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A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS.-BY NICHOI AS ROWE.

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ACT L

Tbe merit of thy god-like father's arms; SCENE L-A Garden lelongira to Sciolto's Palace. Before that country, which he long had servid

In watchful councils and in winter camps, Enter ALTAMONT and HORATIO. Had cast off his white ago to want and wretched. All. Let this auspicious day be ever sacred;

ness, No mourning, vo misfortunes bappen on it: And made their court to factions by his ruin. Let it be mark'd for triuiny:hs and rejoicings; Ali. Oh, great Sciolto! Oh, my more than Let harry lovers always make it holy,

father! Choose it to bless their hopes, and crown their Let me not live, but at thy very name wishes;

My eager beart springs up, ard leaps with joy. This happy day, that gives me my Calista.

When I forget the vast, vast debt I owe thee, Hlor. Yes, Altamurit; to-day lliy better stars (Forget!—but 'tis impossible) then let me Are joined to shed their bindest influence on thee; Forget the use and privile; e of reason; Sciolto's poble hand, that rais'd the first,

Be driven from the commerce of mankind, Half dead and drooping o'er thy father's grare, To wander in the desert among brutes, Completes its bounty, aud restores thy game To be the scorri of earth, and corse of learen! To that high rauk and lustre which it boasted, lior. So open, so unbounded was his goodness, Perore ungrateful Getoa War: fergot

It rerch'd orcy me, because I was thy fri.nd.

When that great man I lov'd, thy noble father, And then she sigh'd as it her heart were breaking Bequeath'd thy gentle sister to my arms,

With all the tend'rest eloquence of love His last dear pledge and legacy of friendship, I begg'd to be a sharer in her grief; That happy tie made me Sciolto's son;

But she, with looks averse, and eyes that froze He call'd us his, and, with a parent's foodness,

me, Indulg'd us in his wealth, bless'd us with plenty, Sadly reply'd, her sorrows were her own, Heal'd all our cares, and sweeten'd love itself. Nor in a father's power to dispose of. Alt. By heaven, he found my fortunes so aban- Sci. Away! it is the coz'nage of their sex; don'd,

One of the common arts they practise on us: That nothing but a miracle could raise 'em : To sigh and weep then when their hearts beat high My father's bounty, and the state's ingratitude, With expectation of the coming joy. Had stripp'd him bare, nor left him e'en a grave. Thou hast in camps and fighting fields been bred, Undone myself, and sinking in his ruin,

Unknowing in the subtleties of women;. I had no wealth to bring, nothing to succour bim, The virgin bride, who swoons with deadly fear, But fruitless tears.

To see the end of all her wishes near, Hor. Yet what thou couldst thou didst,

When, blushing, from the light and public eyes, And didst it like a son; when his hard creditors, To the kind covert of the night she flies, Urg'd and assisted by Lothario's father,

With equal fires to meet the bridegroom moves, (Foe to thy house, and rival of their greatness) Melts in his arms, and with a loose she loves. By sentence of the cruel law forbade

(Exeunt. His venerable corpse to rest in earth,

Enter LOTHARIO and ROSSANO.
Thou gav'st thyself a ransom for his bones;
Heav'n, who beheld the pious act, approv'd it, Loth. The father, and the husband !
And bade Sciolto's bounty be its proxy,

Ros. Let them pass,
To bless thy filial virtue with abundance.

They saw us not.
Alt. But see, he comes, the author of my happi- Loth. I care not if they did;
ness,

Ere long I mean to meet 'em face to face,
The man who sav'd my life from deadly sorrow, And gall 'em with my triumph o'er Calista.
Who bids my days be blest with peace and plenty, Ros. You lov'd her once.
And satisfies my soul with love and beauty.

Loth. I lik'd her, would have marry'd her, Ent.r SCIOLTO; he runs to Altamont, aud embraces But that it pleas'd her father to refuse me, him.

To make this honourable fool her husband; Sci. Joy to thee, Altamont! Joy to myself! For wbich, if I forget him, may the shame Joy to this happy morn, that makes thee mine; I mean to brand his name with, stick on mine. That kindly grants what nature had denied me, Ros. She, gentle soul, was kinder than her And makes me father of a son like thee.

father. Alt. My father! Oh, let me unlade my breast, Loth. She was, and oft in private gave mo hearPour out the fulness of my soul before you;

ing; Shew ev'ry tender, ev'ry grateful thought,

Till, by long list'ning to the soothing tale, This wondrous goodness stirs. But' 'tis im- At length her easy heart was wholly mine. possible,

Ros. I've beard you oft describe her haughty, inAnd utterance all is vile; since I can only

solent, Swear your reign here, but riever tell how much. And fierce with high disdain: it moves

my Sci. O, noble youth! I swear, since first I knew

wonder,
thee,

That virtue thus defended, should be yielded
Ev'n from that day of sorrow when I saw thee A prey to loose desires.
Adorn'd and lovely in thy filial tears,

Loth. Hear, then, I'll tell thoe:
The mourner and redeemer of thy father,

Once, in a lone and secret hour of night, I set thee down and seal'd thee for my own: When ev'ry eye was clos'd, and the pale moon Thou art my son, ev'n near me as Calista.

