 | Beauty in Distress |  |
ACT IV.
Enter Morat, and Zemet, who keeps at a distance.Morat.
The Day's grown old, and almost lost in night:
Work in each Street gives way to soft amusements:
All Nature's business seems now to be Love.
The wind with stronger sighs salutes the Flowers,
Descending Clouds embrace and kiss the Earth.
And, while the Sun on the Sea's bosome Rests,
Th'officious Moon, who winks, with half a face,
Lends a securer light to meeting Lovers.
For now they meet; Th'impatient happy youth
Sees his kind Nymph come tripping or'e the Plain:
They fly, they rush into each others arms,
The Lover's Bless'd and rifles all her Charms.
Thus eager, but less certain, here I come
To seek my better Fate, my lov'd Placentia.
Make haste, O night, extend thy sable Wings!
Let Nature wear a blacker Face than mine,
When the Fair owns her Love, and I my self,
When with kind Rudeness, I force willing Kisses,
Hide, hide Placentia's blushes from my Eyes,
Or with Excess of joy, the bless'd Vincentio dyes.
Enter Ricardo, and two Bravoes.
Ri.
But are you sure the Ship's at your disposal.
1 Bra.
The Brigantine is ours, my Lord; we could not
Get one for any hire; but seiz'd on this with ease.
Most of the men were gone ashore. Besides
The Captain is a new revolted Pyrate,
Who was as glad of us as we of him.
Enter Servants with Lights, which they set upon the Table.
Hush! here's the Moor!—In half an hour attend me.
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aside.
Whisp'ring and Bravoes! sure there's mischief hatching.
For once I'll force my self to seem a Villain,
To sift out, and prevent it—
Ri.
You're punctual, worthy Moor, but why so thoughtful?
Morat.
I was but thinking
Why men, who know each other to be Cheats,
Shou'd to their prejudice strive to seem honest.
Ri.
What, do you think I now dissemble with you?
Morat.
Why not, my Lord? since I my self dissembled.
Ri.
How! you? plain-dealing blunt Morat dissemble?
Mor.
We all for Love, Revenge, or Int'rest feign,
And all, for diff'rent ends, seem diff'rent men,
Then shift like Play'rs, and are ourselves again.
Ev'n the most wise, with studied labour, hide,
When flatter'd, Joy; and when exalted, Pride.
Old Maids, if such there be, dissemble youth;
Young Widows, sorrow; Wives and Husbands, truth.
The heir feigns Joy, if his sick friends revive,
Yet almost dyes for grief that they're alive;
The Trader rails at Thieves who Forests range,
Cants, prays, yet cheats, and shakes a whole Exchange.
The Common Jilt, with face and passion feign'd,
Hugs some rich fool, nor leaves him, till he's drain'd.
Dissembling's all Mankind's Prerogative
We know 'tis us'd by all, yet still believe,
And thus are all deceiv'd, and all alike deceive.
Ri.
I've been deceiv'd indeed. What, wou'd you tempt
Your Convert to relapse?
Mor.
Come, come, unmask my Lord, I'm bare-fac'd now,
And know you; know me too; I'm left Executor,
And the Will gives your Sisters and Placentia
Most of th'Estate. I've nothing but my Sword;
Command it, and my Pow'r, so I may share
Some of the gain you by my means may reap.
Ri.
Shall I believe thee true?
Mor.
Like all mankind, true to my Interest.
Ri.
Then thou'lt be true to me—
Come to my arms, thou surest, best of friends.
With feeble Oaths we'll not each other bind;
No Tye but Int'rest strongly links mankind.
Mor.
You love Placentia?
Ri.
I love no Woman, but I lust for all;
And her above the rest; tho hopeless yet:
But now I've a design, you soon shall know—
A flourish for a Serenade.
Hark, Music!—sure this Serenade's for her;
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The lights; perhaps we may know more.
They put out the Lights.
Morat.
Placentia! hah! I find I am not proof
Against th'intruding Monster Jealousy.
Out of my heart, thou gnawing envious passion!
Tho look'st so like a Vice, I will not lodge Thee.
A Serenading Symphony is heard, as from without.
Enter Placentia while 'tis perform'd.
Pla.
What wretch has chos'n this night for Serenades?
Alas! my only Charmer's gone for ever,
And with him all the Joys these Notes wou'd summon.
