 | Perolla and Izadora |  |
ACT the Fifth.
Blacius, and Portius in Prison: Portius Sleeping.Bla.
The Morning rises with its usual Ray,
Nor shews the Gloomy Face of least Disorder:
No Prodigies, no Fate-foretelling Stars;
Nor Storms, nor Thunders wait on Blacius Death:
In every thing the Course of Nature still
Keeps duly on, concernless in its Road,
And will do still the same, when I'm no more:
Why shou'd I think it then a Pain to leave
These common Objects, that regard not me?
Behold! how Peacefully a constant Mind
[Observing Port.
Receives the solemn Summons of its Fate?
And in the Body's Rest discards the Thought?
To dye's no more: Our Sleep's a short-liv'd Death,
Either is but the loss of Time unknown;
And he that sleeps, till from the Grave awak'd,
Feels not that Gap in his Eternity,
T'exceed a Moment!—Soft! he wakes!
But Oh! to sleep again in Death for me!
O Portius! if thy wandring Soul has dreamt
Of Liberty, how mournful is this Waking?
Port.
Not so, my Brother, tho' I've dreamt, 'tis true,
Nay dreamt, that our amazing Fortune had
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Presents me not a distant Hope to save us,
The lively Image still so fills my Mind,
I can't yet leave it for a Thought of Sorrow.
Bla.
O! that I thus cou'd form a Hope for thee!
But when I think that my Misfortunes have
Involv'd thy Fate, that my dear Brother's Blood
Must stream for his unhappy Faith to me;
'Tis more than all my Manhood can support!
O Portius! pity, and forgive my Fate.
Port.
Art thou to Blame for what thy Fate has done?
O Blacius! I cou'd call thee now Unkind,
To think my Death's not more a Pleasure than a Pain.
Has not our Friendship yet from forward Youth
To lagging Age ran through divided Pleasures?
And shall thy Heart not share me in Distress?
Shall I now coldly mourn, because I bleed,
In proof but of a friendly Faith to thee?
Now, on my Soul, I know thy honest Heart
With pleasure wou'd abide its Fate for Portius;
Can then a Friendship, so sincerely bound,
Suppose a happier End, than dying thus together?
[Embracing.
Enter the Provost, and Guards.
Pro.
My Lord, your Pardon for Unwelcome News:
By Orders now from Hannibal receiv'd
I am directed to remove you hence
To your immediate Execution: But,
Lord Portius, you have found his Mercy.
Bla.
What said'st thou, ha!
Pro.
Great Hannibal inform'd,
On cooler Thoughts, that your unhappy Crime
Was more an ancient Friend's Concern for Blacius,
Than wilful Scorn of his insulted Power,
Extends his Mercy to your Life's Reprieve.
Bla.
Then welcome Death! and since my Brother's free,
I die without a murmuring Thought to Fate.
Port.
O Blacius! can I taste such ill divided Mercy?
Pro.
Your mournful Daughter with successful Tears
Implor'd his Mercy for a Father's Life,
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Was his hard Leave before your Death to take
A parting Blessing, and her last Farewel.
Port.
See where she comes, adorn'd in Sorrow.
Enter Izadora.
Death ne'r look'd Terrible till now.
Bla.
These Tears, my Izadora, wound me more
Than all the Weapons of approaching Death:
But that I see it strikes so hard upon
Thy tender Heart, to me the Thought were nothing;
Why shou'dst thou thus disturb thee at a stroke,
Which he that's now most happy's sure to feel?
When first we're launch'd on this uncertain World,
Our earliest Knowledge tells us we must drown,
Nature assures us nothing in the Voyage,
But that she, soon or late, will call us strict
To our Account of this intrusted Venture:
The Time is come to make her due demand
On me and 'tis but fit that it were paid.
Iza.
But then to enter on your Life distrain'd
To seize it in a Bloody Execution;
This is not Nature's Law, but Fortune's Tyranny;
The Debt of Nature might be easier paid!
But now to die! your Health, your Senses sound!
Your Strength yet fresh, and capable to run
(No Violence us'd) with Vigour to the Goal;
Howe'er your tender Love's Concern for me
With Manly Courage may disguise the Terror,
I know 'tis more than Nature can support!
This weaker Frame in spight of you must start,
And shudder at so sharp a Dissolution.
Bla.