And stars alone shone conscious of the theft, Horatio and Lavinia, too, are mine;

Hot with the Tuscan grape, and high in blood,

(Embraces Hor.) Haply I stole, unheeded, to her chamber. All are my children, and shall share my heart. Ros. That minute sure was lucky. But wherefore waste we thus this happy day?

Loth. Oh, 'twas great! The laughing minutes summon thee to joy,

I found the fond, believing, love-sick maid, And with new pleasures court thee as they pass; Loose, unattir'd, warm, tender, full of wishes; Thy waiting bride e'en chides thee for delaying, Fierceness and pride, the guardians of her honour And swears thou com'st not with a bridegroom's Were charm'd to rest, and love alone was waking. Alt. Oh! could I hope there was one thought of Within her rising bosom all was calm, Altamont,

[haste. As peaceful seas that know no storms, and only One kind remembrance in Calista's breast,

Are gently lifted up and down by tides. The winds, with all their wings, would be too slow I snatch'd the glorious, golden opportunity, To bear me to her feet. For, oh, my father! And with prevailing, youthful ardour, press'd ber; Amidst the stream of joy that bears me on,

Till, with short sighs, and murmuring reluctance, Blest as I am, and honour'd in your friendship, The yielding fair one gave me perfect happiness. There is one pain that hangs upon my heart. Ev'n all the live-long night we pass'd in bliss, Sci. What means my son ?

In ecstasies too fierce to last for ever; Alt. When, at your intercessicn,

At length the morn, and cold indifference, came; Last night, Calista yielded to my happiness, When, fully sated with the luscious banquet, Just ere we parted, as I seal'd my vows

I hastily took leave, and left the nymph With rapture on her lips, I found þer cold

To think on what was past, and sigh alone. As a dead lover's statue on his tomb:

Ro«. You saw her soon again? A rising storm of passion shook her breast,

Loth. Too soon I saw her: Her eyes a piteous show'r of tears let fall,

For, oh! that meeting was pot like the former:

I found my heart no more beat high with transport, | With sighs as loud, and tears that fall as fast;
No more I sigh'd and languish'd for enjoyment; Then ever and anon she wrings her hands,
Twas past, and reason took her turn to reign, And cries, false, false Lothario!
While ev'ry weakness fell before her throne.

Loth. Oh, no more!
Ros. What of the lady?

I swear thou'lt spoil thy pretty face with crying, Loth. With uneasy fondness

And thou hast boauty that may make thy fortuno: She hung upon me, wept, and sigh'd, and swore Some keeping cardinal shall dote upon thee, She was undone; talk'd of a priest and marriage; And barter his church treasure for thy freshness. Of flying with me from her father's power;

Luc. What! shall I sell my innocence and youth, Call'l ev'ry saint and blessed angel down,

For wealth or titles, to perfidious man? To witness for her that she was my wife.

To man, who makes his mirth of our undoing! I started at that name.

The base, profess'd betrayer of our sex! Ros. What answer made you

?

Let me grow old in all misfortunes else, Loth. None; but, pretending sudden pain and Rather than know the sorrows of Calista ! illness,

Loth. Does she send thee to ch in her behalt? Escap'd the persecution. Two nights since,

I swear thou dost it with so good a grace, By message urg'd, and frequent importunity, That I could almost love thee for thy frowning. Again I saw her. Straight, with tears and sighs, Luc. Read there, my lord, there in her own sad With swelling breasts, with swooning and distrac

line, tion,

(Gues a letter.) With all the subtleties, and pow'rful arts

Which best can toll the story of her woes, Of wilful woman lab'ring for her purpose,

That grief of heart which your unkindness gives

her. Again she told the same dull, nauseous tale. Unmov'd, I begg'd her spare th' ungrateful sub Loth. (Readı.) “Your cruelty-Obedience to my ject,

father-give my hand to Altamont." Since I resolv'd, that love and peace of mind By heav'n, 'tis welld such ever be the gifts Might flourish long inviolate betwixt us,

(Aside.) Never to load it with the marriage chain:

With which I greet the man whom my soul hates That I would still retain her in my heart,

But to go on-"wish-heart-honour-too faithless My ever gentle mistress, and my friend;

weakness-10-morrow - last trouble-lost Calista." But for those other names, of wife and husband, Women, I see, can change, as well as men. They only meant ill nature, cares, and quarrels.

