Act 1. Scene 1.3 For this man's taking up a common wench it may use [ship, Din. Thou'rt of a fine religion; Cler. Too well, sir, and remember name [sick, Your slave-like services; your morning muYour walking three hours in the rain at midnight [at, To see her at her window, soinetimes laugh'd Sometimes admitted, and vouchsaf'd to kiss Her glove, her skirt, nay, I have heard, her slippers; [sooth. [me: How then you trimmph'd! Here was love for- Cler. As you deserv'd ; For he that makes a goddess of a puppet; Din. This day, friend, For thou art so Cler. I am no flatterer. [to Din. This proud ingrateful she is married Cler. I know him; he has been Din. Yet, but now Cler. I then came from confession; nance, To be a peaceable man, and to talk like one'; Cier. Were thy tongue a cannon, Enter Vertaign, Champernel, Lamira, Nurse, AN EPITHALAMION SONG AT THE WEDDING. There yet remain so much of honest blood Mr. Steevens hath collected the following examples of the use of this word, in a note at the latter end of the second act of The Tempest. In Fletcher's Woman-Hater: "Humble herself in an old stamel petticoat." So, in Middleton's Masque of The World Toss'd at Tennis: So, in The Return from Parnassus, 1606, "Some stamel weaver, or some butcher's son." Again, in The Turk torn'd Christian, 1612, "That fellow in the stammel hose is one of them." And Mr. Tollet observes, that stammel colour is a light-red colour. The light-pale stamme! is mentioned in Ph. Holland's Translation of Pliny's Nat. Hist. and is also there styled the light-red and fresh lusty gallant, p. 260 and 261. See also Stammtel in Ainsworth's Dictionary.' R. Carock'd.] This word is derived from the French carosse, a coach. In The Custom of the Country, Hypolita says, "Make ready my carock," Вя Have one foot in the grave, yet study profit, nours, At all parts equal yours, my fame as fair, His whole estate in likelihood to descend men Their countrymen; but you, a gentleman, Cler. This was spoke home indeed. tell you, That this harsh language was deliver'd to Din. At your pleasure. Cler. Proceed in your design; let me alone To answer him, or any man. Verdone. You presume Too much upon your name, but may be cozen'd. Din. But for you, most unmindful of my (For now Imay upbraid you, and with honour, nature Gave with a liberal hand most excellent form; sure, Forgetting that unjust commands of parents vants : Yet, but consider how this wealth was pur- Din. But from whom? Remember that, and how! You'll come indeed "Was my share in another; these fair jewels, The wines you drink are guilty too; for this, These suckets5 break as many more: In brief, By lawless force, and you but revel in [ers. Din. Lastly, those joys, those best of joys, Freely bestows on such that come to tie Champ. Thou'rt a villain, A base, malicious slanderer! Din. No, he's not worth a blow. [room In some close vault, that only would yield Vert. Pray you have patience. Lam. This day I am to be your sovereign ; Let me command you. Champ. I am lost with rage, And know not what I am myself, nor you. With brave triumphant spoils) censure our Suckets.] i. e. Banqueting dishes. Like oil pour'd out on't, made it burn anew.] I would choose to read, "like oil pour'd on it;" but I believe the old reading may give the same idea. The metaphor is a little difficult bere; the blood both quenches and makes the fire burn anew; but quenches, here, must only signify to abate the fire for a moment, and then the whole is clear. Seward. To get or wealth or honour in yourselves) He that thro' all these dreadful passages Pursu'd and overtook them, unaffrighted, Deserves reward, and not to have it styl'd By the base name of theft. Din. This is the courtship That you must look for, madam. Cler. 'Twill do well, [night with. When nothing can be done, to spend the Your tongue is sound, good lord; and I could wish, For this young lady's sake, this leg, this arm, And there is something else, I will not name, (Tho' 'tis the only thing that must content Had the same vigour. [her,) Champ. You shall buy these scoffs [anger! With your best blood! Help me once, noble Nay, stir not; I alone must right myself, And with one leg transport me, to correct These scandalous praters! Oh, that noble wounds [Falls. Should hinder just revenge! D'ye jeer me too? I got these, not as you do your diseases, In brothels, or with riotous abuse Of wine in taverns; I have one leg shot, One arm disabled, and am honour'd more By losing them, as I did, in the face Of a brave enemy, than if they were [only, As when I put to sea. You are Frenchmen In that you have