Journal of a Tour from Damascus, in the Countries of the
Libanus and Anti-Libanus ……………………………..page 1

Journal of an Excursion into the Haouran, in the Autumn and
Winter of 1810,………………………………………….51

Journal of a Tour from Aleppo to Damascus, through the Valley
of the Orontes and Mount Libanus, in February and March,
1812…………………………………………………..121

Journal of a Tour from Damascus into the Haouran, and the
Mountains to the E. and S.E. of the Lake of Tiberias, in the
Months of April and May, 1812…………………………….211

Description of a Journey from Damascus through the Mountains
of Arabia Petraea and Desert el Ty, to Cairo, in the Summer
of 1812………………………………………………..311

Journal of a Tour in the Peninsula of Mount Sinai, in the Spring
of 1816………………………………………………..457

APPENDIX.

No. I. An Account of the Ryhanlu Turkmans…………………..633

No. II. On the Political Division of Syria, and the recent changes in the Government of Aleppo……………………….648

No. III. The Hadj Route from Damascus to Mekka………………..656

No. IV. Description of the Route from Boszra in the Haouran, to Djebel Shammor……………………………………….662

No. V. A Route to the Eastward of the Castle El Hasa………….665

ather. She privately bids Mendozo acknowledge this and so gain the crown, but he refuses to support the lie and is promptly arrested as a traitor. Abdelazer now brings forward the Infanta Leonora and proclaims her Queen of Spain, He next disposes of the Queen Mother by bidding Roderigo, a creature of his own, assassinate her forthwith. Roderigo gains admittance disguised as a friar and stabs her, upon which Abdelazer, to screen himself, rushes in and cuts him down. He next openly declares his love for Leonora and is about to force her when Osmin, his officer, enters to inform him that Alonzo, to whom Leonora is affianced, has resisted arrest but is at last secured. Abdelazer, enraged at the interruption, wounds Osmin in the arm. Leonora pities the blow; and the Moorish soldier, deeply hurt at the insult, resolves to betray his master. He accordingly goes to the prison where Philip, the Cardinal, and Alonzo are confined, and killing his fellow Zarrack who was to have been their executioner, sets them free. When Abdelazer enters he finds himself entrapped. He glories, however, in his crimes, and as they set on him kills Osmin, himself falling dead in the mÊleÉ. The Cardinal is forgiven, Leonora and Alonzo are united, whilst Philip ascends the throne.

SOURCE.

Abdelazer; or, the Moor’s Revenge is an alteration of the robustious _Lust’s Dominion; or, the Lascivious Queen, printed 12mo, 1657, and then attributed to Marlowe, who was certainly not the author. It is now generally identified with The Spanish Moor’s Tragedy by Dekker (Haughton and Day, 1600), although, as Fleay justly says, there is ‘an under-current of pre-Shakespearean work’ unlike either Dekker or Day. There are marked crudities of form and a rough conduct of plot which stamp it as of very early origin. Probably it was emended and pruned by the three collaborators.

Although often keeping close to her original, Mrs. Behn has dealt with the somewhat rude material in a very apt and masterly way: she has, to advantage, omitted the old King, Emanuel, King of Portugal, Alvero, father to Maria (Florella), and the two farcical friars, Crab and Cole; she adds Elvira, and whereas in Lust’s Dominion the Queen at the conclusion is left alive, declaiming:—

‘I’ll fly unto some solitary residence
When I’ll spin out the remnant of my life
In true contrition for my past offences.’—

Mrs. Behn far more dramatically kills her Isabella. Perhaps the famous assassination of Henri III of France by the Dominican, Jacques Clement, gave a hint for Roderigo masqued as a monk.

The sexual passion, the predominance of which in this tragedy a recent critic has not a little carpingly condemned, is entirely natural in such an untamed savage as Abdelazer, whilst history affords many a parallel to the lascivious Queen.

THEATRICAL HISTORY.

Abdelazer; or, The Moor’s Revenge was first produced at the Duke’s Theatre in Dorset Garden during the late autumn of 1677. It was supported by a strong cast, and Betterton, whose Othello, Steele—writing exquisitely in the Tatler—seems to have considered artistically quite perfect, was no doubt n wonderful representative of the ferocious Afric. The effective rÔle of Queen Isabella fell to Mrs. Mary Lee, the first tragedienne of the day, Mrs. Marshall, the leading lady of the King’s Company, having at this time just retired from the stage. [Footnote: Her last rÔle was Berenice in Crowne’s heroic tragedy, The Destruction of Jerusalem (1677).] It is interesting to notice that Mrs. Barry on her way to fame played the secondary part of Leonora.

Abdelazer seems to have met with good success, and on Easter Monday, April, 1695, the patentees, after the secession of Betterton, Mrs. Barry, Mrs. Bracegirdle and their following to Lincoln’s Inn Fields, chose the tragedy to reopen Drury Lane. The Moor was played by George Powell, a vigorous and passionate actor, who also spoke a new prologue written for the nonce by Cibber, then a mere struggler in the ranks. Colley’s verses were accepted at the eleventh hour in default of better, and he tells us how chagrined he was not to be allowed to deliver them in person. The house was very full the first day, but on the morrow it was empty, probably owing to the inexperience of many of the actors and a too hasty rehearsing of the play.

On the stage Abdelazer was superseded by Edward Young’s The Revenge, a tragedy largely borrowed in theme and design from Mrs. Behn, with reminiscences of Othello. Produced at Drury Lane, 18 April, 1721, with Mills, Booth, Wilks, Mrs. Porter and Mrs. Horton in the cast, it attained considerable success, and Zanga, the Moor, was long a favourite part with our greatest actors even down to the days of Kean, who excelled in it, and Macready. The Revenge is not without merit, and it stands out well before the lean and arid tragedies of its time, but this, unfortunately, is not much to say. It is not for a moment to be compared with the magnificent tapestry of Abdelazer, woven though the latter may be in colours strong and daring.

ABDELAZER; or, The Moor’s Revenge.

PROLOGUE.

_Gallants, you have so long been absent hence,
That you have almost cool’d your Diligence;
For while we study or revive a Play,
You, like good Husbands, in the Country stay,
There frugally wear out your Summer Suit,
And in Prize Jerkin after Beagles toot;
Or, in Montero-Caps, at Feldfares shoot.
Nay, some are so obdurate in their Sin,
That they swear never to come up again,
But all their Charge of Clothes and Treat retrench,
To Gloves and Stockings for some Country Wench:
Even they, who in the Summer had Mishaps,
Send up to Town for Physick for their Claps.
The Ladies too are as resolved as they,
And having Debts unknown to them, they stay,
And with the Gain of Cheese and Poultry pay.
Even in their Visits, they from Banquets fall,
To entertain with Nuts and Bottle-Ale;
And in Discourse with Secresy report
State-News, that past a Twelve-month since at Court.
Those of them who are most refind, and gay,
Now learn the Songs of the last Summer’s Play:
While the young Daughter does in private mourn,
Her Lovers in Town, and hopes not to return.
These Country Grievances too great appear:
But cruel Ladies, we have greater here;
You come not sharp, as you are wont, to Plays;
But only on the first and second Days:
This made our Poet, in her Visits, look
What new strange Courses, for your time you took,
And to her great Regret she found too soon,
Damn’d Beasts and Ombre spent the Afternoon;
So that we cannot hope to see you here
Before the little Net-work Purse be clear.
Suppose you should have Luck—
Yet sitting up so late, as I am told,
You’ll lose in Beauty what you win in Gold:
And what each Lady of another says,
Will make you new Lampoons, and us new Plays.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

MEN.

Ferdinand, a young King of Spain, in love with Florella. Mr. Harris. Philip, his Brother. Mr. Smith. Akdelazer, the Moor. Mr. Betterton. Mendozo, Prince Cardinal, in love with the Queen. Mr. Medburn. Alonzo, a young Nobleman of Spain, contracted to Leonora. Mr. Crasbie. Roderigo, a Creature to the Moor, Mr. Norris. Antonio, " Sebastian, Two Officers of Phillip’s. " Mr. John Lee. Osmin, " Mr. Percivall. Zarrack, Moors and Officers to Abdelazer. " Mr. Richards. Ordonio, a Courtier. A Swain, and Shepherds. Courtiers, Officers, Guards, Soldiers, Moors, Pages, and Attendants.

WOMEN.

Isabella, Queen of Spain, Mother to Ferdinand and Philip, in love with Abdelazer. Mrs. Lee. Leonora, her Daughter, Sister to Ferdinand and Philip. Mrs. Barrey. Florella, Wife to Abdelazer, and Sister to Mrs. Betterton. Alonzo. Elvira, Woman to the Queen. Mrs. Osborne. A Nymph, and Shepherdesses. Other Women Attendants.

SCENE Spain, and in the Camp.

ACT I.

SCENE I. A rich Chamber.

A Table with Lights, Abdelazer sullenly leaning his Head on his Hands: after a little while, still Musick plays.

SONG.

_Love _in fantastick Triumph sat,
Whilst bleeding Hearts around him flow’d,
For whom fresh Pains he did create,
And strange Tyrannick Pow’r he shewed;
From thy bright Eyes he took his Fires,
Which round about in sport he hurl’d;
But ‘twas from mine he took Desires,
Enough t’undo the amorous World.

From me he took his Sighs and Tears,
From thee his Pride and Cruelty;
From me his Languishments and Fears,
And ev’ry killing Dart from thee:
Thus thou, and I, the God have arrri’d,
And set him up a Deity;
But my poor Heart alone is harm’d,
Whilst thine the Victor is, and free_.

[After which he rouzes, and gazes.

Abd. On me this Musick lost?—this Sound on me That hates all Softness?—What, ho, my Slaves!

Enter Osmin, Zarrack.

Osm. My gracious Lord—

[Enter Queen, Elvira.

Qu. My dearest Abdelazer—

Abd. Oh, are you there?—Ye Dogs, how came she in? Did I not charge you on your Lives to watch, That none disturb my Privacy?

Qu. My gentle Abdelazer, ‘tis thy Queen, Who ‘as laid aside the Business of her State, To wanton in the kinder Joys of Love— Play all your sweetest Notes, such as inspire The active Soul with new and soft Desire, [To the Musick, they play softly. Whilst we from Eyes—thus dying, fan the Fire. [She sits down by him.

Abd. Cease that ungrateful Noise. [Musick ceases.

Qu. Can ought that I command displease my Moor?

Abd. Away, fond Woman.

Qu. Nay, prithee be more kind.

Abd. Nay, prithee, good Queen, leave me—I am dull, Unfit for Dalliance now.

Qu. Why dost thou frown?—to whom was that Curse sent?

Abd. To thee—

Qu. To me?—it cannot be—to me, sweet Moor?—
No, no, it cannot—prithee smile upon me—
Smile, whilst a thousand Cupids shall descend
And call thee Jove, and wait upon thy Smiles,
Deck thy smooth Brow with Flowers;
Whilst in my Eyes, needing no other Glass,
Thou shalt behold and wonder at thy Beauty.

Abd. Away, away, be gone—

Qu. Where hast thou learnt this Language, that can say But those rude Words—Away, away, be gone? Am I grown ugly now?

Abd. Ugly as Hell—

Qu. Didst thou not love me once, and swore that Heav’n Dwelt in my Face and Eyes?

Abd. Thy Face and Eyes!—Baud, fetch me here a Glass,
[To Elvira.
And thou shalt see the Balls of both those Eyes
Burning with Fire of Lust:
That Blood that dances in thy Cheeks so hot,
That have not I to cool it
Made an Extraction even of my Soul,
Decay’d my Youth, only to feed thy Lust?
And wou’dst thou still pursue me to my Grave?

Qu. All this to me, my Abdelazer?

Abd. I cannot ride through the Castilian Streets,
But thousand Eyes throw killing Looks at me,
And cry—That’s he that does abuse our King—
There goes the Minion of the Spanish Queen,
Who, on the lazy Pleasures of his Love,
Spends the Revenues of the King of Spain—
This many-headed Beast your Lust has arm’d.

Qu. How dare you, Sir, upbraid me with my Love?

Abd. I will not answer thee, nor hear thee speak.

Qu. Not hear me speak!—Yes, and in Thunder too;
Since all my Passion, all my soft Intreaties
Can do no good upon thee,
I’ll see (since thou hast banish’d all thy Love,
That Love, to which I’ve sacrific’d my Honour)
If thou hast any Sense of Gratitude,
For all the mighty Graces I have done thee.

Abd. Do;—and in thy Story too, do not leave out
How dear those mighty Graces I have purchas’d;
My blooming Youth, my healthful vigorous Youth,
Which Nature gave me for more noble Actions
Than to lie fawning at a Woman’s Feet,
And pass my Hours in Idleness and Love—
If I cou’d blush, I shou’d thro all this Cloud
Send forth my Sense of Shame into my Cheeks.

Qu. Ingrate!
Have I for this abus’d the best of Men,
My noble Husband?
Depriving him of all the Joys of Love,
To bring them all intirely to thy Bed;
Neglected all my Vows, and sworn ‘em here a-new,
Here, on thy Lips—
Exhausted Treasures that wou’d purchase Crowns,
To buy thy Smiles—to buy a gentle Look;
And when thou didst repay me—blest the Giver?
Oh, Abdelazer, more than this I’ve done—
This very Hour, the last the King can live,
Urg’d by thy Witch-craft, I his Life betray’d;
And is it thus my Bounties are repaid?
Whate’er a Crime so great deserves from Heav’n,
By Abdelazer might have been forgiven: [Weeps.
But I will be reveng’d by penitence,
And e’er the King dies, own my black Offence—
And yet that’s not enough—Elvira— [Pauses.
Cry murder, murder, help, help.

[She and her Women cry aloud, he is surpriz’d, the Queen falls, he draws a Dagger at Elvira.

Elv. Help, murder, murder!—

Abd. Hell, what’s this?—peace, Baud—’sdeath,
They’ll raise the Court upon me, and then I’m lost—
My Queen—my Goddess—Oh raise your lovely Eyes,
I have dissembled Coldness all this while;
And that Deceit was but to try thy Faith.
[Takes her up, sets her in a Chair, then kneels.
Look up—by Heav’n,’.was Jealousy—
Pardon your Slave—pardon your poor Adorer.

Qu. Thou didst upbraid me with my shameful Passion.

Abd. I’ll tear my Tongue out for its Profanation.

Qu. And when I woo’d thee but to smile upon me, Thou cry’st—Away, I’m dull, unfit for Dalliance.

Abd. Call back the frighted Blood into thy Cheeks, And I’ll obey the Dictates of my Love, And smile, and kiss, and dwell for ever here— Enter Osmin hastily. How now—why star’st thou so?

Osm. My Lord—the King is dead.

Abd. The King dead!—’Twas time then to dissemble. [Aside. What means this Rudeness?— [One knocks.

Enter Zarrack.

Zar. My Lord—the Cardinal inquiring for the Queen, The Court is in an uproar, none can find her.

Abd. Not find the Queen! and wou’d they search her here?

Qu. What shall I do? I must not here be found.

Abd. Oh, do not fear—no Cardinal enters here;
No King—no God, that means to be secure—
Slaves guard the Doors, and suffer none to enter,
Whilst I, my charming Queen, provide for your Security—
You know there is a Vault deep under Ground,
Into the which the busy Sun ne’er enter’d,
But all is dark, as are the Shades of Hell,
Thro which in dead of Night I oft have pass’d,
Guided by Love, to your Apartment, Madam—
They knock agen—thither, my lovely Mistress, [Knock.
Suffer your self to be conducted—

Osmin, attend the Queen—descend in haste, [Queen, Osm. and Elv. descend the Vault. My Lodgings are beset.

Zar. I cannot guard the Lodgings longer— Don Ordonio, Sir, to seek the Queen—

Abd. How dare they seek her here?

Zar. My Lord, the King has swounded twice, And being recover’d, calls for her Majesty.

Abd. The King not dead!—go, Zafrack, and aloud Tell Don Ordonio and the Cardinal, He that dares enter here to seek the Queen, [Puts his Hand to his Sword. Had better snatch the She from the fierce side Of a young amorous Lion, and ‘twere safer.— Again, more knocking!— [Knocking.

Zar. My gracious Lord, it is your Brother, Don Alonzo.

Abd. I will not have him enter—I am disorder’d.

Zar. My Lord, ‘tis now too late. Enter Alonzo.

Alon. Saw you not the Queen, my Lord?

Abd. My Lord!

Alon. Was not the Queen here with you?

Abd. The Queen with me!
Because, Sir, I am married to your Sister,
You, like your Sister, must be jealous too:
The Queen with me! with me! a Moor! a Devil!
A Slave of Barbary! for so
Your gay young Courtiers christen me—But, Don,
Altho my Skin be black, within my Veins
Runs Blood as red, and royal as the best.—
My Father, Great Abdela, with his Life
Lost too his Crown; both most unjustly ravish’d
By Tyrant Philip, your old King I mean.
How many Wounds his valiant Breast receiv’d
E’er he would yield to part with Life and Empire:
Methinks I see him cover’d o’er with Blood,
Fainting amidst those numbers he had conquer’d.
I was but young, yet old enough to grieve,
Tho not revenge, or to defy my Fetters:
For then began my Slavery; and e’er since
Have seen that Diadem by this Tyrant worn,
Which crown’d the sacred Temples of my Father,
And shou’d adorn mine now—shou’d! nay, and must—
Go tell him what I say—’twill be but Death—
Go, Sir,—the Queen’s not here.

Alon. Do not mistake me, Sir,—or if I wou’d, I’ve no old King to tell—the King is dead— And I am answer’d, Sir, to what I came for, And so good night. [Exit.

Abd. Now all that’s brave and villain seize my Soul,
Reform each Faculty that is not ill,
And make it fit for Vengeance, noble Vengeance.
Oh glorious Word! fit only for the Gods,
For which they form’d their Thunder,
Till Man usurp’d their Power, and by Revenge
Sway’d Destiny as well as they, and took their trade of killing.
And thou, almighty Love,
Dance in a thousand forms about my Person,
That this same Queen, this easy Spanish Dame,
May be bewitch’d, and dote upon me still;
Whilst I make use of the insatiate Flame
To set all Spain on fire.—
Mischief, erect thy Throne,
And sit on high; here, here upon my Head.
Let Fools fear Fate, thus I my Stars defy:
The influence of this—must raise my Glory high.
[_Pointing to his Sword.

[Exit_.

SCENE II. A Room in the Palace.

Enter Ferdinand weeping, Ordonio bearing the Crown,
followed by Alonzo, leading Leonora weeping; Florella,
Roderigo, Mendozo, met by the Queen weeping;
Elvira and Women.

Qu. What doleful Cry was that, which like the Voice
Of angry Heav’n struck thro my trembling Soul?
Nothing but horrid Shrieks, nothing but Death;
Whilst I, bowing my Knees to the cold Earth,
Drowning my Cheeks in Rivulets of Tears,
Sending up Prayers in Sighs, t’ implore from Heaven
Health for the Royal Majesty of Spain—
All cry’d, the Majesty of Spain is dead.
Whilst the sad Sound flew through the ecchoing Air,
And reach’d my frighted Soul—Inform my Fears,
Oh my Fernando, oh my gentle Son—
[Weeps.

King. Madam, read here the truth, if looks can shew
That which I cannot speak, and you wou’d know:
The common Fare in ev’ry face appears;
A King’s great loss the publick Grief declares,
But ‘tis a Father’s Death that claims my Tears.
[Card. leads in the Queen attended.

Leon. Ah, Sir!
If you thus grieve, who ascend by what y’ave lost,
To all the Greatness that a King can boast;
What Tributes from my Eyes and Heart are due,
Who’ve lost at once a King and Father too?

King. My Leonora cannot think my Grief
Can from those empty Glories find relief;
Nature within my Soul has equal share,
And that and Love surmount my Glory there.
Had Heav’n continu’d Royal Philip’s Life,
And giv’n me bright Florella for a Wife,
[Bows to Florella.
To Crown and Scepters I had made no claim,
But ow’d my Blessings only to my Flame.
But Heav’n well knew in giving thee away, [To Flor.
I had no bus’ness for another Joy. [Weeps.
The King, Alanzo, with his dying Breath,
[Turns to Alon. and Leon.
To you my beauteous Sister did bequeath;
And I his Generosity approve,
And think you worthy Leonora’s Love.

Enter Card. and Queen weeping.

Alon. Too gloriously my Services are paid,
In the possession of this Royal Maid,
To whom my guilty Heart durst ne’er aspire,
But rather chose to languish in its Fire.

Enter Philip in a Rage, Antonio and Sebastian.

Phil. I know he is not dead; what envious Powers
Durst snatch him hence? he was all great and good,
As fit to be ador’d as they above.
Where is the Body of my Royal Father?
That Body which inspir’d by’s sacred Soul,
Aw’d all the Universe with ev’ry Frown,
And taught ‘em all Obedience with his Smiles.
Why stand you thus distracted—Mother—Brother—
My Lords—Prince Cardinal—
Has Sorrow struck you dumb?
Is this my Welcome from the Toils of War?
When in his Bosom I shou’d find repose,
To meet it cold and pale!—Oh, guide me to him,
And with my Sighs I’ll breathe new Life into’t.

King. There’s all that’s left of Royal Philip now, [Phil, goes out. Pay all thy Sorrow there—whilst mine alone Are swoln too high t’ admit of Lookers on. [Ex. King weeping.

Philip returns weeping.

Phil. His Soul is fled to all Eternity;
And yet methought it did inform his Body,
That I, his darling Philip, was arriv’d
With Conquest on my Sword; and even in Death
Sent me his Joy in Smiles.

Qu. If Souls can after Death have any Sense Of human things, his will be proud to know That Philip is a Conqueror. Enter Abdelazer. But do not drown thy Laurels thus in Tears, Such Tributes leave to us, thou art a Soldier.

Phil. Gods! this shou’d be my Mother—

Men. It is, great Sir, the Queen.

Phil. Oh, she’s too foul for one or t’other Title.

Qu. How, Sir, do you not know me?

Phil. When you were just, I did,
And with a Reverence, such as we pay Heav’n,
I paid my awful Duty;—
But as you have abus’d my Royal Father,
For such a Sin the basest of your Slaves
Wou’d blush to call you Mother.

Qu. What means my Son?

Phil. Son! by Heav’n, I scorn the Title.

Qu. Oh Insolence!—out of my sight, rude Boy.

Phil. We must not part so, Madam;
I first must let you know your Sin and Shame;—
Nay, hear me calmly—for, by Heav’n, you shall—
My Father whilst he liv’d, tir’d his strong Arm
With numerous Battles ‘gainst the Enemy,
Wasting his Brains in warlike Stratagems;
To bring Confusion on the faithless Moors,
Whilst you, lull’d in soft Peace at home, betray’d
His Name to everlasting Infamy;
Suffer’d his Bed to be defil’d with Lust,
Gave up your self, your Honour, and your Vows,
To wanton in yon sooty Lecher’s Arms.
[Points to Abd.

Abd. Me, dost thou mean?

Phil. Yes, Villain, thee, thou Hell-begotten Fiend, ’.is thee I mean.

Qu. Oh most unnatural, to dishonour me!

Phil. That Dog you mean, that has dishonour’d you, Dishonour’d me, these Lords, nay, and all Spain; This Devil’s he, that—

Abd. That—what—Oh pardon me if I throw off
All Ties of Duty:—wert thou ten King’s Sons,
And I as many Souls as I have Sins,
Thus I would hazard all.
[Draws, they all run between.

Phil. Stand off—or I’ll make way upon thy Bosom.

Abd. How got you, Sir, this daring?

Phil. From injur’d Philip’s Death,
Who, whilst he liv’d, unjustly cherish’d thee,
And set thee up beyond the reach of Fate;
Blind with thy brutal Valor, deaf with thy Flatteries,
Discover’d not the Treason thou didst act,
Nor none durst let him know ‘em—but did he live,
I wou’d aloud proclaim them in his Ears.

Abd. You durst as well been damn’d.

Phil. Hell seize me if I want Revenge for this—
Not dare!
Arise, thou injur’d Ghost of my dead King,
And thro thy dreadful Paleness dart a Horror,
May fright this pair of Vipers from their Sins.

Abd. Oh insupportable! dost hear me, Boy?

Qu. Are ye all mute, and hear me thus upbraided? [To the Lords.

Phil. Dare ye detain me whilst the Traitor braves me?

Men. Forbear, my Prince, keep in that noble Heat That shou’d be better us’d than on a Slave.

Abd. You politick Cheat—

Men. Abdelazer—
By the Authority of my Government,
Which yet I hold over the King of Spain,
By Warrant of a Council from the Peers,
And (as an Unbeliever) from the Church,
I utterly deprive thee of that Greatness,
Those Offices and Trusts you hold in Spain.

Abd. Cardinal—who lent thee this Commission? Grandees of Spain, do you consent to this?

All. We do.

Alon. What Reason for it? let his Faith be try’d.

Men. It needs no tryal, the Proofs are evident, And his Religion was his Veil for Treason.

Alon. Why should you question his Religion, Sir? He does profess Christianity.

Men. Yes, witness his Habit which he still retains In scorn to ours— His Principles are too as unalterable.

Abd. Is that the only Argument you bring?
I tell thee, Cardinal, not thy Holy Gown
Covers a Soul more sanctify’d than this
Moorish Robe.

Phil. Damn his Religion—he has a thousand Crimes That will yet better justify your Sentence.

Men. Come not within the Court; for if you do, Worse mischief shall ensue—you have your Sentence. [Ex. Phil, and Men.

Alon. My Brother banish’d! ‘tis very sudden; For thy sake, Sister, this must be recall’d. [To Flor.

Qu. Alonzo, join with me, I’ll to the King, And check the Pride of this insulting Cardinal. [Exeunt all, except Abdelazer, Florella.

Abd. Banish’d! if I digest this Gall,
May Cowards pluck the Wreath from off my Brow,
Which I have purchas’d with so many Wounds,
And all for Spain; for Spain! ingrateful Spain!—
Oh, my Florella, all my Glory’s vanish’d,
The Cardinal (Oh damn him) wou’d have me banish’d.

Flor. But, Sir, I hope you will not tamely go.

Abd. Tamely!—ha, ha, ha,—yes, by all means— A very honest and religious Cardinal!

Flor. I wou’d not for the World you should be banish’d.

Abd. Not Spain, you mean—for then she leaves the King. [Aside.
What if I be?—Fools! not to know—All parts o’ th’ World
Allow enough for Villany; for I’ll be brave no more.
It is a Crime—and then I can live any where—
But say I go from hence—I leave behind me
A Cardinal that will laugh—I leave behind me
A Philip that will clap his Hands in sport—
But the worst Wound is this, I leave my Wrongs,
Dishonours, and my Discontents, all unreveng’d—
Leave me, Florella—prithee do not weep;
I love thee, love thee wondrously—go leave me—
I am not now at leisure to be fond—
Go to your Chamber—go.

Flor. No, to the King I’ll fly, And beg him to revenge thy Infamy. [Ex. Flor. To him Alonzo.

Alon. The Cardinal’s mad to have thee banish’d Spain. I’ve left the Queen in angry Contradiction, But yet I fear the Cardinal’s Reasoning.

Abd. This Prince’s Hate proceeds from Love, He’s jealous of the Queen, and fears my Power. [Aside.

Alon. Come, rouse thy wonted Spirits, awake thy Soul, And arm thy Justice with a brave Revenge.

Abd. I’ll arm no Justice with a brave Revenge.
[Sullenly.

Alon. Shall they then triumph o’er thee, who were once Proud to attend thy conqu’ring Chariot-Wheels?

Abd. I care not—I am a Dog, and can bear wrongs.

Alon. But, Sir, my Honour is concern’d with yours, Since my lov’d Sister did become your Wife; And if yours suffer, mine too is unsafe.

Abd. I cannot help it—

Alon. What Ice has chill’d thy Blood? This Patience was not wont to dwell with thee.

