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THE MAD LOVER.

A TRAGI-COMEDY.

The Commendatory Verses by Gardiner, Hills, and Lovelace, ascribe this Play wholly to Fletcher; other writers, to him and Beaumont conjunctively. The first publication of the Mad Lover was in the folio of 1647. We do not know of any alterations having been made in it, nor has it been acted for many years past.

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To find the minds here equal with the men.] So many men so many minds,' is an old saying. It seems here to be implied that one man has many minds.'

2

Fraught. This word generally, in the old books, is used for freight.

ACT I.

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camp

May it disperse itself, and make all happy!
How does the general, the valiant Memnon?
And how his wars, Eumenes? [a soldier,
Eum. The gods have giv'n you, royal Sir,
Better ne'er sought a danger; more approv'd
In way of war, more master of his fortunes,3
Expert in leading 'em; in doing valiant,
In following all his deeds to victories,
And holding Fortune certain there.
King. Oh, soldier,

[neral; 4 Thou speak'st a man indeed; a general geA soul conceiv'd a soldier.

Eum. Ten set battles, Against the strong usurper Diocles, (Whom long experience had begot a leader, Ambition rais'd too mighty) hath your Mem[him, Won, and won gloriously, distress'd and shook Even from the head of all his hopes, to nothing. In three, he beat the thunder-bolt his brother,

3

non

more master of his fortunes,

Expert in leading 'em; in doing valiant, In following all his deeds to victories,

safe,

Forc'd him to wall himself up: There not
[quake,
Shook him with warlike engines like an earth-
"Till like a snail he left his shell, and crawl'd
By night and hideous darkness to destruction:
Disarm'd for ever rising more: Twelve castles,
Some thought impregnable; towns twice as
many;
[mand

Countries, that like the wind knew no com-
But savage wildness, hath this general,
With loss of blood and youth, thro' storms
and tempests,

Call'd to your fair obedience.
King. Oh, my soldier,

[drums That thou wert now within my arms! What Are those that beat, Eumenes? [Drums. Eum. His, my sov'reign;

Himselfi' th' head of conquest drawing home,
An old man now, to offer up his glories,
And endless conquest, at your shrine.
King. Go all,

And entertain him with all ceremony;
We'll keep him now a courtier.

Eum. Sir, a strange one;

Pray God his language bear it. By my life, Sir, He knows no compliment, nor curious casting Of words into fit places ere he speak 'em :

He can say, Fight well, fellow, and I'll

thank thee:

And holding Fortune certain there.] I shall now return to meer verbal criticisms. By the reading and pointing above, the first step of a most beautiful climax is taken away and placed to a former sentence, where it is quite unnecessary: The four qualifications of a great general are strongly marked out: Expert in leading on; valiant in the combat; prudent in guiding his valour to victory, and in making his victories decisive. I make the pause fuller at the end of the first line, and put in the second what to me bids fairest for having been the original; though it might have heen

Expert in leading, and in doing valiant.

Seward.

Mr. Seward reads,

more master of his fortunes;

Expert in leading on; in doing valiant ;
In following all his deeds, &c.

more master of his fortunes.

Expert in leading 'em ] Surely this, which is the old reading, is the right reading. What can prove a man more master of his fortunes, than his being expert in leading 'em? Besides that, Mr. Seward's pointing mars the syntax, and deprives the two last lines of the word valiant, that governs them:

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Here a repetition of valiant is understood, as of the word more in the first two lines: 'Ne'er was a soldier more master of his fortunes, [more] expert in leading 'em; valiant in doing, [valiant] in following his deeds on to victory, and in maintaining it when acquired."

A general general.] i. e. A complete general. The latter editions read, a general's general.

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Enter Memnon, with a train of courtiers and
soldiers, two Captains, Chilax, &c.
Valiant and wise are twins, Sir.-Welcome,
welcome!

Welcome, my fortunate and famous general!
High in thy prince's favour, as in fame,
Welcome to peace, and Paphos!

