University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

Enter Beaufort, and Selinda.
Sel.
You must not go, and leave us thus confus'd:

Beau.
After such Insults, can I stay with Honour?
O! No; I'll fly th'Inhospitable Place;
For should I stay, spight of the sacred Oath,
Which None, but Thou, could ever have wrung from me,
I should be perjur'd to revenge my Wrongs.

Sel.
Remember he's your Friend:—

Beau.
Too well I do:
Would to the Heav'ns I could forget he was so:
For from a Friend such Treatment doubly wounds me.
Press me not, lovely Maid, to linger here,
Stung with Reflection, manacled with Oaths,
My swelling Soul curb'd, and restrain'd from Vengeance,
Least Rage should conquer weak Resolves; for, Oh!
I know the Frailty of my Nature such,
That should I meet him, and again be brav'd,
I should give way to wild and fierce Resentment,
Break thro' the solemn Tye, and rush upon him.

Sel.
I dare not now sollicit you to stay;
My Apprehensions bid me drive you out,
And lead you from that Path of bloody Danger.
But think, O think, how wretched shall I be,
When left defenceless to a Father's Pow'r;
Whose stern Command, and arbitrary Will
I dare not disobey: When they shall drag Me
Like a vile Slave to Rod'rick's hated Bed;
Rending the Skies with piteous Exclamations,
And none that hear my Cries will dare to help Me.

Beau.
O wherefore do you stab me with these Horrors?
The dreadful Image shocks my trembling Frame,
And roots me up with strong convulsive Tortures:
Fly, fly, my Fair One, from these pressing Ills;
Let me convey you hence to some Retreat,
Where Peace and downy Comfort still shall wait you.

Sel.
O Beaufort, urge me not; It cannot be;
Honour, and Tyrant Custom both forbid it:
And tho' thou stand'st so fair in my Opinion,
I could not entertain a Fear of Wrong;
Yet, thus to steal away in private with Thee,
Bears such a Semblance of dishonest Meaning,
As would for ever blast a Virgin's Honour.

Beau.
And wilt thou then consent to be a Victim,
Give up thy self to Woe, rather than hazard
The idle Censure of a captious World?
How will it hurt us?—Where the Heart is sound,
The honest Face needs not to change its Colour.
Think too, how short an Interval is left
To make me happy, or accurst for ever.
Let that plead for Me: Think upon to Morrow!
The destin'd Morn must make Thee Rod'rick's Bride!
Then I shall loose Thee:—O forbid it, Heav'n!
It is a Curse will weigh Me down in Ruin.

Sel.
Alas! I dread to stay, yet dare not go.

Beau.
O could'st Thou but conceive, how dear thou'rt to Me,
In gentle Pity of the Pains I feel,
Thou would'st forbear to wound me with such Sounds.
As tender Flow'rs that live but in the Sun,
Should'st thou withdraw thy Light, Beaufort must droop,
And wither in the Shade of killing Absence.

Sel.
O do not force me to confess a Weakness;
Indeed my grateful Heart o'erflows with Pity.

Beau.
Deal not your Blessings with a Niggard Hand;
But add Love too, and make me blest for ever.

Sel.
I give You all that Virtue will allow:

Beau.
When I ask more, Heav'n show'r its Curses on me:

Sel.
What shall I do? Instruct me, some kind Pow'r;
And lay not Disobedience to my Charge;
Let not a Father's wrathful Pray'rs o'ertake me,
Tho' Fear prevails, and urges my Departure:
O Beaufort, do not thou accuse my Rashness,
That here I throw my self on thy Protection
To shield me from Distress.

Beau.
O happy Sound!
Sure were my parting Soul upon the Wing,
That Voice of dear Consent had call'd it back:
Distrust not I can e'er forget this Goodness:
I will not wish to live, but thus to clasp Thee;
And feed Desire with gazing on thy Beauties.
But say, my Love, when Counsel-keeping Night
Has rear'd her silent Head upon the World,
Where shall I wait to bear Thee hence to Safety.

