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jëars, and when they come home, they have « hid a little weerish lean face under a broad “ French hat, kept a terrible coil with the dust « in the street in their long cloaks of grey paper, « and spoken English strangely. Nought else “ have they profited by their travel, but to “ distinguish the true Bourdeaux grape, and “ know a cup of neat Gascoigne wine from “ wine of Orleans ; yea and peradventure this « also, to esteem of the p-x as a pimple, to

wear a velvet patch on their face, and walk « melancholy with their arms folded.

« From Spain what bringeth our traveller ?

A scull-crowned hat of the fashion of an old « deep porringer; a diminutive alderman's" ruff « with short strings, like the droppings of a “man's nose; a close-bellied doublet coming “ down with a peake behind as far as the crup“per, and cut off before by the breast-bone like “ a partlet or neckercher; a wide pair of gas“coynes, which ungathered would make a cou

ple of women's riding-kirtles; huge hangers, " that have half a cow-hide in them; a rapier " that is lineally descended from half a dozen “ dukes at the leaft: Let his cloak be as long " or as short as you will; if long, it is faced “ with Turkey grogeran ravelled ; if short, it Whath a cape like a calf's tongue, and is not so

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deep in his whole length, nor so much cloth « in it I will justify as only the standing cape of « a Dutchman's cloak. I have not yet touched

all, for he hath in either shoe as much taffaty “ for his tyings, as would serve for an ancient; « which serveth him (if you would have the

mystery of it) of the own accord for a shoe“rag. If you talk with him, he makes a dish“ cloth of his own country in comparison of « Spain; but if

but if you urge him particularly where “ in it exceeds, he can give no instance, but in “ Spain they have better bread than any we “ have; when (poor hungry flaves !) they may “ crumble it into water well enough and inake “misons with it, for they have not a good morsel of meat, except it be falt pilchers, to eat “ with it, all the year long; and, which is more,

they are poor beggars, and lie in foul straw “ every night.

“ Italy, the paradise of the earth, and the epi« cure's heaven, how doth it form our young " master? It makes him to kiss his hand like an

ape, cringe his neck like a starveling, and play “at Hey-pass-repass-come-aloft, when he falutes a

From thence he brings the art of atheism, the art of epicurizing, the art of whoring, « the art of poisoning, the art of sodomitry: “ The only probable good thing they have to

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keep us from utterly condemning it, is, that " it maketh a man an excellent courtier, a curi"ous carpet-knight ; which is by interpretation " a fine clofe lecher, a glorious hypocrite: It is

now a privy note amongst the better fort of

men, when they would fet a singular mark or « brand on a notorious villain, to say he hath « been in Italy.”

I hope I need not observe that these descriptions are not here quoted for the truth they contain, but for the curiosity of them. Thomas Nashe was the bittereft satirist and controverfialift of the age he lived in.

N° LXVI.

I"

WAS some nights ago much entertained

with an excellent representation of Mr. Congreve's comedy of The Double Dealer. When I reflected upon the youth of the author and the merit of the play, I acknowledged the truth of what the late Dr. Samuel Johnson says in his life of this poet, that amongst all the efforts of early genius, which literary history records, I doubt whether any one can be produced that more sur

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passes the common limits of rature than the plays of Congreve.

The author of this comedy in his dedication informs us, that he designed the moral first, and to that moral invented the fable ; and does not know that he has borrowed one hint of it any where. -I made the plat, says he, as strong as I could; because it was fingle; and I made it single because I would avoid confusion, and was resolved to preserve the three unities of the draina. As it is impossible not to give full credit to this assertion, I must consider the resemblance which many circumstances in The Double Dealer bear to those in a comedy of Beaumont and Fletcher, intitled Cupid's Revenge, as a casual coincidence; and I think the learned biographer above quoted had good reason to pronounce of Congrève, that he is an original writer; who borrowed neither the models of his plot, nor the manner of his dialogue.

Mellafont, the nephew and heir of Lord. Touchwood, being engaged to Cynthia, daughter of Sir Paul Pliant, the traversing this match forms the object of the plot, on which this comedy of The Double Dealer is constructed; the intrigue consists in the various artifices employed by Lady Touchwood and her agents for that purpose.

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That the object is (as the author himself ftates it to be) fingly this, will appear upon confidering, that, although the ruin of Mellafont's fortune is for a time effected by these contrivances, that are employed for traversing his marriage, yet it is rather a measure of necessity and self-defence in Lady Touchwood, than of original design; it springs from the artifice of incident, and belongs more properly to the intrigue, than to the object of the plot.

The making or obstructing marriages is the common hinge, on which most comic fables are contrived to turn, but in this match of Mellafont's, which the author has taken for the ground-work of his plot, I must observe that it would have been better to have given more interest to an event, which he has made the main object of the play: He has taken little pains to recommend the parties to his spectators, or to paint their mutual attachment with any warmth of colouring. Who will feel any concern whether Mellafont marries Cynthia or not, if they themselves appear indifferent on the occasion, and upon the eve of their nuptials converse in the following straina

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