THE LOYAL SUBJECT. A TRAGI-COMEDY. The Commendatory Verses by Hills and Gardiner give to Fletcher the sole honour of this Play. The Prologue also (written soon after his demise, and consequently long after Beaumont's) speaks of him singly. It was first printed in the folio of 1647. In the year 1706, a Tragedy, entitled 'The Faithful General, written by a young lady,' was acted at the Queen's Theatre in the Hay-Market; but the writer in her preface declares, though her first intention had been to revive this play, yet that, in the progress of it, she made so many alterations, that a very small part of it belonged to our Author. We have also heard of an alteration by Mr. Sheridan, sen. but this we imagine was never printed; and it was probably acted, if at all, only in Ireland. Ruins the buildings which they strive to raise To his best memory.] Mr. Seward thinks we should read, BLEST memory; but, from the context, the Author seems undoubtedly to have written BEST. 2 Ensign to Archas.] As this character is called Ancient all through the play, we know not any reason for calling him Ensign in the drama. VOL. I. 3 M SCENE I. Enter Theodore and Putskic. the princess has her; ACT I. Theod. CAPTAIN, your friend's preferr'd; Puts. Well bred, Sir, I do deliver that upon my credit, Theod. It seems so, captain, Puts. Thanks to your care, Sir. But tell me, noble colonel, why this habit Why he, that was the father of the war, Theod. It must be so. Captain, you are a ter'd: But of a small time here a soldier, [one, Yet that time shews you a right good and great Else I could tell you, hours are strangely al[him, young duke has too many eyes upon Too many fears 'tis thought too; and, to nourish those, The Maintains too many instruments. Puts. Turn their hearts, Or turn their heels up, Heav'n! "Tis strange it should be; The old duke lov'd him dearly. Theod. He deserv'd it; And, were he not my father, I durst tell you, The memorable hazards he has run thro' Deserv'd of this man too; highly deserv'd [Putskie, too: Had they been less, they had been safer, 3 And sooner reach'd regard. Puts. There you struck sure, Sir. Theod. Did I never tell thee of a vow he made, Some years before the old duke died? Puts. I have heard you Speak often of that vow; but how it was, find the reason. [here, The last great muster, ('twas before you serv'd Before the last duke's death, whose honour'd bones [ord'ring Now rest in peace) this young prince had the (To crown his father's hopes) of all the army: Who, to be short, put all his pow'rs to prac tice,+ [poorly, Fashion'd, and drew 'em up: But, alas, so So raggedly and loosely, so unsoldier'd, The good duke blush'd, and call'd unto my father, fly, Who then was general: Go, Archas, speediAnd chide the boy, before the soldiers find him; Stand thou between his ignorance and them; Fashion their bodies new to thy direction; Then draw thou up, and shew the prince his errors!' Ancient is the same as Ensign; and is always used in this sense in Shakespeare and other contemporary writers. R. In this drama the Editors of the second folio insert Bawd, a court lady. If there ever was such a character, it must have been omitted before the play was printed. 3 Had they been less, they had been safe, Putskie.] Former editions. The change necessary to the metre. Seward. The meaning of this passage (which is liable to misconstruction) is, Had his military prowess been less, he would have been less an object of envy and jealousy, and sooner have been rewarded. So afterwards, Archas saying, That voluntary I sit down, Theodore replies, You are forc'd, Sir; forc'd for your safety. + Put all his power to practice.] The context requires the small variation we have made. The latter editions read, pow'r in practice. Enter Olympia, Petesca, and Gentlewoman. Olym. What thinkest thou Petesca? Pet. Alas, madam, I've no skill; she has a black eye, [ter: Which is o' th' least too, and the dullest waAnd when her mouth was made, for certain, madain, Nature intended her a right good stomach. Gent. 'Tis good enough to hold fast, And strong enough to strangle the neck of a lute. Olym. What think you, of her colour? 