Amin. Why, who has done thee wrong? Name me the man, and by thyself I swear, Thy yet-unconquer'd self, I will revenge thee. 19 -A maidenhead, Amintor, Evad. Now I shall try thy truth. If thou dost love me, [me: Amin. I will not swear, sweet love, Evad. I would, thou would'st. Why, it is thou that wrong'st me; I hate thee; Amin. If I should know that, I should The man you hated. Evad. Kñow it then, and do't. Amin. Oh, no; what look soe'er thou shalt To try my faith, I shall not think thee false: Evad. A maidenhead, Amintor, Amin. Sure, she raves. This cannot be Thy natural temper. Shall I call thy maids? Amin. Will you not lie with me to-night? Amin. Hereafter! yes, I do. Evad. You are deceiv'd. Put off amazement, and with patience mark At my years?] Mr. Rhymer, (in his Tragedies of the last age consider'd and examin'd by the practice of the ancients) not without justice exclaims against the effrontery and impudence of Evadne's character. But as the colouring of his critical reflections is generally so gross and glaring, I shall refer those readers, who have curiosity enough, to his book, without quoting from him on this subject. Mr. Theobald. Mr. Theobald allows the justice of Mr. Rhymer's exclamation at the effrontery and impudence of Evadne's character; as if the poets were not as sensible of it as Mr. Rhymer, and had not sufficiently punished her for it. The anger of these gentlemen at the character, is the very passion designed to be raised by it; but they mistook the object of their anger, and were as much in the wrong as an audience would be, who were violently angry with a good player for representing Macbeth, Iago, or Richard, as such consummate villains. The questions which a critic should ask are, whether the character is natural? and whether proper for the stage or not? As to the first; Nature, we fear, gives but too many sad examples of such effrontery in women, who, when abandoned to their vices, are observed to be sometimes more reprobate in them than the worst of men. Beside this, there is a remarkable beauty in the effrontery and haughtiness of Evadne's character; she has a family likeness to her brother; she is a female Melantius depraved by vicious love. And if there are any of her expressions which seem now too gross for the stage, it is sufficient to say, they were far from being thought gross in the age they were wrote. Mr. Seward. Much in support of this observation may be seen in Mr. Seward's preface. Knows nothing truer: 'tis not for a night, I sooner will find out the beds of snakes, Letting them curl themselves about my limbs, Than sleep one night with thee. This is not feign'd, Nor sounds it like the coyness of a bride. Amin. Is flesh so earthly to endure all this? Are these the joys of marriage? Hymen, keep This story (that will make succeeding youth Neglect thy ceremonies) from all ears; Let it not rise up, for thy shame and mine, To after-ages: We will scorn thy laws, If thou no better bless them. Touch the heart In praise of thee; we will adopt us sons; Evad. Do you invent the form: Amin. I know too much. 'Would I had doubted still! Was ever such a marriage-night as this! Is there a third? Why is this night so calm? 20 Evad. This rage will do no good. Amin. Evadne, hear me: Thou hast ta'en an oath, But such a rash one, that, to keep it, were Worse than to swear it: Call it back to thee; 20 -Why is this night so calm? Such vows as those never ascend the Heav'n; That men call'd fair and virtuous in this isle, And make me careful, lest the sudden change Evad. When I call back this oath, The pains of hell environ me. [to bed! Undo this wicked oath, or on thy flesh Ev'ry ill-sounding word, or threat'ning look, Amin. Have you your champions? [bear Both. But it was the folly of thy youth man. the Why does not Heaven speak in thunder to us?] The Poets seem manifestly to have had in their eye this passage of Seneca, in his Hippolytus. Amin. Do not wrong me so. Yes, if his body were a pois'nous plant, Evad. Why, it is the king. Amin The king! Evad. What will you do now? Evad. What did he make this match for, Amin. Oh, thou hast nam'd a word, that All thoughts revengeful! In that sacred name, man Dares lift his hand against it? Let the gods And haste so to my bed? I am no virgin. Amin. What devil put it in thy fancy, then, To marry me? Evad. Alas, I must have one To father children, and to bear the name Amin. What a strange thing am I! Amin. Why, shew it then in this: Evad. I must have one To fill thy room again, if thou wert dead; Amin. These strange and sudden injuries have fall'n So thick upon me, that I lose all sense Nor is it aught, if from the censuring world Know I conceive he wrongs me; then mine Will thrust me into action, tho' 21 my flesh Evad. Fear not; I will do this. [tonly Evad. I am content. Amin. Down all the swellings of my When we walk thus entwin'd, let all eyes see [Exeunt. Tho' my nature, says Amintor, 21 That my flesh, &c.] The sense plainly requires tho’. it.' Be careful, &c.] Thus Mr. Theobald prints these lines, preferring the word left (which he found in no edition but the first) to lost. He has, as appears by his note, misunderstood the whole passage; the obvious meaning of which is, I have so totally given up the desire of consummating our nuptials, that, I resolve, even the regal power should not induce me to partake your bed now, as the king has dishonour'd you.' Either word will make sense, have left meaning have departed from, got rid of. Mr. Theobald's explanation is, I have one desire left; for it is not his crown should buy me to thy bed, now I resolve, (i. e. am resolved, ascertained,) that he has dishonoured thee. The desire is, to be careful of her credit, and sin close.' Had this been our Author's meaning, they surely would not have so glaringly bid defiance to grammar, as thus wantonly to use an active verb passively; we say wantonly, because, while the use of it embarrasses the sense, it does not in the least assist the poetry; to which I'm resolv'd would have been fully as