University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

Enter Morella and Melinda.
Mel.
Why do we leave Fabiano with Placentia?
I dare trust all his Vertues, but his Prudence.
He loves—he'll stay too long; and be discover'd.

Morel.
Fear not, my Brother's busie with two Fathers,
And tho' Placentia loves, she shuns her Lover;
Like him she languishes, unhappy Maid;
But her Discretion, and yet more her Vow,
Force that despairing Lord for ever from her—
And see, she comes; he follows;—both in Tears!
In pity let's avoid 'em.

Enter Placentia, follow'd by Fabiano.
[Exeunt Morel. and Mel.
Fab.
Stay, cruel Maid! Oh turn, and cast one look!
One look, tho' 'twere a Frown, and but to see me dye.

Pla.
Alas, I dare not, must not meet your Eyes:
They must not see how mine partake their Sorrows.
Fly, fly, my Lord, where equal Greatness calls
Leave poor Placentia to her humble Fate.

Fab.
Not hear me!

Pla.
I dread those Words that make ev'n ruine please,
The tempting Musick of your Syren Love.

Fab.
Can it bring ruine to be match'd to Greatness?

Pla.
When by the Match that Greatness is debas'd.

Fab.
Why will you still urge this, too humble fair?
Oh! wrong not thus your Merit, and my Love.

Pla.
Witness, ye sacred Pow'rs that read my Soul!
Witness, my Blushes, and these grateful Tears,
How much I prize you, gen'rous, dear Fabiano!
For ev'ry Sigh you breath, I Sigh another.
Oh! had our Births been equal as our Passions,
We might have lov'd on still.
I see the Heav'n of Joy, your Love, wou'd give me;
But, like a Wretch condemn'd to endless Torments,
The vast abyss between, adds to my Pain:
I wish, I sigh, I grieve, I rage in vain;
I wou'd ascend, but cannot break my Chain.

Fab.
Love equals all, and you're most sure of mine.

Pla.
I still shou'd fear to lose what I deserve not,
Still dread my Equal's Envy, and the Scorn of yours:
And thus shou'd live more wretched yet than now,
This fatal now, that sees me tear my Heart,
While thus I tear my self for ever from you.

[going.
Fa.
You tear my Heart, but shall not tear me from you.
[kneels
Thus you shall drag me, while I suffer Life;
And when I've eas'd my wretched Soul with this,
[Draw a Dagger.
'Twill hover o're you still, to wait for yours.
For sure in Death we're equal, and may joyn.

Pla.
Oh! hold! and rise! fright me not with your Danger,
Nor humble me yet more with your Submissions.

Fab.
Raise then at once a Wretch to Love and You.
To rise thus, I'll descend, and mix with humble Swains,
In lowly Cottages, and rustick Weeds,
And there forget that fatal thing call'd Greatness.

Pla.
Oh! rise, degrade it not by kneeling thus.

Fab.
No, let your Answer make me rise or fall.

Pla.
Alas! my Lord, I know this wou'd but prove
A Dream, that might a while indulge your Fancy,
While Mem'ry wou'd lye lock'd in the first sleep
That Love might lull it too; but too too soon
You'd wake to hatred of your self and me.

Enter D. Ferdinand.
Fab. starts and rises.
Ferd.
My Son!
Base Man! I thought t'have found you with Morella!
But hear me swear; By my great Ancestors!
That Hour Fabiano weds below his Rank
Makes him a Stranger to my Blood for ever.

Pla.
You might have spar'd that just, but rigid Doom,
And left my Love the Glory of our parting.
For, Sir, I love your Son; so well I love him,
That rather than I'll curse his gen'rous Passion,
By suffering him to bless me with himself,
I'll leave my Wealth, Friends, nay, the dear Man for ever.
Bear witness, you whose Breasts confess the Pangs
Of truest, tend'rest, fondest, fiercest Love!
Bear witness, Heav'n! and all that hear me swear!
I leave ev'n him, ev'n all that's kind and dear,
For endless Grief, a Cloyster and Despair.

[Exit.
Fab.
My Love!—my Father!—both conspire my Ruine!
Some Angel stop her, and recall your Vows!
No pity—yes, you're kind, at once you kill me,
And thus will quickly end the worst of Pains.

Fer.
Unequal Nuptials show not Love, but Madness.
If you're my Son, leave this ignoble Creature.