They might as well before Church-windows revel,
And with unheeded Numbers tempt the Dead.
Yet have my hopeless wishes drawn me hither,
Where I unseen may best inform my self,
Whether, as I suspect, these are not his Musicians.
Perhaps he's not gone yet, but stays to free me.
Time was I shou'd have trembl'd thus alone,
But Grief and Fear itself have made me bold.
Enter Fabiano, Captain, a Servant, with a dark Lanthorn.
Ha! who are these?
Fa.
She's here; fear not, my Soul. 'Tis your adorer.
Morat.
Ha!
(starting.
Ri.
Stir not yet.
(aside to Mor.
Fa.
Take this, thou friendly guide, with my best Thanks,
And watch to let us out.
[Gives the Servant Money. Ex. Servant.
Pla.
Oh! I am all surprize. Why wou'd you venture thus?
Why, with this Musick? Is't to punish me?
Fa.
Think not those accents meant to move the Soul.
Oh! lovely Maid, more Musick's in your name;
They're but the mournful Prelude to my Dirge;
And serve t'amuse observing Spyes one way,
That we more safely may escape another:
For I am come once more to see and free you,
Then go, where my despair shall neer torment you.
Pla.
Oh I must share your grief where e're you go;
You never can be absent from my heart.
Morat.
I hope, I dream.
(aside.)
Is this the love I blest my self withal!
Fa.
Sighs stop my words.
Pla.
And Tears obstruct my sight.
Fa.
Oh! if you lov'd!
Pla.
I love you but too well,
For my Soul's quiet, dear unhappy man.
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Oh cursed sound! he's lov'd! he's but too happy.
(aside.)
Pla.
Go prosecute your generous Design,
See foreign Lands, and visit distant Courts!
Fa.
Since you will have me go, I will Placentia:
But not to Courts. No, I will find some Desart:
There will I linger out a wretched Being,
Till grief that nurse of Sighs, can yield no more,
And with your name upon my Lips, I dye.
Pla.
Alas, my Wishes contradict themselves;
I wish you'd lov'd me still, I wish you wou'd forget me.
Yet love me, love me still, where e're you go.
Morat.
Racks, Wheels, and Vultures!—
(aside.)
Pla.
Stay, but one moment, I will fetch some Jewels;
“To pay my Portion to the Monastry,
“Then I'll fly thither under your conduct,
For there's no safety here, now brave Vincentio's Dead.
Ex. Pla.
Morat.
Oh! that he were!— (aside.)
I can forbear no longer.
Who are you there, that with false Lights and Vows
Seek to dishonor noble families,
(Zemet comes up to Morat.)
By ravishing young Virgins from their Houses?
Fa.
Whoe're thou art, I justly fling the lye back in thy face.
Mor.
Our quarrel's just o' both sides, if't be so:
Then let not odds on mine e're make it less.
How many are you arm'd?
Fa.
We're only two, yet dare defie you all;
Tho, if the Moon's faint light deceives me not, you're three.
Mor.
That shall not be; Ricardo, now stand by. Draw, Zemet!
Ri.
aside.
No, I'll get lights—I hope they'll rid me of a Rival.
Exit Ricardo.
Fa.
Whoe're thou art, tho thy Reproach was base,
Yet this proceeding's noble. Wou'd we had
The Sun to light us to each other's face. I wou'd see thine.
Let's to some fitter place to fight this quarrel,
For which I know no motive but thy Rudeness.
Mor.
Yes, there are many; but my face wou'd show
By light but little otherwise than now.
I am the Moor, deceas'd Vincentio's friend.
Fa.
I ever lov'd him;
And, for his sake, I wou'd not kill thee, Moor.
Mor.
But he wou'd thee, if he were in my place,
For stealing thus from him Placentia's love.
But I'll revenge at once his wrongs and mine.
Fa.
Were he alive I'd not invade his right;
And as for thee, how canst thou say I wrong'd thee?
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Oh! ye immortal Pow'rs! What, have I got
A talking syllogistick Enemy?
And for a prize great as Placentia's heart?
Know, whosoe're thou art, I love Placentia.
Will that yet rouse thy Courage?
Fa.
Hah! Thou love her!
Vile Black! I'll free her from that shame, or dye.
