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The duke himself shall call thee his, and single

From the fair troop thy person forth, to exchange

Embraces with, lay siege to these soft lips, And not remove, till he hath suck'd thy heart,

Which soon dissolv'd with thy sweet breath,

shall be

Made part of his, at the same instant he
Conveying a new soul into thy breast
With a creating kiss.

Amidea's first answer to "what is your resolve?" is simply beautiful.

Ami. To have my name
Stand in the ivory register of virgins
When I am dead. Before one factious
thought

Should lurk within me to betray my fame
To such a blot, my hands shall mutiny,
And boldly with a poinard teach my heart
To weep out a repentance.

In the meanwhile, it appears that Amidea had been tenderly beloved by Pisano, who had transferred his affections to Oriana. His friend Cosmo loves Oriana, but shews the depth and sincerity of his friendship, by giving up all claim on her to his rival. We discover, from the first scene of the play, that the Traitor Lorenzo, afraid lest Cosmo might become dangerous in the state, if possessed of Oriana's wealth, had worked upon Pisano to forget his first love, and lay siege to the mistress of his friend. He also hopes that tragical effects to both parties may result from this inconstancy; Both ladies therefore, Amidea and Oriana, are deserted by those they love. This, we think, is rather a clumsy, and not very probable, contrivance, but without doubt, it produces, through out the play, several interesting situations, and much pathos. Amidea's be haviour, when informed by Pisano that she no longer possesses his affections, is touching and dignified; and there is still greater beauty in the scene between Cosmo and Oriana, when he intreats her, with indifference ill assumed and not long preserved, to transfer her love to Pisano. This scene would act well, being full of affection and earnestness, and the language being singularly musical and beautiful. Oriana submits to her fate. "I've heard too much; do with me what you please,

I am all passive-nothing of myself,
But an obedience to unhappiness."

In the third act, preparations for a masque are made in Sciarrha's house,

and there assemble the Duke, Amidea, Lorenzo, Sciarrha, Florio, &c.

Duke. Sciarrha, you exceed in entertain

ment;

Banquet our eyes too?

Lor. He will feast all senses.

Sci. Only a toy, my lord; I cannot call't A masque, not worthy of this presence, yet It speaks the freedom of my heart, and gra-" titude

For this great honour.
Duke. Amidea must
Sit near us.

Sci. Lords, your places; 'twill not be Worth half this ceremony.-Let them begin.

Sciarrha is right in saying that the entertainment which follows can scarcely be called a masque, for it is rather an imitation of the old moralities. The characters are Lust, Youth, Pleasure, Death, and Furies. The whole representation is intended to shadow forth the wickedness of the Duke, and the fate that awaits him. Sciarrha sits by him, explains the spectacle, and watches his unsuspecting victim. After the song of Lust, which contains some strong lines, the Duke asks,

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The harpies mean to dance too.

If this scene is to be retained in the representation, and we presume it will, fine music may render it very impressive. The character of the Duke, and the situation of peril in which his own wickedness has placed him, make the mind willing to receive wild impressions, and to gaze on wild emblems of retribution. We are not well acquainted with the liberties allowed in fitting old plays for the stage, but assuredly a man of genius may render this scene a very striking-even terrible one.

At the close of the masque, Sciarrha brings the Duke to Amidea. This lofty-minded pure-souled lady has resolved to save the Duke's life, by converting him from his wicked purpose against her virtue. Sciarrha and Florio remain concealed to watch the issue of her conversation with the amorous Duke. The whole scene is excellent. The Duke exclaims to Amidea

Duke. That question is propounded time

ly hadst thou

Not interrupted me, I should have lost
Myself upon thy lips, and quite forgot
There is a bliss beyond it, which I came for.
Let others satisfy themselves to read

The wonders in thy face, make proud their
eye,

By seeing thine, turn statues at thy voice,
And think they never fix enough to hear thee.
A man half dead with famine would wish
here

To feed on smiles, of which the least hath
power

To call an anchorite from his prayers, tempt

saints

To wish their bodies on. Thou dost with ease

Captivate kings with every beam, and mayst Lead them like prisoners round about the world,

Proud of such golden chains; this were
enough,

Had not my fate provided more, to make me
Believe myself immortal in thy touches.
Come to thy bed, transform me there to hap-
piness;

I'll laugh at all the fables of the gods,
And teach our poets, after I know thee,
To write the true Elysium.

