And those great virtues that your Fame is made of,
To waste so much breath for a murderers life.
_Lad._ You cannot hate th' offence more than I do, Sir,
Nor the offender, the respect I owe
Unto his absent brother, makes me a suitor,
A most importunate Sister, make me worthy
But of this one request.
_Duke._ I am deaf
To any importunacy, and sorry
For your forgetfulness; you never injur'd
Your worth so much, you ought to be rebuk'd for't:
Pursue good ways, end as you did begin,
'Tis half the guilt to speak for such a sin.
_La._ This is loves beggery right, that now is ours,
When Ladies love, and cannot shew their powers. [_Ex._
_Du. La Nove?_
_1 Gent._ My Lord.
_Duke._ Are these our new Attendants?
_Lap._ We are my Lord, and will endure as much
As better men, my Lord, and more I trust.
_Duke._ What's he?
_1 Gent._ My Lord, a decay'd Gentleman,
That will do any service.
_Duke._ A decay'd one?
_1 Gent._ A renounc'd one indeed: for this place only.
_Duke._ We renounce him then; go, discharge him instantly.
He that disclaims his gentry for meer gains,
That man's too base to make a vassal on.
_Lap._ What says the Duke?
_1 [Gent.]_ Faith little to your comfort, Sir,
You must be a Gentleman agen.
_Lap._ How?
_1 Gent._ There's no remedy.
_Lap._ Marry, the fates forefend: ne'r while I breathe, Sir.
_1 Gent._ The Duke will have it so, there's no resisting,
He spy'd it i' your forehead.
_Lap._ My wife's doing.
She thought she should be put below her betters now,
And su'd to ha' me a Gentleman agen.
_1 Gent._ And very likely, Sir,
Marry, I'll give you this comfort when all's done,
You'll never pass but for a scurvy one,
That's all the help you have: come shew your pace.
_Lap._ The heaviest Gentleman that e'er lost place;
Bear witness, I am forc'd to't. [_Exit._
_Duke._ Though you have a courser Title yet upon you,
Than those that left your places, without blame,
'Tis in your power to make your selves the same:
I cannot make you Gentlemen, that's a work
Rais'd from your own deservings, merit, manners,
And in-born virtue does it. Let your own goodness
Make you so great, my power shall make you greater;
And more t'encourage you, this I add agen,
There's many Grooms, now exact Gentlemen.
_Enter_ Shamont.
_Sham._ Methinks 'tis strange to me to enter here:
Is there in nature such an awful power,
To force me to this place? and make me do this?
Is mans affection stronger than his Will?
His resolution? was I not resolv'd
Never to see this place more? Do I bear
Within my breast one bloud that confounds th' other?
The bloud of Love, and Will, and the last weakest?
Had I ten Millions, I would give it all now,
I were but past it, or 'twould never come;
For I shall never do't, or not do't well,
But spoil it utterly betwixt two passions,
Yonder's the Duke himself, I will not do't now,
Had twenty lives their several sufferings in him. [_Exit._
_Duke._ Who's that went out now?
_Pol._ I saw none my Lord.
_Duke._ Nor you?
_Moul._ I saw the glimpse of one my Lord.
_Duke._ What e'er it was, methought it pleas'd me strangely
And suddenly my joy was ready for't.
Did you not mark it better?
_Pol. & Moul._ Troth my Lord,
We gave no great heed to't.
_Enter_ Shamont.
_Sham._ 'Twill not be answer'd,
It brings me hither still; by main force hither:
Either I must give over to profess humanity,
Or I must speak for him.
_Duke._ 'Tis here agen:
No marvel 'twas so pleasing, 'tis delight
And worth it self, now it appears unclouded.
_Sham._ My Lord--
He turns away from me: by this hand
I am ill-us'd of all sides: 'tis a fault
That fortune ever had t'abuse a goodness.
_Duke._ Methought you were saying somewhat.
_Sham._ Mark the Language,
As coy as fate; I see 'twill ne'er be granted.
_Duke._ We little look'd in troth to see you here yet.
_Sham._ Not till the day after my brother's death, I think.
_Duke._ Sure some great business drew you.
_Sham._ No insooth, Sir,
Only to come to see a brother dye, Sir,
That I may learn to go too; and if he deceive me not,
I think he will do well in't of a soldier,
Manly, and honestly: and if he weep then,
I shall not think the worse on's manhood for't,
Because he's leaving of that part that has it.
