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Plays,' published in 1814. In his introductory remarks, Mr. Dilke says-" With how much judgment Dekker has varied the story, as it existed in his time, I cannot say, not having been able to procure a copy of it: had I succeeded in my endeavours, I intended to have given a very full extract, if not the whole."

It is our intention to give the story of Fortunatus,' as it is told in Dekker's play, by large extracts from this very remarkable production. These will, in many cases, tell the story with far more effect than our own diluted prose. But we have a curious evidence of the universality of these old Fables, in two little German books, that form part of a Series, entitled 'Volksbücher,' printed at Leipsic; of which the 22nd Number contains The Story of Fortunatus, with his Luck-purse and his Wishing-cap,' and No. 23, 'The Story of Fortunatus's Sons, in which the subject of the Luck-purse and the Wishing-cap is further set forth. These two Tracts occupy 160 pages. Whether the story came from Germany to England, or went from England to Germany, is not for us to conjecture. It is sufficient to state, that in these two 'People's-Books' we have, with slight variations, chiefly of localities, the story of Fortunatus and his Sons, as told by Dekker. The names of the characters are the same-the main incidents are the same. Dekker, however, with the true dramatic feeling, does not take up the history of Fortunatus from the beginning of his career. The German People'sBook, and the English Penny Chap-Book, exhibit to us his parentage and education, with his early adventures, before he became the possessor of miraculous advantages. The introductory part of the German story is very long, occupying between thirty and forty pages. We shall condense it into a page or so, as an introduction to Dekker.

In the town of Famagusta, in the island of Cyprus, there lived a noble citizen of the name of Theodore. Having inherited great wealth, his only care was how best to enjoy the fruit of his ancestors' industry, and he squandered his money on every kind of extravagance and ostentation. His friends, hoping to turn him from this riotous life, persuaded him to marry; and for some time their expectations appeared likely to be realized. But soon after the birth of a son, Fortunatus, his former habits resumed their empire over him, and he soon carried his extravagance so far, that in his old age he was reduced to the utmost penury. His son Fortunatus, having reached the age of eighteen, and seeing that he only added to his father's distress, determined to make his own way in the world. Wandering one day on the sea shore, thinking how he could relieve his parents of the burden of his support, he encountered the Earl of Flanders, who was returning to his dominions from a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Fortunatus offered himself as servant to this prince, and being accepted by him, followed his new master into Flanders.

Soon after his return, the Earl married a daughter of the Duke of Cleve, and in honour of the wedding, were held all kinds of sports and tournaments, in which Fortunatus greatly distinguished himself. He

daily rose more and more in favour with his master, and with the assembled lords and ladies, which so provoked the jealousy of his fellowservants, that they formed a plot to drive him from the court. An old knave, named Rupert, undertook to bring this about; and so alarmed Fortunatus, by means of an artfully contrived story, that he induced him to fly secretly from his master, and escape into England.

In London, Fortunatus met with some fellow-countrymen, who led him into evil courses, and made him waste the little he possessed in dissolute living. Being reduced to the greatest distress, he entered the service of a Venetian merchant, named Geronimo Roberto.

There was at this time in London a young Florentine, named Andreas, who having been sent by his father to negotiate some business matters, squandered the money intrusted to him for that purpose, and being greatly involved, tried to retrieve his fortune by unlawful means. After attempting various things, he happened to hear that the king was about to send to his sister, the Duchess of Burgundy, a splendid set of diamonds. Under pretence of being a jeweller, and having some precious stones to dispose of, Andreas allured the nobleman who had charge of these ornaments, to the house of Roberto, where he (the Florentine) then lodged, and there murdered him. Taking the signet-ring from the finger of his victim, he carried it to the wife of the murdered man, and said that her husband had sent him for the jewels; they were, however, not to be found. Andreas escaped; but the body of the missing nobleman being at last discovered in the well of Roberto's house, the Venetian and all his servants were taken into custody, and sentenced to be hanged. When all the rest had suffered the execution of their sentence, Fortunatus, whose perfect ignorance of the whole affair had been solemnly attested in his last moments by Roberto's cook, was released; the judge advising him, however, to escape as soon as possible from England.