Morat fights Fabiano, the Capt. fights Zemet, and disarms him out of sight, then (to joyn with Fabiano,) he Re-enters, supporting himsself on his Sword.
Zem.
(without.)
Disarm'd! Curst Chance! Help! Help!
Capt.
Unlucky Wound! he has hurt me in the Thigh,
And now I'm useless.
[Falls.
Enter Placentia, who offers to step between them.
Pla.
Oh! hold! or know you kill a harmless Maid.
[They stop.
Morat.
Madam, retire.
Fa.
Leave us a while, dear Madam.
Pla.
No, here I'll take my death, or hinder yours.
Fa.
Oh! fly! while this Moor lives, I cannot free you.
Pla.
Ah! why so cruel, Moor!
Morat.
I love and will not lose you.
Pla.
The name of love is poison'd on thy Tongue.
Oh! sully not my Virtue with thy passion.
Can you now think me worth your care, my Lord?
Fa.
Heav'n can receive no spots from Blasphemy;
But, spight of that, the pious pay their duty,
And mine's to dye or free you.
(offers to fight again.)
Pla.
Oh! stay! hold! if you love your selves or me,
Who first desists, I'll think the truest lover.
Fa.
Must I not punish him?
She suddenly interposes and holds Fabiano.
Pla.
Yes in my arms—Thus punish him more safely.
Now, Moor, if thou would'st kill him, kill me too.
Enter Ricardo, Zemet, and Servantss with lights.
Mor.
Fabiano!
Ri.
How does my worthy friend?
Mor.
Oh! never worse.
Ri.
Where are you wounded, Sir?
Mor.
Oh! at the heart—by killing jealousy.
Fa.
Madam, till morning I must leave you here,
And then I'll wait on you.
Pla.
Oh that's too long, where honour is unsafe.
Mor.
Let him protect you there, if I am grown
So fear'd a Ravisher.
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Madam, we will: my wounded friend wants help,
The Moor is brave, and thus we must be safe.
Mor., Zemet,
While I retire, stay and observe 'em.
Ex. Morat.
Ri.
O do not fear me, Madam: what I threatn'd
Is far from my intent, 'twas but to fright you
Into complying. I adore your virtue.
[The Captain is carried in.
Oh pardon me, be blest, and make me so.
[He kneels to Placentia.
Enter Laura, with her two Children led by Servants.
Lau.
Confusion!
Ri.
Hah!
They start and look amazedly at each other.
Lau.
Ruin'd!
Ri.
Both, if you stay.
(Aside to Laura.)
You found me begging here a reconcilement
Of this fair Enemy, who's wedded to a Cloyster;
But I'll withdraw with you, to know what fit
Usurps your patience, Madam.
Lau.
No, learn that here.
Ri.
Oh hold! retire, or we're undone.
(Aside to Laura.
Lau.
No, perjur'd man. All here shall known my wrongs.
Despair disclaims Reserves: 'tis as I fear'd;
Impatient Creditors drive me from home,
Just now my goods were seiz'd, and here thy heart.
All, all, I find, is lost, of what the fondness
Of my late Husband left me when he dy'd,
I've nothing now, but these his helpless Infants;
These Innocents, depriv'd like their poor Mother,
Ev'n of a place to lay their little heads.
1 Child.
Oh sad! have we then ne'r another home?
I'm hungry, cold, and tir'd, indeed I am.
Lau.
Oh wretched Children, but more wretched Mother!
Fa.
This Scene adds grief to grief, yet tempts to stay:
Ri.
I share your sorrows, Madam: Let's withdraw,
You may expect to find a friend in me.
Lau.
A friend! how cold, how unlike one he talks!
And looks, as if I were his Wife already.
I'm lost, he's false! I saw it. This confirms it.
I can no longer doubt the dreadful truth.
But if Revenge—.
[Looks angrily upon Placentia.
Pla.
I dare no longer stay.
Going.
Lau.
Stay, thou invader of my right.
Fa.
Hold, Madam.
(Interposing.
Lau.
Stay, I'm all patience yet!
Let me peruse you, Madam—
Thou vulgar thing, thou Face mean as thy Birth,
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I'm now convinc'd that nothing but a Philtre
Cou'd thus divert his choice from me to thee.
But wer't thou Beauty's Queen, thy charms are vain,
I'd blast them all, my conquest to maintain.
