Bakam. Send for The prisoner, and give us leave to argue. [Exeunt Bakam and Syana. Enter Ruy Dias, Emanuel, Christophero, and Pedro, with Soldiers. Ruy. Come on nobly, And let the fort play still! we're strong enough To look upon 'em, and return at pleasure: It may be on our view they will return him. Chris. We will return 'em such thanks else shall make 'em Scratch where it itches not. Eman. How the people stare! And some cry, some pray, and some curse heartily; But it is the king Enter Piniero, Soza, and Soldiers, with the Governor. Pin. No, no; go on! Look here; your god, your prophet! King. How came he taken? Pin. I conjur'd for him, king: I am a sure cur at an old blind prophet. I'll hunt you such a false knave admirably53! A terrier I: I earth'd him, and then snapt him. [we stole him, Soza. Saving the rev'rence of your grace, E'en out of the next chamber to you. Pin. Come, come; begin, king! Begin this bloody matter when you dare! And yet I scorn my sword should touch the rascal: [art thou? I'll tear him thus before you. Ha! what [Pulls his beard and hair off. King. How's this? Art thou a prophet? Ruy. Come down, princes! [Armusia! King. We are abus'd!-Oh, my most dear Off with his chains! And now, my noble sister, Rejoice with me; I know you're pleas'd as I [don governor, am. ta'en orders? Pin. This is a precious prophet! Why, What make you here? how long have you [this mischief? Ruy. Why, what a wretch art thou to work T'assume this holy shape to ruin honour, Honour and chastity? Enter King, and all, from above. [my doom. But Fortune play'd the slut. Come, give me And here I stay your sentence. King. Take her, friend! (You've half persuaded me to be a Christian) And with her all the joys, and all the blessings! Why, what dream have we dwelt in? [ye! And all the happiness of heart dwell with Children as sweet and noble as their pa rents Pin. And kings at least! Arm. Good sir, forget my rashness; And, noble princess 54, for I was once angry, And, out of that, might utter some distemper, Think not it is my nature. Syana. Your joy's ours, sir; And nothing we find in you but most noble. King. To prison with this dog! there let him howl, And, if he can repent, sigh out his villainies! 52 A fair arm guide the gunner.] Amended by Sympson. 53 I'll haunt ye.] Surely for haunt, we should here read hunt. Sympson. 54 And noble Princesse.] So the first folio; the second, and octavo 1711, Princesses; Seward and Sympson, Princes. The first copy surely is right, Armusia meaning to apologize for his passionate language, in a former scene, to Quisara. And THE WOMAN'S PRIZE; OR, THE TAMER TAM'D. A COMEDY. This Comedy appears to be one of the performances which Fletcher wrote, without the assistance of Beaumont. The Commendatory Verses by Gardiner and Lovelace, as well as the Prologue, ascribe it to him alone. We believe an alteration of part of it was acted about twenty years ago at Drury-Lane Theatre, as an After-Piece, for the benefit of the late Mrs. Pritchard, or one of her family. SCENE I. ACT I. Mor. Methinks now, He's not so terrible as people think him. Soph. This old thief flatters, out of mere devotion, To please the father for his second daughter. Tra. But shall he have her? Soph. Yes, when I have Rome: And yet the father's for him. Mor. I'll assure you, I hold him a good man. Soph. Yes, sure, a wealthy; But whether a good woman's man is doubtful. Tra. 'Would 'twere no worse! Mor. What tho' his other wife, Out of her most abundant soberness, Out of her daily hue and cries upon him, (For sure she was a rebel) turn'd his temper, And forc'd him blow as high as she; does't follow He must retain that long-since-buried tempest, To this soft maid? Soph. I fear it. Tra. So do I too; And so far, that if God had made me woman, And his wife that must be Mor. What would you do, sir? Tra. I'd learn to eat coals with an angry cat, [him, And spit fire at him; I would, to prevent Do all the ramping, roaring tricks, a whore, Being drunk, and tumbling ripe, would tremble at: There is no safety else, nor moral wisdom, Soph. So I should think too. [first wife Tra. For yet the bare remembrance of his (I tell you on my knowledge, and a truth too) Will make him start in's sleep, and very often Cry out for cudgels, colestaves, any thing; Hiding his breeches, out of fear her ghost Should walk, and wear 'em yet. Since his first marriage, He is no more the still Petruchio, Soph. He's a good fellow, And on my word I love him; but to think Tra. His very frown3, if she but say her Enter Jaques, with a pot of Wine. Mor. He loves her most extremely, And so long 'twill be honey-moon. Now, You are a busy man, I'm sure. Jaques. Yes, certain; This old sport must have eggs. Soph. Not yet this ten days. Rosemary.] See note 33 on the Elder Brother. 2 To prevent him.] i. e. To be beforehand with him, to out-do him. 3 His very frown [Jaques! -makes him tinder.] This very unintelligible passage, we have no assistance from any authority to set right: what stuff is it to say, that Petruchio's own frown, if his wife says her prayers, &c. makes him (Petruchio) tinder. If I may venture to conjecture what the poet did write, it should be thus: her very sound, or, as it might be wrote nearer to the trace of the letters in Chaucer's manner, her very sown, i. e. voice, and then the passage would be sense. Sympson. We think some words are lost: his very frown, is a proper beginning of a reply to the foregoing speech. The last speech ending with an imperfect verse, Tranio's might have begun with, His Oh, no! very frown would throw her into fils; And ev'n her voice, if she but, &c. We do not presume to give the additional words as those lost, but only as supplying something like the sense of them. Jaques. |