In vain I see weak Reason has prescrib'd
Us Virtue, as the Armour of our Hearts:
For Oh! to part with thee, my Izadora!
To lose the Cordial Comforts of thy Youth,
Th'endearing Softness of that Filial Love,
Whose cheerful Smiles so oft have sooth'd my Age,
In spite of Resolution wounds me through;
To leave thee thus! to this vile World expos'd,
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Amidst the Hazards of outragious Fortune!
O! where's that temper'd Heart of hardest Virtue,
That can unshock'd withstand the bruising Blow?
Iza.
Nay, now you double my Distress—But yet
One parting Comfort's left to your support,
And let th'Assurance sooth your dying Thoughts,
That tho' you leave me to the World forlorn,
The same unshaken Virtue, that has still
Preserv'd me taintless in my Actions past,
Shall, when the dear Protector of my Youth
Is dead, support me to the last like Blacius Daughter.
Bla.
O! let me press thee to my Heart reviv'd,
And thank thy Virtue for this ease in Death!
Portius!—my Brother—and my Friend—Farewel—
I see thy Heart is full—and will
Not overcharge it with thy Griefs increas'd!
—Only this Boon—my Izadora's Youth—
Let me bequeath to thy protecting Care—
—My Izadora!—O! the killing Thought!—
This last embrace—Thy dying Father's Blessing—
—One Farewel Kiss—O! must we part for ever!
Pro.
My Lord, the Time elapses.
Bla.
But one short Word, and I have done.
And now by all our faithful Friendship past,
(Observe me well, for 'tis my last Request)
Let me conjure thee, Portius, when the time
Of decent Sorrow for a Father's Death,
In mournful Izadora's ceasing Tears,
Shall be expir'd, to crown her Virgin Wishes,
Give her, where most her Beauties are deserv'd,
Where most her Heart inclines—to brave Perolla,
And as you wish the Grave shou'd yield me Rest,
Reward her Virtues with her Love possest.
[Ex. severally.
The SCENE Opening; Discovers a Scaffold for the Execution of Blacius, and at some distance a Seat rais'd for Hannibal; Guards and People crowding; Pacuvius speaking to an Officer.
Pac.
Now Captain, let the Soldiers close their Ranks,
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Till Hannibal himself shall take his stand:
For he in Person is resolv'd to see
The Execution of the Law perform'd,
And by his awful Presence to prevent
Th'audacious Thought of any second Tumult.
And see his Guards approach us!
(Within)
Bear back, make way there!
Enter Hannibal attended.
Han.
Good Morning to the Lord Pacuvius! What!
Are all things ready? is the Prisoner come?
Pac.
I sent just now your Orders to produce him.
Han.
'Tis well, and has our Edict been proclaim'd?
Pac.
Already twice the publick Officer
This Morn proclaim'd it in the Forum,
And through the City several Copies are
Dispers'd, in hopes to make it more effectual.
Han.
(To the Crowd)
My Friends, what you have heard proclaim'd, we here
Prepar'd stand forth in Person to confirm:
Nay more! of these unlimited Conditions,
To bind us firmer yet to the Performance,
We solemn vow before th'Attesting Powers,
By the full Glory of our Conquering Arms,
And by our Father's dear departed Soul,
Without reserve most faithfully to keep 'em.
People.
Huzzah!
Han.
But see the Prisoner comes to give our Laws their due.
Pac.
And me my last Revenge.
Enter Blacius, Provost, and Guards.
Bla.
What Ceremony's next?
Pro.
No more, my Lord, but to ascend the Scaffold.
Bla.
Conduct me.
Han.
—Hold!
Yet stay thee, Blacius, e're the lifted Sword
Of final Justice falls upon thy Life,
If ought thou know'st, that may arrest its Arm
Now open to the publick Ear, declare it,
That Men may say, thou either ow'st thy Life
To our Impartial Honour, or thy Death
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Bla.
Since what I undertook for injur'd Rome
Has fail'd my Hopes, Life now were scarce a Favour:
I am prepar'd to die, and therefore shall be short:
How far my Doom is just, is bootless to Inquire;
No, prosperous Hannibal, I'll not complain
Of Wrongs receiv'd, where thy dire Will's a Law;
Yet if thou'dst have the World suppose my Death
Not whole is owing to thy deaf Revenge,
I have a late Request to ask thy Power,
Which cannot taint thy Honour to comply with.
Han.
