done.

Two husbands! yet not one! By both enjoyed,
And yet a wife to neither! Hold my brain-
This is to live in common! Very beasts,
That welcome all they meet, make just such wives.
My reputation! Oh, 'twas all was left me!
The virtuous pride of an uncensured life;
Which the dividing tongues of Biron's wrongs,
And Villeroy's resentments, tear asunder,

Το
gorge the throats of the blaspheming rabble.
This is the best of what can come to-morrow,
Besides old Baldwin's triumph in my ruin:
I cannot bear it-

Therefore no morrow: Ha! a lucky thought
Works the right way to rid me of them all;
All the reproaches, infamies, and scorns,
That every tongue and finger will find for me.
Let the just horror of my apprehensions
But keep me warm-no matter what can come.
'Tis but a blow-yet I will see him first-
Have a last look to heighten my despair,
And then to rest for ever.-

BIRON meets her.

Bir. Despair and rest for ever! Isabella! These words are far from thy condition, And be they ever so! I heard thy voice, And could not bear thy absence: come, my love! You have staid long; there's nothing, nothing

sure

Now to despair of in succeeding fate. Isa. I am contented to be miserable,

But not this way: I have been too long abused,

And can believe no more.

Let me sleep on to be deceived no more.

Bir. Look up, my love! I never did deceive thee,

Nor never can; believe thyself, thy eyes,
That first inflamed, and lit me to my love;
Those stars, that still must guide me to my
joys-

Isa. And me to my undoing: I look round,
And find no path, but leading to the grave.
Bir. I cannot understand thee.
Isa. My good friends above,

I thank them, have at last found out a way
To make my fortune perfect; having you,
I need no more; my fate is finished here.
Bir. Both our ill fates, I hope.

Isa. Hope is a lying, fawning flatterer,
That shews the fair side only of our fortunes,
To cheat us easier into our fall;

A trusted friend, who only can betray you;
Never believe him more. If marriages
Are made in Heaven, they should be happier :
Why was I made this wretch?

Bir. Has marriage made thee wretched?
Isa. Miserable, beyond the reach of comfort.
Bir. Do I live to hear thee

Isa. Why, what did I say?

say so?

Bir. That I have made thee miserable.
Isa. No: you are my only earthly happiness;
And my false tongue
belied my honest heart,
If it said otherwise.

Bir. And yet you said,
Your marriage made you miserable.
Isa. I know not what I said:

I have said too much, unless I could speak all. Bir. Thy words are wild; my eyes, my ears, my heart,

Were all so full of thee, so much employed
In wonder of thy charms, I could not find it:
Now I perceive it plain-

Isa. You will tell nobody-
Bir. Thou art not well.

[Distractedly.

'Twas madness all--Compose thyself, my love!
The fit is past; all may be well again:
Let us to bed.

Isa. To bed! You have raised the storm
Will sever us for ever. Oh, Biron !
While I have life, still I must call you mine:
I know I am, and always was, unworthy
To be the happy partner of your love;
And now must never, never share it more.
But oh! if ever I was dear to you,

As sometimes you have thought me, on my knees,
(The last time I shall care to be believed)
I beg you, beg to think me innocent,
Clear of all crimes, that thus can banish me
From this world's comforts, in my losing you.
Bir. Where will this end?

Isa. The rugged hand of fate has got between Our meeting hearts, and thrusts them from their joys.

Since we must part――

Bir. Nothing shall ever part us.

SCENE I.

Enter BIRON. Nurse following him.
Bir. I know enough: the important question
Of life or death, fearful to be resolved,
Is cleared to me: I see where it must end,
And need inquire no more— -Pray, let me have
Pen, ink, and paper. I must write a-while,
And then I'll try to rest-to rest for ever!
[Exit Nurse.

