From thence to honour thee, I would not seek 35 Pacuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead, Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not please; As they were not of Nature's family. And himself with it, that he thinks to frame; 65 And such wert thou! Look how the father's face Of Shakespeare's mind and manners brightly shines In each of which he seems to shake a lance, 70 As brandished at the eyes of ignorance. Sweet Swan of Avon! what a sight it were To see thee in our waters yet appear, And make those flights upon the banks of Thames, 75 But stay, I see thee in the hemisphere Advanced, and made a constellation there! Shine forth, thou Star of Poets, and with rage, Or influence, chide, or cheer the drooping stage, Which, since thy flight from hence, hath mourned like night, 80 And despairs day but for thy volume's light. FRANCIS BEAUMONT and JOHN FLETCHER. FRANCIS BEAUMONT (1584-1616) was five years younger than his literary partner JOHN FLETCHER (1579-1625), but died nine years before him. They both came of good family the first being a lawyer's, the second a bishop's son and both received a university education. Early they contracted a warm friendship for each other, which became so close, that they lived together in the same house in Southwark, till Beaumont married about 1613. No less than 52 plays have been published under their names; but it cannot be made out how far they were joint productions of the two, or the sole property of one or the other. They all show a remarkable verbal felicity and a great naturalness in their dialogues, a delightful ease and grace in their versification, and a great knowledge of stage effect, which kept them on the stage till the beginning of the 19th century. Their plots, however, though skilfully woven, are not free from improbable situations and unnatural characters. Beaumont and Fletcher's dramatic work is also interesting for the marked Spanish influence which can be traced in many of their plays. Unfortunately some of them are disfigured by a certain vulgarity or licentiousness. The best-known of their numerous plays are probably: The Knight of the Burning Pestle (1608?), A King and no King, Philaster (before 1611), The Maid's Tragedy (before 1611), Thierry and Theodoret (ab. 1616). The songs and lyrical pieces scattered throughout all the plays are of exquisite beauty and delicate sweetness. The charming pastoral, The Faithful Shepherdess (1609?), by Fletcher alone, is an improvement on Ben Jonson's Sad Shepherd, and a worthy precursor of Milton's Comus. From PHILASTER. Act I, Scene 2. (Philaster, heir to the King of Sicily, who had been unjustly deposed by the King of Calabria, wins the love of the king's daughter Arethusa.) Philaster. Madam, your messenger Made me believe you wished to speak with me. Arethusa. 'Tis true, Philaster; but the words are such I have to say, and do so ill beseem The mouth of woman, that I wish them said, And yet am loath to speak them. Have you known That I have aught detracted from your worth? Have I in person wronged you? or have set My baser instruments to throw disgrace 10 Upon your virtues? Phi. Never, madam, you. Are. Why, then, should you, in such a public place, Upon my fortunes, famed to be so great, Calling a great part of my dowry in question? 15 Phi. Madam, this truth which I shall speak will be I could afford myself to have no right 20 Are. Both, or I die: By fate, I die, Philaster, Phi. I would do much to save that noble life: 25 His right unto a scepter and a crown Are. Nay, then, hear: I must and will have them, and more Phi. What more? Are. Or lose that little life the gods prepared To trouble this poor piece of earth withal. Phi. Madam, what more? 30 Turn, then, away thy face. Do. Phi. I can endure it. Turn away my face? I never yet saw enemy that looked So dreadfully, but that I thought myself 35 As great a basilisk as he; or spake So horribly, but that I thought my tongue Nor beast that I could turn from: shall I then 45 50 A thing so loathed, and unto you that ask Of so poor use, that I shall make no price: Are. Yet for my sake, a little bend thy looks. Are. With it, it were too little to bestow On thee: Now, though thy breath do strike me dead, (Which, know, it may) I have unript my breast. Phi. Madam, you are too full of noble thoughts, To lay a train for this contemned life, 55 Which you may have for asking: to suspect Were base, where I deserve no ill: Love you! By all my hopes, I do, above my life! But how this passion should proceed from you So violently, would amaze a man 60 That would be jealous. Are. Another soul into my body shot Could not have filled me with more strength and spirit In seeking how I came thus: 'tis the gods, our love 65 The gods, that make me so; and, sure, Phi. I should abide here long. Are. "Twill be ill, 'Tis true; and worse Sent by the gods, I hope, to this intent 90 Leaving him to the mercy of the fields, Which gave him roots; and of the crystal springs, Express'd his grief; and, to my thoughts, did read 100 Have studied it. I gladly entertained Him, who was glad to follow; and have got Act II, Scene 1. (Philaster prefers Bellario to the service of Arethusa.) Phi. And thou shalt find her honourable, boy, For thine own modesty; and for my sake, 5 Ay, or deserve. Bell. Sir, you did take me up when I was nothing, And only yet am something by being yours; You trusted me unknown; and that which you were apt To construe a simple innocence in me, 10 Perhaps might have been craft, the cunning of a boy Harden'd in lies and theft; yet ventured you To part my miseries and me; for which, I never can expect to serve a lady That bears more honour in her breast than you. 15 Phi. But, boy, it will prefer thee; thou art young, And bear'st a childish overflowing love To them that clap thy cheeks, and speak thee fair yet. But when thy judgment comes to rule those passions, Thou wilt remember best those careful friends 20 That placed thee in the noblest way of life: She is a princess I prefer thee to. Bell. In that small time that I have seen the world, I never knew a man hasty to part With a servant he thought trusty; I remember, 25 My father would prefer the boys he kept To greater men than he, but did it not Till they were grown too saucy for himself. 30 A fault of ignorance, instruct my youth; 40 Rather than turn me off; and I shall mend. Phi. Thy love doth plead so prettily to stay, |