Ori. I am your grace's handmaid!
Duke. 'Would you had said myself: might
it not be so, lady?

Val. Sister, say ay; I know you can afford it.
Ori. My lord, I am your subject; you
may command me,

Provided still your thoughts be fair and good. Duke. Here; I am yours; and when I cease to be so,

Let Heav'n forget me! thus I make it good.

Ori. My lord, I am no more mine own.
Val. So! this bargain was well driven.
Gond. Duke,

Th'hast sold away thyself to all perdition;
Thou art this present hour becoming cuckold:
Methinks I see thy gall grate thro' thy veins,
And jealousy seize on thee with her talons.

55 What I? yet, &c.] As the I is undoubtedly 56 Of thy coach.] So all former editions.

If he could get a knife, sure he would cut her
throat;

Or else he'd do as Hercules did by Lycas,
Swing out her soul: he has the true hate of
A woman in him.

Ori. Low with your curtsies, ladies!
Gond. Come not too near me! I've a
breath will poison ye;

My lungs are rotten, and my stomach raw;
I'm given much to belching: hold off, as you
love sweet airs!
[jure you,
Ladies, by your first night's pleasure I con-
As you would have your husbands proper
['ein hate
Strong backs, and little legs; as you'd have
Your waiting-women-

men,

[obtain'd

Ori. Sir, we must court you, 'till we have Some little favour from those gracious eyes; 'Tis but a kiss a-piece.

Gond. I pronounce

Perdition to ye all! Ye are a parcel of That damned crew that fell down with Lucifer,

[men: And here ye stay'd on earth to plague poor Vanish, avaunt! I'm fortified against Your charms. Heav'n grant me breath and patience!

1 Lady. Shall we not kiss, then?

Gond. No! sear my lips with [ret's! Hot irons first, or stitch them up like a ferOh, that this brunt were over!

2 Lady. Come, come,

[troth

Little rogue, thou art too maidenly; by my
I think I must box thee 'till thou be'st bolder;
The more bold, the more welcome: I prithee
kiss me!

Be not afraid.

[She sits on his knee. Gond. If there be any here [them That yet have so much of the fool left in As to love their mothers, let them look on And loath them too! [her56,

2 Lady. What a slovenly little villain Art thou! why dost thou not stroke up thy hair?

I think thou never comb'st it; I must have
it lie

In better order: so, so, so! Let me see
Thy hands! are they wash'd?

[golls!

Gond. I would they were loose, for thy sake!
Duke. She tortures him admirably.
Val. The best that ever was.
2 Lady. Alas, how cold they are.
Why dost thee not get thee a muff? [woman
Arr. Madam, here's an old country gentle-

Poor

Plant cannons there, and discharge them
Against my breast rather! Nay, first
Let this she-fury sit still where she does,
And with her nimble fingers stroke my hair,
Play with my fingers' ends, or any thing,
Until my panting heart have broke my breast!
Duke. You must abide her censure.
[The Lady rises from his knee.

Enter old Gentlewoman.

Gond. I see her come!

Unbutton me, for she will speak.
Gentlew. Where is he, sir?
Gond, Save me! I hear her.

[ence.

Arr. There he is in state, to give you audi
Gentlew. How does your good lordship?
Gond. Sick of the spleen.
Gentlew. How?
Gond. Sick.

Gentlew. Will you chew a nutmeg?
You shall not refuse it; 'tis very comfortable.
Gond. Nay, now thou art come, I know it is
The devil's jubilee; hell is broke loose!
My lord, if ever I have done you service,
Or have deserv'd a favour of your grace,
Let me be turn'd upon some present action,
Where I may sooner die than languish thus!
Your grace hath her petition; grant it her,
And ease me now at last!

Duke. No, sir;
You must endure.

Gentlew. For my petition,

I hope your lordship hath remember'd me.
Ori. 'Faith, I begin to pity him: Arrigo,
Take her off; bear her away; say her petition
Is granted.

