THE CORONATION'. A COMEDY. The first edition of this Play was printed in quarto in the year 1640, and has the name of John Fletcher prefixed to it, as the Author. Upon this authority we have retained it in the present edition, notwithstanding there is evidence of equal weight to authorize us to ascribe it to James Shirley, the editor of the first folio in 1647. That writer, in the year 1653, published a volume of his Plays, and at the end of one of them, viz. The Cardinal, has enumerated the several dramatic pieces written by him: amongst the rest, he has claimed the present performance, which, he says, was falsely ascribed to Fletcher;" with what degree of truth, it is impossible now to determine. We think no argument can be drawn from the omission of it in the first folio, for the reason assigned in the first note to the Play. It has not been acted for many years past, nor do we know of its having ever been altered. The Coronation.] It were to be wished that the publisher of our authors' works in 1679 had given his reasons in the preface, or elsewhere, why he took this play into that edition. There seems to be no just grounds upon which he could go for so bold a practice, seeing the editor of the first folio in 1647, Mr. Shirley, has left it out; a person who must be better acquainted with what was our authors', as living nearer to their time, than the editor of the second folio in 1679. 'Tis true, there are several fine strokes in it, which might possibly be Fletcher's; but those will no more entitle him to claim it for his own, than it will Shakespeare to assert the play of the Noble Kinsman, in which we know he was partially concerned to Mr. Shirley, therefore, as he has laid claim to it, let's give this performance; nor rob him of the glory which The Coronation may do his memory. Sympson. This note betrays a wonderful inattention in Sympson: since the Coronation was one of the plays printed in quarto, and Shirley professed to insert none in the folio that had ever appeared in quarto, PROLOGUE, PROLOGUE. Present a welcome to these gentlemen! This Coronation he hopes you may There rests but to prepare you, that altho' No under-mirth, such as doth lard the scene For coarse delight; the language here is clean; And confident, our poet bad me say, But we conclude not; it does rest in you sit As free and high commissioners of wit, men Were lost, in your eyes they'll be found again: 2 Who thinks it yet too early.] Corrected in 1750. 3 Our wreath from you.] Mr. Seward conjectured with me, that one, not our, must bẹ the word, and so I have altered the text. Sympson. Enter Philocles and Lysander. tor! ACT I. Philocles. MAKE way for my lord-protecLysan. Your grace's servants! Enter Cassander and Lysimachus. Cass. I like your diligent waiting. Where's Lysim. I wait upon you, sir. Her gracious smiles on me. Cass. She does consult Her safety in't; for I must tell thee, boy, I must away. [Exit. The king, who was no Epirote, advanc'd But forc'd to yield, had fair conditions, If the king wanted issue: our hopes only Phil. Whom, but for her smiles [ears. Lysan. Take heed! the arras may have I should not weep much if his grace would Remove to Heav'n. [hence Phil. I prithee what should he do there? Lysun. Some offices will fall. [higher Phil. And the sky too, ere I get one stair While he's in place. a man wish himself a courtier Of such a possibility: he has The mounting fate. Phil. I would his father were Mounted to th' gallows! Ant. H'has a path fair enough If he survive, by title of his father. 4 Is not the queen yet coming forth? It is too cheap a name; there were a match Now for her virgin blood! Lysan. Must every man, That has a handsome face or leg, feed such Ambition? I confess I honour him, He has a nimble soul, and gives great hope To be no woman-hater; dances handsomely, Can court a lady powerfully; but more Goes to the making of a prince. He's here, And's uncle. Enter Arcadius, Macarius, and Seleucus. Sel. Save you, gentlemen! Who can direct To find any lord-protector? Lysan. He was here [me Within this half-hour: young Lysimachus Sel. There let him compliment; I've other business.-Ha, Arcadius! [Exit. Phil. Observ'd you with what eyes Arcadius And he saluted? their two families [scorn Ant. Seleucus carries Himself too roughly: with what pride and He pass'd by 'em! Lysun. The other, with less show Of anger, carries pride enough' in's sou! : I wish 'em all at peace! Macarius' looks Are without civil war, a good old man, The old king lov'd him well; Seleucus' father Was as dear to him, and maintain'd the cha racter Of an honest lord thro' Epire: that two men, So lov'd of others, should be so unwelcome To one another! Arc. The queen was not wont To send for me. Mac. The reason's to herself; It will become your duty to attend her. Lysan. None, sir; the news Lysan. Your servant.] Lysander's asking this question supposes, that the gentlemen interrogated were capable of giving him an answer; but that the reader sees is no where to be found; therefore I have thought proper to mark an hiatus in the present text. Sympson. Sympson, we suppose, meant Lysimachus, instead of Lusander, who asks no question, but is the next speaker. That That took the last impression is, that you Purpose to leave