University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

A Grove in the Cordeliers Garden, where Julio is discover'd lying extended on the Ground in a melancholly posture.
Enter Lorenzo, and Fryar Stephen.
Lor.
Well Fryar Stephen, is my Brother here?

Step.
My Lord he is.

Lor.
What brought him?

Step.
I train'd him hither.

Lor.
How?

Step.
I thought these wide, and Solitary Gardens,
Wou'd suit his Melancholly, and our Purpose.
I sought him long in vain, for Love had forc'd him,
Down to the fatal Road, that leads to Milan:
Through which his Terimanta just had past:
And there I found him lost in Thought profound.
Now—with swift steps he went along the Road,
As if he wou'd pursue her—Then o'th' sudden—
Stop'd in his full Carrier, and stood a while,
With his Eyes fixt by Sorrow on the Ground,
And then by Rage turn'd up to Heaven—
Long I survey'd his Agony of Soul,
And long I try'd before I cou'd prevail
To get him to our Monast'ry; where enter'd,
He shot from me, and fled into these Gardens,
And here has been e're since.

Lor.
'Tis well,—and are our Friends yet come?

Step.
Some are, the rest I expect each moment.

Lor.
Let none but Friends have entrance.

Step.
That Caution's needless.

Lor.
Well then retire.

Step.
I will—but not too far,
I know your fiery Temper, that may ruine
All we propose, if not by me prevented.
[Exit Fryar!

Lor.
This is the gloomiest part of all the Grove,
And here I sure shall find him—Ha! there he lies!
Extended on the Margin of the Brook
Lost in profoundest Thought!—Oh! Pow'r of Love!
That thus converts all to it self, like Fire!
Time was, when the loud Trumpet, and the Drum,
The Groans of dying Foes, the Victors Shouts,
Were his Delight; now Melancholly Airs,
And lonely Grotto's are his only Pleasure.
But I must rouse him—
[Goes to him.
What Wretch art thou, that at this dusky Hour
Hast chose this hard bleak Lodging? By my Fears
My Brother!—Julio! why in this sad Posture?
And why these heaving Sighs, and dismal Groans,
That add to the brown Horrours of the Grove?
Julio, I say, now by my Soul, what means this?

Jul.
Who e're thou art, that by ill Fortune guided,
Dost deviate to the Haunts of my Despair,
Begone, and fly me, as thou woud'st the Plague,
My Fortune is infectious, the Contagion
Will blast thy Happiness, if thou stay near me.

Lor.
I have no Happiness, while you have none,
Thy Brother, and thy Friend wou'd shun Repose,
While thy Despair thus shakes thy noble Frame.
But come, rise up, my Brother, rise, for shame;
For by my Hopes, I wou'd not for the World,
That any but my self shou'd find thee thus.
What a vile Image wou'd it give of Julio,
To be found groaning here beneath a Load
That Action shou'd remove—If thou art wrong'd,
Thy Virtue, and thy Arm shou'd do thee Right.

Julio rises and comes forward.
Jul.
Oh! my Brother—

Lor.
I am thy Friend, speak out!
Let me but know thy Wrongs, and if I suffer
Thee thus to languish, say I am no Friend,
Renounce Lorenzo.

Jul.
Oh! is it possible,
Thou shoud'st not know the Cause of all my Woe?
Be sure if this Right Hand cou'd do me Justice,
Thou had'st not found me here.

Lor.
When last I saw thee,
I at the Altar saw thee, blest with Love;
With Teraminta.

Jul.
Ha! name not Teraminta!
If thou woud'st have me keep my stragling Senses.

Lor.
Why is she false?

Jul.
Most true.

Lor.
Or dead!

Jul.
Ah! dead!
To me at least!
Oh she is gone! from me she's gone for ever!

Lor.
Gone? gone whither! how! and for what Reason?

Jul.
Divorc'd! torn from me! on my Wedding day.

Lor.
What Force cou'd wrest her from thy Arms?

Jul.
My Father.

Lor.
My Father? why shou'd he? Besides you've been
Always his Darling; Have you not provok'd him
By some strange vile offence?

