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Thankful for such a bounty! yet he dreams not I shall forget civility of manners,

Of this deceit; but let me die in speaking,

If I repute not my success more happy
Than any earthly blessing. Oh! sweet uncle,
Rejoice with me; I am a faithful convert,
And will redeem the stains of a foul name
By love and true obedience.

Mart. Force of passion

Shows me a child again. Do, Levidolche,
Perform thy resolutions; those perform'd,
I have been only steward for your welfare,
You shall have all between ye.

Lev. Join with me, sir;

Imagining you tender a false tribute, Or him to whom you tender it, a counterfeit. [She rises.

Mal. My lord, you use a borrow'd bravery,! Not suiting fair constructions: may your fortunes

Mount higher than can apprehension reach 'em!
Yet this waste kind of antic sovereignty
Unto a wife who equals every best
Of your deserts, achievements, or prosperity,
Bewrays a barrenness of noble nature:
Let upstarts exercise uncomely roughness,

Our plot requires much speed; we must be Clear spirits to the humble will be humble.

earnest.

I'll tell you what conditions threaten danger, Unless you intermediate; let us hasten,

For fear we come too late.

Mart. As thou intendest

A virtuous honesty, I am thy second

To any office, Levidolche witty,1

My niece, my witty niece.

Lev. Let's slack no time, sir.

ACT V.-SCENE II.

You know your wife, no doubt.

Aur. 'Cry ye mercy, gentlemen!

Belike you come to tutor a good carriage,
Are expert in the nick on't: we shall study
Instructions quaintly' wife,' you said-agreed.
Keep fair, and stand the trial.

Spin. Those words raise

A lively soul in her, who almost yielded

[Exeunt. To faintness and stupidity; I thank ye:

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Though prove what judge you will, till I can
purge
Objections which require belief and conscience,
I have no kindred, sister, husband, friend,
Or pity for my plea.

Mal. Call ye this welcome?
We are mistook, Castanna.
Cast. Oh! my lord,
Other respects were promised.
Aur. Said ye, lady,

No kindred, sister, husband, friend?'
Spin. Nor name;

With this addition-I disclaim all benefit

Of mercy from a charitable thought;
If one or all the subtleties of malice,
If any engineer of faithless discord,
If supposition for pretence in folly,
Can point out, without injury to goodness,
A likelihood of guilt in my behaviour,
Which may declare neglect in every duty,
Required, fit, or exacted.

Aur. High and peremptory!

The confidence is masculine.

Mel. Why not?

An honourable cause gives life to truth,
Without control.

Spin. I can proceed; that tongue,
-Whose venom, by traducing spotless honour,
Hath spread th' infection, is not more mine

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1 witty-knowing, wise. Anglo-Saxon, witán-to know.

of manner.

1 borrow'd bravery-feigned bravado or brusqueness 2 carriage-conduct, bearing.

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I shall touch nearer home: behold these hairs,
Great masters of a spirit, yet they are not
By winter of old age quite hid in snow;
Some messengers of time, I must acknowledge,
Amongst them took up lodging; when we first
Exchang'd our faiths in wedlock, I was proud
I did prevail with one whose youth and beauty
Deserv'd a choice more suitable in both.
Advancement to a fortune could not court
Ambition, either on my side, or hers;
Love drove the bargain, and the truth of love
Confirm'd it, I conceiv'd. But disproportion
In years, amongst the married, is a reason
For change of pleasures: whereto I reply,
Our union was not forced, 'twas by consent;
So then the breach in such a case appears
Unpardonable:-say your thoughts.

Spin. My thoughts

In that respect are as resolute as yours.
The same; yet herein evidence of frailty
Deserv'd not more a separation,

Than doth charge of disloyalty objected
Without or ground or witness: women's faults
Subject to punishments, and men's applauded,
Prescribe no laws in force.

Aurel. Are you so nimble?

Mal. A soul sublimed from dross by com

petition,

Such as is mighty Auria's famed, descends From its own sphere, when injuries, profound

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1 not. This word is accidentally omitted in the quarto. The context is so obscure, that I strongly suspect the mission of a line in this speech.-WEBER.