Abd. ‘Tis true; but now the World is chang’d you see.
Thou art too brave to know what I resolve— [Aside.
No more—here comes the King with my Florella.
He loves her, and she swears to me she’s chaste;
’.is well, if true—well too, if it be false: [Aside.
I care not, ‘tis Revenge
That I must sacrifice my Love and Pleasure to.
[Alon. and Abd. stand aside.

_Enter King, Lords, Guards passing over the Stage,
Florella in a suppliant posture weeping.

King. Thou woo’st me to reverse thy Husband’s Doom,
And I woo thee for Mercy on my self,
Why shoud’st thou sue to him for Life and Liberty,
For any other, who himself lies dying,
Imploring from thy Eyes a little Pity?

Flor. Oh mighty King! in whose sole Power, like Heav’n, The Lives and Safeties of your Slaves remain, Hear and redress my Abdelazer’s Wrongs.

King. All Lives and Safeties in my Power remain!
Mistaken charming Creature, if my Power
Be such, who kneel and bow to thee,
What must thine be,
Who hast the Sovereign Command o’er me and it?
Wou’dst thou give Life? turn but thy lovely Eyes
Upon the wretched thing that wants it,
And he will surely live, and live for ever.
Canst thou do this, and com’st to beg of me?

Flor. Alas, Sir, what I beg’s what you alone can give, My Abdelazer’s Pardon.

King. Pardon! can any thing ally’d to thee offend?
Thou art so sacred and so innocent,
That but to know thee, and to look on thee,
Must change even Vice to Virtue.
Oh my Florella!
So perfectly thou dost possess my Soul,
That ev’ry Wish of thine shall be obey’d:
Say, wou’dst thou have thy Husband share my Crown?
Do but submit to love me, and I yield it.

Flor. Such Love as humble Subjects owe their King. [Kneels, he takes her up. And such as I dare pay, I offer here.

King. I must confess it is a Price too glorious: But, my Florella—

Abd. I’ll interrupt your amorous Discourse. [Aside.
[Abd. comes up to them.

Flor. Sir, Abdelazer’s here.

King. His Presence never was less welcome to me;— [Aside. But, Madam, durst the Cardinal use this Insolence? Where is your noble Husband?

Abd. He sees me, yet inquires for me. [Aside.

Flor. Sir, my Lord is here.

King. Abdelazer, I have heard with much surprize,
O’ th’ Injuries you’ve receiv’d, and mean to right you:
My Father lov’d you well, made you his General,
I think you worthy of that Honour still.

Abd. True—for my Wife’s sake. [Aside.

King. When my Coronation is solemnized, Be present there, and re-assume your wonted State and Place; And see how I will check the insolent Cardinal.

Abd. I humbly thank my Sovereign—
[Kneels, and kisses the King’s Hand.
That he loves my Wife so well. [Aside.
[Exeunt.
Manent Abdelazer, Florella.

Flor. Wilt thou not pay my Service with one Smile? Have I not acted well the Suppliant’s part?

Abd. Oh wonderfully! y’ave learnt the Art to move. Go, leave me.

Flor. Still out of humour, thoughtful and displeas’d? And why at me, my Abdelazer? what have I done?

Abd. Rarely! you cannot do amiss you are so beautiful.
So very fair—Go, get you in, I say—
[Turns her in roughly.
She has the art of dallying with my Soul,
Teaching it lazy softness from her Looks.
But now a nobler Passion’s enter’d there,
And blows it thus—to Air—Idol Ambition,
Florella must to thee a Victim fall:
Revenge,—to thee—a Cardinal and Prince:
And to my Love and Jealousy, a King—
More yet, my mighty Deities, I’ll do,
None that you e’er inspir’d like me shall act;
That fawning servile Crew shall follow next,
Who with the Cardinal cry’d, banish Abdelazer.

_Like Eastern Monarchs I’ll adorn thy Fate,
And to the Shades thou shalt descend in State.

[Exit_.

ACT II.

SCENE I. A Chamber of State.

Enter the King crown’d, Philip, Mendozo, Queen, Leonora,
Florella, Elvira, Alonzo, Roderigo, Ordonio, Sebastian,
Antonio, Officers and Guards; met by Abdelazer follow’d
by Osmin, Zarrack, and Moors attending. He comes in with
Pride, staring on Philip and Mendozo, and takes his stand
next the King.

Phil. Why stares the Devil thus, as if he meant
From his infectious Eyes to scatter Plagues,
And poison all the World? Was he not banish’d?
How dares the Traitor venture into th’ Presence?—
Guards, spurn the Villain forth.

Abd. Who spurns the Moor Were better set his foot upon the Devil— Do, spurn me, and this Hand thus justly arm’d, Shall like a Thunder-bolt, breaking the Clouds, Divide his Body from his Soul—stand back— [To the Guards. Spurn Abdelazer!—

Phil. Death, shall we bear this Insolence?

Alon. Great Sir, I think his Sentence was unjust. [To the King.

Men. Sir, you’re too partial to be judge in this, And shall not give your Voice.

Abd. Proud Cardinal—but he shall—and give it loud. And shall not!—who shall hinder him?

Phil. This—and cut his Wind-pipe too.
[Offers to draw.
To spoil his whisp’ring.
[Abd. offers to draw, his Attendants do the same.

King. What means this Violence? Forbear to draw your Swords—’tis we command.

Abd. Sir, do me Justice, I demand no more. [Kneels, and offers his Sword. And at your Feet we lay our Weapons down.

Men. Sir, Abdelazer has had Justice done, And stands by me banish’d the Court of Spain.

King. How, Prince Cardinal! From whence do you derive Authority To banish him the Court without our leave?

Men. Sir, from my Care unto your royal Person, As I’m your Governor—then for the Kingdom’s Safety.

King. Because I was a Boy, must I be still so?
Time, Sir, has given me in that formal Ceremony,
And I am of an age to rule alone;
And from henceforth discharge you of your Care.
We know your near relation to this Crown,
And wanting Heirs, that you must fill the Throne;
Till when, Sir, I am absolute Monarch here,
And you must learn Obedience.

Men. Pardon my zealous Duty, which I hope You will approve, and not recal his Banishment.

King. Sir, but I will; and who dares contradict It, is a Traitor.

Phil. I dare the first, yet do defy the last.

King. My hot-brain’d Sir, I’ll talk to you anon.

Men. Sir, I am wrong’d, and will appeal to Rome.

Phil. By Heav’n, I’ll to the Camp—Brother, farewel,
When next I meet thee, it shall be in Arms,
If thou can’st get loose from thy Mistress’ Chains,
Where thou ly’st drown’d in idle wanton Love.

Abd. Hah—his Mistress—who is’t Prince Philip means?

Phil. Thy Wife, thy Wife, proud Moor, whom thou’rt content To sell for Honour to eternal Infamy— Does’t make thee snarl?—Bite on, whilst thou shalt see, I go for Vengeance, and ‘twill come with me. [Going out, turns and draws.

Abd. Stay! for ‘tis here already—turn, proud Boy. [Abd. draws.

King. What mean you, Philip?—[Talks to him aside.

Qu. Cease, cease your most impolitick Rage. [To Abd. Is this a time to shew’t?—Dear Son, you are a King, And may allay this Tempest.

King. How dare you disobey my Will and Pleasure? [To Abd.

Abd. Shall I be calm, and hear my Wife call’d Whore? Were he great Jove, and arm’d with all his Lightning, By Heav’n, I could not hold my just Resentment.

Qu. ‘Twas in his Passion, noble Abdelazer—
[King talking to Phil. aside.
Imprudently thou dost disarm thy Rage,
And giv’st the Foe a warning, e’er thou strik’st;
When with thy Smiles thou might’st securely kill.
You know the Passion that the Cardinal bears me;
His Pow’r too o’er Philip, which well manag’d
Will serve to ruin both: put up your Sword—
When next you draw it, teach it how to act.

Abd. You shame me, and command me.

Qu. Why all this Rage?—does it become you, Sir? [To Men. aside. What is’t you mean to do?

Men. You need not care, whilst Abdelazer’s safe.

Qu. Jealousy, upon my Life—how gay it looks!

Men. Madam, you want that pitying Regard
To value what I do, or what I am;
I’ll therefore lay my Cardinal’s Hat aside,
And in bright Arms demand my Honour back.

Qu. Is’t thus, my Lord, you give me Proofs of Love?
Have then my Eyes lost all their wonted Power?
And can you quit the hope of gaining me,
To follow your Revenge?—go—go to fight,
Bear Arms against your Country, and your King,
All for a little worthless Honour lost.

Men. What is it, Madam, you would have me do?

Qu. Not side with Philip, as you hope my Grace— Now, Sir, you know my Pleasure, think on’t well.

Men. Madam, you know your Power o’er your Slave,
And use it too tyrannically—but dispose
The Fate of him, whose Honour, and whose Life,
Lies at your Mercy—
I’ll stay and die, since ‘tis your gracious Pleasure.

King. Philip, upon your Life, Upon your strict Allegiance, I conjure you To remain at Court, till I have reconcil’d you.

Phil. Never, Sir; Nor can you bend my Temper to that Tameness.

King. ‘Tis in my Power to charge you as a Prisoner; But you’re my Brother—yet remember too I am your King—No more.

Phil. I will obey.

King. Abdelazer,
I beg you will forget your Cause of Hate
Against my Brother Philip, and the Cardinal;
He’s young, and rash, but will be better temper’d.

Abd. Sir, I have done, and beg your royal Pardon.

King. Come, Philip, give him your Hand.

Phil. I can forgive without a Ceremony.

King. And to confirm ye Friends,
I invite you all to Night to banquet with me;
Pray see you give Attendance—Come, Brother,
You must along with us.

[Exeunt all but Abd. Queen and Women.

Qu. Leave me— [To the Women, who go out. Now my dear Moor.

Abd. Madam.

Qu. Why dost thou answer with that cold Reserve— Is that a Look—an Action for a Lover?

Abd. Ah, Madam—

Qu. Have I not taken off thy Banishment?
Restor’d thee to thy former State and Honours?
Nay, and heap’d new ones too, too mighty for thy Hopes;
And still to raise thee equal to this Heart,
Where thou must ever reign.

Abd. ‘Tis true, my bounteous Mistress, all this you’ve done— But—

Qu. But what, my Abdelazer?

Abd. I will not call it to your Memory.

Qu. What canst thou mean?

Abd. Why was the King remov’d?

Qu. To make thy way more easy to my Arms.

Abd. Was that all?

Qu. All!

Abd. Not but it is a Blessing Gods would languish for— But as you’ve made it free, so make it just.

Qu. Thou mean’st, marry thee.

Abd. No, by the Gods— [Aside. Not marry thee, unless I were a King.

Qu. What signifies the Name to him that rules one?

Abd. What use has he of Life, that cannot live Without a Ruler?

Qu. Thou wouldst not have me kill him.

Abd. Oh, by no means, not for my wretched Life!
What, kill a King!—forbid it, Heaven:
Angels stand like his Guards about his Person.
The King!
Not so many Worlds as there be Stars
Twinkling upon the embroider’d Firmament!
The King!
He loves my Wife Florella, shou’d he die—
I know none else durst love her.

Qu. And that’s the Reason you wou’d send him hence.

Abd. I must confess, I wou’d not bear a wrong: But do not take me for a Villain, Madam; He is my King, and may do what he pleases.

Qu. ‘Tis well, Sir.

Abd. Again that Frown, it renders thee more charming Than any other Dress thou could’st put on.

Qu. Away, you do not love me.

Abd. Now mayst thou hate me, if this be not pretty.

Qu. Oh, you can flatter finely—

Abd. Not I, by Heaven:
Oh, that this Head were circled in a Crown,
And I were King, by Fortune, as by Birth!
And that I was, till by thy Husband’s Power
I was divested in my Infancy—
Then you shou’d see, I do not flatter ye.
But I, instead of that, must see my Crown
Bandy’d from Head to Head, and tamely see it:
And in this wretched state I live, ‘tis true;
But with what Joy, you, if you lov’d, might guess.

Qu. We need no Crowns; Love best contented is
In shady Groves, and humble Cottages,
Where when ‘twould sport, it safely may retreat,
Free from the Noise and Danger of the Great;
Where Victors are ambitious of no Bays,
But what their Nymphs bestow on Holy-days;
Nor Envy can the amorous Shepherd move,
Unless against a Rival in his Love.

Abd. Love and Ambition are the same to me, In either I’ll no Rivals brook.

Qu. Nor I:
And when the King you urge me to remove,
It may be from Ambition, not from Love.

Abd. Those Scruples did not in your Bosom dwell, When you a King did in a Husband kill.

Qu. How, Sir, dare you upbraid me with that Sin, To which your Perjuries first drew me in?

Abd. You interrupt my Sense; I only meant
A Sacrifice to Love so well begun
Shou’d not Devotion want to finish it;
And if that stop to all our Joys were gone,
The envying World wou’d to our Power submit:
But Kings are sacred, and the Gods alone
Their Crimes must judge, and punish too, or none—
Yet he alone destroys his Happiness.

Qu. There’s yet one more—

Abd. One more! give me his Name, And I will turn it to a Magick Spell, To bind him ever fast.

Qu. Florella.

Abd. Florella! Oh, I cou’d gnaw my Chains "
That humble me so low as to adore her: " [Aside.
But the fond Blaze must out—while I erect "
A nobler Fire more fit for my Ambition. "
—Florella dies—a Victim to your Will.
I will not let you lose one single Wish,
For a poor Life, or two;
Tho I must see my Glories made a Prey,
And not demand ‘em from the Ravisher;
Nor yet complain—because he is my King:
But Philip’s Brow no sacred Ointment deifies,
If he do wrong, stands fair for the Revenger.

Qu. Philip! instruct me how t’ undo that Boy I hate; The publick Infamy I have receiv’d, I will revenge with nothing less than Death.

Abd. ‘Tis well we can agree in our Resentments,
For I have vow’d he shall not live a day;
He has an Art to pry into our Secrets:
To all besides our Love is either hid,
Or else they dare not see—But this Prince
Has a most dangerous Spirit must be calm’d.

Qu. I have resolv’d his Death, And now have waiting in my Cabinet, Engines to carry on this mighty Work of my Revenge.

Abd. Leave that to me, who equally am injur’d;
You, like the Gods, need only but command,
And I will execute your sacred Will—
That done, there’s none dare whisper what we do.

Qu. Nature, be gone, I chase thee from my Soul,
Who Love’s almighty Empire does controul:
And she that will to thy dull Laws submit,
In spite of thee, betrays the Hypocrite.
No rigid Virtue shall my Soul possess,
Let Gown-men preach against the Wickedness;
Pleasures were made by Gods, and meant for us,
And not t’ enjoy ‘em, were ridiculous.

Abd. Oh perfect, great and glorious of thy Sex!
Like thy great self ‘twas spoke, resolv’d and brave—
I must attend the King—where I will watch
All Philip’s Motions.

Qu. And—after that—if you will beg Admittance, I’ll give you leave to visit me to Night.

Abd. Madam, that Blessing now must be defer’d. [Leads her to the Door. My Wrongs and I will be retir’d to Night, And bring forth Vengeance with the Morning’s Light.

Enter Osmin, Zarrack.

Osm. My gracious Lord.

Abd. Come near—and take a Secret from my Lips;
And he who keeps not silent hears his Death.—
This Night the Prince and Cardinal—do you mark me—
Are murder’d.

Osm. Where, Sir?

Abd. Here in the Court.

Osm. By whom, great Sir?

Abd. By thee—I know thou darst.

Osm. Whatever you command.

Abd. Good!—then see it be perform’d. Osmin, how goes the Night?

Osm. About the hour of Eight, And you’re expected at the Banquet, Sir: Prince Philip storms, and swears you’re with the Queen.

Abd. Let him storm on; the Tempest will be laid— Where’s my Wife?

Osm. In the Presence, Sir, with the Princess and Other Ladies.

Abd. She’s wondrous forward!—what the King—
(I am not jealous tho)—but he makes court to her.
—Hah, Osmin!
He throws out Love from Eyes all languishing;—
Come tell me,—he does sigh to her,—no matter if he do—
And fawns upon her Hand,—and kneels;—tell me, Slave!

Osm. Sir, I saw nothing like to Love; he only treats her Equal to her Quality.

Abd. Oh, damn her Quality.

Zar. I came just now
From waiting on his Person to the Banquet,
And heard him ask, if he might visit her to Night,
Having something to impart to her, that concern’d his Life.

Abd. And so it shall, by Heav’n! [Aside.

Zar. But she deny’d, and he the more intreated— But all in vain, Sir.

Abd. Go, Osmin, (you the Captain of my Guard of Moors)
Chuse out the best affected Officers,
To keep the Watch to Night—
Let every Guard be doubled—you may be liberal too—
And when I gave the Word, be ready all.

Osm. What shall the Word be?
[Ex. Zarrack.

Abd. Why—Treason—mean time make it your Business,
To watch the Prince’s coming from the Banquet;
Heated with Wine, and fearless of his Person,
You’ll find him easily to be attack’d.

Osm. Sir, do not doubt my Management nor Success.
[Ex. Osmin.

Abd. So, I thank thee, Nature, that in making me,
Thou didst design me Villain;
Hitting each Faculty for active Mischief:
Thou skilful Artist, thank thee for my Face,
It will discover nought that’s hid within.
Thus arm’d for Ills,
Darkness, and Horrour, I invoke your aid;
And thou dread Night, shade all your busy Stars
In blackest Clouds,
And let my Dagger’s Brightness only serve
To guide me to the Mark—and guide it so,
It may undo a Kingdom at one Blow.

[Exit.

SCENE II. A Banqueting Hall.

A Banquet, under a Canopy the King, Leonora, Florella, Ladies waiting; Philip, Mendozo, Alonzo, Ordonio, Antonio, Sebastian, Lords and Attendants: As soon as the Scene draws off, they all rise, and come forward.

King. My Lords, you’re sad to Night; give us loud Musick—
I have a double Cause to mourn;
And Grief has taken up his dwelling here—
Beyond the Art of Love, or Wine to conquer—
’.is true, my Father’s dead—and possibly
’.is not so decent to appear thus gay;
But Life, and Death, are equal to the wretched,
And whilst Florella frowns—’tis in that Number [To Flor.
I must account her Slave—Alonzo,
How came thy Father so bewitch’d to Valour,
(For Abdelazer has no other Virtue)
To recompense it with so fair a Creature?
Was this—a Treasure t’ inrich the Devil with?

Alon. Sir, he has many Virtues, more than Courage,
Royally born, serv’d well his King, and Country;
My Father brought him up to martial Toils,
And taught him to be brave; I hope, and good;—
Beside, he was your Royal Father’s Favourite.

King. No, Alonzo, ‘twas not his Love to Virtue,
But nice Obedience to his King, and Master,
Who seeing my increase of Passion for her,
To kill my Hopes, he gave her to this Moor.

Alon. She’s now a virtuous Woman, Sir.

King. Politick Sir, who would have made her other? Against her Will, he forc’d her to his Arms, Whilst all the World was wondring at his Madness.

Alon. He did it with her Approbation, Sir.

King. With thine, Florella! cou’dst thou be so criminal?

Flor. Sir, I was ever taught Obedience; My humble Thoughts durst ne’er aspire to you, And next to that—Death, or the Moor, or any thing.

King. Oh God! had I then told my Tale
So feebly, it could not gain Belief.
Oh my Florella! this little Faith of thine
Has quite undone thy King—Alonzo,
Why didst not thou forbid this fatal Marriage,
She being thy only Sister?

Alon. Great Sir, I did oppose it with what Violence
My Duty would permit; and wou’d have dy’d
In a just Quarrel of her dear Defence;
And, Sir, though I submitted to my Father,
The Moor and I stand on unequal Terms.

Phil. Come, who dares drink Confusion to this Moor?

Ant. That, Sir, will I.

Sebast. And I.

Phil. Page, fill my Glass, I will begin the Round, Ye all shall pledge it—Alonzo, first to thee. [Drinks.

Alon. To me, Sir!

Phil. Why, yes, thou lovest him—therefore—
Nay, you shall drink it, tho ‘twere o’th’ Stygian Lake.
Take it—by Heaven, thoud’st pimp for him to my Mother—
Nay, and after that, give him another Sister.

Alon. ‘Tis well you are my Prince.

Phil. I’d rather be a Prince of Curs—come pledge me—

Alon. Well, Sir, I’ll give you way. [Drinks.

Phil. So wou’dst thou any—though they trod on thee.
So—nay, Prince Cardinal, tho it be not decent
For one so sanctify’d to drink a Health;
Yet ‘tis your Office both to damn and bless—
Come, drink and damn the Moor.

Men. Sir, I’m for no carousing.

Phil. I’m in an Humour now to be obey’d, And must not be deny’d—But see, the Moor Enter Abdelazer, gazes on them. Just come to pledge at last—Page, fill again—

Abd. I’ll do you Reason, Prince, what’er it be. [Gives him the Glass.

Phil. ‘Twas kindly said—Confusion to the Moor.

Abd. Confusion to the Moor—if this vain Boy, See the next rising Sun. [Aside.

Phil. Well done, my Lad.

King. Abdelazer, you have been missing long, The publick Good takes up your whole Concern, But we shall shortly ease you of that Load— Come, let’s have some Musick; Ordonio, did I not call for Musick?

Ord. You did, Sir.

Abd. Roderigo!

Rod. My gracious Lord— [Roderigo whispers to Abd.

Abd. No more—the Prince observes us.

Phil. There’s no good towards when you are whisp’ring.

Ord. The Musick you commanded, Sir, is ready.

SONG.

Nymph.

Make haste, Amintas, come away,
The Sun is up and will not stay;
And oh how very short’s a Lover’s Day!
Make haste, Amintas, to this Grove,
Beneath whose Shade so oft I’ve sat,
And heard my dear lay’d Swain repeat,
How much he Galatea _lov’d;
Whilst all the listening Birds around,
Sung to the Musick of the blessed Sound.

Make haste, Amintas, come away,
The Sun is up and will not stay;
And oh how very short’s a Lover’s Day!

Swain enters, with Shepherds and Shepherdesses, and Pipes.

I hear thy charming Voice, my Fair,
And see, bright Nymph, thy Swain is here;
Who his Devotions had much earlier paid,
But that a Lamb of thine was stray’d;
And I the little Wanderer have brought,
That with one angry Look from thy fair Eyes,
Thou may’st the little Fugitive chastise,
Too great a Punishment for any Fault.
Come, Galatea, haste away,
The Sun is up and will not stay,
And oh how very short’s a Lover’s Day! [Dance.

King. How likes Florella this?

Flor. Sir, all Delight’s so banish’d from my Soul, I’ve lost the Taste of every single Joy.

Abd. God’s! this is fine! Give me your Art of Flattery,
Or something more of this, will ruin me—
Tho I’ve resolv’d her Death, yet whilst she’s mine,
I would not have her blown by Summer Flies.

Phil. Mark how he snarls upon the King! The Cur will bite anon.

Abd. Come, my Florella, is’t not Bed-time, Love?

Flor. I’ll wait upon you, Sir. [Going out.

Phil. The Moor has ta’en away, we may depart.

Abd. What has he ta’en away? [Turns about.

Phil. The fine gay play-thing, that made us all so merry.

Abd. Was this your Sport? [To his Wife.

King. Abdelazer, keep your way—Good night, fair Creature!

Abd. I will obey for once.

[Ex. Abd. and Flor.

King. Why this Resentment, Brother, and in publick?

Phil. Because he gives me Cause, and that in Publick.
And, Sir, I was not born to bear with Insolence;
I saw him dart Revenge from both his Eyes,
And bite his angry Lip between his Teeth,
To keep his Jealousy from breaking forth,
Which, when it does—stand fast, my King.

King. But, Philip, we will find a way to check him; Till when we must dissemble—take my Counsel—Good night.

Phil. I cannot, nor I will not—yet good Night.
[Exit King, and all but Philip’s Party.
Well, Friends, I see the King will sleep away his Anger,
And tamely see us murder’d by this Moor;
But I’ll be active, Boys—
Therefore, Antonio, you command the Horse;
Get what more Numbers to our Cause you can:
’.is a good Cause, and will advance our Credit.
We will awake this King out of his Lethargy of Love,
And make him absolute—Go to your Charge,
And early in the Morning I’ll be with you—
[Ex. all but Phil.
If all fail, Portugal shall be my Refuge,
Those whom so late I conquer’d, shall protect me—
But this Alanzo I shou’d make an Interest in;
Cou’d I but flatter—’tis a Youth that’s brave.

Enter Cardinal in haste.

Men. Fly, fly, my Prince, we are betray’d and lost else.

Phil. Betray’d and lost! Dreams, idle Coward Dreams.

Men. Sir, by my Holy Order, I’m in earnest, And you must either quickly fly, or die; ’.is so ordain’d—nor have I time to tell By what strange Miracle I learn’d our Fate.

Phil. Nor care I, I will stay, and brave it.

Men. That, Sir, you shall not, there’s no safety here, And ‘tis the Army only can secure us.

Phil. Where had you this Intelligence?

Men. I’ll tell you as we go to my Apartment;
Where we must put ourselves in Holy Dress;
For so the Guards are set in every Place,
(And those all Moors, the Slaves of Abdelazer)
That ‘tis impossible in any other Habit to escape.
Come, haste with me, and let us put ‘em on.

Phil. I had rather stay and kill till I am weary— Let’s to the Queen’s Apartment and seize this Moor; I’m sure there the Mongrel’s kennel’d.

Men. Sir, we lose time in talking—Come with me.

Phil. Where be these lousy Gaberdines?

Men. I will conduct you to ‘em.

Phil. Mother—and Moor, farewel, I’ll visit you again; and if I do, My black Infernal, I will conjure you.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I. A Gallery in the Palace.

Enter Abdelazer and Zarrack.

Zar. Osmin (my Lord) by this has done his Task, And Philip is no more among the living: Will you not rest to night?

Abd. Is this a time for Sleep and Idleness—dull Slaves?

Zar. The Bus’ness we have Order, Sir, to do, We can without your Aid.

Enter Osmin.

Abd. Osmin!
Thy ominous Looks presage an ill Success;
Thy Eyes no joyful News of Murders tell:
I thought I shou’d have seen thee drest in Blood—
Speak! Speak thy News—
Say that he lives, and let it be thy last.

Osm. Yes, Sir, he lives.

Abd. Lives! thou ly’st, base Coward—lives!—renounce thy Gods! It were a Sin less dangerous—speak again.

Osm. Sir, Philip lives.

Abd. Oh treacherous Slave!

Osm. Not by my Fault, by Heav’n!

Abd. By what curst Chance, If not from thee, could he evade his Fate?

Osm. By some Intelligence from his good Angel.

Abd. From his good Devil! Gods! must the Earth another Day at once Bear him and me alive?

Osm. Another Day!—an Age for ought I know; For, Sir, the Prince is fled, the Cardinal too.

Abd. Fled! fled—say’st thou? Oh, I cou’d curse the Stars, that rule this Night: ’.is to the Camp they’re fled; the only Refuge That Gods, or Men cou’d give ‘em— Where got you this Intelligence?

Osm. My Lord, inquiring for the Prince
At the Apartment of the Cardinal, (whither he went)
His Pages answer’d me, he was at his Devotions:
A lucky time (I thought) to do the Deed;
And breaking in, found only their empty Habits,
And a poor sleepy Groom, who with much threatning,
Confess’d that they were fled, in holy Robes.

Abd. That Case of Sanctity was first ordain’d,
To cheat the honest World:
Twas an unlucky Chance—but we are idle—
Let’s see, how from this ill, we may advance a good—
[Pauses.
’.is now dead time of Night, when Rapes, and Murders
Are hid beneath the horrid Veil of Darkness—
I’ll ring thro all the Court, with doleful Sound
The sad Alarms of Murder—Murder—Zarrack,
Take up thy standing yonder—Osmin, thou
At the Queen’s Apartment—cry out, Murder:
Whilst I, like his ill Genius, do awake the King;
Perhaps in this Disorder I may kill him. [Aside.
—Treason—Murder—Murder—Treason.

Enter Alonzo, and Courtiers.

