But thy own health, and pronounce general pardon To all through France. Adm. Sir, I must kneel to thank you, It is not seal'd else; your blest hand; live happy. May all you trust have no less faith than Chabot. O! Wife. His heart is broken. Father. And kneeling, sir, As his ambition were, in death to show The truth of his obedience. [Dies. FURTHER EXTRACTS FROM No advice to self-advice. another's knowledge, Applied to my instruction, cannot equal fair, Is but a shadow to his beams i' the air; On other's knowledge, and exile their own. Virtue under calumny. as in cloudy days, we see the sun Glide over turrets, temples, richest fields, All those left dark, and slighted in his way, THE HISTORY OF ANTONIO AND THE FIRST PART. BY JOHN MARSTON. ANDRUGIO Duke of Genoa banished his country, with the loss of a son supposed drowned, is cast upon the territory of his mortal enemy the Duke of VENICE; with no attendants but LUCIO an old nobleman, and a Page. Andr. Is not yon gleam the shuddering morn that flakes With silver tincture the east verge of heaven? My thoughts are fixt in contemplation ears. and Philosophy maintains that Nature 's wise, man, Paints me a puppet even with seeming breath, And gives a sot appearance of a soul. Exclaiming thus: O thou all-bearing earth, mouths And chok'st their throats with dust; open thy breast, And let me sink into thee. Look who knocks; Andrugio calls. But O, she 's deaf and blind. A wretch but lean relief on earth can find. Luc. Sweet lord, abandon passion, and disarm. Since by the fortune of the tumbling sea, We are roll'd up upon the Venice marsh, Let's clip all fortune, lest more low'ring fateAndr. More low'ring fate! O Lucio, choke that breath. Now I defy chance. Even to the utmost Fortune's brow hath frown'd, wrinkle it can bend : Her venom's spit. Alas! what country rests, for my blood? Gapes not my native country And yet more low'ring fate? left Unto Andrugio, but Andrugio: There's nothing Nor mischief, force, distress, nor hell can take : Fortune my fortunes, not my mind, shall shake. Luc. Speak like yourself; but give me leave, my lord, To wish your safety. If you are but seen, Your arms display you; therefore put them off, Andr. Wouldst have me go unarm'd foes? among my Being besieg'd by passion, ent'ring lists, To combat with despair and mighty grief: My soul beleaguer'd with the crushing strength Of sharp impatience. Ha, Lucio, go unarm'd? Come soul, resume the valour of thy birth ; Myself, myself will dare all opposites : I'll muster forces, an unvanquish'd power: Cornets of horse shall press th' ungrateful earth; This hollow-wombed mass shall inly groan And murmur to sustain the weight of arms: Ghastly amazement, with upstarted hair, Shall hurry on before, and usher us, Whilst trumpets clamour with a sound of death. He who hath that, hath a battalion royal, [The situation of Andrugio and Lucio resembles that of Lear and Kent, in that king's distresses. Andrugio, like Lear, manifests a kind of royal impatience, a turbulent greatness, an affected resignation. The enemies which he enters lists to combat, "despair, and mighty grief, and sharp impatience," and the forces ("cornets of horse," &c.) which he brings to vanquish them, are in the boldest style of allegory. They are such a "race of mourners as "the infection of sorrows loud" in the intellect might beget on "some pregnant cloud" in the imagination.] ANTONIO'S REVENGE. THE SECOND PART OF THE HISTORY OF ANTONIO AND MELLIDA. BY THE SAME AUTHOR. The Prologue.1 THE rawish dank of clumsy winter ramps From off the soft and delicate aspects. (As from his birth being hugged in the arms, 1 This prologue, for its passionate earnestness, and for the tragic note of preparation which it sounds, might have preceded one of those old tales of Thebes, or Pelops' line, which Milton has so highly commended, as free from the common error of the poets in his days, "of intermixing common stuff with tragic sadness and gravity, brought in without discretion corruptly to gratify the people."—It is as solemn a preparative as the "warning voice which he who saw the Apocalypse, heard cry" 2 peels. 3Sleek favourites of Fortune." Preface to Poems by S T. Coleridge. |