She writes me here, forsaken as I am, Ros. How bore she this reply?

That I should bind my brows with mournful Loth. At first her rage was dumb, and wanted

willow, words;

For she has given her hand to Altamont: But, when the storm found way, 'twas wild and Yet tell the fair inconstantloud:

Luc. How, my lord! Mad as the priestess of the Delphic god,

Loth. Nay, no more angry words: say to Calista, Enthusiastic passion swell'd her breast,

The humblest of her slaves shall wait her pleaEnlarg'd her voice, and ruffled all her form.

sure;
Proud, and disdainful of the love I proffer'd, If she can leave her happy husband's arms,
She call'd me villain! monster! base betrayer! To think upon so lost a thing as I am.
At last, in very bitterness of soul,

Luc. Alas! for pity, come with gentler looks : With deadly imprecations on herself,

Wound not her heart with this unmanly triumph; She vow'd severely ne'er to see me more;

And though you love her not, yet swear you do ; Then bade me fly that minute: I obey'd,

So shall dissembling once be virtuous in you. And, bowing, left her to grow cool at leisure.

Loth. Ha! who comes here? Ros. She has relented since, els why this mes Luc. The bridegroom's friend, Horatio. sage,

He must not see us here. To-mor row, early, To meet the keeper of her secrets here,

Be at the garden gate. This morning?

Loth. Bear to my love Loth. See the person whom you nam'd

My kindest thoughts, and swear I will not fail

her. Enter LUCILLA.

(Lothario putting up the letter hastily, drops Well, my ambassadress, what must we treat of?

it as he goes out. Exeunt Lothario and Come you to menace war and proud defiance,

Rossano one way, Lucilla another.) Or does the peaceful olive grace your message ?

Enter HORATIO.
Is your fair mistress calmer? Does she soften?

Hor. Sure, 'tis the very error of my eyes ;
And must we love again? Perhaps she means Waking, I dream, or I beheld Lothario;
To treat in juncture with her new ally,

He seem'd conferring with Calista's woman :
And make her husband party to th' agreement. At my approach they started and retir'd.
Luc. Is this well done, my lord? Have you put What business could he have here, and with
off

her? All sense of human nature ? Keep a little,

I know he bears the noble Altamont A little pity, to distinguish manhood,

Profess'd and deadly hate. What paper's this? Lest other men, though cruel, should disclaim you,

(Taking up the letler.) And judge you to be number'd with the brutes. Ha! To Lothario! 'Sdeath! Calista's name! Loih. I see thou'st learnt to rail.

(Opens it and reads.) Luc. I've learn'd to weep: That lesson my sad mistress often gives me :

Your cruelty has at length determined me; and I By day she seeks some melancholy shade,

have resolved this morning to yield a perfict ob d ence To hide her sorrows from the prying world; to my father, and to give my hand to Allamont, in At night she watches all the long, long hours, spite of my weakness for the false Lothario. I could And listens to the winds and begting rain,

almost wish I had that heart and that honour to be

slow with it, which you have robbed me of;"-D-D! For his dear sake, let peace be in your looks to the rest-But, oh! I fear, could I relieve 'em, I Ev'n now the jocund bridegroom waits your chould again be undone by the too fai'hless, yet too

wishes, lovely Lothario. This is the last weakness of my pin, He thinks the priest haš but half bless'd his marand to-morrow shall be the last in which I will indulye

riage, my eyes. Lucilla shall conduct you, if ycu are kind Till his frienų hails him with the sound of joy. enough to let me see you; it shall be the last trouble you Hor. Oh, never, never, never ! Thou art innoshall meet with from the lost

cent:
CALISTA." Simplicity from ill, pure native truth,

And candour of the mind, adoro thee ever:
The lost, indeed! for thou art gone as far

But there are such, such false oves, in the world, As there can be perdition. Fire and sulphur!

'Twould fill thy gentle soul with wild amazeHell is the sole avenger of such crimes.

ment Oh, that the ruin were but all thy own!

To hear their story told. Thou wilt even make thy father curse his age:

Lav. False opes, my lord ? At sight of this black scroll, the gentle Altamont

Hor. Fatally fair they are, and in their smiles (For, oh! I know his heart is set upon thee) Shall droop and hang his discontented head,

The graces, little loves, and young desires in

habit: Like merit scorn'd by insolent authority,

But all that gaze upon 'em are undone; And never grace the public with his virtues.

