SCENE III.

_A State-room in the same._

_Enter_ FIORINDA, SANAZARRO, _and_ CALAMINTA.

_Sanaz._ And can it be, your bounties should fall down In showers on my ingratitude, or the wrongs Your greatness should revenge, teach you to pity? What retribution can I make, what service Pay to your goodness, that, in some proportion, May to the world express I would be thankful? Since my engagements are so great, that all My best endeavours to appear your creature Can but proclaim my wants, and what I owe To your magnificence.

_Fior._ All debts are discharged In this acknowledgment: yet, since you please I shall impose some terms of satisfaction For that which you profess yourself obliged for, They shall be gentle ones, and such as will not, I hope, afflict you.

_Sanaz._ Make me understand, Great princess, what they are, and my obedience Shall, with all cheerful willingness, subscribe To what you shall command.

_Fior._ I will bind you to Make good your promise. First, I then enjoin you To love a lady, that, a noble way, Truly affects you; and that you would take To your protection and care the dukedom Of Urbin, which no more is mine, but yours. And that, when you have full possession of My person as my fortune, you would use me, Not as a princess, but instruct me in The duties of an humble wife, for such, The privilege of my birth no more remember'd, I will be to you. This consented to, All injuries are forgotten.

_Sanaz._ I am wretched, In having but one life to be employ'd As you please to dispose it. And, believe it, If it be not already forfeited To the fury of my prince, as 'tis your gift, With all the faculties of my soul I'll study, In what I may, to serve you.

_Fior._ I am happy

_Enter_ GIOVANNI _and_ LIDIA.

In this assurance. What sweet lady's this?

_Sanaz._ 'Tis Lidia, madam, she----

_Fior._ I understand you. Nay, blush not; by my life, she is a rare one! And, if I were your judge, I would not blame you To like and love her. But, sir, you are mine now; And I presume so on your constancy, That I dare not be jealous.

_Sanaz._ All thoughts of her Are in your goodness buried.

_Lid._ Pray you, sir, Be comforted; your innocence should not know What 'tis to fear; and if that you but look on The guards that you have in yourself, you cannot. The duke's your uncle, sir, and, though a little Incensed against you, when he sees your sorrow, He must be reconciled. What rugged Tartar, Or cannibal, though bathed in human gore, But, looking on your sweetness, would forget His cruel nature, and let fall his weapon, Though then aim'd at your throat?

_Giov._ O Lidia, Of maids the honour, and your sex's glory! It is not fear to die, but to lose you, That brings this fever on me. I will now Discover to you, that which, till this minute, I durst not trust the air with. Ere you knew What power the magic of your beauty had, I was enchanted by it, liked, and loved it, My fondness still increasing with my years; And, flatter'd by false hopes, I did attend Some blessed opportunity to move The duke with his consent to make you mine: But now, such is my star-cross'd destiny, When he beholds you as you are, I may As well entreat him give away his crown, As to part from a jewel of more value. Yet, howsoever, when you are his duchess, And I am turn'd into forgotten dust, Pray you, love my memory:--I should say more, But I'm cut off.

_Enter_ COZIMO, CHAROMONTE, CONTARINO, HIERONIMO, HIPPOLITO, _and_ ALPHONSO.

_Sanaz._ The duke! That countenance, once, When it was clothed in smiles, show'd like an angel's, But, now 'tis folded up in clouds of fury, 'Tis terrible to look on.

_Lid._ Sir.

_Coz._ A while Silence your musical tongue, and let me feast My eyes with the most ravishing object that They ever gazed on. There's no miniature In her fair face, but is a copious theme Which would, discoursed at large of, make a volume. What clear arch'd brows! what sparkling eyes! the lilies Contending with the roses in her cheeks, Who shall most set them off. What ruby lips!-- Or unto what can I compare her neck, But to a rock of crystal? every limb Proportion'd to love's wish, and in their neatness Add lustre to the riches of her habit, Not borrow from it.

_Lid._ You are pleased to show, sir, The fluency of your language, in advancing A subject much unworthy.

_Coz._ How! unworthy? By all the vows which lovers offer at The Cyprian goddess' altars, eloquence Itself presuming, as you are, to speak you, Would be struck dumb!--And what have you deserved then, [GIOVANNI _and_ SANAZARRO _kneel_. (Wretches, you kneel too late,) that have endeavour'd To spout the poison of your black detraction On this immaculate whiteness? Was it malice To her perfections? or----

_Fior._ Your highness promised A gracious hearing to the count.

_Lid._ And prince too: Do not make void so just a grant.

_Coz._ We will not: Yet, since their accusation must be urged, And strongly, ere their weak defence have hearing, We seat you here, as judges, to determine Of your gross wrongs and ours. [_Seats the Ladies in the chairs of state._] And now, remembering Whose deputies you are, be neither sway'd Or with particular spleen, or foolish pity, For neither can become you.

_Char._ There's some hope yet, Since they have such gentle judges.

