Purchased beneath my honour. You make play,

Not a pastime, but a tyranny, and vex

Yourself and my estate by 't.

ARET. Good, proceed."

BORN. Another game you have, which consumes more
Your fame than purse; your rev s in the night,

Your meetings called the ball, to which appear,
As to the court of pleasure, all your gallants
And ladies, thither bound by a subpoena
Of Venus and small Cupid's high displeasure;
'Tis but the Family of Love translated

Into more costly sin. There was a play on 't,
And had the poet not been bribed to a modest
Expression of your antic gambols in 't,

Some darks had been discovered, and the deeds too;
In time he may repent, and make some blush
To see the second part danced on the stage.
My thoughts acquit you for dishonouring me
By any foul act. but the virtuous know

"Tis not enough to clear ourselves, but the
Suspicions of our shame.

ARET. Have you concluded

Your lecture ?

BORN. I have done: and howsoever

My langauge may appear to you, it carries
No other than my fair and just intent

To your delights, without curb to their modest

And noble freedom.

In the Ball,' a comedy partly by Chapman, but chiefly by Shirley, a coxcomb (Bostock), crazed on the point of family, is shewn up in the most admirable manner. Sir Marmaduke Travers, by way of fooling him, tells him that he is rivalled in his suit of a particular lady by Sir Ambrose Lamount.

Scene from the 'Ball.

BOSTOCK and SIR MARMADUKE.

BOSTOCK. Does she love anybody else?

MARMADUKE. I know not;

But she has half a score upon my knowledge,

Are suitors for her favour.

Bos. Name but one,

And if he cannot shew as many coats

MAR. He thinks he has good cards for her, and likes

His game well.

Bos. Be an understanding knight,

And take my meaning: if he cannot shew

As much in heraldry

MAR. I do not know how rich he is in fields,

But he is a gentleman.

Bos. Is he a branch of the nobility?

How many lords can he call cousin ?-else

He must be taught to know he has presumed

To stand in competition with me.

MAR. You will not kill him?

Bos. You shall pardon me ;

I have that within me must not be provoked;
There be some living now that have been killed
For lesser matters.

MAR. Some living that have been killed?

Bos. I mean some living that have seen examples,
Not to confront nobility; and I

Am sensible of my honour.

MAR. His name is

Sir Ambrose.

Bos. Lamount; a knight of yesterday,

And he shall die to-morrow; name another.

MAR. Not so fast, sir; you must take some breath.
Bos. I care no more for killing half-a-dozen
Knights of the lower bouse-I mean that are not
Descended from nobility-than I do

To kick any footman; an Sir Ambrose were

Knight of the Sun, king Oberon should not save him,
Nor his queen Mab.

Enter SIR AMBROSE LANOUNT.

MAR. Unluckily he 's here, sir.

Bos. Sir Ambrose,

How does thy knighthood? ba!

AMBROSE. My nymph of honour, well; I joy to see thee.
Bos. Sir Marmaduke tells me thou art suitor to

Lady Lucina.

AMB. I have ambition

To be her servant.

Bos. Hast? thou 'rt a brave knight, and I commend

Thy judgment.

AMB. Sir Marmaduke himself leans that way too.

Bos. Why didst conceal it? Come, the more the merrier.
But I could never see you there.

MAE. I hope,

Sir, we may live.

Bos. I'll tell you, gentlemen,

Cupid has given us all one livery;

I serve that lady too; you understand me?

But who shall carry her, the Fates determine;
I could be knighted too.

AMB. That would be no addition to

Your blood.

Bos. I think it would not; so my lord told me;
Thou know'st my lord ?-not the earl, my other
Cousin-there's a spark his predecessors
Have matched into the blood; you understan
He put me upon this lady; I proclaim
No hopes; pray let 's together, gentlemen;
If she be wise-I say no more; she shall not
Cost me a sigh, nor shall her love engage me
To draw a sword: 1 have vowed that.

MAR. You did but jest before.

AMB. "Twere pity that one drop

Of your heroic blood should fall to th' ground:
Who knows but all your cousin lords may die.
MAR. AS I believe them not immortal, sir.

AMB. Then you are gulf of honour, swallow all,
May marry some queen yourself, and get princes
To furnish the barren parts of Christendom.

The finest verses of Shirley occur in his play, the 'Contention of Ajax and Ulysses.' They are said to have been greatly admired by Charles II. The thoughts are elevated, and the expression highly poetical:

There was a long cessation of the drama during the Civil War and the Commonwealth.

MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

In Puttenham's 'Art of English Poesy' (1589), is the following • ditty of Her Majesty's own making, passing sweet and harmonical?' Verses by Queen Elizabeth.

The doubt of future foes exiles my present joy,

And wit me warns to shun such suares as threaten mine annoy;

For falsehood now doth flow, and subject faith doth ebb,

Which would not be if reason ruled, or wisdom weaved the web.

But clouds of toys untried do cloak aspiring minds,

Which turn to rain, of late repent, by course of changed winds.

The top of hope supposed, the root of ruth will be,

And fruitless all their graffed guiles, as shortly ye shall see;
Then dazzled eyes with pride which great ambition blinds,

Shall be unsealed by worthy wights, whose foresight falsehood finds,
The daughter of debate, that eke discord doth sow,

Shall reap no grain where former rule hath taught still peace to grow.
No foreign banished wight shall anchor in this port;

Our realm it brooks no stranger's force-let them elsewhere resort.

Our rusty sword with rest shall first his edge employ,

To poll their tops that seek such change, and gape for future joy.

The Old and Young Courtier.

An old song made by an aged old pate,

Of an old worshipful gentleman, who had a great estate

That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate,

And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate;
Like an old courtier of the queen's,

And the queen's old courtier.

With an old lady, whose anger one word assuages;

They every quarter paid their old servants their wages,

And never knew what belonged to coachmen, footmen nor pages, But kept twenty old fellows with blue coats and badges;

Like an old courtier, &c.

With an old study filled with learned old books;

With an old reverend chaplain-you might know him by his looks;
With an old buttery hatch worn quite off the hooks;

And an old kitchen, that maintained half-a-dozen old cooks;
Like an old courtier, &c.

With an old hall, hung about with pikes, guns, and bows,

With old swords and bucklers, that had borne many shrewd blows;
And an old frieze coat, to cover his worship's trunk hose;
And a cup of old sherry, to comfort his copper nose;

Like an old courtier, &c.

With a good old fashion, when Christmas was come,
To call in all his old neighbours with bagpipe and drum,
With good cheer enough to furnish every old room,

And old liquor enough to make a cat speak, and a man dumb;
Like an old courtier, &c.

With an old falconer, huntsmen, and a kennel full of hounds,
That never hawked nor hunted but on his own grounds;
Who, like a wise man, kept himself within his own bounds,
And when he died, gave every child a thousand good pounds;
Like an old courtier, &c.

But to his eldest son his house and lands he assigned,
Charging him in his will to keep the old bountiful mind,
To be good to his old tenants, and to his neighbours to be kind:
But in the ensuing ditty you shall hear how he was inclined;
Like a young courtier of the king's,

And the king's young courtier.

Like a flourishing young gallant, newly come to his land,
Who keeps a brace of painted madams at his command,
And takes up a thousand pounds upon his father's land,
And gets drunk in a tavern till he can neither go nor stand;
Like a young courtier, &c.

With a newfangled lady, that is dainty, nice, and spare,
Who never knew what belonged to good housekeeping or care,
Who buys gaudy-coloured fans to play with wantou air,
And seven or eight different dressings of other women's hair;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new-fashioned hall, built where the old one stood,
Hung round with new pictures that do the poor no good,
With a fine marble chimney, wherein burns neither coal nor wood,
And a new smooth shovel-board, whereon no victuals ne'er stood;
Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new study, stuffed full of pamphlets and plays;

And a new chaplain, that swears faster than he prays;

With a new buttery hatch, that opens once in four or five days; And a new French cook, to devise kickshaws and toys;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new fashion, when Christmas is drawing on,

On a new journey to London straight we all must begone,
And leave none to keep house but our new porter John,

Who relieves the poor with a thump on the back with a stone;
Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new gentleman-usher, whose carriage is complete;
With a new coachman, footmen, and pages to carry up the meat;
With a waiting-gentlewoman, whose dressing is very neat,
Who, when her lady has dined, lets the servants not eat;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With new titles of honour,* bought with his father's old gold,
For which sundry of his ancestors' old manors are sold;
And this is the course most of our new gallants hold,
Which makes that good housekeeping is now grown so cold
Among the young courtiers of the king,
Or the king's young courtiers.

Time's Alteration.

*This is supposed to refer to the creation of baronets by King James in 1611.