Mart. She is no spirit, sir; pray kiss her. Be very gentle to him! Thi. Stay!-She's warm; [brightness, And, by my life, the same lips! Tell me, Mart. The same, sir, Ord. The same still, still your servant. Oh, bless'd and happiest woman!-A dead Enter Messenger and Memberge. Ord. Oh, sleep, my lord! Thi. My joys are too much for me! Mess. Brunhalt, impatient of her constraint to see Protaldye tortur'd, has choak'd herself. Thi. Love I must die; I faint: Doctor. The queen faints too, and deadly. Ord. My last, sir, and my dearest69 ! And now, close my eyes too! Thi. Thou perfect woman! Martell, the kingdom's yours: take Mem- And keep my line alive! Nay, weep not, lady! Ord. Take me too! Farewell, Honour! 2 Doctor. They're gone for ever. Bear them unto their last beds, whilst I study I am your king in sorrows. Omnes. We your subjects! [near us! Mart. De Vitry, for your services?°, be Whip out these instruments of this mad mo. ther [cause From court, and all good people; and, be She was born noble, let that title find her A private grave, but neither tongue nor honour?! And now lead on!-They that shall read this story, Shall find that Virtue lives in good, not glory. [Exeunt omnes. 69 My last, sir, and my dearest.] There are two senses of this, which the reader will please to take his choice of. If the above points be right, fast and dearest relate to her kiss; if we point with the old editions (which the suspicion of another sense made me turn to) My last sir, and my dearest, The sense will be, my last and dearest lord! For sir is often us'd in this its original sense. Seward. Ordella had no other lords. The sense obviously is, 'Take my last kiss, and the most affectionate I ever gave.' 70 For your service.] Services was probably the original word here. 71 But neither tongue nor honour.] Both Mr. Theobald and Mr. Sympson would reject tongue here, and read tomb, but surely without sufficient reason: for tongue signifies the funeral oration, honour the escutcheons and other ceremonics of the funeral, together with the monument, or whatever may shew respect to the deceas'd. As to the character of Brunhalt, or Brunhaud, though it may perhaps be thought too shocking to appear upon the stage, history has still represented her as a worse devil than our poets have done. Thierry and Theodoret, or Theodibert, were her grand-children, whose father she had poison'd when he came of age, in order to keep the government in her own hands. She irritated Thierry against Theodibert, whom she caus'd him to slay, and then poison'd Thierry, in hopes that the states would have submitted to her government; but her horrid wickednesses being laid open to the peers of France, she was accus'd of having been the murdress of ten kings, beside debauching her grand-child Thierry, making him put away a virtuous wife, and providing him with misses. She was condemn'd to the rack, which she suffer'd three days, was then carry'd about the camp upon a camel's back, afterwards ty'd by the feet to a wild mare, and so dash'd in pieces. Seward. THE THE WOMAN-HATER. This Play was originally printed in quarto in the year 1607. It was afterwards revived by Sir William Davenant, who added a second title, Or, The Hungry Courtier, and wrote a new Prologue to it, printed in his Works, p. 239, and in the quarto of 1649. The title page of the latter edition ascribes it to both Authors: both the Original and Davenant's Prologues, however, speak of it as the production of but one; and Langbaine positively says it was one of those plays which Fletcher wrote alone. It has not been acted many years. PROLOGUE. GENTLEMEN, inductions are out of date, and a Prologue in verse is as stale as a black velvet cloak, and a bay garland; therefore you shall have it plain prose, thus: if there be any amongst you that come to hear lascivious scenes, let them depart; for I do pronounce this, to the utter discomfort of all two-penny gallery-men, you shall have no bawdry in it: or if there be any lurking amongst you in corners, with table-books, who have some hope to find fit matter to feed his malice on, let them clasp them up, and slink away, or stay and be converted. For he that made this Play means to please auditors so, as he may be an auditor himself hereafter, and not purchase them with the dear loss of his cars. I dare not call it Comedy or Tragedy; 'tis perfectly neither: a Play it is, which was meant to make you laugh; how it will please you, is not written in my part: for though you should like it to-day, perhaps yourselves know not how you should digest it to-morrow. Some things in it you may meet with, which are out of the common road: a duke there is, and the scene lies in Italy, as those two things lightly we never miss. But you shall not find in it the ordinary aid over-worn trade of jesting at lords, and courtiers, and citizens, without taxation of any particular or new vice by them found out, but at the persons of them: such, he, that made this, thinks vile, and for his own part vows, that he did never think, but that a lord, lordborn, might be a wise man, and a courtier an honest man2. PROLOGUE AT THE REVIVAL. LADIES, take't as a secret in your ear, Alas! you now expect, the usual ways Inductions.] Such as precede Cynthia's Revels, Bartholomew-Fair, The Taming of the Shrew, and many other plays of that period. By the former of those we learn, that it was usual for the speaker of a prologue, in those times, to be habited in a black cloak: it is possible the custom of dressing in black, which continued to be the fashion for prologuespeakers until very lately, was derived from hence. R. From this prologue as well as a thousand other passages in our authors, it is very evident that their plays were in the age they liv'd remarkable for the decency and delicacy of their language; though several of their expressions are become now very gross, and are apt to give offence to modest ears; but they ought to be judged by the fashion of the age they Lived in, not by that which now reigns. Sewurd. THE