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Mal. Unthought of and unlook'd for! Spin. My ever honoured lord. Aurel. This marriage frees Each circumstance of jealousy.

Aur. Make no scruple,

Castanna, of the choice; 'tis firm and real:
Why else have I so long with tameness nourish'd
Report of wrongs, but that I fix'd on issue
Of my desires? Italians use not dalliance,
But execution: herein I degenerated
From custom of our nation; for the virtues
Of my Spinella rooted in my soul,

Yet common form of matrimonial compliments,
Short-liv'd as are their pleasures. Yet in sooth,
My dearest, I might blame your causeless absence,
To whom my love and nature were no strangers:
But being in your kinsman's house, I honour
His hospitable friendship, and must thank it.
Now lasting truce on all hands.

Aurel. You will pardon

A rash and over-busy curiosity.

Spin. It was to blame; but the success remits it.

Adur. Sir, what presumptions formerly have grounded

Opinion of unfitting carriage to you,
On my part I shall faithfully acquit
At easy summons.

Mal. You prevent the nicety;

Use your own pleasure.

BENATZI rushes in with his sword drawn, followed by LEVIDOLCHE and MARTINO.

Aurel. What's the matter?

Aur. Matter?

Ben. Adurni and Malfato found together!

Now for a glorious vengeance.

Lev. Hold, oh, hold him!

Aurel. This is no place for murder; yield thy sword.

Aur. Yield it, or force it; [BEN. is disarmed.] set you up your shambles

Of slaughter in my presence?
Adur. Let him come.

Mal. What can the ruffian mean?

Ben. I am prevented;

Trel. Futelli

The temple or the chamber of the duke, Had else not proved a sanctuary. Lord, Thou hast dishonourably wrong'd my wife.

Hath wean'd her from this pair.

Adur. Thy wife! I know not her nor thee. Aur. Fear nothing.

Lev. Yes, me you know. Heaven has a gentle

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Piero. Stand forth, stout lovers.

Trel. Top and top-gallant pair-and for his pains,

She will have him or none. He's not the richest I' th' parish; but a wit. I say Amen, Because I cannot help it.

Amor. Tith no matter.

Aur. We'll remedy the penury of fortune; They shall with us to Corsica. Our cousin Must not despair of means, since 'tis believed Futelli can deserve a place of trust.

Fut. You are in all unfellow'd.

Amor. Withly thpoken.
Piero. Think on Piero, sir.
Aur. Piero, yes;

But what of these two pretty ones?
Ful. I'll follow

The ladies, play at cards, make sport, and whistle,
My purse shall bear me out: a lazy life
Is scurvy and debosh'd; fight you abroad,
And we'll be gaming, whilst you fight, at home.
Run high, run low, here is a brain can do't;
But for my martial brother Don, pray ye make him
A-what d'ye call't-a setting dog,-a sentinel;
I'll mend his weekly pay.

Guz. He shall deserve it.

Vouchsafe employment, honourable-
Ful. Marry,

The Don's a generous Don.
Aur. Unfit to lose him.

Command doth limit us short time for revels;
We must be thrifty in them. None, I trust,
Repines at these delights, they are free and

harmless:

After distress at sea, the dangers o'er, Safety and welcomes better taste ashore.

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THOMAS HEYWOOD.

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[Or this, the most voluminous dramatic writer in the English, and probably in any language, almost nothing is known for certain, but that he had, as he himself informs us, 'an entire hand, or at least a main finger,' in two hundred and twenty plays. He wrote, besides, several prose works, all the while attending to his duties as an actor. From two of his works we learn that he was a native of Lincolnshire; and Cartwright, in his dedication to The Actor's Vindication-a posthumous edition of Heywood's Apology for Actors-states that the author was a Fellow of Peter House, Cambridge.

