Title: The Fatal Falsehood: A Tragedy. In Five Acts
Author: Hannah More
Release date: May 29, 2011 [eBook #36257]
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net
Earl Guildford, | Mr. Clarke. |
Rivers, his Son, | Mr. Lewis. |
Orlando, a young Italian Count, | Mr. Wroughton. |
Bertrand, | Mr. Aickin. |
Emmelina, | Miss Younge. |
Julia, | Mrs. Hartley. |
Scene—Earl Guildford's Castle. |
Our modern poets now can scarcely choose A subject worthy of the Tragic Muse; For bards so well have glean'd th' historic field, That scarce one sheaf th' exhausted ancients yield; Or if, perchance, they from the golden crop Some grains, with hand penurious, rarely drop; Our author these consigns to manly toil, For classic themes demand a classic soil, A vagrant she, the desert waste who chose, Where Truth and History no restraints impose. To her the wilds of fiction open lie, A flow'ry prospect, and a boundless sky; Yet hard the task to keep the onward way, Where the wide scenery lures the foot to stray; Where no severer limits check the Muse, Than lawless fancy is dispos'd to choose. Nor does she emulate the loftier strains Which high heroic Tragedy maintains: Nor conquests she, nor wars, nor triumphs sings, Nor with rash hand o'erturns the thrones of kings. No ruin'd empires greet to night your eyes, No nations at our bidding fall or rise; To statesmen deep, to politicians grave, These themes congenial to their tastes we leave. Of crowns and camps, a kingdom's weal or woe, How few can judge, because how few can know! But here you all may boast the censor's art; Here all are critics who possess a heart. Of the mix'd passions we display to-night, Each hearer judges like the Stagyrite. The scenes of private life our author shows, A simple story of domestic woes; Nor unimportant is the glass we hold, To show th' effect of passions uncontroll'd; To govern empires is the lot of few, But all who live have passions to subdue. Self-conquest is the lesson books should preach, Self-conquest is the theme the Stage should teach. Vouchsafe to learn this obvious duty here, The verse though feeble, yet the moral's clear. O mark to-night the unexampled woes Which from unbounded self-indulgence flows. Your candour once endur'd our author's lays, Endure them now—it will be ample praise. |
Scene—An Apartment in Guildford Castle.
Enter Bertrand.
Ber. What fools are serious melancholy villains! |
Enter Guildford. |
How fares my noble uncle? |
Guild.Honest Bertrand! |
Ber. O, my good lord! your pardon—spare me, sir, |
Guild. Well, be it so—youth has a privilege, |
Ber. Your gentleness, my lord, and mild reproof, |
Guild. Saw you my beauteous ward, the Lady Julia? |
Ber. She past this way, and with her your fair daughter, |
Guild. Call them both my daughters; |
Ber. Oft have I wonder'd how the gallant Rivers, |
Guild. 'Twas the condition of her father's will, |
Ber. Yet fame speaks loudly of his early valour. |
Guild. Ere since th' Italian Count, the young Orlando, |
Ber. Orlando's noble. |
Guild. And here comes one, |
Ber. What, your charming daughter! |
Enter Emmelina. |
Guild. Come hither, Emmelina: we were speaking |
Em. (confused.) Of Orlando? |
Guild. Nay, he has merit |
Em. What has he done? How has he wrong'd my father? |
Guild. Nay, 'tis not much: |
Em. My lord, when first my brother's friend arriv'd—— |
Ber. She dares not use his name. |
Em. When first your noble guest |
Ber. Why trembles my fair cousin? |
Em. Can I think |
Ber. (ironically.) Generous pity! |
Em. I shall never. |
Ber. And why another's life? Why not Orlando's? |