Jul.
Oh! never!—never yet did I offend him;
Just Heav'n can witness all my unhappy Life.
A Piety inviolate I've paid him.

Lor.
Then 'tis plain Tyranny.

Jul.
'Tis indeed
Severe.

Lor.
Severe!—down right Barbarity!

Jul.
His Hate to her Father, and his Fears for Florence—

Lor.
What cou'd he hate in her? or what fear from her?
A Woman, tender, innocent, and young!

Jul.
A Soul so soft too!—so remov'd from Mischief—

Lor.
Come, come 'tis plain, he cou'd not hate, nor fear her;
And 'tis meer Lust of Cruelty in his Nature.

Jul.
What e're it is, he is my Father still!

Lor.
Because his Children, must we be his Slaves?

Jul.
Oh! Heav'n! what can I do?—yes,—yes, Lorenzo,
I know how much severely I am dealt with,
And feel the Rigour of my Slavery;
The Agony of Teraminta's Loss!—but—

Lor.
Her Loss indeed, more truely than you mean!—
Where is she gone? what guards her from ill Fortune?
The Injuries of Chance? and Hazards of the Camp?

Jul.
Oh! All ye Pow'rs!

Lor.
Perhaps you think, she's with her Father safe,
But oh! reflect that he's to Milan fled,
A Prince, whose Will, whose Fancy is his Law,
Nor too much fam'd for keeping of his Word,
Or for the Rights of Hospitality,
When e're his Lust, or his Ambition prompts him.

Jul.
Oh! Brother! O Friend! Oh! do not rack my Soul.

Lor.
But were no Danger there, and lost Rinaldo,
Still leading on his Troops against this City.
Think that thou saw'st the adverse Armies join'd;
Rinaldo beaten; now his Camp surpris'd;
Our Souldiers plundring; thy chast Wife a Prize
To some vile Slave! the Beauteous Teraminta,
With Hair disheveld, swoln, with Tears her Eyes;
Her silver Voice grown Hoarse with calling on thee,
Calling in vain to free her from the Arms,
From the Embraces, of some lustful Villain—

Jul.
No more—least I grow wild with the dire Image.
What can be done to save my Teraminta?

Lor.
I soon cou'd show the way.

Jul.
Oh! do it quickly.

Lor.
Yes cou'd I think you truly Lov'd her.

Jul.
Love her! Life to her is vile!—shew the Way,
Tho' Life, Fame, Glory, all were lost I'd on.

Lor.
The way I offer brings you no such Hazzards;
But Life, Fame, Honour, Glory, Wealth, and Love.

Jul.
Oh! my best Friend, Restorer of my Peace:
Delay not, but inform me.

Lor.
Remember,
If thou let slip that bright occasion,—now
'Tis gone for ever.

Jul.
Rack me not, proceed.

Lor.
Florence, you know since first it shook the Yoak
O'th' Empire off, was for four Hundred Years
Still Govern'd by the Nobles, by them Defended
From Foreign Foes, and from Domestick Broils;
Thus under their Auspicious Rule she grew
In Empire, Fame, and Wealth; till the proud People
Uneasy with their Happiness, Rebell'd,
And threw their Benefactors from the Helm.
What had Ensu'd, but Rapin, and Destruction,
Had not some Noble Spirit then arose
And Re-inthron'd the Lords!

Jul.
Prethee no more—
Divert this tedious, and unwellcome Tale,
And come to what you promis'd.

Lor.
Know then,—Rinaldo, too generous to sit down
With this new Ruin of his Country, comes
With a most potent Army to its Rescue.
Thousands of Noble Florentines expect him,
And tho' the bravest, greatest of our City,
All long to call you Chief.
Thus you redeem the Errours of our House,
Preserve your self and Love—Tho' I am safe,
I cannot think I am, while you're in Danger.

Jul.
So you wou'd have me be a Traytor.

Lor.
No, I wou'd have you cease to be so—be Loyal—
'Tis Treason to oppose, and not assist
Those, that restore our ancient Laws, and Rights.

Jul.
You have forgot sure, that you have a Father.

