And that you have put fairly for an heir too : Tho' you had enjoy'd your first wish, you Yet, for mine honour's sake, if you must be prating, And for my credit's sake i' th' town- [lands; Wid. Have not you married me? And for this main cause, now as you report it, To be your nurse? [to? Val. My nurse? Why, what am I grown Give me the glass! My nurse? Wid. You ne'er said truer. I must confess, I did a little favour you, And with some labour might have been persuaded; But, when I found I must be hourly troubled With making broths, and dawbing your de[ruins; cays, With swaddling, and with stitching up your For the world so reports―― Val. Do not provoke me! Wid. And half an eye may see- The world's a lying world, and thou shalt find it! Have a good heart, and take a strong faith to thee, [shall rock me: And mark what follows. My nurse? Yes, you Widow, I'll keep you waking! Wid. You're disposed, Sir. [shall feel it! Val. Yes, marry am I, Widow; and you Nav, an they touch my freehold, I'm a tiger! Wid. I think so. Val. Come! Unc. Faith, nothing. Mer. No fruits of what we sow'd? Mer. No turning in this tide yet? And, 'till that fall away, there's no expecting. Enter Francisco, Isabella, Lanee, and Shorthose, with a torch. Mer. Is not this his younger brother? The Widow's sister, as I live! He smiles; Fran. Yes, indeed, will I; and get such Unc. God a mercy, Frank! Isab. This is a merry world; poor simple gentlewomen, [business, That think no harm, can't walk about their But they must be catch'd up, I know not how. Fran. I'll tell you, and I'll instruct you too. Have I caught you, mistress? Isab. Well, an it were not for pure pity, I would give you the slip yet; but, being as it Fran. It shall be better. [is Enter Valentine, Widow, and Ralph, with a torch. Isab. My sister, as I live! your brother with Sure, I think you're the king's takers. [her? Unc. Now it works. Val. Nay, you shall know I am a man. Val. And such proof you shall have! Val. I'll speak it out, Widow; yes, and you I am no nurse-child; I went for a man, 84 The wealth you aimed at.] We have added the word not here, the sense requiring it. VOL. 1. 2 P Wid. Are you mad? [paration. Val. I am mad, I am mad! Val. Along with me then! Never hang an Isab. 'Tis to no purpose, sister. Val. And keep your ranks! Unc. Carry it in state! Enter Musicians, Fountain, Harebrain, and Vul. What are you? musicians? 85 I know you coming.] Beside the obscurity of this expression, which I take to have been a mere typographical error, coming for come in, a syllable is wanting to the measure, which I have taken the liberty to supply, believing either you, or some other monosyllable as indifferent to the sense, has been dropt. One may easily believe, that such mistakes may have frequently happened in a play, where there have been visibly such numerous corruptions, and where the measure was so shockingly disregarded, that not twenty lines in the whole were designedly printed as such, in any former edition. This I hope I have generally restored; and that by the assistance of Mr. Sympson and Mr. Theobald's margin, I have retrieved many passages which were corrupted. I am far from presuming that all our conjectures are right; or that several blunders are not still left untouched. Seward. Mr. Seward reads, What're you, musicians? I know you, come you in, and what, &c. The old quartos say, I know your comming; meaning, as we apprehend, I know of your coming, it being custoinary at weddings. In the preparation of BEAUMONT and FLETCHER'S Works for the press, in 1750, either Mr. Theobald or Mr. Seward discovered, that the comedy of Wit without Money had been originally written in verse, and undertook the arduous task of restoring the metre, instead of printing it prosaically, as in all the former editions had been done. We are not capable of declaring to which of these gentlemen the honour of this well-meant undertaking belongs, or how far Mr. Theobald had proceeded in it at the time of his decease. From whomsoever the intent originated, by whomsoever the plan was executed, we are sorry to find the commendations due to the undertaking, must meet with a very considerable alloy, on observing how lightly the martyrdom of language, and the faithfulness of editorship, were looked on, when (which was very frequently the case) the process of this poetic plan met with interruption. How small is the honour to an Editor, how material the disgrace to an Author, how great the impediment to a Reader, when we find with multitudes similar; for we only mention such contractions as first occur to us, by way of specimen?-And if to these verbal assassinations we should (in aid of our equi-syllabic pursuit) add the introducing such arbitrary variations as to read -To Think well of Ourselves, if we deserve it, it is, Sir, a lustre in's, 'Twas rarely ta'en, "T has rid us fair of an incumberance, That he who doth intreat intrudes, 'Tis beyond faith, let's be going, There are here some gentlemen, Now I'm another metal, instead of To think well of ourselves, if we deserve it, is a lustre in us, 'T has taken rarely, It has rid us of a fair incumbrance, He that intreats intrudes, I am beyond my faith, pray let's be going, For I am of another metal now, together with interpolations, omissions, and transpositions, ad infinitum; when convicted of all these, so far from expecting applause, can they hope for pardon, or think to avoid the severest censure?-We beg to have it understood, that the freedoms which we object to, are such as the Editors have not mentioned in their notes. Noticed variations (but those variations should ever be made with the greatest caution, and not without an apparent urgent necessity) are in some degree allowable; others, we think, highly reprehensible.