_Duke._ Has slain a noble Gentleman, think on't, Sir.
_Sham._ I would I could not, Sir.
_Duke._ Our kinsman too.
_Sham._ All this is but worse, Sir.
_Duke._ When 'tis at worst,
Yet seeing thee, he lives.
_Sham._ My Lord--
_Duke._ He lives,
Believe it as thy bliss, he dies not for't:
Will this make satisfaction for things past?
_Sham._ Oh my Lord--
_Duke._ Will it? speak.
_Sham._ With greater shame to my unworthiness.
_Duke._ Rise then, we're even: I never found it harder
To keep just with a man: my great work's ended.
I knew your brother's pardon was your suit, Sir.
How ever your nice modesty held it back.
_Sham._ I take a joy now, to confess it, Sir.
_Enter 1 Gent._
_1 Gent._ My Lord--
_Duke._ Hear me first, Sir, what e'er your news be:
Set free the Soldier instantly.
_1 Gent._ 'Tis done, my Lord.
_Duke._ How?
_1 Gent._ In effect: 'twas part of my news too,
There's fair hope of your noble kinsman's life, Sir.
_Duke._ What sayst thou?
_1 Gent._ And the most admired change
That living flesh e'r had; he's not the man my Lord;
Death cannot be more free from passions, Sir,
Than he is at this instant: he's so meek now,
He makes those seem passionate, was never thought of:
And for he fears his moods have oft disturb'd you, Sir,
He's only hasty now for his forgiveness,
And here behold him, Sir.
_Enter Passion, the_ Cupid, _and two Brothers_.
_Duke._ Let me give thanks first: our worthy Cosin--
_Pas._ Your unworthy trouble, Sir;
For which, with all acknowledg'd reverence,
I ask your pardon; and for injury
More known and wilful, I have chose a wife,
Without your counsel, or consent, my Lord.
_Duke._ A wife? where is she, Sir?
_Pas._ This noble Gentlewoman.
_Duke._ How?
_Pas._ Whose honor my forgetful times much wrong'd.
_Duke._ He's madder than he was.
_1 Gent._ I would ha' sworn for him.
_Duke._ The _Cupid_, Cosin?
_Pas._ Yes, this worthy Lady, Sir.
_Duke._ Still worse and worse.
_1 Bro._ Our Sister under pardon, my Lord.
_Duke._ What?
_2 Bro._ Which shape Love taught her to assume.
_Duke._ Is't truth then?
_1 Gent._ It appears plainly now, below the waste, my Lord.
_Duke. Shamont_, didst ever read of a She-_Cupid_?
_Sham._ Never in fiction yet: but it might hold, Sir;
For desire is of both Genders.
_Enter the Dukes Sister._
_Duke._ Make that good here: [_He joyns_ Shamont's _hand_
I take thee at thy word, Sir. [_and his Sisters_.
_Sham._ Oh my Lord,
Love would appear too bold, and rude from me,
Honour and admiration are her rights,
Her goodness is my Saint, my Lord.
_Duke._ I see,
Y'are both too modest to bestow your selves:
I'll save that virtue still, 'tis but my pains: come,
It shall be so.
_Sham._ This gift does but set forth my poverty.
_La._ Sir, that which you complain of, is my riches.
_Enter_ Shamont's _brother the Soldier_.
_Duke._ Soldier, now every noise sounds peace, th'art welcome.
_Sol._ Sir, my repentance sues for your blest favour,
Which once obtain'd, no injury shall lose it;
I'll suffer mightier wrongs.
_Duke._ Rise, lov'd and pardon'd:
For where Hope fail'd, nay Art it self resign'd,
Thou'st wrought that cure, which skill could never find;
Nor did there cease, but to our peace extend;
Never could wrongs boast of a nobler end. [_Exeunt._
EPILOGUE.
