 | Fatal Friendship |  |
ACT III.
SCENE I.
Enter Count Roquelaure, and Lamira.Lam.
'Tis I my Lord, am honour'd in your choice,
To make me sharer of your noble bloud.
Count.
We shall esteem our House with greater Cause,
When it can boast of such an Ornament;
But as the happiness is most my Sons,
He best can pay you our acknowledgments,
For what he wanted confidence to ask.
Lam.
He seems to want no vertue for perfection,
But a just sense of his exalted worth,
22
My heart grows bold, and tells me he has Charms,
[Enter Gra. and Bell.
Which it must love, and will not be controul'd.
Count.
Bellgard, your fair relation has consented
To all our wishes, tho' beyond our hopes.
Bell.
She has oblig'd us all, but you Gramont
Will have the greatest sense, as well as share
Of the good fortune.
Gra.
'Tis so above what I can say, or think,
I cou'd not hope, nor ought to'ave aim'd at it.
Count.
You must not wonder, Madam, if my Son
Is eager to secure a happiness
Which want of merit makes him fear to lose;
He press'd me e'er I came, if I prevail'd,
To beg you'd not delay to Crown his wishes.
Lam.
So small a prize, wou'd not be worth the price
Of a long expectation.
Gra.
It might reward an Age of expectation.
Count.
But happiness can never come too soon;
May not th'account of his, begin to morrow?
Lam.
Nay now you are too hasty.
Count.
Bellgard, you'll join in intercession with us.
Bell.
If but to avoid suspicion, it were best
To use dispatch.
Gra.
O Felicia?
[Aside.
Count.
Ha? methought he nam'd, Felicia,
We must not let him cool; since all's agreed,
What hinders that it be to night?
Lam.
To night.
Gra.
Why not to night? it cannot be too soon,
Since it must be.
[Aside.
Lam.
Why must our Sex seem shy of what they wish?
[Aside.
Bell.
Dare you trust your Chaplain with the secret?
Lam.
I know none fitter.
Bell.
Then all is ready for the Ceremony,
Come Lamira, you shou'd be above
This little affectation, this Maiden Coyness,
Away with it, you must not now deny,
There's no pretence for it.
Lam.
You have an absolute command of me,
But methinks this is too sudden.
Count.
O the more unexpected the more pleasing.
Bell.
I had design'd before an Entertainment
Of Musick here to night, most fortunately
On this occasion,
23
Whilst we within conclude the happy Union,
Come Gramont, you'll lead your Bride.
Count.
Hast, you lose time the night is almost spent.
Lam.
How pleas'd we are with importunity,
That makes our own desires seem condescention;
Who pleads a cause like this can never fail,
If not their Arguments, Love will prevail.
[Exeunt.
After a Consort of Musick.
The Scene draws and discovers Gramont, sitting alone.
Gra.
It must not be, 'twere base to wrong her so;
Ha base! why what's the part I have already acted?
Am I not now initiated Villain?
Have I the smallest claim to honour left?
Or can it be possest by halfs? no,
Indivisible, it like the Soul
Must animate intire, in every part,
But one base Act compleats that Character,
Stamps Villain on the whole, be then a Villain
—Ha? Felicia, my love! how cou'd I think it!
How once Imagin it were possible
For one possessing all thy Heav'n of Beauties,
To take another to his loathing arms;
No, in this Shipwrack of my honour, vertue,
I'll save the treasure of my Faith to thee,
'Tis all I have left of good, my Darling store,
And I will hug my self, and pride in that.
Enter Lamira.
Lam.
Is it not time, Gramont, to think of rest?
The morning breaks upon your nights Devotions.
Gra.
Perhaps I have some cares that keep me waking,
With which I wou'd not load your peaceful breast.
Lam.
O can you think that I behold you thus,
And keep my peace? thus giv'n up to sadness,
And for untimely thought, neglecting me,
What is it? speak your griefs, what cause so pressing
To allow no respite upon a time like this?
Which for the wretched'st pair that fate e'er join'd,
Us'd to put on at least a form of joy.
Gra.
Mine is indeed a most uncommon cause,
But do not seek to know it.
24
No, I need not,
Now it speaks it self, you do not love me,
That, that alone cou'd keep you from me thus.
Gra.
