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And man to cut him off, 'tis no injustice.
Thanks, thanks, for this most unexpected nobleness.

[The Colonel is disurmed. 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 casnists 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 than old Rowley or Middleton if they were living.

ALL'S

ALL's LOST BY LUST: A TRAGEDY. BY

WILLIAM ROWLEY.

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,
Beyond our military discipline,
Death shall divide him from us : fetch her in.
I have myself a Daughter, on whose face
But thinking, I must needs be pitiful :
And when I ha' told my conquest to my King,
My poor girl then shall know, how for her sake
I did one pious act :

Servant returns with Jacinta veiled.

Is this the creature ?
Sero. Yes, my Lord, and a sad one.
Jul. Leave us. A sad one!
The down-cast look calls up compassion in me,
A corse going to the grave looks not more deadly.
Why kneel'st thou ? art thou wrong'd by any Soldier ?
Rise : for this honor is not due to 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 ?
Jacin. A great Commander.
Jul. Under me?
Jacin. Above you.

Jui.

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.
Will make you mindful of a father's love :
For such my injuries must exact from you,
As you would for your own.

Jul. And so they do;
For whilst I see thee kneeling, I think of my Jacinta.

Jacin. Say your Jacinta then, chaste as the rose
Coming on sweetly in the springing bud,
And ne'er felt heat, to spread the summer sweet;
But, to increase and multiply it more,
Did to itself keep in its own perfume ;
Say that some rapine hand had pluck'd the bloom, 48
Jacinta, like that flower, and ravish'd her,
Defiling her white lawn of chastity
With ugly blacks of lust : what would you do?

Jul. O'tis too hard a question to resolve,
Without a solemn council held within
Of man's best understanding faculties :
There must be love, and fatherhood, and grief,
And rage, and many passions; and they must all
Beget a thing callid vengeance : but they must sit upon't.

Jacin.

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Jacin. Say this were done by him that carried
The fairest seeming face of friendship to yourself.

Jul. We should fall out.
Jacin. Would you in such a case respect degrees ?
Jul. I know not that.
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 ? Durst any man in the world bring me this lye, 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 lias now begun a civil war,
And to confound me only. See you my daughter?

She

She sounds the trumpet which draws forth my sword
To be reveng'd.

Alon. On whom? speak loud your wrongs;
Digest your choler into temperance;
Give your considerate thoughts the upper hand
In your hot passions, 'twill assuage the swelling
Of your big heart: if you have injuries done you,
Revenge them, and we second you.

Jacin. Father, dear father.
Jul. Daughter, dear daughter.
Jacin. Why do you kneel to me, Sir?

Jul. To ask thee pardon that I did beget thee.
I brought thee to a shame, stains all the way
'Twixt earth and Acheron : not all the clouds
(The skies' large canopy) could they drown the

seas With a perpetual inundation, Can wash it ever out: leave me, I pray.

(Falls down: Alon. His fighting passions will be o'er anon, And all will be at peace.

Ant. Best in my judgment
We wake him with the sight of his won honors.
Call up the army, and let them present
His prisoners to him ; such a sight as that
Will brook no sorrow near it.
Jul. 'Twas a good doctor that prescribed that

physic.
I'll be your patient, Sir; shew me my soldiers,
And my new honors won: I will truly weigh them
With my full griefs, they may perhaps o'ercome.

Alon. Why, now there's hope of his recovery.

Jul. Jacinta welcome, thou art my child still :
No forced stain of lust can alienate
Our consanguinity.

Jacin. Dear father,
Recollect your noble spirits ; conquer grief,

The

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