_Our Poet bid us say for his own part,_
_He cannot lay too much forth of his Art:_
_But fears our over-acting passions may,_
_As not adorn, deface his labour'd Play,_
_Yet still he's resolute, for what is writ_
_Of Nicer valour, and assumes the wit:_
_But for the Love-Scænes which he ever meant_,
Cupid _in's Peticoat should represent,_
_He'll stand no shock of censure; the Play's good,_
_He says he knows it, (if well understood.)_
_But we (blind god) beg, if thou art Divine,_
_Thou'lt shoot thy Arrows round, this Play was thine._
Mr. _Francis Beaumonts_ Letter to _Ben. Johnson_, written before he and
Mr. _Fletcher_ came to _London_, with two of the precedent Comedies
then not finish'd, which deferr'd their merry meetings at the _Mermaid_.
_The Sun which doth the greatest comfort bring_
_To absent friends, because the self-same thing_
_They know they see however absent, is,_
_Here our best Hay-make[r] forgive me this,_
_It is our Countreys stile. In this warm shine,_
_I l[y]e and dream of your full Mermaid Wine._
_Oh we have water mixt with Claret Lees,_
_Drink apt to bring in dryer Heresies_
_Than Beer, good only for the Sonnets strain,_
_With fustian Metaphors to stuff the brain,_
_So mixt, that given to the thirstiest one,_
_'Twill not prove Alms, unless he have the stone:_
_I think with one draught mans invention fades,_
_Two Cups had quite spoil'd_ Homers Illiads;
_'Tis Liquor that will find out_ Sutcliff's _wit,_
_Lye where he will, and make him write worse yet;_
_Fil'd with such moisture in most grievous qualms;_
_Did_ Rob[ert] Wisdom _write his Singing Psalms;_
_And so must I do this, and yet I think_
_It is a potion sent us down to drink,_
_By special Providence keeps us from fights,_
_Makes us not laugh, when we make legs to knights._
_'Tis this that keeps our minds fit for our States,_
_A Medicine to obey our Magistrates_:
_For we do live more free than you, no hate,_
_No envy at one anothers_ [happy] _State_
_Moves us, we are all equal every whit:_
_Of Land that God gives men here is their wit:_
_If we consider fully, for our best,_
_And gravest men will with his main house jest,_
_Scarce please you; we want subtilty to do_
_The City tricks, lye, hate, and flatter too:_
_Here are none that can bear a painted show,_
_Strike when you winch, and then lament the blow:_
_Who like Mills set the right way for to grind,_
_Can make their gains alike with every wind:_
_Only some fellows with the subtil'st pate_
_Amongst us, may perchance equivocate_
_At selling of a Horse, and that's the most._
_Methinks the little wit I had is lost_
_Since I saw you, for Wit is like a Rest_
_Held up at Tennis, which men do the best,_
_With the best gamesters: what things have we seen,_
_Done at the_ Mermaid! _heard words that have been_
_So nimble, and so full of subtil flame,_
_As if that every one from whence they came,_
_Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest,_
_And had resolv'd to live a fool, the rest_
_Of his dull life; then when there hath been thrown_
_Wit able enough to justifie the Town_
_For three days past, wit that might warrant be_
_For the whole City to talk foolishly_
_Till that were cancell'd, and when that was gone,_
_We left an Air behind us, which alone,_
_Was able to make the two next Companies_
_Right witty; though but downright fools, more wise._
_When I remember this, and see that now_
_The Countrey Gentlemen begin to allow_
_My wit for dry bobs, then I needs must cry,_
_I see my days of Ballating grow nigh;_
_I can already Riddle, and can Sing_
_[Ca]tches, sell bargains, and I fear shall bring_
_My self to speak the hardest words I find,_
_Over, as oft as any, with one wind,_
_That takes no medicines: But one thought of thee_
_Makes me remember all these things to be_
_The wit of our young men, fellows that show_
_No part of good, yet utter all they know:_
_Who like trees of the Guard, have growing souls._
_Only strong destiny, which all controuls,_
_I hope hath left a better fate in store,_
_For me thy friend, than to live ever poor,_
_Banisht unto this home; fate once again_
_Bring me to thee, who canst make smooth and plain_
_The way of Knowledge for me, and then I,_
_Who have no good but in thy company,_
_Protest it will my greatest comfort be_
_To acknowledge all I have to flow from thee_.
Ben. _when these_ Scænes _are perfect, we'll taste wine;_
_I'll drink thy Muses health, thou shalt quaff mine_.
The Honest Man's Fortune.
A TRAGI-COMEDY.
The Persons represented in the Play.
Duke of _Orleans, a spleenful detracting Lord_.