_Coz._ Rise, and stand forth, then, And hear, with horror to your guilty souls, What we will prove against you. Could this princess, Thou enemy to thyself, [_To_ SANAZARRO.] stoop her high flight Of towering greatness to invite thy lowness To look up to it, and with nimble wings Of gratitude couldst thou forbear to meet it? Were her favours boundless in a noble way, And warranted by our allowance, yet, In thy acceptation, there appear'd no sign Of a modest thankfulness?

_Fior._ Pray you, forbear To press that further; 'tis a fault we have Already heard, and pardon'd.

_Coz._ We will then Pass over it, and briefly touch at that Which does concern ourself; in which both being Equal offenders, what we shall speak points Indifferently at either. How we raised thee, Forgetful Sanazarro! of our grace, To a full possession of power and honours, It being too well known, we'll not remember. And what thou wert, rash youth, in expectation, [_To_ GIOVANNI. And from which headlong thou hast thrown thyself, Not Florence, but all Tuscany, can witness With admiration. To assure thy hopes, We did keep constant to a widow'd bed, And did deny ourself those lawful pleasures Our absolute power and height of blood allow'd us; Made both, the keys that open'd our heart's secrets, And what you spake, believed as oracles: But you, in recompense of this, to him That gave you all, to whom you owed your being, With treacherous lies endeavour'd to conceal This jewel from our knowledge, which ourself Could only lay just claim to.

_Giov._ 'Tis most true, sir.

_Sanaz._ We both confess a guilty cause.

_Coz._ Look on her. Is this a beauty fit to be embraced By any subject's arms? can any tire Become that forehead but a diadem? Or, should we grant your being false to us Could be excused, your treachery to her, In seeking to deprive her of that greatness (Her matchless worth consider'd) she was born to, Must ne'er find pardon. We have spoken, ladies, Like a rough orator, that brings more truth Than rhetoric to make good his accusation; And now expect your sentence. [_The Ladies descend from the state[93]._

_Lid._ In your birth, sir, You were mark'd out the judge of life and death, And we, that are your subjects, to attend, With trembling fear, your doom.

_Fior._ We do resign This chair, as only proper to yourself.

_Giov._ And, since injustice we are lost, we fly Unto your saving mercy. [_All kneeling._

_Sanaz._ Which sets off A prince much more than rigour.

_Char._ And becomes him, When 'tis express'd to such as fell by weakness, That being a twin-born brother to affection, Better than wreaths of conquest.

_Hier. Hip. Cont. Alph._ We all speak Their language, mighty sir.

_Coz._ You know our temper, And therefore with more boldness venture on it: And, would not our consent to your demands Deprive us of a happiness hereafter Ever to be despair'd of, we, perhaps, Might hearken nearer to you; and could wish With some qualification, or excuse, You might make less the mountains of your crimes, And so invite our clemency to feast with you. But you, that knew with what impatiency Of grief we parted from the fair Clarinda, Our duchess, (let her memory still be sacred!) And with what imprecations on ourself We vow'd, not hoping e'er to see her equal, Ne'er to make trial of a second choice, If nature framed not one that did excel her, As this maid's beauty prompts us that she does:-- And yet, with oaths then mix'd with tears, upon Her monument we swore our eye should never Again be tempted;--'tis true, and those vows Are register'd above, something here tells me.-- Carolo, thou heard'st us swear.

_Char._ And swear so deeply, That if all women's beauties were in this, (As she's not to be named with the dead duchess,) Nay, all their virtues bound up in one story, (Of which mine is scarce an epitome,) If you should take her as a wife, the weight Of your perjuries would sink you. If I durst, I had told you this before.

_Coz._ 'Tis strong truth, Carolo: And yet what was necessity in us Cannot free them from treason.

_Char._ There's your error: The prince, in care to have you keep your vows Made unto Heaven, vouchsafed to love my daughter[94].

Surely Massinger intended that his characters should here be understood as speaking the truth. The contrivance by which he exculpates Giovanni is a clumsy one; but he was anxious to conclude his play, and took the first that suggested itself. Awkward as it may appear to the reader, it has, perhaps, quite enough dramatic probability to satisfy an audience

_Lid._ He told me so, indeed, sir.

_Fior._ And the count Averr'd as much to me.

_Cos._ You all conspire, To force our mercy from us.

_Char._ Which given up, To aftertimes preserves you unforsworn: An honour which will live upon your tomb When your greatness is forgotten.

_Coz._ Though we know All this is practice[95], and that both are false, Such reverence we will pay to dead Clarinda, And to our serious oaths, that we are pleased With our own hand to blind our eyes, and not Know what we understand. Here, Giovanni, We pardon thee; and take from us, in this, More than our dukedom: love her. As I part With her, all thoughts of women fly fast from us. Sanazarro, we forgive you: in your service To this princess, merit it. Yet let not others That are in trust and grace, as you have been, By the example of our lenity, Presume upon their sovereign's clemency.