Guild. He's still the same, the gibing, thoughtless Bertrand, |
[Exit Guildford: Emmelina going. |
Ber. Stay, my fair cousin! still with adverse eyes |
Em. But that I know your levity means nothing, |
Ber. Come, confess the truth, |
Em. Ha! what has he confess'd? |
Ber. That you are wond'rous fair: nay, nothing further: |
Em. Know, Sir, that virtue no concealment needs: |
Ber. Yet mark me well: trust not Orlando's truth; |
[Exit Bertrand. |
Em. No more; but leave me. |
Re-enter Bertrand with Orlando. |
Ber. Now to alarm her heart, and search out his. |
[Aside. |
Or. We crave your pardon, beauteous Emmelina, |
Em. Be still, my heart, nor let him see thy weakness. |
[Aside. |
We are much bound to thank you, cousin Bertrand, That since your late return the Count Orlando Appears once more among us.—Say, my lord, Why have you shunn'd your friends' society? Was it well done? My father bade me chide you; I am not made for chiding, but he bade me: He says, no more you rise at early dawn With him to chase the boar: I pleaded for you; Told him 'twas savage sport. |
Or. What was his answer? |
Em. He said 'twas sport for heroes, and made heroes; |
Or. O, my fair advocate! scarce can I grieve |
Ber. (aside.) So, I like this well; |
Em. My Lord, your pardon; |
[Exit. |
Ber. In truth, my Lord, you're a right happy man; |
Or. What shall I say? |
Ber. The hour is come |
Or. I cannot tell thee; 'tis a tale of guilt: |
Ber. My bosom is not steel'd with that harsh prudence |
Or. I own that she has charms |
Ber. What do I hear! you love her not! |
Or. Oh, Bertrand! |
Ber. Heard I aright? Did you not speak of Julia? |
Or. Go on, go on, and urge me with my guilt; |
Ber. Just as I wish.[Aside. |
Or. Thou know'st I left my native Italy, |
Ber. So far I knew; but what of Emmelina? |
Or. Whether her gentle beauties first allur'd me, |
Ber. But where was Julia? |
Or. Oh, too soon she came: |
Ber. Does Julia know your love? |
Or. Forbid it, heaven! |
Ber. Trust me, you judge too hardly of yourself. |
Or. Think I have lodg'd a secret in thy breast |
[Exit. |
Ber. Am I awake?—No: 'tis delusion all! |
[Exit. |
Enter Julia and Emmelina.
Jul. How many cares perplex the maid who loves! |
Em. Forbear these fears; they wound my brother's honour: |
Jul. I know his faith, and venerate his virtues; |
Enter Guildford. |
Guild. Where are my friends, my daughter where is Julia? |
Em. My dearest brother! |
Jul. Ha! my Rivers comes! |
Em. And yet my Julia trembles. |
Jul. Have I not cause? my Rivers comes! but how? |
Guild. He comes a conqueror! |
[Exit. |
Jul. My joy oppresses me! |
Em. And see, Orlando! |
Enter Orlando and Bertrand. |
Jul. My Lord Orlando, |
Or. Still the same; |
Em. If Rivers is the same, then must I think |
Or. Have I not lov'd him? was my friendship cold? |
Jul. Valiant Rivers! |
Ber. He's distant far, so I may safely praise him. |
[Aside. |
I claim some merit in my love of Rivers, Since I admire the virtues that eclipse me: With pleasure I survey those dazzling heights My gay, inactive temper cannot reach. |
Em. Spoke like my honest cousin. Then, Orlando, |
Or. How? when? |
Em. This day. |
Or. Impossible! |
Ber. Then all my schemes are air.[Aside. |
Em. To-day I shall embrace my valiant brother! |
Jul. You droop, my Lord: did you not hear her right? |
Or. He is most welcome! Is he not my friend? |
Ber. Joy to us all! joy to the Count Orlando! |
Em. My Lord! you are not well. |
Ber. Surprise and joy oppress him: I myself |
Em. How is it with you now? |
Or. Quite well—'tis past. |
Ber. The wonder's past, and nought but joy remains. |
Enter Guildford and Rivers. |
