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THE

TRAGEDY

OF

THIERRY AND THEODORET.

The first edition of this Play was printed in quarto, 1621, without the name of either Author. The edition of 1648, ascribes it to Fletcher; and that of 1619, to both writers: Dr. Hyde, in the Bodleian Catalogue, assigns it to Ben Jonson, without any authority whatever. It was formerly performed frequently, but of late years has been entirely laid aside.

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• Tax me with these hot tainters?] Theobald would read, hot TAINTS. The oldest quarto exhibits tainturs; we therefore prefer taintures; and though we do not remember meeting with the word, it is more expressive of the sense of taints (here required) than tainters.

Dare

Dare term ambitious; all your ways hide

sores

Opening in the end to nothing but ulcers. Your instruments like these may call the world,

And with a fearful clamour, to examine Why, and to what we govern. From example, If not for virtue's sake, you may be honest: There have been great ones, good ones, and 'tis necessary,

Because you are yourself, and by yourself, A self-piece from the touch of power and justice, [imagine

You should command yourself. You may (Which cozens all the world, but chiefly women)

The name of greatness glorifies your actions; And strong power, like a pent-house, promises To shade you from opinion: take heed, mother!

And let us all take heed! these most abuse us: The sins we do, people behold thro' optics, Which shew them ten times more than common vices,

And often multiply them: then what justice Dare we inflict upon the weak offenders, When we are thieves ourselves?

Brun. This is Martell,

[son, Studied and penn'd unto you; whose base perI charge you by the love you owe a mother, And as you hope for blessings from her

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He that ne'er knew more trade than tales, and tumbling

Suspicions into honest hearts: what you or he,
Or all the world dare lay upon my worth,
This for your poor opinions! I am she,
And so will bear myself, whose truth and
whiteness

Shall ever stand as far from these detections
As you from duty. Get you better servants,
People of honest actions, without ends,
And whip these knaves away! they eat your
favours,

And turn 'em unto poisons. My known credit,
Whom all the courts o' this side Nile have
envied,
[question,

And happy she could cite me3, brought in Now in my hours of age and reverence, When rather superstition should be render'd? And by a rush that one day's warmth [tice, Hath shot up to this swelling? Give me jusWhich is his life!

Theod. This is an impudence; And he must tell you, that 'till now, mother, Brought you a son's obedience, and now Above the sufferance of a son. [breaks it,

Baw. Bless us!

For I do now begin to feel myself
Tucking into a halter, and the ladder
Turning from me, one pulling at my legs too.

Theod. These truths are no man's tales, but all men's troubles; [out-stare 'em : They are, tho' your strange greatness would Witness the daily libels, almost ballads, In every place almost, in every provinces, Are made upon your lust; tavern discourses; Crowds cram'd with whispers; nay, the holy temples [blush;

Are not without your curses. Now you would
But black tainted blood dare not appear,
your
For fear I should fright that too.

Brun. Oh, ye gods! [your actions:
Theod. Do not abuse their names! they see

2 Opening in the end to nothing but ulcers.] The ancient English poets were certainly not sufficiently cautious of properly accenting their verses, insomuch that it may be doubted whether they thought the rule of accenting the even syllables (viz. the second, fourth, sixth, eighth, and tenth) a necessary part of our measure. This line has the accent upon all the odd syllables, and, tho' the thought is poetry, it is not verse at all. Our authors indeed in general have such good ears, and this is so easily made right measure, that it may probably be a corruption, and the original have run,

To nothing opening in the end but ulcers.

See the rule above more fully explain'd, with the exception it admits, in a note in the first scene of Wit Without Money. Seward.

3 And happy she could site me.] Corrected in 1750,

-feel myself

Turning into a halter, and the ladder

Turning from me.] Turning into a halter, is no very natural expression. The common word of being tuck'd in a halter, seems probably the true reading.

Seward.

5 In every place, almost in every province.] Every place being much more minutely particular than every province, the almost seems improperly plac'd here. It is not very material, but rather more correct to read,

In every place almost of every province;

i. c. In every corner of every province of our kingdom.

Seward.

We apprehend the error to be merely in the punctuation, and the poet to have meant, in almost every place, in every province at least.

And

And your conceal'd sins, tho' you work like Lie level to their justice.

[moles, [a mother, Theod. The more my shame is of so bad And more your wretchedness you let mé

Brun. Art thou a son?

be so.

