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They would have given him generous education,
Taught him another garb, to wear his lock
And shape as gaudy as the summer, how
To dance and wag his feather àlamode,
To compliment and cringe, to talk not modestly,
Like ay forsooth and no forsooth, to blush
And look so like a chaplain; there he might
Have learnt a brazen confidence, and observed
So well the custom of the country, that
He might by this time have invented fashions
For us, and been a benefit to the kingdom;
Preserved our tailors in their wits, and saved
The charge of sending into foreign courts
For pride and antic fashions. Observe
In what a posture he does hold his hat now!
Fred. Madam, with your pardon, you have

Another dialect than was taught me when
I was commended to your care and breeding.
I understand not this; Latin or Greek
Are more familiar to my apprehension;
Logic was not so hard in my first lectures
As your strange language.

Aret. Some strong waters,-oh!

Lit. Comfits will be as comfortable to your
stomach, madam.
[Offers his box.

Aret. I fear he's spoil'd for ever: he did name
Logic, and may, for ought I know, be gone
So far to understand it. I did always
Suspect they would corrupt him in the college.
Will your Greek saws and sentences discharge
The mercer or is Latin a fit language
To court a mistress in? Master Alexander,
If you have any charity, let me
Commend him to your breeding; I suspect
I must employ my doctor first to purge
The university that lies in's head

To alter's complexion.

Kick. If you dare

Trust me to serve him

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Fred. Mr. Steward, are you sure we do not dream? Was❜t not my aunt you talk'd to?

Stew. One that loves you

Dear as her life. These clothes do not become you; You must have better, sir.

Fred. These are not old.


Stew. More suitable to the town and time. We
No Lent here, nor is't my lady's pleasure you
Should fast from anything you have a mind to,
Unless it be your learning, which she would have you
Forget with all convenient speed that may be
For the credit of your noble family.

The case is alter'd since we lived in the country;
We do not [now] invite the poor o' the parish
To dinner, keep a table for the tenants;
Our kitchen does not smell of beef, the cellar
Defies the price of malt and hops; the footmen
And coach-drivers may be drunk like gentlemen
With wine; nor will three fiddlers upon holidays,
With aid of bagpipes, that call'd in the country
To dance and plough the hall up with their hobnails,
Now make my lady merry; we do feed
Like princes, and feast nothing [else] but princes,
And are those robes fit to be seen amongst 'em?

Fred. My lady keeps a court then? Is Sir Thomas Affected with this state and cost?

Stew. He was not,

But is converted. But I hope you will not
Persist in heresy, but take a course
Of riot to content your friends; you shall
Want nothing. If you can be proud and spend it
For my lady's honour, here are a hundred
Pieces will serve you till you have new clothes;
I will present you with a nag of mine,
Poor tender of my service-please to accept,
My lady's smile more than rewards me for it.
I must provide fit servants to attend you,
Monsieurs for horse and foot.

Fred. I shall submit,

If this be my aunt's pleasure, and be ruled.
My eyes are open'd with this purse already,
And sack will help to inspire me. I must spend it.


The Queen insulting the Wife and Father of the accused Admiral in their misfortunes.

Persons.-The Constable of France, Queen, Wife and Father of CHABOT.

Constable introducing the Wife of CHABOT. Cons. SHE attends you, madam.

Queen. This humbleness proceeds not from your heart;

Why, you are a queen yourself in your own thoughts;

The admiral's wife of France cannot be less; You have not state enough, you should not move Without a train of friends and servants.

[* As Chapman had certainly the larger share in this Tragedy, the specimen should have been placed by Mr. Campbell under Chapman. Gifford at first thought 'Chabot' was scarce admissible in a collection of Shirley's Works.]

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You are my queen, unto that title bows
The humblest knee in France, my heart made lower
With my obedience and prostrate duty,
Nor have I powers created for my use
When just commands of you expect their service;
But were you queen of all the world, or something
To be thought greater, betwixt Heaven and us,
That I could reach you with my eyes and voice,
I would shoot both up in defence of my
Abused honour, and stand all your lightning.
Queen. So brave?

Wife. So just and boldly innocent.

I cannot fear, arm'd with a noble conscience,
The tempest of your frown, were it more frightful
Than every fury made a woman's anger,
Prepared to kill with death's most horrid ceremony;
Yet with what freedom of my soul I can
Forgive your accusation of my pride.

Queen. Forgive? What insolence is like this lanCan any action of ours be capable [guage? Of thy forgiveness? Dust! how I despise thee! Can we sin to be object of thy mercy?

Wife. Yes, and have done 't already, and no stain To your greatness, madam; 'tis my charity, I can remit; when sovereign princes dare Do injury to those that live beneath them, They turn worth pity and their prayers, and 'tis In the free power of those whom they oppress To pardon 'em ; each soul has a prerogative And privilege royal that was sign'd by Heaven. But though, in th' knowledge of my disposition, Stranger to pride, and what you charge me with, I can forgive the injustice done to me, And striking at my person, I have no Commission from my lord to clear you for The wrongs you have done him, and till he pardon The wounding of his loyalty, with which life Can hold no balance, I must talk just boldness To say

Father. No more! Now I must tell you, daughter, Lest you forget yourself, she is the queen, And it becomes you not to vie with her Passion for passion: if your lord stand fast To the full search of law, Heaven will revenge him, And give him up precious to good men's loves. If you attempt by these unruly ways To vindicate his justice, I'm against you; Dear as I wish your husband's life and fame, Subjects are bound to suffer, not contest With princes, since their will and acts must be Accounted one day to a Judge supreme.

