 | The False Friend, Or, the Fate of Disobedience |  |
ACT V.
Enter Brisac, and Bucarius.Bris.
This is the Grove, you say, wherein you did appoint
That Vile Companion of my Sisters Lust, a Meeting.
Buc.
It is. And he, bold in his Crimes, defied my
Challenge; and swore to answer with his Sword.
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Enough, The unlook'd for Infamy carry'd such a stain.
That my Heart detested to Communicate the Story,
Even to my nearest Friends—Therefore,
Thou Stranger, (as thou art) If I fail, I leave
To give my Father and the Enquiring World
A Just Account.
Buc.
Impartial Heav'n will avert your Fall I dont doubt;
However, by the Friendship I owe your Sisters Husband,
The wrong'd d' Englesack: I'le speak your Actions Nobly.
Bris.
Yet there is something more—
Buc.
Freely Declare your Pleasure.
Bris.
This Letter to the Princess Adellaida, the
Vice-roys only Daughter, deliver from my hand;
She will take care of you, and my wretched Sister.
Buc.
Conclude it done; unless your own Commands forbid it.
Bris.
No more. I see the Villain comming, my rising
Blood proclaims him so. Be gone; nor
Watch the Event: But leave the rest to Fate.
Buc.
Farewel, thou Gallant Man, Honour guide
Thy Sword thro' the Polluted Veins
Of that false Traytor.
Bris.
Farewel.
Buc.
[as he goes off.]
Fight, Fight, ye thick Skull'd Fools,
Till I part ye! Yet hereabouts my bus'ness is to Lurk—For
Whosoe'ere O'recomes, this Poysond Sword dispatches
Him; besides Roderigo, and choice Ruffians wait
Lest they shou'd Parley, and agree.
[Exit.
Enter Emilius.
Emil.
Art thou the bold Insulter o're my Fame; who
Unprovok'd forcest my Arm to Chastise
Thy Ill-manner'd Folly?
Bris.
So Haughty! But words are a Coward's Armour,
To hinder my Suspicions—thou art such—
Speak only this, and then no mo—Hast thou not
Brought from France a Fair False Woman
Call'd Lovisa
Emil.
The truest, and most Charming of her Sex—
I own I have—
Bris.
Hold—Now use thy Sword; for mine
Is eager to be thee.
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Heav'n Witness, I was never backward—
Heav'n also knows my Soul is free from fear:
Yet there is something in that Form, which stay's my Arm:
Sure 'tis the Resemblance of my Lovisa!
Bris.
Thine, Villain! Thine! Come on; or I shall
Take thee unprepar'd.
Emil.
Disputes thou her! Nay then, farewell
All thoughts of Peace—
[They Fight, Brisac falls.
My Sword has pierc'd thee—
Yet I tremble for't—am strangely
Shockt! As if I had receiv'd the Wound I had given!
Bris.
Thou hast indeed, o're come; tho I appeal to
Honors Rules; and Justifie the Attempt.
Enter Bucarius.
Buc.
Ha! My Friend! I'le stretch my pinnion'd Arm,
And burst tho new Sodder'd Sinews to Revenge thee!
Emil.
Beset!
Bris.
Hold base Man! Nor call me Friend, and practise
Villany like this! Assist ye Powers, my weakness;
And let me throw my Body twixt their meeting Swords,
Emil.
Thou art Disarm'd.
[Rises.
Bris.
And you are Wounded.—
Emil.
And to be felt, a Scratch!
Buc.
[aside.]
You have both your Banes: And now I'le
Leave ye.
[Exit.
Emil.
But—What art thou? What unequal'd Hero—
Who in the last Efforts of Life, struglest
To save thy Enemy?
Bris.
Justice was still the Master of my Actions—That
Urg'd me now to save thee: That prompted me
To take thy Life, for the abuse of my lov'd Sister.
Emil.