[me, But, woman (for a mother's name hath left Since you have left your honour), mend these ruins,

And build again that broken fame; and fairly, (Your most inteinperate fires have burnt) and quickly,

Within these ten days, take a monastery, A most strict house; a house where none may whisper, [make you Where no more light is known but what may Believe there is a day; where no hope dwells, Nor comfort but in tears

Brun. Oh, misery! [starv'd penance, Theod. And there to cold repentance, and Tie your succeeding days: or curse me, hea

ven,

If all yourgilded knaves, brokers, and bedders, Even he you built from nothing, strong Protaldye,

[maids,

Be not made ambling geldings! all your If that name do not shame 'em, fed with spunges,

To suck away their rankness! and yourself Only to empty pictures and dead arras Offer your old desires!

Brun. I will not curse you,

Nor lay a prophecy upon your pride, Tho' Heav'n might grant me both: unthankful, no! [you; I nourish'd you; 'twas I, poor I, groan'd for 'Twas I felt what you suffer'd; I lamented When sickness or sad hours held back your [wakings;

sweetness;

'Twas I pay'd for your sleeps"; I watch'd your My daily cares and fears that rid, play'd, walk'd,

Discours'd, discover'd, fed and fashion'd you To what you are; and I am thus rewarded?

Theod. But that I know these tears, I could dote on 'em,

['em

And kneel to catch 'em as they fall, then knit Into an armlet, ever to be honour'd: [ful, But, woman, they are dangerous drops, deceitFull of the weeper, anger and ill-nature.

Brun. In my last hours despis'd? Theod. That text should tell, How ugly it becomes you to err thus: Your flames are spent, nothing but smoke maintains you;

[fers,

And those your favour and your bounty sufLie not with you, they do but lay lust on you,

And then embrace you as they caught a palsy; Your power they may love, and like Spanish jennets,

Commit with such a gust―

Baw. I would take whipping,

And pay a fine now!

Exit.

Theod. But were you once disgrac'd, Or fall'n in wealth, like leaves they would fly from you, [will'd me And become browse for every beast. You To stock myself with better friends, and ser[kind,

vants; With what face dare you see me, or any manThat keep a race of such unheard-of relics, Bawds, lechers, leeches, female fornications, And children in their rudiments to vices, Old men to shew examples, and (lest art Should lose herself in act) to call back custom? Leave these, and live like Niobe! I told you how; [brance

And when your eyes have dropt away reinemOf what you were, I am your son: perform it! [Exit. Brun. Am I a woman, and no more power

in me

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'Twas I pay'd for your sleeps.] To watch another while he's sleeping, cannot simply be said to pay for his sleep; a metaphor of that nature would require a further explanation, as, I pay'd for your sleep at the price of my own watchings. As nothing of that nature appears, it is most probable that it is the mere omission of a letter, it is therefore restored, pray'd. Seward.

7

— your favour and your bounty suffers.] Seward conjectured we should read fosters; and Sympson succours; but suffers, in the sense of per its, is intelligible.

That

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Brun. It shall be so: let him seek fools for Here is my cloister.

Lec. But what safety, madam, Find you in staying here?

Brun. Th' hast hit my meaning:

I will to Thierry, son of my blessings, [tilly, And there complain me, tell my tale so subThat the cold stones shall sweat, and statues [ness; And thou shalt weep, Protaldye, in my witAnd these forswear.

mourn;

Baw. Yes; any thing but gelding! I am not yet in quiet, noble lady: Let it be done to-night, for without doubt To-morrow we are capons!

Brun. Sleep shall not seize me, Nor food befriend me but thy kisses, any Ere I forsake this desart. I live honest? He may as well bid dead men walk! I humbled, [tear me, Or bent below my power? let night-dogs And goblins ride me in my sleep to jelly, Ere I forsake my sphere!

Lec. This place you will.

Brun. What's that to you, or any,

Ye dross, ye powder'd pigsbones, rhubarb clisters!

you

Must know my designs? a college of you The proverb makes but fools.

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Prot. But, noble lady-

[not, Brun. You are a saucy ass too! Off I will If you but anger me, 'till a sow-gelder [me! Have cut you all like colts: hold me, and kiss For I am too much troubled. Make up my treasure,

And get ine horses private; come, about it!

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

Enter Theodoret, Martell, &c.

Theod. Tho' I assure myself, Martell, your counsel

Had no end but allegiance and my honour, Yet I am jealous, I have pass'd the bounds

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Make payment of the debt you ow'd her, Than in your late reproofs, not of her, but Those crimes that made her worthy of reproof.

The most remarkable point in which kings differ

From private men, is that they not alone
Stand bound to be in themselves innocent,
But that all such as are allied to them
In nearness, or dependance, by their care
Should be free from suspicion of all crime:
And you have reap'd a double benefit
From this last great act: first in the restraint
Of her lost pleasures" you remove th’example
From others of the like licentiousness;
Then when 'tis known that your severity
Extended to your mother, who dares hope for
The least indulgence or connivance in
The casiest slips that may prove dangerous
To you, or to the kingdom?

