save me, Only till thou hadst studied out a way Arb. Thou know'st the evils thou hast done Dost thou remember all those witching letters Dost thou remember this? so that I doted Gob. This is true. [know'st, Arb. Is it? and, when I was return'd, thou Thou didst pursue it, 'till thou wound'st me in To such a strange and unbeliev'd affection, As good men cannot think on. Gob. This I grant; I think, I was the cause. Arb. Wert thou? Nay, more, I think, thou meant'st it. Gob. Sir, I hate a lye: As I love Heav'n and honesty, I did; Arb. Be thine own sad judge; If kill me Arb. I will not stay then. Gob. Know-you kill your father. Gob. You kill your father. [lye, Arb. My father? Though I know it for a Made out of fear, to save thy stained life, The very rev'rence of the word comes cross me, And ties mine arm down. Gob. I will tell you that shall heighten you I am thy father; I charge thee hear me. As 'tis most false, and that I should be found Of lawless lust, I should no more admire Enter Arane. Ara. Turn thee about; I come to speak to thee, thou wicked man! Arb. I will turn to thee; Hear me, thou strumpet! I have blotted out Why dost thou keep my daughter in a prison? 4 Draw near, thou guilty man.] The subsequent scenes, to the end of the play, have been, through the whole course of the impressions, delivered down to us as prose; but I have restored them to their strict metre and versification: And through my whole edition (where the interpolations, or castrations, by the stage do not obstruct me in it, I shall endeavour to do our authors the same justice. Mr. Theobald. This is only a continuation of the daring falsehood mentioned in p. 50; for, in the old copies, we find the lines run exactly the same as in Mr. Theobald's edition, except in two or three very trifling instances. It is remarkable, too, that that gentleman has introduced fewer of his arbitrary variations in this scene, than in almost any other part of the work. VOL. I. If thou contemn'st me, this will ask an anAnd have it. [swer, Ara. Help me, gentle Gobrias. In doing ill, yet at the punishment Ara. I will; to what? Arb. To such a thing, as, if it be a truth, Think what a creature thou hast made thyself, That didst not shame to do what I must blush Only to ask thee. Tell me who I am, Whose son I am, without all circumstance; Be thou as hasty as my sword will be, If thou refusest. Ara. Why, you are his son. Arb. His son? Swear, swear, thou worse Ara. By all that's good, you are. That ever was known bad! Now is the cause Thy husband, and the land! Adulterous witch! I know now why thou wouldst have poison'd As use to pay lust, recompence thy deed! Gob. You do not know why you curse thus. You are a pair of vipers; and behold As brave as mine, for they have more descents; Ara. You spend your rage and words in vain, My breath, and die. Gob. Why, but you are no bastard. Ara. Nor child of mine. Arb. Still you go on In wonders to me. Gob. Pray you, be more patient; I may bring comfort to you. Arb. I will kneel, And hear with the obedience of a child. away Good father, speak! I do acknowledge you, So you bring comfort. Gob. First know, our last king, your supposed father, Was old and feeble when he married her, And almost all the land, as she, past hope Arb. Therefore she took leave To play the whore, because the king was old: Is this the comfort? Ara. What will you find out To give me satisfaction, when you find [me How you have injur'd me? Let fire consume If ever I were whore! Gob. Forbear these starts, Or I will leave you wedded to despair, Arb. Bring it out, good father. Gob. Our king, I say, was old, and this The truth is, she was watch'd so narrowly, And had so slender opportunities, [ning She hardly could have been: But yet her cunFound out this way; she feign'd herself with child, [land, And posts were sent in haste throughout the And God was humbly thank'd in ev'ry church, That so had bless'd the queen; and prayers were made For her safe going and delivery. She feign'd now to grow bigger; and perceiv'd No noise at all; but pray you to the point, Gob. Now when the time was full She was deliver'd of you. You grew up, Truly with child, indeed, of the fair princess Madness, or any thing rather than truth. Arb. And have you made an end now? Is this all? If not, I will be still till I be aged, Till all my hairs be silver. Gob. This is all. Arb. And is it true, say you too, madam? Ara. But can you prove this? Why, I will have 'em all that know it rack'd Enter Bessus, gentlmen, Mardonius, Mardonius, the best news! Nay, draw no What fury's this? Gol. Believe me, 'tis no fury; All that he says is truth. [men? Mar. "Tis very strange. Arl. Why do you keep your hats off, gentleIs it to me? I swear, it must not be; Nay, trust me, in good faith, it must not be! I cannot now command you; but I pray you, For the respect you bare me when you took Me for your king, each man clap on his hat At my desire. Mar. We will. You are not found So mean a man, but that you may be cover'd As well as we; may you not? Arb. Oh, not here! Mar. Sir, here's Lygones, the agent for the Armenian state. Arb. Where is he? I know your business, good Lygones. Lyg. We must have our king again, and will. Arb. I knew that was your business: You Your king again; and have him so again, Lyg. 