The unnatural brother a tragedy, as it was acted by His Majesty's servants at the theatre in Little Lincolns-Inn-Fields.

THE Vnnatural Brother : A TRAGEDY .

As it was Acted by His MAJESTY's Servants , AT THE THEATRE in Little Lincolns-Inn-Fields .

LONDON , Printed by J. Orme , for Richard Wilkin , at the Kings-Head in St. Paul's-Church-Yard . MDCXCVII .

ADVERTISEMENT .

There are lately published , Ibrahim the XIII . Emperor of the Turks , A Tragedy , and the Spanish Wives a Farce : Both Written by Mrs. Mary Pix .

The Younger Brother , Or Amorous Jilt : Written by Mrs. A. Behn . Printed and Sold by Richard Wellington .

THE PREFACE .

NOT many daies after the very cold reception which this Play met with on the Stage , as I was walking up and down my Chamber something discontented , tho not much mortified neither , at the unkindness of the Town , I happened to cast my eye on a Book which lay in a Window , and that proving to be the first Volume of Mr. Drydens Plays , I opened it , by meer chance , just on a Prologue of his which begins thus ,

Self love ( which never rightly understood ) Makes Poets still conclude their Plays are good : And malice in all Criticks runs so high , That for small Errors they whole Plays decry ; So that to see this Fondness , and that Spite , You 'd think that none but Mad-men Judge or Write .

I was both surprised and pleased with that Chance which had so thrown me on those Verses . For whereas before , I had for some time tortured my Brain , to find out those many imperfections which probably might have occasioned the ill success of this Play , I then began to lay aside some part of that care , and to think that the Malice and ill Nature of the Critick , in catching at every little slip , and improving of every inconsiderable fault , might perhaps have an equal hand in that misfortune , with the weakness or fondness of the Poet.

I had no other way to clear this point , and find out the truth of the matter , but to employ all the Friends and Acquaintance I had about the Town , to inquire into those objections which were generally made against this Play . They did it : and , as I have very good reason to believe , gave me a faithful account of all . And yet all , at last , came to no more than this : That the Play was too grave for the Age , That I had made choice of too few Persons , and that the Stage was never filled ; there seldom appearing above two at a time , and never above three , till the end and winding up of the whole .

These are the mighty faults that have so intirely Damned this Play : and yet if these must be thought faults now in our nicer Age , I am sure they were not thought such heretofore by the Antients ; for they generally made use of but few Persons , and never made it any part of their business to fill the Stage . Nay , we all know that Horace lays it down as a Rule .

— Nec quarta loqui persona laboret .

Nor were these thought faults by our more modern Criticks , about Fifteen or twenty years ago , when that excellent Play of the Orphan first appeared on the Stage . For that , tho liable to all the very same exceptions which hitherto have been made against this , yet was received with all the applause imaginable . I must confess , foreseeing part of what has since happened , and meerly to gratifie the Rabble , after I had finished this Play , I added a Comical part to it . Wherein , so there were but a smart kind of a hurry and confusion , with a Song or two at the end

— His nam plebecula gaudet .

I thought it would have passed well enough . But the Comedy being altogether independent from the Tragedy , and the whole appearing something too long the first time it was acted , I easily consented to have it all left out , and so threw my self wholly on the Men of sense for my Judges .

Verum Equitis quoque jam migravit ab aure voluptas Omnis , ad incertos oculos & gaudia vana .

For , to my cost , I find that even our men of Sense , have been so long entertained with the gaudy , glaring splendor of our Operas , that nothing now can please their eyes , but what dazels 'em : And that their ears have , of late , been so well belabour'd with Drums , Kettle-Drums , Trumpets , and Hautboys , that they are almost become deaf to Sense , or any thing else , convey'd to 'em in a less Noise , than those their darling-Consorts generally are . But no more of this — which may seem a little tart , and to savour strangely of the vanity of a discontented Poet , who will be sure to find out any other reason for the miscarriage of his Play , than that which was perhaps the only true one , I mean the badness of it .

But I had almost forgot to acquaint the Reader with one objection more , against this Play , than what I have yet mentioned . On the third day , there was a certain Lady in one of the Boxes , who thought she could not more effectually decry it , than by declaring aloud that it was nothing but an old Story taken out of Cassandra . And I readily grant it : yet can by no means allow that to be a fault . Mr. Dryden has said too much in the defence of such an innocent piece of theft , and extremely well justified the thing , both by his Arguments , and Practice . All I desire of that Lady , by way of amends , is , that if ever these Papers have the happiness to reach her hands , she would be pleased to renew her acquaintance with the story of Alcinoe in that Romance , and compare it with this Play : And then I dare be bold to affirm , she will not think me over-much beholding to it : But may perhaps be so charitable , as to entertain a more favourable opinion both of the Play , and of the Poet.

I have but one word more to the Reader , and then I shall leave him to the Play , either to read it , or let it alone , which he pleases : And that is , that he would not charge me with any Errors of the Press . The Bookseller in my absence , has undertaken the care of inspecting it , and therefore he only ought to be accountable for all such faults .

EDW. FILMER .

PROLOGUE . BLess'd were these happy daies , if ever any , When Poets flow'd with Wit , and you with Money . But now , both Wit and Money run so low , They 're at the poorest Ebb they e're can know , This Clipt , that dwindled into Farce and Show . As for our Coin , the Wisdom of the State , May stop our ruine and prevent our Fate ; What will not pass by Tale , may pass , by Weight . But who can our corrupted Wit restore , And make that Currant as it was before ? O! could we but with equal Balance sit , And by the nicest scruples weigh out Wit , How many pieces good , and fair to sight , Would yet be found by many Grains too light ? In this great dearth of Wit , our Poet here Presumes to treat you with his Country fare , Not that he thinks it better than your own , Or what you daily meet with in this Town : No , tho a Poet , he is not so vain ; You are to judge , he but to entertain . Freedom of Censure he to all allows , And with submission to your Judgment bows . He only hopes you will be pleas'd t' excuse , Small faults in a raw unexperienc'd Muse , Which trembling comes , full of sad frights and fears , And almost naked on the Stage appears , No Paint , no Patches , to adorn her brow , That is No thundering Consort , nor no glareing show ; Those pretty knacks , so much of late in use , To varnish , and set off a homely Muse . Good , easie sense , our Poet bad me say , Is all that he has aim'd at in this Play ; Well too , he thinks , if he that mark has hit , Since the best Sense , is ever the best Wit.

EPILOGUE . THE Poet , with the Soldier shares this fate , Courting your favour , he incurrs your hate . Tho one does for your daily pleasure write , The other , for your darling int'rest fight , Yet equally unkind , you both do slight The Man of War forsooth's too rough , unfit For civil Company ; The Man of Wit , A meer pretending Fop , a scribling Tool , Made up of Madman half , and half , of Fool. What is it then , that thus in ev'ry age , Draws one toth field , the other to the Stage ? No hope of Fame or Profit sure , for they In this too like , their harder Stars obey , Both drudge for little Honour , and less Pay . What e're it is provokes 'em , yet we see , Each fondly courts his unkind destiny ; For as the gen'rous Warriour , void of fear , Presses on danger still as it draws near , And tho he sees thousands before him fall , Yet briskly ventures on , and flings at all : The Poet so , tho daily on the Stage , He sees the dire effects o' th' Criticks rage , Yet fearless dares those doughty foes engage . And one's no sooner fairly down , but strait Vp perks another , careless of his fate . As for the Poet of this present night , Who spite of all discouragement dares write , He neither fears nor does the danger slight . If you resolve to kill , he says you may , He only begs a very short delay , Come all again , and maul him , — the third day :

The Persons represented , MEN. Beaufort Governour of Lyons . Grammount Nephew to the Governour . Dampierre Brother to Grammount . Montigny Friend to Grammount . WOMEN . Elvira Wife to Grammount . Leonora Sister to Grammount . Lysette Woman to Elivira .

A Page and other Attendants .

The Scene is a Castle about a League distance from Lyons in France .