{ _Brother-in-law to_ Orleans,
Earl of { _a noble accomplish'd_
_Amiens_, { _Gentleman, servant to_
{ Lamira.
Mountague, _an honest Lord_.
Du-boys, } _Two faithful followers_
Longueville, } _of_ Mountague.
Voramer, _the loving and loyal Page of_ Mountague.
La Verdine, _a knavish Courtier_.
La Poop, _a foisting Captain_.
Mallicorn, _a sharking Citizen_.
Two Lawyers.
Two Creditors.
Officers.
Servants.
WOMEN.
Duchess of { _a virtuous Lady, and_
_Orleans_, { _chaste, (but suspected)_
{ _wife to the Duke_.
Lamira, _a modest Virgin, and a Lady, rich and noble_.
Charlotte, Lamira's _Woman_.
The Scene France.
The Principal Actors were
_Nathan Field_,
_Rob. Benfield_,
_Emanuel Read_,
_Joseph Taylor_,
_Will. Eglestone_,
_Thomas Basse_.
_Actus Primus. Scæna Prima._
_Enter the Duke of_ Orleance, _and the Earl of_ Amiens,
_at several doors_.
_Amiens._ Morrow, my Lord of _Orleans_.
_Orl._ You salute me like a stranger; brother _Orleance_ were to me
a Title more belonging, whom you call the Husband of your Sister.
_Ami._ Would the circumstances of your brotherhood had never
offer'd cause to make our conversation less familiar: I meet you
like a hindrance in your way: your great Lawsuit is now upon the
tongue, and ready for a judgement.
_Orl._ Came you from the Hall now?
_Ami._ Without stay; the Court is full, and such a press of people
does attend the issue, as if some great man were brought to his
arraignment.
_Orl._ Every mothers son of all that multitude of hearers, went to
be a witness of the misery your Sisters fortunes must have come to,
if my adversary who did love her first, had been her Husband.
_Ami._ The success may draw a testimony from them, to confirm the
same opinion, but they went prepar'd with no such hope or purpose.
_Orl._ And did you intreat the number of them, that are come with
no such hope or purpose.
_Ami._ Tush, your own experience of my heart can answer ye.
_Orl._ This doubtful, makes me clearly understand your disposition.
_Ami._ If your cause be just,
I wish you a conclusion like your cause.
_Orl._ I can have any common charity to such a Prayer
From a friend I would expect a love to prosper in;
Without exceptions such a love as might
Make all my undertakings thankful to't;
Precisely just is seldom faithful in our wishes
To another mans desires: Farewel. [_Exit_ Orl.
_Enter_ Montague _having a Purse_, Duboys, Longueville,
_and_ Voramer _the Page, with two Caskets_.
_Dub._ Here comes your adversarie's brother-in-law.
_Long._ The Lord of _Amiens_.
_Dub._ From the Hall I think.
_Ami._ I did so: save your Lordship.
_Mount._ That's a wish my Lord, as courteous to my present state,
As ever honest mind was thankful for;
For now my safety must expose it self
To question: yet to look for any free
Or hearty salutation (Sir) from you
Would be unreasonable in me.
_Ami._ Why?
_Mont._ Your Sister is my adversarie's wife;
That nearness needs must consequently draw
Your inclination to him.
_Ami._ I will grant
Him all the nearness his alliance claims,
And yet be nothing less impartial,
My Lord of _Montague_.
_Mont._ Lord of _Montague_ yet:
But (Sir) how long the dignity or state
Belonging to it will continue, stands
Upon [t]he dangerous passage of this hour.
Either for evermore to be confirm'd,
Or like the time wherein 'twas pleaded, gone:
Gone with it, never to be call'd again.
_Ami._ Justice direct your process to the end;
To both your persons my respect shall still
Be equal; but the righteous cause is that
Which bears my wishes to the side it holds,
Where, ever may it prosper. [_Exit_ Amiens.
_Mont._ Then my thanks
Are proper to you, if a man may raise
A confidence upon a lawful ground
I have no reason to be once perplex'd
With any doubtful motion, _Longue[v]ille_,
That Lord of _Amiens_, (didst observe him?) has
A worthy nature in him.
_Long._ Either 'tis his nature or his cunning.
_Mont._ That's the vizard of most mens actions,
Whose dissembled lives
Do carry only the similitude
Of goodness on 'em: but for him
Honest [b]ehaviour makes a true report,
What disposition does inhabit him,
Essential virtue.
