University of Virginia Library

ACT the First.

Scene a Garden.
Enter Antonio, Berinthia, Julia, at a distance.
Anto.
Come to my Arms, my Love!
In this dear Circle, all that's charming dwells.
Ev'n this stol'n hour of Love I prize as much
As dying Saints the Heav'n they have in store;
I've all I wish, and they can have no more.

Berin:
Much more, the sure continuance of their Joys:
Our Bliss below each giddy chance destroys,
As we too soon may find—
For O!—

Anto.
For what? by Heav'n that Sigh unmans me!

Berin.
If after all our mutual Vows of Love,
Some fatal Hand shou'd tear me from your Arms,
And set whole Worlds between us;
If such a cross shou'd come (as O! I fear
I have already too much cause to doubt it)
Wou'd you not think Fortune had done her worst?
Or Heav'n it self were angry?

Anto.
Think, Berinthia? I shou'd be all thought,
Lost in the Whirl-pool of Imagination!
But where's the Wretch so indiscreet or rash,
That dares but mutter to himself, he'll part us?

Berin.
Forbear, my Lord;—you know I have a Father.

Anto.
Thou hast, indeed, the best that bears the Name,
My Friend, and which is more, a Friend to Justice.
But that makes for us still.

Berin.
He oft has said,
That he wou'd marry Catalina first:
And I much fear—

Anto.
Alas! thy Fears are vain,
He may do that, and we, too, may be happy.

Berin.
But here, my Lord, here comes the Dart will wound you,
The Shaft that thro' your Ear will reach your Soul,
Unless you call your Reason to your aid
To blunt the pointed Ruine—It is you
To whom he has design'd her,
For without you she is no more her self.
Prepost'rous Chance! O Heav'n, you shou'd have quench'd
Her growing Flame, or not have kindl'd mine!
In short, my Lord, she loves you, and last Night
(So much her Tears and her Intreaties mov'd him)
My Father made a Vow she shou'd be yours,
If half his Wealth—

Anto.
Not half the World shall win me.

Berin.
That I believe,
Or else you had not heard this Secret from me.
But O! so constant is my Father's Temper,
What he resolves is Fate.

Julia coming forwards.
Julia.
Madam, your Father's in the Orange Walk,
And seems to make this way.

Berin.
I must avoid him.

[Exeunt Berin. Julia.
Anto.
So will not I, for he's the Oracle
Where I this moment must enquire my Doom.

Enter Vilarezo, Attendants.
Vilar.
Alone? 'tis to my wish.
[aside.
My Lord, good morrow.
[Embraces him.
Thy Father was my Friend, my better half,
Yet, while I clasp thee thus,
Methinks I have not lost him; his great worth
Is all reviv'd in thee: but were he living,
Thou wert not dearer to his Arms than mine.

Anto.
I see which way he drives, and must prevent him.

[aside.
Vilar.
While you are here, then think your self at home,
For by my Life I love thee as a Child.

Anto.
Heav'n grant your Mind may always be the same.

Vilar.
It shall—but why that wish?—thou droop'st, Antonio.

Anto.
A melancholly Fume! but 'twill be gone;
Life's short, and nothing can torment as long.

Vilar.
Mysterious still—but prithee be more plain.
Your Words betray the trouble of your Heart,
Your Eyes don't sparkle with their usual Lustre,
I thought you had been proof against the Charms
Of the Fair Sex—yet why shou'd you complain?
For whom can brave Antonio love in vain?

Anto.
Since you, my Lord, so readily have guess'd
My cause of Grief, I will confess my frailty:
'Tis true, I love; and, if I'm not deceiv'd,
My Passion is return'd with equal ardor:
There only wants her Father's kind consent
To make me fully happy.

Vilar.
Who e'er he is,
I'll warrant for him, he denies thee nothing
That he can give, or thou canst ask with Honour:
Then boldly on, I'll second thy Petition.

Anto.
I take you at your Word, and on my Knees—

[Kneels.
Vilar.
Nay rise, Antonio, why to me this distance?
O rise! this posture—

Anto.
Best becomes my Duty,
A posture fit for what I sue: which is,
Your Bounty in Berinthia to impart,
And give her Hand where she bestows her Heart.

Vilar.
Curst chance! O giddy turn! how Fate does sport
With human Expectation!—rise Antonio.

Anto.
Forgive me if this once I disobey you:
I must not rise till my request is granted.

