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JOHN FORD.

[THIS dramatist belonged to a good Devonshire family, being the second son of Thomas Ford of Ilsington, where he was born in April 1586. It is not known how he passed his early years till his appearance as a student of the Middle Temple, which he entered in November 1602. Here he seems diligently to have prosecuted his professional studies, and apparently was so successful in his career as a lawyer, as to be quite independent of literature as a source of income. Both in his student days and afterwards he appears to have led a sober, respectable, and somewhat retired life, exhibiting a marked contrast in this respect to most of his brother dramatists. He made his first appearance as an author in 1606, in the eighteenth year of his age, when he published an occasional poem, entitled Fame's Memorial, a tribute to the memory of Charles Blunt, Earl of Devonshire. His first essays in connection with the drama were made in conjunction with Webster, Dekker, and others. As Ford was quite independent of the stage for a livelihood, he wrote at his leisure, and more for love than reward. His first independent dramatic composition was The Lover's Melancholy, acted in 1628 and published in 1629, although possibly 'Tis Pity She's a Whore had possession of the stage previous to the former. This latter, along with The Broken Heart and Love's Sacrifice, made its appearance in print in 1633. Next year appeared a compact consecutive representation of a portion of English history,' under the title of Perkin Warbeck. This was followed in 1638 by a comedy, The Fancies Chaste and Noble, and in 1639 by his tragicomedy, The Lady's Trial. Besides these, Ford wrote a number of other dramas, now irrecoverably lost. It has been supposed that this dramatist died shortly after the publication of his last play (1639); although inquiries, too late to arrive at certainty, have scented a faint tradition that he withdrew to his native place, married, became a father, lived respected, and died at a good old age.' From the tenor of his works it has been inferred that Ford was of a somewhat irritable and melancholy temperament; and this opinion gets some countenance from a contemporary distich which photographs him thus:

'Deep in a dump John Ford was alone got,
With folded arms and melancholy hat.'

Various estimates have been formed of Ford as a dramatist, although nearly all critics agree that he is inferior to Massinger, Jonson, and Fletcher; Weber, however, thinking that he excels them all in point of pathetic effect. Hazlitt does not admire him, and says truly, that the general characteristic of his style is an artificial elaborateness, and, of course, along with all others, reprobates his morbid love of repulsive plots, low characters, and filthy language. Mr. Hartley Coleridge speaks of him thus:-'He disowned all courtship of the vulgar taste; we might therefore suppose that the horrible stories which he has embraced in 'Tis Pity She's a Whore, The Broken Heart, and Love's Sacrifice, were his own choice, and his own taste. But it would be unfair from hence to conclude that he delighted in the contemplation of vice and misery, as vice and misery. He delighted in the sensation of intellectual power, he found himself strong in the imagination of crime and of agony; his moral sense was gratified by indignation at the dark possibilities of sin, by compassion for rare extremes of suffering. He abhorred vice-he admired virtue; but

ordinary vice or modern virtue were, to him, as light wine to a dram-drinker. His genius was a telescope, ill-adapted for neighbouring objects, but powerful to bring within the sphere of vision, what nature has wisely placed at an unsociable distance. Passion must be incestuous or adulterous, grief must be something more than martyrdom, before he could make them big enough to be seen. Unquestionably he displayed great power in these horrors, which was all he desired; but had he been "of the first order of poets," he would have found and displayed superior power in "familiar matter of to-day," in failings to which all are liable, virtues which all may practise, and sorrows for which all may be the better.' After much consideration we have deemed The Lady's Trial most suitable for insertion in these pages.]

THE LADY'S

LADY'S TRIAL:

ACTED BY BOTH THEIR MAJESTIES' SERVANTS AT THE PRIVATE HOUSE IN DRURY LANE.

FIDE HONOR.1

London. 1639.

TO MY DESERVINGLY HONOURED

JOHN WYRLEY, ESQUIRE,

AND TO THE VIRTUOUS AND RIGHT WORTHY GENTLEWOMAN

MRS. MARY WYRLEY, HIS WIFE,

THIS SERVICE.

