 | Beauty in Distress |  |
ACT III.
Enter Placentia in a plain white Dress—Morella and Melinda.Pla.
Why am I thus detain'd? Now in this Dress
I'm fitted for a Cloyster: Oh! Fabiano!
Thou leav'st the Land, I'll leave the World for thee.
Morel.
Oh! grieve us not, by grieving thus your self.
Society in Woes will make them lighter,
But ours grow heavier while we share your Load.
Pla.
I'd silence my rude Grief, wou'd it be silenc'd;
But tender Love, Love newly wean'd, and hopeless
Will, like all other Infants, pine and rage,
Tho' check'd by Reason that denies the Food.
Enter Ricardo.
Ri.
Where, where's the Chaste Placentia? Sisters, tell her
I'll crown at last the Vertue which I try'd.
What, all in Tears? She too in this mean Dress?
You feed her Grief. Away! I say, be gone.
[Ex. Mor. and Mel.
Leave Tears and Cloysters, Madam, to those Wretches
Whom the World leaves, and who must leave the World;
Who surfeit first, then practice Abstinence,
Turn Nuns, and then repent their rash Repentance.
'Tis true, my Brother's dead, Fabiano's gone;
But I am left more charm'd with your Perfections.
Pla.
I pray you, leave me.
24
Look not on me as being still the same;
Behold your Convert, Madam, 'twas impossible
To love you, and love Vice, which you detest.
You, and my change of Fortune, have at last,
Made me reflect, and rous'd me into Vertue.
My Threats were but to try you.
Pla.
I shall rejoyce, my Lord, to find the Change,
Tho' tis ill jesting in the shape of Vice;
“For 'twill be long before I shall shake off,
“The horror that surprise stamp'd on my Soul.
In the mean time, I beg you'll give me leave
In some Retirement to compose my Mind.
Ri.
Oh! leave me not, blest Maid, “You're my good Angel,
“That bear me upwards, govern my best Thoughts,
“And bid me think of Heav'n, and view it in you.
“But, if you leave me, e're my Callow Vertue
“Grows fledg'd, and strong to soar with outstretch'd Wings,
“Too soon my dead habitual weight of Vice
“Will make me flag, and fall to worse Perdition.
“Take me now, save a Soul, confirm me yours.
“O save me, lest you answer it to Heav'n.
A Priest, a known Priest, waits to joyn our Hands.
Oh come! I will not leave you till you've blest me.
Pla.
What means my Lord! Oh Heav'ns! what shall I say!
Yes, I will bless you—if you'll let me go.
But as for marrying you, forbid it Love!
Forbid it Honour! and forbid it Heav'n!
“This wou'd be cursing you, and then my self.
“Change, rather change this dreadful Love to Hatred!
Ri.
I've play'd the Tyrant, but I know you're mild
As a forgiving Saint. Here on my Knees,
(But that's too proud a Posture) thus then falling
With prostrate Body, and more humbled Mind,
Repentant, chang'd Ricardo, begs your Pardon.
Pla.
Oh rise, my Lord! 'twas granted e're you ask'd it.
Ri.
Oh! add your Love, or let me sink for ever.
Pla.
My Lord, I must not, cannot hear you thus.
Ri.
Thus have I sworn to kiss your Steps, and dye,
Unless this Day, this very Day you're kind,
Stoop to be mine, and condescend to rise.
Pla.
Alas! I too have sworn, this ne're shall be.
Ri.
I'll beg so earnestly, so humbly,—
Pla.
My Lord, I thought you knew Placentia better.
Spare this affected Cringing! 'twou'd be vain,
25
So quick a fall from one extream to t'other,
Betrays less Love than a Distemper'd Mind.
Ri.
rises.]
'Tis true, I'm craz'd, I'm mad, mad as wild Frenzy,
To starve my noble Pride, to glut a Slave's.
Why, cruel Stars, why do I court this Creature,
This Insect, born to crawl and lick the Dust,
Till foster'd here, ungratefully to sting me?
Oh! I cou'd burst, and tear my Flesh with Rage.
But why do I not rather crush it dead?
Pla.
Murther! Oh save me!—
[She wou'd run off, he stops her.
Ri.
None but your self can save, or you or me.
You shall be wretched, if you'll make me so:
“For, good or bad, you now must share my Fate.
This Steel, or else this Juice, shall end us both.
[Shews her a Bottle and a Dagger.
'Tis like the poys'nous Love I suck'd from thee;
No Antidote can stop the Bane's Progression;
It creeps thro' ev'ry Vein, preys on the Blood,
And ling'ring gives a sure, tho' lazy Death.