Vilar.
Then you must kneel for ever.

Anto.
Call back! call back that Sentence e're it play
[rises.
The Tyrant in my Heart, and yield me up
To Madness or Despair?
Can you forget so soon your noble Promise?
That you'd deny me nothing you cou'd give,
Or I cou'd ask with Honour.

Vilar.
Nor do I now, and be your self the Judge—
I thought you had not been to learn the Custom
Of your own Native Country, which enjoyns
The Eldest Sister first shou'd taste the Joys,
That wait the Nuptial Bed: yet were it not
The Custom, 'tis but Justice.

Anto.
Then be it so, my Lord; I'll wait with patience
Till Catalina's Nuptials are perform'd:
Nor doubt I but Berinthia will approve
An Action that so well declares my Love.

Vilar.
Still you are wide, Antonio,
And will not see where I direct my aim.
O think not of Berinthia, from thy Breast
Expel her, fix not on that hope thy rest,
For I shall never grant thee that request.

Anto.
Confusion! Pain and Torture!—O my Lord!
Your said but now you lov'd me as a Child.

Vilar.
I did indeed, and I will prove a Father,—
Witness the Pow'rs that know our secret Thoughts,
That my denial springs not from dislike,
But from the force of Friendship and of Love.
Of all the Blessings which Indulgent Heav'n
Has with a bounteous hand showr'd down upon me,
There is but one I prize above the rest,
And that I give to thee.—Yes, my Antonio,
My Elder hope I'll to thy Arms assure;
But think, ah! think not of Berinthia more.

Anto.
Down swelling Heart and keep the Balance ev'n.

[aside.
Vilar.
Her Mind is virtuous, and her Form is lovely:
And for her Dowry, it shall be enough
To satisfie Ambition.

Anto.
Now either my denial or compliance
Are dangerous Rocks, and I must steer between.
[aside.
My Lord, this Favour does require an Answer
That may preserve our Friendship still entire:
Therefore I'll beg your leave
A little to consult my Inclination.
But must, withal, intreat you to consider,
That where so firm a Knot of Love is ty'd,
'Tis Heav'n that joyns, and Man shou'd not divide.

Vilar.
I will consider, but it shall be how
To tear Berinthia's Image from thy Heart.
That Knot of Love no matter who did joyn,
If I can make her elder Sister thine.

[aside going off.
[Exeunt Vilar. Atten.
Enter on the other side Berinthia, Julia.
Anto.
Berinthia—Oh!—

Berin.
That Sigh confirms our Ruine.
I knew his temper was not to be mov'd.
There's no way left but to despair and dye.

Anto.
No, since wave gone so far we'll stop not here:
All ways we'll try to make him less severe,
And if all fail we can but then despair.

Enter Diego.
Diego.
My Lord, our Sister's just arriv'd from Sevil,
And does enquire for you.

Anto.
Conduct her hither.
'Tis ev'n beyond my wish! I have not seen her
Since she was Ten Years old, and yet ev'n then
Sh'ad something in her that was soft and charming;
Your Brother found th'effect; at whose request
I sent her word to meet me at Averos.
You know the rest, she's here.

Enter Alphanta, Clara, Diego.
Berin.
And is indeed a Wonder!

Alphan.
With such an eager Joy as Parents fly,
T'embrace the Heir that has been absent long,
And had for Years despair'd of his Return,
I meet my Noble Brother!

Anto.
With such a Joy I take thee in my Arms!
O Sister! thou art come as sent from Heav'n!

Alphan.
Then blessed be the Pow'rs that brought me hither.

Berin.
And for your good we hope as well as ours.
You will not only meet your Brother here,
But find a Lover too.

Alphan.
A Lover!

Anto.
Yes:
She tells you true, you here will find a Lover,
In whose Composure there is nothing wanting
That goes to make a Man up truly Noble.
From rising Morn till Noon, from Noon to Night,
Till time it self were past, I cou'd talk on
And praise him still—
But what I've said will prove
That he is worthy of Alphanta's Love.

Alphan.
Worthy d'ye say? alas! he is too worthy:
But were he yet more worthy than he is,
I ne'er can love him.

Anto.
Not love him! were you Queen of the whole World,
And were your Charms as boundless as your Pow'r,
Nay, cou'd your Voice call Angels from their Orbs
To doat upon the Musick of your Tongue,
When I shall tell thee 'tis this Ladies Brother,
My Gallant Friend Sebastian, you wou'd blush,
And be the first that gave thy self the Lye—
There needs no pause; he's Young, an Heir, and Noble.