Fortunatus was not slow in following the judge's advice; he immediately crossed to France. Here he was forced to support himself by begging; till, wandering in this manner through Brittany, he lost himself in the depths of a forest, where he was almost famished to death, and in great danger from wild beasts. Having shot a bear, and frightened away the other animals who surrounded him, he lay down on the carcase of the dead beast, and fell asleep.

The Fortunatus of Dekker appears on the scene, "meanly attired," and after holding a dialogue with 'Echo,' falls asleep. The story thus proceeds:

a

Enter a GARDENER, a SMITH, a MONK, a SHEPHERD, all crowned: NYMPH with a Globe, another with Fortune's Wheel, then FORTUNE: after her four KINGS with broken Crowns and Sceptres, chained in Silver Gyves, and led by her. The first four come out singing; the four KINGS lie down at the Feet of FORTUNE, who treads on their Bodies as she ascends her Chair.

Fortune smiles; cry holyday!

Dimples on her cheeks do dwell;
Fortune frowns; cry welladay!
Her love is heaven, her hate is hell:
Since heaven and hell obey her power,
Tremble when her eyes do lour;

Since heaven and hell her power obey,
When she smiles, cry holyday.
Holyday with joy we cry,

And bend, and bend, and merrily,
Sing hymns to fortune's deity,
Sing hymns to fortune's deity.

All. Let us sing merrily, merrily, merrily,
With our song let heaven resound;

Fortune's hands our heads have crown'd,

Let us sing merrily, merrily, merrily.

1 King. Accursed queen of chance! what had we done, Who having sometimes like young Phaetons,

Rid in the burnish'd chariot of the sun,

And sometimes been thy minions, when thy fingers
Weav'd wanton love-nets in our curled hair,

And with sweet juggling kisses warm'd our cheeks,
Oh! how have we offended thy proud eyes,
That thus we should be spurn'd and trod upon,
Whilst those infected limbs of the sick world,
Are fixed by thee for stars, in that bright sphere,
Wherein our sun-like radiance did appear?

All the Kings. Accursed queen of chance! damn'd sorceress !
The rest. Most powerful queen of chance! dread sovereigness!
For. No more! curse on; your cries to me are music,

And fill the sacred roundure of mine ears

With tunes more sweet than moving of the spheres.

Curse on! on our celestial brows do sit

Unnumber'd smiles, which then leap from their throne,

When they see peasants dance, and monarchs groan.

Behold you not this globe, this golden bowl,

This toy called world, at our imperial feet?

This world is Fortune's ball wherewith she sports.
Sometimes I strike it up into the air,

And then create I emperors and kings;

Sometimes I spurn it, at which spurn crawls out
That wild beast multitude: curse on, you fools,
"Tis I that tumble princes from their thrones,
And gild false brows with glittering diadems;
"Tis I that tread on necks of conquerors,

And when like semi-gods they have been drawn
In ivory chariots to the capitol,

Circled about with wonder of all eyes,

The shouts of every tongue, love of all hearts;
Being swoln with their own greatness, I have prick'd
The bladder of their pride, and made them die,
As water bubbles [without memory:]

I thrust base cowards into honour's chair,
Whilst the true spirited soldier standeth by
Bare headed, and all bare; whilst at his scars
They scoff, that ne'er durst view the face of wars.
I set an idiot's cap on virtue's head,
Turn learning out of doors, clothe wit in rags,
And paint ten thousand images of loam
In gaudy silken colours: on the backs
Of mules and asses I make asses ride,
Only for sport to see the apish world
Worship such beasts with sound idolatry.
This Fortune does, and when all this is done,
She sits and smiles to hear some curse her name,
And some with adoration crown her fame.

Monk. True centre of this wide circumference,
Sacred commandress of the destinies,

Our tongue shall only sound thy excellence.

The rest. Thy excellence our tongues shall only sound. 2 King. Thou painted strumpet! that with honeyed smiles Openedst the gates of heaven, and criedst, come in ; Whose glories being seen, thou with one frown (In pride) lower than hell tumbledst us down. All kings. Even for ever will we ban thy name. For. How sweet your howlings relish in mine ears! Stand by! now rise; behold here lies a wretch; To vex your souls, this beggar I'll advance Beyond the sway of thought; take instruments, And let the raptures of choice harmony, Thorough the hollow windings of his ear,

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