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A strength 'gainst terror, and himself so good,
Eun. You are too tender of your honour, lady,
Save what is lawful, he not owns that heat,
Aph. (Reading.) How witty sorrow has found out discourse
Fitting a midnight season: here I see
Clot. Methinks I stand like Tarquin in the night When he defiled the chastity of Rome, Doubtful of what to do; and like a thief, I take each noise to be an officer.
[She still reads on.
Though I do know it is a deed of death,
Aph. Alack, poor maid!
Poor ravish'd Philomel! thy lot was ill
Alack, why not? say he should offer foul,
And night, his friend, might overtempt his will.
Clot. I am resolved, I will be bold and resolute : Hail, beauteous damsel !
Aph. Ha! what man art thou,
That hast thy countenance clouded with thy cloak,
Clot. I came to find one beautiful as thou
Aph. I understand you not.
Clot. But you must; yea, and the right way too. Aph. Help! help! help!
Clot. Peace! none of your loud music, lady: If you raise a note, or beat the air with clamour, You see your death. [Draws his dagger. Aph. What violence is this, inhuman sir? Why do you threaten war, fright my soft peace With most ungentle steel? What have I done Dangerous, or am like to do? Why do you wrack me thus ?
Than had Aphelia brought me forth an heir,
More than a living scorn upon your name?
Clovis. O that in nature there was left an art
To house within thy bosom perjury?
Shine like the fiery beacons on a hill,
If that our vows are register'd in heaven,
Clot. I will endure no longer : come along,
Has not yet cool'd the breath with which thou
Eu. The queen! she faints.
Clovis. Is there a God left so propitious
Clovis. Nothing so happy, Strephon; would I
I should no more remember she would sit
Lamot. See,she's return'd, and with majestic gaze,
Clovis. Convey me hence, some charitable man,
Clotair. Rule your disorder'd tongue;
Clovis. I had forgot myself, yet well remember
Monster of men!
Thou king of darkness! down unto thy hell!
Eun. Beat' down their swords-what do the princes mean?
Ring out the 'larum-bell-call up the court
ANOTHER SCENE FROM THE SAME. Persons.-CLOVIS, CLOTAIR, STREPHON, LAMOT the Physician, Eunuch, APHELIA.
In the sequel of the story, the guards of the king having fallen upon Clovis, he is apparently killed, but is nevertheless secretly cured of his wounds, and assumes a disguise. In the mean time, the queen mother, anxious to get rid of Aphelia, causes one of her own paramours to dress in the armour of Prince Clovis, and to demand, in the character of his ghost, that Aphelia shall be sacrificed upon his hearse. Clotair pretends to comply with this sacrifice, and Aphelia is brought out to execution; but when all is ready, he takes the sword from the headsman, lays it at her feet, and declares her his queen. Clovis attends in disguise, and the poet makes him behave with rather more composure than we should expect from his trying situation; but when he sees his mistress accept the hand of his royal brother, he at last breaks out.
Clovis. WHERE am I?
Is this a funeral? O that I were a hearse,
Was not to have it known; this chest contains
Clotair. Into my soul I welcome thee, dear
This second birth of thine brings me more joy
A hearse, supposed to contain the corpse of Clovis, forms a part of the pageant here introduced.
That eat'st into my marrow, turn'st my blood,
O man bewomanized! Wert thou not mine?
Clotair. You have done ill,
Not with your equal, Clovis, she's thy queen.
Aphelia. Arise :
And henceforth, Clovis, thus instruct thy soul;
I will no more offend you would to God
JAMES SHIRLEY was born in London. educated at Cambridge*, where he took the degree of A.M. and had a curacy for some time at or near St. Alban's, but embracing popery, became a schoolmaster  in that town. Leaving this employment, he settled in London as a dramatic writer, and between the years 1625 and 1666 published thirty-nine plays. In the civil wars he followed his patron, the Earl of Newcastle, to the field; but on the decline of the royal cause returned to London, and, as the
[Born, 1596. Died, 1666.]
Persons-The Duchess ROSAURA and her ladies VALERIA and CELINDA.
FROM THE TRAGEDY OF "THE CARDINAL."
Valeria. SWEET madam, be less thoughtful; this obedience
To passion will destroy the noblest frame
And ceremonies black for him that died.
Clovis, she's mine; let not your spirit war
Ye powers, ye are unjust, for her wild breath,
*He had studied also at Oxford, where Wood says that Laud objected to his taking orders, on account of a mole on his left cheek, which greatly disfigured him. This fastidiousness about personal beauty is certainly beyond the Levitical law. [As no mention of Shirley occurs in any of the public records of Oxford, the duration of his residence at St. John's College cannot be determined.-DYCE's Life, p. v.]
