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Fath. 'Tis the old tempest.

King. Did not we
Appease all horrors that look'd wild upon him?

Fath. You drest his wounds, I must confess, but made
No cure; they bleed afresh : pardon me, sir;
Although your conscience have closed too soon,
He is in danger, and doth want new surgery :
Though he be right in fame, and your opinion,
He thinks you were unkind.

King. Alas, poor Chabot :
Doth that afflict him ? :

Fath. So much, though he strive
With most resolv'd and adamantine nerves,
As ever human fire in flesh and blood
Forg'd for example, to bear all; so killing
The arrows that you shot were (still, your pardon)
No centaur's blood could rankle so.

King. If this
Be all, I'll cure him. Kings retain
More balsam in their soul, than hurt in anger.

Fath. Far short, sir; with one breath they uncreate :
And kings, with only words, more wounds can make
Than all their kingdom made in balm can heal.
'Tis dangerous to play too wild a descant
On numerous virtue; though it become princes
To assure their adventures made in every thing.
Goodness, confin’d within poor flesh and blood,
Hath but a queazy and still sickly state;
A musical hand should only play on her,
Fluent as air, yet every touch command.

King. No more :
Commend us to the admiral, and say
The king will visit him, and bring health.

Fath. I will not doubt that blessing, and shall move Nimbly with this command.

The King visits the Admiral.
King. Admiral. His wife, and father.
King. No ceremonial knees :

nest Chabot;

Give me thy heart, my dear, my honest Chabot ;
And yet in vain I challenge that; 'tis here
Already in my own, and shall be cherish'd
With care of my best life: no violence
Shall ravish it from my possession;
Not those distempers that infirm my blood
And spirits, shall betray it to a fear :
When time and nature join to dispossess
My body of a cold and languishing breath;
No stroke in all my arteries, but silence
In every faculty; yet dissect me then,
And in my heart the world shall read thee living ;
And, by the virtue of thy name writ there,
That part of me shall never putrify,
When I am lost in all my other dust.

Adm. You too much honour your poor servant, sir;
My heart despairs so rich a monument,
But when it dies

King. I wo' not hear a sound
Of any thing that trenched upon death.
He speaks the funeral of my crown, that prophesies
So unkind a fate : we'll live and die together.
And by that duty, which hath taught you hitherto
All loyal and just services, I charge thee,
Preserve thy heart for me, and thy reward,
Which now shall crown thy merits.

Adm. I have found
A glorious harvest in your favour, sir;
And by this overflow of royal grace,
All my deserts are shadows and fly from me :
I have not in the wealth of my desires
Enough to pay you now

King. Express it in some joy then.

Adm. I will strive
To shew that pious gratitude to you, but

King. But what ?

Adm. My frame hath lately, sir, been tane a pieces, And but now put together; the least force


Of mirth will shake and unjoint all my reason.
Your patience, royal sir.

King. I'll have no patience,
If thou forget the courage of a man.

Adm. My strength would flatter me.

King. Physicians,
Now I begin to fear his apprehension.
Why how is Chabot's spirit fall'n?
Adm. Who would not wish to live to serve your good-

Stand from me. You betray me with your fears.
The plummets may fall off that hang upon
My heart, they were but thoughts at first; or if
They weigh me down to death, let not my eyes
Close with another object than the king.

King. In a prince
What a swift executioner is a frown,
Especially of great and noble souls !
How is it with my Philip ?

Adm. I must beg
One other boon.

King. Upon condition
My Chabot will collect his scatter'd spirits,
And be himself again, he shall divide
My kingdom with me.

Adm. I observe
A fierce and killing wrath engender'd in you;
For my sake, as you wish me strength to serve you,
Forgive your chancellor ;'ll let not the story
Of Philip Chabot, read hereafter, draw
A tear from any family ; I beseech
Your royal mercy on his life, and free
Remission of all seizure upon his state.
I have no comfort else.

King. Endeavour
But thy own health; and pronounce general pardon
To all through France.


312 Chabot's accuser,

Adm. Sir, I must kneel to thank you ;
It is not seald else. Your blest hand: live happy,
May all you trust have no less faith than Chabot.

(Dies.) Wife. His heart is broken.

Father. And kneeling, sir;
As his ambition were in death to shew
The truth of his obedience.



Sebastiano invites Antonio to Avero Castle.

Seb. The noble courtesies I have receiv'd
At Lisbon, worthy friend, so much engage me,
That I must die indebted to your worth,
Unless you mean to accept what I have studied,
Although but partly, to discharge the sum
Due to your honour'd love.

Ant. How now, Sebastiano, will you forfeit
The name of friend, then? I did hope our love
Had out-grown compliment.

Seb. I spake my thoughts ;
My tongue and heart are relatives ; I think

I have

113 Shirley claims a place amongst the worthies of this period, not so much for any transcendent genius in himself, as that he was the last of a great race, all of whom spoke nearly the same language, and had a set of moral feelings and notions in common. A new language and quite a new turn of tragic and comic interest came in with the Restoration.

I have deservd no base opinion from you;
I wish not only to perpetuate
Our friendship, but t exchange that common name
Of friend for

Ant. What? take heed, do not prophane :
Wouldst thou be more than friend it is a name
Virtue can only answer to: couldst thou
Unite into one all goodness whatsoe'er
Mortality can boast of, thou shalt find
The circle narrow-bounded to contain
This swelling treasure ; every good admits
Degrees, but this being so good, it cannot :
For he's no friend is not superlative.
Indulgent parents, brethren, kindred, tied
By the natural flow of blood, alliances,
And what you can imagine, is too light
To weigh with name of friend: they execute
At best but what a nature prompts them to ;
Are often less than friends, when they remain
Our kinsmen still : but friend is never lost.

Seb. Nay then, Antonio, you mistake; I mean not
To leave off friend, which, with another title,
Would not be lost. Come then, I'll tell you, sir;
I would be friend and brother : thus our friendship
Shall, like a diamond set in gold, not lose
His sparkling, but shew fairer: I have a pair
Of sisters, which I would commend, but that
I might seem partial, their birth and fortunes
Deserving noble love; if thou be'st free
From other fair engagement, I would be proud
To speak them worthy: come, shalt go and see them..
I would not beg them suitors ; fame hath spread
Through Portugal their persons, and drawn to Avero
Many affectionate gallants.

Ant. Catalina and Berinthia.
Seb. The same..

Ant. Report speaks loud their beauties, and no less
Virtue in either. Well, I see you strive
To leave no merit where you mean to honour.

I cannot

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