Falſe Friend,

Or, the Fate of


As it is
Acted at the New Theatre
Little Lincolns-Inn-Fields.

Written by Mrs. Pix.

Printed for Richard Baſſet, at the Mitre in Fleetſtreet, 16991699.

A1v A2r

To the Right Honourable the Countess of Burlington.


Applause, that food of Scriblers, were it mine wou’d not ſatisfie my Ambition; nor ſhou’d I know half the Tranſports I feel, at the Honour of approaching You. The ſublimeſt fancy, when it paints a HerioneHeroine; Copy’s You but faintly: You have reach’d the bright Path of Virtue; and there You walk ſecure. It would be equally a pain for You to deſcend; as it is for the Vicious, to ſhake off their Mire, and Climb. I ſpeak the Sentiments of the whole World; of all, who are dependant on Your Noble Family; of all, in whatſoever Station; who can boaſt the Happineſs to know my Lady Burlington.

The paſt, and the returning Years CountCount not a Day, but what is bleſt, and Crown’d with ſome good A2 Action A2v Action of Yours: This You wou’d hourly hear from every Joyful Tongue, did not the fear to Offend another Charming Grace (Your Modeſty) deter them. That baſhful Attendant is ſo Nice; it ſcarce dares Whiſper to Your Self, how Good You are. I tremble leaſt I ſhou’d now Offend; but who can quit this lovely Theam? Such Virtues ſhou’d for ever be the Poet’s Song; the ableſt Pens ſhou’d Tune Your Praiſe; for mean Conceptions Prophane ſuch Worth: This ought to check my Aſpiring; and force me ſilently to Admire, what I cannot Worthily expreſs. Only herein I am embolden’d, that, as You have an Infinity of Merit; ſo You have of Goodneſs. Under that ſweet Umbrage I am ſafe; that gives me Hopes, You will pardon this Preſumption; and permit me, with this Trifle, to offer my Conſtant Vows, for the Everlaſting Proſperity of Your Ladyſhip; and that great Man, whom You Love moſt; who moſt Deſerves to be Belov’d (Your Lord.) May You both be Bleſt in Your Illuſtrious Race; and long remain the Darlings of Your Friends, and Fate: Whilſt I, at humble Diſtance, beg leave to Subſcribe my Self,

Madam, Your Ladyſhip’s Devoted Admirer, and Moſt Obedient Servant,

Mary Pix.



By Mr. Hodgſon

Amongſt Reformers of this Vitious Age,

Who think it Duty to Refine the Stage:

A Woman, to Contribute, does Intend,

In Hopes a Moral Play your Lives will Mend.

Matters of State, ſhe’l not pretend to Teach;

Or Treat of War, or things above her Reach:

Nor Scourge your Folly’s, with keen Satyrs Rage;

But try if good Example will Engage.

For Precepts oft do fail from Vice to win

And Puniſhments but harden you in Sin.

Therefore (Male Judges) She preſcribes no Rule

AudAnd knows ’tis vain to make Wiſe Men of Fools.

Leſt all thoſe Wholeſom Laws that ſhe can give,

You’d think too much below you to receive.

—That part then of the Reformation,

Which ſhe believes the fitteſt for her Station;

Is, to ſhew Man the ſureſt way to Charm:

And all thoſe Virtues, Women moſt Adorn.

Firſt then,—No Beau can e’re Succesful prove,

Narciſſus like, who’s with himſelf in Love.

No wretched Miſer muſt e’re hope to find,

With Cheſt’s Lok’d up, a Friend ’mongſt Woman kind.

No Drunkard, Fool, Debauchee, or one that Swears,

Can Win a Woman, or beguile her Fears;

But he that’s Honeſt, Generous, and Brave,

That’s Wiſe and Conſtant, may his Wiſhes have.

A3v But

But Hold, I’de forgot—

You muſt not be Ill-natur’d and Unkind,

Moroſeneſs Suits not with their Tender Minds,

They are all ſoft, as is the Down of Doves,

As Innocent and Harmleſs are their Loves;

And thoſe Misfortunes which on Men do fall,

To their Falſe Selves they Chiefly owe ’em all.

Did Men reform, all Women wou’d do well:

In Virtue, as in Beauty they’d Excell.

But while each ſtrive the other to Betray,

Both are to Fears and Jealoſie’s a Prey.

Let not Ill-nature then Reign here to Night,

Nor think you ſhew moſt Wit, when moſt you Spite;

But Strive the Beauties of the Play to find,

The Modeſt Scenes and Niceſt Actions mind,

Then to your Selves, nndand Authreſs you’l be kind.

Epi- A4r


The Author, who the Foregoing Scenes has Writ

Deſign’d to ſhew you Nature more than Wit;

Tho’, one wou’d think no wonder cou’d be greater,

Than to ſee any Forſake our Leader, Nature.

For She ſhou’d hold the Lamp, when we Indite,

And Dictate every Thought and Line we Write

Nay, all think they have her Preſence and her Light.

When as the Coy Daphne fled from our Apollo,

Nature flyes Poets, and in Vain they Follow.

This Offspring ſtill is Jilted worſe than he,

Who for a kind ſoft Nimph, Embrac’d a Tree;

Yet why this Vain purſuit of her at laſt,

If ſhe flyes Poets, you fly her as faſt;

Nay, you are grown ſo very Ripe for Satyre,

As much as ye each other Love, ye hate her.

For when did ſhe e’re pleaſe this Barborous Age,

When all things elſe have taken on the Stage.

New Bullies, Bluſtering in Heroick Fuſtian,

In your Fermenting Maſſes, rais’d Combuſtion.

Anon, we huſh’d your forward Mood with Battles,

And made our Trumpets, and our Drums your Rattles.

But Gallants, ſince you are weary grown of theſe,

Let Humane Nature, Humane Creatures pleaſe.

All looſe Expreſſions now are Baniſh’d hence,

Our Senſes are only Fraught with Innocence.

Virtue Ariſes

Her Snowy Garment bears a Dazeling white,

Protect ye Beauties, the grace in which ye all delight,

And ſave the Hapleſs Lovers you have ſeen to Night.

Dram- A4v

Dramatis Perſonæ


Mr. Bowman, The Vice-roy of Sardinia.

Mr. Verbruggen, Emilius his Son.

Mr. Scudamore. Briſac, Alias Don Lopez, a Noble man of France.

Mr. Thurmond. Lorenza, a Noble man of Sardinia.

Mr. Hodgson, Bucarius, a General.

Mr. Harris, Roderigo, his Friend.


Mrs. Barry, Adellaida, Daughter to the Vice-roy.

Mrs. Bowman, Appamia, a Lady of Quality, brought up by the Vice-roy.

Mrs. Bracegirdle, Loviſa, Siſter to Briſac.

Mrs. Lawſon, Zelide, an Indian Slave.

Mrs. Martin, Amidea.

Mrs. Howard, Labret.

Guards, and Attendance

Scene, a Hall.
B1r 1

The Falſe Friend, Or, the Fate of Disobedience.

Act I. Scene I. A Hall.

Enter Emilius, Loviſa, Servants.


Safely we’ave reach’t Sardinia’s Shore

Thou tender, Beauteous kindeſt Charmer

For which, Bleſs’d be the Bounteous Powers:

Bleſt be every Auſpicious Star!

But, Oh! What Bleſſings ſhall I pour on thee,

Source of my Days! My Life! My Loviſa!

On this pleaſing Subject my charm’d Tongue wou’d for ever dwell,

And wiſh my Eyes cou’d yet ſpeak more,

To Expreſs thy wondrous Kindneſs,

My Almighty Love!


Oh! my Emilius!


Ha! A Sigh! Thy lovely Eyes ſhining faintly!

What means This cruel Alteration!

Not fierceſt Storms, when the Mad Waves

Danc’d higheſt, and, in their ſurly Sport,

B Toſs’d B1v 2

Toſs’d us from ſide to ſide, mov’d thee thus!

No; Thou wert Calm as Innocence: Calm

As Eaſtern Groves, and with a Smile wou’d Cry:

Fear not. I can Dye with my Emilius!

And now we Ride Securely in the Haven,

What rude Guſt dares diſturb that Halcyon Boſome,

Where I have Horded all my precious

Stock of Peace, and built my Rest for eve.


Is it nothing then, to break the ſtrongeſt Ties;

Ties which even Barbarians hold moſt Sacred:

Forſake Parents, Family, my Native Land:

Nay worſe; leave my Fame at Random:

For the malicious World to Cenſure; whoſe

Vile Breath ſcarce ſpares the brighteſt Virtue;

How will it blacken my Errors! Is this

Not worth a Sigh! No; Emilius he is mine;

And he but weighs ’em all!


Come to my Heart thou Darling ſoftneſs

In thy own Manſion Reign. Oh! What

Tranſporting Pleaſures does’t thou give,

The earneſt of Love’s rich Feaſt, which I, the Happy

I, ſhall now receive.




Nay! If thou break’ſt the Chain, my pleas’d

Imagination forms, I ſhall ſuſpect thy Love;

For I appeal to Thee, with all my Foes (thy

Coldeſt Guards about thee) if, to a Tittle I

Have not obey’d thy hard Conditions: When

In France, I ſnatch’d thee from thy Deſtin’d

Bridegroom? ’Tis true; we were ſo cloſe perſu’d,

We ſcarce had time to Tye the Sacred Knot our ſelves:

I juſt cou’d call thee Wife, my Charming Bride!

You Injoyn’d, and I obey’d, tho’ my Heart

Rowl’d in Fire, I beheld thee like an Anchorite,

But now the cruel Task is o’re, and I will Seize thee,

Lock thee in theſe Fond Arms; Warm thee

With my Sighs; and fill thee with the Fury of my Love.


Hear me Emilius—tho’ unwillingly

I wake thee from thy Dreams of Bliſs.

Yet B2r 3

Yet I have Fears, that wrack my Soul!

And to whom, but thee, ſhou’d I diſcloſe ’em?

Therefore I muſt be heard.


What wou’d my Angel ſay? Or why

Do ye repeat the Injunction to be heard?

Did I e’re fly the Muſick of thy Tongue,

Or liſten to it, with leſs reſpect:

Than what we pay to Oracles Divine?


You have brought me to Sardinia,

Where Your Father’s Lord—You are his

Eldeſt, and his only Hopes—In the Spaniſh Court,

He no doubt, has choſe ſome Princeſs,

To prop his Name from Sinking, and Bleſs

Your Genial Bed: What will then

Become of me!


My Love!


I have no Witneſs of my Noble Birth Pointing to her Woman.

But that poor helpleſs wretch——

Nay, ſhou’d there be Enquiry made,

My angry Father, for my Diſobedience

May diſown me—If they by Threats,

Or Prayers, Draw you too on their ſide:

Then I ſhall be left Expos’d in this

Inhoſpitable Iſle; perhaps wounded

With opprobrious Names; Call’d a

Wandring looſe One; a wanton Miſtreſs;

Save me Emilius, from that Thought—

Save me quick: It tears my Heart aſunder!


Why doſt thou Wound me with thy grondleſsgroundleſs

Fears—thy moſt unkind Suſpicions?

Yet, if there’s power in Words, thou ſha’t be

Satisfi’d—Hear ye Juſt Avengers!

Hear this kneeling Imprecation—

If e’re my Heart incline to any other Beauty—

If to the laſt ruddy drop, that Animates this Frame

I not protect thee, my deareſt Part my Wife—

If I am not proud to own, and honour thee in All

Proſpirities, or worſt Extremities: Let me

Live the moſt deteſted of my Race—

B2 Hated B2v 4

Hated by all good Men: And Curs’d by Heav’n!


Hold my Dear Lord!


No! Upon this Theme I will Exceed; and yet

Not talk too much—Winds bear my words—

And Treaſure ’em amongſt their bleweſt Plagues,

And daſh ’em back upon this Perjur’d Head:

When I, in thought, Forſake her!


No more! I will, I will believe thee!—

Emilius has ſaid it: And Truth it ſelf

Will ſooner Change then he!

Mr. Verbruggen,[Speaker label not present in original source]

Emil. to
a Servant.

I attend her here—

Enter a Servant, and
whiſpers Emilius.

—The Lady (my Bleſſing to

Whoſe Protection I ſhall Commit thee,

Till I’ve wrought my Father to a Conſent.


Is ſhe good, and kind, Emilius?


She was my Mother’s valu’d Care; left

By her Parents young: Ever bred

With my Siſter, and my ſelf.

Large are her Poſſeſſions in both the Indies and in Spain,

Yet all Matches ſhe refuſes, and in my Father’s Court

Exhauſts her vaſt Revenues. What e’re Requeſts to him I made,

By her they were convey’d; by her obtain’d.—She comes,

Retire a Moment, whilſt I relate the Story of our Loves.


Which ſhou’d ſhe diſapprove—


Impoſſible, ſhe will be pleas’d, indeed ſhe will

All ſhall be well.

Leads her out and returns.
Enter Appamia, and Zelide.


Emilius! Cou’d you think our Joys

For your return wou’d, by Surprize,

Receive addition: That you gave

No warning o’the Bleſſing.


Oh my beſt Friend: moſt Excellent

Of Women! Friendſhip was Languid

Till you receiv’d the Sacred Fire, and rais’d it

To thoſe Heights, Natures almighty Maſter

Firſt Ordain’d: Before deſigning Fraud,

And little Arts were us’d!


On any Theme you ſpeak well, Emilius,

Tho’ I’de hear nothing, but what relates to your ſelf.

Emil. B3r 5


How much I am oblig’d, it is Impoſſible

To ſay; Yet like honeſt Debtors, I’de reckon up

The mighty Summ, e’re I run further in the Score.


Hold, Emilius, I conjure thee hold!

The pleaſure of ſerving you, Rewards

My utmoſt Care.


Oh! You are All Goodneſs; and her Fears

Were Vain.


ſtarting. Her! What Her?


Nay Start not, Madam;—To the

Noble Stock of Friendſhip I have only added

A little tender Branch; which Nouriſh’d under you

Shall kindly pay you back with Faith, and Love

Like mine.


What can Emilius mean?


In France, it was my Fate to ſee a Lady,

Of whoſe Beauty I ſhall forbear to ſpeak,

Becauſe your Eyes will be the Judge—It is

Enough, to ſay, ſhe caught my Heart

In Everlaſting Chains.—In the Gallantry.

The French Court allows, I found daily means

To tell my fair Saint, the Victory of her Charms

Had won; and ſhe at Length, Liſten’d with

A Relenting Ear; drew me from the Terrors

Of Deſpair; for mine was no Common

Wandring Fire, which Time, or Abſence, or

Some other Beauty might have Cur’d: There

Was no Medium in the firceneſsfierceneſs of my Love:

I muſt be the moſt wretched of

Mankind, or the Happieſt.


