"Look you, uncle!
I'll make the saucy traitor feel my power,

Or I will break my heart! He think me fair-
I thank him! Well-proportioned-very much
Beholden to him! Dignified and graceful-
A man of shrewd perception! very !—send him
On expedition of discovery!

Sir William.
Hero.

Whom mean you, Hero?

Whom?-Sir Valentine!

He has made his bow! Indeed, a gracious one-
A stately, courtly, condescending one!
Ne'er may I courtesy, if he bow not lower!
I'll bring him to his knees as a spoiled child
With uplift hands that asketh pardon, then
Command him up, and never see me more!
Sir William.
Hero.
To please him! No, Sir! He is a connoisseur
In dancing!-hath a notion of his own
Of a step! In carriage, attitude, has taste,
Dainty as palate of an epicure,

Why, how hath this befallen?
I did not dance

Which, if you hit not to a hair, disgust

Doth take the place of zest! He is sick of me!
My feet the frolic measure may indulge,

But not my heart-mine eye, my cheek, my lip,
Must not be cognizant of what I do-

As wood and marble could be brought to dance,
And look like wood and marble! I shall teach him

Another style!"

She inquires of Sir William if he will help her out in the scheme she has concocted with a view to bring Sir Valentine to his senses, and to humble himself before her; and the old uncle promises to do anything for her that may be done" in reason;" to which Hero replies,

Are fifty kinds of reason. There's a fool's reason,
And a wise man's reason, and a knave's reason, and
An honest man's reason, and an infant's reason,

And reason of a grandfather-but there's

A reason 'bove them all, and that alone

Can stand me now in stead-a woman's reason!
Wilt thou be subject unto me in that?"

The third Act is a capital one; sentiment, situation, dialogue, and action are excellent throughout. Hero's stratagem is to assume the garb and character of a Quakeress, under the name of Ruth Mapleson, and with the assistance of Clever, who becomes an Obadiah, she succeeds beyond expectation. She retires to her

country-house at Greenwich, to which, by Obadiah's characteristic policy and apparent simplicity, Sir Valentine is induced to repair. He is led to believe that Ruth is niece also to Sir William Sutton, that she is as beautiful as Hero, and though in every respect, as far as exterior goes, the image and even superior of that fickle and giddy one, that their minds, dispositions, and virtues are as different as day is from night,-Ruth of course being, according to Obadiah, all that Sir Valentine ever desired. We must be lavish with our extracts here. Hero enters in disguise.

"Hero.

Sir Valentine.

Well? What's your will?
Forgive me, lady, if,

With occupation of mine eyes, awhile

I did forget the office of my tongue
To give thee 'custom'd salutation.

Still would I gaze, nor speak; art what thou seem'st?

Hero.

Sir Valentine.

What seem I, friend?

Likeness-unlikeness! A thing

Most different and yet the very same!

What I would give averment of most strong-
Again most strong deny! The form of the bane,
With the sweet virtue of the antidote !

The rose was canker'd yesterday, to-day
Freshness and soundness to the very core!
Oh beauty! that doth know its proper pride,
And nothing deigns to ask to set it off
Except simplicity, that offers nought,
Yet all that's due performs! I have not liv'd
Till now!-I have but dealt with shows of life,
Automatons, that do not know themselves,
But act from causes are no part of them!
But here is nature's mechanism-mind
And soul-a body fitting them, informing
With motions of their own.

She insists that he is mad, irrational, or regardless of truth,

"And sooth to say, thy dress of vanity,

Thy looks of wildness, and thy air assur'd,
Where one who knew propriety would feel
Disturbance-this abrupt intrusion, which
Nor leave, nor introduction, nor acquaintance
Doth justify-approve thee void of truth,
Unwise, or nad !—if none of these, a man
Of cloddish nature, base and ignorant !

Sir Valentine. Oh! say not cloddish nature! Say not base

Nor ignorant! It is the dignity

Of man, that the bright stars do tempt his mind

To scan the empyrean where they sit,

Plac'd infinite beyond terrestrial reach,
And scan their uses and their essences,-
High argument of his affinity

To him that made them, and the immortal light
That shall outlast this filmy shadowy sphere
Whereon they look and smile! 'Twas told to me
That thou wast perfect fair-I doubted that,
For I had found, methought, the paragon
Of beauty's wealth in woman! then 'twas said
That thou wast wise-I wish'd thee that, for still,
Tho' oft at fault, in noble house I have lodg'd
Noble inhabitant! 'twas said again

That thou wast good-then I believ'd thee wise,
For wisdom should bear goodness or no fruit!
And, good and wise, believ'd thee fairest too,
And coveted! Nor come I without leave-
Thy simple life eschewing worldly forms,
Was pledge for leave! Nor lack I introduction
That honest errand bring to vouch for me.
Nor, least of all, acquaintance-I have known thee
Since matur'd thought, my nature's fondest wish
Informing, told it loveliness of soul,

Yet more than body, both belong to woman,
-And, therewith when abiding, doth make up
The highest sum that earthly happiness

Amounts to nearest what we hope in Heaven.