Alon. What dismal Crys are these?—

Abd. Where is the King?—Treason—Murder! Where—is the sleeping Queen?—Arise, arise.

Osm. The Devil taught him all his Arts of Falshood. [Aside.

Enter King in a Night-Gown, with Lights.

King. Who frights our quiet Slumbers with this Noise?

Enter Queen and Women, with Lights.

Qu. Was it a Dream, or did I hear the Sound Of Treason, call me from my silent Griefs?

King. Who rais’d this Rumour, Abdelazer, you?

Abd. I did, Great Sir.

King. Your Reasons.

Abd. Oh Sir, your Brother Philip, and the Cardinal,
Both animated by a Sense of Wrongs,
(And envying, Sir, the Fortune of your Slave)
Had laid a Plot this Night, to murder you:
And ‘cause they knew it was my waiting Night,
They wou’d have laid the Treason, Sir, on me.

King. The Cardinal, and my Brother! bring them forth, Their Lives shall answer it.

Abd. Sir, ‘tis impossible: For when they found their Villany discover’d, They in two Friers Habits made escape.

King. That Cardinal is subtle, and ambitious, And from him Philip learnt his dangerous Principles.

Qu. The Ambition of the one infects the other,
And they are both too dangerous to live—
But might a Mother’s Counsel be obey’d,
I wou’d advise you, send the valiant Moor
To fetch ‘em back, e’er they can reach the Camp:
For thither they are fled—where they will find
A Welcome fatal to us all.

King. Madam, you counsel well; and, Abdelazer,
Make it your Care to fetch these Traitors back,
Not only for my Safety, and the Kingdom’s,
But as they are your Enemies; and th’ envious World
Will say, you made this story to undo ‘em.

Abd. Sir, I’ll obey; nor will I know repose, Till I have justify’d this fatal Truth. [Abd. goes to the Queen, and talks to her.

King. Mean time I will to my Florella’s Lodging,
Silence, and Night, are the best Advocates [Aside.
To plead a Lover’s Cause—Abdelazer—haste.
Madam, I’ll wait on you to your Chamber.

Abd. Sir, that’s my Duty.

King. Madam, good Night—Alonzo, to your rest. [Ex. all but Qu. and Abd.

Qu. Philip escap’d!
Oh, that I were upon some Desart Shoar,
Where I might only to the Waves and Winds
Breathe out my Sense of Rage for this Defeat.

Abd. Oh, ‘tis no time for Rage, but Action, Madam.

Qu. Give me but any Hopes of blest Revenge, And I will be as calm as happy Lovers.

Abd. There is a way, and is but that alone; But such a way, as never must be nam’d.

Qu. How! not be nam’d! Oh, swear thou hat’st me rather, It were a Torment equal to thy Silence.

Abd. I’ll shew my Passion rather in that Silence.

Qu. Kind Torturer, what mean’st thou?

Abd. To shew you, Madam, I had rather live Wrong’d and contemn’d by Philip, Than have your dearer Name made infamous.

Qu. Heavens! dost thou mock my Rage? can any Sin
I could commit, undo my Honour more
Than his late Insolence?
Oh, name me something may revenge that Shame:
I wou’d encounter killing Plagues, or Fire,
To meet it—Come, oh quickly give me ease.

Abd. I dare no more reveal the guilty Secret, Than you dare execute it when ‘tis told.

Qu. How little I am understood by thee— Come, tell me instantly, for I grow impatient; You shall obey me—nay, I do command you.

Abd. Durst you proclaim—Philip a Bastard, Madam?

Qu. Hah! proclaim my self—what he wou’d have me thought! What mean’st thou?—

Abd. Instruct you in the way to your Revenge.

Qu. Upon my self thou meanest—

Abd. No—
He’s now fled to th’ Camp, where he’ll be fortify’d
Beyond our Power to hurt, but by this means;
Which takes away his Hopes of being a King,
(For he’d no other Aim in taking Arms)
And leaves him open to the People’s Scorn;
Whom own’d as King, Numbers wou’d assist him,
And then our Lives he may dispose,
As he has done our Honours.

Qu. There’s Reason in thy Words: but oh my Fame!

Abd. Which I, by Heaven, am much more tender of,
Than my own Life or Honour; and I’ve a way
To save that too, which I’ll at leisure tell you.
In the mean time send for your Confessor,
And with a borrow’d Penitence confess,
Their Idol Philip is a Bastard;
And zealously pretend you’re urg’d by Conscience,
A cheap Pretence to cozen Fools withal.

Qu. Revenge, although I court you with my fatal Ruin, I must enjoy thee: there’s no other way, And I’m resolv’d upon the mighty Pleasure; He has profan’d my purer Flame for thee, And merits to partake the Infamy. [He leads her out.

Abd. Now have at my young King—
I know he means to cuckold me to Night,
Whilst he believes I’ll tamely step aside—
No, let Philip and the Cardinal gain the Camp,
I will not hinder ‘em—
I have a nobler Sacrifice to make
To my declining Honour, shall redeem it,
And pay it back with Interest—well, then in order to’t,
I’ll watch about the Lodgings of Florella,
And if I see this hot young Lover enter,
I’ll save my Wife the trouble of allaying
The amorous Heat—this—will more nimbly do’t,
[Snatches out his Dagger.
And do it once for all—

Enter Florella in her Night-Clothes.

Flor. My Abdelazer—why in that fierce posture, As if thy Thoughts were always bent on Death? Why is that Dagger out?—against whom drawn?

Abd. Or stay,—suppose I let him see Florella, And when he’s high with the expected Bliss, Then take him thus—Oh, ‘twere a fine surprize!

Flor. My Lord—dear Abdelazer.

Abd. Or say—I made her kill him—that were yet An Action much more worthy of my Vengeance.

Flor. Will you not speak to me? what have I done?

Abd. By Heaven, it shall be so.

Flor. What shall be so?

Abd. Hah—

Flor. Why dost thou dress thy Eyes in such unusual wonder? There’s nothing here that is a stranger to thee, Or what is not intirely thine own.

Abd. Mine!

Flor. Thou canst not doubt it.

Abd. No,—and for a proof that thou art so,—take this Dagger.

Flor. Alas, Sir!—what to do?

Abd. To stab a Heart, Florella, a Heart that loves thee.

Flor. Heaven forbid!

Abd. No matter what Heaven will, I say it must—

Flor. What must?

Abd. That Dagger must enter the Heart of him That loves thee best, Florella;—guess the Man.

Flor. What means my Moor? Wouldst thou have me kill thy self?

Abd. Yes—when I love thee better than the King.

Flor. Ah, Sir! what mean you?

Abd. To have you kill this King,
When next he does pursue thee with his Love—
What, do you weep?—
By Heaven, they shall be bloody Tears then.

Flor. I shall deserve them—when I suffer Love That is not fit to hear;—but for the King, That which he pays me, is so innocent—

Abd. So innocent! damn thy dissembling Tongue;
Did I not see, with what fierce wishing Eyes
He gazed upon thy Face, whilst yours as wantonly
Returned, and understood the amorous Language?

Flor. Admit it true, that such his Passions were,
As (Heaven’s my witness) I’ve no cause to fear;
Have not I Virtue to resist his Flame,
Without a pointed Steel?

Abd. Your Virtue!—Curse on the weak Defence;
Your Virtue’s equal to his Innocence.
Here, take this Dagger, and if this Night he visit thee,
When he least thinks on’t—send it to his Heart.

Flor. If you suspect me, do not leave me, Sir.

Abd. Oh—I’m dispatch’d away—to leave you free—
About a wonderful Affair—mean time,
I know you will be visited—but as you wish to live,
At my return let me behold him dead.—
Be sure you do’t—’tis for thy Honour’s safety—
I love thee so, that I can take no rest,
Till thou hast kill’d thy Image in his Breast.
—Adieu, my dear Florella.
[Exit_.

Flor. Murder my King! the Man that loves me too—
What Fiend, what Fury such an act wou’d do?
My trembling Hand wou’d not the Weapon bear,
And I should sooner strike it here—than there.
[Pointing to her Breast.
No! though of all I am, this Hand alone
Is what thou canst command, as being thy own;
Yet this has plighted no such cruel Vow;
No Duty binds me to obey thee ‘now.
To save my King’s, my Life I will expose,
No Martyr dies in a more glorious Cause.

[Exit.

SCENE II. The Queen’s Apartments.

Enter the Queen in an undress alone, with a Light.

Qu. Thou grateful Night, to whom all happy Lovers
Make their devout and humble Invocations;
Thou Court of Silence, where the God of Love,
Lays by the awful Terror of a Deity,
And every harmful Dart, and deals around
His kind Desires; whilst thou, blest Friend to Joys,
Draw’st all thy Curtains, made of gloomy Shades,
To veil the Blushes of soft yielding Maids;
Beneath thy Covert grant the Love-sick King,
May find admittance to Florella’s Arms;
And being there, keep back the busy Day;
Maintain thy Empire till my Moor returns;
Where in her Lodgings he shall find his Wife,
Amidst her amorous Dalliance with my Son.—
My watchful Spies are waiting for the Knowledge;
Which when to me imparted, I’ll improve,
Till my Revenge be equal to my Love.
Enter Elvira.
—Elvira, in thy Looks I read Success;
What hast thou learnt?

Elv. Madam, the King is gone as you imagin’d, To fair Florella’s Lodging.

Qu. But art thou sure he gain’d Admittance?

Elv. Yes, Madam; But what Welcome he has found, to me’s unknown; But I believe it must be great, and kind.

Qu. I am of thy Opinion.—
But now, Elvira, for a well-laid Plot,
To ruin this Florella;—though she be innocent,
Yet she must die; so hard a Destiny
My Passion for her Husband does decree:
But ‘tis the way I stop at.—
His Jealousy already I have rais’d;
That’s not enough, his Honour must be touch’d.
This Meeting twixt the King and fair Florella,
Must then be render’d publick;
’.is the Disgrace, not Action, must incense him—
Go you to Don Alonzo’s Lodging strait,
Whilst I prepare my Story for his Ear.—
[Exit Elvira.
Assist me all that’s ill in Woman-kind,
And furnish me with Sighs, and feigned Tears,
That may express a Grief for this Discovery.—
My Son, be like thy Mother, hot and bold;
And like the noble Ravisher of Rome,
Court her with Daggers, when thy Tongue grows faint,
Till thou hast made a Conquest o’er her Virtue.
Enter Alonzo, Elvira.
—Oh, Alonzo, I have strange News to tell thee!

Alon. It must be strange indeed, that makes my Queen Dress her fair Eyes in Sorrow.

Qu. It is a Dress that thou wilt be in love with, When thou shalt hear my Story.— You had a Sister once.

Alon. Had!

Qu. Yes, had,—whilst she was like thy self, all Virtue; Till her bewitching Eyes kindled such Flames, As will undo us all.

Alon. My Sister, Madam! sure it cannot be:— What Eyes? what Flames?—inform me strait.

Qu. Alonzo, thou art honest, just and brave:
And should I tell thee more,—
(Knowing thy Loyalty’s above all Nature)
It would oblige thee to commit an Outrage,
Which baser Spirits will call Cruelty.

Alon. Gods, Madam! do not praise my Virtue thus,
Which is so poor, it scarce affords me patience
To attend the end of what you wou’d deliver—
Come, Madam, say my Sister—is a Whore.
I know ‘tis so you mean; and being so,
Where shall I kneel for Justice?
Since he that shou’d afford it me,
Has made her Criminal.—
Pardon me, Madam, ‘tis the King I mean.

Qu. I grieve to own, all thy prophetick Fears Are true, Alonzo, ‘tis indeed the King.

Alon. Then I’m disarm’d, For Heaven can only punish him.

Qu. But, Alonzo,
Whilst that religious Patience dwells about thee,
All Spain must suffer, nay, Ages that shall ensue
Shall curse thy Name, and Family;
From whom a Race of Bastards shall proceed,
To wear that Crown.

Alon. No, Madam, not for mine,
My Sister’s in my power, her Honour’s mine;
I can command her Life, though not my King’s.
Her Mother is a Saint, and shou’d she now
Look down from Heaven upon a Deed so foul,
I think even there she wou’d invent a Curse,
To thunder on her Head.—
But, Madam, whence was this Intelligence?

Qu. Elvira saw the King enter her Lodgings, With Lover’s haste, and Joy.

Alon. Her Lodgings!—when?

Qu. Now, not an Hour ago, Now, since the Moor departed.

Alon. Damnation on her! can she be thus false?
Come, lead me to the Lodgings of this Strumpet,
And make me see this truth, [To Elvira.
Or I will leave thee dead, for thus abusing me.

Qu. Nay, dear Alonzo, do not go inrag’d,
Stay till your Temper wears a calmer look;
That if, by chance, you shou’d behold the Wantons,
In little harmless Dalliance, such as Lovers
(Aided with Silence, and the shades of Night)
May possibly commit,
You may not do that which you may repent of.

Alon. Gods! should I play the Pander! And with my Patience, aid the amorous Sin— No, I shall scarce have so much Tameness left, To mind me of my Duty to my King. Ye Gods! behold the Sacrifice I make To my lost Honour: behold, and aid my Justice. [Ex. Alon.

Qu. It will concern me too to see this Wonder, For yet I scarce can credit it.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Florella’s Lodgings.

Enter the King, leading in Florella all in fear.

Flor. Ah, Sir, the Gods and you would be more merciful,
If by a Death less cruel than my Fears,
You would preserve my Honour; begin it quickly,
And after that I will retain my Duty,
And at your Feet breathe Thanks in dying Sighs.

King. Where learnt you, Fairest, so much Cruelty
To charge me with the Power of injuring thee?
Not from my Eyes, where Love and Languishment
Too sensibly inform thee of my Heart.

Flor. Call it not Injury, Sir, to free my Soul
From fears which such a Visit must create,
In dead of Night, when nought but frightful Ghosts
Of restless Souls departed walk the Round.

King. That fleeting thing am I, whom all Repose,
All Joys, and every good of Life abandon’d,
That fatal Hour thou gavest thy self away;
And I was doom’d to endless Desperation:
Yet whilst I liv’d, all glorious with my hopes,
Some sacred Treasures in thy Breast I hid,
And near thee still my greedy Soul will hover.

Flor. Ah, rather like a Ravisher you come, With Love and Fierceness in your dangerous Eyes; And both will equally be fatal to me.

King. Oh, do not fear me, as the fair Lucretia
Did the fierce Roman Youth; I mean no Rapes,
Thou canst not think that I wou’d force those Joys,
Which cease to be so, when compell’d, Florella—
No, I would sooner pierce this faithful Heart,
Whose Flame appears too criminal for your Mercy.

Flor. Why do you fright me, Sir? methinks your Looks
All pale, your Eyes thus fixt, and trembling Hands,
The awful Horror of the dark and silent Night,
Strike a cold Terror round my fainting Heart,
That does presage some fatal Accident.

King. ‘Tis in your cruel Eyes the Danger lies—
Wou’d you receive me with that usual Tenderness,
Which did express it self in every Smile,
I should dismiss tin’s Horror from my Face,
And place again its native Calmness there;
And all my Veins shall re-assume their Heat,
And with a new and grateful Ardour beat.

Flor. Sir, all my Soul is taken up with fear,
And you advance your Fate, by staying here—
Fly, fly, this place of Death—if Abdelazer
Shou’d find you here—all the Divinity
About your sacred Person could not guard you.

King. Ah, my Florella, cease thy needless Fear,
And in thy Soul let nothing reign but Love;
Love, that with soft Desires may fill thy Eyes,
And save thy Tongue the pain t’ instruct my Heart,
In the most grateful Knowledge Heaven can give me.

Flor. That Knowledge, Sir, wou’d make us both more wretched,
Since you, I know, wou’d still be wishing on,
And I shou’d grant, till we were both undone.
And, Sir, how little she were worth your care,
Cou’d part with all her honourable Fame,
For an inglorious Life—short and despis’d—

King. Canst thou believe a Flame thy Eyes have kindled,
Can urge me to an infamous pursuit?—
No, my Florella, I adore thy Virtue,
And none profane those Shrines, to whom they offer;
—Say but thou lov’st—and I thus low will bow—
[Kneels.
And sue to thee, to be my Sovereign Queen?
I’ll circle thy bright Forehead with the Crowns
Of Castile, Portugal, and Arragon;
And all those petty Kingdoms, which do bow
Their Tributary Knees to thy Adorer.

Flor. Ah, Sir! have you forgot my sacred Vow? All that I am, is Abdelazer’s now.

King. By Heav’n, it was a sacrilegious Theft; But I the Treasure from his Breast will tear, And reach his Heart, though thou art seated there.

Flor. A Deed like that my Virtue wou’d undo,
And leave a Stain upon your Glories too;
A Sin, that wou’d my Hate, not Passion move;
I owe a Duty, where I cannot love.

King. Thou think’st it then no Sin to kill thy King; For I must die, without thy Love, Florella.

Flor. How tamely, Sir, you with the Serpent play, Whose fatal Poison must your Life betray; And though a King, cannot divine your Fate; Kings only differ from the Gods in that.— See, Sir, with this—I am your Murderer made; [Holds up a Dagger. By those we love, we soonest are betray’d.

King. How! can that fair Hand acquaint it self with Death? —What wilt thou do, Florella?

Flor. Your Destiny divert, And give my Heart those Wounds design’d for yours. —If you advance, I’ll give the deadly Blow.

King. Hold!—I command thee hold thy impious Hand, My Heart dwells there, and if you strike—I die.

Enter Queen, Alonzo, and Elvira.

Qu. Florella! arm’d against the King? [Snatches the Dagger and stabs her: the King rises. Oh Traitress!

King. Hold, hold, inhuman Murdress; What hast thou done, most barbarous of thy Sex! [Takes Flor. in his Arms.

Qu. Destroy’d thy Murdress,—and my too fair Rival. [Aside.

King. My Murdress!—what Devil did inspire thee
With Thoughts so black and sinful? cou’d this fair Saint
Be guilty of a Murder?—No, no, too cruel Mother,
With her Eyes, her charming lovely Eyes,
She might have kill’d, and her too virtuous Cruelty.
—Oh my Florella! Sacred lovely Creature!

Flor. My Death was kind, since it prevented yours,
And by that Hand, which sav’d mine from a Guilt.
[Points to the Queen.
—That Dagger I receiv’d of Abdelazer,
To stab that Heart,—he said, that lov’d me best;
But I design’d to overcome your Passion,
And then to have vanquish’d Abdelazer’s Jealousy:
But finding you too faithful to be happy,
I did resolve to die—and have my wish.
—Farewel—my King—my Soul begins its flight,
—And now—is hovering—in eternal—Night.
[Dies.

King. She’s gone—she’s gone—her sacred Soul is fled To that Divinity, of which it is a part; Too excellent to inhabit Earthly Bodies.

Alon. Oh, Sir, you grieve too much, for one so foul.

King. What profane Breath was that pronounc’d her foul? Thy Mother’s Soul, though turn’d into a Cherubim, Was black to hers—Oh, she was all divine. —Alonzo, was it thou?—her Brother!

Alon. When she was good, I own’d that Title, Sir.

King. Good!—by all the Gods, she was as chaste as Vestals,
As Saints translated to Divine Abodes.
I offer’d her to be my Queen, Alonzo,
To share the growing Glories of my Youth;
But uncorrupted she my Crown contemn’d,
And on her Virtue’s Guard stood thus defended.
[Alon. weeps.
—Oh my Florella! let me here lie fix’d,
[Kneels.
And never rise, till I am cold and pale
As thou, fair Saint, art now—But sure
She cou’d not die;—that noble generous Heart,
That arm’d with Love and Honour, did rebate
All the fierce Sieges of my amorous Flame,
Might sure defend it self against those Wounds
Given by a Woman’s Hand,—or rather ‘twas a Devil’s.
[Rises.
—What dost thou merit for this Treachery?
Thou vilest of thy Sex—
But thou’rt a thing I have miscall’d a Mother,
And therefore will not touch thee—live to suffer
By a more shameful way;—but here she lies,
Whom I, though dead, must still adore as living.

Alon. Sir, pray retire, there’s danger in your stay;
When I reflect upon this Night’s Disorder,
And the Queen’s Art to raise my Jealousy;
And after that my Sister’s being murder’d,
I must believe there is some deeper Plot,
Something design’d against your sacred Person.

King. Alonzo, raise the Court, I’ll find it, [Ex. Alonzo. Tho ‘twere hid within my Mother’s Soul.

Qu. My gentle Son, pardon my kind mistake, I did believe her arm’d against thy Life.

King. Peace, Fury! Not ill boding Raven Shrieks,
Nor midnight Cries of murder’d Ghosts, are more
Ungrateful, than thy faint and dull Excuses.
—Be gone! and trouble not the silent Griefs,
Which will insensibly decay my Life,
Till like a Marble Statue I am fixt,
Dropping continual Tears upon her Tomb.
[Kneels and—weeps at Florella’s Feet.

Abd. [Within]. Guard all the Chamber-Doors—Fire and Confusion
Consume the Spanish Dogs—was I for this
Sent to fetch back a Philip, and a Cardinal,
To have my Wife abus’d?

Enter Abdelazer.

Qu. Patience, dear Abdelazer.

Abd. Patience and I am Foes: where’s my Florella? The King! and in Florella’s Bed-Chamber! Florella dead too!— Rise, thou eternal Author of my Shame; Gay thing—to you I speak, [King rises. And thus throw off Allegiance.

Qu. Oh, stay your Fury, generous Abdelazer.

Abd. Away, fond Woman. [Throws her from him.

King. Villain, to me this Language?

Abd. To thee, young amorous King. How at this dead and silent time of Night, Durst you approach the Lodgings of my Wife?

King. I scorn to answer thee.

Abd. I’ll search it in thy Heart then.

[They fight, Queen and Elv. run out crying Treason.

King. The Devil’s not yet ready for his Soul, And will not claim his due.—Oh, I am wounded. [Falls.

Abd. No doubt on’t, Sir, these are no Wounds of Love.

King. Whate’er they be, you might have spar’d ‘em now,
Since those Florella give me were sufficient:
—And yet a little longer, fixing thus
Thou’dst seen me turn to Earth, without thy aid.
Florella!—Florella!—is thy Soul fled so far
It cannot answer me, and call me on?
And yet like dying Ecchoes in my Ears,
I hear thee cry, my Love—I come—I come, fair Soul.
—Thus at thy Feet—my Heart shall bleeding—lie.
Who since it liv’d for thee—for thee—will die. [Dies.

Abd. So—thou art gone—there was a King but now,
And now a senseless, dull, and breathless nothing.
[A noise of fighting without.
Enter Queen running.

Qu. Oh Heavens! my Son—the King, the King is kill’d!— Yet I must save his Murderer:—Fly, my Moor;

Alonzo, Sir, assisted by some Friends, Has set upon your Guards, And with resistless Fury is making hither.

Abd. Let him come on.

Enter Alonzo and others, led in by Osmin, Zarrack, and Moors.

Oh, are you fast? [Takes away their Swords.

Alon. What mean’st thou, Villain?

Abd. To put your Swords to better uses, Sir, Than to defend the cause of Ravishers.

Alon. Oh Heavens, the King is murder’d!

Abd. Look on that Object, Thy Sister and my Wife, who’s doubly murder’d, First in her spotless Honour, then her Life.

Alon. Heaven is more guilty than the King in this.

Qu. My Lords, be calm; and since your King is murder’d. Think of your own dear Safeties; chuse a new King, That may defend you from the Tyrant’s Rage.

Alon. Who should we chuse? Prince Philip is our King.

Abd. By Heaven, but Philip shall not be my King;
Philip’s a Bastard, and Traytor to his Country:
He braves us with an Army at our Walls,
Threatning the Kingdom with a fatal Ruin.
And who shall lead you forth to Conquest now,
But Abdelazer, whose Sword reap’d Victory,
As oft as ‘twas unsheath’d?—and all for Spain
—How many Laurels has this Head adorn’d?
Witness the many Battles I have won;
In which I’ve emptied all my youthful Veins!—
And all for Spain!—ungrateful of my Favours!
—I do not boast my Birth,
Nor will not urge to you my Kingdom’s Ruin;
But loss of Blood, and numerous Wounds receiv’d—
And still for Spain!—
And can you think, that after all my Toils,
I wou’d be still a Slave?—to Bastard Philip too?
That dangerous Foe, who with the Cardinal,
Threatens with Fire and Sword.—I’ll quench those Flames,
Such an esteem I still preserve for Spain.

Alon. What means this long Harangue? what does it aim at?

Abd. To be Protector of the Crown of Spain, Till we agree about a lawful Successor.

Alon. Oh Devil!

Qu. We are betray’d, and round beset with Horrors;
If we deny him this—the Power being his,
We’re all undone, and Slaves unto his Mercy.—
Besides—Oh, give me leave to blush when I declare,
That Philip is—as he has rendred him.—
But I in love to you, love to my Spain,
Chose rather to proclaim my Infamy,
Than an ambitious Bastard should be crown’d.

Alon. Here’s a fine Plot, What Devil reigns in Woman, when she doats? [Aside.

Rod. My Lords, I see no remedy but he must be Protector.

Alon. Oh, Treachery—have you so soon forgot
The noble Philip, and his glorious Heir,
The murder’d Ferdinand?—
And, Madam, you so soon forgot a Mother’s Name,
That you wou’d give him Power that kill’d your Son?

Abd. The Modesty wherewith I’ll use that Power,
Shall let you see, I have no other Interest
But what’s intirely Spain’s.—Restore their Swords,
And he amongst you all who is dissatisfy’d,
I set him free this minute.

Alon. I take thee at thy word— And instantly to Philip’s Camp will fly. [Exit.

Abd. By all the Gods my Ancestors ador’d,
But that I scorn the envying World shou’d think
I took delight in Blood—I wou’d not part so with you.
—But you, my Lords, who value Spain’s Repose,
Must for it instantly with me take Arms.
Prince Philip, and the Cardinal, now ride
Like Jove in Thunder; we in Storms must meet them.
To Arms! to Arms! and then to Victory,
Resolv’d to conquer, or resolv’d to die.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Abdelazer’s Tent.

Enter Abdelazer, Osmin bearing his Helmet of Feathers, Zarrack with his Sword and Truncheon.

Abd. Come, Osmin, arm me quickly; for the Day Comes on apace, and the fierce Enemy Will take advantages by our delay.

Enter Queen and Elvira.

Qu. Oh, my dear Moor!
The rude, exclaiming, ill-affected Multitude
(Tempestuous as the Sea) run up and down,
Some crying, kill the Bastard—some the Moor;
These for King Philip,—those for Abdelazer.

Abd. Your Fears are idle,—blow ‘em into Air.
I rush’d amongst the thickest of their Crouds,
And with the awful Splendor of my Eyes,
Like the imperious Sun, dispers’d the Clouds.
But I must combat now a fiercer Foe,
The hot-brain’d Philip, and a jealous Cardinal.

Qu. And must you go, before I make you mine?

Abd. That’s my Misfortune—when I return with Victory, And lay my Wreaths of Laurel at your Feet, You shall exchange them for your glorious Fetters.

Qu. How canst thou hope for Victory, when their Numbers So far exceed thy Powers?

Abd. What’s wanting there, we must supply with Conduct. I know you will not stop at any thing That may advance our Interest, and Enjoyment.

Qu. Look back on what I have already done; And after that look forward with Assurance.

Abd. You then (with only Women in your Train)
Must to the Camp, and to the Cardinal’s Tent;—
Tell him, your Love to him hath drawn you thither:
Then undermine his Soul—you know the way on’t.
And sooth him into a Belief, that the best way
To gain your Heart, is to leave Philip’s Interest;
Urge ‘tis the Kingdom’s safety, and your own;
And use your fiercest Threats, to draw him to a Peace with me;
Not that you love me, but for the Kingdom’s good:
Then in a Tent which I will pitch on purpose,
Get him to meet me: He being drawn off,
Thousands of Bigots (who think to cheat the World
Into an Opinion, that fighting for the Cardinal is
A pious Work) will (when he leaves the Camp)
Desert it too.