Lor.
When he forgets the Nature of a Father,
Which Name implies all Tenderness, and Love;
And grows a Tyrant, lays aside all Justice,
Truth, Reason, and the Ties of Conscience, I'd cease
To think my self his Son.

Jul.
I say—no more—
Least I suspect, you never meant me well.

Lor.
He is a Man, and by his Passions swaid—
Whence else his causeless hate of Teraminta?
He is Ambituous too, and Cruel—Witness
His poor Descent to court for Pow'r the Vulgar?
His Treatment of Rinaldo's House, and thee?

Jul.
Lorenzo, if yet thou woud'st preserve
My Love, or Patience—urge this Point no farther.

Lor.
If he shou'd please himself with Sacriledge,
As well, as Treason; for the public Good
Expel Religion, as he has the Nobles,
Will Duty bind us to partake his Crimes?

Jul.
I will not hear thee.

Lor.
But by your Wrongs you shall.
Come, this is Peevishness, meer Biggottry of Duty,
'Tis thy Disease, and I thy Friend will Cure.

Jul.
Friend!—'tis false!—now by my Soul Lorenzo,
Thou hast done basely by me—Wert thou a Friend,
And had'st a Cause, that Virtue durst avow,
Thou woud'st have taken me in my greatest Calm,
And offer'd it to my unruffled Reason.
But conscious of the Vileness of the Fact,
Thou'st meanly watch'd my Hurricane of Soul,
And work'd my Passion to surprize my Honour
Into a Crime against my Father;
Against my Source of Being.

Lor.
Against a Tyrant, whom my Soul disowns.

Jul.
As mine does thee—begone—begone—and leave me—
See me no more—

Lor.
See thee no more?—no obstinate dull Fool,
Fond of that Misery, thou canst not bear.

Jul.
I can bear any thing but thee—begone—

Lor.
Oh! 'tis thy stupid Slavishness of Temper!—
A fawning Spaniels Temper—a Dog's Virtue
To lick the hand, that beats him—oh! had'st thou
The Spirit of a weak, and puling Girle,
Thou coud'st not bear it.

Jul.
I shall not bear thy Insolence.

Lor.
'Tis false—thou wilt, thy Nature's made to bear.

Jul.
Go to—you're a Boy—a foolish headstrong Boy—

Lor.
Boy!

Jul.
A Villain e're a Man.

Lor.
Villain! ha!—

[Claps his hand to's Sword
Jul.
Why shou'd the Name offend? the thing thou own'st.
The Place protects thee, or I wou'd prevent
The Ax, the Ax, and punish thee my self.

Lor.
[Drawing]
It is a Cowards Refuge—
Else thou durst sooner urge a hungry Lion,
Than thus provoke me—But draw—there
Is no Refuge for thee here.

Jul.
Rash Boy.

[They draw, enter Fryar Stephen and interposes
Step.
Now by the Honours of this Sacred Place,
What irreligious Fury arms your Hands?
My Lord, Lorenzo, you have been to blame.

Lor.
He urg'd me beyond the Patience of a Coward—
But I have done—Go, go, go home—betray,
Betray thy Brother, as thou hast done thy Wife:
To an inhumane Father offer both.

Jul.
Repent, repent Lorenzo—
For me Thou'rt safe—but oh! repent thy Madness,
E're Heav'ns avenging Justice overtake thee.

Lor.
Repent thee of thy Folly,
And think of Teraminta!—so I leave thee

[Exit with Priest
Jul.
Think of Teraminta! ha! that Name
Again awakes my Fears; and sets before me
The gastly Image of those dreadful Suff'rings,
She is expos'd to!—Oh! my Virtue hold!
Oh! Piety now hold me firm, and fixt,
Or I am lost for ever—
[Pauses.
Oh! 'tis enough, that I am Miserable,
I'll not be guilty too!—ha! not guilty!
Have I forgot the Breach of Nuptial Vows,
My broaken Oaths to wretched Teraminta!

Enter Fryar Stephen with Teraminta.
Fryar.
You've heard the Pleasure of Lord Rimini,
And what he did command, I've sworn to do
With this sharp consecrated Poiniard on this spot.

