With leaping kids, and with the bleating lambs, And so allays her thirst secure; whilst I Quench my hot sighs with fleetings of my tears.

Ith. The labourer doth eat his coarsest bread, Earn'd with his sweat, and lays him down to sleep;

While every bit I touch turns in digestion

To gall, as bitter as Penthea's curse.

Put me to any penance for my tyranny;
And I will call thee merciful.

Pen. Pray kill me,

Rid me from living with a jealous husband;
Then we will join in friendship, be again
Brother and sister.-Kill me, pray; nay, will
you?

Ith. How does thy lord esteem thee?

Pen. Such an one

As only you have made me; a faith-breaker,
A spotted whore ;-forgive me, I am one-
In act, not in desires, the gods must witness.
Ith. Thou dost bely thy friend.

Pen. I do not, Ithocles;

For she that's wife to Orgilus, and lives
In known adultery with Bassanes,

Is, at the best, a whore. Wilt kill me now?
The ashes of our parents will assume
Some dreadful figure, and appear to charge
Thy bloody guilt, that hast betray'd their name
To infamy, in this reproachful match.

Ith. After my victories abroad, at home
I meet despair; ingratitude of nature

Hath made my actions monstrous: thou shalt stand

A deity, my sister, and be worshipp'd

For thy resolved martyrdom; wrong'd maids
And married wives shall to thy hallow'd shrine
Offer their orisons, and sacrifice

Pure turtles, crown'd with myrtle; if thy pity
Unto a yielding brother's pressure, lend
One finger but to ease it.

Pen. Oh, no more!

Ith. Death waits to waft me to the Stygian banks,

And free me from this chaos of my bondage;
And till thou wilt forgive, I must endure.
Pen. Who is the saint you serve?
Ith. Friendship, or [nearness']

Of birth to any but my sister, durst not
Have mov'd this question; 'tis a secret, sister,
I dare not murmur to myself.

Pen. Let me,

By your new protestations I conjure you,

Partake her name.

Ith. Her name ?-'tis,-'tis-I dare not.
Pen. All your respects are forged.

Ith. They are not.-Peace!

Calantha is--the princess-the king's daughterSole heir of Sparta.-Me, most miserable!

5 Friendship, or [nearness]

Of birth, &c.] A word has been dropt here, and I have taken that which has been suggested, though doubtful of its genuineness; the pointing too seems defective. Ithocles appears to allude to Prophilus, in the first instance. In the next line, for " as a secret," I read, with more confidence, 'tis a secret.

Do I now love thee? for my injuries
Revenge thyself with bravery, and gossip
My treasons to the king's ears, do;-Calantha
Knows it not yet, nor Prophilus, my nearest.
Pen. Suppose you were contracted to her, would
it not

Split even your very soul to see her father
Snatch her out of your arms against her will,
And force her on the prince of Argos?

Ith. Trouble not

The fountains of mine eyes with thine own story; I sweat in blood for't.

Pen. We are reconciled.

Alas, sir, being children, but two branches
Of one stock, 'tis not fit we should divide;
Have comfort, you may find it.

Ith. Yes, in thee;

Only in thee, Penthea mine.

Pen. If sorrows

Have not too much dull'd my infected brain,
I'll cheer invention, for an active strain.

Ith. Mad man!—Why have I wrong'd a maid so excellent?

BASSANES rushes in with a Poniard, followed by PROPHILUS, GRONEAS, HEMOPHIL, and GRAUSIS.

Bass. I can forbear no longer; more, I will not: Keep off your hands, or fall upon my point.Patience is tired,-for, like a slow-paced ass, You ride my easy nature, and proclaim

My sloth to vengeance a reproach, and property.

Ith. The meaning of this rudeness?
Pro. He's distracted.

Pen. Oh, my griev'd lord.

Grau. Sweet lady, come not near him; He holds his perilous weapon in his hand To prick he cares not whom, nor where,—see, see, see!

Bass. My birth is noble: though the popular

blast

Of vanity, as giddy as thy youth,

Hath rear'd thy name up to bestride a cloud,
Or progress in the chariot of the sun;

I am no clod of trade, to lackey pride,
Nor, like your slave of expectation, wait
The baudy hinges of your doors, or whistle
For mystical conveyance to your bed-sports.
Gron. Fine humours! they become him.
Hem. How he stares,

Struts, puffs, and sweats! most admirable lunacy!
Ith. But that I may conceive the spirit of wine
Has took possession of your soberer custom,
I'd say you were unmannerly.

Pen. Dear brother!.

Bass. Unmannerly!-mew, kitling!-smooth

formality

Is usher to the rankness of the blood,

But impudence bears up the train. Indeed, sir,
Your fiery metal, or your springal blaze
Of huge renown, is no sufficient royalty

To print upon my forehead the scorn, "cuckold."

Ith. His jealousy hath robb'd him of his wits; He talks he knows not what.

Bass. Yes, and he knows

To whom he talks; to one that franks his lust In swine-security of bestial incest."

Ith. Ha, devil!

Bass. I will haloo't; though I blush more

To name the filthiness, than thou to act it.

Ith. Monster!

Pro. Sir, by our friendship

Pen. By our bloods!

[Draws his sword.

Will you quite both undo us, brother?

Grau. Out on him!

These are his megrims, firks, and melancholies. Hem. Well said, old touch-hole.

In swine-security, &c.] In this coarse speech Bassanes alludes to the small inclosures, (franks, as distinguished from styes,) in which boars were fattened. As these animals were dangerous when fullfed, it was necessary to shut them up alone. The distinction is not always observed by our old dramatists; but, in general, the extreme of grossness and sensuality is conveyed by the words franked up.

It is not easy to comprehend the character of Bassanes, as the poet has drawn him; and, in truth, it may almost be doubted whether, when he sat down to write, he had fully embodied in his own mind, the person he intended to produce. The gloomy discontent of Penthea at her ill-assorted marriage is evidently not calculated to tranquillize the suspicious terrors of her doting husband; and his sudden transitions from the most frantic jealousy to all the impotence of childish fondness, from wanton outrage to whining and nauseous repentance, may not therefore be thought altogether unnatural: but Ford has also represented him as shrewd, sentimental, and even impassioned: at one period with a mind habitually weak and unsound, and at another, with a vigorous understanding, broken indeed and disjointed, but occasionally exhibiting in its fragments traits of its original strength.