Where sin is justice, lust and ignorance [This scene bears indubitable marks of Fletcher: the two which precede it give strong countenance to the tradition that Shakspeare had a hand in this Play. The same judgment may be formed of the death of Arcite, and some other passages, not here given. They have a luxuriance in them which strongly resembles Shakspeare's manner in those parts of his plays, where, the progress of the interest being subordinate, the poet was at leisure for description. I might fetch instances from Troilus and Timon. That Fletcher should have copied Shakspeare's manner through so many entire scenes (which is the theory of Mr. Steevens) is not very probable, that he could have done it with such facility is to me not certain. His ideas moved slow; his versification, though sweet, is tedious; it stops every moment; he lays line upon line, making up one after the other, adding image to image so deliberately that we see where they join: Shakspeare mingles every thing, he runs line into line, embarrasses sentences and metaphors; before one idea has burst its shell, another is hatched and clamorous for disclosure. If Fletcher wrote some scenes in imitation, why did he stop? or shall we say that Shakspeare wrote the other scenes in imitation of Fletcher? that he gave Shakspeare a curb and a bridle, and that Shakspeare gave him a pair of spurs: as Blackmore and Lucan are brought in exchanging gifts in the Battle of the Books?] THE CITY MADAM: A COMEDY, BY PHILIP MASSINGER. LUKE, from a state of indigence and dependence is suddenly raised into immense affluence by a deed of gift of the estates of his brother SIR JOHN FRUGAL, a merchant, retired from the world. He enters, from taking a survey of his new riches. Luke. 'Twas no fantastic object, but a truth; A real truth, no dream. I did not slumber; [To the key. Compared with thee, are shadows; thou the substance My brother made thy place of rest his bosom, To draw in more. The extravagance of the City Madams aping court fashions reprehended. LUKE, having come into the possession of his brother SIR JOHN FRUGAL'S estates. Lady, wife to SIR JOHN FRUGAL, and two daughters, in homely attire. Luke. Save you, sister I now dare style you so. You were before Too glorious to be look'd on: now you appear Such things As they were born and bred there. Why should you And pedigrees of long descent give warrant [ape For their superfluous bravery? 'twas monstrous. Lady. Is this spoken In scorn? Luke. Fie, no; with judgment. I make good Lady. We acknowledge We have deserved ill from you', yet despair not, Luke. "Tis my purpose. Lady. And not make us ridiculous. Luke. Admired rather, As fair examples for our proud city dames Your father was An honest country farmer, Goodman Humble, By his neighbours ne'er call'd master. Did your pride A velvet hood, rich borders, and sometimes A dainty miniver cap, a silver pin Headed with a pearl worth threepence; and thus far It being for the city's honour that There should be distinction between The wife of a patrician and a plebeian.- And dignity of London's blessings grew By which you were raised (my brother's fond indulgence In his dependent state they had treated him very cruelly: they are now dependent on him. What a strange, nay, monstrous metamorphosis follow'd! No English workman then could please your fancy; To buz into your ears, what shape this countess (The reverend hood cast off) your borrow'd hair, And roses worth a family. You were served Stirr'd not a foot without a coach; and going Your pomp, you were tickled when the beggars cried An absolute princess (since they have no more), To cover the brat's cradle; you in state, Lady. No more, I pray you. Luke. Of this be sure you shall not. I'll cut off Or in your daughters; and reduce you to 1 Of your base usage of me; but to fright [This bitter satire against the city women for aping the fashions of the court ladies must have been peculiarly gratifying to the females of the Herbert family and the rest of Massinger's patrons and patronesses.] A NEW WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS: A COMEDY, OVERREACH, (a cruel extortioner) treats about marrying his daughter with LORD LOVELL. Over. To my wish we are private. I come not to make offer with my daughter With her, my lord, comes to you; nor shall One motive to induce you to believe I live too long, since every year I'll add you have Something unto the heap, which shall be yours too. Lov. You are a right kind father. Over. You shall have reason To think me such. How do you like this seat? your Lov. 'Tis a wholesome air, And well-built, and she', that is mistress of it, Over. She the mistress? It may be so for a time: but let my lord Say only that he but like it, and would have it; Lov. Impossible. Over. You do conclude too fast; not knowing me, Nor the engines that I work by. 'Tis not alone 1 The Lady Allworth. |