Suit to the pale queen of night And bring thee coral, making way Or steal from Heav'n old Orpheus' lute? Clo. No other service, Satyr, but thy watch About these thickets, lest harmless people catch which we call the rack, and are not perceived below, pass without noise.' So Shakespeare, in his Tempest, And, like this substantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind.' To rack in this sense is sometimes used as a verb. In the old play of the Raigne of King Edward III. 1596, - like inconstant clouds, That, rack'd upon the carriage of the winds, • Encrease and die.' THE MAD LOVER. A TRAGI-COMEDY. The Commendatory Verses by Gardiner, Hills, and Lovelace, ascribe this Play wholly to Fletcher; other writers, to him and Beaumont conjunctively. The first publication of the Mad Lover was in the folio of 1647. We do not know of any alterations having been made in it, nor has it been acted for many years past. To find the minds here equal with the men.] So many men so many minds,' is an old saying. It seems here to be implied that one man has many minds.' Fraught. This word generally, in the old books, is used for freight. ACT I. Flourish. Enter Astorax, Calis, train, Cleanthe, Lucippe, and Gentlewomen, at one door; at the other, Eumenes. Eumenes. HEALTH to my sovereign! King. Eumenes, welcome! May it disperse itself, and make all happy! more master of his fortunes, Expert in leading 'em; in doing valiant, In following all his deeds to victories, And holding Fortune certain there.] I shall now return to meer verbal criticisms. By the reading and pointing above, the first step of a most beautiful climax is taken away and placed to a former sentence, where it is quite unnecessary. The four qualifications of a great general are strongly marked out: Expert in leading on; valiant in the combat; prudent in guiding his valour to victory, and in making his victories decisive. I make the pause fuller at the end of the first line, and put in the second what to me bids fairest for having been the original; though it might have heen Expert in leading, and in doing valiant. Mr. Seward reads, more master of his fortunes; Expert in leading on; in doing valiant; more master of his fortunes. Seward. Expert in leading 'em.] Surely this, which is the old reading, is the right reading. What ean prove a man more master of his fortunes, than his being expert in leading 'em? Besides that, Mr. Seward's pointing mars the syntax, and deprives the two last lines of the word valiant, that governs them: Here a repetition of valiant is understood, as of the word more in the first two lines: 'Ne'er was a soldier more master of his fortunes, [more] expert in leading 'em; valiant in doing, [valiant] in following his deeds on to victory, and in maintaining it when acquired.' A general general.] i, e. A complete general. The latter editions read, a general's general. Enter Memnon, with a train of courtiers and soldiers, two Captains, Chilax, Sc. Valiant and wise are twins, Sir.-Welcome, welcome! Welcome, my fortunate and famous general! High in thy prince's favour, as in fame, Welcome to peace, and Paphos! Mem. Thank your grace! [sweetness And 'would to God my dull tongue had that To thank you as I should; but pardon me, My sword and I speak roughly, Sir: Your battles, [you I dare well say, I have fought well; for I bring That lazy end you wish for, peace, so fully That no more name of war is: Who now thinks Sooner or safer these might have been ended, Begin 'em if he dare again; I'll thank him. Soldier and soldier's mate these twenty-five years, At length your general, (as one whose merit Durst look upon no less) I've waded thro' Dangers would damp these soft souls, but to hear of. [Sir. The maidenheads of thousand lives hang here, Since which time, prince, I know no court but martial, [King takes Memnon aside, and talks with him. Cle. How he talks, How gloriously. Calis. A goodly-timber'd fellow; Valiant no doubt. Cle. If valour dwell in vaunting. In what a phrase he speaks, as if his actions Calis. I wonder, wenches, Cle. Nothing but larum, Tell us whose throat he cut, shew us his sword, And bless it for sure biting. Lucip. An't like your