Suppose th'idea of a suffering Friend,
For me this instant bearing cruel hardships,
Had check'd me from indulgent thoughts of ease,
Wou'd that excuse me to you?
How clasp'd in those soft arms cou'd I be call'd
The Friend, the other half of poor Castalio,
Whose fainting limbs, rude circling Irons load.
Lam.
I know your Friends misfortune, and his worth,
I know you owe him much,
And will not tax you of too nice a gratitude,
Be such a lover, as you are a Friend;
This cause of sadness shall be soon remov'd
Three thousand Crowns will give Castalio freedom,
Which shall be sent him instantly. Within there, Marian.
[She talks aside with Mar.
Gra.
Down, down proud, swelling heart, why shou'dst thou mount
Above my Groveling fate?
Thou, can'st not raise it to thy height, yield then,
Be vile as that.
Lam.
Bid him hast, and say Gramont has sent him.
[To Mar. who goes out.
Let him not mention me. Still are you sad?
[Advancing.
Gra.
I'm but correcting a proud Rebel here,
That wou'd not be oblig'd; I shall have peace
When I have taught it to be as ingrateful,
As I must be.
Lam.
To whom.
Gra.
Madam, to you.
Lam.
Why to me? why must you be ungrateful?
Can you not love me?
Gra.
You know not what a Bankrupt you have trusted,
So poor, so ruin'd, that for all he owes you,
The kindest, best return that he can make,
Is thus to shun your Bed.
Lam.
Am I then your aversion.
Gra.
Believe me, 'tis the highest Mark of value,
That neither your resentment can provoke,
Nor all your Beauties tempt me to abuse you.
Lam.
Abuse, is that a Husbands language? how?
What mean you? speak the cause of this behaviour.
Gra.
It is not to be told, let it suffice
That as the present circumstances are,
If I shou'd take a Husbands Privilege,
The consequence wou'd be to you most fatal;
Ask not the cause, I cannot tell you more.
25
Say, only say, it is not want of Love,
And I will seek no further.
Gra.
Were all the fire of every Heart you have enflam'd,
Raging at once in mine, this were the greatest proof
That I could give you, of true affection.
Lam.
O cou'd I be convinc'd of that Gramont,
I shou'd not envy the most happy Bride,
I have no thought, no wish beyond your Love,
Make me secure of that and I am blest;
Why art thou thus unmov'd, thou cruel Savage?
Hast thou no Sensibility, no Fire in thy Soul?
Or have not I the Art to blow the Flame?
Instruct me then, if 'tis not yet too late,
If 'tis not kindled at another's Charms;
That was an Injurious Thought, chide it away,
Tell me you cou'd not be so false, so base,
You do not answer!
Nay then, I fear I am abus'd indeed;
Speak quickly, Swear I am not; the very fear's
Distracting, not to be born, Swear you are thus by Nature,
Thus cold, Insensible to all the Sex,
As you are now to me, swear that
And I'll complain no more of your Indifference;
But with submissive Duty, tenderest Care,
And most unwearied Love, still strive to move
Thy cold, obdurate Heart; is there a Hope to gain it?
Gra.
Madam, You set it at too high a rate,
It is not worth your least concern or thought.
Lam.
Why, why Inhumane dost thou answer thus;
Regardless of the Doubts that rack my Soul?
O speak; reply to them, e'er they distract me;
'Tis enough, enough thy silence speaks,
The dumb Confession of a guilty Mind;
Ay, there it is, thou false, perfidious Man,
'Tis to a Rival I am sacrific'd;
But thinkst thou I will tamely bear my wrongs,
And let her triumph in 'em? Dare not to see her,
For if thou dost, I'll find the Strumpet out;
Confusion! Slighted, for another too!
O how I'll be reveng'd! I'll know this Sorceress,
Make her most infamous;
I'll be your plague, anticipate your Hell.
Gra.
Why all this for a bare Imagination?
Lam.
Is it no more? Then you may join with me
To curse this Creature of my fancy;
Let all united Mischiefs light upon her,
Diseases make her loathsome to your arms,
26
May pinching Wants bring her to Beggery,
And Infamy divert all pity from her.
Gra.
O hold! You stab my Soul: If you must curse,
On me let all your Imprecations fall,
For I alone am Guilty.
Lam.