Fab.
Leave her! ignoble! give me Patience, Heav'n!
And Duty check my Rage! a Father said it.
Oh! that you knew her, Sir! you'd see in her,
That Worth, whence true Nobility began:
She claims a Birth immediately from Heav'n.

Fer.
No more. She never shall be yours.
Haste to Morella, Noble, and more Charming.

Fab.
Ah Sir! I can love nothing but Placentia.
Rather take back the wretched Life you gave me!
[kneels.
Draw, draw your Sword, rip up my panting Bosom;
You'll find a Heart where that sad Truth is written.
Pity my Youth! pity your Son!—

Fer.
'Tis vain—Reason and Time will bring you to your self.

Fab.
Oh stay!

[follows him crawling on his Knees.
Fer.
Away—comply, or never see me more.

[Ferd. breaks from Fabiano, and Exit.
Fab.
Yes, cruel Father; yes, unkind Placentia,
I'll never see you more—
You shall not see how wretched you have made me.
I've one Friend yet, I hope; his Ship shall cast me
On some abandon'd Shore: There I will dye;
Pitied, perhaps, by Beasts more kind than Man.
More wife, more happy Brutes, I envy you!
With you 'tis Will and Beauty make the choice,
Ne're crost by the lov'd Female, nor your Syres.
No dream of Greatness bars your am'rous Joys.
Curst be the first who made the vain distinction,
Taught to boast borrow'd Fame from ancient Dust,
That fancied Distance between equal Emmets!
Curst be the poys'nous Notion, and may he
That slights true Merit for a vain Degree,
Love humble Worth, be scorn'd, or curs'd like me.
And that the Vice an ampler Curse may find,
Curst be th'Ambitious, which is all Mankind.

[Exit.
Enter Placentia, as Fabiano goes off.
Pla.
His busie Grief usurp'd his very Sight.
He's gone, and cou'd not see me; wou'd he had!
Alas! I shou'd, I wou'd have call'd, but cou'd not.
Who will protect me now?—Oh! noble Moor,
Assist me to preserve my threaten'd Honour.

Enter Morat and Zemet.
Mor.
Can worth, like yours, want a Protector, Madam?
My best Friend us'd me so to eccho back his Sighs,
When he repeated dying Tales of you,
That he has fill'd my Breast with the like Zeal
Of serving you: That Zeal may look like Love;
But, fear not, Madam, rarely Love gets in
But at some Chink where Hope had crept in first,
And I who know how you us'd Don Vincentio
Can never hope this Figure cou'd prevail.
Then give me leave to serve you, and my Actions
Shall ne're oppose the Dictates of your Will.

Pla.
It were a Sin to doubt your Honour, Sir.
Let your Man wait—and I will tell you Things
That are yet Secrets to all Souls but mine.

Mor.
Zemet observe who comes, and give us notice.

[Exit Zemet.
Pla.
Let guilty Persons blush: I have no Cause:
The Passion I must own admits no Shame;
Tho' I confess, I Love: Oh Noble Moor!
You will have Cause to pity me as much
As e're you did Vincentio.

Mor.
Do I live?—
[Aside, and starting.
Or have I chang'd my Being with my Form?

Pla.
What shou'd surprize the Moor?—Sir, tho' I want
Your help, or such a Friend's, yet let not that
Divert your Thoughts from your own great Concerns.

Morat.
No, Madam, these are Fits that sometimes shake me:
My Soul and Body are by turns at odds,
And fain wou'd part;
Yet, like false Friends, each strives not to be thought
To give most Cause for such a Separation:
But now I'm well again—you say you Love, Madam,
And that I shall have Cause to pity you.
Sure, he that is the Cause, is Deaf and Blind;
Else either Sence, and You, might teach him Love.

Pla.
Nay, I'm so miserable, worthy Moor,
That 'twas his Passion that gave birth to mine:
But, as Fate orders it, all I've to beg,
Is that you wou'd convey me to some Cloyster,
Where I may ever weep and pray for him.

Mor.
aside.]
Sure 'tis for me, 'tis for the poor Vincentio
She thus wou'd weep and pray. Oh wou'd it were!
To Pla.]
Madam, I'm bound to wait on your Commands;
But can there be a Cause for such Despair?

