How you can answer him that 's dead, when he Shall charge your timorous soul for this contempt To nature and religion, to break

His last bequest, and breath, that seal'd your blessings?

Car. These are fine fancies.

Fer. (Returns the will.) Here, and may it prosper,
Where my good father meant it; I'm o'ercome.
Forgive me, and enjoy it.
[Is going.

His father RAMIRES (supposed acad) appears above, with Felisarda.
Ram. Fernando, stay.

Fer. Ha! my father and Felisarda?

[Kneels.

Are they both dead ?—I did not think
To find thee in this pale society

Of ghosts so soon.

Fel. I am alive, Fernando,

And Don Ramires still thy living father.

Fran. You may believe it, sir; I was o' the counsel. Car. Men thought you dead.

Ram. It lay within

The knowledge of Francisco and some few,
By this device to advance my younger son
To a marriage with Jacinta, sir, and try
Fernando's piety and his mistress' virtue;

Which I have found worth him, and my acceptance.
With her I give thee what thy birth did challenge:
Receive thy Felisarda.

Fer. 'Tis a joy

So flowing, it drowns all my faculties;

My soul will not contain, I fear, but lose,
And leave me in this ecstasy.

THE TRAITOR, A TRAGEDY :

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

BY SOME SAID TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN BY ONE RIVERS, A JESUIT.

SCIARRAH, whose life is forfeited, has offer of pardon, conditionally, that he bring his sister AMIDEA to consent to the Prince's unlawful suit. He jestingly tries her affection.

Sci.

if thou couldst redeem me

With anything but death, I think I should
Consent to live.

Amid. Nothing can be too precious

To save a brother, such a loving brother
As you have been.

Sci. Death 's a devouring gamester,

And sweeps up all ;-what think'st thou of an eye?

Couldst thou spare one, and think the blemish recompens❜d

To see me safe with t' other? or a hand?

This white hand, that has so often

With admiration trembled on the lute,

Till we have pray'd thee leave the strings awhile,
And laid our ears close to thy ivory fingers,
Suspecting all the harmony proceeded
From their own motions without the need
Of any dull or passive instrument—
No, Amidea, thou shalt not bear one scar
To buy my life; the sickle shall not touch
A flower that grows so fair upon his stalk;
I would live, and owe my life to thee,
So 'twere not bought too dear.

Amid. Do you believe I should not find

The way to heaven, were both mine eyes thy ransom ?

I shall climb up those high and rugged cliffs
Without a hand.

[My transcript breaks off here. Perhaps what follows was of less value; or perhaps I broke off, as I own I have sometimes done, to leave in my readers a relish and an inclination to explore for themselves the genuine fountains of these old dramatic delicacies.]

CHANGES, OR LOVE IN A MAZE:
A COMEDY:

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

Excess of epithets, enfeebling to Poetry. Friend. Master Caperwit, before you read, pray tell me, have your verses any adjectives?

Caperwit. Adjectives! would you have a poem without adjectives?

They are the flowers, the grace of all our language:
A well-chose epithet doth give new soul

To fainting poesy; and makes every verse
A bride; with adjectives we bait our lines,
When we do fish for gentlewomen's loves,
And with their sweetness catch the nibbling ear
Of amorous ladies; with the music of
These ravishing nouns, we charm the silken tribe,
And make the gallant melt with apprehension
Of the rare word: I will maintain 't against
A bundle of grammarians, in poetry

The substantive itself cannot subsist
Without an adjective.

Friend. But, for all that,

Those words would sound more full, methinks,

that are not

So larded, and if I might counsel you,

You should compose a sonnet clean without them :

A row of stately substantives would march
Like Switzers, and bear all the field before them;
Carry their weight, show fair, like deeds enroll'd,
Not writs, that are first made, and after filled.
Thence first came up the title of blank verse ;—
You know, sir, what blank signifies?-when the

sense

First framed, is tied with adjectives like points,
And could not hold together without wedges:
Hang 't, 'tis pedantic, vulgar poetry;

Let children, when they versify, stick here
And there these peddling words for want of matter.
Poets write masculine numbers.

THE EXAMPLE, A TRAGI-COMEDY : BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

The humour of a wary knight, who sleeps all day, and wakes all night, for security.He calls up his household at midnight.

Plot. Dormant ! why, Dormant ! thou eternal sleeper!

Who would be troubled with these lethargies about him?

Dormant! Are you come, dreamer?

Dormant (entering). Would I were so happy! There's less noise in a steeple, upon a coronationday. Oh, sleep, sleep, though it were a dead one, would be comfortable: your worship might please to let my fellow Old-rat watch, as well as I.

Plot. Old-rat! that fellow is a drone.

Dorm. He has slept this half-hour on the iron chest. Would I were in my grave, to take a nap! death would do me a courtesy, I should be at rest, and hear no noise of "Dormant !"

Plot. Ha! what 's the matter?

Dorm. Nothing but a yawn, sir; I do all that I can to keep myself waking.

Plot. 'Tis done considerately; this heavy dullness
Is the disease of souls; sleep in the night?

Dorm. Shall I wake my fellow Old-rat? he is refreshed.

Plot. Do, but return you with him, I have business for both.

Dorm. To hear us join in opinion of what's o'clock ! They talk of Endymion, now could I sleep three

lives.

Plot. When other men measure the hours with sleep,
[Exit.
Careless of where they are, and whom they trust,
Exposing their condition to danger

Of plots, I wake, and wisely think prevention ;
Night was not made to snore in, but so calm
For our imaginations to be stirring

About the world, this subtle world, this world

Of plots, and close conspiracy: there is

No faith in man, nor woman.-Where's this Dormant ?

Dorm. (re-entering with OLD-RAT.) Here is the sleepy vermin.

Old. It has been day this two hours.

Plot. Then 'tis time for me to go to bed.

Dorm. Would my hour were come once!

Plot. Keep out daylight, and set up a fresh taper. Dorm. By that time we have dined, he 'll have slept his first sleep.

Old. And after supper call for his breakfast.
Plot. You 're sure 'tis morning?

Dorm. As sure as I am sleepy.