Thy Sister! Speak that agen—But let a
Dreadful Bolt of Bellowing Thunder follow,
And strike me past the Sense of ever hearing more!
Bris.
Lovisa! To whom, tho' my Veins empty a pace,
Blush to own, is my Sister: Marry'd to the Count
D'Englesack—and this—Oh
Emil.
My Wife I swear; as sure as the Destruction
This Curs'd Deed has Drawn upon me—But
Oh no further Talk; no Words—Lean, and
Let me bear thee to the adjoyning Palace of
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To stay thy Fleeting Life.
Bris.
To Appamia's!—My Lab'ring Heart
Beats quicker at the thought—There I may
See—But I will not Name her—She
Shall be happy, and I forgot.
Emil.
Lean, Sir yet more—Yonder I spy some
That may assist Us—Oh Fate! Oh Lovisa!
How shall I ever dare appear before thee;
Thus sprinkl'd with thy Brother's Blood?
[Exeunt.
Re-enter Bucarius, and Roderigo.
Buc.
The Victims are ready for the Sacrifice—Now let 'em
Dye in whining Tales; and hope Elysium; whilst I Seize
My exasperated Heroine.—And
Retire, till the Storm is past.
Rod.
What's your Design?
Buc.
To abscond a while; and if the Murmurings prove
Too loud at Us: To fly to the Indies; and there Revel
In Love and Pleasure; too great for Laws;
And happy above the reach of Fate.
Rod.
I ask but to partake your Fortunes;
Which ever way they Bend.
Buc.
You shall Command 'em—hast to Appamia
The humble way I need no longer move,
She dares not, cannot now deny her Love
Her Guilt, and Rival Rage her scorn Disarms,
I'm paid with nothing but her long'd for Charmes.
Exeunt
SCENE, Changes.
Enter Adellaida, and Amedia.
Adel.
How every Sense, is out of Tune, wounded and broken:
When the Minds disorder'd, through these Antique
Cloisters have I walk'd alone, at the silent Solemn
Midnight Hour; without the least fear, or apprehension—
Yet now a Gloomy Evening; and the Fatal Chance
Of the proceeding Day strikes me with horror:
Each Marble Pillar seems a shrouded Ghost;
And the hollow Winds Eccho like their Groans!
Amid.
Go back dear Madam! For sure there is unusual Terror
Adel.
On; and seek Appamia: I have made thee
A Coward, by my Fears.
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Bris.
Here let me Rest; any further Motion gives me present Death.
Emil.
Gently set him down, whilst I fetch help—
Whose there—My Adellaida.
Adel.
[returning.]
Is it Emilius calls?
Emil.
That Wretch Emilius! Oh Sister! This cursed Hand,
And this unhappy Sword, I fear has slain a
Gentleman: Whom now to save I willingly wou'd Dye!
Adel.
What Gentleman!
Emil.
The Brother to Lovisa my Wife! Behold!
Adel.
Ah! Murder! Murder! My Love! My Husband
[Falls. upon Bris.
Emil.
Darkness o'rewhelm me! What dost thou say?
Bris.
Thy Brother! Oh the strange work of Fate!
But upbrad him not; nor grieve too much,
My Charming Bride!
Upon thy Bosome let the poor Brisac Expire!
'Tis the Millky-way: And leads I hope to Heav'n!
[Dies.
Adel.
Thou sha't not go without me; come back;
Come back! Open thy Eyes Speak yet again!
Breath upon me—Alass his Breath is gone!
Some Angel hat caught the precious Sweet:
And Treasur'd it in Immortality!
Emil.
Her Griefs root me with stiff'ning Horror!
Pale Death Usurps the lively Red, that us'd to Adorn
His Face: What Villain with obdurate Heart
And cruel Eyes cou'd do this! But shall a Wife
Behold thee thus; and not Revenge Thee?—
Thy Dagger points, the way detested, and
Accurst I'le drive thy barbarous Soul to Shades
Below; if my Sight, almost Drown'd in Tears, can
Guide my feeble Arm!
