Page images
PDF
EPUB

King. My son!

Blest be the time, that I have leave to call
Such virtue mine! Now thou art in mine arms,
Methinks I have a salve unto my breast,
For all the stings that dwell there. Streams
of grief

That I have wrong'd thee, and as much of joy
That I repent it, issue from mine eyes: [her;
Let them appease thee Take thy right; take
She is thy right too; and forget to urge
My vexed soul with that I did before.

Phi. Sir, it is blotted from my memory, Past and forgotten. For you, Prince of Spain, Whom I have thus redeem'd, you have full To make an honourable voyage home. [leave And if you would go furnish'd to your realm With fair provision, I do see a lady, Methinks, would gladly bear you company: How like this piece?

you

Meg. Sir, he likes it well;

For he hath tried it, and found it worth
His princely liking. We were ta'en a-bed;
I know your meaning. I am not the first
That Nature taught to seek a fellow forth:
Can shame remain perpetually in me,
And not in others? or, have princes salves
To cure ill names, that meaner people want?
Phi. What mean you?

Meg. You must get another ship,
To bear the princess and the boy together.
Dion. How now!

[him

Meg. Others took me, and I took her and At that all women may be ta'en some time. Ship us all four, my lord; we can endure Weather and wind alike. [for father. King. Clear thou thyself, or know not me Are. This earth, how false it is! What means is left

For me to clear myself? It lies in your belief. My lords, believe me; and let all things else Struggle together to dishonour me.

Bel. Oh, stop your ears, great king, that I may speak.

As freedom would; then I will call this lady As base as be her actions! Hear me, Sir: Believe your heated blood when it rebels Against your reason, sooner than this lady. Meg. By this good light, he bears it handsomely. [wind

Phi. This lady? I will sooner trust the
With feathers, or the troubled sea with pearl,
Than her with any thing. Believe her not!
Why, think you, if I did believe her words,
I would outlive 'em? Honour cannot take
Revenge on you; then, what were to be
But death?
[known

King. Forget her, Sir, since all is knit
Between us. But I must request of you
One favour, and will sadly be denied.49
Phi. Command, whate'er it be.
King. Swear to be true
To what you promise.

49

Phi. By the pow'rs above,

Let it not be the death of her or him,
And it is granted.

King. Bear away that boy

To torture: I will have her clear'd or buried. Phi. Oh, let me call my words back, worthy Sir!

Ask something else! Bury my life and right In one poor grave; but do not take away My life and fame at once.

[cable. King Away with him! It stands irrevoPhi. Turn all your eyes on me: Here stands

[blocks in formation]

and will sadly be denied.] i. e. shall be very sorry to be denied.

Mr. Theobald.

[blocks in formation]

50

Of truth outweigh'd it: All these jealousies
Had flown to nothing, if thou hadst discover'd
What now we know.

Bel. My father oft would speak 50
Your worth and virtue; and, as I did grow
More and more apprehensive, I did thirst
To see the man so prais'd; but yet all this
Was but a maiden longing, to be lost
As soon as found; till sitting in 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,
Heav'd from a sheep-cote to a sceptre, rais'd
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 liv'd
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 discov'ry 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 mens'

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

Bel. 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.

Are. 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! [earth

Phi. I grieve such virtues should be laid in
Without an heir. Hear me, my royal father:
Wrong not the freedom of our souls so much,
To think to take revenge of that base woman;

My father oft would speak, &c.] The beauty, the innocence, of Euphrasia's character is finely depicted in this narration from her own mouth. Our poets, when they intended it, seldom failed in the art of moving the passions. The young lady, from her father's encomiums first, had fallen in love with Philaster; though she knew she could have no pretensions to his bed. But as her next, and only, happiness was to live in his sight, she disguised her sex, and entered into his service. Her resolution, and vow, never to marry any other, is a fine heightening of the character. Mr. Theobald.

Her malice cannot hurt us. Set her free
As she was born, saving from shame and sin.
King. Set her at liberty; but leave the
court;

This is no place for such! You, Pharamond,
Shall have free passage, and a conduct home
Worthy so great a prince. When you come
there,

Remember, 'twas your faults that lost you her, And not my purpos'd will.

Pha. I do confess, Renowned Sir.

1

King. Last, join your hands in one. Enjoy, Philaster,

This kingdom, which is yours, and after me Whatever I call mine. My blessing on you! All happy hours be at your marriage-joys, That

you may grow yourselves over all lands, And live to see your plenteous branches spring Where-ever there is sun! Let princes learn By this, to rule the passions of their blood, For what Heav'n wills can never be withstood. [Exeunt omnes.

A KING AND NO KING.

The Commendatory Verses by Howard and Herrick ascribe this Play to Fletcher; by Earle, to Beaumont. The first edition bears date 1619. Notwithstanding its prodigious merit, it has not been performed for many years past; nor do we find that it ever received any alterations. The sudden bursts, and quick transitions of passion, in the character of Arbaces, are, however, supposed to have given rise to a burlesque drama, or parody (by Tate) sometimes represented, under the title of "Duke and No Duke."

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

MEN.

ARBACES, king of Iberia.

TIGRANES, king of Armenia.

GOBRIAS, {

WOMEN.

ARANE, the queen mother.'

PANTHEA, her daughter.

lord protector, and futher of SPACONIA, a lady, daughter of Ligones.

Arbaces.

BACURIUS, another lord.

MARDONIUS,

BESSUS,

}

two captains.

MANDANE,

a waiting-woman; and other

Three men and a woman.

attendants.

PHILIP, a servant, and two citizens' wives.
A Messenger.

A boy.

LIGONES, father of Spaconia.

Two Gentlemen.

Two Sword-men.

A servant to BACURIUS.

SCENE, on the frontiers of ARMENIA; and, afterwards, in the metropolis of Iberia.2

Enter Mardonius and Bessus.3

ACT I.

Mar. BESSUS, the king has made a fair hand

on't; he has ended the wars at a blow. 'Would my sword had a close basket hilt, to hold wine, and the blade would make knives; for we shall have nothing but eating and drinking.

Bes. We that are commanders shall do well enough.

Mar. Faith, Bessus, such commanders as thou I had as lieve set thee perdue for a may: pudding i'th' dark, as Alexander the Great. Bes. I love these jests exceedingly.

Mar. I think thou lov'st 'em better than quarrelling, Bessus; I'll say so much in thy

1 Arane, the queen's mother.] The trifling alteration we have here made is not only necessary, but warranted by different passages in the play. In the beginning of the third act we find, And the queen-mother and the princess wait.'

[ocr errors]

2 Scene, on the frontiers, &c.] For this information we are indebted to Mr. Theobald. 3 The character of Bessus, I think, must be allowed in general a fine copy from Shakespeare's inimitable Falstaffe. He is a coward, yet would fain set up for a hero; ostentatious, without any grain of merit to support his vain-glory; a liar throughout, to exalt his assumed qualifications; and lewd, without any countenance from the ladies to give him an umbrage for it. As to his wit and humour, the precedence must certainly be adjudged to Falstaffe, the great original. Mr. Theobald.

To these remarks on the character of Bessus, it may not be improper to add, that it has a strong Bobadilian tincture, and that, in all probability, the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, and Thrase of Terence, furnished both Jonson and our Authors with hints for the respective characters. Falstaffe is more an original.

« PreviousContinue »