Pla.
Too many, Sir, for had not Fate contriv'd
To snatch him, and all Hopes, for ever from me,
Yet I too well regard his future Glory,
E're to have sullied it with my mean Blood.

Mor.
aside.]
'Tis my self—
It can be no Man else she thus despairs for.
First she shall name me, then I'll own my self.
To Pla.]
Madam, you may well trust me with his Name,
That can be happy thus in spight of Fate.

Pla.
I will not hide his Name, from one that knows
So much of his Concerns: 'Tis—

Enter Zemet.
Zem.
Ricardo's coming.

Pla.
Heav'n guard me from his sight!—

Morat.
I'll strive to meet you here again with speed.
Curse on his coming! But why am I troubl'd?
[Exit Plac.
By what she said, 'tis plain 'tis me she means.
Revive, Vincentio! Doubts and Fears remove!
She must be mine, since she confesses Love.
The Man that's lov'd, of Conquest never fails:
Love pleads, and bribes, and forces, and prevails.
[Ex. Morat.

Zem.
Ricardo seem'd dejected; I'll observe him.

Enter Ricardo.
Ri.
This Mine brings Instant ruine when 'tis sprung;
It rends the main Foundation of my Greatness.
Sees Zemet.]
Ha! thou black Imp, what do'st thou here?
Hence vanish!
[Exit Zemet.
They and their Papers will so prove the Thing,
There will be no out-facing it—Oh curst Discovery!
This Morning in the Sanctuary I trembl'd.
E're Noon I revel'd as sole Master here:
Yet now, e're Six at Night, these Monks have rung
A fatal Knell to all my new-born Joys.
With this Day's Sun my Fortune rose and falls.
But with the next may it not rise again?
They've giv'n me time to get my Pardon seal'd,
E're they divulge the Truth—I'll have them kill'd—
But how? by this they're in their Cells at Prayers.
No, I must think again—assist me, Hell,—I have it.
At Night for Africa I'll Ship the Sisters,
Where I will marry one, and then return.
But why not get Placentia? There I'll fix:
Placentia shall be mine.

Enter Morat and Zemet.
Ri.
Hah!—

Starts seeing Morat.
Mor.
Does your Guilt make you start?

Ri.
Art thou Immortal, Moor?

Mor.
Yes, Ravisher, all good Men are Immortal.
Death is entail'd on none but such as you,
Who wear him still about you in your Crimes,
Yet justly fear him as the greatest Evil.

Ric.
Placentia has inform'd him of my Threats.

[Aside.
Mor.
Base Man, with Gyant Blood, and Pigmy Honour,
I hear thou talk'st of Ravishing Placentia,
But if thou dar'st but wish it, that bad Soul,
That Soul of thine, hard and impenetrable
To ev'ry thing that's good, shall be let out
To seek its place among relentless Devils.

Ri.
aside.]
Sleep my Resentments! now my Fortune's chang'd.
To him.]
I loath the Thought, tho' once I threaten'd it,
To try her Vertue; but, since that, my Doubts
Are chang'd to admiration of her Worth.

Mor.
Oh that there were but hopes you yet wou'd mend!
I'm bound, and strive to love you, as you're call'd
Vincentio's Brother, and his Father's Son.
In War's brave School, your Father was my Master;
Who bad me dare, and taught me how to Fight.
He rush'd like Light'ning on firm Troops of Foes,
Unnerv'd their Ranks, and shatter'd them to Ruine,
And floor'd the Field with honourable Slaughter:
But after Conquest, mild as tender Virgins,
Protected Vertue in his very Foes—
If you'll be Noble, learn to act like him.

Ri.
I'll learn of you, brave Moor, if you will teach me,
Your words can shame and charm us into Vertue.
Methinks your Tongue, like glorious Victory,
Instils a Soul of Valour through my Veins,
And all my Nerves seem knit with double force.
I'm now engag'd, but in an Hour,
I shall be proud of being taught by you,
And fixing you my Friend.

Mor.
Till then, farewel.
Love truly, and I'll give you leave to hope;
For as your Love encreases, Vertue will.
'Twas Love alone first Civiliz'd Mankind,
And dull Instinct to sprightly sense refin'd.
In Savage Nakedness Man liv'd and toyl'd,
Uglier than Brutes, more wretched, and as wild;
Till Emulation to be lik'd and lov'd,
Started Invention, and the Man improv'd:
But 'tis not Love, weak Bodies to controul,
Love only triumphs o're the stronger Soul.

