 | Fatal Friendship |  |
SCENE I.
Feliciaalone.
Distracted with some dismal apprehension,
In vain I seek for Ease to change the Prospect;
What ever way I turn my roving thoughts,
'Tis still but a new Scene of Misery:
Were my Gramont safe from my Brother's rage
And the World's censure, 'twere yet impossible
Ever to reconcile him to himself.
[Enter Bell. and Lam.
Lam.
Whate'er can satisfie my injur'd Honour,
May well, Bellgard, be thought for yours sufficient.
Bell.
I don't dispute it, Madam.
Lam.
Nor do you grant it.
Bell.
Honour gives different Laws to different Sexes;
Mine says this Sword alone can do me justice.
[Apart.
Feli.
What can this unexpected Visit mean?
Lam.
You seem to take me for an Enemy,
Perhaps you look on me with Rival's Eyes,
But I am come in Friendship.
Feli.
'Tis what, indeed, I did not hope, and scarce dare credit.
Lam.
You're Innocent to me, as I to you,
Thô both each others chief unphappiness;
But there's another guilty cause of that;
Him only we should hate, let us be Friends;
Disgusted with the World, I have resolv'd
The short remainder of this wretched Life,
To be a strict Recluse by Holy Vows,
And leave to you, Felicia, the Possession
Of all that Fortune I am Mistress of.
Feli.
This is amazing, Madam! How have I
Deserv'd from you such kindness?
Lam.
Your Merit is unquestion'd, and to me
You are a near Relation;
My Gift is only charg'd with one Condition,
The same I have impos'd upon my self,
That you shall never see Gramont again,
In which I have consulted both our Honours.
Feli.
It were not much, indeed, for yours to see him;
But what in you is Virtue, wou'd in me,
Who am his Wife, be Impious.
Lam.
Not since he first has broke his Faith with you;
By that you are absolv'd.
42
The Marriage-Vows are not conditional;
The Tye's as strong, my Duty still the same,
Howe'er he fail in his.
Lam.
It can't oblige you to depend on one,
Who wants assistance to support himself.
Feli.
Yes, Madam, I must share my Husband's Fate,
However wretched:
When he's depriv'd of every other Comfort,
In that Extreamity he'll need me most.
Bell.
And think'st thou he shall keep thee; be advis'd,
Felicia, you may lose him on worse terms.
Feli.
To me all terms in losing him are equal.
Lam.
She dotes upon him.
Bell.
Infamously dotes.
I tell thee, by my Honour, thou shalt lose
Both him, and me, wander where-e'er thou canst
I will not know thee in the last distress:
And for thy Villain, Husband—
Fel.
Let him but wander with me, I ask no more;
And we will take our weary steps somewhere remote,
Where we can ne'er be more a Burthen to you,
Nor shall you ever hear that there is such
A wretched pair in being.
Bell.
Do not hope it; for by my Life I swear,
If thou dar'st now refuse to abandon him,
Where-e'er you think to fly from my resentment,
There's not a Place so distant can contain you,
But I'll pursue you to, and tear thee from him.
Fel.
Do you grudge us ev'n Misery together?
Lam.
Together! 'Tis a Word, thô join'd with Death,
I cannot hear thee Name. Madam, accept
My offer'd Friendship, or you shall find
I can resent the slight, and if provok'd,
Am not a despicable Enemy.
Fel.
Your hate can execute no worse
Than what in Friendship's Name you have propos'd,
For 'tis the utmost Fate can do against me.
Bell.
Shameless creature, to confess this fondness
For a Man thou know'st to be a Villain.
Fel.
Alas! what fondness? Have I ask'd ought for him
But what the worst of Enemies in malice
Wou'd condemn him to?
To taste the Bitterness of Poverty,
Roving like Vagabonds about the World,
For ever banish'd from our Country, Friends,
And all we hold most dear.
Lam.
But one another, there you expect to find
43
And be instead of all the World to him;
Is that a State for such a Criminal?
What satisfaction to my injur'd love?
No, he shall share the Torments he has caus'd,
Languish in fruitless wishes, curst with Despair,
Eternally depriv'd of all he loves;
Oh I have felt, and know 'tis Death, 'tis Hell,
That, That's a Vengeance fit for me to take,
Thô much too gentle for the Traytor's crime.
