t Lover_.

Among the Ashmolean MSS. (Vol. 38. No. 88) are preserved forty-six
lines[130] signed with the name of "Henrye Sherley." They begin thus:--

"Loe, Amorous style, affect my pen:
For why? I wright of fighting men;
The bloody storye of a fight
Betwixt a Bayliffe and a Knight," &c.

My good friend Mr. S.L. Lee, of Balliol, kindly took the trouble to
transcribe the forty-six lines; but he agrees with me that they are not
worth printing.

The _Martyr'd Souldier_, then, being his sole extant production, it must
be confessed that Henry Shirley's claim to attention is not a very
pressing one. Yet there is a certain dignity of language in this old
play that should redeem it from utter oblivion. It was unfortunate for
Henry Shirley that one of the same name should have been writing at the
same time; for in such cases the weakest must go to the wall. Mr.
Frederick Tennyson's fame has been eclipsed by the Laureate's; and there
was little chance of a hearing for the author of the _Martyr'd Souldier_
when James Shirley was at work. From the address _To the Courteous
Reader_, it would seem that Henry Shirley did not seek for popularity:
"his Muse," we are told, was "seldome seene abroad." Evidently he was
not a professional playwright. In his attempts to gain the ear of the
groundlings he is often coarse without being comic; and sometimes (a
less pardonable fault) he is tedious. But in the person of Hubert we
have an attractive portrait of an impetuous soldier, buoyed up with
self-confidence and hugging perils with a frolic gaiety; yet with
springs of tenderness and pity ready to leap to light. The writer
exhibits some skill in showing how this fiery spirit is tamed by the
gentle maiden, Bellina. When the news comes that Hubert has been made
commander of the King's forces against the Christians, we feel no
surprise to see that in the ecstacy of the moment he has forgotten his
former vows. It is quite a touch of nature to represent him hastening to
acquaint Bellina with his newly-conferred honour and expecting her to
share his exultation. But the maiden's entreaties quickly wake his
slumbering conscience; and, indeed, such earnestness is in her words
that a heart more stubborn than Hubert's might well have been moved:--

"You courted me to love you; now I woe thee
To love thy selfe, to love a thing within thee
More curious than the frame of all this world,
More lasting than this Engine o'