_Enter_ CALANDRINO _and_ PETRONELLA.

_All._ Long live great Cozimo!

_Cal._ Sure the duke is In the giving vein, they are so loud. Come on, spouse; We have heard all, and we will have our boon too.

_Coz._ What is it?

_Cal._ That your grace, in remembrance of My share in a dance, and that I play'd your part When you should have drunk hard, would get this signior's grant To give this damsel to me in the church, For we are contracted. In it you shall do Your dukedom pleasure.

_Coz._ How?

_Cal._ Why, the whole race Of such as can act naturally fools' parts Are quite worn out; and they that do survive Do only zany us: and we will bring you, If we die not without issue, of both sexes Such chopping mirth-makers, as shall preserve Perpetual cause of sport, both to your grace And your posterity, that sad melancholy Shall ne'er approach you.

_Coz._ We are pleased in it, And will pay her portion.----[_Comes forward._ _May the passage prove, Of what's presented, worthy of your love And favour, as was aim'd; and we have all That can in compass of our wishes fall._ [_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[93] _The state_,] i. e. _the raised platform on which the chairs were placed_.

[94] _The prince, in care to have you keep your vows Made unto Heaven, vouchsafed to love my daughter._] This attempt to impose upon the great duke is more deplorable than the former. It has falsehood and improbability written on its face. The duke, indeed, is not deceived by it; but surely the author showed a strange want of judgment in this gratuitous degradation of three of his most estimable characters.--GIFFORD.

[95] _Practice_,] i. e. _artifice, or insidious combination_.

THE BONDMAN.

The Bondman was performed, as we learn from the Office-book of Sir Henry Herbert, Master of the Revels, at the Cockpit in Drury-lane, December 3, 1623. It was printed the following year, and again in 1638.

The main incident of the plot is taken from the life of Timoleon, as related by Plutarch. The revolt and subsequent reduction of the slaves to their duty may have been taken either from Herodotus or Justin, or Purchas's Pilgrim. The artifice by which they are quelled is silly and unnatural, and its introduction degrades a very beautifully managed plot.

The play was revived in 1660 by Betterton, who played Pisander; and several alterations of it have since been produced, but without success.

Our author never writes with more effect than when he combines his own fancy with real history; and in The Bondman he has produced a piece which is, with few exceptions, at once stately and playful, impressive and tender. He matures the love under the cover of the history; till at length the interest changes, and the history becomes subordinate to the love.

The characters are drawn with much variety and interest. The modest gravity and self-command of Timoleon well agrees with the ancient descriptions of the man from whose mouth _nihil unquam insolens, neque gloriosum exiit_.

TO

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, MY SINGULAR GOOD LORD,

PHILIP, EARL OF MONTGOMERY,

KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER, &C.

RIGHT HONOURABLE,

However I could never arrive at the happiness to be made known to your lordship, yet a desire, born with me, to make a tender of all duties and service to the noble family of the Herberts, descended to me as an inheritance from my dead father, Arthur Massinger. Many years he happily spent in the service of your honourable house, and died a servant to it; leaving his to be ever most glad and ready to be at the command of all such as derive themselves from his most honoured master, your lordship's most noble father. The consideration of this encouraged me (having no other means to present my humblest service to your honour) to shroud this trifle under the wings of your noble protection; and I hope, out of the clemency of your heroic disposition, it will find, though perhaps not a welcome entertainment, yet, at the worst, a gracious pardon. When it was first acted, your lordship's liberal suffrage taught others to allow it for current, it having received the undoubted stamp of your lordship's allowance: and if in the perusal of any vacant hour, when your honour's more serious occasions shall give you leave to read it, it answer, in your lordship's judgment, the report and opinion it had upon the stage, I shall esteem my labours not ill employed, and, while I live, continue

the humblest of those that truly honour your lordship, PHILIP MASSINGER.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

TIMOLEON, _the general, of Corinth_. ARCHIDAMUS, _prætor of Syracusa_. DIPHILUS, _a senator of Syracusa_. CLEON, _a fat foolish lord_. MARULLO, _the Bondman_ (_i. e._ PISANDER, _a gentleman of Thebes, disguised as a slave_). POLIPHRON, _friend to_ MARULLO, _also disguised as a slave_. LEOSTHENES, _a gentleman of Syracusa, enamoured of_ CLEORA. ASOTUS, _a foolish lover, and the son of_ CLEON. TIMAGORAS, _the son of_ ARCHIDAMUS. GRACCULO, } _slaves._ CIMBRIO, } _A Gaoler._

CLEORA, _daughter of_ ARCHIDAMUS. CORISCA, _a proud lady, wife to_ CLEON. OLYMPIA, _a rich widow_. TIMANDRA, _slave to_ CLEORA (_i. e._ STATILIA, _sister to_ PISANDER). ZANTHIA, _slave to_ CORISCA.

_Other Slaves, Soldiers, Officers, Senators._

SCENE, Syracuse, and the adjacent country.

THE BONDMAN.