THE NICE VALOUR;

OR,

THE PASSIONATE MADMAN.

A COMEDY.

The Coinmendatory Verses by Gardiner ascribe this Play to Fletcher; the Prologue and Epilogue speak of the Poet singly; Seward (see note 3 on the Commendatory Poems) supposes it to be Beaumont's. It was first printed in the folio of 1647; and hath never been altered, that we are able to discover.

Ir grows in fashion of late, in these days,
To come and beg a suffrage to our plays':
'Faith, gentlemen, our poet ever writ [wit,
Language so good, mix'd with such sprightly
He made the theatre so sovereign

With his rare scenes, he scorn'd this crouch-
ing vein.

We stabb'd him with keen daggers, when we
pray'd

Hi write a preface to a play well made.
He could not write these toys; 'twas easier far
To bring a felon to appear at th' bar

So much he hated baseness; which this day,
His scenes will best convince you of in's play.

A suffrage to our plays.] First folio exhibits sufferance.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Enter Duke, Shamont, and Four Gentlemen.

Duke. SHAMONT, welcome! we have

miss'd thee long,

Tho' absent but two days: I hope your sports
Answer your time and wishes.

Sham. Very nobly, sir;

We found game worthy your delight, my lord,
It was so royal.

Duke. I've enough to hear on't;
Prithee bestow't upon me in discourse.

1 Gent. What is this gentleman, coz? you are a courtier,

Therefore know all their insides.

2 Gent. No further than the taffaty goes,
good coz,
[part
indeed the best
Marry, thus far
this one man's

For the most part, which is
Of the most general inside.
I can with boldness speak
character,

And upon honour pass it for a true one:
He has that strength of manly merit in him,
That it exceeds his sovereign's power of grac-
ing;

He's faithfully true to valour, that he hates
The man from Cæsar's time, or further off,
That ever took disgrace unreveng'd;
And if he chance to read his abject story,
He tears his memory out, and holds it virtuous
Not to let shame have so much life amongst

us;

There is not such a curious piece of courage
Amongst man's fellowship, or one so jealous
Of Honour's loss, or Reputation's glory:
There's so much perfect of his growing story!
1 Gent. 'Twould make one dote on Virtue,
as you tell it.
[it, coz.

2 Ġent. I have told it to much loss, believe

3 Gent. How the duke graces him! What is he, brother?

Gent. Don't you yet know him? a vainglorious coxcomb,

As proud as he that fell for't'!
Set but aside his valour2, no virtue,
Which is indeed not fit for any courtier,
And we his fellows are as good as he,
Perhaps as capable of favour too,
For one thing or another, if 'twere look'd into.
Give me a man, were I a sovereign now,
'Has a good stroke at tennis, and a stiff one;
Can play at æquinoctium with the line,
As even as the thirteenth of September,
When day and night lie in a scale together!
Or, may I thrive as I deserve at billiards;
No otherwise at chess, or at primero !
These are the parts requir'd; why not ad-
vanc'd?
[lent pleasure;
Duke. Trust me, it was no less than excel-
And I'm right glad 'twas thine.-How fares
our kinsman?

Who can resolve us best?

[bounds,

1 Gent. I can, my lord.
Duke. There, if I had a pity without
It might be ill bestow'd: a man so lost
In the wild ways of passion, that he's sensible
Of nought but what torments him!

1 Gent. True, my lord;

He runs thro' all the passions of mankind,
And shifts 'em strangely too: one while in love;
And that so violent, that, for want of business,
He'll court the very 'prentice of a laundress,
Tho' she have kib'd heels; and in's melan-
choly again,
[fairer

He will not brook an empress, tho' thrice
Than ever Maud was3, or higher-spirited
Than Cleopatra, or your English countess.
Then, on a sudden he's so merry again,

As proud as he that fell for't;] i. e. As proud as Lucifer, who fell through pride.

2 Set but aside his valour no virtue:

Which is indeed not fit for any courtier.] The old folio points thus,

Set but aside his valour, no virtue

Which is indeed, not fit for any courtier,

And we his fellows, &c.

Seward.

This latter is better sense, and therefore restored to the text, but as the construction from the position of the words is a little stiff, and the measure not compleat, perhaps the original might have run,

Set but aside his valour, which indeed

No virtue is, not fit for any courtier.

Seward.

