University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE A Chamber of State.
Enter Ansilva.
Ansil.
Let me think a little—If I succeed in this Business my
Life may answer it; If I miscarry I'm discarded:
Diego, too, makes no advance towards Marriage,
I must set up my rest then in Gerardo,
Tho' but on scurvy terms.
Help me, dissimulation,
To fill this Spunge, with hopes that I'll comply,
And if he Marrys me, I'll squeeze him dry.

Enter Gerardo.
Gerar.

Gad! here she is, and the Devil has got such an ascendant over
me, that I must attempt her again: Lewdness, like an old Beggar, takes
no denial, but gets more by importunity, than Modesty can by merit.—
In contemplation? I'll observe her.

Ansil.
'Tis true he's Old, but of a generous temper:
Did he solicit me the lawful way,
His Suit wou'd soon be granted.

Gerar.
Hum—my Amour goes on very luckily.

Ansil.
I must confess, indeed, th'ill-natur'd World
Heaps strange Invectives on him; says he's one
That will bequeath his Riches to a Whore,
Rather than get a lawful Heir in Wedlock.

Gerar.
So—

Ansil.
But were this so (as I believe it is not)
His lively disposition makes amends.
A Chearful Husband's a continual comfort:
He has a thousand ways to please a Wife,
Beside that one destroy'd in the enjoyment;
That fulsom bliss that makes the vulgar joyn,
Who aim but at the sensual part of pleasure,
When 'tis a mutual temper makes us happy.

Gerar.
Nay then, agad, 'tis all serious, and I'll shew my self.

Ansil.
Ah—

[Seems surpriz'd.
Gerar.
You have confest, my dear, and you shall have an easi Absolution.

Ansil.
Betray'd! undone! I'll blush my self to death!

Gerar.

The Wind's chop'd about of a sudden, and sits fair for a Voyage
to the Island of Love—

But, Child, to be in earnest, you must needs think Diego the more agreeable
Person; were I a Virgin I shou'd let him—

Ansil.

Hang himself.

Gerar.

Ha! ha! ha!
I love thee the better for hating that Prig. To day I took thee in the purging
of thy Gall; now thou art all luscious, and season'd to the Pallat of
an Epicure—There only wants the dishing up, and then—

Ansil.

You'd fall on without saying Grace, I warrant.

Gerar.

Ay, what else? I shou'd be a Madman in such a case, to make
use of a Chaplain:—But, come, now thou'rt in a good humour, I'll
give thee my Favourite Song.

Ansil.
Oh! Oh!—

Gerar.
Ha! what's the matter?

Ansil.
Sick! sick in my Head! my Stomach!
You us'd to have good Cordials in your Closet, Gerardo.

Gerar.

Ah Rogue!—the best Surfeit-Water in the Kingdom: a dram
has brought several to life, I'll assure you—you'll find in a short time
how powerfully 'twill quicken.

Ansil.

Away, I'll follow: 'tis not fit we should be seen together.

Gerar.

Don't go the Gallery way, but come thro' my Chamber.

Ansil.

For what?

Gerar.

For what? O Lord! O Lord! what shou'd we do at my Chamber,
but—come you shall guess what now, you shall guess, Child.

Ansil.

Nay, if I trouble you, I can have some of my Lady.

Gerar.

She's in need enough her self; you see she's running mad for't—
Well, I'll go open the Gallery door, for what? ha! ha!

[Exit Gerar.

Ansil.

I have rais'd his expectation, but on purpose indeed to deceive
it; if I keep him keen, perhaps he may cut thro' his discretion to Marriage.
Heav'n! what Monsters are we forc'd to embrace for convenience?
His Closet's a perfect Apothecary's Shop, furnish'd with all sorts of Drugs,
and his Conduct indeed has made it but necessary—He, perhaps, gives
the Disease to his House-keeper; she stoops as low as to the Horses heels,
and transmits it to the Groom; he conveys it from the Stable to the Landry,
and from thence it goes back with the clean Linnen to their Master.
So that the Pox in his Family, like the blood in his Veins, is in a perpetual
Circulation.

[As she is going off,
Enter Sebastian.
Sebast.
Pray tell Alphanta I am here,
And shou'd esteem her Company a favour.

Ansil.
I will, my Lord.
[Exit Ansil.