Why thus concern'd for one that has no Being,
But in a bare Imagination? Dissembling,
Vilest Wretch; thou thing below my anger;
There have been glorious Villains, that may look
With scorn on thee, disdaining thy low ends;
A paltry bait of Fortune, poor Spirited,
Mean Traytor; what Indigent abandon'd Creature
Is this, that hopes to vaunt it in my Spoils,
Yet must be purchased at no less a rate
Than such an insolent Disdain of me?
What are your terms? what she? And what her Charms?
Let's know the State, and reason of this Preference—
Stubborn and Dumb; am I not worth an Answer?
Gra.
What, Madam, can I answer to your Rage?
Lam.
My wrongs, thy own upbraiding guilt thou canst not answer.
I do not rage, nor is there any rage
For Injuries like this.
All that has had the name of Passion, Fury,
Ev'n to Madness, here is highest Reason;
So basely us'd! a Rival's property!
Unvalu'd, thus despis'd for her, tormenting!
What easie Fool didst think thou hast secur'd?
Mistaken Man thou hast rous'd a Woman's Rage;
In spight of all thy hardned Villany,
Thou shalt repent thou dist provoke me thus;
I'll haunt your Steps, and interrupt your Joys;
Fright you with Curses from your Minions arms;
Pursue you with Reproaches, blast her Fame;
I'll be the constant Bane of all your Pleasures,
A Jarring, Clamorous, very Wise to thee,
To her a greater Plague, than thou to me.
[Exit Lam.
Gram.
Let my Felicia scape her jealous fury,
And with whatever force her Vengeance, strike,
It is not worth my fear: She must be yet
Too much transported with her rage t'observe me,
I'll take the occasion, and somewhere near Bellgard's
Remain unseen, till I may have admittance
To my Love;
Her Nature's calm, by no rough passions tost,
A Harbour from this Tempest; upon her gentle Bosom
27
Or I despair ever to find my Peace.
[Exit.
SCENE Bellgard's House.
Felicia
Sola.
'Tis yet too soon t'expect him, the sprightly Day
Cannot move swift enough for Loves impatience.
Doubtless my kind Gramont is wishing too
For the blest Minute, waiting as he's wont,
Like a fond Lover, ready to seize the first
That gives us Liberty: O that dear Man!
Who that were so belov'd, wou'd grudge to bear
More than I suffer for him? That Kind, that faithful
Partner of my Griefs.
Enter Bellgard.
Bell.
So Early up Sister.
Feli.
I was not much dispos'd for sleep this Morning.
Bell.
Perhaps my coming home so late disturb'd you.
Feli.
'Twas late indeed.
Bell.
Th'occasion may excuse it.
Feli.
Am I to know th'occasion?
Bell.
Only a Friends Marriage. 'Twill be fit
[Aside.
To let Felicia know Gramont is married,
But not to whom; whilst that is unsuspected
The Secret's safe.
Feli.
May I ask what Friend? Or is't a Secret, Brother?
Bell.
'Tis indeed a Secret, Sister; but you
Shou'd know it, if I were sure 'twould not disturb you.
Feli.
That I dare promise you;
It is not in the power of any one
To raise the least concern in me that way.
Bell.
Then I may safely tell you, (but with charge
Not to reveal it) Gramont last Night was marri'd.
Feli.
Gramont! You jest with me.
Bell.
On my faith I'm serious.
Feli.
What can he mean? To whom, Brother?
Bell.
For that you must excuse me; I've giv'n my Honour
Not to disclose it to my dearest Friend.
Feli.
Unless you tell me that, I shall believe
You said it but to try me.
Bell.
Were it not a Secret of Importance,
Or if my own, I wou'd not hide it from you;
None but his Father, and my self were trusted,
My Faith, my Honour, Friendship, are engag'd
To keep it with the last Fidelity.
28
With what concern he speaks; and yet it cannot be.
Bel.
I conjure you, Sister, not to mention this.
Fel.
Why such a Secret? But you're not in earnest.
Bel.
Why should you doubt, when I affirm it thus
Not from Report, but my own certain knowledge?
My self was present at the Nuptial tye,
A Witness of their Vows.
Fel.
If there is faith in Man, this can't be truth;
I fancy, Brother, this is but design'd
To try how I cou'd bear it.
Bel.
Those are Women's Arts, I understand 'em not;
Heav'n knows no greater truth than what I've told you.
Fel.
Swear by that Heav'n, you're sure Gramont is marri'd,
And I will doubt no longer.