Oh Emilius! Were theſe the Studies

Thou wert ſent to Learn? Is thy

Father’s Care, and my inceſſant Kindneſs

Thus repay’d?


Confuſion to my Hopes! Appamia Weeps!

My Friend, and Protectreſs Weeps!

At her Emilius’s Joys!


No!—Pray Sir proceed—Zelede

Thy Arm—I am, Sick o’th ſuddain!


App. B3v 6


Nay, I beſeech you Sir, go on—Is

Your Choice of Noble Birth.


As any France can boaſt of.


Why was your Father, then not made

Acquainted? Why, in that Point alone,

Were your Letters ſent to me? Still ſilent.


I did deſign it all; when from Loviſa’s Mouth

I knew my Fate; but, Oh! Juſt as with

Down-caſt Eyes, a bluſhing Face, trembling Hand,

Her ſoft Breath ſtole through the Roſie Doors

In broken Accents; Words half kind, and half

Conceal’d: Juſt as my Raviſh’d Heart

Receiv’d the Bleſſing, and warm Extaſies

Took place of Chilling Fears: When

Every Thought, and every Wiſh, and

Every Look was Love:—


aſide. Good Heav’n! How eagerly he talks!


Even in this perfect State of Bliſs

Her cruel Father was Bartering my

Ineſtimable Fair: Bargain’d with a

Neighbouring Lord, for Dirt, and Acres;

Sold my Goddeſs like a Common Nothing

Of the Sex: that World of Beauty, for which

My aching Heart had paid a faithful Slavery,

Muſt be thrown into the ſordid Arms of One

Who Gaz’d not on her Eyes, but on the Gold!


Haſt to the Iſſue; you dwell too long

Upon Deſcription.


In fine, the Marriage Day was Set, but

I reſol’v’d upon the Bridegroom’s Death,

Or to receive my own—when my

Kind dear One, helpt by her Confident,

Eſcap’d; Gave me her ſelf; with the

Rich Prize I fled; found a good Prieſt,

Who made us One; and here as fully

Truſting you: Iv’e brought her my Virgin

Bride—Enter Loviſa. Receive her Madam, as the

Heart of your Emilius: For every Injury

That’s offer’d her, I ſhall feel it there.

App. B4r 7


Like that, ſhe ſhall be Cheriſh’d; and find

No other Uſuage, then the Heart of Emilius.

From me deserves.


If, Madam, you have never felt Love’s Power,

I from your Prudence muſt expect ſevereſt

Cenſures for my Raſhneſs.


Emilius has a bewitching Tongue

His Perſon too, I think may Juſtifie

A Lady’s Fondneſs.


Your Kindneſs makes ye Partial—See,

How I truſt That Kindneſs, when I

Deliver up to you this Rich Gift of Fate.


You talk, as if you were to leave me long,

Tell us rather the Method—what’s your porpoſe?


I’le to my Father’s Palace, which adjoyns, and

Learn how to proceed; begging my beſt Friend,

My dear Appamia this Day, to Conceal my

Bleſſing from prying Eyes; from any

Gaxers, but in whom ſhe dares confide,

At Night I will return.


Your Siſter will prove your Advocate;

She loves you, and has great Power

O’er your Father’s Will; you ask not,

After her—But one in Love,

Like you, muſt be forgiven, if;

His Relations, and Friends are all forgot.


Wrong not your Friend, moſt Charming

Of your Sex; for many pleaſing Hour,

Have I heard Emilius recount your Virtues,

And the fair Adellaida’s: Nor Madam,

Look on worthleſs me, with diſdainful Eyes:

Since I hope not many Leagues from hence,

I have a Noble Brother.


In Sardinia?


In the Court of Spain: Count Briſac.


The Count Briſac


Do ye know him Madam?


No; I have heard of him; and ſlightly

Saw him, when he met Their Majeſty’s

In their laſt Progreſs

Emil. B4v 8


I never ſaw him, but have from Fame,

A Generous Character; and hope, when

We do meet, it will be like Brothers.


No doubt on’t; but if I might Adviſe—


Call it Command.


You ſhou’d not too ſuddainly Declare your Marriage;

If this Lady can Brook a ſhort Retirement:

I’le Manage it for the good of both.


Oh! I cou’d live in Caves, or unfrequented Deſarts

So I now and then, might ſee Emilius!


Every Minute, ’tis but a Galler parts us

From the Pallace; his Duty paid to the Vice-roy,

What hinders but he in a few Hours, may return:

His Familiarity here will be eaſily Excus’d.


Bleſs’d be the Breath that leads me on to Bliſs:

The dear Indulgent Guide to what my Heart deſires—

E’re a Balmy Slumber has half-refreſh’t

My Love, I’le fly to wake thee with my Kiſſes.


Oh! Do not think Sleep, or Reſt will cloſe

Theſe watry Eyes, or eaſe this Throbbing Heart,

Till I behold thy Face agen!


Emilius, I am conſidering farther—

Suppoſe you paſs’d this Day Diſguis’d;

Or to your Siſter only made a Diſcovery;

Then ſhe, and I might break the Matter

To my Lord, and hear how he reſents it

E’re he knows the bottom.


With all my Heart; that way I ſhall ſpare

The welcomes of Crouding Friends, which

Wou’d, at this time detain me from my Wiſhes

My long Abſence, and unexpected Arrival

Has paſs’d me hitherto unknown.


Stay not with Adellaida to tell your Story,

Only learn Intelligence, and leave me to Explain ye.


I will--to Loviſa. One look--one Smile, and I am gone.


Forgive my Fears!


Which ſhall be ſhort, as my Return is Swift----From thee

With heavy Foot-ſteps unwillingly I move

But I ſhall fly to meet agen my Love.

App. C1r 9


Zelide, Conduct this Fair Traveller to

My Alcove: Repoſe, I am ſure, is requiſite,

After your Fatigues.


I will retire; not to Sleep,

But my dear Emilius, think on thee:

When our Thoughts pleaſe, Solitude’s Felicity.

Exit Loviſa, Zelide,


When our Thoughts pleaſe, Solicitude’s Felicity!

O ye Juſt Powers! Is this proportion’d Right!

Muſt hers Tranſport; whilſt mine, like

Hurricans, ſcatter the labouring Brain, that

Forms ’em, into a Thouſand painful Atoms?

I’le ha’ no more on’t; but fold my Arms, and

Fix my Eyes; and ſtupifie the rowling Torments

Till I am ſenſeleſs grown: A Statue,

Stiff, and Motionleſs!

Re-enter Zelide


How d’ye, Madam?


Well; my Eyes are Dry, and Heart is ſtill.


I am glad you bear it ſo.


Why, Faithful Creature, why doſt weep?

Have I loſt ought? Can I complain?

It ſeems, he did not know I lov’d.


True Madam.


Oh! Falſer, Baſer, than his whole

Diſſembling Race—He knew it well,

And brought his Minion here, to Brave me

With his Scorne—I muſt prepare the Bridal

Bed; with Leaves of Roſes Deck the downy

Pillows! Oh! Barbarity.


Return it Madam; Diſdain, the Diſdainer;

To his Father’s Pallace; ſend the Fugitive;

And think of him no more. Is there.

A Grandee, even near the Throne, but Courts

Your Favour? If this ill-plac’d Love has got too near

Your Heart, go to the charming Weſtern Climes, and

Reign a Princeſs there, as the vaſt Donation of your

Parents left ye’—you mind not Madam, what I ſay!


Indeed I do not. Am I ugly, Zelide; very ugly?
C Zel. C1v 10


Not Michael Angelo could Paint a finer Face.


Foul, as thy Flattery! Yet I believe thou

Art faithful; tho’ I like it not Expreſs’d this way—

What cou’d he think my Letters meant; or

What the Mighty Summs, by me Remitted, to

Keep their Grandeur up?


He thought not on ye Madam; his

Eyes were taken up with a fair Fool,

That never had oblig’d him.


Ha!—I begin to wake—

What was’t but ſlighted Love, made Medea

Prove a Fury? doubtleſs her Breaſt was,

Once as ſoft, as Fond, as Innocent as mine;

As free from black Revenge or Dire Miſchiefs—

Riſe ye Furies! Inſtead of Treſſes, Deck me

With your Curling Snakes!—For

I will ſting ’em all to Death!


Here are hundreds will obey your Orders.


No; it ſhall be done without a Noiſe—

How quick is Hell Invok’d! The

Seeds of Ruine grow pregnant, the very Moment

They are Sown!—know’ſt thou, Zelide,

That Woman (I hate to Name Loviſa)—

He did it with ſo much Tenderneſs—

Know’ſt thou I ſay, Briſac’s her Brother?

And know’ſt thou too, Briſac Don Lopez?


What? That Don Lopez whom Adellaida,

This Morning Marry’d: I know in part the Story:

Dear Madam in form me fully.


Yes. In the late Progreſs, made with the King

And Queen, wherein the Duke d’ Alberquerque,

My Uncle, took Adellaida, and my ſelf, to meet

The Court, there we ſaw Briſac, Adellaida charm’d him;

I (ſee how Fate Returns it) favour’d their Amours,

And he follow’d to Sardinia, and was Receiv’d as my Relation;

Don Lopez a Man of Quality, in the Weſt-Indies.


Why might not his pretentions have been

Allow’d as the Lord Briſac?

App. C2r 11


Oh! ’tis juſt the Counter-blow of Fate!

Neither of the Fiery Youths had a power to ſtay

the Spaniſh Grave proceedings; and ſo

They’re both undone—and what am I!


Happy, and Bleſt! Fortune’s largeſt Gifts are yours.


No, Zelide, No!—Come near, and I will

Tell thee what a Wretch I am!

Let thy Eye run o’re all the miſerable things

Thou haſt Seen, or Read of: yet let thy Fancy

Make it worſe—See

Leprous Beggars Priſoners Ten Fathom Deep,

In New Drain’d Wells; and Ingendring Toads

With all their bloatted Brood crawling o’re ’em!


Oh Horrid!


Youth Bury’d alive in Strength and Vigour;

Parents by their Rebellious Children Torn;

Yet all this cannot equal mine.


Strange Diſpoſition of our Fate!—

The Great, for little Cauſes, make themſelves



Is it nothing then, to ſee another Claſp him?

Oh! I am loſt if I look that way!


Throw Emilius from your thoughts, and you

Are Happy.


What after being the lov’d Image there!

Since firſt they took an Image in―

Forget him—when he Anticipated my

Earlyeſt Prayers, and was my Evening Theme,

My Mid night Wakings have Remembered him;

Made the joyn to with his Safety:

And talk’d away the Starry Hours, till thou haſt,

Nodding ask’d, what I ſaid laſt—weary with

Tormenting thee, have flown from my Bed,

To Trees and Shadows; Breath’d his Name there----

Methought I beheld his goodly Mien, in

Whiſpering Boughs heard the ſoft Accents of

His Voice—and Dy’d upon the Sound---Oh!


This way, you never will forgett him.
C2 App. C2v 12


’Twas the laſt Sighs of my Expiring Love;

And from the Death of that I Riſe

Another Woman—The gentle Cords,

Twiſted by Venus’s ſelf, that held my Heart,

Are Broke; and in their Stead, Nemeſis has

Writ his Fate in Bloody Characters.


In all things I Obey.


I know thou woot, without Enjoyning.


Command me then.


Bucarius, our General, (you know) my Lover,

Hates the Vice-roy, and fears the return of brave

Emilius, Miſtruſts the Governour ſhou’d

Supplant him in the Court of Spain, purchaſe

His Honours for his moſt deſerving Son, this

Will make him Eager to Croſs the Noble Youth

In his Deſigns, it ſhall be ſo;—

Warn him hither; He fits my purpoſe:

Give Adellaida,

From me, Notice to ſpeak with Caution, to her BroherBrother,

And let my Servants be in readineſs, ſhou’d my

Deſign fail in the deep Scheme I have laid,

I am ſure I have my Rival in my Power;

And if ſhe ſcapes, may I be only wretched—

Obſerve me Zelide----tho I fear we both muſt fall.


I am Content when you are pleas’d.


O Faithful Slave! India alone can breed thy Fellow!


I was a Slave till your goodneſs rais’d me

To your Boſom, which when Death frights me from

May I be a Slave again!


If now my Native ſoftneſs I forego;

And Plunge my ſelf in everlaſting Woe:

Let none my Black, and Guilty Annals ſee;

Or if they do: Charge Love; but pity me.

Act C3r 13

Act II.

Enter the Vice-Roy, Adellaida, Don Lopez, and Lorenza.


My Adellaida! perfect Image of thy Mother,

Sweet in thy obedience; and of Temper gentle!

Let not thy careful Fathers Precepts be thought

Only the Effects of peeviſh Age; and thrown

From thy Remembrance like thoſe uneaſy

Rules, which unwillingly we hear,

And ne’er deſign to practiſe!


What have I done to merit this Reflection?

Why am I thought ſo vile? what mighty

Error have I in my Conduct ſhown, to make my

Noble Father talk thus! to break the Heart

That’s fill’d with Reverence and Love

Towards him, Great as his tender Care

Can in a grateful Breſt produce.


I accuſe thee not my Child, and indeed I

Juſtly cannot: Thy prudent Youth has out-done

Our Celebrated Matrons, with Joy I have beheld

Your unaffected Care; and truſting to your

Diſcretion, wav’d the nicer Cuſtoms of our Spain,

And given you Liberty to your utmoſt wiſhes.


Do you repent your kindneſs, Sir?

Elſe, why is it mention’d now?


No. Yet I will tell the, Adellaida

Foreboding Dreams Torture

My ſick Fancy; my Peace of mind is Shockt

Moſt unaccountably―thy Brother Emilius,

The other half of my divided Heart,

And thee are the only Treaſures Fate can

Wound me in, for I have learnt

So much Philoſophy, to quit Honour, and

Wealth freely, as I wou’d my Garments,

When my wearied Body longs for reſt.


Our laſt Letters left my deareſt Brother in perfect Health.
Vice. C3v 14


True; they did ſo—

Yet be Cautious my belov’d be CautiouCautious let thy Father’s fears

Set thy prudence on the Watch. Horn Winds without. Hark!

The Huntſman calls—

I’le try in Sports to drive this Melancholy

Apprehenſions off—my Adellaida, Farewell.


Much Diverſion wait on your Highneſs.

Mr. Scudamore.[Speaker label not present in original source]

Don Lopez aſſdeaſide
to Adel.
My Life! Stay but a Moment here:

I’le inſtantly return,


I will—Amida, come hither―

The reſt retire―Exeunt Women. Didſt thou not

Tremble at my Fathers Speeches?