Sebast.
She's but a Woman, and she may be false,
We have enow Examples of their frailty—
I am to blame—Vilander—

[Goes to the Door
Enter Alphanta, Clara, and speak Entring.
Clara.
To Night?

Alphan.
At Twelve,
And meets me in the Grove.
Let every thing that I shall want be ready.

[Exit Clara.
Enter Vilander.
Sebas.
But here she is, and all y'ave said is cancell'd:
I cannot see her and believe a Sin,
(So Fair she is without) can Lodge within.

Vilan.
Is't that you call'd me back for?

[Is going.
Sebas.
Stay a little.

Alphan.
What means all this? pray Heav'n I'm not discover'd!

[Aside.
Sebas.
While thus I gaze upon thy Lovely face,
Where Innocence does seem to sit Enthron'd,
With all the lesser Graces waiting on,
Methinks thou shou'dst be Faithful.

Alphan.
Ha! my Lord!
What means th'ambiguous Phrase? I shou'd be Faithful?
What Hell-bred Villain can affirm the contrary?

Vilan.

So—I'm well enough serv'd.—If e're I endeavour again to
keep Fool and Strumpet from Coupling, may I marry a Punk, live a Pimp,
and die of the Pox; a Lineal succession, Madam.

[Aside.
Sebas.
Nay hold, Vilander,
I'le Reason it a little Calmly with you.
Did not her Brother give her to my Arms?
Has she not since in publick own'd her Passion?
Can any one without the loss of Reason
Quit Virtue, Pleasure, Riches, State and Honour
And all to run into a Madman's Arms?

Vilan.
I told you he's some Nobleman disguis'd,
And sensible as I am.

Sebas.
That may be,
And yet his Brain distemper'd—
The Man that truly Loves does never doubt;
'Tis Vulgar to distrust: My Soul acquits her.

Alphan.
My Lord, I now perceive what wrought your Change,
And thank you that your thoughts are like your self,
Noble and Brave in spite of black Aspertion.
I grant indeed, at Claras earnest suit
I went to see this Lunatick he speaks of,
To know of him the Story of his Love,
For that we judg'd had brought him to distraction:
And while he eagerly pursu'd his Tale,
Sometimes to Clara, once or twice to me,
He cry'd thus, thus she Swore, thus she Embrac'd me,
And clasp'd his Arms about us.

Sebas.
D'ye here Vilander?

Vilan.
Yes,
[Thunder and Lightning.
Heav'n hears her too, and redd'ns at the Sound;
But she has got a Secret against blushing.

Alphan.
O frontless Impudence! my Lord, let's leave him;
He is not fit to breath where Lovers are.

Sebas.
Not fit to live that cou'd wrong one so fair.
And but his Blood some shew of ours contains,
It had not now been running in his Veins,

[Exeunt Sebast. Alphan.
Vilan.
Credulous Wretch!—Here comes another too,
Doubly belov'd, yet can't be singly happy.
Enter Antonio, Vilarezo.
O Woman! Woman! Woman! only giv'n
To plague Mankind—Hell in the shape of Heav'n.
[Exit Vilan.

Anto.
'Tis done! 'tis done! the mystick Union's made,
And now the bright Berinthia's all my own!
But why, my Lord, did she so soon take leave?
E're I cou'd turn to kiss her she was gone,
When e'en the Ceremony scarce was done.

Vilar.
'Twas by my Order to prepare for Bed,
For till to morrow I'd not have it known.
This is the door.
[Thunder.
The Storm grows lowder still.
My Lord good Night; I wish you much more bliss
Than can be had in such a Night as this.

[Thunder.
Anto.
Good Night my Lord—and let the Thunder rowl?
The Body Lust may fear, but Love's the Soul:
Lockt fast in lawful Joys, we shall not hear
This Rack of Heav'n and loud Ætherial War:
One broken Murmur, one short Sigh in Love
Will seal our Ears, and drown those Peals of Jove.
[Exit Anto.

Vilar.
He's gone! how far is Innocence from Fear?
And yet methinks, 'tis strange
The Fumes of Wine shou'd dissipate so soon:
He was ev'n deeper fiuster'd than I wish'd,
And scarce cou'd speak, the Matrimonial Words
After the Priest,
Now he's as fresh as if he had just awoke
Love that makes many warmer than their Wine,
Has call'd his Reason back and broke the Charm.
I doubt the Issue, but it must be known.
Were it to do, it never shou'd be done.
[Exit. Vilar.