For they are false, luxurious in their appetites, What if I give this paper to her father?

And all the heaven they hope for is variety:
It follows that his justice dooms her dead,

One lover to another still succeeds,
And breaks his heart with sorrow; bard return
For all the good his hand has heap'd on us!

Another, and another after that,

And the last fool is welcome as the former; Hold, let me take a moment's thought.

Till having loy'd his hour out, he gives place, Enter LAVINIA.

And mingles with the herd that went before him. Law. My lord!

Lar. Can there bo such, and have they peace of Trust me, it joys my heart that I have found you.

mind? Inquiring wherefore you had left the company, Have they, in all the series of their changing, Before my brother's puptial rites were ended, One happy hour? If women are such things, They told me you had felt some sudden illness. How was I form'd so diff'rent from my sex? Hor. It were unjust. No, let me spare my My little heart is satisfy'd with you; friend,

You take up all her room, as in a cottage Lock up the fatal secret in my breast,

Which harbours some benighted princely stranNor tell him that which will undo his quiet.

ger, Lar. What means my lord ?

Where the good man, proud of his hospitality, Blor. Ha! said'st thou, my Lavinia ?

Yields all his homely dwelling to his guest, Lar. Alas! you know not wbat you make me And hardly keeps a corner for himself. suffer.

Hor. Oh, were they all like thee, men would Whence is that sigh? And wherefore are your

adore 'em, eyes

And all the business of their lives be loring: Severely rais'd to beav'd ? The sick man thus, The nuptial band should be the pledge of peace, Acknowledging the summons of his fate,

And all domestic cares and quarrels cease! Lifts up his feeble hands and eyes for mercy,

The world should learn to love by virtuous rules, And with confusion thinks upon his audit.

And marriage be no more the jest of fools. Hor. Oh, no! thou hast mistook my sickdess

[Exeunt. quite;

ACT II.
Tbeso pangs are of the soul. Would I had met
Sharpest convulsions, spotted pestilence,

SCENE I-A Hall.
Or any other deadly foe to life,
Rather than heave beneath this load of thought!

Enter CALISTA and LUCILLA. Lav. Alas! what is it? Wherefore turn you from Cal. Be dumb for ever, silent as the grave,

Nor let thy fond, officious lovo disturb Why did you falsely call mo your Lavinia, My solemn sadness with the sound of joy. And swear I was Horatio's better half,

If thou wilt sootb me, tell some dismal talo Since now you mean uukinoily by yourself, Oi pining discontent, and black despair; And rob mc of my partnersuip of sadness? For, oh! I're gone around through all my Nor. Seek not to know what I would hide from

thoughts,
all,

But all are indiguation, love, or shame,
But most from thce. I never knew a plcasure, And my dear peace of mind is lost for crer
Aught that was joyful, fortunate, or pood,

Luc. Why do you follow still that trand'ring But straight I ran to bless thee with the tidings,

fire, And laid up all my happiness with thee:

That bas misled your wcary steps, and Icares But wherefore, wherefore should I give thce pain ?

yon Then spare me, I conjure thee; ask no further; Benighted in a wilderness of woe, Allow my melancholy thoughts this privile:e, That alse Lothario? Turn from tho deceiver; And let 'em brood in secret o'er their sorrows. Turn, and behold where gentle Altamont,

Lav. It is enough; chide not, and all is well! Sighs at your feet, and wooes you to be bappy. Forgive me if I saw you sad, Horatio,

Cul. Away! I think pot of him. My sad soul And ask'd to weep out part of your misfortunes: Has form'd a dismal, melancholy scene, I wo'not press to know what you forbid me,

Such a retreat as I would wish to find; Yet, my lov'd lord, yet you must grant me this, An unfrequented vale, o'ergrown with trees, Forgot your cares for this opo Lappy day,

Mossy and old, within whose lonesome sbade Devole this day to pirth, and to your Ainmout; Ravons and birds ill-omen'd only dye!!;

me?

No sound to break the silence, but a brook

Such hearts as ours were never pair'd abore: That, bubbling, winds among the weeds: no mark m-suited to each other, -join'd, not match'd; Of any human shape that had been there,

Some sullen influence, or foe to both, Unless & skeleton of some poor wretch,

Has wrought this fatal marriage to undo us. Who had long since, like me, by love undone, Mark but the frame and temper of our minds, Sought that sad place out to despair and die in. Huw very much we differ. Evin this day, Luc. Alas, for pity!

