
 Decline as low as we are. 4 This, confider'd, 
 Taught the ^Egyptian Hercules, Sefojlris, 
 
 #T 4 This, confideSJ, 
 
 Taught the /Egyptian Hercules, Sefoftris, 
 
 Sefoftrls might have been eonfidered as one of the mod illuftrious 
 and moil boalted Heroes ef Antiquity, had not the Luftre of his 
 warlike Actions, as well as his pacific Virtues been taruifhed by a 
 Thrift ot Glory, and a blind Fondnefs for his own Grandeur, which 
 made him forget that he was a Man ; the Kings and Chiefs of the 
 conquered Nations came, at ftated Times, to do Homage to their 
 Victor, and pay him the appointed Tribute : On every other Oc-
 
 io8 THE VIRGIN -MARTYR. 
 
 (That had his Chariot drawn by Captive Kings.) 
 To free them from that Slavery ; but to hope 
 Such Mercy from a Roman, were mere Madnefs : 
 We are familiar with what Cruelty 
 Rome, fince her infant Grcatnefs, ever us'd 
 Such as me triumph'd over ; Age nor Sex 
 Exempted from her Tyranny ; fcepter'd Princes 
 Kept in your common Dungeons, and their Children 
 In Scorn train'd up in bafe mechanic Arts 
 For publick Bondmen : In the Catalogue 
 Of thofe unfortunate Men, we expect to have 
 Our Names rcmembcr'd. 
 
 Diode* In all growing Empires 
 Ev'n Cruelty is ufeful ; fome mult fuffer, 
 And be fet up Examples to flrike Terror 
 In others, tho' far off: But, when a State, 
 Is rais'd to her Perfection, and her Bafes 
 Too firm to fhrink, or yield, we may ufe Mercy, 
 And dot with Safety : But to whom ? Not Cowards, 
 Or fuch whofe Bafenefs ihames the Conqueror 
 And robs him of his Victory, as weak Perfeus 
 Did great JEmilius.'t Know, therefore, Kings 
 Of Epire, Pontus and of Macedon, 
 That I with Courtefy can ufe my Prifoners 
 
 cafion he treated them with fome Humanity and Generofiy ; but 
 when he went to the Temple, or entered his Capital, he caufed thefe 
 Princes, four a-breaft, to be harnefled to his Car inftead of Horfes; 
 and valued himfelf upon his being thus drawn by the Lords and 
 Sovereigns of other Nations. 
 
 (/* 5 As weak Perfeui 
 
 Did great ./Emilius. 
 
 ^ It is faid that Perfeus fent to defire Paulus JEmilius not to exhibit 
 him as a Spectacle to the Romans, and to fpare him the Indignity of 
 being led in Triumph. Paulus JEmilius replied coldly, the Favour he 
 qfks of me is in his own Power ; he can procure it for himfelf. He re- 
 proached in thofe few Words his Cowardice and exceffive Love of 
 Life, which the Pagans thought incumbent on them to facrifice gene- 
 roufly in fuch Conjunctures. They did not know that it is never 
 lawful to attempt upon one's own Life. But Perfeus was not prevented 
 by that Confideration : For further Particulars fee Rolling Ancient 
 Hiflory, Vol. II.
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 109 
 
 As well as make them mine by Force, provided 
 That they are noble Enemies : Such I found you 
 Before I made you mine ; and, fince you were fo, 
 You have not loft the Courages of Princes, 
 Altho' the Fortune. Had you borne yourfelves 
 Dejectedly, and bafe, no Slavery 
 Had been too eafy for you : but fuch is 
 The Power of noble Valour, that we love it 
 Ev'n in our Enemies, and, taken with it, 
 Defire to make them Friends, as I will you. 
 
 Epire. Mock us not, Cafar ! 
 
 Diode. By the Gods, I do not. 
 Unloofe their Bonds ; -I now as Friends embrace you ; 
 Give them their Crowns again. 
 
 Pontes. We're twice o'ercome ; 
 By Courage and by Courtefy. 
 
 Macedon. But this latter 
 Shall teach us to live ever faithful VafTals 
 To Dioclefian, and the Power of Rome. 
 
 Epire. All Kingdoms fall before her. 
 
 Pontus. And all Kings 
 Contend to honour Cajar I 
 
 Diocle. I believe 
 Your Tongues are the true Trumpets of your Hearts, 
 And in it I raoft happy. Queen of Fate ! 
 Imperious Fortune, mix fome light Difafter 
 With my fo many Joys, to feafon them, 
 And give them fweeter Relifh; I'm girt round 
 With true Felicity ; faithful Subjects here ; 
 Here bold Commanders ; here with new-made Friends; 
 But, what's the Crown of all, in thee, Artcnua ! 
 My only Child ! whofe Love to me and Duty 
 Strive to exceed each other. 
 
 Artem. I make Payment 
 But of a Debt which I ftand bound to tender 
 As a Daughter and a Subject:. 
 
 Diocle. Which requires yet 
 A Retribution from me, Artemia ! 
 Ty'd by a Father's Care, how to beftow 
 A Jewel, of all Things, to me moft precious :
 
 no THE VIRGIN-MARTYR, 
 
 Nor will I therefore longer keep thee from 
 The chief Joys of Creation, Marriage Rights ; 6 
 Which that thou may'ft with greater Pleafures tafte of. 
 Thou malt not like with mine Eyes, but thine own. 
 Among thefe Kings, forgetting they were Captives, 
 Or thofe, remembring not they are my Subjects, 
 Make Choice of any; by Jove's dreadful Thunder 
 My Will fhall rank with thine. 
 
 Artem. It is a Bounty 
 The Daughters of great Princes feldom meet with ; 
 For they, to make up Breaches in the State, 
 Or for fome other publick Ends, are forc'd 
 To match where they affect not : May my Life 
 Deferve this Favour. 
 
 Diode. Speak ! I long to know 
 The Man thou wilt make happy. 
 
 Artem. If that Titles, 
 Or the adored Name of Queen, could take me, 
 Here would I fix mine Eyes, and look no further : 
 But thefe are Baits to take a x mean-born Lady, 
 Not her, that boldly may call Casfar Father : 
 In that I can bring Honour unto any, 
 But from no King that lives receive Addition. 
 To raife Defert and Virtue by my Fortune, 
 Tho' in a low Eftate, were greater Glory, 
 Than to mix Greatnefs with a Prince that owns 
 No Worth but that Name only. 
 
 Diode. I commend thee : 
 'Tis like myfelf. 
 
 Artem. If then, of Men beneath me 
 My Choice is to be made, where fhall I feek, 
 But among thofe that beft deferve from you ? 
 That have ferv'd you moft faithfully ; that in Dangers 
 Have flood next to you ; that have interposal 
 Their Breads, as Shields of Proof, to dull their Swords 
 Aim'd at your Bofom ; that have fpent their Blood 
 To crown your Brows with Laurel. 
 
 6 The Rights which Marringe gives may be considered as the chief 
 Joys of Creation, but the mere Ceremonies of Marriage cannot. M. M.
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR, in 
 
 Macr. Cytherea, 
 Great Queen of Love, be now propitious to me ! [Afide. 
 
 Harp, Now mark what I foretold. 
 
 Anton, Her Eyes on me ! 
 Fair Venus' 's Son ! draw forth a leaden Dart, 
 And, that fhe may hate me, transfix her with it ; 
 Or, if thou needs wilt ufe a Golden one, 
 Shoot in the Behalf of any other ; 
 Thou know'ft I am thy Votary elfewhere. \_Afidc. 
 
 Artem, Sir ! 
 
 Tkeoph, How he blufhes ! 
 
 Sap, Welcome, Fool, thy Fortune ! 
 Stand like a Block, when fuch an Angel courts thee ? 
 
 Artem, I am no Object to divert your Eye 
 From the beholding. 
 
 Anton, Rather a bright Sun 
 Too glorious for him to gaze upon, 
 That took not firft Flight from the Eagle's Airy; 
 As I look on the Temples or the Gods., 
 And with that Reverence, Lady, I behold you, 
 And mall do ever. 
 
 Artem, And it will become you, 
 While thus we Hand at Diftance ; but, if Love 
 (Love, born out of the Affurance of your Virtues,) 
 Teach me to floop fo low 
 
 Anton. O, rather take 
 A higher Flight ! 
 
 Artem. Why fear you to be rais'd ? 
 Say I put off the dreadful Awe that waits 
 On Majefly, or with you {hare my Beams ; 
 Nay make you too outmine me, change the Name 
 Of Subjedt into Lord ; rob you of Service 
 That's due from you to me, and in me make it 
 Duty to honour you, would you refufe me ? 
 
 Anton, Refufe you, Madam ? Such a Worm, as I am, 
 Refufe what Kings upon their Knees would fue for r 
 Call it, great Lady, by another Name; 
 An humble Modefty, that would not match 
 , A Molehill with Olympus, 
 
 Artem, He that's famous
 
 ii2 THE VIRGIN-M ART Y R. 
 
 For honourable Actions in the War, 
 As you are, Antoninus ; a prov'd Soldier 
 Is fellow to a King. 
 
 Anton. If you love Valour, 
 As 'tis a kingly Virtue, feek it out, 
 And cherifti it in a King ! there it mines brighter!:, 
 And yields the braveft Luftre. Look on Epire, 
 A Prince, in whom it is incoporate ; 
 And let it not difgrace him that he was 
 O'er come by Cafar ; it was a Victory 
 To ftand fo long againft him : Had you feen him, 
 How in one bloody Scene he did difcharge 
 The Parts of a Commander and a Soldier, 
 Wife in Direction, bold in Execution ; 
 You would havefaid, great C<efar's felf excepted, 
 The World yields not his Equal. 
 
 Artcm. Yet I've heard, 
 Encount'ring him alone in the Head of his Troop,. 
 You took him Prifoner. 
 
 Epire. 'Tis a Truth, great Princefs ; 
 I'll not detract from Valour. 
 
 Anton. 'Twas mere Fortune ; Courage had no Hand 
 in it. 
 
 Thcoph. Did ever Man 
 Strive fo againft his own Good \ 
 
 Sap. Spiritlefs Villain ! 
 How I am tortur'd ! By th' immortal Gods, 
 I now could kill him. 
 
 Diode. Hold, Sapritius, hold ! 
 On our Difpleafure hold ! 
 
 Harp. Why, this would make 
 A Father mad ; 'tis not to be endur'd ; 
 Your Honour's tainted in't. 
 
 Sap. By Heav'n, it is ; 
 I fhall think of it. 
 
 Harp. 'Tis not to be forgotten. 
 
 Artem, Nay, kneel not, Sir ! I am no Ravifher ; 
 Nor fo far gone in fond Affection to you, 
 But that I can retire, my Honour fafe ; 
 Yet fay, hereafter, that thou haft neglected
 
 TtlE VIRGIN-MARTYR. ii$ 
 
 What, butfeen in Poffeflion of another, 
 Will make thee mad with Envy. 
 
 Anton, In her Looks 
 Revenge is written. 
 
 Mac. As you love your Life* 
 Study to appcafe her. 
 
 Anton. Gracious Madam, hear me J 
 
 Artem. And be again refus'd, 
 . Anton. The Tender of 
 
 My Life, my Service, not, fince you vouchfafe it, 
 My Love, my Heart, my All : And pardon me, , 
 Pardon, dread Princely ! that I made ibmc Scruple 
 To leave a Valley of Security, 
 To mount up to the Hill of Majcfty, 
 On which, the nearer Jove, the nearer Lightning. 
 What knew I, but, your Grace made Trial of me ? 
 Durft I prefume t'embracej where but to touch 
 With an unmanner'd Hand* were Death ? The Fox, 
 When he faw firft the Foreft's King, the Lion, 
 Was almoft dead with Fear ; the fecOnd View 
 Only a little daunted him ; the third 
 He durft falute him boldly : Pray you, apply this 5 
 And you ftiall find a little Time will teach me 
 To look with more familiar Eyes upon you 
 Than Duty yet allows me; 
 
 Sap. Well excus'd ! 
 
 Artem* You may redeem all yet. 
 
 Diocle. And, that he may 
 Have Means and Opportunity to do {o s 
 Artemia, I leave you my Subftitute 
 In fair Qefarea. 
 
 Sap. And here, as yourfelf, 
 We will obey and ferve her. 
 
 Diocle. Antoninus, 
 So you prove hers, I wiih no other Heir. 
 Think on't be careful of your Charge, Thcopbilusi 
 Sapritivs, be you my Daughter's Guardian. 
 Your Company I wifh, confederate Princes, 
 In our Dalmatian Warff, which fiuifhed, 
 
 Vol. I. H 
 
 7
 
 ir 4 THE VIRGJN-M A R T Y R. 
 
 With Victory I hope, and Max/minus, 
 Our Brother and Copartner in the Empire, 
 At my Requeit won to confirm as much, 
 The Kingdoms I took from you we'll reftore, 
 And make you greater than you were before. 
 
 \Exeunt all but Antoninus ^WMacrinus* 
 
 Anion. Oh ! I am loft for ever ! loft, Macrinus ! 
 The Anchor of the Wretched, Hope, forfakes me, 
 And with one Blaft of Fortune all my Light 
 Of Happinefs is put out. 
 rjsM.ii' . You're like to thofe 
 T hat are ill only, 'caufe they are too well ; 
 hat, furfeiting in the Excels of Bleffings, 
 ^all their Abundance Want What could you wifh, 
 That is not fall'n upon you ? Honour, Greatnefs, 
 Rcfpect, Wealth, Favour, the whole World for a Dower; 
 And with a Princefs, whole excelling Form 
 Exceeds her Fortune. 
 
 Anton. Yet Poifon ftill is Poifon, 
 Tho' drunk in Gold ; and all thefe flatt'ring Glories 
 To me, ready to ftarve, a painted Banquet 
 And no cffcntial Food : When I am fcorch'd 
 With Fire, can Flames in any other quench me,? 
 What is her Love to me, Greatnefs, or Empire, 
 That am Slave to another, who alone 
 Can give me Eafe or Freedom ? 
 
 Mac. Sir, you point at 
 Your Dotage on the fcornful Dorothea : 
 Is flie, tho' fair, the fame Day to be nam'd 
 With beft Artemia f In all their Courfes, 
 W T ife Men propofe their Ends. With fweet Artemia 
 There comes along Plcafure, Security, 
 Uflier'dby all that in this Life is precious : 
 With Dorothea (tho' her Birth be noble, 
 The Daughter -to a Senator of Ro<)ie, 
 By him left rich, yet with a private Wealth, 
 And far inferior to yours) arrives 
 The Emp'ror's Frown, which, like a mortal Plague, 
 Speaks Death is near ; the Princefs' heavy Scorn, 
 "Under which you'll fink; your Father's Fury,
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. t*$ 
 
 Which to refift, e'en Piety forbids : 
 
 And but remember that fhe flands fufpected 
 
 A Favourer of the Christian Sectj fhe brings 
 
 Not Danger, but affured Definition with her. 
 
 This truly weigh 'd, one Smile of great Artemid 
 
 Is to be cherifh'd, arid preferr'd before 
 
 All Joys in Dorothea Therefore leave her. 
 
 Anton, In what thou think'fl thou art mofl wife, thou 
 art 
 tJrofly abus'd, Macrinus, and moll fooliih. 
 For any Man to match above his Rank, 
 Is but to fell his Liberty : With Artemia 
 I flill muft live a Servant ; but, enjoying 
 Divined Dorothea, I mall rule ; 
 Rule as becomes a Hufband. For the Danger, 
 Or call it, if you will , aflur'd Deflru&ion, 
 I flight it thus If; then, thou art niy Friend, 
 As I dare fwear thou art, arid wilt not take 
 A Governor's Place upon thee; be my Helper. 
 
 Mat. You know I dare, and will do any thing ; 
 Put me unto the Tefl. 
 
 Anton. Go then, Macrinus, 
 To Dorothea ; tell her, I have worn, 
 In all the Battles I have fought, her Figure, 
 Her Figure in my Heart, which, like a Deity, 
 Hath flill protected me. Thou can'ft fpeak well, 
 And of thy choiceil Lnaguage fpare a little, 
 To make her underftand how much I love her, 
 And how I languifh for her. Bear thefe Jewels, 
 Sent in the Way of Sacrifice, not Service, 
 As to my Goddefs. All Lets thrown behind me, 
 Or Fears that may deter me, fay, this Morning 
 I mean to vifit her by the Name of Frieridfhip ; 
 No Words to contradidt this. 
 
 Mac. I am yours : 
 And, if my Travel this Way be ill fpent, 
 Judge not my readier Will by the Event. 
 
 End of the Firji Act. 
 
 B 2
 
 Ii6 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 A C T II. S C E N E I. 
 
 Enter Spungius and Hircius. 7 
 
 Spungius. 
 
 t 
 JT^URN Chriftian? Would he that firft temped me 
 to have my Shoes walk upon Chriftian Soles, had 
 turn'd me into a Capon : For I am fure now, the Stone9 
 of all my Pleafure, in this flefhly Life, are cut off. 
 
 Hir. So then, if any Coxcomb has a galloping Define 
 to ride, here is a Gelding, if he can but fit him. 
 
 Spun, I kick, for all that, like a Horfe ; look elfe. 
 ' Hir. But that is a kickifh Jade, Fellow Spungius ! 
 Have not I as much Caufe to complain as thou haft ? 
 When I was a Pagan, there was an Infidel Punk 
 of mine, would have let me come upon Truft for my 
 Curvetting : A Pox on your Chriftian Cockatrices, they 
 cry, like Poulterers' Wives, no Money, no Coney. 
 
 Spun. Bacchus, the God of brew'd Wine and Sugar, 
 Grand Patron of Rob-pots, upfy-freefy Tipplers, and 
 Super-naculum-takers ; this Bacchus, who is Head- 
 warden of Vintners'-hall, Ale-conner, Mayor of all 
 Vi&ualling-houfes, the lble liquid Benefactor to Bawdy 
 Houfes ; Lanfepeiade 8 to red Nofes, and invincible 
 
 fjpT 7 Very few of our old EngliJbVhp.nrc free from thefe Dialogues 
 of low Wit and Buffoonery : 'Twas the Vice of the Age ; nor is 
 Majjinger lefs free from it than his Cotempoi aiies. To defend them 
 is impoifible, no* (hall I attempt it. They are of this Ule, that they 
 mark the Tafte, difplay the Manners, and fhew us what was the chief 
 Delight and Entertainment of our Forefathers. 
 
 8 Lanfepefades were a Sort of petty Officers in the Army below 
 the Coporals, but above the common Men ; and we have (till in our 
 Regiments what are called Lance Corporals, who are common Sol- 
 diers employed occafionally to aft as Corporals. Chambers derives this 
 Word from I.ancia S&ezzata, which means in Italian, a broken. 
 Lance, this Rank of Men being generally compofed of difmounted 
 Horlemen, who fought with Lances. Were it not that it frequently 
 occurs In other old Plays, I mould have thought it, ill this l'aflagc, 
 not worthy of Explanation. Af.il/.
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 117 
 
 Adelantado over the Armado of pimpled, deep-fcarlet- 
 cd, rubified, and carbuncled Faces. 
 
 Hir. What of all this? 
 
 Spun. This boon Bacchanalian Skinker, did I make 
 Legs to 
 
 Hi/, Scurvy ones, when thou wert drunk. 
 
 Spun, There is no Danger of lofing a Man's Ears by 
 making tbefe Indentures ; he that will not now and then 
 be Cakibingo, is worfe than a Calamoothe. When I was a 
 Pagan, and kneeled to this Bacchus, I durft out-drink a 
 Lord ; but your Chriftian Lords out-bowl me. I was 
 in Hope to lead a fober Life, when I was converted ; 
 but, amongft the Chriftians, I can no fooner dagger out 
 of one Ale-houfe, but I reel into another : They have 
 whole Streets of nothing but Drinking-rooms, and Drab- 
 bing-chambers, jumbled together. 
 
 Hir. Bawdy Priapus, the firft Schoolmafter that 
 taught Butchers how to {tick Pricks in Flefh, and make 
 it fwell, thou know'ft, was the only N ingle that I ca- 
 red for, under the Moon ; but, fince I left him to fol- 
 low a fcurvy Lady, what with her Praying and our 
 Falling, if now I come to a W T ench, and offer to ufe 
 her any thing hardly (telling her, being a Chriftian, the 
 muft endure) fhe presently handles me as if I were a 
 Clove, and cleaves me with Difdain, as if I were g 
 Calf's Head. 
 
 Spun. I fee no Remedy, Fellow Hircius, but that thou 
 and I mull be half Pagans, and half Chriftians ; for wc 
 know very Fools that are Chriftians. 
 
 Hir. Right : The Quarters of Chriftians are good 
 for nothing but to feed Crows. 
 
 Spun. True : Chriftian Brokers, thou know 'ft, are 
 made up of the Quarters of Chriftians ; parboil one of 
 thefe Rogues and he is not Meat for a Dog : No, no, 
 I am refolved to have an Infidel's Heart, tho' in Shew I 
 carry a Chriftian's Face. 
 
 Hir. Thy laft fhall ferve my Foot fo will I. 
 
 Spun. Our whimpering Lady and Miftrefs fent mc 
 
 83
 
 u8 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 with two great Bafkets full of Beef, Mutton, Veal, and 
 Goofe, Fellow Hircius- 
 
 Hir. And Woodcock, Fellow Spungius. 
 
 Spun. Upon the poor lean Afs-fellow, on which I rid, 
 to all the Alms-women : What thinkeft thou I have 
 done with all this good Cheer ? 
 
 Hir. Eat it; or bechok'd elfc. 
 
 Spun. Would my Ais, Bafket and all were in thy 
 Maw, if I did : No, as I am a Demi-pagan, I fold the 
 Victuals, and coined the Money into Pottle Pots of 
 Wine. 
 
 Hir. Therein thou Ihew'd'fl thyfelf a perfect Dcmi- 
 chriftian too, to let the Poor beg, ftarve, and hang, or 
 die of the Pip. Our puling, fnotty-nos'd Lady fent me 
 out likewife with a Purfc of Money, to relieve and re- 
 lcafe Prifoners Did I fo, think you ? 
 
 Spun. Would thy Ribs were turned into Grates of 
 Iron then. 
 
 Hir. As I am a total Pagan I fwore they mould be 
 hanged firft ; for, Sirrah Spungius, I lay at my old Ward 
 of Lechery, and cried, a Pox on your Two-penny 
 Wards ! and fo I took fcurvy common Flefh for the 
 Money. 
 
 Spun.' And wifely done ; For our Lady, fending it to 
 Prifoners, had beftowed it upon lowly Knaves ; and 
 thou, to fave that Labour, caft it away upon rotten 
 Whores. 
 
 Hir. All my Fear is of that Pink-an-eye-jackanapes 
 Boy, her Page. 
 
 Spun. As I am a Pagan from my Cod-piece down- 
 ward, that white-fae'd Monkey frights me too : I ftole 
 but a dirty Pudding, laft Day out of an Alms-balket, 
 to give my Dog when he was hungry, and the peaking 
 chitty-face Page hit me in the Teeth with it. 
 
 Hir, With the dirty Pudding ? So he did me once 
 with a Cow-turd, which in Knavery I would have 
 crumb'd into one's Porridge, who was half a Pagan 
 too : The fmug Dandiprat fmclls us out, whatfoever 
 vvc are doing.
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 119 
 
 Spun. Does he ? Let him take Heed I prove not his 
 Back-friend : I'll make him curfe his Smelling what I 
 do. 
 
 Hir, 'Tis my Lady fpoils the Boy ; for he is ever at # 
 her Heels, and fhe is never well but in his Company. 
 
 Enter Angelo, with a Book and a Taper lighted ; they, fee- 
 ing him, counterfeit Devotion, 
 
 Ang, O ! now your Hearts make Ladders of your 
 Eyes, 
 In Shew to ciimb to ^leaven, when your Devotion 
 
 Walks upon Crutches. Where did you waite your 
 
 Time, 
 When the religious Man was on his Knees, 
 Speaking the heavenly Language ? 
 
 Spun, Why, Fellow Angelo, we were fp caking; in Ped- 
 lar's French I hope. 
 
 Hir. We ha' not been idle, take it upon my Word. 
 
 Ang, Have you the JSafkets emptied, which your 
 Lady 
 Sent from her charitable Hands to Women 
 That dwell upon her Pity } 
 
 Spun. Emptied 'em? Yes; I'd be , loth to have my 
 Belly fo empty ; yet, L am fure, I munched not one Bit 
 of them neither. 
 
 Ang, And went your Money to the Prifoncrs ? 
 
 Hir, Went ? No ; I carried it, and with thefe Fin- 
 gers paid it away, 
 
 Ang, What Way X The Devil's Way, the Way of 
 Sin, 
 The Way of hot Damnation, Way of Luit : 
 And you, to walh away the Poor Man's Bread 
 In Bowls of Drunkcnnefs. 
 
 Spun. Drunkennels ! Yes, yes, I ufe to be drunk ; 
 our next Neighbour's Man, called Chrifophrr, hath often 
 feen, me drunk, hath he not ? 
 
 Hir. Or me given fo to the Flefh } My Checks fpeak 
 my Doings.. 
 
 H 4
 
 i2o THE VIRGIN-MARTYR, 
 
 Ang. A vaunt, ye Thieves, and hollow Hypocrites ! 
 Your Hearts to me lie open like black Books, 
 And there I read your Doings. 
 
 Spun. And what do you read in my Heart ? 
 
 Hir. Or in mine ? Come, amiable Angch ! beat the 
 Flint of your Brain. 
 
 Spun, And let's fee what Sparks of Wit fly out to 
 kindle yqur Carcbrunt* 
 
 Ang* Your Names even brand you : You are Spun- 
 gius call'd, 
 And, like a Spunge, you fuck up lickerifh Wines, 
 Till your Soul reels to Hell. 
 
 Spun. To Hell ! can any Drunkard's Legs carry hirr> 
 fo tar? 
 
 Ang. For Blood of Grapes you fold the Widow's, 
 Food, 
 And ftarving them 'tis Murder : What this but Hell ? 
 Hircius your Name, and goatiih is your Nature ; 
 You fnatch the Meat out of the Prifoner's Mouth, 
 To fatteri Harlots : Is not this Hell too ? 
 No Angel, but the Devil, waits on you. 
 
 Spun. Shall I cut his Throat ? 
 
 Hir, No; better burn him, for I think he is a Witch j 
 but footh, footh him. 
 
 Spun. Fellow Angelo, true it is, that falling into the 
 Company of wicked He-chriftians, for my Part 1 
 
 Hir. And She-ones, for my Part, we have 'em fwim 
 in Shoals hard by. 
 
 Spun. We mu ft confefs, I took too much out of the 
 pot ; and he of t'other hollow Commodity. 
 
 Hir. Yes, indeed, we laid lill on both of us ; we co- 
 zen'd the Poor ; but 'tis a common Thing ; many a 
 one, that counts himfelf a better Chriftian than we two, 
 has done it, by this Light. 
 
 Spun. But pray, fweet Angeb, play not the Tell-tale 
 to my Lady ; and, if you take us creeping into any of 
 thefc Moufe-holcs of Sin any more, let Cats flea off our 
 Skins. 
 
 Hir. And put nothing but the poifon'd Tails of Rats 
 into thofe Skins.
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. izi 
 
 Aug. Will you difhopour her fweet Charity, 
 Who fav'd you from the Tree of ]Death and Shame ? 
 
 Hir. Would I were pang'd rather than thus be told 
 of my Faults. 
 
 Spun. She took us, 'tis true, from the Gallows ; yet 
 I hope fhe will not bar Yeomen Sprats to have their 
 jSwing. 
 
 Ang. She /comes, beware and mend. 
 
 Hir, Let's break his Neck, and bid him mend. 
 
 Enter Dorothea. 
 
 Dor. Have you my Meffages fent to the Poor, 
 Deliver'd with good Hands, not robbing them. 
 Of any Jot was theirs. 
 
 Spun. Rob 'em, Lady ? I hope neither my Fellow 
 nor I am Thieves. 
 
 Hir. Deliver'd with good Hands, Madam ; elfe let 
 me never lick my Fingers more when I eat butter *d 
 Fim. 
 
 Dor, Who cheat the Poor, and from them pluck 
 their Alms, 
 Pilfer from Heav'n, and there are Thunderbolts 
 From thence to beat them ever. Do not lie ; 
 Were you both faithful, true Diftributers ? 
 
 Spun. Lie, Madam P What Grief is it to fee vol* 
 turn Swaggerer, and give yqur poor-minded ralcally 
 Servants the Lie, 
 
 Dor. I'm glad you do not ; if thofe wretched People 
 Tell you they pine for Want of any Thing, 
 Whifper but to mine Ear, and you ihall furnifh them. 
 
 Hir. Whifper ? Nay, Lady, for my Part, Til cry 
 whoop. 
 
 Ang. Play no more, Villains, with fo good a Lady ; 
 For, if you do 
 
 Spun. Are we Chriftians ? 
 
 Hir. The foul Fiend friap all Pagans for me. 
 
 Ang. Away, and once more mend. 
 
 Spun. Tak'ft us for Botchers ?
 
 in THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Hir. A Patch, a Patch. [Exeunt Spun, and Hir. 
 
 Dor. My Book and Taper. 
 
 Ang. Here, moft holy Miftrefs. 
 
 Dor. Thy Voice fends forth fuch Muflc, that I never 
 Was ravifh'd with a more celeftial Sound. 
 Were every Servant in the World like thee, 
 So full of Goodnefs, Angels would come down 
 To dwell with us : Thy Name is Angelo, 
 And like that Name thou art ; get thee to Reft, 
 Thy Youth with too much Watching is opprcft. 
 
 Ang. No, my dear Lady ! I could weary Stars, 
 And force the wakeful Moon to lofe her Eyes 
 By my late Watching, but to wait on you. 
 When at your Prayers you kneel before the Altar, 
 Methlnks I'm ringing with fome Quire in Heaven^ 
 So bleft I hold me in your Company : 
 Therefore, my molt lov'd Miftrefs, do not bid 
 Your Boy, fo ferviceable, to get hence ; 
 For then yqu break his Heart. 
 
 Dor. Be nigh me ftill, then ; 
 In Qolden Letters down I'll fet that Day, 
 Which gave thee to me. Little did I hope 
 To meet fuch Worlds of Comfort in thyfelf ; 
 This little, pretty Body, when I, coming 
 Forth of the Temple, heard my Beggar-boy, 
 'i/ly fweet-fae'd, go#ly Beggar-boy, crave an Alms, 
 Which with glad Hand I gave, with lucky Hand ; 
 And, when I took thee Home, my moft chafte Bofom 
 Methought, was fill'd with no hot wanton Fire, 
 But with a holy Flame, mounting fince higher, 
 On Wings of Cherubims, than it did before. 
 
 Ang. Proud am I, that my Lady's modeft Eye 
 So likes fo poor a Servant. 
 
 Dor. I have offer'd 
 Handfuls of Gold but to behold thy Parents. 
 I would leave Kingdoms, were I Queen of fome, 
 To dwell with thy good Father ; for, the Son 
 Bewitching me fo deeply with his Prcfence, 
 He that begot him muft do't ten Times more. 

 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 123 
 
 I pray thee, my fwcet Boy, mew me thy Parents ; 
 Be not afham'd. 
 
 Ang. I am not : I did never 
 Know who my Mother was ; but, by yon Palace, 
 Fill'd with bright heav'nly Courtiers, I dare aflure you, 
 And pawn thefe Eyes upon it, and this Hand, 
 My Father is in Heaven ; and, pretty Miftrefs, 
 If your illuftrious Hour-glafs fpend his Sand 
 No worfe than yet it doth, upon my Life, 
 You and I both mall meet my Father there, 
 And he fhall bid you welcome. 
 
 Dor. A bleffed Day ! 
 We all long to be there, but lofe the Way, [Exeunt,, 
 
 SCENp II. 
 
 Macrinus^ Friend to Antoninus, enters, being met by 
 Theophilus and Harpax. 
 
 Theoph. Sun, God of the Day, guide thee, Macrinus ! 
 
 Mac. And thee, Theophilus ! 
 
 Theoph. Gaddeft thou in fuch Scorn ? 
 I call my Wifh back. 
 
 Mac. I'm in Hafte. 
 
 Theoph. One Word, 
 Take the leaft Hand of Time up : Stay. 
 
 Mac. Be Brief. 
 
 Theoph. As Thought : I prithee tell me,good Macrinus t 
 How Health and our fair Princefs lay together 
 This Night, for you can tell ; Courtiers have Flics 
 That buz all News unto them. 
 
 Mac. She flept but ill. 
 
 Theoph. Double thy Curtfey ; how does Antoninus ? 
 
 Mac. Ill ; well ; ftraight ; crooked ; I know not 
 how. 
 
 Theoph. Once more; 
 r'jThy Head is full of Windmills : when doth the 
 Pripccfs.
 
 I2 4 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 Fill a Bed full of Beauty, and beflow it 
 On Antoninus, on the Wedding-night ) 
 
 Mac* I know not. 
 
 Theoph. No ? Thou art the Manufcript, 
 Where Antoninus writes down all his Secrets. 
 Jionefl Macrinus, tell me. 
 
 Mac. Fare you well, Sir ! [Exit. 
 
 Harp. Honefly is fome Fiend, and frights him hence ; 
 And many Courtiers love it not, 
 
 TJ:eoph. What Piece 
 Of this State-wheel (which winds up Antoninus) 
 Is broke, it runs fo jarringly ? The Man 
 Is from himfelf divided ; O, thou, the Eye 
 By which I Wonders fee, tell me, my Harpax, 
 What Gadfly tickles fo this Macrinus, 
 That, flinging up the Tail, he breaks thus from me, 
 
 Harp. Oh? Sir ! his Brain-pan is a Bed of Snakes, 
 Whofe Stings fhoot thro* his Eye-balls, whofe pois'nous 
 
 Spawn 
 Ingenders fuch a Fry of fpeckjed Villainies, 
 That, unlefs Charms more ftrong than Adamant, 
 Be us'd, the Roman Angel's 9 Wings mall melt, 
 And Cafar\ Diadem be from his Head 
 Spurn'd by bafe Feet ; the Laurel which he wears, 
 (Returning Victor) be enforc'd to kifs 
 (That which it hates) the Fire. And can this Ram, 
 This Antoninus-engme, being made ready 
 To fo much Mifchief, keep a fteady Motion } 
 His Eyes and Feet, you fee, give ftrange Affaults. 
 
 Thcoph. Pm turn'd a Marble Statue at thy Language, 
 Which printed is in fuch crabbed Characters, 
 It puzzles all my Reading : What i* th' Name 
 Of Pluto, now is hatching ? 
 
 Harp. This, Macrinus, 
 The Line is, upon which Love-errands run 
 'Twixt Antoninus and thatGhoft of Woman, 
 
 9 As Angels were no Part of the Pagan Theology, thi% 
 fliould certainly be Augel, from the Italian Augelle^ which means a 
 Bird, *Tke Allufion is to the Roman Eagle. M. M.
 
 THE ViRGlN-MARTVft, 125 
 
 The bloodlefs Dorothea, who in Prayer 
 And Meditation (mocking all your Gods) 
 Drinks up her Ruby Colour : Yet Antoninus 
 Plays the Endymion to this pale-fac'd Moon, 
 Courts her, leeks to catch her Eyes. 
 
 Theoph. And what of this ? 
 
 Harp, Thefe are but creeping Billows, 
 Not got to Shore yet : But if Dorothea 
 Fall on his Bofom, and be fir'd with Love, 
 (Your coldeft Women do To) had you Ink 
 Brew'd from th' infernal Styx, not all that Blackneft 
 Can make a Thing fo foul, as the Difhonours, 
 Difgraces, Buffetings, and moft bafe Affronts 
 Upon the bright Artemia, Star of Court, 
 Great C^far's Daughter. 
 
 Theoph. Now I conftrue thee* 
 
 Harp. Nay, more ; a Firmament of Clouds* being 
 flll'd 
 With Jove's Artillery fhot down at once, 
 To dam your Gods in Pieces, cannot give, 
 With all thofe Thunderbolts, fo deep a Blov* 
 To the Religion there, and Pagan Lore, 
 As this ; for Dorothea hates your Gods, 
 And, if me once blaft Antoninus 1 s Soul, 
 Making it foul like hers, Oh ! the Example 
 
 Theoph, Eats thro' Co/area's Heart like liquid Poifon-. 
 Have I invented Tortures to tear Chriftians, 
 To fee but which, could all that feel Hell's Torment? 
 Have Leave to Hand aloof here on Earth's Stage, 
 They would be mad, 'till they again defcended, 
 Holding the Pains moft horrid of fuch Souls, 
 May-games to thofe of mine. Hath this my Hand 
 Set down a Chriftian's Execution 
 In fuch dire Poftures, that the very Hangman 
 Fell at my Foot dead, hearing but their Figures ? 
 And fhall Macrinus and his Fcllow-mafqueE 
 Strangle me in a Dance ? 
 
 Harp. No ; on ; I hug thee, 
 For drilling thy quick Brains in this rich Plot
 
 i 2 6 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Of Tortures 'gainft thefe Chriftians : On ; I hug thee ' 
 
 Theoph, Both hug and holy me ; to tj^is Dorothea 
 Fly thou and I in Thunder. 
 
 Harp, NotforKiugdoms , . 
 
 Pil'd upon Kingdoms : There's a Villain'Page . 
 Waits on her, whom I would not fjer the World 
 Hold Traffick with ; I do fo hate his Sight, 
 That, mould I look on him I muft fink down. 
 
 Theoph, I will not lofe thee then, her to confound : 
 None but this Head with Glories fhal^bc crownM. 
 
 Harp, Oh ! mine, own as I would wifh thee. [Exeunt i 
 
 Enter Dorothea, Macrinus, and Angelo. 
 
 Dor, My trufty Angelb, with that curious Eye 
 Of thine, which ever waits upon my Bufinefs, 
 I prithee watch thofe my ftill-negligent Servants^ 
 That they perform my Will, in what's enjoin'd them 
 To th' Good of others ; elfe will you find them Flies' 
 Not lying ftill, yet in them no Good lies*: 
 Be careful, dear Boy ! 
 
 Ang, Yes, my fweet Miftrets. [.Exit.' 
 
 Dor, Now, Sir, you may go on.- 
 
 Mac, I then muft ftudy 
 A new Arithmetick, to fum up the Virtues 
 Which Antoninus gracefully become. 
 There is in him fo much Man, fo much Goodnefs, 
 So much of Honour, and of all Things elfe, 
 Which makes our Being excellent, that from his Store 
 He can enough lend others ; yet, much taken from him, 
 The Want mall be as little, as when Seas 
 Lend from their Bounty, to fill up their Poornefs 
 Of needy Rivers. * 
 
 Dor, Sir ; he is more indebted 
 To you for Praife, than you to him that owes it. 
 
 Mac, If Queens, viewing his Prefents paid to the 
 Whitenefs 
 Of your chafte Hand alone, mould be ambitious 
 But to be Partners -in their num'rous Shares, 
 This he counts nothing : Could you fee main Armies 
 
 v
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR,' , 127 
 
 Make Battles in the Quarrel of his Valour. 
 
 That 'tis the beft, the trueft, this were nothing ; 
 
 TheGreatnefs-of his State, his Father's Voice 
 
 And Arm, owing Cafarea, he ne'er boafts of; 
 
 The Sun-beams which the Emperor throws upon him, 
 
 Shine there but as in Water, and gild him - 1 *" 
 
 Not with one Spot of Pride : No, deareft Beauty ! 
 
 All thefe, heap'd up together in one Scale, 
 
 Cannot weigh down- the Love he bears to you, 
 
 Being put into the other. 
 
 Dor. Could Gold buy you 
 To fpeak thus for a Friend, yeu, Sir, are worthy 
 Of more than I will number ; *and this your Language 
 Hath Power to win upon another Woman, 
 'Top of whofe Heart the Feathers of this World 
 Are gayly ftuck : but all which firft foxx named, 
 And now this laft, his Love to me, are nothing. 
 
 Mac. You make me a fad Meiienger; but himfclf p 
 
 Enter Antoninus. 
 
 Being come in Perfon, mall, I hope, hear from you 
 Mufickmore pleafing. , 
 
 Anton. Has your Ear, Macrinus, 
 Heard none, then ? . 
 
 Mac. None I like. 
 
 Anton. But can. there be 
 In fuch a noble Cafket, wherein lies 
 Beauty and Chaftity in their full PerfectionSj 
 A rocky Heart, killing with Cruelty 
 A Life that's proftrated beneath your Feet ? 
 
 Dor. I'm guilty of a Shame I yet ne'er knew, 
 Thus to hold Parley with you ; pray, Sir, pardon. 
 
 Anton* GTood Sweetnefs, you now have it, and mail go : 
 Be but fo merciful, before your wounding me 
 With fuch a mortal Weapon as Farezvel, 
 To let me murmur to your Virgin Ear, 
 What I was loth to lay on any Tongue ' 
 But. this mine own.
 
 US THE VlRGIN-MARf V& 
 
 Dor. If one immodeft: Accent 
 Fly out, I hate you everlaftingly. 
 Anton. My true Love dares not db iU 
 Mac. Hermes infpire thee i 
 
 They whifpering below, enter above Sapfitius, ftatber 
 to Antoninus, and Governor of Caefarea ; with him Ar- 
 temia the Princefs, Theophilus, Spunglus and Hir- 
 cius. 
 
 Spun. So, now, do you fee our Work is done ; the 
 Fifti you angle for is nibbling at the Hook, and therefore 
 untrufs the Cod-piece-point of our Reward, no mat- 
 ter if the Breeches of Confcience fall about our Heels. 
 
 Theoph. The Gold you earn is here ; dam up your 
 Mouths, and no Words of it. 
 
 Hir. No ; nor no Words from you of too much 
 damning neither. I know Women fell themfelve9 daily^ 
 and are hackney'd out for Silver ; why may not we, 
 then, betray a fcurvy Miftrefs for Gold ? 
 
 Spun. She fav'd us from the Gallows, and, only to 
 keep one Proverb from breaking his Neck, we'll hang 
 her. 
 
 Theoph. 'Tis well done ; go, go, y' are my fine white 
 Boys* 
 
 Spun. If your red Boys, 'tis well known more ill- 
 favoured Faces than ours are painted* 
 
 Sap. Thofe Fellows trouble us< 
 
 Theoph. Away, away ! 
 
 Hir. I to my fweet Placket. 
 
 Spun. And I to my full Pot, [Exeunt. 
 
 Anton. Come, let me tune you : Glaze not thus 
 your Eyes 
 With felf-love of a vow'd Virginity, 
 Make every Man your Glafs : You fee our Sex 
 Do never murder Propagation ; 
 We all defire your fweet Society, 
 And if you bar me from it, you do kill me, 
 And of my Blood are guilty. 
 
 Arttm O bafe Villain !
 
 TtlE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 129 
 
 Sap. Bridle your Rage, fvveet Princefs ! 
 
 Anton. Could not my Fortunes 
 (Kcar'd higher far than yours) be worthy of you ; 
 Methinks my dear Affection makes you mine. 
 
 Dor. Sir, for vour Fortunes, were they Mines of 
 Gold, ;, 
 He that I love is richer ; and for Worth, 
 You are to him lower than any Slave 
 Is to a Monarch. 
 
 Sap. So infolent, bafe Chriftian ? 
 
 Dor. Can I, with wearing out my Knees before him, 
 Get, you but be his Servant, you mall boait 
 You're equal to a King. 
 
 Sap. Confufion on thee, 
 For playing thus the lying Sorcerefs ! 
 
 Anton* Your Mocks are great ones; none beneath 
 the Sun 
 Will I be Servant to* On my Knees I beg it, 
 Pity me, wondrous Maid ! 
 
 Sap, I curfe thy Bafenefs ! 
 
 Thecph. Often to more. 
 
 Dor. O kneel not, Sir, to me I 
 
 Anton. This Knee is Emblem of an humbled Heart; 
 That Heart which tortur'd is with your Difdain, 
 Jultly for fcorning others ; even this Heart, 
 To which for Pity fuch a Princefs fues, 
 As in her Hand offers me all the World, 
 Great Ccjar'i Daughter. 
 
 Artemi Slave ! thou lieft. 
 
 Anton. Yet this 
 ^s Adamant to her, that melts to you 
 In Drops of Blood. 
 
 Tbeopb. A very Dog ! 
 
 Anton. Perhaps 
 'Tis my Religion makes you knit the Brow ; 
 Yet be you mine, and ever be your own : 
 I ne'er will fcrew your Confcience from that Power 
 On which you Chriftiana lean. 
 
 Sap. I can no longer 
 
 Vol. I. I
 
 j 5 o THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Fret out my Life with weeping at thee, Villain : Sir- 
 rah ! 
 Would, when I got thee, the high Thund'rer's Hand 
 Had ft ruck thee in the Womb. 
 
 Mac. We are betrayed. 
 
 Artem. Is that your Idol , Tray tor, which thou kneel'fl to, 
 Trampling upon my Beauty ? 
 
 Theopb. Sirrah ! Bandog ! 
 Wilt thou in Pieces tear our Jupiter 
 For her ? Our Mars for her ? Our Sol for her ? 
 A Whore ? A Hell-hound ? In this Globe of Brains, 
 Where a whole World of Furies for fuch Tortures 
 Have fought (as in a Chaos) which fhould exceed, 
 Thefe Nails mall grubbing lie from Skull to Skull, 
 To find one horrider than all,, for you, 
 You three. 
 
 Artem. Threaten not, but itrike, quick Vengeance 
 flies 
 Into thy Bofom, Caitiff! here all Love dies. [Exeunt. 
 
 Anton. O ! I am thunderftruck ! 
 We're both o'erwhelm'd. 
 
 Macrin. With one high-raging Billow. 
 
 Dor. You a Soldier, 
 And fink beneath the Violence of a Woman ! 
 
 Anton. A Woman ? A wrong'd Princefs ! from fucU 
 a Star 
 Blading with Fires of Hate, what can be look'd for, 
 But tragical Events ? My Life is now 
 The Subject of her Tyranny. 
 
 Dor. That Fear is bafe, 
 Of Death, when that Death doth but Life difplaee % 
 Out of her Houfe of Earth ; you only dread 
 The Stroke, and not what follows when you're dead ; 
 There is the Fear, indeed : Come, let your Eyes 
 Dwell where mine do, you'll fcorn their Tyrannies. 
 
 t *
 
 the virgin-Mart Yk. 13* 
 
 Enter belozv, Artemia, Sapritius, Theophilus, a Guards 
 Angclo comes, and is clofe 'by Do roth ea* 
 
 Artem. My Father's Nerves putVigour in mine Arm* 
 And I his Strength mufl ufe; becaufe I once 
 Shed Beams or Favour on thee, and, with the Lion, 10 
 Play'd with thee gently, when thou ilruck'ft my Heart, 
 I'll not infulton a bafe, humbled Prey, 
 By ling'ring out thy Terrors ; but with one Frown 
 Kill thee. Hence with 'em to Execution. 
 Seize him, but let ev'n Death itfelf be weary 
 In tort'rinp- hen I'll change thole Smiles to Shrieks, 
 Give the Fool, what fhe's proud of, Martyrdom ; 
 In Pieces rack that Bawd too. 
 
 Sap. Albeit the Reverence 
 I owe our Gods, and you, are in my Bofonij 
 Torrents lb ftrong, that Pity quite lies drown'd 
 From faving this young Man : Yet, when I fee 
 What Face Death gives him, and that a Thing within 
 
 me 
 Saith, 'tis my Son, I'm fore'd to be a Man$ 
 And grow fond of his Life, which thus I beg* 
 
 Artem. And I deny. 
 
 Anton. Sir, you difhonour me, 
 To fue for that which I diiclaim to have; 
 I fhall more Glory in my Sufferings gain, 
 Than you in giving Judgment ; fince I offer 
 My Blood up to your Anger i Nor do I kneel 
 To keep a wretched Life of mine from Ruin : 
 Preferve this Temple, builded fair as yours is, xt 
 
 10 With the Lion, means like the Lion. Mi Mi 
 
 i Preferve this Temple, luild It fair as yours is. 
 
 As this Line ftands, Antoninus'* Requeft is, not merely that Arte- 
 mia fhoul.i preferve Dorothea^ bat that (he Humid raiie her to a De- 
 gree of Splendour equal to her own. The Abfurdity of fuppofing 
 that he fliould makf* this Reqileir to a Pfincefs, who had condemned 
 him to Death, in Favour of her Rival, made me fuppofe that there 
 muftbe an Errour in thisPaflage, and fuggefted the Amendment. M. M 
 
 I 2
 
 1^2 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 And Crfir never went in greater Triumph, 
 Than I fliall to the Scatfokl. 
 
 Artem. Are you fo brave, Sir ? 
 Set forward to his Triumph, and letthofe two 
 Go curfing along with him. 
 
 Dor. No, but pitying, 
 (F/>r my Part, I) that you lofe ten Times more 
 ify tort'ring me, than I that dare your Tortures : 
 Thro' all the Army of my Sins, I've even 
 Labour'd to break, and cope with Death to th' Face. 
 The Vifage of a Hangman frights not me ; 
 The Sight of Whips, Racks, Gibbets, Axes, Fires, 
 Are Scaffoldings by which my Soul climbs up 
 To an eternal Habitation. 
 
 Theopk. Csejars imperial Daughter, hear me fpeak ! 
 Let not this Chriftian Thing, in this her Pageantry 
 Of proud deriding both our Gods and Cccjar, 
 Build to hcrfelf a Kingdom in her Death ; 
 Go, laughing from us ; no ; her bittcreft Torment 
 Shall be, to feel her Constancy beaten down, 
 The Bravery of her Refolution lie 
 Batter'd, by th' Argument, into fjch Pieces, 
 That fhe again mall (on her Belly) creep 
 To kifs the Pavements of our Panim Gods. 
 
 Artem. How to be done ? 
 
 Theoph. I'll fend my Daughters to her ; 
 And they mall turn her rocky Faith to Wax ; 
 Elfe fpit at me, let me be made your Slave, 
 And meet no Roman's, but a Villain's Grave. 
 
 Artem. Thy Priibner let her be, then ; and, Sapritius! 
 Your Son, and that ,2 be yours, Death mail be lent 
 To him that fuffers them, by Voice or Letters, 
 To greet each other. Rifle her Eitate ; 
 Chriftians to Beggary brought, grow defperate. 
 
 Dor. Still on the Bread of Poverty let me feed. 
 
 [Exeunt all but Angclo. 
 
 i Meaning Maerinns, whom before fie had called a Bawd. 
 M. M.
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 13$ 
 
 Ang. O ! my admired Miftrt-fs ! quench not out 
 The holy Fires within you, tho' Temptations 
 Show'r down upon you : Clafp thine Armour on : 
 Fight well ; and thou flialt fee, after thcfe Wars, 
 Thy Head wear Sun-beams, and thy Feet touch Stars. 
 
 Enter Hircius and Spungius. 
 
 i//V. How now, Angelo: how is it! Wnat Thread 
 
 fpins that Whore Fortune upon her Wheel now I 
 
 Spun. Come/la, Come/la, poor Knave ! 
 
 Hit: Com aporte vou y com a port e vou, me petit Garfon. 
 
 Spun, Me partha me Comrade, my Half-inch of Man's 
 Fleih, how run the Dice of this cheating World, ha ? 
 
 Aug* Too well on your Sides ; you are hid in Gold 
 o'er Head and Ears. 
 
 Hit: We thank our Fates, the Sign of the Gingle- 
 boys hangs at the Doors of our Pockets. 
 
 Spun. Who would think, that we coming forth of 
 the Arfe, as it were, or fag End of the World, mould 
 yet fee the Golden Age when io little Silver is ilirring ? 
 
 Hir. Nay, who can fay any Citizen is an Afs, tor 
 loading his own Back with Money till his Soul cracks 
 again, only to leave his Son like a gilded Coxcomb be- 
 hind him ? Will not any Fool take me for a wife Man 
 now, feeing me draw out of the Pit of my Trcafury 
 this little God with his Belly full of Gold ? 
 
 Spun. And this full of the fame Meat out of my 
 Ambrey. M 
 
 Ang. That Gold will melt to Poifon. 
 
 Spun. Poifon ! would it would, whole Pints for 
 Healths fhall down my Throat. 
 
 Hir. Gold Poifon ! there is never a Shc-thrafher in 
 Cdforea, that lives on the Flail of Moncv, will call it io. 
 
 Ang. Like Slaves you fold your Souls for golden 
 Drofs, 
 Bewitching her to Death, who ftept between 
 You and the Gallows. 
 
 3 A northern Phrafe, and fignifies a Cupboard. M, M. 
 
 I 3
 
 i 3 4 THE VIRGIN-M ART Y R. 
 
 Spun. It was an cafy Matter to fave us, fhe being fo 
 well back'd. 
 
 Hir. The Gallows and we fell out ; fo fhe did but 
 part us. 
 
 Ang. TheMifcry of that Miittvfs is mine own ; 
 She beggar'd, I left wretched. 
 
 Hir. I can but let my Nofe drop in Sorrow, with wet 
 Eyes for her. 
 
 Spun, The Petticoat of her Eftate is unlaced I con- 
 fefs. 
 
 Hir. Yes, and the Smock of her Charity is now all 
 to Pieces, 
 
 Aug. For Love you bear to her, for fome good Turns 
 Done you by me, give me one Piece of Silver. 
 
 Hir. How ! a Piece of Silver ! if thou werr an Angel 
 of Gold, I would not put thee into white Money, unlefs 
 I weighed thee ; and I weigh thee not a Rufh. 
 
 Spun. A Piece of Silver ! I never had but two Calves 
 in my Life, and thofe my Mother left me ; I will rather 
 part from the Fat of them, than from a Miiltard-token^ 
 Worth of Argent. 
 
 Hir. And lb, fweetNit ! we crawl from thee. 
 Spun. Adieu, Demi-dandiprat, adieu ! 
 Ang. Stav, one Word yet; you now are full of 
 Gold 
 
 Hir. I would be forry my Dog were fo full of the 
 Pox. 
 
 Spun. Or any Sow of mine of the Meazles either. 
 Ang. Go, go ! y' are Beggars both j you are not worth 
 that Leather on your Feet. 
 Hir. Away, away, Boy ! 
 
 Spun, Page, you do nothing but fet Patches on the 
 Soles of your Jefts. 
 
 Ang, I'm glad I try'd your Love, which (fee !) I want 
 not fo long as this is jfuil. 
 
 Both. And (o long as this fo long as this. 
 Hir, Spungii'.s ! you are a Pickpocket. 
 Spun, Hircius ! thou haft nimb'd fo long, as not fo 
 much Money is left, as will buy 3 Lpufe.
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 13$ 
 
 7lir. Thou art a Thief, and thou lieft in that Gut 
 thro* which thy Wine runs, if thou deniefl it. 
 
 Spun. Thou lieft deeper than the Bottom of mine en- 
 raged Pocket, if thou affronteft it. 
 
 An/. JNo Blows, no bitter Language ; all your Gold 
 gone ? 
 
 Spun* Can the Devil creep into one's Breeches ? 
 
 Hir. Yes, if his Horns once get into the Cod-piece. 
 
 Aug. Come, fighnot^ I fo little am in Love 
 With that whofe Lofs kills you, that, (fee) 'tis yours ; 
 All yours : Divide the Heap in equal Share, 
 So you will go along with me to Prifon, 
 And in our Miftrcfs' Sorrows bear a Part : 
 Say, will you ? 
 
 Both: Will we ?., 
 
 Spun. If ihe were going to Hanging, no Gallows 
 fhould part us. 
 
 Hir. Let us both be turn'd into a Rope of Onions 
 if we do. 
 
 Ang. Follow me, then : Repair your bad Deeds paft; 
 Happy are Men when their belt Deeds are laft. 
 
 Spun. True, Mailer Angela I Pray, Sir, lead the Way. 
 
 [Exit Ang. 
 
 Hir. Let him lead that Way, but follow thou me 
 this Way. 
 
 Spun. I live in a Gaol ? 
 
 Hir* Away and fhift for ourfelves : She'll do well 
 enough there ; for Prifoners are more hungry after 
 Mutton, than Catchpoles after Prifoners. 
 
 Spun. Let her flarve then if a whole Gaol will not 
 11 her Belly. [Exemt. 
 
 End of the Second Acf. 
 
 
 u
 
 136 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR, 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Sapritius, Theophilus, Prieft,Califte, d</Chriftet{i, 
 
 Sapritius. 
 
 Q I C K to the Death, I fear. 
 1^ Tfieoph. I meet your Sorrow, 
 With my true Feeling of it. 
 
 Sap. She's a Witch, 
 A Sorcerefs, Theophilus ! my Son 
 Is charm'd by her enchanting Eyes, and like 
 An Image made of Wax, her Beams of Beauty 
 Melt him to nothing ; all my Hopes in him 
 And all his gotten Honours, find their Grave 
 In his ftrange Dotage on her. Would, when ihfi, 
 He faw and lov'd her, that the Earth had open'd, 
 And fwallow'd both alive ! 
 
 Theoph. There's Hope left yet. 
 
 Sap. Not any : Tho' the Princefs were appeas'd, 
 All Title in her Love furrender'd up ; 
 Yet this coy Chriftian is fo tranfported 
 With her Religion, that unlefs my Son 
 (But let him perifh firft !) drink the fame Potion* 
 And be of her Belief, fhe'll not vouchsafe 
 To be his lawful Wife. 
 
 Prie/l. But, once remov'd 
 From her Opinion, as I reft aflur'd 
 The Reafons of thefe holy Maids will win her, 
 You'll find her tradable to any Thing 
 For your Content or his. 
 
 7heop.b. If Hie refufe it, 
 The Stygian Damps, breeding infectious Airs, 
 The Mandrake's Shrieks, or Bafililk's killing Eye, 
 The dreadful Lightning, that does crufh the Bones 
 And never finge the Skin, fhall not appear
 
 THE VIRGIN. MARTYR. 137 
 
 Lefs fatal to her, than my Zeal made hot 
 With Love unto my Gods. I have deferr'd it, 
 In Hopes to draw back this Apoftata, 
 (Which will be greater Honour than her Death,) 
 Unto her Father's Faith ; and to that End 
 Have brought my Daughters hither. 
 
 Cal. And we doubt not 
 To do what you defire. 
 
 Sap. Let her be fentfor. 
 Profper in your good Work ; and, were I noi 
 T* attend the Princefs, I would fee and hear 
 How you fucceed. 
 