agreeable; and, besides, it is most probable they would have said, 'Tis not his crown Shall buy me to thy bed, now I'm convinc'd He has dishonour'd thee. We have followed the majority of the editions; to which our principal inducement was, that, as the word last appears so early as 1622, it was probably a correction by Mr. Fletcher. Enter Aspatia, Antiphila and Olympias.23 Asp. Away, you are not sad; force it no further. [colour Good gods, how will you look! Such a full Young bashful brides put on. Sure, you are new married! Ant. Yes, madam, to your grief. Go learn to love first; learn to lose yourselves; Thou hast an easy temper, fit for stamp. Asp. Nor you, Antiphila? Ant. Nor 1. Asp. Then, my good girls, be more than women, wise: At least, be more than I was; and be sure You credit any thing the light gives light to, Before a man. Rather believe the sea Weeps for the ruin'd merchant, when he roars; Rather, the wind courts but the pregnant sails, When the strong cordage cracks; rather, the sun Comes but to kiss the fruit in wealthy Autumn, When all falls blasted. If you needs must love, (Fore'd by ill fate) take to your maiden bosoms Two dead-cold aspicks,25 and of them make lovers: They cannot flatter, nor forswear; one kiss That down-cast of thine eye, Olympias, And then thou art a piece expressing fully The Carthage queen, when, from a cold searock, Full with her sorrow, she ty'd fast her eyes To the fair Trojan ships; and, having lost them, Just as thine eyes do, down stole a tear. Antiphila, [patia? What would this wench do, if she were AsHere she would stand, till some more pitying god [wench! Turn'd her to marble? 'Tis enough, my Shew me the piece of needlework you wrought. Ant. Of Ariadne, madam? Asp. Yes, that piece. This should be Theseus; h'as a coz'ning face: Asp. Why, then, 'tis well enough. Never [Theseus! You have a full wind, and a false heart, Does not the story say, his keel was split, Or his masts spent, or some kind rock or other Met with his vessel? Ant. Not as I remember. Asp. It should have been so. Could the And not, of all their number, raise a storm? Ant. "Twill wrong the story. Asp. Twill make the story, wrong'd by wanton poets, [lady? Live long, and be believ'd. But where's the Ant. There, madam. [phila; Asp. Fie! you have miss'd it here, AntiYou are much mistaken, wench: These colours are not dull and pale enough As this sad lady's was. Do it by me; 23 Mr. Seward, in his Preface, proposes several alterations in the scene which is now coming on; all of which we intended mentioning, and giving our reasons for dissenting from, as the passages occurred. But as a gentleman, to whose opinion and abilities the greatest respect is due, has remarked to us, that thereby the pages would be so much occupied by notes as would be disagreeable to many readers, when the same observations might appear, with even more propriety, in our Preface, for that we shall reserve them. 24 The double tongue that did it. Make a faith out of the miracles of ancient lovers. And, like me, believe all faithful, and be miserable; Thou hast an easy temper, fit for stamp.] The transposition in these lines is prescribed. (with great propriety) by Mr. Theobald. 25 Two dead cold aspicks.] These must not be two distinct epithets, but one compound adjective with a hyphen,` dead cold, i. e. cold as death: for if the aspicks were dead, how could the kiss of them do any hurt? Mr. Theobald. 26 You shall not go so.] Mr. Seward here restores the verse, by introducing the particle on. 27 And you shall find all true but the wild island.] Ariadne, the daughter of Minos, king of Crete, it is well known, was desperately in love with Theseus. She by the help of a clue ex tricated 28 Suppose I stand upon the sea-beach now, Mine arms thus, and mine hair blown with the wind, Wild as that desart; and let all about me Let them be dry and leafless; let the rocks Asp. I have done. Sit down; and let us Upon that point fix all our eyes; that point there. [ness Make a dull silence, till you feel a sudden sadGive us new souls. Enter Calianax. Cal. The king may do this, and he may not do it: My child is wrong'd, disgrac'd. Well, how now, huswives! What, at your ease? Is this a time to sit still? and work! [you! you in, What, are you grown so resty you want heats?39 We shall have some of the court-boys heat you shortly. Ant. My lord, we do no more than we are charged. It is the lady's pleasure we be thus in grief: She is forsaken. Cal. There's a rogue too; A young dissembling slave! Well, get you in! I'll maul that rascal; h'as out-brav'd me twice: tricated him from the labyrinth to which he was confined; and embark'd with him on his return to Athens: But he ungenerously gave her the drop on the shore of the island Naxos. Aspatia says, her case is in every particular similar, except as to the wild island. Mr. Theobald. 23 Suppose, I stand.] This is one of those passages, where the poets, rapt into a glorious enthusiasm, soar on the rapid wings of fancy. Enthusiasm I would call the very essence of poetry, since, without it, neither the happy conduct of the fable, the justness of characters or scutiinents, nor the utmost harmony of metre, can altogether form the poet. It is the frequency of such noble flights as these, and their amazing rapidity, that sets the immortal Shakespeare above all other dramatic poets; and suffers none of our own nation in any degree to approach him, but Beaumont and Fletcher. Mr. Seward. 29 And let all about me Be teares of my story.] Thus reads the oldest copies; from which Mr. Theobald alters the passage to be teachers of my story. The second edition, printed in Fletcher's time, and every other till Mr. Theobald's, exhibit the reading we have adopted. Mr. Theobald's reading, however, coming so near that of the oldest copy, and resembling the manner of our Authors, is extremely plausible. 30 What, are you grown so resty, &c.] The old man, in this allusion, compares these young wenches to lazy, resty mares, that want to be rid so many heats. Mr. Theobald. |