Wife. I ha' done. If the devotion to my lord, Or pity to his innocence, have led me Beyond the awful limits to be observed By one so much beneath your sacred person, I thus low crave your royal pardon, madam; [Kneels. I know you will remember, in your goodness, My life-blood is concern'd while his least vein Shall run black and polluted, my heart fed With what keeps him alive; nor can there be A greater wound than that which strikes the life Of our good name, so much above the bleeding

Of this rude pile we carry, as the soul
Hath excellence above this earth-born frailty.
My lord, by the king's will, is led already
To a severe arraignment, and to judges
Will make no tender search into his tract
Of life and state; stay but a little while,
And France shall echo to his shame or innocence.
This suit I beg with tears, I shall have sorrow
Enough to hear him censured foul and monstrous
Should you forbear to antedate my sufferings. [cline

Queen. Your conscience comes about, and you inTo fear he may be worth the law's condemning. Wife [rising]. I sooner will suspect the stars may lose


[Born, 1620. Died, 1666.]

ALEXANDER BROME was an attorney in the Lord Mayor's Court. From a verse in one of his poems, it would seem that he had been sent once in the civil war (by compulsion no doubt), on the parliament side, but had staid only three days, and never fought against the king and the cavaliers. He was in truth a strenuous loyalist, and the bacchanalian songster of his party. Most of the songs and epigrams that were published against the Rump have been ascribed to him. He had besides a share in a translation of Horace, with Fanshawe, Holiday, Cowley, and others, and published a single comedy, the Cunning Lovers,


TELL me not of a face that's fair,
Nor lip and cheek that's red,

Nor of the tresses of her hair,


Nor curls in order laid Nor of a rare seraphic voice, That like an angel sings; Though if I were to take my choice,

I would have all these things. But if that thou wilt have me love, And it must be a she; The only argument can move Is, that she will love me.

The glories of your ladies be But metaphors of things, And but resemble what we see

Their way, and crystal Heaven return to chaos;
Truth sits not on her square more firm than he ;
Yet let me tell you, madam, were his life
And action so foul as you have character'd
And the bad world expects, though as a wife
'Twere duty I should weep myself to death
To know him fall'n from virtue, yet so much
I, a frail woman, love my king and country,
I should condemn him too, and think all honours,
The price of his lost faith, more fatal to me
Than Cleopatra's asps warm in my bosom,
And as much boast their killing.

Each common object brings. Roses out-red their lips and cheeks. Lilies their whiteness stain: What fool is he that shadows seeks,

And may the substance gain! Then if thou'lt have me love a lass, Let it be one that's kind, Else I'm a servant to the glass That's with Canary lined.

which was acted in 1651, at the private house in Drury. There is a playful variety in his metre, that probably had a better effect in song than in reading. His thoughts on love and the bottle have at least the merit of being decently jovial, though he arrays the trite arguments of convivial invitation in few original images. In studying the traits and complexion of a past age, amusement, if not illustration, will often be found from the ordinary effusions of party ridicule. In this view the Diurnal, and other political satires of Brome, have an extrinsic value as contemporary caricatures.

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HERRICK'S vein of poetry is very irregular; but where the ore is pure, it is of high value. His song beginning, "Gather ye rose-buds, while ye may," is sweetly Anacreontic. Nichols, in his History of Leicestershire, has given the fullest account of his history hitherto published, and reprinted many of his poems, which illustrate his family connexions. He was the son of an eminent goldsmith in Cheapside, was born in London, and educated at Cambridge. Being patronised by the Earl of Exeter, he was, in 1629, presented by Charles I. to the vicarage of Dean Prior, in Devonshire, from which he was ejected during the civil war, and then having assumed the habit of a layman, resided in Westminster. After the Restoration he was replaced in his vicarage.

For angels or for queens, pray know 'Tis our own fancy makes you so.

Don't suppose your Majesty

By tyranny's best signified, And your angelic Natures be

Distinguish'd only by your pride. Tyrants make subjects rebels grow, And pride makes angels devils below, And your pride may make you so!

[Born, 1591.]


I HAVE been in love, and in debt, and in drink— This many and many a year;

And those three are plagues enough, one would For one poor mortal to bear. [think,

'Twas drink made me fall into love,

And love made me run into debt ;

And though I have struggled, and struggled and I cannot get out of them yet. [strove,

There's nothing but money can cure me, And rid me of all my pain;

"Twill pay all my debts,
And remove all my lets!

And my mistress that cannot endure me,
Will love me, and love me again :
Then I'll fall to loving and drinking again.


To his Hesperides, or works human and divine*, he added some pieces on religious subjects, where his volatile genius was not in her ele


[* What is Divine' has much of the essence of poetry; that which is human, of the frailty of the flesh. Some are playfully pastoral, some sweetly Anacreontic, some in the higher key of religion, others lasciviously wanton and unclean. The whole collection seems to have passed into oblivion till about the year 1796, and since then we have had a separate volume of selections, and two complete reprints. His several excellences have preserved his many indecencies, the divinity of his verse (poetically speaking) the dunghill of his obscener moods. Southey, admitting the perennial beauty of many of his poems, has styled him, not with too much severity, a coarseminded and beastly writer.' Jones' Attempts in Verse, p. 85; see also Quar. Rev. vol. iv. p. 171.]

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