Poor Isabella! now I know the cause,
The cause of thy distress, and cannot wonder
That it has turned thy brain. If I look back
Upon thy loss, it will distract me too.
Oh, any curse but this might be removed!
But 'twas the rancorous malignity

Of all ill-stars combined, of heaven and fate-
Hold, hold my impious tongue-Alas! I rave:
Why do I tax the stars, or heaven, or fate?
They are all innocent of driving us

Into despair; they have not urged my doom;
My father and my brother are my fates
That drive me to my ruin. They knew well
I was alive. Too well they knew how dear
My Isabella-Oh, my wife no more!
How dear her love was to me-Yet they stood,
With a malicious silent joy, stood by,
And saw her give up all my happiness,
The treasure of her beauty to another;
Stood by, and saw her married to another.
Oh, cruel father! and unnatural brother!
Shall I not tell you that you have undone me !

I have but to accuse you of my wrongs,
And then to fall forgotten-Sleep or death
Sits heavy on me, and benumbs my pains:
Either is welcome; but the hand of death
Works always sure, and best can close my eyes.
[Exit BIRON.

Enter Nurse and SAMPSON. Nurse. Here's strange things towards, Samp son: what will be the end of them, do you think? Samp. Nay, marry, nurse, I cannot see so far; but the law, I believe, is on Biron, the first husband's side.

Nurse. Yes; no question, he has the law on his side.

Samp. For I have heard, the law says, a woman must be a widow, all out seven years, before she can marry again, according to law.

Nurse. Ay, so it does: and our lady has not been a widow altogether seven years.

Samp. Why, then, nurse, mark my words, and say I told you so. The man must have his wife again, and all will do well.

Nurse. But if our master, Villeroy, comes back again

Samp. Why, if he does, he is not the first man that has had his wife taken from him.

Nurse. For fear of the worst, will you go to the old count, desire him to come as soon as he can; there may be mischief, and he is able to pre vent it.

Sump. Now you say something; now I take you, nurse; that will do well, indeed: mischief

Isa. Asleep so soon! Oh, happy, happy thou, 'ho thus can sleep! I never shall sleep more— then to sleep be to be happy, he, ho sleeps the longest, is the happiest : eath is the longest sleep-Oh, have a care! Lischief will thrive apace.-Never wake more. [To BIRON.

*thou didst ever love thy Isabella, o-morrow must be doomsday to thy peace. he sight of him disarms even death itself. he starting transport of new quickening life lives just such hopes: and pleasure grows again Vith looking on him-Let me look my lastBut is a look enough for parting love! Sure I may take a kiss-Where am I going! Help, help me, Villeroy! Mountains and seas Divide your love, never to meet my shame!

[Throws herself upon the floor; after a short pause she raises herself upon her elbow. What will this battle of the brain do with me! This little ball, this ravaged province, long Cannot maintain--The globe of earth wants

room

And food for such a war-I find I am going-
Famine, plagues, and flames,

Wide waste and desolation, do your work
Upon the world, and then devour yourselves!
The scene shifts fast-[She rises]-and now 'tis
better with me;

Conflicting passions have at last unhinged
The great machine! the soul itself seems changed!
Oh, 'tis a happy revolution here!
The reasoning faculties are all deposed,
Judgment, and understanding, common-sense,
Driven out as traitors to the public peace.
Now I am revenged upon my memory!
Her seat dug up, where all the images
Of a long mis-spent life were rising still,
To glare a sad reflection of my crimes,
And stab a conscience through them! You are

safe,

You monitors of mischief! What a change!
Better and better still! This is the infant state
Of innocence, before the birth of care.
My thoughts are smooth as the Elysian plains,
Without a rub: the drowsy falling streams
Invite me to their slumbers.

Would I were landed there-

[Sinks into a chair.
What noise was that? A knocking at the gate!
It may be Villeroy-
-No matter who.

Bir. Come, Isabella, come.-
Isa. Hark! I am called!
Bir. You stay too long from me.

Isa. A man's voice! in my bed! How came
he there?

Nothing but villany in this bad world!