Guild. He's come! he's here! I have embrac'd my warrior; |
Jul. My Lord! my Rivers! |
Riv. 'Tis my Julia's self! |
Jul. My hero! Do I then behold thee? |
Riv. Oh, my full heart! expect not words, my Julia! |
Em. Rivers! |
Riv. My sister! what an hour is this! |
Or. My noble friend! |
Riv. This is such prodigality of bliss, |
Guild. She is thine, my son; |
Riv. Therefore I dare not ask her; |
[Guildford joins their hands. |
Jul. Spare me, my Lord.—As yet I scarce have seen you. |
[Exeunt Julia and Emmelina. |
Riv. (looking after Julia.) Oh, generous Julia! |
Or. (aside to Bertrand.) |
Ber. (aside to Orlando.) |
Riv. Forgive me, good Orlando, best of friends! |
Guild. England! the land of worth, the soil of heroes, |
Riv. Past are those Gothic days, and, thanks to heaven, |
Guild. But while thy generous soul, my noble boy, |
[Exeunt Guildford and Rivers. |
Or. Stay, Bertrand, stay—Oh, pity my distraction! |
Ber. I trembled for you: |
Or. 'Tis too much! |
Ber. On what? |
Or. To fly. |
Ber. To fly from Julia? |
Or. Yes, to fly from all, |
Ber. 'Tis cowardice to fly. |
Or. 'Tis death to stay. |
Ber. Where would you go?—How lost in thought |
Or. To solitude, to hopeless banishment! |
Ber. What! with monastic, lazy drones retire, |
Or. What can I do? |
Ber. (after a pause.) Beg she'll defer the marriage |
Or. How say'st thou? |
Ber. Still this cant of virtue! |
Or. Ask you what it is? |
[Exit. |
Ber. Curse on his principles! Yet I shall shake them; |
[Exit Bertrand. |
Enter Emmelina and Rivers talking. |
Em. Yet do not blame Orlando, good my brother; |
Riv. How's this? my father said Orlando lov'd thee. |
Em. Indeed I thought so—he was kinder once; |
Riv. If he has wrong'd thee—yet I know he could not; |
Em. When to this castle first Orlando came, |
Riv. Blush not to own it; 'twas a well-plac'd flame! |
Em. He talk'd of you; I listen'd with delight, |
Riv. Aye, what of her, indeed? why nam'd you Julia? |
Em. (confusedly.) Nay, 'twas nothing, |
Riv. (agitated.) |
Em. 'Twas as I said. |
Riv. (recovering himself.) |
Em. Oh, flatterer! thus to soothe my easy nature |
Riv. This precious moment, worth a tedious age |
[Exeunt. |
Scene—A Garden.
Em. Why do my feet unbidden seek this grove? |
Enter Orlando. |
Or. Why, at this hour of universal joy, |
Em. I might retort the charge, my lord Orlando! |
Or. Oh, my fair monitress! I have deserv'd |
Em. Julia complains, too, of you. |
Or. Ah! does Julia? |
Em. Why so alarm'd? |
Or. Alarm'd! |
Em. Indeed you seem'd so. |
Or. Sure you mistake. Alarm'd! oh, no, I was not; |
Em. Of Julia? |
Or. That Julia was displeas'd——was it not so? |
Em. She complains |
Or. How! that I avoid her? |
Em. Why are you terrified? |
Or. No, |
Em. If she did, |
Or. No cause? O there's a cause of dearer worth than empire! Quick let me fly, and find the fair upbraider; Tell her she wrongs me, tell her I would die Rather than meet her anger. |
[Emmelina faints. Ah, she faints! |
What have I said? curse my imprudent tongue! Look up, sweet innocence! my Emmelina—— My gentle friend, awake! look up, fair creature! 'Tis your Orlando calls. |
Em. Orlando's voice! |
[Exit Emmelina. |
Or. So then, all's over; I've betray'd my secret, |
Enter Rivers. |
Riv. The same. My other self! My own Orlando! |
Or. That I have ever lov'd thee, witness Heaven! |
Riv. What does Orlando mean? |
Or. That I must leave thee, Rivers; must renounce |
Riv. Thou hast been injur'd; |
Or. He is all goodness; no—there is a cause—— |
Riv. Now, by holy friendship! |
Or. It must, it must. |
Riv. Ah, must! then tell me wherefore? |
Or. I would not dim thy dawn of happiness, |
