A TRAGEDY, This Play is by Gardiner, în the Commendatory Verses, ascribed to Fletcher alone. It ap pears to have been one of those pieces which were left unfinished by him, and completed by another writer. From the difference in the language and measure of the filth act from the other parts of this performance, we imagine that Fletcher had no concern in the conclusion of it. As Shirley is said to have sometimes assisted our Author, possibly his unfinished pieces fell into that writer's hands, and therefore we may impute the alterations to him. The Lovers' Progress was first printed in the folio of 1647; and has not been acted for many years past. The Lovers' Progress.] Progress, in this title, signifies Pilgrimage. PROLOGUE. a new A STORY, and a known one, long since writ, Demanding, and receiving too the pay He being ambitious that it should be known For a new poem, you may find it due, own. What's good was Fletcher's, and what ill his own.] This passage is a flaming contradiction to an assertion of the Bookseller, in his preface to the edition of 1647, which the reader will see in the introductory note upon The Coxcomb, and thither I reter him for what I have said upon that occasion. Sympsan. This passage is not, in our opinion, any contradiction at all to the Bookseller's assertion. See our remark at the beginning of The Coxcomb. Leon. I understand you; Clarinda's still perverse. ACT I. Malf. She's worse; obdurate, Flinty, relentless; my love-passion's jcer'd at, My presents scorn'd! Leon. 'Tis strange, a waiting-woman, In her condition, apt to yield, should hold out, A man of your place, reverend beard and Besieging her. [shape, Malf. You might add too, my wealth, Which she contemns; five hundred crowns per annum (For which I've ventur'd hard, my conscience knows it) Not thought upon, tho' offer'd for a jointure; This chain 3, which my lord's peasants worship, flouted; [at, My solemu hum's and ha's, the servants quake No rhetorick with her; ev'ry hour she hangs Malf. Too well; that makes her proud. This beauteous lady (I may stile her so, If that you make the least doubt otherwise. Malf. 'Pray you stay, sir! You are my friend; yet, as the proverb says, When love puts in, friendship is gone: Suppose You should yourself affect her? Leon. Do you think I'll commit incest! for it is no less, [sir. She being my cousin-german. Fare you well, Malf. I had forgot that; for this once, forgive me. Only, to case the throbbing of my heart, (For I do feel strange pangs) instruct me what You will say for me. Leon. First, I'll tell her that She hath so far besotted you, that you have Almost forgot to cast account. [ard, Leon. That, of a wise and provident stew Malf. Mere truth, sir. You're turn'd stark ass. 3 This chain.] Mr. Steevens observes, that stewards anciently wore a chain, as a mark of superiority over other servants; in proof of which he cites the following authorities: Dost thou think I shal! become the steward's chair? Will not these slender haunches shew well in a chain?' Martial Maid. Nash, in his piece entitled Have with You to Saffron Walden, 1559, taxes Gabriel Harvey with having stolen a nobleman's steward's chain, at his lord's installing at Windsor. So in Middleton's Mad World, my Masters, 1608: Gag that gaping rascal, though he be my grandsire's chief gentleman in the chain of gold.' See Notes on Twelfth Night, R. Malf. As I do when I find Their print i' th' snow. Leon. A loving fool; I know it, [related By your bloodless frosty lips. Then, having How much you suffer for her, and how well You do deserve it Malf. How! to suffer? To have your love return'd Mulf. That's good; I thank you. Leon. I will deliver her an inventory Of your good parts; as this, your precious [reaching Dropping affection; your high forehead, Almost to th' crown of your head; your slender waist, nose, [ing And a back not like a thresher's, but a bendAnd court-like back, and so forth, for your body. But when I touch your mind, (for that must take her, fit, Since your outside promises little) I'll enlarge Tho' ne'er so narrow; as, your arts to thrive, Your composition with the cook and butler For the coney-skins and chippings; and half a share With all the under-officers o' th' house, Malf. As I will be. Leon. As you shall, so I'll promise.