THE inequality of retribution turns to a pity, yet to you, most equal pair, must remain the when there is not ability sufficient for acknow-honour of that bounty. In presenting this issue ledgment. Your equal respects may yet admit the readiness of endeavour, though the very hazard in it betray my defect. I have enjoyed freely acquaintance with the sweetness of your dispositions, and can justly account, from the nobleness of them, an evident distinction betwixt friendship and friends. The latter (according to the practice of compliment) are usually met with, and often without search; the other, many have searched for, I have found. which, though I partake a benefit of the fortune,

For

of some less serious hours to your tuition, I appeal from the severity of censure to the mercy of your judgments; and shall rate it at a higher value than when it was mine own, if you only allow it the favour of adoption. Thus, as your happiness in the fruition of each other's love proceeds to a constancy; so the truth of mine shall appear less unshaken, as you shall please to continue in your good opinions.

JOHN FORD.

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A Room in the House of AURIA.

Enter PIERO and FUTELLI at opposite doors.
Piero. Accomplished man of fashion!
Fut. The times' wonder!

Gallant of gallants, Genoa's Piero!

Piero. Italy's darling, Europe's joy, and so forth!

The newest news unvamp'd.1

Fut. I am no foot-post,

No pedlar of Avisos, no monopolist
Of forged Corantos, monger of gazettes.
Piero. Monger of courtezans, fine Futelli;
In certain kind a merchant of the staple
For wares of use and trade; a taker-up,
Rather indeed a knocker-down; the word
Will carry either sense. But in pure earnest,
How trowls2 the common noise?

Fut. Auria, who lately

Wedded and bedded to the fair Spinella,

Tired with the enjoyments of delights, is hasting To cuff the Turkish pirates in the service

Of the great Duke of Florence.

Piero. Does not carry

His pretty thing along.
Fut. Leaves her to buffet
Land-pirates here at home.

Piero. That's thou and I;

Futelli, sirrah, and Piero.-Blockhead!

To run from such an armful of pleasures,
For gaining-what?-a bloody nose of honour.
Most sottish and abominable!

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1 untamp'd. I have not met with this singular word.

Enter ADURNI and AURIA.

Adur. We wish thee, honour'd Auria, life and
safety;

Return crown'd with a victory, whose wreath
Of triumph may advance thy country's glory,
Worthy your name and ancestors!

Aur. My lord,

I shall not live to thrive in any action
Deserving memory, when I forget
Adurni's love and favour.

Piero. I present you

My service for a farewell; let few words
Excuse all arts of compliment.

Fut. For my own part,

Kill or be kill'd (for there's the short and long Call me your shadow's hench-boy.

Aur. Gentlemen,

My business urging on a present haste, Enforceth short reply.

Adur. We dare not hinder

[on't)

Your resolution wing'd with thoughts so constant All happiness!

Piero and Fut. Contents!

[Exeunt ADURNI, PIERO, and FUTELLI Aur. So leave the winter'd people of the north, The minutes of their summer, when the sun Departing leaves them in cold robes of ice, As I leave Genoa.

Enter TRELCATIO, SPINELLA, and CASTANNA.
Now appears the object
Of my apprenticed heart. Thou bring'st, Spinella,
A welcome in a farewell-souls and bodies
Are sever'd for a time, a span of time,
To join again, without all separation,
In a confirmed unity for ever:
Such will our next embraces be, for life;
And then to take the wreck of our divisions,
Will sweeten the remembrance of past dangers,
Will fasten love in perpetuity,

Will force our sleeps to steal upon our stories.
Or night of fear or envy. To your charge
These days must come, and shall, without a cloud,
Trelcatio, our good uncle, and the comfort
Of my Spinella's sister, fair Castanna,
I do entrust this treasure.

Trel. I dare promise

To vamp, is to cover an old thing with a new part, and My husbanding that trust with truth and car

the word in the text, therefore, signifies uncovered, disclosed. Perhaps we should read untamp't-i.e. disclose it.-WEBER.

2 trowls-passes or goes round. The meaning is, "What is the common talk?'

Cast. My sister shall to me stand an example, Of pouring free devotions for your safety.

Aur. Gentle Castanna, thou'rt a branch of

goodness,

Grown on the selfsame stock with my Spinella.But why, my dear, hast thou lock'd up thy speech [To SPIN.

In so much silent sadness? Oh! at parting,
Belike one private whisper must be sigh'd.-
Uncle, the best of peace enrich your family!
I take my leave.

Trel. Blessings and health preserve you!

