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Bell. If you do hate, you could not curse me The gods have not a punishment in store [worse. Greater for me than is your hate.

Phil. Fie, fie! so young and so dissembling. Tell me when and where ****

Or plagues fall on me if I destroy thee not!

Bell. Heav'n knows I never did; and when I lie To save my life, may I live long and loathed ! Hew me asunder; and, whilst I can think, I'll love those pieces you have cut away Better than those that grow, and kiss those limbs Because you made them so.

Phil. Fear'st thou not death? Can boys contemn
Bell. Oh, what boy is he
[that?

Can be content to live to be a man,
That sees the best of men thus passionate,

Thus without reason?

Phil. Oh, but thou dost not know

What 'tis to die!

Bell. Yes, I do know, my lord: 'Tis less than to be born-a lasting sleep, A quiet resting from all jealousy,

A thing we all pursue. I know, besides,

It is but giving o'er a game that must be lost.
Phil. But there are pains, false boy,
For perjured souls. Think but on these, and then
Thy heart will melt, and thou wilt utter all.

Bell. May they fall all upon me whilst I live, If I be perjured, or have ever thought Of that you charge me with! If I be false, Send me to suffer in those punishments You speak of kill me !

Phil. Oh! what should I do?

Why who can but believe him? he does swear
So earnestly, that if it were not true
The gods would not endure him. Rise, Bellario;
Thy protestations are so deep, and thou
Dost look so truly when thou utter'st them,
That though I know 'em false as were my hopes,
I cannot urge thee farther; but thou wert
To blame to injure me, for I must love
Thy honest looks, and take no revenge upon
Thy tender youth. A love from me to thee
So firm, whate'er thou dost, it troubles me
That I have call'd the blood out of thy cheeks,
That did so well become thee; but, good boy,
Let me not see thee more. Something is done
That will distract me, that will make me mad,
If I behold thee. If thou tender'st me,
Let me not see thee.

Bell. I will fly as far

As there is morning, ere I give distaste

To that most honour'd mind; but through these
Shed at my hopeless parting, I can see [tears,
A world of treason practised upon you,
And her, and me. Farewell for evermore!
If you shall hear that sorrow struck me dead,
And after find me loyal, let there be
A tear shed from you in my memory,
And I shall rest at peace.

Phil. Blessing be with thee,
Whatever thou deservest !

In the last scene of Philaster, the supposed youth, Bellario, is obliged to confess her sex, and accounts thus for her assumed disguise.

Phil. But, Bellario,

(For I must call thee still so) tell me why
Thou didst conceal thy sex? It was a fault-
A fault, Bellario, though thy other deeds
Of truth outweigh'd it. All these jealousies
Had flown to nothing, if thou hadst discover'd
What now we know.

Bell. My father oft would speak

Your worth and virtue; and as I did grow
More and more apprehensive, I did thirst
To see the man so praised; but yet all this
Was but a maiden longing, to be lost
As soon as found, till, sitting at my window,
Printing my thoughts in lawn, I saw a god,
I thought, but it was you, enter our gates;
My blood flew out and back again as fast
As I had puff'd it forth, and suck'd it in
Like breath; then was I call'd away in haste
To entertain you never was a man,
Heaved from a sheep-cote to a sceptre, raised
So high in thoughts as I. You left a kiss
Upon these lips then, which I mean to keep
From you for ever. I did hear you talk
Far above singing! After you were gone,
I grew acquainted with my heart, and search'd
What stirr'd it so. Alas! I found it love,
Yet far from lust; for, could I but have lived
In presence of you, I had had my end.
For this I did delude my noble father
With a feign'd pilgrimage, and dress'd myself
In habit of a boy; and, for I knew

My birth no match for you, I was past hope
Of having you; and understanding well,
That when I made discovery of my sex
I could not stay with you, I made a vow,
By all the most religious things a maid
Could call together, never to be known
Whilst there was hope to hide me from men's eyes
For other than I seem'd, that I might ever
Abide with you; then sat I by the fount
Where first you took me up.

King. Search out a match

Within our kingdom where and when thou wilt,
And I will pay thy dowry; and thyself
Wilt well deserve him.

Bell. Never, sir, will I

Marry it is a thing within my vow:

But if I may have leave to serve the princess, To see the virtues of her lord and her,

I shall have hope to live.

Arethusa. I, Philaster,

Cannot be jealous, though you had a lady, Dress'd like a page, to serve you; nor will I Suspect her living here. Come, live with me, Live free as I do she that loves my lord, Curst be the wife that hates her!

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THE RECONCILEMENT OF MR. ROGER, THE CURATE, AND ABIGAIL.

FROM THE SCORNFUL LADY, SCENE I. ACT IV.

