University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

Enter Chamberlain, Bilarmo, Ornuo.
Ornuo.
Ne'er was so fair a Day, as this has been,
Succeeded by a Night so black and dismal!
A hideous Darkness, as when Chaos reign'd,
Sits brooding o'er the World; so thick the Gloom,
The very Tapers, with the Damp, expire!

Bilar.
And, which was yet more wonderful, (for 'tis
Perhaps what you've not heard) to Day at Noon
The Sky without a Cloud, and all serene,
A loud and sudden Thunder-clap was heard,
Whereon, immediately, an Earthquake follow'd,
But shook the Palace only; not a House
Beside, as 'tis reported, felt the Motion.

Cham.
To this, then, let me add my last Night's Dream,
And judge if all together is not strange.
Big with the Thought of this auspicious Day,
I went to Rest, and thus was entertain'd:
First, the Great Duke, majestick did appear,
By Myriads of his Subjects compass'd round;
Blessings their Mouths, and Joy fill'd ev'ry Eye!
I wink'd, and streight I saw 'em all in Tears!
As when a dark nocturnal Cloud o'ercasts
The Milky Way, and shuts the glitt'ring Scene;
So all their shining Ornaments, put on
To grace the Day, to Fun'ral Blacks were turn'd!
Their rich Embroid'ry, Purples, Pearl, and Gold,
At once obscur'd, and ev'ry Face was pale!
I ask'd the Cause, and for an Answer got
A lamentable Peal of Screams and Groans!
At which, affrighted, I awoke, and found
My self stretch'd like a Corpse upon the Ground!

[Loud Shrieks and Cries within.
Bilar.
What Cries are these? Or am I dreaming, too,
And palm upon my self these Sounds of Horror!

Ornuo.
No, these are real.—Ha! and still increase!
Pray Heav'n the Duke be safe!

Cham.
They do not come from his Apartment,
'Tis from the Womens Side. Hark! louder yet.
[Again.
It must be for the Dead, or from the Dying.

Ornuo.
I've been where I've heard Groans as loud as Storms,
And thought it Musick.—But this quite unmans me!—
Why stand we thus, and may be wanted there?
It may be Treach'ry levell'd at the Duke,
I'll know the Truth, or—

Bilar.
Stay, the Prince, his Uncle.

[The Cry continues.
Enter Berino.
Beri.
O Gentlemen! what means this shrill Alarm,
That pierces only not our Ears, but Souls!
Making the Night more hideous, which before
Was of it self so dreadful!

Cham.
We're ignorant yet: But see! where Torza comes,
Wringing her Hands, and, with affrighted Looks,
Tells, without speaking, she brings dismal Tidings.

Enter Torza.
Torza.
O Horror! Horror!
Moscovia is no more! the Pillar's sunk!
The Pillar that so high has rais'd her Glory,
Is sunk for ever!

Beri.
Ha! what say'st thou, Torza?

Torza.
The Duke! the Duke! your Royal Nephew, is poison'd!

All.
Treason! Murder!

Torza.
Nor is he gone alone, fair Adorissa;
His lovely, virtuous Dutchess, has embrac'd
The same sad Fate, and now is dying with him!

Beri.
His Dutchess!

Torza.
Yes, they were this Ev'ning marry'd.
O the whole Story is a Lab'rinth, where
You'll lose your selves for ever!
But Seraphana comes.—I dare no further.

Enter Seraphana.
Seraph.
O Prince, we're all undone!
Since first the World began, there ne'er was known
A Story of such Horror! dreadful Crimes!
And a most dreadful Punishment!

Beri.
Speak on! and rescue our affrighted Souls
From this astonishing Suspence!

Seraph.
Before the Duke
Left Mosco last, he did sollicit me
For such a Favour as I dare not mention.
With Courtship, Vows, and Presents, (tho' I still
With flat Denials did return 'em back)
He made his daily Batt'ry on my Virtue.
At last, tir'd with his Importunity,
(For tho' he lov'd, he did not love with Honour,)
I inform'd the Dutchess all; who, much enrag'd
To hear of it, bid me appoint a Place
To meet him, which I did; my own Apartment:
The Hour exactly Twelve, the Chamber dark,
And not a Word to pass on either Side.
For so her Highness order'd, that she might,
Calling for Lights, surprize him!
The fatal Hour arriv'd: The Dutchess plac'd
Her self there to receive him, with Intent
To reprimand him sharply on Conviction,
For such licentious Courses. Thus, expecting
His coming long, (as she but now inform'd me)
Light Fancies touch'd her Breast, a Warmth succeeded,
Which, by insensible Degrees, at last
Ripen'd into Desire.—Here the Duke
Ent'ring, and taking her for me, seiz'd on her,
With many an eager Kiss; while she, unable
To speak, or to resist,
Permitted him to ruin her for ever!

