University of Virginia Library

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.

Fel.
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.

Fel.
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.
Can I endure it! O Gramont!
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,
So soft, so nice, so passionately fond,
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.

Lam.
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.