the kingdom, and those men That honour you take no delight to hear it. Arc. I have ambition to see the difference Of courts, and this may spare me; the delights At home do surfeit; and the mistress, whom We all do serve, is fix'd upon one object; Her beams are too much pointed. But no country Shall make me lose your memories. Enter Sophia, Lysimachus, and Charilla. Mac. Your lordship honour'd me; Done like a pious uncle. Sophia. We must not Give any licence. Arc. If your majesty Would pleasc [your duty Sophia. We are not pleas'd! It had become T'have first acquainted us, ere you declar'd Your resolution public. Is our court Not worth your stay? Arc. I humbly beg your pardon! Sophia. Where's Lysimachus? Lysim. Your humble servant, madam. [us. Employment at home for you; do not lose Arc. Madam, I then write myself bless'd 5 I know you would have me look upon These names from you, madam, is grace enough. Sophia. Yet here you would not rest? To say there is a happiness beyond, Lysim. Let me digest my blessing! Lysim. How, madam! Do not make me And wake me into inisery, if your purpose Be, to immortalize your humble servant! Your power on earth's divine; princes are here The copies of eternity, and create, Believe you mock me in this argument; Lysim How! no power? Sophia. Not as a queen. Lysim. I understand you not. [tector. Sophia. I must obey; your father's my proLysim. How! Sophia. When I'm absolute, Lysimachus, Our power and titles meet; before, we're but A shadow, and to give you that were nothing. Lysim. Excellent queen! my love took no original From state, or the desire of other greatness, 'Bove what my birth may challenge modestly. I love your virtues; mercenary souls Are taken with advancement: you've an empire Within you, better than the world's; to that Looks my ambition. Sophia. T'other is not, sir, To be despis'd; cosmography allows Epire a place i'th' map; and know, 'till I Your person as a courtier, not a favourite.] This unmusical, nonsensical place, is differ rently read in the quarto of 1640, That of 1679, I know you would not have me look upon Your person as a courtier, not as favourite; I know, &c. as a courtier, but a favourite; But yet the place is sad stuff still. I would suppose it once originally run thus: I know you would not Your person as a courtier, but a (or as) favourite; Sympson. Possess Possess what I was born to, and alone Lysim. I apprehend. Enter Cassander and Seleucus. Cass. Madam, a gentleman has an humble suit. [arc protector; Sophia. 'Tis in your power to grant; you I am not yet a queen. Cass. How's this? Lysim. I shall expound her meaning. Sel. Madam, to reconcile two families That may unite both counsels and their blood To serve your crown. Sophia. Macarius', and Eubulus', That bear inveterate malice to each other. It grew, as I have heard, upon the question (Which some of either family had made) Which of their fathers was the best commander: If we believe our stories, they have both Deserv'd well of our state; and yet this quarrel Has cost too many lives; a severe faction! Sel. But I'll propound a way to plant a quiet And peace in both our houses, which are torn With their dissensions, and lose the glory Of their great names: my blood speaks my relation T'Ebulus; and I wish my veins were emptied T' appease their war. Sophia. Thou hast a noble soul! This is a charity above thy youth, [way. And it flows bravely from thee. Name the Sel. In such a desperate cause, a little stream [hearts: Of blood might purge the foulness of their If you'll prevent a deluge Sophia. Be particular! Sel. Let but your majesty consent that two May, with their personal valour, undertake The honour of their family, and determine Their difference. Sophia. This rather will enlarge Their hate, and be a means to call more blood Into the stream. Sel. Not if both families Agree, and swear Sophia. And who shall be the champions? Sel. I beg the honour, for Ebulus' cause To be engag'd, if any for Macarius (Worthy to wager heart with mine) accept it: I'm confident, Arcadius (For honour would direct me to his sword) Of both your houses; it would seem injustice Hath no acquaintance yet with rugged war, Than his devotion; and who knows but he His head for her gay colours; then his band With blood, beside th' infashionable slashes; His hands, cas'd up in gloves all night, and Sel. Is this character Bestow'd on him? 6 May lose his ribbon by it in his lock.] Alluding to the ridiculous fashion, in our authors tine, of wearing love-locks. This custom is also satyrized in Cupid's Revenge; which see. 7 I dare not think, yet I must speak somewhat.] Why then 'tis plain he would speak without thinking; and is not this heroically said? However, tho' he durst not think, yet he was obliged to speak, to keep himself from bursting. How nonsense, like faune, vires acquirit eundo! Surely, if we suppose the words could ever be sense, we must imagine they run once thus: I dare not speak—and yet I must speak something, I shall burst else; i. e. He was afraid of speaking lest he should utter an affront to his queen; and yet if he did not speak, his anger unvented might do him a mischief. Sympson: We think the text good and genuine, and Sympson's raillery pointless and ill-founded. VOL. III. Sophia. |