(For 'tis a boy, [and] therefore glory, sir," Your heir shall be a son)

Sor. Damnable monster!

Ann. Nay, an you will not hear, I'll speak no

more.

Sor. Yes speak, and speak thy last,

Ann. A match, a match!

This noble creature was in every part

So angel-like, so glorious, that a woman,
Who had not been but human, as was I,

Would have kneel'd to him, and have begg'd for love.

You! why you are not worthy once to name
His name without true worship, or, indeed,
Unless you kneel'd, to hear another name him.
Sor. What was he call'd?

Ann. We are not come to that;

Let it suffice, that you shall have the glory
To father what so brave a father got.

In brief, had not this chance fall'n out as it doth,
I never had been troubled with a thought

That you had been a creature ;-but for marriage, I scarce dream yet of that.

8

Sor. Tell me his name.

therefore glory, sir,] This is made out by Dodsley from the old copy, which reads, "For 'tis a boy that for glory, sir;" and has all the appearance of being genuine. The insulting and profligate language of this wretched woman, if not assumed, like that of Bianca in Love's Sacrifice, to provoke her husband to destroy her on the spot, is perfectly loathsome and detestable. Well sung the poet

nihil est audacius illis

Deprensis: iram atque animos a crimine sumunt.

Ann. Alas, alas, there's all! will you believe?

Sor. What?

Ann. You shall never know.

Sor. How!

Ann. Never; if

You do, let me curs'd.

Sor. Not know it, strumpet! I'll rip up thy

heart,

And find it there.

Ann. Do, do.

Sor. And with my teeth,

Tear the prodigious letcher joint by joint.
Ann. Ha, ha, ha! the man's merry.

Sor. Dost thou laugh?

Come, whore, tell me your lover, or by truth
I'll hew thy flesh to shreds; who is't?

Ann. Che morte piu dolce che morire per amore?

[Sings. Sor. Thus will I pull thy hair, and thus I'll drag Thy lust be-leper'd body through the dust[Hales her up and down.

Yet tell his name.

Ann. Morendo in grazia dee morire senza dolore.? [Sings. Sor. Dost thou triumph? the treasure of the earth

Morendo in grazia, &c.] This quotation is incorrectly given in the 4to. It has been amended into impiety, for which there is little occasion. We have already seen more than enough to prove that when a woman loses the sense of religion, (and Annabella, like her brother, is a fatalist,) modesty, self-respect, every virtuous, and every amiable feeling speedily follow.

Shall not redeem thee; were there kneeling kings
Did beg thy life, or angels did come down
To plead in tears, yet should not all prevail
Against my rage: dost thou not tremble yet?
Ann. At what? to die! no, be a gallant hang-

man;

I dare thee to the worst: strike, and strike home; I leave revenge behind, and thou shalt feel it.

Sor. Yet tell me ere thou diest, and tell me truly,

Knows thy old father this?

Ann. No, by my life.

Sor. Wilt thou confess, and I will spare thy life? Ann. My life! I will not buy my life so dear. Sor. I will not slack my vengeance.

[Draws his sword.

Enter VASQUES.

Vas. What do you mean, sir?

Sor. Forbear, Vasques; such a damned whore Deserves no pity.

Vas. Now the gods forefend!

And would you be her executioner, and kill her in your rage too? O'twere most unmanlike; she is your wife, what faults have been done by her before she married you, were not against you: alas! poor lady, what hath she committed, which any lady in Italy in the like case would not? sir, you must be ruled by your reason, and not by your fury; that were inhuman and beastly.

Sor. She shall not live.

Vas. Come, she must: you would have her confess the authors of her present misfortunes, I warrant you; 'tis an unconscionable demand, and she should lose the estimation that I, for my part, hold of her worth, if she had done it: why, sir, you ought not, of all men living, to know it. Good şir, be reconciled; alas, good gentlewoman!

Ann. Pish, do not beg for me, I prize my life As nothing; if the man will needs be mad, Why let him take it.

Sor. Vasques, hear'st thou this?

Vas. Yes, and commend her for it;' in this she shews the nobleness of a gallant spirit, and beshrew my heart, but it becomes her rarely.— [Aside to SOR.]-Sir, in any case smother your revenge; leave the scenting out your wrongs to me; be ruled, as you respect your honour, or you marr all.—[Aloud.]—Sir, if ever my service were of any credit with you, be not so violent in your distractions: you are married now; what a triumph might the report of this give to other neglected suitors! 'tis as manlike to bear extremities, as godlike to forgive.

Sor. O Vasques, Vasques, in this piece of flesh, This faithless face of hers, had I laid up

The treasure of my heart. Hadst thou been virtuous,

This odious wretch has no variety in his bloody tricks here is a repetition of the paltry artifice by which Hippolita was deceived; and Putana is subsequently wrought upon much in the same manVasques is fortunate in finding such easy gulls.

ner.

Fair, wicked woman, not the matchless joys
Of life itself, had made me wish to live

With any saint but thee: deceitful creature,
How hast thou mock'd my hopes, and in the

shame

Of thy lewd womb even buried me alive!
I did too dearly love thee.

Vas. This is well; follow this temper with some passion; be brief and moving, 'tis for the purpose. [Aside to SOR. Sor. Be witness to my words thy soul and

thoughts;

And tell me, didst not think that in my heart
I did too superstitiously adore thee?

Ann. I must confess, I know you lov'd me well.
Sor. And would'st thou use me thus! O Anna-

bella,

Be thou assured, whoe'er the villain was
That thus hath tempted thee to this disgrace,
Well he might lust, but never loved like me.
He doated on the picture that hung out
Upon thy cheeks, to please his humorous eye;
Not on the part I lov'd, which was thy heart,
And, as I thought, thy virtues.

Ann. O, my lord!

These words wound deeper than your sword could do.

Vas. Let me not ever take comfort, but I begin to weep myself, so much I pity him; why, madam, I knew, when his rage was over-past, what it would come to.