Qu. I understand you, and more than I have time to be Instructed in, I will perform; and possibly Before you can begin, I’ll end my Conquests.

Abd. ‘Twill be a Victory worthy of your Beauty. —I must to Horse, farewel, my generous Mistress.

Qu. Farewel! and may thy Arms as happy prove, As shall my Art, when it dissembles Love.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. Philip’s Tent.

Enter Philip, Alonzo, and Guards.

Phil. ‘Tis a sad Story thou hast told, Alonzo;
Yet ‘twill not make me shed one single Tear:
They must be all of Blood that I will offer
To my dear Brother’s Ghost—
But, gallant Friend, this Good his Ills have done,
To turn thee over to our juster Interest,
For thou didst love him once.

Alon. Whilst I believ’d him honest, and for my Sister’s sake; But since, his Crimes have made a Convert of me.

Phil. Gods! is it possible the Queen should countenance His horrid Villanies?

Alon. Nay, worse than so,’.is thought she’ll marry him.

Phil. Marry him! then here upon my Knees I vow,
[Kneels.
To shake all Duty from my Soul;
And all that Reverence Children owe a Parent,
Shall henceforth be converted into Hate. [Rises.
—Damnation! marry him! Oh, I cou’d curse my Birth!
This will confirm the World in their Opinion,
That she’s the worst of Women;
That I am basely born too, (as she gives it out)
That Thought alone does a just Rage inspire,
And kindles round my Heart an active Fire.

Alan. A Disobedience, Sir, to such a Parent,
Heaven must forgive the Sin, if this be one:
—Yet do not, Sir, in Words abate that Fire,
Which will assist you a more effectual way.

Phil. Death! I could talk of it an Age;
And, like a Woman, fret my Anger high:
Till like my Rage, I have advanc’d my Courage,
Able to fight the World against my Mother.

Alan. Our Wrongs without a Rage, will make us fight, Wrongs that wou’d make a Coward resolute.

Phil. Come, noble Youth,
Let us join both our several Wrongs in one,
And from them make a solemn Resolution,
Never to part our Interest, till this Moor,
This worse than Devil Moor be sent to Hell.

Alon. I do.

Phil. Hark—hark—the Charge is sounded, let’s to Horse, St. Jaques for the Right of Spain and me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. A Grave.

Drums and Trumpets afar off,—with noise of fighting at a distance: After a little while, enter Philip in a Rage.

Phil. Oh unjust Powers! why d’ye protect this Monster?— And this damn’d Cardinal, that comes not up With the Castilian Troops? curse on his formal Politicks— Enter Alonzo. —Alonzo, where’s the Moor?

Alon. The Moor—a Devil—never did Fiend of Hell,
Compell’d by some Magician’s Charms,
Break thro the Prison of the folded Earth
With more swift Horrour, than this Prince of Fate
Breaks thro our Troops in spite of Opposition.

Phil. Death! ‘tis not his single Arm that works the Wonders, But our Cowardice—Oh, this Dog Cardinal!

Enter Antonio.

Ant. Sound a Retreat, or else the Day is lost.

Phil. I’ll beat that Cur to Death that sounds Retreat.

Enter Sebastian.

Sebast. Sound a Retreat.

Phil. Who is’t that tempts my Sword?—continue the Alarm, Fight on Pell-mell—fight—kill—be damn’d—do any thing But sound Retreat—Oh, this damn’d Coward Cardinal! [Exeunt.

The noise of fighting near; after a little while enter Philip again.

Phil. Not yet, ye Gods! Oh, this eternal Coward!

Enter Alonzo.

Alon. Sir, bring up your Reserves, or all is lost; Ambition plumes the Moor, that makes him act Deeds of such Wonder, that even you wou’d envy them.

Phil. ‘Tis well—I’ll raise my Glories to that dazling height, Shall darken his, or set in endless Night.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Grove.

Enter Card. and Queen; the noise of a Battel continuing afar off all the Scene.

Qu. By all thy Love, by all thy Languishments,
By all those Sighs and Tears paid to my Cruelty,
By all thy Vows, thy passionate Letters sent,
I do conjure thee, go not forth to fight:
Command your Troops not to engage with Philip,
Who aims at nothing but the Kingdom’s ruin.
—Fernando’s kill’d—the Moor has gain’d the Power,
A Power that you nor Philip can withstand;
And is’t not better he were lost than Spain,
Since one must be a Sacrifice?
Besides—if I durst tell it,
There’s something I cou’d whisper to thy Soul,
Wou’d make thee blush at ev’ry single Good
Thou’ast done that insolent Boy;—But ‘tis not now
A time for Stories of so strange a Nature,—
Which when you know, you will conclude with me,
That every Man that arms for Philip’s Cause,
Merits the name of Traitor.—
Be wise in time, and leave his shameful Interest,
An Interest thou wilt curse thy self for taking;
Be wise, and make Alliance with the Moor.

Card. And, Madam, should I lay aside my Wrongs,
Those publick Injuries I have receiv’d,
And make a mean and humble Peace with him?
—No, let Spain be ruin’d by our Civil Swords,
E’er for its safety I forego mine Honour.—

Enter an Officer.

Offi. Advance, Sir, with your Troops, or we are lost.

Card. Give order—

Qu. That they stir not on their Lives;
Is this the Duty that you owe your Country?
Is this your Sanctity—and Love to me?
Is’t thus you treat the Glory I have offer’d
To raise you to my Bed?
To rule a Kingdom, be a Nation’s Safety,
To advance in hostile manner to their Walls;
Walls that confine your Countrymen, and Friends,
And Queen, to whom you’ve vow’d eternal Peace,
Eternal Love? And will you court in Arms?
Such rude Addresses wou’d but ill become you.
No, from this hour renounce all Claims to me,
Or Philip’s Interest; for let me tell you, Cardinal,
This Love, and that Revenge, are inconsistent.

Card. But, Madam—

Qu. No more—disband your Rebel Troops,
And strait with me to Abdelazer’s Tent,
Where all his Claims he shall resign to you,
Both in my self, the Kingdom, and the Crown:
You being departed, thousands more will leave him,
And you’re alone the Prop to his Rebellion.

Enter Sebastian.

Sebast. Advance, advance, my Lord, with all your Force,
Or else the Prince and Victory is lost,
Which now depends upon his single Valour;
Who, like some ancient Hero, or some God,
Thunders amongst the thickest of his Enemies,
Destroying all before him in such numbers,
That Piles of Dead obstruct his passage to the living—
Relieve him strait, my Lord, with our last Cavalry and
Hopes.

Card. I’ll follow instantly.—
[Ex. Sebast.

Qu. Sir, but you shall not, unless it be to Death—
Shall you preserve the only Man I hate,
And hate with so much reason?—let him fall
A Victim to an injur’d Mother’s Honour.
—Come, I will be obey’d—indeed I must—[Fawns on him.

Card. When you’re thus soft, can I retain my Anger?
Oh, look but ever thus—in spite of Injuries—
I shall become as tame and peaceable,
As are your charming Eyes, when dress’d in Love,
Which melting down my Rage, leave me defenceless.
—Ah, Madam, have a generous care of me,
For I have now resign’d my Power to you.

[Shouts within.

Qu. What Shouts are these?

Enter Sebastian.

Sebast. My Lord, the Enemy is giving ground, And Philip’s Arm alone sustains the day: Advance, Sir, and compleat the Victory. [Exit.

Qu. Give order strait, that a Retreat be sounded; And whilst they do so, by me conducted, We’ll instantly to Abdelazer’s Tent— Haste—haste, my Lord, whilst I attend you here. [Ex. severally. [Cardinal going out, is met by Philip.

Phil. Oh, damn your lazy Order, where have you been, Sir? —But ‘tis no time for Questions, Move forward with your Reserves.

Card. I will not, Sir.

Phil. How, will not!

Card. Now to advance would be impolitick; Already by your desperate Attempts, You’ve lost the best part of our Hopes.

Phil. Death! you lye.

Card. Lye, Sir!

Phil. Yes, lye, Sir,—therefore come on,
Follow the desperate Reer-Guard, which is mine,
And where I’ll die, or conquer—follow my Sword
The bloody way it leads, or else, by Heaven,
I’ll give the Moor the Victory in spite,
And turn my Force on thee—
Plague of your Cowardice—Come, follow me.

[Ex. Card.

SCENE V. The Grove.

As Philip is going off, he is overtook by Alonzo, Antonio, Sebastian, and other Officers: At the other side some Moors, and other of Abdelazer’s Party, enter and fall on Philip and the rest—the Moors are beaten off—one left dead on the Stage.—

Enter Abdelazer, with Roderigo and some others.

Abd. Oh, for more Work—more Souls to send to Hell!
—Ha, ha, ha, here’s one going thither,—Sirrah—Slave
Moor—who kill’d thee?—how he grins—this Breast,
Had it been temper’d and made proof like mine,
It never wou’d have been a Mark for Fools.

Abd. going out: Enter Philip, Alonzo, Sebastian, Antonio,
and Officers, as passing over the Stage.

Phil. I’ll wear my Sword to th’ Hilt, but I will find The Subject of my Vengeance.— Moor, ‘tis for thee I seek, where art thou, Slave?—

Abd. Here, Philip. [Abd. turns.

Phil. Fate and Revenge, I thank thee.—

Abd. Why—thou art brave, whoe’er begot thee.

Phil. Villain, a King begot me.

Abd. I know not that, But I’ll be sworn thy Mother was a Queen, And I will kill thee handsomly for her sake.

[Offers to fight, their Parties hinder them.

Alon. Hold—hold, my Prince.

Osm. Great Sir, what mean you? [To Abd. The Victory being yours, to give your Life away On one so mad and desperate. [Their Parties draw.

Phil. Alonzo, hold, We two will be the Fate of this great Day.

Abd. And I’ll forego all I’ve already won, And claim no Conquest; the whole heaps of Bodies, Which this Right-hand has slain, declare me Victor.

Phil. No matter who’s the Victor; I have thee in my view,
And will not leave thee,
Till thou hast crown’d those Heaps, and made ‘em all
The glorious Trophies of my Victory—Come on, Sir.

Alon. You shall not fight thus single; If you begin, by Heaven, we’ll all fall on.

Phil. Dost thou suspect my Power?
Oh, I am arm’d with more than compleat Steel,
The Justice of my Quarrel; when I look
Upon my Father’s Wrongs, my Brother’s Wounds,
My Mother’s Infamy, Spain’s Misery,
I am all Fire; and yet I am too cold
To let out Blood enough for my Revenge:
—Therefore stir not a Sword on my side.

Abd. Nor on mine.

They fight; both their Parties engage on either side; the Scene draws off, and discovers both the Armies, which all fall on and make the main Battel: Philip prevails, the Moors give ground: Then the Scene closes to the the Grove. Enter some Moors flying in disorder.

SCENE VI. Changes to a Tent.

Enter Abdelazer, Roderigo, Osmin, Zarrack, and some others of his Party.

Rod. Oh, fly, my Lord, fly, for the Day is lost.

Abd. There are three hundred and odd Days i’th Year, And cannot we lose one? dismiss thy Fears, They’ll make a Coward of thee.

Osm. Sir, all the noble Spaniards have forsook you; Your Soldiers faint, are round beset with Enemies, Nor can you shun your Fate, but by your Flight.

Abd. I can—and must—in spite of Fate:
The Wheel of War shall turn about again,
And dash the Current of his Victories.—
This is the Tent I’ve pitched, at distance from the Armies,
To meet the Queen and Cardinal;
Charm’d with the Magick of Dissimulation,
I know by this h’as furl’d his Ensigns up,
And is become a tame and coward Ass.
[A Retreat is sounded.
—Hark—hark, ‘tis done: oh, my inchanting Engine!
—Dost thou not hear Retreat sounded?

Rod. Sure ‘tis impossible.

Abd. She has prevail’d—a Woman’s Tongue and Eyes Are Forces stronger than Artilleries. Enter Queen, Cardinal, Women, and Soldiers. —We are betray’d—

Qu. What means this Jealousy? lay by your Weapons. And embrace—the sight of these beget Suspicion: —Abdelazer, by my Birth he comes in peace; Lord Cardinal, on my Honour so comes he.

Abd. Let him withdraw his Troops then.

Qu. They’re Guards for all our Safeties: Give me your Hand, Prince Cardinal—thine, Abdelazer— [She brings them together, they embrace. This blest Accord I do behold with Joy.

Card. Abdelazer, I at the Queen’s Command have met you here, To know what ‘tis you will propose to us.

Abd. Peace and eternal Friendship ‘twixt us two.
How much against my Will I took up Arms,
Be witness, Heav’n: nor was it in revenge to you,
But to let out th’ infected Blood of Philip,
Whose sole aim
Is to be King—which Spain will never suffer;
Spain gave me Education, though not Birth,
Which has intitled it my native Home,
To which such Reverence and Esteem I bear,
I will preserve it from the Tyrant’s Rage.
The People who once lov’d him, now abhor him,
And ‘tis your Power alone that buoys him up:
And when you’ve lifted him into a Throne,
’.is time to shake you off.

Card. Whilst I behold him as my native Prince,
My Honour and Religion bids me serve him;
Yet not when I’m convinc’d that whilst I do so,
I injure Spain.

Abd. If he were so, the Powers above forbid
We should not serve, adore, and fight for him;
But Philip is a Bastard:—nay, ‘twill surprize ye,
But that ‘tis Truth, the Queen will satisfy you.

Qu. With one bold Word he has undone my Honour. [Weeps. Too bluntly, Abdelazer, you repeat That which by slow Degrees you shou’d have utter’d.

Abd. Pardon my Roughness, Madam, I meant well.

Card. Philip a Bastard! If by such Arts you wou’d divide me from him, I shall suspect you wou’d betray us both.

Qu. Sir, he informs you Truth; and I blush less To own him so, than that he is a Traitor.

Card. Philip a Bastard! oh, it cannot be— Madam, take heed you do not for Revenge, Barter your dearer Honour, and lose both.

Qu. I know what’s due to Honour, and Revenge,
But better what I owe to Spain, and you—
You are a Prince o’th’ Blood, and may put off
The Cardinal when you please, and be a Monarch.

Card. Though my Ambition’s equal to my Passion, Neither shall make me act against those Principles My Honour ever taught me to obey. —And, Madam— ’.is less a Sin, not to believe you her, Than ‘tis to doubt your Virtue.

Qu. I wish it were untold, if it must forfeit The least of your Esteem—but that ‘tis Truth, Be witness, Heav’n, my Shame, my Sighs, and Tears. [Weeps.

Card. Why, Madam, was’t so long conceal’d from me?

Qu. The Circumstances I shall at leisure tell you:
And for the present,
Let it suffice, he cannot rule in Spain,
Nor can you side with him, without being made
As much incapable to reign as he.

Card. Though Love and Honour I have always made
The Business of my Life;
My Soul retains too so much of Ambition,
As puts me still in mind of what I am,
A Prince, and Heir to Spain:
Nor shall my blinded Zeal to Loyalty,
Make me that glorious Interest resign,
Since Philip’s Claims are not so great as mine.
—Madam, tho I’m convinc’d I’ve done amiss
In taking Arms for Philip,
Yet ‘twill be difficult to disengage my self.

Abd. Most easily—
Proclaim it in the head of all your Troops,
The Justice of your Cause for leaving him;
And tell ‘em, ‘tis a Work of Piety
To follow your Example.
The giddy Rout are guided by Religion,
More than by Justice, Reason, or Allegiance.
—The Crown which I as a good Husband keep,
I will lay down upon the empty Throne;
Marry you the Queen, and fill it—and for me,
I’ll ever pay you Duty as a Subject.
[Bows low.

Card. On these Conditions all I am is yours; Philip we cannot fear, all he can do Is to retire for refuge into Portugal.

Abd. That wou’d be dangerous— Is there no Arts to get him in our Power?

Card. Perhaps by Policy, and seeming Friendship,
For we have reason yet to fear his Force;
And since I’m satisfy’d he’s not my lawful Prince,
I cannot think it an Impiety
To sacrifice him to the Peace of Spain,
And every Spirit that loves Liberty:
First we’ll our Forces join, and make ‘em yours,
Then give me your Authority to arrest him;
If so we can surprize him, we’ll spare the hazard
Of a second Battel.

Abd. My Lord, retire into my inner Tent, And all things shall be instantly perform’d.

[Exeunt all.

SCENE VII. The Grove.

Enter some of Philip’s Party running over the Stage, pursued by Philip, Alonzo, Sebastian, Antonio, and some few Officers more.

Alon. Do not pursue ‘em, Sir, such coward Slaves Deserve not Death from that illustriate Hand.

Phil. Eternal Plagues consume ‘em in their flight;
Oh, this damn’d coward Cardinal has betray’d us!
When all our Swords were nobly dy’d in Blood,
When with red Sweat that trickled from our Wounds
We’ad dearly earn’d the long disputed Victory,
Then to lose all, then to sound base Retreat,
It swells my Anger up to perfect Madness.

Alon. Indeed ‘twas wondrous strange.

Sebast. I’m glad, Sir—

Phil. Art glad of it? art glad we are abandon’d? That I, and thou have lost the hopeful’st Day—

Sebast. Great Sir, I’m glad that you came off alive.

Phil. Thou hast a lean Face—and a carrion Heart—
A plague upon the Moor, and thee—Oh, Alonzo,
To run away—follow’d by all the Army!
Oh, I cou’d tear my Hair, and curse my Soul to Air!
—Cardinal—thou Traitor, Judas, that would’st sell
Thy God again, as thou hast done thy Prince.
—But come—we’re yet a few,
And we will fight till there be left but one—
If I prove him, I’ll die a glorious death.
Ant. Yes, but the Cardinal has took pious Care
It shall be in our Beds.

Sebast. We are as bad as one already, Sir; for all our Fellows are crawl’d home, some with ne’er a Leg, others with ne’er a Arm, some with their Brains beat out, and glad they escaped so.

Phil. But, my dear Countrymen, you’ll stick to me.

1 Sold. Ay, wou’d I were well off— [Aside.

Phil. Speak, stout Sceva, wilt thou not?

1 Sold. Sceva, Sir, who’s that?

Phil. A gallant Roman, that fought by Caesar’s side, Till all his Body cover’d o’er with Arrows, Shew’d like a monstrous Porcupine.

1 Sold. And did he die, Sir?

Phil. He wou’d not but have dy’d for Caesar’s Empire.

1 Sold. Hah—why, Sir, I’m none of Sceva, but honest Diego, yet would as willingly die as he, but that I have a Wife and Children; and if I die they beg.

Phil. For every drop of Blood which thou shalt lose, I’ll give thy Wife—a Diadem.

Sold. Stark mad, as I am valiant!

Enter Card. Officers and Soldiers: Philip offers to run on him, is held by Alonzo.

Phil. Oh Heav’n! is not that the Cardinal? Traitor, how dar’st thou tempt my Rage, and Justice?

Card. Your Pardon, Sir, I come in humble Love To offer happy Peace.

Phil. Was that thy aim when base Retreat was sounded?
Oh, thou false Cardinal—let me go, Alonzo—
Death! offer happy Peace! no, offer War,
Bring Fire and Sword—Hell and Damnation-Peace!
Oh, damn your musty Peace—No, will you fight and cry,
Down with the Moor! and then I’ll die in peace.
I have a Heart, two Arms, a Soul, a Head,
I’ll hazard these—I can but hazard all—
Come—I will kneel to thee—and be thy Slave—
[Kneels.
I’ll let thee tread on me, do any thing,
So this damn’d Moor may fall.

Card. Yes, Sir, he shall—

Phil. Gods! shall he—thy noble Hand upon’t, And for this Promise, take my grateful Heart. [Embraces him. —Shall Abdelazer fall?

Card. Yes, upon thee— Like the tall Ruins of a falling Tower, To crush thee into Dust— [As they embrace, the Guards seize him and the rest. Traitor and Bastard, I arrest thee of High-Treason.

Phil. Hah!—Traitor!—and Bastard—and from thee! [They hold Philip’s Hands.

Card. Guards, to your Hands the Prisoner is committed. There’s your Warrant—Alonzo, you are free. [Ex. Card.

Phil. Prithee lend me one Hand—to wipe my Eyes,
And see who ‘tis dares authorize this Warrant:
—The Devil and his Dam!—the Moor and Queen!
Their Warrant!—Gods! Alonzo, must we obey it?
Villains, you cannot be my Jailors; there’s no Prison,
No Dungeon deep enough; no Gate so strong,
To keep a Man confin’d—so mad with Wrong.
—Oh, dost thou weep, Alonzo?

Alon. I wou’d fain shed a Tear,
But from my Tears so many Show’rs are gone,
They are too poor to pay your Sorrow’s Tribute;
There is no Remedy, we must to Prison.

Phil. Yes, and from thence to Death—
I thought I should have had a Tomb hung round
With tatter’d Ensigns, broken Spears and Javelins;
And that my Body, with a thousand Wounds,
Shou’d have been borne on some triumphant Chariot,
With solemn Mourning, Drums, and Trumpets sounding;
Whilst all the wondring World with Grief and Envy,
Had wish’d my glorious Destiny their own:
But now, Alonzo—like a Beast I fall,
And hardly Pity waits my Funeral.

[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I. _A Presence-Chamber, with a Throne and Canopy.

Enter_ Abdelazer, Cardinal, Alonzo, Ordonio, Roderigo, and other Lords, one bearing the Crown, which is laid on the Table on a Cushion; the Queen, Leonora, and Ladies. They all seat themselves, leaving the Throne and Chair of State empty. Abdelazer rises and bows, Roderigo kneeling, presents him with the Crown.

Abd. Grandees of Spain, if in this royal Presence
There breathes a Man, who having laid his hold
So fast on such a Jewel, and dares wear it,
In the Contempt of Envy, as I dare;
Yet uncompell’d (as freely as the Gods
Bestow their Blessings) wou’d give such Wealth away;
Let such a Man stand forth—are ye all fix’d?
No wonder, since a King’s a Deity.
And who’d not be a God?
This glorious Prospect, when I first saw the Light,
Met with my Infant Hopes; nor have those Fetters
(Which e’er they grew towards Men, Spain taught me how to wear)
Made me forget what’s due to that illustrious Birth;
—Yet thus—I cast aside the Rays of Majesty—
[Kneels, and lays the Crown on the Table.
And on my Knee do humbly offer up
This splendid powerful thing, and ease your Fears
Of Usurpation and of Tyranny.

Alon. What new Device is this? [Aside.

Card. This is an Action generous and just— Let us proceed to new Election.

Abd. Stay, Peers of Spain,
If young Prince Philip be King Philip’s Son,
Then is he Heir to Philip, and his Crown;
But if a Bastard, then he is a Rebel,
And as a Traitor to the Crown shou’d bleed:
That dangerous popular Spirit must be laid,
Or Spain must languish under civil Swords;
And Portugal taking advantage of those Disorders,
(Assisted by the Male-contents within,
If Philip live) will bring Confusion home.
—Our Remedy for this is first to prove,
And then proclaim him Bastard.

Alon. That Project wou’d be worth your Politicks [Aside. —How shou’d we prove him Bastard?

Abd. Her Majesty being lately urg’d by Conscience,
And much above her Honour prizing Spain,
Declar’d this Secret, but has not nam’d the Man;
If he be noble and a Spaniard born,
He shall repair her Fame by marrying her.

Card. No; Spaniard, or Moor, the daring Slave shall die.

Qu. Would I were cover’d with a Veil of Night, [Weeps. That I might hide the Blushes on my Cheeks! But when your Safety comes into Dispute, My Honour, nor my Life must come in competition. —I’ll therefore hide my Eyes, and blushing own, That Philip’s Father is i’th’ Presence now.

Alon. I’th’ Presence! name him.

Qu. The Cardinal— [All rise in Amazement.

Card. How’s this, Madam!

Abd. How! the Cardinal!

Card. I Philip’s Father, Madam!

Qu. Dull Lover—is not all this done for thee! Dost thou not see a Kingdom and my self, By this Confession, thrown into thy Arms?

Card. On Terms so infamous I must despise it.

Qu. Have I thrown by all Sense of Modesty, To render you the Master of my Bed, To be refus’d—was there any other way?—

Card. I cannot yield; this Cruelty transcends All you have ever done me—Heavens! what a Contest Of Love and Honour swells my rising Heart!

Qu. By all my Love, if you refuse me now, Now when I have remov’d all Difficulties, I’ll be reveng’d a thousand killing ways.

Card. Madam, I cannot own so false a thing, My Conscience and Religion will not suffer me.

Qu. Away with all this Canting; Conscience, and Religion! No, take advice from nothing but from Love.

Card. ‘Tis certain I’m bewitch’d—she has a Spell Hid in those charming Lips.

Alon. Prince Cardinal, what say you to this?

Card. I cannot bring it forth—

Qu. Do’t, or thou’rt lost for ever.

Card. Death! What’s a Woman’s Power! And yet I can resist it.

Qu. And dare you disobey me?

Card. Is’t not enough I’ve given you up my Power,
Nay, and resign’d my Life into your Hands,
But you wou’d damn me too—I will not yield—
Oh, now I find a very Hell within me;
How am I misguided by my Passion!

Alon. Sir, we attend your Answer.

Qu. ‘Tis now near twenty Years, when newly married,
(And ‘tis the Custom here to marry young,)
King Philip made a War in Barbary,
Won Tunis, conquer’d Fez, and hand to hand
Slew great Abdela, King of Fez, and Father
To this Barbarian Prince.

Abd. I was but young, and yet I well remember My Father’s Wound—poor Barbary—but no more.

Qu. In absence of my King I liv’d retir’d,
Shut up in my Apartment with my Women,
Suffering no Visits, but the Cardinal’s,
To whom the King had left me as his Charge;
But he, unworthy of that Trust repos’d,
Soon turned his Business into Love.

Card. Heavens! how will this Story end? [Aside.

Qu. A Tale, alas! unpleasant to my Ear,
And for the which I banish’d him my Presence,
But oh, the power of Gold! he bribes my Women,
That they should tell me (as a Secret too)
The King (whose Wars were finish’d) would return
Without acquainting any with the time;
He being as jealous, as I was fair and young,
Meant to surprize me in the dead of Night:
This pass’d upon my Youth, which ne’er knew Art.

Card. Gods! is there any Hell but Woman’s Falshood! [Aside.

Qu. The following Night I hasted to my Bed,
To wait my expected Bliss—nor was it long
Before his gentle Steps approach’d my Ears.
Undress’d he came, and with a vigorous haste
Flew to my yielding Arms: I call’d him King,
My dear lov’d Lord; and in return he breath’d
Into my Bosom, in soft gentle Whispers,
My Queen! my Angel! my lov’d Isabella!
And at that word—I need not tell the rest.

Alon. What’s all this, Madam, to the Cardinal?

Qu. Ah, Sir, the Night too short for his Caresses, Made room for Day, Day that betray’d my Shame; For in my guilty Arms I found the Cardinal.

Alon. Madam, why did not you complain of this?

Qu, Alas, I was but young, and full of Fears;
Bashful, and doubtful of a just Belief,
Knowing King Philip’s rash and jealous Temper;
But from your Justice I expect Revenge.

Rod. His Crime, my Lords, is Death, by all our Laws.

Card. Have you betray’d me by my too much Faith?
Oh shameless Creature, am I disarm’d for this?
Had I but so much Ease to be inrag’d,
Sure I shou’d kill thee for this Treachery:
But I’m all Shame, and Grief—By all that’s holy,
My Lords, I never did commit this Crime.

Abd. ‘Tis but in vain, Prince Cardinal, to deny it.

Qu. Do not believe him, Lords;— Revenge—let Sentence pass upon the Traitor.

Card. I own that Name with Horror, which you drew me to,
When I betray’d the best of Men, and Princes;
And ‘tis but just you fit me for Despairs,
That may instruct me how to follow him in Death:
Yet as I’m Prince o’th’ Blood, and Cardinal too,
You cannot be my Judges.

Abd. You shall be try’d, Sir, as becomes your Quality. Osmin, we commit the Cardinal to your Charge.