Mem. Thank your grace!

[sweetness And 'would to God iny dull tongue had that To thank you as I should; but pardon me, My sword and I speak roughly, Sir: Your battles,

[you I dare well say, I have fought well; for I bring That lazy end you wish for, peace, so fully That no more name of war is: Who now thinks

Sooner or safer these might have been ended,
Begin 'em if he dare again; I'll thank him.
Soldier and soldier's mate these twenty-five
years,

At length your general, (as one whose merit
Durst look upon no less) I've waded thro'
Dangers would damp these soft souls, but to
hear of.
[Sir.s

The maidenheads of thousand lives hang here,
Since which time, prince, I know no court
but martial,

No oily language, but the shock of arms,
No dalliance but with death; no lofty mea-

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Mothers have wanted wombs to make me fa-
mous,
[griev'd you,

And blown Ambition, dangers. Those that
I have taken order for i' th' earth: Those fools
That shall hereafter-

King. No more wars, my soldier:
We must now treat of peace, Sir.

[King takes Memnon aside, and talks
with him.

Cle. How he talks,

How gloriously.

Calis. A goodly-timber'd fellow;
Valiant no doubt.

Cle. If valour dwell in vaunting.

In what a phrase he speaks, as if his actions
Could be set off in nothing but a noise!
Sure h' has a drum in's mouth.

Calis. I wonder, wenches,
How he would speak to us.

Cle. Nothing but larum,

Tell us whose throat he cut, shew us his sword,
And bless it for sure biting.

Lucip. An't like your grace,

I do not think he knows us, what we are,
Or to what end; for I have heard his fol-
lowers

Affirm he never saw a woman that exceeded
A suttler's wife yet, or, in execution,"
Old bed-rid beldames without teeth or tongues,
That would not fly his fury. How he looks!
Cle. This way devoutly.

Calis. Sure his lordship's viewing

Our fortifications.

I

Lucip. If he mount at me,
may chance choak his batt'ry.
Calis. Still his eye

Keeps quarter this way:

Be not in love!

Cle. If he be, presently

[lour

Venus grant his va

Expect a herald and a trumpet with you,

To bid you render; we two perdu's pay for't

[fadies,

else. King. I'll leave you to my sister, and these To make your welcome fuller. My good soldier,

[ship;

We must now turn your sternness into courtWhen you have done there, to your fair re[Flourish.

pose, Sir!

I know you need it, Memnon. Welcome, gentlemen!

[Exit. Lucip. Now he begins to march. Madam, the van's yours;

5 The maidenheads of thousand lives hang here, Sir.] This line seems to have been shuffled by some accident out of its place. It ought, as we conjecture, to be inserted lower in the speech: Here it interrupts the sense; but there it falls happily in with it. We would therefore wish to omit it where it now stands, and to insert it after the line,

And ev'ry where I conquer'd, and for you, Sir.
The maidenheads of thousand lives hang here, Sir.
Mothers have wanted wombs to make me famous,
And blown Ambition, dangers.

— or in execution.] This signifies the sack of a town, and is used by Jonson in that
Seward.

sense as well as our Author.

Keep your ground sure; Mem. Oh, Venus!

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[He kneels amaz'd, and forgets to speak. Calis. How he stares on me.

Cle. Knight him, madam, knight him; He'll grow to th' ground else.

Eum. Speak, Sir; 'tis the princess.

1 Capt. You shame yourself; speak to her. Calis. Rise and speak, Sir.

[Sir! You are welcome to the court, to me, to all, Lucip. Is he not deaf?

Calis. The gentleman's not well. Eum. Fy, noble general! [How do you? Lucip. Give him fresh air; his colour goes. The princess will be glad, SirMem. Peace, and hear me. Cle. Command a silence there. Mem. I love thee, lady.

[ceed, Sir.

Calis. I thank your lordship heartily: ProLucip. Lord, how it stuck in's stomach, like a surfeit. [be thanked.

Cle. It breaks apace now from him, God What a fine-spoken man he is.

