As for possessions and annual rents, The scourge of prodigals (want) shall never find you. By your sinister practices? Over. Yes, as rocks are When foamy billows split themselves against When wolves, with hunger pined, howl at her brightness. I am of a solid temper, and, like these, Steer on a constant course: with mine own sword, If call'd into the field, I can make that right, Nay, when my ears are pierc'd with widows' cries, Or the least sting of conscience. Lov. I admire The toughness of your nature. Over. 'Tis for you, My lord and for my daughter, I am marble. THE PICTURE: A TRAGI-COMEDY. BY PHILIP MASSINGER. Matthias, a knight of Bohemia, going to the wars; in parting with his wife, shows her substantial reasons why he should go. MATTHIAS. SOPHIA. Mat. Since we must part, Sophia, to pass further Is not alone impertinent, but dangerous. We are not distant from the Turkish camp Above five leagues; and who knows but some party May fall upon us? Be now, as thy name Soph. You put me, sir, To the utmost trial of it. Mat. Nay, no melting: Since the necessity, that now separates us, I grant that you in birth were far above me, Or to be cried up by the public voice Soph. In you alone, sir, I have all abundance. Mat. For my mind's content, In your own language I could answer you. You have been an obedient wife, a right one; We have long enjoy'd the sweets of love, and though We must not live such dotards on our pleasures, As still to hug them to the certain loss Of profit and preferment. Competent means Soph. Have you found in me, sir, Any distaste or sign of discontent, For want of what's superfluous? Mat. No, Sophia; Nor shalt thou ever have cause to repent To trade for rich materials to adorn Thy noble part, and show 'em in full lustre. While you, to whose sweet innocence both Indies Soph. If I am so rich, Or in your opinion so, why should you borrow Mat. Why? I should be censur'd In a few words know my pleasure, and obey me; I leave the government of my family, And our poor fortunes, and from these command To th' utmost of what's mine, live plentifully: Shall make a merry winter. Soph. Since you are not To be diverted, sir, from what you purpose, All arguments to stay you here are useless. Go when you please, sir. Eyes, I charge you, waste not One drop of sorrow; look you hoard all up, Till in my widow'd bed I call upon you: But then be sure you fail not. You blest angels, Guardians of human life, I at this instant To personate devotion. My soul Shall go along with you; and when you are For your protection. To tell you what I will do in your absence, would show poorly; [The good sense, rational fondness, and chastised feeling, of this dialogue, make it more valuable than many of those scenes in which this writer has attempted a deeper passion and more tragical interest. Massinger had not the higher requisites of his art in anything like the degree in which they were possessed by Ford, Webster, Tourneur, Heywood, and others. He never shakes or disturbs the mind with grief. He is read with composure and placid delight. He wrote with that equability of all the passions, which made his English style the purest and most free from violent metaphors and harsh constructions, of any of the dramatists who were his contempora ries.] THE PARLIAMENT OF LOVE: A COMEDY. BY PHILIP MASSINGER. Cleremond takes an oath to perform his mistress Leonora's pleasure. She enjoins him to kill his best friend. He invites Montrose to the field, under pretence of wanting him for a second: then shows, that he must fight with him. Cler. This is the place. Mont. An even piece of ground, Without advantage; but be jocund, friend: The honor to have enter'd first the field, Cler. I need not, So well I am acquainted with your valor, Your power to do, which Fortune, howe'er blind, But victory still sits upon your sword, And must not now forsake you. Mont. You shall see me Come boldly up; nor will I shame your cause, Cler. 'Tis not to be question'd: That which I would entreat (and pray you grant it), Mont. When we encounter |