Alphan.
Wou'd he had never seen me.

Anto.
Ha! why that wish? or does my Heart misgive me?
Hear me, Alphanta, by the Pow'rs above
If thou hast dar'd, unknown to me to marry,
Y'ad better have taken cold Aspicks to thy Bed,
That kill ev'n with their Kisses.

Berin.
Where will this end?

Anto.
Thou art not marry'd?

Alphan.
No, indeed I am not.

Anto.
Nor plighted Faith to any?

Alphan.
No by Heav'n.

Anto.
Why dost thou hold me then in this suspence?
And when descending Happiness does smile,
And Fortune seem to court her to your Arms,
Spurn 'em so rashly from you?

Alphan.
[Smiling]
Pardon me, Brother, if to try your Temper,
I feign'd my self concern'd:
I thro' your Care of me perceive your Love,
And had no other aim,
Assur'd of that, what e'er Commands you lay,
You'll find that I shall readily obey.

Berin.
This is a turn above my Expectation!

Anto.
And thou canst love my Friend!

Alphan.
Yes, any thing,
I'm to be molded to what Shape you please.

Anto.
Then Blessings on thy Heart for easing mine:
Berinthia too shall thank thee.—O Alphanta!
Just now you brought me to a Precipice,
Where sure Destruction waited for our fall,
And storms of Indignation hover'd o'er us;
But now 'tis all serene, below, above,
And the whole Prospect is made up of Love.

[Exeunt Anto. Berin Diego.
Manent Alphanta, Clara.
Clara.
O Madam! What d'ye mean? Have you forgot
The Vows you made so lately?

Alphan.
Not yet I have not, but I must forget 'em;
Love must make way for Interest—don't repine,
For my advance is yours.

Clara.
Let me be Wretched, so you be not Criminal.

Alphan.
I grieve for that as much as you—but see,
My Brother turns,—and I must tell thee, Clara,
What e'er my Promises have been, Alonzo
Must ne'er be thought on more.

[Exit Alphan.
Clara.
I've done—but may Heav'n never think of me,
If I not let him know your Perjur'd Thoughts
E're yet an hour be past: He's nearer t'ye
Than y'imagine.

[Exit.
Enter Catalina, Ansilva.
Cata.
This day will make me blest or wretched ever.
E're this my Father has propos'd the Match,
And I am on the Rack to know my Fate.
Ha! who are those?

Ansil.
Antonio and his Sister.

Cata.
His Sister! are you sure that 'tis, his Sister?

Ansil.
I am, Madam.

Cata.
I was afraid too soon:
I shou'd be loth to have so fair a Rival.
This way and we shall meet 'em.

[Exeunt Cata. Ansil.
Enter Antonio, Alphanta.
Anto.
Now you know all: and you may see I place
In thee and in Sebastian all my Hope,
Who went this morning early to the Field
To chase the swift-pac'd Deer: and 'tis his use,
When the Sun's scorching Beams inflame the Air,
To come back to a cool and shady Grove,
Hard by adjoyning, there to recreate
Himself with rural Sports.—Thither we'll go.
Ha! Catalina here!—malicious Fortune!—
But we must avoid her.

[Exeunt hastily another way.
Enter Catalina, Ansilva.
Cata.
My Lord!—my Lord Antonio!—ha! Alsilva,
Did you observe the strangeness of his Courage?
With how much hast he shun'd me? nay, he look'd
As if he had disdain'd to answer me.
Curst be the fatal hour I saw him first:
O Fool, Fool that I am to throw away
My Youth and Love on one that does despise 'em.

Ansil.
'Tis your Impatience that creates your Trouble.
How can you think he scorns you, when, perhaps,
He knows not that you love him?

Cata.
O too well!
My Eyes have told him so, my treach'rous Eyes,
That let him in to triumph o'er my Heart,
And play the Tyrant: He in them might read
All the whole Story of a faithful Passion,
How first it was begot with gazing on him;
And listning to his dear harmonious Voice,
For who can hear him talk and not be taken?
Ingrateful man! and am I thus requited?
O that I cou'd but hate him!—say, Ansilva,
Have I ought in me that's deform'd and loathsome?
Am I not Young? Is not in? Extraction Noble?
My Fortune too the fairest in the Nation?
And yet no more regarded!

