« PreviousContinue »
And lose not one in thousands, they're dispers'd
A Horn is heard.
Leon. What was't disturb'd my joy?
Cle. Did you not hear,
Hip. What, my excellent consort ?.
Leon. Bless my joy,
Cle. Now since- -lately,
Cle. Hark! louder and nearer.
(Leonides goes in.) Hip. Now let them come, and spare not.
Enter Duke, Courtiers, Attendants, as if hunting.
ingly. Hip. 'Tis he, but what of that? alas ! take heed, sir; Your care will overthrow us.
Cle. Come, it shall not.
Cle. Prithee, proceed;
Duke. Why, how should I believe this? Look, he's
Court. Aye, he may laugh, my lord;
Duke. If a contempt can be so neatly carried,
Cle. My lov'd lord
Duke. Not mov'd a whit!
call a father's funeral chearful, Without wrong done to duty or my love. Duke. It seems then you take pleasure in these walks,
Cle. Which is a kind of grave delight, my lord. Duke. And I've small cause, Cleanthes, to affor
you The least delight that has a name.
Cle. My lord
Duke. In your excess of joy you have express'd
1st Court. Now, now, his colour ebbs and flows.
Hip. Oh! who shall bring food to the poor Speak somewhat, good sir, or we are lost for ever.
(Apart to Cleanthes.) Cle. Oh! you did wondrous ill to call me again. There are not words to help us. If I intreat, 'Tis found; that will betray us worse than silence. 'ithee, let heaven alone, and let's say nothing.
(Apart to Hippolita.) Ist Court. You have struck them dumb, my
Duke. 'Tis too apparent.
Cle. Ha !
2d Court. He has the lapwing's cunning, I'm afraid, my
lord, That cries most when she is farthest from the nest.
Cle. Oh! we are betrayed.""
THE TRAGEDY OF PHILIP CHABOT, ADMIRAL OF FRANCE. BY GEORGE CHAPMAN, AND JAMES
The Admiral is accused of treason, a criminal process is in
stituted against him, and his faithful servant Allegre is put on the rack to make him discover : his innocence is at length established by the confession of his enemies; but the disgrace of having been suspected for a traitor by his royal Master, sinks so deep into him, that he falls into a mortal sickness.
ADMIRAL. ALLEGRE, supported between two.
Al. Though some change appear
!!! There is an exquisiteness of moral sensibility, making one to gush out tears of delight, and a poetical strangeness in all the improbable circumstances of this wild play, which are unlike any thing in the dramas which Massinger wrote alone. The pathos is of a subtler edge. Middleton and Rowley, who assisted in this play, had both of them finer geniuses than their associate.
Were all my joys essential, and so mighty,
Al. Good my lord, let not
soul with. That paleness, and the other forms you wear, Would well become a guilty admiral, one Lost to his hopes and honour, not the man Upon whose life the fury of injustice, Arm’d with fierce lightning and the power of thunder, Can make no breach. I was not rack'd till now. There's more death in that falling eye, than all Rage ever yet brought forth. What accident, sir, can
blast, Can be so black and 'fatal, to distract The calm, the triumph, that should sit upon Your noble brow: misfortune could have no Time to conspire with fate, since you were rescued By the great arm of Providence; nor can Those garlands, that now grow about your forehead, With all the poison of the world be blasted.
Adm. Allegre, thou dost bear thy wounds upon thee In wide and spacious characters, but in The volume of my sadness thou dost want An eye to read. An open force hath torn Thy manly sinews, which some time may cure.