To let thee see we deal Compassion with
Our Justice, free demand.
Bla.
Thus then,
I have an only Child, whose Filial Love
Late brought her to Salapia, lost, to mourn
Her hapless Father's Chains, and sooth his Sorrows.
Now let me beg of thy indulgent Honour,
That since thy Mercy has been pleas'd
To leave her yet one only Friend in Portius,
That he, this Daughter, and some small Retinue,
When I am dead, may freely be allow'd
Your Convoy to the friendly Arms of Rome,
With the Remains of his impair'd Estate,
To end their Days in Inoffensive Quiet.
Han.
Our Power wou'd wound it self to strike the Innocent;
The eldest Law of Greatness is Compassion:
Thy mournful Daughter free shall be releas'd,
And not alone thy Brother Portius Fortune,
But (tho' the Law condemns the whole) yet half
Thy own we grant to her Distress restor'd:
Of which perform'd, our Honour be the Pledge.
[Bla. bows, and wipes his Eyes.
Pac.
How easily to Honest Fools
May Wise Men paint their Greatness?
[Aside.
Han.
Now, is there ought that thou wou'dst farther say?
Bla.
No more, but that this Favour was
Thy only way to draw the Tears of Blacius.
Han.
But that our Honour binds us to be just,
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That Carthage has repos'd in Hannibal
Must, in despight of Nature, be discharg'd;
'Tis that alone, and not thy Foe, destroys thee;
By that compell'd we yield thee to the Law,
Conduct him to his Fate.
[Bla. mounts the Scaffold.
Pac.
O well supported Virtue!
Now will the Rabble think this real!
[Aside.
A Noise is heard among the Crowd, and at some Distance, Portius and Izadora.
People.
Make way! make way for the Lady there!
Guards.
Keep back! keep back! there's no one passes there.
Iza.
O yet for pity, Soldiers, let me pass!
Han.
How now! What means that rude Disorder?
Pro.
My Lord, a Lady by Lord Portius brought,
Distress'd she seems, intreats with earnest Mood,
Before the Execution's done, she may be heard;
And comes to Hannibal, she says, for Justice.
Han.
Admit her:
To Justice never has our Way been barr'd.
[Han. descends, Iza. runs to him, and kneels.
Iza.
O Hannibal! for ever Fam'd in Arms,
But truly Great in thy regards of Honour;
By Honour, I conjure thee now, be just,
And yet defer doom'd Blacius Execution,
Whom by the hopes of my Eternal Peace
I've something to reveal, that will compel
Thy Honour to preserve or sink thy Fame for ever.
Han.
Beware, thee Woman, of thy flatter'd Hopes.
The guilty Blacius Crimes too full are prov'd
T'expect our Mercy from the highest Bribe
Thy Tears can give, or ought thou canst reveal;
Therefore to spare thy Tongue, that fruitless pain,
Our Guards remove her—
Iza.
—Hold!
Yet, cruel Warriour, hear me for thy Fame!
I ask not Mercy, but thy Justice due;
But yet a Moment, and I'm dumb for ever!
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Importance to preserve thy Oaths, thy Honour,
If not by thy own Laws, proclaim'd my Right,
Let loose thy fiercest Rage upon my Life;
Give me the Tortures, lingring Pains, or worse,
The dead denial of my Hope's Relief.
Now, by that sacred Power that fills thy Soul,
[Breaking from the Guards.
By the resistless Force of conquering Honour,
I must! I will be heard, or hold you ever!
These Hands thus clinch'd no Force shall part, unless
With cruel Swords you cut my Hold away.
People.
Hear her! hear her!
Han.
Forbear a while the Execution!
Yet think not, Woman, that thy Tears prevail;
But Honour, thus allarm'd descends to hear thee:
Mean while from Hannibal thou'rt as secure
Of Justice, as doom'd Blacius of his Fate;
Than which what dreadful Oracles foretell,
Not more assur'd, thou may'st depend on:
Say then from whence, and what is thy demand?
Iza.
Behold me then, the wretched Blacius Daughter,
Whose late Offences most unfortunate,
So far it seems have stirr'd your fatal Rage,
That nothing but his vital Blood can sate it.
