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And give it, at next meeting, to a mistress :
She 'il thank him for 't perhaps.

(Casts the ring before ITHOCLES, who takes it up.
Ame. The ring, sir, is
The princess's; I could have took it up.
Ith. Learn manners, prithee.-To the blessed

Upon my knees- [Kneels and offers it to CALANTHA
Near. You are saucy.

Cal. This is pretty!
I am, belike, “a mistress"-wondrous pretty.
Let the man keep his fortune, since he found it;
He's worthy on't. On, cousin !

[Exeunt NEAR. CAL. CHRIS. and Phil.
Ith. [to Ame.) Follow, spaniel ;
I'll force you to a fawning else.
Ame. You dare not.

[Exit. Arm. My lord, you were too forward.

Ith. Look ye, uncle,
Some such there are, whose liberal contents
Swarm without care in every sort of plenty;
Who, after full repasts, can lay them down
To sleep; and they sleep, uncle: in which silence
Their very dreams present 'em choice of pleasures,
Pleasures (observe me, uncle) of rare object :
Here heaps of gold, there increments of honours,
Now change of garments, then the votes of people ;
Anon varieties of beauties, courting,
In flatteries of the night, exchange of dalliance;
Yet these are still but dreams. Give me felicity
Of which my senses waking are partakers,
A real, visible, material happiness;
And then, too, when I stagger in expectance
Of the least comfort that can cherish life.-
I saw it, sir, I saw it; for it came
From her own hand.

Arm. The princess threw it to you.

Ith. True; and she said-well I remember what Her cousin prince would beg it.

Arm. Yes, and parted
In anger at your taking on’t.

Ith. Penthea,
Oh, thou hast pleaded with a powerful language!
I want a fee to gratify thy merit;
But I will do

Arm. What is 't you say?

Ith. “In anger?” In anger let him part; for could his breath, Like whirlwinds, toss such servile slaves, as lick The dust his footsteps print, into a vapour, It durst not stir a hair of mine: it should not; ! I'd rend it up by th' roots first. To be any thing Calantha smiles on, is to be a blessing More sacred than a petty prince of Argos Can wish to equal, or in worth or title.

Arm. Contain yourself, my lord; Ixion, aiming To embrace Juno, bosom'd but a cloud, And begat Centaurs; 't is a useful moral: Ambition, hatch'd in clouds of mere opinion. Proves but in birth a prodigy.

Ith. I thank you;
Yet, with your license, I should seem uncharitable
To gentler fate, if, relishing the dainties
Of a soul's settled peace, I were so feeble
Not to digest it.

Arm. He deserves small trust.
Who is not privy-counsellor to himself.

Near. Brave me?

Org. Your excellence mistakes his temper;
For Ithocles, in fashion of his mind,
Is beautiful, soft, gentle, the clear mirror
Of absolute perfection!

Ame. Was't your modesty?

1 Your modesty.) An appellative, like “your sovereignty” in Hamleh GIFFORD.

VOL. I.-17

Term'd any of the prince's servants “ spaniel ?"
Your nurse sure taught you other language.

Ith. Language !

Near. A gallant man-at-arms is here; a doctor
In feats of chivalry; blunt and rough-spoken,
Vouchsafing not the fustian of civility,
Which (less) rash spirits style good manners.

Ith. Manners!
Org. No more, illustrious sir, 't is matchless Itho-

Near. You might have understood who I am.

İth. Yes,
I did,—else—but the presence calm'd the affront-
You are cousin to the princess.

Near. To the king too,
A certain instrument that lent supportance
To your colossic greatness—to that king too,
You might have added.

Ith. There is more divinity
In beauty than in majesty.

Arm. O fy, fy!
Near. This odd youth's pride turns heretic in

Sirrah! low mushrooms never rival cedars

[Exeunt NEARCHUS and AMELUS. Ith. Come back,—what pitiful dull thing am I So to be tamely scolded at! come back. Let him come back, and echo once again That scornful sound of mushroom! Painted colts (Like heralds' coats, gilt o'er with crowns and scep

May bait a muzzled lion.'

Årm. Cousin, cousin,
Thy tongue is not thy friend.

Org. In point of honour,

1 Painted colts, &c.] Our old writers used colt (probably from the boisterous gambols of this animal) for a compound of rudeness and folly. The meaning of the text is sufficiently obvious; but it would seem that there is also an allusion to some allegorical representation of this kind in "the painted cloth.”—GIFFORD.

Discretion knows no bounds. Amelus told me 'Twas all about a little ring.

Ith. A ring The princess threw away, and I took upAdmit she threw 't to me, what arm of brass Can snatch it hence ? No; could he grind the hoop To powder, he might sooner reach my heart, Than steal and wear one dust on 't. Orgilus, I am extremely wrong'd.

Org. A y's favour Is not to be so slighted.

Ith. Slighted!

Arm. Quiet These vain unruly passions, which will render you Into a madness. Org. Griefs will have their vent."

Enter TECNICUS, with a scroll.
Arm. Welcome; thou com'st in season, reverend

To pour the balsam of a suppling patience
Into the festering wound of ill-spent fury.
Org. What makes he here?

Tec. The hurts are yet but mortal,
Which shortly will prove deadly. To the king,
Armostes, see in safety thou deliver
This seal'd-up counsel; bid him with a constancy
Peruse the secrets of the god.-0 Sparta,
O Lacedemon! double named, but one
In fate !—when kingdoms reel (mark well my saw)
Their heads must needs be giddy : tell the king,

1 The extraordinary success with which the revengeful spirit of Orgilus is maintained through every scene is highly creditable to the poet's skill. There is not a word spoken by him which does not denote a deep and dangerous malignity, couched in the most sarcastic and rancorous language; and which nothing but the deep repentance and heartfelt sincerity of Ithocles could possibly prevent him from feeling and detecting.–GIFFORD.

2 Ford appears to have adopted the vulgar phraseology of his native place, using mortal in the sense of very great, extreme, &c.-GIFFORD. Compare the concluding distich in Act Iv. Scene I. of "The Lover's Melancholy."

That henceforth he no more must inquire after
My aged head; Apollo wills it so:
I am for Delphos.

Arm. Not without some conference
With our great master ?

Tec. Never more to see him;
A greater prince commands me.--Ithocles,

When Youth is ripe, and Age from time doth part,
The lifeless trunk shall wed the Broken Heart.
Ith. What 's this, if understood ?

Tec. List, Orgilus;
Remember what I told thee long before,
These tears shall be my witness.

Arm. 'Las, good man!
Tec. (Aside to Org.] Let craft with courtesy a

while confer,
Revenge proves its own executioner.

Org. Dark sentences are for Apollo's priests :
I am not Oedipus.

Tec. My hour is come;
Cheer up the king; farewell to all.-0 Sparta,
O Lacedemon!

Arm. If prophetic fire
Have warm'd this old man's bosom, we might construe
His words to fatal sense.

Ith. Leave to the powers
Above us the effects of their decrees;
My burthen lies within me: servile fears
Prevent no great effects.—Divine Calantha!
Arm. The gods be still propitious.

[Exeunt ITHOCLES and ARMOSTES. Org. Something oddly The bookman prated, yet he talk'd it weeping;

Let craft with courtesy a while confer,

Revenge proves its own executioner. Con it again ;-for what? it shall not puzzle me; 'Tis dotage of a withered brain.-Penthea Forbade me not her presence; I may see her, And gaze my fill. Why, see her then I may, When, if I faint to speak-I must be silent." (Exit.'

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