Indeed I was ſurpriz’d


Oh! He’s Divinely good; and the juſt Powers

Will Reveal my Diſobedience; or puniſh it

With ſome unforeſeen Misfortune―

To boaſt of Filial Duty, yet break it in

The Higheſt point―To give my ſelf away,

Without this Dear Indulgent Father’s knowledge—

Horrid Impiety! Unpardonable Crime!


See the Lov’d Cauſe; and Ceaſe your vain Lamentings.
Re-enter Briſac.


Oh! my Briſac! Why have be been ſo raſh?

Why did we not ſtay for the Paternal Bleſſing?

Which wou’d have remov’d this Cloud

Of Sorrows, that ſink all hopes of Dawning Comfort.


Not Comfort! to me the Hours come Fraught

With Bliſs! the very Sound that thou art mine!

That Adellaida’s my Bride wou’d Chear me

In a DungeonDungeon! Oh thou Beauteous

Wonder of Earth! the Muſick of whoſe

Voice alone wou’d charm a Lunatick;

And make the Wrack-ſtretched Slave

Forget his pain, Gazing upon

Thy Eyes Dye pleas’d; and think his Happineſs was there!

Then ſhall we repine, or fear our Future Fate?

When we Command her Richeſt ſtore;

When the Bleſſings of Tranſporting Love is ours?

Adel. C4r 15


How vain are all the Cautions of our Sex;

How weak the beſt Reſolves of Woman-kind!

What boots it now to boaſt, my Eyes ne’er gave

A Glance of kindneſs, or Ears inclin’d to the

Deluſive ſtories of my Numerous Lovers—

I ſtay’d but till the Fated Spoiler came

Then, at Random, Stak’d my Heart, my Liberty;

Whatever I had priz’d before:

And only ſigh’d, when I could give no more!


Oh Adellaida! Why doſt thou pleaſe ſo well;

That I miſtruſt the greatneſs of my Joys; and

Fear, no Mortal muſt long remain in ſuch

Exalted Happineſs----when thus I graſp

Thy Hand, and look upon thy lovely Face,

My Senſes in Alarm, Croud and hurry

Altogether; the tumultuous Pleaſures

Gather round my Heart; and with my utmoſt

Reaſon I can ſcarce determine, whether

This is real, or ſome Viſionary Bliſs.


Theſe are a Bridegroom’s Extaſies—

But, my Briſac, woo’t thou talk

Thus, when, after many Rowling Years,

Thou haſt loſt that Name; when I have loſt

The mighty Charm of being new;

Nay, perhaps, when both our Angry Fathers with Hatred

May purſue us; Drive us among humble

Villagers: Thou an Inhabitant of ſome Barren

Plain; and I the Miſtreſs only of a little Cell:

Woo’t thou then revive me with Love like this?

And make our Low-built Cottage Happier far

Than Palaces, whoſe Turrets wrap their

Aſpiring Tops in Clouds; or Crouded Cities,

Where Ten Thouſand lay their Anxious

Heads, and never know ſuch peace as ours!


All muſt be Peace near thee; Joy ſettles

Round thy Habitation; and Blooming

Pleaſures ſpring at thy Lov’d ſight!


Oh! Thou doſt talk away the Minutes, forgetting

Our Reſtraint-----withdraw, or we ſhall

Be Obſerv’d.

Briſ. C4v 16


Not till you have Promis’d―




To be this Night at our obliging Friends,

The kind Appania’sAppamia’s




Moſt eaſy. Command your other Women

To retire; then with the faithful Amidea

When all the Court is ſtill, paſs the Long-Gallery:

There’s no ſhadow of a Danger.


Yet my Heart trembles at this thought?


Eager Love ſhall drive thy Cauſeleſs Fears

Away. AppaniaAppamia, Pitifull

And kind, as her ſoft Sex Inſpires,

Prepares the Bridal Bed, Adorn’d with all

The Sweets, that ever Bounteous Nature gave—

But, Oh! What need of Odors, when thouthou art there?


Madam, One of the Pages is juſt Entring.


Be gone my Lord.


You will come—


I think not.


Thoſe Charming Eyes, my better Friends,

Speak kinder things.


Then truſt to them: and leave me

To Bluſh alone.


A Taſte of Bliſs,—’tis Sweet, as Health or Liberty:

It glides thro’ ev’ry Vein; and Centers at my

Heart; Yet will I try to gain another Hour, elſe

Shall I hate the ſlow paſſing Day, repine at

The All Chearing Sun, and dye with Eager Expectation

Of the Friendly Night, Night Sacred to Lovers Joys

And Covert to the Bluſhing Bride; for Oh

What place, in Abſence can my Sprits chear,

When all my Raviſh’d Heart admires is here?

Exit. Enter a Page.


This Note from the Princeſs Appamia;

Alſo a Gentleman, who beggs to ſpeak with you

In Private.

Adel. D1r 17

Mrs. Barry,[Speaker label not present in original source]

Mention your Marriage but with Caution;

Let me ſee you, E’re you name the Happy Man!

You’ll be pleaſing ſurpriz’d: I’le ſay no more,

Leſt I foreſtall it.



Haſt! Admit the

Stranger; then let none interrupt us―

Why doth Appamia Write in Riddles?

Enter Emilius.




Nay; no Sett Speeches----I know thee----

By all the Bleſſings of this day, ’Tis he----

He himſelf, my own, my dear, My lov’d

Emilius—Oh! Brother! what do the

Bounteous Heavens mean by this profuſe Addition?




I won’t ſtop, nor ask a Reaſon for thy Diſguiſe,

Or odd appearance; but talk wildly on,

And reſt Secur’d I have thee here!


My Siſter—yet ſtill the Dearer Name’s behind---

My Friend! Blood is the Tye of common

Souls; a Sordid Earthly Link—Friendſhip!

The Noble Workmanſhip of Heav’n!


Art thou return’d thou Wanderer!


I am.


Yes, Yes; I ſee thou art, my pleas’d Eyes

Behold thee not Alter’d, nor Eſtrang’d,

Thy Looks their wonted kindneſs bear; and I am bleſt.


My Adellaida, I begg thee ceaſe

Help and Aſſiſt me with thy utmoſt Power.


Is there a Power in me to ſerve Emilius!

And am I not Commanded?


Without my Fathers Licenſe, I have

Ventur’d back—I prithee Siſter, chooſe

Some Auſpicious Hour to Reveal it----

Nay go farther yet my Siſter; let him

Suppoſe I am Harden’d grown in Diſobedience;

Have made a bold diſpoſal of my ſelf,

Without Conſulting him, from whom I had

D My D1v 18

My Being—Then if his Fury Riſe (as much

I fear it will) with all thy winning Sweetneſs,

(Melting, and ſoft) Curb the juſt Tempeſt—

Plead for thy Brother; as I wou’d do for Adellaida.


Oh Sir!


Ha! What mean theſe Ominous Tears?----

’Tis Strange! I cannot mention the Bleſſing of

My Life; the Buſineſs of my Love, to my

Beſt Friends: but ſtrait I meet the Face

Of Sorrow—Oh Adellaida! Had’ſt thou

To me committed ought of this Import:

I wou’d not thus have Check’d thy Blooming Hopes!


Twins we were in the Womb, and ſince ourour Birth

By our Father equally Belov’d; for my poor

Mother dy’d E’re we could Taſte her kindneſs—

Both too, I think have trod the Paths of Virtue;

Both aim’d at the rich Standard of all

Generous minds, Immortal Honour—

But if both have fail’d—


In what?


In Duty, Brother—If Love has Broke

The Holy Ramparts down; and left us Expos’d,

Like the firſt Pair: Will our Adhering to

Each other Avert the Wrath of Heaven,

And our great Parent?


Expos’d the Wrath of Heav’n!—

What haſt thou done, my better half?


Even that raſh thing, I gueſs you guilty of---

Which I ſhou’d never have dar’d to own,

Had you not by Example

Taught me boldneſs—

ThanThat Gordian Knot

Which few Eſcape, and yet by fewer is eaſy made

By me is Ty’d, without my Father’s knowledge—

I am Married—think thou my Brother,

What an Advocate, you have choſe, whoſe

Every Argument, us’d for you, bears for her ſelf,

The ſame Validity, and Weight!

Emil. D2r 19


What ſtrange Game of Fortune’s this?

The more I think, the more I am Confus’d.


Yet you are a Man; and will, I am ſure; look Danger

Boldly in the Face: But I, a Woman, fearful

As a Hind, when the full Cry is up; and all are Bent

UponUpon the Slaughter—therefore I beg, when the

Diſcovery’s made, you’l be my Protector, and

Prove a Brother; tho by an Angry Father I’m forſaken.


Oh Adellaida! To look too far, is wild amaze—

Huſh then our Faults, and let us talk no more—

Let us forget this Interview till to morrow—

And if thou haſt ſuch a Proſpect, as my pleas’d Fancy

Paints: No Suffering can outweigh the Bliſsful Hours,

’Twixt the Setting, and the Riſing Sun.


Promiſe only, that you’l Love my Husband;

That My Father ſhan’not force,

Your Noble Arm againſt him, and I am ſatisfi’d.


I do.


Nay, but you ſhall Swear.


What wou’d’ſt thou ha’ me Swear?


Kneel thus with me, and Swear; that as

I’le prove faithful to your Beauteous Choice

Fulfilling every wiſh, and word of hers

So you’l protect, and love the Lord,

That Rules your Siſter’s Heart.


I Sware I will, but why ſo nice a fear, When I injure him,

Fate Deeper Wound the darling my Soul is fond of—Ha!


Why ſtart you Brother?


Methinks, as thus we kneel, thus

Strengthning each other in higheſt

Diſobedience: Red hiſſing Bolts

Are forming to Conſume us!


Alas Emilius!


’Twas a Croſs thought—But let all

Be forgot, as theſe paſt Moments—Name me not

Nor think of me, till next we meet;

Then Appamia ſhall direct us. I hear the

Huntſman’s Horn; and gueſs my Father

Is returning—No word of me I beg.

D2 Adel. D2v 20


My Tongue I will Command----But my thoughts are full of thee,

As thine, I hope, ſometimes remember me.

Exit ſeverally.
Enter Vice-Roy, Lorenza; Attended.


The Lowering Heavn’s all Sullen as the Fate

Hear, Conſpire to Increaſe this moſt unwelcome

Load upon my Drooping Spirits! The Day,

Lorenzo, which was as fair at our up-riſing,

As Gaudy Nature cou’d put on, is now reverſt;

The Sun Wrapt up in Sable Clouds, Seems

To haſten his Delightful Courſe; and long

To Sett in Darkneſs!


Such are the Joys of Humane kind;

Uncertain, as the Seaſons! So Fortune Tempts us

With a Smiling Face; and (in a Moment) Sickneſs,

Death, or Cruel Diſappointment Blaſts

Our growing Expectations!


True, Lorenza; yet thou complain’ſt not

By Experience, or the weight of Sorrows:

But like the Common Vogue of the World;

That ſtill Cries out, The Times are hard.

Fate grows blinder; more unjuſt than ever,

With a Knaviſh Partial Hand Scatters

Her Favours: Miſſing none but the Deſerving!

This Complaint the preſent Age always thinks

Is new: When (alaſs!) their Fore-Fathers

Always ſaid the ſame—

But prethee, Lorenza, leave thou ſuch

Affectation—Thy fortune’s large; Thy

Character is good; Noble thy Birth;

And all the Bleſſings of a proſperous Youth, Attend thee.


My Gallant Friend! Venerable Governour!

Say, Rather all the Curſes.




The Wretch that in a Raging Feaver Lies,

Whoſe parch’d-up Soul Hunts round the Burning

Clay, wherein it is Confin’d, and ſighs but for a

Cool retreat: were he Lord of the Univerſe

Wou’d he not give it all for Liquid Draughts

Of D3r 21

Of Quenching Water; Sound his Big Titles,

In his Ears; Diſcloſe his Hoarded Wealth;

Lull him with Enchanting Songs; Surround him

With the Various Pleaſures, Luxury in Health,

And Power Invented; wou’d this make him

Happy? No! Like me amidſt the hateful

Buſtle, He’d beg for Eaſe, or Death


Folly, and Madneſs! Thou haſt no cauſe.


Not Cauſe! Is not all the Happineſs my Heart

Can gueſs at, or my mind can Frame, Treaſur’d

In Beauteous Adellaida? And doth not the

Diſdainful fair ſtill view me with relentleſs Eyes!

Like the Coy Daphne, Fly my Loath’d purſuit

Shun me, as ſhe wou’d Infection! O muſtmoſt Accurſt!

Hated by Adellaida, Why do I Live? Why Drag

This Irksſome Being, round a World, where

Nothing elſe can pleaſe!


Far from thy Soul be ſuch a thought my Son!

She hates the not; but fearful, unknowing yet

Mankind, will only try thy Faith, e’re

She, for Life Surrender.


Oh! had I grounds for that kind hope: I’de not

Exchange the Proſpect of ſuch Bliſs, to be

Spains Monarch, or the United Worlds!


Have you not my Approbation? and is ſhe not

The Pattern of Obedience? I own (won by her

Sweetneſs) I did promiſe not to force her

Inclinations; but I know ſhe wou’d as

Soon forgoe her Honour, as Contradict my will


That Don Lopez, the lately arriv’d Kinſman

Of your fair Charge—Oh forgive my Jealouſy?


Nothing but her Friendſhip to Appamia.

At the return of my belov’d Emilius, I hope

To fix that Lady, and all her Fortunes, in my Family,

Direct me heav’n, but in the Diſpoſal of thoſe two choice bleſſings

Thou haſt given (my Children) and what e’re Probations is thought

Fit beſide, ſhall be receiv’d without a Murmer!


Auſpicious be the Moment, that we offer up

Our Prayers! Grant me good Heav’n, my Love!

I ask no more.

Vice. D3v 22


Search, my Lorenza; find this darling Miſtriſs out;

Fall at her Feet; and Breath thy faithful Vows:

I’le follow; and my perſuaſions add: This kind Force

Will Storm her gentle Breaſt; and touch that

Heart, which ſeems Impenitrable.


Oh Love! Thou charming little God, dwell in my Eyes,

And hang upon my Tongue, with Honey-dropping

Eloquence! Steal through her Ears; and thrill into her Heart.

Till She at laſh th’ Almighty Rapture know:

To pleaſe her ſelf; and eaſe her Lover’s Woe!

Enter ApamiaAppamia and Zelide.


Remember Zelide, each particular

We’ave from Loviſa Learn’t.