Riv. Is this the heart of him I call'd my friend, |
Or. Alas, how chang'd indeed! |
Riv. Then thou resolv'st to go? |
Or. This very day. |
Riv. What do I hear? To-day! It must not be: |
Or. Wed her to-day? |
Riv. This day unites me to her; |
Or. Impossible! another day were ruin. |
Riv. Then let me fly to Julia, and conjure her |
Or. Oh, no, no, no. |
Riv. I will: in such a cause |
Or. Canst thou bear this, my heart? |
Riv. Then, my Orlando, |
Or. Ah! my brain turns! |
Riv. 'Tis as I thought; I'll try him. [Aside. |
Or. Ha! how? I am betray'd! he reads my heart. |
Riv. Hast thou, with all that tenderness of soul, |
Or. Ha! dost thou know? |
Riv. Come, no more; |
Or. How's this? what! dost thou justify my passion? |
Riv. Applaud it—glory in it—will assist it. |
Or. How! |
Riv. She is another Julia. |
Or. I stood upon a fearful precipice— |
Riv. Be more explicit. |
Or. For the present spare me. |
[Exit Orlando. |
Riv. It must be so—to what excess he loves her! |
[Exit. |
Re-enter Orlando. |
Or. Wed her to-day? wed her perhaps this hour? Hasten the rites for me? I give her to him? I stand a tame spectator of their bliss? I live a patient witness of their joy? First let this dagger drink my heart's warm blood. |
[Takes a dagger from his bosom, then sees Julia. |
The sorceress comes! oh, there's a charm about her Which holds my hand, and makes me wish to live. I shudder at her sight! open, thou earth, And save me from the peril of her charms! |
[Puts up the dagger. |
Enter Julia. |
Jul. Methought I heard the cry of one in pain; |
Or. (furiously.) Die! |
Jul. Talk you of death? renounce the fatal thought; |
Or. For thy sake? |
Jul. And for the sake |
Or. Is it to-night? |
Jul. It is, and yet you leave us. |
Or. No——I'll stay, |
Jul. What mean you? |
Or. That I'll perish at the feet |
Jul. Tell your sorrows to my lord; |
Or. Tell him? Tell Rivers? |
Jul. Hate you? how you wrong me! |
Or. Hope you for joy? |
Jul. Have I not cause? Am I not lov'd by Rivers? |
Or. Enough! enough! |
Jul. What is it? |
Or. That till to-morrow's sun, I ask no longer, |
Jul. Ah! defer it? |
Or. No matter what; 'tis for his sake I ask it: |
Jul. His life? the life of Rivers? |
Or. I dare not. |
Jul. What rage? what madman? what remorseless villain? Orlando—will not you protect your friend? Think how he loves you—he would die for you— Then save him, on my knees, I beg you save him— |
[Kneels. |
Oh! guard my Rivers from this bloody foe. |
Or. Dearer than life I love him—ask no more, |
Jul. Oh, save him! save him! |
Or. 'Tis to preserve him that I ask it: promise, |
[He draws the dagger, she still kneeling. |
Jul. I do promise. Hide, hide that deadly weapon—I do promise. |
[Rises. |
How wild you look! you tremble more than I. I'll call my Rivers hither. |
Or. Not for worlds. |
Jul. Be more compos'd; I leave you with regret. |
(As Julia goes out, enter Bertrand; he speaks behind.) |
Ber. Why, this is well; this has a face; she weeps, |
Or. (after a pause.) And is she gone? |
Ber. 'Twill do. |
Or. For me? what say'st thou? Julia weep for me! |
Ber. Ungrateful! |
Or. How? |
Ber. Not by her tears, I judge, |
Or. What did she say? What didst thou hear, |
Ber. It is not safe to tell you. |
Or. Stay, |
Ber. That threat unlocks my tongue; I must not lose thee. |
Or. No more; thou shalt not tempt me to my ruin; |
Ber. Then my point's gain'd; that will make Rivers jealous. |
[Aside. |
She loves you. |
Or. No; and even if she did, |
Ber. You are too scrupulous. |
Or. Shall I defraud my friend? he bled to gain her! |
[Exit. |
Ber. Rave on, and beat thy wings; poor bird! thou'rt lim'd, |
Scene—An Apartment.
