o receive
Don Manuel.

_Amid_. I take it half unkindly,
You give me from yourself so soon: Don Manuel,
I know, is worthy, and, but yesterday,
Preserved my life; but, it will take some time
To change my heart.

_Man_. I'll watch it patiently, as chemists do
Their golden birth; and, when 'tis changed, receive it
With greater care than they their rich elixir,
Just passing from one vial to another.

_Rod_. Julia is still my brother's, though I lose her.

_Gons_. You shall not lose her; Julia was born
For none but you;
And I for none but my Honoria:
Julia is yours by inclination;
And I, by conquest, am Honoria's.

_Hon_. 'Tis the most glorious one that e'er was made:
And I no longer will dispute my happiness.

_Rod_. Julia, you know my peevish jealousies;
I cannot promise you a better husband
Than you have had a servant.

_Jul_. I receive you
With all your faults.

_Rod_. And think, when I am froward,
My sullen humour punishes itself:
I'm like a day in March, sometimes o'ercast
With storms, but then the after clearness is
The greater. The worst is, where I love most,
The tempest falls most heavy.

_Jul_. Ah! what a little time to love is lent!
Yet half that time is in unkindness spent.

_Rod_. That you may see some hope of my amendment,
I give my friendship to Don Manuel, ere
My brother asks, or he himself desires it.

_Man_. I'll ever cherish it.

_Gons_. Since, for my sake, you become friends, my care
Shall be to keep you so. You, captain, shall
Command this carrack, and, with her, my fortunes.
You, my Honoria, though you have an heart
Which Julia left, yet think it not the worse;
'Tis not worn out, but polished by the wearing.
Your merit shall her beauty's power remove;
Beauty but gains, obligement keeps our love.

[_Exeunt_.

THE
INDIAN QUEEN,
A
TRAGEDY,

WRITTEN BY THE
HON. SIR ROBERT HOWARD,
AND
MR DRYDEN.

THE INDIAN QUEEN

The plays of Sir Robert Howard were tolerated by his contemporaries,
on account of the rank, gallantry, and loyalty, of the author; at
least, we are now unable to discover any better reason for their
success. The Committee, alone, kept possession of the stage till our
time; and that solely supported by the humours of Teague, an honest
blundering Irish footman, such as we usually see in a modern farce.
From a hint, given by Langbaine, Sir Robert Howard seems to have been
suspected of frequent plagiarisms. At any rate it is certain, that, in
the