Dare but to hope my slave to disengage,
Not heav'n it self shall shield thee from my Rage.
Pla.
If Don Ricardo's yours, pray keep him, Madam.
I cou'd ev'n hate my self for pleasing him;
Then think not I'll e're court his odious Love,
Sooner shall freedom doat on Tyranny,
Sooner will I be perjur'd, or he true.
[Ex. Plac. led by Fabiano. Zem. after 'em
Lau.
By her Disdain, it shou'd be so.—Just Powers!
Shou'd he shun me, to doat on one who shuns him,
'Twou'd be Revenge, yet heighten my Disgrace.
Am I then fallen so low to seek him whom she scorns?
Ri.
I still am true—But hear me.
[aside to Laura.
Lau.
No, thou can'st only be thy self, and false.
I've heard too much, I'm cur'd at once and loath thee.
I thought not, I so tamely cou'd have born
Thy change; but 'tis so poor, I scorn thee now.
Raise my fortunes
High as they stood, our contract shall be void.
Ri.
Can you mean this?
Lau.
Witness it, all that hear me!
Ri.
Then be it so.
Lau.
Do you consent?
Ri.
I do.
Lau.
First perish she, thou, I and all the World.
Perfidious Fool! cou'd'st thou presume to think
I'd give thee leave to live and be another's?
Ri.
I was a fool,—for I believ'd a Woman!
Lau.
And I a greater, I believ'd a Man—
Ri.
What shall I do? out of meer pity I must use her ill.
(aside
Curst be your Love, and your assuming Pride,
Still thus Vexations, but most curst your Cunning!
Thus do too many of your Sex deceive us;
For they can feign and lye and weep at will.—
Reserv'dness is a Bawd to their stol'n pleasures,
For, as some wear fine Cloaths with empty purses,
They've but the dress of virtue, not the substance.
Their modesty's as thin, as are their Veils,
Worn alike ev'ry where, but in their Chambers.
Their Reason is a Slave to their wild Passions,
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And their best vertue's damn'd Hypocrisy.
Lau.
And what's your Sexe's who thus rail at ours,
To hide your worse dissembling, which all ours
Is but to Counterplot; while all the faults,
For which you blame us, are still caus'd by you?
You, who all promise, and who all betray;
Who use your stronger sense to ruin our weakness:
And take a greater freedom to be bad,
Nay, boast ev'n of more vice than you can act;
Force us to feign, and live recluse like Slaves,
Yet damn us for a slip, of which you glory.
You, proud, deluding, treach'rous Tyrant—Men:
Your very Heroes are but bold Destroyers,
Your good Companions are but Libertines,
(Walks about discontentedly.
And your fond Lovers but designing Traytors.
Ri.
to himself.
I find 'tis vain to think t'outrail a Woman.
I must try softer means.
Trust me, were both undone, if you rave on;
To Laura following her.
But if you're calm, I'll double your Estate.
Lau.
Cruel, how durst thou thus affront my Love?
What did I ever wish for, but thy heart?
Did I desire thy wealth? Did I not give thee
All I possest and beggar these young wretches,
Whose sight now fills my drooping Soul with Grief,
(weeps)
And sinks my spirits to the lowest ebb;
For, with our Wealth, our Spirits sink, I find.
Ri.
Oh check that Love—You know not what you ask.
Whate're I seem, I scorn t'undo you more.
I am—Oh! I shall say too much! I swear,
(aside
The dismal truth was on my lips—Farewel—
(Going
Lau.
Stay! Oh! I dye with shame, but cannot leave him.
Heav'ns, is this he who swore eternal truth!
(Holds him
Ri.
Do, rail on, curse me, hate me, scorn me, spurn me,
That I may dare to wrong you, or we're ruin'd!
Heav'n knows 'tis fate, more than my falsehood, parts us—
Lau.
Oh racks! oh pangs! oh that we could but deal
With love, when slighted, as we can with friendship,
Part company, and love and friendship too.
But 'twill not be—I burst with grief and rage.
Must I bear this? Is there no way to ease?
My Rival—I'll find her out, and give her instant death.
(Going
Ri.
Hold Madam—
(Ricardo hinders her.
Lau.
Let me go.
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You must not.
Lau.
Prevented! and by thee? Oh my heart breaks!
My Rage works inwards—help; I faint—I dye?
Swoons in her Womens arms, and is laid in an Arm Chair.