 Theoph. I am commanded too ; 
 I'll bear you Company. 
 
 Sap. Give them your Ring, 
 To lead her as in Triumph, if they win her, 
 Before her Highnefs. [Exit Sap. 
 
 Theoph. Spare no Promifes, 
 Perfualions, or Threats, I do conjure you : 
 Jf you prevail, 'tis the moft glorious Work 
 You ever undertook. 
 
 h Enter Dorothea and Angelo 
 
 Priefl. She comes. 
 
 Theoph. We leave you ; 
 jBe conftant, and be careful. 
 
 [Exeunt Theoph. und Prieft. 
 
 Cal. We are forry 
 To meet you under Guard. 
 
 Dor. But I more giiev'd 
 You are at Liberty ; lb well I love you, 
 That I could wifti, for fuch a Caufe as mine, 
 You were my Fellow-prifoners : Prithee, Angela, 
 Reach us foms Chairs. Tleafe you fit ? 
 
 &T l 4 Enter Dorothea and Angelo. 
 
 The enfuing Scene is moft finely wrote and excellent in its Kind, 
 it makes us ample Recompenfe for the unmeaning Ribaldry and Non- 
 fenfe between Hirctni and Spnngim.
 
 138 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Cal. We thank you : 
 Our Vifit is for Love ; Love to your Safety. 
 
 Chrift. Our Conference mult be private ; pray you, 
 therefore, 
 Command your Boy to leave us. 
 
 Dor. You may truit him 
 With any Secret that concerns my Life ; 
 Falfehoodand he are Strangers : Had you, Ladies, 
 Been blefs'dwith fuch a Servant, you had never 
 Forfookthat Way (your Journey even half ended) 
 That leads to Joys eternal. In the Place 
 Of ldofe lafcivious Mirth, he would have ftirr'd you 
 To holy Meditations ; and fo far 
 He is from Flattery, he that would have told you, 
 Your Pride being at the Height, how miferable 
 And wretched Things you were, that, for an Hour 
 Of Pleafure here, have made a defperate Sale 
 Of all your Right in Happincfs heareafter. 
 He muft not leave me ; without him I fall ; 
 In this Life he's my Servant ; in the other, 
 A wifh'd Companion. 
 
 Ang. 'Tis not in the Devil, 
 Nor all his wicked Arts, to fhake fuch Goodnefs. \Afidt* 
 
 Dor. But you were fpeaking, Lady. 
 
 CaL As a Friend 
 And Lover of your Safety ; and I pray you 
 So to receive it ; and, if you remember 
 How near in Love our Parents were, t,hat we 
 Ev'n from the Cradle, were brought up together, 
 Our Amity encreafing with our Years, 
 We cannot ftand fufpe&ed. 
 
 Dor. To the Purpofe. 
 
 Cal. We come, then, as good Angels, Dorothea, 
 To make you happy ; and the Means fo eafy, 
 That, be not you an Enemy to yourfelf, 
 Already you enjoy it. 
 
 Chrift* Lookon us, 
 Ruin'd as you are, once, and brought unto it 
 By your Perluafion.
 
 THE VIRG IN-M ARTYR. 139 
 
 CaL But what follow'd, Lady ? 
 Leaving thofe Bleffings which our Gods give freely, 
 And fhowr'd upon us with a prodigal Hand ? 
 As to be noble bom, Youth, Beauty, Wealth, 
 And the free Ufe of thefe without Controul, 
 Check, curb, or flop, (fuch is our Law's Indulgence!) 
 All Happinefs forfook us ; Bonds and Fetters 
 For am'rous Twines ; the Rack and Hangman's Whips 
 In place of choice Delights ; our Parents' Curfes 
 Inltead of Bleffings ; Scorn, Neglecl, Contempt 
 Fell thick upon us. 
 
 Chrift. This confider'd wifely, 
 We made a fair Retreat ; and reconciled 
 To our forfaken Gods, we live again 
 In all Profperity. 
 
 CaL By our Example, 
 Bequeathing Mifery to fuch as- love it, 
 Learn to be happy. The Chriflian Yoke's too heavy 
 For fuch a dainty Neck ; it was fram'd rather 
 To be the Shrine of Venus, or a Pillar 
 More precious than Cryftal, to fupport 
 Our Cupid's Image. Our Religion, Lady, 
 Is but a varied Pleafure ; yours a Toil 
 Slaves would ftuink under. 
 
 Dor. Have you not cloven Feet ? Are you not Devils? 
 Dare any fay fo much, or dare I hear it 
 Without a virtuous and religious Anger ? 
 Now, to put on a Virgin Modefty, 
 Or Maiden Silence, when his Power is queftion'd 
 That is Omnipotent, were a greater Crime 
 Than in a bad Caufe to be impudent. 
 Your Gods ! your Temples ! Brothel-houfes rather, 
 Or wicked Actions of the word of Men 
 Purfu'd and praclis'd ; your religious Rites ! 
 Oh ! call them rather juggling Myfleries, 
 The Baits and Nets of Hell : Your Souls the Prey 
 For which the Devil angles ; falfe Pleafure 
 A fteep Defcent, by which you headlong fall. 
 Jntp eternal Torments.
 
 i4o THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Cal. Do not tempt 
 Our powerful Gods. 
 
 Dor. Which of your powerful Gods ? 
 Your Gold, your Silver, Brafs, or Wooden ones ? 
 That cannot do me Hurt nor protect you ? 
 Moll pitied Women ! will you facririce 
 To fuch, or call them Gods orGoddefles, 
 Your Parents would difdain to be the fame, 
 Or you yourfelves ? O blinded Ignorence ! 
 Tell me Califte ! by the Truth I charge you, 
 Or any Thing you hold more dear, would you-, 
 To have him deify'd to Pofterity, 
 Defire your Father an Adulterer, 
 A Ravilher, almoit a Parricide, 
 A vile, inceftuous Wretch ? 
 
 Cal. That Piety 
 And Duty anfwer for me. 
 
 Dor. Or you, Chrijieta! 
 To be heareafter regifter'd a Goddefs, 
 Give your chafte Body up to the Embraces, 
 Of goatifh Lull ? Have it writ on your Forehead, , 
 This is the common Whore, the Proftitute, 
 The Miftrefs in the Art of Wantonnefs ; 
 Knows every Trick and Labyrinth of Deiires 
 That are immodeil ? 
 
 Chrift. You judge better of me, 
 Or my Affection is ill plac'd on you ; 
 Shall I turn Strumpet ? 
 
 Dor. No, I think you would not ; 
 Yet Venus, whom you worfhip, was a Whore ; 
 Flora the Foundress of the publick Stews, 
 And hath for that her Sacrifice : Your great God, 
 Your Jupiter, a loofe Adulterer, 
 Inceftuous with his Sifter : Read but thofe 
 That have canoniz'd them, you'll find them worfe 
 Than, in chafte Language, I can fpeak them to you. 
 Are they immortal then that did partake 
 Of human Weaknefs, and had ample Share 
 In Men's molt bafe Affections ? Subject to 
 Unchafte Loves, Anger, Bondage,Wounds, as Men are
 
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR, 141 
 
 Here, Jupiter, to ferve his Lull, turn'd Bull, 
 The Shape indeed in which he ftole Enropa; 
 ISeptune, for Gain, builds up the Walls of Troy 
 As a Day-labourer ; Apollo keeps 
 Admetu? Sheep for Bread ; the Lemnian Smith 
 Sweats at the Forge for hire ; Prometheus here, 
 With his Hill-growing Liver, feeds the Vulture ; 
 Saturn Bound fad in Hell with Adamant Chains ; 
 And thoufands more, on whom abufed Errour 
 Beflows a Deity : Will you then, dear Sifters, 
 For I would have you fuch, pay your Devotions 
 To Things of lefs Power than yourfelves ? 
 
 Cal. We worfhip 
 Their good Deeds in their Images. 
 
 Dor, By whom fafhioned ? 
 By finful Men. I'll tell you a fliort tale, 
 Nor can you but confefs it was a true one. 
 A King of jEgypt, being to eret 
 The Image of Ofiris, whom they honour, 
 Took from the Matrons' Necks the richeft Jewels, 
 And pureft Gold, as the Materials 
 To finiihup his Work ; which perfected, 
 With all Solemnity he fet it up, 
 To be ador'd, and ferv'd himfelf, his Idol, 
 Defiring it to give him Vidtory 
 Againft his Enemies : But, being overthrown, 
 Enrag'd againft his God (thefe are fine Gods, 
 Subject to human Fur} 7 !) he took down 
 The fenfelefs Thing, and melting it again, 
 He made a Bafon, in which Eunuchs walh'd 
 His Concubines' Feet ; and for this fordid Ufa 
 Some Months it ferv'd : His Miftrefs proving falfe, 
 As mod indeed do fo, and Grace concluded 
 Between him and the Priefts, of the fame Bafon 
 He made his God again : Think, think of this, 
 And then confider, if all worldly Honours, 
 Or Pleafures that do leave lharp Stings behind them, 
 Have Pow'r to win fuch as have reafonable Souls 
 To put their Truft in Drofs.
 
 i42 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Cal. Oh, that I had been born 
 Without a Father ! 
 
 Chr'ift. Piety to him 
 Hath ruin'd us for ever. 
 
 Dor. Think not fo ; 
 You may repair all yet : the Attribute 
 That fpeaks the Godhead mod, is merciful. 
 Revenge is proper to the Fiends you worfhip, 
 Yet cannot ftrike without his Leave. You weep, 
 Oh ! 'tis a heav'nly Show'r; celeftial Balm 
 To cure your wounded Confcience ! let it fall, 
 Fall thick upon it ; and, when that is fpent, 
 I'll help it with another of my Tears ; 
 And may your true Repentance prove the Child 
 Of my true Sorrow ; never Mother had 
 A Birth fo happy. 
 
 Cal. We are caught ourfelves, 
 That came to take you ; and, aflur'd of Conquerl, 
 We are your Captives. 
 
 Dor. And in that you triumph ; 
 Your Victory had been eternal Lofs, 
 And this your Lofs immortal Gain : Fix here, 
 And you fhall feel yourfelves inwardly arm'd 
 'Gainft Tortures, Death and Hell : But, take Heed, 
 
 Silters ! 
 That, or thro' Weaknefs, Threats, or mild Perfua- 
 
 fions, 
 Tho' of a Father, you fall not into 
 A fecond and a worfe Apoflacy. 
 
 Ceil. Never, oh ! never ; fteel'd by your Example, 
 We dare the word of Tyranny. 
 
 Chr'ift. Here's our Warrant ; 
 You lhall along and witnefs it. 
 
 Dor. Be confirm'd then, 
 And reft affur'd, the more you fuffer here, 
 The more your Glory, you toHeav'n more dear. 
 
 [Exeunt.
 
 THE VIRGIN-M ART Y R. 143 
 
 S C E N E II. 
 
 Enter Artemia, Sapritius, Theophilus, and Harpax, 
 
 Artem. Sapritius, tho' your Son deferves no Pitjv 
 We grieve his Sicknefs : His Contempt of us 
 We caft behind us, and look back upon 
 His Service done to Qcfar ; that weighs down 
 Our juft Difpleafure. If his Malady- 
 Have Growth from his Reftraint, or that you think 
 His Liberty can cure him, let him have it : 
 Say, we forgive him freely. 
 
 Sap. Your Grace binds us 
 Ever your humbleft VaiTals. 
 
 Art em. Ufe all Means 
 For his Recovery ; tho' yet I love him, 
 1 will not force Affection. If the Chriftian, 
 Whofe Beauty hath out-rival 'd me, be won 
 To be of our Belief, let him enjoy her, 
 That all may know, when the Caufe wills, I can 
 Command my own Defires. 
 
 T/jeoph. Be happy, then. 
 My Lord Sapritius I am confident, 
 Such Eloquence and fweet Perfuafion dwells 
 Upon my Daughters' Tongues, that they will work her 
 To any Thing they pleafe. 
 
 Sap. I wilh they may : 
 Yet 'tis no eafy Tafk to undertake, 
 To altera perverfe and obftinate Woman. [Afimit zvithhu 
 
 Art em. What means this Shout ! [Loud Mi'fuk. 
 
 Sap. 'Tis feconded with Mulick, 
 Triumphant Mufick. Ha ! [Enter Sempronius. 
 
 Semp. My Lord, your Daughters, 
 The Pillars of our Faith, having converted, 
 (For lb Report gives out) the Chrftian Lady, 
 The Image of great Jupiter born before them, 
 Sue for Accefs. 
 
 Theopb. My. Soul divin'd as much, 
 Bleft be the Time when firfl they law this Light !
 
 144 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Their Mother, when flic bore them to fupport 
 My feeble Age, fill'd not my longing Heart 
 With fo much Joy, as they in this good Work 
 Have thrown upon me. 
 
 Enter Prieft with the Image of Jupiter, Incenfe and Cm* 
 fers, folhzvcd by Califte and Chrifteta, leading Doro- 
 thea. 
 
 Welcome, oh ! thrice welcome, 
 Daughters, both of my Body and my Mind ? 
 Let me embrace in you my Blifs, my Comfort ; 
 And, Dorothea, now more welcome too, 
 Than if you ne'er had fallen off ! I'm ravifh'd 
 With the Excefs of Joy fpeak, happy Daughters, 
 The bleft Event. 
 
 CaL We never gain'd lb much 
 By any Undertaking. 
 
 Theoph* O my dear Girl ! 
 Our Gods reward thee. 
 
 Dor. Nor was ever Time 
 On my Part better fpent. 
 
 Chrift. We are all now 
 Of one Opinion. 
 
 Theoph. My beft Chrifteta f 
 Madam, if ever you did Grace to Worth, 
 Vouchfafe your princely Hands. 
 
 Artem. Mofl willingly 
 
 Do you refute it ? 
 
 Cal. Let us firft deferve it. 
 
 Theoph. My own Child flill : Here fet our God : prepare 
 The Incenfe quickly : Come, fair Dorothea, 
 I will myfelf fupport you ; now kneel down, 
 And pay your Vows to Jupiter. 
 
 Dor. I mall do it 
 Better by their Example. 
 
 Theoph. They fliall guide you ; 
 They are familiar with the Sacrifice. 
 Forward, my Twins of Comfort, and, to teach her, 
 Make a joint Offering.
 
 - 
 
 THE VIRGIN-M ARTYR. 145 
 
 Chrift. Thus [They both /pit at the Image, 
 
 CaL And thus throw it dozvn andfpurn it. 
 
 Harp. Prophane, 
 And impious ! Stand you now like a Statue ? 
 Are you the Champion of the Gods ? Where is 
 Your holy Zeal ? Your Anger } 
 
 Theoph. I am blafted ; 
 And, as my Feet were rooted here, I find 
 I have no Motion ; I would I had no Sight too ; 
 Or, if my Eyes can ferve to any other Ufe, 
 Give me, (thou injur'd Power !) a Sea of Tears, 
 To expiate this Madnefs in my Daughters ; 
 For, being themfelves, they would have trembled at 
 
 So blafphemous a Deed in any other 
 
 For my Sake, hold a while thy dreadful Thunder, 
 And give me Patience to demand a Reafon 
 For this accurfed Adt. 
 
 Dor. 'Twas bravely done. 
 
 Theoph. Peace, damn'd Enchantrefs, Peace ! I mould 
 look on you 
 With Eyes made red with Fury, and my Hand, 
 That makes with Rage, fhould much aut-ftrip my . 
 
 Tongue, 
 And feal my Vengeance on your Hearts ; but Nature 
 To you that have fall'n once, bids me again 
 To be a Father. Oh ! how durft you tempt 
 The Anger of great Jove ? 
 
 Dor. A lack, poor Jove ! 
 He is no Swaggerer, how fmug lie ftands, 
 He'll take a Kick, or any Thing.r 
 
 Sap. Stop her Mouth. 
 
 Dor. It is the antient'ft 5 Godling : Do not fear him, 
 He would not hurt the Thief that ftole away 
 Two of his golden Locks ; indeed he could not ; 
 And ftill it is the fame quiet Thing, 
 
 15 It is the antienfjl Godling : 
 
 It is the Patience, not the Antiquity, of the Godling that DerBr 
 thea extols. M. M y 
 
 Vol. L K
 
 r 4 6 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR, 
 
 Thcoph. Blafphemer ! 
 Ingenious Cruelty mall punifh this ; 
 Thou art pad Hope ; But for you, dear Daughters^ 
 Again bewitch'd, the Dew of mild Forgivenefs 
 May gently fall, provided you deferve it 
 With true Contrition : Be yourfelves again ; 
 Sue to th' offended Deity. 
 
 Chrijl. Not to be 
 The Miftrefs of the Earth. 
 
 Cal. I will not offer 
 A Grain of Incenfe to it, much lefs kneel ; 
 Nor look on it, but with Contempt and Scorn^ 
 To have a thoufand Years conferr'd upon me 
 Of worldly Bleffings. We profefs ourfelves 
 To be, like Dorothea, Chriitians, 
 And owe her for that Happinefs. 
 
 ' Theoph. My Ears 
 Receive^ in hearing this, all deadly Charm*! 
 Powerful to make Man wretched. 
 
 Art. Are thefe they 
 You bragg'd could convert others ? 
 , Sap, That want Strength 
 To ftand themfelves ? 
 
 Harp, Your Honour is engag'd ; 
 The Credit of our Caufe depends upon it ; 
 Something you muft do fuddenly. 
 
 Theoph. And I will. 
 
 Harp. They merit Death ; but, falling by your Hand 
 'Twill be recorded for a juft Revenge, 
 And holy Fury in you. 
 
 Theoph: Do not blow 
 The Furnace of a Wrath thrice hot already ; 
 JFAna is in my Breaft, Wildfire burns here, 
 Which only Blood muft quench Incenled Power ! 
 Which from my Infancy I have ador'd, 
 Look down with favourable Beams upon 
 The Sacrifice (tho' not allow'd thy Prieft) 
 Which I will offer to thee ; and be pleas'd 
 (My fiery Zeal inciting me to act it) 
 To call that Juftice, others may flile Murther,
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 147 
 
 Come, you accurfed ! thus by the Hair I drag you 
 
 Before this holy Altar ; thus look on you 
 
 Lefs pitiful than Tygers to their Prey : 
 
 And thus with mine own Hand I take that Life 
 
 Which I gave to you. [Kills them. 
 
 Dor. O moft cruel Butcher ! 
 
 Tbeoph. My Anger ends not here: Hell's dreadful Porter, 
 Receive into thy ever-open Gates 
 Their damned Souls, and let the Furies' Whips 
 On them alone be wafted ; and, when Death 
 Clofes thefe Eyes, 'twill be Elijium to me, 
 To hear their Shrieks and Howlings ! Make me, Piute, 
 Thy Inftrument to furnifh thee with Souls 
 Of that accurfed Sed: ; nor let me fall, 
 Till my fell Vengeance hath confum'd them all. 
 
 [Exit with Harpax, hugging him. 
 
 Enter Artemia, laughing. 
 
 Art. 'Tis a brave Zeal. 
 
 Dor. Oh, call him back again ! 
 Call back your Hangman ! here's one Prifoner left 
 To be the Subject of his Knife. 
 
 Art. Not fo ; 
 We are not fo near reconcil'd unto thee; 
 Thou fhalt not perim fuch an eafy Way : 
 Be lhe your Charge, Sapritius, now ; and fufTer 
 None to come near her, till we have found out 
 Some Torments worthy of her. 
 
 Ang. Courage, Miftrefs ; 
 Thefe Martyrs but prepare your glorious Fate } 
 You fhall exceed them, and not imitate. [Exeunt. 
 
 Enter Spungius and Hircius, ragged, at fcveral Doors. 
 
 Hir. Spungius ! 
 
 Spun* My fine Rogue, how is it? How goes this 
 totter'd World ? 
 
 Hir. Haft any Money ? 
 
 K 2
 
 t48 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Spun, Money ? No : The Tavern Ivy clings about 
 my Money and kills it. Haft thou any Money ? 
 
 Hir, No : My Money is a mad Bull ; and, finding 
 anv Gap opened, away it runs. 
 
 Spun. I fee then a Tavern and a Bawdy-houfe have 
 Faces much alike ; the one hath red Grates next Door, 
 the other hath Peeping-holes within Doors : 1 he Ta-, 
 vern hath evermore a Bum, the Bawdy-houfe fometimes; 
 neither Hedge nor Bufh. From a Tavern a Man comes 
 reeling ; from a Bawdy-houfe, not able to Hand. In 
 the Tavern you are cozen'd with paltry Wine ; in a 
 Bawdy-houfe by a painted Whore : Monev may have 
 Wine, and a WTipre will have Money ; but neither can 
 you cry, Drawer, you Rogue, or Keep Door, rotten Bazvd, 
 without a Silver Whittle : We are juftly plagued, 
 therefore, for running from our Miitrefs. 
 
 Hir, Thou didft ; I did not : Yet I had run too, but 
 that one gave me Turpentine Pills, and that ftaid my 
 running. 
 
 Spun, Well ! the Thread of my Life is drawn thro* 
 the Needle of Necefiity, whofe Eye, looking upon my 
 loufy Breeches, cries out it cannot mend 'em ; which 
 fo pricks the Linings of my Body (and thofe are, Hearts, 
 Lights, Lungs, Guts, and Midriff,) that I beg on my 
 Knees, to have Atropos, the Taylor to the Deflinies, to 
 take her Sheers, and cut my Thread in two, or to heat 
 the Iron Goofe of Mortality, and fo prefs me to Death. 
 
 Hir. Sure thy Father was fome Botcher, and thy hun- 
 gry Tongue bit of thefe Shreds of Complaints, to patch 
 up the Elbows of thy nitty Eloquence. 
 
 Spun. And what was thy Father ? 
 
 Hir, A low-minded Cobler : A Cobler, whofe Zeal 
 fet many a Woman upright, the Remembrance of whofe 
 Awl (I now having nothing) thrufts fuch fcuryy Stitches 
 into my Soul that the Heel of my Happinefs is gone 
 awry. 
 
 Spun, Pity that e'er thou trod'ft thy Shoe awry. 
 
 Hir, Long I cannot laft ; for all fowterly Wax of 
 Comfort melting away, and Mifery taking the Length
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR: 149 
 
 <5f my Foot, it boots not me to fue for Life, when all 
 my Hopes are feam-rent, and go wet-ihod. 
 . Spun. Thi mews th'art a Cobler's Son, by going 
 thro' Stitch : O Hifcius ! would thou and I were lb 
 happy to be Coblers. 
 
 . Hir. So would I ; for both of us being weary of bur 
 Lives fhould then be fure of Shoemakers' Ends, 
 
 Spun, I fee the Beginning of my End, for I am al- 
 molt flarv'd. 
 
 Hir. So am not I ; but I am more than famihYd. 
 
 Spun, All the Members in my Body are in a Rebel- 
 lion one againft another. 
 
 Hir. So are mine ; and nothing but a Cook, being a 
 Conftable, can appeafe them, prelenting to my. Nofe, 
 inftead of his painted Staff*, a Spit full of roaft Meat. 
 
 Spun. But in this Rebellion, what Uproars do they 
 make ! my Belly cries to my Mouth, Why doft not gape 
 and feed me ? 
 
 Hir, And my Mouth fets out a Throat to my Hand, 
 Why doft not thou lift up Meat, and cram my Chops 
 with it ? , 
 
 Spun, Then my Hand hath a fling at mine Eyes, be- 
 fcaufe they look not out, and mark for Victuals. 
 
 Hir, Which mine eyes feeing, full of Tears, cry 
 aloud, and curfe my Feet, for not ambling up and down 
 to feed Cohn, iithence if good Meat be in any Place, 
 'tis known my Feet can fmell. 
 
 Spun. But then my Feet, like lazy Rogues, lie Hill, 
 and had rather do nothing, than run to and fro to pur- 
 chafe any Thing. 
 
 Hir. Why, among fo many Millions of People, mould 
 thou and I only be miferable Tatter-de-mallions, Raga- 
 muffins, and loufy Defperadoes ? 
 
 Spun, Thou art a mere I-am-an-no, I-am-an-as : Con- 
 fider the whole World, and 'tis as we are. 
 
 Hir, Loufyj beggarly, thou Whore-ion Afa Fcetlda ? 
 
 Spun. Worie, all tottering, all out of Frame, thou 
 Foliamini ! 
 
 k 3
 
 i 5 o THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Hir. As how, Arfenick ? Come, make the World 
 fmart. 
 
 Spun. Old Honour goes on Crutches ; Beggary rides 
 caroched ; honelt Men make Feafts ; Knaves lit at Ta- 
 bles; Cowards are lapp'd in Velvet; Soldiers (as we) 
 in Rags ; Beauty turns Whore ; Whore, Bawd ; and 
 both die of the Pox : Why then, when all the World 
 Humbles, ihould thou and I walk upright ? 
 
 Hir. Stop, look ! who's yonder ? 
 
 Enter Angelo. 
 
 Spun, Fellow Angelo! How does my little Man? well ? 
 
 Ang. Yes ; and would you did fo. Where are your 
 Cloathes ? 
 
 Hir, Cloathes ? You fee every Woman almoft go in 
 her loofe Gown, and why fliould not we have our 
 Clothes loofe ? 
 
 Spun, Would they were loofe ! 
 
 Ang. Why, where are they ? 
 
 Spun. Where many a Velvet Cloak, I warrant, at 
 this Hour, keeps them Company ; they are pawned to 
 a Broker. 
 
 Ang, Why pawned ? Where's all the Gold I left with 
 you > 
 
 Hir, The Gold ? we put that into a Scrivener's 
 Hands, and he hath cozened us. 
 
 Spun. And therefore, I pray thee, Angelo, if thou hall 
 another Purfe, let it be confiscate, and brought to De- 
 valtation. 
 
 jkg. Are you made all of Lies ? I know which Way 
 Your guilt-winged Pieces flew ; I will no more 
 Be mock'd by you : Be forry for your Riots, 
 Tame your wild Flelh by Labour : Eat the Bread 
 Got with hard Hands : Let Sorrow be your Whip, 
 To draw Drops of Repentance from your Heart. 
 When I read this Amendment in your Eyes, 
 You lhall not want ; till then, my Pity dies. [Exit*
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. tji 
 
 $pun. Is it not a Shame, that this fcurvy Puerilis 
 fliould give us Leflbns ? 
 
 Hir. I have dwelt, thou know'ft, a long Time in the 
 Suburbs of Confcience, and they are ever bawdy ; but 
 now my Heart ihall take a Houfe within the Walls of 
 Honefty. 
 
 Enter Harpax, aloof. 
 
 Spun. O you Drawers of Wine ! draw me no more 
 to- the Bar of Beggary ; the Sound of Score a Pottle of 
 Sack is worfc than the Noife of a fcoldirtg Oyfter- wench, 
 or two Cats incorporating. 
 
 Harp. This muft not be I do not like when Con- 
 fcience 
 Thaws; keep her frozen ftill : How now, my Maf- 
 
 ters ? 
 Dejected ? drooping? drown'd in Tears ? Cloathes torn ? 
 Lean, and ill colour'd ? fighing ? Where's the Whirl- 
 wind 
 Which raifeth all thefe Mifchiefs ? I have feen you 
 Drawn better on't. O ! but a Spirit told me 
 You both would come to this, when you thiuft 
 Yourfelves into the Service of that Lady 
 Who ihortly now muft die. Where's now her Praying? 
 What Good got you by wearing out your Feet, 
 To run on fcurvy Errands to the Poor, 
 And to bear Money to a Sort of Rogues, 
 And loufy Prifoners ? 
 
 Hir. Pox on 'em, I never profper'd fince I did it. 
 
 Spun. Had I been a Pagan ftill, I could not have fpit 
 white for Want of Drink ; but come to any Vintner 
 now, and bid him truft me, becaufe I turn'd Chriftian, 
 and he cries, Pho ! 
 
 Harp. Y'are rightly ferv'd ; before that peevim Lady 
 Had to do with you, Women, Wine and Money 
 Flow'd in Abundance with you, did it not ? 
 ' Hir. Oh I thofe Days ! thofe Days ! 
 
 K 4
 
 152 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Harp. Beat not your Breads, tear not your Hair irf 
 Madnefs, 
 Thofe Days fhall come again, be rul'd by me ; 
 And better, mark me, better. 
 
 Spun. I have feen you, Sir L as I take it, an Afiten 
 dant on the Lord Theophilus. 
 
 Harp. Yes, yes ; in Shew his Servant : But hark 
 hither ! Take heed no Body Hflcnsr 
 
 Spun. Not a Moufe flirs. 
 Harp. I am a Prince difguis'd. 
 
 Hir. Difguis'd ? how ? drunk ? 
 
 Harp. Yes, my fine Boy ! I'll drink too, and bz 
 drunk ; 
 I am a Prince, and any Man by me, 
 (Let him but keep my Rules) mall foon grow rich, 
 Exceeding rich, moft infinitely rich ; 
 He that ihall ferve me, is not ftarv'd from Pleafure$ 
 As other poor Knaves are ; no, take their Fill. 
 
 Spun. But that, Sir ! we're fo ragged 
 
 Harp. You'll fay you'd ferve me. 
 
 Hh\ Before any Mailer under the Zodiac. 
 
 Harp. For Cloathes no Matter ; I've a Mind to both* 
 And one Thing I like in you ; now that you fee 
 The Bonfire of your Lady's State burnt out, 
 You give it over, do you not ? 
 
 Hr. Let her be hang'd I 
 
 Spun. And pox'd I 
 
 Harp. Why, now ye 're mine t 
 Come, let my Bofom touch you. 
 
 Spun. We have Bugs, Sir I 
 
 Harp. There's Money j fetch your Clothes home - 
 There's for you. 
 
 Hir. Avoid, Vermin ! give over our Miftrefs ! a Maa 
 cannot profper worfe, if he ferve the Devil. 
 
 Harp. How ? the Devil ! I'll tell you what now of 
 the Devil : 
 He's no fuch horrid Creature ; cloven-footed, 
 Black, Saucer-ey'd, his Noitrils breathing Fire,- 
 As thefe lying CbrUtians make him*. 
 
 Both., No h
 
 THE VlkGIN-M ART Y fc. 153 
 
 Harp, He's more loving to Man, than Man to Man 
 is. 
 
 Hir. Is he fo ? Would we two might come acquain- 
 ted with him ! 
 
 Harp. You mall : He's a wondrous good Fellow, 
 loves a Cup of Wine, a Whore, any Thing; if you 
 have Money, it's ten to one but I'll bring him to feme 
 Tavern or other to you* 
 
 Spun. I'll befpeak the beft Room in the Houfe for 
 him. 
 
 Harp. Some People he cannot endure". 
 
 Hit: We'll give him no fuch Caufe. 
 
 Harp. He hates a civil Lawyer, as a Soldier doe'i 
 Peace* 
 
 Spun. How a Commoner ? t5 
 
 Harp. Loves him from the Teeth outward. 
 
 Spun. Pray, my Lord and Prince, let me encounter 
 you with one foolifti Queflion : Doth the Devil eat any 
 Mace in his Broth ? 
 
 Harp. Exceeding much, when his burning Fever 
 takes him ; and then he hath the Knuckles of a Bailiff 
 boiled to his Breakfaft. 
 
 Hir. Then, my Lord ! he loves a Catchpole, doth 
 he not ? 
 
 Harp. As a Bear-ward doth a Dog. A Catchpole * 
 he hath fworn, if ever he dies, to make a Serjeant his 
 Heir, and a Yeoman his Overfeer, 
 
 Spun. How if he come to any great Man's Gate, will 
 the Porter let him come in, Sir ? 
 
 Harp. Oh ! he loves Porters of great Men's Gates, 
 becauie they are ever fo near the Wicket. 
 
 Hir. Do not they whom he makes much on, for a'U 
 his ftroaking their Cheeks, lead hellilh Lives under 
 him ? 
 
 Harp. No, no, no, no; he will be damn'd before he 
 hurts any Man : Do but you (when you are throughly 
 acquainted with him) afk for any Thing, fee if it doth 
 not come. 
 
 6 That is^ a eogimou Lawyer. M. M.
 
 i 5 4 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Spun. Any Thing? 
 
 Harp. Call for a delicate rare Whore, ftie is brought 
 
 you. 
 
 Hir. Oh ! my Elbow itches . Will the Devil keep 
 the Door ? 
 
 Harp. Be drunk as a Beggar, he helps you home ? 
 
 Spun. O my fine Devil ! fome Watchman, I warrant; 
 I wonder who is his Conftable. 
 
 Harp. Will you lwear, roar, fwagger ? he claps 
 you 
 
 Hir. How ? on the Chaps ? 
 
 Harp. No, on the Shoulder ; and cries, O, my brave 
 Boys ! Will any of you kill a Man ? 
 
 Spun. Yes, yes ; I, I. 
 
 Harp. What is his Word? hang! hang! 'tis no- 
 thing : Or flab a Woman ? 
 
 Hir. Yes, yes ; I, I. 
 
 Harp. Here is the worft Word he gives you ; a Pox 
 on't, goon. 
 
 Hir. O inveigling Rafcal ! I am ravifh'd. 
 
 Harp. Go, get your Clothes; turn up your Glafs of 
 Youth, 
 And let the Sands run merrily ; nor do I care 
 From what a lavifh Hand your Money flies, 
 So you give none away to feed Beggars 
 
 Hir., Hang 'em. 
 
 Harp. And to the fcrubbing Poor* 
 
 Hr. I'll fee 'em hang'd firft. 
 
 Harp. One Service you mufl do me; 
 
 Both. Any Thing. 
 
 Harp. Your Miftrefs Dorothea, ere fhe fuffers, 
 Is to be put to Tortures : Have you Hearts 
 To tear her into Shrieks ? To fetch her Soul 
 Up in the Pangs of Death, yet not to die? 
 
 Hir. Suppofe this the, and that I had no Hands, 
 here's my Teeth. 
 
 Spun. Suppofe this flie, and that I had no Teeth, 
 here's my Nails. 
 
 Hir* But will not you be there, Sir ?
 
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 155 
 
 Harp. No, not for Hills of Diamonds > the GrancJ 
 Mailer 
 Who fchools her in the Chriftian Difcipline, 
 Abhors my Company : Should I be there, 
 You'd think all Hell broke loofe, we mould fo quarrel; 
 Ply you this Bufinefs ; he, who her Flelh fpares, 
 Is loft, and in my Love never more mares. [Exit. 
 
 Spun. Here's a Matter, you Rogue ! 
 
 Hir. Sure he cannot choofe but have a horrible Num- 
 ber of Servants. [Exeunt* 
 
 End of the Third M* 
 
 A C T IV. S C E N E I. 
 
 A Bed thrufl out, Antoninus upon it Jick, with Phficiant 
 about him ; Sapritius and Macrinus. 
 
 Sapritius. 
 
 
 o 
 
 YOU, that are half Gods, lengthen that Life r 
 Their Deities lend us, turn o'er all the Volumes 
 0f your myfterious jEfculapian Science, 
 
 3" 1 7 O you, that are half Gods, lengthen that Life 
 Their Deities lend us, v5V. 
 
 MaJJingcr, in his Duke of Milan, ha3 a Paflage that bears a great 
 Sjmilhude to this, which I have here fet down. 
 
 -O you earthy Gods, 
 
 You fecond Natures, that from your great Matter 
 
 (Who join'd the Limbs of torn Hypolitus, 
 
 And drew upon himfelf the Thunderer's Envy) 
 
 Are taught thofe hidden Secrets that reftore 
 
 To Life Death- wounded Men, you have aPatieat 
 
 On whom t' exprefs the Excellence of Art, 
 
 Will bind e'en Heaven your Debtor, though it pleafcs 
 
 To make your Hands the Organs of a Work 
 
 The Saints will fmile to look on, and good Angela 
 
 Clap their celellial Wing9 to give it Plaudits. 
 
 Act V. Sce.ve II.
 
 156 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 T' increafe the Number of this young Man's Days ? 
 And, for each Minute of his Time prolong'd 
 Your Fee fliall be a Piece of Roman Gold, 
 With Gefar's Stamp, fuch as he fends his Captains 
 When in the Wars they earn well : Do but fave him,- 
 And, as he's half myfelf, be you all mine. 
 
 DoR. What Art can do, we promife : Phyfick's Hand 
 As apt is to deftroy as to preferve, 
 If Heav'ri make not the Med'cine : All this while 
 Our Skill hath Combat held with this Difeafe ; 
 But 'tis fo arm'd, and a deep Melancholy, 
 To fuch ,8 in Part with Death, we are in Fear 
 The Grave mud mock our Labours. 
 
 Mac* I have been 
 His Keeper in this Sieknefs, with fuch Eyes 
 As I have feen my Mother watch o'er me ; 
 And, from that Obfervation, fure I find 
 It is a Midwife mufl deliver him. 
 
 Sap, A Midwife ! Is he with Child ? 
 
 Mac* Yes, with Child; 
 And will, I fear, lofe Life, if by a Woman 
 He is not brought to Bed : Stand by his Pillow* 
 Some little while, ahd in his broken Slumbers, 
 Him fhall you hear crV out on Dorothea ; 
 And, when his Arms fly open to catch her; 
 Clofing together, he falls fail afleep, 
 Pleas'dwith Embracings of her airy Form. 
 Phyficians but torment him : His Difeafe 
 Laughs at their gibberifh Language ; let him hear 
 The Voice of Dorothea, nay, but the Name, 
 He Harts up with high Colour in his Face. 
 She, or none, cures him And how that can be 
 (The Princefs' ftricl: Command barring that Happinefs) 
 To me impoffible feem6. v 
 
 Sap. To me it fliall not ; 
 I'll be no Subject to the greateit Qtfar 
 Was ever crown'd with Laurel, rather than ceafe 
 To be a Father. [Exit* 
 
 Mac* Silence, Sir ! he wakes. 
 
 Jnton* Thou kill'ft me Dorothea ! Oh, Dorothea I 
 *8 That U f to fych a Degree \ fo ranch. M* M*
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR, 157 
 
 Mac. She's here : enjoy her. 
 
 Anton, Where ?*s Why do you mock me ? 
 
 Age on my Head hath ftuck no white Hairs yet 5 
 Yet Pro an old Man, a fond doating Fool, 
 Upon a Woman. I, to buy her Beauty, 
 (Truth, I am bewitched) offer my Life, 
 And me, for my Acquaintance, hazards hers | 
 Yet, for our equal Sufferings, none holds out 
 A Hand of Pity. 
 
 Docl. Let him have fome Mufick, 
 
 Anton. Hell on your fiddling ! 
 
 Docl. Take again your Bed, Sir ; 
 Sleep is a fovereign Phyfick. 
 
 Anton. Take an Afs's Head, Sir ; 
 Confufion on your Fooleries ! your Charms ! 
 Thou ftinking Clyfter-pipe ; where's the God 'of Reft, 
 Thy Pills, and bafe Apothecary-drugs, 
 Threaten'd to bring to me ? Out, you Impoftors ! 
 Quackfalving, cheating Mountebanks ! Your Skill 
 Is, to make found Men fick, and fick Men kill. 
 
 Mac. Oh, be yourfelf, dear Friend ! 
 
 Anton. Myfelf, Macrinus f 
 How can I be myfelf, when I am mangled 
 Into a thoufand Pieces ? Here moves my Head, 
 But where' my Heart ? Where-ever that lies dead. 
 
 Enter Sapritius, dragging in Dorothea by the Hair ; An- 
 gelo attending. 
 
 Sap. Follow me, thou damn'd Sorcerefs ! Call up 
 thy Spirits ! 
 And, if they can, now let them r ro"n my Hand 
 IJntwine thefe witching Hairs. 
 
 Anton. I am that Spirit : 
 Or, if I be not, (were you not my Father) 
 One made of Iron fhould hew that Hand in Pieces 
 That fo defaces this fweet Monument 
 Of my Love's Beauty. 
 
 Sap. Art thou fick > 
 
 Anton. To Death. 
 
 Sap. Wouldft thou recover ?
 
 i 5 $ THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Anton. Would I live in Blifs ? 
 
 Sap. And do thine Eyes fhoot Daggers at that Man 
 That brings thee Health ? 
 
 Anton. It is not in the World. 
 
 Sap. It's here. 
 
 Ant. To Treafurc, by Enchantment lock'd 
 tn Caves asleep as Hell, am I as near. 
 
 Sap. Break that enchanted Cave ; enter, and rifle 
 The Spoils thy Luft hunts after : I defcend 
 To a bafe Office, and become thy Pander 
 In bringing thee this proud Thing. Make her thy Whore; 
 Thy Health lies here : If fhe deny to give it, 
 Force it : Imagine thou aflault'ft a Town's 
 Weak Wall ; to't, 'tis thine own, beat but this down* 
 Come, and unfeen be Witnefs, to this Battery 
 How the coy Strumpet yields. *9 
 
 Boa. Shall the Boy flay, Sir? 
 
 Sap. No Matter for the Boy : Pages are us'd 
 To thefe odd bawdy Shufflings ; and indeed 
 Are thofe little young Snakes in a Fury's Head, 
 Will fting worfe than the great Ones. 
 Let the Pimp flay.. [Exeunt ajide. 
 
 Dor. Oh ! Guard me, Angels ! 
 What Tragedy mull begin now ? 
 
 Anton. When a Tyger 
 Leaps into a tim'rous Herd, with rav'nous Jaws, 
 Being Hunger-ftarv'd, what Tragedy then begins ? 
 
 Dor. Death : I am happy fo ', you hitherto 
 Have flill had Goodnefs ipher'd within your Eyes, 
 Let not that Orb be broken. 2 
 
 u 
 
 19 Comt, and unfeen he IVitnefs, to this Battery 
 How t)x coy Strumpet yields. 
 Thefe two Lines are addreffed to Macrinus and the Doftor. 
 *L M. 
 
 what Tragedy then begins ?\ 
 
 Dor. Death: I am happy fo ; you hitherto 
 Have fl ill had Goodnefs /par* d -within your Eyes, 
 Let 710 1 that Orb be broken. 
 Th Word Orb in this laft Line proves that we fhould read Jpher'd 
 inftead of fpar'd; the latter, indeed, made the Pafiage Nonfenfe, 
 which is now very poetical. M. M.
 
 THE VIRGIN- MARTYR. 159 
 
 Aug. Fear not, Miftrefs : 
 If he dare offer Violence, we two 
 Are ftrong enough for fuch a fickly Man, 
 
 Dor. What is your horrid Purpofe, Sir ? your Eye 
 pears Danger in it. 
 
 Anton. I muft 
 
 Dor. What? 
 
 Sap. Speak it out, 
 
 Anton. Climb that fvveet virgin Tree. 
 
 Sap. Plague o' your Trees ! 
 
 Anton. And pluck that Fruit which none, I think, 
 e'er tailed. 
 
 Sap. A Soldier, and Hand fumbling fo ! 
 
 Dor. Oh, kill me ! [Kneels. 
 
 And Heav'n will take it as a Sacrifice : 
 But, if you play the Ravifher, there is 
 A Hell to fwallow you. 
 
 Sap. Let her fwallow thee, 
 
 Anton. Rife For the Roman Empire, Dorothea, 
 I would not wound thine Honour. Pleafures forc'4 
 Are unripe Apples ; four, not worth the Plucking : 
 Yet, let me tell you, 'tis my Father's Will, 
 That I mould feize upon you, as my Prey ; 
 Which I abhor, as much as the blacked Sin 
 The Villainy of Man did ever ad:. 
 
 [Sapritius breaks in, and Macrinus, 
 
 Ang. Die happy for this Language ! 
 
 Sap. Die a Slave, 
 A blockifh Idiot. 
 
 Mac. Dear Sir ! vex him not. 
 
 Sap. Yes, and vex thee too ; both, I think, are Geld- 
 ings 1 
 Cold, phlegmatick Baftard ! thou'rt no Bra,t of mine ; 
 One Spark of me, when I had Heat like thine, 
 By this had made a Bonfire. A tempting Whore, 
 For whom thou'rt mad, thruft ev'n into thine Arms, 
 And ftand'fl thou puling ? Had a Taylor feen her 
 At this Advantage, he, with hiscrofs Capers 
 Had ruffled her by this : But thou malt curfe 
 Thy Dalliance ; and here, before her Eyes,
 
 x6o THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Tear thy Flefh in Pieces, when a Slave 
 In hot Luft bathes himfelf, and gluts thofe Pleafures* 
 Thy Nicenefs durfl not touch. Call out a Slave. 
 You, Captain of our Guard, fetch a Slave hither. 
 
 Anton, What will you do, dear Sir ? 
 
 Sap. Teach her a Trade, which many a one would 
 learn 
 In lefs than half an Hour, to play the Whore. 
 
 Jlnter a Slave. 
 
 Mac. A Slave is come : What now ? 
 
 Sap. Thou haft Bones and Flelh 
 Enough to ply thy Labour. From what Country 
 Wert thou ta'en Prifoner, here to be our Slave ? 
 
 Slave. From Britain. 
 
 Sap. In the Weftern Ocean .? 
 
 Slave. Yes. 
 
 Sap. An Ifland > 
 
 Slave. Yes. 
 
 Sap. I'm fitted : Of all Nations 
 Our Roman Swords e'er conquer'd, none comes near 
 The Briton for true Whoring. Sirrah ! Fellow ! 
 What wouldft'thou do to gain thy Liberty ? 
 
 Slave. Do ? Liberty ? Fight naked with a Lion ; 
 Venture to pluck a Standard from the Heart 
 Of an arm'd Legion : Liberty ? I'd thus 
 Beftride a Rampire, and Defiance fpit 
 I' th' Face of Death ; then, when the Batt'ring-ram 
 Were fetching his Career backward, to pafh 
 Me with his Horns to Pieces : To make my Chains off, 
 And that I could not do't but by thy Death, 
 Stoodft thou on this dry Shore, I on a Rock 
 Ten Pyramids high, down would I leap to kill thee 
 Or die myfelf. What is for Man to do 
 I'll venture on to be no more a Slave. 
 
 Sap. Thou fhalt, then, be no Slave ; for I will fet thee 
 Upon a Piece of Work is fit for Man, 
 Brave for a Briton : Drag that Thing afide 
 And ravifti her,
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. z6t 
 
 Slave. And ravifh her ? Is this your manly Service ? 
 A Devil fcorns to do it ; 'tis for a Beaft, 
 A Villain, not a Man. I am, as yet, 
 But half a Slave ; but, when that Work is paft, 
 A damned whole one, a black ugly Slave, 
 The Slave of all bafe Slaves : Do't thyfelf, Roman f 
 'Tis Drudgery fit for thee. 
 
 Sap. He's bewitch'd too : 
 Bind him, and with a Baftinado give him, 
 Upon his naked Belly, two hundred Blows. 
 
 Slave. Thou art more Slave than I. [Exit, carried inl 
 
 Dor. That Power fupernal, on whom waits my Soul, 
 Is Captain o'er my Chaftity. 
 
 Anton. Good Sir, give o'er. 
 The more you wrong her, yourfelPs vex'd the more. 
 
 Sap. Plagues light on her and thee !-*-Thus downl throvf. 
 Thy Harlot, thus by th'Hair, nail her to Earth. 
 Call in ten Slaves, let every one difcover 
 What Lull defires, and furfeit here his Fill. 
 Call in ten Slaves. 
 
 Ang. They're come, Sir, at your call. 
 
 Sap. Oh, oh ! [Faffs downi 
 
 Enter Theophilus. 
 
 "theopb. Where is the Governor ? 
 
 Anton. There's my wretched Father. 
 
 Theoph. My Lord Sapritius He's not dead ? *-My Lord, 
 That Witch there 
 
 Anton. 'Tis no Roman Gods can ftrike 
 Thefe fearful Terrors. 0,thou happy Maid { 
 Forgive this wicked Purpofe of my Father. 
 
 Dor. I do. 
 
 Theopk. Gone, gone ; he's pepper'd. 'Tis thou 
 Haft done this Acl: infernal. 
 
 Dor. Heaven pardon you ! 
 And if my Wrongs from thence pull Vengeance down, 
 I can no Miracles work, yet from my Soul 
 Pray to thofe Pow'rs I ferve, he may recover. 
 
 Vol. I. L
 
 i6z THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Theoph. He ftirs Help ! Raife him up. My Lord ! 
 
 Sap. Where am I ? 
 Theoph. One Cheek is blafted. 
 
 Sap. Blafted ? Where's the Lamia 
 That tears my Entrails ? I'm bewitch'd Seize on her. 
 
 Dor. I'm here ; do what you pleafe. 
 
 Theoph. Spurn her to the Bar. 
 
 Dor. Come, Boy ! being there, more near to Heav'n 
 we are. 
 
 Sap. Kick harder ; go out, Witch. [Exeunt. 
 
 Anton. O bloody Hangman ! thine own Gods give 
 thee Breath ! 
 Each of thy Tortures is my feveral Death. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Harpax, Hircius, and Spungius. 
 
 Harp. Do you like my Service now ? Say, am not I 
 A Mailer worth Attendance ? 
 
 Spun. Attendance ? I had rather lick clean the Soles 
 of your dirty Boots, than wear the richeft Suit of any 
 infected Lord, whofe rotten Life hangs between the 
 two Poles. 
 
 Hir. A Lord's Suit ! I would not give up the cloak 
 of your Service, to meet the Splay-foot Eftate of any 
 left-ey'd Knight above the Antipodes ; becaufe they are 
 unlucky to meet. 
 
 Harp. This Day I'll try your Loves to me ; 'tis only 
 But well to ufe the Agility of your Arms. 
 
 Spun. Or Legs, I am lufty at them. 
 
 Hir. Or any other Member that hath no Legs. 
 
 Spun. Thou'lt run into fome Hole. 
 
 Hir. If I meet one that's more than my Match; and 
 that I cannot Hand in their Hands, I muft and will creep 
 on my Knees. 
 
 Harp. Hear me, my little Team of Villains, hear me, 
 I cannot teach you Fencing with thefe Cudgels, 
 Yet you mull ufe them ; lay them on but ibundlv ; 
 That's all.
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 163 
 
 Hir. Nay, if we come to mauling once, phoh ! 
 
 Spun. But what Walnut-tree is it we muft beat ? 
 
 Harp. Your Miftrefs. 
 
 Hir. How ! my Miftrefs ? I begin to have a Chrif* 
 tian's Heart made of fweet Butter ; I melt, I cannot 
 ftrike a Woman. 
 
 Spun. Nor I, unlefs me fcratch ; beat my Miftrefs I 
 
 Harp. Y'are Coxcombs, filly Animals. 
 
 Hir. What's that ? 
 
 Harp. Drones, AfTes, blinded Moles, that dare notthruft 
 Your Arms out to catch Fortune ; fay, you fall off, 
 It muft be done : You are converted Rafcals, 
 And, that once fpread abroad, why, every Slave 
 Will kick you, call you motly Cfiriftians, 
 And half-fac'd Chriftians. 
 
 Spun. The Guts of my Conference begin to be of 
 Whitleatheri 
 
 Hir. 1 doubt me, I fliall have no fweet Butter in me* 
 
 Harp. Deny this, and every Pagan whom you meet, 
 Shall forked Fingers thruft into your Eyes. 
 
 Hir. If we be Cuckolds. 
 
 Harp. Do this, and every God the Gentiles bow to, 
 Shall add a Fathom to your Line of Years. 
 
 Spun. A hundred Fatfhom ; I defire no more. 
 
 Hir. I defire but one Inch longer. 
 
 Harp. The Senators will, as you pafs along, 
 Clap you upon your Shoulders with this Hand, 
 And with this Hand give you Gold: When you are deac^ 
 Happy that Man fliall be, can get a Nail, 
 The paring, nay, the Dirt under the Nail 
 Of any of you both, to fay this Dirt 
 Belonged to Spungius or Hircius. 
 
 Spun. They iliall not want Dirt under my Nails, I 
 will keep them long of Purpofe, for now my Fingers 
 itch to be at her. 
 
 Hr. The firft Thing I do, I'll take her over the Lips. 
 
 Spun. And I the Hips, we may ftrike any where. 
 
 Harp. Yes, any where. 
 
 Hir. Then I know where I'll hit her. 
 
 L 2
 
 i64 THE VlRGlN-MARTYR. 
 
 Harp. Profper, and be mine own ; Hand by, I mufl 
 not, 
 To fee this done ; great Bufinefs calls me hence : 
 He's made can make her curfe his Violence. [Jw7. 
 
 Spun. Fear it not, Sir! her Ribs mail be balled. 
 
 Hir. I'll come upon her with rounce, robble-hobble, 
 and thwick-thwack thirley bouncing. 
 
 Enter Dorothea, led Prifoner, a Guard attending ; a Hang- 
 man with Cords, infome ugly Shape, fets up a Pillar in the 
 Middle of the Stage; Sapritius and Theophilus^/, An- 
 gelo by her. 
 
 Sap. According to our Roman Cuftoms, bind! 
 That Chriflian to a Pillar. 
 
 Theoph. Infernal Furies \ 
 Could they into my Hand thruft all their Whips 
 To tear thy Flefli, thy Soul, 'tis not a Torture 
 Fit to the Vengeance I fhould heap on thee, 
 For Wrongs done me ; me ! for flagitious Facia 
 By thee done to our Gods : Yet (fo it ftand 
 To great Gajarea's Governor's high Pleafure) 
 -Bow but thy Knee to Jupiter, and offer 
 Any flight Sacrifice ; or do but fwear 
 JBy Gefar's Fortune, and be free. 
 
 Sap. Thou (halt. 
 
 Dor. Not for all Cajar y % Fortune, were it chain'd 
 To more Worlds than are Kingdoms in the World, 
 And all thofe Worlds drawn after him : I defy 
 Your Hangman ; you now fhew me whither to fly. 
 
 Sap. Are her Tormentors ready ? 
 
 Ang. Shrink not, dear Miflrefs ! 
 
 Spun, and Hir. My Lord, we are ready for the Bu. 4 - 
 finefs. 
 
 Lor. You two ! whom I like fofter'd Children fed,, 
 And lengthen 'd out your ftarved Life with Bread : 
 You be my Hangmen ? Whom, when up the Ladder 
 Death hal'd you to be flrangled, I fetch 'd down, 
 Cloth'd you, and warm'd you t You two. my Torment 
 tors ?
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. i6 s 
 
 Both. Yes, we. 
 
 Dor. Divine Powers pardon me ! 
 
 Sap. Strike. 
 
 [Theyjlrike at her : Angelo kneeling, holds her faji. 
 
 Theoph. Beat out her Brains. 
 
 Dor. Receive me, you bright Angels ! 
 
 Sap. Falter, Slaves \ 
 
 Spun. Fafler ? I am out of Breath, I am fure : If I 
 were to beat a Buck, I can flrike no harder. * 
 
 Hir. O, mine Arms ! I cannot lift 'em to my Head. 
 
 Dor. Joy above Joys ! are my Tormentors weary 
 In tort'ring me ? And in my Sufferings 
 I fainting in no Limb ! Tyrants, ftrike home, 
 And feall your Fury full. 
 
 Theoph. Thefe Dogs are Cuts, [Comes from his Seat. 
 Which fnarl, yet bite not. See, my Lord, her Face 
 Hath more bewitching Beauty than before : 
 Proud Whore, fhe Smiles ; cannot an Eye flart out 
 With thefe ? 
 
 Hir. No, Sir, nor the Bridge of her Nofe fall ; 'tis 
 full of Iron Work. 
 
 Sap. Let's view the Cudgels ; are they not Counter- 
 feit ? 
 
 Ang. There fix thine Eye flill ; thy glorious Crown 
 mufl come 
 Not from foft Pleafure, but by Martyrdom. 
 There fix thine Eye flill ; when we next do meet, 
 Not Thorns, but Rofes fhall bear up thy Feet : 
 There fix thine Eye flill. [Exit* 
 
 Enter Harpax, fneaking. 
 
 Dor. Ever, ever, ever. 
 
 Theoph. We're mock'd ; thefe Bats have Power to fell 
 down Giants, yet her Skin is not fcar'd. 
 
 Sap. What Rogues are thefe ? 
 
 Theoph. Cannot thefe force a Shriek ? [Beats them. 
 
 Spun. Oh ! a Woman has one of my Ribs, and now 
 five more are broken.
 
 166 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Tkeoph, Cannot this make her roar ? 
 
 [Beats t'other ; be roars. 
 Sap. Who hir'd thcfe Slaves ? What are the)' ? 
 Spun, We ferv'd that noble Gentleman, there : He 
 entie'd us to this dry-beating : Oh ! for one half Pot. 
 Harp, My Servants ? Two bafe Rogues, and fome- 
 times Servants 
 To her, and for that Caufe forbear to hurt her. 
 Sap, Unbind her, hang up thefe. 
 Theoph. Hang the two Hounds on the next Tree. 
 Hir, Hang us ? Mailer Harpax, what a Devil, mall 
 we be thus us'd ? 
 
 Harp. What Bandogs but you two would worry a 
 Woman ? 
 YourMiflrefs ! I but clapt 3^011, you flew on. 
 Say I mould get your Lives, each rafcal Beggar 
 Would, when he met you, cry out, Hell-hounds ! 
 
 Traitors ! 
 Spit at you, fling Dirt at you, and no Woman 
 Ever endure your Sight : 'Tis your bed Courfe 
 Now, had you fecret Knives, to flab yourfelves ; 
 But, fince you have not, go and be hang'd. 
 Hir. I thank you. 
 Harp. 'Tis your bell Courfe. 
 Theoph. Why ilay they trifling here ? 
 To Gallows drag them bv the Heels ; away. 
 
 Spun. By the Heels ? No, Sir ! we have Legs to do 
 us that Service. 
 
 Hir. I, I, if no Woman can endure my Sight, away 
 with me. 
 
 Harp. Difpatch them. 
 Spun. The Devil difpatch thee. 
 Sap. Death this Day rides in Triumph, Theophilus, 
 See this Watch made away too. 
 
 Theoph. My Soul thirfls for it ; 
 Come, I myfelf the Hangman's Part could play. 
 
 Dor. O haiten me to my Coronation Day ! [Exeunt*
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 167 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter Antoninus, Macrinus, and Servants* 
 
 Anton, Is this the Place, where Virtue is to fuffer ? 
 And heavenly Beauty, leaving this bafe Earth, 
 To make a glad Return from whence it came ? 
 Is it Macrinus t [A Scaffold thruji forth, 
 
 Mac, By this Preparation, 
 You well may reft aflur'd, that Dorothea 
 This Hour is to die here. . . 
 