Card. Heaven! should I live to that! No, I have within me a private Shame, That shall secure me from the publick one.

Alon. A pretty turn of State!—we shall all follow, Sir.

Card. The Powers above are just: Thus I my Prince a Sacrifice first made, And now my self am on the Altar laid. [Ex. Card, guarded.

Abd. Madam, retire, you’ve acted so divinely,
You’ve fill’d my Soul with new admiring Passion:
I’ll wait on you in your Apartment instantly,
And at your Feet pay all my Thanks, and Love.

Qu. Make haste, my dearest Moor, whilst I retire, And fit my Soul to meet thy kind Desire.

[Ex. Queen and her Train; Leon, advancing to follow, is staid by Abd.

Abd. Stay, beauteous Maid, stay, and receive that Crown, [Leads her back. Which as your due, Heav’n and all Spain present you with.

Alon. But granting Philip is—that thing you call him,
If we must grant him so, who then shall reign?
Not that we do not know who ought to reign,
But ask who ‘tis you will permit to do so. [To Abd.

Abd. Who but bright Leonora! the Royal Off-spring
Of noble Philip, whose Innocence and Beauty,
Without th’ advantage of her glorious Birth,
Merits all Adoration.

All. With Joy we do salute her Queen.

Abd. Live Leonora! beauteous Queen of Spain!
[Shout.

Alon. From Abdelazer this! it cannot be, At least not real. [Aside.

Abd. My Lords,
Be it now your Care magnificently to provide
Both for the Coronation, and the Marriage
Of the fair Queen;
Let nothing be omitted that may shew,
How we can pay, where we so vastly owe.
[Bows.

Alon. I am much bound to Spain, and you, my Lords, For this great Condescenion.

Leo. My Lords, I thank ye all, And most the gallant Moor—I am not well— [Turns to Alon. Something surrounds my Heart so full of Death, I must retire to give my Sorrow Breath.

[Ex. Leo. followed by all but Abd. and Rod. who looks on Abd.

Rod. Sir,—what have you done?

Abd. What every Man that loves like me shou’d do;
Undone my self for ever, to beget
One Moment’s thought in her, that I adore her;
That she may know, none ever lov’d like me,
I’ve thrown away the Diadem of Spain—
’.is gone! and there’s no more to set but this—
(My Heart) at all, and at this one last Cast,
Sweep up my former Losses, or be undone.

Rod. You court at a vast Rate, Sir.

Abd. Oh, she’s a Goddess! a Creature made by Heaven To make my prosperous Toils all sweet and charming! She must be Queen, I and the Gods decree it.

Rod. Sir, is she not designed Alonzo’s Bride?

Abd. Yes, so her self and he have ill agreed; But Heav’n and I am of another Mind, And must be first obey’d.

Rod. Alonzo will not yield his Interest easily.

Abd. Wou’d that were all my stop to Happiness; But, Roderigo, this fond amorous Queen Sits heavy on my Heart.

Rod. She’s but a Woman, nor has more Lives than one.

Abd. True, Roderigo, and thou hast dealt in Murders, And knowest the safest way to—

Rod. How, Sir!—

Abd. Thou dar’st not sure pretend to any Virtue;
Had Hell inspir’d thee with less Excellency
Than Arts of killing Kings, thou’dst ne’er been rais’d
To that exalted Height, t’ have known my Secrets.

Rod. But, Sir—

Abd. Slave, look back upon the Wretchedness I took thee from;
What Merits had thou to deserve my Bounty,
But Vice, brave prosperous Vice?
Thou’rt neither wise, nor valiant.

Rod. I own my self that Creature rais’d by you, And live but to repay you, name the way.

Abd. My business is—to have the Queen remov’d;
She does expect my coming this very Hour;
And when she does so, ‘tis her Custom to be retir’d,
Dismissing all attendance, but Elvira.

Rod. The rest I need not be instructed in. [Ex. Rod.

Enter Osmin.

Osm. The Cardinal, Sir, is close confin’d with Philip.

Abd. ‘Tis well.

Osm. And do you think it fit, Sir, they shou’d live?

Abd. No, this day they both must die, some sort of Death,
That may be thought was given them by themselves:
I’m sure I give them cause—Osmin, view well this Ring;
Whoever brings this Token to your Hands,
Without considering Sex, or Quality,
Let ‘em be kill’d.

Osm. Your Will shall be obey’d in every thing.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE II. A fine Chamber. A Table and Chair.

Enter Queen and Elvira.

Qu. Elvira, hast thou drest my Lodgings up,
Fit to receive my Moor?
Are they all gay, as Altars, when some Monarch
Is there to offer up rich Sacrifices?
Hast thou strew’d all the Floor his Feet must press,
With the soft new-born Beauties of the Spring?

Elv. Madam, I’ve done as you commanded me.

Qu. Let all the Chambers too be fill’d with Lights;
There’s a Solemnity methinks in Night,
That does insinuate Love into the Soul,
And make the bashful Lover more assur’d.

Elv. Madam, You speak as if this were your first Enjoyment.

Qu. My first! Oh Elvira, his Power, like his Charms,
His Wit, or Bravery, every hour renews;
Love gathers Sweets like Flow’rs, which grow more fragrant,
The nearer they approach Maturity.
[Knock.
—Hark! ‘tis my Moor,—give him admittance strait,
The Thought comes o’er me like a gentle Gale,
Raising my Blood into a thousand Curls.

Elv. Madam, it is a Priest—

Qu. A Priest! Oh, send him quickly hence; I wou’d not have so cold and dull an Object, Meet with my nobler Sense, ‘tis mortifying.

Elv. Perhaps ‘tis some Petition from the Cardinal.

Qu. Why, what have I to do with Priest or Cardinal? Let him not enter—

[Elv. goes out, and returns with Roderigo drest like a Fryar.

Elv. From Abdelazer, Madam.

Qu. H’as named a Word will make all Places free.

Rod. Madam, be pleas’d to send your Woman hence, I’ve something to deliver from the Moor, Which you alone must be acquainted with.

Qu. Well, your Formality shall be allowed—retire— [To Elv. Exit Elv. What have you to deliver to me now?

Rod. This—

[Shews a Dagger, and takes her roughly by the Hands.

Qu. Hah!—

Rod. You must not call for help, unless to Heaven.

Qu. What daring thing art thou?

Rod. One that has now no time to answer thee.

[Stabs her, she struggles, her Arm bleeds.

Qu. Oh, hold thy killing Hand! I am thy Queen.

Rod. Thou may’st be Devil too, for ought I know; I’ll try thy Substance thus— [Stabs again.

Qu. Oh, Abdelazer!— Thou hast well reveng’d me—on my Sins of Love;— [He seats her in the Chair. But shall I die thus tamely unrcveng’d? —Help—murder—help— [He offers to stab again.

Enter Elvira, and other Women.

Elv. Oh Heavens! the Queen is murder’d—help the Queen!

[Rod. offers to stab Elv.

Enter Abdelazer.

Abd. Hah! the Queen! what sacrilegious Hand,
Or Heart so brutal—
Durst thus profane the Shrine ador’d by me?
Guard well the Passages.—

Qu. Thou art that sacrilegious—brutal thing!— And false as are the Deities thou worship’st.

Abd. Gods! let me not understand that killing Language?
—Inform me quickly, how you came thus wounded,
Lest looking on that sacred Stream of Blood,
I die e’er I’ve reveng’d you on your Murderer.

Qu. Haste then, and kill thy self; thou art my Murderer. Nor had his Hand, if not by thee instructed, Aim’d at a Sin so dangerous—

Abd. Surely she’ll live—[Aside.]—This!—
Can Mischief dwell beneath this reverend Shape?
Confess who taught thee so much Cruelty.
Confess, or I will kill thee.

Rod. The Cardinal.

Qu. The Cardinal!

Abd. Oh impious Traitor! How came I mention’d then?

Rod. To get Admittance.

Abd. But why do I delay thy Punishment?
Die,—and be damn’d together. [Aside.]
[Stabs him.
But oh, my Queen!—Elvira, call for help.
Have I remov’d all that oppos’d our Flame,
[Kneels.
To have it thus blown out, thus in a Minute?
When I, all full of youthful Fire, all Love,
Had rais’d my Soul with Hopes of near Delights,
To meet thee cold, and pale; to find those Eyes,
Those charming Eyes thus dying—Oh ye Powers!
Take all the Prospect of my future Joys,
And turn it to Despair, since thou art gone.

Qu. Cease,—cease—your kind Complaints—my struggling Soul,
’.wixt Death—and Love—holds an uneasy Contest;
This will not let it stay—nor that depart;—
And whilst I hear thy Voice—thus breathing Love,
It hovers still—about—the grateful—Sound.
My Eyes—have took—an everlasting Leave—
Of all that blest their Sight; and now a gloomy Darkness
Benights the wishing Sense,—that vainly strives—
To take another View;—but ‘tis too late,—
And Life—and Love—must yield—to Death—and—
Fate.
[Dies.

Abd. Farewell, my greatest Plague, [He rises with Joy. Thou wert a most impolitick loving thing; And having done my Bus’ness which thou wert born for, ’.was time thou shouldst retire, And leave me free to love, and reign alone.

Enter Leonora, Alonzo, Ordonio, and other Men and Women.

Come all the World, and pay your Sorrows here,
Since all the World has Interest in this Loss.

Alon. The Moor in Tears! nay, then the Sin was his.

Leon. The Queen my Mother dead! How many Sorrows will my Heart let in, E’er it will break in pieces. [Weeps over her.

Alon. I know the Source of all this Villany, And need not ask you how the Queen came murder’d.

Elv. My Lord, that Fryer, from the Cardinal, did it.

Alon. The Cardinal!
’.is possible,—for the Injuries she did him
Cou’d be repaid with nothing less than Death. [Aside.
My Fair, your Griefs have been so just of late,
I dare not beg that you would weep no more;
Though every Tear those lovely Eyes let fall,
Give me a killing Wound—Remove the Body.

[Guards remove the Body. Ex. all but Alon. and Leon.

Such Objects suit not Souls so soft as thine.

Leon. With Horrors I am grown of late familiar;
I saw my Father die, and liv’d the while;
I saw my beauteous Friend, and thy lov’d Sister,
Florella, whilst her Breast was bleeding fresh;
Nay, and my Brother’s too, all full of Wounds,
The best and kindest Brother that ever Maid was blest with;
Poor Philip bound, and led like Victims for a Sacrifice;
All this I saw and liv’d—
And canst thou hope for Pity from that Heart,
Whose harden’d Sense is Proof ‘gainst all these Miseries?
This Moor, Alonzo, is a subtle Villain,
Yet of such Power we scarce dare think him such.

Alon. ‘Tis true, my charming Fair, he is that Villain, As ill and powerful too; yet he has a Heart That may be reach’d with this—but ‘tis not time, [Points to his Sword. We must dissemble yet, which is an Art Too foul for Souls so innocent as thine. Enter Abdelazer. The Moor! Hell! will he not allow us sorrowing time?

Abd. Madam, I come to pay my humblest Duty, And know what Service you command your Slave.

Leon. Alas, I’ve no Commands; or if I had, I am too wretched now to be obey’d.

Abd. Can one so fair, and great, ask any thing Of Men, or Heaven, they wou’d not grant with Joy?

Leon. Hea’vns Will I’m not permitted to dispute, And may implore in vain; but ‘tis in you To grant me what may yet preserve my Life.

Abd. In me! in me! the humblest of your Creatures!
By yon bright Sun, or your more splendid Eyes,
I wou’d divest my self of every Hope,
To gratify one single Wish of yours.
—Name but the way.

Leon. I am so unhappy, that the only thing I have to ask, is what you must deny; —The Liberty of Philip—

Abd. How! Philip’s Liberty—and must I grant it?
I (in whose Hands Fortune had put the Crown)
Had I not lov’d the Good and Peace of Spain,
Might have dispos’d it to my own Advantage;
And shall that Peace,
Which I’ve preferr’d above my proper Glories,
Be lost again in him, in him a Bastard?

Alon. That he’s a Bastard, is not, Sir, believ’d;
And she that cou’d love you, might after that
Do any other Sin, and ‘twas the least
Of all the Number to declare him Bastard.

Abd. How, Sir! that you’d love me! what is there here, Or in my Soul, or Person, may not be belov’d?

Alon. I spoke without Reflection on your Person,
But of dishonest Love, which was too plain,
From whence came all the Ills we have endur’d;
And now being warm in Mischiefs,
Thou dost pursue the Game, till all be thine.

Abd. Mine!

Alon. Yes, thine—
The little humble Mask which you put on
Upon the Face of Falshood, and Ambition,
Is easily seen thro; you gave a Crown,
But you’ll command the Kingly Power still,
Arm and disband, destroy or save at Pleasure.

Abd. Vain Boy, (whose highest Fame,
Is that thou art the great Alvaro’s Son)
Where learnt you so much daring, to upbraid
My generous Power thus falsly—do you know me?

Alon. Yes, Prince, and ‘tis that Knowledge makes me dare;
I know thy Fame in Arms; I know in Battels
Thou hast perform’d Deeds much above thy Years:
My Infant Courage too
(By the same Master taught) grew up to thine,
When thou in Rage out-didst me, not in Bravery.
—I know thou’st greater Power too—thank thy Treachery!

Abd. Dost thou not fear that Power?

Alon. By Heaven, not I, Whilst I can this—command. [Lays his Hand on his Sword.

Abd. I too command a Sword.
[Abd. lays his Hand on his, and comes close up to him.
But not to draw on thee, Alonzo;
Since I can prove thy Accusation false
By ways more grateful—take this Ring, Alonzo;
The sight of it will break down Prison-Gates,
And set all free, as was the first-born Man.

Alon. What means this turn?

Abd. To enlarge Philip; but on such Conditions, As you think fit to make for my Security: And as thou’rt brave, deal with me as I merit.

Alon. Art thou in earnest?

Abd. I am, by all that’s sacred.

Leon. Oh, let me fall before you, and ne’er rise,
Till I have made you know what Gratitude
Is fit for such a Bounty!—
Haste, my Alonzo—haste—and treat with Philip;
Nor do I wish his Freedom, but on such Terms
As may be advantageous to the Moor.

Alon. Nor I, by Heaven! I know the Prince’s Soul, Though it be fierce, has Gratitude and Honour; And for a Deed like this, will make returns, Such as are worthy of the brave Obliger. [Exit Alon.

Abd. Yes, if he be not gone to Heaven before you come. [Aside. —What will become of Abdelazer now, Who with his Power has thrown away his Liberty?

Leon. Your Liberty! Oh, Heaven forbid that you,
Who can so generously give Liberty,
Should be depriv’d of it!
It must not be whilst Leonora lives.

Abd. ‘Tis she that takes it from me.

Leon. I! Alas, I wou’d not for the World Give you one minute’s Pain.

Abd. You cannot help it, ‘tis against your Will; Your Eyes insensibly do wound and kill.

Leon. What can you mean? and yet I fear to know.

Abd. Most charming of your Sex! had Nature made
This clouded Face, like to my Heart, all Love,
It might have spar’d that Language which you dread;
Whose rough harsh sound, unfit for tender Ears,
Will ill express the Business of my Life.

Leon. Forbear it, if that Business, Sir, be Love.

Abd. Gods!
Because I want the art to tell my Story
In that soft way, which those can do whose Business
Is to be still so idly employ’d,
I must be silent and endure my Pain,
Which Heaven ne’er gave me so much lameness for.
Love in my Soul is not that gentle thing
It is in other Breasts; instead of Calms,
It ruffles mine into uneasy Storms.
—I wou’d not love, if I cou’d help it, Madam;
But since ‘tis not to be resisted here—
You must permit it to approach your Ear.

Leon. Not when I cannot hear it, Sir, with Honour.

Abd. With Honour!
Nay, I can talk in the Defence of that:
By all that’s sacred, ‘tis a Flame as virtuous,
As every Thought inhabits your fair Soul,
And it shall learn to be as gentle too;
—For I must merit you—

Leon. I will not hear this Language; merit me!

Abd. Yes—why not?
You’re but the Daughter of the King of Spain,
And I am Heir to great Abdela, Madam;
I can command this Kingdom you possess,
(Of which my Passion only made you Queen)
And re-assume that which your Father took
From mine—a Crown as bright as that of Spain.

Leon. You said you wou’d be gentle—

Abd. I will; this sullen Heart shall learn to bow,
And keep it self within the Bounds of Love;
Its Language I’ll deliver out in Sighs,
Soft as the Whispers of a yielding Virgin.
I cou’d transform my Soul to any Shape;
Nay, I could even teach my Eyes the Art
To change their natural Fierceness into Smiles;
—What is’t I wou’d not do to gain that Heart!

Leon. Which never can be yours! that and my Vows,
Are to Alonzo given; which he lays claim to
By the most sacred Ties, Love and Obedience;
All Spain esteems him worthy of that Love.

Abd. More worthy it than I! it was a Woman,
A nice, vain, peevish Creature that pronounc’d it;
Had it been Man, ‘t had been his last Transgression.
—His Birth! his glorious Actions! are they like mine?

Leon. Perhaps his Birth wants those Advantages, Which Nature has laid out in Beauty on his Person.

Abd. Ay! there’s your Cause of Hate! Curst be my Birth,
And curst be Nature that has dy’d my Skin
With this ungrateful Colour! cou’d not the Gods
Have given me equal Beauty with Alonzo!
—Yet as I am, I’ve been in vain ador’d,
And Beauties great as thine have languish’d for me.
The Lights put out, thou in thy naked Arms
Will find me soft and smooth as polish’d Ebony;
And all my Kisses on thy balmy Lips as sweet,
As are the Breezes, breath’d amidst the Groves
Of ripening Spices in the height of Day:
As vigorous too,
As if each Night were the first happy Moment
I laid thy panting Body to my Bosom.
Oh, that transporting Thought—
See—I can bend as low, and sigh as often,
[Kneels.
And sue for Blessings only you can grant;
As any fair and soft Alonzo can—
If you could pity me as well—
But you are deaf, and in your Eyes I read
[Rises with Anger.
A Scorn which animates my Love and Anger;
Nor know I which I should dismiss or cherish.

Leon. The last is much more welcome than the first;
Your Anger can but kill; but, Sir, your Love—
Will make me ever wretched, since ‘tis impossible
I ever can return it.

Abd. Why, kill me then! you must do one or t’other. [Kneels. For thus—I cannot live—why dost thou weep? Thy every Tear’s enough to drown my Soul! How tame Love renders every feeble Sense! [Rises. —Gods! I shall turn Woman, and my Eyes inform me The Transformation’s near—Death! I’ll not endure it, I’ll fly before sh’as quite undone my Soul— [Offers to go. But ‘tis not in my Power—she holds it fast— And I can now command no single part— [Returns. Tell me, bright Maid, if I were amiable, And you were uningag’d, could you then love me?

Leon. No! I could die first.

Abd. Hah!—awake, my Soul, from out this drousy Fit,
And with thy wonted Bravery scorn thy Fetters.
By Heaven, ‘tis gone! and I am now my self.
Be gone, my dull Submission! my lazy Flame
Grows sensible, and knows for what ‘twas kindled.
Coy Mistress, you must yield, and quickly too:
Were you devout as Vestals, pure as their Fire,
Yet I wou’d wanton in the rifled Spoils
Of all that sacred Innocence and Beauty.
—Oh, my Desire’s grown high!
Raging as midnight Flames let loose in Cities,
And, like that too, will ruin where it lights.
Come, this Apartment was design’d for Pleasure,
And made thus silent, and thus gay for me;
There I’ll convince that Error, that vainly made thee think
I was not meant for Love.

Leon. Am I betray’d? are all my Women gone? And have I nought but Heaven for my Defence?

Abd. None else, and that’s too distant to befriend you.

Leon. Oh, take my Life, and spare my dearer Honour!
—Help, help, ye Powers that favour Innocence.
[Enter Women.
Just as the Moor is going to force in Leonora,
enters to him Osmin in haste.

Osm. My Lord, Alonzo—

Abd. What of him, you Slave—is he not secur’d? Speak, dull Intruder, that know’st not times and seasons, Or get thee hence.

Osm. Not till I’ve done the Business which I came for.

Abd. Slave!—that thou cam’st for. [Stabs him in the Arm.

Osm. No, ‘twas to tell you, that Alonzo, Finding himself betray’d, made brave resistance; Some of your Slaves h’as killed, and some h’as wounded.

Abd. ‘Tis time he were secured; I must assist my Guards, or all is lost. [Exit.

Leon. Sure, Osmin, from the Gods thou cam’st,
To hinder my undoing; and if thou dy’st,
Heaven will almost forgive thy other Sins
For this one pious Deed.—
But yet I hope thy Wound’s not mortal.

Osm. ‘Tis only in my Arm—and, Madam, for this pity, I’ll live to do you Service.

Leon. What Service can the Favourite of the Moor, Train’d up in Blood and Mischiefs, render me?

Osm. Why, Madam, I command the Guard of Moors,
Who will all die, when e’er I give the Word.
Madam, ‘twas I caus’d Philip and the Cardinal
To fly to th’ Camp,
And gave ‘em warning of approaching Death.

Leon. Heaven bless thee for thy Goodness.

Osm. I am weary now of being a Tyrant’s Slave,
And bearing Blows too; the rest I could have suffer’d.
Madam, I’ll free the Prince.
But see, the Moor returns.

Leon. That Monster’s Presence I must fly, as from a killing Plague.

[Ex. with her Women. Enter Abdelazer with Zarrack, and a Train of Moors.

Abd. It is prodigious, that a single Man Should with such Bravery defend his Life Amongst so many Swords;—but he is safe. Osmin, I am not us’d to sue for Pardon, And when I do, you ought to grant it me.

Osm. I did not merit, Sir, so harsh a Usage.

Abd. No more; I’m asham’d to be upbraided, And will repair the Injury I did thee.

Osm. Acknowledgment from you is pay sufficient.

Abd. Yet, Osmin, I shou’d chide your Negligence, Since by it Philip lives still, and the Cardinal.

Osm. I had design’d it, Sir, this Evening’s Sacrifice.

Abd. Zarrack shall now perform it—and instantly: Alonzo too must bear ‘em company.

Zar. I’ll shew my Duty in my haste, my Lord.
[Ex. Zar.

Osm. Death! I’m undone; I’ll after him, and kill him. [Offers to go.

Abd. Osmin, I’ve business with you.—

[Osm. comes back bowing.
As they are going off, enter Leonora, Ordonio, other
Lords, and Women.

Leon. Oh Prince! for Pity hear and grant my Suit.
[Kneels.

Abd. When so much Beauty’s prostrate at my Feet,
What is’t I can deny?—rise, thou brightest Virgin
That ever Nature made;
Rise, and command my Life, my Soul, my Honour.

Leon. No, let me hang for ever on your Knees, Unless you’ll grant Alonzo Liberty.

Abd. Rise, I will grant it; though Alonzo, Madam, Betray’d that Trust I had repos’d in him.

Leon. I know there’s some Mistake; let me negotiate
Between my Brother and the Gallant Moor.
I cannot force your Guards,
There is no Danger in a Woman’s Arm.

Abd. In your bright Eyes there is, that may corrupt ‘em more Than all the Treasures of the Eastern Kings. Yet, Madam, here I do resign my Power; Act as you please, dismiss Alonzo’s Chains. And since you are so generous, to despise This Crown, which I have given you, Philip shall owe his Greatness to your Bounty, And whilst he makes me safe, shall rule in Spain. —Osmin— [Whispers.

Ord. And will you trust him, Madam?

Leon. If he deceive me, ‘tis more happy far To die with them, than live where he inhabits.

Osm. It shall be done.

Abd. Go, Osmin, wait upon the Queen; And when she is confin’d, I’ll visit her, Where if she yield, she reigns; if not, she dies. [Aside.

[Ex. Abd. one way, Leon. Osm. and the rest another.

SCENE III. A Prison.

Discovers Philip chain’d to a Post, and over against him the Cardinal and Alonzo in Chains.

Phil. Oh, all ye cruel Powers! is’t not enough
I am depriv’d of Empire, and of Honour?
Have my bright Name stol’n from me, with my Crown!
Divested of all Power! all Liberty!
And here am chain’d like the sad Andromede,
To wait Destruction from the dreadful Monster!
Is not all this enough, without being damn’d,
To have thee, Cardinal, in my full view?
If I cou’d reach my Eyes, I’d be reveng’d
On the officious and accursed Lights,
For guiding so much torment to my Soul.

Card. My much wrong’d Prince! you need not wish to kill By ways more certain, than by upbraiding me With my too credulous, shameful past misdeeds.

Phil. If that wou’d kill, I’d weary out my Tongue
With an eternal repetition of thy Treachery;—
Nay, and it shou’d forget all other Language,
But Traitor! Cardinal! which I wou’d repeat,
Till I had made my self as raging mad,
As the wild Sea, when all the Winds are up;
And in that Storm, I might forget my Grief.

Card. Wou’d I cou’d take the killing Object from your Eyes.

Phil. Oh Alonzo, to add to my Distraction, Must I find thee a sharer in my Fate?

Alon. It is my Duty, Sir, to die with you.—
But, Sir, my Princess
Has here—a more than equal claim to Grief;
And Fear for her dear Safety will deprive me
Of this poor Life, that shou’d have been your Sacrifice.

Enter Zarrack with a Dagger; gazes on Philip.

Phil. Kind Murderer, welcome! quickly free my Soul, And I will kiss the sooty Hand that wounds me.

Zar. Oh, I see you can be humble.

Phil. Humble! I’ll be as gentle as a Love-sick Youth, When his dear Conqu’ress sighs a Hope into him, If thou wilt kill me!—Pity me and kill me.

Zar. I hope to see your own Hand do that Office.

Phil. Oh, thou wert brave indeed, If thou wou’dst lend me but the use of one.

Zar. You’ll want a Dagger then.

Phil. By Heaven, no, I’d run it down my Throat, Or strike my pointed Fingers through my Breast.

Zar. Ha, ha, ha, what pity ‘tis you want a Hand.

Enter Osmin.

Phil. Osmin, sure thou wilt be so kind to kill me! Thou hadst a Soul was humane.

Osm. Indeed I will not, Sir, you are my King. [Unbinds him.

Phil. What mean’st thou?

Osm. To set you free, my Prince.

Phil. Thou art some Angel sure, in that dark Cloud.

Zar. What mean’st thou, Traitor?

Osm. Wait till your Eyes inform you.

Card. Good Gods! what mean’st thou?

Osm. Sir, arm your Hand with this. [Gives Phil. a Sword, goes to undo Alonzo.

Zar. Thou art half-damn’d for this! I’ll to my Prince—

Phil. I’ll stop you on your way—lie there—your Tongue
[Kills him.
Shall tell no Tales to day—Now, Cardinal—but hold,
I scorn to strike thee whilst thou art unarm’d,
Yet so thou didst to me;
For which I have not leisure now to kill thee.
—Here, take thy Liberty;—nay, do not thank me;
By Heaven, I do not mean it as a Grace.

Osm. My Lord, take this— [To Alon. and the Card. And this—to arm your Highness.

Alon. Thou dost amaze me!

Osm. Keep in your Wonder with your Doubts, my Lord.

Phil. We cannot doubt, whilst we’re thus fortify’d— [Looks on his Sword. Come, Osmin, let us fall upon the Guards.

Osm. There are no Guards, great Sir, but what are yours; And see—your Friends I’ve brought to serve ye too.

[_Opens a back Door. Enter Leonora and Women, Ordonio, Sebastian, Antonio, etc.

Phil. My dearest Sister safe!

Leon. Whilst in your Presence, Sir, and you thus arm’d.

Osm. The Moor approaches,—now be ready all.

Phil. That Name I never heard with Joy till now; Let him come on, and arm’d with all his Powers, Thus singly I defy him. [Draws.

Enter Abdelazer. [Osmin secures the Doors.

Abd. Hah! betray’d! and by my Slaves! by Osmin too!

Phil. Now, thou damn’d Villain! true-born Soul of Hell! Not one of thy infernal Kin shall save thee.