'Tis good black blood; right weather-proof, I warrant it. Gent. What a strange pace sh' has got? Pet. And what a manly body? methinks she looks As tho' she'd pitch the bar, or go to buffets. Gent. Yet her behaviour's utterly against it, For methinks she's too bashful. Olym. Is that hurtful? ['em, madam, Gent. Ev'n equal to too bold; either of May do her injury when time shall serve her. Olym. You discourse learnedly. Call in the wench. [Exit Gent. What envious fools are you? Is the rule general, That women can speak handsomely of none, But those they're bred withal? Pet. Scarce well of those, madam, If they believe they may out-shine 'em any way: [any thing, Our natures are like oil, compound us with Yet still we strive to swim o' th' top. Suppose there were here now, Now in this court of Mosco, a stranger-prin[lence, cess, Of blood and beauty equal to your ExcelAs many eyes and services stuck on her; What would you think? Olym. I'd think she might deserve it. Pet. Your grace shall give me leave not to believe you; I know you are a woman, and so humour'd, I'll tell you, madam; I could then get more gowns on you, More caps and feathers, more scarfs, and more silk stockings, With rocking you asleep with nightly railings Olym. Thou'rt deceiv'd, fool. Now let (Enter Gentlewoman and Alinda.) Come hither, girl. Hang me, an she be not A handsome one. Pet. I fear 'twill prove indeed so. Olym. Did you of worth? e'er serve yet in any place Alin. No, royal lady. Pet. Hold up your head; fy! Olym. Let her alone; stand from her! [for, Olym. What think ye now?—I do believe, And sure I shall not be so far forgetful, Alin. Alinda, madam. [leave, lady. Alin. A little, when my grief will give me Olym. What grief canst thou have, wench? Thou'rt not in love? [goodness; Alin. If I be, madam, 'tis only with your For yet I never saw that man I sigh'd for. Olym. Of what years are you? Alin. My mother oft has told me, That very day and hour this land was bless'd 5 Worth the duke's respect.] This change is plainly necessary to the metre. I've seen a better face, and a straighter body; Seward. And yet she is a pretty gentlewoman.] This last line seems candid, and by no means of a piece with the rest of what this second woman utters of Alinda; I have therefore given it to Olympia, to whom, I believe, it of right belongs. Seward. We see no reason for the variation; and think the former editions right. 7 Pet. The great duke, madam. Olym. A good day to your highness! To such a pitch, he flies to stoop our favours. Bur. However, may it please you That, as he march'd, sung thro' his aged locks; 8 He flies to stoop our favours.] To stoop is a term of falconry. Latham, who wrote a Treatise on this art, printed in the year 1633, explains it thus: Stooping is, when a hawke, ⚫ being upon her wings, at the height of her pitch, bendeth violently down to strike the fowle or any other prey. That the word was not obsolete when Milton wrote his Paradise Lost, and even later, will appear from the following examples; Gent. I fear she'll milk all the great courtiers you. [nour. And therefore nothing can be meant but ho- For Virtue's sake deliver me from doubts, lady. Olym. I believe thee Come, wipe your eyes-I do. Take you ex- Pet. Let me alone to think on't. SCENE III. [Exeunt. Enter Archas, Theodore, Putskie, Ancient, and Soldiers, carrying his armour piecemeal, his colours wound up, and his drums in cases. Theod. This is the heaviest march we e'er trod, captain. Puts. This was not wont to be: These The fiery god of war himself would smile at Thou child of honour and ambitious thoughts, Thou golden danger, courted by thy followers Prodigal mankind spending all his fortunes; person You ribs for mighty minds, you iron houses, And thou, good sword, that knew'st the way [ment: men. [too, But these must be forgotten: So must these And all that tend to arms, by me for ever. Take 'em, you holy men; my vow take with 'em, Never to wear 'em more: Trophies I give 'em, master Is now devotion's soldier, fit for pray'r. I am not dying yet. Theod. You are indeed to us, Sir. A greater, and a stronger man to lead you, Stoop to my grave: My mind unfurnish'd too; For one knock more; I should have made a Like a good fellow, and an honest soldier, 9 Farewell, my eagle.] All the terms in this speech are taken from the art of falconry, as any who will be at the pains to read the books on this science will readily discover. Our Author, in the latter part, seems to have had Shakespeare's description of the Severn, in the First Part of Henry IV. act i, before him: Three times they breath'd, and three times did they drink, Who then affrighted with their bloody looks, R. |