 Anton, Then with her dies 
 The AbftracT: of all Sweetnefs that's in Woman ; 
 Set me down, Friend ! that, ere the Iron Hand 
 Of Death clofe up mine Eyes, they may at once 
 Take my laft Leave both of this Light and her : 
 For, fhe being gone, the glorious Sun himfelf 
 To me's Cimmerian Darknefs. 
 
 Mac, Strange Affection ! 
 Cupid once more hath chang'd his Shafts with Death, 
 And kills, inftead of giving Life. 
 
 Anton. Nay, weep not ; 
 Tho' Tears of Friendfhip be a fov'reign Balm, 
 On me they're caft away : It is decreed 
 That I mufbdie with her ; our Clue of Life 
 Was fpun together. 
 
 Mac. Yet, Sir, 'tis my Wonder, 
 That you, who, hearing only what fhe fuffers, 
 Partake of all her Tortures, yet will be, 
 To add to your Calamity, an Eye-witnefs 
 Of her laft tragic Scene, which muft deeper pierce, 
 And make the Wound more defperate. 
 
 Anton, Oh, Macrinus ! 
 'Twould linger out my Torments elfe, not kill me; 
 Which is the End I aim at : being to die too, 
 What Inftrument more glorious can I wifh for, 
 Than what is made fharp by my conftant Love 
 And true Affection : It maybe, the Duty 
 
 L 4
 
 168 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 And loyal Service, with which I purfu'd her, 
 And feal'd it with my Death, will be remember'd 
 Among her blefled Actions ; and what Honour 
 Can I defire beyond it ? 
 
 Enter a Guard, bringing in Dorothea ; a Head/man before 
 her, followed by Theophilus, Sapritius, and Harpax. 
 
 Anton. See ! ihe comes ; 
 How fweet her Innocence appears ! more like 
 To Heav'n itfelf, than any Sacrifice 
 That can be offer'd to it. By my Hopes 
 Of Joys hereafter, the Sight makes me doubtful 
 In my Belief ; nor can I think our Gods 
 Are good, or to be ferv'd, that take Delight 
 In Off'rings of this Kind ; that, to maintain 
 Their Pow'r, deface the Mafter-piece of Nature 
 Which they themfelves come fhort of : She afcends, 
 And every Step raifes her nearer Heaven. 
 What God foe'er thou art, that muft enjoy her, 
 Receive in her a boundlefs Happinefs ! 
 
 Sap. You are to blame to let him come abroad. 
 
 Mac. It was his Will ; 
 And we were left to ferve him, not command him, 
 
 Anton. Good Sir, be not offended; nor deny 
 My laft of Pleafures in this happy Object, 
 That I fliall ere be bleft with. 
 
 Theoph. Now, proud Contemner 
 Of us, and of our Gods, tremble to think, 
 It is not in the Pow'r thou ferv'ft to fave thee. 
 Not all the Riches of the Sea, increas'd 
 By violent Shipwrecks, nor th' unfearch'd Mines, 
 Mammon's unknown Exchequer, fliall redeem thee : 
 And therefore, having firft with Horror weigh 'd 
 What 'tis to die, and to die young, to part with 
 AH Pleafures and Delights ; laflly, to go 
 Where all Antipathies to Comfort dwell ; 
 Furies behind, about thee, and before thee, 
 And, to add to Affli&ion, the Remembrance 
 Of the Eljfian Joys thou mightft have tailed^
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYL 169 
 
 Hadft thou not turn'd Apoftate to thofe Gods 
 
 That fo reward their Servants, let Defpair 
 
 Prevent the Hangman's Sword, and on this Scaffold 
 
 Make thy firfl Entrance into Hell. 
 Anton, She fmiles 
 
 Unmov'd, by Mars, as if fhe were aflur'd 
 
 Death, looking on her Conftancy, would forgot 
 
 The Ule of his inevitable Hand. 
 
 Theopb. Derided too ? Dilpatch I fay. 
 Dor. Thou Fool ! 
 
 That glorieft in having Power to ravifh 
 
 A Trifle from me I am weary of : 
 
 What is this Life to me ? Not worth a Thought ; 
 
 Or, if to be efteem'd, 'tis that I lofe it 
 
 To win a better : Ev'n thy Malice ferves 
 
 To me but as a Ladder to mount up 
 
 To fuch a Height of Happinefs, where I mail 
 Look down with Scorn on thee and on the World ; 
 
 Where circled with true Pleafures, plac'd above 
 The Reach of Death or Time, 'twill be my Glory 
 To think at what an eafy Price I bought it. 
 There's a perpetual Spring, perpetual Youth. 81 
 Nojoint-benumming Cold, nor fcorching Heat, 
 Famine nor Age, having any Being there. 
 Forget, for Shame, your Tempe ; bury in 
 Oblivion, your feign'd Hefperian Orchards : 
 The Golden Fruit, kept by the watchful Dragon, 
 Which did require a Hercules to guard it, 
 Compar'd with what grows in all Plenty there, 
 Deferves not to be nam'd. The Pow'r I ferve 
 Laughs at your happy Arable, or the 
 Elyjian Shades ; for he hath made his Bow'rs 
 Better in deed than you can fancy yours, 
 Anton. O, take me thither with you ! 
 Dor. Trace my Steps, 
 And be aflur'd you lhall. 
 
 (f* 21 TJjere's a perpetual Spring, perpetual youth^ lie. 
 
 This fliort but fine Defcription of Elyfium is equal, if not fuperiof, 
 to any given by the ancient Poets,
 
 170 THE VIRGIN-M ARTYR. 
 
 Sap, With my own Hands 
 I'll rather flop that little Breath is left thee, 
 And rob thy killing Fever. 
 
 Theoph, By no Means ; 
 Let him go with her : do, fedue'd young Man, 
 And wait upon thy Saint in Death ; do, do : 
 And, when you come to that imagin'd Place, 
 That Place of all Delights pray you, obferve me, 
 And meet thofe curfed Things I once called Daughter*, 
 Whom I have fent as Harbingers before you, 
 If there be any Truth in your Religion, 
 In Thankfulnefs to me, that with Care haften 
 Your Journey thither, pray fend me lbme 
 Small Pittance of that curious Fruit you boaft of. 
 
 Anton, Grant that I may go with her, and I will. 
 
 Sap, Wilt thou, in the 1 ait Minute, damn thyfelf? 
 
 'Theoph The Gates to Hell are open. 
 
 Dor, Know, thou tyrant ! 
 Thou Agent for the Devil thy great Matter ! 
 Tho' thou art molt unworthy to talle of it, 
 I can, and will. 
 
 Enter Angelo, in the Angel's Habit. 
 
 Harp. Oh ! Mountains fall upon me, 
 Or hide me in the Bottom of the Deep ; 
 Where Light may never find me ! 
 
 Theoph. What's the Matter ? 
 
 Sap, This is prodigious, and confirms her Witchcraft, 
 
 Theoph, Harpax, my Harpax, fpeak ! 
 
 Harp. I dare not ftay : 
 Should I but hear her once more, I were loft. 
 Some Whirlwind fnatch me from this curfed Place, 
 To which compar'd, and with what now I fuffer, 
 Hell's Torments are fweet Slumbers ! [Exit Harpax. 
 
 Sap, Follow him. 
 
 Theoph. He is diftracled, and I muft not lofe him. 
 Thy Charms upon my Servant, curfed Witch, 
 Give thee a fhort Reprieve. Let her not die 
 Till my Return. [Exeunt Sap. and Theoph.
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 171 
 
 Anton. She minds him not : What Object 
 Is her Eye fix'd on ? 
 
 Mac. I fee nothing. 
 
 Anton. Mark her. 
 
 Dor. Thou glorious Minifter of the Power I ferve ! 
 (For thou art more than mortal) is't for me, 
 Poor Sinner, thou art pleas'd a while to leave 
 Thy heavenly Habitation, and vouchfaf ft 
 (Tho' glorify'd) to take my Servant's Habit? 
 For, put off thy Divinity, fo look'd 
 My lovely Angeb. 
 
 Ang. Know, I'm the fame ; 
 And ftill the Servant to your Piety. 
 Your zealous Prayers, and pious Deeds firft won me 
 (But 'twas by his Command to whom you fent them) '- 
 To guide your Steps. I try'd your Charity, 
 When in a Beggar's Shape you took me up, 
 And cloth'd my naked Limbs, and after fed 
 (As you believ'd) my famifh'd Mouth. Learn all, 
 By your Example, to look on the Poor 
 With gentle Eyes ; for in fuch Habits, often, 
 Angels defire an Alms. I never left you, 
 Nor will I now ; for I am fent to carry 
 Your pure and innocent Soul to Joys eternal, 
 Your Martyrdom once furTer'd ; and before it, 
 Afk any Thing from me, and reft aflur'd 
 You mail obtain. 
 
 Dor. I am largely paid 
 For all my Torments : fince I find fuch Grace, 
 Grant that the Love of this young Man to me, 
 In which he languifheth to Death, may be 
 Chang'd to the Love of Heaven. 
 
 Ang. I will perform it; 
 And in that Inftant when the Sword fets free 
 Your happy Soul, his fhall have Liberty. 
 Is there aught elfe ? 
 
 Dor. For Proof that I forgive 
 My Perfecutor, who in Scorn defir'd 
 To tafte of that moft facred Fruit I go to ;
 
 i 7 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 After my Death, as fent from me, be pleas 'd 
 To give, him of it. 
 
 Ang. Willingly, dear Miftrefs ! 
 
 Mac. I am amaz'd. 
 
 Anton. I feel a holy Fire, 
 That yields a comfortable Heat within me : 
 I am quite alter'd from the Thing I was ; 
 See ! I can ftand, and go alone ; thus kneel 
 To heav'nly Dorothea, touch her Hand 
 With a religious Kifs. 
 
 "Enter Sapritius and Theophilus. 
 
 Sap. He is well now ; 
 But will not be drawn back. 
 
 Theoph. It matters not ; 
 We can difcharge this Work without his Help* 
 But fee your Son. 
 
 Sap, Villain! 
 
 Anton. Sir, I befeech yon, 
 Being fo near our Ends, divorce us not. 
 
 Theoph. I'll quickly make a Separation of 'em : 
 Haft thou aught elfe to fay ? 
 
 Dor. Nothing, but blame 
 Thy Tardinefs in fending me to reft ; 
 My Peace is made with Heaven, to which my Soul 
 Begins to take her Flight : Strike, O ! ftrike quickly; 
 And, tho' you are unmov'd to fee my Death, 
 Hereafter, when my Story ihall be read, 
 As they were prefent now, the Hearers ftiall 
 Say this of Dorothea, with wet Eyes, 
 She liv'd a Virgin, and a Virgin dies. [Her Headjlruck off. 
 
 Anton. O, take my Soul along to wait on thine ! 
 
 Mac. Your Son finks too. [Antoninusj/tfif. 
 
 Sap. Already dead > 
 
 Theoph. Die all 
 That are of, or favour this accurfed Seel: : 
 I triumph in their Ends, and will raife up 
 A Hill of their dead Carcafles to o're-look 
 The. Pyrenean Hills, but I'll root out
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 173 
 
 Thefe fuperftitious Fools, and leave the World 
 No Name of Chriftian. 
 
 [Loud Mufick : Exit Angelo, having firfl laid hit 
 Hand upon their Mouths, 
 
 Sap. Ha ! heavenly Mufick ! 
 
 Mac. 'Tis in the Air. 
 
 Theoph. Illufions of the Devil, 
 Wrought by fome Witch of her Religion 
 That fain would make her Death a Miracle : 
 It frights not me. Becaufe he is your Son, 
 Let him have Burial ; but let her Body 
 Be caft forth with Contempt in fome Highway, 
 And be to Vultures and to Dogs a Prey. [Extant. 
 
 End of the Fourth Ail. 
 
 ACTV. SCENE I. 
 
 Enter Theophilus in his Study. Books about him, 
 
 Theophilus. 
 
 J' S'T Holiday, O Cafar ! that thy Servant 
 (Thy Provoft to fee Execution done 
 n thefe bafe Chriitians in Cafarea ) 
 Should now want Work ? Sleep thefe Idolaters, 
 That none are ftirring ? As a curious Painter , [Rifes. 
 When he has made fome honourable Piece, 
 Stands off, and with a fearching Eye examines. 
 Each Colour, how 'tis fweeten'd ; and then hugs 
 Himfelf for his rare Workmanship. So here [He fits. 
 Will I my Drolleries, and bloody Landfcapes 
 (Long pafl wrapt up) unfold, to make me merry 
 With Shadows, now I want the Subftances. [Takes a Book. 
 My Mufter-book of Hell-hounds : Were the Chriltians* 
 Whofe Names (land here, alive and arm'd, not Rome: 
 Could move upon her Hinges. What I've done,
 
 i 7 4 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 Or fhall hereafter, is not out of Hate 
 To poor tormented Wretches ; no, I'm carry'd 
 With Violence of Zeal and Streams of Service 
 I owe our Roman Gods. Great Britain what ? 
 A thoufand Wives with Brats fucking their Breads^ 
 Had hot Irons pinch'd 'em off, and thrown to Swine ; g * 
 And then their flefliy Back-parts, hew'd with Hatchets, 
 Wereminc'd and bak'd in Pies to feed flarv'd Chriftians* 
 Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Again, again, Eajl- Angles, Oh, Eajl-Angle s 
 Bandogs (kept three Days hungry) worried 
 A thoufand Britijh Rafcals, ftied up fat, 
 Of Purpofe flfipped naked and difarm'd. 
 I could outftare a Year of Suns and Moons, 
 To fit at thefe fweet Bull-baiting-s, fo I 
 Could thereby but one Chriflian win to fall 
 In Adoration to my Jupiter* Twelve hundred 
 Eyes bor'd with Augres out Oh ! Eleven thoufand 
 Torn by wild Beafls : Two hundred ramm'd i' th' Earth 
 To th* Armpits, and full Platters round about 'em, 
 But far enough from reaching : Eat, Dogs, ha ! ha ! ha I 
 
 [Herijes. 
 Turn, all thefe Tortures are but Fillipings, 
 Flea-bitings : I, before the Deftinies 
 
 Enter Angelo, with a Bajket, filled with Fruit and Fhzvefs. 
 
 My Bottom did wind up, would flefh myfelf 
 
 Once more upon fome one remarkable 
 
 Above all thele : This Chriflian Slut was well, 
 
 A pretty one ; but let fuch Horror follow 
 
 The next I feed with Torments, that when Rome 
 
 Shall hear it, her Foundation at the Sound 
 
 May feel an Earthquake. How now ? [A Concert, 
 
 *% A thoufand Wives tvitb Brats fucking their Brcafs y 
 Had hot Irons finch'' d 'em off) and thro-ivn to Swine. 
 
 Thefe two Lines are not grammatical, but that fcems to be owing 
 to the inadvertency of the Author. M, M.
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR, iff 
 
 Ang. Are you amaz'd, Sir ? So great a Roman Spirit! 
 And doth it tremble ? 
 
 Theoph. How cam'fl thou in ? To whom thy Bufinefs ? 
 
 Ang. To you ; ' 
 
 I had a Miftrefs, late fent hence by you 
 Upon a Bloody Errand ; You intreated 
 That, when fhe came into that bleffed Garden 
 Whither (lie knew (he went, and where (now happy) 
 She feeds upon all Joy, (he would fend to you 
 Some of that Garden : Fruit and Flowers, which here, 
 To .have her promife fav'd, are brought by me, 
 
 'Theoph. Cannot I fee this Garden ? 
 
 Ang, Yes, if the Mailer \ - 
 
 Will give you Entrance. [Angelo vanijketh* 
 
 Theoph. 'Tis a tempting Fruit, 
 And the moft bright-cheek'd Child I ever view'd ; 
 Sweet-fmelling, goodly Fruit : What Flowers arc 
 
 thele ? 
 In Diockjian's Gardens, the moft beauteous, 
 Compar'd with thefe, are Weeds : Is it not February? 
 The fecond Day (he died : Froft, Ice, and Snow 
 Hang on the Beard of Winter : Where's the Sun 
 That gilds this Summer ? Pretty, fweet Boy, fay, 
 In what Country (hall a Man find this Garden ? 
 My delicate Boy, gone ! vanimed ! Within there 
 Julianus and Geta 
 
 Enter two Servants. 
 
 Both. My Lord. 
 
 Theoph. Are my Gates (hut ? 
 
 i Serv. And guarded. 
 
 Theoph. Saw you not a Boy ? 
 
 2 Serv. Where ? 
 
 Theoph. Here he entered, a young Lad ; a thou (and 
 Bleffings danc'd upon his Eyes; a fmooth fac'd glorious 
 Thing, that brought this Bafkct. 
 
 i Serv. No, Sir ! [Exeunt.
 
 176 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Theoph. Away but be in Reach, if my Voiqe calls 
 you. 
 No ! vaniih'd, and not feen ! Be thou a Spirit 
 Sent from that Witch "to mock me, I am fure 
 This is eflential, and, howe'er it grows, 
 Will tafle it. [Eats. 
 
 Harp. Ha, ha, ha, ha I [Harpax within. 
 
 Theoph. So good ! I'll have fome more fure. 
 
 Harp. Ha, ha, ha, ha ! great liquorifh Fool ! 
 
 Theoph. What art thou ? 
 
 Harp. AFiiberman. 
 
 Theoph. What doft thou catch ? 
 
 Harp. Souls, Souls ; a Filb call'd Souls, 
 
 Enter a Servant* 
 
 Theoph. Getaf 
 
 i Serv. My Lord. 
 
 Harp. Ha, ha, ha, ha ! \Withtn* 
 
 Theoph. What infolent Slave is this dares laugh at 
 me ? 
 Or what is it the Dog grins at ? 
 
 i Serv. I neither know, my Lord, at what, nor whom ; 
 for there is none without, but my Fellow Julianus> and 
 he is making a Garland for Jupiter. 
 
 Theoph. Jupiter ! All within me is not well ; 
 And yet not rick. 
 
 Harp. Ha, ha, ha, ha | [Lauder. 
 
 Theoph. What's thy Name, Slave ? 
 
 Harp. Go look. [At one End. 
 
 i Serv. 'Tis Harpax' Voice. 
 
 Theoph. Harpax ! Go, drag the Caitiff to my Foot, 
 That I may flamp upon him. 
 
 Harp. Fool, thou lyeft ! [At the other End. 
 
 i Serv. He's yonder, now, my Lord. 
 
 Iheoph. Watch thou that End, 
 Wbilft I make good this. 
 
 Harp, Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha I [At ikt Middle*
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 167 
 
 Theoph. He is at Barli-break, and the laft Couple are 
 now in Hell : 2 3 
 Search for him All this Ground, methinks, is bloody, 
 And pav'd with thoufands of thole Chriftians' Eyes 
 
 3 Theoph. He is at Barli-break, and the lajl Couple are now in 
 Hell. 
 There are feveral Alliens in thefe Plays of MaJUnger, and fome 
 in thofe of hi3 cotemporary Writers, to the ancient Paltime of Bar- 
 li-break ; but as there are many Parts of the Country in which this 
 Sport is not now in Ufe, thefe Allufions will no longer be generally 
 underftood : I fliould therefore fuppofe that it would not be unac- 
 ceptable to the Readers, to be furnifhed with a poetical Defcription 
 of it, written by the famous Sir Philip Sidney, the mod diflinguifhed 
 Character of his Time, for Valour, and every elegant Accomplilh- 
 ment. It is taken from the Song of Lanwn, in the Firft Book of the 
 Arcadia, where he relates the Pailion of Claius and Strephon for the 
 beautiful Urania. 
 
 But glad Defire, his late embofom'd Gueft, 
 
 Yet but a Babe, with Milk of Sighs Be * nurft ; (* Strephon, 
 
 Defire, the more hefuck'd, more fought the Breaft, 
 
 As Dropfy-folk {till drink to be athirft ; 
 
 Till one Fair Ev'n, an Hour ere Sun did reft, 
 
 Who then in Lion's Cave did enter firft ; 
 
 By Neighbours pray 'd, fie f went abroad, thereby {-f Urania, 
 
 A Barley-break herfweet, iwift Feet to try. 
 
 Never the Earth on his round Shoulders bare 
 A Maid train'd up from high or low Degree, 
 
 That in her Doings better could compare 
 Mirth, with Refpeft ; few Words, with Courtefy ; 
 
 A carelefs Comelinefs, with comely Care ; 
 Self-guard, with Mildnefs j Sport, with Majefty ; 
 
 Which made her yield to deck the Shepherds' Band, 
 
 And, ftill believe me, Strcphon was at Hand. 
 
 Afield they go, where many Lookers be, 
 And thou feek-forrow Claius them among ; 
 
 Indeed, thou faidft it was thy Friend to fee, 
 Strcphon, whofe Abfenfe feem'd unto thee long, 
 
 While, moft with her, he lefs did keep with thee, 
 No, no, it was in Spite of Wifdom's Song, 
 
 Which Abfence wifii'd ; Love play'd a Vittor's Psrt, 
 
 The heavy Love-loadftone drew thy Iron Heair. 
 
 Vol. I. M
 
 i63 THE VIRGIN-MARTTR. 
 
 Whom I have tortur'd, and they flare upon me. 
 
 What was this Apparition ? Sure he had 
 
 A Shape angelical : Mine Eyes (tho* dazzl'd 
 
 And daunted at firft Sight) tell me, it wore 
 
 A Pair of glorious Wings ; yes, they were Wings ! 
 
 And hence he flew : "Tis vanifhed. Jupiter, 
 
 For all my Sacrifices done to him, 
 Never once gave me Smiles. How can Stones fmile ? 
 Or Wooden Image laugh ? \_Mufuk.~\ Ha ! I remember 
 Such Mufick gave a Welcome to mine Ear, 
 
 Then Couples three be ftraight allotted there ; 
 They of both Ends, the Middle two, do fly ; 
 
 The two that, in Mid-fpace, Hell called were, 
 Muft ftrive, with waiting Foot and watching Eye, 
 
 To catch of them, and them to Hell to bear, 
 That they, as well as they, may Hell fupply ; - 
 
 Like fome that feek to falve their blotted Name 
 
 Will others blot, till all do talte of Shame. 
 
 There you may fee, foon as the Middle two 
 Do coupled, towards either Couple make, 
 
 They, falfe and fearful, do their Hands undo ; 
 Brother his Brother, Friend doth Friend forfake, 
 
 Heeding himfelf, cares not how Fellow do, 
 But of a Stranger mutual Help doth take ; 
 
 As perjur'd Cowards in Adverfity, 
 
 With Sight of Fear from Friends to Friend do fly. 
 
 Thefe Sports Shepherds devifed, fuch Faults to fliew. 
 Gcron, tho'old, yet gamefome, kept one End 
 
 With Co/ma ; for whofe Love Pas paft in Woe 
 Fair Nous with Pas the Lot to Hell did fend ; 
 
 Pas thought it Hell while he was Cofma fro ; 
 At other End Uran did Strcpbon lend 
 
 Her happy-making Hand, of whom one Look 
 
 From Nous and Cofma all their Beauty took. 
 
 The Play began ; Pas durft not Cofma chafe, 
 But did intend, next Bout, with her to meet ; 
 
 So he with Nous to Gcron turn'd their Race, 
 With whom to join fad ran Urania fweet ; 
 
 But light-legg'd Pas had got the middle Space; 
 Geran ftrove hard, but aged were his Feet, 
 
 And therefore finding Force now faint to be, 
 
 He thought grey Hairs afforded Subtlety.
 
 . THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 169 
 
 When the fair Youth came to me : 'Tis in the Air, 
 
 Or from fome better : a Power divine, 
 
 Thro' my dark Ign'rance on my Soul does fhine, 
 And makes me fee a Confcience all ftain'd o'er, 
 Nay, drown'd and damn'd forever in Chriftian Gore. 
 Harp. Ha, ha, ha ! [PVithin* 
 
 Theoph, Again ? What dainty Relilh on my Tongue 
 This Fruit hath left ! Some Angel hath me fed ; 
 If fo toothfome, I will be banqueted. [Eats another* 
 
 And fo, when Pas 1 Hand reached him to take, 
 The Fox on Knees and Elbows tumbled down ; 
 
 Pas could not flay, but over him did rake, 
 And crown'd the Earth with his firft-touching Crown ; 
 
 His Heels, grown proud, did feem at Heav'n to (hake ; 
 But Nous, that flipp'd from Pas, did catch the Clown ; 
 
 So, laughing all, yet, Pas to eafe fome deal, 
 Germ with Uran were condemn'd to Hell. 
 
 Lamon then proceeds to defcribe the various Incidents of a fecond 
 Bout. 
 
 Sir John Suckling alfo has given the following Defcription f this 
 Paflime with allegorical Perfonages. 
 
 Love, Reafon, Hate did once befpeak 
 Thfee Mates t& play at Barky-break , 
 Love Folly took ; and Reafon Fancy ; 
 And Hate conforts with Pride, fo dance they : 
 Love coupled laft, and fo it fell 
 That Love and Folly were in Hell. 
 
 They break ; and Love would R eafon meet, 
 But Hate was nimbler on her Feet ; 
 Fancy looks for Pride, and thither 
 Hies, and they two hug together ; 
 Yet this new coupling ftill doth tell 
 That Love and Folly were in Hell. 
 
 The refl do break again, and Pride 
 Hath now got Reafon on her Side ; 
 Hate and Fancy meet, and (land 
 tJntouch'd by Love in Folly's Hand ; 
 Folly was dull, but Love ran well, 
 So Love and Folly were in Hell. M. M 
 
 M 2
 
 j 7 o THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Enter Harpax in a fearful Shape, Fire fiajhing out of the 
 
 Study. 
 
 Harp. Hold ! 
 
 Theoph. Not for C-efar. 
 
 Harp. But for me thou malt. 
 
 Theoph. Thou art no Twin to him that laft was here. 
 Ye Powers ! whom my Soul bids me reverence, 
 Guard me ! What art thou ? 
 
 Harp. I'm thy Mailer. 
 
 Theoph. Mine ? 
 
 Harp. And thou my everlafting Slave : That Harpax, 
 Who Hand in Hand hath led thee to thy Hell, 
 Ami. 
 
 Theoph. Avaunt ! 
 
 Harp. I will not : Caft thou down 
 That Bafket with the Things in't, and fetch up 
 What thou halt fwallow'd, and then take a Drink, 
 Which I mall give thee, and I'm gone. 
 
 Theoph, My Fruit ; 
 Does this offend thee ? fee I 
 
 Harp. Spit it to th' Earth, 
 And tread upon it, or I'll piece-meal tear thee. 
 
 Theoph. Art thou with this affrighted ? See ! here's 
 more. [Flowers.'] 
 
 Harp. Fling them away, I'll take thee elfe, and hang 
 thee 
 In a contorted Chain of Ificles 
 F th' frigid Zone : Down with them. 
 
 Theoph. At the Bottom 
 One Thing I found not yet. [A Crofs of Flowers. 
 
 Harp. Oh ! I am tortur'd. 
 
 Theoph. Can this do't ? Hence ! thou Fiend infernal ! 
 hence ! 
 
 Harp. Clafp fv.piters Image, and away with that. 
 
 Theoph. At thee I'll fiing that Jupiter ; for, methinks, 
 I ferve a better Mailer : He now checks me 
 For murd'ring my two Daughters, put on by thee, 
 By thy damn'd Rhet'rick did I hunt the Life
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 171 
 
 Of Dorothea, the holy Virgin-martyr. 
 
 She is not angry with the Axe, nor me, 
 
 But fends thefe Prefents to me[; and I'll travel 
 
 O'er Worlds to find her, and from her white Hand 
 
 Beg a Forgivenefs. 
 
 Harp. No ; I'll bind thee here. 
 
 Theoph. I ferve a Strength above thine : This fmall 
 Weapon, 
 Methinks, is Armour hard enough. 
 
 Harp. Keep from me. [Sinks a little. 
 
 Theoph. Art polling to thy Centre ? Down, Hell- 
 hound ! down ; 
 Me haft thou loft ; that Arm, which hurls thee hence, 
 Save me, and fet me up the ftrong Defence 
 In the fair Chriftian's Quarrel ! 
 
 Enter Angelo. 
 
 Aug. Fix thy Foot there ; 
 Nor be thou fliaken with a Ctefar's Voice, 
 Tho' thoufand Deaths were in it ; and I then 
 Will bring thee to a River, that fhall wafh 
 Thy bloody Hands clean and more white than Snow ; 
 And to that Garden where thefe bleft Things grow ; 
 And to that martyr'd Virgin, who hath fent 
 That heavenly Token to thee; fpread this brave Wing, 
 And ferve, than Cefar, a far greater King. [Exit. 
 
 Theoph. It is, it is fome Angel Vaniih'd again ! 
 Oh, come back, ravifhing Boy ! bright MefTenger ! 
 Thou haft (by thefe mine Eyes fix'd on thy Beauty) 
 JHumin'd all my Soul : Now look I back 
 On my black Tyrannies, which, as they did 
 Out-dare the bloodieft, thou, bleft Spirit, that leadft 
 
 me, 
 Teach me what I mult do, and, to do well, 
 That my laft At the belt may parallel. [Exit. 
 
 M i
 
 172 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Dioclefian, Maximinns, the Kings of Epire, Pon- 
 tus, and Macedon, meeting Anemia ; Attendants. 
 
 Artem. Glory and Conqucfl flill attend upon 
 Triumphant Cafar ! 
 
 Diocle. Let thy Wifh, fair Daughter, 
 Be equally divided ; and hereafter 
 Learn thou to know and rev'rence Maximinus, 
 Whofe Power, with mine united, make one Cwfar. 
 
 Max. But that I fear 'twould be held Flattery, 
 The Bonds confider'd in which we fland tied, 
 As Love, and Empire, I mould fay, till now 
 I ne'er had feen a Lady I thought worthy 
 To be my Miflrefs. 
 
 Artem. Sir, you mew yourfelf 
 Both Courtier and Soldier : But take heed, 
 Take heed, my Lord ! tho' my dull-pointed Beaut)*, 
 Stain'd by a harfh Refufal in my Servant, 
 Cannot dart forth fuch Beams as may inflame you, 
 You may encounter fuch a powerful one, 
 That with a pleafing Heat will thaw your Heart, 
 Tho' bound in Ribs of Ice. Love flill is Love, 
 His Bow and Arrows are the fame. Great Julius, 
 That to his Succeflbrs left the Name of Cxfar, 
 Whom War could never tame, that with dry Eyes 
 Beheld the large Plains of Pharfalia, covcr'd 
 With the dead Carcafles of Senators 
 And Citizens of Rome, when the World knew 
 No other Lord but him, ftruck deep in Years too, 
 (And Men grey-hair'd forget the Lulls of Youth) 
 After all this, meeting fair Cleopatra, 
 A Suppliant too ; the Magick of her Eye, 
 E'en in his Pride of Conqueft took him Captive $ 
 Nor are you more fecure.
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR, 173 
 
 Max. Were you deform'd, 
 (But by the Gods you are molt excellent) 
 Your Gravity and Difcretion would o'ercome me ; 
 And I mould be more proud in being a Prifoner 
 To your fair Virtues, than of all the Honours, 
 Wealth, Title, Empire, that my Sword hath purchas'd. 
 
 Deocle. This meets my Wifhes : Welcome it, Artemia, 
 With outftretch'd Arms, and ftudy to forget 
 That Antoninus ever was ; thy Fate 
 Referv'd thee for this better Choice, embrace it. 
 
 Epire. This happy Match brings new Nerves to give 
 Strength 
 To our continu'd League. 
 
 Diode. Hymen himfelf 
 Will blefs this Marriage, which we'll folemnize 
 In the Prefencc of theie Kings. 
 
 Pontus. Who reft moil happy, 
 To be Eyewitnefles of a Match that brings 
 Peace to the Empire. 
 
 Diocle. We much thank your Loves : 
 But where's Sapritius, our Governor, 
 And our mbft zealous Provoft, good Theophilus ! 
 If ever Prince were bleft in a true Servant, 
 Or could the Gods be Debtors to a Man, 
 Both they, and we, (land far engag'd to cherifli 
 His Piety and Service. 
 
 Artem. Sir, the Governor 
 Brooks fadly his Son's Lois, altho'he turn'd 
 Apoftate in Death ; but bold Tbeopbilus, 
 Who, for the fame Caufe, in my Prefence, feal'd 
 His holy Anger on his Daughters' Hearts : 
 Having with Tortures firit try'd to convert her, 
 Dragg'd the bewitching Chriftian to the Scaffold, 
 And law her lofe her Head. 
 
 Diocle. He is all worthy. 
 And from his own Mouth I would gladly hear 
 The Manner how fhe fuffer'd. 
 
 Art em. 'Twill be deliver'd 
 With fuch Contempt and Scorn (I know his Nature) 
 
 M 4.
 
 i 7 4 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 That rather 'twill beget your Highnefs' Laughter, 
 Than the lead Pity. 
 
 Enter Theophilus, Sapritius, and Macrinus. 
 
 Diocle. To that End I would hear it. 
 
 Artem. He comes. With him the Governor. 
 
 Diocle. O Sapritius, 
 I am to chide you for your Tendernefs ; 
 But yet, remembering that you are a Father, 
 I will forget it. Good 'theophilus, 
 I will fpeak with you anon. Nearer your Ear. 
 
 [To Sapritius. 
 
 Theoph. By Antoninus' Soul, I do conjure you, 
 And, tho' not for Religion, for his Friendfhip, 
 Without demanding what's the Caufe that moves me, 
 Receive my Signet ; by the Power of this, 
 Go to my Prifons, and releafe all Chriftians 
 That are in Fetters there by my Command. 
 
 Mac. But what ihall follow ? 
 
 Theoph. Hafte then to the Port ; 
 You there Ihall find two tall Ships ready rigg'd, 
 In which embark the poor diftre fTed Souls, 
 And bear them from the Reach of Tyranny. 
 Enquire not whither you are bound, the Deity 
 That they adore will give you profp'rous Winds, 
 And make your Voyage fuch, and largely pay 
 Your Hazard, and your Travel. Leave me here ; 
 There is a Scene that I mull: act alone. 
 Hafte, good Macrinus ; and the great God guide you ! 
 
 Mac. I'll undertake't : There's fomething prompts 
 me to it ; 
 'Tis to fave innocent Blood, a faint-like Act ; 
 And to be merciful has never been 
 By mortal Men themfelves efteem'd a Sin. 
 
 [Exit Mac. 
 
 Diocle. You know your Charge. 
 
 Sap. And will with Care obferve it. 
 
 Diocle. For I profefs, he is not Cafar\ Friend, 
 That fheds a Tear for any Torture that
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 175 
 
 A Chriftian fuffers, Welcome, my beft Servant ! 
 
 My careful zealous Provoft ! thou haft toil'd 
 
 To fatisfy my Will, tho' in Extremes : 
 
 I love thee for't ; thou art firm Rock, no Changeling. 
 
 Prithee deliver, and for my Sake do it, 
 
 Without Excefs of Bitternefs, or Scoffs, 
 
 Before my Brother and thefe Kings, how took 
 
 The Chriftian her Death ? 
 
 Theoph. And fuch a Prefence, . 
 Tho' every private Head in this large Room 
 Were circled round with an Imperial Crown, 
 Her Story will deferve, it is fo full 
 Of Excellence and Wonder. 
 
 Diode. Ha ! How's this ? 
 
 Theoph. O ! mark it, therefore, and with that Atten- 
 tion, 
 As you would hear an EmbafTy from Heaven 
 By a wing'd Legate ; for, the Truth deliver'd, 
 Both how, and what, this bleffed Virgin fuffer'd ; 
 And Dorothea but hereafter nam'd, 
 You will rife up with Rev'rence ; and no more, 
 As Things unworthy of your Thoughts, remember 
 What the canoniz'd Spartan Ladies were, 
 Which lying Greece fo boafts of. Your own Matrons, 
 Your Roman Dames, whofe Figures you yet keep 
 As holy Relicks, in her Hiftory 
 Will find a fecond Urn : 2 * Gracchus' Cornelia ; 
 Paulina, that, in Death defir'd to follow 
 Her Hufband Seneca; nor Brutus' Portia 
 That fwallow'd burning Coals to overtake him, 
 Tho' all their feveral Worths were given to one, 
 With this is to be mention'd. 
 
 Max. Is he mad ? 
 
 Diode. Why, they did die, Theophilus, and boldly ; 
 This did no more. 
 
 24 This Paflage, as printed, in the old Edition, is nonfenfe; it 
 ihould Jdc pointed thus : * 
 
 1 Gracchus'* Cornelia} 
 
 Paulina, that, in Death, defir'd to follow 
 Her Hulband Seneca ; nor Brutus' Portia, &c. M. M.
 
 i 7 6 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Theoph. They, out of Defperation, 
 Or for vain Glory of an After-name, 
 Parted with Life : This had not mutinous Sons, 
 As the ram Gracchi were ; nor was this Saint 
 A doating Mother, as Cornelia was : 
 This loft no Hufband, in whofe Overthrow 
 Her Wealth and Honour funk ; no Fear of Want 
 Did make her Being tedious ; but, aiming 
 At an immortal Crown, and in his Caufe 
 Who only can beftow it, who fent down 
 Legions of minift'ring Angels to bear up 
 Her fpotlefs Soul to Heav'n ; who entertain'd it 
 With choice celeftial Mufick, equal to 
 The Motion of the Spheres, fhe, u n com pell 'd, 
 Chang 'd this Life for a better. My Lord Saprifius, 
 You at her Death were prefent ; did you e'er hear 
 Such ravifhing Sounds ? 
 
 Sap. Yet you faid then 'twas Witchcraft 
 And devilifli Illufions. 
 
 Theoph. I then heard it 
 With finful Ears, and belch'd out blafphemous Words 
 Againft his Deity which then I knew not, 
 Nor did believe in him. 
 
 Diode. Why, doft thou now ? Or dar'ft thou, in our 
 Hearing ? 
 
 Theoph. Were my Voice 
 As loud as is his Thunder, to be heard 
 Thro' all the World, all Potentates on Earth 
 Ready to burft with Rage, fhould they but hear it ; 
 Tho* Hell, to aid their Malice lent her Furies, 
 Yet I would fpeak, and fpeak again, and boldly, 
 I am a Chriftian, and the Powers you worfhip 
 But Dreams of Fools and Madmen. 
 
 Max. Lay Hands on him. 
 
 Diocle. Thou twice a Child ! (for doting Age fo 
 makes thee) 
 Thou couldfl not elfe, thy Pilgrimage of Life 
 Being almoft paft thro', in this laft Moment, 
 Deftroy whate'er thou haft done good, or great ; 
 Thy Youth did Promife much ; and, grown a Man,
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 177 
 
 Thou mad'ft it good, and with Increafe of Years 
 Thy Anions (till better'd : As the Sun, 
 Thou didft rife glorioufly, keepft a conftant Courfe 
 In all thy Journey ; and now, in the Evening, 
 When thou fhouldft pafs with Honour to thy Reft, 
 Wilt thou fall like a Meteor? 
 
 Sap. Yet confefs 
 That thou art mad, and that thy Tongue and Heart 
 Had no Agreement. 
 
 Max. Do ; no Way is left, elfe, 
 To fave thy Life, Tbeopbilus. 
 
 Diode. But, refufe it, 
 Deitruction as horrid, and as fudden, 
 Shall fall upon thee, as if Hell flood open, 
 And thou wert finking thither. 
 
 1'heopk. Hear me, yet; 
 Hear for my Service paft. 
 
 Artem. What will he fay ? 
 
 Theoph. As ever I deferv'd your Favour, hear mc, 
 And grant one Boon ; 'tis not for Life I fue; 
 Nor is it fit that I, that ne'er knew Pity 
 To any Chriftian, being one myfelf, 
 Should look for any ; no, I rather beg 
 The utmoft of your Cruelty ; I ftand 
 Accomptable for thoufand Chriftians' Deaths : 
 And, were it poffible that I could die 
 A Day for every one, then live again 
 To be again tormented, 'twere to me 
 An eafy Penance, and I fhould pafs thro' 
 A gentle cleanfing Fire ; but, that deny'd me, 
 It being beyond the Strength of feeble Nature, 
 My Suit is, you would have no Pity on me. 
 In mine own Houfe there are a thoufand Engines 
 Of ftudied Cruelty, which I did prepare 
 For miferable Chriftians ; let me feel, 
 As the Sicilian did his brazen Bull, 
 The horridit you can find, and I will fav, 
 In death, that you. are merciful.
 
 178 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 
 
 Diode, Defpair not : 
 In this thou ftialt prevail go fetch 'em hither : 
 
 [Some go for the Rack, 
 Death fhall put on a thoufand Shapes at once, 
 And fo appear before thee ; Racks, and Whips, 
 Thy Flefh, with burning Pincers torn, fhall feed 
 He Fire that heats them ; and, what's wanting to 
 The Torture of thy Body, I'll fupply 
 In punifhing thy Mind. Fetch all the Chriftians 
 That are in Hold ; and here, before his Face, 
 Cut 'em in Pieces. 
 
 Theoph. 'Tis not in thy Power 
 It was the firft good Deed I ever did ; 
 They are remov'd out of thy Reach ; howe'er 
 I was determin'd for my Sins to die, 
 I firft took Order for their Liberty, 
 And flill I dare thy worft. 
 
 Diode. Bind him, I fay ; 
 Make every Artery and Sinew crack ; 
 He that makes him give the loudefl Shriek, 
 Shall have ten thoufand Drachmas : Wretch ! I'll force 
 
 thee 
 To curfe the Power thou worfhiplt : 
 
 Theoph. Never, never. 
 No Breath of mine fhall e'er be fpent on him, 
 
 [They torture hinu 
 But what fhall fpeak his Majefly or Mercy : 
 I'm honour'd in my Sufferings Weak Tormentors- 
 More Tortures, more alas ! you are unfkilful 
 For Heav'n's Sake more : My Breafl is yet untorn : 
 Here purchafe the Reward that was propounded. 
 The Irons cool, here are Arms yet, and Thighs ; 
 Spare no Part of me. 
 
 Max. He endures beyond 
 The SufTrance of a Man. 
 
 Sap. No Sigh nor Groan, 
 To witnefs he hath Feeling. 
 
 Diode. Harder, Villains !
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 179 
 
 Enter HarpaX. 
 
 Harp. Unlefs that he blafpheme, he's loft for ever : 
 If Torments ever could bring forth Defpair, 
 Let thefe compel him to it : Oh me ! 
 My ancient Enemies again ? [Falls dozvn. 
 
 Enter Dorothea in a white Robe, Crowns upon her Robe, 
 a Crown upon her Head, lead in by the Angel ; Antoninus, 
 Califte, and Chrifteta following, all in white, but lefs glo- 
 rious ; the Angel zvith a Crown for him. 
 
 Theoph. Moft glorious Vifion ! 
 Did e'er fo hard a Bed yield Man a Dream 
 So heavenly as this ? I am confirm 'd, 
 Confirm'd, you bleffed Spirits, and make Hafte 
 To take that Crown of Immortality 
 You offer to me ; Death, till this bleffed Minute, 
 I never thought thee flow-pac'd ! nor would I 
 Haften thee now, for any Pain I fuffer, 
 But that thou keepft me from a glorious Wreath, 
 Which, thro' this ftormy Way, I would creep to, 
 And humbly kneeling with Humility wear it. 
 Oh ! now I feel thee : Bleffed Spirits ! I come, 
 And, witnefs for me all thefe Wounds and Scars, 
 I die a Soldier in the Chriftian Wars. [Dies. 
 
 Sap. I've feen thoufands tortur'd, but ne'er yet 
 A Conflancy like this. 
 
 Harp. I am twice damn'd. 
 
 Ang. Hafte to thy Place appointed, curfed Fiend ! 
 In Spite of Hell, this Soldier's not thy Prey, 
 'Tis I have won, thou that hath loll, the Day. 
 
 [Exit Angelo. 
 
 Diode. I think the Centre of the Earth be crackt, 
 
 [The Devil finks zvith Thunder and Lightning. 
 Yet I (tend flill unmov'd, and will go on ;
 
 THE VIRGIN-MARTYR. 180 
 
 The Perfecution that is here begun, 
 Thro* all the World with Violence fliall run. 
 
 [Flour/Jh. Exeunt. 
 
 There is not much to be faid in Favour of this Play, which I con- 
 fider as the worft in this Collection. The Subject is unpleafing ; the 
 Incidents unnatural ; and the fupernatural Agents that are introdu- 
 ced to bring them about, afluming merely the characters of Men, 
 are deftitute of the Singularity, Wildnefs and Fancy, which renders 
 thofe fictitious Beings fo enchanting, which are raifedby the magical Pen 
 of Sbakefpcare : the Scenes between Hira'us and Spungim are detefta- 
 ble ; replete with Ribaldry of the moft abominable Kind, without 
 any Tincture of Wit or Humour : yet perhaps it is to thofe that the 
 Piece was indebted for the Applaufe it received on its Reprelenta- 
 tion. The firft Act, however, is well written ; and there are many 
 poetical Paffages difperfed through the Reft of the ferious Parts of it ; 
 yet, even in thefe, the Language is unequal; and I think it is not dif- 
 ficult to diftinguiih the Hand of Decker from that of MaJJlngcr. I 
 wifh I was authorized to pronounce with Certainty, that all the Co- 
 inick Scenes were the Production of the former. 
 
 End of The Virgin Martyr.
 
 ?. 
 
 THE 
 
 DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 TRAGEDY. 
 
 As it hath been often Acted by His Majesty's 
 Servants, at the Black-Friars, in the Year 1623. 
 
 
 
 WRITTEN BY 
 
 PHILLIP MASSINGER, Gent.
 
 T O 
 
 The Right Honourable, and much efteemedforher 
 High Birth, but more admired for her Virtue, 
 
 The Lady Katherine Stanhope, 
 
 Wife to P h i l i p Lord Stanhope, 
 
 Baron of Shelford. 
 
 MADAM,. 
 
 /F I were not tnoji ajfured that Works of this Nature have 
 found both Patronage and Protection amongjl the great* 
 ejl Princes of Italy, and are. at this Day cherijhed by 
 Perfons mqfl eminent in our Kingdom, IJJiould not prefume to 
 offer thefe my weak and imperfeU Labours at the Altar of 
 your Favour. Let the Example of others, more knowing, and 
 more experienced in this Kindnefs (if my Boldnefs offend) plead my 
 Pardon, and the rather fmce there is no ether Means left me, my 
 Misfortunes having ca/l me on this Courfe) to publijh to the 
 World (if it hold the leajl good Opinion of me) that I am ever 
 your Ladyjhifs Creature* Vouchfafe, therefore, with the ne- 
 ver-failing Clemency of your Noble Difpojition, not to contemn 
 the tender of his Duty, who while he is, will ever be 
 
 An humble Servant to your 
 
 Ladyfliip, and yours, 
 
 Philip M a s s i n g e r 
 Vol. I. N
 
 Dramatis Perfonse. 
 
 Ludovico Sforza, Duke of Milan. 
 Signior Francisco, his efpecial Favourite, 
 
 c ' > Lords of his Council. 
 
 JStephano, 5 
 
 Pescara, a Marquis, and Friend to Sforza. 
 
 Graccho, a Creature of Mariana^ Sifter to Sforza. 
 
 Charles, the Emperor. 
 
 Hernando, "] 
 
 Medina, I Captains to the Emperor. 
 
 Alphonso, J 
 
 Marcelia, the Dutchefs, Wife to Sforza* 
 
 Isabella, Mother to Sforza. 
 
 Mariana, Wife to Francisco, and Sifter to Sforza. 
 
 Eugenia, Sifter to Francisco. 
 
 Two Pofts, a Beadle, Waiters, Mutes,
 
 THE 
 
 DUKEofMILAN,* 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 Scene, a public Palace in Pifa 
 Graccho, Jovio, and Giovanni, with Flaggons. 
 
 Graccho, 
 
 T ^ A K E every Man his Flaggon : give the Oath 
 
 To all you meet : I'm this Day the State-drunkard \ 
 (fm fure againft my Will) And if you find 
 A Man, at ten, that's fober, he's a Traitor, 
 And, in my Name, arreft him. 
 
 Jov. Very good, Sir : 
 But, fay he be a Sexton ? 
 
 Grae. If the Bells 
 Ring out of Tune, as if the Street were burning, 
 And he cry, 'tis rare Mufick ; bid him flcep : 
 'Tis a Sign he has took his Liquor ; and, if you meet 
 An Officer preaching of Sobriety, 
 
 fl3" * I {hall not give any further Account of the tale in genera!, 
 than that it greatly refembles the famous one of Herod and Mariamne. 
 Sforta the Duke of Milan is drawn as ram, uxorious, and jealou9 f 
 and Marceiia his Wife as beautiful, proud and refentful. Sforza&fc* 
 obliges the Emperor Charles V. as Hero,l had done Otlavivs, and was 
 obliged to pay his Compliments in Peifon to make his Peace. During 
 his Abfence, he leaves the fame Charge with Franifco, his Favourite, 
 to cut off his Wife, that Herod did; and Marcclia difcovers it, in the 
 fame Manner with Marianne. Some other Circum dance* are differ 
 rent ; and the modern Play of that Name is more uniform and confif* 
 tent than this, but in my Opinion has not fo many fine independent 
 Paflages. 
 
 N i
 
 180 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Unlefs he read it in Geneva 1 Print, 
 Lay him by the Heels. 
 
 Jd6i But think you 'tis a Fault 
 To be found fober ? 
 
 Grac. It is Capital Treafon ; 
 Or, if you mitigate it, let fuch pay 
 Forty Crowns to the Poor : But give a Penfion 
 To all the Magistrates you find finging Catches 
 Or their Wives dancing; for the. Courtiers reeling, ' 
 And the Duke himfelf, (I dare not fay diftemper'd, 
 But kind, and in his tott'ring Chair caroufing) 
 They do the Country Service. If you meet 
 One that eats Bread, a Child of Ignorance, 
 And bred- up in the Darknefs of no drinking, 
 Againft his Will, you may initiate him, 
 In the true Pofturc ; tho' he die in the taking 
 'His Drench it ikills not : what's a private Man 
 For th' publick Honour ? We've nought elle to think on. 
 And fo, dear Ifnends, Copartners in my Travels, 
 Drink hard ; arid let the Health run thro* the City, 
 Until it reel again, and with me cry 
 Long live the Dutchefs ! 
 
 Enter Tiberio and Stephano. 
 
 Jov. Here are two Lords ; what think you ? 
 Shall we give the Oath to them ? 
 
 Grac'. Fie! no : I" know them, 
 You need not fwear 'erfr; your Lord, by his Patent, 
 Stands bound to take his Roufe. Long live the Dutchefs ! 
 
 [Exeunt Graccho and Jovio. 
 
 Steph. The Caufe of this ? But Yefterday the Court 
 Wore the fad Livery of Diftruft and Fear ; 
 No fmile, not in a "Buffoon to be feen 
 Or common Jefier : The Great Duke himfelf 
 Had Sorrow in his Face; which, waited on 
 By his Mother, Sifter, and his fairefl Dutchefs, 
 Difperfed a filent Mourning thro' all Milan ; 
 
 2 Alluding to the fpirituous Liquor fo called. M, M.
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 1S1 
 
 As if fome great Blow had been given the State, 
 Or were at leafi expected. 
 
 Tib. Stephano, 
 I know, as you are noble, you are honeft, 
 And capable of Secrets of more Weight 
 Than now I mail deliver. If that Sforza, 
 The prefent Duke, (tho' his whole Life hath been 
 But one continu'd Pilgrimage thro' Dangers, 
 Affrights, and Horrors, which his Fortune, guided 
 By his ftrong Judgment, Hill hath overcome) 
 Appears now ihaken, it deferves no Wonder : 
 All that his Youth hath labour'd for, the Harveft 
 Sown by his Induftry, ready to be reap'd too, 
 Being now at Stake ; and all his Hopes confirm'd, 
 Or loft for ever. 
 
 Steph. Lknow no fuch Hazard : 
 His Guards are ftrong, and Jdire : His Coffers full; 
 The People well affedted ; and io wifely 
 His provident Care hath wrought, that tho' War rages 
 In moll: Parts of our Weftern World, there is 
 No Enemy near us. 
 
 Tib. Dangers, that we fee 
 To threaten Ruin, are with Eafe prevented ; 
 But fhotb flrike deadly, that come unexpected ; 
 The Lightning is far off, yet, foon as feen, 
 We may behold the terrible Effects 
 That it produceth. But Pll help your Knowledge, 
 And make his Caufe of Fear familiar to you. 
 The Wars, fo long continued between 
 The Emperor Charles, and Francis the French King 
 Have int'refted, in either's Caufe, the mod 
 Of the Italian Princes ; Among which, Sforza, 
 As one of greateft Power, was ibught by both ; 
 But with AiTurance having one his Friend, 
 The other liv'd his Enemy. 
 
 Step. 'Tis true ; 
 And 'twas a doubtful Choice. 
 
 Tib. But he, well knowing 
 And hating too, (it feems)-the Spaniflj Pride, 
 Lent his Ailiftance to the King of France : 
 
 N 2
 
 t8z THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Which hath fo far incens'd the Emperor, 
 That all his Hopes and Honours are cmbark'd 
 With his great Patron's Fortune. 
 
 Steph. Which (lands fair, 
 For aught I yet can hear. 
 
 Tib. But mould it change, 
 The Duke's undone. They have drawn to the Field 
 Two Royal Armies, full of fiery Youth ; 
 Of equal Spirit to dare, and Power to do : 
 So near intrench'd, that 'tis beyond all Hope 
 Of Human Counfel they can e'er be fever'd 
 Until it be determin'd by the Sword, 
 Who hath the better Caufe : For the Succefs 
 Concludes the Victor innocent and the Vanquifh'd 
 Molt miferably guilty. How uncertain 
 The Fortune of the War is, Children know ; 
 And, it being in Sufpenfe, on whofe fair Tent 
 Wing'd Victory will make her glorious Stand, 
 You cannot blame the Duke tho' he appear 
 Perplex'd and troubled. 
 
 Steph. But why, then, 
 In fuch a Time when every Knee mould bend 
 For the Succefs and Safety of his Perfon, 
 Are thefe loud Triumphs ? In my weak Opinion, 
 They are unfeafonable, 
 
 Tib. I judge fo too ; 
 But only in the Caufe to be excus'd ; 
 It is the Dutchefs' Birth-day, once a Year 
 Solemniz'd, with all Pomp and Ceremony ; 
 In which the Duke is not his own but hers. 
 Nay, every Day indeed he is her Creature, 
 For never Man fo doted : But to tell 
 The tenth Part of his Fondnefs to a Stranger, 
 Would argue me of Fiction. 
 
 Steph. She's, indeed, 
 A Lady of moft exquifite Form, 
 
 Tib. She knows it, 
 And how to prize it. 
 
 Steph. I ne'er heard her tainted, 
 Jn any Point of Honour.
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 183 
 
 Tib, On my Life, 
 She's conftant to his Bed, and well deferves 
 His largcft Favours. But, when Beauty is 
 Stampt on great Women (great in Birth and Fortune, 
 And blown by Flatt'rers greater than it is) 
 'Tis feldom unaccompany'd with Pride; 
 Nor is me that Way free : Prefuming on 
 The Duke's Affedtion and her own Defert, 
 She bears herfelf with fuch a Majefty, 
 Looking with Scorn on all, as Things beneath her ; 
 That Sforza's Mother, (that would lofe no Part 
 Of what was once her own ;) nor his fair Sifter, 
 (A Lady too, acquainted with her Worth) 
 Will brook it well ; and howfoc'er their Hate 
 Is fmother'd for a Time, 'tis more than fear'd, 
 It will at length break out. 
 
 Steph, He, in whofe Pow'r it is, 
 Turn all to th' befl ! 
 
 Tib, Come, let us to the Court, 
 We there mall fee all Bravery, and Coft, 
 That Art can boaftof. 
 
 Steph, I'll bear you Company. [Exeunt* 
 
 SCENE. II. 
 
 Scene changes to the Court, 
 
 "Enter Francifco, Ifabella, and Mariana. 
 
 Mart. I will not go ; I fcorn to be a Spot 
 In her proud Train. 
 
 Ijab. Shall I, that am his Mother, 
 Be fo indulgent as to wait on her 
 That owes me Duty ? 
 
 . Fran, 'Tis done to the Duke 
 And not to her. And, my fweet Wife, remember, 
 And, Madam, if you pleafe, receive my Counfel, 
 As Sforza is your Son, you may command him ; 
 And, as a Sifter, you may challenge from him 
 
 N 4
 
 i$4 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 A Brother's Love and Favour : But, this granted, 
 Confider he's the Prince, and you his Subjects ; 
 And not to queftion or contend with her 
 Whom he is pleas'd to honour. Private Men 
 Prefer their Wives ; and ftiall he, being a Prince, 
 And bleft with one that is the Varadife 
 Of Sweetnefs, and of Beauty, to whofe Charge 
 The Stock of Women's Goodnefs is given up, 
 Not ufe her like herfelf? 
 
 Ifab, You're ever forward 
 To ling her Praifes. 
 
 Mart, 'Others are as fair ; 
 I'm fure as noble. 
 
 Fran. I detract from none, 
 In giving her what's due. Were fhe deform'd, 
 Yet being the Dutchefs, I (land bound to fervc her ; 
 But, as ihe is, to admire her. Never Wife 
 Met with a purer Heat her Hufband's Fervour; 
 A happy Pair, one in the other bleft! 
 She confident in herfelf, he's wholly hers, 
 And cannot feek for change : and he fecure 
 That 'tis not in the Power of Man to tempt her. 
 And therefore, to conteft with her, that is 
 The ftronger and the better Part of him, 
 Is more than folly. You know him of a Nature 
 Not to be play'd with; and, mould you forget 
 To obey him as your Prince he'll not remember 
 The Duty that he owes you, 
 
 Ifab. ^Tis but Truth: 
 Come, clear our Brows, and let us to the Banquet ; 
 But not to ferve his Idol. 
 
 Mart. I ihall do 
 What may become the Sifter of a Prince ; 
 But will not ftoop beneath it. 
 
 Fran, Yet, be wife ; 
 Soar not too high to fall ; but ftoop to rife, [Exeunt.
 
 THE DUKE OF MI LAN". 185 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Enter three Gentlemen fet ting forth a Banquet. 
 
 1 Gent. Quick, quick, for Love's Sake ! let the Court 
 
 put on 
 Her choicer!: Outfide : Coft and Bravery 
 Be only thought of. 
 