Fel.
How has he merited such Cruelty?
Had he last night when all was in his power,
Taken advantage of consenting love
On your unguarded Honour, this Resentment
Wou'd well become you then, and were but just;
You know how far he was from such a Thought.
Lam.
Then he boasts, and maks a Merit of it
To my Rival.
Fel.
I thought it one to you,
It seems you do not.
Lam.
No, since 'twas meant a Sacrifice to thee,
Ev'n Honour is my scorn when I must owe it
To that blind Dotage which I see thee proud of.
But thô thou triumph'st now, know, Rival, know,
That stupid Constancy in ill-plac'd Love,
E'er long to both, the greatest curse shall prove.
Bell.
I'll attend you, Madam, to the Count Roquelaures.
Now hear inglorious Girl, mark my last words,
Thy Obstinacy but confirms my Hate,
Undoes thy self, and wings thy Husband's Fate.
[Going.
Fel.
O do not go thus cruelly resolv'd!
Stay, Brother, on my bended knees I beg you;
Cannot these trembling hands awhile retain you;
Give but some days to a poor Sisters tears,
But till the fierceness of your Rage abate;
Till you can calmly weigh the wrong he'as done,
With all the Miseries that led him to it;
O think what wou'd become of you your self,
If Heav'n were thus severe for every fault committed,
And as you hope for mercy from above,
Now shew it to a Brother's first offence.
Bel.
To one that Heav'n detests! No, may I ne'er
Find Mercy there, if ever I forgive him.
[Exit with Lam.
Fel.
He's bent on Death, and nothing can avert it;
I've done, and here will lye to wait the wound
That through Gramont's, will shortly pierce this Heart:
44
O barbarous Brother! O Gramont—He's lost,
I ne'er shall see him more, but Cold and Ghastly;
Breathing his last, and weltring in his Blood,
Then there's an end of all my Miseries,
For that I can't out-live: O must I live to see it!
[Weeps.
Enter Gramont.
Gra.
Upon the Floor! O most afflicting sight!
Thither the weight of Woes I've heap'd upon thee
Has press'd thee down; this is a Scene of sadness
More expressive, than the most moving words.
Why art thou thus, Felicia? Thou should'st not so
Indulge thy griefs, be calm and well consider,
As now thy Circumstances are, what way
May best be thought to make thee least unhappy:
Fel.
There's not a Medium:
I can have no Misfortunes if I've you,
Nor ever think of Happiness without you.
Gra.
Alas, Felicia!
Fel.
You pity me, as if
You knew how cruelly I have been us'd,
How deaf my Brother is to all my Prayers.
Gra.
Do not offend him, there is hopes, my Love,
When I am gone, he'll still be careful of thee.
Fel.
Gone! Then you can think of going from me;
Of leaving your Felicia.
Gra.
In Life I ne'er can leave thee;
And there's not a Pain in Death, but that.
Fel.
You speak, methinks, as one resolv'd on Death!
Must you conspire too with those that hate me?
Gra.
Thou'st cause to wish, I'ad dy'd before thou knew'st me.
Fel.
I cou'd not then have felt the loss,
But now the very fear is insupportable;
'Twas that had fill'd my bursting heart o'erwhelm'd,
And laid me on the Earth, as now you found me:
And 'tis the only blow of fate, I have not strength to bear.
Gra.
How can I hear thee speak so tenderly,
And think I have undone thee! O Felicia!
Thy love gives double weight to my afflictions:
What is there shou'd induce me then to live?
Fel.
If you have any love for me, the Thought
How miserable I shall be without you.
Gra.
I know too well thy tenderness of Nature,
Know I am too much lov'd; but thou may'st learn
By thy unhappy Husband, there's not a State
So miserable, but may with greater ease
Be suffer'd, than Dishonour; would'st thou not blush
45
As a Knave by all Mankind? Can I,
Or wou'dst thou have me bear it?
Fel.
I cou'd for you:
The World's Opinion wou'd not weigh with me
Against your least disturbance.
Gram.
Why will you plead so earnestly a Cause,
In which if you believ'd you cou'd prevail,
You wou'd your self despise me?
