Ruined themselves? Human invention Rol. I ha' spoke too much already, it seems; sure he has sent for her; I dare repose my life on her, to whose trust I gave my heart; she is a thousand witnesses in herself. Fulo. It will be mirth, sir. Rol. I like not this consulting---they break off pleasantly---now, in the name of Mercury, what crotchet? Duke. I see it is in vain To interrupt our fate; what is decreed Sit there,--nay, be not modest, you were born to't, And therefore take your place: nay, nay, be covered; Imagine that a crown, and those your subjects, Dond. He's studying some speech, I'll lay my Duke. Against his coronation, to thank all [Draw their Swords: EUGENIA enters, Eug. Hold, I beseech you; If, while my knee doth beg your blessing, here What must be dearest to me, Duke. Ha? Eug. My joy of life! Duke. Destroy me not. Rol. The cage was my conveyance. Peren. That was presented lately with the birds, you gave command. Duke. Be dumb, I dare not hear you. He has betrayed me; they shall suffer both, Duke. I hear too much; thou hast forgot thy Thy fortunes, and thy father. Were my cares, Enter BONAMICO. Grut. Here is the other traitor, sir. Duke. It needs not; thou art dead already, girl, Eug. Alas! I would preserve all, am so far To him, pulled our displeasure on him; since from killing, That I would die myself, rather than see One drop of blood forced from his crimson fountain, Or but one tear rackt from your eye. Oh hear me, Duke. Kill not thy father with one word, Eugenia: Thy husband! We studying to add more height to thee, know, Though none durst tell us so now we have ar gument Of justice, and our every breath is law, To speak thee dead at once; we shaʼnot need To study a divorce, thy second exile Shall be eternal-death. Rol. You do me honour. Do move preposterous in my brain: what cure? Enter DONDOLO. How now, has Philenzo still a head on? Duke. Follow him, and with that nimbleness thou wouldst Duke. Be it your punishment, as you preferred Leap from thy chamber when the roof's a-fire, him By art to her, now, by another art, For ever to divide them; be's executioner, Rol. Ere I go, dread sir, I have an humble suit; it is not life Duke. Tis granted. Duke. Not the least whisper of Philenzo, as you value our regard.—O, my good lord, welcome! Ambas. Letters to your grace. Duke. They are grateful as my comfort:-Perenotto, let them withdraw; her vein will be discovered:-Fulvio, follow and part them; give order for his execution; off with his head instantly -I can read no more for joy: Perenotto, use your best oratory on my daughter to forget that traitor, aud prepare to marry Florence; 'tis concluded to be solemnized by proxy. Dond. I'll see the execution. [Exit. Duke. Now to the rest: [Reads. "Your last letters were acceptable; and our son before had intention to finish the marriage in his person; but lately receiving intelligence, that one Philenzo, of noble birth, now in exile, though without your consent, had long since interest in your daughter's affection, we thought meet rather to advise for his repeal, than proceed to our dishonour. Where the hearts meet, there only marriages are sacred; and princes should be exemplary in all justice. Although we disclaim in this design, on our parts, we will continue all other princely correspondence." I am justly punished, and have run myself Can bring me off with safety.-My lord, you may Proclaim aloud our pardon to Philenzo, And bring him back to us. Dond. 'Tis too late, sir; Philenzo's dead already: He saved the executioner that trouble. Enter FULVIO. Duke. Poisoned! how? Where is Philenzo? This fool reports him poisoned! what circumstance? Fulo. He had no sooner parted from Eugenia, Duke. All this talk is such, and through But thou wo't not believe me: had he lived, Avails too late compunction? Noble gentleman! Duke. Who now Shall marry my Eugenia? I have undone The hope of our posterity. Eug. Not so, sir; If yet you'll give me leave to make my choice, I'll not despair to find a husband. Duke. Where? Eug. Here, royal sir; Philenzo is not dead, But made, by virtue of a drink, to seem so; Thus to prevent his suffering, that I night, Or other friend by my confederacy, By begging of his body fit for burial, Preserve him from your anger. Duke. Do'st not mock me? •Eug. Let me beg your pardon: Confident of your change to mercy, I have Confessed what terror could not force me to. Enter MORELLO, BONAMICO, and Ladies. Grut. This is pretty, Dondolo. And call me father. Rol. I am not yet awake. Eug. Thou art, Philenzo, and all this is truth; My father is converted. Rol. 