 2 Gent. All that may be had 
 
 To pleafe the Eye, the Ear, Tafte, Touch, or Smell, 
 Are carefully provided. . 
 
 3 Gent. There's a Mafque : 
 Have you heard what's the Invention ? 
 
 1 Gent. No Matter : 
 It is intended for the Dutchefs' Honour ; 
 And if it give her glorious Attributes, 
 As die molt fair, molt virtuous, and the reft, 
 'Twill pleafe the Duke. They come. 
 
 3 Gent. All is in Order. 
 
 Enter Tiberio, Stephano, Francifco, Sforza, Marcelia, 
 Ifabella, Mariana, and Attendants* 
 
 Sfor. You are the Miftrefs of the Fcaft Sit here,. 
 O my Soul's Comfort i and when Sforza bows 
 Thus low to do you Honour, let none think 
 The meanest Service they can pay my Love, 
 But as a fair Addition to thofe Titles 
 They ftand pofTeft of. Let me glory in 
 My Happinefs, and mighty Kings look pale 
 With Envy, while I triumph in mine own. 
 O Mother, look on her ! Sifter, admire her ! 
 And, fince this prefent Age yields not a Woman 
 Worthy to be her fecond, borrow of 
 Times paft.: And let Imagination help ' 
 
 3 And let Imagination , &c. 
 This Paflage is fomewhat embarrafled, but the Senfe of it is this ; 
 That tho' in fafhioning in their Minds the Phcenix of Perfe&ion 
 they fhould be atTifted by a Recolleclion of the mod boafted Ladies 
 of Antiquity, they muft llill xronfefs that Perfection was to be found 
 in MantUa only. M. M,
 
 iS6 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Of thofe canoniz'd Ladies Sparta boafts of, 
 And, in her Greatnefs, Rome was proud to owe, 
 To Fafliion, and yet ftill you muft confefs, 
 The Vhoenix of Perfection ne'er was feen, 
 But in my fair Marcelia. 
 
 Fran. She's, indeed, 
 The Wonder of all Times. 
 
 Tib. Your Excellence, 
 (Tho' I confefs you give her but her own) 
 Enforces her Modefty to the Defence 
 OfafweetBlufli. 
 
 Sfor. It need not, my Marcelia ; 
 When moft I ftrive to praife thee, I appear 
 A poor Detractor : For thou art indeed 
 So perfect both in Body and in Mind, 
 That, but to fpeak the leaft Part to the Height, 
 Would afk an Angel's Tongue ! and yet then end 
 In filent Admiration ! 
 
 Ifab. You ftill court her, 
 As if fhe were a Miftrefs, not your Wife. 
 
 Sfor. A Miftrefs, Mother ? She is more to me, 
 And ev'ry Day deferves more to be fu'd to. 
 Such as are cloy'd with thofe they have embrac'd, 
 May think their wooing done. No Night to me 
 But is a bridal one, where Hymen lights 
 His Torches frefh and new ; and thofe Delights, 
 Which are not to be cloth'd in airy Sounds, 
 Enjoy'd beget Defires as full of Heat 
 And jovial Fervour, aswhenfirft I tafted 
 Her Virgin Fruit : Bleft Night ! and be it number'd 
 Amongft thofe happy ones, in which a Bleffing 
 Was, by the full Confent of all the Stars 
 Conferr'd upon Mankind. 
 
 Marc. My worth ieft Lord ! 4 
 
 4 My wortbicft Lord! 
 
 #3" Milton fecms to have copied this in his ParadifeLqfi. Eve fays 
 to Adam, 
 
 O Sole in whom my Thoughts find all Repofe, 
 " My Glory, my Perfe&ioo." Boek 5. V. 28,
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 187 
 
 The only Object I behold with Pleafure ! 
 My Pride, my Glory ! in a Word, my all ! 
 Bear Witnefs, Heaven, that I efteem myfelf 
 In nothing worthy of the meaneft Praife 
 You can beftow, unlefs it be in this, 
 That in my Heart I love and honour you. 
 And, but that it would fmell of Arrogance, 
 To fpeak my ftrong Defire and Zeal to ferve you, 
 I then could fay, thefe Eyes yet never faw 
 The rifing Sun, but that my Vows, and Prayers 
 Were fent to Heav'n for the Profperity 
 And Safety of my Lord : Nor have I ever 
 Had other Study but how to appear 
 Worthy your Favour ; and that my Embraces 
 Might yield a fruitful Harveft of Content 
 For all your noble Travel, in the Purchafe 
 Of her that's ftill your Servant ; by thefe Lips, 
 (Which, pardon me, that I prefume to kifs ) . 
 
 Sfor. O Sweet, for ever fwear ! 
 
 Marc. I ne'er will feek 
 Delight, but in your Pleafure ; and defire, 
 When you are fated with all earthly Glories, 
 And Age and Honours make you fit for Heaven, 
 That one Grave may receive us, 
 
 Sfor. Tis believ'd, 
 Believ'd, my blefr. One. 
 
 Man. How fhe winds herfelf 
 Into his Soul ! \Ajide* 
 
 Sfor. Sit all. Let others feed 
 On thofe grofs Cates, while Sforza banquets with 
 Immortal Viands ta'en in at his Eyes. 
 I could live ever thus. Command the Eunuch 
 To fing the Ditty that I laft compofed, 
 
 Enter Pofl. 
 
 In Praife of my Marcella. From whence ? 
 
 Pofl. From Pavia, my dread Lord. 
 
 Sfor, Speak, is all loll ? 
 
 Pojl. The Letter will inform you.
 
 iS8 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Fran. How his Hand fhakes, 
 As he receives it ! \_Ajide, 
 
 Marl. This is Tome Allay 
 To his hot Paflion. \Af\de, 
 
 Sfor. Tho' it bring Death, I'll read it. 
 
 May it pleafe your Excellence to underfland, that the 
 very Hour I wrote this, I heard a bold Defiance delivered 
 by a Herald from the Emperor, which was cheerfully re- 
 ceived by the King of France. The Battle being ready 
 to join, and the Van-guard committed to my Charge, in- 
 forces me to end abruptly. 
 
 Tour Highnefss Servant, 
 
 Gafpero, 
 
 Ready to join ? By this, then, I am nothing; 
 Or my Eftate lecure. 
 
 Marc My Lord ! 
 
 Sfor, To doubt, 
 Is worfe than to have loft ; and to defpair, 
 Is but to antedate thofe Miferies 
 That mnft fall on us; all my Hopes depending, 
 Upon this Battle's Fortune. In my Soul, 
 Methinks, there fhould be that imperious Power, 
 By fupernatural, not ufual Means, 
 T' inform me what I am. The Caufe confider'd, 
 Why mould I fear ? The French are bold and ftrong, 
 Their Numbers full, and in their Councils wife : 
 But then, the haughty Spaniard is all Fire, 
 Hot in his Executions ; fortunate 
 In his Attempts ; married to Victory : 
 Aye, there it is that makes me. 
 
 Fran. Excellent Lady, 
 This Day was dedicated to your Honour ; 
 One Gale of your fweet Breath will eafily 
 Difperfe thefe Clouds : and, but yourlelf, there's none 
 That dare fpeak to him. 
 
 Marc. I will run the Hazard. 
 My Lord !
 
 THE t>UKE OF MILAN. 189 
 
 Sfor. Ha ! Pardon me, Marcelia; I am troubled 
 And ftand uncertain, whether I am Matter 
 Of aught that's worth the owning. 
 
 Marc. I am yours, Sir ; 
 And I have heard you fwear, I being fafe, 
 There was no Lofs could move you. This Day, Sir, 
 Is by your Gift made mine : Can you revoke 
 A Grant made to Marcelia ? Your Marcelia ? 
 For whofe Love, nay, whofe Honour, gentle Sir, 
 (All deep Defigns, and State-affairs deterr'd) 
 Be, as you purpos'd, merry. 
 
 Sfor. Out of my Sight, 5 
 And all Thoughts that may ftrangle Mirth forfake me. 
 Fall what can fall> I dare the worit of Fate ; 
 Tho' the Foundation of the Earth mould fhrink, 
 The glorious Eye of Heaven lofe his Splendor ; 
 Supported thus, I'll ftand upon the Ruins, 
 
 And feek for new Life here Why are you fad ? 
 
 No other Sports ? By Heav'n he's not my Friend, 
 That wears one Furrow in his Face. I was told 
 There was a Mafque. 
 
 Fran. They wait your Highnefs' Pleafure, 
 And when you pleafe to have it. 
 
 Sfor. Bid 'em enter : 
 Come, make me happy once again, I am rap't, 
 'Tis not to-day, to-morrow, or the next, 
 But all my Days, and Years, lhall be employ'd 
 To do thee Honour. 
 
 Marc. And my Life to ferve you. [A Hon:. 
 
 Sfor. Another Poft ? Go hang hini, hang him. 
 
 . Ifay; 
 I will not interrupt my prefent Pleafures, 
 Altho' his Meflage mould import my Head : 
 Hang him, I fay. 
 
 5 Out of my Sight, &c. 
 
 He is here fuppofed to throw away the Letter, to which ti>efe 
 Words are addreffed. M. M.
 
 190 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Marc, Nay, good Sir, I am pleas'd 
 To grant a little Intermiflion to you ; 
 Who knows but he brings News we wifli to hear, 
 To heighten our Delights. 
 
 Sfor. As wife as fair. 
 
 Enter another PoJ!. 
 
 From Gafpero ? 
 
 PoJ}. That, was my Lord* 
 
 Sfor. How, dead ? 
 
 Pojt. With the Delivery of this, and Prayers, 
 To guard your Excellency from certain Dangers, 
 He ceas'd to be a Man. 
 
 Sfor. All that my Fears 
 Could fafhion to me, or my Enemies wifh, 
 Is fall'n upon me. Silence that harm Mufick : 
 'Tis now unfeafonable. A tolling Bell, 
 As a fad Harbinger to tell me, that 
 This pamper'd Lump of Flefh muft feaft the Worms ; 
 Is fitter for me 1 am lick. 
 
 Marc, My Lord ? 
 
 Sfor. Sick to Death, Marcelia. Remove 
 Thefe Signs of Mirth; they were ominous, and but ufher'd 
 Sorrow and Ruin. 
 
 Marc. Blefs us, Heaven ! 
 
 I fab. My Son ! 
 
 Marc, What fudden Change is this ? 
 
 Sfor. All leave the Room ; 
 I'll bear alone the Burden of my Grief, 
 And muft admit no Partner. I am yer 
 Your Prince, where's your Obedience > Stay, Marcelia', 
 I cannot be (b greedy of a Sorrow 
 In which you muft not {hare. 
 
 Marc. And chearfully 
 I will liiftain my Part Why look you pale ? 
 Where is that wonted Conftancy, and bunige, 
 That clar'd the worft of Fortune ? Where vi Stated, 
 To whom all Dangers that fright common Men, 
 Appear'd but panick Terrors ? Why do you eye mr
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. i 9 i 
 
 With fuch fix'd Looks ? Love, Counfel, Duty, Service, 
 May flow from me, not Danger. 
 
 Sfor, O Marcelia ! 
 It is for thee I fear : For thee, thy Sforza 
 Shakes like a Coward ; for myfelf, unmov'd 
 I could have heard my Troops were cut in Pieces, 
 My General (lain ; and he, on whom my Hopes 
 Of Rule, of State, of Life, had their Dependence, 
 The King of France, my greateft Friend, made Priibner 
 To fo proud Enemies. 
 
 Marc, Then you have juft Caufe 
 To fhew you are a Man. 
 
 Sfor, All this were nothing, 
 Tho' I add to it, that 1 am ailur'd, 
 For giving Aid to this unfortunate King, 
 The Emperor incens'd lays his Command 
 On his victorious Army, flefh'd with Spoil, 
 And bold of Conqueft, to march upagainft me, 
 And fcize on my Eftates : Snppole that done too 5 
 The City tak'n, the Kennels running Blood, 
 The ranfack'd Temples falling on their Saints : 
 My Mother, in my Sight, tofs'd on their Pikes, 
 And Sifter ravifh'd ; and myfelf bound faft 
 In Chains, to grace their Triumph ; or what elfe 
 An Enemy's Infolence could load me with, 
 I would be Sforza ftill. But, when I think 
 That my Marcelia (to whom, all thefe 
 Are but as Atoms to the greateft Hill) 
 Muft fuffer in my Caufe ; and for me fuffer ! 
 All earthly Torments, nay, ev'n thofe the Damn'd 
 Howl for in Hell, are gentle Strokes, compar'd 
 To what I feel, Marcelia, 
 
 Marc, Good Sir, have Patience : 
 I can as well partake your adverfe Fortune, 
 As I thus long have had an ample Share 
 In your Profperity. 'Tis not in the Power 
 Of Fate to alter me : For while I am, 
 In fpight of it, I'm yours. 
 
 Sfor, But were that Will, 
 To be fo, fore'd, Marcelia f and I live
 
 i 9 2 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 To fee thofe Eyes I prize above my own, 
 Dart Favours (tho' compel I'd) upon another ? 
 Or thofe fweet Lips (yielding immortal Nectar) 
 Be gently touch'd by any but myfclf ? 
 Think, think, Marcelia, what a curfed Thing 
 I weie, beyond Exprcffion. 
 
 Marc, Do not feed 
 Thofe jealous Thoughts : the only Blefling that 
 Heav'n hath beftow'd on us, more than on Beads, 
 Is, that 'tis in our Pleafure when to die. 
 Befides, were I now -in another's Power, 
 There are fo many Ways to let out Life, 
 I would not live, for one fhort Minute, his; 
 I was born only yours, and I will die fo. 
 
 Sfor. Angels reward the Goodnefs of this Woman : 
 
 Enter Francifco. 
 
 All I can pay is nothing. \Afide.~\ Why uncall'd for ? 
 
 Fran. It is of Weight, Sir, that makes me thus prefs 
 Upon your Privacies. Your conftant Friend, 
 The Marquis of Pefcara, tired with Hafte, 
 Hath Bufinefs that concerns your Life and Fortunes, 
 And with Speed, to impart. 
 
 Sfor. Wait on him hither. [Exit Francifco. 
 
 And, Deareft, to thy Clofet: Let thy Prayer* 
 Affift my Councils. 
 
 Marc. To fpare Imprecations 
 Againftmyfelf, without you I am nothing. [.v//Marcelia. 
 
 Sfor. The Marquis of Pefcara ? a great Soldier -, 
 And, tho' he ferv'd upon the adverfe Party, 
 Ever my conftant Friend. 
 
 Enter Francifco and Pefcara- 
 
 Fran. Yonder he walks, 
 Full of fad Thoughts. 
 
 Pefc. Blame him not, good Francifco, 
 He hath much Caufe to grieve. Would I might end ia t 
 And not add this, to fear.
 
 THE DUKE OF JillLAN. 193 
 
 * Sfbr. My dear Pefcara ! 
 A Miracle in thefe Times ! a Friend, and happy, 
 Cleaves to a falling Fortune. 
 
 Pefc. If it were 
 As well in my weak Power, in Act to raife it, 
 As 'tis to bear a Part of Sorrow with you ; 
 You then fhould have juft Caufe to fay, Pefcara 
 Look'd not upon your State, but on your Virtues, 
 When he made Suit to be writ in the Lift 
 
 Or thofe you favour'd. But my Hafte forbids 
 
 All Compliment : Thus, then, Sir, to the Purpofe. 
 The Caule that, unattended, brought me hither, 
 Was not to tell you of your Lofs, or Danger ; 
 (For Fame hath many Wings to bring ill Tidings, 
 And I prefume you've heard it) but to give you 
 Such friendly Counfel, as, perhaps, may make 
 Your fad Difafter lefs. 
 
 Sfor. You are all Goodnefs, 
 And I give up myfelf to be difpos'd of, 
 As in your- Wifdom you think fit. 
 
 Pefc* Thus, then, Sir. 
 To hope you can hold out againft the Emperor, 
 Were flatt'ring yourfelf, to your Undoing : 
 Therefore, the fafeft Courfe that you can take, 
 Is, to give up yourfelf to his Difcretion 
 Before you be compell'd ; for, reft aflur'd, 
 A voluntary Yielding may find Grace, 
 And will admit Defence, at leaft Excufe : 
 But, mould you linger doubtful, till his Powers 
 Have feiz'd your Perfon and Eftates per Force, 
 You muft expect Extremes. 
 
 Sfor. I underftand you ; 
 And I will put your Conhfel into Aft, 
 And fpeedily. J. only will take order 
 For fome domeftical Affairs, that do 
 Concern me nearly, and with the next Sun 
 Ride with you In the mean time, my beft Friend, 
 Pray take your Reft. 
 
 Vol. I. O
 
 i 9 4 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Pefc, Indeed, I've travell'd hard, 
 And will embrace your Counfel. [Exit Pefcara. 
 
 Sfor. With all Care, 
 Attend my noble Friend. Stay you, Francifco, 
 You fee how Things Hand with me ? 
 
 Fran, To my Grief : 
 And if the Lofs of my poor Life could be 
 A Sacrifice to reftorc them as they were, 
 I willingly would lay it down. 
 
 Sfor, I think fo ; 
 For I have ever found you true and thankful, 
 Which makes me love the Building I have rais'd 
 In your Advancement ; and repent no Grace, 
 I have conferr'd upon you : And, believe me, 
 Tho' now I mould repeat my Favours to you, 
 The Tides I have given you, and the Means 
 Suitable to your Honours : That I thought you 
 Worthy my Siller and my Family, 
 And in my Dukedom made you nextmyfelf ; 
 It is not to upbraid you ; but to tell you 
 I find you're worthy of them, in your Love 
 And Service to me. 
 
 Fran. Sir, I am your Creature ; 
 And any Shape, that you would have me wear 
 I gladly will put on. 
 
 Sfor, Thus, then, Francifco ; 
 I now am to deliver to your Truft 
 A weighty Secret, 6 of fo flrange a Nature, 
 And 'twill, I know, appear fo monflrous to you, 
 That you will tremble in the Execution, 
 As much as I am tortur'd to command it : 
 For 'tis a Deed fo horrid, that, but to hear it, 
 Would ftrike into a Ruffian flem'd in Murthers, 
 Or an obdurate Hangman, foft Compaflion j 
 
 C^f" 6 / ntnv am to deliver to your Trufi 
 A 'weighty Secret, 
 
 The Manner of S/orza breaking his Mind to Francifco, in the en- 
 fuing Scene, with refpecl: to Marcelia, is finely painted, and has a 
 ftrange Mixture of Cruelty and Reflection, Delicacy and Madnefs,
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. i 95 
 
 And yet, Francifio (of all Men the deareft, 
 And from me moft deferving) fuch my State 
 And ftrange Condition is, that thou alone 
 Mult know the fatal Service, and perform it. 
 
 Fran. Thefe Preparations, Sir, to work a Stranger,. 
 Or to one unacquainted with your Bounties, 
 Might appear uieful ; but to me they are 
 Needlefs Impertinencies : For I dare do 
 Whate'er you dare command. 
 
 Sfor. But thou muft fwear it, 
 And put into thy Oath all Joys or Torments 
 That fright the Wicked, or confirm the Good : 
 Not to conceal it only (that is nothing) 
 But, whenfoe'er my Will mall {pcak } Jirike now ; 
 To fall upon't like Thunder. 
 
 Fran. Minifter 
 The Oath in any Way, or Form you pleafe, 
 I ftand refolv'd to take it. 
 
 Sfor. Thou muft do, then, 
 What no malevolent Star will dare to look on, 
 It is fo wicked : For which Men will curfe thee 
 For being the Inftrument ; and the bleft Angels 
 Forfake me at my Need for being the Author : 
 For 'tis a Deed of Night, of Night, Francifco, 
 In which the Memory of all good Actions 
 We can pretend to, mall be buried quick : 
 Or, if we be remember'd, it fhall be 
 To fright Pofterity by our Example, 
 That have outgone all Precedents of Villains 
 That were before us ; and fuch as fucceed, 
 Tho' taught in Hell's black School, lhall ne'er come 
 
 near us. 
 Art thou not fhaken yet ?. 
 
 Fran. I grant you move me : 
 But to a Man confirm'd 
 
 Sfor. I'll try your Temper : 
 What think you of my Wife ? 
 
 Fran* As a Thing facred : 
 O z
 
 i 9 6 THE DUK OF MILAN. 
 
 To whofe fair Name and Memory I pay gladly 
 
 Thefe Signs of Duty. [Kneels* 
 
 Sfor. Is fhe not the Abftract 
 Of all that's rare, or to be wifh'd in Woman ? 
 
 Fran, It were a Kind of Blafphemy to difpute it ; 
 i But to the Purpofe, Sir. 
 
 Sfor. Add to her Goodnefs, 
 Her Tendernefs of me, her Care to pleafe me ; 
 Her unfufpetted Chaftity, ne'er equaU'd ; 
 Her Innocence, her Honour O I am loft 
 In the Ocean of her Virtues and her Graces 
 When I think of them. 
 
 Fran. Now I find the End 
 Of all your Conjurations : There's fome Service 
 To be done for this fweet Lady. If fhe have Enemies 
 That me would have remov'd 
 
 Sfor. Alas ! Francifco, 
 Her greateft Enemy is her greateft. Lover ; 
 Yet, in that Hatred, her Idolater. 
 One Smile of her's would make a Savage tame ; 
 One Accent of that Tongue would calm the Seas, 
 Tho' all the Winds at once ftrove there for Empire. 
 Yet I, for whom fhe thinks all this too little, 
 Should I rnifcarry in this prefent Journey, 
 (From whence it is all Number to a Cypher, 
 I ne'er return with Honour) by thy Hand 
 Muft have her murther'd. 
 
 Frar., Murther'd ! She that loves fo, 
 And fo deferves to be belov'd again ? 
 And I, who fometimes you were pleas'd to favour, 
 Pick'd out the Inftrument ? 
 
 Sfor. Do not fly off: 
 What is decreed can never be recall'd ; 
 'Tis more than Love to her, that marks her out 
 A wifh'd Companion to me in both Fortunes : 
 And ftrong Aflbrance of thy zealous Faith, 
 That gives up to thy Truft a Secret that 
 Racks mould not have forc'd from jne O Frantifo, 
 There is no Heav'n without her ; nor a Hell, 
 Where me rcfides. I aft. from her but Juftice,
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 197 
 
 And what I would have paid to her, had Sicknefs, 
 
 Or any other Accident, divorc'd 
 
 Her purer Soul from her unfpotted Body. 
 
 The ilaviih Indian Princes when /they die, 
 
 Are cheerfully attended to the Fire 
 
 By the Wife and Slave that living they lov'd beft, 
 
 To do them Service in another World : 
 
 Nor will I be lefs honour'd, that love more. 
 
 And therefore trifle not, but in thy Looks 
 
 Exprefs a ready Purpofe to perform 
 
 What I command ; or, by Marcelia's Soul, 
 
 This is thy lateft Minute* 
 
 Fran, 'Tis not Fear 
 Of Death, but Love to you, makes me embrace it* 
 But for mine own Security, when 'tis done, 
 What Warrant have I ? If you pleafe to fign one^ 
 I mall* tho' with Unwillingnefs and Horror, 
 Perform your dreadful Charge. 
 
 Sfor* I will, Francifco : 
 But ftill remember that a Prince's Secrets 
 Are Balm, conceal'd ; but Poifon if difcover'd* 
 I may come back ; then this is but a Trial 
 To purchafe thee, if it were poffible, 
 A nearer Place in my Affection but 
 I know thee honeft. 
 
 Fran, 'Tis a Character 
 I will not part with. 
 
 Sfor. I may live to reward it* * [Exeunt* 
 
 7 This Scene is fo exquifitely written, that I (ball venture to re- 
 queft that the Reader will compare it with one of the molt admired 
 Scenes in Shahfpeare ; I mean that between King John and Hubert , 
 Without fearing that this Comparifon will lower their Idea of Majfm- 
 gtr\ Abilities, M. M, 
 
 End of the Firfi M. 
 O3
 
 198 THE DUKE OF MILAN* 
 
 A C T II. S C E N E I. 
 
 Scene, A Court belonging to the Palace. 
 
 Enter Tiberio and Stephano. 
 
 Stephano. 
 
 TJOW? left the Court ? 
 
 1 JL 'fib. Without Guard or Retinue 
 
 Fitting a Prince. 
 
 Steph. No Enemy near to force him 
 To leave his own Strengths, yet -deliver up 
 Himfelf, as 'twere, in Bonds, to the Difcretion 
 Of him that hates him ? 'Tis beyond Example. 
 You never heard the Motives that induc'd him 
 To this itrange Courfe ? 
 
 Tib. No, thole are Cabinet Councils, 
 And not to be communicated, but 
 
 To fuch as are his own and fure.^ Alas ! 
 
 We fill up empty Places, and in publick 
 
 Are taught to give our Suffrages to that 
 
 Which was before determin'd ; and are fafe (o. 
 
 Signior Francifco (upon whom alone 
 
 His abiblute Power is with all Strength conferr'd, 
 
 During his Abfence) can with Eafe refolve you : 
 
 To me, they're Riddles. 
 
 Steph. Well, he mail not be 
 My OEdipus ; I'll rather dwell in Darknefs. 
 But, my good Lord Tiberio, this Francifco 
 Is, on the fudden, flrangely rais'd. 
 
 Tib. O Sir, 
 He took the thriving Courfe : He had a Sifter, 
 A fair one too, with whom (as it is rumour'd) 
 The Duke was too familiar ; but fhe, caft off 
 (What Promifes foever pall between them)
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 199 
 
 Upon the Sight of this 8 forfook the Court, 
 And iince was never feen. To fmother this, 
 (As Honours never fail to purchafe Silence) 
 francifco firfl was grac'd, and Step by Step 
 Is rais'd up to this Height. 
 
 Steph. But how is his Abfence borne ? 
 
 Tib. Sadly, it feems, 
 By the Dutchefs ; for, flnce he left the Court, 
 For the molt Part {he hath kept her private Chamber* 
 No Vifitants admitted. In the Church, 
 She h.ath been feen to pay her pure Devotions, 
 Seafon'd with Tears ; and lure her Sorrow's true, 
 Or deeply counterfeited. Pomp, and State, 
 And Bravery's call: off; and me, that lately 
 Rival'd Poppa a in her varied Shapes, 
 Or the ^Egyptian Queen ; now, widow-like, 
 In fable Colours (as 9 her Hufband's Dangers 
 Strangled in her the Ufe of any Pleafurej 
 Mourns for his Abfence. 
 
 Steph. It becomes her Virtue, 
 And does confirm what was reported of her. 
 
 Tib. You take it right : but, on the other Side, 
 The Darling of his Mother, Mariana, 
 As there were an Antipathy between 
 Her and the Dutchefs' Paffions ; and as 
 She'd no Dependence on her Brother's Fortune, 
 She ne'er appear'd fo full of Mirth. 
 
 Steph. Tis flrange. . 
 
 Enter Graceho, with Fiddlers. 
 
 But fee her Favourite ; and accompany'd, 
 To your Report. 
 
 Grac. You lhall fcrape, and I'll fing 
 A fcurvy Ditty to a fcurvy Tune, 
 Repine who dares. 
 
 8 That is, the prefent Dutchefs. M. Mi 
 
 9 ^j means hererfij/,andi9frequent!yufed foin thefe Plays. M. M. 
 
 O 4
 
 200 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 F'idL But, if we mould offend, 
 The Dutchefs having filcnc'd us : And thefe Lords 
 Stand by to hear us 
 
 Grac. They, in Name, are Lords ; 
 But I am one in Power : And, for the Dutchefs, 
 But yefterday we were merry for her Pleafure, 
 We now'll be for my Lady's. 
 
 Tib. Signior Graccbo f 
 
 Grac. A poor Man, Sir, a Servant to the Princefs : 
 But you're great Lords and Counfellors of State, 
 Whom I Itand bound to reverence. 
 
 Tib. Come, we know 
 You are a Man in Grace. 
 
 Grac. Fye ! no : I grant, 
 I bear my Fortunes patiently ; fcrve the Princefs, 
 And have Accefs at all Times to her Clofet, 
 Such is my Impudence ! when your grave Lordfhips 
 Are Matters of the Modefly to attend 
 Three Hours, nay fometimes four ; and then bid wait 
 Upon her the next Morning. 
 
 Steph. He derides us. 
 
 Tib. Pray you what News is flirring ? You know all. 
 
 Grac. Who, I ? Alas ! I've no Intelligence 
 At Home nor abroad : I only fometimes guefs 
 The Change of the Times ;: I mould aik of your Lord- 
 
 Ihips 
 Who are to keep their Honours, who to lofe 'em ; , 
 Whom the Dutchefs fmil'd on laft, or on whom frown'd, 
 You only can refolve me. We poor Waiters 
 Deal (as you fee) in Mirth, and foolim Fiddles : 
 It is our Element ; and could you tell me 
 What Point of State 'tis that I am commanded 
 To mutter up this Mufick, on mine Honetty, 
 You would much befriend me. 
 
 Steph. Sirrah ! you grow faucv. 
 
 Tib. And would be laid by th' Heels. 
 
 Grac. Not by your Lordfhips, 
 Without a fpecial Warrant ; look to your own Stakes ; 
 Were I committed, here come thofe would bail me ; 
 Perhaps, we might change Places too.
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. aot 
 
 Enter Ifabella and Mariana. 
 lib. The Princefs 
 
 We mull be patient. 
 
 Stepk. There's no contending. 
 
 Tib. See, the informing Rogue ! 
 
 Steph. That we mould ftoop 
 To fuch a Muihroom ! 
 
 Mart. Thou dofl miftake ; they durft not 
 Ufe the leaft Word of Scorn, altho' provok'd, 
 To any Thing of mine. Go, get you Home, 
 And to your Servants, Friends, and Flatterers, number 
 How many Defcents you're noble : Look to your 
 
 Wives too ; 
 The fmooth-chin'd Courtiers are abroad. 
 
 Tib. No Way to be a Freeman ? 
 
 {Exeunt Tib. and Steph. 
 
 Grac. Your Excellence hath the beft Gift to difpatch 
 Thefe Arras Pictures of Nobility, 
 I ever read of. 
 
 Man. I can fpeak fometimes. 
 
 Grac. And cover fo your bitter Pills with Sweetnefs 
 Of princely Language to forbid Reply, 
 They're greedily fwallow'd. 
 
 Ijab. But to the Purpofe, Daughter, 
 That brings us hither I Is it to beitow 
 A Vifit on this Woman, that, becaufe 
 She only would be thought truly to grieve 
 The Abfence and the Dangers of my Son 
 Proclaims a general Sadneis ? 
 
 Mari. If to vex her 
 May be interpreted to do her Honour, . 
 She mall have many of 'em > to I'll make Ufe 
 Of my fhort Reign : My Lord now governs all ; 
 And (he fhall know, that, her Idolater, 
 My Brother, being not by now to protect her, 
 I am her Equal. 
 
 i Referring to <vif.t in the Speech preceding.
 
 io% THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Grac. Of a little Thing, 
 It is fo full of Gall : A Devil of this Size, 
 Should they run for a Wager to be fpiteful, 
 Gets not a Horfe-head of her. SAf 1 ^ 
 
 Marl- On her Birth-day, 
 We were forc'd to be merry ; and now file's mufty, 
 We mull be fad on Pain of her Difpleafure ; 
 We will, we will. This is her private Chamber, 
 Where, like an Hypocrite, not a true Turtle, 
 She feems to mourn her abfent Mate, her Servants 
 Attending her like Mutes : But I'll fpeak to her, 
 And in a high Key too. Play any Thing 
 That's light and loud enough but to torment her, 
 And we will have rare Sport. [_Song. 
 
 [Marcelia above, in black, 
 
 Ifab. She frowns as if 
 Her Looks could fright us* 
 
 Mari. May it pleale your Greatnefs, 
 We heard that your late Phyfick hath not work'd ; 
 And that breeds Melancholy, as your Doctor tells us: 
 To purge which, we, that are born your Highnefs* Vaf- 
 
 fals, 
 Arid are to play the Fool to do you Service, 
 Prefent you with a Fit of Mir.th : What think you 
 Of a new Antick. 
 
 Ifab. 'Twould fhowrare in Ladies. 
 
 Marl. Being intended for fo fweet a Creature : 
 Were fhe but pleas'd to gractf it. 
 
 Ifab. Fye! fhe will , 
 Be it ne'er fo mean : She's r^adeof Courtefy. 
 
 Mian. The Miftrefs of all Hearts ; One Smile, 1 
 pray you, 
 On your poor Servants, or a Fiddler's Fee 
 Coming from thofe fair Hands, tho' but a Ducat, 
 We will inihrine it as a holy Relick. 
 
 Ifab. *T'n Wormwood, and it works. 
 
 Marc. If I lay by 
 My Fears, and Griefs (in which you fhouldbe Sharers) ; 
 If doting Age could let you but remember, 
 You have a Son j or frontlefs Impudenc*
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 203 
 
 You are a Sifter ; and in making Anfwer, 
 To what was moft unfit for you to fpeak, 
 Or me to hear, borrow of my juft Anger 
 
 Ifab.' A fet Speech, on my Life. 
 
 Mari. Penn'd by her Chaplain. 
 
 Marc. Yes, I can fpeak, without Inftrucliion fpeak, 
 And tell your Want of Manners, that y'are rude, 
 And faucily rude too. 
 
 Grac. Now the Game begins. \_Afide. 
 
 Marc. You durft not, elfe, on any Hire or Hope, 
 (Remembring what I am, and whole I am) 
 Put on the defperate Boldnefs, to difturb 
 The leaft of my Retirements. 
 
 Mar'u Note her, now. 
 
 Marc. For both mall underftand, tho' th* one prefume 
 Upon the Privilege due to a Mother, 
 The Duke ftands now on his own Legs, and needs 
 No Nurfe to lead him. 
 
 Ifab. How ? a Nurfe ? 
 
 Marc. A dry one, 
 And ufelefs too : But I am merciful, 
 And Dotage figns your Pardon. 
 
 Ifab. I defy thee ; 
 Thee, and thy Pardons, proud one ? 
 
 Marc. For you, Puppet 
 
 Marl. What of me ? Pine-tree 
 
 Marc. Little you are, I grant, 
 And have as little Worth, but much lefs Wit : 
 You durft not elfe, the Duke being wholly mine, 
 His Pow'r and Honour mine, and the Allegiance, 
 You owe him, as a Subject, due to me 
 
 Mart. To you ? 
 
 Marc. To me : And therefore, as a VafTal, 
 From this Hour learn to fervdrme, or you'll feel 
 I muft make Ufe of my Authority, 
 And as a Princefs punifh it. 
 
 Ifab. A Princefs ? 
 
 Mar'u I had rather be a Slave unto a Moor 
 Than know thee for my Equal.
 
 I 
 
 204 THE DUKE OF MILAN". 
 
 I/ah. Scornful Thing ! 
 Proud of a white Face ! 
 
 Mari. Let her but remember 
 The IfTue in her Leg. 
 
 I/ab. The charge ihe puts 
 The State to for Perfumes. 
 
 Mri. And howfoe'er 
 She feems when ihe's made up, as fhe's herfelf 
 She ftinks above Ground. -Oh'That I could reach you ! 
 The little one you fcorn fo, with her l^ails 
 Would tear your painted Face,andfcratchthofe Eyes out: 
 Do bu t come down. 
 
 Marc. Were there no other Way, 
 But leaping on thy Neck to break mine own, 
 Rather than be outbrav'd thus. 
 
 Grac. Forty Ducats 
 Upon the little Hen : She's of the Kind, 
 And will not leave the Pit. f Afidc4 
 
 Mari. That it were lawful 
 To meet her with a Poniard and a Piftol ! 
 But thefe weak Hands fliall fhew my Spleen; 
 
 Enter Marcelia below.. 
 
 Marc. Where are you ? You Modicum ! you Dwarf ! 
 Mari. Here, Giantefs, here. 
 
 Enter Francifco, Tiberio and Stephano. 
 
 Fran* A Tumult in the Court ? 
 
 Mari. Let her come on* 
 
 Fran. What Wind hath rais'd this Tempefl ? 
 Sever 'em, I command you. What's the Caufe ? 
 Speak, Mariana. 
 
 Nari. I am out of Breath ; 
 But we fhall meet, we fhall. And do you hear, Sir, 
 Or right me on this Monfter (Ihe's three Feet 
 Too high for a Woman) or ne'er look to have 
 A quiet Hour with me.
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 205 
 
 I[ab> If my Son were here, 
 And would endure this, may a Mother's Curfe 
 Purfue, and overtake him i 
 
 Fran, O forbear ! 
 In me he's prefent, both in Power and Will ; 
 And, Madam, I much grieve, that, in his Abfence, 
 There mould arife the leafl Diftafte to move you I 
 It being his principal, nay, only Charge, 
 To have you in his Abfence ferv'd and honour'd, 
 As when himfelf perform'd the willing Office. 
 
 Mart. This is fine, i'Faith. 
 
 -Grac. I would I were well off. [Afifo. 
 
 Fran. And therefore, I befeech you, Madam, frown 
 not 
 (Till moll unwittingly he hath deferv'd it) 
 On your poor Servant ; to your Excellence 
 J ever was and will be fuch, and lay 
 The Duke's Authority, trufted tome, 
 With Willingnefs at your Feet. 
 
 Marl* O bafe ! 
 
 Ifab. We're like 
 To have an equal Judge ! 
 
 Fran. But, mould I find 
 That you are touch'd in any Point of Honour, 
 Or that the leaft Neglect is fall'n upon you, 
 J then fland up a Prince. 
 
 FidU Without Reward, 
 Pray you difmifs us. [Afide. 
 
 Grac. Would I were five Leagues hence ! \Jfidc* 
 
 Fran. I will be partial to none ; not to myfelf : 
 Be you but pleas'd to mew me my Offence ; 
 Or, if you hold me in your good Opinion, 
 Name thofe that have offended you. 
 
 Ifab. lam one ; 
 And I will juftify it. 
 
 Marl. Thou art a bafe Fellow 
 To take her Part. 
 
 Fran. Remember, fhe's the Dutchefs. 
 
 Marc. But us'd with more Contempt, than if I were 
 A Peafaiu's Daughter ; baited, and hooted at,
 
 206 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Like to a common Strumpet ; with loud Noifes 
 Forc'd from my Prayers : and my Private Chamber 
 (Which, with all Willingnefs I would make my Prifon, 
 During the Abfence of my Lord) deny'd me. 
 But if he e'er return ~ 
 
 Fran. Were you an Actor 
 In this lewd Comedy ? 
 
 Mart. I, marry was I ; 
 And will be one again. 
 
 Ifah. I'll join with her, 
 Tho' you repine at it. 
 
 Fran. Think not, then, I fpeak, 
 (For I ftand bound to Honour, and to ferve you ;) 
 But that the Duke, that lives in this great Lady, 
 For the Contempt of him in her, commands you 
 To be clofe Priibners. 
 
 Ifab. Mariana, Prifoners ? 
 
 Fran. Bear them hence ; 
 This is your Charge, my Lord Tiber io 9 
 And, Stephano, this is yours. 
 
 Marc. I am not cruel, 
 But pleas'd they may have Liberty. 
 
 Ifab. Pleas'd, with a Mifchief ! 
 
 Mart. I'll rather live in any loathfome Dungeon, 
 Than in a Paradife, at her Intreaty ; 
 And, for you, Upftart. 
 
 Steph. There is no contending. 
 
 fib. What mall become of thefe ? 
 
 Fran. See them well whipp'd, 
 As you will anfwer it. 
 
 Tib. Now, Signior Graccho, 
 What's become of your Greatnefs ? 
 
 Grac. I preach Patience, 
 And muft endure my Fortune. 
 
 Fid. I was never yet 
 At fuch a huntf-up, nor was fo rewarded. 
 
 [Exeunt all but Francifco and Marcelia. 
 
 Fran. Let them firft know themfelves, and how you 
 are 
 To be ferv'd and honour'd ; which when they confefs,
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. a 7 
 
 You may again receive them to your Favour : 
 And then it will mew nobly. 
 
 Marc. With my Thanks 
 The Duke mall pay you his, if he return 
 To blefs us with his Prefence. 
 
 Fran. There is nothing 
 That can be added to your fair Acceptance ; 
 That is the Prize, indeed ; k AU elfe are Blanks, 
 And of no Value. As in virtuous Actions, 
 The Undertaker finds a full Reward, 
 Altho' conferr'd upon unthankful Men ; 
 So, any Service done to fo much Sweetnefs, 
 (However dangerous) and fubjecl; to 
 An ill Conftruttion) in your Favour finds 
 A whVd, and glorious End. 
 
 Marc. From you, I take this 
 As loyal Duty ; but, in any other, 
 It would appear grofs Flattery. 
 
 Fran, Flattery, Madam ! 
 You are fo rare and excellent in all Things, 
 And rais'd fo high upon a Rock of Goodnefs, 
 That Vice can never reach you ; who but looks on 
 This Temple built by Nature to Perfection, 
 But muff bow to it ? and out of that Zeal 
 JSTot only learn to adore it, but to love it ? 
 
 Marc, Whither will this Fellow ? 
 
 Fran. Pardon therefore, Madam, 
 If an Excefs in me of humble Duty, 
 Teach me to hope (and tho' it be not in 
 The Pow'r of Man to merit fuch a Bleffing) 
 My Piety, for it is more than Love, 
 May find Reward. 
 
 Marc. You have it in my Thanks: 
 And, on my Hand, I am pleafed that you fhall take 
 A full PofTeffion of it. But, take Heed 
 That you fix here, and feed no Hope beyond this; 
 If you do, 'twill prove fatal. 
 
 Fran. Be it Death, 
 And Death with Torments Tyrants ne'er found out ; 
 Yet I mufi: fay I love you.
 
 208 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Marc. As a Subje<ft ; 
 And 'twill become you. 
 
 Fran. Farewel Circumftance ! 
 And fince you are not pleas'd to nnderfland me,- 
 But by a plain, and ufual Form of Speech ; 
 All fuperftitious Reverence laid by, 
 I love you as a Man, and as a Man 
 I would enjoy you. Why do you dart, and fly me ? 
 I am no Monfter, and you but a Woman : 
 A Woman made to yield, and by Example 
 Told it is lawful ; Favours of this Nature 
 Are, in our Age, no Miracles in the greateft ; 
 And, therefore, Lady- 
 
 Marc. Keep off. O you Powers !- 
 
 Libidinous Beafl ! and, add to that, unthankful ! 
 (A Crime, which Creatures wanting Reafon, fly from) 
 Are all the princely Bounties, Favours, Honours, 
 Which, with fome Prejudice to his own Wifdom, 
 Thy Lord and Raifer hath conferr'd upon thee, 
 In three Days Abfence burried ? Hath he made thee 
 (A thing obfcure, almoft without a Name) 
 The Envy of great Fortunes ? Have I grac'd thee, 
 Beyond thy Rank? And entertain'd thee, as 
 A Friend, and not a Servant ? And is this, 
 This impudent Attempt to taint mine Honour, 
 The fair Return of both our ventur'd Favours ? 
 
 Fran, Hear my Excufe. 
 
 Marc . The Devil may plead Mercy, 
 And with, as much Aflurance, as thou yield one. 
 Burns Lull fo hot in thee ? Or is thy Pride 
 Grown up to fuch a Height, that but a Princefs, 
 No Woman can content thee ? And, add to that, 
 His Wife and Princefs, to whom thou artty'd 
 In all the Bonds of Duty ? Read my Life, 
 And find one Adr. of mine fo loofely carried 
 That could invite a moft felf-loving Fool, 
 Set off with all that Fortune could throw on him, 
 To the leafl Hope to find Way to my Favour ; 
 And (what's the worft mine Enemies could wiih me) 
 I'll be thy Strumpet.
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 109 
 
 Fran. 'Tis acknowledg'd, Madam, 
 That your whole Courfe of Life hath been a Pattern 
 For chafte and virtuous Women. In your Beauty 
 (Which I firft faw, and lov'd (as a fair Cryftal, 
 I read your heavenly Mind, clear and untainted ; 
 And while the Duke did prize you to your Value 
 (Could it have been in Man to pay that Duty) 
 I well might envy him, but durft not hope 
 To flop you in your full Career of Goodnefs : 
 But now I find that he's falPn from his Fortune, 
 And (howfoever he would appear doting) 
 Grown cold in his AfTedtion ; I prefume, 
 From his molt barbarous Negledl: of you, 
 To offer my true Service : Nor ftand I bound, 
 To look back on the Courtefies of him 
 That, of all living Men, is moft unthankful. 
 
 Marc. Unheard-of Impudence ! 
 
 Fran. You'll fay I'm modeit, 
 "When I have told the Story. Can he tax me 
 (That have receiv'd fome worldly Trifles from him) 
 For being ungrateful ? When he, that firft tailed, 
 And hath fo long enjoy'd your fweet Embraces 
 (In which, all Bleflings that our frail Condition 
 Is capable of, are wholly comprehended) 
 As cloy'd with Happinefs, contemns the Giver 
 Of his Felicity ? And, as he reach'd not 
 The Mafler-piece of Mifchief which he aims at, 
 Unlefs he pay thofe Favours he ftands bound to, 
 With fell and deadly Hate ? You think he loves you 
 With unexampled Fervour ; nay, dotes on you, 
 As there were fomething in you more than Woman : 
 When, on my Knowledge, he long fince hath wifiYd 
 You were among the Dead ; And I, you fcorn fo, 
 Perhaps am your Preferver, 
 
 Marc. Blefs me, good Angels, 
 Or I am blafted ! Lies fo falfe and wicked, 
 And fafhion'd to fo damnable a Purpofe, 
 Cannot be fpoken by a human Tongue. 
 My Hufband hate me ? Give thyfelf the Lie, 
 
 Vol I. P
 
 tio THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Falfe and accurs'd thy Soul (if thou haft any) 
 
 Can witnefs, never Lady ftood fo bound 
 
 To the unfeign'd Affection of her Lord, 
 
 As I do to my Sforza, If thou wouldft work 
 
 Upon my weak Credulity, tell me, rather, 
 
 That the Earth moves : " the Sun and Stars fland flill ; 
 
 The Ocean keeps nor Floods nor Ebbs ; or that 
 
 There's Peace between the Lion, and the Lamb ; 
 
 Or that the rav'nous Eagle and the Dove 
 
 Keep in one Aviary, and bring up' their Young : 
 
 Or any Thing that is averfe to Nature 
 
 And I will fooner credit it, than that 
 
 My Lord can think of me, but as a Jewel, 
 
 He loves more than himfelf,and all the World. 
 
 Fran, O Innocence abus'd ! Simplicity cozen'd \ . 
 It were a Sin for which we have no Name 
 To keep you longer in this wilful Error* 
 Read his Affection here ; and then obferve 
 How dear he holds you. 'Tis his Character, 
 Which Cunning yet could never counterfeit. 
 
 Marc* 'Tis his Hand, I am refolv'd ' 2 of it : 
 I'll try what the Infcription is. 
 
 Fran, Pray you, do fo. 
 
 Marc, " You know my Pleafure, and the Hour of 
 u Marcelia's Deaths, which fail not to execute, as you 
 " will anfwer the Contrary, not with your Head alone, 
 " but with the Ruin of your whole Family. And this, 
 " written with mine own Hand, and figned with my 
 '5 privy Signet, fhall be your fufficient Warrant. 
 
 # Lodovico Sforza" 
 I do obey it, every Word's a Poniard, 
 And reaches to my Heart. \_She fiuoons, 
 
 i Tlmt the Earth moves , &c. 
 
 What Maffinger thought fo contrary to Nature, is now proved be* 
 yond a poflibiHty of doubt, to be the real Cafe j that the Earth doe 
 jnove, and the Sun ftands ftill. M. M, 
 
 i* Rffohej raeas here eonvinct d, M, M,
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. *n 
 
 Fran. What have I done ? 
 Madam! for Heav'n's Sake, Madam! O my Fate ! 
 I'll bend her Body : This is, yet, fome Pleaiure : 
 I'll kifs her into a new Life. Dear Lady ! 
 She ftirs : For the Duke's Sake ; for Sforzas Sake. 
 
 Marc* Sforza's f Stand off: Tho' dead, I will be his, 
 And ev'n my Allies mall abhor the Touch 
 Of any other. O unkind, and cruel ! 
 Learn, Women, learn to truft in one another ; 
 There is no Faith in Man : Sforza is falie, 
 Falfe to Marcelia. 
 
 Fran. But I am true, 
 And live to make you happy. All the Pomp, 
 State, and Obfervance you had, being his, 
 Compar'd to what you fhail enjoy, when mine, 
 Shall be no more rememb'red. Lofe his Memory, 
 And look with cheerful Beams on your new Creature : 
 And know, what he hath plotted for your good, 
 Fate cannot alter. If the P^mperor 
 Take not his Life, at his Return he dies, 
 And by my Hand : My Wife, that is his Heir, 
 Shall quickly follow. Then we reign alone ; 
 For with this Arm I'll fwim thro 5 Seas of Blood, 
 Or make a Bridge, arch'd with the bones of Men, 
 But I will grafp you in my Arms, my deareft, 
 Deareft, and beft of Women. 
 
 Marc. Thou art a Villain : 
 All Attributes of Arch-villains made into one 
 Cannot exprefs thee. I prefer the Hate 
 Of Sforza, tho' it mark me for the Grave, 
 Before thy bafe Affection. I am yet 
 Pure and unfpotted in my true Love to him ; 
 Nor mall it be corrupted, tho' he's tainted : 
 Nor will I part with Innocence, becaufe 
 He is found guilty. For thyfelf, thou art 
 A Thing, that equal with the Devil himfelf 
 I do deteft and fcorn. 
 
 Fran. Thou, then, art nothing : 
 Thy Life is in my. Power, dudainful Woman ! 
 Think' on't, and tremble. 
 
 P 2
 
 212 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Marc. No, tho' thou wert now 
 To play thy Hangman's Part. Thou well may*ft be 
 My Executioner, and art only fit 
 For fuch Employment ; but ne'er hope to have 
 The leaft Grace from me. I will never fee thee. 
 But as the Shame of Men : So, with my Curfes 
 Of Horror to thy Confcience in this Life, 
 And Pains in Hell hereafter, I fpit at thee ; 
 And, making Hafte to make my Peace with Heaven, 
 Expedt thee as my Hangman. [Exit Marcelia. 
 
 Fran. I am loft 
 In the Difcovery of this fatal Secret. 
 Curs'd Hope that flatter'd me, that Wrongs could make 
 
 her 
 A Stranger to her Goodnefs ! All my Plots 
 Turn back upon myfelf ; but I am in, 
 And muft go on : And, fince I have put off 
 From the Shore of Innocence, Guilt be now my Pilot, 
 Revenge firft wrought me; Murther's his Twin-brother: 
 One deadly Sin, then, help to cure another ! 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 Scene, The Imperial Camp. 
 
 Enter Medina, Hernando, and Alphonfo. 
 
 Medina. 
 
 TH E Spoil, the Spoil ! 'tis that the Soldier fights 
 for; * 
 Our Victory, as yet, affords us nothing 
 But Wounds and empty Honour, We have pafs'd 
 The Hazard of a dreadful Day, and forc'd 
 A PafTage with our Swords thro' all the Dangers 
 That, Page-like, wait on the Succefs^of War ; 
 And now exped Reward.
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. ftjj 
 
 Hern. Hell put it in 
 The Enemy's Mind to be defperate and hold out : 
 Yieldings and Compofitions will undo us ; 
 And what is that Way given, for the moft Part, 
 Comes to the Emperor's Coffers, to defray 
 The Charge of that great Action (as 'tis rumour'd) ; 
 When, ufually, fome Thing in Grace (that ne'er heard 
 The Cannon's roaring Tongue but at a Triumph)' 
 Puts in, and for his Interceffion mares 
 All that we fought for ; the poor Soldier left 
 To ftarve, or fill up Hofpitals. 
 
 Alph. But, when 
 We enter Towns by Force, and carve ourfelves, 
 Pleafure with Pillage, and the richeft Wines 
 Open our ihrunk-up Veins, and pour into 'era 
 New Blood and Fervour. 
 
 Med. I long to be at it ; 
 To fee thefe Choughs, " that every Day may fpead 
 A Soldier's Entertainment for a Year, 
 Yet make a thin u Meal of a Bunch of Rais'ns : 
 Thefe Spunges, that fuck up a Kingdom's Fat 
 (Batt'ning like Scarabs IS in the Dung of Peace) 
 To be fqueez'd out by the rough Hand of War; 
 And all that their whole Lives have heap'd together, 
 By Coz'nage, Perjury, or fordid Thrift, 
 With one Gripe to be ravilh'd. 
 
 Hern. I would be towfing 
 Their fair Madonas, that in little Dogs, 
 Monkeys, and Paraquettos confume thoufands ; 
 Yet, for th' Advancement of a noble Action, 
 Repine to part with a poor Piece of Eight : 
 
 J S Choughs, Magpies. D. 
 
 14 Ttt make a third Meal of a Bunch % &c. 
 
 This Paflage appears to be erroneous : Medina is railing at the for- 
 did Thrift if thofe who, tho* they can afford to fpertd every Day sk 
 Soldier's Pay for a Year, yet live upon a Bunch of Raifins. I there- 
 fore read thin, inftead of third. The making a third Meal of Raifins, 
 if they made two good Meals before, would be no Proof of Penuriouf- 
 nefs. M. M. 
 
 5 Scarabs, tieans Beetles. M. M.
 
 ai 4 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 War's Plagues upon 'em ! I have feen 'em flop 
 
 Their fcornful Nofes firft, then ieem to fwoon 
 
 At Sight of a Buff-jerkin, if it were not 
 
 Perfum'd and hid with Gold ; yet thefe nice Wantons 
 
 (Spnrr'd on by Luft, covcr'd in fome Difguife,) 
 
 To meet fome rough Court-ftallion, and be leap'd, 
 
 Durft enter into any common Brothel, 
 
 Tho' all Varieties-of Stink contend there; 
 
 Yet praife the Entertainment. 
 
 Med. I may live 
 To fee the tatter'dft Rafcals of my Troop 
 Drag 'em out of their Clofets with a Vengeance ; 
 WhenneitherThreat'ning,Flatt'ring,Kneeling,Howling 
 Can ranfom one poor Jewel, or redeem 
 Themfelves from their blunt Wooing. 
 
 Hem. My main Hope is, 
 To begin the Sport at Milan : There's enough, 
 And of all Kinds of Pleafure we can wifh for, 
 To fatisfy the moll covetous. 
 
 Alph. Every Day 
 We look for a Remove. 
 
 Med. For Lodozvick Sforza, 
 The Duke of Milan, I, on mine own Knowledge, 
 Can fay thus much : He is too much a Soldier, 
 Too confident of his own Worth, too rich too, 
 And underftands too well the Emperor hates him, 
 To hope for Compofition. 
 
 Alph. On my Life, 
 We need not fear his coming in. 
 
 Hern. On mine, 
 I do not wifh it : I had rather that 
 To fhew his Valour, he'd put us to the Trouble 
 To fetch him in by th'Ears. 
 Med. The Fmperor. 
 
 Enter Charles the Emperor, Pefcara, &?r. Attendants. 
 
 Charl. You make me wonder nay, it is no Council, 
 You may partake it, Gentlemen ; who'd have thought 
 That he, that fcorn'd our proffer'd Amity,
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 215 
 
 Whtn he was fu'd to, mould ere he be fummon'd 
 (Whether perfuaded to it by bafe Fear, 
 Or flatter'd by falfe Hope, which, 'tis uncertain) 
 Firft kneel for Mercy ? 
 
 . Med. When your Majefty 
 Shall pleafe t' inftrucl: us who it is, we may 
 Admire it with you. 
 
 Chad. Who, but the Duke of Mian, 
 The right Hand of the French : Of all that fland 
 In our Difplealure, whom Neceffity 
 Compels to feek our Favour, I would have fworn 
 Sforza had been thelaft. 
 
 Hem. And ihould be writ fo 
 In the Lift of thofe you pardon. Would his City 
 Had rather held us out a Siege, like Troy, 
 Than, by a feign 'd Submimon, he ihould cheat yot* 
 Of a juft Revenge ; or us, of thofe fair Glories 
 We have fweat Bloo^l to purchafe ! 
 
 Med. With your Honour 
 You cannot hear him. 
 
 Jlph. The Sack alone of Milan, 
 Will pay the Army. 
 
 Charl. I am not fo weak, 
 To be wrought on, as you fear ; nor ignorant 
 That Money is the Sinew of the War : 
 And on what Terms foever he feek Peace, 
 'Tis in our Pow'r to grant it, or deny it. 
 Yet, for our Glory, and to fhew him that 
 We've brought him on his Knees, it is refolv'd 
 To hear him as a Suppliant. Bring him in ; 
 But let him fee th' Effects of our juft Anger, 
 In the Guard that you make for him. [Exit Pefcara. 
 
 Hern. I'm now 
 Familiar with the Ifiiie (all Plagues on it !) 
 He will appear in fome dejeclecl Habit, 
 His Count'nance fuitable : and, for his Order, 
 A Rope about his Neck : Then kneel, and tell 
 Old Stories, what a worthy Thing it is 
 T' have Pow'r and not to ufe it; then add to that 
 A Tale of King Tigranei, and great Pompey, 
 
 V 4
 
 216 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Who faid (forfooth, and wifely) " 'Twas more Honour 
 " To make a King, than kill one : " Which, apply 'd 
 To th' Emperor, and himfelf, a Pardon's granted 
 To him, an Enemy ; and we, his Servants, 
 Condemn'd to Beggary. [AJide. 
 
 Med. Yonder he comes ; 
 But not as you expected. \_Afide. 
 
 Enter Sforza. 
 
 Alph. He looks as if 
 He would out-face his Dangers. \_4fi^ e * 
 
 Hern. I am cozen 'd : 
 A Suitor in the Devil's Name ? [Afide. 
 
 Med. Hear him fpeak. \Ajide. 
 
 Sfor. I come not, Emperor, t' invade thy Mercy, 
 By fawning on thy Fortune ; nor bring with me 
 Excufes, or Denials. I profefs 
 (And with a good Man's Confidence, ev'n this Inftant 
 That I am in thy Pow'r) I was thine Enemy : 
 Thy deadly and vow'd Enemy : one that wilh'd 
 Confufion to thy Perfon and Eftates : 
 And with my utmoil Pow'rs, and deepeft Counfels, 
 Had they been truly follow'd, further'd it : 
 Nor will I now, altho' my Neck were under 
 The Hangman's Axe, with one poor Syllable 
 Confefs, but that I honour'd the French King 
 More than thyfelf, and all Men. 
 