Fel.
There was a time
When I might be assur'd I shou'd prevail;
When the least shew of Discontent from me,
Had power to shake your firmest Resolution;
But then you lov'd me.
Gram.
Do I not love you!
Fel.
You see me drown'd in Tears, o'erwhelm'd in Grief,
Hear me implore, and bare it all unmov'd!
Gram.
Unmov'd! You know not what a War you've rais'd within me:
There's not a word you speak, but wou'd o'ercome me;
But when I think thou'lt share in my Disgrace—
For that I know thy Love wou'd make thee do.
Fel.
No, no, Gramont, were your Concern for me,
'Twou'd most be shewn where I am most concern'd;
But there you are insensible, or think not,
Or care not, what I shall suffer.
Gram.
O 'tis a Thought divides me from my self,
Staggers my Resolution, makes me wish
The greatest Curse, that thou cou'dst hate thy Husband;
Every, every way; I must undo thee;
'Tis only left me now to chuse the noblest,
And that shou'd be endur'd with least Affliction.
Fel.
You've found the way indeed to shorten mine;
Already your Unkindness breaks my Heart!
Gram.
Thou art unkind to use such wounding words,
That know'st my Heart too tender to endure it.
What wou'dst thou have me do?
Fel.
O what indeed! For what shou'd I intreat,
Now all that soft, that dear Affection's lost,
That once cou'd have deny'd Felicia nothing!
What have I more to lose?
Gram.
I can deny thee nothing: where wilt thou lead me!
Ev'ry Tear thou shed'st draws with it my Heart's Blood;
Rather than see thee thus, I'd bear with Life,
With Infamy: Must I, Felicia? shall I?
Fel.
Nothing for me; I am not worth your Care,
And Death will quickly free me from my Woes.
Gram.
Thou art my only Care; take, take me to thy Bosom,
46
Do with me what thou wilt, but let me never think—
Fel.
Wou'd you forsake these Arms,
That tremble with delight whilst they embrace thee?
Gram.
Talk on, and let me gaze on thee for ever,
Till I forget there's ought on Earth besides,
And thou art Goodness, all, all Joy and Blessings.
Fel.
Wou'd you forget there's ought on Earth but me?
Then sure you cou'd for me forsake the rest:
Cou'd you for ever leave the busie World,
To seek with me some unknown, distant Refuge,
Whither the Ills we fear can ne'er pursue us?
Gram.
Alas, thou talk'st but as thy Love wou'd have it;
Thou know'st too well it is not in my Power.
Fel.
Had I not thought it was, I shou'd not have propos'd it.
Gram.
Cou'd I provide thee even but the bare
Necessities of Nature, what's beyond,
I know thy generous Kindness well cou'd spare:
But can I take thee hence to see thee perish,
Under the Extremities of griping Wants
Thou hast not felt, and can'st not apprehend
The smallest of those Hardships, to which thou wou'dst expose
Thy tender Body, does far surpass thy Strength?
Fel.
Love will supply my Strength; and as I can,
I'll labour for our Food, or beg an Alms;
And we shall find some friendly Barn to shelter us
At night, whil'st we repose our weary Limbs.
But cou'd you, my Gramont, endure your share?
And if the Product of our Toils falls short,
Take cheerfully the Scraps of Charity?
Sometimes perhaps your Sleep may be disturb'd
By a poor hungry Infant's Cries; cou'd you
With patience bear it? Cou'd you in such a state
Find any Joy in me? Wou'd you not leave me,
Leave me, and my poor Condition?—My Love,
Why this? The Tears are starting at your Eyes!
Gram.
Is this thy Fate at last? and must I see thee
Suffer all the Miseries, which when
I did but fear, for thee, o'ercame my Virtue!
'Twas this Idea, and have I brought 'em on thee!
Made thy Ruine more inevitable!
Give me Patience, Heav'n; that I shou'd force thee
To this wretched state!
Fel.
'Tis my choice;
I have preferr'd it to a splendid Fortune,
Which now is offer'd me.
Gram.
What Fortune? Or how offer'd?
47
Lamira's; she leaves the World, and wou'd have brib'd me
With her trifling Gift to part with you.