Gentlew. Whither do you draw me, sir?
I know it is not my lord's pleasure I
Should be thus us'd, before my business be
Dispatch'd.

Arr. You shall know more of that without.
Ori. Unbind him, ladies! But, before he go,
This he shall promise: for the love I bear
To our own sex, I would have them still
Hated by thee; and enjoin thee, as a punish-

ment,

Never hereafter willingly to come

56 Let them on her, and loath them too.] Sympson would read,.

Set them on her, and loo 'em too;

which Seward justly rejects; but thinks he discovers a meaning in these words, which they certainly do not convey; viz. If there be any here that are such fools to retain a love even for their mothers, let them be persecuted by this woman, and they will loath them, i. e. < their mothers also.'-It has been very ingeniously suggested, that we probably should read, Let them honour and loath them too;

i. e. Let them feel the opposite sensations of honouring and despising them at the same time.'-But the source of the difficulty has, we apprehend, been the loss of the word look, which being restored, the passage carries with it its own explanation.

VOL. III.

3 Т

In

In the presence or sight of any woman,
Nor never to seek wrongfully the public
Disgrace of any.

Gond. "Tis that I would have sworn, and do;
When I meddle with them57, for their good,
Or their bad, may time call back this day
again!

And when I come in their companies,
May I catch the pox by their breath, and have
No other pleasure for it!

Duke. You are

Too merciful.

Ori. My lord, I shew'd my sex
The better.

Val. All is over-blown. Sister,
You're like to have a fair night of it,
And a prince in your arms.-Let's go, my
lord58.

Duke. Thus, thro' the doubtful streams of
joy and grief,

True love doth wade, and finds nt last relief. [Exeunt omnes.

57 When I meditate with them.] So all editions but the first quarto; from which invaluable copy we have made a great number of corrections, some more beneficial to the sense than this before us. On many of the errors in the later editions, we had prepared notes, and proposed variations; but on collating the text with the quarto above-mentioned (which we should not have been able to do, but for the favour of Mr. Garrick), we have suppressed our notes, and silently made the amendments there pointed out: not chusing to adopt the mode of our predecessors; who, in such cases, commonly inserted very prolix refutations of the lection in the then-last edition, proposed variations, of which they adopted the best, and then concluded their notes with, AND THIS IS CONFIRMED BY THE OLDEST EDITIONS. 58 Let's go, my lord.] Perhaps these words belong to Oriana.

It seems not quite clear that the whole of this play was written in verse; but many speeches that evidently resolve themselves into measure having been printed as prose, Seward very properly endeavoured to restore them to their original state. He has, in our opinion, not always been elegant or accurate in his division. We are not entirely satisfied with our own; yet think the text at least runs off more easily in this edition than in any preceding one, less violated by arbitrary additions, omissions, and transpositions, and the eye and ear less offended by elisions, more barbarous than those of Procrustes.

THE

THE NICE VALOUR;

OR,

THE PASSIONATE MADMAN.

A COMEDY;

The Commendatory Verses by Gardiner ascribe this Play to Fletcher; the Prologue and Epilogue speak of the Poet singly; Seward (see note 3 on the Commendatory Poems) supposes it to be Beaumont's. It was first printed in the folio of 1647; and hath never been altered, that we are able to discover.

IT

PROLOGUE AT THE REVIVAL OF THIS PLAY.

grows in fashion of late, in these days, To come and beg a suffrage to our plays': 'Faith, gentlemen, our poet ever writ [wit, Language so good, mix'd with such sprightly He made the theatre so sovereign With his rare scenes, he scorn'd this crouching vein.

We stabb'd him with keen daggers, when we
pray'd

Him write a preface to a play well made.
He could not write these toys; 'twas easier far
To bring a felon to appear at th' bar
So much he hated baseness; which this day,
His scenes will best convince you of in's play.