'Tis Spaconia. [Exit two gentlemen. Arb. Ay, ay, Spaconia. Lyg. She is my daughter. Arb. She is so. I could now tell any thing I never heard. Your king shall go so home, As never man went. Mar. Shall he go on's head? Arb. He shall have chariots easier than air, That I will have invented; and ne'er think He shall pay any ransom! And thyself, That art the messenger, shall ride before him On a horse cut out of an entire diamond, That shall be made to go with golden wheels, I know not how yet. Lyg. Why, I shall be made For ever! They bely'd this king with us, Arb. And then, thy daughter; She shall have some strange thing; we'll have the kingdom Sold utterly, and put into a toy, Which she shall wear about her carelessly, Enter Panthea and 1 gentleman. The following observations are made by Mr. Seward, respecting this Play. Mr. Rymer flings the most virulent of all his invectives against Othello and Arbaces, falsly deeming all the faults of those characters to be so many charges against the Poets; whereas their intent was not to paint perfection but human nature, to blend the virtues and vices together, so that both may spring from the same temper, and, like handsome and ill-favoured children, both still bear a resemblance to their sire. To do this well is one of the highest efforts of poetry. Arbaces, like his great pattern Achilles, has virtues and vices in the extreme. His violence makes us expect some dreadful effect, and it therefore soon hurries him into an attempt to commit incest. He is to raise terror and anger, not pity and love; and • Mr. Rymer having the same choler in his temper, ridiculously took fire, and furiously attacked his own shadow.' The savage jealousy of the Moor is so finely delineated, that the tragedy of Othello, notwithstanding some slight defects in the construction of the fable, must for ever excite the admiration of all true lovers of dramatic poetry. The spleen of Rymer is almost as ineffectually vented on this Tragedy of our Authors: Yet Candor and Justice oblige us to confess, that the sudden transition of passions in the character of Arbaces sometimes borders on the ridiculous. The picture is, however, in the main, faithfully copied from nature, with many touches of peculiar excellence, particularly the agitations of Arbaces, during his conflict with a supposed incestuous passion. His reverential fear of Mardonius, and his contempt of Bessus, while he is severally soliciting them, are finely imagined, and as finely executed. The Arbaces of our Authors is evidently the model on which Lee formed his Alexander, as well as his Clytus on Mardonius. It would, perhaps, require a nice hand to make this play thoroughly relished by a modern audience; yet it most certainly abounds with the highest dramatic excellencies, and deserves an eminent rank in the list of theatrical productions. A COMEDY. The Commendatory Verses by Waller and Stanley speak of Fletcher as the Author of this Comedy; in the titles of the old copies we find the names of both our Authors, and it is supposed to have been their joint production. We do not find that it was ever altered; nor has it been performed in the course of many years past; though, in the lifetime of Mrs. Oldfield, who acted the Lady, it used to be frequently represented. At a gulp, without trumpets.] The allusion is here either to the drinking of healths at our public halls and city entertainments; or else to a passage in the Acharnenses of Aristophanes, upon which the old Scholiast informs us, that it was a custom in Athens, at certain of their feasts, to challenge one another to drink by sound of trumpet. Mr. Theobald. 2 And mine is to persuade, &c.] The majority of the old quarto's thus divide this speech: or to leave the land. Yo. Lo. Make the boat stay: I fear I shall, &c. which is certainly erroneous. The modern editions make no division, but give the whole to the Elder Loveless; which seems equally improper. We apprehend the original reading to have been, or to leave the land. Yo. Lo. Make the boat stay. El. Lo. I fear I shall begin, &c. i. e. After the Elder Lovelace declares, that, if he cannot persuade the Lady to remit the duty she had imposed on him in her passion, he must undergo the disagreeable task of quitting the land; the Younger jocularly replies, Make the boat stay;' be not hasty, postpone your departure. The Elder then rejoins, I fear I shall begin my journey this night." |