Gram.
Did you refuse it?
Fel.
Cou'd I do otherwise?
Gram.
'Twas reproaching me, did you not then think?
By Heav'n I know you did. With scorn you thought
This was the Bait, this Bait which I despise,
'Twas that seduc'd my Husband.
Fel.
Not from your Faith to me; that you preserv'd;
Tho' by provoking her you hazarded
The loss ev'n of the Bait that tempted you.
Have I done more for you?
Gram.
Yet there's a cause
That will induce you to accept the Offer;
Your Son, Felicia, he must perish else?
Fel.
He must submit to share his wretched Parents Fate.
Gram.
His Fate is yet more cruel! I durst not tell thee,
Loth to increase the Sorrows that too deeply pierc'd thee;
But since 'tis in thy power to redeem him—
Fel.
Redeem him!
Gram.
From Pirates hands: But yesterday
The fatal News was brought me.
Fel.
O 'tis too much!
Gram.
Weep not, but think how thou may'st ransom him.
Fel.
Alas, have I thee means?
Gram.
Thou may'st: But I, I always am an Obstacle,
Where any Good's propos'd. Turn, turn, Felicia,
All thy Tenderness, upon that dear,
Innocent part of me; thou dost misplace it here.
Fel.
At any other rate I wou'd preserve him;
But in exchange for you, he's only dear to me,
As he is yours.
Gram.
Then as he's mine, I beg thee to relieve him.
Fel.
O 'tis the strongest Trial! But to part with you,
That, that's the hard Condition! Impossible!
Is there no other hope? no way to free him?
Somewhat I must endeavour; perhaps your Father
May compassionate his Innocence.
Tho' his unhappy Parents have offended.
Gram.
Try, my Felicia, if there's any mixture
Of the least Tenderness in his hard Nature,
Thou hast Power to extract it.
Fel.
E're this he knows our Marriage,
Thither Lamira going hence intended.
Gram.
Then haste, my Love, before th'Impression ta'en
From her Resentment, strike too deep for thee t'efface.
Fel.
I will, but dare I leave you: Will you promise,
Till my return, to shun my Brother's sight?
48
What need of Promises? Thou know'st thy Power.
Fel.
May I rely upon your Love?
Gram.
Thou wou'dst, if thou cou'dst know with what reluctance
I now part with thee, scarce cou'd it be
More sensible, if we were ne'er to meet again.
Fel.
Perhaps we never may.
Gram.
Why saidst thou that?
Thy sad foreboding Words stuck to my Heart
As if Fate had pronounc'd 'em.
Fel.
Then I fear
Fate has indeed pronounc'd 'em.
Gram.
We'll disappoint it,
Cling to each other thus, and never part.
Fel.
We shall not at this rate; unless you throw me
From your Arms, I have not power to leave 'em.
Gram.
No, thou shalt not.
Fel.
Is then your Son forgot?
Gram.
Alas, my Child! it will be so; 'tis vain
To strive, for Destiny's irrevocable.
Fel.
And we must part.
Gram.
But must I lose thee too!
Fel.
If Destiny will have it.
Gram.
Thou'rt gone!
Fel.
O my Gramont!
Gram.
Farewel.
Fel.
I fear for ever.
[Ex. Fel.
Gram.
For ever! Never see thee! O Felicia!
[Enter Castalio.
Castalio! the Man I most wou'd shun:
How shall I look on him, or how receive him!
Cast.
This is beyond my hope: I came to ask
Where I might find my Friend, and I have met thee.
Let me embrace thee, give thee thy Castalio,
Thine my Gramont; for 'tis from thee I hold
My Freedom, Life, and Honour, I've nothing that's my own,
Nothing of worth but what I owe to thee.
Gram.
My Lord, you owe me nothing.
Cast.
Is this the way to meet my clasping Arms?
You answer too with an unusual Strangeness,
And wrong me with a Title less than Friend,
The only one I glory in.
Gram.
Yet 'tis the only one dishonours you.
Cast.
To be call'd your Friend?
Gram.
When you know me, you will disdain the Name.
Cast.
'Tis therefore I am fond of it, because I know you.
Gram.
For what I seem'd; but till this day I never
Rightly knew my self.