Ansil.
For Heav'ns sake, Madam—

Cata.
Nay, talk not of Heav'n,
I am all Hell within, hot burning Love:
Tho' I am running on to sure Destruction
I have no Pow'r to turn. For not long since,
(But 'twas before I'd ever seen Antonio)
Walking abroad alone to take the Air,
I met an ancient Man, who having with
A melancholy look survey'd me round,
Broke into such Prophetick words as these.
Lady, avoid that smiling mischief Love,
That Serpent in the Figure of a Dove:
If e'er y'are past your one and twentieth Year,
You fall into that vain bewitching Snare,
Y'are ruin'd—I have warn'd you, and beware.
In vain, alas' I had the Friendly Caution,
I disobey'd and the Reward o'ertakes me.
Prithee let Melvia sing that Song I gave thee,
For 'tis a Glass where I may see my Folly.

[Melvia.]
SONG.

Cata.
In life what is there that deserves our Care?
What Blessings can we hope that soil will bear
When Love, which shou'd our greatest Pleasure be,
So often causes all our Misery?

Ansil.
When many different Paths to Pleasure lead,
And we perversely but in one will tread,
And that the very One we are forbid,
We swim against the stream of Reason's laws,
And if w'are wretched are our selves the cause:
Then cease to Love and you may soon rejoyce,
Or, if you must Love! make another Choice.

Cata.
Hold! on that hateful subject speak no more:
Inconstancy I from my Soul abhor:
Nor Fate, nor force, nor Chance shall change my mind,
I'll love him were I sure he'd be unkind:
But O! how shou'd I that unkindness bear,
When but to think on't drives me to Despair?

[Weeps.
Enter Vilarezo.
Vilar.
What? Melancholy? still in Tears? for shame
Give o'er this heedless Grief,
And trust thy self to my Paternal care:
For if that hope deceive me not, which but
Just now Antonio gave me,
Thou art as happy as thy wish can make thee!
Happy as then e're thy unwary Eyes
Gaz'd thy fond Heart away.

Cata.
That Day I'd see,
If there's a Day of Happiness for me.

Vilar.
Thou hast had many, and may yet have more:
But why that thought?

Cata.
O! if with such indifference he cou'd hear
What you propos'd, as but to give you hope,
I know my doom!—if he at all had lov'd,
He wou'd have listning stood as Heav'n had spoke,
And with a greedy Ear devour'd your words.
He is not to be mov'd, and I am lost!

Vilar.
Forbear this Passion, rash unthinking Girl.
I tell thee I have us'd my utmost care
That with an equal Flame he cherish thine:
Nor do I doubt, but in a little space
He will pay all his future Homage here.

Cata.
O Death to all my Hopes! then he's in Love!

Vilar.
I've taken Order to prevent its progress.
Droop not, my Child, I'll mould him to thy wishes.
In the mean time I'd have you entertain
No anxious thoughts, but leave th'affair to me;
And you shall find, e're a day elder grown,
I'll compass thy Repose, or lose my own.
[Exit. Vilar.

Cata.
Ha! taken Order to prevent it's progress—
By Heav'n! if what I still have fear'd is true,
Berinthia is my Rival!
True did I say? Fool that I was to doubt it:
'Tis all too true for my eternal quiet!—
Yet I'll not tamely lose him—Christian Practice
Shews me the way—What has not angry zeal
Made those that differ from her Interest Feel?
Does it regard Alliance, does it spare
Women with Child, or kneeling Saints at Prayer?
Me a much stronger cause does forward move,
No Zeal can be so warm as injur'd Love.
[Exit Cata.

As Ansilva is going off, Enter Gerardo and pulls her back by the Sleeve.
Ansil.

Well, what now?—if 'tis to discourse over the old story 'tis
but breath thrown away—and you have but little of that to spare—and
not much of any thing else.

Gerar.

How? how?—

Ansil.

A Lover of threescore!—Fy! 'tis as unnatural as the Ass in the
Fable that fawn'd upon his Master, and thought he might take all the little Liberties
of a Lap-Dog.

Gerar.

Or the great ones of a Monkey—To the Ladies, I hope, you'll
grant an Ass is not altogether useless—Better Brutes have e'er now been
forc'd to give place to 'em.

Ansil.

'Tis a great many years ago, however, since you were useful.

Gerar.