Beri.
Amazing! monstrous! most stupendous Crime!

Seraph.
Had it stopp'd here, it never had been known,
And I had been depriv'd of you for ever!
But she conceives; and brought a Dress in Fashion,
That from all mortal Eyes conceal'd her Shame;
And safely was deliver'd of a Daughter.

Beri.
Unnatural! fearful! horrid, and unchristian!

Seraph.
O that's not all! the most surprizing Part
Is yet behind!—This wretched, wretched Daughter!
She had by her own Son, this very Night
Was marry'd, wedded, bedded, to her Father!

Beri.
Stop where thou art, for I can hear no more!
O wretched Pair! O most prepost'rous Union!

Cham.
But what of Poison? Torza brought us Word
The Royal Duke was poison'd!

Seraph.
'Tis too certain!
By his own Mother's Hand!

Beri.
Yet, yet more horrid!
What cou'd prevail on her to do a Deed
So black and damnable? And murder him
She had her self ensnar'd? For he, it seems,
Was ignorant, as of the former Incest,
So of this sad Alliance!

Seraph.
Finding it wou'd be hard to break the Match,
She did design To-morrow to remove her
To some Retreat the Duke shou'd never know of:
Of which he having been before inform'd,
This Ev'ning marry'd her; yet 'twas not done
So privately, but that the Dutchess heard on't:
And, feigning she was pleas'd and reconcil'd,
Came to 'em, bless'd 'em, danc'd and revell'd with 'em;
And while the flowing Wine went freely round,
She privately spic'd both their Bowls with Poison,
And afterwards her own; fully resolv'd
Ne'er to have told who was the wretched Author.

Beri.
What cou'd her Meaning be for that?

Seraph.
To keep her Shame from being known, and to prevent
Their being guilty of a sadder Ruin.
At last she took her Leave; and order'd me
In less than half an Hour to attend her,
Thinking the Poison wou'd, undoubtedly,
Have had its full Effect before they bedded.
But when I came, and told her they were laid,
Lost in Amazement, Terror, and Despair,
She cou'd no longer keep the Secret in,
But made a full Discov'ry, as you've heard,
And bid me fly to save 'em!
Affrighted, I ran back, and with loud Cries,
The Prologue to their Fate, broke in upon 'em,
And told 'em all! When, leaping from the Bed,
Confounded and amaz'd, there streight began
A most distracted Scene! Shrieks, Swoons, and Groans,
Was all the Entertainment! Horror ne'er
Appear'd in so much ghastly Pomp before!
Their being poison'd scarce had their Regard;
They took not the least Notice they were dying!
The other dreadful Mischief sway'd in chief,
And all their Pain was swallow'd in their Grief!

Enter the Duke, supported; Agnon, Mirabella, Attendants, &c.
Duke.
O give me no more Antidotes! 'tis past—
All human Help is vain!—Have you yet found
Out Mirabella? She's the only Hope
We have left to save us.

Cham.
She's here t'attend you.

Duke.
My Time is short, and must not now be squander'd
In idle Questions.—I adjure you tell me
If Adorissa is your Daughter; speak the Truth;
Your Heav'n or Hell depends upon your Answer.

Mira.
My Lord she is not.

Duke.
Sink not yet, my Soul!—
Tho' now the Precipice beneath looks dreadful.
Ah! why then had you not inform'd us of it?
What End cou'd'st thou propose from joining us,
But sev'ring of thy self from Hope of Mercy?

Mira.
Much about nine Months after you left Mosco,
(Being then in Town) I had a Daughter born:
That very Ev'ning
The Dutchess came to me, to let me know
Her Sister Flavia (who, about that Time,
You may remember, dy'd,) was privately
Deliver'd of a Daughter; but wou'd ne'er
In Life or Death, disclose who was the Father:
Which made her Highness think, that, of his Side,
The Parentage was mean.
However, to conceal her Sister's Shame,
She begg'd of me to give out, I had Twins;
And, heaping Riches on me, made me swear
I always shou'd acknowledge her my own.
My Husband, just before, was sent upon
Some Embassy, which favour'd the Design:
But O! he lost his Life in the Employment.
My Daughter, likewise, dying, made me doat
The more on Adorissa, who, at last,
Grew such a Comfort to me, as in Years,
Advancing still in Piety and Honour,
So studious of her Duty, I've oft wept
For Grief she was not mine; and thought her sent
From Heav'n in Lieu of all my former Woes.
Now being, I believ'd, but your first Cousin,
Joyful of her Advance to so much Glory,
And proud to be thought Mother to the Dutchess,
I further'd the Affair; ignorant, Heav'n knows,
Of her true Birth.—Your Mother only's guilty.

