Think on't:-be careful of your charge, Theophilus ;

Sapritius, be you my daughter's guardian.
Your company I wish, confederate princes,
In our Dalmatian wars, which finished
With victory I hope, and Maximinus,
Our brother and copartner in the empire,
At my request won to confirm as much,
The kingdoms I took from you we'll restore,
And make you greater than you were before.
[Exeunt all but Antoninus and Macrinus.
Anton. Oh, I am lost for ever! lost, Macrinus !
The anchor of the wretched, hope, forsakes me,
And with one blast of Fortune all my light
Of happiness is put out.

Mac. You are like to those

That are ill only, 'cause they are too well;
That, surfeiting in the excess of blessings,
Call their abundance want. What could you wish,
That is not fall'n upon you? honour, greatness,
Respect, wealth, favour, the whole world for a
dower;

And with a princess, whose excelling form
Exceeds her fortune.

Anton. Yet poison still is poison,

Though drunk in gold; and all these flattering glories

To me, ready to starve, a painted banquet,
And no essential food. When I am scorch'd
With fire, can flames in any other quench me?
What is her love to me, greatness, or empire,
That am slave to another, who alone
Can give me ease or freedom?

Mac. Sir, you point at

Your dotage on the scornful Dorothea :
Is she, though fair, the same day to be named

With best Artemia? In all their courses,

Wise men propose their ends with sweet
Artemia,

There comes along pleasure, security,
Usher'd by all that in this life is precious:
With Dorothea (though her birth be noble,
The daughter to a senator of Rome,
By him left rich, yet with a private wealth,
And far inferiour to yours) arrives

The emperor's frown, which, like a mortal plague,

Speaks death is near; the princess' heavy scorn, Under which you will shrink; your father's fury,

Which to resist, even piety forbids :

And but remember that she stands suspected
A favourer of the Christian sect; she brings
Not danger, but assured destruction with her.
This truly weigh'd, one smile of great Artemia
Is to be cherish'd, and preferr'd before
All joys in Dorothea: therefore leave her.

Anton. In what thou think'st thou art most
wise, thou art

Grossly abused, Macrinus, and most foolish.
For any man to match above his rank,
Is but to sell his liberty. With Artemia
I still must live a servant; but enjoying
Divinest Dorothea, I shall rule,

Rule as becomes a husband: for the danger,
Or call it, if you will, assured destruction,
I slight it thus.-If, then, thou art my friend,
As I dare swear thou art, and wilt not take
A governor's place upon thee,' be my helper.

2 Under which you will shrink;] So all the old copies. Modern editors incorrectly, and unmetrically read:

Under which you'll sink, &c.

3 A governor's place upon thee.] From the Latin: ne sis mihi

tutor.

Mac. You know I dare, and will do any thing; Put me unto the test.

Anton. Go then, Macrinus,

To Dorothea; tell her I have worn,

In all the battles I have fought, her figure,
Her figure in my heart, which, like a deity,
Hath still protected me. Thou can'st speak well,
And of thy choicest language spare a little,
To make her understand how much I love her,
And how I languish for her. Bear these jewels,
Sent in the way of sacrifice, not service,
As to my goddess : all lets * thrown behind me,
Or fears that may deter me, say, this morning
I mean to visit her by the name of friendship:
-No words to contradict this.

Mac I am yours :

And, if my travail this way be ill spent,
Judge not my readier will by the event. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENEI.

A Room in Dorothea's House.

Enter SPUNGIUS, and HIRCIUS."

Spun. Turn Christian! Would he that first tempted me to have my shoes walk upon Christian soles, had turn'd me into a capon; for I am

4

All lets thrown behind me,] i. e. All impediments. So in the Mayor of Quinborough:

"Hope, and be sure I'll soon remove the let

،، That stands between thee and thy glory.”

5 Very few of our old English plays are free from these dialogues of low wit and buffoonery: 'twas the vice of the age;

sure now, the stones of all my pleasure, in this fleshly life, are cut off.

Hir. So then, if any coxcomb has a galloping desire to ride, here's a gelding, if he can but sit him.

Spun. I kick, for all that, like a horse ;-look else.

Hir. But that is a kickish jade, fellow Spungius. Have not I as much cause to complain as thou hast? When I was a pagan, there was an infidel punk of mine, would have let me come upon trust for my curvetting: a pox on your Christian cockatrices, they cry, like poulterers' wives:-No money, no coney.

Spun. Bacchus, the god of brew'd wine and sugar, grand patron of rob-pots, upsy-freesy nor is Massinger less free from it than his cotemporaries. To defend them is impossible, nor shall I attempt it. They are of this use, that they mark the taste, display the manners, and shew us what was the chief delight and entertainment of our forefathers. COXETER.

It should, however, be observed, in justice to our old plays, that few, or rather none of them, are contaminated with such detestable ribaldry as the present. To "low wit," or indeed to wit of any kind, it has not the slightest pretension; being, in fact, nothing more than a loathsome sooterkin engendered of filth and dulness. That Massinger is not free from dialogues of low wit and buffoonery (though certainly, notwithstanding Coxeter's assertion, he is much more so than his contemporaries), may readily be granted; but the person who, after perusing this execrable trash, can imagine it to bear any resemblance to his style and manner, must have read him to very little purpose. It was 'assuredly written by Decker, as was the rest of this act, in which there is much to approve with respect to this scene, and every other in which the present speakers are introduced, I recommend them to the reader's supreme scorn and contempt; if he pass them entirely over, he will lose little of the story, and nothing of his respect for the author. I have carefully corrected the text in innumerable places, but given it no farther consideration. I repeat my entreaty that the reader would reject it altogether.

tipplers, and super-naculum takers; this Bacchus, who is head warden of Vintners'-hall, ale-conner, mayor of all victualling-houses, the sole liquid benefactor to bawdy houses; lanceprezade to red noses, and invincible adelantado over the armado of pimpled, deep-scarleted, rubified, and carbuncled faces

Hir. What of all this?

Spun. This boon Bacchanalian skinker, did I make legs to.

Hir. Scurvy ones, when thou wert drunk.

Spun. There is no danger of losing a man's ears by making these indentures; he that will not now and then be Calabingo, is worse than a Calamoothe. When I was a pagan, and kneeled to this Bacchus, I durst out-drink a lord; but your Christian lords out-bowl me. I was in hope to lead a sober life, when I was converted; but, now amongst the Christians, I can no sooner stagger out of one alehouse, but I reel into another: they have whole streets of nothing but drinking-rooms, and drabbing-chambers, jumbled together.

Hir. Bawdy Priapus, the first schoolmaster that taught butchers how to stick pricks in flesh, and make it swell, thou know'st, was the only ningle that I cared for under the moon; but, since I left him to follow a scurvy lady, what with her praying and our fasting, if now I come to a wench, and offer to use her any thing hardly (telling her, being a Christian, she must endure), she presently handles me as if I were a clove, and cleaves me with disdain, as if I were a calf's head.

Spun. I see no remedy, fellow Hircius, but that thou and I must be half pagans, and half Christians; for we know very fools that are Christians