[Thunder.
Enter Antonio, Catalina in her Night-Gown, following.
Anto.
Fool! wretched Fool! so to mistake the Door!
Perdition, Death and Horror! She's got up
And follows me!

Cata.
My Lord, where are you going!

Anto.
Madam, be not surpriz'd, 'twas a mistake;
The Terrour of the Night misled my steps:
Heav'n knows it was no willful fault—

Cata.
A Fault? where shou'd you be but there?
I hope you did not doubt a kind Reception.

Anto.
Her words make a stagnation in my blood,
And num my Soul with horror! my Knees knock
Against each other, and I know not why!—
[Aside.
Madam, good night; the peace of Saints attend you.

Cata.
O Heav'n and Earth, my Lord, you are not going!

Anto.
Going! why?

Cata.
Will you not come to Bed?

Anto.
To Bed! what can she mean?
Either she's craz'd, or she has dreamt of Love,
And I have took her in the easie moment.
[Aside.
What have you seen in me to make you think
I'd ever come between Incestuous Sheets?

Cata.
Incest, my Lord! you dream.

Anto.
I wish I did.

Cata.
Then Wedlock is a frightful state indeed:
What? Incest with your Wife?

Anto.
My Wife!—tho' in my mind I'd sworn to go,
And not to answer thee one other word,
Tho' ev'n the Tongues of Angels had enjoyn'd me,
That sound has call'd me back!—but speak again
(If 'tis as I suspect, I'm lost for ever!)
[Aside.
Speak! did you say my Wife?

Cata.
I did, my Lord:
I am your loving, true, obedient Wife.
This night the Holy Priest did joyn our hands,
And—

Anto.
Curst us both eternally!

Cata.
My Lord!

Anto.
Call him not holy; Vilain, Atheist, Epicure,
Are terms too full of Sanctity to give him,
For he that joyn'd our hands is damn'd for ever!

Cata.
I'm sorry, then, that I shou'd name him to you.
But you, my Lord, must know—

Anto.
Not I, by Heav'n! 'tis all a dream to me,
Or less, I have no certain Image of it.
My Comfort is, my will was not consenting.

Cata.
If what I tell you's false—

Anto.
Thou art an Angel!
If otherwise, a Fiend that took my hand
To lead me to Damnation!

Cata.
The Heav'nly Powers forbid.

Anto.
No, they Command it:
The just Reward of Violated Faith,
And foul Intemperance. O Beast! O Sot!
Dare we assume the awful Name of Men,
And drench our selves beyond all Moderation?
Never considering, as the Liquor flows
Our Reason ebbs, and we are turn'd to Bruits.

Cata.
Alas! my Lord, what wou'd not you have done
To've made the Woman you ador'd your own?
Blame not a Fault occasion'd by my Love,
Which Fate too, by permitting, seems t'approve.

[Thunder
Anto.
Approve it? Yes, your Eyes and Ears are Witness.
Can you with all this Light not see your Crime?
Nor hear Heav'ns Vengeance bursting o'er our Heads
In these prodigious Peals?
Did my Flesh prompt me to th'unholy Deed,
This Night wou'd lop away all loose Desires,
And make me cold, as if I'd fed on Camphire.
The Ravisher himself wou'd now turn pale,
And rather than attempt to act new Sins,
Fall on his Knees for Mercy for the old.

Cata.
Vex not your self, my Lord, the Sin be mine.
[Thunder.
Why do you tremble? See; it moves not me.
To Bed, to Bed! I'll take thee in my Arms,
Drive thy pale Fears away, and let you see
You but resist your own Felicity.

Anto.
Tho' there is Impudence in every Sin,
Lust is the most audacious of 'em all.
No, wretched Creature, no—how close so e're
Others are brought by Marriage, between us
It puts a distance wider than the Poles.
I'll ne're think on thee but with Detestation,
Ne're speak of thee but as a mortal Foe;
Ne're see thee, but I'll shun thee as the Plague,
Nor know thee as as a Wife.—So help me Heav'n.
And so farewel for ever.

[Is going.
Cata.
Hold! O hold!
[Kneels.
As you'd be thought to be of human Race,
As you'd have her that you adore be happy;
As you wou'd save my Soul from Desperation,
And at your latest Gasp rely on Mercy:
O hear me! hear me! hear me!

Anto.
What can'st thou say to win regard? or do
To make me Reparation?