Lucip. A choice one;

Of singular variety in carriage!

[distance.

Cle. Yes, and I warrant you he knows his Mem. With all my heart I love thee. Calis. A hearty gentleman! And I were e'en an arrant beast, my lord, But I lov'd you again.

Mem. Good lady, kiss me. [up to her. Cle. Ay marry, Mars, there thou cam'st close Calis. Kiss you at first, my lord? 'Tis no fair fashion; [breaths,

Our lips are like rose-buds; blown with mens' They lose both sap and savour; there's my hand, Sir.

Eum. Fy, fy, my lord! this is too rude.
Mem. Unhand me!

Consume me if I hurt her. Good sweet lady,

Let me but look upon thee.

Calis. Do.

Mem. Yet!

Calis. Well, Sir,

Take your full view.

Lucip. Bless your eyes, Sir.
Calis. Mercy!

Is this the man they talk'd of for a soldier,
So absolute and excellent? Oh, the gods,
If I were given to that vanity

Of making sport with men for ignorance,
What a most precious subject had I purchas'd?
Speak for him, gentlemen, some one that
knows

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lord! I'm sorry

We cannot kiss at this time; but, believe it, We'll find an hour for all. God keep my

children [wenches, From being such sweet soldiers! Softly, Lest we disturb his dream.

[Exeunt Calis and ladies. Eum. Why, this is monstrous. [holds it. 1 Capt. A strange forgetfulness, yet still he 2 Capt. Tho' he ne'er saw a woman of great fashion

Before this day, yet methinks 'tis possible He might imagine what they are, and what Belongs unto 'em; meer report of others— Eum. Pish,

His head had other whimsies in't. My lord! Death, I think you're struck dumb. My good lord general! [love you, Mem. That I do love you, madam; and so An't like your grace

1 Capt. Sir!

2 Capt. He has been studying this speech. Eum. Who do you speak to, Sir? Mem. Why, where's the lady, The woman, the fair woman? 1 Capt. Who?

Mem. The princess, Give me the princess.

lord!

Eum. Give you counsel rather
To use her like a princess. Fy, my
How have you borne yourself, how nakedly
Laid your soul open and your ignorance,
To be a sport to all! Report and honour
Drew her to do you favours, and you bluntly,
Without consid'ring what, or who she was,
Neither collecting reason, nor distinction--
Mem. Why, what did I, my masters?
Eum. All that shews

A man unhandsome, undigested dough.
Mem. Did not I kneel unto her?
Eum. Dumb and senseless,

7'Tis for your spurs.] This is an allusion to Chivalry. Lord Lyttelton, speaking of Henry II. after he was knighted, says, 'He sought an occasion of exercising his new profes sion of arms, or (to speak in the language of that age) he desired to gain his spurs; but he could not possibly take the field, &c.' Life of Henry II. vol. ii. p. 178. And we find in Segar's Honor Civil and Military, p. 75, that, on the degradation of a knight in England, his gilt spurs were beaten from his heels, and his sword taken from him and broken.

R.

8 Staggers.] The staggers, which is a kind of horses' apoplexy, is mentioned in All's Well that Ends Well. One species of it is a raging impatience, which makes the animal dash himself with destructive violence against posts or walls.

See Johnson's notes on Shakespeare, vol. iv. p. 58.

R.

As tho' you had been cut out for your father's

tomb,

[you,
Or stuck a land-mark. When she spoke unto
Being the excellence of all our island,
You star'd upon her as you had seen a monster.
Mem. Was I so foolish? I confess, Eumenes,
I never saw before so brave an outside.
But did I kneel so long?

you

Eum. Till they laugh'd at you.
And when you spoke, I am asham'd to tell
What 'twas, my lord; how far from order.
Bless me!

Is't possible the wild noise of a war,
And what she only teaches, should possess you?
Knowledge to treat with her, and full discre-
tion,

Being at flood still in you: And in peace,
And manly conversation, smooth and civil,
Where gracefulness and glory twine together,
Thrust yourself out an exile? Do you know,
Sir,
[dience

What state she carries? and what great obe-
Waits at her beck continually?