WOMAN-HATER. Be-lie Tis strange you stir not yet; not all this while Your patience to endure an act or two; His muse believ'd not what she then did write; [Act 1. Scene 13 Soar'd high, and to the stars your sex did For which, full twenty years he wore the bays. Into our sight how gently doth she slide, Lucio. About some weighty state-plot. Duke. And what thinks Your knighthood of it? Arr. I do think, to cure [wealth. Some strange corruptions in the common to think I chuse you out to bear me company Lucio. Your grace is careful. Arr. Very provident, [working plots 3 As if she.] This nonsensical lection is in all editions but the first quarto. Duke. Nay, knew you how my serious 4 My serious working plots.] I never think it right to discard good sense because another reading appears preferable, but a compound word, secret-working, occurr'd at first sight, and was rejected as unnecessary, 'till reading three lines below Arrigo's answer, You secretly will cross some other state, which seems to imply something of secrecy being mention'd before, the conjecture seem'd much more probable. Seward, Concern [cause; You are my friends, and you shall have the I break my sleeps thus soon to see a wench. Lucio. You're wondrous careful for your subjects' good! Arr. You are a very loving prince indeed! Duke. This care I take for them, when their dull eyes Are clos'd with heavy slumbers. Arr. Then you rise To see your wenches. Lucio. What Milan beauty hath the pow'r To charm her sovereign's eyes*, and break his sleeps? Duke. Sister to count Valore! she's a maid Would make a prince forget his throne and state, And lowly kneel to her: the general fate Duke. We stay too long.-Is the umbrana's Our general? Arr. "Tis sent. [rino, Arr. 'Tis in the chamber of Lazarillo. Arr. A courtier, my lord; And one that I wonder your grace knows not, Of meat, that have been in the court, e'er Duke. A courtier call'st thou him? And to take particular and free knowledge, Whom we do use only for our pleasures; More out of policy to be thought liberal, To deserve our love, than to reward [hear To whom we give! and do suffer ourselves to Than for love of it, tho' we seldom hate it: [about. Can touch the wheel, and turn their names Lucio. I wonder they that know their states so well, Should fancy such base slaves. Duke. Thou wonder'st, Lucio? [Milau, Lucio. I know, my lord, I would not. I should have left me no more flatterers Be well a little conflict, but it will drive Her sovereign eyes.] First quarto and Seward read as in text. 5 The umbrana.] In another passage, this fish is called an umbrane; and is probably the same which Cotgrave describes in the following manner, under the name of an umbrine: A great-eyed, round-tongued, small-toothed, and holesome sea-fish, which hath certaine 'barres over crosse her backe, and growing often to the bignesse of a maigre, is sometimes taken for it.' Florio, in his Worlde of Wordes,' folio, 1598, voce umbrine, calls it a kinde of fish, which some take to be the halybut;' and Cotgrave, who, as before, says it is sometimes taken for a maigre, gives the following account of the latter: A great and skalie fish, having a wattle on his chinne, two holes on the top of his beake neere his eyes; and two stones within his head of some vertue (as is supposed) against the cholicke: the French do tearme him thus, not because he is leane, but because by the whitenesse of his flesh he seems so; howsoever, and howsoever he be dressed, Le is reasonable good meat.' R. In stirring glances, and art still thyself Enter Lazarillo and Boy. Laz. Go, run, search, pry in every nook and angle O'th kitchens, larders, and pasteries; At this dinner, to be serv'd directly, or in- Boy. I run; but not so fast as Your mouth will do upon the stroke of eleven. [Exit. Laz. What an excellent thing did God bestow [stomach! Upon man, when he did give him a good What unbounded graces there are pour'd Upon them that have the continual command Of the very best of these blessings! 'Tis An excellent thing to be a prince; he is Serv'd with such admirable variety of fare, Such innumerable choice of delicates; His tables are full fraught with most nourishing food, [wines; And his cupboards heavy laden with rich His court is still fill'd with most pleasing varieties: In the summer his palace is full of green-geese, Fill me this day with some rare delicates, And to it shall be bidden, for thy sake, All pump and pantofle, foot-cloth riders; Of long stocks, short pain'd hose, and huge stuff'd doublets: [yet All these shall eat, and, which is more than Hath e'er been seen, they shall be satisfied!-I wonder my ambassador returns not. Enter Boy. Boy. Here I am, master. Laz. And welcome! Never did that sweet virgin in her smock, Fair cheek'd Andromeda, when to the rock Her ivory limbs were chain'd, and straight before A huge sea-monster, tumbling to the shore, The lower mess.] That is, those who used frequently mentioned in our ancient writers. To have devour'd her, with more longing sight Expect the coming of some hardy knight, That might have quell'd his pride, and set her free, Than I with longing sight have look'd for thee. Boy. Your Perseus is come, master, that will destroy him; The very comfort of whose presence shuts The monster hunger from your yelping guts. Las. Brief, boy, brief! Discourse the service of each several table Compendiously. Boy. Here is a bill of all, sir. Laz. Give it me! Laz. Why then, He is the richest prince alive! He were Provinces, seats, nor palaces, but only Boy. "Tis very fresh and sweet, sir; The fish was taken but this night, and the head, As a rare novelty, appointed by [table, Special commandment for the duke's own This dinner. Laz. If poor unworthy I may come to eat Of this most sacred dish, I here do vow (If that blind huswife Fortune will bestow But means on me) to keep a sumptuous house, A board groaning under the heavy burden And the fowl that cutteth the air: it shall To fill up room; nor should there stand Partly to make a show with, and partly My |