And that he was the first of all mankind,
The braveft, and moft lovely, was my curfe.
Alic. Sure, fomething more than fortune join'd your loves:
Nor could his greatness, and his gracious form,
Be elsewhere match'd fo well, as to the sweetness
And beauty of my friend.
7. Sh. Name him no more:
He was the bane and ruin of my peace.
This anguifh and thefe tears, thefe are the legacies.
His fatal love has left me. Thou wilt fee me,
Believe me, my Alicia, thou wilt see me,
E'er yet a few short days pafs o'er my head,
Abandon'd to the very utmost wretchedness..
The hand of pow'r has feiz'd almost the whole
Of what was left for needy life's fupport;
Shortly thou wilt behold me poor, and kneeling.
Before thy charitable door for bread.
Alic. Joy of my life, my deareft Shore, forbear
To wound my heart with thy foreboding forrows;
Raife thy fad foul to better hopes than thefe,
Lift up thy eyes, and let them fhine once more,
Bright as the morning fun above the mist.
Exert thy charms, feek out the ftern Protector,
And foothe his favage temper with thy beauty:
Spite of his deadly, unrelenting nature,
He shall be mov'd to pity, and redrefs thee.
7. Sh. My form, alas! has long forgot to please;: The scene of beauty and delight is chang'd; No roses bloom upon my fading cheek, Nor laughing graces wanton in my eyes; But haggard grief, lean-looking fallow care,
And pining difcontent, a rueful train,
Dwell on my brow, all hideous and forlorn.
One only shadow of a hope is left me ;
The noble-minded Haftings, of his goodness,
Has kindly underta'en to be my advocate,
And move my humble fuit to angry Glofter.
Alic. Does Haftings undertake to plead your
caufe?
But wherefore fhould he not? Haftings has eyes ;
The gentle lord has a right tender heart,
Melting and eafy, yielding to impreffion,
And catching the foft flame from each new beauty; yours fhall charm him long.
7. Sh. Away, you flatterer!
Nor charge his gen'rous meaning with a weakness,
Which his great foul and virtue must disdain.
Too much of love thy hapless friend has prov'd,
Too many giddy foolish hours are gone,
And in fantaftic measures danc'd
away:
May the remaining few know only friendship.
So thou, my deareft, trueft, beft Alicia,
Vouchfafe to lodge me in thy gentle heart,
A partner there; I will give up mankind,
Forget the tranfports of increafing paffion,
And all the pangs we feel for its decay.
Alic. Live live and reign for ever in my bofom;
[Embracing.
Save and unrivall'd there poffefs thy own;
And you, the brightest of the stars above,
Ye faints that once were women here below,
Be witness of the truth, the holy friendship,
Which here to this my other felf I vow.
If I not hold her nearer to my foul,
Than every other joy the world can give ;
Let poverty, deformity, and shame,
Diftraction and despair seize me on earth,
Let not my faithlefs ghoft have peace hereafter,
Nor tafte the blifs of your celeftial fellowship.
J. Sh. Yes, thou art true, and only thou art
Therefore thefe jewels, once the lavish bounty
Of royal Edward's love, I truft to thee;
Receive this, all that I can call my own,
And let it reft unknown, and safe with thee:
That if the ftate's injuftice fhould opprefs me,
Strip me of all, and turn me out a wanderer,
My wretchedness may find relief from thee,
And shelter from the ftorm.
One common hazard shall attend us both,
And both be fortunate, or both be wretched.
But let thy fearful doubting heart be still;
The faints and angels have thee in their charge,
And all things fhall be well. Think not, the
good,
The gentle deeds of mercy thou haft done,
Shall die forgotten all; "the poor, the pris'ner, "The fatherless, the friendlefs, and the widow, "Who daily own the bounty of thy hand, "Shall cry to Heav'n and pull a bleffing on thee;" Ev'n man, the mercilefs infulter man,
Man, who rejoices in our fex's weakness,
Shall pity thee, and with unwonted goodness
Forget thy failings, and record thy praise.
7. Sh. Why fhould I think that man will do for
What yet he never did for wretches like me?
Mark by what partial justice we are judg'd:
Such is the fate unhappy women find,
And fuch the curfe entail'd upon our kind,
That man, the lawless libertine, may rove,
Free and unqueftion'd through the wilds of love;
While woman, fenfe and nature's easy fool,
If poor weak woman fwerve from virtue's rule,
If, ftrongly charm'd, fhe leave the thorny way,
And in the fofter paths of pleasure stray,
Ruin enfues, reproach and endless fhame,
And one falfe ftep entirely damns her fame:
In vain with tears the lofs fhe may deplore,
In vain look back on what he was before;
She fets, like ftars that fall, to rife no more.
Continues. Enter ALICIA, Speaking to JANE SHORE as entering.
No farther, gentle friend; good angels guard you, And fpread their gracious wings about your flumbers.
The drowfy night grows on the world, and now
The busy craftsmen and o'er-labour'd hind
Forget the travail of the day in fleep:
Care only wakes, and moping penfiveness ;
With meagre difcontented looks they fit,
And watch the wafting of the midnight taper.
Such vigils muft 1 keep, fo wakes my foul,
Restless and self-tormented! Oh, false Haftings!
Thou haft deftroy'd my peace.
[Knocking without.
What vifitor is this, who with bold freedom,
Breaks in upon the peaceful night and reft,
With fuch a rude approach?
Lord Haftings (as I think) demands my lady.
Alic. Haftings! Be ftill, my heart, and try te
With his own arts: with falfhood-But he comes.
Enter Lord HASTINGS, Speaks to a Servant as enter ing.
Haft. Difmifs my train, and wait alone without. Alicia here! Unfortunate encounter!
But be it as it may.
Alic. When humbly, thus,
The great defcend to vifit the afflicted,
When thus, unmindful of their rest, they come
To footh the forrows of the midnight mourner,
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