SCENE III.

_A room in_ FERNANDO’S _house_.

_Enter_ FERNANDO, GUIAMARA, _and_ CONSTANZA.

FER. Don John, son to the count of Carcomo? Woman, take heed thou trifle not. GUI. Is this, My lord, so strange? FER. Beauty in youth, and wit To set it forth, I see, transform[379] the best Into what shape love fancies. CONST. Will you yet Give me my husband’s life? FER. Why, little one, He is not married to thee. CONST. In his faith He is; and faith and troth I hope bind faster Than any other ceremonies can; Do they not, pray, my lord? FER. Yes, where the parties Pledg’d are not too unequal in degree, As he and thou art. CONST. This is new divinity. GUI. My lord, behold this child well: in her face You may observe, by curious insight, something More than belongs to every common birth. FER. True, ’tis a pretty child. GUI. The glass of misery Is, after many a change of desperate fortune, At length run out: you had a daughter call’d Constanza? FER. Ha! GUI. A sister, Guiamara, Wife to the count Alvarez? FER. Peace, O, peace! GUI. And to that sister’s charge you did commit Your infant daughter, in whose birth your wife, Her mother, died? FER. Woman, thou art too cruel! CONST. What d’ye mean, granam? ’las, the nobleman Grows angry! FER. Not I, indeed I do not:— But why d’ye use me thus? GUI. Your child and sister, As you suppos’d, were drown’d? FER. Drown’d? talking creature! Suppos’d? GUI. They live; Fernando, from my hand, Thy sister’s hand, receive thine own Constanza, The sweetest, best child living. CONST. Do you mock me? FER. Torment me on; yet more, more yet, and spare not, My heart is now a-breaking; now! GUI. O brother! Am I so far remov’d off from your memory, As that you will not know me? I expected Another welcome home: look on this casket, [_Shewing casket._ The legacy your lady left her daughter, When to her son she gave her crucifix. FER. Right, right; I know ye now. GUI. In all my sorrows, My comfort has been here, she should be [yours], Be yours [at last].—Constanza, kneel, sweet child, To thy old father. CONST. How? my father? [_Kneels._ FER. Let not Extremity of joys ravish life from me Too soon, heaven, I beseech thee! Thou art my sister, My sister Guiamara! How have mine eyes Been darken’d all this while! ’tis she! GUI. ’Tis, brother; And this Constanza, now no more a stranger, No Pretiosa henceforth. FER. My soul’s treasure, Live to an age of goodness; and so thrive In all thy ways, that thou mayst die to live! CONST. But must I call you father? FER. Thou wilt rob me else Of that felicity, for whose sake only I am ambitious of being young again: Rise, rise, mine own Constanza! CONST. [_rising_] ’Tis a new name, But ’tis a pretty one; I may be bold To make a suit t’ye? FER. Any thing. CONST. O father, And if you be my father, think upon Don John my husband! without him, alas, I can be nothing! FER. As I without thee; Let me alone, Constanza.—Tell me, tell me, Lives yet Alvarez? GUI. In your house. FER. Enough: Cloy me not; let me by degrees disgest[380] My joys.—Within, my lords Francisco, Pedro! Come all at once! I have a world within me; I am not mortal sure, I am not mortal:

_Enter_ FRANCISCO, PEDRO, MARIA, RODERIGO, _and_ CLARA.

My honourable lord[s], partake my blessings; [The] count Alvarez lives here in my house; Your son, my lord Francisco, Don John, is The condemn’d man falsely accus’d of theft; This, my lord Pedro, is my sister Guiamara; Madam, this [is] Constanza, mine own child, And I am a wondrous merry man.—Without! The prisoner!

_Enter_ ALVAREZ, LOUIS, JOHN, DIEGO, SANCHO, SOTO, _and_ CARDOCHIA.

LOUIS. Here, free and acquitted, By her whose folly drew her to this error; And she for satisfaction is assur’d[381] To my wrong’d friend. CARD. I crave your pardons; He whose I am speaks for me. DIEGO. We both beg it! FER. Excellent! admirable! my dear brother! ALV. Never a happy man till now; young Louis And I are reconcil’d. LOUIS. For ever, faithfully, Religiously. FRAN. } My noble lord, most welcome! PED., _&c._[382] } ALV. To all my heart pays what it owes, due thanks; Most, most, brave youth, to thee! JOHN. I all this while Stand but a looker-on; and though my father May justly tax the violence of my passions, Yet if this lady, lady of my life, Must be denied, let me be as I was, And die betimes. CONST. You promis’d me—— FER. I did.— My lord of Carcomo, you see their hearts Are join’d already, so let our consents To this wish’d marriage. FRAN. I forgive thine errors; Give me thy hand. FER. Me thine.[383]—But wilt thou love My daughter, my Constanza? JOHN. As my bliss. CONST. I thee as life, youth, beauty, any thing That makes life comfortable. FER. Live together One, ever one! FRAN. } And heaven crown your happiness! ROD., _&c._[384] } PED. Now, sir, how like you a prison? SAN. As gallants do a tavern, being stopped for a reckoning, scurvily. SOTO. Though you caged us up never so close, we sung like cuckoos. FER. Well, well, you be[385] yourself now. SAN. Myself?—am I out of my wits, Soto? FER. Here now are none but honourable friends: Will you, to give a farewell to the life You ha' led as gipsies, these being now found none, But noble in their births, alter’d in fortunes, Give it a merry shaking by the hand, And cry adieu to folly? SAN. We’ll shake our hands, and our heels, if you’ll give us leave. [_A dance._ FER. On, brides and bridegrooms! to your Spanish feasts Invite with bent knees[386] all these noble guests. [_Exeunt omnes._