Bel.
Am I not worth your Credit? Why all this Doubting?
By every name that's good, Gramont is marri'd,
I saw him marri'd.
Fel.
Wretched Woman!
Bel.
How Felicia!
Fel.
O I must not think it;
He can't be guilty of so base an action.
Bel.
What foolish Passion's this?
Fel.
And yet my Brother swears it, swears he saw it:
O Gramont! Is all my Love and Faith rewarded thus?
Bel.
For shame at least conceal your folly;
This Fondness for a Man who cares not for you,
Perhaps scarce thinks of you.
Fel.
O, to be so abus'd!
Bel.
What said you? So abus'd
Fel.
He has wrong'd me basely.
Bel.
Ha! Hast thou not wrong'd thy self, giv'n up
Thy Honour to him?
Fel.
O forgive me, Brother—
Bel.
Dar'st thou own thy Infamy, yet hope to be forgiv'n?
Fel.
I am marri'd.
Bel.
No Strumpet, he but serv'd his Lust with thee,
And now has paid thee as thou dost deserve,
Too wise to Marry where he found not Vertue.
Fel.
Can you suspect me of a thing so vile!
No, by all Goodness, I am not dishonest;
But by all Lawful Bonds, his real Wife.
Bel.
O curse! What do I hear! What have I done!
Base Dog, so to betray, abuse my Friendship;
Whether does all this lead? Where can it end?
'Tis Misery, Dishonour without end,
And I the Instrument of all this Ruine.
Villain, perfidious Villain! Ay, Traitress, weep,
Weep for thy Shame, thy Sin thy Disobedience,
Rebellious Girl, pollution of my blood.
29
O I deserve all this, that cou'd deceive
And disobey the best of Brothers.
Bell.
You've met a just return of your Ingratitude
To all my Love and tender Care of you.
Fel.
I have indeed: I have no Husband now;
And where, alas, where will my little Son
Now find a Father!
Bell.
A Son! Is then this curst
Unhappy Marriage of so long a date?
Fel.
Two Years I've been his Wife, and brought in secret
A wretched Infant to partake our Sorrows,
And now they are compleated. O my Brother,
Tread me to the Earth;
Double your Anger on me; 'tis but just,
That I may fall a Load of Miseries,
And never, never rise.
Bell.
Alas, she moves my Soul—Prithee no more;
Thy Fault was great, but now thy Punishment
Has so exceeded it, I must forgive thee.
Rise, Felicia; I am still a Brother;
Wipe off these Tears; thou shalt have Justice done thee,
Trust me thou shalt.
Fel.
O you are too good. But my dear Brother,
For whom am I so treacherously abandon'd?
Bell.
O that gives double edge to my Resentment!
The other innocent, and more abused,
Shares in our Blood as well as Injuries.
What, did the Villain think our Family
Were Women all, whom he might poorly wrong,
Safe from th'avenging Hand of Manly Justice?
Fel.
Is she a Relation? What, Lamira?
Now I reflect on it, he spoke last Night
Of some Addresses there.
Bell.
Sister, be satisfy'd; my Honour is
Too nearly touch'd to let you be abus'd;
With that compose your self. But poor Lamira,
Who can bear this fatal Story to her!
I who have been th'unlucky Instrument,
Dare not speak it, till with the Villain's Blood
I've wash'd off the Dishonour.
[Exit Bell.
Fel.
Is this the Joy the long'd-for Morning promis'd!
Are all those tender, charming Ecstasies,
And soft Embraces which my Love expected,
Now giv'n to another! O 'tis death!
This very Minute she holds him in her Arms,
Thinks him all hers; he lies transported too,
With perjur'd Breath gives all my Vows away.
30
He must be mine: I'll pierce his faithless Heart
With my Upbraidings. O she shall not have him;
I'll tear him from her; I will, I will;
She shall not, must not have have him. Ha!
[As she is going out, Lamira meets her.
Lam.
Why start you? Is there ought in me to fright?
Fel.
Lamira here!
Lam.
Is that so strange? I come to seek your Brother:
The Hour's indeed unusual; but my Business
Will well excuse to him this early Visit.
Fel.
Early indeed for Lovers so newly join'd to part.
Lam.
Ha, does she know it? (Aside.)
What Lovers do you speak of?
Fel.