Mem. She ne'er commanded

An hundred thousand men, as I have done, Nor ne'er won battle. Say I would have kiss'd her.

[one!

Eum. There was a dainty offer too, a rare
Mem. Why, she's a woman, is she not?
Eum. She is so.
[for then?
Mem. Why, very well; what was she made
Is she not young, and handsome, bred to

breed?

Do not men kiss fair women? if they do,
If lips be not unlawful ware, why a princess
Is got the same way that we get a beggar,
Or I am cozen'd; and the self-same way
She must be handled ere she get another.
That's rudeness, is it not?

2 Capt. To her 'tis held so,
And rudeness in that high degree▬▬
Mem. 'Tis reason;

But I will be more punctual. Pray what thought she?

Eura. Her thoughts were merciful, but she
laugh'd at you,

Pitying the poorness of your compliment,
And so she left you. Good Sir, shape yourself
To understand the place and noble persons
You live with now.

1 Capt. Let not those great deserts

The king hath laid up of you, and the people,
Be blasted with ill-bearing!

Eum. The whole name
Of soldier then will suffer.

Mem. She's a sweet one.

And, good Sirs, leave your exhortations;
They come untimely to me: I have brains
That beat above your reaches: She's a princess,
That's all; I've kill'd a king, and that is
greater.

Come, let's to dinner; if the wine be good,
You shall perceive strange wisdom in my
blood.
[Exeunt all but Chilax.
Chi. Well, 'would thou wert i' th' wars
again, old Memnon! [the proudest
There thou wouldst talk to th' purpose, and
Of all these court camelions would be glad
To find it sense too. Plague of this dead
peace,

This bastard-breeding, lousy, lazy idleness!
Now we must learn to pipe, and pick our
livings
[years
Out of old rotten ends. These twenty-five
I've serv'd my country, lost my youth and
blood,

swers:

Expos'd my life to dangers more than days;
Yet, let me tell my wants, I know their an-
[people,
The king is bound to right me,' they, good
Have but from hand to mouth.' Look to
your wives,
[your marchpanes! 9
Your
young trim wives, your high-day wives,
For if the soldiers find not recompence,
(As yet there's none a-hatching) I believe,
You men of wares, the men of wars will nick
[means
For starve nor beg they must not. My small
Are gone in fumo: Here to raise a better
(Unless it be with lying, or dog-flattering,
At which our nation's excellent, observing
dog-days,
[basted
When this good lady broils and wou'd be
By that good lord, or such-like moral learn-
ings)
['em;

ye;

Is here impossible: Well, I'll rub among
If any thing for honesty be gotten,
Though't be but bread and cheese, I can be
satisfied:

If otherwise the wind blow, stiff as I am
Yet I shall learn to shuffle. There's an old lass
That shall be nameless yet alive, my last hope,

9 Marchpanes.] Marchpane was a confection, made of pistachio-nuts, almonds, sugar, &c. and in high esteem in Shakespeare's time, as appears from the account of Queen Elizabeth's entertainment in Cambridge. It is said that the university presented Sir William Cecil, their chancellor, with two pair of gloves, a marchpane, and two sugar-loaves.

Dr. Gray's notes on Shakespeare. Marchpane, a kind of sweet bread, or biscuit, called by some alınond-cake. Hermolaus Barbarus terms it mazapanis, vulgarly martius panis, G. macepain and massepain. H. marzapane, H. macapan, B. marcepeyn, i.e. massa pura. But as few understood the meaning of this term, it began to be generally, though corruptly, called massepeyn, marcepeyn, martsepeyn; and, in consequence of this mistake of theirs, it soon took the name of martius panis, an appellation transferred afterwards into other languages. See Junius. Notes to Shakespeare, Oxford edit.

The fragility of the biscuit seems to be the chief quality here alluded to.

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