 Med. By Saint Jaques, 
 This is no Flattery. [Afide. 
 
 Hern. There is Fire and Spirit in't ; 
 But not long-liv'd, I hope. \_Afide. 
 
 Sfor. Now give me Leave 
 (My Hate againft thyfelf, and Love to him 
 Freely acknowledg'd) to give up the Reafons 
 That made me fo affedted. In my Wants 
 I ever found him faithful ; had Supplies 
 Of Men and Monies from him ; and my Hopes 
 Quite ftink, were, by his Grace, buoy'd up again,; 
 He was, indeed, to me, as my good Angel, 
 To guard me from all Dangers. I d:ire fpeak
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 217 
 
 (Nay nruft and will) his Praife now, in as high 
 And loud a Key, as when he was thy Equal. 
 The Benefits he fow'd in me, met not 
 Unthankful Ground, but yielded him his own 
 With fair Increafe, and I ftill glory in it. 
 And, tho' my Fortunes (poor, compar'd to his, 
 And Milan, weigh'd with France, appear as nothing) 
 Are in thy Fury burnt ; let it be mention'd, 
 They ferv'd but as fmall Tapers to attend 
 The folemn Flame at his great Funeral ; 
 And with them I will gladly wafte myfelf, 
 Rather than undergo the Imputation 
 Of being bafe or unthankful. 
 
 Alph. Nobly fpoken ! [JfiJc. 
 
 Hern. I do begin, I know not why, to hate him 
 Lefs than I did. \AJUt* 
 
 Sfor. If that, then, to be grateful 
 For Courtefies receiv'd ; or not to leave 
 A Friend in his Neceffities, be a Crime 
 Amongft you Spaniards, (which other Nations 
 That, like you, aim'd at Empire, lov'd, and cherifh'd 
 Where-e'er they found it) Sforza brings his Head 
 To pay the Forfeit. Nor come I as a Slave, 
 Pinion'd and fetter'd, in a fqualid Weed, 
 Falling before thy Feet, kneeling and howling, 
 For a foreftall'd Remiflion. That were poor, 
 And would but fhame thy Victory ; for Conqueft 
 Over bafe Foes, is a Captivity, 
 And not a Triumph. I ne'er fear'd to die 
 More than I wiih'd to live. When I had reach'd 
 My Ends in being a Duke, I wore thefe Robes, 
 This Crown upon my Head, and to my Side 
 This Sword was girt : And witnefs Truth, that now 
 'Tis in another's Povv'r when I mall part 
 With them and Life together, I'm the fame : 
 My Veins then did not lwell with Pride ; nor now 
 Shrink they for Fear. Know, Sir, that Sforza (land* 
 Prepar'd for either Fortune. 
 
 Hern. As I live, * 
 
 I do begin ftrangely to love this Fellow ;
 
 ax8 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 And could part with three Quarters of my Share in 
 The promis'd Spoil, to fave him. Sj$&i 
 
 Sfor. But, if Example 
 Of my Fidelity to the French (whofe Honours, 
 Titles, and Glories, are now mix'd with yours, 
 As Brooks, devour'd by Rivers, lofe their Names) 
 Has Pow'r t' invite you to make him a Friend 
 That hath given evident Proof, he knows to love, 
 And to be thankful ; this my Crown, now yours, 
 You may reftore me, and in me inftrudt 
 Thefe brave Commanders (ihould your Fortune change; 
 Which now I wifh not) what they may expedt 
 From noble Enemies for being faithful. 
 The Charges of the War I will defray; 
 And, what you may (not without Hazard) force, 
 Bring freely to you : I'll prevent the Cries 
 Of murther'd Infants, and of ravifh'd Maids, 
 Which, in a City fack'd, call on Heav'n's Juftice, 
 And flop the Courfe of glorious Victories. 
 And, when I know the Captains and the Soldiers, 
 That have in the late Battle done belt Service, 
 And are to be rewarded, I myfelf, 
 According to their Quality and Merits, 
 Will fee them largely recompens'd. I've faid, 
 And now exped: my Sentence. 
 
 Alph* By this Light, 
 'Tis a brave Gentleman ! L-dfide* 
 
 Med. How like a Block 
 The Emperor fits ! \_Afide. 
 
 Hern. He hath deliver'd Reafon, rt 
 Efpecially in his Purpofe to enrich 
 Such as fought bravely : (I myfelf am one, 
 I care not who knows it) I wonder he 
 
 16 He bath deliver d Reafons, 
 
 Hernando evidently means to fay that Sforxa has fpoken rationally, 
 efpecially in expreffing his Purpofe of enriching thofe who fought 
 bravely : The word Riajons in the Plt*ral will not Exprefs rhac 
 Senfe. M, M.
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN* 219 
 
 Can be fo ftupid Now he begins to ftir : 
 
 Mercy, an't be thy Will ! \_Afidt* 
 
 Chad. Thou haft fo far 
 Outgone my Expectation, noble Sforza, 
 (For fuch I hold thee), and true Conftancv, 
 Rais'd on a brave Foundation, bears fuch Palm 
 And Privilege with it, that, where we behold it, 
 Tho* in an Enemy, it does command us 
 To love and honour it. By my future Hopes, 
 I'm glad, for thy Sake, that, in feeking Favour, 
 Thou didft not borrow of Vice her indirect, 
 Crooked, and abjecl: Means ; and for mine own, 
 That (fincemy Purpofes muft nowbechang'd 
 Touching thy Life and Fortunes) the World cannot 
 Tax me of Levity in my fettled Counfels ; 
 I being neither wrought by tempting Bribes, 
 Nor fervile Flattery ; but forc'd unto it 
 By a fair War of Virtue. 
 
 Hern. This founds well. \_Afik- 
 
 Chart. All former Paflages of Hate be buried : 
 For thus with open Arms I meet thy Love, 
 And as a Friend embrace it ; and fo far 
 I am from robbing thee of the leaft Honour, 
 That with my Hands, to make it fit the fafter, 
 I fet thy Crown once more upon thy Head ; 
 And do not only ftilethee, Duke of Milan, 
 But vow to keep thee fo : Yet, not to take 
 From others to give only to thyfelf, 
 I will not hinder your Magnificence 
 To my Commanders, neither will I urge it ; 
 But in that, as in all Things elfe, I leave you 
 To be your own Difpofer, \_FlouriJJ\ Exit Charles. 
 
 Sfor. May I live 
 To leal my Loyalty, tho' with Lofs of Life 
 In fome brave Service worthy Cxfars Favour, 
 And I fhall die molt happy. Gentlemen, 
 Receive me to your Loves ; and, ifhcncefoffeh 
 There can arife a Difference between us, 
 It fhall be in a noble Emulatioa
 
 120 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Who hath the faireft Sword, or dare go farthefty 
 To fight for Charles the Emperor ? 
 
 Hern, We embrace you, 
 As one well read in all the Points of Honour ; 
 And there we are your Scholars. 
 
 Sfor, True ; but fuch 
 As far out-ftrip the Mailer. We'll contend 
 In Love hereafter, in the mean Time, pray youy 
 Let me difcharge my Debt, and, as in earned 
 Of what's to come, divide this Cabinet : 
 In the fmall Body of it there are Jewels 
 Will yield a hundred thoufand Piflolets ; 
 Which honour me to receive. 
 
 Med* You bind us to you* 
 
 Sfar, And, when great Charles commands me to his 
 Prefence, 
 If you will pleafe t' excufe my abrupt Departure, 
 (Defigns that moll concern me, next this Mercy, 
 Calling me home) I ihall hereafter meet you, 
 And gratify the Favour. 
 
 Hern, In this, and all Things, 
 We are your Servants. 
 
 Sfor, A Name I ever owe you. 
 
 [Exeunt Med. Her. and Alph. 
 
 Pefc. So, Sir ; this Tempeft is well overblown, 
 And all Things fall out to our Wiihes. But, 
 In my Opinion, this quick Return, 
 Before you've made a Party in the Court 
 Among the great ones (for thefe needy Captains 
 Have little Power in Peace J may beget Danger ; 
 At leaft Sufpicion. 
 
 Sfor, Where true Honour lives, 
 Doubt hath no Being : I delire no Pawn 
 Beyond an Emperor's Word for my Affurance : 
 Befides, Pefeara, to thyfelf of all Men 
 I will confefs my Weaknefs tho' my State 
 And Crown's reftor'd me ; tho' I am in Grace 
 And that a little Stay might be a Step 
 To greater Honours, I mufl hence. Alas ! 
 I live not here ; my Wife, Pefeara,
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 221 
 
 Being abfent, I am dead. Prithee, excufe, 
 And do not chide, for Friendihip Sake, my Fondnefs : 
 But ride along with me; I'll give you Reafons, 
 And flrong ones, to plead for me. 
 
 Pefc. Ule your own Pleafurej 
 I'll bear you Company. 
 
 Sfor. Farewel, Grief ! I am ftor'd with 
 Two Bleflings molt deiir'd in human Life ; 
 A conftant Friend, and unfufpe&ed Wife 
 
 Scene changes to Pifa. 
 Enter Graccho, and an Officer. 
 
 Offic. What I did, I had Warrant for. You've tailed 
 My Office gently, and for thofe foft Strokes, 
 Flea-bitings to the Jerks I could have lent you, 
 There does belong a Feeling. 
 
 Grac. Mull I pay 
 For being tormented and diftionour ? d ? 
 
 Offic. Fye ! no, 
 Your Honour's not impair'd in't. What's the letting out 
 Of a little corrupted Blood, and the next Way top ? 
 There is no Chirurgeon like me to take off 
 A Courtier's Itch that's rampant at great Ladies 
 Or turns Knave for Preferment, or grows proud 
 Of their rich Cloaks, and Suits, tho' got by Brokage, 
 And fo forgets his Betters. 
 
 Grac. Very good, Sir ; 
 But am I the firft Man of Quality 
 That e'er came under your Fingers ? 
 
 Offic. Not by a thoufand : 
 And they have faid I have a lucky Hand too : 
 Both Men and Women of all Sorts have bow'd 
 Under this Sceptre. I have had a Fellow 
 That could indite, forfooth, and make fine Metres 
 To tinkle in the Ears of ignorant Madams, 
 That for defaming of great Men, was fent me 
 Threadbare and loufy, and in three Days after 
 (Difcharged by another that fet him on) I have feen him
 
 ** THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Cap-a-pee Gallant, and his Stripes wafh'd of 
 With Oil of Angels. 
 
 Qrac. 'Twas a fovereign Cure. 
 
 Offic. There was a Secretary too, that would not b 
 Conformable to th' Orders of the Church, 
 Nor yield to any Argument of Reafon, 
 But ftill rail at Authority, brought to me, 
 When I bad worm'd his Tongue, and trufs'd hi? 
 
 Haunches, 
 Grew a fine Pulpit man, and was benefic'd. 
 Had he not Caufe to thank me ? 
 
 Grac. There was Phylick 
 Was to the Purpofe* 
 
 Offic f Now, for Women, 
 For your more Confolation, I could tell you 
 Twenty fine Stories, but I'll end in one, 
 And 'tis the laft that's memorable. 
 
 Grac. Prithee, do; 
 For I grow weary of thee. 
 
 Offic. There was lately 
 A fine She-waiter in the Court, that doted 
 Extremely of a Gentleman, that had 
 His main Dependance on a Signior's Favour 
 (I will not name,) but could not compafs him 
 On any Terms. This Wanton, at dead Midnight^ 
 Was found at the Exercife behind the Arras 
 With the 'forfaid Signior : He got clear off; 
 But me was feiz'd on, and to fave his Honour, 
 Endur'd the Lafh; and, tho' I made her often 
 Curvet and Caper, fhe would never tell 
 Who play'd at Pum-pin with her. 
 
 Grac. But what follow'd ? Prithee be brief. 
 
 Offic. Why this, Sir. She delivered, 
 Had Store of Crowns, affign'd her by her Patron, 
 Who forc'd the Gentleman, to fave her Credit, 
 To marry her, and fay he was the Party 
 Found in Lob's Pound. So fhe, that, before, gladly 
 Would have been his Whore, reignso'er him as his Wife; 
 Nor dares he grumble at it. Speak but Truth, then, 
 Is not my Office lucky ?
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 123 
 
 Grac. Go, there's for thee ; [Gives him Money* 
 
 But what will be my Fortune ? 
 
 Offic. If you thrive not 
 After that foft Correction, come again. 
 
 Grac. I thank you, Knave. 
 
 Offic. And then, Knave, I will fit you, [Exit Officer. 
 
 Grac. Whipt like a Rogue ? No lighter Punifhment 
 ferye 
 To balance with a little Mirth ? 'Tis well ; 
 My Credit funk for ever, I am now 
 Fit Company only for Pages and for Footboys, 
 That have perufed the Porter's Lodge. 
 
 Enter two Gentlemen. 
 
 1 Gent, See, Julio, 
 
 Yonder the proud Slave is ; how he looks now 
 After his Caftigation ! 
 
 2 Gent. As he came I7 
 
 From a clofe Fight at Sea under the Hatches, 
 With a She-dunkerke, that was ihot before 
 Between Wind and Weather, 
 And he hath fprung a Leak too, or I'm cozen'd. 
 
 1 Gent. Let's be merry with him. 
 
 Grac. How they flare at me ! Am I turn'd to an 
 Owl ? 
 The Wonder, Gentlemen ? 
 
 2 Gent. I read, this Morning, 
 Strange Stories of the pamve Fortitude 
 Of Men in former Ages, which I thought 
 Impoffible, and not to be believed : 
 
 But, now I look on you, my Wonder ceafes. 
 
 Grac. The Reafon, Sir ? 
 
 2 Gent. Why, Sir, you have been whipp'd ; 
 Whipp ? d, Signior Graccho : And the Whip, I take it, 
 Is, to a Gentleman, the greateft Trial 
 That may be of his Patience. 
 
 Grac. Sir, I'll call you 
 To a ftrict Account for this. 
 
 17 That is, as if he came.
 
 2 4 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 2 Gent, I'll not deal with you, 
 
 Unlefs I have a Beadle for my Second ; 
 
 And then I'll anfwer you. 
 
 i Gent, Farewel, poor Graccho ! [Exit Gentlemen, 
 Grac, Better and better ftill, -If ever Wrongs 
 
 Could teach a Wretch to find the Way to Vengeance, 
 
 Enter Francifco and Servant. 
 
 Hell now infpire me, How, the Lord Protector ! 
 My Judge ! I thank him. Whither thus in private ? 
 I will not fee him. 
 
 Fran, If I am fought for, 
 Say, I am indifpofed, and will not hear 
 Pr Suits, or Suitors. 
 
 Serv, But, Sir, if the Princefs 
 Enquire, what mail I anfwer ? 
 
 Fran, Say, I'm rode 
 Abroad to take the Air ; but by no Means 
 JLet her know I'm in Court. 
 
 Serv, So I fhall tell her. [Exit Servant, 
 
 ran. Witjiin there, Ladies ! 
 
 Enter a Gentlewoman* 
 
 Gentlew, My good Lord, your Pleafure ? 
 
 Fran, Prithee, let me beg thy Favour for Accefs 
 To th' Dutchefs. , 
 
 Gentlew, In good footh, my Lord, I dare not ; 
 She's very private. 
 
 Fran, Come, there's Gold to buy thee 
 A new Gown, and a rich one. 
 
 Gentlew, This will tempt me. \_A/tde,~] I once fwore 
 If e'er I loft my Maidenhead, it ihould be 
 With a great Lord as you are ; and, I know not how, 
 I feel a yielding Inclination in me, 
 If you have Appetite. 
 
 Fran, Pox on thy Maidenhead ! 
 Where is thy Lady ?
 
 THE PUKE OF MILAN. 425 
 
 Gentlew. If you venture on her, 
 She's walking in the Gallery. Perhaps, 
 You will find her lefs tradable. 
 
 Fran. Bring me to her. 
 
 Gentlew. I tear you'll have cold Entertainment, whei^ 
 You are at your Journey's End ; and 'twere Difcretion 
 To take a Snatch by the Way. 
 
 Fran. Prithee, leave Fooling, 
 My Page waits in the Lobby : Give him Sweatmcats ; 
 He is train'd up for his Mailer's Eafe, 
 And he will cool thee. [Ex. Francifco and Gentlew % 
 
 Grac. A brave Difcovery, beyond my Hope ! 
 A Plot e'en offer'd to my Hand to work on, 
 If I am dull now, may I live and die 
 The Scorn of Worms and Slaves. Let me confider; 
 My Lady and her Mother firfl committed 
 In the Favour of the Dutchefs, and I whipp'd - 
 That with an Iron Pen is writ in Brafs 
 On my tough Heart, now grown a harder Metal ; 
 And all his brib'd Approaches to the Dutchefs 
 To be conceal'd, good, good : This to my Lady, 
 Deliver'd as I'll order it, runs her mad. 
 But this may prove but Courtlhip x% ; let it be, 
 I care not, fo it feed her Jealoufy. [J&xlU 
 
 Scene changes to an Apartment in the Palace* 
 
 Enter Marcelia and Francifco. 
 
 Marc. Believe thy Tears or Oaths ? Can it be hop'd, 
 After a Practice fo abhorr'd and horrid, 
 Repentance e'er can find thee ? 
 
 Fran. Dear Lady, 
 Great in your Fortune, greater in your Goodnefs, 
 Make a fuperlative of Excellence, 
 In being greateft in your faving Mercy. 
 
 8 That is, merely his paying his Court to her as Dutchefs. M. M. 
 Vol. I. Q^
 
 * 2 6 THE DUKE OF MILAN, 
 
 I do confefs, humbly confefs my Faulty 
 To be beyond all Pity ; my Attempt, 
 So barbaroufly rude, that it would turn 
 A Saint-like Patience into Savage Fury : 
 *But you that are all Innocence and Virtue, 
 No Spleen or Anger in you of a Woman, 
 But when a holy Zeal to Piety fires you, 
 May, if you pleafe, impute the Fault to Love, 
 Or call it beaftly Luft, for 'tis no better ; 
 A Sin, a monftrous Sin, yet with it many 
 That did prove good Men after, have been tempted ; 
 And, tho' I am crooked now, 'tis in your Power 
 To make me ftxait again. 
 
 Marc, Is't poffible 
 This can be Cunning ? \Afidc* 
 
 Fran. But, if no Submiffion, 
 Nor Prayers can appeafe you, that you may know 
 'Tis not the Fear of Death that makes me fue thus, 
 But a loath'd Deteftation of my Madnefs, 
 Which makes me wifh to live to have your Pardon, 
 I will not wait the Sentence of the Duke, 
 (Since his Return is doubtful) but I myielf 
 Will do a fearful Juftice on myfelf, 
 No Witnefs by but you, there being no more 
 When I offended. Yet, before I do it, 
 For I perceive in you no Signs of Mercy, 
 I will difclofe a Secret, which, dying with me, 
 May prove your Ruin. 
 
 Marc. Speak it : it will take from 
 The Burthen of thy Confcience. 
 
 Fran. Thus, then, Madam, 
 The Warrant by my Lord fign'd for your Death, 
 Was but conditional ; but you mutt fwear 
 By your unfpotted Truth not to reveal it, 
 Or I end here abruptly. 
 
 Marc. By my Hopes 
 Of Joys hereafter. On. 
 
 Fran. Nor was it Hate 
 That fore'd him to it, but Exccfs of Love. 
 " And, if I ne'er return, (fo faid great Sforza)
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 ,c No living Man deferving to enjoy 
 
 u My befl Marcelia, With the firft News 
 
 *' That I am dead, for ' 9 no Man after me 
 
 '** Might e'er enjoy her fail not to kill her ; 
 
 " But till certain Proof affure thee I am loft, 
 " (Tfrefe were his Words) 
 u Obferve and honour her, as if the Seal 
 " Of Woman's Goodnefs only dwelt in her." 
 This Truft I have abus'd and bafely wrong'd, 
 And, if the excelling Pity of your Mind 
 Cannot forgive it, as I dare not hope it, 
 Rather than look on my offended Lord, 
 I ftand refolv'd to punim it. 
 
 Marc* Hold ! 'tis forgiven, 
 And by me freely pardon'd. In thy fair Life 
 Hereafter ftudy to defer ve this Bounty 
 Which thy true Penitence (fuch I believe it) 
 Againft my Refolution hath fore'd from me. 
 But that my Lord, my Sforza, mould efteem 
 My Life fit only as a Page, to wait on 
 The various Courfe of his uncertain Fortunes ; 
 Or cherifh in himfelf that fenfual Hope 
 In Death to know me as a Wife, afflicts me : 
 Nor does his nvy lefs deferve mine Anger, 
 Which, tho' fuch is my Love, I would not nourim, 
 Will flack the Ardour that I had to fee him 
 Return in Safety. 
 
 Fran, But if your Entertainment 
 Should give the leaft Ground to his Jealoufy, 
 To raife up an Opinion I am falfe, 
 You then deftroy your Mercy. Therefore, Madam, 
 (Tho' I mall ever look on you as on 
 My Life's Preferver, and the Miracle 
 Of human Pity) would you but vouchfafe 
 In Company to do me thofe fair Graces 
 And Favours which your Innocence and Honour 
 May fafely warrant, it would to the Duke 
 
 15 For means in this Place, in order that. M. ilf.
 
 m THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 (I being to your befl felf alone known guilty) 
 Make me appear mofl innocent. 
 
 Marc. Have your Wifhes, 
 And fomething I may do to try his Temper ; 
 At leaft, to make him know a conftant Wife 
 Is not fo flav'd to her Hufband's doting Humours, 
 But that fhe may deferve to live a Widow, 
 Her Fate appointing it, / 
 
 Fran. It is enough ; 
 Nay all I could defire, and will make Way 
 To my Revenge, which fhall difperfe itlelf 
 On him, on her, and all. \_Afide.~\ \Shout, andfourifh. 
 
 Marc. What Shout is that ? 
 
 Enter Tiberio and Stephano. 
 
 Tib, All Happinefs to the Dutchefs, that may flow 
 From the Duke's new and wifh'd Return ! 
 Marc. He's welcome. 
 
 Steph. How coldly me receives it ! [AJide. 
 
 fit, Obferve their Encounter. [Flourijh, 
 
 Enter Sforza, Pefcara, Ifabella, Mariana, Graccho, and 
 
 the rejl. 
 
 Mart. What you have told me, Graccho, is believ'd, 
 And I'll find Time to ftir in't. 
 
 Grac. As you fee Caufe ; 
 I will not do ill Offices. 
 
 Sfor. I've flood 
 Silent thus long, Marcelia, expecting 
 When, with more than a greedy Hafle, thou wouldft 
 Have flown into my Arms, and on my Lips 
 Have printed a deep Welcome. My Defire 
 To glafs myfelf in thefe fair Eyes, have borne me 
 With more than human Speed : Nor durft I fray 
 In any Temple, or to any Saint 
 To pay my Vows and Thanks for my Return, 
 Till I had feen thee.
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 229 
 
 Marc. Sir, I am moft happy 
 To loqk upon you fafe, and would exprefs 
 My Love and Duty in a modeft Fafhion, 
 Such as might fuit with the Behaviour 
 Of one that knows herfelf a Wife, and how 
 To temper her Delires ; not like a Wanton 
 Fir'd with hot Appetite ; nor can it wrong me 
 To love difcreetly. 
 
 Sfor. How ? Why, can there be 
 A Mean in your Affections to Sforza f 
 Or any Act, tho' ne'er fo loofe, that may 
 Invite or heighten Appetite, appear 
 Immodeft or uncomely. Do not move me ; 
 My Paflions to you are in Extremes, 
 And know no Bounds come, kifs me. 
 
 Marc. I obey you. 
 
 Sfor. By all the Joys of Love, ihe does falute me 
 As if I were her Grandfather. What Witch, 
 With curfed Spells, hath quench'd the amorous Heat 
 That liv'd upon thefe Lips ? Tell me, Marcelia, 
 And truly tell me, is't a Fault of mine 
 That hath begot this Coldnefs ? or Neglect 
 Of others, in my Abfence ? 
 
 Marc. Neither, Sir : 
 X ftand indebted to your Subftitute, 
 Noble and good Francifco, for his Care 
 And fair Obfervance of me : There was nothing 
 With which you, being prefent, could fupply me, 
 That I dare fay I wanted 
 
 Sfor. How? 
 
 Marc. The Pleafures 
 That facred Hymen warrants us excepted ; 
 On whjch, in troth, you are too great a Doter, 
 And there is more of Beaft in it than Man. 
 Let us love temperately ; Things violent laft not*, 
 And too much Dotage rather argues Folly 
 Than true Affection. 
 
 Grac. Obferve but this, 
 And how fhe prais'd my Lord's Care and Obfervance ; 
 
 0.3
 
 2*0 THE DUK OF MILAN. 
 
 And then judge, Madam, if my Intelligence 
 Have any Ground of Truth. 
 
 Man. No more ; I mark it. 
 
 Steph. How the Duke ftands ! 
 
 Tib. As he were rooted there, 
 And had no Motion. {.4fi4 e ~ 
 
 Pefc. My Lord, from whence 
 Grows this Amazement 3 
 
 Sfor. It is more, dear my Friend ; 
 For I am doubtful whether I've a Being, 
 But certain that my Life's a Burthen to me. 
 Take me back, good Pefcara ; mow me to Cafar 
 In all his Rage and Fury ; I difclaim 
 His Mercy ; to live now, which is his Gift, 
 Is worfe than Death, and with all ftudied Torments* 
 Marcelia is unkind, nay, worfe, grown cold 
 In her Affection ; my Excefs of Fervour, 
 Which yet was never equal'd, grown diftafteful. 
 But have thy Wishes, Woman ; thou ihalt know 
 That I can be myfelf, and thus make off 
 Th Fetters of fond Dotage. From my Sight, 
 Without Reply ; for I am apt to do 
 Something I may repent. Oh ! who would place 
 His Happinefs in mod accurfed Woman, 
 In whom Obfequioufnefs engenders Pride ; to 
 And Harfhnefs deadly. From this Hour 
 I'll labour to forget there are fuch Creatures ; 
 True Friends be now my Miflrefles. Clear your BrowSj 
 And, tho' my Heart-firings crack for't, I will be, 
 To all, a free Example of Delight : 
 We will have Sports of all Kinds, and propound 
 Rewards to fuch as can produce us new, 
 tJnfatisfy'd, tho' we forfeit in their Store, 
 .And never think of curs'd Marcelia more. [Exeunt* 
 
 (|dr 20 In whom Ohfequloufnefs engenders Pride, 
 
 This Expreffion Milton fcems to have had i* View in his Peradift 
 LoJt,B. IV. VerfeSo 9 .
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 231 
 
 ACT IV. S C E N E I. 
 
 An Apartment in the Palace. 
 
 Enter Francifco and Graccho. 
 
 Franc ifco. 
 
 A N D is it poffible thou fhouldft forget 
 jr\ A Wrong of fuch a Nature, and then ftudy 
 MySafety and Content ? 
 
 Grac. Sir, but allow me 
 Only to have read the Elements of Courtfhip M 
 (Not the abftrufe and hidden Arts to thrive there) 
 And you may pleafe to grant me fo much Knowledge, 
 That Injuries from one in Grace, like you, 
 Are noble Favours. Is it not grown common 
 In every Seel, for thofe that want, to fuffer 
 From fuch as have to give ? Your Captain cad: 
 If poor, tho' not thought daring, but approv'd Co, 
 To raife a Coward, into Name that's rich, 
 Suffers Difgraces publickly but receives 
 Rewards for them in private. 
 
 Fran. Well obferv'd ; 
 Put on ; " we'll be familiar, and difcourfe 
 A little of this Argument. That Day, 
 In which it was firft rumour'd, then confirm'd, 
 Great Sforza thought me worthy of his Favour, 
 I found myfelf to be another Thing, 
 Not what I was before. I pafled then 
 For a pretty Fellow, and of pretty Parts too, 
 
 *i Means here Court-policy. JM. M. 
 2 Means he covered* M. M. 
 
 Q_4
 
 *3* THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 And was perhaps receiv'd fo : but, once rais'd, 
 
 The liberal Courtier made me Mafter of 
 
 Thofe Virtues, which I ne'er knew in myfelf, 
 
 If I pretended to a Jeft, 'twas made one 
 
 By their Interpretation : If I offer'd 
 
 To reafon of Philofophy, tho' abfurdly, 
 
 They had Helps to fave me, and without a Blufh 
 
 Would fwear, that I, by Nature, had more Know* 
 
 ledge, 
 Than others could acquire by any Labour, 
 Nay, all I did, indeed, which in another 
 Was not remarkable, in me fhew'd rarely, 
 
 Grac. But then they tailed of your Bounty. 
 
 Fran. True : 
 They gave me thofe good Parts I was not born to ; 
 And, by my Interceffion they got that 
 Which, had I crofs'd them, they durfl not have hop'd 
 for. 
 
 Grac. All this is Oracle. And fhall I, then, 
 For a fooliih Whipping, leave to honour him, 
 That holds the Wheel of Fortune ? No ; that favours 
 Too much of th' ancient Freedom. Since great Men 
 Receive Difgraces and give Thanks, poor Knaves 
 Mufl have nor Spleen nor Anger. Tho' I love 
 My Limbs as well as any Man, if you had now 
 A Humour to kick me lame into an Office, 
 Where I might fit in State and undo others, 
 Stood I not bound to kifs the Food that did it ? 
 Tho' it feem ftrange, there have been fuch Things feen. 
 V th' Memory of Man. 
 
 Fran. But to the Purpofe ; 
 And then, that Service done, make thine own Fori 
 
 tunes. 
 My Wife, thou fay'ft, is jealous I am too 
 Familiar with the Dutchefs. 
 
 Grac. And incens'd 
 For her Commitment in her Brother's Abfencc ; 
 And by her Mother's Anger is fpurr'd on 
 To make Difcov'ry of it. This her Purpofe 
 Was trufted to my Charge, which I declin'd
 
 THE DUKE OP MILAN. 233 
 
 As much as in me lay ; but, finding her 
 Determinately bent to undertake it, 
 The-' breaking my Faith to her may deftroy 
 My Credit with your Lordfhip, I yet thought, 
 Tho' at my Peril, I flood bound to reveal it. 
 
 Fran. I thank thy Care, and will deferve this Secret, 
 n making thee acquainted with a greater, 
 And of more Moment. Come into my Bofom, 
 And take it from me. Canfl thou think, dull Graccho, 
 My Pow'r and Honours were conferr'd upon me, 
 And, add to them, this Form, to have my Pleafures 
 Confin'd and limited ? I delight in Change, 
 And fweet Variety ; that's my Heav'n on Earth, 
 For which I love Life only. I confefs, 
 My Wife pleas'd me a Day ; the Dutchefs, two, 
 (And yet I muft not fay I have enjoy 'd her) 
 But now I care for neither. Therefore, Gracfhoy 
 far I am from flopping Mariana 
 In making her Complaint, that I defire thee 
 To urge her to it. 
 
 Grac. That may prove your Ruin, 
 The Duke already being, as 'tis reported, 
 Doubtful fhe hath play'd falfe. 
 
 Fran. There thou art cozen'd ; - 
 His Dotage, like an Ague, keeps his Courfe 1 
 And now 'tis ftrongly on him. But I lofe Time,. 
 And therefore know, whether thou wilt or no, 
 Thou art to be my Inftrument, and, in Spite 
 Of the old Saw, that fays, " it is not fafe 
 f* On any Terms to truft a Man that's wrong'-d," 
 I dare thee to be falfe. 
 
 Grac. This is a Language, 
 My Lord, I underftand not. 
 
 Jfran. You thought, Sirrah, 
 To put a Trick on me for the Relation 
 Of what I knew before, and, having won 
 Some weighty Secret from me, in Revenge 
 To play the Traitor. -Know, thou wretched Thing, 
 By my Command thou wert whipp'd, and ev'ry Day 
 I'll have thee freihly tortur'd, if thou mi
 
 234 THE DUKE OF MILAN, 
 
 In the leaft Charge that I impofe upon thee. 
 Tho' what I fpeak, for the moft Part, is true ; 
 Nay, grant thou hadft a thoufand Witnefles 
 To be depos'd they heard it, 'tis in me 
 With one Word (fuch is Sforza's Confidence 
 Of my Fidelity, not to be fhaken) 
 To make all void, and ruin my Accufers. 
 Therefore look to't, bring my Wife hotly on 
 T' accufe me to the Duke (I have an End in't) 
 Or think what 'tis makes Man moft miferable, 
 And that mall fall upon thee. Thou wert a Fool 
 To hope, by being acquainted with my Courfes, 
 To curb and awe me ; or that I mould live 
 Thy Slave, as thou didft faucily divine. 
 For prying in my Counfels, ftill live mine. 
 
 [Exit Francifco. 
 Grac, I'm caught on both Sides. This 'tis for a puny 
 In Policy's Protean School, to try Conclufions 
 With one that hath commenc'd and gone out Doctor. 
 If I difcover what but now he bragg'd of, 
 I fhall not be believ'd. If I fall off 
 From him, his Threats and Actions go together. 
 And there's no Hope of Safety, till 1 get 
 A Plummet that may found his deepeft Counfels. 
 I muft obey and ferve him. Want of Skill 
 Now makes me play the Rogue againft my Will. 
 
 [*//, 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Scene changes to another Apartment. 
 
 Enter Marcelia, Tiberio, Stephano, and a Gentlewoman. 
 
 Marc. Command me from his Sight ? and with fuch 
 Scorn 
 As he would rate his Slave ? 
 Ttb. 'Twas in his Fury. 
 Stepb* And he repents it, Madam,
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 235 
 
 Marc. Was I born 
 T' obferve his Humours ? or, becaufe he dotes, 
 Muft. I run mad ? 
 
 Tib. If that your Excellence 
 Would pleafe but to receive a feeling Knowledge 
 Of what he fuffers, and how deep the leaft 
 Unkindnefs wounds from you, you would excufe 
 His hafty Language. 
 
 Steph. He hath paid the Forfeit 
 Of his Offence, I'm fure, with fuch a Sorrow, 
 As, if it had been greater, would deferve 
 A full Remiffion. 
 
 Marc. Why, perhaps, he hath it ; 
 And I (land more afflidted for his Abfence 
 Than he can be for mine ? So, pray you, tell him. 
 But, till I have digefted fome fad Thoughts, 
 And reconcil'd Paffions that are at War 
 Within myfelf, I purpofe to be private. 
 And have you Care, unlefs it be Francifco, 
 That no Man be admitted. 
 
 'Tib. How, Francifco ! [Mde. 
 
 Steph. He, that at ev'ry Stage keeps Livery Miftref- 
 fes; 
 The Stallion of the State ! [Afide. 
 
 Tib. They are Things above us, 
 And fo no Way concern us. [Ajide* 
 
 Steph. If I were 
 The Duke (I freely muft confefs my Weaknefs) 
 
 Enter Francifco. 
 
 J mould wear yellow Breeches. Here he comes. 
 
 [AJide. 
 Tib. Nay, fpare your Labour, Lady, we know our 
 Duty, 
 And quit the Room. [Exit. 
 
 Steph. Is this her Privacy ? 
 Tho* with the Hazard of a Check, perhaps, 
 This may go to the Duke. [Afide.\ [Exit Steph.
 
 z$6 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Marc. Your Face is full 
 Of Fears and Doubts. The Reafon ? 
 
 Fran. O beft Madam, 
 They are not counterfeit. I, your poor Convert, 
 That only wifh to live in fad Repentance, 
 To mourn my defperate Attempt of you, 
 That have no Ends nor Aims, but that your Goodnefs 
 Might be a Witnefs of my Penitence, 
 Which feen, would teach you how to love your Mercy, 
 Am robb'4 of that laft Hope. The Duke, the Duke, 
 I more than fear, hath found that I am guilty. 
 
 Marc. By my unfpotted Honour, not from me ; 
 Nor have I with him chang'd one Syllable 
 Since his Return but what you heard. 
 
 Fran. Yet Malice 
 Is Eagle-ey'd, and would fee that which is not, 
 And Jealoufy's too apt tg puild upon 
 Vnfure Foundations, 
 
 Marc, Jealoufy ? 
 
 Fran, It takes. [Afidei 
 
 Marc. Who dares but only think I can be tainted ? 
 But for him, thp* almoft on certain Proof ? 
 To give it Hearing, not Belief, deferves 
 My Hate for ever. 
 
 Fran. Whether grounded on 
 Your noble, yet chafte Favours fhewn unto me ; 
 Or her Imprifonment, for her Contempt 
 To you, by my Cpmmand, my frantick Wife 
 Hath put it in his Head. - 
 
 Marc. Have I then liv'd 
 So long, now to be doubted ? Are my Favours 
 The Themes of her Difcourfe ? or what I do, 
 Tk& never trod in a fufpec"ted Path, 
 Subje$:tp pafe Contraction ? Be undaunted: 
 For now, as of a Creature that is mine, 
 I rife up your Protedtrefs. All the Grace 
 I hitherto have done you, was beftow'd 
 With a Ihut Hand : It fliall ,be now more free, 
 Open and liberal. But let it not,
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN* 237 
 
 Tho' counterfeited to the Life, teach you 
 To nourifh faucy Hopes. 
 
 Fran. May I be blafted 
 When I prove fuch a Monfter ! 
 
 Marc, I will ftand then 
 Between you and all Danger. He fhall know, 
 Sufpicion overturns what Confidence builds, 
 And he that dares but doubt^ when there's no Ground, 
 Is neither to himfelf nor others found. [Exh. 
 
 Fran. So let it work ! Her Goodnefs, that deny'd 
 My Service, branded with the Name of Luft, 
 Shall now deftroy itfelf j and fhe fhall find, 
 When he's a Suitor, that brings Cunning arm'd 
 With Power to be his Advocates, the Denial 
 Is a Difeafe as killing as the Plague, 
 And Chaftity a Clue that leads to Death. 
 Hold but thy Nature, Duke, and be but ralh 
 And violent enough, and then at Leifure 
 Repent. I care not. 
 
 And let my Plots produce this long'd-for Birth, 
 In my Revenge I have my Heav'n on Earth. [Exit. 
 
 SCENE. III. 
 
 Enter Sforza, Pefcara, and three Gentlemen. 
 
 Tefc. You promis'd to be merry. 
 1 Gent. There are Pleafures, 
 And of all Kinds, to entertain the Time.- 
 
 2 Gent. Your Excellence vouchfafing to make Choice 
 Of that which belt affects you. 
 
 Sfor. Hold your prating ! 
 Learn Manners too : you are rude. 
 
 3 Gent. I have my Anfwer 
 Before I afk the Queftion. 
 
 Pefc. I muft borrow 
 The Privilege of a Friend, and will ; or elfc 
 I am, like thefe, a Servant, or what's worfe, 
 
 ( - i I
 
 238 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 A Parafite to the Sorrow Sforza worfhips 
 In fpiteof Reafon. 
 
 Sfor. Pray you ufe your Freedom ; 
 And fo far, if you pleafe, allow me mine^ 
 To hear you only, not to be compelled 
 To take your Moral Potions. I am a Man, 
 And, tho' Philofophy your Miflrefs rage for'r^ 
 Now I have Caufe to grieve, I mult be fad ; 
 And I dare fhew it* 
 
 Pefc. Would it were beflow'd 
 Upon a worthier Subject. 
 
 Sfer. Take Heed, Friend ! 
 You rub a Sore, whofe Pain will make me mad ; 
 And I mail then forget myfelf and you. 
 Lance it no further* 
 
 Pefc. Have you flood the Shock 
 Of thoufand Enemies, and out*fac'd the Anger 
 Of a great Emperor, that vow'd your Ruin, 
 Tho' by a defp'rate, a glorious Way, 
 That had no Precedent ? Are you return'd with Honour* 
 iov'd by your Subjects ? Does your Fortune court you, 
 Or rather fay, your Courage does command it ? 
 Have you giv'n Proof, to this Hour of your Life, 
 Profpenty (that fearches the beft Temper) 
 Could never puff you up, nor adverfe Fate 
 Deject your Valour > Shall I fay thefe Virtues, 
 So many and fo various Trials of 
 Your conftant Mind, be buried in the Frown 
 (To pleafe you, I will fay fo) of a fair Woman ? 
 Yet I have feen her Equals. 
 
 Sfor. Good Pefcara, 
 This Language in another were prophane ; 
 In you it is unmannerly. Her Equal ? 
 I tell you as a Friend, and tell you plainly, 
 (To all Men elfe my Sword mould make Reply) 
 Her Goodnefs does difdain Comparifon, 
 And, but herfelf, admits no Parallel. 
 But you will fay fhe's crofs, 'tis fit fhe ihould be, 
 When I am foolifti ; for Ihe's wife, Pefcara, 
 And knows how far me may difpofe her Bounties,
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 239 
 
 Her Honour fafe ; or, if fhe were averfe, 
 
 Twas a Prevention of a greater Sin 
 
 Ready to fall upon me ; for fhe's not ignorant, 
 
 But truly underftands how much I love her, 
 
 And that her rare Parts do deferve all Honour, 
 
 Her Excellence increafing with her Years too, 
 
 I might have fallen into Idolatry, 
 
 And, from the Admiration of her Worth, 
 
 Been taught to think there is no Pow'r above her ; 
 
 And yet I do believe, had Angels Sexes, 
 
 The moft would be fuch Women, and aflume 
 
 No other Shape, when they were to appear 
 
 In their full Glory. 
 
 Pefc. Well, Sir, Fll not crofs you, 
 Nor labour to diminiih your Efteem 
 Hereafter of her fince your Happinefs 
 (As you will have it) has alone Dependence 
 Upon her Favour, from my Soul, I wifh you 
 A fair Atonement.** 
 
 Sfor. Time, and my Submiflion. 
 
 Enter Tiberio and Stephano. 
 
 May work her to it. O ! you are well return 'd ; 
 
 Say, am I blefl ? Hath fhe vouchfaf'd to hear yo > 
 Is there Hope left that fhe may be appeas'd ? 
 Let her propound, and gladly I'll fubfcribe 
 To her Conditions. 
 
 Tib. She, Sir, yet is froward, 
 And defires Refpite, and fome Privacy. 
 
 Stepb. She was harm at firft; but, ere we parted, 
 feem'd not 
 Implacable. 
 
 Sfor. There's Comfort yet : I'll ply her 
 Each Hour with new Ambafladors, of more Honours, 
 Titles, and Eminence. My fecond Self, 
 Francifcof fhall folicit her. 
 
 Stepb. That a wife Man, 
 And what is more, a Prince, that may command, 
 Should fue thus poorly, and treat with his Wife, 
 
 2 3 Atonement means here a Reconciliation. M. M.
 
 2 4 o THE DUKE OF MILAN, 
 
 As flic were a victorious Enemy, 
 
 At whofe proud Feet, himfelf, his State, and County 
 
 Bafely begg'd Mercy ! 
 
 Sfor* What is that you mutter ? 
 1*11 have thy Thoughts* 
 
 Steph* You fhall : You are too fond, 
 And feed a Pride that's fvvol'n too big already j 
 And furfeits with Obfervance. 
 
 Sfor, O my Patience ! 
 My Vaflal fpeak thus ? 
 
 Steph. Let my Head anfwer it* 
 If I offend* She that you think a Saint^ 
 I fear, may play the Devil. 
 
 Pefi. Well faid, old Fellow. 
 
 Steph. And he that hath fo long engrofs'd your Favours* 
 Tho' to be nam'd with Rev'rence, Lord Francifco, 
 Who* as you purpofe, fhall follicit for you, 
 I think's too near her. 
 
 Pefii Hold, Sir ; this is Madnefs. 
 
 Steph* It may be they confer of winning Lordfhips ; 
 I'm fure he's private with her. 
 
 Sfor* Let me go ; 
 I fcorn to touch him ; he deferves my Pity, 
 And not my Anger. Dotard ! and to be one 
 Is thy Protection, elfe thou durfl not think 
 That Love to my Marcelia hath left Room 
 In my full Heart for any jealous Thought : 
 That idle Paffion dwell with thick-fcull'd Tradefrnen, 
 The undeferving Lord, or the unable. 
 Lock up thy own Wife, Fool, that muft take Phyfick 
 From her young Dodtor, and upon her Back, 
 Becaufe thou haft the Palfey in that Part 
 That makes her active. I could fmile to think 
 What wretched Things they are that dare be jealous. 
 Were I match 'd to another Mejfallne 9 
 While I found Merit in myfelf to pleafe her, 
 I fliould believe her chafte, and would not feek 
 To find out my own Torment : But, alas ! 
 Enjoying one that, but to me's, a Dian, * 
 I'm too fecure, 
 
 H A Contra&ion of Diana.
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 241 
 
 , Tib. This is a Confidence 
 Beyond Example. 
 
 Enter Graccho, Ifabelh, and Mariana. 
 
 Grac. There he is-^ Now fpeak> 
 Or be for ever filent. 
 
 Sfor. If you come 
 To bring me Comfort, fay that you have made 
 My Peace with my Marcelia. 
 
 Ifab. I had rather 
 Wait on you to your Funeral. 
 
 Sfor* You are my Mother ! 
 Or, by her Life, you were dead die; 
 
 Marti Would you were, 
 To your Difhonour ! and, fince Dotage makes yoii 
 Wilfully blind, borrow of me my Eyes, 
 Or fome Part of my Spirit. Are you all Flefh ? 
 A Limb of Patience only ? no Fire in you ? 
 But do yourPleafure Here your Mother wat 
 Committed by your Servant (for I fcorn 
 To call him Hufband* and myfelf, your Sifter 
 If that you dare remember fuch a Name) 
 Mew'd up to make the Way open and free 
 For the Adultrefs, I am unwilling 
 To fay a Part of Sforza. 
 
 Sfor. Take her Head off; 
 She hath blafphem'd, and by our Law muft die. 
 
 Ifab-. Blafphem'd, for calling of a Whore, a Whore > 
 
 Sfor. O Hell ! what do I fuffer ! 
 
 Marl. Or is it Treafon 
 For me, that am a Subject, to endeavour 
 To lave the Honour of the Duke, and that 
 He fhould not be a Wittal on Record ? 
 For by Poiterity 'twill be beljev'dj 
 As certainly as now it can be prov'd, 
 Frannfo, the great Minion that fways all, 
 To meet the chafte Embraces of the Dutchefs, 
 
 Vol L R
 
 2 4 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Hath legp'd into her Bed. 
 
 Sfor, Some Proof, vile Creature ! 
 Or thou hall: fpoke thy latt. 
 
 Mar l j. The pub lick Fame ; 
 Their hourly private Meetings ; and, e'en now, 
 When, under a Pretence of Grief or Anger 
 You are deny'd the Joys due to a Hufband, 
 And made a Stranger to her, at all Times 
 The Door ftands open to him. To a Dutchman 
 This were enough ; but to a right Italian, 
 A hundred thouland Witneffes. 
 
 I fab. Would you have us 
 To be her Bawds ? 
 
 Sfor. O the Malice 
 And Envy of bafe Women, that with Horror, 
 Knowing their own Defects, and inward Guilt, 
 Dare lye, and fwear, and damn, for what's moft falfe, 
 To cafl: Afperlions upon one untainted ? 
 Y'are in your Natures Devils, and your Ends 
 (Knowing your Reputations funk for ever, 
 And not to be recover'd,) to have all 
 Wear your black Livery. Wretches \ you have raised 
 A Monument's Trophy to her Purenefs, 
 In this your ftudy'd Purpofe to deprave her : 
 And all the Shot made by your foul Detraction 
 Falling upon her fure-arm'd Innocence, 
 Returns upon yourfelves ; and, if my Love 
 Could fufter an Addition, I'm fo far 
 From giving Credit to you, this would teach me 
 More to admire and ferve her. Y'are not worthy 
 To fall as Sacifices to appeafe her ; 
 And therefore live till your own Envy burft you. 
 
 Ifab. All is in vain ; he is not to be mov'iL 
 
 Mart. She has bewitch'd him. 
 
 Pefe. 'Tis fo pad Belief, 
 To me it fnews a Fable,
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 Enter Francifco and a Servant, 
 
 H} 
 
 Fran, On thy Life, 
 Provide my Horfesj and without the Port 
 With Care attend me. 
 
 Serv. I mall, my Lord. [Exit Servant* 
 
 Grac, He's come* 
 What Gimcrack have we next ? 
 
 Fran. Great Sir* 
 
 Sfor. Francifco; 
 Tho' all the Joys in Woman are fled from me, 
 In thee I do embrace the full Delight 
 That I can hope from Man. 
 
 Fran. I would impart, 
 'Pleafe you to lend your Ear, a weighty Secret, 
 I am in Labour to deliver you; 
 
 Sfor. All leave the Room. Excufe me, good Pefcara; 
 Ere long I will wait on you. 
 
 Pefc. You {peak, Sir, 
 The Language I ihould ufe. 
 
 Sfor. Be within Call ; 
 Perhaps we may have Ufe of you. 
 
 Tib. We fhall, Sir. [Exeunt all but Sfor. and Fran. 
 
 Sfor. Say on, my Comfort. 
 
 Fran. Comfort ? No, your Torment ; 
 For fo my Fate appoints me I could curfc 
 The Hour that gave me Being. 
 
 Sfor. What new Monflers 
 Of Mifery (land ready to devour me ? 
 Let them at once difpatch me. 
 
 Fran. Draw your Sword then, 
 And, as you wifh your own Peace, quickly kill me^ 
 Coniider not, but do it. 
 
 Sfor. Art thou mad ? 
 
 Fran. Or, if to take my Life be too much Mercy, 
 (As Death, indeed, concludes all human Sorrows) 
 Cut off my Nofe and Ears ; pull out an Eye, 
 The other only left to lend me Light 
 
 R 2
 
 244 THE DUKE OF MILAN, 
 
 To fee my own Deformities. Why was I born 
 Without fome'Muldt impos'd on me by Nature ? 
 Would from my Youth a loathfome Leprofy 
 Had run upon this Face, or that my Breath 
 Had been infectious, and fomade me fhunn'd 
 Of all Societies f curs'd be he that taught me 
 Difcoyrfe or Manners, or lent any Grace 
 That makes the Owner pleafing in the Eye 
 Of wanton Women, fince tboie Parts, which others 
 Value as Blcffings, are to me Afflictions : 
 Such my Condition is. 
 
 Sfor. I'm on the Rack I 
 Diilblve this doubtful Riddle. 
 
 Fran. That I alone, 
 Of all Mankind, that ftand mofl bound to love you, 
 And ftiidy your Content, mould be appointed, 
 Not by my Will, but fore'd by cruel Fate, 
 To be your greateft. Enemy not to hold you 
 In this Amazement longer, in a Word, 
 Your Dutchefs loves me. 
 
 Sfor. Loves thee ! 
 
 Fran. Is mad for me ; 
 Purfues me hourly. 
 
 Sfor. Oh ! 
 
 Fran. And from hence grew 
 Her late Neglect of vou* 
 
 Sfor. O Women ! Women ? 
 
 Fran. I laboured to divert her by Perfuaiion ; 
 Then urg'd your much Love to her, and the Danger ; 
 T)eny'd her, and with Scorn. 
 
 Sfor. Twas like thyfelf. 
 
 Fran. But when I fawherfmile, then heard her fay, 
 Your Love and extreme Dotage as a Cloak 
 Should cover our Embraces, and your Power 
 Fright others from Suspicion, and all Favours 
 That mould preferve her in her Innocence, 
 By Luft inverted to be us'd as Bawds ; 
 I could not but in Duty (tho' I know 
 That the Relation kills in you all Hope 
 Of Peace hereafter, and in me 'twill (hew
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. -245 
 
 Both bafe and poor to rife up her Accufer) 
 Freely difcover ir. 
 
 Sfor* Eternal Plagues 
 Purfue and overtake her ! for her Sake 
 To all Posterity may he prove a Cuckold, 
 And, like to me, a Thing fo miferable 
 As Words may not exprefs him, that gives Truft 
 To all-deceiving Women ! or, fince it is 
 The Will of Heaven, to preferve Mankind, 
 That we muit know and couple with thefe Serpents, 
 No wife Man ever, taught by my Example, 
 Hereafter ufe his Wife with more Refpedt 
 Than he would do his Horfe that does him Service ; 
 Bafe Woman being in her Creation made 
 A Slave to Man. But, like a Village Nurfe, 
 Stand I now curfine and considering, when 
 The tameft Fool would do ?- Within there ? Stepbano, 
 
 Tiberio, and the reft. 1 will be fudden ; 
 
 And fhe mail know and feel ; Love in Extremes 
 Abus'd, knows no Degree of Hate. 
 
 Enter Tiberio, Stephano, and Guard, 
 
 Tib. My Lord. 
 
 Sfor. Go to the Chamber of that wicked Woman. 
 
 Steph. What wicked Woman, Sir ? 
 
 Sjor. The Devil my Wife,. 
 Force a rude Entry ; and, if (he refufe 
 To follow you, drag her hither by the Hair, 
 And know no Pity ; any gentle Ufage 
 To her will call on Cruelty from me 
 To fuch as mew it. Stand you {taring ? Go, 
 And put my Will in Act. 
 
 Steph. There's no difputing. 
 
 Tib. But 'tis a Tcmpcft on the fudden rais'd 
 Who durit have dream'd of? [Exit Tib. and Steph, 
 
 Sfor. Nay, fince flic dares Dampation, 
 I'll be a Fury to her. 
 
 R-3 '
 
 246 THE DUKE OF, MILAN, 
 
 Fran. Yet, great Sir, 
 Exceed not in your Fury ; (he's yet guilty 
 Only in her Intent. 
 
 Sfor. Intent, Francifco ? 
 It does include all Fad:, and I might fooner 
 Be won to pardon Treafon to my Crown, 
 Or one that kill'd my Father, 
 
 Fran. You are wife, 
 And know what's befl to do Yet, if you pleafe 
 To prove her Temper to the Height, fay only 
 That I am dead ; and then obferve how far 
 She'll betranfported. I'll remove a little, 
 But be within your Call : Now to the Upfhot ; 
 Howe'er I'll fliift for one, [dfide.'] [Exit A 
 
 Enter Tiberio, Stephano, Marcelia, and Guard, 
 
 Marc. Where is this Monfter ? 
 This walking Tree of Jealoufy, this Preamer, 
 This horned Beaft that would be ? Oh ! are you here. 
 
 Sir? 
 Is it by your Commandment, or Allowance, 
 I am thus bafely us'd ? Which of my Virtues, 
 My Labours, Services, and Cares to pleafe you 
 (For, to a Man fufpicious and unthankful, 
 Without a Blum, I may be mine own Trumpet) 
 Invites this barbarous Courfe ? Dare you look on me 
 Without a Seal of Shame } 
 
 Sfor. Impudence, 
 How ugly thou appearft now ! thy Intent 
 To be a Whore, leaves thee not Blood enough 
 To make an honeft Blufh : What had the A&. done ? 
 
 Marc. Return'd thee the Difhonour thou deferveft, 
 Tho' willingly I had giv'n up myfelf 
 To ev'ry common Letcher 1 
 
 Sfor. Your chief Minion, 
 Your chofen Favourite, your woo'd Francifco, 
 Has dearly paid for it ; for, Wretch ! know, he's dead j 
 And by my Hand.
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 247 
 
 JWarc. The bloodier Villain thou ! 
 Rut 'tis not to be wonder'd at, thy Love 
 Docs know no other Object ; thou haft kill'd then, 
 A man I do profefs I lov'd ; a Man 
 For whom a thoufand Queens might well be Rivals, 
 But he (I fpeak it to thy Teeth) that dares be 
 A jealous Fool, dares be a Murtherer, 
 And knows no End in Mifchief. 
 
 Sfor. I begin now 
 In this my Juftice. {Stabs b&. 
 
 Marc, Oh ! I have fool'd myfelf 
 Into my Grave, and only grieve for that 
 Which, when you know you've flain an Innocent, 
 You needs mult fuffer, 
 
 Sfor. An Innocent? Let one 
 Call in Francifco, for he lives (vile Creature !) 
 
 [Exit Stephana. 
 To juftify thy Falfehood, and how often 
 With whorifli Flatteries thou'ft tempted him ; 
 I being only fit to live a Stale, 
 A Bawd and Property to your Wantonnefs. 
 
 Enter Stephana 
 
 Steph, Signior Francifco, Sir, but ev'n now 
 Took Horfe without the Ports. 
 
 Marc. We're both abus'd, 
 And both by him undone Stay, Death, a little 
 Till I have clear'd myfelf unto my Lord, and then 
 I willingly obey thee. O my Sfirza, 
 Francifco was not tempted, but the Tempter; 
 And, as he thought to win me, ihew'd the Warrant 
 That you fign'd for my Death. 
 
 Sfor. Then I believe theej 
 Believe thee innocent too. 
 
 Marc. But, being contemn'd, 
 Upon his Knees with Tears he did befeech me 
 Not to reveal it. I, foft-hearted Fool ! 
 Judging his Penitence true, was won unto it. 
 Jndeed, th* Unkindnefs to be fentene'd by you 
 
 R-4
 
 2.48 THE DUKE OF MILAN, 
 
 Beforethat I was guilty in a Thought, 
 
 Made me put on a. feeming Anger towards you, 
 
 And now behold the Ifllie. As I do, 
 
 May Hcav'n forgive you. [Z)i<.\s^ 
 
 Tib. Her fweet Soul has left ' 
 
 Her beauteous Prifon, 
 
 Steph. Look to the Duke ; he (lands 
 As if he wanted Motion. 
 
 Tib. Grief hath flopp'd 
 The Organ of his Speech. 
 
 Steph. Take up this Body, 
 And call for his Phyficians. 
 
 Sfor. O my Hear,t-ftrings. [Exeunt* 
 
 A C T V. SCENE I. 
 
 Out of the Dutchy of Milan. 
 
 , Enter Francifco and Eugenia. 
 Francifco. 
 
 tTTHY could ft thou think, Eugenia, that Rewards, 
 W Graces, or Favours, tho' ftrew'd thick upon mc x 
 Could ever bribe me to forget mine Honour ? 
 Or that I tamely would fit down, before 
 I had dry'd thefe Eyes, ftill wet with Show'rs of Tears 
 By th' Fire of my Revenge ? Look up, my deareft ! 
 For that proud Fair, that, Thief-like, itepp'd between 
 Thy promis'd Hopes, and robb'd thee of a Fortune 
 Almoir in thy Poffemon, hath found, 
 With horrid Proof, his Love, fhe thought her Qlory, 
 And an Ailurance of all Happinefs, 
 But haft'ned her fad Ruin. 
 