[talk together
Jul.
Throw thy abandon'd Body on the Ground,
With thy bear Breast lie wedded to the Dew,
Then as thou drink'st the Tears, that trickle from thee,
So stretch'd, resolve to lie till Death shall seize thee,
Thy sorrowful Head hung o're some tumbling stream,
To rock thy Griefs with Melancholly Sounds,
With Broaken Murmurs, and redoubl'd Groans,
To help the gurgling of the Water's Fall.

Ter.
I am instructed
Since then my Life's at stake, you need not doubt,
But I will act with all the Force I can,
Let me intreat you leave me here alone
Some Minutes, and I'll call you to the conquest.
[Exit Priest.
Oh! Julio! Ah! what Face of Death is this.

Jul.
Oh! Heav'n! I cannot bear it! will not bear it?
Yes, I will ask the cruel Pow'rs
For what bold Sin, they doom the wretched Julio
To such a Loss, as that of Teraminta.
Oh! Teraminta, I will groan thy Name
Till the tir'd Eccho faint with Repetition,
Till all the breathless Grove, and quiet Myrtles,
Shake with my Sighs, as if a Tempest bow'd 'em.
Nothing but Teraminta! Ah my Teraminta!

Ter.
Nothing but Julio; Julio and Teraminta!
[he starts up.
Thus let me rob the Fountains, and the Groves,
Thus gird thee to me in the fastest Knot
[Embraces.
Of Arms, and Spirits, that thou wou'd clasp thee through,
Cold, as thou art, and wet with Nights faln Dews,
Yet dearer so, thus richly dress'd in Sorrows,
Then if the God's had hung thee round with Kingdoms.
Oh! Julio! oh!

Jul.
I find thee Teraminta!
Wak'd from a fearful Dream, and hold the fast!
'Tis real—and I give thee back thy Joys!
Thou boundless Love, with Pleasures running o're,
Leap to my Heart, and now defie the Stars.
[Embrace.
But oh! why do we loose this precious moment?
Let's be before hand with our Fortune, and leave
Th'unwholesome Damps of this contagious Air.

Ter.
O Julio! you must hear me first,
I bring a Message from my furious Father;
I promis'd, nay I was sworn not to touch you,
Till I had charm'd you to Rinaldo's Party.

Jul.
Ha Taraminta! not to touch thy Husband
Unless he prove a Villain?

Ter.
Julio no,
I'm sworn to tell you, that you are a Traytor
If you refuse to fight the Nobles Quarrel.

Jul.
Hold Teraminta—

Ter.
No, my Lord, 'tis plain;
And I am sworn to lay my Reasons home.
Rouse then, awake; recall your sleeping Virtue.
Side with Rinaldo; arm against your Father;
Take part with those, who Loyally have Sworn
To let him in by Night—Valori,
Castrucio, and your Brother are at hand.
Therefore I charge you hast, Subscribe your Name,
And send your vow'd Assistance to my Father.
'Tis Teraminta, that intreats you thus,
Charms and, conjures you; tell them Instantly
You'll Head their Enterprize; for you the People
Doat on, as sure as all Mankind must.
And then my Love, my Lord, I will obey you.

Jul.
Never, I swear—
Oh Teraminta! thou hast broke my Heart,
By all my Hopes from thee this was too much!
Farewell—and take this with thee—for—thy—sake,
I will not Fight against, nor for Rinaldo.
I'll fly my Father, Brother, Friends for ever,
Forsake the Haunts of Man; converse no more
With ought, that's humane. But dwell in endless Darkness;
For since the sight of thee is now unwellcome,
What can Light show me else, that I can bear?

[Going.
Ter.
Come back, my Lord, by those Immortal Pow'rs
We once invok'd, I'll fix you in this Virtue—
And if thy Teraminta, by the Frailty
Of Sex, and Love betray'd, cou'd wish for Life
A while to enjoy her much lov'd Lord, her Julio:
Do but reflect; remember she's a Woman,
The natural Slave to Fear, and fond Desires.
But since I find thee obstinate in Virtue,
I'll die to root thee in this solid Glory!
Yes, yes, my Julio, tho' my Death is Sworn,
I'll never press thee more to be unfaithful.