Hero.

Friend, dost thou know thou talkest to a worm?"

The Quakeress discourses of worldly vanities; preaches, in this mortal state mankind are subject to evils, diseases, and the like tokens of infirmity and uncertainty; and that beauty is fleeting and worthless.

"Sir Valentine. Thou mean'st the beauty that but meets the eye?
Hero. I mean the beauty thou alone dost see,
And prov'st thou only see'st. Why, what pains
Thou takest with a common piece of clay

To set it off! a fine account to turn

The bow of God to-meant for spiritual,
And not corporeal use-with divers tints
To cloth thy body! besides lading it

With the mind's produce-gems and metals-proof

Far more without concerns thee than within!
Oh! that a nature of immortal reach

Should house its aspirations in a crib

Like this poor tiny world! and, taught to look
Above the coronets of the fair stars,

Go proud with grains of dust and gossamer,
The property of things inferior to him,

As motes unto the sun! But I forget-thy errand?

Sir Valentine.

Love!

Hero.

'Tis clear, thou'rt mad! What! love Whom thou did'st never see?"

Sir Valentine assures her he is not mad, for he maintains that he has seen the object of his present wonderment and adoration often before, that he has talked with her, sat with her, &c. &c., meaning thereby that he has been enchained by the self-same style of beauty," but by another worn."

"Hero.

Sir Valentine.

Thou hast known a maiden like me?
Yes;

I have lov'd a maid, most like thee-most unlike ;

Without, as costly-but within, as poor

To thee, as penury to affluence.

Hero. And did'st thou love and woo her for a month,

And a defaulter thus? "Twas grievous lack

And place.

Nay, but dance.

'Twere out of time

Hero. What, out of time and place, and to

A man of gallantry, to do the thing

A lady wishes him; and he the while

On sufferance in her presence! I do see

Thou art in a grave mood, and for a man to dance,
And look like Solomon, I must suppose

Were more offence to seriousness, than wear

A

cap and bells. Friend, it is very clear

Thou canst not dance, and look like a wise man-
Yet thou didst woo a lady, thou didst say,
And cast her off, because she did not dance
With gravity.

Sir Valentine. She danced with lightness more
Than lightest measure warranted. No thing

A modest woman does-say that it touches
The utmost verge of licence—but that cincture,
Of better proof than zone of adamant,
Its holy and offence-repelling fires

Doth wave around her, that the libertine,
Unwon by honour, yet is tam'd by awe!

She danc'd to gladden eyes whose burning glances
Turn thoughts of honest men on flashing swords,
On flame at stains washed out alone by blood!
The empire of her beauty giving prey

To parasites, who love for their own ends,
And by their homage shame!"

Sir Valentine does not dance, but he consents to become a convert to the simple forms and faith practised and professed by Ruth, to assume the plain name Peter, to reduce his revenue, his mode of living, &c., if she will but lend a favourable ear to his suit. Upon these terms they part, she affecting to be no ways loath to the preliminaries.

In the fourth Act we have Lord Athunree again, with his servile agent Lewson. Their plot is now against Hero at her house in Greenwich; the hireling is to find secret admission; his lordship is to be on the watch, and as soon as he hears the cry of alarm, is to run to the rescue and to make his lodging good. But as Lewson is somewhat stupid, or rather given at times to the weakness of being soft-hearted, it is deemed necessary to write out a few particular instructions as to hours, positions, and movements. The first paper on which these precise things are jotted is not sufficiently correct; therefore Athunree keeps it and makes out another. After this Eustace and Walsingham come across his Lordship, when the stripling accuses his nobility of the crime of murder, and undertakes to prove the charge at the point of the sword. A duel is arranged for the morrow, his Lordship noting down on a piece of paper the appointed time and place, and giving it to the opposite party. This piece of paper is identically the same that had been meant for the instruction of Lewson, but was corrected and copied ; and thus in a clumsy manner is the villanous plot frustrated that might have proved far more disastrous than what had been contrived against Helen Mowbray. It is to Helen Mowbray, in the guise of the stripling Eustace, that the paper is handed. She had been Hero's particular companion, and this is the only link which we can perceive that binds the two stories in the play together. She hastens to apprise her former friend of her danger; and in so far as their severance is concerned, a most loving and confiding stop is put

to it.

We

But ere coming to the winding up of the play or the denouement of its plots, we must have another glimpse of Peter and Ruth. might have before mentioned that Sir Valentine took a false name,