ACT I. SCENE I. Enter Beaufort and Dampierre . Beau. NO more : thou hast wrought a secret from my Breast ▪ Which may in time prove fatal to us both . For now methinks I do begin to hate Thee , Dampierre , as the only Man on Earth Who has it in his power to check , and blast Those Glories , now in my declining years , Which I so justly purchast in my Youth ! Damp. The languishing sick Man , without reserve , Freely lays open his Infirmities , To his Physicians kill in hopes of Cure : The hearty Penitent , then only meets With true and real comfort , when he dares Unload his o'ercharged Conscience , and expose His nicest Scruples to the pious ●●re Of some grave Ghostly Father . Beauf. Ah Dampierre ! Could I with the good Penitent Confess , And at the same time quit the darling Sin ; Or with the afflicted Patient hope for ease Of all my pains , by telling my Disease , I then were truly happy ▪ But alass ! Elvira's not so fair , as she is good : The shining lustre : of her vertuous mind , By far surpasses that of her bright Eyes . Those Eyes , which yet dart beams resistless As the Sun in his full Noon tide Glory , Beams , which strike me blind to vertue ▪ honour , And indeed to all things else but love . Oh — Damp. Reflect not so severely on your faults , I do beseech you , Sir , but as a man , Allow some grains for humane frailty . Beauf. Have I , in my great Masters service spent Full Forty years , and won renown enough To glut the most ambitious Hero's hopes ? Have I pass'd o'er the boyling heats of youth With an untainted reputation ? And shall I now , now in my riper years , Stain all the glories of my former life ? No , Dampierre , no , it cannot , must not be . Damp. Do you in earnest love Elvira , Sir ? Beauf. Love her ! does the devout Recluse that has Renounced this world aspire to Heaven ? Does the Ambitious Hero covet Fame ? Or the old Miser doat on hoarded Gold ? Love her ! By Heaven , I ne'r lov'd glory Half so well , nor so much dreaded the success Of doubtful War , as now I do of Love . Fearless , I have a thousand times outbrav'd The greatest dangers , and outfac'd grim Death In the most ugly shape that War could shew it ; Yet now want courage to encounter Her fair Eyes , and like an arrant Coward , Tremble and quake at her approach for fear . Damp. For fear of what , Sir , of a Woman ? Elvira is no more , no more than a Meer Woman ; an imperfect piece of Man , Made only for his Pleasure . Beauf. Hah ! by Heaven She 's Natures Master piece , she 's all Divine , Fair as an Angel , Virtuous as a Saint . But why , alas ! do I so much as name Her hated Vertue : Would she were a Whore , A Common Prostitute , since she is Married : Or rather since she is Married to Grammount , O! let me wish her Dead , laid in the Grave , And hoarded up like some old misers Wealth , In the dark intralls of the happy Earth , Where none the mighty Treasure could enjoy , Since I cannot . Damp. Nay , now , Sir , I could chide . Wish not Elvira Dead , but think her still Amongst the living wonders of the Age , The fairest much of her bewitching Sex . Who , tho she may have charms enough to kill , Yet may too entertain some soft desires , To cure the wounds her fatal Beauty gives : And therefore , Sir , you ought at least to hope . Beauf. It is to innocent desires alone , That hope dares shew a comfortable end ; But mine are guilty all : How then can hope Pretend to flatter him , who were he blest In all the joys successful Love can give Must yet be wretched , miserable still , Torn with the pains of a too late remorse , Sharper than those of disappointed love . Damp. These , Sir , are odd phantastick notions Of a working brain , fitter for Schools Than for a Lovers care , whose Mistriss is his all . He who dares rifle the industrious Bee , Snatches the Honey careless of the Sting : And he who briskly plucks the blushing Rose , Laughs at those Thorns that would revenge the Rape . Beauf. How powerful do thy arguments appear , To a mind wholly prepossessed with love ! Thou art a Master , sure , in that soft art , And may'st assist me : I alas ! am rough , Grown old in Camps , my Tongue unapt for talk ; And unaccustom'd to those softer terms , Which Charm that fair , that dear believing Sex . Damp. Let me but know what you would have me do , And think it done : think your self happy , Sir , If in my power it be to make you so . Beauf. Thou then shalt break the Ice , prepare the way . Thou hast a tongue , nimble and fluent As the well feed Lawyers , soft and smooth As the old crafty Courtiers , who denies Your sute , yet would perswade you he is still Your friend . Speak , wilt thou do it ? Damp. Sir , I will . Beauf. But art thou sure thou wilt ? Damp. Most certain , Sir . Beauf. Hast thou consider'd well ? Damp. Yes , I have . Beauf. Perhaps already thou forget'st Who 't is I love . Damp. No , it is Elvira , is it not ? Beauf. It is indeed Elvira , but then sure There should be more of that Dear Name than one ▪ Hah ! What sayst thou ? Damp. Not that I know of , Sir , 'T is Grammount's Wife I mean . Beauf. Thou should'st have said Thy Brothers , thy Brothers ▪ Wife , on whom Thy Uncle , the unhappy Beanfort doats . Damp. I should indeed , nor did I wave that word , For any such great kindness it imports , As might o'erthrow the resolution I have made to serve you , Sir : no , were she mine , This fair Elvira mine , as she is now Grammont's ; I 'd not retract one syllable ▪ Of what I have said , but freely sacrifice ▪ My Life , my Honour , all in short , that 's dear To your repose . Beauf. Come , come to my Arms then , Let me embrace and hug thee , Dampierre . By Heaven thou art — a most illustrious Villain , a rank Pander . Oh Grammount How deeply would thy Brothers baseness wound Thy generous Soul , could'st thou but guess His foul intent . But thou art good , so true To Virtue and to Honour , thou can'st ne'er Think on a crime so Black , as this base wretch Dares act ; this miserable wretch , who at One fatal blow , would strike a Dagger To his Brothers Heart , damn both himself and me ▪ And plunge us all into a horrid gulf Of everlasting misery . Damp. If my too forward zeal be an offence , Punish my giddy rashness as you please : Yet do it , Sir , something a gentler way . Charge me not with such black and horrid crimes , As Heaven knows my very Soul detests . Or rathertake my hated Life , see here , My naked breast ready to meet the blow , My Tongue prepar'd to bless the hand that strikes . Beauf. I scorn to stain my Sword with such base blood , Live , and repent thy rashness if thou can'st , If not , resolve never to see my face agen . Ex. Beauf. Damp. Not see your face agen , but on the terms Of penitence , my noble Uncle . Yes , Yes , but I shall , or I am much deceived . This qualm of Conscience , is in him no more , Than a meer aguish fit ; the cold one gone , A hot one then will certainly succeed . O all you black and dismal fiends of Hell , Who take delight in mischiefs baneful sport , Feed still , and blow up his incestuous flame To a resistless highth ; then from his passion , Ill conceal'd , as from a flowing spring Let daily doubts , fears , jealousies , heart burnings And eternal jarrs , arise within these walls : Let Beaufort hate Grammount , Grammount Elvira , And Elvira both , whilst Dampierre hates 'em all , And justly too . I was the first ▪ pretender to Elvira , But by the faithless Grammount under-min'd , All my best hopes soon vanisht into air , And I beheld her circled in his Arms. Nor durst I then think of revenge on him That did the wrong , he was but too secure , Supported by a partial Uncle's power , And by Elvira's Friends . But now I know That Beaufort doats on her , from this dear day I date my hopes of a severe revenge . But see , Grammount appears in close discourse With his inseparable friend Montigny : My mind at present's strangely ruffled , Therefore I 'll withdraw , ere they perceive me . Ex. Damp. Enter Grammount and Montigny . Gram. Blest in the softest Passion of my Soul , Possessing , in my dear Elvira , all The world calls Vertuous , or my eyes think fair ; How can I , friend , without a blush complain , Or murmur midst such vast , such charming joys , As tasted once , would make an Anchoret Forget his way to Heaven , and think to find It here below . Mont. Forbear , my dearest friend , Take heed , should'st thou be rash enough to pine , Whilest with a liberal hand , kind Heaven Pours all it 's choicest blessings on thy Head , Such black ingratitude , no doubt , would be Severely punisht by some signal judgment From above . Gram. Unkind , cruel Montigny , Thou know'st , at each sad thought of losing thee , Tho circled in my dear Elvira's Arms , I feel such strange distructing pangs of grief , As nought but the most perfect friendship Can excuse ; so vast , so sensible a pain , As wounds my very Soul , and damps and soures The sweetest joys of a possessing Lover . Mont. Thou best of Men , and dearest too of Friends , Let me embrace , and hug , and press thee thus , Near to that heart which owns no other bands , But those of everlasting friendship for The generous Grammount : Heaven knows with what Regret I leave thee , Friend ; yet must we part . Gram. O say not so , each word 's a mortal wound , Each syllable a Dagger to my heart . Rather recall the hasty sentence , and Repenting thy unkindness , give me Life , And what I value more , my Friend . Mont. O my Grammount , forbear ; thy kindness else Will be the ruin of thy friend ; do not , Oh do not force me to repeat , What equally afflicts my Soul as thine , It must be so . Gram. It must not , by all that 's good , Thou art no more that Friend I took thee for , If thou canst thus forsake me , leave me thus , And not give one poor shadow of a reason For so severe a separation . Mont. Honor , my Friend , 't is honour calls me hence : Honour , that Idol to which all must bow . Gram. Honour ! whither can Honour call thee friend , That Grammount would not go to share the Prize ? Mont. Whilest I lie here , supinely surfeiting On all the joys of soft bewitching ease ; My aged Sire , laden with years and fame , Plays the young man , and makes the Spaniards feel The smart of Wounds , I only should have given . Thither I go , thither I fly , my Friend , To court fair Honour in the midst of Blood , Horror and dire Confusion . Gram. Those Frontier bickerings call not for thee , Montigny , there 's little honor to be gain'd : But if thou art resolv'd to go , refuse not Th' assistance of my Sword , oh let me share The Toyl , and Glory , with my dearest Friend . Mont. Thou must no more think on the Wars , Grammount , But from the Genial bed , reaping the sweet Reward of all thy glorious labours past , Raise up a race of Hero's , whose bright fame , For early vertues , may soon equal thine . Gram. Since honours strictest Laws must yield to Love , Let Beauty then prevail , tho friendship cannot . I have a Sister , by the world thought fair , Virtuous and young she is : her Fortune 's such As may at least equal the largest hopes Of the most Noble Youths our Age can shew : If thou canst learn to Love my Friend , she 's thine Mont. How Prodigal ! how Lavish my Gram. Thy Friendship makes thee , with a careless hand Thou scatter'st Treasures shou'd be the Reward Of a vast merit only : or the price Of many great and glorious Services . Gram. Nay now thou triflest — Mont. By Heaven I do not : Tho yet my heart a stranger be to Love , Yet 't is with admiration I behold The rare perfections of that beauteous Maid , But I must study to deserve her , friend . Happy , if after all the noblest toiles I may aspire to such a recompenc● , And with thy leave , my generous Grammount , Lay all the Trophies of successfull War At the fair Charming Leonora's Feet . Gram. Away preach to rough Seamen in a Storm , Or whisper to the boisterous Winds when in Their lowdest fury , and they shall sooner Hearken to thy tale than I : But see , My dear Elvira coming to my aid , And Leonora too ; thou canst not sure Hope to maintain thy ground against us all . Enter Elvira and Leonora . Elv. From those dark Clouds which in thy Face appear , My boading heart foretells a rising Storm Of grief within thy Breast , speak , my Grammount , what ruder cares , to thy Elvira yet Unknown , sit heavy on thy drooping Soul ? Gram. Thou best of Women , pard'n the guilty cause Of this disorder in my troubled mind . Elv. Oh name not pardon , but quickly let me share , And bear an equal part of all thy care . Gram. Hast thou not seen some men , extremely Rich , Tell me Elvira , 'mongst their dearest store Of Gold , and Silver , Jewels , and other things Of highest value , lock securely up Some pretty , favourite toy : Who when returning to review their wealth , And missing only that , yet could not bear The petty loss , tho all the rest were safe ? The case , my dear Elvira , is my own , Thou art the dearest treasure of my Soul , Thou art — Elv. Forbear , Grammount , I guess the rest , Tho not so much from what thou now hast said , As from Montigny's silence , and thy grief . Each seems a like concern'd , each dreads the loss Of a dear friend ; yet , you Montigny , will , Nay must be gone . Gram. Must , oh no , alass ! He will be gone , uncall'd , unask'd , unsent for , He will forsake his friend . Oh Elvira , Oh Leonora , yet try all you can , Your softest Arts , to move this cruel Man . Elv. What may be done let us resolve to do , I for a Husband plead , a Brother you . Leon. Sure friendships cause , argued before a friend , Cannot but meet with a successfull end . Mont. Such powerful advocates who can withstand ? Honour ! thou strange fantastick airy thing , Thou losing bargain to the bravest Souls , Thou easie purchase , costly to maintain , Thou cloke to bold ambition's restless hopes ; No more , to thy capricious humours will I blindly bow , nor court thee as a slave . The present time to friendship I will give , And what that spares , shall be intirely thine ; Still all that man in reason ought , I 'll do To satisfie my Friend and Honour too . Elv. See my Grammount , the cruel man repents , Friendship has wrought its much desir'd effect , And fixt the Rover here . Leon. What would you more ? He yields and gives you the glory of the day ; Mont. Half vanquisht by my friend , I durst not●st and The shock of so much Beauty as you brought To Storm the Fort : Honour it self durst not Pretend to hold it out against such odds . Can you , my Friend , pardon a proud Rebell Now imploring Grace ? Gram. Talk not of Pardon , my Friend , Give me thy Hand , Elvira , Montigny thine . Thus guarded , I dare challenge all the World , To show but one Man more , as happy , as My self . Methinks mankind should envy me , Thus blest in a lasting full fruition Of all those glorious Charms , the sweetest love , Or truest , dearest friendship can afford . Henceforth , be every day , within these Walls , By all , kept as a solemn Festival , Sacred to Love and Friendship : and to me , May both , as now , ever propitious be . The End of the First ACT.

