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In vows of combination there's a grace,
That shews th' intention in the outward face.
Look chearfully, or I expect no league.

Sax. First give me leave to view awhile the person
Of this Hermit-Austria, view him well.
Is he not like my brother Roderic?

Aust. He's like him. But I heard, he lost his life
Long since in Persia by the Sophy's wars.

Her. I heard so much, my Lord. But that report
Was purely feign’d; spread by my erring tongue,
As double as my heart, when I was young.
I am that Roderic, that aspired thy throne;
That vile false brother, that with rebel breath,
Drawn sword, and treach’rous heart, threaten'd your death.

Sax. My brother !-nay then i' faith, old John lay by
Thy sorrowing thoughts ; turn to thy wonted vein,
And be mad John of Saxony again.
Mad Roderic, art alive?-my mother's son,
Her joy, and her last birth -oh, she conjured me
To use thee thus ; [embracing him] and yet I banished thee.—
Body o' me! I was unkind, I know;
But thou deserv'dst it then : but let it

Say thou wilt leave this life, thus truly idle,
And live a Statesman ; thou shalt share in reign,
Commanding all but me thy Sovereign.

Her. I thank your Highness; I will think on it:
But for my sins this sufferance is more fit.

Sax. Tut, tittle tattle, tell not me of sin.-
Now, Austria, once again thy princely hand :
I'll look thee in the face, and smile; and swear,
If any of my sons have wrong'd thy child,
I'll help thee in revenging it myself.
But if, as I believe, they mean but honour,
(As it appeareth by these Jousts proclaim'd,)
Then thou shalt be content to name him thine,
And thy fair daughter I'll account as mine.

Aust. Agreed.

Sax. Ah, Austria ! 'twas a world, when you and I
Ran these careers ; but now we are stiff and dry.

Aust. I am glad you are so pleasant, good my Lord.
Sax. 'Twas


old mood : but I was soon turn'd sad.
With over-grieving for this long lost Lad, -
And now the Boy is grown as old as I ;
His very face as full of gravity.

1 By one of the Duke's sons (her Lover) in honour of Lucibel.


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Holding in Capite. First Gent. 'Tis well known I am a Gentleman. My father was a man of 5001 a year, and he held something in capite too.

Second Gent. So does my Lord Something

Foolish Lord. Nay, by my troth, what I hold in capite is worth little or nothing.

[Nathaniel Field. Amends for Ladies,

Act i., Sc. 1.']


Fool's Experience. Page. He that's first a scholar, and next in love, the year after is either an arrant fool or a madman.

Master. How came your knavery by such experience ?

Page. As fools do by news: somebody told me so, and I believe it.

[John Jones. Adrasta, Act i., Sc. 1.

See p. 421.]


Modern Sybarite. ---Softly, ye villains !—the rogues of chairmen have trundled me over some damn'd nutshell or other, that gave me such a jerk, as has half murder'd me.

[Thomas D'Urfey. The Old Mode and the New,

Act i., Sc. 1.]


Spare diet of Spaniards. Spaniard. The air being thin and rarified generally provides us good stomachs.

Englishman. Aye, and the earth little or nothing to satisfy 'em with ; I think a cabbage is a jewel among you.


[See also p. 579.)

[See also p. 586.] VOL. IV. -36


Span. Why, truly a good cabbage is respected. But our people are often very luxurious, they abound very often.

Eng. O no such matter, faith, Spaniard ! 'death, if they get but a piece of beef, they shall hang all the bones out, and write under neath, Here hath been beef eaten, as if 'twere a miracle. And if they get but a lean hen, the feathers shall be spread before the door with greater pride than we our carpets at some princely solemnity.

[Thomas D'Urfey. The Old Mode and the Nev,

Act ii., Sc. 1.]

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Foolish Form.
Servant (to my Lord Stately's Gentleman Usher). Sir, here's
your Lord's footman come to tell you, your Lord's hat is blown
out of his hand.

Lord W. Why did not the footman take it up
Usher. He durst not, my Lord; 'tis above him.
Lord W. Where? a' top of the chimney ?
Usher. Above his office, my

Lord W. How does this fool, for want of solid greatness, swell
with empty ceremony, and fortify himself with outworks! That a
man must dig thro' rubbish to come at an ass.