Amidea, shortly after this, says to a question of the Duke,

Ami. To tell you that you are not virtuous.
Duke. I'm of your mind.
Ami. But I am not so wicked
To be of yours: oh, think but who you are,
Your title speaks you nearest heaven, and
points

You out a glorious reign among the angels;
Do not depose yourself of one, and be
Of the other disinherited.

Finding that Amidea, who has already wounded herself in the arm, is resolved to stab herself to the heart with a poinard, rather than surrender her honour,-the Duke relents and desists from his iniquity.

Duke. Contain; I am sorry, sorry from
my soul,

Trust me, I do bleed inward, Amidea,
Can answer all thy drops: oh, pardon me,
Thou faint'st already, dost not? I am fearful.
The phoenix, with her wings, when she is
dying,

Can fan her ashes into another life;
But when thy breath, more sweet than all
the spice

That helps the other's funeral, returns
To heaven, the world must be eternal loser.
Look to thy wound.

Sciarrha comes from his concealment, and, struck with the remorse and penitence of the Duke, confesses to him the plan of murder concerted between himself and Lorenzo. The Duke being still incredulous of his favourite's guilt, Sciarrha says,

Sci. We will not shift the scene till you
believe it.-

Florio, entreat my lord Lorenzo hither.-
[Exit Florio.

Step but behind the arras, and your ear
Observe but when I tell him you are slain,
Shall tell you who's the greatest traitor living.
How he'll rejoice, and call me Florence' great
Preserver, bless my arm, that in your blood
Hath given our groaning state a liberty;
Then trust Sciarrha.

having overheard the last words of Sci-
Lorenzo is accordingly called in, but
and, instead of rejoicing with Sciarrha
arrha, his wary nature is on its guard,
over the Duke's death, and acknowledg-
ing himself an accessory to the murder,
he assumes the looks and words of the
deepest horror and reprobation. Sci-
arrha, incensed with his hypocrisy,
draws upon him, but the Duke inter-
feres.

Duke. Put up, I say.

Sci. My lord, we are both cozened:
That very smile's a traitor.

Duke. Come, be calm :
You are too passionate Sciarrha, and
Mistook Lorenzo.

Lor. But I hold him noble ;

I see he made this trial of my faith,
And I forgive him.

The scene closes tumultuously-the city having been agitated with the referent factions ripe for action. The port of the Duke's death, and the dif◄ Lorenzo, who finds himself baffled in fourth act opens with a soliloquy of all his ambitious schemes.

Lor. My plots thrive not; my engines

all deceive me,
And in the very point of their discharge
Recoil with danger to myself: are there
No faithful villains left in nature? all
Turn'd honest? man nor spirit aid Lorenzo,
Who hath not patience to expect his fate,
But must compel it. How Sciarrha play'd
The dog-bolt with me! and had not I pro-
vided

In wisdom for him, that distress had ruin'd me.
His frozen sister, Amidea, too,

Hath half converted him; but I must set
New wheels in motion, to make him yet
More hateful, and then cut him from his stalk,
Ripe for my vengeance. I'll not trust the

rabble;

Confusion on ['em!]-the giddy multitude, That, but two minutes ere the Duke came at them,

Bellow'd out Liberty, shook the city with
Their throats, no sooner saw him, but they
melted

And when a pardon was proclaim'd (a fine
With the hot apprehension of a gallows:
State-snaffle for such mules), they turn'd

To acclamations, and deaf'd heaven to beg
their cry
His long and prosperous reign. A sudden rot

Consume this base herd! an the devil want Any cattle for his own teeth, these are for him. He is interrupted by Sciarrha, who comes to demand reparation for the insult given to him by his hypocrisy. Lorenzo, with consummate art, repels the charge, confesses that he had repented of his former guilt, and on offered violence from Sciarrha, calls in his armed attendants. When Sciarrha expects the worst, Lorenzo, with seeming magnanimity, dismisses his friends, and offers Sciarrha his pardon. The hot-blooded and impetuous young man is von over by this consummate hypocrite, and henceforth vows to be his friend. The scene is throughout admirably managed-and, in the alterations of feeling in Sciarrha, and the insidious eloquence of Lorenzo, is displayed a clear and profound insight into human nature. This, too, is a scene that would be most effective in representation.

While Lorenzo and Sciarrha are together, Petruchio, Pisano's servant, brings intelligence that his master is next day to be married to Oriana. Sciarrha, from whom his sister had concealed Pisano's faithlessness, is inHamed to madness.

Sci. Teach fools and children patience.
May dogs eat up Sciarrha: let me live
The prodigy of sorrow; die a death
That may draw tears from Scythians, if Pi-

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[Exit.