Cast.
I know you better than you do your self.
Gram.
Do you know me for a vile, a coward Wretch,
That dare not look Ill Fortune in the Face,
And only sides with Honour till Interest clashes with it.
49
You give me the Reverse of what you are.
Gram.
I said you did not know me.
Cast.
Not in that Character:
I know you firm to Honour, have seen you dare
The worst of Fortunes, Malice: Is't not for Honour
You have not incurr'd a Father's Anger,
And expos'd your self to all the Ruine
That must follow it.
Gram.
Perhpas that was my Mind of yesterday,
I may have chang'd it since; rely on no Man;
He that this Hour is honest, the next may be a Villain.
Cast.
I think you're chang'd indeed; your Words are wild,
Your Looks disorder'd; Heav'n preserve your Reason.
Gram.
Heav'n rather take it from me: 'Tis the best wish
For me, unless I cou'd recall the past:
There's nothing now in future Fate but Madness
Can give me any ease.
Cast.
It greives my Soul to hear you! Have better Hopes,
I may have power to serve you; why thus reserv'd?
We've us'd with Friendship to beguile our Griefs,
Whilst we discharg'd 'em on each others Breast.
Gram.
Let me forget I ever had your Friendship,
'Tis now the greatest Torment of my Thoughts,
When you no more can chear or pity me,
Can be that Friend no more.
Cast.
Not less a Friend for being more unhappy,
I'm still the same to you.
Gram.
Oh, O Castalio! were I still the same!
But now—
Cast.
What now?
Gram.
Spare me this Heav'n; drive me where I may ne'er
Behold this Man, and let me be expos'd
The publick Scorn, mark'd out for Infamy,
And hooted by the gaping multitude,
Not all the Ignominy th'united World
Cou'd heap on me, wou'd half so much confound me
As but to look on him, and think what once
I was in his esteem, and O what now I am!
Cast.
Am I so dreadful! Trust me I'll use you gentlier,
Than you wou'd your self; what is't you labour with?
Shall I assist you in the Pang of Birth?
Somewhat you've done amiss which you repent of;
Let me be Judge, for you are too severe:
I know you ever wou'd condemn your self
With strictest Rigour for the smallest Frailties.
Gram.
Is't me you speak of?
50
I've chid you oft, and yet I lov'd you for it.
Gram.
And wou'd you then have thought I cou'd commit
The basest, meanest, the most treacherous Action?
Cast.
Impossible.
Gram.
I thought so too; it seems we were mistaken.
Cast.
What have you done? I have a Friend's Concern,
And ought to know it.
Gram.
Indeed I don't deserve your least Concern;
But for your Peace of Mind inquire no further;
Believe I am unworthy of your Friendship,
And think of me no more; but if you hear my Name,
Avoid the Story that must follow it;
For you wou'd hate your self, if you shou'd know
How ill you had plac'd your Kindness.
Cast.
You make me still
More eager to enquire; by our past Friendship,
I conjure you tell me, your Heart seems bursting
With the fatal Secret, and yet you will not vent it.
Gram.
Can you not guess?
Cast.
I cannot; nor let me longer
Importune to learn it from your self.
Gram.
Have you not some remembrance what yesterday
I said my Father had propos'd?
Cast.
Which you refus'd?
Gram.
Perhaps I did not.
Cast.
Did not what.
I mean what was not in your power t'accept.
Gram.
What's that?
Cast.
The Marriage.
Gram.
Why not in my power?
Cast.
Because it wou'd have been the highest Baseness.
Gram.
Are base things never done?
Cast.
You cou'd not do it.
Gram.
O Friend!
Cast.
I'll not believe it.
Gram.
You think too well of me.
Cast.
I'm sorry for't.
Gram.
Now then you know me rightly.
Cast.
Cou'd you—
Gram.
Urge not my Crime against me, it needs not;
Your awful Vertue checks, and strikes me deeper
Than your Reproaches can.
Cast.
I've thought too far; it can't be yet compleated;
You've only giv'n Hopes you wou'd comply,
Perhaps a Promise.
51
'Tis done; less had not gain'd my end,
Which partly is accomplish'd; you are free;
I had no other means of serving you.
Cast.