Abd. Base Coward Prince!
Whom the admiring World mistakes for Brave;
When all thy boasted Valour, fierce and hot
As was thy Mother in her height of Lust,
Can with the aid of all these—treacherous Swords,
Take but a single Life; but such a Life,
As amongst all their Store the envying Gods
Have not another such to breathe in Man.

Phil. Vaunt on, thou monstrous Instrument of Hell!
For I’m so pleas’d to have thee in my Power,
That I can hear thee number up thy Sins,
And yet be calm, whilst thou art near Damnation.

Abd. Thou ly’st, thou canst not keep thy Temper in; For hadst thou so much Bravery of Mind, Thou’dst fight me singly; which thou dar’st not do.

Phil. Not dare!
By Heaven, if thou wert twenty Villains more,
And I had all thy Weight of Sins about me,
I durst thus venture on;—forbear, Alonzo.

Alon. I will not, Sir.

Phil. I was indeed too rash; ‘tis such a Villain, As shou’d receive his Death from nought but Slaves.

Abd. Thou’st Reason, Prince! nor can they wound my Body More than I’ve done thy Fame; for my first step To my Revenge, I whor’d the Queen thy Mother.

Phil. Death! though this I knew before, yet the hard Word
Runs harshly thro my Heart;—
If thou hadst murder’d fifty Royal Ferdinands,
And with inglorious Chains as many Years
Had loaded all my Limbs, ‘t had been more pardonable
Than this eternal Stain upon my Name:
—Oh, thou hast breath’d thy worst of Venom now.

Abd. My next advance was poisoning of thy Father.

Phil. My Father poison’d! and by thee, thou Dog!
Oh, that thou hadst a thousand Lives to lose,
Or that the World depended on thy single one,
That I might make a Victim
Worthy to offer up to his wrong’d Ghost.—
But stay, there’s something of thy Count of Sins untold,
That I must know; not that I doubt, by Heaven,
That I am Philip’s Son—

Abd. Not for thy Ease, but to declare my Malice, Know, Prince, I made thy amorous Mother Proclaim thee Bastard, when I miss’d of killing rhee.

Phil. Gods! let me contain my Rage!

Abd. I made her too betray the credulous Cardinal,
And having then no farther use of her,
Satiated with her Lust,
I set Roderigo on to murder her.
Thy Death had next succeeded; and thy Crown
I wou’d have laid at Leonora’s Feet.

Alon. How! durst you love the Princess?

Abd. Fool, durst! had I been born a Slave, I durst with this same Soul do any thing: Yes, and the last Sense that will remain about me, Will be my Passion for that charming Maid, Whom I’d enjoy’d e’er now, but for thy Treachery. [To Osmin.

Phil. Deflour’d my Sister! Heaven punish me eternally, If thou out-liv’st the Minute thou’st declar’d it.

Abd. I will, in spite of all that thou canst do.
—Stand off, fool-hardy Youth, if thou’dst be safe,
And do not draw thy certain Ruin on,
Or think that e’er this Hand was arm’d in vain.

Phil. Poor angry Slave, how I contemn thee now!

Abd. As humble Huntsmen do the generous Lion;
Now thou darst see me lash my Sides, and roar,
And bite my Snare in vain; who with one Look
(Had I been free) hadst shrunk into the Earth,
For shelter from my Rage:
And like that noble Beast, though thus betray’d,
I’ve yet an awful Fierceness in my Looks,
Which makes thee fear t’approach; and ‘tis at distance
That thou dar’st kill me; for come but in my reach,
And with one Grasp I wou’d confound thy Hopes.

Phil. I’ll let thee see how vain thy Boastings are, And unassisted, by one single Rage, Thus—make an easy Passage to thy Heart.

[Runs on him, all the rest do the like in the same Minute.
Abd. aims at the Prince, and kills Osmin, and falls
dead himself.

—Die with thy Sins unpardon’d, and forgotten—

[Shout within.

Alon. Great Sir, your Throne and Kingdom want you now; Your People rude with Joy, do fill each Street, And long to see their King—whom Heaven preserve.

All. Long live Philip, King of Spain—

Phil. I thank ye all;—and now, my dear Alonzo, Receive the Recompence of all thy Sufferings, Whilst I create thee Duke of Salamancha.

Alon. Thus low I take the Bounty from your Hands. [Kneels.

Leon. Rise, Sir, my Brother now has made us equal.

Card. And shall this joyful Day, that has restor’d you
To all the Glories of your Birth and Merits,
That has restor’d all Spain the greatest Treasure
That ever happy Monarchy possess’d,
Leave only me unhappy, when, Sir, my Crime
Was only too much Faith?—Thus low I fall, [Kneels.
And from that Store of Mercy Heaven has given you,
Implore you wou’d dispense a little here.

Phil. Rise, (though with much ado) I will forgive you.

Leon. Come, my dear Brother, to that glorious business, Our Birth and Fortunes call us, let us haste, For here methinks we are in danger still.

Phil. So after Storms, the joyful Mariner
Beholds the distant wish’d-for Shore afar,
And longs to bring the rich-fraight Vessel in,
Fearing to trust the faithless Seas again.

EPILOGUE.

Spoken by little Mrs. Ariell.

With late Success being blest, I’m come agen;
You see what Kindness can do, Gentlemen,
Which when once shewn, our Sex cannot refrain.
Yet spite of such a Censure I’ll proceed,
And for our Poetess will intercede:
Before, a Poet’s wheedling Words prevail’d,
Whose melting Speech my tender Heart assail’d,
And I the flatt’ring Scribler’s Cause maintain’d;
So by my means the Fop Applauses gain’d.
’.was wisely done to chuse m’ his Advocate,
Since I have prov’d to be his better Fate;
For what I lik’d, I thought you could not hate.
Respect for you, Gallants, made me comply,
Though I confess he did my Passion try,
And I am too good-natur’d to deny.
But now not Pity, but my Sex’s Cause,
Whose Beauty does, like Monarchs, give you Laws,
Should now command, being join’d with Wit, Applause.
Yet since our Beauty’s Power’s not absolute,
She’ll not the Privilege of your Sex dispute,
But does by me submit.—Yet since you’ve been
For my sake kind, repeat it once agen.
Your Kindness, Gallants, I shall soon repay,
If you’ll but favour my Design to Day:
Your last Applauses, like refreshing Showers,
Made me spring up and bud like early Flow’rs;
Since then I’m grown at least an Inch in height,
And shall e’er long be full-blown for Delight.

Written by a Friend.

94, l. 12 your Friends. 4tos misprint ‘your Friend’.

p. 95, l. 23 upon my Name. 1724 ‘upon thy Name’.

p. 96, l. 12 that charming Maid. 1724 ‘the charming Maid’.

p. 96, l. 12 Whom I’d enjoy’d e’er now. 4tos ‘whom I’de enjoy e’re now’.

p. 97, l. 6 preserve. 4tos and 1724 here insert the stage direction ’.Kneels.’ But this is repeated at the line (11) ‘Thus low I take the Bounty from your Hands’ and is far more appropriate at the latter juncture. There can be no doubt that the stage direction ‘[Kneels’ should also be inserted at line 19—’Thus low I fall’—and it has been misplaced by the printer in the old copies. I have restored it.

p. 97, l. 18 only me unhappy, when, Sir, my Crime
Was only too much faith?
4tos punctuate: ‘only me unhappy? When, Sir, my Crime
Was only too much Faith;’

p. 97. l. 29 Seas again. At the conclusion 1677 prints ‘The End of the Play.’

p. 98, l. 18 Sex’s. 4tos ‘Sexes’.

p. 105 To Philaster. This Epistle Dedicatory only appears in the 4tos 1683, 1696.

p. 108 Dramatis Personae. I have added ‘Geron the old Tutor to Orsames; Gorel, a Citizen; Keeper of the Castle; A Druid; Courtiers (men and women); Officers: Guards; Huntsmen; Assassins’. 4to 1698 misprints ‘Ismenis’ for ‘Ismenes’. ‘Thursander’ for ‘Thersander’. ‘the Court of Daca’ for ‘the Court of Dacia’. 1724 gives ‘a Rabble of the Mobile’. 4tos ‘all a Rabble of the Mobile’.

p. 109, l. 4 never the Luck. 4tos ‘never the ill Luck’.

p. 109, l. 15 what’s thy Business. 1724 ‘what’s the Business’.

p. 109, l. 28 I spake. 4tos ‘I speak’.

p. 110, l. 23 conspire against him. 4tos ‘’.ainst him’. But the metre requires 1724 ‘against’.

p. 111, l. 6 him here. 4to 1696 misprints ‘here him’.

p. 111, l. 14 Virago he Daughter. 1724 ‘Virago her Daughter’, which is excellent sense but lacks the point of ‘he Daughter’.

p. 112, l. 22 Ly. You sigh. 4tos and 1724 print as prose. I have arranged metrically.

p. 113, l. 16 one of gentle Birth. 4tos ‘of the gentle Birth’. 1724 ‘of genteel Birth’.

p. 114, l. 11 Pim. Pox on her. 4tos divide Pimante’s speech at ‘let her go.’ and commence a new line with ‘Well, Colonel,’ as if metrically. I have followed 1724 as it is obviously prose.

p. 114, l. 25 Sem. That’s strange! 4tos wrongly print this speech as prose.

p. 115, l. 34 Artabazes. 4tos ‘Artabaces’.

p. 116, l. 3 mistaken thing? 4tos punctuate ‘mistaken thing;’.

p. 116, l. 6 fantastick. 1724 wrongly ‘fanatick’.

p. 116, l. 24 cruel Cause. 4to 1696 misprints ‘crul Cause’.

p. 117, l. 9 [_Sem. looks about, finds the Cap and Feathers. Sem. See, Madam, what I’ve found. 4tos and 1724 give the stage direction after the speech. I have transposed these, as obviously such an arrangement is better.

p. 118, l. 20 Ideas. 4tos wrongly ‘Idea’s’.

p. 118, 1.29 He rises. 4tos and 1724 ‘[Rises.’ But it is Thersander who is kneeling, not Cleomena. The insertion of ‘He’ saves any confusion.

p. 119, L. 9 who’re born. 4tos ‘who are born’.

p. 119, L. 11 Whom happy Fate. 4tos misprint ‘Whose happy Fate’.

p. 120, l. 29 Enter Vallentio Urania. 4to 1696 misprints ‘Urina’.

p. 121, l. 3 But one that. 1724 omits ‘one’.

p. 121, l. 16 we took her. 4to 1696 ‘wa took her’.

p. 121, l. 20 The Scythians. 4tos ‘Th’ Scythians’.

p. 122, l. 30 Arms across. 1724 ‘Arms close’.

p. 123, l. 9 I will be. 4tos ‘And will be’.

p. 123, l. 12 this Harmony. 4tos ‘his Harmony’.

p. 124, l. 11 Shore?—4tos punctuate ‘Shore;’.

p. 126, l. 18 no less. 4tos ‘not less’.

p. 127, l. 36 Amintas’ Apartment. 4tos ‘Amin. Apartment.’ 1724 ’.mintas’s Apartment.’

p. 128, l, 7 Amin. It is the King. 1724 does not arrange this metrically.

p. 128, l. 21 Ex. Amin. 4tos ‘Amin. exit.’

p. 128, l. 25 go bring. 4tos ‘and bring’.

p. 128, l. 28 effect. 4tos ‘effects’.

p. 128, l. 30 you’re lost. 4tos ‘you are lost’.

p. 129, l. 27 Unrest. 1724 misprints ‘Undrest’.

p. 130, l. 10 Not seeing. 4tos print this line—’Not seeing a Woman I ne’er had bin.’

p. 130, l. 10 Exeunt. Not in 4tos and 1724.

p. 130, l. 11 Another Room. I have added the locale, unmarked in 4tos and 1724.

p. 131, l. 12 dearest fair. 4tos ‘dear fair’.

p. 132, l. 18 Gods. 4tos misprint ‘God’s’.

p. 134, l. 14 He bows low. 4tos ‘bows low.’

p. 134, l. 15 I am. 4tos ‘I’m’.

p.. 135, l. 13 Rivulet. 4tos ‘Rivolet’.

p. 136, l. 9 Ah! Madam. 4tos divide this speech metrically. 1724 prints as prose.

p. 137, l. 10 to live. 1724 ‘I live’.

p. 137, l. 11 Passion. 1724 ‘Person’.

p. 139. l. 8 All go out but Ther. Hon. Lysan. 4tos add ‘manent Thers. Ho. Lysan.’ which is entirely superfluous.

p. 139, l. 23 Aside. 4to 1698 omits this.

p. 139, l. 28 Renders me too unartful. 4tos ‘Renders unartfull’.

p. 140, l. 11 Lys. 4tos, misprinting, omit the speech-prefix ‘Lys.’

p. 140, l. 15 Exeunt. Omitted in 4tos and 1724.

p. 141, l. 15 eighteen Tears. 1724 misprints ‘Year’.

p. 141, l. 32 then? Rage. 1724 omits ‘Rage.’

p. 144, l. 5 a Table. Geron near the Throne. I have added ‘Geron near the Throne’, which occurs neither in 4tos nor 1724, It is extraordinary that the old copies do not give the name of the old tutor amongst the Dramatis Personae? nor do they mark his presence here.

p. 144, l. 13 any other God but I? 4tos ‘any other God’s but I?’ 1724 ’.ny other here but I?’

p. 145, l. 30 Exit Geron. Neither 4tos nor 1724 mark this exit, although later in the scene the entrance of Geron (p. 148) is noted in all the old copies.

p. 147, l. 11 Ors. 4to 1696 by a strange misprint gives speech-prefix ’.er.’

p. 148, l. 9 I have. 4tos ‘I’ve’.

p. 148, l. 20 —Itis not Sleep!— 4tos ‘Is it not Sleep!’. but 1724 is far better here.

p. 148, l. 31 Arates. 4tos misprint ‘Erates.’

p. 149, l. 4 A Grove near the Camp. 4tos and 1724 omit this locale.

p. 150, l. 5 is he longer. 1724 misreads ‘is he no longer’.

p. 150, l. 8 Trumpets sound. 4to ‘Trumpet sounds.’

p. 150, l. 18 Trumpets sound. Exeunt. 4tos ‘Trumpet sounds.’ 1724 ‘Ex.’

p. 151, l. 18 Ismenes. 4tos ‘Ismenis’ throughout.

p. 152, l. 12 Horse’s. 4to 1696 misprints ‘Horses’.

p. 152, l. 13 Ura. Ex. 4tos ‘Ura. Exit’.

p. 153, l. 11 Cavalry. 4tos ‘Chavalry’.

p. 153, l. 13 yet-disputing. 1724 weakly ‘yet-disputed’.

p. 153, l. 34 to the Stranger. 1724 omits ‘to’.

p. 154, l. 7 Exeunt. Not in 4tos nor 1724.

p. 156, l. 1 drawing of. 1724 omits ‘of’.

p. 156, l. 6 Moment’s. 4tos misprint ‘Moments’.

p. 157, l. 7 reach. 4tos ‘reaches’.

p. 157, l. 18 Scene V. Changes. 4tos and 1724 ‘Scene changes’. I have numbered this scene.

p. 158, l. 15 Ism. goes in, Scene draws. 1724 omits ‘Ism. goes in’.

p. 158, l. 33 Thersander—Prince of Scythia. 1724 omits this line, marking ‘[Faints.’ at conclusion of previous line.

p. 159, l. 19 one end. 4tos ‘one hand’.

p. 160, l. 28 my Dagger to this Heart. 1724 ‘this Dagger to my Heart’.

p. 160, l. 30 these. 4tos ‘those’.

p. 160, l. 31 dear dead Prince. 1724 misprints ‘dear dear Prince’.

p. 161, l. 6 require. 4tos ‘requires’.

p. 163, l. 1 Scene II. Between the two Camps. 4tos ‘Scene the Second.’ I have added the locale, which is unmarked in all the editions.

p. 163, l. 7 te fight. 4tos ‘to fight’.

p. 164, l. 7 The Scythian Guards. 4to 1698 misprints ‘The Scythian Guards of’.

p. 164, l. 13 Exeunt. Unmarked in 4tos.

p. 166, l. 6 Aside. This is not marked in 4tos.

p. 166, l. 27 in the Earth. 4tos ‘in Earth’.

p. 168, l. 7 Exit Lysander. No former editions mark this Exit, which, however, is obviously necessary.

p. 168, l. 10 Habit that I left. 4tos ‘Habit I left’.

p. 168, l. 16 ’.is. 4tos ‘it is’.

p. 168, l. 18 remain. 4tos ‘remains’.

p. 168, l. 20 my Dishonour. 4to 1696 omits ‘my’.

p. 168, l. 26 Enter King. 4to 1698 has ‘Enter King. Lysander solus.’ Lysander is a misprint for Thersander, but the whole addition is quite unneeded.

p. 169, l. 6 given. 4tos ‘gave’.

p. 169, l. 26 Herald. 4tos ‘Herauld’.

p. 169, l. 27 Scene V. Cleomena’s Apartments. 4tos ‘Scene the Fifth.’ I have added the locale, which is unmarked in all former editions.

p. 170, l. 19 Race. 4to 1698 misprints ‘Rafe’.

p. 170, l. 26 Exit. 4tos ‘Queen Exit’.

p. 172, l. 18 People’s. 4to 1698 ‘Peoples’.

p. 173, l. 2 my Foe. 4tos omit ‘my’.

p. 173, l. 3 Exit. Val. 4tos ‘Vall, ex.’

p. 173, l. 23 Scene VI. A Street. The former editions do not mark or
number this Scene. Neither do they give locale. Their reading runs:—
‘[Exeunt.
Enter Vallentio passing over the Stage, is met’.

p. 174, l. 7 ’.ha. 4tos ‘Sha.’

p. 174, l. 7 though thats. 1724 omits ‘though’.

p. I74, l. 17 gather. 410 1698 ‘gether’.

p. 174, l. 23 Civil Wars. 4to punctuates ‘Civil Wars?’

p. 174, l. 32 Citizens goes out. 4tos ‘Cit. goes out’.

p. 175, l. 13 Scene VII. 4tos ‘Scene the Seventh.’

p. 175, l. 17 Exeunt Attendants, This stage direction is omitted in 1724 and 4tos.

p. 176, l. 25 King and Guards. 4tos omit ‘and’.

p. 177, l. 3 Murderer. 4tos ‘Mutherer’.

p. 177, l. 11 Act V. 4tos ‘Act the Fifth.’

p. 177, l. 12 Scene I. 4tos ‘Scene the First.’

p. 177, l. 17 with Guards. 4tos ‘with the Guards’.

p. 177, l. 24 any. 4tos ‘my’.

p. 178, l. 4 dy’d. 4tos ‘di’d’.

p. 179, l. 14 Scene II. 4tos ‘Scene the Second.’

p. 180, l. 5 crystal. 4tos ‘chrystal’.

p. 180, l. 29 rustick. 4to 1698 misprints ‘ruistick’.

p. 180, l. 33 now. 4tos 1698 misprints ‘no’.

p. 181, l. 6 dy’d. 4tos ‘di’d’.

p. 181, l. 24 Noise. 1724 omits this stage direction.

p. 181, l. 29 Gorel. I have added this entrance. A speech-prefix ’.orel’ is marked by all old copies in this scene, but no entrance, neither is the name given in the Dramatis Personae.

p. 181, l. 30 tearing. 1724 ‘dragging’.

p. 182, l. 12 terrably. 4tos, 1724 ‘terribly’. ‘terrably’ no doubt denotes a clownish mispronunciation.

p. 182, l. 17 It ought. 4to 1698 reads:—

‘It ought to have been presented
In a more glorious order.’

p. 183, l. 1 Dy’d. 4tos ‘Di’d’.

p. 183, l. 18 you’d. 4tos ‘you wou’d’.

p. 184, l. 25 Clemanthis’. 4tos ‘Clemanthis’.

p. 184, l. 35 of’s. 4tos ‘of his’.

p. 185, l. 24 from you one visit. 4tos ‘one visit from you’.

p. 186, l. 18 Oh, Madam. 4tos, which I follow, metrically. 1724 prose.

p. 186, l. 27 Clemanthis’. 4tos ‘Clemanthis’.

p. 187, l. 6. Scene V. Changes. No former edition numbers this scene.

p. 187, l. 8 Attendants to them. 1724 misprints ‘Attendantsm.’

p. 187, l. 18 all his Actions. 4to 1698 omits ‘all’.

p. 187, l. 34 swound. 1724 ‘swoon’.

p. 188, l. 22 With numerous. 4tos divide thus:—

‘With numerous Troops
Which swiftly make their way.’

p. 188, l. 30 I long to see. 1724 prints as far as ‘fair Princess’ prosc. 4tos metrically.

p. 189, l. 1 Ism. Geron. All former editions omit Geron’s name here though they give speech-prefix later in the scene.

p. 189, l. 27 Cleo. and Thers. All former editions read ‘[Points to Cleo.’ I have added ‘and Thers.’, which is obviously required.

p. 191, l. 9 is he. 4tos ‘was he’.

p. 191, l. 17 told you, 4to ‘told him’.

THE CITY HEIRESS.

p. 199, l. 1 To the Right Honourable. The Dedicatory Epistle only occurs in 4tos 1682, 1698.

p. 199, l. 28 Peaching. 4to 1698 weakly reads ‘Preaching’.

p. 201, l. 14 glout. 1724 ‘glour’.

p. 202, l. 10. Guinea. 4to 1682 spells ‘Guinney’ here and in each other place the word occurs.

p. 203, l. 5 Uncle to T. Wilding. 4tos 1682, 1698, ‘He is Uncle to Tom Wilding’.

p. 203 Dramatis Personae. I have added to the list—’Laboir, Man to Tom Wilding; Boy, Page to Lady Galliard; Boy, Page to Diana; Guests; Mrs. Sensure, Sir Timothy’s Housekeeper; Betty, Maid to Diana; Maid at Charlot’s lodging.’

p. 205, l. 8 huff. 4to 1698 ‘hoff’.

p. 206, l. 33 Feats. 1724 misprints ‘Fears’.

p. 206, l. 35 are you. 1724 ‘you are’.

p. 209, l. 24 when she loves. 1724 ‘then she loves’.

p. 209, l. 32 City-Heiress, Charles. 1724 omits ‘Charles.’

p. 210, l. 5 Exit. 4tos and 1724 omit this ‘Exit’ which is obviously necessary.

p. 213, l. 32 you had. 4to 1682 ‘you’d had’.

p. 215, l. 5 Legions. 4tos 1682, 1698, misprint ‘a Legend’.

p. 216, l. 30 Wild. Damn it. 1724 prints these lines as prose.

p. 220, l. 24 Mr. Foppington. 4tos 1682, 1698, ‘Mr. Foping.’

p. 223, l. 14 do your. 4to 1682 ‘does your’.

p. 223, l. 33 cunning in their
Trade of Love.
1724 divides ‘cunning in their Trade of
Love.’

p. 224, l. 6 Charl. To-night. 4tos 1682, 1698, print the first two lines of Charlot’s speech as prose.

p. 224, l. 20 hast inur’d. 1724 misprints ‘hast injur’d’.

p. 225, l. 22 cut his. 4tos 1682, 1698, ‘cut’s’.

p. 225, l. 34 Goes out with Fop. 4tos 1682, 1698, misplace this direction in the midst of Wilding’s speech after ‘Farewell’, line 29.

p. 226, l. 27 petty. 1724 ‘pretty’.

p. 226, l. 29 Wilding. 4to 1682 misprints ‘Widling’.

p. 227, l. 18 those. 4tos 1682, 1698, ‘these’.

p. 227, l. 22 New. 4to 1682 ‘Now’.

p. 228, l. 4 at Coffee-houses. 4tos 1682, 1698, omit ‘at’.

p. 228, l. 31 Manteau. 4tos 1682, 1698, ‘Manto’.

p. 232, l. 19 Scene III. None of the former editions number this scene.

p. 234, l. 25 Sir Charles his Uncle. 1724 ‘Sir Charles’ Uncle’.

p. 235, l. 36 quitting of the Town. 4to 1698 and 1724 read ‘quitting the Town.’

p. 237, l. 14 buy. 4to 1682 ‘b’ye ‘.

p. 241, l. 1 with Diana. 4tos ‘and Diana’.

p. 241, l. 8 catechize. 4tos misprint ‘chastize’.

p. 244, l. 15 she is. 4tos ‘she’s’.

p. 242, l. 5 shalt. 4tos ‘sha’t’.

p. 242, l. 22 shalt. 4tos ‘sha’t’.

p. 242, l. 31 shall I not have. 1724 ‘shall I have’.

p. 243, l. 27 Commendation. 4tos ‘Commendations’.

p. 246, l. 27 Enter Sensure. This entrance, obviously necessary here, is not marked in any former edition, although all note the exit ‘Betty and Sensure.’

p. 248, l. 3 convert from. 4to 1698 and 1724 read ‘convert for’.

p. 248, l. 15 Charms that. 4tos 1698 and 1724 ‘Charms which’.

p. 249, l. 4 Mester de Hotel. 4tos ‘Mester de Hotell.’ 1724 ‘Maitre de Hotel.’

p. 249, l. 5 Mater de Otell! 4tos ‘Meter de Otell.’

p. 249, l. 27 This next. 4to 1628 and 1724 ‘the next’.

p. 252, l. 31 I’s tell. 1724 ‘I’ll tell’.

p. 252, l. 33 wondrous. 4tos ‘wonderous’.

p. 253, l. 3 wele aday! 1724 punctuates ‘wele aday?’.

p. 254, l. 2 excellency. 4to 1682 ‘excellently’. 4to 1698 ’.xcellensie’.

p. 254, l. 22 this your fickle. 4to 1682 and 1724 omit ‘this’.

p. 257, l. 16 old. 4tos 1682, 1698, ‘odd’.

p. 258, l. 5 leav’st. 4to 1682, 1698, ‘leavest’.

p. 258, l. 12 Vizards. 1724 ‘Vizors’.

p. 258, l. 25 do you make as if you went to bed. 1724 omits this sentence.

p. 258, l. 36 Exeunt. 4tos omit.

p. 259, l. 14 Mien. 4tos ‘Mine’.

p. 259, l. 15 Hold thy fluent. 1724 prints as prose.

p. 260, l. 1 Who is a most. 1724 prints this speech as prose.

p. 261, l. 2 Twelve was. 4tos italicize this line as a quotation. 1724 prints it roman.

p. 261, l. 8 You. 4tos ‘Ye’.

p. 262, l. 20 _Cue. 4tos ‘Que’.

p. 262, l. 23 three. 1724 ‘thee’.

p. 263, l. 29 let ‘em. 4tos ‘let them’.

p. 264, l. 7 felt for. 4to 1698 and 1724 ‘felt in’.

p. 264, l. 27 know’t. 1724 ‘know it’. and prints the speech as prose.

p. 265, l. 28 I’m glad on’t. 1724 prints as prose.

p. 267, the unequal. 4to 1698 and 1724 omit ‘the’.

p. 267, l. 16 wou’d. 1724 ‘shou’d’.

p. 268, l. 2 Another Room. None of the previous editions give the locale or number the scene.

p. 269, l. 6 you. 41to 1698 and 1724 ‘ye’.

p. 270, l. 20 they go out. 4tos ‘and goes out’.

p. 272, l. 28 He goes out. I have added this stage direction as we have ’.ild, returns’.

p. 273, l. 2 Candles. 4to 1698 and 1724 ‘Candle’.

p. 275, l. 8 resolv’d no body. 1724 ‘resolv’d that nobody’.

p. 276, l. 13 Nay, that’s too much. 1724 as prose.

p. 276, l. 27 in a Rage. 4tos ‘in Rage’.

p. 277, l. 9 Exit. Not in 4tos.

p. 277, l. 12 Laboir. I have added this name to the stage direction.

p, 278, l. 1 I’d had. 1724 omits ‘had’.

p. 278, l. 9 nor. 4to ‘or’.

p. 278, l. 13 Portmantle. 4tos ‘Portmantua’.

p. 278, l. 29 conscious of Treasure. 1724 ‘where any Treasure is.’

p. 279, l. 23 Night-Cap. 4to 1682 ‘Night-Caps.’

p, 279, l. 25 feeling in. 1724 ‘feeling of’.

p. 282, l. 4 Dresswell, Laboir. I have added these names to the stage direction.

p. 282, l. 26 away with it. 1724 ‘away with him’.

p. 284, l. 13 Scene II. None of the previous editions number this scene.

p. 284, l. 15 to them. 1724 ‘to him’.

p. 285, l. 18 shall to Bed. 4to 1698 and 1724 ‘shall go to Bed.’

p. 285, l. 29 Scene III. None of the previous editions number this scene.

p. 286, l. 15 barricado’d. 4tos ‘baracado’d’.

p. 288, l. 2 naming. 1724 omits.

p. 288, l. 6 followed by Betty. I have added Betty’s exit to this stage direction.

p. 288, l. 6 Scene IV. None of the previous editions number this scene.

p. 289, l. 24 at Galliard’s Door! 1724 ‘at Lady Galliard’s Door!’.

p. 289, l. 33 meet. 4tos ‘meets’.

p. 290, l. 29 of your. 1724 ‘on your’.

p. 290, l. 33 Hopes. 1724 ‘Hours’.

p. 291, l. 1 Scene V. None of the previous editions number this scene.

p. 291, l. 12 You are mistaken. 1724 prints this speech as prose.

p. 292, l. 27 As far as. 1724 prints this as prose.

p. 292, l. 29 to Ladies. 4to 1698 and 1724 ‘to the Ladies’.

p. 293, l. 18 Care of. 1724 ‘Care on’.

p. 293, l. 21 fond. 1724 omits.

p. 294, l. 12 nought. 1724 ‘not’.

p. 294, l. 22 took. 1724 ‘taken’.

p. 294, l. 23 of Grace. 4to 1682 ‘a Grace’.

p. 295, l. 1 made. 1724 omits.

p. 298, l. 32 Exeunt. Not in 4tos, which, however, mark ‘The End.’

p. 299, l. 30 of. 4tos ‘in.’.