Emil.
Strike boldly!
Adel.
Ha! my Brother! My Darling Brother!
Fall, fall thou Wretch! Strike, strike and wound
Thy self.
Emil.
What mean ye?
Adel.
Prevented then in Desparation, Dig the Earth up!
Force thy way through to the Center—or call upon
Yon ponderous Roof to Crush thee!
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Help Sir! I cannot hold her!
Emil.
What shall I do! prithee call my Father hither—
'Tis now too late to hide ought from him—
[Exit Amid.
Oh! That at first I had discover'd her Love, and mine
Adel.
My Father! Ah his Curse did this—a Parents
Curse brought on me all this World of Woe!
Since then Curses have the power to kill: I'le Curse
All humane Kind! And first for thee—Despair
Still gnaw thy Soul; when e're thou hop'st for Comfort,
May the deluding Vision vanish from thy Eyes; and
Such a Sight as my Brisac is now: Be thy
Perpetual Portion!
Emil.
I beg ye cease!
Adel.
Where's now the charming Syllables; that us'd to carry
Thrilling pleasure to my Heart; and melting softness
To my Eyes! 'Tis gone! 'Tis past for ever! Even the
Last Antidote against Despair, Hope, is gone!—
Then with never-ceasing Wailings fix here, on this
Dear dead Image, feed thy Soul with Sorrow; till
I grow Pale and Cold like my Sorrow Love: till
One Grave (the only Bridal Beremains)
Receive us both!
Emil.
Severely has my Fate Ordain'd, that I shou'd be
The cruel Cause of these Heart-wounded Griefs!
Enter Vice-roy, Amidia.
Vice.
What does this continual Voice of Sorrow mean?
Still to Alarm me with New Mischiefs!
Can the time, Measur'd by so few Hours,
Produce these various Scenes of Horror?
Is it Don Lopez, o're whom my Daughter Weeps?
Amid.
Not Don Lopez, but a Nobleman of France,
Who in the late Progress, gain'd the Heart, and
Since the Nuptial Vows of my unhappy Mistress!
Emil.
Oh Sir! Your Son, your wretched Son has done
All this—Commit me to the hardest Laws,
My Just Country Decrees—But Oh!
If e're in my Obedience I deserv'd your Favourur'd
If my Mother whose lov'd Memory you Treasur'd
As your greatest Bliss, Was dear to ye; when
Under the Ax, or on the Wrack I expire: Save
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To France: From whence I stole the unequal'd prize!
Vice.
Emilius here! My Eyes, and Ears thus entertain'd.
With Sights of Death, and Sounds of Marriage!
What mean these dismal Riddles?
Adel.
I can Explain 'em—See Sir your Power, you
Bid it Rain; and lo from my Eyes whole Deluges
Have pour'd—you said I shou'd behold
Pale Horror in the Face of him, I Lov'd
And look how dreadfully you are obey'd!
Vice.
Alass! 'tis dire Confusion all—But
Take her from the Body, and Guard her with special Care.
Adel.
Stand off! Indeed ye'are to blame,
[They go to take Adel away.
Do not Father; do not part us now—
I ask but this Cold Hand—I'le lay it to my
Heart; and it shall bring me Quiet;
Everlasting Quiet.
Vice.
Ye humour her distraction—to some
Apartment lead her—
Adel.
Let him come with me then—do, do, Inhumane
Creatures do; yet all your Forces cannot keep in Life
I have him still; I hold, I grasp him—
Ah me! Their cruel strength prevails,
Another Look—Ye Tygers, my Heart-strings
Swell, and Ach with painful stretching—
Once more, and they will burst—Yes, yes,
My pale dead Love—I shall—I will
O're take thee! I will, I will!
[Exit forced off.
Vice.