Abig. SEE how scornfully he passes by me, With what an equipage canonical, As though he had broken the heart of Bellarmine, Or added something to the singing brethren; 'Tis scorn, I know it, and deserve it, Master Roger. Rog. Fair gentlewoman, my name is Roger. Abig. Then, gentle Roger

Rog. Ungentle Abigail

Abig. Why, Master Roger, will you set your wit To a weak woman's?

Rog. You are weak, indeed;

For so the poet sings.

Abig. I do confess

My weakness, sweet Sir Roger.
Rog. Good, my lady's

Gentlewoman, or my good lady's gentlewoman,
(This trope is lost to you now) leave your prating,
You have a season of your first mother in you,
And, surely, had the devil been in love,
He had been abused too. Go, Dalilah,
You make men fools, and wear fig-breeches.

Abig. Well, well, hard-hearted man, you may Upon the weak infirmities of woman, [dilate These are fit texts: but once there was a timeWould I had never seen those eyes, those eyes, Those orient eyes!

Rog. Ay, they were pearls once with you. Abig. Saving your presence, sir, so they are still. Rog. Nay, nay, I do beseech you, leave your What they are, they are― [cogging; They serve me without spectacles-I thank 'em. Abig. Oh, will you kill me?

Rog. I do not think I can:

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Abig. Oh, be as then you were.
Rog. I thank you for it.

Surely I will be wiser, Abigail,

And, as the Ethnic poet sings,

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And give me possets with purging comfits in them? I tell thee, gentlewoman, thou hast been harder to me Than a long chapter with a pedigree.

Abig. Oh, curate, cure me;

I will love thee better, dearer, longer!
I will do anything-betray the secrets
Of the main household to thy reformation;
My lady shall look lovingly on thy learning;
And when due time shall point thee for a parson,

I will convert thy eggs to penny custards,
And thy tithe goose shall graze and multiply.
Rog. I am mollified,

As well shall testify this faithful kiss.
But have a great care, Mistress Abigail,
How you depress the spirit any more,
With your rebukes and mocks, for certainly
The edge of such a folly cuts itself.

Abig. Oh, Sir, you've pierced me thorough! Here [I vow

A recantation to those malicious faults

I ever did against you. Never more
Will I despise your learning; never more
Pin cards and cony tails upon your cassock;
Never again reproach your reverend nightcap,
And call it by the mangy name of murrion;
Never your reverend person more, and say
You look like one of Baal's priests i' the hanging;
Never again, when you say grace, laugh at you,
Nor put you out at pray'rs; never cramp you more
With the great book of Martyrs; nor, when you ride,
Get soap and thistles for you-No, my Roger,
These faults shall be corrected and amended,
As by the tenor of my tears appears.

JULIO TANTALIZED BY BUSTOPHA ABOUT THE FATE OF HIS NEPHEW ANTONIO.

THE MAID OF THE MILL, ACT IV. SCENE II.

Jul. My mind's unquiet; while Antonio
My nephew's abroad, my heart's not at home;
Only my fears stay with me-bad company,
But I cannot shift 'em off. This hatred
Betwixt the house of Bellides and us
Is not fair war-'tis civil, but uncivil ;
We are near neighbours, were of love as near,
Till a cross misconstruction ('twas no more
In conscience,) put us so far asunder.

I would 'twere reconciled; it has lasted
Too many sunsets: if grace might moderate,
Man should not lose so many days of peace
To satisfy the anger of one minute.

I could repent it heartily. I sent
The knave to attend my Antonio too,
Yet he returns no comfort to me neither.
Enter BUSTOPHA.
Bust. No, I must not.
Jul. Ha! he is come.
Bust. I must not :

"Twill break his heart to hear it.

Jul. How! there's bad tidings.

I must obscure and hear it: he'll not tell it
For breaking of my heart. It's half split already.

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With telling of a tale. Oh, foul tale! no, be silent,
Furthermore, there is the charge of burial. [tale.
Every one will cry blacks, blacks, that had
But the least finger dipt in his blood, though ten
Degrees removed when 'twas done. Moreover,
The surgeons that made an end of him will be paid
Sugar-plums and sweet-breads; yet, say I,
The man may recover again, and die in his bed.
Jul. What motley stuff is this? Sirrah, speak
What hath befallen my dear Antonio ! [truth.
Restrain your pity in concealing it;
Tell me the danger full. Take off your care
Of my receiving it; kill me that way,

I'll forgive my death! What thou keep'st back from truth,

Thou shalt speak in pain: do not look to find
A limb in his right place, a bone unbroke,
Nor so much flesh unbroil'd of all that mountain,
As a worm might sup on-despatch or be despatch'd.
Bust. Alas, Sir, I know nothing but that Antonio
Is a man of God's making to this hour;
'Tis not two since I left him so.

Jul. Where didst thou leave him?

Bust. In the same clothes he had on when he went from you.

Jul. Does he live?

Bust. I saw him drink.

