(He weeps.

me.

Pier. Curse on this weakness!
Enter JAFFIER.

Juf. Tears! Amazement! Tears !
Jaf. Hold: eyes, be dry;

I never saw thee melted thus before; Heart, strengthen me to bear

And know there's something labouring in thy This hideous sight, and humble me, to take

bosom, The last forgiveness of a dying friend,

That must have vent: Thoagh I'm a villain, tell Betrayed by my vile falschood, to his ruin. Oh, Pierre?

Pier. Seest thou that engine? Pier. Yet nearer.

(Pointing to the wheel. Jaf. Crawling on my knees,

Jaf. Why? ? And prostrate on the earth, let me approach thee: Pier. Is't fit a soldier, who has lived with How shall I look up to thy injured face,

honour, That always used to smile with friendship on me? Fought nations' quarrels, and been crowned with It darts an air of so much manly virtue,

conquest, That I, methinks, look little in thy sight, Be exposed a common carcase on a wheel? And stripes are fitter for me, than embraces.

Jaf. Ha!
Pier. Dear to my arms, though thou'st undone Pier. Speak! is it fitting?
my fame,

Jaf. Fitting!
I can't forget to love thee. Prithee, Jaffier, Pier. Yes; is it fitting?
Forgive that filtlıy blow my passion dealt thee; Jaf. What's to be done?
I'm now preparing for the land of peace,

Pier, I'd have thee undertake
And fain would have the charitable wishes Something that's noble, to preserve my memory
Of all good men, like thee, to bless my journey. From the disgrace that's ready to attaint it.
Jaf. Good! I am the vilest creature, worse Offi. The day grows late, sir.
than e'er

Pier. I'll make haste. Oh, Jaffier ! Suffer’d the shameful fate, thou’rt going to taste of. Though thou'st betrayed me, do me some way Why was I sent for to be used thus kindly?

justice. Call, call me villain, as I am! describe

Jaf. No more of that: thy wishes shall be saThe foul complexion of my hateful deeds :

tisfied; Lead me to the rack, and stretch me in thy I have a wife, and she shall bleed: my child, stead!

too,
I have crimes enough to give it its full load, Yield up his little throat, and all
And do it credit: thou wilt but spoil the use of it-To appease thee
And honest men hereafter bear its figure

ĮGoing away, PIERRE holds him. About them, as a charm from treacherous friend Pier. No-this-no more. ship.

[He whispers JAFFIER. Offi. The time grows short, your friends are Jaf. Ha! is't then so? dead already.

Pier. Most certainly. Jaf. Dead!

Jaf. I'll do it. Pier. Yes, dead, Jaffier; they have all died Pier. Remember. like men, too,

Offi. Sir! Worthy their character.

Pier. Come, now I'm ready. Jaf. And what must I do?

[He and JAFFIER ascend the scepold. Pier. Oh, Jaffier!

Captain, you should be a gentleman of honour; Jaf. Speak aloud thy burthened soul, Keep off the rabble, that I may have room And tell thy troubles to thy tortured friend. To entertain my fate, and die with decency. Pier. Friend! Could'st thou yet be a friend, a Come. [Takes off his gown, erecutioner pregenerous friend,

pares to bind him. I might hope comfort from thy noble sorrows. Fri. Son. Heaven knows, I want a friend.

Pier. Hence, tempter! Jaf. And I a kind one,

Offi. Stand off, priest. That would not thus scorn my repenting virtue, Pier. I thank you, sir. [To the Officer. Or think, when he's to die, my thoughts are idle. You'll think on't?

(TO JAFFIER. Pier. No! live, I charge thee, Jaffier.

Jaf. It won't

grow stale before to-morrow. Juf. Yes, I will live;

Pier. Now, Jaffier ! now I'm going. NowBut it shall be to see thy fall revenged

[Erecutioner having bound him. At such a rate, as Venice long shall groan for. Jaf. Have at thee, Pier. Wilt thou ?

Thou honest heart, then-here!

(Stabs him. Jaf. I will, by Heaven.

And this is well too.

(Stabs himself Pier. Then still thou art noble,

Fri. Damnable deed! And I forgive thee. Oh!-yet-shall I trust Pier. Now thou hast indeed been faithful, thee?

This was done nobly-We have deceived the seJof. No; I have been false already.

nate. Pier. Dost thou love me?