A suffrage to our plays.] First folio exhibits sufferance.

SCENE I.

ACT I.

Enter Duke, Shamont, and Four Gentlemen.

Duke. SHAMONT, welcome! we have

miss'd thee long,

Tho' absent but two days: I hope your sports
Answer your time and wishes.

Sham. Very nobly, sir;

We found game worthy your delight, my lord,
It was so royal.

Duke. I've enough to hear on't;
Prithee bestow't upon me in discourse.

1 Gent. What is this gentleman, coz? you are a courtier,

Therefore know all their insides.

2 Gent. No further than the taffaty goes,
good coz,

For the most part, which is
Of the most general inside.
I can with boldness speak
character,

[part indeed the best Marry, thus far this one man's

And upon bonour pass it for a true one:
He has that strength of manly merit in him,
That it exceeds his sovereign's power of grac-
ing;

He's faithfully true to valour, that he hates
The man from Cæsar's time, or further off,
That ever took disgrace unreveng'd;
And if he chance to read his abject story,
He tears his memory out, and holds it virtuous
Not to let shame have so much life amongst

us;

There is not such a curious piece of courage
Amongst man's fellowship, or one so jealous
Of Honour's loss, or Reputation's glory:
There's so much perfect of his growing story!
1 Gent. 'Twould make one dote on Virtue,
as you tell it.
[it, coz.

2 Gent. I have told it to much loss, believe

3 Gent. How the duke graces him! What is he, brother?

4 Gent. Don't you yet know him? a vain-
glorious coxcomb,.

As proud as he that fell for't'!
Set but aside his valour2, no virtue,
Which is indeed not fit for any courtier,
And we his fellows are as good as he,
Perhaps as capable of favour too,
For one thing or another, if 'twere look'd into.
Give me a man, were I a sovereign now,
'Has a good stroke at tennis, and a stiff one;
Can play at equinoctium with the line,
As even as the thirteenth of September,
When day and night lie in a scale together!
Or, may I thrive as I deserve at billiards;
No otherwise at chess, or at primero !
These are the parts requir'd; why not ad-
vanc'd?
[lent pleasure;
Duke. Trust me, it was no less than excel-
And I'm right glad 'twas thine.-How fares
our kinsman ?

Who can resolve us best?

1 Gent. I can, my lord. [bounds,
Duke. There, if I had a pity without
It might be ill bestow'd: a man so lost
In the wild ways of passion, that he's sensible
Of nought but what torments him!

1 Gent. True, my lord;

He runs thro' all the passions of mankind,
And shifts 'em strangely too: one while in love;
And that so violent, that, for want of business,
He'll court the very 'prentice of a laundress,
Tho' she have kib'd heels; and in's melan-
choly again,
[fairer

He will not brook an empress, tho' thrice
Than ever Maud was3, or higher-spirited
Than Cleopatra, or your English countess.
Then, on a sudden he's so merry again,

As proud as he that fell for't;] i. e. As proud as Lucifer, who fell through pride.

2 Set but aside his valour no virtue:

Which is indeed not fit for any courtier.] The old folio points thus,

Set but aside his valour, no virtue

Which is indeed, not fit for any courtier,

And we his fellows, &c.

Seward.

This latter is better sense, and therefore restored to the text, but as the construction from the position of the words is a little stiff, and the measure not compleat, perhaps the original might have run,

Set but aside his valour, which indeed

No virtue is, not fit for any courtier.

Seward.

Seward's reading is as stiff as the other. There seems to be a word or two dropped in the preceding line, which has more obscured the passage; the sense of which seems to have been to this effect:

As proud as he that fell for't! HE POSSESSES,
Set but aside his valour, no virtue;

Which (i. e. his valour) is indeed not fit for any courtier, &c.

It is very common with our authors to refer to a remote autecedent.

3

Muud.] The empress Maud, daughter of Henry I. and mother of Henry II.

R.

Out