Jul. Is he not wounded?

Bust. He may have a cut i' the leg by this time, For Don Martino and he were at whole slashes. Jul. Met he not with Lisauro?

Bust. I do not know her.

Jul. Her! Lisauro is a man, as he is. Bust. I saw ne'er a man like him. Jul. Didst thou not discourse

A fight betwixt Antonio and Lisauro ? Bust. Ay, to myself:

I hope a man may give himself the lie If it please him.

Jul. Didst thou lie then?

Bust. As sure as you live now.

Jul. I live the happier by it. When will he

return?

Bust. That he sent me to tell you--within these Ten days at farthest.

Jul. Ten days! he's not wont

To be absent two.

Bust. Nor I think he will not. He said he would
be at home

To-morrow; but I love to speak within
My compass.

|

Jul. You shall speak within mine, Sir, now. Within there! take this fellow into custody. Keep him safe, I charge you. [Enter Servants. Bust. Safe, do you hear! take notice What plight you find me in. Or a steak of me, look to 't. Jul. If my nephew

If there want but a
[collop,

Return not in his health to-morrow, thou goest
To the rack.

Bust. Let me go to the manger first,
I'd rather eat oats than hay.

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y daughter of a wretched father!

y your haste, as I shall need your mercy. -Away with this fond woman! -. You must hear me,

be any spark of pity in you;
humanity and mercy rule you.
fess you are a prince-your anger
as you, your execution greater.
Away with him!

- Oh, Captain, by thy manhood,
oft soul that bare thee-I do confess, Sir,
om of justice on your foes most righteous.

oble Prince, look on me.

Take her from me.

A curse upon his life that hinders me ! er's blessing never fall upon him!

'n ne'er hear his prayers! I beseech you— -se tears beseech you-these chaste hands you,

er yet were heaved but to things holy, ke yourself. You are a god above us, od, then, full of saving mercy. Oh, mercy! Sir-for his sake mercy, en your stout heart weeps, shall give you

ust grow.

By heaven I'll strike thee, woman! [pity. Most willingly-let all thy anger seize me, ost studied tortures, so this good man, man, and this innocent escape thee. Carry him away, I say.

Now blessing on thee! Oh, sweet pity, thine eyes. I charge you, soldiers, The Prince's power, release my father! e is merciful-why do you hold him? ce forgets his fury-why do you tug

?

why do you hurt him? Speak, oh speak,

you are a man-a man's life hangs, Sir,
life, and a foster life, upon you.
word, but mercy-quickly spoke, Sir.
Prince, speak!

Will no man here obey me?

Have I no rule yet? As I live, he dies
That does not execute my will, and suddenly.
Bald. All thou canst do takes but one short hour
Rollo. Hew off her hands!
[from me.

93

Ham. Lady, hold off.

Edith. No, hew 'em ;

Hew off my innocent hands, as he commands you,
They'll hang the faster on for death's convulsion.
[Exit BALDWIN with the guard.
Thou seed of rocks, will nothing move thee then?
Are all my tears lost, all my righteous prayers
Drown'd in thy drunken wrath? I stand up thus,
Thus boldly, bloody tyrant !
[then,

And to thy face, in heav'n's high name, defy thee;
And may sweet mercy, when thy soul sighs for it,
When under thy black mischiefs thy flesh trembles,
When neither strength, nor youth, nor friends,
nor gold,

Can stay one hour; when thy most wretched con-
science,

Waked from her dream of death, like fire shall
melt thee;

When all thy mother's tears, thy brother's wounds,
Thy people's fears and curses, and my loss,
My aged father's loss, shall stand before thee :—

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

May then that pity,-
[mercy
That comfort thou expect'st from heav'n-that
Be lock'd up from thee-fly thee! howlings find
thee!

*

Despair! (Oh my sweet father!) Storms of terror !
Blood till thou burst again!
Rollo. Oh fair, sweet anger!

INSTALLATION OF THE KING OF THE BEGGARS.
FROM BEGGARS' BUSH, ACT II, SCENE I.

Persons.-KING CLAUSE, PRIGG, GINKS, HIGGEN, FERRET,
and other Beggars.

Ferret. WHAT is't I see? Snap has got it.
Snap. A good crown, marry.
Prigg. A crown of gold—~

Ferret. For our new King-good luck.

Ginks. To the common treasury with it—if it be Thither it must.

[gold

Prigg. Spoke like a patriot, Ginks.

King Clause. I bid God save thee first; first
After this golden token of a crown—— [Clause,
Where's orator Higgen with his gratulating speech
In all our names?
[now,

Ferret. Here he is, pumping for it.