And did you think I priz'd my Honour less
Than Liberty, that I wou'd have it purchas'd
On dishonest Terms? You know Castalio
As little as I have hitherto known you.
Gram.
In what I did, I gratify'd my self,
Nor aim'd I at Acknowledgments from you.
Cast.
You might have made your own Advantage!
But what had I to do with your mean Tricks?
Was't not enough I suffer'd in my Friendship,
But you must undermine my Honour too,
And draw me for the Prize of Villany?
I'll not endure it.
Gram.
All the Dishonour's mine.
Cast.
Can I share the Profit, and not the Infamy!
Who is there seeing me enjoy this Freedom,
That will not think I'm pleas'd, nay, was Accomplice
In the Guilt that wrought it? The Air I breathe,
The every Step I tread reproaches me,
The Terms on which 'twas gain'd, 'twas basely done.
Gram.
There's not a Term that's vile enough for me;
But 'twas a Villany too much my own
To reach your Fame. How cou'd you be Accomplice?
Nor is it known what means was us'd to free you:
It can't reflect on you.
Cast.
It shall not;
I disdain t'accept inglorious Liberty:
Take back the shameful Ransom; I'll to Prison,
And resume my Chains; bestow the Purchase
Of your Treachery on Knaves, I'll none of it.
Gram.
Stay, stay, my Lord, there's yet a surer way
To clear your Fame, the Blood of him that stain'd it:
Take, take my Life, 'tis a just Sacrifice,
You owe it to your self, to Honour,
And the Name of Friend so long abus'd.
Cast.
Is this the Man
I call'd my Friend! And was I thus deceiv'd!
I find indeed Lamira well observ'd,
There's the least Truth, where most it does appear.
Ha! that thought has rouz'd one that alarms my Heart;
She said 'twas one esteem'd my Friend that wrong'd her;
Is't possible that he, the Man whom I
Preferr'd to all the World, shou'd be ordain'd
The Ruine of the only thing besides
That cou'd be dear to me!
52
What said you, do you love her?
Cast.
Whom, what her? 'Tis not Lamira thou'st abus'd.
Gram.
Nothing but this cou'd aggravate my Crime,
Or my Remorse; and was it wanting, Heav'n!
Must every Blow which I, or Fate strikes for me,
Fall heavier still on him Why, why is this!
Cast.
That I alone may have the right of Vengeance,
Which now my Injuries are ripe for: Traitor,
Defend thy Life.
Gram.
A Traitor's is not worth defending;
Freely I resign it; 'tis a Burthen
Which I wou'd bless the Hand that frees me from.
Cast.
Coward, thou wou'st preserve it; thou know'st I scorn
To take it thus unguarded.
Gram.
You ought to take it as a Criminals;
Nor dare I lift my Hand against a Man
Whom I have so much wrong'd, as if I meant
To justifie my Baseness.
Cast.
'Tis all the Satisfaction thou canst make,
And I demand it of thee.
Gram.
My Life I offer,
I open to your Point, and stand your Justice.
Cast.
Is't thus you shou'd maintain a Lady's Favours?
Not with this Coldness you receiv'd her Kindness,
Whilst in her Arms you revell'd. Death and Hell!
That such a Villain shou'd, tho' but one Moment,
Be possest of all that Bliss! O 'tis a Heav'n to think,
And 'twas all his, all the transporting Beauties
In his Power! Curst, torturing Thought!
Gram.
You causlesly torment your self: I've not possest.
Cast.
How's that? You said you had marri'd her.
Gram.
'Tis true; last night.
Cast.
And not possess! Come, doubly damn thy self,
Forswear the Wickedness thou hast committed;
Swear thou hast not enjoy'd her.
Gram.
I swear by all things Sacred.
Cast.
Thour't perjur'd.
Gram.
May then the Perjury be ne'er forgiv'n,
If I have falsly sworn.
Cast.
What cou'd prevent it?
'Tis unusual to leave a Bride
Upon the Wedding-night. Where were you then?
For I must know the truth.
Gram.
With her.
Cast.
Do you trifle with me?
Gram.
No; what I have sworn, is truth.
Cast.
Cou'd she be so reserv'd not to consent
53
Impossible!