Relent, or now I drink, and thou shalt pledge me.
Pla.
Oh Horror! hold! let's parley o're our Fate.
Give me some time, my Lord, I beg it on my Knees,
A Month, a Week, a Day; Oh Mercy! Mercy!—
Ri.
No, it must be this Instant now.
Pla.
What shall I say? I dye with Terror.
O hold! oh think of Hell, my Lord—
Ri.
Hell's mild to what I feel.
Pla.
I can but dye
[He keeps the Bottle close to his Mouth.
Ri.
I've drank the Liquid Death. Now chuse thy Fate.
Pla.
Oh lost! lost!
Ri.
Chuse quickly, or—
Pla.
Oh! give me time to pray.
Ri.
The Poyson will do that.
Pla.
I thought 'twas but to try me.
But give it me. 'Tis th'only welcome present
You cou'd have made me, and I thank you for't.
I only wish my dear, my lost Fabiano,
Thou coud'st have seen these Tears, the best return,
My niggard Fate wou'd suffer me to make thee.
Oh! if a helpless, friendless, dying Maid
May form a wish! oh hear me, hear me Heaven!
26
And, if another e're can love so well,
Let some chaste noble Beauty love him thus,
And make him happier than I've made him wretched.
Enter Fabiano, thrusting away some Servants, and runs to Placentia.
Fab.
Hence! Slaves! she's here.
Pla.
Hah!—
Ri.
Return'd!
Fab.
Yes, here to dye. Look up, my Life, my Soul,
[He Embraces her.
Placentia, see 'tis I, 'tis thy Fabiano,
Pla.
'Tis he; some Angel brings him—my lov'd Lord—
[She drops the Bottle.
Fab.
My Fate—
[They Embrace.
Pla.
Oh! I forget my Fears, my Grief, my very self,
At this dear sight.
Fab.
Senses awake! and thou my wand'ring Soul,
Unwind thy self out of this maze of Joy.
Art thou at large, or in Placentia's Arms?
Ri.
Must I bear this? my Lord, what do you mean?
Fab.
To kill you, if you dare once more disturb me.
Ri.
You're in my House, but—
Fab.
What?
Ri.
I'll say no more—I fear his Greatness now, tho' not
His Sword
[Aside.
Pla.
Tho' Love had not betray'd me into Fondness,
Revenge it self had don't, to plague this Monster;
To make his Eyes drink Jealousies worst Poyson,
More gnawing than the Draught he swallow'd now,
Or that which he design'd me.
Fab.
How!—
Ri.
No Poyson, Madam, nothing but a Philtre,
A Lover's harmless Trick to fright and win you.
To ease your Mind, I'll send for her that made it.—
And for some others too—
(Aside.)
[Exit Ricardo.
Pla.
I dread his coming back.
Fab.
Fear nothing, Madam,
I've a Friend waits without with some choice Men.
Pla.
I thought I never shou'd have seen you more.
Where have you been? Why did you write that Letter?
27
I wou'd have dy'd, but pitying Heav'n reserv'd me
For this blest Moment, e're we part for ever,
For we must part.
Fab.
Part! no, first let the Monarch part with Crowns,
The Brave with Honour, and the Saint with Heav'n.
Pla.
Oh Reason, Honour, Duty!—
Fab.
Oh Love! Love! Love! great Love against them all.
Pla.
I've sworn to leave you; nor must I examine
Whether I shall outlive the killing loss.
Fab.
No, you will not leave me: I will ne're believe it:
Placentia loves me—Placentia will not let me dye.
Pla.
Sure Heav'n will forgive this Sally of a Heart,
Startled and wild with Joy, this Riot of starv'd Love,
Tho' rigid Honour dares not warrant it.
Oh! lead me quickly to the Convent, that—
Re-enter Ricardo.
Ri.
She whom I sent for, Madam, will soon tell you—
Fab.
Nothing that can deserve our stay—farewel—
Leading out Placentia.
Ri.
Stay, do not lead my beauteous Charge to Ruine.
Fab.
She's led from Ruine, when she's led from you.
Ri.
Hold! hear me! for I'll here dispute my Right.
Fab.
Then somewhere else, and not with Words dispute it.
Ri.
Tho' now with Words, some fitter time with this.
[Shows his Sword.
I claim her as my due. I best deserve her.
Fab.
Who e're pretends Desert, deserves her least.
Ri.
She's oblig'd to my Family.