ACT II. SCENE I. Enter Dampierre pulling in Lysette . Damp NAy prethee why so refractory ? Lyset . I am in haste , or if I were not , What business pray can you have with me ? You , who have scarce vouchsafed One look this way , this long , long Day or two . Damp. Business of importance Child , And such as in the end might prove To thy advantage if discreetly manag'd . But — Lyset . But what , nay pray out with it . Damp. Why , thou art a very foolish ignorant Young Wench , that ever stand'st in thy Own light . Lyset . Your wisdom 's much mistaken in my Character , I dare aslure you Sir , For I am neither so silly , nor so igonrant , I thank my kinder Stars , but that I very Well understand the post I am in , with all The by-advantages , that may be made by One of my profession that has wit . Damp. Wit ! prethee of what use is Wit in your Commonwealth , hah ! Lyset Oh , Sir , believe me , that Waiting-woman That wants it , is the greatest slave in Nature . Whereas we that have it , rather Command than serve , and in a very little Time become real Mistresses , whilst They , poor Ladies , only enjoy the empty , Useless Title . Damp. Good ! Lyset . For by our witty , sly , and subtle insinuations , We at length become so absolutely necessary to 'em , That they live not but in us ; They see with our Eyes , here with our ears , And judge not of any thing but by our wise Directions . Damp. Admirable ! Lyset . So that if love once fires their tender Hearts , 'T is we that either fan the growing flames , Or else suppress them quite . Wisely , we manage their inclinations To our best advantage : and suffer 'em to love , But when , and where , as little , or as much , As we think fit . Damp. Incomparable ! Lyset . In short , Sir , It is by our all powerful interest , That the ugly , and the awkwerd fool , if liberal , Succeeds in his Amours : Whilst the gay , Well bred , handsom wit , too oft miscarries By his unseasonable thrift . 'T is we indeed , do all , gain us , and they are yours ; Proportion but your gifts , to your desires , And you can never fail : Since to confess The very truth , 't is we that set to sale , Their favours , and good graces of all sorts And sizes , even from a simple , single smile , To full fruition , Sir . Damp Hold , hold , enough : the world cannot produce Thy equal , here , here 's Gold for thee . Lyset . For me , Sir , and why , I pray ? Damp. No matter Child , here 's yet more take it , And deserve it , Girl . Lyset . Let me but know which way , And much may be done . Damp. Why , watch Elvira narrowly , let not One look , one smile escape thy diligence , Never be from her , but be a constant Spy On all her actions . Lyset . I le do 't : And yet , I doubt , I shall but lose My labour , and you your mony , At least , if you expect any thing Extraordinary from my observations . Damp. No matter , I 'le venter my money . Leyst . And I my pains : tho I am confident You will be strangely disappointed , When from an exact Diary of all her Actions , you will only find , that of Sixteen long hours , she dayly spends , At least twelve in Prayer , or fulsom Dalliance with her onw lawful Husband . And so I am your Humble Servant , Sir . Ex Lyset . Damp. Go on , and prosper Girl : For if I catch Elvira tripping , Or can but find the least appearance of a slip , I 'le quickly make a Mountain of a Molehill . Then to Grammount I 'le go , and tell him all , Yet seem to leave much more behind untold : So make him beg to know , what known shall pinch And gall him to the quick . They love too well For Man and Wife , and what 's yet worse , So good an understanding between them , Sutes not with mine , nor with my Uncles purposes . But he retuns not , as I thought he would , And to find out the reason , much perplexes me . But see , where he comes , all melancholy , Sad and pensive , almost lost in his own Wild distracting thoughts . The Devil now works Hard , and I 'le not be his hindrance : But wait , Then take my time to lend a helping hand , In this our common Business . He retires to a corner of the Stage . Enter Beaufort . Beauf. How poor , And how contemptible a thing is man , Made but more wretched , by those very same Distinctive faculties of the Soul , Which yet seem to sooth , and flatter him , With an imaginary Excellence , Above the rest of the Creation . Damp. Good ! Beauf. Reason , what art thou , but the very source , And spring , from whence flow all our miseries ? Thou art that glimm'ring light , by which alone , We can discern those crimes , which otherwise , We n'er had understood ; at least , as such . And so had known no guilt . Damp. Better and better ! Beauf. Our phlegmatick dull Priests , have all mistook Their errand sure , and grosly hitherto Imposed upon the credulous world : Whilst with an erring Zeal , they 've preach'd down Lust , Yet given a Pass , to more pernicious Love . For Lust is , at the worst , but a brisk , Generous heat , and natural ferment Of the blood , lay'd by the next dear Child Of joy , that dares contribute to the cure . But when the Devil tempts us to love one , And only one : not all the Sex beside , Can quench the hellish flame ; But be she Mother , Daughter , Aunt , or Niece , How near soever tyed to us by Blood , It matters not : She , she alone can cure , That gave the fatal wound . Damp ▪ He 's fast enough , I am sure , now I 'le bolt . If I dare venture to approach you , Sir , It is with the same awful reverence , As penitent sinners do th' offended Gods : With the same humble hopes too , that at length Your mercy , o'r your justice , may prevail ; Pard'ning those crimes I have with tears bewayl'd , And would have expiated with my blood , Would you have suffer'd it . Beauf. Ha! Dampierre , And in this humble posture too , nay then , No change , to me , can ever appear strange : Since in so very , very , small a time , Thou art turn'd Saint , and I a Devil . Damp. Far be it , Sir , from me to assume The Glorious title of a Saint , and yet , A very little time , may usher in Strange alterations . Believe mine real then , And make your vertue , as remarkable In pard'ning , as in censuring , a crime Committed but in thought , and hatched there Only by too warm a zeal , for the great Beauforts Service . Beauf. Curse on thy ill tim'd change , Which only comes , unseasonably now , To upbraid my weakness . Pard'n thee ! Yes , withall my heart I pard'n thee , But on this one condition let it be , That thou n'er talk to me of vertue more . Damp. Alas , what mean you , Sir ? Beauf. Be wicked still ; Be vitious , as thou ever wert , Go boldly on , and stop at nothing . Thy wanton fancy , represents as pleasing To thy senses , but gratifie'em all , Even to a loath'd satiety . Then come , and waving all uneasie qualms , Teach by experience the vast pleasure Of unbounded vice : gladly I 'le hear thee , And become thy wanton Proselyte , my great , My glorious Master . Damp. Heaven protect you , Sir , Now you talk strangely ; perhaps you doubt me , And this way only hope to learn the truth : For you , I know , are eminently good And vertuous . Beauf. Hah ! that lie will damm thee Past all hopes of mercy : I am nor good , Nor vertuous , but , by much , more wicked , Than an honest heart dares think . I rage , I burn in an Unlawful , and Incestuous flame : Alas ! there 's a perpetual tumult In my distracted mind , nor can I fix One wandering thought , but what still leads me To the very brink of Hell . Oh Elvira — Damp. Forget her , Sir , I once dearly lov'd her , Yet when I found she could prefer , My Brother 's tardy passion before mine , I quickly shook the lazy off , and With an indiffernt eye , could safely gaze On all those Beauties I before adored . Beauf. Forget her ! no , too easily alas ! I can forget that she is Grammount's Wife , Or Beaufort's Niece , but that she is fair , That she is charming , above all others Of her Beauteous Sex , that , that , I never Can forget . Damp. If you must think on her , Think then , at the same time , on her too rigid Vertue , that eternal bar to all your Guilty hopes . Beauf. There is no bar to impetuous Love , At least , Vertue I 'am sure is but a weak one . But why do I vainly talk of Vertue ? I am convinced , there 's no such thing on Earth . No , all 's but pretence , all 's meer Hypocrisie . Look Dampierre , round this vast Machine the World , 'T is but a larger Theater , on which Each skilful Actor , plays that part alone , Which , for his profit , he can manage best . Come then unmask : thou seest my naked heart , To all the world beside , be the reformed , The good , the pious Dampierre , but to me , Be what thou ever wert . Damp. Hah ! what 's that , Sir ? Beauf. Nay perhaps I may not find a name for 't , That may please you : But to be plain , and short , Help me to the enjoyment of Elvira , And I 'll disclaim Grammount , I 'll cut off all His fairer hopes , to make a way for thee , My darling , to the possession of my Envied Wealth . Damp. Misled , by a too hasty Zeal , I made an offer once , not all your wealth , Nor even that of the whole world , Can e're prevail with me to make again That kindness then was slighted , scorn'd , repai'd With cruel injuries , and a boisterous Storm of black reproaches . Beauf. Upbraid me not With what is past . Damp. By what is past , I but Too plainly see , the kind return my best Endeavours , for your service , in that kind , Are sure to meet with . Beauf. By various and insulting Passions agitated , I felt unheard of torments in my mind , My very Soul was , as it were , stretched on The Rack , and all that storm , was nought but the Strong Convulsions of a dying Vertue . Damp. Heaven forbid , the generous Beaufort So much renowned for solid Vertue , should In a Storm of Passion , yet make shipwreck Of it all : No , to the Wars , Sir , there — Beauf. Talk not to me of War , too long already I have toyl'd i' th' barren Fields of Mars , Wasted my Youth and Vigor in rough Camps , And bloody broils : Deaf to the Virgins Plaints , The Widows Curses , or the Orphans Cries , For Lovers , Husbands , Parents , Butcher'd all In hateful War . In short , I loath that Trade Of cutting throats , and am resolv'd henceforth To Love , and that Elvira too . Damp. Oh , Sir , think what the censorious world will say . Beauf. E'en let the world say what it will : I care not , she , I 'm sure , is a meer Stranger to my blood . Come then , be once more Kind , I know thou lov'st me , Dampierre , I know thou do'st . Dam. You may be well assured I do . Beauf. O let me embrace , and hold thee in these Arms , Till thou hast granted all I can desire . Damp. Had you before been half thus kind ? Beauf. It is not now too late . Damp. Fool that I am , to stand here , only to Be tempted to my Ruin . Oh! why Do I not rather fly , not from you only , But , for your sake , from all Mankind ? Beauf. Nay , now thou art too cruel : Come , thou must , Thou shalt , thou wilt . Damp. Alas ! What would you have me do ? Beauf. Go to Elvira . Damp. Well , for once I will . Beauf. Tell her — by Heav'n I know not what — tell her — Yes — if she delights in martial Stories , Tell her the many glorious Deeds I 've done In War , the bloody Battles I have won , The Towns I have taken : Tell her , in short , All that may make her hearken to the Name Of Beaufort with Delight . Then , in a gentle Sigh , tell her I die For Love , and if , after all that , thou darest Proceed yet further , tell her at last It is for her I die . Damp. Something like this , I am resolved to do , But cannot yet tell what . I ▪ ll instantly Go to her , and with my utmost Cunning Try to dive to the very bottom Of her Heart : Where if I find yet any Room for a new Passion , you may be well Assured , that to your best Advantage , I will turn the Weakness of her yielding Mind . Beauf. Go , fly : Oh may we both successful prove , Thou in thy subtle Arts , and I in love . The End of the Second Act.