Wom.
Oh help my Lady!
Ri.
Run to my Closet! I've rich Cordials there—
By heavens I pity her!
Exit Ricardo's Servant.
Yes, from my Soul I do. Her Charms, her Love
Deserve a better fate! Oh! I cou'd kill my self,
My most unhappy fickle self! but hold!
Wou'd that relieve her? No: Then live, Ricardo,
Live to supply her wants out of Placentia's fortune:
But how? while Laura lives, she'll still obstruct thee.
“Oh! whither am I driv'n? Thoughts not so far!
“But if she lives we're ruin'd both! a dreadful truth!
“I feel a strange Remorse.
Stay, Life's to her a greater pain than Death.
Then let her dye—
“Down checking scruples. Let me tell my Soul
“'Tis a kind act, and necessary mischief.
Re-enter Servant with a Case of Bottles, Ri. opens it, takes out one, and causes some drops to be pour'd into Laura's mouth.
Few drops of this will soon restore her sences—
And in few hours give her eternal rest.
[aside.]
Woman.
How your hand shakes, my Lord.
Ri.
Alas! I'm much concern'd for her, poor Lady—
See, she revives.
Lau.
More cruelly to dye.
For, to the wretched, Life's a punishment,
And most to me, lost, hopeless, yet still loving.
Oh women, women, boast your pow'r no more.
How soon our pride is humbled! first we triumph,
But oh 'tis only with more weight to feel
Th'insulting scorn of our Rebellious Slaves.
Weep, Laura weep! Think how with this false Charmer
(Checking thy native haughtiness of Soul)
Thou cou'dst have liv'd an humble Cottage mate,
A pattern to all Wives. Yet now he slights thee;
Tho ruin'd for his sake, and unpossest.
Oh let me rave, be mad, tear, tear my hair,
My face, my eyes, curse their weak Charms,
Groan on the ground, and grovel till at last
It hides me in a Grave.
Throws herself on the ground.
Ri.
Pray, Madam, rise.
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Lau.
Away!—Think not I'll stay in this ungrateful House:
No, let me lye expos'd to the bleak Air,
On the cold pavement, in some lonesome street;
A Lodging fit for my forlorn condition;
While my poor Children, freezing, tir'd, half famisht,
With tears and moans pierce the most cruel hearts,
And with cold scraps feed miserable life.
Oh dismal, dismal thought! But 'twill not long torment me:
I shall run mad, I hope. Yet then, I fear,
As on my Straw I rave, a doleful spectacle,
Still with a sigh to all my Sex I'll cry,
Thus, thus, poor Laura fares for being true.
Ri.
Oh! how this shakes my Soul! she shall not dye.
(aside.
Run, fetch Physicians—But hold, I'm mad too.
How will that help her?—Gently raise her up,
Then lead her hence to rest.
They raise her up.
Lau.
It must be to the Grave then. Wou'd it were,
So my curst Rival were but there with me!
Oh how the thoughts of her inflame my Soul!
May a wrong'd woman's Curses soon o'retake her,
Wrinkles, Deformity, Desires, and Scorn,
Detracting blast her fame, worst plagues her Charms,
Eternal Disappointments, Grief, Disquiet,
Confusion Shame, and Misery like mine
Pursue her, and the cause of my Despair.
(Ex. Lau. cum suis.
Ri.
to himself.
How my Soul's rackt; shame combating with pity!
Methinks I see her still, and the Bane's working—
I feel her Pangs, I hear her Groans—Oh horror!
Enter Bravoes, and Lieutenant.
Brav.
My Lord—
Ri.
to himself.
It shall not be; I'll save her, tho I perish—
Bra.
My Lord! He's lost in thought.
Ri.
to himself.
But will that ease her?
Bra.
My Lord—
Ri.
Hah!—
(Starting
Bra.
I've brought the Captain of the Ship: our friends
Wait with his men without.
Ri.
I thank thee, Hell! thou hast determin'd me.
aside.
Plate, Money, Jewels, and the chief, the Women,
This very night shall all be shipt for Afric.
To the Bravo.
Come, let's make all things ready for our flight;
Then in Placentia's Lodgings seize Fabiano;
He'll be an Hostage for our future Pardon,
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Necessity makes Villains of us all.
Exeunt
| Beauty in Distress | |