THE FEIGN’D CURTEZANS.

p. 301 The Feign’d Curtezans. 4to 1679 gives ‘The Feign’d Curtizans’ and so throughout.

p. 305, l. 1 To Mrs. Ellen Guin. The Dedication only occurs in 4to 1679.

p. 309, l. 1 Dramatis Personae. I have added ‘Silvio, Page to Laura Lucretia. Antonio, an Attendant to Laura Lucretia. Page to Julio. Page to Fillamour.’ In both 4to 1679 and 1724 there is great confusion between Silvio and Sabina. These characters are sometimes intermingled as one, sometimes disentangled as two. This will be duly noticed as it occurs. I have no doubt the confusion existed in Mrs. Behn’s MS. cf the play.

p. 310, l. 2 A Street. I have added the locale, unmarked in previous editions.

p. 310, l. 27 Exeunt Lau. and Ant. All previous editions reads ‘Exeunt Lau.’

p. 311, l. 35 and the. 1724 omits ‘and’.

p. 312, l. 12 Viterboan. 4to 1679 ‘Vitterboan’. and Viterbo_ ‘Vitterbo’ throughout.

p. 312, l. 16 Why, faith. 4to 1679 ‘Whe faith’.

p. 312, l. 28 with him. 4to 1679 omits ‘him’.

p. 312, l. 32 me it would. 4to 1679 ‘assur’d me wou’d’.

p. 313, l. 7 in yours. 4to 1679 ‘to yours’.

p. 313, l. 21 you out. 4to 1679 ‘out you’.

p. 314, l. 16 Francis. 4to 1679 ‘Frances’.

p. 314, l. 34 Fool’s. 4to 1679 ‘Fool’.

p. 315, l. 17 Inamorata, 4to 1679 ‘Inamorato.’

p. 315, l. 18 young Lady. 4to 1679 omits ‘young’.

p. 316, l. 3 use of. 4to 1679 ‘use on’.

p. 316, l. 31 Allons. 4to 1679 ‘Aloone.’ 1724 omits.

p, 317, l. 1 to a room in Tickletext’s lodging. I have added this locale.

p. 317, l. 3 Petro snaps. 4to 1679 ‘and Petro snaps’.

p. 320, l. i remember a fart these. 1724 ‘remember these’.

p. 320, l. 21 Pusilage. 1724 ‘Pupilage’.

p. 321, l. 23 voluntiero. 4to 1679 ‘vollentiero’.

p. 323, l. 10 wou’d. 4to 1679 ‘will’.

p. 326, l. 15 The Gardens of the Villa Medici. This locale is unmarked in all previous editions.

p. 326, l. 16 Morosini. 4to 1679 misprints ‘Murismi’.

p. 326, l. 25 Marcella and Cornelia, 4to 1679 ‘Marcella nor Cornelia.’

p. 328, l. 12 dozen years. 4to 1679 ‘dozen year’.

p. 329, l. 2 down-right. 4to 1679 ‘right down’.

p. 330, l. 9 St Teresa’s. 4to 1679 ‘St. Teretia’s’.

p. 330, l. 15 garb. 4to 1679 ‘garbo’.

p. 330, l. 27 with Silvio, Antonio, and. I have added these words to the stage direction.

p. 331, l. 3 Sans Coeur. 1724 omits. 4to 1679 reads ‘San’s Coeure.’

p. 332, l. 22 Exit with Silvio and her Train. 4to 1679 ‘Exeunt with her train.’ 1724 ‘Exit with her Train.’

p. 333, l. 24 pray for infinitely. 4to 1679 ‘pray infinitely for’.

p. 335, l. 11 for his Falshood. 4ti 1679 ‘for Falshood’.

p. 335, l. 24 Bills. 4to 1679 ‘Bill’.

p. 337, l. 4 of us. 4to 1679 ‘on’s’.

p. 338, l. 5 Cinquante per cent. 4to 1679 ‘Cinquant par cent’. I have not in any place modified and corrected the spelling of the Italian as it stands in the old editions.

p. 340, l. 1 Oblige. 4to 1679 ‘Obliges’.

p. 342, l. 11 un Bacio. 4to 1679 misprints ‘un Bacoi’.

p. 332, l. 14 you are all a little. 1724 ‘you are a little’.

p. 343, l. 2 The Corso. I have supplied the locale which all previous editions omit.

p. 343, l. 20 Enter Mor. and Octa. 4to 1679 ‘Enters Mur. and Octa.’ 1724 ‘Enters Mor. and Octa.’

p. 344, l. 21—nay, was contracted to him, fairly contracted in my own Chappel;’ 1724 ‘—nay, was contracted to him, fairly contracted to him, fairly contracted in my own Chappel ;’.

p. 345, l. 5 This fine. 1724 prints this speech as prose.

p. 346, l. 11 with Silvio and. I have added these three words to the stage direction.

p. 348, l. 15 with Phillipa. I have added an entrance for Philiipa here, although it is not marked in the former editions, as later in the scene she speaks to Cornelia, and obviously must be in attendance on her in the balcony.

p. 349, l. 6 so good. 1724 omits these words.

p. 350, l. 9 Exit Crap. I have added Crapine’s exit here as he re-enters anon with Octavio, and his exit is required by the business of the scene.

p. 351, l. 6 false-souled. Both 4to 1679 and 1724 read’false souly’, which I have ventured to alter.

p. 352, l. 12 They are going. 4to 1679 and 1724 both read ‘They go out…’, but it is obvious from Galliard and Fillamour’s conversation with Tickletext that they do not actually leave the stage, as also from the direction later ‘Offering to go.’

p. 352, l. 13 Aside. 4to 1679 and 1724 both read ‘Aside to Mar.’ An obvious mistake.

p. 352, l. 18 Exit. Both 4to 1679 and 1724 have ‘Exeunt.’ We may suppose Phillipa to have entered with Marcella and the former direction to be ‘Aside to Phil.’ but it seems more in accordance with the scene to make these two slight changes.

p. 354, l. 22 Exeunt Fil. and Gal. 4to adds ‘and Lau.’ but the 1724 ’.xit’ at the end of her next speech is obviously correct.

p. 354, l. 35 and Crapine. I have added this entrance. 4to 1679 and 1724 omit this, but both mark his exit.

p. 365, l. 7 to steal to a Wench. 1724 ‘to steal a Wench’.

p. 363, l. 26 ’.is Love. Both 4to 1679 and 1724 print this speech as prose. It is obviously verse.

p. 365, l. 21 Fil.—I’ve. 4to 1679 wrongly gives this speech to Galliard.

p. 369, l. 13 Papish. 1724 ‘Papist’.

p. 372, l. 30 Ex. Pet. with Tick. I have added this stage direction which is unmarked in the former editions, but obviously necessary here.

p. 374, l. 22 Scene II. I have numbered this scene. Former editions read ‘The Scene changes to…’.

p. 383, l. 3 Phil. 4to 1679 and 1724 both wrongly give these two lines to Fillamour.

p. 383, l. 15 Exeunt. Omitted in all former editions.

p. 383, l. 17 The Corso. I have added the locale.

p. 386, l. 19 no Sword. 4to 1679 and 1724 here needlessly repeat a stage direction ‘Enter Julio and Octavio fighting.’

p. 386, l. 32 Signior, gentle Signior. 4to 1679 reads ‘Signior, a gentle Signior’.

p. 387, l. 3 and Silvio. I have added this entrance of Silvio’s here, which is not marked in the former editions, but later Laura addresses him.

p. 387, l. 4 He’s gone. 4to 1679 and 1724 give this speech as prose but I have arranged it metrically.

p. 389, l. 25 from Silvianetta. 4to 1679 ‘from the Silvianetta’.

p. 391, l. 17 But e’er. 1724 prints this speech as prose. I have followed 4to 1679.

p. 392, l. 7 and Sabina. I have added Sabina’s exit. There exists in the former editions great confusion between Silvio and Sabina here. 4to 1679 and 1724 give Silvio’s three speeches to Galliard with prefix ‘Sab.’

p. 393, l. 1 Scene II. I have numbered the scene. 4to 1679 reads ‘Enter Laura, as before, in a Night-Gown. Scene, A Chamber.’

p. 393, l. 8 Enter Silvio. The confusion between Silvio and Sabina continues in the former editions. 4to 1679 and 1724 both give Silvio’s entrance but mark his speech ‘Sab.’ In Laura’s speech (line 14) both read ’.abina, see the Rooms’, which I have altered to ‘Silvio, see the Rooms’. Both read (line 18) ‘Enter to Sil….’.

p. 394, l. 32 and Silvio. I have added Silvio’s entrance. The confusion continues.

p. 399, l. 7 Aside. Omitted in 1724. 4to 1679 reads ‘and laughing.’

p. 400, l. 1 Scene III. I have numbered this scene.

p. 400, l. 18 Aside. 4to omits.

p. 401, l. 18 Hold, much mistaken. 4to 1679 and 1724 as prose. I have arranged metrically.

p. 401, l. 24 Aside. 4to 1679 omits.

p. 401, l. 36 This is. 4to 1679 and 1724 as prose. I have arranged metrically.

p. 402, l. 10 Ex. Jul. Fil. 4to 1679 omits this.

p. 402, l. 26 Exeunt. 4to 1679 gives no stage direction. 1724 reads ’.xit’, but obviously all go out.

p. 403, l. 23 Scene IV. I have numbered this scene.

p. 403, l. 3 I a wandring. 4to omits ‘a’.

p. 406, l. 31 And here I vow. I have arranged this speech metrically. Former editions print as prose.

NOTES: CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY.

ABDELAZER.

p. 6 Montero-Caps. Spanish montero = a hunter. A Spanish hunting-cap with two flaps for the cars. Pepys, 20 March, 1660, sees ‘two monteeres for me to take my choice of’.

p. 7 Beasts. 17th century French beste = an obsolete card game said to have resembled Nap; also certain penalties at Ombre and Quadrille. The word most frequently occurs in connection with Ombre, which is derived from the Spanish hombre=man. The one who undertakes the game has to beat each of the other two; if he fails he is said to have been beasted and pays a forfeit to the pool. It has been suggested that ‘unable to sustain himself as a man, Hombre, he becomes beast.’ c.f. The Feign’d Astrologer, iii, I (4to 1668), where Lewis speaks of

A kind of Lady-ordinary
Where they were beasting it, for that game’s in
Fashion still, though Hombre be more courtly.

Butler, Hudibras (1678), iii, 1, l. 1007, has—

These at Beste and Ombre woo
And play for love and money too.

Lestrange, Quovedo (1708), talks of spending ‘whole nights at Beste or
Ombre with my Lady Pen-Tweezel.’

p. 8 Isabella, Queen of Spain. Mrs. Lee. ‘About the year 1670, Mrs. Aldridge, after Mrs. Lee, after Lady Slinsgby’ was ‘entertain’d in the Duke’s House.’ Her husband, John Lee, joined the company at the same time. But whilst his wife became the leading tragedienne of the day, he himself never rose above the most minor and insignificant roles. A woman of superb and Junoesque beauty, haughty mein and imperious manners, Mrs. Mary Lee soon won a prominent place in the theatre. Although effective in comedy, especially in its higher flights, it was as tragedy queen she obtained her greatest triumphs. In December, 1670, she made her debut at Lincoln’s Inn Fields as Olinda, a small part in Mrs. Behn’s maiden effort, The Forc’d Marriage, and early the following year acted Daranthe, Chief Commandress of the Amazons, in Edward Howard’s dull drama, The Women’s Conquest. A few months later, in April, she played Leticia in Revet’s The Town Shifts. In 1672, at Dorset Gardens, she was Aemelia in Arrowsmith’s amusing The Reformation; 1673, Mariamne in Settle’s heroic tragedy, The Empress of Morocco, a role she acted with such excellence that it gave every token of her future greatness and advanced her to the very front rank. 1674, ahe was Amavanga in Settle’s The Conquest of China; Salome, Herod’s sister, in Pordage’s bombastic Herod and Mariamne. 1675, Chlotilda, disguised as Nigrello, in Settle’s Love and Revenge; Deidamia, Queen of Sparta, in Otway’s first and feeblest tragedy, Alcibiades, of which play she also spoke the epilogue. 1676, Roxolana in Settle’s Ibrahim, produced in May; and late the same month or very early in June the Queen of Spain in Otway’s magnificent Don Carlos, a powerful play which, supported by Betterton as Philip II, Smith as Carlos, Harris as Don John of Austria, and our great tragedienne ‘succeeded much better than either Venice Preserved or The Orphan, and was infinitely more applauded and followed for many years.’ In November she played Madam Fickle in D’Urfey’s comedy of the same name; in December Corisca in Settle’s Pastor Fido. In 1677 Mrs. Lee’s only rival, Mrs. Marshall, the leading lady of the King’s House, retired.[1] Mrs. Barry’s star was but just faintly rising on the theatrical horizon; and it is noticeable that even when this famous actress was at the height of her great reputation, we still find Mrs. Lee cast for those rÔles she made so peculiarly her own, and in which no one could approach her. In February, 1677, she acted Berenice in Otway’s Titus and Berenice, a rather tame adaption of Racine. Mrs. Barry is named for the small character of the queen’s confident, Phoenice, and was also Lucia in a farce from MoliÈre, The Cheats of Scapin, which followed the drama. Mrs. Lee naturally took no part in this afterpiece, but there is a smart epilogue, ‘spoken by Mrs. Mary Lee, when she was out of Humour,’ which commences:—

How little do you guess what I’m to say!
I’m not to ask how you like Farce or Play:
For you must know I’ve other Business now;
It is to tell you, Sparks, how we like you.

In April she gave a fine performance of Cleopatra, Sedley’s Antony and Cleopatra; in June she was acting Circe, the title-rÔle of Charles Davenant’s gorgeously mounted opera; in August, Astatius in a bucolic, whose scene is Arcady, entitled The Constant Nymph; or The Rambling Shepherd, ‘written by a Person of Quality,’ which proved anything but a success. In the autumn she created the Queen in Abdelazer; in November, Roxana in Pordage’s tumid The Siege of Babylon, a play founded upon the famous romance, Cassandra. In January, 1678, she played Priam’s prophetic daughter, a very strong part, in Banks’ melodrama, The Destruction of Troy; August of the same year, Elvira in Leanerd’s witty comedy, The Counterfeits, whence a quarter of a century later Colley Gibber borrowed pretty freely for She Wou’d and She Wou’d Not. That autumn Mrs. Lee acted Eurydice in Dryden and Lee’s Oedipus. It was this year that her husband died, and she was left a widow. In April, 1679, she played Cressida in Dryden’s Troilus and Cressida, and probably in the same month, Cleomena in Mrs. Behn’s The Young King; later in the autumn, Laura Lucretia in The Feign’d Curtezans; in October, Bellamira, the heroine of Lee’s excellent if flamboyant tragedy, Caesar Borgia, to the Borgia of Betterton and Smith’s Machiavel. In 1680 her rÔles were Arviola in Tate’s The Loyal General; Julia in Lawrence Maidwell’s capital comedy, The Loving Enemies; Queen Margaret in Crowne’s The Misery of Civil War, a version of 2 Henry VI. In the winter of this year Mrs. Lee re-married, and thenceforward is billed as Lady Slingsby, our first titled actress. Her husband was probably Sir Charles Slingsby, second baronet, of Bifrons in Kent, a nephew of Sir Robert Slingsby, Comptroller of the Navy, who had died 26 October, 1661. Sir Charles is recorded to have sold Bifrons in 1677, but we know practically nothing about him.[2] Dr. Doran supposes Lady Slingsby to have been connected with the Slingbys of Scriven, but he adduces no authority. In 1681 Lady Slingsby performed Queen Margaret in Crowne’s Henry VI, the First Part with the Murder of Gloucester, an adaption of Shakespeare’s I Henry VI, suggested by the great success of his previous alteration. She also played Regan in Tate’s foolhardy tinkering with King Lear; Sempronia in Lee’s powerful Lucius Junitis Brutus; and in December, Marguerite in the same author’s excellent The Princess of Cleves. In 1682 she acted another Roman rÔle, Tarpeia, in an anonymous tragedy, Romulus and Hersilia, produced 10 August. She also spoke Mrs. Behn’s famous epilogue reflecting upon the Duke of Monmouth. Two days later a warrant was issued for the arrest of ‘Lady Slingsby, Comoedian, and Mrs. Aphaw Behen,’ to answer for their ‘severall Misdemeanours’ and ‘abusive reflections upon Persons of Quality.’ Even if they were actually imprisoned, of which there is no evidence, the detention both of actress and authoress was very brief. On 4 December of the same year, after the union of the two companies, Lady Slingsby created Catherine de’ Medici in Dryden and Lee’s stirring tragedy, The Duke of Guise, produced at the Theatre Royal, In 1683 Lady Slingsby had no original part which is recorded, but her genius successfully helped the numerous revivals of older plays that belong to that year. In 1684 she sustained Calphurnia to the Caesar of Cardell Goodman, the Antony of Kynaston, the Brutus and Cassius of Betterton and Smith, the Portia of Mrs. Sarah Cook, in a notable revival of Julius Caesar (4to 1694), marred, however, by stagey alterations said to be the work of Davenant and Dryden two decades before. The same year she played Lucia in The Factious Citizen; Lady Noble in Ravenscroft’s Dame Dobson. In August, 1685, Clarinda in D’Urfey’s plagiarism of Fletcher’s The Sea Voyage, which he called A Commonwealth of Women. Shortly after she appears to have retired from the stage. Dame Mary Slingsby, widow, from St. Mary’s parish, was buried in old St. Pancras graveyard, 1 March, 1694. Careless historians and critics even now continually confuse Mrs. Mary Lee, Lady Slingsby, with Mrs. Elizabeth Leigh, the wife of the celebrated comedian, Antony Leigh. The two actresses must be carefully distinguished. Geneste curiously enough gives a very incomplete list of Lady Slingsby’s roles, a selection only, as he allows; he makes several bad mistakes as to dates, and entirely fails to appreciate the merits and importance of this great actress in the Restoration theatre. These errors have been largely followed, and it is become necessary to insist somewhat strongly upon the fact that Lady Slingsby was one of the leading performers of the day. In a contemporary Satire on the Players (1682-3), which has never been printed, she heads the list of actresses, and Mrs. Barry is vilipended second. The lines run as follows:—

Imprimis Slingsby has the fatal Curse
To have a Lady’s honour with a Player’s Purse.
Though now she is so plaguy haughty grown "
Yet, Gad, my Lady, I a Time have known "
When a dull Whiggish Poet wou’d go down. "
That Scene’s now changed, but Prithee Dandy Beast
Think not thyself an Actress in the least.
For sure thy Figure ne’er was seen before,
Such Arse-like Breasts, stiff neck, with all thy Store,
Are certain Antidotes against a Whore.

The ‘dull Whiggish Poet’ alluded to is Elkanah Settle, with whom at the beginning of her theatrical career Lady Slingsby was on terms of considerable intimacy. Scandal further accused her of an intrigue with Sir Gilbert Gerrard, which is referred to when the knight was attacked in A Satyr on Both Whigs and Tories, (1683, unprinted MS.)

Thou Thing made up of Buttons, Coach, and Show,
The Beasts that draw thee have more sense than thou.
Yet still thou mightst have fool’d behind the Scenes,
Have Comb’d thy Wig and set thy Cravat Strings,
Made love to Slingsby when she played the Queen,
The Coxcomb in the Crowd had passed unseen.

p. 9 Song. Poets and critics have been unanimous in their praise of this exquisite lyric, which, had she written nothing more, would alone have been amply sufficient to vindicate Aphara Behn’s genius and immortality. It was a great favourite with Swinburne, who terms it ‘that melodious and magnificent song’. Mr. Bullen is warm in its praise, whilst Professor Saintsbury justly acknowledges it to be ‘of quite bewildering beauty’.

p. 70 Stout Sceva. The centurion M. (Valerius Max. iii. ii. 23.) Cassius Scaeva at the battle of Dyrrachium, B.C. 48, showed heroic valour and maintained his post although he had lost an eye, was deeply wounded in shoulder and thigh, and his shield was pierced in 120 places. He survived, however, and lived until after Cassar’s assassination, v. Casar B.G. iii 53. Suet. Caes, 68. Flor. iv. 2. 40. Appian, B.C. ii. 60. He appears as a character in Fletcher’s The False One.

p. 98 little Mrs. Ariell. This actress doubtless belonged to the Nursery, a training theatre for boys and girls intended for the stage. Established under Royal Letters Patent issued 30 March, 1664, it is frequently alluded to in contemporary literature. There was only one Nursery, although, as it not infrequently changed its quarters, two are sometimes stated to have existed simultaneously, an easy and plausible mistake, The Nursery was originally in Hatton Garden, About 1668 it was transferred to Vere Street, and thence finally to the Barbican. Mr. W. J. Lawrence in an able history of Restoration Stage Nurseries, shows that Wilkinson’s oft-engraved view of the supposed Fortune Theatre is none other than this Golden Lane Nursery on the site of the old Fortune Theatre. Mrs. Ariell, a young girl, probably performed Fanny in Sir Patient Fancy. Occasionally the names of other Nursery actresses occur. We have a certain Miss Nanny, of whom nothing is known, billed as Clita, a small part in D’Urfey’s The Commonwealth of Women, produced August, 1685. The prefix ‘Miss’ as meaning a young girl occurs here in a bill for the first time. A decade later we have Miss Allinson as Hengo, a lad, in an alteration of Fletcher’s Bonduca, and Miss Cross as Bonvica, Bonduca’s youngest daughter. In 1693 Miss Allison, who took the part of Jano, a page boy, in Southerne’s The Maid’s Last Prayer, is billed as Betty Allison. In 1696 again, Miss Cross, with Horden, spoke the prologue to D’Urfey’s Don Quixote, Part III. In the cast, however, when she enacted Altisidora, she is described as Mrs. Cross, A Miss Howard acted Kitty in Motteux’s Love’s a Jest(1696) and, ‘in page’s habit,’ spoke the epilogue to Dilke’s The Lover’s Luck the same year. After that date ’.iss’ instead of the heretofore ‘Mrs.’ became more general.

The name of the child actress, doubtless from the Nursery, who took the young Princess Elizabeth in Banks’ Virtue Betray’d; or, Anna Bullen (1682) has not come down to us. Wits led by the Nose; or, A Poet’s Revenge, an alteration of Chamberlaine’s unacted Love’s Victory (4to 1658), produced at the Theatre Royal in the summer of 1677, has indifferent performers such as Coysh, Perrin, in the leading roles; whilst other parts are cast thus: Sir Jasper Sympleton, Stiles; Jack Drayner, Nathaniel Q.; Heroina, Mrs. Baker, Jun.; Theocrine, Mrs. F[arlee?]. Stiles, Nathaniel Q., Mrs. Baker, Jun., Mrs. F[arlee?] were all temporary recruits from the Nursery. In the spring of 1678 the younger members act again in Leanerd’s The Rambling Justice. Powre played Sir John Twiford; Disney, Contentious Surley; Mr. Q., Spywell; Mrs. Merchant, Petulant Easy; Mrs. Bates, Emilia. The Nursery disappears about 1686. Certainly in 1690 it was the custom for young aspirants to the sock and buskin to join the regular theatres without preliminary training elsewhere.

FOOTNOTES:

1. Her last original rÔle was Berenice in Crowne’s The Destruction of Jerusalem, a heroic tragedy in two parts.

2. There was a Sir Arthur Slingsby, a younger son of Sir Guildford Slingsby, Bart. Both Pepys (20 July, 1664) and Evelyn (19 July, 1664) mention the lottery he held with the King’s permission in the Banqueting House at Whitehall. Evelyn judged him to be ‘a mere shark.’

THE YOUNG KING.

p. 107 Tartarian war. Brawls and free fights, sometimes of a serious character, in the pit (Tartarus) of a Restoration theatre were of frequent occurrence. There is a well-known instance in Langbaine: ‘At the acting of this tragedy [Macbeth] on the stage, I saw a real one acted in the pit; I mean the death of Mr. Scroop, who received his death’s wound from the late Sir Thomas Armstrong, and died presently after he was remov’d to a house opposite to the Theatre, in Dorset Garden.’ This was in 1679. In April, 1682, in the pit at the Theatre Royal, Charles Dering and Mr. Vaughan drew on each other and then clambered on to the stage to finish their duel ‘to the greater comfort of the audience’. Dering being badly wounded, Vaughan was held in custody until he recovered. In Shadwell’s A True Widow (1678) Act iv, i, there is a vivid picture of a general scuffle and battle royal in the pit. cf. Dryden’s Prologue to The Spanish Friar (1681):—

Now we set up for tilting in the pit,
Where ‘tis agreed by bullies chicken-hearted
To fright the ladies first, and then be parted.

p. 107 Half crown my play…. There are many allusions to the price of admission to the pit. Pepys mentions it, and on one occasion notices ’.rdinary’ prentices and mean people in the pit at 2s 6d a-piece’. cf. Epilogue to Carye’s The Generous Enemies:—

There’s a nest of devils in the pit,
By whom our plays, like children, just alive,
Pinch’d by the fairies, never after thrive:
‘Tis but your half-crown, Sirs: that won’t undo.

p. 133 antick.—here used in its strict and original sense, ‘baroque’, ’.ococo’. A favourite word with Mrs. Behn.

p. 181 _Life it self’s a Dream. This is the very title of Calderon’s comedia, La Vida es SueÑo.

p. 183 J. Wright, esq. James Wright (1643-1713), barrister-at-law and miscellaneous writer, is now chiefly remembered by his famous pamphlet, Historia Histrionica (1699), a dialogue on old plays and players, reprinted in various editions of Dodsley. Wright was a great lover of the theatre, and ‘one of the first collectors of old plays since Cartwright.’

p. 192 spoken … at his Royal Highness’ second exile. This note fixes the date of the play as being between the latter end of March, 1679, and August of the same year. It was probably produced in April. The Duke of York sailed for Antwerp on 4 March, 1679. From Antwerp he went to the Hague and thence to Brussels. In August he was summoned home as Charles was attacked by a severe fit of ague. He returned to Brussels to escort the Duchess back, and on 27 October left for Scotland.