Jaf. Bravely.
Jaf. Rip up my heart, and satisfy thy doubtings! Pier. Ha, ha, ha-oh! oh!

[Dics

up!

Jaf. Now, ye cursed rulers,

I may revenge myself for this trick, one day. Thus of the blood ye have shed I make liba- I'll do't—I'lì do't. Renault's a nasty fellow; tion,

Hang him, hang him, hang him.
And sprinkle it mingling. May it rest upon you,
And all your race! Be henceforth peace a stran-

Enter Officer.
ger

Pri. News, what news? Within your walls; let plagues and fainine waste

[Officer whispers PRIULI. Your generation—Oh, poor Belvidera!

Offi

. Most sad, sir ; Sir, I've a wife, bear this in safety to her, Jaffier, upon the scaffold, to prevent A token, that with my dying breath I blessed A shameful death, stabbed Pierre, and next himher,

self; And the dear little infant left behind me. Both fell together. I'm sick, I'm quiet.

{Dies. Pri. Daughter! Offi. Bear this news to the senate,

Bel. Ha! look there! And guard their bodies, till there's further orders. My husband bloody, and his friend too! Murder! Heaven grant I die so well!

Who has done this? Speak to me, thou sad vi(Scene shuts upon them.

sion !

On these poor trembling knees I beg it. VaSCENE IV.

nished

Here they went down-Oh, I'll dig, dig the den Soft Music-Enter BELVIDERA distracted, led by tao of her women, PRIULI and Servants.

You shan't delude me thus. Hoa, Jaffier, Jaffier! Pri. Strengthen her heart with patience, pity- Peep up, and give me but a look. I have him! ing Heaven!

I've got him, father: Oh! now how I'll smuggle Bel. Come, come, come, come, come, nay,

him ! come to bed,

My love! my dear! my blessing! help me! help Prithee, my love ! The winds; hark how they

me! whistle;

They have hold on me, and drag me to the botAnd the rain beats : Oh! how the weather

tom. shrinks me!

Nay-now they pull so hard-farewell — (Dies. You are angry now, who cares? Pish, no indeed, Maid. She's dead; Chuse then; I say you shall not go, you shall not; Breathless and dead. Whip your ill-nature; get you gone then. Oh! Pri. Oh! guard me from the sight on't! Are you returned? See, father, here he's come Lead me into some place that's fit for mourning: again:

Where the free air, light, and the cheerful sun, Am I to blame to love him? O, thou dear one, May never enter: hang it round with black: Why do you fly me? Are you angry still then? Set up one taper, that may last a day, Jaffier, where art thou? father, why do you do As long as I've to live; and there all leave me: thus?

Sparing no tears, when you this tale relate, Stand off, don't hide him from me. He's here But bid all cruel fathers dread my fate. somewhere.

[Exeunt omnes. Stand off, I say: What, gone? Remember it, ty

rant:

EPILOGUE.

The text is done, and now for application ;
And when that's ended, pass your approbation.
Though the conspiracy's prevented here,
Methinks I see another hatching there;
And there's a certain faction fain would sway,
If they had strength enough,and damn this play:
But this the author bade me boldly say ;
If any take this plainness in its part,
He's glad on't from the bottom of his heart;
Poets in honour of the truth should write,
With the same spirit brave men for it fight.

And though against him causeless hatreds rise,
And daily where he goes of late, he spies
The scowl of sullen and revengeful eyes,

$ 'Tis what he knows, with much contempt to

bear,
And serves a cause too good to let him fear:
He fears no poison from an incens'd drab,
No ruffian's five-foot sword, nor rascal's stab;
Nor any other snares of mischief laid,
Not a Rose-alley-cudgel ambuscade,
From any private cause where malice reigns,

Or general pique all blockheads have to brains : Of that great martyr's, whose rich blood they Nothing shall daunt his pen when truth does call;

shed, No, not the * picture-mangler at Guildhall. That their rebellious hate they still retain,

The rebel tribe, of which that vermin's one, And in his son would murder him again. Have now set forward, and their course begun; With indignation then, let each brave heart And while that prince's figure they deface, Rouse, and unite to take his injur'd part;

As they before had massacred his name, Till royal love and goodness call him home, Durst their base fears but look him in the face, And songs of triumph meet him as he come; They'd use his person as they've us’d his Till heaven his honour, and our peace refame:

store, A face in which such lineaments they read And villains never wrong his virtue more.