 Eug. Do not flatter 
 A Grief that is beneath it ; for, however 
 The credulous Duke to me prov'd falfe and cruel,
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 24? 
 
 It is impoffible he could be wrought 
 
 To look on her, but with the Eyes of Dotage, 
 
 And fo ferye her. 
 
 Fran. Such indeed, I grant ? 
 The Stream of his Affection was, and ran 
 A conftant Courfe, till I with cunning Malice 
 (And yet I wrong my Act, for it was Juftice) 
 Made it turn backward, and hate in Extremes 
 Love banim'd from his Heart, to fill the Room ; 
 s In a Word, know fair Marcelia's dead. 
 
 Eug, Dead ! 
 
 Fran, And by Sforzah Hand. Do's it not move you ? 
 How coldly you receive it ! I expected 
 The mere Relation of ib great a Bleffing, 
 Born proudly on the Wings of fweet Revenge, 
 Would have call'd on a Sacrifice of Thanks, 
 And Joy not to be bounded or conceal'd ! 
 You entertain it with a Look, as if 
 You wifh'd it were undone ! 
 
 Rug. Indeed I do : 
 For, if my Sorrows could receive Addition, 
 Her fad Fate would increafe, not lefTen 'em. 
 She never injur'd me, but entertain'd 
 A Fortune humbly, offer'd to her Hand, 
 Which a wife Lady gladly would have knccl'd for. 
 Unlefs you would impute it as a Crime, 
 She was more fair than I, and had Difcretion 
 Not to deliver up her Virgin Fort 
 (Tho' ftrait befieg'd with Flatteries, Vows, and Tears) 
 Until the Church had made it fafeand lawful. 
 And had I been the Miftrefs of her Judgment 
 ^f\.nd conftant Temper, fkilful in the Knowledge 
 Of Man's malicious Falfehood, I had never, 
 Upon his Hell-deep Oaths to marry me, 
 Giv'n up my fair Name, and my Maiden Honour 
 To his foul Luft ; nor liv'd now, being branded 
 I' th' Forehead for his Whore, the Scorn and Shame 
 Of all good Women. 
 
 Fran. Have you then no Gail, 
 Anger, or Spleen familiar to your Sex ?
 
 2 5 o THE DUKE OF MILAN, 
 
 Or is it poflible that you could fee 
 Another to pofTefs what was your due, 
 And not grow pale with Envy ? 
 
 Rug. Yes, ot him 
 That did deceive me, There's no Paflion, that 
 A Maid foinjur'dever could partake of, 
 But I have dearly fuffer'd. Thefe three Years 
 Jn my Defire and Labour of Revenge, 
 Trufted to you, I have indur'd the Throes 
 Of teeming Women ; and will hazard all 
 Fate can inflicl: on me, but I w ill reach 
 Thy Heart, falfe Sforza. You have trifled with me^ 
 And nor proceeded with that fiery Zeal 
 I look'd for from a Brother of your Spirit. 
 Sorrow forfake me, and all Signs of Grief 
 Farewel for ever, Vengeance, arm'd with Fury, 
 PofTefs me wholly, now ! 
 
 Fran. The Reafon, Sifter, 
 Of this ftrange Metamorphofis ? 
 
 Rug. Afk thy Fears : 
 Thy bafe unmanly Fears, thy poor Delays; 
 Thy dull Forgetfulnefs equal with Death ; 
 ^ly Wrong, elfe, and the Scandal which can never 
 Be wafti'd off from our Houfe but in his Blood, 
 Would have ftirr'd up a Coward to a Deed 
 In which, tho' he had fall'n, the brave Intent 
 Had crown'd itfelf with a fair Monument 
 Of noble Refolution. In this Shape 
 I hope to get Accefs ; and, then, with Shame 
 Hearing my fudden Execution, judge 
 What Honour thou haft loft, in being tranfeended 
 By a weak Woman. 
 
 Fran. Still mine own, and dearer ; 
 And yet in this you but pour Oil on Fire, 
 And offer your Affiftance where it needs not : 
 And, that you may perceive I lay not fallow, 
 But had your Wrongs ftamp'd deeply on my Heart 
 By th' Iron Pen of Vengeance, I attempted, 
 By whoring her, to cuckold him : That failing,
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 251 
 
 I did begin his Tragedy in her Death, 
 
 fb which it ferv'd as Prologue, and will make 
 
 A memorable Story of your Fortunes 
 
 In my aflur'd Revenge. Only, bed Sifter, 
 
 Let us not lofe ourfelves in the Performance, 
 
 By your rafh Undertaking ; we will be 
 
 As fudden as you could wifh. 
 
 Eug, Upon thofe Terms 
 I yield myfelf and Caufe tq be difpos'd of 
 As you think fit. 
 
 Enter a Servant, 
 
 Fran. Thy Purpofe ? 
 
 Serv. There's one Graccho, 
 That follow'd you, it fecms, upon the Track, 
 JSince you left Milan, that's importunate 
 To have Aecefs, and will not be deny'd ; 
 His Hafte, he fays, concerns you. 
 
 Fran, Bring him to me, [Exit Servant, 
 
 Tho' he hath laid an Ambufh for my Life, 
 Or Apprehenfion, yet I will prevent him^ 
 And work mine own Ends out t 
 
 Enter Graccho. 
 
 Grac. Now for my Whipping ! 
 And if I now out-ftrip him not, and catch him, 
 And by a new and ftrange Way too, hereafter 
 I'll fwear there are Worms in my Brains. {.Afa 
 
 Fran, Nqw ? my good Gracdo f 
 We meet as 'twere by Miracle ! 
 
 Grac, ^.Qve, and Puty, 
 And Vigilance in me for my Lord's Safety, 
 Firft taught me to imagine you were here, 
 And then to follow you. All's come forth, my Lord. 
 That you could wifh conceal'd. The Dutchcis' 
 
 Wound, 
 Jn the Duke's Rage put home, yet gave her Leave
 
 252 THE DUKE OF MILAN, 
 
 To acquaint him with your Practices, which your Flight 
 Did cafily confirm. 
 
 Fran. This I expected ; 
 But fure you come provided of good Counfel 
 To help in my Extremes. 
 
 Grac. I would not hurt yon. 
 
 Fran. Hew ? Hurt me ? Such another Word's thy 
 Death ; 
 Why, dar'ft thou think it can fall in thy Will, 
 T* outlive what I determine ? 
 
 Grac. How he awes me ! \_Afide, 
 
 Fran. Be brief, what brought thee, hither ? 
 
 Grac. Care to inform you 
 You are a condemn'd Man, purfu'd and fought for, 
 And your Head rated at ten thoufand Ducats 
 To him that brings it. 
 
 Fran. Very good, 
 
 Grac. All PafTages 
 Are intercepted, and choice Troops of Horfe 
 Scour o'er the neighbour Plains ; your Picture fent 
 To ev'ry State confederate with Milan. 
 That, tho' I grieve to fpeak it, in my Judgment, 
 So thick your Dangers meet, and run upon you ? 
 It is impoflible you Ihould efcape 
 Their curious Search. 
 
 Fug. Why, let us then turn Romans, 
 And, falling by our own Hands, mock their Threats, 
 And dreadful Preparations. 
 
 Fran. 'Twould fhow nobly ; 
 But that the Honour of our full Revenge 
 Were loft in the raih Action. No, Eugenia, 
 Graccho is wife ; my Friend too, not my Servant, 
 And I dare truft him with my lateft Secret. 
 W T e would (and thou muft help us to perform it) 
 Firft kill the Duke then, fall what can upon us \ 
 For Injuries are writ in Brafs, kind Graccho, 
 And not to be forgotten. 
 
 Grac. He inftructs me 
 What I mould do. [/fide t 
 
 Fran. What's that?
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 255 
 
 Grac. I labour with 
 A ftiongDefire t' affift you with my Service ; 
 And now I am deliver'd oft. 
 
 Fran. I told you [To Eugenia. 
 
 Speak, my oraculous Graccho. 
 
 Grac. I have heard, Sir, 
 Of Men in Debt, that lay'd for by their Creditors, 
 (In all fuch Places where it could be thought 
 They would take Shelter) chole far Sanctuary 
 Their Lodgings underneath their Creditors, 
 Or near that Prilbn to which they were defign'd, 
 If apprehended ; confident that there 
 They never mould be fought for. 
 
 Euf. 'Tis a ftrange one ! 
 
 Fran. But what infer you from it ? 
 
 Grac. This, my Lord ; 
 That, fince all Ways of your Efcape are ftoppM, 
 In Milan only, or, what's more, i'th' Court 
 (Whither it is prefum'd you dare not come) 
 Conceal'd in fome Difguife, you may live fafe. 
 
 Profit And not to be difcover'd ? 
 
 Grac. But by myfelf. 
 
 Fran. By thee? Alas! I know thee honed, Graccho t 
 And I will put thy Counfel into Act, 
 And fuddenly. Yet, not to be ungrateful 
 For all thy loving Travel to prefcrve me, 
 What bloody End foe'er my Stars appoint, 
 Thou (halt be fafe, good Graccko. Who's within there > 
 
 Grac. In the Devil's Name, what means he ? [Afide . 
 
 Enter Servants. 
 
 Fran. Take my Friend 
 Into yourCuftody, and bind him faftj 
 I would not part with him. 
 
 Grac, My good Lord. 
 
 Fran. Difpatch : 
 'Tis for your good, to keep you honed, Gfdc'cbo, 
 1 would not have ten thouland Ducats tempt you 
 (Being of a.foft aud Wax-like Difpofuion)
 
 254 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 To play the Traitor ; nor a foolifti Itch 
 
 To be reveng'd for your late excellent Whipping 
 
 Give you the Opportunity to offer 
 
 My Head for Satisfaction. Why, thou Fool, 
 
 I can look thro' and thro' thee : thy Intents 
 
 Appear to me as written in thy Forehead 
 
 In plain and eafy Characters ; and but that 
 
 I fcorn a Slave's bafe Blood mould ruft that Sword 
 
 That from a Prince expects a fear let Dye*. 
 
 Thou now were dead ; but live only to pray 
 
 For good Succefs to crown my Undertakings, 
 
 And then, at my Return, perhaps, I'll free thee, 
 
 [Exeunt Servants zvith Graccho. 
 To make me further Sport. Away with him ! 
 I will not hear a Syllable. We muff truft 
 Ourfelves, Eugenia ; and tho' we make ufe of 
 The Counfel of our Servants, that Oil fpent, 
 Like Snuffs that do offend, we tread them out. 
 But now to our lafl Scene, which we'll fo carry> 
 That few fhall underftand how 'twas begun, 
 Till all, with half an Eye, may fee 'tis done* [Exeunt* 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 An inner Apartment in the Palace. 
 
 Enter Pefcara, Tiberio, and Stcphano. 
 
 Pcfc. The like was never read of. 
 
 Steph. In my Judgment, 
 To all that fhall but hear it, 'twill appear 
 A molt impoffible Fable. 
 
 Tib. For FrancifsO) 
 My Wonder is the lefs, becaufe there are p 
 
 Too many Precedents of unthankful Men 
 Rais'd up to Greatnefs which have after ftudie4 
 The Ruin of their Makers. 
 
 Steph. But that Melancholy, 
 Tho' ending in Diftradtion, mould work
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 235 
 So far upon a Man as to compel him 
 To court a Thing that has not Senfe nor Being, 
 Is unto me a Miracle. 
 
 P^ 'Troth, I'll tell you, 
 And brieflv as I can, bv what Degrees 
 He fell into this Madnefs. When bv the Care 
 Of his Phyficians he was brought to Life, 
 As he had only pafs'd a fearful Dream, 
 And had not acted what I grieve to think on, 
 He call'd for fair Marcelia, and being told 
 That fhe was dead, he broke forth in Extremes, 
 (I would not fay blafphem'd) and cry'd that Heaven 
 For all the Offences that Mankind could do, 
 Would never be fo cruel as to rob it 
 Of fo much Sweetnefs, and of fo much Goodnefs,. 
 That not alone was facred in herfelf, 
 But did preferve all others innocent 
 That had but Converfe with her. Then it came 
 Into his Fancy that me was accus'd 
 By his Mother and his Sifter ; thrice he curs'd 'em, 
 And thrice his defperate Hand was on his Sword 
 To've kill'd 'em both ; but he reftrain'd, and they 
 Shunning his Fury, 'fpite of all Prevention 
 He would have turn'd his Rage' upon himfelf ; 
 When wifely his Phyficians looking on 
 The Dutchefs' Wound, to ftay his ready Hand, 
 Cry'd out, it was not mortal. 
 
 Tib, 'Twas well thought on. 
 
 Pefc. He eafily believing what he wifh'd 
 More than a Perpetuity of Pleafure 
 In any Object elfe ; flatter'd by Hope, 
 Forgetting his own Greatnefs, he fell proftrate 
 At the Doctor's Feet, implor'd their Aid, and fvvore. 
 Provided they recover'd her, he would live 
 A private Man, and they mould fhare his Dukedom. 
 They feem'd to promife fair, and cv'ry Hour 
 Vary their Judgments, as they find his Fit. 
 To fufFer Inteimiffion or Extremes : 
 For his Behaviour fincc
 
 56 THE tiU KE OF MILAN.- 
 
 Sfor. (Within) As you have Pity, 
 Support her gently. 
 
 Pefci. Now, be your own Witncflcs ; 
 I am prevented. 
 
 Enter Sforza* Ifabelhj Mariana ; the Hody of Marcelist 
 brought in ; Doftor's Servants. 
 
 Sfor. Carefully, I befcech yOu ; 
 The gentlefl Touch torments her, and then think 
 What I ihall fuffer. O you earthy Gods, 
 You fecond Natures^ that from your great Matter 
 (Who join'd the Limbs of torn Hippolitus, 
 And drew upon himfelf the Thunderer's Envy) 
 Are taught thofe hidden Secrets that reftore 
 To Life Death^woundcd Mehj you have a Patient 
 On whom t' exprefs the Excellence of Art* 
 Will bind ev'n Heav'n your Debtor, tho' it pleafes 
 To make your Hands the Organs of a Work 
 The Saints will fmile to look on, and good Angels 
 Clap their celeftial Wings to give it Plaudits. 
 How. pale and wan fhe looks ! O pardon me, 
 That I prefume (dy'd o'er with bloody Guilt, 
 Which makes me, 1 confefs, fary far unworthy) 
 To touch this Snow-white Hand. How cold it is I 
 This once was Cupid's Fire-brandy and Hill 
 'Tis fo to me. How flow her Pulfcs beat too ; 
 Yet, in this Temper, fhe is all Perfection 
 And Miftrefs of a Heat fo fulj of Sweetnefs, 
 The Blood of Virgins, in their Fride of Youth* 
 Are Balls of Snow or Ice compar'd unto her. 
 
 Mart. Is not this ftxange ? 
 
 lfib. Oh ! crofs him not, dear Daughter ; 
 Our Confcience tells us we have been abus'd, 
 Wrought to accufe the Innocent, and with him 
 Are guilty of a Fadt. 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 Mart. 'Tis now part Help.
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 257 
 
 Pe/c. With me ? What is he ? 
 
 Serv. He has a flrange Afpect ; 
 A Jew by Birth, and a Phyfician 
 By his Profeffion, as he fays, who, hearing 
 Of the Duke's Phrenfy, on the Forfeit of 
 His Life, will undertake to render him 
 Perfect in every Part. Provided that 
 Your Lordfhip's Favour gain him free Accefs, 
 And your Pow'r with the Duke a fafe Protection, 
 Till the great Work be ended* 
 
 Pe/c. Bring me to him ; 
 As I findCaufe, I'll do. [Exeunt Pefcara and Servant* 
 
 Sfor. How found fhe fleeps ! 
 
 Heav'n keep her from a Lethargy ! How long 
 
 (But anfwer me with Comfort, I befeech you) 
 Does your fure Judgment tell you, that thefe Lids 
 That cover richer Jewels than themfelves, 
 Like envious Night, will bar thefe glorious Suns 
 From mining on me ? 
 
 1 Doff. We have giv'n her, Sir, 
 
 A fleepy Potion that will hold her long, 
 That me may be lefs fenfible of the Torment 
 The Searching of her Wound will put her to. 
 
 2 Doft. She now feels little ! but, if we mould wake 
 
 her, 
 To hear her fpeak would fright both us and yon, 
 And therefore dare not haften it. 
 
 Sfor. I'm patient. 
 You fee I do not rage, but wait your Pleafure. 
 What do you think fhe dreams of now ? for fure, 
 Altho' her Body's Organs are bound faft, 
 Her Fancy cannot {lumber. 
 
 1 Docl. That, Sir, looks on 
 Your Sorrow for your late ram Act with Pity 
 Of what you fufFer for it, and prepares 
 To meet the free Confeffion of your GuUt 
 With a glad Pardon. 
 
 Sfor. She was ever kind, 
 And her Difpleafure, tho' call'd on, ihort-livM 
 
 Vol. I. S
 
 1$ THE DUKE, OF MILAN. 
 
 Upon the leaftSubmiffion. O you Powers 
 
 That can convey our Thoughts to one another 
 
 Without the Aid of Eyes or Ears, aflat me ! 
 
 Let her behold me in a pleafing Dream 
 
 Thus, on my Knees before her ! (yet that Duty 
 
 In me is not fufficient) let her fee me 
 
 Compel my Mother, from whom I took Life, 
 
 And this my Sifter, Partner of my Being, 
 
 To bow thus low unto her ; let her hear us 
 
 In my Acknowledgment freely confefs 
 
 That we in a Degree as high are guilty 
 
 As ilie is innocent. Bite your Tongues, vile Creatures, 
 
 And let your inward Horror fright your Souls, 
 
 For having bely'd that Purenefs, to come near which 
 
 All Women that Pofterity can bring forth 
 
 Mufl be, tho' ftriving to be good, poor Rivals. 
 
 And for that Dog Francifco, (that fedue'd me, 
 
 In wounding her, to rale a Temple built 
 
 To Chaftity and Sweetnefs) let her know 
 
 I'll follow him to Hell but I will find him, 
 
 And there live a fourth Fury to torment him. 
 
 Then for this curfed Hand and Arm, that guided 
 
 The wicked Steel, I'll have them Joint by Joint 
 
 With burning Irons fear'd off, which I will eat, 
 
 I being a Vulture fit totafle fuch Carrion. 
 
 Laftly- 
 
 i Docl. You are too loud, Sir ; you difturb 
 Her fweet Repofe. 
 
 Sfor. I'm hufh'd. Yet give us Leave, 
 Thus proftrate at her Feet, our Eyes bent downward, 
 Unworthy, and afham'd to look upon her, 
 T J expect her gracious Sentence. 
 
 2 Docf. He's pall Hope. 
 
 i DoB. The Body too will putrify, and then 
 We can no longer cover the Impofture ; 
 
 Tib. Which in her Death will quickly be difcover'd. 
 I can but weep his Fortune. 
 
 Stepb. Yet be careful 
 You lofc no Minute to preferve him ; Time 
 May leflfen his Diftra&ion.
 
 THE DutE OF MILAN. 25$ 
 
 Enter Pefcara, Francifco, and Eugenia. 
 
 Fran. I am no God, Sir, 
 To give a new Life to her ; yet I'll hazard 
 My Head, I'll work the fenfelefs Trunk t'appear" 
 To him as it had got a fecond Being, 
 Or that the Soul that's fled from't, were call'd back 
 To govern it again. I will preferve it 
 In the firfl Sweetnefs, and by a ftrange Vapour, 
 "Which I'll infufe into her Mouth, create 
 A feeming Breath : I'll make her Veins run high too, 
 As if they had true Motion. 
 
 Pefc. Do but this, 
 Till we ufe Means to win upon his Paflions 
 T' endure to hear ihe's dead with fome fmall Patience^ 
 And make thy own Reward. 
 
 Fran, The Art I ufe 
 Admits no Looker on : I only afk 
 The fourth Part of an Hour, to perfect that $ 
 
 I boldly undertake. 
 
 Pefc. I will procure it. 
 
 2 Dotl. What Granger's this ? 
 
 Pefc. Sooth me in all I fay ; 
 There is^ a main End in't* 
 
 Fran. Beware 1 
 
 Rug. I'm warn'd. 
 
 Pefc. Look up, Sir, chearfully ; Comfort in me 
 Flows ftrongly to you. 
 
 Sfor. From whence came that Sound ? 
 Was it from my Marcelia f If it were, 
 I rife, and Joy will give me Wings to meet it. 
 
 Pefc. Nor mall your Expectation be deferr'd 
 But a few Minutes. Your Phyficians are 
 Mere Voice, and no Performance : I have found 
 A Man that can do Wonders : Do not hinder 
 The Dutchefs' wifh'd Recovery to enquire, 
 Or what he is, or to give Thanks, but leave him 
 To work this Miracle. 
 
 Sfor. Sure, 'tis my good Angel : 
 
 S 2
 
 ^6o THE DUKE 0% MILAN. 
 
 I do obey in all Things ; be it Death 
 
 For any tfc difturb him, or come near, 
 
 Till he be pleas'd to call us. O, be profp'rous, 
 
 And make a Duke thy Bondman ! 
 
 [Exeunt all but Francifco and Eugenia. 
 
 Fran* 'Tis my Purpofe ; 
 If that to fall a long-wilh'd Sacrifice 
 To my Revenge can be a Benefit ; 
 I'll firft make raft the Doors. So. 
 
 Eug. You amaze me : 
 What follows now ? 
 
 Fran. A full Conclufion 
 Of all thy Wifhes. Look on this, Eugenia, 
 Ev'n fuch a Thing, the proudeft Fair on Earth 
 (For whofc Delight the Elements are ranfack'd, 
 And Art with Nature ftudies to preferve her) 
 Mull be, when Ihe is iummon'd to appear 
 V th' Court of Death. -But I lofe Time. 
 
 Fug. What mean you ? 
 
 Fran. Difturb me not. Your Ladyfhip looks pale ; 
 But I, your Doctor, have a Cerufe for you. 
 See, my Eugenia, how many Faces, 
 That are ador'd in Court, borrow thefe Helps, 
 
 [Paints the Body. 
 And pafs for Excellence, when the better Part 
 Of them are like to this, Your Mouth fmells four too ; 
 But here is -that fhall take avyay the Scent, 
 A precious Antidote old Ladies ufe 
 When they would kifs, knowing their Gums are rotten : 
 Thefe Hands too, that difdain'd to take a Touch 
 From any Lip, whofe Honour writ not Lord, 
 Are now but as the coarfeft Earth ! but I 
 Am at the Charge, my Bill not to be paid too, 
 To give them feeming Beauty. So, 'tis done. 
 How do you like my Workmanfhip ? 
 
 Eug. I tremble : 
 And thus to tyrannize upon the Dead 
 Is mod inhuman 
 
 Fran. Come we for Revenge, 
 And can we think on Pity ) Now to the Upfhotj .
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 26* 
 
 And, as it proves, applaud it. My Lord, the Duke, 
 Enter with Joy, and fee the fudden Change 
 Your Servant's Hand hath wrought. 
 
 Enter Sforza and the rejh 
 
 Sfor. I live again 
 In my full Confidence that Marcel'ia may 
 Pronounce my Pardon. Can me fpeak yet ? 
 
 Fran. No : 
 You muftnot look for all your Joys at once ; 
 That will afk longer Time. 
 
 Pefc. 'Tis wond'rous ftrange ! 
 
 Sfor. By all the Dues of Love I have had from her, 
 This Hand feems as it was when firft I kifs'd it : 
 Thefe Lips invite too : I could ever feed 
 Upon thefe Rofes ; they Hill keep their Colour 
 And native Sweetnefs ; only the Nectar's wanting, 
 That, like the Morning Dew in flow'ry May, 
 Preferv'd them in their Beauty. 
 
 Enter Graccho. 
 
 Grac. Treafon, Treafon ! 
 
 Tib. Call up the Guard. 
 
 Fran. Graccho ! then we are loft. 
 
 Grac. I am got off', Sir Jew. A Bribe hath done ity 
 For all your ferious Charge ; there's no Difguife 
 Can keep you from my Knowledge, 
 
 Sfor. Speak. 
 
 Grac. I am out of Breath, 
 But this is 
 
 Fran. Spare thy Labour, Fool. Francifco. zs 
 
 25 Francifco ! 
 Franclfco'% bold Avowal of his Guilt, with an emphatical Repetition 
 of his Name, and the Enumeration of his feveral Afts of Villain-, 
 which he jullifies from a Spirit of Revenge, in all Probability gave' 
 rife to one of the moll animated Scenes in dramatick Poetry. The 
 Reader will eafily fee, that I refer to the laft Aft of Dr. Young > A' - 
 venge, where Zanga, like Francifco, defends every cruel and trea- 
 cherous Aft he has committed from a Principle of deep Rcfcntment. *Z> 
 
 S %
 
 tSi THE DUKE OF MILAN, 
 
 Ml. Monfterof Men ! 
 
 Fran. Give me all Attributes 
 Of all you can imagine, yet I glory 
 To be the Thing I was born. I am Francifco ; 
 Francifco, that was rais'd by you, and made 
 The Minion of the Time ; the fame Francifco, 
 That would have whor'd this trunk when it had Life; 
 And, after, breath'd a Jealoufy upon thee, i6 
 As killing as thofe Damps that belch out Plagues 
 When the Foundation of the Earth is ftiaken; 
 1 made thee do a Deed Heav'n will not pardon, 
 Which was to kill an Innocent, 
 
 Sfor. Call forth the Tortures 
 For all that Flefh can feel. 
 
 Fran. I dare the worft ; 
 Only, to yield fome Reafon to the World 
 Why I purfu'd this Courfe, look on this Face, 
 Made old by thy bafe Falfehood ; 'tis Eugenia. 
 
 Sfor. Eugenia! 
 
 Fran. Does it ftart you, Sir ? My Sifter, 
 "Seduc'd and fool'd by thee : But thou muft pay 
 The Forfeit of thy Falfehood. Does it not work yet ? 
 Whate'er becomes of me (which I efteem not) 
 Thou art mark'd for the Grave. I've giv'n thee Poifon 
 In this Cup, * 7 now obferve me, which thy laft ^ 
 Caroufing deeply of, made thee forget 
 Thy vow'd Faith to Eugenia. 
 
 Pefc. O damn'd Villain! 
 
 Ifab. How do you, Sir ? 
 
 Sfor, Like one 
 ^That learns to know in Death what Punimment 
 
 $3* 6 A Jealoujy upon tbee 
 
 As killing as tbofe Damps, &c. 
 
 This is a beautiful Simil, and truly original ; en the whole the 
 Beauties of this Tragedy, though inferior to thofe of Shakcfpcar** 
 Othello, are fuch peculiar Excellencies, that there are none of any 
 Author, ancient or modern, that can be brought in Competition 
 with them. 
 
 91 In this Qnp roeajtt ihe L,ips of MarceUa. M. M.
 
 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 263 
 Waits on the Breach of Faith. Oh ! now I feel 
 KxiJEtna in my Entrails. I have liv'd 
 A Prince, and my laft Breath fhall be command. 
 I burn, I burn ! yet ere Life be confum'd, 
 Let me pronounce upon this Wretch all Torture 
 That witty Cruelty can invent. 
 
 Pefc. Away with him ! 
 
 'Tib. In all Things we will ferve you. 
 
 Fran. Farewel, Sifter i 
 Now I have keptaiy Word, Torments I fcorn : 
 I leave the World with Glory. They are Men, 
 And leave behind them Name and Memory, 
 That wrong'd, do right themfelves before they die. 
 
 [Bxeunt Guard with Francifco. 
 
 Steph. A defperate Wretch ? 
 
 Sfor. I come : Death ! I obey thee. 
 -Yet I will not die raging ; for alas ! 
 My whole Life was a Frenfy. Good Eugenia, 
 In Death forgive me. As you love me, bear her 
 To fome religious Houfe, there let her fpend 
 The remnant of her Life. When I am Allies, 
 Perhaps fhe'll be appeas'd, and fpare a Prayer 
 For my poor Soul. Bury me with Marcelia 
 And let our Epitaph be> [Dies, 
 
 Tib. His Speech is ftop't. 
 
 Steph. Already dead ? 
 
 Pefc. It is in vain to labour 
 To call him back. We'll give him Funeral, 
 .And then determine of the State Affairs : 
 And learn, from this Example, " There's no Truft 
 " In a Foundation that is built on Luft." 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 It is not my Intention to trouble the Reader in this Edition 
 with Remarks on every Play ; but I cannot fuffer this of the DuU 
 f Milan to pafs unnoticed, as I confider it to be one of the nobleft 
 Tragedies that ever was compofed, pofleffing every Excellence of the 
 Age in which it was written, without any of the Faults with which 
 they are generally accompanied. It is fo fric from Ribaldry, and 
 
 s 4
 
 264 THE DUKE OF MILAN. 
 
 even from Buffoonery, that I wonder it fucceeded : Gracclw, indeed," 
 is fometimes ludicrous, but is never indecent ; nor is he a Character 
 wantonly introduced to make the Audience laugh, but a neceflary 
 Agent. The Plot is fingle; and fo very ftrictlyfo, that there is not any 
 Incident whatfoever in the Play, even to the Whipping of Gracchc y 
 that does not materially conduce to the Cataflrophe. The Lan- 
 guage is uncommonly beautiful, even for Majpnger ; the Sentiments 
 natural, elevated and affecting; and the continual Succeflion of 
 noble and interefting Situations, which keep the Attention and the 
 Feelings of the Spectators alive, mull render it delightful in the Re- 
 prcfentation, if the lafl Act were altered in fuch a Manner, that the 
 Body of Marcelia fhould hot appear in View. It muft be confeffed, 
 that in their Squabble with each other, the Princefles depart moll: cru- 
 elly from their Dignity. I will not affert that this is contrary to Na- 
 ture ; for, poffibly Rage, like other Palfions in Excefs, may level all 
 Diflincfions of Rank ; and Princefles themfelves, when thoroughly 
 irritated, may vent their Relentment like vulgar Women ; but it is 
 certainly contrary to Decorum, and fliould have been avoided. In 
 this Particular, however, the Play may eafily be corrected ; for tho' 
 it is neceflary that they fliould quarrel, it is not neceflary that they 
 fhould proceed to Blows, or abufe each other in fuch Billing/gate^ 
 Terms. 
 
 It is impoflible for any one to read this Tragedy, without turning 
 his Thoughts to Shakcfpeare's Othello, and comparing them together; 
 tor the general Subject of both thefe Plays is precifely the fame. It 
 is Jealoufy excited by the Artifices of a Villain, in the Breafl of a 
 generous, unfufpicious Man ; to fo fatal a Degree, that it urges him 
 to facrifice an innocent Wife, and finally ends in his own Deftruction, 
 with that of the Mifcreant, who worked him up to it. 
 
 So far thefe Pieces refemble each other, but here the Refemblance 
 ceafes ; for with Refpect to the Incidents that are to produce thefe 
 Events, and the Conduct and Characters of the Perfons of the 
 Drama, they differ entirely. The manly love of Othclh bears no 
 Refemblance to the impotent Dotage of Sforza ; the Mind of the 
 Moor is free from the flighted Tincture of Jealoufy ; whereas that 
 of Sforza is naturally prone to it; and, though he has a thorough Con- 
 fidence in the Virtue of his Wife, he is tormented with a reftlefs 
 Jealoufy of any other Man's poflefling her, even after his Death, 
 No two Characters were ever more unlike than the haughty, fenfi- " 
 ble, fpirited Marcelia and the gentle Defdcmona ; and the Arts of 
 Francifco are not employed to operate immediately on the Mind of 
 Sforza, as I ago does upon that of Othello, but to engage Marcelia to 
 take fuch Steps, as naturally prepare that deluded Prince, to give 
 full Belief to it, when Francifco tells him that the Dutchefs loves 
 him. It is really furprifing that two fuch beautiful Edifice?, though 
 both erected on the fame Ground-plan, fliould differ when completed 
 fo totally from each other, that there is not perhaps a fingle Cir- 
 cumftance in which the Superltrudtures agree. M. M. 
 
 End of Til's. Duke of Milan,
 
 THE 
 
 ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 TRAGEDY.
 
 T O 
 
 My much Honoured, and moft True Friendf, 
 
 Sir PHILLIP V KNYVET, Knt. and Bart. 
 
 AND TO 
 
 Sir THOMAS JEAY, Knight. 
 
 AND 
 
 THOMAS BELLINGHAM, of Newthnkr 
 in Sujfex, Efquire. 
 
 J7QW much I acknowledge my felf bound for your fo many, 
 and extraordinary Favours conferred upon me, as far as it 
 is in my Power Pofterityjhall take Notice, I were moft un- 
 zvorthy offuch noble Friends, if Ijhould not with all Thank- 
 fulnefs, profefs and own them. In the Compofttion of this 
 Tragedy you were my only Supporters, and it being new by your 
 principal Encourgemgnt to be turned into the Worlds it cannot 
 walk fafer, than under your Protetlion, It hath been happy 
 in the Suffrage of fome learned and judicious Gentlemen when 
 it was prefented, norjhall they find Caufe, I hope, in the Peru* 
 fal, to repent them of their good Opinion of it. If the Gravis 
 ty and Height of the Snbjetl diftafte jitch as are only affetled 
 with Jiggs and Ribaldry, (as I prefume it will) their Condem- 
 nation of me and my Poem, can no way offend me : My Rea- 
 fon teaching me, fitch malicious, and ignorant Detratlors de- 
 ferve rather Contempt than Satisfaction. I ever held it the 
 moft per feci Birth of my Minerva; and there f of e in Juftict 
 offer it to thofe that have beft deferved of me, who, I hope, iff 
 their courteous Acceptance will render it worth their receiving, 
 find ever, in their gentle Conftrutlion of my Imperfetlions, be- 
 lieve they may at their Pleafure difpofe of him, who is wholly 
 andftncerly 
 
 Devoted to their Service, 
 
 Philmp Massinger.
 
 Dramatis Perfonae. 
 
 Domitianus Cafar. 
 
 Paris, the Tragedian.* 
 
 Parthenius, a Free-man of 
 Cefar*s. 
 
 jElius Lamia, and Stepha- 
 nos. 
 
 Junius Rujlicus. 
 
 Aretinus Clemens, Cafars 
 Spy. 
 
 jEfopus, a Player. 
 
 Philargus, a rich Mifer. 
 
 Palphurius Sura, a Senator. 
 
 Fulcinius, a Senator. 
 
 Latinus, a Player. 
 
 Three Tribunes. 
 
 Two Lictors. 
 
 Domitia, the Wife of JElius 
 Lamia* 
 
 Domitilla, Coufin-german 
 to Cafar. 
 
 Julia, Titus's Daughter. 
 
 Gents, Vefpafiaris Concu- 
 bine. 
 
 Original Afters. 
 
 John Lowin. 
 Joseph Taylor. 
 Richard Sharpe. 
 
 Thomas Pollard. 
 
 Robert Benfield. 
 Eyllardt Swanstone. 
 
 Richard Robinson. 
 Anthony Smith. 
 William Patricke. 
 
 curtise grevill. 
 
 Giorgi Vernon. 
 Jamis Horne. 
 John Tompson. 
 
 John Hunnieman. 
 
 William Triggi. 
 Auxander Gough.
 
 T H El 
 
 ROMAN ACTOR.* 
 
 ACT I. SCENE'I. 
 SCENE, the Roman Theatre. 
 Enter Paris, Latinus, and iEfopus. 
 
 j^Efopus. 
 
 WH AT do we a& to-day ? 
 Lat. Agave's Frenzy, 
 With Pentheus 1 bloody End, 
 Paris. It fkills not what ; 
 The Times are dull, and all that we receive 
 Will hardly fatisfy the Day's Expence. 
 The Greeks (to whom we owe the firft Invention 
 Both of the bufkin'd Scene and humble Sock) 
 
 G^f** The plot of this Tragedy is taken from the Life of Domitianus 
 Emperor of Rome : MaJJingcr feems to have copied it from Suetonius^ 
 and to have been very ftrift to Hiftory : The Tale itfelf is of too 
 great a Length to tranferibe ; therefore I fhall refer the curious 
 Reader to the Original. 
 
 Mod of the old EngUJh Plays, both Tragedies and Comedies, are 
 hiftorical, not confined tomy Unity of Time, Place, or Action: But z 
 Series of Adventures told dramatically, and filled with every Inci- 
 dent that was contained in the Story. Molt of them are almoft a Tran- 
 fcript of the Hiftory or Novel which firft gave the Hint to the Poet, 
 begins with the fame Circumftances, are compofed of the fame 
 Characters, abounds with as great a Number of Epifodes, and have 
 as many different Cataftrophes to conclude the Whole : Henco it 
 happens, tha^ they are more fruitful of extraordinary Events, ami 
 are enriched with a greater Variety of common-place Reflection* 
 than perhaps our more regular Plays will allow of, though they are 
 notlb Ample in Detign, or lb agreeable to the Laws of Poetry. Or 
 nils Kind is the Roman Attor^ The Bond 'man , and moft of Majjin~
 
 2;o TttE ROMAN ACT OIL 
 
 That reign in every noble Family, 
 
 Declaim againft us : And our Amphitheatre, 
 
 Great Pompeys Work, that hath given full Delight 
 
 Both to the Eye and Ear of Fifty Thoufaad 
 
 Spectators in one Day, as if it were 
 
 Some unknown Defart, or great Rome unpeople 
 
 Is quite forfaken. 
 
 hat* Pleafures of worfe Natures 
 Are gladly entertain'd, and they that mutt u$7 
 Pradtife, in private Sports the Stews would blufh at* 
 A Litter borne by eight Liburnian Slaves* 
 To buy Difeafes from a glorious Strumpet, 
 The molt cenforious of our Roman Gentry, 
 Nay, of the guarded Robe % the Senators, 
 Efteem an eafy Purchafe. 
 
 Paris* Yet grudge us, 
 That with Delight join Profit* arid endeavour 
 To build their Minds up fair, and on the Stage 
 Decypher to the Life what Honours wait 
 On good and glorious Actions, and the Shame 
 That treads upon the Heels of Vice, the Salary 
 Of fix Sefiertiu 
 
 JEfop. For the Profit, Paris, 
 And mercenary Gain, they're Things beneath us ; 
 Since, while you hold your Grace and Power with 
 
 Cafar, 
 We, from your Bounty find a large Supply, 
 Nor can one Thought of Want ever approach us* 
 
 Paris. Our Aim is Glory, and to leave our Names 
 To Aftertime. 
 
 Lat* And, would they give us Leave, 
 There ends all our Ambition. 
 
 jEfop* We've Enemies, 
 And great Ones too, I fear. 'Tis given out lately* 
 The Conful Aretinus (Cafar\ Spy) 
 Said at his Table, ere a Month expir'd 
 (For being gall'd in our lafl Comedy) 
 He'd filence us for ever. 
 
 2 Guarded Robe, a laced or bordered Robe. The Latklavut. 
 M.M.
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 171 
 
 Paris. I expert 
 No Favour from him ; my ftrong Aventine is, 
 That great Domitian, whom we oft have cheer'd 
 In his moft fallen Moods, will once return, 
 Who can repair, with Eafe, the Confui's Ruins. 
 
 Lat. 'Tis frequent in the City, he hath fubdued, 
 The Catti and the Daci, and, ere long, 
 The fecond Time will enter Rome in Triumph. 
 
 Enter two Liftors* 
 
 Paris. Jove haften it. With us ? \ I now believe 
 The Confui's Threats, jEfopus, 
 
 . 1 Lift. You're fummon'd 
 T'appear to-day in Senate. 
 
 2 Lift. And there to anfwer 
 What ihall be urg'd againft you. 
 
 Paris. We obey you. 
 Nay, droop not, Fellows ; Innocence mould be bold. 
 We that have perfonated in the Scene 
 The ancient Heroes, and the Falls of Princes 
 With loud Applaufe, being to act ourfelves, 
 Muft do it with undaunted Confidence. 
 Whate'er our Sentence be, think 'tis in Sport. 
 And, tho' condemn'd, let's hear it without Sorrow. 
 
 1 Lift. 'Tis fpoken like yourfelf. 
 
 Enter JElius, Lamia, Junius Rufticus, Palphurlus, 
 and Sura. 
 
 Lamia. Whither goes Paris ? 
 
 1 Lift. He's cited to the Senate. 
 
 Lat. I am glad the State is 
 So free from Matters of more Weight and Trouble* 
 That it has vacant Time to look on us. 
 
 Paris. That reverend Place, in which, the Affairs of 
 Kings 
 And Provinces were determin'd, so defeend 
 
 3 U r ::'m us ? Thefe Word, are addreflcd to the Litfors. M. 3f.
 
 172 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 To th* Cenfurc of a bitter Word or Jeft, 
 
 Dropp'd from a Port's Pen ! Peace to your Lordfhips* 
 
 We are glad that you are fafc* 
 
 [Exeunt Liftors, Paris, Latinus, and JBibpus* 
 
 Lamia. What Times are theie ! 
 To what is Rome fall'n ! may we, being alone, 
 Speak our Thoughts freely of the Prince and State, 
 And not fear the Informer ? 
 
 Ruji. Noble Lamia, 
 So dangerous the Age is, and fuch bad Acts 
 Are practis'd every where, we hardly fleep, 
 Ny, cannot dream with Safety. All our Actions 
 Are call'd in Queftion ; to be nobly born 
 Js now a Crime ; and to deferve too well, 
 Held capital Treafon. Sons accufe their Fathers, 
 Fathers their Sons ; and, but to win a Smile 
 From one in Grace at Court, our chafteil Matrons 
 Make Shipwreck of their Honours. To be virtuous 
 Is to be guilty. They are only fafe 
 That know to footh the Prince's Appetite, 
 And ferve his Lufls. 
 
 Sura. 'Tis true ; and 'tis my Wonder, 
 That two Sons of fo different Nature 
 Should fpfing from good Vefpafian. We had a Titusf 
 Styl'd juftly the Delight of all Mankind, 
 Who did efteem that Day loft in his Life, 
 In which fome one or other tafted not 
 Of his magnificent Bounties : One that had 
 A ready Tear, when he was forc'd to flgn 
 The Death of an Offender : And fo far 
 From Pride, that he difdain'd not the Converfe 
 Ev'n of the pooreft Roman* 
 
 Lam. Yet his Brother, 
 Dom'ttian, that now fways the Power of Things, 
 Is fo inclin'd to Blood, that no Day paries 
 In which fome are not faften'd to the Hook, 
 Or thrown from the Tarpeian Rock. His Freemen 
 Scorn the Nobility, and he himfelf, 
 As if he were not made of Flefh and Blood, 
 Forgets he is a Man.
 
 * THE ROMAN ACTOR. 273 
 
 Rvjl. In his young Years, 
 He fhew'd what he would be when grown to Ripenefs : 
 His greatefl Pleafure was, being a Child, 
 With a fharp-pointed Bodkin to kill Flies, 
 Whofe Rooms now Men fupply. For his Efcape 
 In the Vitellian War, he rais'd a Temple 
 To Jupiter, and proudly plac'd his Figure 
 In the Bofom of the God. And in his Edi&s 
 He does not blufh, or flart, to flile himfelf 
 (As if the Name of Emperor were bafe) 
 Great Lord, and God Domitian, 
 
 Sura, I have Letters 
 He's on his Way to Rome, and purpofes 
 To enter with all Glory. The flatt'ring Senate 
 Decrees him divine Honours, and to crofs it, 
 Were Death with ftudied Torments : For my Part, 
 I will obey the Time, it is in vain 
 To ftrive againft the Torrent. 
 
 Ruft. Let's to the Curia, 
 And, tho' unwillingly, give our Suffrages 
 Before we are compel I'd. 
 
 Lamia. And, fince we cannot 
 With Safety ufe the active, let's make Ufe of 
 The paffive Fortitude, with this AfTurance 
 That the State, rick* in him, the Gods to friend, 
 Tho' at the worft, will now begin to mend. [Exeunt* 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 A Chamber. 
 Enter Domitia and Parthcnius. 
 
 Domitia. To me this Reverence ? 
 
 Parthen. I pay it, Lady, 
 As a Debt due to her that's Gefar's Miftrefs : 
 For, underftand with Joy, he that commands 
 All that the Sun gives Warmth to, is your Servant ; 
 
 T
 
 274 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Be not amaz'd, but fit you to your Fortunes. 
 Think upon the State, and Greatnefs, and the Ho- 
 nours 
 That wait upon Av.gufla, for that Name 
 Ere long comes to you. Still you doubt your VafTal ; 
 But, when you've read this Letter, writ and fign'd 
 With his imperial Hand, you will be freed 
 From Fear and Jealoufy ; and, I befeech you, 
 When all the Beauties of the Earth bow to you, 
 And Senators fhall take it for an Honour, 
 As I do now, to kifs thefe happy Feet ; 
 When ev'ry Smile you give is a Preferment, 
 And you difpofe of Provinces to your Creatures, 
 Think on Parthenius, 
 
 Domitia. Rife. I am tranfported, 
 And hardly dare believe what is afiur'd here. 
 The Means, my good Parthenius, that wrought Car/ar 
 (Our God on Earth) to cafl an Eye of Favour 
 Upon his humble Handmaid ? 
 
 Parthen. What, but your Beauty ? 
 When Nature fram'd you for her Mafterpiece, 
 As the pure Abftraft of all rare in Woman, 
 She had no other Ends but to defign you 
 To the molt, eminent Place. I will not fay 
 (For it would fmell of Arrogance to infinuate 
 The Service I have done you) with what Zeal 
 I oft have made Relation of your Virtues, 
 Or how I've fung your Goodnefs, or how Cafar 
 Was fir'd with the Relation of your Story : 
 I -am rewarded in the Aft, and happy 
 In that my Projeft profper'd. 
 
 Domitia, You are modeft. 
 And, were it in my Power, I would be thankful. 
 If that, when I was Miftrefs of myfelf, 
 And in my Way of Youth 4 , pure and untainted, 
 
 4 And in my Way of Touth, &c. 
 The fame Expreffion occurs in The Very Womart t Volume IV.
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 275 
 
 The Emperor had vouchfaf d to feek my Favours, 
 I had with Joy given up my Virgin Fort* 
 At the firft Summons, to his foft Embraces : 
 But I am now another's, not mine own. 
 You know I have a Hufband ; for my Honour 
 I would not be his Strumpet- and how Law 
 Can feedifpens'd with to become his Wife, 
 To me's a Riddle. 
 
 Parthen. I can foon refolve it : 
 When Power puts in his Plea, the Laws are filenc'd. 
 The World confeffes one Rome, and one Gefar, 
 And, as his Rule is infinite, his Pleafures 
 Are unconfin'd ; this Syllable, his Will, 
 Stands for a thoufand Rcafons. 
 
 Domitia. But with Safety, 
 Sitppofe I mould content, how can I do it ? 
 My Hufband is a Senator, of a Temper 
 Not to be jelled with. 
 
 Enter Lamia. 
 
 Parthen. As if he durft 
 Be Gefar's Rival. Here he comes ; with Eafe 
 I will remove this Scruple. 
 
 Lamia. How ! fo private ? 
 My own Houfe made a Brothel ? Sir, how durft. you, 
 Tho' guarded with your Power in Court and Greatnefs, 
 Hold Conference with my Wife ? As for you, Minion, 
 I fhall hereafter treat. 
 
 Parthen* You're rude and faucy. 
 Nor know to whom you fpeak. 
 
 In Way ofTouth I did enj&y one Friend. 
 
 And in Sbakefpeare, Macbeth fays, 
 
 My Way of Life ii fallen into the Sere. 
 
 The Commentators on that Paffage, fuppofe that it mould be writ- 
 ten My May of Life ; but thefe PaiFages in Majfmger (hew, that it 
 was a Mode of KxprefiTon at the Time. M. M. 
 
 T 2
 
 276 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Lamia. This is fine, i'faith ! 
 Is fhc not my Wife ? 
 
 Partben. Your Wife ? But touch her, that Refpecl 
 forgotten 
 That's due to her whom mightiefl Cafar favours, 
 And think what 'tis to jciic. Not to lofe Time, 
 She's Cafar*s Choice: It is fufficient Honour 
 You were his Taller in this heav'nly Nectar ; 
 But now mull quit the OfHce. 
 
 Lamia. This is rare ! 
 Cannot a Man be Mailer of his Wife 
 Becaufe fhe's young, and fair, without a Patent? 
 I in my own Houfe am an Emperor, 
 
 And will defend what's mine,-^ where are my 
 
 Knaves ? 
 If fuch an Infolence efcape unpunifh'd- 
 
 Partben. In yourfelf La?nia, Cafar hath forgot 
 To ufe his Power, and I his Inllrument, 
 In whom, tho' abfent, his Authority fpeaks, 
 Have loll my Faculties. 
 
 [Stamps. 
 
 Enter a Centurion zvitb Soldiers. 
 
 Lamia. The Guard ! why, am I 
 Defign'd for Death ? 
 
 Domitia. As you defire my Favour, 
 Take not fo rough a Courfe. 
 
 Partben. All your Defires 
 Are abfolute Commands. Yet, give me Leave 
 To put the Will of Cafar into Acl. 
 Here's a Bill of Divorce between your Lordfhip 
 And this great Lady : If you refufe to fign it, 
 And fo as if you did it uneompell'd, 
 Won to it by Reafons that concern yourfelf, 
 Her Honour too untainted ; here are Clerks, 
 Shall in your bed Blood write it new, till Torture 
 Compel you to perform it.
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 277 
 
 Lamia. Is this legal ? 5 
 New Works that dare not do unlawful Things, 
 Yet bear them out, are Conftables, not Kings. 
 
 Parthen. Will you difpute ? 
 
 Lamia. I know not what to urge 
 Againft myfclf, but too much Dotage on her 
 Love and Obfervance. 
 
 Parthen. Set it under your Hand 
 That you are impotent, and cannot pay 
 The Duties of a Hufband ; or, that you are mad 
 (Rather than want juft Caufe, we'll make you fo). 
 Difpatch, you know the Danger elfe ; and deliver it; 
 Nay, on your Knee. Madam, you now are free, 
 And Miftrefsof yourfelf. 
 
 Lamia. Can you, Domitia, 
 Content to this ? 
 
 Domitia. 'Twould argue a bafe Mind 
 To live a Servant, when I may command. 
 I now am Cafars, and yet, in Refpedt 
 I once was yours, when you come to the Palace, 
 (Provided you deferve it in your Service) 
 You mall find me your good Miltrels. Wait me, 
 
 Parthenius, 
 And now farewel, poor Lamia. [Exeunt all but Lamia. 
 
 Lamia. To the Gods 
 I bend my Knees, (for Tyranny hath banifh'd 
 
 5 Lamia. Is this legal? 
 NtivIVorks, &c. 
 
 I confidered this Paflage for fome Time as irretrievable, for there 
 is a Milrake not only in the Words, but in the Perfon alio to whom 
 thev are attributed. 
 
 Lamia % Speech fliould end at legal, the two following Lines are 
 Pait of that of Parthenius, and mult be posted thus 
 
 Monarchs who dart not Jo unlawful Things, 
 Yet bear them out, arc Ccnjlabics, not Kings. 
 
 In Anfwer to the violent Threats of Parthenius, Lam<a jifks whe- 
 ther what he threatened was legal Parthenius replies that he could 
 not be confidered as a King, who had not fufheient Power to do un- 
 lawful Ads, and to bear them out though unlawful. M. Af. 
 
 r 3
 
 278 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Juftice from Men) and as they would dcferve 
 
 Their Altars, and our Vows, humbly invoke 'em 
 
 That this my raviih'd Wife may prove as fatal 
 
 To proud Domitian, and her Embraces 
 
 Afford him in the End as little Joy, 
 
 As wanton Helen brought to him of Troy, [Exit, 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 The Senate, 
 
 Enter Liftors, Aretinus, Fulcinius, Rufticus, Sura, 
 Paris, Latinus, and JEfopus. 
 
 Aret, Fathers Confcript ! may this our Meeting be 
 Happy to Co: far and the Common Wealth. 
 
 Lift, Silence ! 
 
 Aret, The Purpofe of this frequent Senate 
 Is, firft, to give Thanks to the Gods of Rome, 
 That, for the Propagation of the Empire, 
 Vouchfafe us one to govern it, like themfelves, 
 In Height of Courage, Depth of Underftanding, 
 And all thofe Virtues., and remarkable Graces, 
 Which make a Prince moft eminent ; our Domitian 
 Tranfccnds the ancient Romans, I can never 
 Bring his Praife to a Period. W T hat good Man 
 That is a Friend to Truth, dares make it doubtful, 
 That he hath Fabius' Staidnefs, and the Courage 
 Of bold Marcellus, to whom Hanibal gave 
 The Stile of Target and the Sword of Rome, 
 But he has more, and every Touch more Roman ; 
 As Pompefs Dignity, Augujlus 1 State, 
 ^Antony's Bounty, and great Julius* Fortune, 
 With Cato's Resolution. I am loft 
 In th' Ocean of his Virtues. In a Word, 
 All Excellencies of good Men meet in him, 
 But no Part of their Vices, 
 
 Ruft, This is no Flattery ! \Afide, 
 
 &tr. Take heed, you'll be obferv'd, l^Jide,
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 2 79 
 
 Aret. 'Tis then moft lit 
 That we, as to the Father 6 of our Country, 
 Like thankful Sons, ftand bound to pay true Service 
 For all thofe Bleffings that he fhow'rs upon us, 
 Should not connive, and fee his Government, 
 Deprav'd and fcandaliz'd by meaner Men, 
 That to his Favour and Indulgence owe 
 Themfelves and Being. 
 
 Paris. Now he points at us. 
 
 Aret. Cite Paris the Tragedian. 
 
 Paris. Here. 
 
 Aret. Stand forth. 
 In thee, as being the Chief of thy Profeflion, 
 I do accufe the Quality 7 of Treafon, 
 As Libellers againft the State and Cafar. 
 
 Paris. Meer Accufations are not Proofs, my Lord ; 
 In what are we Delinquents ? 
 
 Aret. You are they 
 That fearch into the Secrets of the Time, 
 And, under feign'd Names, on the Stage, prefent 
 Actions not to be touch'd at ; and traduce 
 Perfons of Rank and Quality of both Sexes, 
 And with fatyrical and bitter Jefts 
 Make ev'n the Senators ridiculous 
 To the Plebeians. 
 
 Paris. If I free not myfelf, 
 (And, in myfelf, the reft of my Profeflion) 
 From thefe falfe Imputations, and prove 
 That they make that a Libel which the Poet 
 Writ for a Comedy, fo acted too, 
 It is but Juftice that we undergo 
 The heavieft Cenfure. 
 
 Aret. Are you on the Stage, 
 You talk fo boldly ? 
 
 6 That ive t as to the Father, ice. 
 We fliould certainly read who inflead of as. M. M. 
 7 That is, the whole Fraternity. M. M. 
 
 T 4
 
 *8o THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Paris. The whole World being one, 8 
 This Place is not exempted; and I am 
 So confident in the Juftice of our Caufe, 
 That I could wifh Cafar, in whefe great Name 
 All Kings are comprehended, fat as Judge, 
 To hear our Plea, and then determine of us. 
 If, to exprefs a Man fold to his Lufts, 
 Waiting the Treafure of his Time and Fortunes 
 In wanton Dalliance, and to what fad End 
 A Wretch that's fo given over does arrive at, 
 Deterring carelefs Youth, by his Example, 
 From fuch licentious Courfes ; laying open 
 The Snares of Bawds, and the confuming Arts 
 Of prodigal Strumpets, can deferve Reproof, 
 W T hy are not all your golden Principles, 
 Writ down by grave Philofophcrs to initruct us 
 To choofe fair Virtue for our Guide, not Pleafure, 
 Condemn'd unto the Fire ? 
 
 Sura. There's Spirit in this ! 
 
 Paris. Or if Deflre of Honour was the Bafe 
 On which the Building of the Roman Empire 
 Was rais'd up to this Height ; if, to inflame 
 The Noble Youth with an ambitious Heat 
 T' endure the Frolls of Danger, nay of Death ; 
 To be thought worthy the triumphal Wreath 
 By glorious Undertakings, may deferve 
 Reward, or Favour from the Common-wealth, 
 Actors may put in for as large a Share 
 As all the Seels of the Philolbphers ; 
 They with cold Precepts (perhaps feldom read) 
 Deliver, what an honourable Thing 
 The a&ive Virtue is. But does that fire 
 The Blood, or fwell the Veins with Emulation i 
 To be both good and great, equal to that 
 
 fcf" 8 The ivhole World being one 
 This Place is not exempted, &c. 
 
 This and the fucceeding Speeches of Paris are a fine Piece of 
 Oratory, an excellent Defence for the Stage, and written with ^reat 
 Spirit and Energy.
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 2 8i 
 
 Which is prefented on our Theatres ? 
 Let a good Adtor in a lofty Scene 
 Shew great Alcides honour'd in the Sweat 
 Of his twelve Labours ; or a bold Camillas, 
 Forbidding Rome to be redeem 'd with Gold 
 From the infulting Gauls; or Scipio, 
 After his Victories, impofing Tribute 
 On conquer'a Carthage, If done to the Life, 
 As if they law their Dangers, and their Glories, 
 And did partake with them in their Rewards, 
 All that have any Spark of Roman in them, 
 The flothful Arts laid by, contend to be 
 Like thofe they fee prefented. 
 
 Ruft. He has put 
 The Confuls to their Whifper. 
 