Jul.
Thy Death, and Sworn! by whom? where? how?

Ter.
The African Bridge I scarce, as yet had reach'd,
When Rimini my Cousin banish'd hence,
This very day o're took me—
Drove me aside into his Country Villa,
And swore me to attempt thy honour thus.
Won more by hopes of seeing thee again,
If but to die with thee, than aw'd by Threats,
I yielded to his Will.
He in the Dusk of Ev'ning brought me back,
And gave to Fryar Stephen this Commission,
To stab me in your Presence if not wrought
To serve the Nobles Cause; but by your Honour
Keep to that Point your Constancy has gain'd.

Jul.
Oh! all ye Pow'rs!

Ter.
Yet oh! my Julio, if you see Rinaldo
Hereafter with his Wounds upon the Earth,
Julio for my sake, for poor Teraminta,
Who rather dy'd, than you shou'd loose your Honour.
Do not you strike him, do not dip your Sword
In his dear Blood, because he was my Father.

Jul.
No Teraminta, no by all my Hopes,
I will defend him ev'n against my Father.
See see, my Love, behold the Flight I take;
What all the Ties of Brotherhood, and Friendship?
What all the Charms of thy expected Bed
Cou'd not once move my Soul to think of acting?
Thy Tears, and menac'd Death, by which thou striv'st
To fix me in the Principles of Glory,
Have wrought me off.

Ter.
Is then your purpos'd honour come to this.

Jul.
Thy Death! thy Death, my Love,
I'll think on that, and laugh at boasted Honour,
Glory, Blood, Nature, Ties of Reverence,
The Dues of Birth, Respect of Parents, all,
All are, as this the Air I drive before me.
What Hoa! Castrucio, and Valori come,
And thou, O! Fatal Priest make hast, approach,
I'm ready for the Leap, I'll take it with you,
Tho' deep, as to the Fiends.

Ter.
Thus hear me Julio.

[Kneels.
Jul.
Off from thy Knees away;
What on this Theam thy Death, and stab'd before me!
Enter Fryar Stephen, Lorenzo, Castrucio, Valori.
Speak not—I will not hear thee on this Subject.
O Lorenzo! excuse thy Brother's Frailty,
Nor think I lov'd thee less, for yielding now
Unmov'd by thee!—Upbraid me not Lorenzo,
But tho' I'm lost, oh! save thy self my Brother!
And leave me to my single Ruin!

Lor.
No, no, my Friend, if Ruin must attend thee,
I'm pleas'd to fall with thee—

Jul.
Castrucio, and Valori, wellcome, wellcome!
I'll joyn you in this Conjuration—come,
I am as free, as he that dares be formost.

Ter.
My Lord! my Husband!

Jul.
Take this Woman from me!
Nay look you Sirs, I am not yet so gone,
So headlong neither into this Design,
To quench my horrid Thirst, with Cosmo's Blood.
No, by th'eternal Pow'rs I bar you that.
My Father shall not bleed.

Lor.
You cou'd not think
Your Brother sure so monstrous in his kind,
As not to make his Father's Life his Care.

Jul.
Thus then, my Lords, I list my self among you,
And with my Pen, in short, subscribe my self
Rinaldo's Servant—The words are these.
Julio to Rinaldo.
Sir, you need only know my Brother's mind
To judge of mine, who am resolv'd to serve you.

Step.
'Tis full enough.

Exeunt all but Julio and Teraminta.
Jul.
Then leave me to the hire
Of this hard Labour; to the dear bought Prize,
Whose Life I purchass'd with my Loss of Honour.
Come to my Breast thou Tempest beaten Flow'r
Brim full of Rain, and stick upon my Heart!
Oh! short liv'd Rose! yet I some hours will wear thee,
Yes by yon Stars, I'll smell thee till I languish,
Rifle thy Sweets, and run the o're and o're,
Fall like the Night upon thy folding Beauties,
And clasp the Dead; then like the Morning Sun,
With a new Heat kiss thee to Life again,
And make the Pleasure equal to the Pain.

Exeunt.