Cata.
Expose me not to the reproachful World,
Let me not be the Grin of Vulgar Women:
For you I scorn'd Mankind, and broke thro' all
Impediments, all Ties, to reach your Bosom.
The Fruit is blushing ripe, and waits your pull;
Ah! throw it not before you've tasted from you.

Anto.
I've sworn! I've sworn!—Away audacious Woman!

Cata.
No, you're my own, and 'tis a Sin to leave you:
I'll follow like your Shadow, round the World,
Till you encline to Mercy!

Anto.
Never! never!
If to unswear my Oath be to have Mercy,
I shall be more than cruel.

Cata.
Nay, drag me, dash my Body on the Floor,
I'll hold the faster—Since w're join'd for Life,
'Tis only Death shall part us!

Anto.
Let him come,
His mortal Frown wou'd now
Charm my Soul more than all the Smiles of Mercy.
Away!—

Cata.
O cruel! monstrous! and unchristian!
Was ever any Bride before us'd thus
Upon the Marriage Night? when all her Hopes
Were full, and every Wish was ripe for Joy—
O yet relent and save me!

Anto.
Save your self
By a well-tim'd Repentance, but from me
Expect no Pity, but my mortal Curses.
Let go Witch! Woman! Fury! or, by Heav'n,
I'll cut away thy Hold.

Cata.
O all ye Pow'rs!—I am your Wife, my Lord!
It is your Wife that kneels! your Wife! your Wife!
Will nothing, nothing charm him!

Anto.
That the least
Of all that thou canst say—A Wife? Damnation!

[She rises.
Cata.
O I can bear no more—
If you're a Man, and hope for Heav'n, support me.

[Sinking down.
Anto.
Ha!
[Catching her.
In charity I'll save thee from the Fall.
Enter Diego hastily.
Could not thy Diligence prevent this ruine?

Dieg.
O! no, my Lord; I heard of it too late—

Anto.
Here, Diego,
Hold her, and when the Fit is over, follow.
I'll take this opportunity to go.
Yet something bids me stay—It must not be,
Why should I pity her that tortures me?
To love in vain, we think a wretched state;
But what is Wedlock with a Wife we hate?
All human Woes in one compendious Ill;
Happy is he that can exchange for Hell.
[Exit. Anto.

Cata.
Oh!—
Unhand me Traytor! Caytiff! Villain! Devil!

[Exit. Diego.
Cata.
Horror! Disgrace! Confusion! Death and Hell!
What gone? Destruction trace him step by step,
And endless Torment be his slightest Pain!
Why, this is yet more barbarous than the rest,
To leave me in the strug'lings of my Soul,
Undress'd, and in th'Embraces of his Slave.
Brutal, unmannerly, unsinew'd Villain!
Vain Love, adieu! unworthy of the Rule,
Revenge, a better Master, holds the Reign,
And with relentless Fury Steels my Soul.
Ansilva—O be quick—Had not my Plot
Been deeply laid, how much had I been fool'd?

Enter Ansilva trembling. Thunder.
Ansil.
O, Madam!—

Cata.
What's the matter? ha! why shak'st thou?
And why thy Cheeks so pale? Not answer me?
By Heaven then all's not well! Yet speak it out,
And ease my tortur'd Soul.

Ansil.
Then take the worst at once, your Sister's gone.

Cata.
The worst? The best—You shou'd have told me sooner,
I meant to see, and triumph o'er her Death:
But as it is, it true Revenge will be,
For now he neither shall have her, nor me.

Ansil.
O you mistake my meaning! She is fled,
This Minute gone, and our Design discover'd:
For on her Table lay her Parrot dead,
His Beak all stain'd with that Abortive Potion,
Which we design'd shou'd reach a nobler Fate.

Cata.
Gone? Impossible! It must not be:
Swallow thy Lye, or Hell will swallow thee!

Ansil.
'Tis true! 'tis true! And, which is worst of all,
Antonio's the Companion of her flight,
I saw him hurrying her away; e'er this
They are beyond our reach.

Cata.
O frontless Strumpet!
[Lays hold on her.
Nothings more sure than that thou hast betray'd me,
How cou'd it else be known? Tell how, and when,
Or else, by Heav'n, I'll nail thee to the Ground.

[Shews a Dagger.
Ansil.
O, Madam! I confess, Diego—

Cata.
Hold—
I've better thought, I'll give you not that trouble.