And there has left me. Oh, the frightful change
Of my distractions! Or is this interval
Of reason but to aggravate my woes,
To drive the horror back with greater force
Upon my soul, and fix me mad for ever?

Bir. Why dost thou fly me so?

Isa. I cannot bear his sight; distraction, come, Possess me all, and take me to thyself! Shake off thy chains, and hasten to my aid; Thou art my only cure-Like other friends, He will not come to my necessities; Then I must go to find the tyrant outWhich is the nearest way?

[Running out. Bir. Poor Isabella! she's not in a condition To give me any comfort, if she could: Lost to herself--as quickly I shall be To all the world--Horrors come fast around

And family, and tainted into trades.
Shall I be one of them-Bow, and retire,
To make more room for the unwieldy heir
To play the fool in! No-

But how shall I prevent it?-Biron comes
To take possession of my father's love-
Would that were all! there's a birth-right too
That he will seize. Besides, if Biron lives,
He will unfold some practices, which I
Cannot well answer-therefore he shall die;
This night must be disposed of: I have means
That will not fail my purpose.-Here he comes.
Enter BIRON.

Bir. Ha! am I beset! I live but to revenge

me.

[They surround him, fighting; VILLEROY enters with two servants; they rescue him; CARLOS and his party fly.

Vil. How are you, sir? Mortally hurt, I fear. Take care, and lead him in.

Bir. I thank you for this goodness, sir; though 'tis

Bestowed upon a very wretch; and death,
Though from a villain's hand, had been to me
An act of kindness, and the height of mercy-
But I thank you, sir.
[He is led in.

SCENE IV.-The Inside of the House.

Enter ISABELLA.

Isa. Murder my husband! Oh! I must not
dare

To think of living on; my desperate hand
In a mad rage may offer it again.

Stab me any where but there. Here's room enough

In my own breast, to act the fury in,

The proper scene of mischief. Villeroy comes; Villeroy and Biron come! Oh! hide me from them

They rack, they tear; let them carve out my limbs,

Divide my body to their equal claims !
My soul is only Biron's; that is free,
And thus I strike for him and liberty.

[Going to stab herself, VILLEROY runs in and prevents her, by taking the dagger from her. Vil. Angels defend and save thee! Attempt thy precious life! the treasury Of nature's sweets! life of my little world! Lay violent hands upon thy innocent self!

Isa. Swear I am innocent, and I'll believe you. What would you have with me? Pray let me go. Are you there, sir! You are the very man Have done all this-You would have made Me believe you married me; but the fool Was wiser, I thank you: 'tis not all gospel You men preach upon that subject.

Vil. Dost thou not know me, love? Isa. O yes: very well. [Staring on him. You are the widow's comforter, that marries Any woman when her husband's out of the way: But I'll never, never take your word again.

Vil. I am thy loving husband.

Isa. I have none; no husband— [Weeping. Never had but one, and he died at Candy! Did he not? I am sure you told me so; you, Or somebody, with just such a lying look, As you have now. Speak, did he not die there! Vil. He did, my life.

Isa. But swear it, quickly swear,

BIRON enters bloody, and leaning upon his sword. Before that screaming evidence appears, In bloody proof against me

[She, seeing BIRON, swoons in a chair; VIL LEROY helps her.

Vil. Help there! Nurse, where are you? Ha! I am distracted too!

Bir. I know it must-Here I give up that death

You but delayed: since what is past has been The work of fate, thus we must finish it. Thrust home, be sure.

[Faints. Vil. Alas! he faints: some help there! Bir. 'Tis all in vain, my sorrows soon will end.

Oh, Villeroy! let a dying wretch entreat you To take this letter to my father. My Isabella! Could'st thou but hear me, my last words should bless thee.

I cannot, though in death, bequeath her to thee.
[TO VILLEROY.
But I could hope my boy, my little one,
Might find a father in thee-Oh, I faint-
I can no more-Hear me, Heaven! Oh! sup
port

My wife, my Isabella-Bless my child!
And take a poor unhappy—

[Dies.

