comes upon the scene a professed and daring infidel, and, like all other infidels, a fatalist; a shameless avower and justifier of his impure purpose. Annabella is not a jot behind him in precocity of vice; and, as appears from a confession wrung from her with little effort, had long suffered her thoughts to wander in the same polluted path as her brother. And though her conscience, as she subsequently professes, stood up

against her lust,' it was not till the ominous solitude to which she was condemned by her husband convinced her that speedy and fearful vengeance was about to overwhelm her. After all, her repentance is of a very questionable nature; while, on his part, Giovanni continues to accumulate crime on crime, till the harassed mind can bear no more."

The year that witnessed the appearance of this tragedy, also witnessed that of The Broken Heart. This, too, is full of horrors; but we have had enough of them, and will give no analysis of the plot. It is, like The Lover's Melancholy, beautifully poetic and that is its great charm; for the incidents are improbable, unnatural. It must be read for its poetry alone. The same year, too (1633), was remarkable for another drama, Love's Sacrifice. This is much inferior to either of the preceding. Some fine passages it has; but the plot is singularly defective; and the characters are not well supported: they go from crime to crime, until we cease to take the least interest in them. In fact, by this time, every reader of Ford had had enough of the horrible, and some change was required to gratify a different appetite. He knew this, and in 1634 he produced his only historical drama, Perkin Warbeck. This is generally esteemed to be the greatest of his performances. It has been highly praised. "It is," observes a critic, "so admirably conducted, so adorned with poetic sentiments, so full of fine discrimination of character and affecting incidents, that we cannot help

regarding that audience. as greatly disgraced which

having once witnessed its representation, did not secure its perpetuity on the English stage. If any (historic) play in our language can induce us to admit the lawfulness of a comparison with Shakespear, it is this." This is strong language: let us examine how far it is justified.

The incidents which constitute the plot of Perkin Warbeck are almost entirely taken from Bacon's History of Henry VII. The drama opens in the royal presence chamber at Westminster; and Henry then addresses his councillors, the bishop of Durham, sir William Stanley, the lords Oxford, Surrey, and Dawbeney:

"K. Hen. Still to be haunted, still to be pursued, Still to be frighted with false apparitions

Of pageant majesty, and new-coin'd greatness,
As if we were a mockery king in state,

Only ordain'd to lavish sweat and blood,

In scorn and laughter, to the ghosts of York,
Is all below our merits; yet, my lords,

My friends and counsellors, yet we sit fast
In our own royal birth-right: the rent face

And bleeding wounds of England's slaughter'd people,

Have been by us, as by the best physician,

And last both thoroughly cured, and set in safety;
And yet, for all this glorious work of peace,
Ourself is scarce secure.

This new trouble is Perkin Warbeck, who gives himself out as Richard, son of Edward IV. and brother of Edward V., and who pretends to have escaped the fate of that brother when murdered in the Tower by the usurper, his uncle. The dramatist represents this adventurer as really a prince, as in every respect what he seemed; and, consequently, as having a better claim to the throne than the actual possessor. Fortunately for Henry, sir Robert Clifford, who had been in the confidence of Perkin, unfolds the whole plot to him, and enables him to take measures for frustrating it. He removes to the Tower, not so much for security as that he may seize those whom he has reason to distrust. It

- indeed time for him to be resolute his chomh rlain

*Chaplain of Henry.

In the meantime the pretender, after an unsuccessful attempt in Ireland, proceeds to Scotland, where he is well received by James IV. That monarch, being won by his manners, engages to assist him in the vindication of his rights; and even bestows upon him the hand of Katherine Huntley, a princess of his own house. The earl, her father, who is not so much taken by the appearance of Warbeck, at first opposes the match; but he is soon forced to yield. The character of this lady is well drawn. She is soon attached to the stranger; whom the poet makes as interesting as he can. Troops are raised in Scotland; while ten thousand Cornish rebels march towards London to effect a diversion in the favour of Warbeck. But Henry is not to be surprised. On one side, he sends the bishop of Durham to fortify Norham Castle, and orders Surrey to follow with a considerable force: on the other, he purposes to meet the Cornish insurgents. Them he soon discomfits: our attention must now rest in the north.

The parting of Warbeck from his bride, the eve of his expedition to the border, is well described :