For when your Prison late was forc'd, and he
To your Revenges Disappointment freed,
Your warm Resentment in its Heat proclaim'd,
That whosoever truly shou'd reveal
The first Contriver, Causer, or Accomplice,
Audaciously concern'd in his Redemption,
Shou'd strait receive whatever Gift,
Reward, or Boon, their utmost Wish cou'd ask,
Or you your self had lawful Power to grant.
Han.
Ha!
Iza.
And now, pursuant to this Law proclaim'd,
(Which here I offer as the Witness of
My Right) I come with an undoubting Joy
To name this vile Offender of your Law,
And from your Honour bound to claim my just Reward.
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Thou hast allarm'd me now indeed.
Pac.
Confusion!
Iza.
Which, that you may with less Reluctance grant,
I will not only name, but instant yield
The dire Offender now into your power,
To slake the Thirst of your inflam'd Revenge.
Han.
Nay then, without a Pang, our Doubts reliev'd
Dare yet assure thee of thy full Reward,
Which by those solemn Vows, the publick Ear
Can witness, we have taken to confirm
Again, we swear without reserve to pay.
Now then, be thou as quick in thy performance,
Produce th'Offender, and receive thy Wishes.
Iza.
Behold then, here th'Offender stands!
Your Prison forc'd was Izadora's Crime:
And tho' my weaker Sex deny'd my Arm
To execute so resolute a Deed,
Yet my more daring Heart contriv'd the means
By Prayers, and Letters to a Roman Youth,
I wrought his Friendship to my Hopes distress'd,
And with his generous Sword redeem'd my Father.
Not but I pride me in the glorious Guilt,
And stand prepar'd to meet my Punishment,
Which, be it all your Fury can inflict,
The dear Reward of my Discovery
Will render light, as your Revenge on Blacius:
For know, the Boon demanded of thy Justice—
Han.
Hold!
Beware, I charge thee, in thy rash demand;
And tho' thou'st caught my Honour in this Snare,
Think not when that's discharg'd, if thou insult'st
My Power, my tame Revenge shall sleep to thee:
For by the Fury of our Rage defy'd,
That moment thou but nam'st thy Father's Life,
That wrethed Father shall himself, upon
That Scaffold rais'd for him, behold thee bleed.
Pac.
Well urg'd again! then yet there may be hopes!
[Aside.
Han.
Now make at thy own Peril thy demand,
I've warn'd thee well, yet stand prepar'd to grant.
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Then yet—whatever Death the All-just Gods
Design for me—Give me the Life of Blacius!
People.
Huzzah! Justice! Justice! Huzzah!
Han.
Yes! yes! y'unthinking Herd! you shall have Justice,
So too will Hannibal; your Holiday
Not yet is lost: You shall have Blood to stare on,
Tho' pleas'd to think your Favourite Blacius sav'd,
Yet you shall see, since we forewarn'd her Fate,
Before his Face this subtile Traytress bleed!
—Bind! bind her Hands—yet hold—for now perhaps
Convinc'd, that we have firm resolv'd thy Death,
The Terror may dissuade thy rash demand.
Iza.
Weak Hannibal, who staggering thus thy self,
Presum'st to measure by thy own Resolves
The firmer Daring of a Roman Soul:
Revenge be thine; Give me the Life of Blacius.
Han.
Provoking Virtue! in a Female Soul!
Where have I liv'd, that never yet conceiv'd the Charm?
The Charm indeed! 'tis Witchcraft! Spells! Inchantment!
I feel my Virtue struggling in the Snare,
And must destroy her to preserve my self!
Away! the Sorceress! Hence! dispatch her! Haste,
And rid me of this Hurry in my Blood!
Quick, Slaves! while yet I have the Power to end her.
As they lead Izadora to the Scaffold, Perolla breaks through the Guards to Hannibal.
Per.
Hold! hold, injurious Hannibal! nor let the Blood
Of Innocence defame thy blind Revenge:
Behold the Nobler Object of thy Rage,
That makes it Justice, and instructs thy Fury,
To bribe thy Mercy to that tender Maid!
Behold Perolla, who provokes thy Vengeance!
Whose Arm when free has been as much thy Terror,
As now when bound in Chains 'twill be thy Safety;
Whose Guardian Sword in the contested Field
So oft has cut the hopes of thy Ambition,
Which the Lucalians, Samnites, Cassilinum,
Th'Appulians, and Petilia shall record to Ages:
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Victorious in the Field; but to thy Arms
Disgrace, to thy Head Quarters came disguis'd,
Ev'n in thy Army's Centre forc'd thy Prisons,
Destroy'd thy Guards, and in thy Powers Contempt
Restor'd the Freedom of thy Foe condemn'd.