Vil. He's gone-Let what will be the conse quence,

I'll give it him. I have involved myself,
And would be cleared; that must be thought on

now.

My care of her is lost in wild amaze.

Going to ISABELLA. Are you all dead within there? Where, where are you? (Exit.

ISABELLA comes to herself.

Isa. Where have I been? Methinks I stand upon

The brink of life, ready to shoot the gulph,
That lies between me and the realms of rest,
But still, detained, I cannot pass the strait;
Denied to live, and yet I must not die;
Doomed to come back, like a complaining ghost,
To my unburied body-here it lies-

[Throws herself by BIRON's body.

My body, soul, and life. A little dust,
To cover our cold limbs in the dark grave-
There, there we shall sleep safe and sound to-
gether.

Enter VILLEROY, with Servants.

Vil. Poor wretch! upon the ground! She's not herself:

Remove her from the body.

[Servants going to raise her.

Isa. Never, neverYou have divorced us once, but shall no moreHelp, help me, Biron! Ha! bloody and dead! Oh, murder! murder! you have done this deed; Vengeance and murder! bury us togetherDo any thing but part us.

Vil. Gently, gently raise her. She must be forced away.

[She drags the body after her: they get her into their arms, and carry her off. Isa. Oh, they tear me! Cut off my handsLet me leave something with himThey'll clasp him fast

Oh, cruel, cruel men!

This

you must answer one day.

Vil. Good nurse, take care of her.

[Nurse follows her.

=Send for all helps: all, all that I am worth,

Shall cheaply buy her peace of mind again.

Be sure you do,

Just as I ordered you.

I am prepared for it.

[To a Servant.

The storm grows louder. [Knocking at the door.

Now let them in.

But I must say that you have murdered him;
And will say nothing else, till justice draws
Upon our side, at the loud call of blood,
To execute so foul a murderer.

Bel. Poor Biron! Is this thy welcome home!
Fr. Rise, sir; there is a comfort in revenge,
Which yet is left you.
[To C. BALD.
Car. Take the body hence. [BIRON carried off.
C. Bald. What could provoke you?
To a base murder, which, I find, you
Vil. Nothing could provoke me

think

Me guilty of. I know my innocence;
My servants too can witness that I drew
My sword in his defence, to rescue him.
Bel. Let thy servants be called.
Fr. Let us hear what they can say.
Car. What they can say! Why, what should
servants say?

They're his accomplices, his instruments,
And will not charge themselves. If they could do
A murder for his service, they can lie,

Lie nimbly, and swear hard to bring him off.—
You say you drew your sword in his defence:
Who were his enemies? Did he need defence?
Had he wronged any one? Could he have cause
To apprehend a danger, but from you?
And yet you rescued him! No, no, he came
Unseasonably (that was all his crime),
Unluckily to interrupt your sport:

You were new married-married to his wife;
And therefore you, and she, and all of you,
(For all of you I must believe concerned)
Combined to murder him out of the way.
Bel. If it is so-

Car. It can be only so.

Fr. Indeed it has a face-

Car. As black as hell.

C. Bald. The law will do me justice: send for the magistrate.

Car. I'll go myself for him-

[Erit.

Vil. These strong presumptions, I must own, indeed,

Are violent against me; but I have
A witness, and on this side heaven too.
-Open that door.

(Door opens, and PEDRO is brought forward by VILLEROY's servants. Here's one can tell you all.

Ped. All, all; save me but from the rack, I'H confess all.

Vil. You and your accomplices designed To murder Biron ?-Speak.

Ped. We did.

Vil. Did you engage upon your private wrongs, Or were employed?

Ped. He never did us wrong.
Vil. You were set on, then?

Ped. We were set on.

Vil. What do you know of me?
Ped. Nothing, nothing:

You saved his life, and have discovered me.
Vil. He has acquitted me.

If you would be resolved of any thing,
He stands upon his answer.