ACT III. SCENE I. A Forest . Leonora alone . Leon. WHilst all rejoyce , Montigny , at thy stay , only waste in Tears the time away : Uncertain , what to hope , or what to fear , I wish thee gone , yet fain would keep thee here . All ●ays I try , to chase thee from my mind , All Arts I use , yet can no Comfort find : For if , t'elude the Torments I endure , My Hopes from Absence seem t● expect a Cure ; Even those Hopes ridiculous appear , Since how can he be absent who 's lodg'd here ? Laying her Hand on her Heart . A welcom , yet a fatal Guest to me , Whilst I the Prisoner am , and he is free . What then , poor Leonora , wilt thou do , Thou lovest alas ! but art forbid to woo , That is Man's dear prerogative alone , Thou must in secret sigh , in secret moan : And taught by stricter Rules of Modesty , What most thou lov'st thou must pretend to flie . Thus strangely wretched , surely there can be , For all thy Woes , but one sad Remedy : Die then , yet in thy Death , so lucky prove , That all the World may know , thou diedst for love . Each Poet then , thy Passion will rehearse , Sing thy sad Fate in everlasting Verse , And every Lover strew thy passing Herse . Enter Elvira and Lysette . Lyf . See Madam , where she is . Elv. Retire a little . Ex. Lysette Leon. Oh Heavens ! I am surpriz'd . Elv. What ? in this dismal solitary Place Alone , and all in Tears , my Dear ? Leon. Those treacherous Teras will be my Ruine . Aside . Elv. Nay , seek not to hide 'em from your dearest Friend , that would be too unkind : Oh! rather , Let me know the unhappy Cause of this Disorder . Leon. I will , but you shall pass your Word then , Not to laugh at me . Elv. My dearest Child , I do , Leon. Nay , but I am confident you will laugh , Since I my self indeed , can scarce forbear , When I reflect on it . Elv. I will not , Nay , I cannot laugh at what moves thee to weep . Thy Tears , my Dear , would extort Pity From an Enemy , much more from one that loves thee . Leon. This your unmerited Kindness , Madam , makes me yet more ashamed than ever , To betray my Folly ▪ For it was nothing more , Believe me , than a meer childish Passion . Elv. Whate'er it was , imparting it to me , You will oblige me much . Leon. Were it a Secret , Or of the least Importance , I would ne'er Try to conceal it from you : Be so kind , Dear Madam , as to impute my Folly To my tender Years . Elv. Ah Leonora ! 'T is not your Folly , but your Cunning now , That I have reason to complain of . Leon. Were I as capable of Cunning , Madam , As you believe I am , yet certainly I would not use it to impose on you , To whom I stand so many ways engag'd . Elv. I know you ought not , yet I 'm sure you do . Leon. Suspect it not , indeed you wrong me much . Elv. No , 't is you that wrong your self , wrong me , And all our mutual Vows of Friendship too . For know , that with no small concern of late , I have observ ▪ d your gayer Humour fade , And change into a sad , dull and deadly Melancholy : With Grief I have beheld You fly all sorts of pleasing Company , Only to court Retirement in some Grove . This made me set Lysette to watch your Steps , By whom , just now inform'd , That you were gone This way alone , I quickly follow'd you , Tho' not without some Apprehensions , From the dismal Wildness of this uncouth place , Altho' I knew Montigny and Grammount , Were here before , seeking Diversion ▪ In these o'ergrown Woods . Come then confess , What brought you to this unfrequented place ? Leon. Ah , what would you have me do ? Elv. Tell me the Truth , For should you still endeavour to conceal it , The swelling Secret would , in time , Grow too unruly for your tender Breast , And force its way , at last , with much more Noise , And eager Violence , than would be fit For so much Innocence to own . Leon. I yield : Your kind and tender importunity , At length has conquer'd all my Fears . Share then that fatal secret which , of late , Has robbed me of my Rest , of all my Peace . Yet spare , oh spare my Tongue , th' ungrateful Task , Of naming what I still must blush to own : But let these Tears convey it to your Breast , Whilst on my tender Knees I thus implore Your Pity , and your Pardon . Elv. Rise , rise , my Dear , Take this Kiss , and with it too my pardon , My Pity , and my faithful promise , To assist thee in thy Love : For Love it is , If I must guess , that has possest thy Soul . If so , my Dear , you must be plainer yet , And name the happy object of your Vows Leon. Ah Madam , I doubt I have already Said too much , for see , my Brother coming , Oh give me Leave to hide my Grief from him , And all the World but you . Enter Dampierre . Leonora runs out , and Elvira offering to follow her , is staid by Dampierre . Damp. Nay , Madam , You must excuse my Rudeness , I but seize The next at Hand , to know by what strange fate Dampierre of late is grown so terrible , As to oblige you with such eager haste , To fly him . Elv. You cannot think your Sister should avoid you , Nor ought you to believe I would . Damp. But , Madam , may I not believe my Eyes ? Elv. You may , for they can only tell you , That Leonora fled , and that I followed , And all perhaps without one Thought of you . But you of late are strangely alter'd sure , You would not else so easily suspect Your Friends of so much incivility ; Believe me 't is a Fault scarce pard'nable . Damp. Since my too light Suspicion seems a Crime , With all Submission I intreat your Pardon : Alas ! I am no more the Man I was — Elv. Why , what strange Misfortune has befallen you ? Damp. So great a one i' th' person of my Friend , As Heaven , in all its Anger , scarcely could . Have sent a greater . Ah! had those fair Eyes , Madam , beheld what these have lately seen , How much would they have lost , by this time Of their wonted lustre : at least , if sorrow , Sighs , or frequent tears , could have diminisht it . Elv. You think me very tender hearted sure , Or else have some strange story to relate , Extremely moving . Damp. Believe me , Madam , It is a tale would move the hardest heart To some compassion : Think then , you see A man , compleatly blest above all others , In the richest gifts of Nature , and of Fortune ; a Man , renown'd abroad for Arms , And no less famed at home for goodness , And for Virtue . Elv. You have said enough , To let me know he is your Friend , who e're he be : But sure a Man of his high Character , Can never prove unfortunate enough To want our Pity . Damp. Yet , Heaven knows , much more Unfortunate he is , than either good , Or great : In short , he Loves , Loves where he scarce Dares ever hope to be belov'd again ; So , sadly lingers out a hated Life , In all the torments of a deep despair . Elv. Believe me , 't is pity he should so misplace , His love on one , who sure deserves it not . Damp. I 'll not pretend to rate her mighty worth , But only tell you she is wondrous fair , Fair as the fairest of her charming Sex ; Fair as Elvira , as hard hearted too ; And what 's yet worst of all , like her , she is Married to another . Elv. How ! his passion Then is criminal , and should be hopeless . Damp. 'T is criminal indeed , and yet the crime , Renders it but the more conspicuous ; Or if you will give me leave to say so , Meritorious ; dear Devil tempt me not . Aside . Elv. I understand you not , or if I did , I am not now at leisure to dispute The merits of a guilty passion : But come , let us move homewards pray , And leave the rest to a more fitting time . Damp. No time more fitting ; nor no place more free Than this . Elv. But I am weary , and want rest . Damp Here you may have it , if you please , I beg you would hear me . Elv. I cannot now . Damp. Say rather that you will not . Elv. That would be rude . Damp. And therefore only will not hear , because It is th' unlucky Dampierre that entreats . Just Gods ! must I be still neglected , Still despised , and whether for my self I plead , Or for another , still cut short ? no , stay , And tho you 'll hear no more of his sad tale , Be pleas'd at least to lend an ear to mine . Elv. What mean you , Dampierre ? Damp. Since my friends passion is condemn'd , oh ! give Me Leave to entertain you with another ; Which tho not wholly innocent , perhaps , Yet owing all it has of guilt in it , To you alone , by you at least , should be Esteem'd as so . Elv. You grow mysterious now , Your looks are wild , and you much discompos'd . Damp. Behold me well : And in these troubled looks Read the disorder of my Soul ; springing From Love , opposed by hatred and more sweet Revenge . Do you not tremble , Madam ? Elv. Why should I tremble ? If Heaven , as I believe , protects The Innocent , I am secure enough . Damp. You are indeed , for love at length has got The day ; that little God , tho dispossest Some time by my too just resentment , Is now return'd Victorious to his Throne , And firmly reinstated in the Empire Of my heart . Elv. I do begin to understand you now : But Dampierre , have a care , desist in time , All yet is well : but if you dare proceed , Grammount shall surely know your good design . Damp. Tush : Meer bugbear words to scare young sinners with ; You would fain make me angry , But I at present want the leisure : A sofer , nobler passion rules my Soul . I am all Love , all Fire , my wanton blood Runs high , ready to force a passage Through my