What have I done, Alonza; to deserve
Such Punishments? Henceforth never
Let Man build, in Earth his Happiness;
Since even our Children, whom we from Heav'n
are priviledg'd to Love, prove our greatest
Torments! To the Hall of Justice let this
Dead Lord be born; and Summon thither the
Alcade, and all the Officers—Oh Emilius!
How shall I behold thee now a Criminal to
Heav'n, and me! But I won't Chide thee
Lest thou shoulst suffer; and thy Father's words
Prove the sad Presages of ensuing Fate.
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You are too good; and I too guilty, for the Blessing
Of your forgiveness—I feel a Pain almost
Intolerable; where that Villain toucht me with his Sword.
Vice.
Lead to the Wife you nam'd so tenderly; and let us
Try to stop the further Current of these Misfortunes.—
Enter Lovisa, led by her Woman; her Hair down, Distracted, Wounded in her Bosome, and Arms.
—Ha! What Beauteous Wretch is this?
Emil.
My Lovisa! Or is it some Phantome, rais'd
For my Astonishment?
Lov.
Give me way, I am all Consuming Flames.
Unhand me. Let me Lanch my
Veins yet Deeper! They are all on Fire!
Blood cannot quench 'em! My Breath is
Flakes of Fire! My Eyes like flaming
Meteors Shoot! My Nerves, my Arteries,
Like Shrivell'd Parchment shrink in Fire—
I Burn; I Blaze; I Dye—Oh that I cou'd—
For Death they say is Cold!
Emil.
Speak, La Brette, the Cause; e're I Catch the
Madness! E're I grow Wild as Winds,
And Deaf as Storms!
Lab.
Thus did I find her mangling her own Flesh,
Tearing her lovely Hair; and Raging in these Direful
Torments.
Lov.
Off, off with these
Burning Robes! Dip 'em in some Spring,
Then Cover me agen; and let 'em Drop, and Drop
Upon my Fiery Heart; Or turn the Rivers
On me; Lap me in Cool refeshing Waves—
Give (Oh give) me Ease!
Emil.
Oh that I cou'd—that I cou'd know from whence
These Horrors come Look not thus Distractedly
Upon me Be Calm, my Love; be Calm!
And since there is no hope of Life: Let's Dye
In peace!
Vice.
My Son!
Emil.
Your Pardon Sir; I have no further wish—
The Business of my Hours is done!
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Alonza! Search, Inquire; these Pangs are greater
Than Nature gives.
Emil.
What Starts and what Convulsions
Dost thou bear! It must be Poison
But by whom?
Lov.
Ha! Yet another Blaze; Am I not
Consum'd? My Head is Ætna; All the Springs
Of Blood, Rowling Seas of Fire
Bear me to the Frozen North, lay me in a Bed
Of Snow, will ye not Emilius; No, 'tis impossible,
The Mass is all on Fire! Ay now the Fabrick
Falls, and I am Ashes.
Emil.
My Sisters Dagger, Death Lingers. Look up Lovisa.
Vice.
Alas Emilius! Think upon thy wretched Father!
Enter Bucarius, Dragging in Appamia, and Zelide.
Buc.
Come forth thou Woman! Angel in View
In Action Fiend! And thou Black
Accomplice; whose Looks and Deeds are
Parallel Come forth. My Breath
Will last, Spite of thy Bloody Hand,
To tell the Vice-roy, the Murders, thou hast Caus'd
Vice.
Bucarius Wounded! Which way shall I turn
My Bloodshot Eyes? Appamia!
Buc.
Curses instead of Pity: First upon her, and then on me
App.
Villain!
Buc.
I am Indeed a Villain. Love, which sooner or later
Ruins all Mankind; was my Destruction.
But, Oh! I find, I cannot end my Story
Appamia's Love set me on to Mischief, and when
I claim'd the promise, she had made
(For my Reward) Her person, and her
Wealth; She answered with a Blow
By a Poyson'd Dagger given Sieze
Her, and that Devil Moor They will finish
What I cannot Oh!
