Of casualty unloos'd, where lastly error Hath run into the toil. Spin. Woful satisfaction For a divorce of hearts! Aur. So resolute ? I shall touch nearer home: behold these hairs, In that respect are as resolute as yours. Than doth charge of disloyalty objected Aurel. Are you so nimble? Mal. A soul sublimed from dross by com- Such as is mighty Auria's famed, descends ones, Yield to the combat of a scolding mastery, Skirmish of words. Hath your wife lewdly ranged, Adulterating the honour of your bed? Hold [not dispute, but execute your vengeance cence Unworthily and childishly, for which I challenge satisfaction. Cast. "Tis a tyranny Over an humble and obedient sweetness, Ungently to insult. Enter ADURNI. Adur. That I make good, And must without exception find admittance, To a misguided thought; and who in presence, Of only you; that granted, he amongst you, Aur. Baited by confederacy! I must have right. Spin. And I, my lord, my lord What stir and coil is here! you can suspect? 1 not. This word is accidentally omitted in the quarto. The context is so obscure, that I strongly suspect the mission of a line in this speech.-WEBER. Mal. Unthought of and unlook'd for! Spin. My ever honoured lord. Aurel. This marriage frees Each circumstance of jealousy. Aur. Make no scruple, Castanna, of the choice; 'tis firm and real: Yet common form of matrimonial compliments, My dearest, I might blame your causeless absence, Aurel. You will pardon A rash and over-busy curiosity. Spin. It was to blame; but the success remits it. Adur. Sir, what presumptions formerly have grounded Opinion of unfitting carriage to you, On my part I shall faithfully acquit Mal. You prevent the nicety; Use your own pleasure. The temple or the chamber of the duke, Lev. Yes, me you know. Heaven has a gentle mercy For penitent offenders: blessed ladies, I knew you at first sight, and tender constantly Mart. Nay, 'tis true, sir. Ben. I joy in the discovery, am thankful Aur. Let wonder henceforth cease, Of good or bad would straiten time, presented Mart. Welcome, and welcome ever. Lev. Mine eyes, sir, never shall without a blush Receive a look from yours; please to forget Was mine, and only mine. Mal. You have found a way To happiness; I honour the conversion. Mal. May style your friend your servant. Adur. But let me add An offering to the altar of this peace. [Gives her money. Aur. How likes Spinella this? our holiday Deserves the kalendar. Spin. This gentlewoman Reform'd, must in my thoughts live fair and worthy. Indeed you shall. [Offering her money. Cast. And mine; the novelty Requires a friendly love. Lev. You are kind and bountiful. Enter TRELCATIO, FUTELLI, AMORETTA, PIERO, driving in FULGOSO and GUZMAN. Trel. By your leaves, lords and ladies! to your jollities, I bring increase with mine too; here's a youngster Aur. We'll remedy the penury of fortune; Fut. You are in all unfellow'd. Piero. Think on Piero, sir. But what of these two pretty ones? The ladies, play at cards, make sport, and whistle, Is scurvy and debosh'd;' fight you abroad, Guz. He shall deserve it. The Don's a generous Don. Aur. Unfit to lose him. Command doth limit us short time for revels; After distress at sea, the dangers o'er, EPILOGUE. The court's on rising; 'tis too lato A verdict in the jury's breast, Else, if there can be any stay, Next sitting without more delay, We will expect a gentle day. Amor. Yeth, in sooth thee will. 1 deboshi d-debauched. THOMAS HEYWO O D. [Or this, the most voluminous dramatic writer in the English, and probably in any language, almost nothing is known for certain, but that he had, as he himself informs us, 'an entire hand, or at least a main finger,' in two hundred and twenty plays. He wrote, besides, several prose works, all the while attending to his duties as an actor. From two of his works we learn that he was a native of Lincolnshire; and Cartwright, in his dedication to The Actor's Vindication—a posthumous edition of Heywood's Apology for Actors—states that the author was a Fellow of Peter House, Cambridge. From Henslowe's papers it is ascertained that Heywood wrote for the stage as early as 1596; and Heywood himself, writing in 1615, and speaking of his first published drama, The Death of Robert Earl of Huntingdon, which appeared in 1601, says that it was written 'many years since in my infancy of judgment, in this kind of poetry, and my first practice.' He continued writing for the stage down to, at least, 1640. In the notice of Heywood in the last edition of Dodsley's Old Plays, the following testimony to his industry is quoted from Kirkman, the author of a catalogue of plays: he says that Heywood 'was very laborious; for he not only acted almost every day, but also obliged himself to write a sheet every day for several years together; but many of his plays being composed loosely in taverns, occasions them to be mean. . . . I could say somewhat more of him, and of all the old poets, having taken pleasure to converse with those that were acquainted with them.' As the editor of Dodsley well remarks, 'It is much to be lamented that Kirkman did not communicate to the world that information which he boasts of being able to give concerning the old poets, whose memory, for want of such intelligence, is now almost wholly lost to the world.' Of the multitude of plays written by this dramatist, only twenty-three are extant; of these the principal are, The Fair Maid of the Exchange (published 1607); A Woman Killed with Kindness (1607, acted previous to 1604); The Rape of Lucrece (1630); The Fair Maid of the West (1631); The English Traveller (1633); The Lancashire Witches (1634); Love's Mistress (1636); The Royal King and the Loyal Subject (1637). The quantity of Heywood's writings was too great to allow of their quality being preeminent; there is nothing very marked or vigorous in his style, the chief characteristics of his dramas being softness, smoothness, repose, combined with a pleasant poetical fancy; his characters generally are not drawn with any great distinctness. Although some of the scenes in his plays are sufficiently immoral, and some of his characters of the lowest type, still he never descends to the use of the disgustingly filthy language which characterizes the works of many of his contemporaries. The following is Hazlitt's estimate of Heywood :— 'As Marlowe's imagination glows like a furnace, Heywood's is a gentle, lambent flame, that purifies without consuming. His manner is simplicity itself. There is nothing supernatural, nothing startling, or terrific. He makes use of the commonest circumstances of every-day life, and of the easiest tempers, to show the workings, or rather the inefficacy of the passions, the vis inertia of tragedy. His incidents strike from their very familiarity, and the distresses he paints invite our sympathy from the calmness and resignation with which they are borne. The pathos might be deemed purer, from its having no mixture of turbulence or vindictiveness in it; and in proportion as the sufferers are made to deserve a better fate. In the midst of the most untoward reverses and cutting injuries, good-nature and good sense keep their accustomed sway. He describes men's errors with tenderness, and their duties only with zeal, and the heightenings of a poetic fancy. His style is equally natural, simple, and unconstrained. The dialogue (bating the verse) is such as might be uttered in ordinary conversation. It is beautiful prose put into heroic measure. It is not so much that he uses the common English idiom for everything (for that I think the most poetical and impassioned of our elder dramatists do equally), but the simplicity of the characters and the equable flow of the sentiments do not require or suffer it to be warped from the tone of level speaking, by figurative expressions, or hyperbolical allusions.' We have selected as a specimen of this writer, A Woman Killed with Kindness, of some passages in which Hazlitt speaks with admiration.] Both of the mind and body. First, her birth As might become the daughter of a prince: hand Can teach all strings to speak in their best grace, Frank. But that I know your virtues and chaste thoughts, I should be jealous of your praise, Sir Charles. Cran. He speaks no more than you approve. Mal. Nor flatters he that gives to her her due. Mrs. Anne. I would your praise could find a fitter theme Than my imperfect beauties to speak on: This sweet content is like a flatt'ring glass, Sir F. A perfect wife already, meek and patient. All his wild blood your father spent on you, This morning, which to many seems a burden too She doth become you like a well-made suit, There's music in this sympathy; it carries Sir F. We keep you here too long, good brother Frankford. Into the hall. Away! Go cheer your guests. What! bride and bridegroom both withdrawn at once? If you be miss'd, the guests will doubt their welcome, And charge you with unkindness. I'll leave you here, to see the dance within. [Exeunt. Sir F. To part you it were sin.— Now, gallants, while the town musicians Finger their frets within, and the mad lads, What shall we do? Hark! they're all on the hoigh;1 They toil like mill-horses, and turn as round, Yet they tread heavy where their hobnails fall. I'll make a match with you: meet to-morrow Sir C. Why, for a hundred pound. I'll make them good a hundred pound to-morrow Sir F. "Tis a match: 'tis done. Sir C. I dare: were I sure to lose, I durst do more than that: here is my hand; Sir F. A match. Wen. Ten angels on Sir Francis Acton's hawk; As much upon his dogs. Cran. I am for Sir Charles Mountford; I have seen His hawk and dog both tried. What! clap ye hands, Or is't no bargain? Wen. Yes, and stake them down. Were they five hundred, they were all my own. Sir F. Be stirring early with the lark to morrow; I'll rise into my saddle ere the sun Sir C. If there you miss me, say I am no gentleman. I'll hold my day. Sir F. It holds on all sides.-Come, to-night let's dance; Early to-morrow let's prepare to ride: We had need be three hours up before the bride. [Exeunt. Enter NICHOLAS and JENKIN, JACK SLIME, ROGER BRICKBAT, with Country Wenches and two or three Musicians. Jen. Come, Nick, take you Joan Miniver, to trace withal; Jack Slime, traverse you with Sisly Milkpail; will take Jane Trubkin, and Roger Brickbat shall have Isabel Motley. And now that they are busy in the parlour, come, strike up; we'll have a crash here in the yard. Nich. My humour is not compendious: dancing I possess not, though I can foot it; yet, since I am fallen into the hands of Sisly Milkpail, I consent. J. Slime. Truly, Nick, though we were never brought up like serving courtiers, yet we have been brought up with serving creatures; ay, and God's creatures, too; for we have been brought up to serve sheep, oxen, horses, hogs, and such like; and, though we be but country fellows, it 1 on the hoigh-eager, riotous.-NARES. 2 crash-entertainment. - NARES. Merry bout. HANMER. |