Sel.
When the Night-Bell has mark'd the Hour of Twelve,
At the Park Gate I'll meet you with one Servant;
'Till then, Farewel; least Observation trace us.

Beau.
O must I leave Thee? Let the posting Hours
Run o'er their lazy Course with treble Swiftness;
Th'Impatience of my Love will lengthen Time,
And make each Moment seem a painful Age.
Farewel; and watchful Angels hover round Thee.

[Exeunt severally.
SCENE changes to an Inward Apartment.
Discovers Luciana lying on a Couch.
Luc.
It wo'not be; Despair has banish'd Sleep;
In vain I shut my Eyes, and court Repose;
A Thousand ghastly Forms swim round my Head,
And start me with a Thousand diff'rent Terrors.
Then Madness must succeed; why, let it come;
So, I no more shall feel this smarting Anguish:
No more be tortur'd with suspected Love;
Nor weep to think Sebastian has been Cruel:
O! For a Cure t'expel the dire Remembrance;
Which Death, or Madness can alone extinguish.

Enter Gonsalvo and Rod'rick.
Rod.
See, where the lovely, beauteous Mourner lies;
Prevailing Influence sit upon your Tongue,
And melt her to Desire, and yielding Softness.
Perhaps, a little Force may be requir'd;
To give some Countenance to struggling Virtue:
I'll guard the Entrance from the rude Approach
Of any prying Fools, who might disturb you.
[Exit Rod'rick.

Gons.
Blessings on my fair Niece: What, drown'd in Sorrow?
Dry up those pearly Tears; Grief should not trespass
Upon such Beauty: Circling Joys should wait you,
And Peace for ever crown your happy Days.

Luc.
You wish me Peace, my Lord, yet take the Way,
The surest Way, to rob me of my Quiet.
Why do you thus pursue me with Desire,
Lawless Desire, and urge my certain Ruin?
Remember, who I am; Sebastian's Wife;
Your Nephew's Wife; and would you stain his Bed?
Break in upon our chast Connubial Love,
With foul Invasion, and most horrid Incest?—
Think, what rich Blood flows in your Veins, my Lord;
Think too, from what a gen'rous Race you spring;
How such an Act would sully o'er their Glory;
Write Infamy upon their rev'rend Tombs,
And make the conscious Marble sweat with Horror.
Then, are you not the Eldest of your House;
Born to protect from Wrongs, and not commit them?

Gons.
Say rather, I am born to be your Slave;
And doom'd by Fate eternally to love you.
So strongly ha'st thou bound me in thy Chains,
No Struggling e'er can loose me; such the Wound
Those piercing Eyes have giv'n, as nought can cure
But full Possession of that lovely Person.

Luc.
Ha! Must I bear this Treatment, and be tame?
Rage and Despight possess my swelling Bosom:
Hear Me, degen'rate Lord; can'st thou presume,
That were I what thy guilty Wish would make Me;
Were I abandon'd o'er to gen'ral Vice,
A Common Prostitute to loose Desires,
I would exchange Sebastian's blooming Years
For wither'd Age, and such a Thing as thou art?

Gons.
Tho' Fifty Years have grizzled o'er my Head,
No Palsies shake these Nerves, no fierce Distempers
Invade, or press me down to feeble Dotage;
But if my upbraided Years must still be number'd,
Count too my Wealth against his meaner Fortunes.
Do but consent to love, and thou shalt shine
Glorious and dazling, as an Eastern Queen;
But if thou still continu'st Cruel to me,
I'll turn thee out to share his humble Fate:
Then thou'lt repent, and curse thy peevish Coyness.

Luc.
I'd feed on Roots, eat the rank Mountain-Weed,
Drink the cold Water from the running Flood,
Lie on the Ground, and make a Rock my Pillow,
E'er I would wrong my lov'd Sebastian's Bed,
Or part with Honour at the price of Empires.

Gons.
Well, thou shalt go; but first I'll pay my self
For all the Pains and Tortures thou ha'st giv'n me:
Come, yield; for struggling shall not save thee from me:
I will no longer languish with Desire,
But seize my Bliss, and force Thee to be kind.