Duke.
Why does there not break Thunder from the Clouds,
And strike me dead! Why opens not the Earth,
To take me in!—But Grief will do without 'em.

[Swoons.
Beri.
O wretched, wretched Prince!—Help! bend him forwards.
I cannot blame his sinking with his Grief;
What Atlas cou'd support the dreadful Weight?—
But see! he breathes again.—

Duke.
Again? Do I behold the Light again?
Do I yet breathe? Will yet the Grave not hide me?
O barb'rous Men! You shou'd have let me go,
When Nature was too weak to aid her self;
And not maliciously have dragg'd me back
To undergo new Tortures! With fresh Pain
Again to rack my Body, and to plunge
My Soul in deeper Horrors!—Providence,
Whose Blessings reach to all, excepted me,
Me only, of whole Myriads; to shew Man
How far Man may be wretched! And no one
Has yet e'er gone beyond me! I have fix'd
The Bounds of utmost Mis'ry!—Banishment,
Pain, Poverty, Contempt, nor Death it self,
Whips, Flames, and Darts, all Instruments of Torture,
All made yet tenfold worse than Fear can shape 'em,
Reach not to what I suffer!—Th'Outcast, at once,
Of Heav'n and Earth! Accursed here; and there
Pollution must not enter!

Seraph.
Cast not away your Hope, my Royal Lord; you're guiltless:
Mercy will attend you in your Death.

Duke.
Ha!—
Since yet you are not bedded, have a Care!
Beware you're not incestuously join'd!
If some prepost'rous Consanguinity
Stands not between you! Let the Registers
Be throughly search'd, the Nurses all examin'd,
Your Mothers brought to shrift, to swear one Womb
Contain'd not both of you! lest you run on
To such Pollutions as Heav'n can't forgive,
Alike unhappy, if you die or live!

Berino.
O sacred Sir! have Patience!

Duke.
Patience, say you?
See there!
Enter Adorissa, led by her Women.
What now can Reason or Religion do?
Frighted with that dire Object, they retire,
Own their Aid vain, and leave Despair triumphant!

Ador.
Where is my Lord! my dear-lov'd Lord! For by that Name
I yet may call him.—

Duke.
What I shall call thee,
I know not! Language has no proper Word
To name thee by! Ruin'd! undone! and lost!
Wretched! and miserable! all are thine!
Yet speak not half thy Grief!

Ador.
Afflict not thus
Your Soul for me; but arm your self from Heav'n,
With Resignation to the Will Divine,
And we shall triumph yet o'er all our Woes,
By Patience in our Death.

Duke.
Thy Voice was ever a harmonious Sound!
A Melody that cou'd all Passion tame!
I feel the Balm distil upon my Soul,
And am again at Peace.

Ador.
Sit down, my Lord, I am too weak to stand;
The angry Pow'rs above can't take it ill
That I am come to die with you: There is
No Incest in that Union.

Duke.
I was, my Love, returning back to thee,
For the same Purpose; all the Comfort now
This World can give me, is to leave it with thee.—
But what's the World?—
All Falshood, or will be so when thou'rt gone.
We will not then believe what they have told us,
But gently steal into each other's Arms,
Unknown ev'n to our selves, forget our Woes,
And die as happy as we thought to live.

Ador.
There's not a Glimpse of Hope; we're misinform'd:
'Tis all too true!—O sacred Sir, can such a Wretch
As I, without Presumption, think of Pardon?

Duke.
You're innocent, my Love, the new-born Babe,
If he were conscious of his Purity,
Cou'd not depart with greater Hope of Mercy.

Ador.
We cannot be too sure.—O let us kneel
T'implore divine Compassion!—Hear, ye Pow'rs,
[They kneel.
That have involv'd us in these Mists of Fate;
(A Maze where Angels wou'd have lost their Way,
Had they, like us, been left without a Clue.)
If ever I had yet a Thought of Incest,
But to detest it, let my Punishment
Exceed my Crime; but if you know me chaste,
If I am only ignorantly guilty,
Open your Crystal Doors, receive me in,
And let my Penitence attone my Sin.