[The king, CLOTAIR, pulls him Nay, I have done: beware of jealousy! I would not have you nourish jealous thoughts; Though she has broke her faith to me, to you, Against her reputation, she'll be true: Farewell my first love lost, I'll choose to have No wife till death shall wed me to my grave. Come, Strephon, come and teach me how to die, That gavest me life so unadvisedly.
theatres were now shut, kept a school in Whitefriars, where he educated many eminent characters. At the re-opening of the theatres he must have been too old to have renewed his dramatic labours; and what benefit the Restoration brought him as a royalist, we are not informed. Both he and his wife died on the same day, immediately after the great fire of London, by which they had been driven out of their house, and probably owed their deaths to their losses and terror on that occasiont.
The joys that wait upon the court-your birth, And a new Hymen that is coming towards you, Invite a change.
Duch. Ladies, I thank you both.
That is behind. My year of mourning hath not
[ Shirley was the last of a great race, all of whom spoke nearly the same language, and had a set of moral feelings and notions in common. A new language, and quite a new turn of tragic and comic interest, came in with the Restoration.-LAMB.]
Val. He's young and active, and composed most sweetly.
Duch. I have seen a face more tempting.
Too much of woman in't; his eyes speak movingly,
Duch. Prithee no more, thou art in love with him. The man in your esteem, Celinda, now.
Cel. Alvarez is, I must confess, a gentleman Of handsome composition, but with
His mind (the greater excellence) I think
If man be well consider'd, that's Columbo,
Duch. My torment!
Val. She affects him not.
Cel. He has a person and a bravery beyond All men that I observe.
Val. He is a soldier,
A rough-hewn man, and may show well at distance;
Duch. What is it to be born above these ladies, And want their freedom? They are not constrain'd, Nor slaved by their own greatness, or the king's, But let their free hearts look abroad and choose By their own eyes to love. I must repair My poor afflicted bosom, and assume
The privilege I was born with, which now prompts
Our mutual vows, thou canst suspect it possible
D'Alv. Your grace's pardon :
To speak with freedom, I am not so old
I am not ignorant your birth and greatness
Has pleased to cast a beam, which was not meant
Of birth and state! that I could shift into
D'Alv. If I then be happy
To have a name within your thought, there can
Duch. My heart is in a mist; some good star Upon my resolution, and direct Two lovers in their chaste embrace to meet. Columbo's bed contains my winding-sheet.
FROM THE SAME.
Conference of the Duchess and the Cardinal, after the Duchess has sent a letter to Columbo, praying him to renounce her, and has received an answer from the camp, complying with the request.
Duch. 'Tis easy to interpret.
May I deserve the
favour? [Gives him the letter. Duch. He looks as though his eyes would fire the paper;
They are a pair of burning glasses, and
Card. What lethargy could thus unspirit him? I am all wonder. Do not believe, madam, But that Columbo's love is yet more sacred To honour and yourself, than thus to forfeit What I have heard him call the glorious wreath To all his merits, given him by the king, From whom he took you with more pride than ever He came from victory; his kisses hang Yet panting on your lips, and he but now Exchanged religious farewell, to return But with more triumph to be yours. Duch. My lord,
You do believe your nephew's hand was not
Card. Strange arts and windings in the worldmost dark
And subtle progresses. Who brought this letter? Duch. I inquired not his name. I thought it not Considerable to take such narrow notice.
Card. Desert and honour urged it here, nor can I blame you to be angry; yet his person Obliged you should have given a nobler pause Before you made your faith and change so violent From his known worth, into the arms of one, However fashion'd to your amorous wish, Not equal to his cheapest fame, with all The gloss of blood and merit.
Duch. This comparison,
My good lord cardinal, I cannot think Flows from an even justice, it betrays You partial where your blood runs.
Card. I fear, madam,
Your own takes too much license, and will soon
Or honour, to your bed-must he supplant him?
Duch. My fame, lord cardinal!
It stands upon an innocence as clear
As the devotions you pay to heaven.
I shall not urge, my lord, your soft indulgence
Card. You are a fine court lady.
Duch. And you should be a reverend churchman. Card. One that, if you have not thrown off moWould counsel you to leave Alvarez. [desty,
Duchess. My lord.
Card. The king speaks of a letter that has brought The church and law allows me? A riddle in't
Duch. 'Cause you dare do worse Than marriage, must not I be admitted what
Card. Insolent! then you dare marry him? Duch. Dare! let your contracted flame and malice, with
Columbo's rage higher than that, meet us