Luc.
Help! help!—Oh help! Is no One near to save Me?

Beau.
[within]
What Deed of Darkness art thou doing there?

Rod.
[within]
What is't to Thee?

Beau.
Give way, or thus I'll force Thee.

[Here Beaufort drives in Roderick.
Luc.
O save Me, save Me from this horrid Wretch.

Beau.
Fear nothing, Madam, I protect you now.

Gons.
Rude, and unmanner'd Stranger, whence this Outrage,
This insolent Intrusion? Ruffian-like,
How dare you press on my Retirement thus?

Beau.
How dare you give me Cause? The Lady's Shrieks,
And thy Confusion speak thy hellish Purpose.

Rod.
Sir, you shall answer this:

Beau.
I scorn thy Threats.

Gons.
Away, thou Brawler, or I'll so chastise Thee,
Thou shalt repent t'have stir'd an Old Man's Fury.

Beau.
This Sword will do me Right, 'twill guard Me well
Against a Villain's Violence:—

Gons.
A Villain's!
Rod'rick, assist to scourge this sawcy Swordsman.

Beau.
What, both! But I'm prepar'd:—

[They both attack Beaufort.]
Luc.
Help! Murther! help!
Inhumane Monsters, will you kill him then?

Enter Sebastian, who interposes, with Selinda.
Seb.
Beaufort attack'd! By odds he must not fall:
Hold, or I turn my Sword against your Breasts.

Gons.
Confusion! we're discover'd:—

Rod.
Fear it not.

Seb.
Tell me what Cause has bred this raging Uproar?
Say, some of You, who have your Speeches free;
What, are all Mute? Rod'rick, I charge you, speak.

Rod.
Fain would I hold my Tongue to hide thy Shame.

Beau.
What means the Traytor?

Seb.
Speak, and do not rack Me.
Speak, instantly.—

Rod.
My Uncle and my self
Ent'ring th'Apartment, thinking you were here,—
My Heart's so full that I can say no more:

Seb.
Go on.—

Rod.
Surpriz'd thy Wife and him together
In shameful Privacy.—Now guess the rest.

Beau.
The monstrous Villain!—take thy Recompence:

[Offers to stab Roderick.
Seb.
Hold! or thou dy'st:

Luc.
Confusion! Death, and Horror!

Beau.
Take heed, Sebastian, of too rash Suspicions,
How thou believ'st thy Friend, or Wife, disloyal;
Because a Villain dares traduce their Virtue.

Rod.
They did agree together, when surpriz'd,
To turn the Guilt on us: But 'tis too plain;
You've seen too much to trust that Trick of Falshood.

Seb.
I've seen too much, indeed, and am too slow
In my Revenge; but I begin it thus.—

[Offers to stab Luciana.
Beau.
Barbarian, hold thy Hand: Whilst I have Life,
I will protect her from thy Savage Fury.

Seb.
Dye first then, Traytor:—

Beau.
Come, come all against Me:
Arm'd as I am in Innocence, and Truth,
I dare maintain my Cause against you all.

Sel.
What will the Pow'rs do with us!

Seb.
to Beauf.)
Sir, a Word;
Tho' that your Baseness merits not this Favour,
I scorn to take th'Advantage Odds might give Me.
At the Park Gate, in half an Hour, I'll meet You:
There, undisturb'd, we may decide this Quarrel.

Beau.
You shall be met, Sir; doubt not: But, d'ye hear,
Sebastian, I must urge one Promise from You,
E'er I depart, that 'till we meet again
You use no Violence to your Wife:

Seb.
Damnation!
The Traytor would capitulate for Whoredom:
But 'tis no matter: Vengeance will be speedy.
By all the Honour of my Sword, I will not:—

Beau.
Enough: I'm satisfy'd: Come hither, Rod'rick;
Follow me instantly, and do Me Justice,
Or by the Wrongs thy Treachery has done Me,
I'll use Thee as thy Cowardice deserves.
[Exit Beaufort.

