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 Forg'd for example, to bear all; so killing 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: Commend us to the admiral, and say Fath. I will not doubt that blessing, and shall move The King visits the Admiral. King. Admiral. His wife, and father. King. No ceremonial knees: Give me thy heart, my dear, my honest Chabot; And in my heart the world shall read thee living; 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; King. I wo' not hear a sound Of any thing that trenched upon death. He speaks the funeral of my crown, that prophesies And by that duty, which hath taught you hitherto Preserve thy heart for me, and thy reward, Adm. I have found A glorious harvest in your favour, sir; All my deserts are shadows and fly from me : 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 Of mirth will shake and unjoint all my reason. King. I'll have no patience, If thou forget the courage of a man. Adm. My strength would flatter me. 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 ness? Stand from me. You betray me with your fears. King. In a prince What a swift executioner is a frown, Adm. I must beg One other boon. King. Upon condition My Chabot will collect his scatter'd spirits, My kingdom with me. Adm. I observe A fierce and killing wrath engender'd in you; Of Philip Chabot, read hereafter, draw A tear from any family; I beseech King. Endeavour But thy own health; and pronounce general pardon 112 Chabot's accuser. Adm. Adm. Sir, I must kneel to thank you; It is not seal'd else. Your blest hand: live happy, Oh! Wife. His heart is broken. Father. And kneeling, sir; As his ambition were in death to shew The truth of his obedience. (Dies.) Seb. The noble courtesies I have receiv'd Ant. How now, Sebastiano, will you forfeit Seb. I spake my thoughts; My tongue and heart are relatives; I think I have *13 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 deserv'd no base opinion from you; I wish not only to perpetuate Our friendship, but t' exchange that common name Ant. What? take heed, do not prophane : mean not ; Seb. Nay then, Antonio, you mistake; I From other fair engagement, I would be proud 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 |