THE CHANGELING.

_The Changeling: As it was Acted (with great Applause) at the Privat house in Drury-Lane, and Salisbury Court._

{ _Thomas Midleton_ } _Written by_ { and } _Gent._ { _William Rowley_ }

_Never Printed before. London, Printed for Humphrey Moseley, and are to be sold at his shop at the sign of the Princes-Arms in St Pauls Church-yard, 1653._ 4to. The edition just described was put forth with a new title-page in 1668,—_The Changeling: As it was Acted (with great Applause) by the Servants of His Royal Highness the Duke of York, at the Theatre in Lincolns-Inn Fields_, &c.

_The Changeling_ has been reprinted in the 4th vol. of _A Continuation of Dodsley’s Old Plays_, 1816.

“The foundation of the Play,” says Langbaine, “may be found in Reynold[s]’s _Gods Revenge against Murther_. See the Story of Alsemero and Beatrice Joanna, Book I. Hist. 4.” _Acc. of Engl. Dram. Poets_, p. 371. To the story in Reynolds’s work the following Argument is prefixed: “Beatrice-Joana, to marry Alsemero, causeth De Flores to murther Alfonso Piracquo, who was a Suiter to her. Alsemero marries her,f and finding De Flores and her in adultery, kills them both. Thomaso Piracquo challengeth Alsemero for his Brothers death. Alsemero kills him treacherously in the field, and is beheaded for the same, and his body thrown into the Sea. At his Execution he confesseth that his Wife and De Flores murthered Alfonso Piracquo: their bodies are taken up out of their graves, then burnt, and their Ashes thrown into the Air.” The authors of _The Changeling_, as the reader will perceive, have deviated in some important points from the prose narrative of Reynolds; nor are they indebted to that source for the characters of Jasperino, Alibius, Lollio, Pedro, Antonio, Franciscus, and Isabella.

An edition (I believe, the earliest) of the First Book of _The Triumphs of Gods Revenge against Murther_, was printed in 1621: see _Cat. Bibl. Bodlei_.

A “Note of such playes as were acted at court in 1623 and 1624,” in Sir Henry Herbert’s Office-book, records: “Upon the Sonday after, beinge the 4 of January 1623, by the Queene of Bohemias company, _The Changelinge_, the prince only being there. Att Whitehall.” Malone’s _Shakespeare_ (by Boswell), vol. iii. p. 227.

The part of Antonio, from which this once-popular drama has its name (_Changeling_—i. e. idiot, fool), appears to have been much relished by the audience: the last comic performer before the Civil Wars who obtained reputation in it was Robins: see Collier’s _Hist. of Engl. Dram. Poetry_, vol. ii. p. 107. Downes mentions that Betterton, when about twenty-two years of age, was highly applauded in the character of De Flores, and that Sheppy gave great satisfaction in that of Antonio: see _Roscius Anglicanus_, p. 26, ed. Waldron. Pepys has noted, under date of 23d Feb. 1660-1, “To the Playhouse, and there saw _The Changeling_, the first time it hath been acted these twenty years, and it takes exceedingly.” _Diary_, vol. i. p. 179, ed. 8vo.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

VERMANDERO, _governor of the castle of Alicant_. ALONZO DE PIRACQUO, } TOMASO DE PIRACQUO, } _brothers_. ALSEMERO. JASPERINO, _his friend_. ALIBIUS, _a doctor, who undertakes the cure of fools and madmen_. LOLLIO, _his man_. ANTONIO, _a pretended changeling_. PEDRO, his friend. FRANCISCUS, _a counterfeit madman_. DE FLORES, _an attendant on Vermandero_. _Madmen._ _Servants._

BEATRICE-JOANNA, _daughter to Vermandero_. DIAPHANTA, _her waiting-woman_. ISABELLA, _wife to Alibius_.

Scene, ALICANT.

THE CHANGELING.