Seb.
No Struggling, enter:—

Luc.
Hear me but a Word,
For now you stand upon the Brink of Ruin:
Ready to plunge into a deep Abyss
Of Woes unsearchable.—

Seb.
Presume not, Wretch,
To think these Arts shall screen Thee from my Wrath:

Luc.
I do not wish to live:—

Seb.
Nor shalt thou, Traytress.

Luc.
But would—

Seb.
I'll hear no more: In, Strumpet, in.

[Locks her into the Chamber.
Sel.
O stay, Sebastian, hear Me e're Thou go'st
To act thy cruel Purpose; for too well
I see thy Rage is bent on bloody Deeds:—

Seb.
My Lord, as you expect that I should right
The Honour of our House, take hence your Daughter:
And shield me from her Female Exhortations.

Gons.
Away, Selinda.

[Exeunt Gonsalvo and Selinda.
Sel.
Cruel, barb'rous Men.

Seb.
Come to my Arms, thou gen'rous, worthy Brother;
O Rod'rick, I have now no Friend but Thee:
Unless I pour my Sorrows on thy Breast,
And tell Thee all the Anguish of my Soul,
My Heart will break; and fain I would survive
To have a full Revenge on all their Falshood.

Rod.
It grieves me much to see you thus abus'd:
Would you had never known Her:—

Seb.
Would I had not!
Thou canst not guess what racking Pains I suffer:
Lovers alone can guess at Lovers Sorrows.
Why was I born, ye rigid Pow'rs, or why
Preserv'd from Death, when Thousands fell around me,
To see this Day? To see the only Treasure,
In which my fond, o'erweaning Heart delighted,
Torn from me by the Hands of impious Ruffians?
Rod'rick, adieu; There's nothing now on Earth
Remains to ease my Griefs, but ample Vengeance.
Exit Sebastian.

Roderick
Solus.
Go on, and work my Fortune and thy Ruin;
It was a Glorious Thought!—Victorious Boldness
Sav'd us, when tott'ring on the Brink of Fate:
The Time's almost expir'd, and now he's going
To meet with Beaufort: I o'er-heard th'Appointment.
Should they, perchance, confer before they fight,
They may be reconcil'd, and then I'm ruin'd:—
Or if that Beaufort scape Sebastian's Sword,
No doubt but he'll revenge the Wrongs I've done him.
If Either do survive, I am not safe:
Something with speed must be determin'd:—Ha!
Why does my Nature startle at that Thought?
A Brother's Murther!—Safety drives me on it.—
I'll stab him as he passes to the Field;
The Darkness will protect me from Discov'ry:
The Guilt will fall on Beaufort, not on Me;
And I'll take care to seize him for the Murther.
Shine now, my Native Stars, with watchful Care,
And all your future Influence I'll spare:
Let but Success this one Atchievement crown,
And then 'twill be too late for Fate to frown.
Exit Roderick.

SCENE changes.
Enter Sebastian.
Seb.
Th'appointed Time is come; Beaufort will wait,
And think I loiter in this Work of Vengeance:
There is a strange Reluctance in my Soul;
But he is false, and is not worth my Thought.

[Exit.
Enter Roderick.
Rod.
That Door, I know, is barr'd; he cannot pass,
But must return this way: I'll wait him here.

Enter Gonsalvo.
Gons.
O Guilt, with what a Weight do'st thou oppress Us!
The Issue of this Fray, this Scene of Blood,
Hangs heavy on my Soul. I stand confus'd,
Uncertain what to dread, or what to wish for.

Rod.
It is Sebastian's Voice: Now Fate befriend Me.

[Stabs Gonsalvo.
Gons.
Ha! Villain! Murther! Oh the fatal Weapon!—

Rod.
Death! 'tis my Uncle:

Gons.
Traytor, I will hold Thee:
Murther!—

Rod.
Confusion! I am now betray'd:

Enter Sebastian, Selinda, and Servants with Lights.
Seb.
What Cry of Murther's this?