(Dies.)
Vice.
How, Madam! Guards put that
Infidel upon the Wrack immediately.
Zel.
I Offer up my Limbs; practise your Torments,
Yet not all the Agonies, Spain, or hell can.
In vent shall force Confession from me,
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App.
Oh thou Strik'st me deeper, than my Conscience;
'Twas my Command forc'd the unhappy Wretch;
Save her from the Wrack; And I will own the fatal Turth
Vice.
Appamia! Is't possible—Is this Lovely
Creature by thee Destroy'd?
App.
No; by Emilius
Emil.
I! did I? Falser than Malice in the Mouth
Of Envy! Invention blacker than Hell Creates!
App.
the Cordial (Fool!) 'tis true, it was by me
Prepar'd, but you convey'd it to the Charmers Lips.
Emil.
Hell and Despair! What cou'd provoke
Thee? How have I been Deceiv'd!
App.
Dull, and Insensible had I not Eyes,
As well as thy Lovisa? She saw and Lov'd,
And ventur'd all—So wou'd I
My Flames were Fiercer far than hers.
Which disappointed, turn'd to black Revenge,
Accomplish'd now, but Oh for thee, ungrateful
As thou wert, To thy Death I never did consent;
Not that I care to be believ'd, for all things now are
Equal with me: But when that dead Villain brought
The Fatal News, That with Invennom'd Steel he had
Touch'd thee; I with the Poyson'd Dagger, which he
Nam'd gave back the Blow, and there he lies at
Once the proof of my Revenge, and Love.
Vice.
How Terrible's a Womans rage; but the Law
Must speak thy Sentence: Secure 'em Guards.
App.
The Law! but will that end my Misery,—ha too
Late I begin to see the Fatal Ills my unhappy
Love has caus'd; My Zilide, who now shall Shield us
From the Terros of Despair? Let me for ever
Warn my Sex, and fright 'em from the thoughts of
Black Revenge, from being by Violent Passions
Sway'd. Murder! And am I the cause? Fall Mountains
On this Guilty Head, and let me think no more.
Vice.
Emilius—Is there any Hopes?
Emil.
Still there is warmth about her Heart
Her Eyes too Glimmer, like dying Tapers—
Oh my Lovisa! My Love has been thy Bane.
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I grow Cool Emilius; thou mayst receive me now,
And not be set on Fire—This I can bear—
Thus I cou'd have dy'd, And not Complain'd!
Emil.
what pains hast thou not born; what
Wracking Misery; When the Pangs of
Death are thought refreshing ease!
Hold off a little.—Thus let us meet,
Thus let me Clasp thee—Thus will
We Mount together.
(Stabs himself.)
Vice.
O Fatal End of all my Hopes!
Emil.
Farewel the blooming Expectation
Of a Prosperous Life—Also farewel
The wracking Cares, the Treacheries, the
Woes, that might have been my Fate!—
Your Pardon Sir, My Disobedience, thus punish'd, Claims it.
How fares my Partner (even in Death)
One Kiss—the last, that I shall ever take—Oh!
[Dies.
Lov.
Stay, my Emilius; I am a Stranger
Here; and have been hardly us'd—No
Friend to Close my Dying Eyes? He's gone!
I follow—Lay me by the Man I have Lov'd;
With whom I wou'd have Liv'd, for whom I Die.
[Dies.
Vice.
Appamia, My Foster Daughter, but
I have done, Heav'ns Mercy overtake thy
Crimes: On Earth thou wilt meet with none.
Alonza, Thee I Substitute in full Authority,
Till farther Orders from the Court of Spain Arrive, and will
My self, for ever from the World retire
Leaving this sad Truth behind: That Parents
Shou'd not, beyond the hopes of Heaven
Their Children Prize.
Nor Indulg'd Children dare to Disobey,
Lest they are punish't such a dismal way.
FINIS.
| The False Friend, Or, the Fate of Disobedience | |