Gra.
I did not ask.
Cast.
That's more impossible;
Do not abuse me
With a soothing Tale;
I am too much concern'd to be impos'd on,
And be assur'd will clear to the least doubt;
Answer me then, what hinder'd you to ask?
Gra.
My guilt already hung too heavy on me.
Cast.
But how? On what pretence? How wou'd she bear the slight?
Once more I say, I will not be deceiv'd;
Therefore 'twere vain t'attempt it—
But now I will be calm, and as a Friend,
Conjure you tell me punctually what past.
Gra.
I made some weak excuses, which, at first,
She seem'd to take, till having further prov'd
With little Arts the temper of my heart,
She imputed it to indifference for her,
Then grew suspicious of some prepossession
To which she thought her self a Sacrifice;
Some words that slipt from me confirm'd her in it,
And work'd her to a Rage, in which she left me.
Cast.
And did you calmly, firmly, stand all this!
Th'insinuations of her softer Passion,
Her pangs in Jelousie, and her Resentment,
What Man cou'd have the force!
Gra.
'Twas your good Genius, doubtless, gave it me,
I have nothing of my own, but Weakness, Baseness.
Cast.
This were enough to cancel yet a Greater,
To see her in the height of all her charms,
Loosned to Love, and languishing desire,
And not be tempted! By Heav'n, I think I had
My self been lost; not all my Honour cou'd
Have guarded me against so strong a Trial;
Instead of the Reproaches I design'd,
I must confess an awful Admiration,
Amaz'd and conscious of superior Virtue.
Gra.
What Virtue was't in me? I look'd not on her
With a Lover's Eyes: O that I had known you did,
But I was never worthy of your trust.
Cast.
Fearful of my success, I wou'd have hid
My weakness from my self, yet in the hopes
Bellgard might influence her, to him alone
I ventur'd to disclose it.
Gra.
To Bellgard!
Cast.
He promis'd to assist me with his Interest.
54
To assist you!
Cast.
You know his Power with her.
Gra.
Too well I know it; 'twas he propos'd, nay urg'd
This Fatal Marriage, which but for him
Wou'd never have been thought on.
Cast.
Is't possible?
Gra.
Most true.
Cast.
Perfidious! Bellgard, You have betray'd me basely.
[Enter Bellgard.
Bel.
Betray'd you!
Cast.
Basely I said, and thus maintain it; Draw.
Bel.
I scorn a Baseness; You tax me most Unjustly.
Cast.
Then right your self.
Bel.
My Sword wou'd be employ'd
Much better to my choice, against that Villain.
Cast.
If Villain be the Mark, mine is as well directed.
Bel.
Ha!
Cast.
Were you not Instrumental in his Marriage?
You press'd it on; nay, were the first Proposer.
Bel.
I was; but knew I then—
Cast.
You knew enough
To make it a base Injury to me,
If you dare vindicate the Treachery;
Guard well your Life, for that must answer it.
Bel.
What I have done will bear a calmer Test;
I wou'd be justifi'd, for yet I'm tame.
Cast.
Say rather, thou'rt a Coward.
Bel.
Provoke me not,
Or to your cost you'l find I am no Coward.
Cast.
I've found you to my cost a Viler thing;
Dissembling, False, and Faithless to your trust.
Bel.
As free from either as your self, Castalio.
Cast.
He that dares say it, Lies.
Bel.
Nay then—
[Bell. Draws. They fight, Gra. interposes.
Gra.
Bellgard!
Castalio! What means this Rashness? Am not I
The Cause of your Debate; the fittest object
Of your rage? On me your Points shou'd turn;
Or hear at least what each has to alledge;
My Lord, I beg you hold.
Cast.
You have your wish.
[Gram. accidentally wounds Cast.
Gra.
By all my Crimes, this cursed Hand has struck him!
Cast.
Methinks! I feel 'tis too the hand of Fate;
It seems to have reach'd at Life.
Gra.
Heav'n forbid!
But is it to be doubted? Did I e're
Endeavour the prevention of an Ill,
But I became the Cause, and made it surer?
55
A Curse attends the best designs of wicked Men,
And didst thou hope to prosper?
Gra.
Castalio! I have kill'd him; my blood is chill'd!