Gons.
Oh! I am slain.

Sel.
Alas! my Father:—

Seb.
Who has done this Deed?

Gons.
This Villain here, this most abandon'd Slave,
Rod'rick, the Cause of all your Tortures. Seize him:

Seb.
Rod'rick! Amazement! But Fate opens here;
And all my Doubts at once in this are answer'd:

Gons.
O! I have wrong'd thy Friend, and Wife, Sebastian;
They both are true, and only we to blame:

Seb.
O Heav'ns!

Enter Beaufort with his Sword drawn.
Beau.
Where is this base, this coward Rod'rick?
That I may rip his Trayt'rous Bosom up.

Seb.
I dare not look upon my Injur'd Friend.

Sel.
See, Beaufort, see! What cruel Fate has done:

Beau.
What cursed Hand has done this Murther?

Sel.
Rod'rick's.

Gons.
My Blood flows quick, and Life begins to fail:
Forgive me, O Sebastian, noble Youth,
For I have sought to wrong thy Marriage Bed:
And had accomplish'd my now hated Purpose,
Had not thy Friend, thy gen'rous Friend prevented.
I've long, in vain, try'd to corrupt her Virtue;
And now am justly Punish'd for my Crime.
But what could urge that most ungrateful Wretch
To do this bloody Deed, 'tis he must answer.

Seb.
Say, Monster, what could urge thee to do this?

Rod.
The Blow was meant to thee, rash cred'lous Fool;
Curse on this Hand that so mistook its Aim.

Seb.
Immortal Pow'rs, how just are all your Doings!
Beaufort, I've wrong'd thee past the Hopes of Pardon.

Gons.
Draw near me Both;
That I may join the Bands of broken Friendship.
O Beaufort, if a dying Man can move you,
I do conjure you take him to your Breast.
For greatly was his noble Anger mov'd,
And Nature poison'd by that Serpent's working:

Seb.
Never may like Division grow between us!
O Beaufort, plead to poor Luciana for me:
Inform her of what's past, and bring her to me:
This Key admits you to the mourning Fair One.

[Exit Beaufort.
Gons.
Draw near my Child; forgive thy rigid Father:
'Twas caus'd by my resistless Love: To thee,
And to Sebastian, I bequeath my Fortunes:
Let not the large Possessions of our House
Be swallow'd by the greedy, gaping Law;
But share them with a friendly Hand betwixt you.
I feel a Chillness coursing through my Veins:
My Soul is now, just now, upon the Wing,
And I have only Time to wish for Mercy.

Sel.
Alas! he faints.

[Dies.
Enter Beaufort with Luciana.
Seb.
He's Dead:—O my Luciana,
How shall I meet thy injur'd Excellence?
I hang my Head with Shame, and dare not view Thee,
Least just Resentment flashing from thy Eyes
Should strike me to the Earth:

Luc.
When e'er Sebastian
Owns he has err'd, Luciana can forgive:
Fate has been busie; but the gracious Pow'rs
Controul'd the Rage of fierce Destructive Malice.

Seb.
There stands the cursed Source of all our Sorrows;
That Wretch, whom I must blush to think my Brother:
Go, bear him where he may receive the Doom
Due to his black, abhorr'd, and bloody Deeds.

Rod.
Think you, that when I can foresee my Doom,
I'll poorly live to glut your Pride or Vengeance,
By tamely suff'ring Publick Execution;
No, this Mistaken Arm shall yet redeem Me.
Thus I revenge my self upon my self;
[Stabs himself.
And now, Perdition seize you all together!

[Dyes.
Beau.
Desp'rate and bloody!

Seb.
'Tis a Night of Horror:
Let these Examples warn the guilty World,
What Curses wait to punish lawless Passion:
No Views of sordid Gain, or base Compliance,
Should draw Us from the Paths of strictest Virtues:
Judgments unseen on wilful Crimes attend,
'Till Heav'n thinks fit th'allotted Doom to send.

The Curtain falls.