Ginks. H' has cough'd the second time, 'tis but And then it comes. [once more,

Ferret. So out with all! Expect now-
Hig. That thou art chosen, venerable Clause,
Our king, and sovereign monarch of the maunders,
Thus we throw up our nab-cheats first for joy,
And then our filches; last we clap our fambles
Three subject signs-we do it without envy.
For who is he here, did not wish thee chosen?
Now thou art chosen, ask them--all will say so—

Nay, swear't-'tis for the King: but let that pass.
When last in conference at the bouzing kena,
This other day, we sat about our dead prince,
Of famous memory (rest go with his rags!)
And that I saw thee at the table's end,
Rise moved, and gravely leaning on one crutch,
Lift t'other, like a sceptre, at my head;

In his own path and circuit.

Hig. Do you hear?

I then presaged thou shortly wouldst be king.
And now thou art so-but what need presage
To us, that might have read it in thy beard,
As well as he that chose thee? By that beard,
Thou wert found out and mark'd for sovereignty!
Oh, happy beard! but happier Prince, whose beard
Was so remark'd, as marking out our Prince,
Not bating us a hair. Long may it grow,
And thick and fair, that who lives under it
May live as safe as under beggars' bush,
Of which this is thing, that but the type.
Omnes. Excellent, excellent orator! Forward,
good Higgen

Give him leave to spit-the fine, well-spoken
Higgen!

Hig. This is the beard, the bush, or bushy beard,
Under whose gold and silver reign 'twas said
So many ages since, we all should smile.
No impositions, taxes, grievances !
Knots in a state, and whips unto a subject,
Lie lurking in this beard, but all kemb'd out.
If, now, the beard be such, what is the Prince
That owes the beard? A father? no-a grandfather?
Nay, the great-grandfather of you his people.
He will not force away your hens, your bacon,
When you have ventured hard for't; nor take from
The fattest of your puddings. Under him [you
Each man shall eat his own stol'n eggs and butter,
In his own shade or sunshine, and enjoy
His own dear doll doxy, or mort at night
In his own straw, with his own shirt or sheet,
That he hath filch'd that day-ay, and possess
What he can purchase-back or belly cheats
To his own prop.
He will have no purveyors
For pigs and poultry.

Clause. That we must have, my learned orator, Aspires the height of all impiety.
It is our will-and every man to keep

Therefore 'tis fitter I should reverence

The thatched houses where the Britons dwell
In careless mirth; where the bless'd household gods
See nought but chaste and simple purity.

'Tis not high power that makes a place divine,
Nor that the men from gods derive their line;
But sacred thoughts, in holy bosoms stored,
Make people noble, and the place adored.
Suet. Beat the wall deeper.

Bond. Beat it to the centre,
We will not sink one thought.
Suet. I'll make ye.

Bond. No.

2nd Daughter. Oh, mother, these are fearful hours!-speak gently.

[says.

You must hereafter maund on your own pads, he
Clause. And what they get there is their own;
To give good words——

[besides,

Hig. Do you mark, to cut been whids, That is the second law.

DISTANT VIEW OF THE ROMAN ARMY
ENGAGING THE BRITONS.

FROM THE TRAGEDY OF BONDUCA, SCENE V. ACT III.

Look how they hang like falling rocks, as murdering
Death rides in triumph, Drusius, fell Destruction
Lashes his fiery horse, and round about him
His many thousand ways to let out souls.
Move me again when they charge, when the moun-
tain

SEE that huge battle moving from the mountains,
Their gilt coats shine like dragon scales, their march
Like a rough tumbling storm; see 'em, * *
And then see Rome no more. Say they fail; look,
Look where the armed carts stand, a new army!

*

Alehouse.-b Combed.

Melts under their hot wheels, and from their ax-
trees

Huge claps of thunder plough the ground before
Till then I'll dream what Rome was. [them,

BONDUCA ATTACKED IN HER FORTRESS BY
THE ROMANS.

FROM THE SAME, SCENE IV. ACT IV.

Persons-SUETONIUS, JUNIUS, DECIUS, and other Romans,
BONDUCA and her Daughters, with NENNIUS above.

Suet. BRING up the catapults, and shake the wall, We will not be outbraved thus.

Nen. Shake the earth,

Ye cannot shake our souls. Bring up your rams,
And with their armed heads make the fort totter,
Ye do but rock us into death.

Jun. See, sir,

See the Icenian queen in all her glory

From the strong battlements proudly appearing,
As if she meant to give us lashes.
Dec. Yield, queen.

Bond. I'm unacquainted with that language,
Roman.

Suet. Yield, honour'd lady, and expect our mercy; We love thy nobleness.

Bond. I thank ye, ye say well;

But mercy and love are sins in Rome and hell. Suet. You cannot 'scape our strength, you must yield, lady;

You must adore and fear the power of Rome.

Bond. If Rome be earthly, why should any knee
With bending adoration worship her?
She's vicious, and your partial selves confess

The Roman who makes this speech is supposed to be reclining, overcome with fatigue, and going to snatch a momentary repose.

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