'Tis a miracle! Duke. You must believe it: In sign how we are pleased, proclaim this day, Morel. Then my petticoat is discharged. Grut. Make me happy to renew my suit. I was in hell last; 'tis little less to be in a petticoat sometimes, Rol. Madam, vouchsafe him kiss your hand; We owe him much. [Presenting BONAMICO, Duke. We'll take him to our service, Bon. I am too much honoured. Duke. And you into our bosom. This day shall Be consecrate to triumph; and may time, When 'tis decreed the world shall have an end, By revolution of the year, make this The day that shall conclude all memories! [Exeunt. 29 Barlibreak-Littleton explains Chorus" circularis," Barley-break, when they dance taking hands round." So, in The Virgin Martyr, A. 5. S. 1 ; "He is at Barli-break, and the last couple are now in hell.” The Guardian, A. 1. S. 1.: 66 Hey-day! there are a legion of young Cupids A new Wonder, A Woman never vext, 1632, A. 1.: 66 If you find my mistris Have a mind to this coupling at barly-breake, Let her not be the last couple to be left in hell." Reynard's Deliverance of 266 Christians, 1608. Sign. A. 3. : - or rather, as lovers roming after young damosels at barli-breake." EDITION, The Bird in a Cage, a Comedie, as it hath beene presented at the Phoenix in Drury-lane. The author James Shirley, servant to her Majesty:-Juven. Satyra 7, Et spes et ratio Studiorum in Casare tantum. London, printed by B. Alsop and T. Fawcet, for William Cooke; and are to be sold at his shop neere Furnivals Inne Gate, in Holborne, 1633. 4to. THE JEW OF MALTA. BY CHRISTOPHER MARLOW. TO MY WORTHY FRIEND MR THOMAS HAMMON, OF GRAY'S INN, &C. THIS Play, composed by so worthy an author as Mr Marlow, and the part of the Jew presented by so inimitable an actor as Mr Allen,* being in this latter age commended to the stage: as I ushered it unto the court, and presented it to the Cock-pit, with these prologues and epilogues here inserted, so now being newly brought to the press, I was loth it should be published without the ornament of an epistle; making choice of you unto whom to devote it; than whom (of all those gentlemen and acquaintance, within the compass of my long knowledge) there is none more able to tax ignorance, or attribute right to merit. Sir, you have been pleased to grace some of mine own works with your courteous patronage: I hope this will not be the worse accepted, because commended by me; over whom, none can claim more power or privilege than yourself. I had no better a new-year's gift to present you with; receive it therefore as a continuance of that inviolable obligement, by which he rests still engaged, who, as he ever hath, shall always remain Tuissimus, THE PROLOGUE SPOKEN AT COURT. Gracious and great, that we so boldly dare, Who lived in Malta: you shall find him still, * The praises bestowed on this excellent actor and worthy man, by his contemporaries, would be sufficient to send his name down to posterity with honour, independent of the noble endowment which he founded at Dulwich. He was born in London on the 1st of September, 1566, was early introduced to the stage, and appears to have been at the head of his profession, by which he acquired a considerable fortune. He retired to Dulwich several years before his death, which happened on the 25th of November, 1626. See his life in the Biographia Britannica. + Thomas Heywood.-See an account of him, page 1 of this volume. Perkins.-This was Richard Perkins, one of the performers belonging to the Cockpit theatre in Drury-Lane. His name is printed among those who acted in Hannibal and Scipio, by Nabbes; The Wedding, by Shirley; and The Fair Maid of the West, by Heywood. After the playhouses were shut up, on account of the confusion arising from the civil wars, Perkins and Sumner, who belonged to the same house, lived together at Clerkenwell, where they died and were buried. They both died some years be fore the Restoration. See The Dialogue on Plays and Players, vol, xii. |