The Constant Lover's Resolution.

To [ITS OWN] PLAY-HOUSE TUNE, I never saw a Face till now.

554

Continuation Verses of "Love and Constancy."

[Originally two verses, written by the Hon. Colonel Sackville, for Thomas Southerne's Disappointment," 1684. The six remaining verses were added, on the well-understood principle of lengthening a Play-house Song to fill a broadside. We give them for completeness, but the song was finished in sixteenth line. Is there some connection between this ditty and "The Twin-Flame" of our p. 392? Compare the comment given on p. 558.

In a Pepysian Royal Garland the extended form is entitled "Love and Constancy.' But in One Hundred and Eighty Loyal Songs, 1685, p. 239, it is named Love in Extremy." Tom D'Urfey's friend Captain Pack composed the music, which is given, along with Sackville's two verses, in Pills to Purge Melancholy (1700, vol. ii.), 1719, iv. 303. See also the The Theater of Musick, Book 1st, 1685.]

Her Eyes they so enchanting are, so lovely is her Face,

That gaze on her no Mortal dare, and not to Love give place.
So musical her Angel-Voice, so charming is she made,

That not to Love none dare make choice, when Phillis does invade.

32

I fain wou'd turn my Eyes away, to try if she'd grow kind,
But on her Beauties they will stay, though ruine were design'd:
A Riddle is my Passion grown, no less it can be said,
For reason is so quickly gone, when Phillis does invade.

40

O cruel Love, why dost thou deign to wound me with such smart,
And not an equal Shaft retain to melt her frozen heart?
Or does she struggle with the Flame to be victorious said?
For if she does, my hopes are vain, though Phillis does invade.

48

However, I will hugg my Woe, and sigh in each sad Grove,
Till the relentless Rocks do know the anguish of my Love.
'Tis she my Fever can allay, no cure but her kind aid
My feverish-passion will obey, since Phillis does invade.

And if she'll ever cruel prove, I'll calmly court my Grave,

For nothing but her happy Love from Death has power to save;
But if I die, I'll bless her name, while Life's last murmur's stay'd,
And still be tender of her fame, that does my life invade.

64

There were other and more dangerous invaders of his life, in Monmouth's case, than a fair lady's fame, which he had done so much to blight. We give him all the credit that is due, for loving the Lady Henrietta Wentworth with more constancy than he had shown for others. If many years had been spared to them, it is not improbable that she might have found him fickle and false to her, even before her beauty wholly waned; and we know that she had resorted to poisonous cosmetics, during the few months before death reunited the lovers. As our motto on the next page we give complete one of Dryden's best lyrics, which tells how "Love has found out a way to live-by dying!"

IT

Monmouth between Love and Ambition.

"No, no, poor suffering Heart, no change endeavour;
Choose to sustain the smart, rather than leave her:
My ravish'd eyes behold such Charms about her,
I can dye with her, but not live without her.
One tender sigh, of her, to see me languish,
Will more than pay the price of my past Anguish.
Beware, Oh cruel Fair! how you smile on me:
'Twas a kind Look of yours that has undone me.
"Love has in store for me one happy Minute,
And she will end my Pain who did begin it:
Then no day void of Bliss and Pleasures leaving,
Ages shall slide away without perceiving.

Cupid shall guard the Door, the more to please us,

And keep out Time and Death when they would seize us;
Time and Death shall depart, and say in flying,

Love has found out a way to Live by Dying!'

-Dryden's Cleomenes. 1692. Music by H. Purcell.

T has been declared, without proof being adduced, that the Lady Henrietta urged Monmouth to the perilous adventure which might win a crown, and that feminine ambition was the motive. We refuse to believe this, although we are the last to forget that in every intrigue and mischief a woman is the chief power of evil. As Juvenal rightly puts it (Satyr vi. 242),

Nulla fere causa est, in quâ non fœmina litem
Moverit.

Monmouth's former attempts at self-aggrandizement were made before his intimacy with Lady Henrietta had become criminal. His own wife had been wrongfully accused of being the earlier instigator of his ambition. But his own vanity, with remembrance of the adulation formerly bestowed on him during his first Western Progress (see Vol. IV. p. 623), and his civic receptions whilst Whigs were Sheriffs and Mayors in London, would be sufficient inducement to make a fresh bid for popularity. There was an evident necessity for some movement; his departure from Holland being expected, in order to satisfy James II., who was already vexed and jealous at the public encouragement of Monmouth so near his shores. What was to be the choice? Why not risk the cast of the die by an expedition to England, instead of trying a military adventurer's life in Sweden or Austria ?