.Seward's reading is as stiff as the other. There seems to be a word or two dropped in the preceding line, which has more obscured the passage; the sense of which scems to have been to this effect:

As proud as he that fell for't! HE POSSESSES,
Set but aside his valour, no virtue;

Which (i. e. his valour) is indeed not fit for any courtier, &c.
It is very common with our authors to refer to a remote antecedent.

3

Maud.] The empress Maud, daughter of Henry I. and mother of Henry II.

R.

Out

Out-laughs a waiting-woman before her first child;

And, turning of a hand, so angry

H' has almost beat the Northern fellow+ blind,

[my lord,

That is for that use only; if that mood hold,
H had need of a fresh man; I'll undertake
He shall bruise thee a-month.

Duke. I pity him dearly;

And let it be your charge, with his kind bro-
ther,

To see his moods observ'd: let every passion
Be fed ev'n to a surfeit, which in time

May breed a loathing! let him have enough
Of every object, that his sense is rapt with!
And being once glutted, then the taste of folly
Will come into disrelish.
[Exit.

1 Gent. I shall see

Your charge, my lord, most faithfully effected.
And how does noble Shamont?

Sham. Never ill, man,

Until I hear of baseness; then I sicken:
I am the healthfull'st man i' th' kingdom else.
Enter Lapet.

1 Gent. Be arm'd then for a fit! here
comes a fellow

Will make you sick at heart, if baseness do't.
Sham. Let me be gone! What is he?
1 Gent. Let me tell you first;

It can be but a qualm. Pray stay it out, sir!
Come, you've borne more than this.

Sham. Borne? never any thing

That was injurious.

1 Gent. The twinges by the nostril he snuff's And holds it the best remedy for sneezing. Sham. Away!

1 Gent. H'has been thrice switch'd from seven o'clock till nine;

[fast, Yet, with a cart-horse stomach, fell to breakForgetful of his smart.

Sham. Nay, the disgrace on't; There is no smart but that: base things are felt [know you not; More by their shames than hurts.-Sir, I But that you live an injury to Nature, I'm heartily angry with you.

Lapet. Pray give your blow or kick, and
begone then;

For I ne'er saw you before; and indeed
Have nothing to say to you, for I know you

4 H' has almost beat the Northern fellow blind, That is for that use only.] This is probably an allusion to Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, the hero of the North, who ascended the throne in 1611. He was one of the greatest and most successful princes which Europe hath seen, either before or since his time. R. 5 His relish.] We have no doubt but this is corrupt, and that we ought to read, changing only one letter, DIsrelish.

Take heed of rash repentance;] i. e. Repentance on account of rashness. I should not have thought an explanation necessary, but that Mr. Sympson would have discarded the word, and read acquaintance for repentance. Seward.

7 I would not, sir,

Unless 'twere offer'd me; and if from an enemy,

I'd be loth to deny it from a stranger.] The conjunctive particle and in the middle line seems plainly to denote the loss of some sentence previous to it, and the humour seems greatly to suffer by that loss. As to the sentiment, it may, I believe, be restored, but as several expressions will give it, it is impossible to guess how near we shall come to the old reading. I propose,

I would not, sir,

Unless 'twere offer'd me; if from a friend

I'd take't in friendship, and if from an enemy
I would be loth to deny it from a stranger.

Seward.

Seward makes this proposed interpolation: but the old text gives very complete sense; and there is no saying where arbitrary variations would end, if insertions, omissions, or altera

tions,

tions were made, whenever the critick thinks it might improve the passages under his consideration. An editor should give the author's text, not his own.

3 You are so exact a work: love light things somewhat, sir.] It seems probable that worth was the true word instead of work, as Shamont calls the lady before-lovely worth, and one of the gentlemen in the first page of the play says of Shamont,

There is not such a curious piece of courage.

Notwithstanding this, work being good sense may still be the true reading. The advice to Shamont to love light things a little, is to laugh and divert himself at the absurdities and phrensies of men. Mr. Sympson thought it obscure, and that it wanted explanation. Seward. Seward seems mistaken in supposing Shumont calls the lady lovely wORTH: he tells her the sight is lovely [i. e. well] worth sixpence:

-You ha' not seen the like, madam;

A monster worth your sixpence, LOVELY worth.

? That loves a soldier far above a mistress,

Thou excellently faithful to'em both.] The emendation here of thou to tho' (although the