Duke.
They hear! they hear! those Lips ne'er mov'd in vain!
[Rising.
I feel a springing Warmth revive my Heart,
And whisper to my Soul we shall be happy.—
But O! a Paleness has o'er-spread thy Face!
Thy Eyes, those Beams of Heav'n, grow dim, as if
Death hover'd o'er to close 'em!

Ador.
Yes! yes! I feel his heavy Hand upon me!
A sleepy Numbness creeps thro' all my Limbs,
And now the Poison racks me!—O my Lord!
Is it not criminal to love you still?
Dying, I own I love you; or, at least,
I most respect you; if that be a Fault,
I yet am lost for ever.

Duke.
Think not so:
Thy Love's all pure, refin'd from the Allay
Of corporal Aliment, as Angels is,
Whose immaterial Essence joins entire.—
But O I feel th'Arrest of Death has seiz'd me!
One Kiss, and let us take the long Farewel!

[Inclining towards her.
Ador.
Fly from me! touch me not! I'm all Contagion!
Our Breath but mix'd, wou'd turn incestuous Air,
Drive the Plague on, and blot out all Distinction!

Duke.
Preserve her Reason, Heav'n!

Ador.
Have you forgot our horrible Alliance?
Wife! Sister! Daughter! Father! Husband! Brother!
Was ever there so mix'd a Blood as this!—
Pray, pray for me! and O! pray for your self;
I wou'd not go to Heav'n, and miss you there.—
I'm dying! O Adieu! and witness for me,
I beg for Mercy with my latest Breath,
And breathe Repentance in the Pangs of Death!

[Dies.
Duke.
Look up! look up! and speak but one Word more!
She's gone! and now, as if I liv'd by her,
I feel my vital Faculties decay,
And Death's dark Curtains drawing o'er my Eyes.
Farewel my Friend! Berino will to thee
Be all I cou'd have been: And O Berino!
Govern uprightly; let no lawless Love
E'er get Possession of thee: See, in me,
How Heav'n abhors that Crime.—But I submit,
And wou'd not now, methinks, stay longer here,
In this bad World, to have the Globe my own.—
Thus much to you.—And now, my Love, I come!
Tho' Fate is partial here, 'twill not be so
Above, for there we shall find equal Usage;
There Joy and Purity for ever reign,
And there our Souls may mix without a Stain.

[Dies.
Enter Dutchess distracted, held by her Attendants.
Dutch.
Let the Winds blow: Stand off, and give me Air.—
Where am I now? What doleful Region's this?
The Seat of Woe and Pain! my proper Home!
See there! where Rape lies stretch'd, with glowing Cheeks,
Burning in Fire, as in his Lust before!
There Murder stands! his Locks all knotted Gore!
A dreadful Figure, waited on by all
That in Pursuit of human Blood seek Fame.
Him Incest follows, coupl'd with Despair,
Twins bred of me; Incest the elder Birth,
But t'other laid fast hold upon his Heel.—
O Hell! Hell! Hell!—But I'm awake again,
And all is but a Dream!—My Brain! my Brain!

Seraph.
Try, try Repentance, Madam, call for Mercy.

Dutch.
Mercy! thou'rt damn'd for having of the Thought!—
Mercy to me!—Ha! ha!—where's Justice, then?
Look on these ghastly Objects!—Cold and pale!
What Expiation can Repentance make
For wilful Murder, and for wilful Incest?
Delib'rate Crimes!—But see! they mount! they mount!
And take the Right-hand Way, the Path to Heav'n!
See! Wreaths of Glory round their Temples shine!—
But Oh! the Left-hand Way is Hell's and mine.

[Dies.
Berino.
A desperate Death.—
How many perish in a wild Despair,
That might find Mercy? Stricter to themselves,
Than Justice wou'd? For Mercy's infinite,
And is not to be limited by us;
To Mercy, then, we leave her.—
Never before, in so short Time, was known
So strange a Revolution.—Agnon, you
Seem most dejected; but don't let the Dead
Deprive the Living of thee: You shall find
You have but only chang'd, not lost your Master.
For you, O Seraphana! whom I've wrong'd,
From the first op'ning of this horrid Story,
I saw thy Innocence, and will reward it
With Truth and Love, and more than now I'll mention.—
'Tis not a Time to think of Nuptial Joys,
This Night we'll give to Grief.—And may this be
A Warning to us, sink into our Minds,
And have its full Effect, in bringing forth
A strong Abhorrence of all foul Desires;
That vicious Actions never may take Root;
For if we so will plant,—behold the Fruit!

[The Curtain falls.