Fear not Madam; my Memory ſhall be

A faithful Regiſter to ſerve you.


Eaſie, and plain her Words—

An honeſt Freedom ran through her Narration.—

And am I Doom’d to Ruine this Artleſs Innocence?


Bleſt be theſe Reflections! Cheriſh theſe thoughts;

Continue Madam, as free from Guilt

As is Loviſa.


But ſhall ſhe then poſſeſs Emilius?

Shall theſe Curſed Eyes behold the Hateful

Object of their meeting Loves! See the Gay

Years Circle round with flowing Pleaſure?

Whilſt I deſpair! No, rather gape widewide, thou Earth

And ſwallow them or me—to bear us all

The Burden is too great!


Still I am your Slave; and ’tis my fear for you;

For your dear Safety only, make me wiſh

You’d move no farther.


Yes; I will on; and give ’em back the Wracks,

I feel—Sure ’tis but Justice—

The Earl d1 characterflawed-reproduction Engleſac; he was the Man,

Her Father choſe for whom the Nuptuals were prepar’d,


Right Madam.
Enter Page.

Page[Speaker label not present in original source]

The Lord Bucarius waits your Pleaſure


Admit him, yet ſtay, come back Zelide Whither D4r 23

Whither am I going, can I decree Emilius Death

And Live? Yes; for he’s Dead to me already—

But can I deholdbehold the nobleſt Form, Nature

In all her Workings, e’re produc’d; or,

Joyning Art rendred Exquiſite, a cold Lump

Of Clay: The Immortal Soul Hunted by

Violence, from her lovely Dwelling.


Think well Madam; for after Death,

Repentance is too late!


What is’t that Staggers my Reſolves—

Avaunt thou ſoft, Intruding Pity!

Let my wild Fancy view their Scenes of

Mutual Love; and Fire my juſt Revenge!

Ha! Methinks I ſee their glowing Lips;

Which thurſt to meet their cloſe Embraces;

Where their beating Hearts keep time;

Their Arms are Revetted together!

Part ’em ye Powers; part ’em! Set Seas Olimpick Hills

And all the Lumber of the Earth between ’em!---Oh!


Dear Madam Ceaſe!


I will be Calm, as the ſtill Waters; when ſcarce

A Breath of Wind Curles the falling Waves—

Huſht like a ſleeping Serpent underneath

A bed of Flowers—But when thoſe

Happy Loves think to trace the Steps of

Everlaſting Joy. Tempeſts, and Whirlwinds,

Stings of Adders ſhall ſurround ’em!

Now let him come Oh what Earth-quakes ſhake

This little Frame, wou’d it were once Deſtroy’d

Emilius, and Loviſa then

Might Live in Peace.


Look up my Princeſs diſquiety be their Portion,

Since they have made it yours.

Mrs. Bowman,[Speaker label not present in original source]

He comes my Woes muſt be diſſembled, and my

Looks be Cheerful.

Enter Bucarius.

—My Lord, did you not wonder at my Summons?


I was pleaſingly ſurpriz’d; as Dying Men with a

Reprive; or Tortur’d Minds with ſuddain Eaſe

So D4v 24

So Joyful, and ſo unexpected was the mighty Favour.


Your repeated Services I long hevehave weigh’d

Your continual Application, in whatever

Related to my welfare; nor is your Conſtant Vows

Of Love forgot----And if I ſeem’d to ſlight thoſe

Aſſiduities; it was but the utmoſt Tryal of your Faith.


Oh Sounds Celeſtial! Words Tranſcendent, as

Thy Charms! What can my Goddeſs mean?


Leave Extaſies, to a more fitting Seaſon---and if

You dare aſſiſt, and free me from an Uſurpation

Which I hate: My ſelf, with all the vaſt

Revenues I command, is thine, without another Article.


For one kind look, I woul’d have forfeited my Life;

But Brib’d ſo high: Methinks I ſhou’d do more than Dye.


You know the Vice-roy has Long been Ruler here;

And to his falſe Care my miſtaken Father

Left unhappy me.


Which prov’d his Bleſſing. The Court of Spain

Is ſlow in their Supplies; and when the Vice-roy

Firſt appear’d, the Iſland was in an Uproar;

Soldiers unpaid; and therefore Mutinous;

All form of Government neglected—He

Empty’d your full Coffers, to ſtop their

Craving Mouths; and with the Wealth of your

Great Anceſtors bought a laſting Peace.


Yet, tho’ I put up this; Remit the mighty Debts,

Which he can never pay: Still wou’d he

Retain a Tyranny upon my Will; ſtill

Guide my Actions, and diſpoſe of all my Fortunes.


By your Injuries, and my Immortal Love, he ſhan’not!

I’le Piſtol him to Morrow, on the Caſtle Walk!


And ſo be loſt your ſelf! For he ſtands High, in

Popular Opinion; the thoughtleſs Vulgar hallow him applauſe,

Becauſe he’s fam’d for Hoſpitality, ſurfeits their

Cenſure Appitites, and drowns their Souls

In Riot;

But wou’d you be directed by an injur’d Woman,

His Meaſures ſhou’d all be broke, his growing

Expectations Blaſted,

Buc. E1r 25


Inſtruct. Command me Madam, I Liſten to perform.


This Day ſuch Wonders has produc’d, that you’l

Scarce Credit my Relation; Emilius is return’d,

Emilius, whom even ſince my Childhood I own

To have Honour’d with my Friendſhip, truſting

It ſeems to that when in France he had ſeduc’d

A Lady from her Husband brings her to me to be

Protected; I Swear the Conſcious Bluſhes almoſt burſt

My Cheeks, if I reflect on the Vile Office he did deſign

Me; Shall I connive at their Amours, my Roof ſhelter

Their Impious Loves, help me Bucarius, help me to Curſe ’em.


Swift Vengeance overtake him: Emilius in Sardinia.

My Emulator ſtill in the bright Source of Glory. Diſappointment

Croſs his Delightful purpoſes; Heart-rending Plagues

For ever reſt upon him.


Not upon him, but the falſe wanton I’de puniſh; your

Sex is by cuſtom privileg’d to Injuries like theſe, your

Honours ſcarce tainted, call a Venial Crime, but

In a Wife ’tis ſure unpardonable.


What is it, Madam, you deſire of me?


To have this Woman in a Monaſtry Clapt up, or

Inſtantly ſent back to France. I’de have her Brother

Told her Baſeneſs, to have her given up to his Revenge,

I know not what I’de have, for whilſt ſhe ſtays, the

Sight of her, and of her Crimes will make me Mad.


Ha! I ſuſpect, but I will ſearch it throughly.

Who is her Brother?


Alas! I had forgot to tell you, this Emilius too I wiſh

Secur’d, till She is paſt the power of ever ſeeing

Him again, he is Diſguis’d and may be Seiz’d on

Some pretence.


Explain your Intentions to me, Madam.


The Room’s too publick for our Conference,

In my Cloſet, you ſhall be inform’d.


And if I ſtop at ought that you Command,

Or not Deſtroy whom ever you have Doom’d;

May this bleſt Moment of your kindneſs

Prove a Dream; and may I wake again to the

Despair in which the Dawning Day beheld me.

E App. E1v 26


That way—I’ll follow—

Now Zelide, now let the Glorious Sun

Withdraw his Chearful Beams—

Darkneſs, and furies ſhou’d Aſſiſt at this

Black Council—Oh Love! Thy Golden ſhaft

Pierc’d firſt this this Tender Heart, and warm’d it

With a Lambent Fire: which now by Jealouſly,

Is ſet into a Blaze.

How cou’d I Burn, how I am loſt in rage,

No Gentle Shower’s ſuch Mounting Flames Aſſwage,

Loviſa the belov’d muſt Mourn as well as I.

I’le be reveng’d my Zelide, and I’le Dye;

Can the my Rival then my Juſtice blame;

I give her Death, and taſte my ſelf the ſame.


Act III.

Bucarius and Roderigo, Meet.


Opportunely are we met, my Faithful

Roderigo, for I have Deeds in Agitation

That want a Subtil Head, a Heart reſolv’d

And Hand like thine to help Accompliſh.


Long have ye talk’d of Miſchief rail’d on the

Vice-roy, Breath’d nought but Grievances, and

Swore redreſs; but whilſt I find ye drag the

Proud Appamia’s Chains, whileſt thus ye

Haunt the Palace of that Diſdainful, fair Glory,

And Intereſt, tho’ they call aloud‘ I fear will hardly

Wake ye from the Lethergy of Love.


If now I ſhake not off the Effeminate Slavery.

Boys ſhall Proclame my Folly’s, and hout me

From this Society of Men; yet never till this

Moment had I ſuch Grounds to hope Poſſeſſion

O! Appamia her Wealth, and full Revenge on my

Honours Rival, and my Love the Curſt Emilius.


I cannot reach ye.


All ſhall be Unravell’d, there’s ſecret Marriges.

My Inſtrument, there’s Room for Plots that ſhall

De- E2r 27

Deſtroy the growing greatneſs of the Vice-roy’s Race.


Appamia Married!


No; She wou’d have been, my friend was firſt

In Love which ſure’s the greateſt Curſe, and Shame

Of Woman-kind. EmeliusEmilius the Object of her Fancy,

Who having bau’k’d her Eager Wiſhes ſhe meditates.

Revenge on his fair Choice, and I am to be the Fool



How found you this?


Her every word and look inform’d me, but having

Wrung each uſeful Circumſtance from her

Diſtracted fury, I’le Counter-plot her purpoſes

And ſure Deſtruction ſhall o’retake ’em all.

Come with me, and I’le unfold what I deſign,

Diſguiſes muſt be had, much thought, and Caution

Us’d, ha! She follows, and in htrher Face the Stamp of

Heav’n wears, but I know her Soul deceitful,

And will not truſt my Eyes to Gaze.

Enter Appamia and Zelide.


Not gone, my Lord, who have you there?


One that will Aſſiſt in your Commands.


Be Expeditious, and be careful, If the Reward

Inſpires ye.


The Task’s too eaſie—I woud have play’d

With Danger; for ſuch a glorious Prize,

Courted Hazards; where Life hung by a Hair:

And whatſo’re is fancied Dreadful has oppos’d me!


Zelide ſhall ſtill inform ye, how we move—

Induſtrious, and Faithful is the Indian Slave—

In her you may rely—Haſte, Noble Sir, as I have

Directed—Let your firſt buſineſs be to keep

Emilius from returning Inſtantly.



He moves this Day as I contrive, and you

Appoint, to Morrow is his own farewell;

Remember Princeſs what you have promis’d,


Can then Spain’s Beauty, Nay may I add

The world’s, receive this Rough General,

For her Lord, the Son of Fortune, only whoſe

Sword is his Inheritance, whilſt Princes,

E2 Lords E2v 28

Lords of Provinces Sigh to be her Slaves.


That’s a Thought the leaſt diſturbs me—

No Zelide, we ſhall never live to be his Bride.


How Madam!


Dye before; and ſo diſcharge our promiſe—

Harke thee, Zelide, thou art skill’d in

Baleful Drugs, the greateſt Foes to Humane kind—

One deadly drop by thee prepar’d, and mingl’d

With the ſtream of Life (the Blood) will Spoil.

The Nobleſt Frame of Nature, Poyſon each

Azure Channel; let down the uſeful Springs,

Stop the beating Pulſes, and all the curious Movements

Till the Machine Drops into it’s Original Clay,

To be reviv’d no more.


Oh Princeſs! Merciful Heav’n keep you,

From thoughts like theſe!


Why doſt tremble? you ſaid you were a

Princeſs Born; and that thy Swarthy Veins

Carry’d the Royal Blood of thoſe who heretofore,

Were Lords of Mexico! It muſt be falſe;

Thou haſt a Plebian Soul, elſe, thou hadſt

Us’d that skill, which I Implore: and died,

E’re been my Slave.


It was your gentle Uſuage which reconcil’d me firſt

To Life; and then to the Love of you:

Which if I have fail’d in—


No; thou haſt not; nor you ſhan’not—

If you refuſe me; with this drawn Dagger

I’le give my Rival preſent Death—Then

Our Laws will Doom me to ſevereſt Wracks,

And publick Shame upon a Scaffold End me.


Oh my Lov’d Miſtriſs!


Why is it ſuch a pain to Live, and ſin to Dye

If Bucarius fails, Loviſa’s not remov’d, and

Then this Night they meet, and long ſucceeding

Joyful Days and Nights attend ’em, prepare

My Slave a Draught, prepare for her, or me

Both caenotcannot muſt not Live.


Have peace, you ſhall be obey’d.
App. E3r 29


I thank thee, faithful Creature, now to the

Alcove lead—I muſt Tinge Loviſa’s Sweets;

If her mind is undiſturb’d, I am but half

Reveng’d—She muſt be Rouz’d; Alarm’d with

Doubts, and Fears ſet her Deſponding Heart in

Tortures like to mine—Create her Woes,

May Equal my Deſpair.


Scene Drawn.

Loviſa Sleeping on a Couch. Enter Appamia and ZelsdeZelide.


There wrapt in Innocence, and Peace She lies,

No Dreadful Dreams, warn her of approaching

Fate, Calm Sleep, Cordial to the Wretched, for ever

Fled from me ſeems fond to canghang upon thoſe

Beauteous Lids, Baths and Wanton’s in her

Eyes, and Revels on her Lips in Charming Smiles


Can you Commend, and not yet pity?


’Tis Emilius no doubt, is the pleaſing Image

Of her Dreams—She ſees him at her Feet

Hears his ſoft Vows, and Darts him back

Ten Thouſand Joys—


Madam, She Wakes!


What gone agen; ye Airy Fantam!

Why have you forſook me? Why are my longing

Eye-lids ſtretch’d in vain, for him, whom

Sleeping I beheld!


I told ye ſo—Forgive my over-care—

Such Charge Emilius gave; ſuch Charms

Have you: That much I Covet to be near you.


This is Exceſs of Noble Charity to a poor

Stranger; and your humble Handmaid—

But is there yet no news from my Dear Lord?


None—I doubt my fair Friend, you’l be

Too fond; expect more: Complaiſance,

More KinnneſsKindneſs, than our Spaniſh Nobles

Pay to Wives.

Lov. E3v 30


To Wives! Why Madam, is there a Dearer Name?


Bleſs me! Nurtur’d in the Court of FranceFrance, and Ask

That Queſtion—I thought your Gallantry had been

Our Example—I aſſure ye, there’s ſcarce a Man

Of Quality here, but wou’d think himſelf deſpis’d,

Deform’d, or moſt abominably Scandaliz’d,

If publick Fame took no notice that he had

A Miſtreſs—At all our old Cuſtomary Feaſts,

There’s not a Don, tho’ Marry’d to the Charming’ſt Bride,

On Earth, but wears ſome other Lady’s Colours;

Leaving his Wife ſo to be Honour’d by her Hero,

If ſhe has any: But by the Husband She’s

Certainly neglected.