[Stabs her.
Ansil.
Murder—Oh!—

[Dies.
Cata.
Enough's confest already.
So—now disclose the Secret.—Murder! Murder!
Sure they are as fast as she, or else this Storm,
Without my Cries, wou'd wake 'em.—Murder! Murder!
Enter several Servants.
Go ring th'Alarum Bell, call up my Father
From his soft Rest, to see this horrid sight,
That wou'd make Tygers melt into Compassion!
Away!—
[Exeunt Servants.
Enter Sebastian, Vilander.
O, Brother! but y'are come too late, see there
Where poor Ansilva lies, stabb'd by Antonio.

Sebast.
Have a care what you say.

Cata.
Nay, it is true,
As I shall hope for Mercy. O, Ansilva!
More than a Servant, for thou wast my Friend:
Thou'rt gone! thou'rt gone! and I shall mourn thy Memory.

Sebast.
Strange Accident!—Haste, call Alphanta hither.

[Exit Serv.
Vilan.
Ha! my Lord, say that she can't be found:
The Lunatick is gone, none knows which way,
And I believe she wou'd not stay behind him.

Enter Vilarezo. Thunder.
Vilar.
What Cries are these, that to a Night so dismal
Can yet add further Horror?

Cata.
There's the cause:
See poor Ansilva weltring in her Blood,
Kill'd by that cursed Villain, false Antonio.
Was ever any Woman forc'd before,
I'accuse her Husband of a deed so horrid,
Upon her Bridal Night?

Sebast.
Her Husband, says she?

Vilar.
Yes, and tells you true.
This Night I drank Antonio to a pitch,
And in his Mirth he marry'd Catalina,
Not in the least perceiving the Deceit.

Sebast.
O stain to Hospitality and Honour!
What have you done?

Vilar.
Done that that pleas'd me best,
Th'Exchange is for his good;
And tho' I have depriv'd Berinthia of him,
Thou hast him fast; he is thy Brother still.
But at Ansilva's Murder I'm amaz'd,
And more to hear Antonio was the Actor.

Cata.
As soon as e'er he came into my Chamber,
He put aside the Curtain with his Hand;
And, seeing me, broke out into such Terms,
Courage it self wou'd have turn'd pale to hear.
When from behind I heard Berinthia's Voice
Cry, End her, or expect no Joy from me.
With that he wound one hand into my Hair,
And in the other held his Ponyard drawn;
And just as he advanc'd his cursed Arm,
Ansilva rush'd betwixt,
Thinking to break the Blow, and in her Breast
Receiv'd the Stroke he did intend to me,
Mean while I left the Room and call'd for help.
When I came back I found Antonio gone.
And poor Ansilva (who I know not how
Had stragger'd hither) breathing out her last.

Vilar.
O worse than Devils damn'd! Search, find 'em out,
(Is this the Sister you extol for Vertue?)
[To Sebast.
By Heav'n they shall be us'd with utmost Rigor.

Cata.
Alas! You'll search in vain, they've took their flight,
He has in triumph born his Prize away.

Vilar.
What Prize d'ye mean?

Cata.
My Sister.

Vilar.
He cou'd not be so base!

Cata.
You'll find he was, and worse than I have spoke him.
See at your Feet your wretched Daughter kneel:
[Kneels.
Let not my Sister glory in her Crimes,
And tryumph o'er my Vertue: Nor let him,
That cou'd so basely use me, go unpunish'd.
My Injuries surmount all human Pardon.
What Salve is there for violated Honour?
To you I, kneeling, make the same Request,
[To Sebast.
I am your Sister, is Berinthia more?
O pity me, by too much Love betray'd:
Revenge a slighted, and a murder'd Maid.

[Rises and Exit.
Vilar.
Revenge d'ye say? Nay, we will have Revenge.
My Son, what in a Dream?

Sebast.
I'm thinking, if 'tis possible my Friend
Cou'd be so great a Villain.

Vilar.
'Tis too sure.

Enter a Servant hastily and whispers Sebastian.
Sebast.
How? not at her Apartment?

Serv.
No, my Lord,
Nor in the House I'm certain; for sh'as left
Her things in such disorder, as does shew
She went in haste, and meant not to return.