 Paris. But 'tis urg'd 
 That we corrupt Youth, and traduce Superiors; 
 When do we bring a Vice upon the Stage, 
 That does go off unpunilh'd ? Do we teach, 
 By the Succefs of wicked Undertakings 
 Others to tread in their forbidden Steps ? 
 We mew no Arts of hydian Pandarifm, 
 Corinthian Poifons, Rerfian Flatteries, 
 But mulcted fo in the Conclufion, that 
 Ev'n thofe Spectators that were fo inclin'd 
 Go home chang'd Men. And, for traducing fuch 
 That are above us, publifhing to the World 
 Their fecret Crimes, we are as innocent 
 As fuch as are born dumb. When we prefent 
 An Heir, that docs confpire againfl the Life 
 Of his dear Parent, numb'ring every Hour 
 He lives, as tedious to him, if there be 
 Among the Auditors one whofe Confcience tells him 
 He is of the fame Mould we cannot help it. 
 Or, bringing on the Stage a loofe Adultereis, 
 That does maintain the riotous Expence 
 Of him that feeds her greedy Luft, yet fuffcrs 
 The lawful Pledges of a former Bed 
 To ftarve the while for Hunger ; if a Matron, 
 However great in Fortune, Birth, or Titles,
 
 282 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Guilty of fuch a foul unnatural Sin, 
 
 Cry out, 'tis writ for me we cannot help it : 
 
 Or, when a covetous Man's exprefs'd, whofe Wealth 
 
 Arithmetick cannot number, and whofe Lordfhips 
 
 A Falcon in one Day cannot fly over ; 
 
 Yet he fo fordid in his Mind, fo griping 
 
 As not to afford himfelf the Neceffaries 
 
 To maintain Life ; if a Patrician, 
 
 (Tho' honour'd with a Confulfhip) find himfelf 
 
 Touch'd to the quick in this we cannot help it; 
 
 Or, when we fhow a Judge that is corrupt, 
 
 And will give up his Sentence, as he favours 
 
 The Perfon, not the Caufe, faving the Guilty, 
 
 If of his Faction, and as oft condemning 
 
 The innocent out of particular Spleen j 
 
 If any in this reverend Aflembly, 
 
 Nay, ev'n yourfelf, my Lord, that are the Image 
 
 Of abfent Cafar, feel fomething in your Bofom 
 
 That puts you in Remembrance of Things paft, 
 
 Or Things intended 'tis not in us to help it. 
 
 I've faid, my Lord ; and now, as you find Caufe, 
 
 Or cenfure us, or free us with Applaufe. 
 
 hat. Well pleaded, on my Lire j I never faw him 
 Act an Orator's Part before, 
 
 jEfop, We might have given 
 Ten double Fees to Regulus, 9 and yet 
 Our Caufe deliver'd worfe, \A Shout zvithiiu 
 
 Enter Parthenius. 
 
 Aret, What Shout is that ? 
 
 Parthen. Cafar, our Lord, married to Conqueft, is 
 Retum'd in Triumph. 
 
 Fulcin. Let's all hafle to meet him. 
 
 Aret. Break up the Court; we will referve to him 
 The Cenfure of this Caufe. 
 
 All. Long Life to Cafar ! [Exeunt omnes. 
 
 9 Regulus, Sec. 
 A celebrated Roman Pleader in the Times of Domhian, Nerva^ and 
 Trajan. His, Character may be feen at large in Pihy's Epijlks. D.
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 383 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 Tbe Capitol. 
 Enter Julia, Csenis, Domitilla, and Domitia. 
 
 Cents, Stand back the Place is mine. 
 
 Julia. Yours ? Am I not 
 Great Titus' Daughter, and Dominant* Niece ? 
 Dares any claim Precedence ? 
 
 Cenis. I was more, 
 The Miftrefs of your Father, and in his Right 
 Claim Duty from ycy. 
 
 Julia. I confefs you were ufeful 
 To pleafe his Appetite. 
 
 Domitia. To end the Controverfy, 
 For I'll have no contending, I'll be bold 
 To lead the Way myfelf. 
 
 DomitiUa. You, Minion ! 
 
 Domitia. Yes, 
 And all, ere long, fhall kneel to catch my Favours. 
 
 Julia. Whence fprings this Flood of Greatnefs ? 
 
 Domitia. You fhall know 
 Too foon for your Vexation, and perhaps 
 Repenr too late, and pine with Envy, when 
 You fee whom Qefar favours. 
 
 Julia. Obferve the Sequel. 
 
 Enter at one Door Captains with Laurels, Domitian, in 
 his Triumphant Chariot, Parthenius, Paris, Latinus, 
 and .fopus, met by Aretinus, Sura, Lamia, Rufticus, 
 Fulcinius, and Prifoners led by him* 
 
 Cef. As we now touch the Height of human Glory, 
 Riding in Triumph to the Capitol, 
 Let thefe whom this victorious Arm hath made 
 The Scorn of Fortune, and the Slaves of Rome, 
 Tafte the Extremes of Mifery. Bear them off
 
 284 THEROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 To the common Prifons, and there let them prove 
 How fharp our Axes are. 
 
 Rujl, A bloody Entrance ! [A/Me. 
 
 Caf. To tell you you are happy in your Prince, 
 Were to diftruft your Love, or my Defcrt ; 
 And either were diftaftcful. Or to boaft 
 How much, not by my Deputies, but myfelf, 
 I have enlarg'd the Empire ; or what Horrors 
 The Soldier in our Conduct hath broke thro', 
 Would better fuit the Mouth of Plautus' Braggart, 
 Than the adored Monarch of the World. 
 
 Sura, This is no Boaft ! [_Afide % 
 
 Caf, When I but name the Daci, 
 And grey-ey'd Germans, whom I have fubdu'd, 
 The Ghoft of Julius will look pale with Envy, 
 And great Vefpafian'% and Titus' Triumph, 
 (Truth mull: take Place of Father and of Brother :) 
 Will be no more remember'd. I'm above 
 All Honours you can give me ; and the Stile 
 Of Lord, and God, which thankful Subjects give mc 
 (Not my Ambition) is deferv'd, 
 
 Aret, At all Parts 
 Celeflial Sacrifice is fit for Ccejar, 
 In our Acknowledgments. 
 Caf, Thanks, Aretinus ; 
 Still hold our Favour. Now, the God of War, 
 And Famine, Blood, and Death, Belbna's Pages, 
 Banifh'd from Rome to Thrace in our good Fortune, 
 With Juftice he may tafle the Fruits of Peace, 
 Whofe Sword hath plough 'd the Ground, and reap'd 
 
 the Harveft 
 Of your Profperity. Nor can I think 
 That there is one among you fo ungrateful, 
 Or fuch an Enemy to thriving Virtue, 
 That can efteem the Jewel he holds deareft 
 Too good for Qe jar's Ufe. 
 Sura, All we poflefs. 
 Lamia, Our Liberties. 
 Fulcin, pur Children. 
 Rartken* Wealth.
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 285 
 
 Arel. And Throats 
 Fall willingly beneath his Feet. 
 
 Rujl. Bale Flattery! 
 What Roman could endure this ? [Afide. 
 
 Cef This calls on 
 My Love to all, which fpreads itfelf among you, 
 The Beauties of the Time. Receive the Honour 
 To kifs the Hand which, rear'd up thus, holds Thun- 
 der ; 
 To you 'tis an Aflurance of a Calm. 
 Julia, my Niece, and Cents, the Delight 
 Of old Vefpafian ! Domitilla too 
 A Princefs of our Blood ! 
 
 Ri/ft. Tis flrange his Pride 
 Affords no greater Courtefy to Ladies 
 Of fuch high Birth and Rank. 
 
 Sura. Your Wife's forgotten. 
 
 Lamia. No, lhe will be remember'd, fear it not; 
 She will be grac'd and greas'd. 
 
 Cef. But, when I look on 
 Divine Domitia, methinks we mould meet 
 (The leffer Gods applauding the Encounter) 
 As Jupiter, the Giants lying dead 
 On the Phlegraan Plain, embrac'd his Juno. 
 Lamia, 'tis your Honour that Ihe's mine. 
 
 Lamia. You are too great to be gainfaid. 
 
 Cef. Let all 
 That fear our Frown, or do affect our Favour, 
 Without examining the Reafon why, 
 Salute her (by this Kifs I make it good) 
 With the Title of Augifia. 
 
 Domitia. Still your Servant. 
 
 All. Long live Augufia, great Domitian's Emprefs ! 
 
 Cef, Paris, my Hand. 
 
 Paris. The Gods ftill honour Cefar. 
 
 Caf. The Wars are ended, and, our Arms laid by, 
 We are for foft Delights. Command the Poets 
 To ufe their choicefl and moft rare Invention, 
 To entertain the Time, and be you careful 
 To give it Action : we'll provide the People
 
 i$6 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Pleafures of all Kinds. My Domitia think not 
 
 I flatter, though thus fond. On to the Capitol, 
 
 Tis Death to him that wears a fullen Brow. 
 
 This 'tis to be a Monarch, when alone 
 
 He can command all, but is aw'd by none. {Exeunt* 
 
 End of the Firjl M< 
 
 ACT IL S C E N E t 
 
 Scene a Chamber. 
 
 inter Philargus and Parthenius. 
 
 Pbikr. 1i Jf Y Son to tutor me ! Know your Obe* 
 
 J.VX dierice, 
 And queftion not my Will. 
 
 Partben. Sir, were I one, 
 Whom Want compell'd to wifh a full FofTemon 
 Of what is yours ; or had I ever number'd 
 Your Years* or thought you liv'd too long, with Reafoff 
 You then might nourifh ill Opinions of me : 
 Or did the Suit that I prefer to you 
 Concern myfelf, and aim'd not at your Good, 
 You might deny, and I lit down with Patience, 
 And after never prefs you. 
 
 Philar. V th' Name of Pluto 
 What would'ft thou have me do ? 
 
 Par then. Right to yourfelf ; 
 Or fuffer me to do it. Can you imagine 
 This nafty Hat, this tatter'd Cloak, rent Shoe, 
 This fordid Linen, can become the Maimer 
 Of your fair Fortunes ? whofe fuperfluous Means 
 (Tho* I were burthenfome) could clothe you in, 
 The coftlieft Perfian Silks, fludded with Jewels, 
 The Spoils of Provinces, and every Day 
 Frefh Change of Tyrian Purple.
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 287 
 
 Philar. Out upon thee ! 
 My Monies in my Coffers melt to hear thee. 
 Purple ! hence Prodigal ! fhall I make my Mercer 
 Or Taylor my Heir, or fee my Jeweller purchaie ? 
 No, I hate Pride. 
 
 Parthen. Yet Decency would do well. 
 Tho' for your Outfide you will not be alter'd, 
 Let me prevail fo far yet, as to win you 
 Not to deny your Belly Nourifhment ; 
 Neither to think you've feafted when 'tis cramm'd 
 with mouldy Barley-bread, Onions, and Leeks, 
 And, the Drink of Bondmen, Water. 
 
 Philar, Would'ft thou have me 
 Be an Apkius, or a Lucidlus, 
 And riot out my 'State in curious Sauces ? 
 Wife Nature with a little is contented ; 
 And, following her, my Guide, I cannot err. 
 
 Par then. But you deftroy her in your Want of Care 
 (I blufh to fee, and fpeak it) to maintain her 
 In perfect Health and Vigour, when you fuffer 
 ( Frighted with the Charge of Phyfick) Rheums, Catarrhs, 
 The Scurf, Ach in your Bones, to grow upon you, 
 And haften on your Fate with too much fparing ; 
 When a cheap Purge, a Vomit and good Diet 
 May lengthen it ; give me but Leave to fend 
 The Emperor's Dodtor to you. 
 
 Philar. I'll be borne firfl 
 Half rotten to the Fire that muft confume me ! 
 His Pills, his Cordials, his Electuaries, 
 His Syrups, Julips, Bezoar Stone, nor his 
 Imagin'd Unicorn's Horn comes in my Belly ; 
 My Mouth fhall be a Draught IO firft, 'tis reiblv'd. 
 No ; I'll not leflen my dear golden Heap, 
 Which, every Hour increafing, does renew 
 My Youth, and Vigour ; but, if lefTen'd, then 
 Then my poor Heart-firings crack. Let me enjoy it, 
 And brood o'er't while I live, it being my Life, 
 My Soul, my All. But when I turn to Duft, 
 
 " That is a Sink or Drain. M. M.
 
 288 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 And part from what is more efteem'd by me 
 
 Than all the Gods Rome's thoufand Altars fmoke to, 
 
 Inherit thou my Adoration of it, 
 
 And, like me, ferve my Idol. [Exit Philargus. 
 
 Parthen. What a ftrange Torture 
 Is Avarice to itfelf ! what Man that looks on 
 Such a penurious Spedtacle, but muft 
 Know what the Fable meant of Tantalus, 
 Or th' Afs whofe Back is crack'd with curious Viands 
 Yet feeds on Thiflles. Some Courfe I muft take, 
 To make my Father know what Cruelty 
 He ufes on himfelf. 
 
 Enter Paris. 
 
 Paris, Sir, with your Pardon, 
 I make bold to enquire the Emptor's Pleafure, 
 For, being by him commanded to attend, 
 Your Favour may inflrucl: us what's his Will 
 Shall be this Night prefented. 
 
 Parthen. My lov'd Paris, 
 Without my IntercefHon you well know 
 You may make your own Approaches, fince his Ear 
 To you is ever open. 
 
 Paris, I acknowledge 
 His Clemency to my Weaknefs, and, if ever 
 I do abufe it, Lightning ftrike me dead. 
 The Grace he pleafes to confer upon me 
 (Without Boaft I may fay fo much) was never 
 "Employ'd to wrong the Innocent, or to incenfe 
 His Fury. 
 
 Parthen, 'Tis confefs'd, many Men owe you 
 For Provinces they ne'er hop'd for ; and their Live* 
 Forfeited to his Anger you being abfent 
 I could fay more 
 
 Paris, You ftill are my good Patron ; 
 And, lay it in my Fortune to deferve it, 
 You mould perceive the pooreft of your Clients 
 To his beft Abilities thankful.
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 289 
 
 Farther*. I believe fo. 
 Met you my Father ? 
 
 Penis. Yes, Sir ; with much Grief, 
 To fee him as he is. Can nothing work him 
 To be himfelf? 
 
 Parthen. O Paris, 'tis a Weight 
 Sits heavy here, and could this Right-hand's Lofs 
 Remove it, it mould off; but he is deaf 
 To all Perfuafion. 
 
 Paris. Sir, with your Pardon, 
 I'll offer my Advice : I once obferv'd 9 
 In a Tragedy of ours, in which a Murther 
 Was acted to the Life, a guilty Hearer, 
 Forc'd by the Terror of a wounded Confcience, 
 To make Difcovery* of that, which Torture 
 Could not wring from him. Nor can it appear 
 Like an Impoffibility, but that 
 Your Father, looking on a covetous Man 
 Prefented on the Stage, as in a Mirror, 
 May fee his own Deformity and loathe it. 
 Now, could you but perfuade the Emperor 
 To fee a Comedy we have, that's ftil'd 
 The Cure of Avarice, and to command 
 Your Father to be a Spectator of it, 
 He mail be fo anatomiz'd in the Scene, 
 And fee himfelf fo perfonated ; the Bafenefs 
 Of a felf-torturing miferable Wretch 
 
 C^T 1 1 / once elfefv*J 
 
 In a Tragedy of ours, &c. 
 
 In Hamlet there is a PafTage like this, which Majfinger feemg to have 
 copied. 
 
 I've heard, that guilty Creatures at a Play 
 Have, by the very Cunning of the Scene, 
 Been ftruck fo to the Soul, that prefently 
 They have proclaim'd their Malefactions: 
 For Murder, tho' it have no Tongue, will fpeak 
 With moft rjiiraculous Organ. 
 
 A& II. the lad Scene, ' 
 U
 
 290 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Truly dcfcrib'd, that I much hope the Object 
 Will work Compunction in him. 
 
 Farthen. There's your Fee, 
 I ne'er bought better Counfel. Be you in readinefs, 
 I will effect the reft. 
 
 Paris* Sir, when you pleafe, 
 We'll be prepar'd to enter. Sir, the Emperor. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II. fbt Palace. 
 Enter C&'far, Aretinus, and Guard. 
 
 Qef. Repine at us ? 
 
 Aret. 'Tis more, or my Informers, 
 That keep ftrict Watch upon him, are deceiv'd 
 In their Intelligence ; there is a Lift 
 Of Malecontents, as Junius Rujlicus, 
 Palphurius Sura, and this JElius Lamia, 
 That murmur at your Triumphs as meer Pageants ; 
 And at their Midnight Meetings tax your Juftice 
 (For fo I ftyle what they call Tyranny) 
 For P<etus Thrafea's Death, as if in him 
 Virtue herfelf were murther'd ; nor forget they 
 Agricola, who, for his Service done 
 In" the reducing Brittany to Obedience, 
 They dare affirm to be remov'd with Poifon ; 
 And he compell'd to write you a Coheir 
 With his Daughter, that his Teftament might ftand, 
 Which elfe you had made void. Then your much Love 
 To Julia, your Niece, cenfur'd as Inceft, 
 And done in Scorn of Titus, your dead Brother : 
 But the Divorce Lamia was forc'd to fign 
 To her, you honour with Augujla's Title, 
 Being only nam'd, they do conclude there was 
 A Lucrece once, a Collatine, and a Brutus; 
 But nothing Roman left now but in you, 
 The Luft of Tarquin. 
 
 Caf. Yes, his Fire, and Scorn 
 Of fuch as think that our unlimited Power 
 Can be confin'd. Dares Lamia pretend
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. a 9I 
 
 An Intereft to that which I call mine ? 
 
 Or but remember, Ihe was ever his 
 
 That's now in our Pofleffion ? Fetch him hither. 
 
 [The Guards go off*. 
 I'll give him Caufe to wifh he rather had 
 Forgot his own Name, than e'er mention'd hers. 
 Shall we be circumfcrib'd ? Let fuch as cannot 
 By Force make good their Actions, tho' wicked, 
 Conceal, excufe, or qualify their Crimes : 
 What our Defires grant Leave and Privilege to, 
 Tho' contradicting all Divine Decrees, 
 Or Laws confirm'd by Romulus and Numa, 
 Shall be held facred. 
 
 Aret. You Ihould, elfe, take from 
 The Dignity of Qefar*. 
 
 Caf. Am I Matter 
 Of two and thirty Legions, that awe 
 All Nations of the triumphed World, 
 Yet tremble at our Frown, to yield an Account 
 Of what's our Pleafure to a private Man ? 
 Rome perifti firit and Atlas' Shoulders fhririk ; 
 Heav'ns Fabrick fall ; the Sun, the Moonj the Stars 
 Loling their Light and comfortable Heat, 
 Ere I confefs, that any Fault of mine 
 May be difputed. 
 
 Aret. So you preferve your Power, 
 As you Ihould equal, and omnipotent here, 
 With Jupiter 's above* 
 
 Enter Parthenius* 
 
 [He kneels and whijpers to Csefar* 
 
 Cef. Thy Suit is granted, 
 Whate'er it be, Parthenius, for thy Service 
 Done to Augujla. Only fo ) A Trifle : 
 Command him hither. If the Comedy fail 
 To cure him, I will minifter fomething to him 
 
 U 2
 
 292 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 That mall inftruct him to forget his Gold, 
 And think upon himfelf. 
 
 Par then. May it fuccecd well, 
 Since my Intents are pious. [Exit Parthenius 
 
 C<ef. We arc refolv'd 
 What Courfe to take ; and therefore, Aretinus, 
 Enquire no further. Go you to my Emprefs, 
 And fay, I do entreat (for flie rules him 
 Whom all Men elfe obey) Ihe would vouchfafe 
 The Mufick of her Voice, at yonder Window, 
 When I advance my Hand, thus. I will blend 
 
 [Exit Aretinus.. 
 My Cruelty with fome Scorn, or elfe 'tis loft. 
 Revenge, when it is unexpected, falling 
 With greater Violence, and Hate, clothed in Smiles, 
 Strikes, and with Horror, dead the Wretch that comes 
 
 not 
 Prepaid to meet it. 
 
 Enter Lamia with the Guard* 
 
 Our good Lamia, welcome. 
 
 So much we owe you for a Benefit 
 
 With Willingnefs on your Part conferr'd upon us r 
 
 That 'tis our Study, we that would not live 
 
 Engag'd to any for a Courtefy, 
 
 How to return it. 
 
 Lamia. 'Tis beneath your Fate 
 To be oblig'd,. that in your own Hand grafp 
 The Means to be magnificent. 
 
 Gef. Well put off; 
 But yet it muft not do : The Empire, Lamia, 
 Divided equally, can hold no Weight, 
 If ballanc'd with your Gift in fair Domitia. 
 You that could part with all Delights at once, 
 The Magazine of rich Pleafurcs being contain'd 
 In her Perfections, uncompell'd deliver'd, 
 As a Prefent fit for defer. In your Eyes 
 With Tears of Joy, not Sorrow, 'tis confirm'd 
 You glory in your Act.
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 293 
 
 Lamia. Derided too ! 
 
 Sir, this is more 
 
 Caf. More than I can requite; 
 It is acknowledg'd, Lamia. There's no Drop 
 Of melting Nectar I tafte from her Lip, 
 But yields a Touch of Immortality 
 To th' bleft Receiver ; every Grace and Feature, 
 Priz'd to the Worth bought at an eafy Rate, 
 If purchas'd for a Confulftiip, Her Difcourfe 
 So ravifhing, and her Action fo attractive, 
 That I would part with all my other Senfes 
 Provided I might ever fee, and hear her. 
 The Pleafures of her Bed I dare not truft 
 The Winds or Air with ; for that would draw down, 
 In Envy of my Happinefs, a War 
 From all the Gods upon me. 
 Lamia* Your Companion 
 To me, in your forbearing to infult 
 
 On my Calamity, which you make your Sport, 
 
 Would more appeafe thofe Gods you have provok'd 
 
 Than all the blafphemous Comparifons, 
 
 You ling unto her Praife. 
 Qef. I ling her Praife ? 
 
 'Tis far from my Ambition to hope it ; 
 
 It being a Debt fhe only can lay down, 
 
 And no Tongue elfe discharge. 
 
 [Mufick above, and a Song. 
 
 Hark ! I think, prompted 
 
 With my Confent that you once more fhould hear her, 
 
 She does begin. -An univerfal Silence 
 
 Dwell on this Place ! 'Tis Death with, lingering 
 Torments 
 
 To all that dare difturb her. Who can hear this, 
 
 And falls not down and worfhip ? In my Fancy, 
 
 Jpollo being Judge, on Latmos Hill, 
 
 Fair-hair'd Calliope on her Ivory Lute 
 
 (But fomething ftiort of this) fung Ceres* Praifes, 
 
 And grifly Pluto's Rape on Proferpine. 
 
 The Motions of the Spheres are out of Tune 
 
 V 3
 
 294 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Her mufical Notes but heard. Say, Lamia, fay,- 
 Is not her Voice angelical ? 
 
 Lamia. To your Ear : 
 But I, alas ! am filent, 
 
 Caf. Be Co ever, 
 That without Admiration canft. hear her. 
 Malice to my Felicity ftrikes thee dumb, 
 And, in thy Hope, or Wifh, to repoffefs 
 What I love more than Empire, I pronounce thee 
 Guilty of Treafon. Off with his Head. Do you 
 
 flare ? 
 By her that is my Patronefs, Minerva, 
 (Whofe Statue I adore of all the Gods) 
 If he but live to make Reply, thy Life 
 Shall anfwer it. 
 
 [The Guards lead off Lamia, flopping his Mouth* 
 My Fears of him are freed now ; 
 And he that liv'd to upbraid me with my Wrong, 
 For an Offence he never could imagine, 
 In Wantonnefs remov'd. Defcend, my deareft. 
 Plurality of Hufbands fhall no more 
 Breed Doubts or Jealouiies in you. 'Tis difpatch'd, 
 And with as little Trouble here, as if 
 I had kill'd a Fly. 
 
 Enter Domitia, uJJjered in by Aretinus, her Train with all 
 State borne up by Julia, Csenis and Domitilla. 
 
 Now you appear, and in 
 That Glory you deferve, and thefe that (loop 
 To do you Service, in the Act much honour'd. 
 Julia, forget that Titus was thy Father ; 
 Cams and Domitilla ne'er remember 
 Sabinus or Vefpafian. To be Slaves 
 To her, is more true Liberty than to live 
 Parthian or AJian Queens. As leffer Stars, 
 That wait on Phoebe in her Full of Brightnefr, 
 Compar'd to her you are. Thus I feat you 
 By Cafar y s Side, commanding thefe, that once 
 Were the adored Glories of the Time,
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 295 
 
 To witnefs to the World they are your Vaffals, 
 At your Feet to attend you. 
 
 Domitia. 'Tis your Pleafure, 
 And not my Pride : And yet, when I confider 
 That I am yours, all Duties they can pay 
 I do receive as Circumftances due 
 To her you pleafe to honour. 
 
 Enter Parthenius with Philargus. 
 
 Parthen. Cafcr's Will 
 Commands yoa hither, nor muft you gainfay it, 
 
 P hilar. Lofe Time to fee an Interlude ? Muft I pay too 
 For my Vexation ? 
 
 Parthen. Not in the Court, 
 It is the Emperor's Charge. 
 
 Philar. I mall endure 
 My Torment then the better, 
 
 Ccef. Can it be 
 This fordid Thing, Parthenius, is thy Father ? 
 No Actor can exprefs him. I had held 
 The Fiction for impoflible in the Scene, 
 Had I not feen the Subftance. Sirrah, fit Hill, 
 And give Attention ; if you but nod, 
 You fleep for ever. Let them fpare the Prologue, 
 And all the Ceremonies proper to ourfelf, 
 And come to the laft Act there, where the Cure 
 By the Doctor is made perfect. The fwift Minutes 
 Seem Years to me, "Domitia^ that divorce thee 
 From my Embraces. My Deiires increafing 
 As they are fatisfied, all Pleafures elle 
 Are tedious as dull Sorrows. Kifs me again : 
 If I now wanted Heat of Youth, thefe Fires 
 In Priam's Veins would thaw his frozen Blood, 
 Enabling him to get a fccond Hettor 
 For the Defence of Troy. 
 
 Domitia. You are wanton ! 
 Pray you, forbear. Let me fee the Plav % 
 
 Caf. Begin there. 
 
 U 4 _
 
 296 THE ROMAN ACTOR, 
 
 Enter Paris, like a Dotlor of Phyfuk, iEfopus, Latinu$ 
 brought forth ajleep in a Chair, a Key in his Mouth. 
 
 JEfop. O Matter Doctor, he is paft Recovery \ 
 A Lethargy hath feiz'd him : And, however 
 His Sleep refemble Death, his watchful Care 
 To guard that Treafure he dares makes no Ule of. 
 Works ltrongly in his Soul. 
 
 Paris. What's that he holds 
 So faft between his Teeth ? 
 
 sEfip. The Key that opens 
 His Iron Chefls, crammd'with accurfed Gold> 
 Rufly with long Imprifonment. There's no Duty 
 In me his Son, nor Confidence in Friends, 
 That can perfuade him to deliver up 
 That to the Truft of any. 
 
 Philar. He is the wifer ; 
 We were fafhion'd in one Mould. 
 
 JEfop. He eats with it ; 
 And, when Devotion calls him to the Temple 
 Of Mammon, whom of all the Gods he kneels to, 
 That held thus ftill, his Orifons are paid ; 
 Nor will he, tho' the Wealth of Rome were pawn'cj 
 For the refloring of it, for one fhort Hour 
 Be won to part with it. 
 
 Philar, Still, ftillmyfelf: 
 And if, like me, he lov'd his Gold, no Pawn 
 Is good Security. 
 
 Paris. I'll try if I can force it. 
 
 It will not be. His avaricious Mind 
 
 (Like Men in Rivers drown'd) makes him gripe faft 5 
 
 To his laft Gafp, what he in Life held deareft, 
 
 And, if that were poffible in Nature, 
 
 Would carry it with him to the other World. 
 
 Philar. As I would do ; to Hell rather than leave it, 
 
 JEfop. Is he not dead > 
 
 Paris. Long fince, to all good Actions, 
 Or to himfelf, or others, for which wife Men 
 Defire to live. You may with Safety pinch him,
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 2o7 
 
 Or under his Nails ftick Needles, yet he ftirs not; 
 
 Anxious Fear to lofe what his Soul doats on, 
 
 Renders his Flelh infenfible. We muft ufe 
 
 Some Means to rouze the fleeping Faculties 
 
 Of his Mind ; there lies the Lethargy. Take a Trumr 
 
 pet, 
 And blow it into his Ears, 'tis to no Purpofe; 
 The roaring Noife of Thunder cannot wake him : 
 And yet defpair not ; I have one Trick left. 
 
 JEfop. What is it ? 
 
 Parts* I will caufe a fearful Dream 
 To fleal into his Fancy, and difturb it 
 With th' Horror it brings with it, and fo free 
 His Body's Organs. 
 
 Domitia. 'Tis a cunning Fellow ; 
 If he were a Doctor, as the Play fays, 
 He mould be fworn my Servant, govern my Slumbers, 
 And minifler to me waking. 
 
 Paris. If this fail, \A Cheft brought in* 
 
 I'll give him o'er. So with all Violence 
 Rend ope this Iron Chefl ; for here his Life lies 
 Bound up in Fetters, and in the Defence 
 Of what he values higher, 'twill return, 
 And fill each Vein and Artery Louder yet. 
 Tis open, and already he begins 
 To ftir, mark with what Trouble. 
 
 [YaXmus Jlretches himfelf. 
 
 P hilar. As you are Cafar f 
 Defend this honeft thrifty Man ; they're Thieves* 
 And come to rob him. 
 
 Part hen Peace ! the Emperor frowns. 
 
 Paris. So, now pour out the Bags upon the Table, 
 Remove his Jewels and his Bonds again ; 
 Ring a fecond golden Peal, his Eyes are open : 
 He flares as he had feen Medufa's Head, 
 And were turn'd Marble. Once more. 
 
 Lat. Murder, Murder, 
 They come to murder me. My Son in the Plot ? 
 Thou worfe than Parricide ! if it be Death 
 fo ftrike thy Father's Body, can all Tortures,
 
 298 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 The Furies in Hell practife, be fufficient 
 
 For thee that doll afiaflinate my Soul ? 
 
 My Gold ! my Bonds ! my Jewels ! doft thou envy 
 
 My glad Pofieflion of them for a Day ? 
 
 Extinguifhing the Taper of my Life 
 
 Confum'd unto the Snuff? 
 
 Paris. Seem not to mind him, 
 
 Lat. Have I, to leave thee rich, deny'd myfclf 
 The Joys of human Being ? Scrap'd and hoarded 
 A Mafs of Treafure, which, had Solon feen, 
 The Lydian Crcefus had appear'd to him 
 Poor as the Beggar Irus : And yet I, 
 Solicitous to increafe it, when my Entrails 
 Were clamm'd with keeping a perpetual Faft, 
 Was deaf to their loud windy Cries, as fearing, 
 Should I difburfe one Penny to their Ufe, 
 My Heir might curfe me : And, to fave Expence 
 In outward Ornaments, I did expofe 
 My naked Body to the Winter's Cold, 
 And Summer's fcorching Heat. Nay, when Difeafea 
 Grew thick upon me, and a little Coft 
 Had purchas'dmy Recovery, I chofe rather 
 To have my Afhes clos'd up in my Urn, 
 By hailing on my Fate, than to diminifh 
 The Gold my prodigal Son while I am living, 
 Carelefsly fcatters. 
 
 Mfop. Would you difpatch and die at once, 
 Your Ghoft mould feel in Hell, that is my Slave 
 Which was your Mailer. 
 
 Philar. Out upon thee, Varlet ! 
 
 Paris. And what then follows all your Carke and 
 Caring, 
 And Self-affli<tion, when your flarv'd Trunk is 
 Turn'd to forgotten Duft ? This hopeful Youth 
 Urines upon your Monument, ne'er rememb'ring 
 How much for him you fuffer'd ; and then tells 
 To the Companions of his Lulls and Riots, 
 The Hell you did endure on Earth, to leave him 
 Large Means to be an Epicure, and to feaft 
 His Senfes all at once, a Happinefs
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 299 
 
 You never granted to yourfelf, your Gold then 
 (Got with Vexation, and preferv'd with Trouble) 
 Maintains the publick Stews, Panders and Ruffians, 
 That quaff Damnation to your Memory, 
 For living fo long here. 
 hat. It will be fo, I fee it. 
 
 ! that I could redeem the Time that's paft, 
 
 1 would live, and die like myfelf ; and make true Ufc 
 Of what my Induflry purchas'd. 
 
 Paris. Covetous Men, 
 Having one Foot in the Grave, lament fo ever : 
 But grant that I by Art could yet recover 
 Your defperate Sicknefs, lengthen out your Life 
 A dozen of Years, as Ireftore your Body 
 To perfect Health, will you with Care endeavour 
 To rectify your Mind ? 
 
 Lat. I fhould fo live then, 
 As neither my Heir fhould have juft Caufe to think 
 I liv'd too long, for being clofe-handed to him, 
 Or cruel to myfelf. 
 
 Paris. Have your Defires ; 
 Phoebus affifting me, I will repair 
 The ruin'd Building of your Health : And think not 
 You have a Son that hates you ; the Truth is, 
 This Means with his Confent I practis'd on you 
 To this good End, it being a Device, 
 In you to mew the Cure of Avarice. 
 
 [Exeunt Paris, Latinus, and informs. 
 
 Philar. An old Fool, to be gull'd thus ! had he died, 
 As I refolv'd to do, not to be alter'd, 
 It had gone oft' twanging. 
 
 Caf. How approve you, Sweeteft, 
 Of the Matter and the Actors ? 
 
 Domitia. For the Subject, 
 I like it not ; it was filch'd out of Horace. 
 -^--Nay, I have read the Poets : But the Fellow 
 That play'd the Doctor, did it well, by Venus ; 
 He had a tuneable Tongue and neat Delivery ; 
 And yet, in my Opinion, he would perform 
 A Lover's Part much better. Prithee, Gefar,
 
 300 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 For I grow weary, let us fee To-morrow 
 
 Iphis and Anaxarete. \ 
 
 Caef. Any Thing 
 For thy Delight, Domitia. To your Reft 
 Till I come to difquiet you. Wait upon her. 
 There is a Bufinefs that I mufl difpatch, 
 And I will ftraightbe with you. 
 
 [Exeunt Aretinus, Domitia, Julia, Casnis, and 
 Domitilla. 
 
 Parthen. Now, my dread Sir, 
 Endeavour to prevail. 
 
 C*f. One Way or other, 
 We'll cure him, never doubt it. Now, Philargus, 
 Thou wretched Thing, haft thou feen thy fordid Bafe- 
 
 nefs } 
 And but obferv'd what a contemptible Creature 
 A covetous Mifer is ! Doft thou in thyfelf 
 Feel true Compunction, with a Refolution 
 To be a new Man ? 
 
 P hilar. This craz'd Body's C<efar's ; 
 But for my Mind 
 
 Off, Trifle not with my Anger. 
 Canft thou make good Ufe of what was now prefented j 
 And imitate, in thy fudden Change of Life, 
 The miferable rich Man that exprefs'd 
 What thou art to the Life ? 
 
 Philar. Pray you give me Leave 
 To-die as I have liv'd. I mult not part with 
 My Gold ; it is my Life. I am paft Cure, 
 
 Cef. No ; by Minerva, thou malt never more 
 Feel the leaft Touch of Avarice Take him hence, 
 And hang him inftantly. If there be Gold in Hell, 
 Enjoy it thine here and thy Life together 
 Is forfeited. 
 
 Philar. Was I fent for to this Purpofe ? 
 
 Parthen. Mercy for all my Service ! Cafar, Mercy ! 
 
 Caf. Should Jove plead for him, 'tis refolv'd he dies, 
 And he that fpeaks one Syllable to difluade me ; 
 And therefore tempt me not It is but Juftice :
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 301 
 
 Since fuch, as wilfully, will hourly die, 
 Muft tax themfelves, and not my Cruelty. 
 
 [Exeunt omnes. 
 
 End of the Second Atl. 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 A Garden of the Palace. 
 
 Enter Julia, Domitilla and Stephanos. 
 
 NO, Domitilla ; if you but compare 
 What I have fuffer'd with your Injuries, 
 (Tho' great ones, I confefs) they will appear 
 Like Molehills to Otympus. 
 
 Domitilla. You are tender 
 Of your own Wounds, which makes you lofe the Feel- 
 ing 
 And Senfe of mine. The Inceft he committed 
 With you, and publickly profefs'd, in Scorn 
 Of what the World durfl cenfure, may admit 
 Some weak Defence, as being borne Headlong to it, 
 But in a manly Way, to enjoy your Beauties. 
 Befides, won by his Perjuries, that he would 
 Salute you with the Title of Augufta, 
 Your faint Denial fhow'd a full Content, 
 And Grant to his Temptations : But, poor I, 
 That would not yield, but was with Violence forc'd 
 To ferve his Lulls, and in a Kind Tiberius 
 At Caprea never practis'd, have not here 
 One confcious Touch to rife up my Accufer, 
 I in my Will being innocent. 
 
 Stepk. Pardon me, 
 Great Princeffes, tho' I prefumc to tell you, 
 Wafting your Time in childifh Lamentations, 
 You do degenerate from the Blood you fpring from :
 
 3 02 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 For ther is fomething more in Rome expected 
 From Titus' Daughter and his Uncle's Heir, 
 Than Womanifh Complaints, after fuch Wrongs 
 Which Mercy cannot pardon. But, you'll fay, 
 Your Hands are weak, and ihould you but attempt 
 A ju ft Revenge on this inhuman Monfter, 
 This Prodigy of Mankind, bloody Domitian 
 Hath ready Swords at his Command, as well 
 As Iflands to confine you, to remove 
 His Doubts, and Fears, did he but entertain 
 The leaft Sufpicion you contriv'd or plotted 
 Again ft his Per foil* 
 
 Julia. 'Tis true, Stephanos*, 
 The Legions that fack'd Jerufalem 
 Under my Father Titus, are fworn his, 
 And I no more remember'd. 
 
 Domitilla. And to lofe 
 Ourfelves by building on impoflible Hopes, 
 Were defperate Madnefs. 
 
 Sieph. You conclude too faft 
 
 One fingle Arm, whofe Mafter does contemn 
 
 His own Life, holds a full Command o'er his, 
 
 'Spite of his Guards. I was your Bondman, Lady, 
 
 And you my gracious Patronefs ; my Wealth, 
 
 And Liberty your Gift ; and, tho' no Soldier, 
 
 To whom or Cuftom or Example makes 
 
 Grim Death appear lefs terrible, I dare die 
 
 To do you Service in a fair Revenge : 
 
 And it will better fuit your Births and Honours 
 
 To fall at once, than to live ever Slaves 
 
 To his proud Emprefs, that infults upon 
 
 Your patient Sufferings. Say but you Go on, 
 
 And I will reach his Heart, or perilh. in 
 
 The noble Undertaking. 
 
 Domitilla. Your free Offer 
 Confirms your Thankfulnefs, which I acknowledge 
 A Satisfaction for a greater Debt 
 Than what you ftand engag'd for : but I muft not 
 Upon uncertain Grounds hazard fo grateful, 
 And good a Servant, The immortal Powers
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 303 
 
 Protect a Prince, tho' fold to impious Acts, 
 And feem to flumber 'till his roaring Crimes 
 Awake their Juftice : But then, looking down, 
 And with impartial Eyes, on his Contempt 
 Of all Religion and moral Goodnefs, 
 They in their iecret Judgments do determine 
 To leave him to his Wickednefs, which links him, 
 When he is rnoft fecure. 
 
 Julia. His Cruelty 
 Increasing daily, of Neceffity * 
 
 Mull: render him as odious to his Soldiers, 
 Familiar Friends, and Freemen, as it hath done 
 Already to the Senate : Then forfaken 
 Of his Supporters, and grown terrible 
 Ev'n to himfelf, and her he now fo dotes on, 
 We may put into Act, what now with Safety 
 We cannot whifper. 
 
 Steph* I am Hill prepar'd 
 To execute, when you pleafe to command me : 
 Since I am confident he deferves much more 
 That vindicates his Country from a Tyrant 
 Than he that faves a Citizen. 
 
 Julia. O, here's Ccenis, [_En'er Cxnis. 
 
 Domitilla. Whence come you ? 
 
 Cams. From the Emprefs, who feems mov'd 
 In that you wait no better. Her Pride's grown 
 To fuch a Height, that lhe difdains the Service 
 Of her own Women : and efteems herfelf 
 Neglected, when the Princefles of the Blood, 
 On every coarfe Employment, are not ready 
 To Hoop to her Commands. i 
 
 Domitilla. Where is her Greatnefs ? 
 
 Canis. Where you would little think lhe could defcend 
 To grace the Room or Perfons. 
 
 Julia. Speak, where is lhe ? 
 
 Cams. Among the Players, where, all State laid by, 
 She does enquire who acts This Part, who That, 
 And in what Habits ? Blames the Tire-women 
 Yor want of curious Drellings ; and fo taken 
 She is with Paris the Tragedian's Shape,
 
 34 THE ROMAN ACTOR, 
 
 That is to act: a Lover, I thought once 
 She would have courted him. 
 
 Domitilla. In the mean Time 
 How fpends the Emperor his Hours ? 
 
 Gents* As ever 
 He hath done heretofore ; in being cruel 
 To innocent Men, whofe Virtues he calls Crimes* 
 And, but this Morning, if 't be poffible, 
 He hath out-gone himfelf, having condemn'd 
 At Aretinus his Informer's Suit, 
 Palphurius Sura, and good Junius Rufticus, 
 Men of the beft Repute in Rome for their 
 Integrity of Life; no Fault objected, 
 But that they did lament his cruel Sentence 
 On Patus 'thrafea the Philofopher, 
 Their Patron and Inftructor. 
 
 Steph. Can Jove fee this 
 And hold his Thunder ! 
 
 Domitilla. Nero and Caligula 
 Commanded only Mifchiefs ; but our Gefar 
 Delights to fee 'em. 
 
 Julia. What we cannot help, 
 We may deplore with Silence. 
 
 Gents, We are call'd for 
 By our proud Miftrefs. 
 
 Domitilla. We a-while mull fuffer. 
 
 Steph. It is true Fortitude to (land firm againfl 
 All Shocks of Fate, when Cowards faint and die 
 In Fear to fuffer more Calamity. 
 
 [Exeunt* 
 
 SCENE II. The Palace. 
 Enter Csefar and Parthenius. 
 
 Gef. They are then in Fetters ? 
 
 Parthenius. Yes, Sir. But 
 
 Gef, But? What? 
 I'll have thy Thoughts ; deliver them.
 
 tH ROMAN ACTOR. 305 
 
 Parthen. I mall, Sir : 
 But ftill fubmitting to your God-like Pleasure, 
 Which cannot be inftru&ed. 
 
 Gef. To the Point. 
 
 Parthen. Nor let your facred Majefty believe 
 Your Vaffal, that with dry Eyes look'd upon 
 His Father dragg'd to Death by your Command* 
 Can pity thefe that durft prefume to cenfure 
 What you decreed. 
 
 Caf. Well: Forward* 
 
 Parthen, 'Tis my Zeal 
 Still to preferve your Clemency admir'd, 
 Temper'd with Juftice, that emboldens me 
 To offer my Advice. Alas ! I know, Sir, 
 Thefe Bookmen, Ritfticus and Palphurius Sura+ 
 Deferve all Tortures. Yet, in my Opinion, 
 They being popular Senators, and cried up 
 With loud Applaufes of the Multitude, 
 For foolifh Honefty, and beggarly Virtue, 
 'Twould reliih more of Policy, to have them 
 Made away in private, with what exquifite Torments 
 You pleafe, it flails not, than to have them drawn 
 To the Decrees ,a in publick ; for 'tis doubted 
 That the fad Object may beget Compaffion 
 In the giddy Rout, and caufe fome fudden Uproar 
 That may difturb you. 
 
 C<ef. Hence, pale-fpirited Coward ! 
 Can we defcend fo far beneath ourfelf, 
 As, or to court the People's Love, or fear 
 Their worft of Hate ? Can they, that are as Duft 
 Before the Whirlwind of our Will and Power, 
 Add any Moment to us ? Or thou think, 
 If there are Gods above, or Goddeffes, 
 (But wife Minerva, that's mine own, and fure) 
 
 1 2 To the Decrees, &c. 
 
 This (hould be Degrees, and means the GraJus Gemonli, the Place 
 of Execution at Romt. M. M. 
 
 X
 
 3 o6 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 That they have vacant Hours to take into 
 
 Their ferious Protection or Care, 
 
 This many-headed Monlter ? Mankind lives 
 
 In few, as potent Monarchs and their Peers ; 
 
 And all thole glorious Conftellations 
 
 That do adorn the Firmament, appointed, 
 
 Like Grooms, with their bright Influence to attend 
 
 The Actions of Kings and Emperors-, 
 
 They being the greater Wheels that move the lefs. 
 
 Bring forth thofe condemn'd Wretches ; let me fee 
 
 One Man fo loft, as but to pity 'em, 
 
 And tho' there lay a Million of Souls 
 
 Imprifon'd in his Flefh, my Hangmen's Hooks 
 
 Should rend it off' and give 'em Liberty. 
 
 Ctefar hath faid it. {Exit Parthenius. 
 
 Enter Parthenius, Aretinus, and the Guard; Execu- 
 tioners dragging in Junius Rufticus, and Palphurius 
 Sura, bound Back to Back. 
 
 Aret. 'Tis great G*far*& Pleafure, 
 That with fix'd Eyes you carefully obferve 
 The People's Looks. Charge upon any Man 
 That with a Sigh, or Murmur does exprefs 
 A feeming Sorrow for thefe Traitors' Deaths. 
 You know his Will, perform it. 
 
 C<ef. A good Blood-hound, 
 And fit for my Employments. 
 
 Sur. Give us Leave 
 To die, fell Tyrant. 
 
 Ruft. For, beyond our Bodies, 
 Thou haft no Power. 
 
 C*f. Yes; I'll armcl your Souls, 
 And force them groaning to the Stygian Lake, 
 Prepar'd for fuch to howl in, that blafpheme 
 The Power of Princes, that are Gods on Earth. 
 Tremble to think how terrible the Dream is 
 After this Sleep of Death. 
 
 RpJ}. To guilty Men 
 It may bring Terror ; not to us, that know
 
 THE'ROMAN ACTOR. 357 
 
 What 'tis to die, well taught by his Example 
 "For whom we fuffer. In my Thought I fee 
 The Subftance of that pure untainted Soul> 
 Of Thrafea, our Mafter, made a Star* 
 That with melodious Harmony invites us 
 (Leaving this Dunghill Rome, made Hell by thee) 
 To trace his heav'nly Steps and fill a Sphere 
 Above yon Cryftal Canopy; 
 
 Caf. Do invoke him 
 With all the Aids his Sanctity of Life 
 Have won on the Rewarders of his Virtue ; . 
 They fhall not fave you. Dogs, do you grin ? torment 
 'em. [The Hangmen torment 'em, they jl ill 
 
 So, take a Leaf of Seneca nowj and prove j'miiing; 
 
 If it can render you infenfible 
 Of that which but begins here; Now an Oil, 
 Drawn from the Stoick's frozen Principles, 
 Predominate o'er Firej were ufeful for you . 
 
 Again, again. You trifle. Not a Groan ? 
 
 Is my Rage loft ? What curfed Charms defend 'em ! 
 Search deeper, Villains. Who looks pale, or thinks 
 That I am cruel ? 
 
 Aret. Over-mercifuL 
 *Tis all your Weaknefs, Sir; 
 
 Parth. I dare not fhew 
 A Sign of Sorrow ; yet my Sinews fhrink j 
 The Spectacle isfo horrid j [Afide* 
 
 Gef. I was never 
 O'ercome till now; For my Sake roar a little, 
 And fhew you are corporeal and not turn'd 
 Aerial Spirits. Will it not do ? By Pallas j 
 It is unkindly done to mock his Fury 
 Whom the World fliles Omnipotent. I'm tortur'd 
 In their Want of feeling Torments. Marias' Story, 
 That does report him to have fat unmov'd 
 When cunning Chirurgeons ripp'd his Arteries 
 And Veins, to cure his Gout, compar'd to this, 
 Defer ves not to be nam'd. Are they not dead ? 
 If not, we wafh an JEthiope, 
 
 X 2
 
 3 o8 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Sur. No; we live. 
 
 Ruji. Live to deride thee, our calm Patience treading 
 Upon the Neck of Tyranny. That fecurely, 
 (As 'twere a gentle Slumber) we endure 
 Thy Hangmen's iludied Tortures, is a Debt 
 We owe to grave Philofophy, that inftructs us 
 The Flelh is but the Cloathingof the Soul, 
 Which growing out of Fafhion, tho' it be 
 Call off, or rent, or torn, like ours, 'tis then, 
 Being itfelf divine, in her bell; Luftre. 
 But unto fuch as thou, that hall no Hopes 
 Beyond the prefent, every little Scar,. 
 The Want of Rell, Excels of Heat or Cold 
 That does inform them only they are mortr.i, 
 Pierce thro' and thro' them. 
 
 Caf, We will hear no more. 
 
 Ruji. This only, and I give thee Warning of it : 
 Tho' it is in thy Will to grind this Earth 
 As fmall as Atoms, they thrown in the Sea too, 
 They mail feem recollected to thy Senfe ; 
 And, when the fandy Building of thy Greatncfs 
 Shall with its own Weight totter, look to fee me, 
 As I was yellerday in my perfect Shape; 
 For I'll appear in Horror. 
 
 Caf. By my making 
 I am the Guilty Man, and not the Judge. 
 Drag from my Sight thefe curfed ominous Wizards, 
 That as they're now, like to double-fac'd James, 
 Which Way foe'er I look, are Furies to me. 
 Away with 'em. Firil ihew them Death, then leave 
 No Memory of their Allies. I'll mock Fate. 
 
 [Exeunt Executioners zvith Ruilicus and Sura, 
 Stephanos following. 
 Shall Words fright him victorious Armies circle ? 
 No, no, the Fever does begin to leave me, 
 
 Enter Domitia, Julia, and Caenis. 
 
 Or, were it deadly, from this living Fountain 
 I could renew the Vigour of my Youth,
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 309 
 
 And be a fecond Virbius. O my Glory ! 
 My Life ! command my All ! 
 
 Domitia. As you to me are. 
 
 [Embracing and kijfing mutually. 
 I heard you were fad ; I have prepar'd you Sport 
 Will banim Melancholy. Sirrah, Gejar, 
 (I hug myfelf for't) I have been inftructing 
 The Players how to act, and, to cut off 
 All tedious Impertinency, have contracted 
 The Tragedy into one continu'd Scene. 
 I have the Art of 't, and am taken more 
 With my Ability that Way than all Knowledge 
 I have but of thy Love. 
 
 Gefi Thou'rt ftill thyfelf, 
 The fweeteft, wittieft- 
 
 Domitia. When we are a-bed 
 I'll thank your good Opinion. Thou fhalt fee 
 Such an Iphis of thy Paris, and, to humble 
 The Pride of Domitilla that neglects me, 
 (Howe'er me is your Coufin) I have forc'd her 
 To play the Part of Anaxarete* 
 You're not offended with it ? 
 
 Cef. Any Thing 
 That does content thee yields Delight to me ; 
 My Faculties and Powers are thine. 
 
 Domitia. I thank you : 
 Prithee let's take our Places. Bid 'em enter 
 
 [After ajhort Flourijh, enter Paris as Iphis. 
 Without more Circumltance. How do you like 
 That Shape IJ ? Methinks it is molt fuitable 
 To the AfpecT: of a dcfpairing Lover. 
 The feeming late-fal'n, counterfeited Tears 
 That hang upon his Cheeks, was my Device, 
 
 C<ef. And all was excellent. 
 
 13 T'batSbapt? 
 
 The Roman A&ors played in Mafks, one of which Doxltia calls a 
 Shape, M.M. 
 
 X 3
 
 3 20 THE ROMAN ACTOR, 
 
 Domitia. Now hear him fpeak. 
 
 Paris* That me is fair (and that an Epithet 
 Too foul toexprefs her) or defcended nobly, 
 Or rich, or fortunate, are certain Truths 
 In which poor Iphis glories. But that thefe 
 Perfections, in no other Virgin found, 
 Abus'd, ihould nourifh Cruelty and Pride 
 In the divineft Anaxarete, 
 Is, to my love-fick languishing Soul a Riddle, 
 And with more Difficulty to be folv*d, 
 Than that, the Monfter Sphinx from the fteepy Rock 
 OfTcr'd to OEdipus. Imperious Love, 
 As at thy ever-flaming Altars Iphis, 
 Thy never-tired Votary, hath prefented 
 With fcalding Tears whole Hecatombs of Sighsj 
 Preferring thy Power and thy Paphian Mother's, 
 Before the Thunderer's, Neptune 's, or Pluto's, 
 (That after Saturn did divide the World, 
 And had the Sway of Things, yet were compelled 
 By thy inevitable Shafts to yield, 
 And fight under thy Enfigns) be aufpicions 
 To this laft Trial of my Sacrifice 
 Of Love, and Service. 
 
 Domitia. Does he not act it rarely ? 
 Obferve with what a Feeling he delivers 
 His Orifons to Cupid ; I am rapt with't. 
 
 Paris. And from thy never-emptied Quiver take 
 A golden Arrow, to transfix her Heart, 
 And force her Love like me ; or cure my Wound 
 With a leaden one that may beget in me 
 Hate and Forgetfulnefs of what's now my Idol. 
 But I call back my Prayer ; I have blafphem'd 
 In my ram Wiih. 'Tis I that am unworthy ; 
 But me all Merit, and may in Juftice challenge 
 From the Aflurance of her Excellencies, 
 Not Love but Adoration. Yet, bear Witnefs, 
 All-knowing Powers! I bring along with me, 
 As faithful Advocates to make Interccflion, 
 A loyal Heart with pure and holy Flames, 
 With the foul Fires of Lull: never polluted,
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 311 
 
 And, as I touch her Threfhold (which with Tears, 
 My Limbs benumb'd with Cold, I oft have wafh'd) 
 With my glad Lips, I kifs this Earth grown proud 
 With frequent Favours from her delicate Feet. 
 
 Domitia. By Gefars Life he weeps. And I forbear 
 Hardly to keep him Companv. 
 
 Paris. Bleft Ground, thy Pardon, 
 If I prophane it with forbidden Steps. 
 I muft prefume to knock and yet attempt it 
 With fuch a trembling Reverence, as if 
 My Hands were held up for Expiation 
 To the incenied Gods to fpare a Kingdom. 
 Within there, ho .! fomething Divine come forth 
 To a diftrefled Mortal. 
 
 Enter Latinus as a Porter, 
 
 Latin. Ha ! Who knocks there ? 
 
 Domitia. What a churlifti Look this Knave has ! 
 
 Latin. Is't you, Sirrah ? 
 Are you come to pule and whine ? Avaunt, and 
 
 quickly ; 
 Dog-whips fhall drive you hence, elfe. 
 
 Domitia. Churlifh Devil ! 
 But that I mould diflurb the Scene, as I live 
 J. would tear his Eyes out. 
 
 C<ef. 'Tis in Jeft, Domitia. 
 
 Domitia. I do riot like fuch Jelling : If he 'were not 
 A flinty-hearted Slave he could not life 
 One of his Form fo harfhly. How the Tpad fwells 
 At the other's fweet Humility ! 
 
 Caf. 'Tis his Part :- 
 
 JL-et 'em proceed. 
 
 Domitia. A Rogue's Part will ne'er leave him. 
 
 Paris. As you have, gentle Sir, the Happinefs 
 (When you pleafe) to behold the Figure of 
 The Mafter-piece of Nature, limn'd to the Life, 
 In more than human Anaxarete, 
 $corn not your Servant, that with fuppliant Hands, 
 
 v 
 
 ^ 4
 
 %\% THE ROMAN ACTOR, 
 
 Takes hold upon your Knees, conjuring you, 
 As you're a Man, and did not fuck the Milk 
 Of Wolves and Tygers, or a Mother of 
 A rougher Temper, ufe fpme Means, thefc Eyes 
 Before they are wept out, may fee your Lady. 
 Will you be gracious, Sir ? 
 
 Latin, Tho' I lofe my place for't, 
 I can hold out no longer. 
 
 Domitia. Now he melts ; 
 There is fome little Hope he may die honeft, 
 
 Enter Domitilla for Anaxarete. 
 
 Latin. Madam ! 
 
 Domitilla. Who calls ? What Object have we here ? 
 
 Domitia. Your Coufin keeps her proud State (till, I 
 think 
 I have fitted her for a Part. 
 
 Domitilla. Did I not charge thee 
 I ne'er might fee this Thing more ? 
 
 Paris. I am, indeed, 
 What Thing you pleafe; a Wqrmthatyou may tread on \ 
 Lower I cannot fall to fhew my Duty, 
 Till your Difdain hath digg'd a Grave to cover 
 This Body with forgotten Duft ; and, when 
 I know your Sentence (cruel'ft of Women) 
 I'll, by a willing Death, remove the Object 
 That is an Eyefore to you. 
 
 Domitilla. Wretch, thou dar'ft not : 
 That were the laft, and greateft Service to me 
 Thy doting Love could boaft of. What dull Fool 
 But thou, could nourifh any flatt'ring Hope, 
 One of my Height, in Youth, in Birth and Fortune^ 
 Could e'er defcend to look upon thy Lownefs ? 
 Much lefs confent to make my Lord of one 
 I'd not accept, tho' offer'd for my SJave : 
 My Thought? ftcop not fo low. 
 
 Domitia, There's her true Nature; 
 l^o perfonated Scorn,
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 313 
 
 Domitilla. I wrong my Worth, 
 Or to exchange a Syllable or Look 
 With one (o far beneath me. 
 
 Paris, Yet, take heed, 
 Take heed of Pride, and curiouily confider, 
 How brittle the Foundation is on which 
 You labour to advance it. Niobe, 
 Proud of her num'rous Ifliie, durft contemn 
 Latona's double Burthen. But what follow'd ? 
 She was left a childlefs Mother and mourn'd to Marble, 
 The Beauty you o'er-prize fo, Time or Sicknefs 
 Can change to loath'd Deformity ; 5iour Wealth 
 The Prey of Thieves ; Queen Hecuba 'Troy nYd, 
 Ulyjfes' Bondwoman ,+ . But the Love I bring you 
 Nor Time, nor Sicknefs, violent Thieves, nor Fate, 
 Can ravifh from ypu. 
 
 Domitia. Could the Oracle 
 Give better Counfel ! 
 
 Paris. Say, will you relent yet ? 
 Revoking your Decree that I mould die ? 
 Or, fhall I do what you command ? Refolve ; 
 J am impatient of Delay. 
 
 Domitilla. Difpatch then : 
 I fhall look on your Tragedy unmov'd ; 
 Peradventure laugh at it ; for it will prove 
 A Comedy to me. 
 