distended veins . This gloomy place , invites us too to Love , Whose kinder shades , not only will conceal Our amorous Thefts , but even forbidding Entrance to the Sun , Will shroud us in an artificial night : That all things may be done with greater decency . Come then , Offers to kiss her hand . Take this warm earnest of a greater Bliss , And think , with how much pleasure to your self , You may in one poor fleeting minutes time , Even o'erpay me for an age of sufferings . Elv. Monster of a Man , Villain unhand me , Let me quickly go , or I will fill these Woods With cries , such moving cries , as shall awake , And from their dismal hollow caverns draw , Each nobler Beast of prey to be a Guard To me , to thee base wretch , a shame and terrour . Damp. Come , come you need not use these common arts , These faint denials , little strugling fits May serve indeed as whets , to a weak And puleing appetite : But mine is sharp , wound To the utmost pitch , keen as the greedy Hawks , That 's ready just to seize his long'd for prey . Elv. Lysette , Lysette : Rash , heedless Girl , oh whither art thou fled ? And thou , my dear Grammount , where art thou Now ? the distress'd Elvira wants thy help . Damp. Call louder yet , he answers not , perhaps He may not now so much as think of you : At least you see he is not here to help you , Therefore be wise , and what you cannot Hope to avoid , submit to patiently . Elv. Villain thou liest , he 's in these very Woods . Tremble , base wretch , at the bare thoughts Of his approach ; for tho he be not yet Within the reach of my too feeble voice , I doubt not but just Heaven will send him , Either to rescue , or revenge his dear Elvira : And either way , to thy Confusion Monster . Damp. Hah ! say you so , what must be done then , Must be quickly done : and when 't is done , I 'll trust thee for betraying thy own shame Scarce forty paces hence , there is a gloomy Place so private , as if kind nature had Contrived it only for our use : There at Thy beauteous shrine , I ll offer up my best Devotions ; and fill thee with such melting Joys , as first shall tempt thee to forgive , Then make thee beg me to renew the Offence . Nay hang not back , for if you do , by Heaven I 'll drag you thither . Offers to force her . Elv. Oh all you juster Powers above , send some relief : or give me Strength enough to punish the base Villain . Help , help , for Heaven's sake help . Damp. Hah ! what envious Devil has sent him ? Oh , Madam , dry up those precious Tears , Forbear those Cries , whilst Dampierre lives You 're safe enough . He discovers Montigny at a distance . Enter Montigny . Mont. Whence came those dismal Cries ? Hah ; was it you , Madam , that so loudly Call'd for help , speak , Madam , speak I beg you , What means this strange disorder in your looks , Or do thou Dampierre , I conjure thee , tell me What was the matter ? Damp. I know not I , She surely best can tell what caus'd her fear : Fortune , and her loud cries , directed me , Montigny , as they have brought you hither . Elv. Generous Montigny , waste not the time In fruitless questions , but rather If you have any friendship for Grammount , Help , O quickly help me hence , Whilst I have yet some little strength Remaining . Damp. If Dampierre , Madam , May in any thing be serviceable , Pray be so free as to command him too . Elv. Monster , avoid my sight . Damp. Hear you that , Montigny , Look to her well , for much I fear she 's craz'd . Elv. Oh horrid impudence ! but come , let us , Montigny , fly this fatal place : And yet my trembling joynts answer my haste But ill . Mont. Fear nothing , Madam , but accept this hard For your support . Ex. Mont. and Elv. Damp. Impudence assist me now , Or else this one reverse of Fortune Ruins all , renders abortive all the Hopeful projects of my labouring brain , And leaves me naked to the mercy Of offended justice . Curse on my rebellious Blood , Curse on that flatt'ring opportunity , Which smiled on , yet betray'd , my dearest hopes . Enter Grammount . Gram. Well met Brother , saw you Montigny ? I lost him strangely . Dam. Yes , just now I saw him . Gram. Where , which way is he gone ? Dam. Homewards I think , But make not too much haste to overtake Him , least you should chance to come Before you are welcome . Gram. What mean you , Dampierre ? Damp. I mean , that he 's already in good Company , And would not willingly admit of more . Gram. I fear it not , my friend to me is ever Welcome , and by my self I judge of him . Damp. You may , and yet may be mistaken too : There are some certain times and seasons , When even the very best of friends Are but importunate . Gram. That very minute , My friend should think me so , I should think him No more my friend . Damp. Be not too positive : Suppose an assignation made by thee Grammount , to meet some kind , some yielding fair , Here in this very favourable place ; And when that you were ready just to reap , The dearest fruits of many waking nights , And painfull days , your friend should then , just then Rudely rush in to interrupt your joys . Gram. You are wanton , Dampierre , but at present That 's not Montigny's case I 'm sure . Damp. I hope it is not , yet I 'll not swear For any one . Gram. Why , hope it is not ? Pray tell me , what from Montigny's Conduct , Can you , Dampierre , have , either to hope , Or fear ? Damp. Oh much , too much indeed , Or else these eyes are shamefully mistaken . Gram. This is all riddle , prithee be plainer . Damp. You will allow , Grammount , That when two equal Gamesters meet to play Upon the square , each with a high opinion Of the others honour , if in that case , The one play foul , the other is thereby Exposed to a more certain loss , Than if he playd with one he knew to be The most notorious Cheat alive ? Gram. No doubt o' nt , his confidence in th' others Honour , makes him careless , blind to all Those little tricks , which in another , He would soon discover . Damp. Well then , there 's none so likely to discern the fraud ; As some good skillful honest stander by ▪ Gram. 'T is granted . Damp. I am that honest stander by , Who in a strange unequal game , see thee , Grammount , most miserably cheated : You more , I am your Brother , which ought At least to add some weight to what I say . Take my advice then , e're it be too late , And of all men beware Montigny , By whom you are betray'd , wrong'd , and abus'd , Beyond all patience . In short , all in this world you hold most dear , Eyes now at stake , whilst he , that treacherous friend , Plays foul , shamefully foul , thinking at one Well managed throw , to rob you of your rest , Your honour , fixing an everlasting stain On you , and all your injur'd family ; Gram. My honour , Dampierre ? Montigny seek to Rob me of my Honour ? Have a care , And it thou lov ▪ st thy self-proceed no farther . By heaven , thou art not safe , unless thou canst So plainly prove each guilty circumstance Against him , as can leave no room for doubt . Damp. Having discharg'd my duty I have done ▪ If you are careless , well may I be so : For tho I firmly do believe you wrong ▪ d , Yet is it not impossible for me To be mistaken , since chance perhaps , Not assignation , may have brought them hither . Gram. Curse on thy double Tongue , hold me not thus In doubt : but tell me quickly , what chance , What assignation do'st thou dream of , Hah ! Tell me , who were they thou saw'st here ? Speak , wretch , speak , or by all that 's sacred I shall forget thou art my Brother . Damp. You are strangely passionate , tho all at last May come to nothing : I only say I saw 'em here , I mean Montigny and Elvira , Here in this dismal solitary place , Alone too , but what of that , all places Are alike , company , or no company , 'T is all one , you now , to persons that Are vertuously inclined . And if you can Believe them such , why , there 's an end of all . Gram. Just Gods ! that I should ever live to hear , The softest , tenderest Wife , and truest friend Thus to my face abused , yet must not punish The offender . Damp. You wrong your self , Grammount , In rashly blaming me , who jealous of Your Honour , do in pure kindness only , Speak my reasonable fears . Gram. True : I wrong my self , my Wife , my Friend , and thee , In blaming thee good , honest Dampierre : Indeed I am ashamed , that by too prompt A passion , I should seem to give thee so Much credit , as should make me entertain The least suspicion , either of Elvira Or Montigny . Farewell unworthy man , Be not hereafter so extremely jealous Of my honour , but consult your own . And know , I wear a Sword , will do me right Against all the world except a Brother . Ex. Gram. Damp. So , now 't is all against Dampierre , Dampierre against all : no matter , Thanks be to Fortune , and my lucky brain , All things do yet go reasonably well . I have , by way of accusation , Got the start both of Montigny and Elvira , And that 's no small advantage , in my case . For now whether Grammount begins with them , Or they to him complain ; in all appearance , I am equally secure , since either way , Whate're is said of me , will seem contriv'd Only to blast my reputation , And so be all suspected : Wondrous good ▪ Go bravely on then , Dampierre , push at all , Honour attends th' attempt , tho thou shouldst fall . The end of the Third ACT.