Theod. I must grant

Your reasons good, Martell, if, as she is
My mother, she had been my subject, or
That only here she could make challenge to
A place of being: but I know her temper,
And fear (if such a word become a king)
That in discovering her, I have let loose
A tigress, whose rage being shut up in dark-

ness

Was grievous only to herself; which, brought
Into the view of light, her cruelty,
Provok'd by her own shame, will turn on him

8 Will win thy mistress.] The word win does not seem very expressive, tho' as it bears some affinity to the courser in the former line, I shall not change it, but suppose it may mean, win her from her evil courses. Were a change necessary, we might use chain, confine (cutting off w in will), or ginn, perhaps the best word of all, and the nearest to the old reading, for the two first editions read winne

Perhaps we should read, wean.

Seward.

9 Ye doss.] Not finding doss in any glossary, I am forc'd to treat it as corrupt, and suppose dross or dolt to have been the original.

10 Than you report, not by bare circumstance,

Seward.

But evident proof confirm'd, has given her out.] The grammar seems deficient here, but it is easily cur'd two ways; the most probable I shall insert, but it might be,

ness.

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Of her lost pleasures.] Lost might possibly be interpreted, abandon'd, lost to all goodBut as loose seems the natural word, it was probably the true one. Seward. Lost will certainly admit of Seward's first interpretation: it seems therefore arbitrary to change the text.

That

That foolishly presum'd to let her see
The loath'd shape of her own deformity.

Mart. Beasts of that nature, when rebel-
lious threats

Begin to appear only in their eyes, Or any motion that may give suspicion Of the least violence, should be chained up; Their fangs and teeth, and all their means of hurt, [unable

Par'd off, and knock'd out; and so made To do ill, they would soon begin to loath it. I'll apply nothing; but had your grace done, Or would do yet, what your less-forward zeal In words did only threaten, far less danger Would grow from acting it on her, than may Perhaps have being from her apprehension Of what may once be practis'd: for believe it, Who, confident of his own power, presumes To spend threats on an enemy, that hath

means

[mour

To shun the worst they can effect, gives arTo keep off his own strength; nay, more, disarms

Himself, and lies unguarded 'gainst all harms Or doubt or malice may produce.

Theod. 'Tis true:

And such a desperate cure I would have us'd,
If the intemperate patient had not been
So near me as a mother; but to her,
And from me, gentle unguents only were
To be applied: and as physicians,
When they are sick of fevers, eat themselves
Such viands as by their directions are
Forbid to others, tho' alike diseas'd;
So she, considering what she is, may chal-
lenge

Those cordials to restore her, by her birth
And privilege, which at no suit must be
Granted to others.

Mart. May your pious care
Effect but what it aim'd at! I am silent.

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The good old queen, your highness' reverend

mother,

Into whose house (which was an academe, In which all the principles of lust were prac tis'd)

No soldier might presume to set his foot;
At whose most blessed intercession
All offices in the state were charitably
Conferr'd on pandars, o'er-worn chamber-
wrestlers,

And such physicians as knew how to kill
With safety, under the pretence of saving,
And such-like children of a monstrous peace;
That she, I say, should at the length provide
That men of war, and honest younger bro
thers,
[codpiece,

That would not owe their feeding to their
Should be esteem'd of more than moths12 or
Or idle vagabonds.
[drones,

Theod. I am glad to hear it;
Prithee what course takes she to do this?
Vitry. One

That cannot fail: she and her virtuous train, Wi' her jewels, and all that was worthy the carrying,

The last night left the court; and as 'tis more Than said, for 'tis confirm'd by such as met her, She's fled unto your brother.

Theod. How!

Vitry. Nay, storm not;

For if that wicked tongue of hers hath not
Forgot its pace, and Thierry be a prince
Of such a fiery temper as report [to use
Has given him out for, you shall have cause
Such poor men as myself; and thank us too
For coming to you, and without petitions:
Pray Heav'n reward the good old woman for't!
Mart. I foresaw this.

Theod. I hear a tempest coming,

That sings mine and my kingdom's ruin. Haste,

And cause a troop of horse to fetch her back! Yet stay! why should I use means to bring in A plague that of herself hath left me? Muster Our soldiers up! we'll stand upon our guard; For we shall be attempted.--Yet forbear! The inequality of our powers will yield me Nothing but loss in their defeature: something Must be done, and done suddenly. Save your labour!

In this I'll use no counsel but mine own: That course though dangerous, is best. Command

Our daughter be in readiness to attend us! Martell, your company! and honest Vitry, Thou wilt along with me?

Vitry. Yes, any where;

To be worse than I'm here, is past iny fear.

12 More than mothers or drones.] Corrected in 1750.

[Exeunt,

VOL. III.

SL

ACT

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