Em. How many ways there are of being wretched! |
Enter Guildford. |
Guild. Come to my arms, |
Em. Tears! heaven and earth! see if he does not weep! |
Guild. He who has drawn this sorrow from my eyes |
Em. Ah, weep for me? |
Guild. Thou art all innocence; |
Em. What of him? |
Guild. I cannot tell thee; |
Em. Oh, speak! |
Guild. Canst thou not guess, and spare thy father? |
Em. 'Tis possible I can—and yet I will not: |
Guild. Then hear the worst, and arm thy soul to bear it. |
Em. (after a long pause.) |
Guild. Oh, there's an eloquence in that mute woe |
Em. See, I am calm; I do not shed a tear; |
Guild. (embraces her.) |
Em. I will not shame thy blood; and yet, my father, |
Guild. Long have I known thy love; I thought it mutual: |
Em. Ah! no more: |
Guild. Villain! villain! |
Em. Think no more on't: |
Guild. Thou hast a brother; |
Em. First strike me dead! |
[Exit Emmelina. |
Guild. What art thou, Life? thou lying vanity! |
Enter Rivers (not seeing Guildford). |
Riv. Yes, I fondly thought |
Guild. What means my son? |
Riv. O name her not! |
Guild. Not name her? |
Riv. No; if possible, not think of her; |
Guild. 'Tis as it should be; ere the midnight bell |
Riv. No. |
Guild. How? |
Riv. She has refus'd. |
Guild. Say'st thou? |
Riv. She has. |
Guild. Why, who would be a father! |
Riv. 'Twas but a little hour ago we parted, |
Guild. She consents to-morrow! |
Riv. Mere subterfuge! mere female artifice! |
Guild. I have grown old in camps, have liv'd in courts; |
[Exit Guildford. |
Riv. I would not deeper wound my father's peace; |
[Exit. |
Enter Julia. |
Jul. Stay, Rivers! stay, barbarian! hear me speak! |
Enter Orlando. |
Or. Julia in tears! |
Jul. Alas! you have undone me! |
Or. Better 'tis to weep |
Jul. Ha! weep for ever! |
Or. Not love! oh, cruel friendship! tyrant honour! |
Jul. Friendship! alas, how cold art thou to love! |
Or. Too well I know it; both alike destroy me, |
Jul. If you then have felt |
Or. Talk you of agonies? |
Jul. What dost thou mean? Unfold this fatal secret. |
Or. Nay, never start—I know I am a villain! |
Jul. Hold! astonishment |
Or. (rises.) From despair. |
Jul. What can you hope from me? |
Or. Hope! nothing. |
Jul. I leave thee to remorse, and to that penitence |
Or. A moment stay. |
Jul. I dare not. |
Or. Hear all my rival's worth, and all my guilt. |
Jul. Did he? Did Rivers? Then he loves me still— |
Or. (takes out the dagger.) First take this dagger; |
Jul. Farewell—repent—think better. |
[Exit Julia. [As she goes out, he still looks after her. |
Enter Rivers. |
Riv. Turn, villain, turn! |
Or. Ha! Rivers here? |
Riv. Yes, Rivers. |
Or. Gape wide, thou friendly earth, for ever hide me! |
Riv. Nay, turn, look on me. |
Or. Rivers! oh, I cannot, |
Riv. Doubly wrong'd me; |
Or. Take it. |
Riv. But I would take it as a man. |
Or. Not for a thousand worlds. |
Riv. Not fight? |
Or. Do; |
Riv. No, not stab thee like a base assassin, |
Or. Think of my wrongs. |
Riv. I feel them here. |
Or. Think of my treachery. |
Riv. Oh, wherefore wast thou false? how have I lov'd thee! |
Or. Of that no more: think of thy father's grief, |
Riv. Provoke me not. |
Or. Of Julia—— |
Riv. Ha! I shall forget my honour, |
Or. (drawing.) Swelling heart! |
As they prepare to fight, enter Emmelina hastily. |