From Henslowe's papers it is ascertained that Heywood wrote for the stage as early as 1596; and Heywood himself, writing in 1615, and speaking of his first published drama, The Death of Robert Earl of Huntingdon, which appeared in 1601, says that it was written 'many years since in my infancy of judgment, in this kind of poetry, and my first practice.' He continued writing for the stage down to, at least, 1640. In the notice of Heywood in the last edition of Dodsley's Old Plays, the following testimony to his industry is quoted from Kirkman, the author of a catalogue of plays: he says that Heywood 'was very laborious; for he not only acted almost every day, but also obliged himself to write a sheet every day for several years together; but many of his plays being composed loosely in taverns, occasions them to be mean. I could say somewhat more of him, and of all the old poets, having taken pleasure to converse with those that were acquainted with them.' As the editor of Dodsley well remarks, 'It is much to be lamented that Kirkman did not communicate to the world that information which he boasts of being able to give concerning the old poets, whose memory, for want of such intelligence, is now almost wholly lost to the world.' Of the multitude of plays written by this dramatist, only twenty-three are extant; of these the principal are, The Fair Maid of the Exchange (published 1607); A Woman Killed with Kindness (1607, acted previous to 1604); The Rape of Lucrece (1630); The Fair Maid of the West (1631); The English Traveller (1633); The Lancashire Witches (1634); Love's Mistress (1636); The Royal King and the Loyal Subject (1637).

The quantity of Heywood's writings was too great to allow of their quality being preeminent; there is nothing very marked or vigorous in his style, the chief characteristics of his dramas being softness, smoothness, repose, combined with a pleasant poetical fancy; his characters generally are not drawn with any great distinctness. Although some of the scenes in his plays are sufficiently immoral, and some of his characters of the lowest type, still he never descends to the use of the disgustingly filthy language which characterizes the works of many of his contemporaries. The following is Hazlitt's estimate of Heywood :'As Marlowe's imagination glows like a furnace, Heywood's is a gentle, lambent flame, that purifies without consuming. His manner is simplicity itself. There is nothing supernatural, nothing startling, or terrific. He makes use of the commonest circumstances of every-day life, and of the easiest tempers, to show the workings, or rather the inefficacy of the passions, the vis inertiæ of tragedy. His incidents strike from their very familiarity, and the distresses he paints invite our sympathy from the calmness and resignation with which they are borne. The pathos might be deemed purer, from its having no mixture of turbulence or vindictiveness in it; and in proportion as the sufferers are made to deserve a better fate. In the midst of the most untoward reverses and cutting injuries, good-nature and good sense keep their accustomed sway. He describes men's errors with tenderness,

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and their duties only with zeal, and the heightenings of a poetic fancy. His style is equaly natural, simple, and unconstrained. The dialogue (bating the verse) is such as might be uttered in ordinary conversation. It is beautiful prose put into heroic measure. It is not so much that he uses the common English idiom for everything (for that I think the mot poetical and impassioned of our elder dramatists do equally), but the simplicity of the characters and the equable flow of the sentiments do not require or suffer it to be warped from the tone of level speaking, by figurative expressions, or hyperbolical allusions.'

We have selected as a specimen of this writer, A Woman Killed with Kindness, of some passages in which Hazlitt speaks with admiration.]

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To tell you what these preparations mean.

Look for no glorious state: our Muse is bent

Upon a barren subject, a bare scene.

We could afford this twig a timber tree,

Our coarse fare, banquets; our thin water, wine;
Our brook, a sea; our bat's eyes, eagle's sight;
Our poet's dull and earthy muse, divine;

Our ravens, doves; our crow's black feathers,

white:

Whose strength might boldly on your favours But gentle thoughts, when they may give the

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1 the shaking of the sheets. This was the name of a dance and a very popular tune, frequently mentioned in ancient plays.

Sir F. Music, ho!-
By your leave, sister; by your husband's leave
I should have said. The hand that but this
day

Was given you in the church I'll borrow.

Sound!

This marriage music hoists me from the ground.
Frank. Ay, you may caper, you are light and

free:

Marriage hath yok'd my heels; pray, pardon

me.

Sir F. I'll have you dance too, brother.
Sir C. Master Frankford,

You are a happy man, sir; and much joy
Succeed your marriage mirth: you have a wife
So qualified, and with such ornaments

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