Sebast.
O Woman! Woman! damn'd inconstant Sex!
Design'd to please us, but resolv'd to vex.
The Plagues you heap on Man, the Strifes and Cares,
Are far more num'rous than his Sins, or Hairs.
Perjury's your Sport; your Vows you from you blow,
As little wanton Boys their Bubbles do;
We please our selves, like them, with looking on,
But wink, the gawdy, brittle Thing is gone.

Vilar.
What is he mad?

Vilar.
No, my Lord, he's just come to his Senses.

Sebast.
Alphanta, Sir, in whom I centr'd all
My Hope of worldly Joy,
Is with a loose Impostor fled away,
That feign'd himself a mad Man:
Her Brother too, that outside of a Friend,
Was privy to their Flight, it must be so;
There's not a Circumstance but does confirm
That, by agreement, they're all gone together.
Say quickly, Sir, what wou'd you have me do?
For I am all Revenge.

Vilar.
Be not so Violent. As for Alphanta,
If she is false, you may be glad y'ave mist her.
But follow him with all the speed you can,
Demand thy Sister—but, upon my Blessing,
Observe me, let no Violence be shown:
If he refuse to send her back, I'll use
No Sword but Law. Partly I'm in the Fau't,
And partly I must suffer.—Heav'n protect thee.

Sebast.
I'll take such Measures as shall not displease you.
[Ex. Sebast.

Vilar.
The Night's deliver'd of her monstrous Birth;
[Thunder.
Nature does groan as if she wou'd expire,
The Bolts fly thick, the Clouds drop liquid Fire!
O Conscience! We are Cowards made by Sin;
I shou'd not fear if all were well within.
[Ex. Vilar.

Enter Gerardo. Thunder.
Gerar.

Where? where are these Thieves? these Murderers?—'Gad I
believe a man may be as safe in their Company as any where else.—D'ye
hear what a Rattle there is above Stairs?

Vilan.
Presumptuous Wretch! See where your Mistress lies,
Snatch'd from the World, by an untimely Fate,
In all her gawdy Bloom.

Gerar.

How? dead! Murder!—hum—'tis no ill sort of Disappointment
tho'—every thing consider'd, I know not well whether 'tis
most proper to be merry, or sad.

Vilan.

What? is the death of a Mistress no more?—I find he that has
no Religion, has but little Humanity.

Gerar.

Why faith, Vilander, most unmercifully this Night she intended to
have hamper'd me for Life—How she might have prov'd is uncertain.
Now there's no Fau't to be found.

Vilan.

How? intended to have marry'd you?

Gerar.

Ay, the Priest, the Leech monger is waiting in my Chamber: I
left him crossing himself as if his Conscience had been troubl'd with the rising
of the Lights, or thrown up his Sins of Plurality, Simony, Hipocrisie and
Pride, for want of taking a Dram of Atheism for Digestion.

Vilan.

What wou'dst thou think of that Man that had the Itch thirty
Years ago, and shou'd now desire to be scratch't for it? Thy thoughts of a
Wife at this time of Day is equally ridiculous.

Gerar.

Very fine Doctrine,—is Marriage unlawful then?

Vilan.

Ay, no doubt, when the end of it is perverted: What canst thou
propagate but Diseases? I wonder what Argument prevail'd on thee to
think of ent'ring into Wedlock.

Gerar.

Why he that has his Hell here may the better hope to be excus'd
hereafter.

Vilan.

How will it fare with you, then, who are pleas'd; y'are without
that Excuse?

Gerar.

Agad let what will come, I'm glad 'tis as 'tis.—What Marriage
is we have wofull Experience: What t'other Hell is we have none:
And why shou'd another Man's Fears of an imaginary Limbo make me run
into one that is real?

Vilan.

Cautiously consider'd truly. And whither d'ye think Fornication
will carry you?

Gerar.

Hum—Fornication—take up the Body. I'm resolv'd I'll
be at the Charge of a Monument for her, and have an Epitaph engrav'd
on't that shall preserve her Memory to Posterity, and stand Candidate for
the Eight Wonder of the World.

Vilan.
And pray what must that be?

Gerar.
Under this Marble there is laid,
One of Fifteen that dy'd a Maid.

That's the wonder, Sir, her living a Maid so long.—But come, bring
her away, bring her away.

[Ex. Gerar. Serv. with the Body.
Vilan.
How hard it is ill Habits to remove?
In vain does Man, in vain does Heav'n reprove:
To swift Destruction, wilfully w'are bent,
For no Man's damn'd without his own Consent.

[Ex. Vilan. Thunder.