Oh my Emilius! How far art thou from

Once reſembling ſuch a Waverer!


I’m glad to hear it—France has ſtrangely

Alter’d him! In this Court he was the very

Minion of the Ladies

Addreſt to all each blooming Beauty

Shar’d his Heart, tho’ none poſſeſt it wholly

With an Air of Univerſal Kindneſs apply’d to All;

But theſe were the Triffling Hours of Youth: Now

He ſeems fix’d indeed.


The Character is ſo indifferent from the Brave

Emilius, that were it not for ſtrongeſt

Proofs: I ſhou’d think you did not know the Man.


Oh! He’s a Diſſembler; take my word for’t,

But he may make the better Husband.


If I could think, the Lord, my Heart has Choſe,

For whom I have forſook all that the World

Calls Comforts, thus Inclin’d: I’de Dye to

Rid me of the Diſmal Apprehenſions,—

Oh Madam! Forgive me, if I ſay ’tis unkind!




To tell me this—If it be true, I’me undone!

Think on my Condition----Suppoſe you had left

This Delightful Palace; the Place where you are

Known, and Honor’d; fled with some Dear Man,

To Diſtant Climes—Conſider, how t’would ſhock ye,

But E4r 31

But to fear this truſted only Friend ſhould prove

Unconſtant, Faithleſs, as the Seas you Paſt! Such

Is my Fate, if he forſakes me, for whom Iv’e

All forſaken----Deſpair, and Death’s my Portion!

Oh Emilius! Cruel! Unkind! Return, and

Chear me, e’re it be too late!


Accuſe him not; nor grieve at what’s deliver’d

As a Friendly Caution---But why doth he Loiter now?

He ſaid he would not ſee the Vice-roy; and tho’ he hold

His Siſter near his Heart: Methinks, if he fulfill’d

His parting Words, his Viſit ſhou’d be ſhorter.


I know not what to think----My Soul ſo long

Has held him true; with ſuch a Faith

Believed his Promiſes: that it will be wondrous hard

To Judge him Falſe; but harder much to find him ſo.


Be wife, and you are happy----All yet is in your Power,

Untaſted Sweets; Virgins Favours; Beauty, like yours

Wou’d Urge the greateſt Rambler to play the Saint,

With Perjur’d Breath; kindle ſuch lovely Fires, and

Venture his Immortal Hopes, for your Embraces―

I ſay not this of our Emilius―But ſuch Men there are.




When next you ſee him; which muſt be ſuddainly, if

His Friends have ſway’d him, or Adellaida, by

The Deſcription of ſome fam’d Beauty in her prime,

Renew’d his old Amours: You’l find it in his

Alter’d Carriage; he’l be reſerv’d diſturb’d,

Spite of Diſſembled Fondneſs—mark him

Nicely, and you may diſcover―


Oh all ye Powers! is this my Task! muſt

My plain honeſt Heart, that’s full of Love,

Of Faith, and true Obedience, be wrack’d with

Jealous Pangs; ſtill on the Watch, to find out the

Tricks, and Turnings of Deceitful Men: No, rather

Than endure, the Killing Pain; the little abject

Office: I’le rip it up; and led out

Love, and Life together.


No, my Loviſa (give me leave to call you mine)

We will live in higheſt Pleaſure; Live, if you can,

Learn E4v 32

Learn like me, to Deſpair, and ſlight the Betraying Race

I, who have ſeen ’em Cringing at my Feet; been

Surrounded with eager Eyes, and bended Knees,

Stopt my Ears at the bewitching Charmers―

The Falſe Guilding of their Love wou’d not down

with me—I ſaw Intereſt Lurking underneath:

And ſcap’d Deſtruction


Alas! What have you ſcap’d? You are yet within this

Very bloom of Beauty; Love has not yet ſent the Hero

He deſigns your Conqueror; had you met with one

Like my Emilius, graceful in his Perſon; by

Nature fram’d to be the Darling Joy of Woman-kind;

Who, when he tells the Story of his Love, wou’d make

The Coldeſt Virgin’s Boſome Heave; her Heart to Pant:

And Eyes run o’re, as mine do now!


aſide. Oh ſcalding Drops; they ſet my Heart on Fire.


But when he ſees the liſtning Maid Incline

To the ſoft paſſion, his Sighs Inſpire: How his Eyes

Will talk; how he will tremble; How Infect

With the Convulſive Joy! How Swear! How Weep!

Oh ’tis too much for Words, ’tis Rapture all!


Torture, worſe than Death! Vengeance! Before my Face

She noth poſſeſs him! She dies, my Zelide, by all my

Wrongs She dies.


And did I believe all this, Innocent and Credulous;

The Eager Tranſports of a firſt Amour: the

Noble Vows of Simpathiſing Souls, which

God-like, and untainted Truth poſſeſt: Did I

Forego my Awful Duty, looſe the Dear Bleſſings

Of my Indulgent Parents, fly from my Tender

Mother, whoſe Arms Nurs’d my Infant Weakneſs

Up to this Ingratitude, whoſe kind Eyes never

View’d me but with a Smiling pleaſure—which

Now perhaps, are Streaming for my Fault;

Or Cloſing with Pangs, greater than those

I gave her at my Ill-fated Birth!


Oh! who can here words like theſe, and keep their

Temper! not Conquer’d India, Groaning under

Tyrannic Maſters, ſhows a greater Wretch!

App. F1r 33


Madam! what mean your moſt immoderate Griefs

Upon a bare Suggeſtion—Fie, Fie!

’Tis moſt unreaſonable!


Your Pardon—For I muſt have leave to Rave,

Can I but think of ſharing my Emilius’s Love, or

Looſing the Idea, my Soul had Fram’d of Deathleſs

Conſtancy; of endleſs Kindneſs; can my working

Fancy behold this diſmal wrak of all my Quiet,

And not run Mad!


Mad! For what? Oh, were but as free from

Love as I! Baniſh the thought that wou’d diſturb ye!


Never, Never; till I’m Convinc’d my Fears are Vain!



Prepare the Banquet, I commanded—let the Italian

Eunuch Sing; and ſofteſt Muſick turn her Griefs,

Till this Prince beloved, this deareſt Man return:

And bring Peace, and Comfort to her mind.


Oh Heavn’s! Banquets, and Muſick! am I

Fit for either!


Unkind is your Refuſal of what my Care provided.


I muſt Obey; with all theſe Swelling Griefs I conſent

To your deſires, becauſe you ſay ’tis kindly meant.

So Wretches, who deſpair, when Death’s in View;

Do Pleaſures Taſte; and ſeem delighted too.

Feign’d Smiles conceal the faltering Smart;

Gay in their Looks: whilſt Tempeſts rend the Heart


Scene Draws.

Diſcovers Briſac, and Adellaida, ſitting on a Couch A Song. After the Song.


Crown’d with dear Conſenting Love, Liſtening

To the Muſick of thy Voice willingly wou’d I

Forget the buſie World; with thee Supinely paſs

My Softer Hours on this Lov’d Boſome Wrack’d

With delight, confeſs the bliſs, my Adellaida,

Created with Golden Slumbers Charm’d and

F Waking F1v 34

Waking ſtill to bleſs the Beauteous Cauſe, Crown’d

With Happy Days, and Happier Nights, which

Feaſted every Senſe with Love, and ſtill renew’d

Deſires, that will never, never Fade.


If, my Briſac, one Corner of the Globe were yours,

Or mine, I think we might Command a

Laſting Happineſs: But when both, tho’ born

To wealth, and Nobleſt Honours, are dependant on a

Rigid Parents Will: what ſhall we hope,

But laſting Woe?


Rather Eternal Joy! Is this the Language, Hymen

Requires, upon our Nuptial Day? No, No.

Kiſſes, Embraces are his Due—Words ſoft as as thy

Frame; and Looks that Melt in Kindly Shower’s.


Madam, the Lord Lorenza comes this way!


Ha! My Father’s Favourite! Call my Women!

Oh my Briſac! how awkard is the Sound of Love

Pronounc’d by thoſe we hate—Not but that

Lorenza’s Nicely brave; and Juſtly Qaalifi’dQualifi’d

For his inherent Greatneſs—But if there be

A Fate below: Sure ’tis ſhown in that

Which Guides Affection.

Enter Lorenza.


Thro’ all the Rooms of State, and Antichambers

Have I paſs’d: where the Dumb Gazers

In Expectation ſtand, like Statutes, or the

Senſleſs Pictures over ’em. No Life is ſeen

In Court, whilſt you Fair Princeſs Retire

To Receſſes, that are forbidden the Admiring World.


Methinks the Vice-roy’s ſide is proper’ſt

For the Gallant Man; where in this Iron Age

He will not fail to hear of Seiges, Battles,

And all the Glorious buſineſs of the Brave.


Yet there’s a Lord, like me, ſeems to build

His Hapineſs in Beauty.


Does that Diſpleaſe ye?


Don Lopez, I ſhall find a place and time

To tell you whether it does, or no.


Soon as you will—I’m ready.
Adel. F2r 35


Oh my poor heart!―My Lords!

Choſe ye my Apartments for your Broils?

Hence I command ye both―you Don Lopez,

Return ApamiaAppamia Word, I’le wait upon her―

And for you, my Lord, I ſhou’d be glad to know

What buſineſs brought you hither?


Oh Words, and Looks cold enough to Confirm Deſpair.

―But my Happy Rival ſhall not Triumph (for ſuch

I know he is) here will I be reveng’d, or Fall!

Turn thou Invader of all the Joys, my Youth

Had promis’d; for, upon this ſpot of Earth

Will I diſpute for Adellaida; tho’ her Preſence

Make the Chamber Sacred!


Here woud’ſt thou Fight for Adellaida,

To have the Womens Cries Alarm all the Palace:

Be parted, ’ere my Arm cou’d reach thee―Boy.


Thou art a ſecret undermining Traytor.




Don Lopez, my Lord have I no power?

I charge thee go; or elſe plunge both your

Swords into my Boſome―go I charge ye―

And leave me with Lorenza!


Farewel! The time was moſt unfit:

And I repent my raſhneſs.


So, My Lord was this well done!


Oh Madam! ask the Mad-man a Reaſon

For his laſt Extravagance! Ask Sinners

In Diſpair, why they Curſe Heav’n, when

They ſhou’d Pray? Your Beauteous Eyes

Have ruin’d me! they have darted Fires,

Which tho’ they ſet me in Extrameſt Burnings:

Yet the reflected Heat warms not the ſmalleſt Particle of you!


Lorenza; tell me freely, is it your ſelf

You Love, or me?


Oh Cruel Queſtion! Command one Hand

To Cut the other off;

Take this Weapon―Stab me o’re, and o’re with

Wounds tho’ but in wanton Sport of Tyranny,

Se if I’de Complain!

F2 See F2v 36


If this be true, if you cou’d ſuffer this, ſure you

Can ſuffer leſs; and for a Gift ſo Noble, as

My everlaſting Friendſhip, bear the Wrack

Of diſappointed love.


I gueſs your meaning―how quick it runs

Thro’ my Diſtracted Brain! ’tis got alrendyalready

To my Heart, and pulls the Burſting Strings―

Your Father comes―But, Oh! I find no

Advocate will do!


Stop him Lorenza.

Divert his Wrath, for much I fear, He

Has heard of this diſorder: Perform my firſt

Deſires; and let me be oblig’d.


Tho’ Death is mingled with theſe ſweet Words,

And ſurely will follow: yet much I’m pleas’d to hear ’em.


No; you ſhall Live renown’d, and long; if my

Prayers prevail: But meet my Father, and appeaſe him.


Will you forgive me then this Roughneſs; this moſt

Unmanly Violence, my paſſion Caus’d?


I will.


But will you ever ſee me more?


Yes; Inſtantly: and tell you all my Fate.


Oh thanks; tho’ ’tis my undoing, whilſt I hear

You ſpeak: I ſhall dye Contented.



This young Noble man, is Honeſt Juſt, and Brave;

I muſt Confide in him; elſe his Love will

Set him full at my Briſac; or draw my

Father’s Hatred on my Husband.

What a Name is that! How much is he Dearer

Than all Mankind! If I forget my Duty

Forgive me Heav’n.

’Tis Love Nature’s firſt, and great decree

Preſerver of the World and Conquerer of me.

Enter Bucarius.


So, this Diſguiſe will do; Appamia doubtly

Arm’d for our Deſtruction, Reſiſtleſs Beauty

Dwells in her Cœleſtial Form, but Oh! Hell has

Been at Work Within; There Subtilty, Revenge,

And F3r 37

And violent Paſſions Reign, yet ſhe ſhall be

O’re reach’d and yield to my Embraces; or

Bear the Odium of the Bloody Crime which

I’le Contrive; Heiſt Roderigo.

Enter Roderigo.


The ſame.


Well! How, and How.


Exactly as your heart deſires―Emilius paſſing

From the Palace back to Appamia was ſeiz’d,

His name demanded, which he denying, was, a Spy clapt up;

And there Remains, till you think fit I ſhou’d releaſe him:

And as you Order’d, give the Paper.


Within an Hour let it be done―Comes

Don Lopez, as I directed?


He follows; I told him a Stranger waited

For him, in this private Grove.


Excellent! away, be careful Roderigo, ſince

Ruine, or Glory, waits ſuch bold Attempts―

Fly—I hear him.―

Exit Rod.
Enter Briſac.


By my full hopes of the dear expected Bliſs,

This Quarrel moſt Ominous. If

’Tis Lorenza waits me hear, ſhou’d Death

Or Conqueſt be my Fate; What Troubles

Muſt I heap on thee, my poor kind Adellaida!

Ha! Who have we here!----Wou’d you,

Sir, ought with me?


If you are the Count Briſac.―


Briſac! How came you by that Name?


My Eyes Informe me you are the the Man.


Truſt me Friend, I cannot recollect where

They Learn that Knowledge; for till this

Moment, ſurely mine did ne’re Encounter ’em.


Yes; often: Tho’ not heedfully, my time indeed was ſpent

From Court, where, you reſided, but my Noble

Injur’d Friend----I’me ſure, you’l own―


What Friend? Lead me out of this amaze!


The Earl of d Angleſack.


And what of him?
Buc. F3v 38


Have you not a Siſter too―Loviſa Nam’d?


Yes. Pleaſing is the Remembrance; her Beauty

And her Fame ſtood fair, when I left France;

I dare Anſwer for her, She has not loſt the

Virtuous Character.


