University of Virginia Library

Scene First.

Manuel, Solus.

Enter a Servant with a Letter.
Man.
From whom?

2 Ser.
Sir, the Contents will soon resolve you.

[He reads.
Man.
Tell Rodorick he has prevented me
In my Design of sending to him first.
I'l meet him Single at the time and place;
But for my Friend tell him he must excuse me:
I'l hazard no Man in my Quarrel, but
[Exit Mess.
My self alone:—Who's within there?
Enter a Servant.
Go call my Sister, and Gonsalvo hither.
[Exit Servant.
'Twas push'd so far, that like two Armies, we
Were drawn so closely up, we could not part
Without ingagement:—But they must not know it.
Enter Julia, Gonsalvo, Amideo.
I have some Business calls me hence, and know not
When I shall return: But e'r I go,
That pow'r I have by my Dead Fathers will
Over my Sister, I bequeath to you:
(To Gonsalvo.
She and her Fortunes both be firmly Yours;
And this when I Revoke, let Cowardise
Blast all my Youth, and Treason taint my Age.

Gons.
Sir,—

Man.
Nay, good, no thanks, I cannot stay.—
[Exit Manuel.

Gons.
There's something more than ordinary in this:
Go Amideo, quickly follow him,
And bring me word which way he takes.

Amid.
I go Sir.
[Exit Amideo.

[Julia Kneels.
Gons.
Madam, When you implore the Pow'rs divine,
You have no Pray'rs, in which I will not joyn,
Though made against my Self.

[Kneels with her.
Jul.
—In vain I sue,
Unless my Vows maybe Conveigh'd by you.

Gons.
Conveigh'd by me?—My ill success in Love
Shews me too sure I have few Friends above.
How can you fear your just desires to want?
When the Gods pray, they both request and grant.

Jul.
Heav'n has resign'd my Fortune to your hand,
If you, like Heav'n, th'Afflicted understand.

Gons.
The Language of th'Afflicted is not new;
Too well I learnt it when I first saw you.

Jul.
In spight of me, you now command my Fate;
And yet the Vanquish'd seeks the Victors hate:
Ev'n in this low Submission, I declare,
That had I Pow'r, I would renew the Warr.
I'm forc'd to stoop, and 'twere too great a blow
To bend my Pride, and to deny me too.

Gons.
You have my Heart; dispose it to your will;
If not, you know the way to use it ill.

Jul.
Cruel to me, though Kind to your desert,
My Brother gives my Person, not my Heart:
And I have left no other means to sue,
But to you only to be freed from you.

Gons.
From such a Sute how can you hope success,
Which giv'n, destroys the Givers happiness?

Jul.
You think it equal you should not resign
That pow'r you have; yet will not leave me mine:
Yet on my will I have the Pow'r alone,
And since you cannot move it, move your Own.
Your Worth and Virtue my esteem may win,
But Womens passions from themselves begin;
Merit may be, but Force still is in vain.

Gons.
I would but Love you, not your Love constrain;
And though your Brother left me to command,
He plac'd his Thunder in a gentle hand.

Jul.
Your Favour from constraint has set me free,
But that secures not my Felicity;
Slaves, who, before, did cruel Masters serve,
May fly to Desarts, and in Freedome starve.
The noblest part of Liberty they loose,
Who can but shun, and want the Pow'r to choose.

Gons.
O whither would your Fatal reasons move!
You court my Kindness to destroy my Love.

Jul.
You have the Pow'r to make my Happiness,
By giving that which you can ne'r possess:

Gons.
Give you to Rodorick? there wanted yet
That Curse to make my Miseries compleat.

Jul.
Departing Misers bear a Nobler mind;
They, when they can enjoy no more, are Kind:
You, when your Love is Dying in despair,
Yet want the Charity to make an Heir.

Gons.
Though hope be Dying, yet it is not Dead;
And Dying people with small Food are fed.

Jul.
The greatest kindness Dying friends can have,
Is to dispatch them when we cannot save.

Gons.
Those Dying people, could they Speak at all,
That pity of their Friends would Murder call.
For Men with Horrour dissolution meet;
The Minutes, ev'n of painfull Life are sweet.

Jul.
But I'm by Pow'rfull inclination led;
And Streams turn seldome to their Fountain head.

Gons.
No, 'tis a Tide which carries you away;
And Tides may turn though they can never stay.

Jul.
Can you pretend to Love, and see my Grief
Caus'd by your Self, yet give me no relief?

Gons.
Where's my Reward?

Jul.
The honour of the Flame.

Gons.
I loose the Substance then, to gain the Name.

Jul.
I do too much a Mistress's pow'r betray;
Must Slaves be won by Courtship to Obey?
Thy Disobedience does to Treason rise,
Which thou, like Rebells, would'st with Love disguise.
I'l Kill my Self, and if thou can'st deny
To see me Happy, thou shalt see me Dye.

Gons.
O stay! I can with less Regret bequeath
My love to Rodorick, than you to Death:
And yet.—

Jul.
What new Objections can you find?

Gons.
But are you sure you never shall be Kind?

Jul.
Never.

Gons.
What never?

Jul.
Never to remove.

Gons.
Oh fatal Never to Souls damn'd in Love!

Jul.
Lead me to Rodorick.

Gons.
If it must be so!

Jul.
Here, take me Hand, swear on it thou wilt go.

He kisses her Hand.
Gons.
Oh balmy Sweetness! but 'tis lost to me,
Like Food upon a Wretch condemn'd to Dye:
Another, and I Vow to go:—one more;
If I Swear often I shall be forswore.
Others against their Wills may haste their Fate;
I only Toyl to be unfortunate:
More my own Foe than all my Stars could prove;
They give her Person, but I give her Love.
I must not trust my Self.—Hippolito.

Enter Hippolito.
Hip.
My Lord!

Gons.
Quickly go find Don Rodorick out:
Tell him the Lady Julia will be Walking
On the broad Rock that lies beside the Port,
And there expects to see him instantly.
In the mean time I'l call for Amideo.

Jul.
You'l keep your promise to Don Rodorick.

Gons.
Madam, Since you bring Death I welcome it;
But to his Fortune not his Love submit.—
[Exit Gonsalvo.

Hip.
I dare not ask what I too Fain would hear:
But, like a tender Mother, Hope and Fear;
My equal Twins, my equal care I make;
[Aside.
And keep Hope quiet least that Fear should wake.
[Exit Hippolito.

Jul.
So, now I'm firmly at my own Dispose;
And all the Lets, my Virtue cans'd, remov'd:
Now Rodorick I come.—

Enter Gonsalvo again.
Gons.
Madam, My Boy's not yet return'd.

Jul.
No matter, wee'l not stay for him.

Gons.
Pray make not too much haste.

[Exeunt Julia, Gonsalvo.