• The rascal that cut the Duke of York's picture.

ISABELLA;

THE FATAL MARRIAGE.

ALTERED FROM

SOUTHERN.

PROLOGUE.

SPOKEN BY MRS BRACEGIRDLE.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

SCENE,- Brussels.

ACT I.

me.

expect it.

SCENE I. -- Before Count BALDWIN's House. Enter VILLEROY, with ISABELLA and her little

Son.
Enter VILLEROY and Carlos.

Isa. Why do you follow me you know I am Car. This constancy of yours will establish an A bankrupt every way; too far engaged #nmortal reputation among the women. Ever to make return: I own you have been

Vil. If it would establish me with Isabella More than a brother to me, my friend;

Car. Follow her, follow her: Troy town was And at a time when friends are found no more, won at last.

A friend to my misfortunes. Vil. I have followed her these seven years, Vil. I must be always your friend. and now but live in hopes.

Isa. I have known, and found you Cur. But live in hopes! Why, hope is the Truly my friend; and would I could be yours ; ready road, the lover's baiting-place; and, for But the unfortunate cannot be friends: aught you know, but one stage short of the pos- Fate watches the first motion of the soul, session of your mistress.

To disappoint our wishes; if we pray Vil. But my hopes, I fear, are more of my For blessings, they prove curses in the end, own making than her's; and proceed rather To ruin all about us. Pray, be gone; from my wishes, than any encouragement she Take warning, and be happy. has given me.

Vil. Happiness! Car. That I cannot tell : the sex is very vari- There's none for me without you: Riches, name, ous; there are no certain measures to be pre- Health, fame, distinction, place, and quality, scribed or followed, in making our approaches Are the incumbrances of groaning life, to the women. All that we have to do, I think, To make it but more tedious without you. is to attempt them in the weakest part. Press What serve the goods of fortune for? To raise them but hard, and they will all fall under the My hopes, that you at last will share them with necessity of a surrender at last. That favour comes at once; and sometimes when we least Long life itself, the universal prayer,

And Heaven's reward of well-deservers here, Vil. I shall be glad to find it so.

Would prove a plague to me; to see you always, Car. You will find it so. Every place is to And never see you mine! still to desire, be taken, that is not to be relieved: she must And never to enjoy! comply.

Isa. I must not hear you. Vil. I am going to visit her.

Vil. Thus, at this awful distance, I have served Car. What interest a brother-in-law can have A seven years' bondage-Do I call it bondage, with her, depend upon.

When I can never wish to be redeemed?
Vil. I know your interest, and I thank you. No, let me rather linger out a life
Car. You are prevented; see, the mourner Of expectation, that you may be mine,
comes ;

Than be restored to the indifference
She weeps, as seven years were seven hours; Of seeing you, without this pleasing pain:
So fresh, unfading, is the memory

I've lost myself, and never would be found, Of my poor brother's, Biron’s, death:

But in these arms. I leave you to your opportunity. (Erit Vil. Isa. Oh, I have heard all this ! Though I have taken care to root her from our But must no more the charmer is no more: house,

My buried husband rises in the face I would transplant her into Villeroy's

Of my dear boy, and chides me for my stay: There is an evil fate that waits upon her, Canst thou forgive me, child? To which I wish him wedded-Only him: Child. Why, have you done a fault? You cry His upstart family, with haughty brow,

you had. Indeed now, I have done nothing (Though Villeroy and myself are seeming friends) to offend you: but if you kiss me, and look se Looks down upon our house; his sister, too, very sad upon me, I shall cry too. Whose hand I asked, and was with scorn refused, İsa. My little angel, no, you must not cry; Lives in my breast, and fires me to revenge.

Sorrow will overtake thy steps too soon: They bend this way

I should not hasten it. Perhaps, at last, she seeks my father's doors; Vil. What can I say! They shall be shut, and be prepared to give The arguments that make against my hopes The beggar and her brat a cold reception. Prevail upon my heart, and fix me more; That boy's an adder in my path-they come; Those pious tears you hourly throw away, I'll stand apart, and watch their motions. Upon the grave, have all their quickening charms,

[Retires. J And more engage my love, to make you mine:

as if