Fab.
But I'm oblig'd to her.
Ri.
You've nothing; but I've an Estate to give her.
Fab.
I chuse to lose one for her. But that's little;
I'd give the Globe to bribe her to a Smile.
Pla.
Oh! cease so needless a Debate, my Lords;
Nor rate so high a worthless Maid's Esteem.
Know both, I'd sworn, before I knew your Love,
Never to wed above my Rank—I'm going to a Cloyster.
Then, if you love me, shew it now, my Lords.
Be pleas'd to leave me there.
Ri.
No, Madam, I'll sooner leave the World.
Fab.
Let me conduct you, Madam.
28
Hold!
Fab.
Forbear, or in your very House I'll kill you.
Ri.
Hah! Will you break the Laws of Hospitality?
Fab.
Talk'st thou of Hospitality, and dar'st
Detain her there? 'tis Sacrilege and Death.
Draw, Fight, and Dye.
[He draws.
Pla.
Oh hold!
Ri.
Tho' I dare fight, why shou'd I leave to Chance
What Prudence can secure?
[Aside.
The shortness of my Sword makes you insult, but—
Fab.
Give it me, and take mine.
[Fabiano gives him his Sword, and takes his in the Scabbard.
Ri.
Take it, and use it if you can—
Pla.
Oh! hold, my Lords!
Fab.
A broken Sword! hah! Villain!
[He draws the Sword, which appears to be a broken Blade.
Ri.
Stir not, be silent, hear me, and you're safe.
Live happy with my Sister, I with her;
But dye, if you persist t'obstruct my Bliss.
Pla.
Oh! wed her, wed her, tho' I dye my Lord.
Fab.
I'll yet disarm thee, Traytor.
[Fabiano with the broken Sword strives to close with Ricardo.
Ri.
I wou'd not kill thee! Who waits!—
Enter four Servants, with Swords.
Ri.
Seize that Mad-man.
[Fabiano snatches a Sword from one of 'em and keeps 'em off.
Fab.
What, hoa! my Friends!
Pla.
Help, Murther! help!—
Enter Captain, with two others, who fight Ricardo's Party.
Cap.
Courage, my Lord, we're here! Slaves! Villains! dye.
Enter Don Ferdinand, with Musqueteers, who present, and all the Combatants cease Fighting.
Fer.
Hold! or my Guards shall fire among you.
Ri.
'Tis well you're come at last, my Lord, your Son
Was forcing his way out with this ungrateful Maid,
To wed her, and leave Portugal by Sea.
29
I scarce believ'd the Messenger you sent me:
Nay, now I scarce believe my very Eyes.
What, my Reproof, my Counsel, my Commands,
My Pray'rs, my Threats, my Oaths, all unregarded?
It cannot be; Fabiano is my Son:
My Son wou'd not at once lose Wealth, lose Honour,
Lose my Love, lose my Blessing,
A Father's Love, and Blessing, for a Trifle;
For all this he must lose, or leave this Maid,
To wed my nobler choice, the fair Morella.
Fab.
Thus, as to Heav'n, to you, Sir, kneels your Son;
And that Heav'n knows, I scarce can reverence it,
More than I do my Father. Oh! I'd lose
The Life you gave me, rather than your Blessing.
But Love, like mine, is deaf Necessity;
'Tis Fate it self, and who can alter Fate?
If Love's a Crime in me, 'tis its own Punishment:
For hope, that soften'd all its Pains, is lost.
Then curse me not yet more: alas! your Blessing
Is all your wretched Son has left to lose.
For soon he'll take his everlasting leave
Of Friends, of you, of her, and Life, I hope.
Fer.
Rise, hear Age speak! Fabiana! Wisdom's old.
Fab.
My Lord, my Father,
Oh! let me kneeling thus attend your Will.
Fer.
Rise, rise, my Son, nor let thy poor old Father
Lose the sole Comfort of his widow'd Years.
Thou art my only Child. Alas! I liv'd
But by the hopes of seeing thee renew
The Glories of our Race, by equal Marriage.
Have I for this declin'd a second Choice,
And liv'd in solitary Widowhood?
Oh! do not hurry thus thy self and me
To the dark Grave, and worse Oblivion's Death.
I beg it, 'tis thy Father begs it. See these Tears,
They're the last drops, the dying hand of Age
Has left to dew this drooping with'ring Plant—Oh speak!
Fab.
Can Nature plead against it self?
I cannot speak: my throbbing Heart's too full.
Fer.