Too well you know; wou'd I had dy'd e're known it:
Why must I live to his Infamy!
Faithless and perjur'd, he is still Gramont,
Once so belov'd, so kind, and seeming true.
Lam.
Is't then Felicia? She whom Nature meant
A Friend, my Rival, cause of all my Unhappiness:
But how am I betray'd to her!
How this curst Secret known!
If once so kind, who tells you he is false?
Fel.
Heav'n wou'd not leave such Baseness undetected;
The sacred Vows he made last Night to you,
Were mine before:
And O how oft in Ecstasies of Love repeated!
How pressing me in his fond Arms, he has swore
They never shou'd embrace another.
Lam.
Too faithful, Villain.
(Aside.)
What of this? Suppose he lik'd you once,
Does that oblige him not to mend his Choice?
Is he to blame if you want Charms to fix him?
Fel.
Madam, I'll not dispute with you my Charms,
But urge my Right in him; that Plea's sufficient,
Whate'er I am, to make your Loves a Crime.
Lam.
Because he swore to you, think you that Men
Remember Oaths in their loose Pleasures made?
What can you hope for from so vain a Plea?
'Tis wise in one who sees her self abandon'd
To mourn in silence: Pursuits, Reproaches, or Complaints,
May lose her Fame, but ne'er retrieve the Lover.
Had you beheld last Night what wondrous Love he shew'd,
You'd be convinc'd his Heart's too deeply fix'd
E'er to be mov'd, and cease your vain lamenting.
Fel.
Such wondrous Love! O I know too well
How many tender ways he has to charm,
And make himself believ'd:
But cou'd he be all that for any other,
31
So much transported as I've seen the Charmer?
Lam.
Poor credulous Creature, when he seem'd so fond,
You shou'd have been less kind to have secur'd him,
Or made him more than swear.
Fel.
What means all this?
You speaks as if you thought me not his Wife.
Lam.
His Wife?
Fel.
Why with that Scorn? His Wife, his lawful Wife,
As firmly as the Holy Priest cou'd make me.
Lam.
Felicia, 'tis too much, if he is false,
He has gone too far to leave you that Pretence,
Nor will it be believ'd.
Fel.
I have sufficient Witness, and every legal Proof
Of what I say, But let himself appear,
Let him look on me, and try if he has Courage
To disown his first, his only Wife.
Lam.
Then what am I!
If this is truth, is it your part to rais?
Am not I most abus'd, dishonour'd, ruin'd!
But it cannot be. What, by a Priest?
Legally Marry'd, said you?
Fel.
Heav'n witness that I am.
But yesterday I saw him too,
All Love, all Tenderness, and full of me.
Sure some curst Arts must have been practic'd on him;
Some Philter he has drank, no other way
You cou'd have charm'd him from me.
Lam.
Are these such Arts?
Indeed the mighty Fondness you so boast of,
May make it out of doubt.
Fel.
Alas, my Arts
Have been of little force; for I have lost him:
O have I lost for ever all the Joys
I found in him! The solid Happiness
Of Minds united, must we ne'er again
With equal Wishes, equal Transports meet?
Lam.
Never, never; I henceforth forbid it.
Fel.
What Right can you pretend to of forbidding?
Lam.
The Right which one that's injur'd has to Vengeance.
Th'ungrateful Traytor that abus'd my Love,
Shall give, nor know no Joy in any others.
Think you I'd patiently behold the Villain
Possessing, and possess'd, by a lov'd Rival?
Fel.
Madam, I think you neither have the Right,
Nor Power to hinder it, if we agree.
32
You dare not; my Wrongs shall rise and check the very Wish,
Strike him with Shame, and you with Jealousie,
That shall prevent, or poison all your Joys.
But if thou art so poorly spirited,
T'accept and yield t'adulterated Love,
I'll disappoint your Wishes when their highest,
Fir'd with full Hope, and nearer Expectation,
When all thy eager Senses are at once
Crowding to feast on his delusive Charms,
E're thou can'st taste, I'll stab him in thy Arms.
[Ex. Lam.
Fel.
Alas, we ne'er can meet in Joy again:
Nay, now perhaps he means no more to see me:
I wou'd but once, but live to see him once,
Take my last leave of him, and then the World;
For when I'm his no more, I wou'd be nothing.
[Exit.
| Fatal Friendship | |