ACT IV. SCENE I. Enter Elvira and Leonora . E 〈…〉 'T Is true , my Dear , your inconsiderate And hasty flight , was tho the innocent , 〈◊〉 the only cause of that adventure . Alas ! I tremble when I reflect 〈◊〉 the great danger you were in , and blush 〈◊〉 I consider I must call him Brother , Who could be guilty of so barbarous An attempt . Elv. No more of that , for if you Call him Brother , so does my dear Grammount , From whom with care this secret must be kept , Least a too just resentment should transport , And hurry him beyond the limits of His usual moderation , so engage The family in sad and endless broils . Leon. Your goodness , Madam , is beyond example , But may there not be danger in it ? Some men are of so base a temper , That a pard'n , proves but a new inducement To 'em , to offend again . Elv. 'T is in my power To hinder his offending in that kind . Leon. 'T is true , and yet I cannot choose but fear , Tho what , or why , I must confess I know not . Elv Prethee no more of thy kind fears , I apprehend not any thing , my dear , Nor can I at the present think of ought But of thy Passion , Child , 't is a noble one , Discreetly placed grounded on rational hopes . Leon. For Heavens sake , Madam — Elv. Nay , do not blush : Montigny's one of such undoubted worth , As justly may — but see where he comes , Where is Grammount ? Enter Montigny . Mont. Gone , Madam , to the Governours Apartment , Where he continues very busie in Dispatching some affairs of great Concern . Elv. It has been still his chiefest care to ease The Governour in all he could , and I Am glad he studies to oblige so good And generous a Kinsman . Mont. His merit justly , Madam , claims that service . Elv. And my Grammount pays it most willingly . Would he were here . Mont. I , Madam , wish it too , Yet something within me , what I know not , Checks the fond wish , and makes me almost dread Th' encounter of my dearest friend . Alas ! How can I ever look him in the Face Again , or hear him call me by the name Of friend , whilst Dampierre lives . Elv. Can you believe you should oblige Grammount , In spilling of his only Brothers Blood . Mont. In punishing so exquisite a Villain , I do most certainly believe I should . Leon. Yet that Villain still , is Grammount's Brother ; Mont. Brother , alas ! what signifies the name Or empty title of a Brother ? He who by vertue , or by kindness merits The name of friend , is not a friend alone , But even a Brother too , and much more so , Than is the wretch that only claims by blood . Elv. Too low methinks , Montigny , you depress Those sacred ties of blood , on which the world Seems to rely so much . Leon. Brother 's a name So dear , that the meer title only seems Enough to justifie our kindness For the very worst of men . Mont. 'T is true , Much is by custom given to the name Of Brother , and therefore only , 't is , Since decency disarms my Friend And will not suffer him to use his Sword , That I believe my self engaged in honour To draw mine . Elv. Equally impious In Grammount 't would be to wish revenge , As act it . Leon. And what he cannot wish without A crime , you cannot do without a greater . Elv. No more of this , I know Montigny You are my Grammount's dearest Friend , Consult not then his Honour only , But his repose , and that of all his Family . Mont. Believe me , Madam , that 's my only aim . Elv. I do ; and therefore beg you to conceal This shameful story . Oh bury it In eternal silence , let not Beaufort , Let not Grammount , suspect the least of Dampierre's Villany : but above all , beware of Making it more publick by a quarrel . Mont. Ah , Madam — Elv. I must not be denied , unless you have A mind to ruin him you call your friend , And ever robb him of his sweetest rest . I do conjure you then by all your Vows Of friendship to my dear Grammount , By all that 's dearest to you in this World — Elv. Press it no further , Madam I Obey , Tho Heaven knows I do it with regret . Elv. We 'll leave you to your cooler thoughts , Montigny , Commending moderation still , as best , In this and all other cases between friends . Come Leonora . Ex. Elv. Leon. Mont. Just Heaven ! how much Beauty , how much goodness have you bestow'd On this one Woman . Ex. Montigny . Enter Lysette follow'd by Dampierre . Dam. What! threaten to turn thee out of Doors , Basely expose thee to the scorn Of all thy laughing tribe , rail at , And revile thee for a matter of just nothing ? Lyset . Nay , 't is a fault not to be pardon'd , And therefore I 'm resolved to be revenged . Damp. Fault ! that 's a name too soft , too mild , For such a crime : Why , 't is Treason , Downright Treason , a flat Conspiracy Against thy Empire Child . Lyset . Right , therefore once more I do pronounce She sinks under the mighty weight Of my displeasure . Damp. Thou hast it in thy power , my Girl , To crush her into nothing . Lyset . I have indeed , thanks to the dear delight You take in mischief , Sir . But hark ye now , in cooler blood , Pray tell me what mad pranks You play'd i th' Forest , to put My Saint-like Lady into such Devilish Passion . For when all ▪ s done , my being out Of the way so small a time , was but an Inconsiderable fault , too slight To draw on so much anger . Damp. No Pranks at all my Child , Only an Argument arose by chance , And I unluckily ▪ maintained my part With something too much heat , Which put her Ladyship into a horrid pelt , And made her rail at me , at thee , And every body else I think . Lyset . Yet , out of her abundant kindness , She has forgiven me forsooth , And once again received me into favour . But that 's no matter , I have not yet Forgiven her : Nor will I , till to her cost ▪ I have made her know me better . What! Pretend to turn me out of Doors , No , my blood rises at the very thoughts on 't , Say when shall I be Revenged ? Damp. This night , this very hopeful night , Nay if you let slip this night , You may perhaps look long enuff For such another opportunity . Lyset . With all my heart then , let it be this night : For now , methinks , I am prepared for any thing That looks like mischief . Damp. Bravely resolved . Know then , Grammount at present Is at the Governours appartment , Where multiplicity of business , Committed to his care alone , By the uneasy Beaufort , will certainly Detain him longer than ordinary : So that the Night , which now draws on a pace , Will in all probability be far spent , E're he returns to his own Lodgings ; And then , then my Girl . Lyset . Ay , then will be the time , when I Poor inconsiderable fool , will with Such cunning play my Treacherous part , As shall with ease impose upon the good Grammount , Pluck from his faithfull breast Deep-rooted Love , and in its room Plant the rank weed of Jealousie , Turn dearest Friendship into mortal Hate , And so give birth to general Confusion . Dam. Revenge , how sweet thou art ! Revenge now makes Thee undertake a part , the Devil himself Would bogle at : No Woman sure e're suckled thee , Or something more than man club'd to thy getting . But see , the Governour appears , Away , and fail not when it comes to th' push Be sure . Lyset . Fear me not . Exit Lyset . Enter Beaufort . Damp. This Wench is ripe for Hell . Beauf. Well , what News Dampierre from Elvira ? Knows she my Love , does she speak Life or Death ? Damp. Hear the story , then be your self the Judge . Beauf. Proceed . Damp. Know then , that leaving you I went directly to Elvira's Lodgings , But missing of her there , and being told , That she was gone , attended by Lysette , To take a turn i' th Neighbouring Forest , Thither I follow'd her , where I first met Lysette , and quickly managed her so well , As not to stand in awe of her too near Attendance : The Woman so secured , I boldly ventured to attack the Lady , Whom , as I could have wisht , I found alone . Our first discourse was of indifferent things , Which yet I managed with such curious Art , As drew her on at length to that of Love . Beauf. Thy boldness makes me tremble , Dampierre . Damp. From Love in general , we quickly came Down to particulars , and then you may Believe I fail'd not to describe your flame As you your self could wish . Beauf. nam'd you my name ? Damp. Not yet , nor did I at first let her know She was the person Lov'd : But still made 〈◊〉 Of borrow'd names , till finding that my art Prevail'd , and that the soft and moving Terms , In which I told the story of your Love , Had toucht her tender heart with pity of Your case , then I reveal'd the secret , told her all . Beauf. And how did she receive it ha ! Damp. Why Sir , with all the haughty marks of Pride , And Scorn , she could put on ; t is true , she said Not much , and fain would have been gone , but I Made bold by the advantage of the place , Stopt her , and would have made her hear me out , When on the sudden in stept — Beauf. Lysette . Damp. No , Sir , Montigny . Beauf. Montigny say'st thou ! Hell and Confusion ! but say what follow'd . Damp. Only this , as soon as he appear'd , With eager haste she flew into his arms , Then with a scornful smile , and slighting toss O' th' head , she took her leave of me , and so Triumphantly went off with her Gallant . Beauf. Just Gods ! How can you wink at so much base And rank Hypocrisie : If such crimes as these Meet with impunity , the world will grow too wicked by the bad example . Rather assert , assert your Sovereign Power , And darting Thunder at her devoted head , Let her , oh let her unpitied fall A wretched instance of offended Justice . But , tell me , do'st thou believe Montigny Over heard thee ? Damp. Most certainly he did . Beauf. What then in this unlucky case is to be done . For sure if once Montigny knows I love , 'T will not be long a secret to Grammount . Advise me Dampierre . Damp. Excuse me , Sir , I know no way but one That can effectually secure Mens Tongues . Beauf. And what way 's that ? Damp. Faith , Sir , an easy one . Cut but the Throat , the Tongue will tell no tales . Beauf. No , that 's a way too rough , I like it not . Damp. Why now I think on 't better there may be Yet one way more , not quite so safe perhaps As t'other , but — Beauf. Name it and I am thine For ever , but no blood I charge you . Damp. No , this is a Gentler way , it is but Subtly loosening that firm tie of Friendship , Which seems so well and firmly knit , between Montigny and Grammount , and you have done Your business : For if they are not Friends , Most certain 't is they will be Enemies , There is no mean , and then you need not fear Beauf. Most true : but then the difficulty is , How to divide two souls so strictly , and So long united , in the dearest bands Of Friendship 's sacred , and severest Laws . Damp. Let me alone to manage that affair , If Grammount Loves Elvira , before To morrows Sun he shall as surely hate Montigny to the death : Distrust me not , But if you like the project — Beauf. Like it , yes , I guess at thy design , and like it well : Grammount I pity thee , tho' it is but just To let thee see thy danger , e're thou art Too far impos'd on by a Treacherous friend , And wanton Wife . But it grows late , And I am strangely discomposed . Farewel . Exit Beauf. Damp. Go , go to bed old man , sleep if thou can'st , And dream of happy hours thou ne'er shalt see . So , he 's well prepar'd I think , and I have Gain'd a mighty Patron to protect me Whatever mischief happens ; the more the better now , since he is like to Answer all . Poor I am but his humble Instrument , Ha! Ha! Ha! I could e'en kill my self with Laughing now , To see how strangely all things have conspir'd , To Crown my Roguery with Success , And me with Safety . Exit Damp. Enter Grammount and a Page before him with a Flambeau . Gram. Business , unlucky business long has kept Me from Elvira : Tho' all late as 't is , Methinks some dark , ill-boding fancy seems to tell me , 't is too early yet , to seek Those Joys I ever found in her dear Arms. A strange unusual damp has seized my soul , And I who use , with eager Joy to fly To my Elvira , have now scarce the strength , Or Will indeed , to move one step that way . Oh Dampierre , Dampierre , what was thy design ? Since I left thee , my working thoughts have been In a perpetual hurrey ; thou , alas ! Hast poyson'd all my dearest Joys , and in My troubled mind , laid the foundation Of Eternal Doubts , Perplexing , Gnawing , Killing Doubts . And yet I know thee , Dampierre , Base , of a Poor , Mean , Low spirit too , And so , capable of any mischief . Why then should'st thou gain credit with Grammount , Who knows thou hat'st both him and his Elvira . No , from my memory henceforth I chase Thee , and each thought of thy base Treachery . Grammount's too happy in a vertuous Wife , And Generous Friend ; tho' curst indeed , in thee , Thou Cruel , and Unatural Brother . But hark , what noise is that ? A noise of opening a door and Lysette Enters who seeing Grammount pretends to avoid him . He stops her and turning up her hood sees her tearing a Letter with her Teeth . O , 't is the door opens . Hah ! Who art thou that stealest Away so guiltily ? Nay , I must see , Lysette ! Whither away at this Unseasonable time of night , And what paper 's that thou Mumblest so ? Lyset . Alas ! I am undone , Pardon me ; sir , Oh Pardon me I beseech you . Gram. Would'st have me pard'n thee e're I know thy fault , Confess , and then perhaps thou may'st deserve it . Lyset . Oh never , never , all that I desire , Is that you would be so just , as to believe Me only guilty , for on my life My Lady's innocent . Gram. Hah ! thy Lady , speak , what of her ? Lyset . Why , she I do declare to all the world Is innocent , by all that 's good she is , Nay were I to die next minute , My Tongue should end my story with that truth . Gram. I ask not of her innocence , but tell me , And tell me truely , as thou hop'st for any Mercy from me , whither wert thou Stealing with that Letter , and what Were the contents of it ? Lyset . For Heaven sake , and for your own , Sir , Press me no further , here on my knees I beg you would not . Gram. Ha! do'st thou dally with me ? Come , speak quickly , or by heaven thou diest . Lyset . Do with me what you please , But force me not , I do beseech you , To a Confession that — Gram. What! Speak I say , tell me , What was that Paper , to whom directed , And from whom ? Lyset . Alas I die for fear — Gram. If thou continuest obstinate , Not all the world shall save thee from my Fury . Lyset . It was — Gram. What was it , speak I say ? Lyset . It was a Letter — Gram. From whom ? Lyset . It was a Letter from my Lady — Gram. Well said , to whom ? Lyset . To — Yet , Sir , excuse me I conjure you . Gram. Hah more trifling , out with it boldy , or — Lyset . 'T was to Montigny , Sir , Your best , and dearest friend , Montigny . Gram. To Montigny ! Was it to Montigny , that Elvira sent thee With that Letter at this unseasonable hour ? Lyset It was : But why should that so much disturb you ? A petty quarrel parted 'em in the evening , When tho' Montigny humbly sued for pardon , She would not grant it , till at the last , good Lady , Repenting her severity , she could not rest , Till she had given him an assurance , under Her hand , that what he then so earnestly Desired , was now as freely granted , and — Gram. Peace Screech-Owl , Peace , thou rank messenger of lust : By heaven , I know not why I do not kill thee , Hence from my sight I say , away . Exit Lysette . But which way now , wretched Grammount , wilt thou Direct thy wandring steps , where e're thou goest , Destruction , Horror , and Amazament will attend thee . Thy faithful cares , deaf to all other tales , Will turn each sound into this one sad story , Elvira's false , Montigny's false , and now Grammount's become , the scorn of all the world , Oh 't is too much for mortal man to bear , By heaven , i 'll make my sad , and just Revenge As signally notorious as my wrongs . But hush , be still y' unruly passions of My mind , and think Grammount , that to revenge is but the way to publish thy disgrace . Patience then , oh patience , grant me just heav'n More patience , or take from me that little I am yet master of , and in return Bless me with madness , eternal madness , Madness without one minutes interval of sense . Grief , Rage , Despair possess my totur'd mind , Make me but mad , ye Gods , and you 'll be kind . The end of the fourth Act.