Em. Lend me your swiftness, lightnings—'tis too late. |
Riv. Unlucky! 'tis my sister. |
Em. Ye men of blood! if yet you have not lost |
Or. (to Rivers.) |
Em. Does death want engines? is his power curtail'd? |
Riv. What! shall I then endure this outrage tamely? |
Em. No. If you covet death; if you're in love |
Riv. Is honour nothing? |
Em. Honour! O yes, I know him. 'Tis a phantom; |
Or. (throws away his sword.) |
Riv. (to Orlando.) |
Em. (comes up to Orlando.) I pity thee; |
Riv. Think of his crime. |
Em. Oh, think of his temptation! think 'twas Julia; |
Or. Think'st thou there is in death a pang like this? |
Em. See, Rivers melts; |
Or. I'll spare thy noble heart |
[Goes to stab himself with the dagger. |
Em. Barbarian! kill me first. |
Riv. (snatching the dagger.) Thou shalt not die! |
Or. Oh, hear me. |
Em. No. |
[Exit Emmelina. |
Or. (after a pause.) And I still live! |
Riv. Farewell! should I stay longer |
Or. Yet hear me, Rivers. |
[Exit Rivers, Orlando following. |
Enter Bertrand on the other side. |
Ber. How's this? my fortune fails me, both alive! |
[Exit. |
Scene—The Garden.
Ber. 'Twas here we were to meet; where does he stay? |
Enter Orlando. |
Or. At length this wretched, tempest-beaten bark |
Ber. Who feels secure stands on the verge of ruin. |
[Aside. |
Trust me, it joys my heart to see you thus: What have I not attempted for your sake! My love for you has warp'd my honest nature, And friendship has infring'd on higher duties. |
Or. It was a generous fault. |
Ber. Yet 'twas a fault. |
Or. Hear me, Bertrand! |
Ber. You're resolv'd: |
Or. What favours? |
Ber. Nay, nothing; I renounce these weak affections; |
Or. Letter! what letter? Julia write to me? |
Ber. I do not mean you should; nay, I refus'd |
Or. Refus'd to bring the letter? |
Ber. Yes, I refus'd at first. |
Or. Then thou hast brought it? |
Ber. 'Twere best not see it. |
Or. Not see it! how! not read my Julia's letter! |
Ber. Alas, how frail is human virtue! |
Or. Delicious poison! O how it taints my soul! give me the letter. |
[Bertrand offers it, Orlando refuses. |
Ha! where's the virtue which but now I boasted? 'Tis lost, 'tis gone—conflicting passions tear me. I am again a villain.—Give it—no; A spark of honour strikes upon my soul. Take back the letter; take it back, good Bertrand! Spite of myself compel me to be just: I will not read it. |
Ber. How your friend will thank you! |
Or. O, no more, no more. |
Ber. Some prudent counsel. |
Or. Then wherefore fear to read it? come, I'll venture: |
Ber. Since you force me.[Gives it. |
Or. Be firm, ye shivering nerves! It is her hand. |
Ber. I'm dumb: oh, Julia! what a fall is thine! |
Or. What! is it such a crime to love? away—— |
Ber. Be circumspect; the hour is just at hand; |
Or. Why so? |
Ber. 'Tis plain |
Or. Take her by force? I like not that: O Bertrand, |
Ber. I obey. |
[Exit Bertrand. |
Or. This giant sin, whose bulk so lately scar'd me, |
[Exit Orlando. |
Scene changes to another part of the garden—A grand pavilion—The moon shining. Enter Rivers in a melancholy attitude. |
Riv. Ye lovely scenes of long remember'd bliss! |
Enter Orlando. |
Or. Ha! Rivers here! would I had shunn'd his walks! |
Riv. Why does Orlando thus expose his health |