Crowne. The English Friar, Act i., p. 31.]



Cast Books.
Waiting Maid. I have a new Bible too; and when my Lady
left her Practice of Piety, she gave it me.
[Duke of Newcastle. The Triumphant Widow.

(See page 510), Act iii., p. 41.]



Good at Guessing. Nay, good " Mr. Constable, you are e'en the luckiest at being wise that ever I knew.

[Ibid., Act iv., p. 76.]



Essays at Essays. 1. O eternal blockhead, did you never write Essays ? 2. I did essay to write Essays, but I cannot say I writ Essays.

[Ibid., Act v., p. 81.] 1["Good" is inserted here, though used previously.) '["I" is not in original.]


Hard Words, Indiscerptibility, and Essential Spissitude: words which, though I am no competent judge of, for want of languages, yet I fancy strongly ought to mean nothing.

[Mrs. Aphra Behn (1640-1689). The Dutch Lover. (Epistle to Reader.)]


Scandals to Atheism. --a late learned Doctor ; who, though himself no great assertor of a Deity, yet was observed to be continually persuading this sort of men (the rakehelly blockheaded Infidels about town) of the necessity and truth of our religion ; and being asked how he came to bestir himself so much this way, made answer, that it was because their ignorance and indiscreet debauch made them a Scandal to the Profession of Atheism.



Excuse for being afraid in a Storm. Master. Courage! why what dost thou call courage? Hector himself would not have exchang’d his ten years' siege for our ten days' storm at sea. A Storm ! a hundred thousand fighting men are nothing to it; cities sack'd by fire, nothing. 'Tis a resistless coward, that attacks a man at disadvantage; an unaccountable magic, that first conjures down a man's courage, and then plays the devil over him; and, in fine, it is a Storm!

Mate. Good lack, that it should be all these terrible things, and yet that we should outlive it!

Master. No god-a-mercy to our courages tho', I tell you that now; but like an angry wench, when it had huffed and blusterd itself weary, it lay still again.

[Ibid., Act iii., Sc. 2.)


Dutch Gallantry. Mate. What, beat a woman, Sir ?

. Master. 'Psha, all's one for that; if I am provok’d, anger will have its effects upon whomsoe'er it light: so said Von Tromp, when he took his Mistress a cuff on the ear for finding fault with an ill-fashioned leg he made her. I liked his humour well.

Mrs. Aphra Behn (1640-1689).

The Dutch Lover, Act iii., Sc. 2.]


Dutchman. --sitting at home in the chimney corner, cursing the face of Duke de Alva upon the jugs, for laying an imposition on beer.

[Ibid., Act iii., Sc. 2.'] XIV.

Rake at Church. - -I shall know all, when I meet her in the chapel to-morrow. I am resolved to venture thither, tho' I am afraid the dogs will bark me out again, and by that means let the congregation know how much I am a stranger to the place.

[Thomas D'Urfey. A Virtuous Wife, Act ii., Sc. 1.]


Lying Traveller. You do not believe me then ? the devil take me, if these homebred fellows can be saved : they neither know nor believe half the creation.

[John Lacy (died 1681). Sir Hercules Buffoon,

Act iv., Sc. 2.]


English Beau, contrasted with a French one.

-a true-bred English Beau has indeed the powder, the essence, the toothpick, the snuff-box; and is as idle; but the fault is in the flesh-he has not the motion, and looks stiff under all this. Now a French Fop, like a Poet, is born so, and would be

. known without clothes ; it is in his eyes, his nose, his fingers, his elbows, his heels. They dance when they walk, and sing when they speak. We have nothing in that perfection as abroad; our cuckolds, as well as our grapes, are but half ripened.

[Charles Burnaby (A. 1700). "The Reformed

Wife, Act iv., Sc. 1.]




Fanciful Recipe, prescribed for sick Fancy.
The juice of a lemon that's civil at seasons,

Twelve dancing capers, ten lunatic reasons ;
(See also p. 580.] ?[The next sentence precedes this in the play.)

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