_Long._ Then 'tis pity that
Injurious _Orleans_ is his brother.
_Dub._ He is but his brother-in-law.
_Long._ Law? that's as bad.
_Dub._ How is your Law as bad? I rather wish
The hangman thy Executor than that
Equivocation should be ominous.
_Enter two Lawyers, and two Creditors._
_Long._ Some of your Lawyers--
_1 Law._ What is ominous?
_2 Law._ Let no distrust trouble your Lordships thought.
_1 Law._ The evidences of your question'd Land
Ha' not so much as any literal
Advantage in 'em to be made against
Your Title.
_2 Law._ And your Council understands
The business fully.
_1 Law._ Th'are industrious, just.
_2 Law._ And very confident.
_1 Law._ Your state endures
A voluntary trial; like a man
Whose honors are maliciously accus'd.
_2 Law._ The accusation serves to clear his cause.
_1 Law._ And to approve his truth more.
_2 Law._ So shall all
Your adversarie's pleadings strengthen your
Possession.
_1 Law._ And be set upon record
To witness the hereditary right
Of you and yours.
_2 Law._ Courage, you have the law.
_Long._ And you the profits.
_Mont._ If discouragement
Could work upon me, your assurances
Would put me strongly into heart again;
But I was never fearful: and let fate
Deceive my expectation, yet I am
Prepared against dejection.
_1 Cre._ So are we.
_2 Cre._ We have received a comfortable hope
That all will speed well.
_Long._ What is he _Duboys_?
_Dub._ A Creditor.
_Long._ I thought so, for he speaks
As if he were a partner in his state.
_Mont._ Sir, I am largely indebted to your loves.
_Long._ More to their purses.
_M[o]nt._ Which you shall not lose.
_1 Cred._ Your Lordship.
_Dub._ That's another creditor.
_1 Cred._ Has interest in me.
_Long._ You have more of him.
_1 Cred._ And I have had so many promises
From these, and all your learned Counsellors;
How certainly your cause will prosper: that--
_Long._ You brought no Serjeants with you?
_Dub._ To attend his ill success.
_Mont._ Good Sir, I will not be
Unthankful either to their industries
Or your affections.
_1 Law._ All your Land (my Lord)
Is at the barr now, give me but ten Crowns
I'll save you harmless.
_Long._ Take him at his word;
If he does lose, you're sav'd by miracle,
For I never knew a Lawyer yet undone.
_1 Law._ Then now you shall, Sir, if this prospers not.
_Long._ Sir, I beseech you do not force your voice
To such a loudness, but be thrifty now;
Preserve it till you come to plead at bar
It will be much more profitable in
The satisfaction than the promise.
_1 Law._ Is not this a satisfaction to engage
My self for this assurance, if he--
_Mont._ No Sir, my ruin never shall import
Anothers loss, if not by accident,
And that my purpose is not guilty of:
You [are] engag'd in nothing but your care. [_Ex. Law._
Attend the Procurator to the Court,
Observe how things incline, and bring me word.
_Long._ I dare not, Sir, if I be taken there,
Mine ears will be in danger.
_Mont._ Why? hast thou
Committed something that deserves thine ears?
_Long._ No, but I fear the noise; my hearing will be
Perished by the noise; 'tis as good 't want
[A member, as to loose the use--]
_Mont._ The ornament is excepted.
_Long._ Well my Lord
I'll put 'em to the hazard. [_Exit_ Long.
_1 Cred._ Your desires be prosperous to you.
_2 Cred._ Our best Prayers wait
Upon your fortune. [_Exeunt_ Cred.
_Dub._ For your selves, not him.
_Mont._ Thou canst not blame 'em: I am in their debts.
_Ver._ But had your large expence (a part whereof
You owe 'em) for unprofitable Silks
And Laces, been bestowed among the poor,
That would have prayed the right way for you:
Not upon you.
_Mont._ For unprofitable Silks
And Laces? now believe me honest boy
Th'ast hit upon a reprehension that belongs
Unto me.
_Ver._ By ---- my Lord,
I had not so unmannerly a thought,
To reprehend you.
_Mont._ Why I love thee for't.