- -The whole of this play was printed under the inspection of Mr. Seward, whose only object of consideration seems to have been, the establishment of metre, no matter by what means; to him, therefore, we are to ascribe the abovementioned violences. We have no doubt but the play of Wit without Money was written in verse; but it is at the same time certain, that either our Authors were more licentious in this Comedy than in all their other plays put together; or else that the players, by whom, as Mr. Seward supposes, this play was divested of its measure, in order to render the dialogue more low and farcical,' and who did not publish it till fourteen years after Fletcher's demise, were so successful in their anti-heroic endeavour, that it appears totally impossible ever to effect a thorough restoration of the metre. All we can assure the reader is, that we have carefully adhered to the old copies, where the sense did not demand variation; that we have submitted such variations as we thought ourselves obliged to make, to the judgment of the Reader; and that (induced as well by the licentiousness of the old poetick writers, as a desire to be faithful Editors) we have preferred leaving faulty verses, to castration of language for regularity of measure. And the daughter and heir of Brabant: During which treaty, The Brabander pretends, this daughter was Stol'n from his court, by practice of our state; Though we are all confirm'd, 'twas a sought quarrel, To lay an unjust gripe upon this earldom; It being here believ'd the duke of Brabant Had no such loss. This war upon't proclaim'd, [ther Our earl, being then a child, although his faGood Gerrard liv'd, yet (in respect he was Chosen by the countess' favour for her husband, And but a gentleman, and Florez holding His right unto this country from his mother) The state thought fit, in this defensive war, Wolfort being then the only man of mark, To make him general. Mer. Which place we've heard He did discharge with honour. Her. Ay, so long, And with so bless'd successes, that the Brabander Was forc'd (his treasures wasted, and the choice Of his best men of arms tir'd or cut off) Himself, and actions, in the flattering glass And what it could effect, soon put in practice, The heart of his designs, gave him occasion To seize the whole: And in that plight you find it. Mer. Sir, I receive the knowledge of thus much, As a choice favour from you. Her. Only I must add, Bruges hold out. Mer. Whither, Sir, I am going; For there last night I had a ship put in, Her. I wish you a good journey.' [Exeunt. Enter Wolfort, Hubert, and attendants. Wol. What? Hubert stealing from me? Who disarm'd him? 'Twas more than I comnianded. Take your sword, I am best guarded with it in your hand; Hub. And will turn it On my own bosom, ere it shall be drawn Wal. Would you leave me Without a farewell, Hubert? Fly a friend Unwearied in his study to advance you? What have I e'er possess'd which was not yours? Or rather did not court you to command it? Who ever yet arriv'd to any grace, Reward, or trust from me, but his approaches Were by your fair reports of him preferr'd? And what is more, I made myself your ser vant, In making you the master of those secrets Which not the rack of conscience could draw [with; from me, Nor I, when I ask'd mercy, trust my prayers Yet, after these assurances of love, [me! These ties and bonds of friendship, to forsake Forsake me as an enemy! Come, you must Give me a reason. Hub. Sir, and so I will; If I may do't in private, and you hear it. Wol. All leave the room. You have your will; sit down, [Exeunt all but Wol, and Hub. And use the liberty of our first friendship. Hub. Friendship? When you prov'd trai tor first, that vanish'd; Nor do I owe you any thought but hate. Wol. To me this is strange language. The earl of Flanders. Hub. By a proper title? [self, Rais'd to't by cunning, circumvention, force, Blood, and proscriptions! Wol. And in all this wisdom, Had I not reason, when, by Gerrard's plots, I should have first been call'd to a strict ac This scene is cold and superfluous: The very next much more happily opens the plot, by dramatic action. 2 Or either did not court you, &c.] The sense requires us to read rather instead of either. Wol. You take strange licence. Hub. Yes; were not those rumours, But by your cunning practice, to believe But first to be made sure, and have your Laid open after? which your quaint train You fled unto the camp, and there crav'd humbly Protection for your innocent life, and that, Since you had 'scap'd the fury of the war, You might not fall by treason: And for proof You did not for your own ends make this danger, Some that had been before by you suborn'd, Came forth and took their oaths they had been hir'd [heard, By Gerrard to your murder. This once And easily believ'd, th' enraged soldier, Seeing no further than the outward man, Snatch'd hastily his arms, ran to the court, Kill'd all that made resistance, cut in pieces Such as were servants, or thought friends to Gerrard, Vowing the like to him. Wol. Will you yet end? Hub. Which he foreseeing, with his son, the earl, Forsook the city; and by secret ways, [it) (As you give out, and we would gladly have Escap'd their fury; tho' 'tis more than fear'd They fell among the rest. Nor stand you there, To let us only mourn the impious means So far transcend your former bloody ills, Wol. Oh, repeat them not: 'Tis hell to hear them nam'd! Hub. You should have thought, That hell would be your punishment when you did them! A prince in nothing but your princely lusts, And boundless rapines! Wol. No more, I beseech you! Hub. Who was the lord of house or land, that stood Within the prospect of your covetous eye? Wol. You are in this to me a greater tyrant, Than e'er I was to any. Hub. I end thus The general grief. Now to my private wrong, Makes my life irksome? Here, securely take That I may die by you, and not your hangWol. Oh, Hubert, these your words and reasons have [heart, As well drawn drops of blood from my griev'd As these tears from mine eyes: Despise them not! By all that's sacred, I am serious, Hubert. The first of your best actions. Can you All of a man. 3 Here surely take it.] Mr. Seward reads, Here, Sir, freely take it. The alteration admitted into the text is proposed by Mr. Sympson; which we prefer, because there is a civility in Sir but ill adapted to the present temper of Hubert, and because it is nearer the old books. 4 What furies, &c.] Rowe seems to have intended copying this passage in his Fair Penitent: Guilt is the source of sorrow; 'tis the fiend, Th' avenging fiend, that follows us behind |