Then kill me, cruel Son; that Parricide
Will be less barb'rous than the other—speak!
Fab.
Then with obedient boldness I must own, I cannot wed Morella.
30
Just Heav'n! what have I done? what are my Crimes?
That I must thus be punish'd with this Son?—
But sure he's not my Son: Such Disobedience,
Such Meanness, must and shall be Strangers to my Blood.
Now, as I hate base Thoughts, he's rous'd my Rage.
Degenerate Boy, thou scandal to my Race,
Retract thy words, consent, lest, in my Fury,
I wrong the dead, and ev'n suspect thy Mother.
Fab.
Oh! use me as you please; but spare my Mother!
For your own sake, for hers, tread gently on her Grave.
Fer.
No, she was Vertue's self, but sure some Peasant
Impos'd thee on me, and displac'd the Heir.
Be banish'd then my House, my Heart, my Thoughts!
Be stript of all—
Fab.
But my Placentia's Love:
You cannot take that from me.
Fer.
Tortures and Daggers! Wretch, lose all but that.
Ri.
aside to Ferd.]
My Lord, let him rave on.
He's lost all use of Reason in this Fit
Of Love's high Fever; but it cannot last.
Leave him with me, I'll watch its Crisis and Declension.
First, I'll remove the Cause, this fatal Charmer,
Then soon my Sister shall restore his Reason.
Fer.
'Tis well advis'd—Guards stay—obey my Lord.
Curst be this Frantick Love, that rashly hurries
Unequal Pairs into the Nuptial Noose!
How bitter proves the fair forbidden Fruit!
How lost, how naked Man then finds himself!
How short, how false the Bliss, how long the Woe;
A few good Nights, a thousand dismal Days.
Then the fierce Lover grows a tame dull Husband,
And the kind Mistress a vexatious Wife.
How like an Ass, how like himself he looks,
Wishing to part, more than he did to joyn;
While Wife and Husband curse th'unequal state,
Wedded for Love, then Cuckolded for Hate.
[Exit Ferd.
Ri.
Retire you tempting Mischief to your Chamber.
Pla.
Oh! rather to a Cell.
Ri.
Leave that to me.
Pla.
Oh! once more let me see him.
Ri.
You shall not see him more.
[Fabiano who was talking to the Captain, runs suddenly to prevent her going out.
31
See me no more? then I'm poor indeed;
Yes, I will see her, tho' her sight were Death.
Ri.
Hold! my Lord.
Fab.
Forbear! Despair is frantick; play not with it;
I've lost all hopes but of one parting look;
Rob me not of that last, that cruel pleasure.
Pla.
Oh rigid Fate, why must I thus undo him!
“But I my self shall soon be more than punish'd,
“Lonesome, self-banish'd, buried to the World,
“My Life shall be a kind of ling'ring Death.
“Course Weeds my Cloathing, a poor Cell my Lodging,
“Bare Walls my only prospect, the cold Ground,
“Or harder Floor, my Bed; and Grief my End.
Fab.
“Oh! why did I come back! why wou'd I see her!
Pla.
“Then, if at dead at Night you chance to wake,
“Oh! think of me, and say, now poor Placentia
“Is risen in the Dark, and in the Cold,
“To pray for me, to pray for her Fabiano:
“For then will I be praying on my Knees,
“That Heav'n may bless you and your future Bride.
Fab.
Too gen'rous Fair, Oh! spare your Grief's Profusion;
Show me less Love, be cruel out of Pity;
Tell me you hate me, I shall be less wretched.
Pla.
I cannot; Oh! then leave me, quickly leave me;
Fly my Contagious Grief. Oh! 'twill infect you.
I merit not your Care, much less your Love.
And yet forgive, and let me Love you still.
As for your Grief, impose it on me, Heav'n!
For I am grown familiar with Affliction.
But live, and think your Death my greatest dread.
Fab.
Then I must strive to live: But oh! Placentia,
'Twill cost my Love much dearer than to dye.
If one Hour's Absence made me wild with Sorrow,
How shall I live, for ever parted from you,
By Hills and Seas, and the more fatal Cloyster?
How bear the Sun shou'd rise, the Sun shou'd set,
And I ne're blest with my Placentia's sight?
Yet fear not, my Complaints shou'd reach your Cell.
No, not so much as the Tidings of my Death
Shall give you cause to think there liv'd on Earth
So lost a Wretch as I.
Ri.
Take her away, she heightens his Distraction.
32
Oh! stay one moment more, then tear me from my self,
Here let me seal my everlasting Leave.