[Exit Morat. and Min.
Ri.
I'll strive to work thee to my purpose, Moor.
Thou'rt brave, but free and credulous to a Fault—
For ruin'd Laura's good, and more for mine,
I wish Placentia may with equal ease
Be wheadled into Marriage! startling change!
She little thinks she's great, and I am nothing;
Oh! I cou'd rave and bellow Execrations.
Hell curse these Monks, emphatically curse 'em—

Enter Four Bravoes.
Ri.
My Bravoes!

1. Bravo.
Your Lordship's Servants.

Ri.
I sent for you to punish a rude Moor,
But I'll suspend a while my just Revenge:
I've business of more Moment. There's Gold for you.

[Ric. gives 'em Money.
1. Br.
Thanks, my good Lord, whose Throat must we cut now?

Ri.
There's milder mischief Brooding.
Hire me a Ship, that by use of Oars
As well as Sails, may put to Sea this Night.
At any rate, by any means I must
Have it to Night, and you shall go with me.
Succeed, and your Reward shall be so great
You shall no longer skulk disguis'd; but live
At large, above the scandal of your Lives.

1. Br.
Conclude this done, my Lord; our Friends will help us.
If by fair means we cannot get a Ship, we'll seize on one.

Ri.
Success wait on my Friends!

[Exit Bravoes.
Enter a Servant, with a Letter in his Hand.
Ri.
What Letter's this?

Serv.
My Lord, 'tis for Placentia.

[Exit Servant, Ric. opens and reads the Letter
Ri.
Go, I'll deliver it—ha! from Fabiano!—
How? leaving Portugal for ever! Embark this Moment!
By my hopes 'tis well!

Enter Laura.
[Ricardo seems surpriz'd, and puts up the Letter hastily.
Ri.
Hah!—my Soul's Joy, I did not expect you here.

Lau.
I read that in your Eyes, my Lord, but I
Expected you, tho' 'twas in vain, I fear.
What Letter were you reading?

Ri.
'Tis private business.

Lau.
I desire to see it.

Ri.
Wou'd you be made uneasie with my Cares?

Lau.
Unless I see't, I shall be more uneasie.

Ri.
Trust me, my Love, you need not, nay you shall not,
Tho' ev'n from you I must a while conceal it.

Lau.
From me! Can you conceal it then from me?

Ri.
Suppose it were a Challenge from a Foe,
Or a more dang'rous Secret from a Friend?

Lau.
Say rather from a Mistress: false Ricardo.

Ri.
Will you still chide, and without Reason still?

Lau.
False and Ingrate, I have but too much reason;
Yet if I chide, I chide but like a Dove,
In gentle Murmurs. But urge me no longer.
Give me the Letter, for I rave to see it.

Ri.
What, will you still controul me like a Slave?
Will you still claim so insolent a Right?

Lau.
Traytor to Gratitude, to Love, and me,
What is't I claim, but leave to be assur'd
Of thy Heart's Truth, or of its Falshood rather?
For now I've too much Cause to think thee false.

Ri.
Your Jealousie, that Jaundice of your Mind,
Perverts all Objects to it's sickly Colour.

Lau.
What, are my Charms then vanish'd with my Fortune?—
'Twas otherwise when this base Rebel languish'd at my Feet,
Trembling as Guilt, humble as begging Want;
Charm'd with a Look, transported with a smile,
And extasied with a reviving Word.
Love gently rack'd all Secrets from his Breast,
Made him live more in me than in himself,
Prevent my very Wish, and open all his Soul.
Did it not Traytor?

Ri.
It did, it shall, my Life, then pray be calmer.

Lau.
And have I made thee Lord of all my Wishes,
Given thee my Wealth, and my more valued Love,
To be deny'd a Trifle?
Base Man, dare but be false, dare but deny me,
I'll Sacrifice thee to my injur'd Charms,
Tho' thou wert kneeling at the very Altar—
Give me the Letter.

Ri.
Since nothing else will satisfie you, take it.
'Tis only from Fabiano to Placentia;
For whom he's leaving Portugal by stealth.
You see, he begs this may not yet be known—
Puzzled.]
Then—I'ad a mind—to try your Jealous Temper—
And fear'd—it might incline you—to misconstrue
My Caution in thus op'ning a Love-Letter
To one that's a Dependant on my House.