Han.
Audacious Virtue!
Per.
Nay, and who now was come, Resolv'd (but that
His pious Daughter had foredone my purpose)
To stop like her the Fury of thy lost Revenge,
(Unless thou dar'st to break thy Honour's Bonds)
By my demanded Pardon for the Life of Blacius.
Pac.
Horror!
Iza.
O most untimely Virtue!
Per.
But since the Blood of Izadora is
The Price decreed of thy extorting Mercy—
Iza.
Hold!
Oh! Hold, unkind Perolla—O! Glorious Hannibal!
Yet e're the Rashness of his Virtue moves
To supersede the Claim of Izadora,
Permit me but to offer him a started Thought,
And by the hopes of suffering Innocence,
So far is what I ask from means t'oppose,
That yet I swear to double your Revenge.
Han.
Such daring Spirits have I never seen;
Thou hast our leave, propose thy Thought, and ease
Me quick of this unactive Wonder.
[Iza. seems to Argue with Perolla.
Now! now, Pacuvius, help me in this strait
Of tempted Honour, and oppos'd Revenge,
Pac.
Let my Example then inflame thy Soul!
The lost Perolla, I perceive, as much
Abhors your Person as your height of Glory;
In that one Thought, he is no more my Son,
No more am I his Father, but his Foe;
Let then his Blood, offensive to us both,
At once sate your Revenge and my Displeasure,
There's Glory in so just a Sacrifice.
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(Aside ...)
Amazement still!
Is't possible a Soul so weak with Spleen
Can be the Sire of so much healthy Virtue? (... Aside)
Per.
My Death to save thee were a Pleasure: But,
Iza,
Can dying with me give thy Thoughts a pain?
Per.
O! that Inchanting Softness in thy Looks
Prevails,—and yet—'tis hard!
Iza.
For me, Perolla,
To make our Virtue try'd Immortal, as our Love!
Per.
I cannot bear the painful Onset of
Thy Eyes intreating! O! I yield! 'tis done!
And thus I trust thy Virtue with my Fame!
[Per. and Iza. kneel to Hannibal.
Now truly Conquering Hannibal, behold,
Submissive at thy Feet thy Foe subdu'd,
Now asking Pardon of thy Pow'r defy'd:
For I confess, 'twas pleasure to provoke thee,
While I propos'd my Life resign'd might save
The Innocent: But since our harder Fate
Destroys us both by thy divided Mercy—
Iza.
Since my vain Life, by great Perolla sav'd,
Must leave my Father still expos'd to Death,
And me in greater Torment from such Life accepted—
Per.
Since in our strictest Search of Fate, we find
No hope of mutual or of parted Happiness,
We now implore our Crimes to thee confest,
May share the Glory and the Punishment.
Iza.
Since both are wretched, tho but one shou'd bleed:
Per.
We beg in Mercy both—I cannot speak it.
Iza.
—Both may die together.
But for the joint Reward of our Discovery,
Which we're compell'd in Duty to demand.
Per.
And thou'rt in honour as firm bound to pay.
Iza.
With an united Claim—
Both.
We beg the Life of Blacius.
Pac.
Then perish both, and double your Revenge.
Han.
O weak Pacuvius! that canst think Revenge
Consists in timely granting their Desires,
The smart of Body is the Vulgar's Terror;
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No Pain like Obligations to the Brave,
Great Souls by Greater only are subdu'd—
Release the Prisoner, and conduct him hither.
People.
Huzzah!
Pac.
Vain Hannibal! are these a Statesman's Maxims?
Han.
Shall it be said by Time's succeeding Tongues,
That Fortune set me up a Foe, whom Fear
Advis'd me to secure, or that pale Envy
Took shamefully the safe Advantage of
His chanc'd Misfortunes to destroy him? No,
The World shall see, that Hannibal in spite
Of his ador'd Ambition dares be Great:
First then to thee, Pacuvius, I restore
That Son thy Friendship wou'd have sacrific'd,
And to Perolla, as his Virtue's due,
I give him to his Life his Liberty:
To thee most wondrous Maid—
Pac.
Yet hold! while I have cause to thank thee.
Han.
What I resolve shall thank it self.
Pac.
The Galling Thought!
Han.
To thee, bright Excellence, whose softer Charms
Might look the rugged Lion to Compassion
From a Superiour Claim, than what my Honour is
Engag'd to pay thy most amazing Piety,
To thee I yield the forfeit Life of Blacius.
Iza.
O Godlike Hannibal!
[Bla. Iza. and Per. kneel.
Han.
—No Thanks be paid,
For Hannibal stands more obliged to you,
On whose firm Virtues prov'd I raise my own:
But lest your Thanks, refus'd shou'd give you pain,
From thee, Perolla, I shall pleas'd receive 'em:
Haste to the Field, and thank me with thy Sword;
Rally thy scatter'd Legions, and oppose
Me, bold in Arms, as thou hast dar'd for Love;
Then when I meet thee most, my Glorious Foe,
I'll call thee Vanquish'd, grateful to my Fame.
Per.
Instructed thus, I am inspir'd to Thank thee:
This grateful Sword, in thy fierce Arms oppos'd,
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What Hazards in this Mercy thou hast dar'd,
To climb the Precipice of Martial Glory.
Victor, or Vanquish'd, I'll record thy Fame.
Pac.
Now vain inglorious Hannibal! to think
Thou canst conceal from the discerning World
The Native Colour of this half-painted Virtue:
Wou'dst thou ascribe to Thirst of Glory, what
So gross we see proceeds from Abject Love?
Not Conquering Izadora's Virtues, but
Her Eyes Victorious have subdu'd thy Honour! Gods!
Is then the Trust of Carthage thus discharg'd,
By granting publick Mercy to her Foes?
O shame to Arms! that Honour, Justice, Fame,
Shou'd lose their Force for a vain Smile of a Woman?
A Flame, which Health of Sense will never own,
Like Madness when 'tis cur'd, it ever was possess'd with.
Han.
Injurious Man! whose rash unslak'd Revenge
Wou'd stain a Soul, that soars above thy Slander.
But to confirm the conscious World, and thee,
That Hannibal disdains so base a Thought,
Since Love has chang'd their Hearts, and grateful Blacius,
As I am told, approves their mutual Fires,
My Innocence thus joins their Hands for ever.
Per.
Now, on my Soul, this Virtue pains my Sense,
My swelling Heart's oppress'd with Obligations.
O Blacius! Portius! Izadora!
Pac.
Horror on Horror still! O! Rage of Pain!
My Son insultant mingling with curs'd Blacius Blood!
Have I for this abjur'd my Country's Cause?
Despis'd the honest World's long held esteem;
Sold my dear Fame, and cheated of the Price!
Han.
Let my Example teach thee Temper.
Pac.
Perish thy tame Philosophy!
Low, as I am, my spiteful Stars shall see
Not all their Malice cou'd subdue Pacuvius!
And since my fatal Services to thee
Are now at last Barbarian-like return'd
With thy ungrateful Mercy to my Foe,
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That Life I only valu'd as a Plague to Blacius,
Seeing him bless'd, 'tis time shou'd be no more.
[Stabs himself.
Han.
O horrid Act!
Per.
My Father!—
Iza.
O dire Distraction!
Pac.
Since my sole Joy in Being was my spite,
To Blacius Blood, 'twas then Relief to die,
When 'twas in vain to hate him.
[Dies.
Han.
Death only cou'd subdue so fierce a Passion.
Look up, Perolla, and restrain thy Tears:
Thy Honour and thy Love demand thy Care:
At once to free thee then from farther Fears,
This fair one, Blacius, Portius, and thy self,
Shall have our leave immediate to depart;
A Squadron strait of our Numidian Horse
Shall be detatch'd your Convoy to the Consul.
People.
Huzzah!
Bla.
And now from this Day's strange Events we see
By what small Accidents the Gods maintain
Against Man's vain Presumption their Decrees:
But hence an Hour, and the dire Sword was drawn,
That shou'd have pierc'd the streaming Life of Blacius,
While fierce Pacuvius in too warm pursuit
Of his Revenge advis'd the means, that lost it,
And he who came assur'd to glut his Eyes
With vengeful Pleasure at the Tragedy,
Now lies himself sole Actor in the Scene:
And last to crown their unforeseen Resolves,
That all things might in course of Justice move,
Perolla's bless'd with Izadora's Love.
FINIS.
| Perolla and Izadora | |