Dost thou treat all men with this Indifference?

Ansil.

No; but I wou'd, if they were all as thou art.

Gerar.

Why, what am I?

Ansil.

The shadow of a Lover, nothing else, though you talk so much of
the substance. You may, I grant, please your own Imagination; but that will
scarce reach far enough to satisfy a Mistress—In fine, you can only think
Love, not act it, and so will be Damn'd for the Sin, without enjoying the
Pleasure.

Gerar.

Certainly thou hast held thy Leg over a nettle this Morning—
I defy e'er a young, noisy, fashionable Fool of 'em all to do you better Reason
than my self.—Look here Child—observe this Caper—D'ye see?—meer
strength of back! meer Chine!—I'd undertake, if thou wou'd but love me,
to shake of twenty years with as much ease as a Courtier does his Promise, a
Fanatick his Allegiance, or a Statesman his Religion; and come to thy Arms
all warmth! all Love!—

Ansil.

And all wrapt up in Sear-Cloath like a Mummy—My Imagination
sickens at it—Hear me Gerardo, for now I'm serious—if I thought any Behaviour

of mine encourag'd you to this Impudent Application, I'd turn Nun
to be reveng'd on my self: and there is but the Devil and thee I'd sooner avoid.

Gerar.

Nay, now you'are too severe, and in not seeing my Affection, are
blind to your Interest.—I could every day have presented thee with some
such pieces as these—

[Chinks 'em.
Ansil.
[Aside.]

Ha! the right Colour! and I confess they look prevailingly—
if he part with his money there is hope he may be drawn on a little further.

Gerar.

And have made thee outshine any Lady in Portugal for Bravery, Jewels,
and all that—

Ansil.
[Aside.]

And now I think on't I'll try him; if he will bite at Matrimony;
I don't care if I angle for the Gudgeon.

Gerar.

But time is, time was, and agad time's—

Ansil.

Not past, I hope, Noble Sir.

Gerar.

But take these, however, in Earnest of what I wou'd have done, if
you had us'd me better.

Ansil.

How? use you better than by a feign'd unkindness to be assur'd your
pretences were real? as now, to my great Comfort, I am: If you think I had
any other design, here, I'll refund.—I scorn to be oblig'd to one that doubts me.

Gerar.

Doubt thee? no, no—A Man need not doubt the Corrupting a
Saint when twenty Broad pieces are his Bawd.

[Aside.
Ansil.

Then, upon consideration, I will accept of your love; but it must be
upon Conditions.

Gerar.

Let 'em be what they will I agree to 'em: Tho' you shou'd put me
to the same Drudgery my Lady Amble did her Porter, whom she us'd to call
her Limbeck, fill'd him three times a day with Jelly and Cock-broath, which
she still drew off in Spirits.

Ansil.

Then I enjoin you upon pain of my lasting displeasure to talk, think,
and Dream of no other Female but my self.

Gerar.

Good.—no, hold, hold. How shall I do to bridle carnal Appetite
in sleep?—I'd know that now?

Ansil.

Nay if you don't like my Propositions—

Gerar.

I do, I do: proceed.

Ansil.

Then, lastly, you must not dare to mention that exploded thing
call'd Marriage to me.—Now I shall try him.

[Aside.
Gerar.

Better and better, we were certainly cut out for one another. I
never design'd it, Child, I never design'd it; that was premis'd when I gave
thee my Money, with a Wife I wou'd have had some: and that may serve to
shew how much I respect thee above one.

Ansil.
O, goes it so?—then I know how to use you.

[Aside.
Gerar.
And upon the Performance of all this I shall embrace—

Ansil.
Your own Desires—but nothing else by Heav'n, for me.
[Aside.
But hark, my, Lord Sebastian's
[Horns, as at the Death of a Stag.
Return'd from Hunting. I must be gone.

Gerar.
A Kiss at parting.

Ansil.
Nay, then don't force it.

Gerar.
Gad but I must, 'tis not to be had else I find.

Ansil.
[Aside.]
O Garlick, Goats and Monkeys.

[Exit Spitting.
Gerar.

some marry'd Man, perhaps, may think me a Coxcomb for parting
with my Money so easily: but if his Wive's separate Coach, Gaming, Servants,
Nurses and Pin-Money were seriously consider'd at the Years end;

He'd find himself much farther gone in Folly,
And own a Husband is the greatest Cully.

[Exit.