Lau.
Hah! sure you love her, or your guilty Mind,
Which so long labour'd for a faint Excuse,
Had ne're suggested such prepost'rous Doubts.
You seem'd surpriz'd too at my sight; your Face
Had scarce the Pow'r to shape a gay Disguise.

Ri.
To clear at once my Innocence, permit me
To send for her—Who waits?

Enter Servant.
Serv.
My Lord—

Ri.
Acquaint Placentia, that I'm here, and have a Letter for her.
[Exit Servant.
My Life, from yonder Closet if you please,
You may behold unseen
Our mutual hatred in her looks and mine.

[Lau. steps aside.
Enter Placentia, Morella, Melinda.
Ri.
aside.]
She's here! This news will strangely grieve her—
To Pla.]
You're well attended.

Pla.
So we shou'd be to come to you, my Lord.
Your Pleasure?

Ri.
Here's a Letter from Fabiano,—who's fled by Sea.

[Gives her the Letter, she reads it.
Pla.
Oh killing News!

Morel.
Poor parted Lovers! how I pity them!

Pla.
Is he then fled? fled without seeing me?
Fled my Fabiano? Oh! 'twas too too cruel.
Thy last farewel wou'd pain me worse than Death;
Yet I wou'd suffer more for one dear parting look—
But sure I wrong thee; we cou'd ne're have born it.
How my Soul mourns, Some Dream or Angel tell thee!
My Soul! oh no! 'tis fled with thee, and Grief
Alone informs this Widdow'd falling Body.

[falls.
Morel.
Rise, rise, my Dear.

Mel.
Sink not beneath your Sorrows.

Pla.
Let me dye here; for I've out-liv'd my self.
Break, throbbing Heart! break now! break! what, not yet!
Well, stubborn Life, I'll punish thee for lasting,
Melt thee away in Tears, and breathe thee out in Sighs;
'Till I'm grown of one Substance with my Grave.
She's rais'd]
I'll drag thee where thou shalt converse with nothing
But Walls, and Heav'n, and Sorrow, and his Image.
Off then, gay Dress! vain Pageantry, away!
Thou once lov'd House, where my Years rowl'd so smoothly,
Adieu for ever!—adieu, my dear, my only Friends!
Adieu to all but Grief, and the dear thoughts of him.
He's lost, he's lost, and Pleasure is no more.

Morel.
Let's follow her, and strive to calm her Mind.

[Ex. Placentia, Morel. and Mel.
Ri.
Prevent her going out.

[Aside to a Servant.
Serv.
I will, my Lord.
[Exit Servant.

Ri.
to Laura, who comes forward.]
You see the Love between us.

Lau.
Did I not dread her, I cou'd pity her,

Ri.
Grieve not for her, my Love.
A Widow'd Nymph of Course a while Despairs,
But nothing dries so soon as Woman's Tears.
Clouds dull the Sun, then fall apace in Rain,
And sprightlier Smiles adorn his Face again.
Such, now your doubts are clear'd, you shou'd appear,
And with kind Looks your Injur'd Lover chear.

Lau.
Were those Doubts clear'd—

Ri.
Unkind! now I must chide. What, Jealous still?

Lau.
Still Jealous, since still Loving.

Ri.
But I've a sure way left to ease your Mind.

Lau.
How?—

Ri.
Let to Morrow be our Nuptial Day.

Lau.
To Morrow!

Ri.
Yes, we'll wave tedious State. Hymen shall bless us.
Oh! let me seal that Promise on your Lips;
Thus, thus your Doubts shall all be lost in Joys,
And kiss'd away as oft as they return.

Lau.
Shall I still doubt—no, tho' I still had Cause,
I must believe thy dear bewitching Tongue.
Conduct me home, and oh! forgive me, my Ricardo.
I cannot bear a Rival in your Heart.
While Woman must to one confine her Love,
Why shou'd Man claim the Privilege to rove?
We cou'd dispense with Change as well as you:
Women lose more than Men by being true.
Yet tho' you blame our Sex, yours most deceives;
Man leaves us oft, but Woman seldom leaves.
Be just then, urge us not to change of Mind!
Or give us leave to rove, or be your selves confin'd.

[Exeunt.