 Domitia. O Devil ! Devil ! v 
 
 Paris. Then thus I take my laft Leave. All tfyc 
 Curfes 
 Of Lovers fall upon you ; and, hereafter, 
 When any Man, like me contemn'd, mall fiudy 
 In the Anguifh of his Soul to give a Name 
 To a fcornful cruel Miflrefs, let him only 
 Say this mod bloody Woman is to me, 
 
 J 4 2>ueen Hecuba T toy fit V, 
 Ulyflcs' Bondwoman. 
 
 Thefc two Half-lines arc entirely mifplaced,'and fhould not be in- 
 ferted here ; they afterwards occur in theSecond Volume, to which 
 Paflage they belong. M. Af,
 
 3 i 4 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 As Artaxarete was to wretched Iphis! 
 
 Now feaft your tyrannous Mind, and Glory in 
 
 The Ruins you have made : For Hymen's Bands 
 
 That fhould have made us one, this fatal Halter 
 
 For ever mall divorce us ; at your Gate, 
 
 As a Trophy of your Pride and my Affliction, 
 
 I'll prefently hang myfelf. 
 
 Domitia. Not for the World. 
 Reftrain him as you love your lives. 
 
 Caf. Why are you 
 Tranfported thus, Domitia ? 'Tis a Play ; 
 Or, grant it ferious, it at no Part merits 
 This Paffion in you. 
 
 Paris. I ne'er purpos'd, Madam, 
 To do the Deed in earnefl ; tho* I bow 
 To your Care, and Tender nefs of me; 
 
 Domitia. Let me, Sir 
 Intreat your Pardon ; what I faw prefented 
 Carried me beyond myfelf. 
 
 Off To your Place again, 
 And fee what follows. 
 
 Domitia. No, I am familiar 
 With the Conclufion ; befides, upon the fudden 
 I feel myfelf much indifpos'd, 
 
 Caf. To Bed then ; 
 I'll be thy Doctor. 
 
 Aret. There is fomething more 
 In this than Paffion, which I mufl find out 
 Or my Intelligence freezes. [Afide* 
 
 Domitia. Come to me, Paris, 
 To-morrow for your reward. 
 
 Steph. Patronefs, hear me ; 
 Will you not call for your Share ? Sit down with this 
 And the next Action like a Gaditane Strumpet, 
 I mall look to fee you tumble. 
 
 Domitilla. Prithee be Patient. 
 I, that have fuffer'd greater Wrongs, bear this ; 
 And that, till my Revenge, my Comfort is. {ExewP. 
 
 End of the third M
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR, 313 
 
 ACT IV, S C E N E I, 
 
 An Apartment In the "Palace, 
 
 Enter Parthenius, Julia, Domitilla, and Ca?nis, 
 Parthenius, 
 
 WHY, 'tis impoffible Paris? 
 Julia. You obferv'd not 
 (As it appears) the Violence of her Paffion, 
 When perfonating Iphis, he pretended 
 (For your Contempt, fair Anaxerete) [To DomitilU* 
 To hang himfelf. 
 
 Parthen. Yes, yes, I noted that ; 
 But never could imagine it could work her 
 To fuch a ftrange Intemperance of AfFe&ion, 
 As to doat on him. 
 
 Domitilla. By my Hopes, I think not 
 That fhe refpedts, tho' all here faw, and mark'd k, 
 Prefuming me can mould the Emperor's Will 
 Into what Form fhe likes, tho' we, and all 
 Th' Informers of the World, confpire to crofs it. 
 
 Gems, Then with what Eagerneis this Morning, ur- 
 ging 
 The Want of Health and Reft, fhe did entreat 
 Cafar to leave her. 
 
 Domitilla. Who, no fooner abfent, 
 But fhe calls, "Dwarf (fo in her Scorn fhe fliles me) 
 Put on my Pantofles fetch Pen and Paper ; 
 I am to write ; and with diftradted Looks, 
 In her Smock, impatient of fo lhort Delay . 
 As but to have a Mantle thrown upon her, 
 She feal'd-^I know not what, but 'twas indors'd 
 f my lov'd Parts.
 
 3 i6 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Julia. Add to this, I heard her 
 Say, when a Page rccciv'd it ; let him wait me, 
 And carefully, in the Walk call'd our Retreat, 
 Where Gefar, in his Fear to give Offence, 
 Unfent for, never enters, 
 
 P&rthen. This being certain, 
 (For thefe are mere than jealous Suppofitions) 
 Why do not you, that are fo near in Blood, 
 Difcover it ? 
 
 Domitilla. Alas ! you know we dare not : 
 'Twill be receiv'd for a malicious Practice, 
 To free us from that Slavery, which her Pride 
 Impofes on us. But, if you would pleafe 
 To break the Ice, on Pain to be funk ever, 
 We would aver it. 
 
 Par then. I would fecond you, 
 But that I am commanded with all Speed 
 To fetch in Afcktario the Chaldean, 
 Who in his Abfence is condemn'd of Treafon, 
 For calculating the Nativity 
 Of Gefar, with all Confidence foretelling 
 In every Circumftance, when he fhall die 
 A violent Death. Yet, if you could approve 
 Of my Directions, I would have you fpeak 
 As much to Aret'mus as you have 
 To me deliver'd. He in his own Nature 
 Being a Spy, on weaker Grounds, no doubt, 
 Will undertake it; not for Goodnefs-fake 
 (With which he never yet held Correfpondence) 
 But to endear his vigilant Obfervings 
 Of what concerns the Emperor, and a little 
 To triumph in the Ruins of this Paris, 
 That crofs'd him in the Senate-houfe. 
 
 Enter Aretinus. 
 
 Here he comes, 
 
 His Nofe held up ; he hath fomething in the Wind, 
 
 Or I much err already. My Defigns
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 317 
 
 Command me hence, great Ladies ; but I leave 
 
 My Wifhes with you. [Exit Parthenius. 
 
 Aret. Have I caught your Greatnefs 
 I' th' Trap, my proud Augujla ? 
 
 Domitilla. What is't raps him ? 
 
 Aret, And my fine Roman Actor ? Is't even fo ? 
 No Coarfer Dim to take your wanton Palate, 
 Save that which, but the Emperor, none durft tafle of? 
 'Tis very well. I needs muft glory in 
 This rare Difcovery ; but the Rewards 
 Of my Intelligence bid me think even now ; 
 By an Edidt from Ccefar I have Power, 
 To tread upon the Neck of flavim Rome, 
 Difpofing Offices and Provinces 
 To my Kinfmen, Friends and Clients. 
 
 Domitilla, This is more 
 Than ufual with him. 
 
 Julia, Aretinus ! 
 
 Aret, How ! 
 No more Refpedr. and Reverence tender'd to me 
 But Aretinus ? 'Tis confefs'd that Title, 
 When you were PrincefTes and commanded all, 
 Had been a Favour ; but being, as you are, 
 Vaflals to a proud Woman, the worft Bondage, 
 You (land oblig'd with as much Adoration 
 To entertain him, that comes arm'd with Strength 
 To break your Fetters, as tann'd Galley Slaves 
 Pay fuch as do redeem them from the Oar : 
 I come not to entrap you, but aloud 
 Pronounce that you are manumiz'd ; and, to make 
 Your Liberty fweeter, you fhall fee her fall, 
 (This Emprefs, this Domitia t what you will) 
 That triumph'd in your Miieries. 
 
 Domitilla, Were you ferious, 
 To prove your Accufation I could lend 
 Some Help. 
 
 C<enis, And I. 
 
 Julia, And I. 
 
 Aret, No Atom to me. 
 My Eyes and Ears are every where, I know all ;
 
 3t8 THE ROMAN ACTdk. 
 
 To the Line and Action in the Play that took her i 
 Her quick Diffimulation to excufe 
 Her being tranfportcd, with her Morning Paffiori } 
 1 brib'd the Boy that did convey the Letter, 
 And, having perus'd it, made it up again : 
 Your Griefs and Angers are to me familiar ; 
 That Paris is brought to her, and how far 
 He mail be tempted* 
 
 Domitilla. This is above Wonder* 
 
 Aret. My Gold can work much ftranger Miracles 
 Than to corrupt poor Waiters* Here, join with me ^ 
 'Tis a Complaint to Cafar. This is that 
 Shall ruin her, and raife you. Have you fet youi* 
 
 Hands 
 To th* Accufation ? 
 
 Julia* And will juftify 
 What we've fubferib'd to* 
 
 Genis, And with Vehemence.' 
 
 Domitilla. I will deliver it. 
 
 Aret. Leave the reft to me then. 
 
 "Enter Caefar, with his Guard* 
 
 Caf. Let our Lieutenants bring us Victory y 
 While we enjoy the Fruits of Peace at Home ; 
 And, being lecur'd from our inteftine Foes, 
 Far worfe than foreign Enemies, Doubts and Fears, 
 Tho' all the Sky were hung with blazing Meteors, 
 Which fond Aftrologers give out to be 
 Affur'd Prefages of the Change of Empires, 
 And Deaths of Monarchs, we, undaunted yet, 
 Guarded with our own Thunder, bid Defiance 
 To them and Fate, we being too ftrongly arm'd 
 For them to wound us. 
 
 Aret. Cafar 
 
 Julia. As thou art 
 More than a Man 
 
 Canis. Let not thy Paflions be 
 Rebellious to thy Rcafon [The Petition delivered.
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 319 
 
 Do?>iifilla. But receive 
 This Trial of your Conftancy, as unmov'd 
 As you go to or from the Capitol, 
 Thanks given to Jc-ve for Triumphs. 
 
 Domitilla. Vouchfafe 
 A while to ltay the Lightning of your Eyes 
 Poor Mortals dare not look on. 
 
 Aret. There's no Vein 
 Of yours that rifes with high Rage but is 
 An Earthquake to us. 
 
 Domitilla. And, if not kept clos'd 
 With more than human Patience, in a Moment 
 Will fwallow us to the Center. 
 
 Genu. Not that we 
 Repine to ferve her, are we her Accufers 
 
 Julia. But that fhe's fall'n fo low. 
 
 Aret. Which on fure Proofs 
 We can make good. 
 
 Domitilla. And fhow ihe is unworthy 
 Of the leaft Spark of that diviner Fire 
 You have confer'd upon her. 
 
 Caf. I ftand doubtful 
 And unrefolv'd what to determine of you. 
 In this malicious Violence you have ofler'd 
 To the Altar of her Truth and Purenefs to me, 
 You have but fruitlefsly labour'd to fully 
 A white Robe of Perfection, black-mouth'd Envy 
 Could belch no Spot on But I will put oft' 
 The Deity you labour to take from me, 
 And argue out of Probabilities with you, 
 As if I were a Man. Can I believe 
 That me, that borrows all her Light from me, 
 And knows to ufe it, would betray her Darknefs 
 To your Intelligence ? And make that apparent, 
 Which by her Perturbations in a Play 
 Was yellcrday but doubted, and find none 
 But you, that are her Slaves, and therefore hate her, 
 Whofe Aids ihe might employ to make Way for her ? 
 Or AretimiSy whom long fince ihe knew, 
 To be the Cabinet Counfellor, nay, the Key
 
 ^io THE ROMAN ACTOR, 
 
 Of Ctefars Secrets ? Could her Beauty raife her 
 To this unequal'd Height to make her fall 
 The more remarkable ? Or mufl my Defires 
 To her, and Wrongs to Lamia, be reveng'd 
 By her, and on herfelf, that drew on both ? 
 Or me leave our imperial Bed to court 
 A publick Adtor ? 
 
 Aret. Who dares contradict 
 Thefe more than human Reafons, that have Power 
 To clothe bafe Guilt in the moft glorious Shape 
 Of Innocence ? 
 
 Domitllla. Too well me knew the Strength 
 And Eloquence of her Patron to defend her, 
 And, thereupon prefuming, fell fecurely, 
 Not fearing an Accufer, nor the Truth 
 Produc'd againft her, which your Love and Favour 
 Will ne'er difcern from Falfehood. 
 
 Cef. I'll not hear 
 A Syllable more that may invite a Change 
 In my Opinion of her. You have rais'd 
 A fiercer War within me by this Fable, 
 (Tho' with your Lives you vow to make it 'Story ,J ) 
 Than if, and at one Inftant, all my Legions 
 Revolted from me, and came arm'd againft me. 
 Here in this Paper are the Swords predeftin'd 
 For my Deftruclion ; here the fatal Stars, 
 That threaten more than Ruin ; this the Death's Head 
 That does allure me, if fhe can prove falfe, 
 That I am mortal, which a fudden Fever 
 Would prompt me to believe, and faintly yield to. 
 But now in my full Confidence what file fuffers, 
 In that, from any Witnefs but myfelf, 
 I nourifh a Sufpicion file's untrue, 
 My Toughnefs returns to me. Lead on, Monfters, 
 And, by the Forfeit of your Lives, confirm 
 She is all Excellence, as you all Bafencls ; 
 
 15 To make it 'Storj. 
 As clear as any hiflorical Truth. D.
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 321 
 
 Or let Mankind, for her Fall, boldly fwear. 
 There are no ehafte Wives now, nor ever were. 
 
 [Exeunt omncs* 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Enter Domitia> Paris and Servants. 
 
 Domitia. Say we command, that none prefume to 
 dare 
 On Forfeit of our Favour, that is Life, 
 Out of a faucy Curioufnefs to ftand 
 Within the Diftarice of their Eyes or EarSj 
 Till we pleafe to be waited on* [Exeunt Servants, 
 
 ' And, Sirrah ; 
 
 Howe'er you are excepted, let it not 
 Beget in you an arrogant Opinion 
 'Tis done to grace you* 
 
 Paris. With my humblefl Service 
 1 but obey your Summons, and mould blulh elfe 
 To be fo near you. 
 
 Domitia. *T would become you rather 
 To fear the Greatnefs of the Grace vOuchfafM yoa 
 May overwhelm you ; and 'twill do no lefs, 
 If, when you are rewarded, in your Cups 
 You boaft this Privacy* 
 
 Paris. That were, mightieft Emprefs, 
 To play with Lightning* 
 
 Domitia. You conceive it right. 
 The Means to kill or fave, is not alone 
 In Cafar circumfcrib'd ; for, if incens'd, 
 We have our Thunder too that ftrikes as deadly. 
 
 Paris. 'T would ill become the Lownefs of my For- 
 tune, 
 To queflion what you can do, but with all 
 Humility to attend what is your Will, 
 And then to ferve it. 
 
 Vol. I. Y
 
 322 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Domitia. And would not a Secret 
 (Suppofe We mould commit it to your Truft) 
 Scald you to keep it ? 
 
 Paris. Tho' it rag'd within me 
 Till I turn'd Cinders, it fhould ne'er have Vent. 
 To be an Age a dying, and with Torture, 
 Only to be thought worthy of your Council, 
 Or aduate what you command to me, 
 A wretched obfeure Thing, not worth your Know- 
 ledge, 
 Were a perpetual Happinefs. 
 
 Domitia. We could wifh 
 That we could credit thee, and cannot find 
 In Reafon, but that thou, whom oft IVe feen 
 To perfonate a Gentleman, noble, wife, 
 Faithful and gainfome, and what Virtues elfe 
 The Poet pleafes to adorn you with ; 
 But that (as Veflels ftill partake the Odour 
 Of the fweet precious Liquors they containM) 
 Thou mult be really in fome Degree 
 The Thing thou doft prefent. Nay, do not tremble ; 
 We ferioufly believe it, and prcfume 
 Our Paris is the Volume in which all 
 Thofe excellent Gifts the Stage hath feen him grae'd 
 
 with 
 Are curioufly bound up. 
 
 Paris. The Argument 
 Is the fame, great Augufla, that I, acting 
 A Fool, a Coward, a Traitor, or cold Cynick, 
 Or any other weak and vicious Perfon, 
 Of force I muft be fuch. O, gracious Madam, 
 How glorious foever, or deform 'd, 
 I do appear i* th' Scene, my Part being ended, 
 And all my borrow'd Ornaments put off, 
 I am no more, nor lefs, than what I was 
 Before I enter'd. 
 
 Domitia. Come, you would put on 
 A wilful Ignorance, and not undcrftand 
 What 'tis we point at. Mult we in plain Language, 
 Againft the decent Modefty of our Sex,
 
 ^THE ROMAN ACTdR. 323 
 
 Say that we love thee, love thee to enjoy thee ? 
 Or that in our Defires thou art preferr'd, 
 AnAQefar but thy Second ? Thou in Juflice 
 (IF from the Height of Majefty we can 
 Look down upon thy Lownefs, and embrace it) 
 Art bound with Fervour to look up to me. 
 
 Paris. O, Madam ! hear me with a patient Ear> 
 And be but pleas'd to underftand theReafohs 
 That do deter me from a Happinefs 
 Kings would be Rivals for. Can I, that owe 
 My Life, and all that's mine, to Cafar's Bounties* 
 Beyond my Hopes or Merits, ihower'd upon me* 
 Make Payment for them with Ingratitude^ 
 Falfehood and Treafon ? Tho' you have a Shape 
 Might tempt Hypolitus, and larger Power 
 To help or hurt than wanton Pkxdra had, 
 Let Loyalty and Duty plead my Pardon, 
 Tho' I refufe to fatisfy. 
 
 Domitia. You're coy, 
 Expecting I fhoiild court you let mean LadieS 
 Ufe Prayers and Intreaties to their Creatures 
 To rife up Inftruments to ferve their Pleafures ; 
 But for Augujla fo to lofe herfelf, 
 That holds Command o'er Cafar and the World, 
 Were Poverty of Spirit. Thou muft, thou fhalt ; 
 The Violence of my Paflion knows no Mean, 
 And in my Punifhments and my Rewards, 
 I'll ufe no Moderation : Take this only 
 As a Caution from me, thread-bare Chaflity 
 Is poor in the Advancement of her Servants, 
 But Wantonnefs magnificent ; and 'tis frequent 
 To have the Salary of Vice weigh down 
 The Pay of Virtue. So, without more trifling, 
 Thy fudden Anfwer. 
 
 Paris. Oh ! what a Strait am I brought in ! 
 Alas ! I know that the Denial's Death ; 
 Nor can my Grant, difcover'd, threaten more. 
 Yet to die innocent, and have the Glory 
 For all Pofterity to report, that I 
 
 Y 2
 
 324 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Refus'd an Emprcfs to preferve my Faith 
 
 To my great Matter, in true judgment muft 
 
 Show fairer, than to buy a guilty Lite 
 
 With Wealth and Honour. 'Tis the Bafe I build on ; 
 
 I dare not, muft not, will not. 
 
 Domitia. How ? Contcmn'd ? 
 Since Hopes nor Fears, in the Extremes, prevail not, 
 I muft ufe a Mean. Think who 'tis lues- to thee : 
 Deny not that yet, which a Brother may 
 Grant to his Sifter i As a Teftimony 
 
 [Ccfar, Aretinus, Julia, Domitilla, Caenis above.* 
 I am not fcorn'd, kits me. Kifs me again. 
 Kife clofer. Thou art now my Trojan Paris 
 And I thy Helen. 
 
 Paris. Since it is your Will. 
 
 def. And I am Menelaus. But I fhalt be 
 
 [Caviar defcends. 
 Something I know not yet. 
 
 Domitia. Why lofe we Time 
 And Opportunity. Thefe are but Sallads 
 To fharpen Appetite. Let us to the Feaft ; 
 
 [Courting Paris wantonly. 
 Where I fhall wifh that thou wert Jupiter 
 And I Alcmena, and that I had Power 
 To lengthen out one fhort Night into three, 
 And fo beget an Hercules. 
 
 C<ef. While Amphitrio 
 Stands by, and draws the Curtains. 
 
 Paris. Oh ! [Falls on his Face. 
 
 Domitia. Betray'd ! 
 
 C*f. No; taken in a Net of Vulcan's filing, 
 Wherein myfelf l6 the Theatre of the Gods 
 Are fad Spectators, not one of 'em daring 
 To witnefs with a Smile he docs defiie 
 To be fo iham'd for all the Pleafure that 
 
 16 Jiljercin myfrif) &.v. 
 
 It is evident that we fliould read, iir&rrf ;';; mjf<If; he fuppofes 
 rtie Theatre of the Gods to be computed in luru. M. M.
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. '33.5 
 
 You've fold your Being for : What mall I name thee? 
 Ingrateful, treacherous, infatiate, all 
 Invectives, which in Bitternefs of Spirit 
 Wrong'd Men have breath'd out againft wicked Wo- 
 men, 
 Cannot exprefs thee. Have I rais'd thee from 
 Thy low Condition to the Height of Greatnefs, 
 Command and Majefty, in one bafe A&. 
 To render me ? That was before I hugg'd thee ? 
 An Adder in my Bofom more than Man 
 A Thing beneath a Beaft ' 7 ? Did I force thefe 
 Of mine own Blood, as Handmaids to kneel to 
 Thy Pomp and Pride, having myfelf no Thought 
 But how with Benefits to bind thee mine ; 
 And am I thus rewarded ? Not a Knee ? 
 Nor Tear, nor Sign of Sorrow for thy Fault ? 
 Break flubborn Silence, What canft thou allege 
 To flay my Vengeance ? 
 
 Domitiq. This, Thy Luft compell'd me 
 To be a Strumpet, and mine hath return'd it 
 In my Intent and Will, tho' not in Act ? 
 To cuckold thee. 
 
 C<ef. O Impudence t Take her hence, 
 And let her make her Entrance into Hell, 
 By leaving Life with all the Tortures that 
 Flefh can be fenflble of Yet flay What Power 
 Her Beauty ftill holds o'er my Soul, that Wrongs 
 Of this unpardonable Nature cannot teach me 
 To right myfelf and hate her ! [Afulc, 
 
 Kill her. Hold. 
 
 O that my Dotage mould increafe from that 
 Which mould breed Detestation ! By Minerva t 
 If I look on her longer I mall melt, 
 
 17 Thefe Lines as they are printed are quite unintelligible ; they 
 jnuft be printed thus : 
 
 In one bafe A3 
 To render me, that -.vas, before J bugd tbce t 
 (An Adder) in rap Brfi>m more than Man t 
 A Thing beneath a Be aft ? M. M% 
 
 Y 1
 
 5 26 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 And fue to her, my Injuries forgot, 
 
 Again to be receiv'd into her Favour, 
 
 Could Honour yield to it. [Afide. 
 
 Carry her to my Chamber ; 
 
 Be that her Prifon, till in cooler Blood 
 
 I mail determine of her. [Exit Guard with Domitia, 
 
 Aret. Now I ftep in, 
 While he's in this calm Mood, for my Reward. 
 Sir, if my Service hath deferv'd 
 
 Gef. Yes, yes : 
 And I'll reward thee Thou haft robb'd me of 
 All Reft and Peace, and been the principal Means 
 To make me know that, of which if again 
 I could be ignorant of, I would pur chafe it 
 With the Lofs of Empire : Strangle him ; take thefe 
 
 hence too, 
 And lodge them in the Dungeon. Could yourRcafon, 
 Dull Wretches, flatter you with Hope to think 
 That this Difcovery, that hath fhower'd upon me 
 Perpetual Vexation, mould not fall 
 Heavy on you ? Away with 'em, ftop their Mouths, 
 I will hear no Reply. 
 
 [Exit Guard, with Aretinus, Julia, C^nis, 
 and Domitilla. 
 
 Paris, Paris f 
 
 How fhall I argue with thee ? How begin, 
 
 To make thee underftand, before I kill thee, 
 
 With what Grief and Unwillingnefs 'tis fore'd from me ? 
 
 Yet, in Refpedt I've favour'd thee, I'll hear 
 
 W T hat thou canft fpeak to qualify, or excufe 
 
 Thy Readinefs to ferve this Woman's Luft, 
 
 And wifh thou couldft give me fuch Satisfaction, 
 
 As I might bury the Remembrance of it. 
 
 Look up : We ftand attentive. 
 
 Paris. O, dread Cafar / 
 To hope for Life, or plead in the Defence 
 Of my Ingratitude, were again to wrong you. 
 
 1 know I have deferv'd Death ; and my Suit is 
 That you would haften it; yet, that your Highnefs, 
 When I am dead (as fure I will not live)
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 327 
 
 May pardon me, I'll only urge my Frailty, 
 Her Will, and the Temptation of that Beauty 
 Which you could not refill. How could poor I then 
 Fly that which follow'd me, and Cafir fuel for ? 
 This is all. And now your Sentence. 
 
 Caf. Which I know not 
 How to pronounce. O that thy Fault had been 
 But fuch as I might pardon ! if thou hadfl 
 In Wantonnefs (like Nero, fir'd proud Rome) 
 Betray'd an Army, butcher'^ the whole Senate ; 
 Committed Sacrilege, or any Crime 
 The Juftice of our Roman Laws calls Death, 
 I had prevented any Interceflion, 
 And freely fign'd thy Pardon. 
 
 Paris, But for this ! 
 Alas ! you cannot, nay, you muft not, Sir ; 
 Nor let it to Pofterity be recorded, 
 That Cafar, unreveng'd, fuffcr'd a Wrong, 
 Which, if a private Man mould fit down with it, 
 Cowards would bafHe him. 
 
 Caf, With fuch true Feeling 
 Thou argueft againfl thyfelf, that it 
 Works more upon me, than if my Minerva 
 (The grand Protedtrefs of my Life and Empire,) 
 On Forfeit of her Favour, cry'd aloud, 
 Cafar, mow Mercy. And, I know not how, 
 I am inclin'd to it. Rile. I'll promile nothing ; 
 Yet clear thy cloudy Fears, and cherim Hopes, 
 What we muft do, we fhall do : We remember 
 A Tragedy we oft have feen with Pleafure, 
 Call'd the Falfe Servant, 
 
 Paris, Such a one we have, Sir ; 
 In which a great Lord takes to his Protection 
 A Man forlorn, giving him ample Powpr 
 To order and difpofe of his Eftate 
 In his Abfencc, he pretending then a Journey : 
 But yet with this Reftraint that, on no Terms 
 (This Lord fufpecting his Wife's Conflancy, 
 $Jic having play'd falfe to a former Hulband)
 
 328 THE ROMAN ACTOR, 
 
 The Servant, tho' folicited, mould confent, 
 Tho' me commanded him to quench her Flames, 
 That was indeed, the Argument, 
 
 Caf. And what 
 Didft thou play in it ? 
 
 Paris, The Falfe Servant, Sir. 
 
 Caf. Thou didft, indeed. Do the Players wait without? 
 
 Paris, They do, Sir, and prepar'd to ad: the Story 
 Your Majefty mention'd. 
 
 Caf, Call 'em in. Who prefents 
 The injur'd Lord ? 
 
 Enter iEfopus, Latinus, and a Boy drefs'dfor a Lady, 
 
 ALfop, 'Tis my Part, Sir, 
 
 Caf, Thou didft not 
 Do it to the Life : We can perform it better. 
 Off with my Robe and Wreath ; fince Nero fcorn'd not 
 The public Theatre, we in private may 
 Difport ourfelves. This Cloak and Hat, without 
 Wearing a Beard, or other Property, 
 Will fit the Perfon. 
 
 JEfop. Only, Sir, a Foil 
 The Point and Edge rebutted, when you ac~t, 
 To do the Murder. If you pleafe to ufe this, 
 And lay afide your own Sword. 
 
 Caf. By no means, 
 In Jeft nor Earneft this parts never from me. 
 We'll have but one fhort Scene That, where the Lady 
 In an imperious Way commands the Servant 
 To be unthankful to his Patron : When 
 My Cue's to enter, prompt me : Nay, begin, 
 And do it fpritely ; tho' but a new Adtor, 
 When I come to Execution, you ihall find 
 No Caufe to laugh at me. 
 
 Latin, In the Name of Wonder 
 What's Cafar's Purpofe ? 
 
 JEfop. There's no contending. 
 
 Caf, W T hy, when ?
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 329 
 
 Tar is, I am arm'd ; 
 And, flood grim Death now within my View, and his 
 Inevitable Dart aim'd at my Breaft, 
 His cold Embraces mould not bring an Ague 
 To any of my Faculties, till his Pleafures 
 Were ferv'd and fatisfy'd ; which done, Nejlor's Years 
 To me would be unwelcome. 
 
 Boy. Mud we intreat, 
 That were born to command ? Or court a Servant 
 (That owes his Food and Cloathing to our Bounty) 
 For that, which thou ambitioully fhouldft kneel for ? 
 Urge not, in thy Excufe, the Favours of 
 Thy abfent Lord, or that thou ftandft engag'd 
 For thy Life to his Charity ; nor thy Fears 
 Of what may follow, it being in my Power 
 To mould him any Way. 
 
 Paris. As you may me, 
 In what his Reputation is not wounded, 
 Nor I, his Creature, in my Thankfulnefs fuffer. 
 I know you're young, and fair ; be virtuous too, 
 And loyal to his Bed, that hath advanc'd you 
 To th' Height of Happinefs. 
 
 Boy. Can my Love-lick Heart 
 Be cur'd with Counfel ? Or durft Reafon ever 
 Offer to put in an exploded Plea 
 In the Court of Venus. My Defircs admit not 
 The lead Delay. And therefore infiantly 
 Give me to underftand what I mall truit to. 
 For, if I am refus'd, and not enjoy 
 Thofe ravilhing Pleafures from thee I run mad for, 
 I'll fwear unto my Lord at his Return, 
 (Making what I deliver good with Tears) 
 That brutifhly thou wouklft have forc'd from, me 
 What I make Suit for. And then but imagine 
 What 'tis to die with thefe Words, Slave and Traitor, 
 With burning Corrofives writ upon thy Forehead, 
 And live prepar'd for't. 
 
 Paris. This he will believe 
 Upon her Information, 'tis apparent; 
 And then I'm nothing : And of two Extremes,
 
 330 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Wifdom fays, choofe the lefs. [Afidc. 
 
 Rather than fall 
 
 Under your Indignation, I will yield. 
 
 This Kifs, and this confirms it. 
 
 JEfop. Now, Sir, now. 
 
 Cef. I muit take them at it. 
 
 JEfop. Yes, Sir ; be but perfect. 
 
 Ca?J. O Villain! thanklefs Villain! Iftiould talk now 3 
 But I've forgot my Part But I can do, 
 Thus, thus, and thus. {Kills Paris. 
 
 Paris. Oh ! I am flain in earneft. 
 
 C<cf. 'Tis true; and 'twas my Purpofe, my good Paris: 
 And yet, before Life leave thee, let the Honour 
 I've done thee in thy Death bring Comfort to thee. 
 If it had been within the Power of Caefar, 
 His Dignity preferv'd, he had pardon'd thee. 
 But Cruelty of Honour did deny it. 
 Yet, to confirm I lov'd thee, 'twas my Study, 
 To make thy End more glorious, to diftinguifh 
 My Paj-is from all others, and in that 
 I've fhown my Pity. Nor would I let thee fall 
 By a Centurion's Sword, or have thy Limbs 
 Rent Piece-meal by the Hangman's Hook, however 
 Thy Crime deferv'd it: But as thou did live 
 Rome's braveft Actor, 'twas my Plot that thou 
 Shouldft die in Action, ,8 and, to crown it, die 
 With an Applaufe enduring to all Times, 
 By our Imperial Hand. His Soul is freed 
 From the Prifon of his Fleih, let it mount upward : 
 And for this Trunk when that the Funeral Pile 
 Hath made it Allies, we'll fee it inclos'd 
 In a golden Urn. Poets adorn his Hearfe 
 
 #3r 1 8 'twas my Plot that thou 
 
 Shouldjl die in Attion, &c. 
 
 The Emperor's Manner of killing Paris is a pretry Invention of 
 the Poet's : As an innocent Perfon we are forry for his Death ; yet con- 
 fidering the Nature of his Offence, and what an abfolute Tyrant he 
 had to encounter with, we cannot but applaud the Adion, though 
 we lament his End.
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 331 
 
 With their mod ravifhing Sorrows, and the Stage 
 For ever mourn him, and all iuch as were 
 His glad Spectators, weep his fudden Death, 
 The Cauie forgotten in his Epitaph. 
 
 [Exeunt. A fad Mufick, the Players bearing off 
 Paris'; Body, Casiar and the rejt following* 
 
 End of the Fourth Atl. 
 
 A C T V. S C E N E I. 
 
 Enter Parthenius, Stephanos, and Guard. 
 
 Parthcnius. 
 
 KEEP a ftrong Guard upon him, and admit not 
 Accels to any, to exchange a Word, 
 Or Syllable with him, till the Emperor pleafes 
 To call him to his Prefence. The Relation 
 That you have made me, Stephanos, of thefe late 
 Strange Paflions in C<efar, much amaze me. 
 The Informer Aretinus put to Death 
 For yielding him a true Difcovery 
 Of th* Emprefs' Wantonnefs ; poor Paris kill'd firn^ 
 And now lamented ; and the Princeffes 
 Confin'd tofeveral Iflands, yet Augufta, 
 The Machine on which all this Mifchief mov'd, 
 Receiv'd again to Grace ? 
 
 Steph. Nay, courted to it : 
 Such is the Impotence of his Affection ! 
 Yet, to conceal his Weaknefs, he gives out 
 The People made Suit for her, whom they hate more 
 Than Civil War or Famine. But take heed, 
 My Lord, that, nor in your Confent nor Wifhes, 
 You lent or Furtherance or Favour to 
 The Plot contriv'd againft her : Should me prpve it, 
 Nay, doubt it only, you are a loft Man, 
 Her Power o'er doating Gtfar being now 
 Greater than ever.
 
 33* THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Parthen. 'Tis a Truth I (hake at ; 
 And, when there's Opportunity.- 
 
 Steph. Say but do, 
 I am yours and fure. 
 
 Parthen. I'll Hand one Trial more, 
 And then you mail hear from me. 
 
 Steph. Now obferve 
 The Fondnefs of this Tyrant, and her Pride. 
 
 Enter Csefar and Domitia. 
 
 Gef. Nay, all's forgotten. 
 
 Domitia. It may be, on your Part. 
 
 Qef. Forgiven too, Domitia 'Tis a Favour 
 That you mould welcome with more cheerful Looks, 
 Can Qefar pardon what you durft not hope for 
 That did the Injury, and yet muft fue 
 To her, whofe Guilt is waih'd off by his Mercy, 
 Only to entertain it ? 
 
 Domitia. I afk'd none, 
 And I mould be more wretched to receive 
 Remiffion (for what I hold no Crime) 
 But by a bare Acknowledgment, than if 
 By flighting and contemning it, as now, 
 I dar'd thy utmoft Fury. Tho' thy Flatterers 
 Perfuade thee, that thy Murthers, Lufts, and Rapes, 
 Are Virtues in thee, and what pleafes C^far, 
 Tho* never fo unjuft, is right and lawful ; 
 Or work in thee a falfe Belief that thou 
 Art more than mortal, yet I to thy Teeth 
 (When circl'd with thy Guards, thy Rods, thy Axes, 
 And all the Enfigns of thy boafted Power) v 
 
 Will fay Domitian, nay, add to it, Qefar 
 Is a weak, feeble Man, a Bondman to 
 His violent Paflions, and in that my Slave ; 
 Nay, more my Slave, than my Affections made me 
 To my lov'd Paris. 
 
 Qef. Can I live and hear this ? 
 Or hear and not revenge it ? Come, you know
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 33 $ 
 
 The Strength that you hold on mc, do not ufe it 
 With too much Cruelty : for, tho' 'tis granted 
 That Lydian Omphale had lefs Command 
 O'er Hercules than you uiurp o'er me, 
 Reafon may teach me to make off the Yoke 
 Of my fond Dotage. 
 
 Domitia, Never ; do not hope k ; 
 It cannot be. Thou being my Beauty's Captive, 
 And not to be redeem'd, my Empire's larger 
 Than thine, Domitian, which I'll exercile 
 With Rigour on thee for my Paris Death. 
 And, when I've fore'd thofe Eyes, now red with Fury, 
 To drop down Tears, in vain fpent to appeafe me, 
 I know thy Fervour fuch to my Embraces 
 (Which mail be, tho' ftill kneel'd for, (till deny'd thee) 
 That thou with Languifhment malt wiih my Ator 
 Did live again, fo thou mightft be his fecond 
 To feed upon thofe Delicatcs, when he were fated. 
 Ccef. O my Minerva I 
 Domitia. There fhe is, invoke her : 
 She cannot arm thee with Ability 
 To draw thy Sword on mc my Power being greater : 
 Or only fay to thy Centurions, 
 Dare none of you do what I make to think on ? 
 And in this Woman's Death remove the Furies 
 That cv'ry Hour afflift me ? Lamia's Wrongs 
 When thy Luft fore'd me from him, are in me 
 At the Height reveng'd ; nor would I outlive -Paris ; 
 But that thy Love increafing with my Hate, 
 May add unto thy Torments ; fo, with all 
 Contempt I can, I leave thee. [Exit Domitia. 
 
 Caf. I am loft, 
 Nor am I Cafar : When I firft betray'd 
 The Freedom of my Faculties and Will 
 To this imperious Syren I laid down 
 The Empire of the World and of myfelf 
 At her proud Feet. Sleep all my ireful Powers ? 
 Or is the Magick of my Dotage fuch, 
 That I mull ftili make Suit to hear thofe Charms 
 That do increafe my Thraldom ? Wake, my Anger,
 
 334 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 For Shame break thro' this Lethargy, and appeal* 
 With ufual Terror, and enable me, 
 Since I wear not a Sword to pierce her Heart, 
 Nor have a Tongue to fay this, let her die, 
 Tho' 'tis done with a Fever-fliakcn Hand, 
 
 [Pulls out a Table Book* 
 To fign her Death : Affifl: me, great Minerva, 
 And vindicate thy Votary. So, ihe's now 
 Among the Lift of thofc I have profcrib'd, 
 And are, to free me of my Doubts and Fears, 
 To die to-morrow. 
 
 i Steph. That fame fatal Book 
 Was never drawn yet, but lbme Men of Rank 
 Were mark'd out for Deftruction. 
 
 Par then. I begin 
 To doubt myfelf. 
 
 Caf* Who waits there ? 
 
 Part hen. Cafar. 
 
 Ctf. So. 
 Theie, that command arm'd Troops, quake at my 
 
 Frowns, 
 And yet a Woman flights 'em. Where's the Wizard 
 We charg'd you to fetch in ? 
 
 Parthen. Ready to fuller 
 What Death you pleafe t' appoint him. 
 
 Cajl Bring him in. 
 
 Enter Afcletario, Tribunes arid Guard. 
 
 We'll qucftion him ourfelf. Now you that hold 
 Intelligence with the Stars, and dare prefix 
 The Day and Hour in which we are to part 
 W T ith Life and Empire, punctually foretelling 
 The Means and Manner of our violent End, 
 As you would purchafe Credit to your Art, 
 Refolve me, fince you are affur'd of us, 
 What Fate attends yourfclf ? 
 
 Afclet. I've had long lince 
 A certain Knowledge, and as fur e as thou
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 335 
 
 Shall die to-morrow, being the fourteenth of 
 The Kalends of OSober, the Hour five ; 
 'Spite of Prevention, this Carcafs fhall be 
 Torn and devour'd by Dogs, and let that itand 
 For a firm Prediction. 
 
 Ctf, May our Body, Wretch, 
 Find never nobler Sepulcher, if this 
 Fall ever on thee. Are we the great Difpofer 
 Of Life and Death, yet cannot mock the Stars 
 In luch a Trifle ? Hence with the Impoftor, 
 And having cut his Throat, eredt a Pile 
 Guarded with Soldiers, 'till his curfed Trunk 
 Be turn'd to Ames ; upon Forfeit of 
 Your Life, and theirs, perform it. 
 
 Afclet. 'Tis in vain ; 
 When what I have foretold is made apparent, 
 - - Tremble to think what follows. 
 
 Ccef. Drag him hence, 
 And do as I command you. 
 
 Sjthe Guard bear off Afcletario. 
 I was never 
 
 Fuller of Confidence, for, having got 
 The Victory of my Paffions, in my Freedom 
 From proud Domitia (who mall ceafe to live, 
 Since lhe difdains to love) I reft unmov'd ; 
 And, in Defiance of prodigious Meteors, 
 Chaldeans vain Predictions, jealous Fears 
 Of my near Friends and Freemen, certain Hate 
 Of Kindred and Alliance, or all Terrors 
 The Soldiers doubted Faith, or People's Rage 
 Can bring to make my Conftancv, I'm arm'd. 
 That fcrupulous Thing ft i I'd Conference is fear'd up, 
 And I infenfible of all my Actions, 
 For which by moral and religious Fools 
 I ftand condemn'd, as they had never been ; 
 And, fince I have fubdu'd triumphant Love, 
 I will not deify pale captive Fear, 
 Nor in a Thought receive it. For, till thou, 
 Wifeft Minerva, that from my firft Youth 
 Haft been my iblc Prote&refs, doth forfake mc,
 
 35 6 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Not Junius Rujlhus' threatned Apparition, 
 Nor what this Sooth fayer but ev'n now foretold, 
 (Being Things impoflible to human Reafon) 
 Shall in a Dream dilturb me. Bring my Couch there : 
 
 [Enter with Couch, 
 A fudden but a fecure Drowfinefs 
 Invites me to repofe myfelf. Let Mufick, 
 With fome choice Ditty, fecond it. In the mean Time, 
 ,Reil there, dear Book, which open'd, when I wake, 
 
 [Lm the Book under his Pillow, 'The Mtfuk and 
 Song, C&fax Jleeps. 
 Shall make fome ilecp for ever. 
 
 Enter Parthenius and Domitia. 
 
 Domitia, Write my Name 
 In his bloody Scroll, Parthenius ? The Fear's idle 
 He durfl not, could not. 
 
 Parthen, I can allure nothing ; 
 But I obferv'd, when you departed from him 
 After fome little Paflion, but much Fury, 
 He drew it out : Whofe Death he fign'd, I know not j 
 But in his Looks appear'd a Refolution 
 Of what before he flagger'd at. What he hath 
 Determin'd of is uncertain, but too foon 
 Will fall on you, or me, or both, or any, 
 His Pleafure known to the Tribunes and Centurions, 
 Who never ufc to enquire his Will, but ferve it. 
 Now if, out of the Confidence of your Power, 
 .(The bloody Catalogue being ilill about him) 
 As he fleeps you dare penile it, or remove it, 
 You may initrudt yourfelf, or what to fuffer, 
 Or how to crofs it. 
 
 Domitia, I would not be caught 
 With too much Confidence. By vour Leave, Sir. Ha ! 
 
 /J * 
 
 No Motion ! you lie unealy, Sir, 
 Let me mend your Pillow. 
 
 Tarthen, Have you it ? - 
 
 Domitia, 'Tis here. 
 
 Caf, Oh!
 
 THE kOMAN ACTOR. 337 
 
 Parthen* You have wak'dhirn : Softly, gracious Madam, 
 
 While ' 9 we are unknown, and then confult at Leifure* 
 
 [Exeunt Parthenius and Domitiai 
 
 A dreadful Mufick founding, enter Junius Rufticus and 
 Palphurius Sura, with bloody Swords, they wave them 
 over his Head* Casfar in his Sleep , troubled, feems t9 
 pray to the Image; they fcornfully take it away* 
 
 Gef. Defend me, Goddefs, or this horrid Dream* 
 Will force me to Diftractioiii Whither have 
 Thefe Furies borne thee ? Let me rife and follow ! 
 I am bath'd o'er with the cold Sweat of Death, 
 And am depriv'd of Organs to purfue 
 Thefe facrilegious Spirits. Am I at once 
 Robb'd of my Hopes and Being ? No, I live^-^* 
 
 [Rifts dijlratltdly* 
 Yes, live* and have Difcourfe, to know myfelf 
 Of Gods and Men forfaken* What Accufer 
 Within me cries aloud, I have dejerv'd it, 
 In being jujl to neither ? Who dares fpeak this ? 
 Am I not Cafar f How ! again repeat it ? 
 Prefumptuous Traitor ! thou fhalt die ; what Traitor? 
 He that hath been a Traitor to himfelf 
 And Hands convicted here. Yet who can fit 
 A competent Judge o'er Ca?far r Cefar. Yes, 
 Gefar by Cafar\ fentene'd, and muft fufTer ; 
 Minerva cannot fave him. Ha ! where is me ? 
 Where is my Goddefs ? Vaniih'd ! I am loft then. 
 No ; 'twas no Dream, but a moll: real Truth, 
 That Junius Rujiicus and Palphurius Sura, 
 Altho' their Ames were cart in the Sea, 
 Were by their Innocence made up again, 
 
 19 Means here until. M. M. Or, till we are pafl Difcovery. D, 
 g^> 2D Defend me, Geddefs, or this horrid Dream 
 Wilt force ),it to Dijltattion, &c. 
 There is a great Liker.efs between this Speech of Cafar's and that 
 of King Richard III. after the Ghofts vanifti : As it is pretty long 
 I fliall not let it down here, but refer the Reader to the fifth A6t oi 
 that Play, Scene the VII, where he will find it at large. 
 
 Vol. I. Z
 
 33S THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 And in corporeal Forms but nowappear'd, 
 
 Waving their bloody Swords above my Head, 
 
 As at their Deaths they threatned. And, methonght, 
 
 Minerva, ravifh'd hence, whifper'd that fhe 
 
 Was for my Blafphemies difarm'd by Jove, 
 
 And could no more protect me. Yes, 'twas fo, 
 
 His Thunder does confirm it, againft which, 
 
 [Thunder and Lightning, 
 Howe'er it fpare the Laurel, this proud Wreath 
 Is no AlTurance. Ha ! come you refolv'd 
 To be my Executioners ? 
 
 Enter three Tribunes. 
 
 * 
 i Trib. Allegiance 
 And Faith forbid that we fhould lift an Arm 
 Againft. your facred Head. 
 
 2 Trib. We rather fue 
 For Mercy. 
 
 3 Trib. And acknowledge that in Jufticc 
 Our Lives are forfeited for not performing 
 What Cafar charged us. 
 
 i Trib. Nor did we tranfgrefs it 
 In our Want of Will orXare ; for,, being but Men, 
 It could not be in us-to make Refinance 
 The Gods figuring againft us. 
 
 Caf. Speak, in what 
 Did they exprefs their Anger ? We will hear it, 
 But dare not fay undaunted. 
 
 i Trib. In brief thus, Sir I 
 The Sentence, given by your imperial Tongue 
 For the Aftrologer Afdetario y % Death, 
 With Speed was put into Execution. 
 r Caf. Well. 
 
 i 7n.ForhisThroatcut,hisLegsbound,and his Arms 
 Pinion'd behind his Back, the breathlefs Trunk 
 Was with all Scorn dragg'd to the Field of Mars, 
 And there, a Pile being rais'd of old dry Wood, 
 Smecr'd o'er with Oil and Brimftone, or what elfc 
 Could help to feed or to increafe the Fire, 
 The Carcafewas thrown on it; but no fooncr
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 339 
 
 The Stuff that was moft apt, began to flame ; 
 
 But fuddenly, to the Amazement of 
 
 The fearlefs Soldier, a fudden Flafh 
 
 Of Lightning breaking thro' the fcatter'd Clouds, 
 
 With fuch a horrid Violence forc'd its Pafiage ; 
 
 And, as difdaining all Heat but itfelf, 
 
 In a Moment quench'd the artificial Fire ; 
 
 And, before we could kindle it again, 
 
 A Clap of Thunder follow'd with fuch Noife, 
 
 As if then Jove, incens'd againil Mankind, 
 
 Had in his fecret Purpofes determin'd 
 
 An univerfal Ruin to the World. 
 
 This Horror pail, not at Deucalion 's Flood 
 
 Such a ftormy Show'r of Rain (and yet that Word is 
 
 Too narrow to exprefs it) was e'er feen. 
 
 Imagine rather, Sir, that with lefs Fury 
 
 The Waves rufh down the Cataracts of Nile ; 
 
 Or that the Sea, fpouted into the Air 
 
 By the angry Ore, endangering tall Ships 
 
 But failing near it, fo falls down again. 
 
 Yet here the Wonder ends not, but begins : 
 
 For, as in vain we labour'd to confume 
 
 The Wizard's Body, all the Dogs of Rome 
 
 Howling and yelling like to famifh'd Wolves, 
 
 Brake in upon us ; and, tho' Thoufands were 
 
 Kill'd in th' Attempt, fome did afcend the Pile, 
 
 And with their eager Fangs feiz'd on the Carcafs. 
 
 Car/, But have they torn it ? 
 
 1 Trib, Torn it and devour'd it. 
 
 Qef, I then am a dead Man, fince all Predictions 
 Aifure me I am loft. O, my lov'd Soldiers, 
 Your Emperor mull: leave you ; yet, however 
 I cannot grant myfelf a Ihort Reprieve, 
 I freely pardon you. The fatal Hour 
 Steals fall upon me. I muft die this Morning ; 
 By five, my Soldiers, that's the lateft Hour 
 You e'er mull: fee me living. 
 
 1 Irib. Jove avert it ! 
 In our Swords lies your Fate and we will guard it. 
 
 Z z
 
 540 THE ROMAN ACTOR, 
 
 Cef. O no, it cannot be ; it is decreed 
 Above, and by no Strength here to be alter 'd. 
 Let proud Mortality but look on Gefar, 
 Compafs'd of late with Armies, in his Eyes 
 Carrying both Life and Death, and in his Arms 
 Fathoming the Earth ; that would be ftil'd a God. 
 And is, for that Prefumption, call: beneath 
 The low Condition of a common Man, 
 Sinking with mine own Weight, 
 
 1 Trib, Do not for fake 
 Yourfelf, we'll never leave you, 
 
 2 Trib, We'll draw up 
 
 More Cohorts of your Guard if you doubt Treafon, 
 
 C<ef. They cannot fave me, The offended Gods, 
 That now fit Judges on me, from their Envy 
 Of my Power and Greatnefs here, confpire againft me, 
 
 i Trib, Endeavour to appeafe them. 
 
 Cef. 'Twill be fruitlefs : 
 I'm paft Hope of Remiiiion. Yet, could I 
 Decline this dreadful Hour of Five, thefe Terrors 
 That drive me to Defpair, would foon fly from me : 
 And could you but allure me 
 
 i Trib, Yes, Sir, 
 Or we'll fall with you, and make Rome the Urn 
 In which we'll mix our Afhes. 
 
 Caf. *Tis faid nobly : 
 I'm fomething comforted. Hqwe er, to die 
 Is the full Period of Calamity. [vw/, 
 
 SCENE II, 
 
 ^nter Paxthenius, Domitia, Julia, Casnis, Domitilla^ 
 Stephanos, Sijeius, and Entellus. 
 
 Tarthen, You fee we're all condemn'd; there's no 
 Evafion ; 
 We mull: do o,r fuffer. 
 
 Steph, But it muft be fudden \ 
 The leafl Delay is mortal. 
 
 Domitia. Would I were 
 A Man to give it Action,
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 341 
 
 DomltiUa. Could I make my Approaches, tho' my 
 Stature 
 Does promife little, I have a Spirit as daring 
 As hers that can reach higher, 
 
 Stepb. I will take 
 That Burthen from you, Madam. All the Art is, 
 To draw him from, the Tribunes that attend him ; 
 For, could you bring him but within my Sword's Reach, 
 The World Ihould owe her Freedom from a Tyrant 
 To Stephanos, 
 
 Sijeius, You fhall not mare alone 
 The Glory of a Deed that will endure 
 To all Pollerity. 
 
 Entel. I will put in 
 For a Part myielf, 
 
 Partben, Be refolute, and fland clofe, 
 I have conceiv'd a Way, and with the Hazard 
 Of my Life I'll pra&ife it to fetch him hither, 
 1 But then no trifling, 
 
 Stepb, We'll difpatch him, fear not ; 
 A dead Dog never bites, 
 
 farther?, Thus then at all, 
 
 [Parthenius goes off; the rejljtwd ajide. 
 
 Enter Caefar and the Tribunes* 
 
 Cffff How flow-pac'd a* thefe Minutes? in Ex- 
 tremes, 
 How miferable is the leaft Delay r 
 Could I imp Feathers to the Wings of Time, 
 Or with as little Eafe Z1 command the Sun 
 To fcourge his Courfers up Heav'n's Eaftern Hill, 
 Making the Hour I tremble at, paft recalling. 
 As I can move this Dial's Tongue' to Six, 
 My Veins and Arteries emptied with Fear, 
 
 2 This is an uncommon Mode of Exprdfion ; with the fame 
 Eaft is the Manner in which we fhould now exprefs this Idea j or 
 with as much Ea/c. M. M.
 
 34* THE ROMAN ACTOR. 
 
 Would fill and fwell again. How do I look ? 
 Do you yet fee Death about me ? 
 
 i Tribt Think not of him ; 
 There is no Danger : All thefe Prodigies 
 That do affright you, rife from natural Caufes ; 
 And, tho' you do afcribe them to yourfelf, 
 Had you ne'er been, had happened. 
 
 C<ef. 'Tis well faid, 
 Exceeding well, brave Soldier. Can it be 
 That I, that feel myfclf in Health and Strength, 
 Should ftill believe I am fo near my End, 
 And have my Guards about me ? Perifh all 
 Predictions ; I grow conftant they are falfe, 
 And built upon Uncertainties. 
 
 i Trib, This is right ; 
 Now Cefars heard like Gefir* 
 
 Caf. We will to 
 The Camp, and, having there confirm'd the Soldier 
 With a large Donative, and Jncreafe of Pay, 
 Some mall I fay no more. 
 
 JLnter Parthenius, 
 
 Tarthen. All Happinefs, 
 Security, long Life, attend upon 
 The Monarch of the World. 
 
 Caf. Thy Looks are cheerful. 
 
 Tarthen. And my Relation full of Joy and Wonder, 
 Why is the Care of your imperial Body, 
 My Lord, neglected ? the fear'd Hour being pad 
 In which your Life was threaten'd, 
 
 Caf. Is't paft Five ? 
 
 Tarthen. Paft Six, upon my Knowledge, and in Jufticc 
 Your Clock-mafter mould die, that hath deferr'd 
 Your Peace fo long. There is a Poft new 'lighted, 
 That brings afiur'd Intelligence, that your Legions 
 In Syria have won a glorious Day, 
 And much enlarg'd your Empire, I have kept him 
 Conceal'd that you might firft partake the Pleafure 
 In Private, and the Senate from yourfelf
 
 THE ROMAN ACTOR. 343 
 
 Be taught to underftand how much they owe 
 To you and to your Fortune. 
 
 Cef. Hence, pale Fear, then : 
 Lead me, Parthenius, 
 
 1 Trib. Shall we wait on you ? 
 Cef. No. 
 
 After Lofles, Guards are ufeful. Know your Diftance. 
 
 [Exeunt Caefar and Parthenius. 
 
 2 Trib, How ftrangely Hopes delude Men ! as I live, 
 The Hour is not yet come. 
 
 1 Trib. Howe'er, we are 
 To pay our Duties and obferve the Sequel. 
 
 [Exeunt Tribunes. 
 
 Enter C^far and Parthenius! 
 
 ' 
 
 Domitia. I hear him coming. Be conflant. 
 Cef. Where, Parthenius^ is this glad MeiTenger ? 
 Steph. Make the Door fall. Here, a Meifenger of 
 
 Horror ! 
 Cef. How ! betray'd ? 
 Domitia. No, taken, Tyrant. 
 C<ef My Domitia in the Confpiracy ? 
 Parthen. Behold this Book. 
 
 Cef, Nay, then I am loft. Yet, tho* I am unarm'd, 
 I'll not fall poorly. [Overthrows Stephanos; 
 
 Steph. Help me ! 
 
 Entel. Thus, and thus. [Stabs Czefar. 
 
 Sijeius. Ara you fo long a falling ? 
 C<ef. 'Tis done 'tis done bafely. [Falls and dies. 
 
 Parthen, This for my Father's Death. 
 Domitia. This for my Paris, 
 Julia. This for thy Inceft. 
 Domitilla. This for thy Abufe of Domitilla. 
 
 [They fever ally flab him* 
 
 Enter Tribunes. 
 
 1 Trib. Force the Doors. O Mars! 
 What have vou done ?
 
 344 THE ROMAN ACTOR, 
 
 Parthen. What Rome fhall give us Thanks far* 
 
 Steph. Difpatch'd a Morifteh 
 
 i Trib. Yet he was our Prince^ 
 However wicked ; and in you this Murther* 
 Which whofoe'er fucceeds him will revenge : 
 Nor will we that ferv'd under his Command 
 Confent that fuch a Monfter as thyfelf, 
 (For in thy Wickednefs Augtfta!* Title 
 Hath quite forfook thee) thou that vvert the Ground 
 Of all thefe Mifchiefs, mail go hence unpunim'd< 
 Lay Hands on her, and drag her to Sentence ; 
 We will refer the Hearing to the Senate, 
 Who may at their belt Leifure cenfure you. 
 Take up his Body : He in Death hath paid 
 For all his Cruelties. Here's the Difference ; 
 Good Kings are mourn 'd for after Life ; but ill> 
 And fuch as govern'd only by their Will, 
 And not their Reafon, unlamented fall : 
 INogood Man's Tear lhed at their Funeral. 
 
 \_Flourijh* Exeunt omnes* 
 
 This Tragedy was alfo revived by BctttrUm t but nor, I fliould fup- 
 pofe, for the fame Caufe that induced him to revive the Bondman ; 
 tor tho'it be an eloquent and very poetical Compofition, that affords 
 much Delight in the Reading"; the Epifodes in it, if I may pro- 
 perly <rH <hem fo, muft render it rather tedious in the Reprefenta- 
 xion. The very honourable Light in which it places his own Profef- 
 fion, was probably Bctttrton\ Motive for felecling it. 
 
 It would give me much Satisfaction to fee what Altera- 
 tions that great A&ojr had made in thefe Plays, and in what Man- 
 ner he had adapted them to the Tafte of his Audience ; but probably 
 ihey never were printed in that Form. M. M. 
 
 The Epifodes of the Roman Ador, as the Editor terms them , 
 are doubtlefs Incumbrances on the main Plot or Fable of the Tra- 
 gedy ; but ail the Hiftorical Plays written in our Author's Tims 
 partake of the fame Fault ; Sbokefprare alone contrives to make 
 his Epifodes more interefting aad dramatick. D. 
 
 End' of the First Volume. 
 
 s
 
 UNIVERSITY OP CALIFORNIA 
 
 AT 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 T .1 R P A DV
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 
 ? 
 
 flBFB fn'">- 
 
 
 Mm 
 
 
 Form L9-Series 444 

 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A A 000 069 737 5