Beauty, indeed, ſhe ſtill retains—But, Oh!---

The more Ineſtimable Jem, Bright Honour—!

Which ſullied once, or loſt, like the flying Hours,

Can never, never be retriev’d!


Whither do thy Speeches lead; for I am yet i’th’ Dark?


Obſerve, that Earl I mention’d, Eſpous’d your Siſter


I do believe it; for my Father writ, ’twas ſo Deſign’d,


Oh fatal Nuptuals! Oh unhappy Marriage

Wretch’d d’ Engleſack! Oh my deareſt Friend!


What mean theſe Exclamations! Who

Has wrong’d your Friend, and mine?






If deſerting his Bed, and him, when ſcarſe the

Hymenial Tapers were burnt out, e’re the

Freſh Beauties of the Spring, by Virgins ſtrow’d

Were wither’d: If this baſe: Then baſely

Has Loviſa done.


With whom? Or what: Or how? Let me

By degrees to a juſt Fury riſe!


Of him ſhe has blindly chose, I can give

But ſmall Account—―Some Idle Debauchee,

Who caught her with a Foppiſh Face;

A Guady Coat; ſuch a deſpicable Triffle.―


Patience, ye boiling Viens! Back to your

Fountains!; and carry cooling Patience!—

Where are theſe Adulterers? Speak, thou

Upſtart Fiend; ſent to Wrack my quiet!


Behold this wound, given by the Villain who is

In Sardinia hid―I have track’d him hither,

Your Father, and the Earl, come on; but Spite

Of the diſabl’d Arm, I’le make Vengeance ſure,

E’re the diſhonor’s blaz’d abroad.


Thou make Vengeance ſure! Thou prevent the Dishonour F4r 39

Diſhonour of my Family! By Hell, I ſhall

Believe all that thou haſt ſaid a Curſt invented Lye:

Unleſs you ſhow me Loviſa in Sardinia.


I’le do’t; if you’l Engage to keep your temper;

And after bring you, where I am to meet the

Traytor. I knew not of your being here: nor when

I ſaw you, had I made an Application, but that

My over-eager Zeal for poor d Engleſack threw me on,

On his Honors Raviſher juſt at our Landing,

Where the Ships Crew, prompted by the Triumphant

Villain, whom I ſuppoſe a Native here disarm’d

And broke my Limbs.


Prodigious! All Monſtrous, and uninteligible!


I am ſorry I can with ſo much Eaſe convince ye

Who wou’d ſerve a Friend ſo earneſtly, and be

Thus ſuſpected it was my violent Friendſhip

Made me out-do their Search, and find away to paſs

In the ſame Ship, with the falſe Fugitives; tho’ ’twas

Too late to ſtop ’em―Follow me, I will Inform you

Of every little Circumſtance; and to Confirm ’em true.

Show you Loviſa in the wanton Reveller’s Arms.


Do this, and be for ever―




Curſt, as I am now!

From all the Downy Sweets, I long for, thus remov’d.

From all that’s Lovely; all that is belov’d.

From Love Natures Feaſt her ſublimeſt Joy

From Raptures, that wou’d almoſt Life deſtroy,

Rouz’d by the call of Honor, Injur’d Fame

My Love I hazard to preſerve my Name,

Quit the Deareſt Wife to hide a Siſters Shame.

Act IV.

Enter Appamia, meeting Zelide.

Mrs. Bowman,[Speaker label not present in original source]

Haſt thou ſeen Bucarius


I have.
App. F4v 40


And moves the Engine right?


As Mischiefs ſelf were the Contriver,―

Emilius is freed; and by a Letter charg’d with

Villany, a Feign Challenge ſent him, to defend his Honor,

Threatn’d with Cowardize: If he devulge or

Forbear the meeting.


An early Courage, an undaunted Mind his forward

Youth has ſtill diſcover’d: His Manly Arm

Pluckt fair Fame from Danger’s uglieſt Mouth;

And in our Annals made long Tracts of brightneſs.


Gloomy, and ſad this way he walks; now revolving

Deeply in his troubl’d Breaſt, this unexpected Charge

Of Fate; then ſtarting, as from a Dream of Horror,

And Crying out Loviſa!


Aye; that’s the Thought that tears him; not

For himſelf, but her, he fears—Fool, Fool!

Be ſtill; or to Elyſium go, and meet her there!

On Earth I ſtand the Flaming Barr between

That ye ſhall never clasp with Joy—


The Lord Bucarius hither trains Briſca, by ways.

To him unknown, where he ſhall ſee Emilius, and

Loviſa behold their meeting Joys, and Confirm the

Diſhonor he ſuſpects; next the pretended Challenge

Draws Emilius back, and leaves Loviſa to yours

And to her Brother’s Rage.


My Fancy hurry’s on to wild Confuſions I dare

Not truſt Briſac’s reſentment, they may talk, and

All be well; is the fatal Cordial ready.


The Poiſon is.


But may we truſt Bucarius in his Contrivance

Of a Challenge, I know Emilius eager to Anſwer

His Accuſer, Suppoſe the General prove a real Foe

My Rage ſhrinks back at the thought of my Emilius,

I cannot bear that he ſhould be deſtroy’d, my Injuries

Mount high, but Love Soars higher yet, and will

Preſerve him.


Bucarius I dare promiſepromiſe will not exceed your

Commands, leaſt he forfeit what he ſo lately gain’d

Your Favour.

App. G1r 41


Emilius comes, haſt, give Loviſa Notice why

Doſt thou flutter thus my Injur’d Heart, why

Steals the Woman’s Weakneſs into my Eyes at his

Lov’d ſight, here will I wait unſeen, and view their

Fondneſs to Steel my Soul from all remorſe.

Enter Emilius, With a Paper in his Hand.


Call’d, Villain; Coward! Seiz’d

Challeng’d in my Father’s Court! And yet

By Honor, and by Love compell’d not to

Diſcover who I am. (for that wou’d give this

Blaſter of my Fame juſt Cauſe for his black Calumnies.)

But Oh! Loviſa!

To whom ſhall I commit her? How hide

Theſe dark Perplexities! Which ſhou’d the

Trembling Dear once know: ’Twou’d

Fright her Peace away; and

Break her tender Heart.

Enter Loviſa and Zelide.


See where he Stands; Squandering the precious

Minuts; which I with eager Expectation

Counted―Pains in my Heart, and in

My Eyes, inceſſant Tears.


Some Grief has ſeiz’d him; but ſure your Sight

Will huſh his Cares—I’ll to my Princeſs;

And inform her of his coming.


My Lord!


My Love! My Life!


Am I well us’d?


Are ye not my Deareſt!




By whom?


By thee, Emilius; thou much Lov’d falſe One!




Is this your promis’d haſt? Are theſe thy Joys Sardina

Yields? Cou’d you not add a Day to your Diſſembled Truth!

Muſt I be tortur’d inſtantly? Yes, yes I muſt!

For I deſerve it all; from Heav’n I merit more:

But not (Oh cruel Man) not from thee!

G Emil. G1v 42


My Angel! Thy upbraidings are unjuſt―

Were there no Cauſe for my delay: Methinks

Loviſa might have chid me leſs Severely―

But, Oh! Believe Emilius, who never will

Deceive thee, there was a Cauſe!


That Cauſe I’de know. If I am Lov’d,

I may be truſted―The Letter, which, at ſight

Of me, ſo haſtily you hid―Let me ſee it;

Eaſe the wracking Fears, that from my Heart and

Eyes draw painful Showers―For I too think, I

Have a Cauſe, much Cauſe, to ſuſpect thy Faith.


What Villain, equal Enemy to Truth, and me,

Has dar’d Traduce my Honor?


Give me the Letter; and I’le confront the Accuſer

With the falſhood you ſtand Charg’d.


How poor is your Requeſt! Command

My Life; and try your Power!


If deſiring ſo ſmall a thing I am deny’d;

What future hope can raiſe me from Deſpair!

Oh Emilius! Thy words have loſt their Accent!

And thy looks their Tenderneſs! Something ſadly

Whiſpers to my Soul, I am undone!―

For ever, ever Ruin’d!


Sure Fate has watch’d her time, for my Deſtruction!

And with a ſmiling Face, led me on to happy Moments;

Which I expecting doubly Fraught with Joys:

Now turn the Curſt Reverſe, and leave no

Graſping hold!


I am that Fate you fear; the Bar to ſome

New Beauty, or Wealthier Aim―But

Oh! My Lord! If there remains one Spark

Of Honor, beſtow me in a Cloyſter; amidſt ſecluded

Virgins I’le remain; nor murmur your unkindneſs—

Do this; if you are not loſt to all Humanity―

Let the Holy Veil ſhrow’d e, from the vile Scorns

Of your ungrateful Sex!


O here am I! Who is it talks thus to me!

It is Loviſa! My Wife! Dearer thrnthan

Theſe Eyes! Dearer than my ſtrugling Heart!

Which G2r 43

Which never trembled, but at thy Anger!

Dearer than every Tye, or Bond, which Nature makes!

By her am I Condemn’d; by her thus hardly us’d,

Take notice thou Stranger, Enemy; whatſoe’re

Thou art—All thy approbrius Names I here

Forgive Thee; ſince ſhe, my Boſom’d Soul, who

Like my Conſcience, knows each Action of my Life:

Since ſhe Taxes me with loſs of Honor―Oh!

All ye Powers! Perhaps I have miſtook the

Paths of Virtue; and am indeed a Villain!


I cannot bear to ſee him thus! It wracks me,

Worſe than my SuſpicionsSuſpicions Oh! Forgive my

Inconſiderate Words; and take me to your Arms; whilſt

Mine are fill’d with Pleaſures; leaning on your Breaſt,

And Liſtening to your Sighs; let me forget my Sorrows;

And if it is Deceit: ’Tis alſo Delight ineffable,

To be ſo deceiv’d!


Oh Charmer! Charmer! But all words are weak,

I’le graſp thee, fircer, than Life can bear;

And leave my Soul upon thy Lips!

Mrs. Bowman,[Speaker label not present in original source]

App. aſide behind
the Scenes.
Poiſon, and Death ſhall enter next the
Torturing Wretches!
Bucarius and Briſac appear in the Balcony.


Look there!


Ha, my Eyes betray me into Errors!

Blaſts, and Lightenings ſeize ’em!


Forbear your Paſſion; or our Revenge is loſt!

’Tis but one Slave, by Bribes I’ve gain’d:

On, the leaſt Noiſe we are diſcover’d!


Do I not Love ye!


I will ſuſpect no more!


Curſt, Curſt Loviſa! Contagion of my Blood!

Diſgrac’d is our, till now, untainted Honor.


Vile Loviſa!—Begon! they’l turn

Upon us! Begon; or I ſhall think you

Cowardly! Avoid the Vengeance ſuch wrongs require!


Fly! I need no urging; Conduct me to the

Fatal Place; that I may mark it for the

Traytors Blood! O Loviſa!

Exeunt from the Balcony.
G2 Lov. G2v 44


Ha! Did I not hear my Name!

It was pronounc’d aloud; and with a Voice,

That I’m ſure is not unknown!

Oh my Emilius! All my Fears return!


Thy Fancy only!


Yet, you ſtarted too! Ha! Thy lovely Eyes

Relate their Fires! and thou agen

Art loſt in Contemplation!


Take off Oh! Loviſa, thoſe piercing Looks;

Let not thoſe Heav’nly Lights, the Planets

That muſt Rule my Days, this Moment

Pry into my Heart: And all the Years

I have to come. I’le lay it open, to thy view: Spare me ſome

Hours, and I’le bring thee everlaſting Peace!


Eternal Woe! Ha! I reflect on thy paſt words!

Thou haſt an Enemy! O Idle Jealouſies; where

Got ye room into a Boſome that is fill’d with naught

But Love! Behold me on my Knees; Hanging upon

Thine, with Dying Pangs! Oh! Let it ſtrike Compaſſion

Through thee!


Why doth thy Tenderneſs Torment thy ſelf, and me;

Indeed my Love, there is no Danger; nor Juſt Cauſe

For thy diſquiet―I’le intreat our Friend to Comfort ye!


I have no Friend, but thou; ſtay with me, I beg ye by

Theſe Tears; By theſe poor trembling Limbs; which with

Their ſhaking looſe their Hold, that I will never quit

Till Life forſakes me!


Oh hardeſt Tryal!----But the time will be Elaps’d----

Who waits there?


Do call ’em----Command they tear me from ye!

No, they need not! Death, Death rids ye of the trouble!


She faints. Ha! Sinks! Faint and Cold!---Appamia

Princeſs! Zelide! Help there!

Enter Appamia and Zelide.


Bleſs me! What’s the matter? Loviſa Swooning

In your Arms!


Enquire not; but quickly apply ſome Remedy!


The precious Cordial—now Zelide; now―


App. G3r 45


Doſt thou demur; and ſeeſt the lovely Creature dead

Be Swift, I charge thee! Fly!—Exit, and returns with a Bowl. Bend her

Gently forward!—Give it me―

Hold, from your Hand it wil be moſt acceptable―

Mr. Verbruggen,[Speaker label not present in original source]

Emil. to Zel. Why doſt thou tremble?


Alas! We are frighted all! T’has ſeiz’d me ſo:

I am almoſt in her Condition!


My Love Drink this—


Well may ſhe indeed be faint; for all my Art

Cou’d not perſwade her, in your abſence, by the Taſte

Of, ought to Refreſh her out-worn Spirits.


Oh! Will it give me Reſt― Drinks.


I hope ſo deareſt!


’Tis done, and by his Hand!----Methinks the

Infernal Powers Smile; turn; turn o’re their horrid Leaves

Of black Revenges: And ſet mine down moſt Exquiſite!


How fares my only Bleſſing?


Beyond the power of ſtrugling longer with my Woes!

Lead me Virgins, from him, and from the Light;

Let Sable Curtains make an Artificial Night

There will I fix, and my ſad Fate deplore,

Nor e’re look up or aim at Comfort more.



She’s gone! And with her Griefs has riven my

Heart aſunder! Oh Appamia! By the pure

Fire, that kindled in our Infant Minds, and grew

To Friendſhips holy Flame, I do Conjure thee

Cheriſh my Loviſa; whatever rugged Fortune’s mine,

In Life’s uncertain Lottery: Or if the Blank

Prove Death; Oh! Let me dye your Beggar: Turn

All the kindneſs you have born to me, and

Fix it on my Mourning Bride! So may

The Power’s ſhed on your Beauteous Frame

Eternal Bleſſings; never ceaſing Joy:

And ſucceſſive Comforts without end!


Why this Injunction?


If I return: ’twas needleſs: If not,

Remember it my lateſt Prayer!