grace, I do not think he knows us, what we are, Affirm he never saw a woman that exceeded Calis. Sure his lordship's viewing Lucip. If he mount at me, I may chance choak his batt'ry. [lour Keeps quarter this way: Venus grant his vaBe not in love! Cle. If he be, presently Expect a herald and a trumpet with you, To bid you render; we two perdu's pay for't else. [ladies, King. I'll leave you to my sister, and these To make your welcome fuller. My good sol[ship; dier, We must now turn your sternness into courtWhen you have done there, to your fair re[Flourish. pose, Sir! I know you need it, Memnon. Welcome, gentlemen! [Exit. Lucip. Now he begins to march. Madam, the van's yours; 5 The maidenheads of thousand lives hang here, Sir.] This line seems to have been shuffled by some accident out of its place. It ought, as we conjecture, to be inserted lower in the speech: Here it interrupts the sense; but there it falls happily in with it. We would therefore wish to omit it where it now stands, and to insert it after the line, And ev'ry where I conquer'd, and for you, Sir. or in execution.] This signifies the sack of a town, and is used by Jonson in that sense as well as our Author. Seward. Keep your ground sure; 'tis for your spurs.7 Mem. Oh, Venus! [He kneels amaz'd, and forgets to speak. Calis. How he stares on me. Cle. Knight him, madam, knight him; He'll grow to th ground else. Eum. Speak, Sir; 'tis the princess. 1 Capt. You shame yourself; speak to her. Calis. Rise and speak, Sir. [Sir! You are welcome to the court, to me, to all, Lucip. Is he not deaf? Calis. The gentleman's not well. Eum. Fy, noble general! [How do you? Lucip. Give him fresh air; his colour gocs. The princess will be glad, Sir Mem. Peace, and hear me. Cle. Command a silence there. [ceed, Sir. Calis. I thank your lordship heartily: ProLucip. Lord, how it stuck in's stomach, like a surfeit. [be thanked. Cle. It breaks apace now from him, God What a fine-spoken man he is. Lucip. A choice one; Of singular variety in carriage! [distance. Cle. Yes, and I warrant you he knows his Mem. Good lady, kiss me. [up to her. Calis. Kiss you at first, my lord? 'Tis no Our lips are like rose-buds; blown with mens' They lose both sap and savour; there's my hand, Sir. Eum. Fy, fy, my lord! this is too rude. Consume me if I hurt her. Good sweet lady, Let me but look upon thee. Calis. Do. Mem. Yet! Calis. Well, Sir, Take your full view. Lucip. Bless your eyes, Sir. Is this the man they talk'd of for a soldier, Of making sport with men for ignorance, [ward. An old druin-head, to draw the thunder downCalis. Look to him, gentlemen. Farewell, lord! I'm sorry We cannot kiss at this time; but, believe it, We'll find an hour for all. God keep my children [wenches, From being such sweet soldiers! Softly, Lest we disturb his dream. [Exeunt Calis and ladies. Eum. Why, this is monstrous. [holds it. 1 Capt. A strange forgetfulness, yet still he 2 Capt. Tho' he ne'er saw a woman of great fashion Before this day, yet methinks 'tis possible He might imagine what they are, and what Belongs unto 'em; meer report of others Eum. Pish, 2 Capt. He has been studying this speech. Eum. Who do you speak to, Sir? Mem. Why, where's the lady, The woman, the fair woman? 1 Capt. Who? Mem. The princess,Give me the princess. lord! Eum. Give you counsel rather A man unhandsome, undigested dough. 7'Tis for your spurs.] This is an allusion to Chivalry. Lord Lyttelton, speaking of Henry II. after he was knighted, says, He sought an occasion of exercising his new profes sion of arms, or (to speak in the language of that age) he desired to gain his spurs; but he could not possibly take the field, &c.' Life of Henry II. vol. ii. p. 178. And we find in Segar's Honor Civil and Military, p. 75, that, on the degradation of a knight in England, his gilt spurs were beaten from his heels, and his sword taken from him and broken. & R. Staggers.] The staggers, which is a kind of horses' apoplexy, is mentioned in All's Well that Ends Well. One species of it is a raging impatience, which makes the animal dash himself with destructive violence against posts or wails. See Johnson's notes on Shakespeare, vol. iv. p. 58. R. |