Mine own acknowledgement confirms thy words:
For once I do remember, comming from
The Mercers, where my Purse had spent it self
On those unprofitable toys thou speak'st of,
A man half naked with his poverty
Did meet me, and requested my relief:
I wanted whence to give it, yet his eyes
Spoke for him, those I could have satisfied
With some unfruitful sorrow, (if my tears
Would not have added rather to his grief,
Than eas'd it) but the true compassion that
I should have given I had not: this began
To make me think how many such mens wants
The vain superfluous cost I wore upon
My outside would have clothed, and left my self
A habit as becomming: to increase
This new consideration there came one
Clad in a garment plain and thrifty, yet
As decent as these fair dear follies; made
As if it were of purpose to despise
The vanity of shew: his purse had still
The power to do a charitable deed,
And did it.
_Dub._ Yet your inclination, Sir,
Deserv'd no less to be commended, than his action.
_Mont._ Prethee do not flatter me;
He that intends well, yet deprives himself
Of means, to put his good thoughts into deed,
Deceives his purpose of the due reward
That goodness merits: oh antiquity
Thy great examples of Nobility
Are out of imitation, or at least
So lamely follow'd, that thou art as much
Before this age in virtue, as in time.
_Dub._ Sir, it must needs be lamely followed, when
The chiefest men love to follow it
Are for the most part cripples.
_Mont._ Who are they?
_Dub._ Soldiers, my Lord, soldiers.
_Mont._ 'Tis true _Duboys_: but if the law disables me no more
For Noble actions, than good purposes,
I'll practice how to exercise the worth
Commended to us by our ancestors;
The poor neglected soldier shall command
Me from a Ladies Courtship, and the form
I'll study shall no more be taught me by
The Taylor, but the Scholar; that expence
Which hitherto has been to entertain
Th' intemperate pride and pleasure of the taste
Shall fill my Table more to satisfie,
And less to surfeit.
What an honest work it would be; when we find
A Virgin in her poverty, and youth
Inclining to be tempted, to imploy
As much perswasion, and as much expence
To keep her upright, as men use to do upon her falling.
_Dub._ 'Tis charity that many Maids will be unthankful for,
And some will rather take it for a wrong,
To buy 'em out of their inheritance,
The thing that they were born to.
_Enter_ Longueville.
_Mont. Longueville_, thou bringst a chearful promise in thy face.
There stands no pale report upon thy cheek,
To give me fear or knowledge of my loss, 'tis red and lively.
How proceeds my suit?
_Long._ That's with leave, Sir, a labour that to those of _Hercules_,
May add another; or (at least) be call'd
An imitation of his burning shirt:
For 'twas a pain of that [un]merciful
Perplexity, to shoulder through the throng
Of people that attended your success:
My sweaty linnen fixt upon my skin,
Still as they pull'd me, took that with it; 'twas
A fear I should have left my flesh among 'em:
Yet I was patient, for (methought) the toil
Might be an emblem of the difficult
And weary passage to get out of Law.
And to make up the dear similitude,
When I was forth seeking my handkerchief
To wipe my sweat off, I did find a cause
To make me sweat more, for my Purse was lost
Among their fingers.
_Dub._ There 'twas rather found.
_Long._ By them.
_Dub._ I mean so.
_Mont._ Well, I will restore
Thy damage to thee: how proceeds my suit?
_L[o]ng._ Like one at Brokers; I think forfeited.
Your promising Counsel at the first
Put strongly forward with a labour'd speed,
And such a violence of pleading, that
His Fee in Sugar-candy scarce will make
His throat a satisfaction for the hurt
He did it, and he carried the whole cause
Before him, with so clear a passage, that
The people in the favour of your side
Cried _Montague, Montague_: in the spight of him
That cryed out silence, and began to laugh
Your adversaries advocate to scorn:
Who like a cunning Footman set me forth
With such a temperate easie kind of course
To put him into exercise of strength,
And follow'd his advantages so close,
That when your hot mouth'd pleader thought h' had won,
Before he reacht it, he was out of breath,
And then the other stript him.
_Mont._ So all is lost.
_Long._ But how I know not; for, (methought) I stood
Confounded with the clamour of the Court,
Like one embark'd upon a storm at Sea,
Where the tempestuous noise of Thunder mixt
With roaring of the billows, and the thick,
Imperfect language of the Sea-men, takes
His understanding and his safety both
Together from him.