2. Friend. Do you note his joy? Cap. I never felt a more severe necessity : Then came thy excellent pity. Not yet ready! Have you such confidence in my just manhood That you dare so long trust me, and yet tempt me Beyond the toleration of man's virtue? Why, would you be more cruel than your injury? I shall deceive you then: Sir, either draw, Col. I'll venture it once again, And if 't be but as true as it is wondrous, I shall have that I come for. Your leave, Gentlemen. [They fight. 1. Friend If he should do't indeed, and deceive us all now Stay, by this hand he offers; fights i'faith; Fights: by this light, he fights, Sir. 2. Friend. So methinks, Sir. 1. Friend. An absolute Punto, ha? 2. Friend. 'Twas a Passado, Sir. 1. Friend. Why, let it pass, and 'twas; I'm sure 'twas somewhat. What's that now? 2. Friend. That's a Punto. 1. Friend. O go to then, I knew 'twas not far off: What a world's this! Is Coward a more stirring meat than Bastard? ho! I honor thee: 'Tis right and fair, and he that breathes against it, He breathes against the justice of a man ; And And man to cut him off, 'tis no injustice. Thanks, thanks, for this most unexpected nobleness. [The Colonel is disarmed. Cap. Truth never fails her servant, Sir, nor leaves him With the day's shame upon him. 1. Friend. Thou 'st redeem'd Thy worth to the same height 'twas first esteem'd.47 47 The insipid levelling morality to which the modern stage is tied down would not admit of such admirable passions as these scenes are filled with. A puritanical obtuseness of sentiment, a stupid infantile goodness, is creeping among us, instead of the vigorous passions, and virtues clad in flesh and blood, with which the old dramatists present us. Those noble and liberal casuists could discern in the differences, the quarrels, the animosities of man, a beauty and truth of moral feeling, no less than in the iterately inculcated duties of forgiveness and atonement. With us all is hypocritical meekness. A reconciliation scene (let the occasion be never so absurd or unnatural) is always sure of applause. Our audiences come to the theatre to be complimented on their goodness. They compare notes with the amiable characters in the play, and find a wonderful similarity of disposition between them. We have a common stock of dramatic morality out of which a writer may be supplied without the trouble of copying it from originals within his own breast. To know the boundaries of honor, to be judiciously valiant, to have a temperance which shall beget a smoothness in the angry swellings of youth, to esteem life as nothing when the sacred reputation of a parent is to be defended, yet to shake and tremble under a pious cowardice when that ark of an honest confidence is found to be frail and tottering, to feel the true blows of a real disgrace blunting that sword which the imaginary strokes of a supposed false imputation had put so keen an edge upon but lately: to do, or to imagine this done in a feigned story, asks something more of a moral sense, somewhat a greater delicacy of perception in questions of right and wrong, than goes to the writing of two or three hackneyed sentences about the laws of honor as opposed to the laws of the land, or a common place against duelling. Yet such things would stand a writer now a days in far better stead than Captain Ager and his conscientious honor; and he would be considered as a far better teacher of morality thau old Rowley or Middleton if they were living. ALL'S ALL'S LOST BY LUST: A TRAGEDY. BY Roderigo King of Spain takes the opportunity to violate the Daughter of Julianus, while that old General is fighting his Battles against the Moors. Jacinta seeks her Father in the Camp, at the moment of Victory. JULIANUS. Servant. Ser. Sir, here's a Woman (forc'd by some tide of sorrow) With tears intreats your pity, and to see you. Jul. If any Soldier has done violence to her, Death shall divide him from us: fetch her in. And when I ha' told my conquest to my King, Servant returns with Jacinta veiled. Is this the creature? Serv. Yes, my Lord, and a sad one. The down-cast look calls up compassion in me, Hast not a tongue to read thy sorrows out? This book I understand not. Jacin. O my dear father! Jul. Thy father, who has wrong'd him? Jul. Under me? Jacin. Above you. Jul. Jul. Above me! who's above a general? None but the general of all Spain's armies; And that's the king, king Roderick: he's all goodness, He cannot wrong thy father. Jacin. What was Tarquin? Jul. A king, and yet a ravisher. Jacin. Such a sin Was in those days a monster; now 'tis common. Jul. Prithee be plain. Jacin. Have not you, Sir, a daughter? Jul. If I have not, I am the wretched'st man That this day lives: for all the wealth I have Lives in that child. Jacin. O for your daughter's sake then hear my woes. Jul. Rise then, and speak 'em. Jacin. No, let me kneel still : Such a resemblance of a daughter's duty For such my injuries must exact from you, Jul. And so they do; For whilst I see thee kneeling, I think of my Jacinta. Coming on sweetly in the springing bud, And ne'er felt heat, to spread the summer sweet; Did to itself keep in its own perfume; Say that some rapine hand had pluck'd the bloom,48 Defiling her white lawn of chastity With ugly blacks of lust: what would you do? Of man's best understanding faculties: There must be love, and fatherhood, and grief, Beget a thing call'd vengeance: but they must sit upon't. 4 "Cropt this fair Rose, &c. Otway. Jacin. Jacin. Say this were done by him that carried Jacin. Would you in such a case respect degrees? Jacin. Say he were noble. Jul. Impossible: th' act's ignoble. The Bee can breed No poison, though it suck the juice of hemlock. Jacin. Say a king should do it; were the act less done, By the greater power? does majesty Extenuate a crime? Jul. Augment it rather. Jacin. Say then that Roderick, your king and master, To quit the honors you are bringing home, Had ravish'd your Jacinta. Jul. Who has sent A Fury in this foul-fair shape to vex me? I ha' seen that face methinks yet know it not : How darest thou speak this treason 'gainst my king? By this, he had been in hell: Roderick a Tarquin! Jacin. Yes, and thy daughter (had she done her part) Should be the second Lucrece. View me well: I am Jacinta. Jul. Ha! Jacin. The king my ravisher. Jul. The king thy ravisher! oh unkingly sound. He dares not sure; yet in thy sullied eyes I read a tragic story. Antonio, Alonzo, and other Officers, enter. Jul. O noble friends, Our wars are ended, are they not? All. They are, Sir. Jul. But Spain has now begun a civil war, And to confound me only. See you my daughter? She |