[Exit. Aur. Nay, nay, Castanna, you may hear our counsels:

A while you are design'd your sister's husband.

Give me thy hand, Spinella: you did promise
To send me from you with more cheerful looks,
Without a grudge or tear; 'deed, love, you did.
Spi. What friend have I left in your absence?
Aur. Many:

Thy virtues are such friends, they cannot fail thee;

Faith, purity of thoughts, and such a meekness As would force scandal to a blush.

Spi. Admit, sir,

The patent of your life should be call'd in;
How am I then left to account with griefs,
More slav'd to pity than a broken heart?
Auria, soul of my comforts, I let fall
No eye on breach of fortune; I contemn
No entertainment to divided hopes,

I urge no pressures by the scorn of change;
And yet, my Auria, when I but conceive
How easy 'tis (without impossibility)
Never to see thee more, forgive me then,
If I conclude I may be miserable,
Most miserable.

Cast. And such conclusion, sister,
Argues effects of a distrust more voluntary,
Than cause by likelihood.

Aur. 'Tis true, Castanna.

Spi. I grant it truth; yet, Auria, I'm a woman, And therefore apt to fear: to show my duty, And not to take heart from you, I'll walk from you,

At your command, and not as much as trouble Your thought with one poor looking back.

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Young ladies tread, left to their own discretion,
However wisely printed, are observed,

And construed as the lookers-on presume:
Point out thy ways, then, in such even paths,
As thine own jealousies from others' tongues
May not intrude a guilt, though undeserv'd.
Admit of visits as of physic forced,
Not to procure health, but for safe prevention
Against a growing sickness; in thy use
Of time and of discourse be found so thrifty,
As no remembrance may impeach thy rest.
Appear not in a fashion that can prompt
The gazer's eye, or holla, to report
Some widowed neglect of handsome value:
In recreations be both wise and free;
Live still at home, home to thyself, howe'er
Enrich'd with noble company: remember,
A woman's virtue, in her lifetime, writes
The epitaph all covet on their tombs:
In short, I know thou never wilt forget
Whose wife thou art, or how upon thy lips
Thy husband at his parting seal'd this kiss.-
No more.
[Kisses her.
Spi. Dear heaven! go, sister, go.
[Exeunt SPINELLA and CASTANNA.

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Aurel. Auria, take heed the covert of a folly Willing to range, be not, without excuse, Discover'd in the coinage of untruths;

I use no harder language. Thou art near
Already on a shipwreck, in forsaking
The holy land of friendship [and forbearing]
To talk your wants.-Fie!

Aur. By that sacred thing

Last issued from the temple where it dwelt,

I mean our friendship, I am sunk so low
In my estate, that, bid me live in Genoa
But six months longer, I survive the remnant
Of all my store.

Aurel. Umph!

Aur. In my country, friend,

Where I have sided? my superior, friend,

Sway'd opposition, friend; friend, here to fall
Subject to scorn, or rarely-found compassion,

Were more than man that hath a soul could bear,
A soul not stoop'd to servitude.

Aurel. You show

Nor certainty nor weak assurance yet,

Of reparation in this course, in case
Command be proffer'd.

Aur. He who cannot merit

Preferment by employments, let him bare
His throat unto the Turkish cruelty,

Or die, or live a slave without redemption!
Aurel. For that, so! but you have a wife, a
young,

A fair wife; she, though she could never claim
Right in prosperity, was never tempted
By trial of extremes; to youth and beauty
Baits for dishonour, and a perish'd fame.

Aur. Show me the man that lives, and to my face

Dare speak, scarce think, such tyranny against
Spinella's constancy, except Aurelio-
He is my friend.

Aurel. There lives not then a friend
Dares love you like Aurelio: that Aurelio
Who, late and early, often said, and truly,
Your marriage with Spinella would entangle
As much the opinion due to your discretion,
As your estate; it hath done so to both.
Aur. I find it hath.

Aurel. He who prescribes no law,
No limits of condition to the objects
Of his affection, but will merely wed

A face, because 'tis round, or limn'd by nature

In purest red and white; or, at the best,

1 sorted-chosen, allotted.

2 sided-equalled, matched.-WEBER.

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Aur. Sir, said ye?