Protect that Innocent Unhappy Fair:

And Shield her from that ugly Fiend Deſpair.

App. G3v 46


Ye Curſt Fond Fooliſh Eyes, that drew in Fires, yet

Wanted power to dart ’em back, Stretch your Extorted

Lids perſue his Lovely Form, perhaps ye never

May behold him more. Zelide, I prethee Drench this

Dagger in thy fatal Compound that the leaſt

Enterance by it made, may carry Death ſpeedy

And inevitable


Is this at laſt the only Service I muſt do for

My moſt GenerousGenerous Miſtreſs, to ſcatter deſtruction

Round, and leave her Name Accurſt.


’Tis paſt, my Zelide, we are plung’d in deep

Unfathomable depths, there’s no returning.

The ſhudderrings o’re Loviſa there I muſt ſink

In Blood, and looſe the ſenſe of fear.


Oh for Loviſa I cou’d week! In few hours ſpace

Such heat will boyl within her Veins;

Such pains will ſtretch her Aking Nerves;

Intolerable Burnings in her Brain; thro’ every

Pore Fire unquenchable force its way;

Hiſſing in her Blood: and Flaming in her Eyes.


And by Emilius this Cordial Draught was

Adminiſtred: ’tis fit he ſees his handy work—

Oh Subtil Aid of Hell; for the Contrivance was

Beyond my hope—In ſuch pains muſt She Expire, ſay’ſt thou?


Oh yes! But if your Chriſtian Faith, I have Learnt

Be true; Death Ends her Miſery, and mine for cauſing it,

Bears an Eternal Date.


Canſt thou fear Hell, that look’ſt its Offspring?

Complexion’d as our Fancy paints Devils—

But (Oh!) for me, who have a thouſand times

Been told my Form was bright as Angels Form,

To ſink amongſt Infernal black Tormentors!

Away! I’le ſhun that thought, my ſelfe I’le fly,

To think is taſting Hell, before I dye.


Scene Changes.

Enter Adellaida and Amidea.


Support me, Amidea; for I ſink with Fears!

And ye Auſpicious Stars, Aſſiſt! Grant, as I

Wiſh G4r 47

Wiſh to looſe a Lover, I may gain a Friend!


See, Madam he comes.


By my Appointment comes—What ſhall

I ſay? How work him to my Wiſhes?


Denying his deſpair, Succeeds.
Enter Lorenza.


With all the trembling Fears, unhappy Wretches

View their awful Judge, I am come to know

From you, the bright diſpoſer of my Fate

What is my Doom?


And when that Doom is paſt, Lorenza the Wiſe,

And Brave, Arm with Reſolution; and what’s

Irrevocable, bear with unſhaken Minds.


Oh pointing Prelude to the ſure Blow of Fate!

Why was I born! Or why preſer’d to this

Diſtracting Hour! ye Malicious Stars that knew

Me form’d the hate of Adellaida? Why in my CardleCradle did ye

Forbear to ſhed your poiſonous Fires, and blaſt my

Thoughtleſs Childhood: E’re I knew ſuch pangs as theſe!


Call it not hate, Lorenza, when I profeſs an

Eſteem particular; which every day increaſes,

And grows to an Admiration of your Noble Qualities.


But never will produce the leaſt ſpark of Love---Say Madam

Is is not ſo? Do I not ſpeak your thoughts?


Suppoſe you came too late: turn’d Beggar, when I

Was Bankrupt grown; your worthy Heart is not

To be Trifled with: therefore I deal without Reſerve.


Executions tho’ delay’d, or given Inſtantly

Bear equal Terror!


That you, My Lord, already have my Father’s Voice,

Is Granted; Nay, that Minutely I expect his Dread

Commands, Moſt true: but that they cannot be by me

Obey’d, is alſo a ſad Truth; which you muſt hear!


Hold, ’e’re ye pronounce my Fate!—what! never

Adellaida? no continu’d Services? not Reiterated

Prayers? no Expence of Blood? will nothing,

Nothing move thee? Oh Inexorable!


Had I not thought you the Nobleſt of Mankind

I had not Dar’d thus far; For my Petition is―

Lor. G4v 48


I Gueſs it Madam—what ails my heart to heave!

But go on—all will be Calm.


Ha! Lorenza! Thy Face grows Pale

I wou’d have ask’d thee, to have told the Vice-roy

Thy deſires were Chang’d—But Oh! I find

Thee fix’d, to both our Ruins!


What does my Rival fear my Sword? Or does he

Scorn me? Or is it height of Pride or Cruelty

To ſend me Death, this Torturing way?


Wrong not the Innocent; ’tis I alone wou’d tempt thee

To a Generous Act; to do a Deed, will ſet the

Foremoſt in Heroick Lovers Fame; to quit thy

Paſſion, but to ſave thy Miſtreſs—for Oh! if you

Perſiſt, you may heap my Father’s wrath upon me;

Yes, you may cauſe my Death: My Love ye cannot Cauſe!


O Severity!----But I’le Complain no more---If I am

Thy diſtin’d Victim, ’tis he, the happy he, ſhall

Send me thro’ my Wrack’d Heart; force his Triumphant

Way, with hands ſteep’d in my Gore, (a ſight will

Pleaſe thoſe Cruel Eyes) Graſp the Bliſs: for which,

Whilſt I have Breath, I ſhall be wiſhing!

is going


Hold, Lorenza, againſt whom doſt thou Arm?


Needs that Queſtion? Don Lopez, my Curſt Supplanter!


Stay thee a Moment; and know—That Noble

Youth’s my Husband—If after this knowledge, thou

Dar’ſt to lift thy Impious Hands againſt him;

If thou doſt Wound him (For Chance of’t Rules the Brave:)

Blaſted be my hopes for ever, when I not double all thoſe Wounds

Upon my Boſome! If I not neglect my lateſt Prayer;

And in Curſing thee, forſake the hated World!


Oh wretched State!----Be ſtill, my

Raging Heart, be ſtill! Bound no more in boyling

Blood! I’le ope the Sluce; and give the Eaſe—

Turn, Adellaida, ſwift as thy Wiſhes! See where

Thy Fury falls---I have Reveng’d thee of thy deteſted Foe!

Stabs himſelf.


O deſparate Man! Now thou haſt Ruin’d me

Indeed―Some help there!


All help is vain; when Deſpair, like mine, gives

The Blow! There needs not ſecond Aim—ſay—

Won’t thou Curſe me now?

Adel. H1r 49


Oh! I muſt Curſe my ſelf for ever! Why, Amidia;

Doſt thou ſtand agaſt? Start from thy ſad amaze;

And fill the Palace with thy Cries.


Help here! help! Exit.


Lorenzo! thou raſh unfortunate!

What haſt thou done?


Ha! Can my Streaming Wound force a relenting

Tear? Yes, yes, it does: Let not the Precious Balm

Drop too near my Heart: Leſt I Revive;

And agen Torment thee!


Oh! I wou’d waſte in never ceaſing ſhowers,

To ſave thy Noble Life.


Is’t poſſible? Lend me thy Hand; nor ſhall your

Too, too happy Husband feel a Jealous pang―

The Kiſſes I ſhall leave upon it, are Damp’d

With the Cold Dew of Death.

Enter Vice-roy, Attended.


Whither does this dolefull Sound Conduct me?


Behold the Blaſting Sight!


Ha! Lorenza Dying! who has done this Curſed Deed?


I, my ſelf. Farewel my Father―

Oh Adellaida, Farewel.



My Son! My Darling Expectation for ever gone!

―Ah Trait’riſs! Ah Ingrate! well mayſt

Thou Weep: This was thy Work.


Oh Sir!


’Tis paſt excuſe, or Pardon! has my Indulgence caus’d

This Diſobedience? Curſt then be former Fondneſs; I ſhall

No more behold thee, but with a Loathing Eye.


Fatal Sounds! Drive not your once Lov’d Daughter

To Diſtraction.


Where lernt ye boldneſs to contemn my Choice? Confuſion

Light upon your Awkward Sex! Give ye your Will;

Your Headſtrong Will, and you’l lead your ſelves into perdition.


Kneeling I implore your Mercy---O pity and forgive

Your Wretched Offspring, with dear Paternal Bleſſings

Raiſe me; Or I ſhall ſink beneath your dreadful Anger!


Pity and Pardon! when I behold the blooming Hopes

Of Spain Level’d by thy baſe Pride, below the meaneſt

Slave! Deny’d the Sacred Funeral Rites! Rak’d up in

H Vile H1v 50

Vile Unhallow’d Clay! Oh ſad Remembrance! ’Tis

For ſome Minion this Brave Young Man was Sacrific’d---

But hide him I Charge thee, hide him from thy

Injur’d Father, or by my Juſt Reſentment,

He ſhall be Years a Dying. I’le have his Eyes pull’d out,

His Fleſh by Burning Pincers torn; and when he Roars,

In heat of Torment, Scalding Oyl ſhall be the Draughts

Adminiſter’d, and Add to his Helliſh Pains.


See Sir, See; how you drag me on the Earth!

Send, Send me to Lorenza; but uſe ſuch killing Words no more!


If he ſcape my Vengeance, may the ſure hand of Fate

O’retake him! when with Fond Eager Eyes,

Thou ſteals to the Banquet of ungracious Love;

May’ſt thou View him the Deſtruction of thy Hopes,

Pale, Bleeding, and Dead; as is Lorenza.


Kneel Amida, kneel, proſtrate lye on the Ground

Bathing with me his Feet,

And lifting up thy Hands, to move him.


This Murder’s thine, Falſe Girl! Seek Heav’n

With Patience, and Prayer, Cry out aloud for Mercy there;

Which (Oh!) I fear will now be hard to find!



Riſe Madam, I beg ye Riſe,

Theſe Wounding Griefs Conſume ye.


Ah Cruel Father! ther’s ſomething whiſpers to my heart

I ſhall have Peace, in ſpite of all this Drowning Tempeſt—

Yet I will Rouze a little, and warm my moſt unhappy Love,

My Dear Unfortunate Briſac: Conjure him

Fly This Fatal Iſle!

And ſafety in ſome humble Harbour find.

For ſure no Star Reigns here, to Lovers kind!


Act V.

Enter Briſac, and Bucarius.


This is the Grove, you ſay, wherein you did appoint

That Vile Companion of my Siſters Luſt, a Meeting.


It is. And he, bold in his Crimes, defied my

Challenge; and ſwore to anſwer with his Sword.

Briſ. H2r 51


Enough, The unlook’d for Infamy carry’d ſuch a ſtain.

That my Heart deteſted to Communicate the Story,

Even to my neareſt Friends—Therefore,

Thou Stranger, (as thou art) If I fail, I leave

To give my Father and the Enquiring World

A Juſt Account.


Impartial Heav’n will avert your Fall I dont doubt;

However, by the Friendſhip I owe your Siſters Husband,

The wrong’d d’ Engleſack: I’le ſpeak your Actions Nobly.


Yet there is ſomething more―


Freely Declare your Pleaſure.


This Letter to the Princeſs Adellaida, the

Vice-roys only Daughter, deliver from my hand;

She will take care of you, and my wretched Siſter.


Conclude it done; unleſs your own Commands forbid it.


No more. I ſee the Villain comming, my riſing

Blood proclaims him ſo. Be gone; nor

Watch the Event: But leave the reſt to Fate.


Farewel, thou Gallant Man, Honour guide

Thy Sword thro’ the Polluted Veins

Of that falſe traytor.




as he goes off.
Fight, Fight, ye thick Skull’d Fools,

Till I part ye! Yet hereabouts my bus’neſs is to Lurk—For

Whoſoe’ere O’recomes, this Poyſond Sword diſpatches

Him; beſides Roderigo, and choice Ruffians wait

Leſt they ſhou’d Parley, and agree

Enter Emilius.


Art thou the bold Inſulter o’re my Fame; who

Unprovok’d forceſt my Arm to Chaſtiſe

Thy Ill-manner’d Folly?


So Haughty! But words are a Coward’s Armour,

To hinder my Suſpicions—thou art ſuch—

Speak only this, and then no mo—Haſt thou not

Brought from France a Fair Falſe Woman

Call’d Loviſa


The trueſt, and moſt Charming of her Sex—

I own I have—


Hold—Now uſe thy Sword; for mine

Is eager to be thee.

H2 Emil. H2v 52


Heav’n Witneſs, I was never backward—

Heav’n alſo knows my Soul is free from fear:

Yet there is ſomething in that Form, which ſtay’s my Arm:

Sure ’tis the Reſemblance of my Loviſa!


Thine, Villain! Thine! Come on; or I ſhall

Take thee unprepar’d.


Diſputes thou her! Nay then, farewell;

All thoughts of Peace―

They Fight, Briſac falls

My Sword has pierc’d thee―

Yet I tremble for’t—am ſtrangely

Shockt! As if I had receiv’d the Wound I had given!


Thou haſt indeed, o’re come; tho I appeal to

Honors Rules; and Juſtifie the Attempt.

Enter Bucarius.


Ha! My Friend! I’le ſtretch my pinnion’d Arm,

And burſt tho new Sodder’d Sinews to Revenge thee!




Hold baſe Man! Nor call me Friend, and practiſe

Villany like this! Aſſiſt ye Powers, my weakneſs;

And let me throw my Body twixt their meeting Swords,


Thou art Diſarm’d.


And you are Wounded—


And to be felt, a Scratch!


You have both your Banes: and now I’le

Leave ye.



But—What art you? What unequal’d Hero

Who in the laſt Efforts of Life, ſtrugleſt

To ſave thy Enemy?


Juſtice was ſtill the Maſter of my Actions—That

Urg’d me now to ſave thee: That prompted me

To take thy Life, for the abuſe of my lov’d Siſter.


Thy Siſter! Speak that agen―But let a

Dreadful Bolt of Bellowing Thunder follow,

And ſtrike me paſt the Senſe of ever hearing more!


Loviſa! To whom, tho’ my Veins empty a pace, I

Bluſh to own, is my Siſter: Marry’d to the Count

d’ Engleſack——and thus―Oh


My Wife I ſwear; as ſure as the Deſtruction

This Curs’d Deed has Drawn upon me―But

Oh no further Talk; no Words—Lean, and

Let me bear thee to the adjoyning Palace of

Appamia H3r 53

Appamia―There try the power of Art,

To ſtay thy Fleeting Life.


To Appamia’s----My Lab’ring Heart

Beats quicker at the thought―There I may

See―But I will not Name her―She

Shall be happy, and I forgot.


Lean, Sir yet more—Yonder I ſpy ſome

That may aſſiſt Us―Oh Fate! Oh Loviſa!