Or. I ask the same of Rivers? |
Riv. Because this solitude, this silent hour, |
Or. How? |
Riv. She denies me |
Or. (aside.) Then I'm lost, |
Riv. She will not pardon me one single fault |
Or. Wait till to-morrow, all will then be known. |
Riv. Wait till to-morrow? Look at that pavilion; |
Or. (aside.) That wounds too deeply. |
Riv. Soon as the midnight bell gave the glad summons, |
Or. All will be well to-morrow.—(Aside.) If I stay |
Riv. Good night; go you to rest; I still shall walk. |
[Exit Orlando. |
Riv. Yes, I will trace her haunts; my too fond heart, |
[Exit. |
Scene changes to another part of the garden. Re-enter Orlando. |
Or. Did he say rest? talk'd he of rest to me? |
Enter Bertrand. |
Bertrand! I was not made for this dark work; |
Ber. What of Rivers? |
Or. I've seen him. |
Ber. Where? |
Or. Before the great pavilion. |
Ber. (aside.) That's lucky, saves me trouble: were he absent, |
Or. He's most unhappy; |
Ber. He deceives you; |
Or. I am myself the traitor. |
Ber. Come, no more! |
Or. The fitter for dark deeds like mine. |
Ber. I have prepar'd your men; when the bell strikes, |
Or. A sword!—I'll murder no one—why a sword? |
Ber. 'Tis prudent to be arm'd;—no words,—take mine; |
Or. (looking at the sword.) |
[Exit Orlando. |
Ber. Thus far propitious fortune fills my sails; |
[Exit Bertrand. |
Enter Orlando on the other side. |
Or. Draw thy dun curtain round, oh, night! black night! |
[Runs off. |
Scene—The Pavilion. An arch'd door, through which Julia and her Maid come forward on the Stage. |
Jul. Not here? not come? look out my faithful Anna. |
[They go into the pavilion. |
Enter Orlando, his sword drawn and bloody, his hair dishevelled. |
Or. What have I done? a deed that earns damnation! |
[Julia comes out. |
Jul. My Rivers calls; I come, I come.—Orlando! |
Or. Yes, |
Jul. That perjur'd friend. |
Or. That devil! |
Jul. I'm betray'd. |
Or. Thou canst make ruin lovely, |
Jul. I bring thee here? |
Or. Yes, thou, bright falsehood! thou. |
Jul. No, by my hopes of heaven! where is my Rivers? |
Or. (catches her hand.) |
Jul. Ah! I dare not.—Blood! |
Or. Yes, thou dear false one, with the noblest blood |
Jul. Letter and message? |
Or. Then Bertrand has betray'd me! |
Jul. Oh! [She falls into her maid's arms. |
Or. O rich reward which Love prepares for Murder! |
Enter Guildford with servants. |
Guild. Where is he? |
Or. The storm comes on. 'Tis Guildford, good old man! |
Guild. Accurst of both, indeed. How, Julia fainting! |
Or. She's pure as holy truth; she was deceiv'd, |
Guild. Who tempted thee to this? |
Or. Love, hell, and Bertrand. |
Jul. (recovering.) Give me back my Rivers; |
Guild. Father! I am none; I am no more a father; |
Or. Seize me, bind me: |
[They seize Orlando. |
Jul. I will not long survive thee, oh, my Rivers! |
Enter Rivers with the dagger. |
Riv. Who calls on Rivers with a voice so sad, |
Guild. Ah, my son! |
Jul. 'Tis he, 'tis he! |
Julia and Rivers run into each other's arms. Orlando breaks from the guards and falls on his knees. |
Or. He lives, he lives! the god-like Rivers lives! |
Jul. Explain this wond'rous happiness? |
Riv. 'Twas Bertrand whom Orlando killed; the traitor |
Or. Good sword, I thank thee! |
Riv. In the tangled maze |
Guild. One of Orlando's men, |