- As playing on a cittern, or a Jew's trump- Then singing her asleep with curious catches Malf. Something giv'n that way: [reason Yet works seldom thrive; and the main my The poets urge for't is, because I am not As poor as they are. Leon. Very likely. Fetch her, While I am in the vein. Malf. Tis an apt time, My lady being at her prayers. Leon. Let her pray on. Nay, go; and if, upon my intercession, She do you not some favour, I'll disclaim her. I'll ruminate on't the while. Malf. A hundred crowns Is your reward. Leon. Without 'em-Nay, no trifling. [Exit Malf. That this dull clod of ignorance should know How to get money, yet want eyes to see How grosly he's abus'd, and wrought upon! 4 Malf. As I will be. Leon. As you shall, so I'll promise.] To restore lost puns has been an office, that critics have been laughed at, rather than praised for: but the original, be it bad or good, ought to be restored; and therefore we should not drop a conundrum here intended. Leon should answer, 'Ass you shall, so I'll promise.' ie. I'll promise you shall be made an ass of. Seward. Ciuri. Why, madam, under pardon, but zany brave Cleander, Clari. No, dear madam; and Cal. Did not mine honour Clari. 'Tis true; but yet [sence Your rigour to command him from your preArgu'd but small compassion; the groves Witness his grievous sufferings; your fair Ev'n in his least perfections,] i. e. but faintly imitate his virtues. The old Zany was a mimick or buffoon. 6 Upon the rind of ev'ry gentle poplar, And amorous myrtle, (trees to Venus sacred.)] Our poet has either committed an oversight, in making the poplar and the myrtle both sacred to Venus, or if he had any authority for so doing, I don't know it at present: 'Tis true, as the poplar delights in moisture, and grows upon the banks of rivers, and has leaves with dark and white sides, it may be a pretty symbol of the unlimited command of that powerful goddess, throughout the three allotinents of Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto. But, notwithstanding this, I am inclined to think that the reading and pointing was originally thus: of ev'ry gentle poplar, And amorous myrtle tree, to Venus sacred.' By changing the number, and altering the comma, we affix the epithet sacred' solely to the myrtle, and take away the confusion, which before subsisted, of appropriating two trees to one deity, when in reality the case was very far otherwise, as any one knows who is the least versed in the Classicks. Sympson We believe the old reading genuine, and that it ought to be followed. We do not, indeed, recollect that there is any authority for making the poplar, as well as the myrtle, sacred to Venus; but think the Poets here meant it. Yet I could wish the cause had concern'd others, I might have met his sorrows with more pity; She pleases to elect. See all things ready [most! That, where we are most su'd to, we must fly But we are tied to grow alone. Oh, honour, Thou hard law to our lives, chain to our freedoms! He that invented thee had many curses. [Exit. Enter Cleander, Lidian, and Clarangè. Cle. How insupportable the difference Of dear friends is, the sorrow that I feel For my Lisander's absence (one that stamps A reverend print on friendship) does assure You're rivals for a lady. a fair lady; '[me. Aud, in the acquisition of her favours, Hazard the cutting of that gordian knot From your first childhood to this present hour, By all the ties of love and amity fasten'd. I am blest in a wife (Heav'n make me thankInferior to none, sans pride I speak it; [ful!) Yet if I were a frecan, aud could purchase At any rate the certainty to enjoy Lisander's conversation while I liv'd, (Forgive me, my Calista, and the sex!) I never would seek change. Lid. My lord and brother, [worth I dare not blame your choice, Lisander's Malf. The rich heir is come, sir. Malf. Yes, sir; and makes choice, To win the prize, and your despair to lose Lid, No, sir; I am arm'd. Clara. I confident of my interest. When you've endur'd the test. Enter Calista, Olinda, and Clarinda.' [higher Untied? You promis'd that I should grow In doing you service. Clari. Fallou, or you lose me! [Exit Malf. Cle. Nay, take your place; no Paris now sits judge On the contending goddesses: You are The deity that must make curst, or happy, One of your languishing servants. Olin. I thus look With equal eyes on both; either deserves that The sweetness of his manners, youth, and Nay, should I add a princess of the blood, Enjoy but one, |