Aurel. You form reasons,

Just ones, for your abandoning the storms
Which threaten your own ruin; but propose
No shelter for her honour: what my tongue
Hath utter'd, Auria, is but honest doubt,
And you are wise enough in the construction.
Aur. Necessity must arm my confidence,
Which, if I live to triumph over friend,
And e'er come back in plenty, I pronounce
Aurelio heir of what I can bequeath;
Some fit deduction for a worthy widow
Allow'd, with caution she be like to prove so.
Aurel. Who? I your heir! your wife being
yet so young,

In every probability so forward

To make you a father?-leave such thoughts.
Aur. Believe it,

Without replies, Aurelio: keep this note,
A warrant for receiving from Martino
Two hundred ducats; as you find occasion
Dispose them in my absence to Spinella :
I would not trust her uncle,-he, good man,
Is at an ebb himself; another hundred
I left with her, a fourth I carry with me.
Am I not poor, Aurelio, now? Exchange
Of more debates between us, would undo
My resolution; walk a little, pr'ythee,
Friends we are, and will embrace; but let's not
speak

Another word.

Aurel. I'll follow you to your horse. [Exeunt.

ACT I-SCENE II.

A Room in the House of ADURNI.

Enter ADURNI, and FUTELLI with a letter,
which he presents to ADURNI.

Adur. With her own hand?
Fut. She never used, my lord,

A second means, but kiss'd the letter first,
O'erlook'd the superscription; then let fall
Some amorous drops, kiss'd it again, talk'd to it
Twenty times over, set it to her mouth,
Then gave it me, then snatch'd it back again,
Then cry'd, 'Oh, my poor heart!' and, in an
instant,

Commend my truth and secrecy.' Such medley Of passion yet I never saw in woman.

Adur. In woman? thou'rt deceived; but that we both

Had mothers, I could say how women are,
In their own natures, models of mere change;
Of change of what is naught to what is worse.-
She fee'd you liberally?

Fut. Twenty ducats

1 else, &c. There is apparently some defect here.

2 idle-foolish, weak.-WEBER.

She forced on me; vow'd, by the precious love
She bore the best of men (I use, my lord,
Her very words), the miracle of men,
Malfato, then she sighed, this mite of gold
Was only entrance to a farther bounty:
'Tis meant, my lord, belike, press-money.
Adur. Devil!

How durst she tempt thee, Futelli, knowing
Thy love to me?

Fut. There lies, my lord, her cunning,
Rather her craft; first she began, what pity
It was that men should differ in estates
Without proportion; some so strangely rich,
Others so miserable poor; and yet,'
Quoth she, since 'tis [in] very deed unfit
All should be equals, so I must confess,
It were good justice that the properest men
Should be preferr'd to fortune, such as nature
Had mark'd with fair abilities; of which
Genoa, for aught I know, had wond'rous few,
Not two to boast of.'

Adur. Here began her itch.

Fut. I answer'd she was happy then, whos

choice

In you, my lord, was singular.
Adur. Well urg'd.

Fut. She smiled, and said, it might be so; and, yet

There stopp'd: then I closed with her, and concluded

The title of a lord was not enough

For absolute perfection; I had seen
Persons of meaner quality, much more
Exact in fair endowments-but your lordship
Will pardon me, I hope.

Adur. And love thee for it.

Fut. Phew, let that pass,' quoth she; and now we prattle

Of handsome gentlemen, in my opinion,
Malfato is a very pretty fellow;

Is he not, pray, sir?' I had then the truth
Of what I roved at, and with more than praise
Approv'd her judgment in so high a strain,
Without comparison, my honour'd lord,
That soon we both concluded of the man,
The match and business.

Adur. For delivering

A letter to Malfato?

Fut. Whereto I

No sooner had consented, with protests-
(I did protest, my lord)-of secrecy
And service, but she kiss'd me, as I live,
Of her own free accord-I trust your lordship
Conceives not me amiss-pray rip the seal,
My lord, you'll find sweet stuff, I dare believe.

Adur. [reads.] Present to the most accomplished
of men, Malfata, with this love a service.
Kind superscription! pr'ythee, find him out,
Deliver it with compliment; observe
How ceremoniously he does receive it.

Fut. Will not your lordship peruse the contents?

Adur. Enough, I know too much; be just and cunning;

A wanton mistress is a common sewer.-
Much newer project labours in my brain.

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