Lor. A thousand Furies swell his rage!
although

Pisano bleed, this is the safest killing;
Wise men secure their fates, and execute
Invisibly, like that most subtle flame
That burns the heart, yet leaves no part or
touch

Upon the skin to follow or suspect it.---
Farewell, dull, passionate fool! how this
doth feed me!

Kill, and be lost thyself; or, if his sword Conclude thy life, both ways I am reveng'd. Having thus got Sciarrha into a quarrel which he hopes will prove fatal, Lorenzo again revives the passion of the Duke for Amidea, and promises once more to get her into his power. The Duke's penitence had been but transitory, and he says,

Duke. Do this;

And I'll repent the folly of my penitence,
And take thee to my soul, a nearer pledge,

Than blood or nature gave me: I'm renew'd,
When,
I feel my natural warmth return.

where,

Is this to be expected? I grow old,
While our embraces are deferr'd.

Lor. I go

To hasten your delight; prepare your blood
For amorous game: Sciarrha's fate is cast
Firmer than destiny.

Duke. Thou art me prophet,
I'll raise thee up an altar.

Lor. Trust these brains.

Pisano now leads Oriana to the altar, and on their way thither, the bride catches a glance of her lover Cosmo at a balcony, and faints away.

Pis. Will heaven divorce us ere the priest

have made

Our marriage perfect? we in vain hereafter
Shall hear him teach, that our religion binds
To have the church's ceremony. She returns.
Ori. Why were you so unkind to call me

from

Apleasing slumber? Death has a fine dwelling.
Something spake to me from that window.

Amidea rushes in, and beseeches Pisano to return with Oriana, as her brother is lying in wait for him, to revenge her dishonour. Pisano turns a deaf ear to these intreaties. What follows is exquisite.

Ami. I have done; pray be not angry, That still I wish you well: may heaven divert All harms that threaten you; full blessings

crown

Your marriage! I hope there is no sin in this;
Indeed I cannot choose but pray for you.
This might have been my wedding-day-
Ori. Good heaven,

I would it were! my heart can tell, I take
No joy in being his bride, none in your

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Shall be cut out of marble, where we'll sleep, Free from all care for ever: Death, my lord, I hope, shall be my husband. Now, farewell; Although no kiss, accept my parting tear, And give me leave to wear my willow here. Sciarrha now comes up, and after a short parley, stabs Pisano. Lorenzo having dogged his steps with an armed retinue, takes him prisoner, and makes a shew of offering him protection. Sciarrha says,

Sci. You shall not lose the smallest beam of favour,

To buy a man so desperate. I never Thought death the monster that weak men have fancied,

As foil to make us more in love with life, The devil's picture may affright poor souls Into their bodies' paleness, but the substance To resolute man's a shadow; and cold sweat Dare not approach his forehead. I am armed To die, and give example of that fortitude Shall shame the law's severity: my sister May now give back Pisano his false vows, To line his coffin; one tear shed on me is

Enough, the justice I have done shall make My memory belov'd.

Lorenzo now suggests to Sciarrha, that he may yet save his life by putting Amidea once more in the power of the Duke. This proposal he fiercely spurns at.

Lor. I have done,

And praise your heathen resolution

Of death; go practise immortality,
And tell us, when you can get leave to visit
This world again, what fine things you enjoy
In hell, for thither these rash passions drive
thee:

And ere thy body hath three days inhabited
A melancholy chamber in the earth,
Hung round about with skulls and dead
men's bones,

Ere Amidea hath told all her tears
Upon thy marble, or the epitaph
Bely thy soul, by saying it is fled
To heaven, this sister shall be ravished,
Maugre thy dust and heraldry.
Sci. Ha! ravish'd

When I am dead? Was't not so! oh my soul?

I feel it weep within me, and the tears
Soften my flesh: Lorenzo, I repent
My fury.

Lor. I advis'd you the best way
My wisdom could direct.

Sci. I thank you for't,

You have awak'd my reason, I am asham'd I was no sooner sensible; does the duke Affect my sister still, say you?

Lor. Most passionately.

Sci. She shall obey him then, upon my life;

That's it, my life. I know she loves me dearly.

I shall have much ado to win her to't,
But she shall come; I'll send her.

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And be for ever happy. When these have Only for form but waited on you home, This disengages them.

Sci. My humblest service To the duke I pray, and tell him, Amidea This night shall be at his dispose, by this. Lor. I'm confident; farewell!-Attend Sciarrha.