Or. Murder! I bribe to murder? |
Riv. No; 'twas Bertrand |
Or. Exquisite villain! |
Guild. Fly to Emmelina, |
Enter Emmelina distracted. |
Em. Off, off! I will have way! ye shall not hold me: |
Riv. Nor has now; |
Em. I know it—yes, he lives |
Guild. My heart will burst. |
Or. Pierce mine, and that will ease it. |
Em. (comes up to her father.) |
Guild. Who can bear this? |
Or. I will not live to bear it. |
Em. (comes up to Orlando.) |
[Dies. |
Or. One crime makes many needful: this day's sin |
Riv. What hast thou done? |
Or. Fill'd up the measure of my sins. Oh, mercy! |
[Dies. [The curtain fails to soft music. |
Unhand me, gentlemen; by Heaven, I say, I'll make a ghost of him who bars my way. |
[Behind the scenes. |
Forth let me come—A Poetaster true, As lean as Envy, and as baneful too; On the dull audience let me vent my rage, Or drive these female scribblers from the stage. For scene or History, we've none but these, The law of Liberty and Wit they seize; In Tragic—Comic—Pastoral—they dare to please. Each puny Bard must surely burst with spite, To find that women with such fame can write: But, oh, your partial favour is the cause, Which feeds their follies with such full applause. Yet still our tribe shall seek to blast their fame, And ridicule each fair pretender's aim; Where the dull duties of domestic life, Wage with the Muse's toils eternal strife. What motley cares Corilla's mind perplex, While maids and metaphors conspire to vex! In studious dishabille behold her sit, A letter'd gossip, and a housewife wit; At once invoking, though for different views, Her gods, her cook, her milliner and muse, Round her strew'd room a frippery chaos lies, A chequer'd wreck of notable and wise; Bills, books, caps, couplets, combs, a vary'd mass, Oppress the toilet, and obscure the glass; Unfinish'd here an epigram is laid, And there, a mantua-maker's bill unpaid; Here, new-born plays foretaste the town's applause, There, dormant patterns pine for future gauze; A moral essay now is all her care, A satire next, and then a bill of fare: A scene she now projects, and now a dish, Here's act the first—and here—remove with fish. Now while this eye in a fine frenzy rolls, That, soberly casts up a bill for coals; Black pins and daggers in one leaf she sticks, And tears, and thread, and balls, and thimbles mix. Sappho, 'tis true, long vers'd in epic song, For years esteem'd all household studies wrong; When, dire mishap, though neither shame nor sin, Sappho herself, and not her muse, lies in. The virgin Nine in terror fly the bower, And matron Juno claims despotic power; Soon Gothic hags the classic pile o'erturn, A caudle-cup supplants the sacred urn; Nor books, nor implements escape their rage, They spike the ink-stand, and they rend the page; Poems and plays one barbarous fate partake, Ovid and Plautus suffer at the stake, And Aristotle's only sav'd—to wrap plum-cake. Yet, shall a woman tempt the tragic scene? And dare—but hold—I must repress my spleen; I see your hearts are pledg'd to her applause, While Shakspeare's spirit seems to aid her cause; Well pleas'd to aid—since o'er his sacred bier A female hand did ample trophies rear, And gave the greenest laurel that is worshipp'd there. |