MASTER WALTER'S WARD.

THE HUNCHBACK.-Act I.-Scene 2.

Helen. (L.) I like not, Julia, this, your country life. I'm weary on't.

Julia. (R.) Indeed! So am not I!

I know no other; would no other know.
Helen. You would no other know!
Another relative?-another friend—.
Another house-another anything,

[know

Would you not

Because the ones you have already please you? That's poor content! "Would you not be more rich? "More wise, more fair?" The song that last you learned

You fancy well, and, therefore, shall you learn

No other song? Your virginal, 'tis true,

Hath a sweet tone; but does it follow thence,
You shall not have another virginal?

You may love, and a sweeter one, and so
A sweeter life may find, than this you lead!
Julia. I seek it not. Helen, I'm constancy!
Helen. So is a cat, a dog, a silly hen,

An owl, a bat--where they are wont to lodge
That still sojourn, nor care to shift their quarters.
Thou'rt constancy? I'm glad I know thy name!
The spider comes of the same family,
That in his meshy fortress spends his life,
Unless you pull it down, and scare him from it.
And so thou'rt constancy? Art proud of that?
And so, in very deed, thou'rt constancy?

Julia. Helen, you know the adage of the tree-
I've ta'en the bend. This rural life of mine,

Enjoined by an unknown father's will,

I've led from infancy. Debarred from hope

Of change, I ne'er have sighed for change. The town To me was like the moon, for any thought

I e'er should visit it-nor was I schooled

To think it half so fair!

Helen.

Not half so fair!

The town's the sun, and thou hast dwelt in night E'er since thy birth, not to have seen the town! Their women there are queens, and kings their men; Their houses palaces! (crosses, R.)

Julia. (crosses L.) And what of that? Have your town palaces a hall like this?

Couches so fragrant? Walls so high adorned? Casements with such festoons, such prospects, Helen, As these fair vistas have? Your kings and queens! See me a May-day queen, and talk of them.

Helen. Extremes are never neighbors. 'Tis a step From one to the other! Were thy constancy A reasonable thing a little less

Of constancy-a woman's constancy—

I should not wonder wert thou ten years hence
The maid I know thee now; but as it is,

The odds are ten to one, that this day year
Will see our May-day queen a city one.

Julia. Never! I'm wedded to a country life.
O, did you hear what Master Walter says?
Nine times in ten the town's a hollow thing,

Where what things are. is naught to what they show;
Where merit's name laughs merit's self to scorn!
Where friendship and esteem, that ought to be
The tenants of men's hearts, lodge in their looks
And tongues alone. Where little virtue, with
A costly keeper, passes for a heap;

A heap for none, that have a homely one!
Where fashion makes the law-your umpire which
You bow to, whether it have brains or not.
Where Folly taketh off his cap and bell,
To clap on Wisdom, which must bear the jest!
Where, to pass current, you must seem the thing,
The passive thing that others think you, and not
Your simple, honest, independent self! (crosses, R.)
Helen. Ay, so says Master Walter. See I not
What you can find in Master Walter, Julia,
To be so fond of him!

Julia.

He's fond of me!

E'en then

I had those

I've known him since I was a child.
The week I thought a weary, heavy one,
That brought not Master Walter.
About me then that made a fool of me.
As children oft are fooled; but more I loved
Good Master Walter's lesson, than the play
With which they'd surfeit me. As I grew up,
More frequent Master Walter came, and more
I loved to see him. I had tutors then,

Men of great skill and learning-but not one

[me,

That taught like Master Walter. What they'd show And I, dull as I was, but doubtful saw

A word from Master Walter made as clear

As daylight. When my schooling days were o'er-
That's now good three years past-three years—I vow
I'm twenty, Helen-well, as I was saying,

When I had done with school, and all were gone,
Still Master Walter came, and still he comes,
Summer or winter-frost or rain. I've seen
The snow upon a level with the hedge,
Yet there was Master Walter!

KNOWLES.

THE WIFE'S SUPPLICATION.

FAZIO.Act IV.-Scene 3.

Enter Aldabella.

Aldabella. Fazio in prison! Fazio doom'd to die!— I was too hasty; should have fled, and bashfully Beckoned him after; lured him, not seized on him. Proud Aldabella a poor robber's paramour! Oh, it sounds dismal! Florence must not hear itAnd sooth, his time is brief to descant on it.—

Enter Bianca.

And who art thou, thus usherless and unbidden,
Scarest my privacy?

Bianca. There is one

Fie, fie upon this choking in my throat-
One thou didst love,-Giraldi Fazio ;—

One who loved thee,-Giraldi Fazio,—

He's doom'd to die, to die to-morrow morning.
Thou'rt high-born, rich and beautiful; the prince,
The prime of Florence wait upon thy smiles,
Like sunflowers on the golden light they love;
Thy lips have such sweet melody, 'tis hung upon
Till silence is an agony. Did it plead

For one condemn'd, but oh, most innocent,
'Twould be a music th' air would fall in love with,
And never let it die till it had won

Its honest purpose.

Ald. What a wanton waste

Of idle praise is here!

Bian. Frown not on me:

Thou think'st that he's a murderer-'tis all false;
A trick of Fortune, fancifully cruel,

To cheat the world of such a life as Fazio's.

Ald. Frivolous and weak: I could not if I would. Bian. Nay, but I'll lure thee with so rich a boon— Hear hear, and thou art won. If thou dost save him,

It is but just he should be saved for thee.
I give him thee-Bianca-I, his wife-
I pardon all that has been, all that may be-
Oh, I will be thy handmaid; be so patient-
Calmly, contentedly, and sadly patient-
And if you see a pale or envious motion
Upon my cheek, a quivering on my lips,

Like to complaint-then strike him dead before me.
Thou shalt enjoy all-all that I enjoy'd:-
His love, his life, his sense, his soul be thine;
And I will bless thee, in my misery bless thee.

Ald. What mist is on my wild and wandering eyes? Know'st thou to whom and where thou play'st the raver?

I, Aldabella, whom the amorous homage
Of rival lords and princes stir no more

Than the light passing of the common air

I

Bian. Proud-lipped woman, earth's most gorgeous sovereigns

Were worthless of my Fazio! Foolish woman,

Thou cast'st a jewel off! The proudest lord
That ever revell'd in thy unchaste arms
Was a swarth galley-slave to Fazio.

Ah, me! ah me! e'en I, his lawful wife,

Know't not more truly, certainly than thou.

Hadst thou loved him, I had pardon'd, pitied thee; We two had sat, all cold, palely sad;

Dropping, like statues on a fountain side,

A pure, a silent, and eternal dew.

Hadst thou outwept me, I had loved thee for't

And that were easy, for I'm stony here.

[Putting her hands to her eyes.

Ald. (Turning away.) There is a dizzy trembling

in mine eye;

But I must dry the foolish dew for shame.

Well, what is it to me? I slew him not;

Nay, nor denounced him to the judgment seat.

I but debase myself to lend free hearing

To such coarse fancies. I must hence, to-night
I feast the lords of Florence.

Bian. They're all lies:

[Exit.

All tales of human goodness! Or they're legends
Left us of some good old forgotten time,

Ere harlotry became a queenly sin,

And housed in palaces.

Oh, earth's so crowded

With Vice, that if strange Virtue stray abroad,

They hoot it from them like a thing accurst,
Fazio, my Fazio! but we'll laugh at them:
We will not stay upon their wicked soil,

E'en though they sue us not to die and leave them.

MILMAN.