That fills thee with such ecstasy and transport, Cal. There I fain would hide me

To me brings nothing that should make me bless it, From the base world, from malice, and from Or think it better than the day before, shame;

Or any other in the course of time, For 'tis the solemn counsel of my soul

That duly took its turn, and was forgotten. Nerer to live with public loss of honour :

Alt. If to behold thee as my pledge of happi'Tis fix d to die, rather than bear the insolence

ness, Of that tells

To know uone fair, none excellent, but thee; And her good stars that she is virtuous. II still to love thee with unweary'd constancy, To be a tale for fools! Şcorn'd by the women, Through wrinkled age, through sickness and mis And pity d by the men! Oh, insupportable!

fortune, Luc. Oh, hear me, hear your ever faithful crea- Through ev'ry season, ev'ry change of life, ture!

Be worth the least return of grateful lore,
By all the good I wish you, by all the ill

Oh, then let my Calista bless this day,
My trembling heart forebodes, let me entreat you And set it down for happy.
Never to see this faithless man again;

Cal. 'Tis the day
Let me forbid his coming.

In which my father gave my hand to Altamont; Cal. On thy life,

As such, I will remember it for ever.
I charge thee no; my genius drives me on;
I must, I will behold him once again:

Enter SCIOLTO, HORATIO, and LAVINIA. Perhaps it is the crisis of my fate,

Sci. Let mirth go on, let pleasure know no And this cao interview shall end my cares.

pause, My lab'ring heart, thật swells with indignation, But fill up ev'ry minute of this day, Heaves to discharge the burden: that once done, 'Tis yours, my children, sacred to your loves; The busy thing shall rest within its cell,

The glorious sun himself for you looks gay; And never beat again.

He shines for Altamont and for Calista. Luc. Trust not to that:

Let there be music, let the master touch Rage is the shortest passion of our souls:

The sprightly string and softly-breathing flute, Like narrow brooks that rise with sudden show'rs, Till barmony rouse ev'ry gentle passion, It swells in haste, and falls again as soon;

Teach the cold maid to lose her fears in love, Still as it ebbs the softer thoughts flow in,

And the fierce youth to languish at her feet. And the deceiver, love, supplies its place.

Begin: ev'n age itself is cbeer'd with music; Cal. I have been wrongd enough to arm my It wakes a glad remembrance of our youth, temper

Calls back past joys, and warms us into transAgainst the sniooth delusion; but, alas!

port. (Chide not my weakness, gentie maid, but pity

(Music) me,)

Take care my gates be open, bid all welcome; A woman's softness hangs about me still:

And all who rejoice with me to-day are friends : Then let me blush, and tell thee all my folly. Let each induige his genius, each be glad, I swear I could not see the dear betrayer

Jocund and free, and swell the feast with mirth; Kneel at my feet, and sigh to be forgivin,

The sprightiy bowl shall cheerfully go round, But my relenting heart would pardon all,

None shall be grave, nor too severely wise; And quite forget-'twas he that had undone me. Losses and disappointments, cares and poverty,

[Erit Luciila. The rich man's fusolence, and great man's Ha! Altamont! Calista, now be wary,

scorn, And guard thy soul's excesses with dissembling: In wine shall be forgotten all. To-morrow Nor let this hostile husband's eyes explore

Will be too soon to think and to be wretched. The warriog passions and tumultuous thoughts Oh grant, ye pow'rs, that I may see these That rage within thee, and deform thy reason.

happy Enter ALTAMONT.

(Pointing to Altamont and Calista.)

Completely blest, and I have life enough! Alt. Be gono my cares, 1 give you to the winds, And leave the rest indifferently to fate. Far to be borne, far from the happy Altamont!

(Exeunt. Calista is the mistress of the year ;

Hor. What if, while all are here intent on reShe crowOS

velling, Ard bids erin seasons with auspicious beauty,

all my hours be good and joyful. I privately went forth, and sought Lothario? Cal. If I were mistress of such happiness, This letter may be forg'd, perhaps the wanton. Oh!'wherefore did I play th’unthrifty tool,

ness And, wasting all on others, leave myself

Of his vain youth, to stain a lady's fame;
Witbout one thought of joy to give me comfort? Perhaps his malice to disturb my friend,
All. Oh, mighty love; Shall that fair face pro- Oh, no! my heart forebodes it must be true.
fane

Methought, ev'n now, I mark'd the starts of This thy great festival with frowns and sadness?

guilt I swear it sba'not be, for I will woo thee

That shook her soul; though damn'd dissimula. With sighs so moving, with so warm a transporty

tion That thou shalt catch the gentle flame from me, Screen'd her dark thoughts, and set to publio And kindle into joy.

Viow Cal. I tell thee, Altamopt,

A specious face of innocence and beauty.

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