been laid, and cur'd. Go to! You mock my leg, but every bone about you Makes you good almanack-makers, to foretell What weather we shall have. may Din. Put up your sword. [be useful; What a fine virtue 'tis in a young lady Cler. Or hire a surgeon To teach her to roll up your broken limbs. [scent You that have stood all dangers, of all kinds, to Yield to a rival's scoff? Lum. Shed tears upon [men. Your wedding-day? This is unmanly, gentleChamp. They're tears of anger. Oh, that I should live To play the woman thus! All-pow'rful Heav'n, Restore me, but one hour, that strength again That I had once, to chastise in these men Their follies and ill manners; and that done, When you please, I'll yield up the fort of life, And do it gladly. Cler. We ha' the better of him, We ha' made him cry. Verdone. You shall have satisfaction : And I will do it nobly, or disclaim me. Beaup. I say no more; you have a brother, sister: This is your wedding-day, we're in the street, And howsoever they forget their honour, 'Tis fit I lose not mine, by their example. Vert. If there be laws in Paris, look to This insolent affront. [answer Cler. You that live by them, Study 'em, for Heaven's sake! For my part, I know not, [else Nor care not, what they are. Is there aught That you would say? Din. Nothing; I have my ends. Lamira weeps; I've said too much, I fear! So dearly once I lov'd her, that I cannot Endure to see her tears. Cousin Beaupre! [Exeunt Din, and Cler, Champ. See you perform it, And do it like my nephew. Verdone. If I fail in't, Ne'er know me more. Champ. Repent not [find What thou hast done, my life; thou shalt not I am decrepid in my love and service, I will be young, and constant; and believe me (For thou shalt find it true, in scorn of all The scandals these rude men have thrown upon me) [ardour, I'll meet thy pleasures with a young man's And in all circumstances of a husband Perform my parts. Lam Good sir, I am your servant; And 'tis too late now, if I did repent, (Which, as I am a virgin yet, I do not) To undo the knot, that by the church is tied, Only I would beseech you, as you have A good opinion of me and my virtues, For so you've pleas'd to style my innocent weakness, [me, That what hath pass'd between Dinant and Or what now in your hearing he hath spoken, Beget not doubts or fears. Champ. I apprehend you; You think I will be jealous: As I live, thou wilt, Feast whom thou wilt, as often as thou wilt; For I will have no other guards upon thee Than thine own thoughts. Lum. I'll use this liberty With moderation, sir. Beaup. I am resolv'd. Steal off; I'll follow you. Champ. Come, sir, you droop: Till you find cause, which I shall never give, Dislike not of your son-in-law. Vert. Sir, you teach me The language I should use: I am most happy In being so near you. [Exe. Verdone and Beau. Lam. Oh, my fears! Good Nurse, Follow my brother unobserv'd, and learn Which way he takes. Nurse. I will be careful, madam. [Exit. Champ. Between us compliments are superfluous. On, gentlemen! Th' affront we have met here [Exeunt. Enter Dinant and Cleremont. Cler. We shall have sport, ne'er fear't. Din. What sport, I prithee? [1 long for't; Cler. Why, we must fight; I know it, and It was apparent in the fiery eye Of young Verdone; Beaupre look'd pale and shook too, Familiar signs of anger. They're both brave fellows, [counter Tried and approv'd, and I am proud to enWith men, from whom no honour can be lost; They will play up to a man, and set him off. Whene'er I go to th' field, Heav'n keep me from The meeting of an unflesh'd youth or coward! Cler. Why, 'tis no more Than meeting of a dozen friends at supper, And drinking hard; mischief comes there unlook'd for, I'm sure as sudden, and strikes home as often; For this we are prepar'd. Din. Lamira loves Her brother Beaupre dearly, Cler. What of that? [what Din. And should he call me to account for But now I spake, (nor can I with mine honour Recant my words) that little hope is left me, E'er to enjoy what (next to leav'n) I long for, Is taken from me. Cler. Why, what can you hope for, She being now married? Din. Oh, my Cluremont! To you all secrets of my heart lie open, I am a And for the greater part we are born courtiers; She is a woman, and however yet No heat of service had the power to melt Her frozen chastity, time and opportunity May work her to my ends; I confess ill ones, And yet I must pursue 'em. Now her marIn probability, will no way hurt, [riage, But rather help me. Cler. Sits the wind there? Pray you tell me How far off dwells your love from last? Din. Too near; But prithee chide me