How ſhall I ever dare appear before thee;

Thus ſprinkl’d with thy Brother’s Blood?

Re-enter Bucarius, and Roderigo.


The Victims are ready for the Sacrifice----Now let ’em

Dye in whining Tales; and hope Elyſium; whilſt I Seize

My exaſperated Heroine.----And

Retire, till the Storm is paſt.


What’s your Deſign?


To abſcond a while; and if the Murmurings prove

Too loud at Us: To fly to the Indies; and there Revel

In Love and Pleaſure; too great for Laws;

And happy above the reach of Fate.


I ask but to partake your Fortunes;

Which ever way they Bend.


You ſhall Command ’em----haſt to Appamia

The humble way I need no longer move,

She dares not, cannot now deny her Love

Her Guilt, and Rival Rage her ſcorn Diſarms,

I’m paid with nothing but her long’d for Charmes.


Scene Changes.

Enter Adellaida, and AmediaAmidea.


How every Senſe, is out of Tune, wounded and broken:

When the Minds diſorder’d, through theſe Antique

Cloiſters have I walk’d alone, at the ſilent Solemn

Midnight Hour; without the leaſt fear, or apprehenſion----

Yet now a Gloomy Evening; and the Fatal Chance

Of the proceeding Day ſtrikes me with horror:

Each Marble Pillar ſeems a ſhrouded Ghoſt;

And the hollow Winds Eccho like their Groans!


Go back dear Madam! For ſure there is unuſual Terror


On; and ſeek Appamia: I have made thee

A Coward, by my Fears.

Enter H3v 54 Enter Emilius, Briſac, Led.


Here let me Reſt; any further Motion gives me preſent Death.


Gently ſet him down, whilſt I fetch help--

Whoſe there—My Adellaida.


Is it Emilius calls?


That Wretch Emilius! Oh Siſter! This curſed Hand,

And this unhappy Sword, I fear has ſlain a

Gentleman: Whom now to ſave I willingly wou’d Dye!


What Gentleman!


The Brother to Loviſa my Wife! Behold!


Ah! Murder! Murder! My Love! My Husband Falls. upon Briſ.


Darkneſs o’rewhelm me! What doſt thou ſay?


Thy Brother! Oh the ſtrange work of Fate!

But upbrad him not; nor grieve too much,

My charming Bride!

Upon thy Boſome let the poor Briſac Expire!

’Tis the Millky-way: And leads I hope to Heav’n!



Thou ſha’t not go without me; come back;

Come back! Open thy Eyes Speak yet again!

Breath upon me―Alaſs his Breath is gone!

Some Angel hat caught the precious Sweet:

And Treaſur’d it in Immortality!


Her Griefs root me with ſtiff’ning Horror!

Pale Death Uſurps the lively Red, that us’d to Adorn

His Face: What Villain with obdurate Heart

And cruel Eyes cou’d do this! But ſhall a Wife

Behold thee thus; and not Revenge Thee?—

Thy Dagger pointspoints the way deteſted, and

Accurſt I’le drive thy barbarous Soul to Shades

Below; if my Sight, almoſt Drown’d in Tears, can

Guide my feeble Arm!


Strike boldly!


Ha! my Brother! My Darling Brother!

Fall, fall thou Wretch! Strike, ſtrike and wound

Thy ſelf.


What mean ye?


Prevented then in Deſperation, Dig the Earth up!

Force thy way through the Center—or call upon

Yon ponderous Roof to Cruſh thee!

Amid. H4r 55


Help Sir! I cannot hold her!


What ſhall I do! prithee call my Father hither---

’Tis now too late to hide ought from him----

Exit Amid.

Oh! That at firſt I had diſcover’d her Love and mine


My Father! Ah his Curſe did this---a Parents

Curſe brought on me all this World of Woe!

Since then Curſes have the power to kill: I’le Curſe

All humane Kind! And firſt for thee—Deſpair

Still gnaw thy Soul; when e’re thou hop’ſt for Comfort,

May the deluding Viſion vaniſh from thy Eyes; and

Such a Sight as my Briſac is now: Be thy

Perpetual Portion!


I beg ye ceaſe!


Where’s now the charming Syllables; that us’d to carry

Thrilling pleaſure to my Heart; and melting ſoftneſs

To my Eyes! ’Tis gone! ’Tis paſt for ever! Even the

Laſt Antidote againſt Deſpair, Hope, is gone!―

Then with never-ceaſing Wailings fix here, on this

Dear dead Image, feed thy Soul with Sorrow; till

I grow Pale and Cold like my Sorrow Love: till

One Grave (the only Bridal Beremains)

Receive us both!


Severely has my Fate Ordain’d, that I ſhou’d be

The cruel Cauſe of theſe Heart-wounded Griefs!

Enter Vice-roy, Amidia.


What does this continual Voice of Sorrow mean?

Still to Alarm me with New Miſchiefs!

Can the time, Meaſur’d by ſo few Hours,

Produce theſe various Scenes of Horror?

Is it Don Lopez, o’re whom my Daughter Weeps?


Not Don Lopez, but a Nobleman of France,

Who in the late Progreſs, gain’d the Heart, and

Since the Nuptial Vows of my unhappy Miſtreſs!


Oh Sir! Your Son, your wretched Son has done

All this―Commit me to the hardeſt Laws,

My Juſt Country Decrees―But Oh!

If e’re in my Obedience I deſerv’d your Favourur’d

If my Mother whoſe lov’d Memory you Treaſur’d

As your greateſt Bliſs, Was dear to ye; when

Under the Ax, or on the Wrack I expire: Save

And H4v 56

And protect my wife—Send her ſafely back

To France: From whence I ſtole the unequal’d prize!


Emilius here! My Eyes, and Ears thus entertain’d

With Sights of Death, and Sounds of Marriage!

What mean theſe diſmal Riddles?


I can Explain ’em―See Sir your Power, you

Bid it Rain; and lo from my Eyes whole Deluges

Have pour’d----you ſaid I ſhou’d behold

Pale Horror in the Face of him I Lov’d

And look how dreadfully you are obey’d!


Alaſs! ’tis dire Confuſion all----But

Take her from the Body, and Guard her with ſpecial Care.

They go to take Adel. away.


Stand off! Indeed ye’are to blame,

Do not Father; do not part us now----

I ask but this Cold Hand---I’le lay it to my

Heart; and it ſhall bring me Quiet;

Everlaſting Quiet.


Ye humour her diſtraction---to ſome

Apartment lead her----


Let him come to me then--- do, do, Inhumane

Creatures do; yet all your Forces cannot keep in Life

I have him ſtill; I hold, I graſp him----

Ah me! Their cruel ſtrength prevails,

Another Look―Ye Tygers, my Heart-ſtrings

Swell, and Ach with painful ſtretching—

Once more, and they will burſt―Yes, yes,

My pale dead Love―I ſhall―I will

O’re take thee! I will, I will!

Exit forced off.


What have I done, Alonza; to deſerve

Such Puniſhments? Henceforth never

Let Man build, in Earth his Happineſs;

Since even our Children, whom we from Heav’n

are priviledg’d to Love, prove our greateſt

Torments! To the Hall of Juſtice let this

Dead Lord be born; and Summon thither the

Alcade, and all the Officers―Oh Emilius!

How ſhall I behold thee now a Criminal to

Heav’n, and me! But I won’t Chide thee

Leſt thou ſhoulſt ſuffer; and thy Father’s words

Prove the ſad Preſages of enſuing Fate.

Emil. I1r 57


You are too good; and I too guilty, for the Bleſſing

Of your forgiveneſs―I feel a Pain almoſt

Intolerable; where that Villain toucht me with his Sword.


Lead to the Wife you nam’d ſo tenderly; and let us

Try to ſtop the further Current of theſe Misfortunes.―

Enter Loviſa, led by her Woman; her Hair down, Diſtracted, Wounded in her Boſome, and Arms.

—Ha! What Beauteous Wretch is this?


My Loviſa! Or is it ſome Phantome, rais’d

For my Aſtoniſhment?


Give me way, I am all Conſuming Flames.

Unhand me. Let me Lanch my

Veins Yet Deeper! They are all on Fire!

Blood cannot quench ’em! My Breath is

Flakes of Fire! My Eyes like flaming

Meteors Shoot! My Nerves, my Arteries,

Like Shrivel’d Parchment ſhrink in Fire―

I Burn; I Blaze; I Dye―Oh that I cou’d

For Death they ſay is Cold!


Speak. La Brette, the Cauſe; e’re I Catch the

Madneſs! E’re I grow Wild as Winds,

And Deaf as Storms!


Thus did I find her mangling her own Fleſh,

Tearing her lovely Hair; and Raging in theſe Direful



Off, off with theſe

Burning Robes! Dip ’em in ſome Spring,

Then Cover me agen; and let ’em Drop, and Drop

Upon my Fiery Heart; Or turn the Rivers

On me; Lap me in Cool refreſhing Waves—

Give (Oh give) me Eaſe!


Oh that I cou’d―that I cou’d know from whence

Theſe Horrors come Horizontal whitespace indicates a pause by the speaker. Look not thus Diſtractedly

Upon me Be Calm, my Love; be Calm!

And ſince there is no hope of Life: Let’s Dye

In peace!


My Son!


Your Pardon Sir; I have no further wiſh―

The Buſineſs of my Hours is done!

I Vice. I1v 58


Alonza! Search, Inquire; theſe Pangs are greater

Than Nature gives.


What Starts and what Convulſions

Doſt thou bear! It muſt be Poiſon

But by whom?


Ha! Yet another Blaze; Am I not

Conſum’d? My Head is Ætna; all the Springs

Of Blood, Rowling Seas of Fire

Bear me to the Frozen North, lay me in a Bed

Of Snow, will ye not Emilius; No, ’tis impoſſible

The Maſs is all on Fire! Ay now the Fabrick

Falls, and I am Aſhes.


My Siſter’s Dagger, Death Lingers, Look up, Loviſa.


Alas Emilius! Think upon thy wretched Father!
Enter Bucarius, Dragging in Appamia, and Zelide.


Come forth thou Woman! Angel in View

In Action Fiend! And thou Black

Accomplice; whoſe Looks and Deeds are

Parallel Come Forth. My Breath

Will laſt, Spite of thy Bloody Hand,

To tell the Vice-roy, the Murders, thou haſt Caus’d


Bucarius Wounded! Which way ſhall I turn

My Bloodſhot Eyes? Appamia!


Curſes inſtead of Pity: Firſt upon her, and then on me




I am Indeed a Villain. Love, which ſooner or later

Ruins all Mankind; was my Deſtruction

But, Oh! I find, I cannot end my Story

Appamia’s Love ſet me on to Miſchief, and when

I claim’dclaim’d the promiſe, ſhe had made

(For my Reward) Her perſon, and her

Wealth; She anſwered with a Blow

By a Poyſon’d Dagger given Sieze

Her, and that Devil Moor They will finiſh

What I cannot Oh!



How, Madam! Guards put that

Infidel upon the Wrack immediately.


I Offer up my Limbs; practiſe your Torments

Yet not all the Agonies, Spain, or hell can

Invent ſhall force Confeſſion from me,

That I2r 59

That will Injure my Lov’d Miſtress!


Oh thou Strik’ſt me deeper, than my Conſcience;

’Twas my Command forc’d the unhappy Wretch;

Save her from the Wrack; And I will own the fatal TurthTruth


Appamia! Is’t poſſible―Is this Lovely

Creature by thee Deſtroy’d?


No; by Emilius


I! did I? Falſer than Malice in the Mouth

Of Envy! Invention blacker than Hell Creates!


the Cordial (Fool!) ’tis true, it was by me

Prepar’d, but you convey’d it to the Charmers Lips.


Hell and Deſpair! What cou’d provoke

Thee? How have I been Deceiv’d!


Dull, and Inſenſible had I not Eyes,

As well as thy Loviſa? She ſaw and Lov’d

And ventur’d all—So wou’d I

My Flames were Fiercer far than hers.

Which diſappointed, turn’d to black Revenge,

Accompliſh’d now, but Oh for thee, ungrateful

As thou wert, To thy Death I never did conſent;

Not that I care to be believ’d, for all things now are

Equal with me: But when that dead Villain brought

The Fatal News, That with Invennom’d Steel he had

Touch’d thee; I with the Poyſon’d Dagger, which he

Nam’d gave back the Blow, and there he lies at

Once the Proof of my Revenge, and Love.


How Terrible’s a Womans rage; but the Law

Muſt ſpeak thy Sentence: Secure ’em Guards.


The Law! but will that end my Miſery,—ha to

Late I begin to ſee the Fatal Ills my unhappy

Love has caus’d; my Zilide, who now ſhall Shield us

From the Terros of Deſpair? Let me for ever

Warn my Sex, and fright ’em from the thoughts of

Black Revenge, from being by Violent Paſſions

Sway’d. Murder! And am I the cauſe? Fall Mountains

On this Guilty Head, and let me think no more.


Emilius―Is there any Hopes?


Still there is warmth about her Heart

Her Eyes too Glimmer, like dying Tapers—

Oh my Loviſa! My Love has been thy Bane.

Lov. I2v 60


I grow Cool Emilius, thou mayſt receive me now,

And not be ſet on Fire—This I can bear—

Thus I cou’d have dy’d, and not Complain’d!


what pains haſt thou not born; what

Wracking Miſery; When the Pangs of

Death are thought refreſhing eaſe!

Hold off a little.—Thus let us meet,

Thus let me Claſp thee----Thus will

We Mount together.

Stabs himſelf.


O Fatal End of all my Hopes!


Farewel the blooming Expectation

Of a Proſperous Life—Alſo farewel

The wracking Cares, the Treacheries, the

Woes, that might have been my Fate!—

Your Pardon Sir, My Diſobedience, thus puniſh’d, Claims it.

How fares my Partner (even in Death)

One Kiſs—the laſt, that I ſhall ever take—Oh!



Stay, my Emilius; I am a Stranger

Here; and have been hardly us’d—No

Friend to Cloſe my Dying Eyes? He’s gone!

I follow—Lay me by the Man I have Lov’d;

With whom I wou’d have Liv’d, for whom I Die.



Appamia, My Foſter Daughter, but

I have done, Heav’ns Mercy overtake thy

Crimes: On Earth thou wilt meet with none.

Alonza, Thee I Subſtitute in full Authority,

Till farther Orders from the Court of Spain Arrive, and will

My ſelf, for ever from the World retire

Leaving this ſad Truth behind: That Parents

Shou’d not, beyond the hopes of Heaven

Their Children Prize.

Nor Indulg’d Children dare to Diſobey,

Leſt they are puniſh’t ſuch a diſmal way.