The last act opens with a very fine scene between Sciarrha and Amidea, that would not have disgraced Shakspeare himself; and which, indeed, at once reminds us of that between Claudio and Isabella in Measure for Measure. Amidea, plunged in profound sorrow for the death of the faithless Pisano, and shuddering at the prospect of her brother's execution, wishes she might be accepted as a sacrifice to avert his punishment.

To save a brother, such a loving brother
Ami. Nothing can be too precious
As you have been.

Sci. Death's a devouring gamester, And sweeps up all: what thinkst thou of an eye?

Couldst thou spare one, and think the blemish recompens'd,

To see me safe with t'other? Or a hand? This white hand, [Amidea,] that hath so often,

With admiration, trembled on the lute,
Till we have pray'd thee leave the strings
awhile,

And laid our ears close to thy ivory fingers,
Suspecting all the harmony proceeded
From their own motion, without the need
Of any dull or passive instrument.

No, Amidea, thou shalt not bear one scar
To buy my life; the sickle shall not touch
A flower that grows so fair upon his stalk;
Thy t'other hand will miss a white com-
panion,

And wither on thy arm: what then can I Expect from thee to save me? I would live,

And owe my life to thee, so 'twere not bought Too dear.

Ami. Do you believe I should not find The way to heaven? were both mine eyes thy ransom,

I shall climb up those high and rugged cliffs Without a hand.

Sci. One way there is, if thou Dost love [me] with that tenderness.

Ami. Pronounce it,

And let no danger that attends, incline you
To make a pause.

Sci.,The duke, thou knowst, didst love thee.
Ami. Ha!

Sci. Nay, do not start already, nor mis-
take me;

I do not as before, make trial of thee,
Whether thou canst, laying aside thy honour,
Meet his lascivious arms; but, by this virtue,
I must beseech thee to forego it all,
And turn a sinful woman.

Ami. Bless me!

Sci. I know the kingdoms of the world
contain not

Riches enough to tempt thee to a fall
That will so much undo thee; but I am
Thy brother, dying brother; if thou lov'st
Him, therefore, that for thee hath done so
much;

Died his pale hands in blood, to revenge thee,
And in that murder wounded his own soul
Almost to death, consent to lose thy innocence;
I know it makes thee grieve, but I shall live
To love thee better for it: we'll repent
Together for our sins, and pray and weep
Till heaven hath pardon'd all.

Ami. Oh, never, never.

Sci. Do but repeat thy words, to save my
life,

And that will teach compassion, my life;
Our shame, the stain of all our family,
Which will succeed in my ignoble death,
Thou washest off.

Ami. But stain myself for ever.
Sci. Where? In thy face, who shall be-

hold one blemish,

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The glory of one fair and virtuous action Is above all the scutcheons on our tomb, Or silkin banners over us.

Sci. So valiant!

I will not interpose another syllable To entreat your pity; say your prayers, and then

Thou'rt ripe to be translated from the earth,
To make a cherubin.

Ami. What means my brother?
Sci. To kill you.

Ami. Do not fright me, good Sciarrha. Sci. And I allow three minutes for devotion.

Ami. Will you murder me?
Sci. Do you tremble?

Ami. Not at the terror of your sword,
But at the horror will affright thy soul,
For this black deed. I see Pisano's blood
Is texted in thy forehead, and thy hands
Retain too many crimson spots already;
Make not thyself, by murthering of thy sister,
All a red letter.

Sci. You shall be the martyr.

Ami. Yet stay; is there no remedy but

death,

And from your hand? then keep your word, and let me

Use one short prayer.

Sci. I shall relent.

[Kneels. [Aside.

Ami. Forgive me, Heaven, and witness

I have still

My virgin thoughts; 'tis not to save my life, But his eternal one.

Sciarrha, give me leave to veil my face.

[Rises.

I dare not look upon you, and pronounce
I am too much a sister; live; hereafter,
I know, you will condemn my frailty for it.
I will obey the duke.

Sci. Darest thou consent? [Stabs her.

When Florio breaks open the door and enters, Amidea, like Desdemona, strives to avert the suspicion of guilt from the murderer.

Ami. I drew the weapon to it: Heaven knows my brother lov'd me: now, I hope,

The duke will not pursue me with new flames. Sciarrha, tell the rest: love one another The time you live together; I'll pray for you In heaven: farewell! kiss me when I am dead, [Dics.

You else will stay my journey.

Sci. Didst not hear

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