not. Cler. Not 1; go on, boy! I've faults myself, and will not reprehend I think there is no nation under heav'n A crime I am not free from. For her mar riage, I do esteem it (and most bachelors are Cler. No more of this. Judge now wheThe gift of prophecy. [ther I have Enter Beaupre and Verdone. Brau. Monsicur Dinant, I'm glad to find you, sir. To be known better to you. Cler. My desires Embrace your wishes, sir. Beau. Sir, I have ever Esteem'd you truly noble, and profess I should have been most proud to've had the honour To call you brother, but my father's pleasure Denied that happiness. I know, no man lives That can command his passions; and therefore fguagé Dare not condemn the late intemperate lanYe were pleas'd to use to my father and my sister: He's old, and she a woman; I most sorry My honour does compel me to entreat you To do me the favour, with your sword, to A mile without the city. Emeet me Din. You much honour me In the demand; I'll gladly wait upon you. Beau. Oh, sir, you teach me what to say. The time? Din. With the next sun, if you think fit. Beau. The place? [the city, Din. Near to the vineyard, eastward from Beau. I like it well. This gentleman, if you please, Will keep me company. Cler. That is agreed on ; And in my friend's behalf I will attend him, [Exeunt Beaupre and Verdone. I think there is no nation under heaven That cut their enemies' throats with compli ment", And such fine tricks, as we do. If you have Any few prayers to say, this night you may Call 'em to mind, and use 'em; for myself, As I have little to lose, my care is less; That cut their enemies' throats with compliment, And such fine tricks, as we do.] Moliere has a scene built upon the politeness of the French duellers, which is extremely like this. I mention it not as supposing that excellent writer to have copied from our Authors; but to show how admirably the latter drew their charac ters; since in the portraits of Frenchmen, they hit the very same masterly strokes with the greatest master of French Comedy. Seward, So, till to-morrow morning I bequeath you To your devotions; and those paid, but use That noble courage I have seen, and we Shall fight, as in a castle. Din. Thou'rt all honour; Thy resolution would steel a coward, And I most fortunate in such a friend. All tenderness and nice respect of woman Be now far from me! Reputation, take A full possession of my heart, and prove Honour the first place holds, the second love! [Excit SCENE I. Enter Lamira and Charlotte.7 ACT II. Lam. SLEEPS my lord still, Charlotte? Char. Not to be wak'd. [ceive By your ladyship's cheerful looks, I well per- Lam. You're very bold. Char. Your creature, madam, and, when you are pleas'd, Sadness to me's a stranger. Your good pardon If I speak like a fool; I could have wish'd To have ta'en your place to-night, had bold Dinant, Your first and most obsequious servant, tasted Those delicates, which, by his lethargy, have cloy'd appears, As it Lam. No more! my Char. I'm silenc'd, madam. lord. Disguis'd, and if you have that power in hin As I presume you have, it is in To stay or alter him. you Lam. Have you learnt the place Where they are to encounter? Nurse. Yes, 'tis where [venth. The duke of Burgundy met Lewis the EleLam, Enough; I will reward thee liberally. [Exit Nurse, Go, bring him in.-Full dear I lov'd Dinant, While it was lawful; but those fires are quench'd, I being now another's. Truth, forgive me, But there has been a time, in which you would Receive this as a favour. Din. Hope was left then Of recompense. Lam. Why, I am still Lamira, And you Dinant, and 'tis yet in my power (I dare not say I'll put it into act) To reward your love and service. Din, There's some comfort. [fame, Lum. But think not that so low I prize my To give it up to any man that refuses Din. Name that danger (Be't of what horrid shape soever, lady) Which I will shrink at; only, at this instant, Be speedy in't. Lam. I'll put you to the trial: You shall not fight today, (d'you start at that?) Not with my brother. I have heard your difference; Mine is no Helen's beauty, to be purchas'd With blood, and so defended: If you look for 7 Enter Lamira and Charlotte.] I think it very clear, that this is the beginning of the second act for a whole night is past since the last scene, and the players seem to have divided the acts at the end of the next scene, only to make them of a more equal length. Seward, Though there is reason in what Mr. Seward says, and propriety in his variation (where fore we have adopted it), we are far from being clear that the old division was not Fletcher's. |