THE CITY HEIRESS.

p. 199 Henry, Earl of Arundel. Henry Howard, 1655-1701, son of Henry, sixth Duke of Norfolk, succeeded his father 10 January, 1684. From 1678 to 1684 he was styled Earl of Arundel, although summoned to Parliament on 27 January, 1679 as Lord Mowbray.

p. 200 Then let the strucken Deer. Hamlet, Act iii, ii.

p. 201 to roar. To be tipsily boisterous, deoauchcd and wantonly destructive. The word is common.

p. 201 to glout. To stare at; to make eyes at. Not here to frown or scowl, the usual meaning, and the sole explanation given by the N.E.D. For ‘glout’ in this sense cf. Orrery’s Guzman (1679) iv, ‘Guzman glouts at her, sighs, and folds his arms.’

p. 201 Convenient. ‘Blowing, Natural, Convenient, Tackle. Several names for a Mistress or rather a Whore.’—’An Explanation of the Cant’ prefixed to Shadwell’s The Squire of Alsatia (4to, 1688). The word occurs more than once in the course of the play. cf. Act iv, where we have

‘Enter Margaret and Mrs. Hackum with a Cawdle. Belf. Sen. Oh my dear Blowing! my Convenient! my Tackle!’

p. 201 In Reverend Shape. The allusion throughout this prologue is to Titus Oates. After his abominable perjuries this wretch was lodged at Whitehall, assigned £1200 a year and a special posse of officers and attendants.

p. 201 The Oaths … cf. Dryden’s description of Oates as Corah. Absalom and Achitophel, Part I—especially—

Who ever asked the witnesses’ high race
Whose oath with martyrdom did Stephen grace?

p. 202 Pug. A quasi-proper name for a fox. cf. R.S. Surtees’ Ask Mamma (1857-8), xv. ‘Pug … turns tail and is very soon in the rear of the hounds.’

p. 202 silken Doctor. Oates pretended to have taken the degree of D.D. at the University of Salamanca.

The spirit caught him up! the Lord knows where,
And gave him his Rabbinical degree
Unknown to foreign university.—Absalom and Achitopbel, i.

Silken of course alludes to his black silk Doctor’s gown.

p. 202 Guinea for—no Feast. This and the following verses refer to a circumstance much talked of and well laughed at by the Tories. The Duke of York having been invited to dine with the Artillery Company at Merchant-Tailors’-Hall, on 21 April, 1682; an opposition dinner was impudently projected by the Shaftesbury party, to be held at Haberdashers’ Hall, and tickets were forthwith issued at one guinea each; for the purpose, as it was declared, of commemorating the providential escape of the nation from the hellish designs of the papists, etc. The King, however, issued a salutary order forbidding the meeting as an illegal one. This supplied the loyal party with new matter for ridicule and satire against the Whigs, who were considerably dejected by their disappointment.

p. 206 overtaken—with liquor. cf. Steele, Spectator, No. 420, Wednesday, 6 August, 1712. ‘I do not remember I was ever o’ertaken in drink.’

p. 206 wholesom Act. see supra. Vol. I, The Roundheads, Act v, II, p. 457, note: ‘p. 414, an act, 24 June.’

p. 207 Forty one. The year of the Grand Remonstrance and agitation for the suppression of Episcopacy.

p. 207 guttle. To flatter, to toady. The word is rare in this sense, generally meaning to guzzle. cf. parasitus.

p. 210 Porridge. A contemptuous nickname given by Dissenters to the Book of Common Prayer. On 24 August, 1662, Pepys hears that there has been ‘a disturbance in a church in Friday St.; a great many young [people] knotting together and crying out Porridge often and seditiously in the church, and took the Common Prayer Book, they say, away.’ There is a four leaved pamphlet, 4to 1642, by Gyles Calsine, entitled ‘A Messe of Pottage, very well seasoned and crumb’d with bread of life, and easie to be digested against the contumelious slanderers of the Divine Service, terming it Poridge.’

p. 214. Opinion. Reputation, cf. Shirley, The Gamester (1637), Act i:—’Barnacle. Patience; I mean you have the opinion of a valiant gentleman.’

p. 218 watch her like a Witch. vide Vol I, p. 448, note: Women must be watcht as Witches are.

p. 228 i’ th’ Pit, behind the Scenes. The foremost benches of the pit were a recognized rendezvous for fops and beaux. The tiring rooms of the actors and actresses were also a favourite resort of wits and gallants. Pepys frequently mentions the visits he paid behind the scenes. The Epilogue to The Gentleman Dancing Master (1671) even invites cits behind the scenes:—

You good men o’ th’ Exchange, on whom alone
We must depend when Sparks to sea are gone;
Into the pit already you are come,
‘Tis but a step more to our tiring-room
Where none of us but will be wondrous sweet
Upon an able love of Lombard-Street.

p. 228 flamm’d off. Cheated, cf. Ford and Dekker’s The Witch of Edmonton, ii, II (1621):—’Susan. And then flam me off With an old witch.’

also South’s Sermons (1687):—’A God not to be flammed off with lies.’

p. 209 Lusum. i.e. Lewisham.

p. 230 in ure. In use; practice. cf. John Taylor’s The Pennyles Pilgrimage (4to 1618);—

For in the time that thieving was in ure
The gentle fled to places more secure.

p. 230 betauder. The meaning of this word (=to bedizen with tawdry finery) is plain. As it is only found here, the N.E.D. suggests it may be a nonce-verb.

p. 230 Spanish Paint. Rouge, cf. Lady Wishfort in The Way of the World (1700);—’I mean the Spanish paper, idiot. Complexion, darling, paint, paint, paint.’—Act iii, 1.

p. 230 prew. Prim, modest. A very rare, affected little word.

p. 230 rant. To be boisterously merry, cf. Farquhar, The Constant Couple (1700), Act iv, 1:—’Clincher jun. I’ll court, and swear, and rant, and rake and go to the jubilee with the best of them.’

p. 233 seditiously petitioning. In allusion to the vast number of petitions which Shaftesbury procured from the counties in support of the Exclusion Bill. The rival factions, ‘Petitioners’ and ‘Abhorrers’ were the nucleus of the two great parties, Whigs and Tories.

p. 236 Tuberose. The most fashionable perfume of the day. cf. Etheredge’s The Man of Mode (1676), Act v, 1:—’Belinda. I … told them I never wore anything but orange-flowers and tuberose.’

p. 245 hits. A stroke of luck; an opportunity.

p. 246 ignoramus. The partial verdict of the Middlesex Grand Jury ignoring the bill of the indictment against Shaftesbury, 24 November, 1681. It is frequently alluded to by Dryden, Mrs. Behn, and the Tory writers.

p. 248 Albany. James (II), Duke of York and Albany.

p. 249 Polanders. Shaftesbury aspired to be chosen King of Poland in 1675 when John Sobieski was elected to that Throne. This piece of foolish ambition and a certain physical infirmity, to wit, an abscess that in order to preserve his life had to be kept continually open by a silver pipe, got him the nickname of Count Tapsky. In The Medal (March, 1682) Dryden speaks of ‘The Polish Medal’, and Otway’s Prologue to Venice Preserv’d (1682) ridicules Shaftesbury’s regal covetings thus:—

O Poland, Poland! had it been thy lot
T’have heard in time of this Venetian plot,
Thou surely chosen hadst one king from thence
And honoured them, as thou hast England since.

An elaborate and amusing piece of sarcasm on the same subject appeared in a pamphlet entitled _A Modest Vindication of the Earl of S——y, In a Letter to a Friend concerning his being elected King of Poland, 1682. Squibs and pasquinades such as Scandalum Magnatum, or Potapski’s case; A Satire against Polish Oppression (1682), and the versified Last Will and Testament of Anthony, King of Poland abounded.

p. 251 Tantivy. Reckless, dare-devil. Said by Dr. Johnson to be derived from the sound of a hunting-horn.

p. 251 Absalom and Achitophel. The first part of this great poem was published, folio, on or a little before 17 November, 1681. A second edition, quarto, followed during December. The work was anonymous, but the authorship was never a secret. The second part, mainly from the pen of Tate, appeared in November, 1682.

p. 254 lookt Babies. To look babies is to gaze at the reflection of one’s face in another’s eyes. cf. Beaumont, The Woman Hater (1606), iii, 1:—

Gondarino. I cannot think I shall become a coxcomb, To ha’ my hair curl’d by an idle finger, * * * * * Mine eyes look’d babies in.

p. 257 an old Reckoning, 4to 1, 1682, reads ‘an odde Reckoning’. 4to 2, 1698, reads ‘an odd Reckoning’. but 1724 ‘old’ is doubtless correct.

p. 257 to give us a Song. Charlotte Butler, who played Charlot, ’.roved’, says Cibber, ‘not only a good actress, but was allowed in those days, to sing and dance to great perfection. In the dramatic operas of Dioclesian and King Arthur, she was a capital and admired performer. In speaking too, she had a sweet-toned voice, which, with her naturally genteel air and sensible pronunciation, rendered her wholly mistress of the amiable in many serious characters. In parts of humour, too, she had a manner of blending her assuasive softness, even with the gay, the lively, and the alluring.’ Fletcher’s The Prophetess was brought out as an opera, Dioclesian, at Dorset Garden in 1690. Dryden’s King Arthur, ’. dramatic opera’, music by Purcell, was produced in 1691. In the latter piece Mrs. Butler acted Philidel, an Airy Spirit.

p. 257 Charl. and Fop. dance. Jevon, who acted Foppington, had originally been a dancing master. He was famous for his grace and nimbleness.

p. 259 Mercury. The first foreign printed periodical circulating in England was Mercurius Gallobelgicus, a bound book printed in Cologne and written in Latin. The first number, a thick little octavo of 625 pages, was published in March, 1594, and contained a chronicle of events from 1588. From this ‘newsbook’ came the Latin title Mercurius, used on so many of our periodicals. In 1625 was issued the first coranto with a name, ‘printed for Mercurius Britannicus’. The earliest number in existence is 16, dated 7 April, 1625. Butler (Hudibras, II, i. 56) speaks of

Mercuries of furthest regions,
Diurnals writ for regulation
Of lying, to inform the nation.

p. 259 flam, humbug. cf. South’s Sermons (1737), II, xii, p. 443. Conscience (1692). ‘All pretences to the contrary are nothing but cant and cheat, flam and delusion.’

p. 260 Hackney. A whore. Cotgrave (1611), BringuenaudÉe, a common hackney. Stapylton’s Juvenalls Satyrs (1647), III, 76: —’And hackney-wenches that i’ th’ Circus stand’. Hudibras, III, i, 811-2:—

That is no more than every lover
Does from his hackney-lady suffer.

p. 261 Twelve was the lucky. Tom is quoting from The Happy Night, a piece which may be found in Vol. I of the Works of the Earl of Rochester (1756), and in the early pseudo-Amsterdam editions. The following note is generally appended: ‘The late Duke of Buckinghamshire was pleased to own himself the Author of this Poem.’

p. 262 _fisking and giggiting. Both these words have practically the same signification, i.e., to frisk or scamper about heedlessly, cf. Rules of Civility (1675), in Antiquary (1880):—’Madam … fisking and prattling are but ill ways to please.’

To giggit is a very rare verb. The N.E.D. only notices it as a modern
U.S.A. colloquialism, quoting Old Town Folks ‘While the wagon and uncle
Liakim were heard giggiting away.’

p. 263 Rakeshame. A common word for a profligate in the 17th century. cf. Bishop Montagu, Diatribae (1621), ‘Such roysterers and rakeshames as Mars is manned with.’

p. 269 whipping Tom. The use of a whipping boy punished for another’s fault is well known. Barnaby Fitzpatrick served that office for the young Edward VI, and Mungo Murray for Charles I.

p. 273 Intelligence. Newspaper; diurnal. ‘Letters of Intelligence’ was an early and common name for a periodical. In 1662 we have A Monthly Intelligence Relating the Affaires of the People called Quakers. No. I, August—September 1. (The only number.) In 1665, Publick Intelligence, No. i, 28 November, 1665. By Sir Roger L’Estrange. (One number.)

p. 277 I saw how. Tom is quoting these four lines from stanza vii of The Disappointment vide Vol. vi. The same poem, yclept The Insensible, appears in various editions of Rochester’s Works, and is attributed to the Earl. The Disappointment is again the title of another poem which directly precedes The Insensible.

p. 278 Enter Sensure. cf. Shadwell’s The Miser (1672), Act iv, where Squeeze escaping from Mother Cheatley’s house is exposed by being found to have donned Letrice’s red silk stocking in mistake for his own. It is said that when Shaftesbury’s house was searched for incriminating papers a lady of some little notoriety was found concealed under his bed, p. 281 the City-Charter. The Charter of the City of London was broken by the Crown in 1683. cf. Dryden’s _Prologue to the King & Queen … upon the Union of the Two Companies _spoken at Drury Lane, 16 November, 1682:—

When men will needlessly their freedom barter
For lawless power, sometimes they catch a Tartar;
(There’s a damned word that rhymes to this, call’d Charter.)

p. 282 Crape-Goivnorums. Clerics. Bailey (1755) defines crape as a “sort of thin worsted stuff of which the dress of the clergy is sometimes made”, cf. Speculum Crape-Gownsorum; or, A Looking-Glass for the young Academicks (1682). An unpublished satire (Harleian MS.), The Convocation (1688), has:—

Whole Troops of Crape Gowns with Curtains of Lawn
In the Pale of the Church together are drawn.

p. 282 Association. When Shaftesbury was apprehended and sent to the Tower in 1681, the project of an “Association” was discovered amongst his papers. The satire is very mordant here. There is a caustic pasquil entitled Massinello, or a Satyr against the Association and the Guildhall Plot. Dedicated to the Salamanca (No) Doctor, 1683. Cf. Dryden’s Prologue to the King and Qucen, spoken at the opening of their Theatre, Drury Lane, upon the Union of the Two Companies, 16 November, 1682:—

How Pennsylvania’s air agrees with Quakers,
And Carolina’s with Associators:
Both e’en too good for madmen and for traitors.

p. 289 Chitterling. Originally the smaller intestines of beasts, as of the pig, but here used as equalling “catgut”. A rare example.

p. 290 Discoverer. A name given to those who belonged to Titus Oates’ gang and feigned to have knowledge of and discover the Popish Plot.

p. 294 mump’d. tricked. Dutch mompen = to cheat. A very common expression.

p. 296 Polish Embassador then incognito? A Modest Vindication of the
Earl of S——y (1682), banters that nobleman by describing how “Polish
Deputies were immediately sent Post incognito with the Imperial Crown and
Sceptre in a Cloak-Bag”.

p. 297 Salamanca. The abominable Oates, prince of perjurers, feigned to have taken his degree D.D, at Salamanca, cf. Crowne’s City Politics (1683), Act v, where Crafty says to Dr. Panchy (Oates), “Where did you take your degree—in Beargarden?’ ‘In a learned university, Sir,’ thunders the Doctor, to which Crafty retorts, ‘I’ the University of Coffee-houses, the University of Lies.”

p. 299 Trincaloes. In Davenant and Dryden’s version of The Tempest, produced with extraordinary success at the Duke’s House, 7 November, 1667: or in Shadwell’s operatic alteration of Shakespeare produced at Dorset Garden, 30 April (or very early in May), 1674. The reference is applicable to either of these two. No sooner has Trincalo chosen Sycorax, Caliban’s sister, as his spouse, than the treacherous Stephano wins the she-monster for himself, and a battle royal ensues. Cave Underbill, a famous Gravedigger in Hamlet, excelled as Trincalo. p. 299. Fop-corner. One of the corners of the pit nearest the stage much affected by the gallants and beau critics. There are frequent allusions in prologues, epilogues and plays, cf. the ballad epilogue to Davenant’s The Man’s the Master (produced 26 March, 1668, 4to, 1669):—

Others are bolder, and never cry, shall I?
For they make our guards quail
And’twixt curtain and rail,
Oft combing their hair, they walk in Fop-Alley.

THE FEIGN’D CURTEZANS.

p. 305 To Mrs. Ellen Guin. This adulatory epistle may be paralleled with that prefixed by Duffet to his rhyming comedy, The Spanish Rogue (410, 1674). The only other known book beside these two plays dedicated to Nell Gwynne is a very rare little volume entitled Janua Di’vorum: or The Lives and Histories of the Heathen Gods, Goddesses, & Demi-Gods, by Robert Whitcombe, published in 1678, and inscribed to ‘The Illustrious Madam Ellen Guin’. Dr. Johnson’s pungent remark to the effect that Dryden has never been equalled in the hyperbole of flattery except by Aphara Behn in her address to Nell Gwynne is quoted to triteness. But then at that time it was the fashion to riot in the wildest extravagances of compliment. Neither the great laureate nor Astrea must be too harshly taken to task for their vivid verbal colouring.

p. 306 two noble Branches. Charles Beauclerk, Duke of St. Albans, born 8 May, 1670; James Beauclerk, born 25 December, 1671, ob, Septemher, 1680, the two sons of Nell Gwynne by Charles II. There is an exquisitely voluptuous painting by Gascar, engraved by Masson, of Nell Gwynne on a bed of roses whilst the two boys as winged amorini support flowing curtains and draperies. Her royal lover appears in the distance. There is also a well-known and beautiful painting of the mother and children by Lely, engraved by Richard Tompson.

p. 307 Mrs. Currer. Elizabeth Currer was born in Dublin. When quite a girl she joined the Duke’s Company in 1673, and in a few years, owing to her beauty and extraordinary spirit, became a prime favourite with the Town. Amongst her chief recorded parts are: 1677, Mrs. Hadland in The Counterfeit Bridegroom, January, 1678, Lady Fancy in Mrs. Behn’s Sir Patient Fancy; in March, Marcella in The Feign’d Curtezans; June of the same year, Madam Tricklove in D’Urfey’s Squire Oldsapp. In 1680, The Queen in Tate’s The Loyal General, and Jenny Wheedle (Matilda) in D’Urfey’s entertaining comedy The Virtuous Wife. In 1681 she created Ariadne in The Rover, Part II. and ‘Lady Elianor Butler, a young lady of great quality that was one of King Edward’s mistresses,’ in Crowne’s adaptation of, 2 Henry VI, which he dubbed The Miseries of Civil War. 1682, Eugenia in Ravenscroft’s rollicking The London Cuckolds; (probably) Lady Desbro’ in The Roundheads; Diana in The City Heiress; Isabella in The False Count; and, her greatest rÔle, Aquilina the Greek light o’ love in Venice Preserv’d to the Antonio of Leigh. ‘When Leigh and Mrs. Currer’, says Davies, ‘performed the parts of doting cully and rampant courtezan the applause was as loud as the triumphant Tories could bestow.’ Subsequent decades eliminated the intrigue between Nicky Nacky and the fumbling old senator. The scenes were thought to reek too openly of the stews, and when indeed they were played for the last time in their entirety at the express command of George II, then Prince of Wales, with Pinketham as Antonio and pretty Mrs. Horton Aquilina, the house, in spite of the high patronage, thought fit to demonstrate their pudicity in a very audible manner.[1] The critics too, in a somewhat ductile herd, have modestly decried these same episodes. Otway’s comic and satiric powers have been thoroughly underrated. Taine, however, boldly confessed that Otway ‘like Shakespeare … found at least once the grand bitter buffoonery, the harsh sentiment of human baseness’, and he demonstrates that, however odious and painful the episodes of senator and whore may be, they are true to the uttermost. Even the great nineteenth-century realist Zola did not disdain to take a hint thence for his chapters in Nana of the masochist Count Muffat and the ‘rampant courtezan’.

[Footnote 1: There was a notable performance of Venice Preserv’d at Drury Lane, 19 November, 1721, which is perhaps the occasion referred to; but, as Genest says, after the original performances the role of Aquilina is not to be found in the play bills. 2 December, 1721, Spiller acted Antonio at Lincoln’s Inn Fields.]

In 1684 Mrs. Currer created Mrs. Featly In Ravenscroft’s ‘recantation play’, Dame Dobson; she was also Sylvia in Otway’s last comedy, The Atheist, and Lady Medlar in The Factious Citizen. In 1685 she played Isabella in Tate’s farcical A Duke and no Duke, and five years later she is billed as the roystering Widow Ranter in Mrs. Behn’s posthumous comedy of the same name. Her name does not appear after 1690, latterly her appearances were few, and she seems to have been one of those ‘crept the stage by love’. An unprinted MS. Satire on the Players (1682-3) has a sharp reference to Betty Currer and cries:—

Currer ‘tis time thou wert to Ireland gone
Thy utmost Rate is here but Half-a-Crown
Ask Turner if thou art not fulsome grown.

p. 309 Silvio, Page to Laura Lucretia. (Dramatis Personae.) I have added ‘Silvio’ to the list of actors as he enters according to the stage directions, Act i, 1, and elsewhere. Julio in the same scene refers to him, and Laura Lucretia several times addresses him during the play. Act ii, 1, &c. In Act v, however, he is manifestly confused with Sabina. Laura gives Silvio certain instructions, he approaches Galliard, and his lines have speech-prefix ‘Sab.’ In the following scene the direction is ’.nter Silvio’ and his speech is given to Sabina, Laura moreover addressing him as Sabina. I have no doubt that this confusion existed in Mrs. Behn’s MS.

p. 315 Medices Villa. The Villa Medici was erected in 1540 by Annibale Lippi. The gardens are famous for their beauty. From the avenue of evergreen-oaks with a fountain before the Villa can be obtained a celebrated view of St. Peter’s.

p. 317 I may chance to turn her. Mr. Tickletext was much of the opinion of the celebrated casuist Bauny, who, in his Theologia Moralis, tractatus iv, De Poenitentia, quaestio 14, writes: ‘Licitum est cuilibet lupanar ingredi ad odium peccati ingerendum meretricibus, etsi metus sit, et vero etiam verisimilitudo non parva se peccaturum eo quod malo suo saepe sit expertus, blandis se muliercularum sermonibus flecci solitum ad libidinem.’

p. 319 Amorous Twire. Twire—a sly, saucy glance; a leer. cf. Etheridge’s The Man of Mode (1676), Act iii, III, Harriet. ‘I abominate … the affected smiles, the silly By-words, and amorous Tweers in passing.’ The verb ‘to twire’ occurs in Shakespeare’s Sonnets, xxviii, 12, and frequently elsewhere.

p. 320 Hogan-Mogan. A popular corruption, or rather perversion, of the Dutch Hoogmogend-heiden, ‘High Mightinesses’, the title of the States-General. In a transferred manner it is used as a humorous or Contemptuous adjective of those affecting grandeur and show; ‘high and mighty.’ The phrase is common. Needham, Mercurius Pragmaticus, No. 7 (1648), speaks of the ‘Hogan Mogan States of Westminster’. Tom Brown (1704), Works (1760), Vol. IV, lashes ‘hogan-mogan generals’.

p. 330 Pusilage. French pucelage; virginity; maidenhead. 1724 reading ’.upilage’ misses the whole point and comes near making nonsense of the passage. cf. Otway’s The Poets Complaint of his Muse (4to, 1680), v-vi:

No pair so happy as my Muse and I.
Ne’er was young lover half so fond,
When first his pusilage he lost;
Or could of half my pleasure boast.

p. 322 Back-Sword. A sword with a cutting edge; or single-stick (with a basket hilt).

p. 322 Parades. ‘The lessons defensive are commonly called the parades’.—Sir W. Hope’s Compleat Fencing Master (2nd edition, 1692).

p. 322 Degagements. AndrÉ Wernesson, Sieur de Liancour, in chap. v of Le Maistre d’ Armes (1686), treats ‘des DÉgagements’ in some detail. Hope defines ‘Caveating or Dis-engaging’ as ‘the slipping of your Adversaries’ sword when it is going to bind or secure yours’.

p. 322 Advancements. Advancings. ‘A man is said to Approach or Advance when being out of his adversaries’ reach or at a pretty distance from him he cometh nearer to him’.—Hope, Compleat Fencing Master.

p. 322 Eloynements. To elonge ‘is to Streatch forward one’s right Arm and Legg and to keep a close left Foot. This a Man doth when he giveth a Thrust, and when he doth it he is said to make an Elogne’ (Eloynements).—Hope, New Method of Fencing, chap. iv, XI (2nd edition, 1714), deals in detail with ‘Elonging, or making an Elonge’.

p. 322 Retierments. Retreats or Retirings are very fully described in Liancour’s Le Maistre d’ Armes, chap. iv. ‘A Man is said to Retire when being within his Adversaries’ reach he goeth out of it either by stepping or jumping backwards from his Adversary upon a Straight Line’.—Hope, Compleat Fencing Master (2nd edition, 1692).

p. 322 St. George’s Guard. ‘A guard of the broadsword or sabre used in warding off blows directed against the head’.—C. James, Military Dictionary (1802).

p. 322 Flurette. or Fluret. A fencing foil. Hope, New Method of Fencing (1714), chap, vii says: ‘[The Fencing-Master] ought to … begin his Scholars with Fleurets’.

p. 323 Ajax and Ulysses contending for Achilles his armour?

Bella mouet clypeus: deque armis anna feruntur.
Non ea Tydides, non audet OÏleos Aiax,
Non minor Atrides, non bello maior et aeuo
Poscere non alii: soli Telamone creato
LÄertaque fuit tantae fiducia laudis.—Ovid: Metamorphoscon.

xii, 621-5. Book xiii commences with a description of the contest of Ajax (Telamonis) and Ulysses for the arms of the dead Achilles. They were awarded to the prince of Ithaca.

p. 324 Clouterlest. Clumsiest. E. Phillips, Theatrum Poetarum, speaks of Spenser’s ‘rough hewn clouterly verses’. cf. Pamela, Vol. I, p. 112 (1741), ‘some clouterly ploughboy’.

p. 338 Rosemary. ‘There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance’. Hamlet, iv, v.

p. 340 Docity. Gumption. A favourite word with Mrs. Behn. cf. The False Count, ii, 11. Guill. ‘I thank heaven I have docity’, and elsewhere,

p. 341 Julio. Guilio, a silver coin worth 6_d_. It was first struck by Pope Julius II (1503-13), hence its name.

p. 346 The hour of the Berjere. L’heure du berger ou l’amant trouve celle qu’il aime favorable À ses voeux. cf. La Fontaine, Contes. La Coupe EnchantÉe. ‘Il y fait bon, l’heure du berger sonne.’ It is a favourite expression of Mrs. Behn. cf. Sir Patient Fancy, Act i, l. ’.rom Ten to Twelve are the happy hours of the Bergere, those of intire enjoyment.’ Also the charming conclusion of The Lover s Watch:—

Damon, my watch is just and new:
And all a Lover ought to do,
My Cupid faithfully will show.
And ev’ry hour he renders there
Except l’heure du BergÈre.

p. 352 Knox, or Cartwright. The allusion here is to the Scotch reformer and the Puritan divine, whose weighty tomes Tickletext might be supposed to carry with him for propagandist purposes. Fillamour has already rallied him on his Spartan orthodoxy, and anon we find the worthy chaplain hot at the ‘great work of conversion’. It has been ingeniously suggested that a reference is intended to The Preacher’s Travels of John Cartwright of Magdalen, Oxford, a book first published in 1611, and afterwards reprinted.

p. 353 St. James’s of the Incurables. The church of S. Giacomo and the adjacent Ospedale stand at the corner of the Via S. Giacomo, which leads from the Corso towards the river.

p. 378 cogging. To cog is to trick, to cheat. A word in common use.

p. 384 like to like…. A very old proverbial saying. The humours of Grim the collier are introduced by Ulpian Fulwell into his morality, Like Will to Like (1561). cf. The amusing anonymous comedy, Grim, the Collier of Croydon (1600), with its major plot of the Belphegor story.

p. 384 smoke. To detect. cf. All’s Well That Ends Well, iii, 6. ‘He was first smoked by the old lord Lafeu.’

END OF VOL. II

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