ACT V. SCENE I. Enter Elvira and Leonora . Elv. NO more , no more ; my Grammount is unkind , Fickle , inconstant , wavering , and false ; Some fatal Beauty has surpriz'd his Heart , And chased th' unfortunate Elvira thence For ever , as a stranger to his Love . Leon. Judge not so hardly , Madam , of a Flame So pure , so exemplary , and so chaste As his . Elv. What other Judgment can I make ? In vain I have wept , in vain I have pray'd , In vain all night pursued his flying steps From place to place , yet cannot get one Look That may seem kind , nor one poor Word By which I might but guess at the sad Cause Of his pretended Grief . Leon. This his proceeding Seems to me most strange , I must confess , But yet — Elv. Seek not , dear Leonora , To excuse him , but rather pity me . Ah! hadst thou been a Witness of my grief , And of those rough returns he last night made To all the softest and engaging Arts My Love could then invent , or his desire , Thou wouldst with Tears lament , not doubt his change . Leon. What strange Unkindness was he guilty of ! Elv. Long had I wisht my dear Grammount's return , With all th' impatience of a loving Wife , Ready to share and sooth his nearest Cares , And lull his wearied Body in these Arms To gentle Rest . The Night far spent , at length He came ; but when with open Arms I ran To meet him , alas ! how was I surpriz'd , When I read nought but Fury in his Face ! Doubting his Health , and vent'ring yet nearer To him , he frown'd , and rudely flung me off : Yet by degrees his Rage began to waste ; And giving place to some more gentle Thoughts , A sullen deadly Grief seem'd to succeed it : When I , once more , attempting to draw near , He gently only put me by , then with A deep and dismal sigh turn'd short away , Leaving me all in tears , and almost dead With grief . Yet I resolv'd to follow him ; And so indeed we pass'd the tedious Night , He flying still , I still pursuing , tho' in vain . Leon. With all my Heart I pity you , and wish T were in my power to serve you , Madam . Elv. Ah , my dear Child , what can thy Kindness do For miserable me , unless perhaps It teach thee now to bear me company In tears , to echo forth my sighs from thy Compassionate Breast , and kindly share The sharpest Pangs of a too just Despair ? All this , my Dear , I dare expect from thee , And from thy Love ; and yet even all this Would but augment , not ease my Misery . Leon. Yet something more I 'll do , I 'll to Grammount , And force that fatal Secret from his Breast , Which he yet keeps so close . Elv. But can you think . That he will hear a Sister , who is deaf To all the sighs of a once dear-lov'd Wife ? No , no ; too much you wrong my dear Grammount ▪ Were he the Man he was , with Joy he 'd hear His dear Elvira ; but not being so , Be yet so just as to believe him deaf To all the World beside , as well as her . Leon. Whither will your distemper'd Fancy lead You , Madam ? Oh , think — Elv. Alas , I know not . Ah my Grammount ! couldst thou but guess to what A wretched state thy cruel usage has Reduc'd the poor unfortunate Elvira , 'T would make thee soon repent , and give new life To thy expiring Love . Leon. Madam , once more I do beseech you give me leave to try My Fortune with Grammount ; I may prevail . Elv. Never : alas , he will despise thy Sex , And slight thy tender age . No , were he to be Prevail'd on by Entreaties , Montigny Best of all the World might hope to do it . But — Leon. Despair not , Madam , Friendship , perhaps , May do what Love at present cannot . Elv. Ah , tempt me not to entertain a Hope Which , once deceiv'd , will but encrease my Pain . Yet for thy sake , my Dear , I do submit . Go to Montigny then , and faithfully Relate my Story ; but leave the rest to him , Whose Generosity will better teach Him how to act , than all that we can say . Leon. Madam , I fly . Exit Leon. Elv. And I in the mean time will once more seek My Dear , my false , ungrateful Fugitive Grammount . Exit Elvira . Enter Dampierre and Lysette . Damp. Well met ; what News , my little Fury , From thy Quarters ? Lys. News , my great Lord of Mischief , worthy of Thy Ear. In short , I 've play'd my part Most rarely well , and now the Devil , I think , Is playing his . Damp. As how , I pray ? What , is the wise virtuous Grammount caught at last ? Does he begin to powt ? Lys. Oh , extreamly . Damp. And Elvira , what does she ? ha ! Lys. Why , she e'en whines , and pines , and blubbers , Like any o'ergrown Girl that had been Newly whipt . Damp. Good , wondrous good . Lys. Yes , yes ; all yet goes wondrous well indeed ; But what the end will be , for my part , I cannot guess . Damp. No matter , let there be no end at all , But that which puts an end to all things , Death . Oh , may Confusion , Rage , Despair , and Everlasting Jealousie attend 'em to their Graves . Lys. Amen , say I : but yet suppose they should At last come to a right Understanding , What would become of me , I pray ? Were it not better , think you , to decamp In time , and leave them to themselves ? Damp. By no means ; that would make 'em presently Smell out thy Roguery and their own Error : Rather be more diligent , and more assiduous In your attendance now than ever : Consult their Looks , for till you find the weather Clearing there , you need not fear a Storm ; And then at last it will be time enough to fly . In the mean time , here ; thou hast been Offers a pair of Gloves . Industrious , and dost deserve Encouragement . Lys. A nasty dirty pair of Gloves , I warrant you ; Foh ! I 'll have none of 'em . Damp. Away , thou' rt a Fool , and knowst not what Thou hast refus'd : they are , I tell thee , Gloves of the richest scent ; besides , each Finger's Lin'd with Gold ; here , wear 'em for my sake . Lys. Well , for once I care not if I do , the cordial Gold Perhaps may keep my Spirits up , and give me Strength to bear the brunt of all . Adieu , Sir . Exit Lys. Damp. Go thy ways , thou art a dainty Girl , and dost love Mischief well , for which I love thee , tho' I dare not Trust thee . Thou art indeed a thought too mercenary , And may'st at last , for Gold , sell me , as thou already hast Thy Mistress ; therefore I can but pity thee . Those Gloves , How rich soe ▪ er and sweet their scent may seem , Yet once well heated on the Hand , will cast a strong And deadly smell , most fatal to the Brain , a Poyson Not only certain , but strangely sudden in its operation , As I was told , at least , by an Italian famous in that hellish Art , from whom I had 'em . If it be so , my business is Compleatly done , and thou , poor fool , Lysette , hast The Reward of all thy Services . Exit Damp. Enter Grammount . Gram. What is that thing call'd Happiness , which Men With so much noise and eager zeal pursue So many several ways , each hoping to Attain it in the possession of some Distant long'd-for Blessing , tho' all alike In vain ? For even that darling Blessing Plac'd in a nearer light , and once enjoy'd , Loses but too much of its wonted lustre ; Or else , encounter'd with rude Crosses from Abroad , is lost and buried in a thick And dismal Cloud of rank uneasie Cares . There 's no such thing then as a happy man On this side of the Grave . Look on me , all You vain Pretenders , look on me , and own At last this Truth ; for all the dearest Joys Of Life did seem to court and flatter me : Yet all those Joys are in one moment dampt , All vanisht , all lost to me for ever . Friendship and Love , which once made up The sweetest part of 'em , do now conspire My ruin . Oh Elvira ! Enter Elvira . Elv. Oh Grammount ! He turns from her . Nay , turn not , turn not , cruel man , away , But look upon thy poor disconsolate Elvira , almost drown ▪ d in tears : speak , Oh speak at last , and let her know wherein She has been faulty or unfortunate Enough to merit this hard usage from Her much-lov'd Grammount . Gram. Art thou Elvira ? Elv. Why dost thou ask that unkind Question ? Gram. Because Elvira ever loved Grammount , And so could never be a trouble to him . But thou , alas ! art most importunate ; Prithee be gone , thou art not Elvira , Not the same Elvira , that I 'm sure of . Elv. Yes , I am the very same I ever was , The very same Elvira still , on whom With dearest Transports thou didst once bestow Ten thousand Vows of everlasting Love : The same unfortunate Elvira ▪ Who , charm'd by thy sweet , soft , bewitching Arts , Heard with delight those many treacherous Vows By thee intended for her ruine . In short , I am the same Elvira that At last crown'd all thy hopes ▪ paying down Love For Love , as I then thought , tho' since I find , With purest Gold I only purchas ▪ d Dross . Gram. Forbear , forbear Elvira , and recall Not to my Memory those happy days In which I dearly lov'd , and thou wert kind ; Too much , alas ! 't will aggravate my Grief , Since I within this Breast already feel Torments , to which nothing , I 'm sure , can add New Pains , but a reflection on that Heaven I once enjoyed in thee and thy dear Love . 〈◊〉 . If in Elvira's Love thou once wert blest , Why art thou not so still ▪ Gram. Oh Elvira ! All things are strangely alter'd since that time ; Love once was pure , and Friendship sacred held , Yet now the one is little else but Lust , The other all design . Vertue is fled , And Vice Reigns now Triumphant in each sex , We are all wond'rous weak alas , and frail . Oh — Elv. 'T is true , most true my dear Grammount , and yet What weakness canst thou justly tax me with ; Unless perhaps my loving thee too well , Be an infirmity unpardonable In the unfortunate Elvira . Gram. Oh — Elv. Alas ! what means that sad and dismal groan , By grief extorted from thy manly breast : Thou canst not sure be so unjust , as to Suspect my Love . Yet if thou art , speak I conjure thee , but speak plainly then , And not in un-intelligible groans . Speak , cruel man , oh speak , do I not love thee ? Am I false ? oh may Elvira live no longer , Than with a passion Innocent and Pure She loves her dear Grammount . Gram. What pity 't is our hearts are not expos'd To open view , as are our faces , that So , even our most private thoughts might all Appear , naked and bear as at their first Conception , e're drest up in ornamental Words , of a much different import . Elv. Ah , could'st thou but see into my heart , Thou there would'st soon perceive thy error And my innocence . But since , my dear Grammount , That cannot be , believe my words , believe These tears , believe my Actions , oh see , I am here ready to receive thee still , Rude and Unkind , Ungrateful and Inhumane As thou art . Come then , come to these arms , Ne're yet stretcht out to thee in vain . Wilt thou not come , not yet ? thou canst not sure Deny me now , when all I beg of thee , Is , that once more thou would'st be happy . Gram. Why should'st thou desire impossibilities ? Alas ! I never can be happy more . Elv. If thou Grammount can'st ne're be happy more , Then must I be for ever miserable . Cruel man , shew yet some small remainder Of humanity ; be not so rash , Either accuse , or else acquit me , But pass not sentence on me e're I 'm heard , Gram. No , fear not too hasty , or too hard A sentence from my mouth . False as thou art , I cannot hate , where once I loved so well . Live then Elvira , live long , but live a Stranger to Grammount . And that thou may'st live Happily , wipe from thy memory the Dearest passages of some few past years , And see thou quite forget , there e're was such A wretch i' th' world as I am . Elv. Hold , oh hold ! It is too much , alas ! insult not poorly O're my weakness , nor play the wanton With my grief : Why do'st thou bid me live , I fit must be without Grammount ? Why do'st thou wish me happy ? when all my happiness , Thou know'st depends upon thy love , Yet that thou say'st is forfeited , is lost To me for ever , oh my Grammount . It is emiff thou art unkind , Be not unjust to thy Elvira . For pities sake grant something to the dear Memory of our mutual Love , And if thou know'st me false , tell me wherein , When , or with whom I have offended . Gram. What satisfaction would it be to thee Elvira , should I tell thee all : since all Alas ! can be no more , than what thou know'st , As well at least , if not much better than My self . In short , I am convinced thou can'st not Clear thy self ; and if so , consider that A weak defence is worse than none at all . Tempt me not then to speak , since 't will but add To thy Confusion , and my Shame : But I would willingly spare both , as much As may be with my honour . Elv. Confusion , Shame , Contempt , and everlasting Infamy , For ever be my Lot , if e're I wronged Thy Love so much as in one guilty thought . Oh my Grammount my dear , my Lov'd Grammount , See thy Elvira on her tender knees , From whence she ne're will rise , till she has learnt The strange and fatal cause of her disgrace . Gram. Away , this thy affected obstinacy , Would make me hate thee , were it possible . Elvira , is it not enough that thou hast Wrong'd my Honour ? but that I my self Must here repeat the shameful Tale Only to gratifie thy wanton curiosity . Perhaps indeed , I know not half thy brave Exploits , so my imperfect tale may yeild . Thee some diversion : But have a care , The Cuckold yet bears his misfortune Patiently enough , make him not then thy sport , For if thou do'st , by Heaven away , away Elvira , I would not be provokt , away I say , Whilst yet I 'm Master of my growing Passion . Elv. Do what thou wilt , be rude , be cruel , Be inhuman as thou hast been , to the Poor Elvira , yet whilst she has any strength , She never will let go this hold , unless Thou first communicate the fatal secret . Gram. Away , thou 'lt force me to be rude . Be not so strangely obstinate , alas ! I would be civil , tho I can't be kind . Elv. Barbarous man ! yet speak , what have I done ? Gram. Will nothing else content thee ? then thus I throw thee off , and force my way . Strives to get from her , and drags her about the Stage . Elv. And thus I cling to thee , close as the tender Ivie To the sturdy Elm. Do , do merciless Grammount , do , pull , hale , tear , drag , nay kill me , Yet I 'll not willingly let go : But oh ! His cruel strength prevails . He breaks from her . Gram. Farewell thou most importunate of Women . Elv. Stay , stay my Grammount , give me but one poor Minute more , and all is done : Fear not , I will no longer urge my innocence , It is enough that thou believest me false : Oh , for thy own repose , may'st thou for ever Think me so . Farewell , methinks I feel , My lab'ring soul striving , and strug'ling , With its utmost force , to break it's wretched Prison , yet something , I know not what , still Makes resistance and obstructs its passage . I see Grammount , thou likest not the delay , I will dispatch then , and for thy sake , Hasten the slow approaches of my fate . Art thou then fled , art thou then gone for ever ? Farewel my dear , unkind , Grammount , farewell And when I 'm dead , think what the poor Elvira Would have done to have kept thy love , who on Her own tender breast dares thus revenge The fatal loss . She pulls out a Dagger and stabs her self . Gram. Hold , hold , Elvira hold ! By Heaven 't was boldly done , and nothing could Have given so sure a blow but Innocence It self . Yes my Elvira , every drop Of that dear blood , loudly procliams to all The world , thy innocence and my sad guilt . Oh ye just powers above ! to what strange fate Am I at length reserved ! see , at thy feet My dear Elvira , the wretched'st thing alive , A thing , unworthy of the name of Man , A Penitent , who dares not hope for pardon Either from Heaven or thee , tho both alas ! Are infinitly good , and merciful . Enter Montigny . Mont. Where is Grammount , where is my dearest Friend ? Gram. Who is it names Grammount , hah ! Starting up . Mont. Elvira all in blood ! Oh Heavens ! I hardly dare believe my Eyes , what wretch Could have the heart to do so Villanous A deed ? Gram. See here that miserable wretch , That bloody Villain thou wast speaking of . He was thy friend , oh , if thou still art his , Do him one friendly office , draw , and sheath Thy Sword in this disloyal Breast ; strike home Be sure , and with one kind obliging blow At once deliver me , from the too just Reproaches of the world , from this dear , yet Killing spectacle , and from my hated self . Elv. This wound , believe me , came not from his hand , Elvira's arm , assisted by dispair , Had strength enough to give the fatal blow . Mont. Oh my Grammount , oh my dear friend , What a vast Treasure hast thou lost . Alas ! what can I do but pity thee , Thy crime carries its own punishment Along with it , a punishment beyond What the severest justice can inflict . Enter Beaufort Beauf. Tell me what means this general mourning , A sad confusion seems to reign within These walls , where e're I go I meet with deep Despair , and if I chance to ask the cause , I 'm answered only with a sigh , some tears , And a distracted ghastly look , and that Is all th' intelligence I can get . Gram. Here be informed then , oh see here a Sight , Will shake thy generous soul with horror : A Sight , will make even thee look pale , And tremble , tho' long ennured to slaughter , And brought up in blood . Nay , start not Sir , It is Elvira welt'ring in her gore , Elvira fal'n by her own hand , But murdered by Grammount . Enter Leonora . Leon. Never did so much joy , as here I bring Spring from so sad a cause . Beauf. Hah ! who 's that unseasonably mentions joy Here in this place of everlasting Woe . Leon. Oh heavens ! are all my dearest hopes thus dasht ? Oh Madam , who has done this bloody deed ? Elv. 'T was I , 't was I my self ▪ my dear , weep not For me , but rather go , and comfort If thou canst the poor Grammount . Leon. Oh Grammount ! Unfortunate Grammount , most grosly hast Thou been imposed on , strangely abused By that prodigious Monster Dampierre . Know then , that Letter , thought directed By Elvira to Montigny , And sent , at that dead guilty time of night , Was but a trick , a meer device , the whole , Only a scene contrived by Dampierre , Acted by Lysette . This truth , from her own mouth I just now learnt , And she confirmed it with her latest breath . For she is dead , poysoned by Dampierre . This confession was to me , I must confess , Most welcome , and welcome sure it would have been To all , had it been made but some few minutes Sooner . Gram. Gods ! what has this miserable Caitif done . To draw down all your anger on his head ? What horrid crimes before had stained his Soul That you should thus , all at one fatal blow , Oppress the wretch with your severest Judgments ? Oh , that some Mountain now would fall on me , And in its dreadful ruines hide my head . But hark methinks the Gods grow loud ; hark , how Their awful thunder grumbles in the Sky , See how the fiery balls fly whizzing by ! Dealing amazement , and destruction all a round . Ha , ha , ha , ha . See you old miser , laden with swelling bags Of ill-got Gold , with how much awkar'd haste , He limps away to shelter : see how he ducks , And dives , and dodges with the Gods , and all Only in hope t' avoid , for some few daies Perhaps , the just reward of his accursed extortion . The hot Adulterer now , all chill and impotent With fear , leaps from the polluted bed , And crams himself into a cranny , Those mighty men of blood , who make a Trade Of murder , forget their wonted fierceness : Outnois'd they shrink aside , and shake for fear O' th' louder threatnings of the angry Gods . Whilst I , I only , tho' the wickedest wretch of all , with an erected countenance stand to 't , Courting those dangers others seek to avoid . And yet there 's not one dart one ball for me , Tho I , Heaven knows , deserve 'em all . Oh He throws himself on the ground . Elv. Let not the knowledge of my innocence , My dear Grammount , add to thy grief , Rather believe me guilty still , alas ! Thy generous easy nature was abused , Imposed on by a Brothers wicked arts . Thou still art innocent , and so am I , Who freely can forgive thy greatest faults . Come then Grammount , come to thy Elvira , And with a kiss , a cold and dying kiss , I 'll seal thy pardon . Gram. My dear Elvira , this thy prodigious Goodness , does but encrease my misery . Yet I will come , yes my Elvira , With a down dejected countenance , Not daring to look up , but creeping thus , And crawling on the earth , I do approach Thy feet , here , spurn the vile thing , tread , trample The miserable insect into nothing . Elv. Oh my Grammount , yield not too much to grief . It is a fatal , tho a slow disease . Gram. I thank thee , dear Elvira , for that hint . Now thou art kind , and giv'st me good advice . Whoever would endure an age of pain , When one such blow as this , might give him present ease ? Stabbs himself . Beauf. Hold , oh hold Grammount . Leon. Oh heavens what has he done ? Mont. Too much alas ! altho' no more than what I apprehended from his just despair . Gram. Help me , my friend , and place me near that Saint . So , now 't is pretty well , pardon me my dear Elvira , that so long I have defer'd This piece of Justice , or rather pardon me , That at last I durst presume to mingle . My polluted blood , with those pure streams of thine . Elv. Oh my Grammount ! My Love can pardon thee any thing , Yet 't was unkind , to give me thus A second wound , a wound more grievous To the poor Elvira , than the first Which gave her death . Elv. Where , where art thou my Grammount A rising mist has on a sudden snatched Thee from my sight , alas ! I faint , I dye , Death seizes now on every part , and my Affrighted Soul sits hovering on my pale And trembling lips , just ready to begin Its flight . Gram. Oh stay , Elvira , for thy dear Grammount , Stay yet , but one poor minute , then , As we have long liv'd and lov'd , So let us still Love , and lanch together Into a vast eternity , where we may Love For ever . Elv. Oh no , imperious death commands And I must needs obey . But do thou live , Live yet , if it be possible , and Love The memory of the poor Elvira , Farewel — Farewel — my dear Grammount — For ever She dies . Gram. She 's gone , and all my comfort is , that I Shall quickly follow her . Yes , this sight wounds Deeper than the sharpest dagger . And yet How many Charms remain Unconquer'd still , As Beauty lies Triumphant over Fate , And seems to flourish in the arms of death . Oh let me steal one parting kiss , at least , From those cold lips . But e're I go , my Friend On thee I here bestow all I have left Of value in the world , this weeping Maid . Mont. If the fair Leonora will confirm The gift , I shall be but too happy . Oh , my Grammount I beg thee to believe Since Fate deprives me of my dearest Friend , Nought but so rich a present from his hand Could bribe me to survive so sensible a loss , Gram. Here take her then . Beauf. And with her all my wealth , Gram. The poor Grammount can only thank you Sir . Come Leonora — Leon. For Heavens sake — Gram. This modesty's unseasonable now . Deny me not the satisfaction To see thee e're I die so well bestowed , Give me thy hand . Take her Montigny . And may this saithful Wise abundantly Supply the want of an Unfortunate But real Friend — Farewel ! a long farewel to all . Hark , hark Methinks I hear Elvira call . I come , I come Elvira , my aspiring Soul Begins to mount , not to o'retake , but at An awful distance to attend and wait On thine above , in those blest Regions Of eternal peace . He dies Beauf. Fate now has done its worst , and from me torn All the delight and comfort of my age . Who waits there ? hah ! Enter Servants at one door , Damp , at the other . But see , just Heaven has sent him to receive The due reward of all his crimes . Seize , Seize on that Villain Dampierre instantly . they seize him . Damp. What means this rudeness , hah ! Beauf. Look there , Grammount is dead , Elvira's dead , And all this mischief is but the effect Of thy black hellish arts . Damp. Why , if they are dead , Let 'em be buried : What is 't to me ? They might have longer lived , or sooner died For ought I know , who is it dares blame me ? Leon. I , tho thy Sister , must accuse thee wretch Think , think on Lysette , poysoned by thee , She with her latest breath discovered all Thy arts . Damp. Then my Italian was a Rascal , Away , thou art a Girl , and should'st be whipt For prating . Leon. Ah! was 't not enough , that in the Forest Thou on Elvira's honour madest a base Attempt , but to reward her goodness In concealing thy black crime , Thou must Conspire her death too ? Beauf. Hah ! how 's that , can that be true ? Mont. Most true , believe me Sir , and had not I , Directed by her cries , come in by chance , The Villain had accomplisht his design . Beauf. Heavens I is it possible ? Damp. Yes , employ'd by thee , I would have been thy taster Beaufort . I would have wanton'd with her , stroked , and tamed The vertuous fool , then brought her gentle , To thy longing arms . Do'st thou not Love me for 't ? yes in thy heart I know thou do'st , for who but I , would e're Have taken so much pains to serve thy Lust ? Beauf. Justly thou do'st reproach me Dampierre We are both Villains , and on both I will My self see speedy Justice done . Thou who In spite of all my caution , hast yet dipt Thy hands in blood , shalt suffer death with the Most cruel tortures our severest Laws Inflict on murderers . As for my self , Here I renounce the world , and all its joys , Resolved henceforth in some Remote And Unfrequented Hermitage to spend The small remainder of my wretched days At Nature's charge : Where the cold clammy earth Shall be my bed : homely , but wholesome roots My daily food , and water from the Nearest Spring my only drink . There on my bended knees I 'll try to appease the anger Of offended Heaven , and with repeated Earnest vows solicit pardon for all my faults . Damp Ha ha ha ! Beauf. Canst thou laugh wretch ? Damp. Yes heartily , at thee and thy pretended penance . Beauf. Away with him , and load him well with Irons . Damp. Do thy worst old man , I fear not thee , nor death . Damp. is led out Beauf. Now there is little left for me to do , But to discharge my duty to the dead . In sad and solemn pomp I will attend Them to the earth , and give them both one grave . There , when in peace their dear lov ▪ d Ashes lie , From Treacherous ease , from all vain joys i 'll fly , And tho I live , yet to the world i 'll dye . FINIS

THe Inhuman Cardinal , or Innocence Betrayed . A Novel by Mrs. Mary Pix :

Now in the Press and will suddenly be published , the second part of the proposal to the Ladies , wherein a Method is offered for the improvement of their minds . By the Author of the first part , 12o . Printed for R. Wilkin .

OVid Travestie , or a Burlesque on Ovid' s Epistles ; by Captain Alexander Radcliff , of Grayes-Inn .

The Old Batchelor : A Comedy , by Mr. Congreve .

The Family Physician , being a Choice Collection of the best Remedies for the Cure of all Diseases incident to humane Bodies ; very useful in Families , and serviceable to Country People . To which is added the true English Wine-Cellar , being the best method to make all English Wines , and Metheglin ; with a Collection of the Choicest Cosmetick Remedies to preserve the Complexion of Ladies ▪ Published by George Hartman Phylo-Chymist , and Servant to Sir Kenelm Digby till he Dyed . Price 2 s. 6 d. Printed for Richard Wellington , at the Lute in St. Paul ' s Church-Yard .