With horror of the Deed;
Now is it time
To sink me to th'abyss? Or I have yet
More mischiefs to perform?
Bel.
No, 'tis thy last;
But I must clear my self to you, Castalio;
Then for Revenge. Be witness for me Heav'n,
That I not only did acquit my self
With honour of the Trust reposed in me,
But with the Zeal of a most hearty Friend;
Nor ceas'd I till Lamira had declar'd
She never cou'd return your Love, and own'd
Her folly there.
Cast.
Gramont has every way been my destruction.
Gra.
What a Heart breaking sound! Was it for this
You sav'd my Life? Is this the best return
A Friend cou'd make? Happy for both you had
Been less a Friend, then you had liv'd to bless
Mankind, and I had dy'd without their Curse,
And all this weight of guilt upon my head:
But blood attones for blood, it shall be so.
O 'tis too sure! Life staggers in his Eyes!
Yet, yet support it, one moment to behold
A Justice done you.
Bel.
'Tis well thought on; haste then to give it him.
[Offering to fight.
Gra.
No more of that; you said I had done already
My last Mischief; now for the first good Action
Of my Life, this to Castalio's Wrongs.
[Stabs himself just as Roquelaure, Lam. and Felicia enter.
Cast.
'Tis too much.
Fel.
O Heav'n!
Lam.
Desperate remorse!
Roq.
O my Son!
Fel.
Now you are satisfy'd, now you have kill'd him;
Inhumane Brother, Tygers, Murderers, Devils!
Gra.
O my Dear! Thy Grief's my sharpest wound.
Fel.
Is this the Promise you in parting made me!
Gra.
Look there, and tell thy self if I cou'd keep it.
Fel.
Castalio Dying!
Gra.
Murder'd by this hand.
Cast.
An Accidental blow.
Roq.
Unhappy Son, of a more wretched Father!
Gra.
My Lord, a Dying Son dares ask forgiveness—
[Enter Bel.
Bernardo! Thou art come to imp my ascending prayers
With juster Imprecations: behold what I have done.
56
O my dear Lord!
Cast.
If thou hast lov'd me, express it not in grieving,
But in endeavouring to defend my Fame
Against the Malice of my Enemies.
Bern.
It needs not, the General's treachery is detected
By those he had suborn'd, and he disgrac'd,
A Messenger is from the King arriv'd,
Inviting both Gramont and you to Court,
With high Expressions of his Royal Favour;
And offers of what satisfaction you demand
For all your Injuries.
Cast.
Bear him my dying thanks; now I am ready:
'Tis enough my Honour will survive me,
And I was born to dye.
[Dies.
Gra.
O what a Wretch was I, that cou'd not wait
Heav'ns time; the Providence that never fails
Those who dare trust it, durst I have been honest,
One day had chang'd the Scene, and made me happy.
But O your Son, Felicia!
Roq.
I'll take him to my care.
I've been to blame in using thee so harshly;
But all that's thine shall find my kindness doubled;
Felicia's now my Daughter, as thy Wife,
She shall be dearest to me.
Gra.
Then all my cares are ended. Be happy, my Felicia,
If thou'dst have thy Husband's Spirit rest.
[Dies.
Roq.
He's gone for ever!
Fel.
O! O!
Roq.
'Tis Heav'ns will, my Child—Some help she swoons.
Lam.
How tenderly she lov'd him, poor Felicia!
[Fel. Swoon upon the body, Women, Attendants come about her.
Roq.
Pity from one who needs it more her self!
What Reparation can be made, Lamira?
Lam.
The World can make me none; there's nothing here
But a Vissicitude of Miseries:
If there is any Joy that's permanent,
It must be in that calm, that heavenly State,
To which my future days are dedicated.
Bell.
'Tis the best Asylum for humane Frailty,
Of which Gramont is a most strange Example,
He was by Nature Honest, Just, and Brave,
In many Trials shew'd a steady Virtue;
Yet by one sharp Assault at last was vanquish'd;
None know their Strength, let the most Resolute
Learn from this Story to distrust themselves,
Nor think by Fear the Victory less sure,
Our greatest Danger's, when we're most secure.
| Fatal Friendship | |