[Kisses her Hand.
Farewel, thou Innocent, thou blest Destruction!
Kind Cruelty, sweet Torment of my Soul;
All that's Delight and Pain transcending Thought;
My Soul, my Blessing, and my earthly Heav'n.
Pla.
Farewel.
Ric.
Part them.
Fab.
Oh! let me take another parting Look.
Ri.
Force 'em asunder.
[Ricardo's Servants strive to part 'em.
Capt.
I cannot bear—
Ri.
Hold, stir not, on your Lives.
[To the Captain and his Attendants.
Fab.
Hold, impious, sacrilegious Villains, hold!
Pull, hale, drag, cut, part, tear me Limb from Limb,
Yet still I'll hold—she's gone.
[Struggles with Ricardo's Men.
Pla.
Farewel, thou dear unhappy Man, farewel.
[Placentia is led off.
Fab.
Wolves, Tigers, Fiends, you shall not 'scape unpunish'd.
Ri.
aside.]
He'll but obstruct me, if he stays—I'll free him.
To Fab.]
My Lord, 'twas needful Cruelty to force you from her.
But I'll yet prove your Friend, and free you instantly.
Go travel when you please; I'll not impose
My Sister on you, tho' your Father wou'd.
This private way you may get out unseen.
Fa.
to Ri.
Tho' I can't thank you, I accept the offer.
To the Captain aside.]
Captain, once more I'll try to see Placentia;
Then I'll aboard your Brigantine again.
Capt.
My Lord, part of my Men ashore keep close together,
The rest aboard wait for us: All the Slaves
Sit ready at their Oars.
Fa.
Alas! poor Men!
Tho' they're not half so wretched as my self.
Ri.
Guards I dismiss you.
[Ex. Fabiano, Captain, and his Attendants one way, and the Guards another way.
He's gone, and she's secur'd—so far 'tis well—
Page, tell Placentia, that Fabiano's here,
And has prevail'd with me to let him see her.
[Exit Servant.
This may decoy her hither—my Time's short,
Yet I will fetch thee back, and tug with thee,
33
Resolve to leave some of the spoyls I hold;
I will not be left naked—
Enter Placentia hastily.
Pla.
Hah! deceiv'd—
Ri.
Nay, start not back, he's gone for ever now.
Pla.
And do you think to keep me here by force?
Ri.
Yes, force must act, when kinder usage fails:
I'll give you still an hour: But then resolve
To wed me, or appease my am'rous Rage.
Pla.
Wer't thou as great, as Lawless Pow'r cou'd make thee,
And I as poor as Nature first design'd me,
Know, rather than I'd serve thy horrid pleasures,
I'd Fly to Desarts, to the Land of Sorrow,
Bear with the want of freedom, light and food.
Nay, I wou'd plunge in Seas, and ev'n in Hell,
But that, I know, thou woud'st torment me there.
Such is my hate. I'll desperately dare,
And, to shun Thee, all other Curses bear.
Ri.
Then hear thy Doom. Out of meer Spight I love thee,
Love thee with most inveterate bent of mind.
And thus will hate thee worse; yes worse I'll hate thee,
When force has gain'd what thou deny'st my Love.
That which will quench my Flame, shall kindle thine;
Then for the Pleasing Cure to me thou'lt run,
Still close thou'lt follow, but as fast I'll shun:
From wealth, from me, I'll calmly see thee torn,
And leave thee nothing but thy naked scorn.
Pla.
Hear thou, the surer fate attends thy Crimes;
In sudden wealth, as sudden a decay:
Then universal hate, in pressing want;
And, in that want, sickness without Relief.
Thus lingring, thou shalt envy starving beggars;
Shame and Reproach clogging thy heavy hours.
Then, guilty conscience hurrying on despair,
Hang between Heav'n and Earth, as fit for neither;
And none Endeav'ring thy curst life to save,
Dye without Tears of Pray'rs, and want a Grave.
Exit.
Ri.
'Tis well thou'rt gone, proud Thing. I'm urg'd so far,
I scarce cou'd hold from making good my Threats.
'Tis yet too soon, but if my plot succeeds
Thou shalt be mine, or bear thy share of Ruin.
If I'm left hopeless, hope not to be spar'd.
No, when I fall unpittied, perish Nature;
Dye all that's humane in me but Revenge;
34
I'd be more damn'd to keep my Foes from heav'n;
With pow'rful spight I'll all their hopes destroy,
And drag 'em downwards with a dismal Joy.
Exit.
| Beauty in Distress | |