During the previous twelvemonth, until a few weeks ago, there had been times when flattering tongues assured him of the likelihood that Charles the Second might be swayed by the affection which he credulously hoped was paternal, and yield so far as to give his preference to Monmouth and displace York. These had now been proved to have been fallacious hopes. The folly, the rashness, and the besetting sin of ingratitude in Monmouth would have frustrated the

556

Sole remaining chance of safety for Monmouth.

best-laid plans for his advancement, even if these hopes had been more reasonable. We are convinced that Charles never once intended to wrong his brother James, but only to humble him, and abate the tyranny of being under his dictation, by removing him again from Court on the intended recall of Monmouth. This recall was certainly planned, but frustrated.

What was now to be the choice of the disappointed and "Prodigal Son," who was not the heir? Was he, unwillingly, to risk the chances of the die by accepting Argyle's invitation to make a descent on England, and strike in for an overthrow of James the newly-crowned King? Or was there not open to him, at the advice of William and Mary, the possible glory of a military life, in Sweden or Austria at once, and hereafter against France.

If he had the sense to understand it, this was the one chance remaining for him: after his frequent blunders, his disobedience and contumaciousness; his unauthorized return from Scotland, and "Progresses" to stir up disaffection; his connivance with the rebellious schemes of the Abchurch-Lane and Rye-House Plot assassins; his association with those paltry intriguers, Russell, Trenchard, and Hampden, who sought to bring back insurrectionary Civil-War. All along it had been the Dissenters who wrought the evil. It would be the Dissenters, not the Churchmen, who would welcome him back to them if he attempted a Rebellion in the West. Monmouth was no wily intriguer, of indomitable courage and inexhaustible resources. Between him and his late ally, Shaftesbury, there had been few sentiments in common. The Earl was immeasurably his superior in every intellectual quality, and, despite his apparent versatility, held faith in a few repeated artifices; following his intrigues firmly, as any devotee or martyr could have done in their higher consecration. The weakness of Monmouth was absolute. It made him faithless to every cause which he professed to reverence. His vacillations and inconsistencies, his inability to uphold any principle except self-interest; his sensual indulgences, and his willingness to associate with depraved companions, because they flattered him and left him unrestrained by moral influences, would have destroyed every qualification of success as a leader.

Without desiring to enforce too rigid a code of morality on those who by their high station are exposed to more than ordinary temptations, it cannot be forgotten that the loose principles of sensual libertinism speedily corrupt the heart and destroy the sense of honour. Robert Burns knew this, theoretically and practically; he thus, in 1786, sorrowfully declared of such indulgence," But, oh! it hardens a' within, and petrifies the feeling!" The libertine's creed in regard to women was stated before Monmouth's birth, but he seems to have learnt it well. One version is this, of 1650 :—

Various sorts of Women-kind; and Unkind.

A Mistress.

Er for a Mistress fain I would enjoy,
That hangs the lip, and pouts for every Toy;
Speaks like a Wag, is bold, dares stoutly stand,
And bids Love's welcome with a wanton hand;
Who, when we wrestle, for one blow gives three.
And, being thrown, falls straight to kissing me;
For if she lacks the tricks of Cressid, why-
Wer't Dian's self-I could not love her, I.

If she be modest, wise, and chaste of life,
Hang her, she's good for nothing but a Wife!

557

Apparently Monmouth thought so, and although, not considering it necessary to be altogether constant to his Eleanor Needham, to his Henrietta Wentworth, or to their predecessors, he treated them with more affection than he bestowed on the Lady Anne Scott, his Duchess, from whom he had won wealth and name and position. He agreed with the writer of a catch, to which Snow composed music (see Playford's Banquet of Musick, i. 23, 1687):—

Resignation: A Catch.
YE Gods, you gave to me a Wife,

Out of your wonted favour,

To be the comfort of my life;

And I was glad to have her.

But if your Providence divine for something else design her,
T'obey your will, at any time, I'm ready to resign her!

We confess that, as our Roxburghe Ballads prove, it had long been the fashion to rail against wearisome scolding wives, but so had it been regarding cruel mistresses.

One anonymous writer in 1665, or earlier, had written thus, without mentioning whether the subject of his rodomontade was widow, matron, or spinster, though probably not a maiden :

On the foul and False.

:

WIsh not to know this Woman. She is worse

Than all the ingredients made into a Curse.

Were she but ugly, peevish, proud['s a score],
Perjur'd and painted-so she were no more,
I could forgive her, and connive at this,
Alleadging, "Still she but a Woman is!"

But she is worse, and may in time fore-stall
The Devil, and be the 'damning of us all.

This attack was not left long without answer from our side. Let it not be thought, as the wretched revilers of Cavaliers often declare against them, that they could not rise to a higher estimate of women, for here is one of Matthew Stevenson's poems, dated 1665: