ated, been some cause of alienation on the part of this nobleman. Yet, whatever it was, it did no discredit to Massinger, who writes as one that had given no just cause of offence. Fortunately for him, he found a better patron in the younger than the elder brother. What pecuniary reward he received, does not appear; but it must have been considerable, or he would not, when speaking of his obligations, have said, at a subsequent period:

"Mine being more

Than they could owe, who since or heretofore
Have labour'd with exalted lines to raise
Brave piles, or rather pyramids of praise,
To Pembroke and his family."

But no advantage that he derived from this nobleman was sufficient to render unnecessary his writing for the stage. Yet he had no liking for the profession: he was, as he truly said, compelled to remain in it, when He wrote with his inclination was averse from it. great facility; - his pieces generally amounting to two In the whole, the number amounted to every year. thirty-eight, of which more than half have perished. It might have been supposed that a writer so prolific, and evidently so popular, would require no individual Successful patron. Such, however, was not the fact. dramas were then much less profitable than we should Whether sold at once to the managers, or suppose. acted for the author's benefit, one seldom, if ever, brought If we estimore than 20%., and in general it was less. mate the two dramas annually at 30%., we shall not be below the truth: But he might, if the managers gave consent, publish them after they had been acted. The usual price of a drama from the booksellers was, in Shakespear's time, 20 nobles, or somewhat less than 71. From 1616 to 1640, when Massinger died, it might be a little more; but it certainly never exceeded 107. Add the dedication fee, which was 40s., and we shall per

By the death of his elder brother without male issue, Montgomery the title and estates of Pembroke.

*See before. n. 256.

disconsolate brother, accompanied by his servant, Gazet, and his confessor, Francisco, goes in search of her, with the intention of redeeming her if she can be snatched from the lust of her owner. To lull suspicion, no less than for his own security, he assumes the disguise of a merchant, and opens a shop, while Francisco inquires after the lost Paulina. After some time, the father returns, and Vitelli eagerly says:

"O welcome, sir! stay of my steps in this life,
And guide to all my blessed hopes hereafter.
What comforts, sir? Have your endeavours prosper'd?
Have we tired Fortune's malice with our sufferings?

Is she at length, after so many frowns,

Pleased to vouchsafe one cheerful look upon us?

"Fran. You give too much to fortune and your passions, O'er which a wise man, if religious, triumphs.

That name fools worship; and those tyrants, which

We arm against our better part, our reason,

May add, but never take from our afflictions.

"Vitel. Sir, as I am a sinful man, I cannot

But like one suffer.

"Fran. I exact not from you

A fortitude insensible of calamity,

To which the saints themselves have bow'd, and shown
They are made of flesh and blood; all that I challenge
Is manly patience. Will you, that were train'd up

In a religious school, where divine maxims,
Scorning comparison with moral precepts,

Were daily taught you, bear your constancy's trial,
Not like Vitelli, but a village nurse,

With curses in your mouth, tears in your eyes?

How poorly it shows in you.

"Vitel. I am school'd, sir,

And will hereafter, to my utmost strength,

Study to be myself.

"Fran. So shall you find me

Most ready to assist you; neither have I

Slept in your great occasions: since I left you,
I have been at the viceroy's court, and press'd

As far as they allow a Christian entrance:

And something I have learn'd, that may concern
The purpose of this journey.

"Vitel. Dear sir, what is it?

"Fran. By the command of Asambeg, the viceroy, The citu swolls with barbarous noïn and pride.

Were, in another name, to play the pander
To the viceroy's loose embraces, and cry aim!
While he, by force or flattery, compels her
To yield her fair name up to his foul lust,
And, after, turn apostata to the faith
That she was bred in.

"Fran. Do but give me hearing,
And you shall soon grant how ridiculous
A wise man never
This childish fury is.

Attempts impossibilities; 't is as easy

For any single arm to quell an army,

As to effect your wishes.

We come hither

To learn Paulina's fate, and to redeem her:

Leave your revenge to heaven: I oft have told you

Of a relick that I gave her, which has power,

If we may credit holy men's traditions,

To keep the owner free from violence:
and does preserve
This on her breast she wears,
The virtue of it, by her daily prayers.
So, if she fall not by her own consent,
Which it were sin to think, I fear no force.

Be, therefore, patient; keep this borrow'd shape,
Till time and opportunity present us

With some fit means to see her; which perform'd,
I'll join with you in any desperate course

For her delivery.

"Vitel. You have charm'd me, sir,

And I obey in all things: pray you, pardon
The weakness of my passion.

"Fran. And excuse it.

Be cheerful, man; for know that good intents
Are, in the end, crown'd with as fair events."

"Pious,

sagacious, charitable, disinterested, and without ostentation." he soon obtains a claim on our attention, His are indeed lessons of wisdom, no less than of virtue.

The next scene introduces us to Donusa, the beautiful niece of Amurath, who is in Tunis, to receive She is a true misbeher lover, the basha of Aleppo. liever. Though innocent in deed, she is not so in thought: she is also capricious, haughty, overbearing. She just condescends to glance at the basha kneeling at her feet; to hope; and in a